#and its technically any insect | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bloodblanks · 1 month ago

Text

one umbrella cover two [mr. scarletella x reader] — chapter ix.

You search for a way to stop your grisly transformation.

note: reader is not player (mc).

author’s note: dead dove: do not eat. this fanfiction will contain dark and explicit content, including heavy dub-con, stockholm syndrome, violence, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

In Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis, a man wakes up one day and discovers he’s become an insect.

You never thought your high school reading would come back to your mind after you had graduated, but as you stared at your grey fingers, aghast, all you could think of was that goddamn bug book.

Your first thought was that you were mistaken. Perhaps your vision was playing tricks on you. It was not.

That led you to wonder if you were sick in some way or another, but as much as you hated to admit this, no common illness that you knew of would cause your hands to be both grey and still functioning as normal.

This conclusion then brought you to think of just what else this could be. The only other instances of grey skin you knew were either argyria, which was caused by consistent exposure to silver compounds, something that did not apply to you, or the strikingly ashy skin that all the residents seemed to possess. You didn’t know why you would share the same skin tone as them, but it was hard to ignore the way your mind was screaming at you that you were becoming one of them.

It was slightly better than turning into an insect, but it was far from ideal.

You scrambled to search your body for any other suspicious patches of skin, but to your ever so slight relief, you didn’t find any. Nonetheless, your panic persisted, your body feeling much too hot and sweaty as you considered your situation.

It was only logical to assume that you were transforming for one reason or another, and the only reasons you could think of were that either it spread from one resident to another, or it was the space you were in. The first would be devastating, but the second was technically still fixable. If you returned to your world, you could stop this horrifying metamorphosis before it worsened.

All you needed to do was leave, which was much easier said than done. You didn’t have time to waste, however. Not anymore.

With newfound motivation and fear, you opened the door, before another devastating realization dawned upon you—the world outside the door was no longer the same.

You had no knowledge of what happened; the only thing you could think of was the strange earthquake you had experienced. Perhaps that messed things up, but there was no plausible explanation for why an earthquake would rearrange entire rooms and hallways without any sign of damage to the structures. Not that you knew of, at least.

Shit, you cursed internally, scanning the foreign environment before you. Do I just have to wander around and pray I find the right way? It seemed like it.

You didn’t have a choice, that much you knew for certain. If you turned into a monster, you would never be able to return to your world like normal again. It wouldn’t be a matter of being held captive or not at that point.

You begrudgingly closed the door behind you, making your way through the unsettling space once again.

You had only just entered the first room when you stopped in your tracks, the appearance of a figure startling you. It didn’t take you long to recover from your shock this time, however, as you soon realized it was just a mannequin. It was dressed head to toe in monochrome clothes, paired with a wide-brimmed black hat.

While it did cause you to halt for a moment, you had seen much stranger things and entities here, so much that you merely let out a shaky breath before pressing forward.

“Hello,” the mannequin suddenly spoke. Before you could process the situation, it had moved and was standing right before you. You gasped, every single muscle in your body tensing up simultaneously as you violently flinched at its sudden movement.

Okay, so it’s not a mannequin. More likely than not, it was another resident of this place, much like the severed head you had met. You were unnerved, but the bewilderment didn’t phase you as much as it would have mere days ago. It felt like you had seen a lifetime of surprises in these couple of days alone.

“Hello,” you nervously greeted back, reluctantly waving at it.

“You look ▮▮▮▮,” he stated. The word sounded familiar. You recalled having heard Mr. Silvair say it before, but you didn’t know the meaning quite yet.

“Not understand ‘▮▮▮▮,’” you repeated the word back to him, hoping for some clarification.

“Me perform ▮▮▮▮,” he replied. You realized then that his mouth wasn’t moving when he spoke; it appeared he was wearing a mask of some sort. Perhaps he’s not just a moving mannequin, then.

You watched him intently, your body still rigid and ready to run—or knowing you, freeze—at the sight of danger. The masked entity took out a cup, holding it before you.

“▮▮▮▮,” he stated. You assumed he was referring to the cup as you had never heard the word before and there wasn’t much else he could be talking about, but considering the vagueness of this language, you figured it would be safer to assume it to refer to all containers.

“Sheet ▮▮▮▮ container.” The masked man pulled out a sheet of fabric, covering the container with it. You deduced from that the word you didn’t know meant ‘cover.’

When he pulled the cloth off the cup, you saw that it was now filled with something that made your eyes widen with hope—water.

“Possible have?” you blurted out your question without thinking, too excited at the sight to contemplate it further. The man was unresponsive for a minute, during which you realized that you had interrupted his magic trick.

“Sorry,” you sheepishly mumbled, hoping you hadn’t upset him. You didn’t mean to be rude, but you had no clue how to communicate that. Damn this language barrier, you thought.

The masked magician seemed to hesitate for a second longer, before handing the glass of water to you. You were unsure whether you should take it or not. On one hand, you were most definitely being rude right now. On the other hand, you were completely dehydrated. Your base instincts took over as you reached for the cup, gulping the water down in one swift movement.

As plain as water was in terms of taste, at that very moment, the liquid was absolutely delectable. It was even cold, more than you had hoped for as far as refreshing went. In the back of your mind, you considered it may not be completely sanitary to drink. You quickly brushed that thought aside; you’d deal with the consequences of that later. Whatever sickness you had would be easier to deal with than dying of thirst, surely.

“Thank you,” you gushed, beaming at the masked man. “Thank you!”

He paused again before holding out his hand. You guessed he wanted the cup back, and you complied, placing the container in his much larger palm. When you returned his cup to him, he proceeded to cover it with fabric once more.

“Sheet cover container,” he said, before lifting the cloth away and revealing a full glass of water. “▮▮▮▮ appear.”

You mentally noted the new word down as referring to liquid before you brought your hands together, eagerly clapping in enthusiasm.

“Me like!” you exclaimed.

“▮▮▮▮?” he questioned, using the word from earlier. Does it mean ‘fun?’

“Fun!” you agreed, hoping you were using the word correctly.

The entity brought the cloth back over to the cup, hiding it from view.

“Sheet cover container.” He removed the fabric, and the cup was once again empty. “Liquid disappear.”

“Fun,” you smiled, though you couldn’t help the slight disappointment at not having more water. You were still parched.

But then the magician brought the sheet back to the cup, this time wordlessly repeating his trick. He handed the full glass of water to you.

“Welcome.” He sounded pleased. Needless to say, you were too.

—

You hadn’t expected the masked entity to continue making you water, but he had conjured up glass after glass of precious hydration until you’d had your fill. You had thanked him, but before you could ask him anything else, he disappeared.

You continued on your way, wandering in a random direction until eventually, you miraculously stumbled upon a dilapidated space filled with various junk. You were fortunate that whatever head injury you suffered hadn’t messed with your memory too much, and you were able to recall the path the chopped head—you mentally noted to give him a name when you see him—had led you the first time.

Thanks to your lack of too-severe head trauma, you found yourself at the door of Mr. Silvair’s basement.

With your hand in a loose fist, you let your knuckles gently knock against the door, holding your breath as you waited for a response.

“Enter.” Mr. Silvair’s voice rang out, and you could almost hear the intrigue in his voice. You wondered if knocking was a mannerism limited to humans.

You gingerly opened the door, your body jerking slightly at the sight of Mr. Silvair. Though he didn’t terrify you per se, his height—even taller than Mr. Scarletella—was nothing short of intimidating, and you were also rather jumpy just from the environment. While your journey here had gone smoothly, you were confident there was danger lurking around every corner nonetheless. All it would take was one wrong turn.

“Hello,” you greeted him with a small wave. You noticed the head sitting on the sofa, and you smiled at him. He returned the expression, appearing happy to see you here.

“You ▮▮▮▮!” he exclaimed.

“Not know ▮▮▮▮.” You turned to Mr. Silvair, awaiting a possible explanation. The man began walking towards you, eliciting a small spike of anxiety. To your surprise, he merely opened the door behind you, walking out before letting it close.

“Leave.” You could hear him from the other side of the door.

The door opened, and Mr. Silvair walked back through.

“▮▮▮▮,” he stated. You nodded in understanding.

“Return,” you echoed the word. He appeared pleased, the corners of his lips tugging upwards.

“Correct.”

You weren’t sure if you should get directly to the point or not, but the conversation had died down, and the silence was beginning to make you feel awkward. You swallowed the saliva that had pooled in your mouth before you stuck your hand directly out in front of you, showing him your ashen fingertips.

You were unable to gauge what the expression on Mr. Silvair’s face meant, but it didn’t last very long, quickly giving way to an enthusiastic grin.

“You change,” he said, the words instantly causing your blood to run cold. The temperature in the room appeared to have dropped, your skin suddenly prickling up and forming goosebumps. “Human appear world. Change body. Change ▮▮▮▮.”

You didn’t understand the last word, but you hastily assumed it meant mind, not caring enough to ask for further elaboration. Your heart was plummeting downwards with each passing second, sinking into the abyss of your stomach, which was tying itself into knots. You had already assumed it, you had considered the possibility before, but hearing it as a fact was much more difficult to process.

“How stop?” The words tumbled out of your mouth instantly. You looked at Mr. Silvair with desperation in your eyes, a silent plea for him to have the answer.

“Not know,” he replied, though his eyes gleamed with delight as he looked away from your hand and directly into your eyes. “Me ▮▮▮▮.”

At this very moment, you couldn’t care less what the word meant. You just wanted to get out of here. You just wanted to leave this godforsaken place. But it wasn’t like you could do so by simply willing it.

“Me ▮▮▮▮ you?” Mr. Silvair asked a question, using the same word that you really couldn’t be bothered trying to understand. The fact that you were beginning to learn the language here only made you feel more stuck, more trapped.

“Not know ▮▮▮▮,” you sighed, resigned.

“▮▮▮▮,” Mr. Silvair repeated, pointing to the room in the back. You remembered that room—it had horrified you when he first showed you it—vividly, with all of its chains and bloody instruments. You weren’t sure what the word meant, but there was not a chance in hell that you’d agree to anything related to the miniature torture chamber.

“Not want.” You shook your head firmly, hoping your protests would actually make a difference. If he desired so, he could drag you in there by force; you were well aware of that.

“A shame.” He sounded disappointed. But as much as you didn’t want to upset him, no amount of disheartenment could convince you to step foot back into the gore-covered room.

“Sorry,” you mumbled a half-hearted apology. You weren’t really sorry about not wanting to be dismembered, but you didn’t mean for him to feel bad, either.

“Me not upset,” was his response. You nodded slowly, before changing the subject to something more pressing.

“How exit world?” you asked. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the answer to that, either.

“Not know.”

You nodded, your eyebrows knitting together as you digested his response. He didn’t know how to stop your macabre transformation, nor did he know how to leave this realm. But there had to be some sort of entryway; a point of intersection between your worlds. Mr. Scarletella seemed to be able to leave this realm and return, seeing as he took you from the Ghost Apartments.

“Thank you,” you murmured, a visible frown on your face as you tried to decipher the mechanics of this world. You had to be missing something—if only you could remember how Mr. Scarletella entered the Ghost Apartments...

“Welcome,” Mr. Silvair answered. His follow-up came before you could utter your own words. “Goodbye.”

You forced a small smile, waving at both him and the chopped head. For a brief moment, you remembered that you had wanted to give him a name, too. However, you weren’t in the mood to do so right now, and it wasn’t like you wanted to stay for long enough to even use the name again.

“Goodbye.” You kept the small, saccharine smile on your face as you turned to the door behind you, opening it and walking through.

As you walked back up the stairs, you could hear the heavy door shutting slowly behind you, closing with a small click.

—

You had been wandering around by yourself for a while, each uncertain step tiring you out more than the last. The exit was nowhere in sight, and you were starting to doubt there was a physical point of connection at all. Maybe you’d really have to kill something and sacrifice its blood to open a portal back to your world. Or however those things worked.

You were resting in a seemingly peaceful room, curled up on one of the chairs, when you noticed the appearance of a doll that was definitely not there before. You had always been wary around dolls—they were nothing short of unsettling—but the sight of one in this specific, ghastly environment was even more horrifying. Especially after you had found out just how many paranormal occurrences and tales of the supernatural were, in fact, real, you were not about to take your chances with this doll.

You slowly got up from where you were standing, taking one cautious step backwards at a time, your eyes not leaving the sinister figure. Perhaps it was silly, but you couldn’t help worrying that it would jump up and murder you while you weren’t looking. You just needed to back out of this room and close the door. Hopefully, that would be enough to get it away from you.

“What you do?” A voice snapped you out of your focus, at the same time causing you to jump, your spine instantly straightening out as panic shot through you.

For a brief moment, you forgot about maintaining eye contact with the doll as you hastily spun around to see who your interlocutor was.

You weren’t sure how many lives you had, but one of them was definitely lost at that moment. Your heart froze over in your chest, the atmosphere turning glacial and your face paling as you stared in horror at the man before you—none other than Mr. Scarletella.

“Sorry,” you finally squeaked after a long minute of gaping at him.

Much to your overwhelming dread, Mr. Scarletella did not appear pleased with your response. If anything, he seemed upset, his eyes narrowing as he raised his umbrella—oh god, were you going to die—and swung it directly at you.

It was no different from the initial situation with the crowbar woman. You didn’t react in time, only squeezing your eyes shut as you braced for the impact.

You heard a loud crash before you felt multiple smaller taps against your shoulders and one on the head. There were some clattering sounds that eventually came to a still.

When you opened your eyes, you saw the remnants of the doll on the ground—you knew you shouldn’t have turned your back on that thing—and Mr. Scarletella before you, his umbrella back at his side.

“You hurt?” he asked, leaning down to take hold of your face, moving it around to check for injuries.

“Not hurt,” you replied after a lengthy moment of processing what had just happened.

“Why you leave?”

You tried to gauge the expression on his face, but failed—he appeared completely stoic, though there was a hint of something in his eyes. It seemed like concern, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking on your end. He was more likely to be furious right now.

“Uh,” you started, trying to find the right words, realizing then that you had forgotten to ask Mr. Silvair how to say thirsty. “Consume... Consume liquid.”

Mr. Scarletella seemed to be watching you, appearing to analyze your response. You held your breath, hoping you would get away with the excuse this time. Your heart pounded in your chest, and through the silence in the room, the rush of your blood was all you could hear.

At last, he spoke.

“▮▮▮▮▮.” You weren’t sure what the word meant, but if you recalled correctly, he had said it too when speaking to Mr. Silvair.

Seeing as you didn’t know the meaning, you stayed quiet, uncertain of what you should say.

“Me take you,” he stated. He was reaching towards you, about to pick you up, when a bolt of panic went through you, causing you to squirm out of his reach.

“No!” you protested, before realizing you weren’t speaking the right language. “Cannot take!”

Mr. Scarletella appeared surprised, but your words did nothing to deter him.

“Why?” he questioned, reaching for you again. You took a few steps backwards this time until your hips hit the table behind you.

You stuck out your hand, trying to show him your fingers.

“Change body,” you repeated Mr. Silvair’s words from earlier. “Change mind.” Surely, that was a justifiable reason to let you go.

Mr. Scarletella intently observed your hand, eyebrows raising ever so slightly, before he smiled. The sight of his grin sent a raw chill running down every ridge of your spine, your hair standing on end.

“You my.” His smile didn’t falter. “My human. My not human. My.”

With how cold your blood ran in that instant, your circulation might as well have frozen over and halted.

Under any other circumstance, hearing someone tell you they wanted you regardless of how you are, be it monster or human, would be something flattering. His words, translated into human tongue, would be a perfect line for a romance film, or some sort of drama television show. Maybe a soap opera.

In your situation, however, it wasn’t necessarily not flattering. It just also happened to be petrifying.

“Want leave.” You tried to keep your voice firm and tone steady. You didn’t miss the way his eyebrow twitched ever so slightly at your words, which reduced your courage significantly. You didn’t want him to be mad, but you couldn’t stay here any longer, so you pressed on. “Not want change.”

You could see the hurt flash across Mr. Scarletella’s features, and the hesitation before his next words only further proved that.

“You my,” he pitifully repeated his last words. “You want me. You give me name. You give you name.”

Your lips parted, your jaw dropping in shock. You did give him a name, and you did give him your name, but how those actions equated to romantic—was it even romantic—interest was beyond you.

Your mouth opened and closed a few more times, like a fish out of water. You were lost for words, not knowing how in the world you were supposed to explain to him that exchanging names was not evidence of attraction.

Your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth pressing into a thin line as you tried to think of what to say. Eventually, you let out a resigned sigh before asking a long overdue question.

“What you want?” You looked at him, exasperated. Suddenly, the entity grinned, his smile stretching hauntingly wide. You gulped—a lump had formed in the back of your throat.

“Want you.” Mr. Scarletella immediately answered. “Want together. Me you together.”

“Not understand,” you lied, condensation beginning to bead on your forehead, your palms feeling clammy, and your body unnecessarily warm. You had an idea of what he meant, the knowledge stirring deep within your viscera and causing a sharp discomfort in your gut.

The silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity, each millisecond drawn out longer than the last. Perhaps time had paused for a minute, because neither of you spoke nor moved. The only sign that you hadn’t been frozen in time was the vicious beat of your heart and the singular drop of sweat that slid down the back of your neck.

“Me teach you.”

next chapter ->

if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.

thank you everyone for reading and supporting my work! (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

188 notes · View notes

whimsickool · 5 months ago

Text

RATING THE ENTITIES ON HOW FUN THEY'D BE AT MONOPOLY:

1. The Flesh - 1/10, wont stop trying to use severed body parts as its player token, houses, and hotels. This would be fine if they werent so fresh and thus staining the board. Brought meatloaf and refused to specify what meat was actually involved. We agreed to order pizza instead.

2. The Desolation - 4/10, is a sore loser and barely wants to play as intended. It mostly keeps trying to flip the damn board and when finally realizing its temper tantrum won't work, they just give all their assets to one player to tilt the game unfavorably like a dick.

3. The Lonely - 5/10, didn't show up on time, didn't play, and mostly sat on the couch for all of game night watching reruns of Golden Girls. This is due to the lonely feeling one gets when realizing you'll never have friends like The Golden Girls. They still get a point for watching though.

4. The Dark - 2/10, at first they just kept flipping off the lights which made it hard to play but when The Desolation suggested candles (the only helpful thing they did all evening) The Dark responded by leaking dark water all over which got the money and chance/community cards wet.

5. The Spiral - 6/10, just enjoyed going around and around and around on the board, sorta played? Mostly lied about how much money they had or owed or what chance/community card they pulled. This was because, "math is for losers." Thus, they did whatever they could to quickly get back to going around and around the board.

6. The Vast - 4/10, played the game, didnt perform any antics, but they kept pointing out their vast amount of wealth after getting hotels on the first row. Points lost for being a prick. I will say, from time to time, I would get the over whelming feeling that I was falling. This wasn't a large issue until it happened to The Spiral and suddenly no one can seem to find the bathroom in petty revenge.

7. The Slaughter - 0/10, killed the pizza man. This provided two major headaches: a deadbody to deal with and the pizza being ruined from being dropped. Luckily, The Flesh found use for the dead body. As for dinner, we resorted to just munching on the snacks. Also, its really uncomfortable being threatened whenever they happen to land on your property and owe you rent.

8. The Corruption - 3/10, always brings rotten snacks covered in mold. Uses live bugs for pieces which aside from being gross is just not effective cause they dont stay still. How can I recall that their property has three houses when the peices are crawling on my wall? I also just think it is common courtesy to shower before coming over to game night.

9. The Hunt - 8/10, overly competitive but focused on the game and largely helped wrangle the others. Did keep making references to Wolf of Wall Street though which got old quick. It is worth mentioning that they also talked alot about their various hunting trips and buddies which was fine at first until they started describing a recent hunt that I think may have been my coworker who went missing last week.

10. The Eye - 2/10, cheater. Fucking. Cheater. I didn't even know you could cheat that many ways in Monopoly. Also they brought the lead pipe from a Cluedo board as their game piece and kept giggling when I asked why. Further, it is rude to pressure a trade deal by use of blackmailing. Had a lengthy argument about how technically you dont have to draw from the top of the Chance and Community Chest pile

11. The Buried - 8/10, dirt everywhere and I can't be certain but I think they made my chairs smaller? Maybe it was the table? I felt far too close to everyone. I will say they did mostly play the game but you will feel buried beneath your debt after landing on their property which... now that i think about it.. why was their rent so high? That can't be right..

12. The Web - 7/10, much like insects spiders are NOT a suitable game piece. Didn't technically cheat but managed to get ridiculous trade deals from everyone, especially The Spiral. The Desolation gave all their assests to The Eye to screw over The Web but.. to be honest the game is still going and I.. is it possible to have a stalemate in monopoly?

13. The End - 9/10, played the game but kept saying we should up the stakes by having losers die. I explained that this was the sort of game where if it goes on long enough, death is actually the preferred alternative. They understood and got really quiet for awhile. I think they are to blame for why I'm up past my bedtime. I'm growing afraid they'll all still be playing by next week.

14. The Stranger - 6/10, tried to pretend they were my mom. I know they arent my mom. So they taunted me bu saying they were my dad. This was effective as I don't know my dad. Asshole move. Also, would not stop commenting how dry my skin looked. Other than that, yeah actually played the game!

15. The Extinction - 0/10, when it was finally time for everyone to leave we all learned why Extinction had not shown up. Bad news, the outside world has been nuked. The good news is that I don't think I have to pay rent anymore. Or go to work. Oh god. What do I do about groceries?

318 notes · View notes

needle-thread-thimble-spear · 2 months ago

Text

Fig 1: A Pinboard (credit)

I really love model animals. I guess the technical term would be "zoomorphism", but that term is entirely too broad for what I really want to talk about. What I'm interested in are zoomorphic objects that are *intentionally* trying to trick your brain into thinking that this is a living creature. Take the hexbug.

youtube

Fig 2: Hexbugs in an Artificial Habitat

Hexbugs, like these ones which rely on vibration and gravity to move, are built to simulate the movement of small insects. And they do a pretty good job of doing that! Its pretty easy to imagine when you look at them that they are living animals. What I think is even more interesting are pokemon.

Fig 3: A Bug

Pokemon, at the end of the day, are a suite of numbers with attendant interpretive text and a sprite/model. Especially in older games with computerized cries and no or limited animations, an individual pokemon is a very abstract idea of a living creature. A number of them also more broadly resemble objects or people than they do animals. But even when I'm playing an older pokemon game, my brain often puts the pokemon i encounter and catch in a similar category to insects. Lots of pokemon are insects, but most of them aren't, and still this is the place that my brain puts them in. Think about it.

theyre small

you catch them with a small device (in the game and in a meta sense)

youre encouraged to collect them and store them in boxes

they have genes and can be selectively bred over the course of days or weeks rather than years

they frequently have strict habitat requirements and may be difficult to observe (most insects are highly specialized)

their cries, animations, and "moves" are highly repetitive and stereotype

While the setting and narrative of the game and associated media tries to get you to look at pokemon more like an anthropomorphic dog or cat, the way the games encourage you to interact with them is still fundamentally linked to Mr. Tajiri's initial inspiration of insect collecting, at least to me.

Fig 4: Field Entomology Equipment

I'm not sure this post has any real thesis except the following-

People are good at interpreting objects as animals with only light suggestion or resemblance

Intentional Artificial Animals, as a category, are fascinating

Pokemon should be considered a group of artificial insects

I might write more about this later but anyway. Pokemon are bugs

#spinning #sun moon and stars #qwerty #between #pokemon

98 notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 9 months ago

Text

Bugman-

Picrew used (X)

Its real name is technically Benjiman, but it doesn't reply to that name the first few tries thinking your talking to someone else.

A shy, quiet....person(?) with a love for insects, but is just as much terrified of them.

Only eats things that are bug shaped, themed, or named. Favorite snacks are ants on a log and boba made to look like the eggs of an apple snail. Give it any normal to eat/drink and it will surely refuse unless you slap "bug" onto it's name.

Does not like when people look at its back.

Often makes a humming/buzzing noise with its mouth when it is not speaking.

Sleeps in a sleeping bag. Reminds it of its cocoon

Stares at its darling frequently. If eye contact is made Bugman can/will not move until they blink or look away first.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere oc #bugman my oc

207 notes · View notes

metamatar · 5 months ago

Text

In 1975, civilian nuclear technology was part of a worldwide strategy to bring the Organization of Petroleum-Exporting Countries (OPEC) to heel. That body’s power seemed unprecedented, given that most of its countries were historically impoverished or “backward” peoples. [...]

Many developing countries did adopt nuclear technologies, often with crucial parts of their national infrastructures relying on American and European expertise, equipment, and fuel. Rather than seeing liberation from nature, such countries faced renewed forms of dependence. Iran certainly never gained reliable access to uranium and did not become the economic miracle envisioned by Ansari back in 1975. Instead of lifting up the poorer nations of the world, the global nuclear order seemed structured in ways reminiscent of the colonial era. The most heated debates within the IAEA pitted the nuclear weapons states against the so-called LDCs—less developed countries. The agency never became a storehouse for fission products. Instead, one of its primary functions was to monitor an arms control treaty—the Treaty 4 on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons. By the end of the century, the IAEA was referred to as a “watchdog,” known for its cadre of inspectors. In 2003, IAEA inspections were crucial talking points in public debates about the invasion of Iraq by the United States [...] evidence gathered over the years by the agency created for the peaceful atom was being interpreted by the United States government as justification for military intervention. [...]

Focusing only on arms control glosses over the domestic politics of nuclear programs, particularly the role of high technology as symbols of state power and legitimacy. But it also does not square with what scholars of the Cold War have been pointing out for decades—that governments, especially the United States, deployed science and technology as diplomatic tools, to achieve feats of prestige, to shape business arrangements, to conduct clandestine surveillance, or to bind countries together with technical assistance programs. Poorer countries’ dreams of modernization, of using advanced technology to escape hunger, poverty, and the constraints of nature—these were the stock-in-trade of US diplomacy. Why, then, should we imagine that the promises connected to peaceful uses of atomic energy were any less saturated with geopolitical maneuvers and manipulation? [...]

American officials in the late 1940s and early 1950s were very worried that commercial nuclear power would siphon off supplies of uranium and monazite needed for the weapons arsenal. So they explicitly played down the possibility of electricity generation from atomic energy and instead played up the importance of radioisotopes for medicine and agriculture—because such radioisotopes were byproducts of the US weapons arsenal and did not compete with it. The kinds of technologies promoted in the developing world by the United States, the USSR, and Europeans thus seemed neocolonial, keeping the former colonies as sites of resource extraction—a fact noticed, and resented, by government officials in India, Brazil, and elsewhere. Mutation plant breeding, irradiation for insect control or food sterilization, and radioisotope studies in fertilizer—these were oriented toward food and export commodities and public health, problems indistinguishable from those of the colonial era. These were not the same kinds of technologies embraced by the global North, which focused on electricity generation through nuclear reactors, often as a hedge against the rising political power of petroleum-producing states in the Middle East. By the mid-1960s and 1970s, the United States and Europe did offer nuclear reactors even to some of the most politically volatile nations, as part of an effort to ensure access to oil. Convincing petroleum suppliers of their dire future need for nuclear reactors was part of a strategy to regain geopolitical leverage. Despite the moniker “peaceful atom,” these technologies were often bundled in trade deals with fighter jets, tanks, and other military hardware [...]

By the close of the century, two competing environmental narratives were plainly in use. One was critical of atomic energy, drawing on scientific disputes about the public health effects of radiation, the experience of nuclear accidents such as Three Mile Island (1979) and Chernobyl (1986), or the egregious stories of public health injustice—including negligence in protecting uranium miners or the wanton destruction and contamination of indigenous peoples’ homelands. In contrast was the narrative favored by most governments, depicting nuclear technology in a messianic role, promising not only abundant food, water, and electricity, but also an end to atmospheric pollution and climate change. [...]

As other scholars have noted, the IAEA tried to maintain a reputation of being primarily a technical body, devoid of politics. But it had numerous political uses. For example, it was a forum for intelligence gathering, as routinely noted by American Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) documents. It also outmaneuvered the World Health Organization and Food and Agriculture Organization in the early 1960s and was able to assert an authoritative voice playing down public health dangers from atomic energy. Further, it provided a vehicle for countries to stay engaged in atomic energy affairs even if they did not sign on to the non-proliferation treaty—India, Pakistan, and Israel most notably. It provided apartheid-era South Africa with a means of participating in international affairs when other bodies ousted it because of its blatantly racist policies. By the same token, it gave the Americans and Europeans political cover for continuing to engage with South Africa, an important uranium supplier.

Introduction to The Wretched Atom, Jacob Hamlin

#jacob hamlin #nuclear power #readings

95 notes · View notes

bogleech · 1 year ago

Note

i keep wanting to draw anthro maggots but they end up looking like beetle larvae instead- any ideas on how one might stylize a maggot person to make it a little more distinctly A Maggot? it's especially hard to me bc maggots are like THE MOST featureless insect larvae.... which i suppose counts as a defining feature in and of itself- but i dunno. im mostly just curious to hear your approach!!!

Yeah beetle grubs, caterpillars and a lot of other insect larvae have armored heads with complete jaws structures as well as six little legs, plus they often have a defined looking "top" and "bottom" with ridged and wrinkles almost like they got soft armored down their back

But maggots are weird! They streamlined EVERYTHING down to where they have no legs at all, not even vestigial ones, and their body segments almost evolved towards something like radial symmetry by being the same all the way around!

Then there's the fact that they sort of lost most of a "head." Not only is there no exoskeletal cranial case (bug skull) to protect it but there are no jaws and never any eyes; there's just a little hole for drinking liquefied food, a pair of tusk-like hooks for gripping surfaces, and a pair of eye-like knobs that are actually chemosensory (noses)

The weird, tiny walrus-face is totally unique! They don't have any chewing mouthparts because they only need to "drink" the particles of rotting matter they live on, and like adult flies, they help this along by secreting digestive enzymes!

Maggots also have these very distinct, furry looking bands at every segment, which help them grip surfaces like a tire tread or the sole of a shoe. If you compare this photo with the one above you'll also notice how the segments can retract in and out like a telescope!

The last special thing about common maggot anatomy is that they are technically semi-aquatic animals, because maggots evolved to be buried head-first completely in their own food as much as possible and rotten corpses are WET. In order to breathe, maggots have a pair of breathing spiracles on their rear ends, which they try to keep exposed to the air!

There are exceptions to all of this, though; there are species that can be fully aquatic, fully terrestrial, herbivorous, parasitic or predatory, and some ancient fly groups (including mosquitoes!) whose larvae still have fully armored heads and even eyes. Everything above is universal to the maggots you find in rotten stuff though, so what most people think of when they hear the term :) When I designed a hybrid human and blowfly maggot for the Mortasheen setting I deliberately made it look like a doofy cartoon Walrus, and I gave its segments large spines that can be seen in some parasitic maggots, including botflies:

And when I made a maggot character for my webcomic Awful Hospital I designed her like a little spacesuit or a parka (the resemblance to Kenny was an accident)

Actually I don't think I ever shared this most recent "main artwork" of Maggie. I don't know what idea inspiration any of this might provide but basically a maggot is a prickly living sock with fangs. Or I guess from a design and engineering perspective, a maggot is a biological drill. The tiny end starts a hole, the rest of the body is just a flaring cone perfectly equipped to keep making the hole deeper.

#biology #animals #nature #science

391 notes · View notes

cuddles-with-dragons · 1 year ago

Text

Fives: We need to distract these guys. Echo: Leave it to me. Echo: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Anakin & Rex: *immediately begin arguing*

Rex: What's gone wrong, Fives? Fives: Hey! That’s one hell of a thing to say to a person. Just because I’m calling doesn’t mean there’s a crisis. Rex: That’s technically true, I suppose. Why are you calling? Fives: Well... There’s a crisis.

Anakin: *sees someone doing something stupid* Anakin: What an idiot. Anakin: *realizes it's Ahsoka* Anakin: Wait, that's MY idiot!

Ahsoka: I hate to disagree with you, but- Anakin: Please, you love to disagree with me. Its your favorite thing to do.

Anakin: Wanna hear some dark humor. Rex: Yeah, I love dark humor. Anakin: Alright. Anakin: *Turns off the lights* Anakin: Knock knock. Rex: Turn the damn lights back on.

Rex: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Fives: Mine just says "Fives no." Rex: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single speeder bike. Fives, with Echo and Rex behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?! Police: Yes…three. Fives: Oh, my God— What the fuck!? Police: Wha- Fives: Cody FUCKING FELL OFF!

Rex: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

Echo: Fives! Rex got that thing on the control panel working! Fives: Wow! That looks pretty impressive. Echo: Yeah! Fives: Any idea what it does? Echo: Not a clue.

Cody, answering his comm: Hello? Rex: It’s Rex. Cody: What did he do this time? Rex: No, it’s me, Rex. It’s actually me. Cody: What did you do this time?

Obi-Wan: Everyone, calm down! We're grown-ups, let's deal with this like adults! Anakin: So, we're just going to wing it and hope for the best? Obi-Wan: Obviously. Now, Ahsoka, pass the shovel.

Police Officer: You have the right to remain silent. Fives: I choose to waive that right! Fives: *screaming*

#anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka #captain rex #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #commander cody #501st shenanigans #the clone wars #tcw incorrect quotes #501st chaos

383 notes · View notes

jellielover · 13 days ago

Text

CORRU OBERBER???

CASTE AND FUNCTION

my main assumption is that the 4 castes originated as specialization for different roles in a hive, such as tir with acid for expansion and kiv for guarding. This does seem to have literal biological implications, those being different abilities that different castes have and the different receptor shapes that they have. More on this later…

if we're really getting into it (sociology major voice) then the closest allegory imo is sex vs gender, where we assign certain physical traits as belonging to a certain sex and then the social roles accompanying those as genders, so caste is probably both a physical thing (tirs with acid and hand-shaped receptors) and a social thing (tirs being kind). I do think there are physical aspects but i wouldn't be surprised if caste implies both a biological and social aspect. Perhaps sex is treated as a medical fact that has no bearing on social gender roles, and so the concept of gender ceases to exist because gender is a social construct, so with no social importance it has no meaning. Translating this to caste, the Obesk are kind of like "yeah we have these 4 castes (sexes) but who give a shit?" except we also assign certain traits to each caste, so in that aspect it is also a social role one can occupy.

As for Obesk, they seem to not give a crap about gender/sex because their main social roles would (theoretically) stem from what one's caste does to maintain the hive/cave-city. my assumption is that Obesk have human-esque sexes but put all the social role baggage on receptor shape instead: we get comments like how Kazki and Bozko are both 'vel-like at heart' and Vekoa being the perfect jut because she's unemotional. I'm also keeping in mind that this is all from Akizet's perspective (and unreliable narrator, but she doesn't have a lot of reasons to hide sociological processes).

From the gameplay end, there's some confusion over which character use what pronouns and why and how and blah blah.I'd like to assert that we don't know if pronouns are on the mindspike end for our benefit or what they symbolize to the obesk. Pronouns in english aren't a hard-ball way to ping gender either: a pronoun simply takes the place of a noun. We don't really know what the pronoun indicates for Obesk in this case, especially because we don't specifically see any sexual dimorphism. Being intersex in humans is as common as a peanut allergy, and technically the drone/queen/worker thing ARE the biological sexes of bees, so we really don't know much because we also don't know anything about Obesk reproduction.

One interesting thing to note is that Akizet refers to people with they/them until proven guilty, seen with Itzil's 'partner' becoming 'she/her' once we talk more about her. If there's so little sexual dimorphism AND this does indicate gender, then how does one tell this information?

PHEREMONES

Obesk is known to be a dark-surfaced moon where most of the sentient life lives in caves together in cave-cities. Obesk also have four different castes with four roles that might come with a functional insect hive: Kiv are larger and guard the nest, Tir have acid and expand the nest, Jut seem to focus on building and structure, and Vel might be messangers and do odd jobs. Over time, Jut became the engineers they are known to be now with the corrucystic revolution, being able to 'teach' corru.

The discussion about pheremones originally came from the fact that obesk are assumed to be insectoid, which has a bunch of evidence from how they speak about themselves. They were 'larval' before ascending, and have things like chitin and carapaces. There's also the plain association of the pets and things they have around them, like their dog is a bug (similar to how humans and dogs are both mammals). Obeski also has a ton of parasitization, its a huge theme in the story (especially with secri, zuzucri, and the whole implication that Obesk are parasites of corru itself). Obesk become infected with secri like a wasp laying its eggs inside of a caterpillar and bringing it back to Terrible Life. In addition to this, Obesk blood is always mentioned to be cyan, just like how hemocyanin and hemolymph in bugs appears.

A lot of the evidence for pheromones specifically also comes from the Zuzucri memhole, where they mention being able to smell out castes by pheromone, namely vel and kiv (and tell that they're dead!) and suspecting something is wrong because the unnamed vel has their scent tainted by the presumably metallic zuzucri. Akizet also mentions something about 'trails being dispersed,' which would make sense if they were going from the relatively-sheltered caves to the windy, stormy surface.

I'd like to also point out that there's a ton of funny stuff you can do with pheromone headcanons.

-One comes from those experiments they did where they put ant death pheromones on alive ants to see if they would be taken to the pile of ant corpses (they were). Zuzucri memhole specifically does say that they can smell dead Obesk. Get the picture?

-My personal thinking is that Bozko might resemble a wasp with a very skinny waist, which then brings to mind the danger pheremones they release: they smell like overripe fruit. We know that when Bozko died he was the survivor of a cave-city being infested, and part of the kiv caveguards that had to kill all the husks. Bozko's cave-city post-secri-infection probably smelled like rotting fruit.

#corru.observer #speculative biology #EP4 spoilers #unhinged ramblings #obesk #obesk biology #corru.biology

37 notes · View notes

meowm30w180 · 11 months ago

Text

A Useless closet

The mysterious woman picks you up by the back of your shirt collar of your school uniform, lifting you to your feet. Your hitching breath still audibly noticeable as she dusts the slight dust off your thighs as if you're her personal property.

"...your very obedient, aren’t you?".

"..h-huh..?"

"Be a good girl and behave yourself and stay here until I come back. if you run, I'll make sure to hunt you down.. Understand?"

____

when your friends are currently being butchered like mere insects, you cower inside an old junk closet silently praying to any god out there to hide your presence from whatever is out there causing this terror.

Sadly, God ignores your begs and somebody senses you inside the closet. Your heart pounds at the antagonizing slow sly steps striding your way as you await your fate.

Though what awaits you outside that door is nothing in your wildest dreams could have ever imagined...

_____________

A useless closet

_____________

School hours go by pretty fast when everything is so bland. It's the same every day, same classes, same people, same food, same routine, and you prefer to keep it simple that way.

Though, it's hard to stay simple when everyone is jumping up and down raving about the ChainsawMan church. Personally, you don't want any part in it. you like chainsaw man but you're not gonna bow down to the guy and praise him... that's like some cult stuff.

damn its almost 3:00pm its almost time to g-

"HEY Y/N!!"

your knocked out of your thoughts by the high-pitched voice of one of your not so fond of friends.

*God all she does it talk about chainsaw man can't she get the hint that I don't care?*

"Oh... hi Kohana. what do you want?

"Well like, me Saiko and Muri were wondering your opinions on Chainsaw Man??"

yea who would have guessed what she wanted was about chainsaw man...

"I mean I guess he's not that bad..."

"What are you even talking about OF COURSE hes not bad hes literally THE chainsaw man, anyways we wanted to bring you with us to join the ChainsawMan Church!!"

"no"

"wha-?"

"I'm not joining the ChainsawMan Church, don't they force you to marry some random guy??"

"Yea but only if it's a hot guy obv"

"..."

"COME ONNNN both Saiko and Muri are waiting outside for us lets hurry up and go already"

"Who said I'm joinin-"

*As you try to protest, she grabs your hand, practically dragging you out of your seat to join her and your other chainsaw man fanatic friends outside

you could have denied them anytime, with every step they took to the ChainsawMan Church you could have walked away anytime but you continued to walk with them. Maybe it's because they're the only people that give your life a little bit more spark, so everything isn't so boring every day. Or maybe it's because you simply do NOT want to lose your only friend group. Even if they are kind of annoying, at least you technically fit into somebody's life.

you rant on about why you're still walking with them and eventually arrive at the ChainsawMan Church.

unsurprisingly, its filled with a multiple of other people from your school and some random other teens your age, and of course you're among them as well.

Chatting about chainsaw man and mingling with the other chainsaw man fanatics, you find yourself wandering about the chainsaw man church alone. surprisingly decently empty, you expected for there to be at least more people around, but you find yourself alone on the 2nd floor, how did they manage to get this ENTIRE building to themselves??

man, its hella boring here, what do they even do all da-

SOMEBODY HELP U-

"What the hell?!"

screaming, the sounds of the people you just had small talk with, their screams ringing through the halls of the hallway you're in, is it a devil? isn't it their job to kill it? what the hell is going on??

AAUGG-

screams abruptly being cut off by something.

are they... are they dying??

aren't your friends out there?? why are you even asking that of course they are. what the hell is happening down there??

the screams continue and then continue to be cut off, and the reality of the situation is starting to sink in. Theres some shit going on down there, and your definitely not stupid enough to go down there and find out.

ducking into a dusty old junk closet to escape the messed-up horrors down there might just be the better option, even if you now cramped and uncomfortable in this tiny little room with a bunch of chainsaw man cutouts.

the halls no longer become empty as people run up the stairs scrambling into the halls from downstairs pushing each other around to get anywhere BUT the stairs.

the panic in their faces sends shivers down your spine.. this is defiantly getting to you..

you see Kohana among the crowd, about to open the closet to call her over, a swift movement brushes through the crowd, everyone goes silent.

you don't know what exactly happened but you lose the confidence to open the door, you back up into the chainsaw man cutouts..

not knowing what happened you sink into the corner your mind wandering all over the walls. but the liquid seeping under the door silences all your questions..

your heart practically stops as you see the crimson red leak under the door with the dim light making the horrific color glossen under the crack of the door,

your breath hitched and it feels like your being chocked by your own fear.. and the god awful silence is killing you. you've never been this scared in your entire life and your praying your fear doesn't make your weak "hiding spot" known

*Tap Tap Tap*

"..."

a slow sly pace striding over to the closet

you try to stop breathing, but the hitch in your breath is still there making it impossible to keep quiet entirely.

you feel like a bug being squashed under the pressure of a boot, should you run? that's out of the question, your too petrified to even move like your frozen in time. the steps getting closer and closer making your heart beat faster and faster enough to give you a heart attack and practically die before you even get the chance to see your soon to be killer, the one that will slaughter you without a second thought, *why are they taking their sweet time to kill me?? are they playing with me like pray??*

all you can do is curl into the corner and await your fate as the footsteps eventually stop, casting a shadow on the glossy liquid under the door making it dull.

you can't accept this fate, but theres absolutely nothing you can do but cower and silently cry and hic like a little baby...

*creeeek...*

"..."

why are they just standing there...?

the door opens, but your too busy cowering into your knees to look up and see, not that your confident to even look up at them anyways...

the unknown person finally moves forward towards you, tracking the liquid further into the room, the person pays no mind to it. positioning themselves in front of you reaching out their hand to grasp the back of your shirt collar of your uniform. lifting you to your feet with no struggle, lightly brushing the dust from your thigh and moving the hair from your face to see your puffy eyes and rosey tear stained cheeks as you hic in their grasp, giving not only them but you the slight view of looking at their face.

"look at me, sweetheart.."

is that...? is that a woman's voice...?

slowly looking up at the voice you lock eyes with the most beautiful woman you have ever met up close in person. firm jaw structure, silver silk hair, milky skin,.. *is this really my murderer?*

the sweet name she called you made your heart flutter, and then that sweet feeling turned into guilt for getting flustered from the person that killed over 50 students including your friends, your friends.. if she killed your friends what makes you so special, why are you of all people getting the special treatment...?

"your very obedient, aren’t you.."

"...h-huh..?"

"be a good girl and stay here until I fetch you, don't run, I'll make sure to hunt you down, I will catch you..., understand?"

"..."

"answer"

*who does this woman think she is?? you think I'm just gonna listen to you after you butchered my friends and practically traumatize me?? Don't even fucking play with me you insane bitch.*

"...yes ma'am"

"good girl"

...I'm such a wimp...

*timeskip 30 mins later*

this is insane it feels like its been hours you've been cowering inside this closet, is that woman even coming back?? you don't even know her name, not like you care you just wanna go home... its not like you have any friends anymore anyways. this woman has the audacity to try to sweet talk you and order you around?? this is bullshi-

*tap tap tap*

*gulp*

*creeek*

the door opens, revealing the same woman as earlier, the same menacing aura illuminating from her lean body

"I assumed you ran, I was getting ready to go hunting. Good girl..."

she coos to you as she slowly strides to you and picks you up the same way she did earlier like a little ragdoll.

"..."

"hm.. what's your name, sweetheart?"

"...Y/N..."

"Hm"

The woman didn't say anything as she continued to inspect you, lightly brushing her slim fingers through your hair. You find yourself a little bit more comforted in this so far horrible day by the contact, but then remember who caused it.

This woman is too confusing to you, what does she even want with you..?

"What do you want with me..?"

"..."

"Do you want money?? I don't have any money just please let me go.. I swear on my life I won't tell anyone who you are just please let me go I'm begging you.."

"..."

Gripping the wrists that hold you up in the air, the woman sets you down allowing you to stand on your own. However with the dismay of getting your shoes sticky from the gruesome liquid that still invades the floor.

Her 6'1 body towering over you even more, she bends down and lowers her head to get a better view of your face.

"What I want?"

"Yes... tell me"

The woman lowers her gaze towards you and steps closer, you try to back away but a firm iron grip is placed on your shoulder, the other sets itself on her hip.

"I want you"

"What..?"

You don't understand, what is she getting at here,

"I want you, to be my woman"

"What are you talking about..?"

"I think you already know"

"..."

You can't help but wonder what her goal is, and why she picked you of all people, because you were cowering away in a closet and let your friends be butchered? The guilt is eating you alive and then this woman wants you to be hers? After what she's done to your friends? She's just some sick weirdo"

"What if.. I deny"

"This isn't a request, it's an order"

With saying that, she crouches down and scoops you up swinging you over her shoulder as if you weighed absolutely nothing, you slightly squirm in her grip too scared to do anything else.

The woman walks out of the closet and your greeted with a scene that you could have never been prepared for..

Bodies, upon bodies, upon bodies, of headless students that all from together to make a blood pool on the once hard wood floor of the building, the white on their uniforms are no longer visibl-

"..HRrgEh"

You feel like your about to throw up... your stomach drops to the lowest pit of your stomach as you see the gut wrenching head of Kohana, your friend.. lying decapitated in a pool of blood. You might have disliked her a little bit but you would never wish this upon her, or anybody, especially Kohana...

Your disgust is directed to the person your being held captive by and you soon start to pry yourself out of her grip, your not some obedient little wimp

The woman grips your thigh with a death grip, nails digging onto your thigh and tears threatening to break from yours eyes.

"Behave"

you start to silently cry, even though it doesn't sound too quiet, how could you be quiet in a situation like this.. the "quiet" cries progressively turn into ugly cries as you wish this was all a dream, the nails that dig into your thigh should have woken you like a pinch but your still here in this nightmare..

"weehhh.. pleasee *hic* just kill me *hic* already..."

You beg and sob uncontrollably in the grasp of the woman still walking through the bodies of the mangled corpses.. your vision blurred with tears and the last thing you see is the bloody footprints left behind on the floor as your carried away to an unknown destination.

__________

Guilty pleasure

__________

Ouch..

Groggily moaning, your eyes sore, you peak your eyes open from your slumber and stare up at the ceiling. Recalling the horrid things your brain imagined while you were sleeping, you wonder how your brain could have thought up something so bizarre...

"Fuck.. that was a messed up dream.."

You prepare to get up, to go wash up and getting ready for school...

"...?"

This isn't your room

"..what the fuck??"

You don't know how you didn't realize it before, maybe because you were half asleep but this is NOT your room, was your nightmare really not a nightmare..? Is Kohana really dead? And that woman?

That woman...

Is this her room? And did she strip you??

Standing in only bra and underwear, your mind racing with all the thoughts running through your head on the things she wants from you.. rape?, death?, god your so scared right now especially since your half naked and none of your cloths are in sight.

Feeling exposed (even if your alone) and defeated, you retreat back into the fluffy white blankets of the bed. now that your realizing it, it's really comfy.. squirming in the sheets like a cat, you feel slightly guilty feeling this much comfort in the sheets of a murderer

That murderer.. you almost forgot about her, who knows when she's gonna come back into the room. If she catches you up she might do something to you...

You shuffle out from the sheets and sit up on the bed, and notice the window over the bed frame. You eagerly crawl to it, finding your escape route. Only realizing after looking down 8 stories of floors of an apartment building down to the busy streets...

"Damn"

The hope slightly dies inside you, but you still have other options. You might be able to sneak out of here and run out the door. In order to that though... you need cloths. You would prefer your own cloths but that's out of the question, unless you somehow find them.

scavenging through the closet of the bedroom looking for something to cover up your lewd body. It doesn't help much, all of the cloths are bigger than you by far compared to your smaller frame, that woman practically towered over you in the close-

*tap* *tap* *tap*

"?!"

You hear the distant sound of footsteps approaching the door as your currently face first inside her closet wardrobe. as you scramble out shutting the door behind you, you dive into the bed where you were before you woke up. Maybe, hopefully if you pretend to sleep, then she'll leave you alone and you have more time to prepare your escape plan

Positioning yourself the way you awoke, she might not notice you were even awake. Your not stupid.

You shut your eyes and pray she just walks out after seeing your still slumbering

*creeek*

"..."

The woman walks up to you without a sound and stands over your half naked body. lighting pushing the hair out of your face and presses her thumb on your bottom lip, ever so slightly spreading your lips apart from each other gently

What is she doing..?

The woman bends down, her lips glazing atop your lips, soon began touching. Closing the distance between you two as her soft lips lightly pressed against your own.

It felt like this moment lasted forever and before you knew it she was stepping away, leaving the room as silent as she came in, shutting the door behind her.

Your eyes shot open as soon as the door shuts, contemplating what the hell just happened.

Your stunned, you don't even have anything to say, it all happened so fast, too fast.

You sit up on the bed, your cut bangs falling back in your face as you began trying to shimmy of the be-

"Hey"

"!!?"

The woman, standing against the wall looking down at you with the door closed behind her.

Turns out, the woman shutting the door behind her, was actually shutting her self inside. standing next to the door, the woman probably figured your fake sleeping and decided to catch you in the act, and it worked... you never would have guessed a stunt being pulled like that, you never would have guessed the stunts she's been pulling all day.

You can imagine the face you made when you were caught red handed in your act, she probably knows what your up to as well, trying to leave.

You both stare at each other in patronizing silence until the white haired woman breaks the tension and walks back over to you, her eyes never breaking apart from yours

Your too scared to even breath as you stare up at the woman, and now in a lightened room, your now able to peek out all of her features.

Jesus.. And shes practically a Greek God..

Her thin silver hair glistening in the sun beams passing through the window making it shine like silk. skin pale with the sun beams hitting her skin making it a warm milky tone, suiting her well. you can just imagine how smooth it must feel. Though, the sun beams never making contact with her dark dim eyes, err- "eye"..

a black eyepatch shields her right eye from view, you wonder what happened. Though the eyepatch makes her all the more more intriguing by the minute.

The thoughts surrounding this woman makes you forget the fact that your both still staring at each other, snapping back to reality once u feel her eyes cut into you.

You blush as you feel her slim fingers slip up your neck to gently cress your chin, tilting your head even more upwards,

"...mm-ma'am.."

The woman doesn't respond as you struggle to push your words out. you don't understand these feeling you have towards this woman, you don't even know what she wants with you let alone her name..

"Be my woman"

"M-Ma'am..?"

"I want you to be my woman"

"...ngh.."

You never been good at accepting confessions.. or at least you figured it wouldn't be as easy since nobody has ever done it to you. though, can this really be considered a confession...? And she's a woman, girls can't date girls can they?? How would that even work??

You don't know what to say, or at least you don't know what to say to not piss her off, considering what she did back at the church.

This is too much confrontation... it's like when your teacher asks you to partner up with the people you don't even know.. and you desperately try to come up with a reason to slip out of the class and show up at the end of the hour and miss the entire assignment.

Coming up with the excuse your most familiar with to get out of confrontation.. you push the words out of your mouth and hopefully it ends the tension between the two of you.

"...I-I have to use the bathroom"

"..."

"Come here"

"Huh-"

The woman swoops you into her arms and Carries you out the bedroom into a hallway, there isn't much scenery though at the end of the hall you catch some glimpses of some plants decorating the room they sit in, you would have never guessed a woman like her would be into keeping plants, it's cute...

the woman opens another door revealing a tidy bathroom, it's just your average bathroom. Bar of soap on the counter top next to the faucet, a toilet, a shower, typical bathroom necessities.

She places you onto the ground allowing you to stand by yourself, and also allowing the cold air around you to brush against your lewd body, making you cover yourself out of shame and embarrassment.. you almost forgot that you were practically nude due to her body heat from her carrying you keeping you warm, it was nice...

The woman must have noticed your reflexes as she begins to shut the door before sliding a couple words in before she leaves

"I took your cloths because there was blood on them, and now there stained. I'll give you one of my sweaters."

Finally shutting the door on her way out, you blush from the fact the you'd be wearing one of her clothing items..

Your sitting in the bathroom, though usually you have your phone. And since you don't, all your mind can do is think, think about your complex feeling towards that woman..

You feel hot, heat rising up to your face as you think about the way she bridal style carried you just now, how she threw you over her shoulders back at the church, how you want her to touch you again..

A woman you haven't even known for an hour just massacred a group of teens, and here you are sitting in her bathroom wishing for her touch again. Her strong lean figure that pressed against you.

It's too hot in this bathroom...

You walk out the bathroom, and notice the front door in the living room. This is an apartment complex, there's sure enough a neighbor across from this apartment. You could run to the neighbors and beg them for help as you explain how you been kidnapped by some lunatic.

Or at least, that could have happened. as you stand in the bedroom of your capture you spot the owner of the room sitting on the bed, gaze directing its way towards you as you enter.

"..."

"...it's hot"

You stand in place as you lightly pant and fan yourself, she watches you

You stare at her and silently beg to pull out some kind of fan, you both stare at each other until her eyes move downwards

You feel something wet run down your leg...

...

You now know why it's "hot"

You shy away and cover your legs, still silently whimpering, like a shameful dog.

The woman beckons you over to her, your too ashamed to move as the sticky fluid slowly gushes from your undergarments.

The woman stands and walked over too you as she grabs your chin and forces it upwards so to look at her only.

"Strip"

____________

Under pressure

____________

"Strip"

"H-huh..?"

The woman grips your shoulders in a dominating manner and glares at you with her dark eyes

"Strip down"

Your currently backed into a corner while dripping from your legs onto the maroon carpet as this woman is demanding that you embarrass yourself even more than you already are. your so embarrassed in fact, that you couldn't even bring yourself to answer with your voice, all you can do is look down and shake your head..

The woman, displeased, moves her hands from your shoulders around to your back. Unbuckling your bra

"?!"

You gasp as you hold your bra cups to your chest in attempt to prevent her from doing anything else.

"Move your hands for me"

"..."

Your hands sink to your side in defeat... you feel so humiliated as she continues to strip you out of your bra. Sliding the straps off of your shoulders as you start to slightly tear up. Your (sadly) small boobs spring out as she removes the bra cups from your boobs.

"Good girl"

The woman praises you as she tosses the bra onto the carpet, now feeling around to your small breasts. Kneading your boobs that barely fit in her palm, She pinches your nipples, making your nipples harden and now sensitive to the touch. The contact making your back slightly arch as little grunts threatening to escaping your lips

Giving one last squeeze to your breasts, slowly, her hands move down your waist to your hips. She crouches down and her face inches away from your clothed pussy

The wetness seeping through the fabric of your panties, as you shiver from the cold hands of the woman griping your hips. Until her thumb brushes your clit from the fabric, you jolt from the contact and squeeze your legs together.

"Ngh...!"

Your breath picks up from the sudden contact, panting as you look down at her. The woman looks up at you, catching you looking at her and now making eye contact. You immediately look up, avoiding eye contact.

Your thigh gap still exposing your crotch, the woman continues to tease your soaking pussy through your underwear. Rubbing her thumb on your clit through the wet fabric of your panties.

Two fingers pull down the front of your panties, peaking at the wet lips that you tried to avoid being seen to no avail. Her thumbs sneak under your pantie lining and began to pull down on them. Pulling down the fabric just enough for them to slide down your legs and pool around your ankles onto the floor.

You are now completely naked, and at the complete mercy of the white haired woman whose tongue is inching its way to your throbbing clit

Without warning, the woman wraps her lips around your sensitive clit, making a shameful moan you tried to cover with your lips

"MmmMmfp-!"

She edges your clit with her tongue, swiping her wet tongue across your soaked lips. Licking up every trace like a hound dog. She firmly holds your ass with her hands deepening her face further into you as she holds you in place

She pulls your ass further to her making your knees bend, you feel yourself about to give out as you balance yourself against the wall as she continues to suck away.

The more she fondles her tongue on your clit, the more you feel yourself spilling over the edge. You lightly buckle your hips forward into her face, she pulls back, licking her lips as she releases her hands from you ass that gripped to your flesh, leaving little nail marks

You wasn't able to cum since she stopped tongue playing your clit. but the way she hungrily stairs you down, you think she has more plans of exploring you inside and out.

She stands up and swiftly grabs you by the waist and carries you back to the bed, still extra soak, your small boobs slightly jiggle from the sudden movement,

She then sits down on the bed, still clothed, and wraps her hands around your waist and pulls you to her

"Come here, pretty girl"

You blush and look down to where she wants you to sit. She rubs her knee, pulling your hips towards her as your slit glazes her kneecap.

You shyly sit yourself onto her thigh

Your arms squeeze her suit as support as she holds your back as her other hands moves towards your ass and rubs your cheek.

Now, straddling her thigh, Your already sensitive clit makes contact with the fabric of her suit pants, and you jolt from the contact.

You try to sit up to avoid the contact but was denied by the sudden hands on your hips shoving you even harder down onto her thigh, making you lightly moan out.

"Ngh!"

The woman moves your hips back and forth on your thighs, driving you crazy from all the pressure on your clit. Wet streaks covered the woman's thighs under you as you quiver from the contact of her cold hands forcefully rubbing you back and force against her. your little body vs. Her big strong hands are no match and all you can do is take it.

The heat starts to boil inside you and your dirty urges start to seep out from pure lust for more, roughly gripping at her shirt as your soft moans become more louder with each passing minute on her thigh, until the woman suddenly stops.

Though, you don't

Now, you yourself are rubbing your wet slit sloppily all over her thigh with eager pleasure, and the woman looks pleased. Looking down at you intensely as you bury your face into her chest.

"Good girl"

The woman moves your chin up to look up at her as you continue riding her thigh, and rubs your forehead in approval motions, praising you as your needy little pussy dirties up her thigh with your juices.

The woman brings your chin up higher as your pussy struggles to stay in touch with her thigh, she also lowers her head and your lips make contact. Her lips roughly taking yours into a deep kiss as she begins slipping her tongue into your mouth. Now tonguing each other, your tongues wrap around each other as you bounce up and down on her thigh. It's so hot, too hot..

The woman breaks the kiss and stares at you deeply

"Cum for me baby"

You begin riding faster, your riding becomes sloppy and more rough as your climax approaches. Now riding as fast as you can, you cum all over her thigh, as the liquids drowse her thigh dripping onto the carpet.

Your tired and sweaty to feel embarrassment and fall backwards, only before the woman catches you before you completely fall off her thigh.

Picking you up and laying you down onto the soft sheets. About to drowsy off, as you hear the sound of the unzipping of a pant fly and unbuttoning on cloths then hitting the ground in your half conscious state.

The woman opens her side drawer and rummages through it, pulling out something.

You hear the *click* sound and the rustling of something, before the woman crawls into the bed and hangs over you.

You too tired to react as she lifts your legs and spreads them apart, laying them to the side of her hips. You never would have expected what she pulled out of that drawer was, until she inserted the tip inside of you, your eyes shoot open to see the identity of the foreign object.

"WA?"

A big, black dildo strapped to the now naked woman is slowly inserting itself into your pussy

"W-wait! Slower! It's too big!"

"You'll fit"

The dildo continues pushing its way inside you as it stops, now gently pumping in and out of your slot.

"Ngh mmffma'am.. gentle.." you pled

You being too dry is no issue, due to you already dripping all over the place, your hole happily obliges to the strap on pumping in and out your needy pussy.

The woman continues to pump the strap on in and out of you eventually increasing the pace of the movement making you pant and breathless, it's hot, and hard to breath from how much our panting and moaning.

"Ungh, uck, *hic* nghh-ma'am!"

"Breath baby"

The woman cups your cheeks as she continues to fuck your tight pussy as you both stare into each others eyes,

"Can you take it all for me baby? Hm? Can you go deeper?"

"Y-yes mmmma'amm, ngh, I can take it ms.."

"Good girl, you can take it"

The woman plunged deeper inside you, sinking into your hole as your pussy takes it in with no problem

"Ngh! A- S-Slow down!"

The woman rams into you at a merciless pace, as the sound of wet gushing sounds and your loud guilty moans fill the room

Your brain feels like it's starting to melt as you try to drift away from reality as your head tilts back. But rough hands grasp hold of your head, forcing your to look back at her

"Look at me, pretty girl"

You comply, looking at her with pleading eyes, eyes pleading for more as she rams into you at a sloppy pace as you feel yourself spilling over the edge

"Cum for me sweetheart"

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. Not without the loudest shameful moan you had let out as you hit your climax and cum, messing the bed in your wetness

"Huugghh.. hugh.. hughh.."

"Pretty girl, you did so well"

She strokes your hair, pushing it out of your face, u feel fuzzy. But too tired to care.

She rustles around the room, cleaning up the toys, cleaning up blankets, and came back with a towel to clean up your messy legs, spreading them apart and gently rubbing it over your pampered slot. Then throwing it onto the floor while still keeping her eye set onto you. The only thing on her mind is you

Even tho she didn't get too much action on her own body, your pleasure is her pleasure. Seeing you look up at her embarrassed and lustful for only her turns her on like nothing else

"Ngh.."

The woman, still naked, climbs into bed and wraps her arm around you in a sort of head lock position, but a gentle one, while another pulls you closer as she spoons your limp body.

"Mmh, miss..?" You say, sloppily, drooling from the need to sleep

"Hm"

"Whats.. what's your name..?"

...

"Quanxi"

____

First writing😭 hope it’s good

#quanxi x reader #quanxi #chainsaw man #chainsaw man x reader

129 notes · View notes

rypnami · 4 days ago

Text

Theiara Drabble

self- indulgent theiara drabble about a time they see a dragon, feat. some stuff i made up on the fly (hehe get it) about the hebridean black. not beta read or edited so keep that in mind heeh. literally no plot i just wanted to write them.

word count: 1081 no warnings, just fluff and the classic theiara bickering lol. established semi-new relationship <3 idk if any of this makes sense byeee

tagging @amethystandemma since chatting w/ you about the dragon pics inspired me lol

The Scottish highlands are, in Chiara's opinion, the most beautiful place in the world. Granted, she hasn't been to many places in the world, and perhaps being a Scot herself, she's biased, but simply nothing can compare to the rolling green of the mountains or the glistening water on the scattered lochs. Now that winter is, for the most part, over, and spring is finally showing its face, it’s the perfect time to take a long walk and enjoy seeing the sun for the first time in ages.

The only thing that could make the day better would be if she had someone to share it with- as luck would have it, she does. After quite a lot of convincing, she has brought Theseus Scamander in tow for this mini-adventure. They’ve been coworkers for a few years now, but recently it’s developed into something more. They haven’t technically labelled it yet, but it is certainly more than just friends, or coworkers that drive each other mental at any given opportunity.

Where she has opted for more casual clothes for once- a simple white blouse and knee-length grey skirt, he is in his full blue overcoat, the grey blazer she’s rarely seen him out of, and his incredibly fancy shoes; perhaps not ideal for a trek in the highlands. It’s hardly different from what he would typically wear to work, as if they are about to be called on a very important case, and not out trying to enjoy themselves on one of their few days off. He does look good, however, so she can’t complain too much.

They’ve stopped in an open meadow-like area, surrounded by hills and dotted with purple flowers. She flops down in the grass, just off the well-worn dirt path, and breathes in the freshness of the air. Her pale blonde hair spreads out amongst the green.

Theseus leans over her, eyebrows raised. “You’re going to get insects in your hair doing that, you know.”

“Spoilsport.”

“I’m only sayingggg, I don’t imagine you, of all people, want crawly things all over you.”

Hm, true. Chiara hates just about anything with more than 4 legs. Honestly, who needs that many? What are they even used for? “You’ll pick them out for me.”

He sits down beside her, smiling slightly. “Of course I will. But… is this really what we came all the way out here to do? Have you lay on the floor?”

“It’s called appreciating nature. Try it sometime.” She sticks her tongue out at him. “And ‘all the way out here’ is an exaggeration. You can still see the hamlet.” Chiara points left, back down the dirt path, where just peeking over the rise of the hillside, the thatched roofs of Bainburgh are visible.

“Yes, but we could appreciate nature from there.”

“If you’re going to whinge the whole time, you can just go on back and I can enjoy myself.”

“Hey, now, I didn’t say I want to go back.” Almost absentmindedly, he reaches over and starts playing with her hair. “Just pointing out that someone truly in awe of the natural world could do it anywhere.”

“Have a sense of adventure, Scamander,” Chiara huffs, sitting up and crossing her arms. “There’s more to see out here than at a mouldy old hamlet!” She gestures as a couple shaggy, long-horned cattle that meander by. "See?!"

“Ah, yes, we can see all the cows. I love cows. Very interesting.” A grin spreads across his face, and accompanied with the twinkle in his eyes, it would be obvious to anyone that he’s only trying to rile her. Unfortunately, Chiara has never been one for attentiveness to such things- or emotional regulation, honestly.

“Cows are brilliant!”

“Have you seen their expressions? It looks as though they operate on about 2 brain cells.”

Chiara narrows her eyes. “Two more than you have.”

Theseus chuckles. “Alright, alright. You know I’m teasing. I love spending time with you, wherever. Even amongst the livestock.” He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in so she’s sitting in his lap. He rests his chin on her shoulder as Chiara leans back against his chest. “I’ll admit, it is nice to be just us.”

“Mm.” Chiara sighs. Yes, he might drive her up the wall sometimes, but she truly can’t imagine her life without him. “There’s not just farm animals around, anyhow. Could see… I dunno. Hippogriffs, maybe some Puffskeins, or- a dragon?!”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up about a dragon-”

“No, look! A dragon!” Chiara gapes.

Overhead, a handful of kilometers away, is, in fact, a dragon. It is positively massive- so big, in fact, that she can still make out what it looks like rather clearly. It has a massive wingspan with orange membranes spreading between long, finger-like segments. It seems to have dark brown or grey scales, but a lighter underbelly. As it flies even closer, close enough that they can almost feel the wind from its wings, she can see what looks like a large, vibrant purple eye.

Although there is something incredibly unnerving about such a powerful, dangerous predator so close to them… it’s also oddly mesmerising.

“It’s beautiful,” Chiara murmurs.

“It is.”

“What species do you think it is?”

Without missing a beat, Theseus answers. “Hebridean Black. Looks like a female, too. See, she’s got two sets of horns, one curling forward. Males have three, and they all curve back behind the ears.” He squints at the dragon as she flies away. “Her tail is also pointed- a male would have more of a club shape, for defence.”

Chiara stares at him, her jaw hanging open. “How in the hell do you know that? Just off the top of your head?”

“Oh. Er, I dunno.” He runs his fingers through his hair, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I- suppose it’s my brother’s fault. He’s quite passionate about magical creatures. My whole family is, really, but him especially. When we were younger, he used to always talk my ear off about beasts and creature identification…only ever listened to humour him, but I reckon I was paying more attention than I thought.”

“That’s… unexpectedly sweet.”

“I beg your pardon? I am plenty sweet. All the time!”

“Of course you are.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Yes, well. Perhaps we ought to go back inside, on the off chance she comes back around and spots us… I don’t fancy being dragon food today.”

“...Fine.”

#let the tooth-rotting valentine's month fluff begin #drabble #fantastic beats and where to find them #fantastic beasts #theseus scamander #chiara wilson #theseus scamander x oc #theiara #theseus x chiara #fantastic beasts fanfiction #theseus scamander fanfiction #callum turner #newt scamander

23 notes · View notes

transsexualhamlet · 4 months ago

Text

so as some of yall may know I work in my college at the school's costume shop, with higher pay (by 50 cents per hour lol) than the other workers because I have the role of Costume Shop Jonathan Sims.

because the costume shop was moving from one building to another (due to the old one being filled with asbestos and mold+ not having drinkable water in the building for several years) I haven't gotten to actually do any work for that actual position yet. However today was the first time I actually got to do duties for this job, and really. got a sense of how Gertrude Robinson Fucked the costume collection really is.

For scale, the college's historic costume collection has over 1000 garments from throughout the 1800s and 1900s, and this costume collection has been managed almost exclusively by overworked college students paid 8 dollars an hour who each had the position for less than three years and had basically zero qualifications in archival. (sound familiar?)

The costumes are all held in about 100 large extremely dusty boxes of various sizes and shapes precariously balanced in a cramped room, which are all labeled variously with at least 3 different non-correlating numbers and with various unlabeled clothes inside with zero organizational system. This collection is Not Being Moved with the rest of the costume shop, and therefore my job has me, and only me, continuing to work in the asbestos mold building with various insect infestations and several orders for its demolishing in effect.

Um. So today I got access to the google drive which has "everything I need for my job" in it. The google drive is the least organized thing I have ever seen in my life, of which the folders consist of

no longer needed docs for grants long passed

personal student projects unrelated to the shop

LIKE FIVE DIFFERENT NON-CORRELATING ORGANIZATIONAL SPREADSHEETS ALL CLAIMING TO BE THE CORRECT ONE, each of which has non-explained color coding, different accession number systems and box numbers, and dozens of "MISSING" notes

6 or so different documents on how the position was supposed to be run from various past collection managers, one from 2011, one from 2013, one from 2015, one from 2019, and one from 2023, literally none of which match up and all denounce each other

an untitled document which literally just says "9/22/23: everything is messed up and it's terrible"

One thing about me is that within two months I fear I will be hiding in secret tunnels mumbling into a tape recorder.

so my job today, as the professor in charge of the costume shop told me, was to "look at the spreadsheet and familiarize yourself with the descriptions of the clothing in Box 1." The "final" spreadsheet which she sent me and told me was the right one had only boxes. Um. 3-75. It just started with 3. The "old" spreadsheet started with box 10, and a hidden third spreadsheet did include a box one, but with zero descriptions attached to it. When asked, the professor tells me that I should "just treat box 3 like box one" and "disregard the actual box one". We are unaware if there is an actual box labeled with the number 1 in the costume shop.

because we are not technically allowed in that building anymore (which jobs like mine disregard) the facilities no longer comes in to clean the building. there is a MASSIVE earwig infestation in the costume shop and there is NOTHING we can do about it

she literally just told me "if you see them step on them"

....so well, you know what happened to me if I start showing up in your dreams covered in eyes, I guess

#rowan screams into the void #i dont think i can put this in tags im afraid but i believe it does have comedic fandom value #i love absolutely nonsensical archival systems

35 notes · View notes

amenalyme · 1 year ago

Text

rambling about slugcats

I’m probably not the first to notice this but I personally haven’t seen anyone else bring it up so I wanna talk about it.

I realized that as the timeline progresses, the slugcats become progressively less carnivorous.

While spearmaster has a different way of eating, they mostly feed off of the energy of other living animals, with the exception of popcorn plants.

Both artificer and hunter are technically able to eat plants as well as small insects, though they much prefer the meat of other larger creatures. Artificer, who is earlier in the timeline, also has the maul ability, which likely means that it has stronger sharper teeth. While inv isn’t canon, it also fits in its place between arti and hunter here, sharing the maul ability with artificer.

Gourmand gains less nutrition from other larger animals than hunter or artificer do, though in return they are more adapted to eating plants and smaller insects.

Survivor, monk and rivulet eat only plants and insects. While monk could be considered more passive than rivulet, this is probably just the nature of monk as a character rather than an evolutionary thing, especially as survivor and monk are around at basically the same time. Rivulet is however more equipped to simply flee any encounter with a threat rather than engage in combat.

Saint is fully vegetarian (just don’t tell them about bluefruit). Their digestive system does not tolerate meat at all. Attempting to eat a smaller creature like a batfly will cause them to collapse while trying to eat a centipede will result in instant death.

Of course some of these cats can be described as anomalies in their own right, either due to being purposefully created by iterators or whatever is going on with saint, but when it comes to food, this progression does look to be quite linear.

It’s very possible that slugcats were previously a fully carnivorous species, but then evolved to be mainly insectivorous, while also growing more adapted to plants.

I just thought this was neat and wanted to share. Anyone is free to give their own input on this as well

#Rain world #rain world theory #slugcat #rain world slugcat

169 notes · View notes

animatorweirdo · 18 days ago

Text

The Lonely Star on the Island

The weather finally became less bad enough for you to start a fire. However, considering the odds, you decide no passing boat would come to your rescue for the day. You decided to check out Himring's old library and find something that would help you break the silence between you and your ghostly host.

Chapter 5

Warnings: mentions of the bad weather, chances of being found, dragging and burying a dead body, some awkwardness, and some mentions of reader's past.

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

The rain had finally subsided. A small drizzle fell from the sky, but not too much to stop you from starting the fire on the beach. Carrying dry woodblocks and broken furniture from the fortress to the beach had been a hassle, but since most of the wooden items at the campsite were too damp to catch fire — you forced yourself to do it until you had enough wood for the bonfire. Once you had everything, you used your tools to start the fire. Once the fire signal was lit, you kept an eye on the horizon for any possible boats while tending to the flames.

The fire crackled as you added more wood to feed it, even a few damp ones so it would last longer. The smoke from the fire rose high toward the grey sky, visible enough for anyone to see if they came to pass Himring.

You drafted on a page in your notebook, contemplating the chances of a boat seeing the signal and finding you. Thanks to your sailing trips with your father when he was still healthy, you had some basic knowledge of the sea routes commonly used. If you remember correctly, there are a couple of merchant routes that passed Himring. If you manage to gain the attention of the ships that used those routes, you could get a ride back to your hometown. However, due to the weather for the past four days — it was impossible to tell if they had already passed.

You glanced toward the cold lonely fortress, thinking about the last few days you had spent beneath its protective cover. Despite what happened, it had kept you well protected from the cruelling weather and its master was not so terrible as you thought, even though he is a ghost and unintentionally killed one of your brother’s friends.

You glanced toward the sea then turned toward the smoke pillar that rose toward the sky. The rain continued falling in small drizzle. You considered the odds and decided there was a low chance you would gain anyone’s attention today.

After adding a few more blocks to the fire, you stood up and returned to the fortress.

Dragging Brawley’s body out of the fortress, you then looked for a soft spot of land. After finding it, you started digging for his grave. His body had already begun to decay, and you would rather not walk past him and see him get eaten by the insects in the corridor where you had put him. He also started to smell bad.

When you were finished digging, you dropped his body into the hole and stared at him for a moment. You could not deny that you entertained the idea of burning his body so your fire signal could last longer and out of spite for smashing your face against the door side, nearly breaking your nose. But, your fire signal was not big and hot enough to burn his body to ash, and you needed the extra firewood in case your stay on the island was extended. It would also cause some concerns if your rescues were to see his burned corpse.

Holding the shovel, you looked at him one last time.

“I hope you burn wherever you go in death,” You uttered with spite and began burying him.

Inside your room, you were eating a dry travel biscuit, your lunch for the day. You were well set off with food and water, but you still decided to ration them carefully so they would last longer. Since the possibility of being found was uncertain, you already planned how to extract rainwater and use fishing when your food supply runs out.

You drank the last water drops from the waterskin and checked your remaining waterskins. Technically you had a whole barrel waiting at the camp, so having clean water was not an issue.

Your mind returned to your ghostly host. You haven’t seen him since your little fall, but neither have you really attempted to call him to you. During your alone time, you developed many questions you were curious to get an answer to. Since he was an actual ghost, you were curious about what it was like being a disembodied spirit, and you were also curious about his life when he was still alive and what it was like during the first age. These questions had been spiraling in your mind non-stop, and your drive to know the answer to them was not making it easy.

But, how would you ask them without coming out as insensitive or rude? You did not want to risk upsetting him by asking the wrong question.

But yet again, he was a ghost. This was anything but ordinary. It was not like there was a guide about how to be socially appropriate with the dead.

Now, more than ever your aunt and her silly spirit books would be useful. Or maybe she and her passion for spiritual things were not so silly after all, considering there was an actual ghost haunting the walls of Himring.

You shook your head. This was beyond your social skills. There was no way of asking him things without being awkward about it.

To fill your boredom, you decided to go to Himring’s library. The room was relatively in good shape. Some bookshelves had crumbled over the years, and the books and scrolls were covered in thick dust and spider webs, but it was less destroyed than most parts of the fortress. The smell of dust and withered wood definitely indicated that the library hadn’t been used for centuries.

For some reason thought, you found the smell pleasant. You had not yet thoroughly investigated the library and the contents of its books, so you were eager to see what kind of material you could find.

Your attention was caught when you saw a painting on a wall. It was a painting of Himring before the sinking. You recognized the outlines and parts that stood above the ocean, but now you saw parts and walls you had not seen. It filled you with excitement. Himring was much bigger than you imagined. You took out your journal and began drawing Himring’s lower parts.

You then noticed what seemed to be old maps lying on the desk beneath the painting. It seemed to depict the regions around Himring. You recognized some parts through the history books, but the maps showed the areas in higher detail. This filled you with more excitement. This was a golden discovery.

You grabbed the maps and seated yourself beside a table, taking out an empty parchment and drawing Himring’s layout in finer details. You deducted the height and width of its parts and marked the locations of its towers and bridges. In minutes, Himring’s whole layout appeared on the paper, thanks to the help of the painting and maps.

Lost in thought, you didn't notice Maedhros enter the library and watch you as you drew and studied Himring's structure with captivated eyes. You made fine details on the new map of Himring that included parts that had long been lost to the sea. He glanced at the parchment, and deep within him, found it impressive, as some blueprints of Himring had been lost to the time.

Your eyes then gazed over to him and you jolted with a loud yelp, nearly dropping your pencil and drawing over the parchment, startled by his sudden appearance.

“Sorry!” you quickly apologized. “I… didn’t notice you were standing there,” you explained, your concentration broken and your body stiff in his presence.

“No. I apologize for startling you. “ Maedhros replied rather casually.

You did not know how to answer. It was difficult to tell what he was feeling, his eyes still held their ghostly emptiness and even his voice sounded detached.

“I…” You looked over to the parchment and the maps. “I hope you do not take any offense of me looking through these old maps,” you started, ready to apologize, but then you continued without thinking.

“I was aware that parts of Himring were submerged when Beleriand sank beneath the sea. However, these maps and paintings are the first to show me the lower parts and give me a complete picture of what Himring looked like as a whole. It’s much larger than I imagined, but I suppose that’s to be expected of a fortress designed to withstand war and other threats when the Dark Lord still existed,” you explained. “And now, with the sinking, it stands as one of the last remarkable landmarks of Beleriand,” you added.

“I did not know that you utilized gardens, considering Himring was located near the mountains where the cold climate would make growing plants more challenging,” you mentioned.

“We utilized what we could. We built inside gardens that allowed the growth of herbs for medicine, especially those adapted to living in cold climates. However, we mostly relied on herding and trading for food and other necessities,” Maedhros explained.

“Did you possibly herd sheep and goats? They both provide wool, meat, and even milk, and they are also a type of animal that could easily adapt to living near mountains,” you questioned.

“Well guessed. Those are animals we did herd,” Maedhros nodded.

You felt the courage to ask more. It seems he did not mind talking about Himring and how it was maintained. Perhaps this was your chance to ask more.

“I…” you started, mentally cringing as it came out too timid. The words got stuck in your mind and the air felt already awkward.

But, Maedhros only looked, waiting for you to finish.

“I— hope this is not too rude to ask. But could you perhaps tell me more about Himring and how you maintained it?” you asked. “... while you were still alive I mean,” you quickly added.

“I will if that is what you wish. But may I ask why you are so interested in its history?” Maedhros asked.

“Well— It’s one of the reasons why I came here. In my hometown, we only knew this was a former elven fortress, and the rumors and ghost stories around it. Even the historical records in the elven libraries I visited shared little details about it. I specialize in the study of history and Himring was one of the places anyone knew little about, so… I came here hoping I could figure out its history and update the records known about it,” you explained. “Then perhaps I would have finally been accepted into the academy,” you added.

“I am… trying to become a scholar,” you explained.

Maedhros tilted his head curiously.

“Taken how you came here and studied my fortress instead of trying to find a nonexistent treasure with your companions. I assumed you already were some kind of scholar,” he stated.

“Well— I’m not yet. I have studied all the history books I could get my hands on, but I have yet to be accepted into the academy as none of its teachers were willing to take me as a student,” you answered.

“And why is that? “ Maedhros asked.

“It’s because… I’m a woman. My hometown’s academy is known for having young men as students and believe those standards should stay despite my eagerness to learn and my father being one of my town’s most respected sailors,” you said. “In their words, I should be more worried about being a proper lady and having a family one day,”

“It was recently I finally found one teacher willing to take me, but only if I find exceptional material to bring back. And here I am,” you added.

“I actually hope to change those standards and prove women are just as capable of being scholars. Some of my friends wished to study there, but because of their gender, they are not allowed,” you said.

“That is an admirable goal, even though your kind’s standards are strange. Among my people, as long as you possess the will to learn and seek knowledge, you will have no trouble finding a teacher in a profession you want. It does not matter if you are a woman. You could even become a warrior if you wish so,” Maedhros replied.

“Well, that is a trait I wish my people would have. I do not understand why there should be restrictions for you just because of your gender,” you stated.

Silence then filled the air for a moment. You looked toward Maedhros, your mind wanting to ask all the questions you had harbored for the past few days. However, you kept your focus on Himring.

“Can you… “ Maedhros waited as you started. “... perhaps tell me what it was like living in the first age?” you finished your question.

“I thought you read everything there was about the first age,” he stated.

“I know about the main events that occurred, but I’m more interested in Himring and what it was like living here on casual days. There was once a period of time when everything was peaceful, wasn’t there?” you asked.

You then noticed a glint of life within Maedhros’s eyes.

“Very well. If that is what you wish. “ he nodded.

“Take your time. I’m not in a rush to leave anyway,” you said with a smile. He hummed by your answer and you noticed the small tug of smile in his lips like he seemed humored by your answer.

It was the first time you saw a different feeling in his eyes, as he then began to talk and describe Himring and the days his people still lived behind its walls. It was fascinating and he did not mind the extra questions you threw his way while taking notes. The atmosphere became lively as you two were lost in the discussions. Before you even knew it — it was nighttime. At the end of it, you bid him goodnight and retired for the night.

Taglist: @silmawensgarden @lamemaster

#maedhros x reader #maedhros #ghost maedhros #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #tolkien #silm fic #middle earth #the lonely star on the island #maedhros imagines #silmarillion imagines #middle earth x reader #maedhros x human reader

14 notes · View notes