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tathrin · 7 months ago

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The next story I am Definitely Not Writing: a fic where Legolas and Gimli make it all the way to the Undying Lands before they realize that in addition to loving each other more than anything else in all of Arda, they are also in love with one another (this is less a realization on their part and more an assumption that just about everyone else in Aman makes on sight, and eventually they hear about it and go oh...dang...maybe...? and Legolas's mom facepalms forever) and hey what if they got married, then...?

Only the thing is, while an elvish marriage is very simple and requires literally nothing but the folks involved deciding to do it (and no, Thranduil is not allowed to demand that Gimli fetch some priceless jewel from the Fëanorian section of Tirion in order to prove himself worthy of Legolas's hand, although he tried very very hard to convince everyone that it was a great idea) a dwarven marriage is an elaborate ceremony, requiring the participation of both a dwarven officiant and several members of one's kin to perform the various elements of the ceremony.

...all of which are in short supply in this land of elves and valar.

Except. well. there aren't any other dwarves in Aman...but what there is, is the guy who made the dwarves. And he is VERY fond of Gimli. So when he learns that Gimli is kind of moping about the fact that he can't marry Legolas in dwarven-fashion, Aulë ENTHUSIASTICALLY volunteers to be the officiant and to set everything up and arrange just the BEST DWARVEN WEDDING EVER...

Because, you know. he's never actually been to one?

Gimli is stricken with horrified shock to realize just how much his own Maker has missed out on interactions with his beloved dwarves over the years, and immediately agrees to this plan (even though he knows it won't be a real dwarven wedding without his family there; but he'll swim back to Middle-earth before he says one word about that anywhere that Mahal can hear! he is going to do everything in his power to make this the best wedding ever for the sake of his Maker, dammit!).

So he gets to work crafting all the necessary accoutrements (with enthusiastic help from Celebrimbor and all his other elf-smith friends that Gimli has acquired since coming to these shores which is, let's be honest, quite a few) and carefully teaching Legolas all the necessary Khuzdul phrases and ceremonial steps that they can do to mimic as much of a proper wedding as they can without anyone else to help...

And when the big day comes, Aulë is vibrating so hard he's on the verge of setting off seventeen different earthquakes across the island, and not even Yavanna can get him to relax. Gimli and Legolas arrive to the appointed place, and find that they aren't alone: Aulë has invited Celebrimbor, too, seeing as he's the only elf in Aman who has actually participated in a dwarven wedding before with makes him the local expert as well as the closest thing to "kin" that Gimli is going to find on these shores...except.

Well, Mandos might be in charge of elvish souls, but dwarves? They belong to their Maker. And if Mahal decides he wants to...well, who is going to stop him from waking some of them up early, before the breaking of the world? Especially if he doesn't ask permission first. So when Gimli and Legolas hesitantly walk into this foreboding stone chamber, eerily close to the Halls of Mandos, wondering wtf is going on and have they offended the valar somehow and are they in trouble and if so how bad is it...?

Well, turns out Gimli will have kin at his wedding after all.

Mahal can't bring any of them back to life, not without the intervention and permission of Eru and probably Mandos too; but as long as they're in his halls, he can wake anybody he wants. So soon there is a great crowd of bewildered but enthusiastic dwarves gathered around Gimli, as he tries to explain what the heck is going on to a whole passel of relatives and friends, some of whom died even before the Lonely Mountain was reclaimed and don't even know how the Battle of Five Armies ended, let alone the whole thing with the Ring and the Fellowship...

And Legolas and Celebrimbor are standing near the entrance watching fondly, Legolas weeping around a great big smile and Celebrimbor torn between joy for Gimli and his own ever-bitter sorrows and then...

"Khelebrrimbor?" calls a deep dwarven voice, in a thick Khuzdul accent, and Celebrimbor stiffens like he's just been shot.

Suddenly there's a ruckus as a very burly dwarf is shouldering through the crowd, and Celebrimbor stumbles forward and throws himself at Narvi with a wail, and it's at least ten minutes before anyone can get a coherent word out of either of them (although it takes considerably less time to catch the gist of Narvi's lecture about how dare you and lucky he's already dead, or I'd have a gift for him he wouldn't forget in a hurry and what were you thinking???).

Legolas gives Aulë a very pointed raise of his eyebrows, and Aulë shrugs around an unabashed grin. "Who in all the ages of the world is more of an expert on marriages between elves and dwarves than the two of them? I am a craftsman, Greenleaf; of course I would want to make use of their skills and experience in this endeavor. Nothing more to it than that."

Legolas hums noncommittally, but his eyes are dancing.

Mahal ignores him and steps forward to start the wedding. It takes even him three tries before he can shout loud enough to be heard over the tumult and get everyone's attention, but eventually he gets them all to quiet down enough for the ceremony to begin. Not everyone in attendance is entirely thrilled by the prospect of Gimli marrying an elf (that elf) but no one is so cross that they walk back into their dreams of stone to avoid it, which Gimli chalks up as a victory.

(Legolas's terrible Khuzdul pronunciation doesn't help, but the very enthusiastic way he praises Gimli when the ceremony reaches that point makes up for a lot. By the time he finally runs out of words, a few of the more recalcitrant attendees have changed their tune about him. The fact that he's so good at weaving the required braids doesn't hurt, either.)

There aren't nearly enough refreshments for a crowd that size afterwards, of course, since Gimli and Legolas weren't expecting anyone but themselves and Aulë to be there; but that doesn't much matter, because 90% of those in attendance don't have the sort of corporealness that would allow them to eat the dwarven delicacies that Gimli spent all morning fussing over anyway. (That doesn't stop some of his more elderly relatives from scolding him for not following their recipes better.) They're solid enough that you can hug them or kiss them, in the case of a certain former smithlord of Eregion or get half-knocked off your feet by their congratulatory backslaps, but they aren't alive. They're still the dreaming dead...it's just that for the moment, they're dreaming in a bit more wakefulness than usual.

In the end it's not what one would call an orthodox dwarven wedding, no; but it's a lot closer than Gimli thought he would get, and since he's hardly an orthodox dwarf, the small tweaks and oddities of their strange situation don't bother him in the slightest.

As for Aulë, he's never been happier.

And if it takes a long, long time for Celebrimbor to finally leave (and if he tries to devise a way to prop the door open on his way out)...well, Aulë is enjoying himself far too much to do anything but pretend not to notice. Even when Námo clears his throat at him very pointedly.

Twice.

And then again. And again.

"Aulë...!"

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thegnomelord · 1 year ago

Note

sof and cute hcs of eldritch reader trying to learn how to people (and maybe some raunchy ones about learning how human "mating" works) hhhhnnnngggh

Imagine Learning To Be Human

CW: SFW and NSFW First TF141 with SFW, then NSFW headcannons, sexting, masturbation, sex toys, morning after (no sex), sexual nudity, nonsexual nudity, implied poly141. GN reader, 500-900 words for each blurb, so somewhere around 5.5k words. Imma be quiet for the next week or so as I prepare for an exam so I'm feeding ya'll :Dd

Imagine SOAP— It's safe to say you're not the best with expressing what you think, especially not in this hollowed out corpse a tiny fraction of your consciousness inhabits. The more you try, the less human your attempts come out, only remembering that humans don't bend that way or don't do something after you've done it. You find yourself gravitating to Soap because he is the opposite of you, so open and responsive like an open book.

Imagine; observing Soap as he tries to piece together the fragments of a bomb, muttering curses under his breath as if the object had just called football 'soccer'. He's so concentrated he forgets the rest of the world exists, oblivious to you sitting across from him. But that's not a problem as it gives you a chance to watch and try to mimic what his face does; the slight hint of teeth as he nibbles on his lip, the furrow of his brows, the tenseness of his jaw pulling on his throat muscles…

You try to mimic every emotion he goes through as he tries and fails and succeeds and fails again to fit the pieces together like a jigsaw, but the hardest one to do is that smile of his. For some reason you just can't get it right, lips pulling back too far, teeth too much on display and brows too furrowed so you end up looking like an old savage.

Then as if to spite you, Soap looks up at you and immediately snorts. "What're yea doin' there Bonnie?" He coughingly laughs as your facial features return to your statue like state.

"Trying to look like you." You huff; at least you can do that correctly.

"Oh, look strapping don't I?" He snorts, doing what Ghost calls 'fishing for compliments' (though you're unsure how one can fish for abstract ideas).

"No more than the rest." You shrug and see him roll his eyes, though the corners of his lips are still quirked up, a hint of teeth on display and vestiges of dimples framing his mouth. "How do I do that?" You ask and motion to his face.

"Do what? Smile?" You snorts, already beckoning you over like you're a dog. "It's easy."

You lean across the table, tilting your head to indicate confusion but leaving your face a blank canvas. It takes all of your presence of mind not to give an earth shattering purr when his hands cup your jaw, distant stars quivering as his blunt nails scratch at your throat for a blissful second.

"Here," His thumbs settle at both corners of your lips, putting gentle pressure until he pushes the flesh back and up in a way that's natural to the skin suit but not you. "There yea go." He grins and pulls his thumbs away after a few moments, grinning when you hold the expression.

"Now yea're as dashing as me." He chuckles and you two must look like utter buffoons just grinning at one another; you wouldn't have it any other way.

Imagine GAZ — You're not exactly alive, technically you're the antithesis to life and existence, so to you, simple rules like eating or sleeping are no more than chalk guidelines after a rainstorm. Gaz doesn't subscribe to this idea, he's always trying to get you to indulge in these human comforts and you always allow him, even if it does include eating more things in a week than most of your kin have consumed in a millennia, if that.

Imagine; wandering the halls on a lazy Sunday morning, no drills to run or missions to prep for, and being drawn to the communal kitchen by the sound of boiling water and banding pans. You find Gaz cooking breakfast for the boys; he's the only one who can cook (according to him) seeing as Price seasons his food with hope, Ghost burns everything into coal and Soap's not allowed into the kitchen after he'd tried to make tea in the microwave (which Gaz had later asked you to exorcise).

"Mornin'." Kyle yawns and smiles at you, dressed in shorts and one of your 'lost' shirts. You do your best to replicate his expression. "Help me, yeah?" He asks and nods his head at what he's cooking.

Your expression falls back to neutral. "You'll need to show me how." You admit as you get next to him.

"Not a problem," He chuckles as he shifts behind you, pressing his chest flush with your back with his hands hovering over yours. You feel his warmth when he rests his head on your shoulder, his hands firm and steady as he shows you how to chop tomatoes and sausages, how to hold the knife correctly and pulling your fingers back when the blade draws too close to the flesh, talking you through it until you can do it on your own.

After that he leaves you to your task as he almost dances around the kitchen, stirring a pot here then putting the kettle on there and so many more little things while you remain where you are because you, by nature, are slow; to adapt, to age, to change.

But you do it for him.

"Those look great." He grins when you're done and then herds you in front of the cooking pans, and you're a little apprehensive about the bubbling oil when he dumps what you'd cut up into the pan. But his warmth is at your back again, steady hands guiding you on how to cook the food without burning your skin and leaving you to it when you catch on.

Then you feel a tug on your shirt, his presence once again next to you, but this time he's holding a piece of sausage on the end of a fork, a hand beneath it so it doesn't drop, "Hey, taste this for me."

You contemplate arguing you can't actually taste food the same way he does, but he gives you a look that has you letting him feed you. Though it tastes no different from everything else, from his hand it may as well be sweeter than ambrosia.

"Tastes good." The way he brightens up at your words makes the food only taste sweeter.

Imagine GHOST —You and him are similar in some ways, you both prefer to stick to what you know, who you know. It's harder for you to contain what you are inside your flesh body when there is so much life around you that every additional heartbeat pulls at the edge of your cold existence. So you stick to close to the people who's warmth has grown so familiar it's indistinguishable from the burning starts making up your real body.

Imagine; attending a celebration held by both TF141 and Los Vaqueros after a mission gone well, loud music and lewd lyrics blaring in your ears as men drink like teenagers at their first frat party. You're in a more secluded part of the bar next to Ghost, both of you nursing drinks while you watch the rest act like fools.

You're a little confused when you see Gaz and Soap move in a strange way, grinding against one another and pressed so close you'd think they're trying to mate, their hands roaming the other's body so roughly you're surprised no pieces of clothing come flying your way.

"Got a free show for my drink." Ghost chuckles next to you.

"What are they doing?" You finally ask when you can't contain your curiosity.

"Dancing." He answers and swallows the last inch of booze in his cup, setting it down on the bar. "For fun." He adds, already expecting the line of questioning, as if that's supposed to make you understand.

"They just look like they're trying to mate." You point out, receiving a long sigh in return.

"How 'bout I just show you." Before you can say anything he nicks the cup of untouched alcohol in your hand and swallows it all down in one go, putting the empty cup next to his before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you outside through the back entrance. You go along with him, but you're confused when you catch Soap's eyes and he wolf whistles at the two of you.

The world outside is calmer than the busy bar, the air much colder; closer to what you are. You turn to him once he lets you go, tilting your head and furrowing your brow to convey confusion. "So…what do I do?"

"Just follow my lead." A gravely chuckle escapes Simon as he closes the distance between you two, his rough hands settling on your waist as he begins to slowly rock both of your bodies along with the music, though his movements are more contained than what you'd seen, a steady push and pull compelling you to follow him.

"Why is this different than what Soap and Gaz were doing?" You ask, clutching his shoulders in return, your forehead almost resting on his chest as you look at your feet so you don't step on his toes.

You feel his chest vibrate as he chuckles, "They set a low bar." He rumbles and his hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up so you two lock eyes, the intensity in his brown irises drowning out the sounds of the bar. "Eyes on me."

You nod. Your eyes stay firmly on him as you sway together to a tune he hums, finding a common ground in the way your cold and his heat mixes together. Above you millions of your eyes peer down at him, for as vast as you are, for this moment your attention is on him.

Imagine PRICE — He can tell how tired you are, not physically but mentally; having to communicate and understand people without the use of a mental link, when even the most complex ideas can be conveyed easily, was starting to fray the edges of your control over your human body. He decided to do something about it.

Imagine; Price taking you and the boys fishing to a remote cabin next to a lake. Knowing you don't sleep he pulls you out by the lake at the ass crack of dawn, having you watch as he sits down on the dock, his pants pulled up to his knees so he can dip his feet in the water while he sets up the fishing rods.

"What are we doing?" You ask but follow his example and sit next to him, the cool water of the lake similar enough to the cold abyss your true body resides to calm your nerves, though you're unsure of what to do when he gives you the fishing rod.

"Fishing." He says as he shows you how to cast out the line. "You look like you need it."

You don't argue with him and just try focusing on fishing, letting him teach you how to watch the line to see when something takes the bait and when to reel it in. You’re unsuccessful your first few attempts, and you have half the mind to just jump in and wrangle the fish in the lake with liquid abyss, but he stops you.

"Catching isn't the point." He says as he smokes his cigar while he takes an old boot off your hook. "It's about relaxing, the fish are just a bonus."

You let out a low sound that vibrates the water, but you settle next to him and cast out the line again. You don’t know how long you sit there next to him, your sides touching with the fishing rod sitting loosely in your hands. After some time you manage to yank out your first fish, and you certainly don't gloat when you pull a few more fish out of the lake while he only pulls out seaweed, but the look of pride in his eyes makes it even better.

Any prospects of catching any more fish are dashed when Gaz and Soap wake up and take running jumps into the lake, scaring all the fish with their splashing. "Like school boys." Price remarks as Ghost comes up to you both, offering beers as he sits down on your other side.

"Summer vacation, captain." Ghost says and slips into the water, and you realize this is calming; in the way you haven't felt before, doing something familiar like watching Soap and Gaz trying to dunk each other in the water but feeling like you’re right there with them, laughing alongside them when Ghost scares the shit out of them by lunging out of the water.

“See sweetheart? ‘S not hard.” Price hums, adjusting his hat though his shoulders are already reddened from sunburns. He offers you his cigar and you accept it, breathing in the nicotine and smoke despite not having lungs or a circulatory system to be affected by it, before you give it back. “Taking it easy is good for you.”

You nod your head, content to sit next to him until something tugs on the line of your forgotten fishing rod and you scramble to reel it in. You give a small grunt as whatever is on the hook struggles, "Yank on it." Price tells you and you do, nearly toppling on your back when you finally win the tug of war. You blink as you look at what you've caught.

A Speedo.

"Well would you look at that." Price chuckles.

Judging by the way Johnny's suddenly bare assed and throwing obscenities in Gaelic your way, you assume that it's his.

“Caught a big one there.” Ghost notes, not yet laughing but his shoulders shake with silent laughter as he slaps Soap's cheeks (of his rear).

He yelps, confident enough to be naked in front of all of you, but not shameless enough to where his cheeks (on his face) don't redden from the way Gaz cackles and wheezes with laughter so loudly he nearly drowns. You give Johnny back his trunks before he can drown Gaz but, maybe you should fish any more.

NSFW:

Imagine SOAP— If anyone ever asks Soap why he would ever send a dick pick to an ancient god, he'll blame anything and everything; on being stood up, on loving himself a little less, on mixing up the numbers, in being black out drunk…

Imagine; him being stone cold sober when the thought invades his mind and he spends the next hour trying to take a good picture: in front of the mirror, on the bed, no clothes, some clothes, the list of positions goes on. He doesn't want to come across like he's compensating by just holding his dick in his hand like some cunt; as silly as it is, he wants the picture to actually tempt you, to make you feel something, though the question of if you even can doesn't cross his mind. He ends up with a picture of him on the bed, the tip of his hard cock peeking out from beneath the band of his boxers.

He won’t admit he holds his breath when he sends the suggestive picture to you alongside a ;) , watching the text bubble appear and disappear multiple times before you just leave him on seen. He deflates and has half the mind to delete the picture and chuck his phone to the other end of his bed but he’s stopped when he gets a message from Price.

‘My office. Now.’

Turns out you were with Price when you saw that photo and without a second thought had shown him it and asked what it meant. Granted Price had seen more than just his dick, but he was less than happy about Johnny sending you unsolicited dick pics.

You quiz Soap for nearly an hour, stone faced and unbothered while he gets redder with every question (what can you send, what not to send, how much to send, etc.) and he gets the impression that's how his ma' felt when she gave him and his sisters 'the talk'. “So, yeah.” He clears his throat, whole face feeling hot. “Don’t do it ‘lest yea’r asked or yea like ‘em.”

Thankfully Price finally lets you go when you’re satisfied with his answers and Soap can’t scamper fast enough out of his office with his whole face in flames.

He deletes the photo soon after but you've already burned it into your memory where it will outlast the stars, and the idea to reciprocate festers in your ageless mind like rot until you find yourself in front of your mirror after a shower. You play with the phone for a long time, snapping a few blurry close up shots of your face while you attempt to change it from the front to the back facing camera.

It takes even longer to figure out what to send as Soap wasn't that clear with his answers. Your siblings give you pointers, and first you attempt to take a picture of your most private part — bones snap as your rib cage splits open into a maw, vines full of eyes wrapping around your ribs like ivy as tendrils of darkness unwind just enough for the anti-light of your very essence sucks up all the light in the room — but the mirror cracks and your phone just shuts off with a pitiful whimper.

After fixing the mirror you end up doing what you do best; you mimic one of the statues you'd seen the Greeks make, the towel wrapped just along the V where your thighs connect to your pelvis, exposed from the waist up with your skin still wet. Your body isn't as demure as the muses that sculptor had used, but you hope Soap will appreciate it as you snap a few more photos and send them to Johnny with the same ;) he'd sent you.

Soap nearly chokes on his spit when he gets the photo, all the blood in his brain flooding south as his eyes rake over every exposed inch of skin, every curve and every dip in the muscles making him drool and cock harden and he's racing to your room before you even have the time to turn your phone off.

Imagine GAZ — For all of your pitfalls and misunderstandings he likes the little hints of inhumanity in your speech, in your mannerisms, in knowing you could be anywhere and anytime but you choose to be next to him. He couldn't imagine himself being enamored with an ant, yet you hang on his every word like he's revealing secrets you don't know, making him feel special; he feels so bad when his thoughts of you stop being innocent.

Imagine; He tries to keep things respectful, but his imagination runs wild when you do the simplest things. Bend down to tie your shoe? He's checking out your arse from the corner of his eyes. Stand behind him? He's suppressing a shiver just imagining your body draped over his in post-coital bliss. Check his skin for injuries? Gaz has to bite his lip to keep from begging you to touch all of him, to explore his body. Work out? Kyle's lucky if he doesn't start drooling imagining going over and licking the sweat off your skin, of feeling your muscles tense beneath his tongue while you continue to work out with him between your legs.

When he can't think of you without popping a boner he ends up having to compromise before the shame eats him whole. He goes on a random porn site; he usually prefers just using his imagination but when his mind keeps circling back to you he has no other option, and his conscience gnaws on him when he ends up finding a porn star with similar features to yours. It's not wrong if he's wanking off to a different person, right?

Heat's already burning in his stomach when he slouches in his chair, his back to his room and one earbud in his ear. Shame continues to eat at him when he's both delighted and disheartened by the fact the porn star sounds nothing like you, that his bones don't shiver like they do when you talk.

He keeps the volume low and instead focuses on rubbing and squeezing his cock the way the porn star does to a second actor, and he can't help imagining what you'd sound like; high pitched and whiny? Husky and low? Completely silent or animalistic? The idea of pulling sounds of pleasure out of your throat has him leaking. His head lolls back and he moans as he squeezes the base of his cock, his eyes open just enough to blur the fine details on the porn star's face so you two become indistinguishable.

His heart stops when you burst through his door, a random question leaving your lips before your ears pick up the moans and slick sounds coming from his direction. You're next to him in an instant, looming over his chair and caging him in with your eyes stuck to the screen. "What are you watching?"

"Get out!" He yelps and tries to push you away but it's like trying to move a mountain.

"Why does that human look like my vessel?" You persist, "And why are you watching humans mating when you told me it's wrong?" You tilt your head, luckily not seeing his hand on his hard cock, the porn reflecting in the blacks of your eyes.

“It’s on the net it’s different! People upload it for others' pleasure and-” He sputters and cuts himself off when he registers your words, freezing in place and that accidentally gets him to squeeze the head of his cock.

Your pupils widen like a cat’s when you hear the little moan escape his chest, your head automatically dropping down to see where his other hand is. "Oh,” is what comes out of your mouth when you see his hard weeping cock. “Can I?” You ask, making an odd motion with your head.

He thinks you're asking to leave and nods. "Yeah-" Gaz wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole, his cheeks burning red like he's a lobster in a pot. “-can you pl-please leave-”

He wheezes when your cold hand suddenly wraps around his cock, your hold firm and just at the edge of pain but still making him throb. A few more eyes spread across your skin to see him while you watch the video still playing on his computer, giving his cock a small pump and shaking the stars with your purr when he moans.

"What are-" He neck nearly snaps to look at you, a shiver raking his body and another moan escaping him as you squeeze the head of his cock, your skin like ice yet it makes him burn with arousal.

"Watch." You order and turn his head with your free hand so his eyes are back on the screen. You don't know why he's watching a fake 'you' mate when he could just ask you, but you know one thing; the person on the screen is competition, and by the way you roughly stroke his cock until he's whining and leaking like a tap, Gaz can tell— you don't like competition.

Imagine PRICE — He never imagined he'd need to have 'the talk' with a god; sure, you may understand how sex works, but you're hopeless in understanding the nuances of it all. If someone doesn't directly say 'let's fuck' you assume any touches from them, even groping, is just them being friendly. It makes his blood boil, seeing you be taken advantage of like that.

Imagine; You're in the bar with the boys and Price is a couple of drinks in when he sees being felt up by a stranger and you're oblivious to his advances. A green eyed monster nips at Price's heels and he doesn't notice when he puts himself next to you, 'accidentally' shoving the other guy back with just his bulk. His presence, his demeanor, and the few harsh words spoken in a clipped tone has the other guy scampering off.

He doesn't remember much after that, only the way you'd looked at him — with the intensity of a ravenous void, like he was a bright star you wanted to devour.

What wakes him isn't his clock, but the rays of sunlight gently streaming through the curtains. He groans as he registers the awful ache behind his eyes before he even has a chance to open them. He feels his bed shift and his eyes snap open automatically, he nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees you laying on your side as you stare at him.

"Jesus!" He jumps up, nearly topples over from the sudden vertigo but your steady hand on his shoulder keeps him upright, making him realize he's nude.

"He's not here." You shrug and as you sit up his sheets pool around your waist, making him realize you're naked from the waist up, though he doesn't want to think if you're naked naked. His fists clench when his eyes roam over your exposed body against his will, settling on the various hickeys decorating your shoulders and neck.

His heart sinks. "What…what happened last night?" He asks and doesn't want to know the answer, his stomach churns with shame.

"Oh, uh, you got drunk, I got you home, you started kissing and biting me." You say, tracing the numerous hickeys and indents of his teeth across your human form like they're medals. "Then you pulled me into your bed and wouldn't let me go. Then you passed out." You say as if nothing's wrong, and even if no sex happened it's little consolidation to the fact he took advantage of you.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” He asks as he takes a shaky breath, shoulders hunched up around his ears and eyes downcast, bile burning in his stomach.

"Why would I?" You tilt your head and shift positions to face him fully, the sheets falling away to reveal you are naked naked. "I may not understand you fully, but I would have stopped you if you did something I didn't want."

Price hates himself for how he can't tear his eyes away from your body. "But you let me." He insists and tries to get you to see reason, to be as angry and disgusted with him as he is with himself.

“Yes.” You are growing annoyed as well, silently cursing the frailty of the human mind; things would be easier to explain if you could just use mental communication… “You are less than insects to my kin.” You sigh and move to straddle him before he can get away, pinning him under you. “You are a sun to me.”

Even calling him a sun doesn’t do him justice; suns die out like firecrackers when your immeasurable body passes over them, when you devour them, him, you want to keep, to protect, to wrap in your cold abyss until he’s warm and safe.

He sucks in a breath, the gears in his head turning as he tries to understand. “What?-”

“Can I touch you?” You ask, your hands respectfully on your thighs as if you’re not pinning him in place with your weight. There’s a dark intelligence in your eyes, the same ravenous void staring at him behind the black of your eyes. You are not a child, you are a god.

"Why?" He sucks in a sharp breath as he breathes in your smell, the scent of dying stars and burn ozone tickling his lungs. "You don't have to." He says weakly, because what would anyone, god or not, want with him?

"You left marks on me, I want to do the same." The way you say it makes him think of godhood; not the bleak madness you are, but the type humanity romanticizes. Your lips part as if you're thinking of marking him, bits of oblivion staring back at him from the darkness of your throat when he looks too closely at your mouth.

He submits so fast. "C'mere then," He pulls you close by your head, kissing you like he's trying to steal your ichor, his body burning hot when your hands grip him tight enough to leave moon shaped bruises in his skin — the first of many you intend to give him, until you've marked him as yours and yours alone.

Imagine GHOST — Ghost prefers to show you rather than spend hours trying to explain things to you, he's more stricter with you when you try to do things you're told not to, both for your and everyone's safety. You never do quite learn.

Imagine; Ghost recently confiscated your phone when you tried to see what humans thought about you, or what they imagined you and your kin to be, on a website called 'Rule34'. Ghost had snatched the phone out of your hands before you could even click the link. After a week he gave you the go ahead to take it back, but got called to run a drill so just said to go find it.

Now, you've been told not to go rooting around other people's belongings, but while searching for your phone you'd fallen back into your old habit and snooped around until you found a small box in the bottom of his dresser. Thinking nothing of it you opened it and found…something. A lot of somethings; handcuffs, rope, weird egg shaped thing, a weird tube with a hole in it that squished like a stress toy but had a cunt molded at one end, but what drew your attention — was the dismembered black cock in the middle of the box.

You and all of your kin scratched your collective heads over the thing you now held in your hand, you'd been under the impression humans didn't carry around body parts anymore so you were stumped why Ghost had a dismembered dick and balls in his dresser. Besides the pitch black color and flat base it looked so realistic and the way it flopped when you turned it in your hand made you feel the same way humans did when seeing you.

So you got up and wen to ask Ghost about it, the thing held out in your hand when you found him with the rest of the boys. "Ghost, why do you a have body part in your closet?"

Your question made them all turn to look at you, Ghost made a strange sound like a strangled dog while Gaz and Soap fell over laughing and Price shielded his eyes with the rim of his hat.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” He snarls and before you know it he’s stomping over to you and dragging you by the front of your clothes, “What I tell you about snooping?”

“I couldn’t find my phone,” You try to argue but don’t struggle and just let him drag you somewhere like you're a kitten until you find yourself in his room with the door firmly locked behind him.

"Right." His tone makes it sound like he doesn't believe you, his rough hand pushes you down on his bed and he yanks the thing from your hold. “You want to know what this is for?” He asks and holds the the cock with the head pointed at you like a knife.

You nod your head and try to rise up but he pushes you back down, you're not even sure where he gets the handcuffs from but there's cold steel around your wrists before you can notice it. It's his order to "Sit and watch." that actually keeps you down, and you see the corners of his eyes shift to denote a smirk. "Do what you're good at."

You don't blink as you watch him disrobe until he's only wearing his mask, and your surprise is obvious when he sticks the thing on the floor and it stays up right. "This," He growls and sinks to his knees on the floor, a towel under him, "Is a fuckin' dildo." He reaches over and takes a small tube, squirting viscous liquid on his fingers. "You don't ever take it out of my room. Got it."

He leaves no room to argue and you rapidly nod your head. You find yourself breathless as you watch him reach behind himself and you don’t even notice how a bit of your oblivion leaks from your pores and spreads across the ground like spiderwebs, eyes blooming in the small pools all around him so you can see the way he roughly pushes a finger into himself, your hands clenching as his rim flutters around his large fingers.

"What is it for?" You find your voice, the sound ringing like the inside of a dead star the longer you watch him roughly stretch himself, pushing two then three fingers into his ass.

"Fun," He chuckles and feels so powerful when your eyes have all but turned black with hunger you've yet to notice. "It's a toy, for adults." He pulls his fingers out and squirts more liquid on the dildo, before sinking down on the toy in one fluid move that leaves him hissing at the stretch, his rim fluttering around the thick base.

Something about the way the toy is of a similar color to your real body has you wriggling beneath your human skin, the air vibrating as you groan and try to reach out to him, wanting to cover him in your body and have all of him feel all of you.

"No." Just one word has you sitting back on the bed like a dog, a pitiful sound rumbling across the void as you can do nothing but watch. "This is what you get for snooping." He's so smug with the way he has such control over you without even touching you, his thick thighs tensing as he slowly bounces on the dildo, "Now watch. Maybe if you're good I'll let you touch me."

You'll do whatever he says so long as you get to feel him.

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satvruu · 10 months ago

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ೀ how they hug you

rewritten and reposted of my hc set from my old blog @/star-puff! thank you to all my old dedications as well as my new ones @kurooppi @wyllsravengard for making my return to this fandom possible <3

feedback is very appreciated!

ft. yuuji, megumi, gojo, getou, nanami

itadori yuuji embraces you warmly, fondly, sunlight streaming through the window and scattering over your bare skin. it's someplace safe and comforting, enveloped in his arms like he's taken it upon himself to protect you from everything horrible in the world; he is your knight, he is your shield, your safe haven to escape to, no matter how many wounds he will endure in the process. ("yuuji," you whisper, a hand coming up to rest gently on his arm. he bleeds desperation. "i'm okay, i promise." yuuji squeezes you tighter, trembling, and you wonder what you can do to make it true for him, too.) he holds you for far too long for it to be anything casual, but you can't really complain about it anyway—it's better this than to witness the alternative. after all, what is the sun without a place to hold its warmth; what becomes of a hero when they fail to protect the things that matter most?

fushigurou megumi comes to you slow, steady, a ripple of water in the pond. you coax him out gently, holding your arms out before wrapping them around him. his breath hitches (always, no matter how many times he tries to hide it) and his body stiffens, arms frozen at his sides. but slowly, surely, your head buried in his chest, megumi's arms begin to wrap around you in a manner you can only describe as tender—as if you could break if he held onto you too tight. (truthfully, megumi thinks he's just afraid. the jujutsu world is a dangerous one, after all, even to those who only know of it by name. megumi has lost too many people, and you're the one person he can't afford to lose.) he flinches at the thought, pulling away. you draw yourself closer in him, instead. moonlight behind the clouds, you'd gladly hold onto this night forever if it meant megumi was by your side.

gojo satoru is known as many things—a child prodigy, the strongest, a boy-god making his presence known on the lowly earth, but to you, he is simply just obnoxious. satoru makes it a spectacle each time he sees you: hollering, gallivanting, draping himself over you with his long limbs and impossible-to-miss frame. you huff and complain and uselessly try to drag yourself away from him each time, but satoru hooks onto you and refuses to let you go, nuzzling his face into yours. (they're mine, the action screams, a blaring warning to anyone unfortunate enough to get caught in the collateral. you've been too caught up in your irritation of him to notice this, of course, and you're certainly not someone who would take the explicit meaning of it kindly, but satoru finds that he doesn't really care. not when he has more important things to attend to.) gojo satoru is many things, but the one thing he absolutely isn't is someone who can share.

getou suguru smells of sandalwood incense, a musky amber you think you could identify blind. sometimes, you think you remember a different suguru, a kinder suguru, one that had easier things to worry about, a brighter look in his eyes, an easier weight to his gait. if you think back far enough, you suppose it might have been because he had somebody else by his side to keep it that way, a brighter light shining next to him to keep the darkness at bay. (but that was a long time ago. now, suguru is the one left to be lit by the fire, stuck in the ashes of his own kin for a future little understand. you're not sure who is to blame for that anymore.) you're not the light that can save him—no one can be, not anymore. when suguru reaches out to you, rare vulnerability bubbling over in a way you can only describe as drowning—as crumbling—the only thing you can do is curl yourself next to him in the incense burner, smearing yourself in the ash.

nanami kento thinks you need this, especially after a long, hard day. the melting comes slow: his hands on your back, gentle pats and quiet whispers of comfort as he rests his chin on your head. and then comes everything else. his hands slot perfectly into the dip of your back, the small of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles over the fabric of your clothes, and in the eyes of no one but yourselves, the two of you begin to sway back and forth to a quiet melody nanami begins to hum. you cling onto the fabric of his shirt, trying to memorie the smell of his cologne, the rumble of his voice, the warmth of his arms. (it's too much, to have a memory of a future that will inevitably happen. you almost want to cry. don't go, you want to say, a lump in your throat, wishing for the impossible. don't go.) and still, selfish as you are, nanami hugs you like you're slow dancing in the dark.

#jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #getou x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #yuuji x reader #yuji x reader

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achaoticeternal · 1 year ago

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caught at a crossroads

prince regent!aemond targaryen x stark!reader

summary: while seeking safe passage down the Kingsroad to Dragonstone, you travels come to a halt. word count: 1.5k a/n: i would consider a part 2 if people are interested warnings: AFAB reader, mentions of violence and death

The journey thus far had been so silent with hardly any issues arising. Twelve men at your aid - six Stark men and six Queen's Guard - were ready to lay down their lives to safely deliver you to Dragonstone. After the eldest of Rhaenyra's sons came to call upon your brother in haste, an alliance was formed through the most sworn occasion. A marriage between the Queen's firstborn and Cregan Stark's only sister would tie your houses together.

Cregan and Rhaenyra had reached such a favorable outcome for the people whom they cared about most. Still, Cregan understood the dangers that came with swearing an oath to the Black council. If the Green's went North, he did not want you to fall into their capture. As such, an agreement was made that the young Lady Stark was welcome to reside on Dragonstone, within the sacred walls of House Targaryen.

Passage of the Kingsroad was a risk for anyone who dared to use. Miles of the path lived anarchic tribes that cared little for the proper laws of the land. With this in mind, the band of men were forged together to keep you safe from those on the road, and from those who would come to hear of the betrothal.

Already, your group had been riding for eight days, traveling south. They decided to avoid traversing the Westerlands, things swaying off the main road would do little to help if word ever got to King's Landing. It was better to take the faster route so that they could escort you quickly to proper safety. Instead, your path would take a slight risk. You would cross over the trident and pass through the villages on the outskirts of Harrenhal.

Harrenhal and its neighboring lands had become greatly abused during the war. The entirety of the Riverlands had been battered and bruised with forests of ash becoming more regular by the day. It was rumored that Prince Aemond Targaryen had laid siege to the region in reaction to the loss of his nephew, Jaehaerys. If you could lay low and stay away from the rotation of troops that came through the area, the remainder of your journey would be guaranteed safety.

At first, the ambush seemed to be nothing. Just a few bandits who were looking to start trouble. Yet when they drew blades of Valyrian steel, your guards had alerted you to seek cover. Metal crashed against metal, the sound echoing through the forest. Luckily, being a northern girl, you had some natural knack for survival. Swiping a jagged rock off the ground, you first hid behind the cart your band had been traveling in.

From the position, you could see how furiously your enemies brandished their swords. The experienced men of the King's Guard had no issue holding their own against the fierce warriors. However, the youngest of the Stark men was the first to meet his fate as a guard slashed his throat open. A broken cry had escaped past your lips, watching the body fall to the earth below. You had recognized him as kin to your dressing maid, a good boy, now dead.

As another Stark man fell, you took this as a warning sign to advance further into the woods. Gripping the stone, you slunk away from the makeshift camp and towards a mixed assortment of oak and evergreen trees. The candle in your lantern would soon be snuffed out by its own wax, but it did aid to light your path. Behind you, more men continued to fight and fall. However, huffs of aggression and assertion echoed towards your ears. The enemies were advancing.

"The scouts said there were thirteen," A voice barked out, "Find the last man. We must know what the Black's are planning."

Quickly, you moved behind the trunk of a large oak tree and immediately blew out your candle. There was just enough bush to keep you covered unless someone was searching intently or you gave any sign. If you stayed silent, maybe they would brush over you.

However, you heard the grunts of one of your guards, his gravely voice panting as you heard him being drug down the road, "Who is your final man? Where were you going?"

A low chuckle resounded from his chest, "Queen Rhaenyra's army is growing, and soon she will march on King's Landing and the Usurper."

As you went to peak upon the seen, you heard the sound of a sword being drawn and plunged through the guard's neck. Now all your guards were dead. You were alone in the Riverlands. Alone in the Riverlands with a two-day journey to Dragonstone ahead of you. If you could make it through the night.

Footsteps filled the area surrounding where you kept hidden. The width of the tree and the bush serve you well to keep you hidden in the dark of the night. With baited breath, you remained on edge, hoping they would soon give up.

"Ser Cole," A guard called out to his superior, "We have reason to believe the thirteenth traveler is a woman. If the raven from this morning is true, then I believe it could be-"

"I'll alert the prince," The other man replied shortly.

Nearly an hour passed with little disruption. Only the chittering of the forest kept you company. That was until a sinister voice echoed through the trees.

"Little wolf... Where are you hiding?"

So they were fully aware of who you were, but they still didn't know where you were hidden.

"C'mon, little wolf, if we don't catch you here, we certainly will before you are ever able to reach Dragonstone."

The voice held some familiarly to you. Though deeper and more confident, the rhythm and tone reminded you of just a few years ago. Your first and only visit to the Capitol.

It had been the King's 65th name day had approached and your father had decided that the three of you would all take the journey to King's Landing. While visiting, you had the honor of meeting the King's children from his second wife. His eldest son, Aegon, and his sister-wife, Haelena, the youngest, Daeron, and lastly, the owner of the current voice...

Prince Aemond Targaryen

"The hunter has become the prey it seems..." He called out to you once more, "It's been quite a few years, little wolf, won't you do me the honor of reuniting?"

Your heartbeat began to increase, hammering against your chest. Part of you feared that he could hear it pumping in your chest, or even the panting of your uneven breaths.

Silence returned to the wood, and you knew it might be your only opportunity to move until morning. As you moved to stand, a twig crunched beneath your boot. A moment later footsteps could be heard running in your direction. It was time to act, time to find a nice place to hide. Your feet carried you quickly and lightly through the forest floor, the feeling similar to chasing your brother through the Godswood as children. A feeling of hope grew in your chest...

Only to be crushed when a sword glinted in the moonlight. You came to a scathing halt as Aemond stepped out from behind one of the trees. His platinum hair and sapphire eye reflected bits of pale light as he observed your movements, "Ah... Lady Stark..."

"Prince Aemond," The lady quickly straightened her posture.

The man sheathed his sword as he approached the lone Stark lady, "Seems you haven't heard the news, it's Prince Regent, now. Though you would know that if you were where you belonged in Winterfell."

"I-" You attempted to stutter out.

"Yes?" Aemond smirked, knowing that he had you practically cornered, "Well, my lady, it seems you should come with me. It is dangerous for a Lady like yourself to be unaccompanied on the King's Road."

Aemond stepped forward which in turn caused you to take a step back. His smirk only remained at this behavior from you, the excitement of it all getting to him. Another step forward and he snatched one of your wrists in his large, callused hand. He tugged you forward to keep you close and minimize your attempts to run.

"I have a promise of safe passage, it's... it's a royal decree," You stuttered out as his glare only continued to intensify, "I have the right to go to my intended destination."

In an instant, his smirk fell quickly, "Your intended destination or your intended betrothed?"

Everything began to piece together as he continued, "That's right, my lady. I received word this morning that a dozen Stark men and traitors were seen along the Kingsroad escorting a young woman. This news arrived shortly after news about my Strong nephew's marriage approached, I simply connected the dots. But it's alright, little wolf, you are now a welcome guest at Harrenhal."

Your head shook at his words, "No, no, I-"

"It wasn't an invitation," Aemond quickly interjected as he pulled you closer, "By royal decree of Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen, you are my guest until I see fit to dismiss you."

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd #ewan mitchell #house targaryen #prince regent aemond #mattie writes

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astrolovecosmos · 4 months ago

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I went down a rabbit hole to learn about the asteroid Wolff (5674) and I'm low-key obsessed with this little obscure asteroid. I have struggled to find a lot of good information about this asteroid in astrological terms. So below is more of a theoretical take from what I've read, researched, and then speculation based on my own knowledge.

This asteroid is most known for signaling an affiliation with or love of wolves, dogs, and canines. Some other interpretations could be someone's survival instincts, the hunter archetype, a connection to animals, a wild side, being a lone wolf, maybe even painting a picture of belonging, such as belonging to a pack.

Find where this asteroid is in your chart by using a custom chart reader like astro.com has and inputting the asteroid number - 5674

Wolff in Aries: Has warrior-instinct and approaches their more animalistic side with bravery. Faces challenges head-on. Maybe gets carried away when competitive, angry, or even bored. Has a confrontational side. Is comfortable being the leader but even more comfortable with their sharp teeth.

Wolff in Taurus: May have a closeness to the earth, nature, and/or animals. This placement can highlight themes of resourcefulness, loyalty, and a strong connection to the senses. Can be influential to others and gain followers through patience and consistency.

Wolff in Gemini: A curious animal. They have a keen interest in exploring ideas, gathering info, and engaging in intellectual pursuits. May highlight a quick-thinking, sociable nature, with a talent for multitasking and connecting with others. Wolff in Gemini has a drive to express oneself, share knowledge, and remain flexible in thought and action.

Wolff in Cancer: Has primal instincts and intuition with a focus on nurturing and protecting others. Has a deep attachment and association with many "wolf" things such as the moon, moodiness or volatile emotions, strong loyalty and sense of tradition, and a focus on family or their kin - pack.

Wolff in Leo: Is filled with themes of pride, loyalty, and a natural ability to inspire or lead others with enthusiasm and warmth. Wants to stand out among their kin in a way that is seen as bold, benevolent, or worthy. Can have a fierce side and it doesn't take much to get in touch with their inner animal.

Wolff in Virgo: Can have a love and passion for the environment and health. They get in touch with the natural world in a highly practical way. May have a strong sense of duty to their "pack". Has a sharp, untamed intellect that seeks to perfect and refine with an almost obsessive drive. Can have an unyielding urge to dissect and improve everything.

Wolff in Libra: Has a deep drive for connection through nature. They understand a natural sort of harmony in life, people, the world via nature or animals. Is highly social and truly a "pack" animal. May manifest as a fierce desire for fairness and justice, pushing boundaries to achieve equilibrium in relationships and social interactions.

Wolff in Scorpio: Has an association with wolves through one of the animals the sign is compared to in their transformations. The fact that sea wolves exist and killer whales hunt a lot like wolves is a sign that water has a connection to the animal, along with the earth element which has a connection to all of nature. The primal instincts of Wolff in Scorpio are mysterious and powerful. This placement suggests a drive for uncovering hidden truths, navigating emotional depths, and embracing change on a profound level. The wild side of this placement might manifest as a relentless pursuit of power and control, particularly in areas of intimacy, psychology, or the occult.

Wolff in Sagittarius: Embodies a wild, adventurous spirit that seeks truth, freedom, and exploration. Could be extroverted or open about their inner wildness. Truly has a hunter's instinct. Wolff in Sagittarius can highlight a love for the unknown, a passion for philosophical or spiritual exploration, and a desire to break free from limitations. This placement encourages embracing the untamed aspects of life, driven by an insatiable curiosity.

Wolff in Capricorn: Can have a deep appreciation for nature. May want to protect or conserve nature or history. May manifest as an intense drive to conquer challenges and rise to positions of power, often through perseverance and strategic planning. Is patient and may have the "coldness" or "ruthlessness" of nature. Is all about endurance, impact, legacy, and tradition. Their wild side can exist in a highly tangible way somehow.

Wolff in Aquarius: This is a rebellious, unpredictable, and chaotic lone wolf. There's a potential for a radical approach to solving problems, embracing the future, and connecting with like-minded individuals in unique or unexpected ways. They can represent the follower and conformist as well as the leader or outsider and unconventional in our most basic human instincts. Their feral side may be strangely familiar or human.

Wolff in Pisces: Has a mystical, intuitive energy that connects deeply with emotions, dreams, and the unconscious. The wild side of Wolff in Pisces may manifest as a powerful drive to explore spiritual realms, embrace creativity, and dissolve boundaries between the self and the collective. Can find inspiration and/or wisdom in nature. This placement encourages embracing the unseen and the intangible, using imagination and feeling as guides through life's complexities.

More history on the asteroid here.

#asteroid #wolf #wolff #zodiac #astrology #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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writeyouin · 2 months ago

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Swerve X Reader – Quiz Night

Description: When Swerve is exploring Earth in his holoform, he finds a movie quiz where he meets you and quickly falls in love. Set in a Transformers Prime AU wherein Swerve went to Earth with the Autobots. LIGHT SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

A/N – Okay, so every fortnight, I go to my local cinema’s movie quiz and I’ve had this scenario in my head since I started going to that. I just wanted to write this for me to try and get back into writing on my days off from teaching.

Also, there is a Steve who wins every week. I am determined to beat him just once.

Warnings – MILD SMUT / NSFW.

Rating – M

Swerve looked around the small café, wringing his hands anxiously. He felt all too aware of his holoform, sure that any minute now, every human in the room would see him for what he really was and that his life would turn into a B-Movie wherein the FBI and CIA would chase him down, shooting everything they could at him until he was captured and tortured for information. And why not?

Something similar had happened to Bumblebee before he met Charlie. Why not Swerve too? Then again, the Autobots had a base on Earth now, and Swerve was confident in the use of his holoform… though this was the first time he’d tried it outside his hab-suite in the base.

Then there was the other thing. If Optimus knew that Swerve was wasting precious energon to maintain his holoform all because he just had to get out and see some humans up close- Well, sufficed to say, the big guy would be pissed.

But it was just one night. Surely, Swerve could justify that. Even Cinderella got one night out. Alright. For tonight he would be Cinder-Fella. Or at least he would be if he could find somewhere to sit.

Honestly, when Swerve jumped into the little cinema on the promenade, he hadn’t expected much, he’d just wanted to see it. Then, he headed upstairs and saw that they were setting up a movie quiz, and he just couldn’t resist entering. It was only a dollar to enter and he’d found the occasional bit of cash on the street, so why the hell not?

Yet, as Swerve looked around the café on the second floor, he realised that he was not a part of this community. There were several friend groups, most of who seemed to be regulars and who were riling up the other teams obviously used to the atmosphere, and there were no empty tables, just a few spare seats.

Gathering up his courage, Swerve loped towards your table, seeing that you were the only person on it.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here? I sorta came here on impulse and well- Y’know,” He gestured around at the lack of available tables.

“Oh, sure,” You said agreeably, putting your phone down. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Swerve,” He introduced himself, feeling less shy at your friendly demeanour.

“Huh, unusual name,” You commented, not unfriendly in tone.

“Oh, y-yeah. Unconventional parents.”

“So, no team, Swerve?” You asked, changing the subject to make him more comfortable.

“No, uh, first time. I didn’t even know there was a quiz till I got here. How about you?”

“I had a teammate but she just texted that she can’t make it. So, I guess I’m on my own tonight unless you wanna team up.”

Swerve stared blankly at you. He couldn’t believe that you were being so nice. Then again, you barely knew him. He was certain once you got to know him, you would find him as annoying as the other Autobots did.

Seeing his hesitation, you held up your hand kin a Scout’s promise, “I promise to share any prizes we win.”

Swerve felt his human obsession taking hold and his energon pump thrummed excitedly, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

When the quiz started, you thought you were good at movie trivia, but Swerve shot you out the water. He was even better than the quiz champion Steve, who generally won every week. The only thing Swerve seemed to struggle with was the years movies came out, though that was because Cybertronians measured time differently, and you did well enough at those, getting most right.

“Wow,” You chuckled at the first break between rounds. “You’re insanely good at this. You’re even beating Steve.”

“Steve?” Swerve asked, worried that he was someone you were interested in, even though he had no reasonable claim to be jealous.

“Yeah, he’s the old guy by the counter. He wins a lot, but he’s a good guy. Always shares his prizes. I think he’s just in it for the social aspect, y’know? A lot of people here are. It’s a nice little community. Plus, this is the only thing we have against the big cinema… There’s no heart in that place.”

“No kidding,” Swerve hummed, fascinated by you and your energy. “So, (Y/N), tell me about yourself.”

You smiled, thinking about how comfortable you felt around Swerve. He seemed like a nice guy. You filled him in on a few details of your day-to-day life. In return, he responded with a few facts about himself, though he was sometimes vague, unable to tell you the truth behind his Cybertronian life.

He told you that he was a scientist in a government base; this wasn’t a massive stretch from the truth since he was a metallurgist, using his skills to help the Autobots against the Decepticons, though he stayed far from any battles, generally being a house-mouse.

You were impressed with his work, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the high-status job. Then, the next round of the quiz began and the two of you were back on the same wavelength as teammates.

The quiz questions were set in a bingo card formation, giving everyone a fair shot at winning, so despite Swerve’s movie prowess the two of you didn’t win anything until the third round, wherein you were awarded two cinema tickets, free to use for any film.

At the end of the night, standing outside the cinema, you held the tickets out to Swerve, “Here, you can take these. You answered all the hard questions.”

“No, no. I can’t take them. I mean, it was your table and you helped a lot, and you come here all the time and I’m just-” Swerve began nervously babbling and you grinned, finding him cute.

You grabbed his hand, handing him one of the tickets, “Alright, fifty-fifty split. But hey, if you’re not doing anything next week, I was gonna come and see the seven O’clock showing of the new fantasy flick. You could join me for that if you wanted.”

Swerve nodded dumbly, thinking how warm your hands felt atop his.

“Great, it’s a date. See you then.”

You walked away with a bounce in your step. Meanwhile, Swerve stayed there, unable to move while he wondered whether you meant a date as in a real, romantic date or whether it was just a turn of phrase. Either way, for the rest of the week, he was quiet and distracted, unable to get you out of his processor.

When Swerve next snuck away from the base, using his holoform once again to meet you he fell in love. This was not the first time he had fallen in love, since he formed attachments quickly, but it was the hardest he had ever fallen, fascinated as he was by your world and species.

The two of you sat down to the film, and Swerve felt his brain freeze when you rested your head on his shoulder halfway through the film, grabbing his hand and entwining your fingers with his. It took him a few seconds before he stiffly let his cheek rest against your hair which was so, so soft.

“I had a really good time with you tonight,” You said quietly as the two of you filed out into the cool night air.

“Me too,” Swerve replied almost giddily as he drank in the sight of you.

You pulled a slip of paper from your pocket, offering it to Swerve, “Here, call me.”

Swerve unfolded the paper, finding your number with a little heart doodled next to it. He flushed red, becoming even more flustered when you pecked his cheek, lingering for a second before you said goodnight and left him there again. From there, you and Swerve went on several more dates, though he always avoided dinner dates, being unable to eat, and then things between the two of you got serious.

Swerve knew this was wrong. When you’d asked him back to your place, he should have said no. He should have never started any kind of relationship with you in the first place, but now things were getting serious and beneath all the excitement, he was ashamed of himself. What would you do if you knew who he really was? What he really was? Yet that didn’t stop him from sloppily kissing you, listening to you gasp when his erection pressed against your thigh. He was addicted to you and he was being selfish. Worse, as the intimacy built and you gave yourself to him completely, Swerve couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I love you,” repeating the phrase as he kissed your neck, and again when your body was pressed against his, and again as the two of you cuddled afterwards. He held your body against him during the night, stroking your exposed skin while you slept. He loved you. He loved the idea of a relationship with you. He loved that you had said the words back to him that very night. But ultimately, love wasn’t enough. Yes, he loved you in a million ways, but he couldn’t trust you. He wanted so badly to, but after he had betrayed your trust so thoughtlessly, he was too scared that if you found out what he was all of your love for him would evaporate. In the twilight hours, nearing early morning, Swerve received a communication from Prime, demanding his presence back at the base. Swerve sighed. First and foremost, all Cybertronians had a duty to their faction, and though Swerve wanted to put you first, he had to go back. If he stayed out any longer, he would have to explain his many long absences. He was a scientist and his duty was to the Autobots. He kissed the back of your shoulder, took a minute to find a paper and a pen, then left a note on his pillow stating that he wished he could stay but an emergency at work had come up. Then, glancing longingly at you before leaving, Swerve felt one last flush of shame and disgust at himself. No matter how much he loved you, he was using you to make himself feel better, and he knew he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t.

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #the lost light #transformers prime #TFP #transformers prime au #swerve #mtmte swerve #swerve x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

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Current brainrot is my Priest Yan Jeremiah and kind, innocent unintentionally a bit of a tease Angel Darling. TLDR for Jeremy here is he was fed God's flesh and started a cult, feasting on and gaining power from those who oppose his order aka angels who obey their fallen creator. Angel Darling has been off doing their own thing since shortly after the creation of humans and no clue what's happened these past centuries - probably off on some unmarked island taking care of animals they admired a bit more than humanity.

They eventually decide to catch up on what they've missed and seek someone in the new world to aid them - finding a strange human that gives off the faint essence of their master. Jeremiah figures they're going to make an attempt on his life like the rest of their kin, but can't because for Christ's sake can they put some damn clothes on before he runs a blade through them. The last time Angel Darling was around mortals there was no such thing. They're confused by his repulsion to their flesh. It's hardly any different from his. Jeremiah eventually realizes how lost they are and almost pities the creature. Since they're barely a threat he allowed them to live.

Angel Darling is so happy to have made a new "friend". They follow the homicidal priest like a puppy and asks him all the questions they have running through their feathery head. Apparently God entrusted the earth to him and they'd be wise to follow him as their traitorous kin refused to. Angel Darling believes him wholeheartedly - they just wish they didn't have to wear the robes he gave them. Human clothing is no different to being weighed down with chains to them. Mr. Priest does get rather red in the face when they remove them. Perhaps it makes him sick, but a lot of things they do make him flustered. They hear him calling their name in his office, but whenever they go to answer the door is locked and shouts at them to go away. Mr. Priest is so weird sometimes, but they love him dearly.

Jeremiah adores their obedience, but other aspects awaken urges he rarely had even in his mortal days. It's like he's a horny young adult all over again - something he missed out on the first time around. His Angel is so unaware they probably know nothing about such sin, but the way they bend over leads him to hope otherwise

Jeremiah: Good Lord, what on Earth are you wearing?

Angel Darling, wearing a sexy nun outfit: Huh? I thought this was typical for members of your faith. Do you not like it, Mr. Priest :(

Jeremiah: I do which is exactly the problem.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere blurb #yandere insert #male yandere #jeremiah my oc #yandere priest #yandere drabble

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aniihera · 5 months ago

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Ok. I’ve been compiling my thoughts on the pathologic 2 endings for a while now, and I’ve finally pinpointed my feelings on them (enough to share at least). I’m desperate to hear what others think about them too.

Lengthy Kin-themed rant oncoming? Perhaps.

More under the cut.

CW: Spoilers for Pathologic 2 (of course).

- - -

To preface: As I am Māori, not Buryat or of the other cultures I have heard the Kin to be based on, my perspective is more from *my* understanding of what it means to be Indigenous than anything else. There are probably many things I’m missing. But I’d like to throw in my two cents, however relevant they are.

Suffice to say, my feelings are complicated. Stylistically and narratively, there was a lot that I enjoyed. From a reconnecting/ mixed Indigenous perspective, however, I still feel unwillingly bisected, torn.

At the culmination of everything, Artemy Burakh and the player are roped into a cruel, two-pronged choice. Destroy the Polyhedron along with the miracles of the Steppe, or let the plague devour the town as you lead the Kin back to its heart. In these scenarios, you either assimilate the Kin into the town, which many of them will despise you for, or push out the nonindigenous townsfolk by force, letting nature run its course. Any third option has already been amputated, beyond your will. You cannot protect the Kin completely either way, some will likely die from the plague in the latter, and the more fantastical will in the first, by being cleaved from the earth’s dying magic.

Diurnal, or Nocturnal. No matter how you look at it, the kin cannot thrive in either. For it to be a choice at all, hurt, to say the least. After playing the bachelor’s route in the first game, I’m sure that was deliberate in an anti-utopian sense, perfection is impossible etc, etc. But the first lens I saw it through, stuck with me.

When I initially read Isidor say this after Artemy’s trial in the abattoir:

“Facing the Future is the way of Love. Facing the Past is the way of Love. But the two are incompatible, and it broke my heart.”

I was devastated. The hopeless dichotomisation of future and past… and I could only construe it as assimilation or death in some manner (but I could not see what role it took yet). That feeling festered for a while, but I wanted to see it from another angle. I think it's natural to be sensitive to the words “progress” (which is usually linked to “civilisation” and colonisation) when anchored against Indigenous culture, but I didn’t want that to blind me completely.

On its own, I do like this line. It’s weighty. And I think it articulates aspects of Indigenous struggle well, to some degree. Going back to the “past” is somewhat impossible for many reasons. Decolonisation is needed but I don’t believe it means restoring the “past” fully by any means. Culture is not stagnant, and neither is the future. To say they are incompatible though pains me. Especially when contextualised inside the divide between the kin and the town. It is an intentionally agonising line, and successfully so. Pitting the themes of Past/Future, against, Kin/Town, is something I find hard to reconcile with. Even just the first part irks me; personally the past walks with me at every step, the future is void and useless without it in full view. But I wouldn’t say a line from Isidor (or Artemy’s subconscious) necessarily defines the game more than it does his perspective. For me, it is the patterns that follow and precede it.

Aspity is a very obvious portrayal of what it looks like to “face the past” completely. Visiting her sanctuary, It becomes very evident that her opinions of the non-Kinfolk sway towards genocidal. They must “flood the town”, as she put it. Considering their treatment on the Bull Project and well… everything else, It’s not unfounded. During the night visits, we develop a growing understanding of what is at stake for the kin. Their language, legends, arts, and traditions, and too many Kin are dying from pest and persecution (Its a familiar story). Herb brides are forced to sell their cultural dance to get by (another familiar story for Māori, kapa haka and tourism, our culture has also become a commodity out of necessity). Legends like the shabnak adyr too are warped by the townsfolk (as it is used as an excuse to target Kin women). Assimilation means these things for them too.

There's also the case of how the Kin are depicted as more animalistic than the “more human” townsfolk. Oyun, Big Vlad, and even Artemy have a long history referring to them as such. To make the Kin less than human is inherently othering (as is any case where the empire views us as inherently more primitive or unevolved). The importance placed on Aurochs and being one with nature in Kin culture paints this in a less hostile light (Big Vlad’s view not so much). But I fear the effect this might have on player perceptions of the Kin will be negative regardless. I’ve seen a few statements about the Kin being a “hivemind”, I can't say I entirely agree. Many are divided on how they view Artemy, as well as what they desire for the future. I’ve also seen this in reference to when a few odonghe gift you organs for your tinctures, but at this point everyone in the town is desperate for a cure no matter the cost. Their more violent practices appear to weaken many fans' empathy for the Kin, painting the Nocturnal ending darker and darker. Getting rid of herb bride “marriages” would be a good thing at least right? Assimilation might be a good thing then? Nothing good comes without cost, and for the Kin this cost is too steep. Survival doesn't have to mean losing yourself piece by piece.

I will say that despite liking the non-Kin townsfolk, I do wish there was a larger Kin presence among the main roles. While we have Nara, Aspity, Oyun, and Taya, I understand how their presence does little to assuage the dread of seeing the rest of the cast wade out into the Steppe. For me, seeing Murky and Sticky in such a lost state during the Nocturnal ending, made me unable to see it as anything but a mistake.

Two other alternating themes are present through the endings. Childhood (miracles and dreams) and adulthood (waking up and walking forward). The dominant presence of children in Nocturnal, and the fact that walking through the near empty town really does feel like a nightmare, showcases this. The impossible has been made possible, the earth sleeps, sated. The endless cycle of responsibility, from father to son, from parent to child... Children rule the future here. In Diurnal, this cycle, at least, has some room to be broken. Responsibilities are weighed more evenly. Letting go of miracles and childhood dreams, that is the only future in this end. I’m not sure If i have to discuss how problematic it might be to place indigenous revival in the realm of childishness, and assimilation in the realm of growing up, but i thought i'd leave the notion there regardless.

Leaving how you view the two ends aside, it's obvious that Nocturnal has a heavier, gloomier tone.

Maybe having a third ending would’ve been reductive, to have one person so easily find a solution to unifying the town. But, it hurts so deeply to have that choice wrenched from your hands. The choice might have been severed by Isidor, but it felt like so much was possible for Artemy. With one foot in both worlds, the potential of true reconnection, i thought we could move past what was possible for his father. It felt like that was the direction Artemy was moving in, seeing the choices before him and bullheadedly trampling through the middle. Just like he did with the cure, finding the impossible connection.

As it stands, the endings are brutal. Survival for the kin is held by a thread, regardless of the direction you look. They either die a physical death, or a cultural and spiritual one (the two could very well be interpreted as present in both depending on how you look at it). By your conversations with Aspity, even if they survive, the Diurnal end is hinted to lead to an essential “dissolution” of the Kin as they know it. Wherein the differences between the Town and Kin will become so negligible that the two are no longer distinct. Which from my perspective is its own, however voiceless tragedy.

Ok, that was a lot of negativity but I’d like to be candid. Even despite all that, Pathologic is still one of my favourite games of all time. I saw someone say on here that Pathologic 2 is most interesting when allowing the player to decide where love takes them (even if they are led to extremes). Love being at the forefront, regardless of the choices you make, no wrong answers, that's what I appreciated most when playing as Artemy. Whether you chose to kill the three odonghe for Rubin, begged him to stay despite everything, killed Oyun, the Oglimskys, or the pest, it was for the love of something. The internal strife of having a mixed identity too, the rejection and affection from both sides, is something I related to even if the circumstances were miles apart from my own. I wish that Nocturnal aligned with that energy, that the nuances there were a little less stark. That opposing assimilation felt like less of a mistake.

There's a lot more I could delve into but this is pretty long already. This post could all read like nonsense/surface level, but I’m curious to see what other people think! Especially other indigenous folk, I’m dying to know how others interpreted the endings regarding the Kin.

#I'm sure there are definitely way more themes I haven't discussed/thought of #I’m also yet to finish Artemy and Claras routes in classic HD so my thoughts are obviously less contextualised #but i couldn't wait any longer #Ok I need to get back to my thesis now fr someone chastise me #pathologic #pathologic 2 #pathologic 2 endings #criticism #txt

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chernabogs · 6 months ago

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I saw in your tags for the scenario promts that you're accepting requests👀 How about “you will always follow the trail in the wood, and it will guide you on the same path, to the same cottage, the same witch. it will always be your undoing” with Yuu? or, if you don't write for them, “names are not like currency here; they are more precious than diamonds and legacies” with Malleus?

I'll give u both xoxo

The Woodcutter and The Prince

Inc: Malleus Draconia, Reader/Yuu, Sebek Zigvolt, Silver, Lilia Vanrouge, Grim Warnings: None for once LMAO WC: 4.3k Summary: A fairy tale of a woodcutter, a beast, three knights, and a lonely prince.

It feels appropriate to begin the story with ‘once upon a time,’ the token element, as that’s what all tales of magic and monsters begin with.

So, once upon a time, there was a woodcutter.

You, or Yuu, as many called you, were somewhat of a respectable member of your village. As one of the few people who was brave enough to go trekking into the darkened woods beyond the boundaries for the needs of the villagers, they often turned to you for aid when times grew dire, and winter began its inevitable descent. You had grown up in these woods. You had seen many of the things that the shadows and the soil had to offer, and so you had come to settle into this life alone, becoming quite content in your role as a provider.

One day, when you are deep within the bowels of nature that never seemed sated, the sharp blade of your axe biting into an oak as you sought to fill your quota, a great beast steps onto the path before you. Fire laps in its ears, and it has a tail like a trident, which twitches and sways in irritation. It holds its head low to meet your gaze, and it’s with that stare that you find your arm stilling, the axe soon held limply by your side. When you cease your cutting, the beast gives a low rumble from within its chest before speaking.

“Woodcutter, there is a beast in this forest that cannot stop devouring. If you can satisfy him, you will be rewarded.”

You take a wary step back then, your gaze uncertain as you observed the power rippling beneath the great cat's skin. Its toothy smile contrasts the softer tone it uses to share with you its plea. Yet, despite all these aspects, you feel no malice in its presence. So you heft your axe onto your shoulder and fix the beast with a frown.

“How can I be of help? I come out here to cut the woods, not satisfy the monsters they house.”

The beast's tail flicks again as it settles on its haunches. Reptile-like claws dig into the soil of the earth as a shuddering sigh leaves its form. “The beast is a prince who, despite having all the possessions in the world, still carries an emptiness in his core. He is guarded by three knights who let him do as he pleases. Open their eyes, and your reward shall be even greater.”

“How can I even find this prince, or beast, or whatever he may be? The woods are so grand you can hardly expect me to know every corner.” You gesture to the thick trunks and towering leaves around you. “I know only what is close to my home, as that’s all I’ve ever needed. These woods have been more than giving.”

“You know where he is already. You have walked that path before—though you may need to dig into your dreams to see it. You will always follow the trail in the woods, and it will guide you on the same path, to the same cottage, the same beast. It will always be your undoing—or, in this case, his.” The beast smiles a great grin that showed its many rows of shard-like teeth. “Do you not love your home? Do you not love your kin? If you leave him be, he will come upon your doorsteps in time like a starving wraith. He will claw his way into your homes and feed you sweet dreams until you rot to dust in your beds. Then, he will simply move on.”

“He sounds horrid,” you sputter, your grip on the axe tightening. The beast nods.

“In a sense, he is. But even the most horrid can change with the right prompting. So tell me—are you good at carving?”

You find your curiosity soon outweighing your fright over the beast and the tales that he spins. His warnings of what will happen to your home, should this prince be left unchecked, sends shivers up your spine and you find yourself nodding at his words. The beast almost looks satisfied as he rises again with another rumbling purr. He slips back into the brush that he emerged from, the foliage swallowing his form, until all that is left for you to see is a pair of burning blue eyes.

“Good luck, woodcutter. The forest now rests in your hands.”

And with that, he leaves you alone once more, with nothing more than an axe and a marred tree as your companions.

________________________

You do not remember your dreams very well. You never have, even in your youth. They seem to dissipate out of your mind as soon as you wake, leaving you grasping at the vaguest of visions to piece together what tapestry your mind wove. Still, your feet carry you forward into the woods with sure steps, the axe still held on your shoulder as you walk. It feels as though you travelled for many hours until you came upon the first of the three the beast warned you of—a man with green hair, and armour of iron.

“Today, we will enter the valley,” the man declares, unaware of your presence at the edges of the meadow, “and my prince shall find his companionship there.”

You watch on as the knight looks back along the path, as though expecting someone else, before he moves to a stream close to your hiding position. You lower yourself closer to the twigs and branches below before clearing your throat to speak in a low murmur.

“Fine knight,” you coo, throwing your voice to make it sound far different than it is, “do you truly intend to let your prince enter the valley?”

The green knight stands sharply, his hand touching his sword hilt as his eyes flash with anger. “Who goes there?” He demands, his voice like a booming of thunder across the meadow. You remain concealed as you speak again.

“Fine knight, do you truly think your prince will find a companion in the valley? What will he do if he does not? He will become more despondent, more enraged, and he will pull you into a dreamless sleep as he has so many others. Will you let him do that?” Your nails tap the handle of your axe as you watch the knight's expression. “Will you let him steal your dreams too?”

The knight doesn’t seem too fond of the idea as he stands by the stream, a conflicted look upon his face. His hand clenches and unclenches on his sword hilt before he looks back to the path once more. “I do not wish… to see my prince despondent anymore,” he murmurs, his voice now less fierce than before.

“Then find me a piece of yew and bring it to where your prince lay. I shall make it so that he may never feel alone again.” You urge. The knight seems uncertain still.

“Who are you? How can I trust you?” He demands again. You hum quietly from your hiding place.

“I am Yuu, and I swear that I will not lay a hand on your prince. If I do, you may guide the waters that fill this stream to fill my lungs instead.”

Well, this satisfies the knight, and with a huff and a nod he goes stomping into the forest to search for a yew tree. Once he’s gone, you creep out of your hiding place to continue down the path from your dream, pleased that the first obstacle is now done.

________________________

You find yourself disheartened as the walk carries on and the sun creeps further across the sky. It was dawn when you began, and now it is midday. Still, your mind remains focused as the beast's warnings play over, allowing you to be alert enough to hear humming before the figure emerges. The second knight is a creature in himself—a fae, wearing the clothes of a travelling merchant instead of the armour the first knight adorned.

He does not give you a chance to hide. His red eyes are locking with yours before you can even move, and the grin he offers shows a pair of brilliant white canines in his mouth. “Fine day, is it not?”

You pause, your axe on your shoulder as you open your mouth to respond before falling silent again. The knight and you observe each other for a moment before he speaks once more. “What brings you so deep in these woods? You are of the valley.”

“I am.” You answer deftly as you squeeze your axe handle again. “I am here to complete a task.”

“And what task might bring a woodcutter out here?” The knight prompts, taking a seat on a nearby stump to prop his chin in his hands. His smile does not waver as he watches you, and you know that trying to lie about your purpose to him will be a folly on your end.

“Do you truly intend to let your prince enter the valley?” You instead ask, lowering your axe as you shift your weight on your feet. The knight raises one dark eyebrow.

“Why should we not?” He replies easily. “He is our prince, after all. He wishes to find companionship, among others.”

“But dearest knight, do you truly think your prince will find a companion in the valley? What will he do if he does not? He will become more despondent, more enraged, and he will pull you into a dreamless sleep as he has so many others. Will you let him do that?” Your nails tap the handle of your axe as you watch the knight's expression. “Will you let him steal your dreams too?”

“I have no dreams left to steal!” The knight laughs as he leans back on the stump. “My nights are as empty as an abyss.”

“Then what of the others? When he steals away dreams and leaves everyone asleep, he will simply move on to another village. He will still be utterly alone. Do you wish to see him like that?” You pause to gesture to the silent woods around you. “Will you let him continue to hurt as well?”

The knight seems less fond of this idea as his smile wavers. Perhaps you are misjudging it, but this knight has an almost fatherly look about him when it comes to matters regarding his prince. His black nails tap his leg before speaking. “What do you offer him in turn, then?”

“Find me a smooth carving stone and bring it to where your prince lay. I shall make it so that he may never feel alone again.” You urge. The knight tilts his head in consideration.

“Who are you, and how can I trust you?” He muses. “We take great offence to lies, you know.”

“I am Yuu, and I swear that I will not lay a hand on your prince. If I do, you may urge the roots that tether these trees to tether my body instead.”

Well, this satisfies the knight, who rises from the stump with a soft laugh before stepping towards you. He touches your arm lightly and looks up at you with a mischievous grin, which does little to hide the wariness in his eyes. “Be kind to him, hm?”

Once he’s gone, you hoist your axe back upon your shoulder and continue down the path, the knights parting words now playing alongside the beasts in your mind.

________________________

Once more, you become disheartened as the midday sun soon shifts onto afternoon. You thought you’d find the prince faster and perhaps bypass the final knight, but it doesn’t seem that the world is willing to give you this break. When you come across the third obstacle, you do not see him as much as you do trip over his form. A stuttered gasp passes your lips as you regain your footing before looking down, where a pair of aurelian eyes are blearily looking up at you.

“Hm?” Languidly, the third knight sits up from his position beneath the tree. His silver hair nearly blinds you in the sunlight, but this still doesn’t stop you from seeing the peculiar army of animals hovering around his form. Squirrels, chipmunks, birds—it’s as though the entire forest rests by his side. “Who might you be?”

“Yuu.” You answer immediately, blinking your confusion away as you shift to face the odd man. He seems unbothered by both your presence and your axe as he remains sitting on the forest floor. “Are you… a knight?”

“Mhm.” The man hums back as he rubs his eyes before rising to his feet. The act sends the animals scurrying away in a tizzy as his attention drifts to you. “Are you in need of aid? You’re quite far from where the village lay in the valley.”

“I’m on a quest of sorts.” You watch the animals hovering on the edge of the treeline in interest before looking back to the knight. Despite his sleepy gait, there’s an alertness in his eyes that warns you off from trying any form of deception. “Do you intend to let your prince enter the valley?”

The silver knight looks surprised for a moment before he crosses his arms, a frown touching his lips. “... if he wishes to, yes.”

“But do you wish him to, knowing all that he will do if his desires fall through?” You decide a more honest conversation is best with this knight, who seems apprehensive of the plan to begin with. The silver knight looks past you to the pathway beyond for a moment before exhaling a soft sigh.

“I do not wish to see him hurt. I care for him dearly, for he is family to me, but…” the knight trails off, leaving you to pick up his sentence. “I also do not wish to see him so alone anymore. My father, my friend, and I—we have always been here for him, but he seems unable to see that.”

His father and his friend must have been the other two knights. You brave a step closer to the silver knight. “Do you think your prince will find a companion in the valley? What will he do if he does not? He will become more despondent, more enraged, and he will pull you into a dreamless sleep as he has so many others. Will you let him do that?”

“I can travel in dreams, so it is of no worry to me. But my father and my friend cannot.” The silver knight seems torn for a moment, standing on the precipice of loyalty and love, before his brilliant gaze looks to you again. “What are you offering, Yuu?”

“Find me clay—primed for creating—and bring it to where your prince lay. I shall make it so that he may never feel alone again.” You promise. He looks unsure for a moment.

“How can I trust you?” He asks, his voice soft and full of genuine concern.

“I swear that I will not lay a hand on your prince. If I do, you may take the stones that lay on this forest floor and lay them upon my body instead.”

Well, this satisfies the knight, who nods his head somberly before turning away. A wave of his hand sends the birds fluttering, the squirrels skittering, and many of the animals into a frenzy as he steps into the woods. You watch him until he vanishes before turning back to the path.

___________________________________

When the sun dips below the horizon and the sky above the woods is a blaze of golds and reds, that is when you see the home where the prince resides.

True to the beast's words, it is not a grand palace you encounter, but a cottage nestled deep within the woods. A garden surrounds the home, which is built of stone and oak, and a fence guards the path to the front door. You push it open with some trepidation before following the stones to the entrance. A part of you seeks to take your axe within, but another part protests, leaving you to set it aside instead.

The door gives in to your push with little protest. When you pass through the threshold, you are enveloped in a warmth that seems unnatural, making your skin prickle beneath the wool clothing that keeps you safe in the woods. You tug on your collar as you look around the room—carvings and trinkets decorate the space, each one hand-crafted by someone who resides here.

And this is when your gaze comes to rest on him.

He’s observing you as you observe the space. He is a tall man—of this you can tell, even from where he sits—with sharp green eyes and dark lips which are twisted into a frown. Two black horns rise from his head into sharpened points, which are where your eyes go to immediately even as he speaks.

“Yuu.” Your name rolls off his tongue with such ease that it sends a chill down your spine. You look at him in surprise, wondering how he knows your name already, which he then goes to answer with his next few words. “Names are not like currency here; they are more precious than diamonds and legacies. You give yours far too freely to expect it not to spread.”

“Was it your knights?” You query as you move closer, drawing a chair out to sit across from him. The act momentarily surprises him as his expression shifts. This is a victory you take. “They all asked me for my name before I passed.”

“No, not the knights. Nature is a most noisy companion. Every breeze, every leaf, and every insect are buzzing about your venture. Dearest woodcutter, what is it that you seek from me?” The words are spoken with an undercurrent of distrust as the prince’s lip curls, showing teeth similar to those of the second knight. You take note of his pointed ears as well. A fae—not a monster like the beast said. Not even close, in fact. The guardedness in his gaze is not born of hostility. “You left your axe outside.”

“I haven’t used it at all on my walk. And I seek nothing more than a conversation.” You lean back in your chair as you glance out the nearby window. This position will let you see when the three knights make their return.

“You do not seek congenial conversation. I sense an interrogation is on the horizon.” He gives a harsh scoff as he crosses his arms. The temperature in the room seems to rise with his frustrations. “What is it you want, woodcutter?”

“Are you going to the valley?” You bend to his demands and ask your questions as you meet his eye again. There is no cowering or simpering in your seat—you match his gaze steadfast with your own resilience.

“What if I am?” He counters with all the haughtiness a young prince may possess. The act makes him seem more human and prompts a quirk of amusement in your lips.

“What is it you desire?”

“Why does what I desire concern you?”

“Because I have been warned of what may happen if you cannot find it.” A moment of silence passes at your statement as the prince’s stubbornness remains. Then he sneers.

“Did the beast offer you a prize? Is that what you want? A pretty reward for stopping me?” He hisses. You consider his words carefully. At first you did want a reward, in addition to aiding your fellow villagers. The three knights you’ve met have altered this perception, however. The first one with his unwavering loyalty showed you what the prince could be. The second one with his paternal concern showed you what the prince has been. The third knight with his uninhibited care to both the prince and his family showed you what the prince is.

This is not a monster. This is a man in a cottage who has, in some way, been put in a role he isn’t sure he wants to fulfill. He has fallen into content monotony—precisely like you.

So you shake your head because you know this is the truthful thing to do. “I did want the reward, but not anymore. I would rather talk to you for a while.”

Another flash of surprise sparks another twinge of victory in your chest as the prince leans back in his seat. “... talk to me?”

“Mhm.” You gesture to the room. “Did you make these?”

“I?” The prince then looks around as well, as though noticing the carvings himself for the first time, before clearing his throat. “Some, yes. Others were aided by my knights. It is somewhat of a stress reliever for us.”

“They are quite nice.” You praise, which eases the tension in his body a little more, opening the opportunity for more. “How did you get into such a hobby?”

________________________

When the three knights return, night has fallen, and you have managed to coax the fearsome prince into quite the drawn-out conversation. You note that he becomes far more vibrant in his speech when speaking of things he’s passionate about, to the point that he hardly notices the three knights nudging open the door until you pause the conversation yourself.

“Hello again.” You greet them, noting the materials they carry in their arms. The green knight seems guarded still as he looks between you and the prince, while the other two knights merely offer brief, knowing smiles before setting the materials on the counter.

A piece of yew, a stone, and an excess of clay held in a makeshift bucket. The prince’s eagerness is replaced by curiosity as he leans forward to stare at the items.

“Did you go foraging?” He asks the second knight incredulously. A tittering laugh is his response as the knight drifts to your side.

“Lilia.” Malleus shoots back with a narrowed gaze, which only prompts Lilia’s entertainment over this matter further. “You, Silver, and Sebek are all obliging to a woodcutters orders, hm?”

“Well, Yuu. You’ve seemed to have made yourself quite at home here,” he muses, the amusement never leaving him as glances at the prince. “Malleus, to not have even offered our guest a drink. Have I taught you nothing?"

A wave of his hand has a steaming mug of... something, appear before you. You eye it for a moment before lightly taking the mugs handle. You don'r drink it, though.

“Oh, our dear Yuu was persuasive. They told me I could feed them to trees, told Sebek he could feed them to the river, and told Silver he could stone them if they put a hand on you—so we were not overly concerned.” Lilia pinches your arm lightly before looking at the supplies you asked. “I wager I have an idea of what these were gathered for, but please Yuu, do enlighten us.”

“Well, it’s far too late to do anything now—at least for me,” you quickly add as you glance at the quartet, “but I understand, Prince Malleus, that it’s companionship you’re seeking?”

Malleus seems slightly displeased at your read of him as he glowers at you—a sharp contrast from his previous joy. It’s Silver’s light nudging to his arm that finally draws a curt nod out of the prince.

“I know it may not be apparent to you, but companionship is already something that you have. Are you not accompanied by people who care for you in your daily life already?” You gesture to the three knights before continuing your points. “It may be hard to hear but promises of dreams and endless sleep are not ways to earn more people by your side. I began this thinking I was hunting a monster, but now I sit here across from you knowing that you and I are more alike than we think.”

Malleus seems ready to speak, but you shake your head, which causes his mouth to close once more. You then point to the items that the knights collected. “Each of those items are capable of being crafted and changed in some manner. What tools would you use for them, Malleus?”

“A blade for wood, a chisel for stone, and my hands for the clay.” Malleus answers immediately.

“Those are all tools you have on hand. Tools that can allow you to craft wonderful things if used right and if taught correctly.” You then look back to the prince. “Speaking with your knights has shown me that you are someone worthy of being cared for, of being around. You don’t need to go storming into villages—you have tools to earn their care. You just need someone to show you how to use them.”

You then sink back in your chair with a sigh. “I’m just a woodcutter, yes, but I’m also someone who knows my village well. If you let me, I can introduce you to them—without the sleep part.”

A pause fills the room as Malleus seems to consider your offer. The three knights remain silent near the door, but you can see by the looks being exchanged and the shifting on their feet that they, too, are hoping he concurs.

“... you give a rather valiant speech.” Malleus finally hums as his fingers go to touch his chin thoughtfully. “If you are willing, then perhaps… yes. I think I would quite like that, dearest woodcutter.”

If the room could heave a collective sigh, you’re sure that it would as you rest your elbows on the table with a small laugh. You do not know what the beast’s reward was meant to be, and the curiosity about it fades as you offer the cautious prince a reassuring smile.

You haven’t the heart to tell the man that you’ve never carved a single thing in your life, and that your entire speech was winged on the spot—but that’s an issue for another day.

#twst #twst fanfiction #twst yuu #twst mc #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #twst silver #lilia vanrouge

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guiltycorp · 16 days ago

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Okay finished the Haruspex route of Pathologic Classic! I need to play Clara's route to see the whole picture but I'm already fascinated by the differences between P1 and P2 in terms of characterization. I think I like Pathologic 2 even more now considering how they improved on Artemy's route, I am sorry to say I didn't like it at all in classic... This is all just my personal impression after first playthrough ofc. Ramblings about both Artemy and Daniil ↓ I think what bothered me about Haruspex was mostly just his attitude and his messiah plot. Once the first day is out of the way it's all smooth sailing for him, a bit too much so?? The only personal conflict he has is figuring out his father's exact wishes for him and choosing a sacrifice. Killing anyone is treated as fair or something that needed to happen and the Haruspex is always shrugging it off... And either option, Aglaya & the Town or Polyhedron... It just doesn't seem like he is that attached to either? So it doesn't feel like he is sacrificing much personally? Like sure he wants to save the Town because of his messianic qualities, but that's again more about fulfilling his 'role' rather than genuinely wanting to save lives, or at least it read that way to me. I'm sure it's meant to be both and P2 makes this far more apparent, but in P1 it elicited a rather squinty reaction from me. Plus well yeah, getting rid of Polyhedron is pretty much just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, like yep he sure didn't care about that thing lmao so getting rid of it isn't such a difficult choice at all. The suggestion that the Polyhedron could be his Udurgh is kind of useless because the Town and Earth are far better candidates and fit with Kin beliefs better, which in this game Artemy pretty much doesn't doubt at all. Maybe this is why the Bachelor is so present in his route? Daniil did say he'd commit suicide if he lost, maybe we'd want to think twice about pushing him towards it... But again! Does it seem like this guy cares ahhh haha... The dialogue option that is actually engaging with what Daniil said is pretty much there to make it clear to the player what the Utopian ending is and what it would be like.

Ngl at first I thought he was meant to be the 'sacrifice' until they said it's a woman. Every time Artemy learned something about the Bachelor's motivations he'd write down in his diary like '...if it matters' since the player can always choose what ending to go with I guess. I also find it curious that he can say that they are friends but still always writing only 'the Bachelor' in his diaries while Daniil switched to 'Artemy' and 'Burakh' during the final stretch. The one-sided yaoi................ 🤔 At least Artemy doesn't get mad at him for ordering to set the mythic bull on fire, I guess their friendship did mean something to him after all at that point. Also when Capella tells him that he should ask the Bachelor for help with getting into the Polyhedron since the Bachelor 'fawns upon you a lot anyway' the Haruspex just goes 'oh yeah! ok' fjdghdjg... Now that I think about it I DID like the Haruspex route for what it did with the Bachelor hahah, his dialogues and letters are just so good sometimes. Like wow, I felt this.

Very cool, if i was Artemy I'd totally abandon my weird murderous calling for this. Tangentially related... P2 had one moment that I remember from my last replay when Rubin, if kept alive, falls into a deep deserved sleep in his home, and Artemy just starts emotionally monologuing at him.

Like, P1 Artemy would never, but also it goes to show that he's still very much a repressed man here too, buying into toxic masculinity ideals who can't just talk to his friends about his feelings directly... The same character, but more complex. I want to make it clear that I DO like him and his motivations in P2 actually, and his personal conflict being more about the future of the Kin makes that game much more powerful to me than what his classic route was. I heard that initially he was planned to be far more violent and dark, so maybe he could have been sort of a villain protagonist and this was changed later and this is why it feels a bit bland? Hmm... Idk this is fun to me because meanwhile the Bachelor didn't feel that different to me in both games lmao. A highly stressed educated guy who is just trying to prevent the spread of epidemic the 'right' way and then clinging to the only chance he has left to preserve both his ideals and his life. He is a bit less polite in P2 at first (while still very much helping by warding off Rubin) but then rather quickly becomes more cordial to Artemy and vice versa (and wow it sure is nice when Artemy can actually be polite and friendly..). And the moment when he explains some of his personal deal to Artemy feels rather similar in both iterations mood-wise.

I liked his route in P1 a lot, surprisingly so, and I now understand why so many people liked him before P2 came out and afterwards too... There's just something very real about how he is the intelligent Capital doctor but with an extraordinary dream to combat death itself, possibly given to him by the Powers That Be due to these children trying to cope with people dying around them. And instead of favoring him for it they hate him! They leave him with nothing but this final chance to fix things, even if that means destroying everything and rebuilding anew. Daniil's desperation feels very real and thus more compelling, plus like... I mean it's pretty much confirmed that it's not just the Polyhedron and that the soil itself is 'rotten' (literally in the meta real world and through blood beneath the earth in the Town itself) and the decease could return again, sooo his ending doesn't look that bad comparatively. I also appreciated how Maria (or uhh was it Nina talking through her here as well?) explained how their Utopia doesn't actually mean a 'perfect' place, more so just an impossible dream.

The Bachelor doesn't mind this at all, a detail I loved.

...Hmm that said maybe P1 makes it a little too easy for him to kinda ignore the Kin issue, he is only mad about their circumstances when it comes to Vlad choosing to doom thousands of the Kin workers inside the Termitary (which is just his doctor ethics). I mean it is realistic for him to ignore the implications of representing the imperialist side, he does mention his father was a military man too at some point I think... Still, he is very quick to accept the Kin's unique beliefs as something that has obvious merit, trusting the Haruspex with that side of things in both of their routes, and he doesn't make much of a distinction between them and regular Town people when it comes to patient treatment. If anything it's probably a sign of how the writers weren't thinking that hard about this worldbuilding aspect at the time... even if I appreciated them showing the downsides of the Kin's society, I think those were done better than in P2 purely because it was a bit more realistic (I am talking about sexism mostly, such as selling their own daughters and not respecting their autonomy, plus the mention of Kin politics and different ruling clans rather than the hive mind situation implied in P2). Like, it is more obvious in P1 that wholeheartedly embracing the Kin's return to tradition isn't such a good solution for them either, but one that will likely happen anyway with Artemy and Taya as their new leaders. And it could get trickier in Pathologic 3 I think, especially since most of us really appreciated the portrayal of colonization in P2 and would expect it getting addressed again in future games of other character routes, but we'll see I guess! Either way I look forward to that game a lot now.

#pathologic #patho1 #daniil dankovsky #artemy burakh #the bachelor #the haruspex #RAMBLINGS again #long post #text

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animatorweirdo · 6 months ago

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Hogwarts Student In Middle Earth

Requested by Anon

Hi! Sending you a request for headcanons (?) of a Hogwarts student landing in Middle Earth and meeting the elves? Thank you!

(Author note: I couldn't figure out what kind of reaction you were hoping for, so I made another analysis like fic to go through all the ages of Arda and the elves' reaction toward a Hogwarts student. I hope you enjoy it. )

Warnings: some mentions of the first age events, the first age, mentions of dangers, and trauma, some elves being nice, some not, possibly getting stuck in a world, some nice moments, and adventures.

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- If you were a Hogwarts student and ended up in Middle Earth. The reasons for that could be a failed group project, messing up with a spell, or going somewhere you were not supposed to go and falling through a magical crack in time and reality that dropped you off in Middle Earth.

- How you manage will depend on your age and knowledge of magic, If you are somewhere in the sixth or seventh year, you would probably do fine. If you are somewhere in the third or fifth year, you will have challenges but will manage. However, if you are a first or a second year, you are a literal child in a dangerous world.

- For the sake of this fic, let’s make you either a sixth or a seventh-year student.

- If you dropped off in Middle Earth at the age of the trees, there is a high chance you ended up in Aman.

- You would cause a small shock among the high elves as they have never seen a human, especially a child capable of magic. You might be a small teen, but in their eyes, you would most likely be considered a toddler and they would not be able to comprehend your age.

- However, you will most likely be safe among them after explaining what happened and that you made a magical mistake.

- The Valars would likely give you some help, and some elder elves who are familiar in the ways of magic.

- You would be given a chance to get familiar with different elven clans and their cultures, and in return, you would share a little of the human world and the world of magic there.

- I think they would feel intrigued by your charms, and if you struggled in Astrology, they would likely be more than happy to help you learn— taking their appreciation toward Varda’s stars. However, don’t try to fly on the broom in front of them, they would likely get a heart attack.

- They would likely teach you a few things about their magic so that you could show off to your friends in your world.

- The chances are that you would be returned to your world before any of the darkening and schemes of Melkor began. However, if you appeared in Aman when it happened, you would most likely be kept at a safe distance.

- You could offer your magic to make light through the darkness and help the injured with your potion skills, but otherwise, there would be very little you could do to help.

- You would be traumatized if you witnessed the kin slaying and then you would be sent back without another word.

- Overall, depending on when you appeared in Aman during the age of the trees, your experience wouldn’t be awful and there is a chance your eyes might end up glowing after seeing the two trees. However, you might want to stay away from Melkor and the drama between Feanor and his family. And no, the elves would still treat you as a toddler even if you were a teen by human standards.

- If you appeared in the first age, then you would most likely have a rough time and would have to find a way back to your home on your own.

- Personally, I think the safest places and elves for you to meet are either the Falathrim or the Doriath elves. I think Cirdan would easily take lost children under his care and offer help to you in magical arts, and you would be more safe from the dangers. If you appeared in the woods of Doriaths, the Sindar would be slightly skeptical of you but give you a chance to explain your situation, and if you do not turn out to be a danger, then they would allow you to stay and seek help from Melian.

- I think with the Falathrim you could make use of your potion skills during your free time, and with the Doriath elves, you could make use of herbology and knowledge of magical creatures.

- They would be more open-minded to your magical abilities and since you are a child in their eyes, they would let you stay safe from danger. The chances of you finding a way back are way higher and they could teach you a thing or two in magic.

- I think the Noldor would be the least safe people for you to meet. Since they are mostly located in the north, you would face more dangers, and they might be the most suspicious of you and your magical abilities. If you manage to convince them, then they might allow you to remain with them for safety. However, some of them might find use in your magic against Morgoth, so your chances of going home would be low and you might get put into danger, depending on which elf you meet.

- If you are somewhat involved with the war against Morgoth, then you would be in much more danger. You would have to count on your specialties to survive, and there might be a chance it would take years before you found a way back to your world. You also might want to watch out for those who try to sabotage your progress and prevent you from ever returning home.

- With them, you would need a wide knowledge of potions and defense against the dark arts because they will be most useful to you. If you weren’t the best at those subjects, then you would be in the first three weeks of your time there.

- No matter what, you will return home with some trauma. The first age was a time filled with war, so there would be a little safety for you there.

- If you end up in Middle Earth during the second age, there would be dangers of their own, but the elves would be least dangerous toward you. Your chances of going home would be moderate, and that might be because of the lack of knowledge, but if you work with them, then it would be successful.

- The third age would probably be safest out of the previous two. The elves would offer you safety in their homes, and help you find a way back home. I think even a first-year would be safe in their care. You would be safe and allowed to learn a thing or two. Finding a way back to your world might take some time, but by then you would have learned new magic, made friends, and returned home.

- And if you met that one wandering wizard, then there is a chance you enjoyed a few adventures.

- Overall, the age of the trees and the third age would probably be the safest time for a Hogwarts student to appear in the world of Arda.

#silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #tolkien #middle earth x reader #silm fic #silmarillion imagines #middle earth #middle earth imagines #lotr x reader #hogwarts #silmarillion/hogwarts

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intheholler · 4 months ago

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brought up in the rolling hills of greater appalachia, there were scarce times, there were good times, and there were rough times. just like anywhere else. but at all times there was hope and community, no matter the circumstance.

as many negative things as i hear about the place i live and as many experiences i have had that align with such criticisms, there were a thousand more instances where i was blessed with an enchanting, community enriched childhood. i will never forget or under-appreciate the closeness of neighbors despite our long lengths from one another.

what i mean to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

my Daddy is a pastor and my Mama the most down to earth pastor’s wife to walk this sweet, dark-soiled land we are so blessed to live on. even though my father and i don’t always get along, my mother and i are and will forever be the most kindred of spirits. through her wit, her will, and her wisdom, many traditions of appalachia have been passed down to me.

your porch ceiling best be haint blue, and you had better never close another person’s pocket knife. always gift a hand-quilted or crocheted blanket at every baby shower you ever attend. sprinkling salt at every doorway while squeaking out a hushed and hastened prayer for protection.

even those are just a few traditions that i can credit to my culture and my mother who instilled it in me. and that installation is so incredibly important. so as not to lose our rich, beautiful, and complex history.

the first rumblings, the soft spot

an important experience that i would argue helps many appalachian children to realize their culture and heritage is when they, for the first time, listen in to the kitchen talk among cousins. how Papaw can’t read so well because he never got to finish up school and why Uncle Rick got this new job manufacturing cars. how Meemaw lost her baby to scarlett fever and how Miss Deretta down the road worked at the children’s home where your cousin Thomas got dropped off in a cardboard box after a flood that demolished the apartments uptown. slowly, piece by piece, your young mind starts to understand the ebb and flow of unspoken community support. the gentle hand holding taking place through the entire mountain range. the interwoven families that aren’t any kin.

running interference

as you grow up, unfortunately, the world seeps in, slow and clever as a fox in the hen house. making your own out to be some sort of gnawing hillbilly that don’t know their ass from grass. and suddenly when someone asks where you’re from you’re ashamed to admit it. the only thing that you and friends talk about is getting out and seeing new places, away from the parents and the gossip pew of your respective churches. on friday night you all meet up in the Dollar General parking lot and carpool to your school’s football game so that you can shout wildly inappropriate cheers at the rival of the night from the student section. you run into Mrs Connor while washing your hands in the restrooms behind the stadium and when she tells you vibrant stories of your Pa in high school, skipping for deer hunting season along with half of the class of ‘68, you appreciate her. and you don’t know it, but every interaction like that, grows your mountain heart bigger, making more room for story after story.

one of my friends is now engaged to the man who was their starting quarterback. the two of them are the sweetest of couples. the world is perfectly small here.

weeks-long revival and a singing every night

after an innocent turned passionate kiss in your church crush’s car, you find space on the pew with the rest of your youth group, leaving room for jesus, of course. Aneoumes (an-nay-mus, unique name, i know) the church Dulcimer player brings out his fine jnstrument with Mrs Dorothy, the pianist and the previously mentioned Mrs Connor on the organ to do their own mesmerizing renditions of When the Roll is Called up Yonder, I’ll Fly Away, The Gloryland Way, Mansion Over the Hilltop, He Set me Free, Heaven’s Jubilee, and the baptist favorite, Amazing Grace making for a beautiful night of harmony among voices. anymore you weren’t sure what you believed (not that you dared to tell a soul, or even say it out loud) but you knew good and well that church brought people together and helped those in need, and both of those were things you could get on board with. of course the politics were messy, but you could mostly keep your lips sealed. your home church certainly did more to feed the hungry than the government officials who were supposedly all libbed up, or at least that is what they’d pushed.

suddenly, this place didn’t seem so bad. you were worn smack out but only because of the late company, which you certainly didn’t mind in exchange for a typical night of hot, early sleep. when you got home Todd Lee your neighbor was still cutting hay and so the putputput of his tractor lulled you off to sleep. he told you “it keeps the sugar in, seeing’s that it’s nice and cool out in the dark” he had told you when you let him know that his lively tractor sounds put you at peace every night.

something about this place felt more special, fonder, than what you had understood in your younger teen years.

the first leaving

your dad received a stimulus check during the pandemic and decided to go visit his aunt Barbara on the northeast coast. being away from home a whole week felt like a pig being gutted and packed, still warm in the patties. it was awful. every night you cried, holding your younger siblings who did the same, no one here smiled or talked to you and the rain didn’t smell right, the food was bland and blended all together in taste, worst of all there was nowhere to be that wasn’t covered in concrete and where there was, you had to pay for access. when the mountains finally came back into sight, your heart leaped and tears fell from your eyes. that moment was as close to divine intervention as you’d felt since your baptism. gratitude overwhelmed your senses and you thanked jesus for being born where you were. where people were friendly and food was good and friends were close and everything was wide open.

for a moment you wondered if when David wrote “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” if he too was experiencing the peace of returning home after a tumultuous time away.

the second leaving and the enthusiastic return

now, you’re headed off to college. it grips at your heart that you won’t be with the supportive community around you that you’ve always had. but this time the leaving makes sense. you’ll educate yourself on how to teach and help others, you’ll take extra, unnecessary classes on heritage and both cultural and natural history. upon your return you get to take all that hurt from being away and pour back into the place that has loved you so well. and you get to be the next generation to tell your own kiddos to keep the haints from their houses and their hands to the knives in their own pockets.

hopefully your loving will look a bit different, cast a wider net so that those kids who weren’t as lucky as you feel accepted in the community of people around them.

most importantly when you return with your degree and your license to teach, you can instill pride in those children, let them know that these lush hills and woods and creeks and mountains they call home really are some of the most wonderful places this world has to offer up. encourage them to believe that professional speaking is not removed from their dialect but rather in their clarity of conveyance. uplift the idea that time spent with family and friends, neighbors and strangers alike is to be valued. and most importantly in my book, teach them to appreciate the stories they are told, to remember them whether mentally or by doing some manual record keeping. our stories are our testaments to the fulfilling life that can be lived here. and the stories of our neighbor may have a great impact in our thinking.

what i’m trying to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

(i got totally carried away, sorry it’s so long)

#love letters to appalachia #i was crying so hard reading this i had to keep stopping cause i couldnt see HA #lord almighty #i have so much to say because i felt nearly every word of this but i dont even know where to begin #thank you for getting carried away actually. please dont apologize #appalachia they could never make me hate you <3 #fav #appalachia #appalachian culture #asks

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exhaslo · 8 months ago

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HOLY MURKROW YOU ANSWERED MY ASK!!! SQUEEE!!!! Ahhh, that's so awesome! College is keeping me busy, so I haven't been able to talk much.

But, I had another idea, and since you write for Miguel and did so AWESOME 👍 with the last ask I rambled with.....

😅👉👈 I had an idea! (Hope you don't mind me rambling!)

So.... I had an idea about a witchy spider-person. Like, A spider-person who can use magic! It'd be so cool!

And since I'm addicted to making this big Tarantula man sleep, (because we know he doesn't sleep, don't deny it you know it's true) Miguel or Lyla, in a moment of weakness or (in Lyla's case, out of concern for Miguel) calls the magic spider-person into Miguel's office and while Miguel and our Spell-slinger (Such a cool name) banter and talk, eventually, one of them asks Spell-slinger to cast some sort of spell on Miguel to help him sleep.....

Man, he's out like a light. Super fluffy, super cute. That's all!

Thanks so much! Have a wonderful day! (Also, sorry if your requests aren't open, I didn't see anything about whether they were open or not. Take your time on this one if you want to write it, it'll be great, but don't push yourself friend!)

Aweeee this is a super cute idea!!! Thank you for reading and enjoying my previous stories!!! And thank you for your patience!!!

Warning: None, just Fluff

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"A bark of sandal wood!"

Poof

"A sprinkle of Kiwi seeds~"

Whoosh

"A dash of Jasmine petals!"

Foosh

"And a touch of hoping this works magic!"

Kaboom

"AND WE HAVE IT! Feast your eyes folks, for I, Spell-Slinger, New Myth-York's one and only Spider Witch, has created a new and powerful potion!"

You let out a roar of laughter as you spoke to yourself in your one bedroom apartment. Clearing your throat, you gave a small pout towards your pot since no one was there to witness your wonderful creation.

"Oh, what am I to expect? Tis a city out there of many witches and fiends, yet I be it the only Spider-Witch. How doust thou expect to find such moments amusing?"

"You're being dramatic again, (Y/N)" Lyla spoke as she appeared from your watch. You gave the AI a small pout as you approached your large cauldron,

"Oh, but I must. For you have given me such a....challenging task! Far more than the night of Hollow's Eve when my Goblin tried to ruin the yearly rituals for the Werewolves."

"Another reason why Miguel doesn't like sending people to your world for missions. Your mythical creatures and culture might spark the wrong kind of interest in others." Lyla explained before appearing before the bubbling pot, "Is it ready?"

"Yes. I must say, a sleeping potion is quite rare for us Witches to do anymore. Not with modern technology that is."

"Yes, but Miguel won't take over counter medicine. We needed something stronger."

"And me busting out the hundred year old spell book had to be it?"

Let's back track a little. You lived on Earth-54987. A Earth where everyone was a mythical creature or being of some sort. You were born as an average witch, with no outstanding abilities to separate you and your fellow kin.

That was until you were bit by a radioactive Spider that the Sphinx's were experimenting on. In your world, the Sphinx's the smartest of all races...and now because of their experiment...You were a hybrid like no other.

Your witch casting abilities had intensified and you also gained the abilities of a Spider. It was unique and nothing that anyone had seen before. You could either swing across the city or fly on your broom that you customized yourself.

You hadn't thought about being a Super Hero since it was difficult in your world, but things changed when the Black Market started to steal people's abilities and forms away.

You became the hero known as Spell-Slinger. Fighting villains whom wanted to cause havoc and chaos in your mythical world.

"Can you bottle this up into some sort of drink?" Lyla questioned. You smiled,

"I can do you one better."

Fixing your dress, you approached your cauldron and inhaled deeply.

"Summon thee, oh summon thou, of which minor contraption that can hold. Summon thee, oh summon thou, a tool of how to spray on one wist challenge thy be!"

As you chanted, the liquid in the pot had started to spin and float. Above the smoke an item started to form of its essence. A spray bottle was created from the smoke and the potion made its way inside the bottle with ease.

"Bravo." Lyla chirped. You held the spray bottle in your hand,

"This will be easier. Shall we go?"

---------

Miguel grunted lowly as he sat in his dark, gloomy office, working on some paperwork. It had been a while since he last caught some shut eye, but who could sleep when the fate of the Multiverse laid on his shoulders?

"Not to mention Alchemax is getting on my last nerves," Miguel grumbled out as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Miguel had a bad habit of staying up for days on end. His motto was that the only way work will get done is if he did it. There weren't many people he trusted. Not many people could do the work he could anyway.

"Miguel, you need to rest. Your body is going to crash again at this rate." Lyla warned.

"I'm fine."

"No. You're not, but it's fine. I've enlisted help."

"Help-Lyla!"

Miguel hissed as he watched his AI disappear. Sometimes, he truly regretted allowing his AI to become self aware. Groaning at the thought of what Lyla was planning now, Miguel paused all of his work.

This wasn't the first time Lyla had 'enlisted help'. Honestly, at this rate everyone in the Spider Society knew about Miguel's horrible sleeping habits. They probably thought it was a game to see who could make him fall asleep first.

"Hm?"

Miguel's lazily stare focused on you as you came flying in on your Spider-like broom.

"I don't think your hocus pocus will help." Miguel spat. You gasped softly,

"That is actually an insult to me."

"Ah, my apologies then." Miguel muttered. You huffed in response, glancing towards your handsome boss,

"Lyla says you haven't been sleeping much. Need some help?"

"Thank you, but no thank you. I'm fine." Miguel muttered, glancing at your broom and costume, "Are you fitting in well here?" He asked out of concern. You smiled softly towards his concern,

"Aside from. 'Is the witch of the west your aunt?' kind of questions, I'm doing fine. Thanks for asking."

Miguel grunted in response as he observed you a bit longer. You were a special Spider that he found interesting. He liked how unique and quirky you were, but still stuck to your ideals.

"You can forget about Lyla's task. Sorry to have taken time out of your day."

"It's fine, but could you do me a little favor?"

"Hm?"

"Start pre-dreaming! It will help you sleep better." You cooed, getting close to his face. Miguel furrowed his brows,

"Pre-Dreaming?"

"Mhm, start thinking about what you want to dream about. Gets you looking forward to that sweet rest."

"Fine," Miguel smiled towards you, a rare gem one might say.

"May thy succumb to sweet dreams and blissful rest, oh tense one."

Miguel flinched as he felt his face engulf with a strange mist. Wanting to complain, his body slump as his eye lids dropped.

----------

Spraying your potion against Miguel's face, you hummed happily as Miguel instantly fell asleep. Yes, there was a little bit of guilt since Miguel rewarded you with a smile, but he needed to rest.

"Hehe, it worked~"

Catching the tall man with your broom, you carefully brought him to the softest spot you could find in his office. You casted a blanket and pillow out of air and smiled as Miguel snored. He looked so peaceful,

"Hm, I wonder what he is dreaming out?" You whispered. Lyla appeared and cheered you on,

"You should hide that potion somewhere in this office. That way I can get anyone to use it when he is tired."

"Ah, that would be too dangerous. Best this stays with me. Just summon me whenever Miguel needs to sleep."

"Fair enough."

As you flew off on your broom, you stopped in front of Miguel's door and webbed a sign up.

'Sleeping, Do not Disturb. Curtesy of (Y/N)'

Oh, you knew Miguel was going to chew you out later for it. But it brought a smile to your face. That, and you won the bet between everyone else who was trying to get Miguel to sleep.

This was a good day indeed!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed despite it being short! I liked getting creative with the Witch Spider, haha!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader

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bloopinggenius · 1 year ago

Text

✰𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝✰| Yautja x 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 |M/M/M/M/M x Reader

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

A throbbing head was the first thing Ryia felt when she woke up. Her vision, blurred at first, cleared up to reveal to her a room. Smooth pristine coal coloured walls surrounded her as well as the floor.

The room was decorated with medical looking devices some similar to human ones. Getting up into a sitting position, Ryia saw she was laid upon a metal slab covered with a some type of animal pelt. Head still throbbing, she decided to find a way out of the room. All the walls had no sign of a door or a way out but she did find a keypad that could open the door. The keys had weird symbols that she couldn't understand. However, when she stood near the keypad, the wall to the left shifted like a slide door.

Stunned, she stood for a moment before stepping out, making sure to keep her steps light, looking back in time to see the wall seamlessly slide back into place. She decided on which direction to go in given that she wanted to go home, so after a little innie miny moe game, she went left down the hall.

The hall curved, still the same coal coloured look, into an open area that looked like an alien kitchen and dining area. As she entered the area, she spotted, on one side of it, a large window that spanned the whole wall. She ran to it while still being aware of how much noise she made. She looked out noticing how high the unknown object was from the ground and she was still able to see her house.

She let out a quiet sigh in relief that she was still on Earth. Now that she thought about it, what if those creatures weren't re-

Soft clicking noises could be heard behind Ryia and she felt like she could pass out.

Slowly, she turned around, and came face to face with three of the things she saw a couple hours ago.

"Three? Where are the other two?" She thought. But before that thought could be answered, the biggest of the three growled at her so ferociously she could feel it in her bones. The sound made goosebumps crawl onto her skin and she shrunk into the window behind her. The smallest of the males went in front of his kin and gave a him a shove.

"Calm down Vikap, you're scaring her." An'tui said to him while trying to calm him. "I have no reason to care about her feelings. She is prey. Her smell invades my senses and it makes me want to rip out her head from her body. I want her out!" He growls out. "Calm 𝒎𝒆𝒊'𝒉𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒊. That is a decision for Ra'kar to make."

Ryia was stood- more like plastered against the window in fear but also in bewilderment as she watched the interaction. It seemed the smaller one was attempting to calm "Hulk" as she called him, but she wasn't sure if that was the case because it just seemed like they were arguing from her point of view.

Just then, the other two appeared. The one that grabbed her so hard she swears her mother turned in her grave. Now that it was light out, she could see the dread-like appendages from his head, from all their heads, however his were lengthy; from his lower back and just past his waist and were greying at the ends. And then there was the one that stares at her with an odd look. Like he is constantly observing her, not judging, just staring.

'Grey', she called him, walked with such confidence that it brought Ryia's already low self-esteem lower. She shrunk into herself; the degrading thoughts making themselves known in her head. 'Grey' began clicking at his brothers before looking at her with a gentle look.

A growled out voice could be heard when she heard him spoke," Ooman......you...are aboard...our...ship." The sentence was garbled almost like it was generated. "You collapsed due to your fall after I grabbed....you. I sincerely apologize for that." First of all, Ryia wasn't detered by anything that had just happened, she just wanted to know why she could understand them.

"Y-you..guys...can speak..English?" She whispered out. "No, T'edqah implanted a translator behind your ear," as he said that she felt behind both ears at the same time and behind her right ear, there was a small bump that stung just a little. She dropped her arms and felt rather small in that moment as they were all intensely looking at her, well except Hulk, he just kinda looked like he was glaring at her.

"Who is 𝑇𝑒-𝑔𝑘-𝑎?" Mr Grey gestured towards the leanest one of all five. However that word should be taken very lightly because even though he was lean for the obvious fact that he worked in medical, he was still a hunking mass built with broad shoulders, strong legs and not to mention a sculptured torso. At this point, Ryia realised that she was ogling because the room had gone silent with all of them watching her.

"Its 𝑇𝑒𝑑-𝑘𝑎. He is our health aide or as you humans call it, a medic." "And who are you?" She asked.

"Shit, I shouldn't have said that. It sounded rude." She thought. Hulk growled louder this time and stomped his way over to her and aggressively grabbed her throat adding enough pressure to almost deem her unconcious. Va'tha was alarmed as he was worried for the human's life but he didn't let it show in his expression. They all were alarmed but looked to Ra'kar for direction.

"Brother..." Va'tha's voice fades. "Vikap, let her go." Vikap's anger threatened to overweigh his loyalty to his leader. "But she spoke out of tone." At this point Ryia was shedding tears. The skin on her upper torso was sensitive as it is but her neck was very delicate as the skin there was thin from her abuse, so she was in the most pain she had been in since she left home.

"Just put her down." Ra'kar was stern this time and Vikap didn't want to anger him, so with the slightest hesitation, he let her go without a care. Ryia fell onto her kness before laying on her side gasping for air. Shockingly to the brothers, it didn't take long for her to recover as she was used to such behaviour. She got up to her feet and looked at Rakar.

"C-can I l-leave?" The question came out shakily and whispered but not in fear but because her throat was bruised. "We need to do a vital scan of-"

"I'll be fine. I'm a doctor."

".......ok. An'tui will show you out." The smallest one started walking and it took a minutes before she followed. She walked a couple steps behind him. Even if he was the smallest, Ryia couldn't help but ogle him. All 7' something inches of him. One itty bitty question bottled her though. She just hoped he wouldn't react as violently as Hulk.

Back in the dining room, Vikap felt better now that the human was gone. "Vikap, why do you always have to go crazy?" T'edqah asked with a shove. "I will do what I wanted to do to her to you." "And I will shove a needle up your-"

"Enough! Vikap, this has happened one to many times. Go and cool off." Vikap left without a sound leaving the two together.

"'Should I ask or not? I mean I think I should but I don't want to die. What if he does worse? And 'Grey' isn't here to intervene. What if the answer is obvious? I could just try and find out on my own. I mean-'

"Are you guys dating?" The words flew right out of her mouth. Silence filled the empty hall. An'tui stopped walking. 'Oh no.' He spun in shock and looked straight at her. Slowly, he shook his head. "....No."

"....hm." He turned again and continued walking. Soon enough, they arrived at a wall just like the one she came across before and saw how seamless the door was. An'tui opened the door using some gauntlet on his wrist and gestured towards the ramp once the door was raised.

"Uh....thanks." "Now from what i've seen in horror movies, never turn your back towards the enemy. But walking backwards is a bad omen. So I'll walk out the doorway forwards, spin back towards him, check for any signs of an attack then run...no sprint home." All this she thought as she slowly walked to the doorway. When she got there, she put it into action and did as thought.

Once she got to the back door she entered, locked the door and rested against it. Then she crawled to a window to peep out of it to see if they were watching and to her embarassment, they were.

"I need to get out of here." She thought. She made sure to keep away from any windows and made her way upstairs and into her room. The trek upstairs was fairly easy. She ran into her bedroom and got her phone out. There was only one person she could talk to in the moment to fetch her and that was Louis. She wouldn't consider him as her best friend as she wasn't close to people like that and when she was close to someone, they hurt her. Crouched and on her knees in front of her bed, she rung him up and as always, he answered on her third attempt of trying to reach him.

"Ryia! Baby! How are you? It's been a while. I've been waiting for your call. It's like you forget about me when you leave work. How's life? Any hotties wanna party? Any daddies wanna smashie. Two bodies doing the naughty-"

"Shut up will you?", she whisper yelled. "Sorry. I'm kinda sorta in a situation right now and I would like it if you would get over her right now. I need a ride." She rushed out.

"Well excuse you honey, if you forgot, I'm kinda uhm....a DOCTOR. I got people to help here. You do know that you can still drive your OWN car to the store. You're not handicapped just because you're on your period."

"Firstly, ewww. Secondly this situation is serious. I don't know how to tell you this but," as she says this she doesn't notice An'tui approaching from behind her silently and appearing in her doorway. "There are aliens in my backyard."

"Are you ok? Are you high? Did you hit your head really hard? Cause like I'm confused."

"Please just get here." She adds on.

"I'll see later, Ryia. BAAYYE."

"Did I mention they're hot...?"

"....I'll be right there." He ends the call abruptly before she can even say bye.

A hefty sigh of relief leaves a lips as she sat down fully with her leg supporting her arm.

'Ok now I need to-"AAAHHHH!" Her screech was so high pitched, it startled the male into a defensive stance. She reached for her throw pillows and flung them with all her might at him which caused him to straighten back up but they had no effect on his rock solid muscled body. "What are you doing here! Get out! Get out!"

An'tui could sense the stress of the female and purred lowly. "Calm down. I followed you to keep an eye on you."

"Why!" At this point she was slowly hyperventilating and couldn't breathe properly. An'tui saw this and approached her with slow and measured steps. "Calm down. My scans show that you overbreathing also know as hyperventilating. Listen to me. Breathe in, breathe out."

Ryia didn't know why but for some reason she listened and soon enough her breathing had returned to normal.

"Why should you be keeping an eye on me? I don't have anything you guys need or want and I didn't steal anything."

"You may have not done anything but you jave seen us and know we exist. We cannot risk you telling anyone about us and this was the better choice."

"W-what was the other choice?"

"To kill you."

She took a tentative step backwards, you know just in case, with a scared look on her face.

"I'm sure t-that was Hulk's idea."

"What is a Hulk?"

"Nevermind-"

The conversation was interrupted by loud honking from outside. An'tui's head snapped towards the window whilst a set of blades extended from his wrist. The 2 foot blades were sharpened to perfection and glistened in the light of the room.

"Stay here. There is a threat outside that needs to be terminated."

He turned on his heels and headed for the door. Ryia realized that it was her crazy friend and followed behind him.

"Wait! Wait! He's not a threat! He's just a friend! An accomplice! A companion!"

≻───── ⋆ ⋆ ─────≺

Hey guys! Geenius here. Here's part two of the series. Hope you guys enjoy it. 💋💋

Taglist: @maxismp1

#yautja x you #yautja x reader #yautja x oc #yautja x human #yautja #black women #black woman #black girl magic #predator x you #predator x reader #predator x human #predator #romance #romantic

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