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#tw: animal harm
artemis-potnia-theron · 7 months
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What is 'Charisteria'?
The Festival of Lady Artemis + Lord Ares
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(Photo credit: BBC)
***tw: animal harm and animal sacrifice***
One of the more popular festivals to Artemis is the Charisteria (“thanksgiving”), which took place on the sixth day of Boedromion (September).
According to Herodotus, there was already a long-standing, ancient celebration on this day for the goddess Artemis (and her brother Apollo), however, at some later time, the festival was enlarged and became associated with the Battle of Marathon.
The Greeks honoured their victory over the Persians by celebrating the goddess who brought them victory...
...Miltiades, an Athenian warrior who is often credited with devising the tactics that defeated the Persians at the Battle of Marathon, is said to have been the first to offer sacrifice to Artemis on the day of her ancient feast. Pausanias tells us that, as part of this same festival, 500 goats were sacrificed to Artemis Agrotera and Ares Enyalios.
The goats were taken into the temple on Ilissos in a ceremonial procession and sacrificed collectively. It was said that each goat was meant to represent a fallen Persian soldier, but that so many Persians had died in the battle that doing so would have culled the entire goat population.
What makes this festival especially interesting is that the sacrifices were offered at a temple of Artemis and Ares, which is a unique collaboration by these two divinities and speaks widely to their elated position in battle worship and war.
- She Who Hunts: Artemis: The Goddess Who Changed the World by Carla Ionescu
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lailoken · 10 months
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Yesterday, our dearly beloved rat, Hesper, passed away.
He was the last of our rats, as well as one of the most loving and good-hearted animals I have ever known. He slept in bed with us every night and spent every day overjoyed to be in our lives, even while declining following a stroke. When he finally reached a point where I could see he was starting to suffer, I made a petition to the Bone Mother asking her to embrace him and carry him lovingly to the Quietus. Not even two minutes afterward, he passed away in our hands as we stroked him and sang to him.
His warm cuddles, shining eyes, and unconditional love will be deeply missed and forever cherished in our hearts. It's really hard to lose another beloved companion while in the process of caring for two other terminally ill animals, but I am grateful he is at peace.
This is a mourning portrait taken of him after we anointed him with holy oils and laid him out on a bed of rose petals upon our Chthonic Altar. I feel compelled to share it, as a reminder that Death can be a beautiful and spiritual experience, even if it's a painful one.
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bothoutsiders · 11 months
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word: screech (there's a 'keep reading' hiding the beginning for protection because tw: blood / tw: fake animal harm )
"What are you doing?" Jason's body tensed the moment he saw Dick picking up baby turtles from the sand.
Dick didn't even bother looking at him as he used both hands to rip the plastron off the turtles. The sand under him stained with blood drops.
Jason didn't know what to do as Dick repeated the action with another tiny turtle that tried to, in vain, escape him.
"Dick, stop." He swallowed but didn't do anything to stop him. He felt a lump in his throat and his own body weak. He wasn't even sure why if he was used to seeing blood, but not to see Dick acting like that.
For some reason Jason felt vulnerable, powerless.
When he looked down at his own hands, he saw he was doing exactly the same. His body mirroring Dick's actions.
"Fuck," he breathed out.
The sudden screech of metal froze him in place.
He knew that at any given time, he might spontaneously explode from the tension and stress he was feeling. The back of his neck felt cold and tight, his chest heavy with his heart pounding against the cage of his ribs. It was difficult to breathe...
Any other person would have ignored the sound but he recognized it perfectly. He could guess any type of metal scratching the walls or hitting the ground -- but this one... This one was special.
He heard it again, this time the screech lasted longer. It even felt like whoever was doing it, was enjoying it.
He was petrified. It was hard to move, to turn around. All that energy, all that fear- it was going to destroy him.
A laughter echoed in the room and Jason knew it as over. He needed to get out, he needed to escape from the Joker-- this was not okay. He shouldn't be here. Why it was happening again?
A cry barely escaped his lips but they felt so heavy. He couldn't speak, cry or yell.
Jason tried it over and over again. He tried to yell at Joker, to let him know he was NOT afraid. That he wasn't the little kid he used to be, vulnerable, sad, angry, powerless. . .
But he couldn't.
Nothing came out from his mouth, only mumbles that he couldn't understand. The sound of the crowbar scratching the walls and hitting the pavement got louder. The laughter closer.
Another cry (for help) escaped his lips and then he heard it.
"Jason, Jason--"
He opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by darkness. A soft voice was still calling his name, and a warm hand rubbed his chest gently.
"Jason," the voice repeated once more. He could feel his body unable to move, frozen by fear. His own brain still in dread.
A smaller hand squeezed his, and slowly he realized where he was. Who this was.
He was in bed, waking up from a nightmare. Tim was next to him, holding his hand with one of his, and rubbing his chest with the other, trying to calm him down.
It wasn't the first time this happened.
"You're safe." Tim gave him a gentle kiss on the shoulder, then another one on the cheek.
This is how it worked for them. Physical, gentle contact whenever one of them would have a nightmare. Ground them down to reality, to the fact that now they have each other. They are not alone, vulnerable and powerless.
Not anymore.
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Sachiko Writing 1#
TW: Animal death, minor blood, not very detailed gore You may use this as a prompt/continue this, just credit me or/and reblog this!! Assistant wasn’t suppose to see it. The blood, the corpse, the open stomach… And especially not the miles wide smile lining the Villain’s blood tinted face. It was only a few drops but it assisted with creating a look of insanity as a sculpting scalpel shivers in Villain’s right hand.The hedgehog like creature lies dead on the wooden table, a look of horror on the animal confirming it was killed alive.  The stomach is cruelly open without proper equipment, proving this was not Villain’s idea going in… Like the idea possessed them. That would at least explain their face. Their eyes are nothing but dots, looking down at his piece of art one might call prey. Cold breath filled giggles escape Villain’s mouth, noises they aren’t aware they’re creating. Hell, Villain barely notices his blood stained hands or how brutally they killed a creature that could not fight back. It takes the ‘possessed’ Villain a moment to notice their very own Assistant. Their attention fully glues to the underling with an untamed smile, attempting the greet them with kindness. The scalpel stays in Villain’s hand, armed with the weapon they just used to attack. Only way Villain found out how they looked was by the sheer terror in Assistant’s eyes.The Assistant is used to Villain losing control but they never… Hurt someone since Super Villain. They might sling empty threats but Villain is not a violent person. A fucked up one, yes, but not violent. The lack of motive is also shocking, conflicting how Villain preaches every sin they commit is to help humanity “…Assistant…?” Villain croaks, mirroring their friend’s expression. Horror consumes Villain’s eyes as they look at their own hands, stumbling back. “Shit shit shit… It’s not what it looks like Assistant… I told you I’ve been getting better, shit shit…” The scalpel stays in Villain’s hands as they get further away… Almost like Villain was afraid they would attack their dearest person in their dark heart.
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valalaraptor · 1 year
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kobeni can be little bit a cool as a treat
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perhapsblues · 1 year
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WITCHES and THE OTHER SIDE  HalloweenHex 2022 - day 5
➥ Spells: Calling Upon Your Necromancer 
“ I summon the one who brought me back, hear my plea, I call you here as you called me from beyond. “
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schadenfredde · 1 year
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I always found it interesting that N'Doul, one of the most dangerous and ruthless villains in part 3, who brought down a helicopter and killed its pilots, and almost took out the entire Crusaders… went out of his way to avoid killing a dog.
Iggy was a threat. He knew where N'Doul was, and could have easily compromised his position, and N'Doul was fully aware of that. But as soon as he realised that Iggy did not want to involve himself in the fight, he left him alone.
Any other villain may have still gone for Iggy, and that’s very interesting to think about considering that Araki usually shows how evil and heartless a villain is by having them kill a dog.
Aside from Kars, N'Doul had been the only villain to ever spare a dog.
Even when he was targeting Jotaro in the air, he never once touched Iggy, even though logically, killing him would cause The Fool to drop Jotaro. It’s not like he didn’t know where Iggy was. He even seemed upset that out of everything Jotaro could have done, he decided to yeet the dog at him.
And it's really sad how that small act of mercy was his downfall.
Imagine an AU where Jotaro manages to stop N'Doul from killing himself in time and speak to him, hearing his story and how Dio was the only man to see worth in him, and how he fears being abandoned or killed by him.
Instead of trying to get information out of him, Jotaro wants to help him. He can see honour and selflessness in his opponent, and extends an olive branch, offering safety with the Foundation.
And it completely floors N'Doul! He’d envisioned Jotaro as some kind of self-righteous hero wanting to kill Dio in the name of glory and justice, and would see N'Doul as nothing more than an obstacle getting in the way of his quest. But here he was, seeing him as a person, trying to save him, and offer him sanctuary. Had he been wrong all this time?
Rather than take the safe way out, N'Doul grows intrigued with Jotaro and decides to join the Crusaders.
He gets to know all of them, bit by bit. How Jotaro is very much a softie, though he’s embarrassed to show it. How kind and accommodating and protective Joseph is, towards those he takes under his wing. How quick Polnareff jumps to his friends’ defense (and how quickly he becomes one of them). How friendly and easygoing Avdol is, despite the injuries they’d dealt each other.
(He apologises to Kakyoin, who understands him and understands his loneliness and wanting to be accepted by people who can acknowledge their worth)
Slowly surfacing from the dense fog of brainwashing Dio had enveloped him in (that he allowed Dio to envelop him in), realising he’d only been using him and never cared for him. And how he had been so desperate to believe he did, so much that he was willing to die for a man who would never utter his name again, nor remember his sacrifice.
Culminating into a showdown at the end with him facing Dio, now cherishing companionship over servitude to a tyrant.
He is no longer afraid to die at Dio’s hands.
But.
His friends are not about to let that happen.
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picavecalyx · 2 years
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i am once again blaming @kairoi <3        silva in alola be like:
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robosucka · 1 year
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Neuralink exposé.txt
They drilled two burr holes into [Animal 21′s] skull, inserted electrodes attached to implants, and closed the holes with “cranial sealant.” The Neuralink surgeon used Bioglue, a surgical adhesive, which was not approved for use in this surgery and is known to be toxic to nerve tissue. [Neuralink] has acknowledged it killed six monkeys, on the advice of UC Davis veterinary staff, because of health problems caused by experiments. It called the issue with the glue a “complication” from the use of an “FDA-approved product.” Despite this tragic outcome, 11 months later, the Neuralink surgeon [again] used Bioglue during an experimental procedure. Again, the adhesive leaked onto the animal’s brain. Neither incident was reported by UC Davis to the U.S. Department of Agriculture as required by the federal Animal Welfare Act, and the agency refused to cite the university and Neuralink for a violation even after the Physicians Committee filed a complaint in February 2022.
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While I do love canon magician/wizard Magolor, I'm really starting to gain more love towards scientist Magolor.
Like, it really makes me laugh imagining this mofo in high-school (since I hc that he's one of the few formally schooled people) teaching the other kids how to make bombs, molotov cocktails, explosives or other sort of subtances; grabbing random animals to dissect them (prolly someone's pet was involed in all of those experiments) and making stuff like franken animals.
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scorpion-flower · 2 years
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That shrew really couldn't allow any of her "beloved dogs" to outlive her...
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epoxyconfetti · 7 months
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Well, got off the phone with ASPCA Poison Control Center. Cooper ate most of a box of Trader Joe's Chocolate Hazelnut Cookies. They assessed it wasn't enough to justify a vet visit, unless he presents any further symptoms. He is now zonked out on the living room floor, so that's a good sign. Worth the $95 consulting fee.
ASPCA Animal Poison Control Center: (888) 426-4435
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weirdratblogs · 11 months
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Spoilers for guardians of the galaxy 3.
Just saying, as someone who's seen some shit because of the unforgiving nature of the internet a decade ago... uh... the shit with rocket, teefs, lyla, and floor really fucked me up?
Like, the sheer panick in floors voice has legit caused me to develop an anxiety response (specifically, a deep tissue "itch" in my skull, not dissimilar to paresthesia) that normally only crops up when there's a medical emergency in my family. And it's been a few hours.
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fleurladari · 10 months
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she sends a peon who's already in bad standing in cipher, with no knowledge of anything beyond his own assignments with the pokemon for him. a vulpix, ready to bite as soon as it would be released from it's cage.
There was a reason he wore gloves. Thick material that has the underlayer of what was likely kelvar. His own movements were quick, careful, efficient...yet somehow gentle. Moved to simply open the grab, first grabbing the snout and jaw of the vulpix, holding it tightly closed so that it couldn't bite anyone--let alone him. He adjust his grip, then moved his other hand to lift out the creature's body.
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" it's a shame. what they've done to you... "
He hummed lightly, gaze moving up at down the snarling fire type, no mind, only a closed heart and an instinct to attack. How he despised his technology even be related to the process at all, if not for the benefits made through the process being discovered--and purification being actively researched...A testing ground, and as unfortunate as it was, Orre would always be that.
He just wished it could be restricted to the people...rather than the pokemon. Even so, he didn't look angry in that moment, a smile soon creeping over his lips as he flicked a finger for one of the scientists to come over with a syringe in hand.
" don't worry though...you'll be very useful, and at the end of it all, your heart will be open again, you will be free. "
He hummed, his grip tightening to restrain any movements as his fellow scientist pierced the needle into the creature's neck. A silver-like fluid flowing into it's body, causing it to briefly convulse before passing out. Finally, his hand released the jaw of the vulpix and he moved it to simply stroke it's head, holding it close as one might a child.
" you will be just fine...beautiful, even. "
Lysandre held the creature a little longer, before setting it down on a table next to a rather strange looking device. He then glanced towards the Peon, softness fading as soon as it had came as he glared. The smile on his face just barely still visible.
" your presence is no longer needed, i'm afraid. do take care of this. "
Unfortunately, this one had seen a little too much. The shadow of the head scientist's Malamar spreading overcross the Cipher peon. It will at least be painless.
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pookiecowpoke · 1 year
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Hi!
I don’t usually request anything, but I’m super curious! Could you write something for Bonnie Macfarlane and Arthur Morgan? They are one of my favorite pairings from Red Dead. I also have a couple of others that are pretty rare; Bonnie/Algernon Wasp and Micah/Mary-Beth.
I’d be excited to see any of those :)
Flowers by the Shoreline
Pairing: Micah Bell/Mary-Beth Gaskill
Fandom: Red Dead Redemption II
Rating: Mature
Word count: Just over 2000
Tags: Warnings: Sexism, racism, animal abuse (this is micah we are talking about, but that doesn’t make it okay), gift-giving, acts of affection, insecurities
Comments: After a very long break I’m back to writing requests! All other peeps are on the way I promise! 
So, I’ve been playing Red Dead Redemption lately and I have to say I can’t stand Bonnie. I’m sorry, I know she’s supposed to be this head strong independent woman, and I support that but I can’t stand her voice anytime I’m doing a mission for her. Why is she screaming at me, why is she insulting John so much, please Bonnie calm down QAQ. And I like the idea of Micah and Mary-Beth ever since watching Micah get rejected by Mary-Beth in Chapter 3 (was it chapter 3? idek it was so long ago). I may have went a little overboard focusing on Micah’s insecurities and emotions, and may have turned it into a character study, but it’s okay XD. I hope you enjoy this! 
Micah Bell the third only ever had 2 things on his mind: money and women. Money was easy. He had always had a knack for landing a score, whether that was through violence or his cunning mind. Money turned him on almost as much as women did, but women were a much more difficult thing for Micah to conquer. 
They were a mystery that usually just frustrated him more than it was worth to touch their soft flesh and feel their warm bodies. Even whores stayed clear of him. It was humiliating. The women at camp only glared and gave fake smiles at best when he was around. 
But oh, when Arthur fuckin’ Morgan was around all the women flocked to him. What did Arthur have that he didn’t? He drank just as much booze as he did, sure Morgan was maybe a better shot then Micah, but they still did about the same amount of chores at the camp. Well… when Charles or that O’Driscoll cunt didn’t already have them done…
Yet, all the women, even Abigail who was techincally John’s, would go to him for every one of their needs or wants. Morgan was gone most days and they still gathered around him when he returned and asked after him every waking second of the day. It disgusted Micah that they blantantly held favortism. 
He would never approach Tilly, even if she had the most beautiful dark skin and wore that yellow dress that made her look like a little sunflower. He wouldn’t stoop that low. 
Karen had nice tits and wasn’t afraid to drink, but she was loud. God awful loud, like a bird choking on a fish. Plus, Micah was sure Sean would throw a fit if he ever tried to make a move on Karen. Sean’s annoying Irish whine was almost worse than Karen’s drunken squawking.
Abigail, oh she was pretty. He cursed the day John went and got her pregnant, officially ending her whoring days five years ago. She even had a cute snorting laugh, but only Morgan and Hosea seemed to get her to let it out. Her kid, whatever his name was, was a pest that would run around without a care in the world. Not to mention if Micah was messing around with her, he’d have Marston, Morgan and the Old man gunning for him. Blegh, no thank you. 
Miss Grimshaw was too old for Micah’s standards. She acted like there was a stick up her ass, and maybe there was. She used to be Dutch’s bitch all those years ago, making it a bit of a taboo to even attempt to approach her. Same went for Molly, as pretty as she was. Those two were off limits, as far as Micah could tell. 
Mrs. Adler was just about as wild as she was attractive, and she would probably cut his pecker off if he approached her. She was sobbing most the time anyway.
That just left Mary-Beth, the hopeless romantic. Micah genuinely liked Mary-Beth and her low cut dress. Sure, he didn’t really understand some of her rambling wants about some fantasy guy who oftentimes sounded a lot like Morgan, but her freckles and the way she smiled when talking about her book always made his heart thump a little faster. 
He had tried being nice to her before Blackwater. Greetings here and there, tips of his hat, that sort of bullshit. The damn freeze of Colter happened and everyone was in a piss-poor mood before they traveled down to New Hanover. Then he got imprisoned in Strawberry and was away from camp for nie on two weeks. 
But now that they were at Clemens point and things were quiet, Micah planned to make his move. He had been in the Rhodes General store buying cigarettes when he saw a leather bound jounral on the shelf. He wasn’t one for journaling, it was a waste of time to write down his own thoughts, but Mary-Beth liked writing those silly little romances. 
He approached the counter with the pack of cigarettes and the journal, laying them down in a huff. His heart was jerking uncomfortably in his chest, and his back was sweating through his shirt. The clerk tried to make small talk with him, but he just shot him a glare from under the brim of hat and went on his way. 
Baylock greeted him with a snort and a stomp of his hoof. The tempermental nag even had the balls to sidestep when Micah went to mount him after putting the journal safely in his saddle bags. 
“I will cut those damn balls off, boy, test me again.” Micah hissed through his bristly moustache. 
The cobalt steed calmed and allowed Micah to swing himself into his saddle. On the way back to Clemens Point, Micah made it a point to stab his spurs into Baylock’s flanks as punishment for his transgressions. Baylock pinned his ears and wheezed as they galloped through the thick woodland that kept Clemens Point hidden from prying eyes. 
Williamson on guard duty could hardly ask who was there before Micah flew by and cantered to the designated horse area. The O’Driscoll looked up from the detailing of a saddle when Baylock nickered and came to a sliding halt. 
“Hey, O’Driscoll, unsaddle my horse.” Micah shouted while sliding off Baylock and searching through his saddle bag for the newly bought journal. 
“M-mister I ain-”
“I don’t think I asked, O’Driscoll. Are we gonna have a problem?” The O’Driscoll shook his head, bowing to hide under his ridiculous straw hat. “Good, now be a good boy and do what I asked.”
Micah didn’t turn around to see if he followed through with his orders, his mind more set on the beautiful Gaskill sitting at the center table. Her hair was done up with half of it up and the other cascading in curled locks down her back. Clad in a maroon skirt, white low cut shirt and dark pink waistcoat, she looked radiant with the way the bright sun caught on her necklace made her breasts pop. 
The only problem was that damn Morgan was talking to her at the table. He couldn’t just go up and give her the journal without an explanation, especially with Morgan right there. He’d be made a laughing stock. With a growl, Micah made a beeline for his tent. He would wait until that night, corner Mary-Beth to give her the journal and express himself to her. Yes, that was a good plan. 
Micah sighed softly as he sat on his bedroll and looked down at the leather, flipping through the pages. They were good quality, or he thought they were. Surely, Mary-Beth would appreciate the gift. An uneasy feeling settled in his gut, something he only felt when something went wrong. He wasn’t a nervous human, but the thought of courting Mary-Beth made his stomach twist up and heart skip a beat. Maybe this was a bad idea? No, any idea he came up with was never a bad one, just needed some improvising if it went wrong. 
In the heat of the Lemoyne sun, Micah laid out on his bed roll and tipped his hat down to hide his face, hands cupped under his head. His hair felt greasy and tangled, maybe he should go to the Flat Iron and wash up a bit before approaching Mary-Beth? His shirt also felt damp and rough against his skin. 
With a snarl of frustration, Micah sat up and trampled around his tent to grab a sliver of soap and a ragged wash cloth. A clean dark grey button up lay at the bottom of his chest, he hadn’t worn it since… he didn’t know when. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed the shirt and left his tent with a flourish. The things he did for women. 
No one spared him a glance as he walked to the lakeshore, following it until he found a partly hidden cove. He stripped down and waded into the water, scrubbing at his skin with the soap wrapped in the cloth until the blonde hairs on his chest were suddy and the faint smell of cedar filled his nostrals. He spent more time on washing his hair, dunking his head under the water and latehring it with soap. 
Scratching at his moustache made him think maybe he should shave too, but the stubborn part of his mind told him he was already doing too much to impress Mary-Beth. He shook his head like a dog and wrung out the long strands before exiting the cove and using his old shirt to pat himself dry. Before leaving the cove he saw a flower nestled in a patch of bulrush. Its petals were white that bled to a dark pink. It reminded Micah of that marooon getup Mary-Beth was wearing at the domino table earlier.
He picked the flower without a second thought and hid it in the folds of his red shirt.
He returned to camp dressed in the grey shirt and his dusty white pants, hat low on his head. He knew people were looking at him now, freshly bathed and in a new shirt. It made his skin prickle unpleasantly, but snapping at that scrawny mutt that wandered into camp made him gain some control back of the situation. 
After storing the soap and his dirty shirt back in his chest, Micah flopped on his bedroll, the flower stem pinched between his fingers. He wondered briefly what kind of flower it was, but he was sure Mary-Beth wouldn’t care. His mouth felt dry and his heart did that stupid pitter patter in his ribcage. A sip or two of whiskey calmed his nerves before he gathered the journal and flower in his hands. 
The sun was just starting to bathe the sky in a mellow orange color, and most people were off doing whatever after dinner. Marston, Uncle, and Javier were sitting around the main fire, and Morgan’s horse was gone. 
Slicking back his still damp hair, Micah slinked around the tents toward the girls’ tent. He got lucky enough that Karen and Tilly weren’t anywhere nearby, but Mary-Beth was curled up on the ground scribbling away in a journal. 
Micah stopped a few feet off to the side of her tent, working his jaw and trying to figure out the right words to say. Morgan would know what to say without a problem, prolly something flirty or a greeting-
“Uhm… good evening, Mr. Bell…?” Mary-Beth’s quiet voice broke him from his thoughts and pushed him to action. 
“Good evenin’, Ms. Gaskill-” Micah awkwardly shuffled closer to the bedrolls before playing with the leather of the journal in his hands, “I uh, I came to- Shit. Here.” With a severe lack of flattery, Micah held the book out to Mary-Beth. 
Mary-Beth tilted her head and confusion flashed on her face as she slowly set down her pencil and journal. “What’s this for?”
“I uh- saw ya like to write, and I saw this at the general store.” Micah said dumbly before remembering the flower he was worrying in his calloused hands. “And uh saw this at the shore line, thought ya might like it.” 
Micah could have imagined the light blush that colored Mary-Beth’s cheeks in the evening lighting, but she took the flower, their fingers brushing. “Oh, why… I’m sorry, Mr. Bell this is all very… odd.” She twisted the flower stem in her grasp, not meeting his eyes as she chewed on her lip. 
Micah turned away, teeth gritting together as anger surged up through his body. Of course she would reject him just like every other whore-
“Thank you, though. It’s a very lovely gift, and the journal too. Mine is on it’s last few pages…” Mary-Beth took one of the curled locks of her hair and tugged on it bashfully. 
Micah blinked, the anger draining from his body like a long needed piss. “Oh, uh, you’re welcome, Ms. Gaskill. I-I’ll leave ya to your writin’ now.” As Micah swiftly walked away he heard Mary-Beth’s muffled giggle. It wasn’t born of ill-humor, but it sounded like it was a flustered one. 
He could get used to hearing that more often.
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I have a question about GotG3 if you don’t mind. How graphic are the animal abuse/torture scenes? Are they crying in pain while being experimented on? Would I see open skulls/brains/other organs? I don’t do well with torture scenes in general so I’m trying to find out if I should skip this movie or at least wait until it’s on D+ and I can mute/fast forward.
SPOILERS AHEAD
I tried to be very vague so as not to give away too much, but if you don’t want any spoilers at all, DON’T READ.
If you are sensitive to anything related to animal abuse, it’s pretty hard to watch. I kind of pride myself on not being affected by gore or violence in movies, but it was rough for me.
You never see anything entirely graphic, like an actual surgery happening. But you do hear animals being experimented on and you see the reactions of people watching animals in surgery. And you also see animals writhing and screaming in pain while they’re being experimented on. And you see animals get injured and killed and there is blood involved. More than I was expecting from Marvel. They pushed boundaries. It was difficult to watch.
I hope this helps you. It was absolutely an amazing movie and worth a watch, but I definitely want people to be prepared.
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