#maybe the horror element is new but like not that new

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/24/2024

you might be wondering “is my dear friend tumblr user girlfriendsofthegalaxy still unemployed?” the answer is yes. take this cat off my hands please i don’t think he’s causing the unemployment but he certainly isn’t helping

listening

via Wendy @dying-suffering-french-stalkers, Huoy Meas' ប្រគល់ក្ដីស្នេហ៍មកខ្ញុំវិញ. figuring out what this incredibly zippy Cambodian rock song is named and what it's about was really difficult bc spotify is a bane upon this earth and won't let you fucking copy-paste and OCR was not working on the Khmer script. i ended up listening to the first couple seconds of each of her songs on apple music, and finally figured out this roughly translates to Give Me Back My Love and is about begging a fuckboy for closure.

via the spotify discover weekly, Night Club's Pretty Girls Do Ugly Things. all Night Club's songs sound the same so if you like one, great news! i had this song on for a full gregorian hour bc, i am only a tiny bit ashamed to say, i was storyboarding a The Man With No Name fancam to this. i think it would go pretty hard.

Smoke you like a cigarette Choke you like a lariat Fatalistic tourniquet Do you want more?

-

reading

thank you mackintosh.

i did not Adore any of these comics from the library. i sort of enjoyed Night of the Ghoul, a one-volume TPB by Scott Snyder and Francesco Francavilla. i think ive blogged about this before but every once in a while i'll get a bee in my bonnet to read some horror comics even though i am a giant baby about horror movies.

Night of the Ghoul is about how you can't save your dad from PTSD but also about a lost horror film and also about the extremely dad behavior of tracking down every scrap of info about an auteur. there's also a monster.

the subtle art changes from present day to the remains of the film to the non-film flashbacks are well done, imo. the cover screams mignola but the inside pages are really fun pulp nonsense. i love a piece of genre writing that rolls around and delights in being a piece of genre writing.

im doing my level best not to get sucked into tiktok but i DO love watching this lady revive antique nail polish and look for dupes for shades from like the 20s. she found an almost exact dupe for a shade produced during wwii which is crazy insane to me!!!

-

watching

The Asphalt Jungle (1950, dir. Huston), it's a very painterly heist noir. i even like Sterling Hayden in one of the more prominent roles, even though i think he generally has the appeal of undercooked dough.

much like Fritz Lang's M, it presents the criminal element of the city as its own class with its own reputation and reference systems. it got in some trouble with the censors for having a VERY clearly laid out heist plan and execution. it's also got the babiest Marilyn Monroe in one of her earliest roles

this was such a gloriously messy movie. everyone is such a fucking mess. this woman only known as Doll is heartbreakingly, head over heels in love with Sterling Hayden's character. she's a little flighty and bumbling and silly, but determined! they're constantly orbiting the gravitational weight of her desire for this man and desire for a real life with this man. and that's just one subplot! she has maybe five minutes total screentime! she should have gotten a supporting actress oscar!!! everyone acted their fucking hearts out and it was so much fun to watch!

-

playing

monument valley is in the netflix games library this month (i don't actually know what their liscencing agreements would even look like, they and the studios they worked with were very tightlipped about that when they were rolling this out three years ago) but i assume it's going to be on the service for a while. i have never played this game, which makes me feel a little bit like a bad gamer. you can tell it's ten years old from some of the color and texture choices, but WOW did literally everyone take inspiration from this game.

this is the platonic ideal of a phone game. i get why everyone went insane about it and there was a brief boom of geometry-based puzzle mobile games. it is MUCH much harder now to get people to pay money to play a game that has a planned endpoint and planned number of levels, so netflix is a good home for it.

i was often frustrated but always delighted. the level below involves making something happening that made me genuinely gasp out loud in glee. well worth the annoyance of downloading the netflix app and scrolling through the poorly labeled and poorly sorted carousel of games.

great retrospective, a bit about how you need to have tiny teams go off and just kind of fuck around and bring weird stuff back, and a lot about how they actually designed the levels

The end result had a pixel-perfect axonometric aesthetic that not only went hard on its references to Dutch master artist and printmaker Maurits Cornelis Escher, but also dug deep into classic video game design, going right back to early arcade machines and 8-bit titles. Each of the ten levels is like a piece of fine furniture, built with invisible dovetail joints and inlaid with marquetry, stuffed with secret compartments and little design flourishes. Gray cites the world of theatre and stage design, as well as graphics, as important keystones in the way the levels were constructed. ‘Ken would always talk about flower arranging, and how you frame a silhouette of a level on the screen,’ he says.

-

making

update on the Phantom Menace fabric: pinked the raw edges and threw it in the laundry again with a very large quantity of vinegar. 50% poly was too high for it to really do anything, which is interesting. it didn’t lessen the seam edge effects either, which is a little annoying bc the seams were so gigantic and that’s a good chunk of fabric to lose. i am going to buy a camp shirt pattern at some point when i have money again but for now it goes in The Box

also! thrifted a pack of o-rings for jars for a dollar and finally put my grains etc in my pretty jars. they’re going to live in the pantry but today they live out on the countertop

[drawbudd]

You cannot tell me that while in the human realm Luz and hunter didn't play Minecraft together

[abyssalstardust]

Long time Dead Space fan and the remake is great etc etc but I can't put my finger on why a lot of the Necromorphs in the original DS just seem scarier

[fuckitfireeverything]

the best part about reading a lot of horror film scholarship is that it gives me a really solid idea of what I don’t want to do with my own writing/what to avoid

the worst part of reading a lot of horror film scholarship is that a lot of it is dogshit

[unproduciblesmackdown]

brian colson is a halloween friend; so just a normal friend with a little twist: when one performance of the phantom where he gets to go on as the phantom is over he ceases to exist

[jellybonbons]

KISS CAM!

Kenji Sato x gn!reader

CW: pure fluff, established relationship, possessive kenji, best friend (Mio).

Words: 1.0k

AN: gave a name for reader's bff becus I got sick of writing 'your friend'. comments and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to New Tokyo Dome, home of your Giants! Tonight, the Giants face off against the visiting Swallows in what promises to be an exciting matchup.”

It was your first time experiencing your boyfriend’s game live, a significant change from watching him on screen. Ken had given you two tickets, inviting you to see his baseball game in person and you decided to bring your best friend, Mio.

As you and Mio made your way through the bustling crowd to your seats, the excitement of the game day atmosphere surrounded you. The stadium was a sea of team colours, with fans cheering and the scent of popcorn and hot dogs wafting through the air.

Ken had been clear about keeping your relationship private for now, given that it was still new, and he didn't want to stir up any media attention. You understood his concerns and were content with supporting him discreetly, even from the stands.

You finally found your seats and settled in, the anticipation bubbling inside you. As you took in the scene, the field looked well-maintained under the stadium lights, and the crowd's roar was almost deafening. Your eyes instinctively scanned the field, searching for Ken among his teammates. When you finally spotted him, you couldn’t help but beam with pride.

Ken's tall figure was unmistakable, and as if sensing your gaze, he turned towards you – he had purposely given you tickets close to his dugout so he could see you from there. His eyes met yours, and he gave you a wink that made your heart flutter. The crowd that witnessed the interaction erupted in cheers, mistaking it for a playful gesture to all the fans.

Mio nudged your shoulder playfully. "Did he just wink at you? Oh my god, he totally did!"

You laughed, trying to keep your excitement contained. "Maybe he did," you said, your cheeks warming.

"Dude, if anyone noticed, you're going to be all over the sports news tomorrow," she teased.

"Let's hope they just think he was winking at the crowd," you shook your head, smiling.

"Well, either way, it's pretty amazing. Look at him! He's totally in his element."

As the game commenced, you watched Ken with admiration. The way he effortlessly swung his bat, the precision in his throws, and the commanding presence he had on the field – it was clear he was born for this.

You could hardly contain the pride and joy swelling within you as you saw him in action. Being a part of his world, even if only from the sidelines, felt like a privilege. If only he knew how much you itched to scream, “Yeah! That’s my boyfriend!” proudly with your chest, you might have made your presence even more known. 

Occasionally, the stadium's giant screens would light up with the infamous "Kiss Cam," zooming in on couples in the crowd. Each time it happened, the fans would cheer and clap, urging the featured pair to share a kiss. 

Some couples laughed and played along, while others blushed and waved shyly at the camera. You and Mio watched the spectacle with amused smiles, sharing knowing glances whenever the camera swung close to your section.

After a few rounds, the stadium's energy shifted as the game went into a brief break. The "Kiss Cam" made its rounds again, eliciting cheers and laughter from the crowd. This time, to your surprise and slight horror, the camera zoomed in on you and the guy sitting beside you. The giant screen displayed your faces for all to see, and the audience erupted in cheers, urging you to kiss the stranger.

Mio sensed your discomfort and immediately tried to defuse the situation. She leaned in closer, putting her arm around you and making exaggerated gestures to draw the attention away from the awkward scenario. However, her efforts came to an abrupt halt as she caught sight of Ken sprinting towards you from across the field.

—

Just as the chants grew louder, Ken, who was about to take a sip of his water in the dugout, glanced at the screen. His eyes widened in shock as he saw you on the Kiss Cam with another man. "Hell nah," he muttered under his breath, dropping his water bottle without a second thought.

With determined speed, he sprinted across the field. The crowd's cheers turned into gasps of surprise as Ken vaulted over the net and made a beeline for your seat. In one swift motion, he pulled you into his arms and pressed his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss. The stadium erupted in a mix of astonished silence and wild applause.

As he broke the kiss, he glanced around at the crowd, a smug grin on his face, clearly enjoying the attention and the statement he had just made. You stood there, stunned and speechless, your heart pounding in your chest. 

Huh?!?!

“You alright, babe?” he chuckled softly at your reaction, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Then, his gaze shifted to the guy sitting beside you, his eyes darkening with possessiveness. The guy raised his hands in surrender, nervously shifting in his seat before quickly changing places with the person next to him.

Before you could respond, Ken peeled off his jersey, revealing the snug turtleneck underneath. He draped the jersey over your shoulders, its warmth and his scent enveloping you. "Way to make an entrance, Ken!" Mio, who had been trying to help you deflect the situation, burst into laughter.

Still breathless from the kiss, you managed to find your voice. "I can't believe you just did that," you said, a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration in your tone.

Ken grinned, pulling you close. "I couldn't let anyone else have you, not even for a second," he replied.

The crowd's cheers and the flashing cameras faded into the background as you focused on him. "You're going to make your PR team work overtime with this move," you quipped, a playful edge in your voice as you finally caught your breath.

"Let them work. They should get used to it," he replied confidently. 

You chuckled and pulled him into a kiss. The cameras flashed even more intensely, capturing every moment of your embrace. From the sidelines, Mio let out a loud wolf whistle, her laughter ringing out above the noise.

You smiled against Ken’s lips, thinking to yourself, so much for keeping things lowkey.

Dividers by: @anitalenia

[matrixbearer2024]

Imagine being on the same level of nerd as Stanford Pines and just talking to him with the element symbols from the periodic table or whatever math equation you two are busy solving.

Jargon and numbers of all sorts ends up on random sticky notes all around the mystery shack for either of you to find.

The only reason why the rest of the Pines family even begin to know what that is was from Mabel's incessant theorizing upon seeing that one time her Grunkle Ford turned into a tomato because of your sticky note.

"Solve 9x - 7i > 3(3x - 7u)"

Didn't even take the researcher a minute before he realized what it is, his speedy thought process immediately crashing and burning from the emotional overload.

It wasn't subtle at all which notes were from who either. All of Ford's sticky notes were red, yours were [favorite color]. Strategically tacked onto random surfaces or even items by itself or stickers that you both had thanks to Mabel.

Sometimes you guys weren't the first to find each other's notes though, which is surprising given how careful you both are regarding each other's schedules and habits.

Ford also keeps all the notes he finds from you, they're sandwiched in a journal somewhere he hides from everybody. The last thing he needs is for Stan to find it and just spill out whatever heartfelt prose or solutions are in there regarding each note he finds from you.

At this point there's so much that it's no surprise how wordy that man can get when it comes to appreciating gifts or analyzing puzzles toward his caliber of genius.

You can imagine the horror when apparently Mabel finds one of the more raunchier notes in this game you both play because of her snooping though.

"Hey [Y/N]? What's this?"

"Yes Mabel? That-"

The immediate drop in your stomach when she's waving a little red sticky note at you, the kid's asking what it is but it looks like she damn well knows what it is.

"Is this a new note from Grunkle Foooord?"

"Haha... yeah... can I have it?"

Mabel grinned cheekily at you, causing a bright red to bloom all over your cheeks. Well, at least it was the Pines' niece that found it and not Stanley or god FORBID Dipper. You didn't know if Ford would try to stop existing if his brother found this note, or just immediately wish he split into atoms...

Thankfully she handed it over to you without much fuss, just giggling like a schoolgirl. Who knew what ideas were running rampant in her teenage head?

Maybe the both of you should stop this odd game, or crank up the cryptic! Who knows, you'll have to mention it to a certain enamored sixer. You grinned at the little sticky note and pocketed it, making your way down to the lab where you know he'd be working.

"If I was an enzyme, I'd be DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes."

Even while trying to be provocative he was cute. What a dork.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🎃 Spooky, Spooky Movies 👻

You're nursing a crush on Eddie but you're too shy to approach him. A shared love of spooky movies brings the two of you together.

❤️

You had been quietly nursing this little crush of yours for a while now, Eddie Munson was the object of your affections and your crush had only continued to grow the last month or so. Ever since school started again, you noticed Eddie more and more.

Not that he would notice you. Eddie seemed to have crushes on cheerleaders like Chrissy Cunningham, he wasn't interested in you at all.

If only you had the courage to join Hellfire Club or even something less terrifying like even saying hello to him once in a while. That could be a possibility.

You're pretty sure if you joined Hellfire you would just get all tongue tied around him. It was extremely annoying that he made you like this. If you were around people you knew then you were fine.

However being around the guy you were crushing on reduced you to mush. How you would love to make him laugh by saying something witty or just anything at all.

Secretly you watch Eddie while he's in his element, ranting about conformity, Miss O'Donnell and Jason Carver. His eyes are bright, a tiny smirk on his face as passionately begins talking about his new campaign in D&D.

After a few moments you pack away your things and head out of the cafeteria. You're not paying attention as you should and end up knocking into Eddie. Shit.

Flustered you apologise and Eddie flashes you and all dimpled smile as he gathers up your books for you.

Then his eyes trail down to your shirt and he points to it excitedly. "Jesus h Christ, that shirt is so fucking cool. I take it you're a big fan of spooky movies huh?"

You literally forgot you were wearing your favourite Evil Dead shirt today and smile up at Eddie. You were determined to at least hold a conversation with him and maybe your love of spooky movies was the key?

"Mmm, I think I've rented out every horror movie that Family Video has to offer" his eyes light up and he guides you to The Hellfire table, ignoring the rest of the members as he barked at Mike to make space for you.

The two of you spent most of lunch chatting about horror movies that you liked. When you mentioned you were planning to rent out Poltergeist and either Christine or Friday the 13th he was practically vibrating with excitement.

Then all of a sudden his usual confident demeanour vanishes and he looks suddenly shy, he tugs a piece of his hair across his face and peers at you nervously.

"Uh, I actually have Poltergeist rented out rented out ready, maybe you could come to mine and we could watch it?" Oh.

Was this like a date? No...it couldn't be right? You take a chance and ask him, completely expecting him to blow you off. "You mean like a date?"

He blushes but swiftly glares to silence the rest of Hellfire who begins to cat call and tease Eddie. The look immediately silences them and Eddie gestures for you to follow him out to the corridor. "Away from prying buttheads" he tells you and throws an irritated look at the Hellfire table.

Once you're alone he's a little shy again. "Yeah I mean like a date sweetheart" you're elated and stunned that this is actually happening and you accidentally blurt out something you've been wondering for weeks, maybe months.

"I thought you'd have a crush on Chrissy or the other cheerleaders" you admit and he scoffs.

"I mean Chrissy is sweet and all but no. Kinda got my world turned upside down by a beautiful, spooky movie loving lady" flustered but not wasting any more time, you beam and agree to the date.

"Yeah, I'd love to go on a date with you Eddie" he gawks then makes a show of clutching his heart and swooning, it makes you giggle and maybe fall a little bit more for him.

You didn't realise at the time that the date would be the start of something very special.

All because of your love for spooky movies.

Halloween 1987

Eddie is chatting to Steve as you browse through the horror selection in Family Video. You settle on The Thing, Nightmare on Elm street and Fright Night.

What you're most looking forward to is tomorrow when you and Eddie are going to the movies to see The Lost Boys. Both of you were excited for the film but you were anticipating it the most.

Vampires movies were a secret love of yours and this one looked so good. A perfect film to see before Halloween.

Once you've picked your selection you head up to the counter, Steve whistles as he eyes the titles.

"Ahh I see date night right? Munson's picks I guess?" Eddie snorts.

"My princess loves spooky movies I'll have you know Harrington" yeah you'd never get tired of hearing Eddie call you his princess.

Or for all the Halloween's together that were yet to come.

🎃🍁

[doublism]

“Traditionally in the horror genre, I think that the monster, the dread, the danger, the horror is something external, right? It’s like we’re running from the monster. The monster has been unleashed, and it’s coming for us, and we need to get away,” Schoenbrun said. “Whereas in my films, if there is a horror element to it, it’s very internal and it’s very subliminal, and in ‘World’s Fair,’ it’s this force inside Casey that might not even be real. In ‘I Saw the TV Glow,’ it’s this thing that Owen is hiding from that’s essentially killing him slowly from the inside. And I think this feels like an accurate way to talk about my own experience of dysphoria, which is very ambient and very subliminal until you break and scream at the top of your lungs at a child’s birthday party in an arcade.” Which is exactly what happens in “I Saw the TV Glow,” and it was through making “We’re All Going to the World’s Fair” that Schoenbrun began to understand their own trans identity more clearly. In that sense, the new film is their most autobiographical, as the dread-filled experience of gender dysphoria becomes the movie’s horror aesthetic.   “I think that we’re so used to expressions of transness in film that are fully externalized, right? It’s all about the external image. It’s all about looking in a mirror, and the mirror is cracked maybe, and you don’t feel like yourself, and you’ve always just wanted to be a beautiful woman, but you’re in a man’s body. This is just so far from my own pre-transition experience. I avoided mirrors, in fact, because I was hiding from myself, and the way that I hid from myself manifested in all of these unconscious ways and in all of these coping mechanisms that had so much more to do with this subtle, almost tonal sense that something was unreal or wrong or passing me by, this ghostly quality of life,” Schoenbrun said. The filmmaker continued, “So when I am making a movie about that, or in the future when I make a movie about healing from that, it only makes sense for it to be sort of imbued in the language of the film as a whole, tone, rhythm, the way time works in the movies, the aesthetics of liminality and of this sort of fuzziness of whatever it might be, static, analog, low-quality internet video. All of these feel to me like more truthful expressions of that feeling of unreality that we call dysphoria than a more direct and externalized expression of it.”

Jane Schoenbrun on How the Dread and Deterioration of ‘Twin Peaks: The Return’ Influenced ‘I Saw the TV Glow’

[abby-howard]

I'm going to be asking a lot of artists I follow this question, but how did you develop your style? It SEEMS like most people find their style and stick with it forever, just making improvements and iterations. I tend to work in a lot of different styles because I enjoy doing that, though I know there are things I gravitate towards as well. But I wonder what your journey was and how you got feedback and improved while staying true to what you enjoyed?

Hi there!

I definitely wouldn't say that I've found my style and stuck with it forever-- I feel like each of my projects has asked for a certain kind of art, and has presented new challenges that push me in new directions.

Some of that comes from seeing someone else's work and having something click into place that might fix errors/faults in my own, and then I might try to incorporate that, such as bigger outlines on my characters to help distinguish them from the background, or maybe a way someone else simplifies eyes that can help make mine look less weird.

When I first started drawing, I can see where I encountered certain influences because my sketchbooks suddenly switch to incorporating some new stylistic element that I liked from whatever I was reading/watching at the time. But it was never QUITE right, it was never just copying, there was always something ~wrong~ with it. And that wrongness was my style! As much as I hated it, that was what distinguished my art from being just a copy of someone else's. I hate it less now, and understand that other people see something there that maybe I don't, because it's just what happens when I filter other people's work through my head. My soul, if you will.

There are definitely through-lines with my work, driven by what I like drawing and what comes easily to me-- hatching is almost always a major component, and I like making expressive characters. Here's some of my earliest available stuff, from my old webcomic:

Then not long after that, I started The Last Halloween, which pushed me to challenge myself in both layout and style:

And here's the same comic, years later:

And here's a series I did for kids, where I had to use full color and lay off on the hatching, as well as learn how to reconstruct animals that we have no photo references for, which is definitely a place where style comes majorly into play, whether I wanted it to or not:

Then there was the horror book I did, where I tried to push my work to be less cartoony overall, and to work very hard on improving my hatching:

Then I started work on Scarlet Hollow, where I incorporated a limited/muted palette and had to once again push myself to make less-cartoony art, as well as learn more consistency so I could draw sprite sets. This was a big challenge for me, and has helped me grow as an artist so much!

And most recently, I wrapped up work on Slay the Princess, which required that I go back in the cartoony direction, but in a very different way than I was used to. This took a lot of sketching to figure out, and there's still a decent amount of artistic stumbling in Chapter 1 while I settled into it.

She's drawing on anime/Disney influence, but each Princess required a bit of stylistic variability. Some are more anime, while some are more realistic than even the Scarlet Hollow characters.

So I wouldn't worry too much, honestly! A person's style is often something that reveals itself over the course of their career, rather than something they choose and then try to stick to forever.

Even if you don't think you have a style, you do. It might vary a lot piece by piece, especially if you're trying to closely imitate another person's art, but the more work you do, the more you'll figure out your own strengths and interests!

[etz-ashashiyot]

Quotes from "Executed Jews" I want to especially highlight:

Two distinct patterns of antisemitism can be identified by the Jewish holidays that celebrate triumphs over them: Purim and Hanukkah. In the Purim version of antisemitism, exemplified by the Persian genocidal decrees in the biblical Book of Esther, the goal is openly stated and unambiguous: Kill all the Jews. In the Hanukkah version of antisemitism, whose appearances range from the Spanish Inquisition to the Soviet regime, the goal is still to eliminate Jewish civilization. But in the Hanukkah version, this goal could theoretically be accomplished simply by destroying Jewish civilization, while leaving the warm, de-Jewed bodies of its former practitioners intact.

For this reason, the Hanukkah version of antisemitism often employs Jews as its agents. It requires not dead Jews but cool Jews: those willing to give up whatever specific aspect of Jewish civilization is currently uncool. Of course, Judaism has always been uncool, going back to its origins as the planet's only monotheism, featuring a bossy and unsexy invisible God. Uncoolness is pretty much Judaism's brand, which is why cool people find it so threatening — and why Jews who are willing to become cool are absolutely necessary to Hanukkah antisemitism's success. These "converted" Jews are used to demonstrate the good intentions of the regime — which of course isn't antisemitic but merely requires that its Jews publicly flush thousands of years of Jewish civilization down the toilet in exchange for the worthy prize of not being treated like dirt, or not being murdered. For a few years. Maybe.

I wish I could tell the story of Ala's father concisely, compellingly, the way everyone prefers to hear about dead Jews. I regret to say that Benjamin Zuskin wasn't minding his own business and then randomly stuffed into a gas chamber, that his thirteen-year-old daughter did not sit in a closet writing an uplifting diary about the inherent goodness of humanity, that he did not leave behind sad-but-beautiful aphorisms pondering the absence of God while conveniently letting his fellow humans off the hook. He didn't even get crucified for his beliefs. Instead, he and his fellow Soviet Jewish artists — extraordinarily intelligent, creative, talented, and empathetic adults — were played for fools, falling into a slow-motion psychological horror story brimming with suspense and twisted self-blame. They were lured into a long game of appeasing and accommodating, giving up one inch after another of who they were in order to win that grand prize of being allowed to live.

Spoiler alert: they lost.

[...]

But Soviet support for Jewish culture was part of a larger plan to brainwash and coerce national minorities into submitting to the Soviet regime — and for Jews, it came at a very specific price. From the beginning, the regime eliminated anything that celebrated Jewish "nationality" that didn't suit its needs. Jews were awesome, provided they weren't practicing Jewish religion, studying traditional Jewish texts, using Hebrew, or supporting Zionism. The Soviet Union thus pioneered a versatile gaslighting slogan, which it later spread through its client states in the developing world and which remains popular today: it was not antisemitic, merely anti-Zionist. (In the process of not being antisemitic and merely being anti-Zionist, the regime managed to persecute, imprison, torture, and murder thousands of Jews.) What's left of Jewish culture once you surgically remove religious practice, traditional texts, Hebrew, and Zionism? In the Soviet Empire, one answer was Yiddish, but Yiddish was also suspect for its supposedly backwards elements. Nearly 15 percent of its words came directly from biblical and rabbinic Hebrew, so Soviet Yiddish schools and publishers, under the guise of "simplifying" spelling, implemented a new and quite literally antisemitic spelling system that eliminated those words' Near Eastern roots. Another answer was "folklore" — music, visual art, theater, and other creative work reflecting Jewish life — but of course most of that cultural material was also deeply rooted in biblical and rabbinic sources, or reflected common religious practices like Jewish holidays and customs, so that was treacherous too.

No, what the regime required were Yiddish stories that showed how horrible traditional Jewish practice was, stories in which happy, enlightened Yiddish-speaking heroes rejected both religion and Zionism (which, aside from its modern political form, is also a fundamental feature of ancient Jewish texts and prayers traditionally recited at least three times daily). This de-Jewing process is clear from the repertoire of the government-sponsored Moscow State Yiddish Theater, which could only present or adapt Yiddish plays that denounced traditional Judaism as backward, bourgeois, corrupt, or even more explicitly — as in the many productions involving ghosts or graveyard scenes — as dead. As its actors would be, soon enough.

The Soviet Union's destruction of Jewish culture commenced, in a calculated move, with Jews positioned as the destroyers. It began with the Yevsektsiya, committees of Jewish Bolsheviks whose paid government jobs from 1918 through 1930 were to persecute, imprison, and occasionally murder Jews who participated in religious or Zionist institutions — categories that included everything from synagogues to sports clubs, all of which were shut down and their leaders either exiled or "purged." This went on, of course, until the regime purged the Yevsektsiya members themselves.

The pattern repeated in the 1940s. As sordid as the Yeveksiya chapter was, I found myself more intrigued by the undoing of the Jewish Antifascist Committee, a board of prominent Soviet Jewish artists and intellectuals established by Joseph Stalin in 1942 to drum up financial support from Jews overseas for the Soviet war effort. Two of the more prominent names on the JAC's roster of talent were Solomon Mikhoels, the director of the Moscow State Yiddish Theater, and Ala's father Benjamin Zuskin, the theater's leading actor. After promoting these people during the war, Stalin decided these loyal Soviet Jews were no longer useful, and charged them all with treason. He had decided that this committee he himself created was in fact a secret Zionist cabal, designed to bring down the Soviet state. Mikhoels was murdered first, in a 1948 hit staged to look like a traffic accident. Nearly all the others — Zuskin and twelve more Jewish luminaries, including the novelist Dovid Bergelson, who had proclaimed Moscow as the center of the Yiddish future — were executed by firing squad on August 1952.

Just as the regime accused these Jewish artists and intellectuals of being too "nationalist" (read: Jewish), today's long hindsight makes it strangely tempting to read this history and accuse them of not being "nationalist" enough — that is, of being so foolishly committed to the Soviet regime that they were unable to see the writing on the wall. Many works on this subject have said as much. In Stalin's Secret Pogrom, the indispensable English translation of transcripts from the JAC "trial," Russia scholar Joshua Rubenstein concludes his lengthy introduction with the following:

As for the defendants at the trial, it is not clear what they believed about the system they each served. Their lives darkly embodied the tragedy of Soviet Jewry. A combination of revolutionary commitment and naive idealism had tied them to a system they could not renounce. Whatever doubts or misgivings they had, they kept to themselves, and served the Kremlin with the required enthusiasm. They were not dissidents. They were Jewish martyrs. They were also Soviet patriots. Stalin repaid their loyalty by destroying them.

This is completely true, and also completely unfair. The tragedy — even the term seems unjust, with its implied blaming of the victim — was not that these Soviet Jews sold their souls to the devil, though many clearly did. The tragedy was that integrity was never an option in the first place.

[...]

In Jerusalem that morning, Ala told me, in a sudden private moment of anger and candor, that the Soviet Union's treatment of the Jews was worse than Nazi Germany's. I tried to argue, but she shut me up. Obviously the Nazi atrocities against Jews were incomparable, a fact Ala later acknowledged in a calmer mood. But over four generations, the Soviet regime forced Jews to participate in and internalize their own humiliation - and in that way, Ala suggested, they destroyed far more souls. And they never, ever, paid for it.

"They never had a Nuremberg," Ala told me that day, with a quiet fury. "They never acknowledged the evil of what they did. The Nazis were open about what they were doing, but the Soviets pretended. They lured the Jews in, they baited them with support and recognition, they used them, they tricked them, and then they killed them. It was a trap. And no one knows about it, even now. People know about the Holocaust, but not this. Even here in Israel, people don't know. How did you know?"

— Excerpted from "Executed Jews," Chapter 4 of People Love Dead Jews by Dara Horn

(All emphasis mine)

Read the full chapter here.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit in the front room of Steve’s apartment. The vague recollection of that morning you fled tugs at your mind. You should have left Barrett then. Maybe if you hadn’t been such a coward, he would still be alive. 

It’s not just your mistake you ran from. It was reality. You put off the inevitable for far too long. You didn’t want your relationship to end. Not like that. On top of all that mess, you ignored yourself, your body, for too long. 

By the count of it, you’re nearly two months along. There’s no question who the father is. You and Barrett barely slept in the same bed, let alone got anywhere close to intimate. 

You drop your head and shiver. 

A shadow approaches and something clinks gently on the polished coffee table. You wince and glance up with only your eyes. You don’t move as you feel him looming over you. 

“Tea. Uncaffeinated. Gotta be safe--” 

“Why are you doing this?” You drone to the floor. 

“It’s been a long night. I figured it would help--” 

“Not the goddamn tea.” You lift your head and glare up to him. “We don’t know each other. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want this baby inside of me--” 

“You’re emotional. It’s hormones.” He says calmly. “I can recognise that. You’re not speaking from a good place right now. A lot has happened. You got big news and you’ve lost someone you loved. Once.” 

“You killed him. You—you murderer!” You stand and he shifts to meet you. He’s big. Not that you didn’t notice before but face to face, it’s even more obvious. You’re no match for someone like him. Not for Captain America. 

His jaw ticks and his eyes narrow. “I protected you. He was choking you. I could hear his pulse. He was full of adrenaline. He would’ve killed you if I hadn’t stopped him.” 

“And? All my problems would be solved--” 

“Don’t say that,” he snarls. His veneer cracks and his face contorts in anger. “You won’t talk like that when you’re carrying my child inside of you.” 

“I’m not keeping it--” 

“It’s not your decision.” 

“It’s my body,” you snip. 

He takes a deep breath and his nostrils flare as he lets it out. He considers you and his features ease. “Like I said, you’re not thinking straight right now. Sit down and have your tea.” 

You stare at him then look past him to the door. He puts his hands on your shoulders, drawing your gaze back to him. He pushes until you sit. Enough to warn you of his full force. You gulp as your butt meets the couch. 

“Stop acting like this is the worst thing that could happen to you,” he drags a hand away and grabs the tea. “I’d say it’s the best thing you could hope for.” 

He hands you the cup, holding it by the body even as it steams. You take it by the handle and watch him. He releases it as your knuckles touch the searing porcelain and you tremble.  

“Besides, where are you going to go?” 

His question breaks the last of your resolve. Your shoulders slump and you look down into the depths of the pale herbal brew. You blow over it and drink without feeling the singe on your tongue. That simple act keeps you from devolving into a new fit of horror. 

He turns and sits beside you. You want desperately to move away but you don’t have the energy. You’re not sure if it’s acceptance, fear, or just complacency.

You’re done. It’s over. Each time you close your eyes, you see the blood pooling under Barrett’s battered head. 

“That’s it, deep breaths.” He reaches to rub your back. “All that excitement, you gotta be exhausted.” 

You don’t react. Not even a twitch. He caresses your shoulder and his fingertips flutter across to your neck. His touch creeps up and he pets your hair. 

Your eyes search and land on his shield. It hangs from the wall. The edge is still dark red. Your vision blurs as you fixate on it. 

“Wash it off.” You grit through your teeth. 

“What?” He winces and runs his index and thumb along your neck, resting his hand across the back. 

“His blood. His fucking blood!” You slam down the mug and it sloshes, scalding your hand. You yelp and wrench away from him. You stumble to your feet and storm across the apartment. “Get rid of it! Gone! Gone!” 

You grab the bottom of your shirt and wipe the reddened metal. The blood chips away and flecks onto your hand. You whimper and drop the shield, recoiling. You cover your face and heave. 

“God! Just make it stop!” You shriek. “This can’t be real. It can’t!” You spin and stagger around dizzily. “No, no, no--” 

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s footsteps mirror his placid tone as he approaches. “Stop it.” 

“What is wrong with you?” You tear your hands away from your face and growl. “Why don’t you care? You killed him!” 

He stares at you. His expression is tepid. His head tilts as the corners of his lips curve, just a little. 

“Why would I care? I got you.” He shrugs. 

[wyrmswears]

'The tiger didn't just take one sandwich. He took all the sandwiches on the plate and swallowed them in one big mouthful. And he still looked hungry.' - The Tiger Who Came to Tea, Judith Kerr

au where jordana is the new master of lightning. details below vv (its long)

ras sets out to recruit jay to join the shadow dojo. the rest of the evil friendgroup™️ is left behind so ras can coerce jay without interruption. jordana meanwhile has some reason to seek out ras, a question or smth idk doesnt matter, point is that she goes looking for him and finds him trying to convince jay to join their team. the conversation... does not appear to be going well for ras. jay isnt interested; hes just escaped the administration and hopes to go off on his own, making the most of his freedom, not exchanging one boss for another. eventually it becomes clear that ras isnt going to be able to convince him, and so he makes a decision. if jay isnt on their side, hes a potential threat, particularly if the ninja find him. thus, ras eliminates the threat.

watching your boss kill a man is actually very scary, jordana would probably attest. she watches in horror as it takes several blows to finish him off, and all the while ras is unaware of her presence. jay, on the otherhand, notices her and reaches towards her just before the final blow. at the time, jordana believes that he was reaching out for help. in a weeks time when she realises the presence of electricity in her veins, she believes that he was choosing her as the successor for his element.

ras is pleased when he finds out jordana is the new elemental master of lightning. this was not his intention, but somehow its worked out even better for him than he could imagine. he orders for jordana to start training her element, neglecting her growing expertise in magic that shes been working on. shes upset by this, of course, but doesnt argue. after all, she just saw ras kill the previous master of lightning for not doing as told, so even if ras neglects to mention his meeting with jay, jordana still has plenty of reason to listen to him.

lightning is somehow worse than evil dark magic. its fucking annoying too. the element has a mind of its own and its presence feels like a whole nother person following her around and it incites nonsense emotional reactions to random phrases and actions like for some reason it really hates when she talks about wishes-

oh. ok. and so maybe this isnt the normal elemental experience.

when jay died, he became fused with the element of lightning, becoming a part of it. when jordana first realises hes there, its because her powers went haywire and he took the opportunity to make himself a form out of the excess of lightning. how lovely! in those initial days, its difficult for jordana to tell how much of himself he has retained. he doesnt speak and generally appears in a dazed state, but his emotions are strong and she can feel every one of them

eventually, he begins to find himself and starts speaking and being an annoying ghost-element-mentor thing. he still lacks his memories from before the merge, but has an endless amount to say about the videogames he played in his office. jordana wont admit that he exists to anyone else, but slowly grows to appreciate his presence.

the tournament of the sources comes around and jordana is now almost exclusively reliant on her element. her magic use is minimal and when its stated that only elemental masters can join the tournament and she joins the contestants, she can feel the ninja sending her suspicious glances. but its fine, because she can finally make ana see her this way. lightning is the perfect match against the technology powers that ana wields - all it will take is one moment of contact between her element and whatever mech ana creates and the systems will be overloaded and ana's element will be rendered useless. joining the tournament will be a good thing for her, surely.

it seems less of a good thing when the water ninja is trying to kill her.

theres more to the au but this is what ill put in this post :] feel free to ask questions if you want, ill probably talk abt it more anyway because ive been rotating it in my head

[deepfrost-citadel]

"You know," Xisuma said, peering cautiously over Cub's shoulder at the museum's latest addition, "When you said you wanted to show me a new exhibit, I wasn't expecting…" He trailed off.

Evil Xisuma glowered at him from inside their enclosure.

"…This."

To say Evil X looked a little miffed about the situation would be an understatement. At least Cub had done a nice job decorating, Xisuma thought, between the blackstone and crimson wood, Evil X looked right at home - if they weren't sitting grumpily in their 2-by-1 lava pool, surrounded by the mangled remains of whatever Cub had put in there for enrichment.

"Surprise!" Cub grinned, doing jazz hands at the enclosure, "I know what you might be thinking-"

Xisuma doubted that somehow.

"- 'Cub, Evil Xisuma hasn't done anything this season! They aren't a historic artefact! They shouldn't be in a museum!' But!" Cub wagged a finger triumphantly, "They are important to the history of Hermitcraft as a whole. So really, if you think about it, they definitely belong in a museum."

"… Okay?"

"Glad we're on the same page."

Xisuma wasn't sure if anyone was ever on the same page as Cub. Except maybe Scar.

"Now! As you can see, I've been decorating their enclosure, trying to add some interactive elements for guests and such." Cub pointed towards a line of redstone lamps at the top of Evil Xisuma's enclosure, "These show you how much electricity they're generating when they do their lightning hands thing. I'll be honest with you, it's broken a few times already so it's still a work in progress-"

"… Is that what all the lightning rods are for?" Xisuma frowned, eyeing the entirely lightning rod-ed ceiling.

"It is indeed!" Cub said, ignoring the twinge of concern in Xisuma's voice, "Well, a little. Mostly it's a safety thing, it wouldn't be good to have guests being electrocuted, now would it?"

"I suppose not… And it definitely works?"

"Oh yeah, it's been very thoroughly tested. Hey, Evil Xisuma," Cub walked up to the glass and tapped on it a few times, much to Xisuma's silent horror, "Wanna show X how the lightning rods work?"

In response, Evil Xisuma stuck their middle finger up at him and yelled something muffled to almost inaudibility that sounded a little like: "When I get out of here, I'm going to rip your head off and use it as a coffee mug, you stupid e-boy twink."

The pair on the other side of the glass blinked.

"… That's a no then." Cub turned back to Xisuma, "They do this a lot."

"They certainly do," Xisuma nodded faintly.

"You can probably tell the glass is uh... Mostly noise-cancelling, had to install that because Helsknight is in the next enclosure over and he's still hibernating. You know how Wels gets when you wake him up early, don't wanna find out how that guy is."

"… Of course," Xisuma sighed, pinching the nose bridge of his helmet, "Do I want to know how you got hold of those two?"

Cub laughed in the slightly unhinged way that gave Xisuma visions of Cub spending several weeks toying with the evil hermits as he hunted them for sport, "Nah man, it's not an interesting story."

Somehow, Xisuma doubted that.

"Anyway," Cub said, changing the topic before Xisuma could ask if he knew there was still someone's blood on his left sleeve, "What I really called you for is that I need an Evil Xisuma expert, and you're the man to ask about all things Evil Xisuma."

"Except for Evil Xisuma."

"Except for Evil Xisuma, yes." Cub nodded sagely, "So. Obviously I wanna make sure everything is nice for our new residents, give them plenty of enrichment and all that, but it hasn't been working out so far."

"I can see that."

"Soo… Any suggestions? What kind of thing does Evil X like? Food? Blocks? I dunno, fake derpcoin or something?"

Xisuma hummed, tilting his head in thought as he gazed at Evil Xisuma, who had clambered out of the lava pool to press their hands against the glass and give Xisuma the saddest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes their LED screen could muster (which, admittedly, were very sad and pathetic) in a silent plea to not leave them here with that madman, they'll be good for realsies this time they promise-

"Well," Xisuma said, turning to Cub, "They like to knit, so maybe they'd like some wool… Oh! And if you can find any old Wormman merch, they'll love that too."

Evil Xisuma's head hit the glass with a despairing thunk.

[ivystoryweaver]

Perfect Fit (Volume 1)

Read Volume 2 || Perfect Fit Masterlist

Idk, babes The muse has spoken...

Pairing: Nathan Bateman from Ex Machina x f!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You are Nathan's employee and are staying at his secluded home for experimental android purposes. Shenanigans ensue. Like - two Nathans shenanigans.

Content: MDNI, NSFW, you are responsible for your reading. (more below the cut) NATHAN BATEMAN SHOULD BE WARNING ENOUGH

Content/Warnings: sci-fi semi-horror elements, smut - pwp, oral-m and f rec., p in v, unprotected sex, voyeurism, dacryphilia, degradation AND praise, anal sex, group sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dub con related to possible gaslighting, sex with AI/androids, language, Nathan is his own warning - he's a narcissist duh, sci-fi nonsense, not beta'd, I'm a Nathan-writing virgin so enter at your own risk

I guess that's all?

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

"I have a surprise for you."

Nathan - your boss and temporary roommate, in the loosest sense of the term - breathes on your ear.

"Shit - Nathan!" You gasp, nearly slicing your thumb off with vegetable knife you're using. "You scared the shit out of me."

Whirling around, you find his nose crinkled in mischievous (evil) laughter.

So you smack him with the flat side of the knife's blade.

"Fuck, sweetheart, calm down," he admonishes, trapping your wrist in his strong grip. 'You'll like it, I promise." Thick, dark eyebrows shoot up over wire-rimmed frames. Okay, this asshole is pleased with himself. What else is new?

Maybe you should lighten up about the little jump scares he likes to do. After all, it's the only time you get a laugh out of this narcissistic genius.

Nodding your head toward the countertop full of chopped veggies, you protest. "I'm making soup."

"Come on," he decides for you, pulling the knife from your grip and laying it on the counter. Wrapping his fingers around yours, he drags you out of the kitchen.

So bossy. But hand holding is the sweetest it gets with this man.

So you follow.

In your weeks living with/working with Nathan, you've discovered two things:

Arguing with him is pointless.

His dick is big enough to match the size of his ego.

You promised yourself you would NOT engage in any physical relationship with your reclusive, genius, billionaire boss. Yeah, that lasted about three days before you climbed on top of him.

Since then, business and pleasure mix on the daily. So, wherever he is almost sweetly leading you by the hand - well, it could be work-related, but it's likely...recreational.

Wrong. It's both.

"Here we are," he announces, guiding you into one of his indoor pool areas. This particular pool resembles a lush, tropical paradise. An actual stories-high waterfall cascades down into an artificially warmed pool. White bubbles float all over the surface, foaming at the waterfall's base, and giving off a bubble bath vibe. Greenery surrounds you, along with bright, tropical flowers.

"I remember this pool. You showed it to me on the first day."

Nathan makes a face. He isn't a fan of you (or anyone) stating the obvious.

Still, something has him in a good mood. Like a better than we're-about-to-fuck-in-this-pool good mood.

"Get in," he nods, pulling off his glasses before peeling his soft white shirt over his head.

Soon enough, your slick, naked bodies bob in the water as Nathan lifts your thighs around his waist and licks his way inside your mouth.

His thick beard tickles your face, the tingling sensation a dizzying contrast to the soft caress of his lips as his tongue rolls over yours.

Suspicious that he could be this excited about a quick romp in the water, you decide to enjoy yourself. After all, just him yanking his shirt over his head created a personal waterfall between your legs.

After a salacious make-out, you let out a yelp as he pulls you by the hands through the rushing waterfall.

Cool water dumps over your head, making you squeal at the contrast to the pool's warmth. Once you emerge behind the waterfall, you see it: the cause of Nathan's...chipper mood.

Lying naked and stretched out like a Renaissance work of art, on a large, flat rock, is...Nathan.

Well, not Nathan.

Your Nathan (is he really yours?) smirks, folding his arms over his bare chest with a look of self-satisfaction like you've never seen.

The other Nathan perks up at the sight of you. His eyes instantly fall to your chest, and he wets his lips at the sight of your bare breasts - nipples pebbled from the cool waterfall.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, you notice him...getting hard.

Your Nathan is practically salivating.

"What the hell is this?" You question warily, finding it difficult to tear your eyes away from this Nathan-shaped Other with a Nathan-shaped cock.

"He likes you," Nathan nods toward The Other's erection as if it is scientific proof.

Other Nathan pushes off the rock, his muscles flexing deliciously, into the pool's warmth, half-swimming, half-walking toward you, with...intention.

You instinctively countermove to Your Nathan's side. "What is going on? What does he want?"

"What do you think he wants, sweetheart?" he murmurs lowly against your neck. A shiver zips down your body, straight between your legs.

"He...it's...he's like..."

"Fucking hate it when you stutter," Nathan groans. "You know what he is. You know what's about to happen." Boldly reaching for you, he cups your cunt, swiping his fingertips through your slick folds, his teeth teasing your earlobe. "You want it to happen."

"Nathan, I ..." You gasp out as he rams two fingers inside you, pushing the pad of his thumb roughly over your clit.

The warm water heightens every sensation.

"You'll like him," Nathan assures you, roughly plunging his digits in and out of you as The Other stands directly in front of you. Dark, hungry eyes meet yours before traveling down the curves of your body to watch the Creator finger you.

The Other wets his lips again, reaching to wrap his fist around his cock.

"Oh fuck," you gasp, grinding your hips down on Your Nathan's hand as The Other strokes himself vigorously.

As infuriating as it is to admit, Your Nathan is right. This is doing it for you.

"Look at you, already moaning for us like a whore." As Nathan speaks, his teeth nip at the flesh behind your ear.

Then, without warning, he jerks his fingers out of you, causing you to cry out in frustration and surprise, your body stumbling forward into The Other Nathan...

...who grips your arms, steadying you, his straining erection prodding your abdomen.

"Give me a turn. I won't stop," The Other speaks in exactly Nathan's voice. The sound of it - the feel of his heavy cock against your skin mildly terrifies you - yet you find yourself responding eagerly as he surges forward to kiss you.

You feel Your Nathan's hand on your shoulder, jerking you back. "No fucking kissing." He glares at The Other warningly.

Your head whips around to your boss/fling, your eyes going wide at his one and only, ever display of possession over you.

"Nathan, what - "

"Come here," he interrupts, guiding you to the rock where you found The Other lying a few minutes ago. Your Nathan pulls you back against his broad, muscular chest, running his hands all over you, as if claiming you. The two of you lean against the rock, your bottom halves submerged in the warm, frothy pool.

His hands cup your breasts, kneading the soft flesh as his thumbs rub circles over your nipples. You keen and arch into his touch.

"Eat her out," he commands The Other...who nods once in response and stalks toward you determinedly.

"Wait, Nathan, how can - we're underwater - " Before you can finish your question, The Other eases below the pool's surface, nearly disappearing beneath the bubbles.

A second of silence follows and then you feel his mouth on your cunt.

"He can breathe underwater," Your Nathan almost purrs on your ear, working your breasts seductively while grinding his own erection between your ass cheeks.

"Mmmnnn...fuck," you moan as The Other's lips latch onto your clit, sucking underfuckingwater. His thick beard is always driving you wild and his lookalike is no different.

"You want him to stop, just say the word," Nathan offered. "But I told you - you'll like it."

Your hips involuntarily buck against The Other's mouth, which pulls growl of satisfaction from Your Nathan.

"Use him, babydoll, he can take it," he instructs, thrusting harder against you. "He's your toy. My gift to you. Play with him."

You could swear The Other Nathan smiles against your pussy before plunging his tongue inside you.

"Oh shit...oh my god..." your incoherent moaning makes Your Nathan chuckle in satisfaction. "What a good slut for us. Knew you would spread your legs so fast. Gonna fuck you until our cum is dripping out of every hole you've got, honey."

Nathan reaches for your thighs which he helps you hoist over The Other's shoulders. Taking your hand, Nathan guides you to grip the back of its neck.

"Fuck him, honey. Take what you want. Then I'll slip into that tight ass until you cry for me."

That nearly sends you right over the edge. Your hips buck wildly, sloshing water everywhere as you fuck yourself on The Other's tongue, hands pushing his shaved head against your aching center, yanking him against you with your legs - heels digging into the flesh of his back.

Nathan isn't kidding around. As soon as you start writhing, he pushes your cheeks apart and eases the tip of his cock into your tight hole.

Thankfully, you've done this before, many times, but the sting is still there - the stretch of it - as Nathan works his thick cock into you slowly.

You still your rocking, which seems to infuriate The Other, still underwater. He jerks at your hips to pull you forward, but Nathan is still pushing into your ass.

A slight tug-of-war ensues - but the water soothes and slows things down just enough so that- moments later, you have one Nathan in your ass, breathing on your neck, whispering filthy things in your ear, hands wrapped around your tits. And The Other Nathan underwater, slurping and licking and sucking - worshipping your cunt.

Your body arches violently as you come, your moans embarrassingly loud.

"That's it, honey, squeeze my cock so tight," Nathan grunts right on your ear.

You're still coming down from your high as The Other emerges from the water, eyeing you hungrily. Your Nathan is still inside you, pumping slowly.

"Look at his cock," Nathan instructs. "Do you know how much work it took to replicate this dick for you? Do you see what I made for you?"

"Y-yes," you stammer, admiring the creation before you, still heady and euphoric.

"Good. He's gonna fuck you now, babydoll. We both are. That alright?"

The thought of two huge dicks inside of you sends a bolt of nervous anticipation through you, but Nathan is filling you so good. You don't want to stop.

"Use him," Nathan repeats his command, even as The Other reaches for the swell of your hips. Staring into your eyes, he bends his knees slightly, reaching for his stiff length and sliding the tip through your folds.

Without any more fanfare, he pushes deep inside you and you scream at the intrusion. It's too fucking much - two of Nathan. Two cocks so thick - so fucking heavy, thrusting inside you, using you like a doll.

They set a rhythm, back and forth, over and over, a little faster with each thrust, hands roaming, fondling, caressing your wet skin. The press of two sculpted bodies caging you in already has you close again. Your next orgasm hits you like lightning, your body seizing in mind-altering pleasure as the two men inside you push and plunge harder and faster.

Your Nathan comes with a strangled cry, filling your tight hole with his spend, fascinated by the sight of another him fucking you so good.

Nathan is Nathan's favorite person, so watching himself rail you is the ultimate high. And this surpasses the many other times he's watched himself fuck his androids played back on a screen.

Easing out of your tight hole, he takes a step back in the water, admiring his handiwork.

He's a goddamn genius.

With Your Nathan no longer behind you, The Other pauses just long enough to lay you down on the rock and hoist your legs up around his waist. He leans over you, palms flat on the rock - one arm on either side of your head - and smiles down at you wolfishly.

He winks. "Let's give him a show. Let him see I'm your perfect fit."

Your eyes dart over to Your Nathan for some sort of sign of disapproval, but The Other grips your jaw. "Look at me."

If Nathan hears The Other, he ignores it, seeming content to have come in your ass, and now, to watch a version of himself lay you down and pound his seed into your cunt.

You go a little hazy as your eyes once again find Your Nathan's, holding his gaze while his creation snaps his hips hard and fucks into you faster than Nathan has ever managed.

Nathan is onto something here, because the fact that he is watching pulls moans as loud as the waterfall from your throat. Your body twists and arches violently, giving him quite the display.

"What a good whore," The Other mocks, "fucking yourself on a toy. Because that's all I am, right?" He glares at his maker and comes during this act of defiance.

You're too fucked out to keep up with the conversation at the moment, but Your Nathan darkly chuckles. "Shit," he whistles. "I'm so fucking brilliant, I even gave you my ego."

Then he turns to you. "You alright babydoll?"

You let out a breathless laugh, attempting, but failing to drag yourself up off the rock. Apparently, they are done with you for now

"Pick her up," Nathan instructs The Other, turning to climb out of the pool.

Wait, is he just leaving you to the machine? Asshole.

The Other Nathan complies, offering his hand to help you up. You take it, easing off the rock and back into the water, stumbling into his chest.

"You okay?" It asks you in a hushed whisper, grasping your elbows to steady you.

You assure him you are fine. Taking your hand, The Other leads you back the way you came, through the waterfall, but just before you dunk your heads under the cool rushing water, he pulls you into his arms and stares deeply into your eyes. Then brushes his mouth over yours.

Your Nathan has already passed through the waterfall and left the room for all you know. Still, he'll see this. He always sees everything. It’s a condition of you living here.

Feeling a slight resistance from you, The Other Nathan releases you. "You like kissing," he states, as if discussing data and not pleasure.

"What?" You question, your chest heaving with desire and confusion.

"Don't make me repeat myself." One dark eyebrow shoots up condescendingly. How very Nathan. "He doesn't kiss you as much as you want. I know - all the footage is stored in my memory." He taps one finger to his forehead with that know-it-all Nathan smirk. "He doesn't kiss you enough, but I will. I'll kiss you anytime. Will you kiss me back?"

You're stupefied.

It takes you a moment, but then you remember. Nathan said The Other was for you. Nathan said 'use him.'

Why the hell not?

"I'll kiss you back," you shrug, barely finishing your sentence before The Other pulls you against his chest, melding his lips with yours. He samples each lip before licking his way inside, his hands already sliding down over the swell of your ass to hook under your thighs.

Before you can even think, he pushes his cock inside you again, which is unrealistically hard already, his knees bending just a little as the two of you ease further down into the warm water.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you decide to enjoy this present from Nathan - this Nathan shaped fuck machine. Feels kind of wrong, but fucking hell does his cock feel real plunging in and out of your cunt underwater.

"He told me I would like being alive," The Other whispers, running his hands up the curve of your back to grip your shoulders and pull you down harder into his vigorous thrusts.

"He was right. I do," he rambles on, fucking up into you faster now.

The familiar heat pools in your belly as he fills you so good. So like Nathan. Only...sweeter? Or are they the same?

What the fuck is wrong with you?

"This is what I was made for," he pants against your lips, the rhythm between you making literal waves in the pool. He kisses you again and your back arches in bliss, your cunt squeezing him until he fills you up again.

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Nathan watches on the monitor as his doppelgänger kisses you and brings you to orgasm number three beneath the waterfall. The sound of your moans lets him know how thoroughly he's succeeded. And The Other isn't wrong. You like to be kissed.

Nathan types out some notes before heading to the kitchen to finish dinner.

"Have fun?" He asks you once you find him in the kitchen. You took a shower (alone) before finding your boss.

Best to be honest with Nathan - he knows everything anyway.

"He's amazing," you answer simply. "Unbelievable, really."

Nathan smirks, setting down the knife he found you with earlier. Without another word, he pulls you close and kisses you breathless.

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Life with two Nathans is something else.

The next several days of work are centered around this new android.

That's where you find yourself now - in your bedroom with your shiny new toy. And Nathan.

"Sit down," Your Nathan tells The Other, nodding toward the bed. the three of you are naked, as usual, but the boys seem to be in a bit of a mood today.

They're both hard and ready to fuck you too.

"On your knees, babydoll," Nathan beckons you. You comply, dropping down in front of him, knowing exactly what he wants.

Dark eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, you feel like his priority instead of his damn other self.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as Nathan grips your chin. "Such a pretty mouth," he murmurs, squeezing your cheeks together which forces your lips open.

He pushes the tip of his cock inside, shuddering at the absolute heaven that is your velvety mouth. You swirl your tongue along the slit, tasting him before tracing the ridge. Wrapping your lips around him, you hum against his skin, sucking on his tip, giving him a tease before he pushes his way to the back of your throat.

You gag for a moment, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. Breathing through your nose, you swallow the tip of him, laving your tongue along the underside of his shaft.

"So good, honey, just like that."

The Other Nathan grunts out a disapproving sound. Unlike your Nathan, he doesn't seem to be enjoying your mouth stuffed full of his Creator.

Which makes Your Nathan enjoy this even more. He grips your head, thrusting into your mouth like you're a toy. You gag as a drool dribbles from the corners of your mouth. You normally love being used by him, but he's not enjoying you for you at this point. And it's not even about getting his dick wet.

You tap his thigh forcefully, letting him know you need a breather. Normally you like to take what he gives, but is the goal to make an android feel jealousy? You’re distracted by the confusion and you want to enjoy this too.

"What? What is it?" Nathan pulls out of your mouth, his eyes darkening in concern. "You okay?"

Just when you think that maybe you mean nothing to him, he pulls this. He always does. 'You okay?' Those two words and his beautiful brown eyes are your weaknesses.

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

You awaken in the night to feel lips hot and wet on your neck and his thick, hard cock pressed against your ass. Someone's hungry. The question is: who?

You've been having so much sex, you can hardly keep track anymore. Truthfully, you start to wonder if you are the personal fuck toy. You spend your days naked and cockdrunk, their spend leaking out of your holes, rug burns on your knees and a sore jaw, and so many back-to-back orgasms, you start to wonder if this some twisted version of heaven.

"Nathan..." you murmur, almost instinctually pushing back against him, grinding into his erection. "'m sleepy."

"I know, honey," he purrs on your ear, sliding one hand across your abdomen as you lay side-by-side. "All you have to do is lie there."

You groan. "Are you Nate or Nathan?"

Nate is the name of The Other. Your Nathan didn't want him to have a different name - ego wouldn’t allow it - but 'Other Nathan' got old fast.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He teases, pushing his fingertips down between your legs.

Okay, that felt good, but you asked a question.

"Fuck off," you whined, shrugging him off with your shoulder. "Don't touch me unless you tell me who you are."

But he grips you tighter. Right then, red emergency beams dimly light the room, indicating a power outage.

"Listen fast," he urgently whispers on your ear, his hand reaching to cover your mouth. "You can't trust him. You have no idea what he's done. What he's going to do. He can't hear us while the power's out. Tell me you understand."

"Mmmphh!" You struggle to speak, writhing to get away from whoever this is.

"Be still!" He hisses. You feel his biceps flex against your arms as he squeezes you, halting your movement. "We don't have time. You can't trust him. Do you- "

Suddenly, the red emergency lights switch off and power is restored. You had been sleeping, so the room is still mostly dark, but whoever was speaking to you says nothing more. He simply climbs out of bed and stalks out of the room, completely naked.

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

From there, things only get stranger. You begin to wonder if this whole Nate experiment is Nathan's attempt to gaslight you into...well, you're not sure what.

What could he possibly hope to accomplish by confusing you?

The answer should be pretty obvious: Nathan likes playing God.

Or is it Nate messing with your mind?

If the object of this experiment is: can Nathan's AI truly pass as a human being? Then he has probably succeeded.

You're between them now, lying on your side, in bed, one of them in each of your tight holes, thrusting in tandem, back and forth. The stretch of two heavy cocks filling you up has you whimpering and biting one of their shoulders, while the other one sucks bruises into your neck.

The sweaty press of skin against skin - your slick arousal creaming his cock, while the other one stretches your tight hole so good you cry for them, just like Your Nathan promised you would.

"Such a good girl, taking both our cocks, crying so pretty for us," the one facing you says, swiping the puddle of tears spilling down your cheeks. His other hand slips between the press of your bodies to strum at your oversensitive clit.

You sob, completely wrung out, but desperate for another release. As his fingertips trace a lazy pattern where you crave it most, your sob devolves into a low moan.

"Nothing but a desperate whore," the one behind you jeers, nipping a little too hard at your ear. "Too cockdrunk to tell who's stretching out your tight hole right now. Gonna fill you up, honey. And when I'm done, I'll fuck my cum right back into you."

The guttural moan that rips out of your lungs surprises even you as your back arches, your body seizing in yet another earth-shattering climax.

They're not done with you. Not yet.

You're too full - too fucked out to figure out who comes first. All you know is that an eternity passes, you've come so many times that your every nerve ending is on fire, only in the best way. And cum is dripping from both your holes.

One of them stalks out of the room, glasses on, cock soft and totally nude.

The other gathers you into his strong arms and carries you to the bathroom. He wraps you in a plush robe while running you a warm bath in the garden tub.

"I'll give you some space," Nathan declares, stripping you out of the robe once the tub is filled with lavender scented water and luxurious bubbles. He takes your hand and helps you step into the tub. "That was a workout," he winks. "You hungry?"

You stare at him, dumbfounded. Your Nathan? You felt so certain he stalked out of the room and Nate carried you to the tub.

"Nathan?" You whisper, your voice cracking - hoarse after crying and moaning so loudly and for so long.

"That's my name," he groans, truly hating obvious questions. "Nate's gotta charge up. You wore him out."

He is too damn pleased with himself to be Nate. Right?

You sink down into the bubbles, feeling a little better somehow.

The he asks the question.

"You okay, honey?" And those gorgeous brown eyes find yours.

Read Volume 2

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Miscellaneous Characters Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Follow @ivystoryupdates and turn on notifications to never miss an update

Join my tag list - for chaptered fics and short stories only

[addie4ddie2005]

THE NEW CHAPTER IS SO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVGDFCHBVKDSVBKHFBJLSVBJLSSJLVBSLJBVLS🦅🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥💥 GOOD FKN SOUP IM DEVOURING IT RN it might be my fav chapter thus far........It has elements of The horrors tm and scenes that make me kick my feet in delight GODDDDDD🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 AAAAnd as usual I have some new silly doodles that I've got (Sadly I cant draw fast enough to finish my fan art for this chapter BUTIMWORKINGONSMT). I do have the RGB reader designs that I mainly use so that other fans could (maybe....just maybe...) mold their reader/player into whatever they want but I DO have a design that caters to my fav design tropes...

ALSOALSO- I've got a folder righttt 👉here where I'll compile some more sketches (and the animation with the right sync good gracious me-) so that I dont BOMBARD you with 50plus images.

the last "AGAIN"- THE CHAPTER WAS SO SCRUMPTIOSSSSSSS- KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you I'm so glad you love it!! 🦅💥 (Nonsense emojis are becoming a habit I have to stoppp...)

It's so funny you said that cuz I have a Doc called "kicking my feet blushing giggleinf" that I use to jot down the "fluffy" moments when the inspiration worms hit x0

And take your time with the art gurl!! What you've already done is amazing!! The most important thing is that it's fun and engaging for you,, no pressure 🫶

Those RGB designs are a banger btw they have so much personality!! I forgot to mention I loved the color scheme of your animation. I'm a sucker for some super saturated RGB...

OKAY now I'm gonna gush abt your art >:o] I love your insert she's too spunky!! She looks so done w him LOL. Also your style is delightful and fun!! I love your habit of drawing ppl with tired eyes and no mouth. It speaks to me.

The “You look lonely” piece is gorgeous btw :) He’s so shinyyy,, Insert looks tireddd. I know it’s the meme format or whatevah but I would be too.

I hope you don’t mind me sharing screenshots? Just let me know :o) I’m abt to holler abt some sketches.

THESE!! These made me so soft oml. I know in my heart he feels like a Squishmallow or whatever those fat chibi stuffed animals are.

DRIP KINITO 🔥🔥🔥 I giggled. Also baseball Kinito is canon now. To me. I just KNOW he picks up random human sports and tries his darndest to play them with only two people. (Reader cheering him on and also looking thoroughly depressed is so real LMAO)

I think that's all I have in my heart for now... TY for this plethora of art you went above and beyond <3

BTW I’m gonna provide a pic of the players here for easy viewing cuz they’re cool as freak 💯🐊

EDIT: I am so glad!! You love my fic!! I heart U!!