#because im a nerd

[fallingforlove]

Me rn.

[cursedcola]

Yuu: “It’s time I told you guys about my lore” *whips out powerpoint*

Riddle:….lore?

Azul: Oh - so you’re a gamer.

Idia: Oh - so you’re traumatized

[koiukiy-o]

orphic; (adj.) mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding. ─── 008 (II). the disquiet.

-> summary: when you, a final-year student at the grove, get assigned to study under anaxagoras—one of the legendary seven sages—you know things are about to get interesting. but as the weeks go by, the line between correlation and causation starts to blur, and the more time you spend with professor anaxagoras, the more drawn to him you become in ways you never expected. the rules of the academy are clear, and the risks are an unfortunate possibility, but curiosity is a dangerous thing. and maybe, just maybe, some risks are worth taking. after all, isn’t every great discovery just a leap of faith? -> pairing: anaxa x gn!reader. -> tropes: professor x student, slow burn, forbidden romance. -> wc: 1.2k -> warnings: potential hsr spoilers from TB mission: "Light Slips the Gate, Shadow Greets the Throne" (3.1 update). main character is written to be 21+ years of age, at the very least. (anaxa is written to be around 26-27 years of age.) swearing, mature themes, suggestive content.

-> a/n: um... surprise anaxa pov? mini update once again bc i couldnt help myself. hes a loser and i have no self control i fear... welcome home professor and fuck you very much for ruining my LIFE. i hope you guys like it! <3 next update NOT coming soon bc its going to need a LOT OF RESEARCH !! but it will come, hehe. -> prev. || next. -> orphic; the masterlist.

Anaxagoras sits unnaturally still, save for the occasional, minute twitch of his finger against the trackpad. The inbox is open again—has been, for the last thirty-seven minutes. He’s refreshed it thirteen times. Fourteen. He does not look at the time.

The email remains unread.

No reply.

Of course not.

He closes the tab. Opens another. Reopens the inbox. As if that would change the outcome.

He leans back, then forward, spine stiff and aching with tension he refuses to acknowledge. His other hand flexes once against the armrest, fingers curling in tight, rhythmic spasms. He imagines, absurdly, that he can will the message into existence by the precise calibration of his breathing: inhale, two beats, exhale, one. Inhale. Exhale.

Footsteps behind him. Soft. Familiar. The cadence of someone who does not knock.

“I thought you only hovered when you were revising a grant proposal,” says a voice, dry as old paper.

Cerces.

Anaxagoras doesn’t turn. “You’re early.”

She shrugs. He hears it in her voice. “You’re transparent.”

He ignores that. She crosses the office anyway, folds herself into the spare chair without invitation, like she’s amused by how much it bothers him.

“You know,” she says, glancing toward the screen, “for someone who claims to detest inefficiency, you’re wasting an awful lot of neural bandwidth watching that inbox not blink.”

He keeps his tone level. “I’m waiting for a reply.”

“Oh, I gathered.” Her smile is all teeth. “From the little prodigy, yes?”

“Pathetic,” she says lightly. “You’ve hit refresh so many times, the poor thing’s going to short-circuit.”

“I’m expecting–”

Cerces glides in, unimpressed. “You’re brooding. Badly. Honestly, it’s unbecoming. You usually pace.”

Cerces taps her nail idly against the edge of the desk. “Sent them my paper on subjective structure, did you?” She lifts a brow. “Bold.”

“It was relevant.”

“To their project, or to you?” she asks, with mock-innocence. “Can’t tell anymore. You sent out less reading than usual this term. Except to them.”

Anaxagoras does not dignify that with a response.

Cerces hums, leaning back in the chair like a cat preparing to nap on his thesis notes. “No wonder you’ve been unbearable all day,” she muses. He closes the inbox.

Cerces, satisfied, stands. “Just admit it’s getting to you.”

“It isn’t.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely getting to you.” She adjusts her coat. “You know what I think? I think you’ve finally found a student who doesn’t need your approval to be brilliant, and it’s making you—” she lifts a hand, gesturing vaguely at his expression—“like this.”

She’s halfway to the door when she adds, lightly: “It’d be romantic, if it weren’t so predictable.”

The door clicks shut behind her.

Anaxagoras stares at the inbox again.

Then he clicks refresh.

Just once more.

Anaxagoras locked the door behind him with a muted click, the old brass deadbolt sliding home with a satisfying weight. He stood there for a moment, coat still draped over one arm, his keys resting loosely in his hand.

The apartment was dim, lit only by the soft, residual glow filtering in from the streetlights outside. Dromas stirred from her place on the windowsill, her feline silhouette stretching languidly, but didn’t bother to cross the room to greet him. She knew his rhythms too well to expect anything different tonight.

He exhaled, low and measured, setting his folio and coat onto the small entry table. His movements were deliberate—almost mechanical. He loosened his cuffs, folded them back neatly, crossed the room to the kitchen only to stop halfway there, hands half-lifted in the faint, aborted gesture of making tea he didn’t really want.

Instead, he turned, leaning back against the counter’s edge, arms crossing over his chest as he stared into the middle distance.

It should have been a straightforward afternoon.

He had predicted the conversation. He had anticipated the questions—sharp, incisive, urgent in a way most students couldn’t muster even on their best days. He had even foreseen the almost inevitable moment when he would have to reveal that he had submitted the symposium application on your behalf weeks ago.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the look you gave him.

Not gratitude—that would have been easier to dismiss. Gratitude was impersonal, clean, academic. He could have tucked it neatly away with every other minor debt and favor exchanged in the endless currency of university life.

No—what unsettled him was that you had looked at him as if you understood. The warmth of it, the raw, unguarded recognition—it lodged under his ribs like a splinter.

Anaxagoras dragged a hand through his hair, the gesture more frustrated than he would have allowed anyone to see.

It wasn’t improper.

It wasn’t wrong.

You were brilliant—deserving. Your mind had already begun to unfurl in ways that few others' ever could. It would have been criminal not to give you the chance to sit in that room with Cerces and the others, to sharpen yourself against the brightest, most dangerous minds the field had ever produced.

And yet—

He pushed off the counter sharply, crossing the room to the bookshelf by the window. His fingers skimmed across the worn spines without truly reading any of the titles.

And yet there was an edge to it he could not name—a precarious, almost gravitational pull that had nothing to do with academics.

He had always prided himself on his ability to compartmentalize. To categorize attachments neatly away from the crisp structures of logic and methodology he demanded of his work.

But when you had stood across from him this afternoon, tablet still glowing faintly in your hands, passion and ambition thrumming just beneath the surface of your carefully controlled demeanor—

He had wanted.

Not just to teach.

Not just to challenge.

He wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t hold back. If you let that mind—the one so few even recognized as extraordinary—unfurl without apology or restraint.

To watch you unmask the depths of yourself, raw and unfiltered, free from the weight of expectation. He longed to see you, not as the student you so often hid behind, but as the person you were when you let go of the barriers you had so carefully constructed. He wasn’t just waiting to be impressed—he wanted to be seen by you, to be part of that unfolding, as if by witnessing it, he could catch a glimpse of something he had only dared to touch in the quiet spaces of his own soul.

He closed his eyes briefly, jaw tightening.

Cowardice isn’t always irrational.

Cerces' words. He understood them now, in a way he hadn’t when she first said them years ago, with that half-smile and a glint in her eye that hinted at the ruins she was quietly accepting.

If he was careful, this would pass. The symposium would come and go. You would find larger horizons to chase. That was the plan. That was the only rational outcome.

Dromas jumped down from the sill, padding over to rub herself against his leg. He bent down, absently running a hand along her back. She purred once, low and approving.

"You," he said softly, as if the cat could understand the accusation laced into the word, "have far fewer complications."

-> next.

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[gal-o-guacamole]

have you heard about friction welding

[dustykneed]

not a SINGLE day goes by where i don't think about that post with the photo of andrew's death grip on alex's waist. you know the one

(i have, regrettably, once again, lost the damn post. if anyone has any clue as to its whereabouts i would be much obliged if you could drop the link lol. but at the very least i had the presence of mind to download the photo so here yall go xDD:

[washichan]

Just now think about the relationship of Nero and Dante in DMC4 and DMC5. The possible other reason of why Dante pushed Nero away out of his life and go silent for years could be because of the implication that, Dante won't touch anything that of Vergil. As we have seen Dante trying to take Vergil's poem book from him in VoV. Ever since the fire that Dante likely blamed himself as the cause, he could have this mentality of not taking any that of Vergil, which also explain there is nothing of his twins that he owns. And it stretches to Nero, because Nero is Vergil's legacy. And Dante won't claim him, even though how much the young man meant to him, as the only surviving member of his family. Dante really love his nephew yet he doesn't want another tragedy happen due the things that has happened.

[superbellsubways]

🍂

[ruthytwoshakes]

2nd instillation in tf2 sniper teeth time. Putting her through the wringer with some made up evil dentist equipment. Uh uhhh sniper afraid of dental work but has many cavities that must be taken care of. SAD. rest in pieces bitch boy

[sothasil]

Two blokes slacking off at work :p

Cretan diplomats based on a painting of the tomb of Rekhmire, Luxor. I was intruigued by the leopard skirt thingy one of them is wearing and drew a more or less realistic interpretation of it! The other guy's there so he can have a buddy.

While i usually draw people looking as average as possible, it's not the case here. It's fair to assume that within the "PR" context of the painting (representing their people in front of a foreign king) these would be the ancient aegean's hottest boytoys, so I kept them snatched and smooth shaved.

Originals under the cut!

Mural with my chosen duo highlighted

Cropped closeup, leopard skirt guy on the left (and the two arms of jugs guy!)

[sophsicle]

OKAY question

i wanna reread choices and edit it but i can never make myself do it cause im like "ugh wow so long i simply cannot"

but also, every time i do reread parts of it i have like *thoughts* like SO many thoughts about it and about what i was thinking at the time and how that has or hasn't changed and what i was trying to do and what i love and what i hate and blah blah blah

SO the question: if i did like a lil read-a-long with soph thing, would anyone be interested? like maybe in the form of small podcast episodes where i discuss the chapters as i edit them and you guys can like tell me the different stuff you want me to talk about etc etc and then i will have the motivation to actually do this and also somewhere to dump all of my *thoughts*

or is that like, a stupid idea that no one asked for? i cannot decide whether this is leaning more on the fun cute side or the annoying keep this to yourself side, Y'KNOW????? so i ask

[vigilskeep]

learning how to use excel for an opportunity i have coming up and unfortunately i keep thinking about viago and irving because i’ve made too many jokes about how much they wish they were me rn (had access to spreadsheets). so the spirits of beloved horrible dragon age mentor figures are with me in these trying times

[killerzshadow]

Thank You:D And Mhmm!

Greek Mythology

So, From A Proper Mythological Standpoint, She's The Primordial Goddess & Personification Of The Night And Darkness, And In Some Aspects Sleep And Dreams. She's The Daughter Of Chaos, Along With Her Many Other Siblings; Erebus (Darkness), Gaia (Earth/Nature), Uranus/Ouranos (The Heavens), And The Rest Of Chaos' Children. She Went On To Be The Wife Of Erebus. She Currently Lives In Tartarus.

Nyx Is Mother To Aether, Hemera, Moros, Apate, Dolos, Nemesis, the Keres, the Moirai, the Hesperides, the Erinyes, Oizys, Momus, Oneiros, Hypnos, Thanatos, Philotes, Geras And Eris. Most Of Her Children Were Actually Born Without The Help Of Another (Asexually, Like Athena).

She's Known As One Of The Only Goddesses To Strike Fear Into Zeus.

As Somebody Who Worships Her Irl, I See Her As A Very Tough Love Mother. Similarly To Hecate (Whom She Is Fond Of). She's There To Offer A Push In The Right Direction And Will Not Sugarcoat Things.

Riordan Universe

Now, When It Comes To The Riordan Universe Itself, Most Of This Remains The Same. It's States In Her Wiki, "As one of the Protogenoi, Nyx is an extremely powerful deity, feared by many Titans and Gods. Nico once referred to Nyx as even worse than her sister Gaea." I Recommend Reading It! Now, In The Canon World She Has No Known Demigod Children, But That Never Stops This Fandom. 💪🏻

PERSONAL Children Of Nyx HCs

• Most Of Her Children Have Dark, If Not Black, Hair With Dark Eyes And Pale Skin. Their Skin Has Similar Traits To Albinism Though, So Direct Sunlight Isn't Fun

• They Are Night Hawks, And Much Like Hecate's Children Are More Powerful At Night

• They Get Along Very Well With Their Cousins From The Hypnos And Nemesis Cabins, But Most Of Zeus' Children Stay Far Away From Them

• Silver Jewelry. Period. That Is All/hj

• Astrology & Tracking The Moon Cycles Is One Of Their Favourite Things

• They're Very Scary Looking And Intimidating, But They Really Aren't That Bad When You Get To Know Them. Just Don't Push Their Boundaries Or Overall Piss Them Off

• Power-Wise? Umbrakinesis, Night Vision, Etc.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED POSTS, SO MANY GOOD HCS!!

https://www.tumblr.com/lemonistic37/699099197368107008/headcanons-for-children-of-nyx-powers-edition?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/deliaistoodelulu/743579397451317248/daily-pjo-underrated-godly-parent?source=share

Wish I Could Find The Og Post Of These But </3 Pinterest Has So Many, So I Recommend Looking There!

Nyx Cabin Aesthetic Board

Request By: @collectionof-cells

Fun Fact! I Worship Lady Nyx :D (I'm A Pagan Witch!)

Requests Open!

Please Request Cabin Mood/Aesthetic Boards In Asks!

[charred-slime]

from tommy's "THE LEGENDARY KARAOKE STREAM" timestamp 42:33.

[osteochondraldefect]

Sweet reward for obeying commands

[loudn0isesart]

SO!!! THE GANGS ALL HERE!!! I'm so tired hdhdhxhchch this took me like so long for what.

(I love them they're so stupid)

I may be insane

[dustykneed]

Picture this; Bones holding Joanna, rocking her to sleep and the part in Beautiful Boy where it’s like “The monster's gone, He's on the run, And your daddy's here” is playing. :,)

Fatherhood gives you certain... skills. Coincidentally, this is also how Jim finds out that Bones sings.

:'))