#barbaric or uncivilized | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silvanils · 2 years

Text

A Gentle Approach

This fic can also be found on Ao3 here!

It’s been nice enough, catching up with Teagan. But Alistair knows his almost-uncle has been tiptoeing around whatever he wants to discuss all afternoon. So when Teagan wanders over to the window that overlooks the gardens and sighs deeply, Alistair decides to skip the gentle approach and be more direct.

“What’s really troubling you, Teagan? Go on, tell me. I can take it.”

“I’m concerned about the boy,” the Arl says, glancing at Alistair over his shoulder. And at that angle, in this lighting, Arl Teagan looks older than he is. More tired. “Kieran,” he adds, his voice quieter. Gentler. “Your son.”

It’s the first time Teagan’s called him that — it’s the first time anyone outside of their closest circle of friends has called him that — and Alistair feels his heart swell with pride and protectiveness alike. “What concerns you, exactly?”

Teagan reaches up to stroke his beard, frowning thoughtfully. The longer he remains quiet, the more Alistair’s worry grows. “I don’t know what you actually plan to do with him, but rumors are sprouting all over the place. Are any of them true? Was his mother truly the witch Celene took as her arcane advisor? Is he — ?”

“Yes,” Alistair cuts in. “His mother is Morrigan, and whatever else she may be… she is also one of Ferelden's heroes. People would do well to remember that.”

Teagan flushes in embarrassment. “Of course.”

The silence between them feels awkward, now, and Alistair feels a need to banish it, somehow. “As for what my plans are, Teagan, the truth is… I never had any.”

He remembers a promise that was made in the dark of night on the eve of battle: that the child would not turn up some year. “Of that, you have my word.” But on that night, Alistair had not known how often his thoughts would stray to the child anyway, and when Morrigan wrote him...

‘I do not ask this of you lightly, Alistair, and I do not wish for you to feel obligated to agree, but I fear my son is no longer safe here, with me. There are few people in this world I trust to care for him, as I am sure you understand. So if there is room in your court for a ward… he may yet flourish there, with you.’

How could he say no?

This has been difficult for all of them, but was no better way.

“I was never meant to have a say in his upbringing,” Alistair says, taking a seat across from Teagan, by the window. “Much of that is already done. His life is his own, and I refuse to force anything on him.”

Teagan laughs a little, and when he meets Alistair’s gaze his eyes are soft. “You do better than most fathers, then.” He goes quiet for a while, then speaks up again. “Every time I think I’m done dealing with troublesome youths, I find myself facing new challenges. Kieran… got angry with me this morning, but he had good reason to.”

“What happened?” Alistair asks, sighing.

“I was talking with Mother Perpetua,” Teagan says, looking a bit sheepish. “Apparently some Chasind have been seen close to the city and she claimed their presence was causing alarm. I only wished to ease her worries, but… my wording was clumsy, I fear, and…” he sighs, running a hand through his greying hair. “I hurt him, but I didn’t know better. I want him to know that.”

Alistair frowns. “Alright,” he says. “I’ll see what I can do.”

After searching through the castle’s many quiet nooks, Alistair finally finds Kieran sitting in the gardens by himself, reading. The boy doesn’t glance up as he approaches, but he does sigh quietly when Alistair takes a seat beside him. “If this is about what happened with Arl Teagan… I didn’t mean to snap at him the way I did. I’m just… tired.”

“I know,” Alistair says, frowning. “Honestly? I don’t blame you. It’s frustrating when other people have ideas about who you should be, but you know you won’t fit their expectations.”

Kieran does look up then, his hazel eyes meeting Alistair’s own. “Yes, I suppose you would understand the feeling,” he sighs, his fingers still idly tracing a line of words on the page. “They still whisper a lot of things about you, too — but just you wait! Soon, they’ll be thanking their Maker you’re not a heathen hedge mage from Orlais!”

Alistair can’t help but chuckle at the boy’s wry humor. “They don’t know what they’re missing out on,” he says. “Though I admit… I am a bit curious, now. In all our travels together, your mother actually never told me much about herself, the things she believes in.”

“We both consider ourselves Chasind,” Kieran says, quietly. “Though I’m not sure what they would think of me. Mother did not grow up among their tribes, who fear the witches as much as they revere them, and… I did not grow up in the Wilds at all. I hear the Blight damaged them badly, though, so many of the tribes were displaced.”

He closes the book and holds it closer to his chest, and when his eyes meet Alistair’s again they are sharp. “That’s probably the reason they have come here, now. Seeking help, though they don’t know how to ask for it. So often, they are simply turned away.”

“Perhaps you can help me bridge the gap, then,” Alistair offers. “I’d welcome your advice. It may help me deal with them without making a fool of myself.”

That finally earns him a smile from Kieran. “Alright,” he says. “I’ll do what I can.”

#artober #kieran #alistair #teagan guerrin #kieran and alistair #kieran and teagan #alistair and teagan #;knight writes #;corner of the sky #[ this was long enough without the scene where Kieran snaps at Teagan but ]#[ I figure Teagan wrongly implied that the Chasind are uncivil or barbaric and Kieran was not having it ]#[ 'ah yes I see WHAT ABOUT ME THEN TEAGAN' ]#[ I adore Teagan but he definitely seems to have taken a few steps BACK as Arl ]

5 notes · View notes

ough-tism · 3 months

Text

literally don’t give a shit if someone makes fun of my interests or hobbies, but if someone says something even slightly negative about the foods I like then they need to be boiled in acid

#‘terraria is bad because you need the wiki open at all times’ 🆗 who care?#‘eating a whole fish with bones is barbaric and uncivilized’ You gotta die man

0 notes

dollveis · 9 months

Text

wanting to have the most nasty, brutal, violent, ruthless, vile, horrid, heinous, barbaric, gruesome, diabolical, beastly, savage, vicious, inhumane, monstrous, unethical, ferocious, egregious, fiendish, hellish, uncivilized sex with her.

#=͟͟͞⚝ 𝐯𝐢 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬 !#need her bad #ellie williams tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #the last of us #tlou2

406 notes · View notes

genericpuff · 3 months

Note

Hello, brazilian anon here! So I have been following criticisms of LO for a while now, and Psyche and Eros caught my attention in special, because their relationship is legit a racist trope commonly applied to indigenous people: Woman of color is put in a arranged marriage or pressured into marrying a guy from her village/tribe but "falls in love" with a white dude who "saves" her from her abusive and "uncivilized" family. Think of Disney's Pocahontas. This trope is commonly used to dehumanize non-european/anglo-saxon cultures and portray them as barbaric, and is rooted in colonialism and its direct heir, imperialism, as a means for colonizers to justify and sugarcoat raping and forcing women of color to marry them. So not a good look for Rachel.

OH YEAH IT IS

(you just opened Pandora's Box by mentioning Pocahontas around me LMAO)

It's even more egregious when you consider how Rachel changed the original myth from Psyche undergoing trials on her own to her ... being turned into a nymph servant for Aphrodite. Like huh. Is that really your final draft, Rachel? Have you thought this through?

I made a very spicy post about this like a year and a half ago and honestly I think it's still worth talking about because it's incredibly telling that Psyche had her entire story uprooted and replaced with a version where she's transformed into a non-POC character to disguise herself as a servant to a woman who's already racist towards nymphs. It's got that issue of "take the black character and transform them into an animal/other being that isn't black so that we don't have to have a black character onscreen for more than 10 minutes."

And yeah, you can tell how much Rachel is absentmindedly taking from Disney without challenging what those stories were portraying or asking deeper questions to get to the heart of their messaging. Pocahontas is rightfully panned for being a very white-washed version of a story that was written in the blood shed by Native Americans at the hands of colonizers. "Pocahontas" herself, even, was not some independent native woman who fell in love with the "one good white guy" on the boat, she was a teenage girl, whose life was spared but made worse when she was forced to travel overseas to be used as a prop to justify their continued actions in murdering and colonizing the "savages" overseas; she was then forced into marriage and had to carry the children of her captors, all while being treated as an exotic spectacle by the people around her who would undoubtedly kill her at the first sign of disobedience.

Her name was Matoaka. Her life and story is not something that should be romanticized. It's a tragedy and much of what instigated it is still alive and well today. She only lived to be 21.

I don't know if Rachel intentionally referenced or ripped off Pocahontas in Lore Olympus the same way she clearly has with Hercules and Beauty and the Beast. But it's incredibly telling in how she treats the racial divide between nymphs and gods and how she's twisted the Eros x Psyche myth into what it is that even if she did watch Pocahontas, she probably never realized how problematic it is at its core in the way that it's told.

In the original myth, Psyche is a woman who's meant to represent the fickleness of vanity - the loneliness it can make one feel to be admired and not truly loved, and the destruction that can be brought about in jealousy - and her pursuit in finding genuine love in Eros, a journey she travels alone, thematically with the rest of the story.

In Lore Olympus, she's an illiterate woman of color whose only purpose is to be Eros' wife, robbed of all agency so that she can be a trophy for him to earn, a test for him to pass. It's boring and really icky when you really peel back the layers of it with Psyche's character design in mind. Even when she finally does get more agency in her task to bring down Apollo - or at the very least, keep an eye on him - it's still at the behest of Zeus who gives her immortality not as a reward for overcoming the trials she set out to pass, but so she can be his errand boy. So once again she's not capable of doing anything motivated by her own best interests (especially when she already knows how dangerous Apollo is, why is she the one who has to follow this guy around?)

So yeah, no, not a good look at all LMAO

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

149 notes · View notes

northern-passage · 5 months

Text

No Pride with Genocide!

You have probably seen the grotesque images of jubilant Israeli soldiers holding the pride flag on top of our scorched Gazan lands infiltrating social media feeds last week. The Israel State cynically publishes on its Twitter account, “The first ever pride flag raised in Gaza,” as it proceeds with its genocidal crusade and its concomitant Zionist propaganda campaign. We view these images with immense feelings of frustration and uttermost disgust, and we see through their despicable tactics of weaponizing homophobia and queer violence for colonial means. The following are notes from Queers in Palestine, elaborating on what such imagery tries to accomplish and what underpins their production:

1. Zionist Colonization is Anti-Civilization

Colonial and Imperial powers have long used their fabricated lies of “civilization,” “rights,” and “democracy” to justify their plunder, military rule, and capitalist accumulation. We learn this from global histories of European colonization across Abya Yala, Asia, Africa, Turtle Island, Aotearoa, and Australia. The Zionist colonization of Palestine is no different. Oftentimes, the pretext of all of these bloodied invasions is that the “civilized” world is invading racialized communities to bring culture, education, and liberalism and instill it in societies it deems barbaric, immoral, and uncivilized. The images of the LGBT flag supposedly claim to bring rights and liberties to Gaza, but unironically, the soldier stands on top of the debris of hopes, dreams, and human remains of Palestinians he himself and the army he serves bombed moments before. The flag merely stands to reaffirm the simulacrum of colonization, death, white supremacy, and destruction.

2. Israel Erases Palestinian Queerness

The images of the Israel Pride Flag and the other with the text, “In the name of love” send a clear message: Israel will not allow queer liberation unless it’s through its settler-colonial genocidal project. To that, we say No! We queer Palestinians have a vibrant, diverse liberation movement that is part of the Palestinian anti-colonial movement. For decades, we have been tirelessly working on carving up and maintaining a space for Palestinian queer life amongst our communities and not despite them. We are everywhere: in schools, streets, prisons, hospitals, and at the forefront of every confrontation in every corner of Palestine, from the river to the sea. What we are working towards is a Palestine liberated from colonialism, patriarchy, and capitalist exploitation.

3. Queer Opacity in Times of Hypervisibility

In a time when Palestinians are being prosecuted without trial, student movements shut-down and students in universities suspended and detained, and solidarity with Palestine and Palestinians at large are attacked and criminalized, visibility has proven itself to be a frontline of resistance against the erasure of Palestinians worldwide. In Palestine, Israel’s surveillance apparatuses hunt any expression for Palestine’s right to exist as grounds to attack, incarcerate, and murder Palestinian life. This over-fixation on the supposed lack of Palestinian queer visibility steers the attention from Israel’s campaign against all Palestinians – workers, activists, students, feminists, queers, and otherwise. Israel and its allies dangerously decontextualize the violence queers suffer from its historical colonial roots, and dissociate it from the impacts of current settler-colonial violence. This is an attempt to portray Palestinian society as unsafe for queers to legitimize the annihilation of our people, and in turn our annihilation as queers. Under Israel’s surveillance & police state, visibility, opacity and invisibility are survival and resistance tactics we use interchangeably, and aren’t always a matter of choice. None of us is safe under settler-colonization.

4. These Images Endanger Queer People Worldwide

The Pride Flag has long been hijacked and homonationalised. It represents a narrow and limited understanding of gender and sexuality and excludes the myriad of sexualities in the colonized world. This homonationalism renders colonized sexual and gender attitudes illegible to the liberal gaze and forces us to speak a language that compromises our experiences. Under nationalist and colonial regimes, our bodies and sexualities will always be regulated. What the pride flag has come now to represent is a commercial, imperialist, and white supremacist sexual ideologies, and this, in turn, puts us queer people in danger. This homonationalist project hinders our fight against anti-queer violence within our communities because our identities and sexualities are constantly being hijacked by the empires and colonies that brought destruction upon us. We need to reject such associations that only strengthen queerphobia in colonized societies, especially during this time in Arab and Muslim communities, when the soldiers and armies that are destroying our homes and killing our parents, siblings, friends, and children are doing so in the name of LGBT rights.

5. Colonialism & Empire are Anti-Queerness

In the past, colonial projects sought to eliminate any sex-gender organization systems that fell outside of the European binary patriarchal model of man-woman. We learn this from the British criminalization of the Hijra in South Asia, or British and French social organizing efforts to enforce a binary sex-gender system in Yoruba Land, or Portuguese and Spanish efforts to eliminate “two-spirit” indigenous North Americans – deeming all uncivilized in need of external civilization. This was also the case in Palestine under British-Zionist military occupation, as same-sex relations and other diverse gender practices became criminalized and demonized. All the current laws in Gaza that criminalize queerness are, in fact, British and are upheld by Zionism. However, it becomes evermore absurd that rhetorics of bringing queer liberation to Palestine have been now hijacked by Zionists and, for the most brutal reasons, in service of annihilation of Palestinian life and mass destruction. We, Palestinian queers, position our movement for liberation alongside anti-colonial and anti-racist movements globally, and we stand firmly in objection to any attempt to hijack our movements, or exploit our bodies.

In the name of revolutionary love, a love which fuels our struggle for liberation and yearning for freedom, rooted in our love for our communities and our land; we tell you, there is no pride with genocide, and there is no pride in settler-colonialism.

Our pride can only come through true liberation for all, for us and for all the peoples fighting worldwide.

A Liberatory Demand from Queers in Palestine | Pinkwashing - Decolonize Palestine

#this literally took like 6 tries to post lol #sorry i tried to indent it so it was more obvious i was quoting this but it literally wont let me post it that way #palestine #current events

170 notes · View notes

khalidistan · 10 months

Text

It seems like every year I end up writing an iteration of the same idea. But here I am! Writing it again! If you haven’t seen the tweet that sparked this conversation, I’ve screenshotted the tweet and artwork below. It’ll help inform this discussion. Full piece under the cut.

It would help to check out my essay from 2021 about the emasculation of Abdul Ali from Squid Game, since both pieces share similar references.

Maryam Khalid writes “Orientalist notions of the masculinity of the ‘Eastern’ male as uncivilized also inherently ascribe primitiveness, ineptness and a certain amount of weakness to the barbarized ‘other.’” Those doomed to the mythical Orient are automatically placed lower in masculinity than their white and colonial counterparts.

The reason for this emasculation is to defang them, to ensure they can never attain the same power conferred by white masculinity and to maintain racial purity: “This feminizing divests the male body of its virility and thus compromises its power not only to penetrate and reproduce its own nation (our women), but to contaminate the other's nation (their women) as well” (Puar, 99).

To be South Asian is to be pathologically queer, irrespective of the one’s true sexual orientation. “The Orient becomes a living tableau of queerness” by virtue of being from the Orient (Said, 103). There is already a robust amount of artwork depicting Pavitr with tons of gold jewelry and piercings, which to the West are typically feminine accessories. This essentially reduces Pavitr to a stereotype of South Asian culture.

Fanworks use the bejeweled, indulgent, exotic, and sultry attitude as a short-hand for their perception of South Asia. They are “caricatures stripped from movies like Disney’s Aladdin, the Arcana or people’s sexual fantasies about our men,” as allahrakhi writes in her essay on fandom's reception of Claude von Riegan from Fire Emblem: Three Houses, a character similarly mischaracterized by virtue of his brown identity.

Puar describes that the (implied white) nation defines “upright, domesticatable queernesses that mimic and recenter liberal subjecthood, and out-of-control, untetherable queernesses” (47). Nonwhite queerness is “untetherable,” leaving white queerness as “domesticatable.” This inability to engage brown queerness forces brown queer people to assimilate into white queerness.

In fandom’s and society’s mind, there is no such thing as a queer South Asian without them discarding their brown identity and adopting white queer practices, behaviors, and aesthetics. Queer South Asians are “either liberated (and the United States and Europe are often the scene of this liberation) or can only have an irrational, pathological sexuality of queerness” (Puar, 13).

Which brings us to the recent depictions of Pavitr in fanworks, stripping him of his masculinities to render him as a vapid, neutered, and yes, whitewashed queer boy, completely unrecognizable from the source material.

Interestingly, this reduced masculinity co-exists, paradoxically, with the idea that men from the Orient are simultaneously aggressive, belligerent, and violent. Elgin Brunner writes: “Such a framing—the association of the enemy with barbarism, as opposed to the self, which is civilized—includes two, often simultaneous, moves, that is: the ‘hypermasculinization’ of the enemy on the one hand, and his ‘effeminization’ on the other… The very same opponent is, by virtue of being categorized as a cowardly barbarian, rendered effeminate.”

The flip side of the effeminate brown man is the hypermasculine brown man, which can be seen through Miguel, one of Across the Spider-Verse’s antagonists. Both instances of brown masculinity confiscate personhood from characters who would have otherwise offered rich, nuanced, interesting perspectives to the story and to the audience.

It would be myopic of me to not mention the implicit genderings of other nonwhite ethnicities in this discussion. Brown men hold a unique positionality to other nonwhite men in a racial triangulation I’d like to examine further in another essay for the future. Brown men can either be gendered the way that East Asians are (feminine, asexual, neutered, timid, obedient) or the way that Black people are (hypersexual, predatory, dangerous, aggressive). Both misgenderings are in opposition to the “ideal” male gender, which is of course, the white man. This fallacy is why we see Hobie depicted as cruel, mean, and irritated in the exact same artwork from earlier.

Many people in this artist’s quoted replies have accused the artist of being white. I have seen some criticisms of the backlash, that people shouldn’t assume the artist’s ethnicity. I think both opinions miss the point: anyone can be orientalist. Membership within a nonwhite ethnic identity does not absolve the individual of perpetuating orientalist or racist depictions of characters of color.

As Edward Saïd said, “Everyone who writes about the Orient must locate himself vis-a-vis the Orient” (Orientalism, 20). That is to say, if you write and depict the Orient and people from the Orient, you have to consider your positionality in relation to the Orient. Naturally, this would mean that white people should always be cognizant of their depictions of Orientals. But East Asians can also orientalize, whether it is other ethnic groups like South Asians; or self-orientalization. Similar can be said for South Asians who self-orientalize.

Khalid writes “Gendered identities do not exist independently of other factors, and must be viewed as intertwined with, for example, race or ethnicity if we are to understand the hierarchical organization of identities.” There is no examination of gender without an accompanying racial context. And Pavitr’s emasculation in fandom certainly requires a critical eye for both race and gender, lest we repeat the same dehumanizing characterizations of him in further fanworks.

Works Consulted:

Brunner, E. M. (2008). Consoling display of strength or emotional overstrain? the gendered framing of the early “War on terrorism” in transatlantic comparison. Global Society, 22(2), 217–251. https://doi.org/10.1080/13600820801887223

Khalid, M. (2011). Gender, orientalism and representations of the ‘other’ in the War on Terror. Global Change, Peace & Security, 23(1), 15–29. https://doi.org/10.1080/14781158.2011.540092

Puar J. K. (2007). Terrorist Assemblages: homonationalism in queer times. Duke University Press.

Said, E. W. (1994). Orientalism. 25th anniversary edition. With a new preface by the author. New York, Vintage Books.

#pravitr prabhakar #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #meta analysis #critical race theory #gender studies #queer studies #khalid text

248 notes · View notes

catsvrsdogscatswin · 11 months

Text

Thanks to my post about the 28th, it’s come to my attention that a significant portion of humanity don’t read history books for fun, so here’s a few broad strokes of what, exactly, is going on with the cultural connotations of race within Dracula, as understood by an American:

European racism of the day was predominantly based on cultural ethnicity rather than skin color, and one of the main sliding scales (other than how old and prestigious the ancestry was) was how far west you were on the Eurasian continent. The further east you went, the less “civilized” things became, until you hit Asia and Oceania and just became inundated with absolutely rancid racist caricatures. Stuff from the “Orient” was there for exotic/shiny toys and moral lessons about how much better the West was, and not much else, so you can imagine what depictions of actual Asian people thus became.

(We’re faced with this east vs. west scale in Jonathan’s very first entry: Budapest straddles the line between the “civilized” western part of Europe and the “uncivilized,” opulent, and exotic world of eastern Europe. Jon is going from the known and familiar city into the mysterious, unfamiliar wilderness, an extremely common Gothic horror archetype.)

Both the fear of the unknown and the exoticizing/othering of Eastern Europe play heavily into Dracula’s themes, with the sexually predatory Count Dracula coming to England to do all sorts of unspeakable sordid things to innocent English women. (Not exactly Stoker’s finest hour, but this was a typical attitude of the day.)

Following that, it was also thought at the time that one’s moral character was essentially genetic. Certain people of certain races were predisposed to be “better” or “worse,” and your own moral character was also influenced by your parents’ status in society and behavior. A prostitute mother or a criminal father meant you would inherit their dubious moral quality, which is partially where “this person has bad blood” comes from. Bad blood is literally the negative morality passed onto you from your parents: you’ve inherited the bad qualities carried in their blood.

Linking back to the east-west thing, the further east you go -you’ve guessed it- the worse this supposed ancestral bad blood gets. People of “lesser” races included the Romani, Jews, Slovaks (and sometimes the Russians), and they were just supposed to be, like, naturally inclined to be bad. They were Programmed For Crime from the moment they were born, so you didn’t need to explain why such a character was evil when they showed up in your novel: I mean, they’re [INSERT RACE], aren’t they? It’s in the blood. No explanation needed. Everybody knows that.

The assumption of the time was that such people were literally born bad, which of course naturally justified how they were treated. When they showed up on a page, you were supposed to distrust them on sight.

Occasionally, low-class people were also treated as a race all their own, like poverty was some kind of moral failing. After all, the older, more prestigious, and wealthier your family was, the better their inherent moral quality, so poor people are obviously uncouth and have bad blood, right?

(It’s an extremely stupid circular way of thinking, but that’s bigotry for ya.)

Dracula is a nobleman with old lineage, but he’s also steeped in the flavor of Eastern Europe: “barbaric” and proud, yet initially treating Jonathan with extreme courtesy; threateningly exotic and yet also familiar with English customs. As we go through the book, you’ll see that he almost exclusively hires Romani, Jewish, or extremely poor for his henchmen: he’s a force of evil that uses other “evil” tools, who bend easier to his will than “normal” people of “proper” races.

(By all means, please pause here a moment to scrub yourself of the nauseating feeling that such a bullshit attitude evokes.)

In any case, Dracula himself is a pretty good example of all these racial ideas converging, which was also why he made such an effective monster to the Victorians: there’s just enough that’s familiar and proper in him that they couldn’t quite properly Other him, which links back to the transformative horror of vampirism turning something formerly good into something very very bad, which with their worldview of “you are born with this moral code because of racial predisposition and lineage” is just shocking. You mean this Eastern European man can infect our formerly good and pure citizens and make them act his way, just by an act of force? Uh-oh.

Anyways TLDR Dracula is a book steeped in the cultural traditions and expectations of the day which means that it’s lovely horror but also an absolute crock of shit at times due to racism (and several other -isms, which I will not cover here because I am trying not to make this an essay).

#Dracula Daily #cw: racism

276 notes · View notes

genshingorlsrevengeance · 10 months

Text

(Genshin Impact) Eula, Jean, and Sara's peaceful S/O fighting

Eula is shocked by how barbaric S/O fought.

Granted, they weren't a fighter and this was a last ditch effort since they hated conflict, but still!

Eula put aside her disgust and quickly dispatched of her foes before quickly arriving to the aid of S/O.

If they were fighting something more dangerous, they could easily take them out.

Once the fight is over, Eula makes sure to check for injuries before sighing.

(Eula) "I need to teach you how to defend yourself. Using a rock like...that will get you hurt faster than the enemy."

Although her S/O didn't like the idea, if it was to make sure they could survive and put Eula's mind at ease, they obliged.

Besides that, the whole rock business is so uncivilized.

Jean doesn't really pay it any mind, despite how brutal it looked, S/O smashing a treasure hoarder with a rock.

It was to be expected, they weren't a knight or anything, just a civilian.

Jean leaps next to S/O before using her vision to blow them away, sighing in relief once the fight was over.

(Jean) "You're not hurt are you?...Good, I apologize for making you fight like that..."

Jean definitely has a knight attend to them in order to teach them basic defense with a sword. There wouldn't always be something like a rock to save them.

Jean herself is adverse to violence, but in her mind violence is never the answer.

It was the question.

Sometimes it was a yes, but like her S/O, is always hoping it'd be a no.

Sara fired her arrows in rapid succession, taking out each slime with a fluid motion.

She couldn't help but notice how S/O was trying to crush one, hitting it with a slime over and over.

Sara couldn't help but stare in confusion. Granted they didn't like fighting and they had zero training, but this was just...

Quickly snapping back to attention, she shot the slime S/O was fighting with a single arrow and walking to them.

(Sara) "Remind me to take you to one of our training days..."

Sara doesn't want them fighting as much as S/O, but there had to be a better method of self defense than doing something the moronic oni would.

(Sara) "Ugh, if he were here he'd just say 'hit them really hard again'...What? Oh don't worry S/O, it's nothing. Just talking to myself..."

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #eula x reader #jean gunnhildr x reader #kujou sara x reader #eula lawrence #jean gunnhildr #kujou sara

261 notes · View notes

cryptidwithaninternetconnection · 3 months

Text

@sagehyperfixates @cats-and-confusion @the-excellent-papyru @bingbongbox @vaporeon2010317 @sirlordevil @deadless-corpse @boredgoon @evilscientist3 @asrielmerrymoon @evilscientist8 @doctor-shay-d-guy @scp-foundation-official @dr-catherine-sherman-owens @the-belle-siblings

An official TumblrTowne Lore post

TumblrTowne was first a settlement in a far corner of the “Inerweb” continent, nearby other settlements like Yutubia, Faciallbok, and Twitlongia (“Gia” being pronounced “Jee-uh”) These four settlements lived in., relative peace, their respective populations generally keeping to themselves, Yutubia sometimes public ally spying on other settlements, TumblrTowne being their favorite.

TumblrTowne over many centuries became stereotyped as “Barbaric, cruel, and uncivilized” by the other settlements, but Twitlongia being the most vocal about this, eventually forcing the other settlements (Now called “Medians”) to exile TumblrTowne, forcing the median to relocate to a farther corner of Inerweb.

Now, the other medians weren’t paradises, Twitlongia was a dystopian hellscape run by shapeshifters that claimed to have their people’s best interests at heart, but only allowed the community to grow and fester, eventually becoming a hot stew of toxicity, being known to the other three nations as the True Hellscape. Yutubia is rampant with copycats and corrupt beings that run wild, but it’s also one of the greatest medians for an individual to live in in terms of rent and jobs, one of the biggest jobs there being a public entertainer, each one having their own apartment to throw shows in, some spying on TumblrTowne and reading stories that originated there.

Faciallbok, unfortunately is currently having a health crisis due to an aging population and a widely brainwashed population into worshiping their local deity, the Guntslings (Minion in Swedish) making many satirical images with the Guntslings at the forefront. On top of the local culture of Faciallbok being quite out of touch and elderly, many of their children escaping to other medians.

Now, back to Tumblrtownes local culture. The majority of TumblrTownes population are very accepting, queer, young/youth friendly, free-spirited, and generally kind. But unfortunately, some do fit in the stereotypes of old, these citizens are publicly ignored if they make a ruckus, facing a magic spell tumblrinas use called “Blocking” it works by summoning a symbol out of an individuals anger or spite towards another, and forcing that person to be invisible, unhearable, and intangible to the caster. However there is a conversation on wether or not this spell should be used for simple things as disagreements, most vote in favor of Blocking being a legal spell to preform.

Tumblrtownes people are also less watched over than the other Medians, Yutubia being the most moderated. Tumblerinas having the least amount of moderation both makes way for discussions of mental health, politics, etc, it also gives a platform to the more.. unsightly citizens, who use their amount of magic to spout hateful things, often becoming local ghosts due to blocking spells making them no more than ghosts to most.

TumblrTowne, due to being exiled, is sealed off, a magic spell turning whoever enters into a “Base” this person being essentially a default being that if they visit a shop, can customize their appearance to how they see fit, an apartment also being assigned to a Base automatically.

Another thing to add on, is that if an individual does not change from a base, they are likely a clone, who are created to be slaves that advertise and try to pass off as real people, often failing and being blocked and notified to the local guardians.

Now, the apartments are intresting, because they are so common to have, home invasion isn’t exactly a new thing, nor is it a real problem culturally. But all apartment contain a room called a “Personal blog” where one would keep extremely personal things, the rest of the apartment being free to see, it being intensely discouraged to invade one’s Personal Blog, if you get caught, you get publicly shamed and turned back into a base, banned form changing yourself at all. A huge thing in TumblrTowne being having a huge cork board outside the apartment to tack on sticky notes onto, most using it to send messages, some using it to talk about random things, and some going on multi-note rants about something.

Many youth or young adults tend to move to TumblrTowne, wether that be for a fresh start, an accepting place, a good job, etc etc, the nearest median being Yutubia and Twitlongia, escapees being welcomed by tumblerinas most times, but some are shunned if they are known in Twitlongia as bad people, there will be a surge of stick notes encouraging using the blocking spell on people searching to hide in TumblrTowne while Twitlongia forgets that they existed,

Tumblrinas never forget what you did, someone will always be at your tail about whatever you did.

One last thing, despite TumblrTownes history being very open and inviting, it used to not be that way. TumblrTowne and it’s citizens had an old vendetta against the fae, origins unknown, there was a lot of propaganda framing fae as “Tricksters that will enslave you if you give them your name!” Despite this not being the case, the fae back in these times using glamours and spells to keep their heratige concealed. Eventually this would bubble over into wide-spread protests for fae rights, to stop fae humiliation, etc, and to outlaw silver and bells in areas with high fae population. These laws being put into affect after about 100 years of protesting and boycotting leading to the HigherUps caving and putting pro-fae laws into place, outlawing explicit fae abuse and putting them on the same playing field as other species, but some areas still refuse to use the new laws and are notorious for being stuck in the old times pre-exile.

Aaaaaaand that’s it! Let me know if I should add anything to the original post, there was gonna be a whole segment about alts and RP blogs, but i decided to scrap it,because it took away from the “Realness” of TumblrTowne BEING where they all take place, it would be silly to force them all under the “Story” umbrella if they’re all real here

31 notes · View notes

sagittarianpocky · 8 months

Text

Heaven | Zamasu X Fem!Human!Reader.

First time posting my work on here. Um, hello. On a Zamasu binge right now.

Porn with very slight plot. And some fluff, but it's Zamasu, so, you know. I just like writing things that are self indulgent, and he deserves more love. Also not spell checked. We die like men, and spell checking with ADHD is practically impossible anyway. And it’s written in first person pov because I suck at second person. Otherwise. Enjoy, I guess.

Rating: NSFW. 18+. Obviously.

Word count: 3,095

Summary: Zamasu gets... a little jealous that another mortal dared to flirt with his special human.

“I’ve never seen you so nervous.”

To have a Supreme Kai staring you down - it’s a harrowing experience. Especially because it was Zamasu. Gray, hungry, narrowed eyes were staring directly through my own, going all the way down into the depths of my soul. He was standing mere inches from me. We’d been having a discussion, which was absolutely normal, but I brought up the fact that some random dude on the street had asked for my phone number in passing. That’s when he first got that look in his eye, his voice got lower, and I could see that something was brewing within the darkest corners of his mind.

“Zamasu.” My voice came out quiet and weak, almost like a stutter. “What’s gotten into you?”

His fingertip just barely touched my chin, tilting my head up toward his own. I had to look at him, no matter how flushed my face was getting. He wasn’t much taller than me, but it was just enough for him to be intimidating. The height difference made me feel small and helpless, but in the depths of my own mind, I didn’t hate the feeling. And I think he knew that. “The idea that any of these barbaric, uncivilized mortals could believe, even for one moment, that they have the right to someone as divine as you is absolutely revolting.”

I backed up a little. Just one step, but he followed suit. I responded, “That’s… why I told him no.”

“As you should.” A smirk was pulling at the corner of his lips. “Do the same with everyone who dares to ask for even a sliver of your affection.”

I blinked a few times, and I felt his thumb brush my jaw. “I… don’t understand. What is this about? You know how I feel about people, so-“

“What I am saying… is that there is but one being who is worthy of you.”

I swallowed roughly. “… Who?”

“Me.”

The response came out so commanding, as if it were the absolute truth. My breath caught in my throat. His stoic, never-changing expression told me that he wasn’t lying. “You… want me? But I’m…”

“A mortal? Ah, no. You’re a…special case.” His hand rested on my cheek, and his thumb brushed my lower lip. He usually had a confident aura, but now, it was penetrating through my soul. Paralyzing me. “I’m surprised it took you so long to notice. Mortals do tend to be quite oblivious, so I won’t take offense.”

“You… want me.” That came out barely audible, more repeating it so I could believe it myself. It made him smirk. My eyes couldn’t leave his, but I noticed him take a quick glance at me. My body, more specifically. “In, um… what ways?”

He moved centimeters closer as he confessed, “in all ways, darling. If that’s alright with you.”

“Wouldn’t that… break rules?”

“Supreme Kai law? Perhaps.” He brushed a piece of hair from my face. “But you of all people should know that I care little for those old-fashioned doctrines.”

“I see.” A brief silence ensued until I whispered back, “then, it’s alright with me.”

“Are you sure?” That came out almost teasing. “Once you start, there’s no going back. I’m sure you’re aware.”

“…I’m sure.”

He smirked in such a feral way that it exposed one of his fangs. “Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, my dear.”

That’s when his lips met mine. It startled me, but at the same time, I melted. I melted at such a quick rate that I couldn’t believe it. He pushed me against the wall, hands sliding down my sides. When I started to reciprocate, it was like all inhibitions were thrown to the wayside. His body was right against mine, and his tongue snaked right into my mouth. He tasted… like cedar. I wasn’t sure how to explain. A sap, more bitter than honey, but still retaining an intoxicating sweetness. On top of that, he was kissing me like he hadn’t had a taste of physical contact like this in hundreds, if not thousands of years. Then he pulled back and laughed to himself, murmuring, “exquisite. Even better than I imagined.”

I was trying to catch my breath. “You’ve… been thinking about this?”

“Of course I have. You invaded my thoughts. Thoughts of grandeur being tainted with thoughts of desire. I tried so hard to resist, but I can no longer do so.” His hand was sneaking underneath my shirt, but I was too enamored with his eyes to look down. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to see you for everything you are. To devour you. To make you mine.”

With that, he began to kiss me again. I knew how privileged I was. To be in such close contact with a Supreme Kai - a being like Zamasu - no other being in the universe would be given the opportunity. His hand was slowly pulling my shirt up, and then he separated from me to remove it entirely. My face grew red because I knew he was checking me out, but again, it made me feel small. Finally, he said, “come here.”

He pulled me toward my bed and he sat down on the edge. He spun my back toward him and pulled me onto his lap, guiding me to straddle one of his legs. With my back against his chest, I could feel his breath against my neck. His hands were sliding up my bare thighs, then to my hips, and then up to my chest. With ease, he undid the clasps, and my bra slid to the ground. Why he didn’t bother with my skirt was beyond me, especially when he turned my face to his. He whispered, “You are simply divine, darling.”

He didn’t give me a chance to speak. His lips met mine and his hands groped my chest. I couldn’t help it - seeking friction, my hips rolled against his thigh. What pained me more was the fact that he was still fully clothed. I couldn’t get as much as I desired. When he started teasing my nipples, I could tell that he was playing with me, much to his own amusement. When he started pinching them, I moaned into his mouth. It was shameless. He pulled back from my lips, and diverted his attention to my neck. Kissing and nipping at my skin, my body was reacting exactly how he wanted. He was chuckling to himself. Embarrassingly, it was almost too much, even though he’d done so little. I groaned, “Zamasu…”

I could feel his body tense as he said, “oh, that was marvelous. I’ve never heard anyone say my name like that before.”

He bit the side of my neck hard, triggering another groan. He would bite every sensitive spot he could find. One of his hands moved to my hip, guiding them in the same pattern they’d been grinding in, just with more force. I whimpered, mentally noting that I should’ve guessed he’d be some sort of sadist that liked to play with his food.

I heard him smirk as he said, “a sadist? I suppose so. Playing with you is far too much fun.”

I blushed hard. I would often forget that Kais could read minds, and I had no doubt that he’d been reading mine the entire time. I felt his hand slide underneath my skirt, moving dangerously close to the area that most of my body heat was gathering in. My hips bucked toward his hand, which made him laugh. “So reactive. Would you like me to do something?”

Even the tone of his voice was enough to make my body hotter. “I… need you to touch me.”

“You’ll need to elaborate, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

As he said that, his fingers inched closer. One of his fingertips was just barely grazing my clit through my panties. “I need… your fingers.”

“Where, darling?”

My hips bucked against his hand which made me blurt out, “in me. Please.”

“That’s a good girl. I suppose I can oblige.” He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss against my neck, and he took no time when picking me up and placing me down on the bed. The skirt was an easy thing to unzip and pull off, and my panties went with it, falling to the floor. His eyes were dark as he removed his overcoat, hanging it over the chair at my desk. He climbed over me with a predatory gaze as he mumbled, “oh, Gods, you are absolutely heavenly.”

That’s when I felt his hand touch my core. He explored everything with his fingertip, giving me a light kiss as he did so. He pulled back, leaving his lips brushing against mine as he looked down. “To think you could get this worked up so quickly… that’s sinful, darling. I’ve barely started.”

I tried to respond, but he pressed two fingers into me with absolute ease. He drove them into me as far as they could go, and he held them there, prompting me to try to move my hips. “Ngh, Zamasu-“

“Needy, are you?” He pulled his fingers back, and then pushed them into me once more, making me bark out a sound that resembled a groan. The smirk on his face told me that he was loving every second of this. I squirmed. He was holding his hand still. Then, he whispered, “I’m sure you can be louder than that. I suppose I’ll find out, won’t I?”

Only then did he begin to move his fingers. At a slow, but steady pace, always forceful when pushing them back in. He liked the way my body would jerk, and he liked the way my face would contort. I could hear it in his breath, which was getting deeper and more husky by the minute. Then, he curled his fingers, which made me groan his name again. It made him chuckle. “Yes, beautiful. Do it again.”

His fingers quickened in pace. My back arched up, pressing me against him. He kissed me. My fingers were gripping the sheets, and I felt him add a third finger. The stretch sent heat shooting through my body. It made my toes curl. It made my breathing go rapid, to the point where he pulled back just to watch me squirm beneath him. Finally, I mewled, “Zamasu… I… I’m gonna…”

And just like that, his fingers stopped. The high I was desperately seeking faded away, leaving me speechless. And he was smirking darkly as he slowly withdrew his fingers from me. When I was about to complain, he shushed me. “No, darling. You need to be patient. That was simply just to prepare you. Do you understand?”

I nodded shakily, every urge to complain fading away. I quietly responded, “Yes. I understand.”

“Good girl.” I felt him press a gentle kiss to my forehead. He whispered, “Now, give me a moment. Relax.”

I felt him move off the bed. My head was spinning. Not just from orgasm denial, but from his sudden shifts in demeanor. He could go from cruel to sweet in the blink of an eye. I was trying to catch my breath, staring at the ceiling through lidded eyes as I listened to fabric moving around. Then, I felt him crawl back over me, once again rubbing his thumb on my cheek. “Feeling alright, darling?”

I nodded, leaning into his touch. “Yes.”

“Good.” He brushed hair out of my face. He looked so… nice. Genuine, like he usually did. “Now, I need you to move up just a bit. Can you do that?”

I nodded, slowly pulling myself toward the top of the bed. He urged me along until my head was resting atop a pillow, and then he moved atop me. That was the first time I felt his bare skin against mine. It was strangely cold, and it sent a shiver down my spine. He kissed me passionately, hips pressing into my own. I could feel his length rubbing along my core, which made my lips quiver. He pulled back from the kiss and said, “I’m going to ravage you now, darling. Are you ready?”

I nodded quickly, hesitantly folding my arms behind his neck. He allowed me to touch him without question or protest. Then, his forehead pressed against mine as he slowly slid himself into me. We both let out a groan at the same time, and the farther he pressed himself in, the more my mouth fell agape. My hands grabbed at his skin, and he once again hushed me. “I know, sweetheart. It’s a bit of a stretch for you, isn’t it? But I have no doubt you can take it.”

“Oh, God…” I whimpered that with tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. When he was fully sheathed within me, I was holding onto him for dear life as my body adjusted. I had no idea what the anatomy of a Kai was like, but something like this was completely unexpected. I could see him sweating, using every fibre of his being to hold himself back until I was ready. Finally, I let out a deep exhale and said, “you… can move. Go ahead.”

He wasted no time. He pulled himself almost all the way back out, and then pressed himself back in. He did it again and again at a slow pace. On his face was a look of pure ecstasy as he acquainted his body to mine, and then his eyes stared down at me. He leaned back just enough to push one of my legs up against my torso, and at that moment, I knew I was quite literally fucked. As he stared down at me, he said, “This… is a sight I could very much get used to.”

I didn’t get much time to look at his physique before he started driving himself into me down to the hilt. The whines and groans that were pouring out of my mouth were loud and lewd, my hands searching for anything and everything to grab ahold of. The pace he was moving at was forcing me upwards with every thrust, and he looked like he was in a state of complete bliss. It didn’t take long for me to be pushed over the edge, which made him groan in a way that could’ve made me do it again if I had the physical ability. I saw him smirk as he said, “Gods, that was amazing. I wonder how many times I can make you do that?”

I saw an idea flash past his eyes, and he was quick to remove himself from me before turning me onto my stomach. He grabbed my hips, pulling them upwards with a feral look in his eyes. I was looking back at him as he plunged himself into me once again, taking up the same brutal pace as before. He leaned over me, mouth just inches from my ear as he growled, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything as divine as this before. You must be from heaven. I’m wholeheartedly convinced.”

“Y-You…” I could barely speak. The sheer amount of girth was hitting every single spot it could find. It was sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve in my body. I could barely mewl out, “so… good.”

“You poor thing. You can barely speak, can you?” He bit my neck, which triggered an immediate moan. “Heh. You like being mercilessly dominated by a god, don’t you?”

His pace didn’t falter, not even as he spoke. My body was contorted, chest against the bed and hips in the air. Between breaths, I responded, “I-I… I do.”

Then, he grabbed both of my wrists and pinned them behind my back with one hand. With the other, he had a bruising grip on my hip as he asked, “And what God is giving you the privilege to feel such pleasure?”

His pace was unforgiving. I came undone again as soon as he said that, which made him grunt. My brain was having trouble formulating words, but I cared little. No one I had ever done anything with made me feel anything close to what I was feeling. I whined, “You.”

He snapped his hips into me particularly hard as he ordered, “Louder. Tell me who you belong to!”

I yelled out, “You, Zamasu!”

“Good girl.” His pace stopped for a matter of seconds as he flipped me onto my back again, plunging himself into me as he delivered a violent kiss to my lips. One of his hands remained on my hip, and the other tangled itself in my hair. He was overwhelming me, and the only thing I could think about or feel was him. My body was in a constant state of pleasure. I couldn’t have even known if I’d come or not. What got my attention was when his pace became much less rapid and disorganized, and he couldn’t continue kissing me. His head fell to rest against the crook of my neck, and my nails raked down his back.

“Oh, Gods,” he groaned that right into my ear, which caused me to groan in response. With a few more hard thrusts, his pace slowed. He came to a complete stop deep within me. He must’ve hit a climax himself. Both of us were covered in sweat, and he caught his breath much faster than I could catch my own. He said in a sultry voice, “I’m surprised. You took that very well.”

I opened my eyes just a sliver to look at him. My voice was so quiet that I doubted anyone could’ve heard it. “Thank… you.”

“I think I’m going to stay here for a while.” I could see a satisfied smile on his face. I felt his body relax, and he held my head against the crook of his neck. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“No… I don’t.” Laying there with him, as he stroked my hair, I could feel myself falling asleep. Being in such close proximity with him - being in his arms - it made me feel untouchable. To be the one exception. The one treasure. “I don’t mind…”

“Hush. You’re rambling, dear.”

“I... sorry…”

“It’s alright.” I felt him press another kiss to my forehead. Yes, safe. That’s the way I felt. To sleep in the arms of a God… it was nothing I ever expected to happen. “Sleep, darling. No harm will come to you so long as I’m with you. That, I promise.”

#zamasu #dbz #dbs #dbh #dragon ball z #x reader #zamasu x reader #x female reader #dbz x reader #fem reader #mostly pwp #some fluff #zamasu is a suave son of a bitch #i love him #emz writes

93 notes · View notes