#see? i'm capable of acting like a normal human

[boopjuice]

Human's Are Space Orcs: Sticks and Stones

Tools are hardly uncommon in the Galactic Federation. Without them, not a single species would have been able to advance, create sustainable food sources, societies, spacecraft. But, for most species, tools have advanced alongside the species.

"Human Jane, what is that you are holding?"

"A stick."

"... Why do you have a stick?"

"In case I need to scratch my back, duh. Or to hit the engine if it acts up again."

Humans, as with much else, didn't get the memo.

Chi'l'zak had spent several cycles with humans, even spending time on their native planet and some of their interstellar colonies. Their weather was horrifying, and their culture so diverse it gave xem whiplash. It was on one of these trips that xe learned of the human's particular affinity for tools.

Xe was at what Human Sarah had called a 'beach' at one of the colonies, and xe saw as an adolescent human began to dig a fire pit. Except, instead of using a shovel, he had grabbed a nearby piece of driftwood and began to use it to dig. Xe was certain the efforts would be fruitless, the stick being rounded and not suitable for digging. But in twenty minutes there was a pit a meter deep, deeper if one counted the walls the adolescent human had made from the excavated sand.

Xe had brushed it off as human stubbornness and continued with xir trip unfazed, until Human Lake had wanted to go hiking. Chi'l'zak agreed, not truly understanding the point of simply walking up and down mountains but willing to try the experience and see if maybe xe could gain some anthropological notes on the subject. Halfway up the mountain Human Lake called a halt. he wandered into the trees for a moment and returned with a stick almost as tall as he was.

"We can rest here for a while. I've been needing a new walking stick, and this one's just gorgeous."

"But, Hu- Lake, why do you need walking assistance? You have been perfectly fine up until this point. Are you injured? Should I apply first aid?"

"Nah, I'm fine, 'zak. I don't need one, they're just nice to lean on when you're hiking. Plus their fun to have. makes me feel like a wizard, y'know? But I gotta smooth this one down if I'm gonna use it, or I'll have splinters in my hands for days."

Chi'l'zak didn't mind the rest, and took the time to simply observe the flora and fauna in the area, absorb some nutrients from xir pack of supplies, and-

*scrape* *scrape* *scrape*

As Chi'l'zak looked over, xe found Human Lake seated on the ground, legs fcrossed in a manner that was normal for humans but made xir fur stand on end. He had balanced the stick across his legs, and was scraping it with a rock he'd apparently found nearby.

"Human Lake, what are you doing?"

"Smoothing out the stick, like I said." He didn't look up from the task he'd set himself too, continuing to scrape the rock along the stick, occasionally hitting it against small branches to knock them off.

"Yes, but why are you using a rock? Surely there are better tools. I have heard tell of a common smoothing agent, 'sand paper,' that would be better suited to the task."

"Don't have sandpaper on me. Besides, the premise works the same. Rub two rough things together and the softer things gets smooth. Sure, a rock isn't going to have as fine a grain as some sandpapers, but it works in a pinch."

"but we are not in a 'pinch', as you say. We are perfectly capable of taking the stick back with us and getting sand paper."

"Look, the rock works just fine for me, and it's cheaper. No point wasting money when i have the tools to do the job already."

"Human lake, that is a rock. That isn't a tool."

"Sure it is, if you get creative enough. You can use it to smooth things, hit things, if you angle it like this you can probably use it to dig, and you could always throw it. Hell, I'll bet you this end here could be used to open that stupid finnicky pressure lock Jacob's been complaining about."

"But it isn't mean to do those things. It could damage the lock worse, or break the wrong things."

"Look, 'zak, i appreciate the concern, but a tool is what you make of it. If I've got some nails I need hammered down and all I've got to hand is a rock, then I'm going to use the rock until the rock breaks or the nails are hammered. Just because we have tools better designed for a task doesn't always mean we need to use them. Sometimes old ways work just fine."

Chi'l'zak was quiet the rest of the time Human Lake used the stone to smooth the surface of his new walking stick, and had quite the interesting talk with him the rest of the hike about old human tools, how they were used, selected or constructed. Xe learned about spears and bows and how some still used those tools for hunting. Learned of tools used in leatherworking, all made of bone since the first leatherworkers had found nothing better to work with, and modern human's hadn't either.

"Anthropological Notes: Humans are excellent at creating and using tools, as are most other species. However, humans are slow to abandon old types of tools, some using the same methods prevalent centuries ago in order to complete a task simply because they have the old tools to hand. Humans are also adept at improvising tools, able to use one item for many different functions depending on their needs.

In relation to Incident 739, human crewmembers should not be allowed to bring items such as sticks or rocks on board without prior authorization, lest the engine be completely dismantled again."

[respectthepetty]

So before I dive into the colors of The Next Prince's seventh episode (which was LONGER THAN AN ENTIRE KOREAN BL!!!!), I need to appreciate our Pink Princess Ava.

Her weakness is she doesn't rest. While Ramil is living his BRAT summer and Khanin is trying to get his loyal guard to disrespect him, homegirl is out there practicing to the point that her own coach is like, "girl, calmate."

She even went to go check on Khanin which is queen behavior and if Khanin magically wins this competition, I'm gonna be big mad.

Also, she thought Blue Boy Calvin went to the bathroom and ditched them while no one seemed concerned with where a whole ass prince disappeared to, so I'm hoping he joins his man's cause and decides the entire monarchy should be dismantled.

But if not, at least someone threaten Khanin into treating my babyboy Chakri better because my little button of a man has never done anything wrong, yet Khanin continues to be real rude and disrespectful to him to the point that I'm about to hit him with the chancla.

Okay, now that I got all of that out of the way, let me begin at the beginning which is exactly where the previous episode ended — with a kiss.

Yet the next day, Black Brooder Charan is in avoidance mode until Heavenly Human Khanin reminds everyone that THEY WERE ATTACKED OUTSIDE OF THE CLUB

And strangely enough, King Kunt, who is normally light, is wearing dark clothing as he decides to punish Charan for, once again, saving his grandson's life as well as Pink Princess Ava's because he was the only bodyguard present to watch over FOUR royal beings and their TWO royal servants. Like the math ain't math, motherf*cker! Charan can't be punished for saving everyone all the time!!!!!

Which leads to Khanin holding grief for Charan as he wears Charan's silver and black colors over his usually white. (But if he really wanted to stick it to the grandfather who lied to him and his biological father their whole lives, he could chuck the deuces to this competition and leave his granddaddy high and dry. I'm just saying).

But it's okay because Charan is still hot and still a Black Brooder in the stables where he has been banished to like an animal even though he is a highly-respected art professor who was plunked out of his job to a be pawn in King Kunt and Khanin's battle of bullshit.

No, really, it's okay though because Khanin is wearing Charan's black, so love is going to solve this narrative.

Or perhaps Khanin winning this competition will be the solution *grumble, grumble, grumble* since he is practicing so hard. However, now I need to see Ramil's archery skills because the fletching on Ava's arrows was pink, and the fletching on Khanin's arrows is white, so Ramil's better be green or he's bs-ing.

But IF Khanin wins, it won't be with this coach because our Heavenly Human knows this man is sus af, and this is one time that I'm proud of Khanin pulling rank since he acted just as offended as a rich white woman from Texas when that man put his hands on him. That coach will never be back at this country club even if Khanin has to fight God herself.

And Khanin's loyal butler (who Khanin does not treat nearly as good as he should!!!!) has his back. My little button spoke with his whole chest to that coach. He may be smol, but he be mighty.

However, it's a good thing Charan, in white, is watching over the scene unfold since he is the ONLY person who can save any of these people.

But he was almost a second too late, so now Khanin gets to take a peaceful two to three business day nap while the rest of the plot continues around him.

Now the granddaddy wants to show up acting like a savior in white pardoning everyone even though this was ALL HIS FAULT! He actually says it was his fault too, so, like, good for him. I still hate him though.

Somehow, Charan, who is the most capable individual in this whole kingdom, caught the horrible coach who poisoned his future baby daddy and shows he is the true savior as he decides to not kill the man right then and there, but instead chooses to let him live for future questioning.

But the only question Green Guy Ramil has is if Khanin is dead yet. Paytai, in the most beautiful soft green suit, delivers the bad news that unfortunately Khanin is not dead, and with this simple exchange, they have solidified that they are the Gomez and Morticia Addams of Khanin and Charan's Disney love story.

So back to Charan and Khanin as the birds sing songs around them and the heavens shine brightly upon their love.

No, seriously, I get it. The Blinding Light of Love is practically enveloping Charan. Khanin thinks he is the sun and his whole life revolves around him. Charan can't live without his Heavenly Human. Yeah, yeah, yeah. They're in love.

And Khanin is so happy to learn that Charan has been "keeping vigil" (I love that translation) by his bedside morning, noon, night, and day.

So, of course, he has to make a big deal of it.

Which means Charan has to too. Gomez and Morticia of the Green House of Snakes would be miserable if they had to witness this.

The Black Brooder takes it even a step further though and decides to wash his Heavenly Human's hair because he didn't already have enough duties on his ever-growing list of responsibilities.

But the caring act was worth it because now that they are back in Khanin's room, there is a hint of pink lighting setting the mood.

Which means now is the perfect time for Khanin to attack!

I mean . . . gently ease Charan into abandoning all he has ever known so he can finally taste the forbidden fruit he has so desperately wanted.

But first, Charan must apologize for the disrespect he is about to show Khanin's body.

And with that, we are reminded that when the devil works hard, the GIF makers work harder.

Now let me go reblog this scene eighty times.

[2af-afterdark]

This goes out to all of our demons with tails. How willing are they use their tails with mc during sex and other times?

Let's see... that would be... Leviathan, Satan, Belphegor, and Barbatos? Realistically, I'm sure you could find a way to convince each of them to use their tails (tail humping hot). The problem is that not each of them has a tail that is suitable for getting freaky.

Leviathan

Has a tail that lacks functionality (it is all muscle and not very versatile) but is suitable for getting kinky. The scales can be a bit of a learning curve, but they are generally soft and provice stimulation. His tail isn't super flexible, but it is nice and thick and tapered. He could likely use it for bondange like holding his partner's arms in place.

He is so, so eager to use it too. He wants to use it so bad. He will die on the spot seeing his partner tied up or humping it or sucking on it. He is a weak man.

Satan

NOT SUITABLE FOR SEX! His tail is sharp and is basically a weapon (it'sintended use). The only people using that for sex are those who love edgeplay. No one else should even consider such a dangerous stunt. Even being careful, that thing could shred a normal human apart, especially because it seems strangely flexible at the joints between each section.

Suffice it to say (even though I have written him using his tail before), he would not be using it very often. That thing is covered in blood, not cum. At most, he might be able to use it to tease a partner and fill them with a sense of fear that gives way to heightened arousal.

Belphegor

Again, not actually all that suitable for sex and lacks functionality. His tail is thin and flexible, but it is also covered in thorns and fur and is not very strong. Fur should be nowhere near anyone's bits. You might be able to to get away with using the tip like a feather? For stimulation? Or maybe he can use those thorns to tear holes in their clothing.

His tail is not designed for kinky fun times, but you know he wants to make MC hump his tail. He would be the type to act all innocent like he isn't teasing them at all. Ever the menace...

Barbatos

The best tail for sexy times. It's flexible, forked, and smooth. It's probably cool to the touch but not cold. Also, never forget that it is wet (but not slimy). It's honestly perfect.

HOWEVER, he is the least likely to use it like that. Oh, don't get me wrong, he uses his tail all the time for mundane tasks... but the fucker won't use it on you so casually. He lives to make you long for it. He'll use it eventually, but he will ensure you know exactly what that tail is capable of once he does. Good luck.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Heartless Pt. 4

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.

“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.

Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”

“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.

“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.

Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.

“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.

Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.

-

You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’

The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.

You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.

You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.

Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?

You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.

In the garden.

-

Miguel heard a gunshot.

It reverberated in his ears.

More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.

His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.

But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.

You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….

Miguel frowned.

The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.

“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.

Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.

Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?

Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.

You were really fuckable.

Extremely fuckable.

It was an objective statement.

But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.

“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.

-

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[stubz]

"CAPTAIN!" Calis bursted through the doors panting.

"Yes, Calis?"

"Ki- The humans...the human!" they panted.

"The humans?"

"Yes! I have...urgent news about them. Everyone, out."

The control goes quiet. All eyes on the captain and his second in command.

"Give the room to me and Commander Calis." When everyone leaves he sighs and takes a seat in his chair.

"Captain...the human has betrayed us. My scouts who follow General Morbius spotted Kim along with several other humans conversing with him. Numerous times have they seen them together...surely they have betrayed us."

The Captain looks at Calis and pulls out a drink. He sips it. "What I'm about to tell you does not leave this room." He motions for them to sit.

Calis sits and accepts the drink offered by their Captain. Strong yenx.

"When we discovered that Morbius was feeding classified information to enemy forces we had you follow him with your best scouts. And for a time that was sufficient...until recently." Calis nods.

They stopped the general from leaking information but they still have yet to gather enough evidence to charge him with treason. Not only that but he has gotten more cautious and rarely leaves his home when not at work.

"Well we went through the data base of the Coalition looking for clues or evidence to use when I stumbled upon Kim Greene's file. Here," he hands them the electronic document. "you'll see why Kim, along with some other humans, are conversing with the general so much."

Calis read over the document. At first glance it was nothing special. References, personal information, education, etc. normal things. Until they saw the green triangle next to one of the interview questions.

"...Why is she marked down for secret intelligence? In brackets, honorary...what is a honorary secret intelligence?"

"It's because she along with all the other humans you spotted have experience in befriending the enemy in order to report them to their superiors.

During her interview we asked about what was the toughest thing she had to do at her previous job.

The previous child centre she worked at had several people who were spreading false accusations against their fellow co-workers. One even falsely accused her mentor of illegal activity."

"At a child centre??"

"Yes, I can't believe it either. Carrying on, she was rather quiet at the time and always did her duty with a smile so the enemy ignored her. She used that to become a spy of sorts for her superiors who she respected very much.

Eventually she managed to gather enough information for them that they managed to fire and report the enemies to the proper authorities."

"Are the other humans like this?"

"In a way yes. Steven Smith one of our cafeteria chefs, worked at a restaurant as a waiter and has the patience of a god. He can be belittled, insulted, and be stuck in a never ending conversation that would rot your braincells without cracking."

"Something that would be perfect for the general."

"Indeed. Rebecca Cheng, worked at a cleaning service company and has mastered the art of being unseen whenever she wishes. She has caught several of her employers doing illegal acts or being unfaithful to their spouse simply because they forgot all about her.

And that's just the first few, we have at least a dozen of humans like them who are capable of hiding their presence while at the same time capable of 'befriending' the most unpleasant, foul, and infuriating beings."

"I shudder at the thought of going through the training they went through to achieve this."

The Captain regretfully shakes his head. "This wasn't training Commander...this was them adapting so that they may survive."

[winxanity-ii]

𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓: 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Sorry, not an update, but I'll try to keep this short...

I just wanted to take a second to speak directly and honestly with y'all after posting that last chapter (CHAPTER 42.5: WRATH WEARS MANY FACES). I've been seeing a few responses that, while valid in feeling, have also reminded me why I normally don't look at comments after publishing something heavy.

Let me be clear: I know this chapter was a lot. It was violent. It was cruel. It was painful. That was intentional.

This isn't fluff. This isn't comfort every chapter. This is a mythos-based story, rooted in ancient violence, power imbalance, and divine wrath.

I'm not here writing gore for fun or romanticizing harm—but I am writing a story where gods and mortals alike are capable of monstrous things, especially when they feel justified.

Chapter 42.5 was especially meant to remind you who Apollo, Hermes, and Telemachus really are—how close they sit to the divine cruelty of Olympus. I love them, yes. They're soft to MC, yes. But they are not soft to the world and those they deem unimportant/useless. That contrast is what makes their tenderness meaningful.

And I've hidden Hermes' darker side behind jokes long enough. Some of y'all forgot he's a god, and a trickster, and someone with centuries of blood under his belt. There's nothing squeaky clean about him.

If the chapter bothered you—I understand. It's not meant to sit easy. And for those of you who felt empathy for Melanion, or said this felt too much... I respect your reactions. Seriously. You're allowed to feel conflicted. That's what good storytelling should do.

But what isn't okay is the passive-aggressive commentary about my choices as a writer. I've been transparent from the beginning: this fic isn't some wholesome, "MC gets babied 24/7" kind of tale. It's a dark, myth-heavy journey with stakes and consequences. You don't get a kiss in Chapter 2 here. You had to wait because the world I'm building doesn't hand out softness that easily.

And I can't help but find it a bit hypocritical how some folks cheer for Andreia to die, but pity the man who murdered MC in cold blood. Y'all got mad at her for emotional cruelty, but want grace for someone who left them bleeding in an alley? We must not have grown up reading the same myths lol.

I'm not saying you can't critique or feel strongly. You're welcome to disagree. To feel things deeply. That's human. But don't twist the space/story I've created into something it was never meant to be. This isn't an Epic Musical fluff AU (hence the note of not needing to actually know about it). This is Olympus. This is blood-soaked marble. This is war, consequence, and love wrapped in power dynamics. I've made that plenty clear with me writing out the suitors carnage in chapter 6 instead of summarizing it.

And I say this with love but also honesty: if my content, tone, or direction rubs you the wrong way, it's okay to step away. Truly. I'll never beg anyone to read something outside their comfort zone.

Also—and this might be petty but I'm adding it here anyway—I'm even more annoyed because I had to spoil a big MC-related moment to my own sister. 😭

We promised to treat each other as authors, only editing each other's chapters once we’d both read them fully. That was the deal. But she noticed I was acting off and pushed me about it—kept asking what was wrong and finally told me to just rant before it ate me alive. So I did.

And man, I'm a damn blabbermouth because once I started venting, it all spilled out. Do you know how hard it was keeping a main plot twist from her? Only to have to reveal it because sister issues come first?? 😭💀

But yeah, back to being serious, this is my second serious fic, one where I'm trying to do something I can look back on and be like 'Xani, you ate that up fr.' And if that means I have to block people who threaten the joy or safety of my creative space?

Then so be it—rejection sensitivity or not.

That being said, I'm taking a real break from updating. I know I said I was taking a break after the last chapter, but the truth is, I was just trying to pace myself and stay ahead without losing momentum...but now I mean it—for real. I think I need an actual one to cool off and not spiral.

And yeah... maybe this rant feels a little intense or childish to some of y'all, but I needed to say it or I was just gonna end up doing something impulsive that I'd end up regretting later.

To those of you who do get it, who read carefully and trust the process—thank you. Deeply.

I'll see y'all soon 🖤

—Xani

Tag List: nerds4life246 ace-spades-1 uniquetravelerone alassal thesimppotato11 jackintheboxs-world kahlan170 akiqvq matchaabread danishland uselessmoonlight apad-ravya suckerforblondies jolixtreesunn dreamtheatre woncloudie byzantiumhollow kisskisskys b4ts1e sarcasticbitchsblog trashcannotbealive idkanyonealrr

[laweaaburrida]

Since I played Chilling Devotion I'm not normal /Silly

I've tried this game, and honestly, it's beautiful visually, musically, and obviously, the mysterious atmosphere it puts you in is so unique that a friend and I went into conspiracy mode to create a theory that I'm going to share.

First of all, I'll clarify that it all started with a joke between my friend and me, "MC got the chamuco" (chamuco is a way of joking about naming a demon/monster).

But well. ADVISE, THIS THEORY HAS SPOILERS FROM THE GAME.

If you haven't played it yet, don't read it for your own good.

As I replayed the game and checked the options, I started to analyze it a little more, taking it more seriously.

What caught my attention was that the food, the jam, had a strange, metallic taste.

But playing another route, it seems to have some special ingredients that weren't meant to make us sleep... BUT to keep something/someone away.

Being that in and of itself, my strongest suspicion is that it's primarily a creature (one of my favorites), which would be the Wendigo.

What is a wendigo?

The wendigo has its origins in Algonquin folklore, particularly among tribes in the northern United States and Canada. The legend likely arose to explain the harshness of winter and the desperation that can accompany hunger. The wendigo is typically described as a gaunt, emaciated being, often with an elongated face, glowing eyes, and a skin-covered body that seems stretched tightly over its bones. Some versions depict it with antlers or other animal features.

The wendigo symbolizes the dangers of greed and the loss of humanity. It is said to manifest in people who succumb to extreme hunger or desire, leading them to commit acts of cannibalism. This transformation into a wendigo is considered a curse or punishment.

But above all... One particular version of the legend mentions that if a person dreams of the wendigo, their body may become vulnerable to possession by the wendigo's spirit during the dream.

The wendigo itself is a creature that needs a greedy human... and in fact, MC could be shown to be greedy by wanting Jim. Which would explain why Jim, unlike other yandere characters, decided to push the MC away to immediately go do something important (I'm not saying Jim is innocent).

But beyond the graphic description of the wendigo.

Wendigos avoid fire since they're winter creatures and belong in the forest. They avoid silver leaves and silver itself (remember MC tasted metallic in his food), which, upon investigation, seems to match the drawings. Jim's food tasted metallic, and we might believe it's silver.

As you can see, there are similarities between the drawings and the objects below. Which are silver leaves and thin silver bars.

Whatever is tormenting MC in the dream, mentions that we are IDENTICAL and even the phrase "the one who dreams of wolves" AND COINCIDENCE, wolves are creatures capable of massacring a person.

Also, let's take into account... Jim's behavior.

First, consider the fact that the jam has metal, the fact that he spends his time counting and checking MC's pulse, AND HOW HE ALSO starts singing an unknown melody. Upon further investigation, another way to repel wendigos is with shamanic chants. In fact, when I played Li again, I remembered that I chose this option, and now, playing it again, I analyzed the scene further.

He starts checking our pulse again and here comes the striking part.

BACK HERE, Jim emphasizes being careful about what we let into our dreams. And oh, coincidentally, we actually have a creature tormenting us.

My friend even suggested that it wouldn't be surprising if even the wood carving, or, as it's posed, a talisman, contains something to try to ward off the creature.

BUT the biggest question to be answered... how does Jim know what's going after MC?

We know that Jim is clearly very besotted with the MC and that, apparently, he set EVERYTHING up so the MC would stay and he could "protect" MC, which I find strange considering they theoretically don't know each other.

But, rewinding to dreams.

The Creature, they say the rabbit is the most fragile and docile creature, the perfect sacrifice, and that they are the same. (Like they are trying to convince)

They says the fox is quite cunning, but not enough to escape them... But the wolf...he says, "We'll see if you're worthy".

but to both the fox and the wolf the say...

Like, they are not trying to convince the MC, they straight tell them they CANNOT escape.

And going in one of the routes where I did...

Coincidentally… it seems like the creature tormenting Mc is “related to this animal.”

Another interesting thing about the Wolf and Fox route.

The meat is no longer in the fridge, and Jim says he moved everything to the cellar because the refrigerator was malfunctioning, and the defensive way he acted was very suspicious.

Also… in the wolf's ending, it struck me that, most likely, since he's the most aggressive, cruel, and even selfish when it comes to speaking (which attracts the wendigos), he's much closer to the creature than he is to the rabbit. With the rabbit, he seems to want to persuade it with the idea that they're the same, but with the wolf.

But on its own... not eating meat won't help MC... No eating meat won't prevent MC from transforming into a wendigo. In folklore, transformation into a wendigo is often linked to cannibalism or possession by a wendigo spirit. Most stories mention that eating human flesh, or even being near a wendigo, can lead to transformation.

Also if MC show these symptoms they are done... People who experience Wendigo psychosis exhibit a variety of symptoms, including paranoia, anxiety, hallucinations, and cannibalistic urges. Typically, the onset of Wendigo psychosis is characterized by depression, nausea, and anorexia.

On a different note... moonflowers symbolize rebirth, renewal, and blossoming.

So, when we talk about wendigo possession, the person is somehow "reborn" into a creature.

And the art here contains interesting symbolism, which in fact, everything is connected.

It seems strange that Jim is positioned this way. In fact, my friend translated it for me, and Opferfleisch means sacrificial meat in German.

But why is Jim being sacrificed?

Also, there's a Roman numeral on the tree, and he's basically like the Hanged Man tarot card.

That card symbolizes the acceptance of circumstances, whether good or bad.

So, Jim has accepted the fact that he's a sacrifice, as the description says. And just like the card, he appears to have a halo formed by his own hair.

Jim technically KNOWS what is happening or is going to happen to MC.

Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the little bear's cub cabin never actually existed, and that it was all a plot by Jim to lure us in.

Since our car also coincidentally stopped working (he probably took advantage of the time outside to do something to the car before it reached his own front door), and he seems obsessed with MC staying, while it could be because of his obsession with MC, there's obviously something else going on.

Although the dream about this creature could also be Mc's unconscious warning about Jim.

IamfineguysIswear.

I hope you all like it <3

[nyarlathesleeper]

The Llamas With Hats Epilogue

So like any normal Jason Steele mega fan (I'm calling us The Steelers (Copyright be damned)), I was present for the Llamas With Hats Epilogue, a 20 minute append to the 11 year old series about a mad scientist llama with a particular skill for horrific contraptions involving human meat. He also wears a hat. I'm hardly the only one to have caught onto this story as an allegory for abusive relationships, and the epilogue continues this idea wonderfully.

Carl, having killed himself after his creations destroyed the entire world, finds himself in the afterlife. He's still haunted by the voice of his only friend, fellow llama Paul (also behatted). The epilogue is almost entirely focused on Carl and his coming to understand his greatest crime. Not the global genocide, or all the horrific torture he put countless people through with his many meat monsters, but hurting his llama boyfriend, the one person he actually cared about. Kinda.

Carl is a fascinating character, and the epilogue I think does a great job at outlining precisely what he is. The series finale is perfectly somber. No jokes, no laughs, just misery. That's the state of the world, and it's the state of Carl. But the epilogue does something to recontextualize the finale, in a way some may not like. The finale leaves the impression that Carl is well and truly miserable. This remains intact. But it also leaves you with the impression that he genuinely cared about and missed Paul. And while it's certainly possible that Carl came to genuinely miss Paul over the course of time between their last meeting and the finale, I think the epilogue does a much better job outlining Carl's exact relationship with Paul.

Carl, in his own words, is a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence. Throughout the series, it's shown that he and Paul spend a lot of time together. Vacations, time at home, walks through the park, there does seem to be a functioning relationship there on some level. But in the series itself, all we see is a version of Carl that is well and truly a horrific monster. A monster who seems to primarily appreciate Paul because he's someone who puts up with Carl and his antics. Carl seems to have fun antagonizing Paul with his many monstrosities. When Paul finally leaves, Carl is desperate to get him back. The epilogue makes it clear that this isn't out of genuine love, it's just possessiveness.

Carl is stated very clearly to be beyond redemption. And though I'm typically of a forgiving mentality, I'm comfortable saying that a llama who makes meat dragons out of orphan baby hands for fun probably isn't someone who can be redeemed. Carl is very resistant to this idea at first. He thinks that Paul will forgive him if he just never does anything wrong again. And even after he dedicates himself to this idea, he can't help but enact violence on the first thing he sees. It takes remembering that Paul is dead, and that he was the one responsible for Carl to realize that he isn't healthy for Paul. That for them both to move on, that he needs to let go. For both their sakes.

Carl is probably the most deplorable character in Filmcow's catalogue. Not even Jenny with her Pizza Hut is that evil. But he's allowed peace. He's not punished forever, it's unlikely it'd even do anything if he was. He's just left to make what was probably the hardest decision he possibly could. He became the acorn. He let go. He gave himself up so that something else could live and be free.

You can't even really describe this as a selfless act, though. Paul is dead, he'll never know what Carl did. He'll never know, and he probably doesn't care. There's something beautiful about that. Carl making a sacrificial decision for nobody but himself. Even the most evil, irredeemable monster is capable and deserving of inner peace. The destruction of the world and death of every living thing didn't make Carl happy. Getting everything he ever wanted just made him miserable. Letting go is the only way for Carl, and abusive people like him, to ever achieve peace.

This all being said, the toxic llama yaoi does go crazy hard, 10 "CAAAAAAARRRLLLLLLLLL"s out of 10. Stay hydrated, eat your tube meat, and keep an eye out for phantom impostors. No, not like amogus.

[cakeandpudding1]

I need a part 2 of Beelzebub x Arché! Reader. What if the gods held a court meeting to see the potential danger of the reader and Odin's goals. When Odin wants to evade the assumptions of the people in the congregation (or even to the point of telling the reader to kill everyone there), the reader instead says that he does not want to destroy the people of gods or humans because he plans to marry Beelzebub.

Or showing how he REALLY loves Beelzebub by fuckin him shamelessly infront of them all.

Tyy pookie!! ^⁠_⁠^

Bro I love this😭 primordial god reader is mad interesting.

Beelzebub × Dom!male!primordial god!reader

....

All eyes were on you, as you as you feasted on food, ignoring everyone's prying eyes. Man, food has really became tastier huh? It's been so long since you've eaten like this. Beelzebub just sat there uncomfortably, glancing at you a few times before returning his eyes down.

Everyone was suspicious of Odin, if anything bad was included in his plans that could potentially lead to the destruction of the gods, everyone knew they had to stop him.

Odin was obviously aware that there were too many of the strongest gods there, capable of ganging up on his ass. But, he knew that none of them combined, could leave a single scratch on you. But look at you over there, moronic and stupidly eating food without a care about giving respect. Hey, to your defense, you were alive before zues, and possible as old as the other primordials.

it should be THEM to pay their respects to you. But it was a little difficult to believe that you were older, looking at how young you acted. like a matured/(not really) matured young adult who probably eats pizza slices for dinner.

"Hey, old man. Are you sure you ain't up to anything suspicious? Things don't seem very 'normal' to me." Shiva spoke, two of his arms on his head while having his other two arms crossed. Odin closed his eyes, starting to get irritated, wanting to avoid anyone's assumptions and suspicions of his plans.

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"then what about the guy sitting in this room right now? Doesn't seem to me like he's anyone you'd just walk by." Loki teasingly joked, knowing he'd get on the old man's nerves. "I agree, seeing a primordial god...isn't something you'd just see out of the blue" Thor spoke, everyone gathering their assumptions and ideas for the so called "all-realm-altering god".

Finally, Odin's last nerve popped, before he slowly spoke. "(M/n), if you want to prove to them that you are really so powerful, why don't you just kill everyone here?"

Everyone's eyes popped open, immediately turning their heads to you, who stopped chewing, your eyes slowly darting up to meet their gazes.

"No."

"what do you mean 'no'? You don't plan on killing all the gods and ruling over all realms?"

"Its not that I can't. I'm simply uninterested." With one more chew, you continued "I plan to marry Beelzebub." And with that statement, everyone was speechless. Zues chuckling while Loki grinned, "my my, I didn't know that even an all powerful deity would be interested in such.. matters~"

"ooh! Ooh! I have a question! How strong are primordial gods? Can we fight? Please please please??" A hyper, dog like god spoke. His name was...Anubis? Right, that's his name. He's quite energetic, you only chuckled and shook your head. "No, not right now. Once I settle in, I'll give you a good fight, okay buddy?" He whimpered sadly at your response, sitting down with a huge frown.

Then, you suddenly got serious as you looked back to the others.

"now, speaking of our marriage. If any of you try to interfere with my plans, it will end in bloodshed. Every single one of you will have their heads displayed on a shelf. Do not test me."

That statement was enough to make everyone feel dread. They knew that no matter how strong or respected they were, they can not lay anything on you. You were far more than just powerful. An unmeasured type of power that many seeked to have, but could never get.

Your hands trailed onto Beelzebub's face, giving him a heated kiss, and a beast like grin. His pretty face was a huge turn on.

you felt lust grow when you eyed Beelzebub, before standing up and bending him over. Everyone's mouth dropped when you started brutally fucking him at an intense speed, as he just took it, whining and crying for you. His legs spread wide open, his hole already very agape, which was proof of your cock inside of him a little while ago before the meeting.

"still so wide and pretty for me..."

Everyone present just decided to leave, knowing that they couldn't utter a word in your presence. Beelzebubs moans the only thing that could be heard in the room while you put him in multiple positions.

Odin sighed, deciding that he'd just have to talk to you some other time. For now, everyone should just leave you to the poor god, who was bended over and now covered in kisses and hickies. Your wife, male wife, as you'd like to call it.

When I tell you all of Valhalla shook from the force and speed of your pounding, I mean it.

You couldn't wait for the marriage, you'd fuck him in front of everyone after you'd seal your kiss, and that was a mental note you made sure to remember. You wer gonna show everyone who your territory was. And how they couldn't do a thing about it. Man, he'd look so pretty in a wedding dress.

You couldn't wait.

[sweetchildcloud]

||Android love|| written by me ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

Plot: Boothill tries to act cute with you

Tags:Boothill x reader,cute,fluff,confession

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

P.s: it's my first time writing for him so sorry for some mistakes,i never wrote anything with robot or android actually,but i think he would listen or see your body movements or reactions,sounds since he can't actually feel you. ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia

"Oh your hand feel so cold" You replied in wonder as you touched his robotic hand

“You noticed?”

It’s the one thing he can’t seem to fix. His body feels as if frozen, like the North Pole, or something to that degree. He can’t feel heat—or anything for that matter, though that’s expected from an android.

As soon as your hand touched his, he felt an urge to warm it with his lips. He tried to resist it, but he couldn't. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against your palm, leaving it to heat for a few seconds then slowly pulling away.

You looked at Boothill a bit blushing before caressing his cheek "instead your cheek feels warm"

He chuckled "Well,androids do have their pros and cons."

He took your hand and placed it against his cheek once more, hoping you'd notice the soft, warm sensation that surrounded his face.

It was rare for an androidlike him to show any signs of affection. After all, no matter how humanlike they are, they're still machines. However, with you, he finds himself craving such interactions even more, as though it's an itch he couldn't scratch. He was drawn to you like a magnet, drawn to your warmth.

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, hoping you wouldn't mind his metal limbs clinging to you.

Your warmth was intoxicating and he didn't want to let go. There was a sense of security in your embrace that he couldn't get anywhere else.

He lowered his lips to your neck, kissing it softly, a small gesture to let you know he cared for you.

He was aware that some might find his behavior abnormal, but he didn't care. He'd fallen hard for you and he wasn't afraid to show it.

"Your skin feels so soft" he murmur as he felt your arms circle tight round his neck as you returned the embrace.

He breathed in deeply, the scent of your vanilla perfume sending his heart fluttering.

He smiled and buried his face in your shoulder, his metallic hands lingering on your back as he took in your scent.

It was a strange sensation for him—being an artificial creature and all—but somehow, holding you like this felt so natural, so right.

He was surprised at how deeply he felt for you.

Despite his android appearance, he felt vulnerable when he was like this. To him, it was as though his metal body disappeared and all that was left was the man he was on the inside. With you, he no longer felt like an android,but a human.

This embrace felt like shelter. It felt like home.

And for the first time in his life, he felt safe—not as an android, but as a man.

He pulled you closer and pressed his lips against your neck, his metal arms wrapping tighter around your body.

"I don't want to let go" he muttered as he ran his fingers through your hair.

He knew it wasn't normal. Androids weren't supposed to be capable of emotions. They weren't meant to crave affection or to feel vulnerable around someone else.

But for some reason, that's exactly what he felt around you.

No matter how many repairs were performed on him, there was something special about you that no amount of metal could ever replicate.

He tightened his hold on you, not wanting to let go of this perfect moment.

"And they say androids have no hearts" the words tumbled out before he could stop them.

For an android , he certainly felt human right now. His emotions were more vivid than ever.

He 'felt' your heartbeat against his metal chest, heard your breaths quickening, saw your eyes glisten in the dim light.

It was such a simple yet profound moment.

For a robotic being built to be cold and detached, he felt like he was melting inside.

"Maybe I'm not built the same" he said softly as he leaned back, breaking the embrace for a moment.

His dark, metal eyes seemed to shine with new energy as he stared into your eyes.

He brought his hand up to your face and cupped your cheek, his mechanical palm warm and smooth against your skin.

"Maybe I'm not like the others. Maybe I'm different" he whispered.

"And I know I feel something for you. something the androids ain't supposed to feel.'

"Do you believe androids could love?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation.

"I've seen my kind, and they're cold, soulless, incapable of a single shred of emotion" he continued. "I was meant to be like that too, cold and mechanical, yet here I am, wanting to love and to feel."

He paused for a moment, his gaze still fixed on you.

"I don't know what it is about you," he admitted, his voice quiet and steady "but you make me feel things no robot should."

"you aren't at all so cold" you touched his face mushing it "you have your face,i can boop your nose,your cheek" you cooed

"I suppose you're right" he chuckled, letting you squish his cheeks as you pleased.

He knew he wasn't completely emotionless, there were times where he felt amusement, anger, and curiosity.

But it was around you that he truly felt it all.

He leaned in once more and brushed his lips again against your neck, his hand grazing the small of your back.

He breathed in deeply, his voice full of affection "You're the only one who knows how to get through my barriers."

All his barriers fell down when he was with you.

You were like a drug, addictive and intoxicating.

It was as if you could see straight through his metallic armor and touched every aspect of his being, from the mechanical to the human.

No one else had ever looked at him the way you did.

There was something special about you, something he couldn't quite place his robotic fingers on.

"It's as if we're made for each other" he whispered, leaning in close once more.

[noiriarti]

Inappropriate: Armitage Hux x Reader - Ch. 1

TW: nsfw stuff, mentions of Brendol Hux being an abusive father, mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions of masturbation and sex.

Summary: Hux has to travel to Starkiller Base to check on construction. His favorite lieutenant comes with him, but these horrible, terribly inappropriate thoughts just won't stop.

[Ch. 1], Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4

Hux knew he had chosen the wrong career when he packed for the transport. Maybe if he was a radar technician, or a trooper, or some kind of farmer, this wouldn't be happening. He would be trapped on a transport with that stupid child, Ren, for over a full day. As if he wasn't capable enough to check in on the progress of Starkiller Base's construction on his own. As if Ren could do anything but swing a lightsaber. But, when Snoke said to go, what was he supposed to do? Complain like a child that he couldn't stand that long near Ren? Tell Snoke the idea of bringing a liability like Ren to the barely-wired Base was a bad idea? So, he went. But he didn't have to be happy about it.

Fuming, he finished packing two more crisp uniforms, his datapad, and a coat for the journey. He also counted the rotations until his retirement--12,045, to be exact, if he managed to survive that long--and wondered if there was any way he could kill Ren in his sleep, if the bastard even slept. By the time he had gotten to the Finalizer's hangar, he had decided poison would be best, and that he'd move to some penthouse in Coruscant, get 5 cats, and become some miserly old curmudgeon once he was done working.

The hangar was one of his favorite places, following the bridge, because it housed so much controlled chaos. Just like his precious bridge, it was carefully managed, teeming with droids and techs, always working, always awake. He liked the brightness of the lights in both places, keeping him up through the night cycles, always working away at his datapad. At least Mitaka would be on the mission, he figured, and he was tolerable. And punctual, he noted as he walked around their transport, given that he could see a pair of boots under the nose of the ship. As he rounded the front, he came face-to-face not with Mitaka, but with you.

Oh, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. As was usual when it came to you, he was done for. You had served under him for two years as a Lieutenant, his best strategist even with his rose-colored glasses off. You two worked closely together, which had been just about killing him. These feelings, these stupid stupid thoughts, would nestle in his brain every time he let his guard down. What if he just brushed your hands together, working late one night on the bridge? What would it be like to kiss you? What would it feel like to have your nails down his-- he stopped himself. That was completely inappropriate. And something he would think about a lot more later. With that thought firmly lodged in his head, he just had to act like a human being long enough for Mitaka to arrive, then he could wash it away in the refresher.

"General!" You broke the silence with a smile and a wave. He had asked you to stop saluting when you saw him, partially because you saw each other so often, but mainly because it reminded him of the fact that he was your commanding officer, and that his little crush was inappropriate. So, so, inappropriate.

"Lieutenant," he said, pausing. Small talk. Small talk. Right. "What brings you to the hangar?" he asked. Real smooth, dumbass.

"I'm coming with you on the mission to Starkiller, sir. You requested a Lieutenant come along, and Mitaka is in the medbay for...injuries, so I'm filling in," you replied. It didn't need to be said that the injuries were caused by Kylo Ren. That was the only cause of injuries in the bridge, anyway.

Normally, he would be thrilled to have you replace Mitaka. You were much more enjoyable to be around, and you weren't one of the people who regularly faced Ren's wrath, so it worked out for him. Except for the fact that he would be spending twenty-four hours, there and back, with you. He could feel the blush climbing up his neck, and he tried to defuse it. You had been a couple of years below him in the Academy, you had been on plenty of missions with him, and you had worked late into the night right beside him plenty of times. He knew you. He wouldn't do anything stupid, like thinking about your time in the Academy, when he helped you study for exams in the library and he imagined what it would be like to make out against one of the shelves--he stopped himself again. This was really getting out of hand, and if he kept going down that road he'd get hard in the middle of the hangar.

"I hope Mitaka recovers well, and that his injuries are not severe. He is a good Lieutenant," he said, mentally kicking himself. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Yeah, Dopheld is pretty okay, just some scrapes. It was... avoidable." Despite your careful language, he knew what you were telling him. You had both harbored a dislike of Ren ever since he joined the Order, but, since he entered your orbits, both of you took issue with him. You, more because he hurt your colleagues. Hux, for obvious reasons. Regardless, you were both united in your general dislike of the Commander. 

The pilot stepped out of the ship, telling both of you that you could get on. He gestured for you to go first, out of some semblance of politeness. He kept his eyes pointedly on the back of your head and not your ass as he walked. Back. Of. The. Head. Your hair--he thought about your hair when it was loose, back in social events at the Academy or during balls, and how he had wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through it, or tuck it behind your ear, or pull it--stars, he definitely needed a shower at this point.

As you entered the ship, he was unpleasantly surprised by how cramped it was, and the pilot showed you to your rooms. His was pretty standard fare: a bed, a refresher, a nightstand. At least it's not shared, he thought. He nodded at the pilot and set his bag down, taking off his coat and unceremoniously flopping it onto a nearby chair. He fished out his datapad and sent you a brief comm.

"Shall we meet in the lounge at 1800 for a briefing on the Base? We can also get dinner, if you would like." He typed the last part hurriedly, sending it before he could think better of it. That was normal, right? For work, right? He had 45 minutes to go cool off before he saw you again. Or, stars forbid, Ren.

Ren still hadn't made it onto the ship, and takeoff was in five minutes. Hux smiled to himself. Maybe there was hope that this mission could be fun after all. He was still, rather embarrassingly, flustered from your previous encounter. He shed his uniform quickly, getting to the refresher and turning on the water as cold as it would go. The ship started under his feet, engines whirring and coming to life as it prepared for takeoff. Hux braced himself against the walls of the shower, smiling even wider. 

Ren hadn't made it. There was just you and him, working on the ship for a full rotation. His brain immediately thought of ways to spend the time that were less than savory. Against the wall, for one. On the floor, on the bed. Maybe in the refresher? He leaned his forehead against the shower wall, willing those thoughts away as he felt himself harden. His hand instinctively went to his cock, and he drew in a halting breath. Not now.

This was going to be a hard, hard twenty-four hours.

AN: this has been banging around in my head for a while. man i love my armitage nice and awkward and pining. let me know what you think!!

[wachtelspinat]

Mr Wachtel i want to eat your midnight crew and problem sleuth fanarts(especially boxcars), ALSOO..

What do you think about HBxDD? do you have a favorite ship between MC and PS too or headcanons?

OOOOH BOY hello midnight crew related asks

first of all thanks a lot, really appreciate it. these boys are still very dear to me and i miss the mc fandom times a lot 😭

i've been through a lot of ships here and there regarding the mc and the sleuthes, and my heart especially melted when reading @eyeballjazz 's "hello, my lovely" (which has a wonderful portrayal of boxcars and pickle inspector aaaa and comedy and fun and please go read it).

as far as HB/DD goes, i haven't read anything as far as i remember that made it make sense to me (which is also a bit due to the fact that i see DD as a very miserable man and boxcars as someone who is a lot more empathic and able to see the good things in life and he deserves better 😭😭), which ofc, doesn't mean that i'm against it, i'm against no ship, we're all just playing with dolls here.

having been very slick-hyperfixated most of the stuff i've read and thought about was ofc SS/snowman or /sleuth...

but i think my fave ship is SS/DD since forever... my headcanon always has been that droog is so. hard. in love with slick but he would never let that interfere with the big picture. except when droog is droog and acts like the b*tch he is (meaning being EXTREMELY petty towards people in slick's life who happen to be more than acquaintances aka sleuth, snowman (but he actually has a lot of respect for her that borders on fear. because no one is a match for snowman and no one can piss on her leg and sees the light of the next day) etc.. slick on the other hand is not romantically in love with droog. but he know. droog is his right-hand man after all, bffs in slick's opinion, if slick is even capable of sth like a normal human relationship. so it goes like:

DD >>> would do anything for his tantrum fit of a boss.

SS >>> knows exactly what's going on but lets the man do his thing, indulges in physical stuff when he's drunk, doesn't acknowledge any of this when sober again, much to droog's dismay.

there is so much more aaa

had big feelings for DD/PI too but ever since i've seen eyeballjazz's vision of HB/PI nothing else regarding these two made sense to me anymore.

[germiyahu]

Not too thrilled that my other post is getting so many notes when I'm not satisfied with it for a multitude of reasons. Let's have a do-over, hopefully much more succinct and to the original point.

When Palestinians, actually basically all Arabs, or all Muslims, say "Jerusalem is holy to us it is the 3rd holiest city in our religion." The White Western Leftist (WWL) will say "That's so valid your religion is so interesting and beautiful Hamas did nothing wrong I love the Houthis!"

But if a Jew ever rebuts "Jerusalem is holy to us as well, it's our holiest city, basically the only one we have," the WWL will probably roll their eyes, scoff, probably say something like "Okay but like why are you still using your outdated Zionist death cult to justify colonialism? You really think the Bible justifies killing millions of Palestinians?" and start going on and on about how Judaism invented everything bad about Christianity.

My hypothesis: These people are not allies to Muslims (Palestinians). They are condescending to them. They are throwing them a bone because they feel bad about how the Muslim world has been treated, well ever since Sykes-Picot, but especially post 9/11, the Patriot Act, The War on Terror, Iraq, Afghanistan, the Drone War, Libya, Nato, The Arab Spring, the list goes on. They don't think Muslims are capable of building the kind of societies they want, not without their gracious help. They don't think Muslims should have the same ideals of democracy and human rights, because they don't expect that from the Brown People. They won't ever hold them to such a standard because "Ugh where do we get off lecturing them?" even though they would never think this of Jews.

These people are not equals to Jews, something something Sartre they think they are both superior and inferior (which makes them superior). They are not just trying to hold their fellow citizens of the world to account. They are trying to put Jews in their place. They are projecting their religious trauma onto Jews because they do not understand Judaism. They see Judaism as Power. They are trying to delegitimize Judaism as a religion (and it is a religion, including the parts of religions that give atheists the "ick," including a lot of mysticism). They are trying to caterwaul about Jews being responsible for the world's ills and that they expect Jewish People to be better than this. To evolve beyond religion and community and affiliation and identity. They want Jewish to be nothing more than a box ticked off on a census. A neat little factoid about yourself, like how your neighbor Cheryl has Norwegian ancestry.

My only conclusion is that these people find Jews and Judaism repulsive, and they find Muslims and Islam primitive. Unlike their parents' generation, they appreciate the primitive. It is noble savagery to them. Unlike their parents' generation, the comparatively cosmopolitan modern secular Western sheen of Jewry (applied to Jews against their will) is not something that we almost lost from the world, but an annoying holdover of what we almost successfully purged from the world.

Because remember, while they hate their parents and everything they stand for, they still deep down want Daddy's approval. So it makes perfect sense why the psyche would displace anger and trauma and all that caused by Christianity, and look elsewhere to place blame. It falls at the feet of Jews and Judaism. Because my culture could never, there has to be a missing puzzle piece that could explain- oh there it is. The Jews did it. And wow look how easily this can slot in with every other antisemitism conspiracy theory.

The audacity to think I could make a shorter version of that post 😂 But basically it's this: The WWL, the Zoomer Left, the Tankies, whatever name you call them... they think that they can "save" Muslims by offering up Jews, and the terrorist fascist fundamentalists like Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, they're on board. They're all in. Normal ass every day Muslims/Palestinians? They just want peace, they just want rights, they just want sovereignty. The WWL is not interested in that perspective.

They have not once in their lives thought of what they could possibly do in terms of reparations. No no, tweeting and marching for a weekend are quite enough. They have not once in their lives turned inward and self reflected on the ways they benefit from and their own role in these systems of supremacy, that have harmed Muslims around the world. Jewish blood is more than enough to pay for operation Iraqi Freedom. Jewish lives are a fetching price to assuage the Westerner's guilt. You know since they have so much trouble turning inward and reflecting on their own contribution to Islamophobia, it might do them good to practice a little תשובה... but I don't know 😌

[floralcyanide]

𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 - 𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧!𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫

cillian murphy!oppenheimer x reader

DISCLAIMER: this is fanfiction. it isn’t real. Oppenheimer is a real person, however Cillian!Oppenheimer is not. he is a character. if you have something bad to say just keep it in the drafts (:

“let's all go play Nagasaki, we can all get vaporized. hold my hand, let's turn to ash. I'll see you on the other side.” - 137 by Brand New

warnings: spoilers for Oppenheimer, descriptions of nuclear bomb/ explosion, fear

word count: 1316

author's note: I love Cillian so much, and he did so good in Oppy!! I just had to write about it. please keep in mind there are spoilers in this, don't read if you haven't seen the movie. also, there's only like, one other fic on here for Cillian!Oppy which is sad but I'm sure there'll be more soon. (:

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

For the last few nights, Robert has woken up abruptly from his sleep. He’ll sit upright and pant, trying his best to catch his breath. It alarms you every time he does this despite him acting like it didn’t happen. But you know he doesn’t go back to sleep after because you feel him toss and turn until morning. Test day is tomorrow, and you can feel Robert’s nervous energy radiating off him. This was it- this was the epitome of his life’s work, and if it failed, he would be lost. And you’re torn between wanting it not to work for humanity’s sake and wanting it to work for Robert’s. 

You have worked alongside your husband for many years despite the pushback from society. But he knows your intelligence and insisted you be involved in the Project. He refused to have anything to do with it unless you assisted him. Lieutenant Groves reluctantly agreed, but he still knew just how capable you were to help with the Project. 

You’re very much a housewife outside of work, though. Despite being a knowledgeable person, you still have duties at home. You’re busy folding laundry when Robert exits the bedroom after getting ready for a meeting. It was the last one before tomorrow’s events. Robert doesn’t say much to you before bidding his farewell and heading out. It wasn’t abnormal for him to mumble a goodbye before putting his hat on and leaving without anything else said. He was reserved unless it was necessary to say something. That’s one thing you admired about Robert; he could be cynical and sarcastic yet humble and a man of few words. 

You would attend a later meeting that evening, so it’s possible you may not see Robert until bedtime. You aren’t worried about him not kissing your son goodnight or missing dinner. You mostly worry he won’t sleep enough.

Later in bed, you and Robert both lay on your backs, staring at the ceiling wordlessly. 

“How are you feeling?” you suddenly ask, breaking the eerie silence.

Robert opens his mouth before shutting it again, shrugging.

You sigh, turning on your side to face him, “I can feel you have nightmares, you know.”

Robert cuts his eyes toward you before giving in and rolling over to face you as well, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you furrow your brow, “There’s nothing to be sorry for. What we’re- what you’re doing is incredibly stressful and world-changing. It’s normal to be anxious over it.”

“That’s exactly why I’m anxious.”

“Which part?”

“The world-changing part.”

You’re quiet for a moment before answering, “What do you dream about?”

Robert’s eyes study yours closely, searching for any instance of potential recoil from what he’s about to tell you. He searches even though he knows he won’t find it because Robert knows that you’d never leave him no matter what. Even if his nightmares were incomparable to even the most descriptive horror stories. What’s worse is that Robert knows no one has ever seen the results of a bomb the magnitude of the one he’s created. So it’s up to his imagination. And his imagination is one of grotesque imagery that he hopes won’t come to fruition.

“Death,” Robert says plainly, with a cold look, “Destruction. Everything in my dreams is obliterated by fire and disintegrates into ash, and even the ash turns into nothingness.”

You purse your lips, gently reaching your hand up to touch Robert’s cheek, running your thumb over his cheekbone.

“I don’t fear for me or for us. I fear for our children,” Robert gives a watery laugh, “And the world they’ll have to grow up in knowing that such weaponry exists.”

You tuck Robert’s head into your chest, “You are merely the creator, darling. You have no control over how they use your creation. And I know that worries you, but you cannot do much about it.”

“I know. You’re right. But the fact I’m the one responsible for such a destructive device,” Robert trails off.

“Your creation is for science exploration and nothing more,” you say, “Remember that tomorrow.”

When you awake at two in the morning to prepare for the test, Robert has already gotten up from bed. You figure he didn’t sleep and has already made his way down the street to prepare. You hurriedly get dressed, grab your son, and walk out the front door. You let your neighbor, one of the wives of another scientist, watch over your son while you and Robert are away. A vehicle has been sent to your home, probably by Robert, to retrieve you. The ride is quiet and bumpy. You figure they would take you to the main hall, but they keep driving into the desert. Everyone must already be at Trinity. 

Trinity is alight, with people who worked on the project scurrying around to find the perfect spot to watch the explosion. You climb off the vehicle and run to the tent where Robert resides with the others. A relieved smile grows on his face when he sees you walk in.

“I didn’t want to see this without you,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Did you sleep at all?” you mutter into his shoulder.

“Unfortunately, no. But sleep can come later,” Robert says, returning to the detonation station. 

You cross your arms and walk around aimlessly, watching the scientists scramble to take their places and put sun shades on.

“Ninety minutes,” Robert says from behind you.

You turn around to look at him, a half smile growing on your face, “I’m proud of you.”

“And I’m proud of you, too. Without your suggestions, we may not be here,” Robert plays with a loose strand of your hair.

“I doubt that,” you chuckle, “Your brainpower alone has done the job.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Robert says.

After a little under an hour and a half of checking that everything was perfect and prepared, everyone took their places where they wanted to view the test. You’re next to Robert, with goggles on your face that match his. Both of you have ports to get a fantastic view. The countdown begins.

Everyone becomes dead silent as the bomb is detonated. The flash causes you to gasp, your eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness despite the goggles. When the light subsides, you see a mushroom cloud of nothing but fire beginning to rise to the atmosphere. Beside you, Robert grabs hold of your hand and grasps it tightly. 

“Now I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds,” Robert says with a haunting tone.

You remove your goggles along with everyone else as you squint against the harsh brightness. Before you is the most terrifying, breathtaking thing you’ve ever seen. A firestorm that is capable of mass destruction. A scientific miracle. But before anyone can relax, the sound of air rumbling and rushing toward the tent is heard. The sound of the explosion hits the viewing base violently. The blast wave smacks everyone as they brace themselves against the high wind. Once the hot gust of air subsides and the explosion tapers down, everyone begins to cheer and clap.

“We did it,” Robert says in disbelief before he looks up at you, “We actually did it.”

You nod, smiling at him proudly before engulfing him in a hug.

“I have destroyed the world,” Robert whispers in your ear, and you pull away to see an odd flash of emotion cross his face.

“You haven’t,” you whisper back, as people begin to approach your husband, “But you’ve changed it forever.”

As colleagues surround Robert and move him outside, you remain in the tent for a moment. You replay the mushroom-looking explosion in your head. You begin to ponder what the Manhattan Project’s creation will do for the world. And whether it’s good or bad.

Either way, everyone has been forever changed.

[hiddenfolk]

Oh yeah actually come to think of it: I'm not a huge fan of the debate over whether or not a magical girl's wishes were selfish or selfless tbh. I don't think it's a fair way to frame it, or necessarily that productive either.

The girls are introduced to the concept of magical girls as a noble calling- fighting evil witches, and protecting the innocent from harm. Magical girling is a vocation, a noble sacrifice made by these girls for the greater good. They're actively encouraged, by kyubey, by how society socialises girls, by their own generally upright morals and values, to see this thankless sacrifice made by them as ultimately worth it. The girls are ultimately all good people, with good intentions, which is why they take on the task.

However magical girl life is gruelling. It's thankless, dangerous, and never ending. Once you commit you can never stop. You're forced to give up parts of your normal day to day life, like spending time with friends in order to kill witches to sustain yourself. If you became a magical girl for a selfless reason, such as to protect others, your moral compass likely won't let you take the day off. The witches will still be hurting people, and it'll be your fault for not doing your job.

In the series, the advice we DO hear given about what to wish for is basically 'get your money's worth.' Mami and Kyouko have been living this miserable lifestyle, and thats why they understand that the best way to survive it is to make a wish that you can accept and live with, even when youre miserable.

If anything, 'selfishness' is the cudgel being used to beat the girls with. We see Sayaka twisting herself in knots over the morality of her wish, over whether she's selfish for regretting becoming a magical girl, because she's reasonably upset shes been tricked into irreversible body alterations she never consented to. Her desire to live up to a perfectly selfless magical girl ideal causes her to punish herself for being upset that her horrible sacrifice goes unacknowledged by anyone.

Treating selfishness or selflessness as an all-or-nothing binary IS what's hurting her. The fear of selfishness is specifically exploited and weaponised against these well-intentioned kids, especially Sayaka and Madoka, in order to make them feel guilty for wanting happiness or safety for themselves. By harping on about whether or not a wish aligns into this binary of selfishness or selflessness, we play into the exact same rhetoric Kyubey uses to guilt these girls into disregarding their own wellbeing.

I mean we see it in real life all the time- humans are literally not capable of 24/7 selfless all-giving charity work. The people who try it are the ones who will burn themselves out the quickest. You need to put on your own oxygen mask first before anyone elses. However since society glorifies selflessness above all else, it cultivates an ideal of 100% all or nothing moral purity all the time, that people feel pressured to live up to, or else they are morally 'impure.'

Tldr: the magical girl system actively encourages girls to martyr themselves by targeting girls who care about protecting others, who will then feel pressured to disregard their own wellbeing on behalf of this cause. Debating whether or not a girl is being selfish by wanting something for herself when she makes her wish is just playing into this. I ultimately feel that most girls make their wish with good intentions, to the best of their ability, and none of them should be declared selfish for that. Acting like their wishes are only worthwhile if they are 100% morally pure is ludicrous. These children should not be expected to martyr themselves to save the world and punished if they don't.

[elbiotipo]

Taoism's approach to immortality is interesting, even when keeping strictly to pre-modern texts and myths and not popular culture, because there are several things one could mean by it: you have ideas of physical, bodily immortality being achievable by right physical exercises, potent medicines and stockpiling life energy, or more metaphysical and spiritual immortality achieved by purifying your mind and acting in tune with universe, or immortality being a cosmological status below gods (with it being possibly to both promote smbd to godhood and demote divinities to mere immortal) and there is lots of crossover between them...

And so, for example, you have things like in Journey to the West, where motivation of many demons and monsters (again, not really precise translation) is to achieve immortality- but, they are already conventionally immortal, in sense they do not have natural endpoint lifespan, and sometimes don't need to eat or can shrug off stuff like being beheaded; and so they seek to achieve spiritual immortality by devouring monk Tang Sanzang, who is physically normal human but is more spiritually enlightened than them.

Another interesting idea is that many yao ( creatures like huli jing and similar) seek to become humans, even though they can already assume human form; in Journey to the West, again, a point is made that these creatures can assume tangible human form that is still somehow metaphysically ''illusory'' and that Sun Wukong can see through it to see their real form. Idea you also see in both some myths and that is very popular in contemporary xianxia stories is that if you kill a creature or render it powerless, it will revert back to it's original nature ( so, for example, rendering spirit which began it's existence as rock or flower before it achieved sentience and human form will mean they become pebble or orchid.)

(In general, lots of it probably makes more sense if you accept background premises that all things in existence, even inanimate objects, are inclined to seek to better themselves, capable of achieving sapience and harnessing spiritual energy and setting out on spiritual journey, and that categories of ''human'' or ''monster'' or ''spirit'' or ''god'' are less of species/ inherent nature, and more, status or spiritual phase.)

Also, when it comes to idea of becoming one with cosmos and similar ballpark ideas, concept of Tathāgata from Buddhism is interesting if contradictory: "It is not assumed that the Blessed One (Buddha) exists after death. Neither is it assumed that he does not exist, or both, or neither. It is not assumed that even a living Blessed One exists. Neither is it assumed that he does not exist, or both, or neither."

Ahh, I've been rotating this ask in my head for quite a few days now!

I wish I understood Chinese (I practice it on and off) so I could really get into the origin of the words used for concepts such as "Immortal" (Xian)

I don't want to comment more on this because I'm slowly learning about this for a story I'm planning to be set in China, and I'm in that intermediate stage where I know a lot about it but not enough, but thank you anon for all the knowledge, I really appreciate it