#to me this fic and oc is like teddy. complete and so fun to run through and a fandom i always come back to periodically
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Unovan Pokemon OC fic (based on the manga), featuring:
Exploring what happens to cochlear implants in the Pokemon world
Beep. Beep. Beep.
[Hint: NOT GOOD.]
Blake being scared of taco trucks
He was not keen on eating food from a place that would be gone the next day.
Jerry ignored him, pushing him toward the bright yellow truck that certainly could've been written up for parking in a no-park zone. But only Blake would know that, and so kept quiet.
Looker being terrible at being inconspicuous
"Hello, young man. I'd like to talk to you about a recent incident."
Jerry stared, mainly at his huge nose, plastic glasses, and even a plastic mustache. All attached to one prop.
The man wore a trenchcoat belonging to those of drug dealers, big leather shoes, and a strange fedora.
He also just came out of an alleyway.
"...."
Jerry's hand moved toward a pokeball.
Friendship?
Jerry looked up at the door, clearly listing whose inhabitants belonged.
Blake
Jerry
He twisted the doorknob, walked in, and—
"Oh! Hello!" Blake waved, in the middle of unpacking a box.
—closed the door, immediately walking away.
Not knowing what meat or dessert is
"Jerry, what food do you remember growing up?" Blake asked, looking up from his recipe booklet.
His gaze moved around, thinking, before saying "... I remember a slab of brown meat. And broccoli. And a whole apple."
"......"
"..... Dude, do you even know food terms?" Hugh made a face like that of a Swadloon.
Jerry stared at Hugh. Then, he whispered, "I don't know."
Looker is comic relief
"Young man, are you okay?"
He looked at Looker, and felt his stomach kick itself again. Bile rose up, and he ducked his head, immediately throwing up into the can.
Did he really have to look at me and throw up? Looker sweatdropped.
"Sorry.. I can't help it. You.. blugh.."
Looker, uncomfortable, looked away with a little sweat on his face. But he was mainly concerned, sticking a hand in his coat. "Goodness."
Listening to the boy's dry-heaving, he pulled out a pad of napkins and held it close enough that he could see it.
"Here. Wipe your mouth."
"HURK!!!"
#an old draft im getting rid of to empty stuff#a break from the current BNHA stuff im pumping out#to me this fic and oc is like teddy. complete and so fun to run through and a fandom i always come back to periodically#a student in the trainers school with lack-two and whi-two#lack-twos his roommate completely by lack-twos interference. because this kid legally does not exist. hes a ghost#hes also a potential lead to an important case so lack-two gets close. they become best friends#this draft is so old i forgot it existed#pkmn#pokemon#bw#bw2#oc#fic#spoilers#manga#lack-two#whi-two#blake#hugh#whitley#unova#theyre best friends and now lack-two is having a crisis over the fact he got too close#and now he cares too much for this criminal. fffuuuu-#i really like the pokemon manga#unova will always be my favorite region
1 note
·
View note
Text
Unexpected Benefits of Becoming a Swamp Witch (1)
AO3 link for those who prefer to read fics there.
I've said in the past that I have absolutely no intention of ever pairing Sans with anyone but Frisk, and I firmly stand by that. BUT, Llamagoddess's Sans, Red and Skull are so different from canon Sans, and her many AUs are so far removed from classic Undertale, that I've always seen them as OCs, from unique worlds that have little to nothing to do with Undertale. And Skull in particular is my favourite. Big, scary boi who's somft for his little waifu? Loving cuddle bug who adores his precious mate to the point of obsession? Giant teddy bear who wants nothing more than to hold his beloved close to his soul forever and ever, and stars help anyone who tries to get in his way? Yes please!!
Also, for all those who've read my fic Good Girl Needs Kiss, well here's that reader MC's infamous mother! It won't have any bearing on the plot, though, and is honestly just my own personal headcanons for that reader MC's parents, but there will be some fun little easter eggs here and there, along with some shared worldbuilding. I've actually got a couple of different ideas for who that witch!reader's father is, so I left him ambiguous, but mama witch has always been fully fleshed-out in my head, and I've finally decided to write about one of my favourite versions of GGNK!Reader's parents, using one of my favourite AUs from Llamagoddess. (Fair warning, MamaWitch!Reader is… kinda bitchy? And I've never written a MC who isn't nice and kind before. It was… interesting)
Again, you can treat this as its own, completely separate story if you want. Totally up to you.
Skull and Forest God AU belong to @llamagoddessofficial
______________________________________________
Chapter 1: Making a Choice
There were three forests for me to choose from. Well, technically there were two forests and a wetland which used to be a forest, but the latter was guarded by an ancient and powerful Forest God, and had plenty of ambient magic for me to tap into, so it was functionally similar to the other forests and would suit my needs just as well. Now, the question was: which of these would be my new home?
I’d been pondering the matter for a few days now, and had yet to decide. All three seemed like viable options, so I would need to carefully examine each one, to determine which of them would be the most suitable home for me. To that end, I’d sent out my two familiars to go investigate each of the forests thoroughly, while I took to the air on my enchanted broomstick, flying over each of the woods, and observing them from above.
I needed to be absolutely sure that I was happy with my final choice, because I wanted this home to be my permanent one. I was tired of having to constantly move, each time I’d get overwhelmed by suitors and harassed by enamoured clients.
This was all Mother’s fault.
I shook off my familiar annoyance, returning my attention to the dense forest canopy beneath me, as I soared over the trees on my broom. Making sure to stay above the treeline, and out of range of the local Forest God’s magic, I peered closely at the landscape whizzing past me down below.
Acres upon acres of tall, leafy, centuries-old trees met my eye, the very vision of a healthy forest. While I couldn’t see below the thick foliage, I could nevertheless hear the wildlife – insects and mammals scurrying, scuttling, and running around, the birds singing and calling to each other, some occasionally flying past me as they travelled from tree to tree.
All signs pointed to this forest being healthy and full of life, clearly well-maintained by its guardian deity. And most importantly for me, well-protected. Exactly what I was looking for. I felt confident that no trespasser with ill intent would be able to reach me, should I decide to settle here. Forest Gods were incredibly protective of their territories, and those inhabiting them, after all. I would finally get some peace.
The forest adjacent to this one was much the same, save for the trees at the very heart being petrified, the air saturated with some of the oldest magic I’d ever come across. An interesting place, for sure, and one well worth studying, should I decide to live there. And should its protector deity grant me safe passage. Most Forest Gods were unwilling to allow mortals to wander too close to their nests, but maybe I’d be able to bargain with this one? It was something to consider, at least.
The final “forest” was far different from the other two. I held a handkerchief over my nose as I flew above miles and miles of dark mud and peat, the horrid stench of death and rot permeating the entire area and practically assaulting my nostrils. It was certainly an unpleasant place, to say the least. I shuddered to imagine just how full of hatred and pain the resident God must be, for his territory to have ended up in such an abysmal state. There had to be a tragic story behind all this, and the dead husks of charred trees, barely visible through the ever-present thick fog, gave me an idea as to what it might be.
Against my will, I felt a pang of sympathy for the poor deity and his ruined home, before forcefully banishing such feelings. I had a mission to see through, and I couldn’t let myself get distracted by useless sentimentality. Life was harsh and cruel, for everyone, and mercy was for the foolish. I couldn’t afford to care about anyone but myself.
I was almost tempted to abandon my observation of the wetland, and give it up as a lost cause, when the land began to change. Dead bog eventually gave way to wet marsh, with cleaner water and richer soil, allowing for life to finally grow. A smile crept onto my face, as I saw plants covering the ground, and animals moving about the undergrowth. A flock of birds even joined me in the air after a while and called out to me, so I followed them deeper into the wetlands.
Finally, I reached the centre of the Wetland God’s domain – a swamp. The water was obviously very deep, but also clean, and full of aquatic life. Including alligators, I noted with interest. There were many fascinating potions I could brew with alligator teeth. Not to mention all of the incredibly rare and valuable swamp plants and herbs which grew in abundance here. My eyes practically sparkled, as I gazed around the misty swamp, my interest renewed.
There were also a great many trees, as expected of a Forest God’s domain – truly massive trees, their trunks thick and their branches wide, housing innumerable birds, mammals, reptiles, and insects. Something like hope sparked in my chest, but I was probably just imagining it. Still, it was very encouraging to see that the heart of this wetland was overflowing with life and magic, in spite of the desolate wasteland which surrounded it. A Forest God’s home should always be full of life.
As I was hovering beside the largest tree in the swamp, my eyes happened to spot a big, circular, red light shining in the mist. It almost resembled a giant eye, looking directly at me and seeming to stare straight into my soul. As if noticing my gaze, the eerie eye widened, its red light becoming brighter, and I felt the magic in the air shift. I took that as my cue to leave. I’d seen enough, anyway. No point lingering here and risk incurring the wrath of the Wetland God.
But as I flew away, a loud, mournful cry rang out behind me, echoing through the air and shaking the leaves on the trees below. Startled, I urged my broom to fly faster, and the cry eventually faded away into the distance. However, the haunting sound still lingered in my mind, along with that glowing, red eyelight.
Was that the Wetland God?
~~~
The following day, I arrived at the nearby town. It was fairly average in both size and appearance, but was nonetheless bustling with activity, and travellers and residents alike were milling around, going about their busy lives. I drew my cloak tighter around myself, and quickly made my way to the nearest inn.
Upon reaching my destination, I was greeted by a young woman, probably the innkeeper’s daughter, judging by the family photo hanging on the wall behind her. Her face lit up when I removed my travelling cloak, revealing myself to her, and she gave me a wide, vapid smile she probably thought was charming, and asked me if I was looking to rent a room. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes at her stupid question, because why else would I be here, I gave her a beguiling smile and seductively leaned in closer to her as I answered her.
“Why yes, I am. Would a sweet thing like you happen to have a room for a weary traveller such as myself? I’ve walked such a long way to get here, and I could really use a rest in a nice, comfy bed. I’d be so grateful to you if you could spare me a room, beautiful,” I’d lowered my voice to a smooth, silky drawl, and my honeyed words clearly had the effect I’d intended, given the way her eyes were glued to my lips, and how her breathing quickened.
She swallowed, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks, and smiled shyly at me. She then practically fell over herself to offer me one of the nicest rooms they had, at a generous discount. I held back a derisive snort. It was pathetic, really, how easily swayed she was by my supernaturally good looks and enchanting voice. This was nothing new, of course, but it still sickened me each time it happened. It was then just a simple matter of making tedious small talk with her for bit, before I finally steered the conversation towards the topic I’d been most interested in: the three magical forests.
For such an insipid creature, she was at the very least decently knowledgeable about the surrounding forests, and gave me all the information she had on them and their Gods. Much of it I’d already seen for myself, but it was useful to have confirmation from someone who’d actually lived in the area her whole life. She also confirmed my suspicions about the Wetland.
I didn’t have to feign genuine interest, as I listened to her tale of the God of the Black Wetland. Apparently, centuries ago, the Wetland used to be a beautiful forest, whose deity was relatively peaceful. But a group of humans from the nearby village wanted to clear it and weren’t happy with how he drove loggers away, so they took it upon themselves to burn the whole forest to the ground in one go. And they succeeded. In his rage, the Forest God killed the humans and flooded the entire area, including the village, transforming the landscape into an ugly, black bog.
From then on, he was known as the God of the Black Wetland, and had become a terrifying force of nature, who dragged anyone foolish enough to wander off the path, and into his domain, to a horrible, muddy and watery grave. The girl’s expression turned serious, as she warned me to avoid the Black Bog, and that if I absolutely had to go through there, that I should stick to the path at all costs. And should the fog begin to thicken, and I heard a bell ringing, then I needed to stay low, hold my breath, and pray that he didn’t see me.
I tried to look suitably fearful as I thanked her for her advice, while internally, I thought that anyone who was stupid enough to trespass on the territory of a Forest God whose home had been destroyed, deserved their fate. There was not a witch alive who would dare enter a God’s domain, without first being granted permission to do so. It was only common courtesy, after all. To disrespect a Forest God, was to invite calamity upon oneself, as my mother had once told me.
When I had gleaned all that I could from the girl, I thanked her with practised politeness, ignoring her flirting with the ease of habit, and made my way to my room. Upon reaching it, I went inside, locked the door behind me, and gave the place a casual glance. It was decently spacious, with a neatly-made bed, a desk, and a few shelves lining the walls. There was a window on one wall, which I went to open, casting a quick spell on the sill, to ensure that no one but myself and my familiars could enter through it.
That done, I tossed my bag on the desk, and collapsed onto the bed with a tired sigh. The bag landed with an inordinately loud * thump *, and the flap fell open, spilling several of my magical tools and arcane instruments across the desk, including a human skull. The skull rolled across the wooden surface, until it came to a stop by the edge, its dark, empty eye sockets staring right at me.
I glared at the skull. “This is all your fault, Mother.”
The skull didn’t answer me, of course. Not that I expected it to. I still had yet to perform the ancient ritual to bind Mother’s spirit to her skull, so that she could communicate with me from the afterlife. I just wasn’t ready to talk to her yet. I wasn’t sure I ever would be. I had a very... complicated relationship with her, after all.
My mother had been an incredibly powerful witch, supposedly the greatest mage of her generation. Her outstanding talents had won her the respect and admiration of her peers, few in number though they were, but had earned her the fear and hatred of the general populace. Not surprising, though, considering ordinary humans feared magic. Enough to have sealed away all of monsterkind underground, long ago. If mages, such as my mother, were not so useful to the common folk, perhaps we would’ve met the same fate as well. Perhaps one day we still might.
It was that very fear which had led my mother to cast numerous powerful enchantments on me, while I was still in her womb. All with the singular goal of making me as beautiful and desirable as possible. Mother had believed that if I were especially attractive, I would win the hearts of the non-magicals, and they would never turn on me or shun me as they had her.
And she’d succeeded. I was, by all accounts, visually stunning, with looks that turned heads wherever I went. Men and women from all around flocked to see me, showering me with gifts and compliments, in the hopes of earning my favour. There was not a single person who had anything but the most effervescent praise for my beauty.
And I hated it.
Because while I had indeed managed to catch the eye of every person I met, I despised such meaningless attention with a burning passion. Humans were nothing but shallow, despicable beings, and I very quickly grew to loathe their cloying desires and worthless, empty affections. None of these mindless fools truly cared about me, not a one bothered to see past my outward appearance, and look for the real me, inside.
And yet still they hounded me, harassed me, haunted me, begging for my attention like baying dogs. They kept insisting on throwing themselves at me, no matter how many times I threw them back out. It was tiresome. Tedious. I’d finally had enough of it, and decided to find a new home, in the territory of a protective Forest God, like many witches tended to do. Hopefully that would be enough to keep all of the nuisances away.
Perhaps I could’ve chosen to conceal my features, or disguised myself, maybe even tried to alter my appearance to something more ordinary. But I refused to hide or change myself. Why should I? I may not have chosen this body or this face, but they were nonetheless mine , and I would not hide them away just because of how other people reacted to them.
Besides, my mother had gone to a great deal of effort to give me these looks. And while I despised them, and resented her for what she’d done to me... I understood, at least on an intellectual level, why she’d done so. It would be unforgivably ungrateful of me to throw away all of her hard work. I was many things, but I wasn’t ungrateful. Not to my mother, the woman who’d given birth to me, raised me by herself, and taught me all she knew.
Therefore, instead of hiding my beauty, I chose to make use of it instead. If I were forced to suffer the consequences of my appearance, then I was determined to reap the benefits of it as well. And there certainly were many of those. People were such shallow, superficial creatures, after all. So easy to manipulate. It was child’s play, really.
But I wasn’t content to simply take advantage of my mother’s achievement. No, I had far grander ambitions than that.
Instead, I resolved to cultivate my own magical talents, and become a witch even greater than Mother, so that my powers and abilities would be my most notable trait, and all that anyone would talk about, rather than my physical appearance. I’d devoted myself to mastering witchcraft, and was proud to say that I was quite the accomplished mage and alchemist. I don’t know if I ever managed to surpass my mother, though. She died some years ago, all alone in her quiet little cottage in the woods.
I went back to my childhood home to give her a proper funeral, burying her in our ancestors’ sacred burial grounds, and taking her skull with me, as was tradition. I gathered all of her belongings, keeping those I found useful, disposing of or selling those I did not. A pitiful end for someone so infamous and talented.
Quietly, I rose from the bed and went over to the desk. With gentle hands, I picked up my mother’s skull and placed it on top of a nearby shelf, where those empty sockets could stare out at the entire room. My fingers lingered on the skull, tracing the edges of its mouth. Mother rarely ever smiled. I wondered if she’d ever known happiness, even once in her entire life...
I shook my head, dismissing such pointless thoughts. It was my own happiness I should focus on now. Which meant finding a suitable home. And to do that, I would need to find out more about all three forests. I looked towards the window. The sun was high in the sky; there was plenty of time to ask around and get the opinions of the locals who knew the forests the best. With that plan in mind, I left the room, locking the door behind me, and placing another spell on it to ward off intruders.
~~~
For the next several hours, I walked through the town, questioning people here and there, and listening in on the local gossip. It was mostly about some unwary travellers getting lost in the Black Bog a couple of weeks ago. They’d still not found the bodies, and no one was willing to go further into the bog to look for them, for fear of encountering the God of the Wetlands. Cowards, the lot of them. But I supposed that I couldn’t really blame them. I wouldn’t risk my life either, to go looking for fools too stupid to live.
As I passed by the local tavern, I heard raucous laughter coming from inside. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. I lifted an eyebrow as I sensed ancient, wild magic coming from within the tavern, the kind of magic that definitely didn’t belong in the middle of a human settlement. The kind of magic I’d sensed just the other day. Curious, I opened the door and peeked inside.
The tavern was surprisingly busy for this time of day, and there was a large crowd by the bar, louder and rowdier than they had any right to be before sundown. I hovered by the door, hesitant to go in any further with so many noisy people inside. I hated crowds- well, I hated people , really, but crowds were a special kind of dreadful I tried my best to avoid. I pulled the cowl of my cloak lower on my head, as I discreetly looked around for the source of the forest magic.
My eyes soon met a pair of bright, red ones. I blinked, taken aback. The red eyes were set in a handsome, seemingly human face, but I wasn’t fooled by the illusion. Any witch worth her salt would be able to sense the aura of a Forest God from a mile away, and I’d already flown over the forest belonging to this one just yesterday. I recognised him for what he was instantly.
The disguised deity looked equally surprised to see me. His red eyes widened, with what I could almost assume was recognition, before they roved across my form, something disturbingly familiar flashing in them, as they traced along my face. I couldn’t hold back my sneer, revulsion bubbling up within me like molten magma. He was... interested in me! Not in exactly the same way humans were, perhaps, but close enough to make me want to hex him.
It was with no small amount of distaste that I noticed how he was the centre of attention, with all eyes turned towards him, and everyone smiling and laughing at his crude jokes, all of the patrons hanging onto his every word. Several pretty ladies were even pressed up against him, giggling like they hadn’t a thought in their heads but to share his bed, and the arms curled around them only seemed to encourage their pathetic simpering.
Bitter disappointment welled up within me. I had thought that Forest Gods were above such abhorrent behaviour. It seemed I was wrong. They were just as susceptible to human weaknesses and mortal failings, as any other miserable worm on this planet.
The disgrace of a Forest God shot me a roguish wink, which I returned with the most hateful glare I was capable of, endeavouring to put every ounce of disgust I felt for him into the look, and causing his grin to falter. Without hesitation, I turned my back to him and strode out of the tavern. I heard a deep, masculine voice call out to me, but I slammed the door on it, shutting out that nonsense forever.
~~~
When I returned to my room, I immediately took out the sheet of paper containing the information I’d gathered on the three forests, and furiously crossed out everything pertaining to the forest governed by the shameful wretch I’d seen in the tavern. I would never live in his domain, I vowed to myself.
Luckily, I still had two other forests to choose from. I desperately prayed that their Gods were more respectable than this one. But I would need to know more about them to ascertain that. Hopefully, my familiars had been able to properly explore both of the forests, and would be able to help me figure out which one would be the best choice for my new home.
As if on cue, a brown owl glided soundlessly through the open window, and landed on top of Mother’s skull, followed shortly by a black cat, padding her way through the shadows towards me, before stretching out her lithe body across my bed.
“Artemis,” the cat blinked her eyes slowly at me in greeting, “Hermes,” the owl bowed his head respectfully to me, “I’ve ruled out the forest of the Red God as a possibility. Forget about that one. So, what have you two found out about the other two?”
Artemis tossed her head back and yowled at me. All that time... wasted! Should’ve let me know... sooner... her voice echoed through my head.
I rolled my eyes, well used to her whining. Missy was such a diva. If I didn’t love her so much, I would’ve dispelled the enchantment allowing us to communicate telepathically, long ago.
Hermes, on the other hand, merely bowed his head to me once more, acknowledging my orders, before launching into his report. The Green Forest is full of life. Trees. Mushrooms. Moss. Prey. Not prey. Predators. Fae. Spirits. Magic. Lots of magic.
Artemis flicked her tail. Lots of... interesting smells... plenty of food... so many good places... to nap...
I snorted, shaking my head lightly. Of course Missy would only focus on the things she would enjoy. At least Hermes was more helpful.
“And what of its resident Forest God?” I asked them.
Hermes’s reply came swiftly. Always moving. Always roaming. Always protecting. Only still at the heart. Stone trees. Old magic. Soft moss. Cold. Quiet. Clear.
Hmm... So he too enjoyed his peace and quiet? Looks like we might actually be able to get along. I felt the spark of hope ignite in my chest at the thought.
Artemis stretched out her front paws, kneading the bed covers beneath her. He put colourful bottles... in the trees... they cast pretty shadows... for me to chase...
I hummed to myself, going over what they’d told me in my head and adding it to the information I’d already collected. So far, this forest seemed promising. But I couldn’t be too hasty with my decision. Besides, there was also the other one to consider.
I turned to my two familiars. “And what about the Black Wetlands?”
Surprisingly, Artemis was the first to answer me, as she let out an angry hiss, her tail flicking to and fro in agitation. Smells bad... So wet! *Hiss* The mud gets stuck... in my fur... on my paws... hate it...
I gave her a sympathetic look, going over to her to run my fingers through her silky, pitch-black fur in a comforting caress. She pressed her head into my hand and began purring.
Hermes clicked his beak in annoyance, but made no further protest. Instead, he drew himself up imperiously, and puffed out his chest feathers. On the edge there’s only Black bog. Burnt trees. Foul water. Dead. All dead. But closer to the heart there’s more life. More green. Less black. The heart is swamp. Tall trees. Deep water. Many animals. Lots of life. Lots of magic.
I nodded to myself. I’d observed much the same myself.
Artemis sneezed. Didn’t see... couldn’t get past... the nasty mud.. .
I smiled at her in reassurance. “That’s all right, Missy, I know you tried your best. I’m very proud of you.”
When Hermes clicked his beak again, I turned my smile towards him. “And thank you for your diligence, Hermes! I’m so glad I can always count on you.”
The tan owl puffed out his feathers again, preening at my praise. Always, Mistress .
Artemis gave him an unimpressed look, her ears twitching. Thankfully, she turned away from him without comment. I let out a quiet sigh of relief, glad that an argument hadn’t broken out between them. Again.
Wanting to get the conversation back on track, I cleared my throat. “So then, what’s the Forest- uh, the Wetland God like?”
Hermes tilted his head to the side. Angry.
He then tilted his head to the other side. Very angry .
I frowned. “I don’t blame him. His entire forest was burnt to the ground by humans centuries ago, after all. He pretty much lost everything. I’d be absolutely livid myself, if I were him.”
Artemis curled up once more on the bed, tucking her paws underneath her and wrapping her tail around herself. He’s not just angry... and vengeful... and full of hate... Birds came to me... and told me... he’s lonely... very lonely...
Her words made me recall the loud, mournful wail I’d heard that morning. That probably was him, then, calling out to me. I’d initially thought it was a warning, to chase away intruders, but now I suspected it might’ve been the opposite. Was the Wetland God actually... upset that I’d left? Was he, maybe, calling out for me, asking me to come back? It seemed ludicrous, honestly. He was an ancient and powerful Forest God, whose mind and heart were unknowable to mortals, whereas I was a mere human, albeit a magical one. And yet, now that I really thought about it, I realised that he’d actually sounded sad... really sad...
My thoughts were interrupted by Hermes’s voice ringing in my head. Which forest will you choose, Mistress?
“Hmm... Good question.” My brows furrowed as I paced back and forth across the small, rented room, my head bowed in deep thought as I mulled over both my options.
The Green Forest was the obvious choice. A lush, vibrant forest, teeming with life, and guarded by a fairly peaceful deity, who mostly kept to himself. The ideal home for a solitary witch seeking to hone her craft. Definitely more appealing than a misty swamp, surrounded by sickly, smelly bog, and patrolled by an unstable, vengeful Old God.
My decision should’ve been clear. And yet...
… he’s lonely... very lonely...
Missy’s words wouldn’t leave my mind, despite my best efforts to chase them away. What should it matter to me if some Wetland God was lonely? His problems were not mine, his pain was not mine, his loneliness was not mine.
… he’s lonely... very lonely...
Without conscious thought, my eyes found the hollow sockets of my mother’s skull. She’d been lonely as well, for most of her life. And she’d died lonely, too. Had she ever cried out for someone, anyone, to help her, only for nobody to come? Had she ever cried out for me?... Had the Wetland God?
… he’s lonely... very lonely...
I went to my satchel, still splayed open across the desk, and took out a small, glass orb. It wasn’t anything special, had no magical properties whatsoever, and was nothing more than a cheap, simple ball made out of coloured glass, pretty, but ultimately useless. Something I was determined to never be. The only reason I even had this orb, was because it had once belonged to my mother.
She’d had many such trinkets, scattered throughout her house, but this one was her favourite. As a child, I’d often caught her gazing into the orb, lost in thought. I’d asked her why she did so, despite the orb having no practical use, and she’d told me that looking at it helped her to focus, as she pondered whatever problem occupied her mind at the time. I’d once jokingly called it her “Orb of Pondering”, and she’d given me one of her rare smiles. I guess it wasn’t so useless after all.
I now gazed into the orb myself, as I pondered my own current predicament. Which shouldn’t have even been a predicament in the first place. The choice should’ve been an easy one to make. The answer should’ve been plain for all to see. I should’ve just picked the Green Forest and been done with this deliberation. I would have an easier, simpler life there. My familiars would be happier there. It was beautiful. Untainted. Perfect.
… he’s lonely... very lonely...
With a resigned sigh, I lowered Mother’s orb and turned towards my familiars, still patiently awaiting my final decision. Plastering my brightest smile on my face, I forced as much enthusiasm into my voice as I could, as I told them, “You know, I think becoming a swamp witch sounds like a lot of fun!”
Predictably, Artemis was none too happy with my answer, and yowled out her displeasure for all the world to hear. Hermes, however, merely bowed his head obediently, accepting my decision without complaint.
As I tried my best to appease my feline familiar with chin scratches, I silently wondered if I had made the right choice. I hoped that I would not come to regret it.
~~~
The next morning, I woke up bright and early to carry out my preparations for obtaining the Wetland God’s permission to reside in his domain. For starters, I wrote up a letter explaining my request, making sure to keep my tone and words as respectful and humble as possible, and providing many reassurances of good behaviour, all while avoiding making any outright promises. You could never be too careful with Old Gods. I then imbued the letter with my magic and my intent, so that the ancient deity would be able to sense my sincerity for himself, as well as get a feel for my character before we officially met.
Once I was satisfied that the letter was properly saturated in my magic, I handed it to Hermes, informing him of its contents, just in case the Wetland God was unable or unwilling to read it, and instructed the owl to deliver it directly to its intended recipient as swiftly as possible, and to return only once he’d received a definitive answer. Hermes dutifully bowed his head, took the letter very delicately in his beak, and flew off into the sky.
Afterwards, it was only too easy to charm the inn’s cook into letting me borrow his kitchen for a few hours. He’d tried to remain close to me, invading my personal space under the guise of “helping” me, but a threatening hiss and swipe of her paw from Artemis were enough to get the filth away from me. The black cat remained curled around my shoulders, fixing her large, golden eyes on the nuisance and occasionally flexing her sharp claws at him, to keep him a safe distance away from me as I worked.
I wasn’t sure what offerings the Wetland God would enjoy, but most Forest Gods were not averse to homecooked food, and most Fae had quite the sweet tooth, with a particular fondness for honey, so I decided to bake him a large honey cake, with buttercream icing and a honey drizzle. It was something my mother had often baked for the Forest God whose territory she resided in, and she’d taught me the recipe as a child. It was one of my happier memories with her.
The rich, sugary smell which soon filled the kitchen brought on a wave of nostalgia. Instead of quashing the feelings, as I normally did, I allowed myself to reminisce for a while. My childhood home was always filled with the most interesting aromas, whether it was food, potions, or magical residue from the spells Mother cast. She really was quite the talented witch. I’d learned so much from her.
When the cake was done, I wrapped it up neatly, placing an enchantment on it to keep it warm and fresh, and carefully packed it away in my carry bag. That done, I changed into formal sorcerer’s robes, and spent some time preening in front of the mirror, to ensure that I looked as presentable as possible. I wanted to make a good first impression, after all, and while it was unlikely that my human appearance would be able to sway a Forest God’s opinion, it didn’t hurt to look my best. Besides, old habits died hard.
Finally, all that was left to do was to pack up all of my belongings. Hermes returned as I was putting away Mother’s skull, and informed me that the Wetland God had accepted my request. Instantly. Gladly. Very gladly. In fact, he seemed positively giddy about me coming to live in his domain. Well, that was... a surprise. But a welcome one, to be sure. Better than the alternative, anyway. I guess he really must’ve been very lonely, for him to be so excited for some company. It gave me hope that the two of us might be able to have an amicable relationship.
My lips subconsciously tugged up into a smile, as I pet Hermes’s tan feathers, my mind on the Wetland God. I’d never had a friend before. My familiars didn’t count, they were bonded to me and my magic for the rest of our shared lives – they were practically an extension of myself. I looked forward to getting to know my new ‘landlord’. Quietly, privately, in the depths of my heart, I hoped that he would grow to like me. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who was lonely...
When everything was packed up and put away, Artemis draped herself around my shoulders once more, her tail curling lightly around my neck, like a black, fluffy necklace. Hermes perched himself on the crooked tip of my tall, pointed, witch’s hat, his head constantly swivelling around to survey his surroundings, ever watchful, ever alert. I gave the room a once-over, checking that I’d gathered everything, and made my exit.
I didn’t check out of the inn just yet, however. I needed a safe place to return to, on the off chance that things turned sour with the Wetland God. You could never be too careful, after all, and it always paid to have contingency plans for every possibility. Better to be safe than sorry.
Once I’d found a clear spot, I took out my broom, sat myself on it, and kicked off the ground, shooting through the sky like a comet. With the wind rushing past me, and my robes billowing behind me, I left the town and made my way towards my new home and the beginning of my new life.
~~~
I landed on the very edge of the bog. Getting off my broom, I kept it firmly in one hand, ready to get back on it and fly away at the first hint of danger. I took a deep breath and instantly regretted it, as a rotten stench assailed my nose. Coughing and spluttering, I retrieved my handkerchief and covered my nose as best as I could, trying to breathe through my mouth. Around my neck, Artemis grumbled irritably, her furry lips pulled back in a grimace at the foul smell in the air.
Not wanting to spend any longer here than necessary, I stepped foot inside the bog.
The place was even creepier from the ground than it was from the sky. Dark, viscous mud covered the ground, save for the patches of slimy, black water dotted here and there, with only the gnarled, dead trees managing to rise up from the sludge. Mosquitos seemed to be the only creatures living in the bog, their constant buzzing the only sound I could hear, apart from the squelching of my boots as I trudged through the mud. It was also difficult to see anything past the thick fog blanketing the entire area.
The whole place was like something straight out of a nightmare. It was a rather daunting experience, honestly. But I knew that it got better. I just needed to press on and stay determined.
And so, I kept walking, keeping to the well-trodden path and the narrow wooden walkways, all while keeping my eyes and ears open for any sign of the Wetland God. Occasionally, I flared out my magic, just to let any extramundane entities who might be nearby know that I was here. After a short while of doing so, I felt an answering burst of ancient, otherworldly magic, far, far in the distance, coming from the centre of the wetlands. I paused. Then it came again, slightly closer.
The God of the Black Wetland knew I was here. And he was coming towards me. Hopefully to give me a friendly greeting, and not to chase me away. Or worse.
I stayed still, drawing my cloak tighter around myself to ward off the chill in the air, and cast my eyes around warily, as I waited for the deity to arrive with bated breath. I didn’t have to wait long.
Soon, the fog began to thicken, until I could barely see past my own nose, and distantly, faintly, I could hear the gentle chiming of bells, steadily getting louder. I stood up straighter, my heart racing in anticipation, and gripped my broom tighter. Both of my familiars were equally on high alert, ready to react at a moment’s notice.
Suddenly, the shadows began to shift, something moving through the fog, something truly massive. I held my breath, my heart pounding in my ears, as the figure finally came into view, the fog parting around him.
It was, without doubt, a Forest God, although one unlike any I’d ever seen before. While the others I’d known had all had bodies more or less closely resembling various animals, this one had a gigantic, stocky body, with a solid, downward sloping spine with jagged vertebrae, and long, thick, straight legs like tree trunks, clearly designed for wading through mud and water. Its head was a huge dog skull, sporting enormous moose antlers, wider than I was tall.
What really caught my attention, though, was the large, red eye glowing in the skull’s left eye socket. It was the same eyelight I’d seen the other day, in the swamp. That red eyelight was now fixed unwaveringly on me.
I swallowed, gathered my courage and addressed the ancient and powerful deity staring right at me. “Greetings, oh Wetland God. I am the one who sent you the letter this morning – the witch seeking to make her home in your swamp, with your permission. It is an honour to meet you, Old One.”
That crimson stare intensified. “ i know you... ” I gave a start as a deep, rumbling voice issued forth from the Old God, harsh, halting, and seeming almost rusty from disuse. “ i saw you... before... but you left.. .” The red eyelight shook, shrinking, before expanding once more, to take up the entire socket. “ i was so... so happy... when i got your letter... i recognised... your magic... your scent... ” The red light got brighter, lighting up the entire area like a blazing fire. “ you will stay with me... your owl said... that you’ll stay with me... you WILL stay with me... right?... forever... right?... ”
I nodded hesitantly. “That’s the idea, yes. I hope to make this place my home. My forever home, if you will.”
The Wetland God made a low, bellowing sound, followed by a couple of sharp trills, his colossal body swaying slightly. Bygone magic filled the air, buzzing against my skin, and making the hairs on my arms and on the back of my neck stand on end. Small strands of green began sprouting up from the mud, and the murky water started to clear. A few tiny blossoms even popped up along the deity’s legs and antlers.
While I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of such a reaction, I took it as a good sign. I was at least confident that the God wasn’t displeased with my presence here. If anything, the magic saturating the air was tinged with what felt distinctly like excitement. Definitely a good sign.
I cleared my throat. “I take it that I am welcome here, then. If so, would you be so kind as to let me know where I am permitted to make my home?”
In response, the towering being lowered his head to the ground in front of me. “ i will... take you home... ”
I blinked, not certain if I’d heard him right, or if I was misunderstanding his intention. “Do you mean for me to... climb onto your head?”
“ yes... ” came his reply, not even a hint of hesitation in his voice. Unlike mine, which was filled with uncertainty, as I nodded to him, “As you... wish.”
I was far from comfortable getting so close to such an incredibly old and powerful deity, but I wasn’t about to refuse a direct order from him. With slow and tentative movements, I climbed on top of his massive skull and sat myself in between those wide and solid antlers.
When he was sure that I was securely sat on his head, the Wetland God very gently lifted his skull, seeming to take great care to not jostle me about, as he straightened up and carefully strode off through the bog. His gait was surprisingly steady, despite the deep mud he was wading through, and my ride was pleasantly smooth.
It was quite the novel experience. I’d never heard of a Forest God allowing a mere mortal to actually ride on them, like some common beast of burden. It was a great honour, honestly, and I made sure to savour every second of it. I’d likely never get another opportunity like this again, so I had to make the most of this one while it lasted.
Leaning forward slightly, I placed a hand on the surface of the skull, taking a brief moment to appreciate the cool and smooth bone-like texture of the God’s head, before addressing him. “Mighty Wetland God, I wish to thank you for allowing me to live in your domain. I will endeavour to never make you regret your decision. And I sincerely hope that the two of us will get along well.”
His crimson eyelight seemed to fuzz around the edges, and I watched in amazement as a soft, pink hue spread across his muzzle. Was... was he blushing ? He couldn’t be, surely. That was impossible... Right?
“ i would never regret... you living with me... ” he sounded completely sure of himself. I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering where such confidence came from. “ and i promise... to make you happy... here... with me... ” I sucked in a sharp breath at his vow, feeling completely bewildered as to why a Forest God would make such a promise, and to a mortal, some human he’d only just met. What, by the stars , was this deity thinking?
I cleared my throat, trying to calm my racing thoughts and keep a cool head. “I’m, uh, incredibly flattered by your... kindness. Thank you, My Lord.”
“ ... skull... ”
My brows furrowed at the seemingly random word. “Skull?”
His definitely-not-a-blush darkened slightly, spreading further across his snout. “ yes... ” he told me, his voice deep and heavy, yet quiet and almost shy. “ that’s my... my name... ”
I exhaled heavily, something like awe flowing through me. I could hardly believe my ears. Had a Forest God really just given me his name? That was... that was... unexpected , to put it mildly. Old Gods did not give out their names lightly – it was a privilege, one which you had to earn. So for this one to simply volunteer his name, without my even having to ask it of him...
I stared at the top of his skull in disbelief. Why? Why would he do such a thing? I wasn’t anyone important. Not to an Old God, at least. So then, why would he give me his name so freely? What had I done to deserve such an honour?
As I puzzled over these questions, the scenery began to change, from bog to marsh. I frowned in confusion. Wasn’t the bog far wider than this? Why had we already reached the marsh? This was too soon. We should still have been wading through several more miles of barren wasteland.
And then my eyes fell upon an even more startling sight.
What had only recently been waterlogged soil, was now practically a flower garden. Thousands of tiny, colourful, low-lying marsh flowers spread out as far as the eye could see, interspersed with twisting, winding, glittering waterways.
As I watched in stunned silence, I noticed more and more flowers blossoming. I could also sense just how steeped in Life Magic the earth was, encouraging the growth of plants and causing flowers to bloom every second. Even the wildlife was benefitting from the ancient magics, as more and more birds flocked to the marsh, and more fish and amphibians swam in the crystal-clear waters.
Life was well and truly returning to the wetlands.
I was astonished at such a dramatic transformation, in such a short amount of time. “Skull... This is incredible... What happened here since I last saw it?”
Skull came to a stop, allowing me to admire the natural beauty surrounding us. Several birds flew closer, clearly with the intent of landing on the Wetland God’s antlers, but Hermes spread his wings wide and screeched threateningly at them, and they flew away in a hurry.
“ i wanted to... make our home nicer... for you... you deserve... a nice home... ” I wanted to gape at him, but managed to restrain myself. Then his voice lowered, a hint of shame leaking into it “ i’m sorry... you saw it... so ugly... so sick... i’m trying hard... to make it better... for you... ”
I was speechless for a while, as my brain struggled to process what I’d heard. Had Skull been terraforming his domain since he received my letter? Or maybe even, ever since he first saw me? That... that was... “Wow. I-I don’t know what to say... Thank you, Skull. You did an amazing job. The place looks beautiful. And very lively.”
Skull made a pleased sound, the ambient magic fairly thrumming with its Wetland God’s joy, and several more tiny flowers bloomed on the deity’s horns. Skull then resumed his walk, taking us further into the heart of his territory, until we eventually reached the very centre.
The swamp at the heart of the wetlands hadn’t changed since I was last here. Not surprising, considering it was likely a lot older than the rest of the wetlands, and would therefore take more time to change. But it was still an impressive sight.
Alligators swam alongside us, eyeing me curiously, and Skull rumbled something to them in a language I couldn’t understand. Whatever it was, it seemed to have made them happy, given their own, excited rumblings. More birds flew closer, and were again scared off by Hermes.
I rolled my eyes in fond exasperation at how territorial my owl familiar was of me. I was his home and his family, and he would allow no other bird near me. Artemis, meanwhile, remained curled around my neck and shoulders, glaring at the alien landscape, and grumbling about the humidity and the bizarre odours.
The sun was starting to set, tinting the enveloping mists in soft hues of pink and orange. Fireflies had also begun to appear, gradually filling the air with their tiny lights. I could hear the croaking of frogs, the buzzing of insects, and the singing of birds, all blending together with the sloshing of water, in a mesmerising harmony of sounds. I couldn’t help but sit back and listen to the song of the swamp.
It was all wonderfully atmospheric. Romantic, even. I snorted lightly, dismissing the ridiculous thought. Romance had no place in my life.
We finally came to a stop in front of what had to be the biggest tree in the whole swamp, standing at the very centre of the entire Wetland. It really was a giant among trees, taller and wider than any other I’d ever seen, stretching so high into the sky, I couldn’t see the top. A hollow had formed inside it, rising above the water level, and wide enough that I suspected even Skull might be able to fit inside, if he curled himself up.
There was a lip of wood at the entrance of the hollow, and it was to there that I hopped, when Skull lowered his head, a clear indication that I should disembark.
Inside the hollow, I found it lined with piles of pillows and blankets, and heaps of little trinkets. The entire alcove smelled of fur and incense, and even faintly of beeswax. It looked... cosy. Surprisingly cosy, and homey. Did someone live here?
I turned towards Skull, who was stood just outside the hollow, staring at me intently. “What is this place? Where did all this stuff come from?”
The corners of Skull’s jaws raised up in something resembling a smile. “ my nest... ” my eyebrows fairly flew into my hairline at that shocking revelation. I could never have guessed that the Wetland God would take me to his nest . But Skull wasn’t done blindsiding me yet. “ now OUR nest... i tried to make it better... for you... i added softer... and prettier blankets... and pillows... all for you... my lovely wife... ”
I choked on my spit at that last word. “W-Wife?!” my voice rang out in a strangled yell. My mind came crashing to a halt, because seriously... I must have misheard him. Surely he hadn’t meant to call me his wife .
But Skull only smiled wider, blushing once more, and nodded his massive head. “ yes... my wife... my lovely, little wife... my darling mate... ”
I thought my heart was about to stop. I could barely breath, as thoughts rushed through my head at breakneck speed, my brain desperately trying to come up with some kind of explanation for Skull’s inconceivable behaviour. Just how had he come to believe that I was his wife ? Had I done something, anything which could’ve led the Wetland God to think me his mate? I wracked my mind for any kind of plausible reason for this huge misunderstanding, but could find none.
“ so small... so soft... so pretty... such a sweet smell... such strong magic... ”
Had Hermes in any way intimated such a thing to Skull when they’d spoken? As soon as the thought came, I dismissed it. No, my loyal owl familiar would’ve followed my instructions to the letter. He was dutiful to a fault, and would never go against my orders, or do anything that wasn’t strictly in my best interests. And he rarely, if ever, acted on his own initiative, more content to await my commands. He would never have so much as implied, to the Wetland God, that I was interested in being anything more than a simple resident of his domain.
A noise rumbled from deep within Skull’s chest, one that sounded disturbingly like a purr. “ i’m so happy... you came... i’m so happy... you accepted me... i’m so... so happy... ”
And he sounded it, too. I glanced up at him, taking in his undeniably joyful countenance. He definitely looked happy, too. I bit my lip. This... this was a disaster. This unstable Forest God, whose home I was to live in, was woefully mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. As such, I would need to correct his misconception, immediately.
I braced myself and opened my mouth-
“ i knew... from the moment... our eyes met... that you were... the one... ” Skull’s voice rumbled like boulders tumbling down a mountain, and yet there was something... soft in the way he spoke to me. Something tender, and warm. Something I’d never heard from anyone else before.
“ the one... i’d been waiting for... all my life... ” The blood-red glow of his eyelight softened, the pupil at its centre becoming heart-shaped, as Skull’s gaze remained fixed on me, never wavering for even a second. It was a look I’d never seen before. One full of awe and adoration. Skull looked at me as if I was the most precious thing in his world. “ i was... so lonely... but not anymore... not now that... i have you... ”
He sighed, a warm gust of wind which rustled my robes and tousled my hair. “ i’m so happy... that you’re here... with me... ” He let out a sharp trill, ending in a deep purr. “ i promise... to make you... happy too... i want you... to love me... as much as... i love you... my mate... ”
I stared at Skull’s loving face, his gaze so full of affection, for me. My mouth was still open, ready to deny being his mate and clear up this whole mess. “I-I... can’t wait...!” was what came out instead. I winced, mentally kicking myself for saying something so stupid.
Skull’s expression brightened. His purring intensifying, he leaned his head close and pressed the end of his snout against me. “ my wife... my mate... so warm... so soft... i love you... so much... ”
And instead of doing anything even remotely sensible, such as telling this deranged deity that I was most certainly not his wife, I just lifted my hands up to his head, and ran my hands all along his hard muzzle, petting his skull as if he were an overgrown puppy.
As Skull continued to purr, making low, muffled sounds of contentment, the magic around him hummed and shuddered, causing tiny flowers to bloom all around us. I shivered, as the Wetland God’s ancient magic brushed up against me, like a cat demanding attention, and released my own magic into the air, allowing it to mingle with his. Skull purred louder, the vibrations sinking into my very bones. Admittedly, it was actually quite a pleasant sensation.
I sighed. Oh well... This wasn’t an entirely terrible situation. It could’ve been a lot worse, all things considered. Besides, Skull would probably snap out of whatever bout of insanity was currently consuming him, and return to his senses in no time.
His infatuation with me was only temporary, and would soon fade away.
…Right?
__________________________________________
This wasn't supposed to be this long. It was supposed to be a oneshot. But I just cannot seem to write a reader-insert without constantly adding more and more and more, until it balloons into several far-too-long chapters. But this will be a twoshot (with a short epilogue)! It WILL!! I REFUSE to let this drag on for more than two chapters! I have other things to do! Other WIPs that demand my attention! So there will be ONE more chapter, almost entirely comprised of fluff, with Skull being a soft boi, reader discovering her inner soft gurl, and her two familiars being literally soft. And then a short epilogue (which will basically just be a fun bonus for those who've read "Good Girl Needs Kiss").
See you guys for the second (and definitely last!) part.
Chapter 2
#JMB writes#skull x reader#forest god au#forest god skull#reader is a witch#reader is... not nice#skull is baby#skull deserves all the hugs and all the kisses#witch familiars#reader's kryptonite is affection#something Skull gives LOTS of#reader has a personality#and some backstory#this is what happens when you decide to write a story starring a background character from another story#author has NO self-control
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
Congratulations on 100 followers!! For the normal asks #2 and 17! For the weird asks #5, 12, and 17! And for the OC asks (for Amari) 🎭 🌋 🧸
~ shethereadinghobbit
Hi hun! Thank you so much for participating in my sleepover! It means alot to me and I hope you had fun with it! 😊😊🥰
So I’ll answer all these in like 1 post! Let’s do this! 🥳
Normal ask:
2. What’s your top 5 songs at the moment and why?
So all these songs help me focus on myself both physically (cuz I am trying to keep myself motivated for working out: Run This Town by Rihanna ft. JAY Z ), emotionally (like knowing its ok to be will be ok and that I am not alone: Somebody Loves you by Jeremy Zucker, Put your records on by Corinne Bailey Rae or the cover by Ritt Momney, and Real Love by Jess Glynn) and mentally, (like driven to reach my goals: Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi )
17. What’s your favourite city and why?
OOOOH HARD QUESTION… I would say I have 2, one domestically and one internationally (I know I’m cheating but these are long answer prompts so I shall do that lol!) Domestically it is Chicago. I was raised here so I have pride for my city. Internationally, Barcelona, Spain. I’d worked there for a bit and I made a lot of friends that are like family to me, and I learned a lot about sustainability there.
Weird ask:
5. Do you like being barefoot?
I’d answered this before but! It’s a question I like answering lol. It depends; if I’m walking on carpet or I’m at the beach, I like walking barefoot because it feels easier to walk- almost like if you’re swimming it's better and easier than if you had water shoes. But if it's on marble or hardwood, I don’t like going barefoot cuz it’s so cold! Especially on winter mornings! Also, I don’t like the sound (I know, it’s weird. But this is a weird ask lol!)
12. Favourite day of the week?
I’d also answered these previously but my favorite day of the week is MONDAAAAY! (the epitome of what makes me weird lol!) It’s a very forgiving day in terms or work; like there’s a learning curve when you come back to work and you get to see your work friends again!
17. Thoughts on the moon?
Hmmm… not much except when I do think of the moon, the first thing that comes to mind is Bruno Mars’ song Talking to the Moon. So I guess, unintentionally, I get a sad nostalgia from it. But literally, I think the moon is a cool asset to the earth and is fascinating because of how much lore and meaning it has to cultures, but also how much it affects the tides.
OC ask (Amari):
🎭 Does your OC show different sides of themselves to different people?
Yes, when she’s working or ruling, she’s stoic but fair and kind. She tries to be a sort of ego conscious to Thorin when his advisors (super ego) and subjects (id) are becoming too overbearing to him. With friends, she’s very lax and lets go a lot (i.e she will tiny burp if shes with Dwalin but will still say “excuse me”). With family, she is vulnerable and honest; in front of Thorin and her children she will put her guard down and will cry if things get too much (except in front of her kids- she is trying to be super mom after all)
🌋 What’s your OCs temper like? Are they a slow boil, or an instant explosion?
I’d answered this earlier but I love talking about Amari that I will answer it again!
So Amari has a slow boil temper. Due to her sense of duty and fear of letting people down, she will let it build, fester, and boil. But instead of blowing up like her hot-headed husband, she has a cold anger- sharp, unforgiving, and wet. Wet because someone will cry, and it won’t be her. This coldness can even envelop her and a silent treatment can happen- passive aggressiveness, ignoring, etc
🧸 On a scale of 1 - 10, how ‘soft’ is your OC? 1 being the edgiest of edges and 10 being a literal teddy bear that cries at everything? (Bonus questions, where on the scale would your OC place themselves, and where would they like to be on the scale?)
Amari is about a 4. Because of her hard and difficult beginnings, she has a thick skin that is impenetrable. She isn’t cruel, but she is wary and can be distrustful- which leads her to be prickly with new people. However, when you get through that tough outer shell, its complete fluff. Before marrying Thorin, she would have liked to be seen as being a 3 but now, with a family of her own, she wants to try and reach a 7- she is trying so let’s hope she reaches there one day.
Thank you again for sending these asks in! O also got your request and am gonna take on the fic requests by Monday 😊
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
My fashion queen, incredibly important question: How would one go about figuring out fashion *style* for characters? I've noticed your OCs always have a Look(TM), and I've gathered from your blog (and fics) that you've got an eye for aestethics - please, could you give me advice at least where to *start*. I'm completely unaware of fashion and, frankly, completely overwhelmed at the prospect of just starting..
Ah! Previous Anon again - forgot to add a more specific question about fashion (I’m squeezing in 2 quesiton in one xD). Do you have fashion advice for sleek/distant female character’s clothing that doesn’t hinge on formal dresses? (as is discernable, I have literally NO idea what a Grown Ass, Self Respecting Woman would wear)
wow. that’s high praise. when i got this yesterday morning, i knew i wanted to give it the answer it deserved. this is over 1500 words long, so apologies to anyone on mobile, but i wasn’t letting go until i’d really sunk my teeth into it.
unfortunately, since you’re anon, i don’t know enough about your character to suggest anything specific. instead, i want to take a step back and see if we can solve the root of the problem - “where do i start?”
when i was a teenager, an english teacher told me this: “the biggest constraint in writing is no constraint at all.” when you have the whole spectrum of something - in this case, clothes - to pick from, it is overwhelming. the natural human instinct is to freeze up. so while it may sound strange, if you’re just starting out, you might feel better if you have some constraints to work within.
with that in mind, you can treat finding a ‘signature look’ for your character like solving a murder mystery. you eliminate all the suspects that don’t fit until you know enough to narrow it down to the one that does. that’s going to involve something else you’ll recognize from murder mysteries: you’re going to have to interrogate the character. open them up and get to know them - their background, their likes and dislikes, their quirks, the role they play in the world around them. every answer will give you clues and weed other things out, and eventually, you’ll get a box small enough that you feel comfortable working in it.
now, i love fashion, and i love using clothes to send messages about a character’s personality. so as someone who’s had that interest for my whole life, i work from the other end. the constraints happen, in large part, without me thinking about them. i tend to zoom right to a certain aesthetic or item of clothing, say, “okay, what outfit can i build with this,” and go from there. but since you’ve said you’re “unaware” of fashion and it’s intimidating to you, i’ll try to ease you in through a different route and see whether that helps.
so, if we’re going to pick your character apart, let’s think about some practical questions first:
what setting does your character live in?
if you’ve narrowed your setting down to a historical decade, you’ll find most of the style questions already - firmly! - answered for you. for example, a victorian woman would, by default, wear skirts. if the character is contemporary, you’ve got a lot more wiggle room. if you want to mess with historical fashion rules for symbolic or story purposes, awesome, but i think that’s probably more advanced than you’re looking for right now.
if the setting is fantasy or sci-fi, what’s its dominant aesthetic? is it cyberpunk? sleek ~apple~ sci-fi? or is it more like star wars? is it medieval fantasy? woodsy faerie fantasy? JRPG-style fantasy? you get the idea.
what does your character do?
speaks for itself. what’s their job?
what is your character like, just in general?
this is where everything you know about their personality goes. if they’re a fussy courtier who’s worried about their reputation and appearance, they’re probably not going to be comfortable in plain, casual clothes.
what can your character afford to wear?
again, speaks for itself. do they buy designer brands? are they trying their best with what they have? or are they super strapped for cash and just have to get the job done?
does their social scene have an easily-identifiable aesthetic that you could work with?
does your character wear urban/street fashion or preppy rich-kid clothes? are they part of a subculture that dresses in a certain way, like teddy boys? do they have the desire or freedom to go all-in with that style, or do they have to play it down, like being corporate goth?
do they need to wear something they could travel, do hard work, or fight in?
goes with the job question above. do they need some kind of outerwear or accessory where they can hide weapons? do they always need to be ready, or is it situational?
basically, where does the character’s aesthetic need to sit on a chart of form vs. function?
what do other characters who are similar to your character wear?
look at your favorite movies, games, and TV shows and see what professional designers are doing with characters like yours. what colors and cuts are they using? what other elements do they choose? do you like them? if you don’t like them, what would you change? sometimes you can learn more from what you hate than what you love.
hopefully, you’ve already culled a huge swath of fashion ideas that you Know You’re Not Going To Do. you may still not know what you do want to do, either! that’s fine. let’s move onto some more artsy questions:
are there any colors your character would prefer or avoid?
it sounds silly. it’s not. a limited color palette will go a long way toward making a character’s outfits look unified and purposeful. obviously, in real life, most people don’t restrict themselves as much as fictional characters do. but if you were a costume designer, you’d want to have some guideposts to work with.
are there any motifs you associate with your character?
animals, elements, religious or cultural symbols, plants - you can sneak all these into their clothes’ details. maybe their dress has beading in the shape of a peacock, or rose earrings, or icy sparkles, or a bear pelt for a cloak.
have fun with meanings! moon motifs for mysteriousness, poisonous flowers, etc. let your inner lit major out.
do you want your character to have a certain silhouette?
this may seem odd if you’re just going to be writing your character and not drawing them, but think about it anyway. do you want to emphasize that your character is tall? is everything they wear skintight? do they have a large, unique hat?
a great example of this is maleficent. not only does she have a horn-shaped headdress, her huge, flowing robe tells us there’s a much bigger power in her than her body would suggest.
is there a certain ethos you want their clothes to project? what, in their world, would do that? what in our world would do that?
let’s say you want your character to look very powerful, to the point where people would find their looks alone intimidating. should they wear sharp, simple, severe clothes, maybe in dark colors? or should they wear very embellished clothes, like royalty? what are your setting’s ideas about beauty? modesty? does your character play by the rules, or do you want them to stand out?
what colors, shapes, and styles appeal to you personally?
for all the time i’ve spent talking about restrictions and guidelines, it’s important not to lose the fun of it, either. use your favorite color! give them clothes you’d want to wear in real life! character style is a playground where you can let wish fulfillment run wild.
at any time, feel free to turn to google or wikipedia if you’re not sure how to answer one of these questions. if you see an interesting idea, pick it up and follow it - what you’re doing here is training your eye, and that’s how you’ll learn. that said, if you’re already intimidated, i wouldn’t dive too deep into couture/aesthetic blogs until i had a more solid grip on how i wanted the character to look. it comes back to what i said earlier - there is such a thing as too much to choose from, especially when you’re not sure what you should be looking for yet.
there’s one other thing i want to mention that can help bring a character’s wardrobe together: repetition. if you’re planning several outfits for a character instead of just one, echo some of the motifs, shapes, or colors from one to the next. they don’t all have to be identical takes on the same thing, but if they have certain traits in common, they’ll feel less like separate outfits and more like a matched set. they could all be in members of the same color family or have similar patterns on them. maybe your character has a certain accessory that they wear with everything. you get the idea.
while i may not be able to plan your character’s wardrobe outright, i hope this makes the whole process seem more straightforward. or that it gives you some ideas to work with, or any other kind of help you might take away from it. this post is getting unfathomably long, so i’ll wrap it up, but i’d be happy to put any of my own characters through a “question test” like this one if you’d like to see how it works in practice.
finally, if you can find an interview with an artist or costume designer who worked on something you like, those things are worth their weight in gold. i read an interview with colleen atwood when i was in middle school, and it revolutionized the way i thought about fashion and storytelling. and when i say “revolutionized,” i mean “i owe basically everything i just told you to that article.” dig into them and see how they think and talk about their art! they’re more qualified to teach you than i ever will be.
54 notes
·
View notes