#'find out more things about the earth-kin'

[aurore-parle-de-ses-idees]

all the black book ‘heirloom of ....’ quests slap actually

[thegnomelord]

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.

[satvruu]

ೀ 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.

[tathrin]

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...!"

[achaoticeternal]

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."

[heartfullofleeches]

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.

[chernabogs]

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.

[animatorweirdo]

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.

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

- 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. 

[exhaslo]

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

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

"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!

[saturnbellfromhell]

MERCURIAL ENERGY

We have dived deep into our two youthful planets Venus and Mars. These two are the daughter and son of our masculine Sun and feminine Moon. But what about Mercury? Where does Mercury belong and to whom does Mercury belong? For some reason I see Mercury as being the same matter which are Venus and Mars made of, but with an interesting twist.

▫️Firstly Mercury is a neutral planet, being neither masculine nor feminine. Secondly Mercury is the only planet in SECT which is neither a benefic nor malefic, so it does not bring good or evil into one's chart. Mercury just exists and by doing so stands out from the other planets that are in close range to the Sun.

In my perspective I imagine this invisible veil between the juvenile and elder planets. The juvenile planets include: Mercury, Venus, Mars and the Moon. These planets are the Sun's family and in this family of 5 we can clearly see how different, but also familiar they all are. All of their energies blend so effortlessly together, learning from one another and becoming great. Together with the ascendant they make up the so called "Big Six" in astrology. Meaning these placements are more personal than the others mentioned.

▫️Mercury is the first planet in our solar system, the burning planet which represents our communication style. Meaning it shows in which ways we get our words across and how we write them out. It is the planet always in search of new possibilities and opinions. A highly intellectual planet helping us reach our potentional to think quickly and rationalize. Mercurial energy can be divided into two signs: one being mutable air- Gemini, and the other being mutable earth-Virgo. These signs are both the homeowners of Mercury. Mercury has chosen them as residents because of their hunger for  new skills and their adaptability to unfamiliar situations and people. They are the listens, talkers, explorers of new information and one's who rely more on their head, than their heart. So both can seem cold or aloof to emotions. I think of these two sister signs as the scientists of the zodiac, always absorbing new information, reading about it, trying their hardest to solve it and enjoying the process. Mutable signs signify the end to an old season, Gemini ends spring and Virgo ends summer. Both of them hold energy of change, with change folllows flexibility. They are the signs which we can say "perfect" everything the cardinals and fixed signs have already done. By doing so they need patience for brainstorming, productivity and finding solutions. But not everything is perfect for these sisters, they can take on too many projects and become overwhelmed very soon with their decisions. But nevertheless, Gemini and Virgo are very detail oriented and restless individuals. But what are the differences between these signs?

▫️Gemini is the first sign of the air signs, which automatically means they are the child of the air bunch. They are indeed witty and open, charismatic and friendly, playful and chatty. They really inbody Mercury at it's finest. They love meeting new people and being in the center of the crowd chatting away their passions and interests. They adore making others laugh as well, they are known to be the class clown or the popular kid. Everybody loves a true Gemini, they constantly bring this wave of freshness to the table. Not very shy by nature and a master at blending in with the crowd. Gemini's flaws are one's related to not having enough patience to finish things. They get carried away with going out, searching new things, shopping, listening to music, reading books, meeting new people and a thousand other hobbies and practices. Because of this they can be a little bit unreliable and impulsive. On the other hand, I've never met a true Gemini (meaning not a lot of earth/water) who is secretive, sorry Gemini but I wouldn't want to disclose a lot of personal things with you being a secretive Capricorn myself! They don't do it out of spite, to be fair. They kind of just forget that information is very important and keep talking away. They can be a little naive and clueless in their forming years with what to say and what not to say! They are an amazing teammate or class partner to have around as well, showing new strategies of both ends. Gemini's are also excellent writers and journalists, with their sharp thoughts and unconeventable style they know how to get an audience hooked on their work. In love they are up for new adventures and crave constatnt intellectual dialogs, without them Gemini's are prone to get bored quickly and find a better and more intersteing mate! So if you can't keep a Gemini, you need somebody more mellow and down to earth...maybe a Virgo?

▫️Virgos in my experience get a bad reputation most of the time. Yes, they like things to be their way, but that's just an earth sign thing. Yes they are very organized and dislike people in their private space and yes they are perfectionists because of this they can become very self conscious of their own work. But not all is bad for this earthly Mercurial goddess. Being an earth sign always means more caution with socializing. Virogo's are much more reserved than their sister Gemini, I mean at the end of the day they are the older sister and with age comes wisdom. They are very pracital and bland, but not bland in a bad way just casual with their demenoir. They seek peace within themselves and a lot of space to create what they adore. If you ever need a power point presentation, essay, schedule befriend a Virgo. If you're prone to messiness and rearranging things, than don't even try befriending a Virgo they will curse the hell out of you. I think the thing I love about Virgo's the most is their loyalty and honesty, it can come across bitchy to some sensitive individuals, but I'm all about being upfront. They are also known to not really commit in a traditional sense, they kinda just move in, put their nicest cup in your cupboard and clean your house and than poof all of a sudden they are living with you. They aren't very vocal in their love language, more of an acts of service type of sign. They adore stability and routine in the relationship, soft chatty nights with a glass of vine and working together to make everything fall in it's place.

◻So the main differences are clearly in the socializing and optimism department. Think of Gemini as golden retriever energy and Virgo as black cat energy. They are opposite in a sense, but at the end of the day are amazing communicators, ambitious hobbyists and intellectual beings.

▫️Gemini is the owner of the 3rd house, also known as the house house of the mind. It encompasses anything that has to do with writing, speaking, communicating, editing, speaking, reading, researching and learning. It also represents our siblings and close neighbour's. So if you by any chance have a planet in the 3rd house it can indicate how you interact with one's close to you. For example if you have the Moon on this house, it means you come off as very emotional to your siblings, relatives or neighbour's. But it also depends in which sign, so if you're Caprricorn Moon is in the 3rd house, you are very distant to those around you, you keep to yourself and like to be the leader of the pack. Very polite in most accasions, straight forward, not very emotional to strangers but very protective over your siblings and relatives. The 3rd house can also show us our dreams, so if you have Neptune in this house it amplifies it! This house is also about development in our childhood, as known you learn from your family, siblings an/or relatives. Sometimes from neighbour's too. They fill our days and make structure in our life. School is also a crucial part of growing up, seeking more knowledge and getting to know oneself around a bunch of kids around us.

▫️ On the other hand, big sister Virgo has the keys to the 6th house. It is firstly the house of health and wellness, exercise and dieting. With this house we can pin point how individuals like to work out, this can mean yoga, pilates, the gym, sports, cardio etc. It also can indicate problems with our health, where it can decline, the more sensitive parts of our body's. For example if chiron is in this house it can mean a lot of health issues with the natives, by doing so this person will fill their life with a lot a information about taking care of their body and by doing so exchange this information with others to help them get/feel better. Other than your health, this house is also the house of daily routines. When and how you organize your day, is sticking to a routine easy or hard for you? Your day-to day job, duties, how we better ourselves and be of service to others. It is also the last personal house, so here we purge our self centered attitude before stepping in the house of partnership (7th house). After the 6th house our lives turn over to others, comprise, transitions, transformation...etc This is also where you find the answers to healing oneself, bettering your life and getting a deeper understanding of your surroundings. If you have planets in the 6th house you better find a way to work with them or you'll be prone to shitty days often.

Let's get into some of mine obersvations with mercurial energy shall we?

▫️Virgo Sun women are so so in love with their partner, but show it in such a cute manner. Not a lot of pda (only if you have prominent fire placements or a fiery Venus). They show their affection in tiny touches on their partner of spouse. They also love to make the bed, put on the show, bring the snacks and make a perfect evening. Their favorite type of unwinding is for sure a book, ambient light and some sweet tea. They also love to discuss what they have been reading lately or the show they've dug into.

▫️Virgo Moons can be very complicated (I see this with all the earth moons, even though Taurus Moon in my perspective is the easiest to have). They have a hard time finding the words how to explain their feelings, which they are not keen to talk about in the first place. But when they do, they can explain their pattern of behavior, but not really emotionally deep. They crave a modest, realistic and honest person by their side. They can also have a bit of ocd. I've met a few Virgo Moons who's mom/dad always forced things to be perfect at home. They can be prone to overanylizing their emotions and coming off distant most of the time.

▫️Mercury in the 6th house can be very nervous and on edge a lot of the time. Even though this is the house whereMercury is at home, these people don't let anything slip threw the cracks. They are amazing in theoretical writing and finding everything they need to write about in a matter of minutes. Amazing with describing things to others. Can be outstanding teachers.

▫️Gemini moons have a humorous take when explaing their emotions. They're the one's to say something sad and than turn it into a joke. They are also prone to becoming chaotic by not understanding how/when to react. They are great sharers of emotions and events, but not the best listeners. Communication, being via phone call or text is their love language, so reply to a Gemini Moon fast.

▫️Mercury in the 3rd house is the "it" placement for a writer, but I think I don't even have to say that...they already know this!

▫️Mercury in the 7th house is an amazing planet to govern this house. It keeps the partnership fresh, simple, full of optimism, great conversation and is never dull. It also helps in work partnerships, since things will be easier to plan together threw good communication.

▫️Mercury in the 9th house can mean you have a talent for learning/speaking other languages!

▫️Gemini Sun's have a good taste in music and they know all about the band/artist, of course. They have to know all about it! I've also met a got of Gemini's who listen to metal, being heavy, death or trash metal. I have no idea if this is a coincidence or not.

▫️I love how cool Gemini risings look like. They always have some fun accessory to show off!

▫️A Virgo stellium can mean you are very prone to isolate until you get your shit together. Their house also looks and feels expensive and sterile. They are the one's to go jogging in 5am, have their smoothies by 6 and than work, have an amazing self care routine and fall asleep on their silk pillows.

▫️Gemini Venuses are very experimental in the bedroom, they do love their partners to be a little bit older and enjoy playing with toys! Also they are very vocal in the bedroom.

▫️Virgo Venuses on the other hand can have a hard time. Since Venus is in detriment/fall in this sign it can be tricky. Virgo Venus individuals need someone steady and secure, someone that will really love them for who they are and make them feel safe. Virgo can be very sensitive so go hug and kiss your Virgo Venus babes, they need it. Don't expect a I love you back from them though, but they will show a lot of love threw their actions rather than words. They do like some ambient light and smooth music to get in the mood.

▫️Gemini Mercury's are really good at dirty talk, go try it out!

▫️Mercury in Sagittarius can be tricky when younger. Every archer is bad in the beginning so they need a lot of practice, in this cause it's with words. Sag Mercuries can have an outburst of words when annoyed, they can say things they don't want to say and not think things threw. They can come off very sarcastic aswell, but they are extremely witty and funny I have to say that.

Xoxo Numa

[bloopinggenius]

✰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

[talshiargirlfriend]

Remember when I said I’d been thinking about how (some) other Vulcans (mis)treat T’Pol? This…

— post Terra Prime ficlet

“Perhaps the kin-kur-savas would be more to your liking,” the Vulcan steward suggests.

T’Pol’s lips tighten fractionally before she quietly responds, “Thank you for the recommendation, but I am content with my choices.”

The man turns slightly to include Trip in his blandly disapproving stare.

There’s some Vulcan social subtext Trip can’t parse, so he just stands sternly at T’Pol’s side. She has hardly eaten a thing since Elizabeth died, and if this jackass puts her off her meager breakfast Trip’s gonna put him out an airlock. Mentally, of course, while outwardly observing appropriate decorum on the Vulcan transport delivering the grieving parents to Vulcan for an acknowledgment and internment rite with T’Pol’s clan.

Enterprise had been ordered to remain in-system around Sol tying up Terra Prime loose ends and doing coalition schmoozing. Blessedly Trip and T’Pol have been spared any more Earth media scrutiny for now.

Shran had actually offered to give the pair a lift to Vulcan on his way back to Andoria to continue rallying support for the fledgling Coalition of Planets, but T’Pol was insistent they travel via Vulcan ship. At Trip’s questioning she’d reluctantly admitted that her ties to Vulcan society were somewhat tenuous, and there were many who would view her arrival on an Andorian vessel as evidence she no longer belongs to her home planet at all.

Trip quietly wonders if it was worth the trouble given their reception aboard the T’Mara. For every “I grieve with thee” there’s been a haughty look or three. He’s doing his best to be a perfect guest and support T’Pol. Most of the time he wants to scream, cry, hit someone, or all three.

The steward has thankfully left to go be dour elsewhere, and he and T’Pol take their breakfast trays to a table near a window.

T’Pol glances at her food and drink and then stares out at the passing stars.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” he asks her gently.

He can see by the tightness around her eyes and mouth that she very much does not “wanna.”

“Kin-kur-savas is a Vulcan stone fruit. It has variegated skin of yellow, green and red, pale yellow flesh, and a small deep red pit at the center. You once likened them to Vulcan peaches.”

“I remember.”

She hesitates, “It was an insult meant to imply that while I may still appear Vulcan I am human at my core.”

Trip inhales sharply and bites down on his anger.

“Additionally, his use of English gave him the plausible excuse of deference to your presence while effectively… alienating me further,” T’Pol finishes.

He doesn’t insult her by asking if she’s sure she’s not reading too much into it. It doesn’t surprise him that Vulcans can be just as bigoted and cruel as humans, but it’s still hard to see it directed at T’Pol, especially when he knows how hard she’s working to hold herself together right now.

Trip is absolutely not going to do anything that will bring shame to his daughter (may she rest in peace), or her mother (may she live long and prosper), so he breathes in a controlled manner and tries to keep all traces of what he’s feeling off his face.

He reaches for a utensil and casually touches T’Pol’s hand. When she makes eye contact he thinks as clearly and deliberately as he can: What an asshole. There’s a flicker of amusement in her eyes. Whether she understood his thought or was just entertained by his pathetic attempt at telepathy, he’ll take the win.

“I’m sorry if my presence is making this worse for you,” he tells her with sympathy.

She gives him a long look. “Trip, his actions reflect only on himself. Your attendance is appropriate and necessary as Elizabeth’s father,” she looks down briefly before continuing, “and I personally find your presence… beneficial. As I said, I am content with my choices.” Her voice is soft but firm.

It may not be a romance novel confession of love, but Trip is moved nonetheless.

“That’s good. I … I feel better when you’re around, too.”

T’Pol gives him a soft look and sips her tea. Trip flashes her a quick smile and takes a bite of the strange but not unpleasant plomeek porridge in front of him. Silently he rejoices when she follows suit, and they finish their meal together in companionable silence.

[ceescedasticity]

A question for your spackle tag: why do you think Feanor & Co had so much difficulty finding a reasonably safe exit route from Aman when Feanor had ostensibly spent years planning to... leave Aman? Why would the transportation issue have been overlooked for so long?

Hmmm. It does seem unlikely that he never ever thought about it. Some possibilities:

It never occurred to him the Teleri might not help — they're the ones with close kin back in Middle-earth. (Also never occurred to him that no one knew for sure that the swan-ships were capable of making the trip.)

He had plans to build his own equal or superior ships, but was in more of a hurry than expected.

Or it turned out to be a longer process than he was assuming.

He tried to build his own equal or superior ships, but they turned out not to be equal or superior, and he hadn't come up with a new plan before the situation turned urgent. (I read a crack fic once which had Fëanor designing and building a massive ship but overlooking some things and I think ending up blocking the Calacirya with [Quenya for 'ever given'].)

He knew there was an ice bridge in the north, and without checking it out assumed it was more bridge and less death trap.

He did check out the Ice a while back, decided he'd be able to handle the trip, and failed to consider that other people can't always handle what he can handle.

I think any of these is plausible? I would probably tend towards some combination of 2/3/4.

[bluemoon1331]

Hello, hello! Welcome to my main blog, where the DCA fascination consumes! My alt blog is @sharetheartman, go check it out if you wanna see the amazing art this community has to offer! Below is a list of my AUs that run wild both here and in my head, lmao. I hope you find something you enjoy!

Finished Works:

One Lost Star- You are a bit of a hermit, living solo off the land since the death of your grandfather. Until you draw certain godly attention, that is.

Scarlet Masquerade- The sole heir to your kingdom, you find yourself caught in the tangled web of the automaton emperor's plans. However, things are about to go from bad to worse when you catch the interest of the deadly automaton assassin sent to end you.

Dancing In Orbit- The lunar vampire is the last of his kind, a deadly plague on the Earth that refuses to yield despite the uncountable years that have passed since the last of his kin and kind died off. You, running from your intertwined past, seek to finally put an end to that, with some help from friends old and new.

Never Play Cat and Mouse With Vampires- Living alone is a necessity, your skills in hunting, magic, and evasion giving you all you need for contentment, or so you tell yourself. In your newest home you, unfortunately, find that your capabilities only draw the infatuation of three local creatures that are intent to finally capture you and make you theirs. Annoyingly, they may just get that chance. (Spice warning)

One-shots:

Party Crashing 101- A piece inspired by the mafia episode from Helluva Boss. Badass, protective reader ftw XD

Blooming In Adversity- You and the princesses were great friends in your youth, until you had to move away. Years later, you return, your friendship blooming anew. However, dark plots turn in the background, and it may be up to just you to save them.

Phantom Tide- You are a siren, crushed under betrayal. Sun and Moon are brothers recovering from the throes of grief. Perhaps you may be just what each other need.

Connotations- Your duties as a druid are fairly life-consuming, but you have happily devoted yourself to them. Keeping the peace is not the easiest, but you do it all the same. Unfortunately, the arrival of contesting priests threaten your efforts, setting you on a collision course to meet three of the forest's most powerful caretakers.

WIPs:

Embers and Ash- Ghost hunting is your profession, and you are damn good at it. Which is why you don't think twice when you're hired to cleanse an abandoned mansion of its otherworldly resident. Too bad this job is not the cake walk you thought it would be.

Cosmic Journeys- Trapped in the depths of depression, you seek an unfortunate out. The nearby land owner won't let that happen, though. Thus begins a journey of self-worth and finding hope in a world of madness and compassion, monsters, saints, and everything in between.

Burning Stars- You run your farm alone on a world teeming with aliens and humans, content with your animal family and helpful community, even if you keep the latter at arm's lengths. Until your peace is interrupted by a certain intergalactic bounty hunter, anyway.

Rosewood's Serenade- The eldest child of your kingdom, you have trained since birth to be all your home needs and more, intent to take the throne when the time comes, marriage or no. However, your parents harbor a secret, a deal struck when disaster threatened to destroy all they hold dear, and you soon find yourself meeting a most intriguing being...

Come and Go- A Megamind-inspired AU with Sun as Metroman, Moon as Megamind, and Eclipse as Titan, while you are a delivery driver caught in the middle.

Demonic- The saying of Hell is empty for all the demons are here has never been more apt. Caught smack dab in the middle of the infamous Hell-Day event, you come out with an unexpected passenger woven into your soul. Now, you secretly fight to preserve the fragile balance between mortals and the demons trapped on Earth, all while contending with the fact your new neighbors are the very ones responsible for sealing the gates, the infamous Celestial Graces. They also happen to be the mortal enemies of the one currently living in you. Fun times all around, especially with devil himself on your heels, seeking to reclaim what he lost.

Unusual- An oceanographer, there is no place you'd rather be than scouring the depths of the seven seas, studying its plant life and creatures, in particular the infamous mers, beings most of your co-workers are quite wary of. They don't seem to mind you too much, though, a fact you try not to put stock in until an encounter on the beach near your house flips your entire world upside down. Strings of fate and a battle to rule the oceans with you as the key? Ridiculous. Right?

Unnamed AUs floating around:

Lich King AU- With the three realms in shambles, cut off from each other, it is up to the most powerful warriors of Earth to fend off the lich king and his Elite army, including his own brothers. You, whom offers them a secret safe haven and relaxation when they need it, cannot deny your love for Sun and Moon, nor they you, but with Eclipse hounding for any weakness he can use against his kin, is the danger really worth it? You find the answer may be coming sooner than you would like when the two go missing after a fight.

Spirited Away AU- You have moved to a more remote region in hopes of forgetting a troubled family life. Content to spend your time among the lush jungles of the land, you inadvertently stumble upon an obviously long-forgotten temple. Curiosity eats at you, and you cannot help get closer, initially unaware of the myriad of eyes watching you, until you spot...an icy blue leopard? It's a good thing you helped those snakes and that spider on your way here.

Harem AU- You are a villainess, a job you quite revel in, bringing chaos to the masses alongside the clan of vampire brothers you have wrapped around your pretty, deadly little fingers. The centuries come and go with you weaving stories of heroes and villains at your leisure, spending the rest doting and being doted on by your suitors. Unfortunately, things take a turn when someone invades your world, offering a weapon to your latest hero that may actually be a problem for you. Just where in the hell are your fellow Storytellers? What is happening?

Mature Works (Minors Not Recommended):

Familiar Constellations- The vampires get a bit quirky about you, especially when you egg them on. Mature. Very, very mature. Good gods they are rough, but you love it. After all, you can get a bit rough with them, too.

Along the Akesh- Blessed with visions since your youth, you were taken and raised by the temple, becoming one of the highest-ranked priests, second to only the grand heijut himself. With an awe-inspiring festival and ritual that happens only once every five centuries under way, you are eager to meet the moon god, one of the many you have had the pleasure of conversing with throughout your prayers and oracles, in person. Things take an unexpected turn, however, when the temple must pay recompense for an accidental screw up with a gift left by an old friend. You are about to learn just how intrigued you and the moon god truly are with each other.

Bleeding Feathers- You weren't supposed to go into the exclusionary zone, but that's never been a problem for you before. This time, however, you might just get more than you bargained for. Fan piece for @deceptiveshadow's harpy au! (Not TSAMS)

Color Theory- Moving back to your late grandma's cabin, you pray for things to finally settle down. Unfortunately, her myriad of secrets seek to come back and haunt you, but hey, it might not be all bad this time. You could use the comfort of an old friend. Another fic inspired by @deceptiveshadow! Their god Blood Moon this time. (Not TSAMS)

[pipileo]

OC #3: Cucaracha (Species)

Again, Cucaracha (Racha, for short) isn't exactly an OC, but a stage of life for a species of Anthropomorphic Cockroach.

Rachas are the most common type of roach you'll see, since most roaches spend their lives in this life stage, after a Curichi grows up. It'll take them a while before they grow to the next stage.

STORYTIME! The roaches are literally just a science experiment gone haywire. A scientist wanted to find out what a chemical they developed was capable of, and they used a common roach to test it out. But they did it in their garage. The first test failed, mostly. The roach stood up on it's hind legs, but nothing more. So, in the next tests, the scientist combined the chemical with a roach larvae, and it started growing much larger than before. After coming to the realization that it might be way too risky to do this in a garage, they tried having it relocated to a much more secure laboratory, but on the way to the lab, the vehicle they were being taken in got into a car crash, and the larvae fell into an open manhole leading to the sewers. They were carried away by the water currents, which made it impossible to get them back before they hatched. Thus, once the new, anthropomorphic roaches grew and multiplied, they swarmed the Earth, and began their rampage.

FACT TIME! Rachas have a thick chitinous shell, which protects them from a lot of things, but smacking them with something heavy is usually enough to break the shell and make them more vulnerable. Guns are not the best choice, but try a baseball bat, or a hammer. Just make sure they don't crawl on you.

Most of these roaches usually won't attack if they're not around their kin. But even if they're alone, if you make them mad, you're probably toast. You can tell if a roach is upset if their antennas are curling upwards a bit. They don't show anger on their face, usually.

It's at this life stage when the roach starts speaking in broken English. Before a Curichi grows into a Cucaracha, Curichi's usually say "Richi," like a Pokémon. But now they can say stuff that a human can probably understand.

im done with this bug. the next post is going to be about the last life stage, and then im done with the roaches. cya!

[thelordofgifs]

Obscure Tolkien Blorbo: Round 4

A fox passing through the woods on business of his own vs Eldacar of Gondor

A fox passing through the woods on business of his own:

A fox who found Frodo, Sam and Pippin asleep under a tree and was puzzled by this.

Yeah sure why NOT switch PoV to a (arguably) non-sentient creature for like a paragraph with no bearing on the actual plot besides the comment that it never realized that the plot was happening??

It shows up for one page for no reason.  It's great.

Listen, that fox is absolutely a borbo. Confused? Funny? Has enough to be memorable but little enough to write a shitload of fanfiction about? Someone I have actually written about? Twice? (they aren't on ao3 though) clear boorbo

Look, people have observed before, correctly, that one of the things that sets The Lord of the Rings apart is that Tolkien will tell us things about the well-being of minor characters, like that the hobbits’ ponies that they lost in Bree were okay and went to live with Tom Bombadil. Tolkien is the kind of writer who will switch the POV to a fox who happens to pass by the hobbits on the first night of their journey to Rivendell, because the story isn’t just about the main characters, nor is it just about the endurance of realms like Rohan and Gondor. It’s about every living thing in Middle-earth, and for Frodo it’s especially about the Shire, the home of simplicity and good food and community and gardens and foxes. That’s what he takes up the Ring to save, and the fact that he takes it up with that motivation, not personal greatness or heroism, is what enables him to get as far as Mount Doom. Gandalf lays this idea out to Denethor when Denethor claims the fate of Gondor as a goal above all else: “For my part, I shall not wholly fail of my task, though Gondor should perish, if anything passes through this night that can still grow fair or bear fruit and flower again in days to come.” The Quest of the Ring is not simply about Men and Elves and Hobbits; it is about ponies, and the trees of Fangorn, and tiny sun-star flowers in the grass, and yes, a fox on business of his own who never finds out anything more about the three hobbits he once saw sleeping under a tree, but lives and thrives because of what they did.

Eldacar of Gondor:

The twenty-first King of Gondor, also known as Vinitharya. During his reign the conflict known as the Kin-strife occurred and he was forced from his throne for ten years.

The blorbo of all time actually. He’s the protagonist of one of the most interesting stories in the LoTR appendices, the Kin-strife, and everything about his life story is so fascinating! His father was the crown prince of Gondor and his mother was the princess of Rhovanion so not a Númenorean. As a result all the racist nobles of Gondor made noises about how Eldacar was of “lesser race” and wouldn’t live as long as a “true Dúnadan”. One of the most fascinating examples of fantasy racism in Tolkien’s works imo – the bigotry is awful but the bigots have a shield to hide behind! Obviously their concerns are actually valid because they just don’t want their king to die young! (Their concerns aren’t valid. But I think the worldbuilding here is great.) Anyway Eldacar was born in Rhovanion and given the birth-name Vinitharya, but when he returned to Gondor aged five he was obliged to take up the Quenya name Eldacar, presumably to pacify all the racists in Gondor. He’s the EMBODIMENT of mixed-race/immigrant child trauma my beloved. Eventually his father died and he ascended to the throne of Gondor, but then his shitty second cousin Castamir (all my homies hate Castamir he’s the worst) started the civil war known as the Kin-strife and usurped Eldacar’s throne. Eldacar was forced to flee north to Rhovanion but Castamir captured his eldest son Ornendil and had him cruelly put to death which is SO SAD. But Eldacar, being brave and resourceful and clever and extremely cool, put together an alliance with his mother’s kinsfolk in Rhovanion and after ten years reclaimed his throne, which turned out to be slightly easier than expected because Castamir was The Worst and all his subjects hated him. And Eldacar PERSONALLY fought and killed Castamir HIMSELF and AVENGED HIS SON which is extremely important when you consider all the cringefail elves in the legendarium whose quests for revenge didn’t really go anywhere at all. Then he lived to be 235 proving that all the idiot racists who were worried about his lifespan didn’t have any idea what they were talking about, as is par for the course with racists. Also the Kin-strife itself has such far-reaching consequences for the history of Gondor! The Corsairs of Umbar, Gondor’s long-standing enemies, are actually followers of the descendants of Castamir. And during the Usurpation of Castamir Osgiliath was sacked and burned, leading to the beginning of its decline as Gondor’s greatest city. Even though Eldacar’s story is, to me, ultimately hopeful, it’s also such a fascinating turning point in the history of Gondor. Also ALSO he’s explicitly surrounded by textual ghosts which is really fascinating. His father Valacar has “children” plural – so Eldacar had siblings!! What were they like? How did they react to it all? And his son Aldamir is described as Eldacar’s second son and third child, meaning that he had a daughter too. Who was she?? What happened to her? He’s such a blorbo and there’s so much interesting stuff to dig into around him and he has to win this entire tournament please please please❤️

Round 4 masterpost