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taro-pdf · 4 months ago

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Humans are Deathworlders, but they can be Friends, too.

Context: the main alien is Feja, xe/xer, an adult 4th gender tuscia (bipedal beings that communicate mainly through frequencies higher than humans do. Theyhave 5 sexes and 5 main societal gender roles)

Feja didn’t get along well with xer crewmates. It was always hard to communicate cross-species, and even harder when most of them were humans and couldn’t hear you. That’s why, when they stopped to pick up a group of even more humans in the Acrux solar system, Feja wasn’t exactly excited.

The humans’ voices were low, loud, rumbles in as they boarded, speaking of things Feja didn’t know about and couldn’t share. But xe had to do xer job, which involved initiating a small group of new humans who would share the same sort of tasks as xer. Not that xe wanted to share tasks with beings who drank poison for fun and kept predators as pets, but xer job was xer job.

“Hello, welcome to the Yenna,” xe paused, allowing a few seconds for the translator to work. It was always so awkward to wait. And sometimes older translators wouldn’t pick up xer voice correctly at all. “My name is Feja, xe/xer, tuscia, and I will be orienting you to your roles and responsibilities. You should have already received a brief. If you have any questions about that, please let me know.”

One of the humans’ mouths let out a few rumbles, followed by Feja’s translator repeating their words to xer, “Are their Uni-10 translators provided? I missed some of what you said.”

Feja smiled and the human’s eyebrows scrunched. From previous experience, xe knew that it was confused, probably not used to tuscia body language. Feja let out a small hiss, but replied, “We don’t provide translators, but if communication is an issue, I can transfer you to a different group.”

A pause, a low rumble, and then, “I think that’d be best. Thanks for being flexible!”

The other humans in Feja’s group had better translators, and xe was able to finish xer initiation protocol with few issues. Slightly exhausted, xe started to walk back to xer room. Why did xe ever sign up for this? Why didn’t xe apply to somewhere where beings could actually converse with xer without a translator? And why, oh why did xe have to work with so many deathworlders?

Turning into a narrow corridor, Feja saw a human, looking at a number on their watch, then the signs next to each door, apparently trying to find a match. Their long white hair was plaited and reached their waist, and they were wearing a blue tunic that contrasted with their tan skin. It was too narrow to slip past, so Feja clacked xer mouth—a sound that xe knew humans could hear—but the human didn’t turn. Instead, they tried to open another door that also didn’t open, evidently not theirs . Feja clacked louder, to no response. As the human tried the next door, xe got rudely close and clacked once more. The human jumped, then turned and waved. Lucky not angrily— humans could take Feja down in a second. They looked down to their watch and started typing something.

Hey! I’m Kell, they/them, human, and new on board the Yenna, but not a traveler. The text was transmitted directly to Feja’s watch, and xe was surprised to see it was in universal language, not a human one that would have needed further translation. I’ve been hired as a tech assistant, so I should get my own room, but my initiation guide didn’t tell me where it was, and I’m having trouble with these numbers. Does the ship use a different language?

Not an uncommon problem for those first on board. Why didn’t their initiator tell them that?

“Most written text on the signs is in the captain’s birth tongue,” Feja explained. Kell tapped their glasses and captions scrolled across their screen as they looked at xer. “It’s Suav, and probably not in your translator’s database. You can add it, or you could use Anglu, which is close enough that it picks up most things.”

Kell nodded and switched their watch to Anglu, then translated a plaque on the wall. Seeing the results, they hit their forehead with their fist, thumb out. Feja startled, neck ruff raised.

“Are you alright?” Xe asked, cocking xer head. Even with how durable humans were, most of them didn’t hit themselves. Faja’s words scrolled across Kell’s glasses, then they laughed.

I’m fine. That was sign language; I was calling myself stupid because I’m about 100 doors and a floor away. They looked up and chuckled.

“Sign language? Like the Ruq’?”

Yeah, though the Ruq’ never evolved ears. Mine just don’t work, I’m what humans call Deaf. I grew up with signs.

“So you sign to your fellow humans?”

Ha! Kell raised a lip—a sign of a negative emotion, though Faja wasn’t sure which one. I wish. I’ve only met a few who know any, and then usually not the same one I use. I text to talk to most beings. That’s why I’m in tech and not navigation.

“But you use the Universal Interplanetary Language, not Human, and that’s quite a feat of learning. Surely you had a choice in your occupation, especially considering how you’re a human…” Feja shifted on xer feet. The human-other ratio on board Yenna was unusually high, but that was because they specialized in human transport. Humans easily got jobs as medics, security, or anything else, especially as almost every intergalaxy ship had at least one. But most beings didn’t want to so much as be near the same fleet with so many of such a volatile species. Humans were known for their adaptability, cunning, and ferocity after all.

When you can’t communicate with most people, you have to do what makes it easiest, and for me that was making sure to limit translation times as much as possible.

Feja winced at xer own thoughts of Kell’s possible violent nature. Xe looked down at xer messages, a wall of one-way texts, and winced again. Xe typed back, that’s my reason for learning UPL, too. Receiving the text, Kell’s eyes widened.

You stopped speaking? My translator can write your words out for me.

Feja smiled. It didn’t seem fair. We can keep a record of what I say, too.

Thanks. Kell blinked and shook their head. That’s not something I even thought of.

I know what it’s like when it’s more work to communicate. The humans tend to avoid me. Faja recalled the human who requested a new group earlier that day.

Me too. Kell had a look on their face that Feja felt often.

I’ll walk you to your room. I can read Suav numbers, at least. What’s yours?

Kell brightened and checked their brief. It should be 470.

Alright, that’d be down this hallway. It’s a relief, Faja thought, that they aren’t pushing me away.

A few steps later, Faja’s watch buzzed. Xe looked down.

Hey Faja, how many languages do you know? Kell looked at them and Faja stared. Human’s colors were usually so dull, but xer eyes were drawn to the vibrant green of Kell’s, a color rarely seen in space. Shaking xer head to focus, xe counted the languages xe knew.

Three fluently, five partially. They’re fun to learn, though it doesn’t mean much when no one on board can hear me.

Kell thought for a second, started typing, paused, then sent their message. They peered at xer from behind their hair.

Language isn’t always about hearing. Have you thought about learning sign language?

It was Faja’s turn to pause. Kell fidgeted with a button on their watch. This human was making an effort to bond… with xer. Even though xe was a different species, and even though xe couldn’t offer any career advancement or connections. Xe closed xer eyes and inhaled. Maybe, just maybe, xe would make their first friend on board. It really wasn’t a question, then, was it? This deathworlder wasn’t so bad.

Xe typed xer reply:

I’d love too.

---

Based on a post by @bunnyycat, this is the edited version post-a-good-nights-sleep. Image description in alt.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are terrifying #humans are weird #humans are space australians #nonbinary #nonbinary alien #deaf #disabled alien #disabled human #image description in alt #my writing #my art #faja #kell #HaSO #ref sheet

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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Various Predators x Predator! Reader (IV)

@avaleigh16 asked (a very long time ago, sorry for the wait!!) for a fourth part to the Predator saga, where Reader is brought to Yautja Prime. Therefore I bring a potential sequel that focuses on Predator culture, depending on who you’ve chosen as your partner!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Horror Masterlist]

Feral Predator

As promised, your new home didn’t stray much from your expectations. Feral Predator is from a different hemisphere, of a drier climate. The imposing, sprawling megalopolis of Yautja Prime is but a distant outline, fading before the marvels of raw, unforgiving nature this place has to offer. Tribal architecture and interminable tunnels are the prominent features of these ancient cities. One has no need for advanced technology. In a way, it does remind you of Earth, of your modest countryside roots. Communities are made of small family units, so days are spent hunting or training in the company of your partner. Feral Predator is a patient and caring father, guiding his offspring and showing them the ropes of survival. There will be frequent visits to Earth as he, too, favors its wilderness, especially when it comes to honing one’s skills. While he treats you as an equal, he does hold you in significantly high regards as the mother of his children.

Elite Predator

With great status comes great responsibility. Elite Predator has been eyeing the Elder status for some time now, in order to provide you with one further reason to be grateful for choosing him. That implies, naturally, that he is often on special missions to teach or rescue Young Bloods, or clear out Alien infestations. Your offspring will go through Spartan training as soon as they can crawl their way around: it would be shameful if his own younglings end up weak or devoid of skill. Although he does not worry about such outcome. He hasn’t picked you out of random chance. Only someone of his level could’ve made it as his mate, and he was certain of it from the moment he saw you. Hopefully you, too, can tell that this outcome was fated to happen. You most certainly won’t regret your life with him, he will make sure of that.

Fugitive Bad Blood

If you were hoping for an idyllic, peaceful life in a humble hut with ocean view, I have some bad news for you. Even settling on Yautja Prime is an optimistic stretch when your partner is a criminal on the run. You’ve unwillingly followed in the footsteps of your parents, watching your child grow from within the confinements of a ship, sailing through space with no ultimate goal. Not all is grim, however. Despite his ruthless nature, the Fugitive has kept his word when it comes to being a fitting partner for you. Your wish is his command and he will not allow anything endanger his family. To your great shock, he’s even willing to take risky detours on Earth whenever you feel particularly nostalgic. He will stare at you incredulously; why the hell would he have gone through all the efforts to court you if he didn’t want you as a partner? Have you forgotten who you’re dealing with already? Whatever your heart desires, he will make it possible.

Berserker

The Super Predator cannot wait for his younglings to be old enough to begin their hunt. He lives to kill and one can easily tell from his impressive collection of trophies he has gathered from all across the Universe. Truth be told, you’re somewhat afraid to see the outcome of your copulation. Berserker Yautja are much larger and much more aggressive than your species. You’d assumed his first choice for a mate should’ve been from his own kind, but for reasons unknown he’s preyed on you instead. The Berserker seems to have a fervent attachment towards you and will even growl at his own sucklings if they show any sign of disrespect. There’s not much space for freedom and sometimes you feel like you’re trapped under the suffocating affections of a savage animal ready to defend its territory. From his point of view, you should enjoy the privilege of belonging to the superior Predator. There’s no one out there that could go against him.

#predator #predator headcanons #predator x reader #predator reader #yautja #yautja x reader #prey

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noxturnalnymph · 8 months ago

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Devotion 🖤 II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 5)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

⚠️PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE SERIES WARNINGS, ESPECIALLY: possessiveness, manipulation, Joel gets mean, Joel gets verbally and physically abusive.⚠️

LAYOUT OF JOEL'S HOUSE

II. Predator or Prey?

CH 5 (6.1k) Joel doesn’t see a single hair on your head for days, Tess is guarding you like a mother bear, refusing to let him even peer in your doorway. Still sick, she keeps muttering to him, leave her alone she says repeatedly. Who the fuck does she think she is to tell him what to do? This is his fucking house. And yet she keeps sending him out of it, keeping him the busiest he’s ever been in the community. He leaves at sunrise and comes back long after dark.

Then, finally, he walks into his house on Christmas Eve after having been out all day and you’re wrapped in a blanket, sleeping in the chair in front of the fireplace. He stands over you, watching you sleep until a noise from the kitchen wakes you, your startled eyes darting around and meeting his intense stare. Your eyes are wild once again looking up at him, a heady combination of fear and anger. He drinks it in.

You quickly dart your eyes back to your lap and that’s where they stay for the rest of the evening. Even when you’re sitting at the dinner table next to each other, and when he’s standing in front of you at the valley gathering to sing Christmas Carols in the large church around the town square. You won’t look up.

The next morning the household all gathers together to exchange Christmas gifts. Joel watches you open the gift he wrapped for you, after he told Tess that you would be his giftee and not the random name she had drawn for him. You pull the twine and old newspaper away from a tattered paperback copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, turning it over in your hands to inspect the ripped cover.

He waits with bated breath as you look it over and then, without even a glance in his direction, you set it down at your side. That used to be his favorite book, the one he would read to Sarah when she was very young and bored of her little children’s board books. He remembers how much she loved him doing low, rumbled voices for the Gorgons and would giggle when he described all the different creatures Arthur encountered in his travels through the galaxy.

But you don’t react, you don’t say anything, you don’t look at him. He feels his guts tightening, pulling inwards, igniting a low, burning flame of anger. He clenches his teeth and tries not to audibly growl as the day proceeds on and you ignore him as if he were invisible. As if you couldn’t feel him staring at you. As if he weren’t a hulking, burning man sitting within inches of you all day and night.

–

Two days later, the Thursday meeting is wrapping up and you’re moving as quickly as possible, to be able to walk with the rest of the group back to the house. The last farmer breaks off from you and Joel, and you can see the front porch in the near distance, quickening your steps to make it inside the house as rapidly as possible. You hear him close behind you, matching your pace and just before you reach the door handle he grabs your wrist.

He pulls you backwards into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and splaying his hand over your stomach, pressing his nose into the back of your head and inhaling your scent. He’s gripping you so hard you can barely struggle against him. When you gonna get over this, baby?, he growls in your ear. Baby. You’re not his baby. You tell him so as you try and wrestle your face away from his, the scraping of his stubble along your neck, the moist heat of his breath.

“Yes you are, you’re mine.”

He hates the way you thrash in his arms, the way you avoid his gaze day in and day out. He hates that you haven’t even thanked him for the Christmas gift, that you left it sitting still on the floor in the family room. He hates that you’re making such a big deal out of a stupid little blow job. What was he supposed to do? You were too sick to take care of him, so he found relief where he needed to. It’s nothing new, this is how it's always been. He deserves to be taken care of.

He lets go of you and you bolt upstairs into your room. He hears the lock click behind you.

He was so close. So fucking close. He almost had you, how did you slip through his fingers? He knows how. He made a mistake. His mistake was letting you think that you had some kind of exclusivity to him, some kind of claim on him. How could you think that after all this time? You’ve been here long enough, you should know better. You should know how this place works by now. What makes you think you get to tell him what he can and can’t do, that you get to decide what goes on in his house? This was your fault. You were wild once, you were free. But you gave in like all the rest of them, you gave up, you let him tame you. Why did you do that? Why were you so easy for him to break?

–

You’re being so fucking sensitive, acting like a kicked puppy. It’s New Year’s Eve and he’s had to stare at his Christmas gift on the floor for a week now. He can’t even walk through that room without getting pissed off. The way you’re acting like a spoiled fucking brat, flinching when he goes to touch you and sitting in silence at every meal. Yesterday at the interfaith service, he filed in with the rest of the household and watched you try and sit in the third row instead of your usual place with the other women in the second row, directly behind him. How fucking childish you are. He gets up out of his seat when he notices and grabs you by the hair, ignoring your pathetic little cries, Tess’ pleading with him to stop, and the startled gasps of those around him. He drags you to the second pew and throws you down next to Tess, where you belong. All of this nonsense because you won’t forgive him. No – not forgive – he doesn’t need fucking forgiveness. You’re just playing the victim, like you always do. God, he should have seen the writing on the wall. He should have known that you were never gonna be satisfied with what he gave you, even when he gave you so much. You only ever wanted more, all you did was take. There you are again, creeping around the edges of the room, trying to hide yourself from him. As if he can’t fucking see you, as if he can’t fucking feel your presence in the room. He’d tried to follow you when you darted off immediately after arriving tonight but Tess redirected him to the old theater that was used as a dance hall. He had people to talk to, she’d said, as if he gave a shit about what any of them had to talk about. He has his own fucking problems right now, he shouldn’t have to listen to Peter blabbering about whatever stupid issues he was having with his furnace. Or was it his roof? Who fucking knows, Joel isn’t even listening to him. He sees you dart into a shadow and he excuses himself to Peter as he’s already walking away. You need to grow the fuck up and stop playing these stupid, childish games.

Is Joel doin’ okay?

People keep asking Tess. They’re too reverent of him to be specific in their questioning, they won’t say that he seems off or cranky or downright distracted. But they can see it as well as she can. He’s grasping at you as you dodge him in the hallways at home and now he’s started doing it in public. She watches him grab your arm and push you against the wall at the New Year’s Eve party and she crosses the room as swiftly as she can without drawing unwanted attention.

She hears him snarling I’m the only one who fuckin’ knows you as she pulls him off you, leaving you to scuttle away and find another dark corner to hide in. Joel pushes against Tess’ grip on him, knocking her backwards so she almost stumbles over a row of chairs. Before she can fully lose her balance he’s grabbing her arm, hard, pulling her back upright and then snapping at her.

“Why are you so fuckin’ clumsy?”

Several people nearby whisper to each other but Tess smiles and attempts to laugh off the incident as a joke. She sees he’s starting to lose it, that the cracks are starting to show. His foul mood is permeating the very air around him, threatening to rot everything they’ve worked so hard to build. She feels like she has to do something, she just doesn’t know what.

–

The following Thursday you just barely beat him up the steps inside the house and by the time he’s rattling the door handle of your room you’ve locked yourself securely inside. He’s scaring you. You were hurt by him. So hurt. And you were mad. So fucking mad. But now? Now you’re mostly just scared. You don’t think he would touch you without your permission but he’s been getting physical with you, powerful and rough, growling nasty shit in your ear and subtly suggesting your permission is inevitable.

Two days later you return to the house with Sasha after your baths and scamper up to your room only to find the door gone, removed from its hinges completely. No more locked doors in this house without my permission, Joel announces as he stands – smiling – at the bottom of the stairs, inescapable. You try to brush past him on the way down but he pulls you close, shoving his face into your neck and biting firmly at your jaw. Your hands fumble on his shirt, clawing to push him away, telling him to get away from you.

With a huff he pushes you backwards, your back colliding with the stairway wall and rattling the framed artwork hanging there. He loosely wraps a hand around the column of your throat and holds you there.

“Get away,” he mumbles. “S’my fuckin’ house and you want me to get away?”

He stands there a moment longer and squeezes your throat with just enough force to demonstrate that he could do more if he wanted, but instead he turns to walk away. Just then the front door opens and you see Tess returning with an armful of scavenged items. Seeing an opportunity to escape out the door you tense your body to run, but you hesitate. You make the mistake of looking over at Joel before you go and he’s looking right at you. You bolt forward but before you even clear the threshold of the door his fist is in your collar, yanking you backwards onto the floor.

“You can’t fuckin run from me, girl,” he points his finger in your face where you lie. “You can’t fuckin’ escape.” He grabs the front of your shirt to lift half your body off the floor, closing the distance between his face and yours. “I’m already in there…” he taps his finger in the middle of your forehead. “You’ll never be rid of me.”

The sting of his words hurts worse than the callous way he lets your body drop back to the floor. You hate to admit he’s right. He’s already in your head, you think about him constantly even still, even after what he did. You feel him deep inside of you, digging his claws in, settling in for permanent residency. You know you’ll never be the same, that you’ll never be without him again. You’re possessed by him.

That night after dinner Joel makes an announcement. No one is allowed to leave the house without his permission and no one goes anywhere alone. Tess audibly scoffs at his announcement before she’s cowed by his sharp glare in her direction. You remain silent beside him. He saw the way you looked at that open door, he knew you were going to flee. He won’t lose you. He can’t.

You belong to him.

–

On Monday, Tess assigns you to hunt and gather with Sasha, which should keep you out of the house all day. You’re not sure how much of the crazy look in his eyes Tess actually sees, but he’s becoming more cruel and unpredictable. You know he’s just acting out because you’re not giving him what he wants, which he’s clearly used to getting. You don’t think he’d really hurt you, you don’t think the other women would allow him to hurt you, but you’re becoming more doubtful with each outburst that he has.

You’re so happy to be out of the house and away from his constant scowl and ever-watchful eye and Sasha doesn’t put up a fight when you offer to separate from her. You point out that you can cover more ground apart but that’s not the real reason you want to split up.

You like Sasha, she has a no-bullshit attitude and talks to you like she’s known you forever, making her really easy to be around. You’re able to easily ignore the fact that she’s most definitely slept with Joel because she’s smart, resourceful, and strong – things you don’t consider yourself – and she makes you feel safe when you’re with her. Sometimes you think that maybe you spent too much time with your head in the clouds fantasizing about Joel when you should have been learning from Sasha instead. You’ve learned more survival techniques in the last month than you have in the last decade, and that’s all because of her. She’s been a great teacher and she doesn’t make you feel stupid or useless – although you make yourself feel that way sometimes. Part of you wants to tag along with her but you think she might be easier to convince to let you come with her again if you stay out of her way today.

It’s cold but not snowing and you’ve bundled up with the winter gear Tess gave you from their last raid. You explore the edges of town, places you’ve never been before. You pass by some abandoned buildings but know they’ve all been picked over. You’ve rarely been out this far from the house before, and never alone. Joel and Tess would let you go fishing and set traps with Sasha but always preferred that you keep closer to home, Joel especially seemed to want you to stay in the yard if you weren’t with him.

It’s kind of exciting to explore the borders of the small mountain town on your own, fulfilling a sense of adventure while being almost perfectly safe, as all the buildings have already been cleared and are routinely patrolled. But you feel a bit of freedom out here, freedom that Joel has been taking from you bit by bit. You feel lighter, unencumbered by the weight of Joel’s expectations and his hands constantly pawing at you. At the house you feel like a bird in a cage, and walking through the snow-capped buildings today reminds you of what independence feels like.

There’s a loosely constructed barricade along the valley-facing edge of town made from broken down cars wedged together, building materials from deconstructed buildings, and logs from felled trees. Along the mountain-slope side of the town, there’s less of a structure – the rocky woods being protective enough on its own. There’s still some repurposed fencing that runs along sections of the hill, with paths walked by the patrols snaking in and out. It’s along one of these sections of fence that you find a large overgrown thicket of sumac bushes.

Conical clusters of deep, red berries still hang heavy on the branches, bowing them down to the snow-dappled earth. You remember your dad giving you lessons on the Sumac bushes that grew on the bike path near your house growing up. The fuzzy red berries are edible, but sumac with smooth, white berries are poisonous. You know these berries are okay to eat but you’re not sure how good they’ll taste, since they most likely ripened months ago.

You break off some of the better-looking bunches, putting them into the satchel slung over your shoulder. Your stomach rumbles, reminding you how you barely ate breakfast this morning. Out of the corner of your eye you watched Joel scowling at you until you lost your appetite and asked to be dismissed from the table. The berries aren’t as plump and juicy as they once were but they are tart and filling – once you’ve eaten enough of them.

You head into the center of the thick brush, shielded from the biting wind amongst the dense leaves. You find a comfortable spot to rest and pick at the bush, mindlessly eating the small, scarlet berries. You start to feel alone, to feel lonely. You think about your search for Bianca on New Year’s Eve. You’d looked in every building around the main square, but just like Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve, you didn’t see her. The dance hall was your last place to look for her and all you’d found was Joel - the one person you were working your hardest to avoid.

You were reeling from what happened, from witnessing what still makes you sick. Even now you feel a knot in your stomach, biting back tears whenever you’re left with your thoughts too long. What’s worse is that the pain and suppressed jealousy is renewed every time you see Kerri. You weren’t sure what kind of comfort Biance would even offer you but maybe if you asked her about Joel, you could see the truth in her eyes. Did she know? Had she fucked him? What were you supposed to do?

How can you move on from what feels like nothing short of a betrayal?

Maybe you’re being over-dramatic, maybe you should get over it. That’s what Joel keeps telling you - just move past this – muttering it into the wood from the other side of your closed bedroom door. But it twists like a knife stuck into your insides and squeezes your heart tight like it’s going to stop beating. You’ve given him nothing but trust, and he’s lied to you — just like the rest of them. He’s just like the rest of them. The tears that run down your cheeks chill you, so you bury your face in your knees, waiting out the time you wanted alone. Is this what you wanted?

When you meet back up with Sasha to head home you proudly show her your harvest. She looks them over and tells you that they’re a bit dried out but would most likely still be tasty and has several ideas of what to use them for. She says you did a good job but you wonder if she’s just being nice, seeing as how she has two rabbits slung over her shoulder and a satchel full of rattling black walnuts as well as heaping boughs of conifer needles she says are for medicinal uses. She asks how many of them you ate and you find yourselves laughing together when she points out how stained red your fingertips and tongue are.

Sitting around the dinner table that night however, there’s no laughter. Everyone eats in near silence, only interrupted by Tess’ low voice quietly asking Sasha if the afternoon was prosperous. You’re pushing food around your plate, waiting for Joel to dismiss you from the table when he grabs your left hand roughly. Your fork clatters to the plate, piercing the quiet of the meal.

“What’s all this? Blood?” he nods towards your red-stained fingers, looking at Sasha down the table, expecting an answer from her instead.

“N– no! T– the red is from berries sh– we picked today,” she stumbles.

“Berries?” he scoffs. He makes a show of looking around the table, sweeping his free hand over the surface. “Where are they?” He finally looks at you but you don’t lift your head to meet his eyes. “You didn’t bring any to share?” He squeezes your fingers together painfully. “Ate them all yourself?” he rumbles.

“They’re downstairs,” Sasha interrupts, earning a sharp look in her direction. He doesn’t say anything but the why is obvious on his face. She continues, “They’re kinda dried out so I thought they’d be better fully dried and then we can use them–”

He raises his free hand up to silence her, still squeezing your fingers tight in his other hand’s grip.

“You don’t like the food we feed you here?” he gestures to your half-full plate of cold food. Your eyes remain cast down. “Hmm?” he squeezes tighter until you wince.

“Joel,” Tess starts.

“Shut up,” he barks, not looking at her.

“Maybe you’re full from all the dried up fuckin’ berries you ate today.”

He throws your hand down on the table and stands up next to you. He grabs your plate and lifts it over your head before throwing it forcefully against the wall behind you. The plate shatters, the food splattering against the wall and sliding down to the floor. Joel’s face is back at your ear instantly. His hot breath wafts across your face as he snarls at you.

“If that fat little belly is so full of berries you can’t even eat your dinner, why don’t you head up to bed?”

You hesitate, afraid to move.

“Now!” he screams, and slams his fist down on the table, causing plates and silverware to rattle loudly, making everyone at the table to jump.

You get up and run up the stairs to your bedroom. You lie facing away from the open doorway, this position serving as your only form of privacy. Hours later when everyone else heads to bed you hear his lingering footsteps in the hallway and hear him announce that no one is allowed to eat food outside of the house without his permission. He’s talking to everyone but you can tell he’s facing you when he says it. He lingers there for a while before you hear him retreat to his room, slamming the door loudly behind him.

–

You wake up early in a panicked sweat and think you’ll beat him to breakfast but find him already at the table silently watching, waiting. You have to get away from him today, you’re jumping at every little thing, the scrape of his knife across the plate and the movements of his feet under the table. You spend breakfast being watched again, picking at the eggs on your plate. He stares you down for a while and then huffs loudly, muttering under his breath.

“You better eat your fuckin’ breakfast or I’ll fuckin’ feed it to you myself.”

You beg Tess to let you go out foraging again, thinking Sasha will be okay with splitting up again. Tess allows it and Sasha reluctantly concedes that you can split up, strongly advising you to find somewhere quiet to lie low. She passes you some jerky, shelled walnuts, and drinking water from her pack before quickly plaiting her long, light hair. She tells you she’s going to head towards the old ski resort, but says that you have to stay close to town and out of sight. Her blue eyes are piercing as she makes you promise to meet up at the entrance of the old cemetery just before sunset so you can head back to the house together.

This plan goes off without a hitch and Sasha returns with enough foraged and scavenged items that it’s completely believable that you were both working to collect them, even though you spent the entire day wandering around the old lumber mill. There’s nothing to do there but it’s been cleared of infected so you know it’s safe. It’s also surrounded by woods and separated by a creek from the old inns and apartment buildings filled with Valley residents, so you know no one will see you there.

You repeat the pattern for the next several days and on the third morning you swipe a blanket from the couch and a book from Joel’s office after he leaves. You’ve spent the days stacking scraps of wood into makeshift furniture as if the mill was your own little rough-loft apartment, and are going to spend today reading about Dr. Alan Grant and Dr. Ellie Sattler’s terrible visit to Jurassic Park. You’ve gotten comfortable here, letting yourself relax in a way that you can’t at home.

Joel is watching you morning, noon, and night, and you don’t even have a bedroom door to stop his prying eyes. You should feel exposed here in this wide-open room, left alone all day, but you feel the opposite. At home you hear his grumbling voice, even when you can’t make out the words, you still hear it like a constant buzz in the background. But at the mill in the woods you only hear the soft sounds of the nearby creek and the gentle pat pat pat of the dripping snow being melted off the roof by the mid-day sun. You feel protected here in your clandestine daytime accommodation, you feel unshackled. The idea that you could transform a run-down abandoned thing into a comfortable and beautiful space fills you with a sense of beauty. You snuggle into your blanket and dive into the book. Eventually you close your eyes, letting your mind replay the scenes from the movie that you so distinctly remember from your childhood – the vibrations of the T-Rex’s steps, spattering rain on large, tropical leaves, the screeching of the raptors.

You wake up to complete darkness and a freezing rain misting against the half-broken windows. Shit. You’ve completely lost all track of time and have fallen asleep on your wooden cot, bundled snugly in a blanket with your book laid over your face. You’ve missed your late afternoon bath, you’ve missed your meet up with Sasha, you’ve maybe even missed your weekly meeting with Joel. You sit up in a panic as you recognize Sasha’s voice calling out for you. Shit! Then you hear a second voice, higher-pitched, calling your name out, followed by a deep rumble, almost barking your name. Fuck. You’re so fucked, the whole house is looking for you. He’s looking for you.

It’s Thursday and you should’ve been home hours ago, the sun having long since set. You should both be at your meeting right now but Joel’s heart nearly seized up when Sasha came home, late herself, without you in tow. She explained you’d gotten separated on the way back from the abandoned resort and she hadn’t been able to locate you. He sent Tess to the meeting in his place and threw on two pairs of socks and his warmest coat, envisioning having to hike a while to find where you might be hiding from him.

Sasha tells him that she last saw you by the old cemetery, so that’s where they start, Rosie throwing on a raincoat and volunteering to join in the search. The three of them quickly cover the cemetery and then work their way across some old cornfields, moving towards the community center. About forty minutes into the search he's beginning to think about doubling back when his flashlight hits a moving figure trotting across the softball fields. There you are.

“Sorry,” you shout, your voice breaking, waving your arms over your head and making your way towards them in the dark.

He waits until you get closer to unleash his rage. Once you’re within his reach he grabs the scarf tail hanging out the front of your jacket and yanks you against him. You sputter with the force and reach to your neck to loosen your scarf but he blocks your hands, grabbing the front of your jacket with both fists and lifting your feet off the ground.

His face is so close to yours you can feel the moist heat wafting over your face, and spit from his angry muttering hitting your lips. Where the fuck have you been? Weren’t you fuckin’ listenin’ to me when I said you couldn’t go out alone? What are you thinkin’? You begin to cry, a strangled wail slipping out of your mouth. You’re not fuckin’ thinkin’, are you baby? There’s not a thought in that stupid little fuckin’ head. Your body is heaving with sobs now, tears streaming down your face. He lowers you back to the ground but holds you still.

The walk back to the house is silent except for your weeping, Joel clutching you tight to him as the other women trail behind. When you get inside you’re sniffling and shivering and Joel takes you upstairs to the bathroom. Kerri, who has been boiling water for a hot bath pending your arrival, gets the other women to help her bring several buckets of hot water to fill the tub, while Joel runs cold water from the tap to make it a more comfortable temperature.

Everyone leaves you and Joel alone in the bathroom and he robotically begins to peel your cold, damp clothes off your trembling body and pile them on the floor. You’re going to be completely naked in front of him. The only other time that happened, the situation was very different. You sniffle, looking towards him, trying to read his expression but his face is stone, impassive and stiff. You stifle a sob.

You let him strip you down to your underwear before you let out a whimper, too scared to say anything or bat his hands away. Shush, he mutters, turning you away from him by the shoulders. You face the steaming water, tears still silently dripping down your face. You’re almost naked now and cold, so cold, his hands feel burning against your skin. He undoes your bra at your back and lets you pull it down your arms as he unceremoniously tugs your underwear down your legs. This is it. You’re exposed.

You jolt as he grabs your upper arm roughly and guides you to step into the tub, letting go as you sink down into the hot water. You hiss as it feels scalding against your cold, clammy skin and when you sit and turn back to face him you find the room empty. He’s gone, left the door wide open, left you by yourself. You sit in the tub in the big, cold, empty room and begin to cry again, quieter this time. You think you really fucked up. Joel’s furious with you and Sasha and Tess are probably mad too.

You silently sob, shaking with fear at what he might do to you, how he might retaliate. A knot in your stomach forms at the idea that he’d put his hands on you, that he would touch your body for pleasure when the thought of him only causes you pain. But then a sickening thought forms in the back of your mind that you’re such a pain in his ass that he probably doesn’t even want you anymore. You’re just a burden to him at this point, a helpless little baby he has to look after. Can’t be trusted to do anything useful around this house, can’t even be trusted to spend an afternoon alone without turning up wet and freezing cold.

–

You’ve been hugging your knees and letting your sorry self bawl into the bathwater until it turned tepid. Joel hasn’t returned and you haven’t heard his footsteps out in the hallway. You stand up and drain the tub, beginning to shiver once again as the cold air hits you. Without a towel to grab you tiptoe – still dripping wet – the few feet to your bedroom. Once inside you grab a blanket off your bed and wrap it around yourself, wicking away the water droplets on your skin and warming you back up. You climb into bed wrapped up like that, curling on your side with another blanket on the bed overtop you.

You’re startled out of your almost-sleep by the weight of a body sitting on the bed at your back. Fear strikes like a knife through your heart, knowing it’s him.

“Come ‘ere…” you barely hear his throaty growl.

You dare to hesitate and he springs into action, throwing the covers off you and dragging your naked body out of your blanket cocoon, throwing you – legs still flailing – over his knees. You open your mouth to cry out but a warm hand clamps over it firmly, silencing any protest you could make. Unbidden tears spill out of your eyes, running down over his fingers and falling to the floor below.

“You disobey me and you get punished,” he says matter-of-factly.

He begins with swats to the back of your thighs, your yelps completely muted by the heavy hand wrapped around your jaw. He doesn’t give you time between strikes to recover, nor does he pause to soothe your skin or offer you any comfort. You want to squirm away from the sting but you’re too scared of what he’ll do if you try to fight him.

He delivers smacks to one cheek just long enough for it to almost go numb, before switching to the other. His blows land over and over, sharp and hot, unrelenting. You continue to cry, soaking his hand at your face, fighting to remain as still as possible despite every instinct in your body screaming to do the opposite. You’re not counting but it must be at least two dozen strikes before he finally stops.

You lie still and stinging, his denim-clad thighs rough and still rain-damp against your ribs. He remains above you, hands pulled back to his side, panting but mute. Eventually he shifts you off his lap and gently tucks you back into bed, his tender touches belying the harsh discipline he just doled out. He moves to the doorway and stops, his back to you, his head lowered. His voice rumbles deeply but clearly, to be sure you can hear him.

“I don’t know what you were tryin’ to do, but I swear to god, if you ever defy me again I will make you fuckin’ regret it.”

—

Tess returns from the meeting hours later, walking in the house to what looks like the middle of an argument. Joel has Sasha up against the wall in the front hallway, one hand splayed out on her chest pushing her back flush and the other hand pointing a finger in her face. Tess can’t make out what’s being said but Joel clearly doesn’t let her entrance interrupt him.

Then – to her surprise – she watches as Sasha slaps Joel across the face. Joel takes several steps back, looking quite surprised. She sees his face go dark and pulls his own hand back, bringing it forward to reciprocate, knocking Sasha several feet over from where she was standing. But Sasha is ready for it, she takes the hit, absorbs it, and catches herself before she falls too far. She almost immediately rights herself, standing back in front of Joel, chin up, looking defiant. She raises her hand to slap him again and he stops it mid-air, grabbing her wrist firmly but not roughly.

“Alright, enough,” he rumbles.

He releases her wrist and they nod to each other, apparently at an understanding. Sasha goes upstairs as Joel walks towards the door where Tess still stands. He’s moving slowly, like he’s weighted down, but his breathing is rapid, his eyes wide, and his forehead dappled with sweat.

“Is PJ–” she starts.

“She doesn’t go out with Sasha anymore,” he interrupts. “In fact, she doesn’t go out at all. She stays here at the house. I don’t care what she does, but she does not leave.” He turns from her to walk away.

“Is PJ alright?” Tess finishes her sentence to his retreating figure.

“She will be,” he calls back, stalking towards his office.

Tess fully recognizes that the situation is becoming untenable. Joel has been growing more and more unstable, becoming increasingly physically violent with you, snapping at everyone in the house constantly, lashing out at her during their daily meetings and even worse is when he snarls his bullshit out in public, in front of Valley members. She understands that he’s not in a good headspace to talk about his feelings, but his affection for you has rapidly twisted into something much darker, something much more sinister.

You are such a distraction to him and people are definitely noticing, someone new asks her nearly every day about him. She can’t keep covering for his volatile behavior. She has to find a way to intervene.

🖤

Thank you endlessly to @papipascalispunk for helping me with this series and listening to me rant (AND RANTING WITH ME) about Cult Leader Joel (CJ). 🫂I appreciate everything you do.

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh

#devotion series #cult leader joel miller #noxturnalpascal #ofc!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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greenwitchcrafts · 11 months ago

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January 2024 Witch guide

Full Moon: January 25th

New moon: January 11th

Sabbats: None

January Wolf Moon

Known as: Bear Moon, Chaste Moon, Cold Moon, Disting Moon, Goose Moon, Moon of Little Winter, Moon of Strong Cold, Quiet Moon, Snow Moon, Stay at Home Moon, Sun Has Not Strength to Thaw Moon & When Snow Blows Like Spirits In The Wind Moon

Element: Air

Zodiac: Capricorn & Aquarius

Nature spirits: Brownies & Gnomes

Deities: Freya, Hera, Innana & Saraswati

Animals: Coyote & fox

Birds: Blue Jay & pheasant

Trees: Birch & Hazel

Herbs: Cones, holy thistle &marjoram

Flowers: Crocus & Snowdrop

Scents: Mimosa & musk

Stones: Chrysoprase, garnet, hematite, moonstone, onyx & jet

Colors: Black, blue-violet, grey, silver & white

Energy: Adventurous, ambitious, awareness, beauty, beginning & conceiving; business, career, conserving energy, energy below the surface, organization, political matters, potential, protection, recognition, reputation, reversing spells & spirituality

The name for the January full Moon is believed to have originated from Celtic and Old English roots, which European settlers then brought to the New World.

At one point, gray wolves were among the most widespread land mammals on our planet. According to the Wolf Conversation Center, gray wolves “inhabited most of the available land in the Northern Hemisphere.” Habitat destruction and persecution by humans have reduced their range by about a third worldwide and 90 percent in the lower 48 states.

The wolf’s adaptable nature to survive in a wide range of habitats and ability to prey on the largest mammals living in those regions made it widespread. Basically, if there are enough deer, moose, elk, caribou, bison, and musk ox, wolves can survive. Predation of domestic animals caused friction with European settlers and early Americans who aggressively hunted the wolves.

Werewolf myths can be found in ancient Greek and Roman societies, throughout European history and among some Native American tribes. In modern storytelling the transformation from man to wolf has been closely tied to the full Moon in films like “The Wolf Man” and “American Werewolf In London.”

Howl at the Moon means to waste energy pursuing something unattainable. It’s shorthand for doing something crazy. However, howling is hardly a waste of energy among wolf packs. And they aren’t howling at the Moon. The Moon just happens to be shining during times when wolves most often howl.

A wolf’s howl can be heard miles away. The vocalization helps wolves locate separated members and even communicate between packs marking their territories. One study recorded spontaneous howls and responses happen most often between 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.

The cry of wolves doesn’t play into the Sioux name for the January full Moon, which is known as “The Time When Wolves Run Together.” Wolves do plenty of running to defend territory that can stretch hundreds of square miles to find enough prey to support the pack.

Other Celebrations

• Hogmanay | January 1st: is the Scots word for the last day of the old year and is synonymous with the celebration of the New Year in the Scottish manner. It is normally followed by further celebration on the morning of New Year's Day (1 January) and, in some cases, 2 January—a Scottish bank holiday. In a few contexts, the word Hogmanay is used more loosely to describe the entire period consisting of the last few days of the old year and the first few days of the new year. For instance, not all events held under the banner of Edinburgh's Hogmanay take place on 31 December.

The origins of Hogmanay are unclear, but it may be derived from Norse and Gaelic observances of the winter solstice. Customs vary throughout Scotland and usually include gift-giving and visiting the homes of friends and neighbours, with particular attention given to the first-foot, the first guest of the new year.

• Compitalia/ Feast of Lades | January 3-5: was an annual festival in honor of the Lares Compitales, household deities of the crossroads, to whom sacrifices were offered at the places where two or more ways met.

Dionysius said that Servius Tullius founded the festival, which he describes as it was celebrated in his time. Dionysius relates that the sacrifices consisted of honey-cakes (Ancient Greek: πέλανοι) presented by the inhabitants of each house; and that the people who assisted as ministering servants at the festival were not free men, but slaves, because the Lares took pleasure in the service of slaves. He further adds that the Compitalia were celebrated a few days after the Saturnalia with great splendor, and that the slaves on this occasion had full liberty to do as they pleased.

During the celebration of the festival, each family placed the statue of the underworld goddess Mania at the door of their house. They also hung up at their doors figures of wool representing men and women, accompanying them with humble requests that the Lares and Mania would be contented with those figures, and spare the people of the house

Sources:

Farmersalmanac.com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britannica

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thedovesaredying · 10 months ago

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Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 1

First "official" part of Nikto x Reader fic set in the cowboy AU originally created by @ghouljams once again staring our darling Sputnik. Makes a lot more sense if you read the prologue which can be found linked below.

A/N: Did I spend several hours watching Kevin Richardson videos with him hanging out with his hyenas while writing this? Yes. Do I regret it? Absolutely not. This also ended up a lot longer than I was expecting lmao.

Warnings: Depictions of Minor Medical Procedures.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

Prev Part | Next Part

When working as a rural vet there’s a surprising amount of driving involved. Travelling from the clinic to farms and huge properties miles and miles away for in-person appointments and consultations can understandably take several hours out of your day. Most of the time you don’t even have working cell service to help guide you to your destination and you’re forced to either memorise the route beforehand or turn to your old reliable map.

You’re new to the area, having decided to spend some time travelling across the US for the potential experience it could offer you. You’ve done plenty of work on stations in the north of Australia, helping jackaroos to manage any illness within their herds, always moving from place to place, and so Texas seemed like the perfect place to start your travels.

While training, however, you had been given an offer to travel to South Africa to work with the numerous wildlife there both on reserves and in zoos. It was the best year of your life and ignited a passion for working with exotic animals.

Travelling the US for work was an exciting opportunity to help rural communities with their livestock and to work with the numerous native species you’ve never had the chance to encounter in your everyday life. This little town was just another step on your travels and, so far, hadn’t really stood out to you more than any other small town.

So, it isn’t out of place for you to be driving down a lengthy driveway through the woods and pulling up to a rundown old house. What is strange, is the huge creature sitting at the top of the porch.

The hyena is massive. It’s powerfully built with pure muscle, and no doubt would be able to tear you to pieces if it chose to. It’s so distracting that for a long time you don’t even notice the huge man standing beside your car. He looks just as strong as the hyena sitting behind him and you’re not sure how you missed his approach.

When the lady at the front desk informed you that there was a gentleman asking for a veterinarian with experience handling exotics, you were thinking perhaps a rare lizard, or an uncommon species of parrot. What you weren’t expecting was to see an adult hyena staring you down.

You’re more than a little reluctant to leave the safety of the vehicle, but upon receiving a jerk of the head from the man, you cautiously exit the car. Not once do you take your eyes off the predator while you quickly grab your bag from the backseat.

Having dealt with hyenas before, you know better than to show any kind of fear, forcing your shoulders down from your ears and starting to take calm, deep breaths. You offer your name to who you presume is the animal’s owner and hold out a hand for him to shake.

The man, “Nikto,” as he grunts to you, takes your hand after a moment and gives it a firm shake. You’re used to farmers having a strong grip, so you simply offer the man a bright grin. “I take it this is the patient?” you ask, nodding your head toward the hyena in question.

The man is clad head to toe in all-black clothing. Typical cowboy hat, black denim jeans, and a shirt that has a high collar and sleeves that reach all the way down to his wrists where they meet with a pair of leather gloves. All regular clothing, albeit a little dark for such a hot climate, but what really sets him apart is the dark neck gaiter covering most of his features.

You would think it odd for him to be hiding his face on his own property, but you’ve heard that there’s several other ex-military men in the town that also prefer bandanas or masks to showing their bare faces. It looks intimidating, especially given just how huge the guy is, but at the end of the day he’s your client and it isn’t your place to judge.

“да,” Nikto nods, “this is Sputnik.” He looks you up and down, before asking, “you are comfortable with her, yes?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve worked with hyenas before,” you confirm. That, unfortunately, doesn’t make it any easier or less nerve-wracking to be so close to an unrestrained predator. Normally, there’s at least a fence between you and any of the wildlife you’re treating, but hopefully the animal is somewhat friendly given it’s allowed to roam free.

At your confirmation, he lets out a sharp whistle and snaps out a harsh, “КО МНЕ!” Causing the animal to leap to her feet and sprint across the grass to her owner’s side.

You try not to jump when Sputnik runs directly toward you but manage to keep a handle on your reactions. Much to your relief, however, rather than tackling you to the floor and tearing your throat out, the hyena starts laughing excitedly and running circles around you. She’s clearly very curious, stopping every few seconds to try and sniff at you from a distance.

You can imagine it would be an intimidating sight for anyone who has never encountered a hyena before, but she’s clearly just excited to meet someone new. “Is she normally this excited to meet new people?” you ask, unable to resist the smile that grows on your face as Sputnik starts to playfully nip at Nikto’s legs.

The man huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “no.”

You’re beginning to understand that Nikto is not one for making conversation.

As Sputnik calms again, you watch her wander around the area. The issue becomes clear to you quite quickly in the form of a slight limp on one of her hind legs. She seems to otherwise be bright, alert and responsive, only the sore leg causing her problems.

You run through the basic questions about the problem, how long it’s being going on, and how her behaviour has been recently. You quickly take notes on her previous medical history while keeping an eye on Sputnik. After taking down her information, you ask Nikto to bring her to one of the old sheds so you can begin the exam.

She’s a beautiful hyena, and despite not having the behaviour of a domesticated dog, she can somewhat follow her owner’s commands. After seeing Nikto tapping the top of one of the tables, she hops up into a bench for you to more easily inspect her body.

With Sputnik firmly restrained by her owner, you gently reach out for her hind paw. You softly palpate the area, taking note of the large amount of swelling, particularly in the area between two of her toes. After glancing up to ensure she isn’t getting too stressed, you pull apart the toes, spotting a nasty yellow lump of what is presumably infection.

As you check over the area, you notice something black sticking out of the wound. With your trusty pair of tweezers you take hold of the object and begin to gently tease it out of the swollen mass. Sputnik’s leg twitches slightly, clearly not happy about someone touching her sore paw, but after a few soft words of encouragement she settles once again.

Your grip on the object slips a few times, but eventually you’re able to pull it free. It’s a nasty thorn, a whole inch in length that was buried in the poor animal’s foot. Just removing it causes a flood of pus to begin squirting from the wound and you’re thankful for the medical gloves you’re wearing, because it is far from a pleasant smell.

Sputnik whines, trying to pull her paw away again, but with your client still holding her head in place you can continue to express the rest of the fluid without causing her much more distress. With a small syringe of saline, you quickly flush out the remaining chunks of hardened infection until the liquid runs clear.

It’s a small enough opening that she won’t need the wound packed or any stitches to keep it closed. Instead, you spray the area with a thick layer of Blu-Kote to prevent any further infection.

“I'll need to give her a quick antibiotic injection to make sure it won’t come back, just make sure she’s restrained, okay?” You receive a grunt of acknowledgement, then provide the needed shot. Sputnik tries to turn and snap at you, but with Nikto in the way she ends up biting at thin air and growling in frustration.

You gently rub at the hyena’s back with a loving coo, “what a brave girl, you did so well!”

After being released she turns to regard you for a moment, before squealing happily and trying to lick at your face. It seems you’re already forgiven for your cruel transgressions against the poor girl. “Looks like this was the cause of the trouble,” you explain, briefly showing Nikto the old thorn you’d removed.

Nikto turns his gaze to Sputnik, rolling his eyes before gently cuffing her around the back of the head. “Долбоеб,” he mutters, ignoring the way she starts to playfully bite at one of his gloved hands.

You’re not entirely sure what he said, but no doubt it’s some sort of insult. Not that Sputnik seems to care, hopping down from the table and trotting around the barn as if the last ten minutes didn’t occur.

“I gave her a strong antibiotic, but spotted hyenas are pretty notorious for their infections being resistant to treatment, so if she starts getting worse or isn’t improving then be sure to give me a call and we’ll look at if there’s anything we need to do,” you explain, keeping an eye on how Sputnik moves on her feet now.

“Understood,” the man nods, standing ramrod straight with his arms crossed over his chest.

Clearly this man still isn’t very interested in a conversation, given he has nothing further to add and almost seems to be pointedly ignoring you. It’s a little uncomfortable, but he’s certainly not the first... interesting character you’ve dealt with in your career and he won’t be the last. “Do you have any other questions about the treatment?” you ask.

“нет,” he grunts, before quickly adding, “no.”

You nod, offering the man a genuine smile, “well, I’m glad I could help out.” You remove your gloves and quickly start packing away the tools you’d been using, “the office will send through an invoice to your email, so you can pay online or head down to the clinic to pay in person.”

He just nods, watching you silently as you finish up collecting your tools and placing them back away into your bag. His eyes seem to burn into you, his icy gaze piercing through your body and directly into your very soul. You’re not sure how comfortable you are having your innermost self so openly exposed to someone you’ve only just met, but quickly shake off the feeling.

As soon as you’re finished packing, you pull out one of your personal cards, handing it to Nikto. He stares at the piece of cardboard for a long moment, and you quickly explain, “my card, it’s got my number on it in case you ever need help.” You can’t imagine how difficult it must be for him to find someone with genuine experience treating large predatory animals and you’re more than happy to offer as much of your expertise as he wants.

Nikto awkwardly goes to reach for the card with one of his hands, only to pause midway and reach for it with the other one. He fleetingly glances over the card, then tucks it into one of his shirt pockets.

While you make your way back to your car, Nikto calls Sputnik back over and ensures the animal walks at his heels. She doesn’t seem happy with this command, whining and laughing as she looks between her master and you. She very obviously wants to run after you and play but knows better than to ignore her owner.

Sputnik sits next to Nikto as the man watches you quickly pack everything back into your car. She keeps looking between you and Nikto, as if silently begging him to allow her to go back to you for more attention, but he stands strong against her sad eyes. It’s cute, really, since it likely means that weaponized puppy dog eyes are an effective tool in getting the stoic man to crumble if she’s still attempting to use them against him.

Before you hop into the car you give Sputnik a wave, laughing when she cries at you. “Bye, sweetheart!” you coo again, before offering her owner a wave and a smile.

Looking into the rear-view mirror on your way back toward the main road, you can see both Nikto and Sputnik watching you leave. They’re an odd pair, but it’s been a while since you had the chance to work with such a beautiful animal and you can’t help looking forward to seeing both her and her strange human again sometime soon.

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #fanfic #call of duty nikto #nikto x reader #cowboy au

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aricarianis · 3 months ago

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The Widow At The Door. | AO3 Simon "Ghost" Riley / Female Character Psychological Drama, Comfort, Manipulation, Predator/Prey, Female Character Has a Fear of Spiders. One-Shot | 1,450 words. In a panic over a feared predator, she reluctantly accepts help from Simon, a seemingly kind stranger with a hint of menace. As fear and trust collide, she must confront her vulnerabilities and choose between facing her fears or surrendering to an unsettling comfort.

The room echoes with a recently delivered scream, and several minutes of panic drag on before the thought of how she landed in this situation crosses her mind. Short, irregular gasps guide beads of sweat down her body. Her shaky hands clutch a key to communication with the outside world — if only she had someone to call. Back against the door. Nails digging into wood. Frozen in place. Trapped.

Her eyes dart around, searching for an escape plan: on the living room table, a weeks-old notice about the upcoming building-wide pest control. On the couch, only a remote, some pillows, and a stuffed animal overdue for return. The knives on the kitchen counter to her left — useless against the kind of predator outside. A precise hunter, deliberate in every move, with a patience that speaks of experience. Fear spreads like a rare venom, paralyzing her in a way she hasn’t felt in years, not since she last had to fend for herself.

“Are you okay? I heard screaming.” A deep, disembodied voice in the distance brings her back to reality.

“Oh thank God! C-can you see it? By the door.” Her voice trembles, giving away her state of mind.

“I don’t see anything.” His voice grows louder, closer. “Mind telling me what I’m supposed to be looking for?”

“It’s a… it’s a spider. A huge spider. Staring at me when I opened the door.”

The memory of its gaze triggers a cascade of tiny, electrified bumps across her skin. A small eternity passes before the booming voice makes a comeback.

“Maybe you scared it away when you screamed. Do you want to come out? It’s just me out here, I’ll put it away if it shows up-"

“No! Jesus, no.” She interrupts, fear pushing her mind to create all sorts of irrational scenarios, all ending with her getting attacked by the menacing predator. “I’ll just… stay where I am. Thank you, mister.”

“Simon. Name’s Simon, I live down the hall. You don’t have to call me mister,” the stranger stated.

Her mind races, flipping through images like a film reel, searching for anything to put a face to the voice outside the door. Then, it clicks: a broad frame, towering height, dark eyes that seem to bore through you. A sinister impression that always left her uneasy. They’d crossed paths often, her eyes always darting away, her phone a shield against unwanted conversation. She once even called a friend in the elevator just to avoid acknowledging his presence, feeling his gaze linger as she spoke of loneliness and heartbreak. A gaze that made her wish she could read his mind.

And now here he was, putting himself in the line of danger to help her. Silly instincts.

“So your plan is to never leave your apartment again?” Simon asks.

She chuckles, a weak attempt to mask her unease. “I would if I could but… ah, it’s okay. I’ll call the manager tomorrow, see if the pest control company is still coming in-“

“They’re not,” Simon interrupts, “coming in, I mean. They wrapped up a few days ago.”

“Fuck.” She closes her eyes as a deep sigh escapes her lips. Her way out of accepting the stranger’s help slipping through her fingers. “I’m out all day, I haven’t even seen them around. They shouldn’t have wrapped up if monsters like that are still out there.”

“Maybe it was waiting for the right moment to come out.”

She couldn’t tell if he was joking. “Right as I’m trying to go out for dinner?”

“I mean, maybe it knows you shouldn’t be alone,” Simon carries on, “maybe it’s looking for a warm place to stay and it took a liking to you.”

She shivers, not just from the thought of the spider, but from the way Simon’s words hang in the air. Silly instincts making a comeback.

“What do you mean ‘took a liking to me’? My place isn’t warm or inviting and, besides, I hate that. I hate that something I can’t see gets to choose me and make me feel trapped. It feels like there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“There is.” His tone rock solid.

“What?”

“You can come out.”

“Say what now?” Her voice rising in volume.

“The spider is probably more scared than you are. Come out.”

“You can’t be serious,” she scoffed.

“Why?”

“‘I’m trapped, Simon!”

The mention of his name for the first time in the exchange opens the path for bluntness to come through.

“You’re the one trapping yourself right now. I told you the spider isn’t out here, it’s just me.”

She hesitates, his words catching her by surprise. “You think I’m trapping myself?”

Simon’s voice is steady but gentle. “You’re hiding behind a door from a guy you’ve seen many times before. If there was a spider here, it’s long gone now. I know we don’t know each other, but I’m just trying to help.”

Guilt crashes in like relentless waves. Loneliness and heartbreak had blinded her to kindness and compassion. Her tone softens. “I’ve never had to worry about this before.”

“About spiders?”

“About facing scary things on my own.” She looks down at the tips of her fingers peeking out of the sleeves of a jacket — too big to be called hers. The warmth it once provided now feeling like a constricting burden. Heavy air of an anxious summer night.

“You’re not on your own,” Simon says soflty. “I don’t mean to pry, but if you want to share, I’m here to listen.”

Sharing with a stranger would make it real. Friends might understand her reasons, but strangers demand context. Context as to why she trapped herself in a cage she created — one whose key still carried the warmth of past hands. Hands that made her realize hers were better off holding bars. Barriers, like the door between herself and the spider. A comfortable prison that took away the pain of having agency. The kind of pain that has landed her here. The kind predators can sense.

“Are you really sure it isn’t out there?” She diverts, her voice revealing a hint of exhaustion.

“Yeah, I’ve looked everywhere. Well, everywhere except…” He pauses, leading her on.

“IT COULD’VE GOTTEN INTO MY HOUSE?” she shouts, frantically searching for the predator that could’ve slipped into her home.

“It could, but that’s out of your control. Spiders are sneaky. They get into places without anyone noticing and hide in the dark until it’s time to feed.”

“Stop talking like that. I’m scared!”

“You won’t be if you let me in.” His bass voice hovers somewhere between friendly and ominous. “You know, to check it out.”

With a quick shrug, the jacket slips to the floor. Fear clouds her mind, leaving no room for second thoughts. As always, there’s relief in surrender. Her trembling hands fumble with the lock, struggling to keep up with the urgency in her head. The door swings open. A breeze slips inside. Her eyes lift. Simon.

“Are you okay?” he asks, softness everywhere but his ever-piercing eyes. She nods and steps aside, making space for him to enter.

Simon methodically searches the apartment. His eyes scan every corner and shadow with a practiced gaze, fingers brushing against surfaces as if sensing for movement. A precise hunter, deliberate in every move, with a patience that speaks of experience. He pauses occasionally, offering reassuring glances that suggest there’s nothing to fear anymore.

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that the spider is not here.” The corners of Simon’s lips curl up, his voice slicing through the anxious silence of the apartment. She sighs in relief, and thanks him. He takes it as a sign, an invitation. “So… still feel like going out for dinner? All this hunting left me hungry.”

She hesitates, her gaze shifting to the door. The invitation is simple, yet it holds a weight of its own. She could refuse. Step outside the trap Simon pointed out she put herself in, by herself. Walk out into the world knowing there was a spider that took a liking to her, but she wasn’t going to let it dictate her life. But in this moment, with her comfort zone tempting, she finds herself falling back into her old patterns.

“Yeah,” she says, her eyes dropping to the jacket, then back to Simon. “I’d like that.”

Simon’s smile broadens, and he gestures toward the door. “After you.”

As they walk through the doorway, Simon glances at the notice he slid under her door a few weeks ago. A small reminder to look for a sweet new home for his tarantula. After all, he has another pet to take care of now.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod #cod x reader #aricarianis

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yautjalover · 1 year ago

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I’m sure a good number of you have heard that I and a few people have been working on a Yautja lore guide! We have been very busy the last couple of months and nearly complete. I just wanted to update y’all and let you know there’s been some slight restructuring. Some events occurred that ended in losing one writer, but don’t worry, because we’ve found a few more to replace them! 🙂

This guide will be available on Ao3 as a collaboration between myself and the other writers. When it is complete, I will post the link here on my blog.

I know this has taken a REALLY long time, but we’re so close! Our new timeline is looking like maybe next month or October. It’s a LOT of work! Please be patient with us as we work to finish this for the community! ❤️

#Yautja love guide #community project for the community #yautja #yautjalover #predator #avp #alien vs predator #Yautja everything

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astridhoff03 · 1 month ago

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My thoughts on Season 2 of the greatest Chaos in the World of DreamWorks TV…

Oh my gosh, did this season yet again not disappoint, even if it has a bit of a slow start, it is still a great story. I definitely can see past the little flaws, because it’s still a good show with emotional moments and thrilling adventures. Also at the end of the season it will get really dark, darker than the Jurassic World Trilogy ever could’ve gone. I got goosebumps just like watching the Jurassic Park movies. And more emotional than every movie in the Jurassic Park/World franchise. Such compelling, complex characters with well developed backstory’s. I honestly was speechless when I finished season two and thought again, wow they scored again with this show,

My favorite episode is definitely two because how they showed us, how Brooklynn reacts to the loss of her arm and the fact that everyone thinks she’s dead. Kiersten Kelly does a great job in executing Brooklynns emotional journey in this, I think she has took a bit inspiration of herself loosing an important part of the body.

And Soyona Santos is an incredible villain, her backstory is also really interesting and how she interacts in the whole show with Brooklynn is just amazing. My favorite scene of her is when she draws Brooklynn, she never was so intimidating and seems extremely intelligent and dangerous. Together with the Raptor Lady she’s now one of the best villains in the Jurassic Park franchise. Also I just noticed that the thing with the lazer makes actually a lot of sense, even if I think it’s not as scary as the whistle of the Raptor Lady. Also Soyonas animated version is prettier than her live action counterpart. It’s just funny how much more intimidating and dangerous the JW: Dominion villains are in the series.

What Brooklynn does is not good for her but I can also understand her, she wants to protect her friends and family. But it was sad to see that Ben was near at a panic attack when Brooklynn called him. Also Yaz and Sammy are still the cutest and heathliest relationship in the entire camp fam but I like that Darius and Kenji finally get along again, I missed their friendship and dynamic so much. Kenji has gone through so much, he’s the most tragic figure in the entire cast of how much he experienced loss in his life. And Yaz and Sammy have grown stronger together. I love how Sammy tries to decorate the container and Yaz watches her with so much love and admiration.

And don’t let me start on the dinosaurs this season. They were incredible. The Suchomimus or as Billy would said it Suchimimus has a beautiful design and many incredible action scenes, my favorite is when he fights the hippo. I also like the the communication between the Albino Baryonyx and the Atrociraptor Red, was very scary and also how he walked behind Brooklynn was bizarre. Leucotistic Baryonyx is also the perfect combination of the idea of the hybrids and the normal dinosaur from Jurassic Park. It’s like they’ve found a perfect compromise where every fan gets something out of it. The chase in the dark with the eyeless Baryonyx was scary as hell, I can’t find words for it and also with what calmness Soyona Santos guides Brooklynn through the darkness, while her friends get chased. Geba was also pretty cute and funny, I feared for her life in the last episodes. It was actually a really good Idea to show how humans, animals and the dinosaurs get along on other continents. Was very interesting to witness and also helped to understand the world better our heroes are now in. The Majungasaurus was also very cool to see finally in the Jurassic Franchise and I am happy that my favorite dinosaur of all time, the Allosaurus has a final hurrah in episode two. This magnificent beast was going through a lot, blindness, serval fights who could’ve easily ended deadly, she was blamed for killing Brooklynn, was hunted and serval times imprisoned. I feel very sorry for my favorite predator of the Jurassic Park franchise, hopefully she can find finally peace in her future as our Camp Family. But I guess we have to wait until season three. I am happy when I see DODGSON again and the biosyn valley.

youtube

#dreamworks animation #jurassic park franchise #jurassic world #jurassic world dominion #jurassic series #jurassic world chaos theory #jurassic world camp cretaceous #soyona santos #the broker #Youtube

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whynotjohnlock · 1 year ago

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Doctor x ADHD reader

^ My mental state at any given time when anyone asks about what happened yesterday.

Warnings: fluff, It might be a tad long, Grammar mistakes, you may feel slightly offended if you're a nerotipical person, the author wrote this because they didn't want to sleep and needed comfort.

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You'd forgotten something again. Was it about your job? Your family? Your friends you hadn't kept up with because you had misremembered the dates for? That one hyper fixation that you had today?

Nothing matched. Your brain was screaming at you for the time you wasted rethinking about what you had forgotten; but nothing came to mind.

A normal day then.

Then, as a distraction from your thoghts a high tech laser blaster thing punched through a brick wall and you started running for your life. Again.

There were alien pepper shaker robots with plungers. Why where they just repeating themselves over and over? Was that just how they spoke, or was there more to it? Was it nessasary to the way they shot lasers?

"Exterminate! Exterminate!" A laser jolted and swished right next to you.

"Right, I have to run."

And run.

And run. Except, now you had to not crash onto the person-

To late.

"Oh, hello humans! Is this your way of saying hello? Did I miss a decade?"

You reluctanly graped the strange man's hand. You were not fazed by the oddness in the queston; your thoghts were stranger. "I don't think so. It's just the fact that there are alien pepper shakers with plungers after us."

The man's face darkened, his youthful peesona flown out the window. "Where?"

You knew that the police would be of no help and the sadness in this man's eyes seemed to be familiar. "Can you help us if I tell you?"

"Short answer: Most likely."

"Now witch way?"

The question prompted eternal panic. Witch way was left? You couldn't remember. Were you facing north or south? You couldn't just point in a direction, because you had run in a extremely non-linear way.

Words had never been an accurate source of communication for you. Why were you this way? Well, you knew why; you had been diagnosed with ADHD, but that didn't answer your question. Why did you always forget the things you wanted to remember most? The strange man looked rather inpatient at your mental sputtering. You had to do something! So, you did the only thing you could think of at the time. Quickly you grabbed his outstretched hand and ran, guiding him though the chaotic path you had taken.

Your mind had not managed to retain much running for your life, but your feet did.

...Pass the blue house.

...Turning 90 degrees at the broken stop sign.

...Jaywalking around the stopped cars in the street.

...Turning again after the nameless black dog.

...Though a corporate building.

…And to the familiar building with the tin tanks.

your hand still fully clasped with this stranger you had just met, you spoke in between panting and gasping for air. "This is it. These are the alien metal tank creatures."

As if on cue, the screams not even across the blook started up again and an army of daleks (Not that you knew what they were called at the time) turned into view.

The madman lurched forward in outrage much like a predator looming in on their prey. He was unnerving. "Alright listen up! I am the Doctor, and you are the daleks! You have no right to this world, and It’s protected by none other than me. And you have made a grave mistake messing with me when I don’t have a companion, or anyone to holding me back. Leave before I run out of mercy."

"THE DOCTOR IS UNARMED. WE WILL DO NO SUCH THING."

EXTERMINATE!

A laser shot from the thingy that would have hit the silly man instead wiped by him as I pulled him into a run again.

Hiding behind a dumpster in an abandoned alley the Doctor fiddled around with a metal glowy stick and welded something together from his pockets quickly. "What are you doing?"

"No time to explain, get me some sort of electrical circuit board!"

"Will my phone work?"

Wordlessly the Doctor takes my phone, prys it from it's cashing, snaps it in half, and conects it to a very peculiar looking device.

EXTERMINATE!

The Daleks find us again but this time we don't run. The Doctor chucks the machine at the invasion party they aim towards us ready to end us.

EXTER-

The Doctor aims his tech stick toward the sky causing his device to activate. The result is instantaneous. Every dalek that was in front of us and firing ends up blowing up in several malformed chunks.

More daleks screech out words as they approach us. "EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!"

"Ha! I've rerouted the your primary weapon to your self-distruct sequence by changing the commands signals! The doctor is never helpless unarmed, you lot should know that by now."

"RETREAT! RETREAT!"

The Daleks start to be enveloped by an otherworldly white glow and disappear all at once.

The mad man seems to return to an upbeat face and seems to slip his mask back on seamlessly as if the darkness never touched his eyes. He looked again to be a harmless Nerodiverrgent, clumsy and meek as if he hadn't just felled a armada of aliens ready to destroy the earth. he muttered under his breath about inter-galactic law, blissfully unaware of all the odd looks his direction who believed him insane.

It reminded you of the mask you had to put up for all the "Normal" people in your life. How many times had you stopped being every thing you were just for a brief connection?

"Hello, I think introductions are in order! what did you say your name was?"

You plunged back into the real world from your thoghts. "Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, you seem awfully calm considering your planet was just invaded."

"I could say the same thing about you. Also how did you do all that? Are you even human?"

"I'm the Doctor." The man enthusiasticly spoke as if that explained the anomalys of the day.

"Is the your last name or did you just have mean parents that named you Doctor?"

"I'm not human, and it's common for my species to have titles we choose for names."

"Right. I suppose another alien species isn't the weirdest thing that's happened today."

The Doctor broke out into a brilliant little grin. And reached into his coat pocket to grab a little black wallet thing. "Hold on I want to see if I'm right real quick. What's on this paper?"

"Um, It's blank?" I don't think I was catching whatever the silly man wanted me to see.

"You are clever! I knew it! And I do need a companion after...." The Doctor pauses in sorrow and pain.

"Y/N, how would you like to come with me?"

"Um, do you travel or something?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention it, haven't I? I go to lots and lots of different places and meet all sorts of aliens all the time. I hope you know most of them aren't like the Daleks. Millions of planets and galaxys and pulsars and planets up in the sky, one day I'll see them all."

It took a while to comprehend what silly man had just said. You adored the stars. And now this man you'd just met had really just asked you to go with him to see and go to places humans wouldn't go for maybe billions of years!? To boldy go were no one has gone before? (I'm an unapologetically ing references and I'm not sorry.) Was this heaven? Had you died in the Dalek attack?

"That sounds utterly fantastic! You're sure you want someone like me?"

"What are you talking about? You just saved my life and were fearless in the face of a world ending threat. If course I want someone like you."

"I just, usually people don't like the way I think."

The Doctor almost seemed offended. "Do I look like a usual person?"

"Good point."

I looked down in slight embarrassment for bringing it up.

"Hey look at me." The Doctor softly grabbed my shoulder and I tilted my face up to meet his sincere eyes.

"You know what I've found in my nine hundred years of life? I found out the people who get called Quiet or shy have the most interesting thoughts. I found out that the loneliest people end up being the kindest, that the people with disabilities have so much more grit and determination than the people that don't, that the people called slow are the most brilliant when they're done analyzing. that the so called freaks and weirdos of the world are twice as clever and twice as kind."

"Do you know why?" I was near tears and shook my head.

"Because people like you and me have to work twice as hard only to get half as far. We have strength, far beyond that the average eye can see because we're trying to make up for faults by working twice as hard. Our struggles make us more resilient, more creative, and better people. We take it apon ourselves to attempt to appear normal in an attempt to make connections, when in really they should be the ones understanding us."

"You humans are so silly we it comes to different ways of thinking. On gallifrey, you'd be celebrated, not punished for what you call a quote 'disorder'."

I hugged him. I hugged him harder and tighter than any stranger I'd ever hugged before.

Tears. Happy tears flew down my cheek. I loved this stranger, not for his looks or wacky demeanor.

But because there is that silly man's arms I knew again what it felt like to be understood.

We were standing in a world of unknowns, at top a street that had just been invaded but I knew one thing:

"I want to travel with you, Doctor."

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A/N: I'm sorry if you personally don't feel represented in the way I wrote (Y/N) having ADHD and ADD, but I want you to know that I'm only trying to share my experiences as I myself have been diagnosed. I don't want to shame anyone that shares my experiences; just bring them into the light.

#doctor who #doctor x reader #10th doctor #gender neutral reader #doctor who x male reader #11th doctor #tenth doctor #12th doctor #eleventh doctor #10th doctor x reader #adhd

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