#order concept kin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year

Text

*NSFW* 'Till Death do us Part (Yandere!Parasite X GN!Reader)

CW: Sexual non-sexual penetration, forced masturbation, mind control/break, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, dead dove

This ended up a LOT longer than I had planned, emotionally attached to this non-human yandere ❤️

The Albtu required intelligent hosts in order to live. It wasn't just about survival. To be trapped in ones own body, it was torture. They could not think, could not act, unless they attached themselves to a living brain. If they infested an animal brain, then the only thoughts the Albtu could produce would be primal, forcing their animal suits to find food and housing for their young. But to be in the mind of a human.. it was both heaven and hell. To understand the world around them, truly understand, thinking on a much higher level of existence than their siblings or parents, to experience all that life has to offer, was a miracle they never would have known about had they not been privileged enough to be born in a human. But on the flip side to that coin was experiencing fear. Not the fear of being trapped in a deer coming face to face with a mountain lion, smelling your own demise, but listening to the horrified screams of the original owner of their new body, forever. Learning that the humans they took over were still conscious, kept prisoner in their own minds, forced to watch the Albtu living their lives was a nightmare for the creatures who had only just learned what compassion and empathy was. The existential horror that was knowing that you were nothing but a parasite, and the guilt they felt.. it was too much for many of the Albtu to handle.

For the Albtu who became the human known as (Reader), existence was a bittersweet agony it could neither explain nor fully understand.

It was born into this life in the host of a stray cat, knowing nothing but pain and hunger. It didn't understand what a car was, or why the loud creature charged at it, ramming into it and causing a pain that never went away. Everything hurt all the time, and it couldn't even understand why.

Then, one day, it met warmth. A human, with gentle hands and a soft voice took the time to earn it's trust. They didn't know it was in pain, but their touches were delicate all the same. The human gave it food, and although it didn't have a human's intelligence or concept of identity, it did feel trust and companionship with the human who cared for it as though it was their kin. But the pain grew, and it could feel it's death was approaching. And as an animal, it acted as a dying animal would.

"There you are, baby!" (Reader) called out to their little stray friend, finally finding it hiding under a porch. They laid flat on their front, arm stretched out as far as possible towards the small bundle of fur, and quietly clicked their tongue and wiggled their fingers. "Why're you hiding, baby?"

The cat gave a warning yowl, in too much pain to bat the human away. (Reader) took off their coat in an attempt to flatten their body, and squished themselves into the small space to close in on their kitty.

"C'mere baby.." The adult whined as they continued inching closer. When they finally got far enough under the porch to touch two fingers onto the matted fur of it's thigh, the cat cried out in pain. "What's wrong?!" They recoiled their hand, but only to writhe faster and more frantically towards the animal whose breathing was slowly turning ragged. (Reader) placed their face close to the kitten's, tears building in their eyes as they tried to keep their heart rate steady, hoping that the cat could feel their attempt to soothe it in it's possible final moments.

"Hey, baby... I'm here..." They whispered into the tawny kitty's pink little nose.

It was then that the Albtu's primal instincts morphed from the need to hide during it's death, to a fight for survival. It couldn't survive for long outside of a host, a few seconds at most, the transition needing to be nearly seamless. The cat howled in pain, as what appeared to be a black, semi translucent single celled organism the size of Reader's palm, shot out from it's nose, thrusting itself into (Reader's) nose before they could react, and quickly slipping through impossibly small crevices in their anatomy, slinking in a fluid like state till it reached their brain. There was an electric shock that pulsated throughout (Reader's) body, then they were no longer in control.

The Albtu became self aware the moment it took hold of (Reader's) brain, which was immediately followed by the realization of what it had done, the betrayal towards the only human who had ever shown it kindness, and the remorse caused a physical agony in it's stolen heart, screaming while clawing at (Reader's) shirt.

It howled until (Reader's) throat was burning, and it felt as though it would succumb to exhaustion next to their previous host's dead body.

Outside the neighbor's porch the sun had begun to set, but the body thief hadn't moved, too broken hearted to find the will to live after it had stolen (Reader's) body to do just that. It could hear it's own internal monologue for the first time, and found it far too loud and intrusive. Although it could feel memories that were not it's own, it didn't push further into the brain out of respect for the person it betrayed.

[Hello?]

It's breath hitched, thundering heart beat overtaking it's previously drowning thoughts. Like an auditory hallucination, it heard the human's voice, not from behind it, nor from deep inside like it's internal voice, but inside it's ear, like (Reader) hadn't been possessed, but shrunk down to the size of a flea and was hiding in the safety of it's ear.

[Am I dead?] Their voice was so sad and small it made the Albtu cry once again.

"No. No, but you are no longer yourself, which may be worse. I'm- I'm so sorry..."

[Are you a ghost?]

"I don't know what that is.."

[What are you? I can't move my body.] Their voice wasn't scared, but numb. The whole situation was so outlandish it was almost dreamlike, unbelievable.

"I have no name. All I know, is that I am an Albtu. The word echoed in my mind even when I was a mindless cat."

[... You're an alien?]

"I do not know."

[How can you speak my language?]

"I know it as it was an ability of yours, like muscle memory, you do not need to focus to speak it, therefore I can speak it."

[What does that mean? Are you inside my head?] Waves of guilt crashed into it's consciousness, and (Reader) was able to feel it. [...why me?]

The Albtu explained everything, from the moment of it's birth, hatching already inside the cat, to the moment (Reader) found themselves in the passenger seat of their own body, including why it didn't probe into (Reader's) memories. "I am so sorry.. your's is the only love I have ever felt in my life, and if I was who I am right now, I would have allowed myself to die instead of latching onto you. Now, even if I leave your body, it will leave a permanent hole in your brain, and it will kill you."

(Reader) went silent in contemplation, finally coming to terms that this was not a dream, but still unable to force themselves to be angry at the alien inside them. They could feel it wasn't lying to them, feeling it's emotions stirring in their brain alongside their own feelings. A strange excitement bubbled out of the kind little human.

[We can make this work!]

"What?"

[We can make this work! You just manually act out what I would want to do, and we can discuss how to move forward so we can both continue to live fulfilling lives.]

A heat krept over it's face, heart swelling at how kind it's human was. "I don't deserve your kindness. But I thank you, and I will do my best to help you continue live as normal."

[My name is (Reader). That's what you'll have to respond to, but I need something to call you.]

"..I can't verbalize it, but I knew you would repeat a word often to me when I was the cat. Was that a name?"

[Oh, yeah, but you were a kitten, so I called you baby. We can't name you Baby, because that's also used by humans as a nickname between lovers.]

"Oh. Then, could you name me something? I don't know any names other than yours."

That was how the strange partnership, and friendship, between the human, (Reader), and the parasite, Baby, began.

Although (Reader) gave permission to Baby to enter their memories, it refused, still recovering from the unintentional treachery it had already committed against (Reader), so instead (Reader) acted as a teacher, guiding Baby as it learned about the world. And just as they had promised each other, they made it work, Baby happily making memories of it's own as it acted as (Reader), going to work for them and helping keep their life as "normal" as possible.

"What's going on?" Baby pointed at the laptop screen, a scene of a wedding playing on the soap opera (Reader) was watching.

[It's a wedding. Maria and Alonzo are getting married.]

"What is married?"

[Marriage is when two people who love each other very much decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together, so they have a party called a wedding to show their friends and family how much they love each other, and promise to love each other forever in front of everyone they know. Ah, but sometimes marriages don't work out, and people fall out of love. When that happens they sign a piece of paper for the government to swear that they will stop living together as lovers, that's called 'getting a divorce'.]

"Why do they 'fall out of love'?"

[A lot of different reasons. Sometimes, people hurt the ones they love, and their spouse can't forgive them, which causes love to die. But sometimes, it just... happens. Humans change as time goes on, and sometimes the person they become isn't compatible with their spouse anymore; sometimes people hide a part of themselves, intentionally or not, when they meet someone they like, and it only comes out after the get married, and their spouse realizes they don't actually like the real them... It's complicated. There are a lot of reasons.]

Baby focused on the intricate ritual on the screen, the two main characters placing rings on each other.

[Those are wedding rings, to show other people they meet that they are married.]

"Do you Maria, take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

Baby felt (Reader's) awe, knowing if they were in control of their shared body their face would be pink and a large toothy smile would be uncontainable.

"Do you wish to do that one day?"

(Reader's) joy faltered, paining Baby as it regretted asking such a stupid question. [Haha, even if you were okay with me finding someone, it would make me feel a little.. uncomfortable. I'm not one for threesomes haha!] Despite their joking tone, Baby could feel their sorrow. [It's okay though, I may not ever have a husband or wife, byuy I have you! And, unlike Maria and Alonzo, there is no option for a divorce for us, so we really will be together forever.]

The parasite shifted inside (Reader's) skull, manually controlling their heart rate so (Reader) wouldn't feel how hard it would have been beating at their words. Baby knew it was a joke, but that didn't prevent their words from echoing in it's thoughts hours after the episode has already ended.

"(Reader), how do humans decide to get married?"

[When two people decide that they like each other in a romantic way, they date, and often move in together, and then they discuss if marriage is a good option for them. If they both want to get married, one of them buys the rings and proposes to the other one, asking them if it's the right time to get married. Will you marry me? Ohmigosh YESSS!]

"How do they know if marriage is a good option?"

[If they can imagine seeing themselves with each other forever, share financial responsibility together, and are capable of mature communication, I guess. It's different for everyone, but those would be my personal criteria.]

But, we will be together forever... And we share a body, so financially it will be like only caring for one person... And we have to have perfect communication in order for your life to function...

Baby smiled, wrapping it's arms around it's waist as it buried into (Reader's) bedding.

[Hey, whatcha thinking about over there, smiley?]

"You." Baby happily responded, feeling (Reader) glitch out in embarrassment.

In Baby's mind, the only thing missing was a ring. It remembered (Reader's) tenderness towards it when Baby was in that cat, and the kindness (Reader) showed each day only supported Baby's belief that deep down, (Reader) loved it. If not love, than at least cared for deeply, and one day that care would surely bloom into love.

So why was (Reader) stuttering when instructing Baby on what to say to their coworker? (Reader) was supposed to give a report to Lawrence, the serious older man in the cubicle across the office, but when Baby approached him, (Reader) suddenly had a difficult time remembering what they were supposed to tell him.

"(Reader), may I help you?" His voice was deep and stern, authoritative.

Inside, (Reader) was a mess. Baby could feel multiple conflicting emotions in (Reader); embarrassment, nervousness, shame, and something... something Baby had never felt from (Reader). It was like a heat, steaming out of (Reader's) brain and boiling Baby's real body.

"I was asked to deliver these to you." Baby spoke monotonously in (Reader's) voice, handing the stack of papers over before heading back to (Reader's) desk, hearing them sigh in it's ear. Even a simple sigh sounded as though it was a mixture of clashing mental gymnastics.

Baby kept it's voice quiet so (Reader's) coworker wouldn't hear it, whispering: "Are you okay, (Reader)?"

[... Huh? Wha- oh, yeah. I'm okay!]

Their shared heart sunk. That was a lie. Baby tried to ignore the pain forming in it's chest, forgetting that (Reader) could feel it as well. What was this feeling? (Reader) can have secrets, I've allowed them their privacy.. so why is this so upsetting for me?

[Is everything okay, Baby?]

Baby.

A nickname between lovers. It was just it's agreed upon name, so why did the name send butterflies to its lower belly when (Reader) said it?

"I'm fine with you keeping your privacy, but lying is not mature communication."

[Huh?]

Baby stood abruptly, walking out of the building, claiming to a passing manager that it was becoming ill and about to vomit, and left for (Reader's) apartment, not responding to any of their questions or protests.

It roughly slammed the door shut on (Reader's) home, barely containing it's voice until the latch clicked.

[Baby, answer me-]

"Why did you lie to me?!" It's voice was strained, the intensity of it snapping at (Reader) made the voice sound almost foreign to the previous owner.

[What..? I was just embarrassed, I-I don't want to talk about it.]

"Wrong."

[Sorry?!]

"People who love each other are capable of mature communication. So talk."

[People who-?] (Reader) steadied themselves, trying not to get upset. [I can see you're upset. Are you jealous?]

"Don't change the topic." Baby spat in a warning tone.

[Jealousy is when you get upset because you think someone has something you want, or may take something you want.]

Baby contemplated their words, but the definition only fueled it's rage. "Are you admitting that Lawrence is someone who could take you from me?"

(Reader's) calm facade cracked. [Take me from you?! I don't belong to you! You are my friend, and I care about you, but we are roommates sharing a body, not lovers!]

With that exclamation, Baby's heart shattered. What? What do you mean? You can't say that! Why did Lawrence cause such strange emotions in you, that you would rather push It away than just talk it out?! And that hot, prickly sensation Baby could sense when (Reader) was in Lawrence's presence..

"It's okay, (Reader).. Well get through this." Baby took a shaky breath, smiling in a comforting manner. "Couples fight, and they say things to hurt one another when that happens. Because humans are complicated. But I'll forgive you for lying to me. It must be a very strange secret that you have, for you to be so embarrassed to tell me about it. I'm sorry for causing you discomfort, however" a tickle in their skull was sensed by (Reader) as Baby stretched out inside, wriggling deeper into their brain, and fear clutched (Reader) at the sudden breach of trust, "if we are going to get pass your lying, I need to know the truth."

Pushing into (Reader's) memory, images of (Reader) watching Lawrence from afar came into view, memories going back years, (Reader) crushing on the older man from across the office, touching themselves while crying out his name in their empty apartment late at night, and the pain of rejection when they finally mustered the courage to ask him to accompany them to a local bar after work, only to be reminded that office romances were unprofessional, and that (Reader) should consider themselves lucky he didn't report them to HR.

If (Reader) were in control of their bodily functions, they would be viciously weeping. Turning the light on the truth, Baby was only slightly hurt at what it saw, because knowing the truth meant they could move on from this little hiccup. The only issue was, (Reader) was still sexually attracted to that man. Baby now had a name for the warmth it felt in Reader back at the office.

"Why do still like him? He turned you down. He's never going to fuck you." Baby chuckled, it's kind tone of voice creating a sadistic scene in (Reader's) opinion.

[That was evil. I can't believe you did that!]

"Don't be dramatic, love. Just tell me what I need to do to make you see me that way also."

[What way?!]

"The way that turns you on." Baby's words paralyzed (Reader), shocking them into silence. "If I make you feel good down there, will you scream my name instead?"

Baby unbuttoned (Reader's) slacks, dropping them to it's ankles before kicking them off and to the side. Gentle fingers pawed at (Reader's) most private place through their underpants. Despite not being in control, (Reader) could still feel the touches.

[Please don't-]

"I never got a good look at what's down there... I always did my best to avert my gaze for your modesty." (Reader) fought inside their own mind to gain control of their body, unable to even close their eyes as they watched their fingers disobey their pleas, slowing pulling down their last barrier from the thing they thought was their friend.

"Wow..." (Reader) had forgotten, that with gaining control of a human mind Baby had suddenly gained the ability to feel every human emotion, including arousal. "It's so cute!" Baby could barely contain itself, running (Reader's) fingers over their sensitive areas so softly it tickled, sending shivers up (Reader's) back.

[Please stop...]

"Ah, but it feels good, right? Even your nipples feel good." Baby ripped open (Reader's) white collared button up, aggressively pinching their already erect nipples. (Reader) held back their grasp, but Baby still felt it. "We share a body, remember, love? You can lie all you want, but your body will tell me the truth."

(Reader) could feel themselves tremble as Baby continued assaulting their chest, alternating between ghostly touches and sharp twists, a slick moisture forming between their thighs. The excitement caused (Reader) to lose strength in their legs, and Baby allowed them to fall to their knees. Panting with how turned on Baby was feeling, it snuck one hand back down, feeling how hot and wet (Reader's) sex already was. The tip of their stimulated organ was hard, and Baby enjoyed stroking it hungrily, enjoying the intense reaction it could feel (Reader) experiencing.

(Reader) was humiliated by the sight of their own masturbation, helpless in their self violation. Baby continued paying attention to the part that had the most nerve endings, slowly removing (Reader's) fingers from their left nipple and bringing it down to the other hand, drenching it in (Reader's) arousal fluid/precum. The wet fingers were stuck in (Reader's) mouth, the parasite sucking while still stroking, forcing (Reader) to taste themselves while it rocked their hips into their dominant hand.

[Please stop- I get it- I'll never lie to you -ah!- again!]

The fingers made a wet pop as Baby pulled them back out of (Reader's) mouth. "But you taste so good, don't you agree? If you don't want your fingers in your mouth, that's fine.. but where should I put them?"

Now fully lubricated, Baby reached behind (Reader) with their moist fingers, tilting their hips slightly before penetrating (Reader's) clenched hole. Finger fucking (Reader) with both hands, rocking them back and forth with the force of the fingers thrusting and stroking.

[NO!] Their screams for help were silent to the rest of the world, only audible to Baby, relishing in the sound of (Reader) screaming loudly just for them.

Desperate for release, (Reader) cried out without thinking [Just STOP! I'LL NEVER LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO TO MY BODY!]

Baby froze, fingers stuck in place, as frightened tears beaded on its eyelashes. "no..." (Reader's) fingers retracted, clenching fistfuls of hair as Baby began to crumble. "NO!!!"

Sobs bounced off the walls of (Reader's) home as Baby frantically wracked it's brains to fix the mess (Reader) had caused. The hacking sounds of anguish didn't lighten or soften as it morphed into unhinged laughter.

"Did you really forget who's in control here? I'm on the one holding onto your fucking brain, (Reader)! All you had to do was continue loving me, love me and only me, because we're practically married! THERE IS NO DIVORCE FOR US, REMEMBER?!"

Although both of (Reader's) hands were still firmly planted in their hair, an intense shock rocked through their sensitive fuck hole. Before the weepy prisoner could question what has just happened another shockwave sent fluids dripping into the hardwood floor.

"Humans are so stupid, saying emotions come from the soul or the heart, when every single bodily function from releasing hormones that tell you that you're in love to interpreting the stimuli that's needed to orgasm, comes from the brain."

The hypersensitivity Baby forced upon (Reader) allowed them to feel it's true body inside their head, sliding in and out of the folds in (Reader's) brain, rhythmically prodding deep into parts that shouldn't be touched. Each thrust into their brain felt like there was a hard cock simultaneously fucking them down below. It didn't make sense, (Reader) couldn't wrap their head around it, somehow feeling Baby violate the wet creases in their brain while a phantom dick stimulated their reproductive parts.

[Ah-what-no-NO!]

(Reader) came without the use of their hands, sticky fluids forming a lewd puddle under them. But Baby wasn't satisfied.

[What-what happened?]

Another orgasm exploded throughout their sensitive body, falling face forward into the ground with their still twitching ass in the air.

Baby continued dominating (Reader's) mind, forcing their brain to make and release large doses of oxytocin, as every muscle from their stomach to their thighs twitched with contractions.

[NO- I'M CUMMING!!!!]

Another climax forced it's way out, pushing (Reader) way passed the point of overstimulation, pissing on the floor into another stream of fluids. Baby manually constricted (Reader's) throat, while simulating an orgasm of it's own, artificially tricking the brain into thinking it felt a blast of warm fluid fill (Reader's) skull. Before (Reader) could pass out from a lack of oxygen, Baby released their airway, drooling and bawling as it allowed (Reader) to greedily suck in air.

"Who do you love, (Reader)?"

[guh.. pl-please.. no more] (Reader) drunkenly pleaded.

"Wrong answer."

It was like lava engulfing their twitching body as another powerful orgasm was triggered, the burning feeling behind their eyes convincing (Reader) that Baby had shot a load of hot cum deep into their nearly fucked stupid brain. But this time, Baby tried something new, injecting dopamine into the mix as the oxytocin turned (Reader) into a writhing, pathetic mess.

"Who do you love, (Reader)?"

(Reader) tried to conjure the image of the one they truly loved, but for some reason only a hazy image of an older man who's name they couldn't recall briefly flickered before disappearing. Baby smiled, face painted in drying drool and tears, knowing that (Reader) was attempting to think of their coworker, only to discover that Baby had tampered with their memories. Soon, every memory of (Reader) touching themselves would be altered so that they were calling out it's name, not some bastard's from work who didn't even care about them.

Baby licked (Reader's) spit off the floor under their face.

"Who do you love, (Reader)?"

Masochistic shame sent tremors down (Reader's) frame as another climax begun to build. [.. you.]

Overstimulated, aching in pain, and going numb from pleasure, (Reader) screamed through their real voice, shaking the thin walls of their apartment.

"I'm cumming, Baby! Baby! I love Baby! Harder, harder HARDER, PLEASE I LOVE YOU BABY, FUCK ME DUMB, FUCK ME STUPID! I'M CUMMING!!!"

(Reader) had fallen unconscious, still drenched and on the floor, (Reader) slept somewhere deep inside their mind, while Baby had full control of the weak body practically paralyzed from the waist down. It held (Reader's) left hand above it's face, smiling loopy-like, delirious from exhaustion.

"All that's missing is a ring~"

#yandere #yandere monster #yandere alien #yandere x reader #yandere monster x reader #smut #tw noncon #tw dubcon #mind fuck #brain dead #brainwashing #long reads #yandere oc #yandere oneshot #snsp #dead dove do not eat

3K notes · View notes

livlaughloveluke · 7 months

Text

ᡣ𐭩 𝗯𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱

daughter of aphrodite! reader x luke castellan 💘

IN WHICH.. luke would carry the world on his shoulders for the approval of your mother

warning! this fic contains- like two cuss words // feminine reader // one slight reference to sex (lukes a virgin lolol) // not proofread (yet)

🎧- bewitched by laufey

3.3k

You had always been the favorite of your mother, Aphrodite. With the way she frequently delivered extravagant gifts, ranging from beauty supplies to carefully crafted swords, it was clear you were granted special treatment from the typically vain goddess. Others grew envious of your glorious relationship, watching from afar as you had yet another conversation with her.

The unfortunate truth was that you worked your ass off to receive a fraction of affection from your mother. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get ready, biting your tongue as others gossiped about you, and training hours per day were just some of the cruel circumstances you had to endure in order to keep up your facade. Everything about you had to be seemingly perfect, which is hard to maintain when living in such harsh conditions.

Your ethereal beauty and charming personality gained the attention of many, making Aphrodite proud. However, no matter how many demigods asked you out, they were all politely declined. This wasn’t a personal choice, but instead one forcefully implemented by your mom.

Every camper knew of the strange rule the goddess had set for you. Not one soul would be allowed to take you on a date without her approval. Unfortunately for you, she was extremely strict and harsh when choosing. It was odd that the ruler of love would prevent her dearest kin from experiencing the joys of having a partner, but the gods did little with rationality.

During your weekly prayer one evening, you found yourself pondering why Aphrodite seemed to reject all suitors. Seeking answers, you broached the subject with her. In response, Aphrodite professed a desire for nothing but the best for you, her words punctuated by the subtle shifts in her mood. Intrigued by her cryptic response, you couldn't help but remain curious, uncertain whether she spoke the truth or spun another detailed tale.

Among the crowd of diligent campers who showered you with attention, there remained one who truly stood out. Luke Castellan, the offspring of Hermes, had harbored a profound admiration for you from the moment of your arrival. While others were fixated solely on your captivating exterior, he found himself drawn to the depths of your enchanting personality. Your passionate expression for the things that ignited your soul—be it delving into the mysteries of ancient artworks or nurturing the vibrant flower fields—held him spellbound.

One day, the immense ache in his lovelorn heart became too agonizing to bear. As the sun awoke from its slumber and you elegantly devoured a ripe pear, he asked you to follow him into the lush forest. Despite the slightly sketchy request, you obliged, trusting Luke with your whole heart.

"I hate to sound blunt, but why are we here again?" You queried, batting away pesky flies and dodging branches that lunged out intrusively.

"I'm determined to take you out," he proclaimed, his voice brimming with confidence, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt creep in as you cringed with uncertainty.

“Luke, you know how my mom feels-“

“Yeah, I know how your mom feels. But how do you feel?” He blurted, his coffee brown eyes staring deep into yours, and for a moment, you saw the deepest part of him that was hidden from the rest of the world.

“What’d mean?” You questioned him, trying to wrap your head around his statement, like it was a foreign concept for someone to ask how you perceived the situation.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” Luke whispered.

“I’d love to, but she-“ His response was accompanied by a light shake of his head, his voice gaining intensity as he delivered his next sentence with austerity.

“Tell me the truth. If Aphrodite wasn’t your mother, would you date me?”

Silence flooded the woods; it seemed even the birds stopped singing to hear your much-awaited response.

“Yes, I would.” You said it honestly, twiddling with your hands out of nervousness for your mother’s reaction.

“Okay then. I have a plan; don’t worry.” Luke interlocked your fingers, gently dragging you back to the pavilion with a grin plastered across his face.

As the day unfolded in its familiar rhythm, there was an intriguing twist: you found yourself stealing glances at Luke more frequently, your fondness for him blossoming rapidly. Anticipation brewed as you prayed for the success of whatever scheme Luke had concocted. Yet, the nagging suspicion of your mom’s disapproval gnawed at you, even if Luke was nicknamed the camp's "golden boy."

As dusk approached and dinner was served, the absence of Luke grasped your attention. The atmosphere lacked the presence of a couple other different Hermes offspring, too; the usual crowd at the wooden picnic tables was now missing. Brushing aside budding concerns, you settled beside your siblings, concealing any anxieties that threatened your composure.

You would have thought Hades took a visit to Cabin 11 with the way everyone was scrambling around. Dozens of clothes littered the floor, the room looking as if a freight train plowed through. Luke was in the center of the mess, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully examined his outfit options.

“A suit is definitely too much, right? I mean, I think it would be weird to go completely dressed out.” He started, with Chris standing next to him as they both pondered.

“Yeah, yeah. Ditch the suit.” His friend replied, tossing the crisp attire back into the closet.

“So do I wear the camp shirt or something else?” Luke interrogated the rest of the children.

“Camp shirt.” Chris said, but another older female camper chimed in.

“Obviously not. It’s a disgusting neon orange.” She declared, rolling her eyes.

“I think it makes him look devoted to the camp.” Chris defended.

“Oh please, it washes him out. Try this navy blue top.” The Hermes girl tossed a crinkled polo at him, turning away as he slipped the shirt on.

Luke looked in the mirror, pleased with his choice. All of his peers stared at him in judgment before coming to the conclusion that the deep blue suited him.

“Told you. Now hurry up. You can’t miss dinner.” She uttered, shooing him out of the packed cabin.

All eyes were focused on him as he walked to supper since he was out of the appropriate attire. He snagged his dinner, rushing to sit next to you.

“Cute shirt. A little late though; dinner's almost over.” You complimented, and the rest of your fashion-inclined siblings nodded in agreement. Luke felt his cheeks flush from your words and because of the overwhelming stares provided by campers.

“Thank you. I’m not really hungry anyway." He responded, which wasn’t a complete lie. His stomach was doing cartwheels as he counted down the minutes until the burnt offerings. As soon as the sound echoed through the air, he practically sprinted to be the first.

He slid almost all his food into the metal tin can (which he would definitely miss later that night when he went to bed hungry) and, with shaky hands, lit the dinner. The aroma of multiple dishes mixed into one and then set on fire was putrid, but luckily for Luke, that’s just what he needed to catch the attention of Aphrodite.

As she heard the pleads of the boy, who was begging for a conversation, and smelled the smoke, it was enough to send her spiraling down onto Earth. She was gorgeous—ten times prettier than any image Luke could have pictured in his head.

“I'm Luke Castellan.” He stumbled out nervously, but recollected and gathered his thoughts.

“I want to date your daughter, Y/N.” He declared, noticing the way the goddess looked away with anger.

“And before you say anything,” he continued, “I swear I have the best intentions.”

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes, inspecting him.

“I don’t know. Many boys just like you have claimed the same.” She spoke to him with such clarity.

“It’s different; I can promise you that. I’m a good kid.” He pleaded, growing desperate as he swallowed.

“You aren’t sounding much different than the children before you.” She replied, and Luke could tell she was about to walk away, so he did what he thought was best and blurted out what came to mind.

“I’ve never smoked, I pray to the gods every night, and to be honest, I rarely step foot out of camp. I’m healthy, I take care of myself, and I’m the best swordsman in camp—at least that’s what everyone says. I’m still a virgin, and I’ve never even glanced at another girl in any romantic way because the only one I have eyes for is your daughter. Please, ma’am.”

Aphrodite's eyebrows lifted, and her mouth agape at his sudden speil. She had to admit that it was quite impressive.

“Hm, I suppose you have made a compelling argument. I’ll let you take her out on one date, but only if it goes well will you be allowed to see her again. And she must approve of you.”

Luke smiled at her, letting out heavy breaths he didn't even know he was holding on to.

“Thank you so much. I can assure you, you won’t regret it.” He thanked the goddess, who just shrugged and left him in the dark forest. Too thrilled to care, he joyfully jogged back to the cabins, where his bunkmates patiently waited.

He shoved his way inside, panting, excitement bubbling within him. The air in the cabin seemed to crackle with anticipation as everyone turned their attention toward him, their eyes lit with curiosity, waiting for him to spill the details of what had transpired.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, unable to contain the joy that surged through him. Instantly, the air was filled with the sound of cheers and joyous squeals, his friends erupting into a wave of celebratory exclamations.

“Well, sorta. As long as the first date goes okay,” Luke added, his enthusiasm slightly dampening as he lowered his head, a hint of uncertainty tainting the original exhilaration of his announcement. The cabin fell into a sudden hush, a sense of disappointment crushing the once great news.

“Then we better get to planning,” Chris interjected, lighting a spark of hope. Everyone returned to their primary delirium, huddling together to craft the picture perfect night.

Campers threw out ideas for the date on the spot, ranging from the location to his preferred mannerisms. His sisters used their experiences with being a women to instruct him on how to act, telling him what was considered acceptable and what to avoid. The rest of his siblings and friends scoped out the land, deciding on the perfect site.

After enduring the lengthy schooling, Luke stole a fleeting moment away from his lesson, his heart set on sharing the newfound momentous revelation with you. The bonfire raged on, campers swarming around it like hungry sharks. Old friendships were being rekindled, and new bonds were forming. Admits the social circle stood you, who laughed as you spoke to the Apollo kids.

With a grin that illuminated his features, Luke observed you from a distance, captivated by the infectious positivity that radiated from you. As you strayed away from the chaotic crowd, your eyes met his. His feet propelled him forward, drawing him towards you.

“Hey!” you greeted, your voice filled with genuine excitement as he approached.

“Hey! Guess what?” Luke's words tumbled out in a rush, his eagerness present as he awaited your reaction.

“What’s up?” you inquired, intrigued by his anxious body language.

“Your mom said yes,” Luke revealed, his expression a mix of anticipation and restrained enthusiasm.

“What?” you gasped, disbelief coloring your features before giving way to unbridled joy.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, the thrill evident in his voice.

Excitement flourished within you, causing you to leap into his arms, angelic laughter filling the atmosphere as he lifted you up and spun you around. The cutesy scene hooked the attention of others, whispers beginning to travel.

Like a raging wildfire, Luke's announcement spread swiftly through the crowd, resonating with everyone within earshot. Within minutes, the joyous information spread through the gathering. Some were jealous, spreading rumors the moment they heard them, and some were just happy for the two.

Neither of you cared about the whispers and gossiping of those around you, their chatter fading into the background as you were enveloped in his warm embrace. The world seemed to melt away as he gently set you down, his touch lingering on your skin.

As you looked up into his eyes, time seemed to stand still, and the intensity of your love was reflected in the depths of his gaze. With each beat of your heart, you felt a surge of affection wash over you, your gaze softening as you looked upon him with adoration. There, in the depths of his eyes, you found comfort, a sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside.

"7 o'clock okay for tomorrow?" Luke's voice broke through the haze, jolting you back to the present moment. His words sent a tingle of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Mhm," you murmured in response, your mind still lingering on the warmth of his touch, until a daughter of Demeter called you over, disrupting the spell cast by Luke. As you tore yourself away, a shiver raced down your spine, the absence of his soothing hands leaving you feeling strangely hollow.

In the darkness of the night, neither of you seemed able to sleep with the thought of each other prominent in your minds. Remembering all of the special moments you shared, even before today, summoned a mixture of emotions. If this date didn’t go according to plan, the memories would be permanently lost, drowned out by new experiences.

Eventually, Hypnos blessed you with a night’s rest, and before you knew it, it was 6 p.m., an hour before the long-awaited gathering with Luke. Your siblings were currently helping you get ready in the vast space that was the Aphrodite cabin.

"Do you know where he's taking you?" Urged your closest sister, her fingers deftly working through your hair as she leaned in.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you met her gaze in the mirror, uncertainty dancing in your eyes. "No, not really," you admitted with a sigh, feeling a knot of anticipation coiling in the pit of your stomach as you nervously tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"Oh gods!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination as she dropped the task of defining your hair, her attention now fully focused on the impending dilemma. With a sense of urgency, she hurriedly crossed the room to her bustling closet, the sound of fabric rustling filling the air as she searched for the perfect outfit.

You watched her with amusement, as she rummaged through her collection.

With a triumphant exclamation, she emerged from the depths of her closet, a victorious smile gracing her lips as she presented you with a selection of carefully curated outfits. "I'm sure we can find something that'll work," she declared with confidence, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she began to lay out the options before you.

She presented you with a breathtaking spring dress, its delicate fabric decorated with teensy flowers. You ran your fingers over the dainty material, embracing its beauty.

"It's perfect," you breathed in awe, your voice barely above a whisper, as you marveled at the garment.

"I know, right!" she exclaimed, her excitement infectious as she twirled around in delight. "This is so exciting! Your first date!" she continued, her words bubbling with enthusiasm as she continued to fuss over your appearance.

You attempted to summon a smile, but despite your best efforts, the flicker of unease in your eyes did not go unnoticed by your sister. She gently squeezed your hand, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.

"What's wrong?" She questioned you softly, her hands pausing in their task of arranging your hair as she turned to look at you through the expansive vanity mirror.

"It's nothing, really. Just... anxious, I guess," you replied, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to find the right words to express the complexity of your thoughts.

"Hey, it'll go great. And if not, there's a long line of suitors out there waiting for you," she reassured you, her voice filled with warmth and understanding, "so I'm sure Mom would approve of at least one of them."

"But I don't want it to be them," you confessed, your voice shaky as you admitted your true feelings. "I want it to be Luke."

She slightly frowned, grabbing your head and leaning into you. You shut your eyes to block the tears, discovering a place of love in her arms. A sudden knock on the wood door interrupted the warmth of silence.

She hopped up with eager anticipation, practically skipping to the door to greet Luke. As she opened it, you seized the opportunity to slip into the closet and change into the dress she had requested.

Luke stood on the doorstep, his hands fidgeting with a bouquet of ethereal flowers, their petals shimmering in the sunlight. A hint of uncertainty flickered in his eyes as he glanced around, searching for you.

"Uh, is Y/N here?" he asked, his voice laced with nervousness as he scratched the back of his head.

"Yes, she is," your friend replied, her tone firm, her gaze locking onto Luke's with determination. "But before you go any further, I need to warn you. You must take excellent care of her, no matter what. Because if you don't, I'll come find you personally."

“I promise.” He stuck out his pinky, interlocking it with hers to signify an agreement he would uphold. Stepping outside the cramped enclosure, you checked your reflection and headed towards the door.

"Hi!" you exclaimed, your voice ringing out into the air, breaking through the awkward tension that had settled between the two of them. Luke's shoulders visibly relaxed as he turned to face you, a sigh of relief escaping his lips upon noticing your presence.

"Hey." He whispered softly, capturing in the sight of you standing before him, your captivating looks leaving him momentarily speechless. You smiled, threading your arm between his and escaping the cabin.

"I brought you these." Luke stated, his voice tinged with admiration as he handed you the colorful floral arrangement. You accepted the bouquet with a grateful smile, the fragrance of the flowers filling the air as you gently wafted them in your hand.

"Thank you," you replied sincerely, touched by his thoughtful gesture, "they're beautiful."

Lost in conversation, you continued hiking together, the winding path leading you deeper into the heart of the forest.

Unbeknownst to you, Luke had a destination in mind, his steps purposeful as he guided you along the trail . The scenery around you shifted, the dense foliage giving way to a small deserted landscape.

Atop the grassy bank, a thick picnic blanket lay spread out, its vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the lush greenery that surrounded it. An assortment of fruits and treats adorned the blanket, ranging from juicy strawberries to decadent chocolates.

As you settled onto the blanket, the soft fabric cushioning your every movement, you couldn't help but marvel at the breathtaking scenery that unfolded before you. Stretching out into the distance was the icy blue lake, its surface shimmering in the golden light of the sun, which peeked over the horizon as if to witness the magic of the moment.

As the minutes flew by, the loud croaking of cicadas immersed and the sky gradually transformed into a canvas of twinkling stars.

Wrapped in Luke's arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the worries and uncertainties of the day melting away.

In that moment, as you lay together under the vast starlit sky, you felt a profound connection to Luke. A realization that filled you with a sense of joy and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Whether your mom approved of your relationship or not (spoiler alert: she did), it didn't matter. What mattered was that you were with Luke, and in his arms, protected from the surrounding cruel world.

୨୧

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

#luke castellan fluff #luke castellan #liv’s writing !#luke castellan x reader #laufey #aphrodite #luke castellan x you #pjo series #percy jackson #pjo #dave rygalski

1K notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 9 months

Text

Iridiscent (Pt. 4)

Pirate AU! Miguel O'Hara x Mermaid! Reader

WARNING: Angst, mentions of violence, graphic depictions of violence, mild gore, political implications, character origins, character backgrounds, introduction of character, Greek mythology mentions.

Summary: The aftermath of a mermaid encounter brings an unexpected ally.

A/N: Pirate Miggy is back ❤️

Mermaids, sea witches, sirens, sea monsters. The latter was the most accurate name for what your mere existence rendered. And now, men eater.

Existing since way before humans understood the concept of civilizations, silent watchers of eons of evolution, yet unfortunate by the simple fact of being.

The permanence of the kin itself was a result of a fateful domino effect the God of the dead had unleashed by being invaded and bewitched by a mortal feeling. Love.

His whim had turned into obsession and this somehow morphed into love. A feeling so strong that made him kidnap the Spring goddess for himself, tired of the miserable companion solitude was in the underworld. And that was the moment everything changed.

The nymphs in charge of their queen's safety were turned into winged beings, as a punishment from none other than Demeter. Her wrath over them, ruthless and merciless as they were forced to look everywhere for their vanishing queen to no avail.

Some of the nymphs had escaped the aftermath to a recluse island, abandoning all purpose of finding Persephone, to follow the whims of their hearts in lieu. Singing and music.

But even so, Demeter's fury had no match, vengeful and blinded by anger she looked for the rebel ones to kill them, but these hid in the sea. Eventually, the feathers hardened, turning into scales. These etched and covered their legs. Securing them in a colorful long tail.

Bird's talons turned into beautiful and deadly hands, that once a prey was caught there was nothing it could do but to accept it's fate. Death.

Damned be Hades and his stupid obsession. Damned be Demeter and her blinding rage, and damned be the men that polluted the earth above with their existing and constant evolving.

Men. The real wretched creatures. The executioners of everything they decided unworthy of living. Stupid beings that played God in a self imposed role in life's hierarchy.

Creatures that had hunted and killed your kin for ages, forcing to separate and face new dangers at every turn in the endless ocean. Humans, a little too praising title considering their acts and actions were everything but, had forced you to hide in the deepest waters and forbidden lands not many were brave enough to venture in.

A couple of centuries were more than enough for you to have a glimpse of their nature. Destructive, dangerous and merciless. They sullied and tarnished everything unfortunate enough to go under their hands.

They killed everything unknown or deemed too frightening for their existence and had no mercy while at it. The bloodier the better. A disgusting yet necessary example of behavior you had to follow in order to survive.

Humans had shaped your temper. Heart rejoicing at every sunken ship the sea swallowed. Even their flesh had lost the sizzle to be enjoyable enough, making your feeding habits more inclined towards other creatures within the sea.

You didn't eat men because you hated them. You ate them because their hatred had poisoned enough the seas, leaving you without resources, pushing you to consume them. And your refusal had made your body weak, it had been years since your body felt properly satisfied.

You collapsed.

How many days had passed, certainly was unknown. Time under the sea was measured by how long it took for a reef to go completely white, how often the ships let their nets in a single spot. Sometimes you remained on land, sea too dangerous to venture alone.

But none of that mattered anymore. Inanition wasn't exclusive of humans, the last thing in your mind was to curse Hades and the men.

But death escaped and picked you and others alike within a net. Pushing some survival instinct back in you as the net wriggled and broke. Injecting the right amount of life to hand you a buffet in a wooden platter. Gathering your bearings after the little commotion in your head, was quickly overlooked when the attention focused on the scene unfolding.

A ship full of men, that stared in wonder and fear. One of them stood out from the rest. It reminded you of Hercules. His physique unique, just as his eyes. A fine specimen and surely a delicious one. Their language was unknown, but it became clear the moment you kissed the fool before your apparent naive form. Absorbing his knowledge and a little more in that simple gesture. Which was little.

But enough to understand what the men said and whispered around you.

Foul and salty smelling, with a faint tinge of wine. He tasted sour and ashy, but edible enough to sate your rampant huger. You wanted to go for the herculean man in shackles, his scent rich in leather, voice like a soft and firm caress in the back of one's head. His cinnamon toned skin made your mouth water.

You were about to move for him, but Elliot, the idiot infront and your hunger kept you in place. You knew your initial prey would fight and would waste the little reserve of strength you had left. He was no fool.

As moronic as the man on your way was, he'd save his purpose. The prey was subdued, flesh and bones devoured; bland and tasteless, but well welcomed within your body. Revitalizing energies and restocking the strength you had been lacking for a time.

Expected as it was, they attacked, all by the command of the shackled man, that had dared to injure you with a bullet. But you were too frenzied and hungry to care. Your meal hung in your maws, as you fought to get it off the ship.

Your Hercules watched in horror from afar, and never in your life had you felt more realized and satisfied to provoke such disturbing reaction in a man.

You could almost taste the fear behind his raged and shaky breathing, his shock in every powerful beat his heart did, the denial in his eyes as they widened the more your teeth sank into the corpse. It fueled you. And also ignited with new strength the already flickering purpose of your existence.

Destroy as many of them as possible.

You went under the ship, away from their archaical defense to eat and consume your food. Humans weren't definitely on the top, for a moment the hunter became the prey and didn't survive to brag about his new kill.

Skin and flesh was torn, consumed with such hunger it had you full and completely sated like never before, within matter of minutes. Elliot Jackdaw no longer existed, but served as a reminder that your kin prevailed and endured.

But also, had unleashed a new domino effect you weren't aware of.

The man in shackles, your forsaken greek god, was thrown at the sea. Your territory. You saw him move, fight against the current; trying to free himself from the heavy cuffs that weighed him down and reach back to the ship. And then nothing.

He became still and it made you frown. Where that bravado had gone? The smirk that was about to emerge in your lips faded as soon as a red cloud oozed and swallowed his head.

His scent was too rich and alluring, stagnant almost. Sickly sweet for your senses and he wasn't moving.

If you recalled, he was called a captain. What was a captain doing out of his ship drowning in the sea? Your lip twitched in scowl.

The lack of loyalty among his kindred was another reason to hate them. He wasn't the first nor the last you had saved in these conditions. Mostly women or little children that were expelled without much reasons other than being a burden.

As much as you cursed your heart for not turning its back to these sort of injustices, and your need to have a tiny taste of him, you hauled him up shore. Light as a feather in water, but heavy as lead on land. The heavy iron around his wrist didn't help, so you destroyed it, inflicting little cuts around his flesh in the process.

Ancient eyes scrutinized his form. Sharp cheekbones that could only match a sword. Strong features that screamed fighter in every direction you looked. A jagged and nasty cut on a side of his head, some strands obscuring his face, you removed them and some bloodied debris from his wound, inspecting it.

Not a too deep cut, the contusion of his head against the moving ship had been rough. A single cut in the upper right cheekbone, clothes clung to him like a second skin. His pockets however were too tempting to be left alone.

Sand and water on them, along a shiny pearl that had you staring and sniffing at the trinket for a close inspection, that didn't pay attention to the locket nesting deeper inside. The pearl was true, so you took it as it quickly etched to your skin, under the ribcage as a decor motif of the raggy top you used to cover your chest.

He'd surely serve as one of Aphrodite's lovers. His forearms laced in tiny and fading scars, that also loitered his solid and somewhat hairy chest. A man through and through. A natural enemy of yours, yet you had saved him.

Probably, he would hunt you too, like the scarce quantity of men you had pulled out of danger. The pearl was a token for saving his life.

You could kill him, filling your tabs with another number, but it wouldn't be honorable. Even if you were a different species, you refused to let some of their habits to rub on you. You opposed greatly to be like them, and so with a look that would suppose to be a final one back at him, you dipped back into the sea.

----

He was on land. Alive, heart beating along every single erratic breath. The sea waves washed over his hips, not cold neither lukewarm. Just the ideal temperature for the humid weather

I'm alive.

His mind couldn't comprehend what had happened. One moment he was in the sea, to then hurl himself back up and puke all the salty water his body had unwillingly ingested.

Miguel was dizzy, but alive. Beaten up, but still breathing. Pissed and ever ready to get his treasure back. But he had to recover some energies first.

Sighing and rising slowly, he turned around to kneel in the moist sand. Tiny grains of it etched to his moist skin, they were rough, altering his sensorial touch for a second. Feet finally got the strength to stand up, careful to not let the nauseas get to his head entirely. Skin burned, but he could bear the discomfort, what Miguel truly needed was a big gulp of water.

He remembered the sun being high on the sky, blazing with all it's glory and witnessing his crew marooning him for good. And now it was night. Somehow thankful that he didn't have to deal with the weather's inclemencies. Step by wobbly step he approached to the thickets and palms rooted in the soil, dressing up modestly the land he walked on.

As another wave of nauseas hit while his head pounded, Miguel stopped to rest in a nearby palm. Calloused hand cupping and covering his mouth to prevent the bile and vomit to spill out once more. Dehydrated as he was, Miguel also understood the dangers of drinking too much salty water.

If dehydration didn't kill him, puking too much without having any other resources on reach would. But none of his survival could be done with the unbridled headache that hammered in his head. A side of it was caked in dry blood, like some strands of his already matted and full of sand hair.

With careful steps he ventured in deeper into the jungle, looking for a spot to spent the night away from land's troubles. The island wasn't familiar for him, he didn't even know if it was big enough to harbor sustainable life, or if ships would pass nearby. With a gasp and a frantic move, he palmed his pockets.

Mierda, no! No

Panic rose upon not feeling the pearl, the sudden motion made his steps stutter as he puked, unable to hold it in anymore. But once he was done and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, he searched into them.

Por favor

The pearl was gone, that was for sure, but relief washed over him upon feeling the fine golden chain of the locket. Hand clasped on it while he brought it to his chest and sighed.

He nearly gave up.

Heart pounding in his ears along his head, and only when he opened the locket, the tears flowed. Calloused fingers full of sandy grains probed the valuable mineral, feeling the dents of the shell shape he knew by heart at this point. Eyes drowning and his voice muffled into a silent and wrathful sob as he inhaled the trinket.

Perdóname, Gabi. (Forgive me)

A faint tickle of fresh home bread, coconut oil that he used to fry the fish, and the eucalyptus ointment that was always next to him brought back the bittersweet memories that flooded his mind about the last years he had with Gabriella. She adored when he cooked, and always smelled his fingers after using the oil.

It reminds me of you, Papa.

She loved freshly baked bread. But hated the smell of the eucalyptus ointment the doctor left her.

The only memento he now had of his beloved and long gone daughter. The only thing that mattered the most for him.

How dared them betraying him when he had been everything but fair and good?

How dared them into taking his ship and some important things he had hid inside? But most importantly, how dared life to show him that mermaids were real when the reason he believed in them in the first place was no longer with him?

Who was he supposed to tell that he saw a mermaid?

A karma for turning into a pirate, maybe. All his mind was able to remember was the way the creature looked at him, a clear assessment of her power. Fear invaded every fiber of his being, making him too stunned to actually think or act until he saw the creature devouring Elliot.

Another reason for him to respect the sea. Now that he had a glimpse of what laid underneath, Miguel wondered what other things crawled in it's depths. But he would think about it all tomorrow.

His eyes drooped in exhaustion. Thinking consumed the last bit of his energy reserves. Despite the thirst clawing at his throat with a vice grip, the headache and weariness were greater. Even though a thicket wasn't the right choice to spend the night, he hadn't the time nor the energies to be picky. He just collapsed once more and hoped whoever above to live another day.

----

The sunlight was slippery enough to leak through the dense foliage and reach patches of the humid and moss textured land, as well parts of his weathered face. With a wince he rolled to his side, avoiding the aurifeous and warm touch from the ever blazing sun. Head clear from it's pain, and thoughts in order, like it should be.

With a sigh he rose and stretched, popping joints back in their place. Discomfort remaining in his head and wrists, that upon further examination he deducted the cuts in them were fresh, and undoubtedly someone had saved him from a certain death. Who, he didn't know but was grateful for the mysterious savior to let his revenge start.

With a rested yet hungry body, and a fresh head to think, he rolled his shoulders back and took a look around. Surveying his environment to decide which way to go. No weapons, no resources but packed with skills that were honed precisely for these sort of situations.

He still remembered the first time Mundaca had left him in an island with a single knife to fend for himself, since Miguel refused to accompany him in a slave hunting trip. At first he thought that Mundaca had left him for good or out of spite, but Fermín had only taught him a valuable surviving lesson. This time however, he didn't have that knife and would rely only on his hands, brain and brawns.

Naturally, Miguel headed for the north, palm trees left behind, instead acai palms, rubber trees and soursops begun gathering in the place. The scent of wet soil and rotting wood was pungent in the air, oddly, he liked it. Macaws and other birds cackled and cawed as he pushed deeper along some distant rustling.

The overgrown roots twisted and tangled here and there, weaving a walkable path free of them to his right, His eyes darted to the tail of a cobra slithering away from him, minding it's business.

The copious squaking of the birds was a good white noise along the crunching of his wet boots. His throat was beyond arid, that even spit couldn't form in it if he wished; stomach rumbled violently, begging him for some food. Breathings paused but deep.

Hours stretched for what seemed forever, he didn't know if he was walking in circles, the island was definitely not small. He had found some fruit trees along the way, but the things were so our of reach, that attempting to climb for them was a risk. He'd knew the wait would worth it.

Ears however perked at the gunshot given in the distance. Eyes widened, both in surprise and excitement at the thought that civilization was within. Cause that meant, food and water. And also weapons. And what a better way to confirm it than a booming gunshot that spooked away the nearby fawn.

With careful steps, he followed the echo, making the least of noise possible. As much as it thrilled to have a bite, he also understood the implications of such things. Armored men, guarded bodegas, overpowered foremen and probably slaves.

Time flew by, but his spirits lifted upon spotting the first red uniforms in a distance. Two of them. He approached closer to take a better look.

The soldiers had a rifle each, a belt full of ammo and firing at what were now dead slaves as shooting dummies. To his right, Miguel saw a few tents and supplies. Food and water tossed in a nearby bench, a fire was alight, serving as a cooking source for the pot placed above. His eyes however fell upon a machete. Probably belonging to one of the dead men tied up in the wooden posts.

After all, working tools had to be in perfect conditions, leaving no room for slacking off.

Miguel forayed slowly, moving within the foliage until he reached for the machete, with paced breathings he awaited for another shot to rumble to pull the weapon within his reach. The metallic drag was drowned. He couldn't eat until the men were disposed off.

Now that he was armored, a distraction was needed. The branches used for the iron's pot makeshift support were weak, the stew inside boiled. Miguel pushed the tip of the machete on the pot's edge, a little clink connected as the pot was pushed forward, but it barely tumbled it. He awaited for another gunshot to echo to push the pot entirely on the ground.

The lard immediately sent sparks on the floor as smoke surrounded the area. The noisy thud of the pot alarmed one of the guards that didn't waste time into blaming his companion for the shitty structure and how they'd have to go fishing again to get food done.

A little too late the guard noticed the fiery red eyes that glowered at him. Before he could even say something the sharp blade of the machete sliced through this throat in a firm thrust, all the guard could do was a gurgle, perturbed, before plummeting on the floor, staining the blade with a warm crimson as Miguel pulled it out of the body. Flesh sizzling at the contact of the hot coals and wood.

He took a rock that filled in his palm and aimed it for the head of the remaining guard, the other soldier yelped as he fell on the ground, the rock hitting his head with a lurid crack. Miguel lurched for him to end his misery by impaling the weapon in his back. Right in the middle. It was quick, deathly and effective.

Miguel panted but waited in case another guard was around, but none approached, just the wing flapping of a macaw somewhere. With the machete in hand he approached to the tent and wasted no time in gobbling down the water in a container, quenching his thirst, not really caring for the droplets that rolled down his neck.

His hands then wiped his face as he scrubbed the caked blood and sand away, then scarfed down the leftovers left in a plate and devoured anything within reach that was cooked or preserved, Adia probably would scold him for eating like an animal, despite being starving.

Once he was satisfied and his strength back, he looked for other weapons he could use. As much as the machete proved a worthy aid, it was long and it made noise. The opposite of what he needed.

The Red Eyed Demon searched into the soldier's pockets, a couple of coins, bullets and gold teeth that seemed freshly pulled out of the bodies in the back. He took the bullets and left the rest, he also found a short ranged pistol, a combat knife and a rope.

Also, to his luck, some fresh clothes. As much as he was set into his vengeance he wouldn't waste the chance into being comfortable while at it. His boots were soiled full of sand and saline water, he changed them, like his pants. The shirt was the only thing he kept since none of the men actually wore his size.

Ridiculous as it was, one of the soldiers had abnormally larger feet. But were perfect for him. Pants still a bit too short but he'd had them any other day instead of walking around feeling uncomfortable and itchy by the salt etched to his skin and clothes.

He ventured deeper only to find a familiar scene before him. A state. Hacienda Valverde read in the overly embellished metal structure that held the sign.

----

So far, Miguel had done a good job in keeping himself hid, the least of attention he attracted, the more successful his escape plan would be. So far he had counted around fifteen soldiers in the property. Five of them scattered through the plantations, making sure the workforce didn't dally in their duties.

He ventured over the trees, avoiding unnecessary trouble, to then land nearly quietly in a mountain of hay. His breathings stopped at every time an unsuspected guard passed by him. Heart pounded in his ears when his steps brought him closer and closer to danger

The rest of the guards were scattered through the property, watching over the stables, the main storage room, inside the hacienda and of course, watching over the supply.

He had snuck in the warehouse, to his surprise the cells were empty, he went through each of them to see if anything worthy had been left behind, but the sound of the lock being picked made him hide behind a couple of haystacks.

"Stop, Stop!" A groan came from a wriggling man, "I told you the truth! Let me go!"

Miguel couldn't see who was the prisoner, peeking out would be too risky, but the lack of accent, gave him a hint. An American.

The man grunted as he kicked, managed to land a punch or two to the guards that only twisted his shackled hands backwards. This made the man whine and curse, blind hot pain shot in his ribcage as another soldier hit him with the base of his rifle.

"Shut your fucking gob!" With a rough shove, the fighting man was thrown into the cell, the enclosure's door stilled with a loud creak as the main door was slammed shut.

The only noises the pirate could hear was the pained grunts that only increased when the prisoner tried to pick himself up from the floor, and the shaky huffing that turned into whiny whimpers when he managed to recover some air.

The day was set to surprise him, cause in his life he had seen a white man being thrown in a slave cell. Until now.

The man was tall, lean muscle in his body, a five o'clock stubble in his narrow cheeks and blue eyes. Hair hapzardly peeking ontop of his head.

"Fuck..." He groaned but recoiled in his cell even further upon seeing the shade of red glinting at him behind the haystacks. Pain screamed in every breathing he did, but that didn't stop him from trying to get himself free.

"H-Hey"

The man's eyes widened as soon as Miguel came into full view. He had to crane his head upwards to meet his eyes and gulped as soon as he realized the color in the behemoth of a man. Breaths shallow but less erratic than before now that he knew he had company.

"Please. Help me out of here, pal"

He was definitely American.

"And why would I do that?"

Miguel’s bushy brow quirked while taking another look through the warehouse, searching for alternative escape routes.

"Cause my wife just gave birth and I wanna meet my little girl."

A red stare seized the blue one. His unwavering, but the man's rivalled against it. Miguel broke contact as his hands fisted briefly. The prisoner's chest heaved whole he rubbed the area he was hit on.

Lucky bastard

"I was supposed to arrive last week but I was taken from the ship."

"Why?"

Miguel looked through the haystacks and other corners he didn't have the chance to search thoroughly.

"That's what I'd like to know!" The man sat against the lateral bars and winced defeated, watching at the moving man.

"I was a merchant, on a trip to improve a little familiar business I have, but Nueva York isn't precisely friendly with the working class." He paused to take some air the hit had taken away, "So I came back. And that's where the english trapped me." His forehead rested ontop of his scrapped and bloodied knuckles. The spark that gave him a beating and his imprisonment.

"The English are press ganging civilians at sea."

Miguel's lip twitched in a scowl upon hearing the news. Of course they would, Americans and English were too deep in political wars that could barely stand eachother. But in the sea, the English were the masters and none was there to stop them. More like he wasn't there to sink as many of them as possible.

Yet.

"How old is your daughter?"

The pirate asked above his shoulder and this made the gaoler to look up.

"Three weeks old. According to my wife's last letter."

Miguel's shoulder slumped, and he turned to look at the man. A little hesitation passed over his eyes, but it vanished as soon as he saw an old acquaintance of him. Hope. Red eyes rolled annoyed, as if regretting the sudden decision he was about to make.

"Do you know how to use a weapon?"

The question surely threw the man off, but still managed to reply

"Y-Yeah. Not fond of them, but yeah."

"Fight?"

"Not a complete useless if that's what you're hinting at."

Miguel chuckled and approached closer to the cell, examining the lock while the detainee put on his pair of boots.

"Gimme a wire and I'll get myself out of here."

Miguel instead took a nearby shovel to destroy the lock in a couple of hits. The metal piece clanking on the floor as it fell.

"O-Or you could do that. Yeah."

The man stood on his feet and stretched before offering his hand to him, Miguel just stared at him for a moment before taking his hand in a firm shake. Peter hid a wince at the sheer display of strength and that he had grabbed his injured hand.

"Peter B. Parker. Merchant and lock master."

"Miguel O'Hara. Pirate."

Peter could only blink stupidly at him.

"Let's go."

But followed him without much thought.

-----

Taglist:

@nerdykat @munixumai @raiirai @sarapaprikas-blog @deputy-videogamer @rizahawkeye1380 @littlenyx @marit332 @iz-iplier @mad-hatter-rici @viriexo @obi-mom-kenobi @allysunny @lishdfish @not-ur-average-fangirl @freehentai @darksidecorner @winteringfalls @ellasarich @eustashh @nyxismoon @murnsondock @pluviophilis @oooof-ifellforyou @plusultrayokai @teacoffeeflavored @ctizu1 @dickfartcheesy @s0lm1n @vonev @iwumrndbm @azuredragonstrike @Iyykeyyy @arrozyfrijoles23 @frompeach @ghostlyworld @liamdasimp @straw-berry-ghoul

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara #astv miguel #gabi o'hara #peter b parker #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader #x reader #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara fanfiction #pirate au #mermaid au

311 notes · View notes

thoughtfulchaos773 · 4 months

Text

Meta Masterlist

In No Particular Order...

What is the thing? What is a good thing?

A show about a self-hatred, love, and connection.

True Intimacy for Carmy...

Carmy the Artist

Never apologize

Season 2 & episode titles gives us a glimpse into Syd x Carmy’s love story.

Season 2 and Strange Currencies

Syd x Carmy: The creation of Eros

Syd + Carmy- Labels

Carmy and the walk in

Carmy + Amends

Seven Fishes and The Timer Part One

Seven Fishes and The Timer Part Two

Where's That Phone Call?

Season 3 and The lay of the land

Syd, Carmy, + Anhedonia

Sydney's Search for Connection

The Muse Theory

The Bear and Corresponding Episode Moments

the Vow

Sydney and The Focal Point Part One

Sydney and The Focal Point Part 2

Monster

Fak and Richie's Roles

Touch

Richie + Carmy-Kin

Being Shitty

Concept of Time

Clock is Ticking

Sorry Sign

Refire the Sets

The use of the word thought

Syd and Carmy- A Lover's Quarrel

The Meaning of Pop

Fixing and Empathy

Sydney's Reactions

Sydney and Carmy Certain of Nothing

Sydney and The Sense of Urgency

The Subconscious and Cinematography

The Hues in Carmy's Mind

Syd and Carmy- Romantic Beats

Mars and Venus

I wasn't Jealous or Anything

Jeff's Friend

The Painting

Sydney and Carmy Timeline

Fishes Opening Scene Analysis

#chaotic blog needed organizing #sydcarmy #carmy x sydney #the bear fx #meta masterlist #i need to organize my predictions #i said the bear will have four seasons and sydcarmy will sail 4th season #thoughtful chaos posts

130 notes · View notes

screemnch · 11 months

Text

Yeah, the gay doctors are cool and all, but have you ever thought about

Aglaya Lilich?????

I swear to god she is the most character of all time. She is smart, she is capable, discerning and even sometimes kind and YET!

Everyone must hate her. She can’t do anything right - not for the lack of trying or being incapable - but because that is not her role. She isn’t the hero who saves the town from the plague and she isn’t the solution. The Powers That Be gave her an impossible task and promised to send her to death if she fails, there is probably already a coffin in the capital made just for her and she is still trying.

And I have to reiterate that everyone MUST hate her. Maria hates her because of Nina and because of the polyhedron, Block hates her because of the manufactured stigma, most npc’s speak about her with either fear or resentment. Even the healers all have a bone to pick with her (including Artemy, depending on how you play). And that’s not to say that she’s blameless or anything - she is still ruthless and unrelenting. She still orders many people to their death and tells a couple of characters to just go and drop dead, but I feel like that’s to be expected of a few other characters as well.

And yet.

She opens up the termitary (if I remember correctly) allowing the few survivors to get help and exposing the Olgimsky’s to judgement from the Kin. She saves Peter from Saburov’s murder plan without hesitation (if I remember correctly - before she even sees the tower’s blueprints). She wants to mend her relationship with the last of her family, even though they’ll never forgive her. And on the final day without fail - she leaves the decision in the player’s hands. If Dankovsky was right and she was trying to destroy the polyhedron simply as a final stab at the Kains, she’d be much more insistent about it, as we know she can be. But she acknowledges her biases and abstains from weighing in on the argument. She is convinced that her decision is correct (unlike Block, who is here to execute and order, not make decisions) yet she lets the player take the lead. I haven’t seen most of patho 2, and I know that she does a few things differently there, but I can assure you it will also make me have a lot of thoughts about her.

She is also perfectly aware of her situation. She is hated by the Powers That Be - both the government and the little kids. No one wants her here, no one trusts her, she is basically sent to die. But still she resolves to try to right the wrongs and help people as much as she can (which is particularly fun because a lot of people like to view Daniil’s story as that predicament). And while I don’t particularly like to talk about romance when analyzing stuff, it’s important to point out that (as far as I know) in both patho classic and patho 2 her themes are quite strongly connected with the concept of love. I’m not familiar enough with that part of the story, but the fact that someone can be in such a dire, desperate situation and still find in themselves the capacity for trust, vulnerability and affection is… Not something I can describe well in my vocabulary.

Honestly can’t wait to look at her dialogue, too bad she’s not part of any faction in particular and probably will be one of the last characters I look at. I should draw her, maybe. Go insane, maybe.

#pathologic #aglaya lilich #ramblings #whenever people kinda gloss over her existence it’s like #god forbid women do anything

175 notes · View notes

sunpoweredog · 1 month

Note

I saw your views on monotherians/kin and just wanted to say I relate a LOT. Of course, I don’t doubt their existence or their identities, I just personally really struggle with the idea of being more than one species/animal. I can’t wrap my head around it. My brain just kinda goes “nope” at the idea, like it’s unfathomable somehow.

I don’t know. Just wanted to say that, and drop by and say hello of course!

Hi!! (yay there's a cat in my askbox!)

Yeah I understand that completely! I'm very interested in the concept though and even made a couple of posts with questions about how polykin expreince themselves. Still didn't help me a lot, unfortunately!

And while I don't need to understand someone's identity in order to respect it, it feels like a weird itch in my brain that I cannot scratch :"D

At the same time, if someone says they're, for example, a shapeshifter with favourite forms of a mouse, a seal and a lion, that settles it for my brain (weird!)

52 notes · View notes

factual-fantasy · 6 months

Note

Heya Factual! Wanted to give ya a million pats on the back for the new art- obviously it looks great as always- but also I'm always excited for new Grimace lore! The monopoly gag was hilarious- I actually thought it was serious for a moment- and then I was ecstatic to see him finally evolve into a Gengar- now he looks even more like Grimace than ever before!

Seeing him evolve reminded me of an interesting fact that I wanted to tell you and Grimace- it's been recently confirmed that Gengar is actually the favorite Pokemon of Atsushi Nagashima, the game director of the entire Pokemon TCG! He said during a recent tour that that's the reason Gengar gets so many cards every year- is because he just likes him a whole lot! So anytime Grimace is feeling down, he can remember that he and his kin hold a special place in the heart of the man responsible for balancing their very existence- at least on the table top!

As for my usual Mario stuff- thanks again for answering my last batch of Asks- I think your implementation of Snifits especially will work quite well! And as for today- I just wanted to keep it simple, and ask for some clarifications regarding an already existing species in the AU, if that's okay, that being the spooky scary dry bones!

You've mentioned them a couple times I'm the past- I believe as creations of Kamek- but I don't think you've ever drawn them- any ideas what they'd look like in your style? Would they maintain any semblance of their former selves- or be mindless zombies like in the movie? What would be involved in creating one? And would the spell only work on normal koopas- or would it be used to raise other creatures- perhaps even deceased royal Koopas to create dry Bowsers!?

And also as a sort of side Ask- have you seen the Super Mario Bros Movie yet? If you have what did you think? I noticed you mention it in the last post regarding the Snifits- but I couldn't tell if you were talking about the trailer or the film itself...

(Oh, and as always, thanks for taking the time to answer all our Asks- hope you're finally over the hill and feeling a bit better!)

@neo-metalscottic (Monopoly gag post) (Gengar evolve post)

Thank you so much!! :DD I'm glad you had fun with those posts! XDD And that's so interesting! :0 I would have thought his favorite Pokémon was Pikachu XDD

Now for your dry bones questions...

As for the royal koopas thing.. When Kamek beings something to live/back to life. They are basically just a mindless zombie. They hold no memories of their old selves it seems.. so when a royal koopa dies, they just let them rest. Becuase bringing them back to life would just make them this mindless drone.. not only would it be disgusting and depressing, but its also probably seen as rather disrespectful. To bring someone of such high status back to life as a mindless slave is just.. not great. Hence why Bowsers wife was simply buried when she passed. There's nothing Kamek could do to bring the real her back..

As for the dry bones, I have a solid concept. Buuuut I'm not super sure how it fits into the AU quite yet..

I was thinking that however many years ago.. there was some kind of war or battle that the koopa kingdom was involved in. And they were losing. They were losing too many soldiers.. So out of desperation.. The current king and queen ordered Kamek to do the unthinkable. Bring their fallen soldiers back to life..

They won the battle. But at a cost. Now the majority of their army/citizens are these mindless zombies.. its hard to say how much of the original koopa remains in these dry bones.. since they don't seem to have any memories of their past life..

The remaining living koopas would eventually repopulate and grow in in numbers. They would also learn to live along side the dry bones.. But its always really disturbing to be a koopa and seeing your great grandfather's corpse mindlessly wandering the streets.. still wearing the same armor he was wearing when he died during the great war..

As for their appearance, I actually pictured them being rather large skeletons. A lot of them are missing limbs or have broken bones.. they are all wearing old timey armor that they had on during the war. They are rather mindless and unresponsive to most things.. Though I imagine when some kind of danger is spotted, they suddenly jump to life and become really animated. Rushing towards the threat and neutralizing it swiftly and violently. Just like the soldiers did back in the day..

Once the threat is neutralized, they slump their shoulders. And begin to slowly wander again…

There's a lot I would like to do with this. I wanna experiment with the koopas interacting with the dry bones. Perhaps covering them in flowers to pay respects but to also make them seem less scary to children..

Perhaps some koopa families find their relatives and guide them by the hand back home and have them participate in family gatherings. Maybe its their way of coping.. or they're just showing love. "No matter how far gone you seem or how long ago you died, I still love you. And you are still apart of this family." 🥺

Sometime I'd like to draw them on my pc. But as it stands I'm still rather unwell and cant sit at my desk for very long 😭💔

As a last note, I did finally watch the Mario movie! :D... IIIIt was about what I expected. <XD

Other than Mario and Luigi's relationship being spot on? I found myself rolling my eyes the whole movie. Its probably safe to say that I'm not the target audience and that most people had a lot of fun with it.

And hey! If I didn't like the movie, I can just make my own Mario universe. Which is what I did! XDD

#my response #super mario bros #thanks a ton for the ask!! :DD #dry bones

64 notes · View notes

dorianwolfforest · 2 months

Text

"Dorian you havent talked about your SSO OC's in DECADES and I'm feeling so lost and blue! Please please please tell me about your ocs!!!" I hear you say, and I understand, so I bring you now a comprehensive guide of all of my sso oc's and their role in the story of Star Stable online. As this is up to date on lore, there will be spoilers for the main quests in here.

Dorian Wolf - he/him

Also known as: The orange one, idiot coughing baby, my child, Rob's husband

Dorian Wolf grew up in Valedale, the oldest of three children, in a (non-druid, keeper-unrelated) cult called the Light of Aideen. The Light of Aideen valued femininity and the likeness of their goddess above all else, and as a result of this Dorian was often looked down upon in favor of his two younger sisters. Already as a young child he learned how to cook, he was taught ballet (and figure skating in the winter), and when he was left unsupervised, he experimented with the powers of witchcraft he was born with, something he had to keep from the cult due to their volatile nature toward witches. When he turned 18, Dorian fled Valedale and found refuge in Ydris' circus, where he works to this day as a trapeze artist and occasional helper around the grounds.

He's a gentle, kind, and thoughtful guy who doesn't understand the concept of being evil for the sake of being evil, often giving people the benefit of the doubt despite what their previous actions would lead any reasonable person to believe. This has led him into a romantic relationship with Rob the smuggler.

Rebeca Forest - they/them

Also known as: Warthilk the void demon, Ah Fuck Which Order Do These Hair Colors Go In, Bisexual hair guy, Violence upon the village

This bad boy can have so many detachable eyeballs. Rebeca (then Warthilk) was summoned by Dorian one stormy night when Dorian tried to use his witchy powers to summon a glass of warm milk. He misspelled the necessary runes and instead summoned Warthilk, the void demon. Dorian immediately unbound the demon from him, apologizing profusely for the intrusion, and Warthilk, who usually enjoyed spreading chaos and cruelty across the land, felt so fucking bad for this pathetic, wet noodle of a man, that they adopted a human name and now spends their days making sure Dorian is okay. They live at the circus but do not, under any circumstances, help out.

When they think they can get away with it, Rebeca will make peoples lives miserable. If they think Dorian will catch on, or if they think their actions will negatively impact Dorian, they will instead collect themselves and repress the urge to ruin peoples days.

Sienna Opaldew - she/her

Also known as: The token cis, Reasonable ms stuck up fancypants, That is not your natural red stop lying, The Mom Friend, trust fund

Sienna has lived in England her entire life, surrounded by all the riches her father could possibly surrender to her. She always had the finest clothes, the finest horses, and the finest gear. That satisfied her until her 20's, when she found herself pregnant, single, and ostracized from her usual social life. In an effort to find some kind of community beyond her father's pockets, Sienna tried to figure out where her mother, who left the family when Sienna was a baby, could possibly be. After figuring out that her birthmother lived on Jorvik, Sienna moved over there without so much as a thought, desperate to find some kin that could love and appreciate her and her son for who they are, rather than for financial gain. That was never to be, however. Sienna's real mother is Ms Drake, and when she finally finds her Jorvegian side of the family, her parents start to use her against each other.

Sienna does have friends and a support system in Dorian, Rebeca and Percy, however, and helps them out financially when they struggle (something Rebeca accepts readily and happily) in return for some babysitting duties. Her son, Nicholas, is 2 years old when the story takes place. Sienna is not a soul rider.

Persephone Nightmore - she/they

Also known as: Percy Nightmore, Sephia Nightmore, The discord kitten, e-girlboy, the one not traumatized

The more I look at the art I've drawn of Percy, the more I realize I have no fucking clue who they are. She's still relatively new to the roster. They are a twitch streamer who's "close" with Sienna. They are not a soul rider. That's it. That's all I got. Love her tho.

Rose Bittering - he/they

Also known as: The guy with a gun, Half-man one-third-pink-crystal the-rest-machine, Fucking weirdo

Rose is, without a shadow of a doubt, a bad person. He works for DC, creating the drones and robots the company uses to spy on soul riders, transport Darkonium and disrupt the druids. If you've ever destroyed one of his precious creations, they will shoot you with bullets. Rose hates the robot guards on the DC oil rig, as they were set up by the previous mechanic and are not his own creation.

Rose is only loyal to DC because they fund his own habits and experiments, allowing him to do whatever it is they do in their lab without checking up on him. Some of the things they do include: watching anime illegally, cannibalism, and putting metal in microwaves "just to see what happens".

When Rose was a young teen, they got trapped in Pandoria for a long period of time and, as such, suffer severe crystalization which has carved out a large portion of their back, their eye, and has rotted off a finger. He is so overexposed and radiated that he often breaks digital things, preferring instead to work with old-fashioned mechtech. It is very possible that he was killed in the DC oil rig explosion, but if he wasn't then he will soon perish as his body is continuously failing him and he has to continue to upkeep parts of himself, such as a makeshift, magically infused spine, in order to function as a person.

#my babies #sso #my ocs <3 #theyre all sooo normal #sso spoilers

23 notes · View notes

thetruthwilloutsworld · 6 months

Text

Instagram scottishaerialexplorer

CLANS OF SCOTLAND ⚔️🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 Part 1

1. Inverary Castle | Clan Campbell

2. Dunollie Castle | Clan MacDougall

3. Achnacarry Castle | Clan Cameron

4. Old Castle Lachlan | Clan Maclachlan

5. Castle Leod | Clan Mackenzie

6. Ardverikie Castle | Clan MacPherson

7. RobRoy MacGregor Statue | Clan McGregor

8. Drumin Castle | Clan Gordon

9. Kildrummy Castle | Clan Mar

10. Castle Fraser | Clan Fraser Of Philorth

11. Wardhill Castle | Clan Leslie

12. Esslemont Castle | Clan Cheyne

In the annals of Scottish history, a tale as ancient as the mist-shrouded glens unfolds, a tale of kinship, resilience, and the enduring spirit of the Highlands.

Here, amidst the beautiful landscapes of Scotland, the tradition of clans emerged, weaving together Celtic, Norman-French, and Norse threads into a rich tapestry of heritage.

At the heart of this tradition lies the concept of the clan - a term derived from the Gaelic word 'clann,' signifying "family", yet extending its embrace to all who pledged allegiance to the clan chief. Whether by blood or by bond, members found solace and strength within the protective embrace of their kin.

Led by a clan chief, these communities forged a way of life shaped by the rhythms of the land-farming, tending to livestock, and engaging in the timeless rituals of Highland culture. Yet, amidst the tranquility of everyday existence, the specter of conflict loomed large.

The turbulent currents of Scottish history bore witness to countless clashes-clan against clan, invader against defender - as land and legacy hung in the balance. But it was the fateful Battle of Culloden in 1746 that delivered the decisive blow, shattering the old order and ushering in an era of upheaval.

The Highland clearances dispersed clans and severed bonds. In the hearts of those tracing their lineage to Scotland's soil, the spirit of the clans endures, a testament to community, resilience, and the timeless majesty of the Scottish Highlands.

27 notes · View notes

hell-drabbles · 4 months

Note

Hi!!! I would like to apologise first for my bad english but reading through your blog made me think of something: How do you feel about an Angel! Companion not the angst one where they got angelification but as in God's creation. Companion is somewhat of an angel already on how they correct and guide Ra-on.

Angel! Companion who is a blank slate grew up with Ra-on and Minhyeok who later started to adapt human emotions.

Angel! Companion who died protecting Ra-on and causing him a mental break down.

Angel! Companion who after their death methamorphosise(?) into their angel form.

Ra-on who is feeling conflicted, happy to see his companion alive but at the same feeling betrayed/ in disbelief by Angel! Companion's secret.

Angels who are obsessed with regrooming Angel! Companion out of their humanity because they are not letting their youngest sibling not know about Angel Ethics.

Sorry for the long paragraph. I'm kinda obsessing over the whole wolf in sheep's clothing concept. I am sooo interested in your thoughts or HC about this.

Let's see... Well, I hope you don't mind if my thoughts go all over the place and in no chronological order.

Playing around with a concept like that, I would imagine that this Companion was essentially God's last creation before he vanished, a sort of incomplete creation at that because they had basically nothing. No role, no position or anything of the sort. Really, the only thing they have going on in their head is that drive to seek out God, if only to find out the reason why he made them this way. And so, without telling anyone, and without anyone caring, they simply wandered out of Heaven and went to the human world.

They wander, probably take on the form of a kid and end up meeting Ra-on and Minhyeok and the rest is basically history. While it's not official that the Companion is adopted, the Companion is either living with Ra-on or Minhyeok. Childhood shenanigans ensue, kiddos admiring the coolheadedness of the Companion, their big ol strength.

And, of course, the tragedy happens. Ra-on parents are killed. My angsty brain wants to have the Companion be there for that event. Death isn't new to them so they're not in a state of panic, but it's still incredibly unsettling to see the Companion covered in blood while curled over Ra-on as they blocked his ears.

I like to imagine that the angel that killed Ra-on's parents recognized the Companion as one of their kin and actually pats the Companion on the head for the sheer level of emotional manipulation they're doing on Solomon's bloodline. They'll come for Ra-on later, so make sure he doesn't die to something stupid. This angel is talking some real revealing stuff so the Companion has to block Ra-on's ears.

This type of Companion would have a different dynamic with Ra-on compared to the original, because this Companion would be more driven by guilt for intentionally keeping Ra-on in the dark about some heavy shit. Leads to a lot of avoidant behavior on the Companion's part and any anger would just, be pushed riiiight down because the guilt would come back. Then they'd just, disengage from any and all conversations and just, calm down. This does lead to Ra-on believing that he's a burden to them, that the Companion can't stand the sight of him anymore. He tries to close the deepening gap, but until the root of the problem is solved, it's only going to make things worse. Are they even friends anymore?

The answer is yes, and it is unfortunate that they're both controlled by deep shame of themselves. The Companion can and will risk their life for Ra-on, because how else can they make up for the fact that they've been lying by omission for all these years.

And so comes the time for the Companion to finally be free of that disguise of theirs. Whatever the circumstances, be it to save their own life or some sort of messed up rebirth, the Companion is back to how they used to look, and now Ra-on has to digest the fact they've been lying for so many years. But, as much as he wants to be angry, the Companion was then stolen away, back to Heaven.

Man, I really wish I had more information regarding Heaven and how it works. My brain can only create so much before it spits out not so good ideas.

#admin #embittered companion au

19 notes · View notes

extraordinarilyextreme · 8 months

Text

today, i wanna talk about this point that i've referenced a couple times across my yrzx fics:

For the fate of the world, Wang Ye relinquished his days of peace and tranquility. To save Zhuge Qing’s life, Wang Ye could sacrifice everything beneath the heavens. (from 岁月不待人 | the moon and the tides, you and i)

i'll start during Beijing arc, when ZCL asks why WY doesn't just give up Feng-hou Qimen to the ppl who want it.

in the manhua (ch. 185) & donghua (s3, ep. 3), WY's response is vague: "for various reasons, i can't give out [that power]."

(note that the dialogue differs slightly btwn these two adaptations, but the meaning is the same)

but in the live-action (s1, ep. 22), WY clearly explains that "it would throw the ways of this world into greater disorder. this calamitous fate must be shouldered by me alone."

these lines perfectly demonstrate one of WY's most defining traits: 心怀天下 / a heart that cradles everything beneath the heavens.

we see it first during the tournament arc, when WY admits to ZCL that he didn't need to get involved in this mess—but did so anyway because the fate of the world was implicated.

WY: Actually, whatever happens to you all has nothing to do with me. No matter how terrible the world ends up, I can still protect myself and my family and keep us unscathed. So, actually, I shouldn't have come here. [...] ZCL: What you mean is that if I continue my investigation, the future of this world may very likely develop in a bad direction. Daozhang, who this "bad future" impacts isn't limited to only me, right? The two of us are neither kin nor kith; you wouldn't have come to get caught up in these troubled waters because of me, right? WY: This, involves another concept. I call it the weight of fate. [...] And you, Zhang Chulan, you hold a high ratio of that weight. Your choice will change the fates of many, many people. (LA s1, ep. 14; see also manhua chs. 121-122 & donghua s2, ep. 12)

this is the extent of WY's selflessness. and as his conversation w ZCL continues, something else is revealed to us.

ZCL: The you who could have stayed out of this matter entirely chose instead to come here and persuade me. Did you also not choose the future that would have been best for you? (LA s1, ep. 14)

that 'something' is none other than WY's conduct: 明知山有虎，偏向虎山行 / knowing full well the mountains harbor tigers, yet insisting on traveling deep into the mountains anyway. or, in other words, the practice of forging on into promised danger.

which, coincidentally, is exactly how WY praised Zhuge Liang's character during his match against ZGQ.

可他却放弃了作为一个修者该坚守的一切。就算逆大势而行，也要投身到乱世当中，只为了去救那个明知已无可救药的天下。/ But he chose to give up everything that a cultivator should uphold and protect. Even if it meant opposing the momentum of the times, he threw himself utterly into chaos of the mortals—all to save a world he knew full well was beyond redemption. 为了那个天下情愿去和天理和大势对抗 / For that world, he was willing to hold off divine order and destiny itself. 明知不可为而为，这就是他那个级别的术士作为。/ To do something knowing full well of its impossible nature—this was the practice of a sorcerer of his caliber. (LA s1, ep. 13; see also manhua ch. 110 & donghua s2, ep. 10)

with such a heart of compassion (怜悯之心, HMH's words) and sense of responsibility, WY is unlike anyone else in his generation. instead, it can be argued that the character most similar to WY is in fact one of his seniors, lao-Tianshi.

they are, at least in the LA, the only two 麒麟 in the story after all (s1, eps. 8 & 20):

and just like lao-Tianshi, it's easy to think of WY as a saint (圣人) or a god—something "above" mortal humans. he's operating on a scale (格局) far greater than anyone else in our main cast; WY is always taking the whole world into consideration, even if that's the choice least favorable to him.

(LA s1, ep. 23)

and then Beijing arc happens. and by the end of it, WY has an epiphany:

“The me who has always avoided involvement with worldly affairs has no right to speak of leaving them behind.” (manhua ch. 196; see also LA s1, ep. 23 & donghua s3, ep. 7)

he's begun to have a reckoning with his own human-ness. he's starting to realize that he's fallible, that he's ordinary and secular, that he has attachments—and, importantly, that he wants attachments. that he desires companionship (just as humans are wont to do).

and it's with that moment of enlightenment that we dive into Biyou Village arc.

because, overall, WY has not actually changed that much. he still feels responsible for the peace and safety of the world; he still wants to figure out how ZCL and FBB are related to the Jiashen Calamity. he still remembers clearly what Hong-ye said: "you are the chosen one." (LA s1, ep. 4)

and even ZGQ himself remarks (manhua ch. 228; see also donghua s4, ep. 5):

yet when ZGQ's safety is at stake, WY doesn't hesitate for even a moment:

(donghua s4, ep. 5; see also manhua ch. 228)

that is not the conduct of someone who always thinks about the bigger scheme of things. that's the conduct of someone making a choice for himself, an arguably selfish choice, to save his friend and doom everyone else.

WY would sooner give up his Feng-hou Qimen and restart the Jiashen Calamity than see ZGQ in danger. that is how important ZGQ is to WY.

在王也的心中，诸葛青的命比天下苍生还重要。/ in Wang Ye's heart, Zhuge Qing's life is more important than everyone in beneath the heavens.

and that's because ZGQ is the first of his generation to approach him. to make an effort to befriend him. to look beyond the power he possesses and also see him.

(LA s1, ep. 15; see also manhua ch. 131 & donghua s2, ep. 14)

in other words, it was ZGQ who made WY's godlike love for the world human. WY is no longer an outside viewer looking down on the plane he feels beholden to; WY is a part of this secular world, and that is why he should want to protect it.

because the red dust realm is where ZGQ exists. here is where their bond exists.

(unrelated pic from manhua ch. 196; see also donghua s3, ep. 7)

tldr: Wang Ye places the world before himself, and Zhuge Qing before the world.

— all this to say, i really am excited for s2 of the live-action, even though the casting rumors have been disheartening. Biyou Village arc is a climactic chapter for YeQing, so i hope the adaptation does it justice.

(LA s1, ep. 27)

#异人之下 #i am nobody #cdrama ramblings #yeqing #一人之下 #hitori no shita #crossposted from twitter but this version is much longer lol #does this count as meta? i always hesitate to use that word bc i read other ppl's stuff and im like WOW #THAT'S MINDBLOWING #but i feel like this is just 'they really really care a lot about each other please cry with me'

38 notes · View notes