#the way it allows you to create things almost as if they don’t really exist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

star-girl69 · 4 months

Text

Fade Into You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you fell first, but clarisse fell harder. requested by anonymous!

a/n: decided to feed y’all today….. two fics i’m a monster that just creates and creates. this was so funny bc i kept accidentally writing angst and i had to stop myself. they’re allowed to have crushes on each other. it’s ok. this was hard anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Fade Into You - Mazzy Star

warnings: just so cutesy, swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of blood and injury, soft clarisse i looooovvvvveeeeee you, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Your chest heaves. You’ve never ran that fast or that far before in your life. Your satyr protector runs ahead to get the healers, and you crash against some random building- a tool shed, maybe?

You groan, crouching down to clutch at your lower leg sporting a large gash running blood. You don’t remember how it happened. Maybe it was when you fell? You could have sliced it open on an unfortunately sharp stick.

You don’t even want to think about the fact that the stupid monster thing chasing you could have gotten close enough to claw at you.

“Hey, hey,” someone says, crouching down next to you. She’s wearing an orange shirt. Her hair is curly, her eyes are pretty and brown, and oxygen isn’t getting to your brain so she kind of seems like an angel. “Oh, wow,” she mutters, looking at your leg. “One second, ‘kay?”

“Wait,” you say, grabbing onto her forearm. She looks up at you.

“I’m going two steps away, dummy.” She laughs, and you’ll remember that sound for the rest of your life.

She leaves you, and you almost want to cry because you feel so alone. You’ve just been told you’re a demigod, then you were forced to run through the woods, your heart is still hammering and your leg fucking burns.

But she was right. It was only two steps, and she comes back, the door of what must be some sort of storage shutting behind her.

She leans back down and presses a towel against your gash.

You hiss.

“Sorry,”

“You’re not.” She laughs again. More beautiful music in your ears.

“I’m not,” she agrees.

You fall into silence, it’s so dark out, but you can see everything about her so clearly.

“You can stop breathing so heavily,” she whispers, the shouting of your satyr protector getting closer, along with what must be the healers. “Camp Half-Blood is surrounded by a magical barrier. You’re safe here. Well, at least, no monsters are gonna get you.

“O-okay,” you mumble. You aren’t sure if you believe her. You don’t think you believe anything anymore.

The healers push her away, you’re so so tired, and she stands up, dusting off her hands.

“Thank you, Clarisse,” one of the healers says. “We’ll take it from here.”

Clarisse.

—-

The purpose of Clarisse La Rue’s entire existence seems to be to drive you insane.

The way her arms flex when she wields her spear, the way she lifts her shirt up to dab at sweat on her brow; and the way you can see her toned stomach and the faintest hint of abs you would actually kill to touch. The way she smiles, even though it’s never really genuine, and the way she laughs when she’s making fun of someone.

She was the first person you met at camp, and you’re pretty sure she doesn’t even remember it, yet alone know your name.

It was ironic, as the daughter of Aphrodite, to be quietly pining over someone from the distance. And it sucked, but maybe you would just always have this quiet crush on Clarisse, and you learned to take it like you took your breakfast.

Until the start of this summer, when everyone came back to camp, it was alive again, and it all changed. And now you’re fucked.

—-

You smile, watching a few of the younger campers scream about how amazing the lake is. Summer’s just started. It’s so beautiful this time of year. They didn’t have as traumatic experiences as you, no monsters chased them right up to the barrier of camp. The lake is huge and so blue it seems otherworldly- probably because it is.

You slam into something.

It’s an awkward flare of limbs and muttered obscenities, but you manage to keep yourself upright by falling back into a very convenient tree.

“Sorry,” you say, looking up and expecting to make eye contact with anyone but her.

You haven’t been face to face with Clarisse in four years. You mouth snaps shut, and you’re sure you look like a terrified deer in headlights.

She’s frozen just like you.

“W-watch where you’re going,” she hisses, pushing you farther into the tree as she walks past you.

Did Clarisse just stutter?

—-

Clarisse stares at you.

You blush like you’re about to turn into a flamingo.

The cycle repeats.

—-

This year, the Ares and Aphrodite cabins were paired together to share the field for sword practice just before dinner. The sun is hidden by the trees, providing some nice shade as you frown at all the Ares kids sparring like their lives depend on it.

While Aphrodite kids are not the most naturally skilled in fighting, you’re still demigods, and you still have to know how to protect yourselves.

Matty, a Ares child and your sister Tyla’s boyfriend, already sparred three times, winning against his siblings, then sparred with Tyla once; which just ended with her getting bored after a minute and dropping her sword before jumping into his arms.

You watch random people spar. Everyone moves around you, Tyla and Matty are on top of each other next to you on the bench, everyone walks around you to collect their water bottles from the table behind you.

“Aren’t you gonna spar, Y/N?” Tyla asks, fiddling with Matty’s hands.

“No,” you laugh.

“That’s against the rules.”

You know that voice, you hear that annoyingly angelic voice in your dreams.

Clarisse sits down next to you. You can hear Tyla smiling. Only a few of your siblings who can be trusted to keep a secret know about your wretched crush. You’re probably blushing.

“Uh, what?” you say, looking in her direction but not risking actually looking at her.

“You have to spar,” she says, like it’s painfully obvious, kicking out her legs.

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” you shrug.

“Sounds like you’re scared, Y/N,” Matty muses.

You shoot him a bored look. “Sounds like you’re whipped, Matty.”

Tyla is currently in Matty’s lap, her hands in his hair.

“Oh, definitely,” he says, turning towards Tyla with a sweet smile on his face and she coos and immediately attaches her face to his.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter, turning away from the two of them having borderline sex on the bench.

Clarisse laughs.

You clench your fist, you feel like you’re gonna explode being so close to her and not able to climb up into her lap and kiss her like a woman starved.

“You still have to spar, you know.”

“Are you going to tell on me?”

“Hm, no. I won’t have to.”

You finally look towards her, if only because you’re confused, but she’s looking straight out at the the distance, where a certain centaur is making his way to the fields-

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, immediately jumping up and scrambling for a sword from the pile behind you.

You turn around, hoping one of your siblings is free so you can spar with them-

The sword is ripped out of your hands.

“That one sucks,” Clarisse says, simply, while you stand there with your mouth open. She rifles through the swords. “Use this one instead.”

The one she hands you does seem a lot easier to hold. Not too heavy, not too light.

How the hell could she tell which one is best for you just by looking at you?

“Matty,” Clarisse says. “Chiron’s coming.”

Tyla and Matty both hop up, giggling at they make their way towards one of the marked circles.

As you’re left there with Clarisse, it suddenly hits you that after four years of simple indifference, she’s talking to you like she knows you. Or like she wants to know you.

You like her too much to question it. You want her too much to be bothered as to why she’s giving you five minutes of her time.

Clarisse walks away. You thought it was going to happen, so your heart feels this sort of heavy that is indescribable, but she turns around.

“Are you coming?” she asks, deadpan.

“Oh. Uh, yeah,” you say, sticking your sword under your arm and cracking your knuckles. With Chiron showing up, she leads you to the marked circle all the way at the edge of the field, the start of the woods, the very last one.

She stops and turns around, this sort of nonchalant but smug look on her face. She reaches forward and bats your hands away from each other with a single swat that leaves you so shocked from the feeling of her skin on hers that your hands fall to your sides.

“Stop that. You’ll hurt ‘em.”

Here, right in front of the trees, the sun shining through the gaps shines off of Clarisse’s tan skin and her bronze armor in a way that makes her look otherworldly.

Clarisse’s that kind of pretty where you just never want to stop staring at her. The kind of pretty where you just want to fade into her and be next to her; the kind of pretty where nothing compares to her but it just watches her too.

Like the sun behind her, it isn’t jealous, it just admires her and shines off her skin.

She’s smirking at you, her knees bending into an offensive position, her spear pointing at you.

“He’s watching,” she taunts, and you’re really not in the mood for a lecture and the loss of dessert privileges, so you copy her.

“I’m not the best-”

She spins forward, spear arcing toward you. You yelp, raising your sword up to block her spear. They slam together.

“You’ll do fine,” she smiles, so smug in a way that makes you want to slap her and kiss her all at once.

“Whatever,” you mumble as she pulls back.

But you feel a little more confident with her praise, launching a surprise attack. She seems a little shocked, but she blocks it, probably a bit closer than normal.

“Feisty,” she murmurs.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

She launches her own attack, more force behind it this time, and it’s harder to stop her, but you do, you push her back.

“It means you’re exactly like I thought you were.”

You frown, because what is she even saying, but she launches another attack, smiling brightly as you block it, her eyes never leaving your form.

It’s a blurry of your heartbeat in your ears, her smile, the clash of her spear and your sword, the rest of the field coming to life with the sound of metal on metal, wins and losses.

Your arm is growing heavy.

But you keep your eyes open, blocking her attacks and waiting for an opening you’re not sure will ever come.

Finally, she reveals her side, and you swing, your sword clanging as it hits her metal armor.

She looks down at your sword and then you.

When she looks up again, it’s never the same.

—-

“Did you let me win that first day?”

You’re in the woods with her, so many months after that first day, and it all still feels like it was yesterday. You’re laying on a blanket on the soft grass, facing each other, limbs tangled together and her arm around you.

“Hm?” she says, slightly sleepy.

“When we sparred?”

“Oh,” she smiles, yawns. “Yeah, I let you win.”

You gasp and hit her arm.

“Clar, that’s, like, horrible. Our relationship was built on lies.”

You’re the only person allowed to call her that.

She frowns. “It wasn’t. What are you talking about?”

“I was gloating over you for months, and you let me-”

“Okay, but, you still won. I just helped you a bit. That’s what a good girlfriend should do.”

“You were not my girlfriend then.”

“Yeah, but you wanted me to be. For how long? Four years?”

You roll yours eyes. “You bumped into me once and then became obsessed with me.”

She smiles against you as she kisses your forehead.

“Who wouldn’t?” she snorts. “Not my fault you bumped into me in a way no one else ever has, angel.”

“My love language is just bumping into people, I think.”

“Then you can’t bump into anybody but me. Or else I’d kill them, probably.”

“A true romantic.”

She wraps her arms around you, muscles flexing as she pulls you on top of her.

“Only for you, angel,” she says, eyes falling closed again. “‘M cold, be my blanket.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be all rough and tough?”

“Can’t be with you,” she yawns. “Love you too much. Now shush. I’m gonna fall asleep.”

“You big baby,” you mumble. “Big bad Clarisse needs to fall asleep with her girlfriend and get her full eight hours or else she’ll go on a rampage.”

“Damn right.”

Clarisse is the type of pretty that just makes you wanna fade into her. And you do, in the light of the rising moon, the light of the fading sun. You fade into her.

—-

y/n when clarisse helps her on her first day: wow, an angel 😍😍

clarisse when y/n bumps into her: wow, an angel 😍😍

ALSO CLARISSE CALLING Y/N ANGEL???? I THINK I’VE FOUND MY NEW OBSESSION Y’ALL

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

991 notes · View notes

catgirlforeskin · 1 year

Text

Since Wizards of the Coast is torpedoing all the good-will they have with DnD to wring more money out of it, I want to make a guide for people who recognize they should jump ship, but don’t know alternatives.

If you’re deeply invested in DnD and want something as similar as possible, Pathfinder 2 is what you want. It’s the next biggest game in the tabletop scene (in the US), you can find physical copies in stores easily, and Paizo allows free resources online to exist without constant threat of being taken down like WotC does. It will remain free to play on any VTT while DnD will require you to subscribe to their proprietary one.

Most importantly, though, it improves on almost every aspect of DnD. Combat and class balance is extremely well thought out and makes all combats engaging and difficult in a fun way, requiring teamwork and clever thinking. Roleplay is integrated into character creation and play better, and you no longer have to choose between being good in combat or exploration or roleplay, you get to play and feel useful during all aspects of the game. It’s hard to emphasize how much better it is without just playing, if you still want something like DnD, play Pathfinder 2.

If you like high fantasy adventuring but are willing to get more out there, Fellowship and Dungeon World are good options. Fellowship is a more free-form adventure game focused on creating a cinematic experience over getting bogged-down in rules-heavy play. If you want to play a Lord of the Rings style campaign and have it feel like the movies, Fellowship is the way to go.

Dungeon World is called “Powered by the Apocalypse” which means it was inspired by Apocalypse World, an amazing ttrpg that revolutionized the scene and became the gold standard for interweaving roleplay and gameplay. Dungeon World is meant to be a bridge between DnD and indie rpgs, and it’s good for that, though there are better PbtA games. It’s a good introduction to principles like failing forward and playing to find out what happens (and hell, a good introduction to games having principles lol). There’s also an Avatar the Last Airbender licensed PbtA game that’s very good, if that’s your thing!

Speaking of licensed games, Free League Publishing sets the benchmark for rpgs built for existing intellectual properties, and while I haven’t played all of their games, I’m a big fan of what I have played. They also have independent settings, like Twilight 2000, a really good apocalypse survival game set in a collapsing warfront between an alternate-history NATO and Soviet Union as the two dying empires bring all of society down in their death spiral. I’m using it as the base for my Halo rpg, it’s very good.

Blades in the Dark is another big name in the indie scene, and for good reason. It’s a heist game that has been adapted to lots of other settings (games that say they’re “Forged in the Dark” take inspiration here) and it’s clear to see why so many have used it as a foundation once you’ve played, it’s an exciting crime procedural where you play a group of scoundrels punching above your weight and facing the consequences

There’s a million other amazing rpgs I could mention here, and I’m sure people will talk about plenty of lovely ones I’ve missed in the notes, but I think the most important thing I want to convey with this is that there’s a whole world of diverse and interesting rpgs at all levels of production, from big corporate teams to one girl with a laptop who barely knows how to make a pdf, and there’s no better time to start exploring them.

A common refrain is that DnD can be modified to do anything, but once you’ve played other rpgs you’ll see why that’s not true, and why those creative efforts would be better spent in other systems. Hacking rpgs is as old a tradition as rpgs themselves, but if the only tools you know are DnD, you’re being limited with what you can create more than you could possibly know. There’s no better time to leave this Plato’s Cave and see the beauty and wonder of the whole ttrpg scene

#DnD #ttrpgs #ATLA

1K notes · View notes

mstormcloud · 4 months

Text

SONIC OC!!! And Espilver fankid hehe!! People on insta helped me name her Mirai and she’s a marten! (She/her, though Espio and silver use “they” until they learn her preferred pronouns)

(The formatting on the comic part is a little scuffed it reads top left, bottom left, top center, bottom center, top right, bottom right. Sorry about that whoops)

Under the cut I’m gonna give her full lore dump which includes my headcanon on how Silvers time travel works but trust me you don’t need to read it all.

The TLDR is that Silver found her in a ruined future and in exchange for allowing her to exist outside timelines much like himself she now has time-bending powers (kinda!) She can adjust the time of any object (for example turning water into steam by sending it to its future where it evaporates.)

Ok so let’s start with Silvers time travel cuz it is actually relevant. The way I headcannon it working kinda combines all the ways we’ve seen it in canon.

I’m not gonna address 06 cause it didn’t happen in this timeline and also the method of time travel is similar to the own used in Rivals 1: using the power of the master or chaos emeralds.

So first off I headcanon that Silver being sent back to the past in rivals 1 was actually somewhat of an accident. He was on Onyx island when it was sent back. And then between Eggman Nega admitting he used the master emerald and (I have a rivals rewrite when this happens but that’s a post for another day oops) Shadow teaching Silver about the Chaos emeralds and how to harness their energy - Silver realizes he can use this power himself to send himself back in time Again but this time to stop the Ifirit from ever growing strong and therefore saving his future.

Doing this caused two things: one, now Silver himself was a living paradox where he both exists but can’t exist at once, and two: the timestones became aware of his determination to protect the world throughout all of time. The timestones then blessed Silver with the ability to exist outside the timelines and now he’s the only Silver throughout all time, but in return he now has the duty to Always save the future from destruction. The portals that appear to being Silver to the past or future when he’s needed is created by the timestones.

Now, to Mirai. Silver found Mirai in one of many ruined futures he had been called to prevent, and despite knowing that bringing anyone from the future back to the past could inadvertently cause a paradox (like he himself almost did) he knew he couldn’t just leave the child alone in a ruined future. They’d die. So he brings the child to the timestones and begs them to allow Mirai to be capable of existing outside time similar to himself so he could bring her home and she could live safely. The timestones really like Silver so they agree but also make it clear this cannot happen again.

When the time stones bless Mirai they also give her the ability to control the time of objects. She can turn water into steam, re-form broken relics, manipulates clay where she can create different weapons by sending the clay into alternate “futures” - one as a sword, one as a scythe, etc.

While this power can be very useful it’s also somewhat unreliable, so she also had Espio train her in Ninjitsu and with certain weapons.

I’m undecided on if I want her connection to the timestones mean that like Silver she has to go through the portals when they open. I think it would be interesting but idk if I can handle that level of angst oops

If you read this all thank you!!

#sonic oc #my art #mstormcloud #mirai the marten #espilver #sonic fankid #sth #silver the hedgehog #espio the chameleon #sonic #I’ve been concidering giving her a sibling as well lmao #tho unlike Mirai this one is found at Espios job #like ace attorney style adopting a child after solving a crime #but I haven’t decided yet…

73 notes · View notes

romancingromanoff · 9 months

Text

Secrets & Sketches

Andromache the Scythian x f!reader

I decided to create a series of loosely related one shots for Andromache (my beloved). Here’s part 1 and part 2

Summary: You were always staring at her, not knowing she was staring back.

TW: None?

Word count: +5,100

Author's Note: Hi y'all. Here's some slightly domestic fluff before the action happens and the stakes skyrocket through the roof.

Despite never having lived with four strangers before, it turned out that your new situation offered you far more privacy than you had ever experienced while living with your mother.

The woman had a compulsive need to control every aspect of your life, from what you wore to what you ate. You were barely even safe in the bathroom. The years had taught you to lie with your words and carefully crafted smiles. Knowing what she wanted to hear from you and how you could appease her temper was like mastering a second language. Your skills in the craft became more and more refined throughout the years and your confidence ultimately grew. But you underestimated your mother and made the greatest mistake of them all.

“I know you’re lying to me! What are you trying to hide from me, you ungrateful whore?”

A picture frame nearly collided with your head, chipping the door frame instead of scratching your face. The glass shattered on the floor and your body jumped twice, once at the sound and another time when your eyes settled on the damage and found that your favorite childhood photo with your grandmother was destroyed.

“Whatever you did, I will find out! You cannot lie to me, I am your mother!”

It was one afternoon you had wanted all to yourself to go see the movie Roman Holiday after school. The charismatic Audrey Hepburn, riding on a Vespa with the largest smile you had ever seen, caused strange feelings to stir in your stomach when you had first watched the trailer. She was a princess masquerading as a commoner in order to freely experience the wonders of the Eternal City. Oh, how you envied her character. Your mother, however, could only focus on how short her hair was. The shortest your hair had ever been was when you were a fresh newborn. Once it grew past your upper back, you were never allowed to cut it, despite all the other girls you knew being able to short styles.

“How disappointing.” She scoffed when a clip of her getting her haircut played. “Such a beautiful young woman and she wants to make herself look like a man? I really don’t understand your generation, you’re all confused.”

When you arrived home late that evening, she refused to believe the lie you had produced about giving some tutoring lessons after school. It was only two days later that she found the proof she wanted. While snooping through your journal she came across the movie ticket you had pasted next to your latest entry. She burned the entire thing as only one portion of your punishment.

How your mother could predict your actions, anticipate your every move, and see through every single one of your lies you did not know. It was like she knew you and how your mind functioned but could never truly understand how suffocated you felt by the twisted ways she expressed her “love” for you. She was your mother, the closest kin you had left after your grandmother’s passing and the woman that had known you for your entire existence. The fact that she birthed you was one she’d never let you forget, yet you knew she would spend your entire life trying to mold you into something you weren’t if she could. If she could never accept you then how could anybody else?

Then you met Andy, who always seemed to be in tune with whatever you were thinking. Hell, she could practically guess your thoughts word for word without even really trying, yet not once did it ever feel like she was violating your mind as your mother had. You were almost completely certain that she was fully aware of the times when you were drawing her. It was impossible not to see the art in her movements. She’d be doing something mundane yet slightly active such as washing the dishes and you’d pull your sketchbook out. The moment you put pencil to paper she would slow down ever-so-slightly. A plate that needed maybe two wipes suddenly took four or more to clean. She must have known what she was doing to you, softly smirking as she folded laundry

But did she know what it was doing to you? How intensely you felt about her and as more than just an art subject, more than someone you merely admired. Pages full of sketches, varying in detail and design, became dedicated to capturing the alluring domestic side of the ancient warrior. Every angle, every shadow was carefully reconstructed (to the best of your ability anyway) as if to preserve each moment and time so that your eyes may never forget what she looked like chopping onions on a rainy Tuesday evening. A brief moment that might be incredibly insignificant for a being that has walked the earth for thousands of years, but one that was still so precious to you. The time you spent together, even the moments everyone else might consider to be dull, were filled with color all because of her.

Why she allowed you to draw her so frequently was something you couldn’t quite figure out. This rather untraditional dance the two of you engaged in was never spoken about in words. There was no doubt that Andy would have said something much earlier had she been uncomfortable being drawn by you. A part of you enjoyed entertaining the idea that, perhaps in some small way, Andy might actually return your feelings. But at the same time, you didn’t want to be wrong and come off as an artistic creep trying to invade her privacy.

The good thing was you never had to worry about any of the others looking through your sketchbook. The one time Joe had asked if he could take a peek it hadn’t even crossed your mind that you could have said ‘no’ to him. But the smallest bit of hesitance that he had seen in your eyes as you prepared to hand over your most personal and sacred treasure immediately stopped him.

“Y/N, you don’t actually have to show me anything if you don’t want to. I was merely curious but no part of me would be offended if you want to keep your art to yourself. I will always respect your privacy first.”

His words were almost foreign to you, like ones you had only ever read on pages and later discovered were pronounced completely differently when you finally heard them spoken out loud. Still, you knew Joe meant everything he said. Though all of your new companions were certainly capable of it, none of them had ever once tried to deceive you or keep you hidden from the truth. Previously living with a pathological liar had taught you all the signs you needed to know and not once had you found a single one since joining the old guard.

It was a bit startling how safe you already felt with these few strangers you had only met a few short weeks ago. You could talk to all of them about (almost) anything, although you did worry that your endless amount of questions might annoy any one of the unnaturally older beings. Sometimes you nearly cringed at the thought of how ignorant and stupid you must have appeared in their eyes. It mostly motivated you to contribute where you could. Cooking and cleaning were not tasks you necessarily enjoyed, but it felt nice to make some type of contribution to the team. Still, you longed to prove yourself as something more, to help save lives and make Andy, Booker, Joe, and Nico proud. And maybe, just maybe, if you became worthy enough of someone like your rescuer, she might look at you differently.

┊ ┊┊

It was nearing morning hours and your endless thoughts hadn’t allowed you to sleep yet. There was a buzzing in your body, making it impossible to fully relax, even though you knew you had a busy day of training ahead of you and you needed the rest. You tried to conjure up the comforting sound of Andy’s steady heartbeat as you imagined her lying next to you, only to grow even more anxious when you began feeling guilty for indulging in such thoughts.

Did she even like women the way you did? You certainly had your suspicions and noticed the way her heart seemed to break anytime there was a mention of Quynh. The necklace that never left her neck also appeared to hold a great amount of pain and significance to her. But even if you were right, Andy had never brought up any details regarding her love life and you were determined to respect that undiscussed boundary. The tossing and turning was just an unfortunate side effect that eventually had you cave in and get up to grab a drink from the kitchen.

“Can’t sleep?” The voice of the very person you had been thinking of came from behind you as soon as you had turned on a small lamp. You let out a nervous laugh and kept a steady hand on your chest when you caught her smiling directly at you. It made you take some extra time while getting your glass of water so that your heartbeat had a chance to settle.

Andy sat at the bar sipping on a mug of coffee. Even with the light being so dim, you didn’t need it to tell her beverage was completely black.

“I still don’t know how you’re able to drink that. Every time I try it it’s like trying to swallow hot liquid dirt.”

“Really?” The Scythian chuckled and you prayed the darkness would hide your melted expression. “That’s surprising considering how you drown yours in milk and sugar.”

“Hey, we can’t all be as tough as you.”

“No one said you had to be. No one said you weren’t already.” You supposed you were tough in the context of being able to override death itself, but besides that, it wasn’t a character trait you ever considered yourself to have. Even the immortality thing was basically a fluke.

The dark haired woman gestured for you to sit down and you awkwardly lowered yourself into the chair across from her. Your glass of water looked silly standing next to her more refined drink. “Yeah, that’s me. I got tough hands covered in paper cuts and callouses from drawing.”

“Art is tough for a lot of people. It’s tough for me. I could never quite get the emotional vulnerability part down and I feel like all the best art pulls from that. I would say you could probably teach me a thing or two about drawing but you have something more inborn than that. It can’t be taught.”

“But you’ve never seen my work?” Had she? You didn’t think she’d go through your things without your permission but there was definiteness in her tone that told you her words were true.

“No,” she shrugged. Nothing in her seemed to waver. “I don’t need to. There’s this look you get in your eyes when you’re completely focused on drawing that seems to transport you to this different world. I always wonder where you go but don’t want to tear you away when you’re clearly inspired.”

You had been staring at her for so long believing that she was merely tolerating your strange behavior. You assumed she simply felt unbothered. The idea that she might have been secretly staring back never once crossed your mind.

“You… You watch me?” A beat passed and your brain short circuited, unsure of what kind of answer you even hoped to hear. If she did then was it with the same unspoken desire you held in your heart that you could be worthy of her one day? No, it had to be something far from that. Your awkward, uncoordinated behavior could only be considered entertaining at best if Andy didn’t find you pitiable. You imagined it was like watching your neighbor’s beagle after they arrived home from a medical procedure at the vet. The poor thing was so loopy yet unaware that he couldn’t walk in a straight line. Every few steps he took he’d also crumble to the floor before eagerly trying to get back up and making another attempt with the same results. That’s what she must see whenever she saw you trip over your own feet. Or how silly you looked the other day when Booker tried to show you how to hold a pistol and you shook so hard that it fumbled out of your hands.

Even with all the time in the world, it was a struggle to see yourself ever truly earning your place among the rest of the guard one day. You not only lacked combat experience but had been thoroughly sheltered from the world by your mother. She hadn’t allowed you to participate in any sports, not even the more feminine ones like dance or golf. The result was barely being able to do a push-up and having the wind knocked out of your lungs after only a brief jog.

The others had started you off with some basic self defense techniques, which caused you to wake up with sore muscles you hadn’t even known existed. Everyone was extremely patient with you, stressing the importance of slowly building up your strength and reminding you that there was no rush to suddenly reach their skill level when they’d been fighting for longer than some of the strongest empires had lasted. But then you’d watch them training together or listen to one of them recount several of the missions they completed while you were stuck waiting in the safe house. They were out there saving lives, as well as literally sacrificing their own, while you could only hope to one day do the same.

In the back of your head you could hear your mother berating you for having such ridiculous dreams. If she could see you struggling to learn a pull up she would certainly laugh at your miserable attempts. But Andy didn’t look at you like you were “perfectly pathetic” as your mother often described. No, she seemed to stare at you softly, which made you feel like you were the only person she was thinking about.

“I find you interesting. More specifically, it’s been a pleasure to watch you grow into yourself these past few weeks. You look much more relaxed.”

You were fairly relaxed, aside from the fact that your heart was currently threatening to jump out of your chest. Or if physicists could somehow harness its energy then it could power the entire world. She had just admitted to finding you interesting and you were supposed to answer back in words. You took a painfully slow drink.

“Well, it has been nice being able to make my own decisions and not have someone constantly looking over my shoulder.” You think back to an instance where you were recently baking a lemon glaze cake for the team and some icing stuck to your fingers. Immediately, you went to wash your hands as your mother would have insisted upon when it occurred to you that she no longer had control over you. Licking your fingers after that had never felt so satisfying. “Even the little choices I’m able to make now are kind of exciting. Is that strange to say?”

“Not at all.” Andy shook her head. “It’s a beautiful thing, seeing how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time. Not to mention how glad I am that you feel safe enough around us to be yourself.”

A pang of guilt ran through you. What must she think of you if you were keeping cryptic drawings of her a secret? “I really do, which is why I don’t want you to believe I’m trying to hide things from you! Not forever, at least. I trust you, and perhaps it’s more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else. But with my drawings… I suppose it’s rather complicated and I’ve never willingly shown them to anyone before. They’re nothing inappropriate, though! I would never do anything like that.”

Before you could completely melt into a puddle of despair, Andy reached for your forearm, anchoring the two of you together while helping to calm you down. Her hand was warmed from holding her hot mug.

“Hey, it’s alright, I trust you too. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I’m flattered about the drawings and it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can wait until you’re ready to show them to me when you feel comfortable doing so.”

It was completely vexatious how patient Andy could be with you, or how she always seemed to know the right thing to say to make you feel better. She possessed the ability to soothe the fears you understood intimately along with the others which you had tried to suppress and nearly forgotten about. You simply weren’t used to being treated in such a way.

“How are you so patient with me all the time?” Your question came off more irritated than you intended, making you cringe inwardly. You weren’t even sure what you were really asking about.

In the few moments it took Andy to start processing the question, your thoughts finally began to come together and spill out all at once.

“I’m deeply appreciative of how understanding you’ve been, don’t get me wrong, but when I imagine myself in your position, it must be frustrating. You do so much for me, all four of you do, but you especially. I’m always needing your help with countless things even though I have nothing of use to offer in return. You’re all incredibly worldly people, capable of doing more than I ever have even before your first deaths. I’ve been kept sheltered my entire life and probably wouldn’t last a day on my own. Having me join the team probably feels a lot more like babysitting than anything else, yet you never complain about it.”

Even though you knew it wasn’t in her nature, sometimes you wished she would allow herself to be angry with you. Or if she even expressed the slightest bit of irritation then that might make you feel better somehow. You waited for Andy to tell you that you sounded ridiculous, or to make another comment about your tendency to overthink things. Nothing like that ever came.

In one swift, breathtaking movement, her hand carefully tilted your chin up towards her face so that you were caught in her stare. The skin of her thumb was rough and her green-blue eyes bore into your own, tender yet determined as they searched for something deep in your soul. Though her touch was completely innocent, it was also intensely intimate from your perspective at least. You wanted to bear your entire being to her, consciously preparing your mind and body to take in whatever words she was about to say.

“Y/N, listen to me. There is nothing you owe me. Relationships aren’t transactional and I enjoy being able to help you. You also didn’t choose this life and I can’t hold what you don’t know against you. I won’t lie and say patience comes to me easily. Truthfully, when you get to my age everything is frustrating. I’ve seen… far too much in my life aside from any type of explanation for it all and it has made me bitter. But you don’t deserve any of that and I don’t want to be that type of person anymore. I don’t ever want to turn my back on people I care about again.”

Her eyes glossed over with the hue of a haunting memory, something from her past clearly bothering her. She let go of you in the crest of the emotion and you nearly whimpered when you lost her touch, but found the rare opportunity to offer Andy the comfort she needed.

“I may not know much in the grand scheme of things, but I know you’re not bitter. Truly bitter people try to tear down everyone around them because there’s nothing misery loves more than company. You’re nothing like my mother, she wanted to control me and keep me trapped in a life where I could never have my own happiness. You set me free. Anyway, it would be hard to live as long as you have, see the things that you’ve seen, and not become discouraged with all of the wickedness that has happened throughout history. What matters is that you’ve continued to fight for others that wouldn’t normally stand a chance on their own. If you were actually as bitter as you think, you could turn your back on everyone without a single care in the world. I see how much you care for others, Andy. Bitter people only care about themselves and I don’t see how you can believe you’re one of them.”

The fact that you were so young was partially why Andy felt the need to hold herself back and take things slow with you. Although your life would never be normal, she wanted to give you the chance to choose your own path and chase whatever dreams you fancied. Right now, it was crucial to prepare you for the world and to teach you how to keep your shared secret safe. But she knew you’d want to adventure out on your own at some point, and that you’d probably want to experiment with other partners closer to your age. Andy was aware of the baggage she carried, as well as the fact that the nature of your relationship meant she held a type of influence over you. She would never allow herself to take advantage of you like that.

But one thing she couldn’t let you do was downplay yourself, not when your words touched her in ways she hadn’t felt in thousands of years.

“Do you really believe you’re of no use at all and have nothing to offer? Y/N, I’ve traveled to every corner of the world and met the wisest individuals that still led directionless and unfulfilled lives. They thought of themselves too highly, pushed others away, and in the end their knowledge meant nothing when they were unable to make meaningful connections. You have all the time you need to perfect your knowledge and learn every skill that exists or will develop in the future.”

Your head tilted in perplexity.

“What? You think we had phones or electricity back when I was growing up? I didn’t learn how to drive a car until late last century. It was really like the blind leading the blind in those early days.”

Imagining a Victorian era Andy accidentally crashing a motorized carriage or angrily shaking her fist at experimental drivers from atop of her horse was certainly entertaining. You wondered if the two of you would ever share a similar experience together.

Temporarily distracted by your smile, Andy nearly forgot the importance of the message she was trying to convey to you.

“Y/N, you’re right that you’ve never really been given the chance to grow before all of this. None of that was your fault. The wonderful thing now is that you’re on your way to becoming smarter, like anybody else can when given the right tools. What you already have, your emotional strength and intelligence, is far more rare and valuable in my eyes. You teach me to look at things from a different perspective even when I’ve felt stuck in my ways for hundreds of years. Don’t overlook how much of an impact you can make or how much we all appreciate you.”

“Andy… I… Thank you.” You try not to cry, though you know she wouldn’t judge you if you did. Viewing your emotions as a strength is something that you never considered before. They were always a weakness back when you experienced nothing but misery, and now everything couldn’t be more different. Your new life was full of evenings spent getting tipsy and laughing at the stories your friends told you of places and times that sounded unreal. It was wanting the taste of more, the promise of the adventures that lay before you and the people you would get to share them with. It was a life you could hardly believe was real and you got to spend every single day with a woman that made your heart race with a single smile. Even if she never felt the same way about you, there was no chance that you’d trade your time with Andy for anything or anyone else. “Thank you for everything. I’m glad I get to experience all of this with you.”

She almost let her resolve crumble upon hearing your words. The grip around her drink tightened, heating up her flesh to a tender sting but she persevered through it. She knew that if she touched you again then it would all be over. There would be no way she could let go.

“As exciting as everything can be, I can’t help but feel nervous for what’s to come. I worry that no matter how hard I train I won’t be prepared. No matter how much I learn, there is bound to be something I overlook.”

How right you were.

“One thing I can tell you is that there are some things you’re never ready for, even if you spend centuries preparing. People, history, and almost everything I’ve encountered follow some type of pattern maybe 99% of the time. But all it takes is that 1% chance of randomness to make life unpredictable. Even the most meticulous of plans can end up going sideways. At the end of the day, I always ask myself why I’m here or why certain things happen and I’ve never been very close to an answer. There are questions I’ve carried with me for even longer than I can remember.”

It would have been quite terrifying to hear those words from anyone else besides Andy. If she still struggled to figure things out then you were practically cursed to be clueless for the rest of your existence. Although strangely enough, it was actually comforting to hear that she shared a similar sense of existential questioning. Both of you were human even if your lifespans or biology no longer were.

“Okay, but you must have a guess for when we’ll see flying cars at least. Or do you believe people will really be able to walk on Mars one day?”

A smooth attempt to cover up her broadening smile by lifting her coffee up to her mouth might have gone unnoticed if you hadn’t been so enamored by each one of Andy’s actions. She had a harder time hiding her eyes, which playfully rolled at your question.

“Sure, I suppose it’s possible. Hey, maybe you’ll be the first one and you can tell us all about it.”

“While the prospect of accomplishing something you’ve never done is intriguing, I wouldn’t want to do it without you.”

The words left your mouth, leaving only your pair of eyes holding hers throughout a deep silence. It wasn’t often that Andy looked like she was at a loss for words but this was definitely one of those times.

Quickly, you tried to cover up your confession with a stupid excuse. “I mean if there really are man-eating martians up there they’ll want to eat you first. You have way more muscle.”

“Right,” Andy laughed in agreement. “I guess that’s all I’m good for besides being a model for your artwork. Are you fast enough to draw me up there in time before I get turned into alien food?”

“Maybe.” You blushed and tried to go for Andy’s move to cover your face with your cup, only to realize that it was practically useless when it was made of glass.

“I, uh, really wanted to get some sleep tonight before waking up for early training but I guess I’m not doing a very good job at that.”

“Sleep in, you deserve the break. You’ve been pushing yourself really hard and should get to sleep in for once. There’s no need to overexert yourself.”

“Wait, aren’t you leaving for your mission around sunrise?” Andy was planning to look for some intel in the city and you knew she might be gone for up to a few days. “Wake me up before you go so I can say goodbye.”

For a moment, all the Scythian can do is try to memorize the look on your face, wishing that she could permanently sketch the vision on paper like you could. You gazed up at her with such innocence and devotion in your eyes, as if she was simply running to get milk from the grocery store the next morning. The team had actually glossed over the more important details about Andy’s assignment and what it would entail. It wasn’t that you were unaware of Andy’s brutal past and countless killings, but you still had yet to witness such violence. She couldn’t help but worry that witnessing that side of her would not only change how you saw her, but also influence your own self perception when the time came to take another life yourself. It was painful to imagine the countless amount of years you might spend plagued by inner turmoil, hating the person you would become even if it was inevitable. She’d die in a million more excruciating ways if it would shield you from such a curse.

“Andy, are you alright?” Your voice of concern brought her back to the present. There was a slight look of worry between your furrowed eyebrows that she wished to smooth out herself, but she practiced self restraint.

“Sorry, I guess I’m a little tired too. If you want me to wake you before I leave then I will.”

With a satisfied smile on your face, you nodded and rose from your seat. The urge to ask Andy if she might join you tugged at your heart. You always slept more soundly when it was in her arms. Your nightmares were much more infrequent by now and it had been some time since you had been able to fall asleep while breathing in her scent, snuggling deep into her chest. The temptation to voice your request was almost impossible to resist, save for the fear of jeopardizing your friendship and making her uncomfortable by revealing your feelings.

Eventually, you found yourself back in bed alone and replaying your conversation. One specific realization you couldn’t get over was that Andy had undoubtedly expressed some type of interest in the art you made of her. Sure, it’s possible that it might have been in a completely platonic sense, but you held onto the fantasy of it meaning something more and decided you’d keep it to yourself, for now.

#Andromache the Scythian x reader #andromache x reader #Andromache the scythian #the old guard #joe x nicky #booker #yusuf x nicolo #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #sebastien le livre #andy the scythian x reader #andromache the scythian x reader #immortal lesbians #Charlize Theron character

131 notes · View notes

lizhrs · 2 years

Text

might seduce your dad type -

warnings: smut/nsfw, cunnilingus, slight dacryphilia, fingering, choking, degradation/dirty talk, breeding kink, toxic relationship, angst

summary: sick of toji acting as if you don’t exist, you travel back to your hometown to give him a piece of your mind. it doesn’t go well. (wc: 3844)

"it really isn't a big..." you trail off, leaning your head back on the sofa.

you try and keep your tone steady, nonchalantly staring at your bloodied finger. it's just a tiny cut that can be fixed with some paper and water but megumi is acting as if you cut a giant gash through your palm. he frantically puts his sweater on, shaking his head as he grabs his keys. "it's fine, i was just going to buy some ice for the party tonight. i'll grab the bandaids on the way."

"party?"

"why else would i come back home for spring break if it wasn't to throw raves?" he mutters as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"i don't know...to spend time with family?" you bite on your bottom lip.

"you're not spreading it with family."

"yeah, but—" you cut yourself off, what do you even say to that? the reason you decided to not go home for break after months of not seeing your family was because you wanted to talk to his jerk of a father after he ghosted you? it's certainly a great way to lose a friend, if anything. "isn't your father coming?"

you two arrived to his place yesterday night and so far, no sign of him. megumi shakes his head, "he's probably lounging at some bar, who cares?" he groans. "i'll be back soon, don't injure yourself even more." he chuckles before stepping out.

you finally allow yourself to let out a frustrated groan as you throw your body on the sofa. you did not travel over a thousand miles to not even talk to him once. you let a couple minutes pass before getting up and walking towards the kitchen, turning on the faucet and putting your finger under it.

you should feel guilty you traveled with your friend under false pretenses of you simply wanted to spend time with him after weeks of brain crushing exams when in reality, you just wanted to piss off his annoyingly attractive father who you just want to plummet into the ground for being such a dickwad. but, you don't. at least you don't think you do.

you needed to do this. it's been months of being ghosted and you're tired of thinking you did something wrong when you tried so hard to do everything right.

it's not you.

it's him and his inability to commit to anything. and you'll be sure to tell him that when he gets here, you'll give him a piece of your mind and tell him how much of a bastard he is—why he thinks he has the nerve to—

you gasp as you feel something pressing up behind you, more precisely someone's chest. it's definitely not megumi. he would rather die out of embarrassment than feel you up like this. no it's definitely not him. you gulp, trying to settle the hammering of your heart.

"now what are you doing here?" he says right by your ear. his voice sounds soft, almost tender but you know better.

"it's spring break." it's hard to sound like you could care less about the situation right now when you can feel every damn muscle and ab pressing against your body.

"that still doesn't explain why you're here." he then laughs. "did you come just for me?"

you scoff, about to push him off but he only tightens his hold. you were seconds away from elbowing him when he decides to snake his hand up your thigh. of course, you haven't seen each other in months and the first thing he wants to do is act like a damn pervert. you should be pushing him off and you know—giving him a piece of your mind. that's what you came here for but dammit...

it's hard. it's a very hard thing to do when he drags you closer, teeth grazing your neck.

"get off of me." you sigh, voice having absolutely no edge.

"didn't you miss me?"

"i didn't even think you remembered i existed." you mutter bitterly, those words finally creating a bit of anger inside of you. "how could i possibly miss someone who acted as if i was an insignificant little ant?"

he laughs again, more genuine. you fight the blush threatening to come up even though he can't see you. he finds this funny? of course he does. what'd you expect from someone like him? "are you really sad i didn't text you like some lovesick teenager?" he places his hands on your waist, quickly spinning you around so now you’re both face to face.

you refrain from gulping at the sight of him. of course he still looks perfectly handsome. you expected for him to at least look a bit disheveled at seeing you after a while. "it's not just texting." you grit through your teeth. "you're really acting like you didn't booty call me every single night until i left?"

he doesn't even seem like he's listening to you, fingers traveling up to your chin then mouth, pulling your bottom lip down before inserting one finger in. you immediately suckle on them, the shame coursing through you. you guess your body responds to his touches a little too well, even after everything.

"that was months ago. it's not like we were ever together. besides, i didn't want people treating me like some predator. you don't think our age gap is a bit unorthodox?" he could care less about the age difference, it's all over his face.

"we're both legal adults—"

"no, no. suck." he shushes you, his finger back on your tongue. "we both know why you're here, in that pretty little dress so why don't we skip the talking and cut to it?"

you should say no. you had a whole damn speech prepared, one almost guaranteed to make him hurt. you should say no. c'mon, say no. but then he pushes his finger even deeper, almost choking you with the action and fuck, the arousal swirls in your lower region.

"is that a yes?"

you glare at him, fucking asshole. you nod just before he inserts another finger, both traveling deeper until you're gagging, spit gathering in the corner of your lips. "sta—staph!" you push his hand away. "m-megumi might come back any second, just..."

"just what?" he grins. "what do you want?"

"t-take..." your blush intensifies. "take me to the bedroom."

he chuckles, hands quickly going under your legs and picking you up as if your weight means nothing. and to him, it isn't. fuck, has he been working out? how does he look even more ripped? you don't know when you enter the bedroom but you do gasp when he throws you on the bed as if you're nothing and damn, you hate how that turns you on even more.

he yanks your ankle, pulling you down the bed so he can hover over you, lips instantly finding yours. you moan into the kiss without a second thought, fingers going to run through his hair. his tongue is hot, making sure to feel every inch and corner of your mouth before trailing the kisses down to your neck. he has a cheshire like grin on his face as he gets to your chest, not a care in the world as he rips the dress open, the buttons flying around.

you don't have the common sense right now to think about how you'll explain the ripped material to megumi when he gets back. or the love bites toji is sure to leave all over your body. you didn't think this through, too blinded by rage and lust.

you shriek as you feel his tongue lap into your cunt, not sure how the hell he got there so fast. "t-toji..." you whimper, eyes clenching tightly as he presses down on your clit. you can't help but move your hips, trying to get more of his thick tongue inside of you but he grips your legs and that's all the warning you need before stopping.

asshole.

"scream for me, princess. that's all you need to do." he mutters against your flesh, leaving little kisses on it before diving in again. "you taste delightful."

"s-shut up." you grit through your teeth, leaning up and glaring at him. "just shut up and make me feel good.”

"someone's mad." he stands up, hand going to his back pocket and taking out a small bottle of lube. of course he keeps that of all things on him at all times. "you're that hurt i didn't text back?" he snorts. "this is why i like to avoid getting into bed with young women. always so needy."

you bite the inside of your cheek, "i'm not needy." that's the only response you're able to get out without having tears gathering in your eyes.

"oh yes you are, princess." he doesn't give any warning before he's inserting two lubed up fingers into your pussy. you clench the bedsheets, biting down hard on your bottom lip to keep any sounds from coming out. he doesn't deserve to hear them.

"you've been needy ever since you came onto my balcony that night, in nothing but that oversized shirt. rambling on about a spider in your room." your walls spasm and tears pinch the corner of your eyes as he crooks his fingers. "a spider...really? that's the best you could come up with?"

"well, it achieved my goal didn't it?" you say through the moans. "had you under me not even ten minutes—ah! later."

"yeah you did, didn't you? you little slut." his other hand goes into his sweatpants and your mouth shamelessly waters at the sight of the veiny cock that slaps against his shirt. "pretending to be this little saint when you're here, begging to get screwed by a man twice your age."

"who says i'm begging?" you roll your eyes. he grabs your leg, pulling it over his shoulder as he leans down. you try and hold his gaze down but it's hard, you wonder how the hell one single look from him can be so intimidating.

"how many cocks have been in this little hole ever since you left?" he asks carelessly, changing the subject as his member aligns with said hole.

you stare at him, not sure which answer is acceptable. would he even care? you doubt it but he's a cocky and possessive man. he could feel absolutely nothing for you and still get jealous if you slept with someone else. that's the sense of entitlement this bastard has. he knows his power and exactly how to use it.

"none of your bu—fuck!" his cock starts to push in, the tightness trying to fight him but that only urges him to push deeper—until he pushes in one swift motion. you're used to him being rough, he's the damn definition of rough but this pace is enough to burn your insides and turn them into nothing. "d-deep, oh fuck. why are you so—" you're cut off by the feeling of his hand around your throat.

his grip is unmercifully tight, the pressure immediately causing you to choke and you would moan if you could because holy fuck— he's so hot. just manhandling you as if you're nothing, just a little cumrag for him to spill into. a fucktoy he can use whenever he wants to. the humiliation burns through cause you know you could care less about the dehumanizing way he treats you—at least in the bedroom. "fuck, y/n i want to hear your screams, not your little whimpering. understood?"

you nod, or at least try to and he takes his head away. you're only allowed a second to cough before he's thrusting in and out again, leaning down to latch at your nipple. you bite your lip, remembering how you 'forgot' to wear a bra this morning. you ignored the blush megumi had once he realized, not having it in you to feel self conscious. only toji was on your mind today. he's always on your mind, even when you don't want him to be. and most times you don't.

"gonna make you cum, then again and again until you're nothing but a sobbing mess." your pussy won't stop spasming around his cock, tears gathering in your lashes as his length travels even deeper. he's so big, you forgot just how big he was.

"w—we can't." you groan, voice croaking. "m-megumi is—" your body jolts as his pace increases, like the sole purpose of tonight is to ruin your insides.

all you could feel in the moment was how perfectly his cock dragged inside of you, how hot your insides felt, how this feeling felt so normal when it came to him. you always wanted this feeling with him. he grips your waist, diving in harder until you're arching off of the bed, head digging into the sheets. "t-oji!" you screech, high pitched and drawled out.

"are you going to cry for me, princess?" he laughs, the sound cutting through the air and making you feel even smaller. "c'mon, i wanna see it. let it out." he presses your forehands together, tongue lolling out to lick your cheeks.

he pulls out and the squelching sound of your cunt is enough to make you cry out before he's thrusting back in again. sweat is beading on your forehead and he grins at the sight, going to lick it and the stretch makes you whine. "t—too much." and yet you know you still crave even more.

but you know you can't have it, at least not tonight. not when megumi could be coming back any second.

"isn't that what you wanted? why you were whining like a little bitch cause i didn't contact you? why you came in this dress i bought you months ago? isn't it?"

you shake your head no and he apparently didn't like that answer as he presses his hand on it, digging your cheeks into the sheets. "don't deny it. we both know you're nothing but a needy whore when it comes to me. it's pathetic really. all those guys on that campus and still crawling back to me?" he scoffs.

that's not true. you want to say it's not but it's pointless, you're practically drooling into his sheets. you scream as his finger goes down to rub against your clit and it only takes a few seconds more before you're coming. your eyes squeeze shut as your legs shake, walls shuddering violently.

he pays no mind to that, hand going to your throat again as he pounds into you. the sounds bouncing off the walls, flesh colliding against flesh and you swear you could come again just at the sound of the headboard hitting the wall. you're going to be absolutely ruined after this round. "toji, h-hurts." you pant because it feels like he's about to tear you apart.

he only grins, "what? want me to stop? slow down?"

you both know you don't want that. he smirks at your silence. "you wanted to be fucked, didn't you? missed the feeling of my hands on you? my hands groping you—" he makes sure to grope your breast into his hands for emphasis, a guttural moan leaves your throat as he presses harshly onto your nipple.

"m-megumi's coming!" you cry out, tears falling down your cheeks. fuck, it's too much. hurts so good you could do this for hours.

he rolls his eyes, "i think we're gonna have to talk about the fact you can't stop mentioning my sons name when we're—"

"shut up!" you glare at the playful smirk on his face. unbelievable.

he only smiles more, but thankfully it doesn't take long for him to come, he makes sure to kiss you as he does. the feeling sloppy, causing spit to dribble down your chin. you grab his cheeks, deepening the kiss until you're all practically engulfing each others tastes. the hot liquid fills you up, over and over again until a drawled out moan escapes your lip which only adds to toji's ego.

you hold him tighter, having missed the way his cum drenched your insides. “you feel that?” his hot breath pants against your ear. “gonna fill you up nice, y/n.”

“fill me up.” you choke out, you wanted it all. you didn’t have to say it, he already knew. you wanted him spilling deep inside of you, breeding you until it was dripping down your thighs.

he buries in deep as he can, smirking like a mad man as you milk his cock, releasing even more in thick hot spurts. he leans his head in the crook of your neck as his cock starts to soften. “fuck.” he pants. “you’re on the pill right?”

“no.” your throat feels incredibly dry. “i came here tonight just to trap you with a pregnancy.” you mutter dully.

“ha-ha.” comes the sarcastic reply.

you can feel the sweat all over your body, it's been so long since you've felt so good. only having your toys to get you through the past few months because as the toji guessed earlier, no you haven't let anyone else touch you like this.

it's stupid. it's not like this is even a proper relationship yet you have a strong desire to be his and only his.

he stands up, licking his lips at your panting body on the bed. he's taking in the work he's done before he grabs your wrist, pulling you up so you're sitting. you wince at the feeling in your lower back. "you're filthy." he whispers. "how'd you allow me to ruin you so much, y/n?" he sounds almost amazed at his own handiwork.

"aren't i ruining you too?" you look at him, nibbling on the inside of your cheek at his heated gaze. "you can pretend you're not affected by any of this but we both know you are." you hate how your voice croaks at that, you can just imagine the bruises from his hands on your throat forming.

"am i now?" he scoffs. "i'm not the bruised and shaking one always coming back to beg for more. you are."

you clench your jaw. asshole. asshole. asshole. "you can always say no yet you always practically dive at the chance to have a taste of me." you force yourself to stand up, hands going up to clench the ripped section of your dress, hiding your breast with it.

"who am i to say no to a beautiful lady?"

"is that supposed to flatter me?" you sigh, irritation showing. "so, is that how you really feel dear old toji? this is just sex? nothing more, nothing less?"

"i never directly said that." he tilts his head but you can see behind the expression on his face, he's playing you. acting as if this actually has a chance to be anything more. but...you know there was something forming a few months ago. more than just nights of passionate fucking.

"you implied it." you clench your hands into fists.

"you're acting as if i forced you into this little arrangement. you seduced me, shamelessly at that knowing how i am yet you expect more?" he huffs carelessly. "that's what i get for getting with someone your age."

you're sick of the age difference he always throws around. you know he just uses it to rile you up but it still irritates you. he says it as if you're not a grown woman in college with soaring grades. you're perfectly capable of making your own decisions, controlling your emotions yet he acts like you're nothing but a deprived little pest.

“don’t pretend like you weren’t acting like some lovey dovey boyfriend wannabe a few months ago, but then everything changed when i asked you to meet some friends. and you ran away, like a coward.”

he rolls his eyes, walking over to his drawer and taking out a cigarette pack with that lighter you got him on some shopping whim. “why would i want to hang out with people decades younger than me?” he cups his hands to the flame, lighting the cig up before putting it to his lips and taking a long drag.

“because they’re my friends! and—”

“and nothing.” he finishes for you. “i don’t want to meet your friends nor do i want to go on dates or have boring friday night dinners with your parents. i don’t need you showing me off.” he exhales, the smoke swirling up in the air.

“i wasn’t trying to show you off! i was trying to—”

“that’s exactly what you were doing.” he leans against the drawer, staring at you like he’s got it all figured out. “always wanting to take selfies together, wanting to post me on your insta feed, staring at me with that damn look in your eyes. it’s obvious what your intention was from the start.”

“you’re that dense you can’t understand those are normal—”

“you wanted to show everyone what you had won. who you were shagging and how lucky you were compared to them. i get it, we all know i’m a hunk but people finding out i’m sleeping with a damn college student is the last thing on my bucket list.”

“you give yourself too much credit.” you take a step back, towards the door. this conversation is going nowhere. you weren’t trying to show him off. you just wanted a normal relationship but you should’ve known it was pointless. albeit, maybe a tiny part of the reason you wanted to sleep with him in the first place was because of his looks. because you knew telling the girls about it would have them envious but you didn’t even spill the details of that night to anyone. you knew it’d only make things awkward with megumi, possibly even ruin the friendship. no, definitely ruin it.

and you wouldn’t be surprised. you’re his best friend yet here you are, covered in hickeys and marks by his own father while he’s out there buying you a bandaid for a cut that’s already dried up. you don’t deserve him.

“do i?” he smirks. “anyways, this doesn’t need a label. the sex outsells any of that dull shit we would’ve gotten in a trapped relationship. don’t you think so?”

you clench your jaw, who does he think you are? after everything that’s happened tonight, as if you’ll ever go back into bed with him again. “whatever." you say, trying not to let your voice crack. "i don't need you." you go to walk out. take a quick shower and put some makeup on in the guest room megumi reserved for you before he comes back and throws that damn party. "i can have anyone i want."

"good to know, princess." he nods, walking to the doorway of his bathroom. "so, same time tomorrow?"

"in your dreams." you huff, storming out and walking into the guest room.

"in my dreams, indeed." you hear him call out before you slam the door.

asshole.

#jjk toji #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #toji fic #toji fanfic #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji angst #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #fushiguro megumi #megumi #i copied & pasted this so if there’s mistakes sorry😒 tumblr has me so annoyed #tumblr messed up & there’s huge spaces inbetween the paragraphs my apologizes

1K notes · View notes

symphonicmetal101 · 1 year

Text

Winter Wonderland

Taking the OM Characters on dates in winter

(Specifically the mild Canadian winter we’ve had up here thus far lmao)

Lucifer - Dogs still need walking right? It can take quite a bit to pry Lucifer from his work but if you offered to take Cerberus out, he would gladly give up his pen and paper for a while to spend time with you and watch his beloved pet enjoy the snow like a puppy again. The first major snowfall of the year can be one of the best times to get Lucifer alone and see his walls come down so he can be his best goofy ass self around you. Walking trails of freshly fallen snow quickly get patted down as Cerberus gallops down them with all the grace of a tornado, sometimes leaving you and Lucifer with faces full of snow. He’ll keep that in mind next time, and keep his wings out so he can block the brunt of the snow that flies up from Cerberus’ frolicking.

Mammon - HAHAHAAA MAKE HIM PLAY CRACK THE WHIP! I've only played it once but it was a blast. A rope is tied to a vehicle (in my case a golf cart) and knots are tied to create grips. Yjust sit in your sled and hold on to the rop for dear life as the vehicle moves. The farther back you are, the bigger the turn is. If you let go you loose fjdjxjdj but its so much fun. He might gripe about his arms hurting after but nothing a warm shower and snuggles cant fix.

Levi - This man....god, good luck getting him out of his room. BUT there is a cute date to be had yet. You guys can go out to one of the fabric stores, that way y’all can touch all the fabrics to figure out what textures you like the best- so that when you guys get home you can make scarves to keep each other warm. When Levi needs it during the colder months - in or out of his room- he’s almost always wearing the scarf you made for him. If it’s too warm to actually wear it, it becomes a comfort item of his, so he has it on him at all times anyways. But he can’t deny the fact that knowing you’re walking around with something functional, pretty, and made with love from him feels amazing- you’re his and he’s yours, in and out of sight of each other.

Satan - I love this nerdy little guy, I love him I really do, if the side characters didnt exist, this is my main bitch right here lmao. I’m a sucker for a cold snowy day being an excuse to cuddle up together, watch snow fall and drink hot chocolate, but I’m gonna try just...just a notch to the left of that lmao...maybe just a bit more and because I feel like I need more chaotic Satan in my life, we’re getting more chaotic Satan. The great thing about starting fires in winter is that the snow is your extinguisher- so long as you don’t use too much gasoline/oil to start it lmao. With that in mind, Satan will take you to buy all compressed gas/air products like hairspray and show you how to make a flamethrower out of them. and explain the science behind it while beaming like the sweetest guy in the world. But if that’s a little too intense, he’s happy to make a campfire and let you throw different products in to change the colour of the flames, and again, he will explain the science behind it all.

Asmodeus - He’s right up there with Satan lskjdhfkjdhskj I love him. Though he has the capability of being just as if not more chaotic than Satan, all I’m getting right now is making a hot chocolate bar for just the two of you in his room- reason being he already had to enchant his room to keep scents from escaping due to a Lip Gloss Shortage Via Being Eaten committed by a certain little brother. So his room is a safe zone for food and drink, and its the only drink he’ll allow in order to keep his room as clean and nice smelling as possible. But he loves going to shop for the different syrups, the whip cream, the sprinkles, the different chocolates, the different milks, even a mini fridge and the aesthetic containers to put everything into. You guys frequently sit in towels and face masks, just sipping at your own and each others hot chocolate....though if you get a little whipped cream on your lip, he’ll be taking care of that for you too ;)

Beelzebub - God I want to go downhill skiing with this guy....and I’m sorry but this is because of my experience...I think Beel would be great at it, truly, and I believe he would be GREAT at teaching others, going ahead and skiiing backwards, holding your hands if you need it. Otherwise he’s happy to be racing down along side you. However, because of the most terrifying experience I had while I learned how to ski, he gets distracted looking at you, but the flimsy warning “fence” at the bottom of the hill is just that- a warning, not something solid to crash into. He ends up going right under, skis flying out from underneath him and dangling over the edge of a cliff, barely hanging on before trying to wiggle back up into safety. He plays it off fairly quickly, but makes sure he’s always at the bottom before you are so you never have to experience that. Then its the lift, and hot chocolate at the lodge.

Belphie - Making gingerbread houses....if it weren’t so much effort. He opts for rice krispy treats, the vanilla scent and flexibility he gets out of them are much more preferable for him. Also they are easier to mass produce so that his twin can eat some while you make structures out of them. They aren’t as structurally as sound as you would have hoped, and you share a laugh as the “house” collapses in on itself. You end up using a plastic cup to support yours, but Belphie just breaks a piece off to eat and slides the rest over to Beel, fully decorated and all.

Diavolo - SLEDDING OH MY GOD TAKE THIS MAN SLEDDING he has never known the joy and terror of hitting a jump you did not see when you started going down the hill and flying- however, he would refuse to go if there were children there simply because he knows he would run them over and they would not get up. To be fair, his weight and size may simply flatten any jumps on the hill???? but I want to hear the ungodly noise of surprise and terror of being unexpectedly launched to the fucking skies that comes out of a man of his caliber. Because after the first time, he’s intentionally hitting that jump repeatedly, and circumstances allowing, he will use his wings to glide lmao. With that in mind, if he has his demon form out I’m just getting the image of him barreling into a tree full speed and getting his horns stuck. In a daze (could you imagine if he fucking uprooted the thing?) and Barb fucking panicking trying to detach the prince from a fucking THICK tree. That or if there’s a lake at the bottom of the hill? And he can’t just pop the demon form out because of other humans around? God can you imagine the dumb smile he gives you while he’s literally sitting on thin ice, but the moment he shifts his weight shifts, he just hears a crack and yelps before going in the ice water??? He might not be able to use his demon form but theres no way in any realm he’s staying in that shit, by the time you “help” him out, he’s inexplicably dry and very warm. But he would be done for the day, please baby him after that. Basically this man doesnt think to stop his sled bc hes going so fast and its fun, consequences be damned. (Can you tell I think about him a lot? Is the pfp not enough? The people Im on discord with, did you know that Diavolo is my favourite? I love him. This is why Satan and Asmodeus are Not my favourite)

Barbatos - Polar dip. Barb thrives at night because its not until late he's relinquished from his duties as the princes butler. I'm also a firm believer that he likes cold water anyways. Also you see him in a bathing suit so tell me where the loss is. There isn't any loss. Whether you go in with him or cheer him on from the shore and hold his towel, simply being in your presence is enough for him. Moonlit kisses on the sand, trying to warm up after hes done and also...him getting to be a bit of a shit with that excuse, getting you cold and a little wet when he hugs you as soon as he gets out, laughing a bit over your shoulder as he says he was just too cold and a towel didn't cut it. Having a warm shower when you get home and just being very snuggly so neither of you get cold again for the rest of the night.....yeah (also one of my faves xjxjxjjdks)

Mephistopheles - Sleigh ride time! (Thank you @sophisticatedmarten for the inspo) Reindeer aren't quite horses, but they look so damn good in the snow and all dressed up, Meph can't really complain. The seats are plush and the blankets you two brought are fluffy and warm. The demon at the reins is well-practiced and confident, and its clear with how smoothly the sleigh moves. With just the two of you its the perfect time to drop the hottest gossip and exchange stories, but the route the ride is set to go on is absolutely gorgeous. Meph enlists your help in getting as many pictures as possible to capture the magic the season brings. Not only will this be good for RAD and the latest article he hopes to write, but it will be a good way to end the scrapbook he's been putting together for you meticulously with pictures from every date the two of you have gone on- as friends or otherwise- with heartfelt love letters sprinkled in between.

Simeon - Ice skating. Please. I feel like he doesnt know how. I don't either. But just the image of him struggling to balance so much that he pulls out his wings to balance more and ends up smacking some kid in the face by accident. Maybe Luke, who was going full throttle in a race with a friend. (He has more experience bc of school fieldtrips and totally for not self indulgent reasons regarding an angel child oc I have that is an avid figure skater. Yeah.) Simeon being caught by surprise and his wings poofing as he tries to draw them in so he can try and apologize to Luke, but Luke not giving a crap having laughed it off and already bolted again. But because his wings are out and puffed up you can't help but want to snuggle up to his side, hugging him with one arm and getting warmed up by his feathers. It only takes Simeon a couple of minutes with a lead before he figures it out, and the rest of the night is pretty mild. (Except when Luke tried to catch a snowflake on his tongue and Simeon had to catch him before he crashed into someone else)

Raphael - ok I still don't know him. Like at all. Hes a stranger to me. So I'm assigning a snowball fight to him. If you're on opposite sides get ready for him to never hold back and hit you without fail every. Single. Time. He has the most intense snow fortress you've ever seen. If he's playing on your side though? You'll find you won't have a single snowball hit you. He will block Every Single One and if he ever misses the person who hit you is his biggest target. He gets very competitive so you might have to step in before he packs it so hard the ball is just ice. Would go in with his bare hands, gets very soft and flustered when you insist you have to warm them up for him.

Luke - My sweet child!! The week before winter break you and Luke are seated at the table handpainting large wooden beads white, threading sturdy and pretty twine through three, and tying it off so Luke can decorate the little snowmen ornaments to give out to his teachers. There are lots of laughs and giggles, Simeon and Barb are likely there as well and bringing cookies and tea for when they convince both of you to take a small break. The cookies are leftovers from the batches Luke and Barb made earlier, to put into parchment paper wrapped with a ribbon.....to put inside of cute little origami bags. It's a lot of work, seeing as Luke keeps remembering more people he wants to give these little gifts too, but its a labour of love as the four of you get it done. Luke is able to go to bed satisfied and excited for the next school day to hand out his presents.

Solomon - I’m soft for this lovely bastard. And I like to think that every once in a while he also gives into the whims of The Child. So just spending the day between the three of you making snow-people, angels and demons. Solomon’s magic allows for the extra support and correction of lopsided wings or one horn bigger than the other. You find yourself singing about Frosty the Snowman and Luke is enthralled by the story, on the hunt for a silk hat to put on one of the snowfolk. Solomon can’t help but give you a small wink before enchanting the kids own hat and telling him to try it. Despite the suspicious look Luke gives him before trying it, his worry dissipates as the snow version of one of his friends comes to life, leaving him giggling. Thankfully, Solomon left it as a “timed” spell so that there would be no fighting the snowman back to get Luke’s hat, and so it wouldn’t run off. When the magic finally faded the three of you are worn out from playing all day that you all but collapse in front of the fireplace and snuggle a bit until Simeon gets home. Luke gets up and runs off, leaving you and Solomon to cuddle for a bit on your own.

Thirteen - hahaHA my wife I ADORE her grab the red food colouring and her hand, you’re on a mission to find some icicles and some unsuspecting souls. First things first is making a very realistic mold of a body out of snow, and some clothing that may or may not be Solomon’s cut to fit it underneath the icicles. She breaks one off, puts it through the snow dummys neck and dyes it red everywhere the “blood” ought to be. Now yes, the two of you are going to camp on the roof of this place and anytime someone tries to come over you hit the roof to make the icicles fall right before they get there. :) Its just a little dangerous its fine nobody will get seriously hurt. A/N: God I was so overtired writing this, apologies but not really, Im just happy to have been able to write something again. Things have been really stressful lately, would open writing comms but paypal isn’t working so yknow, I’ll find a way to get through it. About to head out on my little sisters Make A Wish Trip, with no fucking money for me to be able to spend because of how shit went down but Happy Holidays!!! Here’s to hoping everything gets better for everyone! Masterlist

268 notes · View notes

zytes · 1 month

Text

I know that the average person’s opinion of AI is in a very tumultuous spot right now - partly due to misinformation and misrepresentation of how AI systems actually function, and partly because of the genuine risk of abuse that comes with powerful new technologies being thrust into the public sector before we’ve had a chance to understand the effects; and I’m not necessarily talking about generative AI and data-scraping, although I think that conversation is also important to have right now. Additionally, the blanket term of “AI” is really very insufficient and only vaguely serves to ballpark a topic which includes many diverse areas of research - many of these developments are quite beneficial for human life, such as potentially designing new antibodies or determining where cancer cells originated within a patient that presents complications. When you hear about artificial intelligence, don’t let your mind instantly gravitate towards a specific application or interpretation of the tech - you’ll miss the most important and impactful developments.

Notably, NVIDIA is holding a keynote presentation from March 18-21st to talk about their recent developments in the field of AI - a 16 minute video summarizing the “everything-so-far” detailed in that keynote can be found here - or in the full 2 hour format here. It’s very, very jargon-y, but includes information spanning a wide range of topics: healthcare, human-like robotics, “digital-twin” simulations that mirror real-world physics and allow robots to virtually train to interact and navigate particular environments — these simulated environments are built on a system called the Omniverse, and can also be displayed to Apple Vision Pro, allowing designers to interact and navigate the virtual environments as though standing within them. Notably, they’ve also created a digital sim of our entire planet for the purpose of advanced weather forecasting. It almost feels like the plot of a science-fiction novel, and seems like a great way to get more data pertinent to the effects of global warming.

It was only a few years ago that NVIDIA pivoted from being a “GPU company” to putting a focus on developing AI-forward features and technology. A few very short years; showing accelerating rates of progress. This is whenever we began seeing things like DLSS and ray-tracing/path-tracing make their way onto NVIDIA GPUs; which all use AI-driven features in some form or another. DLSS, or Deep-Learning Super Sampling, is used to generate and interpolate between frames in a game to boost framerate, performance, visual detail, etc - basically, your system only has to actually render a handful of frames and AI generates everything between those traditionally-rendered frames, freeing up resources in your system. Many game developers are making use of DLSS to essentially bypass optimization to an increasing degree; see Remnant II as a great example of this - runs beautifully on a range of machines with DLSS on, but it runs like shit on even the beefiest machines with DLSS off; though there are some wonky cloth physics, clipping issues, and objects or textures “ghosting” whenever you’re not in-motion; all seem to be a side effect of AI-generation as the effect is visible in other games which make use of DLSS or the AMD-equivalent, FSR.

Now, NVIDIA wants to redefine what the average data center consists of internally, showing how Blackwell GPUs can be combined into racks that process information at exascale speeds — which is very, very fucking fast — speeds like that have only ever actually been achieved on some 4 or 5 machines on the planet, and I think they’ve all been quantum-based machines until now; not totally certain. The first exascale computer came into existence in 2022, called Frontier, it was deemed the fastest supercomputer in existence in June 2023 - operating at some 1.19 exaFLOPS. Notably, this computer is around 7,300 sq ft in size; reminding me of the space-race era supercomputers which were entire rooms. NVIDIA’s Blackwell DGX SuperPOD consists of around 576 GPUs and operates at 11.5 exaFLOPS, and is about the size of standard row of server racks - much smaller than an entire room, but still quite large. NVIDIA is also working with AWS to produce Project Ceiba, another supercomputer consisting of some 20,000GPUs, promising 400 exaFLOPS of AI-driven computation - it doesn’t exist yet.

To make my point, things are probably only going to get weirder from here. It may feel somewhat like living in the midst of the Industrial Revolution, only with fewer years in between each new step. Advances in generative-AI are only a very, very small part of that — and many people have already begun to bury their heads in the sand as a response to this emerging technology - citing the death of authenticity and skill among artists who choose to engage with new and emerging means of creation. Interestingly, the Industrial Revolution is what gave birth to modernism, and modern art, as well as photography, and many of the concerns around the quality of art in this coming age-of-AI and in the post-industrial 1800s largely consist of the same talking points — history is a fucking circle, etc — but historians largely agree that the outcome of the Industrial Revolution was remarkably positive for art and culture; even though it took 100 years and a world war for the changes to really become really accepted among the artists of that era. The Industrial Revolution allowed art to become detached from the aristocratic class and indirectly made art accessible for people who weren’t filthy rich or affluent - new technologies and industrialization widened the horizons for new artistic movements and cultural exchanges to occur. It also allowed capitalist exploitation to ingratiate itself into the western model of society and paved the way for destructive levels of globalization, so: win some, lose some.

It isn’t a stretch to think that AI is going to touch upon nearly every existing industry and change it in some significant way, and the events that are happening right now are the basis of those sweeping changes, and it’s all clearly moving very fast - the next level of individual creative freedom is probably only a few years away. I tend to like the idea that it may soon be possible for an individual or small team to create compelling artistic works and experiences without being at the mercy of an idiot investor or a studio or a clump of illiterate shareholders who have no real interest in the development of compelling and engaging art outside of the perceived financial value that it has once it exists.

If you’re of voting age and not paying very much attention to the climate of technology, I really recommend you start keeping an eye on the news for how these advancements are altering existing industries and systems. It’s probably going to affect everyone, and we have the ability to remain uniquely informed about the world through our existing connection with technology; something the last Industrial Revolution did not have the benefit of. If anything, you should be worried about KOSA, a proposed bill you may have heard about which would limit what you can access on the internet under the guise of making the internet more “kid-friendly and safe”, but will more than likely be used to limit what information can be accessed to only pre-approved sources - limiting access to resources for LGBTQ+ and trans youth. It will be hard to stay reliably informed in a world where any system of authority or government gets to spoon-feed you their version of world events.

#I may have to rewrite/reword stuff later - rough line of thinking on display #or add more context idk #misc #long post #technology #AI

12 notes · View notes

luulapants · 11 months

Text

Let’s talk about obscenity

Western culture is currently in the midst of a great linguistic transition from the second to the third age of obscenity. Right now, it looks like we’re going to approach it more or less the same way that we did the first two, but I think that would be a mistake. So let’s talk about the history of “foul language”:

The First Age

The reason it’s called “cursing” and “swearing” is because, originally, obscene words were religious blasphemy. Making oaths to God, taking the Lord’s name in vain, cursing God. We can see this in the numerous euphemisms that were created as stand-ins for those words: “jeez” for “Jesus,” “tarnation” for “damnation,” “golly” for “God,” “heck” for “hell.”

The commandment “Thou shalt not take the Lord’s name in vain” meant to not invoke the name of God or make oaths on God except when sincerely meant. But as religious topics became entangled with the concept of obscenity, it was over-applied until people would spell out G-O-D rather than say the world when actually talking about God. Moreover, making religious words taboo didn’t stop people from engaging in the actual blasphemies that were meant to be taboo. Is shouting “Jeez!” really any less disrespectful than shouting “Jesus!”? They signify the same concept.

Many of these words continued to be seen as obscene in following ages, but increasingly only by the very devout. Words like “fuck,” “shit,“ “ass,” etc. existed during the first age. They may have been seen as crass, but they weren’t thought of as obscene until the second age.

The Second Age

During the first age, most common folks lived in one-room homes. Couples had sex in the same room as whoever lived with them. People used the chamber pot in front of their families. There just wasn’t room for people to have a sense of privacy about their bodies.

As that changed - starting with those of higher social standing - society developed new norms around sex and the body. The curse words of the second age related to these topics. Once again, a conceptual idea of what was morally correct - keeping sex and the body private - was extended to language. Not only were you not supposed to show anyone your ass, but you couldn’t say “ass” even when talking about it. So “butt”/”buttock” came in, which previously mainly referred to cuts of meat, but then that became obscene, so we have “rump” and “derriere” and “bottom.” What we might call a euphemism treadmill.

Looking back, it’s easy to call this silly. They’re just words, so what does it matter if you say “shit” or “crap” or “poop” or “doo doo”? They all mean the same thing! But the shift to ideas of body privacy weren’t bad. We’ve dialed back the Puritanical prudishness, but we don’t want to return to using the chamber pot in the middle of the living room either. Sex is still considered a private activity, and we don’t want to watch others have sex without agreeing to it first. But making the word “fuck” taboo didn’t create healthy attitudes toward sex or gave us space to grapple with issues like sexual health and consent.

If you’ve found yourself thinking that people don’t care as much about swearing anymore, noticing that media increasingly allows obscene language and no one really cares if you drop a curse word in casual company, you’re partially right... because the words we consider obscene are once again changing.

The Third Age

Today, the worst words you can use are slurs. Words that we use against groups of people. Like the second age, this shift has come due to a broader shift in social norms: it used to be socially acceptable to discriminate against groups of people. Now it is not. This is, objectively, a good thing.

However, if we follow in the pattern of the first two ages of obscenity (and we’re on that track), we can almost guarantee that a focus on correct words will overshadow and inhibit discussing the social changes we want to make. In an interview with Codeswitch, Professor Randall Kennedy, author of Nigger: The Strange Career Of A Troublesome Word, gives an example of the damage this absolutist approach can take:

I did not like it when that documentary was made about James Baldwin, "I Am Not Your Negro." That's not what he said. He said, I am not your nigger. He was very clear. He - that wasn't just a cavalier thing. He had a purpose for how we use the term. And I don't - I think this bowdlerization, I think that this cover-up, this denial, is bad. It is tampering with our cultural history, and we need to - we need realism. We need to be very attentive to facts, even facts that we view as ugly.

It’s not a bad thing that slurs are the new obscenity. It points to positive changes happening in our society. However, focus on obscene words will always detract from discussions of obscene concepts.

The modern day “tarnation,” I think, is something like “g*psy”: a word thinly obscured but signifying the same concept as the one it’s replacing. That asterisk does not give you a free pass to discuss the word lightly, but it gives that sense. If you’re going to talk about the word “gypsy,” I think you should use the word. I think that’s how we make sure we’re talking about it in a serious and conscientious manner. To force you to stop and think, “Have I put enough thought into what I’m saying to warrant using that word?”

Norms around obscene words do not last. In a century or two, people will probably regard the word “faggot” the way we think about “damn” today. It sounds awful to us today, but normalizing “Goddamn it” would have seemed awful to most decent people during the first age. That’s the nature of obscenity: its power exists only in the context of current culture. Language is a tool to convey ideas, but it can’t control them. You can’t kill an idea by killing a word. We need to have conversations about these words so when the fourth age of obscenity comes, the conceptual changes of the third are meaningful and enduring, even as concern for the words wanes.

#language #linguistics #sociolinguistics #slurs #obscenity

76 notes · View notes

bracketsoffear · 11 months

Text

The Thistle Men (Alice Isn't Dead) "The Thistlemen are humanoid serial killers wandering the back roads of the United States. From Episode one they are described as filthy, filthy clothes, hands, dirty fingernails that are an unhealthy, translucent yellow, matching the rest of their bodies. The Thistlemen all have ill-fitting skin, and are remarked upon several times to smell earthy and rotten, like spoiled fruit turning to soil. When hurt, their bodies don’t bleed correctly. When she breaks into their town, the narrator Keisha speaks of the mealy yellow fat that falls from their wounds.

Their town is another thing. Hidden within a US Air Force base, it is a perversion of a normal town, not only because of who it houses, but because of the sick oily sheet covering it. Everything looks sticky to the touch. The location of the town remarks upon corruption within the US government, covering up monsters that are allowed to roam freely and even creating a haven for them to thrive in. This is also seen in how the police will ignore the presence of Thistlemen, treating them without hostility. The fact that the Thistlemen are able to continue terrorizing people as they like, with the knowledge and even approval of the government is deeply chilling.

The Thistlemen are capable of teleporting places in their strange way. Infiltrating places and spreading their destruction about, it’s an almost vermin-like quality, but so much more dangerous. Keisha is tormented by the presence of one in her truck, but every time she checks nothing is inside, save for her cargo. This happens in her house as well, and at a live show event, where the narrative tells of a group of people dedicated to fighting Thistlemen, only for to realize who was lurking in the corners. The event was destroyed from the inside of what was meant to be a safe location. Perhaps it had always been a trap, festering with monsters just under the surface.

Finally, the fact that the Thistlemen chose this path for themselves. They used to be ordinary people, perhaps predisposed to violence, but as they years wore on, they changed. Any semblance of morality they held rotted away as they fell into bigotry and hatred and mistrust. It was a slow descent, with the not-yet-Thistlemen recognizing as their skin sagged and bodies rotted, but they didn’t care. By the time they would kill their first victim, the transformation was complete."

SCP-049: The Plague Doctor (SCP) "SCP-049 is a plague doctor who appears human at first, put isn’t. Yeah that mask they wear? Yeah, that’s not a mask. That’s just their face (check their wiki page, there’s a really cool photo of their bone structure). It is implied that they came into existence during The Black Plague era of humanity. They have one goal in life - to eradicate “The Pestilence”, a disease that only they know the existence of, that only they can sense or detect in any way. They have a cure that only they know and can administer - going so far as calling themselves the cure itself. While this might on the surface detract from them being a Corruption Avatar, it’s actually quite the opposite because… the people they claim are sick show absolutely NO signs of illness. They are perfectly healthy people. And the cure isn’t really a cure. Their touch literally kills people and turns them into zombies, which makes them less of the cure they claim to be, and more of a patient zero. If you haven’t read their article, I implore you check it out, it’s not too long of a read, has some awesome photos to aid with world building, and even has some PHENOMENAL voice acting to go with the interview transcripts."

#corruption poll #the magnus archives #the corruption #alice isn't dead #scp #poll

45 notes · View notes

ghostinthegallery · 17 days

Text

One Year Fanfic Anniversary!

It is officially one year since I posted my first 40k fic on AO3 and really started putting myself out there in the online community (parts of it anyway). And I wanted to do a bit of a retrospective. Some stuff I learned about writing, fanfic, fandom etc.

it is much easier to start writing once you let go of wanting to get everything 100% “correct.” Characters, setting whatever. People don’t care nearly as much as your inner critic thinks. Or if they do…you can just disagree. It’s fanfic, playing around with ideas and interpretations is the point

i started writing with original work so transitioning to fanfic was a shift. But the things i learned about pacing novels are still invaluable. If you really want to level up your writing, definitely study how novels and short stories are structured

that said structuring a long fic is different from structuring the novel. Chapter releases mean each section almost becomes a short story in and of itself. This also means things get way longer than you expect (rip my word count)

referring back to the original texts often is 1) fun 2) helps you notice things you didn’t before and 3) helps prevent the spread of fandom misinformation. Cite your sources! Especially in Warhammer, our fandom infosphere is a mess

I don’t let the comments drive where my story goes in the broad sense, but they do influence certain details. It’s fun being surprised by what/who readers latch onto. And occasionally a comment has reminded me of something that exists I totally forgot about/didn’t even know. So I look super smart if I pretend that was my intention all along :D

Something should change between the beginning of the scene and the end. Internally or externally or both, something should be different

people did not bash me in the head with the judgement hammer when i decided to publish smut. This has been very liberating. Perhaps too liberating XD

smut is a great way to practice writing short stories. Sex has a clear arc (set up, build up, climax, come down), it is a great space for character exploration, it necessarily involves relationships between characters. and you only need a few scenes (often only one scene) so it stays short. This has been great practice as someone who could not write a short story to save my life

idk if this has mattered but i feel not allowing anonymous comments on AO3 has saved me a lot of grief.

carving out a small fandom space is the way to go. Curate your feed. Block liberally. Don’t engage with people who annoy you, it is not worth it

reblogging and interacting in the comments has been an awesome way to meet people. Highly recommend

Encouraging other people (especially newer creators) to create gets you more art so definitely do that (kindly of course)

robots really are sexy

#Fanfic #writing #personal ramble #thanks for an awesome year guys <3 #warhammer40k

15 notes · View notes

artbyblastweave · 1 year

Text

Yesterday I was discussing open-world videogames with a coworker of mine with a severe futurist bent. He painted a vision (with an unknown-to-me level of insight into the actual technical feasibility of any of this) of a Skyrim-flavored open world game in which AI-generation of assets extended all the way down to on-the-fly level design, character design, NPC relationship mapping, dialogue, a game that was emergent at every conceivable level below the broadest possible plot points, and maybe even above that. He painted this as a good thing because of the labor it would save, the accessibility it would provide dev teams smaller than that of a triple-A studio, and the sheer scope of “novel” content it would allow you to put into one game.

I have no moral objection to the game he’s hypothesizing, but I wouldn’t play it. It sounded like he was taking the thinnest and most aggressively repetitive part of Skyrim- The Radiant Quest System- and stripping out the element that made it bearable, which was that it would sometimes lead you to smaller, more intentionally-crafted dungeons with environmental storytelling setpieces. One thing I liked about Skyrim was that, thin as the character dynamics wound up being in practice, it was clear that actual humans had sat down in a room and mapped out all of a hold’s residents' relationships to one another and wrote their pool of interactions accordingly. A computer could almost certainly be used to populate a town this way, but without heavy human curation of the resultant personalities I simply wouldn’t care. My Coworker was describing a game that systematically stripped out every one of Skyrim’s redeeming qualities and replaced them with things that he valued, and that I did not value at all.

He was also, on reflection, describing Dwarf Fortress. Within constraints, my understanding is that the game does in fact procedurally generate the character lineages, worldmap, world lore, creature design, and really everything that made me wail and gnash my teeth when faced of the prospect of a scrollslike that did the same thing. Dwarf Fortress’s implementation of this is well received. People on here are more than willing to pull coherent narratives together out of the disparate events that crop up in the simulation- For example, that post about the “Frozen One” Legendary Owl Lady that’s currently circulating. I think it requires serious goodwill towards the project to be willing to take the narrative threads produced by the game and run with them; a willingness to project a story into a space where one doesn’t actually exist, narrative apophenia. The source of the goodwill is also obvious; Dwarf Fortress is an Auteur project by an unbelievably small team whose dedication and love for their craft oozes out of every corner of the continuously evolving end product. So when they say the point of the project is to create a mill for new and interesting emergent situations, people take them at their word, meet them halfway, do the rest of the mythologizing and generation of meaning on their end. And I am a second-order beneficiary of that, despite the low likelihood I’ll ever get into the game myself.

If a triple-A scrollslike came out with an installment that integrated procedural generation at a similar level, nobody would extend it that same good will. Because by virtue of the kind of company that would be producing a scrollslike, the obvious incentive for involving those technologies would be to cut out as many human creatives as possible so they don’t have to pay them- in the process cutting out most of the human creative intent that is in fact a large part of what I’m paying for when I buy these things.

I think you can generalize something from this.

#thoughts #meta #video games

96 notes · View notes

cirilla-fiona-riannon · 1 year

Text

Ikemen Sengoku (JP)

Kicho's Main Story Chapter 2 Premium

Mai: "Actually, there's something I've been hiding from you."

Mai: "I don't know if you'll believe me, but can you hear me out?"

Kicho: "Yeah. What is it?"

Mai: "I came from five hundred years in the future."

Kicho: "............"

Kicho looked surprised for a moment after hearing my words but quickly returned to his usual unreadable expression.

Kicho: "Future?"

Mai: "I was on vacation when a wormhole suddenly appeared and sent me back here in the Sengoku period."

Mai: "That was about three months ago. Someone took me in after that."

Kicho: "That's why you said you came from a village in the countryside?"

Mai: "Yes. But with no way to get home, I couldn't just let them take care of me all the time, so I looked for a place to work and found out about this place."

Kicho: "It makes sense. But I don't trust you."

Kicho: "What you’re saying is nothing but just a bunch of nonsense."

Kicho: "If you really are from the future, show me some evidence to convince me."

(I have a handkerchief as proof, but it would just look like any other hand towel.)

(Damn it, I should've brought my bag.)

(I have my camera and pen case in there.)

Mai: "Oh."

------------Flashback------------

Mai: "If only there was a brush that never ran out of ink, it would be useful in this situation."

Kicho: "You're right. If I had a ballpoint pen right now, I'd lend it to you."

---------Flashback Ends---------

(I thought I was imagining it, but maybe一)

Kicho: "What's wrong? Got nothing?"

Mai: "Yeah. I wish I had something from the future to give you, but I almost brought nothing."

Mai: "Though, I know about it too. The ballpoint pen."

Kicho: "That's一"

Mai: "You mentioned it before. That thing allows you to write without having to put anything on it and doesn't exist at this period."

Mai: "You know about the future, don’t you?"

(He used to be in the Oda army, and Mitsuhide had known him since he was a kid, so he's not originally from the future.)

Mai: "I got curious, so I snuck into this room to see if I could find any clues about you."

Mai: "I'm really sorry for doing that."

I bowed my head, my heart pounding as I waited for his response.

Kicho: "To answer your question, yes, I know the future."

Mai: "I knew it!"

I looked up and saw him giving me a pitiful look.

(Huh? That's not the reaction I was expecting.)

Kicho: "I see. You were born and raised in that miserable world."

Mai: "M-Miserable?"

Kicho: "I'm not from the future, but I traveled through a wormhole once."

Mai: "But you came back."

Kicho: "Yes. For a purpose."

Kicho lazily crossed his legs and sighed deeply.

Kicho: "I will use any means to achieve my goal."

Mai: "So, weapons?"

Kicho: "Yes. You know that Japan in the future is free of conflict."

Kicho: "Creating that hellish world is not the way to save everyone. That's why I'm going to continue this turbulent world."

Mai: "But..."

(How did he come to that conclusion after seeing a future without war?)

(From what I've seen, he really values life, yet his purpose contradicts it.)

Every time I talk to this inconsistent man, I feel like I'm wandering through a deep, foggy forest.

(This guy is an enemy of the Oda army and mine.)

(But I'd like to know a little bit more.)

Not only about the number of guns and his schemes but also about himself.

If I could do that, maybe I could put the missing pieces together.

Mai: "Um, can I still stay here?"

Kicho: "Well, you have nowhere else to go."

Mai: "Yes."

Kicho: "Then you can stay. But believing that you're from the future is different from trusting you."

Kicho: "I only have one condition."

Kicho cut off his words there, stood up, and walked to his desk.

He then took something out of the top drawer and showed it to me.

(Key?)

Kicho: "To keep an eye on you, starting tomorrow, you'll be working with me."

Kicho: "In other words, you will be my secretary."

Kicho: "That's the condition of staying here."

Mai: "What?"

Kicho: "Unsatisfied? Then you have no choice but to leave."

Kicho: "I'm determined to eliminate anyone who stands in my way or may stand in my way."

(I guess there's nothing I can do. I'm already lucky that he let me off the hook after he found out that I snuck in here.)

(I'll just try to be as normal as possible if he's going to monitor me.)

Mai: "Okay. I'll be happy to help!"

Kicho: "Then this conversation is over."

After confirming that I agreed, he opened the bottom drawer, took out a wooden box, and approached me.

Mai: "What's that?"

Kicho: "Some things I’ll use to patch you up."

Kicho: "Put your hand over here. You burn your fingers earlier with the tea."

(I completely forgot about it.)

I held out my hand as I was told, and his long, slender fingers took it, surprising me with his gentle touch.

Kicho: "It's a little reddish. I'll put some ointment on it just in case."

Mai: "I’m fine. It's not that painful, and it'll heal eventually."

Kicho: "I'm going to apply it now."

Kicho took my hand and applied a bit of it to the affected area.

Even though I knew he was only treating me, I couldn't help but blush as he gently stroked my hand.

(This is kind of embarrassing.)

Kicho: "That should do it. The redness should go away in a few days."

Mai: "T-Thank you, that helped."

Kicho: "If you get hurt again, let me know."

Kicho: "Don't be insensitive to pain. That's the same as neglecting yourself."

(Kicho...)

His tone of voice was as gentle as his hands, and I nodded my head, a little surprised.

Previous Chapter╏Masterlist╏Next Chapter

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen kicho #ikesen kichou #ikesen jp #ikesen #ikesen spoilers #ikesen translations #cybird #kicho

83 notes · View notes

omegalomania · 2 years

Text

deeply and forever obsessed and enamored with how fall out boy discuss fame and accessibility with so much hyper-awareness of what they are, what their status renders them in the eyes of the public. in the accessibility of the early days when pete would do livejournal blogs and q&as and on the very opening lines of cork tree the album that made them big like really big and how the desire to create intersects with the deeply potent anxiety centered around your self-worth as someone who lives with a mental illness and creates in spite of that (the immense psychological damage i endure when i think of the line I only keep myself this sick in the head 'cause I know how the words get you off because that is ioh’s thesis statement, because ioh is an album named after a van gogh quote be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high. then life seems almost enchanted after all. and we hear that constant and deeply flawed rhetoric of if van gogh wasn’t so depressed we never would have gotten starry night, overlooking the point that van gogh was a creator not because of his neuroses but in spite of them. because that line that the album title comes from is a quote from a letter from van gogh to his brother, discussing how his improving mental health has had a deeply positive effect on his art.)

porcelain. my frankenstein. songs about hero worship and what it means to have an idol that doesnt live up to expectations. the agonizing pressure to always try and live up to that but being so afraid that you won’t. you don’t want to hurt people but it’s inevitable that you will. you will. alpha dog. the music or the misery. she’s my winona. the take over the break’s over. from now on we are enemies. the wrong side of paradise. the knowledge that on some level something of what you are will never be enough for people because you changed but did they even really like you anyway? or did they just like the things that afflicted you? citizens for our betterment. welcome to the new administration. we are a spectacle. we are to be witnessed and consumed and speculated upon. our personhood is secondary, is negligible.

and then sunshine riptide. sunshine riptide and more specifically, the way it combined with the mania experience. please don’t tap the glass. i read it in reverse. we’re the things on display. pete wentz in a glass cage, to be studied and watched. turning himself into a commodity. only. only he’s not that exactly, is he? he’s not just something to be observed because he isn’t acknowledging anyone else. he is aware of his status in the eyes of the public. he is aware like a razor’s edge what it means to be who he is - a mentally ill black man whose art is always under scrutiny, whose art is a culmination of all that he is, who must always be exceptional and beyond reproach if he is ever to achieve a positive comparison to his white peers, and the intersections of all that he is have always been present in his art and in his lyricism and in how he interprets things. please don’t tap the glass. he is what’s on display. he understands what it is to be commodified.

but he dis-acknowledges everything else around him, the people gathered nearby. he is coloring pictures. he is listening to music. he is comfortable in his own space in spite of the many strangers’ eyes on him. please don’t tap the glass. i can never explain what this does to me, this mental image of pete in a glass box. fundamentally absurd but also with this absolute knowledge of who and what he is in the public eye, and reclaiming that under his own power. he is a spectacle. he is an artist. but first he’s a person, isn’t he? he doesn’t exist for our consumption. he never has. but he continues to allow us these discrete windows into himself regardless, despite all this might invite. despite the speculation, the scrutiny, the infamy, the contempt, and everything that comes along with it.

please don’t tap the glass.

#*making poasts #this is like barely coherent im just like. buzzing around in my brain abt this #ioh and mania in particular but this is just a throughline in a lot of fobs stuff and even their solo stuff #just...theyre SO aware of it and im so in love with that about them #their understanding of who they are in the public eye. and the push and pull of all that entails.

400 notes · View notes

multiplicity-positivity · 7 months

Note

Yk im so confused cuz when we switch it doesnt feel like weve switched? Were mixed origin (trauma, endo, paro and a couple more) but we still feel invalid. Were also kindaaaa new to it and were still sorta confused on how to will alters into existence sorta??? Idk help

Hey there. When it comes to willing alters into existence (or headmates, rather, since as we understand “alters” is a dissociative disorder specific word), we don’t have any experience with this. We do have a resource post for questioning systems with a section on non-complex dissociative disorder plurality, which has lots of links to resources for helping to create headmates and thoughtforms:

Also, on switching…

As far as we know, there’s no singular accepted way for switching to work or for switches to look. Switches can look and feel really different from system to system and even headmate to headmate. It’s possible for headmates to switch out while still being able to perceive the world. I (Parker) am almost always fronting to some extent, but I do say I’ve switched out if I’m not in control of my own body, even if I can still witness what’s going on.

Literally even just pretending to switch can count as switching. “Easing in” to the identities of your headmates to allow them to interact with the world can count as switching. Having two cofronters who take turns interacting with the world can count as switching. There’s no hard boundaries when it comes to switching and what switching can look like, so if you and your headmates think that you’ve switched, it’s okay to say that.

Y’all might not feel like you’ve switched successfully because one of you remains co-conscious even when not in the front. Lots of systems actually function this way. There’s a word, monoconscious, which describes a system where all headmates are aware of each other and the world all at once. In other words, they all share the same consciousness. We’ll include the Pluralpedia entry:

https://pluralpedia.org/w/Monoconscious (hyperlinked since it’s not linking normally for some reason)

If you’re feeling insecure about switching, we’d recommend having a meeting or at least opening a dialogue with your headmates about this. What about your switches makes you feel invalidated? Do your headmates agree? Are you holding any (potentially unrealistic) expectations for your system when it comes to switching? Why feel like your switches have to look or feel a certain way in order to be seen as valid? Hopefully your whole system can work together to come to a better understanding about what switching looks like for your system and how to make peace with this.

I’m sorry if we can’t really offer strong or useful advice/encouragement here. Really though, switching can look so very different for any system. So it’s okay if the way your switches work or feel isn’t how you anticipate it to work for other systems. That doesn’t invalidate your system or your plurality in any way. On the contrary, it actually reveals just how amazingly diverse and complex plurality can be, with different systems experiencing switches in many different ways.

Again, I’m sorry if we’re not super helpful here. Idk I’m not as good at Corrie or Ralsei when it comes to giving meaningful advice. And Ghost is just along for the ride lol. But we do hope things get better for y’all, we really do.

💫 Parker and 👻 Ghost

#switching #created headmate #mixed origins #sorry idk how to tag this

14 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Note

You’re writing never ceases from fascinating me and I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while now, but could you perhaps give us some book recommendations? There’s no fixed criteria, nor any fiction or non fiction preference, I really just would like to know what sort of books you enjoy and how they’ve impacted you!

Sorry if there’s any grammatical errors, I don’t use English quite often and my apologies if you’ve answered this question before and I simply did not notice :’)

your english is excellent, don't worry!!! thank you so much for your encouraging words, i really appreciate it 🥺💖💖💖

as for books i'd recommend, you can check out the definitive list here, but i can expand on the impact my favorites have had on me!! i don't think i've done that yet, at least. i'm always down for an excuse to gush about my favorite books.

“I think the devil doesn't exist, but man has created him, he has created him in his own image and likeness.” The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky

ah, my favorite author, who i mention on this blog frequently. TBK takes the crown of being my absolute favorite book. it deals with themes that resonated with me personally, since i grew up in the christian faith and have experienced no small share of skepticism with what was essentially my childhood foundation. while there are plenty of intriguing themes explored throughout this work, dostoevsky's take on the age old question "if there is a god, why does he allow such terrible things to happen, and if such a god exists, can he really be called 'good'?" is a sight to behold. he takes the question very seriously and doesn't settle for simple platitudes to explain it away. at its heart, TBK is deeply human, delving into our flaws and triumphs.

“I admit that twice two makes four is an excellent thing, but if we are to give everything its due, twice two makes five is sometimes a very charming thing too.” Notes From Underground, by Fyodor Dostoevsky

the novella's protagonist, the underground man, embodies some of our more unsightly thoughts and beliefs. he's openly bitter, resenting the 'common man', while secretly pining for the simple joy they're able to live life with, unburdened by being overly self-aware. it's a fascinating look into how self-contradictory people often are. one of the themes this story tackles was a philosophy gaining traction at the time, determinism. through the underground man, dostoevsky posits that humans are not so simple as to always take the best course of action for themselves, as rational egoism would claim. trying to understand people by thinking they'll always act in their best interest, while a nice sentiment, just doesn't match with what we see in reality. people are weird and do weird things, sometimes just for the sake of it. dostoevsky has such a solid grasp on human nature and how confounding it is.

“You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.” The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

there's nothing like a good ol' fashioned fall from grace. here we get to see the slow yet steady degradation of innocence into depravity, the highs and lows that come from it. the conversations between dorian and lord henry are some of my favorite dialogue exchanges in fiction. there's this wry social commentary, sharp wit, and undeniable charisma. it's almost as if we the reader are being seduced by lord henry's libertine inclinations in the same way dorian is. oscar wilde is another author who has some of my favorite prose. he knows how to paint a scene with words. it's always such a delight to read his work.

“I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.” Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley

gothic elements and references to alchemy? i'm running at top speeds. i loved watching this tragedy unfold. frankenstein's monster was always my favorite perspective to read from. his handling of the curse of being created, his initial naïve desire to belong to humanity, then the burning rage upon his unfair rejection... it's so eloquently written. even as he devolves into committing cruel acts, i still felt sympathetic toward him, and similarly lamented 'what could've been' had people been kinder. it's a classic for a reason.

“Thus each of us had to be content to live only for the day, alone under the vast indifference of the sky.” The Plague, by Albert Camus

albert camus is a very fascinating author to me. i'm especially interested in his absurdist philosophy, there are a lot of beats to it that i find appealing. maybe it's due in part to recently experiencing the covid 19 pandemic, but man did this book hit close to home. beyond the metaphysical themes of just living in a world that doesn't care about you and how to handle that realization without falling into despair, it also mirrors a lot of what we saw these past few years. an initial reluctance from positions in power to acknowledge a plague outbreak, the wide range of people's responses (trying to live on as normal, turning to religion, turning away from religion, looking for a way to make profit, looking for a way to help others...), the steady numbness to seeing numbers that represent those taken from the plague every week. camus just nails it. at the same time, the book isn't overly pessimistic or optimistic. there aren't any gallant heroes or nefarious villains. there are just... people, doing what they can, in spite of overwhelming circumstances.

“I was pretending that I did not speak their language; on the moon we spoke a soft, liquid tongue, and sang in the starlight, looking down on the dead dried world.” We Have Always Lived In The Castle, by Shirley Jackson

shirley jackson's prose... i can only describe it as magical. it tickles the brain. right from the beginning, we have a tale of intrigue told from an unreliable protagonist who, throughout the story, you slowly get the sense is somewhat off. there story feels dreamlike in a sense. it's rooted enough in reality where your suspension of disbelief isn't shaken, yet there's also this uncanniness to it that makes for a unique experience.

#sweet asks #recommendations #answered #Anonymous

49 notes · View notes