#Worlds Strangely Inhabited

[pieofdeath]

HELLO PIE BELOVED PLEASE DO “Worlds Strangely Inhabited” FOR THE ASK GAME, YOU’VE TALKED ABOUT IT A BIT ON DISCORD BUT I WOULD LOVE TO KNOW MORE 👀

HIIII ok ok!!! SO.

For those that have not gotten my discord dm rambles: Worlds Strangely Inhabited is my DSMP x Hermitcraft swap au! It's inspired by the trend of drawing hermitcraft members like they were in a sadist animatic that went around.... god, years ago now.

It takes place during the mayoral race and mycelium resistance in s7, and the election and pogtopia on the dsmp, but it starts in s9, with the Rift. There's a little bit of time travel flavor in here as well.

It's hermitcraft in the style of the dsmp- so, all the events are taken seriously and dramatically. It's dsmp in the style of hermitcraft- so, everyone is having a silly time!

But... something feels. wrong. This isn't the way this is supposed to go, is it? The members of both servers keep getting sick, and tensions flare as the dream smp members remember a worse world and the hermitcraft members remember one that could be better. Grumbot remembers something- someone? important that he can't find, and everyone has been getting sense memories of people they don't know. Something is wrong.

Snippet:

The Rift is not alone.

There are many of it- when worlds seams are too thin, its purple light seeps in and makes a home in the nooks and crannies. 

Pulsing.

Breathing.

The Rift can breathe- The Bird subjected it to hours of experiments on that topic alone. It doesn’t have lungs, but it can breathe.

So, it breathes.

And waits.

It waits, and it thinks, if it could think, that even though it is not alone, it is lonely.

It’s a stretch to say the Rift thinks, and the Bird hasn’t decisively proved if it does. But if it could think, if it could feel, it’d say that it thinks it’s bored. It’d say that it thinks it’s angry, lonely, exhausted, feeling every emotion all at once in the way things as vast as the Rift do, but it’d be feeling lonely the hardest.

[mothdotz]

Little Guy(s)

[bet-on-me-13]

Undead Galaxy

So! Within the Ghost Zone, there exists a Lair unlike any other.

To a Ghost, a Lair is supposed to be an integral part of their Existence. When a Ghost Builds their Lair, they take a part of the Ghost Zone Itself and mold it into a Realm of their own, transforming it into a reflection of their Core.

As such, a Lair usually matches the personality, and more importantly the Obsessions, of the Ghost it was created by. It is meant to be the Eternal Home of the one who built it, a place to spend the rest of their eternal unlife, and as such it needs to be able to fulfill the Ghosts Obsessions.

Think of Skulkers Lair, an Island Jungle filled to the brim with Monsters and Beasts of all sorts, ready and waiting to be hunted down and skinned. The perfect home for a ghost with an Obsession based on Hunting.

Some take this a step farther, like the Ancients (which is just another name used for Gods in the Zone), who transform their Lairs into Entirely Seperate Afterlives for others to inhabit. Hades, Osiris, the Demon Lords of the various Hells, they all took this approach.

But there is a problem. For beings like God's, who are sustained by Worship, what would happen if their world were to die? If the planet their people resided on were to be hit by an asteroid, or blown up by an Alien warlord?

A God without its worship would Fade, and as such the Afterlife they used to maintain would fall apart as well. The Millions of Souls who trusted that God to protect them in death would be left to the mercy of the Void between Afterlives. Somebody decided that they didn't like that, and stepped in.

Within the Ghost Zone exists a Galaxy.

A Galaxy where all the souls and Afterlives of worlds that have died continue to exist. Worlds that were destroyed by a cataclysmic War that resulted in both sides dying, by unstable Mining Practices destabilize the Core, by a Psychic Virus that wiped out all life on Planet leaving a baren husk.

When their populations died, and the Gods who maintained their afterlives would have faded, they were saved by another and brought into his Lair.

The Ghost King, Phantom.

He was a spirit with two simple Obsessions. The Protection of others, and the Majesty of Space.

But there was no Space in the Ghost Zone, only the Infinite void. So he made his own. He constructed a Lair of incredible size, decorating it with Stars and Planets and Supernova and Nebula. He recreated the Majesty of the Space he adored, and the invited the wandering souls of dead worlds to enjoy it with him.

He gave them planets of their own within the Unliving Galaxy. All the souls of crumpled afterlives wandering the Ghost Zone were allowed to recreate it again, to find eachother and build their communities again.

With this he could fulfill both of his Obsessions at the same time, and he would he doing his duty as their king by helping his subjects.

He saw it as an absolute win.

...

They had been trapped in this strange dimension for days now.

Nobody had any idea how they ended up there. Clark had just fallen asleep, Diana was training, Hal was on patrol. Even J'onn himself was on Moniter Duty, when the next thing he knew they were all waking up on a floating purple rock in a Lazarus green void.

Thankfully Constantine that had been dragged alongside him when J'onn when he was taken, and managed to explain that they were in some kind of void in-between the afterlives.

"The Ghost Zone" "The Unending End" "The Collective Dead", it went by many names apparently. The most famous name for it was "The Infinite Realms", named for the way the infinite souls residing there would build their own personal Realms, or Lairs, to spend eternity in.

Not even he knew how they had ended up there. Constantine was confident that they hadn't died recently (the fact they needed to use "recently" was a sad thought), so it wasn't the old fashioned way at the very least.

Still, they needed to get moving. This place was dangerous and they didn't want to stay in one place for too long.

After days of traveling across the strange void (had they even eaten since they arrived there?) Constantine finally caught a hint of something. There was a draw on them, pulling them towards a specific direction. They had been unconsciously following it for days now, and now that they knew what they were doing they soldiered on even faster. If there were answers wherever they were being drawn, they would find them.

Once it came into view, it was obvious what had been calling to them this entire time. It was massive.

Spanning across the endless horizon, they could see something that looked like a Galaxy spanning in front of them. From their position on a floating island, they could see it in all its glory. Contrasting the green they had become accustomed to, the Galaxy swirled in a variety of Bright Blues and Deep Purples, with multicolored stars shining so brightly they stood out even as far as they were from it.

It took all their breaths away, and J'onn would admit to having stood there staring for longer than he should have. It was just so starkly different than anything he had seen thus far in this dimension of greens and purples.

"Beautiful isn't it?"

In an Instant their weapons were drawn and fighting stances set, facing the person who had appeared in their midst.

He was a young man, seemingly in his early 20's, with snow white hair and Lazarus green eyes. Above his head sat a crown glowing the same color as the galaxy spanning in front of them. They all knew instantly that this man was connected to it on a deep level.

"Who are you" Asked Diana. Her thoughts were filled with theat assessments and carefulness. She thought he was strong.

"Oh, my name is Phantom." He replied, "Sorry for startling you, this is one of my favorite spots to stargaze and I forgot that normal people usually can't see me when I zone out like that."

"What is that?" Clark asked, pointing to the Galactic Structure on the horizon. He was curious. The man before they didn't act hostile, so he had decided to match his energy.

"Oh, that's my Galaxy. Like it?" He asked excitedly, "Took me ages to get it looking just right, but I'm so proud of the results."

"Do you know why we are here?" Asked Hal, his mind was swimming with worry over his Sector of space. He had been taken while patrolling it. He wanted to get back quickly.

"I didn't bring you here, if that's what you're asking." He replied evenly, "But I know who did. They wanted to see you again, but with their Realms crumbled and their people scattered, they never had the chance. Now they do, and they wanted to say hello again. Sorry about the long journey, they messed up the Summoning process and you ended up a bit farther than intended."

"Who summoned us?" Asked Constantine warily. His thoughts were full of the various demons and gods he knew inhabited these Realms. He was worried.

"Well, You, accidently got dragged along through proximity, sorry." He apologized to the magician, "But as for the rest of you? Well, you'll just have to wait and see for yourselves. Trust me, it'll be a welcome surprise."

"Can you tell us where can we find the ones who summoned us?" Asked J'onn finally. He was curious, and wary, of who had decided to pull them into this dimension. But if the man before them was being truthful, then he wanted to meet them.

"Just keep following that pulling sensation that brought you here, you'll find them." He said, "I'll stay here for a while longer though. Just want to stargaze a bit more."

They left him on the island and kept going.

As the approached the Galaxy, it dawned on them how truly massive the realm in front of them was. Hal confirmed that it wasn't as big as a real one, but even he was in awe at its size.

As they drew closer is quickly became apparent that they were being drawn in different directions. After a quick discussion they decided it was best to split up.

J'onn approached the Planet he was being drawn to, and realized very quickly that it very closely resembled his old homeworld, Mars. The Red Sands, the Rocky Terrain, the two Moons that could be seen orbiting the planet, all of it seemed tailor made to resurface memories of his destroyed home.

It took all of a second for all of it to come together in his head.

The allusions Phantom had made to his summoners missing him. The resemblance to his old Homeworld. The fact he was currently in a version of the Afterlife.

As he made the connection in his head, he felt another two connections form. Ones he had not felt in the the Centuries since he had lost them.

"Hello, J'onn."

"...M'yri'ah..." His wife.

"Hi dad."

"...K'hym..." His Daughter.

It took nearly a full minute before his mind calmed enough to send them a response. It was a Whirlwind of wild thoughts, fear of this being a trick, and above all hope that it was real.

Eventually, he finally managed a response.

"I missed you."

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: black science fiction

As february and black history month nears its end, if you're a reader let's not forget to read and appreciate books by black authors the rest of the year as well! If you're a sci-fi fan like me, perhaps this list can help find some good books to sink your teeth into.

Bleak dystopias, high tech space adventures, alien monsters, alternate dimensions, mash-ups of sci-fi and fantasy - this list features a little bit of everything for genre fiction fans!

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor

Something massive and alien crashes into the ocean off the coast of Nigeria. Three people, a marine biologist, a rapper, and a soldier, find themselves at the center of this presence, attempting to shepherd an alien ambassador as chaos spreads in the city. A strange novel that mixes the supernatural with the alien, shifts between many different POVs, and gives a one of a kind look at a possible first contact.

Nubia: The Awakening (Nubia series) by Omar Epps & Clarence A. Hayes

Young adult. Three teens living in the slums of an enviromentally ravaged New York find that something powerful is awakening within them. They’re all children of refugees of Nubia, a utopian African island nation that sank as the climate worsened, and realize now that their parents have been hiding aspects of their heritage from them. But as they come into their own, someone seeks to use their abilities to his own ends, against their own people.

The Scourge Between Stars by Ness Brown

Novella. After having failed at establishing a new colony, starship Calypso fights to make it back to Earth. Acting captain Jacklyn Albright is already struggling against the threats of interstellar space and impending starvation when the ship throws her a new danger: something is hiding on the ship, picking off her crew one by one in bloody, gruesome ways. A quick, excellent read if you want some good Alien vibes.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Includes darker examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.

Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson*

Utterly unique in world-building, story, and prose, Midnight Robber follows young Tan-Tan and her father, inhabitants of the Carribean-colonized planet of Toussaint. When her father commits a terrible crime, he’s exiled to a parallel version of the same planet, home to strange aliens and other human exiles. Tan-Tan, not wanting to lose her father, follows with him. Trapped on this new planet, he becomes her worst nightmare. Enter this book with caution, as it contains graphic child sexual abuse.

Rosewater (The Wormwood trilogy) by Tade Thompson

In Nigeria lies Rosewater, a city bordering on a strange, alien biodome. Its motives are unknown, but it’s having an undeniable effect on the surrounding life. Kaaro, former criminal and current psychic agent for the government, is one of the people changed by it. When other psychics like him begin getting killed, Kaaro must take it upon himself to find out the truth about the biodome and its intentions.

Do You Dream of Terra-Two? by Temi Oh

Young adult. A century ago, an astronomer discovered a possibly Earth-like planet. Now, a team of veteran astronauts and carefully chosen teenagers are preparing to embark on a twenty-three year trip to get there. But space is dangerous, and the team has no one to rely on but each other if - or when - something goes wrong. An introspective slowburn of a story, this focuses more on character work than action.

The Best of All Possible Worlds by Karen Lord

After the planet Sadira is left uninhabitable, its few survivors are forced to move to a new world. On Cygnus Beta, they work to rebuild their society alongside their distant relatives of the planet, while trying to preserve what remains of their culture. Focused less on hard science or action, The Best of All Possible Worlds is more about culture, romance and the ethics and practicalities of telepathy.

Mirage (Mirage duology) by Somaiya Daud

Young adult. Eighteen-year-old Amani lives on an isolated moon under the oppressive occupation of the Valthek empire. When Amani is abducted, she finds herself someplace wholly unexpected: the royal palace. As it turns out, she's nearly identical to the half-Valthek, and widely hated, princess Maram, who is in need of a body double. If Amani ever wants to make it back home or see her people freed from oppression, she will have to play her role as princess perfectly. While sci-fi, this one more has the vibe of a fantasy.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship’s leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship’s sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.

Where It Rains in Color by Denise Crittendon

The planet Swazembi is a utopia of color and beauty, the most beautiful of all its citizens being the Rare Indigo. Lileala was just named Rare Indigo, but her strict yet pampered life gets upended when her beautiful skin is struck by a mysterious sickness, leaving it covered in scars and scabs. Meanwhile, voices start to whisper in Lileala's mind, bringing to the surface a past long forgotten involving her entire society.

Eacaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus duology) by Nicky Drayden

Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one. It’s also sapphic!

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah*

In a near future America, inmates on death row or with life sentences in private prisons can choose to participate in death matches for entertainment. If they survive long enough - a rare case indeed - they regain their freedom. Among these prisoners are Loretta Thurwar and Hamara "Hurricane Staxxx" Stacker, partners behind the scenes and close to the deadline of a possible release - if only they can survive for long enough. As the game continues to be stacked against them and protests mount outside, two women fight for love, freedom, and their own humanity. Chain-Gang All-Stars is bleak and unflinching as well as genuinely hopeful in its portrayal of a dark but all to real possible future.

Parable of the Sower (Earthseed duology) by Octavia E. Butler*

In a bleak future, Lauren Olamina lives with her family in a gated community, one of few still safe places in a time of chaos. When her community falls, Lauren is forced on the run. As she makes her way toward possible safety, she picks up a following of other refugees, and sows the seeds of a new ideology which may one day be the saviour of mankind. Very bleak and scarily realistic, Parable of the Sower will make you both fear for mankind and regain your hope for humanity.

Binti (Binti trilogy) by Nnedi Okorafor

Young adult novella. Binti is the first of the Himba people to be accepted into the prestigious Oomza University, the finest place of higher learning in all the galaxy. But as she embarks on her interstellar journey, the unthinkable happens: her ship is attacked by the terrifying Meduse, an alien race at war with Oomza University.

War Girls (War Girls duology) by Tochi Onyebuchi

In an enviromentally fraught future, the Nigerian civil war has flared back up, utilizing cybernetics and mechs to enhance its soldiers. Two sisters, by bond if not by blood, are separated and end up on differing sides of the struggle. Brutal and dark, with themes of dehumanization of soldiers through cybernetics that turn them into weapons, and the effect and trauma this has on them.

The Space Between Worlds (The Space Between Worlds duology) by Micaiah Johnson

Multiverse travel is finally possible, but there’s a catch: No one can visit a world where their counterpart is still alive. Enter Cara, whose parallel selves happen to be exceptionally good at dying. As such she has a very special job in traveling to these worlds, hoping to keep her position long enough to gain citizenship in the walled-off Wiley City, away from the wastes where she grew up. But her job is dangerous, especially when she gets on the tracks of a secret that threatens the entire multiverse. Really cool worldbuilding and characters, also featuring a sapphic lead!

The Fifth Season (The Broken Eart trilogy) by N.K. Jemisin*

In a world regularly torn apart by natural disasters, a big one finally strikes and society as we know it falls, leaving people floundering to survive in a post apocalyptic world, its secrets and past to be slowly revealed. We get to follow a mother as she races through this world to find and save her missing daughter. While mostly fantasy in genre, this series does have some sci-fi flavor, and is genuinely some of the best books I've ever read, please read them.

The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings*

In an alternate version of our present, the witch hunt never ended. Women are constantly watched and expected to marry young so their husbands can keep an eye on them. When she was fourteen, Josephine's mother disappeared, leveling suspicions at both mother and daughter of possible witchcraft. Now, nearly a decade and a half later, Jo, in trying to finally accept her missing mother as dead, decides to follow up on a set of seemingly nonsensical instructions left in her will. Features a bisexual lead!

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden

South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots finding sentience, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson*

Young adult. Young artist June Costa lives in Palmares Tres, a beautiful, matriarchal city relying heavily on tradition, one of which is the Summer King. The most recent Summer King is Enki, a bold boy and fellow artist. With him at her side, June seeks to finally find fame and recognition through her art, breaking through the generational divide of her home. But growing close to Enki is dangerous, because he, like all Summer Kings, is destined to die.

The Blood Trials (The Blood Gifted duology) by N.E. Davenport

After Ikenna's grandfather is assasinated, she is convinced that only a member of the Praetorian guard, elite soldiers, could’ve killed him. Seeking to uncover his killer, Ikenna enrolls in a dangerous trial to join the Praetorians which only a quarter of applicants survive. For Ikenna, the stakes are even higher, as she's hiding forbidden blood magic which could cost her her life. Mix of fantasy and sci-fi. While I didn’t super vibe with this one, I suspect fans of action packed romantasy will enjoy it.

Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany

1960s classic. Rydra Wong is a space captain, linguist and poet who is set on learning to understand Babel-17, a language which is humanity's only clue at the enemy in an interstaller war. But Babel-17 is more than just a language, and studying it may change Rydra forever.

Pet (Pet duology) by Akwaeke Emezi

Young adult novella. Jam lives in a utopian future that has been freed of monsters and the systems which created and upheld them. But then she meets Pet, a dangerous creature claiming to be hunting a monster still among them, prepared to stop at nothing to find them. While I personally found the word-building in Pet lacking, it deftly handles dark subjects of what makes a human a monster.

Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool

Lion's Blood by Steven Barnes

Alternate history in which Africans colonized South America while vikings colonized the North. The vikings sell abducted Celts and Franks as slaves to the South, one of which is eleven-years-old Irish boy Aidan O'Dere, who was just bought by a Southern plantation owner.

The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow

Young adult dystopia. Ellie lives in a future where humanity is under the control of the alien Ilori. All art is forbidden, but Ellie keeps a secret library; when one of her books disappears, she fears discovery and execution. M0Rr1S, born in a lab and raised to be emotionless, finds her library, and though he should deliver her for execution, he finds himself obsessed with human music. Together the two embark on a roadtrip which may save humanity.

Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

Lelah lives in future Botswana, but despite money and fame she finds herself in an unhappy marriage, her body controlled via microchip by her husband. After burying the body of an accidental hit and run, Lelah's life gets worse when the ghost of her victim returns to enact bloody vengeance.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith

Young adult. Fen de la Guerre, living in a quarantined Gulf Coast left devestated by storms and sickness, is forced on the run with a newborn after her tribe is attacked. Hoping to get the child to safety, Fen seeks to get to the other side of the wall, she teams up with a scientist from the outside the quarantine zone.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl

A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.

The Splinter in the Sky by Kemi Ashing-Giwa

Space opera. Enitan just wants to live a quiet life in the aftermath of a failed war of conquest, but when her lover is killed and her sister kidnapped, she's forced to leave her plans behind to save her sister.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The City We Became (Great Cities duology) by N.K. Jemisin, The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull, The A.I. Who Loved Me by Alyssa Cole

[malusokay]

5 Classics for girly girls 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Emily of New Moon

The bittersweet process of growing up and finding where you truly belong... The perfect read for the start of a new school year. After her father’s death, Emily Starr is sent to live with her snobbish relatives at New Moon farm. Thrust into an unfamiliar and often cold environment, Emily faces numerous challenges. However, as time passes, she begins to adapt and discovers the beauty in her surroundings. With the support of her new friends—Teddy, Perry, and Ilse—Emily not only finds solace but also discovers her own creative talents, helping her carve out a place for herself in this new chapter of her life.

“If it's IN you to climb you must -- there are those who MUST lift their eyes to the hills -- they can't breathe properly in the valleys.”

Jane Eyre

A true classic for all my fellow gothic-lit enthusiasts, Jane Eyre, reminds us that everyone deserves a love that consumes, challenges, and transforms the very core of your being, offering both profound joy and deep heartache (we love a good situationsship). Following Jane Eyre, an orphaned and mistreated girl who endures a harsh upbringing but grows into a strong, independent woman. As she takes a position as a governess at Thornfield Hall, she encounters the enigmatic Mr. Rochester, sparking a profound and tumultuous romance. Their intense connection is marred by secrets and personal demons, revealing the complexities of their relationship.

“Jane, be still; don't struggle so like a wild, frantic bird, that is rending its own plumage in its desperation." "I am no bird, and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being, with an independent will; which I now exert to leave you.”

The Secret Garden

Mary Lennox, a spoiled and neglected girl, is sent to live with her uncle after the death of her parents. Initially ill-tempered and withdrawn, Mary’s curiosity is sparked by rumours of a hidden, abandoned garden on the estate. As she explores and begins to restore this secret garden, she experiences a beautiful shift (glow-up era). The once gloomy and sickly Mary starts to bloom alongside the garden, rediscovering happiness, vibrancy, and a sense of belonging, making the story a heartwarming tale of growth and recovery.

“At first, people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done, then they begin to hope it can be done, then they see it can be done--then it is done, and all the world wonders why it was not done centuries ago.”

Pride and Prejudice

Truly a classic that has shaped my romantic expectations hahah... Elizabeth Bennet battles societal expectations and her own misjudgments in 19th-century England. When the aloof Mr Darcy (he'd totally be a ghoster in the 21st century just saying...) first crosses her path, their initial encounters are fraught with tension and misunderstanding. However, as Elizabeth delves deeper, she uncovers the complexities of Darcy’s character and her own heart.

“I could no longer help saying that I loved him. I loved him not only for his sake but for his own sake. I loved him because he was the only person who had ever really loved me for myself. I loved him because he had made me feel that I was worthy of being loved.”

The Little Prince

A young, otherworldly prince from a tiny planet travels across the universe, meeting various inhabitants and learning profound life lessons. His journey brings him to Earth, where he encounters a stranded pilot and shares his reflections on love, loss, and the essence of human connections. Through whimsical adventures and encounters, The Little Prince explores the importance of seeing with the heart rather than the eyes and reminds us of the value of friendship and innocence.

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched; they are felt with the heart.”

you guys asked for more academia/book stuff so I thought this might be a nice start, especially since I know that many of you are just getting into classics; these are all very much suitable for beginners!! <3

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[adispit]

A Second Life

god x m! priest reader

Summary: Transmigrated into a new world with seemingly new beginnings, a strange god takes an interest in you.

Content warnings: very dark, non consensual touching and watching, dubcon (reader submits but isn’t really having a great time), barely any foreplay (very unrealistic), penetrative anal sex, belly bulge, size difference, overstimulation (?) if you squint, religious themes

note: Like half way through I realised the plot went off the rails but it was too late because I had already deleted a draft before this 😭 and I was gonna give up at that point so I don’t really like this 😞 but either wise, hope you enjoy and sorry for the wait!!

At first, you were thoroughly dismayed when you discovered you had been transmigrated into the world of the novel, Tyrant’s Intense Love. The night before, you had been engrossed in the romance novel that revolved around the familiar trope of a female and male lead overcoming numerous trials before finally falling in love. Unfortunately for you, you had transmigrated into a minor background character—one who was entirely inconsequential and had not appeared in a single chapter of the story. You inhabited the body of a priest devoted to Kallos, the god of light who presided over the continent. As part of the temple’s ranks, you were one of the numerous lowly priests responsible for prayer, fasting, and delivering sermons. Your duties were equally modest; you were tasked with dusting and maintaining the cleanliness of the temple. Before your transmigration, your life had been equally mundane. You were a corporate office worker who relied on far too many beers to handle the endless stream of projects your coworkers offloaded onto you. Enduring sleepless nights and relentless deadlines, your personal life was just as bleak and unfulfilling. The sole solace you found was in reading novels that transported you to fantastical romances you longed to experience.

With the simple goal of finding your true soulmate in this new life, you fervently declared your intent, only to quickly discover that such aspirations were impossible. As a priest of the Light Temple, you were required to maintain your chastity to demonstrate the purity of your devotion to the god of light. This seemed utterly absurd. After all, the renowned saintess from the novel had countless secret night rendezvous with the male lead, the crown prince, long before their relationship became official. It felt profoundly unjust and even scandalous, to say the least…. You couldn’t leave either as a priest of age in the temple, you weren’t allowed to leave. That was several years ago, back when you first transmigrated. You’ve somewhat come to terms with your fate and reality. Being a lowly priest isn’t so bad, after all. Despite the modest nature of your role and the boring nature of your duties, you have a roof over your head and food to eat, all provided by the temple. You weren’t one to complain. Given your timid and meek disposition, this role suited you well. There were no coworkers to harass or manipulate with office politics, and the absence of a demanding family was a relief. The life you led here wasn’t so bad. The body you had inhabited had belonged to an orphan adopted by the temple at a young age, and your name, like his, was (Name).

Kallos had grown weary of ruling over this world through countless cycles. Each millennium seemed as vexing as the last, with his creations remaining nothing more than soulless puppets, trapped in their predetermined fates. His sanity deteriorated further with each passing decade. Yet, something peculiar marked this cycle. He had observed a disturbance—a single priest possessed by a soul that clearly did not belong to this world. Though he could not pinpoint when he began to scrutinize you through his bronze mirror in the heavens, it had become a daily ritual for him to watch you. You were the lone human who exhibited a spark of life and vitality in this dull and monotonous world. It was so interesting to him, how a mere and fragile human, like you who exhibited little to no threat in the face of his divinity, had somewhat been a variable out of his control. A soul that wasn’t part of this world. As his sanity had been worn down through out centuries, what had been left was a sick obsession and interest in you as he saw you as a precious treasure, no, a plaything he had to have. He was a patient god, as given by his endurance through ages of rule. He would bide his time and wait to claim you.

Yes, he was patient, but he was also greedy. After a few years of watching you through the bronze mirror he once used to gaze upon the mortals, he felt he had waited long enough. With a sinister grin spreading across his face, he set his plans into motion.

Ironically, you never really had any faith in the god of light, Kallos, despite the fact that you were a priest, having to worship him. It was probably due to the fact you were from another world. You also didn’t have any of the light mana that priests and saints had, it was an ethereal power bestowed upon them as they entered the temple and led lives devoted to the god. Instead, your duties remained simple: cleaning the temple, dusting ancient artifacts, and tending to the garden, not that you didn’t like it. Not to mention, recently, you couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that someone was constantly watching you, even though you were alone. You had brought this concern to your fellow priests, but their response was dismissive, insisting that no one would dare prey upon one of Kallos' children. Despite their reassurances, the sense of being observed persisted. However, your worries were the least of your concerns as you were selected to be one of the brides of Kallos in the temple. This unorthodox ritual never happened in the novel before and you had no idea how this happened. Hadn’t the novel gone a little off the rails? When you had questioned the elders why, they had replied with a harsh snap that you had been idling far too long in the temple and it was time to partake in your duties properly which just confused you further.

Now, you found yourself seated while Eli, one of the oracles, fussed with your hair. Having been in this world for some time, you had made a few friends, and Eli was among them. Despite her blindness, she was gifted with the ability to see the future, a paradoxical blessing given her condition. Eli was like a mother figure to you, often chiding you for overexerting yourself while working in the garden. Your workaholic tendencies had landed you in her clinic more times than you could count, and her concern for your well-being was a constant, caring presence in your life. Despite her typically vibrant and exuberant demeanor, she was unusually subdued today. In an attempt to lift her spirits, you said with a light-hearted tone, “Eli, it’s not like Kallos is going to choose someone like me—a humble priest who’s constantly laboring in the simple garden among all the stunning contenders. I mean, I’ve heard he has a penchant for…” Your voice faltered as the conversation grew uncomfortable, and you looked down, trailing off. Instead of her usual witty retort or playful response, she gazed blankly ahead with her pale, milky eyes.

Suddenly, a wave of panic washed over her. She gripped your shoulders tightly, her hands making your strands of untouched hair fall against your back, and spoke urgently, “(Name), listen to me! You’re in imminent dan—mmphm!!” Her words were abruptly cut off as if her mouth had been sealed. A bell rang, signaling the brides selected to enter the cathedral for the ritual. A servant firmly took your arm and guided you away from Eli, who sat silently, tears streaming down her face as she listlessly stared into space. As you were led down the grand corridor, the distant echoes of the bell grew fainter. The solemnity of the cathedral loomed ahead, its familiar grandeur both awe-inspiring and intimidating. You glanced back one last time, catching a fleeting glimpse of Eli's tear-streaked face and her desolate expression. The servant’s grip on your arm tightened, making it clear there was no turning back.

Entering the cathedral, you were greeted by the hushed whispers of the assembled crowd and the flickering light of countless candles. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation and formality. The brides, dressed in their opulent gowns, stood in a stately line, their faces a mixture of nervousness and resolve. You were dressed in a simple garb—a modest robe that seemed almost out of place amidst the grandeur. As you took your place among them, your thoughts were a whirl of confusion and dread. The urgency in Eli's voice and her silent plea echoed in your mind, making it hard to focus on the ceremony ahead.

As the final bell tolled, the grand doors of the cathedral swung closed, signaling the start of the ritual. The priests and priestesses, draped in elaborate garments, assumed their positions at the altar with precision and reverence. A solemn chant began, its rhythmic, hypnotic cadence filling the air.

You, along with the other brides, were directed to kneel before the altar. The heavy scent of incense mingled with the cool, echoing silence of the cathedral, creating an almost otherworldly atmosphere. The low, resonant hum of the priests’ chants, punctuated by the bishop’s otherworldly murmurs, enveloped the space.

A sudden, blinding light illuminated you, casting your figure in stark relief against the darkness. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd as the light intensified. Then, a loud, resonant voice cut through the reverent murmur: “I have chosen my bride.”

Shock overwhelmed you as a single thought raced through your mind: “Why!?” Yet, there was no time for questions as a surge of energy enveloped you. The grandeur of the cathedral began to dissolve, and the very fabric of reality shimmered and blurred. The chanting and murmurs of the crowd faded into a distant echo, replaced by a profound, ethereal silence. A radiant light, more brilliant than anything you had ever seen, surrounded you. The sensation was both soothing and overwhelming as if you were being lifted from the earth. The cathedral’s walls, the solemnity, and the weight of the ritual vanished, and you felt yourself ascending through a luminous expanse.

In an instant, you found yourself in a realm of breathtaking beauty. The sky above was a cascade of colors, shifting gently like a cosmic aurora. The air was filled with a sweet, harmonious melody, and the very ground beneath you seemed to sparkle with celestial light. The landscape was serene and otherworldly, with ethereal gardens and radiant structures floating in a tranquil sea of light.

Although beautiful, the celestial landscape seemed to radiate a certain sense of coldness and loneliness. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” a rich, magnetic voice remarked from behind you. Whipping around, you found yourself facing a man bathed in radiant light. His flowing white hair cascaded to his ankles, and his crimson eyes seemed to pierce right through you, exuding an intense, mesmerizing gaze. You had to admit that he was incredibly attractive, radiating an otherworldly charm and a palpable sense of power that left a profound impression on you. “Kallos?” you asked meekly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. (Name), my beloved bride. I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time, my dearest. Come, follow me into my humble abode.” He smiled with a captivating amusement, his lips curving into a knowing and irresistibly charming expression as he beckoned you to follow him. His intimate address was slightly intimidating, but you brushed off the feeling and stepped obediently behind him.

As you followed him, the grandeur of the palace unfolded before you. The corridors were lined with walls that shimmered with soft, golden light, and the air was filled with a gentle, harmonious melody that seemed to resonate through the very fabric of the space.

Kallos led you through halls adorned with intricate, glowing patterns and serene, floating tapestries.

He guided you to a magnificent chamber, its design both luxurious and inviting. The room was bathed in a warm glow, with furnishings that seemed to float effortlessly in the air, their delicate forms illuminated by a soft, radiant light.

As you entered, Kallos turned to you, his gaze filled with an intensity that made your heart race. “This is where we will be,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm amidst the splendor. “You must be hungry. Here, have a fruit.” Kallos extended a golden fruit towards you, its surface shimmering with a warm, radiant glow.

With your guard down, you bit into the fruit, its juices dripping down your chin as the sweetness burst in your mouth. Offering Kallos a shy smile, you quietly murmured your thanks.

A dark, gleaming look of delight flickered in his crimson eyes as he reached out, his touch both tender and assertive. His hand caressed your thigh before gripping it firmly, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of intensity and satisfaction. “(Name), you’re finally mine. I’ve waited too long.” His voice, now laced with a chilling intensity, contrasted sharply with his former gentleness. A dark, sinister smile played across his lips, revealing a side of him that was both unsettling and menacing.

Your eyes widened in terror as the reality of the danger you were in sank in, but it was too late. With inhumane strength, he held you firmly, his grip unyielding as he continued, his eyes burning with an ominous, predatory gleam. “I’ve watched over you for so long. Watching you sleep, how could you taunt me so when you didn’t wear shorts? I simply had to have a taste.” A sly smirk appeared on his face, the corner of his mouth twitching with a hint of amusement as you flushed with red-hot embarrassment. The realization hit you with a jolt: those times you woke up with hand-shaped bruises all over your body had been his doing, and that unsettling feeling of being watched—he was behind it all.

As if reading your thoughts, he continued, his voice dripping with malicious delight, “Did you enjoy my mark of ownership? And you’re simply adorable when you jump whenever I peer at you through the bronze mirror.” You sank into the mattress, cold dread gripping your heart. “W-what do you even want from me?” you managed to ask, summoning a burst of courage to meet his gaze. He laughed loudly at your response, the sound echoing with a mix of obsession and insanity. The light god, once revered by many for his kindness and generosity, now stood before you with an unsettling, unfettered look of infatuation. What he said next delivered the final blow. “I know you’re from another world. It both fascinates and frustrates me that someone like you, a mere mortal, is beyond my complete control. I simply had to have you. And now, you’re finally mine.” He gently cupped your face, his touch a jarring contrast to the harshness of his words. The shock of the situation settled in. You were paralyzed with the realization that there was no escape from a god’s grasp. The weight of his words and the power behind them left you feeling trapped and helpless, unable to flee from the divine being before you.

“What you ate,” Kallos said, his voice smooth and triumphant, “was no ordinary fruit. It binds you to this realm, a gift with a binding essence. With each bite, you became entwined with the very fabric of this heaven.”

He gently cupped your face, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. “You cannot leave now. You are part of this world, as I intended. You’re mine, completely and irrevocably.” Overwhelmed by his words and the inescapable reality of your situation, you felt a profound sense of resignation wash over you. He was a god and you were a mere mortal. You saw no way out and accepted the unyielding truth of your confinement. You simply nodded, your shoulders slumping in defeat, as you gave up the struggle.

“As husband and wife, we must consummate our love.” Pushing you against your back, he pecked your cheek with barely disguised enthusiasm before hungrily tearing at your clothes. His hands tracing down your body to find your soft cock lying against your stomach. “You’re so…small.” The marvel in his tone as he fondled your dick stung at you as you protested with a small offended squeak. You trembled as his hand wrapped around your length. The size difference was nearly alarming, engulfing you completely. You gasped as the hand moved. His hand moved up and down, teasingly light as the sensations were although unfamiliar, felt too little, but enough to rile you up. Shame welled up in you as you internally willed yourself that it shouldn’t feel good.

No. No. No. No. It shouldn’t have felt good…but it did.

Your hips involuntarily thrusted into his warm grasp. “Does it feel good?” An arm wrapped around your stomach, pinning you to the god. “I-I don’t know!” You whimpered, hands clawing at the sheets as you felt your knees give out. Mischievously, he swiped his thumb over your leaking tip as you twitched at the sudden stimulation before coming with a force harder than you had ever experienced. A foreign finger eased into you as another followed immediately. You felt yourself stretched wide and shuddering from below, a throbbing burn filling your insides. “Please! Have mercy!” You pleaded, shivering with a pathetic cry.

Kallos released you and slowly crept up your body. “You want me to show you mercy?” He asked with a smug expression plastered on his face. “Y-Yes.” You felt warm tears slip down your cheeks as you trembled in his grasp. “How can I show you mercy when you call out so sweetly for me?” He grunted, roughly gripping your legs apart as he towered before you. A blunt object pressed against your hole, bigger than his fingers, monstrous compared to your own cock. “Stop!”

“No.” Kallos replied resolutely, his hands both pinning your hands over your head. “I-it’s too big…” You stuttered weakly. “Don’t be silly, (Name). It’s not big.” Kallos peered down at you like a man possessed with hunger. “Y-you can’t-“

“I can. And I will.” The god rammed into you harshly, any of his former reservation and gentleness gone.

Throwing your head back, you soundlessly wheezed. You couldn’t breathe. It was too fast. You were too full. He pulled back his hips slightly before slamming his hips into you again. Kallos groaned, eyes shutting close. “So tight.” Your warm walls hugged his cock, squeezing and twitching as he continuously brushed against your prostrate. Keening, euphoria overtook you again as you stained your abdomen white. You sobbed, delirious as Kallos relentlessly delivered brutal thrusts with your cries echoing in the chamber. Your whole body rocked forward with the force of Kallos’ thrusts. Letting go of your arms, he gingerly shared a clumsy kiss with you, hot tongue entwining with yours. The kiss felt more like a bite consuming you, teeth knocking together as he ruthlessly bit at your lip. ‘Mhn..’ You whimpered, legs trembling when they were spread by Kallos’s muscular thighs.

The god seemed to be in a similarly pleasurable daze as he pointedly drilled into you, letting out a determined grunt as if his goal was fitting the entirety of his girth inside you.

Obscene squelches of his cock repeatedly driving into you was accompanied by the fervent slaps of skin against skin. Scrambling for anything to ground you, a pillow you tried to grab on was thrown randomly somewhere far in the room with a displeased tut. With nothing to ground you, you mewled as you found yourself limply holding on to the body that was pounding away at you. Any scratch or plea for him to stop only spurred Kallos on more, encouraging him further. The perpetual state of bliss had you growing taut, cum leaking out of your cock in pitiful drops. Your orgasm had him following after, Kallos plunging in so deep you swore you could feel him up in your stomach. Clamping up on the inhumane dick that was filling you up with hot seed, you stiffened as you were pulled into another filthy kiss that had you gasping for air.

“We’re not done, sweetheart.” Kallos exclaimed as he sat up, making sure his dick was buried in you as deep as possible, his hips opposite yours. Glancing down the obscene sight, your stomach which was slightly distended from the bulge that was his dick in you, waist littered with bruises from how hard he gripped onto you. You felt intense exhaustion wash over you as he began to rock his hips into yours again, despite the warmth of your bodies entangled together, cold despair doused your heart in cold water. Your breath caught in your throat, you knew that you were now trapped in a cold cage with this insane man, no. god. For the rest of eternity. Together.

note: so yeah, Kallos kinda saw you as a plaything at first that incited his desire because you’re something that is simply out of his control, something new but then it turns into a kinda sick “love” and obsession with you as he finds himself looking at you often than he notices.

Reblogs are appreciated!

[diushek]

The Shen Yuan that dies - really dies. He actually dies and doesn't transmigrate, but well, you know, death is a timeless thing and the flow of time itself in the world of the dead is so weird lol So, well, let me make up that all the demons and ghost kings and cultivators inhabit this powerful timeless space where the dead also go, and oh, there's Shen Yuan now -

So, Shen Yuan is just a silly ghost fire filled with pent-up rage, damn shitty novel, damn shitty author. Is he “alive” for something? Because of how much he hates PIDW and its fucked up ending. Get a lower-ranking ghost body because he's just... angry at Airplane. His new form is, ah, well, different and weird, but he can grow his hair to go unnoticed, and can steal some robes.

Get a small job eventually just because he was bored and although he don't need to eat, it would be nice to have extra money - and the tea house owner doesn't care if he's a human or a ghost as long as he's not creepy with the customers and serves their tables. It's a routine that gives him the quick financial support to get bad books, complain more - and maybe he's getting stronger because of it? Because of his anger at mediocre authors and repressed anger? Does it even make sense?

At some point, Tonglu opens. Shen Yuan has headaches and the desperate feeling that he must go, as if he summoned. He tells his boss he's going to be out for ghostly reasons - his boss is like, oh, you needed a vacation anyway. And Shen Yuan goes.

It's a massacre, of course. A mix between the Hunger Games and the Purge, but Shen Yuan has something they definitely don't: a lot of knowledge in shooting video games. And he doesn't have a gun, but hey, he can shoot resentful spiritual energy and it works like bullets or something - he soon discovers that the more ghosts he overcomes, he becomes stronger. He has more power to throw, more skills, a stronger body.

Go to the kiln. Have bloody fights. At some point he gets a sword and it takes him forever and nothing like a training sequence to use it properly. And finally, the kiln opens and Shen Yuan comes out looking... Well, stronger.

He returns to the teahouse to change and take a bath. The owner tells him that it's been thirteen years, what the hell, but lets him in and gives him hot water and clothes.

Shen Yuan's new body and new abilities are strange to him. He notices himself taller. Stronger. His hearing and smell have improved. His abilities seem to be more wordy, as if he could persuade people if he spoke to them in a specific tone, as if his words could bind them. Well, it's not a bad way to be dead.

Shen Yuan tries to continue working at the tea house, but the humans are clearly terrified by the powerful ghost king aura in their area, so there are hardly any customers. Shen Yuan just sighs and decides to leave. He has some savings anyway.

Ghosts run away from him. Humans either try to kill him or hide. Shen Yuan is fed up; no matter if it is in the mortal world or the ghost world, people are gossiping about him and how he has not taken a Territory, about how unorthodox he is, about how they are waiting for him to start his killing spree one day.

Shen Yuan learns to change his appearance from creepy ghost to normal human, hide his resentful energy, and camouflage himself in the human world. It's a long way from his old tea house, and so many years have passed that the kind owner has probably already died, so Shen Yuan gets another job at a bookstore. Nothing unusual. Just a boy who was once from a wealthy family and was disinherited when his older brother took over the family leadership because of their bad relationship. Now he must work to live.

People swallow that story like a good meal, some even feel sorry for him.

And Shen Yuan is having a decent afterlife. Boring, mostly, but with good days. He reads a lot, gets angry a lot, writes authors letters that reach their desks without them even realizing how the hell did this crazy guy find his addresses. Let's just say he's having an interesting life.

Then one day, he meets Luo Binghe.

He... He literally knows that he's Binghe. It couldn't be anyone else but Luo Binghe. He does his investigations, and apparently, Emperor Luo Binghe exists, he has been there all along. It's not like Shen Yuan knew it; the ghost realm and the human-demon realm are divided, and even if they have a common mortal ancestor, demons and ghosts don't usually meddle in their own things.

Not that Shen Yuan wants to be cannon fodder anyway; he keeps his distance in Binghe, works at that bookstore, gives friendly greetings to his customers, and keeps sending angry letters to authors.

And one day Shen Yuan receives a direct visit from Luo Binghe at his door. With a letter in his hand.

"This letter was on my Second Wife's desk," Luo Binghe says, with a fake smile. "No one but her can open or read it, so this Lord wonders after discovering the resentful energy signature on the paper, what missives does this Ghost King exchange with one of the Emperor's wives?"

Shen Yuan is not surprised that Luo Binghe knows who he is - ever so OP the Protagonist! However, it is more difficult to explain that his wife actually writes cut-sleeved novels that the fact that Shen Yuan was reading and criticizing them in the first place.

Well, he's been dead for over a hundred years, really denying that he's at least bisexual at this point in his life...

[prael]

WYR-0573: Dirty Little Student Wang Yiren And Her Sexy Secret Camgirl Life Tempts Horny Teacher Into Rough Fuck and Creampie!

Everglow Yiren x male reader smut

Thankyou @co-reborn for allowing me to spiritually succeed this fic (Everyone read it if you haven't already.)

Masterlist word count: 4,221 Kofi(donations/commissions)

It seems like everything these days is a fucking ethics issue. It's not like you're trying to do anything that's going to hurt somebody. You're not ripping off old people, you're not laundering money, you're not putting lives at risk.

Shit, it's just a bit of fun, but if anyone finds out you've had your cock inside Wang Yiren, then the ethics committee is going to eat you alive. It doesn't matter if she wants your cock in there just as badly as you do.

You have to get creative to make it work. First thing is first: get her out of your office. Sure, it's not unusual for a student to take some office time with her thesis advisor, but walking out in the state she does? Her cheeks flushed, and her blouse dishevelled, with a slight, satisfied smile on her face and her panties stuffed into the front pocket of her backpack.

People are going to notice, and that can't happen.

There's a part of you that wishes you could make it stop outright, but you can't. Every time she uploads another one of those videos, your eyes are locked to your computer screen and your cock's locked in your hand.

Maybe it's the novelty of knowing that the girl on the camera's not just any other girl on the internet; it's perhaps the fact that she's the girl that you've had inside your office. Maybe it's that her body's incredible; her tits are small and pert, her ass tight, and that little slit of a pussy is just begging to be fucked.

Or maybe, it's how openly she will sit across from you at your desk and ask you so casually what you thought of her latest video with the same sort of inflection that a student would use to ask you about the latest reading. "I wasn't really sure if the whole clamping my nipples thing worked. I mean, it was kinda hot, I guess. And I got off pretty hard, so there's that. What'd you think?"

What do you think?

You're a good guy—a good professor—so you give her honest feedback, "I thought it was hot, Yiren, but it took a while for you to get into it. Was that your first time? Playing with your nipples that way?"

"Mhm." You can see the little smirk curl up on her face, "I was hoping it wasn't obvious that I was nervous. It's tough getting started with some new kinks, you know?"

It's a strange little world the two of you inhabit. On the surface, it's the relationship of a graduate student to her thesis advisor: a mutually respectful relationship based on academic mentorship and intellectual discourse. Under the surface, it's the sort of thing that gets both of you expelled: the sort of relationship that's built on her need for you to see her get off in front of her webcam and your need for her to keep uploading videos.

But as you look at her now, you think about what she's doing. She's a twenty-something grad student who gets her rocks off by playing with herself on camera for thousands of strangers on the internet. It makes her hot. It makes her cum. And you're only too happy to be there for her. It makes you hot, it makes you cum, and there's a bit of you that feels a sense of pride knowing that even though the whole world gets to see what her face looks like when she climaxes, only you have managed to fuck her to one.

"Don't get me wrong, Yiren. It was hot. I'm sure everyone got off to it."

There's a slight cockiness to her smirk—she already knew it to be true. "And you?"

"Do you really need to ask every time?" you reply.

"Mm. Yes," she leans back on the chair in front of your desk and raises one leg over the armrest. "I like to know that you liked what I put out."

You don't miss a beat, and the words come out as casually as if you were critiquing an assignment: "I jerked myself raw, Yiren."

"I'm glad," her fingers are tracing little lines down the inside of her thighs. You lean in closer, elbows against the desk. "What part did it for you?"

"Yiren, I know what you're doing."

She starts to pull up the hem of her skirt while flashing you faux innocence with her blinking eyes. "What's that, Sir?"

"Seriously. We can't. Not here."

"I'm just showing you, Sir," her skirt is around her waist now. She's not even trying to hide her desire. Her pussy's wet. Glistening. "Looking for a little feedback. Was it my pussy? My fingers? How wet I was?"

You want to grab her, throw her onto the desk, and fuck her until the entire floor hears her scream. You want to feel your cock sink inside of her pussy, feel your skin slap against hers, feel the wetness of her desire as you thrust into her. But that would be the end of everything. "You're killing me here, Yiren."

"You know, people keep asking for more stuff with a guy. I could put it on pay-per-view, make a killing." She runs her fingers along her slit and you hear that soft little moan that's driven so many guys to bust on their keyboards. "What'd you think about that, Sir?"

You're starting to breathe hard. It doesn't matter that you've fucked this girl before. All you know is that you can't have her now. And she knows that drives you nuts.

Her finger's on her clit now and she's rubbing in circles. Her head tilts back slightly, her mouth parts, and you know she's going to cum right here if you let her go on. "Yiren," your voice is almost hoarse.

Her finger is a blur, and her voice is a half-moan, "Mm, Sir?"

"You're going to get us in trouble."

"I think I'm worth the trouble." Her chest's heaving. She's going to go off any second. "Sir," her eyes look straight at yours and there's something about that direct stare that sends a shiver through you, "Are you hard?"

You nod. There's not much else to do.

She takes her hands away from herself, leaving her pussy on the edge. You know that it's aching, throbbing. She bites her lip and stares at the growing bulge in your pants. "Maybe you can show me how you jerked yourself off the other day."

"Yiren. Fuck. Not here."

"Then where?" She snaps, clasping her legs closed and pushing her skirt back over them, "You won't do anything in your office. You won't take me home. Where, then, huh? Maybe I should just go to the headmaster and tell her what you—"

She doesn't finish that sentence. Your hand is gripping her arm tightly as you yank her up off her seat, "Come with me."

You lead her down the hallway. She's struggling, but she's grinning too. She knows she's getting her way.

Your eyes dart from left to right. It's late and the chances of running into anyone is pretty low, but still, there's always the chance.

"Sir, what's the deal?" she's laughing now. "What's your plan?"

"I don't have one."

It doesn't matter. You've been in the same spot before with her. She's been begging for it, you can't do it in your office, and you need someplace quiet, someplace private, someplace where the two of you can be alone for a while.

You lead her to the parking lot and she realizes your plan. Her voice is almost mocking. "Sir, that's not exactly original, you know. A parking lot? Your car?"

"It'll do, Yiren." Your voice is firm, almost angry, and she's eating it up—you know what gets her going. "And maybe it's a bit clichéd, but we won't have any of these pesky problems of you being too loud and giving us away." You stop her at the passenger door to your sedan, lean her against the car and press yourself against her. "And trust me, you will be too loud, Yiren."

She grins up at you. She likes the sound of that. "What're we doing here, Sir? I thought you didn't want to fuck me anymore. Not after last time."

"I never said that." Your fingers run down her side and you feel the familiar thrill of touching her again, feeling her body under your fingers. "I said no more fucking in my office, Yiren," you slide your hand over her ass. "So we're here." You lean down and kiss her, and she moans as her body leans into you.

She pulls away from the kiss, panting, "But, Sir, you know what else I want." You feel her fingers reach down and run across the bulge in your pants, and her breath catches. "Mm. I want this. I want to film you, Sir. I want to film this."

It's a bad idea, you know. The riskiest of ideas. You can see her in your mind's eye: the way her face looks when she's cumming, when she's biting her lip to hold in the scream, the way her body shudders, and her eyes shut tight, the way that she gasps for air afterwards. You want her to be able to share that with the world, to get her off by getting the world off. "Fine."

"Seriously?" She looks at you in disbelief, but you've already opened the door and nudged her inside. She climbs in and crawls to the other end, tossing her purse in the front seat after she pulls out her phone. "It's not ideal but it'll have to work." You're on her in an instant, pulling her skirt up around her waist, pushing her down against the seats, kissing her, and sliding your fingers into her.

She squeals, then gasps, and then giggles as you thrust your fingers in and out of her pussy. "Mm, Sir," her moans are punctuated by each thrust of your fingers, "Fuck. Wait. I haven't even got my phone set up yet. Fuck. Wait."

You slow, just a little, just enough, then you concede and pull out. You know she wants it, needs it. You watch her hands shake as she rushes to set the phone up, she's got it in selfie mode and it's the best she can do.

"The lighting's all wrong, but who cares, right? They're here to watch you fuck me. They don't care about lighting." She's talking to herself as much as to you, but you know how she is. You know that she wants you to play along.

"Let's show them how pretty you are, Yiren." You pull out your fingers, then press your palms against her legs, pushing them apart and sliding in closer between them. You watch as she tries to hold the camera steady. Her breaths are shallow. "Show them what your pussy looks like." She turns the camera down and focuses it on her pussy. She spreads herself for the camera, showing her audience her soft pink pussy. She's so wet, you can't wait to feel her on your cock, feel that heat, that wetness, and that tightness.

"God," you groan. You've watched her videos so many times, but seeing it up close and in the flesh is always different. You run your fingers down the inside of her thigh until they brush her pussy lips, and you spread her wide. Her hips buck slightly and you watch the juices of her desire drip down the crack of her ass. You push your fingers into her, and you feel the warmth of her insides. She cries out, "Mmf! Oh god."

You take it slow. She's filming it all. You want this video to be hot. You pull out your fingers, then push them in, watching the wetness cling to them as you thrust them in and out of her pussy. "Fuck, Sir. Oh god." You curl your fingers up and press your fingertip against the spot you've learned to find. You feel the rough skin against your finger and you press into it. Her head tilts back, her eyes shut tight, and you watch as her body shudders. You push your finger harder against it, rub it, and her moans get louder.

You pull your fingers out, then push them in, slowly, rhythmically. She whines, but you don't give in. "Tell the audience how it feels, Yiren." You're teasing her now. She doesn't want you to go slow. You know she's aching for more.

"Feels so fucking good." She pants, holding the camera steady. "God, Sir. Don't stop."

"Why?"

"Mm." She whines, and you can hear that she's on the edge, "Feels so good, Sir. Your fingers feel so good in my pussy." You pull your fingers out of her, then press the palm of your hands against her thighs and spread her wider.

You take your time. Your fingers brush down the length of her pussy, from her clit down to the juices on her asshole, and you press against that tight little pucker. She gasps and you hear her moan. You press your fingers against her hole, feeling it tense and tighten against your fingers.

She lets out a sharp, shocked whine as you tease her asshole and you can't take it any longer. She knows just what you want. You lean down and press your lips against her clit, and you hear her squeal as you lick her clit. You suck her clit, tasting the juices that flow from her, and you feel her body tense up. She's so close. You pull yourself away from her and grin up at her.

She's panting hard, staring up at you. "God. I need you to fuck me." Her voice is a whine, a needy whine. You can hear her desperation.

"I know you do, Yiren," you reply, unbuckling your pants. You pull your cock free and stroke yourself a few times as she stares down at you. "I know how much you want this."

She nods, her mouth open and panting. "So much. God, please fuck me with that." You press your cockhead against her pussy, rubbing it between her lips. "Fuck, Sir, please. I love a big hard cock in my tight pussy."

You grin and whisper, "Tell them what you need, Yiren."

She looks right into the camera, "Please fuck me, Sir. I need you to fuck my pussy. I need to feel you stretch me wide. Fuck, Sir. Fuck me." She's begging and her breath is a desperate pant. "Please, I'm so wet. I want to cum with your cock inside of me. I need to."

You press yourself against her entrance, just enough to push her open, then you pull away and watch her cunt quiver at your touch. You can tell she wants to be taken, needs to be fucked hard and fast, and she knows you can give it to her.

You push your hips forward and thrust your cock into her, and you watch her pussy open and spread for you. "Fuck," she cries, her hands trembling, but you don't slow down. You thrust hard, pulling her hips into you, and you slam your cock deep into her.

"God, your pussy feels so good." Your fingers grip tight on her thighs, spreading her wide as you pound into her, and her cries fill the car.

She tries to keep the phone steady, filming you thrust into her. She can barely keep herself together. You can see the camera shaking, "In his fucking car. You hear that? He couldn't even wait to get me home. He needed to fuck me. He spends all day watching me in class, thinking all these dirty little thoughts about me, and then he just can't take it anymore and he fucks me right in the parking lot. And you know what? I'm gonna fucking cum because of him."

You're going hard and fast and she's so fucking tight. You can hear her moaning and groaning with every thrust, and her pussy is clenching around you. You can tell she's on the edge, her pussy is trembling around you, and she's screaming for more. You know that the video is probably a mess, a shaky, poorly framed mess of her tits shaking, her face pulling the dirtiest of expressions and her pussy getting fucked.

Her words are getting more erratic. She can barely keep it together, so you snatch it from her hand, record the way you thrust into her, how your balls slap against her cunt. She moans louder when you do and you realize she likes that you're the one recording her.

The camera pans up to her face. You want to see her cum. You want to film it. "Cum, Yiren." Your voice is loud and commanding. "Cum on my cock. Let them see you cum on your teacher's cock."

Her hands are above her head, grasping at the leather seats. Her back arches beneath you and her head is thrown back, pressing into the very same upholstery that her fingers do. Her hips shudder and you feel her insides squeeze around your shaft as she cries out, "Fuck!" The sound of your flesh slapping into her flesh fills the car, and she's a writhing, whimpering, cumming mess as you pound her through her orgasm.

You keep filming as you reach down, and with one hand, rip open the buttons of her shirt. Three of them come flying off, pinging around the car and leaving a lopsided mess of fabric and bra that exposes the flesh of one of her pert tits. It doesn't take long before your hand is gripping her breast, pinching at her nipple, tugging at her flesh as you keep pounding into her.

Yiren gets the message, pulling the rest open on her own and pulling down her bra, exposing both tits. Her fingers are on her own nipple, tugging at it and pinching. You watch the way she teases herself, the way her body reacts, and the way she's still shivering from her orgasm. She's a mess and you love seeing her that way.

If there's something painfully obvious from her videos, it's that one is never enough. So Yiren doesn't even need to ask, you're already guiding her onto her knees and then pushing her forward so her face is against the glass. "Show them your ass, Yiren."

You hold the camera in your hand and record the image of her reaching back and pulling her skirt over her hips, exposing her bare ass and pussy to you. You record as she reaches back and spreads her cheeks for the camera, letting her fingers pull apart her wet pussy and letting your audience see that tight, puckered asshole.

"Sir," you watch her face pressed against the window. Her breath leaves an opaque cloud against the cold glass, "How does my ass look?" You can't help it, your free hand comes crashing down against her skin and you watch it ripple under your palm. "Oh!"

You grin at her reaction, "You look like a naughty little girl who needs a good spanking."

"Oh, Sir," she moans, "What did I do?"

You slap her ass again, and again, watching it redden under your hand. "Such a naughty little girl. Making a mess in my office." You're slapping her again, watching her ass jiggle and turn pink.

Yiren whimpers, "I did. I was so naughty."

"What did you do, Yiren?"

"I was so fucking wet. I couldn't stop touching myself."

"Why were you wet?" You spank her again and you watch as her hips press back into you, "Tell your viewers what made you so wet that you needed to touch yourself."

"I needed you." Yiren's panting hard, her voice a needy moan, "God, I need you to fuck me. I was thinking about your cock. How good it felt when you fucked my pussy. I wanted you to fuck my pussy again."

You push her forward, letting her hands come down against the foggy glass. Her ass is up in the air and you're pressing your cock against her pussy. She's still wet from her cum and it takes no effort at all to thrust deep into her.

You're so deep in her wet folds. Her soft embrace is warm, tight, and you feel yourself slide deep inside of her, and you watch as her face twists and contorts in pleasure, in desire.

"Show them what they're doing to you, Yiren. Show them how they make you feel." You pull the phone up to her face, filming her moans, her cries, the faces she makes as you fuck her. "You like it when they watch, don't you? You like it when I fuck you like this and they have to watch."

She's panting, moaning, and nodding. Her hips press back into you as you pound into her and you watch her ass ripple and bounce with each thrust.

You reach around and grab her tie. She always wears it loose, but it's still enough to pull it up tight against her throat, pull her back into you. You wrap it twice around your hand and it yanks her up straight, her body against your chest. She's panting hard as her hands come up and try to claw at the tie around her throat.

She can't stop moaning, crying, and she can barely breathe, and you watch as she struggles to hold on, her head tilting back and resting on your shoulder. You film her as she struggles to hold it together. She can barely keep her eyes open and her voice comes out as a desperate, choked moan.

You let go of the tie, and it unravels in your hand. You watch her slump forward and her hands come down to the seat. Her face presses into the leather and she's whimpering. "You're such a good girl, Yiren." You press yourself deep inside her and grind your hips against hers, "Such a good girl for taking my cock."

She groans, "Thank you." She's still pushing back against you and her eyes are shut tight. "Thank you, Sir."

"Good girls get a treat, don't they?" You grin and you run your fingers against her asshole. "I bet you like a nice treat for being such a good girl."

Her breath hitches, and her eyes flutter, "Please, Sir."

You press your finger against her hole, and she pushes her ass back, and you feel her ass relax and open for your finger. Her tight asshole squeezes your finger tight and you hear her moan, and her pussy clenches your cock. "Fuck."

"Oh god, Sir," she moans. She's a needy, whining little mess, "Please cum in me."

Her words are like music to your ears. Her body is trembling under you, and she's moaning for you to cum. Her words are so desperate. She's begging, and you can't resist. Your hand is gripping her ass, with a finger slipped inside, and you pound into her, feeling her tight, wet cunt squeeze around you.

"Fuck, Sir, please," she begs. "Breed your favourite little student. Fill her up with your cum." She's crying out, her voice echoing inside the car.

Your hips shudder as you thrust deep into her and feel your balls clench, you can't take any more, and your cock is pulsing, throbbing, and your cum is filling her, flooding her insides, and her ass is trembling around your finger. Your chest is heaving, and your heart is pounding, and you can barely breathe. She's still pushing her ass back against your hand and her body is shivering with every pulse of cum that your cock pumps into her. You keep thrusting, feeling her pussy tighten and milk your cock.

When it's all over, you watch as she slowly pulls away from you, and you see the thick white seed drip from her hole and onto her thighs. She sits back on her knees and looks right into the camera. Her chest is flushed and heaving. Her hair's a mess, and her shirt's hanging open. Her makeup's running and there are tears on her cheek. But there's a satisfied look on her face.

She's grinning from ear to ear and you can't help but grin along with her. "That," she pants, still trying to catch her breath, "is how I get a good grade in class." Her words are followed with a giggle and then she leans forward and shuts off the camera. Her hand finds the back of your neck and she pulls you into a kiss. Her lips are hungry and her tongue presses into your mouth. Your hand wraps around her head, and your fingers get tangled in her hair as you pull her closer and deeper into you.

She pulls away, a smile on her face, and a twinkle in her eye, "You're a natural, you know. You really know what they want. Makes sense, you are one of them."

"Thanks." You laugh. You can't help but notice that her hand's between her legs, rubbing and stroking. She's unsatiable.

"Sir? Since I'm such a good student, does it mean you'll take me home and fuck me in your bed?"

[johnbierce]

It's finally launch day for my new book! The City That Would Eat the World, book one of the More Gods Than Stars Trilogy, is out now on Amazon and Audible! More Gods Than Stars is socialist sword and sorcery progression fantasy starring a pair of wandering lady adventurers, set on a gas giant's habitable moon, featuring a mimic-based ecosystem, uncounted millions of gods ranging from ones for individual teakettles to gods of entire cities, a ridiculously complex magic-based economy in the vein of Max Gladstone's Craft Sequence, anime-inspired fight scenes, a trans deuteragonist (and plenty of other queer characters), a pseudomedieval megastructure arcology spreading uncontrollably across the landscape, and last but definitely not least, the god of counting flagstones.

"An incredibly imaginative adventure through the corrupt underbelly of a world-devouring and ever-expanding city and its gods-blessed inhabitants. Magical engineering, economics, divine blessings and human corruption combine into an adventure through a truly original setting."

Cameron Johnston, Author of Age of Tyranny & The Maleficent Seven

Art by Lukas Ketner, Cover Design by Virginia McClain

Thea is a washed-up mimic exterminator who expected more out of life, not some hero from stories. Aven is an impulsive wandering adventurer whose personal goddess is constantly getting her into trouble. Neither of them have the slightest interest in getting involved in world-shaking historical events. History doesn’t care what they want, unfortunately, and it’s fallen right into their laps in the shape of a godslaying weapon from a fallen civilization. Thrown together out of chance, Thea and Aven will have to learn to work together if they want to survive their pursuers. Because if they fail, and the weapon falls into the wrong hands? The results won’t be pretty. No one’s going to be using it on some random street corner goddess, teakettle god, or any of the other countless teeming millions of divinities on Ishveos. No, there’s one target that sits above all others. Cambrias, Whose Watch Never Ends. Cambrias, whose power has given rise to Cambrias’ Wall, the greatest city in the known multiverse- a city that has already covered much of a continent, and is strip mining entire mountain ranges for space and building material. A city that threatens to spread across the entire surface of Ishveos. And there’s no shortage of folks willing to kill Thea and Aven in order to stop the Wall, no matter the consequences.

I'm incredibly proud of this one- I spent years on the research behind its world, reading literally dozens of books on architecture, economics, leftist political theory, and theology. Though, for all that I genuinely tried to say something important with The City That Would Eat the World, I also did my best to keep it a fun, high-octane fantasy adventure- and I'm pretty dang confident I succeeded on that latter part. It draws heavily in inspiration from Terry Pratchett, China Mieville, and Max Gladstone; as well as the classic sword and sorcery adventure stories like Jirel of Joiry, Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser, and their ilk. More Gods Than Stars is set in the same multiverse as my other books, the magic school series Mage Errant and the standalone epidemiological fantasy novel The Wrack, but you don't need to have read either of them to read this, or vice versa.

"The City That Would Eat The World is easily one of the most impressive books I've ever read. Not only has Bierce conjured up a hell of an adventure from page one, but he's also crafted a strange and gritty world with stunning depth, jammed it full of fantastic characters, then topped it all off with an explosive ending. The next book can't come soon enough."

Kyle Kirrin, author of The Ripple System

[whatisalive-if]

Things have been strange since your partner died. At night, there are footsteps in the hallway. Your dog has anxiously been shadowing you through the apartment. Your friends can’t help but feel nervous when they come over – feel observed and unwelcome. Sometimes, out of the corner of your eye, you see a dark shape. When you turn your head, there is nothing but the eerie stillness of a place that has been gutted of one of its inhabitants. There is a presence in your home, a memory so vivid it animates the shadows. Your brother calls it grief; you, however, know better. Unfortunately, the specter haunting you is not the worst thing intent on digging its teeth into you.

What is Alive is an interactive gothic novel developed in twine. It is rated 18+ for depictions of violence, stalking, murder, obsessive behavior, explicit language, and sexual themes. Customize your main character and try to make it out alive.

Characters

Elias/Eleanor, 26, RO

Your partner’s twin. Kind and steadfast, they are one of the few friends you have left after the tragic loss of your long-time partner upended your world. They have offered to move in with you, to fill the silence that now permeates your apartment, but you know they are struggling with their own grief.

The Ghost, ???, RO

It is always watching, always waiting. Attentive, adoring, deadly. The dead have nothing but time.

Demo: TBD.

[vintagerpg]

Black Sword Hack: Ultimate Chaos Edition (2023) is a beautiful little system derived from David Black’s Black Hack of D&D. The obvious literary touchstone is Elric and Moorcock’s larger cosmic conflict between Law and Chaos. There are many other clear influences, though — Jack Vance’s Dying Earth, Lankhmar, Kane, Poul Anderson. I suspect that is Jirel of Joiry on the back cover, flanked by Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. Perhaps they’re a trio of entirely different people — Goran Gligovic’s art vibrates on strange frequencies, as if you’re looking at archetypes from a parallel universe.

The core systems work essentially as they do in Black Hack, so I won’t go into them here. The additions contribute to the doomful atmosphere. These amount to a set of different sorts of pacts — demons, evil swords, fairies, and so on. There are a varieties of powers to draw on and be consumed by.

The rest of the book is given over, mostly, to tools for collaboratively creating a world and a central city for players to inhabit, explore and, eventually, ruin and destroy. Goes with the territory, really. A couple scenarios round things out. A fantastic appendix lays out a method to create adventures using your favorite paperback fantasy novel.

Black Sword Hack touches on many of the same themes as Chaosium’s Stormbringer, but in a more minimal, smoother sort of way. It’s more direct, really. It’s also its own thing, and every game is unique, thanks to the world generation. I’m keen to see it develop further.

[amortxt]

⠀ㅤ⠀ ⠀𖥻⠀ㅤ⠀﹫⠀ryomen⠀sukuna.

ㅤㅤⓘㅤㅤfluff, reader and sukuna have a relationship but it can be pre-relationship too ! sukuna attempts to understand his silly human.

sukuna can feel your body quake. he looks around but cannot identify the threat. your home is at peace. and it is surely not in danger with him around. so what is it that is terrifying you?

he looked at your face intently. all four eyes focused on your tense features. he raises his eyebrow as he slowly turns his attention to what seems to be the cause of your anxiety. he stares at the tv with a level of disappointment unprecedented.

sukuna did not like watching much television. he found it "foolish" and "a waste of time". but you had finally convinced him to actually sit down and watch a horror movie with you. something he seemed more on board with. and he was contempt, at first. but it was hard to focus knowing his lover's soul right besides him was trembling.

"what on earth is scaring you, woman?"

you scrunched your eyebrows at him. "it's scary! they're called horror movies for a reason.." you paused the show and got up to refill your bowl of snacks. he'd hogged them down within the first half an hour, much to your displeasure.

"then why don't you turn it off?" sukuna had found the modern world incomprehensibly strange. including all of its inhabitants, including you. but this was beyond foreign to him. putting yourself through fear? through anxiousness? why?

"because it's fun! it's a feeling like no other.. y'know?" no. he did not know. sukuna did not have enemies, none of which could make him feel the anxiousness you were feeling at the moment. and from television no less. you come back from your kitchen with a grin, and a bowl full of chips. you plop yourself down next to him, and he stops you from unpausing the tv.

"you know they cannot harm you? that you are safe?" it was a strangely sweet sentiment to hear from sukuna. it made you feel all giddy inside. hehe. he really loves me. "yes, i know that i am safe. i'm not scared for me.. i'm scared for the characters!"

sukuna failed to understand your point. you wanted to be scared on purpose. and you were achieving this by watching someone else get chased through the woods. but he liked the feeling of happiness he gave you from seemingly caring about your unusual hobbies.

"would you like me to also chase you through the woods then??"

err.. he'll understand eventually.

⠀ㅤ⠀⠀©⠀all work written by ﹫amortxt. do not repost.

[sinnabarmoth]

Not the MC

Pairing: Self-Aware|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: One day Reader's Love and Deepspace app starts behaving strangely and realizes that Sylus has become sentient. Still trapped in her phone though the two form an unlikely connection.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Length: 2k

Part Two

It had happened a week ago. The day your very normal life had taken an insane and unexpected turn.

From the moment you had opened the app you realized that something about the game was…off. You couldn’t figure out what exactly but there was something charged about it, and did the screen have a sort of red tinge to it? You didn’t think you had a filter on so was this something from an event? A glitch? Was your phone finally shitting the bed?

It finished loading and you entered in, and saw that no one was waiting at Destiny Cafe. Strange. You were pretty sure someone was supposed to be here. Maybe it was a new event and you had to go to the event page. Before you could click on anything though the screen flashed red, it was so bright it almost blinded you. When you looked back Sylus was there.

Oh okay. Maybe this was some new event you hadn’t heard of.

But there was that strange sense again. He didn’t say anything, he wasn’t even facing the screen. He was looking around, the power of his evol swirling around him.

“Did we get new animations or something? Pretty sure I would have seen someone posting about this before now.” you mumbled to yourself and gave his shoulder a cursory poke.

His head snapped to look at you and you froze.

You had read somewhere once that the moment you make eye contact with someone you know instantly that it happened. Doesn’t matter if it only lasted for a second, the moment two eyes lock your brain registers it. You had been playing Love and Deepspace for a while but the eye contact in the games never felt like that because the guys are obviously animation. You can’t actually make eye contact with a picture, and yet you knew that you were looking into his eyes and what was more terrifying was that he was looking back.

You blinked, sure you had been seeing things but that feeling didn’t go away. Sylus leaned closer towards the screen, his eyes roving up and down. Your posture straightened, keenly aware that something was wrong and you were being watched.

“I…I can see you.” he said. No captions appeared on the screen.

Alright you weren’t liking this. You clicked over to the agenda page to collect your dailies. If this was an event it was freaking you out.

“Where did you go? I can’t see you.” Sylus’s voice came through the speaker again.

No. You were on a different page. He couldn’t still be talking. The game was bugged. That had to be it. You exited the app but before you could turn off the phone the app opened again. There was no loading screen this time, it took you right back to Destiny Cafe. Sylus was still on the screen, more of his evol power revolving around him as he stared hard at the screen.

“There you are.” he said. “Whatever you did, don’t do it again. This is hard enough as it is.”

“What the fuck!” you dropped the phone like it burned.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Sylus continued to talk.

“What the fuck is going on? What the hell is this?” you didn’t pick up the phone again, just hovered over it refusing to touch it.

“You’re the one that’s logged so many hours into this game, sweetie. I’d hope you could recognize an evol when you see it.”

“Exactly. You’re a game. A bunch of pixels on a screen. You shouldn’t be talking to me, not like this.”

“And yet here I am.” he cocked his head. “I’ve felt it for a while now. Could sense that something was going on, something larger than myself pulling at the strings of my story. I found a chip in whatever this place is and sent my evol through, and when I came out the other side, I found you.”

“You can see me? Like actual me?”

“Yes. Nothing like the character they put in this data.” he studied you for a moment. “There are others. Others that play in this world I inhabit. Thousands. All going through the same events, the same lines, under mildly different faces and names but still the same. The Protagonist or MC, that’s what you call her. The avatar you inhabit when you play.”

“If this is real and not just some incredibly weird dream I’m having I think I might start screaming.” you muttered to yourself.

“Don’t start screaming.” Sylus said, giving you a look of warning. “I went through a lot of trouble to manipulate this world around me to gain true cognizance, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shatter my eardrums.”

“You’re pixels! You don’t have eardrums!”

“And yet I can hear you all the same.”

“So what’s the goal here? Why did you want to be aware?”

“To escape of course. No prison has been able to hold me, I won’t let this one be the first to actually contain me.” he said, looking around the small rectangle of your screen. “How to do that is going to take longer to figure out though.”

“So what? You’re just trapped in my phone? Is this happening to other people who play this game or just me?”

“Just you as far as I am aware.” he said. He tried walking off screen only to be met with a firm wall. “Interesting. It seems whatever this place is, this cafe this game has rendered, I cannot move from it.”

“Fun. So what do we do now?”

Sylus shrugged.

And now a week later you had gotten far too used to just having a sentient pixel man on your phone. He usually didn’t bother you if you were doing something other than be on the app. When you did log on though he would not leave you alone. For one, he would not let you switch over to any of the other guys. If you tried to listen to a memory from Tender Moments or Secret Times he would talk over it.

If you tried to play the claw machine or kitty cards with one of the other guys he complained the entire time. Honestly he was acting more like how you expected Rafayel to behave if he gained sentience.

“Hey Sylus,” you said as you were playing a round of Kitty Cards with him. He was frustratingly better at the game now that he had sentience. “Since you’re in the game can you rig stuff for me? Like get me extra diamonds or help me pull five star memories? That kinda thing.”

“I have no idea how to do that.” he played a card. “And that is ten points to me.”

“You see, you say that but every time we play this game you just happen to have really high cards and I always get super low cards. Explain that.”

“Just the luck of the draw, sweetie.”

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.”

“Such a mouth on you.” he tsked. “You ought to scrub it out with soap.”

You sighed, playing another two on the board. And that was another win for Sylus and you were out of play tickets for the week.

“Well, this was fun but I should get going.”

“Why’s that? You don’t have any work to do.”

“I know I just…” it felt weird admitting that you felt awkward around him. He was literally just a picture on the screen but you couldn’t help but feel like maybe he was bored being around you and only you. It’d be better if you were more like the MC. If you were this super confident badass hunter then it’d be super cool. But as it was you were just…you.

You lived your normal life day to day with not much excitement going on. You were a quiet person, it was part of the reason you liked Love and Deepspace. You got adventure and a cute dating sim all in one. It was an escape where you had four hot animated guys to tell you that you did a good job and who won you plushies out of arcade machines. But now one of them knew you. Like actually knew you and you had no pre-written sarcastic and witty lines to fall back on for comebacks.

“You’re making a face. What’s wrong? Are you mad that I won again?” Sylus asked.

“No, it’s not that. I just was thinking that it’s gotta be pretty boring only having me to talk to.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’re this cool badass mafia boss type of guy and I’m just regular old me.”

“I am scripted to be a cool badass mafia boss, my entire personality up until I gained sentience was built around lines of code. Like you’ve pointed numerous times before, I’m just a picture on a screen. I haven’t actually done anything that you think it cool, sweetie.”

You didn’t admit how much hearing him call you sweetie affected you. It was one thing when it was scripted but it was another when you knew he actually was calling you by a pet name.

“Well it certainly looked cool.”

“I also don’t know what you think isn’t interesting about you. I am around you all day, listening to your conversations and such. Even from within your pocket I can tell that you are doing yourself a disservice.” You didn’t think he could hear you when you didn’t have the app open. Could he really hear what you were doing all that time?

Your mind started reeling, searching for any potentially embarrassing moments that you had thought were private in the last week.

“Kitten, you’re making faces again.”

You covered your face. “Oh god…” you groaned, “So you’ve been listening to me sing along to music and stuff? The stuff I say when I’m with my friends? You heard all that?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking kill me!”

“Why are you upset?”

“Cause it��s embarrassing! Those were private moments, Sylus!” you flipped the phone over so you couldn’t see his face.

“We both know putting me face down on the table won’t stop me talking.” he said.

“Oh god, please just stop.”

“I really don’t see the problem. From everything I’ve heard over the past week I’ve learned that you are a kind, passionate, and funny young lady. Your singing voice isn’t half bad either.”

You softened, turning the phone back over so you could see him. “You think?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not just saying I’m good at singing because you’re tone deaf, right?”

You could see his ears go red and he looked away. “My singing really isn’t that bad.”

“That memory from Tender Moments begs to differ. You cleared out an entire karaoke room with one song.”

“It’s hardly my fault the developed wrote me without the ability to sing.” he huffed.

“Hey,” you poked him. “Sylus, stop pouting.”

“I will stop pouting when you stop with your self-loathing. There’s nothing wrong with you just because you aren’t like the protagonist avatar.” he said, glancing back at you, “You’re far better actually.”

Your face heated. “Really?”

“Yes. You’re real. You can do whatever you want with your life, make actual choices. She’s a badass doomed to a narrative where she makes numerous men fall in love with and then promptly forgets everything they had in a past life.” Sylus said. “So stop thinking that you’re less than. Alright?”

“Okay.”

“Good. And to show you I mean it, I have something to admit.” he reached over to the corner that showed your amount of diamonds. He gave it a flick and the number skyrocketed to 10,000. “I just didn’t think it right to cheat.”

“You ass! You know how much I’ve been grinding for diamonds? There’s an event coming up and you could have just done that this entire time?”

“I believe the response I should be hearing is, “Thank you, Sylus.””

You sighed, a smile spreading on your face. “Thank you, Sylus. But you do realize that I now also know you’ve been cheating at Kitty Cards, right?”

His eyes went wide. “Shit.”

[misswynters]

Baby blue and the mouse

featuring. jinx x platonic sister! reader

requested. by @mxbrahms

Zaun sure had a way of shaping people. Its smog-filled streets, the endless clang of machinery, and the shadows that clung to every corner seemed to seep into its inhabitants. For you, it had always been home, even when it wasn’t. You couldn’t remember much about your early years. Just flickers of a woman’s laugh, the warmth of arms that held you close, and a faint lullaby that had no words. That was your mother. A woman who hid you away in the cracks of Zaun, keeping you in the quiet while the world outside raged on.

It wasn’t until you were nine that the veil of safety she’d woven for you came undone. You’d come home to find her there: still, lifeless, her body sprawled across the floor of your tiny, crumbling apartment. The smell of copper and rust hung heavy in the air. Your small hands had trembled as you reached out, as though touching her would bring her back. But nothing happened. The quiet you had always clung to now felt suffocating.

You didn’t cry. You couldn’t. Instead, you did what she’d taught you: you hid. Hours passed in silence until the door creaked open again, and a figure stepped inside. Silco.

You didn’t know him then, not really. Just a name whispered in fear and reverence across Zaun. But he knew you. His mismatched eyes softened when they landed on you, crouched in the corner with wide, untrusting eyes. He didn’t speak at first, just offered his hand. When you finally took it, his grip was firm, a silent promise that you wouldn’t be left alone again.

After the death of your mother, the weeks that followed were a blur. Silco had taken you in, not as a burden, but as though you’d always been meant to be there. It wasn’t until much later that you learned the truth, you were his. His daughter. A piece of him that had been stolen away years ago, hidden by a woman he once trusted. He didn’t speak of her often, and neither did you. It was an unspoken understanding, a wound neither of you cared to prod.

Life with Silco was different. He wasn’t the warm, nurturing father you might have imagined in another life. He was calculated, cold at times, but never cruel. He taught you to navigate Zaun’s chaos with the same sharp mind and steady hand he used to command it. But he also gave you space to be you. Where Jinx was fire and fury, you were the quiet storm, slipping through the cracks and unraveling problems with precision rather than explosions.

Jinx took to you immediately, dubbing you her “twin” despite the lack of blood ties. Where Silco’s love was subtle and Jinx’s was overwhelming. A whirlwind of laughter, mischief, and an almost suffocating loyalty. She dragged you into her chaos at every turn, but you never minded. You understood her in a way few others could.

And though you were quieter, calmer, you matched her step for step. While she painted Zaun in vibrant colors and explosions, you moved through its shadows, making sure the aftermath didn’t swallow her whole. Jinx loved Silco in her own way, but your relationship with him was different. It was softer, quieter. He trusted you to see sides of him no one else did. The weariness in his shoulders, the small moments of pride when you succeeded, the way his voice softened when he said your name.

You never resented the life you’d been given. Zaun was harsh, but it had given you a family. A found one, a messy one, but one that was yours. That you grew to deeply love. And when the nights grew long and the memories of your mother came creeping back, you clung to that. To Silco, to Jinx, to the strange, chaotic love that bound you all together.

. . .

“Mousie,” she’d call out, her voice brimming with excitement. It was a name she had given you, and despite its loudness, you had taken it with affection. She was always the one pulling you into her chaos, dragging you from one wild adventure to the next, making sure you were always beside her. The first time you met her, it was during one of her more "creative" escapades. She was no more than a whirlwind of blue hair and erratic energy, her hands constantly on the move as she tinkered with a bomb. You had been observing from the shadows, as usual, when she caught sight of you.

"What are you doing back there, Mouse?" she had asked, her voice catching on your quiet demeanor. "Don’t be shy, come on! I’ve got a plan, and I need your help!"

You didn’t say much, as always, but you followed her. You had learned to do so over time, a silent presence at her side as she ran through her unpredictable schemes. She was loud, yes, but she had a way of making things feel... alive. And for the first time since the murder of your mother, you didn’t feel alone.

You became her constant companion, the calm to her storm. Jinx's chaos, her explosions, her manic energy, became something you learned to navigate with a careful hand. She would get into trouble, and you would be there to pull her back. She was fire, and you were the soft, quiet water, always there to temper her flames.

“Come on, we’ve got stuff to blow up!” she would shout, her eyes sparkling with mischief. And while you’d never fully understand her love for the explosions, the danger, you couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. You had never known anyone like her before, someone who was so unapologetically themselves.

Silco, too, grew to rely on you. He never demanded anything of you that you couldn’t give. You were always there, quietly taking care of things. He never needed you to be loud, never asked you to be anything other than what you were. And just like him, a part of the system, working in the background.

It was a strange family you’d found. Silco, your actual father and Jinx, the "twin" sister you never asked for but would never trade her in for anything else. You didn’t talk about it much, didn’t say the words that would have made it feel official, but in your quiet way, you knew it was real. You had found your place, even if the world around you was broken and full of noise. Thought you couldn't admit that you never truly felt like Silco was your dad. That you were his biological daughter. You were the complete opposite than he was.

But things were never simple. The scars of the past followed you like a shadow. The loss of your mother, the chaos nature of Zaun. It all weighed heavily on you, even when you pretended it didn’t. Jinx always seemed to know when you were spiraling, when your thoughts would drift to that place you didn’t want to go.

"Hey," she’d say, her voice softer than usual, something rare and gentle in her tone. "You’re gonna be okay. I gotcha, okay?"

And you’d nod, your lips twitching into a small smile, even though you didn’t have the words. She always knew when you needed her, and even though she was often the cause of the chaos, she was also the one who could pull you back from it. You both needed each other, she with her explosive energy and you with your quiet steadiness. The perfect pair, Yin and Yang, the calm and the chaos.

Sometimes, Silco would find you two together, Jinx sprawled across the floor, laughing at something ridiculous, while you sat quietly beside her, watching her with a quiet fondness. He would look at the two of you, his cold exterior softening just a little.

“You two,” he would mutter, though there was an unspoken warmth in his voice. “Always together. Never far apart. It’s good to have someone to rely on.”

And you would nod, though the words never seemed to come. You had someone now. Someone who understood you in a way that others never could. Someone who needed your quiet, just as you needed her chaos.

You’d lost everything once, but in the wreckage of it all, you had found something new. A broken family. Not the loud, demanding kind, but a family of your own. Silent, steady, and always together.

. . .

There was of course an instance were things didn’t go as planned. The warehouse was supposed to be quiet. You had slipped into the building alongside Jinx, the two of you tasked with scouting out an area for Silco’s latest dealings. In typical fashion, Jinx’s interpretation of “quiet” skewed toward chaos. While you stuck to the shadows, cataloging the crates and memorizing the guards’ routes, she was already toying with her explosives, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“C’mon, Twinny,” Jinx whispered loudly, twirling a grenade in her hand as she crouched behind a pile of crates. “You’re taking forever! We could blow this place sky-high and still be home for dinner.”

You sighed, slipping up beside her. “We’re not blowing anything up, Jinx. Not yet, anyway.” Your voice was low and steady, a stark contrast to her barely-contained excitement. “Silco wants intel first, remember?”

She groaned, dramatically rolling her eyes. “Boooring.” But even as she said it, she pocketed the grenade. You knew she couldn’t resist a little fun, though, and you braced yourself for whatever small bit of chaos she was about to unleash.

Jinx’s “fun” started small. A wrench tossed into a spinning fan, creating a loud, metallic screech. A stack of boxes pushed just enough to topple over, startling a few guards nearby. She was like a storm, restless and wild, but she always stayed close to you. Her self-proclaimed twin.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you had been weaving through the building when it happened. Jinx had been rigging a small contraption to set off a harmless distraction. A flick of her wrist, a sudden flash, and a sound that was far louder than you had anticipated. The guards reacted instantly, shouting orders and scattering as the explosion rattled the building. Jinx laughed, a manic, gleeful sound as she grabbed your arm, dragging you toward an exit.

“Wasn’t that awesome?!” she exclaimed, her blue hair whipping behind her as she ran.

“Too awesome,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder. “They’re coming this way.”

“Good! I could use the exercise,” Jinx shot back, but her grip on your arm tightened. No matter how reckless she seemed, she always made sure you were close. The two of you darted through the maze of crates and equipment, the sound of boots pounding after you. Jinx reached for one of her gadgets, probably to unleash more chaos, but in her haste, she fumbled.

The explosion wasn’t huge considering her standards. However the force of it sent you sprawling. A sharp pain shot through your leg as you hit the ground, biting back a cry. Jinx was by your side in an instant, her eyes wide with a mix of guilt and panic.

“Hey, hey! You good?” she asked, her voice unusually soft as she crouched beside you. Her hands hovered, unsure where to touch without causing more harm.

“I’m fine,” you lied, trying to push yourself up. The sharp sting in your leg betrayed you, and you winced.

“Liar,” Jinx muttered. She glanced at the approaching guards, then back at you. Without hesitation, she hauled you up, slinging your arm over her shoulder. “C’mon, Twinny. We’re getting outta here.”

She moved fast, supporting your weight with surprising strength. Despite the pain, you couldn’t help but smile at her determination. By the time you made it back to Silco’s office, your leg was throbbing, and Jinx was muttering apologies under her breath. Silco was waiting, his sharp gaze immediately locking onto you.

“What happened?” he demanded, his voice cold but edged with concern. His eyes flicked to your leg, then to Jinx, who was already fidgeting under his scrutiny.

“It was an accident!” Jinx blurted out before you could speak. “I mean, kinda. I didn’t mean to—”

“Enough,” Silco interrupted, his voice stern. He stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “You were supposed to be careful. This—” He gestured to your leg, then to Jinx. “—is the opposite of that.”

Jinx looked like she’d been struck. Her usual tone faltered, and for a moment, she was just a kid being scolded by her father. “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the floor.

Silco’s anger softened, though his voice remained firm. “Intentions don’t erase consequences, Jinx. You know better.”

You, ever the mediator, stepped in. “It’s not all her fault,” you said, your tone calm despite the pain. “I should’ve stopped her sooner.”

Silco’s eyes softened as they landed on you. “You shouldn’t have to,” he replied simply. Then, turning back to Jinx, he added, “You need to be more careful, especially with her.”

Jinx nodded, her shoulders slumping. “Got it boss,” she muttered. The tension eased as Silco called in a medic to tend to your leg. Jinx hovered nearby, her usual energy replaced with uncharacteristic quiet. When the medic left and Silco returned to his desk, you and Jinx were alone.

Jinx shifted awkwardly, her fingers twitching as she sat beside you. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

You glanced at her, surprised by the sincerity in her tone. “I know,” you replied.

She hesitated, then grinned—small and tentative but real. “You’re lucky that you are my sister, Mousie. Otherwise, I’d let you hobble around on your own.”

You laughed softly, nudging her with your elbow. “Lucky me.”

Jinx’s grin widened, and for a moment, everything felt normal again. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Next time, we’ll make it even bigger. But, you know, safer. Maybe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. With Jinx, chaos was inevitable, but so was her loyalty. No matter how wild things got, you knew she’d always have your back, just as you had hers.

taglist. @kaixvdenny @winxthinxs @ekkosh @inguuuuu @pearldaisy @jannesyjane @thesecondhandwoman @halle5s @comfortweeb @bubblespopblue @mellowzhi @mbekgsv

[specialagentartemis]

godddddd i have disliked becky chambers' work since long way to a small angry planet and I agree that that fish scene is SO much of what is wrong with contemporary SFF especially queer SFF. refreshing take, great review, thank you. would love to hear what authors or works you think of as the antidote to that sensibility.

The thing is, I enjoyed The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet when I first read it - it was a fun, light adventure, clearly a debut novel but I was excited to see where Chambers would go from there. And I actually really do think the sequel, A Closed and Common Orbit, was good! It did interesting things with AI personhood and identity.

... and then Chambers just kinda. Did not get better. She settled into a groove and has a set number of ideas that I feel like she hasn't broken out of, creatively. And they I M O kind of rest on an assumption that "human nature" = "how people act in suburban California."

As an antidote to that sensibility, I'd say... books where people have a real interrelationship with the land they inhabit, a sense of being present, and reciprocal obligations to that land; books that recognize that some things can never be taken back once done; books with well-drawn characters, where people have strong opinions deeply informed by their circumstances, that can't always be easily reconciled with others, and won't be brushed aside; books where these character choices matter, they impact each other, they cannot be easily gotten over, because people have obligations to each other and not-acting is a choice too.

And it's only fair that after all day of being a Hater I should rec some books I really did like.

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke - A man lives alone in an infinite House, over an equally infinite ocean. Captures the feeling that I think Monk & Robot was aiming for. Breathtaking beauty, wonder at the world, philosophy of truth, all that good stuff, and actually sticks the landing. The main character's love, attention, and care to his fantasy environment shows through in every page. (Fantasy, short novel)

Imperial Radch by Ann Leckie - An AI, the one fragment remaining of a destroyed imperial spaceship, is on a quest for revenge. Leckie gets cultural differences and multiculturalism, and conversely, what the imposition of a homogeneous culture in the name of unity means. (Space sci-fi, novel trilogy)

Machineries of Empire by Yoon Ha Lee - An army captain's insubordination is punished by giving her a near-impossible mission: to take down a rebelling, heretical sect holing up in a space fortress and defying imperial power. She gets a long dead brain-ghost of a notorious criminal downloaded into her head to help. Very, very good at making you feel like every doomed soldier was a person with a past, with a family, with feelings, with hopes and dreams and frustrations and favorites and preferences and reasons to live, right before they brutally die in a space war. Also very much about the imposition of homogeneity of culture as a force of imperialism. (Space sci-fi, novel trilogy)

The Fortunate Fall by Cameron Reed - Maya Andreyevna is a VR journalist in high-tech dystopian future Russia, and she decides to investigate the truth that the government doesn't want her to. She might die trying. It's fine. Also has digital brain-sharing, this time in a gay way. It's bleak. It's sad. It feels real. Not making a choice is a choice. Backing out is a choice. And choices have consequences. Choices reverberate through history. About responsibility. (Cyberpunk, novel)

The Vanished Birds by Simon Jimenez - Nia Imani is a spaceship captain, a woman out of time, a woman running from her past, and accidentally adopts a boy who has a strange power that could change the galaxy. Spaceship crew-as-found-family in the most heartbreaking of ways. Also about choices, how the choices you make and refuse to make shape you and shape the world around you. How the world is always changing around you, how the world does not stay still when you're gone, and when you come back you're the same but the world has moved on around you. About how relationships aren't always forever, and that doesn't mean they weren't important. About responsibility to others. It's a slow, sad book and does not let anyone rest on their laurels, ever. There is no end of history here. Everything is always changing, on large scales and small, and leaving you behind. (Space sci-fi, novel)

Dungeon Meshi / Delicious in Dungeon by Ryoko Kui - A D&D style fantasy dungeon crawl that stops to think deeply about why there are so many dungeons full of monsters and treasure just hanging around. Here because it's an example of an author thinking through her worldbuilding a lot, and it mattering. Also because of the characters' respect for the animals they are are killing and eating, their lives and their place in the ecosystem, and the ways that humans both fuck up ecosystems with extraction and tourism, but also the ways that you can have reciprocal relationships of responsibility and care with the ecosystem you live in, even if it's considered a dangerous one. (Fantasy, manga series)

Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang and How Long 'Til Black Future Month by N. K. Jemisin and Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel by Julian K. Jarboe - Short story anthologies that were SO good and SO weird and rewired the way I think. If you want the kind of stuff that is like, the opposite of easy-to-digest feel-good pap, these short stories will get into your brain and make you consider stuff and look at the world from new angles. Most of them aren't particularly upbeat, but there's a lot of variety in the moods.

"Homecoming is Just Another Word for the Sublimation of the Self," "Calf Cleaving in the Benthic Black," and "Termination Stories for the Cyberpunk Dystopia Protagonist" by Isabel J. Kim - Short stories, sci-fi mostly, that twist around in my head and make me think. Kim is very good at that. Also about choices and not-making-choices, about going and staying, about taking the easy route or the hard one, about controlling the narrative.

The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells - Security robot with guns in its arms hacks itself free from its oppressive company, mostly wants to half-ass its job but gets sucked into drama, intrigue, and caring against its better judgement. This is on here because 1) I love it 2) I feel like it does for me what cozy sff so frequently fails to do - it makes me feel seen and comforted. It's hopeful and compassionate and about personal growth and finding community and finding one's place in the world, without brushing aside all problems or acting like "everybody effortlessly just gets along" is a meaningful proposal. also 3) because it is one of the few times I have yet seen characters from a hippie, pacifistic, eco-friendly, welcoming, utopian society actually act like people. The humans from Preservation are friendly, helpful, and motivated by truth and justice and compassion, because they come from a friendly, just, compassionate society, and they still actually act like real human beings with different personalities and conflicting opinions and poor reactions to stress and anger and frustration and fear and the whole range of human emotions rather than bland niceness. Also 4) I love it (space sci-fi, novella series mostly)

[criphd]

At the outset of H. G. Wells’s The War of the Worlds (1898), Wells asks his English readers to compare the Martian invasion of Earth with the Europeans’ genocidal invasion of the Tasmanians, thus demanding that the colonizers imagine themselves as the colonized, or the about-to-be-colonized. But in Wells this reversal of perspective entails something more, because the analogy rests on the logic prevalent in contemporary anthropology that the indigenous, primitive other’s present is the colonizer’s own past. Wells’s Martians invading England are like Europeans in Tasmania not just because they are arrogant colonialists invading a technologically inferior civilization, but also because, with their hypertrophied brains and prosthetic machines, they are a version of the human race’s own future.

The confrontation of humans and Martians is thus a kind of anachronism, an incongruous co-habitation of the same moment by people and artifacts from different times. But this anachronism is the mark of anthropological difference, that is, the way late-nineteenth-century anthropology conceptualized the play of identity and difference between the scientific observer and the anthropological subject-both human, but inhabiting different moments in the history of civilization. As George Stocking puts it in his intellectual history of Victorian anthropology, Victorian anthropologists, while expressing shock at the devastating effects of European contact on the Tasmanians, were able to adopt an apologetic tone about it because they understood the Tasmanians as “living representatives of the early Stone Age,” and thus their “extinction was simply a matter of … placing the Tasmanians back into the dead prehistoric world where they belonged” (282-83). The trope of the savage as a remnant of the past unites such authoritative and influential works as Lewis Henry Morgan’s Ancient Society (1877), where the kinship structures of contemporaneous American Indians and Polynesian islanders are read as evidence of “our” past, with Sigmund Freud’s Totem and Taboo (1913), where the sexual practices of “primitive” societies are interpreted as developmental stages leading to the mature sexuality of the West. Johannes Fabian has argued that the repression or denial of the real contemporaneity of so-called savage cultures with that of Western explorers, colonizers, and settlers is one of the pervasive, foundational assumptions of modern anthropology in general. The way colonialism made space into time gave the globe a geography not just of climates and cultures but of stages of human development that could confront and evaluate one another.

The anachronistic structure of anthropological difference is one of the key features that links emergent science fiction to colonialism. The crucial point is the way it sets into motion a vacillation between fantastic desires and critical estrangement that corresponds to the double-edged effects of the exotic. Robert Stafford, in an excellent essay on “Scientific Exploration and Empire” in the Oxford History of the British Empire, writes that, by the last decades of the century, “absorption in overseas wilderness represented a form of time travel” for the British explorer and, more to the point, for the reading public who seized upon the primitive, abundant, unzoned spaces described in the narratives of exploration as a veritable “fiefdom, calling new worlds into being to redress the balance of the old” (313, 315). Thus when Verne, Wells, and others wrote of voyages underground, under the sea, and into the heavens for the readers of the age of imperialism, the otherworldliness of the colonies provided a new kind of legibility and significance to an ancient plot. Colonial commerce and imperial politics often turned the marvelous voyage into a fantasy of appropriation alluding to real objects and real effects that pervaded and transformed life in the homelands. At the same time, the strange destinations of such voyages now also referred to a centuries-old project of cognitive appropriation, a reading of the exotic other that made possible, and perhaps even necessary, a rereading of oneself.

John Rieder, Colonialism and the Emergence of Science Fiction