#describing their behavior as 'childish' is just awful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

midnighmoonligh · 4 months

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Fandom

Call of Duty

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Characters

Y/N ; Gender Neutral ;; They/Them ;; little

John Price ; Male ; He/Him ; CG

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⚠Content Warnings⚠

Being yelled at, impure regression, & involuntary regression. Cursing!

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Plot summary

Price yells at you for your childish habits. He didn't mean to, just snapped at y/n. He regretted it immediately.

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You weren’t allowed to like “childish” things as a kid. So you did those things now, as an adult. You enjoyed your coloring, your stuffie collecting, all of it. Though you didn't really realize this was regression behavior. You didn't even know what age regression was. When you did regress, you never remembered. It was always involuntary and left a memory gap during the time you were regressed. Lucky for you, your Captain knew what regression was by now.

A small argument about something so minimal led to this. It originally was because you had moved some documents he needed to a different table in his office while helping him with some paperwork. He couldn't find them, so stressed and frustrated from work he accidentally took it out on you. You both has been arguing for almost an hour straight, despite the paperwork having been found.

" GOD DO YOU EVER JUST STOP BEING SO FUCKING IMMATURE? GROW. UP, " Price shouted at you without even thinking.

As soon as the words left John’s mouth he realized he messed up. He hadn't even meant it. His heart sank the second he had realized what he said. His mouth open and closed like a fish while he struggled to quickly scramble out the words to make it better. He knew he needed to do it fast too.

Unfortunately it was far too late. The words sank in like a blade shoved into your stomach. They burned and hurt, more so from someone who mattered so much to you. You fell quiet while your hands, having been holding some papers in an effort to help Price find more of what he needed, gently quit moving. Your heart raced as the words continued to do their damage with each passing second.

There was nothing wrong with being childish, right?

...right?

You swallowed thickly. Your eyes slowly looked to the desk as he gently set the papers down onto the surface. You made sure they didn't make a mess, however.

" I think... I'll just go to my room, " you whispered softly while your throat began to feel tight. " Sorry I couldn't be of help after all, " you added quietly.

You could see the pain in John's eyes as he realized what he had just done. He had let his anger get the better of him and had not only hurt your feelings, but had insulted your interests and regressed behavior. After the realization settled, he looked completely devastated.

" Wait... Wait! " he called out to you, " Y/N, I-. "

He didn't have the right words. He couldn't find the right words no matter how much he forced it. Price felt awful. He couldn't believe he had said it, truly didn't mean it either.

You did wait after being called. You waited after hearing his name, but after Price said nothing after for a few minutes, you made your way out of Price's office. Soon, making your way to your room in the barracks.

John watched the door shut, so soft and gentle that made the weight of what he had done even heavier than before.

" Well that's it. I've ruined this friendship. What kind of idiot does something like that? I am such an ass. "

Price groaned and dropped his head into his hands. He knew he had to apologize, but he had no idea how to even begin to make this right. He let out a long sigh and flopped down in his chair. He stayed that way for some time, just berating himself.

Once there, you couldn't even describe how upset you felt. You knew there was something wrong with you, something not normal. You didn't really know what it was, but you knew it was there. You shoved the stuffies you had into a pile by the trash as a frustrated yell escaped you. You didn't care if you were being too loud. Besides, it was late enough in the morning that everyone was awake.

Soon the anger, more hurt than anything, took over. You knocked over your desk and threw things around. Nothing broke, but the room was destroyed. Suddenly this fit came to a stop as you came across your oldest stuffie, really the only thing you had left of your childhood. You didn't have any little gear, not a single thing, but this stuffie meant more to you than any of your other ones. You hugged it and crawled into your bed, unintentionally crying yourself to sleep.

***

As Price thought about it, he finally decided to try to make things right. He got up and headed for your room. Every step was heavy, weighing down his body so much he almost tripped up the stairs. After a few minutes he reached your room faster than he had thought he would. He took in a deep breath slowly, held it for three seconds, then released it for three seconds. He repeated this action until his emotions calmed enough. He gave a short knock, before trying the knob. Much to Price's surprise, the door was unlocked.

He poked his head in the door. " Y/N I need to- " He stopped mid-sentence, seeing the sight in front of him was heart breaking. He had caused this. He had never felt so ashamed in his life.

John was speechless. But after some time he managed to croak out the words, " Y/N please let me explain. "

Hearing his voice, you began to stir. You were so tired from crying and having such an outburst. It had felt nice though getting to vent all that out.

As Price watched you stir, his heart sank. His face contorted into a look of pure heartache. He could see how childish you slept. How he had caused this. You didn't even know how to properly manage your little space. It made him want to scoop you up and take care of you forever.

After watching you stir for a few moments, he cleared his throat, and spoke in a hushed tone, " I know how I acted was awful. I am so sorry. "

He still had no solution to your problem, but the first step was admitting his mistake. He would do anything to make it up to you.

Slowly, when awake enough, you sat up and rubbed at your eyes in a childish manner. A whine escaped you from having been disturbed.

You winced at how much your head hurt. Your face was softly flushed from how much you had been crying. Your fingers still held onto the worn plush, refusing to let it go. You rubbed at your eyes more. You didn't really reply, but it had become painfully clear you had woken up little.

John had to remind himself that you were still little. You weren't doing this on purpose. You weren't acting as a child because you were. It was just how you were when you were tired.

He looked at your tired face, and his heart hurt even more. This was because of him.

He decided to try to just talk to you like you were a child.

" Can you understand me? " he asked gently.

In reply, you gave a small nod. It did not do any favor for how much your head hurt. You carefully pull your legs to your chest, squishing the stuffies between your thighs and chest. You hadn't fallen asleep with the blanket on you, your bed was the only thing that wasn't trashed.

Price felt a mixture of guilt and relief wash over him. He could see the signs of your regression. It wasn't the first time he has seen you like this. At least you had confirmed you weren't regressed in a headspace where you couldn't understand him. He wanted to ask you about who the plush was but this wasn't the right time.

" It is good you understand me. Can you please help Daddy Price do something? " he asked in a sing-song tone as a playful smile made it's way onto his lips.

You were hesitant. Though while little you didn't usually remember much from being big, you had such a gut feeling that screamed not to trust him. The feeling urged you that you were upset with him for some reason, just couldn't remember why or how. Hearing the title you perked up instantly. You gave a small nod while hugging the worn plushie to your chest.

He smiled at your reaction. He could tell that you trusted him. Even though he had hurt you, you still trusted him so much. It made him want to cry. He couldn't believe he messed up so badly.

" Can you help me fix all of this? " he said sweeping his arm to include the mess of your bedroom.

Price wanted to clean everything up for you. He didn't have to ask why the room was like this; he knew this was all due to him. You looked around at the gesture, but nodded. Your room was a mess. There was no denying that. You also knew, even regressed, it wasn't supposed to be or you'd get in trouble. You carefully got out of the bed, almost tripping from how your legs were tangeled in the blanket.

John winced as he watched you almost fall. He could see how difficult it was for you to navigate your room. Then again, it was totally trashed.

" Here, let me help you out of this blanket, " he whispered, gently taking your hand, and helping your untangle that from your legs. He let go of your hand, but made sure to stand by you to make sure you were able to walk around your room safely.

You let out a little giggle as you watched Price help you out of the blanket. Your gut feeling still reminded you to be upset with John, as much as you didn't want to be. So you stopped giggling and pouted again. You gently set the stuffie on the bed while you started doing your best putting your room together, though your motor skills had clearly decreased. You had a hard time doing so.

John felt his heart wrench as he watched you struggle. He had to step in after a moment, and assist you in organizing your room.

" Daddy will take care of the big stuff like sorting the blankets. "

He was trying hard to be gentle with you, like he would be with a child. Your motor skills were clearly that of a little. The way he called himself daddy only made you feel smaller to. It never failed to make you happy, help you feel safe even. Price gently picked up the bedding and tucked it to be tighter. He gently set the stuffie you had set down more in the center by your pillows. After, he got distracted with picking up your desk and more harmful items, like your favorite gun and your knives.

You gave a small smile and sniffle at the words. You nodded and moved to put your stuffies away, removing them from the trash and putting them on your desk where you usually kept them. Your little mind wondered why they had been there. It was mean and unfair. They didn't deserve to be there. During your efforts, you ended up getting distracted with playing with them and hugging them. You had completely forgotten about the task at hand.

John paused what he was doing. He just couldn't help but smile when he saw how cute you were. That was when reality hit him. You hadn't regressed on purpose. He had forced it on you. Your regression was caused by his big mistake. He watched you as you babbled quietly to yourself while you played. You gave each stuffie, big or small, a big hug to apologize to them.

He felt the need to hold you. To protect you. To take care of this little baby. He dropped to a crouch next to you, and gave you a huge hug. Price's eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall, but didn't. He really didn't mean to hurt you and struggled voicing so to the point it was becoming frustrating for him.

You had stopped when Price had hugged you. You flinched slightly, but quickly hugged you back after. Even though the gut feeling kept pulling at you to urge you to keep being upset with him, you ended up ignoring it for the comfort he brought you. He rubbed your back as you pressed your face into his chest. He held you gently, but firmly.

After a moment he spoke, but his voice was extremely gentle, " Y/N, I need you to do me a favor. "

The words confused you. But you pulled away and gave a small nod, soon finding yourself chewing on your fingers in an attempt of an unconscious self comfort. You weren't really sure why you felt that you needed comfort, but you knew you did from how much your chest ached.

" Y/M, can you tell me the truth?" he asked, as he took your hands to prevent you from chewing your fingers too hard. He didn't want you more hurt than you were on his watch.

" How did I make you feel earlier? "

" 'm hurt, " you mumbled, slurring your words as you spoke. You felt wo little. You looked to Price's hands that held your. You let out a small sniffle while you got distracted again, just with playing with Price's hands.

He didn't need to ask you what you meant. You were hurt by him. Not only were you hurt, but you were regressed due to his mistake. John felt both heartbreak and shame as he knew what he had done.

" I am so sorry! I promise to never, ever hurt you like that again! " he quickly apologized to little you.

He let out a sigh of heartache and pulled you close again. He hugged and kissed your head. He wanted to protect you from his big mistake.

" I am truly, truly sorry, " he whispered weakly.

You let out a small giggle as Price hugged you and kissed your head. You wrapped your arms around your neck and cuddled into you, more out of habit than anything. You let out small babbles while you leaned against Price. As you leaned into him, John's heart ached even more from your regressed state. You had been forced into a vulnerable, childlike state due to his mistake. It was heartbreaking.

He held you close, as tears started to form in his own eyes. He couldn't believe he had hurt you like this.

" I am so so sorry, I messed up badly Y/N. "

" is oka dada, " you mumbled while you rubbed your cheek against him to comfort him. You didn't want your daddy to cry. If he did, you would.

A smile tried to form on John's face. He appreciated your small words of forgiveness. At the very least, he felt he was somewhat in the right direction. He continued to hold you tightly, and even let you lay your head on his body. You were so small, and so sweet.

He wanted to keep you safe. To protect you.

He felt like if he ever let go you would leave him.

You cuddled into Price for a little bit longer before letting go. You tried picking up your stuffies again and putting them away. Though, your little brain kept getting distracted cuddling them or playing with them. You just couldn't focus on the big task of cleaning. You were too little. Price watched in amusement, but with a hint of annoyance as you struggled to pick up the stuffies.

" Hey. Hey look at daddy. Are you having fun playing with those? Could you play them over there?" He motioned to another chair in the room. The chair went to your desk.

He knew you were regressed and acting like a child. He just wanted to divert you from the big, grown up chore of putting your stuffies away. He wanted you to stay in the headspace that would help you.

You whined softly in complaint. You liked sitting on the floor playing- but your room was a disaster. There wasn't really anywhere on the floor for you to play. You hugged the plush that was in your arms currently tighter. You wanted to keep playing too, you couldn't play while sitting in a chair.

He noticed the frustration you held. He realized your small, toddler like brain couldn't manage picking up your room at the moment. He couldn't fault you for that. After all, it wasn't like a regressed child could do that.

" You know what, let's take a break. " he chuckled softly to you. Price lifted you into his arms, and held you close to him as one would hold a real young child. As you were picked up, the plush you had been holding fell back onto the floor with the rest you hadn't put away yet.

You let out small giggles as John picked you up too. A small smile plastering on your face while you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your fingers held tightly onto his clothing while he adjusted you in his arms. Soon, you were both comfortable. You whined in complaint though, one of your hands reaching for the stuffies on the floor while the other held his clothing.

" Shhh, I know baby, " Price whispered softly as he gently patted your bum. " Let's play latter though, alright? Daddy promises, " he offered.

This trade won you over. You leaned into his chest, pressing your cheek against his chest with a small huff. Your hand now loosely held a part of John's shirt on his chest, the other still hooked around his neck.

" Let daddy carry you around for a while. " He whispered lovingly as he kissed your forehead.

He began to walk around, just trying to help calm you down and distract you. He still felt intense shame for what he had done to you. He had caused you to regress, and now you were all upset because of that. He felt awful. It didn't really help that, even though he apologized, he knew you wouldn't remember when you weren't regressed any more.

You cuddled into Price's chest as he carried you around the small room. You babbled quietly to yourself, feeling peaceful and really enjoying being held. You began to suck your thumb after a little bit. You were feeling sleepy again. Your head didn't hurt as much, but your eyes felt heavy. Unintentionally though, you did fall asleep after a little while. John did realized you had dozed off about twenty minutes after you had. He was actually surprised you had done so so soon. He couldn't help, but smile as he felt your small body fall asleep in his arms.

It was a bit awkward to do, but he had to carefully lay you down onto your bed. You let out a small whimper as you were placed down, but didn't wake. You kept sucking on your thumb to sooth yourself. Thankfully, you weren't heavy at all to him, so it wasn't an issue to get you comfy. All of this was being done while your stuffies still sat on a mix of your desk and the floor. They had not been put away like initially planned but at least they aren't in the trash anymore.

Price covered you with the blanket before kissing your forehead gently. He smiled to himself as he watched you sleep for a few minutes. Your breathing softened as you fell into a deeper sleep. He just hoped you would forgive him when you weren't little any more.

" Love you kid, " he whispered softly as to not wake you.

#agere community #age regression #agere blog #sfw agere #age regressor #sfw interaction only #sfw little community #sfw littlespace #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #john price #captain john price #captain price #oneshot

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painted-bees · 6 months

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Can you tell us about a time Magritte was surprised (in a good way) at Raf's behavior or vice versa?

aw, this is a cute ask haha

Let's see here... Raf is very frequently surprised by Magritte's behavior; she's not really like anyone one else he's gotten to know before, and the way she responds to obstacles and failure, he finds very inspiring. She's remarkably adaptable and doesn't have very high expectations of anything, ever. But--not in a cynical 'always expecting the worst' kind of way. Rather, she just seems constantly surprised and delighted when things go well, or something nice happens--and is very rarely upset to any significant capacity when things don't go as planned. A very, genuinely "it is what it is!" kind of person who'll make things work with the hand they've been delt. Magritte herself is just one big, ongoing, pleasant surprise in Raf's life haha

I guess there are two comics that already show instances where Magritte has been kinda taken off guard/surprised by Raf's playfulness

But she's also endlessly surprised by Raf's seemingly effortless gestures of support for her music. I mean, once she moves in, the guest room--her room--slowly finds itself furnished with more and more instruments and music supplies. Things that Raf purchases with no desire to use himself, but he knows Magritte will make excellent use of.

But beyond even this, she has been more than surprised on the rare occasions when Raf has gone out of his way to pull strings for her with regards to her musical career specifically. It's not something she'd ever dare to ask of him, but Raf gets really tired and fed-up on her behalf after seeing her try to seize opportunity after opportunity to get her work recognized, and receiving rejection after rejection. A lot of it is just due to the fact that she doesn't come across as very professional--unless you only listen to her music. Attempting to speak to her in a professional context, she seems incapable of composing herself properly for longer than a few minutes at a time before her own excitement unravels her. She's very giggly, and wiggly, and her vocabulary is unrefined and childish, and sometimes rather crass. She doesn't know how to talk about her own music, or how to explain her process in a way that makes sense to anyone who isn't her. She doesn't have a way to describe why she makes certain choices with her musical compositions... She comes off as very young, inexperienced, and unreliable.

And, though it frustrates him to no end, Raf can't blame anyone for reading her this way. After all, he was rather quick to do so himself when he first met her. It was only thanks to an uncharacteristic nibble of curiosity in the back of his mind that he felt there was more to Magritte and her music than first impressions led on. Sure enough, Magritte is the closest he's ever met to what he'd comfortably describe as a 'genius'. He hates the word, having been called a 'genius' for much of his life growing up and knowing that what he accomplished was only possible due to forfeiting his childhood to hours of endless hard work and practice--and the tyrannical manner in which his parents funded and 'supported' his career. But he doesn't really know what other word exists to describe Magritte's sheer aptitude for music. The way she approaches and applies certain concepts is not something that he feels can be taught, it's a unique perspective she has that he can't even fully understand. Her brain, it seems, is just wired differently. And she could change people's lives with that unique perspective of hers, the same way she has changed his...

If only she had the proper structures of support to back her up.

Raf does not like calling in favors, or being made to feel like he owes anyone anything. And so, when he goes out of his way, unrequested, to get her booked as a performing musician at one of Vancouver's many highly attended music festivals (on the condition that he also play and allow his name to be used as part of the promotional materials), Magritte is elated to tears and beyond words haha

#Hi-Note #magritte #rafael

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kipandkandicore · 10 months

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have you been reblogged by @/did-is-not-real? are you a system or asexual person who’s being harassed by a troll?

did-is-not-real is going around system and aspec spaces making fun of individuals and claiming they’re not real or invalid. this is gross, childish behavior, but we can work together to get the account suspended!

if you’ve been reblogged by the troll, here’s what you can do:

report the blog. select that you are personally being targeted or harassed.

include the link to the post where did-is-not-real reblogged from you.

tumblr will ask you to describe the post and specify why it violates tumblr rules. be sure to mention that you are being targeted because of your protected identity (either as a disabled person if you’re a disordered system, or as a queer/lgbt+ person if you’re aspec)!

once you’ve submitted the report, tumblr will ask if you’d like to block the user. go ahead and do this for your own safety!

we’d encourage anyone who has been reblogged by this awful account to go ahead and report + block. you’re welcome to just block if you’d like, but reporting is one way we can try to get the account taken down.

reports will be more effective if the people who were actually targeted file their own reports, so if you’ve been reblogged by this account, please go ahead and report it!

stay safe out there and look after yourself! together we can get this account off tumblr :)

#psa #syscourse #did osdd #dissociative identity disorder #asexual #asexuality #aspec

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senjuushi · 11 months

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Modern Gun Character Intros

Since the last set of these I did has become rather outdated (and because it's been a while, anyway), here are the new and updated character introductions for the Moderns! :D It's all twenty-six of them, so there's a LOT below the cut.

. . .

This is F. He's a flamboyant, eccentric sadomasochist, and a deviant with a princess-type personality who never quits saying horrible, horrible things. He's very feminine and over-the-top, and expresses a distinct crush on one of the other guns, who he refers to as "Onii-sama". He has MAJOR masochistic tendencies, such as licking the barrel of his gun while it's still hot— but he can show sadistic tendencies too, such as treating his lowest-ranking soldiers like dogs to be trained. However, it's highly likely that these behaviors have been learned from others. One thing of note is that, despite his extremely sexual behavior and lewd tendencies, he's not showing any more skin than his upper neck and a little bit of his wrists.

He's an attention-seeker who struggles to stand out in the shadow of his remarkable older brother, Fal, and it's implied that he's pretty desperate to be loved, whether that’s in a good way or not. He values his appearance a lot, going out of his way to look good and be presentable, such as by doing his nails and wearing perfume. He’s desperately needy in a way that he won’t fully admit since his lewd persona has become deeply ingrained as a way to keep himself safe. There are a lot of implications that he's been through some pretty awful stuff, considering where his sadism and masochism most likely came from.

. . .

This is Belga. He's a loudmouthed idiot with a violent streak and a love of maniacally shooting everything in sight. Based on his face and calculated height, his physical body is probably quite young. He's very childish and immature, is either ridiculously ignorant or stupid beyond belief, and has a horrifically foul mouth on him. He was described to me as a "laughing maniac". That said, he also has a major soft side, such as crying easily at things like unrealistically sad stories and his beloved pet fish dying. The fish themselves are most likely a tactic to control him with, in ways like letting him gain an attachment just to threaten him with their safety. He's extremely manipulable and gullible as well, and gets called "birdbrain" by 89, a gun who shares the same superior as him. Overall, he's a childish moron who can probably only barely take care of himself. As of the new game, he’s being kept as a test subject and openly mistreated, such as spending most of his time locked in a cage, wearing iron manacles and a collar, and outright being tortured. His behavior is even more erratic at this point, and for good reason.

. . .

This is Mikhael. He's... kind of a mess. Outwardly, he seems like a calm, collected, elegant type who lives only for his music and the things that strike his passion. When looked at closer, however, there are some very bad signs. First of all, he's blind. His eyes are bandaged over, which... does not imply good things. He also has what's almost definitely a brace on his leg, suggesting that he's kind of broken. Also worth noting is that in his official art (both versions), his gun is pointing at his head. Mikhael has a fixation on "beauty in destruction" which seems to imply that he's trying very hard to cover for how broken he is. He does nothing but play his piano when taken to battle (and next to nothing outside of it), carefreely leaving himself open to getting shot.

He seems like an older, broken-down gun who's acutely aware of how horrible his situation is, and passively suicidal on top of that. He won't do anything to kill himself, but if something happened, he certainly wouldn't complain. He comes across as very sad, finding joy only in his music, and taking every chance to drown himself in it. Because of his physical flaws, I doubt he’s treated very well. He's broken enough that he could be gotten rid of at any time, so he's struggling to make himself seem useful and good through his obsession with beauty in ruined things.

(His version in the new game is an alternate-universe character in my works, and will, at some point, be written as a different individual)

. . .

This is Ninety. He's the "holy shit this is fucked up" one. Ninety is literally referred to as the World Empire's dog... and he acts like it. He's likely one of the youngest of the guns in terms of summoning order and has a mindset that registers somewhere between a child and an animal. He can't speak, most likely from trauma muteness and connected to something like conversion disorder, is only barely literate, and communicates with a signboard. Do note that this boy is not wearing pants and the abuse implications there. He's sort of feral, going so far as to bite the soldiers under him when he doesn't get fed enough (they're probably starving him).

He's known to be a "panic shooter", implying a nervous personality. Also worrying is that he has another mask under his gas mask— a lot of fans theorize that he has a slit mouth. All of that said, though, Ninety is surprisingly mature and definitely a lot more intelligent than he acts. He’s most likely just acting the part of a stupid dog because it's been beaten into him until there’s no going back. There's intelligence in there, he's just not allowed to show it. Also, he's tiny. As in, my height calculations put him somewhere in the 4-foot range.

. . .

This is Ghost. His gun is an experimental, prototype weapon that was never actually put into production, and he has serious issues because of that. With an utter lack of presence, he’s stuck always going ignored by those around him. His bullets are ridiculously expensive to produce, and thus, the only person who's ever given him a chance is Ashley, to whom he's ridiculous levels of grateful and loyal. He has major abandonment issues and considers himself to be a difficult-to-deal-with reject who doesn’t deserve anyone’s time or attention. He's very passive, cynical, and pessimistic, with a very childish side— "cursing" people who upset or ignore him, and "blessing" the rare few who give him the time of day.

While he can be prickly and unfriendly, he latches onto anyone who treats him kindly with an unrivaled sense of desperation. It's implied that he might be rather sickly, and he seems to have a poor physical presence as well. Feeling like he's a failure who no one should waste their time on, he struggles a lot with believing that anyone could ever find him worth the effort to use or keep. He's always teetering on the fear of being abandoned and forgotten, yet when he’s faced with too much attention, he reflexively shuts down.

. . .

This is 89. He's a dead-inside gamer otaku whose catchphrase is "Are you serious?" He's something of the straight man (in the sense of the comedy term) of the lot of them and is definitely the most "normal" in a lot of ways. On that subject, 89 wants to be normal very, very badly... but doesn’t have a shadow of a chance of attaining that thanks to his status as nothing but a weapon. Thus, he forces himself to look down on and resent everyone who’s allowed a normal life. He’s so depressed and done with life that all he does is lock himself up in his room and play whatever mind-numbing games he’s allowed (we know he’s spent a full day on Tetris at one point) as an escape from the unending misery that is his life. He has a ridiculously obvious crush on Mikhael, and also very obviously just wants someone to love him. Belga calls him "virgin", and in return gets referred to as "birdbrain". He slacks off from missions when he can (which he definitely gets in trouble for), and even his favorite foods are cheap things that sound like they've been shoved onto him out of sheer neglect. Though it’s not immediately obvious, he’s a little bit tsundere and a total softie inside.

. . .

This is Eins. He's the powerhouse of the World Empire’s guns, and definitely the strongest person there. He's also the highest-ranking of all of them, and his battle style/gun type is a sniper. He's an ultra-serious person who takes his job equally seriously and produces exceptional results without fail. Though he acts almost normal enough to pass as a human, if you look more closely, you’ll find that he has major empathy issues and shows disturbingly little remorse for hurting people. He takes orders way too far to make sure he's gone far enough, in the sense that he'd kill a hundred people if ordered to kill one.

He has his soft side, though, down to things like gardening, impressive cooking skills when it comes to the other guns, protective tendencies, and considering many of them to be his "family". F has a crush on him, which he's totally oblivious to, Fal is his loyal right-hand man/assistant, and Ghost is ridiculously fond of him. Though he’s merciless when it comes down to it, he most likely sees his more violent actions as doing his job and not getting hurt. He definitely sees himself as nothing more than a weapon and a tool.

. . .

This is Fal. He's F's older brother, and likely some of the reason why F is Like That. Fal is an insanely capable, efficient, and skilled weapon— one who’s easily perceived as perfect in every way. His gun, the FN FAL, is known as "the right arm of the free world" and has been one of the most widely used firearms in history. Fal himself is a calm, collected sort who always seems poised and in control. He's Eins's assistant and has a lot of responsibility because of it, which he handles extremely well. He's polite, subservient, and soft-spoken, despite being very close to Eins in power and skill, as well as well-mannered, eloquent, loyal, and embodying the perfect assistant on every level. He's also extremely intelligent and expresses a particular fondness for torture. He's basically the ideal modern gun, which gives F and everyone else a LOT to live up to.

However, that responsibility leaves him stressed, worn down, and constantly fearing failure, and he has to be all but crushed under the pressure of the expectations placed on him. In the new game, he supposedly has amnesia, which has caused him to forget everything about his past as the World Empire’s gun.

. . .

This is Kirsch. He's a sadistic, seemingly spoiled-rotten brat who's almost definitely been sexually abused. He's downright desperate for attention from Ashley (and likely many others), resenting Mauser (Ashley's personal weapon) viciously for taking that attention away. Creepily enough, he refers to Ashley as "Papa", which is more like “Daddy” in the Japanese context. He seems fixated on being cute and attractive, doing everything possible to emphasize his charm and try to play up how lovable he is. That said, he behaves like a spoiled child, down to throwing vicious tantrums when he's angry.

Kirsch is also a major sadist (a behavior that’s surely learned) and loves torturing people for the sheer fun of it. He's quite accurately described as "sick in the head" by one of his superiors, but even so, he tries to paint himself as a harmless victim who can do no wrong as he kisses up to and demands attention from anyone he looks fondly upon. He's ridiculously immature, insanely clingy, and probably also has major abandonment issues. His behavior distinctly resembles a love-starved child who acts out in order to get attention. There are a few significant implications that he really has been sexually abused, including his aggressively "touchy" behavior, personal-space invading sadism, attitude towards his superiors, and revealing outfit (short shorts and garter on his leg).

. . .

This is Hokusai. He's an animated, wild-natured person with a major childish streak and the worst decision-making skills ever. The childish part extends to using the pronoun "Boku-chan", which sounds straight out of the mouth of a kindergartener. He's something of a mad scientist, working with the science sector of the World Empire, and has likely experienced the brunt of more than a few experiments himself. He has a massive, personality-defining fixation on the color blue that spirals all the way to a serious obsession, and he's so dedicated to that obsession that he keeps trying to dye his human self (and presumably his gun self) blue... which also, unfortunately, keeps killing him. He's killed himself like this a bunch of times, but fortunately, Ashley’s been able to keep bringing him back.

Matchingly, he has a massive aversion to the color red, all the way to the point where he has a violent reaction to seeing his own blood. He has a number of visible scars (rare for anime art), including distinct ones across his throat and on his wrist, implying some serious damage. His behavior also hints he might have some form of brain damage, probably of the nature that impacts things like his decision-making capabilities and sense of consequences. He's very reckless and has little regard for his own life— yet he's also gratingly cheerful, persistently upbeat, and has more energy than any individual should.

. . .

This is Love1. He's a mess. His gun is famously defective, known in real life as one of the worst and most useless firearms in history. Reflecting this, Love1’s body is equally disastrous. His gun jams constantly (giving him nosebleeds every time), his human body is implied to be equally troublesome, and in the game, his larger attacks did damage to himself as well as the opposing team. With his physical body in such rotten shape, it’s not a stretch to assume he deals with truly miserable chronic pain. Personality-wise, Love1 acts like an utter idiot. He's boisterous, loud, and beyond eccentric, with a glaring presence and seemingly not a shred of dignity to be found. He's cheerful, explosive, and trigger-happy, all while acting like he doesn't have a care in the world. However, his true personality is shockingly different.

In reality, Love1 is a massively intelligent and strategic individual who’s far smarter than most give him credit for. While Fal specializes in physical torture, Love1 is the master of psychologically shattering people beyond repair. Love1 adores his little brother, Like2, dearly, no matter how cruel or rude the other is to him, happily gushing over his "cute baby brother" at every turn. On a darker note, Love1's life hangs by an uncertain thread. He's worthless enough that he could be gotten rid of at any time, with his capability as a strategic, skilled torturer the main thing standing between his dismantlement. He could be replaced at any time, though, so he’s left to dread if or when that day might come.

. . .

This is Like2. He's an effeminate, abrasive, bratty tsundere whose number-one desire is to be spoiled and loved. Though his gun shares some of his older brother’s flaws, he’s nowhere near as faulty and useless. Like2 definitely shares the same worries about being replaced, but instead of covering them up with a smile, he fixates on making himself pretty and strong. He's a bodybuilder who focuses primarily on strength training and keeping a slim figure, and he’s surprisingly tough for how he looks. He loves fine things (the more expensive, the better) and getting as much attention and spoiling as possible, which clearly shows how desperate he is for people to like him. Because of his brother’s status as a rejected, mocked weapon, Like2 is frantic to make himself useful and avoid the same fate as an unwanted mockery.

He also values his personal security massively, can't stand any form of discomfort, and is willing to turn traitor as soon as his safety is on the line. Despite constantly berating Love1, in ways such as calling him "worthless" and "soon to be replaced", Like2 cares a lot more than he wants to admit. He frequently plays the role of Love1’s caretaker... even when he really doesn’t have to. Overall, he’s a fragile person who’s desperate to be loved and cared for, no matter what he has to do to get it.

. . .

This is Mauser. He's Ashley's personal assistant, bodyguard, and weapon, and is deeply proud of all of the above. Mauser is the first gun Ashley summoned, and despite his size and young appearance, he typically acts more like a grouchy old man or well-mannered butler than anything. At the same time that Mauser is an obedient doll to Ashley, lacking any personality or will of his own, he’s also highly aggressive when it comes to protecting his Master. When it comes to traitors, he’ll happily shoot first and ask questions later. His entire life revolves around serving Ashley. He’s blindly devoted, endlessly loyal, and considers his Master his sole priority in life.

However, it seems likely that he’s a lot more helpless than one would initially expect, considering that the chances of him knowing how to exist without someone commanding every detail of his life are slim. I write him as having a serious “baby mode” deep down, where his inexperience, dependency, and utter lack of emotional maturity come spilling out when he’s distressed— considering Ashley’s apparent fondness for small guns and being called “Papa”, I think the implications here are plenty obvious. He wouldn’t know what to do on his own in the slightest, making him highly reliant on his Master.

. . .

This is Parume. He’s one of the unreleased characters from the first game, and thus, has very little canon information. That one line on his profile picture is literally all of the canon material there is. However, there’s a fair amount that can be inferred! To start, Parume’s gun, the RK 62, is known for being an extremely durable one. As in, there are stories about it being run over by trucks and perfectly fine afterward. That leads to the idea that even though Parume looks cute, he’s a lot tougher than he seems. My interpretation of him is that he’s similar to Love1— a person who covers up his strengths and capabilities by pretending to be something different than he is. Parume acts cute, peppy, and completely harmless so that people underestimate him… while he’s actually a hardy survivor-type who’s more than capable of taking the worst that can be done to him and coming out of it mostly intact. He’s intelligent, easily bored, has a mischievous scheming side, and takes great pride in his strength.

. . .

This is Muku. He’s the other unreleased character, which again means that he has very little canon information. However, with both him and Parume, there’s a scene in the original game that hints at what they might be like. Long story short, F, Kirsch, and 89 are looking for new guns to bring to Ashley. In that scene, it’s mentioned that one of the guns had been owned by one person, used in twelve brutal battles, then had its owner die. And that would be Muku. His gun is also likely to be the youngest of all of the original Moderns. Between that and his violent, disturbing character line, I interpret Muku to be more or less an unstable child soldier (in terms of emotional maturity) stuck in a giant’s body. Fittingly, Muku is naive, oblivious, and highly immature. All he’s ever known is violence, so that’s all he’s capable of. He has some passive yet highly disturbing suicidal tendencies, seeing living as something short-term and bound to end in him being brutally killed. Violence comes naturally to him because of his history, and as a result, he doesn’t at all know how to live as a “person”.

. . .

This is Marks. He’s... special. Marks is loyal to the extreme, and so devoted to his Master that it drowns out anything and everything else that could possibly enter his head. His number one motivation and focus in life is being the best tool possible for his Master, protecting them, and earning their approval in whatever ways he can. Needy, eager to please, and embarrassingly open with his emotions, he gives us a clear picture of just how desperate a freshly summoned gunboy can be. He’s downright puppy-like, to the point of collaring himself and offering the leash to Master in one of his cards. However, he’s also shockingly aggressive. Marks aims his gun and asks questions second when he feels that anyone is threatening or disrespecting his Master, and he can be a lot more violent than you’d expect from his usual, dog-like behavior.

He’s also truly, truly stupid. He can’t pick up on even the most obvious social cues (like Master not wanting him in the bathroom with them), his one-track mind doesn’t budge for anything, and he keeps having incidents of making himself sick when he eats something he really shouldn’t. Out of all of the guns, he’s the one who I think has the least chance of passing as a human. He’s just so very weird. Also, his nickname for a while now has been “abuse bait”, for obvious reasons.

. . .

This is Like Two. He’s more or less an alternate version of Like2. They’re the same type of gun, but I consider them different individuals because of both their distinct personality differences and the fact that the second game, as a whole, might as well be an alternate universe sort of situation.

Overall, Like Two’s personality is similar to his counterpart’s. He’s a similar type of aggressive, abrasive tsundere, but considerably harsher than the original. Like Two is more practical, intense, and defensive than Like2, and far less open about his (heavily suppressed) sugar-baby tendencies. He wants to be cute and pretty too, but he also can’t tolerate looking “weak” because of it. Thus, he covers up as much of his pretty-boy interests as he can, throwing all of his efforts into training instead (as well as worrying far too much about his weight and figure), fixating on his battle capabilities and strength to prove himself. He’s arrogant and dismissive of others, rude, and unwilling to admit to positive feelings about much of anyone. Deep down, though, he’s every bit as desperate for attention as his counterpart. He’s containing his “pathetic” side as best as he can, but that doesn’t stop him from looking like a needy brat whenever his temper flares up.

. . .

This is Herme. His gun is the G3, which is one of the most prominent and useful guns in modern history, one that’s easily comparable to Fal. Matching his gun’s exceptional reputation, Herme is seemingly perfect. He comes across as proud, refined, calm, and polite— the perfect soldier in every regard. Herme takes his duties very seriously, aiming to perform to the greatest extent possible on whatever he’s assigned. His outward appearance is basically flawless, commanding respect and admiration from everyone around him. He’s described as a cold-hearted perfectionist, and it certainly shows.

However, Herme is also highkey an idiot, in multiple ways. To start, despite all of his usual pride, he turns submissive and compliant whenever Dreyse (an Antique) is present, to an almost laughable degree. He has serious issues with the idea of being a “person”, actively considering himself a “lump of iron” instead. Herme is allergic to the very idea of being human, and anything that forces him to be too conscious of his current physical state ends in something called “Iron Days”. Those amount to Herme’s brain shutting off for a while, during which time he’s only capable of lying limp and half-conscious on whatever horizontal surface he can find. ...and he’s usually naked while he does it. He’s determined to suppress every shred of emotion in him for the sake of denying all humanity. He may look dignified, but he’s really just a repressed, stupid brick of a man and kind of a dumb slut.

. . .

This is Arisaka. He has problems. Arisaka’s biggest issue likely stems from the fact that he was a gun used in the period surrounding World War 2 Japan. If you don’t get the implications there, it’s that he’s seen some downright horrifying, sickening things during his time in service, definitely including literal war crimes. That dead look in his eyes is there for a reason. For the most part, Arisaka comes across as blank, emotionless, and empty. His responses are flat at best (even you can even get him to speak), and he seems to be in a near-constant state of dissociation and disconnect from the world around him, most likely due to debilitating trauma. His behavior comes across as almost robotic, with most of his behavior based on what he assumes is appropriate rather than how he actually feels. He usually just does whatever he’s told, rarely thinking for himself or making his own decisions.

He’s very close to Murata, a gun who amounts to something like his brother or father figure, with a loving, yet rather co-dependent relationship where they’re each relying way too heavily on the other. Arisaka is also highly desensitized to violence... and seems prone to acting violently himself. One of his skill animations involves a disturbing, crazed-looking face followed by him impaling the enemy on his bayonet. Also notable is that he’s the only large gun so far who has a small body, which leads me to think that his human form is somehow stunted by the extreme stress and trauma he’s experienced throughout his existence.

. . .

This is Springfield. He’s technically an Antique in terms of when he was made and his workings, but he was modified into a Modern gun in a terrible process that left massive damage behind. Basically, he was changed from a muzzle-loading rifle to a breech-loading one, but that change is far from sustainable. Springfield is implied to be on the fast track to death. In his intro, he talks about having a “short lifespan” and many of his dialogue lines have him speaking very weakly and coughing from time to time.

He frequently mentions how useless he is and how his body won’t last long, and expresses a great amount of guilt and self-consciousness that he can’t do better for his Master. As much as he wants to be loved and worth something, he’s more or less resigned to the fact that he’ll be used up and disposed of before long. Thus, he follows orders and does the best his condition will allow, merely waiting for his fragile body to give out. Springfield has a very soft, delicate personality, is extremely polite and respectful, and tries not to complain about anything despite his awful situation. He doesn’t believe himself to be worth anyone’s time or effort, and is openly self-loathing and ashamed of himself because of it.

. . .

This is Siegblut. His gun is the G36, which was meant to be Herme’s successor. That didn’t happen. The G36 experienced a serious flaw in which its parts would break down under too much heat, and it was resigned from service because of it. As a result, Siegblut came into the world already deemed a failure. He’s outwardly a harsh, mean, aggressive tough guy who seems to want the rest of the world to fuck right off. He’s rebellious, doesn’t take orders well, and reacts violently to any perceived mockery or humiliation. He claims to see his Master as nothing but a tool, or “consumable goods”... but that’s because his country has a delightful habit of letting their Moderns burn through their Masters one after another. And as any gun would be, Sieg is deeply traumatized by that.

He’s obsessed with success and violently determined to prove himself as worth something— but the universe seems set on thwarting him at every turn. No matter what he does, he receives nothing but abuse and humiliation from everyone around him. He’s shockingly intelligent and capable, a strict perfectionist about everything he does, and has more common sense than most of the others combined. He’s also a total housewife. As in, the interests listed on his profile are cleaning, interior design, and making sweets. He’s highly receptive to praise and outright desperate to impress people, as well as a lot softer than he tries to appear. It’s all too obvious that his issues are the result of no one ever treating him with any form of respect or kindness.

. . .

This is Gras. On the outside, Gras appears to be a composed, charming gentleman with good manners and an almost smarmy demeanor. That’s pretty much the exact opposite of what he’s hiding underneath the surface. Gras was designed for a war that never happened. He was used in only small conflicts until eventually, his technology was surpassed and he was all but forgotten in history, never to see a major conflict. He’s also deeply envious of his Antique older brother, Chassepot, to the point where his entire existence is consumed by the need to be loved like he is, or if that can’t happen, to take away everything that Chassepot has. He’s extremely aggressive, emotional, and volatile, with a propensity for rabid levels of violence. His other outlet for his emotional turmoil is sex. One of his listed “interests” on his profile is “carnal pleasures”, even. He’s implied to often have one-night stands, and his behavior toward the player is excessively seductive. He frequently impersonates his brother to get what he wants (not that people are very good at telling them apart, to begin with), displaying a bizarre combination of identity issues and all-consuming jealousy.

Gras idolizes Chassepot and everything he has at the same time that he despises him with every fiber of his being. He’s also highly immature and self-destructive— and so terrified of rejection or being hated in a way outside of his control that he’d sooner ruin relationships all on his own. He desperately wants to be loved, but soft, emotional connections are much too vulnerable for his secretly fragile self to bear.

. . .

This is Murata. He’s traditional-minded, composed, and somewhat haughty, and he takes a lot of pride in his history, his abilities, and himself. As an older Japanese gun, he focuses a lot on tradition and appearances and is quite concerned with presenting himself in a dignified and honorable manner. He acts more or less like an old man, down to having a difficult time adjusting to modern technology and trends. He can be arrogant, bossy, controlling, and careless of others’ feelings... though that behavior most often is directed at Hachikyu. Arisaka is something like his younger brother or son, and Murata is extremely protective of him. The two have a close relationship, where Murata provides stability, protection, and safety to the one person he so openly adores.

However, Murata is definitely using Arisaka as something of a psychological crutch. He’s deeply traumatized too, and clinging to the idea that he can be strong enough to keep Arisaka safe is one of the only things holding him together. Murata despises vulnerability above all else. He always has to put himself in a controlling or “caretaker” role. Should he end up feeling too helpless, my theory is that he’d spiral into a similar dissociative state as Arisaka. He clings to any means of feeling capable and in control because he’d fall apart if he didn’t. Murata also has an intense, dangerous temper— to the point where he once tried to beat a military official to death for telling Arisaka to make better eye contact.

. . .

This is Hachikyu. Similar to the Like2/Like Two situation, he’s 89’s counterpart in this setting. Though it’s a lot more subtle than the other pair, Hachikyu and 89 also have their differences. Hachikyu is a lot more subdued than 89. Though he’s absolutely dead inside, 89 still had a fair amount of aggression… while Hachikyu is more of a passive, easy-to-abuse doormat. Hachikyu is also considerably more depressed and withdrawn, even asking to be removed from missions entirely instead of just dodging them when possible. Like 89, he’s perpetually exhausted and really just wants to be left alone, probably because interacting with others ends in nothing but stress and rejection for him. Also like 89, Hachikyu has some tsundere tendencies and appears to be very easy to fluster.

However, he’s also more obvious with these and acts like more of a shy, blushy tsundere than a tense, abrasive one. He seems to be very withdrawn, as well as significantly more shy and sweet than 89. Hachikyu is a deeply addicted gamer as well, and would definitely hole up in his room forever and do nothing else if he was allowed to. He’s treated like a servant by Murata, and is outright scared of him… and of Arisaka too, a little bit.

. . .

((Benetta and Carcanore are new characters whose full information hasn’t been released yet, so their descriptions here will be temporarily minimal. Expect updates as we learn more.))

Benetta initially appears to be level-headed, refined, and dignified. As part of the mafia, he holds himself to high standards and is prone to extravagant tastes as a result. He rarely speaks, but the things that do come out of his mouth are often either disturbing or at least slightly bizarre. He’s close to Carcanore in a strange, sexual tension-filled way. Though he usually seems calm, he’s capable of brutal violence, especially for the sake of revenge. Since he’s a little gun, it’s likely that he has a more clingy, immature side underneath his cool exterior, one where he craves closeness with his Master.

. . .

Caracnore’s external persona is chipper, perky, and enthusiastic. Rarely taking anything seriously, he’s carefree and constantly smiling. In contrast to Benetta’s expensive tastes, he’s quite thrifty... and self-conscious about that. He also frequently says deeply disturbing, morbid things, but his taste for violence openly extends to himself as the recipient. He and Benetta have some sort of death pact where they’ve agreed to be the ones to kill each other, and Carcanore is delighted about that. He shows a worrying lack of concern for his human body, to the point of being happily willing to be killed and resummoned for the sake of a simple mission.

#Senjuushi #千銃士 #Info #Everyone

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nitr09-productions · 6 months

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I have been Up All Night feeling Some Sort Of Way, and I guess I want to talk about it.

Fell down a YouTube rabbithole and I'm feeling a lot of sadness and compassion for the current crop of young people. TW for discussion of mental health, chronic illness, and cringe culture below the cut.

Back when I had my last really bad anaemia episode at the start of this year, I was searching around on YouTube for videos related to dealing with anaemia, and just sort of stumbled on this thing called an "anaemia subliminal." It was a video from this whole strange genre of content where people seem to be trying to deliberately make themselves unwell... through a sort of hypnosis? I don't really know how to describe it, but it's a whole rabbithole of strangeness.

People in the comments were saying things like "I'm anaemic and it sucks, and it's kinda ableist to wish you had my chronic illness." While I definitely think that's true, it's also unkind and unhelpful to the kind of people who seek this content out.

Because I think I can see the place where the content comes from, and I'm feeling just... visceral compassion for them.

Like... the state of teen mental health care is just awful. It was when I was a teen, and it certainly still is now. Any symptoms of mental illness or cries for help are read as "attention seeking behavior" or "manipulation" by adults, as if the need to be cared for is some kind of shameful thing instead of one of the most fundamental needs of our species. I don't like to talk about it much, but between the ages of 13-16, the UK CAMHS service just... obliterated my self-esteem. The memory of being made to feel like my very real pain was just childish nonsense is still very raw and familliar, and I am acutely aware of when others are being put through the same thing.

Here's where I may be making a leap in logic: I think this "illness subliminal" content comes from a place of extreme invalidation. The teens who make/consume this content are in active mental anguish, but the adults in their lives just don't want to see it. They believe that if they could only make their pain visible in a more socially acceptable way; through actual physical illness; then they would finally recieve the care they need (Though as someone who has been chronically ill for quite a long time, I know it doesn't really work out that way, and people are most often just as unsympathetic).

While this feels quite transparent to me, nobody else seems to see it that way. I've seen these videos being made fun of in the same general "fake disorder cringe" hatesphere that a lot of young people's mental health stuff gets caught up in. It just feels awfully cruel to bully someone about any of that stuff. Yeah, it does suck to see the thing that rules so much of my life turned into a romanticised victorian fainting lady disease by TikTok teens, but I'm also capable of exercising some compassion into why someone might think that way because they must be hurting so much.

I don't know. It's not something I can even do anything about. As much as saying "it gets better" rings true to someone who has made it out the other side of a teenage depression battle, I can remember that it just feels patronising and corny when you're still going through it. Wish I could just beam thoughts of solidarity and kinship through the screen and make these people feel seen.

#mental health #cringe culture

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radkindoffeminist · 2 years

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I just need to vent a little and you have seemed to read the very very few anons i have sent you in the past. The shit show of the Heard vs Depp case is frustrating to me. It has shown that for the public eye there needs to be, is required to have the most perfect female victim and if she isn't the public's idea of the perfect victim then she "a lying whore". But that's most certainly not the case for Depp. He can act and do fuck all he wants. His behavior is not and will never be.. part 1

scrutinized to the degree Heard's has. She wipes her nose and suddenly she's a bitch doing cocaine in court. He's laughing and smiling (not the typical victim behavior) and no one bats an eye or some will turn around and say he deserves to laugh and smile. They'd have crucified her way more if she had acted anything near like him. No one cares that 9 years ago was the text he made about killing her and raping her. That she spoke about being raped. That he confessed in a text to being the one to cut his own finger in that same situation. He confessed in a text to severing his own finger and no one cares. But she can't remember the specific brand of alcohol of bottle she accused him of using to rape her and it "must be a lie". That ex gf that claims otherwise? Wasn't she the one to have broken up with him out of fear of being abused by him because she saw his violent tendencies! It doesn't matter if she wins, the damage is done and now a rape victim will be sued

They ignore any evidence which goes against him, call Amber a liar, and scrutinise everything about her. I've seem so few people even acknowledge the texts he’s sent and other evidence that we have proof of. How can you ignore texts saying that he wanted to rape and kill her? How are you so blind to not even consider that that’s an awful thing to say? Even if you were to take the side of him being a victim here, you don't just casually text your friends saying you want to rape your abuser?

And then everything Heard said has been mocked. The shit in the bed? Made into a meme. Dog stepped on a bee? Meme. Her describing how Depp raped her? Trending sound on TikTok with people saying they would have enjoyed it. Using a make up palette as an example? Apparently you meant that exact one so the make up company had to tweet that it wasn't even out during their relationship and now she's a liar... Even though no one ever claimed that she used that exact one, people just love to read it that way. Everything she’s said is mocked and she is called a liar constantly. I heard someone explain why they support Depp and it was basically one audio recording of Heard screaming abuse at him. That's what it took. One fucking recording. But all the recordings and texts and other evidence we have for Depp being the abuser in the relationship? Nah, just ignore all of that shit.

She smiled in court once and people called her a psychopath and talked about how that one smile is proof of her being an abuser. She cried and it's crocodile tears. She jumped back from Depp out of fear and she’s acting. And now she acts blankly and almost without emotions and she’s a psychopath. People used every expression she showed to call her an abuser because they are so biased towards Depp that they couldn't see any other point of view. Meanwhile, his smiling and laughing and doodling during a fucking court hearing is him ‘dealing with trauma’ and ‘letting out his inner child’. I am not saying that all victims act the same way but are you fucking kidding me? What victim, while being forced through a public trial by their abuser as well as being forced in the same room as them for six weeks, is laughing and smiling and messing about during the trial? Actually, what type of person goes to court just to fuck about? That's so unbelievably unprofessional and childish.

Everyone has already decided who the victim and who the abuser is. Actually, everyone decided long before this case, which effectively serves to prove what actually happened, who the victim and abuser are which is so much worse. And so everything else about it is just confirmation bias: Heard’s actions prove that she’s an abuser; Depp’s prove that he’s a victim. And anything which suggests the opposite is a lie or just ignored. I've already seen people begin to explain why Heard might win this case even though Depp is the ‘real victim’ (basically that Heard just has to prove that Depp did abuse her on at least one occasion which is a massive oversimplification of a six week trial) because they just can't conceive of the idea that the reason Depp has lost every single case relating to their relationship is because he’s actually an abuser.

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top-tier-tickles · 2 years

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Dark Deception Tickle Au

Here's part 3. Again, it's really long, I'm so sorry...

___________________________________________

Chapter 2: Part 3

As Doug entered the corridor, another barrier blocked the end of the hall. Agatha appeared in front of it.

"Aw, you took all my friends!", She whined, "But, it's been a while since I got to play with anyone THIS long. Unfortunately, I can't play around with you, anymore. Now, I'll show you what I can REALLY do."

Giggling maniacally, Agatha teleported away once again.

Now more nervous than ever, Doug ran boosted through the barrier and into the rest of the school. This part of the school was much more worse for wear. The whole thing was dilapidated, soot and ash coated the whole place in black. Burnt, torn papers were strewn across the filthy floor. There was even things that were caught on fire!

There was noise too, a banging noise, as if someone was knocking on the dirty classroom windows. The chatters of children were also echoing through the halls. Upon investigation, Doug was met with a truly horrific display.

In the windows of the classrooms, stood many ghostly shadows, banging on the dirty glass in a desperate bid to be set free. Hundreds of them, all screaming and suffering atrocious torment.

"Like what I've done with the place?" Agatha laughed.

"How creative. It's all of her victims. This school has become her dollhouse." Bierce said, her voice being somewhat unsettled.

Doug needed to stay on his toes. If he wasn't careful, he would surely be the newest addition to her collection of ghostly playthings.

Agatha was a lot more aggressive now, angrily screaming each time Doug escaped her grasp. Doug had no idea what provoked this change in behavior, and frankly, he didn't want to find out. He just needed to focus on collecting the 98 shards he had left.

Speed Boost was really coming in handy around now, except for the fact that Doug still needed to get the hang of it. He frequently ran into walls when he found that he couldn't stop in time. Now, when he knocked into a wall with a picture of a red-eyed Agatha, he heard a small sound.

-click!-

Suddenly, a segment of the wall moved, pulling back to reveal a small room. Just like the monkeys, Doug felt secure in the room.

The walls of this room were covered in drawings and insane scrawls. Phrases like "No Forgiveness", "They trusted you", and "Home Sweet Home" were scribbled everywhere. A childish drawing of Agatha was on the biggest wall, her arms stretched out all around the room. There was an eroded, moss-covered well with another note laying on it's edge.

It was by the same writer as the last note. Even signed with the same "E" signature. The author explained how they could follow Malak with a relic they found. This note also described how when a child is wronged, their soul becomes enraged and morally corrupted, enough to where their soul creates a demonic personification of that anger. Agatha had allowed the author to look into her, showing her the torment and horrific ruination of her soul, the pain that she endured to become what she was.

"Do you feel safe in there?" Agatha's voice snapped Doug back to reality. He slowly backed away from the well, and bumped into something else. He turned around, and found a small kid's canvas, all colorful and bright. The large paper on the canvas had a drawing on it that didn't look like the others, as if it hadn't been drawn by Agatha. There were three people in the picture, two in a car, sinking into water. One seemed distressed, the other looked like she was already dead. The third person was in the upper right corner smiling. The people were labeled. The dead woman labeled "Mommy", the smiling man labeled "Daddy", and the distressed girl labeled "Me".

Doug froze, his breathing became shallow, and his arms fell limp at his sides.

'It's just like how she used to draw...' Doug thought, 'No! I have to stay focused!'

He sighed, pocketed the second note, and continued on his mission. 37 shards left.

He'd been caught multiple times, sometimes bumping into a badly timed teleportation, or being jumped on and clawed at by the child. Nevertheless, he collected the rest of the shards.

___________________________________________

END OF CHAPTER 2: PART 3

Chp. 1-1, Chp. 1-2, Chp. 2-1, Chp. 2-2, Chp. 2-3, Chp. 2-4, Chp. 3-1, Chp. 3-2, Chp. 3-3, Chp. 4-1, Chp. 4-2, Chp. 5-1, Chp. 5-2, Chp. 5-3, Chp. 6-1, Chp. 6-2, Chp. 6-3,

#Dark Deception Tickle Au #sfw tickling #dark deception tickle #dark deception #tickle fic #tickling #dark deception agatha

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nyanggk · 2 years

Note

thank you for your response, but i do not appreciate the shameless gaslighting throughout your entire reply lmfao. i completely understand not replying right away but don't use the "i'm tired" excuse to justify an immature response because you could've just waited until you were clear-headed. maybe you should get some more rest because it's obvious you did not understand what i pointed out as proven by your childish answers.

i'll start with what you mentioned about dark humor because i want to emphasize that misogyny is NOT dark humor in any circumstance. you told me to go look up the definition of misogyny but the point i was making was that y/n was treating the girls way worse and it dragged on for the entirety of the fic. the guy's antics, like jake cheating, was passed off as a joke in the beginning, but the girls were treated ruthlessly which i found pretty misogynistic. i'm not sure how you can overlook that when multiple people have said the same thing in your comments/reblogs as well.

if you want dark humor to deliver then you need to know your audience. i'm sure you didn't actually think a (mostly) female audience would appreciate misogyny passed off as "dark humor"?? plus you said in your author's note that you didn't intend for it to be misogynistic, so why are you switching up now and saying it was supposed to be dark humor?

there is a line between what's considered dark humor and what's considered flat-out offensive. making fun of weight and dragging down other girls is not dark humor, it's just plain bullying. "dark humor" is supposed to be funny and i didn't laugh one time because the whole portrayal was just uncomfortable. y/n is not the bad bitch you intended to write, she's just an asshole. i get you want to make "flawed" characters but throughout the story you are promoting a "romantic" development between y/n and jay without any sort of character development or growth.

the issue is your clear romanticization of topic behaviors in this fic. i know you didn't intend to do so because this sudden switch up from your author's note is confusing, so idk why it's so hard for you to admit that your fic is romanticizing a toxic relationship. not just that but brushing off misogyny as "badass."

i also don't appreciate how you brushed off the fatphobia towards liz by saying "idrk anything abt that nor do i care abt it" like? you have the audacity to say you don't care about the fatphobia she faces but you bias her too? and turning it on me and saying it's my mindset is just awful and wrong. if you don't care enough to look up what people say about liz then that's fine, but don't turn this on me because i called you out on how inappropriate the fatphobic comments were in your fic.

good for you and your boyfriend, but this really isn't about your actual relationship. you wrote this fic without any warnings about dubcon and misogyny and expect people to be "wiser" about the content of your fic? it's not a matter of fiction vs reality. you think that just because it's fiction it can't harm anyone, but it unconsciously teaches people things that shouldn't be taught. i mean, it's pretty obvious it affects you too since you called yourself a vengeful person much like you said y/n is. so is it safe for me to assume that y/n is based off of you? you said it in a recent comment on the fic too: "oof wait who did i describe as pale 💀 if it was yn then i was just probably thinking of myself/my own appearance so yuh" (this is verbatim by the way)

thank you for choosing to answer instead of deleting my previous ask lmfao idk if you expected me to thank you or something but addressing controversy is the bare minimum.

hey again, so firstly no I'm not expecting you to thank me nor do I care if u do bcs I legitimately don't. I'm saying that I could've legit deleted your ask and went on with my day while you rant to your own blog abt how some author refused to give light abt an issue/an ask u sent bcs you ppl are like that (if you are like that) hiding behind your anonymous asks bcs you're scared your moots might see u in a different light or that I might come at you (which I won't bcs like I said, I don't care abt you)

so to actually start off, I'm not trying to justify what I said as "Oh im tired. it's too early for this. lemme just reply to this now to get it over with." I actually meant all of that. and also, whether you admit it or not, the longer I take to answer this ask affects your view on me— whether you think of me as trying to run away from the "issue" or just me plainly ignoring you, I know you're just getting antsy for a response. which by the way, you could've sent in my dms but obv no, you can't do that because it'll expose your identity right? im not gaslighting you, I'm flatly telling you what I mean. if you call the humour or the "lol"s that I put in there gaslighting, then that's just me not taking you seriously bcs once again, I don't care.

misogyny is funny to me in the way I wrote it (even thought it wasn't just discrimination towards women) and how can u say that it isn't when people have actually laughed at the shit I wrote? and yes I have proof, it was from the people who actually bothered to read everything and send in a commentary, telling me what they think of every line / scene. and maybe yn hated the girls a lot more bcs there was a bitch tormenting her???? the hate she had for the female population at the start was just there (same as for the boys) because thats how she viewed them and she disliked them. the only reason it dragged on til the end (for the girls' part) was bcs of yujin. did yn mention any other girl she hated besides her and her little "minions" who were just mentioned once? no. she hated them but like what was written there, she mostly wouldn't care abt what yujin would say except for when liz gets angry, that's when she would cheer her on or when she went too far. now, can u name any other girl yn said she hated? no bcs there was only yujin. the part where Jay went into the art room and was basically crowded by other people, yn said she was angry or getting jealous bcs they were touching him, right?

her hate wasn't just some baseless grudge towards a (1) gender bcs why would she be jealous of guys crowding jay when he's straight (in this fic im not saying irl). yes, she was immature in feeling that bcs once again, him and yn weren't a thing and both that angered her, mixed with the denial she feels towards Jay. was there a reason for me to put the other boys there? no bcs yn already has this "rival" figure so why would I bother adding a guy.

yes I brushed it off because I simply don't care what other people think of her. "if that's what u think I don't care" is me generalising all of you (possibly also u idk) who think that's she's fat. I told u I don't care bcs I like how she looks and have no care in what other people say bcs once again, I don't care abt their opinions bcs what matters to me is my own unbiased opinion.

I'm not switching it up to dark humour bcs it alrdy was???? i said it wasn't meant to be misogynistic bcs it wasn't??? wdym "You said it wasn't misogynistic so you're switching it do dark humour" it wasn't misogynistic in the first place. it's meant to fuck with both genders. a (gay) guy have also sent me feedback abt this fic and did he call me out for calling guys manwhores??? no, bcs he probably didn't care and knew it was just for laughs and wished for me to make a mxm spin off.

I'm "unconsciously teaching people what shouldn't be taught" aren't you adults? have u not been taught from a young age what's right and what's wrong? shouldn't you alrdy know this??? if you know its wrong then why would u do it??? I'm not teaching anyone nor am I shaming anyone for doing stupid decisions in life. no matter how old u are, I get that ppl can still make mistakes but to blindly follow the mc of a smutty enhypen fanfiction posted on tumblr????? are u insane or do u just not have anyone guiding you in life.

and can I ask u how u thought yn was based off of me (both physically and personality wise) when I said that i literally have a healthy relationship with my boyfriend? didn't I tell u alrdy that I know how to differentiate fiction and reality. didn't I tell u that no dubcon or whatever that is, happens to us? (I have no idea what dubcon was before this) just bcs she's vengeful and pale doesn't mean I'd do the same thing as she did in this ff bcs like I've said multiple times, yn is a fictional character and I'm an adult who knows what's right or wrong. and who else would I base yn off of? my sister? my mother? other ppl? an oc? ofc I'd use the word pale bcs I am and vengeful bcs I'm vengeful. that's doesn't mean I'm the same as her.

and the "it's pretty obvious it affects you too" phrase, idk what u mean by that.

safe to say that I don't intend to teach any adult smth they should morally alrdy know. I'll add that dubcon thing u said to the warnings if that makes u happy aslo bcs I don't want other people to misunderstand. I had no idea what dubcon was before this so that's why it wasn't there. besides that, I have nothing else for ya. if this came off as blunt to u then thats bcs it probably is. like I said, u never stated anything good from me or the fic, hence why I'm sour. if u came here to provide constructive critiscm, make sure to not just put the bad things.

0 notes

kirascottage · 3 years

Text

muggle whereabouts

regulus black x genderneutral. reader

summary: you and regulus go to a museum together.

word count: 0.8k

cw: fluff, kissing, the reader is wearing a skirt and makeup but that’s all that’s described.

“So it’s a what?”

“A museum.”

“But, they seem useless.”

“Regulus!” You’re octave heightened in civil defense whilst flailing your hand at the bone of his clothed shoulder.

“They are not useless! They’re quite nice, actually.” You laugh, carefully tucking your nose into his neck. “Too bad you dull purebloods don't have any.”

His throat becomes parched at the direct accusation. His eager hands dangle in the air as they gesticulate as he begrudgingly articulates, passionately defending the private realm of the wizarding world and its strict magical purpose saying: “First of all, all you do is stare at paintings, and that is a bore.” While you merely bark out a laugh at his theoretical explanations.

His bicep proceeds to curl around your ample waist, the proportions of your body effortlessly resting upon his chest.

You're drawn closer to the radiating heat of his body uninterrupted by the scratchy material of his Lincoln green sweater, the slight palpitation in his accelerating heart unsheathing you closer.

“Fine,” He uplifts his shoulders in an expressive shrug, dismissively, “You should take me to see one then. Whatever those muggle things are called again.” Regulus sighs in dishonest tediousness.

The talks of exquisite arts drilled into the beige-tiled walls with the surrounding of gold encasing and diligent paint strokes had excited Regulus, rather than the dull demeanor he was perceived to have in those moments.

The scolding summer heat was nothing but a forgotten nuisance in the following days of August; naturally leaving the fulfilled summer behind, till but rather your burning curiosity peaked regarding his suspicious behavior apropos to a museum around the corner of your hometown where you had resided for the past sixty days.

The thickening air of the night only exceeded until dawn where you had first awakened. His lips were pinkish and swollen, his messy thatch of untamed curls fell over the wrinkling skin of his forehead, his lips were partially pouted as you smeared an endearing kiss on them.

A childish whine barely escaping his throat at the frantic attitude of giggles and gentle smiles emitting from you at such a premature time in the overcast day.

Admiringly, he shakes his head at your actions as the patterned lace of your sheer tights slip above your calves. As the autumn weather grows near with vermillion leaves dressing the Scottish land and the frequent gusts of wind intertwining with his tufts, following the new and blooming year for Hogwarts students and the giddy first years, your ensemble is set and adequately prepared for the cooling weather with a buttoned-onyx top, a navy-blue pleated skirt and a dark booted heel.

There’s a dull Fuschia painted on your aglow cheeks, and a matching tone blotched on the smooth cushion of your lips. Your mane had been styled to where the contours of your neck had been exposed to the frigid air, if you were in place of contracting a cold he would even offer the thick-knit material of his scarf to you.

He was as tame and recognizable as always. A tawny brown coat shouldered over him with a complimenting button-down and slacks to match.

For the remainder of the glacial morning, he had dissimulated his elation with disinterest and aloof contort twisted onto his lips that could've been identified as a sneer.

…

“It’s alright at best,” Regulus whispered deceptively.

“Shut it, Liar. You're enjoying this.” Your smirk would've been described as transparent. The trembling chin and twitching cheeks were enough for the devious look on your face to be uncovered.

“All you do is stare. This is boring.”

“So that’s why you’ve kept me here for three hours, because it’s boring.”

“No- No, I was just — waiting to see if there was anything worth looking at.”

He merely jerked his head as his eyes performed an inner rotation at your words.

“Aw, my love. S’alright to admit you're wrong.” You grasp your appendages around his slender waist, your determined chin sitting contentedly on the bone of his shoulder as you both peer at the historical painting.

“You’re embarrassing me in public!” The boy quipped back in a faux chide, the collapsing bubbles of infectious laughter spilling from his lips immediately diminish the attempted related quip.

“Sure, Reg,” You nod as your palms sit flat on his torso. “You keep telling yourself that.”

🏷 @thesettingsun @miiamour @shadesofvelma @acosmis-t @anything-forourmoony @zzzfour @yiamalfoy @sexyhotgemini @dirtyhandsinvestment @dirtypogue @jemimah-b99 @i-cant-stfu @i-love-scott-mccall @rosie-anne @sprucewoodlover @black-rose-29 @myalupinblack @o-rion-sta-r @itszero16 @90steaology @dobbysockcollection @dreamcxtcherr

#regulus black fanfiction #regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black x female reader #regulus black fluff #regulus black fic #regulus black angst #regulus black headcanons #marauders fandom #marauders fic #marauders fluff #marauders era fanfiction #marauders

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sukuna-thirst-trap · 2 years

Text

Mahito vs Reader; Someone has to lose

Summary: Your a sorcerer siding with Getou and your currently stuck playing monopoly against Mahito while the gang our out kicking ass. You hate this, you hate Mahito so you thought of the best way to make him suffer would be placing bets in a board game. Your sure he’s cheating somehow but just can’t figure it out. So why not make a bet.

Warnings: Slight swearing

Word count: 1.3k

Notes: Ok this one is just pure silly idea that came into my sleep deprived brain while I’m drinking energy drinks to get by so its really silly but I hope it cheers someone's day up.

Also this isn’t a reader x Mahito unless you want it to be. Totally up to the reader.

[p.s this has no spoilers, is safe for minors to read, also takes place around the end of season 1.]

The room was dark and dimly lit with a small light above your head. The best way to describe this room was literally like a god damn interrogation room. Your eyes focused on the table before you, hands knitted together with your head resting atop of them.

Sweat began to bead on your forehead as you grumbled in protest. God Damn it! You thought as you screwed your face up and glared daggers across the table to the laughing stock before you.

You just had to be stuck with Mahito.

“ Seriously! Choso could beat you at this rate! “ Laughing like a maniac, there was something childish about Mahito.

You had only recently been recruited by Getou, you preferred talking with Hanami who allowed you to understand her.

All that talk of plants and life on earth, it kind of got blown out the window when Jogo, Hanami and Dagon got called away. That left Mahito and yourself, stuck here dealing with his childish behavior.

How infuriating!

Glancing down at the desk you glared at the silver item that represented you in the game, a god damn boot. While Mahito happened to have the cute puppy, making you envious.

Your current position in-game was…well in jail. Apart of you wanted to slam your fists down on the table but you knew already that this would give Mahito far too much satisfaction.

“ Your such a child, the moment the round in-game is finished I’m out of jail, I am going to boot your ass” Sternly you warned Mahito, glaring back at the gray haired Curses stitched face.

“ Awe, that sounds like a lot of fun. I bet you’ll be back in jail again though. “ Chuckling, Mojito kicked back and tossed the die.

As it rolled, Mahito moved several more steps. You had a feeling he was cheating somehow, but how? The die rolled naturally, there wasn’t any counter weights in it. You grumbled again.

“ Just hurry up and finish the round! Skip a few god damn steps would ya!” Your temper was showing as you clenched your fists tightly.

“ That would be cheating! “ Mahito pouted in protest.

Another roll of the die, your frustration was brewing almost at the same level of Jogo’s.

Mentally you could just imagine all the fun Jogo and Hanami would be having. Also the fact they left with Getou and Dagon. Just what kind of fun where they having?

“ HEY! I said you can move now!” Mahito called out waving his hands in your face.

Suddenly you had an idea. Leaning back in your chair you snickered showing a toothy grin.

“ You know what would make this fun, if we place bets.” You pointed your finger at Mahito and winked.

Grabbing the die you tossed it carefully. A one…it landed on a damn one.

Mahito remained silent while you moved your piece one step out of jail. Seriously who invented this game?

“ Well its not against the rules so I guess we can. What's the bet?” Curiously, much like a child, Mahito looked at you with a raised brow.

Damn idiot was about to get his ass handed to him, you mentally thought as you leaned forward over the table and laughed.

“ The first one to get ten houses gets a six pack of beer. “ Giving a crazed look, your eyes widen with a look of insanity and far too much confidence. You couldn’t help but imagine yourself winning this little bet.

Mahito fiddled with his fingers thinkin this over before he finally spoke up, taking the die in hand and rolling it. Lucky bastard got a six!

“ Nah I don’t like beer. What if it was like the loser has to clean up after Jogo’s outbursts and the winner gets to have a free meal of their choice? ” Mohito looked like he was lost in thought.

That greedy part of you jumped the gun without even thinking this was a trap.

“ DONE! “ You rolled the die, it ended up being a four.

You felt much better with that, your gut told you would win as you made hasty moves around the board.

Your skill at Monopoly wasn’t great but you were smarter then Mahito, so you thought. Your mind was more mature while Mahito was more immature. You knew how to quickly run scams since you were a kid so obviously you knew how to save your monopoly money.

All was going well, several rounds later and you were almost ten houses in while Mahito was half way. Just one more, you thought to yourself, just one more was all you needed.

Victory was in your grasp when suddenly Mahito rolled a six and landed on one of your houses.

“ Bought! “ Placing down a handful of money into the bank, you watched as Mahito was now six houses and you now had 8

You grumbled in protest, a vein in the top of your head threatening to burst.

Glaring daggers once more across the table you watched Mahito laugh.

You roll your die, a one!

This became a repeated roll, over and over. Practically each time only moving one step while Mahito was getting further and further away.

“ Bought!” Another house gone! Mahito sat cheerfully as he looked at you.

You were ready to scream, you ended up back in jail and grumbled as you thought you would just pay it off.

Done, you moved again, two steps this time.

Mahito moved around the board, he bought another house.

“ BOUGHT!” The glee in his face was repulsive at this point.

Biting the inside of your mouth, you tried to keep calm. Wasn’t working out though.

You roll the die again, you move another four steps this time. You pay rent as you grumble but it was fine, you still had plenty of-

“ BOUGHT! “ Mahito announced, you looked at him in surprise, he just bought another house, again one of yours.

“ How the hell ! “ You stand up and glaring at him.

Poking his tongue out, Mahito looked up at you just like you’d expect from any child.

“ Were you even watching? “ Mahito teased before flipping you the finger.

Sneaky brat had managed to collect ten!

Filled with so much rage you flip the table top and grumble like a curse. Mahito however just laughed, cackling up as he clutched his stomach.

“ I bought ten! I win! I win! “ Flailing about, Mahito stood up and jumped around.

“ I want steak! I want Steak!!!” He continued to Sharad around.

Your temper got the better of you as you sigh in defeat.

“ Fine! Fine! I’ll make you steak, whatever. “ You started to clean up in defeat, fixing the table up and collecting the pieces.

“ Hey! Where's the die gone? “ You look around, you search under a nearby couch.

You couldn’t find it, you were dumb found.

While Mahito thought himself the king of Monopoly.

You look over at him and you watch as he holds the die in his hands and it quickly is absorbed.

“ YOU CHEATER!” You yell at the top of your lungs.

You caught him red handed, cheating! Mahito jumped in fright and acted innocent, but it wasn’t working.

“ Thats why the die wasn’t rolling well for me! You asshole” You grab the table and through it in his direction.

A bad choice and bad timing, Getou walked through the door, Mahito ducked and dodged the table..

Well said table went flying into Getou landing a hard hit to his head.

An hour of scolding and you weren’t sure if you should laugh your ass off at the massive welt on Getou’s forehead or not.

“ Ha! That’ll teach you for messing with Mahito” Jogo said in a snarky tone. “ You lost right? That means whatever mess I make you clean up, right? “ You could hear it in his voice. Jogo was plotting something terrible.

“ Don’t you dare!” You point at Jogo trying to be threatening. Didn’t work.

Jogo merely laughed at you, suddenly a tree palm was set on fire in Dagons domain.

“AH!!!” You jump up and quickly run to try and put it out. “ You get over here and help me Mahito! This is all your fault “ You barked orders as you turned to look at the childish curse.

However Mahito was sitting on the beach with a small table top in front of him, a napkin loosely placed around his neck, an empty plate and hungry waving a knife and fork in hand at you.

“ Next time we play a game I’m calling! Its going to be uno! “ You bitterly yell back as you hear another tree palm set on fire.

Getou only softly laughs as he places an ice pack to his head.

“ Well I’ll give y/n this. They really have a good swing. “

#mahito x reader #jjk reader insert #jjk #Mahito #jjk x reader #geto suguru #hanami #jogo #silly

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noirapocalypto · 2 years

Text

Profile - Info - Trivia

*TW: Drug Abuse, Suicide

The Basics

Name: Isiah Hale

Stagename/Alias: SVLEM

Age: 28

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Gay

Gender: Male

Birthday: January 28

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Languages spoken: English

Born in: Houston, Texas

Resides in: Northside, Night City

Lifepath: --

Occupation: Rapper, Singer, Songwriter

Appearance

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Naturally green. Uses mismatched optics: one black sclera with a white iris (with geometric occult designs) and one white with a black X.

Notable Features: Salem has faint scarification design on his face, as well as various facial piercings. His entire left arm is cybernetic, which retractable metal claws on all five fingers. His heterochromia are the most notable feature of his.

Height: 6'2" (188 cm)

Weight: 215 lbs (106 kg) - cyberware included

Tattoos: Almost every inch of Salem's skin is covered in black and white tattoos. From his organic arm to his torso, even his back and legs. He also sports a few facial tattoos as well. All of which have occult themes to them, such as ritual symbols, sigils and various other symbolic images.

Personality

Positive Traits: Creative, quiet, artistic, talented, private

Negative Traits: Pessimistic, nihilistic, self-destructive, addictive, antisocial

Description: Salem is a deeply complex and tortured individual. He denies and minimizes his trauma and insists that he has his emotions and mental health under control. This is far from the truth, and often turns to extremely unhealthy ways to cope. Salem has an addictive personality, finding comfort in drugs and anything that makes him feel good or makes him feel numb--albeit temporarily. Off stage, he's an introvert--very quiet, soft spoken and reserved. He doesn't like people meddling into his personal life or attempting to get to know him on a personal level. He's standoffish, doesn't like people getting into his bubble and finds himself easily annoyed with bratty and childish behavior. He has no problem telling someone to 'fuck off' if he's not interested in them or if they've gotten on his last nerve. He's reclusive and mostly just wants to be left alone unless he has personally invited someone to hang with him, can provide him with more drugs, or has actually taken a liking to someone. On stage, Salem pours out his anger and frustrations into his lyrics in that deep, guttural voice of his. He's open about his depression, his drug addiction and his attempted suicide/suicidal tendencies. However, he does not glorify this behavior and makes this point across by describing how awful and miserable he feels on a daily basis and how he would not wish his life on anyone. Salem is very reckless and often puts himself in situations where he can be gravely harmed or possibly killed. However, none of this matters to him and often finds cynical amusement in these scenarios. He has little to no care about his own well being, especially while he's under the influence. Beneath his extremely difficult to crack exterior, Salem is capable of being a caring person. When he decides to allow himself to feel an attachment towards someone, he begins to soften up and be much more gentle and vulnerable around them. He becomes playful, enjoying to laugh and joke. He'll even give one of his rare smiles. His love is quiet and subtle, but still there. He's willing to open up and let them inside, little by little. However, he tries very hard not to let this happen. He's deeply terrified of any emotional or mental pain that might come with allowing himself to 'feel' for anyone else.

Relationships

Family: None (absent mother, deceased father)

Affiliations: Often performs at Totentanz. While not an official member, he is friendly with Maelstrom.

Friends: --

Enemies/Rivals: TBD

Significant Other: --

Background

Born as Isiah Hale, he grew up as an only child in Houston, Texas. His was an unexpected pregnancy that resulted in his mother and father being obligated to remain in a relationship that would ultimately become strained. His father was loving, doting and caring, while his mother–who had no interest in being a mother–was rather cold. His parents fought and argued often, with his mother being more of the aggressor while his father was more passive. Salem didn’t think much of this growing up, feeling it to be normal in their household.

When Salem was around the age of 7, his mother walked out on her family, leaving Salem's father to raise him alone. Throughout his entire youth and teen years, Salem bottled up the abandonment, refusing to give it much thought after he had ‘made his peace’ with it. All things considered, his upbringing was a positive one and he grew close with his father–considering him his best friend and confidant. There was nothing Salem couldn’t talk about with his dad, ranging from teenage heartbreak to advice on his future.

Salem had always been interested in music and the creative arts, but didn’t start actively songwriting until his late teens to early twenties, when he began writing down short poems that eventually turned into lyrics. It took a while for him to find his own style, but eventually Salem developed a musical niche for himself by combining several genres of music into what he now calls his, and stuck with it. His father, while unsure what to think of this odd new sound, was nothing but supportive of his son and his endeavors.

In his early adulthood, Salem fully dedicated to making his art into a full time career. He began to perform at small, seedy dive bars--making connections where he could while trying to build his brand. His hard work and hustle began to pay off, as Salem was beginning to grow a following. His stage name, looks and heavy performance style began to gain notoriety, which only attracted more like minded fans.

However, as Salem’s musical career was rising, his personal life was struck by tragedy. His father became sick with no signs of improvement. After moving his father in with him and becoming his caretaker, Salem’s entire life became a juggle of looking after his ailing father and trying to keep his blossoming career afloat. It was around this time that his drug use began, turning to whatever he could to keep himself focused and numb to the trauma of watching his father slowly deteriorate.

Despite his failing health, his father hung on bravely–with some days showing promise and others leaving him bedridden. Salem did what he could to make his father's final days comfortable--swallowing his own grief and burying his emotions. He needed to be strong, his father needed him. Unfortunately, his dad lost his battle and passed quietly one morning. The anguish of losing his beloved father--the only person that had ever loved him unconditionally--was too much for him to handle.

At the age of 24, shortly after his father's death, Salem left his hometown and relocated to Night City, in hopes of finding solace in a new environment. However, this only seemed to further send him into a spiral as he struggled with his grief alone. He turned to much harder drugs in order to cope, refusing to allow himself to grieve. His dependence on narcotics grew as he did all he could to keep himself numb to emotional pain. It was also around this time, that Salem had tried to take his own life in a botched suicide attempt.

Eventually, his careless, drug fueled habits became second nature for him–experimenting with anything he could get his hands on, or anything that was offered to him at his shows. It’s not uncommon to walk by Salem tucked away in a dark corner of Totentanz, snorting, smoking or huffing god knows what while surrounded by an entourage of enablers. Having no healthy support system, Salem began to spiral downward into a deep depression and reckless behavior–which only worsened as he began to isolate and close himself off.

Salem is now hanging by a thread, barely keeping himself together as his self-destructive and suicidal tendencies continuously threaten to tear him apart. But being the true artist that he is, the show must go on.

Miscellaneous

Trivia:

Salem was heavily based off the rapper Ghostemane and borrows similar lyrics, musical style and aesthetics. He also borrows inspiration from other rappers such as BONES and Scarlxrd.

Apart from making music as SVLEM, he also has produced and released phonk music under the moniker MVGE. This is mostly a side project and continues to mainly produce content as SVLEM.

Salem is one of the two OC's (the other being Judah) that offer gigs to other mercenaries.

He's not opposed to introduce himself by his real name, but usually always goes by 'Salem'.

Salem is very fond of the occult and even practices in rituals, tarot reading and spell casting, which he often references in his songs.

Pinterest Boards: [SVLEM]

Spotify Playlists: [SVLEM] - [MVGE] [ info subject to be added, removed and tweaked at will, he's constantly growing and evolving ]

#Salem profile #cyberpunk 2077 #long post #to be added to my pinned post #ᴏᴄ ⋆┊ꜱᴠʟᴇᴍ

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haikyuu-appreciation-club · 3 years

Text

flowers on the floor | t. oikawa

| genre: angst

| warnings: mentions of a breakup

| word count: 0.9k

| a/n: first time writing angst so be gentle pls <//3

You felt the grass clawing its way through the stitching of the cloth below as you looked out to the skyline ahead, wind dancing through your hair while you admired the feeling of it’s cool breeze against your cheeks. It was days like this where you wish you could pause time and keep your world in this state for eternity.

You and Oikawa were currently spread out along a soft blanket, stuffed to the brim with all the delicious food he had prepared for the two of you that morning. Oikawa was always thoughtful when it came to planning dates, usually choosing to spoil you with romantic gestures as opposed to your usual choice of staying home and enduring yet another movie marathon. Today it was a picnic at your favorite field, the same one the two of you had spent all your fondest memories at. He was awful at surprises so you’d known about this outing for quite a while but there was no reason to ruin that beautiful smile that spread across his face when you told him you loved it.

Your own smile found its way to your face at the memory that was fresh in your mind, letting yourself selfishly play it over and over in your head as you sat in the comfortable silence that had spread over the two of you.

“What kind of flowers should we have at our wedding?”

Your eyes grew wide at the question as you were quickly pulled from your thoughts, head snapping in the direction of your lover.

“What?”

A loud chuckle left oikawa’s lips at the hint of shock in your voice. He turned towards you before lying down on his side and propping himself up on his elbow.

“I said, what kind of flowers should we have at our wedding?”

You shook your head, unsure if you were hearing him correctly. You and oikawa were serious about the relationship the two of you had going on but hearing him talk about marriage so casually took you by surprise.

“Wedding?”

He smirked and quirked an eyebrow at you, clearly amused at the fact that you weren’t as relaxed as he was about the topic at hand.

“Yes, wedding,”

A dramatic gasp was drawn from his lips as he flopped back onto the blanket below, the grass audibly shifting under his weight as he pouted.

“Don’t tell me you were planning on turning me down when i proposed y/n.”

Rolling your eyes at his childish behavior, you crawled towards where he was sprawled out and sat yourself next to him, close enough to feel the heat of his body bouncing off yours. You turned his head to face you before leaning down and placing a soft kiss to the top of his nose.

“Of course not tooru, i was just surprised to hear you be so confident about something like that.”

He smiled up at you before reaching out and brushing some of your stray hairs back into their place.

“Why wouldn’t i be? I love you, so it’s only natural i’d want to make you mine when the time is right.”

You bit back a giggle as your heart swelled from his words. Hearing someone you were so deeply in love with be so open about his feeling towards you made you happy in a way you couldn’t possibly begin to describe.

“I love you too, you big goof, but i don’t know what flowers i want at our wedding. Is that really important though?”

He sat up quickly, nearly causing you to bump heads in the process before he brought both of his warm hands up to squish your cheeks together.

“Of course it is, the flowers tie the whole thing together! I can't believe you’d ask such a question.”

You laughed aloud at his intense declaration before removing his hands from your cheeks and softly intertwining your fingers with his own.

“Well excuse me mr. wedding planner, what flowers do you think would tie our wedding together then?”

He played with your fingers as he fell deep in thought about your question.

“Hm,”

His gaze wandered from the creases in your hands to the field spread out in front of the two of you. After pondering for a moment, his eyes roamed back to where your quilt ended and the plush grass began. He plucked a dainty white flower from the ground and began twirling it between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Daisies are pretty, and this field is special to us so i think it would mean a lot of they were the center of our wedding.”

You smiled at him, tears pricking your eyes from the mere thought of marrying the man who sat by your side, as you gently took the flower from his grasp and placed the daisy behind his ear.

“Daisies it is then.”

You’d always thought your love with oikawa was much like the flowers scattered across the open field that day. Something so beautiful that bloomed until the soothing rays of the sunlight. A innuendo of love and happiness, something that could brighten up even the darkest of days.

However, throughout your time spent with Oikawa, you’d forgotten the unfortunate thing about flowers.

They didn’t last forever.

Overtime, they lost their lively demeanor. Once soft petals became brittle to the touch and their sweet scent no longer lingering in the air.

Sometimes you wonder what it would have been like to witness first hand the daisies that would have been scattered throughout your wedding venue as you walked down the aisle. Taking the first steps towards a happy life with the man you’d fallen in love with, but in the end you knew that was nothing more than a feeble wish.

For your love had died with the flowers long ago.

reblogs & feedback are appreciated <33

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu angst #oikawa x reader angst #oikawa angst #hq angst #hq x reader #hq #hq oikawa

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sunriseseance · 4 years

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please,,, even if you dont answer this publicly i wanna know your In Depth Thoughts on fanon klaus and the issues w him bc i also have issues w fanon klaus but i cant put it in words

This got SO LONG, so I hope you meant it when you said you wanted in depth! Holy shit I sorta lost my mind on this.

In my early days as a bear-poker in this fandom, I described fanon!Klaus as that person who gets resurrected in a horror movie and comes back different. As an audience member, I can tell he's wrong, but nobody interacting with him directly seems to know this. I've also talked a little bit about Klaus and intelligence before, which plays into any discussion about fanon!Klaus, but I'll be more specific here. Before I get started, I wanna say that fandom is a fun space and I don't think anyone is *bad* for creating/enjoying fanon!Klaus, especially not for the third reason I lay out. I just think he's awful, and has some harmful roots that I doubt the people writing him even know about on a conscious level.

Okay, let's get into this. Because I'm me and Wittgenstein's early work that he later disagreed with has changed my entire way of interacting with the world, I'm gonna define my terms. Let's talk about what fanon!Klaus is LIKE before we talk about why I REALLY DON'T LIKE HIM. Fanon!Klaus is a happy, stupid, sweet, childish, bubbly, luminous free spirit. He wears bubblegum pink skirts and he cries when Diego eats his cookies. He doesn't know what numbers are, he can't count, he can't walk and chew gum, he thinks that Africa is a country, he forgets that homophobia exists, he doesn't know that drugs are bad for him, the list goes on (These are all real examples. Can you tell what part of fanon annoys me the most?). He cries at the drop of a hat, and doesn't understand his place in the family. He'd move heaven and earth to help the people around him, and he'd never be mean to anyone but Luther (and even then just barely) He constantly needs attention, supervision, etc. He makes jokes about modern memes and listens exclusively to pop music. He's really damaged but it's only because nobody Took Care Of Him and he needs someone to Rescue Him.

Canon Klaus is mean, and quick, and sharp, and miserable, and hiding, and funny because you're laughing WITH him, and an old soul, and a goth, and chronically apathetic, and selfish, and so fucking smart, and acutely aware of just how much he matters to other people. He makes rape jokes, he figures out how to get info on the eye while high out of his mind, he speaks like 10 languages, he listens to Nina Simone, he uses people's inherent fear of the dead to buy himself time, he finds the perfect story within the dead to cause a rift, he tells Luther TO HIS FACE that he doesn't care if the world ends. Klaus is a fascinating study in queer trauma, and robbing him of these traits is a complete disservice to yourself AND the character.

I say this often about fanon!Klaus, but WHO IS THIS??? Like…. Okay, if I gave you this list and you didn't know it was about Klaus, would you think it was? I think he's literally unrecognizable. He's not any of the things I know or love about Klaus. He's nobody to me, except a nuisance wearing the same skin suit and clogging the tags. He is also, weirdly, the most popular character in the entire fandom. I wanna think about why, and I have 3 theories that I think can all be true separately or simultaneously instance to instance.

First, fanon!Klaus exists because of internalized homophobia, classism, and anti-addict rhetoric. I think that on some level people don't believe addicts, feminine queer men, or homeless people are capable of intelligence. I think people see Klaus's canonical positive traits and they sort of throw them out the window because they don't make sense with their world view. A queer addict is a helpless tragedy, and he's someone that needs rescuing by Kind Strong Dave. A queer addict can't be smart, because then he wouldn't be an addict. A queer addict can't be wily, or interesting, because then he wouldn't be an addict. Fandom sees a feminine queer mlm and knows he should be in a sparkly bubblegum pink skirt, and saying "dahling" or "wig" or whatever else all the time. They know he should be bashful and submissive and always falling into the arms of Kind Strong Dave who protects him from Evil. They also know he should really, really like Britney Spears, and not give a shit about Nina Simone.

Second, fanon!Klaus exists because people want to excuse negative behavior in their favorite characters. Klaus is selfish and mean and apathetic. He just is. These are flaws that haunt him, and define a lot of his interactions. These are, also, pretty tough flaws to excuse (which… Hey…. I have a solution for that). I think that fanon Klaus, who just doesn't GET that he's being mean, and is too stupid not to become an addict (I don't think addiction is a flaw, but I do think that addiction plays into this), and is too out of touch and childish to understand that he shouldn't just fucking leave, comes from a place of wanting Klaus to be a good person who does good things. I'm sorry, but he isn't. Not always. I think the impulse to make him constantly sweet and constantly stupid comes from wanting Klaus's actions to be fundamentally excusable. He can't help it! He's just too much of a useless twink to know that it's bad to lie! (also, side note, fanon!Ben comes from this side of fanon!Klaus. In canon, Klaus is self destructing on purpose and Ben's presence helps…. Maybe, possibly, twice. In fanon, Klaus is just stupid and he needs a babysitter and that is Ben, the motiveless, endlessly loving but Exhausted braincell holder. This is fucked up on many levels. Ben is an asshole, and we all need to get used to that idea quick).

The third and final reason is that fanon!Klaus is… More fun, in the traditional sense of the word. Fanon!Klaus seems like he comes from a very emotional romcom or sitcom or something. He's like a barbie. He's fun to play dress-up with. He's fun to make incorrect quotes about. He's fun to write about, especially when it's about his siblings herding him or coddling him. Good ol' useless, loveable Klaus. I think this is partially because Klaus is a pretty fucking heavy character. He's a traumatized homeless queer drug addict, and that's sort of hard to make jokey fandom content about. Not impossible, I don't think, but not easy. This isn't to say that angsty fandom content isn't guilty of fanon!Klaus, though. It absolutely is. Often when Klaus willingly shares his feelings, or cries in front of someone, or asks for help for something more intense than tying him to a chair, it's fanon!Klaus. Hell, any time he GETS rescued it's teetering into that territory. He's still completely devoid of all of the grit and intrigue of canon, but he's fun to write about, and fun to project onto, and fun to rescue. He's also EASIER to write. People know that Klaus is a funny character, they know they laugh when he's on screen, but it is WAY harder to write a character you're laughing with than it is to write a character you're laughing at. It's WAY easier to write a character who moves your angst plot on by asking for help, or necessitating rescuing, than it is to work out how these things would happen without initiation. I get it, and in spite of the length of this, I don't think it's the end of the world.

I guess as I close this out, I would remind everyone that Klaus is smart, and mean, and over 30 years old. He's not a babe in the woods, or a damsel in distress, or a useless silly junkie twink. I promise that the real Klaus is worth the time and effort it takes to engage with him.

#the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #Answered #Um #Fandom criticism #Rape cw

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valhahazred · 3 years

Photo

Cryptid Mythos bonus! Everything that appears on this sheet is an entity reported by real people. Why no Mythos this time? Because these encounters are so strange in appearance or behavior that they could slip right into the Sothic multiverse with little to no alteration or alternative explanation. Good luck Investigators!

All Colours Sam In 1973, in the town of Sandown, 7 year old “Fay” and an unnamed friend encountered a very strange individual as they explored the fringes of a golf course. They first became aware of something weird going on when they heard a sound like an ambulance siren in the distance. Following the sound to a footbridge over a creek, the two children were confronted by a three fingered hand wearing a blue glove that beckoned them from beneath the bridge. Awaiting them was a seven foot humanoid figure wearing strange clownish clothing, seemingly reinforced with wooden slats that protruded from his sleeves and pant-legs. The figure had a book in his hands, which he immediately fumbled and dropped in the water. He splashed around cartoonishly before recovering his book, leaping out of the creek and away from the children. He moved to a small metal shed with a high-kneed hopping gait and disappeared inside. The children went to leave, only for the mysterious entity to exit again with a microphone that appeared to be the source of the wailing that drew the children in the first place. It spoke into the microphone in a friendly, non-threatening tone. “Are you still here?” The children were curious and unafraid, so they moved towards him. He held up his book and pointed at the words in order to introduce himself. “Hello and I am all colours, Sam”. They asked if he was human and he said no and when asked if he was a ghost he replied, “well, not really but I am in an odd sort of way.” The children asked what he was then and he simply said, “You know.” During their conversation with the entity they learned that although he went by Sam, he didn’t really have a name, he claimed that there were others like him and that he was afraid of humans and that he was a pacifist, refusing to harm others even if they should attack him. He invited them into his hut, where he shared some wildberries and showed them a magic trick, where he placed a berry into his ear and seemingly teleported it to his mask’s eyehole and then to his mouth with quick jerks of his head. They continued to converse for almost an hour before the children decided to leave. Was he an alien in a make-do disguise? An animated scarecrow? A figment of childish imaginations? Or just a strange homeless man dressed like a clown? Whatever the truth, All Colours Sam, also known as the Sandown Ghost Clown, was never seen again. The Crazy Critter of Bald Mountain This weird looking creature was sighted by three people in the week following a fiery object that passed over the Bald Mountain near Newaukum Lake in Washington. When the local Sheriff began an investigation into the sighting he was visited by heavily armed and uniformed men who claimed to be from the Air Force and forced him to give up the case. Old Saybrook Blockheads Mary Starr was awoken in the early morning on December 16, 1957 by a bright light shining into her bedroom. She looked out the window to witness a 30 foot cigar shaped craft hovering over her yard, less than 10 feet from her house! Inside the apparent spaceship she witnessed a pair of small creatures with fleshy skirts and clear cubic “heads” containing a floating red bulb. They raised their right arms and as a third entity appeared in the portholes the ship brightened before shooting off into the sky. Space Brains of Palos Verdes As John Hodges and Pete Rodriguez were leaving a party at two in the morning they were not expecting to meet anything from out of this world but as the car turned on its headlights illuminated two bizarre entities! The men panicked and drove away, ending the story for Rodriguez as he made it home with no complications. However, in Hodges case he next became aware of himself two and a half hours later in the driveway of his home, sitting in the car as if in a trance. Troubled by the missing time, he eventually went for hypnosis in an attempt to recover his memories of the night. While under regression he claimed that while he got his friend home safely, when he returned to his own residence the disembodied brains were waiting for him! He asked them what they wanted and suddenly he was elsewhere, in a dark room with entities that looked like the classic Greys but very tall and with webbed six fingered hands and yellow eyes. They explained that the brains were “merely translators” used in order for these beings to interface telepathically with humans. He claimed they warned him that Earth had “too much power” and showed him a map of the planet covered in lights that indicated places where humans might destroy themselves. They showed him images of dead planets and made several inaccurate prophecies before he suddenly found himself back in his car. Unlike many other abductees with similar experiences Hodges did not try to make excuses for their bunk predictions or feel like it made him important in any way. He simply assumed the aliens were untrustworthy and were playing with him. The Casa Blanca Entities This is one of the strangest and most confusing accounts of a Close Encounter of the Fifth kind, as eight children ranging from the ages of four to fifteen were terrorized by a parade of extraterrestrial monsters one summer day in 1955. It started with an array of UFOs, sun-like, disk-shaped and semi-transparent, appearing and disappearing with musical pings. Then came the entities. First was a ghostly being bearing a shiny belt buckle that was so brilliant it could blind someone looking straight at it. It was followed by disembodied arms in riveted armor that seemed to beckon to the children, small strange men that used dual ray guns to paralyze and finally a many limbed creature. All through this strange arrival something spoke to the children telepathically, offering to take them away. The kids they spoke to often seemed to be entranced, moving to the dancing UFOs mindlessly and required physical force or even being hosed down to snap them out. One child even fell off a roof in an attempt to reach a UFO, only to be protected by a red force field. The weirdest part of all is that not only did adults not see anything, they couldn’t. Despite being present for the event a mother of one of the children was unaware of the paranormal happenings. Does this mean it was all in the children’s heads, as they were overtaken by some kind of playground hysteria? Or is there some alien force that not only wants our children but can make themselves invisible to undesirable observers. The Garson Invaders In 1954 three of these insectoid entities appeared to Canadian miner Ennio La Sarza. Their appearance was already exceptional by the usual standards of reported alien contact but in a particularly striking detail their faces appeared to glow in colours La Sarza had never seen before! The beings asked La Sarza to do something for them but he refused, not only to do it but to even speak of it. It was so awful and “outright apocalyptic” that he even considered asking the RCMP to lock him up in case the creatures he’d met had some way to enforce his cooperation. The Poole Pyramid This multi-hued metallic pyramid appeared in 1965 to seven year old Terrence Druce of Poole in Dorset when he awoke to it hovering over the foot of his bed. He shrieked in terror, waking his younger brother in time for him to also witness it as it faded into thin air. That encounter might have never been recorded if the brothers hadn’t seen it again the very next day, lurking in a parking lot. They said it seemed aware of their presence and turned to watch them but it did not follow them when they decided to flee the scene. Delta Dogs An anonymous woman was driving through a snowstorm on route 07 through Syracuse in January 1958. She came across what at first seemed to be a downed plane but as she approached her engine slowly ran itself down and the car stopped itself. As she desperately tried to restart the car the snowstorm calmed and more details became apparent. Projecting out of the large object she’d thought was a plane crash was a 50 foot illuminated pole. Two strange beings rose up along the pole, floating by it as it started to retract. When the pole finished sinking into the object the creatures disappeared and the craft took off so fast she couldn’t make out where it went. The Electric Serpent of Tacoma This is easily the most unusual sighting of a sea creature that I’ve ever heard of. Seven men camping on the shore of Black Fish Bay in 1893 encountered a sea monster that appeared to be cybernetic, if not entirely biomechanical! Disturbed by a horrible noise and blinding lights the men left their camp to find a huge, hairy walrus-like animal with steaming horns, bands of coppery metal and a revolving propeller-like tail! One of the men approached it to get a better look, only to be struck by an electric blast from its copper bands and fell to the ground as if dead. When one of his friends tried to pull him to safety, he was likewise shocked by the impossible animal. The other men fled into the woods after seeing two of their number seemingly killed and the Electric Serpent seemed to lose interest and swam out into Puget Sound. Once they were sure it was gone the remaining men returned to the beach and were elated to find their friends burned and stunned but still very much alive! So what happened? Was it just one of the sadly common newspaper hoaxes of the time? Or did a bunch of 19th century fishermen find a literal fucking pokemon? You decide! Stickmen The Stickmen are an extremely recent phenomenon, with reports starting within the last 10 years or so. They are described as being stick thin and roughly humanoid, sometimes with bubble heads, glowing eyespots or even top hats. They range in size from human-like to towering in excess of 20 feet. What is most interesting about them is their apparent two dimensionality, sometimes appearing the same no matter what angle they are viewed at and sometimes being able to turn to the side and vanish as though they were never there. They are also frequently reported as being accompanied by a feeling like static electricity and of aggression or hostility. Despite those impressions the Stickmen do not appear to be hostile, instead seeming surprised and immediately retreating from a witness.

#call of cthulhu #cthulhu mythos #cryptids #eldritch #aliens #monsters #sandown ghost clown #all colours sam #The crazy critter of bald mountain #Old Saybrook Blockheads #Space Brains of Palos Verdes #The Casa Blanca Entities #The Garson Invaders #The Poole Pyramid #Delta Dogs #The Electric Serpent of Tacoma #Stickmen #my art #cryptid mythos

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