#dwarf metal is so good it just feels right

[pensivepukpuk]

If you don’t know Wind Rose is an epic band that makes ‘dwarf metal’. They’re amazing but the reason I’m posting is because I just listened to a song called To Erebor and it has FUCKING KHUZDUL

[backmuscles21]

Providing

Tsu'tey x Reader

Summary: Just some fluff about Tsu'tey being a good mate while still being rude to everyone else.

Tsu’tey called himself a provider, he was a provider of many things to many people. He provided for his clan, his family, and his home but he’d never provide for anyone more than you. He prided himself on being the best mate ever and being able to protect you and provide for you. You would tell him constantly that he was the best mate anyone could ask for, it only served to inflate his ego further.

However, one thing Tsu’tey hated, you were so different from him and not just because you were a girl but because you were human still. Now you did have an avatar, you have mated with him before Eywa, but you did want to wait before fully transferring over your consciousness completely. You and Norm enjoyed getting to have a human side still. Tsu’tey hated it, he hated that when you fell asleep you weren’t really there with him. Don’t get me wrong, caring for two bodies is a challenge and sometimes you do wish that you didn’t have to. Tsu’tey hated that sometimes you’d sleep in or something and he’d have to go to the sky people and see you. He also hated when you got sick or something and then you wouldn’t link in for a while, he hated not having you in your avatar body.

Like today, you stayed up really late doing some paperwork and science experiments with some plants and you may have gone to bed at like four in the morning. The Na’vi were early risers for the most part, so when you weren’t up at around nine, Tsu’tey came to you. He walked over to the scientists’ tents and metal home base with his usual scowl on his face. He hated being over here with the humans, he warmed up to the sky people once he got to know you and Jake but he still didn’t love being by a whole bunch of them.

He walked up to the metal door, crouched down to get inside and grabbed one of the breathing masks. He walked into the lab and saw some faces he recognized not that he cared about any of them.

“Hey Tsu’tey,” Norm said as he brought his fingers to his forehead to sign ‘I see you’ which Tsu’tey returned out of respect.

“I’m looking for my mate.”

“She’s in her room.”

Tsu’tey stayed quiet, he didn’t know where your room was or at least couldn’t remember.

“It’s at the back, first right. You’ll see her name on the door.”

Tsu’tey nodded as he headed to your room with the directions given to him. He saw your name on the door, after you showed him how to spell your name and what your name being written out in English looked like, and entered the room. Boy, you were a sight for sore eyes, you had kicked some of the sheets off your body in your sleep. Your arms were raised and your head rested on its side as you lay on your back. You looked so peaceful and so soft, Tsu’tey couldn’t help but smile and brush the back of a finger on your cheek.

You stirred lightly, Tsu’tey placed a hand on your exposed stomach, his hands were so warm. Since Pandora was so hot, you wore next to nothing to sleep, your short shorts and cropped tank top revealed a lot of skin. Tsu’tey wasn’t bothered by it, not to mention he liked to feel your soft and smooth skin. His large hand was the size of your torso, his hand splayed on your stomach dwarfing you compared to him.

He decided to kiss you awake, he kissed your forehead then your stomach. He felt your legs move and watched as your face contorted and you whined as you were being woken from your slumber. Your eyes opened slowly and you looked at the blue giant kneeling by your bed, you smiled at him and stretched. You move to sit up a little and kiss his cheek, he pulls you right off the bed and into his lap. He held you close to his large body and you snuggled into him.

“I missed you this morning.”

“Sorry, I was up late.”

“I told you not to do that.”

“But I was making good headway.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry Tsu’tey, how could I ever make it up to you.”

“Be with me forever.”

“I already am.”

He kissed your cheek and you giggled slightly, he kissed you a few more times as you giggled and squirmed in his hold. His large hands held onto your tiny body as you held onto his much larger and longer arms.

You finally decided to get up out of bed, you stretched and grabbed your water bottle by your bed. You drank the little bit left inside before the sound of you sucking in air through the straw could be heard. You went to leave your room to get more water for your water bottle before Tsu’tey wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Where are you going?”

“Just to get more water.”

“I’ll get it for you.”

“It’s fine Tsu’tey, really.”

“I am your mate and I can provide for you.”

“Do you even know where the water cooler is?”

“I can find it.”

“Well, all the power to you then,” you hand him your water bottle and sit on your bed as he leaves, you knew there was no fighting with him on it.

He leaves your room and walks to where all the scientists are.

“You,” Tsu’tey points at Norm, “where do I find the water to fill this?” Tsu’tey showed him your water bottle he held.

“I can fill it up for you.”

“No, I can fill it myself for my mate.”

“It would probably be easier if I-“

“Just show me where it is.”

“It’s back down the same hallway as the bedrooms, but it will be the room without a door. You see the jug with the water in it. Just push the little handle down.” Tsu’tey didn’t entirely understand but he was nothing if not a good mate.

Tsu’tey went and searched for the contraption the human talked about, once he found what he presumed was the machine, he kneeled down and his large hand held your water bottle and his single finger pushed down on the lever. He felt so silly for doing things this way when he could go out and forge you fresh water with no problem.

He felt too big for this place and really, he was, it was made for at best a six-foot frame, he was like quadruple that. He went back to your room and handed you your water bottle, you had sat up on your bed and Tsu’tey sat on the floor in front of you. You smiled at him and took a big drink.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for my mate.”

[jweekgoji]

can u write some Yandere TFO Darkwing x Cybertronian femme reader, who is a miner but Darkwing ends up getting her pregnant and forces her to be his conjux

Yandere!Darkwing/Femme!Reader [TFO]

tw: dubcon, yandere/dark themes, unplanned pregnancy, toxic relationship, supervisor/subordinate, power imbalance, size difference, mentions of past abuse, sickness, description of trauma, hurt no comfort, no happy ending. word count: ~1780 a/n: I wanted to keep it short, but somehow it leads to this. I guess this is for 5 Darkwing fans? imo, he has good himbo potential. also writing for Elita was fun...now i wanna write some Optimus and Elita/Reader fics once i'm done with requests.

How could you let this happen?

The same question runs in your head over and over again. It seems that no matter how hard you try to forget about it, you always see that familiar face right next to yours. Dwarfing you, making you feel so small and fragile. It probably wouldn't be too far from the truth. With your smaller, weaker body, nobody would even notice if you were gone.

You should be used to it by now. Countless cycles of mining, the same routine seems somehow calming despite having no signs of progress in any near future.

Energon, sleep, energon, sleep. What kind of life is that? Was that really all you're good for? Your endless purpose until you break one day?

Primus, why did he make you suffer?

“Hey!” you hear a rough, commanding tone from your captain right behind you. “No slacking off until we finish our job! Come on, keep up!”

You blink once, then another few times, optics quickly concentrating on the wall in front of you. How long were you staring at this wall…? Doesn't matter.

Elita-One gives you a glare; she is too preoccupied with leading her group safe; of course, the mines are too dangerous, and every single wrong move could lead to a series of disasters. You usually have no problems with following her orders, but everything now is just too much. Too much stress, too many orders. You're so exhausted.

Reluctantly, you continue working on collecting energon once again. The heavy equipment makes your frame tremble from the weight; you never once struggled with it, despite the drilling machine being almost the same weight as yours. Now, every single minute feels like a challenge. Focus, focus, focus— you can't just pass out during your work! If it didn't kill you first, then Elita-One certainly would after you screwed her chances of promotion.

You shook your head, as if somehow all the thoughts about the pain—the non-stop aching shooting down your back. It makes you want to bend down and wrap your arms around yourself; maybe, just maybe, it will all go away, and you'll be back to normal.

The soft whirr of your cooling systems gets louder. The poor mechanism overworking itself to cool down your frame. You barely notice how the buzzing sound of the drills seems quieter now, changing into the ringing in your head.

The loud clank of the metal against the ground quickly catches Elita's attention. A frown etched on her faceplate, the immediate ‘...by the name of Solus Prime, what's next?’ she quietly grumbled under her breath, turning her attention to the source of that sound.

Your boss was ready to scold you again, another lecture about the importance of teamwork and how it affects the whole squad—but all the annoyance quickly changes into panic the moment she sees you. Close to falling on your own knees and forehead pressed against the wall as you lean against it.

She quickly approaches you, placing her servo on your shoulder to turn you over so you can face her. Your frame is so warm, no, too warm it's almost burning hot. Your spark beats so hard she can practically feel it under her palm. The signs of sickness are obvious, and she cursed her luck yet again that now she has to explain the situation to the supervisors.

Elita helps you to lean your frame against her own instead, holding her arm around your waist, asking countless questions about what the pit you were thinking, and starting your shift without telling her about your well-being. She's the leader of your group! She has to know everything! It doesn't help with her concerns that you barely say anything, too weak to even open your mouth.

She is so annoyed with you, at everything right now. Great, just great, now she has to— a pause. Her optics widened for a mere second. Elita-One looks down at you with a mixture of confusion and a growing shock. The beating of your spark. Twice as fast, too unusual for any cybertronian even if put under the stress. Her servo reaches to your chassis, hovering over the spot where the spark chamber is. You're sparked up.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Quiet, too quiet, perhaps. The first thing you notice before finally opening your optics. The soft light of the room makes you want to go back to recharging again. Another innocent dream will be a good place to escape the harsh reality, until the slow realization creeps into your mind.

“It wasn't my fault, how could I—” the distant sound of Elita's voice is heard outside the room you were in.

“It was your job to lead the group and make sure everything goes according to the protocols. Just like ensuring that every bot in your squad is in the right shape for work,” you don't have to check twice to understand who it would be. Darkwing.

You can hear Elita trying to defend herself again. After all, it wasn't really her fault. You never wanted to tell anyone about it. But what choices did you have? How can you explain being sparked up? By who?

Now you feel guilty. Shame. She got into trouble because of you, and knowing how hard she worked to reach her position...You're so, so sorry.

You slowly move to sit up on the berth in the...what was this place exactly? It reminds of the infirmary, but surprisingly, any medic is absent today. Ratchet? Lifeline? First Aid? Completely gone.

As the door opens, your optics meet Darkwing's own. It was always hard to understand what exactly he was thinking about when he looked at you. The visor, the battle mask, it seems like every single thing in him has a purpose to make you self-conscious. Nervous and scared. Unlike him, you never had the chance of hiding.

Once you two were alone, he's fuming. He breathes heavily, trying to suppress the anger burning inside his chassis. If you were any other miner, another speck of dirt under his pedes, he would have disciplined you without thinking twice.

But you're no ordinary miner now, are you?

“You hid this from me, on purpose,” Darkwing looks down at you, servos clenching into tight fists. “And this is how I find out about it. Do you have any idea what you just got yourself into?”

The mere idea of him being together with  some nameless miner? Ridiculous. He never planned it to develop into something more. Just a one-night stand, nothing more. He would have forgotten about it by the next day if it wasn't for something, making him think about you since then.

The perfect size, fitting in his servos just right. A tiny toy to play with and use however he wants. A cute one too; isn't this a great deal? The curves, the shape of your frame...if you had a cog, what kind of alt mode would you have? A jet like him? Maybe a car? A boat?

Any other of his fellow supervisors would have left you immediately once they found out. If any bot gets to know about it, he's screwed. Darkwing, who claims to despise every single cogless bot? And now he's having second thoughts about whether he should let you be on your own or...participate?

You lowered your head, as if in shame. There's no fight in you left, not after Darkwing personally stripped you of your dignity. Now the only thing left is a sense of responsibility over that sparkling inside you. You're not even sure if your body can take it. The slowly growing little thing takes up a good half of your energy, and with the energon portions you receive, it is hardly enough for the two. You might die from starvation if this keeps up.

Just standing next to Darkwing is a struggle. You wonder, if he even understands what he costantly puts you through, or maybe he finds some sick pleasure in it. Watching you suffer. Is that what he wants? While you live with the responsibility that he put on your shoulders, nothing ever changes for him. This is so unfair.

You will be no surprised if he drags you to the mines to continue working just to please Sentinel Prime right now.

“Can't even look at me. You miners are only good at one thing,” another taunt. His servo reaches to cup your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

The touch is gentler, not the usual roughness you started getting used to. You learned that whenever he is near you, the pain should be expected the next. That's why it's hard not to flinch every time he gets a little too close. This time, it's something different. Your optics closed, as if expecting a punch, a slap, or another bunch of degrading words?

Nothing.

Trembling in his grasp like some sort of wounded animal next to their predator. Obedient, quiet and timid, the cycles he spent to shape you into a perfect doll to play with. But you're carrying his sparkling, the part of him is soon to be born in this world. It is too late to get rid of it, even though some time ago the sound of it seemed tempting. No, even a useless doll like you deserves a second chance to prove yourself. From some faceless miner, you can grow into something more. Better. A carrier.

He can't let you go back to that place; it would be too cruel even for someone like him to let the carrier of his sparkling to continue this. The best thing is, no one would even suspect you were gone. A tragic event, one of the miner bots neglected their health until it was too late.

Sad, sobbing story, but don't worry, being stuck with your ex-supervisor is not too bad. By the all old rules, it's a shame not to claim a carrier of your sparklings as your conjunx.

“You should be grateful that I have better plans to use you, cogless,” Darkwing's hold on you tightened just for a fraction. To make sure you listen and understand his intentions. No other options but to obey. His words echo in the back of your mind.

The act of profference.

Gifting you a freedom, something you wished for and craved so deeply supposed to make you happy. If only it wasn't the same day you lose it.

[p1nkprincess444]

⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ -ᴋöɴɪɢ {ᴄᴏᴅ} ˖ ݁𖥔.⋆

female!reader x könig

word count: 1,370

contents: 18+, cheating, gore, small fluff, angst

You never intended to cheat, you never intended to ruin your relationship but the way his hands wandered over your figure and the sweet things he murmured in your ear was just what you needed. It was everything your boyfriend didn’t do for you. You still loved König in the way you knew you always would, but he was neglectful of you and your needs, so when this man at a party spared you more than a passing glance it made you feel noticed. You knew it was wrong when you were walking upstairs with this man who didn’t even know your name. You knew it was wrong when it was the man's lips all over your body and not König’s. It was so wrong but it all felt so right at the time. It felt so right when it was his cock slamming into your cunt, König had barely even kissed you in the past few months so needless to say you were more than desperate. Your moans filled the room followed by the sound of skin slapping, the whole experience felt like the first time you had sex, but after it was everything but. You couldn’t even look at the man as he got dressed. He tried to speak to you but you told him to just get out. You were ridden with guilt that night when you went home to your boyfriend. You knew you couldn’t tell him anything but he began to notice something was off, he noticed the way you were eating less, the way you couldn’t meet his gaze, and the most telling sign was the way you began getting sick often. 

That was weeks ago but you were still riddled with guilt, and it didn’t help that somehow the man you slept with got your number. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the message that lit up your phone screen in the middle of the night. König wasn’t so hesitant. He watched as you fell asleep and slowly grabbed your phone off the nightstand. He picked up the black metallic coloured phone that dwarfed in the size of his hands, his eyes immediately locked onto the message, it was the only message that was unopened and the only random number in your phone. 

“ Hey, a friend of mine gave me your number. I had a good time the other night and I want to see you again. ”

König wrote down the guy's number before putting your phone back on the nightstand. 

He spent almost two weeks tracking down the man before he found who he was. He texted the man from your phone to meet him at a park, with no hesitation the man went. 

Instead of the man being met by the beautiful girl he was greeted by two men he had never seen before. König called you soon after from his phone saying he “needed to talk”. 

When you arrived you were greeted by the horrifying scene of the man you slept with pinned against the concrete as König forced his mouth down on the curb. YOu didn’t love the man but the thought of König harming someone like he was about to do was leaving you shaking with fear. 

When you tried to approach König, Ghost quickly wrapped an arm around your waist before clamping a hand over your mouth. You knew König was capable of killing people at work, but this… this was different. It was cold, calculated, and it was terrifying to think König could actually kill this man. 

You didn’t think he would actually do it until you were watching the blood leak from the man's mouth covering the concrete. A scream of horror left your lips as König boot slammed into his head over and over repetitively. Your eyes clamped shut, but you could hear the horrendous noises still. You could hear the sounds of his head bashing against the curb and his pleading for his life, until it slowly faded out. The sound of his pleas were taken up by a disturbing gurgling noise. 

You couldn’t explain why but slowly your eyes began to open. Maybe it was morbid curiosity, or maybe you just wanted to see if he had actually killed the man. When your eyes opened they locked on König first, you watched as he grinded the man’s head into the curb with the thick heel of his boot. Your eyes slowly moved down before they locked on the man, he was unrecognizable, his face and all the concrete around was now covered in a thick layer of blood, you couldn’t even look at his mouth as it was completely ridden of his teeth and was split practically open to his ears. 

You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t scream, you were completely paralyzed in fear until your knees buckled and you collapsed. Before you could hit the ground Ghost’s arms tightened around your waist trying to keep you up as you sobbed in shock and horror. Your body lurched forward as you vomited, Ghost tried to keep you steady as he held you up with one arm and held your hair back with his free hand. You were a complete mess in Ghost’s arm as you threw up while sobbing. 

König stepped over the disfigured man on the ground as he approached your distressed figure. You were a sobbing mess, it’s obvious you were having a panic attack as you gasped desperately for air. 

No matter the fact König had made you witness this brutal display of dominance he did still love you, you were still his girl, he was still in love with you. 

“ C’mon love you have to calm down, ” he gently took you from Ghost's arms, laying you on the cool concrete to hopefully help cool your rising temperature. 

König’s hand stroked your hair as he tried to help you slow your breathing, but after a few minutes he realized you wouldn’t be able to calm down there. You were completely limp as he pulled you up cradling you in his arms before bringing you into the car. He cradled you like a small child while Ghost drove all of you home. 

He had to help König get you inside the house because of the way you were still a complete mess. Ghost pulled back the covers of the bed you shared with König before he laid you down. He helped König pull off your sneakers before putting them down next to the bed. Before leaving, Ghost pressed a kiss to your forehead as he said goodnight. König sat next to you on the bed stroking your thigh gently as you laid there silently.

“ Geht es dir gut, meine Liebe? ” { Are you okay my love? }

You couldn’t bring yourself to form any words as you stared back at him blankly. A soft sigh left König lips before he covered you up before stripping off his clothes and crawling into bed. 

For the next few weeks your nights were plagued with nightmares. You’d wake up in the middle of the night letting out blood curdling screams. König would wake up with you every time pulling you into a tight embrace desperate to calm you. Absolutely no one was sleeping in the house, you weren’t sleeping because of your nightmares and Ghost and König weren’t sleeping because of your screams and sobs that pierced the quiet silent night. You were still barely speaking or eating as both the boys made an effort to help you but their attempts were growing futile. There was a visible lack of sleep which was evident from your under eye bags. You became increasingly skinnier since you barely ate and when you did you vomited it back up as soon as the food hit your stomach. 

It was late one night you laid asleep as König sat with his back against the headboard while he smoked a cigarette. He sat there for hours going through a whole pack of cigarettes while he watched you sleep. He stayed awake the whole night watching you but you never woke until the morning when the sun peeked through the curtains. He took that as a sign you were improving.

[echantedtoon]

Demonstober Day 13 Elf

A supernatural creature of folk tales, typically represented as a small, elusive figure in human form with pointed ears, magical powers, and a capricious nature.

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @shadyd3ar @cherrysuzaku

@nousija @mspurpl3

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

If someone had told him a couple months ago that he would fall in love with the MOST unusual girl that had ever graced his workshop..He'd have told you to never speak such nonsense to him again, probably would have scoffed, told them they were insane, and dismissed it from memory bank forever. Him, a proud master blacksmith of the arts, with a girl like her?? HA! What nonsense...

Or was it?

Not to him right now it wasn't as she kissed him and held his hands and he found himself not fighting against it. What was wrong with him!?

Oh right. ..It started with her walking into his shop.

The sounds of metal clashing against metal rang out loud and clear in the air. The inside of the shop was hot enough to even send a dragon out to drink cold water. Sweat dripped down his body and his lungs heaved from the excessive force of the hammer that he brought up only to bring it back down repeatedly. Hammering the burning orange iron into submission. To be molded and crafted into a perfect halberd for a dwarf client of his. He would've continued to mind his own business if it hadn't been for the beautiful woman who walked in with a smile on her face.

He stopped mid swing hammer in the air as she walked through the opening of his shop and looked at you. Your eyes wondered around the shop and all his tools set up everywhere before looking at him and smiling.

"Good evening. I'm looking for an elvan man by the name of Hatoro Haganezuka?"

"You're looking at him." He grunted lowering his hammer and eyeing you. Noticing the small cloth you carried in your hands. "What do you want?"

"I heard you fixed blades?"

"Yes. What of it?"

"I was hoping you could fix something for me." 

You should have been as beautiful as you were when you smiled and unraveled the cloth in your hands. Revealing a rather puny dagger that was not only rusted but broken in half. Obviously not cared for at all. He felt disgusted at the mistreatment of his and his disgusted face reflected that. Eyeing it before the beautiful maiden who held it up to him.

"What a disgrace. What do you intend for me to do about it?"

"It used to belong to my grandfather but he passed away. This is the only thing I have left of him. Could you please fix this for me?"

He still stared at her beautiful face before scoffing. "I craft actual important things. Weapons for warriors. Beautiful objects that are supposed to be used to defend, hunt, help survive life. Why should I waste my time on a simple dagger?!"

"Please. I'm willing to pay whatever price you want."

Dam her cute face. In the end he reluctantly accepted her request and she gratefully hugged him despite the sweat rolling down his body before leaving him with it.

He felt like he was going crazy wasting his time fixing the puny little thing.

It felt like a two part problem in his mind. On one hand it was as if he was betraying his loyalty to his duty and everything that it stood for by accepting such a measly thing to fix..for falling for such a girl. While on the other hand it was a betrayal of his own emotions for denying his affection for her in the first place. He grew weaker by the day, losing sleep over his inner turmoil. It wasn't long before people started to notice, dark circles appearing under his eyes and his usual scowl deepening as his mood worsened. No one dared to actually ask him what was the matter, but he could feel their concerned stares and worried glances. Even so, he held out, pushing thoughts of her away as he tried to go on with his life. Just ignore her, he told himself. He would feel better once he forgot about her. Just get this job done and you'll get over her!

 But no matter what she wouldn't leave his mind or him alone. Oh WHY did he have to be plagued his existence? Even AFTER you had returned after a month or two with various check ups to see the progress and then FINALLY getting it done with him shoving it into your awaiting hands.

You STILL plauged his mind.

How beautiful you smiled. How soft you were when you hugged him. How tight his chest was when you kissed his cheek in thanks. 

HE COULDN'T WORK IN THESE CONDITIONS!!

He once told her to leave him alone because she didn't need to be anywhere near him....It ended up with him breaking down in the middle of the day crying and all those sleepless nights catching up to him finally. His work performance was slipping, he was acting like a baby, and it was ALL her fault. She wouldn't listen and go away like some stalker. After that he had passed out from his yelling fit and woken up insidd due to exhaustion.....And to her crying and holding his hand. Ironic wasn't it.

And he made a noble effort to forget about that incident, but it was all for naught.

He reached his tipping point about a month into his rejection to the monster. He was exhausted, eyes sore and bloodshot, and his performance still wavering concerning all their neighbors. Lost in his thoughts while working. he heard a single word. His name. That made him stop in his tracks. His head snapping up in recognition, eyes widening. No! Not her! Not now! The last thing he wanted was the she demon to back him against the wall and talk her pretty little head off. He felt like he was suffocating. He barely slept for days. He couldn't take it- The voices were becoming so much his head was going to explode-

"Haganezuka? You don't look so good."

That was the last thing he heard before he passed out for a second time that month. She had carried him. CARRIED HIM!! HIM!! All the way back inside filled with worry. Don't ask him why she didn't  just leave him there. If the resident blacksmith was just found passed out against the ground it would've been less humiliating than a girl to carry him all the way to his bed where he remained when he woke up and numbly laid there as she went off chattering again. He didn't know what he was thinking when he suddenly exploded at her letting everything out. Maybe it was his frustration? The stress and strain he was feeling from her relentless presence? Maybe the days of little to no sleep? His mind zoned out as he mindlessly yelled at her but he certainly wasn't expecting it to end up with her kissing him and him being compliant to her affections. Leaning into her warmth and all around easing the stress he was always. Good grief what did he say? At one point she pulled away and he attempted to kiss her again which ended embarrassingly thanks to his lesser height which ended up with himself missing her lips and pecking her jawline which sent her beautiful face into giggles and the soft hands cupping his already crying and red face rubbed away at the stressful tears.

"You shouldn't beat yourself over like a little crush. I would've been happy to know either way. Oh. Please don't cry."

He wasn't sure why he felt so assured or comforted right now, but for now he leaned into those soft hands holding him up with the pretty angelic face of his relief

[celestialprincesse]

Mustang 🌵🏜️

The morning after dinner with Simon, you sit patiently on your porch swing, a chipped mug of coffee clutched in one hand, a pen knife balanced between the fingers of the other. Fortunately, the mornings aren't yet sweltering enough to wake covered in sweat and kick off the thin sheet from your bed. The sun still rises languorously over the horizon, and you wake with it.

Simon Riley is surprisingly pleasant, and you begrudgingly admit to yourself that Marlene had been right, perhaps you do need to get out more, meet new people, get over it. Perhaps you like him because he's like you. He's quiet, peaceful on the surface, undoubtedly roiling underneath. It's impossible to miss when you know the feeling so well. Tyres crunching on gravel snap you from your reverie, the black truck, some shiny new ford pulling in your driveway, cab doors swinging open to let its driver out.

"Nice." An appreciative eyebrow is raised in the direction of the truck, amusement barely hidden at its cleanliness. You struggle to imagine him spending meticulous hours cleaning the vehicle - when you do picture Simon Riley shirtless and suntanned, working meticulously to rid the truck of dust and dirt, you internally chastise yourself before walking down the rickety porch steps to greet him. "You left your pot." His gruff accent feels so odd to you still, so out of place whilst still being so somehow pleasant, sending shivers down your spine. "Shit. So I did." The enamel of your Dutch Oven is cool against your hands, chilled from the AC in his car. Still not used to the warmth, you suppose.

"You want a drink?" You hum as you wordlessly make your way back up the porch steps, Ness nipping at your heels as you usher Simon and the collie into your cozy kitchen, quick to shut the screen door behind you. "I got sweet tea, coffee, lemonade." "You got earl grey?" "Do I look like the type to have earl grey?" "Black coffee then, please."

Ness seems to like him. Good judge of character, you think. You hope. Maybe she likes him because of how similar he is to you, and you can't help but appreciate the newcomer as he pets the bicoloured ears of your pet. Your place is exactly how he pictured it'd be, cozy in a lived in sort of way, knickknacks scattered across the countertops and shelves and the occasional picture of what he can only assume is you as a kid strewn haphazardly. The coffee maker whirs quietly to life as you busy yourself with retrieving a plate of biscuits from the fridge, chucked in there to avoid the occasional fly that managed to get through the screen in the rushed moments where you failed to close it all the way.

"Biscuit?" "Just coffee is fine." "Your loss." You quip back, putting the plate back in its rightful place, by which time the coffee has brewed and you pour Simon a chipped mug full. "So, the fastback." Simon manages a little awkwardly, dwarfing your mug between his palms. "Ah, the elephant in my garage." The crappy joke makes you actually cringe, eyelid twitching as you angle your head back to the door, making your way to the garage, in which you pull the cover from the red painted mustang with an awkwardly executed flourish.

Upon assessing the car, Simon grunts out a quiet "Shit", turning to you with an almost concerned look. "You pay for this?" It seems weirdly as though he's mad, like anyone who charged you for this useless hunk of metal and rubber had committed some kind of sin, like they'd kicked a puppy or shunned god away. "No. No, guy said if I could fix it up it was mine." "Good. Cause it's worth fucking naught."

Simon spends the morning tinkering with the car. Pushes it out of the garage with pure brute strength so that he can look at it properly, says he'll fix your garage light whilst he's at it. When he appears at the kitchen door like a lost dog, cautious to shut the screen door, he can't help but appreciate the way you turn to face him, leaning the swell of your hip against the countertop. "The biscuit offer still open?" "You're fixing my shitty car and you already looked at my garage light. At this point I owe you more than just biscuits." You chuff.

The veteran can't help himself but to ogle your ass as you bend in front of your fridge to retrieve the biscuit plate, along with a jug of sweet tea and two chilled glasses.

"Prepared." "Ah, figured you'd get thirsty at some point."

There's something pleasant about the quiet of it all. Reminds him why he moved out here in the first place. The quiet nicker of horses and the sight of a beautiful woman making him lunch after spending hours out in the unforgiving heat. It makes him feel weirdly grateful, something he hasn't felt in a while. He's at your side as you rustle up some other food, something more substantial for a man of his size who's just spent four hours in the steadily boiling heat. He likes the way you don't flinch when a tentative arm slips around your waist to grab the glasses you'd set out on the counter, moving them to the table before returning to press his shoulder against yours.

"Need me to do anythin' else?" "Just stand there and be hot." Slips out before you can stop yourself, and your hand flies to cover your mouth, all whilst he stands, massive arms crossed against his chest with a smug. "Yes, Ma'am."

ᯓ★

Today felt like such a good day to write these two I promise I didn't forget about them!! I love them!! They're my emotionally wounded babies!!!

[wifetomegatron]

perceptor wants to study you. afab!reader. nsfw! drabble. skirt mentioned.

Perceptor is a scientist. It is his job to learn. To observe. In many ways, when the situation calls for it, it is also his job to solve things. The most reliable questions to answer were equations, solid and truthful: numerical variables were tangible enough to pull apart and rebuild without straying too far from his reality. They only have one answer.

But you were different. A moving target that never stood still. Always changing and taking him by surprise. You were a blow to his ego. And that caught his attention. A beauty that had no source in his stout and unyielding world. The possibilities were endless.

He wants to drink you dry.

" Open your mouth."

His voice was barely short of a whisper. Do all humans have this ability to render sentient beings speechless, to rob the room of any sound? Maybe they are also capable of manipulating magnetic fields: of defying the laws of gravity to knock their opponents off their axis. That would be dangerous. It was a good thing that you didn't see him as a threat. Not when you were looking at his past your lashes, eyes coy — fingers drawing circles around his shoulders.

" My," You hummed, " How bold of you, Perceptor."

Have you always had this lilt to your voice? He searched his processor for a comparison — the water running down the creek back in your green organic planet, the lonely echo of bullets as they ricochet, the tentative hum of a spark as it reignites. None of them comes close. He feels sick. Dizzy. Maybe he needs to go and see Ratchet.

" Open your mouth, please."

He repeats himself. Voice surprisingly level, even though it felt like his vocalizer was going to snap. And that earned him a smile. He did nothing to warrant your laughter, and yet you indulged him like you always do. Tongue — pink and wet — peeking past the row of pearls you call teeth as you tilt your neck gently backward. His hand moved instinctively, dwarfing the back of your head for support. 

He pressed the pad of his thumb flat across the soft surface and felt the metal sink. Your eyes fluttered shut, legs, slightly parting to let him slot his body in between. He held you in place. Chest to chassis, the thin fabric of your shirt did nothing to hide the subtle race of your heart.

Sinew and muscle, humming, unlike anything he's ever heard. 

This is for science, Perceptor tells you, retracting his servos to pick up his PADD, mind bursting with a flurry of thoughts. He couldn't even remember what he wrote down. He will have to review it later. 

He runs a few more exams. Medical needs it. And yet he had offered himself to run them. He says it was also crucial for his research. 

What kind of research, Ratchet had asked him.

A personal one, he had replied.

No one stopped him, especially not when you were so eager to help.

He kissed you on the lips. Tentatively, once, twice. You sighed into his mouth. Lips soft. Too soft. He needed to know if you were just as delicate between your —

This is for science, Perceptor tells himself, already sinking onto his knees. You were a plethora of texture, so different from his biology. So far from the mundane. While he clings almost religiously to the dependable — facts, numbers, metal — the purest, rawest form of science is the unknown. He nudged your knees with his nose, wider, and you wordlessly complied. 

Every scientist is an explorer at heart. And what is more unfamiliar than the feel of your skin? 

Perceptor rubs up and down your thighs, feeling you shiver. His cooling fans clicked to life, reacting, responsive. And this pleased you. And you pleased him.

Prettiness is symmetry, all things in the right place. And yet you were an artifact of unknown beauty, with no origin, no source. All things have to start somewhere — stars were born out of gases, sparks out of a mass of positrons supercharged by energon. But where did you come from? So alien. So different.

If the Earth was your creator, then you must be molded out of clay, shaped by her gentle hands, not carved, for he was sure even under his touch you would break. That the slightest misplace of pressure would shatter and scatter you into pieces.

But humans were known to be resilient. He likes to call you generous instead. Ever so giving, ever so kind.

Today, you wore what you called a skirt. Isn't it pretty? He doesn't have much to say about its color other than that it was practical and worn with a purpose. An invitation.

You mewled in encouragement when he pressed a kiss square against the plush, wet slit of your cunt.

Perceptor is a scientist. It is his job to learn. To observe. In many ways, when the situation calls for it, it is also his job to solve things. And there is still so much he wants to learn from you. He wants to map every sensitive spot that made you gasp and writhe. He wants to chart every delicate twitch, every clench. And with your body arching atop his table — sweat dripping down your brow, you were his muse.

But make no mistake, this was a symbiotic relationship. You were also studying him, changing him. ( He was certain you've ruined him for anyone else.)

Perceptor knows he should have stayed as an objective observer, standing on the sideline. Yet you were a very seductive hypothesis, just waiting to be kissed to life. There was lubricant leaking down his chin as you reached your high, nails scratching the back of his helm. Objects cluttered off the table in the distance, yet he continues to drink.

You broke his idea of truth, and Perceptor lets you.

[carionto]

It'll be "awesome", the Human said

(Continuation/conclusion to this)

____________________________

After the Coalition delegates had been mindblown enough, it was time for them to finally leave and have a nap. But Captain Knoslark had one more thing he desperately wanted to show them.

"So, like, we're a science vessel and we have three of the biggest reactors, right? Right. So, I wanna show you what we recently figured out we can do. C'mon, it'll be awesome."

Awesome - a word the rest of the Galaxy will soon learn to both admire and run for cover whenever a Human uses it.

With trepidation in their steps, and worry in their breaths, they followed the all too eager Captain, who was almost skipping and humming down the halls, dramatically pointing the way. His crew continued to not give him the satisfaction of ever acknowledging his theatrics.

"Once the reactors are in good enough sync, we'll reconfigure the Radiant Dusk to a circular shape and begin!"

Oh. Yeah. Of course their ships can also transform. Why not. The delegates have given up thinking there are things Human engineering can't accomplish. Also, good enough?

"Eh, don't worry about it, we overbuild everything, so a 1 or 2 percent margin of error is fine, most of the time."

They could not imagine themselves to be more worried. At least not until a few minutes from now.

"Captain, she's ready," Chief Engineer Tameki's tone changed to a total blank deadpan for the next words, "to transform. and. roll. out."

With childlike glee, Captain Knoslark tapped the big red button, specifically designed for his pad only, to begin the sequence.

Distant creaking of metal, anguish at the prospect of bending in ways nature never intended, and the unmistakable jolt of mechanical movement, despite the artificial gravity maintaining the same down throughout, once more instilled primal anxiety for the delegates.

The reactors wound up, turning the almost-buzz like feeling beneath their feet to a true all encompassing sense of absolute power. Three small stars at equidistant points along the now 4km in diameter vessel created a singular feeling of something imminent that should never have been possible. The Universe itself wanted to reject this possibility.

"We tried copying your mass field generators from way back when you did the barrier thing. Wanted to see if we could get close to Black Hole levels, there were some theories that time travels was possible with that kinda pull."

I don't think anyone would be surprised if they had succeeded, but, for once during their entire visit, the Humans said they couldn't get time travel to work. Celebration! Then the Captain kept talking.

"So what happened instead is we accidentally tore a hole in time-space, creating a sort of warp gate." He said with both joy and disappointment.

Then the Universe shrieked. A massive distortion in reality now struggled and failed to restore normality between the ring-shaped ship. Swirling coils of matter flickered in and out, ghostly visages of detonations on a solar scale. A sight never intended to be witnessed.

"Still gotta figure out how to set a destination to anywhere. Right now the only stable connection we can get is with massive gravity wells, so any celestial body with enough mass, smallest one is a red dwarf. Problem is the connection steers towards the center, so not really practical right now."

"If we try to point at empty space the gate just kinda wiggles and you end up getting spaghetti-fied on the other end. Still, once we get enough ships like this one around the galaxy, we'll solve that whole trips taking more than a few hours thing we got with the hyper drives."

At this point the delegates decided to be escorted away, as most had became a crying mess. One stumbled onto a automated cleaning unit and at this the Captain, whose mood had soured a bit now that his time as tour guide was over, rose back to heights unseen before. With his most official sounding, yet at the same time most joy filled tone ever, he declared:

"Sergeant Ying Zhao, issue an official notice. Today at 20:30 ship time there will be a grand ceremony for the promotion of Captain Stabicus to Special Envoy of the Galactic Coalition. Ready all relevant paperwork, and his new badge, and inform the chef to prepare a feast. We have done much today for the sake of Human-Coalition relationships, and so much more for the Radiant Dusk at Everest and her crew and staff. Tonight, we celebrate!"

[fullmoonfireball]

Olimar was dead, he knew that much. And yet, here he was.

He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a little ball and rot away, in the hopes his soul might get the chance to return to the stars, but he couldn't. The Pikmin needed him- even if he wished they didn't- and his limbs kept moving, dragging him and his squad forward.

It was already past noon, meaning he only had so much time to figure out what to do without the trusty S.S. Dolphin before sunset. With how badly she had been crashed, her frame reduced to a twisted heap of metal, there was no way he could fix her enough to fly to safety before night fell. And as much as he wished he was fully dead, being devoured by the native wildlife didn't sound appealing in the slightest.

Thankfully, he noticed, it seemed the Pikmin had no interest listening to his internal monologue at the moment, or else they surely would've erupted into screams and cries at such a thought as Leader being eaten. No, instead they were busy singing amongst themselves. The melody and rhythm were simple, but the lyrics... Maybe his stem wasn't as good at translating as he initially thought. Something about love? Or angels? He shook his head. There was no point in getting caught up on the tune, not when the fact he didn't understand them meant he wasn't a Pikmin, and especially not when there were things to do... Or so he would've thought, if something about the tune didn't make him think of sweet smells, like those of the berries his dear wife tended to in their backyard...

Olimar stopped in his tracks. A few of the less attentive Pikmin bumped into his back, and the singing stopped. He was hungry. He almost wanted to smile. Maybe he wasn't quite as dead as he thought if his digestive system still worked. Of course, that almost-joy was short lived. They'd been walking for a couple hours now- going back to the Dolphin's wreck to fish out some instant space noodles would be a fool's errand even if he wasn't sick of eating them, which meant...

The air filled with various buzzes, and Olimar could physically feel the Pikmin's excitement. Their Leader had an actual, material task to do. Olimar took a deep breath and whistled. The buzzing quieted as the Pikmin stood at attention, and Moss, who had been at the back of the group making sure there were no stragglers, rushed to his side. He climbed up on her back, and the Pikmin followed.

"You think you can sniff out a tasty creature?" he cooed. She sniffed at the ground around her before letting out an affirmative bark, rushing forward in a new direction. Moss had presumably lived here for her entire life, she had to know what was and wasn't edible, right?

Olimar couldn't help but turn to look behind him. Moss's leaf-tipped tail blended in perfectly with the stems of the Pikmin clinging to her back, only distinguished by its teal colour. If it was just a bit less green, it would look exactly like the stems the blue Pikmin. One of his hands strayed to his own stem, tugging it down in front of his face. Its shade of red matched perfectly with his gloves, a bit darker than that of the red Pikmin. He grimaced and let it go, turning forwards once more. Olimar gripped harder onto Moss's fur. He shouldn't dwell on such thoughts. He should be planning how to prepare the meal, or where they would go tonight... Perhaps a cave would work. It definitely wouldn't be as safe as the sky, but the natural darkness the creatures were accustomed to down there would mean they were less likely to go into a frenzy. Yes, they could clear out an area near the cave's exit to wait for the sun to rise again. And with how strangely time worked down there, he could sleep for however long he needed... Oh, how nice that would be...

It wasn't much longer until Moss screeched to a halt, a safe distance from a sleeping Bulborb with three Dwarf Bulborbs. Considering how many Pikmin the creatures had eaten, it only seemed fair that he should get to eat one of them. He reached behind him to grab a Pikmin, and readied himself to throw, considering his targets carefully. The 'mother' Bulborb would keep him fed for a few days, but going after her would require taking out the Dwarf Bulborbs first, not to mention the higher risk of losing Pikmin... One of the small ones would be far more efficient to go for. He'd have to go hunting again tomorrow, but there would be less meat wasted and it would be far easier to take out.

Olimar hopped off Moss's back, Pikmin still in hand. He gestured with his free hand for the rest to stay up there.

"Hey!" he called, not quite loud enough to wake the Bulborb, waving his arms. One of the Dwarf Bulborbs jumped, now alerted to his presence. It approached him, straying from the safety of the group in the hopes of getting a tasty Pikmin snack. He threw the Pikmin, and BAM! With one well-placed hit to the top, it was down, the others none the wiser.

"I need two more of you to help carry it," he instructed, looking over his shoulder. "Doesn't matter who, it's not for the Onion. I'll lead you to where it needs to be."

The Pikmin tilted their heads to the side, but a pair obediently slid off Moss's back to carry the corpse. Now all they needed to do was find a cave, and they would be set for the night.

Thankfully, caves were plentiful on this strange planet, so it didn't take too much more walking to find one.

"There's our home for tonight," Olimar mused, leaning over the opening.

The Pikmin stared at him. While they didn't say a word, he could feel their confusion and, even more, their trust. We don't know what you're doing, but we'll follow you anyways.

"Come on." He took hold of the body. "I'll help you carry it down."

The three of them looked a bit uneasy about taking it down so far, but they nodded. Anything for you. He could feel a stinging at his eyes. Sunset was coming fast, he didn't have the time to cry. He stepped with them towards the opening, helping the Pikmin over the lip, before falling down, down, down with them.

Every time, it was such a strange sensation, falling so far, and yet barely even being bruised once he hit the ground. Terrifying yet harmless, truly a testament to this planet's lower gravity. It seemed like the Pikmin shared that opinion, having squealed and screamed all the way down. He'd only just stood back up when Moss and the rest of the Pikmin landed down beside him.

"Alright, let's keep moving." He climbed up on her back. Maybe he didn't need to be in any rush, but there wasn't any need to waste time either.

The group snuck their way past the cave's creatures, doing their best not to disturb them or let them get to the Pikmin carrying the Dwarf Bulborb.

The first level didn't have what he needed. How unfortunate. But if they had to go further anyways, they might as well. The Pikmin were a little less hesitant to drop down while carrying the body the second time, but they let out a pleading little squeak as they lifted it up. Olimar sighed and hopped off Moss's back. It really shouldn't have been a surprise they could get to his soft spots so easily...

"There you go," he cooed, helping them over the lip. Their squeals as they fell seemed a bit less scared and more excited this time. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself. They were so much like Shiyo when he was little... Crying about facing something new, only to immediately try to put on a brave face.

It was only when Moss finally hopped down after them that he realized how caught up he'd gotten in his own thoughts. He vaulted over the ledge of the opening, going down after them.

"Leader!" the Pikmin squeaked. "We thought you weren't coming!"

"I'm sorry for worrying you all." He patted the nearest Pikmin's heads. "I just zoned out a bit."

"What's a Shiyo?" One tilted their head.

Right. Even his own thoughts weren't entirely private anymore. "It's... It's not important. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Okay!" It beamed. "Yay!"

Olimar shook his head. What funny little creatures they were. He got back up on Moss's back, ready to continue their little mission.

It didn't take much longer until they came across exactly what he was looking for: A Fiery Blowhog. Perfect.

"Blue. Yellow. Drop it. More reds, get on."

They gave him a strange look, but obeyed anyways.

"Alright, now only you follow me." He marched out in front of the creature, the three Pikmin in tow. The Blowhog reared back, and spewed a stream of fire at the Pikmin and their charge.

"SPIN!"

While disoriented by the jet of flame, they obeyed, rotating the body in place. Soon enough, the Blowhog's blast stopped. The Dwarf Bulborb looked charred, but not too bad. Definitely edible! He let out a triumphant cheer... and the Fiery Blowhog snorted, turning towards him.

"Get back to Moss and the others!" he yelled. "I'll be fine!"

The Pikmin hurried off, and he gulped. There was no way he was suddenly flameproof, despite the red stem. The Blowhog reared back. Olimar ran, the flames hot on his heels. What awful planning, of course creatures would be more interested in him now, with that sprout he probably looked like a large Pikmin! He should've thought of an escape route...

Thankfully, the beast had no interest in pursuing Olimar much further, allowing him to reconvene with Moss and the Pikmin once he regained his bearings.

"Leader!!!" squealed the Pikmin, scrambling up and wrapping their roots around him. Just like his princess, Jiday, would whenever he got home from a long stint of work... He could feel himself tremble.

No Olimar, you still have things to do, he reminded himself. Daylight might not be a factor right now, but you have to eat. You have to eat. Once you've eaten, your tasks are done.

Wordlessly, the group made their way to the exit hole of the cave. Olimar peered up. He could make out stars against the darkened sky, even if only faintly.

He heaved a sigh. "Alright, this is our site." He sat down on the ground. "We'll know it's safe to leave once we see light coming from up there."

The Pikmin looked uneasy. "Leader is sure about this?"

He nodded. "We'll be safe down here as long as we stay out of the way of any creatures. They're used to darkness down here, so nightfall shouldn't make them act any different. If any do come to bother us, Moss and I will handle them."

A chorus of "Thank you, Leader!"s came from the squad, some of them nuzzling up to him.

"Ah... You're welcome. Do you mind giving me a bit of space?" He groped at his spacesuit's compartments, before coming up with a multitool he'd stashed away who-knows-when. He flicked out its knife, and the Pikmin stared, intrigued. "I'm just going to eat the Bulborb." A few of them straightened up, rushing to grab the body and bring it to Olimar. He muttered a thank you, and plunged the knife in. The Pikmin were transfixed.

With some force, he managed to cut a leg off. From there, he removed the skin from the thigh. The meat was a horrible grey-brown. He gulped. At least it wasn't raw. When he bit in, the meat was dry, flavourless, and somehow still squishy... but stars above, when compared to weeks of nothing but instant space noodles, it was delicious.

He ate and ate until he was well and truly full. Goodness, did it ever feel good to be full. Moss happily took whatever scraps he didn't eat, leaving nothing but a few sinewy scraps, unappealing organs, and bones. He stretched. The Pikmin were still staring at him expectantly.

"That's all for today. I'm going to bed."

"Seeds?" a particularly bold Pikmin blurted out.

"Hm? No, I can't make seeds without an Onion, as far as I know." They nodded amongst each other.

"Only Home-Onion makes seeds. Leader isn't Home, so it doesn't make seeds," could be made out from the babble. He grimaced to himself.

"Well, unless any of you have any more tasks we need to do tonight, we're going to sleep." Olimar leaned up against Moss, who had taken to gnawing on one of the Dwarf Bulborb's femurs. Being able to feel her fur for once was nice, even if it was a bit coarse. How he wished he could've given her a nice, cushy life on Hocotate. A better diet would surely soften her coat up, just like it did for Bulbie...

He was snapped out of that line of thought by the tens of Pikmin crawling up onto him, a dense blanket of squirming roots as they tried to find the most comfortable folds of his spacesuit to cling on to.

They looked up at him with wet little eyes. "Doesn't Leader want to nest?" Great, now he felt guilty for being startled.

"Yes, of course," he sighed, spreading his arms a bit to give them more surface area. "Please get comfortable." Thankfully, he could still make out the opening from this position, since it didn't seem like he'd be moving any time soon. He shifted in place a little, trying to take his own advice, and closed his eyes.

"Isn't it comfortable?" one Pikmin whispered. They opened right back up, but the Pikmin didn't seem to notice.

"Soft and firm," another's voice. "Just like Leader!"

"Its belly is the best!"

"Stop calling me an 'it'," Olimar grumbled. 'It' probably wasn't actually what they were saying, but he was too tired to distinguish between that reality and what he could hear.

At that, the Pikmin began to babble amongst themselves unsurreptitiously. He couldn't make out the exact words, but their confusion was plenty clear.

Eventually, one spoke up, "if Leader isn't 'it', what is Leader?"

"Olimar," he groaned. "Please just call me Olimar, not Leader, and I'm not an 'it', I'm a 'he'."

"What is a 'he'?" Their eyes were wide with curiosity, he couldn't stay mad.

"Well, most creatures don't reproduce like you do. They don't have Onions to produce seeds for them, they create them themselves, with the help of another individual of their species. And to distinguish between the roles they play in reproduction, we use the pronouns 'he' and 'she'."

The Pikmin stared, begging him to elaborate. He supposed it was just cruel fate that he should have this talk with an alien species before- no, instead of with his own children...

"Alright, get off, we're not sleeping yet," Olimar ordered, squirming in place. "I'll need my arms to help explain this." The Pikmin excitedly obeyed.

"In species like my own, one individual provides one half of the 'seed', and another provides the other. When they reproduce, the full seed grows within one of them." He scratched a pair of figures into the dirt. "The one who grows the seed is a 'she', and the other is a 'he'."

The Pikmin erupted into babble once more, eagerly discussing this little lesson.

"If Leader-Olimar is he, is creature-Moss also he?" a yellow Pikmin asked, pointing at Moss. It looked particularly excited about being able to come to this conclusion.

"Ah, no, but good guess." He shook his head. "Moss is a 'she'. The way her body is indicates that she would be the one to grow the seed, or- more likely- seeds."

"How does Leader-Olimar know?" a red Pikmin interjected. "Leader-Olimar and creature-Moss aren't the same."

"Could be!" another one chimed in. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what it meant by that.

"There are creatures very similar to Moss back where I'm from. We call them dogs, and they follow similar patterns of reproduction to my species. From what I've seen, Moss is very much the same."

"Dog. Dog. Dog? Dog. Dog! Dog," came the murmur of the squad as they tried out the word.

"But how can Olimar tell?" the red Pikmin from before questioned.

"Their external organs are-"

"But organs are inside-meat?"

"Not necessarily. Things like eyes or skin are external organs, and-" He had went to pinch his cheek as an example, but whatever he'd grabbed certainly wasn't his skin. He tugged a little. It felt as though he'd grabbed a chunk of hair instead, though a bit more concentrated somehow. "... I don't want to know what I look like right now, do I," he muttered.

"Leader looks safe!" a Pikmin immediately answered.

"Leader-Olimar!" another corrected.

"Leader-Olimar looks alive!" one more chirped.

"Alive and safe! Safe and alive!" the group chanted.

None of those cleared anything up, but that was probably for the best. He sighed and continued. "Anyways, external organs can be used for reproduction. Usually you can tell because the 'he' organs stick out, while 'she' organs go in, a bit like a gill."

This caused yet more confusion amongst the Pikmin. He was sure he could make out a few blue Pikmin confusedly asking if they were 'she's, and while he was prepared to answer that with a 'if you want to be, yes', he wasn't quite prepared for what they actually came forward to say.

"She," they said in unison, all pointing their roots towards Olimar.

"What?"

"Leader-Olimar and creature-Moss have inside bits!" A few of the Pikmin began to dance around, quite pleased with their deduction. "Moss is she, so Olimar is she!"

"No, that's not..." He slumped his shoulders. This was better than getting called 'it' all the time, and it would be a waste of time to keep bashing against this brick wall. "...Sure. Let's go to sleep now."

"Leader-Olimar is so smart," a few Pikmin hummed as they wriggled back into position. "She is such a good leader!"

Olimar sighed to himself. At least someone thought he was doing well. He looked up to the cave's exit, where he could make out the night sky, pinpricked by stars. He couldn't hold back any longer. Those very stars blurred away, his eyes overflowing with tears.

At first, he'd thought it strange, almost cruel, that this planet's sun should completely drown out every other visible star during the day, that he should only get the faintest chance of catching a vague glimpse of Hocotate in the dead of night, utterly unrecognizable from this distance. But now, it seemed like a necessary evil. He should only mourn the home he would never see again when there was nothing more important to do.

"Chipi, dear, I hope you'll be able to forgive me," were the last words out of his mouth before he fell asleep.

[fakekojimo]

Would fucking kill for Tadahiro Uesugi to do more design work for anime.

Most animation nerds know him as one of the unsung heroes of Caroline, being one the Art Directors, except me. Cuz my pool of my artistic reference is painfully too limited, I'm working on that I swear! But my first exposure to his stuff was on Carole and Tuesday.

I like how elegant his drawings are without feeling overly refined or sterile, it's the opposite even. Not a single ounce of symmetry to be found anywhere! The lights are represented as splotches that all differ from streetlight to streetlight, more solid structures like bridges are mishapen, and no two windows look the same. I hesitate to use the term "imperfection" because that feels a little backhanded and takes away the intent from Uesugi's paintings. The asymmetry in his work makes everything feel organic-- refined without feeling stuffy.

Bahi JD directed the opening, but it was Watanabe's idea to get Uesugi to do imageboards in the first place. He immediately nailed the vibe Bahi was looking for in the first place, nailed it so damn well that they left his work untouched for the opening! Left it straight as it is.

Dropped out of C&T pretty early on. It felt pretty aimless to me from the start, and trying to watch it while it was airing was nightmare due to Netflix still relying heavily on the binge model for anime at the time. But honestly? I got my fix just by watching the opening a billon times. The whole show is about Carole and Tuesday changing the world through their "organic music" against the rise of AI, looking back the premise aged much better than I remembered, but the show's take on "organic music" was represented by extremely janky, melty rotoscoped performances. Never understood that.

The show was striving on the ambition of these live performances to sweep the audience away but they end up feeling uncanny and lifeless due to the poor clean-up and inbetweening. Shows the difference between Uesugi's deceptively simple "imperfections" which aids towards a more organic vision vs those same imperfections holding things back.

Grievances with the show aside, Uesugi did stick around for the second opening. And despite the change in the director, going from Bahi JD to series director Motonobu Hori, the approach is still largely the same. There is less of a focus on more motion and more on Uesugi's gorgeous imageboards instead. Which is more than fine with me!

I always loved this cut the most. Carole and Tuesday jamming out in that huge ass canyon. The way they're dwarfed by it makes it feel so intimidating but the warm colors makes it feel just as inviting as well! Just makes me wanna get in there and explore.

And the closing shot is another favorite of mine too. The right moon (forgot to say this show takes place on Mars whoops) just being a little splotch makes me smile because it's such a fun choice. Again, refined without feeling stuffy!

After C&T Uesugi's been doing ED sequences at BONES for Motonobu Hori projects, while still not quite reaching those same heights as C&T.

His Supercrooks ED is dope, not as thematically appropriate as the previous project, but still cool! It's a solo KA done by Naomi Kaneda, but a good chunk of the motion looks more on the tweened side as well. Uesugi is credited for "イラストレーション and 構成) (Illustrations and compositions?) so I'm willing to bet the left his imageboards and drawings as is, but decided to go for a more of a motion graphics approach this time around.

A friend described Uesugi's work in general having an "urban glamor" feel to it, definitely the most visible here.

His most recent ED on Metallic Rouge is unfortunately his weakest. The thing is though? His ending is leaps and bounds over the show itself!

Metallic Rouge was one of the dullest shows I've seen this year. It's supposed to be a moody and broody cyberpunk show and it's reflected in it's dull and drab world. The show takes place on Mars, but if you told me it took place in a futuristic New York City instead I'd just smile and nod. There is more weird alien stuff in later eps but when everything already feels so cut and dry I'm hardly gonna be impressed. That's where Uesugi's ED comes in and beats the shit out of what came before.

(Yeah I know my stitches suck. Don't look at 'em too hard.)

He paints a world that feels legitimately more futuristic and alien than anything in the show itself! Playing up the fact that we're on an alien planet, and there should be as much wonder and beauty as there is danger and caution. It's the type of range I wish Metallic Rouge had instead of staying one boring register all throughout. I know we all can't be as great as him, but it should be nice if we could be as 1/8th as cool as him.

There are bound to be more Motonobu Hori shows down the pipeline. While I've yet to fully like a show that he directed... I don't mind getting more of them as long as we get more Uesugi openings or endings.

Or maybe something more one day. Maybe.

[sage-nebula]

Notes: One last little piece written for Wholesome Brothers Wednesday in the server I'm in, to soothe my own hurt feelings over my Tails figure arriving in the mail broken. ;_; Once again from a potential novelization of Sonic 2, though a little bit earlier in the timeline than the previous piece: this is the one in which names are exchanged, taking place about a day after they met.

Once again, Sonic is eleven, Tails is four.

- - -

Miles had never seen so many robots in his life.

That wasn’t saying much, he supposed, as he watched the blue hedgehog bust open another . . . motobug, he thought the hedgehog had called it. The casing snapped apart with a loud crack, and a ricky tumbled out onto the grass, dazed but otherwise unharmed. The hedgehog paused just long enough to make sure the ricky could sit upright before he took off again; Miles lingered behind just long enough to pick the ricky up and place it on a tree branch.

“Make sure to find a good hiding place, okay?” he said, and rubbed his finger atop the ricky’s head. “Just in case Dr Robuttnik comes back.”

The ricky stared at Miles with wide eyes before it turned and bolted higher up the tree. That was okay; Miles thought it understood what he was saying anyway.

With the ricky safe, Miles took off after the hedgehog again. By this point the hedgehog was a little blue dot amidst the sweeping grass of Emerald Hill’s landscape, but he was still easy to spot. With a whirl of his tails Miles took to the air, flying high above a monkey robot hiding in another tree’s leaves. Up ahead, the hedgehog sped along a corkscrew, running so fast he was able to stay on even as he ran on the underside of it, something Miles had never seen anyone do.

He was so cool! 

The hedgehog cleared the other side with an exhilarated cheer, and came to a hard stop on the grass. He spun on the ball of his foot so that he could look back the way he just came. Miles was just halfway over the corkscrew now, and starting to feel a little tired—but he wasn’t about to say that, not when the hedgehog had just done something so cool and was grinning so wide because he knew it.

Miles grinned back and flashed a thumbs-up—and then froze as something buzzed loud behind him.

The hedgehog’s grin was gone; his lips tugged down in a harsh frown, his eyes narrowed as he shifted his stance to run again. Any panic Miles might’ve felt at the idea that he had done something to upset him was dwarfed by the panic he felt at the ferocious buzzing behind him, and he whirled around to find himself staring right in the eyes of a giant bee robot.

Miles couldn’t help it—he screamed. Loud. And smashed the sole of his shoe right into the bee robot’s abdomen.

The bee robot crashed into the corkscrew hard enough to break apart; screws and springs and metal casing went flying in every direction as a dazed flicky was thrown free. The hedgehog crossed the corkscrew quickly enough to catch the flicky in cupped hands, and set the flicky down on the other side so that it could take a moment to recover in the grass. Miles flew over to join them, and as he landed, the hedgehog looked up at him with another wide grin.

“Good one, Tails! You showed that buzz bomber who’s boss.”

Miles blinked; surprise hit him hard enough that he forgot to keep his tails spinning, and he landed on the grass with a stumble. “‘Tails?’”

The hedgehog stepped back from the still-recovering flicky. His grin didn’t vanish, but he almost looked a little . . . nervous? . . . as he scratched the side of his nose.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I don’t know what else to call you, and you’ve got two, so . . .” He shrugged.

A familiar sense of self-conscious embarrassment washed over Miles, and he clutched his tails to his chest. When he held them like this, they almost looked like one big tail. But as quickly as the sensation came, it faded. When he’d caught up to the hedgehog for the first time a day ago, to say thank you for the way he had helped Miles with the bullies, he had expressed shock at the fact that—well, first at the fact that Miles had been able to catch up to him, but then at the fact that Miles could fly. He was the first person Miles could remember who didn’t think his tails were weird or gross. He had said they were cool.

Miles let his arms fall, his tails swooping back behind him again. This hedgehog—this super cool, super fast hero—thought his tails were cool, so when he called him Tails . . .

“But if you don’t like that, that’s fine,” the hedgehog said, his tone as casual as his stance. “I just need something to call you, so—”

“No, it’s okay!” Miles said, and he spun his tails a little so he could lift up on his tip-toes. “You can call me Tails. It’s like a—like a nickname, right?” 

A nickname like what friends gave each other, from what he’d observed from other kids in the village. Not that he would go so far as to say the hedgehog saw Miles as a friend—he could only be so lucky—but he at least didn’t see him as a freak, and that was good enough.

The hedgehog laughed. “Yeah, exactly. And my name’s Sonic.”

It took only a second for Miles to remember where he’d heard that word before. “Because you’re fast?” he asked, and before Sonic could answer, added, “Because—because I read in a book that when mil’tary planes go really fast—” he made whoosh motion with his hand, like how he imagined a plane would look, “—they can make shock waves called sonic booms. But that only happens when they go really fast. Faster than the speed of sound.”

Sonic pressed his lips together tightly, his cheeks puffed. It looked like how other kids in the village looked when they were trying not to laugh, but unlike them, Sonic’s eyes weren’t mean. 

When his held back laughter subsided, Sonic said, “Kind of. I’m definitely fast, and Sonic means speed, but I wasn’t named after sonic booms.” He paused, then said with a wink, “Sonic booms were named after me.”

Miles’ eyes widened. “Really?”

Sonic nodded, the very picture of confidence. “Really.”

“That’s so cool!” This time the swift spin of his tails lifted him right off the ground, and Miles felt like he could fly higher than ever as Sonic laughed. “Wow, I hope I could have something cool named after me someday.”

Sonic shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe you will.” 

“You think so?”

“Sure, why not? Stick with me, and anything could happen.” Sonic paused, and flashed Tails another daring grin. “So long as you can keep up, of course!”

With that, he was off, blazing his path back across the corkscrew. His fatigue all but forgotten, Miles—no, Tails took off after, zipping along through the air behind him.

[downstarr]

The Consort (complete)

The Consort (11364 words) by downstar Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins, Balin (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Domestic Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Established Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Fluff, Consort Bilbo Baggins, POV Bilbo Baggins, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Misunderstandings, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Dwarf/Hobbit Relationship(s), Dwarf Gender Concepts, Dwarf Courting, Domestic Fluff, Non-Graphic Smut, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Cultural Differences, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Boyfriends, Gentleness Series: Part 2 of The Quiet Moments - Bilbo and Thorin Summary: After a confession of their feelings, Bilbo returns to Erebor with Thorin. The great city is in the process of rebuilding, and Thorin is settling into his role as his king. Word is getting around that their king has asked an outsider - a hobbit! - to be his consort. Can their burgeoning relationship survive the pressures of kingship and cultural misunderstandings? --- This fic carries on in continuity from my one-shot The King and the Hobbit. It's part of a series of one-shots or short pieces that exist within the same continuity and in the same timeline. Check the previous fic in this collection for the story of how the two of them got together.

Excerpt:

One evening, a few weeks into his stay in Erebor, Bilbo sat hunched over a heavy metal desk, perched high on a pair of cushions, his hairy feet dangling off the edge of the chair. He’d been hard at work for hours, drafting what would one day become the first chapter of their fated quest. 

Thorin approached him from behind and set his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m going to sleep. Join me when you’re ready. Don’t hurry on my account. Your candlelight does not bother me.” 

“Mhmm, be there soon,” replied Bilbo, his brow furrowed in concentration as he mouthed the words of the sentence he was trying to get just right. “Ah, Thorin, Thorin…” he looked up suddenly and swiveled around.

Thorin had just finished ducking out of his embroidered tunic. The flickering light of the roaring hearth set into the wall and the dim glow of the sunstones huddled up against Bilbo’s plants tossed flattering shadows across the thick muscle of his back. It also highlighted the pure white scar tissue rimmed in silver where Azog’s blade had sliced him through. Elvish medicine had saved his life, but he would always bear the mark of his nemesis and feel the wound echoed in the movement of his body. 

Thorin looked over his shoulder and lifted a brow when Bilbo called his name. “Mhmm?”

Bilbo found himself staring. He still wasn’t used to seeing the dwarven king in a state of undress, especially in so casual and intimate a moment. A physique such as Thorin’s was unknown among hobbits, which went some of the way towards explaining why Bilbo had never found a lover among his own kind. There was much more there, of course, but the physical nature of his attraction had caught him off-guard more than once since he’d found the courage to acknowledge it. 

Thorin noticed Bilbo’s wandering gaze and turned around. He made a bit of a cheeky show of leaning up against the wall next to the hearth, as if aware that the firelight did much to flatter his body. 

Bilbo swallowed, twitched his nose and tap-tapped his pen against a spare bit of paper he used to blot the ink. “Do you…” he cleared his throat, “...do you think there’s someone who could teach me Khuzdul? I should like to add some dwarvish script to my book. I’ve also heard that Smaug left the archive virtually untouched and there are many wonderful and ancient tomes that are still in good condition. But I can’t read any of them. And that…” he rapped his pen again, “... is a speeeeecial kind of torture.”

Thorin was a stoic man, capable of very subtle expressions. But the delight at hearing Bilbo’s request was immediate and obvious. He smiled, his eyes lighting up as warm as hearthfire. He crossed the great chamber to Bilbo’s side and reached out to cup his cheek. “I will send for a scholar from the Iron Hills to be your tutor. You will have the advantage of learning under a master of languages.” 

“That’s really not necessary. I can muddle along with some references and a helper. I don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble,” Bilbo replied. He felt the tips of his ears burn red, and he was suddenly grateful for the mess of his hair and the low shimmer of light. 

[judyfromfinance]

Olden Times. Modern Thinking.

(Heimdall/Modern!Reader)

Summary: You know things you’re not supposed to. You behave oddly. And the way you speak is even odder. Kratos, Mimir, and Atreus have no idea if they should believe your ramblings of another world and of a future they have no way of knowing is real. But, you seem harmless enough. Plus, Faye may rise from her grave if they let a poor woman freeze to death in their forest, right outside their home no less.

Chapter 5

When you woke up you heard no noise. Or, rather, no chatting. What you would expect to hear if Kratos and Atreus had returned. No you only heard the clanking of metal on metal. The same noise you fell asleep to. With a small groan you swiveled your legs off of the bed and cracked your back. A small yawn echoed around the small room before you opened up the door. You looked around to see no one. The only other person was Brok working in his smithy.

“Where is everyone? I thought they’d be back by now?” You asked while spinning around the main room. Hoping to spy Atreus reading a book perhaps. But no, they weren’t here. Brok stopped his hammering before answering you gruffly.

“They went to Svartalfheim. Apparently the little runt thinks Týr is alive and being held captive there. So Sindri took him and Kratos to see if they can bust the fucker out.” You probably slept through the small exchange before they departed. That’s a shame. You really wanted to see Mimir yell at the Huldra brothers for their, rather ingenious invention.

“Oh.”

“What? Am I not good enough company for the little mortal?” He bellowed in exasperation. You being, well you, decided to poke fun at him.

“I mean… yea pretty much.” You noticed Brok finally turned around from what he was doing to finally pay his full attention to you.

“Ex-fucking-scuse me, Princess?”

“You’re excused.” With a small and short ‘BAH’ he continued his work. But you did notice a slight smile on his face. You walked away, feeling good enough to leave knowing he didn’t take your teasing to heart. You walked up to a book case across the room, gliding your fingers over each and every spine. Your mind raced with thoughts of having to come clean about all that you knew. If they came back with Týr the Imposter in tow then how would you be able to tell anyone anything without tipping off Odin? You glance back at Brok. Knowing what’s to come for him and poor Sindri. It was difficult for you to know what to do. You glance back at the book case. You picked up one randomly and and opened it somewhere in the middle. You read the title on top of the page.

The Oath of Truce

(Tryggthamól)

‘…and wherever men gather together, there shall ye be so agreed as though this matter had never come between you. Ye shall share
  both steel and steaks
  and all the things
  that are betwixt you,
  like friends and not like foes.’

Fuck. Is this the world trying to tell you something? Fine. No more secrets. Secrets are what led to so many deaths and unnecessary hardships in this world. And you aren’t going to help that along. You place the book back on the shelf and turn towards the blue dwarf.

“Brok?” You took a few steps closer to his work station. Slowly, almost as if you were afraid to spook him. But truthfully you were the one that was afraid.

“Oh what? Finally gonna admit you just might like my presence around after all?” He chuckled. You smiled. And earnestly told him that of course you like having him around. He’s kinda an ass. But a funny ass. And humor can make up for a lot.

“But that’s not what I wanna talk about. This might not make sense but…” breath in. Breath out. “If you had knowledge of the future. And you knew a lot of bad things would happen, some even preventable, would you try and stop it?” He scrunches his eyebrows together and asks where this was all coming from. “Atreus told you and Sindri that I’m not from this world. And I’m not. But there’s a lot more to it than just that. I know things. Things about this place and how certain things are gonna play out.” You finally step up to the work table and stare down at him. “Týr is alive. That’s true. It’s also true that he’s locked up somewhere. But the Týr that is being brought back here is not the real one. He’s a fake. It’s Odin. Please you have to believe me. I know I sound out of it and crazy but we need to figure out a way to keep him out of this house.” With that small piece of information off your chest you felt like you can finally breathe again. Sure, you didn’t spill your guts on everything you knew, but it was a start. You look down towards Brok, eyes slightly watering. Lying is easy, but telling the truth is fucking hard. Brok holds his breath for a moment before billowing out a barely there laugh.

“Ok, well that sounds like a load of crockshit but weirder things have happened before.” You had a pleading look in your eyes and before you can beg for him to believe you some more, he continued. “Look, don’t go all teary eyed on me. I don’t need anyone thinking I yelled at ya or somethin’.” You wiped you eyes. “And if what you say is really true then why didn’t you tell the bozos before they went galavanting off to find the fucker?”

“I didn’t know how to tell them! I didn’t know how to bring it up! How do you expect I go about telling literal gods that I know their entire life story?” He squints up at you before asking, “So the Týr thing isn’t the only thing you know. What all else you got locked up in that big ol’ head of yours?”

“A lot.” You bite your lip. “Everything.”

“Streð mik. Ok well, we can’t get rid of him outright or he’ll think somethings up.” You nod. Sounds good. Odin already thinks you might be a key to stopping Ragnarok and you don’t want to confirm that yes, you are one, to his face.

“So… what do we do?” He looks at you sternly. “Nothin’.” What?

“What do you mean we do nothing? How is that gonna help anything?” He rolls his eyes before he turns his back towards you. Working on God only knows what.

“If you haven’t forgotten, you’re mortal. You can’t DO anything. Especially against someone as conniving as the All-Fucker himself. We lay low. Watch him. And I highly suggest you find someway to get Kratos alone so you can tell him everything you know.” He turns around, feeling the grimace on your face as you say nothing. “And I mean everything.”

“But… what if there are some things that are better left… unsaid?”

“Don’t start that shit with me.” You sigh and make your way back to your room. “Fine. Let me know when they’re here if I’m asleep.” Brok scoffs before saying you can wake your damn self up. Rolling your eyes you close your door and wait for your inevitable doom. Why does Kratos have to be so damn intimidating?

It doesn’t take long for everyone to return to the house. Imposter in tow. You walk out of your room and are greeted by Atreus. He beckons to you wildly. Most likely wanting you to meet this God he thinks so highly of. Oh if only he knew. You step forward with a small awkward smile on your face. “(Y/n) this is Týr. Like from all the stories I’ve told you about. Týr this is (Y/n), the human we told you about.” He turns to you, the same golden eyes that you’re used to seeing from Mimir staring back at you.

“Oh, so you must be the girl from… another time was it?” You nod. “Yea, something like that.” He hums. “In all my travels I haven’t heard of a story quite like yours. Excuse me but I would love some rest without Odin’s eyes on me. But after, I would like to continue our talk. I’m sure you have some very fascinating stories.” You nod once more in acceptance before turning away and letting him rest. Atreus catches up to you and asks what you think. About Týr you presume.

“Uh ya know… he’s a dude I guess?” He gives you a look as to say ‘Really?’ “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve never prayed to any gods back home and I certainly won’t be now.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to get at and you know that. It’s just…” he sighs. “We’re finally closer to getting answer. Answers to questions I’ve been asking myself for so long. We’re not there yet. But we are one step closer. Can’t I be happy about that?” You stare at him with a knowing look in your eyes. “Of course you can be happy about that Atreus. Honestly, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. And your dad. Happiness. You both deserve that. But please, don’t let the prospect of answers cloud your judgement.” Atreus reaches out to you as you walk away.

“(Y/n)…”

“Look, I’m just a bit tired ok. I think I’m going to get some rest.” And with that you walked back in to your designated room.

“She’s been sleeping a lot lately. Is she ok?” Atreus sighs. “Yeah Sin, she’s fine. Let’s just leave her be for now.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I’m back from the dead! Not really. Look I’ve been an Obey Me mood lately and I still am tbh. Those demon boys do something to me fiercely but I’ve been rewatching Ragnarok and also been rereading one of my fave HeimdallxReader stories and I got hit with a bit of motivation. (If you haven’t read The Pickpocket by @engardeitsme then you are missing out.

I know it’s not the longest chapter but I’m bored with just writing a play by play of the game because the reader can’t be there for most of it. So there will be a bit of a time skip starting off next chapter but it’s all good. Hopefully that’s not too bothersome.

And with that here are my lovely readers and I’ll see all of you, next chapter, byeeee!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist: @sumebuddy @sissontrinity123 @different4black @r6co @slaying69696969 @dijanur @frog-cultist @jamellemal @star-angel1 @mrsurrealism @ladysaribu @shirocchi13 @noxiemoon @fullmoonwolfer1 @forg1 @onix-a @silvergoldraeven @inky-weeaboo-weirdo14 @fandomcatchall @Imorg149 @doubledaredevil @screaming-potato @6demonica9 @einsvei @mad4hugs @oreocookie24 @lunaryasha @rustypotatospork @love-giselle @entityunbound @nixeustheclamity @majestichugs @blazingstarsblog @cheesewithasideofcheese @photos-fantasy-and-scifi @shycandykitty @photographykomiko @snoriander @lunamomo @rowanlovesmoonknight @fairytale202 @cbradio18 @fantasticcollectordefendor @coochie-crawler @booksandblanketnests @sun-bae @anything-scary @frida-oydna @couldyoutellmewhatsreal @damonsalavatore-best @tnnadia @dddraven @longshlong2 @crunchychicken1231 @multifangrell @actualhawkesworld @coralpositivityclassroomsoul @pugger775 @mr-trick @romanzpixxa-blog @violet2507 @bonsaijoons @zoleea-exultant

[the-slasher-files]

PERFECT OPPONENT

"You look good with my hands around your throat" - ALEX KELLER

Another quick prompt, readers callsign is Koda. Enjoy 🔪🤍

MASTERLIST

The blue mat was spongey against your feet once you stood, another rookie was laid out and done upon your force. It's not that you had strength or size necessarily, you had just learned how to take full advantage of your speed and momentum. Finding your niche among the predators of a dangerous jungle.

"Alright," you huffed, propping a leg up on the bench as you took a swig of water, eyeing up your next potential suiter, but he found you instead.

"How many rookies are you sending out in body bags, Koda?" You could hear the smile in his voice before you even turned around, meeting those warm azure eyes.

"Not my fault the force brought in children wearing their mom's heels," you chuckled as he joined in with a shake of his.

"I've only got one heel on, so I should have less of a problem" Alex chimed with such a sweetness to his voice, pointing to his newly metal leg.

It wasn't a secret around the base that you and him had found interest within one another; Invading each other's space with soft touches, gazes across the debriefing table, walking off together to grab coffee in the morning before drills and even cuddling on the couches when it was movie night. When you work together on the same task force and put your life on the line for one another, shit becomes real and you two knew that better than anyone, in relationships and bonds. Without thinking, Alex placed an arm around your shoulders, suddenly dwarfing you in colored ink and muscle, but you didn't mind at all. Welcoming his warmth as you trailed a hand under his left collar bone, eyes sparkling as if the world was just you and him.

"Just makeout already!" Soap yelled across 2 mats as he had a rookie in a headlock, the poor man looked as red as a tomato under the Scots brutal biceps as he cackled.

Rolling your eyes, you called back. "You might wanna check on the rookie who's passing out there, soapy" The laughter instantly stopped as you heard him curse and deadweight hit the mat. Poor fella.

Inhaling a deep breath to steady yourself, you drew your attention back to the man that stepped onto the mat. You could tell he was a little uneased at the feeling of the metal shifting against the foam, but he quickly collected himself as well. As laid back and casual as ever with a smile on his face. Truthfully, you had never grappled with Alex before. He, just like you, had opted for long range rather and negotiations than a close battle, however, sticky situations were never lost in your head.

"Ready?"

"Ready." He affirmed back.

Surprisingly, Alex moved first, gripping your arm and pulling your back against his toned chest with an accomplished huff upon your neck, his lips grazing your skin. Swallowing quickly, you countered, hooking your leg around his right and drawing your momentum to flip his weight to the floor with a thud before straddling Alex's lean waist, with hands around his throat. Blue eyes widened but that signature smirk was still bright as ever.

"You look good with my hands around your throat" You boldly whispered, your tongue darting out to wet your lips in a toothy, devilish smile.

The quip never made him miss a beat, raising his hips and pinning your body beneath his in a rush of blurred motion. Alex's large hands easily grasped yours, holding them above your head as his thighs pressed yours open, the bite of metal pinning your ankle bubbling out a moan in you.

"They can be there anytime, sweetheart"

[dxnse-macabre]

GET TO KNOW YOUR MUSE BETTER

✩ — 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE? : tall, at least according to the dnd player handbook. the average height for elves ranges from under 5' to above 6'. he's on the taller end of the scale.

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT ? : yes!! he loves being able to look down at others, gives him some feeling of superiority.

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE? : white, curly. he puts a hint of product in his hair so it at least stays out of his face when he fights (his secret is aloe. both serves as some sort of shampoo/conditioner and hair gel to keep his hair in place.) if you run your hands through his hair right after he took a bath without any aloe, it's very soft.

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING? : of course! you will NEVER catch him with greasy hair, unless it is right after a fight-- but the second he's back at camp, he's the first person in the river bathing. while he has fun killing and gutting others, he doesn't like it when he feels sticky, sweaty, and gross.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK ? : the one thing he has left that is his is his appearance, so of course he'd be very particular about it. he relishes in the fact that he's very attractive, and holds it very dear to his heart (that's also why he refuses to take the astral tadpole)

✩ — 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.

▸ INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? : outdoors. he can get claustrophobic if indoors is too... indoors.

▸ RAIN OR SUNSHINE? : he loves the sun. he misses it.

▸ FOREST OR BEACH? : forest. he doesn't like sand; it gets in places you never want it to be.

▸ PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS? : gems. he would love to rock some rings with precious stones on them.

▸ FLOWERS OR PERFUMES? : perfumes. he loves smelling amazing.

▸ PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE? : personality. he doesn't care if you're a dwarf. he doesn't care if you're an orc. or a tiefling. or a gith. he finds his partners sexy either way, so as long as they respect his boundaries and listen to him

▸ BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD? : depends. he likes to be the life of the party and draw everyone's attention. but being alone?... sometimes he needs a moment to think by himself. but he's also afraid of dying alone, so...

▸ ORDER OR ANARCHY? : anarchy. let's fuck some shit up

▸ PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES? : white lies. he'd lie his ass everywhere he goes if that meant that he lives or that it saves someone from a moment of hurt. he really believes in the whole, "ignorance is bliss" thing.

▸ SCIENCE OR MAGIC? : magic. he gives gale a lot of shit for being a magical wizard guy, but... truth be told, he's pretty jealous. he wishes that he could just burn everyone that touches him in a way he doesn't like.

▸ PEACE OR CONFLICT? : conflict. he loves the drama

▸ NIGHT OR DAY? : day. night is nice, but he relishes the daylight when he can.

▸ DUSK OR DAWN? : dusk. this is the prime time to get up to no good

▸ WARMTH OR COLD? : warmth. he needs a hug

▸ MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS? : few close friends. he needs them. he has too many people that know his body, but not who he is.

▸ READING OR PLAYING A GAME? : reading. you guys know the idle animation LOL

✩ — 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS? : he's a, "glass half-empty" kind of guy. he's inclined to be very self-centered and pragmatic, and also jealous of those that tav helps out. it always goes back to the whole, "why weren't you there so you could have helped me when i needed it most" kind of thing.

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM? : his family. his friends in his past life. his mortality. he lost so much, and he has to live with that for however long he has left. he's afraid to watch all of the companions live out their last days, due to his immortality.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS? : honestly? he doesn't have much. the new memories that he makes now are the best memories he has. if he tries to think of the past, his good memories from his life before... he can't remember.

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL? : yeah. it's too easy for him to take away a life. he's been doing it for so long, he often forgets that the people he killed had lives that they left behind.

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN? : it's emotional, explosive. if he's angry, he has angry tears running down his cheeks. don't trust him with a knife or anything else, because he will stab someone/something. if it's a depressed breakdown, he falls to his knees. he might even slam his fists or claw at the ground if he feels like he's been wronged and doesn't feel like he deserved whatever he got. then, there's a calm after the storm. he goes catatonic for a while and tries to process what happened.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE? : he's afraid to, but he's capable. you need to get through several barriers first before he takes it in stride. he needs to trust you first. otherwise, he'll think that you're trying to force him to be indebted to you.

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE? : he's afraid. he's afraid to see how it ends up, afraid to fuck it up, but he's also so certain that it's what he wants. he holds it close, but holds you like porcelain. i like to think that the real astarion, the mortal one from almost 200 years ago, comes back. he learns how to live again. he learns that he isn't just an object. he learns that he's more than what the world made him out to be, thanks to you. he will search far and wide for something that can "cure" your mortality without giving your soul to the devil... but if he can't find that? he's still happy that it happened, and will want to die by your side once you two have lived a happy life together.

tagged by: the one and only @wildskissed tagging: @crimesought @murderbled @nightsdogma + anyone else that wants to do this!

[bigsloth101]

Making a record of my first game in dwarf fortress to reach over two years played. Screenshots may turn out terribly.

This is Ubbulisan, which means "Vaultstilled". It was settled in the early spring of the year 250. It is currently the 19th of Limestone, early autumn, in the year 255. The fort has recently become the capital of our civilization, Zan Kon, or "The artifact of masters".

The location of Vaultstilled is circled in black. It is located on a volcano (that I've forgotten the name of) on the edge of a forest. To the north there are elven and human civilizations, to the south there is a goblin civilization as well as more humans. Most of the wooden items in Vaultstilled were bought from the elves in order to not anger them by chopping too many trees.

Layer 1: The entrance, public tavern, trading hall, barracks, archery range, and wood furnaces.

The entrance to Vaultstilled is protected by a ditch and drawbridge, and walls. This ensures no attackers can enter, apart from those that can fly, which is why there is a second drawbridge deeper into the entrance. The entrance also features a public tavern, where any traveler can stay and sample some dwarven ale. Beyond the second drawbridge is the trading hall, floored with microcline and cobaltite. There are also barracks and an archery range. The above-ground army is stationed in these areas during an attack, as the last line of defense if the drawbridges do not pull up in time. The wood furnaces are here because there wasn't a place on the lower level I wanted to put them.

Layer 2: Levers, Farming, woodworking, kitchen, fortress tavern, clothes production, leatherworking, bedrooms, tombs, guildhalls, lower nobles' and administrators' offices and dining areas, hospital, and soap production?

This layer is really big as I decided I wanted all my plant and animal workshops on the same floor. I did not understand the scale when I decided that. Future fortresses will probably move either the sleeping, dining, and office spaces to another level, or they will have storage on another level. This set-up worked fine but I'd like to spread the fortress over more levels in the future. I started working on figuring out soap production on the far right of the image, just above the large sandy area, but it's not something I fully grasp yet. Very unhygienic. I found so much gold in this fortress, I decided to make lots of gold statues, so I think all the guildhalls are max level. I don't know how this screenshot will turn out so I apologise if it's difficult to figure out what a certain room is. All the levers for the bridges are on this level around the main staircase as it is the most well-trafficked area.

Layer 3: More rooms, gem cutting and setting, stoneworking, and dungeons.

There are 50 rooms to a floor, in future fortresses I may try to fit more rooms to a floor, but I don't know the population cap so I don't know if it's worth it. Vaultstilled is currently at 197 dwarfs. I didn't know where to put the dungeons so I put them where I had space. I really enjoy the gem cutting and setting in this game, it feels really good when a dwarf masterfully improves a masterfully built item. However, there was a lot of trouble initially as I did not understand how the process of encrusting really worked so Vaultstilled is the proud owner of many gem-encrusted cups and an extremely well-decorated door that later went to the duchess to improve her room.

Layer 4: Even more rooms, the king's room, the outpost liaison's room, the duchess's room, the king's and outpost liaison's dining area, offices, and tombs, the forge, metalworking, the temples, and a library.

I chose a volcano to get easy access to magma, I know there is supposed to be lots of it far underground but then I would either have to use pumps (haven't figured it out yet) or put the forges way underground and use something called burrows? so people don't have to walk an eternity on staircases. I have so many metal bars. Every bin I build is instantly taken by the evergrowing metal bar stockpile. Most of it is copper. There are 3 major religions in Vaultstilled, from smallest to largest, the competitive communion, the communion of cover, and the faith of tops. Only the faith of tops has a high priest, with a total of 27 worshippers. However, all the religions have temple complexes due to all the gold statues I built. The temples are located in the circle areas in the top right, while the big square room hosts general worship of any god. I built a lower area into the general area cause I thought it might look cool. I think now a raised area might've looked better. I bought a load of books and scrolls so I made a library I don't really know what it's for. The bigger rooms on the far left top corner are the outpost liaison, king, and duchess rooms.

Layer 5: Magma chamber, lower general temple, more rooms

This level was really only supposed to be for the magma but I needed more rooms and space for the big temple. I dug out the magma chamber first, sealed it off, then channeled out the wall from above in the forge room.

Layer 6: The underground barracks, well, hospital corridor, and the entrance of the mine.

The well goes all the way down to the caverns to collect water. Many people have died from thirst as I did not realise sick dwarfs need water. The hospital wasn't built close to the main staircase so I just dug down to the same level as the well and built the hospital corridor, on the leftmost side. The main space is the underground army barracks, formed to take on any threat from the caverns. The drawbridge is there to buy time for the army to arrive.

Marble mine

I found marble and I think building stuff out of marble is cool so I dug a huge area of it out. Then I realised you can use marble to make steel and dug more. I think most of this level is marble so now it's the marble mine level.

The caverns

Spooky area, full of water and bad things. No one has been in there yet as I'm trying to figure out how to get down to the floor. This is where Vaultstilled's water comes from. There's some fish there too so that's also cool. I've read there are 3 cavern layers I hope all of them are not full of water. I got a notification once my king was happy about going deeper for some special metal so that's probably my next goal.

So yeah that's Vaultstilled, the first fortress I would consider successful, if anyone has read this far hope you enjoyed this summary although this was really just to make a record of what I've done so far. It's been a long and confusing few months since I bought this game but I am completely obsessed and excited to see what gets added in the future as I understand the game is still not finished.