#Madness and Civilisation
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The world MUST know about this.
If you're wondering who owns your copy of The Catcher in The Rye, it's me. I legally own all copies. My collection spans lifetimes.
Let's start off by saying... the real 'atrocity' is the spelling in this document. And total lack of any apparent sense... The world has to know what they've put me through... Everyone I know has already seen this. I'm very proud. I was ecstatic to receive this letter.
More than 8... less than 25. 25 is a little too far, do we think?
So I was put on the terrorist register for this... but it's okay because they took me back off. Pretty badass, right?
Tumbler is like my diary. It's so easy to post here. I love Tumbler.
Anyway, I felt so pathologized by this. And what a loss of dignity. The only way to combat this is to share it in a way that makes me feel that I have regained power... Is posting medical documents on the internet all good with you?
Note the logo at the bottom of this next picture. 'Young people friendly'. Funny.
The letter I sent the Psychosis Team about my life story was 5 pages long and contained printed excerpts from my journals spanning back to 2022. This didn't help. I guess I'll update you all on Wednesday.
Some have said my life is like a performance art project, I guess you could say that. I care a lot about my Public Image. It's important to Keep Up Appearances. Everyone, EVERYONE is sick of this stuff. It's too late now to stop, though.
Droped as a kid innit.
This lady asked me, 'Do you Google instructions on how to make bombs?'
I told them I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't currently self harm, I don't speak to strangers online, I don't have any social media, I don't have the means to make a bomb or cause destruction in any way, and I have no solid plans to do so. I told them 2026 and they put 2025. They sent me for an MRI scan. There was no MRI scan, just an interview with a Malay doctor who was shorter than me who asked me terribly worded questions... 'What do you hallucinate?' 'How many times a day does this happen?' (If I had a Malaysian Ringgit for every time I've been asked that)
I told the school nurse I was hearing voices telling me to hurt the people around me. I was told my self harm was superficial. I was told I had 'Generalized Anxiety Disorder' and 'Depression'. The family did not find CAMHS helpful at this time...
She asked me the HEADSS assessment questions - a psychosocial tool used on teenagers. My mother turns to me and asks me, 'Are you going to tell her..? About the... John Lennon stuff?' ...I tell her no. It's irrelevant. Did they think I had a brain tumor? Like the Texas Tower Shooter? Like Charles Whitman?
H- Home and Environment
I told her I have a good relationship with my mother. I really do. I swear. I feel that throughout my entire life I have been neglected. Our house is a wreck. I will never forget the things that have been said to me throughout my life with her. I I don't know if I can fix the impact of what has happened to me.
E- Education and Employment
Yeah, I love College. I dropped out of school, innit. I guess that's cool. Thanks for asking.
A- Activities
I don't know what these are, to be totally honest.
D- Drugs
I love getting high. I was given magic mushrooms at a party when I was 14. I love smoking weed with my friend winking emoji. I love to drink. I drink once a week or more, hard liquor or beer or whatever I can find. I smoke every day. I'm not planning on quitting. I will take whatever I'm offered. I don't think it's cool. I told her I'm not interested in that kind of stuff.
S- Sexuality
No, this one's true. I'm the Super Virgin. N.F.I. Not Fucking Interested. Don't you think I have enough on my Plate?
S- Suicide and Depression
I told her the last time I self-harmed was last year, in Winter. I told her I used to have suicidal thoughts but I don't anymore because I love my life. They left me with no support over the Summer for 3 months this year and I almost died. Nobody's going to find out about that. She tested my reflexes and put her hand directly on top of my scars. Bloody hilarious, I thought, as I had a heart attack and nearly died on the spot. She told me I looked very uncomfortable. No, I don't want to die, really.
She had an absolutely abysmal bedside manner. She told me, when I saw that I had a patient with psychosis, I was so scared you'd be... violent or something. But you're so nice. Or something along those lines. They made me wait for almost an hour in the pediatric X-Ray ward surrounded by crying children and snot and my mother nearly went batshit crazy. She said there were too many broken bones. The pediatric neurologist told me she liked my hair. Twice. She said I was 'Beautiful and Well-Mannered'. Isn't that nice.
There's a lot more I could say. I'll save it for another time... isn't it funny? I think it's hilarious. That this has eaten up 2 years of my life now and there's no sign of it stopping. I have become dissilusioned with the concept of 'Mental Illness' after reading some Foucault. It didn't take much to convince me. The real problem is what's around me, not myself.
I'll tell you all about the other stuff another time.
#Stories#Made up Story#Catholic#Madness and Civilisation#Well mannered#Beautiful#huge natural breasts#planes#60s#america#bible#Salinger#J.D. Salinger#Art#John Lennon#Kill John Lennon#books#80s#Cringe and EDGY
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@noknowshame 's tags
#love these lines bc for most of the show piracy is depicted as the antithesis of civilzation #but one of the most insidious parts of civilization is how it can actually -use- crime to uphold the system #(not to mention. if it were not for the economic system of civilization - what would the pirates steal?) #(it's such an interesting dynamic. predatory and parasitic and mutualistic all at once)
BLACK SAILS • IX. | XXXVI.
2.01 "So this is the lesson… the pirates of New Providence Island are incorrigible, dedicated to mayhem. To attempt to address this subject is doomed to defeat from the outset." "It's not him I wanted you to see. [No mercy! Go all the way to hell!] It's them." 4.08 "Those are the pirates. They've inhabited the east bank, across from Springett Island for years. The governor promises this is the year he'll chase them off, but there they are. Seven major shipping concerns in the city here. In less than 10 years, more goods will move through here than any English-speaking port outside London."
#this entire thing makes me so mad (as in insane but also as in angry)#black sails meta#with how civilisation is often framed as a parent is piracy a baby that needs it's umbilical cord cut?
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Goobert and Father of Goobert
they're so precious
#knowing craig#he's probably going to reblog this with something like#“they've both killed entire civilisations”#but it's okay bc i already forgive them#too smol to be mad at#craig asks
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Doc really went "here's my character: he's a butterfly-goat-creeper-cyborg mad scientist, last descendant of a lost civilisation that worshipped the goatmother. He had to be nerfed bc he killed god once so they removed his arm but he built a new one so it's fine. He likes to tear holes in the fabric of minecraft reality for fun. Also he wears crocs."
And I think that's great
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Last survivor of an extinct alien civilisation who regards this as a personal victory.
Last survivor of an extinct alien civilisation who's just as surprised as you are.
Last survivor of an extinct alien civilisation who's mad about being left out.
Last survivor of an extinct alien civilisation who tells a different story about how it happened each time they're asked.
Last survivor of an extinct alien civilisation who, in their unguarded moments, admits it's probably for the best.
Last survivor of an extinct alien civilisation who claims the others are "just resting".
Last survivor of an extinct alien civilisation who insists it's not their fault.
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me with a million books to read already: I need to read foucault
#as confusing as he can be sometimes 🤨 i had a lot of fun reading madness and civilisation though i only got halfway through LOL#my things#...#still havent finished time war so maybe ill .. do that
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↳ Index [Day 21 - Needy Fucking]
Pairing: Soft Dom!Seokjin x f. sub!Reader
Genre: married life!AU
Kinks: penetrative vaginal sex, needy fucking, oh lord they are so needy, strength & size kink (he is taller), hair pulling (m.receiving), choking (f.receiving), subby girl tears, praise kink, good girl kink, possessive dirty talk, breeding kink for the sake of possession NOT pregnancy, creampie, use of a plug to keep the cum inside afterwards, he playfully spanks her clit with it, hihih they’re so needy but they’re also in love <3
Wordcount: 2.2k
a/n: honestly, i don’t know what demon possessed me but i wrote this in like fourty minutes and it’s so unhinged JFJDAJF i watched outlander before that and they were being so horny so i think the language i used got a lil influenced by it jjfadjf have fun my loves 💗
“You’re such a good girl”, Seokjin grunts through gritted teeth, burying his heavy cock inside your dripping cunt over and over again.
You are beneath him, writhing and moaning with your head far away in the blissful high of pleasure he has you on.
It started off as a romantic evening. You and he wanted to do something special as husband and wife, have a little date and make it lovely. And oh lovely it was. You went for dinner to an expensive restaurant then had fun at an arcade until you even spent your last pennies on the silly machines. It was perfect. It was fun. It was romantic. And it was arousing.
Being with each other like this - having fun and laughing together, spending time doing something you both enjoyed and seeing each other dressed up in pretty clothes - made the desire for each other so unbearable that you barely managed to drive home without taking each other in the car. In the middle of the road, causing trouble for others. Of course you didn’t. You were civilised like that. Ignoring, of course, the heavy make out session in the apartment complex hallway. Now, normally you and he are never that public with your skin ship, let alone with outright desire, but you needed each other so much. Seokjin kept panting and growling into your mouth, acting like a starved man finally having his taste of flesh again. You never witnessed him in public like this before, wanting him like nothing else because of it. If you were any less civilised, you might have ripped his clothes off his body right there and then.
But you controlled yourselves, stumbling into your apartment and right to your bedroom, undressing each other on the way so that you fell into the sheets both naked and wet. There was barely any, what others might consider as traditional, foreplay. No long exploring touching, no hungry mouths tasting the other, no grinds or needy rubbing. There were hungry kisses, strong grips and desperate begs for the other. It wasn’t long after you and he fell into the sheets that Seokjin was buried inside of you. Deep and in a merciless, maddening rhythm. And you loved it. You loved every second of it.
You still do.
You love it so much.
“Good girl, taking me so well. Being so pretty for me, fuck I can’t get enough of you”, he moans, showing you his honesty in heavy rolls of his hips. His cock is weeping, pleasure mixing with yours and covering both your groins in it. How sticky it is. How messy and wet and sinful. If he could, he would bottle this feeling so he can relive it whenever he wants to. He loves nothing more than to laugh with you, loves nothing more than to experience happy life with you and to see that you are enjoying yourself as well. Tonight you ruined him, you made him a mad man driven by his desire for you. You looked so beautiful, you were so perfect and funny and wonderful. Seokjin knew he had to make you feel eternal the moment you first smiled at him.
And he loves that you want him just as much, that you are so wet and so warm because you are in paradise. Seokjin pumps his throbbing cock into you in a sensual roll of his hips. He keeps it there, writing his name on your most sensitive spot. He watches with a dizzy head how this turns off every single light of sanity in your eyes, leaving behind fiery, wild flames of pleasure. The only thing keeping the flames at pay are your tears, filling your beautiful eyes before rolling down your temples.
“Jin”, you whimper, lower lip trembling and fingers desperately grasping his hair. It is as black and dark as the night, hanging into his beautiful face messy and damp from sweat. It sits perfectly between your fingers, twisting so easily as you hold onto it for dear life.
“Does it feel good for you? Is this nice?” he asks you, mesmerised by the view of you.
You nod your head, sobbing softly with your brows furrowing in ecstasy.
“___ my sweetheart, I love being with you”, he gets out, making sure to keep the rhythm going. It makes you feel like this and Seokjin would be damned if he took this away from you. The tug on his hair grows. It burns and pinches, motivating him to keep going. It feels so good to have his hair pulled. Especially when it is done in a moment of passion.
You do it gently and softly whenever you and he are making out. You do it mindlessly and rather shakily when he eats you out for a long and attentive time. And you do it harshly and desperately whenever he is buried inside you to the very hilt.
Seokjin loves having his hair pulled in a moment of passion, riding on such a strong wave of pleasure that the feeling brings him to his fall tonight.
His middle presses into you, rubbing against your swollen clit while his veiny cock still drills your puffy walls. His face falls into the crook of your neck and his left hand incidentally falls around your throat, laying there trembling and trying not to squeeze down.
“Seokjin”, you sob, instantly wrapping your limbs around him. Your hips meet him in the middle, falling into a sloppy dance solely motivated by pleasure. It feels so good to both of you that you can’t stop it. So now you lie rutting and fucking in the sheets, holding each other so close that not even air could separate the two of you.
He is taller than you, he has more muscles too. You always call him your gentle giant and your handsome protector. Whenever you do, Seokjin smiles to himself shyly and he seems to be cuddlier for the rest of the day. Sometimes when you lie together after a hard day, you love to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. You feel so safe whenever he allows you to do this. When the weather is colder again, you sometimes like to cuddle into him until he wraps his jacket around both of you. You feel so warm and taken care of whenever he does this. And sometimes in bed, when he is barely awake, you lie beside him and trace the paths of his body until you made a map of it. You feel so blessed whenever he gives you consent to do this.
Tonight, his tall, strong body is atop of you, spending you warmth and applying gentle pressure on your chest. You never felt more connected with him than you do right now and you sob because of it, begging him to seal the connection even deeper.
“Choke me, please.”
His hips falter for a moment.
“Please my love, please.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, please. I’m yours, just please make me yours.”
“Oh, I’m gonna make you mine in more ways than one, my love.”
His fingers close around your throat, cutting off the blood flow to your brain just enough that a warm dizziness spreads behind your eyes.
“Holy fuck, Seokjin”, you moan, arching your back as best as his body on top allows you to, fingers twisting his hair in an attempt to handle what he gives you.
“Is this what you need, sweetheart? Does this feel good?”
“Yes, good. So good, oh god, so good”, you sob and mewl, throbbing around his heavy cock.
“Fuck sweetheart, I’m gonna cum so deep inside you. Gonna breed you with the sole purpose of making you mine.”
“Seokjin, please!”
“The way you say my name, urgh fuck”, he gets out and growls, forcing himself back onto one elbow so he can look at your face as he makes you feel eternal.
Your eyes are squeezed shut, your brows pulled tight and your mouth is agape. This is it. This is the face you make when you feel nothing but pleasure.
Seokjin swears he tears up himself at the sight of you, applying a little more pressure on your veins.
You wail up, arching your back off the sheets and reaching above yourself to twist the pillow. Your legs fall from his hips, shaking on the mattress each time he drills his leaking cock into you.
“Say it again, sweetheart. Say my fucking name.”
“Seokjin”, you croak.
“That’s right. Who makes you feel so good?”
“Seokjin”, you whimper.
“I do, baby, I do. Fuck”, he grunts, struggles for a second then continues with even more passion, “and who do you belong to?”
“Seokjin”, you wail, grasping his wrists to squeezes them so tightly, Seokjin fears they might bruise.
“You do, baby, you do. Fuck, you do. Mine and I’m yours. All yours, baby. With my body, heart and soul. Yours.”
“I’m cumming, please.”
“Let go, sweetheart. I’m right here. Your gentle Seokjin’s right here”, he soothes you and lets go of your throat.
The blood shoots back to your brain, serving as the final blow to throw you over the edge. You make a little squeak then fall into silent screams, shaking with such vigour that Seokjin fears for you for just a moment.
“Holy fuck sweetheart, what the hell? Baby, fuck. That’s it, cum for me. That’s it, such a good girl. Cum on my cock, such a good girl. You’re so pretty like this, my good girl, my pretty girl”, he chants, tongue acting quicker than his brain. He has no idea what he is spitting, but he knows that whatever he is saying to you in his delirious state, it comes from his heart (and maybe also a little from his cock).
“Please. Breed me”, you croak out with what little strength you have left as your orgasm shakes you, but to Seokjin’s ears it was as clear as day.
It breaks him. He couldn’t have stopped it even if he tried.
His eyes roll back and stay there, his back arches as far as the position allows it to. His legs feel like weak sticks, shaking between yours as his heavy balls empty themselves inside your tight cunt. He makes sure to cum so deep, to bury each droplet of his white seed in your walls so that they will know who they are allowed to welcome. Not that he has any doubt in your faithfulness, as you have none in his’, but it still feels so good to both of you to seal this promise of monogamy with a deep, sticky creampie.
He drops on top of you once your highs died down, burying you under his weight. Not that you mind. You hug him tightly, smiling happily with your head still turning.
“I fucking love you, Mister Kim”, you lull.
“I fucking love you too, Misses Kim”, he rasps, voice barely there after what he just experienced.
With your heart fluttering, you giggle. He giggles as well, kissing your neck softly. You enjoy it with tingling skin, making him feel good as well by tracing his spine gently.
“I can’t believe we did that.”
“Yeah, it was amazing. For me it at least. Was it-”
“Hush, of course it was amazing for me. You did everything right.”
“Yay, I’m glad I did.”
You laugh because he is a dork and you are irrevocably in love with him. You shift a little under him, groaning in disappointment.
“I don’t want to leak. I wanna keep you inside me for longer.”
“Mhm”, he pecks your cheek, “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
“Then, don’t move. I’ll be back.”
He rolls off of you, giving your pussy a little kiss before he truly climbs off bed to hurry to the dresser.
“What on earth are you doing?” you ask him in a chuckle.
“Getting something so you can keep me inside.”
“And what will that be, mhm?”
He returns to you, climbing on top of you. You grab bundles of his hair, purring happily as he kisses you. The kiss lasts until your breath runs out, then it breaks and Seokjin disappears between your legs. You prop yourself up in your elbows.
“What are you doing?”
He lifts a clean silicone buttplug. You ogle it, gulping.
“I know your pussy’s strong enough to keep it inside for a little. Wanna have it?”
“Yes”, you say, opening your legs.
He takes the plug inside his mouth to wet it, letting go of it with a bop of his puffy lips. He connects it with your clit first, spanking it softly. You gasp and twitch, soon reaching down to his shoulder gently.
“Stop it you”, you laugh, “I’m too sensitive for your shenanigans.”
He chuckles and nuzzles his nose into your inner thigh, kissing your skin lovingly.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist”, he murmurs, giving you one last kiss before sitting up.
He connects the toy with your puffy hole and pushes it inside, making you moan softly and drop into the sheets in a sensual squirm.
“Mhhhm that’s nice. God, I love being plugged up with your cum still inside.”
“And I love knowing that something of mine is inside that warm heaven of yours”, he rasps, kissing a path up your body, “now come and let me kiss you.”
“Is it just me or is someone not sated yet?”
“When it comes to you? I’m like a spoiled house cat never happy with what its fed.”
You fall into the kiss laughing and smiling, twisting his hair gently.
#seokjin smut#seokjin fanfic#seokjin fanfiction#seokjin scenario#seokjin oneshot#seokjin x reader#seokjin x you#dom!seokjin#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts scenario#bts oneshot#bts x reader#bts x you#dom!bts#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fanfiction#bangtan oneshot#bangtan scenario#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you#dom!bangtan#fanfic: kinktober24
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Hi , Hope you are doing well
So a little arsenal/barca teen who is very possessive about her food blurb " if you guys keep touching my yoghurt , i will officially declare world war three"
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You're sitting at a table in the canteen, fiddling with the spoon in your hand, minding your business, when Mapi reaches across the table and dips her finger—her actual finger—into your yoghurt. You watch her do it, completely dumbfounded, your mind spinning, but you say nothing. Not at first, anyway. Just sit there, staring, as if witnessing some small yet world-shifting act of betrayal. The spoon you’re gripping is practically trembling in your hand, though you try to keep your composure. Your yoghurt is sacred. Everyone knows this. Everyone.
“Mate,” you say, deadpan, “if you guys keep touching my yoghurt, I will officially declare World War Three”
Your voice is flat, but it cuts through the room. Conversations stall. Aitana, sitting across from you, chokes on her water, and you see her wipe at her mouth, eyes wide like you’ve just casually threatened to end civilisation, which, to be fair, you kind of have. You didn’t even raise your voice.
Mapi looks at you like she doesn’t entirely get it. Doesn’t understand the unspoken rules of food and boundaries and personal space. But then again, Mapi doesn’t exactly do boundaries, which is why you once had to hide your protein bars under your bed for a week because she kept nicking them, just small, annoying little bites that went missing daily. You had to lie, saying the box ran out when you knew exactly who the culprit was.
“You’re serious?” Mapi says, smirking a little like you’re joking, like there’s no way you could be this protective of something as small as a cup of yoghurt.
You lock eyes with her. Don’t blink. Just take a slow breath and glance at your yoghurt, the spoon now resting carefully on the table like you’re preparing for some calculated strike. “Deadly”
Claudia, who’s been sitting to your left, eating her salad like she’s trying not to exist in this moment, just mutters, “We’re really doing this again?”
And you are doing this again, because this isn’t the first time you’ve had to give the food speech. No, the first time was when Ingrid thought it’d be funny to take one of your hard-boiled eggs without asking, as if eggs grow on trees or something. You had nearly combusted on the spot, but instead just sat there, stone-faced, while she apologised profusely like she'd run over your dog.
The thing is, they don’t get it. They don’t understand what it’s like to grow up in a house where your food always went missing, where you had to protect your snacks like they were state secrets because if you didn’t, someone else would get to them first. Older siblings. Friends. Even the dog, for God’s sake. So now, it’s instinct. A Pavlovian response. Touch my food, lose your hand.
Alexia’s sitting at the end of the table, watching the scene unfold like a slow-moving car crash. She raises an eyebrow at you, calm as ever, but there’s a flicker of amusement in her eyes. She’s seen this before. You before. Knows how this is going to go.
“You know,” Alexia says, tone smooth as silk, “there are other yoghurts in the fridge”
“Yeah," you respond, cutting her off. “And they’re all mine”
Mapi finally gives up with a little laugh, wiping her finger on a napkin, like she’s conceding to your madness. The table erupts in quiet chatter again, but you're still watching them, your yoghurt held in a near-death grip, spoon hovering over it like a defensive weapon.
This is war.
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Xaden: she was jealous that I’d been with Cat
Bohdi: right? so what did you do about it? Flowers? Chocolates?
Xaden: well she was too mad to have a civilised conversation about it
Garrick: so?
Xaden: so I got on my knees and did something I’d never done with Cat to prove a point then we talked..
Bohdi: that’s -
Violet: GENIUS IS WHAT IT IS
Imogen: I hate to agree but it was a pretty smart move
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I love to imagine the magic mountain bases all actually existing completely separately from each other in completely different time periods (almost), despite being physically in the same location.
In the ancient world, pyramids are constructed at the base of a huge volcano to honor the dead and worship old gods. A wide path leads to an entrance into the volcano, far enough in that the heat gets dangerous. Inside, sacrifices are made to the gods, to their king, offerings given up for the benefit of them all. The king is kind and forgiving, loyal to his people, asking for little and giving as much as he can. The gods however, are cruel, and all civilisations must fall eventually. For this one it's after a great eruption, one that shakes the earth with all the fury of the gods, that the pyramids become abandoned, left alone for centuries to erode. Over time new life grows, and thick jungles begin to hide the pyramids from view, until eventually, they’ve become a part of the natural landscape. Venture far enough in, however, and you might find remnants of the ancient civilisation: old writing in a language no one knows anymore, praises given to their old king; the remnants of ancient weapons and armour; the shapes of people who once lived forever preserved in ash and pumice.
~
It's the start of the industrial revolution, and rumours start spreading of an eclectic man and his steamrail full of exotic animals from across the globe. He’s a travelling zoo, of sorts, appearing in the strangest of places (as long as there's a railway line, he'll be there), areas it logically shouldn't be able to reach. He’s got all sorts of animals, from dolphins and turtles to strange, mysterious beasts. Where does he keep them all when they're not on the train? Some say he doesn't exist. others insist he does, that he lives underneath a mountain no one dares to visit. It's an active volcano, they say, dangerous to go near. If anyone dared to explore they might stumble upon the largest, most diverse collection of animals they've ever seen, and, most bizarrely, a large steam locomotive that runs on its own railway track, seemingly on a loop through the volcano itself. The tunnel is so dark the train disappears into it entirely. a young exploration group decide to find out for themselves, years later, and at first they think there's nothing there, until one of them stumbles upon the obvious remnants of a railway line, no longer in use but not so old that it's started to break down. Maybe he did exist after all...
~
In the late 1800s, a small fishing community establishes itself by the mountain. Electricity is new, and with the new machines and motors available to them the community quickly grows into a small village. Something is wrong, though. The rocks embedded in the mountain appear to resemble a skull more and more by the day, water streaming from one eye socket as though it’s crying. Underground passages and tunnels are found by the new residents, all leading to strange chambers. There's something in the water. A young man, one of the first in the village, disappears for a month, and when he returns, he's changed. He insists the ocean speaks to him, to everyone through him. He fishes for hours, days, weeks on end. When his madness begins infecting others, most gain the sense to stay away from him, but not everyone does. There's something in the water.
By the mid 1920s, the small fishing village is still standing, although most of the residents from four decades ago have since left. A young woman, traveling alone in her tiny fishing boat, docks at the village in need of repairs. What was meant to be a one night stay turns into days, then weeks, then months, as she begins to notice strange happenings in the village. A local artist has locked himself in his house, gone mad from something he found in the ocean. A scientist is experimenting with strange materials, and sometimes at night strange noises come from her house. There's something in the water. An older man speaks in tongues, driven mad by the sea. There's something in the water. The young fisher sees him occasionally, staring through her, unseeing. She's begun dreaming of ancient monsters in the depths of the water below her, reaching their long arms out and crushing her and everyone else. When she looks into the sea she can't see anything. It’s just inky blackness.
(No one knows how the village gets destroyed. One day it's here, and the next it's turned to rubble, razed to the ground by forces beyond human perception. It appears no one survived, but strangely, there's no trace of the small fishing boat the young woman had arrived in, nor of her body, and if anyone stopped for long enough in the wrecked city they might hear mumbling at night from underground, the mad ramblings of a man who has seen too much.)
~
Magic mountain row thrives in the early 2000s. They’ve beaten the Y2K bug (it really wasn't that much of a problem, anyway), business is booming at all the independent stores, and the local economy is better than ever. It doesn’t matter that not many people want to live here because new tech keeps Big Ron busy, and Willie Jr is old enough to start working at his father's shop, preparing himself to take over the business. The safe storage containers are always a little open, but nothing ever really goes missing, because no new people means everyone knows everyone. A young boy visits his neighbours for the last time before he leaves with his family; his dad's got a better job somewhere far away and they have to leave now, and besides it’s safer not to live by a barely-dormant volcano (it’s not as cool, though). His new neighbourhood has a lot more kids his age, but he can't help but miss the eccentric nature of his old neighbours. He returns to his childhood home twenty years later to find it empty. Most of magic mountain row is empty now, actually. There are a few places still open: Big Ron refuses to close up shop because Willie Jr, who has taken over the business now that his father's passed, still needs his help from time to time. Anyone still living here is merely clinging to a past they remember so fondly they can't adapt for the future. They're happy, though. They’re happy to remain here until it's their time to go.
~
In the not-so-distant future, a dense city is formed on the mountain. It started out as a smaller town, with traditional architecture and shrines dotted around the place, but as technology advanced and society progressed it grew and evolved into towering skyscrapers, holographic billboards, a rail system that winds through buildings and above streets. Elements of the past still remain - lush gardens lined with cherry blossom trees, the old shrines and temples still standing, a mark of the city's history and longevity. The city stands the longest, weathers the strongest storms, grows and evolves and changes, but all must come to an end, eventually. A rumbling in the earth, a once-dormant volcano waking from its slumber. They have the tech to know it's coming, now, so they all flee before it can hit. Only one man stays behind. This is his city. This is his home. He built this entire place from the ground up, and he’s not going to leave it behind. He makes his way to one of the shrines. Praying to his goddess, he leaves her one final offering, and when the ash settles all trace of him is gone.
~
The apocalypse happens in a future beyond our reckoning. A city lies, abandoned by most, on top of the ruins of civilisations that came before. Once a lively hub of activity and tech and innovation, the city has become a ghost town, occupied only by the artificial intelligences that had driven humanity out. They wander aimlessly, mimicking the behaviours of the humans they used to watch and help, protecting the inner core of their city that keeps everything, including themselves, alive. The humans reside elsewhere, in a bunker resembling the old world, with more vegetation and life than the city had despite being hidden underground. The city’s architects reassure everyone that they’ll be able to return someday soon. The one who designed the robots, a man more cyber than human by this point, just needs to fix a few issues with their programming. He doesn’t want to destroy them but he might have to. His partner, who designed most of the city, will need to commence repairs before anyone can live in the city again. So they leave, vowing to fix the city so that everyone can return to society. No one knows they will never return.
#i started including some of them as characters in their own bases and had to make it like that for all of them#i cant help myself#also grian and gem's are linked bc their bases are just SO connected to me#also some of them might be implied to be immortal or gods or uh. fae-type-magical#again. i cant help it#grian#geminitay#skizzleman#goodtimeswithscar#gtwscar#smallishbeans#mumbo jumbo#impulsesv#bdoubleo100#hermitcraft#hc 10#magic mountain#long post#mine#this is 1.5k words btw my bad
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The cold feels like home
Loki x Reader
Masterlist
Notes: Just felt cute, it's all floofy and comfort. I'm holding out hope that we might actually get some snow where I live this year.
Warnings: Nilt.
Come here. Now.
Loki never texted you like that. Was he mad at you? What had happened? You'd left him downstairs loading the dishes when you went to bed. Why hadn’t he just called up the stairs? Was he hurt?
Your phone pinged again.
QUICKLY
You jumped out of bed, bolting down the stairs two at a time. Running straight down the hallway and into the kitchen, you burst in the door, only to find…
He wasn’t there.
Fuck.
Where was he?
You did a lap of the house in record time. Not in the living room, not in the dining room, not hallway, not bedroom, bathroom, spare bedroom, where the fuck was he? It was by pure chance that you saw the outside light flare up. It was motion censored, so the foxes would set it off at random points. But it just so happened to illuminate the figure at the end of your garden, gazing up into the winter sky. Loki.
You went back down the stairs and wandered down the garden. It was a freezing night, so much so that snow had just started to slowly drift down from the sky. And there, in the middle of your lawn, dressed in only a pair of cotton pajama trousers, was your husband. The snow settled on his cold skin, turning him blue piece by piece. His eyes were closed, and you could see the little snowflakes had settled on his lashes. His skin had begun to change, it had more ridges and patterns adorning it, like some kind of beautiful tapestry. There was snow in his hair too, more noticeable because of the contrast between it and his dark locks. He looked so tranquil, so completely at peace, it was unlike you’d ever seen him before.
You reached out to take his hand. He was colder than usual- he was always cold, but when he was in his asgardian form it was far less noticeable. You were able to trace the markings on his hand with your thumb, look at how detailed they were. It wasn’t often he let you see him like this so when you do, you always try and make it count.
“I wonder if this is what it’s like on Jotunheim.” he says, breaking the silence. His eyes are still closed, his face still pointed skyward.
“Have you ever been?” you ask.
“Never”
“Wouldn’t you like to go?” you say, wondering what it would be like to not know where you came from.
“And to what avail?” he replies. “There’s nothing there, as far as anyone could tell. When Asgard too their power supply, they had nothing to keep their society running. All it’s been since is savagery. It was barely civilised before; I dread to think what it’s come to now.”
You stand there in silence a little longer. “What if it’s not like that?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” he says “They’re all savages. They aren’t-”
“How do you know that Loki? How can you say that about your people?”
“They’re not my people.” he spat.
“Perhaps not. But you are one of them. You are their rightful king. Maybe they are savage, I certainly don’t know. But haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like? To look like how you are now and to just.... be?”
He doesn’t respond. You stand by him, watching the world slowly get painted white. Snow really did make everything look beautiful.
“Would you go?” he asks. “If you were in my shoes?”
“Yes. If nothing is gained, at least you know where you came from. And if you did go,” you add, “I hope you go and realise you don’t have to hide this part of you. I hope you realise how beautiful you look in your own skin.”
“Do I really look beautiful to you like this?” he says, looking down at you with those beautiful ruby eyes.
“Yes.”
“But I'm a monster.”
“Loki,” you chide “you are not a monster. You couldn’t be. You keep out everyone because you’re scared they’ll realise the same as I do- that you’re actually not the cold-hearted villain. Easier to play the bad guy that make the tough decisions trying to be the good guy.”
“You really believe that?”
You ponder it. “I have to. I love you. I married you. I want to be with you forever. How could I possibly tie myself to you if I thought you were evil?”
He smiles. “Ok. Maybe I'm not a monster.”
“You’re either my husband or a monster. You have to pick one.”
“Oh, monster obviously.” he teases. You just slap him playfully.
“C’mon slimer, lets go to bed.”
“Slimer’s a ghost, not a monster.”
You huff. “Well, your both perpetually covered in green.”
“I’m actually blue right now.”
“Smartarse.”
He chuckles. “If this petty arguing is all I get for being a monster, I should’ve picked husband.”
“Too late now.”
He spins you around and gives you puppy eyes. “Pretty please? I promise I'll be a good husband.”
you smile back at him. “You’re already the best,” you say, pressing your lips to his.
#loki fic#loki#loki x reader#loki x y/n#loki laufeyson#loki odinson#tom hiddelston loki#mcu loki#tom hiddleston#loki fanfic
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Dating Soap HCS: (Combatant!Reader)
A/N: Shoving in there all the thoughts I've had about him and couldn't squeeze into my current fic ideas.
When I say Combatant!Reader, I mean they can fight/kill/use a gun but aren't part of the Task Force nor a soldier.
SFW:
Two words: power couple. You guys could take on the world if you wanted, so good for the world that you’re part of the good guys.
Soap is one of those freaks who’s out of bed by 6 a.m on his days off and starts the day with a jog. He can’t help it, he’s got energy to spare and is addicted to the endorphin he gets from it. Before meeting him you’d have said that a partner up so early was a pain; but how could you be mad at him when he takes such care to not wake you up, and has coffee and a mouth-watering breakfast ready when you emerge? You enter the kitchen where he rewards you with the luscious view of his sculpted body covered in sweat, having already shed his shirt, then sneaks an arm around your shoulders to press an adoring kiss against your temple, along with a “G’morning, Bonnie.” before heading to the shower.
Sometimes you show up unannounced on base - well not completely unannounced cause you’d get shot -, barge into the sparring room like you own the place - and considering the company you keep, you might as well -, and hit all its occupants with a “What’s up losers?”. Before anyone else can react, Soap’s already leaping over the ring’s ropes and running to you, hugging you with so much enthusiasm that your feet leave the ground. “Ye didnae say ye were comin’!” His voice booms with unadulterated joy. “Yeah, that’s called a surprise MacTavish. Now let go of me, you stink.” He throws you a cocky, challenging smirk at that: “Make me.” His voice is way lower, intended for your ears only this time. The glint in his eyes, as he’s staring right into yours, is just as provocative as his smile. You retort with your own. “I could, but I would hate to humiliate you in front of the new recruits, Sergeant.” Cue Ghost, joining you by walking like a civilised human being, and already sick of your flirting. “If you two are done makin’ a spectacle of yourselves, we could have a smoke outside.” There’s no real heat to his words though.
During some evenings at the base when Ghost snuck up God only knows where, Soap, Gaz and you compete to see who can do the best impression of the Lieutenant. Soap’s in the lead with the advantage to be the one having exchanged the most words with Simon, but you’re confident you can turn it around.
Will touch you all the fucking time (except on missions), whether it’s an arm around your shoulder, or your waist, or a hand in the back pocket of your pants, or holding your hand. Will restrain himself if you’re against it but if he can’t cuddle in private he will be sad.
No PDA on missions, but he will definitely flirt over coms. You’re both skilled enough that you can afford to fuck around a bit while still doing your job expertly.
Talking about flirting, he is smooth… until the other person reciprocates. Then he needs a moment to get back in the saddle after short-circuiting.
Fervently loyal. If someone comes onto him, he will reject them frankly. And if they dare to bad-mouth you, they’re getting an earful from him.
The rare fights you have are intense but brief. He always wants to apologise as soon as possible afterwards but he gives you your space if you need it.
You patch each other up after missions. One day you pore over each other’s scars during a lazy morning in bed, asking how the other got them.
He loooves seeing you put assholes in their place. He’s so fucking proud and aroused. Tend to snap at them faster than you though. And if you’re not in the mood to fight, he will gladly take over. “You know I can fight. Pleaaase let me fight”
Your #1 supporter. Will Smith showing off his wife.meme. He admires you a lot. Not as much as Ghost, sure, but that’s still a lot. If you wanna try new things, especially thrills inducing ones like canyoning or bungee jumping, or push back your own limits in the gym or in combat prowess, he’s always down and so, so enthusiastic. First because he’s so thrilled to share these with you, and second because he relishes in seeing you become a better version of yourself and/or the person you wanna be.
He’s proud of his job and will rant about it for hours if you ask about it. Especially explosions. Your idea of a romantic evening is taking in the sunset with a couple of explosions fireworks.
He’s a freaking sunshine and sometimes the light feels blinding. You worry you’re bringing him down. He has such an optimistic outlook on life, and you… simply don’t. You also fear that one day he realises he’s too good for you, whether it’s in terms of looks, personality, morals, or mental resilience… he’s always quick to appease your worries though.
Not getting along with the TF would be a deal breaker. Not that he’s expecting you to become BFF with Ghost or anything, that role is already taken by him
Will not hesitate to use his sad puppy eyes on you. Or even pout. To get what he wants.
He demands a kiss for good luck before every mission, a bit lOUDLY, which makes Ghost rolls his eyes and Gaz makes gagging sounds. Price is just like "Lord Give Me Patience".
NSFW:
Don’t be afraid to (wo)manhandle him: pulling his hair, slamming him against a wall, grabbing his jaw… that will make him moan more often than not.
Call him a good/pretty boy, praise him, tease him, make him beg… He will tease back to challenge you but it just means you should keep going.
He’s a good soldier, he follows orders well. Do with that what you will.
Endless stamina. Will wear you out first every time.
Gets off when he gets you off.
Did I mention that he’s terribly competitive? Will ask you what’s the highest number of orgasms you had in one night and will immediately try to beat that record.
If he doesn't make you laugh at least once during the do, he has FailedTM 😔
#mine#john soap mactavish#soap cod#soap x reader#soap mw2#cod#cod mw2#cod x reader#call of duty#cod headcanons#cod hcs#cod smut#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#soap x you#johnny soap mctavish x you#cod x you#headcanon#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#soap x y/n#johnny mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x you
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SAGAU-adjacent not-Creator Creator 4
Summary: You knew, viscerally down to your bones, that you did not create this world; Teyvat had no grand creator, no single hand designing its wonders. It did, however, have something of a catalytic agent, without which it would not exist.
You.
[Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]
You separated from Diluc that morning. Despite Alatus -- Xiao -- offering to teleport you straight to Liyue Harbor, you preferred to take your time. It had been untold millennia, after all, since you had experienced a world’s bounties for yourself, and even longer since you had a physical body to do it with. You wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.
Walking through Guili Planes was... an experience. The crumbling ruins were of a different style from the civilisation you saw upon your arrival, but it was a grim reminder that Liyue, like Mondstadt, had not been wholly peaceful during its existence. Unfortunately, you had the feeling that the rest of Teyvat was similar.
Xiao was ever present by your side. He would occasionally divert you from your path, which you assumed was to avoid monsters, though it wasn’t necessary. You allowed it for several reasons: one, the poor guy was stressed enough; two, he didn’t know of the affection Teyvat’s creatures held for you; and three, you did come across corpses, meaning someone was in the area killing them.
For your part you were wholly unworried -- slimes had already proven their refusal to harm you and you expected other creatures born of Teyvat to be the same. It was humans, and creatures born of humans, that you were concerned by.
(To your slight surprise, this included hilichurls. Despite being classified as monsters by Teyvat at large, they were too human, too sapient, to be overwhelmed by Teyvat’s love for you.)
It wasn’t a shock for you to eventually come upon the one slaughtering all the monsters in the area. What was a surprise was that it was all done by a single person.
You watched a ginger-haired young man wielding blades of Hydro rip his way through a hilichurl camp. He was a storm in motion, striking then dancing away from retaliation, every step trailed by an eye-catching red scarf. Beneath you, Geo rumbled, Ajax Tartaglia, child of the devouring deep, Hydro, more Abyss than human.
Xiao tensed.
As soon as the last hilichurl fell, the man pivoted to face you with a relaxed stance, one hand still absently spinning a Hydro blade. “You know, if you wanted a show, I’d be plenty happy to show you up close and personal,” he leered with a pointed swing of his blade.
“Impertinent,” Xiao hissed, looking like he was one taunt away from lunging. The man only laughed.
You looked between the two of them. There was bad blood there, you could tell. ...How interesting. “Who is he, Xiao?”
Surprisingly, the adeptus was able to tense even more. Slowly, flatly, he replied, “He is the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers, and dangerous.” Unsaid was his intense desire to take you elsewhere or drive him away.
Instead of acknowledging that, you turned to the Eleventh Harbinger. “That’s not a name,” you observed.
“Tartaglia at your service -- but please, call me Childe.”
He certainly suited the name. Pretty, boyish, young; there was a madness in him too, one that was incompatible with the Teyvat around you but might not be out of place in the depths where you slumbered. Maybe, if he was amenable to a trip home, you might have a companion on your journey to the world’s roots. “A pleasure to meet you. I am--”
“The sun is setting,” Xiao interrupted. It was such a change from his previous deference that you just blinked at him for several seconds.
“...That’s true,” you said slowly when he didn’t continue, “are we close enough to Liyue Harbor to get there tonight?”
“Oh definitely not,” Childe said, now strolling closer while completely ignoring Xiao’s darkening expression. You were sure that the only thing stopping Xiao from violently removing Childe was your presence. “So why don’t we share a campfire for the night? I make a mean seafood soup!”
You didn’t know how you ended up sitting by a fire with two men glaring daggers at each other. Or rather, Xiao glared daggers while Childe responded with goading smirks.
Dinner had been as delicious as promised, though it looked more like a scene of carnage than you had expected. It held only the basest of resemblances with the Calla Lily Seafood Soup you remembered from Mondstadt. Xiao, for some reason, did not receive a portion.
Childe’s actions did make you curious. Mondstadt’s people had greeted you with a festival and Xiao with deep respect, which had made you suspect that everyone on Teyvat could recognise you as their supposed ‘Creator’ on sight, but Childe hadn’t. Either he was the only person in the world who didn’t buy into the cult, or there was something else going on.
...On reflection, the people without Visions whom you met during your first day in Liyue didn’t treat you as anyone particularly special either, while those with Visions tended to be friendlier. As evidenced by Childe. Mondstadt didn’t count, you had been presented to them as the Creator from the start.
You were presented as the Creator, that was the key. They probably didn’t possess a mythical Creator radar. Fortunately.
But someone had to have sensed you, otherwise you would never have left the island you woke on. As a dragon, Dvalin wasn’t a surprise, and Venti... the Archons. Of course. Didn’t you note the traces of your power in Venti and the statues of him and Morax yourself? There were sparks of it in the Visions too, but nothing as strong as those in the Archons and Statues of Seven.
If the Statues held enough of your power for you to resonate with them, and the Archons were connected to the statues made in their image, everything could be explained. The only mystery was why Morax didn’t show up in person.
He couldn’t be dead, because Liyue still stood. He couldn’t not know of you, because he sent Xiao. And if he was busy directing preparations for your celebratory feast, as Xiao had implied, then that showed a gross miscalculation of priorities uncharacteristic for someone who had ruled this nation for nigh on 4000 local solar orbits. You weren’t offended -- there was no such thing as a Creator in the first place -- but you were quite curious.
The next day, your group expanded from two to three. Childe insisted on tagging along, to Xiao’s consternation, and couldn’t be chased away. They got along like cats and dogs and it was entertaining to watch.
The bickering lasted all the way until you reached the hill overlooking the bridge leading into Liyue Harbor. Every building was bedecked with lanterns and banners as far as the eye could see, just as festive as Mondstadt yet with their own distinct style. You stopped in your tracks.
Childe shrugged. “They got this done in the last few days, not sure what it’s for. There’s still a few months until the Lantern Rite.”
You did not want to walk through the streets to be gawked at, whether that be due to your own identity or those of your companions. You turned to the adeptus among you. “Xiao, can you bring us straight to the venue?” you requested.
He nodded and held out his hand, but only after you looked pointedly at Childe did he reluctantly grip the Harbinger’s arm as well. You would take what you could get.
“Hey, wait--”
Before Childe could voice the rest of his objection, you took Xiao’s hand and the three of you disappeared on the spot.
You rematerialised in an octagonal plaza facing a large building, which a plaque informed you was Yiyan Temple. Behind you, Childe stumbled, to Xiao’s audible ridicule; you knew without looking that Childe must have gestured something rude in return.
Two people in armoured uniforms saluted and opened the doors. You could sense significant amounts of Geo pulsating out from something within, as well as sparks of your power emanating from Visions among the crowd that glittered like stars to your senses. There was also a torch’s worth of your power -- an Archon. Morax. Though you hardly registered their appearances, luxurious as their clothes were, as Geo clamoured to introduce these personages to you.
Morax, earth dragon, Geo Archon, adeptus, a void where there was once god-heart-gnosis.
Ningguang, human, Geo, born of Liyue.
Cloud Retainer, crane, Anemo, adeptus, bound to the Lord of Geo.
Keqing, human, Electro, born of Liyue.
There were more, and you filed each of them away even as Morax and Ningguang bowed simultaneously, followed shortly by everyone else. “Your Grace the Primordial Architect,” Morax said in his deep voice, “this one is honoured to welcome thine self to the land of Geo.”
“Your Grace?” Childe repeated, quietly but with feeling.
Right, you had never actually introduced yourself to him because Xiao had interrupted. Withholding a sigh, you ordered some Anemo to whisper in his ear, “In short, I’m not the Creator, there is no Creator, I’ll explain later.” Then you turned your attention to the Archon. “Please, rise,” you said to all of them. This reception was getting a little more intense than Mondstadt's.
[Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]
Taglist: @fantasyhopperhea // @silverstar56 // @lexal-amber-rose // @noblessejjk // @neo-meta // @etherisy // @strangeygirl
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how would arcane characters play bg3
jayce
- human fighter
- had 1 normal playthrough
- after that does challenges like "can you beat bg3 without killing anyone/without long resting/fighting with salami only"
- slept with mizora. had no idea it would make his romamce option did him
- dated lae'zel bc she approached him first and he was too intimidated to say no
viktor
- barrelmancer
- killed raphael in act 1 with gale's corpse for xp
- eats tadpoles like candy
- his guardian looks like jayce
- would really like to build a steel watcher now
caitlyn
- chooses honor mode right away, doesn't rest until she gets her golden dice. died several times already
- spends a lot of time on thorough and balanced character builds
- saves right at the finale to see every mad ending
- can't stop choosing karlach in every playthrough
jinx
- creates a new character every 4 hours or so bc she gets bored
- it's always a durge
- never been to the emerald grove
- just ends up watching vi play to be honest
ekko
- has a 100 saves to see every dialogue option in 1 playthrough
- not the evil ones tho.
- pets scratch about 78 times before every long rest
- is superrrr reluctant to kill orin. wants to fix her
vi
- origin playthrough bc she doesn't want to be herself
- ends up choosing karlach (ironic)
- shart romance
- punches her laptop for the first time after seeing karlach parents' grave
- second time is gortash
- let's just say it didn't turn out well
mel
- mod queen
- bard
- "kill yourself" tactic
bonus: silco and vander have a 1:1 in sid meyer's civilisation
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#arcane#jayce talis#viktor#caitlyn kiramman#vi arcane#jinx#ekko#mel medarda#silco#vander#karlach#shadowheart#orin the red
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Thinking of the timeloop au again
There are some loops where Evbo doesn’t ‘save’ parkour civilisation and just stays in the void to watch as everything proceeds without him, how the evil champion remains or where Void ends up defeating the evil champion through his own ‘luck’ (Evbo’s influence) but always gets defeated by Clown, or Seawatt ends up losing…Evbo can’t help but admit he likes those ones more then any other. Other times, he visits Clown and stays with him in his torment but is silent as clown talks and talks and talks.
Most of the time it’s curses that spew from his mouth as he pulls at his chains to get closer to Evbo, to wrap his hands around the others neck while Evbo watches him in silence. Hatred burning brightly in him as Evbo watches him and struggles against the chains that he barely notices the moment when Evbo just floats closer to him and gently grabs at his face, something that makes his rage stutter as his heart freezes. It’s a long unbearable amount of silence before Evbo let’s go and leaves him.
Then there’s the times, those small desperate times, that he begs the other to speak, to say anything to him and Evbo just watches it with passive interest. Clown can barely stand the silence when he has another living, breathing person there that he can just barely reach and it drives him mad. His hands shaking as he tries to reach for Evbo and it’s just to feel that another person is there as his chains rattle with him, something that confirms he’s still alive and breathing and hasn’t died yet. That he’s alive.
Evbo always stands just barely out of reach, just barely enough that Clown grabs his pants while kneeling down as his hands shake.
#parkour civilization#parkour civilisation#evbo#clownbo#parkour villain#clown slowly going through both hatred and the desire to feel#another persons touch#skin hungry#while evbo grows ever more passive in his own godhood#just imagine the imagery of a kneeling clown with his chains pulling against him as he presses his#head into Evbo clothed leg while Evbo places a hand on his head
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I know a lot of people find it boring how much Halsin talks about nature, and I do get it- it is repetitive. However, I also find that if you break some of his statements down into what he's implying, you end up with something a lot more interesting. (ESPECIALLY because a lot of these support the "Halsin is autistic" interpretation.)
Take, for example, Halsin talking about his place in the world, specifically relating to relationships:
Halsin: I still have hot blood in my veins. Nature gifted us our desires, and the means to act on them. But we muddied its beautiful simplicity with rules, social strictures... clothes. So, I am not bound to nature. I am unbound in nature.
Halsin: Relationship? Such terms belong to civilisation - a little unfamiliar to my lips. You know what we share is more fluid, more founded in the principles of nature.
Implications: Halsin finds society too complicated. He enjoys nature because its rules are simpler and more sensical; rather than social rules and structures that are beyond him (especially when you take into account the autistic Halsin interpretation), he feels comforted by nature, which is complex in a way that he understands.
There's also Halsin's friendship with Thaniel.
Halsin: I had a friend when I was young, long ago. He played with me in the forests where I grew up... but eventually, I realised no one else had heard of him. It was Thaniel, of course. Nature was my very first friend. I get older, but he hasn't changed a day. I knew then that I had to be more than a companion to him. I had to be a protector.
Implications: Nature, by being Halsin's first friend, has always been what Halsin is comforted by. It has been a steady and comforting presence for him, something he can rely in, in contrast to other people who are unpredictable. Nature is consistent and comforting for him.
Halsin, infamously, is not happy in the city of Baldur's Gate.
Halsin: Too much noise, too many lanterns kept burning... nature's rhythm is ignored here.
Implications: Halsin is overstimulated easily by excessive noise and other sensory inputs. Nature provides him somewhere quiet.
Halsin: I wish... I wish there was a better way. I wish everyone could see the sun, have a full belly, and know nature as a friend. There is a balance that is yet to be found.
Implications: Again, Halsin sees nature- not just Thaniel, but all of nature- as a friend. A source of comfort and companionship.
Halsin: I think on [politics and high art] also. But nothing matches the splendour of an ancient tree.
Implications: Halsin loves the beauty of the natural world as much as anything else. Rather than art or music (which he can appreciate), what he prefers is something that grew rather than being made.
Halsin: I am... less anxious to find myself in a city. So removed from nature's power - I do not know how I will fare.
Implications: Not only does Halsin prefer not to be in the city, but he is actually, to some extent, frightened of it (likely due to how overstimulating it is for him), in contrast with his feeling of being right at home in nature.
There's other things to note as well. If a Dark Urge player embraces Bhaal and then tells Halsin to bow, Halsin has this to say:
Halsin: Nature bows to none. It will fight on and survive, no matter what madness your god has inspired you to undertake.
Implications: Halsin views nature as strength, and admires that very much. He draws a lot of his tougher qualities from this aspect of the natural world.
Or a line where Wyll gently points out that he talks about nature a lot:
Halsin: When you care about something deeply enough, it consumes every thought and word.
Implications: Halsin isn't thinking of little else besides nature because he's "boring"; it's because it's important to him. (A special interest, one might say.) And when something is deeply important to a person, they think of everything else in relation to that thing; think of a sports fan who constantly uses sports metaphors to understand the world around them.
There's another party banter with Wyll that is telling when combined with what he has to say about the city, too.
Halsin: It is most unfair to pour such scorn on rats - they have their place in nature, same as you or I.
Halsin: I thought cities were supposed to welcome folk of all walks of life. Clearly I was mistaken.
Implications: Halsin feels everyone has a place in the natural world, yet that the city shuns those it deems different. As someone who has struggled greatly with fitting in/finding a place he "belongs", Halsin feels more sympathetic to nature, where all living things belong, than anywhere else.
I think that when you break up Halsin's love of nature into all the little things it implies, it paints a much more interesting picture of him, personally. It also supports the "Halsin is autistic" interpretation, which makes him even MORE interesting.
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