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oneforthemunny · 12 days ago

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christmas with the devil |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: even the dirty magazines are in the holiday spirit. after you and eddie stumble upon a particularly interesting magazine, you both are inspired by the spirit of the season.

apart of my munny's merriest series!

contains: minors dni smut. dom/sub themes. dom!eddie x sub!reader. spanking. spanking with implement. switching. pinv sex. a little roleplay lol? all consensual and sweet. they're kinda nerdy and i love them. eddie hates christmas, reader loves it. they're in love.

“Can you hurry up?” Your eyes cut around the abnormally crowded comic book store, chin ducking towards your chest as if all their eyes were on you.

Bundles of teenagers, kids, parents all gathered around and looking through the stacks of Marvel issues, while you and your boyfriend trudged towards the scandalous back area. Marked off with a rope that held a sign, ‘Adults Only’ in bold print and was the vault for the more risqué magazines.

“Relax, baby, we’re both adults.” Eddie cooed, a smirk in his tone that had your teeth gritting with annoyance. “We’ll be in and out, I promise.”

“I don’t know why they have to make it so obvious.” You muttered, sliding past the rope and scurrying into the tiny room, filled with X-Rated magazine covers. “The rope seems like a little much.”

Eddie snickered, his hand finding your waist, pulling you into him. “I kinda like it. Feels like they’re giving me the VIP treatment.”

You rolled your eyes, but stayed flush against him, his chest warm on your frostbitten skin. “VIP treatment while you buy your porno magazines.” Your nail brushed over the edge of a Playboy, lifting a brow up at Eddie pointedly.

“It’s not a porno magazine,” Eddie rolled his eyes lightly. “It’s just made by Penthouse, but it’s more sci-fi than-”

“-I know, Ed.” You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temple. “You know I don’t care. I just hate coming in here.” You looked around, the dim lights and tight corners all plastered with vulgar photos. “Just feel skeezy.”

“Skeezy?” Eddie grinned down at you. “Some of our best ideas came from this room, baby.”

Your cheeks burned with a rush of heat, eyes cutting to the door carefully. It was true. You had many Fotoplays Magazines to thank for some of your favorite tricks in the bedroom. The countless times you and Eddie would flip through the dirty magazines, oohing and awing at the photos and stories, bookmarking pages that sparked your excitement to try later.

“There it is.” Eddie’s chains jingled with his steps, pulling you out of your thoughts. You frowned, following his ringed hand towards the Omni Magazine cover.

“Look at this. This looks so fuckin’ sick, doesn’t it? UFO Edition. This one’s gonna be all about aliens and shit.” Eddie grinned, bubbling with nerdy excitement you found overwhelmingly endearing.

“Mhm,” You hummed, though you only partially heard him, your attention caught by the magazine in front of you.

Eddie’s smile dropped, looking up at you with a furrowed brow, following your line of vision to what had captivated your attention over him. “What’d ya see, babe?” Eddie muttered, a low gravel in his tone that had you shivering.

“What��s this?” You pointed at the cover. There on the glossy page, a goat-like demon with bat wings lifting a bundle of sticks high in the air, ready to bring them down on a woman’s bottom. Her ass stuck high up in the air, clad in lingerie, face animated with excited fear.

“Krampus,” Eddie read, pointing at the golden cursive font below the image. “Hm, I don’t really know. Looks cool though, doesn’t he?” He grinned, nudging you playfully.

“Looks like your little Hellfire mascot thingy.” You nodded back, picking up the magazine.

Eddie’s brows lifted, suddenly, no longer interested in his Omni, tossing it back on the shelf, too consumed with the magazine capturing your attention. “You want to get this too?”

“No, you don’t have to. I was just looking to see what it’s about.” You hummed, flipping through the pages until you found the cover story, an erotic retelling of the European Christmas demon.

“Punishes those who misbehave with birch rods.” Eddie grinned, adjusting himself shamelessly behind you. His mind was racing, flooded with excited, devious ideas with every image. “Seems like you need Krampus to visit you.”

“Nuh-uh,” Your tongue clicked, glaring at Eddie. “Why would you say that? I’ve been such a good girl this year.”

“Psh, please,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “You’ve been such a bad girl.” His voice dropped, breath tickled the shell of your ear, leaving you quaking with excitement.

“No, I haven’t.” Your whine sounded more like a mewl, gripping the magazine so tightly the pages were creasing under your grasp.

“I guess we’ll find out.” Eddie shrugged, pulling away from you, plucking the magazine out of your hand, tucking it under his arm with the other. “See if Krampus visits you tonight.” The wink he gave you left your tummy flipping with heat, following him to the counter on shaky legs, mind racing with excitement of what was to come.

“Well, well, well,” You jumped at the sound of Eddie’s voice, booming from the doorway behind you. He’d been stowed away in his room since you got home, only telling you not to come in- that he had a surprise for you.

“Look what we have here.” Eddie waved the rolled up paper around in his hands, grinning at you as he took slow, calculated steps closer and closer to you.

“What’s that?” You frowned, shoving the stack of folded dish towels into the drawer.

Eddie’s tongue rolled over the inside of his cheek, looking at you with a positively primal glare. “Looks like this year’s naughty list just came in.” Eddie sucked in a breath, shaking his head exaggeratedly. “And I’ve got some real bad news for you, babe.”

You feigned surprise, matching his playful, dramatic tone. “No,” You gasped lightly. “Don’t tell me I’m on that list. There’s no way. I’ve been sooo good this year.”

He could kiss you, right then and there. How easily you played along, gave right into his dramatics without question. How perfect you were for him. He’d tell you after this, later when you were curled into him, sharing soft kisses and softer touches. But for now, he had a part to play.

“This list begs to differ,” Eddie shrugged dramatically, shaking his head, unrolling the list he’d been working on. There in gothic, cursive font was your name, listed under the intimidatingly gloomy ‘Naughty’ side. “And unfortunately there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“This has to be a mistake. I’ve been nothing but a good girl this year. Perfect.” You quipped, stepping towards him.

“No, this list doesn’t lie, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head, toe to toe with you now, looking at you down the slope of his nose. “You’ve been naughty this year, and you know what that means?”

You shook your head, playing coy while your lashes batted at him. Eddie swore his heart was going to burst right out of his chest.

“It means you’ll have to take your lashing from Krampus.” Eddie shook his head at you.

“My lashing?” You gawked lightly, a giggle of surprise bubbling out of your chest. “I thought naughty girls got coal in their stockings.” You frowned, lip jutting in a gentle pout towards him.

“Not around here they don’t.” Eddie grinned, a darkness to his eyes that had your heart rushing with floods of excitement. “Naughty girls around here get a visit from Krampus if they’ve been bad. They get corrected for their bad behavior.”

“Well, I don’t want to be naughty.” You sighed heavily, really playing it up for him. You could see how much he was loving this. “I’ll do whatever I have to, to get off that list.”

Eddie swallowed back a grin, nodding slowly instead. His footsteps fell heavy on the kitchen floor, striding over towards the stove, pulling the designated junk drawer open for the cutting pliers. You squirmed under his intense gaze when he brought them back, handing them to you, neither one of you breaking eye contact from the other.

“Go get me eight good ones from the tree in the front, alright? Make ‘em good ones.” Eddie nodded at you.

Your legs felt like they might give out slipping on your boots, wrapping Eddie’s jacket around you, climbing down the creaking steps of the trailer. It was cold out, everything dried and dead for the winter- it made the perfect time to pick a switch.

Eddie watched from the doorway, fingers drumming with excitement taking in every branch you’d pick. How you’d examine it carefully before tossing it to the side or adding it to the collection in your hand. It consumed him with excitement, cock throbbing with exhilaration.

“Will these do?” You held the branches towards him, after what felt like an eternity, standing on the steps, waiting for his approval.

Eddie carefully looked at each one, swishing them through the air, before nodding. “Very good.” He gave you a curt nod. “So you can be good then, hm?”

You blistered under his gaze, burning with excitement as you kicked off your boots, chin ducking so he couldn’t see your flustered grin. “I always try to be good.”

Eddie snorted in laughter. “Yeah, right.” He muttered sarcastically. “Now, you’re back on the naughty track. You know better than to lie.”

You glared at him, huffing with a pout, shrugging his jacket off and hanging it on the hook. “I’m not lying.”

Eddie’s brows lifted, in shock or in warning, you weren’t sure. “You better watch your tone with me.” Eddie pointed at you, waving a branch near you to make his point. “You’re not in much of a position to be mouthy.”

You bit back a snarky reply, lip jutting further instead, trailing behind Eddie towards the living room. Eddie laid the branches out, lining them up evenly on the coffee table in front of you.

“Hold on,” You stilled at the sound of his voice, stopping before you knelt into position in front of the couch. “Go ahead and strip f’me.” Eddie’s eyes rolled over your frame.

Your hands shook with excitement, trembling when you took off your jeans shoving them to the ground, pulling your sweater off with a rough tug, giving them a half hearted fold and placing them on the recliner. Your nipples pebbled in the cold of the room, maybe from your own excitement.

Eddie gave you a nod of approval before he left the room, silently going to the kitchen. You sunk to your knees on the shagged carpet, spine straightening long and eyes forward; you were on your best behavior, after all.

The soft screech of duct tape tore through the living room before Eddie could enter, the silver tape in his hand, teeth tearing off the end of the long strip. He made a show of wrapping the bundle of wood together, looking at you with dark eyes while he wound the tape over the switches to keep them together.

“Why don’t you go ahead and bend over the back of the couch for me, hm?” Eddie nodded, twisting the tight bundle in his hands. “You know how I want you.”

You swallowed back a shiver when you stood, every inch of your exposed skin tingling with a prickling heat of excitement. Arms stretched out in front, you lowered yourself over the arm of the couch, elongating yourself and propped nicely so your ass was high in the air.

“I think twelve will suffice, don’t you?” Eddie hummed, eyes scanning your features for even a quip of uncertainty- he was good like that. “One for each month.”

You nodded, shifting from foot to foot, desperate to alleviate the aching that was ever growing between your legs. “Yes, Sir,” Your voice lilted to an airy, positively sweet coo. It made Eddie’s cock lurch, throb with blinding pleasure that left him reeling.

“Look at me,” Eddie’s hand squeezed your hip lightly, pulling your eyes back to his. “That’s good?”

You nodded, pushing up on your forearms. “That’s good, Ed.” You gave him a soft smile. “If it’s too much, I’ll let you know.”

Eddie couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his features. He had an overwhelming urge to kiss you, but he’d wait, for now anyway.

“Why don’t you count them for me too then?” You jumped at the feeling of the branches on the back of your thighs, scratchy and rough. Oh, this was going to burn, you could already feel it. You throbbed between your legs at the thought.

A thundering crack of his palm left you gasping, hips tensing over the arm of the couch in surprise. “Did you hear me?”

“Y-Yes, Sir,” You babbled, tongue thick in your mouth, head spinning with pleasure. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

Eddie tutted mockingly, shaking his head. “I don’t know if you’re cut out for the nice list, baby. Sure isn’t seeming like you’re gonna make the cut after all.”

“Noo,” Your lip jutted out in a whine. “I am good, please, I’ll be good.”

Eddie tapped the bundle of switches against your ass lightly. “We’ll see about that.” He muttered. “Make sure you count loud for me. Loud and clear.” You nodded, lowering your chin back onto the cushion before you.

A whispering swish of wind was your only warning before you felt the familiar searing of heat across your ass, this time in multiples instead of the singular switching you’d had before. It wasn’t as hard as usual, Eddie’s uncertainty with the newness of this shining through, but enough to have you hissing, dancing from foot to foot at the sting.

“One,” You hissed through gritted teeth, fist balling to keep from reaching back, running out the itchy sting.

The second hit came a little harder than before, enough to leave you whining at the impact. “Two,”

Your voice tightened with every blow, lifting into near squeaks until number eight. “Ei-Eight,” Followed by a wet sniffle, and a pathetic little mewl.

Eddie grinned, running his hand over your hot skin, lines of his handiwork already beginning to show. He took mercy on you, giving you a soft rub that he knew you were craving, fighting from doing yourself.

“You’re doing very good, baby.” Eddie cooed, grinning as you rubbed your teary face into your arms, soothing the burn in your nose, trying to hide your tears. “Looks like you might make it on the nice list afterall.”

“Thank you,” You gave a squeaky whisper, face still buried under your arms.

Eddie gave your right cheek a firm squeeze, grinning at how you screeched. “I’ll do these last ones quick, how’s that sound? Since you’ve been so good.” Truthfully, Eddie wasn’t sure he could last much longer. Not with the little sounds you’d make that drove him wild, blind with pleasure. Not with the way he could see how wet you were, get an agonizing glimpse between your legs every time you’d shift that left his mouth watering.

You nodded silently, and he didn’t correct you, too blinded with his own intense pleasure. The final four came down in quick, crescendoing successions that had you lifting up off the couch, voice squeaking through sobs as you counted them, squirming desperately to get away.

The sound of his zipper followed the crunching thud of the switch bundle being tossed on the carpet. Your eyes glossy already, cheek pressed to the couch, tears and a string of drool pooling carelessly beneath you.

“Am I on the nice list now?” You whimpered, so soft and airy, lashed batting up at Eddie sweetly. He thought he might burst, through his heart or maybe through his dick.

“Fuck yeah, yes, baby.” Eddie kicked his jeans off, hand wrapping around his throbbing length, stroking himself enough to alleviate some of the aching throb of pleasure.

“Definitely on the nice list. The top of it too. You’re such a good girl, you know that? You do know that don’t you?” He gave you a wide grin, body folding over yours and placing a kiss on your left shoulder blade, erection rubbing against the hot, sensitive skin of your ass.

“C’mere,” Eddie muttered, pulling you by your hips closer to him, shamelessly rubbing himself into you. “Let me take care of you now, baby. You want that? Hm, that sound good?”

“Yes,” You whimpered, hips rolling back towards him, desperate for friction. “Don’t tease me, Ed.”

He let out a small laugh, fingers sliding through your slick, sopping folds, circling your clit, grinning at how you shuddered. “I won’t tease. You’ve been so good, I won’t tease you, baby.” Eddie muttered, pressing a final soft kiss the the middle of your spine, before he pushed himself in, bottoming out and stilling just for a moment, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

He fucked you over the couch, hard and messy, furiously rutting into you while his fingertips made bruises on your hips from his grip. The way you were taking him, walls squeezing him just right, both you spend collecting at the base of his cock; he decided that you were definitely on the nice list, top of it. On his, at least, his perfect, nice, good girl.

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slashersidewhore · 2 years ago

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Slashers! First meeting their S/O

Slashers! x gn!reader

Includes Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: beefy murder boyfriends, fluffy shit, pre-relationship stuff, love at first sight, mentions of murder/gore/malicious intentions, violence

Michael Myers

It was Halloween night, dark eyes through holes in a white, cast of a mask staring through the second story window of an old, decrepit house

A young boy skipping by as in a blue, capped superhero, an older couple strolling on the opposite street, arm in arm minding their own in the breezy night

Eyes cast downward as the sharp ring of a doorbell shot through the old bones of the house, glint of a butchers knife tight in the grasp of the man know silently making his way through the upper hall

“Are we even supposed to be going in here?”

“Who cares, it’s tradition to check out the Myers mansion, relax”

“I don’t know, this feels wrong..”

Listening to what seemed to be two young adult, the shrill voice of one of them almost instantly striking the silent man with a headache

Michael watched from the shadows as the pair came into view, the louder of the two wearing her hair in tight pigtails, a cheerleader outfit splattered with what was obviously fake blood, a bad attempt at a murder victim

Ready to lumber from the darkness and strike down on the intruders, the man was struck to the spot he stood as you came into view, wearing another poorly, and clearly last minute, thrown on pirate costume

You were what he imagined when the perfect kill was dreamt, your face burned into his as your pictured screams of fear and pain died as did your fighting spirit, the knife once again tightened in his grip, knuckles turning a pale white, veins pulsing beneath taut skin

He wanted, no, needed to kill you

Even the thought alone send a bold chill of excitement through the otherwise lifeless body of his

“You know what would be so funny-“

The girl in pigtails spoke as she flipped around the corner, the voice shrinking in her throat quickly morphing in a scream of terror as she bumped into the large, awaiting body of the infamous Michael Myers

Although her scream was also short lived as a rough hand was immediately around her throat, lifting her from her feet and slamming her back into the adjacent wall breath knocked from her body at the impact

His other hand rose, moonlight catching the long, silver blade as it was plunged deep into her stomach, twisting, turning as her throat gave up on its scream, another shriek caused the killers head to twist like an owl

There you stood, frozen in place with hands partly covering your mouth, eyes wide, not shaking, not running, just watching as the man before you brutalized your friend

But as your eyes caught each others in the dimly lit hallway, Michaels grasp on the now corpse released, body hitting the floor with a dull thud he didnt bother to pull the knife from its placed nestled between dead flesh, not even glancing down at it

Your hands slowly fell from your face, still not shaking, but clearly stressed with sweat as you wiped your hands on the fabric covering your thighs

“I’m, sorry for breaking in”

Your voice was soft, careful but not disingenuous, Michael didn’t know how to react, unable to look away or even move

His head tilted to the left, mask bunching at the bottom, he turned on his heel and made his exit through the rickety wooden door leading to the backyard, leaving the body, knife, and you alone in the corridor

As his walk through the brisk night air flooded under the neck of his mask, the killer could feel his normally emotionless face scrunch with confusion

If hearing you scream in fear wasn’t what he thought he wanted from you, then what did he want from you?

He would have to investigate this sudden curiosity closely

Jason Voorhees

Jason was tirelessly indulging the day by sitting on the end of his cabins patio, watching the slow turn of various wild animals go by

There weren’t any campers to keep him busy, nor screams and boisterous laughter of teens trying to get their rocks off on the property, just the hum of June bugs and trees swaying beneath the gentle breeze of warm weather

That was until a shrill yelp drilled into Jason’s eardrums, bothered by the distraction from his day of calm, the man stood with shoulders squared, grabbing the awaiting machete perched against one of the patios wooden posts

Marching through the dense woods, his boots crushed leaves as he made he way to the noise from minutes earlier, hoping whoever it was was far gone

“Oh my god”

Of course they weren’t though, of course whoever this was decided to stupidly wander onto private property, clearly posted in writing on multiple trees and wire fences

Although Jason hesitated when he heard something he’d never had the pleasure of catching

“You poor thing, here I am breaking the law because of you”

Peeking from behind the thick trunk of a large oak, Jason was surprised to see a stranger kneeling in the dirt, fingers and palms cut up with minor wounds as they attempted to unwind a helpless rabbit that seemed to have gotten itself rolled in loose barbed wire

Not minding to worry about yourself, you winced as another barb caught your finger, slicing the thin flesh there as the rabbit was freed, trotting away without a care in the world

“Okay, now which way did I come in from?”

You wondered aloud, turning on your heel to go back the direction you think you came from, hoping in get back on the hiking trail you’d left behind

Jason merely watched with confusion, no malice or really any thought behind his eyes other than the urge to, protect you, from what he wasn’t sure

But he knew for certain, you weren’t someone he’d be able to forget

Thomas Hewitt

Let’s get one thing straight, Thomas doesn’t enjoy killing, him and his family was forced into it by Hoyt and his insatiable urge to feed and “care” for everyone

Most victims were easy to kill, treating him like a monster, screaming in his face curses and insults as they went out

Others he had a harder time with, the ones that just cry, plead with him for their life, promise they won’t tell the police if he lets them go

That being said, he’s never failed to kill, not once since he’s begun

That is until one summer day, when a knock at the door caught Luda Mae by surprise, wiping her wet hands on a dish towel and headed to the front door

Eyes narrowed, the older woman opened the door to reveal a young adult, you, standing there with a shy smile gracing your features, you held a pair of car keys in one hand, the other free to reach up and rub nervously at the back of your neck

“I’m sorry to bother you and, whoever else is home, but my car broke down a mile out, and I’m unable to reach anyone on my cell”

Luda Maes confusion turned to soft pity, a reserved grin taking over her lips as she moved to the left, a hand beckoning you in

“Well dear, there’s a phone in the kitchen, if you’d like I can call the towns auto shop while you wait in the living room”

Although still shaken from being practically dropped in the middle of nowhere Texas, you made your way graciously inside, thanking the woman with kind praise as you did so

Taking a seat on one of the two sofas available, your ankles crossed as you stared down at one of the keychains dangling from your car keys

You could hear the woman in the kitchen shuffling around, although you weren’t sure if you could hear anyone speaking to anyone on the phone

Curious, you slowly stood, palms sweaty as you now took a few steps from the living room, now able to hear Luda Mae speaking on the low to someone, then the sound of a corded phone clicking into its place on the wall

Heart slowing as you realized you were just being paranoid, you quickly turned on your heel to find your way back to the couch, although your trip was cut short by your feet crossing over one another, about to fall on your face when a two large hands steadied your shoulder

Gazing up, your breath caught in your throat at the absolute behemoth of a man now standing before you, a leather mask covering the bottom half of his face, thick brows furrowing as you simply continued to stare with wonder up at him

“Thank you”

Was all you could manage, voice catching as you realized your body was practically pressed up against his

“There you are dear, oh look I see you’ve met my youngest boy Tommy”

Luda Mae spoke as she entered the room, knowing look on her face as she coyly added fuel to the current fire

Pulling yourself up right and out of Thomas’ grasp, your hot face was focused on the older woman in hopes the man wouldn’t notice your sudden fluster

“Unfortunately our only truck is out with my other son, so I was thinking my boy here could be so kind as to walk you to the auto shop, you’ll be safe with him, promise”

You didn’t notice the way Thomas’ eyes followed you, too focused on thinking about being alone with a man as attractive as the one quietly standing beside you

“You’re not worried are you?”

Luda seemed to test you, but it went right over your head as you shook your head no

“He seems very reliable”

You smiled up at Thomas, unable to catch the skip in his chest as you did so

Luda Mae could only grin at the sight, ready to call up Hoyt and tell him to leave this stranger alone, as she could see a future blooming before her eyes

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent wasn’t one to leave his studio unless absolutely necessary, and even in those cases he didn’t, it wasn’t pleasant for the man

Until Bo brought home a guest, someone shaking and blindfolded as he manhandled the poor soul, although the stranger wasn’t screaming nor fighting, it was as if they’d completely given up, or knew it wouldn’t help

Vincent watched silently as his brother forced you to the ground, your knees surely hurting as they made contact with the hard, concrete floor

“Do you know what happens to people that wander where they don’t belong?”

Bo questioned menacingly, although he had a playful glint in his eye Vincent had never seen before

Silently creeping up behind his twin, the long haired man narrowed his eyes as he scanned what he could see in the dim, candle lit room of your face

The obvious old, dried tears that had found their way down your cheeks were still shining, creating lines over your soft skin

You looked to be carved of marble, painted with delicate strokes and framed with care, you were a work of art, and he hadn’t even seen your eyes yet

Placing a deft hand on Bo’s shoulder, the two exchanged looks, the shorter haired twin groaning in annoyance, although that look from before was still in his eye

Right as he was turning to take his leave, he leaned closer to Vincent, whispering to him as he passed

“I took one glance and knew you’d like them, guess I was right”

Then he was gone, foot steps disappearing as he left up the basement stairway

Vincent cautiously walked closer to you, noticing how you flinched back a bit when he made a move to pull your blindfold up, doing it slowly as to not startle you

Your watery eyes fell on his masked face, brows furrowing slightly as you glanced around the room

Vincent’s mouth soured at the idea that you were looking for Bo, of course you would be, what new comer in town wasn’t, until

“Is that man from before gone?”

You’d whispered, and if your sweet voice didn’t send Vincent into a flutter of strange emotions, your next words at the nod of, “yes”, Vincent gave you did

“Good, he scares me”

He merely nodded, unsure of how to act

“Is he going to come back?”

Vincent shrugged

Your shifted so you were sitting, wincing at the ache in your legs, eyes nervous but no longer afraid, you looked to the silent man before you

“Will you, stay here if he comes back?”

Vincent had never been so quick to nod a, “yes”

Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, but I’m back now! I’m working on what is currently in my requests but feel free to send in more!

^ me returning after being inactive for 6 months

#slasher #thomas hewitt #vincent sinclair #michael myers #slasher x reader #jason voorhees #slashers x reader insert #slashers x gn reader #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt fanfic #thomas hewitt x reader #jason voorhees x reader #Jason Voorhees fanfic #michael myers x reader #Michael Myers fanfic #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair fanfic

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mahgyu · 11 months ago

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JJK Men: Dreaming about you after your death

· — Even months later after your tragic death by a cursed spirit, they still dream of that terrible day.

๑ Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro and Ryomen Sukuna.

๑ Content: Fem!Reader, established relationship, angst, A LOT of angst (*evil laugh*), mention of panic crisis (Choso)

๑ a/n: I enjoyed writing this so much, even though it was really sad. Ah, unlike the others, Sukuna didn't have a dream but rather flashbacks, you will understand when you read.

⸺ㅤGOJO

Gojo woke up startled, trying to grasp something that was no longer there. He barely noticed he was already crying when he woke up, the eyes you used to love and appreciate were now crying for your absence. That man who once laughed and smiled genuinely by your side had once again lost the reason to laugh and smile truly. Gojo sincerely couldn't bear to maintain that facade of a strong sorcerer, physically and mentally. He was tired, he was alone. He promised, he promised to protect you, but he failed. Now he promises that, one day, he will find you again, but for now he would just embrace the clothes you used to wear to feel your scent while he cries. Unfortunately, those clothes were already losing your scent.

⸺ㅤGETO

Geto absolutely refused to accept what had happened. He convinced himself that you would suddenly walk through the door with that smile he loves so much. He would wait however long it took for that to happen, but deep down, he knew it would never come true. That's why Geto woke up already staring directly at the door. In the dream, you walked through that door smiling, just as he had been imagining lately. It seemed so real that he could swear he smelled your scent. But the scent didn't actually come from you; it came from the stuffed animal you cherished, which Geto now slept beside every night to catch a glimpse of you being with him.

⸺ㅤNANAMI

Nanami had just returned from work. Sitting on the couch, he ended up dozing off and had that same repetitive dream about you. The day he proposed to you was certainly one of the most memorable days in Nanami's life. But that dream always ends with that cursed spirit sneaking up from behind and dragging you away from Nanami. Kento always screams and tries to run towards you, but for some reason, he never moves from his spot. Nanami opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before sighing. He glanced down at his own hand, where he still wore the engagement ring on his finger. He wouldn't dare take it off for anything, even though you're no longer physically there with him, even if the image of you looking beautiful in a white dress is now nothing more than a dream never realized.

⸺ㅤCHOSO

Choso woke up totally bewildered, panting, and in a panic. He sat on the bed while looking around, processing where he was and searching for you, but found nothing, nothing but a photo of you next to the bed. Choso couldn't take it anymore, couldn't bear to have so many panic attacks for not being able to save you that day, he wasn't there to protect you as he had promised. He failed you, and it tore him apart. He hated having to deal with these daily crises; Choso knew it was exhausting to help him in these moments, he hated worrying others. But the moment he promised to avenge you, he would fulfill it, even if it cost him his own life.

⸺ㅤTOJI

Toji woke up slowly, taking a moment to fully open his eyes due to the brightness and gradually realizing that everything he had witnessed was just a dream. In this dream, he saw you humming softly a song he already knew entirely because of you, but before he could touch you, he woke up. Toji realized he wasn't in the place he used to call home, it wasn't a home without you. He was in another one of the places he rented to spend the night. Going back to that house no longer made sense without you to welcome him with your sweet kisses and bright smile. Toji completely lost his way, delving back into the bad paths you fought so hard to steer him away from, but you were no longer there to stop him. He no longer cared about himself.

⸺ㅤSUKUNA

Sukuna closed his eyes for a few minutes when he had the vision of your face in your last moments of life, the life he himself made a point of taking, just as he had promised from the moment he first found you. For some reason, the image of your face wouldn't leave his mind anymore, and he hated it. He hated how you looked at him so tired and exhausted from everything, just accepting what was to come, how you seemed so vulnerable and fragile. No, that wasn't right. Sukuna opened his eyes as he clenched his fists, digging his nails into the palm of his hand, while frustration flowed from within him. He should have been satisfied for having fulfilled what he promised, but no, he was dissatisfied, frustrated, and didn't know if it was because you didn't even try to fight him and just accepted your end, or if it was because he had really ended you. It made no sense to him, but still, it ate away at him.

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked my first work here 🩶

ㅤㅤㅤ

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thewisecheerio · 5 months ago

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Elden Ring and Disability

Elden Ring is filled with disabled characters. What I love about the specific way that Elden Ring uses disability, though, is that there is almost always a lore-compliant accommodation provided to the disabled character. This world filled with magic doesn't erase disability, but rather finds magical and lore-compliant ways of accommodating it, much like Star Trek:

Here is some of the disability representation within Elden Ring.

First Generation Albinaurics

First generation albinaurics are synthetic humanoids. Their legs do not function normally, so they are unable to locomote by walking. In the worst cases where no accommodations are provided, we see them crawling to move. But we get two really cool examples of ways to accommodate this disability:

First, we have Latenna the Albinauric. Normally when you summon her as a spirit ash, she functions as a static archer due to the state of her legs. However, if you summon her near a wolf, she will climb onto the wolf and ride it around to avoid enemy attacks and even gains a new attack (freezing mist) with the help of her ride. This puts the onus on you, the player, to make sure that you summon her under accommodating circumstances if you want her to be able to move. And of course, you could also choose not to, accepting her disabled self as-is as a perfectly great battle companion.

You can see a video of the wolf companion in action here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=st6vGIpsHLs

Second, we have Commander Gaius. Gaius is also a first generation albinauric with non-functional legs. But you'd almost never know without reading his lore or looking closely at his model, because is accommodated. He rides his Battle Tank Boar into your fight and has absolutely no problem wiping the floor with your sorry ass.

In both cases, a support animal functioning as a mobility aid allows the first generation albinaurics to locomote.

Malenia, Blade of Miquella

Malenia is missing some limbs due to the Scarlet Rot infection she was cursed with at birth rotting. She is also blind due to the sickness taking her sight. However, Malenia is still able to fight you (and win and win and win and win and...). There are two accommodations at play, the first of which is canon and the second of which is a canon-compliant fanon.

The first is the prosthetics made by the Shaded Castle. Malenia's iconic blade is physically attached to her arm prosthetic, allowing her to wield it in battle regardless of the lack of (natural) limb.

Fun fact: this is based on a real, historical practice with armor where old armor was recycled into prosthetics! There was even a mercenary famed for using a prosthetic limb to hold his sword after an accident that damaged his arm. You can learn more here (timestamp 16:58): https://youtu.be/PJwNjOvn-Ow?t=1018

The second accommodation that allows Malenia to be battle-functional is the water in her battleground. Because she is blind, she can listen for the player character's movement in the water, responding in a Daredevil-esque way. This is probably helped by the fact that her blade instructor--the blind swordsman named in the Blue Dancer Charm--was also blind and likely taught her how to accommodate that disability.

Millicent

Like her mother Malenia, Millicent is also afflicted by the Scarlet Rot. We find her alone and largely non-functional in the Church of the Plague at the beginning of her questline, writhing in pain. We then bring her the Unalloyed Needle, which keeps the Scarlet Rot at bay, relieving pain and allowing her to travel once more. Toward the end of her questline, Millicent removes the needle, which brings the Rot back in full force and ends her life.

In this way, the Unalloyed Needle functions as a treatment regimen for a chronic illness. It does not cure her, but it keeps the illness in check well enough for her to function.

The fact that Millicent chooses to remove the needle at the end of her quest is Important! Disabled people aren't under any obligation to "meet their potential" or continue treatment because it is convenient for others; if they wish to stop their treatment—even to accept palliative care—that is their right. Anything less disrespects their bodily autonomy and choice to make their own decisions. The fact that we get this representation in Millicent, who actively chooses against continuing her treatment after a certain point, is Good and Important.

And of course, we also provide Millicent with a prosthetic from the Shaded Castle, same as her mother. Once properly accommodated in this way, she can fight by your side as an NPC summon.

Messmer the Impaler

A lot of people speculate that Messmer is blind. This is because his left eye is (as far as we know) permanently shut, while his right eye appears to be a grace-filled synthetic seal rather than an eyeball. It's entirely possible that the grace seal does allow vision, but there are a couple of reasons to consider why it might not:

1) When we first arrive, Messmer is sitting in the dark. You could interpret this as being a Sad, Broody, Wet Blanket (which he is), or you could interpret this as evidence that things like light and dark are of less consequence to him than to a sighted person. Or, you know, both. A Sad, Broody, Blind, Wet Blanket.

2) Shortly after he lights candles--probably for your benefit--he sends one of his snakes into your face. He is able to tell from what the snake sees that you are Tarnished and comments on it. We can tell this means he can see what the snake sees, because he would have to figure this out from looking at your eyes and only the snake is close enough to do so.

This suggests that the snakes function as a remote viewing aid, providing a sight accommodation. And yes, again you could choose to interpret the snakes as existing in addition to a sighted right eye, but it is still interesting to consider what they mean if they are simply Support Noodles.

Ranni and Melina

There is a syndrome in our world called Locked-In Syndrome, in which paralysis prevents the entire body from moving with (usually) the sole exception of the eyes. As a consequence, the disabled person is unable to affect the physical world without help due to an inability to physically interact with the world around them.

Ranni and Melina have a similar situation going on, but with different ways of dealing with it. They are both disembodied spirits, having lost their physical bodies.

Ranni chooses to deal with the problem by incarnating herself into a doll's body at least twice: once as the doll's body we spend most of her quest interacting with, and later as a tiny actual-doll-sized doll that the player can interact with. Essentially, she has given herself a prosthetic that allows her to interact with the physical world once more.

Meanwhile, Melina goes a different route. Rather than incarnate physically, Melina requests that the player character help her reach her goal--the foot of the Erdtree, and then the Forge. In this case, we provide the physical support necessary for Melina to interact with the world, much as support workers do for those unable to care for themselves.

Goldmask

Goldmask never speaks to us in words. Rather, he communicates largely via physical movements. Brother Corhyn, a pupil of Goldmask, refers to his master's communication as "the movement of his finger". When Goldmask stops his movements, Corhyn reacts with distress, "I'm a little shaken since the master ceased his movements." He then proceeds to translate what the movements meant up to that point for us.

The fact that Corhyn is distressed at the master's lack of further communication after his movements cease suggests that this is his *only* mode of communication with him.

This is entirely a canon-compliant headcanon, but I like to believe that this means Goldmask uses sign language that Corhyn is learning to interpret in order to communicate with him. Additionally, the fact that we cannot necessarily interpret it ourselves and must rely on Corhyn to translate means that Corhyn is also acting as a support worker by being Goldmask's translator.

And yes, I think this is largely to poke fun at the Gesture system in the game, but it's also fun disability representation!

This list isn't exhaustive. There are yet other characters that either are disabled or could be easily argued to be so, like Roderika (grief and/or PTSD, given a space to heal and process), Rennala (depression and/or grief, NOT accommodated AFAICT), and Hyetta (blind, accommodated with...uh..."treatments"). But the fact that this post is already over 1400 words and has yet to touch upon all of the disability representation in the game just shows you how much there is.

#elden ring #elden ring dlc #shadow of the erdtree #shadow of the erdtree spoilers #latenna the albinauric #commander gaius #malenia blade of miquella #millicent #messmer the impaler #ranni the witch #melina #goldmask #soulsborne #fromsoftware #disability #disability accommodations

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vrstual · 2 months ago

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# synopsis: Kim Y/n was "forced" by her parents to intend a school trip so she could make new friends. Being alone, she was obliged to sit next to Yu Jimin, one of the most popular girl in school...

# content: kinda angst, fluff, wlw, cursing. (This is very long...!)

— masterlist !

“Dad, please, I don’t want to go.” Kim Y/n whined, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and anxiety as she stood by the family car.

Her parents were already there, her suitcase in her father hands, the black wheels sinking slightly into the gravel driveway in front of Y/n's school.

“Y/n, we’ve talked about this… this trip is perfect for you to make new friends!” Mr. Kim exclaimed with enthusiasm, his hands animated as he gestured toward the car.

She glanced at the bus, its white exterior, and saw students already in groups, laughing and chatting, ready to have the best time of their lives. They looked so carefree, so sure of themselves, while she was panicking inside. Y/n felt the familiar sting of envy as she watched them, she had always wondered ever since she was a child what was wrong with her for her to be so alone.

“Look at them." She murmured, shaking her head slightly. “I’m never going to fit in.”

Her heart raced as she mentally replayed the last few months: the awkward moments at school, the feeling of being on the outside of friend groups, and the endless worry about not being cool enough or fun enough. What if this trip was just another reminder of how alone she felt?

“And, it’s not like I’m going to magically find friends in a week." Y/n continued, her voice tinged with exasperation.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine." Mr Kim tried to rassure his daughter noticing her gaze drifting towards the bus. “There will be tones of activities that will force you to talk to others! You won't be alone!"

Taking a deep breath, she tore her gaze away from the bus, forcing herself to focus on her parents instead. The looks on their face were full of hopes, she knew that they only wanted to fit in, to be less lonely.

She knew they wanted Y/n to be less like herself in a way, less shy and friendless.

“Fine, I’ll go.” She simply said, her tone firm but lacking enthusiasm, as she took her suitcase back from her father.

“That’s the spirit! And remember, it’s just a week. You can do this.” Mr. Kim smiled broadly, relief flooding his features.

With a deep breath, she hoisted the suitcase up, its worn wheels scraping slightly against the pavement as she moved toward the bus.

Her parents exchanged relieved glances, a silent conversation passing between them. They wanted this to be a good experience for her, to open doors to new friendships and adventures, but she felt trapped in a whirlwind of doubt. As she walked, her mind raced with thoughts of how this trip would unfold.

The chatter from the other students grew louder as they began to board the bus, their voices bubbling with excitement. Y/n’s heart sank as she imagined them effortlessly forming bonds while she struggled to find her place.

She glanced back at her parents one last time before putting her suitcase inside the bus, feeling a swell of mixed emotions. Their encouraging smiles and reassuring nods felt like lifelines, but she also sensed their hopes resting on her shoulders. Y/n wanted to be the first to enter, hoping that by doing so, she could claim a seat without having to force someone to accept her next to them.

With a quick inhale, she stepped up the narrow bus stairs, the metal cold beneath her fingertips as she gripped the handrail. The interior of the bus buzzed with excitement, laughter ringing out from groups of friends already settling into their seats. She felt a pang of longing for that easy camaraderie, but she pushed the thought aside.

As she moved further in, she scanned the rows of seats, searching for a spot where she could sit alone or next to someone that seemed kind.

While the idea of being alone among so many people made her stomach turn, she kept reminding herself that this was an opportunity, chance to break out of her shell, even if she felt like a fish out of water.

“Just find a seat." She muttered to herself, trying to somehow reassure herself.

“Excuse me…?” Mr. Park, her English teacher and one of the chaperones, called out to her, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to remember her name.

He shifted his weight, glancing at the other students boarding the bus before locking eyes with her, the familiar warmth of his smile reassuring yet slightly flustered.

“Y/n. Kim Y/n." replied, her voice steady despite her nerves.

Mr. Park’s smile widened as if he had indeed recalled her name, the familiarity easing the tension in the air.

“Great to see you, Y/n. Have you found a seat?” he asked hopefully, his eyes scanning the bus filled with students.

The anticipation in his voice made her feel a bit more welcomed in the bustling atmosphere. She shook her head, a hint of uncertainty and anxiety rushed back into her mind. Everyone had found a sit and she was the last one without one.

“How about you sit right here, next to Jimin?” He suggested, gesturing to an empty seat beside a girl with bright red hair.

Mr. Park glanced back at Jimin, who immediately turned her attention away from her friends and looked up at the teacher with a frowned.

Oh no, Y/n thought, her heart sinking as she finally registered who Karina was, the blonde popular girl who usually walked past her in the hallway as if she were nothing more than a piece of trash. Y/n recalled the way Jimin and her friends would laugh together, their voices ringing out like a chorus of exclusion while she stood to the side, feeling invisible.

The memories hit her hard: the way Jimin would toss her hair over her shoulder, glancing at Y/n with an expression of disdain as if she was nothing but an obstacle in her path. Y/n could almost hear the whispers of the other girls, the way they snickered and exchanged knowing looks as they passed. Each encounter had left Y/n feeling smaller, a shadow lingering in the background of Karina’s bright, glamorous world.

A wave of anxiety washed over her. She could already feel the weight of judgment pressing down on her, the familiar fear of being belittled creeping in. The last shred of her confidence wavered, and she hesitated for a moment, biting her lip as her thoughts raced.

“Yeah, sit here.” Jimin said dismissively, turning back to chat with her friends seated in the row just in front of her.

They both glanced back at Karina, eager to continue their conversation, leaving Y/n feeling even more isolated. Y/n remembered their names: Ning Yizhuo and Kim Minjeong. She quickly scanned the bus for the fourth member of their group and spotted Aeri Uchinaga sitting next to a boy, laughing animatedly with him. Aeri seemed completely at ease, likely in one of her talking stages.

As she took her seat by the aisle on the bus, she sighed, feeling the annoyance wash over her.

Y/n hated that spot.

The constant bumping from people moving up and down the aisle, the lack of a window to lean against, and the feeling of being just a bit too exposed.

Meanwhile, Jimin's friend obligated to sit properly in their assigned seats, quickly turned away and began chatting amongst themselves, their laughter and animated whispers forming a bubble of friendship that felt just out of reach.

“What’s your name again?” Jimin asked, her gaze fixed on the other girl with a strange intensity.

It wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but it lacked the warmth of genuine curiosity. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she were trying to place the other girl in her mental list of people, but she was too outcast to be in anyway. Y/n felt a bit on edge under her stare, unsure if she was supposed to laugh, answer quickly, or just look away.

“Y/N. Kim Y/N." She replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she kept her eyes down, focusing on her hands as they fidgeted in her lap.

She even didn’t dare look up to meet Jimin's gaze, feeling strangely self-conscious under her scrutiny. The bus hummed around Y/n, filling the silence that followed her response, and she wondered if she’d say anything else or if she’d just keep watching her with that unreadable expression.

As the ride went on, Jimin kept stealing glances at Y/n, trying to gather the courage to speak. Her fingers tapped nervously against her phone, mind racing with thoughts of what to say.

Should I break the silence again? She wondered, shifting slightly in her seat. Every few seconds, she looked over, only to turn away quickly when Y/n’s eyes drifted in her direction.

"Do you know Tyler, The Creator? He released an album a while ago, it's pretty good." Jimin’s voice cut through the silence, almost tentative, but carrying an edge of curiosity.

"Yeah... I know him, his music is great." Y/n blinked, momentarily taken aback by the question, but quickly caught on. "But I haven't listened to the new album." Y/n continued.

Jimin’s earlier annoyance seemed to dissolve, her features softening as she fished out an AirPod and, without a word, held it out to Y/n. Y/n hesitated for a moment, surprised, but then took the AirPod from Jimin’s outstretched hand, her fingers brushing against hers for a split second. Jimin quickly looked down, pretending not to notice, as she scrolled through her phone and tapped the album.

The first notes of the song began to play, the beat filling the silence between them. As each track flowed into the next, they both seemed to relax, caught in the same rhythm, lost in the same lyrics. Jimin didn’t say anything, but every so often, she’d sneak a glance at Y/n.

In the quiet intimacy of shared sound, the world around them faded, and for the first time, the silence felt comfortable like a language only the two of them understood.

—

“So… how was the ride?” Giselle’s voice broke the spell, her tone light and teasing as she appeared behind Jimin, arms crossed and a smirk dancing on her lips.

Jimin startled slightly, pulling out her suitcase as she turned to face Giselle, her eyes meeting the pink haired girl's.

"It was fine." She answered unbothered, earning Giselle to raised an eyebrow.

“‘Just fine?’” Giselle scoffed, hurrying to catch up with Jimin, who had already started to walk away toward class, clearly eager to escape the conversation. “Bro, this girl fell asleep on your shoulder, and you let her! When it’s me, you always pinch me awake the second I drift off.”

Jimin stopped mid-step, rolling her eyes as she turned back to give Giselle an exasperated look.

“Oh, I’m just saying." Giselle continued, leaning in conspiratorially. “The two of you, sharing music, all cozy and quiet… It’s cute.”

“Fuck off, Gi. Stop trying to ‘gay-ize’ me I have a boyfriend." Jimin shot back, her expression firm, as she folded her arms across her chest, clearly hoping to put an end to Giselle’s teasing.

"I am not 'gay-izing' you, you're already bi!" Giselle scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Still have a boyfriend, and she’s super nerdy. We have nothing in common, she's the kind of people we walk on." Jimin muttered under her breath, giving Giselle a pointed look.

Giselle just smirked, unfazed, but Jimin wasn’t paying her any more attention. Her gaze had drifted back to Y/n, who was standing alone a few feet away, glancing anxiously at the crowd of students. She looked a little out of place, fiddling with her bag strap as if it might anchor her, a hand holding tightly her white suitcase.

Without realizing it, Jimin’s expression softened. It felt weird, she almost felt bad for the girl. Giselle raised an eyebrow again, noticing where Jimin’s attention had landed again.

"What is her name again?" Giselle only smiled before talking.

“Y/n or something, why?” Jimin asked, turning her head back toward Giselle, who was already striding toward Y/n with an air of confidence.

“Hey, Y/n!” Giselle called out, her tone friendly and casual. “What are you doing standing here all by yourself? We’re just about to head to the reception to get our rooms.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, and she took a step forward, her instinct to intervene kicking in.

“Giselle, wait! I don’t think—” The blonde tried to stop, but Giselle has already gotten Y/n 's attention.

Y/n felt a surge of nervousness coursing through her veins. Although she had grown a bit comfortable around Jimin over the ride, that didn’t mean she was ready for an actual conversation with her, especially not in the presence of one of her best friends.

She could feel her heart racing, her palms becoming clammy as she thought about how she might stumble over her words. The cold air of winter felt stifling, and she played with her fingers, trying to focus on the comforting sound of footsteps on snow that other around were making.

Scared, she felt beyond scared.

It had to be some kind of cruel joke for them to actually be interested in her, how could anyone be genuinely drawn to someone as invisible as Y/n?

She often felt like a shadow, blending into the background while others shone in the spotlight. The idea that someone could see her, really see her, felt utterly surreal. Was it possible they were just playing a game, testing the limits of her self-doubt? The thought made her stomach twist in knots, a mix of disbelief and a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as invisible as she believed.

But no, Giselle and Jimin couldn't actually be interested in getting to know Y/n.

She pushed her thoughts aside and smiled nervously, though her nose burned from the biting winter air. And she wished she had remembered to pull her scarf out of her suitcase before leaving. The cold wrapped around her like a relentless chill, and she rubbed her hands together, trying to summon warmth.

“Do you have roommates, or are you alone?” Giselle asked politely, her genuine smile lighting up her face.

She leaned slightly closer, her curious eyes sparkling with interest. Y/n could sense Giselle’s friendliness, which made her feel a little less out of place. But it was weird, considering how Giselle could look from outside, how scary she could get by just smiling at you in the hallway.

Or maybe it was just Y/n, maybe she just portrayed them as bad person because she was scared.

“Obviously, she’s alone. She had no choice but to sit next to me for the ride,” Jimin explained coldly, her gaze fixed on Y/n.

There was no warmth in her voice, just a hint of annoyance that made Y/n’s stomach churn. The embarrassment washed over her, and she wondered if Jimin saw her as a burden. The winter air felt even colder now, and Y/n shifted uncomfortably, feeling more isolated in the moment.

Giselle frowned at Jimin before gently nudging her shoulder, Jimin merely scoffed as she crossed her arms. The blonde girl leaned back against the but slightly her expression remaining indifferent. The contrast between Giselle’s warm smile and Jimin’s cool demeanor was striking, and Y/n couldn’t help but feel caught in the middle.

“Don’t mind her, she’s always that straightforward." Giselle chuckled, waving a hand dismissively in Jimin’s direction. “I already have a roommate, but Jimin doesn’t. How about you two share a room?”

"You have a roommate? You haven't told me." Jimin’s eyes widened at Giselle’s statement, surprise flickering across her face.

Meanwhile, Y/n stayed frozen, unsure of how to respond. The suggestion sent a rush of apprehension through her, but it was quickly overshadowed by her insecurities.

Would Jimin even want to share a room with her? The thought made her heart race.

Jimin’s cold demeanor lingered in the back of her mind, leaving Y/n feeling vulnerable as she awaited Jimin’s response. The blonde girl simply got closer to Y/n before she opened her mouth.

"Looks like you're stuck with me, Y/n."

—

The trip was almost over, they should go by the next morning and ever since the first day Giselle had been relentless in her invitations for Y/n to join her and the others. Y/n finally met Minjeong and Yizhuo, who were just as sweet as Giselle but somehow different.

The girls and Y/n were seated in a cozy café, the warm ambiance wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. They sipped on steaming mugs of hot chocolate, topped with fluffy whipped cream, while the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air.

“Hey, baby.” Y/n heard a voice behind her, and as the other girls turned around, she caught sight of Heeseung, Jimin’s boyfriend.

Y/n felt a flutter of nerves as he approached, his presence radiating confidence. The way he interacted with the girls made her feel a bit out of place; he greeted them with playful hugs and friendly nudges, instantly putting everyone at ease. Jimin, who had been sitting with her arms crossed, softened at the sight of him, a small smile breaking through her earlier aloofness.

For a moment, Y/n wished she smiled at her like that.

“Are you ready for some fun?” Heeseung asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Tonight, you're all invited to a party with my friends and I. We met some dudes and they said to bring anyone we knew." He said as he smiled at Y/n.

For the very first time, she had been invited somewhere, and a genuine smile spread across her face while her eyes were stuck into Heeseung's. She turned her attention to Jimin, but when she glanced at her, she noticed that Jimin’s eyes were icy.

It was different, a stark contrast to how they had been in the days before. The warmth that usually radiated from Jimin seemed to have faded, replaced by an expression that suggested she was deep in thought or perhaps even a bit annoyed.

The atmosphere shifted, becoming more lively as the girls laughed and exchanged eager glances. Expected for Y/n and Jimin who seemed to have a eye battle from how Jimin was staring into her soul.

Perhaps Jimin was jealous of Y/n, but it felt impossible to her. After all, Y/n was nothing compared to Jimin. She couldn’t understand why Jimin would feel that way; surely, she must have been misinterpreting Jimin’s icy demeanor.

Y/n wondered if Jimin thought she had some sort of ulterior motive regarding Heeseung, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Yet, as she caught Jimin’s cold gaze, Y/n felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. It was frustrating to think that her mere presence could be misread as a threat.

Trying to shake off the uneasy feeling, Y/n focused on the laughter and conversation swirling around her. She reminded herself that she was here to have fun with friends and enjoy this moment, regardless of the tension that lingered between her and Jimin. Still, a part of her longed for Jimin to see her as a friend rather than a rival.

A friend? Was Jimin a friend to Y/n?

The pink-haired girl shot Jimin a glare, clearly frustrated by her cold demeanor. Meanwhile, the blonde girl simply shook her head as she gestured for her boyfriend to sit next to her. Heeseung, ever cheerful, took the invitation and settled into the seat beside her, leaving Jimin positioned awkwardly between Y/n and him.

The atmosphere around them shifted slightly, the laughter of the other girls rising and falling like a wave, but Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that the dynamic had changed. She glanced at Jimin, hoping for a hint of the warmth they had shared earlier, but all she found was that icy gaze still directed toward her, making her wonder if the day would turn out the way she had hoped.

“Oh my god, we should head back before Mr. Park kills us. We have this shitty chocolate factory to visit." Yizhuo declared, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and mock horror.

The mention of the chocolate factory elicited a chorus of groans and laughter from the group, breaking the tension that had settled around the table.As everyone began to gather their things and rise from their seats the girls chatted animatedly as they made their way to the exit, Y/n falling into step beside Heeseung.

“What’s so bad about a chocolate factory?” He asked with a teasing grin, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

Y/n shrugged, feeling a little more at ease.

“It sounds like a lot of fun! I mean, who doesn’t like chocolate?” She replied, hoping to keep the mood light.

Deep inside she was clearly panicking, it was the very first time she ever spoke to this man.

“Hey, how come I’ve never seen you around? I’m Lee Heeseung." He said with a smile, extending his hand toward Y/n for her to shake.

Y/n hesitated for just a moment, caught off guard by his directness, but then she reached out and shook his hand, feeling the strength of his grip.

"I'm Kim Y/n." She answered as their hands touched.

With the cold air hitting them as they stepped outside, the group bundled up, ready for the adventure ahead. Even with the lingering tension, Y/n felt a flicker of hope that the day would turn out better than expected.

They finally reached their teacher, who was waiting near the entrance of the hotel they stayed in, and Y/n could feel a slight shift in the atmosphere. Jimin, walking a step ahead, seemed to purposefully ignore her, her focus solely on their teacher as if Y/n didn’t exist.

Y/n’s heart sank once again at the sight.

Feeling a mix of disappointment and frustration, Y/n forced herself to concentrate on the teacher’s words. The factory was going to be an interesting experience, and she didn’t want to let Jimin’s attitude ruin it for her. With Heeseung still beside her, she tried to push her concerns aside as they walked together toward the chocolate factory.

She could hear the laughter of the other girls ahead, but Jimin was the one she looked at.

—

“Jimin, can we talk?” Y/n asked hesitantly as they both entered their room.

The door closed behind them as Jimin turned to face Y/n, her expression unreadable.

“About what?” Jimin replied coolly, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall.

“I just… I wanted to clear the air,” Y/n said, her voice steadying as she spoke. “You've been acting distant since the café and I don't really understand, is something wrong with me?"

That was such pick me of you, Y/n! She slapped for herself mentally.

Jimin’s gaze softened just a fraction, but her expression remained guarded.

"There's nothing wrong with you. I'm just tired." Jimin replied as she turned to face Y/n completely.

"You're not lying to me?" Y/n took a step closer, trying to bridge the gap.

Jimin paused, her defenses wavering for a moment as she contemplated Y/n’s words. The silence hung in the air, and Y/n held her breath, hoping that Jimin wasn't mad at her.

“I am not lying to you. Just prepare yourself while I'm doing my makeup here; we’re going out in an hour, Heeseung and his friends had invited us, remember?" Jimin stated matter-of-factly, her tone leaving little room for argument.

Y/n nodded as she smiled at the taller girl before heading toward the bathroom. Jimin paused for a moment, glancing over her shoulder.

After a moment of silence, Y/n finally stepped out, and Jimin felt something flutter in her chest at the sight of her. Y/n looked stunning, her outfit perfectly complementing her features and giving off an effortless charm. The soft light from the room illuminated her, making her look warm and inviting, and for a moment, Jimin was taken aback by how pretty she looked.

Jimin’s heart raced unexpectedly, the icy facade she had been maintaining beginning to crack.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jimin said as she turned sharply toward the door, a hint of fluster creeping into her cheeks as she avoided making eye contact with Y/n.

Y/n followed closely behind, sensing the sudden shift in Jimin’s demeanor. As they walked past the other girls, who were laughing and chatting, Y/n felt a knot of confusion twist in her stomach.

"Are you okay?" Y/n frowned, trying to understand what had caused this sudden chill.

“I’m fine." Jimin snapped, perhaps a bit too sharply. Her voice was firm, but Y/n could see the slight tremor in her hands as she adjusted her jacket, a telltale sign of her inner turmoil.

“You sure? You seem… different." She ventured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin shot her a glance, her eyes filled with an undercurrent of something deeper, something that hinted at her own frustration.

“I said I’m fine." She repeated, crossing her arms defensively.

Giselle, who had been chatting with the other girls, noticed the scene unfolding between Y/n and Jimin. Her brow furrowed in concern as she watched the tension between them, trying to understand what was going on. Y/n shrugged in response, her shoulders rising helplessly.

Y/n glanced back at Jimin, who was now looking away, her expression stubbornly set.

After a moment they walked on, Y/n felt a growing sense of frustration mingling with her confusion. She had hoped the night would be a chance to strengthen their bond, but instead, it felt like they were drifting further apart.

It was weird, she never had friends and here she was getting all frustrated around of the most popular girl in school.

It felt weird.

It felt even weirder because as soon as they entered the party, Heeseung began shamelessly flirting with Y/n. The vibrant atmosphere of the place was filled with laughter and music, but all Y/n could focus on was Jimin's eyes as Heeseung pulled his easy charm and he leaned in close to her.

"You look great!" He flashed Y/n a dazzling smile as he yelled over the music into her ear.

Jimin’s expression darkened slightly as she stood back, arms crossed, watching the exchange with a glimmer of anger and irritation.

“Thanks, I guess!” Y/n replied over the music, trying to keep her voice light despite the discomfort settling in her stomach.

She glanced at Jimin, she tried to reach for her hand, her arm, anything. Y/n wasn't sure why, but she needed to feel like Jimin was still beside her, still with her. But instead she was met by two dark obs glaring at Heeseung.

As Heeseung leaned closer, his playful teasing and charm only served to heighten Jimin’s apparent anger as she pulled Y/n away from him.

“Heeseung, what the hell?” Jimin snapped at him, her voice cutting through the loud music.

The sudden outburst drew the attention of the girls and Heeseung's friends, and Y/n felt her heart race at the unexpected tension that had just escalated.

Heeseung looked taken aback, his playful demeanor faltering for a moment as he straightened up, clearly surprised by Jimin’s sharp tone.

"What? I was just—” He began, but Jimin interrupted him.

“Just what?” she shot back, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Y/n hated, she hated how Jimin hands were tightly grabbing onto hers in anger because she knew Jimin wasn't holding it in a act of softness. Perhaps she was reaching for comfort as she yelled at her boyfriend.

“I was just trying to make Y/n feel welcome!" Heeseung replied, his voice tinged with confusion, but Jimin didn’t soften.

“Jimin, it’s fine." Y/n interjected, hoping to ease the mounting tension. “Heeseung was just being friendly.”

Jimin glanced at her, and for a brief moment, her icy facade seemed to crack as she saw Y/n’s genuine attempt to defuse the situation. Y/n took a deep breath, feeling caught between them.

It was the very first time this kind of situation ever happened to her, and she wasn't a fan of it at all.

"Let’s just enjoy the night, okay?” One of Heeseung's friend suggested, trying to shift the focus back to the fun atmosphere around them.

Jimin shook her head in frustration, her blonde long hair swaying gently as she turned away from the bustling party. The vibrant music pulsed through the air, laughter and chatter blending into a lively backdrop, but she felt out of place. Y/n and Giselle exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of concern and understanding, before quickening their pace to catch up with her.

“Hey, wait up!” Y/n called, her voice barely rising above the noise, trying to reach for Jimin's hand again.

Jimin spun around, her face flushed with anger, and without thinking, she pushed Y/n away, the force of the shove surprising both of them. Y/n stumbled back, her eyes widening in shock. The lively atmosphere of the party faded into the background, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room.

“Fuck you! You've been nothing but a pain in the ass ever since you came into our lives!" She snapped pointing her finger towards Y/n.

“W-what? I was just trying to be friends with you guys, I didn't meant to make you feel that way..?” Y/n glanced at Giselle, who stood nearby, her expression a mix of concern and confusion.

“What? You thought we were friends with you? You're just some nerdy fucker who keeps following us around!” Jimin shot back, her heart racing.

"Jimin!" Giselle moved closer, trying to mediate the escalating tension.

Y/n heart stopped for a moment, it felt weird to have friends. It felt weird because they weren't her friends, they didn't cared about her, at all.

It felt weird to feel appreciated for once.

Y/n couldn’t stop the tears from falling, hot and unrelenting, tracing down her cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath. Each drop felt like a shard of glass, piercing through the layers of her heart. She turned away, unable to face Jimin, the weight of the moment suffocating her. The laughter and music from the party faded into a distant hum, leaving only the raw pain of their confrontation.

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock as she saw the tears streaming down Y/n’s face. The realization hit her like a wave, washing away the anger that had fueled her words. Regret flooded her heart, each pang a reminder of how easily things had spiraled out of control.

"Y/n- I didn't meant to say that-!" But Y/n held up a hand, shaking her head as she struggled to compose herself.

"Y/n, I swear this isn't true we wanted to be friends with you!" Giselle stepped in, her heart aching for both of her friends.

For a moment, Y/n looked torn, the tears still flowing freely as she searched Jimin’s gaze for sincerity. Jimin’s heart raced, praying for forgiveness, hoping that they could find their way back from this painful moment.

"Please, just let me explain,” Jimin continued, her voice trembling but earnest. “I never wanted to hurt you like that I-"

“Drop the act, I get it,” Y/n said coldly, her voice barely above a whisper as she turned away from Jimin, her heart heavy with hurt and disbelief.

She began to walk away and Jimin stood frozen, a surge of desperation welling up inside her.

"No, wait!" She tried to call after her but Y/n stepped out into the dimly lit street, snowflakes began to fall, delicate and silent, blanketing the ground in a soft, white layer.

Jimin watched in anguish as Y/n’s figure slowly disappeared into the darkness, the soft glow of streetlamps illuminating her retreating silhouette. Snow began to accumulate on the ground, each flake a reminder of the fragile state of their friendship. Jimin’s heart raced with regret, the words unspoken hanging heavily in the air between them.

“Y/n, please don’t go!” she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion.

But Y/n didn’t stop; she continued walking, leaving Jimin standing alone in the stillness of the night, surrounded by the falling snow.

"Now, what the fuck, Jimin?" Giselle looked at her disappointed as she started running after Y/n.

It felt weird, weird to feel her heart pounding like that for a nerd.

—

Y/n stepped off the bus as soon as the doors opened, her heart pounding in her chest. She had spent the entire ride next to Giselle, carefully keeping her distance from Jimin, who sat several seats ahead, surrounded by a small group of friends.

The air in the bus had felt thick and suffocating, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension that pressed down on her.

As Y/n stepped out the bus, the cool evening air hit her, refreshing yet stark against the storm of emotions swirling inside her. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind, but all she could think about was the hurt and anger that had driven her away from Jimin.

She wished she could just disappear, to retreat back into the shadows where she felt safe and invisible, like she used to before everything got complicated. The thought of going back to her parents, to the familiarity of home, offered a bittersweet comfort.

She longed for the simplicity of her old life, where there were no confrontations, no emotional turmoil, and certainly no heartache.

Y/n perceived her parents waiting by the car, their expressions a mix of concern and anxiety that tugged at her heart. As she approached, her mother stepped forward, a smile on her face trying to hide her nervousness.

"How was it? Was it great? Have you made new friends?" Her father asked behind her mother.

"Yeah, it was really nice. I made plenty of friends." Y/n nodded, forcing a small smile despite the turmoil inside.

Her parents high fived each other relief rushing over them.

“Let’s get you home! You better tell us everything!” He said, opening the back door of the car and gesturing for her to get in.

As her parents climbed into the front seats, Y/n stared out the window, watching the snowflakes dance against the glass. Each flake seemed to mirror her feelings, delicate yet full of chaos. The streets blurred by in a haze of white, but she couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest.

She met Jimin eyes who was along Heeseung, she seemed desperate for to talk to her. Y/n only turn her look away as her parents drove away.

—

Y/n had been away for the weekend, visiting relatives, and now that she was back home, a familiar sense of loneliness enveloped her. The quiet house felt oddly empty, the silence only broken by the soft hum of the heater. After the whirlwind of emotions from the party and the fallout with Jimin, she found herself craving a distraction, something to pull her away from the heaviness in her heart.

When Giselle texted her, asking if she wanted to hang out, Y/n jumped at the chance. The prospect of spending time with her friend lifted her spirits, offering a welcome escape from her thoughts. “Of course! I’d love to,” she replied quickly, a sense of anticipation stirring within her.

A little while later, the doorbell rang, and Y/n rushed to answer it.

But instead of seeing Giselle standing by the poarch, she was met by Jimin.

"Oh hell no." Y/' said as she was about to close the door but the blonde girl stopped her.

“I’ve driven around the whole town and got stuck in traffic just for you to hear me out." Jimin breathed out, her voice steady but laced with urgency. "Did you knew your house is at the opposite of my place?"

Y/n felt a mix of surprise and apprehension wash over her. The night air was crisp, and the distant sounds of the bustling town seemed to fade away as she focused on Jimin’s intense expression. The weight of their unresolved conflict hung heavy between them, and Y/n wasn’t sure if she was ready to confront it.

“Please, just give me a chance to explain myself.” Jimin urged, stepping closer, her voice softer now but no less earnest. "Actually, I'm terrible with words and usually they got stuck in my throat. But, you're the best nerd I ever had the chance to meet, you made this week so special and it felt like we were meant to cross paths. But I got scared, I got scared because you're something new, this whole world you have on your own, it's so different than mine."

Y/n took a step back, feeling the turmoil within her bubbling to the surface. She wanted to be angry, to hold onto the hurt, but she also felt a flicker of hope at Jimin’s words.

"And I'm so sorry, for letting you thinking we acted in a act of pure of pity but it wasn't. You're not an act of pity, Y/n." Jimin finally finished, you could see her red cheeks and the way she was moving her hands.

She was nervous, and it was the very first time ever you had seen her in this state.

With the air thick with honesty and vulnerability, Y/n knew they were at a turning point, one that could either mend their friendship or push them further apart. But for the first time in days, she felt the possibility of healing.

“Get in, you’re not even wearing a coat! You’re going to catch a cold." Y/n said, her voice laced with concern as she glanced at Jimin standing outside in the frigid air, shivering slightly.

Jimin hesitated for just a moment, her breath visible in the cold night air, swirling around her like a ghost before she stepped closer. A small, grateful smile broke across her face as she opened the car door and slipped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping her like a comforting embrace.

“Thanks." She murmured, tucking her hands under her thighs to warm them.

—

“Okay, but playing Minecraft at your age is really nerdy of you,” Jimin affirmed, her tone playful as she lay sprawled on Y/n’s bed, propped up on her elbows.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of fairy lights creating a cozy atmosphere, and the faint sounds of the game played from Y/n’s laptop resting on her lap.

"But you've been watching me play for an hour now. I think you like nerdy things." Y/n rolled her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips.

"Yeah and that's why I like you, my nerdy bestfriend." Jimin laughed, shaking her head as she watched the other girl's focused expression.

Y/n felt a sting in her heart but she decided to play it cool, still looking at her screen.

“Did I upset you?” Jimin asked, with a soft smile as she watched Y/n’s expression shift.

“No.” Y/n replied, her eyes glistening slightly as she fought to keep her emotions in check.

“Are you sure I didn't upset you by calling you 'my nerdy bestfriend'” Jimin insisted, her tone urgent as she leaned in closer. "Y/n?"

Y/n looked away, staring out the window as the world outside blurred past, lost in thought. Her head filled with a million thoughts.

“You’re not great at hiding your feelings, you know." Jimin remarked with a half-smile, glancing sideways at Y/n.

"What?" Y/n cheeks flushed slightly, and she laughed softly in panick, shaking her head. “What are you talking about?”

Jimin chuckled getting closer to Y/n, her hands touching Y/n cheeks.

“I know you like me.” Jimin teased and Y/n sweared she felt her heart drop in her stomach. "I've tried to talk to you about it, but you're so oblivious it's getting annoying."

"Don't hate me, I swear I don't know how to deal with this kind of things! I didn't meant to feel that way about you, especially since Heeseung and you are getting better–!" She couldn't even finish her rambling, the blonde had already pushed herself onto the younger.

Her lips met Y/n’s, and they felt like sweetsm soft and inviting, like the sugary confections that melted on the tongue. The moment was unexpected yet electrifying, an explosion of warmth that sent a rush of exhilaration through Y/n’s body. It was as if time had slowed, the world around them fading into a distant blur as they surrendered to the sweetness of the kiss.

Y/n was kissing, Yu Jimin. She was kissing someone else girlfriend, but she felt a wave of emotions crashing over her: surprise, joy, and a spark deep within her.

She could taste the remnants of the strawberry lip balm Jimin had worn, a flavor that was both familiar and intoxicating. The kiss lingered, a perfect balance of tenderness and eagerness, as if they were savoring a treasured treat.

"I guess obliviousness goes with the nerd act, doesn't it?" Jimin smiled shyly, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.

“Yeah, it does." Y/n agreed, feeling the heat radiate between them. "But what about Heeseung?"

"I broke up with him a while ago, he had clearly a crush on you, just like I have." Jimin laughed again as she caressed Y/n cheek.

A comfortable silence enveloped them, charged with the weight of what had just happened. In that instant, everything felt different—more vibrant, more alive. They both knew this kiss had shifted their friendship into uncharted territory, opening up a world of possibilities neither had dared to imagine before.

“But most importantly, are we okay?” Jimin asked, her eyes searching for Y/n’s, trying to understand what was going on in her head.

“We’re more than okay." Y/n nodded her head multiple times, making Jimin laugh loudly.

As they sat there, the taste of sweetness still lingering between them, Y/n felt a sense of hope and excitement blossom in her chest. They were on the brink of something new, and she was ready to embrace it.

It felt weird being liked by Yu Jimin.

# AN: it's my very first fic so I am sorry if it seems rushed or if it's not as good as it could've been !

#karina x reader #x reader #aespa #yu jimin x reader #yoo jimin #yu jimin #karina aespa #wlw #heeseung #aespa x reader #kpop #kpop fic #aespa winter #aespa giselle #aespa ningning

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Monster x Reader [Werewolf]

In Romanian mythology, Pricolici is an evil spirit believed to be born after the death of wicked humans, able to transform into certain animals such as ferocious dogs and wolves. The etymology is unknown, although it's suspected to be of Dacian origin, thus going as far back in time as the 1st century BC. An ancient creature has set its predatory eyes on you.

Winner of the Folklore Monster Poll celebrating Romanian history!

TW: obsessive behavior, violence, death

[Horror Masterlist] [More Headcanons]

He can tell it's a dream. Nonetheless, it always feels unbearably real. He can smell the incense, hear the hurried trample of feet underneath him. He wants to open his mouth and demand they stop. No words ever come out, the throat is dry and flattened by heavy despair. It's a dream, after all. The priests march on, and the spears are lifted. For a moment, he's blinded by their powerful, sharp glisten. As he gazes at the sacred circle, it occurs to him just how uncomfortable the shackles are. He becomes somewhat distracted by this irritating friction, so much he doesn't register the instructions given by the mysterious men.

Centuries later, he would stumble upon an old history book by Herodotus that detailed his misfortune:

"The Getae are the bravest of the Thracians and the most just. They believe they are immortal, forever living, in the following sense: they think they do not die and that the one who dies joins Zalmoxis, a divine being. Every four years, they send a messenger to Zalmoxis, who is chosen by chance. They ask him to tell Zalmoxis what they want on that occasion. The mission is performed in the following way: men standing there for that purpose hold three spears; other people take the one who is sent to Zalmoxis by his hands and feet and fling him in the air on the spears. If he dies pierced, they think that the divinity is going to help them; if he does not die, it is he who is accused and they declare that he is a bad person. And, after he has been charged, they send another one. The messenger is told the requests while he is still alive."

The foreign hands tighten around his limbs and he takes a deep breath in, ready for the plunge. Truth be told, he's not too anxious. The first time was terrifying, but one becomes accustomed to death if it repeats itself, night after night as the years pass and millennia settle over it, like a thick blanket of ash and bone and dust. He doesn't remember the pain anymore, only the bitterness. The wrath. He had no business playing God's messenger. He hadn't wished to be choking on his own blood, rippling violently at the corners of his mouth as his eyes dart over the excited masses. There are claps and cheers, and hope, and peace. Just not for him.

No matter, if they long so dearly after eternity, he'll become their very proof. A tangible undead, a creature of eternity. Let them gaze at their ardent desire as it claws their bowels out for the birds to feed on. Let them sing praise before their God as their soft throats detangle under his fangs. Before he knows it, the corpses lay mangled at his feet and he notices his horrid reflection swaying in the puddles of fresh blood.

He has become a beast.

And just like that, the nightmare ends. It always ends here. He pats the sweat off his forehead with the monotonous vigor of habit. It's already noon and the narrow street flocks with curious tourists and natives on their stroll. Every now and then he will venture into the city, just to get a glimpse of the world. He twists the knob and opens a window, enjoying the breeze that cools his skin. His tired eyes wander around with no purpose.

That's when he sees you. Your wide, carefree smile as you converse with your friend. You're drawing circles along the edge of your coffee cup, propped over the table, entranced by your discussion. Your gentle laugh rings unexpectedly loud against his ears. He finds himself frozen in place, unable to contract a single muscle.

"Oh, this trail is supposed to have some really nice sights." Your friend is shuffling through unfolded maps, spread out onto the small café table. "We should leave pretty early though, otherwise it'll get dark before the return."

You groan at the idea. Your friend responds with a chuckle.

"Remember, our tour guide joked about werewolves roaming the outskirts. Do you want to be eaten?" She inquires with a cheeky grin.

"You know I have a thing for monsters." You answer with a wink.

The jokes carry on until the bill arrives, and you eventually stand up and merrily make your way down the street. For a brief moment you feel a cold shiver running down your spine, so you peek back inquisitively. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Ah. By the time his focus returns, the sun is setting, reflecting its crimson rays over the old cobblestone. You've been gone for a while, so he must've been staring into the nothingness for good hours. He clears his throat, mildly embarrassed by his absent-mindedness. He isn't hungry, so he has trouble explaining his sudden captivation with a random human.

Even more bizarre is the consequence of the accidental encounter. The following nights are devoid of the usual torment. Has he ever had a peaceful slumber before? He can't recall. And yet here he is, vacantly eyeing the ceiling without the labored breath or cold shivers, faintly reminiscing about your amused expression. He frowns slightly at the realization that his recollection seems to contain less details compared to yesterday. Your face is smudged by the intense light of the noon, titled at an angle that allows no shadows to discern the features. What will he do when it's entirely gone? A faceless memory, anchored in the depths of his heart as a reminder of what could've been. Is there some universal law that dictates only misery remains unforgotten, or is he just exceptionally unlucky? Infuriating.

The overwhelming sensation creeps upon him again. A primordial vengefulness that hasn't yet released him from its cold, bony fingers. For once, can't he be granted fairness? His jaw clenches and he marches out of the room.

Tonight shall be a feast.

The lights are still on in the little tavern inn, and through the small windows he can make out the lively movement of the people inside. He glances at the waning moon one final time. The world may change, and the years may pass, but one thing has never left him throughout the centuries. Always bearing the same pallid, melancholic countenance, his taciturn companion rises, indifferent to the Universe.

His back arches outwards, the bones tear and twist, the joints dislocate and the skin is giving way to coarse, thick fur. His eyes now carry an amber glow as they rest on the modest building. Without further hesitation, he pounces on the door and it folds like cardboard under his inhuman strength. The room goes quiet and all heads turn to him. He recognizes that look. A fleeting second of fear and curiosity, before true panic settles in. But they rarely have the time to scream. Just as the vocal chords contract and vibrate, their chests are trashed and limbs are tattered. Splattered visceral remains and blood coat the ground under his feral attack.

You squeeze your eyes closed and force your hands over your mouth to ensure your stillness to the massacre. You were just returning from the bathroom when you heard the wails and the wet sounds of mutilated flesh. You'd ducked behind the wall and hid under an end table. What the hell is that creature? You initially thought a wild wolf had somehow made its way into the tavern, but no animal can be this large. There is a backdoor, but on the other side of this hall. You'd have to sprint across the archway that leads into the main room. Then again, if it's this busy ripping the others apart...

No need to ponder your options much. Silence falls behind you, which means the creature must have finished its horrid sport early. His snout picks up a particular scent and he tenses up, expectantly. Could it be?

The wooden parquet tiles creak under the weight of foreign footsteps; a human approaching you. You look up from under the table. Has someone dealt with the beast? Although you immediately regret revealing yourself. You freeze in your spot, hands propped on the ground, like prey awaiting execution.

The man is unnaturally tall, having to crouch under the ceiling, with wild black hair and rough features. His chiseled face is painted red, and his clothing is torn apart and soaked in blood. His large hands end in sharp claws, and amid his ruffled locks you can distinguish animal ears.

There you are.

Well, quite the irony to meet you here of all times and places. From this distance, you look even prettier. He bends over slightly to examine the details that have faded since the first encounter. A surreal experience, really. Seeing you kneel right in front of him and not as a figment of his imagination. He extends his fingers over your face and presses his nails in, leaving a vague trail of swollen, red skin. What a frail being you are.

"Your friend is alive, by the way." His deep, dissonant voice pierces the silence.

"O-oh." You gasp. You were so anxious you barely understood the meaning of his words.

"You may check on her if you so desire, however..."

He considers it. Normally, even after allowing his anger to seep into cadavers and ruins, all he's left with is disgust and emptiness. Yet your presence seems to fill him with unfamiliar comfort. If one is drowning, is it truly selfish to hold onto the first thing that keeps them afloat? The only people who'd condemn such beggar are the ones that have never been underwater. They don't know what it's like to have your lungs tighten and collapse under the heavy pressure, waving your arms towards a surface that's never reached.

"...You'll be coming with me afterwards."

You can only stare.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you." He attempts to simulate a smile. "I suppose I'm not too convincing like this", he jokes as he gestures towards his body, "But you have my word I'll never harm you."

"Why, though?" You manage to stutter, frowning in confusion.

He's taken aback by your inquiry. Perhaps his statement is indeed more threatening than anything else. On the other hand, he hasn't conversed with humans in...longer than he can remember. What might pose as convincing in this case? Drawing out a rose and confessing his undying love among the bodies he murdered feels rather ridiculous. Suddenly, a passage he's once read comes to mind. At the time, it depressed him greatly. Now it feels like the only fitting reasoning.

"Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?"

"Isn't that from Stoker's Dracula? How is it-"

You pause and search his eyes. Golden trenches of loneliness and gloom. Your heart is heavy and your mouth curls into a grimace the longer you stare into these pools swirling with agony.

"I understand." Is all you can mutter as you stand up.

Have you had a choice to begin with? Not even the frothing waves of a storming ocean can come between a dying man and his only raft.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #werewolf x reader #yandere werewolf #female reader #gender neutral reader #yandere horror #horror x reader #yandere oc #romanian folklore #daos

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reyrapidsbutgayer · 1 year ago

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Ranking All Elden Ring Bosses by Fuckability

It was only a matter of time until I made a post like this. (And an equally horrible post featuring the DLC bosses.)

In this hypothetical all of the bosses can be reasonably communicated with and are not actively trying to kill you.

Repeat bosses not included, duo bosses counted seperate.

It should also be assumed that all of these bosses have access to their magic/items/resources to benefit them in bed.

Explanation of Grading system:

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

These characters are not sentient enough to communicate consent, or are physically incapable of sex.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Character sucks so badly that they do not deserve to experience pleasure in any shape or form.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

These character are fully capable of sex but would never participate in sex due to lack of interest or overabundance of moral convictions.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

I mean, you COULD have sex with these characters but why would you?

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

These characters are average in bed, nothing crazy or noticeable. Some might end up in this category because they ARE good at sex, but the entire process would be inconvenient or uncomfortable to initiate.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

These characters are good at sex, give or take a few points depending on their mood or situation.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

These characters excel in giving pleasure and would be well worth the time and effort involved.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

These characters would be so good at sex that all other factors are irrelevant. They are serving and we are here for it.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

These are characters that should fall lower in the rankings, but their sexual prowess supersedes their inherent awfulness to a noteworthy degree.

Full list below the read more. Obviously it's not going to be sfw.

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

Dragonkin Soldier:

Mindless beast

Astel, Naturalborn of the Void

Weird rock alien, doesn't/can't understand.

Fia's Champions:

Ghosts, simps.

Regal Ancestor Spirit

Animal

Erdtree Avatar

A plant

Great Wyrm Theodorix

Mindless beast.

Ulcerated Tree Spirit

A plant, no junk

Tibia Mariner:

Skeleton

Red Wolf of the Champion:

Animal.

Full-Grown Fallingstar Beast

Weird rock alien, doesn't/can't understand.

Abductor Virgin

First off, just some snakes in a robot. Second, virgin.

Erdtree Burial Watchdog

Stone gargoyle

Crystalians

Non-organic

Mad Pumpkin Heads

Unable to consent due to madness.

Cemetery Shade

Unable to consent due to mind controlling parasite.

Spirit-Caller Snail

Animal

Runebear

Animal

Miranda the Blighted Bloom

A plant

Guardian Golem

Stone gargoyle

Starscourge Radahn:

Unable to consent due to madness

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Elden Beast:

Too catholic.

Sir Gideon Ofnir, the All-Knowing:

Dick game weak - unironically posts joker memes.

Omenkiller:

Basically a cop.

Necromancer Garris:

Killed his family, not a good husband.

Royal Revenant:

Won't stop screaming (in an unsexy way)

Godrick the Grafted:

Incel - Also all that murder and torture business but mostly the Incel stuff.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

Valiant Gargoyle:

Could probably have sex if it wanted to, but is kinda going through a lot right now. Ya know, that whole "Is made of several corpses mashed together" thing.

Malenia, Blade of Miquella:

Look, I ALSO wanted her to higher up on this list, but let's be honest here. Her body is rotting and falling apart, she just isn't up for sex in her current form. In her prime? She'd be top of the list. She's the daughter of Marika and Radagon, she'd be playing fuck/marry/kill with every warrior who crossed her path. (in that order)

Death Rite Bird:

I think it might be physically capable of sex, but is too busy burning corpses to bother with stuff like that.

Black Blade Kindred:

Same reason as the Valiant Gargoyle but you might have like 2% more of a chance because they are goth.

Maliketh, the Black Blade:

Would normally be a sex god, but is too religious. Probably took a vow about this sort of thing.

Morgott, the Omen King:

You kidding me? This guy has the same energy as a repressed youth pastor. He's gonna be a virgin till the day he dies. The dude sided with the same religious order that locked him a sewer and tried to kill him. He's not out there getting phone numbers he's too busy praying and judging others for their 'impure thoughts'.

Draconic Tree Sentinel:

Married to his job, also physically chained to his horse. He ain't taking off that armor anytime soon.

Wormface:

Too sad, leave him alone his face is full of worms.

Tree Sentinel:

Same as the Draconic Tree Sentinel but he's a tiny bit more naive so you might have a better chance.

Elder Dragon Greyoll:

Too sleepy, but still kinda a milf.

Grafted Scion:

There might be some genitals in there somewhere but I don't think they know how or even want to use them.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

Esgar, Priest of Blood:

No sense of hygiene, is always covered in blood (in an unsexy way)

Mohg, Lord of Blood:

This loser is dripping with all the least sexy bodily fluids and he has sharp horns sticking out of him. Even if you got him in bed you'd only enjoy like 5% of it. Plus you just know he'd be all needy afterwards and try to get you to join his MLM.

Borealis the Freezing Fog:

Too cold, not a snuggler.

Elemer of the Briar:

The armor stays ON during sex.

Kindred of Rot:

It's like all the worst possible aspects of alien biology, it won't be nearly as fun as you hoped.

Sanguine Noble:

Same as all the other Mohg followers, too sticky and too smelly.

Decaying Ekzykes:

He's sick right now, leave him alone.

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

Loretta, Knight of the Haligtree:

I'm sure she'd be a decent lover. Maybe a little overzealous but she'd has good intentions.

Grave Warden Duelist:

I mean these guys are hot and probably fuck like a truck but they are not the most caring lovers, also they are covered in live snakes so there is that.

Night's Cavalry:

If you like goth knights I'm sure they'd be fine.

Alabaster Lord:

Their skin probably feels like stone, but I bet they can pull off all sorts of freaky zero-g sex stuff if you ask them.

Onyx Lord:

Same as the Alabaster Lord but slightly more goth.

Fell Twins:

Once you get past the horns and stuff I bet the Omens are actually pretty good in bed, just watch out.

Demi-Human Queens:

I feel like all Demi-humans are pretty good lovers but their biology probably has some unexpected drawbacks.

Stonedigger Troll:

If you can get past the texture and the size I bet they could be decent in bed.

Flying Dragon Greyll:

A surprisingly unsexy dragon, but a dragon is a dragon and still worth at least a one night stand.

Glintstone Dragon Smarag:

A dragon willing to kill racist magic users, earns them a few extra points.

Beastman of Farum Azula:

On one hand the Beastmen probably have crazy mating skills, but they are also zombies, which detracts some points for all the decay.

Battlemage Hugues:

Contrary to popular belief, Wizards are not very good at sex. They spend all their time studying instead of partying, at least Hugues is willing to get his hands dirty.

Commander O'Neil:

Seems like a decent guy, but probably won't shut up about his time in the military. Also he is infected with scarlet rot so that might be a mood killer.

Bloodhound Knight Darriwil:

The bloodhound knights are probably pretty wild in bed if you can earn their loyalty, but good luck with that.

Adan, Thief of Fire:

The dude committed heresy, that has to earn him some sexy points.

Soldier of Godrick:

He's a good boy, he's doing his job so throw him a bone.

Flying Dragon Agheel:

One of the first dragons you encounter, so he earns some points for style.

Demi-Human Chief:

Same as the queens, but probably a bit rougher in bed.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

Lichdragon Fortissax:

A much sexier dragon, you know they were hooking up with Godwin. Only loses some points for all the death rot.

Crucible Knight Siluria:

A bit gloomy, but I bet the crucible knights can do all sorts of freaky stuff with their animal body parts.

Mimic Tear:

A slippery liquid shapeshifter, need I say more?

Commander Niall:

A way better guy than O'Niel, plus he just a bit more daddy energy.

Fire Giant:

Once you get past his size, his sadness and the giant fell god of destruction in his chest, I bet he's got something going on.

Ancient Hero of Zamor:

Gives me Hercules/Amazonian vibes, I could be into it.

Cleanrot Knight:

Lesbian activities detected.

Crucible Knight:

These guys have tails, horns, wings and big old throat sacks. Imagine the possibilities.

Glintstone Dragon Adula:

Has a sword. If you hear "Dragon holding a sword" and your pants aren't already off, we can't be friends.

Bols, Carian Knight:

He seems like a good boy.

Scaly Misbegotten:

I feel like the Misbegotten have some really interesting possibilities with their animal biology. I bet they have bonobo type societies and that could be fun.

Leonine Misbegotten:

Same as the other Misbegotten.

Misbegotten Warrior:

Same as the other Misbegotten.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

Crucible Knight Ordovis:

Has all the desirable traits of a Crucible Knight but I also imagine they are super into threesomes.

Perfumer Tricia:

She seems really nice, and would be a super attentive lover. Plus she probably has access to crazy drugs and could hook you up.

Nox Swordstress & Nox Priest:

You just know that the Nox were getting up to crazy hot and crazy unethical experiments in their underground cities. These two probably get up to some wild shit and they are inviting you to join them.

Rennala, Queen of the Full Moon:

As she is now, I bet she'd be too sad to really be in a relationship again. But she kept up with Radagon and you just know she has some tricks up her sleeves that could make you abandon the golden order.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

Dragonlord Placidusax:

Has two male heads and three female heads, imagine...

Ancient Dragon Lansseax:

Formed a whole freaky dragon/human cult and you just know they got into some eyes-wide-shut orgies behind those doors.

Godfrey, First Elden Lord (Hoarah Loux):

We all knew he'd be this high on the list. He was just a normal dude but he managed to keep pace with Queen Marika (Who is basically a goddess of fertility) for a good long while. He will fold you in half (on the battlefield and in the bedroom.)

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

Radagon of the Golden Order:

He sucks in all the worst ways, but I mean... You can't NOT. Both Radagon and Marika are the embodiment of evil but they managed to suck and fuck their way across an entire continent for generations. You HAVE to give a try at least once.

Godskin Duo:

Oh my god will it be awful with all those flayed human skins, but you know you are still gonna have to. They can stretch and do all sorts of freaky stuff with their bodies, plus they kill gods and nothing is sexier than heresy.

Vyke, Knight of the Roundtable:

The dude is a mad killer but... he can still probably get it, might as well give it a try.

God-Devouring Serpent / Rykard, Lord of Blasphemy:

Personally I wouldn't, he's a loser and will probably kill you. But he is also a giant snake made up of squirming hands doing all sorts of sexual experiments, I can't blame you if you want to give it a taste.

Black Knife Assassin:

They committed a whole lot of treason but the power of armored lesbians is too hard to resist.

Patches:

If you are already having sex with from software characters, you gotta give Patches at least one attempt. When you wake up he'll have robbed you, but you knew what you were getting into.

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galedekarios · 1 year ago

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gale & physical ailments caused by the orb

i've talked before about how the game portrays gale's struggle with the orb, how he himself often tries to play off his condition with humour, minimisation or redirection, and how there's an obvious disparity between the seriousness of his condition and how the game handles it as the player progresses the plot.

in that previous post, i've only briefly touched on how the orb manifests itself physically, however, and i wanted to take the time to do a closer more in-depth look. for that i've compiled a few things that i thought were interesting.

to start off, this is the description the player gets for gale's condition:

it's also made obvious when gale is afflicted by his animation. as his "spirit is being drained", gale is slumped over, clearly affected:

if left untreated, gale will have the following prompts to remind the player:

all these prompts have the same devnote:

node context: slightly pained/struggling with a constant ache (the orb is negatively affecting him, causing him pain. prompt is to remind the player that gale is unwell.

the same is mirrored with origin gale:

the devnote states:

internodecontext: gale gets worse for the first time. he has consumed no magic items, and is presumably only learning about his affliction. note context: urgent/in great discomfort. he's weaking because he's gone too long without taking his 'medicine' (consuming a magical item to keep himself alive)

when gale first reveals his need for magical artefacts, the player can ask him what would happen if he doesn't/isn't able to consume a magical artefact. he lists the following symptoms:

player: what happen if you don't consume these artefacts? gale: i'll spare you the finer details, but it begins with a biological deterioration. muscle spasms, disorientation, a slight ringing in the ears. and if left for too long... catastrophe.

this is also echoed in a different dialogue and one of the only dialogues where gale admits to being in some level of pain:

gale: you'll have to speak slowly. i'm finding it quite difficult to concentrate with my condition gnawing at my insides like a teething displacer kitten.

when he consumes an artefact, the discomfort is shown on his face:

i've included this idle animation from my previous post as well (gif made by @bladeofavernus):

@camilleonne has pointed out in their post that the place where the orb entered gale's body has scarred:

summary:

symptoms of the orb are

-general biological deterioration -muscle spasms -ringing in the ears -disorientation -concentration issues -varying levels of physical discomfort / pain

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

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beardedalcoholic · 9 months ago

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Space Cowboys

The humans had abandoned them. After seemingly endless cycles of fighting the battle was about to be lost and the war with it, and the humans had left them to fight for themselves.

‘So much for the legendary pack-bonding of humans.’ Krillna thought to himself as he leaned around his bunker to lay down some suppressing fire on the enemy. Tungsten rods magnetically accelerated to near supersonic speed ripped into the battle field and enemies died by the dozens…but it wasn’t enough.

Seemingly endless waves of the reptilian enemies known as the Slentine seemed to crawl and slither towards their position. Fields of scales and fangs greeted him every time he looked around his barrier, looks of desperation and hopelessness looked back every time he turned away from the battle.

“You would think the humans could have at least left us the weapons before they ran like cowards!” cried out one soldier before he was cut down by enemy fire.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

“Did anyone else hear that?” Krillna asked after firing another salvo of rounds towards the slowly advancing enemy. Looking at his ammo counter and seeing it was empty, Krillna threw his weapon to the ground and grabbed the ceremonial bone dagger the warriors of his people were gifted upon maturity.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

Holding the blade to his chest and breathing the prayers of his youth, Krillna begged the seven skies of his homeland for the power of the mighty storm, pleaded for his spirit to be flown on the winds to his ancestors. Finding himself at the end of his prayers and ready to face the enemy head on and to fight tooth, bone and claw in the ways of his ancestors, Krillna couldn’t help but think he heard something on the wind again. Looking to the forest side of the battlefield, Krillna felt a rumbling through the pads of his clawed foot.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ RAWHIIIIIDE!

With the sound of thunder and snapping trees, Krillna felt all three of his hearts stop and fall.

Gierophants, mighty horned beasts weighing several tons with great crests of hardened skin behind the skull to protect the neck and a row of spines extending the length of the spine, each one several times as tall as Krillna’s seven foot frame. Easy to anger, nearly impossible to outrun, harder to damage and often found in herds of fifty to one-hundred the gierophant was this world’s largest inhabitant, but Krillna thought he saw something on the back of the lead beast.

Humans.

Humans were riding the gierophants…a herd of what looked to be sixty or more and each one had a human standing on the snout of the creature and even more behind the crest or between the dorsal spines.

RAIN AND WIND AND WEATHER

The humans were either lashed to a spine or each other with lengths of rope and each one was firing wildly into the horde of enemies, hanging sideways from the flanks of the great beasts, weaving between the spines, crouching behind the crest and all were firing their rifles.

HELL BENT FOR LEATHER

“Sir? Am I having a substance dream or are those humans riding Gierophants into the Slentine ranks in a stampede while singing what sounds like a human battle song?” A young warrior asked in disbelief as the battle field seemed to come to a stop. The pause didn’t last long as the slentine soldiers quickly turned their weapons on the stampede of human madness and animal rage.

WISHING MY GIRL WAS BY MY SIIIDEEE!

“You are most definitely seeing this pup, the crazy humans went and did the impossible again…WARRIORS OF CANTRAXA!” Krillna called out to the stunned warriors behind him, filled with a renewed hope for victory.

“DRAW YOUR BLADES AND RELOAD YOUR WEAPONS, THE HUMANS HAVE GIVEN US THIS CHANCE AND BY THE FIRE PLAINS OF OUR HOME WORLD I WILL NOT STAND BY AND MAKE NOTHING OF IT!” Holding his blade high above his head the Pack-Master let loose the battle cry of his ancestors with such ferocity that it seemed to ring from the very heavens, turned from his comrades and ran face first into the chaos of the newly evened battle.

ALL THE THINGS IM MISSIN’

Three hardened battle packs of Cantraxa warriors, thought to be beaten down by sheer numbers and attrition, thought to be defeated and simply too stupid to understand… howled. Each and every one felt what the humans referred to as battle lust and with the feeling of fire singing in their veins each and every one reached deep into their souls and called the ancient war cries of times long past. GOOD VITTLES, LOVE AND KISSIN’

The humans sang on, swinging wildly from the sides of the Gierophants or hanging on with one hand and firing with the other, seemingly oblivious to the rounds of enemy’s fire flying past them. With every human felled the others seemed to sing louder. Krillna was in awe of these small hairless creatures as he ran towards the battle, they rode the great beasts of this world like they were born to it, they faced a horde of enemies without fear and sang their defiance in the face of death and defeat. ARE WAITING AT THE END OF MY RIIIIIIDEEEEE~

================================================

The battle was won, the slentine ranks had been broken in half by the stampede and when the front ranks turned to fire on the new threat they were drowned in an avalanche of fur and fang, bullet and bone from the Cantraxa warriors.

The humans had run over and shot down much of the enemy, the field had been churned to a bloody mud pit of broken bodies and weapons, the Gierophants were long gone by then, the humans had dismounted and returned to base.

Krillna watched in curious amazement as the humans went about their post battle chores.

Groups of humans combing the battlefield for survivors, pulling bodies from the muck and determining if they could be saved or not. Slentine and Cantraxian alike were given final honors or medical aid…mere hours before these small hairless maniacs were riding juggernauts of death into battle while singing and laughing and now, they were providing aid and respect to not only their comrades but the enemy as well.

Amazing graaaceee

A hauntingly sad and seemingly profound song floated like fog over the battle field from somewhere among the humans.

How sweet the sound

Funeral pyres and graves were dug according to cultural wishes, wounded were cared for regardless of species or alignment in the war. Bodies counted and tears were shed that day and as the last sun in the sky fell below the horizon, Krillna found himself surrounded by his warriors and humans.

Holding a strange liquid in his cup, the humans called it beer…or maybe stout?...Krillna looked to the leader of the humans as she stood upon a table laden with food and drink.

“Tonight, we celebrate our victory!” The humans cheered and the Cantraxans yipped and howled like pups.

“Tonight, we mourn our glorious fallen!” With a silence that choked the very soul, every human raised their drink to the memory of those they had lost and drank deeply. Krillna and his warriors all mimicked the humans in their silence and honors.

“Tonight…we honor our worthy enemies.” The commander of the humans raised her cup one last time and as one all the humans followed. Krillna could not see the reason behind the last one but was not about to comment on it while surrounded by humans.

Instruments were tuned and soon employed to their fullest extent as humans began dancing and singing, wagers were made, games were played and for a few moments Krillna could almost believe that they were simply back in his homeland celebrating the lunar convergence festival.

Spotting the human leader on the outskirts of the revelry Krillna silently approached the human as she slowly drank and watched those she had shed blood with. Stepping on a fallen can of some kind alerted the commander and as she whipped her head towards Krillna, he froze in place…the look in her eyes was not that of a celebration, but rather that of battle mad soldiers. Items within reach categorized as weapons, responses and plans ranging from peacefully violent to disturbingly chaotic flashed through her face in seconds. Her grip on the cup she held and the tensing of her muscles told Krillna that she had to stop herself from launching the cup at his face.

Raising his clawed hands in a sign of peace Krillna approached the commander slowly. As he approached the tiny human, no more than five feet tall, Krillna noticed tears leaking from her eyes in a steady stream cutting tracks through the remaining dirt and grime upon her cheeks. Hands shaking the commander raised the nearly impromptu projectile to her mouth and took a steadying sip before addressing the large warrior.

“What can I do for you Pack-Master?” Asked the commander as she turned her eyes back to the celebration before her.

“You do not celebrate victory like the others? Why do you spill tears so freely War Mother?” Krillna asked, using the honorific of the greatest female warriors of his people.

“I uh…it just takes a little time for me to wind down from battle and get into the spirit of things, eventually I’ll head out and show these youngsters how to really party but for now I will just have to deal with the aftermath of the adrenalin.” The commander said with a small shake to her voice.

“I have heard of this adrenalin, most species would simply die if exposed to it but you humans produce it naturally?” The Pack-Master asked.

“Yes, our bodies naturally produce it and well…it dissipates quicker for some and for others it sticks around longer. Battle madness, bloodlust, berserker rage and more are just different names of the same thing, active or excess adrenalin…our minds are changed and muscles freed of restraints while under its influence but afterwards we have to put the beast back in the cage and deal with the mess it made, physically, mentally and spiritually.” The commander responded with a look in her eyes that said she was looking deep into the past.

“How did you humans tame the Gierophants? It was previously thought impossible to even safely approach them never mind ride them or direct them.” Krillna asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the maudlin thoughts the commander seemed to be sinking into.

With an almost visible brightening of her features the commander looked up at Krillna.

“We didn’t actually tame them, we were trying to find either a good escape route to get everyone out or possibly a way to ambush the Slentine army, make them fight on two fronts as it were. We ran across the herd of Gierophants by accident and sort of came up with the plan on the spot, we figured if they started to stampede in our direction the base would be destroyed but if they went just little to the side they would hit our enemies. Jackson over there used to be what we call a ‘Cowboy’ and said if you can point a bull’s nose in one direction the body would follow, so we made some lassos and climbing rigs and well, the rest is history.” The commander finished with a small shrug and a decidedly less shaky sip of her drink.

Krillna was almost to shocked to breath.

“You found a herd of the planet’s largest and most dangerous animal, decided to irritate them into charging you with the enemy directly behind, hoping that they would run over said enemy and while they did that you threw ropes on them so you could climb onto them and ride them…you humans are insane.” with a shake of his great furred head Krillna could only thank the seven skies that these lunatics were on their side.

With a laugh the commander tipped the last of her drink back and wrapped her hand around one of his fingers, his hand being large enough to completely encompass her own, and began to pull him towards the firelight of the bonfires, a mischievous light in her eyes and a smile that spoke of wicked delights to come on her lips.

“Oh you haven’t even begun to see the madness of humanity, come and we shall sing you songs of our people.” The commander laughed as the crowd enveloped them, music wound through the air like smoke, soldiers and warriors alike danced and spun and Krillna could only laugh as he downed the rest of his drink and threw reservations to the wind with a final thought.

‘Humans are weird, but wonderful.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #ao3 fanfic

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jedimaesteryoda · 2 months ago

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With The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim coming out, I am interested to see the anime story of a section of Rohan's history. The animation looks good, and I have a personal fondness for hand-drawn animation as opposed to the more computer-generated animation commonly used today.

What I'm not enthused about is looking at some of the comments for the trailer complaining that the protagonist is female rather than her father King Helm Hammerhand being the protagonist. They give the usual dogwhistles of "wokeism" and mocking that it needed to be a female protagonist because Helm was disqualified for being a white male.

Did they miss Théoden's niece Eowyn in the main series, the Rohirric princess who defied her gender norms and fought in the Battle of Pelennor Fields, slaying the Witch-king of Angmar? She also does it while literally announcing that she is a woman, uttering the line "But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Éowyn I am, Éomund's daughter" in response to him saying "No living man may hinder me."

Had it been done today, there would be complaints of Eowyn slaying the Witch-king instead of Théoden along with that line, saying she was there for diversity in a disparaging way or "woke" points. It boils down to a contempt for protagonists who aren't white, cis men. If you naturally assume a film or show is going to be bad, because the lead(s) is a woman or a POC you're just revealing your own attitudes towards race and gender.

Female protagonists are not unheard of in anime either, especially with Miyazuki's films like Nausicaa of the Wind Valley, Spirited Away or even films like Ghost in the Shell.

Personally, it's a fresh take that could be good. Going by the trailer, Hera is at the center of it all in not just being a princess of Rohan, but the request for her hand in marriage is what sets off the sequence of events that leads to war. She also personally knows the antagonist Wulf as a childhood friend who may have developed feelings for her, creating a more complicated relationship than simply Frodo and Sauron and adding another layer of drama. It also creates a more complicated villain with motivations that are understandable with regards to the loss of his father.

There's also the relationship Hera has with her father. She notes how he and Wulf's father spoke of her prospect of her marriage "as if I was not even in the room" or no one asks her opinion about her ostensible future. She also wants to defend her kingdom, but her royal father dismisses her. While he does care deeply for his daughter, Helm is still a man blinded by the prejudices of his patriarchal society.

Hera herself sounds like she could be an interesting character with her struggles in both against the gender restrictions, to defend her kingdom and in her personal relationships.

I guess we'll have to wait and see.

#lotr #lord of the rings #rohan #war of the rohirrim #tolkien #jrr tolkien

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anotherhumaninthisworld · 5 months ago

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Frev appearance descriptions masterpost

Jean-Paul Marat — In Histoire de la Révolution française: 1789-1796 (1851) Nicolas Villiaumé pins down Marat’s height to four pieds and eight pouces (around 157 cm). This is a somewhat dubious claim considering Villiaumé was born 26 years after Marat’s death and therefore hardly could have measured him himself, but we do know he had had contacts with Marat’s sister Albertine, so maybe there’s still something to this. That Marat was short is however not something Villaumé is alone in claiming. Brissot wrote in his memoirs that he was ”the size of a sapajou,” the pamphlet Bordel patriotique (1791) claimed that he had ”such a sad face, such an unattractive height,” while John Moore in A Journal During a Residence in France, From the Beginning of August, to the Middle of December, 1792 (1793) documented that ”Marat is little man, of a cadaverous complexion, and a countenance exceedingly expressive of his disposition. […] The only artifice he uses in favour of his looks is that of wearing a round hat, so far pulled down before as to hide a great part of his countenance.” In Portrait de Marat (1793) Fabre d’Eglantine left the following very detailed description: ”Marat was short of stature, scarcely five feet high. He was nevertheless of a firm, thick-set figure, without being stout. His shoulders and chest were broad, the lower part of his body thin, thigh short and thick, legs bowed, and strong arms, which he employed with great vigor and grace. Upon a rather short neck he carried a head of a very pronounced character. He had a large and bony face, aquiline nose, flat and slightly depressed, the under part of the nose prominent; the mouth medium-sized and curled at one corner by a frequent contraction; the lips were thin, the forehead large, the eyes of a yellowish grey color, spirited, animated, piercing, clear, naturally soft and ever gracious and with a confident look; the eyebrows thin, the complexion thick and skin withered, chin unshaven, hair brown and neglected. He was accustomed to walk with head erect, straight and thrown back, with a measured stride that kept time with the movement of his hips. His ordinary carriage was with his two arms firmly crossed upon his chest. In speaking in society he always appeared much agitated, and almost invariably ended the expression of a sentiment by a movement of the foot, which he thrust rapidly forward, stamping it at the same time on the ground, and then rising on tiptoe, as though to lift his short stature to the height of his opinion. The tone of his voice was thin, sonorous, slightly hoarse, and of a ringing quality. A defect of the tongue rendered it difficult for him to pronounce clearly the letters c and l, to which he was accustomed to give the sound g. There was no other perceptible peculiarity except a rather heavy manner of utterance; but the beauty of his thought, the fullness of his eloquence, the simplicity of his elocution, and the point of his speeches absolutely effaced the maxillary heaviness. At the tribune, if he rose without obstacle or excitement, he stood with assurance and dignity, his right hand upon his hip, his left arm extended upon the desk in front of him, his head thrown back, turned toward his audience at three-quarters, and a little inclined toward his right shoulder. If on the contrary he had to vanquish at the tribune the shrieking of chicanery and bad faith or the despotism of the president, he awaited the reéstablishment of order in silence and resuming his speech with firmness, he adopted a bold attitude, his arms crossed diagonally upon his chest, his figure bent forward toward the left. His face and his look at such times acquired an almost sardonic character, which was not belied by the cynicism of his speech. He dressed in a careless manner: indeed, his negligence in this respect announced a complete neglect of the conventions of custom and of taste and, one might almost say, gave him an air of ressemblance.”

Albertine Marat — both Alphonse Ésquiros and François-Vincent Raspail who each interviewed Albertine in her old age, as well as Albertine’s obituary (1841) noted a striking similarity in apperance between her and her older brother. Esquiros added that she had ”two black and piercing eyes.” A neighbor of Albertine claimed in 1847 that she had ”the face of a man,” and that she had told her that ”my comrades were never jealous of me, I was too ugly for that” (cited in Marat et ses calomniateurs ou Réfutation de l’Histoire des Girondins de Lamartine (1847) by Constant Hilbe)

Simonne Evrard — An official minute from July 1792, written shortly after Marat’s death, affirmed the following: “Height: 1m, 62, brown hair and eyebrows, ordinary forehead, aquiline nose, brown eyes, large mouth, oval face.” The minute for her interrogation instead says: “grey eyes, average mouth.”Cited in this article by marat-jean-paul.org. When a neighbor was asked whether Simonne was pretty or not around two decades after her death in 1824, she responded that she was ”très-bien” and possessed ”an angelic sweetness” (cited in Marat et ses calomniateurs ou Réfutation de l’Histoire des Girondins de Lamartine (1847) by Constant Hilbe) while Joseph Souberbielle instead claimed that ”she was extremely plain and could never have had any good looks.”

Maximilien Robespierre — The hostile pampleth Vie secrette, politique et curieuse de M. J Maximilien Robespierre… released shortly after thermidor by L. Duperron, specifies Robespierre’s hight to have been ”five pieds and two or three pouces” (between 165 and 170 cm). He gets described as being ”of mediocre hight” by his former teacher Liévin-Bonaventure Proyart in 1795, ”a little below average height” by journalist Galart de Montjoie in 1795, ”of medium hight” by the former Convention deputy Antoine-Claire Thibaudeau in 1830 and ”of middling form” by his sister in 1834, but ”of small size” by John Moore in 1792 and Claude François Beaulieu in 1824. The 1792 pampleth Le véritable portrait de nos législateurs… wrote that Robespierre lacked ”an imposing physique, a body à la Danton,”supported by Joseph Fiévée who described him as ”small and frail” in 1836, and Louis Marie de La Révellière who said he was ”a physically puny man” in his memoirs published 1895. For his face, both François Guérin (on a note written below a sketch in 1791), Buzot in his Mémoires sur la Révolution française (written 1794), Germaine de Staël in her Considerations on the Principal Events of the French Revolution (1818), a foreign visitor by the name of Reichardt in 1792 (cited in Robespierre by J.M Thompson), Beaulieu and La Révellière-Lépeaux all agreed that he had a ”pale complexion.” Charlotte does instead describe it as ”delicate” and writes that Maximilien’s face ”breathed sweetness and goodwill, but it was not as regularly handsome as that of his brother,” while Proyart claims his apperance was ”entirely commonplace.” The foreigner Reichardt wrote Robespierre had ”flattened, almost crushed in, features,” something which Proyart agrees with, writing that his ”very flat features” consisted of ”a rather small head born on broad shoulders, a round face, an indifferent pock-marked complexion, a livid hue [and] a small round nose.” Thibaudeau writes Robespierre had a ”thin face and cold physiognomy, bilious complexion and false look,” Duperron that ”his colouring was livid, bilious; his eyes gloomy and dull,” something which Stanislas Fréron in Notes sur Robespierre (1794) also agrees with, claiming that ”Robespierre was choked with bile. His yellow eyes and complexion showed it.” His eyes were however green according to Merlin de Thionville and Guérin while Proyart insists they were ”pale blue and slightly sunken.” Etienne Dumont, who claimed to have talked to Robespierre twice, wrote in his Souvernirs sur Mirabeau et sur les deux premières assemblées législatives (1832) that ”he had a sinister appearance; he would not look people in the face, and blinked continually and painfully,” and Duperron too insists on ”a frequent flickering of the eyelids.” Both Fréron, Buzot, Merlin de Thionville, La Révellière, Louis Sébastien Mercier in his Le Nouveau Paris (1797) and Beffroy de Reigny in Dictionnaire néologique des hommes et des choses ou notice alphabétique des hommes de la Révolution, qui ont paru à l’Auteur les plus dignes d’attention… (1799) made the peculiar claim that Robespierre’s face was similar to that of a cat. Proyart, Beaulieu and Millingen all wrote that it was marked by smallpox scars, ”mediocretly” according to Proyart, ”deeply” according to the other two. Proyart also writes that Robespierre’s hair was light brown (châtain-blond). He is the only one to have described his hair color as far as I’m aware.

For his clothes, both Montjoie, Louis-Sébastien Mercier in 1801, Helen Maria Williams in 1795, Duperron, Millingen and Fiévée recall the fact that Robespierre wore glasses, the first two claiming he never appeared in public without them, Duperron that he ”almost always” wore them, and Millingen that they were green. Pierre Villiers, who claimed to have served as Robespierre’s secretary in 1790, recalled in Souvenirs d'un deporté (1802) that Robespierre ”was very frugal, fastidiously clean in his clothes, I could almost say in his one coat, which was was of a dark olive colour,” but also that ”He was very poor and had not even proper clothes,” and even had to borrow a suit from a friend at one point. Duperron records that ”[Robespierre’s] clothes were elegant, his hair always neat,” Millingen that ”his dress was careful, and I recollect that he wore a frill and ruffles, that seemed to me of valuable lace,”Charlotte that ”his dress was of an extreme cleanliness without fastidiousness,” Williams that he ”always appeared not only dressed with neatness, but with some degree of elegance, and while he called himself the leader of the sans-culottes, never adopted the costume of his band. His hideous countenance […] was decorated with hair carefully arranged and nicely powdered,” Fiévée that Robespierre in 1793 was ”almost alone in having retained the costume and hairstyle in use before the Revolution,” something which made him ressemble ”a tailor from the Ancien régime,” Thibadeau that ”he was neat in his clothes, and he had kept the powder when no one wore it anymore,” Germaine de Staël that ”he was the only person who wore powder in his hair; his clothes were neat, and his countenance nothing familiar,” Révellière writes that Robespierre’s voice was ”toneless, monotonous and harsh,” Beaulieu that it ”was sharp and shrill, almost always in tune with violence,” and Thinadeau that his ”tone” was ”dogmatic and imperious.”

Augustin Robespierre — described as ”big, well formed, and [with a] face full of nobility and beauty” in the memoirs of his sister Charlotte. Charles Nodier did in Souvenirs, épisodes et portraits pour servir à l'histoire de la Révolution et de l'Empire (1831) recall that Augustin had a ”pale and macerated physiognomy” and a quite monotonous voice.

Charlotte Robespierre — an anonymous doctor who claimed to have run into Charlotte in 1833, the year before her death, described her as ”very thin.” Jules Simon, who reported to have met her the following year, did him too describe her as ”a very thin woman, very upright in her small frame, dressed in the antique style with very puritanical cleanliness.”

Camille Desmoulins — described as ”quite tall, with good shoulders” in number 16 of the hostile journal Chronique du Manège (1790). Described as ugly by both said journal, the journal Journal Général de la Cour et de la Ville in 1791, his friend François Suleau in 1791, former teacher Proyart in 1795, Galart de Montjoie in 1796, Georges Duval in 1841, Amandine Rolland in 1864 (she does however add that it was ”with that witty and animated ugliness that pleases”) and even himself in 1793. Proyart describes his complexion as ”black,” Duval as ”bilious.” Both of them agree in calling his eyes ”sinister.” Duval also claims that Desmoulins’ physiognomy was similar to that of an ospray. Montjoie writes that Desmoulins had ”a difficult pronunciation, a hard voice, no oratorical talent,” Proyart that ”he spoke very heavily and stammered in speech” and Camille himself that he has ”difficulty in pronunciation” in a letter dated March 1787, and confesses ”the feebleness of my voice and my slight oratorical powers” in number 4 of the Vieux Cordelier. In his very last letter to his wife, dated April 1 1794, Desmoulins reveals that he wears glasses.

Lucile Desmoulins — The concierge at the Sainte-Pélagie prison documented the following when Lucille was brought before him on April 4 1794: ”height of five pieds and one and a half pouce (166 cm). Brown hair, eyebrows and eyes. Middle sized nose and mouth. Round face and chin. Ordinary front. A mark above the chin on the right.” Cited in Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un rêve de république (2018). Described as beautiful by the journal Journal Général de la Cour et de la Ville in 1791 (it specifies her to be ”as pretty as her husband is ugly”), former Convention deputy Pierre Paganel in 1815, Louis Marie Prudhomme in 1830, Amandine Rolland in 1864 and Théodore de Lameth (memoirs published 1913).

Georges Danton — Described as having an ugly face by both Manon Roland in 1793, Vadier in 1794, the anonymous pamphlet Histoire, caractère de Maximilien Robespierre et anecdotes sur ses successeurs in 1794, Louis-Sébastien Mercier in 1797, Antoine Fantin-Desodoards in 1807, John Gideon Millingen in 1848, Élisabeth Duplay Lebas in the 1840s, the memoirs (1860) of François-René Chateaubriand (he specifies that Danton had ”the face of a gendarme mixed with that of a lustful and cruel prosecutor”) as well as the Mémoires de la Societé d’agriculture, commerce, sciences et arts du department de la Marse, Chalons-sur-Marne (1862). As reason for this ugliness, Millingen lifts his ”course, shaggy hair” (that apparently gave him the apperance of a ”wild beast”), the fact he was deeply marked with small-poxes, and that his eyes were unusually small (”and sparkling in surrounding darkness”), while Chateaubriand instead underlines that he was ”snub-nosed,” with ”windy nostrils [and] seamed flats.” Mercier writes that Danton’s face was ”hideously crushed.” The former Convention deputy Alexandre Rousselin (1774-1847) reported in his Danton — Fragment Historique that Danton developed a lip deformity after getting gored by a bull as a baby, had his nose crushed by another bull, got trampled in the face by a group of pigs and finally survived ”a very serious case of smallpoxes, accompanied by purpura.” In 1792, John Moore reported that ”Danton is not so tall, but much broader than Roland; his form is coarse and uncommonly robust,” while Vadier claims that Danton possessed a ”robust form, colossal eloquence,” the anonymous pamphlet that ”he was very strong, he said himself that he had athletic forms,” Desodoards that he ”held the nature of athletic and colossal forms,” Chateaubriand that he was ”a vandal in the size of Goth” (don’t know who he’s referring to), Pierre Paganel (in Essai historique et critique sur la révolution française: ses causes, ses résultats, avec les portraits des hommes les plus célèbres (1815)) that he was of an ”enormous stature,” while the pamphlet described him as a ”gigantic orator” whose voice ”shook the vaults of the hall.” René Levasseur in 1829, John Moore, Millingen, Paganel and Desodoards all agreed with this, the first four writing that Danton possessed a ”stentorian voice,” the latter that he had ”a very strong voice, without being sonorous or flexible.” In her memoirs (1834) Charlotte Robespierre claims that ”[Danton] did not at all conserve the dignity suited to the representative of a great people in his manners; his toilette was in disorder.”

Louis Antoine Saint-Just — In Saint-Just (1985) Bernard Vinot writes that Saint-Just’s childhood friend Augustin Lejeune recalled his “honest physiognomy,” and that his sister Louise would evoke her brother’s ”great beauty” for her grandchildren (I unfortunately can’t find the original sources here). The elderly Élisabeth Le Bas too stated that ”he was handsome, Saint-Just, with his pensive face, on which one saw the greatest energy, tempered by an air of indefinable gentleness and candor” (testimony found in Les Carnets de David d’Angers (1838-1855) by Pierre-Jean David d’Angers, cited in Veuve de Thermidor: le rôle et l'influence d'Élisabeth Duplay-Le Bas (1772-1859) sur la mémoire et l'historiographie de la Révolution française (2023) by Jolène Audrey Bureau, page 127). In Souvenirs de la révolution et de l’empire, Charles Nodier (who was twelve years old when he met Saint-Just…) agrees in calling him ”handsome,” but adds that he ”was far from offering this graceful combination of cute features with which we have seen it endowed by the euphemistic pencil of a lithograph,” had an ”ample and rather disproportionate chin,” that ”the arc of his eyebrows, instead of rounding into smooth and regular semi-circles, was closer to a straight line, and its interior angles, which were bushy and severe, merged into one another at the slightest serious thought that one saw pass on his forehead” and finally that ”his soft and fleshy lips indicated an almost invincible inclination to laziness and voluptuousness.” How would you know what his lips were like, Nodier. In Essai historique et critique sur la révolution française (1815) Pierre Paganel writes that Saint-Just had ”regular features and austere physiognomy.” He describes his complexion as ”bilious” while Nodier calls it ”pale and grayish, like that of most of the active men of the revolution.” Similar to Élisabeth’s description, Nodier writes that Saint-Just’s eyes were big and ”usually thoughtful,” while Paganel instead writes they were ”small and lively.” Saint-Just was of ”average height” according to Paganel, but ”of small stature” according to Nodier. According to Paganel, Saint-Just had a ”healthy body [and] proportions which expressed strength,” while Saint-Just’s colleague Levasseur de la Sarthe instead wrote in his memoirs that he was ”weak in body, to the point of fearing the whistling of bullets.” Finally, Paganel also gives the following details: ”large head, thick hair, disdainful gaze, strong but veiled voice, a general tinge of anxiety, the dark accent of concern and distrust, an extreme coldness in tone and manners.” In Lettre de Camille Desmoulins, député de Paris à la Convention, August général Dillon en prison aux Madelonettes (1793) Desmoulins jokingly writes that ”one can see by [Saint-Just’s] gait and bearing that he looks upon his own head as the corner-stone of the Revolution, for he carries it upon his shoulders with as much respect and as if it was the Sacred Host.” In Histoire de la Révolution française(1878), Jules Michelet claims that Élisabeth Le Bas had told him that this portrait, depicting Saint-Just as having ”a very low forehead, [with] the top of his head flattened, so that his hair, without being long, almost touched his eyes,” was similar to what he had looked like.

Jacques-Pierre Brissot — The following was documented after Brissot had been arrested at Moulins on June 10 1793 — ”height of five pieds (162 cm), a small amount of flat dark brown hair, eyebrows of the same color, high forehead and receding hairline, gray-brown, quite large and covered eyes, long and not very large nose, average mouth, long chin with a dimple, black beard, oval face narrow at the bottom” (cited in J.-P. Brissot mémoires (1754-1793); [suivi de] correspondance et papiers (1912)). In Journal During a Residence in France, from the Beginning of August, to the Middle of December, 1792 John Moore described Brissot as ”a little man, of an intelligent countenance, but of a weakly frame of body” and claimed that a person had told him that Brissot had told him that he is ”of so feeble a constitution” that he won’t be able to put up any resistance was someone try to assassinate him.

Jérôme Pétion — described as ”big and fat” (grand et gros) by Louis-Philippe in 1850 (cited in The Croker Papers: the Correspondence and Diaries of the late right honourable John Wilson Croker… (1885) volume 3, page 209). Manon Roland wrote in her memoirs that Pétion ”had nothing to regret physically; his size, his face, his gentleness, his urbanity, speak in his favor” as well as that he ”spoke fairly well,” a descriptions which Louis Marie Prudhomme partly agreed with, himself recording that Pétion ”had a proud countenance, a fairly handsome face, an affable look, a gentle eloquence, movements of talent and address; but his manners were composed, his eyes were dull, and he had something glistening in his features which repelled confidence” in Paris pendant le révolution (1789-1798) ou le nouveau Paris (1798). In Quelques notices pour l’histoire, et le récit de mes périls depuis le 31 mai 1793 (1794) Jean-Baptiste Louvet reported that, while on the run from the authorities after the insurrection of May 31, the less than forty years old Pétion already had a white hair and beard. This is confirmed by Frédéric Vaultier, who in Souvenirs de l'insurrection Normande, dite du Fédéralisme, en 1793 (1858) described Pétion during the same period as ”a good-looking man, with a calm and open physiognomy and beautiful white hair,” as well as by the examination of his mangled courpse on June 26 1794, which states he had ”grayish hair” (cited in Charlotte de Corday et les Girondins: pièces classées et annotées (1872) by Charles Vatel, volume 2, page 154.

François Buzot — according to the memoirs (1793) of Manon Roland, he had ”a noble figure and elegant size.” In the examination made of Buzot’s body after the suicide there is to read that he had black hair (cited in Charlotte de Corday et les Girondins: pièces classées et annotées (1872) by Charles Vatel, volume 2, page 153)

Charles Barbaroux — his son wrote in Jeunesse de Barbaroux (1822) that ”nature had richly endowed Barbaroux; a robust and large body; a charming, fine and witty physiognomy.” In 1867, François Laprade, who had witnessed Barbaroux’ execution as a thirteen year old, recollected that ”he was a brown man - that is to say he had brownish skin, black hair and beard, reclining figure” (cited in Charlotte de Corday et les Girondins: pièces classées et annotées, volume 3, page 728)

Marguerite-Élie Guadet — According to his passport (cited in Charlotte de Corday et les Girondins: pièces classées et annotées, volume 3, page 672): ”height of 5 pieds, 5 pouces (176 cm) middle sized mouth, black hair and eyebrows, ordinary chin, blue eyes, big forehead, thin face, upturned nose.” According to Frédéric Vaultier’s Souvenirs de l'insurrection Normande, dite du Fédéralisme, en 1793(1858), ”Guadet was a man of fine height, meagre, brown, bilious complexion, black beard, most expressive face.”

Joseph Le Bon — his passport description (cited in Louis Jacob, Joseph Le Bon, (1932) by Louis Jacob, volume 1, page 63) gives the following information: ”Height of five pieds six pouces (178 cm), light brown hair and eyebrows, high forehead, average nose, blue eyes, medium-sized mouth, smallpox scars.”

Claire Lacombe — the concierge of the Sainte Pélagie documented the following about the imprisoned Lacombe: ”height of 5 pieds, 2 pouces (168 cm). Brown hair, eyebrows and eyes, medium nose, large mouth, round face and chin, plain forehead” (cited in Trois femmes de la Révolution : Olymps de Gouges, Théroigne de Méricourt, Rose Lacombe (1900) by Léopold Lacour)

Charlotte Corday — according to her passport, ”height of five pieds one pouce (165 cm), brown hair and eyebrows, gray eyes, high forehead, long nose, medium mouth, round, forked (fourchu) chin, oval face.” (cited in Dossiers du procès criminel de Charlotte Corday, devant le Tribunal révolutionnaire(1861) by Charles-Joseph Vatel, page 55)

Prieur de la Marne — a passport dated October 1 1793 gives the following details: ”age of 37 years, height of 5 pieds 5 pouces (176 cm), blondish brown hair and eyebrows, receding hairline, long nose, grey eyes, large mouth.”

Maurice Duplay — ”height of 5 pieds 6 pouces (179 cm), blondish brown hair and eyebrows, receding hairline, grey eyes, long, open nose, large mouth, round, full chin and face.” Descriptions given in 1795 and cited in Les deniers montagnards (1874) by Jules Claretie.

Jean Lambert Tallien — Both a spy report written in 1794 found among Robespierre’s papers and Mme de la Tour du Pin, a noblewoman who met Tallien in late 1793, describe Tallien’s hair as blonde. Mme de la Tour du Pin adds that said hair was curly and that he had a pretty face.

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mickules · 2 years ago

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Or we'll give you a discount on your next visit; Guaranteed!

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Well what a year that was. and rounding it out with the long awaited finale to the Mob Psycho 100 anime certainly was a much appreciated way to see it off.

Please let me ring in the new year by indulging in some some future musings of the Sprits and Such Consultation staff, past and present.

Serizawa got his high school diploma from night school with flying colours (his mother's very proud), but never graduated from working part time at Spirits and Such. Now that he has his compulsory education complete, he studies subjects he enjoys - discovering that he likes learning really, he just didn't like the kids at his middle school.

Mob, on the other hand, was never too academic but his passion for athletics continues to grow (along with his height, stopping just shy of Serizawa). After high school he goes on to be a non-sponsored semi-professional athlete, working all kinds of odd jobs in the off season. When things get a little too lean, he's always welcome back to the office on an adhoc basis.

Ritsu, ever the overachiever, pursues higher education. Studying to pass the bar (to Reigen's concern) at one of the top universities in the country. A university which Shou may or may not have manipulated into accepting him on as a veterinary student. Despite their different disciplines Shou regularly sneaks into Ritsu's lectures using those powers he 'won't use anymore'.

Teru has no qualms utilising his powers. In addition to his responsibilities as a middle school teacher and in demand private tutor, he runs special afterschool sessions for ESPer children. He aims to establish his own ESPer friendly school one day. He has attended every single one of Mob's competitions.

Tome continued to secretary throughout high school, wheedling her way onto more on location exorcisms. Documenting her many supernatural encounters blossomed into a thriving career as a paranormal investigator, debunking fake phenomena alongside Hoshida Origo as her cameraman and co-author. Her first book was sold exclusively through the 'Spirit's and Such' website.

Dimple becomes the only true full time employee at the office becoming the 'Spirit' to Reigen's 'and Such'. After his and Reigen's mutual possession Reigen developed an ability to call out to Dimple as a means of summoning him. Meaning even when Dimple is enjoying his time visiting Mob, he can get the obnoxious equivalent of a spectral phone call when Reigen encounters a real spook. Dimple delights in ignoring such calls until the very last minute.

Reigen finds out, after a truly mortifying display at the now annual 'Spirits and Such New Year's Hike and Afterparty', that he is missing the enzyme needed to break down alcohol.

Happy New Year

#mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #shigeo kageyama #ritsu kageyama #shou suzuki #teruki hanazawa #tome kurata #dimple #post canon #I will not be normal about mp100 season 3 #mickules #mp100 headcanons #mp100 #happy new year to you and yours!

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ukiyowi · 1 year ago

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Channelled Messages 💌

Channelling messages from your: Future Spouse, Closest Friends, Spirit Guides, and Future Self

Note: Please DM me if you want a reading I am going to be putting a discount on all my readings because I am in a rough spot financially and need to pay money for my room which I was not aware of earlier and could be kicked out if I don't at the earliest. Book a reading || Tip me! (Ko-fi)

♡ Future Spouse

♡ Closest Friends

♡ Spirit Guides

♡ Future Self

Future Spouse

💌 Pile 1

My Love,

I imagine us walking hand in hand through the seasons of life, supporting each other through every victory and challenge. Together, we will create a collage of memories, painting the canvas of our shared life with love, laughter, and endless adventures.

I promise to be your biggest cheerleader, your confidant in times of doubt, and your unwavering support through thick and thin. I vow to cherish and respect you for the unique individual that you are, appreciating both your strengths and your vulnerabilities.

You are scarred right now but theres no reason to be. You are so filled with love and light and everything good, just because someone else cannot see it does not mean it doesnt exist. If I could bring you the moon and the stars I would in an instant. I don't think there has ever been or will ever be someone who is as bright as you.

Please take care of your health, you cannot make excuses for bad habits and keep living life like that, no matter how stressful work or life is please make time for yourself. We still have a while to meet so take care of yourself for both you and I.

Song: It's a Shame - The Spinners

💌 Pile 2

Hey Darling,

Our connection, I believe, will be deeper than words can express. It will be built on trust, respect, and a genuine desire to see each other flourish. While I can't predict the future, I am steadfast in my commitment to cherishing every moment we have together.

We have met before, I don't think you remember me, but I do. your beauty had me stunned and so did your mannerisms. I admire the way you carry yourself, with so much dignity and poise, as if the personification of grace itself were standing in front of me, sweeping me off of my feet.

I will shower you with anything you want, praise, adoration, gifts, love, time, energy, and be there whenever you need. Life is probably fun for you right now, unfortunately for me the road is a little rocky. Enjoy this time with your friends and family, your loved ones truly care about you and want what's best for you even if they can't articulate it well.

Stay strong butterflly and look for me in your dreams, I promise to be a frequent visitor. hope you likfe sunflowers, lillies, and magnolias angel.

Song: Mango bananas - Flyana Boss

💌 Pile 3

Hi sweetheart!!

I have a feeling that when we finally meet, there's going to be a bell that rings making us instantly know like it did in Your Name, also hope you like animation because I love it, I also really like drawing and art, do you? Please say yes!

Life seems to be going too fast for you right now so you need to make sure that you don't lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Calm down and do things you enjoy, maybe you'll like pottery!

But beyond the laughter and silliness, I want you to know that I'm dead serious about creating a remarkable life together. We'll support each other's dreams, even if they involve opening a cat cafe or becoming professional trampoline testers (hey, it's a thing, right?). We'll navigate the ups and downs of life hand in hand, and I promise to be your rock when you need it most.

Song: Glue Song - beabadoobee

xoxo

Closest Friends

💌 Pile 1

Life has been quite the rollercoaster lately, filled with its usual ups and downs. I've had my fair share of challenges, but there have also been some incredible moments that I wish I could have shared with you in person.

I often find myself reminiscing about the good old days when we used to spend hours talking and laughing about anything and everything . Those memories are some of my most cherished, and I truly miss you.

Please know that no matter where life takes us or how much time passes, you will always hold a special place in my heart. Your friendship has been a source of strength, laughter, and endless support, and I'm incredibly grateful for that.

Let's make a promise to catch up soon, whether it's over a cup of coffee or a long, heartfelt phone call. I genuinely look forward to hearing how you've been and sharing all the stories we've missed out on.

With love,

Initials may include: R, P, W, Q, L

Song: Window - Still Woozy

💌 Pile 2

Leaving behind the place we've called home for so long is both exciting and bittersweet. While new opportunities wait and adventures call, it's hard not to feel a tinge of sadness at the thought of being farther away from you.

Although physical distance may separate us, please know that you will always hold a special place in my life. Our bond is not defined by geography but by the strong connection we share.

And the internet exists so we'll be fine right? You promise to not lose touch with me even when we're both busy? I promise I will remember to call you, if not daily then weekly, please don't forget me.

I wish you could join me and we could embark on this together but life has its ways of separating the best people we've met so that we are forced to widen our horizons and social circles lol, hope it's not too much for either you or me.

Will miss you,

Initials pulled: A, J, M, S, K

Song: Missin something - Zach Templar

💌 Pile 3

I love the days we've shared and I wish to share so many more with you in the future, god I am so so so excited for everything thats to come!

Do you remember that time we decided to go on that impromptu road trip? No plans, no GPS, just a car full of snacks, good music, and an unshakable belief that we'd find our way eventually. We got lost more times than I can count, but it was so much fun and truly unforgettable.

And how about those late-night conversations that somehow turned into early-morning confessions? We've solved the world's problems over a cup of lukewarm coffee more times than I can recall. The neighbors must have wondered if we were running a 24-hour café.

As I sit here reminiscing about these and countless other memories, I can't help but smile. Our friendship has been a rollercoaster of laughter, silliness, and genuine connection. And I wouldn't trade a single moment of it for anything in the world.

Sending you a virtual high-five and a whole lot of fond memories, here's to hundreds more, and don't forget about the promise we made about the weddings okay?

Your platonic soulmate,

Initials may include: G, H, B, L, T

Song: Right Here, For Now - Bakar

xoxo

Spirit Guides

💌 Pile 1

Embrace change with an open heart and a curious mind. Life is a series of shifts and transitions, and it's in these moments of change that growth and self-discovery thrive. Trust in your ability to adapt and evolve, for you possess the resilience needed to navigate uncharted waters.

As you progress in your career, always remember that your passion and purpose are the compass that should guide you. Pursue work that aligns with your values and fulfills your soul. Don't be afraid to explore different paths and take calculated risks. Each experience contributes to your growth and wisdom.

Learning is a lifelong journey, and each lesson learned is a stepping stone to your personal and professional development. Stay committed to your goals, and never underestimate the power of continued learning.

There may be moments of doubt or uncertainty along the way, but listen to your heart's desires and the quiet whispers of your soul, for they will guide you toward your true purpose.

Above all, be patient and compassionate with yourself. Success is not defined by a straight path but by the lessons learned along the way. Embrace each setback as an opportunity to grow stronger and wiser.

Song: Everything Has Changed - Taylor Swift

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In matters of the heart, we see the longing in your soul for a deep and meaningful connection. First and foremost, we urge you to be patient with yourself. Love is a delicate dance, and it often takes time to find the right partner who truly understands and appreciates you.

As you seek love, remember the importance of self-love. Nurture your own well-being, both physically and emotionally. Don't be insecure about your quirks and imperfections, for they are the qualities that make you beautifully you. When you love yourself wholeheartedly, you become a magnet for the love you desire.

When it comes to romantic relationships, let go of preconceived notions and allow yourself to be pleasantly surprised. Love can appear in unexpected places and forms. Stay open to meeting new people and exploring connections that may not fit your usual "type." Sometimes, the greatest love stories are the ones that defy expectations.

Communication is the foundation of any healthy relationship. Be brave in expressing your feelings, needs, and desires. Equally important, listen to your partner with an open heart. True intimacy is born from understanding and genuine connection.

Whoever, you're thinking of, is not the one, set the standards high and do not settle for something that does not align with what you can give as well.

Song: Scared - Jeremy Zucker

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Know that you are never alone. We are always by your side, watching over you, and guiding you in subtle ways. We see your potential and your inner light, and we are here to help you recognize and nurture these gifts.

Trust in your intuition, for it is the voice of your soul and the channel through which we communicate with you. In times of uncertainty, turn inward and listen to the whispers of your heart, for they will lead you toward your true path.

Embrace the lessons that life presents, for they are opportunities for growth and self-discovery. Challenges are not obstacles but stepping stones on your journey to becoming the best version of yourself.

Surround yourself with positive influences and kindred spirits who uplift and support your journey. Let go of relationships that drain your energy and hinder your growth. Create a circle of love and support that nurtures your soul.

Find joy in the simple pleasures of life. Take time to savor a cup of tea, watch a sunrise, or feel the grass beneath your feet. These moments of presence are where true happiness resides.

Song: July - Noah Cyrus

xoxo

Future Self

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Darling, I cannot even start to tell you how good life is right now for me, and eventually for you. I know you are currently going through a rough patch, and as cliche as this sounds, I want you to know that every storm you're weathering now is bringing you closer to the sunshine that awaits you.

In my time, I've seen how the challenges you're facing today have shaped you into the resilient, compassionate, and wise person I've become. The setbacks you're experiencing are not roadblocks; they are stepping stones leading you to the life you've always dreamed of.

You may feel lost, uncertain, and at times overwhelmed, but trust me, these moments are your greatest teachers. They are guiding you towards a deeper understanding of yourself, your purpose, and the incredible strength that lies within you.

One day, you will look back on this period of your life and realize that it was a transformative journey, a cocoon in which you underwent a profound metamorphosis. You'll emerge from it stronger, wiser, and more in tune with your inner self.

The relationships you're nurturing now, the lessons you're learning, and the self-care you're embracing will all become pillars of the beautiful life that awaits you. You'll find yourself surrounded by a supportive and loving community that cherishes you for exactly who you are.

Song: See you Again - Tyler, The Creator

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I am sorry, but things are not going the way you would have hoped they would. However, rejection is just redirection, okay? Although things are looking rough for me right now, which, for you, is in the future, I want you to know that this tough phase will lead you to a place of strength and growth.

Life can be incredibly challenging at times, and I wish I could spare you from some of the hardships I'm currently facing. But remember, every setback, every disappointment, is an opportunity for growth and learning. It's through these tough moments that we discover our resilience and develop the wisdom to make better choices in the future.

I want you to hold onto hope, even when it feels like all hope is lost. Believe in yourself and your ability to overcome adversity. Surround yourself with supportive friends and loved ones who will help you weather the storm.

Stay patient and kind to yourself. It's easy to be critical during challenging times, but self-compassion is crucial. Treat yourself with the same love and understanding that you offer to others.

I am working on something thats a dream of ours right now, and I am seeing signs that it may end up succeeding soon or at least kick off, and I still love designing and art as much as you do right now, although I barely have time for myself right now.

Song: Not in that way - Sam Smith

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Okay, so maybeee we should reel it in a little with how much you are overworking yourself because it is having a bad effect on me, aka future you. Yep, I'm here to tell you that all those late nights, skipped meals, and stress-induced hair-pulling moments are not doing us any favors down the line.

I get it, you're hustling, chasing dreams, and making things happen in the here and now, and that's commendable. But trust me, I've been there, done that, and I can assure you that I'd appreciate a little less burnout and a lot more balance in our past.

You see, life isn't just about reaching goals; it's about enjoying the journey too. So, let's make a pact to take breaks, breathe deeply, and relish the simple pleasures. Remember, it's not all about the destination; the detours and pit stops are just as important.

And don't worry, I'm not trying to cramp your style here; I just want us to have the best possible adventures together, full of energy, laughter, and great stories. So, let's find that sweet spot where hard work meets self-care, and where the future "us" can look back and be happy about the past "you" for making wise choices.

Also please stop pulling all nighters its not doing any wonders for our skin, and even an extensive 10 step skincare routine does not do as much as a good nights sleep can.

Song: While we're yound - Jhene Aiko

xoxo

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