Snowing at sea
Why do I never think about the possibility of snow on the ocean??? Now I see why, because itâs too ethereal
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@hadesbones
Snowing at sea
Why do I never think about the possibility of snow on the ocean??? Now I see why, because itâs too ethereal

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First season / Series finale
âBut if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.â
not even risking that shit
scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button.Â
She ainât no games in real life so I take her serious all the time
Anyone with a name that starts with a âZâ, ends with an âiâ, and isnât some kind of Italian pasta, IS SERIOUS
Iâm not climbing no mountain with a pig on my back, đ đ˝đ đžđ đż Negative.
Nope. I know better, have your reblog Madame Zeroni.
who the fuck is Madame Zeroni
Look at these stupid children who donât know who Madame Zeroni is
âđžđ
Man lissen if you donât know you better ask somebody AFTER you hit the reblog button
Idk who she is but I have an exam today so Iâll reblog her
Donât fuck with Madame Zeroni.

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dearly departed // marianas trench
On w*ndigoag:
W*ndigoag/w*ndigo are sacred Algonquian spirits that have spread to other Anishinaabe cultures. They arenât worshiped or whatever, they are feared.
Theyâre the physical embodiments of evil, the result of a person falling into the trap of greed and cruelty, usually in the form of cannibalism. Our fear not only stems from the spirits and the danger they pose to others, but also their implications and the constant reminder that anyone can become a monster if they allow themselves to.
They are not bipedal deer and I have no idea where that concept came from. Most traditional depictions show them as humanoid giants made of ice, usually with the body of the person they came from encased inside.
In some stories, theyâre killed by people, usually via fire. In others, they can only be killed by luring them to a body of water and getting the attention of a water spirit to fight it.
Thereâs very, very few stories where the person can be saved. The transformation into a w*ndigo is not a reversible one, and the only real way to save someone from that existence is to free them with death.
We censor their names because, traditionally, weâre taught not to say them out loud in case we get the attention of one or summon one. This is especially important during winter or at night.
They are not benign spirits. They are not kind. They are not rational. They are evil and cruel, and their only desires center around killing and eating. Theyâre as rational and logical as a wild raccoon in the late stages of rabies.
You cannot work with them. They canât be bound, and they definitely canât be bought or sold. Do not trust any spirit who claims to be a w*ndigo and do not trust any spirit worker who tries to sell you one.
W*ndigoag are Algonquian and Anishinaabe spirits. Algonquian people are the authorities on them, other Anishinaabe people less so. Non-Anishinaabe Natives cannot say that appropriation of w*ndigoag is okay because that isnât their culture and itâs definitely not their decision to make. You cannot give someone permission to use something that isnât yours.
The use of w*ndigoag in non-Native media is appropriation. The only exception to this is in when the creators work with Algonquian people to make respectful and accurate depictions. Youâll be very hard pressed to find cases of this.
W*ndigoag are not cryptids because they are sacred spirits. Abrahamic angels are not cryptids. Japanese yokai are not cryptids. Vodou loa are not cryptids. Respect indigenous beliefs as legitimate spirituality instead of reducing our cultures down to bastardized stories.
If you arenât Anishinaabe, you cannot be âwendigokinâ. Appropriation of indigenous spirituality isnât suddenly okay because your ~soul~ is an indigenous spirit. You are not entitled to our cultures or spiritual beliefs. Jfc.
âWendigocoreâ is also bullshit, what the fuck is wrong with you all? Our sacred spirituality is not your ugly ass aesthetic.
(Left those uncensored because itâs a summer afternoon and I want people in those tags to see this. Fuck off.)
Anishinaabe people are not obligated to share our SACRED STORIES with outsiders in order for them to be respected. We donât want you to make your depictions of w*ndigoag in your stories more accurate. We just want you to leave our cultures alone for once.
Now please stop sending me messages about w*ndigoag. I understand you all just want to learn but I am so fucking tired. Iâve answered these questions dozens of times and I need a break.
Donât start discourse on this post. I am not in the mood for it.
If any Algonquian or other Anishinaabe people have corrections, hmu.Â

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an incomplete list of unsettling short stories I read in textbooks
the scarlet ibis
marigolds
the diamond necklace
the monkeyâs paw
the open boat
the lady and the tiger
the ministerâs black veil
an occurrence at owl creek bridge
a rose for emily
(I found that one by googling âshort story corpse in the house,â first result)
the cask of amontillado
the yellow wallpaper
the most dangerous game
a good man is hard to find
some are well-known, some obscure, some I enjoy as an adult, all made me uncomfortable between the ages of 11-15
add your own weird shit, I wanna be literary and disturbed
The Tell-Tale Heart, The Gift of the Magi, The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calavaras County, Thank You Ma'am
the box social by james reaney. i remember we all had to silently read it in class, and you would hear the moment everyone reached the Part because some people would audibly go âwhatâ
wHat did I just put my eyes on
âThe Veldtâ by Ray Bradbury
Not quite a short story, but read in class: âThe Monsters are Due on Maple Streetâ from The Twilight Zone
Harrison Bergeron, Cat and the Coffee Drinkers
âWhere are you going and where have you beenâ by Joyce carol oates
âThe Pedestrianâ by Ray Bradbury
the lottery by shirley jackson
i canât believe Roald Dahlâs âThe Landladyâ wasnât already mentioned and also itâs not so much unsettling as more absurdist but âThe Leaderâ by Eugene Ionesco definitely made me go wtf
Ett halvt ark papper. I cried so much.
ĐĐžŃŃ Ń ĐźĐ°ĐˇĐ°Ńа, Đ. ШаНиПОв
A Sound of Thunder by Ray Bradbury
I Have no Mouth, and I Must Scream by Harlan Ellison
The Lottery by Shirley Jackson
All Summer in a Day by Ray BradburyÂ
Some of Us Had Been Threatening Our Friend Colby, by Donald Barthelme
I read Ray Bradburyâs âAll Summer In A Dayâ in seventh grade (it wasnât assigned, I was just going through my textbook for new stuff to read) and as a bullied kid with SAD, it Fucked Me Up.
An Ordinary Day with Peanuts, by Shirley Jackson
Eh, this was more like community college, but The Star by Arthur C. Clarke
Lamb to the Slaughter by Roald Dahl
and this story that I canât remember the name of and canât find, though it might be by O. Henry? itâs about a bunch of demons who want to stop Santa Claus from going through with Christmas, and he must travel through the mountains they inhabit to escape their vices? (good christ I canât remember the name for the life of me)
Ok but the laughing man and a good day for bananafish but j.d. Salinger
The City (195) Ray Bradbury. An intense commentary on colonialism and space exploration. I read it for a sci fi survey class.
Another short story I read in that sci fi class was Vaster than Empires and More Slow (1971) by Ursula K. Le Guin. A commentary on humanity and how human we believe ourselves to be. Also, an interesting commentary on mental health.
In the Woods Beneath the Cherry Blossoms in Full Bloom, written in 1947 by Ango Sakaguchi. It made my skin crawl the first time I read it.
Also going to recommend For A Breath I Tarry by Roger Zelazny, a commentary on whether AI can become human in a future without humans: http://www.kulichki.com/moshkow/ZELQZNY/forbreat.txt
whoever posted âThe Laughing Manâ and âA Good Day For Bananafishâ is Correct
the scarlet ibis
marigolds
the diamond necklace
the monkeyâs paw
the open boat
the lady and the tiger (I assume you meant Stocktonâs The lady or the tiger?)
the ministerâs black veil
an occurrence at owl creek bridge
a rose for emily
the cask of amontillado
the yellow wallpaper
the most dangerous game
a good man is hard to find
The Tell-Tale Heart
 The Gift of the Magi
The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calavaras County
 Thank You Ma'am
The box socialÂ
The Veldt
The Monsters are Due on Maple Street
Harrison Bergeron
Cat and the Coffee Drinkers
Where are you going and where have you been
The Pedestrianâ by Ray Bradbury
The lottery by shirley jackson
The Landlady
The Leader
Ett halvt ark papper.
ĐĐžŃŃ Ń ĐźĐ°ĐˇĐ°Ńа, Đ. ШаНиПОв
A Sound of ThunderÂ
I Have no Mouth, and I Must ScreamÂ
All Summer in a DayÂ
Some of Us Had Been Threatening Our Friend Colby
An Ordinary Day with Peanuts
The StarÂ
Lamb to the Slaughter
The laughing manÂ
A perfect day for bananafish
The City (link goes to compendium of short stories)
Vaster than Empires and More Slow (1971) by Ursula K. Le Guin.
In the Woods Beneath the Cherry Blossoms in Full BloomÂ
For A Breath I TarryÂ
All of Flannery O'Connorâs shorts.
I didnât read it in a text book, but âI Have No Mouth, and I Must Screamâ haunted me for life.
âWhere Are You Going, Where Have You Been?â feels like some liminal space I once visited, whenever I remember reading it.
Me on my way to Hawkins Indiana to play D&D with Will Byers
klaus + the lip quiver
Halloween is only several weeks away. You know what that means! PLEDGE YOUR ALLEGIANCE TO THE SKELETON WAR. OR ELSE SKELETONS WILL BLAME US IF THEY LOSE AND PUT BONES IN ALL OF OUR SOUP. ITâS AWFUL.

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iâm so sorry if someone made you think itâs hard to love you
December // Neck Deep