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bblovetarot · 4 months

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{୨୧} Why are people attracted to you? + a Quote

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ Pick a Pile ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

i listen to music while doing pac, so i decided to put down lyrics down that i feel are important to the specific pile. let me know if it resonates!

i was listening to the miseducation of lauryn hill by lauryn hill

. ༄ paid readings . ༄

。°⚠︎°。follow your intuition when choosing a pile. if you're drawn to more than one pile, that's okay! you may have messages in more than one.

。°⚠︎°。tarot readings are not 100% accurate, and do not dictate your future. please keep in mind that you have free will. these readings are also general and aren't specific to one person, so please take what resonates and leave what doesn't!

Pile 1

"you might win some but you just lost one"

People are drawn to your positive energy, admiring your ability to shake off negativity swiftly. It's possible, however, that you've encountered manipulative individuals offering empty promises and taking without giving. This may have hindered you from stepping out of your comfort zone to pursue your desires. You're likely someone who wears their heart on their sleeve, exuding compassion and love. Unfortunately, others may have taken advantage of your generosity, and Spirit suggests establishing stronger boundaries to protect your energy. Whether in friendships or romantic relationships, be discerning. Your commitment to connections is evident, yet you're also keenly aware when something impedes your potential. While you invest deeply, you won't hesitate to walk away when necessary, although this decision may take time. Your dedication, primarily to yourself, is apparent to those around you. Despite being caring and open-hearted, you refuse to let anything keep you in a low vibrational state for long. You're determined to rise above challenges, trusting in the universe to deliver what you deserve. You possess significant aspirations, and people admire your refusal to succumb to those who may want to limit you. Your persistence and determination resonate with others who see you as an inspiration. Your creative side, though possibly overlooked by yourself, is a gift meant to be shared with the world. The universe encourages you to press on, assuring you that your journey is not in vain. Even if you're grappling with recent departures or energy-draining situations, the universe urges you to persevere. Acknowledge your self-worth and creative talents, recognizing that your journey inspires those who witness your strength during difficult times. Your energy, though not always consciously recognized, radiates strongly, attracting people who genuinely appreciate you. Embrace your worth, rise above negativity, and trust that your dedication will lead you to the success you envision. The universe is continuously supporting your journey.

Pile 2

"girls, you better watch out, some guys are only about- that thing"

Oh dear, it seems you may have encountered individuals drawn to your physical allure, making false promises of mutual connection while harboring ulterior motives. Your captivating and welcoming nature, combined with a lack of boundaries, can attract those who see an opportunity to engage with your vibrant energy. These individuals, often described as energy vampires, thrive on noncommittal behavior, utilizing others for their own gain and enjoying the thrill of the game. The universe is sending a clear message: establish boundaries with yourself. Not everyone deserves access to your fiery energy that breathes life into everything you touch. Fight for yourself, my love, and refrain from giving everything away indiscriminately. Recognize that your fire is a precious gift, not to be played with by those who lack sincerity and maturity. By setting boundaries, you shield yourself from burnout and unlock your full potential. Your generosity, showcased in your gifts and love, is admirable, but it's crucial to discern who truly deserves your precious energy. People may desire your warmth and affection, but establishing boundaries is key to maintaining the authenticity of your connections. The universe assures you that you can manifest the deep, meaningful relationships you dream of. Despite any doubts, know that you are deserving of love and the companionship you seek. Upholding boundaries is not a hindrance but a declaration of self-worth. Rebuild your self-confidence and continue the journey of self-protection. As you assert your needs and stand up for yourself, you will attract those who genuinely appreciate and reciprocate the love and energy you offer. Trust in the process, my dear, and believe in the love and friendships that align with the standards you set for yourself.

Pile 3

"forgive them father for they know not what they do"

Pile 3, you emanate the essence of a healer. Whether in a profession that involves assisting others or simply through your natural inclination to help, people are drawn to your compassionate nature. Your emotional maturity sets you apart, allowing you to discern when situations aren't working and find compromises without resorting to chaos. As a leader in your own right, you stand firmly in your power, not reliant on others to pave your way. Individuals seek your counsel, finding solace in your wise advice. Your maturity is a beacon that attracts those tired of drama and dysfunction, as you offer a refreshing and comforting energy. You have the ability to make people feel welcome, particularly those who tend to isolate themselves. Your presence infuses life and joy, uplifting those who may be struggling. Your positivity is infectious, creating a ripple effect of happiness. Even if you possess a hint of shyness, your radiant inner light shines brightly, capturing the admiration of those around you. Your beauty, both inside and out, is truly remarkable. People are enamored by your ability to bring happiness to any situation, transforming the energy of those who may be feeling lonely or disheartened. In your presence, gloom transforms into light, and you serve as the beacon that lifts the spirits of those around you. Your light is not only captivating but also transformative, making you the radiant center of any group. People are undeniably attracted to the positive, calm, and surreal energy you exude. You are, without a doubt, the light that others are drawn to, and your presence has a profound impact on those fortunate enough to be around you.

#intuitive readings #tarot reading #pac reading #pac tarot #pick a pile #pick a card reading #tarot pac #pac readings #pick a card tarot #pick a gif

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writingwithciara · 2 months

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Love Or Something Like It ~Quinn Hughes~

summary: quinn's girlfriend sucks but y/n's boyfriend is the best

word count: 3.2k

pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader, brief elias pettersson x reader

notes: another quinn x roommate fic. not set in the same universe as the last one. italics are the past. was supposed to post this on valentines day but did not have access to my laptop

masterlist

quinn and y/n were best friends. had been since they were younger. after she finished her schooling at the university of michigan, she followed quinn to vancouver, per his request.

he needed her nearby and somehow, knowing his best friend was there, made him play so much better.

although they hadn't seen each other in person for months, everything easily went back to normal. it was as if the distance was never a problem.

things were easy, until they weren't.

quinn had gotten himself a girlfriend the third month y/n had been living with him. rebecca was only nice to y/n when they were with other people but when they were alone, she would get angry and threaten y/n with anything she could think of.

it was very clear she was jealous. but why did she have to be? y/n wasn't as pretty as rebecca, a fact that she pointed out whenever they were alone, and she didn't want to be with quinn. she had her own boyfriend back in michigan. one she loved with her whole heart, despite all the red flags he gave off.

it hurt quinn to think that y/n wasn't being treated the way she deserved. he knew he had to do something to fix it. and since valentines day was coming up, he thought it'd be perfect to set y/n up on a blind date & rebecca agreed, offering up tons of suggestions. but quinn already had the perfect person in mind.

so, on valentine's day of 2023, y/n was sitting in a fancy restaurant with quinn and rebecca while they waited for the mystery man to show up.

"hey. sorry i'm late."

y/n looked up when she heard the voice. she had heard it many times before at canucks events. elias pettersson stood before her. his bright blue eyes staring back at her with a smile that didn't seem to want to leave his face.

"no worries." y/n smiled up at him as he took the seat across from her. she may have had a boyfriend but in the moment, her only though was how good elias looked tonight.

as they ate, y/n & elias got lost in their own little world. quinn tried not to notice it but the more she laughed, the more distracted quinn got. he didn't think he was jealous until later that night when rebecca brought it up.

"if you're so into her, why did you set her up with your teammate? better yet, why are you dating me?"

"becca, please can we not do this right now?"

"why not, quinn? it's the perfect time to address these feelings. i've been holding mine in since we met. every time you brought her up in conversations, it made me feel small. you're my boyfriend. you're supposed to love me, not her."

"my love for you is completely different than my love for her."

"so you admit that you love her?"

"of course i do. she's been my best friend since we were 8 years old. i've got nothing but love for her." quinn took a step closer to his girlfriend. "but i'm not in love with her. that's the difference here."

"are you trying to convince me or yourself?" rebecca grabbed her bag and walked to the door. "call me when you get it right, hughes."

and just like that, rebecca was gone.

quinn had tried multiple times to call her and tell her he only wanted to be with her, but only received her voicemail each time.

over the next few weeks, y/n spent more and more time with elias. she was almost never home anymore and quinn was alone 90% of the time. he would drive to practice alone and he would watch as y/n slowly transitioned herself from a hughes fan to a pettersson fan.

she started wearing elias' jersey instead of quinn's and it created an unfamiliar pain in his chest the more it became evident.

when y/n found out her boyfriend had cheated on her, she didn't run to quinn. she ran straight to elias instead, breaking quinn's heart.

he realized that the unfamiliar sting in his chest was jealousy. quinn didn't want to see y/n with anyone but himself but unfortunately for him, he was a little late to the realization.

one night while quinn was at home, y/n was over at elias' place. she came home with a big smile on her face that night & quinn knew why, but he asked anyway.

"what's got you so smiley tonight?"

"elias made me dinner and asked me to be his girlfriend."

and there was that stinging feeling right where it didn't need to be. only it was 10 times worse this time. he was hopelessly in love with her & had no idea how to deal with it.

it wasn't until the beginning of february 2024 that quinn had hope again.

he and y/n were washing the dishes together when she rubbed her eye with her forearm. some of the suds came off on her cheek and as quinn went to wipe them away, her breath hitched and her cheeks were turning red.

"here, let me get that for you." he wiped the suds away and smiled. "there, all gone."

"gee, thanks quinn." y/n flicked some water at him, causing the soap suds to go everywhere. the look in quinn's eyes was enough of a warning for her. she took off out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

"you've got nowhere to run now, y/n." quinn smirked evilly, moving closer to y/n until her back was pressed against the wall. y/n swallowed the lump in her throat before looking at his lips. this only caused quinn to lean down and whisper in her ear. "gotcha." he wiped the suds on her face and smiled. when he looked down at her, she was staring at his lips. "what's on your mind?" he teased.

"n-nothing." she quickly looked away and moved away from the wall. she headed back into the kitchen to finish the dishes. quinn took a moment by himself before joining her.

"so, valentines day is coming up in a few days. you and elias have anything huge planned?"

"he won't tell me." y/n washed the last plate and handed it to quinn. he dried it and put it in it's place before turning back to y/n.

"does he know you hate surprises?"

"i don't hate them, quinn." y/n shook her head.

"you don't like secrets and those are practically the same thing."

"i guess so." y/n turned to quinn. "but elias has been off lately. did anything happen at practice?"

"no. why?"

"i don't know why he's acting this way."

"what way?"

"dodgy? i think that's the word to describe it." y/n sighed. "he's not seeing someone else...is he?" the sadness in y/n's voice made quinn's heart break.

"no. of course not. elias is a good guy. you just gotta talk to him and see what's going on."

"i'll try." y/n walked to her bedroom but before she entered, she turned to quinn. "hey. are you still dating rebecca?"

"no. she, um, broke up with me. almost a year ago."

"good." she looked up at him and backtracked her comment. "i mean, not good as in it's good she broke up with you. i meant good as in it's good that she's gone. she was terrible."

"yeah she really was. and i'm sorry again for what she did and said to you."

"it's not your fault, quinn."

"it kind of is. if i hadn't been dating her to cover up the fact that i was jealous- nevermind." he caught himself before he revealed too much.

"jealous of what? you can't just leave the comment there. who were you jealous of?"

"nobody. just forget i said anything." quinn smiled at his roommate. "good night."

y/n stood in her doorway with a puzzled look on her face. why did every guy in her life have to keep a secret from her.

y/n shook her head and went into her own room. she called jack because he was the only she knew who wouldn't keep a secret from her.

"hey. what's up y/n?"

"jack, i need some information and i know you'll give it to me because you are the only one i know who never hides things from me."

"well, i can definitely give you information. but it also depends on what it is. i might not know what you're asking about."

"fair point. but it's about quinn and i know you know all about your brother."

"yeah i do. what's the information you need?"

"5 minutes ago, he said he was only dating rebecca because he was jealous but he wouldn't tell me why he was jealous or what he was jealous of."

"he's jealous of you and elias." jack responded with no hesitation, causing y/n to gasp a little louder than expected.

"but he was dating rebecca before i started dating elias. how could he be jealous?"

"maybe jealous wasn't the word he meant to use. he probably was trying to say he was only dating her because he was trying to get over how he felt about you." jack thought for a second. "or maybe he was jealous of you and that michigan douchebag you were dating when you moved to vancouver."

"that's a little more logical. but he doesn't love me, jack. and even if he did, it wouldn't matter. i'm dating elias and i love him. not quinn."

unbeknownst to y/n, quinn had come out of his room and had heard her say she didn't love him. the last few pieces of his heart shattered and he suddenly couldn't breath.

before he made any noise, he made his way back to his room, collapsing against the door. why did he have to love his best friend? his very not single best friend.

for the next 2 days, quinn would avoid y/n at all costs. he would wake up super early and leave the apartment before he saw her & he wouldn't even acknowledge her at practice or at games.

it was breaking her heart but it wasn't known why it was affecting her so badly.

on valentines day, elias had set up a romantic picnic for her in his backyard. she appreciated it but her mind was stuck on the way quinn was treating her lately. and elias wasn't blind or stupid. he could tell she was hurting.

"hey, love. are you alright?"

"i'm fine." y/n smiled and sipped her champagne. "why do you ask?"

"because i know you're not fine. i can see the far away look you have in your eye. you're deep in thought about something and i can tell it's hurting you. and i love you so please tell me what's going on with you. i just want to make you feel better."

"quinn has been my best friend forever but this past year alone, i've been feeling him pulling away and i don't know why." she sighed. "do you think he's tired of having me in his life?"

"what? no that's impossible. who could get tired of having you in their life? and quinn is the very last person who would want to do that to you. he cares about you, a lot."

"i know that's how it's supposed to feel but lately, things have been different. if he cared about me at all, he wouldn't be avoiding me whenever he had the opportunity to do it."

it was elias' turn to sigh. "it's because he's finally realizing he's in love with you. he has been for a while."

"no he hasn't. why does everyone keep saying that?"

"because it's true." elias took his girlfriends hand and smiled. "and i don't blame him. you make everyone fall in love with you like it's the easiest thing to do. and you don't even know the effect you have on us. you should've heard the way quinn talked about you the night he asked me to take you out on that date for valentines day. i already knew you and i had already said yes but he kept saying all these really nice things about you. things a best friend wouldn't say. i'm telling you, y/n. quinn is in love with you." elias sighed. "and i think you love him too."

"well, of course i do. he's my best friend." y/n smiled. "but that doesn't matter. i love you, elias. and that should be what matters here."

"i love you enough to know that being with quinn is what you need." by now, it was obvious they both had tears in their eyes.

"why do you have to be the sweetest human being on this planet?"

"well, i am swedish." he smiled and held her close. "you're always going to be the best girlfriend i've ever had. and not just because you're the only one i've had. you're always going to hold the crown."

"so does this mean we're breaking up?"

"yes. but i still love you. always will." he held her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "now, let's get you home so you can tell quinn."

back at the apartment, quinn was trying to put something together to express every emotion he was feeling. after he had everything put together, there was a knock on the door.

he opened it and rebecca walked in. she looked around the apartment then back at quinn.

"well this isn't what i was expecting when i came here." she smiled. "but it's thoughtful, quinn. can't believe you went through all of this for me."

"actually, i-" he didn't have time to tell her it was for y/n before rebecca was pulling him in for a kiss.

"seriously?" y/n was standing in the doorway, watching the whole thing unfold. rebecca pulled away from quinn rather harshly at the sound of y/n's voice.

"y/n, this isn't-"

"i'm ruining a romantic moment. i'm sorry. i'll leave."

"you're right. you are and you should. bye." rebecca waved and y/n turned to walk back out.

"no, y/n wait!" quinn called out to her then turned to rebecca. "you need to go."

"what are you talking about?"

"this wasn't for you, rebecca. it would've been if you hadn't broken up with me a year ago. but it's not now."

"then who's it for?" rebecca searched quinn's face for a sign before her eyes landed on y/n, who was halfway out the door. "seriously? for her? thought you said you weren't in love with her."

"yeah well maybe i am now!"

y/n stopped in her tracks and turned back around.

"what?" y/n and rebecca responded.

"yeah. and maybe i always have been. it may have been a subconscious act and maybe that's why i always needed her to be close by. we can't help who we love and you can't be mad at y/n for the way that i feel. she did nothing wrong."

"she's done nothing but come between us since the moment we started dating, quinn."

"just leave, rebecca."

"no. i think i'll go. elias is waiting for me downstairs anyway." y/n turned around and walked out of he building. she got halfway down the street before it started raining.

a car sped past her and she knew it was rebecca just by the way the car aggressively sped through a puddle and nearly splashed her.

"oh tonight could not get any worse!" she shouted in frustration, kicking at a rock in her path.

"y/n, wait!" quinn shouted as he ran up to her.

"quinn, i'm not really in the mood to talk right now."

"then just listen to me. i'll do all the talking."

"fine. but can we go home? i'm freezing."

"of course." they both stayed silent as they headed back to their apartment. quinn wanted to say everything he was feeling but he wanted to wait until y/n was in a better mood. he knew she hated wet clothes so as soon as they walked through the door, he was rushing to his room to get her a tshirt and a pair of sweatpants. she accepted them without a word and went to the bathroom to change.

when she came out, the smell of hot chocolate filled her nostrils and it brought her a sense of joy. only quinn would be this thoughtful when she was mad at him.

she walked into the living room and sat down, silently taking the mug quinn offered her. she took a sip and smiled. that's when quinn knew he was doing good.

"okay. i'm ready to listen." y/n held the mug close and looked at him. his hair was still wet from the rain and she suddenly found herself wanting to run her fingers through the mess.

"okay. um, first off, rebecca and i are most definitely not together. just want to clarify that. and all of this," he glanced up at y/n & gestured around the apartment. "i set it all up for you. i know you're dating elias and you probably got something super romantic for valentines day but i wanted to do something for you too, even if it's only platonic between us. and im fine with that because you're my best friend and im sorry for rebecca and im sorry for ignoring you. it was a bad move on my part. but i heard you talking to jack the other night and you told him you didn't love me so i figured you'd want some space."

"elias and i broke up." y/n set her mug on the coffee table and stared down at her hands. "but it's okay. he's still a really good friend and that makes me happy."

"why'd you guys break up?"

"he could tell i was hurting and he kinda figured out how i feel about you."

"and how's that?"

"i didn't think i loved you until he pointed it out. but now it all makes sense. i was so eager to leave my life in michigan just to move out here to be closer to you & now i know why. i also know why it was weird seeing you with rebecca. it felt unnatural because deep down, i knew you and i were supposed to be together. we've been together our whole lives but never in a million years did i think there was a reason we were so attached to each other." y/n glanced over to find quinn staring at her already. "i do love you, quinn. and i know you love me too."

"i do. i definitely do." he smiled and moved closer. "i always will. and i'm willing to wait for you, however long it takes."

"you're perfect, quinn. i love you so much." she moved forward and threw her arms around him. he held her close and pulled her sideways onto his lap to make her more comfortable. "how about we go on a real date next saturday?"

"that sounds perfect." he looked at her and it took all of his willpower to not kiss her. she didn't care. her hands went to his cheeks and her lips attached to his.

it was a perfect moment for the both of them and neither of them cared about the world around them. as far as they were concerned, it was just the two of them for the rest of their lives.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691

#quinn hughes #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader

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cowyolks · 1 year

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SWEET ELIXIR

Pairing: Vampire!Keegan Russ x Female!Reader

Prompt: After an unfortunate capture, Keegan is held hostage by the Federation. Unable to break his tough resolve, Rorke injects him with a new type of drug, something that makes him inhuman. Now a blood sucking monster, Keegan is turned loose with the objective to hunt his fellow teammates, including you.

Words: 5.2 k

Warnings: Keegan is a horny vampire, Biting, Blood Kink, Oral (f receiving), Fingering, Blood sucking, P in V sex, creampie, obsession with pulse points, typical COD violence, a lil bit of cock warming to balance it all out. And I feel as if whiny Keegan needs it’s own warning.

A/n: this took too long. Bite me! Get it?

“You’re a tough son of a bitch to find.” The familiar growl of a former teammate met his ringing ears rather roughly.

If he was able to lift his head, he may have considered spitting on Rorke’s face in angry retaliation. But Keegan felt numb, he could no longer feel his fingertips against the cold restraints of his prison cell. His bare torso was more black and blue than his actual skin tone, and blood dripped from his torso down to his pants.

He was dying, that much he knew.

Yet, the Ghost would rather take a stabbing blade one hundred times to the heart than let the federation capture you.

He’d do anything. Fight anyone. Bear any wound or torture just to know you were safe. And maybe that made him foolish, and for that he’d willingly be called a fool.

It was supposed to be a simple scout mission, to access the liveliness of a border camp that the Federation had set up just on the outskirts of San Francisco. It was you and him, the quiet ones of the Ghosts.

You were a lethal one, always quick and steady on your feet. It had gotten you in trouble before ODIN, often times you’d be reprimanded by your Drill Sergeants before you eventually fell under the command of Elias Walker. You were forever in his debt, because now, you found a family you’d never known.

You’d been trying to crack Keegan’s shell ever since Operation Sand Viper. You were both so young back then, fresh out of High School and foolishly trying to prove yourselves. You’d fought tooth and nail with him the first few years, always attempting to one up each other.

Now, you worked as a well oiled machine. You covered his back, he shielded yours.

He smiled through the pain as he recalled how he’d been captured. You’d been so excited to go with him on the mission, the two of you hadn’t had any alone time in months. Simply resolving in hidden affections of stolen kisses and longing caresses he’d wished were more.

He’d finished scouting the camp, taking notes and envisioning tactics to take on the tangos once Ajax, Merrick, and Kick joined in. You were next to him, crouched down and putting your binoculars away.

“I gotcha something.” You hummed as you silently continued to shuffle through your pack.

His eyes fell away from the camp in finality, stepping back into the cover of everglade and leaves. His gaze softened slightly as he took you in, a faint crinkle catching upon the corner of his eyes.

You held out the faded package to him with a giddy look, and although your nose and lips were covered by your mask, he could still see just how happy you were to gauge his reaction. He felt his own lips pull against the worn fabric of his mask, a twinkle in his eyes as he studied the package now in his palm.

A honeybun.

He chuckled silently at the offering. You’d been quick to catch onto Keegan’s undeniable sweet tooth. He was always one to raid safehouses and cars for any sweet he could get his hands on. Often times you’d find him sucking on peppermints to break his awful cigarette addiction, something you found slightly amusing.

You didn’t mind tasting mint on his lips.

“Where’d you find the time to snatch this?” His voice was rough from not speaking, but the soft edge was still heard. You simply shrugged, watching him tear open the package. “I have my ways.”

He split the stale cake into two pieces, offering one out to you, which you took graciously. It had been a long time since either of you had anything sweet, regardless of it being stale and expired.

You chewed upon the artificial pastry, grimacing at the taste that reminded you of sugary sawdust, yet Keegan seemed to be enjoying the treat regardless. He licked the crumbs from his fingers, his jaw ticking slightly from chewing, it had been a while since he shaved. Still the shadow growing on his cheeks definitely suited him.

“What’re you staring at, doll?”

You scoffed at his teasing tone, lightly giving him a shove. Just as you were about to retaliate a gunshot rang through the night air. On instinct, the two of you ducked, yet it was far easier for you to drop to the ground.

Keegan shouldered his rifle, eyes glinting as he clicked the safety off and turned into the direction he thought the shot came from.

“It came from East of us, about four o’clock.” His voice dropped into his usual ordering tone. But a slow sniffle made him drop his gaze to you. Your hand was clutched over your shoulder, red already leaking through your fingers and soaking your clothes.

“Fuck! Hang in there, beautiful,” he felt his heart drop, even though you were doing everything right—Putting pressure on the wound. His own hand covered yours, pushing down even harder. You whined in protest which had him cursing.

“I know, doll. I know it hurts, but keep that pressure.”

He pushed a hand to his comm, frantically shaking fingers nearly missing the open line. Your blood smeared across his face accidentally. He’d never been so sick by the thought.

“Merrick! Requesting immediate EVAC.” His voice was commanding, though it rang loosely like you were underwater. The bullet wound hurt like a toothache, a constant throb, that had your eyelids betraying you like an anchor to sea.

“Hey!” Keegan spoke above you, lightly patting upon your clothed cheek to keep you awake. “I told Merrick our exact coordinates. Stay put, I’ll draw them away.”

You hummed, before he grasped your chin between his fingers. “Tell me you understand.” He ordered, just as you weakly held up a thumbs up.

“I understand.”

With a nod, Keegan left the cover of the brush, and that was the last you saw before your eyes closed.

His head whipped to the side, a forceful smack hit the flesh so hard it had him spitting blood. His knuckles clenched bone white at his sides.

“I’ll give you one last chance, Soldier. Where are you Ghosts holed up?” Rorke’s voice sounded more distant than it was.

“Fuck… you.” Keegan grunted, a deranged smile painted against his lips as blood slicked upon his teeth. Rorke chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

“Damn you Ghosts! Always so hard to break. But trust me, everyone has a breaking point. Even that little bird you have sleeping in your nest.” Rorke alluded to you, and it was enough for Keegan’s eyes to flare in anger.

“I think I’ll kill her last, she was always so weak.”

Keegan’s jaw clenched tightly, despite his numb body, he found courage to jolt forward, slamming his forehead into Rorke. The sound cracked across the cement walls, and while it sealed his fate, at least he got to hit the bastard one more time.

“Shouldn’t have done that, Russ.” Rorke growled, body swaying slightly before moving to the table designed for Keegan’s torture.

The Ghost’s eyes dropped to his lap, finally letting numbness take over as his eyes fluttered shut. Rorke’s footsteps approached, just as his large palm gripped upon Keegan’s neck, his pulse thumping dully. He tilted his head upwards, just as Keegan caught sight of the metallic syringe held in his opposite hand.

The fluid incased was a vibrant red, almost as if it was glowing. Yet, he didn’t seem to care as he slumped again, barely feeling the prick against his carotid artery. He’d hoped whatever he was being injected with would kill him. At least then he’d know you’d be safe and he wouldn’t have to keep up such a tough resolve.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, but if you won’t tell me where the Ghosts are, you’ll kill them for me.” His words had Keegan’s brow furrowing, but before he could even let his mind run, a blade entered between his ribs, plunging into his heart and killing him instantly.

It had been two days since you woke up in the med bay. Two days since Keegan was officially marked as M.I.A.

You exhaled, as you settled your mask over your nose, looking forward and nodding towards Merrick, who appeared grim on the other side of the chopper. It was obvious he didn’t like the idea of you out in the field with a freshly healed bullet wound, but Ghosts looked after each other and you’d be damned if you left any quadrant unturned. You’d find Keegan, if it was the last thing you did.

Your shoulder ached against the weight of your pack, but it didn’t stop you from heaving extra med packs. Merrick chewed upon his lip again, eyeing you warily. You couldn’t help but narrow your eyes. Remembering his conversation earlier of how you weren’t on your game, stating this rescue was too personal. You’d argued that this was Keegan.

A gentle palm landed on your uninjured shoulder, causing you to glance up again to see the former Seal staring down at you with uncharacteristically soft eyes.

“We’ll find him, I promise you that.”

You found yourself nodding, determination flaring in your very soul as you listened to Merrick give the rundown.

“We don’t have leeway to fly out until tomorrow, so conserve ammo and don’t get caught. We’ll split into quadrants. I’ll take West, Ajax cover North, Kick go South.”

That left you to East. Where Keegan was last seen. This was the quadrant you needed to be at, it would be the one with the most tracks.

“Speak limitedly. Remember we are in hostile territory.” Merrick sounded just as your feet hit the mossy ground with a plunk.

You nodded, before falling back into the dark wasteland of the forest. Crickets chirped against the overgrown roots and owls hooted from the shared branches. If it wasn’t for your situation, you’d definitely enjoy sitting upon a stump and listening to the sounds nature gave.

Light from the moon floated against the swaying leaves, although it definitely wasn’t enough to illuminate the way. With a click and a beep, you pulled your night vision gear down over your eyes.

It was eerily quiet, especially for a camp being only a couple hundred yards from your location. With a clenched jaw you pushed onwards, head on a swivel as you suppressed the queasy feeling from your gut.

You crouched under some brush when your eyes leveled with the small hunting cabin that the Federation soldiers were camped out at. Tents fluttered in the balmy breeze. It was disturbing, to see a camp with life and light now had none.

No lanterns, no fire, no electricity. Nothing.

That was definitely not what it was like two days ago. If anything, the federation soldiers were too easy to find. Loud and obnoxious as they drank alcohol and burnt their fires too high so smoke flew over the trees lines.

Now you heard nothing. Only the hoot of the owls and chirping crickets. It had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up straight.

With a little exhale, you crept onwards. Slowly inching to the corners of camp, where you maneuvered around several empty tents, the entrance flaps open and flowing in the breeze.

Your eyes followed a patch of trampled moss, something that indicated struggle. Your heart leapt at the clue, at least now you had a lead. You crouched, leveling with the path. It lead to the old cabin. Maybe, just maybe Keegan was there and licking his wounds.

A loud crack sounded in front of you, just beyond the wooden cabin and out into the forest. You already had your assault rifle pointed towards the noise, just as you began to advance.

It sounded of a broken twig, as if someone was discreetly spying upon your stalking form. Your back finally hit the wall of the cabin, before you hesitantly peaked around the corner. Your jaw clenched at the sight of four bodies all face down upon the moss.

Your heart dropped when you saw the familiar mask of a certain ghost, the material lay against the ground, torn.

“No,”

You dropped the rifle to the side of the wall without a second thought, rushing to the bodies, relieved when you saw the tuffs of blonde hair and unfamiliar clothes upon the three bodies. Blood dried in puddles, almost like a cushion. The color was a dark brown, they’ve been dead for a while. Your heart pounded as you approached the last body, dark hair cropped so much like Keegan’s— dark tactical gear as well.

The body was a few yards away from the others, moss upturned like someone had grappled with him before they fell. With shaky fingers you flipped the body over. You let out a watered gasp, relief wrapping you like a blanket when the glassy eyes staring back at you weren’t Keegans.

You studied the Soldier, noticing the dirt under his fingernails, the claw marks in the soil next to him made it seem like he was trying to crawl away. Then you noticed how little injuries this guy had. The other three had visible gunshot wounds, and as you looked closer you saw the smoky black shells of Keegan’s signature bullets.

This body, had no wounds. No bullet to the lungs or heart. You crouched lower, turning his face to the side.

You clenched your jaw when you caught the laceration upon his neck.

Teeth marks.

You stood quickly, turning to the side to where your rifle was resting against the side of the cabin.

It wasn’t there.

Instead a loud click echoed through the night, your mag falling to the dirt as you looked to the man who held upon your rifle. A man that should have been Keegan, if it wasn’t for the bright red eyes and crusted blood over his chin.

“Keegan?” You couldn’t help but whisper, nearly cringing when your words got caught in your throat. The man in front of you nodded, setting your rifle back in its original spot.

“How’s your wound?” He asked. You took a step backwards, upon seeing him advance slowly towards you. His eyes never leaving your wounded shoulder, where bandages still rested upon the flesh.

“What? Why haven’t you tried to radio us? I’ve been eating myself alive.” You wailed, attempting to ignore just how much your brain was telling you to run. Maybe the red in his eyes was simply an illusion, perhaps he popped a blood vessel.

The creature, Keegan held up a radio he fished from his pocket. You faintly made out the broken material from a couple yards away.

“Have you been here this whole time? You must be hungry?”

Keegan’s eyes dropped to the body near your feet, just as his gaze trailed up your own until they landed on your shoulder again. You swore his eyes grew darker as he bit on his lip.

“Yes I’m hungry.” He murmured.

Cautiously you took a step forward, observing the way his body stiffened and how he seemed to be holding his breath. His head tilted to the moss below, refusing to look you in your eyes.

As you grew closer your heart plunged deeper. His eyes were red, this wasn’t some illusion.

“What happened to you?”

Keegan peered down at you, his eyelashes sticking to his cheeks.

“I-I don’t know. I was captured. Tortured.” He huffed, taking a step back as he inhaled too strongly. He brought his hand up to his temples, rubbing furiously.

You gaped at him, how he escaped was beyond you, how he was standing with no visible injuries— it concerned you more than if he would have came back bloodied and bruised.

“I need to sit down, you’re too loud,” he growled. Faster than a blink, a literal blink Keegan disappeared from your view, only a shadow inside the cabin indicating he was crouched over a worn out sofa.

It was inhuman to move that fast. Still, you needed answers. You figured this wasn’t the most horrific thing you’ve faced as a soldier.

You were silent when you approached next, the only indication you were near was when a floorboard creaked from under your boots and the door clicked shut behind you. “Let me check for wounds.” You whispered, now more aware.

“I already did. All of them healed, as if I wasn’t tortured at all.”

Your hand flew to his shoulder at his defeated whine, so uncharacteristically like Keegan it scared you. His nose bumped against your wrist. He let out a deep inhale.

“I blacked out, woke up to a soldier guarding me in this house. He tried to run, but I killed him.” He wheezed.

“How’d you kill them?” You whispered into the dark room, knowing the answer, but wanting him to confirm it. Maybe he’d deny it, and you’d wake up from this horrifying nightmare.

Monsters didn’t exist. Vampires weren’t real. Still…..

“I-I bit his neck, I could hear his pulse, smell the blood. I…. Drank it.”

Your breathing picked up, something that Keegan picked up on immediately. He was up from the couch in a flash, cool palms laying upon your cheeks as he pleaded.

“I couldn’t help it! Something happened to me, Rorke he injected me with this drug, made me like this. He said I would kill you. All of the Ghosts.”

Your hands wrapped upon his wrists, eyes wide as you listened to his begging. This thing, it sounded like your Keegan, maybe with proper help he could be saved. Maybe.

“Do you… want to kill me?” You asked, glancing upwards as you saw his throat bob. Immediately he shook his head, red eyes boring into you as his fingertips pushed against your pulse.

“No. I love you too much to consider.” He vowed, hands reaching ever so gently down your sides in an unconscious practice, something he did so frequently in the confines of your quarters.

“But God, you smell so good.” He whined again, nose falling ever so gently to your thrumming pulse point. You were ashamed at how quickly heat rushed to your core. He was some type of monster now, yet, still you felt the sudden need to be with him.

A monster in a cabin, how ironically cliche.

As if to make matters worse, you felt his intake of breath, just as his fingertips dug hard into your hips, like he was anchoring himself to you.

It was wrong, definitely not morally correct to lean closer towards him. To smell his scent of hickory smoke and twang of blood. Still, you couldn’t help but lose yourself in the feel of him. He was still your Keegan, and maybe you could make adjustments of his situation as you went.

A low hiss alerted you to just how uncomfortable he must be. Whatever he was, a lust for blood made him dangerous. And here you were baiting him like a worm on a hook, ready to be swallowed whole.

“I need you…” he growled against the nape of your neck again, heat swelled to your stomach. You weren’t sure if he needed your blood or you, maybe he wanted both.

Without so much as a second, you let your mouth speak before your brain could keep up. “Then take me.”

It happened in a whirl, so fast that you didn’t even register that your head was perched against the soft plush of the old sofa. His hands were on you, one attached to your hip while the other cradled the back of your neck.

You gasped at your new position, yet Keegan seemed to care less as he maneuvered your head to his, lips hungrily falling to your own in desperation. He was never one to act so brash, always taking time to kiss you and prep you. Now, he seemed to let those morals fly out the window.

His mouth was warm against your own, his lips slotting hard enough to leave your own swelling and full. Once out of your dazed position, you reached upwards, going to wrap your arms around his torso to pull him ever so tight.

Then you heard the rip.

A slow whimper left your mouth as Keegan hesitated to pull away. Your hand reached for your shoulder, your thumb brushed against the damp liquid of your own blood.

Instantly you grew rigid at the red color, your guilty gaze finding that Keegan was already glancing at the blood pooled on your thumb. His eyes screwed shut, even though his hands were working at the harness and buckles of your pants. Likely, he was trying to keep himself busy, away from the surely pungent tang of your blood.

“Breaking my heart, doll.” Keegan muttered through hesitant inhales, as if he was getting used to the scent. “I’m sorry, I pulled on the stitches.” You muttered, slightly unconscious of your opposite hand trailing upon his pleasantly cool chest.

His head shook, knowing it wasn’t your fault that you had obtained the gunshot wound. It was his, he was supposed to protect you, as he was right now. As he always would, regardless of the sweet and irresistible scent of your blood.

“It’s not your fault. But my senses are stronger. I see things I never saw, feel things more intricately, smell things more intoxicating.”

He brought your thumb to his lips, the heat of his tongue sucking upon the drop of blood on the fingertip, “taste things that’s never been so sweet.”

He dropped your hand with delicate care, strange for his new form that reeked of destruction. You peered up at him through your eyelashes, biting down upon your lip as he sniffed the air again.

“I can smell your arousal, ya know?” He teased, a toothy grin revealing slightly sharper teeth— fangs. Your face grew red with embarrassment, as you typically did with Keegan’s bold behavior in the bedroom.

“So are you just going to smell it, or are you going to help me?” You whined, your arousal only soaring as Keegan tugged upon the waistband of your pants and pulled them off your legs in one fluid motion.

“Oh, doll. I can’t wait to taste you.” His hunger radiated around him in waves, even with the balmy night air in the barely lit cabin, you found yourself shivering. Shivering as he lowered himself down further upon the couch, placing teasingly slow kisses upon each of your hip bones. His hands trailed down your bare legs, the callouses of his palms scraping pleasantly down to your knees.

Your thighs were lifted, now prettily perched upon his broad shoulders. He’d had the audacity to look at you through red hooded eyes, burning a hole into your very soul as his fingertips traced patterns on your warm flesh.

Your breath hitched when he tilted his chin down, his nose brushing teasingly against the swelling bud of your clit. Then, a curse flew from your mouth as he licked a stripe against your cunt.

He was purring, a happy hum leaving his throat as he kissed gently upon your opening. Your head flew back against the velvet cushion of the couch, hands gripping for anything that would anchor you back to the earth.

The floating feeling only increased as his lips suctioned around your clit, a lewd slurping noise filling the air.

A hand went to his hair, the soft midnight tuffs more outgrown than he usually liked. His palm pushed you down further against his lips, the feeling he brought you was much alike electricity— Alive, breathless, euphoric.

His other hand drifted down your thigh, the rough pads of his fingertips providing a beautiful contract that always drove you over the edge. So much blood on his hands, on his ledger, and yet he loved you so well.

The gentle push of his finger against your entrance had you moaning, the breach being enough to have the knot in your stomach pull taut. You wouldnt last long at the pace he was going, and judging by the smile printed against your inner thigh, Keegan knew it as well.

“You taste better than I remember, God.” He whined as if you were pleasuring him instead, his finger still worked in tangent, slick echoing against the skin in a dirty symphony. He added another, curling the digits against your walls just as he dove back in, flicking his tongue upon your overstimulated clit.

You clutched onto his head as you released against him, a slight growl falling from his lips as you echoed his name into the night. His fingers slipped from you with a pop, and just when you thought he would resurface, his lips parted again, falling to your opening. His tongue pushed into you, swirling heavenly as he lapped up all of your previous orgasm.

The sensation made you see stars, but he became ever so aware of what you wanted now. Your fingers clutched onto the collar of his ripped long sleeve, the material accenting his rippling biceps and chest nicely, yet you wanted nothing but to take it off. Keegan granted the silent command, pulling away from your weeping cunt and shimmying out of his pants and pulling his shirt over his head. You found yourself taking off your vest and shirt as well.

He leant over you like a sinner, praying to his God. His knees dropped to the far end of the sofa, just so his weight hovered over the top of you like a longing shadow, desperate to touch the object it always followed. His eyes were round and lusting as they took you in. You did the same.

He was beautiful. The moon overcasting his back and showcasing the upturnt scars and hardships in a milky glow. He was effortlessly strong, effortlessly comforting, and effortlessly eternal all in one. Your hand trailed down the soft curves of his chest, to his stomach. Goosebumps following after your fingers, as your nails scratched against the fine muscle of his abdomen.

Your hand flowed down his body like a gentle wave, when finally you reached his cock. He was painfully erect, the head of him leaking a fair amount of pre-cum. You chuckled silently into the night— as if you needed more slick, You’d swallow him whole, as you always did.

Your thumb brushed against his slit, massaging the cum down his shaft in a painfully slow motion that had him yelping desperately. His stubbled cheek once again found the slot between your shoulder, the tough hairs scratching pleasantly against your neck.

You pumped him, the sheer size of the ghost was always a surprise to you. His cock was lengthy and thick, no matter how much he attempted to warm you up, he still burrowed and stretched your walls to the maximum. Oh, how you loved it.

He held his breath as you lined him up to your entrance, not before brushing his head to gather the most of your slick.

“Ready?” He asked through a barely contained growl.

“Fuck me…” you murmured through a lustful stupor, finding yourself entrapped in his crimson stare as he angled his upper body above you. His arms caged by your head, meeting with your eyes he plunged into you, a slow hiss fell from his lips as he breached ever so slowly. Your own eyes fluttered at the sudden fullness he provided you with.

His head flew back as he whined, likely his unwavering control slipping inch by inch. Steadily you pulled his chin to your face and attached your lips again, providing a heavenly distraction as you tasted yourself upon his tongue.

He sheathed himself into you, biting upon your lip gently as he felt your walls flutter around him.

“So warm, doll.” He pulled away slightly to praise. Your stomach fluttered at his words, you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, nearly whimpering when he pulled halfway out of your cunt.

He was ruthless as he slammed back down, making the breath fall out of your lungs in a violent symphony. He set the pace roughly, making you release a series of moans and pleads of his name.

His hands were everywhere all at once. His palms hiked upward on your thighs, pushing you into him while you subconsciously wrapped them around his hips in a constricted and possessive grip. The other flew to your breasts, kneading the flesh in a harsh hold. His fingertips pinched upon the hardening bud of your nipple, making you release a satisfied gasp.

“Keegan…. Please.” You didn’t know why you were begging, he was giving you everything you needed. He rutted particularly deep at your plead, digging himself deeper into the warmth he so desperately craved. He wanted to be a part of you, to feel you so closely and to pleasure your every cell.

“Fuckin’ hell sweetheart.” He cursed, looking down upon your flustered cheeks and panting lips. You fluttered around him again, making him lose all since of control he had before.

“I don’t know how much more I can take of you, I need it.” His panicked whine was enough for you to fall over the edge, his hips slapping into you at such a frantic pace it had you seeing stars.

He wasn’t going to stop. And you didn’t want him to. You knew what he needed, and you’d give it to him. Willingly and with open arms.

“Then take it.” You whimpered into the night air, watching his pupils blow and his thrusts to go even deeper. His little whine of protest was put to an end as his lips kissed gently upon your pulse point. His looming body caging you from squirming.

He didn’t stop his sloppy thrusting, even when he placed torturous open-mouthed kisses all down the soft flesh of your neck, until his tongue lapped gently against the thrumming pulse of your artery.

It pinched when his sharp fang-like teeth bit into your skin, yet the cooling nature of his tongue and lips pulled you to ecstasy. You clenched around him, having no time to warn him of your rapid orgasm until your legs wrapped around him tighter, your walls clenching his cock so tight his body was soon to follow you.

He was definitely in a nirvana-like state, his lips still suckling gently upon the sweet taste of your blood, his throat bobbing gently as he drank upon your life. His eyes were clenched shut as he rutted impossibly deep, hitting the very cup of your womb as he stilled.

He pulled away from your neck with a tough resolve, wanting more but knowing he couldn’t have it. Instead he focused on his earth-shattering orgasm, how his cock twitched inside you and released ropes of hot seed. He’d never felt so euphoric.

You laid limp under him, eyes flooded in darkness as you lazily looked to the blood slowly trailing down his chin. Your own blood.

Keegan collapsed, not even daring to pull his softening cock out of you quite yet. His weight was comforting, and as your fingers trailed to his chin, you collected the blood there, pushing it gently against his lips until he sucked the nectar off your fingertip with a satisfied hum.

Laying on this old couch in an abandoned cabin wasn’t ideal. And neither was the monster above you.

But you’d love him until your last breath. Even if Keegan happened to cause it.

#whew #news flash I still don’t know how to end smut #I want a vampire to bite me guys #cod #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #keegan russ #Keegan p Russ #keegan russ x reader #vampire AU

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broomsick · 14 days

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Holy spaces & shrines in the modern norse path

Before we dive into the oh-so-diverse topic of holy spaces, let me first specify a few practical tips!

I’m very much aware that the definition of the term “holy” is deeply subjective and varies depending on one’s opinions. I’ll elaborate on a few of my thoughts on the topic further!

In no way are you bound by any rule regarding this aspect of paganism.

I will base my post off of my research, granted, but also on my personal experiences and practices!

Now, what makes a holy space sacred? Not necessarily "holy" per say, but simply sacred.

The very first factor to consider is, what is sacredness? Lots and lots of pagans engage mostly in solitary practice, so much is true. Which is why lots of us find ourselves gravitating towards spaces others may not necessarily find any sense of "sacredness" in. The corner of your room where you tend to pray the most? Sacred. Or the spot in your garden where you perform your harvest ritual every year! It’s the connection we feel to the space that makes it sacred in the first place. But a space being holy depends on whether or not we choose to anoint it in such a way.

When something is sacred to me, I tend to feel a sort of spiritual pull. A swelling of the heart, if you will, like the feeling I get when faced with a breathtaking landscape. The feeling of spiritual connection to a particular spot is the first intuition one needs to tune into when choosing a holy space. After all, staying in tune with one's intuition might be one of the most important aspect of any spiritual practice.

Within nordic practice, a holy space is often called vé, a sacred enclosure. Vé's are attested in numerous toponyms as well as ancient texts, such as Beowulf, or the Skáldskaparmál. Their omnipresence in Scandinavian toponyms might, when considered through a pagan lense, signify something quite interesting: the holiness of a space depends on the space itself, its location, rather than what's inside it— or rather, how grand and ornate it is. When building a holy space for oneself, one does not need lavish decoration, or an elaborate shrine with the gold foil and the statues.

However, there are a few steps one can follow in order to anoint a space as holy, if one wants to reconstruct a few practices from pre-Christian Scandinavia. Although I'll specify that as always, no rule is set in stone when it comes to neopaganism. The choice to abide by them or not is entirely up to the practitioner. And in any case, even as I was gathering these few ideas, it was clear that, as always, pre-Christian practices centered around holy spaces vastly differed depending on the place and the time. Regardless, I think it's fun to do some research on the topic in order to reconstruct on our own terms a holy space in the nordic tradition.

The first step? Having a good knowledge of your area. Both before and during the Viking Age, holy places were more often than not located outside. It can be a great help to know where to find the greenery in one's area. Is there a beach near home that the public has access to? How about a large park where you can spend some time alone without being bothered? Even your backyard does the trick! Anywhere you can see the sky and breathe the open air is already perfect. Now, the Germanic tribes would generally worship near an object of particular importance, such as a grove, a body of water, a clearing in the forest, a hill... Although this doesn't seem to be very present in historical attestations, and considering I'm devoted to Yngvi-Freyr, I'm an especially big fan of worshipping in plains, or fields!

I think it's important for me to note that if you are lucky enough to live near a body of water, you can choose to engage in one of the most popular forms of offering in nordic historical practice: throwing offerings out to sink into the water! This practice was especially widespread, evidence of it having been found as far as Britain and Iceland. Evidently, if one chooses to engage in such a practice, it's important to respect the ecosystems and stick with offerings that won't damage them (acorns, stones, flowers and the like). As for an outdoors shrine located in a forest, or near woodland, it would have been customary during pre-Christian times to center a holy space around a tall tree, perhaps representing the World Tree Yggdrasil.

Considering lots of neo-pagans prefer to keep their practice discreet, it goes without saying that the holy space of your choosing does not need to be especially big, nor especially decorated. It can be as small as it is humble! One of the spaces where I most like to worship is the little corner of the yard, tucked under a cedar tree, where I rebuild my hörgr every year, as soon as the snow melts for good. Nothing too flamboyant!

Now, the second step to building a little outdoors shrine for yourself is to choose a representation of the deity to adore. It's said that the human-like appearance of this representation mattered little to the Germanic tribes, whose representations of the Gods could be rather simple, and not especially ornate. For this reason, it would be perfectly logical to even choose an object associated with the deity in question to serve as the main representation placed in the sanctuary. If we're talking about Freyja, a falcon statuette, or feather could do the trick! As for Fenrir, any wolf imagery could work as well! In the case of Thórr, one could replicate the case of Donar's Oak and choose to center their shrine around a particular tree (the rowan are the oak would make the best choices, if one is to pick a tree sacred to Thórr). These are just examples, and the possibilities in this regard are limitless. This "main" representation can be used as the center of your sacred space, and given offerings during rituals or celebrations. In my case, I like greet this representation both when "entering" the sacred space and when leaving it, as a sign of respect!

If one so desires, it's possible to set up some kind of "delimitation" in order to mark the entrance of the sacred space, or its outline. I like to place either ribbons on nearby branches, or litter stones here and there to lie in a loose circle (we wouldn't want to block the rays of the sun from reaching the earth and keep the greenery from growing). In order to signal the entrance of shrines, the Germanic tribes would generally use heaps of dirt or pillars of stone, among other things.

Another intresting element one might include in their sacred space is the presence of fire! Whether this be a bonfire, incense, a simple candle or even just a handful of ash, there's lots of ways to include the "element" of fire into a modern day shrine. It's a means of warming up the space, so to speak: tending a fire in the shrine is akin to having a hearth in the home!

Ideas for common, historically attested offerings: Ethically-sourced animal bones, gold or golden jewelry, tools, representation of the Gods, beads and beaded jewelry, alcohol, food and meat…

Now, let's pull away from the history lesson and let's dive into modern, neo-pagan practice! I'd wager some of you are wondering, how exactly can one keep a whole shrine, but make their practice as low-key as possible?! After all, I know firsthand that solo practice is especially common among neo-pagans. So my answer to this question is, who said anything about keeping? One piece of advice I've already given to a few fellow pagans in the past is to create a little portable shrine all to yourself! Let me explain myself: you arrive at your chosen location, you put down a basket full of decoration and you put up a temporary space in which to worship for an hour or two. You take out a deity representation, a few candles (if they're allowed on site!), a handful of offerings and a cloth on which to place them. And when you're done with the ritual, you pack up your things and make sure you leave the site as clean as when you first found it. In other words, what I’m suggesting is the possibility of gathering a few designated worship items in order to make oneself a portable, personal little shrine! It might seem like a silly idea at first, but I’ve discovered it’s not only a fun habit, but it’s also greatly helpful on a tight schedule to have a quick and easy way to engage in outdoors practice.

As always, I wrote this post aiming to help fellow pagans find ways to balance historical practice and modern, solo practice! I hope these few ideas did the trick, and wish you all a good and plentiful spring season!

First picture

#heathenry #norse paganism #spirituality #norse gods #polytheism #deities #deity work #paganism #pagan #norse polytheism #history

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042502 · 3 days

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Little Kiss // M. Sturniolo x Reader.

SYNOPSIS: Trouble in paradise, don't worry, your lover Matt will give you a good time so you can forget your husband.

WARNINGS: Infidelity, married reader, manipulative Matt, obscene language, juicy sex, lovers, among others

NOTES: My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :)

MASTERLIST!!

"Bye Emmett."

and hung up. She covered her face with her hands, embarrassed by the fact that Matt saw her crying and just cried silently. When suddenly he felt Matt's hands on his face, removing his own. You didn't make any effort and when he looked ahead, you meet Matt's eyes that were looking at her with concern.

"Dont cry please. He doesn't deserve your tears" he mentions, as he ran his thumb over his cheeks, wiping away the tears.

"Take me Home. Please" she asked.

Matt opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again. He shook his head and nodded.

"Okay. Let's go."

It had been two days since you last spoke to Emmett. And although with each passing day she felt even more hurt by the fact that he had been unfaithful to her, He couldn't deny that he was partly grateful that he was away from her. This way I could spend more time with Matt and enjoy his company.

Matt was smiling as he watched you cook. Yes, she could definitely be the perfect wife. Today he was with her. Since you invited him to lunch at your house, he didn't think twice and went.

"May I help you?" Matt asked, intending to help.

"Yes. You can set the table, I'll finish preparing lunch here."

Matt nodded and disappeared into the main dining room. Some time later, they were both having lunch together and enjoying a pleasant conversation.

When your cell phone started ringing and you stood up to answer it somewhere else, Matt took the moment to get up and walk around the house. He entered a room which he deduced was where you slept. She frowned when she saw a double bed. An image of you with a man who would be Emmett making love came to mind. Without meaning to, Matt growled loudly. His jaw was tense. He shook his head and an image of you sleeping in bed, alone and suffering from your husband's deception flashed through his mind. He clenched his fists. How she wanted to take Emmett's place, to let him know she wasn't alone, and to be able to make love to him again and again...

A ray of light came straight into his eyes when he tried to take a step, and only then did he realize that in the same room there was another door that gave access to some other room. The door was ajar and when he entered, his jaw dropped. It was your painting studio. There were paintings everywhere, some hanging, while others on the tables. Brushes and paints were on the floor. Everything was messy, but the paintings gave joy to the place.

Suddenly, he heard the door close. Matt turned around and saw you leaning against the door.

"I finally find you" walking towards him. "What are you doing?"

"I was just looking at your paintings" as he turned his gaze towards the paintings. "They are great."

"Thank you. The only thing I hope is that they are good enough to win the contest." smiled.

"They are. Believe me, I have faith that you will win.

Matt looked at her and took the moment to study her profile. His lips were parted and he had an immense desire to eat her with kisses. Biting his lip, Matt tried to control the urge to kiss you again, but he just couldn't and against his will, he found himself reaching out towards you, framing tentatively. You watch him and realizing his intention, you instinctively step back.

"No" you responded. "I'm married."

He growled.

"I swear if I hear you say that one more time I will fuck you without mercy and I won't care what you say."

Your face turned pale. A cloud of lust passed through Matt's eyes.

"You would not dare" you stutter.

"Of course" smiled wickedly. "But now, I want you to do me a favor."

"Which?"

"I would like you to make a portrait of me"

You bite your lip, and unconsciously, your eyes roam over Matt's body from head to toe.

"Do you want me to draw you?" you ask, staring at his shirt that hid killer abs underneath.

"Yes. I think you could make a good portrait of me" He smiled and for a moment you felt seduced by his smile.

"Mmh... Ok. I will try to draw you."

You walked over to the windows and pulled the curtains aside to let the light flood into the room. Then he moved an armchair, somewhat worn, and placed it in the middle of the room.

"Sit here" You point your finger at him.

Matt obeyed and sat where you indicated. While I tied your hair in a ponytail, you walk and take out your easel that was leaning in the corner to position it in front of Matt, far enough from him to see him clearly. You take out all your paints and a new canvas to set out to paint. Once ready, you look up and meet Matt's eyes looking at you carefully.

"Place your elbow on the edge of the chair and lean firmly on the backrest."

Matt obeyed.. You frown.

"Adjust your hair well to one side."

"Thus?" asked, running a hand through his hair and ruffling it.

"No" You shook your head. Then you walk until you are in front of him and bend down a little to sink your fingers into his hair and comb it. Closing the eyes, Matt hissed in pleasure and enjoyed the sensation of being caressed by your soft hands. She wondered where else on his body she could touch him, but quickly pushed that thought out of her mind. You remove your hands from his hair and for a split second Matt had the impulse to ask you not to stop touching him. "Just like that" you whisper "Do not move."

You move away to resume your previous posture. Matt’s eyes followed you. Raising one hand, slide the brush over the canvas and start painting. Matt reached out and rested his hand on her chin, rhythmically stroking her bottom lip with his index finger. You frown at him.

"Don't do that. It distracts me."

Matt's lips trembled and you knew he was fighting the urge to smile, but he finally caught himself and lowered his hand from his lips.

Some time later, you were almost finished. It was dusk, and the light was coming straight at Matt from the window, illuminating his handsome face.

"I'm almost done" she spoke, looking up to see him. "Aren't you bored?"

"Baby, I could stay here all day watching you."

You blush, and then return your eyes to the canvas to finish the painting. Ten minutes later, you sigh contentedly and set the brush aside, stepping back a little and admiring your painting approvingly.

"I've finished now" still with his eyes fixed on the painting. Matt got up from the couch and walked over.

"It turned out great on you" He reached out towards the painting, intending to touch it, but quickly pulled it back when you knocked. "Ow! What?"

"Do not touch her. The paint is still fresh" You glare at him.

He snorted. You are laughing.

"I'm sorry, I just don't want it to get ruined." you smile. A smile so damn perfect it made even Matt cringe.

Matt locked his eyes on your lips, for like the umpteenth time that day. They tempted him.

"All I want is to kiss you" admitted. "Is it too much to ask?"

"For a married woman it is."

"But he cheated on you."

"I know. But please don't repeat it to me again." you ask and suddenly your voice broke. "It hurts me to hear it."

"I'm sorry" He apologized. "It's just that I'm jealous. You don't know how much I envy your husband having these lips just for him." He reached out his hand and caressed your lip with his thumb. You smacked your lips and Matt moaned. "Baby, wouldn't you be able to share, even for a second, these lips with me?"

You look it. You wanted to kiss him too. Very much.

"Alright. But just a small kiss" You agree, suddenly blushing.

"A little kiss" he repeated. "That was enough for me."

And before you could speak again, Matt leaned in and kissed you. You close your eyes and receive the kiss by wrapping your arms around his neck. Matt grunted as your tongue caressed his, and unconsciously, he found himself clinging closer to him and kissing her desperately.

Matt's lips never left yours as he began to walk, forcing you to back away and fall into the chair where he was sitting seconds ago. You straddle him and break the kiss, moaning as Matt's hands slide to your ass and squeeze it, bringing you closer to his hard erection. And damn, how much it turned him on to have you on top of him, with your sexes rubbing against each other.

"Oh, shit" Matt growled.. "If you make me that hard with a simple kiss, I don't want to imagine what it will be like when I fuck you."

And he kissed you again. Your hands moved down to his chest and you heard Matt moan as you caressed him, cinching each of his muscles. He was very strong, and as you kissed him, you wondered how hard he could move if you had him inside you.

Matt's hands slowly moved up from your hips to your waist, framing each of your curves. He felt you shudder as he went up and he liked that.

"Do you like me touching you, sweet honey?" he asked with a rough voice.

You moan in response as his hands rested on your breasts, each hand on each breast. He caressed them over the fabric of your shirt and your nipples reacted instantly, hardening. You throw your head back, enjoying his touch and suddenly doubt arose within you. Were you doing the right thing by subjecting yourself to this? Would you be capable of being unfaithful to your husband?

Only then when Matt's hand slipped under your shirt were you able to react and you placed both hands on Matt's shoulders, pushing him away from you.

"Fuck, Matt, It was supposed to be just a little kiss..."

"It's not my fault you make me like this. Come on, I know you want it just like I do."

"I can not do it, im sorry." He tried to lift me up, but Matt stopped me by firmly grabbing my hips.

"Why not?"

"I am married."

Suddenly, a fury flashed through Matt's eyes that you had never seen before and it scared you. You stand up, but quickly find yourself trapped by Matt's arms that kept you cornered between the wall of the room and his body. Swallowing, you look up, meeting Matt's eyes staring at you with an anger that froze you.

"I'm sick of hearing that damn excuse" he complains through clenched teeth "Understand, your husband does not love you. If he really loved you he should never have been unfaithful to you."

Bile rose in your throat as you heard his cold words. You swallow, in a failed attempt to untie the knot that had formed in you.

"That is not true." you murmured "He loves me."

"No!" He slammed his fist into the wall, right on the side of your head. You startle. "Answer to me, Has he called you again?"

You shake your head, unable to articulate any words.

"You see it, If he really cared about you, he should already be here with you, and not on his fucking business trip. He does not love you."

Your eyes watered. You purse your lips, trying not to burst into tears, but before you could think clearly, you found yourself throwing yourself into Matt's arms and crying into his shoulder. Matt rubbed your back, and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, still not letting go.

"You're right, Matt" you cry. "I'm a stupid. It's the truth, he doesn't love me. Oh, Why did this happen to me? Am I that bad of a wife?"

"Don't say that, you... you are perfect. You are not to blame for anything, it is your husband who is the idiot. you're just in love..."

You pull away from him a little, enough to look him in the eyes. Your eyes were filled with tears and Matt's heart sank.

"Please make me forget it. Help me forget it."

And that was just what Matt wanted to hear. A smile formed on his lips.

"Baby, I'll make you forget it and much more than that." He grabbed your chin and brought his lips closer. "I'll make you enjoy it as much as I do."

And he kissed you again with the same desperation as always.

You sigh as Matt set you down on the bed and started kissing his neck. Raising his hands to your neck, he buries his fingers in your hair and clenches his hands into fists, caressing him in a way that makes him moan with pleasure. Matt moved away a little and kissed you with a demand that left you breathless, while Matt's hands went down and unbuttoned the buttons of your shirt in an agile movement, one by one. He licked his lips as his eyes focused on a pretty white bra, which hugged and hid large breasts. Unable to take it anymore, Matt slid his hands behind your back to unhook her bra and capture one of her breasts with his mouth. You close your eyes, moaning and throwing your head back.

"You are so beautiful, sweet honey." his hot breath hitting her hardened nipple. "You drive Me crazy."

He said it in such an intimate way that it made her moan with pleasure, asking for more. You lower your hands to Matt's hips and grab the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off of him to reveal his torso. You rest your hands on it, each hand on each shoulder and you go down slowly, caressing. Matt's muscles tensed.

"Jesus ." he moaned. "I would like to know what other things your hands are used for besides painting..."

You smile at him and bite your lip, then undo his belt buckle and unzip his pants. You gasp when you see his huge erection, covered by the thin fabric of his boxers. Tentatively, you reach out to touch him and the moment your fingers brushed against his erection, he groaned.

"Baby, I really wish you could do that again, but this time without anything in the way."

You laugh and Matt sighs as you yank his boxers down, freeing his member. You gasp again. How could you describe it? His erection was imposing, demonstrating masculinity and authority in any direction he pointed. With your index finger, you touch the tip of his penis and hear him grunt. Then you take it with a closed fist and begin to, very slowly, slide it up and down, along its entire length. Matt parted his lips, moaning.

Matt looked down and watched as your small hands masturbated him. You increase speed. He growled loudly and with eyes dark with lust, he watched as you smiled and leaned over. Matt pulled away instantly, gasping.

"No. If you suck me, I'll end up cumming and I don't want to do it without you." I confess to you with a hoarse voice.

And he kissed you again. Closing your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss and pulled you closer to him. It was a demanding and wild kiss, showing him how much he wanted you.

Suddenly, a noise. Someone was calling the house phone. Matt growled against your lips.

"ignore it." Matt ordered.

You nod and kiss him again, while the phone didn't stop ringing. Oh, What did that man have that every time you kissed him, he made you forget everything.

The phone stopped ringing, but it didn't take long for the answering machine to answer.... and Emmett's voice will be heard.

"Dear. I can't wait to see you again, I have so many things to tell you" sigh. "Anyway, I just wanted to remind you that I'll be back home next week. Don't forget that I love you despite everything... goodbye."

Matt stepped away from you and stood up abruptly. She looked. His teeth were so clenched that you were even afraid he would hurt himself.

"Do not believe him" his voice comes soft from his lips. "Please don't believe him."

"I already told you that I don't care about Emmett. He is the one I want and need right now."

Matt looked at you, his eyes shining with something that looked like joy.

"Really?"

"Yes. Now come here and show me when you want me."

He kissed you once again, testing with his own tongue the characteristic flavor of your mouth that every time he tried it, he felt that it drove him more and more crazy. Pulling away from you a little, Matt placed his hands on your hips and pulled your jeans down, out of his sight. I look at you. She looked beautiful with only the thong on.

"You have a beautiful legs." He flattered you, sliding his hand up your thigh, up and down, and so on.

Shivers ran through you as you closed your eyes and let yourself be carried away by the sensation of being caressed by Matt's warm hands. Only then do you open them when you feel Matt start to pull down your panties. You look down, meeting Matt's lustful eyes.

"I love you so much" he whispered eagerly. "I'll fuck you until you can't stand up."

Matt caressed your thighs once more. He placed his hands on your hips.

"Open your legs..."

You obey instantly. Matt positioned himself in the middle of them, his erection rubbing against the entrance to your vagina. Your mouth opened in a perfect 'o' when Matt thrust in suddenly, and instinctively, you arched your hips. He parted his lips, remaining still inside you.

"You have a delicious pussy." Matt growled. "Someday I'll try it with my own mouth."

You moan and very slowly, Matt began to move. He groaned as your tight pussy enveloped him, hugging him around him.

"Shit" Matt moaned. "I'm crazy about you."

Matt looked down and watched the exciting scene of his member disappearing into your pussy as he pushed deeper into you. An expression of pleasure appeared on your face and you ran a hand over your forehead, in an attempt to remove the excess sweat. He leaned down and kissed you, then buried his nose in your hair and inhaled.

"You smell so good." Matt sighed, letting the scent take over. "Roses and jasmine."

Grabbing your thighs, Matt sank completely into you. You scream, not caring how it sounded and dig your nails into Matt's arms. Narrowing his eyes, he hissed in pleasure.

"Faster" you ask. "Please, I need it."

Matt growled and increased the speed of his attacks. His hips moved from front to back, in the same rhythm that made you go crazy. The bed creaked and hit violently against the wall of the room. And Matt couldn't help but roar out loud, when he felt you tighten your grip around him.

"That's it baby" He moaned, feeling how your wet flesh began to hug his penis tightly. "cum for me..."

You came instantly, saying Matt's name in a scream that echoed in his ears. Closing his eyes, Matt threw his head back and growled once more.

Matt collapsed on top of you, his nose buried in your hair and breathing heavily into your ear. He moved and lay down next to you. She turned her head and looked at you, caressing your cheek with a strange tenderness that touched you.

"Your husband is a lucky man. I envy him." admitted.

"Please, I don't want to talk about him right now. I just want to think about you right now."

You snuggled into his side, resting your head on his bicep and closed your eyes. Matt put his arms around your waist and placed a soft He kissed your forehead, and then brought you even closer to him and fell into a very deep sleep.

NOTES: Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^ If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment!

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worflesbian · 9 months

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Klingons & Racialisation - the Long Post

This post is an overview of the racial coding of the Klingons from their first appearance to the present day, illustrated by quotes from Trek writers, actors and crew members taken from the Memory Alpha article Depicting Klingons, with my own interjected summaries and explanations. It is by no means comprehensive (I likely missed some stuff), and does not offer critical analysis of the quotes provided, but nonetheless is intended to demonstrate irreproachably the open fact that Klingons have always been intentionally written and designed as non-white -- something that fandom consistently fails to take into account when perpetuating racist stereotypes and reiterating racist canon content. I recommend reading the whole article for a more in-depth understanding of the subject, as well as seeking out the existing writing of fans of colour. This post is primarily for reference purposes so I've tried to limit my own analysis and opinions, but I do post those in my Klingon tag as well as more general headcanons and worldbuilding and I'm happy to answer any (good faith) questions this post may raise.

As always, if I have overstepped in any way as a white fan in making this post, I am grateful to be informed and will make any required changes.

Content warning for outdated and offensive language under the cut.

The Original Series

"There is some suggestion that the Klingons represent a Cold Warrior's view of China in the 1960s – swarthy, brutally repressive." (Star Trek Magazine issue 153, p. 66) "And I think he was basing a lot of it on the kind of attitude of the Japanese in World War II...." ("Errand of Mercy" Starfleet Access, TOS Season 1 Blu-ray) The script of "Errand of Mercy" introduces the Klingon look by saying, "We see the Klingons are Orientals," "Spray my hair black, give me a kind of swamp creature green olivey mud reptilian make-up, and we'll borrow some stuff from Fu Manchu, and put a long moustache and eyebrows on me." ("The Sword of Colicos", Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - The Official Poster Magazine, No. 8) "I think the makeup was called 'Mexican #1 or #2.' That was the name of the original makeup foundation – they actually had kind of racist names at the time, like 'Negro #1' and 'Mexican #2' – which was the basis for the original Star Trek makeups." (Star Trek Magazine issue 172, p. 59) "In the original series, all they wore was a dark face and their black hair," Michael Westmore observed. ("Michael Westmore's Aliens: Season Two", DS9 Season 2 DVD special features) The Klingons' appearance changed within the original Star Trek series; although dark makeup and heavy eyebrows were the norm, the Klingons of "The Trouble with Tribbles" were much lighter-skinned and more Human-like in appearance.... He noticed that they are not only less like Mongol warriors by having less of a swarthy appearance but also by being slightly not as fierce... ("The Trouble with Tribbles" Starfleet Access, TOS Season 2 Blu-ray) "...they were meant to represent the Communist foes of the United States specifically during the Vietnam War, which was being controversially fought at that time. (Star Trek: The Original Series 365, p. 222) "...let us never set up a situation whereby those adversaries of ours [Klingons] give any indication of ever being anything but highly aggressive and self-seeking opponents." (These Are the Voyages: TOS Season Three)

Here it is explicitly stated that the Klingons were based on various Asian cultures, with the USSR also being mentioned heavily in the article. This influence and the use of "yellowface" is covered more comprehensively in this youtube video Klingons & The History Of Racial Coding. However, the video has some notable gaps which I hope to cover in this post.

Post-TOS (movies)

The Star Trek III portrayal of Klingons took inspiration from Japanese history. "Harve [Bennett] had the notion that the Klingons were like Samurai warriors," explained linguist Marc Okrand. (Star Trek: Communicator issue 114, p. 27) Robert Fletcher agreed with Bennett, later saying of the Klingons, "I always liked to think of them as authoritarian, almost feudal, like Japan had been." (The Making of the Trek Films, UK 3rd ed., p. 52) Regarding the make-up, Michael Westmore observed, "Until now, Klingons were brown. Some had a bony ridge running down the middle of their foreheads, long black wigs and facial hair." (Star Trek: The Next Generation Makeup FX Journal, p. 28) "I thought it was an ideal way for us to have our closure too, because the Klingons for us have always been the Communist Block, the Evil Empire. It just made sense to do that story." (The Making of the Trek Films, UK 3rd ed., p. 100) "Gene was really bothered by the Klingons in VI [....] [They] were, in his words, 'too civilized, too decent, too much of the good guys in the story.' [....] [The Klingon detente] was not the way Gene would have handled it. He would have reversed it, he would have had the Klingons being the ones who couldn't handle the peace, with the Federation saying, 'Come on, let's try and work this out.'" (Star Trek Movie Memories, hardback ed., p. 289) "The story never explored the Klingon culture the way I'd hoped it would [....] I was hoping for greater insight into the Klingons." (I Am Spock) Nimoy hoped, in specific, that the movie would provide some important insight into why the Klingons had "always been so angry, such nasty, vicious murderers." Nimoy wanted the insightful knowledge to be an intellectually transformational force, changing the thinking of Kirk and the audience. (Star Trek Movie Memories, hardback ed., pp. 287-288) In an interview in the DS9 Season 7 DVD, Robert O'Reilly observed that a long-running joke among actors who have played Klingons is that they do not want to appear in the Star Trek films as, he believes, the only purpose of a Klingon in one of the films was to be killed off.

Although these last three quotes may not seem relevant, I believe they highlight an important facet of the racialisation of the Klingons. It reads as though Gene Roddenberry was against depicting the Klingons in a more sympathetic light than the Federation, and considering that the Klingons are intended to be non-white, refusing to give depth or motive to their anger in favour of keeping them "nasty, vicious murderers" comes across as fairly racist, especially when these kind of reductive and harmful stereotypes could've been challenged as Nimoy suggests. The treatment of Klingons as disposable villains is also concerning in this context.

The Next Generation

African-American actors were often cast as Klingons in TNG and subsequent Star Trek productions. This practice wasn't racially motivated but was instead carried out because it lessened makeup time, as the performers already had a brown complexion without having to have their skin painted that color. (Stardate Revisited: The Origin of Star Trek: TNG, Part 2: Launch, TNG Season 1 Blu-ray) Tony Todd, who portrayed the recurring Klingon character Kurn, stated, "I don't look at the Klingons necessarily as African-Americans, but it's about tapping into something–they're certainly an alienated people, so maybe that's why African-American actors can identify with those characters. But that doesn't mean it's exclusive to them." (Star Trek: Communicator issue 116, p. 54) Michael Westmore actually changed the Klingon facial design in numerous ways, though. He stated, "I added a Shakespearean style of facial hair and a forehead bone structure based on dinosaur vertebrae and I was able to modify motion picture Klingons for television." (Star Trek: Aliens & Artifacts, p. 59) In "A Matter Of Honor", the Klingons were intended to be used to shed some light on a common social problem prevalent at the time of the episode's making. This was, namely, what it was like to be the only person of either white or black skin coloration while surrounded by people of the other color. The Klingons were selected to illustrate this theme as a spin on the usual arrangement of a predominantly Human crew serving aboard the Enterprise-D alongside Worf. (Captains' Logs: The Unauthorized Complete Trek Voyages, p. 176) Two historical societies, the Samurai and Vikings, served as other inspirations, Moore perceiving about Klingon culture, "There was the calm, elegant reserve associated with the Samurai but there was the 'party-down' like the Vikings." (Star Trek: Communicator issue 114, p. 58) "I stopped thinking of the Klingons as the Cold War adversary," he explained. "I didn't think it fit [....] The place where the Russians were when I was doing the Klingon shows just wasn't as relevant any more." (Star Trek: The Magazine Volume 1, Issue 19, pp. 64-65) "The Klingons are not evil, tyrannical pirates bent only on pillage and plunder. They have a strict, almost unyielding code of ethics and honor and take their responsibilities as rulers seriously." Following a description of the Klingon homeworld, the memo continued by saying, "Klingon society could most closely be compared to that of Sparta or feudal Japan." ("Sins of the Father" audio commentary, TNG Season 3 Blu-ray) Having recently seen the film Malcolm X, he imagined the Klingons in the "Birthright" duology as metaphors for black people. (Captains' Logs: The Unauthorized Complete Trek Voyages, p. 274; Star Trek: Communicator issue 105, p. 16) "There's a certain way you have to carry yourself. You have to really be able to project the violence and the anger [....] All you have to do is think of the Spartans. They say, 'They'd rather have you come home dead on your shield than come home a coward.' [18]

This is where I feel the video essay previously mentioned falls short -- in the next gen era, Klingons are now explicitly black-coded. While some Asian cultural influences are still cited, they learn more towards the historical and are intermixed with other historical European influences (Spartans, Vikings, Shakespeare) rather than being fueled by contemporary prejudices towards the political enemies of the US as they were in the TOS era.

Deep Space Nine

Fields also generally based the Klingon group on American Western prototypes from the film The Magnificent Seven or, to a lesser extent, Japanese prototypes from The Magnificent Seven's movie source material, Seven Samurai. (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion (pp. 131-132)) "So, the hair [...] was permed. So, it had more of a curl instead of the straight type look, and by perming it, they were able to kind of give them larger, bigger hair, so it was more like a mane." ("Michael Westmore's Aliens: Season Two", DS9 Season 2 DVD special features) "I don't know how you could equate Klingons with what's going on in the world today," he admitted. "I think the intention was to make them like samurai. That hairdo they gave them is very much a samurai hairdo. A lot of the fight sequences, the moves with the bat'telh, are very much taken out of the Asian martial arts [....] It's very romantic you know, these three old guys, the Klingon over-the-hill gang." (The Official Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Magazine issue 15, pp. 17-18) "It was different for them to get into this makeup, because [...] [the makeup was more elaborate and] the beards were bigger, and they were greyer, and they had curls to them, and the moustaches, they had the Fu Manchu look to them. So, they weren't used to sitting that long to be a Klingon." ("Michael Westmore's Aliens: Season Two", DS9 Season 2 DVD special features) For recreating some old-style Klingons in "Trials and Tribble-ations", the Klingon-playing actors had to be made up with the same swarthy, shiny brown makeup as used in the original series. (The Magic of Tribbles: The Making of Trials and Tribble-ations) ...he had them unite in song, thinking this was "just the kind of thing that Klingons do" because they are, in his opinion, similar to Vikings. (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion (p. 449)) "I always saw the Klingons as a combination of Japanese Samurai who haven't had their morning coffee (or tea!) and African Zulu warriors." [25]

In DS9 the only inspirations cited seem to be historical, once again leaning towards feudal Japan and the Vikings. Interestingly although the Klingons here are predominantly dark-skinned, I don't think that J.G. Hertzler, who is white, had his skin significantly darkened to play Martok (at least, not compared to the obvious brown makeup worn by other white actors playing Klingons). Having a white actor play a Klingon without dark makeup could've set a precedent decreasing the use of such practices later on, but no one seems to have picked up on it.

Enterprise

The Klingons of ENT: "Sleeping Dogs" were based on the crew of the Russian submarine Kursk. "For me," said Dekker, "the point was to acknowledge the Klingons as 'people' – to find them in a clear position of distress [....] The idea to 'humanize' their plight was mine, and it wasn't anything I thought about as far as canon. It just seemed right." (Star Trek: The Official Starships Collection, issue 41, pp. 10-12) In the final draft script of "Affliction", the altered Klingons were initially referred to as "fierce-looking aliens" and were further described thus; "The aliens have a swarthy complexion, and dark facial hair... they could easily be mistaken for Humans. We'll eventually learn these are Klinqons... but their cranial ridges have disappeared."

At this point in time it seems the Klingons had essentially done a 180 from one-dimensional villains to sympathetic fan favourites, while still retaining the skin-darkening aspect of their makeup and "barbaric" characterisation. Although this is not mentioned in the article's section on the Abrams films, the images provided do demonstrate a level of skin darkening for the Klingons' brief appearance in Into Darkness.

The final section of the article is incomplete, meaning I don't have a lot of information for Discovery's redesign of the Klingons. The sources I can find cite ancient civilisations such as the Byzantines as well as Islamic architecture as inspiration for the set design, with a baroque influence on the costumes. I have heard rumours that the crew of Discovery have cited North African cultures as their inspiration for the Klingons but I can't currently find a source for this. Despite the lack of direct quotes, it's visibly clear that the Klingon makeup is still darkening the skin of white actors, although this time also to non-human blue and purple colours, as well as altering certain features in a racialised way. To elaborate: Mary Chieffo, who plays L'Rell on Discovery, is white and has a very thin nose and small lips, but in costume these are broadened in a way that seems imitative of African ethnic features.

As of the making of this post (early August 2023) I haven't seen any of Strange New Worlds, but from some cursory research its latest episode (Subspace Rhapsody) seems to have put a white actor (Bruce Horak) in brown makeup to play a Klingon. I am deeply disappointed that on a television set in 2023 people can still be darkening an actors skin like this without questioning the racial implications of what they're doing.

Thank you for reading to the end of this post. Please feel free to link to it if you found it useful enough to cite in another context. I would like to reiterate that I am white and while this is an issue I care deeply about it is not one I have an emic understanding of, and if anything I've said here is inappropriate I would be very grateful to be made aware.

#ive tried to make this like. really formal to cover the fact that im fuckin Ragin at snw for doing literal fucking brownface in 2023 #next up top ten things fans should Fucking Reconsider saying about klingon characters #anyway #i feel like as a white trekkie who's big into klingons there's this insane blindspot when it comes to The Racism #that ive only ever seen fans of colour talk about #so if i have one goal for this post its to try and reduce that blindspot a bit and give people something concrete to point to #when some fuckwits in their notes acting as tho ~theyre aliens so it cant be racist~#tlhIngan #ghItlhpu'wIj

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cosmerelists · 5 months

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Ranking Cosmere Planets By How Cool I Find Them

[Contains spoilers for all Cosmere! I'll list the books in the title so you can skip the ones relating to books you haven't read]

The Cosmere has some very cool planets: but which are the coolest? In this list, I will rank them by my own definition of cool, which I'm defining here as "Planets where my interest in past or future stories is chiefly driven by the nature of the world itself."

#13: UTol (From Yumi and the Nightmare Painter; this entry also contains a spoiler from The Sunlit Man)

UTol is the sky planet that Painter can see from the surface of his world, Komashi, and we get a glimpse of it just right at the end of Yumi. It's also possible we get a glimpse of the same world right at the end of The Sunlit Man, but I don't think that's confirmed. Anyway. It's an ocean world, and the inhabitants have four arms and may have originally been from Yolen. But we don't learn anything cool about the world itself, really. I guess the fact that it can always be seen even through the shroud that otherwise blankets Komashi--that's cool. But I don't know if that's UTol's doing. Maybe when we get more info, it will turn out this planet is super ultra cool and then I will look like a fool. But for now--eh. Oceans. With water? Yawn.

#12: First of Sun (From "Sixth of Dusk")

First of Sun is a hostile world with jungles and oceans and magic birds. It's cool--as all Cosmere worlds are in my opinion--but none of it had any special, extra coolness for me. I suppose I've never been much interested in parrots, and also its only feature story so far was quite short.

#11: Braize (From Stormlight Archives; this entry also contains a spoiler from The Sunlit Man)

I am legitimately curious about Braize, Roshar's "Hell" where the Fused were imprisoned by the Heralds. Like, what is Hell like in a material sense? I want someone to visit it (and I really want to know if Sigzil has been there himself, based on his mentioning a Hell visit during The Sunlit Man), and my curiosity makes it seem more cool. But not too cool, because for all we know, Braize is super boring. We just don't have enough info yet.

#10: Nalthis (From "Warbreaker")

Nalthis has some interesting things going on, planetarily. People don't always properly die, which anyone who cheated and already looked at my #1 planet already knows is something I enjoy. It has some unique cultures, which is also something I enjoy in a Sanderson world, although the differences are painted in pretty broad strokes. It's colorful. I don't know. I'm not super into Nalthis, but it definitely has some cool aspects.

#9: Taldain (From White Sand)

I have a shocking confession that I forgot to include in my authorial confessions list: I haven't actually read White Sand. At least, not more than a few pages before I got frustrated with how hard it was to read it on my phone, which is where I had access to it. Anyway. I do think the general set up of this planet is legitimately cool: tidal-locked, I think, with a Dayside and a Nightside which each have their own magic system. There's a lot of sand. Water matters. I think there are magic tattoos. So I can't rank this too highly myself simply because I don't actually know much about it, but it does seem "Top 10" cool.

#8: Scadrial (From Mistborn)

Scadrial has an advantage because it has Time Periods, and really is a pretty different world in Era 1 vs. Era 2. I have a dark fascination with Era 1 Scadrial: the ashfalls, the mist, the slow but inevitable apocalypse constantly creeping closer...would NOT want to visit, but it's cool to read about. Era 2 Scadrial is bright and shiny in comparison. I'm not much of a Wild West gal myself, but there are giraffes, and that ups any planet's coolness, even if it has lost its brooding volcanos. Oh! And I hope we hear more about the Southern Scadrians too.

#7: Sel (From Elantris and The Emperor's Soul)

I've been trying to judge these planets based on the planets themselves rather than on their magic systems...but on Sel, can you really separate those? The magic is based on geography, after all! Anyway, I like Sel because of the wild things going on with its pooled investiture. I don't understand computer programming and so I may or may not really get its magic, but I like the fact that it ranges from the stately, sometimes assholish Elantrians to Soul Stamping. It's all very cool.

#6: Lumar (From Tress of the Emerald Sea)

Lumar is very cool. Like, color-based aether seas that each react differently to water? Rain as a deadly but necessary thing? The color borders where one aether sea meets another? Sailing on something other than water?? I ate it all up. Tress's world is wild and creative and definitely lots of fun.

#5: Roshar (From Stormlight Archives)

It's hard to separate Roshar the planet from the people and stories there, as I think it's the Cosmere planet I've spent the most time on, metaphorically speaking. But I gotta say, the idea of a constant, world-spanning storm that spits out magic and death--that's cool. A whole world that's inhabited only by crab-versions of things? Well, I hesitate to call that cool exactly, but it is...something. Plus, so many different cultures and religions and ideas on Roshar, which I really enjoy.

#4: Canticle (From The Sunlit Man)

Listen, I love Threnodites. Wherever they pop up, they are doing wild things and refusing to properly die and having names that are...let's say unique. And Canticle is quite the interesting planet. Imagine--not being able to stay in one place because you're constantly fleeing from the deadly sun while trying not to get too far ahead lest to stray into the constant fire tornado. Imagine powering your ships with dead-people batteries and doing engineering with your captive ghost engineers. The place is tiny and super invested and also an incandescent lightbulb or something. Again, I would NOT want to visit but that world is damn cool.

#3: Komashi (From Yumi and the Nightmare Painter)

I think my love of Threnody really affects these top picks. Komashi doesn't have Threnodites, but it does have the weird creepy shadow monsters which I apparently...love? (Learning much about myself writing this.) But in all seriousness, I really like Komashi and I am so curious about it. The idea of Virtuosity and how she manifests as both magical paintings and magical rock stacking. I am so curious about the magenta and cyan coloring and how Sanderson says its based on printers somehow and that yes there is one color missing (what??). The way the inhabitants just lived in a thick shadow sludge with lights creating small habitable zones...like, again, horrifying but such a cool and creative world to explore.

#2: Yolen (No books so far)

Maybe Yolen is super boring. But it is SO mysterious that it can't help but be cool. I mean, this is where the Shattering happened! I think it's where Hoid is from. I think there are dragons. It's just gotta be cool, right?

#1: Threnody (From Shadows for Silence in the Forests of Hell)

But my favorite planet, for whatever reason, is Threnody. I am dying for another story set on that planet. I am so curious about what the Evil is, and I want to hear more about the people living in the literal Forests of Hell. The Shadows and the rules that you have to follow to survive them, the use of silver, the fact that Threnodites just can't catch a fucking break. I am fascinated by all of it, and I think that Threnody is the coolest planet in the Cosmere.

#cosmere #cosmerelists

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legobiwan · 8 months

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do you have any thoughts on powerups/how the bros use them?

You have no idea what you have just unleashed, anon. :D I am super into world-building and lore when it comes to Mario stuff, so here's a random list of ideas that may or may not bear fruit for anyone who reads this. (Also, part of this is me sketching out concepts for solus creatura, so I thank my followers in advance for their patience here).

The vegetable/fruit/foliage powerups are naturally occurring. The Mushroom Kingdom has the most fertile conditions for these plants to grow, although other kingdoms have done a decent enough job of genetically engineering their own powerup plants.

This makes the powerups an integral part of the Mushroom Kingdom economy, and one of the reasons they're able to survive so long without any real standing army or defense system outside of Mario and Luigi. It's also one of the reasons they get invaded so often.

The Darklands, centuries before Bowser's reign, used to also cultivate powerups. They were overfarmed by a corrupt agricultural council, however, and in combination with a once-in-a-lifetime drought, the vast majority of their land and crop was ruined.

Luckily for the Darklands, their native species is capable of fire and they still retain a strong tradition of magical culture through the Magikoopas (although this was briefly wiped out during Bowser's father's reign, as he thought the Magikoopas were planning a coup. They, in fact, were, but for good reasons).

Now, the Mushroom Kingdom is wary of magic, due their own history and complicated relationship with the Darklands (this may be in part linked to an old civil war that caused the split between the Mushroom Kingdom and the Darklands). Their species is also just not that magically adept (something having to do with Toad physiognomy?) The powerups are a decent compromise - they afford magic-like abilities without rendering their user permanently superpowered.

There was some contention in the royal court when Mario and Luigi first arrived in terms of allowing them access to the powerups. Ultimately, it was decided the safety of the kingdom would supersede any worries about abuse of power. (This being said, Peach had to argue long and hard for this).

Mario and Luigi receive a monthly allotment of powerups and if they find any "in the wild," they're supposed to record each instance. Neither brother bothers with this and every month they get a nasty letter from Porcina in accounting, which has led to a years-long feud between her and Mario. Luigi has learned the better way to circumvent the system is bribery by brownie. It usually, although not always, works.

The non-vegetative powerups are created in Mushroom Kingdom labs. Because the Mushroom Kingdom is like a Times Square Station for warp-pipe travel, the dimensional crossroads makes it easier to cross-pollinate powerups with characteristics of other species and lands (cats, penguins, etc.)

Back in the day, E. Gadd was involved with a lot of this research, but ultimately left to pursue his own interests in the paranormal. It's also rumored that he and the governing scientific committee at the time had a spat about the limits of experimental ethics.

When Mario and Luigi are first introduced to the powerups, they think this is the coolest thing in the world. They have powers, which was an impossibility back in New York.

It takes them a while to get the hang of using the powerups. Mario set fire to a Mushroom Kingdom stable one time. Luigi crash landed into someone's wedding as a kitsune. The citizens, by and large, were relatively forgiving of these incidents, although it did make for a wild few days in the press.

At first, Mario and Luigi both love the fireball ability. That is, until the events of Super Paper Mario, after which they go a solid few months without coming NEAR a fireflower. Mario can't help flashback to that terrible moment in Merlon's house while Luigi experiences the oddest phantom pains if he as much holds a fireflower, although he can't say why exactly. (Mario, of course, has no idea Luigi was boxed and bombed twice by Dimentio).

Luigi loves flying and may steal a few extra Tanooki leaves to go out and experiment with aeronautics/aviation concepts in the dead of the night. This, subconsciously, directly influences his Brobot designs in his time as Mr. L.

Mario's favorite powerup is the classic mushroom. Finally, he gets to be as tall or taller than his younger brother.

They both think the Invincibility Star is incredible until they're faced with a situation in which the invincibility wears off at a dangerous moment, which almost turned fatal for Mario. It's a sobering moment, and brothers learn the lesson that no one is invincible forever.

The Mushroom Kingdom allows Mario and Luigi to use the powerups under the assumption that the "magic," as it were, never lasts. What they don't know, however, is that Luigi has a strange penchant for magic, which is why on more than one occasion, the effects of the powerups take longer to wear off on him. (One day, Luigi shows up to meet his brother looking a little...furrier than usual. "You look hairy, bro," Mario says, furrowing his brow. "I'm Italian." Mario rolls his eyes at his brother's quip. "Not that Italian. What, did you forget to shave again?" Luigi just shrugs, not wanting to admit this isn't the first time he's woken up with more hair than he's used to).

They tease each other mercilessly when they are introduced to some of the animalistic powerups. Luigi puts a litter box in his brother's room and buys him a collar with the name tag, "Fluffy." Mario cooks Luigi fish for five days straight after the penguin incident. He also starts singing the "Walk Like a Penguin" jingle every time his brother comes into the room.

#hello there #ask legobiwan #i...uh...i got a little too involved with this one #luigi #mario #powerups #smb meta

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thecreaturecodex · 1 year

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Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni

“The Mouse King” © deviantArt user MalakiaLaGatta, accessed at her gallery here

[”The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” by ETA Hoffmann is much darker and weirder than the more famous ballet it inspired. It’s mostly to do with the machinations between rival magical kingdoms and the Mouse King’s extortion racket for Christmas presents. As opposed to the ballet, which is fully half plotless dances based on ethnic stereotypes. I do enjoy Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker, but let’s be honest. The Mouse King in the story is much more monstrous, having seven heads. For practical reasons, this is usually dropped from adaptations. A Soviet animated version compromised with three heads, and designs with that number are much more common than the full set.

The character has no name in the original story, just a title. We do get his mother’s name: Mouserinks. She’s the one who cursed the prince into being a nutcracker in the first place, and the Mouse King is hunting him to prevent him from turning back. My name for the character is derived from a Tamil word meaning rat or mouse. Since I’m making him a rakshasa, and different adaptations vary in what species he’s supposed to be, I figured that it was appropriate. The flavor text may draw some inspiration from the recent OGL unpleasantness.]

Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni The Mouse King, The Rat King Concerns greed, gluttony, rodents Domains Animal, Evil, Law, Trickery Subdomains Fear, Fur, Greed, Tyranny Worshipers evil ratfolk, extortionists, misers, wererats Minions rakshasas, rat kings, swarms Unholy Symbol seven crowns stacked in a triangle Favored Weapon rapier Obedience gorge yourself on fine food and drink for 1 hour. Despoil any leftovers so no one else may benefit from them. Gain a +4 profane bonus on saves against disease Boons 1: summon swarm 2/day; 2: hunger for flesh 2/day; 3: heroes’ feast 2/day

Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni CR 21 LE Outsider (native) This humanoid stands smaller than a human and has seven rodent heads, arrayed facing in all directions. They are clad in a fancy military dress uniform, carry a fine saber, and wear a crown on each of their heads.

Korittunni the Mouse King is one of the least of the rakshasa immortals, but that does not make him any less dangerous or destructive. He is obsessed with things: taking them from other people and destroying them if he cannot take them. No object is below his acquisitiveness; he enjoys stealing toys and candy from children as much as he does jewels or magical items from the wealthy and powerful. He rarely works alone, and surrounds himself with sycophantic ratfolk, ver, wererats and other rodent-like humanoids. Most of his elite agents are other rakshasas, typically with rodent features in their natural form.

Korittunni often is the one to initiate hostilities, but if he can take what he wants through intimidation, trickery or mind-controlling magic, he does so before fighting. His teeth are strong and powerful, but he usually fights with a dueling sword. He is a master of bardic magic, weaving spells and magical dance together in order to augment his own abilities and those of any of his minions. Korittunni often leaves his victims alive but humiliated, cursed or polymorphed, as a warning to others who would cross him.

The Mouse King’s kingdom is a vast subterranean city, from which he plots robbery and extortion. Many criminal gangs pay him protection money, and in turn he helps to supply them with tools and talent from his own reserves. And doesn’t just wipe them out and steal from them. Korittunni is a dangerous partner, however, as he will often make the terms and conditions of his deals more and more restrictive, until his allies are little more than slaves. He can be charming when he wants to, but his default mode of expression is to threaten and bully. He is something of a mama’s boy and speaks fondly of his own mother, although whether she actually literally existed as he describes, or is a composite character based on dozens of reincarnations, is mysterious.

Korittunni is only two feet tall, but no less dangerous for his size. He always carries a magic rapier capable of stealing magical defenses and a rod of splendor.

Korittunni CR 21 XP 409,600 LE Small outsider (native, rakshasa) Init +14; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +29, scent Defense AC 38, touch 22, flat-footed 27 (+1 size, +10 Dex, +1 dodge, +14 natural) hp 420 (29d10+261) Fort +17, Ref +26, Will +22 DR 20/epic and piercing; Immune death effects, disease, petrifaction, poison, polymorph; Resist acid 20, cold 20, electricity 20, fire 20, sonic 20; SR 36 Defensive Abilities all-around vision, evasion Offense Speed 30 ft., climb 20 ft. Melee +3 spellstealing rapier +43/+38/+33/+28 (1d4+9/15-20), 7 bites +35 (1d4+3) or 7 bites +40 (1d4+6) Special Attacks bardic performance (59 rounds/day, swift action, countersong, deadly performance, dirge of doom, distraction, fascinate, frightening tune, inspire competence +6, inspire courage +4, inspire greatness, inspire heroics, soothing performance, suggestion), detect thoughts (DC 35), voracious Spell-like Abilities CL 20th, concentration +31 (+35 casting defensively) At will—bestow curse (DC 25), contagion (DC 25) 3/day—greater command (DC 26), greater teleport, nightmare (DC 26), quickened phobia (DC 27), ravenous rodents 1/day—demand (DC 29), mass hunger for flesh (DC 28), polymorph any object (DC 29), prediction of failure (DC 29) Spells CL 20th, concentration +31 (+35 casting defensively) 6th (7/day)—mass cat’s grace, mass cure moderate wounds (DC 27), greater scrying (DC 27), irresistible dance (DC 29), pied piping (DC 29) 5th (7/day)—cloak of dreams (DC 28), greater dispel magic, mind fog (DC 28), nightmare (DC 28), seeming (DC 26) 4th (7/day)—dominate person (DC 27), freedom of movement, hold monster (DC 27), legend lore, pessimism (DC 27), sleepwalking suggestion (DC 27) 3rd (7/day)—cure serious wounds (DC 24), fear (DC 24), glibness, haste, mass feather step, sculpt sound 2nd (8/day)—blur, gallant inspiration, heroism, invisibility, quick change, silence (DC 22) 1st (8/day)— charm person (DC 24), comprehend languages, cure light wounds (DC 22), identify, saving finale, undetectable alignment 0th—detect magic, ghost sound (DC 21), light, lullaby (DC 23), prestidigitation, read magic Statistics Str 23, Dex 31, Con 28, Int 25, Wis 22, Cha 32 Base Atk +29; CMB +34; CMD 55 Feats Combat Casting, Combat Expertise, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Extra Performance, Greater Spell Focus (enchantment), Improved Critical (rapier), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Mobility, Quicken SLA (phobia), Spell Focus (enchantment), Spring Attack, Step Up, Whirlwind Attack Skills Acrobatics +31, Appraise +25, Bluff +36, Climb +32, Diplomacy +18, Disguise +40, Escape Artist +31, Intimidate +29, Knowledge (arcana, engineering, dungeoneering, local) +25, Knowledge (planes) +27, Perception +29, Perform (act, dance) +32, Sense Motive +27, Spellcraft +25, Stealth +35, Swim +24, Use Magic Device +29; Racial Modifiers +4 Bluff, +8 Disguise, +2 Perception Languages Common, Goblin, Infernal, Senzar, telepathy 300 ft. SQ change shape (humanoid or rodent, polymorph), rakshasa lord traits Ecology Environment urban and underground Organization unique Treasure triple standard (rod of splendor, +3 spellstealing rapier, other treasure) Special Abilities Bardic Performance (Su/Sp) Korittunni can use bardic performances as a 20th level bard. Rakshasa Immortal Trait (Ex/Su) Korittunni is a rakshasa immortal, a powerful unique outsider capable of granting spells. This also grants him the following abilities

Immunity to death effects, disease and poison

Resist acid, cold, electricity, fire and sonic 20

DR/epic

Telepathy 300 ft.

Korittunni’s natural weapons, as well as any weapons he wields, are treated as epic, lawful and evil for the purposes of overcoming damage reduction.

Ravenous Rodents (Sp) This spell functions as a creeping doom spell, except that the swarms summoned appear as rats and mice. The swarms have the animal type instead of the vermin type, and do not have the poison special attack. Instead, they gain the voracious ability (see below) and deal damage to unattended objects in their area as well. This is the equivalent of a 7th level spell. Spells Korittunni casts spells as a 20th level bard. Voracious (Ex) Korittunni’s bite attacks deal double damage to creatures with the plant subtype, and to objects made out of plant materials such as paper, wood and most cloth.

#korittuni #rakshasa #rakshasa immortal #mouse king #rat king #the nutcracker #the nutcracker and the mouse king #eta hoffmann #demigod

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elliottjpg · 2 months

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OCs de La Quête d'Ewilan

Ewilan's Quest OCs

Hey guys, guess who has two new children!!! (well, one and a half. Ewel has actually been hanging out in the back of my mind for a couple years.)

Luce: Shadowalker apprentice (kinda like a ninja but not really)

Ewelliottan: Analyst, a scholar studying the theory of magic (because she is crap at the practice)

///

Luce, expliquant le concept de greffe à Ewel: Par exemple, Jorune Aénandra avait une greffe qui le rendait nyctalope. Ewelliottan, sans réfléchir: JE SAVAIS BIEN QUE C'ÉTAIT UNE SALOPE!!!!!! Luce: Luce, sortant un carnet et un crayon: Fascinant. Dis-m'en plus.

Ewelliottan: Sur une échelle de "Non mais allô quoi" à "Tu es triste? Arrête", comment tu te sens aujourd'hui? Luce: Quelque part entre "Coup d'boule, rien à faire" et "Il est lent, ce lait"; mais pour donner une réponse définitive je dirais "Mange tes morts". Et toi Ewel? Ewelliottan: Un bon "Macron, explosion." Salim: Je croyais comprendre le français, visiblement j'avais tort.

///

(More character info in English under the cut!)

I'm aware that most people familiar with Ewilan's Quest speak French, but I am writing this in English for accessibility reasons. For folks who don't know the books: it is set in Gwendalavir, a country in a world parallel to Earth. Shadowalkers are an elusive guild of ninja-like people with a strong focus on freedom and communion with nature. Designers are people who have the gift of Drawing, which allows them to temporarily will things into existence.

This is set some ten to fifteen years after the events of the last book; Gwendalavir has tied economical and cultural relations with France thanks to Bruno Vignol. Most Alavirians are aware of the existence of the other world, and although unrealistic, for plot reason the existence of Gwendalavir is more or less common knowledge on Earth.

Luce Pezal

He's a Shadowalker apprentice, Salim's apprentice specifically (I wasn't gonna give him to a canon character at first, but I didn't feel like creating a whole-ass OC to be his master, so Salim now has to deal with him.) He is a very cheerful and friendly guy, with a rather nonchalant demeanour - he has elevated not giving a fuck to an art form.

He grew up in Al-Vor in a family of merchants, moved to the capital Al-Jeit to try and do something with his life, did a lot of small jobs trying to find something he liked, and ended up working as a stable boy in the stable that Salim frequents. Luce has always been fascinated by Earth, and latched onto Salim the second he heard he was from there. After some time Salim realized that Luce had the potential to make a good shadowalker, and offered to take him as an apprentice.

Their master/student relationship is a little unusual, as 1) they are both adults with only a 10 years difference, 2) they were already friends before Luce became a shadowalker, and 3) Luce's friendliness and nonchalance look like disrespect toward his master (they aren't). He knew close to nothing about shadowalkers before meeting Salim, so he is utterly unfazed about the fact that his master, great-master and great-great-master are all legends in the guild's eyes.

Luce highly dislikes fighting (although he fights very well); unfortunately for him, he is often targeted by thugs who think he'll be an easy mark because of his missing right hand (he was born without one). He'll avoid blades as much as possible, preferring to fight bare-handed or use cunning instead. He is great at sleight of hand and lockpicking.

He's around 20-23 years old, and he's gay.

Ewelliottan "Ewel" Ar'son

Ewelliottan was born on Earth to a French mother and an Alavirian father. Her parents own a convenience store. She went to Gwendalavir on a study program, and decided to stay there to study the gift of Drawing and become an analyst. She has a very small affinity for Drawing, but far from enough to be a proper analyst, so she compensates it with encyclopedic knowledge of Drawing theory. She is fascinated by all Drawing-adjacent unexplained phenomena, like hiatuses, the Eye of Otolep, the history of Al-Jeit and Al-Poll, variations of the gift, etc. If she could study Mathieu Gil'Sayan under a microscope she would.

She's seen as eccentric by her colleagues; she can spend weeks nose-deep in books in the depth of the Al-Jeit Academy's library, and talk anyone's ears off about Merwyn Ril'Avalon (in time she'll become the country's leading expert on him). Rather than doing analyses of Designers' gifts, she works as a researcher. She occasionally gives conferences or classes, and her students find her either riveting, or boring as hell, with no in-between.

She has some Faëls in her ancestry; the only consequences are slightly pointed ears and a tendency to tan very quickly. When she was little she wanted to become a shadowalker; she thought that her Faël blood would give her an advantage, but it turns out it very much doesn't, and she hates exercising.

She's a little older than Luce, by 3 or 5 years (I haven't decided yet). She's bisexual, and non-binary, in a "none gender with left girl" kind of way.

(There's a few other pics of her here!)

Luce and Ewel

Luce and Ewelliottan met on a solo mission as part of Luce's training. Salim had met Ewel through his wife Ewilan, who frequents the Academy in her Sentinel job. He found out that Ewel was going to Al-Far to give a conference, so he offered Luce's services as an escort for the trip, as the roads and the city aren't safe. Knowing Luce's fascination for Earth, and Ewel's origins, he thought they would get along well. What he hadn't expected was for them to come back with friendship bracelets, three hundred inside jokes, and probably a blood pact.

While Luce is not supposed to share shadowalker knowledge with anyone outside of the guild, he does tell Ewel a lot about his training, in exchange for knowledge about the other world. Ewel taught Luce Earth slang, and Salim is both confused and mortified because he hasn't set foot on Earth in like twenty years and doesn't understand anything they're saying.

#la quête d'ewilan #ewilan's quest #les mondes d'ewilan #le pacte des marchombres #pierre bottero #gwendalavir #my ocs #blorbo from my brain #ewelliottan ar'son #luce pezal

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the12thnightproject · 4 months

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Chapter 34: Turn the Page. An impatient Katsu discovers that Yoshimoto travels at his own pace - but maybe he has the correct idea?

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

Travel with Yoshimoto? I could probably get anywhere faster and less conspicuously without an escort, but in spite of his ambivalent manner, his knowledge of the politics involved would be worth having. Not to mention there was always the possibility that Yoshimoto wouldn’t give up the location of Yoshiaki’s hideout unless I agreed to go with him. “Thank you.”

He cast a critical eye over my clothes. He didn’t visibily flinch at my ‘Katsu’ drag, but he was clearly unimpressed. “Dare I hope that you still have the clothing Mitsuhide provided?"

"No." I didn’t mention the turquoise yukata. That wasn’t what I imagined Yoshimoto meant. "I've abandoned the Kaya identity completely."

"Pity. It would be most believable to Yoshiaki if I brought along a concubine." He tapped his fingers on the table. "Stand up, if you will."

Wondering what he had in mind, I obeyed the polite request. Yoshimoto got to his feet as well, and stood next to me, "You'll travel as my page, although I'll have to procure a suitable outfit. My own clothes would be far too long for you."

Had it been Mitsuhide who made such a statement, I would have protested that I wasn't too small, it was he who was too tall, but Yoshimoto had a way of making everything seem like a compliment. He thought a moment longer then added, "I have a relative whose castle will be on our route. I imagine we might find something suitable there, for you will certainly need warmer outfits for the mountains. Her son’s clothes will likely fit you."

Right. If Yoshiaki was in mining country, as the context of Iekane’s letter suggested, it would be colder there. Maybe not as cold as the Togakushi area where I was from, but cold enough to need heavy outerwear. "Thank you. My winter gear is back at my master’s home."

When Aki had first disappeared, it had been the last of summer. I had never expected the search to take me into late autumn. And yet… here I was, following a path that hopefully would not be another dead end. That morbid thought reminded me that I needed to make arrangements for Hiko tonight too.

Yoshimoto reached out and tested the thickness of my kimono. "Perhaps we'll encounter traders on the route. They might have some pelts they are taking to the export merchants." Huh. That suggested it was really cold where we were going (or that Yoshimoto just wanted an excuse to go for shopping). He knelt at his writing desk and jotted down a few notes. "Do you also need a horse?"

"No. Mine is already stabled in town and she's a surefooted mountain pony." A bad tempered one, true, but we'd be more likely to see snow instead of rain, so hopefully she'd cope.

“Ah, you might be better situated in that regard than I am.” Yoshimoto folded up the letter, and set it aside. “I’ll have one of Shingen’s spies take this to my cousin tomorrow.”

Hm – I hadn’t realized that the Takeda spy network reached as far south as Sakai. But that did present a solution to one of my other problems. “Do you have easy access to the mitsumono then? Because Sho’s younger brother is in danger, and it would be a good idea to have someone watching over him.”

“How much danger?” He looked at me steadily, perhaps reassessing what he’d just gotten himself into.

“Life threatening.” While I didn’t think Iekane was currently in Sakai (because if he were, why would he send a message to de Sousa instead of just talking face to face) he probably had access to assassins.

Yoshomoto reopened the letter and scrawled a few more lines. “To be safe, I can have him taken to Kasugayama until he’s out of danger.” He muttered something about Kenshin needing a hobby.

“If you could make that happen, that’s probably the best possible solution.” Iekane would have to be crazy to attack Kasugayama. Kenshin’s reputation as a fighter was infamous.

“A good idea will waft through my mind on occasion.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “Very rare occasions.” Before I could dispute that, he continued. “Right then. Another good idea is that we should sleep. You shall take my bed.”

"I can't kick you out of your bed." I’d broken into his room – it would be impolite to also steal his bed. For that matter, I couldn't imagine him sleeping on the floor.

"If you're that concerned for my comfort, we could share." The look he gave me was enough to convince me that a) it would not be platonic, b) he was not teasing, and c) he expected me to turn him down anyway.

"I'm actually used to roughing it. Don't forget that before I was p-p-pretending to be Mitsuhide's concubine,” Let’s just ignore the fact that for one night, it had not exactly been a pretense. “I was delivering messages all over the country. My tent and bedroll are with my horse, and it’s not as if I wouldn’t be using those the next few nights anyway."

If Yoshimoto noticed my hesitation in describing my relationship to Mitshide, he was kind enough not to mention it. "Tent. Bedroll. No that won't do. There are enough inns on the route to suit."

Ah. We were going glamping. Well, it was his money. The Imagawa were land poor, but Yoshimoto at least seemed to have unlimited wealth. I supposed that now I had liberated my, for want of a better description, trust fund, from Francisco's desk, I could afford to stay at an inn as well.

But for this night, I pointed to his bed. "You, futon. Me, floor." Without giving him a chance to argue, I simply stretched out in the corner, using my pack as a pillow.

The lantern light was suddenly shadowed by his figure, standing over me. “I don’t care that you are used to, as you say, ‘roughing it.’ I will not be able to sleep if I know that you are on the floor. Take my bed please. I have other options.”

… I ended up sleeping in his bed. Yoshimoto found an accommodating tea maid (perhaps the same one as before) and spent the night elsewhere.

The following morning we were off, far later than I would have preferred, but Yoshimoto is not a morning person. In fact, by the time we had left the inn, taken care of half a dozen little tasks that Yoshimoto had insisted were important, it was long past dawn and I was already feeling impatient.

Luckily, getting in touch with one of Shingen’s spies took very little time – in fact as quickly as Yoshimoto made contact, one would think that she’d been watching for him. Or maybe even me, as it turned out that I knew her, for she was the kuinochi who had clued me in on the existence of the contraceptive tea. Sute, who didn’t appear to have a verbal ‘off’ button, had flitted around Yoshimoto, boldly flirting with him, before agreeing that bodyguarding a small boy to Kasugayama sounded like a fun new mission.

Her attention span seemed to jump from topic to topic so quickly that I was dizzy trying to keep up with her. “I love children, I would have a dozen of my own, but Chiyome thinks I would get bored with babies, so she reminds me to drink the – oh, Katsu, are you still drinking the tea?” She twined her arms around Yoshimoto for a moment. “You will need to if you will be travelling with this one. His skin is so very soft, do you not agree?” Then before I could respond to that (although what, really could I say?) she suddenly changed moods completely. “If someone is trying to kill a small boy, don’t worry, I will gut him like a fish.” She gestured to the arsenal of weapons and tools she had with her.

To add reassurance, Yoshimoto nodded. “All of Shingen’s mitsumono are brutal in a fight if necessary. Shingen won’t send anyone out who can’t protect themselves and others. Let us retrieve this child now.” It was said with a slight impatience … as if I hadn’t been agitating to get this show on the road hours ago.

I had a general idea where Hiko and his family lived, and well, Sho’s looks made it easy to track them all down. All I’d had to say was ‘green eyed beauty’ and her neighbors pointed me to their house.

Once Hiko had been guaranteed that his mother and sisters would be taken care of in a safe house arranged by Yoshimoto, he treated the idea of traveling to Kasugayama as a great adventure. In fact the biggest resistence to the plan came from Sho. Though she didn’t blink at my transformation from Kaya to Katsu, the news that Hiko was in danger was another issue altogether. In a show of defiance, my former maid not only refused to go with her mother and sisters to the safe haven, but also insisted upon accompanying her brother as an additional bodyguard. “I’m not helpless. And you’ll need another pair of eyes to keep watch on him. Hiko gets into everything.”

Sute had given her a long measuring look, then surprisingly agreed to another travelling companion.

In fact, Sute and Sho seemed to take an instant liking to each other, and as they got on the road, I could hear them chattering about everything under the sun.

Finally, Yoshimoto and I were able to leave Sakai too. I was happy to have the city in my so called rearview mirror. Moonlight also was glad to be on the road, especially after being stuck in a stable for weeks. I felt the same. Playing house, so to speak, with Mitsuhide would always have been a chore for me because I just didn’t like being inside. Getting back on the road was such a blessed relief....

And maybe if you keep telling yourself that, you will eventually come to believe it.

The only person who didn’t seem relieved to leave the city was Yoshimoto himself. With a figurative dark cloud looming over his head, his frown and drooping posture suggested some private misery. I suspected it had to do with his rebellious vassals, but I hesitated to question him because I didn’t want to make matters worse.

Thankfully, once we were well out of town, and the humid sea air gave way to a cooler crisp weather, he shook himself out of the mood and began peppering me with questions about the future, or, more specifically about the art and culture of the future. “You’ve never talked about this stuff with Sasuke?”

Yoshimoto’s shoulder lifted in a graceful shrug. “I have tried sometimes, but it was clear that his tastes and mine do not converge and I find it frustrating to hear about adventure stories when I prefer to learn about theater, art and dance.”

“Um, you’re probably going to find my conversation just as bothersome then.” Sports were always my interest, and I knew nothing about painting or sculpture.

He turned a dazzling smile to me. “Not at all. Conversation with a lovely young woman is never a bother.” Whoa. I had forgotten that Yoshimoto could turn on the charm when he wished to.

Huh. Hm. I didn’t want to disappoint him after that, so after thinking for a moment, I decided I could manage to speak somewhat authoritatively about film. I took him through the plots of Ran and Throne of Blood, giving him a brief run down of Kurosawa which then detoured to Shakespeare (at least what I could recall of both – which wasn’t a lot in regard to Shakespeare, given my habit of skipping school). And then I remembered that Ran had been inspired by Motonari, or at least the version of him from my own timeline, which made everything weird for me all over again.

Over the past seven years, I had gotten used to living in the same era as the historical figures I had grown up learning about in school. I'd rarely encountered them though, so it had been easy to pretend that they were still characters in a film. Now, I'd just spent the bulk of autumn with Mitsuhide, taken part in a rescue of Hideyoshi, and was travelling with Yoshimoto. I was feeling a bit of surrealistic alienation.

"Katsuko, what happened next?" I realized that Yoshimoto was waiting for me to continue telling him the plot of Ran. "How do they get all of these battles on the stage? Or are your theaters bigger?"

Whoops, I had skipped over the technology involved, "It's not live, we have a different, or well another medium to stage visual stories." As best I could, I tried to explain how movies were made, and how they were available to be viewed at the push of a button.

He got very quiet for a while before saying, "I can't decide if the idea of holding a play in the palm of my hand whenever I want is wonderful or terrible. I'm afraid it would make it all less special."

Hm. He had a point, I supposed. "I've never known any other way. We still have live theater, and dance. It didn’t go away. It's just... really expensive. At least with streaming, more people can enjoy it. Even in my time, people with unlimited funds are the exception, not the rule."

He turned to look at me, and there was pity in that glance. "Is that how you grew up? Were you poor?"

Yoshimoto might consider it so, but he was coming from a life where he’d at least monetarily had everything he wanted and never had to make decisions about whether or not he could afford something. “No. We always had enough to eat, shelter, warm clothes. Just not much extra."

I'd worked in a coffee shop for three years to save up for my snowboard. I didn’t really want to explain further. Though Yoshimoto (when he was in the mood) was an interesting conversationalist, talking about my childhood wasn't something I enjoyed doing, and he didn’t have Mitsuhide's ability to take with facts I gave him and accurately understand the conflicting emotions attached to them. So instead of revealing more of myself, I diverted Yoshimoto's attention back to the movies.

Unfortunately Yoshimoto proved to be distractible in every area of his life, and rather than making good time and traveling directly to our destination, he would often stop, even in the smallest villages, and visit with craftsmen and artisans.

I found it frustrating, and, I’m sure the hulking spy (Mitsuhide’s man – I recognized him from Sakai), who had been patiently following us for several days felt the same. When we stopped to visit what seemed like the tenth artisan in three days, I finally had to protest. “It seems like we’re not making very good time. I could have gotten there already.”

"Would you have pushed yourself and your horse to exhaustion?” Yoshimoto held a ceramic bowl up to the light. It was so shiny, his reflection was visible in it. “By traveling in this manner, you can go faster in short bursts. I would wager we're covering nearly the same territory in the amount of time it would take you to travel the other way. And this way, we learn whether or not Yoshiaki is massing an army because these villagers take note of everything."

Hm. Ok. He was right… and I should have thought of that myself. In my impatience over our lack of speed, I'd stopped paying attention to Yoshimoto’s conversations with the innkeepers and artisans. My bad. "Is he?"

"Not as of yet. I believe he's still in the process of getting promises of support from anti-Oda clans. Small ones." Yoshimoto reluctantly gave the bowl back to the artisan. It was too big to take with us (not that it had stopped his other purchases). "With winter setting in, he'll wait to attack in spring. No one wants to march an army through the mountains in a blizzard."

He turned back to the artisan and purchased the bowl anyway. "I can gift it to my cousin. We're almost to their castle."

Yoshimoto apparently had relatives all over Japan although the exact lines of ancestry I was never clear on. This particular cousin Ohana was married to a daimyo who was currently an ally of Kenshin, or at least that was the apparent relationship. It didn’t seem like much of a connection, especially not when we were basically dropping by with very little warning.

However, when we arrived at a small castle in Takayama, Ohana's husband Susumu welcomed us warmly. Then he immediately bore Yoshimoto off for a long war conversation, leaving Ohana to outfit me with clothing belonging to her youngest son. Besides a warm fur cloak, there were kimonos and hakamas in rich heat-absorbent shades of blue and black. I felt terrible taking her kid's wardrobe, but she waved off my protests.

"In truth, if Genmaro is anything like his father and brothers, I expect he will be half a head taller and more before the new year. And with no other children behind him, I would have sent these on to another cousin anyway." She threw a sturdy dark wine colored kimono on the pile.

I supposed that due to the fact I needed to look the part of an Imagawa page, it was in a sense a uniform. Armor. At least it was physical armor. It seemed that I would need some mental armor as well - both Ohana and Susumu had reacted with identical expressions of horror when Yoshimoto said he was planning to visit Yoshiaki. I imagined that a large portion the conversation between Susumu and Yoshimoto included the Sengoku versions of the expression, ‘are you nuts?’

Yeah, Yoshiaki was beginning to sound like the monster under the bed.

I half expected Yoshimoto’s cousins to lock him in a room and perform an intervention, but all that they managed to do was convince him to spend the night with them, so that we would be awake and alert when we arrived at Yoshiaki’s hideout. We would take with us not only warmer clothing, but also a couple additional servants, as both Yoshimoto and Susumu agreed that in the case of the Shogun, “more is more.”

And ‘more is more’ as in this is beginning to feel like more and more of serious production. As in, if you screw this up, it is more and more likely that you and Yoshimoto will die. It was at that moment that I realized I didn’t actually know what a page did. It was not in my repertoire of disguises, so as we were preparing for the visit, I asked, "Do you have any particular instructions? I've never been a page before."

This request was at least partially prompted by my worry for his mental state. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, for every time I woke up, I saw him standing by the window, staring out at the moon. Indeed, that was where he was when I got up. The moon had set, but Yoshimoto was clinging to that window as if it were a portal to another land. If the wormhole were to appear, I suspect he would leap right into it, not caring about where it led (him, I should at least warn him about the dinosaur possibility). I tried again to get his attention. “Yoshimoto? What does your page do? Carry your luggage?”

With an attitude of reluctance, Yoshimoto finally turned his attention to me. "Stand behind me, in my shadow if possible, bow as low as you can manage, and keep facing down. Don't look at him."

Well, that's ominous. "And if, when I find Iekane?" Accusing the man in front of the Shogun would apparently be an enormous breach of protocol. Probably even considered treason.

"Do you think he will recognize you?" He set out little ceramic pots of make-up… hopefully not for me.

"Well... probably, yes. He knew me as both housemaid Kaya and courier Katsu, so whichever way I’m dressed, he’ll be familiar." Plus, he had, I was sure now, been in Sakai right before my accident, so he'd seen me recently.

He was quiet a moment. "Bow to the floor as soon as you enter, and don't rise unless I give you a direct order. Yoshiaki will think it’s his due anyway."

He sounds like a real charmer. He and Iekane probably deserved each other. Hopefully the floor wouldn’t be too cold there at. Hm. “And what is the name of this place?”

“Genba.” Yoshimoto bit off the word as if it tasted terrible.

Genba.

It was the first I had heard of it. So why was I suddenly feeling claustrophobic while my mind presented me images of a labarinthine path, dark corridors, and the smell of poison? I knew I had never been there before. The word, the place name, totally unfamiliar.

But… something…?

Genba.

Note: "Genba" will sound familiar to anyone who's read "A Mitsunari Night's Dream" as most of the action took place there. Katsu is just getting a deja vu from that other timeline. But the people who live in this Genba aren't exactly the same characters who lived in that other timeline, so it's not necessary to have read Mitsunari's story ... you haven't missed any vital information.

@bestbryn @selenacosmic @mllorei @akitsuneswife @lyds323 @tele86

#10things #10 things I hate about Mitsuhide #mitsuhide monday #ikemen sengoku #fanfic #ikesen fanfic #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen yoshimoto #oc katsuko #katsuverse

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poisonnxkki · 2 years

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Divination & The Ethics of Knowing🦋

^Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck (Available on Amazon)

What is Divination?

Divination is the practice of seeking knowledge or insight into a situation or on the future (source: google). Divination comes in many forms and can include many different types of tools (or no tools at all). The form of divination that you choose can be more accessible (you can find tarot desk in the most unusual places now) or it can be linked to a specific tradition. When researching what forms of divination you want to learn it is important to look into the origins and historical practices surrounding that form of divination. For example, although runes can be learned by anyone, they will have particular significance to someone who worships or works with the norse gods.

Why Learn a Form of Divination Anyway?

Divination is most commonly used to interpret and receive messages from deities or spirits. For example, you may use divination if you want to ask for a spirit's permission to do something. Divination is also commonly used to receive advice or insight into situations that are causing anxiety or stress. Whatever your reason for learning a form of divination is, it is fairly common to know at least one. The most popular in recent years has been cartomancy (specifically using either tarot or oracle cards).

Some other types include astrology, runes, bone throwing, dowsing (using a pendulum or rods), palmistry, scrying (fire, smoke, etc.), ceromancy, cloud divination and many more.

Ethical Implications When Divining for Others:

Divination, like everything, is something that should be taken with a grain of salt. Readings are not set in stone and the advice being given should be taken as nothing more than a suggestion. At the end of the day, the only thing that can make an impact in your life is you and although some readings may bring difficult news (trust me I've been there), how we react to them and what we do moving forward is more important than anything else.

When giving readings for others here are some things I like to keep in mind (this will be from a tarot reader's perspective):

How I understand a reading is only one interpretation, another reader may read the same cards completely differently

Readings should never instil fear in the recipient

My opinion and relationship with certain cards may not reflect their meaning for someone else- it is important to be neutral when reading for others and not let our own biases influence the interpretation

I never read for others without their explicit permission- this may be more of a personal preference rather than an ethical guideline but you never know what kind of wards people have in place so I just avoid doing it!

I only give readings on the topic that is requested- If someone wants a reading regarding a situation, I stay focused on their request. If the reading is about a job opportunity and the cards that are pulled are cards I associate with love, I will try to interpret them through the confines of the question rather than telling the recipient what I think about their love life.

A lot of this will likely be common sense to people and that's a good thing. Being able to give readings to other or having other request readings from you is both an honour and a good way to practice. If you decide to charge for your services then you may want to develop your own ethical guidelines. In my personal divination practice, I am in the process of developing a list of questions/topics that I refuse to divine on. The more experience you get, reading for yourself and for others, the clearer your personal ethical guidelines will become.

*All images are from Pinterest*

🖤For more information on tarot and how to read the cards check out this book: The Ultimate Guide To Tarot by Liz Dean

🖤For more information on ceromancy and scrying check out this book: The Book Of Candle Magic by Madame Pamita

🖤For more information on astrology and to get an analysis of your chart check out the website Cafe Astrology

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winterspiel · 1 year

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ﾟ｡What would you leave behind this year? ⋆｡⊹

Before the year ends, let’s wrap it up with a reading on what you would be leaving behind this year? Typing this down and publishing it took me a while as I am tapping into my energy if I’m okay or not tho hope this somehow vibe with y’all! Thank you so much on the last post!!;;

decks used: rider-waite tarot (traditional), spellcasting oracle, magick of you oracle

❅ ੈ ⋆｡⊹ ⋅ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

pls do take note, choose a pile carefully! you may be drawn to more than one pile, breathe in, take your time, and tap into your intuition. do pick what mostly draws you in!

these messages and the context of my readings are from intuition and practice. this is a general reading as well, so do take what only resonates. sending love ♡

feel free to give feedback as it’s very much appreciated!

❅ Yule

༘⋆‧˚ pile 1 ⊹ ⋅* ⟡

You’re mostly working in yourself. Putting yourself together and setting aside the effort on building with the right pieces that fit on that your work and for your growth.

Although your energy at most is kinda heavy, you may be going through something devastating or have inner battles you may not be openly sharing that you’re left tired to the drain. Rockbottom is the word. Though, this breakdown turns into a breakthrough.

Have you ever had that type of crying session, or even when there are no tears involved... You’ve just vented it all out, sorted out all your shiz, and just done with everything. After that staring into nothingness… you “feel” that numbness and overwhelmed blank feeling. You are the void itself.

But those who have gone through plenty of battles are those who know a lot of learning. This would be such a rollercoaster experience.

Though, this might turn you a bit timid after, as this may be a new slate for you to work on. But that’s okay! It would be rendered into new emotions and revelations would be harvested to handle this. Progress has been working for a long time already. This is part of the needed process of your growth. You’re set to move forward to change, and for the better. Cards are also saying to connect with your divine feminine energy or maybe a maternal or nurturing figure might help you out.

I can see this involves mostly yourself, or you may have been spreading yourself too thin. You’re doing too much of what you can give, Pile 1. Sadly, all the efforts you receive back are not equal to the effort you have exerted, as I have confirmed with the card: Maximus: “How can you feed others when your own table is empty?” – you are drained af. I also pulled this twice even after reshuffling. It is time to focus on yourself and take back your control. You may be putting up with your role too much— think about your needs. And you do seem to know that it’s time for taking care of your own now! It is time for your own flourishing. You cannot fully bloom if you do not till your own land with its needed nourishment.

Set your boundaries; “Free yourself” as said in the Liberation card. Some people may not have their best intentions in you, and you’re letting them have free access to more than what's needed with your private/intimate energy. Protect and cultivate your own space. It’s time to let go of those no longer serving their presence to your own growth. It would benefit you more than you’ll ever know.

Things that may help with your clarity may hit home, or you have your home close to your heart. A truth may be revealing itself before this year ends, or you might already know the answer Pile 1. Though you may be having a hard time facing the truth, as it is never truly easy to come to terms with something that might cause you pain. This message that came to mind was “from the crying, there would be realization”. You may be going through a rough closure or falling out with some relationships once you set your goal for your growth. People’s intentions may be clearer once you set boundaries (and it doesn’t benefit them pft). It would be a chance for you to have more clarity on your part. Travel may also be an option but mostly, it is time for yourself. Bit by bit you can eye the pieces that make sense, and eventually, everything will fall into place.

⟡

cards: 10 of Swords, Page of Cups, The Chariot, Queen of Wands, Travel, Truth, Home, Closure, Clarity, Maximus, Liberation

༘⊹

key words: sagittarius, fire signs, cancer, water signs, rockbottom, growth, self, boundaries, growth, detox/declutter

༘⋆‧˚ pile 2 ⊹ ⋅* ⟡

A decision would be cleared out, or a choice would be made after a long time that you have been contemplating it. Decisions and thoughts seem to be all over the place; cluttered. It doesn’t solely involve you Pile 2, there seems to be another party involved. This is a partner decision thing, a committed one. This seems to be love-centric or love-related, and I was called to pull more cards for clarification. Add to that, there seems to be another party involved as to why there's a cause of delay in the decision-making— not necessarily a third-party situation, but outside sources disrupting the energy. It may be family, financial, work, schedule, or a friend group that may be making you hesitant to choose or do that certain decision in mind.

There also seems to be a change in yourself (or your partner or those close to you) with the way that emotions or reactions would be handled in terms of commitment, even life factors. Doors are open that maybe this decision would push you to change, I can see assertion or softness. Either way, it would be changing intimacy in ways you wouldn’t even expect that: “huh, I don’t expect to see them that way, but I like it!” They may turn softer or clingy, or this decision may let you see another side of them handling taxes for example… Just giving you possible scenarios!

Though with the Hex card... (I am not making this up OMG, I also pulled this twice!!) It seems to be what you’re going through is a bit too much on your end. You’re already maxed out. It is time to let time flow its course. Even with the Empress reversed, you seem to be very drained regarding taking the nurturing role to others. Not necessarily you have to be female, but damn you’re really tested for this year. And you’re ready to let go of all that negativity of caring too much. How about your needs? You seem to be trampled over in terms of boundaries. You are so done.

“Be still and allow the enemy to reveal themselves”, there seems to be something getting in your way, but don’t let it get into you. You are the bigger person. Guard your heart. Resist succumbing to their low energy. You are a person who cannot be torn down easily, just walk away with grace. Use your energy instead of focusing on what's needed to be done. Turn to your loving energy to accompany people important to you, they are more worth it. Have “compassion for others”, and be reflective on all the challenges you face.

Your trust would truly be tested on this one, your perspective may shift, or by the year ends you already did see how the picture changed for you Pile 2! Though, it is also a reminder to be wary of who you put your trust in as well. Important to keep your ground and know to stand strong on who you are as a person. The previous discomfort may have taken a toll on you, so it is time for healing. You deserve it after a tiring situation for you.

You are also advised to travel or explore more on what you can do, and test the limits of what you can do. Or make use of your time to spend on things you enjoy and that would benefit your well-being. Try eating at that restaurant you’ve been eyeing for a while now. Tag your loved ones along it if that’s how you like spending your weekend. Been interested in crochet for a while? Why don’t you try, you may never know you’ll be good at it unless you dip yourself into it. We are often blinded by many options at hand, but once we do choose a decision. More often than not, little steps help us progress. If you do end up regretting it, at least you can pick yourself up again as you are surrounded by supportive energy. You alone are a loving energy to have around.

⟡

cards: Queen of Pentacles, King of Pentacles, 3 of Wands, Empress Rx, King of Cups, 7 of Cups, Trust, Healing, Travel, Hex, Ubuntu

༘⊹

key words: capricorn, earth signs, venusian, relationships, long-term plans, planning, decisions, hold your ground, guard your heart

༘⋆‧˚ pile 3 ⊹ ⋅* ⟡

You may be letting go of vanity or caring about your looks– you’re finally getting to that point where you’re tired of what other people think of you. You are no longer caring about how others view you, and you’re just going to go about how you want things to be. Head on, I feel a fiery energy or an all-out surge of emotions for this year. You're done for 2022, Pile 3.

You might have been in this internal struggle or going through a dispute about being underappreciated. Even I am overwhelmed with this pile. May this be lacking boundaries, or questioning your worth due to outside opinions. It is fine to listen to criticism but maybe you’re taking in too much and have gone digging a hole that it’s just too much. This has been a rough year for you to say the least.

You really want to take a step back as you want to reevaluate how you approach self-care, as methods before don’t seem to soothe you. Though, something temporary that can act like a bandage (a nice cup of your favorite drink, a hearty meal, or a face mask) can be a helpful patch to soothe that scratch. Though it is advised not to splurge for just instant comfort. And in these little ways that you acknowledge yourself, it may already be something big that you are proud of that adds as progress for your self-image and growth. This may be an ongoing internal struggle (or an inner victory even) that you don’t normally share outwardly as it’s not something you’re comfortable talking about. Trust seems to always be an important thing for you, but that had been tainted to you at some point this year.

“Be still and listen to the spirits”; It may also be time to tune in to your spirituality, look within and also acknowledge parts that you may not be that proud of. But do know that is still part of you, and you may just need a few re-adjustments on how you can improve and put your energy to a different use. Allow things to pass through and merge into something new; whether it be good or bad, it is part of the process.

Open your mind, maybe even talking it out with people can create connections. You can have more patience with yourself once you also realize the relatedness with others. Compassion for others can also seep through self-compassion. You can gain new perspectives and knowledge from them. If not, at least some weight is lifted off you. “Everything in perfect balance”— with all the negativity you may be feeling, you also need something to balance out all the distress you may be feeling, and through your reevaluation that you may be realizing what may work better for you. How you view the world and how you could handle yourself better.

You may need to take a look at your progress from another perspective or see it in the full picture. You are advised to literally let go of what’s cluttering your space as means of peace. Purge out on people you know that no longer adds to your peace of mind. It is time to spread your wings and take back your control. You radiate light and bright energy in your own ways that influence people’s energy, Pile 3. And that confidence is what you want to bring back into your life as well. It can benefit your skills and how you view your worth. You have your own way of doing things, and it seems so full of passion as it seeps through your actions. Once you do know that taking your time to rest and reconstructing your view sets you back to your authentic self... Doors would be opening for you and things would be clearer for you. Take it slow. By then you can flourish with a fresh perspective.

⟡

cards: Judgment Rx, 4 of Pentacles, 4 of Wands, 5 of Wands, 2 of Wands, The Fool Rx, Confidence, Trust, Passion, Prosperity, Eunoia, Ubuntu, Phenomenon

༘⊹

key words: air energy, fire energy, venus, purging, self-care, compassion, slowly but surely, trust the process

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helpinghanikan · 9 months

Text

Poison Control (NSFW)

Miguel O'hara x reader

Chapter 1: A warm feeling

Chapter 2: A long month

Chapter 3: Worth the wait

Miguel was a grumpy man even without the Lyla-mandated celibacy. Over the next few days, Miguel could only be found in his office room thing. Hunched over computers that showed the same information it displayed an hour ago.

When he did speak it was in a snapping tone and with barely a full sentence: Yes. No. Talk to Jess. Get out.

The entire facility was full of tension. As if Miguel may barge into the room at any moment and yell at everyone for sneezing too loudly. This made everyone scared to bring him anything, even if he specifically asked for it.

Even Hobie wasn’t willing to try Miguel. Stopping you in the hallway as you passed by.

“Wanna be my best mate and drop something off for me?” Hobie asked, holding a folder out as if you had already accepted.

“Depends, What do I get and what is it?” You ask, taking the folder and opening it up.

Hobie knows he’s a charmer. Giving you the smile that inspired audiences and protestors alike.

“Like I said, you get to be my very best mate. Just don’t tell Pav, aight?” He says, leaning forward to whisper the last part. “And it’s just some plans I’ve been making for the ‘team’ as a whole. Some improvements that’ll keep things on the up and up.”

You skimmed through the first paper. “Yeah, I can tell you right now Miguel isn’t going to give you access to our private wi-fi.”

He puts his hands together as if to beg. “That’s just an idea. Please take it to him, Please?”

“Sure, I’m heading that way anyway.” You add the file to the already growing pile of paperwork you were in charge of delivering. “But you better remember this favor, Hobie.”

Hobie agrees and you’re left to finally reach Miguel’s office. Pretty soon you were going to have to find another route to take. The one you were taking now went past too many spider-people. Somehow going past almost everyone that needed something dropped off. Pretty soon you were going to be just as annoyed as Miguel.

“Delivery!” You announced walking into the wide-open space.

Stepping up onto the platform his back stays facing you. Keeping away from you as the platform starts to rise from the ground. You busy yourself with putting the paperwork away in their respective areas until the platform is high enough.

“Whose it from?” Miguel finally asks. Although he doesn’t look at you he does work on the computer directly on your right.

“Who isn’t it from, is the better question. I think you have twelve field reports, at least three personal requests, and an entire plan Hobie mapped out. I’d save Hobie’s for last.” You say, gesturing over the documents.

“What’s the point of having all this technology if no one can send an email?” Miguel asks, flipping open the first file in front of him.

“More than half of these spiders don’t have computers in their universe. Let alone fingers to try and type it all out.” You explain.

Out of habit you reach out and touch the small of his back. Gently rubbing over the spot while reading through your own set of paperwork.

It’s three weeks at this point. Three weeks of avoiding each other and reminding yourself not to even try and approach him with those lips. A few times you’ve gotten close to a kiss. One night Miguel broke down and came back into the bedroom. Sliding up against your back and pressing his forehead between your shoulder blades.

He wanted to give you a kiss then. He wanted to roll his entire weight onto you and breathe deeply into your neck. He wanted to press deep inside and make you moan in a way he hadn’t been able to in a long time.

He wants to do that now. Looking over as the computers put a glowing tinge of orange over your face. He wants to reach out and cup your cheek, bring your lips to his, and give a kiss you’d be thinking about for days to come. Instead of doing that he completely ignores you.

It doesn’t take long for you to get annoyed about Miguel’s coldness. Dragging your hand from the small of his back down to his ass and giving him a squeeze.

“The more you ignore me,” You whisper warningly in his ear. “the harder I’m gonna have to work to break you. Give me a smile and I’ll stop.”

It should be no surprise that you don’t get that smile. Instead, you just get a softer glare than he usually does. But that doesn’t stop you from giving him a grin.

“So be it. I’ll be swimming if you wanna lose the attitude.” You said a kiss on the cheek that can’t reciprocate.

Miguel watches you walk from his office. This wasn’t much different from your regular life: Miguel choosing to bury himself in work and stress while you’re doing your best to dig him out. Sometimes you make a breakthrough and get him into the light, but most of the time you have to cut your losses.

Through the monitors Miguel watches you walk through the base. Switching between cameras as you leave the hallway, enter the elevator, and stop to have a conversation with Jess just before the elevator.

“How many are in the pool right now?” Miguel asked the air.

“I’m counting five not including your girl. Peter B brought MJ and their little tike to enjoy the amenities. I think we should start charging for those day passes.” Lyla explains, the cameras changing to the rooftop pool with five people milling around. “Gwen and Miles are the other two. Want me to kick them out?”

Miguel weighed the risk in his head. Peter was one of the few spiders he would consider a close friend, and MJ had invited Miguel to their universe several times by now. There was a bit of hesitation going with Gwen and Miles there. Miles was still somewhat of an outsider among the spiders, and nobody really cared about what Gwen had to say.

“No, let them stay. But don’t let anyone else in when I get there.” Miguel says, taking the same path you did out of the office.

“Have fun playing Baywatch!” Layla called.

At the very top of Miguel’s building was a recreational pool fit for a hotel. Ranging from three to ten feet deep with diving boards and even a slide. Another could be found several floors below but that was for training rather than fun.

Not many spiders made use of the recreational pool. Most never stayed on base long enough to make use of anything, let alone change and swim. Those that did tend to be from the younger generation. In Mayday’s case the very young generation.

“Forget spider, she’s a little fish.” MJ declared, following her floaty-covered daughter through the water.

“Little spider-fish!” Miles added, his arms open for Mayday to swim into.

You join Gwen and Peter on the lounge chairs. Gwen rubbed sunscreen over her arms while Peter laid back under the shade. Miles had told you about Gwen and Peter’s fear of the sun. Ironic considering Peter’s ginger wife and daughter.

“Don’t suppose you brought more refreshments?” Peter says the second your cooler is sat down.

“For you, always.” You say opening up the top and passing the first pop grabbed.

Miles and MJ were too focused on Mayday to notice the refreshments. Miles blew bubbles against Mayday’s cheeks while she giggled uncontrollably.

“She’s so big now, what are you feeding her?” You ask Peter.

“Oh, the usual; burgers, fries, and pizza,” Peter explains.

“My dad gave me the same thing. That’s how I got so strong,” Gwen adds, flexing her biceps for you to see.

You didn’t have the same insane senses that the spider-people did. When Peter and Gwen turned their heads you had no idea what it was about.

On the one hand, you shouldn’t have been surprised that Miguel decided to follow you. On the other hand, you had no way of knowing he’d pull out the special suit.

It was a little over a year ago that you picked up a new swimsuit for Miguel. It wasn’t something you went out of your way to find; it was just something that stood out at the store. Brought up to your quarters with the other shirts and pants Miguel practically begged you to pick up.

The suit in question was a dark blue Speedo. Thick enough that it could be compared to Olympic swimmer uniforms, but on him it was nothing but sin.

“Oh shit,” Gwen whispers, hand over her brows to block the sun.

“Language,” came Peter’s dad voice, although he was looking just as much.

Miguel dived in from the deep end. Tan skin and a dark blue line traveled under the water straight toward your end of the pool. He came up for air relatively close to Miles. Mayday reaches her hands out for her favorite scary uncle.

“That son-of-a-bitch.” You whisper.

“First; language. Second; what did he do?” Peter asks.

“The real question is what did she do,” Gwen explains, pointing straight at you as to demand a confession. “So, what’d you do?”

There’s a purity to the smile Miguel had. Supporting Mayday as she climbed over his shoulder and grabbed at his hair. Refusing to let go even as MJ reaches and tries to get her off.

The accusation Gwen laid at your feet hurt just a bit. Gwen was barely eighteen, what did she know about serious relationships? That Peter was silent made it so much worse. He looked at you, waiting for a response you didn’t want to give.

“I haven’t done anything. He needs to blame that stupid computer that’s making us celibate. He’s just pissed that I can kiss him, and he can’t do the same to me. So, no, Gwen, I haven’t done shit.” You say with your arms crossed in an attitude that Mayday might have given.

“Woah, okay,” Peter says, hands up and sitting to face you. “I’m getting the sense that you are stressed. Gwen didn’t mean it-.”

“Yes, I did,” Gwen interrupts.

“Gwen is gonna shut up now,” Peter says with a pointed look behind him. “We didn’t mean to hurt you in any way. But it seems like you and Miguel might be having problems. That being said, is there anything we can do to help?”

Mayday has finally released Miguel’s hair. Falling back from him and into the water. Miles practically panics trying to catch her while MJ only watches on and laughs. She knew her daughter’s durability and tendency to give everyone a heart attack whenever she could.

You sighed, having already exploded a little bit at your friends. You might as well say the entire truth.

“Miguel’s venom has been poisoning me every time we kiss or fuck. Lyla is making an antivenom, but we can’t do anything for a month for it to work. If we kiss or have sex or anything then there is a chance that I will be paralyzed for a few hours.” You explain quickly before you lose any courage.

There are a few seconds of silence before Gwen and Peter whip their heads to their respective partners. It’s only that you noticed this that they didn’t get the chance to call out.

“It’s just Miguel who does this. MJ and Miles are fine.” You quickly explain.

“So he’s taking his anger out on you?” Peter asks.

“Yeah, well, I mean kinda. I have been teasing him a bit over the last month.” You confess.

You could inspire a nation with the smile Gwen gave. “So I was right, it was your fault.”

“I will throw you into the pool.” You warn Gwen, although she was probably stronger than you by tenfold.

“Jokes on you, I know how to swim.” Gwen retorted. “But I get it. I’ve done the same thing to Miles when he visited my universe for the first time. It’s just so easy to mess with him, you know? Couldn’t help it.”

“Is that why Miles was complaining about meeting your dad?” Peter asks.

“If I have to squirm meeting his parents he has to squirm meeting mine.” Gwen declares although she does look to Miles with genuine appreciation.

Gwen and Miles’s relationship was difficult in a unique way. If everything had gone right in the world they would have never met, never would have been on the same planet as each other. But they did meet, and they did fall into the teenage version of love. Long distance takes on a whole new meaning when you live in different universes.

“Anyway,” Peter says, trying to get everyone back on track. “It sounds like you and Miguel aren’t fighting each other. You’re fighting the issue and are just accidentally hitting each other while doing it.”

Gwen shared your look of confusion.

“Look, when it comes to relationships it’s not you vs. Miguel. It’s you and Miguel vs. the problem, make sense? Like, you’re projecting your annoyance onto him because you can’t physically yell at the problem and vice versa.” Peter explains, hands together as if he were giving a sermon.

“And I just made everything worse by messing with him so much.” You say mostly to yourself.

“Personally, I think you and Miguel are back on even ground,” Gwen says, looking over the pool at Miguel.

The little group in the pool had gone their separate ways: Mayday leaned back into her mother as the two slowly moved through the water. Miles had made his way to the end of the pool, fiddling with the water guns left on the edge. And Miguel seemed to have been waiting for you to look back over at him.

He chose to leave the pool from the steps closest to you. Walking up slowly from the water that slides off of his skin. His hand slides through his dark brown hair in an uncommon gesture for him. It’s only because of that that you knew he was strutting so close on purpose.

His eyes stay on you as he walks by. Smirking at your pursed lips and enjoying the effect he has on you with just a choice of clothing. It took quite a bit of willpower for him to keep from turning around. But he knew your eyes never left his ass and the speedo doing the bare minimum to cover it.

Gwen stands from her lounge chair. Stretching before she heads over to Miles and for a duel.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She says as a way of goodbye.

MJ waves over to Peter. Mayday starting to get fussy from water in her nose.

“Remember; you guys are a team,” Peter says with a gentle knack against your shoulder.

No matter your age, or experience, personal relationships always seem so difficult. Sitting in your lounger and watching these two relationships at different stages. Both were so different in both age and situation, but both seem to have it more figured out than you.

Being the prickly lady at the pool quickly got annoying. Seeing Miguel at the corner bar, leaning forward on the surface with his back towards you.

With a ‘fuck this’ attitude you got up from the chair. Striding towards Miguel loud enough that there was no way he wouldn’t have heard you.

“We should talk,” You whispered while passing by.

He follows you into one of the private changing rooms. It was nothing fancy; just a large bathroom complete with a shower, toilet, sink, and a bench. The chill inside creates goosebumps on your skin.

“Are you okay?” He asks, wanting to get the important part out of the way first.

“No, I’m ticked and just want this month to be over.” You start. “I’m sorry I’ve been grabbing you and kissing you. I should be doing that to the problem, not to you.”

Miguel’s eyes squint as he takes in everything you say. “Is that a euphemism? Because I speak two languages and that didn’t make sense in either of them.”

“No! I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I teased you and I’m sorry I was making this harder than it needed to be.” You explain.

“I guess I am also sorry, then. MJ pointed out that I’ve been an asshole more than usual. I guess it took someone other than Lyla to get me to understand.” Miguel explains, taking a seat on the bench. “I’m sorry I’m doing this to you.”

Great, now you’re both emotional.

You kneel in front of him. Lifting his head gently to look into your eyes. “If you were really sorry you’d wear that suit more often.”

The smile you get from Miguel is worth the little lesson you got from Peter. He leans against your hand, looking down at you and starting to move forward…

“We still have a week,” You remind him, although you wouldn’t pull back if he kept moving.

He swears in Spanish and pulls away, leaning against the wall. “You are going to be in so much trouble when this is over.” He warns you, a gleam of evil planning in his eye.

“That goes both ways, baby,” You remind him with a smile no less evil than his. But there’s no point, and no fun, in just threatening each other in a bathroom.

“Come on,” You say now standing, your hand reached out for him to take. “I want a sangria and you make them best.”

Miguel doesn’t take your hand.

“I’ll meet you out there. Just give me a few minutes first,” Miguel says, only then do you see his problem.

Miguel likes to act like the manliest man in all the universes. That doesn’t stop him from getting a hard-on by simply looking down the front of his girl’s bathing suit. That you had insisted on touching him every way you could didn’t make it any easier.

“No, I can still help.” You say stepping back until you could hop up onto the counter.

Miguel was about to remind you that he couldn’t really touch you. Those words die on his lips as your legs open for him.

“Take it out, Miguel, I wanna see how you get yourself off.” You ordered. Middle fingers gently sliding up and down your covered slit.

He doesn’t hesitate in standing up. The wet suit is too small to simply be slid down like underwear. It gave you a bit of a show as his thumbs hook into the straps of his suit. Sliding them down those tree trunk thighs until gravity could take over. The dark blue fabric around his ankles almost trips him when he sits back down.

Fun fact; Miguel wore a cup in the spider suit. Almost every spider did when it came to those skin-tight suits. Not just as a way of protection but more as a form of modesty. The bad guys were already distracted by the notorious spider-ass, no reason to make that worse by making them aware of a spider’s size.

Miguel holds his cock gently. Just a shade lighter than the rest of his body, uncircumcised, and large enough to make a girl’s jaw ache. Just watching him gently rub his thumb over the head made this month so much worse.

You clear your throat to get you both back on track. “Start slow for me. From the tip to the base and then back up.”

He does as he was told. Setting himself back against the wall and starting to stroke.

His eyes never leave yours. Dark brown with a hint of red baring right into your deepest part. You look right back at him. Smiling as he strokes at a tempo you try to match with your own fingers.

“More, please,” Miguel begs, eyes sliding from yours to where your hand works.

It’s a simple movement to slide your cover to the side. Your pussy is warm when you touch it. So wet your fingers slide right in without a second’s hesitation. By Miguel’s open mouth, you could guess that he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Fuck, Miguel, I miss you so much.” You gasp out, finding your clit and flicking it quickly.

Miguel has never been much of a talker when it comes to sex. This isn’t to say Miguel is quiet, quite the contrary. He’ll moan and groan into your ear. It’s as if his voice is trying to reach every pitch it possibly could: from the low grunt when he penetrates deeply to a high-pitch outcry when he cums.

You get to hear the surface level of those sounds when he masturbates. Both of you tried to stay in time with each other but failed rather quickly when the pleasure got to be just a bit too much.

It’s been a minute since you’ve had an orgasm. It makes it easier to find and climb toward your peak.

Heat grows from between your legs and into your chest. Pressing from the core of your body into your breasts, nipples, and down your legs. Within a few seconds, the orgasm has built itself up into a warm, tight, squeeze.

Miguel isn’t doing much better. His head was thrown back, his hair sweaty and his free hand in his mouth. All of this and he still couldn’t be quiet as he came in his hand. White cum coating his hand and hitting the floor.

It’s quiet for the next minute or so. The only sound came from your combined heavy breathing and the distant laughter from the pool area.

“I love you so much,” Miguel says, his flaccid cock still in his hand.

“I love you, too. But we can do this,” You say, hopping from the counter. “You still owe me that drink. Actually, I think you owe me two drinks now.”

#reader insert #into the spider verse #spider-man #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #not beta read #Miguel knows he's hot #domestic fluff

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