#old god builder

[skelotom]

Lots of you voted for this, and I hope I delivered.

Thanks for helping in the creative process with this old god. This was a super fun project!

I was going to make one last poll asking what this is the god of, but old gods are inscrutable. You helped make this, it is only fair that this is the god of whatever you want it to be.

Thank you <3

[muchmossymess]

give me your headcanons for a minecraft server with the fmab kids

[widowshill]

the locket, motherhood, & marriage.

139 / 139 / 136 / 136 / 191 / 191 / 191 / 142 / 134 / 143 / 143 / 144 / 144 / 139 script / 144 / 280 / 144 / 144 / 192 / 279 / 279 / 279 / 279 / 143

[isychiaa]

what gets me about the Minecraft Movie trailer is that THEY COULD HAVE JUST RIPPED OF THE LEGO MOVIE WITH WAYYYY BETTER RESULTS.

Think about it:

11 year old boy wakes up in Minecraft. Sees the innate beauty of the world. Creates buildings. Is worshipped as a God by villagers. Protects said villagers from mobs. Lives in village. 11 year old boy ages up to 15 and 'beats the game'. With a frame narrative of it being on the computer and how his love of Minecraft translates to a love of the real world. Coming of age, soft environmentalism, community co-operation as themes. idk

Like 'steve' as the master builder type beat.

Instead of ripping off Jumanji but 10 times worse why don't they just rip off the Lego Movie? It's right there.

[illwilledomen]

Adults n’ babies.

Info below.

Villagers (and all Testificates)

- Children have tufts of hair, and bald during puberty.

- The darker pigment in their proboscis occurs during puberty. They also grow into their noses.

- Kids are kind of scrunkly and wrinkly, like Sphinx cat kittens. They’re also very small, and have huge growth spurts once they hit their teenage years.

- Adult villagers are incredibly tall, and lack much visible hair aside from fine body hair, light facial hair (like stubble) and eyebrows, which are bristly and whisker-like. Another noticeable feature is their short philtrum and near lack of a visible upper lip. Their noses are as sensitive as human lips, and are typically used in the same way for affection and gesture. Villager proboscis can scrunch, wrinkle and twitch, moving to follow scents like the noses of elephant shrews.

- Villagers have much keener senses of smell than humans, and can produce a wider range of sounds.

Piglin

- Much like villagers, piglets start fuzzy and bald into wrinkly adult piglin.

- Piglets learn to vocally emote first, then sign phrases later on. Piglin use vocalisations as emotional context cues for the more complex sentences they sign.

- Piglin sows have litters of up to six piglets. Most of these piglets will die, particularly if it’s a nomadic horde, so they only receive proper names at one and a half nether years, or when they begin to grow out of their camouflage stripes.

- Piglets are born with stripes and an earthier pigment to help them hide from Infernal predators.

Endermen

- Endermen give birth through their mouth. They do breed asexually, though some Endermen do recreationally partake in what is possibly intercourse. It’s hard for Enderologists to tell.

- The offspring spends ten years inside of a nutrient sac before emerging as an Ender-child. The Ender-child will slowly develop features like limbs and a complex digestive system, though it begins with only a torso, a brain and a pair of eyes. These eyes are non-functional as psionic communicators, which is their secondary purpose in adults.

- They excrete an oily substance that repels Endermites and keeps them moisturized enough to move. As the larvae matures, it will develop the velvety exoskeleton of an adult Enderman. It will also begin to omit psionic frequencies, though these begin as nonsensical bursts of information.

- They mature at 100 years old. Most of this 100 years is spend engorging on chorus fruit, stem and endstone mineral salts. They have no emotional connection to their parent, as eventually they will develop enough to join the Chorus and become one conscious Being. Alternatively, they can worship a void God and become an Endersent.

Players

- Players were primarily constructed by Rana of the Elphar Senate of Builders, or artificers under her command. Most players were raised either in the Garden, an enclosed sterilized “meadow” next to the Senate building, or within the ancient city.

- They have three brains. The Animal, aka a normal human brain, the Purpose, an information tablet which dictates their robotic instincts, Basic Information and function, and the Soul, which enables emotion and sapience.

- Steve was constructed as The Builder, Alex was constructed as The Hunter, and Hero was constructed as The Friend, but is commonly referred to simply as the first. Hero destroyed two other players before he was supposedly decommissioned.

- Players begin existence as entirely androgynous beings, and may transition into genders upon discovering them. Gender is not encoded onto the Basic Information tablet, so they may struggle to understand it. Steve has adopted a masculine identity, enjoys it, though expresses confusion at being called a “male”.

[jamesdaycare]

“Oh Jamie, very good! It’s very mature of you to tell Miss Avery that you need to go potty! Someone just earned himself a gold star on his potty training chart!”

“You’re making so much progress! Pretty soon you’ll be out of pull-ups and into some cute tighty-whities. Awww and your potty dance it’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! You’re gonna have an accident any minute! What if I make you wait for two more minutes? After all big boys have to know they can’t go potty right away, and sometimes they have to wait a little longer…”

“Hahaha I’m just messing around with you! You got so scared! Here, let me help you get your shorts off. Awww, you just have the cutest pull-up design! Is that Bob The Builder? Your mommy sure chooses nice designs! Thank god you told me you needed to go, It’d have been a shame to soak them!”

“Come on, take your pull-ups off and make your tinkles on the plastic potty. No sweetie, you know you’re not allowed to use the big boys potty yet. Besides, if we’d go over there you won’t be able to hold it and you’d end up having an accident! You wouldn’t want that, would you? That’s what I thought!”

“Awww you have a very small pee pee! That’s why you were getting all shy? What is it, 2 inches? No baby, not all 21 years old boys have that size. I’d say that’s more toddler size actually! But I guess it’s no surprise since you’re still dealing with your potty training. You’re not like the other boys your age. You’re a momma’s boy yet! Oh! I hear the pitter patter on the potty! Remember to always point down your pee pee so you don’t make splashies!”

“Good job Jamie! So much tinkles! We’ll tell mommy about this! She’ll be so proud her baby boy made it to the potty on time. Now come give Miss Avery a big hug! Uh-oh… Someone’s baby carrot is getting extra pokey! We better put you fast again in your pull-ups so you don’t have another kind of accident…” *giggle*

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

How would you order your stories in terms of fantasy? From most fantasy elements to least.

Oh Jesus okay

The Princess in the Tower -- A straightup dragon-guarding-princess story. Hard to get more fantasy than that.

Gentle Nerandi -- Name magic and selkies. Again, pretty self-explanatory.

A Cinderella Premise/ A Cinderella Sequel -- It's. Cinderella.

Curse Words: Spellcasting for Fun and Prophet -- It's a magic school series.

Original Sin -- The inciting incident in this one is the protagonist killing a god.

Angel -- This is probably the last indisputably fantasy story on the list, but I'd argue that many more of my stories have Fantasy Vibes.

Breakfast Time -- We're getting into superhero territory here. From here on out, we start to move more into scifi.

World Builder -- It's hard to classify this one. I guess you'd put it in whatever genre you'd put the Library of Babel in.

How to Escape the Well -- not even gonna try to classify this.

Drops of Blood like Neon Stars -- It's vampires. They have a bullshit "scientific" explanation, but it's vampires.

The Void Princess -- This one has future people living in space stations, but they do also "psychically" connect (connect wirelessly via brain implant) to each other and fly robot dragons through space, so.

Child of a Wandering Star -- To the human in this story, this is a standard scifi adventure. To the alien protagonist, this is an epic fantasy quest and she is the Chosen One.

Charlie MacNamara -- Scifi, but with an old-fashioned Plucky Human Hero Saves the Day kind of vibe.

Rebirth/ New Rules and Guidelines From HR For Working With Humans/ Isolation Hysteria/ Unknown Complications/Love at First Sip -- all short stories exploring simple scifi concepts

The Back End of Time -- A time travel scifi story, but I did get to build a fun world for it

Copy <|> Paste -- This is just a thesis about Star Trek teleporters

Time to Orbit: Unknown -- This is about as hard as my scifi gets. There's still a few 'magic' handwavey tech bits in there, but nothing I'd call fantasy.

Wasting Time -- The social implications of time dilation due to near-lightspeed starship travel are not generally considered fantasy. (Now, if the time dilation was from going through a magic portal, on the other hand...)

[trying-harder-then-u]

Philip wasn't used to all the stares he was getting from his workers; for god's sake, he was the CEO, and they should be paying respect to him, but instead all the builders to whom he paid the salary just stared in confusion and pity at the tall man in his suit guiding the investors around the construction site.

His black suit, thin build, and clean-shaven appearance drew a harsh contrast to the men that watched. The bored faces of the investors showed that they were just as interested in this as he was, so it was a respite when he managed to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

Stumbling along, dirt and dust caking his boots, he finally ran into the manager of the property, a bulky man with a short fuse. "Where is the bathroom?" he inquired, only greeted by a judging glance as he stared down. "It's employee only; the public bathroom is a block away." Philip was shocked by the never-ending argument, but he made a mental note to find some recourse for the attitude. He picked his way through the clogged city blocks, finally coming to the public bathrooms.

As he walked into the graffiti-covered stall, he felt his disgust build as he saw a strange liquid covering not just the floor but the bathrooms and walls as well. and judging from the smell, he could tell where this liquid came from. Knowing that he didn't have time to waste, he quickly rolled up toilet paper and wiped down the seat of the toilet. After a few seconds, he went to chuck it when he stepped into a large puddle of cum, glaring at the gunk stuck on his heel. Using the wall to support him as he tried to scrape it off, he only managed to get it on his clothes before finally feeling more drip from the roof on top of his bald head.

Now thoroughly disgusted, he went to leave but found he couldn't; he seemed to be...

rooted to the spot? Phillip's whole body began to shiver as his eyes moved rapidly in his sockets. The shivering began to localize on his legs as a cracking sound filled the air. Did the door seem to grow bigger and bigger, or was he getting smaller? He remembered from the view that his height had gone from 6 feet 3 to 5 feet 6. His mind kept screaming as his body tingled, his thin arms tingled, and he began to thicken along with his legs, a small gut growing out.

His pale skin soon would change too as his skin darkened and tanned, matching that of his many workers. changed rapidly now, his once clean, shaven body growing hair all over and his slightly below-average "tool" shrinking a few inches. Finally able to leave, he felt his head fuzz as if his thoughts were being yelled at him through glass, but he did begin to panic when he didn't return to his investors but rather to the man. "Where have you been?" Phillip thought he was yelling; he couldn't hear anything, though. Looking down, his clothes also changed to a plain tee and some shorts; he truly looked just like a worker now.

The next 5 hours, his body went on autopilot, working harder than his old body ever had, but when the work day finally ended, he kept walking to a house he had never seen, climbing stairs after stairs before finally coming to a door that reeked of cum and sweat. Opening in, he saw a young Latino man, no pants, and busy playing some kind of video game. He somehow knew that this was the man whose cum had covered the bathroom that had caused all this.

glancing over the man—his boyfriend? No, that can't be. He was married, and his thoughts were getting harder. Mmm, Phillipe could see the bulge in the other man's underwear, and the other man obviously could see Phillipe's eyes. "Why don't you come help Daddy out, baby?" excitedly he moved forward and began stripping his BF. "That's it, ik you liked the stuff you found in the bathroom you slut, come get some from the source" as he greedily sucked away his memories. Natural, his Spanish accent? attractive to the ladies, not like he needs it with his boyfriend around. His memories shifted fully, and Philip was gone. He was Philip, a Mexican immigrant working hard so his hot boyfriend could play games. His life was difficult with working and then doing all the chores, but at least he got some good dick. and not a person would miss who he was...

[gallium-spoon]

Ah yes, my favorite Magnus Archives antagonists such as:

Chain smoking anglerfish

Worms who commit identity theft

Delivery men who canonically look exactly like delivery men

Man who is also a maze

Woman who is also a maze who ate man who was also a maze

Hey, wasn't your coworker shorter yesterday?

Body builder who... Well, take a guess

Old man who just really fucking loves heights

Diversity win! Arsonist serial killer who serves a god of destruction has a lesbian crush on her God's Messiah

Homophobic vase (I couldn't leave out the homophobic vase)

Honestly are we sure that's not just a really big pig?

What if your shitty manager tricked you into the thrall of a dark god?

Man who just wants to die alone

The circus is in town! Oh no!

Woman who sees absolutely no downside to extinguishing the sun

Have you heard this new band? Their music is to die for!

Spiders

[brossession-collection]

Dad's Cam Show (Re-uploaded)

Note: This is a story I wrote in 2020 that was previously deleted by Tumblr. Couldn't find it until I stumbled upon am old hard drive. Hope you enjoy.

--

This social distancing shit is so boring. I get it. It’s needed. But god damn am I running out of things to do. Can’t even meet the guys I’ve been talking to on Grindr. Worse yet is that I’m stuck back at home. I was supposed to graduate college this year! Instead I was slumped over a computer screen in my PJs with my dad making his special pancakes. Ugh. Fuck this shit. I just wish I could go back to a better time.

Whatever. I’m done complaining. Dad’s getting groceries which means I can snoop around his shit. Yeah I’m that bored.

Dad’s a big burly guy. Heading into his mid-forties now and starting to gray up a little, but still keeping his body builder life style. He’s pretty open with me. He told me he used to do cam shows back before livestreams were even a thing. Made sense. Had to show off the bod somehow. Don’t know how mom thought about it but whatever. She’s out of the picture.

His room always had a musky woodsy cologne-y smell. His laundry hamper was even better. I always loved taking his briefs out of there and putting them on myself. I’ve been following his footsteps and bodybuilding myself, but I’m still a ways away before I have an ass and waist as large as his. So his 36in undies droop a bit. I grabbed his black cap too. Man. He loves this thing. Well, plus the 10 others caps he has. He always had it topping his head. Pretty sure he wears it to sleep too. I put it on and flexed like him. I got a bit of a boner but nothing crazy.

His dinosaur of a laptop was open, and logged in. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did it anyways. There were so many folders within folders. So much boring shit… and then I found “cam pics.”

The briefs I was wearing tented and wetted. Fuck I was so scared to open it. But I clicked it and… In there was only one image. I clicked on it to make it bigger and it was my dad. About 13 years ago. He was shirtless, and wearing the same cap that I have on my head right now. My eyes drifted from his hairy arms to his chest to eventually his bearded face. He looked so… tired? There was something about the softness in his expression that really got to me. And then…

“Hey son! I’m home! Could ya help me with the groceries?”

Shit. I got up and scrambled. The briefs were soaked and still being soaked. I had so many windows to close out of. Then I started hearing his footsteps come closer. I panicked and grabbed the top of the laptop to close it, but I couldn’t move. Suddenly, all the windows on the screen started to close. All except for the image of dad I had opened it. It enlarged by itself, and then the laptop started to fucking shake. I tried to get it to stop but it just kept rumbling. Fuck it. I wound up my fist and punched the screen. But there was no impact.

In less than a second my body followed my wrist into the screen. Everything went bright, and I was in a different room. I looked around. It looked like my parents’ room at our old house. The same laptop was in front of me showing the same image as before. Dad’s younger face looking back… And then I saw his eyes move. I froze. I looked at the time. 12:56 turned to 12:57. This wasn’t an image. It was a fucking livestream.

I slowly tilted my head. Dad did the same. I widened my eyes. So did dad. A smile crept over our faces. I just time travelled! And into dad’s body! Fuck there was so much I could do now!

“PING”

A old-school AIM notification popped up on screen. I maneuvered dad’s hand to the mouse and clicked on it. “Hey daddy. You gonna give us a show or what?”

“PING”

“Let’s see those hairy pits man!”

Fuck. I guess dad wasn’t kidding about these cam shows. Shit how do I reply? Do I just say something?

“Uh…” I gulped. Dad’s gruff voice was in my throat. “You guys mean… uh… this?” I lifted and flexed dad’s right arm. Immediately his armpit hair bursted out. Moist and smelly. My nose naturally turned towards the sweaty pit. Holy fuck was it musky. I took a deep whiff and groaned.

“PING. PING. PING. PING.”

“Fuck yeah daddy. Sniff that pit.”

“God damn you’re a big guy. How’s it feel huh?”

It felt amazing being so big. Watching everything I was doing be reflected by my dad on the recording was even better. The cockiness came in.

I wheeled the office chair back and did a double bicep pose. Sweat dripped off his hairy pits. I gave my face a rub and felt his beard scratch against his callused fingers. Then my hands felt the need to go down to his chest. I never felt so much pleasure from nipple rubbing in my life. The pings kept on coming. It was euphoric.

Dad’s cock was tenting the briefs I had put on earlier. I uncaged his 7 incher and let out a whiff of junk musk that filtered into my nose immediately. I started stroking and couldn’t stop. My other hand reached under dad’s taint, through the forest of pubes, and rammed a dildo into my dad’s ass crack.

“PING. PING. PING.”

“Holy fuck this is new! We gonna see a fingering show today!?”

“God damn man you enjoying yourself?”

I was. Everytime Dad’s moans left my throat I felt cock twitch a little bit harder. It just felt so amazing to feel his beefy arms rub against his beefy chest. His toes curling with every electric shock of pleasure moving through his beefy ass and legs.

I shot his load. Let out a gutteral yell. And it didn’t stop coming. My beard was soaked with three shots of cum. Chest was drenched with eight more. At this point, sweat was trickling down my temples. I relished in dad’s orgasm and then relaxed in the chair.

I watched as the notifications went crazy. Dad’s soft eyes housing my consciousness. Ugh. It felt incredible. I glanced over at his hat and felt the need to take it off. I did, and felt a wave of cool relief come off my head. Dad’s hair was cropped short, like a messy crew cut. And it was dripping with sweat. I felt the need to say something.“You like that, men?” Dad had so much suave in voice. The pings accelerated.I smiled and played with my cock. I could feel another round coming but felt a bigger presence unfold. Suddenly dad’s body started to shake. I tried controlling it, but I couldn’t weigh him down. My arms were flailing before my hands grabbed onto the edges of the desk. I whipped my head back, then head-butted the laptop screen. Light filtered through.

I was back at home, in my dad’s loose fitting briefs, his cap nestled on my head. Dad’s footsteps came by, then turned another direction. Guess he wasn’t coming by his room just yet. I looked down at his briefs, now soaked with my cum. Fuck. Was it just a dream?

It must’ve been. Just a fucking horny fever dream. What the fuck ever. Better than what I had been doing up until now. I leaned over to close the laptop but noticed something.

The image had turned into a recording.

[blueiscoool]

Rome’s Ancient Arch of Constantine Struck by Lightening

During a storm on September 3, lightning struck Rome’s Arch of Constantine, chipping the structure’s marble surface. The 1,700-year-old arch and its neighbor, the Colosseum, were two of several sites affected by the thunderstorm, which produced 2.36 inches of rain in less than an hour. Usually, the city sees a similar amount over the entire month of September.

“A lightning strike hit the arch right here and then hit the corner,” a tourist at the site told Reuters’ Alberto Lingria. “We saw this fly off,” the tourist added while pointing to a fallen block of stone.

Finished in 315 C.E., the Arch of Constantine is one of Rome’s three surviving ancient triumphal arches, each erected to honor a person or event. This arch commemorates Constantine I’s 312 victory over the emperor Maxentius. That same year, Constantine devoted himself to Christianity—the first Roman ruler to do so.

The fierce storm also felled two large trees near the Circus Maximus, flooded the Trevi Fountain and flooded the Colosseum’s subterranean tunnels, reports CNN. After lightning struck the arch, staff of the Colosseum Archaeological Park quickly gathered its dislodged pieces and placed them in a secure location, according to a statement from Italy’s Ministry of Culture.

In the days that followed, some tourists stumbled upon additional pieces on the ground.

​​“My American group found these fragments, and we’re handing them over to the workmen,” tour guide Serena Giuliani told the London Times’ Tom Kington on the morning of September 4.

Specialists are now examining the condition of the fragments. Officials say the damage was limited to the monument’s southern side, where unrelated restoration work had started just days earlier, allowing for quick repairs.

At roughly 70 feet tall and 85 feet wide, the Arch of Constantine contains three separate arches, each framed by columns. The intricately decorated structure is adorned with recycled fragments, or spolia, taken from other ancient buildings, including monuments honoring Trajan, Hadrian and Marcus Aurelius.

The arch is also decorated with carvings of Constantine, including a series of reliefs depicting his victorious fight against Maxentius in the Battle of the Milvian Bridge.

In 306, Constantine was leading Roman troops in Britain—then part of the Roman Empire—when his military declared him their emperor. His brother-in-law, Maxentius, also declared himself the emperor around the same time. After years of complex power struggles, the two rulers ultimately faced off in 312 at Rome’s Milvian Bridge, which overlooks the river Tiber. Panels on the Arch of Constantine depict the battle’s conclusion, showing Maxentius’ troops drowning in the river.

The arch’s recent encounter with lightning may have carried spiritual significance for its ancient builders, as “the bolts were believed to be the work of the gods,” per the Times. These spots were sacred for the Romans, who sometimes erected temples at such sites.

By Sonja Anderson.

[skelotom]

Let's Design an old god. I love abominations as much as the next girl, so let’s make something grotesque and beautiful. These linked polls will let us see what they look like. Future polls will let us see other details, like what they are the god of, and their favorite color.

What is their domain? (where do they live?)

What is their body shape?

How many limbs?

How many eyes?

How many mouths?

Creepy or cute?

[faerynova]

PIGLIN BRAIDS

some of my personal lore/ideas for piglins!

hair is incredibly important in piglin culture, and you essentially display your life and who you are and your connections to others through your braids and jewelry

some more details/thoughts under the cut:

about a decade after philza and techno became friends, philza and techno were stuck in the nether when philza was injured (source of his bad leg) and they had to get help from a local bastion. they ended up befriending people and stayed there for about 150-200 years before they finally left, but every few hundred years they go back to spend a few decades there. they also go back specifically whenever philza and trixtin want to have children.

techno has 2 studs in his ear that philza doesn't--they're actually the earrings of his OLD/first sounder which doesn't exist anymore.

a lot of occupations are lumped together--philza's braid specifically means "builder", which refers to architects, artists, smiths, sculptors, and other professions of the same speed.

god/worship braids are meant to be knotted into your hair and stay there until your hair grows out and you have to redo the beads. each commonly recognized god has their own bead patterns, though eut'oob (i yoinked the name from a fic and i dont remember which one aaa if anyone in the notes remembers ill credit it) is a surface god and techno made up his own braid pattern for him because he isnt worshipped in the nether.

piglins have matesprit, moirail, and kismesis jewelry >:] iykyk. emduo are moirails cant change my mind. (techno had kismesis chains/jewelry for squid but that was a long time ago--squid died of old age)

word braiders are a highly valued part of piglin society. the reason it's a piercing and not a braid is because you have to be gifted a nose ring and be approved to get a piercing by another master word braider to show that you're qualified to call yourself one. you can't just put in a braid and call it a day.

wilbur grew up in a bastion till he was like 14/15 but he ended up chopping all of his hair off when he was a teen. techno is the one who gave him his nose ring when he was 17.

thats all i can think of have a nice day <3

[alicesivory]

Old Habits Die Hard [2/?]

Previous Chapter // Main Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pairing: Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader

Genre: Historically accurate Aemond

WC: 3115

Summary: The Night’s Watch was a nightmare to the one eyed prince. Longing for his freedom once more, the gods decided to toss a coin and play with him. Meeting a peculiar wildling that could be his answer. And the Targaryen prince could be the answer to her people. 

“Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honour to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.”

Aemond knelt before the weirwood tree as he spoke the watch’s oath. Although he was devoted to the seven, a hint of guilt lies deep in his heart. He recalls how his mother devoted her life to the seven and prays daily to the sept. Praying for him, Aegon, Helaena, Daeron, her own mother, it felt wrong kneeling in front of the old gods. What would his mother say of him?

Does she know that he’s alive?

Did Lord Stark told her of his fate? 

He could only get lost in his thoughts as he stood up to face his commander. The summer snow falls heavy upon his now black garb, traditionally worn by the order. He should’ve had drowned in that lake alongside with Vhagar and his uncle. Why did the gods saved him just to give him a fate worse than death? 

May the gods be with me.

“Just so you know, new recruits are sorted into three orders. Rangers, warriors of the watch to patrol beyond the wall and fend off any wildling. Then we have Builders, tasked to maintain The Wall itself such as castles, arms, and all that shit. And uh last we have Stewards, cooking and tending horses,” His commander said.

“As much I would love to put you as a Steward, princey…we all know you are needed as a Ranger. You are a skilled warrior aren’t you not?”

Aemond could only stare at the commander, letting out a quiet hum. “You don’t talk much do ya?” Stepping closer to the one eyed prince. “It’s better that way,” Aemond replied coldly.

The northerner scoffed, spitting onto the ground. 

“Cocky little shit.”

Walking away from Aemond alongside with the other crows. Turning his back on them, Aemond stared down at the weirwood tree. It was laughing at him. At his demise, his fate. The old gods were not with him. He cursed them under his breath, stomping away from the scene as his cloak dragged across the snow. 

Training with the northerners wasn’t any different than he had with ser Criston back then in the keep. It’s even easier for his liking. Aemond being a skilled swordsman he is, didn’t hesitate to show off his skills as he competed with new recruits of the watch. Even the ones that were longer in the brother hood had to put up a good fight to keep up with his skills. Yet Aemond was persistent on winning every single time.

“Get up,” Aemond said coldly to a young boy aching in the ground after getting hit by Aemond. “We are not done yet. I said get up,” he repeated himself. Is this the kind of men that they’re sending to the wall? Meek and puny men who are supposed to defend the realm from savages and creatures? 

Pathetic. 

“Stand up straight, boy,” Aemond told his competitor, tapping his leg. “Keep your legs strong if you want to live,” he said before striking again, thankfully the boy paid attention and kept his form strong. It went on for awhile after Aemond defeated them again and again. 

“Enough!” His commander’s voice boomed. “You, Targaryen.” Pointing at the one eyed prince. Approaching Aemond, he questioned, “What d’you think you’re doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“That’s enough.”

“These men aren’t ready—,”

“—oh now you’re lecturing me? A fucking know it all?”

“Yes I know it all. You’re sending these men into a death sentence,” Aemond pointed his sword towards the new recruits. “Is that what this brotherhood is meant for? Sending men into their deaths because they chose not to die sooner in the hands of you northerners? This is not honour, this is a—.”

Before Aemond could even finish his sentence, his commander punched him in the face, hard. A punch he haven’t felt in years throughout his youth. Tumbling to the ground, Aemond felt his cheek was sore and aching. Wincing in pain, he felt his nose bleed.

Stupid northerner.

Licking the blood flowing through his nostril, he scoffed. “That’s what you northerners always do, hm? Finishing the matter with violence.” Prancing up, Aemond wanted to behead his commander right there on spot. But he was held back by the other watch members. Grunting, ordering them to let him go, their grip only tightened.

“If it weren’t for Lord Stark, I would’ve stabbed you here for tainting the watch’s name.” Tapping Aemond’s chin with his own sword. “You’re lucky you’re protected under the starks, boy. Or else your corpse would be lying in the forest as those savages feast on ya.” Tapping Aemond’s cheek with a mocking laugh before his men threw Aemond to the ground, leaving him alone. 

His clothes, once neat and tidy, were now tattered and stained, clinging to his battered frame. Aemond lets his legs give up as he was left alone in the field. Even if his face was in pain, he was relieved that he is finally alone in this dreadful place. Even if it was for awhile, he savoured the moment and laid back on the cold harsh ground of the north.

Looking up, he saw the sky being dark and grey. Snow has stopped falling from the sky, that’s also relief. He wondered what his mother is doing right now. Is she praying for him? For his brother? What about Helaena? Has she forgiven him after what he had done and asked her for? She was kind. Helaena didn’t deserve the war or any of them. Not even himself.

What of Alys? His newborn? What does he look like? Will she successfully give him an heir? But what is the use of an heir if he is not present to see its birth? If he has lost the war. If the blacks had claimed the throne and cast his family aside? Was the war actually worth the fight? He should’ve perished at that lake to end his misery. At Least he didn’t have to endure the aftermath of the war. But now he’s nothing but a crippled Targaryen, surrounded by a useless brotherhood that we would die to escape from. 

A crow flew above him, landing on one of the trees surrounding the base. 

He used to see dragons flying above him. 

Now he is only left with dreadful black crows.

Yet they are free. Unlike his fate. Trapped in a cage he wished to be free from. 

May the gods be with him. 

He wasn’t surprised when they put him on duty that very night to the Nightfort. Of course they put him in the Nightfort. They said that the fort was haunted since it’s twice as old as Castle Black. Aemond sighed, lighting up his torch looking around the barely standing fort. They would have abandon this fort in a few years. Aemond didn’t mind the dark or the haunting noise of the creaking floors of the fort. For Harrenhal was far more haunting than this old fort. 

Even Alys’ visions were far much terrifying. 

He saw a few men on the ground as he stood by the bridge of the old fort. Scared shitless when they felt a small blow from the wind. “Cowards,” he muttered under his breath. The cold wind swept his hair as he stomped through the old fort. Yet when he slowed down, he heard a double foot step. He kept walking.

Tap…tap..Tap..Tap..tap..Tap..tap.

A quite tap was heard from a distance trying to sync with his steps. 

Someone was following him.

For the love of the gods, Aemond whined in his head. He drew out his sword and faced his stalker, finding the boy he duelled earlier raising his arms with a shocked expression. “I-I’m sorry!” The boy stuttered in fear as Aemond’s sword touched his chin.

“Why do you lurk in the shadows, boy? Did they send you to assassinate me?” He accused the boy.

 “N-no, ser—,”

“—Prince. Prince Aemond.” 

The boy swallowed a lump in his throat.

“My pr-prince..I…I am not here to kill you.”

“Then why did you stalk me in the dark?”

“I…I did not want to disrupt your peace. I swear it!”

Aemond stared at the boy for a moment, trying to find guilt in his expression. Yet he found none, so he lowered his sword. “Speak,” he commanded. “I…I..I am..scared…of the nightfort.” The boy’s confession made Aemond scoff, “Those stories they tell you were only lies.” Walking ahead, not bothering to stop and have a proper conversation with the young recruit. “Oh but it’s true!” The boy jogged, catching up to the Targaryen prince. “My brother saw a ghost in the halls. It was the perished wildling who died in this fort!”

Rolling his eye, Aemond said, “Lies.” 

The boy curiously looked at Aemond as they walked side by side. “What happened to your other eye?” A question that Aemond’s sick of hearing and answering. “My nephew took my eye when we were children,” he coldly said. “Why a sapphire?” 

No one ever asked him that before.

Only his mother asked him why he chose a sapphire. He remembered her smiling when he requested a sapphire to replace his eye. He remembered how she told him it suited him. How it made him handsome.

He smiled thinly at the memory.

“Symeon star eyes,” Aemond proudly said.

“The blind knight? Ah yes that makes sense. I read about him once. He’s an amazing hero, isn’t he?” The young boy asked, intriguing Aemond. “He is..and he is a brave knight. Taught me that being blind does not mean you must limit yourself from greatness.” Touching his sapphire eye, he recalled how uncomfortable it was when they placed the stone into his socket when he turned 13. But now he is used to it. As time went by, it slowly moulded into his skin. It was his identity now.

“What is your name, boy?”

“Jack.”

“And how old are you now?”

“I just turned Ten-and-three now.”

He was just a boy.

Aemond stopped in his tracks, “You are merely a boy. Why are you here at the watch?” Aemond asked curiously. 

“I wanted to.”

Aemond scoffed.

“It’s true! I want to be a crow! My brother was one and I have become one!” 

“Where is your brother now?”

Jack went quiet, looking down to his feet. “He died. A wildling shot an arrow through his heart,” he answered. Aemond sighed, in normal circumstances he would not say anything and leave the matter behind. But Jack’s loss reminded him of his own. Aegon. “I lost my brother too,” Aemond said reassuringly. Jack looked up, wiping a snot away from his nose. “You did? What happened to him?”

“He was poisoned. By his own council, I heard,” Aemond vaguely said. “Oh, you were a prince, weren’t you?”

“I still am.”

“What is it like…riding a dragon?”

Trying to recall what it was like to mount on dragonback, feeling the wind blowing through him as Vhagar took him up to the skies, he answered,

“I was free.”

He missed Vhagar. His only companion. The only thing that made himself worthy. Without Vhagar, what is he? Without his claim as prince, what is he? Just a skilled swordsman who coincidentally has silver hair. What has he put himself into?

Crack. Thump.

Aemond turned his head towards the haunted forest. “What was that?” Jack asked. “D’you think it’s a squirrel? Or a bird?”

Thump. Thump. 

“That is no bird, boy,” Aemond warned, shielding Jack from their surroundings. 

Swish- crack!

An arrow shot beside his head. 

“Wildling,” Jack says in horror

Aemond pulled the arrow out from the wooden walls of the fort. Examining its sharp carved edge of the arrow. It was clearly handmade with lack of detail, yet it is efficient to kill. “Warn the others,” Aemond said under his breath. “What?” Aemond rushed and hurriedly push the boy out from his place. “Warn the others. We’re under attack.” Aemond’s words drove Jack into panic before he runs away from the bridge. Leaving Aemond alone with the wildling arrow.

Pulling his sword out once again, Aemond aimed the sword around him.

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

“I know you’re there. Show yourself!” Aemond commanded, “Do not hide yourself from me, you savage!” 

Thud. 

He felt the floor shake as he heard something- or..someone jumping inside the bridge he stood on. Before he could fully turn around, the wildling pounced onto him. He landed on the floor with a thud. Aemond hastily aimed the sword to the intruder but when he looked up, he saw a she-wildling curiously looking down at him.

Her messy wavy hair was braided disorderly as it hangs above his face. He felt how thick her fur clothes were as a few leftover snow stuck onto her fur slightly falling when she pounced on him. Aemond was ready to strike if the wildling made sudden movements or even dared to harm him. He glared at the she-wildling, gripping his sword. 

“Do as you please, wildling. And I shall stab your hea-.”

She curiously lifts a strand of his hair. Feeling the texture of his hair. 

What?

She looked at his hair with a smile, “It’s actually silver,” her sweet voice said with a chuckle. 

“So you speak?”

She looked down at him, “Of course I do,” she answered with her thick rough accent. “Good. Then keep your hands off me!” Shoving her away, Aemond quickly stood on his feet. Pointing his sword at her. 

“Where are the others?”

“What others?” She smirked.

“Do not think this is a joke, wildling. We know your attacks—,”

“—Attacks? No! No! Gosh.” 

What is this wildling trying to do? Play with him?

“You’re different.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re not from the north,” she repeated, stepping closer towards him in which Aemond does not want her to do, still keeping his sword pointed at her. “And you’re not here by choice,” she continued, stopping right in front of his sword. One step closer, Aemond could stab her through her chest with his sword. “Is it true?” She asked.

“What?”

“That you are those people who owned a dragon?”

“What does a wildling know about dragons?”

“Surprisingly we know some things,” she lightly said. “And my grandfather has seen two dragons flying above the wall. But they refused to go beyond the wall.”

King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. 

His ancestors.

“What do you want, wildling?”

“I have a name, y’know.”

She spoke of her name that sounded foreign to his ears.

“I do not care of your name, tell me why are you here before I drag you to the watch—,”

“—oh, now you’re loyal to the crows? The last time I saw you, you threw a punch at the Lord Commander.”

What? How did she know of it?

“Were you spying on us?” Aiming his sword closer to her throat. “Oh really? You’re asking me that? We’re wildlings, of course we spy on crows like you. Or are you really one?” Her question made him grunt in frustration. “Tell me why are you spying on me?”

“Because you’re different. You didn’t ask to be a crow!”

“You do not know that!”

“Oh but I do. I do,” she challenged him.

“And not to mention, your purple eye and sapphire eye caught our attentio-.” Aemond frustratingly tackled her down. “You’re wasting my time,” he hissed at her. Their faces are inches away from each other. She scoffed, “Am I? Or am I making your job far much more entertaining? You seem bored being stationed in this old fort,” she chuckles. 

This woman is insane.

“This is going nowhere. For the last time, tell me why are you here,” he warned her. “Before I cut your throat, you savage.”

“Do you want to be trapped among these crows, snow haired?” She asked. 

Did he want to be trapped amongst these crows?

The watch?

No. 

But he could not admit that.

Not to a fucking wildling.

“You know nothing, wildling.”

“Oh but I know some things. I know you wished to be freed from this prison.” 

He did.

He did want to be free.

“You are such a know it all, wildling.”

“Aye, I am a savage. But I am also a free woman. Do you want to be free like me?”

Her eyes bore into his healthy eye. “If you were to kill me, you could’ve done that minutes ago. You would’ve cut my throat right here, right now. But you didn’t. For you knew my offer is too interesting to igno-,”

“Do not test me, you savage.” 

She scoffed at him.

“Then do it. Cut my throat. Drag me to those men you call brothers,” she challenged him.

Aemond aimed his sword at her.

One swift motion, her throat would be slit and she will lie there lifeless in his arms. That's easy. 

But why couldn’t he move?

His sword just stayed in place. 

He was a ruthless warrior who burned everything to the ground. He slew the strong family line. He killed those bastards and beheaded their men. Killing a wildling is nothing to him.

But he didn’t.

Fuck.

For she could free him from the watch. 

“Come with me. And you can escape from this place. I can help you go back to your home behind the wall. If you agree to come with me.”

She can take him home?

To Kings Landing.

His mother.

The keep.

“And you can help us as well. You don’t have to stay and become a crow—,”

“Targaryen!”

He heard a watch man called him from afar with Jack pointing to Aemond’s direction with the wildling. “Ah so that’s your name. Targaryen,” she jokingly said with a light laugh. She shoved Aemond away making him stumble back onto the hard floorboards of the fort. “Catch her!” He heard a watchman said again as they ran towards them. Aemond picked himself up and was ready to leap and stab the wildling. 

To no avail, the wildling was swift and jumped on the edge of the bridge. 

“This is my cue to leave. My offer stands still, Targaryen. We shall meet again.”

Giving Aemond a wink before jumping down, nowhere to be seen. Disappearing into the cold night air.

a/n: woohooo Aemond finally gets to meet the reader! Hope he’s fond of us🫶🏻🐇 Anw thank you for reading this chapter until the end! I will upload the next chapter asap<3 Alsooo I currently don’t have any taglist so if you want me to tag you in upcoming chapters just LMK🌷

🍰current tags: @suntizme @8812-342 @ladytargg @barnes70stark @magpiewritingsforonce (bold means I can’t tag you and idk why😔🐦‍⬛)

[mr2swap]

Living with Bullying

-I HOPE THAT AFTER THIS YOU KNOW THAT NOTHING HAS CHANGED FAGGOT, IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU HAVE MY DAD'S BODY NOW, FOR ME YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MY BITCH!

This is wrong... I thought I could have my revenge. Alex Anderson has made my school life hell, every day I used to get hit and insulted by Alex and his friends, but now it seems that even at home I can't defend myself even after swapping bodies with his muscular dad, at least now I'm not a pathetic weakling teenager.

The first time I saw Mr. Anderson was when Alex got in trouble for putting my head in the toilet in the school bathroom, he and I were in the principal's office when a huge six-foot man came through the door. , he was extremely hot, he looked really young for Alex's father, he came dressed in his builder's outfit and he reeked of a strong musk that it was inevitable not to smell, so I guessed maybe he had gotten his girlfriend pregnant in high school.

Without saying a single word, Mr. Anderson put his hand on Alex's shoulder and he froze, it was the first time he had seen Alex behaving so submissive, while the director explained what happened, Alex's gaze went to the floor as his father's huge hand pressed harder and harder on his shoulder. Mr. Arderson frowned throughout…GOD WAS SO HOT WHEN HE GOT ANGRY!

Since then I started planning my revenge I wanted to give my Bully a little of his own medicine so I had no choice but to spend everything I saved from my bar mitzvah and hire a fortune teller who fulfilled my wish.

He gave me a strange bottle and instructed me to drink it before going to sleep, and to think about my "target" Mr. Anderson's hot and muscular body and from thinking about the smelly and hairy body so much I had to masturbate fantasizing about my desire from the older body of Mr. Anderson, a few minutes later I ejaculated my small load into my boxers and fell exhausted.

The next morning I woke up in a hot room, the unmistakable smell of Mr. Anderson's sweaty armpits now coming from all over my body, I looked down to see hairy abs resulting from several hours in the gym and hard work in the sun.

Despite now being 38 years old Mr. Anderson's body libido was that of a teenager, my blue underwear was about to burst from the huge cock I now had on my long hairy legs, I was so horny I didn't even reveal my cock before jerking off to Mr. Anderson's morning boner, my hands were huge, hairy, and calloused.

The semen shot out into my underwear, thoroughly wetting my balls and staining the underwear I had woken up with. Ejaculating on Mr. Anderson's body was equivalent to 3 on my old teen body, I wiped my dirty hands on my hairy chest, massaged my pecs, and occasionally pinched my nipples with Mr. Anderson's hard hands.

-Hey, dad, the bathroom is...- I didn't realize that the door was open and Alex entered quietly, and we looked into each other's eyes for a couple of seconds that seemed eternal, then without saying goodbye he left my room. I couldn't help but smile on my face, which was now covered with a thick beard. Everything was working perfectly, as soon as I pissed I was going to torment Alex like he always wanted.

Iused my long hairy legs to walk out of Alex's father's room and went straight to the bathroom, my still erect cock bobbing up and down as I walked through the thought of masturbating in front of the mirror and desecrating the hot body with my own hands. and hairy body of my Bully.

I was too overconfident that I didn't notice the moment Alex appeared behind me when I could finally look at my handsome face in the mirror, not letting myself react to his attack he pinned me down and then took my dirty and stinky underwear away. all the semen and stretch it all over my butt, it was very painful, I couldn't help but use Alex's father's mature and thick voice to moan femininely in pain.

-You really thought I didn't find out about all your voodoo shit last night "dad"- He knew it, I don't know how but he knew that I wasn't his father, my muscular body was prepared to subdue his son like many times but now... I was terrified of Alex my body trembled, tears of pain dirtied my face as usual, and my huge cock still with a painful erection escaped through a corner of my stretched and dirty underwear. All my revenge had gone to shit. Now I have no escape from Alex even at home.

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[pixeltwix]

Life After Divorce for Emma May

For awhile now I’ve struggled to figure out what job Emma May could’ve taken up after the divorce as for so many reasons this is SUCH a messy topic.

Firstly, do y’all ever think about how the only reason Fiddleford was even going to Gravity Falls in the first place was to secure more money and provide a better financial future for his family (something he’d always dreamt of doing) only to then lose his memories, leaving the family in shambles, and ultimately leaving them in a worse financial situation with Em as a single mom?? Cause I think about this ALL the time-

To me it only makes sense that Fiddleford would marry someone just as lovely and sweet as him, but also someone who is tough enough for both of them. Let’s all nod our heads and agree that Fiddleford is a pushover and a major people pleaser. Most of his kindness to Ford is him outwardly wanting validation from an old friend he admirers because otherwise he feels useless and unintelligent. Ie Fidds whole, ‘I’m the builder, if I’m not building something than I’m useless’. So when he becomes too exhausted to build and Ford grows frustrated with this he tries to make up for it with gifts etc :,). That paired with some chronic anxiety is a recipe for a man who needs someone who can understand that and is willing to help him- his wife. mutually patient and kind as he, is happy to be that for him.

Regardless as far as her career goes, smart as she is, I don’t see her as book smart? Rather people smart? Emma May knows how to talk someone up, knows how to make a deal, knows how to defuse a situation, and could probably sell someone their own shirt off their back. Perhaps that could stem from the cult background I explain here and here, but regardless she’s witty in conversation and great at pretending she’s an expert on something she’s never heard of.

Naturally I thought sales would be a good place to put her, maybe rise the ladder that way? One of those late night tv marketers? But it didn’t feel like enough? The 80’s were a prime time for women to put themselves into the workplace, incredibly toxic as the environment was for them it didn’t stop women from being excited to be there. Ironically it’s the perfect time to divorce? Even if she didn’t want to, after the giant homicidal pterodactyl robot it sort of felt like a, ‘even if I still love my husband, if I value me and my sons life, I have to do this’ sort of thing

After taking that into consideration I thought ‘honestly bigger is better’ so I brainstormed harder to figure it out. And after a few lengthy rabbit holes I believe I figured it out. While Fiddleford acts as sort of the Bill Gates of the Gravity Falls universe I thought ‘who’s someone else deeply recognizable in Americas pop culture, but tv related?’ And then it hit me, ‘oh my god what if Emma May acts as the Oprah of the Gravity Falls universe? The Emma Dixon Show?’ (In the sense of a beloved tv personality that unexpectedly rose to great fame in the mid 1980s) The-match up felt perfect enough and a mid 80s timeframe feels realistic too as it gives her those three years to struggle and figure something out to provide for her son.

But also hi hello, I needed Emma May to peruse some sense of tv fame for the sake of her last name becoming a synonymous one. Considering I have no idea where miss Emmaline Butternubbins wound up after the fall of Billville (or hell if she’s even alive some twenty odd years later) but I love the idea of Emmaline recognizing the name ‘Dixon’, seeing the similarities on tv between Emma May and what she remembers of young Madeline, and wanting to reach out. Mainly out of fear that Ciphertology is rising again and she wants to talk some sense into her, sure, but once they meet or get in contact and Em couldn’t be further from that?? She’s relieved. Plus the two can bond over the absolute madness of the cult (also Emma May gaining a mother figure that isn’t Fiddleford mom? I love Bobbie Jean, but Em needs even more maternal support)

Also also?? I always envisioned Emma May as the type of gal to be super into photography. She just loves taking pictures of memories, people she cares about, and stuff she likes.

So this especially grew once she had Tate, the kid naturally being used to getting his photo taken for scrapbooks, and he loved being photogenic

But once his mom becomes a tv personality he begins to detest the public eye and the cameras of others

Its a hatred he keeps to adulthood especially, having zero tolerance for anyones cameras (other than his moms polaroid camera) pointed towards him