#the Instrumentality of Mankind

[yellow-yarrow]

girl who only thinks about (disco) elysium: i'm getting a lot of elysium vibes from this

[arcticdementor]

On the history of catgirls, in meme format:

Broke: talking about Masamune Shirow's Puma sisters

Woke: talking about Osamu Tezuka's Bagi

Bespoke: talking about Cordwainer Smith's C'mell

[crow-with-a-knife]

I am so angry I do not already know so many instruments on a professional level

[utsaahpsychologyclinic]

"This self-love is the instrument of our preservation; it resembles the provision for the perpetuity of mankind: it is necessary, it is dear to us, it gives us pleasure, and we must conceal it."

[infactforgetthepark]

[Free eBook] The Best of Cordwainer Smith by Cordwainer Smith [Vintage Classic Science Fiction]

The Best of Cordwainer Smith by the late Cordwainer Smith, the sfnal writing pseudonym of scholar Paul Linebarger, edited by J. J. Pierce, is a collection of vintage science fiction stories, free for a limited time courtesy of publisher Phoenix Pick Press.

This is their featured Free Ebook of the Month offer for March and was originally published in 1975 by Ballantine Books as part of their Ballantine's Classic Library of Science Fiction line. A bonus freebie from February is also still offered, the fantasy Earth Magic by Alexei & Cory Panshin, as well as a tie-in discount to another Smith novel.

The collection contains a selection of Smith's short stories and novelettes from the 1950s and 1960s in his Instrumentality of Mankind future setting where humanity has colonized a number of other planets, plus two essays by editor Pierce about the author and the Instrumentality universe. Several stories have been much-translated, and one of the novelettes was nominated for the Retro Hugo Award which recognizes early sfnal work from before the awards' creation.

Offered DRM-free worldwide through the month of March and probably until April 3rd (the offer usually rotates on the first Tuesday of each month), available directly from the publisher.

Free for a limited time through March directly @ the publisher's special promo page (DRM-free ePub & Mobi bundle available worldwide in return for your valid email address; follow the instructions on the page to reset the suggested cart price to $0.00 during checkout)

There's also a discounted tie-in offer for $2.99 of a reprint of Cordwainer Smith's 1975 novel Norstrilia, a dystopian planetary adventure in the Instrumentality of Mankind universe, originally published by Ballantine Books (now a Penguin Random House imprint). This has previously been offered free and also in a number of other tie-in sales, so you might already have a copy.

Description Cordwainer Smith was one of the original visionaries to think of humanity in terms of thousands of years in the future, spread out across the universe. This brilliant collection, often cited as the first of its kind, explores fundamental questions about ourselves and our treatment of the universe (and other beings) around us and ultimately what it means to be human.

In “Scanners Live in Vain” we meet Martel, a human altered to be part machine—a scanner—to be able withstand the trauma space travel has on the body. Despite the stigma placed on him and his kind, he is able to regrasp his humanity to save another.

In “The Dead Lady of Clown Town” we get to know the underpeople—animals genetically altered to exist in human form, to better serve their human owners—and meet D’Joan, a dog-woman who will make readers question who is more human: the animals who simply want to be recognized as having the same right to life, or the people who created them to be inferior.

In “The Ballad of Lost C’mell” the notion of love being the most important equalizer there is—as first raised in “The Dead Lady of Clown Town”—is put into action when an underperson, C’mell, falls in love with Lord Jestocost. Who is to say her love for him is not as valid as any true-born human? She might be of cat descent, but she is all woman!

And in “A Planet Named Shayol” it is an underperson of bull descent, and beings so mutilated and deformed from their original human condition to be now considered demons of a hellish land, who retain and display the most humanity when Mankind commits the most inhumane action of all.

[imaginesbymonika]

LOML- loss of my life | Prologue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Plot: You knew him at a time when he didn't, and now he is looking for you...

Warnings: depiction of violence, angst, mentions of (perhaps) death, angst, fluff at the end (maybe), takes place after TFATWS

Bucky didn't like to think back to the years when he was working for Hydra. No matter how many times people named him a victim, an instrument - it didn't change the fact that he was operating for them. Going on those missions- slaughtering hundreds of people. Innocent fucking civilians. He couldn't possibly look past that. His therapist informed him that this kind of mindset is what's keeping him from fully recovering.

Maybe she was right about that.

Perhaps that was the root of his never-ending nightmares. The ones where he can still smell the blood whenever he wakes up in a cold sweat. Where he stares down at his hands, and for a split second he can catch a glimpse of their blood. Or maybe it is his blood. He lost track of that a long time ago.

A couple of months ago he had read a psychology book where someone argued that memories are primarily silent. And he couldn’t have thrown that book any faster against the closest wall. Because fuck whoever wrote that piece of crap. He’d be happy if for once he couldn’t hear the screaming of his victims, their begging and crying…followed by his metal arm making this eerie sound whenever it crushed someone’s spine into little pieces.

Bucky takes a deep breath. God, how he yearned and wished for silence. But then again, God has abandoned him a while ago.

His dreams only consist of flashbacks. Please, I have children waiting for me at home! Stop, stop, that hurts! Your work is fundamental for mankind! Oh my god, please stop! Make this stop, please! My oldest is 7! Please, don’t forget that you’re still human underneath it all. Bucky’s eyes open and when he sits up he can not stop gasping for air. Please, don’t forget you’re still human underneath it all.

He inspects his worn out features in the mirror. When had he started to dream of her? When did she manage to tiptoe her way into this hellfire of memories? What was her name again?

You slightly flinched when Pierce's hand made contact with The Winter Soldier’s cheek. The sound echoed through the empty corridors of the facility. And her gaze quickly drops to her clipboard. Everybody around her was silent, staring at either the long-haired man or the one in the suit. Pierce looked beyond furious before his eyes fell on you and he cleared his throat:” What are you writing down.”

Fuck. You took a deep breath, and quickly improved your posture:” I am just documenting the bruising, Sir.” The older man hummed and furrowed his eyebrows:” Let me see.” Out of nowhere, he snatched the clipboard out of your hands. You slightly groan at the burning sensation the plastic left on your skin. The entire time, you were able to feel The Winter Soldier's eyes on you. How you loathed this job. But you needed to remind yourself that you didn’t have much of a choice, whether or not you wanted to be there. For almost three years, you were one of the top physicians at NYC’s best hospital. Then one evening, while you were walking back to your car, you got kidnapped. You-

“Bucky?”, Sam’s voice brings him back into the present: “Are you still with me?” There is a playfulness to his voice. One that quickly disappears, once Sam notices the look on his friend’s face. And for a few seconds, the two men just look at one another, before Bucky shakes his head:” Yeah no. I’m fine.”

“You’re gone a lot these days.”

Bucky tilts his head and blinks in perplexity:” What’s that supposed to mean? We have been working on this case together since last week, we-.”

“Mentally, Bucky.”, Sam cuts him off and brings his cup of coffee up to his lips. And he can detect an emotion in Bucky’s eyes that tells him he struck a nerve. There is a heavy silence filling the kitchen before Sam speaks up again, his voice gentle and understanding:” Where are you going?”

[hazelsmirrorball]

 Rockstar girlfriend | Hazel Callahan

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader summary: Y/n despises Hazel and due to that they decide to put them together in a PR relationship Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Heavy make out session, English isn’t my main language  a/n: This is going to be several parts, hope you enjoy!

part two. part three. part four.

There were a few words Y/n could use to describe Hazel Callahan. Annoying, cocky, rude, careless, egotistical, arrogant and the list goes on and on. Y/n could talk for days about her hatred towards the girl but she was aware that the only thing she couldn’t call her was untalented. 

Hazel was an excellent song writer and a perfect musician. She played every single instrument known to mankind and she had a voice of an angel. She had several awards to her name, best song writer, song of the year, best music video, best upcoming artist, Every category that existed, she had won. Y/n would bet that with all the money she had, she probably paid someone just to come to her house to clean her grammys just to get her daily doses of ego up.

 Hazel Callahan had everything. Her band, The Bottoms, was selling hit after hit, becoming one of the best Rock bands to ever exist. Yeah, PJ, Josie and Hazel were talented, she really couldn’t deny that but did they really have to rub it in their faces? It seemed that everywhere Y/n went Hazel seemed to follow her. Billboards in Time Square haunted her, magazines with their recent shoot in her local supermarket made her scream, The band being featured in her favorite show made her break the remote,  the loud mall speaker blaring their music drove Y/n to the edge. Everyone wanted something to do with the band collabs, interviews, photoshoots, hell they even had their own toothbrush line. But the thing that drove Y/n insane was the fact that Hazel’s band was under the same record label and management as Y/n. 

Isabel, Brittney and Y/n made it their life mission to work hard to get to where they were. Sure they didn’t play instruments on stage like The Bottoms or made your ears bleed with the hard rock music but they had managed to make actual good music with dance moves. They were the pop girlies people would die for but due to the fact that Hazel’s mother had something to do with the record company everything related to them always came second. 

Y/n hated Hazel because everything she worked so hard for was pushed to the side because she was mommy's little princess and it drove her insane. She could do elaborate dances, make the best song to mankind and she would still come out second place.  

Y/n wasn’t the best when it came to hiding her feelings, so it was pretty obvious that she couldn’t stand being in a room with Hazel for more than one minute. At first, some people of the management team found out but they simply brushed it off thinking it was some type of petty drama. The higher ups started noticing the glares or scoff Y/n would throw to Hazel’s way. But Y/n had dropped a big one, by writing a song indirectly hitting hatred towards a certain girl. It wasn’t hard for the fans to get the hint, clicking every interview or award show where both girls were seen together. Everything made sense but this caused everyone to start taking sides which wasn’t good for any of the bands. That’s when their PR team went to work and that’s how Y/n found herself straddling Hazel's lap waiting for the paparazzi to show up to take a picture of the two. 

If they wanted people to get out of their business and think that the song wasn’t about her and that she actually tolerated Hazel they needed to be spotted making out. The perfect idea, at least that was how both PR teams made it seem. It was an opportunity for both bands to finally click together and Y/n was getting the short end of the stick. 

Y/n let out a groan, already frustrated in the situation she was in. Her hand rested on Hazel's cheek while Hazel's hands gripped on her waist, her cold rings sending shivers to her spine. They had been straddling each other for the past 45 minutes in Hazel’s car waiting for the paps to show up. 

“When are they getting here? Isabel said that they were going to show up half an hour ago. I’m already done with this shit” She muttered as she attempted to sit straighter, her skirt slowly rising up making Hazel sneak a discreet look. 

“Why are you so eager to leave? I thought we were having fun” Hazel responded sarcastically as she rested a hand on her thigh squeezing it a little to make her stay still.  Y/n looked away from the car window and focused her gaze on Hazel’s blue eyes. 

“Well, I would enjoy spending my weekend on top of someone that I can actually stand, rather than being here with you.” She said, sending her way a fake smile. Hazel rolled her eyes tapping her thigh sending her one of her famous smiles that Y/n was tired of seeing in those damn magazines that stayed near her night stand. 

“Really? I didn’t know you had so much action? By the looks of it you are turned on just by my hand gripping on your thigh. Don’t worry, if you want you can grind on it” She responded with a cocky smirk , making Y/n slap the side of her head making Hazel let out a loud laugh. 

“You really think you're the shit, can you jus..” Y/n got cut off by Hazel placing her thumb on top of her lips, grazing them softly. 

“All you do is bitch and moan with those damn pretty little lips of yours, can’t you do something else?” Hazel said her soft breaths hitting her lips. Y/n could feel the space in the car getting closer as Hazel’s eyes gazed at her lips. “Not so vocal anymore, what happened, cat got your tongue?” 

“You always have to rui..” Y/n started but got cut once again by Hazel’s lips on her. It took Y/n a few for her to kiss back but as a few seconds passed by she finally caught herself kissing back. Both of the girls kissed desperately fighting for dominance or finally letting out that sexual tension that they’ve bottled up for years. 

Hazel's hand reached towards Y/n’s ass, gripping harshly making her moan. Y/n’s hand gripped on Hazel’s hair as she let out a low whimper making Y/n smirked into the kiss. Before she could even think about a comeback, her thoughts got snapped into reality by seeing flash coming towards the window. 

“Don’t worry, I take my job really seriously so don’t take that kiss to heart sweetheart. Take this as excuse about writing a song about me but this time, don’t say I’m a bad kisser” 

part two part three

[gojicorps]

I've been trying to make this post for a while... This is my OC "master post"

This is Ltw, if you dig stories of super heroes with a bunch of teenager drama and high school tropes, this isn't the story for you! Sorry, but this gender is already really saturated so I tried to mix and match different tropes across the medias to create a weird love letter to Comics, Tokusatsu and anything that I really enjoy. It's a coming of age story about Hart Lee Valentine, who chose to left his father house to live with his uncle in a city called Saint Expedite, famous for crimes, urban legends and some of the worst pizza you can ever imagine, an absolute paradise for someone who really wants to have a fresh restart in life.

The cast consists mainly of this 5 characters.

Hart Lee Valentine: He's the son of the smartest man alive... But this is just a media claim, his father helped cure one of the weirdest illness know to mankind. But that doesn't matter at all, Valentine is already living under the shadow of his only parent alive (wink, wink) he starts as a calm and collected person but gradually starts loosing his manners, becoming an unhinged not so crazy science. He has an odd sense of justice but he's MOSTLY a pacifist who will try to talk before throwing hands around.

His favorite animals are moths and ducks, dor different reasons, in his opinion moths are our saviours from the monstrosities called butterflies. And ducks because he loves how versatile they are, he identifies with that Jack of all trades style.

Sadako Atsuko: She's the local emo weirdo girl of the class, nobody knows much about her and her brother Helis, they live together in a mansion in the middle of the city, she's always tired, not in the best mood and usually sassy. People don't know but she's actually heiress of The Atsuko family, one of Japan's most advance tech companies, she's also a city vigilant who uses fear to stop crime... Yeah she's basically my universe version of the Batman, her character is driven by masks and alter egos, she feels incapable of leading a normal life since she's shattered between personas, not knowing who's the real her, not knowing how to express her true self. Those burdens started to get louder to the point she started playing instruments, as a therapy, but this basically turned into another problem, her days are getting too short to accomplish all her desires.

Her favorite animal is the bat, the long eared ones! So yeah she's basically using a fursuit to fight crime.

Helis: Sadako's adoptive brother, he's basically the group heart, trying to make their maniacal schemes be a little more unhinged, he's the protector and the tallest one of them. Those responsabilities are instantly forgotten when he's near Valentine, something about him makes Helis adopt a more act first think later persona, but they usually have fun with that. He's the one that gives unsolicited advices with the bestest intentions he wants to know more about his origin and maybe who's his real family but that's more a monkey palm situation that doesn't goes well when he meets his father and sister. He usually helps Sadako in her schemes, usually to treat her wounds while calls her irresponsible, dummy or anything in between those lines (she doesn't even get a cute animal band-aid...) oh he has an abnormal strength and light based power's, but that doesn't matter much to him.

His favorite animals are giraffes, he likes that they have the strongest kick, and besides their pattern is beautiful.

Ettore Zanchini: the definition of overcompensate! He simply is a tryhard in absolutely everything, he has a rivalry with Helis, Sadako and sometimes even Valentine, everything he does is trying to be the best. He likes classy outfits and good manners, he's a true gentleman with a short temper and overachiever, even though he doesn't need to prove himself that much. He's the best athlete of the school and won several fencing medals, he usually fights using two rapiers for the simple reason that this is a really dumb idea, so it's a good exercise.

He really likes Wolves and Stags, specially because they're the princes of the forest, he definitely cried with Bambi but keeps it hidden.

Stefanny: Starting as a villainess, Stef is the last one to join the crew, she's really unused to a bunch of stuff the others enjoy but tries her best to get ahold of everything, she's not the warmest person and can be really misunderstood, she's gruff and goes direct to the point in most of her interactions, some have the audacity to call her impolite, BUT SHE'S NOT! She's just not used to have conversations longer than 45 seconds or with people that aren't psycho's, she and Sadako get along pretty well, perhaps because of all their battles and training, oh and even though she's all cool and collected... She has fire powers, yeah they are neat I guess.

Her favorite animal are salamanders, she loves those little moist dragons!

[sugar-grigri]

Crazy theory, but since I don't really read them, I don't know if it's ever been mentioned before.

I've already talked about this urge to discover the demon of death. So much so that fans see them in every new character introduced.

We know that Pochita punctuates both the birth and death of demons with his chainsaws.

I've always been surprised by the way Pochita calmly took hold of Makima, allowing Denji to knowingly save her by recommending that he give her love

Just as I'm surprised by Fami's interest in separating Chainsaw Man just as Yoru is stubbornly intent on revenge

How can these three horsemen of the apocalypse have so much interest and connection with a single demon?

We already know that Fujimoto has opted for the metaphorical, choosing the instrument designed for childbirth: the chainsaw, as the keystone of his story.

Chainsaw Man is intrinsically linked to birth and death

Denji's rebirth alone is linked to death having been cut up as well as Pochita?

Demons are born out of fear of one thing, so I know it might be strange that Pochita, representing chainsaws, represents death and isn't the chainsaw demon.

But two things: firstly, the impostor is actually the real chainsaw demon.

Fujimoto likes to undo our first impressions, so I find it absolutely INCREDIBLE that Denji should be the impostor from the start, the false Chainsaw Man in a part 2 that focuses on identity.

Secondly, how can simple chainsaws have so much power? I mean, sure, they're scary, but how can they have so much power as to be able to wipe out demons? Why should it be the chainsaw demon who's capable of this, and death remains crouched in the shadows?

This would also explain his promiscuity with the other Knights of the Apocalypse.

The demon of control wanted to play with Pochita - death was the only thing she couldn't totally control, the only thing she aspired to be on an equal footing with.

If Pochita understood her so well, it was as the fourth knight of the apocalypse. If Makima considered him her equal, it was because she couldn't control a demon she knew to be of her own rank. The logic follows with Nayuta.

The demon of war doesn't accept death, it accepts to spread it through conflicts and weapons of mass murder, but a general doesn't accept that death can touch him too. To spread death represents victory, to be touched by it a defeat that demands vengeance.

Famine works hand in hand with death, and is feared because suffering and death are the end result of not being able to eat. She's the one with the clearest goal at the moment: to save humanity. She doesn't hesitate to recruit her fellow Apocalypse members, whether it's proposing it to Nayuta, trying to recruit Asa and Yoru, or splitting Chainsaw Man in two to work with the pure state of the death demon.

The public hunters' aim is also to protect mankind from Nostradamus' prophecy, but by paralyzing death's actions as much as possible. They exploit Denji's flaws and desire to be normal to the full, threatening those around him. While the church, represented by Fami, titillates Denji's heroic side, his abnormalities, they want death to act.

It would also explain why everyone close to Denji is disappearing.

All the signs are pointing to Asa's imminent atrocity.

Wouldn't it be incredible to think that it's because death is in Denji's belly ?

Everything would then make sense: it's normal for Denji's development to stagnate, and for him to go through so many existential crises.

He doesn't know his own identity

What's more, it doesn't contradict my most meta theories: Fujimoto places himself in the work through Denji (cf. chapter 133), just as he responds directly to his fans (chapters 136 and 137).

We're all hating him, seeing all our favorite characters meet unfortunate deaths

It would all make sense if the manga we were holding in our hands, "Chainsaw Man", actually referred directly to death right from the start.

It would all make sense if we saw Part 1 as Denji's introduction to the ranks of hunters governed by an early death.

It would make sense for Aki's love for him to be a metaphor for accepting death, in the continuity of mourning.

It would make sense for Power to be reassured by Death when traumatized by the demon of darkness: she died twice for love, and the total disappearance of body and spirit allows us to escape the darkness.

I don't know if this theory holds, but let's agree...

It's poetic

[starfallforest]

Stop putting 'Too Sweet' by Hozier in your Sylus playlists

I am sorry—this was clickbait. I don’t actually care what you do with your life. But I need you to hear me out for just a second, okay? I am extremely not neurotypical about two things: Love and Deepspace, and Andrew John Hozier-Byrne. And I have seen more than one person in the tags talk about "Too Sweet" by Hozier being a perfect song for Sylus and MC. My only discourse about this is that Too Sweet is a song about a man who makes continuous self-sabotaging life decisions being incompatible with a partner who has her life put together. In my humble opinion, both Sylus and MC are hot messes of people in completely different ways. Anyway, it’s a good song so I don’t blame you for putting it in every playlist ever. In fact, you should. But if you're into this song, I want to show you a couple more pls pls pls 🙏​

I might just be autistic, but both Hozier's music and Love and Deepspace have something extremely important in common… and that’s BEAUTIFUL MEN YEARNING!!!1 And that’s not even to mention the haunting, raw sexuality we can project onto the stories that each of these things feeds to us. That's why I needed to make this post on the 1% chance that someone might hop on this brainrot train with me. So let me present, for just a moment of your time (if you're willing): other Hozier songs that fit Sylus so well I want to combust about it.

De Selby (Parts 1 & 2):

“At last, when all of the world is asleep You take in the blackness of air The likes of a darkness so deep That God—at the start—couldn't bear.” [azlyrics] [gaelic translation]

Imagine just casually writing THE love song that so beautifully says, “Before you were in my life, I kinda understood how God felt before he created the universe.” Excuse me? Andrew just dropped this stanza on us without so much as a cw: fuck you. And if that sickening portrait of gnawing loneliness isn’t enough, we have all the Genesis God references. Since all the LIs in the game are at some point likened to gods or rivaling gods with their power, then add the reverberating instrumentals and chillingly slow vocals in this 2-minute killer, tell me how this song does not fit Sylus. Not only that, but we also have imagery of his lover descending upon him like the night (which is invoked during Part 1 in the Gaelic verse), and I know that’s on the nose for Sylus but come on. I need you guys writing smut to have an orgasm during De Selby (at least Part 2) because it might change ur brain chemistry I'm just saying.

“When you fall on me like night—I wanna kill the lights.” [azlyrics]

This song still rules irt its playing with darkness symbolism, but it also refers to the darkness in the singer’s lover—which in Sylus’ case is MC and we all were there when she shot the guy in the heart like his freaky eye was telling her: “And your heart, love, has such darkness—I feel it in the corners of the room…” my goddddddd stop right there I can’t handle the METAPHORrrr. You think Sylus gives a flying fuck about MC’s frivolous morality bullshit? No he wants her to embrace her own darkness, sit under the blankies with him and cuddle after doing crimes and a beat poetry session. This is some fucking Hannibal Lecter beyond-dark-romance shit. I’m not even trying to write a dissertation here (and yet…)

Talk (from Wasteland, Baby!):

“I'd be the sweet feeling of release mankind now dreams of, That's found in the last witness before the wave hits, marveling at God… Imagine being loved by me.” [azlyrics]

Not only does this song utilize insane Greek mythology metaphor and Biblical comparison but the overall meaning of it is, “I want you so bad, I need to speak poetically to hide how down bad I am for you.” That sounds kinda like Old World Sylus and all his pretty nicknames to me.

NFWMB:

“If I was born as a black thorn tree, I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you, Fuel the pyre of your enemies… Ain't it warming you, the world going up in flames?” [azlyrics]

This whole song just some hard, deep and steady yearning for 4 and a half minutes. Are you kidding? The acronym in the title stands for Nothing Fucks With My Baby, which is sung in the chorus like some quietly violent war chant—soft, dark, and powerful. Anyway don’t tell me Mr. Sylus “Give me a list and then go to bed. I’ll take care of it” Loveanddeepspace wouldn’t scorch the earth for the love of his life—or do one better and stand by her side while she scorches the earth herself; here’s the protective/supportive mans anthem you ordered babes.

It Will Come Back:

“I know who I am when I'm alone—I'm something else when I see you. You don't understand, you should never know How easy you are to need.” [azlyrics]

This song has repeated imagery that warns of the dangers of taking care of a feral animal, and then compares the feral animal to the singer as a lover. Like fuck off, that’s sexy and haunted. And we know that not only does Sylus love animals more than people, but he’s pretty animalistic himself if we are to believe that maybe he’s secretly a demon or something.

Arsonist’s Lullaby:

“Don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash.” [azlyrics]

Remember in Lost Oasis when MC goes on some tangent wondering what Sylus' past was like? Well it was this song. It's about troubled youth and learning to grow in your darkness. Also how cool is that imagery of demons? Hey Sylus, what do you have to say about demons? I'll wait. In the meantime I'm tattooing this shit on my clavicle

BONUS ROUND Through Me:

“Everytime I’d burn through the world, I’d see that the world—it burns through me.”

We got a man and we got some fire allusions so there ya go.

Blood Upon the Snow:

“To all things housed in her silence, Nature offers a violence.”

Blood upon the snow—it's red and white! Red!! And white!!! Also kind of a Sylus x Zayne anthem lbr

Ok I hope you found another song that inspires you to make Sylus art or fanfic with!! And before you ask, yes I've already assigned Hozier songs to every other love interest in the game. Ok thanks for reading!!! 🏃‍♀️​💨​

[antiquepearlss]

Imagine Radioapple bonding over the Furby Organ and Otomatones. They’re constantly at each others throats, but they sure love playing the absolute worst instruments known to mankind together.

Charlie is glad they’re getting along, she just wishes her eardrums would stop bleeding.

[bones4thecats]

Hii can I request Ror Buddha meeting with his wife yasodhara again unexpectedly? Except his wife is the most chillest,nonchalant woman ever. Thank you💕

A/N: Hello there Anon!! I’m guessing you wanted the reader to be themed after his wife Yasodharā, so I did that. I hope this was what you wanted!! Enjoy~~

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🍭 He left, just up and left you and your infant son without saying a simple goodbye. And it stung, it stung you for the rest of your life. Your son asked about him whenever he found it fitting, in which you just gave him the basic info in which you knew of him at the time, which is rarely, if ever, changed. And until your death, you never saw him again.

🍭 You just enjoyed your afterlife alongside your son and your old close friends until the eldest Valkyrie sister came to speak to you of a battle that was being held against the gods.

🍭 Ragnarok.

🍭 Of course, you refused to fight them, you weren’t fond of getting violent for barely any reason besides keeping humans alive.

🍭 Instead, Brunhilde asked you to oversee the contestants to make sure certain ones didn’t get the wrong ideas. And you agreed, knowing certain ones from the talk around your palace in Valhalla.

🍭 At the time, you were watching the still healing Sasaki and Jack when you heard the announcement coming from Heimdall’s horn down on the battlegrounds. And you would never forget the words that echoed through the land.

“ I’m gonna fight for mankind. Ya dig? “

🍭 They sounded so familiar, yet so distant.

“ If the gods aren’t gonna save mankind, then I will. And if any god gets in my way… I’ll kill ‘em. “

🍭 It was your husband, the one who left you and your son in that palace centuries ago. But you couldn’t think to yourself for long before the obnoxiously loud cries of anger from the gods interrupted said thoughts.

🍭 “What is the matter with you?! Why would you, how could you betray us?!” One yelled.

🍭 Buddha sighed and held the horn up to speak, allowing Heimdall to sigh and stand beside him, giving up from jumping to grab the instrument.

“ I care for my kind, some more than others, even if I never showed it when I should have most. And I’m gonna make up for that here and now, if anyone has a problem with that, well, oh well. ”

🍭 Your heart fluttered, knowing what he had meant.

*Let’s skip for after the fight, as fighting is not my thing to write*

🍭 He was all bruised and bloody, his long hair draped behind his back as the air moved it swiftly away from his face. You stood up and began to run to the healers after he was rushed away, fearing the worst, though you didn;t show it, not wishing to worry your son and fellow humans.

🍭 Seeing his state in the healing room was gut-wrenching, but you knew you needed to do this now, or else you’d regret it like no other time. Knocking on the door, you trudged in after hearing his light ‘come in’.

🍭 It was now or never. And you picked now.

“ Hello there, my dear. ”

🍭 His eyes widened as he turned towards you. Your voice was one he would never forget in millions and millions of years.

🍭 “Y/N? Is that really you?” He asked, eyes straining to stare at your form. You walked carefully to the healing god, a smile spreading farther across your face with each step. You had looked at his face, still youthful as ever.

🍭 He was still your husband.

🍭 “Yes, it is me, love.” You replied.

🍭 He smiled, laughing as he watched you grab the side of his face and hold it towards your’s.

🍭 “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He asked.

🍭 “No, and you haven’t either, seeing the stunt you pulled down there, going against the gods and all.” You jokingly answered.

🍭 “Well, we have a lot to catch up on, now don’t we?” Buddha jokes.

“ Yes, my love, we do… ”

[whencyclopedia]

Pandora

Pandora is a figure from Greek mythology who was not only the first woman, but —as an instrument of the wrath of Zeus— was held responsible for releasing the ills of humanity into the world. Pandora was also an unrelated earth goddess in the early Greek pantheon.

Pandora - an Instrument of Punishment

The name Pandora means "gifts" and "all". According to (and perhaps even invented by) Hesiod in his Theogony and Works & Days, Zeus had Hephaistos make Pandora, the first woman, from earth and water. Zeus' intention was to use the beautiful and lovely Pandora as a means to punish Prometheus who had stolen fire from the gods and given it to mankind, who would in turn be punished. Zeus promises:

Son of Iapetus , you who know counsels beyond all others, you are pleased that you have stolen fire and beguiled my mind – a great grief for you yourself, and for men to come. To them I shall give in exchange for fire an evil in which they may all take pleasure in their spirit, embracing their own evil. (Works & Days, 54-59)

Continue reading...

[utsaahpsychologyclinic]

"This self-love is the instrument of our preservation; it resembles the provision for the perpetuity of mankind: it is necessary, it is dear to us, it gives us pleasure, and we must conceal it."

[cherri-balms]

♡﹕𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓! — PROLOGUE

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A/N﹕YAY I FINALLY FINISHED THE PROLOGUE FOR MY FIRST SERIES!

This is the first full fledged fanfic I have written in a long time, I hope anyone who finds this finds it enjoyable, I had a fun time writing this prologue chapter and I currently have around a 10-12 chapter vision for this series as it stands, but if this proves to be something you guys like I will be happy to extend the series! I do plan to create a tag list, if you would like to be added shoot me a DM and I will add you to the list! As always any replies will be made through our main acc @caravan-mad!

This prologue pretty much gives most if not all the information about the reader aside from important plot details. I wanted the reader's demon form and time period to be as ambiguous as possible and limit the use of Y/N, the reader in this story has allegories to butterflies.

Not all chapters will have warnings nor does this one, however the full fic will contain dark content and will be under the dead dove do not eat tag.

Some content will include but are not limited to: Unhealthy relationship dynamics, N.SFW, Unrequited love, Yandere themes, Dubcon, and pretty much any tag youd find listed in Hazbin Hotel tbh

𝐄 × 𝐌/𝐅 × 𝟐.𝟔𝐤 × 𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 × 𝐀𝐎𝟑

♡﹕Bored at work performing repetitive choreography and pleasing faceless demons, you find yourself reminiscing on life, death, and limbo.

♫ envy baby ~ ♫

“Lights clear? Sounds clear?” 

“We’ve been fucking over this Steven! We’ll know it’s clear when they finally stop tuning our shit-” 

“Anne chill, we still have six minutes till airing. Don’t waste all your energy on the roadie.” 

“That crowd doesn’t seem to be getting any quieter does it…” The little imp’s observations were now only being met by eyerolls and silent treatment by the two drummer girls as the completed instruments silenced in countdown. 

Lights crew above, sounds crew from behind, and effects team surround. The way every single backstage member of your cast would run and scurry around you to get their various tasks done always made you think of little mice, rats even, so worked up making sure everything was in perfect position before those curtains had a chance to stop separating you, from them.

It was cute enough to make you laugh as though you were still a highschool girl.

“Broadcasting live in 60 seconds!” Dark blue scene lighting begins to fade your entire surrounding to a pitch black, and among doing so freezes your little mice into statues all around. Only the tiniest crack in the fabric ahead illuminated the space with a sharp vertical line down the curves of the figure that stands as the adorning center piece of this particular attraction. Roaring bass brings about a quake to the stage beneath your feet, queuing time for you to give your puppies a treat.

“Awwwe~ Did we leave you waiting long?” The volume of pure passionate devotion always rang to your ears louder than any electrical speaker could achieve. 

The wave of the new future adorned in electrical inventions was something you’ve always been prepared to face; why even in the faint blur of the overworld it was all the grown ups could ever yap enough of! No, that wasn’t where that bitter taste came from.

In the full truth of things, you just never knew you’d stick around long enough to bear full witness to its infection of mankind.

Oh come on. Who are we kidding right now?

“Hi. I wanna people save, all right? ”

You’ve never been more liberated.

“You’re in m-my way!!”

Your eyes have but a second to adjust to the flood of bright neon before life hits play once again. The choreography you, and and the other 4 devils fanned out beside you have programmed into your bodies for the past months flow across the stage with ease. among the camera men you can make out the mass of waving pen lights stirred ablaze after the long anticipation, oh how you love they always use the color dearest to your heart…

“The tightrope falls, broken by others”

Once you felt the rushing high of the stage the first time around tolerance for it subsided immediately after. You’ve seen the looks on those poor saps down in the front row, each one hyper fixated on every movement you make wishing they could be you, or be up here with you.

And of course, you all flash them bright smiles, longing gazes and praise them with verses of purity more fitting for the angelic souls looming up above. Customer service is the utmost desired, as they say!

“What a lady, she’s gonna jump

towards the light and shatter humiliatingly”

Actually, can you even remember when your first performance was? How old were you even? All of this came from a cheap shot of gaining a few quick pennies back in the day. Landing yourself a handsome and rich husband with the filth you wore on your back was the first childhood dream you found dead on arrival, but what you were cursed in status you were blessed with the cuteness that made kittens hiss in envy. To say you had “the voice of a goddess” would mayhaps be a bit too presumptuous, but who were you to refute the compliment when it came your way?

Well, maybe trying to parse through finding the day your career debuted or took off was a fool's errand, but the moment it ended certainly still remains as a burned film stuck to your mind. You stopped caring about the “Oh woes me~ what did I do to deserve this~” a long time ago. Still, the punishment you received in death far exceeded what you ever did to earn in your eyes, more so than your sentencing of eternal damnation.

“High and without care I’m lonely, lonely”

Right on que, as always every time you reach exactly 32 seconds into your first song the intrusive memory flashes the same images of the past over your current reality it almost feels as if you were stuck suffering that fate again each time.

You wish there was more to say on the matter of your demise, but there’s only a brief two second window between staring down some heckling loud mouth making a scene in the crowd and a bomb beneath the stage going off before your soul is falling down under the earth’s crust as a blazing comet onto the asphalt below.

And two days before your 21st birthday too are you serious?! UN-Fucking believable!

“From their idle words, the clown becomes a prisoner”

The only thing you wanted to do was scream in the immense burning agony you were suffering until the whole world knew the kind of pain you were in, but each time you cried not even a croak could get past your scorched throat

Even after the blazes subsided and your charred cocoon was all that was left behind, the inferno decided your vocal chords were going to be its payment.

…. That was it?

This was your payout…

And after all that work…

“It’s the same love as always, no way I’d have regrets”

Surreal didn’t even begin to describe what became of the following weeks, months, you haven’t a clue. The construct of night and day seemed to mean jack in the bizzare wonderland of maddness holding you, only so much telling what shade of putrid red in the sky was darker than the same shade of fucking red from two hours ago! What a productive way to spend your newfound endless time!

Every aspect of this place made you absolutely sick, enough so to have you still praying you just were drugged and having the worst trip of your fucking life, but the horror in maddness is the consistency that lies between the lines. You’re certain that damned illuminated “WELCOME TO HELL!” sign and the stranger you befriended in the mirror was that line that made you finally cave.

“Hey, it's a amazing.”

Honestly, you couldn’t say what specifically led you into the epiphany you had, all of a sudden one day you heard a sudden snapping sound in your conscience, and like that everything made sense to you. Why your life was snuffed before you could emerge from your cocoon, why your makers deemed this your new home, and why that bomb taking your life just wasn’t enough to deem your afterlife a hell.

There was a certain liberation that came with hell that you were never going to get being the glowing little diamond you were in human society, through terrorism, cannibalism and bloodshed one thing would remain a constant throughout devil society. No one would ever give a damn about anything.

Hell became your fucking playground by the time your first extermination came around, and keeping on the move while broke as shit was a cakewalk this time around, but your first encounter with an overlord after catching your foot in the grave in the casino humbled your inflating ego. Chaos for society did not necessarily mean chaos without hierarchy, and going without a voice to call your own put you at an extreme disadvantage.

“LA-LA-LA!”

The crescendo of the opener is right around the corner, for the leading front and center of your group your vocals and choreography had primarily remained reserved for backup. The primary color of lights among the crowd made the obvious clear with who the majority of these demons were here to see, your manager was aware of this more than anyone else.

Your fans tended to be aware of this for a majority of your shows, your parts in particular tended to stand out even as mere background vocals.

“I’m ready for this this lover baby! 

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand. 

Truly, this this lover’s crazy! 

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

Sinners rejoice once the solo everyone was edging towards drops with the bass of the loudspeakers and the flares of the strobes above. The pitches your vocals were now capable of hitting and the frequency you were able to synthesize between notes wasn’t just inhuman, it was impossible for any singer whose notes carried on oxygen.

Your manager always made it a note in the writing room or when creating your setlists that overfeeding wolves with delicious treats would dull the taste over time, your solo singles often did well enough to prove this didn’t need to always be the case, but whenever it came to the business decisions you always put your full trust in him. Where you are standing right now is more than enough proof in your eyes that he knew exactly where and when to move his pawns, and in doing so he turned you into a valiant queen.

“Ah! I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love 

I love you too much, on a count of one and two 

Lie-lie loving you, such words 

and doing such things, you’re in m-my way!”

Survival was of the least of your concerns after so much time had passed, but survival was all you could find yourself able to do in your forced retirement. Where you yearn for character in sound you were able to temporarily find when turning to radio, but living vicariously only quenches so much before greed starts cozying up within.

Plausible excuses for your laziness were wearing thinner by the day, even the last sane smolder of human morality trying to keep itself sparked wanted nothing more than to argue you weren’t supposed to be living to the fullest in hell, but the mute silence in your throat was beginning to phase your memory of the voice your inner conscience called its own too, and you'd sooner go mad trying than wither away again a fucking waste.

“Here comes the love maniac who never misses,

Stack up all the whining,

Fall in a high-fi love lie-ai-a!”

Overlords were still beings that had you nauseous upon first glance, your first meeting of one of these overlords had you vowing to never end up in the claws of one again, should you find yourself in a deal you can’t unbind yourself out of. Pride stuck thick to the roof of your mouth and there was nothing more you wanted to do than stick to your morals and prove use on your own, but reality had pelted you with stones throughout your entire afterlife.

You were going to need to write out a loan before you’d find yourself with any ounce of power to call your own, not like you didn’t have options for whom to choose! Even so, you needed to keep a steady head and an even sharper nose. In your ponderance you'd come to realize there was only really one option for you to go to this whole time. Maybe that gambling kitty taught you a valuable lesson on staking bets in the long run.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely 

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

A bet on the future was what you were going to stake it all on.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely 

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

Everything about how the world operated changed so rapidly from the days walking in the sunlight to your eternal party in the redlight, the wave of the future had finally hit with the promise for a solution to everyones problems. There couldn’t have been any better timing, if technology was going to be the way of the future, who's to say you couldn’t prove what was achievable? Like that, you had your sales pitch. The hardest part on your end was complete.

“Hey, it's a amazing.

LA-LA-LA!”

“So you were a singer in life and lost your voice in death, and just what the fuck made you think I was the man to go to for this?” Those were the magic words you were waiting for, with his composure shaken it wasn’t long before he was the one asking the questions and allowing the ball to move into your court. Your fingers dance on the illuminated tablet laying on the table once again before you flip it over toward his direction.

~Have your inventions not made it to that level of advancement yet?

Hook, line, and sinker. You had a hunch a passive aggressive challenge toward the ego would be what ultimately won you over with any overlord you chose, but the speed in which he stood from his desk and held out his hand, it felt almost too easy.

“If it’s a new voice you wish to invest in, consider your stocks opened, Monarch!” Finally…

“I’m ready for this this lover baby! 

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand.”

“Now for what you have to offer me,” You don’t care. “I hope you weren’t planning on extorting me out of a generous gift and then making the big bucks with it, hm?” These overlords just love to hear themselves go on.

“Truly, this this lover’s crazy! 

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

“I suppose I could just issue a royalty for your voice, after all you wouldn’t be making a sound without my tech. Lucky for you, I’ve been having fleeting thoughts of entering the music industry. So why not invest in each other instead~”

“Ah I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love 

I love you too much, on a count of one and two”

Being owned by an overlord in the end wasn’t so bad, or maybe this is the fated “stockholm syndrome” everyone seems to be crying about these days. Either way, the biggest price you had to pay in the end was just having someone else do all the “business” part in show business.

Naive maybe, but rosey eyed you weren't. For all that he’s done you still fail to see how your end of the deal has in any way repaid what’s given, which can only lead to one thing down the line. You were going to have to give him your everything.

… Yet, how could you find yourself ungrateful to someone who fulfilled your afterlife dream and still continued to provide for you?

“Lie-lie loving you, such words and even such things, they’re in m-my way!”

The audience went absolutely ballistic at the final group pose signifying the end of your opening set, some of the really hardcore fans in the front row you swore passed out the second eye contact was made.

Yet when you turn your chin upward to the VIP section after performing your tricks so well, all you’re met with is a turned back and a schmoozed up producer instead of a tasty bone.

“Thank each and every one of you for coming to see us tonight!!” No, you only wanted him to come out to see you.

Only you.

Hey, Vox?

Can you just turn your stupid flat head this way?

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 25 Perpetuity

(Spoilers for the end of Endwalker's Myths of the Realm)

Aeryn stood in Omphalos and watched the engine work. Its motions were hypnotic as it circled around itself, drawing in hopes and prayers, and dispersing that energy back into the world to aid humanity. A device of akasha and aether, elegant and lovely.

A familiar step sounded on the stone behind her, accompanied by the equally familiar pitter-patter of smaller feet, making her smile and hold out a hand to let the tiny opo-opo leap up and scramble up her arm to give her a friendly nuzzle.

“No treats, no matter how the little fellow begs,” Deryk said lightly. “He’s coming off a bout of upset stomach.”

“Poor baby,” Aeryn cooed, leaning her head against the creature, who chirred against her neck.

The wanderer stopped next to her, also looking up at the instrument of blessing. The collaborative work of ages, she was never sure he was aware of the slight smile and melancholic light in his eyes when he gazed upon it.

“So,” he said. “We meet here yet again. And again I ask: come to a conclusion yet?”

“No,” Aeryn replied, as shaking her head would dislodge the opo-opo, who was now playing with her hair. “When you first brought us here, and revealed the Twelve and their heavens, I’d hoped to find some answer. But it seemed more of the same. Divinity is just a construct of man, formed in desperation and empowered by prayer.”

Deryk nodded. “I can say there is a world of difference between what I was, and who I am now.”

“That’s a matter of power scale, which can be overcome.”

“In part, certainly,” he agreed. “But it’s more than that.” He looked aside, his gaze falling on the gate to the Heaven of Wind. “Sometimes the memories seem more like dreams, and too much for my fragile mortal mind. The time is incomprehensible—and that’s even before taking into account the man whose soul inspired Oschon’s existence.” He turned to Aeryn again. “Am I still not real, merely a construct?”

“Of course you’re real. And so was Oschon. Just born of humanity, like anyone else.”

“Hydaelyn created the Twelve,” he reminded her.

“From the energies of Her comrades. To perform roles and duties for which mankind worshiped them for, and in so doing, altered irrevocably.” She sighed. “And my feelings on Hydaelyn—on Venat—are likewise still complicated.”

“I understand that,” Deryk agreed. “I did not feel so before, but now? It’s a strange thing indeed. I’m not the man who aided in Hydaelyn’s creation; he is long dead, his aether given to form Hers, a fragment of his remnant soul used to create that which men called Oschon. Me, with an omnipresent view and ability to stride across this world we so loved as either the concept of wind, or in this form.” He gestured to his body. “I sometimes wonder if we took on avatars because some part of us yet remembered and yearned to be mortal again.”

“I’m certain I met Nymeia and Althyk’s original selves in Elpis,” Aeryn said, scratching under the opo-opo’s chin. “I helped with creations they were evaluating, and described the rite of flowers for the departed when some creatures were lost in an accident with others. There was familiarity in their divine personas, but they didn’t remember. Not really.”

“Yet they never lost sight of who they were to one another,” Deryk said, that sad smile on his face again. “They never struggled with it, unlike Menphina and myself.”

Aeryn raised a questioning brow.

“Of course I loved her—who didn’t?” he laughed. “In our first life, she was a brilliant young woman, and it was no wonder her divine self became who she was, and set to the tasks Hydaelyn chose. And we cared for one another, as we Twelve were family in our way. But was any romance our own, or determined by the prayers of man?” he shrugged. “Divinity is malleable.”

“That’s one of the things I struggle with,” Aeryn said. “Should it be, or shouldn’t gods be set, in order to form and order the world, and guide their creations and humanity? Shouldn’t they be...something beyond man? Not just in power, but in origin as well?”

“The more we discuss this, what it feels like you most resent is the loss of unknowing,” Deryk replied. “That you feel faith must include the question of origin.”

Aeryn mulled that over for a moment. “That would be part of taking it on faith, wouldn’t it? Of deciding to give trust based on a hope there’s something more to guide the way.” She looked up at the instrument of blessing again. “But I know so much of the origins of our world, of the divinities, and how and why they came to be. I know what can be manifested with enough aether, but warped by those requests.” The opo-opo chirred as her shoulders slumped.

“And you know too well what has been lost—in most cases, by your own hand.”

She winced at that. “On request.”

“Who else could be trusted? Not just in power, but on...faith.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“It goes both ways, you know,” he said mildly. “Even if I know your origins—born of man, with dragon’s blood running in your veins, raised outside this land where we held the most sway, but rising in it to become the one who could learn the truth, see it clearly, and grant us our greatest desire.” He gestured to the engine swirling above them. “And now we have laid down our burdens, while ensuring our duty is secured forevermore. Because we believed in you—as She did.”

Aeryn frowned. “That’s not the same as faith in divinity.”

“Isn’t it?”