#its looking a lot different than they expected it to be and the farm was a nice change | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secretsofblackthornhall · 2 years

Text

Magnus to Alec

Dear delectable muffin of love,

I hope this perfumed letter finds you well, and that you and R and M are having an excellent time in your exotic journey to…well, I believe the term you used was “upstate.” I have heard legends of this Upstate, but never did I know that my family would see for themselves its mountains, its twee farm markets, its River of the Son of Hud.

More to the point, I hope the kids are enjoying their visit with Grandma, and I hope you are referring to Maryse as “Grandma” as often as possible because I enjoy the face she makes when we do. On a less pleasant but more urgent note, I hope you’ve had a chance to talk with Luke about the Cohort/Idris stuff.

But do not tire your beautiful hands with a written reply. I will be heading to this “Upstate” myself to join you later this afternoon, as I am relieved to report that the business with the Blackthorn kids’ cursed house is more or less resolved. Although it was touch and go, let me tell you.

I don’t think I even showed you the note Jem sent, which said, “Emma and Julian are trying not to bother you about their house, and that is very nice of them, but unlike them, I feel absolutely no compunction about bothering you, and so this is me, now, in this note, bothering you. We are in need of a warlock and you are the best one I know for this. We would all really appreciate your help.”

As is often the case, I was both mildly annoyed and mildly impressed with Jem, who managed to be both very kind and also to remind me that I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa and will rush to their aid when I can. Because I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa, I wrote back quickly saying I would come.

I know what you’re thinking: “How could Tessa need a warlock when she is a warlock?” But different warlocks have different expertises, as you know, and while Jem was flattering me that I was the best choice, the reality is that I have dealt with a lot more curses than Tessa. That’s what comes of spending the past decades hiring your services out to any miscreants who come by, instead of more intelligently living a calm life as a magic researcher in the Spiral Labyrinth. Tessa always was the smartest of us.

Anyway, I must give Emma and Julian credit. I expected to arrive and find them banging the cursed objects against one another or something, but they had set up a decent enough protective circle and even found a spell. It was an old, kind of generic spell that I have found to rarely be of much use with actual curses in the modern day, but still.

Rather stupidly I set up a basic workaday curse-breaking circle of my own, and gave it a try. “Stupidly” because I had forgotten who did the curse in the first place. Your worst ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, all-around demon enthusiast and dilettante necromancer. How in bed with demons was Benedict? He literally died of demon pox — which if you do not know, because you are beautifully pure, my Alec — is a sexually transmitted demon disease.

But I forgot that in the moment, so I was surprised when the curse put up an impressive resistance. It writhed and thrashed and struck out, like Max being lowered into a bath. The cursed objects were all glowing, kind of neon green, where they were tied to the magic, and eventually I realized I was going to have to carefully unknot each object from the curse, one at a time.

I managed the flask, the dagger, and one of the candlesticks (don’t ask me to explain how THAT happens), but after that I was stuck.

It’s not a great look for a warlock to strike a big magic pose and then nothing happens. I am sure I looked ridiculous, like a mundane magician who couldn’t understand why the rabbit wasn’t coming out of the hat. Julian and Emma are very polite and only waited patiently but I felt quite silly.

And then I lost all my focus temporarily because the door opened and Kit walked in. He sort of looked around at the scene and finally said, “Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick, I see.”

“Purple is always an appropriate color for a warlock,” I said. “It is the decorative color of magic.”

Emma, of course, said, “Your magic is blue,” because she is an inveterate smartass.

“Maybe he meant me,” said Julian. “I’m wearing a purple hoodie. Also because it is the decorative color of magic,” he added with a nod in my direction, which I appreciated.

“Maybe you could put the objects on a purple tablecloth instead of a white one,” Kit said, and while he was talking he walked out to get a closer look.

And when he got close to the circle, Alec, I felt the strangest sensation. A feeling of…power, I suppose, kind of humming in Kit. You know the way your body kind of vibrates when there’s a really really low sound? That rumbling feeling? It was like that, but silent. I’ve never had that experience any of the times I’ve seen Kit before. I could also tell that Kit didn’t feel anything unusual. Or if he did, he was surprisingly casual about it.

So I suggested he come join us around the circle and add his focus to the magic. “Especially since Jem and Tessa have snuck off somewhere rather than helping out with this round.”

“They’re out in the garden with Mina,” Kit said, a little defensively.

I redirected everyone’s attention to the objects and established a somewhat souped-up version of my go-to curse breaker. I went for the other candlestick and BANG. No resistance anymore! There was a big burst of blue and all the knots of magic tying the objects to the curse broke into pieces.

Everyone blinked a bunch. Eventually I said something like, “Well, that was more what I was hoping for. I guess four people made the difference.”

I checked. The curse seemed…gone. I was actually a little shaken. I haven’t mentioned it to Tessa and Jem, because I don’t want to make a big deal of it, but I think it worked because of Kit. Not because we needed a fourth person. Something is going on with him, some magic that is totally outside his awareness. I assume it has something to do with being a descendant of the First Heir, but I’ve never been an expert on that kind of faerie enchantment. (And do burn this letter, after you get it — very few of us know about Kit being the First Heir, and it’s best if we keep it that way.)

It makes me sad to think of it. Kit is a good kid who deserves a good, ordinary life. I know that’s what Jem and Tessa want for him, more than anything, after the chaos that was his growing up. But I am not sure he will have a choice in the matter. Fae may not let him choose.

Julian reached out and took hold of the flask. He held it for a moment, frowning.

“What?” said Emma.

“Nothing,” Julian said. He looked up at me. “Is that it? No more curse?”

“No more curse,” I said. “I hope.”

And then down from the ceiling drifted Rupert the Ghost. I never met Rupert Blackthorn when he was alive. I don’t know what to think of him. On the one hand, he seems to have been an innocent who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a spirit trapped in a house he never lived in because of evil he never knew about while he lived. On the other hand, he met Tatiana Lightwood and thought that lady seems like marriage material, so there must have been something weird going on with him.

Rupert had been hovering and he descended until he was right above the table. He was staring at something on it.

“What is it, Rupert?” said Emma. “What are you looking at?”

Kit followed his gaze and started pushing the objects out of the way. “It’s the ring,” he said.

Emma said, “What ring?”

Indeed, what ring? There wasn’t a ring among the cursed objects. But there was a ring on the table now. Kit picked it up. It was a silver ring, etched with a design of thorns and set with a black stone.

“Blackthorn family ring?” Kit said.

“It’s not how family rings usually look,” Emma said.

“Wedding band?” said Kit.

“Shadowhunters don’t use wedding rings,” said Emma, but Julian had that thoughtful look he gets.

“I am bound here by a silver band,” he said softly.

“Shadowhunters can exchange wedding rings,” I said. “They just aren’t expected to. But they can if they want.”

Whatever it was, it was Rupert’s. He had followed Kit’s hand as it picked up the ring, and now he was reaching out for it with a thin ghostly hand. He wrapped it around the ring, which did absolutely nothing since he’s a ghost – Kit just kind of held it there for him. Then his eyes closed (Rupert’s, I mean) and he got this expression on his face of relief and gratitude and peace, and he just…faded out, right there. Just slowly vanished and was gone. No more Rupert. On to hopefully not being reunited with his wife, since she was also his jailer for over a hundred years.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Emma said quietly.

“That’s for the best,” I said. “He was never supposed to be here at all.”

“Well, Rupert, if you can hear me,” said Emma, “it was nice being haunted by you.”

“Five stars,” said Kit solemnly, putting the ring back on the table. “Would be haunted again.”

And all the candles went out in the room at once. Which, if it was Rupert, was a nice touch. Though it may have just been a draft.

We all filed out of the room quietly. “It’s different,” Julian said. He was looking around at the hallway. “I can feel it already.”

I could feel it as well. There was a lightness that had not been there. A kind of pleasant hominess that a good house conveys and that had always been absent from Blackthorn Hall in the time I’ve known it. It’s hard to describe, but all at once it felt like Julian and Emma’s home, in a way it hadn’t before. I’ve always known it as a forbidding place, and then as a hideous ruin, but for the first time I thought, this was a place the Blackthorns could fill with joy.

And I’m certain they will.

See you very soon, my love. I shall kiss you until a toddler forces us apart to pay attention to him. So plan for a kiss of about 30-60 seconds, based on previous experience. But I wish, as always, that it could be endless.

Love,

Magnus

#sobh #secrets of blackthorn hall #rupert blackthorn #magnus bane #alec lightwood #julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #kit herondale #made a change to the ring

4K notes · View notes

junpei-iori-ace-defective · 9 days

Text

Thoughts about Hades 2 as a tech test player

Everything is under a read more bc. 1. Long post. 2. Spoilers for Hades 2.

1. The game is fucking s m o o t h. Loads quicker and everything feels more stream lined.

2. It’s somewhat harder than Hades 1. Idk if it’s bc of not having a super buffed character but I am definitely finding it a little more challenging. Not a bad thing though!

3. Melinoë plays a little different from Zag which is to be expected! We now have a sprint, spells, and new weapons. Already loving how regular casts and specials don’t have a cast limit. Also love the twin blades. Fast weapon go brrrrrrr.

4. I’m definitely interested in seeing what they do with gathering, farming, ect. Great way to add more stuff to do in and after runs.

5. This ties into 4 but, I love how there’s a bunch of stuff to do in Crossroads! In Hades 1, I never spent too much time in the house. I was always dashing through to do another run when not stopping to talk to people. The Crossroads is definitely a nice cool down area for after runs!

6. THE ART. Man everyone looks so good!!!! I can tell some of the sprites are still being worked on but everything still looks so damn clean. I love how everyone has backgrounds in their portraits!

7. APOLLO, HEPHAESTUS, HESTIA, SELENE. All of them look and sound so cool. Really looking forward to seeing their full boon lists and how they play with different weapons ect.

8. I’m really happy to see some of the OG gods returning. All of them look so sick and every time I see a boon from the first game I go “YOOOOOO”. Also Artemis physically appearing is sick as hell.

9. Really excited to get to know the new crew better! They’re all really compelling already!

10. The areas seem to be shorter. Like, I’m going through less rooms to hit the boss room. Idk if it’s bc it’s a tech test or if it’s intentional.

Speculation and questions

1. WHAT DID CHRONOS DO. ARE THEY DEAD? WHERE ARE THEY? Istg if Zag is dead I am going to c r y.

2. WHERE IS THAN, MEG, ACHILLES, NYX, EVERYONE FROM THE FIRST GAME? WHERE ARE THEY?

3. Hecate said something about Hermes trying to find a way to get from the underworld to Olympus. There was also some stairs going blocked by a ward in the weapon/training room. I wonder if there’s gonna be more areas to go through. Like. Erebus, Elysium, Asphodel, Tartarus, House, then Olympus? Maybe Olympus is gonna have its own areas completely. This would make sense for why the areas are shorter. Really interested to see what they do.

4. If the game looks like this already in its tech test stage….. this might be my game of the year if it gets a full release this year. (I love you P3RE but holy shit Hades 2).

There’s a lot more I could talk about, but I am tired and this is a long post lmao.

#l.txt #hades 2 #hades 2 spoilers #hades #hades 2 technical test #idk how I even managed to get accepted into the tech test but I’m really glad I did!#its super fun!#long post

90 notes · View notes

kedreeva · 2 months

Note

So I live somewhere where certain foods aren't readily available. I'm looking to buy a house - smallish house, biggish land is an option(cheaper). I've never kept anything more ~interesting~ than snakes. I went to a restaurant in a city a few years back where I tried duck for the first time and it instantly became my favorite food. Would it be weird to uh, keep ducks for eating? I've no problem with butchering but I'm worried I'd get attached to MY ducks.

I can't really answer if you'll get attached, because I don't know you or your penchant for getting attached. I can answer that it's not weird at all to raise ducks for meat. There are entire breeds of ducks that are great to raise for meat (like muscovies or pekins). Personally, I prefer the muscovy breed because I find them to be adorable (lots of cool color morphs! they do a little butt waggling dance in a circle!), GREAT moms who take on HUGE clutches no problem, they don't require or play in large amounts of water the way pekins do, and they're not as noisy (they hiss, they don't quack). The boys also get quite large, without getting super fat the way proper meat pekins do.

Like that's just. Terrible. I assume they get belly rub sores. The meat is probably good, the fat is probably good cooking. But at what cost?

I can also say that most people do get somewhat attached to animals they raise for food, but I think that's an important part of it. Part of raising animals for food is understanding that you're giving them the best life you can up to the point of butcher, which is often better than whatever life they would have in a factory farm. Part of raising food animals is caring enough about them to do well by them, as the only gratitude you can show to them in exchange for their life. Part of raising animals for food is understanding that you are going to take the life of another creature, and I think that attachment is how we understand the weight of that decision.

Personally, I think that it's right and good for people to get attached to their livestock. I think it helps them remember that they're caring for a living creature that has needs and feels pain. A creature that is deserving of excellent care while alive. I see a LOT of people allowing animal suffering in the fowl world because "it's just a chicken" and the babies "only cost a couple bucks," and "they can be replaced." IMO, it's a particularly callous attitude to have, toward an animal whose life will be taken to provide for you. Even one whose life is dedicated to providing for you while living (eggs, milk, wool, honey, etc) deserves better than to be considered a Thing that can be allowed to suffer merely because it is replaceable.

Lastly, I can say that (for me at least) there's often a major difference between the attachment you feel toward a pet and a livestock animal. Part of it is expectations going in, part of it is time. For pets, the expectation is that you will have that animal for the duration of that animal's average life expectancy, and you can plan accordingly for allowing yourself emotional investment. For livestock, the expectation is that you will only have the animal until its butcher date, which is often quite early in their life. A healthy, well-kept dog you can probably expect a good 10 years from, a cat nearly twice that. The average butcher age for a pekin duck is 3 months old (for comparison, they have an average lifespan of 5 years before their bodies give out from growth and weight issues), for muscovies 3-6 months (with an average lifespan of 20 years). There's just not as much time to get attached in the first place, unless you're getting attached to your breeders.

So, is it weird to raise ducks for food? Absolutely not. Are you going to get attached? I hope so, at least a little bit. And I hope that you feeling that connection to your food source helps you to take excellent care of them until their time comes, and that it compels you to make their end as quick and painless as possible.

#asks #animal death for ts #animal death #food #I haven't personally eaten any peafowl #but I have sold several of them to go as food before #I have raised meat chickens and meat turkeys #and I raise quail now #and there's attachment to some degree #it is harder than going to the grocery store that's for sure #but it's worth it imo to know exactly what care your food animals got

105 notes · View notes

romana-after-dark · 1 year

Text

The Wrong Way: Chapter 1

Raider!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Raider!Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Chapter 2

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, attempted sexual assault (not Joel), somno, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot)but fair warning, major age gap

This is a reader fic, reader is early 20's, Joel is 40's at this point, reader is small enough that the men can lift her, but these are strong men. Reader is also refered to as little one, little girl ETC, but that's more in reference to her age/innocence than physical size.

*******************

The first time you met Joel Miller was a flurry of events.

“C’mon Joel, I don’t have it this time but I promise, next month its yours”

Jaimie, your dad, stood in front of Joel, who was unarmed but guarded by his group of fellow raiders who had guns pointed at Jaimie and his men. “Next time you’ll owe me nearly double, I’m tired of waiting, I got a reputation to uphold.”

Jaimie owed Joel money, and a lot of it. The amount of land Joel controlled was expansive, a damn near kingdom at this point that FEDRA didn’t bother with since it was so far out in the middle of nowhere. Joel and his gang of raiders made a near Viking-like living out here. You could either pay Joel monthly with small amounts of food or resources and in return you have a modicum of protection from him and other raiders as Joel’s men patrolled areas under their control, or Joel just raids you and takes everything you have. Easy enough choice. Problem was, if Joel’s men raided your farm or town, in general, they didn’t kill you if you didn’t try to fight. However, if he didn’t get what he expected from you, he was none too thrilled about using his men's resources to protect people who weren’t paying, and that debt could easily end up with someone dead, and that’s how Joel came to your dads house.

“Fine” Joel grumbled, turning to one of his men, a tall redhead. “Kill him”

“Wait!” Your dad shouted, and Joel held up a hand to stop the gunman.

“I’m listening”

“I have a daughter” Jaimie offered.

Joel narrowed his eyes at that. “You think I need help getting my dick wet?” He began to turn to the red haired man again, when your dad shouted the words that really piqued Joel’s interest.

“She’s a virgin!”

Jaimie continued, motioning for one of his men to get you from where you were hiding in the hall. “You can have your way with her, as long as you want, knock off some of what I owe you, and next month I’ll have the rest, unless of course you want her again.”

You’re pulled in before the two groups, and had the distinct feeling you were on display.

A man to the right of Joel, looking a little younger than him but only by a few years, with longer, dark hair, finally spoke. “You pimping out your own daughter?” He said with disgust.

Your dad glared at him. “Judge me all you want, Tommy, not all of us have powerful family to protect us” he turned back to Joel.

Joel held out a hand, stopping the interaction, then turned to you. His gaze was intense, focussed, harsh, and you couldn’t help but be afraid. You were used to this, of course, your dad using you as a bargaining tool, bad men who had used you and hurt you, leaving bruises and scars that were visible even from where Joel stood, but Joel was different, Joel was powerful, Joel was a cold blooded killer, and was not someone you wanted to upset or god forbid disappoint when he took you; you might end up with a bullet in the head if he wasn’t happy with a blowjob.

Joel scanned you, taking in your body and no doubt the marks that littered your skin. “You let them do that to her?” He referenced the bruises.

Your dads hands were still raised. “Other men have used her mouth, but nothing other than that. Some men just want to toss her around, rough her up a bit, get themselves off like that, but you’d be the first inside her.”

“Joel.” The younger man spoke with a warning. “Don’t”

“I’ll do damnwell whatever I please” Joel grumbled, turning to your dad. “Mouth only, I’ll see if she’d worth buying more off after that.”

Jaimie nodded. “Sure! You can rough her up too, if you want, that’s extra, of course-”

“Shut up, I’ll decide the price when I’m done with her.” Quickly, Joel strode over to you and hanked you out of the other man’s grasp, half-dragging you to another room, your dad calling out to you not to mess this up.

Joel grabs you by the neck and shoves you to your knees, the cold, hard floor stinging against your kneecaps. You try your best to suppress the shaking fear inside you and play good little whore, reaching up to undo his belt buckle but Joel smacks your hands away, yanking you by your hair to look at him.

“Listen to me, sweetheart.” Despite the pet name, his tone was harsh and condescending. “I don’t need you to do anything, you’re just a warm, wet hole for me to get off with, got it?”

You nod.

“Just stay still and this will be over soon enough. Hands behind your back, now.” He demanded and you did as you were told, holding both your hands behind you and opening your mouth.

Joel took his cock out, and an involuntary whimper escaped you; you’d never been with a man this big, and if he liked you, he was supposed to deflower you? How was all that supposed to fit?

Joel must’ve seen the fear in your eyes. “I’ll start slow, but after that, I ain’t taking it easy on you, little girl.”

You nod quickly, thankful for even small mercies.

Joel kept his word, sliding into you slowly, carefully, pausing when you gag, and allowing you to adjust when his full length was inside. Tears pricked at your eyes, it hurt so bad, but you needed to do good. If Joel didn’t like you, whatever you dad would do as punishment would be way worse than this.

He pulled himself all the way out, and told you to take a breath. “This is where the fun begins”. When he thrust his dick inside you, you heaved so hard that if you had eaten anything, you would’ve thrown up all over him, spit spilling out of your mouth mixed with stomach bile, your scalp stinging from his painful grip on your hair.

“Fuck yeah, gag on it” You can hear him say above you, and it’s not like you have a choice, continuing to make a mess on him and yourself, the drool dripping down your chin.

“Such a pretty little mouth” he grunts with each thrust. “Wonder what that tight little cunt would feel like.” You can’t help but whimper, knowing how much it would hurt to feel Joel stretching you open. His breathing becomes heavier. “Don’t know if I can have you just once, princess, just look at you…” His fingers entangled themselves deeper into your hair, holding you still as he fucked your face. “Might just have to keep you, be my little pocket pussy to use whenever I want, you want that? Hm?” When you don’t respond, you keep your eyes tightly closed, as the pain in your throat grows.

Joel huffs a laugh when you don’t respond, not that you could say much of anything either way. “Well, you don’t really have much of a choice. But wouldn’t it be better? Only me? No more random men? Of course, I’d fuck you, be the first one inside you…” His pace was faltering, imagining breaking you open, your blood on him… “Fuck!” Joel cums in your mouth with no warning, and you begin to cough and choke, cum and spit falling out of your mouth and he pulls you off him by your hair, throwing you to the ground.

You lay there, heaving and coughing, face covered in spit, tears and cum and maybe a little blood, your throat burns and your just want to curl up and cry, but Joel is pulling you up. “Let's go” he’s yanking you around again, and you stumble to the door, feeling somewhat like a rag doll. Before opening, however, Joel stops, wiping his sleeve roughly on your face. “Can’t let them see what a pretty mess you make, princess.”

When he pulled out outside, where it seems the tensions hadn’t eased, Joel announces he’s taking you.

Your dad immediately protests, and for a moment you think he might actually care about you, until he gives his reason, being that he sells your mouth for extra money, and Joel can’t take that away from him.

“I’ll wipe your debts clean” Joel isn’t even looking at him, yanking you to where his men had loaded resources onto their horses.

“But that’s-”

“And the next three months free.”

Your dad seemed to recognize that Joel wanted you, and tried to trade for more and Joel hoped on his horse, never letting go of your arm. Effortlessly, he reached under your arms and pulls you up onto the horse, and you suddenly realize the weight of the predicament. Joel was taking you, and you weren’t coming back. He was going to fuck you until he was tired of you, then throw you away, if he doesn’t kill you. You were never going to see your friend or your brother again.

“Joel, come on, she’s my only daughter” You dad tried one more time, and you begin to squirm in Joel’s lap, wanting out. “She’s worth a little more than that, untouched.”

“Dad, please, don’t”

Joel wraps an arm around you and points a gun at your dad's head. “Three months, and I don't blow your brains out right now.”

Raising his hands, Jaimie backs down, giving up.

“Lets go” Joel says to the younger man from before, and turns his horse around.

You hear your name called from the house, and turn to find your brother running outside.

“ZACH!” You scream for help, the fight in you kicking in, desperately trying to get out of Joel’s arms. The horse takes off, and you turn to see Zach getting on his own and starting after you and your dad telling him to stop.

Turning around, in one movement, Joel turns your head into his chest to cover your ears, and shoots.

You scream, and turn to see your brother fallen off the horse, laying still.

The first time you saw Joel Miller, he fucked your face, bought you, kidnapped you, and killed your brother in a span of ten minutes.

“One stop princess, then we can go home, and you get to be my little toy.” Joel spoke, his breath hot in your ear, as if he was your husband taking you home after a wedding, not the man who just uprooted you from everything you know.

The stop, as it turned out, took 2 hours to get to, and you were exhausted and in shock by the time you, the younger brunette and the redhead separated from the group. Joel had tied up your arms in front of you, not that you could escape even if you tried. Joel was much stronger than you. You were nearly nodding off, Joel’s hold on you keeping you upright, the adrenaline rush leaving you bone tired, when you heard a woman’s voice.

“You trafficking girls now, Joel?”

You open your eyes wearily to find a woman on a horse with two others flanking her, she had dark skin and her hair was in braids, eyeing Joel with disgust.

Joel’s hand ran across the top of your chest, closer to your collar bone but enough to make your whimper. It was a display, more than anything, meant to get a rise out of the woman. “What would you do if I was?”

“Not much I can do, it seems.” She seethed.

“Relax, Maria. Her dad was the one was selling her, I bought, she’s staying with me.”

You were dreary, unable to keep your eyes open, only listening to the voices.

“And that’s supposed to be better?”

You could feel Joel shrug. “Maybe, maybe not. But she’s not getting passed around like she was at her dads. We ain’t making a habit of it, if that makes you feel any better.”

Joel motioned the redheaded man over, who Joel referred to Nick. “Take her, just up the hill there, out of earshot, but where I can see her. Do. Not. Touch.”

Falling asleep against your best attempts to stay awake, you feel yourself getting picked up and handed off into another's arms. Over the next few hours, you were in and out of sleep, unable to fully rest but unable to stay away either. Passed back to Joel, who you only knew was him from the smell of his leather jacket, and another long ride for god knows how long, you finally awaken when Joel passes you down from the horse and into the brunette man’s arms before climbing down and reclaiming you. You felt like an object they just passed around as needed, no regard for you. You open your eyes in front of a large house, trying to take everything that had happened in the last few hours, but between your sleep addled brain and the general shock of it, you found yourself unable to. This is where you’d stay for the remainder of your short life, Joel rapeing you and letting god knows who else do the same until you die. Joel starts pulling you inside.

“Please” You whimper before you can stop yourself.

Joel thrust you up against the door, his face right next to yours and his beard rubbing against your skin, burning it. “What was that, little one?”

But you don’t reply.

“Joel…” the younger man says from behind the two of you.

“Shut up, Tommy.” He pulls you back, opening the unlocked door. “You ain’t fucking in charge here. I paid good money for her.” He snaps to Tommy, his large hand around the back of your neck tightening, making you whimper. “And I’m bout to get my money's worth.”

“I know” Tommy steps forward, carefully, like he has experience cooling his leader down. “We just road 4 fours, maybe you should wait, you’re tired-”

“You calling me old?” Joel fully turned around, his hand moving to the front of your throat, pressing your back into his front.

“No, that ain’t what I’m saying, Joel. I just mean you got her as long as you want her, no need to do it tonight, you can enjoy yourself more later.” Tommy’s eyes flickered over to yours, and you saw just a smidge of sympathy before they went back to Joel. “She’s had a long night, Joel, she just lost everything. Give her one night, please?”

You stood there in Joel’s arms, your hands still tied in front of you, feeling the rapid rise and fall of Joel’s chest, praying to whomever that you can have this; if Joel took your virginity tonight, you were sure you’d simply break.

Grabbing your bundled hand, Joel begins dragging you inside, and you see why the door wasn’t locked. In the living room, several more men were sitting inside: some drinking, some playing games, some just… sitting. Joel turns to them “She is mine, no one fucking touches her.” he demands as he pulls you, stumbling and trying to keep up with his long strides. Opening up a door, Joel thrusts your back to the wall, taking out his knife and you gasp, trying to get away; to where, you don’t know.

“Hold still, woman, or I’ll cut you for real.” Joel cut off your hand ties, and literally threw you onto the dirty mattress. He stomped over, towering above you, and pointing. “One night. Tomorrow I get what I paid for, and you’re mine, wherever, whenever, and however I want you, no matter what Tommy and his bleeding heart think. Understood?”

You nod, but that's not enough for him.

“Say, ‘yes, Sir’”

You swallow, and speak as much as you can imagine. “Yes sir”

“Go to sleep”

And with that, he leaves the room, and you can hear it locking. How are you supposed to sleep after all that? After everything?

Not long after, the door opens again, and you scramble up thinking Joel changed his mind; it was Tommy, but that didn’t ease you at all. Maybe Tommy showed you mercy to save you for himself.

“Relax, I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

He’s got a bowl in one hand and a bag in the other. “Don’t got much by way of a bath tonight, but here's hot water and a towel, you can at least wash your face, and here’s clean clothes and a pillow”

You don’t move, frozen in fear, almost as if he was a t-rex; if you didn’t move, he wouldn’t see you.

A soft smile. ”Alright, I’ll get out of your hair” and with that he leaves you, your room dark save for the moonlight coming through the window.

********************

You know, when I made this side blog it was initially gonna be like. Secret. Like I wasn't gonna tell my mutuals i had a side blog for dark content

But even if I decided to stay anonymous, the fact I have a fic with a song title, a shitty dad and a good brother would've given it away lol

Anyway, if you want to read more, comment to be added to the tag list!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #tw rape #dub con #non con #dark joel miller #romana after dark #dark!Joel #the last of us hbo #joel miller fic #joel miller reader #joel miller reade smut #dark joel miller reader

424 notes · View notes

crookedkryptonitebeliever · 3 months

Text

It Was Only Supposed to be a One Night Stand (part 8)

Tw: Yandere, Montgomery came from a dysfunctional family, fat shaming, like bullying from parents

LOOK AT MY NEW SERIES THAT COMBINES YVES AND MONTGOMERY TOGETHER

Part 9

After four long days and three steamy nights, you finally reached the homestead that Montgomery was raving about.

It is massive. Lively too.

Even during winter, the animals were kicking up a fuss inside their respective barns. The main, open fields didn't seem to be growing anything, but you can see a couple of greenhouses side by side. The silos tower all the nearby buildings. Everything seems all over the place yet organized at the same time, perhaps you're not well versed in the art of farming, you wouldn't get it.

He drove further down to a large, two storey farmhouse. The wooden planks worn with age and memories, plants creeping from under the sheet of powdery white. Montgomery parked right next to five other trucks that clearly saw better days. You turned your head to see that there is another living quarter, this time with two cars, but four vacant parking spots.

Typical of him, he gets out of the car first to open your door.

You held onto his hand as your boots flatten the snow below you. He has a protective arm around your waist, making you sure that you won't fall.

"We made it home." He pulled his scarf down to give you a kiss on the forehead. "Praise lord, we made it safe and sound." Montgomery rubbed your back up and down.

Praise lord? That's new. You never pegged him to be religious, seeing how he is behind bedroom and motel doors.

He struck his knuckles against the sturdy door that's protected by a metal gate. You eyed the rust coating them, wondering how old their properties are.

With this much resources, they should have been filthy rich. Why is everyone cramped into these two houses?

The door swung open to reveal an older male, with greying hair and a baseball cap. He is a lot shorter than Montgomery himself.

"Monty, my boy!" He exclaimed and excitedly opened the gate. Both men flung themselves onto each other and had a hug fest.

"I missed ya, pa." The older gentleman lets out a hearty laugh.

"Missed ya too, Ugly."

Ugly? That's... an odd thing to call your son. You can see that Montgomery's smile faltered a bit.

"So? Gonna introduce me to this beauty here?" His father smiled at you.

"This is (name), my partner." Montgomery clasped his hands on your shoulders and pulled you closer to him. "Born n' raised in the city." He shot his father a look, as if hinting to not make you too uncomfortable with the countryside lifestyle.

"Huh. Now how did ya' get to meet my son? I know y'all city dwellers have sky-high expectations for lovers, especially in the looks department ." He guffawed and slapped Montgomery on the back. "I guess his heart of gold won ya' over."

Your boyfriend looks uncomfortable.

You changed the subject, asking if you could come in due to the freezing weather.

"Come on in! A friend of Monty is a friend of mine, I ain't have much from his side. So, I'm excited to get to know ya!" He steps aside to let the both of you in.

It definitely has a rustic aesthetic. Cushions and rugs worn and tattered. There are three German Shepherds sleeping on the couches. A fluffy grey cat sits atop one of them, eyes serenely closed.

The hearth is crackling loudly and its heat is warming the house up. You looked around to see numerous framed pictures of his family on all sides of the walls.

There are a dizzying number of different faces that you can identify. You wonder if he had a thousand siblings or these are including his cousins and niblings.

"Do I hear that Monty the Ugly is home?!" A high pitched voice rang from another room.

"Ya' sure did, Sugar! Our boy is home!"

A woman of similar age to his father, came rushing in. In her arms held a large wooden bowl filled with what looks like batter of some sort.

She set the bowl down on a table somewhere and hurled herself to Montgomery. She gave him a bone-crushing hug, it was so tight that your boyfriend had the air knocked out of his lungs. That's where he gets his habit from.

She whipped her head towards you, her eyes lit up even more and you could almost feel her gyrating on the spot.

"Oh! Who's this little sweet thing right here?" She let her son go before skittering towards you. His mother reminded you a lot of a hyperactive mouse.

"That's Monty's lover, can you believe it?!" His father replied with great enthusiasm.

She let out a squeal and squeezed your cheeks. "No! I can't. Praise Jesus, he finally found someone who loves him past his outside!"

"That's enough now, ma." He forcefully pried her away from you. She stumbled backward a little, her husband came to her aid but before he could defend her, she had something to say.

"What? I'm just showin' our guest how we welcome folks like them!" Whined his mother. Montgomery ignored them, preferring to inspect your face instead, he caressed your cheeks as he whispered, "I'm sorry about them."

"And I raised ya' better than to put your hands on your mother like that!" His father had a sudden change of tone, his face contorted into something a lot less friendly.

"I know that's right, Monty! The city corrupted your values, ya' should have stayed back and helped with the family business." His mother spat with malice.

"Really!? Right now? In front of my sweetheart?" Montgomery retorted with equal offense. He stood in front of you protectively.

They snapped their head towards you and took a moment of silence. Their animosity dropped as fast as it arrived, they returned to their smiles and giggles.

"Silly ol' us, where are our manners? You ain't even know what to call us!" The father hooked his arm around your neck and gave you a noogie. You wince at the sudden touch and pain.

"You can call me 'ma', and him 'pa'. Forget about the Mr and Mrs crap, we're all family here!" His mother clapped her hands excitedly.

"Hands off!" Montgomery's digits curled around his father's wrist, yanking it away from your head. He shoved him away from you and pressed you close into him. "Don't fucking touch them!" He shouted.

"What the hell has gotten into ya'? We're your parents, for god's sake! You don't get to talk to us like that!" Retaliated his father.

"Precisely, Monty! The city's no good for you. If only you listened to us and pastor--"

You interrupted their potentially disastrous argument, asking to meet the rest of the family. Like before, they immediately forget about their anger and go straight to being lovingly sweet again.

"Yes! I'll call those lazy bones down right now." The mother took a deep breath and began screeching their names, she moved towards the staircase and continued yelling. You had to plug your ears with your fingers, it was as loud as the train. Maybe even louder.

"While my wife's callin' them down, c'mon, I'll teach you their names." His father wanted to put a hand on your shoulder, but Montgomery growled at him. He rolled his eyes and let his hand drop to the side.

You stood in front of the second biggest framed picture in the living room. You let out a sigh of relief, at least you only need to remember the faces and names of 10 people, as opposed to 70 in the largest family picture.

All of them wore the same flannel shirt and type of jeans.

"That's Noel, our youngest. He's turnin' 25 this Christmas. Be careful with him, he's the softest among all of us. He just can't take a joke!" He pointed at the boy who had his hair bleached, his roots were showing. You took note of his rainbow shoelaces.

"That's Baby-Ruth. She's sweeter than chocolate, she's the only one showin' willingness to help out around the farm. Unlike a certain someone who decided to abandon us." He narrowed his eyes at Montgomery, and his father received a mean glare back. Baby-Ruth is the only glowing one in this picture who genuinely looks happy to be in it.

"Ah! Rufus the dog! He's a lean, mean machine, lemme tell ya that. He does all the heavy liftin', he could carry a full-grown cow across the field and not break a sweat! Just hopin' he would lay off the moonshine." Rufus looks horrendous in this picture, eyebags, tousled hair, and sunken cheeks.

"And that's your loverboy, Monty the Ugly!" He pointed at a younger-looking Montgomery.

You said that he looks handsome in this picture, you didn't understand why he's being assigned the title. But truth be told, he just looks average.

Upon hearing that, Montgomery felt his heart swell and he became bashful. But the moment was ruined when his father decided to laugh in your face.

"I guess big places like the city have some big variety of tastes. Not here, though."

You tried defending your boyfriend, feeling upset that he's unfairly treated in this family. Or maybe you felt offended when he implied that your standards are low. You said that he was well sought after in the city, people liked how strong and rugged he was. There is no way he's considered unattractive here.

What you said is not necessarily true in Montgomery's experiences, but it made him melt nonetheless.

You fully expected a shouting match with his father like earlier. But he only brushed it off and took it as a joke.

"Stop yankin' my chains, ain't no way the majority prefer... this-" He gestured towards your boyfriend. "-Over, this!" He pointed to the next family member.

You wouldn't admit it out loud. But whoever his father is pointing at is definitely a hunk. He has a million-dollar smile and striking hazel eyes. The man has his hair slicked back into a neat fashion, you can see his muscles peeking out of his flannel. He knows how to flaunt his good side.

"Our poster boy, Beau! All the ladies in town and out of town is chasin' after him. That's why, he's the face of our products. Shame that he married a woman that didn't quite match his level."

You asked him if he's calling his wife hideous.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Somethin' like that. You're a much better fit for him, but I guess to each their own."

You shot Montgomery a look, your mouth agape. Is his family always like this? He looked away shamefully, starting to regret visiting home.

"Next! Betty the fatty! She could never seem to shed that weight." He chuckled. "I guess Mama's fried chicken's too good for her to resist! Breaking a chair or five never stopped her from getting seconds or thirds or fifteenths during Thanksgiving!"

You brought your hands to your head. You told him that they must be insane, Betty may be chubbier than the rest of them, but she looks normal. Perhaps even thinner than you are, given her height. Either way, She doesn't deserve to be talked about like that.

"Ah, don't you worry. I was just kiddin'. She only broke four chairs with her fatass. Plus, she can take a joke. Unlike a certain wannabe blondie." Before you could even argue about anything else, Montgomery squeezed your shoulder gently. You turned your head to see him shaking his head, pleading with you to drop it. So you did.

"We got the other end of the spectrum, Emerson the Skeleton!" Horrified, your eyes trailed to the end of his fingertips. He's pointing to an emaciated woman who has a scarf tied to her head, it looks like she's trying to cover up part of her hair. She didn't appear to be smiling and her eyes looked vacant.

"She's lazy. Barely helping out with the farm and always sleepin' in. Always spendin' her hard-earned check at the hospital, I wonder what's so interestin' over there."

You cannot tell if he was joking or if he truly did not understand she was suffering from some sort of illness.

"We worry for her, she's nearly 40 and unmarried. I reckon it's cause she ain't have no meat on her bones. Men like to go for something with a little more substance, ya' get what I'm saying?" He nudges you in the rib using his elbow.

Montgomery was about to jump in, but you raised a palm to him. Telling him that it's fine.

"And finally, our oldest. Mary-Grace. Can't believe she's turnin' 50. Time has gone by so fast." He has a wistful look on his face. The oldest looked... tortured. She seems so angry yet so trapped. Her deep wrinkles show you unseen expressions.

Interestingly enough, he has nothing much to say about her.

"Then, there's us! Me, Robert Yeller and my lovely wife, Anna-Mae Yeller. We've been married for 50 long years. She's just a couple months older than I am, but she acts just like my mother!" They both look the happiest. Everyone except Baby-Ruth looked like they were attending a funeral in comparison.

You asked how old are they now.

"We turned 66 this year." The gears started turning in your head. You rather not think about it in the end.

"-meet the new addition to our family!" Your ears perked up at the voice of Anna-Mae. You turned around to see Noel, Emerson and Mary-Grace Yeller. Your eyes rolled down to see a gaggle of children, excitedly chattering among each other.

The children squealed when they saw you and Montgomery. They were like high-speed bullets the way they came running. They latched onto you, their weight making you lose your balance and fall to the ground.

You groaned as they laughed and hugged you close.

"I know y'all are excited to meet your new pibling. But guys, git off them, you're going to scare my Sweetheart away!" He shooed them off you, they shrieked playfully as Montgomery exaggerated his stomps, chasing them around the room until they slipped off to somewhere else to play.

Montgomery seems to get along with the children well. You wondered if he wanted children later in life, that may be a problem given the economy is on a downward trend.

Your boyfriend helped you up, checking you for any injuries sustained.

You turned your face to look at his siblings. They're... nothing like their parents personality-wise. They stared at you cautiously, a conflicted look rested on their faces as soon as their eyes landed on Montgomery.

There was tension in the air, Mary-Grace furrowed her eyebrows, looking at Montgomery. Then he turned to you, and an unreadable expression emerged.

"Welcome. Make yerself' at home." She was curt. She turned around and walked away.

"Hello." Emerson rasps. She gave you a small wave and a polite smile. She too, left the room promptly.

Noel looked you up and down, seemingly judging you.

"How was life like in the city?" He ignored you, asking Montgomery.

"Show my partner some respect, if you know what's good for you." Seethed Montgomery through his gritted teeth.

"Sup." He gave you an upward nod. You mirrored his behavior.

"Were you happy?" Asked Noel, treating you like you're invisible. "Were they any less 'sensitive' than me?"

"Noel." He snarled. "Not now."

To your surprise, Noel didn't inherit any of their Southern accents. He almost sounds... Californian.

Noel snorted. "Welcome to the Yeller household. I can tell you're going to love it here." The sarcasm dripping from his tone definitely didn't go undetected. He went back upstairs, you heard a loud slam shortly after.

"Heh, guess someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, amirite?" The couple laughed in unison.

Montgomery rubbed your arm up and down. "Let's go." He whispered.

He excused himself needing to set the luggage down in the bedroom. You followed him to the car, not wanting to be in the same room as the unstable elderly couple.

What have you gotten yourself into?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader #oc montgomery #tw fatphobia #tw fat shaming #tw dysfunctional family

77 notes · View notes

she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 5 months

Note

Can you tell us what the answers to the six of crows color experiment is?

Yep! ☺️

I realised too late that I really should’ve organised it as a poll somehow, because I’ve had loads of responses (thank you all very much) and whilst a lot of them agreed with me there were a few I wasn’t expecting. My associations in the order than I wrote them in the original post:

Red - Nina

Green - Jesper

Black - Kaz

Blue - Matthias

Purple - Inej

Orange - Wylan

So generally speaking a lot of people either agreed with exactly what I’d said or swapped Wylan and Jesper, which makes a lot of sense. A few people also moved Jesper and Inej around, which I understand and I wanted to add on that point I always connect Inej to purple with the idea of her reclaiming the colour and its power in the same way that she referred to her knives as her “proper claws” to reclaim the image of the lynx. Purple is the colour that was used against her and the colour that represents Ketterdam (Stadwatch uniforms, colour of Kruge notes, and the Geldrenner Ketterdam suite being the main examples); with a part of what separates Inej’s journey and her ship from Kaz’s style of vengeance is the acknowledgement that the city itself is the monster she’s facing, she’s been forced to come to terms with the idea that what happened to her wasn't the result of one terrible person or group of terrible people, but a dangerous environment and society that was never going to see her as an equal go matter what she did in life (this realisation is particularly linked to the “Rare Spices” billboard, which I wrote a post on a while back so if anyone wants to read that let me know and I’ll tag you) so by reclaiming the colour she is not only reclaiming the power Heleen took from her but the city as a whole. I hope I worded that all okay I worry that my point doesn’t come across properly it feels unclear please let me know and I’ll try to explain it differently. However I also understand the perspective a few people raised in their responses of wanting to separate her from that colour because she should always be seen as more than who she was forced to be, it’s just my personal interpretation that part of her pathway to healing is reclaiming the symbols used against her as a symbol of power to use against the system and people that put her in her position.

With Jesper and Wylan, I can definitely see it going both ways and I guess it also depends on what shades of the colours you’re imagining for each of them. For me, Wylan is orange because it can be a quiet, beautiful sunrise but it can also be fire and rage, it can be dark and deeply lonely but it can also be bright and blazing, it can be the first light of home in the dark but it can also be the flames of righteousness. “You were angry. I needed you righteous” “well, you’ve got me”. I realise all/most colours have a natural dual nature but I think orange does particularly and I think that it compliments him wonderfully. I connect Jesper to green for brightness, fun, the “lime green” clothes and vibrant plaid, but also for the farm and the card tables and the painful difference between them - the way his life split in two like a log cut down the middle (I don’t have my book with me so not quoting, but he says something along those lines in Crooked Kingdom when talking about how he ended up moving from the university to the Barrel).

I think the one’s who were always connected the same way were Nina to red and Kaz to black, and I wanted to add a couple of reasons I didn’t see anyone mention yet and that would be Nina being the “little red bird” and Kaz wearing black, mercher suits to mock them and to look, by Ketterdam’s colour-represented social hierarchy that I could talk about forever, like he fits in with them in the upper echelon of society.

And most people also maintained Matthias with blue, connections to water, ice, storms, but I think also it’s worth emphasising his blue eyes that Nina finds so beautiful

I will go through later and tag everyone who has responded so far in this post so everyone can see the results if they want to, thanks to everyone who responded ❤️

#grishaverse #six of crows #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #matthias helvar #kanej #Wesper #helnik #save shadow and bone #save six of crows

113 notes · View notes

hopplessilse · 6 months

Text

Instagram search (date)

Insta!Joel x Fem!reader

Serie Masterlist

Summary: You're on your first date with Joel, things get personal when he asks about your family.

Rating: +18 (mdni)

Words count: 3.5 k

Warnings: age gab (Joel is in his late 40's. Reader is in her early 20's.) bit of touching, deep conversation about divorce (that brings you to tears), overthink 24/7, insecure, lack of confidence

Note: Hello loved ones. It's been a while since the last chapter, my life has had ups and downs lately, I'm better which is what matters, mental health comes first. It was hard for me to finish this chapter, the motivation didn't reach me but it's finally here, I hope to continue to have your support and that you want to know how this story continues. I hope you are patient because my life is turned upside down. Have a nice start to the week.

^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_

As I looked out the car window, I could feel his gaze for a while. We were both quiet, but it was nothing uncomfortable, I was enjoying the trip with the simple fact that he was by my side.

His features were relaxed, I couldn't get over the fact that he was so damn attractive.

As I looked at it, in the distance I could visualize a beautiful farm, with large stables and a beautiful white fence.

"Is that where we'll be?" I said, pointing to the place, amazed at its size.

"Yes honey" he looked at you for a second smiling at you

When he parked the truck and we got out of it, I couldn't help but jump in happiness. The place was beautiful, very green and fresh.

It was everything I imagined it would be as a child

Everything happened quickly, the owner of the place who knew Joel gave us a tour of the place. Joel couldn't stop smiling when he saw me and neither did I, it felt weird to be here with him, finally being able to touch him and listen to him was the best, honestly I never thought I would get to meet him in person. I didn't think he would be interested in getting to know me, especially knowing that I'm too young for him.

I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable because of my age, I know it's totally different to date someone younger than it is to date someone older, I wanted him to see that I'm mature and that I can handle this, I didn't want him to see me as a little girl who doesn't know what she wants in life.

I questioned a lot thinking that he would be different than he seemed, but I was wrong. I had expectations, yes, there is nothing wrong with having them, I could say that he meets them, he has been gentlemanly, he has not made me feel uncomfortable, he asked my permission to hold my hand when I got out and got into the truck, he has not made any comments outside of place, he is very kind,attractive and God his gaze...has me on the floor.

Who would have imagined that I would be here today, with a man 27 years older than me on a date... Who would have thought that what I longed for with an actor, I was living with a man I met on Instagram.

Life does take a turn from one moment to the next.

I just needed someone who saw me, cared, listened to me and wanted to be with me, and to be honest...I think he can give me more than that.

"Have you come before?" you said seeing how he put the seat on the horse and fastened it with the leather straps

"yes"

"Oh" you sounded a little disappointed as you imagined other women coming to the same place along with him.

He paused as he secured the seat and sat up to turn to see you.

"I have come with my daughter, she likes horses very much just like you" he smiled at you as the lord of the stable opened the doors

"Telling me that I share a taste with your daughter sounds like you want me to be friends with her" you said and a little laugh escaped from your lips

"No haha" you looked at him while laughing and noticed the frown lines on the sides of his eyes.

"That would be very rare darling"

You followed his footsteps to one side of him coming out to the side of the corral where there was a horse and another lord. How it was not Joel's first time, he already knew the route to walk the horse through the forest, it was not a long route, it was a bit short in fact, it was more than anything so that the horses could be walked and at the same time they exercised.

"Come I'll help you up," Joel said as he took you by the low waist and pulled you closer to the horse so you could get up.

Mr. Palmer held the horse's leash while Joel was the one who would help you up.

"Rest your foot right here in the stirrup, are you going to hold on to the horn so you can propel yourself, okey sweetheart?" he was explaining as his hand stayed on your lower back and his gaze strolled across your face.

"yes" you nodded

"Okey, let's go"

You did the same as Joel told you, you put your left foot in the stirrup, you stretched your left hand so you could reach the horn and be able to gain momentum. The moment you took momentum, Joel's hands held both sides of your hip helping you up, what made you nervous was the growl that came from his lips when you climbed.

You settled into the seat by backing up and being able to give Joel space in front of you. This one look at you with a frown

"I thought you wanted to learn," he told you as he looked up and rested his hand on your left calf.

"I want to see how you do it, you have more experience" you looked at him smiling "apart they do not let a beginner take the horse" you said whispering so that Mr. Palmer did not listen, but he still did

You both turned to see him and he shook his head stating your comment. Joel just laughed shaking his head and got on the horse effortlessly.

You remained silent as you entered the forest, it was a very beautiful place, quiet and full of vegetation. Joel was telling you that Mr. Palmer's family has kept the place for more than 40 years, since his grandparents and uncles had opened the business.

"When was the first time you came?" you asked him as you rested your right cheek on his back, your hands were on the side of his hip completely surrounding it.

"A few years ago, Sarah was 4 years old when I brought her" he turned his face so he could check you and he look back to the front

"Her mom had just left me and… Sarah was constantly looking for her, so I tried to find a way for her to be happy again" he gave a sigh and you just tightened your grip a little to show compassion, to which he lowered one hand and rested it on yours.

"When I brought her together with Tomy she had the biggest and most beautiful smile, her eyes shone from how happy she was, since that moment I have always brought her, she was even in riding lessons but she leave it for football" he laughed at the end and you felt the vibrations of his laughter through your arms

"Who leaves horse riding for football? Haha" you laughed next to him

"Apparently my daughter does" he turn to you and smile at you.

A little before reaching the halfway point, Joel stops the horse and you lift your face off his back.

"What are you doing?" you said as you took your hands off his waist to give him room and get off the horse.

"You're going to take it," he said with a smile as he beckoned you to move forward.

"You're crazy, they're going to scold us," you said panicking.

"Nothing happens, I promise you, we will change places before arriving"

You looked at him for a few seconds and he just looked at you with his puppy eyes

"Trust me"

You just nodded and stood forward as he climbed in the back. He passed his hands that still held the rope under your arms and gave a light blow to your forearms. You sighed deeply as you felt him so close to your body, to feel his breath on the back of your neck and his arms… his damn big arms around you.

What a damn agony.

You didn't know if he felt uncomfortable being here with you, a place he's only shared with his daughter and brother, a place that has history. A place where people know him, what would they think of him… Will he care what people say?

Nope, I don't think so.

"Tell me," his voice echoed on the back of your neck, making your skin crawl, "do you live alone or with your parents?"

"I live with my mother and my brother" You turned your head a little and stood in profile in front of him

"I think that question had to be the first thing I knew about you," you both laughed a little

Joel cleared his throat and asked.

"And your father? If you don't mind I asked"

"it's fine… He doesn't live with us."

"Since when?" his voice sounded serious

"Mmh it's been a while," you paused and looked down looking at his forearms that were slightly resting on your thighs, "they've been separated since I was 8 years old, and divorced when I was 13."

"I'm sorry to hear that, I guess it wasn't easy for you."

You raised your right hand and directed it to his, caressing the veins that were marked in it

"It wasn't… It was hard for a while, I think… From the beginning I knew that everything would end sooner or later, and in fact I wanted it to end, the 8-year-old girl could not bear to see her parents fight, she knew that every time they started a conversation it would end in a fight"

You sighed heavily as your lips trembled. You felt a warm aura envelop your hands, when you looked you realized that Joel had wrapped his hands with yours, transmitting that warmth you needed to feel safe. Joel rested his chin slightly on your shoulder, while you rested your head on his chest.

"I believe that no child should see their parents fight, they should not be put in that situation, for some it can be traumatic to hear their parents yelling at each other" you sighed as you felt his chest slowly rise and fall "it projects a bad image of the love and respect they have for each other, it makes them reflect in some way, it makes them feel powerless of not being able to do anything"

"That's right" the lump you felt in your throat was going to explode at any moment, you couldn't speak remembering everything.

Joel noticed

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about this, I know it's hard" He raised one of his hands and stroked your hair "When you're ready I'll listen to you, I'll be here for you"

"It's just that.." You took a breath and lightly squeezed his left hand that was still holding you "My inner child has a hard time talking about it, her childhood was summed up by her parents' divorce"

You were silent for a few seconds, you knew Joel would listen to you, it didn't matter if you cried, you really wanted him to know you, to know your past. It was painful for the girl who lives in you, but that girl learned at a young age that divorces were normal, that couples fight all the time, that love ends sooner for some people. Forever is nothing more than a simple word that can be broken, as delicate as a tightrope that depends on two people.

"Sometimes I feel that the climax of my life was that, I'm grateful that it happened, I think it was still a lesson in some way, it helped me to form my person and see things in a different way, I always tell myself that it was the best"

You felt a little tense and couldn't help but ask

"Do you think it's depressing for me to think like that?" You turned your face to look at him out of the corner of your eye, being too close to his face. He turned to look at you and moved away a bit because of the little space between you

"I don't think it's depressing, it's an event that left you with a before and after in your life, and it's good that you have taken it and reflected on it for good" He look into your eyes "that speaks to how mature you are" You both looked at each other and you smiled at him looking away because of how tense you felt.

"Well, I want this experience to be unique and special, what do you think if we enjoy the sound of nature"

"I think it's a good idea, let's put depression aside"

Both of you followed the path in silence, but it was a silence full of harmony and peace, from time to time Joel would put his shank on your shoulder and caress him with it, you couldn't help but smile, you couldn't help but touch his hands and caress them. He liked it because he caressed your hands, and even brushed his hands on your thighs, but always respecting you.

...............

The day had gone from sunny to cloudy from one moment to the next, it was raining hard when you arrived at your house, you told Joel to park 3 houses before yours. Inside the car you could only hear the rain hitting the hood of the truck and above you, you could hear the breeze that was outside.

The trees and plants swaying from side to side through the air, the windows fogged up from the cold that ran through the streets, the water running down the concrete of the street, the lights of some houses kept off while others were on, in the distance you could see the window of your room. You thought that if you lived alone you would have already put him through, you wouldn't let him leave and even less so with this rain, you would snuggle with him on the couch while they watched Game of Thrones.

You turned to look at him and he was already looking at you, you caught his gaze running over your bare legs, his gaze went up until he reached your face, he half smiled at you as he turned his gaze forward and his hands massaged the steering wheel with his palms.

“I didn't expect it to rain” his voice echoed in your ears.

You watched his hands move along the steering wheel, wishing that you were the one his hands were touching.

"It rained suddenly" you said almost in a whisper but he could hear

You took off your seat belt while you settled into your seat, you settled so that your body was in his direction. He looked at you and imitated your action, taking off his seat belt and turning to look at you.

"I liked going out with you" you smile at him

"I'm glad you liked it" he gave you a sweet look "I think… we should try again another time"

"Yes, we should," you smiled as you lowered your gaze to the hand resting on his thigh.

"Do you like it? the date" you turned your gaze to his face

"I loved it, I liked to have known you a little more" he put his hand to your nests and caressed them "I hope I have not disappointed you"

"No," you said frowning, "why do you think that?"

"Well… I'm too old, I'm not extroverted and i don't do crazy things," he said, laughing a little at the end and looking at you, "plus maybe you think I'm a degenerate for dating you."

"No no haha, I don't think anything like that" you stroked his hand you this time "you're older yes but you're very attractive, and it doesn't matter that you're not outgoing I'm not either and, I like you to be different from anyone I've ever met… and I definitely don't think you're a degenerate"

He just nodded smiling this time

Heck, he did have a cute smile.

They fell silent causing the sound to return to your ears. You went through his features for the thousandth time all day, he was so beautiful, all of him was just beautiful, you couldn't think how come he was alone and single.

You wanted to know what it tasted like, you wanted to feel his lips against yours, if they fit yours.

You stopped thinking for once in your life and decided to do something good for the first time, without regrets this time, without doubting that it will be the best thing you could do today.

Everything happened so fast.

You approached and could only see when he turned to see you, your lips were shaped with his in a slow kiss, his lips were cold to contact, they felt good next to yours, it felt like a synchronized dance. His mustache was itchy, it was a new sensation that you never thought you would enjoy as you were doing, your hands went to his face above his jaw, you rested your fingers on his beard a little gray and trimmed.

You wanted him to touch you, you needed to feel his hands on you once again. You grabbed the hand that was caressing your arm and directed it to your thigh, he had contact with your thigh and caressed your skin with his fingers, your skin bristled at the contact which made him smile in the middle of the kiss.

As the kiss deepened you felt his hand go up your thigh more and more, running through it with small and slow caresses. Your tongue found its way into his mouth caressing his, while small moans came out of your throat and he responded by intensifying the kiss and his grip on your thigh and his hand that remained below your jaw.

Everything was going well, you felt good about yourself in that moment, you were wrapped in the moment that when you felt his hand on the edge of your dress, you jumped up tensing a little under his contact, you didn't say anything to him you just continued kissing him.

He settled closer to you and you felt his hand right on your hip inside the dress, you were so deep into the kiss that you didn't care, but you only felt his hand near the edge of your panties and his fingers on one side of your lower thigh, you settled in your place and that was enough for him to remove his hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath.

"It's… yes, I'm fine" your voice came out between cut by the grief you felt

You kissed him again so he wouldn't realize you were nervous, you didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to last longer. Your nerves invade you again when you feel his hand on your thigh again, you like the contact of his hand against your skin, how big it is around your thigh, but not enough to grab all the flesh around it, but you have a hard time staying focused on your desire when nervousness and anxiety surround you.

When he raised his hand again, not hearing your reprisals, you lowered the hand you had on his face and placed it on top of his sliding it gently down your leg so that it was on your knee.

You broke the kiss again

"I'm sorry," you said sadly, lowering your gaze and covering your face with your hands as you tried to control your breathing.

As you hid your face in your hands, Joel still didn't move away from you, you could feel his hand stroking your knee sweetly and delicately.

"You don't have to say sorry honey," he said as he placed one of his hands on your head caressing your hair.

You were silent for a moment, while he thought that he had come far, possibly he had made you feel uncomfortable and you didn't want to say it, he felt guilty for seeing you like this and that you asked him for forgiveness.

You, on the other hand, did not feel better, you felt ashamed of what you had just done, you felt stupid for having had that daring behavior and then burst into tears.

"How childish I am sorry" you said between sobs

"Hey Shh you are not childish" his right hand touched one of your hands that still hid your face

"I am, I don't expect you to bear me" This time you took your hands off your face and looked at him, his eyes open as they saw every part of your face, his lips slightly open, and with the same distance as before.

"Breathe okey, it's all right honey" he moved away a little so he could press the button on the windows next to him. As he pressed the one on your side, the window lowered a little letting in the fresh night air.

"Are you okay?" he ask this time taking distance

"s.. yes, I'm seriously sorry, I know you expected something more from me," you said with your eyes down.

"What do you mean? Not of course not, why do you think that?" he wrinkled his eyebrows

"Because I've been very different when we talked, the photos…." You were going to continue listing the many things you did, that you said and he interrupted you.

"Honey I want you to know that I don't expect anything from you, Okey? I want to know you, the person you are, the rest doesn't matter." You took a deep breath to look up

"I wanted to make a good impression on you," you said, looking into his eyes.

"You did it, you are more than I expected"

Joel looked at you silently as you ran your forearm over your nose and wiped your eyes.

"Listen… I don't expect anything in return, I want you to feel comfortable being with me, I want you to be the one to allow me to get closer" he sigh heavily before speaking "The last thing I want is for you to feel pressured, forget about the photos, okay? I want you to trust me."

"I'm a bit dramatic sometimes" you said wanting to laugh but failed in the attempt

"You're not," he said in a whisper causing his voice to sound hoarse

"Your feelings are strong, you can't hide them and that's okay."

You looked at him and he gave you a smile, his eyes were still looking at you with adoration, he had the same look as when you entered his truck. You assumed that everything would be fine, he would not walk away.

He wouldn't judge you for your feelings. He would worship you for who you really are, He would be there for you when no one else is. You've become his new favorite person, he can't fight the feeling that you're something else… You're more than he thought you would be.

He's fucked up just like you, and that's okay.

............................

Tag list:

@paanchusblog @peachmy

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #smut #x reader #fanfic #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #insta!joel #pedro pascal fanfiction

53 notes · View notes

arcane-trail · 1 year

Photo

Do Pagans Celebrate Christmas?

Christmas is a Christian festival (the hint is in the name), so it is not a festival that you would expect to see celebrated by Pagan communities, old or new.

But Christmas is a Christian adaptation of the Winter Solstice, which, in the northern hemisphere, is the shortest day of the year and usually falls around 21 December. For communities that observe the wheel of the year and the changing of the seasons, this is an incredibly important day.

It was around this time that ancient Pagans no longer had food to feed their cattle, so they would slaughter them and have fresh meat for the solstice. This was also the time when the beer and wine brewed earlier in the year were finally fermented, so there were lots of good things to drink. If that is not a good enough reason for a holiday, the moment when the days start lengthening was also considered by many Pagan communities to represent the sun’s rebirth.

So, if you look at the festival calendars of the Pagan communities of the northern hemisphere, most of them have a major festival around the time of the Winter Solstice. The existence of these festivals is also why Christmas falls on December 25th.

The Invention of Christmas

Christmas was invented by the Roman Catholic Church in the 4th century. Before this, Easter was the main Christian holiday.

The Bible does not mention when Jesus of Nazareth was born, but it does seem unlikely that it was in December. Temperatures drop as low as 40 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius) in winter in the area surrounding Jerusalem and Galilee. Shepherds were unlikely to be tending their flocks, and the Romans probably would have conducted their census in warmer months.

But the Church decided to celebrate the birth of Jesus in December to coincide with the major Roman festival of the Saturnalia. This is a week-long festival that occurred between 17 and 24 December to celebrate the fertility god Saturn. For all the reasons already mentioned, it was a major festival period in the Roman world.

The 25th of December was chosen as the actual birthday of Jesus, rather than another day during the Saturnalia, such as the day of the solstice, because this was the festival day of the god Sol Invictus. His temple was inaugurated in Rome on 25 December 274 by the emperor Aurelianus. It was probably not inaugurated on the solstice because this was already a feast day for Dionysus, Hercules, Adonis, and Mithras.

Sol Invictus was the most important god in the Roman Empire before its conversion to Christianity, so it made sense for the Church to conflate Christ with this deity.

The Christmas festival absorbed many of the customs of the Saturnalia and was exported around the rest of Europe with Christianity.

As Christmas spread, it also adopted other Pagan traditions associated with the Winter Solstice. For example, when King Haakon I of Norway converted his country to Christianity in the 10th century, he changed the date of the traditional Norse Yule celebration to coincide with Christmas. Many Norse Yule traditions were incorporated into Christmas. Similar things happened wherever the Church took its new holidays.

Christmas Traditions with Pagan Roots

So, which of the many Christmas traditions that we practice today have Pagan roots? Let’s take a look at just a few examples.

Gift Exchange

It was traditional to exchange gifts as part of the Saturnalia, but it was very different from modern gift-giving. It was traditional for Romans to give one gift to another person (kind of like a Secret Santa), and the gift was almost always a statuette of a god that could be placed in the household shrine.

This may also have been the origin of the nativity scene. The Romans renovated their household shrines with new divine images, and today families create nativity scenes each year.

Christmas Trees

The Romans would decorate their homes with evergreen trees during Saturnalia as part of rituals to ensure the prosperity of farms and orchards in the following year. This was very likely the origin of the Christmas tree.

Deck the Halls

In the Norse world, the Vikings would gather in their temples and long halls for the Winter Solstice. They believed that at this dark time of year, the veil between the worlds was at its thinnest, and dark spirits could cross over. Staying inside and together was a form of protection.

The Vikings would bring animals to sacrifice. The blood of the animals would be drained, and the meat sent to be cooked for the festival. Meanwhile, the blood of the sacrificial victims was smeared on cult images and the temple walls as part of a ritual of protection. This may be the origin of the idea of decking the halls.

Yule Log

The Yule Log also has Viking roots. The Vikings would select an oak log that would be burnt on the fire throughout Yule. The fire offered protection, and letting the fire go out was a very bad omen.

The log was specially prepared and engraved with protective runes. A small piece of the log from the previous year was kept to be added to the Yule fire the following year.

Santa Claus

The idea of Santa Claus is a Germanic-Norse tradition. They believed that during Yule, Odin, the most important god, led a group of gods in the Wild Hunt. They would rampage through the world, removing everything dead and no longer useful, clearing the way for new growth. One of the reasons that the Vikings stayed indoors at Yule was not to be accidentally caught up in the Wild Hunt.

But while abroad, Odin might also choose to visit household, leaving behind presents and good fortune. In the Volsunga Saga, Odin gives Sigmund a magic sword that helps him complete his quests. In the Saga of Hrolf Kraki, the king refuses gifts of hospitality, armor, and weapons from an old, bearded man missing an eye. This turns out to be Odin, and Hrolf later dies for lack of the weapons that he needs.

Santa’s reindeer also seem to be inspired by Odin’s eight-legged steed Sleipnir, which could carry the god anywhere in the Norse cosmos.

Christmas and Modern Pagans

So, does being a Pagan today mean that you can’t celebrate the festive season with your loved ones? Not at all!

For those who honor the wheel of the year, the Winter Solstice is an incredibly important time. It represents rebirth and renewal. Like the new moon, it is a time to set new intentions that will grow with the years. Some Wiccans celebrate the solstice specifically as the day on which the sun god is reborn.

But the winter festival has always been a season rather than a single day in Pagan communities. It has always been a time for feasting, rejoicing, and spending time with family and friends.

This means that Pagans can embrace the festive season without embracing the Christian religious beliefs associated with Christmas. Gift-giving, hall decking, and eating far too much are all respectable Pagan traditions.

You might find the perfect Pagan gift in our store.

[Read full blog post here]

349 notes · View notes

that-spider-witch · 2 months

Text

Elven cuisine Headcanons

High Elves:

Haute Cuisine, but make it 🍁𝓬𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓮🍁

...at least, that's how a lot of humans would describe it, for lack of better words.

Pretty-looking dishes that are served in small proportions. Anyone who is still hungry after a 'normal' ration can repeat: High elf families who invite people of other races for brunch tend to already be used to their guests asking for refills.

Mainly vegetarian: Lots of leaves, fruits, roots, seeds, flowers and even bark from edible trees, as well as fungi. If a plant is edible and can be harvested without risk, it will be in the menu.

That is not to say that high elves don't eat meat, though their idea of what's game and what's not can be very culturally different from another race or even another clan: Some high elves might abstain from eating deer or elk because they are seen as sacred in their clan, while some humans might find the idea of froghemoth terrine "disgusting".

Wood Elves:

Cuisine is a reflection of someone's culture, and with wood elves said culture is one of respect for nature. Veggies tend to be foraged rather than grown in a farm.

"Agriculture" and "wood elf" are words that are very rarely in the same sentence, and their food reflects that. Their traditional bread and other baked goods use wild grain instead of wheat.

When meat is consumed, it is based on whatever animals are necessarily hunted, and when that happens, no part of the animal is wasted: Offal and organ meat is cooked and eaten in a variety of ways, and bones are used for stock. If you are gonna eat an animal, then honor its sacrifice by using it all.

Wood elven dishes are the polar opposite of high elves': Little thought is given to a meal's visual presentation, what's important is to make it hearty and delicious.

Dark Elves:

Drow cuisine is one that was very much shaped by the Underdark and what few things are edible and easily harvested in such a hard place.

Mushrooms and edible fungi in general are prevalent: Mushroom stew, mushroom pie, mushroom bread, even mushroom wine! (That last one is canon!)

Some Underdark monsters are hunted for their meat. The Cave Fisher and the Darkmantle in particular are considered delicacies.

"Spider eater" is a derogatory slur sometimes used against dark elves. In truth, Lolth-sworn dark elves see eating spiders or killing spiders in general as highly blasphemous. It is the surface-born Seldarine drow population the ones to actually partake in the consumption of spider meat, and that's something they only started doing precisely to give Lolth the middle finger and then continued doing because, as it turns out, it is a good protein source that doesn't actually taste bad at all, thank you very much.

Surface drow cuisine is marked by a cultural need to replicate the flavors found in Underdark as best as possible using what's available to them. Expect a lot of spices, algae, shellfish, some bugs and, yes, lots and lots of mushrooms.

#dungeons and dragons #elves #high elves #wood elves #dnd drow #drow #drow elves #dark elves #dnd homebrew #dnd headcanon #bg3

20 notes · View notes

heresiae · 2 months

Text

popular opinion: in medieval times (1016 years btw) they barely washed, they used to eat the same five things every day, they were generally miserable, died very early and didn't have any kind of serious medicine. they used religion as witchcraft and they were technology stuck. also, INQUISITION.

reality:

they washed, quite regularly, like any other worker in the country. not only that, they knew there was a correlation between dirt and infections. warriors used to wash themselves and their clothes thoroughly before a battle, because they knew wounds would have a less likely chance to become infected if they didn't come into contact with dirt (they actually boiled their linens).

Europe have always had its large variety of vegetables, we just stopped eating them / grow them / because after the 1400 some of the imported seeds were easier to farm in large quantities in various climates (but we lost most of their knowledge after the 50s). we always had lots of herbs so food did have taste.

they were not miserable, they were simply living. they had a decent work/life balance but it's not like the Roman Empire crumbled and everything become very sad (like, no holidays, free time, food and shelter. you have to remember that the nuclear family is a very young concept. people lived in large numbers, extended families etc. you were never alone and you shared responsibilities and all). they were still regular people with regular lives and regular problems (and honestly, can you look at our world today and saying we don't have to worry about was, famine, drought and pestilence?).

yeah the life expectancy was not the one of today but it wasn't that uncommon to reach 50 o 60. it depended a lot of your job, luck, class, care of yourself, etc.

they did had medicine. not the one of today but you know all those "modern" bio remedies based all on plants etc? yeah, they're old. very old and they could cure some common stuff and hard stuff (I should find that link of a medicine book that there was only one copy of it in England and had the only recipe for curing an eye disease that it's still tricky today).

yeah. no. yes, they were religious in a different way that we are today because religion kind of permeate every aspect of their life. you have to remember that theater was not allowed, but religious reenactment were and you can betcha they went full drama on them (it's actually how the theater got to be reborn). so it was like the cinema of today. they did not fall on their knees praying for God or the Saints to save them at any occasion, they put work towards fixing their problem. not very different than today.

guys, you seriously believe that in 1016 years, with scholars freely running through the lands of Europe (they used to get free passage everywhere), books being copied and shared, big fairs happening regularly with people from near and far countries participating, that there wasn't even a single tiny tiny technological improvement? I'll leave you the wikipedia article for you to read in your own time

guys, if Galileo taught us anything is how they were not so ready to burn people at the first sign of heresy. "heretics" got several warnings and occasions to abjure whatever they were doing and killing them was the last extreme solution (like, refusing to stop following your own cult, preaching to the masses, fortifying your village to resist the besiege from the Church army, etc...). the Spanish inquisition was another thing and it was after the medieval millennium.

I'm not saying it was a peachy period, I'm just saying it was a period and not the worse by a long shot.

15 notes · View notes

endless-bunny · 8 months

Text

Babe Wake Up: Pathfinder playtest just dropped

I wasn't expecting to make this post til Sunday, but I guess the timeline has been brought forward. Paizo has announced War of the Immortals for a release some time next year. The playtest document for two fresh, new classes has just been released too and I have briefly skimmed it.

We've got two new classes to look at: the Animist, and the Exemplar. I've included their descriptions direct from the blog post and playtest document along with a few collected thoughts. Keep in mind, I haven't played these classes yet (I doubt anybody has, given how recent the blog post was) so I'm just giving a quick overview.

Animist

"Samo of Icemark is a middle-aged Varki woman from the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, in the northernmost reaches of the Inner Sea region. Samo is a nephilim, a mortal being with a touch of the celestial planes in her bloodline. Born with the ability to see spirits and other entities that others could not, Samo was selected to learn from the elders of Seer’s Home at a young age after her abilities helped her save her village from a kushtaka incursion. Trained in the arts of animism, Samo was proclaimed a sage after successfully bonding with her grandmother’s spirit, an apparition known as a custodian of groves and gardens. Samo served the Varki people for nearly forty years, until the day a young, injured Okaiyan man washed onto shore near Icemark and changed the course of her life forevermore."

"a Wisdom-based divine spellcasting class that bonds with apparitions, ephemeral spirits who share their power and knowledge with the animist in exchange for the animist acting as their agent with the physical world. Bond with a Steward of Stone and Fire to add primal power to your spellcasting, make a pact with an Impostor in Hidden Places to gain access to sneaky and deceptive magics, or allow a Witness to Ancient Battles possess you and lend its martial talents to your repertoire!"

From a brief skim over the Playtest document, it seems like the Animist is sort of a successor to the Shaman and Medium from PF1, communing with spirits and even allowing them to inhabit the Animist's body. Some of the Animist's feats have the "Wandering" trait, which was something in PF1 that allowed the Shaman to choose new spirits each day. They have spells that they both prepare and spontaneously cast, which... seems interesting? I'll have to see how that plays to work out if I like it or not. They also have focus spells, which are kind of a given for spellcasters in PF2, but juggling three different resource pools seems like a lot for a spellcaster. The Shaman in PF1 was one of my favourite classes so I'm looking forward to giving the Animist a go, although I am unfortunately the ForeverGM so I don't get very many opportunities to build and play characters.

I wonder if they chose the name "Animist" just to make it clear that it's not the same class as in PF1, or if they're choosing to avoid the word "Shaman" because of specific, real-world uses of the word. I've written before that Paizo is very aware of, and trying to avoid, cultural appropriation. They've changed game terms in the past (such as "phylactery" and "totem") to avoid negative associations with real-world religious or cultural things, or otherwise perpetuating reductive stereotypes. I dunno, maybe I'm thinking too much about it. Though the term shaman does originate from Tungusic, the practice of shamanism isn't unique to that region of the world.

Exemplar

"Nahoa is a young human man of the Olehala people, one of the four great voyaging nations of the Okaiyo Ocean that spans Tian Xia and Arcadia. Born on the rainy side of his island, Nahoa grew up digging canals for his family’s taro farm, taking care of his younger sisters, and ensuring his village never lost the yearly stone-hurling championship. Though he wanted nothing more than an easy life, Nahoa was Called to exchange his digging stick for a warrior’s spear when a great demon returned, as it had for decades, to prey on his home. He faced the beast high in the sky, and even as his spear pierced it, its talons dug into his flesh. Rather than succumb to the creature’s venom, Nahoa claimed its power as his own, becoming a nephilim in the process. He crashed, far from the Okaiyo, where he would meet a Varki woman and set off on a quest across a distant Inner Sea."

This is Pathfinder's very first rare class. That means, guidance given, it won't be available for most tables to play. I can see why they chose to do that, since while it doesn't seem to be overpowered, it is thematically very different to most other classes, and having only one Exemplar in a party might lead that player to believe themself to be the "Main character"

"a Charisma-based divine warrior possessing their own spark of divinity. The exemplar can move their divine spark between receptacles called ikons to unlock potent effects and abilities. As your power grows, you create your own epithet that defines your immortal legacy; whether you become a Cunning exemplar who’s Restless as the Tides and known to be a Thief of Moonlight, or a Brave exemplar, who’s Peerless Under Heaven and destined to be The Last Ruler of an ancient kingdom, is up to you!"

The examples given are Herakles, Cú Chulainn and Maui, so the speculation wasn't far off.

The Exemplar seems to have a lot of moving parts. They have a number of "Ikons" which they can turn on or off in combat. One Ikon can be active at any time, and the Exemplar can activate different abilities depending on which Ikon is on.

Most of the weapon-focussed classes in this game have a feature where they deal extra damage with their weapons as they gain levels. In the case of the Exemplar, it's spirit damage, and they can later become Holy or Unholy, meaning their spirit damage is more potent against creatures of the opposite alignment.

They also get to choose an epithet that expands as they gain levels, starting with something as simple as "The Brave" but ending with something as badass as "Peerless Under Heaven". Many of the Exemplar's feats are about pushing themselves to greater feats of strength, superhuman athletics and acrobatics and stuff like that.

I'm reminded of the Epic Destinies from Dungeons & Dragons 4th edition, which inspired the Mythic Paths in Pathfinder 1e (and was possibly inspired by the BECMI "Immortals" set or another expansion from an earlier edition). To be honest, having played a bunch of Wrath of the Righteous recently, I am pretty hyped to have something adjacent to Mythic tier in this game. I guess we'll have to wait and see if it's just the Exemplar or if those concepts are expanded to other characters as well.

Edited to Add: Uh yeah it looks like we're getting Mythic character options in this book. I didn't read the preamble for the playtest but:

"The animist and exemplar will appear in the upcoming sourcebook Pathfinder War of Immortals, scheduled for Winter 2024, which also brings new legendary creatures and character options for a wide variety of classes and characters, as well as bringing new mythic rules to Pathfinder!"

(emphasis mine)

So yeah. I get hyped about every Pathfinder sourcebook release. Always have. Unfortunately, my group has to deal with rapid and dramatic genre shifts when something new comes out and I pivot our existing campaign to adopt those subsystems. Some day I will use all of the subsystems in the same game.

#pathfinder #pathfinder 2e #pf2e #tabletop #ttrpg #role playing games #role playing game

44 notes · View notes

lenafromthenordiccoven · 1 year

Text

This Is Only Temporary - Part 2 of 3

(moodboard made by me, Top Gun Maverick screencaps by hd-screencaps, the rest is unsplash.com)

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x afab!reader x Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Rating: M – MDNI 18+

Word count: 4046

Warnings: Bob and Hangman being menaces, and so is reader (oops), little bit of fluff on top of MORE shameless flirting, beginnings of polyamory, Hangman being a flirty dick who wants what he thinks he can’t have; I’m neither US Navy nor American, so reader isn’t either – meaning there might be a little, uh, criticism here and there (also, we all know aviators are cocky af, right?), not beta-read but I did try to proofread a bit

Summary: After months of irregular phone and video calls, and constant e-mailing back and forth, you finally get to visit your boyfriend, Bob, in California. What you didn’t count on, was the fact that the guest room in his new house was temporarily occupied by one of his colleagues. The same cocky aviator, who can’t help but hit on you when you first meet – and even after he knows, you’re taken.

Read on ao3

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3

Taglist: @formulapierre (If you wanna be added to the taglist, just lemme know)

A/N: Part 2, here we gooooo. :D A little shorter than I thought it would be, and Jake turned out a little differently than I had expected, but I decided to just go with the flow. Songs for this chapter would be Whattaman by Salt-N-Pepa and Nowhere to Run by Lola Colette.

“I swear to God, if Beth and Rip don’t get their happy ending, the producers and I will need to have a word.” You grumbled at the episode of Yellowstone playing on TV, wrapped in a warm cocoon of Bob’s arms and a thin blanket on the couch in the living room. Your legs had intertwined with his and you rose and fell with his every breath while lying directly on top of him. You’d propped your head up one of your hands to see the TV better.

Bob’s chuckle rumbled through you and lured a smile onto your own lips. “I’m sure, they’ll be fine, darlin’.” His breath fanned across your ear and the side of your head – and you knew, he wasn’t really watching the show as much as he was your reactions to it. You’d started to watch Yellowstone together last year – well, together and still apart, just connected by a (video) call on your phones while you each watched on your own devices. Bob had suggested the show since he knew, you liked cowboys. (Not least because you loved Bob’s family and the farm where he grew up in Montana.) And it was set in Montana, so that was a plus.

“I had no idea, you were into cowboys, sweetheart,” Hangman’s voice suddenly said from the door arch led into the kitchen with its open counter that looked out over the living room.

You lifted your head from your hand on Bob’s chest to glare at Hangman over the back of the grey couch. The words died on your lips though as you laid eyes on him. He was wearing dark grey sweatpants that were hugging his hips just right (and maybe sitting a little too low). He’d forgone a shirt and his perfectly styled, golden blond hair was still tousled from sleep, sticking up into different directions. You couldn’t help the rush of heat flashing through your body and to your core as you let your eyes roam over his body. God damn it, he was hot. You knew, Bob was still watching for your reaction as his arms tightened around your waist. Besides, you were an open book to your boyfriend by now. You’d known each other for too long not to. “W-well …” You cleared your throat. “Depends on the cowboy, Hangnail.”

You turned your attention back to the TV, putting your head back down on Bob’s chest. You assumed Hangman had gone into the kitchen. But you didn’t get to watch a lot of it in peace when you heard footsteps approaching the couch. You shifted in Bob’s arms, turning over onto your back to be able to look at him without breaking your poor neck.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you saw Hangman leaning slightly over the back of the couch and staring down at you. You’d expected to see his thousand-watt-smile plastered onto his face, but his expression was somber. It reminded you a little of the way Bob looked when he wanted to apologize for something. But you couldn’t wrap your head around why Hangman would look at you like that.

“Listen, Y/N… And, I guess, this goes for Bob, too. I’m sorry about yesterday.” He brought up his right hand to scratch the back of his head sheepishly. “I didn’t know you two were a thing.”

“That wouldn’t have stopped you anyway. And it didn’t,” Bob replied before you could say something. But he said what you had been thinking as well. You hadn’t pegged Hangman as the kind of man that would be stopped by the knowledge of his desired conquest’s relationship status. Neither would you have thought him to be the kind of man to apologize for flirting with you.

Hangman sighed. “You’re right. And I … I just wanna say, I’m sorry, alright?”

“Don’t be,” you piped up. Suddenly reminded of your conversation last night with Bob before you’d both drifted off to sleep. “I actually don’t mind. Neither does Bob. And I do hope, you enjoyed last night’s show.”

“Oh, he did,” Bob teased behind you. One of his hands slid down your waist, over your hip to squeeze your thigh lightly. You could hear the smile in his voice, and you couldn’t help but smirk, when you saw the way Hangman’s face fell a little and his ears and cheeks turned red.

He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “I’d like to apologize for that, too,” he said with a groan.

You pushed yourself up until your face was only a couple inches away from Hangman’s. You narrowed your eyes for a moment. “Didn’t peg you to be the type to apologize, Jake. If anything, from what Robby told me, you’re more of a … How’d Salt-N-Pepa put it? A ‘Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am!’ type of guy.”

“Y/N…” Bob’s voice held an unspoken warning. But not for you to not push Jake, rather in the “Please watch your mouth, before you say something, we might both regret”-type of way.

You looked down at him over your shoulder and shot him a wink, before squeezing his hand on your thigh reassuringly. You weren’t going to cause friction between him and his friend. You just wanted to tease a little. You turned your attention back to Hangman. You lifted your hand from Bob’s and put Hangman’s chin between your index finger and thumb. Carefully pushing your face even closer to his until your lips almost brushed his. “And yet, you’re here this morning. After you watched Robby and I fuck.” Bob’s hand on your thigh squeezed again, but this time, there was no warning accompanying it. If anything, his hand trailed a little higher, back to your hip, innocently brushing over your clothed core. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. A reminder of last night and a promise of more to come. “Why? Did no lady want to take you home with her last night? Or were you curious to know what the two of us would sound and look like?”

You leaned back a bit, your lips curving upwards in a smile as you watched Jake’s chest, neck and face flushing an even deeper red underneath the golden-brown tan. His pupils dilated, transforming the emerald-green eyes of his to a darker shade. You could see the hunger in them. And the yearning. You wondered if he was lying to himself and the rest of the world. That he didn’t like to be this egotistical gigolo with a toothpick, but rather that he was playing this role others had assigned to him. Why, you weren’t sure. To protect himself? Or to prove that he was worthy of his job and others’ attention? Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny that you were curious to know what lay underneath all the bravado and charm.

He swallowed, cleared his throat and averted his eyes. Then he took a step back from the couch. “Right, we should probably get ready for dogfight football.” His voice was hoarse, low. You loved watching him this flustered. Loved it with Bob, too. But Bob had grown used to your special brand of teasing. You still got under his skin, but he fought back, too, from time to time. (Not that he really needed to. Let’s face it, one look from Bob and you could turn into a puddle at his feet.) Jake, though, provided a bit of a challenge.

Behind you, Bob sat up, intentionally pressing his chest to your back. He pressed a quick kiss behind your ear, then gently slapped your thigh. “He’s right, darlin’. We have to go.”

“Fine. But we’re not done talking about this, alright?”

The rest of the Dagger Squad were already assembled at the beach behind the Hard Deck, together with the bartender from yesterday (whom Bob introduced as Penny), his instructor for the last detachment and a dark-haired woman, who introduced herself as Phoenix.

“So, I should probably thank you for getting him back to me in one piece,” you said with a slight lovesick smile in Bob’s direction, who was currently talking to Fanboy.

Phoenix lightly clapped you on the back with her hand. “Nah, I wouldn’t have made it back without him either. We protect each other up there.”

“Suppose you have to, otherwise …” Your voice trailed off as you watched Jake – now back to his usual cocksure self and with the charm turned back up to a hundred – take off his shirt. He shot a wink in your direction before putting his sunglasses back on. You heard Phoenix say something, but the words didn’t quite register.

Bob walking over and wrapping you up in his arms saved you from an undignified response, though. “You two good?”

You nodded, as did Phoenix. You tried to ignore her change in behavior after Jake had winked at you, but you saw the light crease forming between her brows. Before she could say something though, Maverick called all the aviators onto the field – that wasn’t much more than an unoccupied part of the beach.

Bob was about to join them, but he turned back to you. “Do you want to join in?” His arm around your waist pulled you further against his body. You tried not to let the feeling of his body – although still fully clothed in a tattered yellow T-shirt and swim trunks – distract you too much.

You glanced at the group of the other aviators, who were now calling out for Bob to join them. Then you shook your head, directing your attention back to Bob. “You go ahead and have fun. I’ll stake out the beach and maybe go for a swim.”

“Alright. Love you,” he whispered and quickly kissed you. Nothing too salacious that would warrant the hollering and jeering coming from his friends, but it left you leaning up to try and chase his lips when he pulled away. He smirked down at you, licked his lips as he let go of you and walked over to his friends. Not before turning his head and winking at you the same way Jake had.

You blew him a kiss in response and rolled your eyes when he pretended to catch it. Your brain returned to the thought that you couldn’t quite believe he was really in front of you. Not just a figment of your imagination. God, how you’d missed him. And you were sure, none of his friends would have guessed that your presence alone would bring out a side of Bob that was more smug, secure in the knowledge that you loved him and were with him again.

“You’re not joining us, Y/N?” Jake called out, twirling the football in his hands. Some of the aviators – you thought, you heard Rooster and Payback – accompanied his question with several shouts of “Yeah, come on.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know a thing about American football. Apart from the fact that, if it lived up to its name, you wouldn’t be running around with the ball wedged under your arm. Should’ve named it American handball.” Your reply got a couple of “ooohs” and “She got you there, man”s from the others.

“Oh well, you enjoy the show then, sweetheart.” Jake grinned and you snorted at the callback to your earlier conversation in Bob’s living room. You weren’t quite sure if the heat that blossomed in your veins was the result of seeing Jake shirtless again – and clearly peacocking for your benefit – or if it was the heat of the California sun beating down at you.

You decided to join Penny in the shade of a parasol and watched the first two matches intently. You didn’t understand any of the rules, but Penny tried to explain them to you as best as she could. Not that it really mattered. You were barely paying to attention, too focused on watching Bob and Jake – on opposite teams. You bit your lip when Bob decided to take off his shirt after all, shocking his friends in return.

“You bring out a different side of him,” Penny suddenly said next to you, watching just as you were.

You turned your head, an eyebrow raised in question. “What?”

“Bob.” She nodded towards your boyfriend, who was just now running from Jake with the ball under his arm. Your eyes stayed trained on him, even as Jake caught him and tackled him to the ground. “I’ve never seen him this confident. Usually, he just hangs back, like he’s saving his strength or something. But with you, he even takes his shirt off.” She chuckled.

You blushed at the implications. “I don’t know. He’s almost smug when it’s just the two of us. But his shyness and consideration are part of his charm.” You smiled at her, then got up from your seat on the beach towel. “I think, I’m gonna go for a swim.”

You shimmied out of your jeans shorts and Bob’s shirt that you had taken hostage the last time he’d visited you in the UK, purposefully trying to ignore the whistling from the aviators. Until you recognized one of them to be Bob’s and your head snapped up and over to look in his direction. His hand lingered in front of his chin, and you blushed at the wide grin spreading on his face when your eyes locked – and at the reminder that you sported some distinctly shaped bruises on your upper thighs.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” said Penny with a smile of her own. You shook your head and chuckled, then went to where the waves crashed onto the beach.

While you dove into the water, you didn’t notice the way Phoenix took Bob aside for a moment. Nor would you have heard their conversation.

“What’s going on between Bagman and your girl?” she asked without any preamble. Bob froze, his eyes still locked on your head bobbing in the water as you swam not too far away from shore.

“I have no clue what you’re talkin’ about.”

Phoenix groaned, forcing Bob to look at her with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t lie to me, man. You must be blind not to see the way they’re flirting with each other. Especially Bagman. He’s got it down bad for your girlfriend. And you’re fine with that?”

Bob shrugged. Of course, the ease with which you retorted Jake’s flirtations stung a little. But it wasn’t like you reacted any more than if it were Bob doing the flirting. If anything, he could see clearly through your own mask of bravado around Jake, trying to hide the insecurities he knew so much about by now. And he’d be lying if he didn’t like the idea of you and Jake maybe acting on your mutual attraction. You and Bob had talked about it late last night, entangled in each other’s arms and on the brink of sleep. In fact, Bob had been the one to bring it up. The idea of seeing if Jake would work as a third person in your relationship. The flirting and teasing went on easy enough between you. Bob just wasn’t sure, if Jake would be willing to open up as much as he would need to, if he even wanted to join the two of you in this relationship.

“Hello? Earth to Bob. You there?”

He turned his attention back to Phoenix. “Yeah, yeah, ‘m here. Actually, I don’t mind. It’s just harmless fun. Y/N would never cheat on me, I trust her on that front. Besides, it would depend on your definition of cheating anyway.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Bob didn’t reply immediately, instead heeding Maverick’s call to return to the game. He fell into a jog back to the group but turned around to throw back at Phoenix: “Monogamy isn’t the only way to live in a relationship, ‘nix.”

The sun was way past its zenith when Dagger Squad called it quits on the football front. While the majority of the group agreed to just stay at the Hard Deck, you admitted to Bob that you were positively starving right now and if you could find a place to eat.

“Burger’s okay?” Bob asked, gently pulling your body closer, until yours was flush against his. You nodded, unable to hide the way your eyes flickered to his lips for a second. Distracted by the way he was licking them, unintentionally reminding you of the way his tongue felt between your legs. You cleared your throat and took a step backwards. Otherwise, you couldn’t guarantee, you wouldn’t have dragged him behind the dumpsters right now.

“I’ll just tell Phoenix, we won’t be joining them, okay?” Bob leaned down, kissing you quickly, before waiting for your response.

“Yep. Would you … mind if we asked Jake to come with us? Given what we talked about last night and this morning, I just … kinda wanna try to get a minute to see if this would actually work. I mean, we haven’t even suggested it to him yet, so, I just thought –” Bob silenced your rambling by pressing his index finger against your lips, then he moved his hand to brush his knuckles against your cheek.

He was smiling his lopsided smile when he replied: “You know, I don’t mind. Do you want to ask him or should I?”

“I’ll go. You tell Phoenix.” You leaned up on tiptoes to press a quick kiss of your own against his lips, your hands resting on his chest that was once again covered up by his Navy T-shirt.

“’kay. Meet at the car?” he asked, and you nodded, before trotting off towards where Jake stood with Javy.

“Well, would you look at that. The princess graces us with her presence.” Jake grinned at you and you rolled your eyes at the new nickname. Really? Princess? You could deal with sweetheart, but princess was a step too far. Even if he’d said it with a light sarcastic undertone. “What can we do for you?”

Since he didn’t look like he would further comment on the sudden appearance of princess in his vocabulary, you didn’t mention it and instead chose to get right to it. “Robby and I were just wondering if you wanted to come with us, we’re gonna get burgers for dinner. And seeing as you’re still staying at Bob’s place and we came here with one car, it just might be easier if you –”

“Sure.”

You hadn’t even finished before Jake had agreed. In fact, he’d been so quick to say yes, you were stunned into silence for a few moments. You blinked at him. “Okay, then. We’re meeting Bob at the car.”

“Lead the way, darlin’.” Jake tilted his head a little downwards. Not that he wasn’t always looking down at you – he was as tall as Bob, after all. Bob just … didn’t always feel as tall. He made himself small sometimes, which you understood. Sometimes it was just easier to try and be invisible instead of standing out like Jake apparently always did.

You quickly said goodbye to Javy and then walked around the bar towards the car, where Bob was already waiting for you, leaning against the hood, his hands in the pockets of his swim trunks. He pushed himself off the car when he saw you approach.

“So, where do you wanna go? Leroy’s?” Jake suggested when you’d reached Bob.

“Sounds good.” Bob answered for both of you. After all, this was your first time in California and in Fightertown. You had no idea what was good here – just knew that you were really hungry, and you’d probably die in the next five minutes if they didn’t get a move on.

You’d spent the drive from the Hard Deck to Leroy’s – full name actually being “Leroy’s Fantastical Burger Shack” – talking about the football game. Or rather, Bob and Jake were talking about it. You just listened and tried to wrap your head around the rules. While you were studying the menu and ultimately decided on a veggie burger, you noticed the look Bob shot you over the menus. He seemed to silently ask you if everything was okay, since you hadn’t said much over the last couple of minutes.

Even Jake seemed to notice. He put his menu down and looked at you from across the table, a twinkle in those green eyes. “So, how’d you enjoy your first Californian beach day?”

You smiled, warmth spreading throughout your chest at the two of them caring enough for you to pull you into the conversation. Even though Bob recognized the signs that you were exhausted and that’s why you’d fallen silent, not because you didn’t want to participate or felt left out. “It was … good. Been a while since I got to swim in the ocean. I just think, I might have gotten too much sunlight. I’m exhausted.”

“And here I thought, that might have something to do with what you two got up to last night,” Jake replied, the corners of his mouth twitching. You couldn’t help the smile growing into a grin on your face. So, this is where he wanted to steer the conversation? Fine. Two could play that game. Or more than two people, for that matter.

“That reminds me, we never finished our talk from this morning.” Before you could continue, the waitress came to take your orders. And you couldn’t fault her for batting her eyelashes at Jake. To your surprise, he let her down gently. You’d expected Jake to take her up on her flirting, maybe disappear into the bathroom for a bit before returning to you. After all, Bob had said, he was a nice guy if you got to him better – but that Jake was also still a bit of a womanizer. Scratch that, he was a big ass womanizer. But Jake didn’t leave. Instead, his eyes kept flitting between you and Bob. That small gesture alone sent heat blossoming through your chest down into your stomach. Maybe Bob had been right in suggesting Jake as a third person in your relationship.

“Right, where were we?” Bob tried to steer the conversation back to the topic at hand before you’d been interrupted by the waitress.

“The talk we had this morning,” you replied. You blinked, looked out through the window onto the relatively busy street outside. Gathering your strength before you said what you wanted to next: “Robby and I have a suggestion to make, Jake. This is only temporary, but it’s a suggestion nevertheless.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart. I’m curious what comes next.” Jake leaned forward, bracing his chin in his hands, with his elbows on the table. You looked at Bob, who nodded encouragingly and took your hand over the table, lightly squeezing it.

“It could be more though, if you want,” Bob helped you along.

You saw Jake’s mega-watt smile flicker; he furrowed his brows.

“I don’t know how familiar you are with the concept of polyamory. But that doesn’t really matter right now anyway. Uh …”

“Are you two asking me to join you for a threesome?” Jake now raised one of his eyebrows. While you could see the glimmer of desire – and was that hope, too? – in his eyes, his face remained serious. He leaned back a bit, as if he was suddenly wary of you. Maybe even scared that this was all an elaborate prank to get him back for watching you last night.

“And … more, if we all want and it goes well,” Bob replied. You nodded in agreement.

“We’re not joking, Jake. You were right, I do like what I see. And I actually enjoy flirting with you. I just want you to know, this would require communication. Honest communication. I don’t expect you to rattle down your whole life’s story in front of us. Just … Be honest,” you explained. When you were done, you saw Jake take a deep breath. And that look of yearning from this morning was back on his face. “Okay,” he said after a couple of seconds passed. “What would you like to know?”

#robert bob floyd x afab!reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader x jake hangman seresin #robert 'bob' floyd x reader x jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun: maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x afab!reader #sophie writes

64 notes · View notes

sacrificialblood · 2 years

Note

ok ok i ask

teehee 😜😜

It started with good intentions really. You were struggling to open a jar of jam and he was just passing through, on his way out to the yard to start his morning chores, and he almost just leaves you to it — everyone has to pull their own weight and you’re no exception to that.

He’s still getting used to you. Still doesn’t trust or even like you. But Mama does, so it has to count for something, right?

You look so pathetic trying to open up that jar and he just snatched it right out of your hands, even as you cry out indignantly that you did not want or need his help, and he pops the lid immediately, shoves the jar back in your hands and turns back toward the door.

“I loosened that up for you!”

He’s already out the door.

It happens often. A lot of foods are preserved and pickled to extended shelf life for when hard time fall on the Hewitts. You struggle with the jars that have been freshly sealed and somehow he is always on scene when you’re prying at the jar and tapping its side on the edge of the counter or slapping the bottom of the jar to get the lid to pop. And each time he manages to open it for you.

You don’t ever ask for help, he just does whenever he’s close.

So when you do ask for help, he’s almost wary of entering the kitchen, even as you hang your head and hold out the jar for him to take in complete and utter defeat.

To his shock, you kiss the cheek of his mask and shuffled back to your work, pointedly ignoring his stare and questioning mumble.

He just leaves you alone, doesn’t go to help you when you don’t ask for it. Thomas doesn’t understand why it was so different, why he was given a reward for his help that time and not some snappy remark.

He doesn’t understand but he respects the boundary.

You don’t ask for help often, but every time you do, he answers the call without fail and comes to expect a kiss. Thomas sure does love positive attention from you.

The more it happens, the more he realizes it doesn’t happen enough for his liking.

He starts tightening the lids on the jars you use the most at night before he wanders on up to bed. A ritual for him that continues even after you become partners.

He stopped using the bedroom upstairs when he was a teenager. There’s not much in there, just a bed and night stand and a tall dresser. It’s all shrouded in dust and bed made up with stale sheets.

He sleeps in the basement, in a little corner he made up for himself with a mattress stacked on top of a few wood pallets. He enjoys the privacy. The basement is his domain, no one in the Hewitt house dares enter his space. Only Charlie’s ever gotten as far down as a few steps before turning back up and shouting down at him from the doorway. The family may be involved in killing but he’s the one that butchers.

When his room upstairs turns into yours and then by extension both of yours after a few months, you turn it into a safe haven. You fill it with color and creature comforts. Blankets and pillows taken from victims and piled high up on the mattress even though at night you can really only sleep with a flat sheet and all but two pillows get flung off the bed.

You make shelves under the guidance of Monty and fill them with records and books and trinkets from tourist attractions you’ve never been to. You decorate the walls with little paintings of chickens you saw out in the yard or of cows and pigs. Simple little paintings of everyday life out on the farm, scenes that make you happy.

All that color and life and the unabashed way you express yourself through your belongings makes him happy and begins to add his own decorations to the mix.

They clash but you never say a disparaging word, only encourage him because this is his bedroom too, he should have a say in what it looks like, let him fill it with things that make him happy too.

You don’t realize that all your things, all those little reminders of you in the room make him happier than he’s ever been.

There’s often not a lot of livestock on the Hewitt farm. Maybe a few chickens and a handful of pigs at a time. Rarer are cows. Those aren’t as easy to steal. Still, Hoyt and Thomas are able to swing it on occasion. You live for the days when animals are slaughtered for food, excited at eating meat that doesn’t make you gag or push your meal around on your plate.

That being said, since it’s so rare, Luda Mae and Thomas teach you how to use every last bit of the animal.

You’re squeamish at first, seeing Luda Mae cut the head off a chicken or Thomas draining the blood from a pig. But you have to learn and show that you've learned and before long, you’re the one cutting off chicken heads and you’re the one making cuts along arteries to drain the blood.

You learn how to make bone broth, how to suck the marrow out of bones for broths or sauces or on top of bread, how to skin an animal’s hide or pluck a chicken’s feathers.

Thomas is quite proud that you catch on so quick. He huffs and puffs and rolls his eyes at first when the knife shakes in your hand. He wraps his hand around yours to steady it, walking you through where you need to cut. It’s simple to him, something he’s done thousands of times, second nature to him since he was a child working down at the slaughterhouse. He has to remind himself that it’s all new to you, that you didn’t grow up the way he had to.

If there’s not much to do, no meat to butcher or no chores to do, you’ll sit out on an old porch swing together, watch the sun go down and see the fireflies come out at twilight.

He likes when you read to him. When he was in school, he struggled with reading but he enjoyed story time. Sitting down on the class rug and listening at his teachers feet to the story of the day. He’s never heard of a lot of the books you find and neither do you, but on occasion you stumble upon a few classics. He prefers the schlocky pulp magazines and books you find to anything else, especially ones belonging to the western or science fiction genres.

It’s peaceful ending the day with you sitting between his legs, pressing yourself against his chest while he reclines against the headboard. You prop the book against your stomach and read to him in a soft voice so you don’t wake anyone up with your late night read aloud session. When you get too tired to hold the book, he will do it for you.

He’s a messy eater, hardly, if ever, uses utensils, licks his fingers clean and wipes his mouth with the arm of his shirt. It’s not a pretty sight. No amount of pleading or coaxing will get him to have proper table manners.

He’s the last one to sleep, first to wake up. While family dinner is never to be missed, breakfast has looser rules around it. People come and go as they please, grabbing whatever Luda Mae made and getting on with their morning. With all the chores he has, you’re not likely to see him much during the day, you’re luckier when he doesn’t have work to do down in the basement.

His hair is a damn hassle. No amount of brushing or washing or styling will prevent the birds nest that appears by the end of the day. You’ve come close to cutting it out of frustration one night while you were brushing his hair, you sitting on the mattress and him sitting on the floor between your legs. He doesn’t care much about it, he’s never held as much concern for his hair as he does his own face. Be that as it may, you don’t think he’s be too fond of your decision to cut his hair without telling him. You just stick to dutifully brushing out his hair, trying to get it manageable. Your hard work is always ruined though.

Rarely do you ever see him without a mask. It takes a long time for him to trust you enough to sleep in the same room together, let alone show you his face unobscured. He gets comfortable changing masks in front of you and sometimes you can glean a sliver of his mouth or cheeks or what’s left of his nose. You try to be respectful but your curiosity gets to you and you’re able to push it down, most of the time.

He catches you looking once and he freaks out. He doesn’t hurt you, he scares you, but whatever turmoil he’s feeling he turn in on himself, usually in the form of self harm. There’s not much you can do to calm him down and if you try to intervene chances are he will only get angry at you. His safe space is the basement, where he feels like he’s in control, a room that’s all his as grotesque and macabre as it is, it’s his. He will hurry through the house to get behind the heavy sliding door and to his sanctuary where he will not emerge for several hours. No one goes near him, least of all you.

He comes back up when he’s ready, cradling new wounds that you clean and patch up. You apologize and he accepts.

You learned your lesson for when he eventually comes around to taking off his mask around you for more than a few seconds. You look down at your feet, turn your body to face away from him.

You don’t know his true face for years. He has to bring your chin up to look at him and even then your eyes are closed. The o oh thing that gets you to open them are his fingers quickly skimming over your eyelids. It’s a leap of faith, the biggest one he’s ever take.

#thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #slasher x reader #my writing #🌙

298 notes · View notes