#a lonely miner

[michaeltrevino]

BOYD HOLBROOK CHARACTERS + KIDS

[letmeinimafairy]

A lonely pine tree on a cliff by the sea, painted on a beautiful picasso jasper. Didn't want to paint it over too much, it already has landscape outlines.

[zestyleaf]

this one's for all 3 fans of a hidden character from a gameboy color farming sim no one played <3

[ayz0]

does ren actually EAT rocks or?????

the least complicated answer i can give you is simply. yes

tags for my rambles.........

[steelycunt]

demonstrating the lack of purpose and reckless disregard for his own wellbeing that s is experiencing at the start of this work by having him fuck a blond man

[bilbo-babe]

[layalu]

games will be like haha what if we introduced a minor background NPC. and made something severely fucked up happen to them. wouldn't that be funny.

[proxycrit]

Linktober day 11: rollin’ inn

After a day fighting a volcano, the heroic group stumble back to the inn to take a Long Rest. Unfortunately for Link, his sleep is interrupted by mournful ghosts partying it up in his brain.

(Mineru and rauru were the last of their kind ever since the already small insular zonai kingdom was decimated by a strange, flesh bending plague. A lone miner found the two children, and decided to take them in despite concerns of the curse.

He raised them. When they asked him to help fight the source of their blood family’s extinction, who was he to say no?)

More about this totk au! (It all started when zelda did not get teleported into the past, and then spiraled from there)

Patreon!

[historymakesmeangry]

Dating apps have existed for centuries, the app was just the newspaper and letters rather than Tinder and Snapchat

[ikkosu]

Omg are you into sentinel x reader? I've been imagining a scenario where reader is one of the cogless bot he decided to kept as a 'trophy wife' (but more like a pet) to boost up public opinion

spoilers!!! (Not direct spoilers, but just tread safely in case.)

Pookie I am into anything involving sentinel, (my favorite being sentinel x my fist and back shots) ANYWAYS THAT IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA have you seen the size difference between normal bots and the miners?????? Its so delicious. Jazz was half of orion's size and he's so small djddjdjjedkekejf can imagine miner reader on sentinel's lap herhgehehehheheh and he's holding their dainty waist.

He definitely doesn't see them as an equal but I think he does kind of see them a little bit higher on the list since theyre his pet, of course. Sentinel would be astounded at how they polish their plating, being ignorant and all.

"You don't wax?"

"No."

"Right, so not even a little?"

".... No?"

"Unbelievable."

Yeah, he's um a little out of touch. So, he takes it upon himself to 'take care of them' and 'fix them' in other words, haha lol I control what you do so it's best you shut up or I'll send you back to the mines. Or, possibly killed becuase have you seen the size of this guy????

He could just grab you by the neck and boom, broken like a twig.

He's enamored by the idea that he's good husband material and would flaunt you at interviews with ridiculous, made up stories about the two of you. About how he loves coming home and seeing his conjux, 'crying' about not seeing them often because he's got 'prime duties' as he puts it. Airachnid palys as his witness by staring off into space becuase it's all bullshit.

I would imagine he'd still allow them to work so that the miners get the idea that even the Prime's conjux is working at the mines!!! So why shouldn't they?

But the moment you come back he's snatching you up and throwing you into that bathtub like Pokemon go.

You're not an idiot. You know what he's doing and playing along is better than rotting in the mines. And, besides you always knew there was something off with the prime. Cue, reader having mini subplot of unfolding his intentions!!!

This kind of scenario goes two ways, it's either sentinel picked up miner reader and put on his facade for as long as possible, being too nice but also passive aggressive and showing his streaks of aggression and ego, or he could just pick them up, already showing his true self, although I would imagine he wouldn't really yk show show his true entire intentions

Itd be funny if he fell, heads over heels first. Not because he likes you or anything, but becuase he's lonely? I mean being a prime is a lonely job and eventually he believes the facade he puts on and has some kind of crises around it which kind of makes him a little more dangerous. Becuase now you're the biggest fattest weakness to his ego and he doesn't like vulnerabilities.

He might just kill you. Its not like you can run, right?

[shortfeather]

The thing is there were never any miners. They are all canaries!! They can pretend to be miners all they want but only one of them will ever succeed and of the ones who succeed only one has truly left the mines

I understand why the canary curse is fading as a symbol but like. Consider. It’s a curse, it doesn’t need to stick to one person. It was simply convenient to before, but then the person got stronger, smarter, better, and so it passed. And it will continue passing, because it is the ultimate symbol of these games: that death is coming.

The curse didn’t choose its symbol. The players, the watching audience, the ones behind the scenes all decided what to call it and how to brand it. It’s not on the curse to conform to the nature or player we assigned it to.

The curse is the curse is the curse. The curse is the reminder that this world will not last forever - nor the next, nor the next.

The curse is not that Jimmy dies first. We decided that, and we had our reasons, but they weren’t quite right. The curse isn’t even that someone dies first. The curse is that you will, no matter what, eventually be reminded that you will die too.

And the only way to avoid it is to win.

[spoonguy]

Light Underwater

Pairing: Deep Sea Alien x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 1255

Synopsis: Shipwrecked on an alien planet, miles underwater, you are rescued by a lonely alien.

Content Warnings: Claustrophobia, emetophobia, thalassophobia

They couldn't get over how soft you felt, how warm you were to the touch, the fine hairs coating your skin. They pulled you closer, flush against their gelatinous body, and enveloped you in their countless tendrils. You hummed and traced a finger lazily across their membrane, watching the bioluminescent trail that followed. They hummed as well, and cascades of warm, orange light rippled over their body.

The tidepool you were reclining in was warmer than any back on your home planet, and the air was muggy and hot, so you couldn't say you didn't enjoy the feel of their smooth, cool skin.

When you first crash landed, the air was nearly too thick to breathe, but by now your lungs were mostly accommodating for the lack of oxygen. You inhaled another deep, measured breath and sank further into the embrace of your rescuer.

Their real name was an incomprehensible combination of burbles, hums, and clicks, but they seemed happy enough when you called them by your best approximation, Qila. They had picked a name for you, also, a wavery melodic hum layered with the sound of a bubbling stream. Their native language was so beautiful, it almost made you forget about the oppressive, dark cave you were stuck in.

Your ship had crash-landed, leaving you stranded miles below the water’s surface, leaving you to watch the oxygen levels slowly diminish until a pair of tendrils wormed their way around the seams of the airlock and pulled you to safety. They had come to investigate the noise, only to have their echolocation clicks drowned out by the panicked beating of your heart. Since they had first laid their 

A few of the more prehensile tendrils wrapped around your waist and pulled you gently towards the underside of their gelatinous body. You were pulled into an air-filled pocket they had formed inside themself lined with glowing fluorescent algae from above the water’s surface. It seemed to do an alright job converting your expelled carbon dioxide to breathable oxygen, but you couldn't go more than an hour before you started to get lightheaded. Qila seemed to pick up on your lethargy whenever this happened and was sure to begin to surface shortly after.

The ride to their cave was mostly uneventful, albeit slow. Qila seemed to be even more susceptible to pressure changes than you were, ascending at a snail’s pace. The view was less than spectacular, inky black darkness stretching out for eternity, broken up only by plankton the size of your fist that Qila would ensnare with barbed tendrils that unfurled with uncharacteristic speed.

Their cave was small and far from any other members of their species, or anything else for that matter. Anytime they took you out of the cave, the only thing you could see for miles was ocean. It was always a relief when the opening of their cave came into view, decorated with algae and various aquatic plants. You slipped back out through their permeable skin and swam towards what could be considered your room. It was closer to a pantry than anything, housing materials that could not be stored in water. The walls were coated in the same glowing algae that made it possible to breathe inside of Qila’s body, but the greater volume allowed you to stay here indefinitely. You pulled yourself up onto a ledge, careful not to knock over onto the nearby cubes of salt, sugars, and other soluble minerals, wrapped in hydrophobic coatings.

You turned back to Qila, watching as the vesicle you had traveled in slowly healed itself, closing over until you could no longer see any break in their outer membrane. Only the top part of their bell-shaped body was above the water; the thirty or so feet of tentacles below them were submerged, well past the extent of your vision. They bobbed gently in the water and let out a series of clicks undercut by a high-pitched buzzing.

Well? A single thought resonated in your head, the result of the translation device embedded in your auditory cortex.

“I’m fine, just a little winded. Give me a second.” You weren’t sure if they could actually understand the words you were saying, but they seemed to be able to pick up on the general meaning of your most prominent thoughts and even better from your spoken words. “Can I get some food, though? I’m getting pretty hungry.”

Wait. Will return. Qila disappeared below the still water, leaving you in complete darkness without their bioluminescence. You sat in unlit silence for only a few minutes, listening to the periodic drips of condensation falling back to break the still surface. They returned holding half-a-dozen semi-opaque spheres, each containing a different plant or creature.

The first sphere held what looked to be some sort of crustacean. You peeled open the sphere and pulled out what might have been an arm or leg, encased in a thick black carapace. The shell was easier to remove than you expected, pulling it off in fragmented chunks, which you set beside you in a pile.

Discard. Why?

“The shell—I think that’s what it is, at least—is too sharp for me to swallow. It will cut up my mouth.”

You sniffed the meat and decided that it smelled close enough to crab that it was probably safe enough to eat. A tiny nibble let you know that the taste was at least palatable, if not a little sour.

Acceptable?

“Yeah, for now. Let’s wait to see if I get sick, though.”

The other containers held food that Qila and you had already vetted through trial and error. Who would have thought you could get food poisoning from seaweed? But the purple kelp-looking leaves had left you vomiting and feverish until you bounced back. After that, Qila had become extra cautious in monitoring you for symptoms of food intolerance.

“Thank you; I appreciate it,” you said after you had finished. Qila vocalized happily. “I appreciate you, also. I would have died without your help.”

Enjoy presence. Alone before. Now partner. Happy.

“Partner?” you questioned.

One to share thoughts. To sing with.

“Like a friend?”

Qila was quiet for a while before they responded.

Unsure.

“Qila, are there others like you?”

Far. Inaccessible.

“You can’t see them?”

Correct. Population too large. Exiled.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” You placed a hand along their body.

Request?

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Sing? Together? Qila let out a tentative hum.

“Of course. Um, what do you want me to sing?”

Important song. Meaningful.

You softly began to hum the melody of your favorite song before you broke out into the first verse. Qila began to harmonize, adding percussive clicks and ethereal droning. The muted light inside them grew brighter, more brilliant, until it illuminated the whole cave. Each note their produce lit up different spots on their skin, only to fade as the sound faded. As you came to the end of the last line, you let your voice trail off, and the echos grew quieter until they were inaudible.

Qila was glowing; mesmerizing swirls of bioluminescence cast warm light throughout the dark cave. They continued to murmur bits and pieces of the melody that had stuck with them.

Request?

“Anything.”

Stay. Here, together.

“You know I can’t exactly leave. My ship is broken.”

Unimportant. Promise.

“Absolutely.”

The wave of light that radiated off of Qila was so bright it hurt your eyes. They warbled happy melodies, only parts of which your translator could pick up.

Joy. Companion. Here. Together. Always.

[thecurlyhairrodimuslover]

I was wondering if you can write a Bumblebee(B-127) x Cybertronians!reader, where B-127 was staring at trash burning, and the reader fell out of the trash chute, and he saves the reader just in time before the reader went in the fire, and we help him build Steve?

AWHHH RAHHH I LOVE I LOVE HIMMM (I’m in my bumblebee onesie as we speak)

I LOVE ITTY IGHHFKDSKSKDKFKFKFIGIG

B-127 x cybertronian! Reader

Spoilers for Transformers One if you haven’t seen it. 

gnreader, mentions death, injuries, and angst, not edited.

"I don't want to go back up there, anyway..."

I listened to Chihiro and Ocean Eyes while making this lol.  

You were a miner. A very low-ranking miner. 

You had tried to be happy. Sometimes it didn't work.

You always ended up frowning, doing your job.

You had a [Preferred paint color] paint job and were always covered in scratches or dirt. It was rough. It was so rough. 

You were always tired, always looking pitiful. You didn’t know why you did. You were working towards saving Cybertron. 

You weren’t treated with much respect. You were always being taken advantage of. By anyone. The bots who worked aside you, your superiors, everyone. It seems cliche, but it does.

Doesn’t everyone get stepped on, especially in this environment? Well, you could argue yes, but it sure was damn different.  

You already had a dangerous job, and felt so invisible and treated with such disregard. You were by yourself, always by yourself. 

Sometimes, on little breaks, you thought to yourself. You thought to yourself a lot; Too much for a little ol’ bot with a low-ranked job. It was hard to find your reason in life and who you were. 

 Sometimes you’d question why you had no cog or were not of high rank. You’d question why you even had to mine for Energon anyway. Why were you always mining for it? It was hours on end.

No sleep sometimes. Barely, if you’re lucky. 

One day, you were working on putting packages and boxes together to send to the other bots to put on the transport.

You were leaning over the edge of the conveyor belt, even though you shouldn't have, to make sure some of the packages were sealed correctly. It is true that some slack and rush, and don't even check if it's right or corrected.

something had happened in which all the bots had to evacuate for something.

You tried getting up from leaning over the edge, but instead, you got shoved and pushed.

You had fallen in. It happened so fast. It's like you fell sideways but you went downward.

You or anybody else didn't have time to react. Did they even care? Probably not. Maybe some did.

You hit the side of your helm and it felt like you blacked out. You blacked out on what seemed like the conveyor belt to the...To the trash chute!?

You were barely even conscious. You really just look up and then close your eyes. You couldn't think much about anything. All of this happened too fast. You felt a cold liquid run down your face (do they even bleed? or. would I say leak?)

That's really beside the fact.

You did hear "Oh my primus," a couple times from the bots above you, but really it was kinda late to grab you or get anyone to save you.

Now to B now!

Bumblebee was simply watching trash. Trash that goes into the burner.

He didn't really get the point, but at least he could keep this assignment.

Sure he felt lonely, but again, it wasn't like he didn't fully enjoy his job. He could just hang by himself all day.

All B was was just a bot who was by himself a lot. All the time. No one even came down there.

Yeah, sometimes he wanted someone who he could talk to, or hang out with. It felt like hell. Maybe it was. I mean he did work near the trash burner on one of the lowest levels. It might as well be.

Even trying to be optimistic, he would find himself frowning at the trash like this.

( LMAO THIS POOR BABY)

Anyway, he really did try to stay as sane as he could.

when he heard a sound coming from the trash chute, he couldn't help but wonder what it could possibly be.

"Do they just send anything down here now?" he went.

"It can barely fit down the chute," he continued, getting closer to it.

Once whatever was in the chute got close to the end, it came down fast.

With a BANG, you fall on the conveyor belt, limp.

"Oh my Primus, it's another bot!" he said, quickly acting, pulling your limp frame off of the conveyor belt before you could reach the trash. He stopped the machine and placed you on the ground.

You look kinda conscious but definitely not responsive.

He took off his protective helmet and tried to figure out your situation.

"Are you alright?" He tries to speak to you.

All you could do was move your eyes. Little by little you realize you were on the ground.

"Do you need help?" He asked again, panicking, especially after realizing you had a cut or a bruise of some sort on your helm.

"Try getting up, maybe I could help you if you get Energon running through you again," he suggested.

You blink a couple times.

You try to recognize where you are. You couldn't Though, was that really the most of your worries. You fell into the conveyor belt and almost died for crying out loud.

You groan and put a servo on your helm as you get up slowly.

You rub your face plate and look back at it. Dirt, dust, and-- shit you're leaking.

You put your servo back and down and look around. Everything through your optics felt so saturated. It felt not normal. You hadn't even noticed the bot next to you, looking just as concerned for you as you were for yourself.

You could honestly care less about your surroundings or who this other bot was. At least for now. Not in a mean way. You just felt hurt. Your frame felt numb and so did your face plate.

"Y-you fell down the chute..." He began, looking at you.

You rubbed your helm a bit more and looked at him then at where you would've ended up if he didn't do anything.

"Thank you," you said simply.

"My pleasure," he replied.

"I'm guessing don't have many.. uhm options to get back up there..do I?" You asked.

He shook his helm.

"I could help you- with your injury that is. You seemed to have taken a really big fall," he said, grabbing something.

You guess you did. You barely remembered what had happened it had all gone down so quick.

You looked down. Maybe if you hadn't leaned over the edge, none of this would've happened. You were lucky to even still be online.

B looked at you, after grabbing a bandage. He saw you were upset. He couldn't blame you. Maybe you had it good up there.

"Hey, uhh, I never got your name--" He starts, trying to distract you.

You widened your eyes, getting ready to respond.

"Oh, it's Y/N," you began.

You look at him as he gives you the bandage, hoping he'll respond with his name back.

"Well, Y/N, I'm B-127, I work here at this very level...Just me..." he says smiling...Kinda.

You give a weak smile. He seemed sweet. And alone. Just like you.

"I worked as a low-rank miner who packaged boxes for transport," you go on. "Not so different from picking out valuable stuff from scrap, and watching trash." you finish.

"Looks like I'm stuck down here, but at least you seem cool," you say smiling a little more.

He smiles back sitting with you. He was pretty happy. You were a person he could talk to.

"At least we'll have one another," he says.

"It's better than what my life was up there." You say, thinking.

"I'd rather be down here than be up there," you continue.

After a couple of days, a bot couldn't tell if you guys had been friends all your life or if you guys met a couple days prior.

It was funny because, after about a month, you guys decided to build a buddy!

You decided to name him Steve :3

After building Steve, you had wanted to make a mask just like B's.

"I made a mask like yours, B. Isn't it hella badass? I got it from you," you laugh.

He definitely calls himself Badass after that

(that's where he got the name from!)

You both are glad you found each other when you guys did. You both needed it.

silly ahh alien LMAO

-King

[teawithmagician]

Lonely Mountain = Armenia

I have a take to make: Armenian culture is very similar to how I would imagine the culture of the Dwarves of Lonely Mountain.

When you think of the halls of Erebor, images of grand stone halls, intricate metalwork, and proud, resilient people come to mind.

Interestingly, this mental imagery resembles Armenia, a rich and ancient civilization in the Southern (that is important - Armenians are not Caucausians per se, like Georgians and/or Dagestanians) Caucasus region. From the stone-borne proud spirit of the Armenian people to their architecture and traditional clothing, there are fascinating parallels between the two cultures, real and fictional.

1. Architecture: Stone, Fortresses, and Underground Structures

The Dwarves of Erebor are renowned for their skill in mining and stonework, creating vast underground cities with intricate carvings and fortifications. Similarly, Armenian architecture is marked by the use of stone, with many historical fortresses, churches, and monasteries built using basalt, tuff, and other locally sourced materials. These buildings, often nestled in mountainous regions, reflect a deep connection to the earth, much like the Dwarven kingdom carved within the Lonely Mountain.

Examples:

Geghard Monastery: Partially carved out of mountain rock, this UNESCO World Heritage site demonstrates the skill and artistry of Armenian stonework. Its cavernous halls and intricate carvings are reminiscent of the Dwarven halls deep within Erebor.

Tatev Monastery: Perched on the edge of a cliff, this fortress-like monastery reflects the grandeur and defensive nature of Dwarven architecture.

2. Traditional Clothing: Regal, Rich, and Embroidered

Tolkien’s Dwarves are often depicted in elaborate, layered garments with intricate patterns, a testament to their pride in craftsmanship. Armenian traditional clothing, especially royal and ceremonial attire, shares this emphasis on richness and detail. Armenian robes from different historical periods were made from fine fabrics, often embroidered with gold and adorned with jewels, echoing the regal appearance of Dwarven kings and warriors.

Examples:

Royal Armenian Attire: The robes of Armenian kings and nobles during the medieval period were crafted from rich fabrics and detailed embroidery. Visuals of King Gagik I or the attire from the Bagratid dynasty era would illustrate the parallels well.

Women’s Embroidered Dresses: Traditional women’s dresses from regions like Syunik and Artsakh, adorned with intricate patterns and gold-thread embroidery, reflect a similar pride in craftsmanship seen in Dwarven culture.

3. Craftsmanship: The Art of Metalwork and Jewelry

The Dwarves are famous for their skills as blacksmiths, miners, and jewelers, creating intricate items from precious metals. Armenia, with its long history of metallurgy, also boasts a rich tradition of metalwork and jewelry-making. Armenian craftsmen were known for producing exquisite silver and gold pieces, ranging from church crosses to ceremonial weaponry and jewelry.

Examples:

Armenian Crosses and Jewelry: The detailed filigree and gem-inlaid designs seen in Armenian religious artifacts show a high level of skill. These pieces could easily be imagined as treasures from the hoards of Erebor.

Ceremonial Swords and Armor: Historical Armenian weaponry, including richly adorned swords and shields, can also be found in museums. Their craftsmanship mirrors the care and pride of Dwarven smiths.

4. Resilience and Pride: A Shared Spirit of Survival

Both the Armenians and the Dwarves have a shared history of resilience and pride in their heritage. The Dwarves, displaced from their homeland of Erebor, strive to reclaim their lost kingdom, a narrative that echoes the Armenian struggle throughout history to preserve their culture and identity in the face of invasions and displacement.

Armenian history is marked by perseverance, whether through the maintenance of cultural traditions, language, or faith, even during periods of hardship. The Dwarves' determination to return to Erebor, despite the dangers, reflects a similar strength.

Examples:

Armenian Genocide Memorials: These monuments, while somber, speak to the resilience and enduring spirit of the Armenian people. They stand as a testament to survival, much like the return of the Dwarves to Erebor.

Mount Ararat: The iconic mountain, which has a deep connection to Armenian identity, is often depicted in art. It symbolizes endurance, much like the Lonely Mountain symbolizes hope for the Dwarves.

Conclusion

While there is no evidence that J.R.R. Tolkien based the Dwarves of Erebor on any specific real-world culture, the similarities between Dwarven and Armenian culture are striking. Both are defined by a love of stone, a tradition of intricate craftsmanship, and a deep-rooted pride in their heritage. These parallels offer a fascinating way to look at Tolkien's world.

[steelycunt]

i am barely keeping it together with excitement for tsah and u start throwing around words like ‘pride au’ you’re sick you’re twisted

AGH im sorry teehee xx see i feel really bad talking about the pride au despite the fact that i can’t promise it’ll be written but well. i have been thinking about it a lot recently so i do thing i will at least try xx and honestly the fact that there are people out there excited about the little things i write. i am blushing and giggling and twirling a curl of hair around my finger this very moment…well if i loved you less anon i might be able to talk about it more

[foone]

I've got an itch in my head to write a scifi short story in a 70s style about a lonely asteroid miner who lives in a habitat that's only men, and he's saving up to buy a ticket off this rock, and he's planning to visit the Martian colony. See, they had significant limits on lift mass when they colonized the planet, so they took primarily young, thin, women. So he hopes he can find a spouse there. The PanAm check-in counter says "Enjoy your trip, Mr Bowie"

Story title: Is There Wife on Mars?