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bunnyboysrus · 3 months

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Of Monsters and Omegas

I read this a/b/o thing a while ago, I don't even know who the original was by I can't find it again y-y

but it had a thing I'd never seen in a/b/o before, with an idea of an alpha, claim biting another alpha and turning them into an omega (talked to a friend and it turns out this is a thing that has been written about more than once, im just out of touch and its not even friday) and it was an amazing story, super well written, I just personally didn't like the ending cause I'm the #1 advocate for brat readers and not the biggest fan of crybabies or the total pheromone brainwashing that people write for omegas that make them do the complete opposite of what they would normally do, I'd like to think they have more resistance to the chemicals than that albeit at the cost of some physical and psychological pain. so im writing my own, thingy, with a different ending.

18+ Minors DNI - 6.3k words Content Warnings: stalking, obsession, death, fighting, violence, blood, torture(?), kidnapping, noncon touching, suggestive, gangs, some degradation, reader is referred to as 'princess' gender neutrally (im new to this so if theres anything i forgot pls let me know)

The heavy sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoed against the stone walls of the alleyway concealing the battered figures of the people fighting within it. One person lay dazed and immobile on the ground already, followed shortly by a second body, this one out cold before he even hit the ground. The last two fighters standing were locked in a desperate grapple, and despite having been beset upon by three assholes at once, the would-be victim who had been pulled into the alley on their way home from a long day of college classes gains the upper hand for the third and final time. Your muscles burn as you grunt and send the last assailant flying into the hard brick wall, one final crack ringing through the tight, dark space as they slide down the wall onto the dirty ground, right into an unfortunately placed puddle of dumpster juice. They leave a splatter of blood on the stone where the back of their head split on the stained grit.

Blood drips from the knuckles of the hand you run through the sweaty hair slicked to your forehead as you stoop and pick up your backpack from where it had been tossed to the side. You spot a wallet on the ground, knocked out of someone's pocket at some point during the fight, and pocket the cash from that too, for the inconvenience. These scumbags were lucky they weren't dead, yet, anyway. For this? They'd probably be killed within the week once you gave their ID's to your older sister.

You continue on your way back home, wiping the blood off your knuckles and face with the sleeve of your coat as you go.

Why those grunts had seemingly staked you out was beyond you, other than the obvious reason of being a member of their gang's most vicious and historied rival. Your family was a notorious one, a family business dealing mostly in drugs but with a few spare hands in money laundering and data gathering. You were fully aware that what your family did was illegal in a dozen different ways, but it was what you had grown up in, it was what paid for your lavish lifestyle, so who were you to be judgmental? Besides, to compromise within a morally gray area, you know your family prefers to keep things as bloodless as possible, less clean up and attention that way. As a fresh adult who was only in your second year of college however, you were ignorant to most of those details, and chose to be so. You understood why your family didn't want to involve you just yet, and you didn't care to dig into it, the longer you could go with less responsibilities, the better. So, for now, you were content to stay in the dark and live your carefree, well-funded life.

Of course, that didn't mean you were naive or anything. You know very well that you were in constant danger of being attacked or killed, even as you lived a perfectly normal college life. So, as any self-respecting alpha would, you worked out intensely and routinely, to the point of being intimidating even to other alphas. Running into a few punks here and there was nothing to you, even when they came in groups like they had today.

The remaining smears of blood on your knuckles have dried into a crust by the time you get home. Once you've kicked off your shoes at the door, you hide the gory evidence of your altercation in your coat pockets as you step into the living room of your family's manor. Your sisters, Nina, the youngest, and Esme, older than you but younger than your brothers, Leon and Silas, are sitting on the couch closest to the TV, a drama of some sort playing as they shared a bowl of strawberries. Nina beams at you from the couch.

"Hey! How was your day?"

Nina was still in high school, which in your opinion was way worse than college, so the fact that she still had the spunk and energy to greet you so enthusiastically warmed your heart. You smile back at her as you head for the stairs.

"It was pretty good, I finally finished that project so now I don't have to stay late at the library anymore."

"That's great! That means you'll be home early enough to watch Cats of Heaven with me!"

"I should have enough time for that, sure." You chuckle. You had no clue what that was, but if you had to guess, knowing your sister it was the newest silly cartoon that she had become infatuated with. At least she wasn't trying to get you to watch the insufferable dramas that she liked to watch with Leon and Esme, like what was on now, but you would never admit to your siblings how corny you thought those kinds of shows were. You could only hope Cats of Heaven was something more entertaining than the standard soap operas you'd observed.

"There's pizza in the kitchen." Esme calls to you as you start up the stairs.

Ah, so Leon isn't home yet. The oldest of your siblings was the one who normally cooked, more often than even your mother. You call back an acknowledgement before jogging up the stairs to your room. After cleaning yourself of the day's grime, and the blood of course, you change clothes and trot back downstairs, heading for the kitchen to obtain some of the aforementioned pizza. Getting past the group project you'd been working on for the past three months meant more free time after school for the immediate future, and you were all too keen to relax with your family, even if it meant slogging through a show that was potentially horrendous.

You pad back into the living room, already halfway through one of the five slices of cheesy divinity on your plate. You were just sitting down between Esme and Nina when the sound of keys in the front foyer made you all perk up.

"I thought they weren't coming back for another few days?" Esme voices the question on all of your minds, 'they' being your parents and oldest brother, who had left on a business trip a little under a week ago.

"Maybe they finished work early and wanted it to be a surprise." Nina suggests happily, as the sound of footsteps in the hallway grows closer. You're hit with a sudden wave of apprehension at the same time as Esme, both of you standing abruptly to move in front of your youngest sister as a crowd of strangers step into the room with shameless casualness. Leading them, is an imposing alpha man with ink black hair tied at the nape of his neck and burning red eyes so piercing it almost made you shiver to be caught in their gaze. Almost.

The only thing that overpowered the rising fear was anger.

You sprint directly for the leader, arm pulled back for a haymaker, but some beta grunt gets in your way and takes the blow. It's clear from the confidence with which he steps in that he was unprepared for the force behind the fist, and ends up on his face on the floor, dead to the world. The first swing immediately spurs the others into action, and they surge around their leader to subdue you. It turns out to be a much harder endeavor than any of them anticipate, even when one lackey throws themself onto your back to weigh down your movement, you move as though the weight wasn't there at all, ramming backwards and crushing the brave idiot and one other against the wall. You're about to make another lunge for the leader, who has so far been lounging in an insufferably smug manner against the wall, watching the fight but not bothering to get involved, when you hear a shrill scream behind you that stops you cold.

You turn back to see Nina trapped in the arms of a muscly thug, and Esme thrashing on the ground at her feet, held down by two others. Your rage surges and you move to attack their captors, but the momentary distraction caused by your little sister's distress is all the time that's needed for three more men to jump on you and drag you to the ground. It takes 5 people altogether to hold you down as you curse and struggle against their hold trying to reach your sisters.

The leader of the home invasion chuckles condescendingly as he finally moves from his spot against the wall and walks closer, kneeling down by your face, a tight smile on his face that holds no amusement.

"You're just as feisty as ever, second youngest. I've heard all about your track record in fights, your unbroken win streak was so intimidating that I thought for sure it'd take more than that to subdue you. I'm a little disappointed."

"Fuck you!!!" It's all you can manage to spit out amongst your fury and exhaustion; normally you'd be able to throw off even five people, at least enough to get an arm free to strike out, but you were already worn out from your earlier fight. That, and a literal glob of spit that lands splat dab against the side of the assault leader's nose; damn, so close to hitting him in the eye.

The room goes cold and still, the thugs surrounding you and your siblings seem to take in a collective breath of anxiety, looking nervously to their leader for his reaction. To their surprise, he simply stares down intensely at the struggling alpha on the floor as he wipes the spit off his cheek... and licks it off his thumb.

"Oh, are you sure that's smart? You might not care about your own compromised position... but you care about theirs, right?" He glances over to the men holding down your sisters and in response to an unspoken signal, they draw knives and hold them menacingly against their throats. Esme growls furiously, but Nina screams again in fear as tears pour down her cheeks.

"Stop! Stop it, don't terrorize them! You're here for me, right?! Then just take me outside and beat me to death if that's what you want but leave them alone!!!" You still sound enraged, but even you are aware of the fear that leaks into your voice.

"Aww, worried for your sisters? Me too." The faux amusement in the alpha leader's voice is gone now, replaced with a cold fury chilling enough to send a zing of worry into your spine. The leader grabs a fistful of your hair in a painfully tight grip as he pulls your head up, his other hand spinning a set of keys around his finger. Your blood runs cold when you zero in on the plastic pink dolphin hanging on the ring.

Those are your mother's keys.

"You seem to think I'm here because you put a few grunts into the hospital. You're mistaken." The alpha tilts his head as his eyes pierce into yours, searching, but for what, you don't know. "You aren't aware of what your brother's been up to, are you?"

"You'll have to be more specific; I have two." You huff, trying not to stare too obviously at the dolphin, trying desperately not to think of what it might mean of your mother's fate for this asshole to be holding those keys.

"Silas." The alpha says icily, speaking the name like a curse.

Warily, you shake your head, the clawed grip on your head barely allowing the movement. "No, I'm not aware of anything my brothers and parents are involved in."

"That's unfortunate... But I'm already aware of that. It's cute, honestly, did they think leaving you out of the loop would keep you safe and uninvolved?" He gives your hair a sharp tug, eliciting a hiss from the fuming alpha. "All it did was make you the perfect tool for revenge."

"What the fuck are you even talking about you piece of shi-" The leader slams your face into the ground, and although the floor is carpeted, it only buffers the brunt force so much. When the leader lifts your head back up, your nose is dripping blood.

"I'm talking now. Unless you want me to kill your sisters in front of you, you'll shut the fuck up and listen like a good little bitch."

A growl rumbles through you which is met with another face first kiss into the floor, but the alpha doesn't signal anything to the thugs holding your sisters.

"Listen well, as I won't repeat myself. Silas kidnapped my sister, and I can only assume he claimed her. That, or he killed her, but I doubt it. Your mother was helping him to keep them both hidden, and to her credit she refused to sell him out, no matter how much we hurt her." The spinning of the keys stops abruptly as the leader catches them in his palm before dangling them in front of you. "I guess she didn't stop to think about what that choice might mean for her other children, left so innocent and unaware at home, alone. Maybe she had a favorite?"

Your blood runs cold as you take in the intruder's words. You had never been particularly close with Silas, hell, none of your siblings were. He had always been very distant with his siblings, while the rest of you went on to be incredibly close with one another, leaving Silas as the odd one out. That wasn't to say you hadn't all at some point tried to get closer with him, he had simply always made it clear he had no interest. This was probably also fueled by the coddling you had all observed from your mother; Silas had always been her golden boy, incapable of wrongdoing.

"I had no idea... None of us did." You can only hope the sincerity is clear in your voice and face; you genuinely had no idea your brother had done such a thing or was even capable of doing such. If the kidnapping was fueled by anything other than the feud between your families... The thought made you sick.

The leader considers your words, his chilling gaze never wavering in the slightest from yours.

"I believe you. From what I gather, based on what we were able to discern from the phone we took from your mother, she and he were the only ones in on it."

Your relief is short lived when a cruel, mirthless smirk creeps over the leader's face. There's a sudden sting in the side of your neck, you barely have time to register the pinch of pain before darkness rushes into your vision from all sides.

"However... That doesn't alleviate you of the consequences."

A sudden splash of cold drags you unwillingly out of the darkness. You open your eyes, gasping, taking in the dirty, gray stone, the puddle surrounding you; you're no longer in your living room. You now find yourself somewhere dark and cemented on all sides, the cold dampness pervading the space the kind that only comes from being underground. The only illumination comes from a single bare bulb swinging on a frayed wire over your head, the light it casts only making the space feel more unnerving.

Looming over you, face cast eerily in the darkness clumping up around the edges of the bulb's dingy light, is the leader of the home invasion. His red eyes are black in the shadow, but still alight with something cruel and mocking. He has a bucket in his hand, empty save for the last few drops of water clinging to the lip, the rest of it covering you.

"Good morning, princess. Sleep well?"

It's just the two of you, alone. No guards, no thugs, no sign of your sisters. You process this information a split second before you register the weight clamped down around your arms and waist, metal rattling loudly through the small space when you try to lunge for him, only to be stopped short by a chain attached to the wall behind you. You twist your arms violently, feeling the bite of handcuffs digging into your wrists, chains pulling taught where they're wrapped around your waist. Your captor laughs at your efforts.

It's when you growl in response to the taunting laughter that you feel more metal on your face. A muzzle. You can't suppress the fury thrashing around in your chest like a wild animal, growing more and more violent the more humiliation is piled on. The abduction, the laughter, the restraints, the muzzle. You kick and pull and yank and spit and snarl, don't stop even when the metal bites and blood makes your skin slippery against the cuffs.

"Aww, throwing a tantrum now? Cute." The words are barely enough warning before you're shoved onto your back, arms grinding painfully between the restrains and the dirty floor.

Your captor straddles you, his weight keeping your body pressed flat to the ground while one hand settles into the curve of your throat and squeezes. His palm presses lightly into your airway at the same time that his thumb rubs slow, pensive circles in the dip between your neck and collar. You shiver apprehensively when it brushes over the scent gland in your neck.

"I already told you I don't know where your sister is. Fucking kill me already so you can get even, just don't hurt my sisters. They're not involved!"

"Second time you've asked me to kill you... you seem quite keen on it." He smirks. "Unfortunately, you're all involved by virtue of simply being a part of that family. I know none of you are stupid enough to be completely ignorant to your family's doings."

Another growl bubbles up in your throat, only to be choked into silence when your captor tightens his grip around your neck.

"You know, I've thought for a while now that the older you've gotten, the less happy you've looked. The worst time, was right after your high school graduation, it was like the last of your light had left your eyes." His smile softens into something pitying, bordering on sympathetic even, but all you feel is chills running up and down your spine. "You always used to be so carefree, and spirited, it was crushing to see you looking so worn down and sad. It took me a while to realize what was killing the happy you I love so much."

The hands around your neck loosen as the leader leans down, hips shifting against your crotch as he moves, completely unbothered by the water soaking into his pants. He brings his face to your ear, lips grazing against the shell of it.

"Don't you think trying so hard to posture around like a big tough alpha is exhausting? I know it is, I know intimately the sort of shit we go through to come out on top as the strongest, the worthiest... But that struggle never suited you, did it? You've always seemed too sweet for it to me, more like an omega than an alpha."

You can't help but take the opportunity to thrust your head forward and slam it into your captor's face, forcing him back into his upright position. Ignoring the stalker shit this guy was just babbling was difficult, but you decided to skip it for now since honestly you didn't really wanna hear the details...

"You've gotta be shitting me, I've sent hundreds of you losers to the hospital and the grave since I was a middle schooler. If you're seriously trying to compare me to an omega, then I know you're full of it and just trying to piss me off."

He raises an eyebrow, surprisingly not retaliating against the bonk to his head, not yet at least.

"So, what would you call the manicures you get monthly with your sister?"

"I call that self-care and spending time with my sister. Fighting off all your fuckin' grunts wears my hands out and I'm not fond of scars. I deserve a relaxing hand massage for the trouble of beating your thugs up every week."

"And the mall trips where you spend hundreds on clothes which you follow up with a trip to that quaint little bakery where you always get a strawberry cream cake? That doesn't strike you as omega-ish?"

"Go to hell. For one thing, it's insanely creepy that you know all that, and for another, you're stereotyping like a motherfucker. Alphas aren't all meatheads that do nothing but eat raw steak, jerk off and work out, and all omegas aren't valley preps that do nothing but shop and primp. People who think like you are what's wrong with society."

The leader's deep red eyes stare intensely into your face for an eerily long moment before the corners of his lips twitch. At first its imperceptible, and while he clearly fights to keep a straight face, he can't keep down the chuckles bubbling out of his throat for long. He throws his head back in a burst of full body laughter, the least cruel sound he's made since you met him. When he finally manages to calm himself, the leader beams down at you as he wipes a tear out of his eye.

"My god... You're so fucking cute. Do you even hear yourself? You're only proving my point. You're meant to be pampered and taken care of, sheltered and safe from petty street fights and laborious expectations of strength and intimidation. You look so much cuter and happier getting your nails done than you do working out and swaggering around trying to be impressive and domineering."

This conversation had already been creepy since it started, but this was starting to genuinely unnerve you. You try to lean your head further away from the alpha on top of you, but he grabs the front of your muzzle, dragging you closer.

"Don't run away now tough guy. I thought a big bad alpha like you wasn't scared. How's it feel to be the one on bottom? Feeling threatened by the idea of someone putting you in your place? Scared?" He drags his tongue across the thin bars of the muzzle, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"What do you want from me?" You finally manage to ask, despite the tightness in your throat. As much as you expect to dread the answer, you can't stand any more of the back and forth while you wait in suspense for torture, for death, for something. Something other than whatever it is about this whole exchange that is making this guy so rock hard. You're trying to ignore it but, you've been feeling the unmistakable prod of this weirdo's boner against your crotch for almost the whole time you've been speaking.

"Still waiting on me to kill you? Knowing how proud you are, I bet you'd prefer death over what I have planned for you." The freak on top of you chuckles, his voice lowering to a husk as he leans down and nuzzles his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. "You smell so sweet even now, for an alpha...~ You'll smell even better soon."

Before you can ask what the hell he's talking about, you feel a kitten lick against your neck that makes you freeze. It's light at first, but quickly turns into broad strokes of his tongue and open mouth kisses from shoulder to jaw, wet and insistent.

No way. Nowaynowaynowaynoway. Obviously, no one is incapable of being sexually assaulted but it rarely ever happened to alphas, they weren't exactly the cute, easy targets creeps normally went for. It had never even been a passing concern for you up until now.

"Hey! Are you fucking-gh...!" You choke on your words when a sharp sting pulses through your neck. A heartbeat later, a deep and agonizing burning sensation starts to spread through your veins, up into your head where the white-hot burn is so blaring that it clouds your vision with spots, and down into your chest where your heart starts pounding against your ribs like it's trying to claw its way out. You can only gasp soundlessly as pain like you've never experienced rips through you, tearing screams from your lungs that die before they can even leave your throat, coming out only as gasping whimpers. It's after you feel a second bite and the pain is redoubled that you finally manage to shriek out loud, a sound so visceral and so unlike any sound or scream you've ever made that it doesn't even sound like you.

When he bites into your scent gland for a third time, the pressure building behind your eyes from the pain and the lightheadedness of screaming without pause for breath snaps. You can feel yourself losing consciousness again, and this time you couldn't be more grateful for it.

Your return to the waking world is much slower this time. Whereas before you were yanked out of the darkness with a splash of cold water, this time you find yourself wading through it, a lake of sludge thicker than cold syrup, and it was just as sticky and unpleasant as you imagine such a thing would be. Despite what feels like physical pounds of exhaustion weighing them down, you manage to drag your eyes open.

You feel cold and damp all over, a fresh drop of sweat rolling down your neck. A full body ache that sinks deep into your bones covers you; you feel like you're made of glass, fragile, weak and sore.

A strip of dim, greyed light is shining on the ceiling over your head; its all you can focus on as your awareness swims to the surface and clambers out of the heavy lake still trying to drag it down. You shift and lift one of your arms out from under the thick blanket covering you and notice gauze wrapped around your wrist. A small, delicate gasp to your side makes you turn your head. Nina is sitting in a chair by your bedside, clutching your other hand tightly between hers.

"You're awake! Y-You were sleeping so long I thought you'd never..." She sniffles, holding your hand to her cheek as hot tears drip onto your wrist. You slowly turn your hand to press your palm against her cheek, smiling softly.

"It's okay Nina, I'm alive, it's alright." Your voice is barely more than a croak, scratching painfully out of your throat. Nina grabs a cup of water from a bedside table and gently helps you take a few sips. When you've managed to drain the whole cup, you lay back in the bed with a wearied sigh.

"What happened? I thought for sure I was dying, I..." You trail off, thinking back to the odd conversation you'd had with the alpha who had led your home's invasion. Your head is pounding, and you feel so weak, like you're just waking up from the worst part of a flu, still feeling traces of a fever in the heat trapped in your blankets and the sweat clinging to your skin. A growl from the window pulls your attention away from your condition.

"That motherfucker... He did something to you." Esme is leaning against the frame of the large window casting the gray light over the ceiling a few feet away from where you and Nina are sitting, a cigarette crushed in half in her hand. You can't help but be faintly alarmed at the sight of it; Nina had expressly forbidden Esme from smoking, and she hadn't been caught with a cigarette in over a year. To see her with one in front of Nina, and for Nina to not be making any fuss over it, means something is seriously wrong. A distant rumble punctuates the tense silence that falls over you all, and you notice that the slim strip of sky visible through the partially parted curtains over the window is blotted out with storm gray.

"Did what to me?" You press. Your sisters exchange a look that is far too loaded to discern anything from other than Nina's palpable concern and Esme's frustration. You quickly get tired of waiting for one of them to tell you what is going on.

"Will one of you please tell me what is making you both look at me like I've caught some kind of fatal disease?" You huff, anxiety bleeding into your words. Nina glances one more time to Esme, who adamantly refuses to look away from the window as she throws down her ruined cigarette and retrieves a new one.

"You... Er, well you were... claimed. By Emil." Nina says quietly, staring down at her hands in her lap rather than you.

You stare at her blankly. What she's saying makes sense objectively, but you can't make sense of what it could have to do with you. Claiming was something exclusively done between alphas and omegas. You almost want to laugh and call it absurd, when you remember the sharp, burning pain of something piercing your neck. You shiver as you recall that the pain had been sourced in the same area as your scent gland. Your hand slowly, shakily, reaches up to press two probing fingers to your neck. Pain pulses faintly through you again when the tips of your fingers find gauze wrapped around it.

The weakness pervading your entire body, the nervousness underlying all of the other emotions swirling in your gut, the foreign sensation settled in your lower abdomen... Somehow, you know instinctively what it all means before your sister even says it.

"He bitched you. You're an omega now." Esme's voice has dropped to a low, hard to hear octave. You almost want to believe you imagined what you just heard, but you know deep down that what she says is true. The despair must show on your face, as Nina grabs your hand again, squeezing it tightly between both of hers.

"I-It'll be okay...! Emil is actually very nice, and he's genuinely-" She's cut off by the sharp slam of Esme's fist against the wall.

"Bullshit! Don't even start Nina. He bitched you and he expects you to roll over and be happy about it, but I say fuck that!" She snarls, her new cigarette meeting the same fate as its predecessor as she crushes it in her fist and throws it to the ground. "He's gone on and on at us trying to prove that this is all somehow what's best for you, but he just sounds deranged! He's a sick, obsessive freak, and he wants you to-!"

The sound of a door opening stops her short, and all three siblings jerk around to look at the newcomer entering through the door on the far side of the room from the bed. A woman in scrub pants and a sweater glowers down at all three siblings, looking supremely exhausted.

"You two, you were told you would only be allowed in if you didn't cause trouble. Are you distressing the patient right after they wake up?" She asks in a cold, droning voice.

Nina and Esme exchange defeated, worried glances before Nina speaks up.

"N-No ma'am, we weren't trying to be disruptive we were just-"

"Overwhelming someone coming out of a physically taxing ordeal that left them comatose for almost two weeks." She interjects dryly. "Come on, visitation's over, both of you out."

You expect your sisters to argue, to tell her off for expecting them to leave you alone and insist on staying with you, but to your shock your sisters resignedly stand up and head for the door. Once they've both shuffled out, the nurse (?) shuts the door behind them and trudges over to you. You flinch away from her touch, but she grabs you in firm but gentle hands, holding you still as she looks you over.

"I expected you to stay out for a few more days, but you're one tough little cookie. How are you feeling?"

Bewildered but too shell shocked to question, you answer the questions she asks you as she goes about taking your temperature and blood pressure. One impromptu physical later, she steps away from your bed with a satisfied nod.

"Alright, it looks like your recovery is progressing better than expected. You'll probably be up and about like nothing happened within a few days." You listen to her ramble about your condition before you can bring yourself to ask.

"What happened to me? Is... Is what my sister said true? Am I an omega?"

The nurse goes silent. The pitying look she gives you is all the confirmation you need.

"You should go back to sleep for now. Your body probably still feels very weak. Food will be brought to you shortly but try not to stress yourself out in the meantime." It's all she says before she hurries to the door, shutting your questions down with a firm slam. You scramble to your feet, swaying violently as soon as you try to stand. You power through it, holding down a lurching sensation akin to being on the verge of throwing up as you stagger to the door and wrench at the knob. Locked.

Fear and worry overtake you as you start slamming your hands and body into the door, though what you're trying to accomplish, not even you know. You're too weak to even stand, let alone break down a door, and before long, cold rushes into your limbs and you find yourself sliding down onto the floor, trembling and barely keeping down the bile crawling up your throat. You curl up into a ball and close your eyes.

When you awake for the third time, you don't feel nearly as ill. The ache in your limbs is still there, a mild constant, but it doesn't feel as debilitating as it did before. As you are in the middle of waking, you feel a cool hand brushing through your hair, and smell a sweet scent around you that puts you at ease. You can't help but lean your face into the hand petting you as your eyes slowly open. Snuggled against you, both arms wrapped securely around you... is that fucking freak.

You jerk away from the home invasion leader's hand, pulling him out of what looks like a deep reverie as you scramble to the side of the bed farthest from him. He smiles at you in amusement as he sits up, leaning his cheek against a fist propped on his knee.

"Good morning, princess. How are you feeling?"

You rub your hand over your neck, now free of gauze, feeling the bite marks in your skin in hyper-detail.

"You fucking... y-you, what did you do...?!" You demand, your voice a slightly higher pitch than you recall it being and shaking.

He chuckles like this was exactly what he was expecting, looking at you with a coy condescension that makes your skin crawl.

"I helped you; the first step to setting up our beautiful romance was making you an omega so I could care for you without any power struggles getting in the way. I'm not saying I look down on alphas having relationships with other alphas, but it just wasn't for me." His grin broadens as he crawls closer to you, closing the distance you'd put between you. You try to back up further, but he corners you against the headboard, arms caging you in on either side. He leans his head down, you shrink into yourself as he does but its not far enough, and his cheek brushes yours as he licks up the side of your neck. When his tongue glides over the bites on your neck, a shudder runs through you unbidden. A sudden rush of wetness between your legs shocks you to a frozen standstill. The freak looming over you takes a deep inhale, shuddering in ecstasy.

"I was right... You smell so much sweeter like this!" He presses against you, one knee parting your legs as one of his hands rubs the burning heat between your thighs. You reach to grab his wrist and pull it away, but his free hand catches yours and holds it down. The uncomfortable wetness gets worse as a heat purrs through your core, goaded by his touching.

You feel a foreign sensation crawling through your brain, sickeningly warm and disorienting. It urges you to pull your hands away, spread yourself open willingly before the alpha in front of you. It promises bliss in submission, ecstasy in relinquishing control to someone bigger and stronger than you, someone who could protect and ravish you-

A jolt runs through you as your captor's hand drifts up to dip underneath the waistband of your pants, his face lifting up from your neck to direct his affections to your lips. His attempt to take a kiss is stopped short violently by a fist slamming into his nose. He falls backwards off the side of the bed with an undignified yelp, curling up on the floor for an agonizing moment to hold his face as blood rushes between his fingers.

"W-What the hell... Aren't you...?"

"GO TO HELL YOU UGLY FREAK!!!" The panic you feel is pushed down, rage swallowing it entirely. The alpha on the floor quickly backs up as you get to your feet, fists clenched and shaking in fury.

"But I claimed you...! You can't-"

"I don't give a shit what you did! Did you seriously think I'd tolerate you touching me?! Get the hell OUT!!!!!" You scream loud enough to make your voice hoarse in your already aching throat, grabbing anything you can to hurl at him. Pillows and plastic cups chase him out as he scrambles back to the door, muttering a promise to visit again once you're in a better mood. A pillow smacks into the door with alarming force in the spot where his head had been just a split second earlier. As for the idea of you ever being in any mood that would make you tolerate being in his presence...

Fat chance of that.

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bringmemyrocks · 4 months

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The enemy of your enemy is not always your friend: Canceling Shaun King edition

Reminder that even if someone dislikes Shaun King and Standing Together (King is a fraud, the other an org that doesn't advocate for a free Palestine in any meaningful way) it does not mean that someone is a good person.

I have seen plenty of opportunistic grifters/conspiracy theories glom onto the Shaun King hate train and use that to:

Spread antisemitic George Soros conspiracies

Spread literal antisemitism ("Jews run child sex trafficking rings" see below since original stories expired/"true ally Jews give up Judaism")

Be homophobic/transphobic or target orgs like Al Qaws that serve LGBT Palestinians for not being "morally pure" and supposedly taking Soros Money (they don't, and even if they did that's not how grants work)

Smear Palestinian activists like Issa Amro who have done good work for Palestine for literal decades and who have been tortured and imprisoned by the IDF multiple times in the last year.

There are many, many people, Palestinians and allies who you can follow who do none of these things.

Follow Motaz, follow Bisan, follow the Palestinian Youth Movement, follow Al Jazeera, follow Wael Al Dadouh, follow letstalkpalestine, follow anat.international, follow Adnan Barq, follow Mohammed El Kurd, follow Noura Erakat, follow Mariam Barghouti, main thing is to follow Palestinians, especially those on the ground in Palestine and those doing activism in the diaspora. They are on many social media platforms, instagram, twitter, facebook, etc.

Palestinians on Tumblr: (don't want to ping them so I'll put a /)

@/palipunk, @/el-shab-hussein, @/fairuzfan, @/7amas1umblrspokesman, @/killy, @/90-ghost and there are many more that I can't think of immediately. I will edit this post if it gets comments or corrections! This is meant to be informative because I get a lot of people asking me why a faceless instagram account is calling a solid activist a normalizer for no reason.

But: There is no good reason to follow people who peddle conspiracies that harm marginalized Palestinians. You should be informed, but be informed by people who are not spreading conspiracies.

#palestine #shaun king #anti normalization #antinormalization #activism #i

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luvtonique · 6 months

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I'm just gonna up and say it.

I'm gonna be real. It's something too many of you need to hear.

And it's time someone told you.

If you are made aware of a violent and bloody war, where people are being slaughtered, killed, raped, tortured, having their children killed, having their homes and families destroyed, having their lives taken...

And you see it as an opportunity to "choose a side you support" and put their nation's flag on your profile in support of them, and condemn people who don't support the same side as you?

If you are actively looking for reasons to support your 'side,' making excuses on behalf of bloodshed, arguing about what's 'justified' or 'a result of provocation' to further advocate for bloodshed?

If you ask people which side they support and know deep down that you will be viciously angry if they say "Neither" "I want this violence to stop" or the opposite side of the one you support?

I'm sorry.

But you are a fucking monster.

I have to say this. I literally can't keep reading posts from people fighting over whether they support Israel or Palestine, or even Ukraine or Russia.

This isn't fucking Esports you actual psychopaths! This is war and people are fucking dying! If you are celebrating when you hear "Ukrainians kill 1000 Russian soldiers" or "Palestinians kill Israeli children" you are literally a fucking monster. You are celebrating death, you are celebrating bloodshed, how the fuck do you look at yourself in the mirror and see anything other than a psychopathic death-obsessed twisted individual staring back at you?

You are sick. End of story.

Holy fucking lord I can't believe you fucking monsters so regularly celebrate slaughter of people. These are people, these are lives, these are human beings being fucking killed and you're waving around a flag like you're cheering for a sports team what the

ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU

From the bottom of my heart I hope that you all stand up right now, walk to the mirror, stare into it, and ask yourself, truly, deeply, if this is the person you really want to be. Someone who argues with people about why one side or the other is the 'good' side in war. Someone who actively looks for reasons to forgive the horrible violence happening in our world that's ending thousands and thousands of lives.

This isn't even just for war. Violence in general.

Stop it. Stop thinking there's a good side. Stop thinking violence is justified. I don't care what you fucking think about "the other side" and how it's "okay to punch them," you're a fucking freak of nature looking for any reason you can to justify violence as long as the violence lines up with your personal political views. You are just a fucking sick person.

Someone had to say it. You had to hear it. And I know damn well it's gonna fall on quite a lot of deaf fucking ears because social media is just full of you violence-obsessed genocidal fuckwits.

I already know the replies I'm gonna see.

"But what about if the person being killed is a <label> or voted for <name>? It should be okay to advocate violence against them"

"Oh so it's okay if x kills y but not if y kills x?"

"Wow I can tell what side you chose <clown emoji>"

I know it. I can feel it. I can feel you Tumblrites seething from reading this, from being told the truth about how much of a psycho you are, and you're conjuring every bit of your smug energy, looking into the void of your mind to find the perfect end to a sentence starting with "Wow it's almost as if" so you can "Own me" instead of taking your hands off your keyboard, standing up, thinking for one second about who you are and what your morals are, and deciding to stop advocating violence in any form.

And to the select few who read this and go "Yeah I already don't advocate violence and I'm already a person who just wishes it would stop instead of taking an opportunity to attack people and feel justified in my attack" then you're fine. You're a good person. Go get yourself a nice piece of butter toast or like make some soup you've earned it.

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erenaeoth · 3 months

Note

Hiii! I'm here to read your ramble about TK8's story. Personally I've tried to keep my expectations as low as possible. But I still ended up disappointed. So what's your take? Gimme the good, the bad, and the missed opportunities.

Tekken 8 Story Thoughts

hello hello hello. Tekken 8 spoilers ahead, I'll put them under the cut.

First off, I have to say I'm having a really good time. I enjoyed playing through story mode, I enjoyed the character episodes. I'm loving customising characters, I'm looking forward to my fight stick arriving and learning some cool new combos and playing with mates.

Everything feels really nice, looks very cool (aside from some giant shoulders and oddly proportioned necks), and I adore little touches like Jin and Hwoarang getting to wear each other's clothes.

Story mode.

Well, what can I say.

It's as I feared, really. Honestly, all I can say is that there's a deep lack of appreciation for the skill of writing in the video game world. One day, perhaps Tekken will hire people who care about stories, about plot, about character development and character presentation. There is no conflict in the Tekken 8 story. I know this sounds weird given that 90% of it is Jin and Kazuya punching each other, but here's an example of what I mean:

Leo meets their father for the first time in nearly 15 years. It happens off screen.

Lars goes from wanting to kill Jin, to forgiving him. It happens off screen.

Kazuya goes from having life ambition 'kill Heihachi' to developing a philosophy that advocates the enslavement of the world to his will. It happens off screen.

Hwoarang travels back from the Middle East with one eye; Claudio decides to stop being conniving and instead genuinely help Xiao; Lee builds airships and perfects battlesuits; the UN decides to work with Yggdrasil despite Lars gunning down their troops in TK7. All of this happens off screen.

And still Kazuya and Jin do not manage to have a single conversation. The closest we get is in chapter one, where Kazuya accuses Jin of being just like him. Jin fears, rightly, later, that Kazuya is right, but he's essentially told that if he chooses to be nicer, then no they're not the same. There's no consequences for his actions as head of the Zaibatsu, no real conflict between Jin and any of the people he's hurt, not even Alisa, who sits down for a heart to heart with him and never brings up the way he forced her to hurt Lars and spoke of her as merely a tool and not a person. There is conflict in this story but no Conflict. No drama. No points of difficulty that require meaningful resolution.

And instead we have trite versions of a story that boil down Jin's conundrum to one of acceptance of a force that has destroyed his life, literally torn apart his friends, eaten people, and been a source of torture to him. He's told 'just accept it's a part of you!' as if this is about a surface level appearance, rather than a violence that has destroyed everything he loves, and that he can see the consequences of in Kazuya. I think Devil Jin was treated poorly and tritely in this story, and that if one wants a 'redemption' acceptance for this devil power, it has to come with interrogation and recognition of the way it has hurt Jin and those around him. It canonically hospitalised Hwoarang, and there's no awareness of this in the story.

That said, I really, truly loved this line from Jin to his mother's apparition.

It moved me emotionally in a way that no other video game cutscene has, and for all its misdoings, I'm so pleased this was included in Tekken 8. This is a deeply Jin line to me, written by someone who understands him. Jin's suicidal tendencies have been a recurring theme ever since Devil first awoke, and post-TK6 this is exacerbated further. There's no one on earth who hates Jin more than Jin, and him needing the desire to live as an important part of his strength against Kazuya, is really well done. I wish we could have seen more from Jin conencting with his uncles, Xiao, and Hwoarang to achieve this state of mind, but I commend the sentiment anyway.

When he asked his mother and she granted him the ability to help him, I thought for sure this was going to be about purification. In a way I suppose it was, but I was very tired and unimpressed by Angel Jin. From the overdesign to yet another emphasis on pure violence to defeat Kazuya, I was just completely uninterested. This uninterest was momentarily suspended when they lost their Devil powers, something I thought was brave and interesting of them to do. Somehow this changed absolutely nothing though, and Jin and Kaz don't even pause for a conversation really before they go on.

I do think it's in character for Kazuya to consider his Devil a tool to use for an end, but I think that's much more something he'd say than actually feel. He's had Devil's power with him since he was five years old, and he's relied on it time and again to save him, I think internally he'd be terrified of losing it. Devil is all that's stood between Kazuya and Heihachi for all his life. There's some trite remark about Devil Jin trying to 'protect Jin'. This is only true in so far as DJ awoke when Heihachi gunned Jin down. Devil Kazuya, however, has kept Kazuya alive all his life, and given him the strength to survive in a world where he's constantly been at Heihachi's mercy. Kazuya's desire to live is absolutely what fuelled him all his life, and his need for power comes out of that survival. His infatuation with power grows beyond this, and after Heihachi's death, we see how warped and out of control this grows, but I feel there are deep inconsistencies in the Tekken 8 story because no one ever sat down to really think about Kazuya's relationship with his Devil, and what that might mean for what they were spinning for Jin.

That said, someone was drinking the good stuff when they wrote this:

This is Kazuya's only good line in Tekken 8, in my humble opinion. It's the one moment where they let him have a tiny bit of actual characterisation. They hint at tying his motivations back into experiences linked to fear and lack of control. It's such a shame, because they acheived this much better in Tekken 7, where they drew clear parallels between the childhood trauma Kazuya faced and his final fight against Heihachi. And yet they leave his motivations again in obscurity in this game, leaving the majority of people, including Jin, none the wiser for why he is doing this other than to be evil for evil's sake.

Why does Jin never ask him about Jun? Or mention that he's been seeing his mother? Why does he not talk about purification linked to being a Kazama? Why has he got so much time for thinking about his own difficulties, but never seeks to ask about Kazuya's? One of the reasons I love Kazuya as a character is because he revels in his own villainhood, and will never volunteer a justification for his actions in the way Heihachi or Jin would. He would rather be seen as cruel than as weak. And it's weakness to him to admit or even evaluate within himself why it is that he needs to be all powerful. But that means that, narratively, he needs a foil to play across from him, and ask the questions that will otherwise never be raised. He needs someone like Jin, or Jun, or Lee, who knows him or has the interest in understanding him, to force him to speak about his past.

There's so much missing from this game, I don't really know where to start. I was discussing this with friends, and we feel like someone on the team had some vision, and was trying to do something interesting, but they were largely shot down at every turn by whoever watched Blood Rebellion and wanted that but 2 hours longer and no cute refridgerator scene.

I can't believe I played all of Tekken 8 and I still don't know if Jun is alive, or why Jin isn't being held accountable for his actions, or why Jin and Kazuya even have any beef. Tekken 7 left us with so many questions and Tekken 8 answers basically none of them. At least they managed to tie more of the cast into this game? But then why did everyone just forget about Zafina and Claudio when they collapsed? Don't they care? Where did Hwoarang go? He got on a bike in that fight then never had a battlefield fight or appeared in front of the Sanctum at Yakushima. Why don't Victor or Raven care about Lars defying them last game? Is Raven salty that Jin blew up a helicopter with him (maybe) and all his men in it? Does Jin hear Azazel return to life? Is he affected by it? That MF was talking in his head for months. If Kazuya could have defeated Azazel so easily, why did he just waltz off in TK6?

I do like the idea that the 'two evil stars colliding' as the end of Azazel being Jin and Kazuya destroying each others devils, forshadowed in TK6 and brought to conclusion here, but all the meaning and interest in this is destroyed by whatever they're trying to do with Reina. I cannot expressed how frustrated I am with her as a character. I suppose perhaps she's from the Devil-Human Integration period of research Heihachi undertook, though my understanding was that he never retrieved Devil cells that were needed for the research, or he would have injected himself with Devil. Perhaps Reina was part of a programme that continued on where Steve and the supersoldier programme were left off. I don't know. I just know that it takes a way a lot of impact that could have meant exploring a devil-free Tekken game in future.

One thing I do Not want to see, is Tekken 9 waltzing in with Kazuya suddenly being a good guy, teaming up with Jin and fighting Reina. Not without serious weight and reflection on his actions, or discussing the corrupting influence of Devil over him. And I've lost a lot of faith in Tekken really understanding their characters or story-writing enough to do this.

I didn't even get on to character episodes, but I think I've rambled enough for one day! Thank you for the asks.

#tekken 8 #tekken 8 spoilers #tekken #asks #tekken thoughts

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birdmomblogs · 1 year

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Content Warnings: This post discusses or mentions capital punishment, child abuse, execution, fascism, genocide, homicide, Nazis, politics, prison, and transphobia.

*****

"The Lemkin Institute [for Genocide Prevention] believes that the so-called “gender critical movement” that is behind [USA anti-trans legislation] is a fascist movement furthering a specifically genocidal ideology that seeks the complete eradication of trans identity from the world."

As I write this on April 22nd 2023, a total of 498 anti-trans bills have been introduced in the USA during 2023 alone. 19% of these bills have failed (96/498). 9% have passed (43/498). 72% of these bills are still being actively considered (359/498). This is already 286% more anti-trans bills introduced in 4 months than in the entirety of 2022 (176 bills were introduced in 2022). These bills affect;

ability to change sex marker on legal documents

preferred name usage

personal pronoun usage

access to gender-affirming care

student athletes

student bathroom usage

drag performers

and more!

This puts parents of trans children, educators, health care providers and more at risk for simply advocating for trans children. This puts trans adults and drag performers at risk. This puts trans children at risk.

Punishment for breaking anti-trans legislation is at risk of being as worse as imprisonment for life or the death penalty.

Example 1: Bill amendments HB - 4257, would define any person (including parents, doctors, coaches, teachers, etc.) involved in the gender transition of a minor as a child abuser, punishable by imprisonment for life. This bill amendment proposal has been continuously reintroduced with no sign of stopping until passed.

Example 2: "Drag ban" bills such as SB - 1438 and SB - 1698 broadly label drag as sexual conduct to "protect minors" from them. States then proceed to pass bills such as SB - 1342 that can allow sexual crimes against children to be punishable by death. Do you see the connection and how uncanny the timeline of the introduction or passing of these bills is? More than 4% of those executed are innocent but this percentage is likely higher in reality due to racial bias, economic inequality, etc. This number will only increase with prejudice against the LGBTQ+ community being legalized.

There are only 3 other accounts of trans genocide that have occurred globally:

During Nazi Germany (1920-1945), the Institute for Sexual Research was looted and destroyed. The Institute worked toward improving gender-affirming surgery and advocated for trans rights. Trans and gender non-conforming individuals faced forced detransitions and sentences to concentration camps. In 2022, Germany ruled that claiming trans people were not targeted by Nazis as denial of Nazi crimes, which is punishable by a prison sentence.

In Indonesia during the 1960s, a Bugis gender identity known as the bissu, faced violent persecution, torture and execution, with sacred ceremonies being banned. Bissu persecution in the Pancasila Republic of Indonesia continues to this day. In 2022, it was declared that these people are close to extinction.

Brazil has experienced the most annual transgender-targeted homicides since 2009. That's 14 years in a row. Many trans homicides go unreported, misreported or uninvestigated. The methods of murder are becoming increasingly more violent and organized. Transphobia continues to run rampant in Brazil due to the lack of legal protections and encouragement from politicians.

The one stage of genocide that the United States has not yet reached, like these other 3 countries, is execution. Do not let it get to that stage.

Anti-trans legislation is not about protecting women, children, etc. Its sole purpose is to silence and control, leading to the erasure of trans identities. The longer this continues the easier it is for transphobes to spread their harmful ideology and get away with it. I am privileged to have the opportunity to live in Canada, but in recent years even I have experienced and witnessed increasing numbers of transphobic incidents. Although not violent, the ideology is there. Hate spreads like a plague.

Be vigilant when following the news and make some noise about this with your own state officials. Even if you aren't American, label it like the genocide it is. Don't be silent about this. I've listed two resources below that I think will be helpful next steps once you finish reading this post. Feel free to also share your own resources in reblogs! Thank you!

***** About me: I am a trans and queer individual with a B.Sc. in Agriculture and International Development. Currently, I am working towards applying for graduate school. Research interests include food security, indigenous peoples, the LGBT community and historical aspects of human rights development.

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kazhanko-art · 1 year

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It continues to astound me that westerners will say shit like “yes Russia has done bad, bUt uKrAinE hAs DoNe bAD tHinGS tOo”

The vast majority of people aren’t denying that Ukraine is an imperfect country. The majority of people are aware there are bad parts about Ukraine. The vast majority of people will not deny that there are bad Ukrainians.

Anyone with a brain will know that a the population of a country of around forty million is going to have people who aren’t perfect little saints about being invaded. No I would not be surprised to hear there have been Ukrainian soldiers who committed war crimes; quite frankly I’d be shocked if after all the looting, abductions, tortures, mutilations, rapes, murders, destruction and whatever other horrendous thing the Russians have done I found out not a single person maybe sought revenge for that (and no I’m not saying warcrimes are okay but Jesus Christ use your brain for five seconds. It’s a war, of course not everything will be heroic and nice)

Sure, that stuff will need it’s prosecution in due time, and sure, there’s probably things you could reasonably criticize the Ukrainian government and army for (incidentally, many Ukrainian journalists continue to do so, even in English, but who’s counting)

The thing is that most of you who bring up Ukrainian faults use it to distract from the fundamental reality of this war: Russia is invading Ukraine and committing genocide. The victims of genocide and invasion shouldn’t have to be saints for you to not treat these sides as equal. Because they aren’t.

Believe it or not that applies to the victims of imperialism, colonialism, and war in general. I don’t know why we in the west have this obsession with perfect victims, but it has to stop. Even when we advocate for victims we act as though they were these beacons of life rather than tackling the simple truth that genocide, mass murder, and oppression are simply not justified, regardless of how “good” or “bad” the victims are.

People are flawed, cultures are flawed, so stop with this shit of “who has committed the most sins” so we can get back to genocide being wrong, thanks

#ukraine #stand with ukraine #westsplaining #apologies to my non western friends and siblings #i’m sorry people here have such sticks up their asses about your suffering #genocide #war #fuck russia #colonialism #imperialism #ukrainian

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thegreymoon · 22 days

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The Story of Minglan

Oh, Minglan.

This is what happens when you take the attitude of "It's no big deal if my husband sleeps with morally questionable other women." 🙄

I am fully on his side on this issue but I feel like hasn't done a good enough job of expressing just how disgusting he personally finds these concubines that everyone keeps trying to force on him. Minglan has been brainwashed by the patriarchy and it will take her a while to find her ground and feel secure enough to put her foot down, but what is stopping him from advocating for himself?

My guy, just say NO.

***

LMAO, he's the ruthless and stupid one?

Chang'er's death is his fault? I cannot with this evil narcissist.

***

Fuck you.

Maybe if your garbage ass had not kidnapped him, he wouldn't have gotten sick. And if he had, they would have been able to afford a doctor.

***

I hope he really rips her limb from limb.

The more I see of her and of Lin Qinshuang, the more valid I find Mo Ran for deep-frying fucking Song Qiutong.

***

Unfortunately, Minglan talked him out of torturing her to death 😕

***

LOL, let's hope that at least the piece of shit maternal uncle gets tortured.

***

Please tell me we will get to see a beheading 😭

I am so sick and tired of these people. They have been trying to murder Gu Tingye for fifty episodes now. I am so done 😭😭

***

I love it when cats make guest appearances in dramas 💙

***

Hell person.

***

In general, I am not pleased with how this story has handled Manniang and her children. It all seems sanitised and on easy mode for Minglan because the true circumstances of him having this whole family before marrying her diminishes the romance as it is and making it any more realistic would probably have snapped a lot of people out of rooting for the main couple because they could no longer idealise it.

I mean, look at this:

If this show was realistic, the odds are that Rong-jie, with a vindictive, abusive, neglectful biological mother who abandoned her like this, would have taken all that trauma out on Minglan because this is how kids tend to react in such situations. She would have given her stepmother hell because she was there and a convenient target, while the narcissistic, toxic, neglectful bio mother was not.

Also, killing Chang-er is the writers taking the easy way out because now they have eliminated Gu Tingye's eldest son and possible heir from competing with Minglan's children for the title and the wealth. It's such a cop-out. With Chang-er in the picture, the only way Minglan's children could inherit would be if Gu Tingye refused to acknowledge him as a son, which would absolutely destroy his image and tank the character in the eyes of the viewers.

This way, Minlgan's children get all the benefits without her having to fight for them at the detriment of Tingye's older children and Tingye gets to preserve his image of a doting and responsible father, putting all the negative connotations of his irresponsible first common-law marriage onto the evil Manniang. Gu Tingye and Minglan maintain their noble images and Manniang is scapegoated to enable this. It just leaves me feeling a lot of ick.

It may be unfair of me, but I respect the writing on this show a whole lot less because of these decisions. The truth is, overall, this drama is better written than 99% of other dramas so I feel extremely weird getting hung up on this and letting it get so magnified in my head, but I feel like the fact that the rest of this drama is so realistic and well-written works against them here. There are standards here that were set and I am expecting the rest of the story to proceed on that level, but these standards are no longer being met because meeting them implies compromising the untarnished image of the main characters. It is so convenient and such an obvious cop-out, that I genuinely feel swindled and somewhat salty about it.

***

So selfish and so fucking evil.

What did Rong-jie ever do to her?

She is the one who abandoned her, she's the one who took the boy out and caused his death. She will just blame anyone except herself for her shit selfish decisions.

***

WTF.

Rong-jie is going to need so much therapy, which is unfortunately not a thing in Song Dynasty China.

***

Fucking finally, some good decisions.

***

Oh, yeah, Xiaotao and Shito are definitely a thing.

***

So gorgeous 🧡

Definitely a potential reference pic.

***

She is the poster child for an untreated personality disorder.

I'm so glad I live in the XXI century where mental health care is available, not that it prevents a whole lot of people from still acting like this and blowing up entire lives.

***

Don't you worry, evildoer, your comeuppance is also coming!

#the story of minglan #tsoml spoilers #tsom ep50

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bonefall · 5 months

Note

the whole thing with the author defending (?) tom the wife beater is so repulsive, and then you read it again and i don’t think bumble is mentioned ONCE. she scrounges for sympathy with turtle tail, but the other one? the fat, useless, other one? forget her! (this is negative towards the authors, i adore the better bones stuff, esp how bumble is treated. vote bumble :) )

I really cannot get over it... to angrily write out a whole screed on how the strongest punishment is regret and not consequence, compare the sentiment of a reader that "Tom didn't deserve heaven" to his physical abuse of Turtle Tail, and then not even mention his other crimes of kidnapping and torture.

Even in death, Bumble isn't important enough to mention. As the books continue, they even continue to only mention her death as an unfortunate accident, or evidence of why kittypets can't join Clans. Even though she was MURDERED.

I think the statement is a good exercise in the difference between a post advocating rehabilitative justice, and abuse apologia just dressed up as it.

There IS a point to be made about how the idea of a Hell/Prison just makes bad people worse. We often have a desire to punish, because we FEEL better getting catharsis seeing A Bad Guy suffer like they hurt others. But that alone doesn't really fix or address a problem.

For example, it's really common to feel that kind of revulsion at a drug addict who robs a convenience store for money. Does it actually reduce addiction rates, or undo the trauma of the assaulted cashier, or help prevent it from ever happening again to throw the robber in a broken prison where they come out, 7 years later, with no rehabilitation?

The answer is no. It didn't help anyone. 7 years pass and he's still addicted to substances, possibly even worse, because prison just made his life shittier. As a leftist we can recognize that compassion is usually the answer.

(Unless, of course... someone needs to be removed from a position of power or actively prevented from attacking others. Violence is the answer sometimes.)

But the thing is, the author didn't SAY that. What they did was compare the impulse for catharsis, to TOM'S DESIRE TO BEAT HIS WIFE.

NO, those are NOT the same thing. Your desire for comeuppance towards a wifebeater character getting a redemption reward for "saving his child" after a long life of cruelty without consequences, is NOT THE SAME as Tom the Wifebeater inflicting pain and suffering on people out of spite.

She had to phrase it in the worst possible way for this argument to even LOOK like it made sense. "She broke HIS rule of Don't Be Mean To Tom" vs "He broke YOUR rule of Don't Be Mean To Turtle Tail." And "Now he's being taught how to be lovely"

Physical abuse, emotional abuse, and kidnapping are not "being mean" and it's both sick and insightful that she'd call it that

Domestic abuse is not a "failure to be lovely," it's the act of harming your family or partner to control them.

Tom the Wifebeater is a character who was not written with a scrap of nuance. He is not a real person. All they did with him was consistently show how much pleasure hurting people gives him, then say him dying for his biokid absolved everything

So in this series where you establish there are Born Evil Truly Malicious people (ONE EYE IS IN THE SAME BOOK), but then turn around to cry that Tom the Wifebeater can be made lovely off-screen...

You end up saying that domestic abuse isn't in your arbitrary "evil" category.

And that's so fucking fitting for the arc of Clear Sky's "redemption," where the same book ends off on Thunder saying that his abusive, woman-killing dad wasn't so bad all along because he's not like One Eye.

The answer's just that simple. They don't think male abuse is all that terrible because it's the same as an impulse; explicitly not malice. So it doesn't make you "evil," and only "evil" people deserve the Dark Forest.

(Dont question the Dark Forest as a concept or how starclan defines evil though :x dont worry about it :x)

#Anyway thank u it is my honorbound duty to give all the women a kiss on the head in BB #Bone babble #I should go back and tag these as Tom Authorial Statement or something

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faust-the-enjoyer · 21 days

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Important political rant about the COD fandom:

So. As a SWANA person, it fucking tears me apart seeing people promote and advocate voting for genocide joe. And ever since i was little, i've heard plenty about the war crimes committed in SWANA countries by the usa. So now, seeing you guys say "vote for biden!" because apparently he'll give you your rights is....sickening to say the least. What about the right of muslims in the usa? What about Palestinians? Iraqis? Syrians? And plenty of others, don't forget about the blood on the hands of your presidents.

You care about no one but yourselves, in true american fashion. Your worthless society is built on selfishness and blood. You hold no glory or honour.

Did it not affect you? Seeing lists of Palestinian families killed and wiped out? Children aged only a couple of months, killed? People stuck under the rubble? People tortured? It broke me. Because I'm a SWANA person. It broke me. Because it's genocide, because it's inhuman and cruel and sick and not enough words can expressed horrible how it actually is. It broke me. Because they look like us, because they have the same names as many of us have, because they speak the same tongue many of us do. But it didn't affect you? It didn't break you?

To be americanised is to lose your humanity. And to be westernized is to lose your humanity.

All you care about is yourselves. Your rights, your lives, your comfort, your people, it's always "me me me", never anyone else.

I hope your country falls. From the deepest part of my heart, i hope your country falls and collapses and i hope that i see its death. You smell like blood.

Just vote for a third party and don't vote for a genocidal piece of shit. And no, in case you're fucking stupid, I'm not saying it's any better to vote for Trump. Or maybe it's really difficult for you to let go of your selfishness, your racism, your anti-arab sentiment, your islamophobia. Maybe it's really reaaally difficult on you.

Do me a favour. Block me if you're pro-American military, were or are or will be in the military, or you wanna vote for and promote the voting for genocide joe. I don't want pieces of human shit around me.

#faust speaks #important #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mwiii #cod mw3 #call of duty

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zeroar · 1 year

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An Open Letter to the People Who Support Autism Speaks

Autism Speaks is eighteen years old. The age they should start dismissing themselves as being an authority on autism like they do with autistic adults if they cared about consistency at all.

They were founded in 2005 by a couple of Hollywood executives who grieved the diagnosis of their grandchild. This was a full dozen years after the seminal "Don't Mourn For Us" by Jim Sinclair was penned and presented.

From the beginning, Autism Speaks was anti-autism. They sought a "cure" they could use to erase our existence from the planet, they fomented anti-vax conspiracies which are still plaguing our society today, and they fostered and continue to foster an environment supportive and understanding of child-murder.

But. They were connected to celebrity. And they had the endowment and reach to become the largest anti-autism group in the nation and world.

The primary method of advertising which Autism Speaks used from the beginning is known as "fear appeal".

Typically, they frame autistic children as changeling-like creatures which replace the allistic or neurotypical child you had with one which will never love you and will tear apart your family.

Autism Speaks spotlights the worst of having an autistic family member and pulls the drapes on any mitigating circumstances or assistance. They emphasize the burden we are and the harm caused to our families by our existence.

Autism Speaks then goes on to frame themselves as being the solution and the experts on everything autism. They say, don't listen to autistic people, listen to their parents and other people who have been negatively affected by their existence. Listen to these cherry-picked examples.

They talk vaguely about support for autistic children and families while they campaign ceaselessly to find the genes which contributed to making us... so they can unmake us.

As you might expect for people who frame themselves as being the victim of their children's existences, they have been easily taken in by snake-oil salesmen and conspiracy theorists.

To this day, Autism Speaks continues to emphasize the "environmental causes of autism" even while fully knowing (from the millions of dollars of research they put in pursuing a debunked study) that autism appears to be primarily genetic and our environment really only affects our presentations as autistic, not our realities as autistic.

"Environmental causes" is a dog whistle for vaccines because they no longer feel it is profitable for them to explicitly encourage widespread death and alternative disabilities of children, so they have started only alluding to it and finally, years after the study was debunked and retracted, agree that vaccines do not cause autism.

"Environmental causes" is also a dog whistle for things like heavy metal poisoning causing autism and various other external things that can be "taken care of" via chelation therapy and bleaching our insides. Yes, Autism Speaks is at least partially responsible for spreading bleach "cures".

I believe they've taken it down since I first started advocating for SPLC to recognize Autism Speaks as a hate group—something autistic persons have recognized for years—but as recently as a year ago they were still directing people to seek out these "cures".

They worded it in such a way that it was, "These 'cures' do not work and can cause harm, but you should talk to people who tried them for their children and see for yourself."

It's cruelty for cruelty's sake. Or it's believing scientifically disproven things in a way that promotes the torture of children.

Which brings us to arguably their biggest crime against humanity and against autistic people specifically thus far: the advancement of behaviorism or behavioral conditioning as the "treatment" for autism.

Behaviorism, that is, conversion therapy torture. When done on autistic people, it is commonly called ABA or PBS.

This is another reason why they cling to "environmental causes", because behaviorism is entirely consumed with external presentation.

Autism is a pervasive neurological state which colors every aspect of our lives. Their "solution" is to deny our reality, break us to their will, and have us pretend to be "normal".

Through their efforts, they have ensured conversion therapy is not just used, but frequently the only choice for covered treatment of autistic children.

I say "choice", but the torture is sometimes court-mandated (and this is more common when the parents are marginalized-by-society in some way themselves).

Autism Speaks is so very proud of their government influence. Shortly before I started the petition, I watched in horror as their testimony scuttled a bill at the state level intended to help autistic children which had the support of their parents because not enough torture was included in the "help".

People say they've "changed", yet it's not like their institution is so hallowed and sacrosanct that it is necessary to keep around even as it is continues to encourage harm and death to autistic children and autistic adults.

Autism Speaks is the multi-headed hydra of anti-autism rhetoric and hate in the world today. They have so many branches and have infiltrated so deeply that many of their supporters ( I hope ) are not even aware of the hateful rhetoric and active harm they spread.

People tend not to even question the premise that autistic humans are better off dead than alive, people have for ages not even thought of us as human. Autism Speaks recommends starting behavioral conditioning as early as possible in children as young as two. The least intensive programs they recommend are for dozens of hours a week.

This is what they recommend, push, and lobby for with *all* autistic children.

If they become able to accurately recognize autism in a fetus, then their genocide and eugenics will only accelerate. I am pro-abortion, but no one should be coerced into an abortion with lies and one-sided propaganda.

Showing hateful rhetoric and catastrophizing about our existence to a newly pregnant person is similarly abominable as the sort of thing anti-choice people do.

Autism Speaks has not changed, though they have gotten better at pretending normality. Maybe they put themselves through conversion therapy torture to learn how to pretend to be a force of good while being sympathetic of child murderers?

Or, you know, they've hired publicists and PR people.

If you were duped by them, I'm sorry that their hate is not more well-known. Can you imagine if the first place you felt supported you and understood your struggles was the bad guy? Who would think that by default?

But they are the bad guy. And they're using you. Preying on your isolation and desire for community and support.

They start early. Constant public outreach. Working with cops. University chapters. There may even be entire branches under their umbrella that are actively dedicated to good. But they support the hate and harm by supporting Autism Speaks.

If you support Autism Speaks, then you support the elimination of autism.

If you believe their fear-driven propaganda designed to earn more money for themselves, that may sound like a good thing to you.

But you cannot eliminate autism without eliminating the autistic person, too.

We cannot turn off our autism, some of us can pretend normality—frequently to our great misfortune—but others can't do that either. It's similar to what happens when you force queer people through conversion therapy torture / behaviorism regimes.

There is not some hidden switch in our brains to "fix" us. Even if there was, we would not be ourselves, we would be different people. You cannot separate autism from the autistic.

If this letter spoke to you, I hope you will consider signing my petition to get the Southern Poverty Law Center to track anti-disability hate and to recognize Autism Speaks as an anti-autism group.

You can find the petition here:

Thank you for reading, Zero Richardson

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #neurodivergent #neurodiversesquad #behaviorism is torture #aba is abuse #autism speaks #autism speaks is a hate group #autism acceptance #autism awareness #acceptance not awareness #red instead #splc #southern poverty law center

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igncrxntripley · 1 year

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deal with a demon pt. 2

synopsis: y/n is confronted - by her family, her memories, and a demon - after sealing her fate at wrestlemania.

a/n: i know we’re rewriting wrestlemania a bit here but let’s just go with it...also i’m obsessed with this so i hope you enjoy - and credit to @auburnwrites for helping me brainstorm and work out details bc she’s literally so talented and smart

mentions: overall SFW, flashbacks to extreme rules and royal rumble, mentions of attacks/chairshots/minor injuries, cursing, fem!reader, daughter!reader, betrayal

taglist: @auburnwrites @babybatlover @ripleyswhore @ares-athena

royal rumble, 2023. you fully believed it was going to be your night. every year you entered the rumble, you got that much closer to being the last one standing and you had every reason to believe this would be your year. that was, until it all came down crashing and burning. it hadn’t even been ten minutes in the stadium before you felt someone grabbing you from behind to throw you into a nearby crate. the assault continued, that person who eventually revealed themselves to be rhea throwing punch after punch until you were left writhing on the floor in pain. the laughter echoed behind her from the boys as you writhed and groaned in anguish. “where’s your daddy when you need him, huh princess?” she mocked before walking away with the judgement day in tow.

the numbness in your back didn’t even register until an official came up to you to get medical help, and you barely felt yourself rolling over to hopefully get up on two feet. everything you worked for was slowly burning into ashes, and it was all thanks to four people who had nothing better to do than torture your family.

you weren’t able to compete that night. quite frankly, it was devastating and you would spend the next few weeks nursing yourself back to health after a minor muscle injury. but there was only one person you wanted to see that night; one person, who just so happened to be making his own return to the ring and was more focused on him than he was on his daughter. one person, who didn’t stop by medical to see you. he didn’t even bother texting or calling until the rumble was over. but at that point, you were too focused on yourself and your own career to even register the significant shift in your relationship with edge.

--- ---

you took your time walking away from the steel cage; never in your life, let alone your career, had you heard so many people both cheering and booing you. at the end of the day, they had no clue what kind of deal or conversation you had with finn backstage. the fans didn’t know the true y/n - they only knew you for being edge’s daughter. the kid who only got this far in her career because your dad was a hall of famer. they didn’t know what you truly had to bring to this industry, but by god were you about to show them.

everyone backstage looked at you in utter shock in disbelief once you walked through gorilla. you didn’t bother looking at any of them either - you didn’t owe a single one of them an explanation for what you did. you spent your entire life, your entire career answering to people who only saw you as the kid of one of the industry’s finest. none of them deserved to know what was running through your mind, and you made your escape from them before they could even start that conversation.

walking through backstage felt like a blur. your coworkers and other superstars looked at you in utter shock and disbelief, just as you did when the judgement day turned on your dad and tortured him for the last how many months.

“y/n! honey, y/n!” you heard behind you, recognizing that voice as none other than beth’s. the woman who helped raise you as her own, someone who’d advocated for you all throughout your life and gave you the strength to reach your dreams when no one else could...fuck, your heart broke hearing your voice.

beth caught up to you and held your arm, turning you to face her. you saw the pain in her face, which barely mirrored the crazed look in yours. “i don’t want to hear it.” you said through gritted teeth before she could even say anything.

“i don’t care, y/n.” she said, both of her hands holding your biceps now. you looked away from her, knowing that it was going to make you regret everything. “honey, why? you know what they’ve done to your father! our family!” beth was right; you did know. not only did you know what the judgement day had done to your family, you were at the receiving end of it.

--- ---

extreme rules, philly. your dad was going into an ‘i quit’ match with finn to end all of this once and for all. he didn’t care anymore about whether the judgement day stuck around, he just wanted them to leave your family alone. not only did he make that clear during the match, but you and beth did as well. both of you interfered to give your dad a leg up against finn just as the judgement day did for their member, but your efforts would be futile.

rhea not only hit beth in the face with brass knuckles, but she delivered a riptide to you on top of the chairs that would soon become your downfall. you laid next to beth, slightly more conscious than she was, and reached a hand out to try and wake her up. “mom...mom, get up!” you begged, groaning through the pain. you could hear your dad begging for the match to end behind you, muttering those two words that would hopefully put this whole thing to rest.

you knew your dad; he didn’t do this because he didn’t have pride. your dad had too much pride if anything - but when it came to his family, he wasn’t going to risk that for a match and some cameras. but you didn’t even realize rhea was behind you, a damned metal chair in her hands that would eventually meet yours and beth’s bodies.

as you floated in and out of consciousness, hearing the laughter of the judgement day behind you and the screams of officials calling for medical, your dad joined your side and had a hand on both you and beth. “dad...” you began, but edge shushed you and ran a hand through your hair.

“i know, honey. i’m so sorry.” he begged softly, rey coming back into the ring as well and checking on your family. he’d known you just as long as anyone else backstage as you practically grew up with dominik, which made this hurt just as much for all of you. none of this was over, by any means. but that night in philadelphia changed your relationship with your dad for the foreseeable future.

--- ---

the memories of that night alone sent shivers down your spine. but you had to put it behind you in order to achieve what you wanted in your career. things that your dad never had planned for you. “dad doesn’t care about me. this was never about us, mom!” she may not have given birth to you, but beth was the closest thing to a mom you’ve ever had. and while you were pissed at your dad, you still loved your parents. you needed to cut the chord though, and show them and the world that you deserved to be here.

as if on cue, the man you betrayed was making his way backstage and saw beth pleading with you. he didn’t waste any time either in coming over to both of you, his own large hands trying to cup your face. “baby-”

you swat his hands away. “don’t touch me, and don’t call me that.” venom laced your voice as you sat those words to your father. they both looked at you in shock and horror, not even sure where this was coming from. “you’re really going to act like this wasn’t coming your way, dad? you played me like i was some toy. you built me up just to drop me and forget i even existed!” you choked on your own voice as the pent up emotion finally began to release itself.

“if they’re trying to convince you that being apart of their group is any better, they’re wrong y/n.” edge begged, his own emotion lacing his voice and his eyes full of desperation. “they’re going to chew you up and spit you right back out. they have done nothing but hurt you and the people you care about, and you really believe being on their side is the better option?”

revisiting those memories from the rumble and extreme rules only caused you to tear up. the anger, the frustration, and the pain was all coming up at once; you were ready to put it all to bed, though. and you made that clear with your dad as you answered his question. “you’ve hurt me just as much, dad. and i’m not letting you hurt me anymore.”

--- ---

the confrontation with your parents ended after you walked away; the looks on their faces continued to haunt you, made your stomach churn at the thought of what you’d done. but you were ready to leave that behind so you could finally begin building up your own reputation.

the thoughts raced through your mind like roadrunners as you packed your bags in the dressing room, and you were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t even hear the presence behind you in the doorway.

“you made the right choice.”

his voice made you jump; holding your chest, you turned to look at a freshly cleaned finn with a bandage on top of his head, and this demeanor from him was already vastly different than what had originally visited you or what you saw in the ring. he was...softer. he looked like a real person, and not some crazed maniac that had been chasing your dad and family for the last year.

finn stepped closer to you, and for once you didn’t back away from fear or a desire to be as far away as possible from him. “you did something brave out there, y/n. something a lot of people wouldn’t have the balls to do.”

you but your lip and looked down at the merch you were folding - a rated r superstar t-shirt that you’d always wear out to the ring to support your dad - and debated even putting it back in your bag. sadly your heart won this one, and you put it in your suitcase as you answered finn. “and i feel like garbage for it.” you admitted softly.

the demon - no, finn - gave a small nod. “and it’ll feel that way at first.” he acknowledged. “but you and i have a lot of work ahead of us, so you better kick it into gear.”

confusion filled your face as he spoke, but finn was quick to respond in order to clear it up. “i said i was going to get you a championship; you thought i wouldn’t help you along the way?” he smirked, sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. “the others aren’t too thrilled about this and they don’t fully trust you, but i’m planning on investing a lot of time in this little endeavor y/n.” he crossed his arms. “you have a lot to prove, yeah? and this doesn’t make you one of us...just yet. and only if you wanted.” he winked.

you couldn’t avoid the slightly nauseous feeling in your stomach as you sat on the couch. you were excited, thrilled to be doing this and finally getting an opportunity to prove that you were more than a hall of famer’s daughter. but at the same time, you needed to confront your fear of the judgement day when they weren’t even fully convinced you were worthy of this. but you nodded silently in response to finn, both of you exchanging small smiles to show you were on the same page.

goodbye, ‘daughter of the rated-r superstar’; hello, y/n.

#wwe the judgement day imagine #wwe imagine #wwe the judgement day #wwe x reader #wwe finn balor #finn balor #finn balor imagine #finn balor x reader #finn balor headcanons #{:deal with a demon:}#{:finn balor:}#{:the judgement day:}

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