#OF DIRECTLY INTERACTING WITH SOMEONE LIKE ITS AWFUL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mochinomnoms · 4 months

Note

Hello I saw your event and got interested! I was wondering if you could do #24 with Idia (romantic, fluff, and suggestive if possible) with fem!reader?

idia shroud x f!reader [tags] – romantic, fluff, suggestive [wc} – 3, 241 prompt 24: “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” “Why?” “If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” notes - the only way to write idia is kind pathetic like a wet cat. i love pathetic men a floral inconvenience

According to legend, a Japanese emperor gave blue hydrangeas to the girl he loved, to apologize for neglecting her and to show how much he really cared for her. Their petal shape resembles a beating heart.

Idia thinks that he was cursed in a past life for doing something awful. Maybe he kidnapped someone’s kid and tried to kill them. Maybe he tried to overthrow the gods and take over himself, but failed miserably. Or maybe, worst of all: broke someone’s limited-edition, vintage Tokyo Mew Mew Ichigo figurine.

He sure as the underworld that he did something, why else would he be puking up hanahaki flowers like some cringey Canon x Reader fanfic?

“Big Bro! You really should go to the school infirmary, the petals and stems can cause irritation and damage to the trachea and nasopharynx if not treated properly!”

Ortho was currently hovering over him, fretting like a mother hen over her chick. How ironic, Idia thought as he picked at the petals still in his teeth, it was for the little brother to be caring for the elder.

“Why do that when I can just have the school delivery bots bring me medicine. Then I won’t have to interact with anyone, I’d literally DIE if anyone saw me like this…”

Especially if the Prefect saw him. The image of her sweet face, and beaming smile…like a scene from a shoujo manga, flooded his mind. He could practically hear her voice, full of concern, asking, “Are you okay, Idia?”

Idia fell into a sneezing fit, petals flying from his mouth and nose as his sneezes continued, one after the other, until he was also thrown into a hoarse, wet-sounding cough.

“Big Bro! That’s it, you’re going to the nurse!” Ortho, despite being quite small, grabbed Idia by the back of his striped pajama shirt, much like one grabs a wet cat by the scruff of its neck.

“UUuuuuuuuuuughghuguguguhidonwannaaaaaaaaAAAAAHHHh!” Idia cried out in a whiney, high-pitched tone.

His brother, perhaps taking pity on his brother, took the shortcut to the infirmary, cutting directly pass the buildings and fields as Idia’s arms and legs loosely flew like cooked spaghetti noodles. Flying through the window that Nurse Goethel often kept open for fresh air, Ortho plopped Idia into a spare bed, who collapsed like a ragdoll into the thin mattress.

“I’ll go check you in with the Nurse, I’ll be right back, please make yourself comfortable Idia!”

Idia gave a muffled grumble as a response, shoving his face further into the hard surface of the bed with a sense of dread. He could hear Ortho speak with Goethel at her desk.

Well, he thought, at least she won’t see me looking all gross and lovesick like some normie—

“Idia, oh my god, are you sick?”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”

A shrill, ear-splitting shriek left his mouth as the flames of his hair blew up into a blazing hot pink. Idia bolted him, a sharp pain hitting the top of his head as he heard you yelp. As he rubbed the pained spot, Idia noticed that you too were rubbing your chin. Oh Sevens, he hit your chin with his big, stupid head.

“Ooowwwww, damn Idia, you hit hard…” you hissed, though you gave him a sweet smile in reassurance.

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have scared you…though why are you covered in flowers?”

Idia froze, debating on whether or not he should open his mouth and potentially say something damning, or just stay quiet and hope you’d just get weirded out and leave.

“Because he’s an idiot who didn’t come to immediately see me at the first petal cough!”

The nurse came up to Idia with a disapproving glare, handing you a clipboard and pen before slipping on a clean pair of gloves.

“Prefect, please check the boxes for every symptom I find. I believe I know what it is, but we need to check all our bases.”

Idia peeked at you from the corner of his eye as you smiled at him, waving your fingers as the nurse whispered a spell to turn her magic pen into a makeshift flashlight.

“Now, open up and say ‘ah’ so I can see what those flowers are doing to you.”

Following her instructions, Idia tried his best to be a cooperative and willing patient, if just to get out of here faster. Unfortunately, your presence only seemed to make it harder to do so, as hydrangea flowers bloomed from the pores of his skin, focusing particularly around his hands and neck.

The nurse, he’s sure, could also see the magic sparkles forming as a new bouquet formed through his throat and shot up his mouth. She tsked, leaning back to allow Idia to hack out the now decent sized hydrangea bouquet. They were a vibrant blue, much like his hair.

“Ah, go, go on and let it out.” The nurse waved a hand at Ortho. “Dear, please fetch your brother a cup of the tea I have brewing at my desk. Prefect? Please note that the patient has no evidence of root growth in his throat.”

“Root growth!? Is my brother going to be okay?” Ortho worriedly rushed over, the tea spilling over the rim of the foam cup. “Is it a curse or disease? Is my brother growing a plant in his lungs!?”

“Ortho, you scanned me earlier this week, remember?” Idia hoarsely replied, taking the tea to gingerly sip at it. “Nothing in ‘em, or my stomach ‘cept ramen noods.”

“A WEEK?!” The three of you flinched at the shrill gasp of Goethel, who was glaring daggers at Idia. “Mr. Shroud, you’ve been sick with an unknown flora disease and you didn’t even bother to let the staff know? What if you were contagious!!”

Idia shrank into himself as he whispered, “It’s not like I leave my room…”

“Bateria or the pollen could’ve gotten into the air vents and infected the rest of your dorm, ugh.” The nurse sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before addressing you. “Miss Y/N, if you mark down the lack of root growth, fever, and magical origin of the flowers, what do you get?”

He watched as you flipped through the clipboard, smile slightly faltering as you read one of the papers. You cleared your face briefly, before smiling politely back at the nurse and Idia.

“Based on everything, it seems that Idia most likely has the flower sickness, also known as the love sickness, petal fever, or, most commonly, hanahaki.”

Idia cringed at the cold, monotone sound of your voice. Now he’d done it. You knew, somehow you knew that he had the biggest, fattest, most twitterpated-full crush on you. No, crush was understated. He had dreams of you, the cringiest, domestic fantasy-based shit where he’d imagine you, waking up in bed with him back at the Island of Woe. You had given him a sleepy smile as you curled into side, naked. With a smile and a kiss to his lips, dream you turned over to hover over him, trailing small kisses and love bites down his body, further and further as you whispered to him, over and over, “I love you, Idia—”

A queasy, dizzying feeling fell over Idia as a particularly painful croup caused him to double over and vomit last night's dinner alongside blue, heart-shaped petals.

“Idia!”

“Big Brother!”

“Shroud—Prefect, hold his hair back! Ortho, grab the trashcan, I’ll go get some cleaning supplies and new sheets.”

Nurse Goethel barked orders to the other two, who quickly jumped into action. Idia could feel a shiver as he felt your hands softly grasp his flaming hair, fingers grazing his cheek as you tucked his bangs behind his ears. He could barely make out your coos, no doubt comforting him. You must be disgusted seeing him like this, having to care for a sopping wet cat of a man. Ortho was holding the trash can, right on time for Idia to hurl some more flowers and stomach acid.

“Oh, Idia…you poor thing.” You whispered into his ear, unintentionally causing his body to warm up and a chill go down his spine to settle in his abdomen. He was very aware that if he turned his head to look at you, he’d get a faceful of your chest like some harem isekai protag, the thought making him warm further and his tips pink again.

“I didn’t realize you were feeling this bad, Idia…” Ortho murmured, guilt in his voice. “I should’ve brought you sooner…”

“N-no…” Idia gravelly replied, wiping his mouth clean. “It’s not your fault Ortho, don’t beat yourself over it.”

Ortho still looked guilty, but nodded in affirmation, glancing at briefly at the Prefect. His gaze flitted between the two, and Idia could briefly see Ortho’s eyes go blank, as they did when searching through his knowledge database.

“Miss Prefect!” Ortho chirped, voice now perky much to Idia’s concern. “May I ask for a spare infirmary shirt for my brother? He must be very uncomfortable in his soiled one!”

Idia was now firmly and acutely aware of your hands still on him, thumb rubbing soothingly into his temple.

“Oh, of course Ortho.” You moved away, hands hovering for just a moment, as you replied, “They’re in the storage, I’ll be right back!”

Idia watched as you walked away into the infirmary storage. Ortho did as well, waiting until you were out of earshot to excitedly whisper, “Idia! I know it’ll be an easy fix!”

“Huh?” Idia rose an eyebrow at his brother, confusion setting in.

“It’s a love sickness, and you love the Prefect—Idia stop looking at me like that—so if you confess to them, the flowers will go away!”

Idia was still giving Ortho a horrified look, as he continued.

“Based on the timing of your reactions in correlation with close proximity within the Prefect, along with your increased heart rate at their touch, speech, and glances, and the fact that the Prefect stated on December 15th at 11:18:53 pm that she likes hydrangeas, she is the cause of the sickness. Right?”

“Ortho!’ Idia hissed, grabbing at his brother to shut him up despite Ortho not technically having a mouth.

“Quiet down, this isn’t some otome game where I can cheat and look online for the right responses. Did you see how she reacted earlier when she found out it was hanahaki, how disappointed she looked? There’s no way Y/N—I mean the Prefect, didn’t connect the dots.

“But, Big Brother!” Ortho whined, “Based on her heart rate and increased body temperature—”

“No is no, Ortho! It’s not going to be such an easy fix, I’ll just get rejected!”

“Technically speaking—” Idia and Ortho both jumped at the nurse’s voice, who was coming back from storage with clean linens. The Prefect followed with a new shirt.

“—you don’t need your beloved to accept your feelings, just confess them. Though it’s quite rare that it’s not reciprocated.”

The nurse motioned for Idia to get up as the Prefect handed him the shirt. She began taking the sheets off as the nurse addressed the two brothers.

“Mr. Shroud, if you are insisting on keeping this sickness intact for fear of rejection, then I will have to ask Professor Crewel for some more potent ingredients for your prescription. Little Shroud?”

“Oh, yes Nurse Goethel?”

“I could use your assistance, please come with me, Miss Y/N will tend to your brother,” She had a smug tone and smirk as she said this, motioning for Ortho to follow. “Mr. Shroud, please have no worry, she makes an excellent student nurse!”

Idia let out a defeated, low, whiney groan as he moped over behind one of the privacy screens. You remained quiet as you collected the dirty sheets. He could hear Goethel’s footsteps and Ortho’s fans fade away as they left further and further down the hall. Idia yanked his shirt off, slipping the clean one over his head, noting it was a tad bit too small. He grumbled in annoyance as he pulled the shirt down to cover his stomach.

“Idia?”

“Eeep!” Idia yelped, your voice coming from right behind the screen. “Y-yes?”

“Are you done changing? I can take your shirt to the hamper.”

He hummed in response, peeking his hand from behind the screen with the shirt in hand. As you took the shirt and walked away, Idia slowly moved to look at you. Once he was sure your eyes were firmly ahead (and briefly taking a look at your ass), he launched himself back into bed, the smell of clean linen filling his nose.

Idia sighed, a faux exhaustion settling into his bones as he sunk into the bed. He tensed as he felt you sit on the edge to this right.

“Idia?” you hummed as he closed his eyes to focus on the darkness behind them, instead of you worried expression.

He hummed in response.

“Nurse Goethel said that the remedy is actually quick and easy, right?”

He hummed again.

“You’ll just keep coughing hydrangeas until you do something, right?”

“...Yea.” Idia replied in a monotone voice.

You sighed, a bit in frustration he thinks. “So?”

“...So?”

“Why don’t you?” You stretched out the last vowel with a questioning sound.

“Why don’t I?” Idia mimicked you.

"Why don't you just confess?"

“Wha?” He yelped, looking at you like you’d grown heads like a hydra. “W-what do y-you mean, confess!? Are you crazy?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, “It would help, wouldn’t it? And Nurse Goethel said it’s rare for it to not be reciprocated, so what do you have to lose?”

“First of all, what’s left of my dignity. Second, I’m not some ML in a romance manhwa. And, third!” Idia straightened up to look you in the eyes, a burst of confidence filling his veins in pure frustration and annoyance. “There’s no way that anyone would be interested in some loser like me, so what’s the point—”

“But I like you!”

Silence fell between you two as the realization of your words settled into both your minds. You, with a growing blush and look of embarrassment, and Idia gaping at you like a fish out of water.”

“Huh.”

“I said,” You murmured, twiddling with the ends of your hair. “That I like you. A lot. I think you’re really fun to be around, you’re even though you're shy and kinda geeky, you’re really passionate about the stuff you like. Idia.”

Your hand reached for his, hesitantly like you were afraid you’d burn him. As you laced your fingers together, Idia felt a lump form in his throat. He kept silent though, watching as you smiled shyly.

“You’re sweet to your brother, and I notice, to me sometimes too. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you coming out to class more often so we could hang? I missed you this week…it was really lonely without you, even with all my friends.”

Still holding his hand, you leaned in closer to his face, looking at him earnestly. Was this real? Did he unlock a secret route with you without noticing? Why did you keep looking at his lips? OMG WAS THIS REAL—

“Idia,” You snapped him out of his thoughts as the distance between you two kept closing. “If the person you like doesn’t return your feelings, then they didn’t deserve you in the first place. I’ll be there to support you, even if you don’t like me the same way, I’ll always care for you as your friend—”

“But it is you.” Idia blurted out. Whether it was due to a mysterious burst of energy or just a slip of the tongue, he didn’t know.

“W-what! Idia, you don’t have to try and make me feel—” you tried to stutter an excuse, cheeks pink like the fiery tips of his hair.

“It’s you! I got this cause of you, cause I knew—I thought,” Idia started to ramble, getting up to grab you by the shoulders and shake. “I thought that you couldn’t like some weirdo like me. Are you telling me I could’ve snatched an SSR level kiss scene with you at any time??!!”

It was your turn to be shocked, a bewildered look in your eyes and Idia rapidly spoke, taking little breaths between sentences.

“Do you know what you do to me?? The thoughts, the dreams I have about you? I see you and get all hot and bothered and you’re telling me that I didn’t have to be some maidenless normie this entire time? I could’ve been lockin’ lips and getting my dick we—”

A sharp shriek leaving Idia’s mouth was muffled as you shoved your lips into his, effectively shutting up his rant. He whimpered as you swiped your tongue along his lips, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Idia, perhaps in the throes of passion, or not wanting to miss out on this once in a lifetime pull, reciprocated, albeit with a nervous hesitation.

You seemed to approve, pressing your chest against his as your mouth moved against his, tongues dancing and moans being shared between half taken breaths. His hands hovered over you until you let go of his neck to guide his hands and place them over your hips. An arousing moan left your lips as your hands gently pushed his chest.

Idia’s world slightly shifted as he fell back first into the bed, your hair creating a curtain as you separated from him. A line of shiny spit followed you, breaking as he gasped for breath while you leaned back down to press kisses against his neck, flowering the disappearing hydrangeas.

He yelped as your teeth scraped a particularly sensitive spot, opening his mouth to blurt out, “I'm so happy that you confessed first.”

You let out a breathless giggle, turning your head and resting your chin on his neck to look up at him with, he swears on the Star Rouge sequel, hearts in your eyes. “Why?”

“If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” Idia chuckled, “I’m sorry you have to deal with such a coward like me.”

“Idia.” You firmly responded, “Don’t. I like you as you are. We’re both young, we have time to grow. I’ll grow with you, if you’ll have me?

Looking down at you, practically on top of him, Idia opened his mouth to tease your softness, and suddenly froze. The mortifying, though wonderful he had to admit, scene was dawning on him as his entire body heated up and turned red.

“Uuuuuwwwwwahaaahahahahaha—you’reontopofmethere’sagirlontopofmeisthisanewlevelinyourouteIdidn’tprepareforthis—mmmfph!”

You effectively shut him up with another kiss to his lips, smiling as Idia was shocked into silence with a dopy, wobbly smile forming on his lips.

“Relax, Idia, I’ll take the lead on all the romance stuff until you get the hang of it. For now you can be my player two!”

Idia snorted, smirking at you as he teased, “That’s such a cringey thing to say~”

“You say things like that all the time!”

The two of you shared a soft laugh, unaware of the audience of two at the door watching. Ortho recorded the memory for the wedding he was already planning in his head, while the nurse muttered to herself about wasting time gathering ingredients for a prescription potion she no longer needed. Despite this, she smiled, happy that her little words of encouragement to the Prefect earlier worked.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud #twst idia #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst idia x reader #suggestive #a floral inconvenience

734 notes · View notes

letters-to-lgbt-kids · 3 months

Text

My dear lgbt+ kids,

If you consume a certain type of online content about friendship (often in the form of “10 signs of a fake friend” and similar), you may almost get to the conclusion that anyone who is not your best friend is your enemy - or at the very least, that any friend who doesn’t know *everything* about you is entirely worthless to your life and you would be better off cutting them out.

That’s a pretty radical view of human relationships, and it would ultimately cost you a lot of joyful social interactions if you strictly adhered to it.

Unless you barricade yourself in your room and never leave it (which would be pretty awful for your mental health), you will end up in situations where you have regular interactions with people who are not your best friend ever. The ability to be friendly to those people, to enjoy those connections, isn’t “fake” or “toxic”. It’s an important source of positive social interactions and a valuable tool to fight loneliness.

If you have a constant social circle, these may be the friends (or partners, family members etc) of your friends, those “I’m not directly friends with Rose but I’m friends with Lisa and Lisa is friends with Rose” situations. But even if you do not have a circle like that (because you don’t make friends easily, you have social anxiety etc.), there will most likely be some “casually friendly” people in your life, as these are often simply the people who happen to be at the same place at the same time as you: colleagues, classmates, neighbors, people at places you frequent (employees in stores, patients in group therapy etc.), or even just the guy who waits for the same bus as you do every Monday morning.

These people wouldn’t be the first one you’d call if you need help with a potentially life changing decision. They don’t know all your deepest secrets, fears and desires, they may not even be able to name your favorite color (or hey, maybe not even your name), and they certainly won’t be able to list all your identity labels, political beliefs, medical diagnoses, traumatic experiences and sexual fantasies - but they don’t need to.

It’s wonderful if you have a best friend (or another close relationship) who fulfills that role of being someone you’d trust blindly, someone who knows you inside and out. But not everyone you are friendly with needs to be that for you. There’s enough other roles. Acquaintances, work friends, casual friends, small-talk friends… those roles aren’t worthless. They won’t be the one you call at 3 am after a breakup, but they can inject a bit of joy in your everyday life. They can offer friendly interactions that come with no pressure to go beyond the surface (something that’s valuable in itself! It would be very exhausting if everyone already knew everything about you and every conversation had to be deep and philosophical).

Plus, only knowing each other in one context has its advantages: your best friend may not know anything about the printer issue in your office but your office friend sure does! And if you met someone in a crime novel forum and all you ever talk about is crime novels, is that really negative? Isn’t it beautiful to know someone who shares your passion for that genre and is always happy to talk about it?

Of course an office friend or a crime novel friend can also become a best friend over the years. There are plenty of people who meet in a specific context, bond in that context and gradually develop a relationship out of that context as well. But one-context friends still enrich your life.

Even if that context is purely “we say hi when we see each other at the bus stop”, it’s a positive social interaction - and those will bring color and joy into both of your lives.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

467 notes · View notes

prey-4-me · 1 year

Note

Yautja with an autistic reader

Thx for this request, hope you like it 🤍

Request: Yaujta x autistic reader

Sort of fluff?, gender neutral, no smut

Yauja Translations

Hult’ah - name, meaning Watcher

Kv’var - hunt

Ooman - human

Human Translations

Kmt - what ancient Egyptians called Egypt

***

The constant thrumming of the ship bothered you. No one else seemed to notice. But it was driving you crazy. Anxious, you fiddled with your jacket zipper.

“What do you think they’re going to do with us?” Someone asked.

Chatter initiated. Overwhelmed by it, you sat back and fiddled some more. But you thought about the question. Your group had been overtaken by a strange alien race while exploring a new planet. Half the crew had been lost by the time another alien species showed up, ship crashing through the clouds in the sky.

The other scientists continued to argue. You thought about your meeting with the second type of alien. Cornered by a xenomorph, you had flattened yourself against a wall and waited for death. It had approached slowly, calmly, as if relishing the kill. You focused on the drool coming out of its two mouths.

Suddenly a spear had gone through its elongated head. It had screamed, acidic blood spurting at you. A large, strong hand had pulled you backwards to safety. The thing staggered and fell. Was it dead? You stared at it, waiting for it to move. Horror slowly dawned on you as you considered the fact that the awful creature, which had killed half your crew, had just been killed easily by something else. What terrible beast was this?

You turned slowly around, focusing on your fingertips and counting up and down from 10. You had to look upward to see its face. It was… inhuman. But the eyes seemed familiar. It blinked at you. You blinked back. It broke the tension by speaking in a nearly human voice. Scratchy and raw sounding, it didn’t frighten you.

“Come… with me. To your friends.” It turned and took off without another word or action. Confused, you followed along. If nothing else, you appeared to be safe with it.

“What do you think?” The question broke into your thoughts.

“Huh?” You had stopped paying attention to your shipmates.

“What do you think is going to happen to us? Maybe they’ll eat us.”

You snorted at the comment. After interacting with it, you didn’t think it was interested in making you a meal.

“Why would they bother to talk to us if they wanted to eat us?” You asked, still zipping your zipper up and down your jacket.

“What, one of them talked to you?” Incredulous comments burst forth, overwhelming you again. Their voices turned into one buzzing noise in your ears. Just as your anxiety was about to boil over, the door opened. Your rescuer came in. You felt happy to see it. Looking directly at you, it motioned for you to come.

“Don’t go with it - We can fight it!”

You jumped up and followed it out the door before they could yell anymore. You entered a long corridor, illuminated with red lighting. It walked briskly. It turned its head slightly to speak to you as you trotted along beside it. “Your friends are very afraid. You can explain to them that we mean them no harm. Your kind are not an honorable kv’var.”

Confused, you followed along silently. It continued, “Where do you come from? I think… you call it Earth?”

You nodded. It went on, “Why so far from home?”

You didn’t know how to respond. An alien was asking you why you left the rock you were born on to go to another one. Honestly, in this moment, you had no idea. You said so. It grunted. You weren’t sure if it was annoyed or amused or…?

“This way,” it lead you down a slightly more narrow corridor. Stopping in front of a doorway, it motioned you inside. You stopped short upon entering. Human objects were scattered about the small room. Some looked very old. Others looked quite new.

“This is all my ooman stuff. I thought you would like to see it.” Was it boasting? You were unsure. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact, so you just nodded as you looked around the room. Many things confronted you. It was so much you nearly got dizzy. But then you focused in on something. As an archeologist, you recognized something you had studied heavily. Canopic jars. A full set, looking brand new! You raced to it. Reverently, you kneeled to get a better look. Without touching, you noted the cartouche. You knew this Pharaoh. You grinned. What a find.

“Do you like them? Your people used to put your guts into jars. Weird, but they look nice.”

You laughed happily. You continued to study them. Time stretched as you carefully examined each and every detail, all the hieroglyphs you could see. You realized slowly that the alien was sitting next to you patiently. You turned your head slowly.

“You really like them.” It seemed… amused? You weren’t sure. It leaned towards you slowly, as if to not frighten you. It smelled liked herbs and… strangeness. It picked up one of the jars. “This is my favorite.”

You immediately set off explaining which organ and why went into it. Then you went on to explain the life of the person who owned the jars. It nodded, listening intently. Finally it asked, “So now I know the name of my Pharaoh. My name is Hult’ah. And your name is..?”

You found it difficult to talk about yourself. After a strained moment, you squeaked out your name.

It considered. “I like it,” it finally said. It scooted closer. The scent got stronger. Normally this would bother you, but you didn’t mind this smell. It seemed… comforting.

“We take you home in a few of your earth months. We are very far away right now, as you know.”

You shrugged. You were more interested in exploring more of this room. It seemed to sense this, “What else do you want look at? I have more things from Kmt.”

Impressed, you asked to see more. The next several hours passed by in academic bliss. Finally you realized you were hungry.

It grumbled in a way you didn’t understand. “We have some food that is… probably palatable to oomans. Come.”

You followed along, passing by several other of its kind. You kept your gaze down, intimidated. Finally it turned into a larger room. There was some seating and something that looked a bit like the kitchenette in your Earth apartment. It opened a drawer and pulled out something that could be thought of as fruit, appearance-wise anyway.

You took it. You looked up at your friend. It clicked softly, eyes gentle. You felt oddly okay. Taking a bite, you tasted the tart juiciness of it. You mumbled. It was good.

Hult’ah clicked again before saying, “Let’s sit.” You sat in a chair, eating. It sat next to you, rather than across the table. Must be cultural, you thought.

When you had finished your snack, you turned to Hult’ah, “Now what?”

“Well, you want to go to your friends?”

You frowned, “Not exactly. I’m sure they’re fine.”

Hult’ah clicked again. “Well, we can just talk?”

“About what?” You panicked at the social requirements.

It shrugged, “You could tell me more about Kmt.” You immediately went off on a long story about the history of everything you were really interested in. Hult’ah leaned forward.

Finally you were tired. Hult’ah took you to a small room. It had a cozy looking bed and some other ooman-ish items. “You can stay here to sleep. But tomorrow you really need to tell the other oomans it’s okay.” You agreed sleepily. Hult’ah left you sleep.

***

The weeks had passed more quickly than you wanted. You stood next to Hult’ah as the Yaujta ship entered Earth’s atmosphere. You had learned much about the Yaujta, and befriended many of them. It was strange to feel so at home among another species.

Hult’ah clicked, “Well, soon we will be on your ground.” You nodded. Then you started to cry. Hult’ah turned to you. “You are… happy to return?”

“No,” you blurted out.

“… you have… things on Earth you will miss?”

You thought about your snake plant for a second. “No,” you finally said, feeling sad and angry you had to leave. Hult’ah was… very special to you. The other oomans crowded to the exit as the ship landed, rumbling and finally becoming still. They chattered excitedly. Although they no longer feared their alien hosts, they were ecstatic to return home, to the things they had left. But you were leaving the thing that was important to you. You took one step. Then another. Focusing on moving your feet, you made it to the exit. Your ooman companions called to you to hurry. The Yaujta could not stay long without risking detection.

You froze. This was it. Your stomach felt heavy.

A strong hand landed on your shoulder. “You can go, but you don’t have to.” Hult’ah’s voice was very quiet.

You spun around and leapt into Hult’ah’s powerful arms. “Let’s go.”

Hult’ah held you with one arm while comming the pilot, “We’re ready. Oomans are clear of the ship…. Well, the ones that are leaving, anyway.”

You wrapped both arms around Hult’ah until it became too much. Then the two of you walked through the ship to the Ooman Room. You wanted to continue cataloging it, and Hult’ah was an excellent assistant. You thought about Hult’ah and your heart was full.

#yautja x human #yautja x reader #predator x human #predator x reader #yautja x you #predator x you

386 notes · View notes

callsign-relic · 8 months

Note

Hi!! I love your works and this is my first time requesting anything so (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)

I want to know if you can make a fluff/comfort story of MTMTE Whirl x (gn)reader with him in his holoform?(He's very pretty-) Maybe the reader has a bad day, he doesn't know how to his s/o but wants them to feel better?

If it's too difficult or you don't write for Whirl, it's okay!! I understand he can be tough to write!

Ahh I’m so glad you enjoy my works!!! I’m happy to be your first request! Hopefully this encourages you to make some more requests to any other amazing tf reader insert writers out there :D or if you want to send another request to me, you’re more than free to ;) HAHA

And this is a great concept, I’d love to do this for you! Holoforms isn’t something you see requested right out the gate very often, so I’d be happy to try and write this :D

I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader

You were sat upon the desk in your and Whirl’s shared habsuite, hugging your knees and doing your absolute best to look anywhere that wasn’t directly into the blue mech’s singular yellow optic. He had craned his neck down near the table to try and level himself with you, yet you were shuffling your body in such a way that made it difficult for the mech to see your face.

“Aw, hey, c’mon!” He urges you, reaching one of his massive claws over to you and gently nudging your side. “You’ve been acting like this all day. I like messing with people when they’re not in the mood, but this is starting to get a little concerning.”

You throw him a sideways glare, and Whirl pulls back at that. He tilts his helm to the side, “Hey, what’s that look for?”

You scoff under your breath, pulling yourself out of your little ball to sit cross legged and glower at him. “Listen, Whirl, can you just back off for once?” Your snippy tone comes off much more aggressively than you had intended, and your eyes are quick to widen when you realize that— but the damage has been done. The glowing light of Whirl’s optic goes half lidded, and he throws a dark look back at you, too.

“Fine,” he huffs, raising himself from your level and taking a few heavy steps backwards. “I don’t care. I can just— come back later, or something.” The mech turns to leave, the door to the habsuite sliding open as always as he approached it—

“Wait!”

You scramble to your feet, nearly falling over the edge of the desk as you reach back out towards him. Whirl stops in his tracks, but he does not turn to face you.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Whirl, I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.” Your outstretched hand falls, and any adrenaline you had previously felt completes its course through your system. You slowly drop to your knees, sitting on your calves, and you fold your hands over the bends of your knees. As you cast your gaze down, you can hear the door to the habsuite slowly slide shut, and you can feel the vibrations faintly run through you from the table as Whirl’s footsteps land to the floor. Approaching you, though slowly.

“I’ve just… had a lot on my mind,” you admit, the fabric of your pants scrunching beneath your grip as you nervously flexed your hands. “I guess you can say I’ve been a little homesick. That’s not to say I haven’t enjoyed my time here, I love being with you guys, but…”

Finally you look upwards, and you have to crane your neck higher than before as Whirl was staring directly down at you. Helm tilted just a little, yet his demeanor otherwise entirely unreadable as he studied you under the golden light of his optic.

Your shoulders sag as you offer a defeated little laugh. “Sounds weird to say it out loud but, uh, I miss being able to properly hug someone. Or just interact with anyone close to my size in general, really.”

And for a while, Whirl doesn’t respond, only further tilting his helm as he seems to process what you just told him. You’re tempted to just look down and to the side again and try to come up with a quick lighthearted thing to say, but the sound of the mech before you moving again captures your attention. He takes a couple steps back to one of the side walls, leaning up against it and— powering down??

You lean forward— what was he doing? The yellow light of his optic dims to a near imperceptible brightness, and you can swear you hear his inner engines go from their typical roar to a low purr. But before you could even open your mouth to call out to him, a light manifests itself in the corner of your eye. You whip around to look at it, and you suddenly land on your back as you pull yourself away from the humanoid being that was currently materializing itself in wireframe before you.

Fractals of color and detail appear in random splotches on the humanoid form, all spreading and coming together until eventually, a full figure stands before you.

It was… a human girl.

A little on the shorter side with her blue hair tied into twin pigtails on either sides of her head, the eyepatched girl looked at you questioning eyebrows before looking down to examine her gloved hands with a sideways pout. “What? What’s wrong with it this time? Ugh, don’t tell me I got the scaling wrong…”

Yet the voice that emerged from the girl wasn’t just any voice. It was Whirl’s.

Slowly, you raise yourself up from the floor, approaching the Whirl-like girl with cautiously raised hands. “What…? Whirl? Is that you?”

The girl turns her attention away from herself and back up to you, a grin forming on her lips. “Yeah, duh! Whaddya’ think?” She— or, he, you correct yourself— spreads an arm out wide as he places another on his hip, showing off this new form of his with pride.

“It’s… incredible,” you gasp, your disbelieving awe quickly transforming into starry-eyed wonder as a smile spread itself across your face, too. “How did you—? What is—?”

“‘s my holomatter avatar,” Whirl explains nonchalantly, tugging down the ends of his stylish denim overalls. “Holoform for short. It’s a quick fix for when we stop by any mech-unfriendly planets. Heh, there was this one time where we were using these around organics and—“

The disguised mech’s words are quickly cut off by a feeling enveloping his whole body. He shifts his gaze to look, and he sees you, suddenly with your arms wrapped around his slightly shorter form. You stay there for a long time, hugging him wordlessly.

Then, after a moment, Whirl slowly wraps his own arms around your back too.

#relic writes #Transformers #Transformers x reader #more than meets the eye #MTMTE #MTMTE x reader #lost light x reader #Transformers whirl #whirl transformers #whirl x reader #lost light

96 notes · View notes

thrasheraxe · 6 months

Note

Ahhh, what a thrill!! 🙈✨

I wanna request a James/Reader story. The reader is biologically female, but is gender fluid but usually likes to be treated like a boy.

The story would be about his first time. It would start out soft and end up rough.

---

Thanks and sorry for my English. 🤧

hetfield x gender fluid reader

weee woo!! thank you for this one!! im not gender fluid myself but ill give it my best go!!🫶

thinking current james and these images because DUHHH

cw: smut, talk of gender identity, virginity, age difference

prompt: genderfluid reader who is an illustrator working at the park one day, when they come across garage owning James, unbeknownst to the reader he was also in a local band

sitting on a park bench watching the world go by and drawing the scenery around you was one of your favourite ways to relax. there was no judgement there, dressed in a baggy hoodie and jeans you had no fear. even if you were masc presenting today its not like strangers would notice or even care, they just thought of you as some guy on the park bench and that made you happy.

coming out as genderfluid had been hard on you, it wasn't easy to find anyone so accepting or even just understanding, so you'd take your comfort elsewhere. it was no small feat and it was even harder to find like minded individuals, you often thought of others like you and wished to make them not feel as alone as you did.

you almost didn't notice the larger man approaching you, headphones in and staring intently at the forest line trying to capture every detail. he pats you on the shoulder lightly, an older gentleman something you weren't expecting. most of the interaction you'd had at this place was from sweet old ladies who would ask for the time.

cigar in hand and a cowboy hat on his head (which was out of place for the city but it worked for him), he stared down at you with his piercing blue eyes and a bright smile while you took out your earphones. a slight confused expression as you spoke softly.

"uhm..hello?"

"oh sorry darl, didn't mean to spook you, i was just strolling past and noticed your drawings, they are very impressive, can i take a look?" his voice was soft and calming. hesitantly you passed him the sketchpad sheets you were working on.

“wow…i mean wow..” he strokes his finger over the linework lightly, just adoring it. his smile is still bright and as you look at him, you realise this man is stunningly beautiful. even this is enough to make you blush.

“this is fantastic, you work as an illustrator?”

“n-no, it’s mainly something i keep to myself, i uh, work in retail.” you cringe at your own words sounding meek and uninteresting.

“well…can you draw anything or are you just into nature?” his tone kind as he looked directly at you. he had no judgement at all.

“uh yeah i mean i can always try can’t i?”

“well, i actually run an autoshop, and ive been looking for something to spruce up the walls a bit, you think you’d be able to design something for me? not for free of course”

you grin at his suggestion, the mere thought alone of someone enjoying your work was insane but now wanting to pay for it? it was some sort of blasphemy in your eyes.

“of course! i could do that. could probably get it done in a few hours”

“amazing, thank you sweetheart, james by the way. if you think you could get something done that quick, why don’t you come by the Luxe downton? my band is actually playing there.”

He had a huge grin on his face and he was clearly proud of himself for that subtle mention. his gaze not leaving your eyes.

“yeah that’d be really fun.” you smile sheepishly and nod. you also pause and tell him your name with a laugh, realising you’d neglected to mention it.

“great see you at eight” still with that grin on his face, he winks and walks off leaving you in awe of this mysterious and handsome individual.

it didn’t take you long to get home and in the fully lit presence of your desk, bubbling with inspiration you sketch up something. it was nice, in a weird way he’d inspired you with his compliment but you kept it simple. this was for a stranger after all, a simple sketch of an old ‘67 chevy impala, carefully shaded in and small subtle details. you sign your name and get ready for the night, time escaping you faster than you’d thought.

as you arrived, hair done and settling with a slightly nicer combination of jeans and a button up, you plop yourself down at the bar looking out for james. it wasn’t until the first notes of an unfamiliar song that you see him on the stage, he gives you a subtle smile and a nod.

you sat there taking in the environment and enjoying the set they played, bopping your head along and nursing a drink. his voice was actually quite spectacular which added to your already slight attraction to this man.

after he had finished, he made his way over to you, beer in hand with a grin.

“hey there sweetheart.”

“hi” you answer nervously, quick to reach for your bag and grab the drawing out of it, meticulously glued to a piece of card and protected by a sleeve as not to damage it. he takes it out of your hand and with one look his eyes widened.

“wow! this is…amazing…thank you so much, darlin’, let me know how I can repay you?”

you smile brightly and shake your head, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks

“no, no. that’s okay! i actually had a lot of fun, it was nice to work on something different for a change.”

“least let me buy you a drink, sweetheart?”

“that’d be really nice, thank you”

for the next few hours you’d spent time drinking together, you both talked about his band, your ambitions, your identity since he was very curious. he asked a lot of questions, respectfully of course and you answered them with grace. his willingness to learn made you feel a bit fuzzy inside as no one had ever treated you that way.

you find yourself getting over your aversion to eye contact, willingly staring into his eyes as he spoke about his hobbies and his musical influences. he notices your stare and grins to himself. taking a mental note, he changes the subject to loved ones and is surprised to hear you’ve never dated anyone. you were young sure, but he didn’t expect you to have no experience atall.

“really? thats…interesting.”

“are you making fun of me?” you say raising your eyebrow and glaring playfully. feeling the buzz from the last few drinks.

“no…no. just something crossed my mind is all. shouldn’t’ve but it did” he says softly, his body language a bit more serious and he looked slightly embarrassed.

you look at the time on your phone, 1 am. you’re feeling buzzed and james is looking very fine, screw it. you move closer and sit next to him, thighs pressed to one another and your face flushed. so what if it was your first time? this man was too beautiful to pass on.

“jealous are we james?”

your sudden confidence and proximity threw him for a loop, his eyes flitting between yours and your lips. “pardon?”

“you heard me. jealous? wishing it was your cock buried deep inside me? giving me that wonderful feeling for the first time?”

“fuuck…you don’t waste any time do you?”

“guess i’m just feeling a bit out there and lucky tonight, james.”

the way you kept saying his name made him squirm in his seat, the thought of you sat on his lap, fucking like rabbits and him giving you your first time was overwhelming. when suddenly he stood, held out his hand and not saying anything.

you take it gracefully, grinning to yourself. the reality of the situation not quite kicking in yet as the alcohol made you feel fuzzy. he pulls you to his side, snaking an arm around your waist, chucking some money on the table and walking like a man on a mission.

15 minutes later and a tense taxi drive, where he’d been struggling not to take you right there or even just touch you a little bit, you arrive at a hotel. he rushes you in, holding onto you as if you’d run off if he let go. the silence was deafening.

in the elevator, he just looked down at you with a grin, a gentle hand coming up to lift your chin, his eyes piercing into you once again as he finally spoke.

“you really wanna go through with this?”

“more than anything.”

a moment later his lips were pressed against yours, kissing you deeply, hands nestled at the small of your back. you kiss him back with a little more force, the heat in the room rising. he begins to trail soft kisses down your neck before biting ever so slightly at the crook.

“oh fuck..”

he laughs heartily hearing you curse under your breath and brings a hand to your chin again, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip and tapping at as if he was mimicking something in his own mind.

“you’ve got such pretty lips, know that?”

too distracted by his gaze at your lips, you fail to answer as you bring tour own hands up his sides slipping under his shirt and scratching at his back in need, producing a breathy groan from his own lips. his head tilting back slightly as he felt your nails dig into his flesh.

you take this moment to start kissing his neck, your own body trembling at this point as you’d never really gotten past a small kiss with anyone before. he could definitely tell, by the way your lips moved hesitantly along his neck, awkwardly sucking and biting at random areas. a furious red blush on your face and your brows knotted together in concentration.

he shook his head and laughed, lifting your face away with his hand.

“let me show you sweetheart.”

his lips trailed your neck, finding that sweet spot and at first he just places sweet kisses there, slowly but surely he takes a little bit of skin in between his lips and nibbles, letting you feel each sensation. soft whimpers escaped your lips as he moved, taking this as a sign he bit harder. you let out a moan and grip his shoulders lightly.

“you like that hun? so cute” he purred in your ear. the ding of the elevator pulling you both out of this heated moment. you break apart and stare up at him, the swift transition of him grabbing you and ending up in the hotel room, clothes being tugged at during another heated makeout session makes your head spin

heart racing you look at him with doe eyes. which makes him curse under his breath and compose himself. sitting back on his knees.

“cmere pretty boy, lets take this your pace huh darl?”

you nod, that nervous feeling welling up inside, sitting up you start to unbutton his shirt, trailing your fingers down his exposed chest and placing kisses there. appreciative groans leaving his lips as he caresses your neck with his thumb. need building up inside himself now, he was struggling at how teasingly slow this was moving. if it was any other person, he would’ve just pinned them to the wall and fucked them violently chasing his own high. but even though you were pretty much a stranger to him, he didn’t want you to regret this. you were so sweet looking and nervous.

eventually after extended amounts of strained eye contact and lustful gazes you make your way to his jeans, unbuckling his belt as he stroked through your hair with his big hand. you pull the fabric down and gasp at the way his cock bounces back, hitting his stomach and throbbing, dripping with precum. he takes it his hands and strokes it a few times, thumbing over the tip, collecting the liquid.

he grins and offered his thumb to you.

“wanna taste it darl?”

“yes” you say tentatively taking it and sucking the tip. with a groan he watches you swirl your tongue around it, cursing under his breath.

“fuck can’t take it any longer, i need you baby, that okay?”

you don’t say anything, just start tugging his jeans down completely, you focus on your own and then pull him on top of you, fiercely making out with him, whimpers escaping your lips.

he sits back up and pulls your thighs apart, gently stroking through your folds, his hands glistening with your wetness.

“need it james…please”

he groans at the sounds you make and your desperate words. he doesn’t take a breath before lining up with your entrance, looking at you for approval. you nod and he leans over stroking your cheek sweetly.

“this gonna hurt a little bit okay? just relax for me, you’re doing so good already ,pretty boy.”

before you can react, he pushes just the tip in, letting you adjust as he stares down at you. you hiss in pain and grip his shoulder tightly, a yelp escaping your lips. he peppers kisses along your jaw and neck, speaking softly

“it’s okay, i know i know. breathe sweet boy, we can just stay like this a moment, yeah?”

one big hand drifts down to your clit, circling slowly and applying some pressure. your head tips back slightly letting out a strained moan.

“ready, james. just do it…please?”

barely able to control himself, he continues working with one hand, the other gripping your hip as he pushes himself to the hilt.

“fuck!” you moan loudly, with his accompanying groan, he starts to move, slowly and gently holding you. it takes you a minute to get used to the feeling but when you do, your body trembles all over, frantic moans escaping your lips. he strokes your hair and keeps kissing your neck tenderly.

“god you feel so fucking good darl, so good…”

his words send you into overdrive, feeling the need for more, you buck against him. your teeth find its way to his shoulder and you bite down, whispering pleas. his demeanour switches, seemingly not being able to control himself at feeling you clench down on him. so soft and warm, he just starts moving faster, his hips stuttering, watching your face to make sure it’s okay.

“fuck…yes…shit…james…feels so good” your words escaping as whines as you stare up at him. you could see his expression become more desperate as soft moans tumble from him. his grasp getting tighter and he grits his teeth.

“so good for me, god..shit i don’t know if i can hold back anymore. so fucking tight and wet for me, baby. drivin me insane”

you lean up and bite his earlobe before whispering “so don’t. i can handle it.”

it was like something had snapped in him, he heaves your thighs up over his waist and hastily shoving a pillow underneath you. slamming his hips into yours and grabbing your thighs tightly, hard enough to leave bruises for sure. your hands reach up and tug at his white hair, your sounds only growing louder which was like music to his ears. he was out of control, slamming back down on you and pulling out before repeating the process, like it was his own first time too.

“fuck look so good taking me , honey. you like that? getting fucked so hard by this fat old cock? hm? gushing round me baby.”

“yes yes fuck fuck…i can’t” you whine, in a stroke of adrenaline you guide his hand back to your clit, pushing yourself further on him. he gladly continues swirling, his fingers moving at the same pace as his hips. hitting you so deep you could feel it in your stomach.

“gonna cum in you, pretty boy. wanna make you remember this forever, gonna ruin you for anybody else.”

this sends you into primal need, borderline fucking yourself on him as you whimper in his ear.

“fuck yeah, fucking ruin me. fill me. need it so bad james…so fucking close.”

“god you are fucking filthy i love it” he growls, slamming harder into you, his body not being able to hold back. his thrusts become messy as you chase that high together. whispering obscenities to each other and grabbing at wherever you can reach.

the sensation comes faster than you’d ever felt before, like a rollercoaster dropping down a peak, your legs begin to shake and you scream out his name. he takes this as a challenge and moves at an impossible pace, cumming hard inside. growling in your ear and pulling at your hair lightly.

“so fucking good, darl. oh fuck I can’t get enough. no, i think i’ll be seeing more of you. mm ill teach you everything.”

#this was a long one!#i hope its good #i had to take so maby breaks aaaaa #him being so sweet and attentive #interested in your hobbies #god im gay please help me #yes mr hetfield #teaching you everything 🤭#tried my best to give detail!!#age gap is so hot idk #james hetfield #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield x masc reader #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x genderfluid reader #axl’s thoughts #jaymz #need him so bad #metallica

45 notes · View notes

thesiblingsoftheblackandwhite · 3 months

Text

[[BODY MUTILATION, BODY HORROR, ABUSIVE PARENTING]]

Hooves legs ache as they clack toward nowhere. There is no silence this time, instead it’s echoed by faint screams he can almost place. Meaning there’s someone else here.

Wig-Wiggly!?

There is no other word for what T’noy Karaxis feels: weak. The persistent burn in his bones has only spread as his head fogs. That doesn’t mean he stops running. Yellow fizzles past his clouded eyes to something brighter and harsher. There’s no harm in trying for freedom, even if there is nothing past these walls. ‘Harm’ does not include the sickness beating through him like it always has. Tinky’s hands, pocked with age spots, twitch coldly. He almost trips over himself, eyes darting around for anything of a different shade. There was only one rule: never stay in the same spot. Whatever can be done should.

Blinky!?

He’s at the dead end he always ends up reaching. Stopping once means he might not get up again - Tinky tries to grip the wall clumsily with feeble fingers. Metal gushes into his mouth as he absently opens his mouth to let it flow out, stark against the yellow floor. Nails scratch and, as they do so, each one chips. Karaxis doesn’t stop, getting hysterical. His nailbeds bleed at the strain of separation. With a jerk, his thumbnail clatters to the floor. The exposed skin burns, but he doesn’t notice. The cracks along the rest of his nails make sure they don’t go as quickly, rooting deep into his palm with electric shudders. Every breath is a stab to each lung. Frantic in his escape plan, Tinky doesn’t hear footsteps.

“You.”

T’noy staggers around to come face to face with his favorite toy. Teddy Bear grins without enjoyment.

“I’ve been waiting for you. You fucking bastard.”

Aware of how frail he feels, Tinky backs into the corner while baring his teeth. Ted steps closer, eyes shining. T’noy did not directly interact with his Boxed victims often, and he would have been elated in any other context.

“I’m going to have so much fun, Tinker-Toy.”

There is something wrong with his grin - it's usually lopsided, with a dimple Ted’s hated since childhood. Even with his waning vision, this wasn’t right. Before Karaxis can focus on anything clearly, a shiny flash almost blinds him. In Ted’s hands is a length of piano wire. He shouldn’t have that. Tinky designed the Box so that-

T-Tinker-Toy? You’ve never…

Ted’s grin never slips - his imposing figure steps in closer, cornering his tormentor. The wire gets spun around in his fingers casually.

“Goats don’t have fingers, silly wiwwle Tinky~.”

His eyes were brown, not…

“I’m sure you miss ‘em. Your hooves. Huh?”

His tone is light. With nowhere to run, not that his legs would let him, Karaxis stares at the wire wrapping around his ring finger. But this wasn’t how things went - if his Box worked like it should or if he wasn’t just a human, he wouldn’t-

“Aw, don’t cry, little guy! I’ll save your middle finger, how’s that?”

He wheezes a barking laugh. The screams are no longer there. Prickles and needles dance on T’noy’s finger as blood beads against the wire. It’s pulling too tight to simply slide his hand away. T’noy Karaxis begs.

T-Teddsy - Ted - Spankoffski. Don’t!

Ted laughs again, and it doesn’t belong to him, A hot shock burns through Tinky’s finger and palm as the wire meets resistance.

“Like a child begging for salvation.

Bones crack as Theodore’s figure shrinks away. In his place, towering over T’noy Karaxis, is a hulking blur of shining feathers. They have no set color, switching from glints of purple to glints of pink, blue, green, orange. The skull on top of the feather cloak, unblinking, is that of a goat’s, with twisting horns and jutting teeth caked with rot and bloodied flesh. Its - His - eye sockets shine with something inside, far from hollow. Pupilless and apathetic, reflective and compound. Like thousands of cameras, they settle on their target like flies to a corpse. Perpetually watching.

After all my corrections, you are still disobedient.

Tentacles squirm quicker than before from feathered tips. He does not move.

…F-F-

You need say nothing. I apologize for my dirty trick.

T’noy scrambles back further, but the wall prevents escape. He shakes his head harshly, ears ringing.

This could not happen otherwise.

N…No-

He lifts His head higher.

…’No’.

Tinky shakes his head again, neck aching. He cannot move. The figure leans forward, eyes rotating.

Even now? Agitated about a talk?

Cold tentacles slide over his cheek, pulling gently, startling in contrast to his temperature. They leave behind glowing blue muck.

You were always so quiet after the Box. Why did it ever stop?

He cocks His head to one side, though there is no expectation for answers. Tinky’s throat tightens as his mouth breathes out too harshly. Everything blistered, but only His presence was piercing. Regardless, there was an answer; one that he swears is there.

S-

His voice is high and garbled, but he forces his lungs to get air in as he stammers.

S-sib-li-siblings.

There is quiet where he believes he’s won. The flame sizzles on his skin. He says nothing; the air is heavy with copper. Then, voice low,

What siblings? I don’t recall making any others. Certainly not for you.

There are no names to bring up, with no memories to think of. There is nothing. Blankness ranging millennia.

W-

T’noy mouths something; it might be a name or it might be a plea, but either way he can’t get the word out.

Little fake things to keep you company…how can I expect power from a future Lord who hallucinates?

Tinky whines, the guttural noise tearing through his dry throat. No one else was supposed to be in the Box. This was his punishment alone. Just his.

Your time here is getting to you, Bastard. But somehow you’re still useful. Relieving…isn’t it?

Here - the Box. Karaxis knew it well. Its maze twisted every second with rich yellow dousing every corner. Constantly spinning and weaving through itself like a…

W-Webby-

He chokes as hot blood overwhelms his senses, letting it fall down his chin.

What, this?

His tentacles wiggle around a tiny white spider. It zooms around the tight confinement desperately without glowing. Tinky inhales sharply, trailing its movements. His foot falls an inch forward as he wants nothing more than to get it away from Him.

W~Web-

The cage gets smaller. The spider spasms, bloated with blood. Its legs kick once pathetically before they go limp with a spurt of blue-tinted gore. The crushed thing is dropped, dead.

Pests. You know that, I expect.

Karaxis’ stomach churns as he keeps looking at her.

Y-ou ki…

Like a clock that doesn’t tick.

You act horrified. Did I do something wrong?

The corpse disappears under the myriad of feathers. Tinky can’t move further.

It’s like how you play with your replacement - I thought you would like that.

Colors fill his eyes. T’noy doesn’t reach as high as what would be His chest, lacking the strength to look up. His heart pounds in his ears.

You were always so sensitive. A complainer and a coward. I have naught for cowards. Too weak for godhood. Look, you’ve already hurt yourself.

T’noy Karaxis crumples to the floor in a heap, hitting the ground with a thwack. Ice swallows each molecule in his sweltering body. He sees no yellow or colors, just white as his eyes roll back in their sockets. He jerks up, stiff, skin blistering and boiling under his clothing.

Pity.

The wall keeping Karaxis shifts away. Incoherent, he falls onto his back. It lights up with stabbing pain as he sobs.

They will be sorely disappointed. How will you help them? Stupid, stumbling, creature.

There’s creaking as hot breath makes his face scrunch.

Shoo.

The word is a gunshot. Scrambling away, ignoring the excruciating agony as his limbs sting, Tinky flings himself into the maze pathway. Completely blind, groping with bleeding fingers, he can only reach for obstacles.

Hff…hff - nghk-

Nothing gives chase. A low and penetrating hum blares in his ears as a warm stickiness spreads down Tinky’s forehead. He blinks his sight back. It teeters between white and black, catching yellow flashes. A cough brings up something warm and bitter.

Your town is a rotting poison. At its roots it twists into a shrewd picture. Did you think they worried about your absence? There is no difference - you are mine.

He speeds up his crawl after seeing lights shining from the end of the hall. They blink brightly, multicolored. He’s in marginally less pain.

Ah-ah~.

A thin, cold, sharp thing eases in between two ribs with a squelch. Karaxis shudders, gasping, as warmth seeps below him. His chest heaves through a punctured lung with gritted moans. His tone rises, booming.

Ungrateful. Do you understand the PRIVILEGE I’ve given you? The CONTROL I can rip away if I wish? You’ve seen it already. Ask that trifle of yours.

N~o…P-ea-

His brain melts against all logic. Blood drags on the floor behind his decomposing form, already long dried. Teeth loosen with no choice but to fall out of thin gums. As everything clouds, His voice rings in Tinky’s head.

Go back to your brothers. Tell them how good of a protector you were.

#The Lords in Black #T’noy Karaxis #Their Holy Father #ask blog #rp blog #hatchetfield rp #tw body horror #tw mutilation #(Please inform me if I an missing any TW tags! /srs //OOC)#Blog Event: Hatchetfield Citizens

26 notes · View notes

ashleigghh · 4 months

Text

Day 31- midnight, jegulus... I went a bit overboard with this one... 2051 words. IN MY DEFENCE IT'S THE FINAL ONE AND IF YOU READ MY AO3 NOTE YOU'LL SEE WHY

Regulus wasn’t a very social person, he didn’t like interacting with others, he didn’t like the overwhelming chaos that came with trying to follow 15 people talking and he especially despises trying his hardest to fit in with the people around him and still feeling like a total outcast.

Despite this, he had foolishly allowed himself to be dragged to James Potter’s New Year's Eve party by his friends. This had been an awful, awful decision and he had regretted it the second he walked through the door.

The music was too loud, pounding around his head like it was beating his brain from the inside, the smell of alcohol was overwhelming and the crowds of people pushing on him from every side made him feel violently ill, he had wanted to turn around and walk right back out the front door, but Barty and Dorcas had taken an arm each and dragged him to a table overflowing with all sorts of drinks and handed him a concoction he wasn’t sure was safe to drink.

This was fine, okay, he could manage a couple hours here as long as his friends stuck by him, the dull numbness of the alcohol making it bearable to be in this room. He was promptly abandoned by said friends and he was trying desperately hard not to be mad at them about it.

Dorcas was across the room talking animatedly to her girlfriend and a few mutual friends that Regulus could’ve gone over to but didn’t want to intrude, he would’ve felt out of place and he didn’t want to ruin their night. Pandora was dancing peculiarly with her boyfriend in the middle of an open area that had been turned into a makeshift dancefloor and Evan and Barty were making out on a sofa so intimately that Regulus wished they would just find a room already.

Regulus stood on his own, nursing the cup of a disgusting amount of mixed drinks and trying his hardest not to scream and punch the next person who stumbled into him in the face.

He spoke to a few people here and there, catching up with someone he hadn’t seen in a while, exchanging pleasantries and laughing about something from their time at school, it had only been a year and a half since they left Hogwarts but it felt like a decade had passed already.

This hadn’t even been a possibility for the past hour? 3 hours? Regulus had lost track of time, everything seemed to be dragging out, torturing him. He was beginning to wonder if he had died and if this was his personal hell. Anyway, the point is he hadn’t even had anyone to talk to because everyone had become so intoxicated it was a slurring, mumbling mess that Regulus couldn’t even try to have a conversation with because they were so out of it.

He had finally managed to escape, hiding in an annexe in the spacious library of Potter Manor. The room was Regulus’ favourite, he had come in here for the first time when he was 16 years old and first ran away from home, trying to find a place where he wouldn’t be bothered by his brother or James.

The library had been his safe haven. Tall shelves lined the walls and created aisles across the room, what must have been thousands of books towering over his head. The ceiling was a mural, delicate drawings that must have taken months to paint, angels stretching out above him reaching for the stars. There were large windows that went from the floor to the ceiling, looking out over the extensive grounds, a fountain with a statue in its centre lining up in the middle of the gravel directly outside

Inside there were several annexes, like the one Regulus was holed up in now, hidden in the shelves, a comfortable curved seat and a string of warm lights creating a little space to curl up with a book and disappear for a while. Regulus had used it to hide then and used it to hide now.

He had, however, never been very good at hiding from James Potter. James had a unique knack of finding Regulus no matter where he went or how hidden he seemed to be, it didn’t matter if he was in the darkest, most remote corner of the world, James would be able to find him.

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise to Regulus when he heard the heavy wooden doors to the library creak open and a set of footsteps start walking immediately to the annexe he was hidden in.

“Found you,” James whispered teasingly, ducking into the annexe, sitting on the other end of the deep green sofa, his body turned to face Regulus with his feet on the seat between them, knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting on top.

“I don’t think the host is supposed to disappear from the party,” Regulus looks up from his book momentarily, raising an eyebrow as he looks at James, trying to work out why he’s up here with him instead of down enjoying the night with people that are more fun. James shrugs and Regulus can see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s the host’s job to make sure everybody is having a good time,” Regulus closes his eyes at James’ response, ignoring the twinge in his chest as the words settle around his heart.

“I’m not your responsibility, go back to the party,” he doesn’t want to ruin this for James. Regulus doesn’t want to be a burden causing James to abandon his own party to come and sit with him in a quiet corner of the house when he hosted this party to enjoy himself.

“No, you’re not, but I prefer hanging out with you anyway,” James responds without a second thought, looking at Regulus with that stupid grin on his face.

“Yeah sure,” Regulus scoffs, turning the page on his book but trying to sneak a glance at James’ expression out of the corner of his eye. James frowns slightly, not liking the fact that Regulus doesn’t believe him and shuffles forward slightly.

“I do, why would I not?” James asks like it isn’t obvious, and it’s so oblivious and innocent that it makes Regulus laugh.

“You hosted this busy, loud party that I got dragged to and then ran away from to hide in your library and read a book, there’s a big difference in how we like to spend our time,”

“Well, yeah, the party’s fun and all and I like making it so people can have fun but I still prefer you over all of them,” James says like his words have no effect on those around him like he can say these things and people won’t be affected by the meaning behind his words.

“You don’t have to come up here and try to make me feel better, it only makes me feel worse.” Regulus really just wants James to go, he’s probably drunk and doesn’t really know what he’s saying and this is only going to hurt.

“Why won’t you believe me?” James exclaims, waving his arms out to the side in frustration and Regulus gulps harshly, he’s managed to piss James off already and it’s only been a few minutes. He doesn’t know why he’s like this, he can’t help it, there is just something fundamentally wrong with him that causes him to always say and do the wrong thing.

“Sorry,” James whispers into the now awkward silence between them, his arms tucked into his chest tightly as if he’s keeping them as far away as possible. “I’m not mad at you I just don’t understand,”

“It’s okay,” Regulus closes his book, feeling like the moment calls for it and places it on the side table. “I don’t understand either,”

“I want you to believe me, Reg, but I don’t know how to make that happen,” Regulus turns to face James, mirroring his position on the sofa, shrugging at James as he tries to find the words.

“I don’t think you can,” Regulus wonders if James can hear his heart shattering as he utters the words into the quiet, the noise seeming to echo in the open room, taunting him as it repeats back to him over and over.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” James smiles, trying to lighten the mood, but his smile isn’t as bright as it usually is and Regulus is hit with another wave of guilt.

“You don’t have to do that,” Regulus goes to protest more but James cuts him off,

“I want to, and I’ll keep telling you I want to until you believe me, and even then I’ll still repeat it to make sure you never doubt it,” And the worst part is, Regulus wants to believe him, he really does but theres something that makes it impossible,

“You don’t know me, If you did you wouldn’t be saying any of this,” James scoffs and shoots Regulus an incredulous look,

“Reg, I know you,”

“You don’t-” Regulus is cut off again and he would be offended if the words coming out of James’ mouth weren’t so eye-opening

“Yes, I do,” James starts rambling, looking Regulus right in the eye, barely even blinking to try and show Regulus that he’s telling the truth. “I know you Regulus. I know you always read the last page of a book before you start it, I know you secretly love it when your friends throw their arms over your shoulders, I know your favourite chocolates are the same as Dorcas' so you pretend not to like them, so, she has them. I know you let Pandora think she's gotten away with stealing your jumpers without you noticing, I know you secretly want people to call you baby black because it makes you feel closer to Sirius. I know you love it when your book group wants to gossip instead of talk about the book. I know you Regulus, from how you take your coffee in the morning to your biggest hopes for the future, and I love you”

James takes a deep breath, letting his words hang between them, giving Regulus the chance to process and really take in what he said. Regulus blinks back the tears in his eyes and tries to keep his voice steady as he responds.

“Okay,” He breaths out shakily, failing to hide his tears from James, who leans forward and wipes them away by brushing his thumb gently over Regulus’ cheek, “Okay, I believe you,”

James beams and it's back to the bright, blinding smile Regulus is used to, the one that lights up a room and really shows just how happy James is. Regulus can’t help but smile back softly despite the tears still escaping his eyes.

“You believe me?” James checks and he laughs in a way that feels like liquid joy pouring over the two of them when Regulus nods to confirm.

“You love me?” Regulus questions, wanting to clarify if James meant it the way Regulus took it, being prepared to smile through the agony of James saying he loves him the same way he loves everyone he’s close to,

“I do,” James answers like they’re getting married like he’s telling the world he wants Regulus to be his forever. To James, he is telling his world that he wants to be with him forever. “Do you believe me?”

“I do,” Regulus responds, trying to express the same emotion but unable to force the words out, they stick in his throat like sickening syrup, clogging his airway and choking him. He loves James, but he can’t tell him that, he doesn’t know how to.

“Can I kiss you?” James asks, his gaze darting from Regulus’ eyes to his lips, his gaze lingering as he watches Regulus’ mouth move to respond,

“Please,” James kisses him the second he’s sure of the confirmation that that's what Regulus wants too, crashing their lips together as the windows light up in an array of colourful explosions.

Regulus has never really liked the saying ‘new year, new me’ but as the clock hits midnight, and the fireworks explode in an array of sparkling light, James Potter kisses him, and he finally understands what they mean and how much a person can change in the span on one kiss.

#christmas #marauders era #christmas writing challenge #regulus black #jegulus #james x regulus #dorcas meadowes #marauders #james potter #james is a simp #regulus and james #new years #happy new year #new years eve #new year new me #regulus is me i am him

24 notes · View notes

prismatoxic · 20 days

Note

you get it. dont mind me, but this has been nagging for a few days when i saw mentions of chilaios has no 'canon basis' or along those lines or dont get why its even a thing and its really not that hard? like theres a ton of reasons why someone would gravitate this ship and for myself while i enjoy the height difference alot, its their deep mutual trust and respect that has me vice gripped. idk it seems like more ARE catching onto chilaios and its steady rising so its weird to still insist on its 'crackship' status

right??? it drives me insane. i don't know what the hell happened in modern fandom for people to dismiss ships with plenty of material to work with as having "no canon basis".

i guess it has something to do with fandom's increasing gravitation towards canon being necessary for shipping. in this fandom specifically you can certainly ship farcille by that metric, and like... god, i dunno what else. i assume they're just making shit up about how their ships of choice have a canon basis to make themselves feel better about it. bc at the end of the day, dunmeshi is not a romance, and the only kiss we ever see is from a relationship where one is in love and the other is like "aw, you're such a good friend." (kabru was real mean for that.)

either way, back to chilaios--back in my day (shakes cane), what they have was more than enough for a "valid" ship. so much so that no one would have questioned it except people who hated it. which... is probably true here as well, a lot of the time. like, dismissing a ship you don't like as being meaningless probably feels pretty good if you actually believe yourself.

you know what an actual dunmeshi crackship would be? (throws a dart at the wall) mithrun/dandan. makes no sense, right? they were in the same room maybe once, never interacted, and have no reason to interact. that's what a crackship is. it has no canon basis whatsoever.

crackships and rarepairs can overlap, and often do, but a rarepair can also be something with real canon interactions that just didn't take off in the fandom. chilbell probably still counts as one, though it does have fics and art, so your mileage may vary.

chilaios, then, with an entire fucking 14-volume-manga's worth of interactions, several of which were important specifically to the two of them, is not a crackship, and god knows it's no longer a rarepair either, if it even was back before the anime. (i know there was like, 1 fic on ao3, but the manga was being published for like 10 years so i assume the general fandom was just a lot smaller.)

calling chilaios a crackship is straight up just not true. not what that term means. they have the same amount of canon basis as multiple other popular ships, and imo they have the chemistry to back it up, but even that isn't necessary. all told it's a pretty standard ship. they're friends, there's tension between them but there's also a deep mutual trust, and there are very few chapters where they don't directly interact (either because the chapter isn't about the touden party or bc one of them isn't present).

sorry for rambling. i feel passionate about this, lmao... not even just because it's my otp but because misuse of fandom terms drives me up the fucking wall.

#tox answers

11 notes · View notes

froggyworlds · 4 months

Text

some fun facts from the Confession AU! copy and pasted from discord and also it's almost one in the morning, so apologies if it's not very coherent

Dave is. actually pretty good with makeup! he doesn't wear it often (for a few reasons, one of which being that that was Cesar's thing.), but he'll help Evelin out especially if she's doing something fancy, and they totally paint their nails together. god I wish Dave was my boss-

despite fully consuming Cesar while only barely touching Mark, Dave is a lot more like the latter appearance-wise and got a lot of mannerisms from him as well. assimilating Cesar definitely wasn't pleasant and it started that feeling of guilt and humanity, but the reason he didn't consume Mark's form the way he had Cesar's was because of just how potent the kid's thoughts were, still ringing despite the light already gone from his eyes and blood pooling around his head. it was like food directly out of the oven; burns your mouth and hurts to swallow. so Dave got a lot of surface influence from Mark with just a little bit of contact and was absolutely sent reeling, but doesn't actually have like. a perfect mimicry of his appearance or really any of his memories, just mannerisms (mostly fidgeting with his necklacelanyard)

he and O'Brien are friends! they're not super close, not in the way Dave is with Thatcher, but Gabriel O'Brien is an occasional friendly face at MandelaTECH and actually helped Dave get the shop up and running in the first place !! Dave probably owes the guy more than a few favors, but O'Brien's pretty insistent he doesn't need anything. though it'd be great if Dave would come to services sometime, Dave insists he's "not a man of God". (he's also brought it up once, "You know those- things prey on religion, right? Don't you think it might not be safe to be-" "Nonsense. God will guide and protect us. There's nothing to fear in His embrace. Anything that does happen is part of His plan anyways. Why be afraid of something that cannot be stopped?" and that had been the end of that discussion.)

Dave cannot hold a gun. as in he knows, with awful clarity and understanding, how to use one, but he physically can't hold it for more than two seconds before either having to set it back down or risk dropping it from shaking so hard. Thatcher has no idea why he acts that way around firearms (probably something to do with Mark; losing a nephew, let alone like that... still, the other man's reaction seemed so extreme, you'd think he had some kind of personal bad experience.), but out of courtesy either doesn't bring his when they meet up, or keeps it out of sight and doesn't mention it

Mark and Cesar were not the first victims claimed by this alternate. they were the last (at least for quite some time), but there were other unfortunate souls lost before them. one of its first assimilations had been one of the worst yet, overdriven to the extreme; literally eyes without a face, and even a second attempt at the same form was just as flawed. it was what originally gave the idea to try to have alts consume victims in order to reduce the chance of further imperfections, with the - perhaps unlucky - alt who had started the whole thing as the first guinea pig. we all saw how that turned out.

Turkey is allowed free roam of all of MandelaTECH and has figured out how to turn the CRT TV on by pecking the big button. Dave keeps the TV in a closet after the tech and mirror ban, well out of Turkey's reach, and also has it unplugged for good measure. Turkey also usually sleeps at the foot of Dave's bed, which is actually really really cute

Dave and Six have chatted before ! only briefly, but it actually wasn't a totally hostile conversation, more like your weird cousin visiting out of the blue and you can tell he's quietly judging you for your life choices, but what's his business in what you do, anyways? it was more. awkward than anything .the hostilities are saved for interactions with a certain Someone Else.

#mythic's aus #the mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue au #tmc #tmc au #dave lee #thatcher davis #mark heathcliff #confession au #cesar torres #alt!cesar #tmc n #mythic's musings #I really need to post more abt what's going on in this au #cause. there is so much

13 notes · View notes

6kuros · 1 year

Note

As a fellow creator who is also disturbed and upset by the revelation of pizza tower being a product of 4chan type people, I'm wondering how you handle it? I still want to draw fan art but Im struggling to not get uncomfortable. Basically, I have both love and hate for the game now, and you seem like a cool person so Im wondering how you deal with that. Love your pizza tower fan art sm btw!

im really glad that you enjoy my art, and also am flattered you think im cool!!!

first of all, id like to mention that the art i posted just now was art that i had finished last night, before everything about mcpig came to light and i just wanted to post it since i already had it done…still unsure if im going to draw consistent pizza tower in the future honestly, id like to because its a lot of fun and i really do love a lot about the game. ideally, the current situation would change somehow so i can do that without any discomfort for myself or others, but the only way i foresee that happening is if the devs actually remove the racist shit from the game

what makes me feel (kind of) okay about producing fanart for the game despite what emerged is mostly the fact that as long as i am not reproducing the harmful contents of the game, nor directly supporting the people behind it, im not putting any harm into the world or perpetuating the 4chan stuff i guess? the only thing im really worried about is possibly getting people to want to buy the game by putting my fanart out there, but considering the games popularity from streaming and youtube videos i dont see my own art as contributing to that much. that makes it easier for me not to feel unsettled when i draw fanart for it, but i think that depends on how you view the relationship between fanart and source material, especially in an interactive space like the internet. if you think your art risks sending the message that you approve of negative aspects of a piece of media then its probably better not to share that art

theres also the fact that from the messages that were revealed i get the impression that at some point mcpig had a sort of disdain for "cringe leftists" being fans of the game i guess, and i would consider myself someone who he would/would have found cringe at one point lol. so by being into the game its kind of a fuck you idc that you hate me, this thing you made is being enjoyed by cringe leftists. considering the tone of some of the messages was "if people get mad at me im just going to be edgy in response" i dont even think disengaging with the game would even bother him at all. but all of that is really just speculation and i dont want to insinuate that engaging with bigoted media is proactive just because you are a marginalized person or have progressive politics. its important to actually weigh the harm of your actions and what effect you have with your consumption of said media i dont really know if thats a good answer though, and if it holds up to any sort of moral judgement. i do think its possible to enjoy problematic media, but considering how new the game is its not the kind of thing i can look at and be like "this piece of media is from x years ago and doesnt do real harm now". my worst fear is that there are pizza tower fans who are going to see the awful shit in the game and replicate it, bc the game somehow makes them thinks theres nothing wrong with it or that they can do so without consequence. just from a scope of the fandom there seem to be a lot of young teenagers so Yeah. im concerned in that regard and id like to beam a message into kids' brains thats just like Hey this character design/behavior fucking sucks Dont do this

so, by posting my art anyway i hope i can contribute to a portion of the fanbase that is outwardly against the bigoted content in the game, as an alternative to mcpig dick riders/defenders. and if there are any fans out there involved in the community who dont know better, hopefully they can learn, and avoid perpetuating bigotry

all that being said, your feelings on the matter may be very different, and you dont have to abide to any of this thinking. if a piece of media is upsetting you, its okay to step away from it as long as you need. maybe see how you feel when you come back to it and if the hateful feelings are still there, there is no obligation to engage further

(and as a bottom line if anybody reading this is considering playing pizza tower i suggest you pirate it instead of paying for it)

#ask #anon #also just want to say im open to having a discussion about this and towards critiques of my argument but if it gets to the point #where people are being unreasonable and aggressive ill be turning off anon/closing my askbox

57 notes · View notes

power-chords · 5 months

Note

The zine sounds interesting. I feel like I know almost nothing about literary/film theory though, so I’m not sure how much I’d get out of it. Good job on your work though, sounds like you have a lot to be proud of.

Your commute sounds awful bro.

Thank you! It's definitely not for casual Mann fans. I really did want to create something that was neither freely available nor immediately accessible and that had that set of guardrails in place. With that said, it's not an academic work and it's not designed to be impenetrable to someone without a background in film theory or literary theory. I have neither of those things! The people it's designed to "keep out" are dispassionate tourists. If you want a copy of it you have to be able to find it first and you have to interact with me directly; its intended audience will find it of its own accord. We've lost niche weirdo subcultural fan spaces like forums and standalone websites and the Mannzine was motivated by that kind of bygone sensibility. If you ever decide you want a copy just let me know. If not, that's cool, too.

And my commute objectively sucks but I don't experience it as "awful" except through the months of January-February where everything feels extra awful anyway, lol. I'm used to it and it forces me to go outside and walk a few miles every day which is a net benefit to my physical and mental health. It's more the fact that I am commuting for work than the activity of walking around a city and taking trains with my headphones on, something I in fact enthusiastically enjoy doing.

10 notes · View notes

fallowtail · 1 year

Text

thinking about hetty again what else is new. putting it under a read more because i feel bad i keep spamming the tag with long posts about my blorbo lol

sorry if none of this makes any sense or is cohesive i'm just rambling ok but i just (clenches fist) the fact they decided to let hetty feel realistic in her place as an upper class victorian woman...(throwing her at the wall) they could have been easy and made her a rich white upper class woman who was still a feminist despite her complete lack of life experience outside the confines of her home, but instead they made her truly feel like she came from her class and stature and i LOVE it. she is so so so fundamentally and deeply flawed

she's awful to people she perceives as below her and she's manipulative and desperate for power and to feel like she's in control and she wants to boss the other ghosts around, and she wasn't a woman who was interested in the idea of feminism because she had no exposure to any other world view than the one she was entrenched in and praised and rewarded for (outside of her direct family situation...we can all agree she was not being rewarded by elias lol) so it didn't even click as an option for her, let alone really even having much awareness of the concept.

she hated how her husband treated her but didn't necessarily think it was wrong of him to be doing so (which we find out from her interaction with molly) bc why would it be, that's just the way things were! we see this "its just the way things were" mindset as well with how hetty is able to bring herself to extend the olive branch to elias despite how much she hates him, because if she is being offered a chance to learn to be good than well...doesn't he deserve that too? until he tells her to fuck off essentially and she immediately, well, we all know what she does with that information lol (i almost wish he hadnt gone down on us so soon after his introduction though, because...would she have kept trying? i think maybe she might have.)

she's managed to get to a place where she realizes how she lived her life was bad and that she's in "purgatory" for a reason, and she realizes that she wants to change and be good, but she struggles with it because she doesn't have any frame of reference to know what about her behavior was bad, and what it was she was doing that made her an awful person. she just doesn't know until someone directly tells her because she has no frame of reference to know these things, and a lot of the times the other ghosts...don't tell her. you get the idea that, up until sam showed up, the other ghosts didn't actually do much to explain things to her, they just get annoyed that she doesn't get it, they roll their eyes because that's just how hetty is, but when stuff actually gets explained to her (sam + flower + alberta, usually) she is able to digest it and we get to watch her very slowly develop empathy and sympathy for other people, even if it takes her some time to get there and if she doesn't fully connect the dots right away.

there's such an interesting plot thread with hetty of the duality of living within a place of privilege and imprisonment at the same time and how that shaped her, and now that she's being exposed to other concepts, to other worldviews, to being able to interact with people outside of her social bubble, she is interested in them, but is repeatedly dragged back down by years of social conditioning (example: the scene where she tells flower not to let pete treat her badly, that she doesn't want to spend her afterlife continuing to forgive the sins of the men in her life, but then continues to do that exact same thing over and over again) because change isn't linear and by god is hetty woodstone walking a wobbly line and looping herself around in circles while she tries to figure it out.

hetty was/is screaming about the yellow wallpaper but instead of tearing herself apart she took it out on everyone else around her, specifically her employees (#girlboss!) because she was in a position to do so with little to no consequences, it was what was expected of her, and it would be the only actual sense of control she had, and she enjoyed it. in the newest episode hetty comes to the conclusion that sam is correct and that you can't treat modern workers that way, in a showcase of how she only ever kind of gets it- the lesson there was that "hetty, treating people like that is (was) wrong period", but she always gets stuck filtering the lesson through the social expectations of her time. she's trying, and making an effort, but she struggles to fully get there, especially when it concerns her own past bad behaviors and isn't something that can bring her a sense of pleasure.

WHEW. hetty woodstone, good lord. what a character.

#sorry i keep clogging the tag with these posts im going through it #cbs ghosts #z #i just. hetty. man #i love that rebecca thinks these things as well i love that all the things i spiral over are acting choices that are deliberate #if u ever wanna talk to me about these characters btw my dms are open #especially hetty if you have things to add bc i am NOT very good at character analysis and would love to hear more

45 notes · View notes