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theculturedmarxist · 1 year

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In photos of 2023’s World Economic Forum- or Davos as it is commonly called, after the Swiss resort town where it annually occurs- you might not notice the HEPA filters. They’re in the background, unobtrusive and unremarked upon, quietly cleansing the air of viruses and bacteria. You wouldn’t know- not unless you asked- that every attendee was PCR tested before entering the forum, or that in the case of a positive test, access was automatically, electronically, revoked. And if you happened to get a glimpse of the strange blue lights overhead, you could reasonably assume that their glow was simply a modern aesthetic choice, not the calming buzz of cutting edge Far UVC technology- demonstrated to kill microbes in the air.

It’s hard to square this information with the public narrative about COVID, isn’t it? President Biden has called the pandemic “over”. The New York Times recently claimed that “the risk of Covid is similar to that of the flu” in an article about “hold outs” that are annoyingly refusing to accept continual reinfection as their “new normal”. Yet, this week the richest people in the world are taking common sense, easy- but strict- precautions to ensure they don’t catch Covid-19 at Davos.

These common sense, easy precautions include high-quality ventiliation, use of Far UVC-lighting technology, and PCR testing. You’ll also see some masks at Davos, but generally, the testing + air filtration protocol seems to be effective at preventing the kind of super-spreader events most of us are now accustomed to attending.

It seems unlikely to me that a New York Times reporter will follow the super-rich around like David Attenborough on safari, the way one of their employees did when they profiled middle-class maskers last month. I doubt they will write “family members and friends can get a little exasperated by the hyper-concern” about the assembled Prime Ministers, Presidents and CEOs in Switzerland. After all, these are important people. The kind of people who merit high-quality ventilation. The kind of people who deserve accurate tests.

Why is the media so hellbent on portraying simple, scientifically proven measures like high-quality ventilation as ridiculous and unnecessary as hundreds of people continue to die daily here in the US?

Why is the public accepting a “new normal” where we are expected to get infected over and over and over again, at work events with zero precautions, on airplanes with no masks, and at social dinners trying to approximate our 2019 normal?

We deserve better. We deserve to be #DavosSafe as the hashtag going around on twitter puts it. Your children deserve to be treated with the care that world leaders are treating each other. Your family deserves to be protected from the disease which is still- unlike the flu- the third leading cause of death in the US. We don’t deserve to be shoved back into poorly ventilated workplaces while our politicians and press assure us that only crazy people would demand to breathe clean air.

Clean water and clean food are rights we fought for; we have regulatory bodies that ensure we aren’t exposed to pathogens via our water supply nor our food. In 1854, John Snow famously conducted his Broad Street Pump study in London and demonstrated that cholera was water-bourne; however, it took decades for our public policy to catch up with our scientific knowledge.

A public health case study published by the NBCI describes the years that followed:

The first use of chlorine as a disinfectant for water facilities was in 1897 in England. The first use of this method for municipal water facilities in the United States was in Jersey City, New Jersey, and Chicago, Illinois, in 1915. Other cities followed and the use of chlorination as standard treatment for water disinfection rapidly grew. During the 20th century, death rates from waterborne diseases decreased significantly, and although other additional factors contributed to the general improvements in health (such as sanitation, improved quality of life, and nutrition), the improvement of water quality was, without doubt, a major reason.

Forty-three years passed from the initial demonstration that pathogens were being spread via water, and public action and regulation to halt disease.

Can you imagine, in the 1890s, being somebody who argued against cleaning the water?

Can you imagine, in those years of plentiful cholera, calling the people who demanded shit-free water “hold outs”?

One thing COVID realists are accused of is being “doomsayers” and “fearmongers,” so let me share a dose of optimism about the future with you. When we choose- whenever we choose- to get COVID under control, there’s an exciting new world awaiting us. One, not only without constant COVID reinfection, but where our kids can grow up free of colds, flus, RSV, and many other common bugs. And no, contrary to what you may have heard, staying healthy (shockingly enough) is not bad for children!

Once we choose to institute ventilation standards and introduce new technologies like Far UVC lighting- and embrace masking as an easy, kind, and useful tool to control outbreaks- we can bring every nasty airborne pathogen under control the way we did cholera. We didn’t have the science before; now we do. (I mean that quite literally; I can’t recommend enough the linked Wired article cataloguing the long journey to establishing that Covid is, indeed, airborne).

We face a stark choice; down one road, the one with zero infrastructure upgrades, no air quality regulations, and Covid safety only for those who can afford it, you and your family will get Covid this year. You will get Covid next year. You will continue to get Covid over and over and over again, as the health problems - like cardiac damage, viral persistance, and immune system dysfunction- continue to build up. (The billionaires, of course, will not).

Down the other road, we quite simply treat ourselves the way Davos would. We engage with what the science is telling us and we build a safer, better world for our kids. We embrace the lessons this pandemic is teaching us, and let go of things we now know are harming people. We stop clinging desperately to the idea that 2019 will come back if we just get the virus one more time, and we come together to achieve what we’ve been told is impossible: elimination.

The economic elite thrive on our divisiveness and blame casting. They don’t mind that we’re calling each other names, engaging in racial stereotyping, or leaving disabled people to die, so long as we keep their machine running. But we can choose to stop throwing blame at each other, and direct it where it belongs: at the powerful people who’ve left us to suffer, at the politicians who are whipping people into a frenzy over masks instead of over our millions of dead, at the talking heads on TV that work so hard to convince us: you want to get sick. It’s better than being a *weirdo* or a *hold out*.

We needn’t wait 43 years to redirect our energies. France and Belgium have already introduced new air quality standards, and DIY projects to build Corsi-Rosenthal boxes for schools and healthcare settings have popped up around the country. We have the science, we have the technology. All we need now is the political will and the solidarity to truly end the pandemic- the kind of solidarity the super rich always show with one another.

The billionaires at Davos don’t accept continual Covid reinfection. They demand better. It’s time we demand better too.

#covid #covid 19 #covid prevention #davos world economic forum #world economic forum #forever covid

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ains-disco-spam · 7 months

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Thoughts on Lena

The first time I played through Disco Elysium, I talked to Lena right after Kim joined my party and immediately got the dialogue option where she says something racist.

Because of that, I was iffy on her from the beginning. But I’ve seen a lot of people say that they actually didn’t know about this dialogue or that they didn’t get it on their playthrough. Whenever I see this dialogue mentioned, there are always a lot of people saying how disappointed they are that she would say something like that because she seems like a nice old lady.

I think that this moment is actually one of the most important depictions of racism in the game. Besides this one instance, Lena is friendly toward you and Kim. If you call her out on the implication that Seolites are a different species than her and Harry, she basically says that being a different species isn't a bad thing because white people have earwax that smells and Seolites don't.

The whole interaction is such a small moment within the game, and a small part of her character. It’s so easy to miss. And that is exactly how racism works.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been talking to an older person who seems kind and then all of a sudden they say something extremely bigoted out of the blue. I actually got the idea to write this after the nice old lady who is a custodian at my job said something transphobic in front of me and it totally broke my heart.

It’s easy to condemn a cross-burning KKK member or a homophobic preacher who says that all LGBTQ+ people will burn in hell. It’s a lot harder for people to condemn bigotry when it comes from people that they otherwise see as kind.

But most bigots are not like Gary the Cryptofascist or Measurehead. Most of them are like Lena. They are the uncles who think that “if people just cooperated with the police then they wouldn’t be shot.” They are the classmates who make fun of the professor’s accent. They are docile old ladies who think that Seolites are not as human as white people are.

And that makes it harder for people to see the bigotry within themselves. People can easily tell themselves things like “I don’t want all trans people to die, so I’m not transphobic. I’m just worried for the children.” When the media only portrays bigotry in its most extreme forms, it is hard to see that being a little bit racist is still being racist.

And this is even more interesting because of her and Morrell’s friendship with Gary. He is a self-proclaimed fascist with an extensive collection of racist mugs, but Lena and Morrell still keep him around, presumably because they are willing to overlook his “differing political opinions” because they think that he is a good person in other ways. And because his fascist ideas do not affect people that look like them.

So yeah, I want to see more people talking about how fascinating Lena and Morrell are as depictions of racism in Disco Elysium.

#disco elysium #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #lena #lena disco elysium

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natlovesls2 · 3 months

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Why Me?

Lando x Latina!Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: 18+, brief mentions of razors (in a hair removal way and self harm way), mentions of blood once or twice, bullying, swearing (maybe), angst to fluff, no use of y/n

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1.5k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You don't feel good enough or your past experiences haunt you

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You stood in front of the mirror, awkwardly rubbing at the brown skin of your arms, pinching at the hair that was beginning to grow back— the prickly feeling, a reminder of the extra steps you had to take to feel slightly attractive. Shaving every bit of body hair has been your dirty secret since your mom allowed you near a razor. The pink plastic always tucked away in some corner of your bathroom, ready to save you from humiliation. You refused to ever let another person see you like that— refused yourself from being bullied or ridiculed ever again.

The memories of those elementary and early middle school days haunted you, taunting you at every moment those memories slipped into your mind. The awful names the children your age had called you stuck like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe in a busy street— the most pesky type of sticking. It clung and clung, refusing to leave the shoe and its place, leaving behind a tacky feeling that made walking uncomfortable. Those names left that same tacky feeling in your brain that made it impossible to feel comfortable in your skin.

You could still remember the day the boy you liked called you a man. The way he laughed and caused everyone at your table to laugh at you plagued you every day. It crawled into your brain on days when you least wanted it to, reminding you of the innocent childhood love you were denied. The constant whispers and laughter made around you reminded you that you weren’t loved or desired by the people you so desperately wanted to be approved by.

So, as you stood in front of your mirror looking at your sun-deprived, brown, and prickly skin-- you couldn’t help but hate yourself. You hated being the opposite of what everyone wanted. You hated that you were the Latina men wanted when they said they “love Latina women.” You despised the role in the media that women who looked like you had acquired— the maid. It tired you beyond belief to see other brown Latinas be portrayed as such as if you had no other value to society. It felt as if your skin was anything other than the protector it was meant to be. It felt more like a target— a target that yelled: berate me and make me feel like shit. And if your own ethnicity saw your skin as less than others, then what was there to expect from others? But of course, you hadn't always felt like that-- in fact, you had once loved the way you looked.

You sighed, turning the knobs of the shower on, letting it warm a bit before getting into it. You let the warm water hit your body, relaxing your thoughts for a while. The self-hatred and unpleasant memories wash away with the soap. The untouched razor in the corner of the shower finally caught your attention, bringing back everything that had just passed. And as you shakily picked up the razor, you wished you had been “blessed” with lighter skin that came with that hard-to-see body hair. You swiped the razor up and down your arms, cutting away your arm hair and, with it, washing away your shame.

The sudden knock at the door startles you back to reality, though you were sure you were out of it to begin with. “You okay in there? You’ve been in there for quite a while; I’m starting to worry,” your boyfriend yelled through the locked wooden door of the bathroom. The relationship had started two years ago and was everything your younger self had idolized and wished for.

“I’m fine,” you yelled back, quickly finishing your shower, wrapping a towel around your body, and opening the door.

He smiled at you, wrapping his arms around your waist, swaying you around. “You look beautiful,” he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips, resting his forehead against yours. He was the beautiful one in the relationship that was everyone’s opinion— including your own. Everyone online made it clear that Lando was out of your league, and you believed every word. It didn’t matter how much he told you that he loved you and that he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

“What’s wrong, love?” He whispers, rubbing his nose against your own, giving you another quick kiss before pulling away completely. He looked at you attentively, analyzing your facial and body expression.

“Why me?” You asked, voice cracking as you attempted to hold back the tears that had snuck up on you. “Why would you want to be with me?”

Lando reached out to gently caress your cheek, wiping away the tears that managed to escape you, “Why not? Why wouldn’t I choose you?”

“Look at me! I’m nothing like the ideal woman, at least not one that someone like you would want!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffed, shaking his head and pulling you closer.

“It means that you deserve someone who looks like they just walked off a runway show! Stop laughing, Lando, I’m being serious right now,” you push him away, smacking his shoulder out of frustration, stepping back as he outstretched his arms to, once again, wrap them around your body.

“Come on, there’s no way you’re actually being serious. You know why I love you.”

“It’s hard to know when no one else understands it.”

“It’s not for them to understand! We’ve talked about this, and what did you tell me? You promised that you wouldn’t pay attention to what people say,” he ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his face.

Of course, you remembered the promise and the million other similar promises. It was easy to make those promises but incredibly hard to keep them– especially when his fans constantly reminded you of your flaws and misfortunes.

“Sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you. Just get dressed; I’ll wait for you in the living room,” he leaned forward slightly to give you another kiss but hesitated and decided against it.

"I love you," he said quietly, closing the bedroom door as he walked out, once again leaving you with your thoughts.

A feeling of nausea settles in the twisting pit of your stomach as you dress into the outfit you had chosen before your shower: a green dress that stops a few inches above your knees with a thin white cardigan. Slowly, you walked out of your shared bedroom, watching as Lando's eyes lit up as soon as he saw you– giving you that toothy smile he always gave you when he was especially happy. The type of smile that always made you feel special and eased your worries, even if it was just temporary. You couldn't help but smile back at him, giving him the same wide smile. "Stop it, you're giving me butterflies," you laugh at the situation; it was strange that he could make you feel so loved with something as simple as a smile.

"Maybe that was the plan... you look beautiful– you always do." He always knew the right things to say and when to say them. You always liked that about him; Lando was confident, and that made him reliable. He knew what he wanted; sure, he didn't have his whole life figured out, but when things went wrong, his confidence made it seem as if plan B was always meant to be plan A. You suppose this is why you had fallen for him so quickly. His ability to fix things that were broken and had gone wrong.

"I love you," You quickly said, wrapping your arms around him– hugging him as tight and close as you possibly could.

He pushed against you, holding your shoulders with his hands and smiling, "You love me?"

"Yes, so much. More than I could have ever imagined loving someone."

"I love you too. You're so perfect for me in every way– I mean it. You're so kind to people, even when they aren't kind to you. You care so much about everything, and you're so passionate about it. That's why, that's why I love you," he pulled you back into the hug, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

You knew you would continue to feel uncomfortable in your own skin, and that feeling wouldn't go away for a long time. However, as long as you had Lando by your side, it would be a little less painful. "I'm going to remind you that you are beautiful and that what you see as flaws are the things I love most about you for as long as the universe lets me be by your side," he promised, and you knew he would stay true to that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Note: this is loosely based on my personal experience so if this isn’t your experience as a Latina, I understand. That being said, everyone deserves love regardless of their skin color, race, or ethnic background. I am extremely sorry if anyone has been told over wise or has been made to feel unloveable. -`♡´-

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mareastrorum · 5 months

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I have never enjoyed a D&D series more than Misfits & Magic and it's entirely because of Brennan Lee Mulligan. I am fully aware that most viewers thought Evan Kelmp was ridiculously over the top and played up for laughs. I'm sure so many people thought it was for comedy.

I have never seen a poverty-stricken and violence-afflicted character portrayed so well.

People who have not experienced that level of desperation rarely ever comprehend the constant level of fear, but Brennan was locked in on it wonderfully.

Every moment is fixated on food, safety, and shelter. It takes so much effort and emotional vulnerability to shift attention from it. Free food? Gotta gently press to get more and more and more and more, but you can't ask too quick or people might kick you out. Someone's a threat? Gotta make it 100% clear that you will not be fucked with, and it does not matter what it costs you socially. Need to do something long term? Gotta figure out where and how you're going to sleep without anyone to watch your back; can you lock yourself in somewhere? Can it be somewhere alone? Where can you hide?

What will this cost?

The strained politeness and immediate switch to a fight response was excellent. People who want to help you do not trigger violent responses. People that do not want to help you and are in your business need to be dealt with. Brennan knew exactly how to demonstrate the tension of usually being treated as a dangerous animal rather than a person. It instills a script to be as perfect a person as possible, and as soon as anyone veers off the social script, be exactly what they're afraid of: a monster. Better to be a monster than a victim.

The one mistake was during the holiday special that he said credit cards instead of (stolen) gift cards for making a shank with razor blades. You'd get a secured one at 18, but not before then. Otherwise would have been perfect. (Duct tape's expensive, but not too hard to steal. I carried a bag with my laundry coins as an impromptu weapon. As soon as he ordered any drink with a glass bottle, I yelled, "Make a shank!" AND HE FUCKING DELIVERED.)

I often get so annoyed at terrible portrayals of children that grew up in impoverished, violent circumstances, but this is the first time I legitimately enjoyed myself.

Well done.

#dimension 20 #misfits and magic #evan kelmp #brennan lee mulligan

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asvterias · 25 days

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𝖨𝗍 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝖥𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖣𝗈𝗐𝗇 ~ 𝖢𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖫𝖺 𝖱𝗎𝖾

part two || chapter playlist (1) & chapter playlist (2) || clarisse masterlist

helping palestine 🇵🇸

warnings: the killing of a monster?, character death, crying, some blood mentions & stabbing (not inflicted against us!)

pairings: (both aged up to 16) clarisse la rue ✘ black!fem!demigod!reader (daughter of poseidon) | younger!brother percy jackson ✘ older!sister!reader

genres: sally & reader’s mom (jessica) are lovers bcs GENUINELY FUCK GABE (hate his ass), reader & grover has a sibling bond, hard cold angst, sad angsty beginning, reader’s mom actually dies 🥲, reader’s emotions control the weather, very sad!reader, kinda depressed!reader, reader in denial, MAJOR character death, reader is kinda a girlboss, kinda!dark!reader x always!clueless!percy, vengeful!reader, reader is OUT for blood (specifically the Minotaur)

summary: secrets are liable to make or break the jackson-matthews family until they result in dangerous situations, nearly escaping from death…well nearly most of them managed a safe recovery.

word count: 2.7k+

tag list: @lvrue @kyuupidwrites @xanasaurusrex @urdeadpoet @aurorailvsm @quinnsadilla @st4rzl7 @p0rkbun @star-girl69 @aphroditesmoon @lcvved @tinytea-biscut @dearlydarlings @nvirskies @rocknr0ll @urbisexualfriend @k4zuhas-visi0n @marlswhore @lovelyy-moonlight @thegiganticgirlkisser @thewritingbarbie @apocalypticlibrary @solecitoszn @mira-belcul18 @ampitrit3 @mthefae @sleighingstella @korizzybee @hoku-k @liv444me @lila-went-missing @mariposa555 @cherriesnbutter @justintinderlake4 @natasha-took-fall-damage @b0ok-lover @novastarrs @urfavefag @babyzzlove @importantpotato @laughingcheese037 @iheartamberfreeman @karslyn @haerinfrr @gianni7867 @jimfiqs @4evafvctional @lyzsaphrodite @f4riedimples

author’s note: i really enjoyed writing this ngl! also i have a faceclaim for reader’s mom, jessica matthews is portrayed by candice patton.

Born from the same father but different mothers, your sibling bond with Percy was unbreakable, certainly unconditional. Your mothers were very close, growing up as best friends from when they were teenagers, accomplishing every achievement together for the sake of you and Percy’s life.

Of course, your moms fell in love, hosting a small spring wedding when you were 10 and Percy was 6 years old.

So when Sally had to move again, your mom didn’t ask questions and instead packed your bags, placing them in the car and driving to the airport. A loving family of four was maintained by dark secrets that cost lives.

With everything going on, with the upbringing of your heritage, both of your mothers went through thick and thin. Developing from friends into lovers hardly changed anything, presumably their love maintained massively for themselves and shared children.

It was a rainy day, you and Percy had just been expelled from Yancy. Nancy bullied your brother so you reacted like how any big sister would and punched her before she flew into the nearby fountain, completely drenched in water. That little defense mechanism got both you and your little brother expelled from Yancy indefinitely as you two took a train back to your parents’ apartment.

You two apologized profusely to your moms, but they remained nonchalant, telling you two to pack a bag because you were visiting your residential cabin.

Something was wrong, extremely wrong and you felt it in your gut as soon as you stepped foot into the unkept cabin. From the moment your mom became sorrowful and honest, retelling the story of how she met your father, you knew something was up. Sadly, you just didn’t know that it’d be life-changing for you both.

Interrupted by rapid knocks on the cabin door made you jump a little in surprise and your mom, Sally, went to open the door. It was Percy’s bestfriend, Grover. He was soaked from the rain and began to blabber on to your moms, incoherently talking about revealing the big secret.

“Grover…” Percy speaks, waringly looking down at his friend’s lower body, or rather the lack thereof. Shockingly enough, his lower body wasn’t one of a human’s but one of the legs of an animal, specifically a goat.

“What?” Grover snapped, turning his head to the siblings, hitting his hoove against the wooden floor.

“Grover, why is there half a goat in your pants?”

“Did your mom fuck a goat or something?” The question had to be asked, but it yet remained to be answered.

Doubled in confusion when Grover, Percy’s best friend was also your satyr protector, dedicating to getting both of you at Camp Half-Blood safely. When your mothers’ actually revealed the truth about your father’s real identity, you were appalled, to say the least. You assumed he was a deadbeat and couldn’t care less about his kids, and you were absolutely right. Only now his identity expanded in further detail, making him out to be a god, one of the most powerful gods there ever was. Therefore making you and Percy, forbidden children in both worlds, are continually being hunted by monsters, who strive to see your demise.

“Do you believe this, Y/N?” Percy turns to you, mouth open in bewilderment.

“Right now, I don’t know what to believe anymore.” You truthfully spoke.

“Did you know I’m 24?” Grover asked you innocently.

You and Percy shared the same shocked expression, “Wait? What?”

Grover winces, staring back at the two adults in the car, “Out of curiosity, what exactly did you tell them?”

“We were getting there!” Your moms shouted simultaneously at Grover.

Grover nods his head, leaning back into the seat.

“Moonlight…listen to me.” your mom looks at you through the mirror as your gaze hesitantly meets hers. “You and Percy are forbidden children, monsters are going to attack you every day, this camp can protect you both.”

“Why can’t you and Sally come with us then?” you bargained with her, tears forming in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine, much less experience your life without your mother and Sally. The same women who nurtured you since you were babies and taught you everything you knew. You refused to give up on them, everything they did was to protect and love you, and now it was your turn.

Sally starts to talk, eyes stuck on the road, “We humans are not allowed there. Only demigods like you two.”

“But we don’t wanna leave you two.” Percy persisted.

“You’re our moms.”

“You’re gonna have to, that Minotaur isn’t gonna stop until he kills both of you.”

All of a sudden, a collision hit the car with enough brute force to send the car off the road and everything went black. It was all so quick, the collision, the swiveling of the car and landing on the side of the road, far from bypassers to rescue.

The rain pattering against the car turned into a heavy rainpour as everyone in the car, hanging upside down with the seat belt anchoring them, remained still, all unconscious.

After a while, the dulling pain in your head sharply woke you up, being the first to recover from the crash. Holding your head in pain as you slowly opened your eyes, feeling the blood trickle from your head, surveying your surroundings as you saw Percy and Grover still unconscious. Quickly unbuckling your seatbelt, you got out of your seat, repeating the same action to your younger brothers.

One by one, you carefully got everyone from the car as they began to wake up. A growl from the distance urges you to move faster as you help your other mom, Sally, get out of the damaged car.

Sally, Percy, and Grover were recovering, standing on their feet, checking for any injuries and your mom was the last one who needed rescuing.

“Mom…” you shake her but her body is motionless as the tears well up in your eyes.

You felt Sally’s arm pushing you back, sending you into Percy’s and Grover’s embrace as you nervously observed.

“Come on, come on, Jess…” Sally murmurs, kneeling down, searching for a pulse. “You gotta survive, we have children together, we can’t lose you right now.”

“Is she okay?” Percy chirps up, deciding to speak for you.

You found everything incomprehensible around you, your senses became deafening and a high-pitched ringing in your head matched the loud heart beating in your chest.

When Sally stayed silent, it only worsened your anxiety, “Mom, is she okay?!” Percy speaks again, adding some base in his voice yet his tone slightly wavers.

“She has a fading pulse…” Sally whispers, sparing a sad glance at you and quickly turning back to Jessica, “It’s decreasing rapidly,”

Dropping to the muddy slippery ground on your knees, tears quickly filling the brim of your eyes, threatening to fall as you moved closer to her.

“Mommy…” you cradle her face into your chest, saddened by her face, eyes closed as blood trickles down her forehead.

“We can revive her, right!” Your voice cracks, whipping your head to Sally, “Tell me we can revive her!”

“Y/N…” Sally sighs deeply, trying to contain her own tears. You turn around, looking down at your mother, resting on your lap, body motionless yet her face looks peaceful.

“No! We- I can save her. We can do heart-to-heart compressions,” you shake your head, starting to do heart-to-heart compressions. “Why isn’t she waking up? Mommy, this isn’t funny anymore now, you have to wake up and help us. Please I can’t do this without you, I can’t do this whole new demigod thing without you.” your voice was dry, as you leaned down, blowing air into her mouth, hoping for a miracle to occur.

You didn’t truly believe in miracles, but for your mother, you’d start believing it. Right now, you would do whatever it took to bring her back even if it meant wishing on the impossible.

“We didn’t do plenty of things yet, I wanted you and Sally to meet my first girlfriend, attend my graduation, be there when I move out and eventually get married, and get grandkids from Percy because we both know I’m not going through that torture.”

Your senses became intensely heightened, catching onto Grover’s whisper to Sally, ignoring him as you spoke up.

“I refuse to leave her alone, she isn’t dead, just having some problems waking up and getting a pulse back.” You were in extreme denial, “Come on, mum, you focus on her face, giving her air and I’ll do her chest,” you beckoned Sally forward.

“Sweetheart…she’s already….gone.”

“She’s my mom and Percy’s mom, your wife. She wasn’t supposed to die this early. If all you’re gonna do is stand there and be useless, don’t bother talking to me.” It wasn’t intentional to snap at your other mom, but your emotions were driving you crazy and brazen.

“You’re the sun to my moon, Mommy, I can’t shine when you’re not there with me.” You sobbed. Despite being physically exhausted, you weren’t giving up on trying to revive your mom, she would have never given up on you so you would stop trying until you had something, anything; a pulse, a gasp, her eyes shooting up. “Remember…” You weakly asked, holding onto the moon-shaped necklace on your neck, staring at your mom’s sun-shaped necklace.

The sky crackled with slight thunder as the rain poured down heavier. Finally understanding the meaning of your nickname, you sobbed desperately until the broken cracks of your voice gave out.

There was no sunshine without her moonlight, always them being in a pair, nothing without the other. Sadly, you lost your sunshine, darkening your moonlight to its deepest depths, harvesting it into something vengeful and heartless. Something that even scared you to a certain extent, like this was another new side flourishing because of the horrible circumstances.

“Hold up, is Y/N doing that?” Percy quietly asks Grover.

You rested your mom on the ground, ignoring the cold rainpour.

“She’s gone…” Sally cries, grabbing your arm and pushing you into her body for a hug. You cried into the hug, tightening your grip as your wails echoed throughout the forest. Maybe this was all a nightmare, where you’d wake up and relax in reality. This was the time that your mom needed to wake you up and reassure you that she was right there, staying with you and protecting you.

Your chest clenched against your rib cage, devastation wracked throughout your entire body as the tears relentlessly spilled out.

“But she- she can’t be gone!” You hiccup, eyes glossing over with fresh tears, feeling another arm snuggle around your side.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” she caressed your face.

“What kind of demigod I am, if I was blessed with all these supernatural powers, can’t even save my Mom from death? What kind of daughter am I to just stand by and watch her own mother die? I don’t want this demigod life anymore, please take it all away if it meant my mother is coming back, to me, to home.”

“Don’t you ever say that again, you did everything you could, your perseverance is one of your strongest qualities that Jessica adored very much. She wouldn’t want you to doubt yourself like this nor would I,” Sally reassures you, resting a thumb on your cheek, “Our beautiful daughter, she’s so proud of you, I want you to know that.”

Your eyes were puffy and red from tears as you listened to your mother’s words of encouragement and reassurance.

Much to your dismay, another loud roar broke the semi-family grievance, reminding them of the harsh reality.

“We have to go now!” Grover hastily urges.

“I’m not leaving my mom here like this,” you point to her figure on the ground.

“We won’t, I promise you, sweetie. I’ll give her a proper burial, but right now we have to go!” Her tone was urgent as she quickly scanned the dark forest with the illumination from the car light.

You hurriedly rushed towards your mother’s still figure on the muddy ground, leaning down.

“Goodbye, Mom,” you whisper hoarsely, kissing her forehead for the last time. You stared down at her neck, gazing at the sunlight necklace she wore and yanked it off, and shoved the meaningful jewelry into your back pocket. Your heart broke again, realizing she can’t respond back, despite being in extreme denial.

Unfortunately, that was the last time you saw your moms, one died in your arms and the other sacrificed herself for her children’s safety.

The pain and suffering became a dangerous mix of anger and hatred directed at the Minotaur.

Grover’s statements fall on deaf ears, partially drowned out by the heavy rainfall. “Y/N and Percy come on, we’re almost there.” you glance at your blonde brother who holds the same expression on his face. You were going to avenge your mothers, and you didn’t care if you died trying. This monster had already taken your worlds away, so you had nobody else to lose.

Grabbing the pen from your pocket, holding it out, and witnessing it transform into a golden sword at will.

The fight with the Minotaur was brutal and intense, alongside the heavy downpour of rain attempted to slow down the intensity of this fight. Despite double-teaming the monster, he resisted surrender, determined to win and kill you both. Surprisingly, you gained the agility to climb onto his back while Percy distracted him.

Somehow, you gained the ultimate advantage with the lighting sword in your hand and stabbed the monster in its eye, ignoring his roar of pain. If anything its pain only further encouraged you to continue.

Too full of adrenaline, you grab his two horns, gripping them and pulling them out with your utmost strength. A new sudden strength you just obtained. Gasping in shock was quickly outlived when your sword slipped out of your hand and dropped onto the muddy ground, disappearing from your eyesight. Stumbling onto his feet, inflicted by the pain, you groaned, gripping the monster by his rough skin as he attempted to shake you off.

“Percy the sword!” You yelled at him. Your brother throws the sword upwards as you catch the weapon.

You stab the monster in the neck, wincing at his loud screeches, but continue to stab his neck. Once the monster was deemed weak enough, you sliced the sword right through his neck, seizing the opportunity of successfully killing it.

This was all this stupid monster’s fault. If it hadn’t chased after you or slammed itself into the car, your mom would be alive. If it didn’t have such a bloodthirst for demigods, Sally, your mum would still be alive. Alive. Alive. Alive. You just wished your moms were alive, to see you mature into such a courageous daughter to avenge their deaths.

Soon enough, the monster staggered on its feet and its body began to disintegrate into black dust before your eyes.

“Y/N!” The voice becomes disoriented as you stumble on the ground, two arms catching you as you faint, everything fading away into a black abyss.

likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

#dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse la rue x black!reader #clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue angst #clarisse la rue series #clarisse la rue imagine #clarisse la rue oneshot #daughter of poseidon

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ma1dita · 7 months

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to love is to rest

words: less than 1k

summary: Regulus whispers sweet nothings to you as you sleep.

warnings: none :) regulus x gn!reader, sleepy babies in love, he is an overthinker poor baby, children at war

a/n: had to get this sleepy little regulus oneshot out of my head! thanks for the love & feel free to send more requests & yell at me in the comments ; barely edited sorry i just want to be HELD

(posted: 10/17/23)

—

Regulus doesn’t even remember falling asleep. It was hard to, with the war looming over the horizon. He’d lay awake in bed for hours, pouring over strategies on how to take down the Dark Lord until sleep would rob him of consciousness, without permission. He fights back with fists, wrangling it in his smooth hands with copious amounts of dark roast coffee and ambition. Sirius always said he was a fighter, but he moreso believes that he is one who endures. There isn’t much of a choice in it all, despite the fight he puts up. One must fall victim to sleep, and Regulus is familiar with having to endure the choices life makes for him.

“Baby? What time is it?” he mumbles, sleep still clutching at his eyelids.

The room is dimly lit and the candles are burning low. Blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes to the darkness, he observes his surroundings and notices that you are nestled into his side, nose against his heart and lightly snoring. Cheekbones framed in moonlight and a little pool of drool over the beating in his chest, Regulus would’ve never thought love to be so soft. Love has been portrayed to him as a scary, unsightly thing—proclamations that cut like swords, a fierce grip that bruises, a performance that marks one forever. But as he smiles and traces your spine over the shirt you stole from his trunk, he realizes he’s never known a love like yours.

“I didn’t know how much I could love until I met you.” he whispers.

Having you here in his arms with only the moon as his witness, he worships you as if you’re something divine. He believes this so strongly because loving you is easy, with no expectations to uphold the family name, no etiquette to perfect, or punishment other than the one he brings upon himself if he gets it wrong. He wonders what must’ve gone right in his past lives so that he can hold someone so closely—someone so angelic. He's far from religious but he’d do anything you ask him to, and you believe in him too much for him to fail. The faith you have in him could give him the strength to survive any unforgivable curse, any death sentence the Dark Lord orders him so as long as he can run home to you. There’s so much he has to do at 17, so much to more to live for— and it’s inconceivable how much he prays to survive long enough to see you at ease.

“You don’t even know how little I loved before I loved you. You don’t even know…”

Should his chest dare give in at this exact moment, he reckons he could make his bones a home for you to live in. At least you’ll have something to remember him by, and his love will be immortalized by you, echoing into the next lifetime until you find each other again. There is nothing more mortifying than to be forgotten. Your hand reaches his forearm and for once, he doesn’t flinch. Regulus presses kisses onto your wrist so that you can carry it with you tomorrow, until you ask him to replenish you with more. His nose glides along your hairline, pressing kisses so that your mind won’t forget. He hopes these acts of love reach your subconscious, that in every plane of existence, you know of him.

“I cannot wait to live the life I stayed for. This is all for you, my love. I promise.”

A sharp inhale comes from your nose as you shift, waking from a dream. Your lips carve another soft spot onto his chest, and he is utterly yours. Fingers reach to cradle his jaw, smiling sleepily as you settle back into his space. His mind is finally empty, finally at peace—even if it’s just for tonight, he can be just a boy in bed with the person he loves.

Sleep covers the both of you slowly, and gently. He shuts his eyes once more and lets it envelop him without a struggle. Yes, he doesn’t know much about love, but for you, he’ll figure it out. For now, Regulus Black is at ease.

—

Love,

you claim, comes close to this,

no space

between your words, a hand

over the other’s heart. How do you live

with this distance?

-Nick Flynn

taglist: @jsjcue

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders era #marauders x reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black is my baby #for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

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spacerockfloater · 2 months

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Why the fuck does Laena Velaryon, who is canonically younger than Rhaenyra Targaryen in the show, look like a fucking 20-year-old in episode 5 while Rhaenyra, her elder, still looks fucking 13? Why the actual fuck did they change the YOUNGER girl’s actress and made her look older, but it’s okay for Rhaenyra to continue looking like a preteen? I’ll tell you why.

They’re trying to distract us from the fact that creepy ass Daemon is courting a 14-year-old. A FOURTEEN YEAR OLD. Rhaenyra is 15 in episode 1 and Laena is 12, meaning they have a 3 year age gap. Then, Viserys tells Rhaenyra that she must marry since she’s 17 now, making Laena 14, maybe 15 at best. So they obviously can’t afford having Daemon thirst over a child again, therefore this is a shitty attempt to cover up the fact that Laena still is a very fucking young child.

HBO what is this? Why do your casting choices indicate that you’re trying to use some kind of ageist technique to manipulate your viewers? Why are the supposedly good guys, Rhaenyra and her children, portrayed by very young actors? Is this to show how innocent and pure they are? Why are the characters who are supposedly evil, Aegon and Aemond, or the character for whom we shouldn’t worry too much about since she’s just a tool for Daemon’s story line to develop, Laena, portrayed by obviously older actors even though they’re all supposed to be kids? Because the youth = good people and old = bad people analogy is fucking gross and lowkey paedophilic. Not to mention how weird it is to make all the black girls in the show look like fucking grown ups. What kind of racist bullshit is this?

I can’t understand HBO’s decisionmaking for the love of me. Like, on the one hand, it’s so obvious that they’re forcing Daemon and Rhaenyra down our throats, to the point that I actually laughed out loud when the show runner said “he doesn’t get why people like Daemon”. Like, my guy, you MADE the show. You made him look like an appealing, dangerous, sexy, strong, victorious and mysterious man, so what do you mean you don’t get the appeal? On the other hand though, most of the actions that they allow Daemon to perform are so horrifying that it makes it impossible for a sane person to stand beside him and defend him. Like, they try to sugarcoat that he’s an abusive piece of shit yeah, but they somehow don’t shy away from the fact that he’s terrible? Are they doing both of these things on purpose? Are they trying to challenge the viewer, to show us how abusers, despite being openly deranged, still have their way of dazzling their victims, the average person, and hypnotising them with their charm? Is Daemon doing to us (and by us I mean you Daemon stans, not me, stay safe though) what he’s doing to Rhaenyra and Laena? Are the show producers testing the average viewer’s intelligence and ability to recognise an abuser? Will there be a lesson to be learned?

I would like to hope so but I highly doubt it, because while one could support this theory by arguing that changing Laena’s actress is an attempt to mask Daemon’s degenerative nature a bit so that it isn’t completely obvious that he’s a bad man, someone else could counter this argument by saying that we’ve already seen Daemon groom a minor so this wouldn’t be something new. We’ve seen him do much more violent crimes actually, so why shy away from the fact he’s a groomer when we are already aware of this? Idk man, I really want to think that HBO is trying to make us see that Daemon is an evil person, but then indirectly glorifying him constantly makes me believe they just want people to root for him.

P.S. I may anger a lot of people by saying this, so I’ll make myself clear by stating that I love and greatly respect actors who specialise in portraying evil characters, because doing so and not losing yourself is a challenge (*cough* Leto *cough*) but if done correctly, it’s a true showcase of one’s talent and hard work. Lee, De Niro, Hopkins, Bardem and Rickman are just a few to name. However, Matt Smith has never rubbed me the right way. No hate to the guy, I don’t even know him, but I’ve seen him play the villain in three separate occasions (HOTD, Last Night in Soho, Morbius) and I just get these weird vibes, but I usually told myself it’s just my imagination running wild. However, I recently found out that Smith claimed that Daemon is a loyal man who loves deeply and that his “heir for a day” brothel feast was his way of honouring Aema, which really disturbed me for obvious reasons. I don’t know if he said this because he’s trying to defend his character and by extension himself, or if he just wants to promote the show, or if he doesn’t understand Daemon or if he funnily enough has fallen victim to his own character’s charm and I don’t care because it is a dangerous thing to say. Painting this character, the arrogant, obnoxious, self serving, people slaughtering, wife murdering, backstabbing, abusing, grooming, lying, manipulating, war criminal of a man, in such a positive light while being a man yourself, knowing that most of this character’s supporters are young impressionable women who just find him hot, makes me lowkey wanna cover my drink in his presence, I don’t know.

#hbo #hbo max #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd critical #house targaryen #house velaryon #anti rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #laena velaryon #anti daemon targaryen #anti daemyra #ageism #matt smith #anti targ stans #anti targ restoration #pro team green #team green #anti team black

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