burn them at the stakes

You know one aspect of Tumblr I hate? No one is allowed to like villains anymore

Because if you like a character (a FICTIONAL character mind you) you automatically condone their actions.

Let’s say your favorite villain of all time is say… the Joker for instance. If you share this on Tumblr, the chances are someone is going to swoop down on you and ‘casually remind you’ that the Joker is a psychotic murderer and a manipulative abuser towards Harley Quinn and you should be ashamed if you like him.

You’re not allowed to enjoy a villain being a villain anymore… everything has to go back to politics and how if you like them, you support their actions. Steven Universe ESPECIALLY falls under this. NO ONE is allowed to like Jasper or even entertain the notion of her being redeemed without someone coming over to rain on your parade and drill it in that she’s ‘an abuser’ and ‘how dare you support literal trash, I can’t believe you’re in favor of her actions’

What blows my mind about this anti-villain mindset is that three years ago EVERY SINGLE PERSON on this site was bending over backwards and making incredible leaps and stretches to justify the actions of Loki and paint him as a misunderstood woobie. The wobbie who stole the throne twice, tried to kill his brother, invaded Earth and caused a lot of deaths, and so on

I don’t understand how he is different from any other villain (Actually I do, he’s played by Tom Hiddleston and for awhile everyone had a crush on him)

It’s not just Loki either, I also remember back in 2014 there was a WHOLE FANDOM dedicated to Randall from Monsters Inc. 

Randall, the kidnapper who tried to strap a child into a torture device to suck the scream out of her… EVERYONE was painting him as misunderstood and bullied because Monsters University was coming out. When the movie came out, we learn that he was ALWAYS sort of petty and his grudge against Sullivan started over a minor accident

Oh let’s not forget Pitch from Rise of the Guardians! Everyone was all over him too!

At some point after specifically 2014 we went from loving villains to HATING them. A good villain makes you hate them granted, I’ll give you that. But now we HATE the people who LIKE them!

We went from wanting to redeem every villain to immediately wanting to burn every single villain at the stake and anyone who likes them. What caused the change? What flipped? It’s a mystery that baffles me.. and it’s something I really hate

Why should we hate the people who like villains? It’s not fair at all. Let people like what they like, there are bigger problems in the world than someone liking someone or something you don’t like

anonymous asked:

Oikawa putting a remote controlled vibrator in his s/o for the entire practice as punishment for not letting him hear her moans last night?

I actually liked writing this one! Lol! I feel like after this it was be a constant battle between the two of them!


He could be called spiteful, sure, he would accept the quality. And some may call what he decided to do as unwarranted, but he would argue otherwise, the always had a reason behind each and every action. Especially when Oikawa didn’t get what he wanted. Because nothing kept him from what he wanted.

Not even her. Despite the fact that she essentially owned everything about him and that he would do anything for her, he still wasn’t about to be denied his desires so easily. Which is how they ended up in the position they were now, with a small report shoved into his pocket and her fidgeting on the sidelines of the court with a small vibrator hidden away inside her. The rules were simple: don’t make a sound. The only catch: every fifteen minutes, the level would rise.

Perhaps it was a petty punishment. But if she insisted on refusing her voice while they were in private then she better be insistent on keeping the whole team from hearing them. His chocolate eyes slid over to her where she shifted again, her hands gripping tightly together as red spread over her cheeks. He saw the way her jaw was clenched, her eyes focused hard on the floor of the gym and began to feel concerned that maybe he had taken it too far this time. But then her orbs were meeting his, a determination to spite him right back burning within them and he smiled, hand reaching into his pocket to raise the stakes just one more notch.

Taking a moment to appreciate the way her body tensed at the sudden intensity, imagining her squirming the way she was beneath his own. He pictures those fisted hands gripping and clawing at his bare back as he pressed hard against her. He could almost feel those trembling legs thrown up over his shoulders, smooth against his skin as he groaned from–

“Fuck, Shittykawa, wait until you’re home!” Iwaizumi’s bellowing voice pulled him out of his thoughts and turning to his best friend who had almost as red of a face as hers, “just because your girlfriend is here doesn’t mean you get just–” his voice cut off, embarrassed in trying to explain, deciding to desperately try and gesture without being too obscene. Seeing Oikawa’s confusion, he groaned, “Don’t moan on the court!”

He stared for a moment, trying to fully comprehend what he was told as Iwaizumi stomped away muttering something about serving the ball. Turning, he witnessed the smug smile spread across her face, which was slightly distorted due to her heavy breathing, and that was all he needed to put the pieces together. Grinning in return, he turned back to his practice, casually turning the device up a couple more notches. She might have won this round, but he’d make up for it later.

Dirty Laundry Discourse

Over the past few days I have seen an overwhelming amount of discourse complaining about the fic Dirty Laundry by @gibslythe​ that is a Voltron college AU fic featuring Lance x Keith. I’m going to address these concerns, and the frankly ridiculous nature tumblr has of attacking things that get popular.

So first of all, Dirty Laundry has gotten an unprecedented amount of attention in a tiny timeframe. It’s gotten so popular it has it’s own tag. And of course, as what happens when things get popular, they go under a lot of scrutiny.

Claim 1: Dirty Laundry is written by a white girl. She has no place writing this story.

This is completely and utterly false. In Dirty Laundry, Lance and his family are Mexican-American. Now, there would be a problem here if the story was about the struggle of being a Mexican-American. Or even if the main theme of the story was the Mexican-American story. But it’s not. Dirty Laundry is a romantic comedy about two boys falling in love. One of those boys just happens to be Mexican-American. The Mexican story should be written by Mexicans. But anybody can write a story with Mexican characters. It’s about diversity. If we could each only write exactly what we are, all the stories in the world would be… boring. And diversity is a good thing. Getting in a mindset to write something other than what you are is healthy.

Especially since it is now so popular, and everybody is aware that the author is white, as well as having disclaimers in the fic, you are aware you are consuming media created by a white person. If you don’t like that, create some yourself! Encourage your latinx friends to write some too! PoC authors are just as important as PoC representation, so get on that folks.

Claim 2: Lance is Cuban, and the author wrote him as Mexican. This is erasure and racist. 

So there is one line in Voltron that hints at Lance being Cuban. It’s in Episode 4 when he says “There’s only one planet in the world that has Varadero beach, the pizza shack, and my moms hugs..“  So he said that he loves Varadero beach, which is in Cuba, but loving a place doesn’t mean you’re from there. Granted, the reference to his mom does seem to suggest Lance is Cuban. But nothing is confirmed. Headcannoning Lance as Mexican-American is not bad, or inherently racist, especially since nothing has been confirmed. Cuban Lance is great. Mexican-American Lance is great. 

Claim 3: There are harmful “ugly” tropes in Dirty Laundry.

This one is hard for me to find, so I’ll address all the accusations I’ve seen made.

  • The large family: the author of Dirty Laundry is not the one who came up with this. It’s from the original Voltron content that Lance has a big family, the author of Dirty Laundry just put names and personalities to all the faces.
  •   Also, how is having a big family a bad thing? I could see it might be troubling, especially if they were seen as poor or there were negative gendered stereotypes that can come with having a large family, but the author’s rendition of the Sanchez family have a big house, land, animals, and own a successful business. They’re not poor by any means… Also, in the fic it’s Christmas, so all the family is coming home to visit, they don’t all live there. My family does this too. Not a problem.
  • Autistic child: This one I just can’t believe. In the latest chapter (Chapter 9), there is an introduction of an autistic child, Alexei. Now Alexei is a young kid. And autism is a spectrum. There is no set way for an autistic person to “act.” People are complaining because Alexei told everyone she had sensory issues, while very carefully pronouncing it, as well as announcing to the family she is autistic at the dinner table. Like, guys… she’s 6. And kids with special needs, whatever they may be (like allergies) are often taught to memorize a phrase to help them express this. For a child to do that is not unheard of. Also, how dare you people claim she’s not “autistic enough.” Stop with this. Also, the author has plenty of experience with autism, and is capable of portraying it correctly. There is currently a total of one (1) chapter with Alexei. We barely know anything about her. She was barely introduced. Let’s all take a minute to breathe before we jump on the “ableism” witch hunt.
  • Lance referring to himself as “President Taquito” in the group chat: guys, this is Lance we’re talking about. The kid is a dork. He’d probably giggle at that. Also, taquitos aren’t a commonly appropriated Mexican food by white people. Like if he was President Nachos, or taco, quesadilla or fajita then I could see a problem. But flautas and taquitos aren’t really as well known, at least here in Texas. 
  • Homophobic/biphobic men: Lance’s dad, Jaime, is having problems accepting his son’s sexuality and does say some harmful things. But he does seem to genuinely love his son. Maybe people are complaining about the men of this fic not being accepting of Lance’s sexuality? But his older brother Danny is a grown, married, man with a child. And he’s completely fine with Lance’s bisexuality, and when confronted with the fact that his own son “wants a boyfriend” and claims Keith is his boyfriend, Danny’s only worry is that Keith is much older than Mateo and that he hopes it’s not serious. Also, Benji is completely fine with Lance’s sexuality. So… I don’t see the problem here?
  • La chancla: So la chancla has become a common latinx joke that is rooted in a common shared experience in the latinx community. Because in the recent past, corporal punishment was widely accepted in the world at large and in the latinx community. Is this somehow making light of abuse? No. No one in Dirty Laundry is abused, nor is it made light of. UPDATE: Important note: Mexican characters and Mexican people can joke about Mexican culture. White people, fans and characters included, should not.

So in conclusion, I can’t find anything that screams racism or terrible. All I see are original, thought out, and well-planned characters.

Claim 4: Dirty Laundry is terrible and racist and I’m going to go yell at the author.

Okay, how fucked up are you? First and foremost, the author is a minor. If you are comfortable with being a terrible person and harassing a child, then congratulations, you are a horrible person and stay away from me. Secondly, let’s pretend this was a problematic fanfic, even though I can’t find a reason it would be. The instant somebody with goodhearted intentions makes a mistake, y’all all want to burn them at the stake. Seriously. Save your efforts for actual racism, and for terrible unapologetic people. The author has been made aware of the few people who are complaining’s concerns, and has made every effort to address them. 

Claim 5: Latinx people don’t like Dirty Laundry.

Here is a list of people and posts of latinx people who are fans of Dirty Laundry.

If you’re not latinx, then you are not qualified to claim it as misrepresentative or appropriative. You have no right to speak over latinx people, and I am aware that includes me. The majority of people who have problems with Dirty Laundry are white or other minorities. 

Conclusion: Stop harassing a minor for a piece of fanfiction. If you don’t like Dirty Laundry you have two options: don’t read it, or make a polite–or at the very least intelligent–post about what you find so wrong with it with proof and references.

UPDATE: to express your support for @gibslythe, post in the tag #dirtylaundress. Especially if you’re latinx and/or autistic, we want to hear from you. It’s time to spread some love now. Let’s undo a bit of the damage.

UPDATE 2: The perpetrator of the mob mentality has since apologized for inciting the mass antagonizing of the author, and so have their public supporters.  They have rescinded their comments about Dirty Laundry being racist. 

As a fandom, we decide where to go from here. The latinx and Mexican communities have been doing a great job of verbalizing their support, please continue to do so. I am now asking you, not to turn around and harass these people. They did a terrible thing when they started this, yes. But they apologized. Don’t turn into the bad guy by doing the exact same thing. 

Roses

Summary: Credence decides to show the reader his appreciation for her kindness towards him, although it doesn’t go as he originally planned.

Word Count: 2,533

Warning: Possible spoilers, mentions of blood

Y/N had let out a sigh of disappointment when she reached the corner of 42nd street only to find it empty. Well, empty to her standard considering that she had expected a large mass of people to be gathered on the street corner.

She had been looking forward to catching Credence after the New Salem Philanthropic Society rally that had been scheduled to be held there, but it seemed that she had been too late due to her grocery shopping taking a lot longer than she had originally anticipated. Sure, she knew that the people who would have had the misfortune to walk past Mary Lou Barebone’s incessant rambling would be rather relieved to know that it had concluded. Y/N was too, in a way, but she had been hoping to get the chance to talk to the woman’s eldest son since she hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, even if that meant that Y/N would have no choice but to listen to Mrs. Barebone distastefully drone on about her own kind just to see him.

It would have seemed as if the rally had never taken place to begin with, the exception being a few disposed flyers floating around on the pavement that were being picked up by the wind. Y/N adjusted her grocery bags onto her right arm before bending down to pick up one of the pieces of parchment with her left hand, curious to what Mary Lou had her adoptive children write on them this time.

“LEAVE WITCHES IN OUR WAKE. BURN THEM AT THE STAKE.”

Y/N couldn’t help but to roll her eyes in exasperation at the slogan. She would always take a flyer from Credence when he was tasked with handing them out to passers-by, mostly as a ploy to talk to him so as not to raise his mother’s suspicion, but also to make fun of every new slogan that Mrs. Barebone had slapped on there. It was a ritual they shared, Credence never dared to say anything against them while out on the street but Y/N almost always managed to pull a small smile from him at her antics.

She flipped the piece of paper over to the back, wondering if there would be anything else on the other side only to find it blank save for the Barebone’s residential address, which had always been a constant. Curious to what the time was, Y/N pulled out her watch from her coat pocket and furrowed her brows. It was past noon. She let out a disappointed sigh; it didn’t seem that she would be seeing Credence today.

Deciding that it was best that she had better get going, Y/N set off in the direction of her home and tossed the flyer into the first bin that she had spotted along the way. For a while now, Y/N had been worried because of Credence’s sudden disappearance and no matter how much she tried to reason with herself by recalling the one time she didn’t see him for over a month, in which he had been fine, she still could not shake the feeling of anxiousness.

What paranoid her the most was that the last time she seen him had been when he showed up on her doorstep in the middle of the night due to a horrible beating that had been delivered by Mary Lou’s hand. What if he had been punished because he had snuck out that night? Did his mother notice that his wounds had been completely healed and swore that witchcraft was the perpetrator?

Y/N shook her head at how she kept escalating a situation that she knew nothing about, if Mrs. Barebone had sworn that it was witchcraft then word would have definitely travelled by now. She was most likely just worried because she had grown quite accustomed to seeing the timid young man a lot more often than she usually did as he had been making his visits quite frequent before they had ceased all together. Maybe he was just busy scouting for new locations for the rallies, she tried in vain. There had been more of a turnout with each one due to the suspicious activity in New York recently, maybe he was just preoccupied, she hoped.

After 20 or so minutes of lamenting Credence’s wellbeing, along with what she was going to cook for dinner that night, Y/N arrived home. However, she instantly perked up at the sight of Credence standing at her door. Speak of the devil, she mused.

“Credence, what are you doing here?” Y/N asked cheerily as she approached the bottom of the stairs that lead to her front porch, all traces of her previously melancholy state having dissipated at the sight of the man.

The sudden greeting had caused Credence to jump in surprise before he turned around to look down at her from the top of the stairs, “Sorry! I should have given you a little warning beforehand.” She apologised, laughing a little and craning her head back to look up at him from her position.

“It’s fine.” He replied with a small shake of his head. He kept his right arm behind his back, as if hiding something. Credence hadn’t expected Y/N to be home so soon, he knew that today was the day that she did her grocery shopping and from first-hand experience he knew that she liked to take her time, her excuse being that she didn’t want to forget anything and have to make a second trip later on in the week.

He shifted nervously, his right hand holding the bouquet of roses flush against his back in order to shield them from her sight. He originally planned to leave the flowers on her doorstep and walk away without leaving a note as he wasn’t ready to make such a bold move. He was happy to see her but it was just his luck that she finished her shopping early on today of all days.

“Well, this is a surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you today after I missed the rally,” She began with a smile being none the wiser to Credence’s internal dilemma, but her expression soon turned into one of confusion, “How did you sneak away from your mother?” She questioned, genuinely interested. His mother kept a tight leash on her children, as always, but she was particularly insufferable on the days of her rallies.

Credence had almost let out a sigh of relief at the question as he thought Y/N had caught him out, although it didn’t completely quell his anxiety, “Ma got caught up with Mr. and Mrs. Evergreen, their son works for the local newspaper. She took them back home in hopes that she’ll have an article written about the Society.” He answered softly, his gaze eventually lowering until he was staring at the ground, “She didn’t want me around, only my sisters.”

“It’s a blessing in disguise, really.” Y/N offered cheekily, hoping to lift Credence’s spirits a little, and made her way up the stairs, “I haven’t seen you in so long, I was getting worried that…”

Her sentence trailed off and she felt panic begin to settle in when her eyes had caught sight of Credence’s left palm that was held idly at his side, it looked scratched and in some places the skin appeared to be broken and slightly bloody. Had his mother beaten him again? She thought, feeling her heart sink at the possibility.

“Credence…” She began softly, in an attempt to conceal her worry and approach the subject lightly so as not to make him uncomfortable. “Did something happen earlier today?”

Credence caught her gaze and quickly retracted his hand, although the action had disturbed the skin and caused him to hiss at the sharp pain. “N-No, nothing happened. Not like that.” He recovered meekly, a slight wince noticeable on his features. “I…” He trailed off and began retreating into himself, his nerves beginning to get the better of him.

“I… uh, wanted to–“ He began but faltered, a barely noticeable tinge of red beginning to colour the pale skin of his face. Looking for a distraction, Credence glanced down at his hand to survey the damage; while in his haste of picking the flowers, he had managed to snag himself a few times on the thorns of the stems. He seemed to have forgotten the state that his hand was in, his mind being focused solely on Y/N and not ruining the gift he had for her. His hand hurt but the feeling was nothing in comparison to the pain he was usually accustomed to in his hands.

Y/N watched Credence closely, her eyebrows drawn together in concern. She now noticed his other hand that was held behind his back, was he hiding something from her? Was that hand in worse condition?

“It’s okay, Credence. Tell me what you were going to say.” Y/N coerced in a soft tone, “It’s alright; you have nothing to worry about. You’re safe with me.”

Credence nodded to her words but still found himself unable to speak, and in his moment of panic he pulled his right hand out from behind his back and held out a bunch of a dozen red roses. He looked down at his shoes, finding himself unable to make eye contact with her in fear of what her reaction might be.

Y/N stood in shock at the sight in front of her, staring at the flowers in his outstretched hand, this situation being the furthest thing from what she had been expecting. Y/N felt her heart flutter at the gesture; he must have remembered their conversation about flowers that they had months back and how she mentioned that she liked roses, no matter how cliché they may be. Don’t get her wrong, she was still worried about the condition of his hand, but she couldn’t help the large grin that made its way onto her face. Now she was the one who was at a loss for words.

“I just wanted to thank you for being so nice to me,” Credence mumbled quietly, sounding dejected and obviously taking her silence the wrong way. He brought his arm in to hold the flowers against his chest and moved to walk past her, but she quickly stopped him by reaching out and grabbing hold of his arm.

“Credence, wait.” Y/N piped up and dropped her bags onto the ground, internally cursing herself for being so ignorant and not accepting them from him sooner. She ducked her head in a playful attempt to catch his attention in hopes that he’d make eye contact with her. Although, when that didn’t work she then slowly brought her hand up to trace up his jawline before fully cupping the side of his face in her hand, the action had caused him to flinch slightly but he eventually allowed himself to close his eyes and relax into her gentle touch.

“Credence, I’m sorry for not accepting the roses sooner. They’re beautiful; you just surprised me, is all.” She murmured and brought her other hand up to caress the opposite side of his face, which he eagerly leaned into, before moving in and placing a soft kiss on his cheek in order to show her gratitude.

His brown eyes snapped open at the new contact to look at her in shock at what she had just done. The affectionate gesture was completely foreign to him and he felt his face grow warm in embarrassment. “No one has ever given me flowers before. Thank you, Credence, I love them.”

Credence found himself only capable of nodding at Y/N’s kind words which made her smile up at him, and it only grew wider when she noticed the blush on his cheeks. She then moved one of her hands from his face to tentatively grasp his injured hand and raise it up so she could better survey the damage. Credence looked down and watched her as she examined his wounded hand with watchful eyes, thoroughly enjoying the attention she was giving him as she fussed over his hand.

“How did you manage this?” Y/N questioned as she caressed his knuckles tenderly, already having a good idea once she inspected his hand.

“I… I was worried that I’d get caught picking the flowers, so I rushed an-and pricked myself on the thorns.” He mumbled feeling a little embarrassed at his confession.

“Well, we can’t leave it in a state like this. I’ll have to fix you up.” Y/N announced while supressing a smile, finding Credence’s embarrassment endearing. “So, with or without magic?” She asked playfully despite knowing full well what his answer would be.

“With.” Credence answered immediately, eyes snapping to make contact with her own. Y/N hadn’t expected him to answer her so quickly or as loudly as he did, for that matter, which caused her to flinch back in surprise.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rude.” Credence apologised, instantly regretting being so abrupt with her, but he was left completely baffled when a wide grin broke out on her face and then even more so at her laughter that followed.

“No Credence, it’s absolutely fine! You weren’t rude at all. You just… surprised me, is all.” She giggled and brought a hand up to cover her mouth, happy at his little ‘outburst’ and taking it as a positive sign that he was beginning to feel more comfortable with her.

“Now come on. Let’s get inside.” Y/N announced as she took the roses from him and walked over to the door, taking out her key and unlocking it before turning around to face at him. “Have you had lunch yet?”

Credence shook his head, which didn’t come as a surprise; it was no secret that his mother didn’t feed him properly. Y/N, on the other hand, loved cooking for Credence and would do so every day if she could. “Well, I’ll fix you up something once we get your hand back to normal.”

Y/N opened the door and motioned for Credence to go inside while she moved to pick up her bags that she had previously dropped onto the porch, but before she was able to Credence had intercepted her and was already holding them in his uninjured hand.

“Credence!” Y/N admonished jokingly with a huff, making it very obvious so as not to confuse him, “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not getting you to carry my bags.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Credence replied earnestly and lowered his head out of bashfulness.

“Fine, I’ll let you this once. Now come on, get inside and make yourself comfortable while I put these in a vase and get my wand.” Y/N smiled, shaking her head in wonder at him before turning and walking inside.

Credence watched Y/N’s retreating figure from the doorway, the beginnings of a smile making its way onto his face. Today had gone a lot better than expected.

Rumors - Part 7

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6    

It was morning when Rebekah came home, Klaus and I were waiting for her, when she came Klaus stood in front of her and asked; Where were you the whole night?

    - You don’t need to know; “She said”.

    - Yes I do, have you been with Damon? “He asked her”.

    - What? How did you? Then she looked at me and said; Oh why did you told him?

    - I’m sorry but I needed to tell him, who knows what can happen; “I said”.

    - You are so reckless Rebekah, they could discover what were you two looking for, did you think about that? “Klaus said”.

    - They can’t discover, I would never tell Damon, no matter how drunk I’m; “She answered”.

Rebekah got upstairs to her room, couple of minutes after I came after her but she was in the bathroom taking a bath.

    - Bekah, are you there? “I asked standing in front of the bathroom doors”.

    - Yes I’m; “She answered quickly”.

    - Sorry for telling Klaus where you went; “I said”.

Then she walked out of the bathroom to dress up.

    - I’m not angry at you, how did you know I was there? “She asked me”.

    - Well I know you talked with Damon, so my guesses were right; “I said”.

    - Your guesses are always right; “She said smiling”.

    - Hahah not always. Is he that good so you can’t resist him? “I asked smiling at her”.

    - Well if you want to find out, just call him; “She said”.

    - Haha are you crazy? I’m not interested in him; “I said rolling my eyes”.

Rebekah was laying on bed and took the book so she can read. She asked me something but I didn’t hear her I was lost in thoughts.

    - Hey, I’m talking to you; “She said looking at me”.

    - Um, what? “I said and came back to reality”.

    - I asked you who is the lucky guy you’re interested in; She said smiling and I didn’t answered so she said; Spit it out.

    - You brother, like you don’t know; “I said quickly”.

    - I have three brother, you need to be more specific; “She said like she don’t know who he is”.

    - Oh Bekah you know who he is; “I said”.

    - But I want you to tell me; “She said”.

    - And I want you to tell me; “I said”.

    - You’re so complicated, let’s tell in the same time? “She asked me”.

    - Okay; “I said”.

    - Kol; “We said in the same time and I felt my cheeks were blushing”.

    - See I told you you know; “I said sitting next to her”.

    - Do you want me to tell him? “She asked smiling”.

    - No, no don’t tell him anything, maybe he doesn’t feel the same way; “I told her”.

    - I’m sure he does. I know my brother, he never looked at the girl like he looks at you; “She said looking at me and smiling”.

    - But still don’t tell him, I’m gonna let things go the way it’s supposed to be; “I said”.

    - Well if you change your mind, I’m here to tell him; “She said smiling”.

After a while someone was knocking at our door and I opened them:

    - Sage, is it? Finn is not here; “I told to her and wanted to close the door”.

    - I’m not here for Finn, I know where white oak tree is; “She told me before I closed the door”.

    - How did you know that’s what we’re looking for? “Rebekah asked her behind me”.

    - I got into your mind, while you were sleeping, sorry; “Sage told her”.

    -This is a disaster I told you Rebekah they will find out; “Klaus said coming from the living room”.

    - Why would you help us? “Rebekah asked Sage”.

    - As much as I hate you and Klaus, I love Finn and I don’t want him get killed; She said and added; So if you want to find the tree before Damon those better come with me.

Rebekah and I followed Sage to her car and came to the Wickery bridge.

    - So this is it; “I said looking at the wood”.

    - Yes, we need to get rid of it; “Sage told me”.

    - Let’s burn it for the second time; “Rebekah said and lit a match”.

Before Damon came there wood was already burning. He got out of the car pissed.

    - Your grand plans always seems to get ruined, don’t they? Sorry to disappoint you, again; “Rebekah told him and we walked away”.

NEXT DAY: While Klaus and Rebekah were looking for Finn to bring him home as they promised Sage. I was at home with her and Bonnie who should do the spell to unlink them. Sage and I were making sure she practice the spell and didn’t send a message to her friends for help.

    - Will you stop that, please; “I said to Sage while she was walked around the room”.

    - When are they gonna come? “She asked me”.

    - I don’t know, soon; “I told her”.

After 1 hour Klaus and Rebekah were back with Finn. Klaus throw Finn into the foyer and I told Sage; They’re here. Sage was out of my sight the second I said that.

    - Gather up your witch. Let’s get his blood and get on with it; “I heard Rebekah saying”.

    - You can’t force me to do that; “Finn said”.

    - Oh, I most likely could, but why force when I can persuade? “Klaus said and points his hand towards the stairs”.

Sage walks down the stairs and Finn looks at her. Then Finn gets up and rushes over to her so he can hug her.

    - What do you know, true love prevails; “Rebekah said”.

    - It does occasionally have its uses. Better than torturing him; “Klaus said and walked upstairs to room where Bonnie and I were”.

    - Tick, tock. I should hear chanting by now; “I heard Klaus saying while entering the room”.

    - I’m still studying the unlinking spell. It’s not that easy especially under duress; “Bonnie said and looked at me”.

    - Then Klaus looked at me smiling and I said; I was just making sure that she doesn’t send text to her friends.

    - This is the spell I just don’t know if I’m strong enough; “Bonnie said”.

    - Honestly, I think someone isn’t trying very hard. Very well; “Klaus said and pulled his phone and calls Kol”.

    - Kol, how’s the weather up there in Mile high city? And how’s our friend? May I see him; “Klaus walks over to Bonnie to show her Jeremy playing with his dog”.

    - So Bonnie how about that spell? “Klaus said to her, while giving me his phone so I can talk with Kol”.

I get outside the room to talk with him, through video chat.

    - Well now when I look at you I know it was a mistake I leave; “He said smiling”.

    - Haha, you can always come back; “I said to him with a smile”.

    - But I can’t now darling, I have some business to do here for Klaus as you heard; “He said to me”.

    - I hope it will be over soon; “I said to him”.

I was speaking with a Kol for like 15 minutes.

After I stopped talking with Kol I heard that Bonnie started doing spell. Finally; I thought. Couple a minutes later the spell was complete.

Little did we know that Matt, Stefan and Elena succeeded in killing one of the originals Finn. Sage called us and told us that Finn is dead, we could not believe it, how is that possible when we burned all white oak tree, but we were wrong.

Couple a hours later it was night already and we make a plan how to find white oak stakes.

    - Rebekah and I will be distraction and you’ll sneak into the Salvatore’s house to find stakes, I’m sure they keep it there; “Klaus said”.

Plan was working nice, I found 3 stakes and burn them, but Damon caught me while I was looking for other ones.

    - What do we have here? “He said standing behind me”.

I turn around and try to escape but he grabbed me for my neck and push me into the wall.

    - No, no, no you’re not going anywhere until you tell me what are you looking here; “He said to me, pretending that he doesn’t know why am I here”.

    - Like you don’t know, I already burned three stakes; “I said to him smiling”.

    - You are crazy for trying to help Mikaelson family, you will just end up dead like Finn; “He said to me squeezing my neck more”.

Before I could do something he broke my neck. I wake up somewhere and I have my hands tied up with vervain, it was burning me like crazy. I called for a help or to see if someone is there but no one showed up.

Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  

I’ll post part 8 maybe tomorrow, but I would like to know if you guys like this part and tell me if you want the next part, I would really appreciate that. :) <3

anonymous asked:

Witchtrials!au where Tobirama is the witch and Madara is the priest who's been sent to figure out who the witch is and burn them at the stake and he's figured it out but Tobirama is Hot and Smooth and also Kind and good with kids?? Witches aren't supposed to be any of these things (especially the last two) Madara ends up putting off telling the mayor (or king or whatever) who the witch is because he has a Crush (and also this is a UNIQUE CASE sir this witch is ADEPT at disguising themselves)

xD

Oh Madara. Your life is So Hard. 

3

You can rip this raretp from my cold dead hands.

Fun | A Blaise/Luna Drabble for @ff-sunset-oasis

Blaise finishing combing out his daughter’s hair, neatly parted it down the middle, and began the daily task of tying it back into neat braids.  His wife didn’t always notice things like messy hair, or whether the girl had shoes on, or whether she’d wandered off with a theoretically deadly snake wrapped around her little wrist.  Luna, Merlin love her, preferred to err on the side of letting the child develop her own path, which would have been fine if that path didn’t seem to always involve bare feet, serpents, and messy hair.

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Serving Gods (Before you start)

In this topic I would like to detail the preview to worship of the gods, but before I begin here are some words of caution in contacting them.

There is one major rule - if you don’t want it with every fiber of your being, don’t ask for it. I learned that one early and hard.
Another catch - if you can get it yourself and you’re not trying, don’t expect the gods to give it to you. The gods help those who help themselves. On this note, even if it is seeminly impossible, try your hardest before asking. The gods appreciate effort.

Now that that’s out of the way, know that the gods are out there. They’re many faceted. They’re powerful. They’re both foreign and familiar. Our ancestors worshipped them by many names, and in some cases they are our ancestors. They’re not to be disrepected or thought of as weak. Even the “weakest” god or giant is stronger than you’d ever imagine. Basically, don’t give them a reason to dislike you.

It’s been hundreds of years since people went out of their way to honor them. It bothered some of them a little, but not enough for them to do much about it until now.

Why? Perhaps it was that until recently almost everyone they contacted was burned at the stake or rejected them outright? Or maybe the wall between the worlds is thinning? Or maybe they got lonely? It could even be that they simply don’t need us as much as we need them.

Whatever the case may be, we see their hands in the world again. We listened to their call and answered them. We seek them out and they seek us out.

So, how do you gain favor with them then? How do you treat a god? Know this first - the magickal world functions on a system of reciprocity.

Think Yuletide. You get a gift at a party and you want your gift to that person to be equally good. You give a gift and expect a nice one in return. If you recieve but don’t give, it makes you feel terrible. If you give but don’t recieve you are just plain upset. Are you likely to keep giving to someone who takes only and gives nothing? Probably not. Are you going to keep giving meaningful gifts to people who only give you worthless gifts? Basically your gifts should in an ideal world match up. They should be even and balanced.

In a nutshell - your gifts, offerings, should be equal to or greater than the blessings bestowed unto you by the gods or for whatever you are asking of them. And sometimes throw in extra offerings for good measure because they are gods after all.

But not everything has the same value. In the old days you sacrificed livestock if you could. Or you sacrificed from your harvest. When you sacrificed these things you were sacrificing what you worked on, you were in a sense sacrificing hard work, time, and effort. Effort means more to the gods than money.

So to the gods, a man with much offering little? That’s no sacrifice. A man with next to nothing makes the same offering, it is much more of a sacrifice for him. It’s about intent mostly. You’ve heard “it’s the thought that counts”? Well, it is. If an offering is meaningful to you, that’s what matters. If an offering is difficult for you, even more so.

Now many people assume they can simply offer once and then they expect something immediately. No. I can’t say this enough - No. It doesn’t work like that. You have to form a relationship with a god or goddess for them to really want to help you. That means honoring them for some time, offering much and expecting nothing in return. And if you form a real relationship you’ll notice subtle shifts in your life. Swings of abnormally good luck or your unspoken dreams being fulfilled. That’s the hand of the gods in your life, correcting wrongs you would have faced without them. Through a heartfelt bond, you can then begin to ask when you truly need it.

Notice I did say truly need it. That is essential. Do not pester the gods. Do not go to them for things you can easily do. Do not go to them for everything. Go to them in dire need. Go to them when you’re trying hard already. Be humble but not too humble. Do not act with hubris though either.

Think of them as a king or queen. You treat them with reverence and deference. You do not need to boast to them, they know your deeds if you’ve built that relationship.

Now that that’s out of the way, on to more of the details of offering and worship.

“ Aside from being inferior to them, the animals of safe haven detest humans because on the outside of safe haven, it was the exact opposite. The people even burned a few animal people at the stake and put them in the stocks. Safe haven was created to keep out the hunters AND the humans, and those who made it to safe haven tell stories of the horrors of humans and those stories were passed down spreading hatred of humans among the residents of safe haven.”

-Submitted by Anonymous

anonymous asked:

I offer unspoken words, bitten lips, the feeling of cowardice that accompanies a difficult but necessary silence. Dearest Caretaker, how does one keep going when surrounded by those who would cheerfully burn them at the stake for showing their true self?

KEEP QUIET PLAY THE PART AND LET THEM BURN THEMSELVES

Can we just take a moment to go back and appreciate Joan of Arc some more? Like this 19-year-old illiterate farm girl marches up to the motherfucking king of France, gets made into a general, and kicks British ass.

She led an army to victory against people much more qualified and experienced than she was, and she beat them hard.

And then she could only be burned at the stake for crossdressing because the 19-year-old illiterate farm girl OUTBIBLED THE PRIESTS AT HER TRIAL.

She’s like a real-life fucking Mary Sue in the greatest possible way. La Pucelle best girl.

How I feel about other friends/signs (Gemini)
  • Aries: funniest bitches on the planet. But when I don't agree with them on something, we end up having a stare down until one of us blinks. Sometimes I wish you could shut up though, I wanna talk too.
  • Taurus: You guys like to outsmart me and many tears come out of my eyes... But you're funny. So I let it slide.
  • Gemini: I don't know. Sometimes I like you... Sometimes I fucking hate your guts... Because you remind me of me, and how annoying I am...
  • Cancer: much sensitive. Let's hit the club to loosen you up. :'D
  • Leo: sTOP TREATING ME LIKE I'M A BABY. I GOT THIS... *later* ...Can you help me?
  • Virgo: I like your perfectionist life... I kinda wanna go to your room and out like a hurricane.
  • Libra: I could hang out with you all day and not have a single dull moment. You are my partner in crime.
  • Scorpio: you're funny, sometimes. You were kinda one of those friends who I can pour out all of my emotions and you wouldn't show judgement. I like you, you're nice, but annoying.
  • Sagittarius: you push all the buttons and sometimes I just wanna murder you.
  • Aquarius: are you a mermaid? I wanna swim with you and see your tail...
  • Pisces: you... Are one sensitive little cutie.
  • I missed Capricorn.
  • Uhh...
  • Capri sun and corn? Hand it over please
(Re)cycle - Eisuke Ichinomiya

Title: (Re)cycle or How Many Times Do I Have to See You Until You Get Tired of Me

Summary: Somehow, the universe always found a way to bring them together, only to separate them again. So, Eisuke does what he does best—defy the damn universe. Reincarnation AU.

Genre: ANGST, Romance, and Historical if you squint

Pairing: MC/Eisuke

a/n:  This idea has actually been floating in my head for a while. That, or maybe I’m a sucker for AU’s like these lmaoo. I think I had way too much fun bullying Eisuke here ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) . He’s a fun character to write, that’s for sure. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!


I.

               The first time he saw her, he remembers being in an open, barren field.

               He was starving; the famine that hit the land was no short of a disaster. He could barely recall when rain last hit the now-dry soil of his homeland. Young boys like him would always be sent to go out and look for any sign of life, or die trying.

               In his mind, he was already dead at the rate he was going.

               The last of his crumbly bread was long gone, and he was already collapsed on the ground, waiting for whatever god to take him away from this wretch of a world. In his next life, he vowed not to be as powerless as he was.

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The Discourse

It’s me, a bonafied Non-Binary Asexual, here to ruin all your days with Inclusionist Acecourse

Copied from what I said to one of my groups in Discord bc I’m a lazy fuck

My argument towards it is if you’re gonna allow the non-het aces into queer spaces, they’re gonna want to talk about being ace on top of being queer

And talking about being ace/creating ace resources is gonna draw in the het aces

And you can’t just excise them like a tumor

They may not be queer in the traditional sense but if you put all the resources in one place where else are they supposed to go

Similar problem with ace spaces

Queer aces are gonna want to talk about being queer, and they’re gonna navigate back to queer spaces and bring their asexuality with them

Burn me at the stake boys, I have An Opinion™

anonymous asked:

Personally I don't see you as an aphobe I agree that aro/ace aren't lgbt because they aren't treated the same and need different resources They belong in the same general group but no one's going around saying "Burn them at the stake!!!"

love you anon 💕