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gloomwitchwrites · 6 months

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Dark Knowledge: Part One

Miraak x Hermaeus Mora x Female Dragonborn Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, canon-typical violence, brief blood, horror elements, tentacles

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Part One of Dark Knowledge

The Dragonborn opens up a Black Book and steps into the realm of Hermaeus Mora.

Part Two

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // dark knowledge masterlist

On the island of Solstheim, deep within a cave, is a book.

Before you, the book rests upon an intricately carved pedestal large enough to hold the massive tome. The walls and floor around it are tentacles sculpted from stone. They form a tangled mural behind the pedestal and book.

It is a Black Book. A tome of esoteric knowledge. A Daedric artifact attributed to Hermaeus Mora, the Prince of knowledge, memory, and Fate. You’ve heard the tales—mostly from one of Master Neloth’s wayward stories. With your reputation, Neloth asked you to retrieve a Black Book, giving you its precise location.

Maneuvering through the cave was the easy part. Now that you stand before the massive tome, your feet have turned to solid steel. The book is bound in a black cover that appears soft to the touch as if it’s a living thing and not just Daedric reading material. On the cover is the symbol of Hermaeus Mora. Between the pages, a black mist leaks out and surrounds the book in its immediate vicinity. That doesn’t account for the oddly pulsing air, as if the book is vibrating, disturbing the space around it.

You do not move closer. You do not approach. You stand near the base of the stairs that you just descended. There is no eagerness in you to take a closer look.

“So. This is what Master Neloth wanted us to retrieve?” asks Teldryn Sero. The Dunmer mercenary stands directly behind you and to the right of your shoulder. He crosses his arms and also keeps a decent distance away. “Looks foul. I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

Without looking away from the Black Book, you answer him. “Sounds like you’re starting to care about me, Teldryn.”

Teldryn snorts and leans in, his helmeted head appearing next to your face. “You pay me to care. Therefore, I shall. I like the coin. Keeps my pockets full.”

“Ever the poet, Teldryn.”

“Naturally.”

The good humor is just a front. This…thing is repulsive, and you’re not sure you want to touch it, let alone open it.

Master Neloth isn’t the only reason you’re after this thing. Back on Skyrim, during a visit to the town of Riverwood, a trio of cultist attacked you. Before they lashed out, they mentioned someone named “Miraak.” From there, you came to Solstheim, only to find parts of the local population seeking out stone pillars. There they toiled, repeating a mantra that made no sense.

It all led to Skaal Village where the shaman, Storn Crag-Strider, diverted you to Saering’s Watch to learn a Word of Power. The All-Maker stones, as Storn called them, are all cleansed. But it only pushed you deeper into this twisted treachery. Storn was adamant about not turning to Hermaeus Mora for assistance in defeating Miraak, but did mention Black Books and who would know more.

Master Neloth was that person.

Now, you’re here, staring at the thing everyone’s been talking about, and you’re not entirely sure who to trust.

As if drawn by an invisible tether, your left foot slides forward toward the Black Book. Your mind registers it only when Teldryn reaches out and grabs your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he asks with a whispered sharpness. Teldryn pushes you up against the stair’s central support pillar. “You are not touching that.”

“How else are we supposed to get it to Neloth?” you snap.

“We don’t,” replies Teldryn. “I love gold but I’m not stupid. We don’t need to do this. There are plenty of other jobs out there for us to do that don’t involve anything like that.” Teldryn emphasizes his distaste by pointing at the Black Book.

“But I’m the Dragonborn. I have to do this.”

“Do you? Do you really?”

You square your shoulders and stare Teldryn down. “Yes. That’s my destiny as—”

“Is that what those old loons up on the mountain told you?” interrupts Teldryn. “That you have to solve all of Tamriel’s problems?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing. You are not beholden to anyone but yourself.” Teldryn pauses a moment and then inclines his head. “Except me. Still owe me from that bet we made in Windhelm.”

“If I pay up, will you stop talking?”

Teldryn considers. “No,” he says after a few long seconds.

The two of you turn your heads in the direction of the Black Book. The black mist around it appears thicker, and distantly, you hear voices whispering. Yet this inaudible chorus seems miles away, their voices just existing at the edges of your hearing. Teldryn is Mer, and his ears are sharper than your human ones.

“Teldryn?” you ask softly. “Do you hear that?”

His head tilts to the right an inch. “Hear what?”

You focus in on the sound, pushing all your attention into deciphering the message. It is a chorus, a resounding force of voices all harmonizing together, but every time you try to pick a word out, the understanding slips and you’re left with nothing.

“Voices,” you murmur. “Do you not hear them?”

Teldryn shakes his head and then slowly pivots to face the dark tome. You take a step closer and Teldryn blocks your path.

“How can you not hear it?” You’re not speaking to Teldryn but to the air, thinking out loud rather than seeking an answer.

Teldryn is no barrier. You push past him and make it five full steps before Teldryn is able to cut you off. He places his hands on your shoulders, halting your forward momentum.

“The Black Book is speaking to you. Hermaeus Mora is calling you to him,” says Teldryn, shaking your shoulders.

Your nostrils flare and you smell ink. It is thick and viscous. “I should open it.” The words fall from your lips easily, as if you are one of the possessed and hearing Miraak’s mantra.

“This is insanity,” hisses Teldryn. “You’re not risking your life like this.”

The voices strengthen, and between each intake of breath, you hear their song. It is not one language but many, and they all speak in unison, their words matching up in syllable and pitch. Some of the voices sound entirely mortal. Others are odd. Primordial. You do not understand them and their strangeness batters away at your brain.

Something wet drips onto your upper lip. You don’t wipe it away.

“Your nose is bleeding,” murmurs Teldryn. Behind the Chitin helmet, all you can see are the Dunmer’s eyes. But they speak volumes. His concern is evident.

The tug to open the book is unyieldingly powerful. There is no part of your body that isn’t sizzling with the need to touch the fleshy cover and reveal the secrets inside. In the end, you will have to open a Black Book. In the end, you will have to involve yourself. All roads lead there. You know this in your marrow.

“They’ll never stop coming,” you say, and each word is laced with sadness.

This is your purpose. This is the life placed before you. The gift of the Voice is not one you asked for. It is not something you ever wished upon yourself. But there is no way to give it back. Time and Fate will eventually catch up to you.

Better to face it all now.

“You owe no one nothing.” Teldryn is not a liar. At least, not to you. He respects you even when he disagrees.

“I know.” The admission is painful.

“I can’t protect you once you open that book. We don’t know what will happen.”

You shake your head. “Miraak’s temple is too heavily guarded. I cannot seek answers there.”

“We cannot seek answers there,” corrects Teldryn, his voice breaking slightly. “Where you go, I go.”

“You only say that because I pay you well.”

Teldryn gently rests his helmet against your forehead. “You pay me shit.”

The bit of blood on your lip rolls down to your chin. “Don’t wait for me,” you whisper. “Whatever you do, Teldryn. Don’t. Wait.”

Teldryn’s chest heaves with a great sigh. “I get your homestead in Falkreath.”

“Deal,” you laugh as another wet drop falls onto your upper lip. Teldryn loves that house, and it’s been nothing but trouble for you.

With a final squeeze of your shoulders, Teldryn pulls away, moving out of your path, revealing the Black Book. What dwells inside the book is the unknown factor. You could go mad. You could experience visions. You could simply disappear from this plane. There is no telling what might happen.

The harmonious voices strengthen as you stride closer. On the cover, the symbol of Hermaeus Mora begins to glow a sickly green. Around the book, the black mist thickens. In its foggy depths, the shadows of tentacles unfurl. They are transparent. Faint, dark whisps. The tentacles venture outwards, reaching as if seeking an embrace.

Another step. Another. Another still and then you’re right there, staring down at the thing that won’t stop talking.

Neloth will have his book, but you need this to end.

The tips of your fingers brush against the edge of the Black Book’s cover. It is not fleshy as you expect it to be. It is coarse, but not sharp or scratchy. Slowly, your fingers curl around the edge. There is a hesitation just before you start to open the cover. Moving with you, the pages follow the cover, and then the yellowed papers inside present themselves.

At first, there is nothing. The pages you stare at are blank. In the next second, all sound disappears as if the room is frozen in time. It is followed by a soft pop, and the world comes hurtling forward.

The blank pages begin to fill in archaic, living writing. The unknown words and symbols move across the page in systematic lines and circles. Some are large and easy to see while others are so tiny they float around in the background in faint swirls.

Between the pages is a void. It emerges from the binding, moving outward over the pages. It is an abyss, and its emptiness drags you forward, your boots lifting off the floor until you’re on your toes.

Tentacles burst forth from the darkness. These are not the misty tendrils from earlier but real, tangible limbs that slide over and around you. They wrap around your arms and shoulders. They suction to your face and neck. They probe and push even as you thrash about, trying to break free.

Escape is impossible. You’re hauled forward, tipping down into the abyss, delving into the darkness. There is a loud roaring and then your feet are on solid ground.

The abyss is gone, and instead…

You’re not entirely sure where you are.

Around you is an alcove made of black metal. Attached to it is an archway made of books that connect to a long hallway. The books within the archway are stacked on top of each other, almost seeming to melt together near the center curve of the arch. Beneath your feet is stone. Some of it is gray like the rock on the side of mountain. Other chunks of stone are black and dull. There are pages from books scattered all over the ground but they aren’t moving. They simply rest where they lay.

You bend at the knees and reach out, sliding a fingernail under the corner of the nearest page. Its only lifts an inch or so, and with it comes something syrupy and sticky. You immediately retract your arm and stand, wiping away the reside on your leather pants.

Slowly, you rotate, surveying your surroundings. It’s only when you turn around that you notice the Black Book. The symbol of Hermaeus Mora does not glow. There is no black mist or odd whispering.

Without second guessing the choice, you grab the cover and open the book, expecting to find what you did just seconds ago.

Nothing.

The pages are blank.

You flip the page. Nothing. Flip again. Still blank.

You go to the beginning, examining every inch of paper. No living words or symbols appear. The book is dead. Silent.

Frowning, you spin around and stare down the long hallway. The air is stale and absent of wind. Glancing up, you peer through the small holes in the black metal. A glowing, green sky greets you. There are streaks in the sky that move like clouds but their radiance is more like lightning. Shifting on your feet, you change perspective, and discover a black abyss cutting through the green sky.

Is that what you fell through?

As you watch the portal, black tentacles drop from its darkness and sway as if caught on a breeze. But you feel no wind against your skin. Then again, you don’t sense a temperature either. You’re not cold but you’re not warm, as if the very atmosphere is adjusting to your body temperature, making the stale air around you feel like absolutely nothing.

Wherever you are, it is an atrocity.

Without a way to go back, the only path is forward.

With overly slow movements, you unsheathe the sword at your waist. The hallway isn’t well lit, but there is enough light to see by. Crouching slightly, you move on silent feet, keeping close to the wall without touching it.

The stone floor gives way to twisted metal, and the walls are nothing but books. You do not stop to peer at any of them. This place is dangerous, and you need to be alert at all times. Survival is essential. Information is important. Any clues that you can take back to Neloth or Storn might help in unveiling the mystery behind this stranger known as Miraak.

Hermaeus Mora is not unknown to you. You grew up on stories about Aedra and Daedra. They were standard tales, but when you were a child, those beings seemed far from the reality of your life.

It is so very different now.

Neloth did not shy away from talking about the Daedric Prince. It was Miraak that the Dunmer dismissed, seeming more concerned with Mora and the Black Books.

What was it that Neloth said about Mora’s permanent influence? Madness. Loss of self-awareness. Black spots in the whites of the eyes. There are no mirrors and you cannot see your reflection in your sword. You’re not mad, but for a brief moment you thought you were when Teldryn couldn’t hear the voices. Your self-awareness is intact. At least, for now.

Storn called Mora the Skaal’s enemy, and spoke of hidden Skaal knowledge that Mora wishes to obtain only for the sheer pleasure of possessing it. But Storn did not say more, merely focusing on the destruction of Miraak’s influence.

As you round a corner, you arrive at an open platform. Instead of approaching, you hang back, observing your newly unobstructed view of the environment. From here, the glowing sky and black portals are in clear view. Various structures dot the landscape, and it stretches in all directions.

But there is no landscape. There are no trees or blades of grass. What should be the ground isn’t rock or dirt but a dark liquid that resembles black water. It is as dark as parchment ink, and the surface of it ripples slightly as if something moves beneath it. You have zero desire to know if its as fluid as an ocean or thick like honey.

The platform itself is rounded and juts out slightly from the opening. As you step closer, the platform shifts and fans upward, extending like the wings of a dragonfly. Another appears from above, connecting to it to form a bridge.

There is a tower there, the outside of the structure nothing but pillars of books. Your gaze sweeps across it and the surrounding area. Nothing jumps out at you except the strangeness of the place. Nothing and no one lurk nearby.

Cautiously, you step out onto the bridge. Still, there is no wind. The air is still. With silent steps, you creep to the next platform. When you crest the small curve in the bridge just before the landing, you come to a stop and immediately drop to your stomach.

A strange creature hovers just inside the archway. It has four arms, two of which hold books while the others rest against its sides. Its head is squid-like with two thin eyes and no eyelids. Hanging from its shoulders are rags of some kind, but at this distance, it might also be fur.

It has not noticed you, and you use this to your advantage. Silently, you set your sword next to you, and remove your ebony bow from your back along with an arrow. Easing up to a low crouch, you pull back on the bowstring, aiming the pointed tip of the arrow at the head of the bizarre creature.

With a book in hand, it seems such a gentle creature. It’s head tentacles flare as it reads as if the words on the page are amusing. A brief moment of hesitation stays your hand. Then you remember the voices and mist, of how blood dripped from your nose from the brawling nature of it all.

Your finger slips from the bowstring.

The arrow whistles.

It lifts its head in curiosity.

Making contact, the arrow slides between the creature’s eyes.

There is no noise or cry of pain. It vanishes in a brief vibration of mist. The rags it wore and the books it held hang suspended in the air before falling to the ground. The books hit hard. The rags drift slowly.

Before the rags touch the ground, you’re up and moving, returning your blade to its scabbard. You remove another arrow from the quiver. In this moment, you are a stealthy killer, a being of darkness in a place made for it.

Your humanity will not pause your hand. The answers you seek go beyond that. You are in Hermaeus Mora’s realm. You are alone. Teldryn is not here to help you. Everything going forward must be done with only yourself in mind.

As you step off the bridge, the dragonfly-like structures break apart. You glance back and meet open air.

A howl reaches your ears. It bites and claws, sounding of blood-filled lungs. All the hair on your arms stand on end, and your skin prickles with awareness. The awful sound comes again. It’s closer. Moving in. Trapping you against a threat of falling.

There is a ripple. A change that you sense. Of a predator seeking its prey.

You drop to your knees as a ball of vibrating air launches over your head. Spinning toward your assailant, you release the notched arrow. It strikes true, hitting another one of those creatures.

This one shrieks. Then doubles. A replicate appearing beside it.

With quick fingers, you release two more, sending the tentacle twins vanishing into puffs of mist.

It is clear that your presence has been detected. Stealth will be of little use if the beings of this realm are actively seeking you out.

Charging down the hall only proves what you expect. More of these creatures lurk nearby, actively waiting for you to make an appearance. These are not visible. They are beings of mist, and they solidify with a blink, popping up from nowhere before your very eyes.

The first surprises, nearly knocking you down.

The second almost grabs you. It’s clawed hand just grazing your leather armor.

The third hurtles into you, but you manage to roll into the fall, getting back on your feet with ease.

The bow is useless. They are too close, disappearing then reappearing in rapid succession. Your blade is sharp, and you are eager for a bit of blood.

The steel blade rings loudly and the first swing strikes true.

“Fus!” The power of your Voice slams into one of the tentacled creatures. It flinches back. Recoils from your blow. It is enough for you to drive forward.

You duck and weave, slicing through the air and dispatching your assailants with the skill that has made hundreds tremble.

But there is no blood. These creatures do not bleed. They simply vanish into mist.

Chest heaving, you finally have a moment to gauge your new surroundings. It’s a massive circular room. There are several large, metal double doors scattered throughout the room but the doors are shut, barring entry.

All expect one.

With resolve in every step, you march forward toward the open gate, passing rotting stacks of books and floating eyes with tiny tentacles. They look like horrific stars. They even blink, following you for a few strides before drifting off to move about the room.

You ascend the raised dais, pass through the doors, and up another flight of stairs before you’re spit out onto another platform.

Unlike the previous platforms, this one is already attached to a bridge. It spans a great expanse of black water, connecting to another tower. But there is too much open space between the towers, and there is zero cover. You would need to sprint, or use a Shout to speedily propel yourself across.

A roar from behind you stirs your feet.

“Wuld Nah!” In seconds, you’re halfway across the bridge, already sprinting to the other side, your arms and legs pumping with every step.

“Dovahkiin!”

The primordial voice is an anchor tied to your feet and you are in deep water. Sinking. You are sinking. The bridge beneath you is melting, sucking and solidifying around your boots.

With a cry, you reach down and try to lift your leg. Nothing. You are rooted to the spot.

A shadow falls across the bridge. A deep, unsettling, slimy sensation slithers up your spine and wraps around your throat. Your eyes are fixed to your submerged boots.

“Fate has led you here, to my realm, as I knew it would.” Your fingers tremble and you refuse to look up. “All seekers of knowledge come to my realm, sooner or later. That is what you are after, isn’t it? Knowledge. That is why you answered my call so willingly.”

No forms on your tongue. You did not come willingly. Or did you? Yes, the pull was there but you intended to open up the Black Book. Didn’t you?

You’re…certain?

A lone black tentacles drifts in front of your face. It wiggles slightly, moving toward your nose. It retreats slightly, and then with an odd gentleness, curls under your chin, lifting your face to the Daedric Prince floating in the sky.

Hermaeus Mora is a grotesque abomination. He is a green and black mass, a void of tentacles and eyes. His entire being pulsates, expanding and retracting as he…breathes? Do Daedric Lords need to breath? Or is this just a formality to make you more comfortable?

If it’s intentional on Mora’s part, it’s creepy, only adding to his aura. Hermaeus Mora is large, taking up so much space he’s all you can see. While he hovers in the air, Mora is not far from you. In fact, if you lift your hand and extend your arm, you’d easily touch him.

The large eye in the center of it all blinks slowly in observation. “Is the Last Dragonborn a fool? Speak, mortal. Why did you come to me?”

Deep in the recesses of your soul, a stubbornness blooms. Your mouth does not form the answer he’s seeking. Instead, your lips pull back, and you bare your teeth like a feral animal.

“If you are the Prince of Fate, surely you can answer such a simple question. All this knowledge around you, and yet you cannot form your own answer. I expected more.”

Hermaeus Mora bristles, his form expanding in size as his tentacles vibrate with irritation. “Be warned. Many have sought my halls. I have broken them all. You cannot evade me. You cannot resist.”

The bridge rumbles. Hermaeus Mora’s massive eye slides up to watch a point over your shoulder. Slowly, you turn, finding yet another abomination. This one is incredibly tall, almost amphibious and slightly humanoid. Each of its footsteps shake the bridge.

Mora is calm. Serene. The creature moves closer, each shattering step a threat.

“You are in my realm now, Dragonborn. Apocrypha will be your home. You will converse with me and I cannot wait to know your secrets.”

From the monster’s open mouth emerge a wave of tentacles. They wrap around your body. They cover your face and slide into your mouth, reaching toward your lungs.

“Sleep,” hums Hermaeus Mora as your consciousness begins to slip. “And then we shall talk.”

Part Two

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado

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kachikirby · 1 month

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NEW SD GUNDAM GAIDEN WORK HAS BEEN ANNOUNCED

So, first is the little intro about this work. It's a new entry banner called SD Gundam Gaiden NEO. (The Knight Gundam series is separated into different banners that each series falls under. The previous one was New Testament SD Gundam Gaiden.)

The motif for this series is the 2022 Gundam series Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury.

The title of this first entry is "The Forbidden Magic" and this first arc is "Shrine Maiden of the Dragon God".

I'll be translating stuff from the snippet on the P-Bandai page. (VPN needed to access it from outside Japan)

STORY

Many years ago, the Benerit Clan wiped out the Dragon Village. However, some villagers, mainly children, were able to flee into the deep forest. It has been said that mysterious magic since ancient times has been hidden there…

In the Benerit Clan, which destroyed the Dragon Village and built a city in the remaining wasteland, a struggle for supremacy was underway among the young chiefs of the three families. The control of that power spread to the surrounding area, and the people of the Dragon Village are once again discovered by the Benerit Clan.

Under orders from the head chief, Delling, the elites of the three families approached the silent forest…

CARD LIST

In numbered order: (1-01, 1-02, 1-03, and so on.)

Knight Gundam Lfrith VS Knight Beguir-Beu

Knight Gundam Lfrith

Knight Gundam Lfrith Jr.

Elder Cardo

Warrior Nadim

Summoner Elnora

Soldier Heingra

Knight Beguir-Beu

Magic Knight Aerial

Mage Suletta

Summoner Prospera

Spirit Spirit Geist

Spirit IceBurn

Sprit Ericht

Shrine Maiden Miorine

Warrior Demi Trainer

Hunter Demi Trainer

Hunter Keinanji

Hunter Chuchu

Blacksmith Nika

Shopkeeper Martin

Waitress Lilique, Aliya

Monster Goblin Kapell-Kuu

Monster Orc Clibarri

Monster Bear Azrawan

Monster Killer Hosler II

Soldier Demi Garrison

Warrior Dilanza

Fencer Heindree

Mage Zowort

Noble Knight Dilanza

Noble Knight Michaelis

Noble Knight Gundam Pharact

Monster Pharact Dragon

Noble Knight Guel

Noble Knight Shaddiq

Noble Knight Elan

Chief Delling

Shaman Nugen, Kal, Nevola, Golneri

Item - Shrine Maiden's Tomato

Revealed Individual Card Translations

Magic Knight Gundam Aerial

"Water, Fire, lend me your strength! Magic Sword Gunbit Rondo!"

Welder of the Magic Sword Escutcheon

Mage Suletta

"If you move forward you gain two, if you run you gain one...I-I'll protect you!"

Dragon Village Mage

Shrine Maiden Miorine

"I made this tomato. Eat this, and you'll definitely win!"

Shrine maiden who worships the dragon

Noble Knight Dilanza

"I'll correct the ignorance of these hicks!"

Unites the Warriors of the Benerit Clan's Jeturk Family

Noble Knight Guel

"I'll get the priestess, I'll get the chief's position, I'll get it all, I'll show you!"

Benerit Clan, Next Head of the Jeturk Family

Noble Knight Gundam Pharact

"I can expose your true form."

Unites the Mages of the Benerit Clan's Peil Family

Noble Knight Elan

"I'd like to hear more about you."

Benerit Clan, Next Head of the Peil Family

Noble Knight Michaelis

"The dragon's shrine maiden is still alive? This is getting interesting."

Unites the Fencers of the Benerit Clan's Grasley Family

Noble Knight Shaddiq

"If you're a survivor of that village, I won't leave you alone."

Benerit Clan, Next Head of the Grasley Family

Additional art

Current Thoughts

I hope these aren't the final card artwork because it looks a bit bland with the default silver background. The ones with gradient look a bit better, but they are nowhere near as the fully rendered backgrounds in New Testament or previous works.

They do not give a gender, but I feel like Aerial is male here and idk how to feel about it. The card list does mention Ericht separately as a spirit, so that kind of alleviates my concerns. I just don't know how to feel about it.

The first chapter is Shrine Maiden of the Dragon God, which likely refers to Mio.

One of the spirits is Spirit Geist, which is one of Roux's main summoned Spirits in Kikoushin Densetsu, which makes me think this is in the Dabat Kingdom, but at the same time, I'm not sure since we've yet to learn where and when in the SD Gundam Gaiden timeline this takes place in.

It would make sense to have a story that takes place in that kingdom's area, since Seikihei Monogatari is the only one whose yet to have a post-Saddrac Knight Saga era work connected to it.

#sd gundam gaiden neo #the forbidden magic #sd gundam #gundam the witch from mercury #sd gundam translation

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journeytothewestresearch · 9 months

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Japanese Monkey God

User @red-lights-burning asked if there was a connection between Sun Wukong and the monkey gods of Japan. They provided lovely info, which was split between two asks, but I decided to put everything together into a single post.

@red-lights-burning asked: Japan has their own monkey protector named Masaru AKA Sannō Gongen, who was created back in the early 9th century by Tendai Buddhist sect founder Saichō shortly after he returned from China. So it makes me think if Monkey King was already a thing in the 800’s and if he was one of the inspirations for Masaru. A description from onmarkproductions (a really great site for anyone curious about Japanese Buddhism and Shintō) MASARU 神猿 Literally “Kami Monkey.” Masaru is the sacred monkey and protector of the Hie Shrine (aka Hie Jinja 日吉神社, Hiyoshi Taisha 日吉大社). The term “Masura” is often translated as “excel,” reflecting the belief that this sacred monkey can overcome all obstacles and prevail against all evil. Masaru is thus considered a demon queller par excellence (魔が去る・何よりも勝る). In the Heian era, Masaru (also translated “Great Monkey”) was invoked in Kōshin rituals to stop the three worms from escaping the body. Masaru also appears in Japanese scrolls used in Koushin rites. Here’s a couple other descriptions SANNŌ GONGEN 山王権現 SARUGAMI 猿神 Fertility, Childbirth & Marriage Monkeys are patrons of harmonious marriage and safe childbirth at some of the 3,800 Hie Jinja shrines in Japan. These shrines are often dedicated to Sannō Gongen 山王権現 (lit. = mountain king avatar), who is a monkey. Sannō is the central deity of Japan’s Tendai Shinto-Buddhist multiplex on Mt. Hiei (Shiga Prefecture, near Kyoto). The monkey is Sannou’s Shinto messenger (tsukai 使い) and Buddhist avatar (gongen 権現). The monkey messenger is also known as Sarugami (猿神; literally “monkey kami”). Sarugami is the Shinto deity to whom the three monkeys (hear, speak, see no evil) are reportedly faithful. The monkey shrine at Nakayama Shrine 中山神社 in Tsuyama City, Okayama Prefecture, is dedicated to a red monkey named Sarugami, who blesses couples with children. According to shrine legends, the local people at one time offered human sacrifices (using females) to this deity. The shrine is mentioned in the Konjaku Monogatari-shu (今昔物語集), a collection of over 1000 tales from India, China, and Japan written during the late Heian Period (794-1192 AD). Sarugami, like Sannou Gongen, is also worshipped as the deity of easy delivery and child rearing. At such shrines, statues of the monkey deity are often decked in red bibs -- a color closely associated with fertility, children, and protection against evil forces and diseases like smallpox.

My answer:

I've read only a little bit about Japanese monkey gods. I previously referenced Sarugami in my article about the possible shamanic origins of primate-based boxing in China. Part of footnote #14 reads:

In Japan, monkeys were also associated with horses and healing via the warding of evil. Apart from monkeys being kept in stables like their Chinese counterparts, their fur was applied to the harnesses and quivers of Samurai because the warriors believed it gave them more control over their mounts. Furthermore, monkey body parts have been consumed for centuries as curative medicines, and their hides have even been stuffed to make protective amulets (kukurizaru) to ward off illness. Likewise, a genre of painting depicts divine monkeys (saru gami), messengers of the mountain deity, performing Da Nuo-like dances to ensure a good rice harvest (Ohnuki-Tierney, 1987, pp. 43-50)

The aforementioned article suggests a connection between monkeys and the Shang-Zhou Da Nuo (大儺 / 難; Jp: Tsuina, 追儺) ritual, an ancient, war-like, shamanic animal dance designed to drive away demonic illness and influences. The pertinent section reads:

It’s possible that the “twelve animals” of the Da Nuo exorcism refer to some precursor of the Chinese zodiacal animals (rat, ox, tiger, rabbit, dragon, snake, horse, goat, monkey, rooster, dog, and pig). If true, monkey fur could have been among the animal products worn by the ritual army. After all, monkeys have long been associated with curing illness and expelling evil in East Asia. [14] A modern example of exorcists who don monkey fur are the shamans of the Qiang ethnic group of Sichuan. The Qiang worship monkeys as the source and savior of their sacred knowledge, as well as the progenitor of their people, the latter being a myth cycle common among ethnic groups of Tibet and southwestern China.

This is the only relevant info that comes to mind. But based on what I know, I would guess that Sun Wukong and the monkey gods of Japan draw upon the same cultural sources. I hope this helps.

Source:

Ohnuki-Tierney, E. (1987). The Monkey as Mirror: Symbolic Transformations in Japanese History and Ritual. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

#asks #Sun Wukong #Monkey King #Journey to the West #JTTW #Japanese Buddhism #Shinto #Buddhism #monkey god #shamanism #Lego Monkie Kid #LMK

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vasito-de-leche · 1 month

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crawling back from a hole to GEEK about suitcase gang members that would get along the best 💁‍♀️

- x, medicine pocket, and sotheby: lethal IRB nightmares

- med poc and sotheby: explosive concoctions

- centurion and tennant: harbingers of serial bankruptcy

- mesmer jr. and 6: orderliness

- dikke and 6: law and order (dun dun)

- melania and bkornblume: the thief and her gal in the chair (they're a ship too)

- eagle and shamane: shamane is MAD impressed at this girl's wilderness skills + will also be willing to teach her stuff

- horropedia, an an lee, and blonney: it's always horro and blonney / horro and an an but never these three together. you can bet that blon and horro surrounds an an to ask about her ghost vacuum

- blonney and desert flannel: she's in patch 1.5 but her design tells me that she's rocking her closet which is a bonding topic with blonney

- lilya and jiu niangzi: girl is in patch 1.6 but all that is known for now for global players is that she makes killer alcohol. cue lilya as her willing taste-tester

- sputnik 1 and 37: just 37 marvelling this perfect sphere

- alien T and 37: this girl again eyeing the ufo's circumference

- kaala bauna and voyager: kaala has a question or two about the heavenly bodies

- dikke and knight: s w o r d

ohhh fun! here's a few dynamics and characters I think would get along since you've shared your own!

Baby Blue and every character younger than her--especially Balloon Party

Baby Blue is just 17 but I do like to think that, bc of her connection with Wonderland and innocence, she would act as a big sister for many of the younger arcanists. especially Balloon Party since the two reject adults or the idea of growing up!

Blonney and Bunny Bunny

both characters have a focus on movie or hollywood as a concept, both are also girls around the same age range who know what it's like to be put into very restrictive stereotypes (the blonde bimbo, the southerner). I think they'd get along, and it's very funny to think about Blonney go straight to Bunny Bunny for help if Jessica ever needs help, since Bunny Bunny's family had a farm lmfao

but I also just rlly love girls who are total opposites on a surface level being close friends bc of the small little things they do have in common

Sweetheart and Bette, following the same reasoning as the Blonney and Bunny Bunny

THE MOST FAMOUS ACTRESS AND A STRUGGLING ACTRESS...BEING FRIENDS... SEEING EACH OTHERS PERSPECTIVES....

sorry I'm very passionate abt Sweetheart being so jaded and tired of the way hollywood treated her and warped her image to be nothing but a product for the audience's consumption. and very passionate abt Bette near-delusional hope of making it into the industry

Sonetto and Zima, both being poets

I could've added Charlie or The Fool since the idea is similar, but I feel like Zima would work best?

all three of these characters cherish the power of the written word and have used it against injust systems, but I think that Charlie's insecurities would hold her back a lot from truly bonding with Sonetto thru poetry, and The Fool is too much of a revolutionary--his very open and vocal "down with the monarchy, every person in authority is a fucking fool" vibe would clash with Sonetto's obedient dog aspects. Zima, however, feels perfect to act as another poet for Sonetto to befriend and a mentor to slowly introduce her to more open ideologies

SURE hes a recluse and socially inept bc of the years of isolation in exile, BUT HES NOT SHY WHEN IT COMES TO SHARING HIS VIEWS AND THOUGHTS OR WORK. hes the perfect idea of subdued and quiet strength, I rlly think Sonetto could really benefit from having him as a mentor or responsible adult figure

Pavia and Centurion

YES, I KNOW TENNANT IS VERY OBVIOUS FOR CENTURION BC SHE SCAMS PPL AND CENTURION IS VERY LUCKY SO SHE WINS AT EVERYTHING AND PUT MANY PLACES INTO BANKRUPCY

but I'm NEVER letting go of casino dealer Pavia from the artificial somnambulism stages. these two? theyre ABSOLUTE MENACES together, the luckiest girl in the world addicted to adrenaline and thrills? with the most deranged "who gives a shit" mafia guy who does whatever he wants?

they'd be playing an extreme version of buckshot roulette together, they'd ruin the economy together just bc its funny. they dont know each other's full names. they hang out and bitch about life together. they dont care abt their respective life stories. they're the first person they call when they're bored. they've been in many many life threatening situations. they dont know each others favorite colors

do you see my vision!!!

#not a prompt #reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #i was going to try and add tennant to the whole mix at the end but #i dont like mixing tennant and pavia together anymore bc of an artist's portrayal of them #its just a squick of mine but eh

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seandwalsh · 9 months

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Is it possible that Madame Clairvoya from Luigi’s Mansion is actually a Shaman from Super Mario RPG?

I’m sure many of you are familiar with the Shamans from Super Mario RPG, which went on to play a major role in Paper Mario, Paper Mario: the Thousand Year Door and Super Paper Mario. These odd folk are are depicted as magicians and fortune tellers. Many use Crystal Balls to predict the future and guide Mario on his adventures, usually by reading the Stars.

In Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door, we received some elaboration on who these Shamans are:

About Merlon on the east side of Rogueport and Merluvlee underground... Ol' Wonky hears they're from a strange tribe that names people by profession. So, for example, if someone did the same work as Merlon, they'd have the same name... So there could be Merlons all over. Don't you find that strange? Wonky does!

[Source: Wonky, Info guy, Non-player character in Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door, October 2004]

Meanwhile in Super Paper Mario, Shamans became the focus of the game, where they are revealed to be the descendants of the Tribe of Ancients, a people who had magic powerful enough to predict the distant future and transfer spirits of the dead into “Thinking Tools” called Pixls.

So yeah, ever heard of an advanced civilization called the Tribe of Ancients? They were, like, a thousand times smarter than you or me.

[Source: Garson, Owner of The Underwhere, Non-player character in Super Paper Mario, April 2007]

So yeah, you meet Merlon and Merlee yet? They're descendants of the Ancients and distantly related to each other, I hear.

[Source: Garson, Owner of The Underwhere, Non-player character in Super Paper Mario, April 2007]

So do you know how the Pixls came to be? A powerful magician among the Ancients created them about 3,000 years ago. He did it by transferring a spirit into a vessel he created for that purpose. He's said to have created 12 Pixls like this before he passed away. But his apprentices kept researching Pixls after his game ended... They learned to create many more Pixls based on his original 12. These Pixls became widely used as 'thinking tools' for the grateful Ancients. Through the work of many Pixls, the Ancients prospered as they never had before.

[Source: Carson, Owner of The Overthere, Non-player character in Super Paper Mario, April 2007]

In Luigi’s Mansion, Madame Clairvoya is a fortune teller who uses a Crystal Ball to read Mario’s items and guide Luigi. Her senses from reading the Crystal Ball are incredibly similar to those of the Shamans, with both seeing locations and people from the present or near future within their Crystal Balls and interpreting what they see into advice for the heroes. It’s also stated that Madame Clairvoya can see nearly 49 days into the future thanks to her close connection to the spirit world.

Madame Clairvoya actually wears similar clothing to many Shamans, particularly Shaman women, such as long robes, a headscarf and a veil covering her mouth. While the Shamans have largely been covered by shadows throughout their appearances thanks to their outfits, they are described as humans several times in Super Paper Mario, which aligns with Madame Clairvoya’s clearly human appearance.

Madame Merlar from Paper Mario and Merlumina from Super Paper Mario both return as ghosts long after their deaths and continue to serve as helpful guides, as is the case with Madame Clairvoya.

Madame Clairvoya also describes the Crystal Ball she uses as a "symbol of [her] clan”. This clan could very well be the Tribe of Ancients, whose descendants are shown to consistently use Crystal Balls to perform their work.

Finally - and this is what really got me to consider this possibility in the first place - the Japanese name of every member of the Tribe of Ancients and their descendants follows the same naming conventions, with all of their names being a play-on-words with the addition of the endings "ēru", "āru" or simply "ru", originating from the Japanese name of the Shaman species in Super Mario RPG, "Supēru". This also applies to Madame Clairvoya, whose Japanese name is “Madamu Miēru”.

What do you guys think? Could Madame Clairvoya actually be a descendant of the Ancients? If so, this is certainly a very interesting connection from Luigi’s Mansion back to Super Mario RPG and Paper Mario, though it wouldn’t be the first!

#mario lore #super mario #paper mario #super paper mario #luigi’s mansion

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writerpetals · 1 year

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stranger in the forest | 🔞

; optional male lead smut | ☁️

w; fantasy!au, kinda angsty

The sight of blood isn’t one you see too often, and if you’re being honest it does make you a bit queasy. Though you grin and bear it as you press a damp cloth to the stranger’s broken lip and you can just hear your mother telling you what an idiot you are for helping a human of all things.

The human man is passed out and has been for a while, you assume. You managed to drag him in after rolling his lifeless body on a thick enough blanket, settling him near the fireplace in your cozy cottage before deciding to clean his wounds. A bruised eye. A bloodied lip. A few scratches here and there and a deep red color stained into his thin linen shirt add to the unsettled feeling in your body, knowing your mother’s figurative words are probably right. You shouldn’t have helped a human so close to death, especially after figuring out it was no doubt orcs that have left him this way, but you’ve never been as cold-hearted as those dumb orcs.

You aren’t as cold-hearted as any of the creatures in your forest, even if elves have been known to be a bit twisted or deranged over the last few hundreds of years. You can’t fall in line with their beliefs, if you’re honest with yourself, knowing that any human that steps foot in your part of the forest has already decided his life isn’t worth living. The only question is where did this human come from and why did he manage to escape the orc’s clutches and bloodied battle axes with enough life to end up by the river near your cottage.

Regardless of your curiosities, you help the human as best you can, keeping him warm, cleaning his face, applying a few leaves soaked in healing potion you got from a shaman that lives to the west of the river against his eyes and lips while hoping for the best.

By sundown, the human begins to stir, groaning a bit and wincing. His hand rises, clearly trying to figure out what the damp substance is on his face, and it doesn’t take you long to rush to his side.

“Don’t move,” you warn him, reaching to gently peel the leaves from his face before tossing them into the crackling fire. “I managed to mend your face as best as I can, but I’m not so sure if the rest of your body has any injuries.”

The stranger blinks with curious, wide eyes, and he opens his mouth to speak until the pain of his busted lip gets to him first. He touches the open wound with trembling fingers, and his eyes settle on you once again. His gaze shifts from your own eyes staring down at him with concern, to the black robe that drapes over your shoulders, and all the way up to your pointed ears. He blinks again, not pulling his eyes away this time as his jaw slacks.

“It’s… not very nice to stare at someone’s ears, you know.” You straighten your back and clear your throat, and finally the stranger closes his eyes and touches the side of his head with his palm. “Especially one that saved your life.”

“S-saved me?” he coughs a little and attempts to sit up, to which you lean closer to aid him, hoping for no more injuries than than the ones you’ve tended to so far. “The orcs…” His words fail as he tries to remember what happened, squinting and hissing as he begins to clutch his ribs.

“Hey, take it easy,” you attempt to calm him, gently reaching to lift his shirt before spotting a dark purple swirl against his flesh. “Oh no…” You reach to press fingers against his body, earning another hiss as you do so as he pulls away from you.

“Fuck,” he cries out, grabbing his body with one strong arm wrapping around his torso, “that hurts. Those fucking orcs…”

“Take a deep breath in.”

“Hu-what?” He blinks at you, to which you can only shake your head.

“Take a deep breath,” you tell him again, this time your voice comes across more stern as he follows your instructions, “and release it. Does it hurt?”

He hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head. “No, well not anymore than before. Mostly when it’s touched, I guess.”

“Good, then I don’t think you have any broken ribs. Just badly bruised.” With a sigh, you raise his shirt higher, running gentle fingertips across the opposite side, down his stomach, and then his back. To your surprise, he allows you to inspect him without any fuss, though he does take a few more deep breaths here and there to tell you he’s still a bit sore.

“Are you like a medic or something?”

“No,” you reply casually, “but I have known a few healers in my day. I’ve learned a few tricks, but that doesn’t matter. You’re human…” You glare at the stranger as he slowly nods.

“Yes?” He pauses for a moment, then grins through his pain. “And you’re an…”

“An elf, yes, but that doesn’t matter. What were you doing out here? You have to be aware it’s dangerous for humans, right?”

“You don’t seem so dangerous.”

You’re taken back by his comment, but you quickly realize he’s trying to distract from your question. “I’m not, but it doesn’t change the fact that there are creatures out here that despise humans. From the state you’re in I’m sure you’re aware. You’re lucky you aren’t dead, uh…”

He finishes the sentences for you by giving his name, smiling as he introduces himself and though his lip is still a bit swollen and broken, and his eyes is bruised but he can at least see out of it, you find the heat swelling in your cheeks from the charming way he says his name and grins at you. “And yes, I’m human and I know how dangerous the forests are, but I needed to track down something to… to save someone’s life.”

Your ears perk at that, eyes widening once you hear his low voice become honest with you and you tell him your name in return before asking, “What do you need?”

He hesitates in answering, but then sighs and leans back against the blanket you dragged his body in on a day before. “I hear about your kind’s healing wells. The water from them can cure any sickness. I was on my way to collect a vial and ran into those orcs in the process.”

“I see,” is all you can manage, but the desperation in his tone, as well as the hint of sadness in every syllable, has your heart sinking. “It’s true… about the wells, but no human could get close enough to collect even a drop. It’s incredibly dangerous.”

Though you don’t mention it to him, you’re impressed he even managed to get this far. Your small cottage isn’t in the heart of the elves’ domain, but it is on the outskirts. Of course, he would have had to have traveled through packs of wolves, dangerous rivers, and even the orcs to make it this far, which only has your curiosities growing stronger for the strange human.

“I could get it for you,” you simply say, making his eyes pop as he pushes himself up to lean closer, all before hissing and clutching his bruised ribs once again.

“Really? You would do that?”

You shrug, and can’t help but to grin. “Sure, but then you have to leave. If someone finds out I’m helping a human, it won’t be a pretty end for either of us.”

It’s as if the realization dawns on him at once. The risk he’s taken to travel this far can’t be ignored, but now he understands even his presence could cause harm to those wishing to help him. He meets your eyes and offers a gentle smile behind a broken lip, and the warmth settles in your cheeks once again.

“Thank you,” he whispers, reaching to place a hand over your own resting against your knee, “thank you for saving my life, and for doing this for me. I’m not sure why you’re doing it, though, but I will forever be in your debt because of it.”

***

Receiving the vial is easier for you because you’re an elf, of course, and because you came up with an elaborate lie to tell the guards protecting the wells. One simple cut of your hand with a blade proved to be enough evidence to inform them you manage to get into it with a lone rogue, desperately explaining how you don’t have much time before the poison sets in and you’re a goner. Quickly enough, you scooped up enough healing water in a small vial you carried around your neck, and you were off to your cottage even before the sunlight could fill in the small cracks.

The human awakens a little while after you arrive back home, just in time to smell the soup you have been stirring in a cast iron pot, scooping enough in two wooden bowls for the both of you. You make a place for him at the table just to the right of the fireplace near the front door, and he wobbles over as best he can considering his injuries.

“I did heal you,” you tell him, sipping some soup from your spoon and realizing it’s a bit too hot. “Though, the effects aren’t immediate. You will still have some soreness for a bit, but at least there are no scars.”

“Thank you.” He offers a polite smile and takes a large spoonful into his mouth to show how hungry he had been. He doesn’t bother worrying over the temperature before taking another large gulp, groaning as it fills his belly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You chuckle while he nods and continues eating. “You might have to stay a few more days, however.”

He freezes, mouth open, spoon just before his lips. “A few days?”

“Believe me, I know you’re in a hurry to get back, but with your injuries there’s no way you can make it out alive if you’re not at full health to be on the run.” He blinks at his soup, obviously pondering over the thought, and then simply nods as he takes another mouthful. “I’m sorry. I-”

“It’s fine, no need to apologize.” He drops the spoon and gives you a reassuring smile. The wound on his lips is nearly gone. All that’s left is a sliver of a scab, and his eye has faded in color as well. The other cuts over his flesh have mostly disappeared as well, and all that remains to bother him are his bruised ribs. “You’ve done so much for me. You saved my life, healed me, and received the vial as if it was nothing. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for all of those things, so please don’t worry about me, okay?”

You can’t help but to smile at his reassuring tone, the softness in his eyes, or the way he expresses himself so carefully. Sometimes you wonder how it became so natural to hate his kind when you can’t find a single thing wrong with him. Now more than ever you decide to stand by your morals and not give in to the hatred the rest of your kind, or the other creatures in the forest, feel and instead do only what you feel is right.

“Give it a few days,” you tell him. “After that, I’ll make sure you make it home safely, okay?”

The next few days are spent on helping him heal, as well as feeding him, and making sure you don’t bring attention to your small cottage in case any elven guards were keeping watch close by. You soak the bruises on his ribs with more healing potions and leaves, and allow him enough time to rest while you busy yourself with picking fruits and vegetables in a garden behind your home, and cook for him so he can regain his strength. You surprise him by making different soups or porridges to the best of your ability, though after all the years spent alone and only having to worry about yourself, you find it exciting to be taking care of someone else. You get to know him a bit better, as well, listening to his stories of his family, his job in his own kingdom as a carpenter, and even of the parades the humans would have to celebrate different occasions. You have to admit you have a certain fascination for not only him, but his kind as well, and the more he tells you, the more you want to hear every single detail.

He listens to you, as well. He hangs on to every word as you tell him of your time living among the other elves, before venturing off on your own and deciding you enjoyed the peace and quiet more. Other than the occasional wolf that disrupts your garden or troll passing by, you don’t get to see too much, but you prefer it that way. When you inform him he is the most exciting thing to happen to you in a while, the laughter that spills from his lips fills your whole chest with warmth, finding comfort in the human’s presence when you never expected to.

“We should bathe you in the springs today,” you inform him a day before he’s set to leave, just after lunch when you’ve decided that his wounds are healed enough that he should not only be able to walk around, but clean them properly.

He agrees, and together the two of you make the barefoot trip down to the closest river with vials of different scented soaps in your arms, and a change of clothes for you. Once you arrive, you’re more hesitant than usual to undress yourself, mostly because it’s been years since you’ve bathed with anyone else. So much time spent on your own in the middle of the forest has made you a bit more shy, you realize, and you’re even more hesitant when you see him effortlessly stripping himself of his clothes.

You tell yourself to look away, but you can’t help but to peek from the corner of your eyes as he peels his shirt over his head, noticing the bruising on his ribs is barely visible thanks to the potions. As he tugs on the string to his pants, you finally force yourself to stare down at your bare feet sinking into the water, sending a chill through your body from the sudden drop in temperature.

“Are you not joining me?” he asks, noticing a hint of a cockiness you were once warned about was common with humans. He chuckles and steps into the river, and you dare to peek at him once again to see his naked body settling in the water. The sun shines down on his skin through the gaps in the trees surrounding the two of you and your heart races when you realize just how hard it is to pull your gaze away. “It feels nice!” he adds with a wide smile, and you bite your lip and build up the confidence to finally undress.

You untie your robe from around your neck to fall to the grassy ground beneath your feet, all before tugging the few buttons of your dress before the fabric settles around your ankles. The moment he takes in the sight of you, his jaw slacks and your face fills with heat beneath his gaze. With a gulp, you walk completely naked into the river to join him, goosebumps flooding your skin as the cool water contrasts with the way your body begins to burn.

“So this is how your kind lives?” he asks, grinning and playfully splashing water in your direction to have you giggling. “So free and open like this?”

“Some of us, yes,” you admit, splashing him with water in return just to hear him laugh. “Though, I’m mostly alone when I bathe. I’ve been alone for quite some time now, as I told you before.” Your heart pounds against your chest as he steps closer, now standing over you and peering down at your naked, wet body beneath him.

“Can I return the favor?” he whispers after a few moments, causing your lips to part as you inhale a sharp breath. “You’ve done so much for me. You saved my life. I want to return the favor and take care of you now.” You aren’t sure where his confidence came from, but as he speaks he raises a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and staring into your eyes. The only thing you can do is nod your head while trying to remember how to breathe.

Once he has your permission, he grins before leaving you in the middle of the calm, cold river to grab a vial from where you left it near your pile of clothes. When he returns, he has the cork popped before he holds the opening to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent of honey.

“Can I bathe you?” he asks for permission and you swear your heart will stop at any moment. But you nod, finding yourself at ease in his presence and understanding his intentions in wanting to take care of you. Though you never expected to be in the nude with a human in your favorite bathing spot as he lathers up soap in his hand and stands behind you, you find yourself wanting it, wanting him. Wanting his touch, his hands on you, his body close. You trust him, and you allow him to run his palms along your shoulders, instantly relaxing beneath the soft motions as he cleans you. Though, it’s not really to clean you, but only to touch your body. You’re well aware of that fact, and you can’t mind in the mind because his hands on your flesh make you feel so warm.

“That feels good,” you sigh, finding all the tension leaving your body while his hands wander. He says nothing, focused on his task of taking care of you, caressing from your shoulders, down your arms, to the small of your back, and he pauses as he reaches the swell of your ass just above the water line where skin meets the river. You almost want to grin at his politeness if you weren’t already so hot from even his simple touches, but you know you need him to continue either way. “It’s okay,” you tell him.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to do any-”

“I want you to,” you confess, closing your eyes and trying to not think about the way your voice trembles while speaking the words. “I trust you, and I want… I want you to touch me.”

The voice doesn’t even sound like your own speaking words that are so unlike you. You never had such desires before, but you also have never met someone like him. Someone so kind and polite, someone that appreciates you for you and your own kindness, instead of just looking at you as a forest creature like the other humans would. You have found a way to connect, and feel comfortable with him, and though what you’re asking is so foreign to you, you know you can’t stop now.

He believes your words as he slips his hands from your waist down to your ass, keeping with his soft motions as he cleans you, He touches your body with gentle touches, hands now wandering to your front begin massaging the soap over your stomach. His palms rise over your ribs, palming your breasts to receive the softest moan from your lips. You can’t help but to close your eyes and give in to the pleasure, head falling back against his bare shoulder, chest pushing into his hands to ask for more.

He senses your desire, deciding to grasp your hardened nipple between his forefinger and thumb, tugging gently until he hears you gasp in pleasure. His other hand continues to massage your breast, soapy suds dripping down your body as a deep ache settles between your legs.

You mutter his name with a trembling tone, collecting enough of your senses to pull away from him. You meet his eyes once you turn your body to face him, and you can’t help but to notice his fully hardened length just beneath the water’s surface. “I-I was supposed to be bathing you and your wounds.”

He grins at that, and your heart flutters from how much you enjoy the sight. “Like I said, I wanted to return the favor.” Then he sighs with his eyes focused on you. “I want to take care of you. I want… well, not to seem like some pervert but… I would love to do more than that. Than just bathing you, I mean.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he tells you, and it takes a few seconds before you can breathe properly. “I… I’ve never been with-”

“A human?” he questions, hoping to ease your mind by how casually he asks. As if it’s no big deal to him.

“With… anyone,” you admit, voice so low you wonder if he heard it. “I’ve, well, I’ve never been with anyone. I’ve never had the desire to… until now.”

Your last two words reassure him, his eyes filing with hope to make your cheeks burn because he wants you as much as you want him. Though the thoughts have never crossed your mind of actually giving yourself to anyone, you do know at least a little about the bond that can be shared with two beings. After all, a few naughty fantasy scripts were passed around the elf domain when you were younger, detailing all the different creatures female elves had as companions in the quest for romance, most of them including humans.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… uh, didn’t know…” His mumbling interrupts your thoughts of old fantasy stories and brings you back to reality, heart pounding because now you’re thinking of him and you, giving yourself to him, bonding with him in a way you never desired before he came along.

“It’s okay.” You offer a shy grin beneath the sunlight, finding the courage from the way your body begins to ache for him. “It’s okay because… I want that, too. I want you.”

He smiles wide enough to show his dimples, making your heart flutter once again. Together, the two of you finish bathing, cleaning one another with trembling fingers and anticipation building within. You rinse with the pure waters of the river before he guides you back to the bank where your clothes are resting, gently settling your body over your robe and dress to lay before him. He glances down at your bare body beneath him, admiring the sight before he leans closer, pressing the softest kiss to your lips that no romance story could ever do justice. You whimper against his skin, body full of warmth thanks to him and the way he takes care of you, and he settles between your thighs once his lips begin to roam.

“If something catches you out here…” you attempt to whisper to him, but his lips on your neck cut off your train of thought.

“Don’t think about that,” he tells you, voice deep and needy in your ear, “just focus on how I make you feel, okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes closing tight as his mouth trails down to your chest, between your breasts.

“If you feel uncomfortable,” he says between kisses, “tell me.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter as he presses his lips to your erect nipple, not being able to help the way your back arches from the clothes laid out beneath you.

“And if something feels good,” he adds, pausing to run his tongue around your nipple to earn a whimper, “tell me.”

“Th-That feels good,” you can’t resist whispering to him, every touch of his like fire burning hotter within you. He repeats the action to your other breast, kissing your flesh softly, tasting you with a swipe of his tongue.

Your body settles against the ground as he moves on, pampering kisses here and there, taking his time as if he’s not the only human in a forest of creatures that hate him. He grips your hips as he lingers near your mound, and the ache deepens as the desire rises. Heat swells from below, setting your body on fire with anticipation for his touch, the pleasure he offers, the promise to take care of you and make you feel good in a way you never wanted before he came along.

“I’m going to taste you now,” he says just as he settles each of your thighs against his broad shoulders, and before you can speak a word, his tongue dives straight between your folds. Your back arches as a gasp falls from your lips, feeling the wet muscle licking up your slit to have his saliva mixing with the juices already dripping from your entrance. He groans as he pleasures between your thighs, and the only thing you can do his whimper his name and clutch your hands in tight fists at your sides.

You cry out, mind spinning from the circles he licks around your swollen bud, “I-I…”

“Is it okay? Do you want me to stop?” he asks, pulling away from between your thighs to stare up at you, your eyes shut tight, your hands in fists.

“No, I… I like it,” you sigh, body relaxing as you come to terms with pleasure you have never experienced before, “It feels so good, please…”

He smirks once he gets the hint, and a quick glance down at your fists by your sides gives him an idea to help you relax a bit more. “You can hold onto me, you know,” he informs you, “my hands, my hair… whatever helps.”

With that, he buries his tongue between your thighs again while holding tighter onto your hips, sending your body trembling as the bliss fills every inch. You take his advice and reach for him, slipping your fingers between the strands of his hair while you call out his name once again. Your voice is so shaken, so weak and desperate and so unlike you, but the pleasure he offers has you caring less and less. He tastes and teases you, licking between your thighs and groaning as you become more aroused, more wet, just for him. His skilled tongue bringing you to heights you have never been doesn’t take long for you to feel the tension of your first orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, heat swelling between your thighs until pure bliss spirals from between your legs to reach from your head to your toes.

Your back arches and you cry out once more, tightening your fingers around the strands of his hair and riding the pleasure filling your body. Your mind goes blank, focusing on his tongue continuing to tend to your body even through the waves of pure ecstasy, and when you begin to come down is when he finally pulls away.

He leaves you breathless with heavy lids and a racing heart, lying there so vulnerable and exposed to not only him but any prying eyes or eavesdropping creatures, yet you find yourself not caring a bit. You feel as if you’re in heaven and he’s to blame, not being able to stop a smile from spreading over your lips or the laughter that falls from them.

“That was… incredible,” you tell him in the quietest of whispers as he climbs up your body, pressing his lips to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on your own tongue. The thought has the desire returning, wanting to be closer to this human man than you ever thought possible. You want him even more, even after he’s brought you pleasure and the desire you feel for him takes hold of your body and your mind. “I… I want more of you. I want all of you.”

You realize it may be your last chance. If he’s leaving the following day, the risks he would take to see you again would be far too great to ever return. You’re more than aware and though the thought crosses your mind of how hard it is to come to terms with this being your last day with him, you can’t let the opportunity slip by. You want to make it a memory you will cherish forever, and you want to be closer to him.

“Are you sure?” he questions, and you reassure him by slinking your hand around his neck to pull his lips down to your own. You kiss him as if to tell him it’s okay, to tell him your honest thoughts as if he can feel what you feel. And he agrees with you, making it known he wishes to cherish the moment just the same as he kisses you in return. “I have never met anyone else like you,” he tells you as he positions himself between your thighs once again. His hand slips between the two of you, fingers brushing over your most sensitive parts to make your body tense for only a moment before you relax beneath his touch.

“I could say the same,” you reply, eyes fluttering as he begins to push his fingers inside of you, and they screw shut as he buries them slowly into your body. “Gods…” you exhale, licking your lips, concentrating on him entering you, listening to the messy, wet noises left over from the previous pleasure he offered.

“Relax, okay?” he whispers, slowly moving his fingers in and out of you, watching the expression your face makes, the way your eyelids flutter, your lips part, your brow creases when he pushes back into you. “I want to take care of you.”

You give in, releasing all the tension in your body as the pleasure takes hold once again. Your hips begin to move and your heart races faster, never having imagined yourself in such a position before. Never even thinking you could end up taking care of an injured human and in return, connecting with him so much so that your body aches for him without even realizing.

When he senses you're relaxed enough, he draws his fingers from you before aligning his length with your entrance in return. You take a deep breath, eyes closed, thighs trembling as they rest against his waist, and you allow him to enter you with a slow, gentle push of his hips. In an instant you’re gasping, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin as you adjust to the feeling of being so full because of him. The trees around you blend together and everything drowns out, only focusing on being so close, so connected with him.

You whimper after a few moments when he hasn’t moved, knowing he wanted to make sure you were alright, but growing impatient once you both realize how much you enjoy it. He gets the hint, beginning to move his hips in time with yours, creating a slow, cautious rhythm of long, deep thrusts to have you gasping in return.

“Tell me how it feels,” he whispers as he leans closer. With his body pressed against your own as you move together, you’re unsure if you can even form proper sentences, becoming so lost in the pleasure and the feeling of him inside of you. All you can do is nod and crane your neck to kiss him, pulling him closer, wrapping arms and legs around his body as he picks up pace.

He thrusts a bit quicker, a bit more desperately. He loses himself in the pleasure as well, feeling you squeeze yourself around him as deep groans build in his chest. You whimper his name, gasping here and there, head falling back when he thrusts even deeper and crying out his name when the warmth building in the pit of your stomach returns. Every pump of his hips sends you higher, so lost in one another all you can do is hold onto him and allow him to take care of you like he promised, and he groans against your ear and kisses your neck to let you know he’s loving it just as much.

The bliss takes hold of you both, one after another and you experience pure ecstasy for the second time thanks to him. You’re breathless with your minds spinning and your bodies completely spent, and after the high crashes down, he holds you close to his body as the sun begins to set behind the trees. You lay there for a while, listening to one another breathe, the crickets chirping in the distance, the soft flow of the water barely heard from the bank as it passes over the rocks. You cherish the moment with him for a while longer, burning the feel of his body next to yours in your memory, as well as the warmth of his large hands on your body, the sight of his eyes peering back at you and his grin.

Morning comes before either of you are ready, but you don’t fight the fact that he has to leave you. After all, he has a mission to complete, and you hand over the vial of healing water with a heavy heart. Though neither of you want to be the first to say goodbye, and he lingers near the edge of your garden after you’ve walked him out of your cottage.

“Maybe I could-”

“No,” you interrupt, already knowing what he wishes to say. “It’s too dangerous for you to return here.”

“But I-”

“You can’t,” you simply whisper, stepping to cup his cheek and look into his eyes. “If something happens to you, then I’ll never forgive myself. So just… stay away, okay? Don’t come back, please.”

He looks away while he bites the inside of his cheek, but he holds his tongue. From his expression, you’re sure he wants to argue, but maybe he knows there’s no argument to be made. It is too dangerous, and it’s risking too much just to see one another.

“Maybe you could visit me?” he asks, hopeful and it makes you grin.

“Your humans would take one look at my ears and take me as a prisoner if I stepped foot in your kingdom… or worse.”

“I would protect you,” he adds, but his voice is low because he already knows it’s just not possible. “Thank you again… for everything.”

You almost miss the words due to his quiet whisper, but they manage to take hold of your heart and squeeze until you feel as if you won’t be able to breathe. You aren’t sure how such a short time with him has made you so fond of this human, but you decide not to question it. You would have done the same for any creature, whether it be human, or elf, or those dumb orcs, but you admit you were glad it was him that ended up near your home, needing care and shelter. You’re glad it was him you become close with, and you’re even glad it’s him you’re saying goodbye to with a gentle kiss on his lips, happy to have known someone so kind and gentle you could share a part of yourself with and cherish forever, even if it was only for a short time.

#bts smut #marvel smut #call of duty smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jungkook smut #loki smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #ghost smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #x reader #x reader smut

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persphonesorchid · 1 year

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Hatin' On You - MYG || Teaser ||

Summary: You absolutely loathe min yoongi, and honestly, you have no idea why - his vibe rubs you in all the wrong ways. When you and him suddenly find yourselves in a room with a shaman, things get ridiculously complicated.

Genre: Past Lovers au | Fluff, angst, enemies to lovers.

Teaser Warnings: none

Teaser word count: 647 :)

Full fic has been posted :)) - Here

Masterlist

Notes: This fic is based off a dream I had a while back. Which I can't say much about because spoilers lmao, though I will say that the dream was wild as hell. The summary alone is just a little bit of what happened in that dream of mine 🤣 But!! I hope you guys look forward to it! I'm so excited to share it with you all, and hopefully, it'll be done and ready by this weekend!

Also, just wanna say this fic wouldn't be here if Nikki didn't say "Can you write it 🥺"

And, as all my teasers go, three scenes in no particular order! Have fun! I hope you're all having a great day! ❤️

You could feel Yoongi’s stare, burning into the side of your head and you refuse to give him the satisfaction of glancing his way. You promised Seokjin you’d behave, that the few words you’d share with Yoongi – if any – would be civil.

You’ve known Yoongi for years, running in between the same circle of friends. The first time you’d met him, Seokjin had warned you not to take his lack of words and uninterested expression to heart. You hadn’t, some people are like that – you’re aware.

Yoongi constantly had his guard up, never letting anyone get closer than he would allow. It’s not easy to sit in a room with him, even amongst your friends. It’s awkward, painfully so. You’re not sure why he rubs you the wrong way, maybe it’s something about his vibe. The way he carries himself like he’s king shit, able to command a room with a flick of his wrist.

You and Yoongi always bicker, even without saying anything at all. There’s a tension that’s strung between you both, like a tight coil that only curls tighter the closer you are to each other. Like now, sitting a few inches away from him, even though he’s said nothing else to you, eyes stuck petulantly out the window.

“D’you need help finding Jimin and Hoseok?” His eyes flicker down to where the squirrel plush swings from the belt loop in your jeans.

The words are taunting and there’s a gleam in his eyes that leaves you unsure if he’s joking or not. You huff, crossing your arms, “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me, the way you act all the time.” He says, walking off, but you’re not letting him have the last word.

“As if you’re any better.” You trail behind him, glaring daggers into his broad back and hoping that he trips on air. You suck your teeth, pure pettiness leading you to follow behind him and not go your own way.

You’re not sure why it’s always this way. There’s a need to be as far away from him as you possibly can be, if to just spare yourself the headache, but also, a need that swirls beneath it to be near. You’re not sure what to make of that and you try not to think of it. Try to bury it down, put a lid on it and leave it to rot in a corner somewhere.

You don’t like him, and that’s just it, there’s nothing more to that, nothing you have to sit and bust your brain over.

“You two have a past.” The woman calls, and for some reason, you and Yoongi both stop. “I can show it to you.”

She’s probably part of the attractions - here to make money just like everyone else. It’s not uncommon to find folk like her in places like this, where susceptible people are lured into paying a pretty penny for baseless words. It calls to you though, for some reason, you’re not sure, but you turn to look at her first.

She smiles at you, and you turn back.

“Ignore her.” Yoongi says, trying to urge you forward, even though he himself has yet to move. “C’mon.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the woman is persistent, it seems, as she speaks again. “I’d be doing you both a favor.”

Yoongi sighs, the warmth of his hand leaving your back as he turns. You turn too, and you’re locked in a silent stare-off with the woman.

“I don’t think she’ll leave us alone.” He mumbles quietly to you, and against your better judgment, you follow him as he walks back. “People do this all the time, so don’t pay mind to whatever she has to say.”

Tags: @xpeachesncream @luaspersona @matchy6812 @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @taestefully-in-luv @bangtansmauyeondan @eoieopda @euphoricfilter @mssukeyna

#persphonesorchid #Hatin' on you #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #min yoongi fics #yoongi x reader #bts suga #suga x reader #bts fic recs #bts fanfic #suga fluff #suga angst

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uesp · 9 months

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"The shaman pointed at me and slowly rotated his hand near his head, which I assume is a Goblin gesture denoting acknowledgement of superior intellect. Who would have suspected these so-called primitives had such regard for scholarship?

"After that there were no more incidents of hostility, and the Goblins tolerated my presence, so long as I kept a respectful distance from their females and offspring. Occasionally a warrior would bark at me, but I simply replied by making the hand-rotating "intelligence" gesture next to my head, and the warrior would shrug and go back to his business."

Excerpt from Sacred Rites of the Stonechewers

#the elder scrolls #uesp #lore #elder scrolls online

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rallamajoop · 4 months

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What are your thoughts on some of the unused concepts within Village? I thought the idea of a sort of shamanistic figure alongside the “five” houses with Karl’s father as the mayor would have been interesting but given the small scale of Village, so perhaps something to that extent if they village was larger — not to mention Moreau’s unused section. At any rate, yeah — I honestly really enjoy reading your analysis of the lore so I’m curious as to what you think of the game’s unused concepts.

Well, this one's tricky to answer, because it seems like whatever you're really asking got lost in a long run-on second sentence there. But I'll do my best.

I think we should start by pointing out there's no reason to think there was ever "a sort of shamanistic figure alongside the “five” houses with Karl’s father as the mayor." Project development is like any other kind of history: it doesn't all happen at once.

The Shaman appears only in the trial storyboard, and that features only four lords. The only hint that there was ever a 5th lord is a half-sentence attached to one piece of concept art of the Duke that says he "was going to be the fifth lord in early drafts." Does that mean there was a fifth lord present at some version of the trial, that he was even going have his own village area? Or was the Duke always meant to play the role we know, but with a reveal he was actually a long-deposed lord to Ethan near the end of the game? Heck, was there a version where the Duke leads the trial in place of the Shaman? I have NO IDEA, and nor do you.

There are concepts which mention Heisenberg's father as the village's mayor, yes, but there are also concepts which describe Urias as the village's former 'leader' (does that mean mayor?)

There are still other concepts for 'the leader of the village's religion', who isn't Miranda and doesn't look much like the Shaman from the storyboard either.

There was another point where Sturm was apparently going to be Heisenberg's father.

Lots of different ideas along those lines were obviously thrown around at different stages of development, and lots of characters clearly had conceptual backstories that there was no need or no space for in the finished game. Some we know were cut because there wasn't the time or resources to realise them (such as the idea of building an entire fishing village for Moreau's area, or for putting 100 witches in Dimitrescu's castle). But others would have been reworked because unrelated changes make them superfluous.

Take the four lords, and their families. Heisenberg at some point apparently also had a father, a mother, and at least one twin brother. Heisenberg refers to his household in plural in the storyboard, and even Moreau alludes to a family of his own. There are concepts of a large Beneviento family with multiple children too.

That's all the more interesting because family (particularly families that are twisted and dysfunctional) is one of the strongest running themes in RE7 and 8 (and I'll be very interested to see if it continues on in RE9!) Back when it was a Shaman leading the trial, there's little suggestion that the four lords represented any unified family ‒ but perhaps the family theme would still have been present with their individual families, in their individual domains?

Once Miranda and her quest to resurrect her daughter have been reworked into the centre of the cult, however, her fixation on motherhood comes to the fore, and the cult itself is now a one big, dysfunctional family: at that point, giving all the lords their own families was probably redundant (and not having to create that many extra characters and potential boss fights was probably a bonus too). I'm curious as to what the Heisenberg family dynamic might have been like, but I'm also fascinated that he's still so recognisably himself in that early storyboard, even though Mother Miranda doesn't exist yet.

Personally, unused concepts are of most interest to me not as cases for 'imagine if this was in the game' but for what they can illuminate about elements that were mostly-but-not-completely-cut from the finished product ‒ see, for example, the case of Moreau's movie poster. The idea of the Duke as a 5th lord is intriguing mostly because it suggests there was a time where we were going to get some real explanation as to the Duke's implied powers and relationship to the village ‒ perhaps even some story as to how he became estranged from his position. In the finished game, he's left very deliberately mysterious.

I'm very curious about the phase where there was apparently a plan for a huge, three-way battle between Chris' team, the lycans and the BSAA in the village ‒ not because I think the game would be better for having it, but because what's left of the BSAA element in the finished game feels like an awkward footnote that just doesn't fit.

I'm fascinated by those unused red eye textures for Rose that survived all the way to the released game ‒ and only more so after someone pointed out to me you can even see a shot of Rose with red eyes in a storyboard for the start of the final battle with Miranda, which appears just briefly in the background of a making-of video. The same commenter also suggested that Rose was draining Miranda's powers in that shot, which seems like a bit of a stretch to me, but would explain why Miranda's power suddenly leaves her for unexplained reasons in the finished game. Unused concepts have so much potential to answer questions the finished product left dangling!

The knowledge that Miranda was originally just supposed to be a foreign research sure casts those photos of her from the lab in a very different light, and even makes me wonder if they were created much earlier in development than I would have assumed. And heck, there are so many fragments of an extended and surprisingly coherent pre-game timeline still lying around the early chapters of the game that I'm very curious as to whether there were originally far more scenes planned before the main action began.

Cut content featuring Elena has me incredibly curious too ‒ mostly because bits of it made it all the way to the early trailers, and there's a quote from the actress herself talking about how the character originally died in different circumstances. Those aren't just early concepts, they're aspects that came really close to making it into the finished game.

If you really want tantalising unused concepts though, one of the most intriguing is this one screenshot where they talk about early plans to have the story jump back and forth in time, with a major chapter set in medieval times. That would be like nothing RE's ever done before, but it certainly hints at the intent to create an even longer and more detailed history for the village. Would we have had a whole separate protagonist in the history segments, ala Clancy from RE7 from the videos, maybe?

Speaking personally, the one thing I felt was really lacking in the lore was the whole cadou concept. Nothing in RE8 feels more like a weak attempt to copy RE4 than the fact the mould is also parasite now, for some reason. Nominally, the cadou is part of how Miranda converts and controls her creations, but Eveline does all that with mould alone, and even in RE8, we see someone transform into a lycan after merely being bitten. Documents talk about cadou-implantation, but the ending sequence shows villagers becoming lycans after a mere injection (and we know this doesn't predate Miranda's creation of the cadou, because there's one floating in a jar).

So what is the process? What does the cadou add to the mythos that simply injecting people with mould wouldn't? RE4's lore is an incoherent mess that falls apart under the least scrutiny, but it at least commits to the parasites as central to its cult and monsters. C'mon, RE8, if you must stuff the parasites in somewhere, work them into your theming! Don't give me some weaksauce bull about them being 'based on nemotodes' in the Japanese text, at least tell me Miranda births them like Marguerite does her bugs, and really lean into all that twisted-mother imagery! They already look like mutant fetuses, the next step is right there!

So it's very interesting to me that there's art of an earlier concept for the creation of the lycans, where victims were encased in mould to form a very cadou-looking cocoon, from which a lycan would eventually emerge. That strikes me as a potentially way more interesting concept than the vague nematode-parasite stuff we got. Alternately, the idea from another piece of concept art of villagers becoming lycans after they 'drank from a chalice' puts a whole different spin on the giant's chalice as a plot point.

Fascinating as some of these concepts are though, I do feel that most of what didn't make it into the finished game was cut for good reason. Pacing and streamlining matter, and plenty of mysteries don't need to be explained. RE8 would not have been a better experience padded with every unused idea to the length of the new RE4 (and I'm not fully convinced even the new RE4 needed to be that long). I would happily pay real money for a proper RE8 artbook with yet more juicy details on how the game came together, but most of what wound up on the metaphorical cutting room floor probably wound up there for good reason.

#Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #RE lore

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tender-rosiey · 2 years

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𝐉𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 | gojo x f!reader

| pt 8 | - | pt 9 | — [SERIES MASTERLIST]

your students gulped at the tension in the room. they also had a slight feeling that they might have jinxed everything because now you are not even glancing at their teacher and he isn’t as talkative today.

something must’ve happened, something really bad but they know better than to get involved. this was a matter between the both of you.

“gojo-sensei, are you okay?” itadori asks, noticing the bandages wrapped around his teacher’s palm.

gojo laughs, “yup! just let my guard down around a cat for a moment.”

megumi quirks an eyebrow in confusion: getting caught off guard by a cat is not something he would do. the boy looks at you, who’s sitting on the very far end of the desk, creating as much as space you could from the man.

“y/n! what did we decide the students would do today?” gojo asks, deep down hoping that you would at least indulge him in front of them as for them not to worry.

to their surprise, you stand up from your chair and head to the door.

“y/n-sensei?—“

“new mission.”

with that, you close the door

and the students are left with the company of their teacher who sighs softly. gojo notices their gazes on him and speaks up, “what?”

“go and apologize,” megumi says and gojo quirks an eyebrow, “you did something that upset her, right? well, apologize.”

gojo halts for a bit before speaking up, “it isn’t exactly something that only an apology can make up for,” he stands up from his chair, “plus it’s not like she is giving me a chance to talk.”

nobara rolls her eyes, “obviously, so you probably did something awful; y/n-sensei is very kind and forgiving so for her to do this means you messed up bad.”

gojo grumbles under his breath, why is he getting scolded by his own students?

“I think you should apologize,” yuuji says, “and go all out with, at least then you can say you tried,” he ends with a sympathetic smile.

megumi nods, “and give her time.”

nobara muses, “wow, you guys can actually give good advice,” which makes them start yet another quarrel but it all fades in the background for gojo as he hides his face in the hem of his shirt, thinking. how the hell is he supposed to make up for something like this? he doesn’t know for certain, but he would be damned if he doesn’t try.

“well! go spar or bother the second years; I have some stuff I need to do,” he announces before walking to the door.

“good luck!” yuuji beams while megumi nods at the white-haired shaman and nobara raises a thumbs up. the sight makes his heart soften so he blows them an exaggerated kiss to which they all simply gag at, sending a piercing arrow to their teacher’s already hurt heart.

meanwhile, you were sitting in a cafe near the jujutsu tech. the cafe was calm, painted with soft hues of blue and white. it irritatingly reminded you of a certain man you don’t want to see his face right now. you sigh, setting the cup down.

lost in thought, you fail to hear the jingle of the front door until a bouquet of flowers is placed in front of you. you look up to the owner, and you are met with ijichi’s troubled face. “what is this for?” you inquire and ijichi sighs rubbing the sweat on his foreheard with his handkerchief.

“gojo-san was sent on a surprise mission, so he didn’t have the chance to give these to you and therefore sent me to do so,” he explains, a little worried because of the annoyed expression you are sporting, “did I disturb you, y/n-san?”

you snap out of your thoughts, looking at the man with a smile before assuring him, “no no! It’s not you; I just didn’t think gojo would have the guts to send me anything,” that makes him confused, gojo was one of the bravest and most brazen people he had met, but ijichi can tell it’s probably a topic you don’t want anyone to divulge or discuss right now.

“well, I will be on my way, enjoy your drink,” he says with a smile before exiting the cafe. you look at the bouquet, poking it to see any sign of a prank but to no avail.

it’s a bouquet of carnations, orchids, daffodils, hyacinths, and tulips. who told that asshole about your interest in flower language? you huff, pushing it to the side of a table which causes a note to fall out of it. the handwriting is elegant yet messy and you figure that it’s gojo’s.

these flowers are really pretty, and honestly you deserve more than that but until then I hope the drink and pastry were tasty; I payed for them in advance. - gojo satoru

you look at the waiter frantically and she instantly comes to your table, “is something wrong, ma’am?”

“did someone with the name gojo satoru come here?” your question makes her smile before she replies.

“yes ma’am, he payed for the order, somehow knowing what exactly you will get,” she chuckles, “it was endearing to watch him convince the manager to do so, was he your boyfriend?”

you are flabbergasted and speechless, maybe even offended. the waiter dismisses it for being flustered and smiles once again before attending to another table. you may be livid at the man but as if hell you are going to end up owing money to a stuck-up ass like him.

gojo’s playing with his keys in the teacher’s room before the door slams open revealing you, which makes him let out a small smile, “hey, you’re here—”

you slam the money on his desk and he looks at it, a little look of bewilderment on his face, “I don’t need you to pay for me. I think I was clear when I said to not get near me ever again, right?”

he takes the money in his hand before holding your own and putting it back in your palm, “if it’s not your heart that you give me then I want nothing else,” gojo sighs and catches your hand before it slaps him, “can you at least let me explain?”

you snatch your hand back, “as if hell,” you put the money back on the desk, “do you not realize how bad what you did was?” your fists are clenched and gojo’s fighting the urge to hold them and kiss your knuckles and your palm.

he shakes his head at your question, so you continue, “then why can’t you leave me alone?” your voice is slowly faltering and gojo slowly walks to you, “haven’t you had your fun?”

“y/n, I have said multiple times that I am not doing this for fun,” he says and you glare at him and he sighs, “listen, I admit that I did start talking to you again because I was curious about your technique,” at that you turn your head away from him, “but I swear to you that all the time I spent with you after was truthful and genuine.”

he wants to hold your chin and make you look at him, pull you to his chest and whisper sweet nothings to your ear but the bandages around his palm warn him about how that would go.

gojo hears you let out a sigh and some hope sparks in chest, “I can’t trust you that easily again, gojo,” the hope dies as quick as it lights up. you look at him, face stern but with a hint of softness, “we are adults, right?”

he quips, “and I am older than you.”

you ignore the remark and continue, “adults respect boundaries so leave me alone, please,” you walk past him but he holds your wrist and is thankful taht nothing slashes his hand this time.

“y/n, I am not giving up.”

you don’t turn to him but still entertain him for a moment, “on?”

“on you,” he answers and you scoff, walking away.

you hear him yell, “you know out of everyone how stubborn I am!” your steps don’t falter, “I swear that you won’t be able to get rid of me!”

sooner or later, you will file a restraining order, you figure as you leave behind a determined gojo.

suprisingly, but unsuprisingly at the same time, he keeps at his antics. it takes you back to the first time he tried talking to you after you successfully broke the engagment. he was like a buzzing fly, always talking and always following you.

now, it’s the same but the fly has turned into a bee, always dripping with honey. he threw sweet words and flowers at you at any given moment, even if you did not spare him a mere glance. gojo got you gifts, gifts he knew by heart you would like and it pissed you off.

“y/nnnn!” he beams when you enter the gates of building and you quickly go to nanami’s side, who was conveniently there after getting his bread.

the blonde shields you with his arm, “gojo-san, please leave y/n alone,” his glare is sharp, “you are more than old enough to understand that she doesn’t want you near her.”

gojo pouts before snapping his finger and lo and behold another bouquet of flowers appears in his other hand. the bouquet is full of yellow pansies, geraniums, and gladiouses, you notice.

he is a cunning and perceptive bastard, but you weren’t going to falter. you are tired of this game he is playing and aren’t willing to be a player two.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @fiona782 @ginneko @kisakitwister @iamjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @sagejin @evalynne @shuxjodie @amii-babii @literaturememesfordummies @bakugossanity @greeniegreengreen @mykyoon @arehzhera @carirosesg @akazxii @venyan @rhiancries @jinx210 @kitacore @ioverjn @skzismyhome

do not copy or plagiarize or i will cry

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isekai-crow · 4 months

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Mashle 2 Episode 2

Other Episodes-> ep1 ep3 ep4 ep5

This episode was a riot. It was so much fun.

SO many random HP easter eggs and we get some new fun characters!!

Specifically, Margarette Macaron!!

I love them. Non-binary, music magic, and a love of tartar sauce (and a motorcycle in the ending credits!). (It me? maybe.) Despite seeming like an overused Okama-trope, I have hope based on the spoilers I went searching for. I'm so hype for more of them in the next episode.

VA Squee: They're voiced by Koyasu, Takehito!!! The voice of Dio Brando! Touji Fushiguro! Faust VIII from Shaman King! and Clayman from TenSura!!! A very masculine voice that can also take on feminine tones and a perfect fit for Margarette. Manga Spoiler: I wonder if they'll have another va...

Ep 2 Spoilers Under the Cut! Warning IT'S SO LONG THERE'S SO MUCH.

We open in the middle of the decision to execute Mash or not, and Dumbledore, Harry, and Draco having a stand off lmao

We learn that Whalberg/Dumbledore is a famous wizard because he fought with Innocent Zero in his youth.

Does this mean the shadowed Innocent Zero who was called father by Cell War is the equivalent of Grindelwald, and Evil Jesus(Cell War (or cell wall if you wanna be a pun) is Voldemort? (Also is it father or Father lololol)

ALSO, ARE ALL THESE NAMES FROM A RNG OR PUNS CAUSE I CAN'T TELL YET lmao

We get a little speech from Wahlberg reminiscent of one of Dumbledore's speeches, but more importantly, WHAT IS THE SIGNIFICANCE OF RAYNE ALSO BOWING???

Also his protecting the headmaster is a cute touch

I get that he is one of the Divine Visionaries, but is he more important than the others? He's still a student, wait, HOW DO STUDENTS HAVE THIS MUCH POWER IN THE GOVERNMENT?? NO WONDER ITS FUCKED UP??? Did I miss something??? (His reasoning for not wanting Mash dead also being the flashback to Rayne thanking him for taking care of his little brother?)

And of course Mashle can't be executed, so they set they give him a task to delay his sentencing...

The original goal Mash had in the first place, so ABSOLUTELY NOTHING HAS CHANGED.

Them backing the fuck up as Mash punches the floor is fricken hilarious. The best parts though...

1) Innocent Pero / Innocent Gyro - Thats a great subtitle translation choice, because they can't do a straight translation. Mash calls them Innocent Pero, with pero being the onomatopoeia for LICKING something in Japanese (WHATS THAT IMPLYING :EYES:), so Innocent Gyro is a good choice XD

and 2) the scene cuts to the bad guy's lair... which also seems to be shaking...

(I went and installed a gif maker for this >.>)

DON'T TELL ME. IS THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS UNDER THE BUREAU OF MAGIC????? (This is my theory and I'm sticking to it. Season 1 semi-stuck with random Philosopher's Stone plot points and the secret rooms, so it can be a semi-safe bet that season 2 might follow Chamber of Secrets?)

We then jump to an outing at the near by town to celebrate Mash Avoiding Death.

↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ The normal one ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓

Finn is the only actual normal one, WITH STYLE AT THAT, and I love him for it. (However he might also be the target of a Brother Complex and end up on the receiving end if Rayne can get over himself>o>)

The fucking Koalas...

What The Fuck Lmfao. That's all I have to say (but also this is a common gag for Japanese comedians and high school boys so... Still WTF. (This had my Beetle killing himself with laughter))

3 Wizards and a Macho walk into a wand shop and...

And the Macho is the one to get a wand. I'm so fascinated by this. How much damage is this thing going to do when Mash finally yeets it at someone???

The entire second half episode is so cute. Mash is so happy to have friends... I'm so happy for him....

But Also. Poor Finn. Look at these Freaks (affectionate).

YOU'RE ONE TO TALK. But Also Poor Finn.

The last bit. Our introduction to Margarette Macaron.

The fucking... shrimp.

Literally

It took Too Much Time for my ace-ass to realize they're THRUSTING the shrimp into the tartar sauce.

I love them? I love tartar sauce too. It's delicious.

They are so over the top. I love everything about them.

I've added too many photos to this post and tumblr is yelling at me.

So I will leave off with my hype for Rayne vs Margarette in the next episode!!!

↑↑↑↑Imagine me making this same face in anticipation↑↑↑↑

#mashle #magic and muscles #mash burnedead #margarette macaron #takehito koyasu #mashleverse

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cometiny · 12 hours

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So I was thinking a lot about how the magic in MLP:FIM might work if there was an official system, and I kind of ended up making my own and coming up with a little bit of lore to go a long with it. I don't know if anyone has done anything similar before because it's honestly not too complicated - these are just some ideas I had that made the most sense to me, along with a few original concepts :3

Essentially;

There are 9 Types of magic: Earth, Sky, Water, Fire, Sun, Moon, Love, Dark and Chaos. The first Six are called Arcanas, which creatures are able to become bound to. Creatures that are connected to an Arcana are called Kins, such as Earthkin or Skykin. Members of the same species can look very different if they are bound to different Arcanas, this is due to magic-dimorphism.

Earthponies are naturally Earthkins. They are often overlooked, though Earth magic should not be underestimated. Their magic influences plants and minerals in many significant albeit subtle ways. Plants grown in the vicinity of earth ponies grow faster, healthier, more nutritious and even tastier. Flowers become more vibrant - the honey made from said flowers is sweeter. Herbs that heal become more powerful, as well as herbs that harm… Potions, medicine and agriculture are all traditionally practiced by Earthponies. They also have an incredible sense of smell, hearing and taste.

Pegasi, bound to the Sky Arcana, grow wings and feathers in the womb as a result of magical dimorphism. They also tend to be shorter on average. The Sky Arcana influences weight and speed, which allows Pegasi to fly easily despite their short wingspan in relation to their bodies. They are the only ponies with the ability to walk on clouds. In fact, their near weightless hooves allow them to be so delicate, that they build entire cities out of clouds. They tend to be physically weaker on average, but they make up for it by being incomparably fast.

The unkin Unicorn is not bound to any particular Arcana, but they have the ability to draw magic from external sources and command it to their will. This means they can even combine different Arcanas to perform complex spells. Though this requires that they are able to differentiate between the Arcanas - which is difficult, as they are only barely detectable waves. Most Unicorns can therefor only perform a small amount of simple spells such as "telekenesis" (really just a sky spell affecting the weight of the object and the air around it) or flow spells (the kind that Arcanakins already intuitively perform all the time) The Unkins ability to use magic from external sources allowed for the evolution of three more Arcanakins:

The Kirin, bound to the Fire Arcana, were the first to evolve from Unicorns. Their evolution also lead to the discovery that different types of magic have particular effects on personality; despite Kirins coming in all varying personalities, they're all susceptible to extreme (fiery) outbursts if angered. This frightened other ponies and lead to their banishment. The Fire Arcana influences temperature and light, They have evolved separated from pony kind for long enough to be classified as a divergent species - hybrids are possible, but typically infertile (like mules)

Moonicorns evolved from Unicorn shamans that specialized in Moon magic, a small colony of which traveled to the moon itself to come closer to the magic source. The Moon Arcanas pleasant effect on the mind lulled them to stay on the planet and eventually become bound to the Arcana and evolving into the Moonicorns we know today. They are not yet fully divergent, but are thought to be on their way - hybrid foals born on the moon will always be Moonicorns, foals born on earth will come after the other parent, only if two Moonicorns both mate on earth will the foal also be born a Moonkin.

Changelings, bound to the Sun Arcana, also evolved from Unicorn shamans. Contrary to their Moon counterpart, however, they do not live on the fucking Sun. Their magic gives them an almost uncanny healing ability, even regrowing limbs if lost and experiencing almost no pain in the process. Just being near them can somewhat transfer those abilities to others (the closer the better ;3c). They may change colors in a matter of seconds under extreme emotions. And most famously, they can adopt the appearance of anyone they've seen before, (although only as accurately as in their memories, and only for so long before their magic runs out)

However, a body so malleable requires vast amounts of Sun magic to upkeep - each additional part of their bodies is designed to collect more Sun magic, such as the gems on their chest, which work like batteries, or their wings, which work more like solar panels. Even then they are required to use Love as a magic amplifier, lest their bodies begin to rot and fall apart.

Other ponies grew weary of their abilities, which wasn't helped by some of them being genuinely manipulative. Any Changelings that were found out were quickly banished or killed which lead to them evolving separately. They are a fully divergent species - Hybrids possible although infertile.

Kelpies, the Waterkin, are actually the first to evolve directly from regular ponies, along with the Earthponies. Kelpies were so deeply drawn to their element that they never wanted to leave the water and evolved to be perfectly adapt to marine life, as well as being incredibly antisocial and even hostile toward any land living species. (They also have beef with the "Seaponies", which we know are actually Hippogriffs under a transformation spell and therefore not "real" Waterkins.) The Water Arcana influences Movement. In theory, every action has a certain flow to it, much like water. This flow is not necessarily visible but can be influenced, like putting a rock in a stream. Or even, combining two streams into one, which is why Water magic is required for fusion spells. This ability to affect movement makes Kelpies unbelievably powerful, luckily however, they choose to stay in the water and mind their own business. They are fully divergent - it is unknown weather hybrids are possible.

____________________________________________ Anyway! Hope you guys liked that, I'm open for questions if anybody wants to ask, that'll help me come up with more ideas, too so ask away please! :3

#my little pony #mlp g4 fanart #art #my art #au #ahh idk what to tag this yet

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anemonelovesfiction · 4 months

Text

Temper

Tonowari X Ronal

Warnings ⚠️: Arguments leading to smut, NSFW content, P in V, fingering, Dom Tonowari and Sub (ish) Ronal

Thank you to @ana-maria456913 for requesting this; it took a bit to finally publish it but thanks to your brilliant mind I have conjured this up for you, I’m hoping you as well as many others enjoy the work.

Secondary Warning ‼️: This work is NOT proofread, I’m feeling under the weather and was surprised I even managed to write it… don’t be afraid to let me know where a mistake might be, I appreciate you all!

Translation Station

Olo’eyktan: Clan leader

Tsahik: Spiritual leader; shaman; Olo’eyktan’s spouse

Eywa: The great mother (The Na’Vi goddess/creator)

Marui: Home

Tewng: Loincloth

Ma’Paysyul: My waterlily

Rutxe: Please

Ma’Muntxate: My wife; my female mate

Paysyul: Waterlily

Tsurak: A warriors mount (For water Na’Vi)

Sran: Yes

Kehe: No

Word Count: 2.5k

“You have heard what he has said. He took the blame for everything, that family has caused nothing but trouble the moment they arrived.” The woman sashay’s her hips as she walks down a hill of sand making her way toward the netted walkway leading to their marui at the center of the village. They wanted to be close to everyone, the plans had included the biggest marui- the one that would belong to the Olo’eyktan, his Tsahik, and their family- to be set near the heart of the people.

The woman doesn’t even acknowledge that her husband had held the curtain open for her to pass through, in the case where she would nod or verbally give her appreciation, there was tension making itself comfortable instead.

“You know as well as I do that our son was at fault, he is aware of the rule of hunting away from the reef, and in the instance that he saw Lo’ak attempt to leave, it should have been his priority -as the eldest son and next in line for taking my place- to guide him back to the reef. Not to make a show out of everything and leave the boy stranded when they aren’t as familiar with our home as we are.” Tonowari’s timber voice resonated and almost made Ronal wince, had it not been for the woman’s anger she would have apologized to her husband and attempted to see his point of view, but she was angered.

“Those children are not our people. They ran when they couldn’t control their pests, now they hide amongst strangers, making one mess after another, they do not belong here.” She stated and waved her hand as if the conversation was done with, not wanting her husband to lengthen this conversation any longer.

The truth is, she was nearing what would have been her heat cycle and she wanted it to go through without a hitch, but considering they were housing a different kind of Na’Vi that needed to be watched, her days have become stressful. Heats are normal for every Na’Vi and it’s mostly started when partners are mated before Eywa, once the woman becomes pregnant, what should have been her heat cycles just become a couple days of being incredibly horny- not for the purpose of producing an heir but to strengthen the bond between parents before the baby arrives- Eywa outdid herself with her own creation.

“Do you hear yourself?” He states as a dry scoff leaves his mouth, a look of disbelief on his face, what is usually a soft smile spread on his lips lies the look of a warrior ready to attack if need be, his face hard like stone, and his frown deepened to show his distaste for his wife’s words.

“Our son is at fault for what happened, you are aware of his tendencies, Lo’ak taking responsibility has thrown us in a whirlwind of confusion, but we both know the fault is not his.” Tonowari stated as he bit back his own anger, the last thing he wanted was to lose control of his emotions on his wife, not that he would do anything terrible, just that he’d be unable to forgive himself if he ever yelled at her. He was beyond the point of seething, and if it were possible, smoke would have been streaming out his ears.

“This discussion is over.” The tsahik speaks as she turns her back on her husband, not bothering to give him the attention he so clearly had two seconds ago, she was beyond frustrated because she knew her son was at fault, but they had to present themselves as a perfect family, and if that meant letting the forest boy take fault for going out of the reef unsupervised, so be it.

“It is not over.” Tonowari is quick to grasp the back of Ronal’s neck, hand not encircling the entire length of it, but enough to get her attention. As he feels her tense up he uses that bit of distraction to force his hand to turn his wife back to facing him, a wide eyes Ronal staring back at him. Without missing a beat he takes a step forward, hand still on the back of her neck, forcing her to take a step backward until the backs of her calves where being tickled by the frayed edges of the marui’s wall. Her expression is quick to change as she is ready to say something relatively rude until Tonowari speaks.

“As your Olo’eyktan, I am not granting you the permission to speak, and as your husband, kneel.” He states the last word venomously, his mouth in the position ready to growl at his mate for not having followed his instruction, one of his fangs barred at her.

Ronal is quick to close her mouth as she feels the grip on the back of her neck loosen, his hand still holding her there as a sense of control, she knew she had to follow what he said now, given his attitude- but the wet patch in her tewng wasn’t helping either, it’s like she almost forgot she was going through her faux heat. The events of the day had clearly clouded her internal calendar, but she knew she had a few seconds to listen to her husband or else he’d-

“That’s it, over my thigh. Now.” He is quick to demand, the warmth his stable hand had provided on the back of her neck was gone, and the breeze of the ocean air had somehow made its way into their home, causing her spine to shiver. She knows not to discard her tewng before being told to do so, and he is gentle while she settles over his legs, but he left room for her bump to fit through comfortably without pressing on her, and for this she was grateful.

“I am disappointed in how you have acted, Ronal, the children behave better than you.” He mumbles as his hand instinctively settles over her pert ass, rubbing one of her cheeks lovingly, she immediately bites her lip as she feels his hand leave the comfort of her ass, tensing up as she prepares for the worst, only to feel his hand returning the loving gesture onto her second cheek, a wry chuckle leaving him as he knew what she was expecting.

“Why is it hard to admit you’re wrong, ma’paysyul?” He asks tenderly and she only moves her head to look at him, seeing through his faux smile, but remembering his words about not being able to speak.

“Must be perfect.” She signs only to feel a stinging sensation on her bum, knowing she was being reprimanded for her answer.

“We make mistakes, we learn from them, we cannot be perfect all the time. That is reserved for Eywa.” He mumbles as he swats his hand back down onto her bum once more, a moan escaping her lips, mouth hanging open as she pants a couple of times, feeling her body warm up.

“You like this punishment, hmm?” He asks sweetly as he continues rubbing on her bum to help cool down the heat of the sting caused by his heavy hand, knowing he wasn’t imagining the movement of her hips to attempt to relieve her aching core, her smell starting to leak through the tewng and tantalizingly dance its way into his nose.

“I’ll take this-“ He manages to snake his hand through the weaves of the skirt she had been wearing, sliding his finger on the wet patch on her tewng, and sliding it down to expertly find her clit, slightly pushing his finger into it as he rubs slow circles.

“-As a yes.” He finishes his sentence as she moans loudly, the sound coming from her making his ears flutter slightly, wanting nothing more than to fill their marui with her desperate moans, begging him to let her come, only for him to edge her one more time.

“Such a needy thing, always ready for me, but your attitude makes it hard for me to want to reward you.” Tonowari talks to himself once more, noticing the slight dip in his mate’s ears, knowing she wanted to respond but refused to answer to prevent herself from getting punished for not having listened to her Olo’eyktan, of course he knew this, but he also wanted to see how many lines he could cross before she finally spoke.

He delights in the fact that her hardened bud slips easily past his fingers, even without him having to dip his fingers into her tewng, knowing she was undeniably wet, biting his own lip as he feels his own length harden. The melodious moans of his wife resounding within their home, her slick starting to make his finger feel sticky, meaning she was getting wetter by the second.

“Ahh, rutxe, rutxe!”

And all it took to cross that boundary was for him to shove two of his thickest fingers into her awaiting -and currently fluttering- cunt, and thats all it took for Ronal to finally break her silence and speak, even though the two of them knew she wasn’t allowed to. He would have rather stuck something else into her fluttering cunt but he was too busy watching her hips attempt to move back onto his fingers just to get herself any kind of relief, and at the angle that she was laying on his lap, it would have been impossible for him to stop her hips from rutting back into his hand.

His quick thinking had him pull his fingers out in a lightning quick reaction, bringing his palm to strike the cheek closest to him, Ronal sucking in a deep breath as it happens, the slick from her cunt starting to leak out like a river, a thick gush of liquids fills the air and Tonowari pauses for a second and notices that his mates thighs are wet.

“What else are you needing to be punished for, Ma’muntxate?” He asks rhetorically as his fingers find their way back into her warmth, feeling his own jaw clench at the need of wanting to desperately sink himself inside of her, knowing deep down thats where he belonged.

“First speaking rudely to me, second for speaking, and third for releasing your sweet nectar without my permission, what are you thinking?” He surprisingly asks smoothly, no waver in his voice.

“I am sorry. I do not like drama, you know this-“ She hisses as his thick fingers continue working their way in her slippery cunt, the feeling overwhelmingly pleasurable for her, she was close already but knew she had to hold back on her approaching orgasm. Although it was proving to be difficult as her sensitivity from having squirted over her own thighs and the emotions from earlier having tired her out a bit.

“I am aware of what there is to need to know about my wife.” He stated as a warning, fingers starting to work themselves faster into her cunt. “But I do not recall giving you the permission to speak either time you have felt the need to open your ungrateful mouth.” He removes his fingers from her sopping pussy and spanks her again, this time no orgasm having come from it, but instead, a lustful moan.

“Tonowa-“ Another spank landed on her bum, making its neighbor jiggle from the force, a broken moan escaping her mouth, a gasp being sucked in.

“Hush, woman.” He was starting to crack as he sounded irritated that his wife wasn’t catching on to him telling her she needed to stop talking. He’s quick to slip her off his lap and place her on the floor on all fours, the woman frantically turns her head back, thinking that their fun time was over, only to see her husband dip his hand aggressively into his own tewng, and pulling out his large cock, dripping in precome, large bulbous head already sporting a dark purple color.

He doesn’t hesitate in lining himself up with her hole, making sure to collect as much of her slick as he could in such short notice, licking his lips right as he sinks his big head past her entrance and feeling his entire body shudder. His chest pressing up to her back as he continues sliding his hips into her slower than ever before, Ronal knowing not to call out to him as she wanted to desperately come, but talking could prevent her from being able to.

“You feel divine paysyul, every time I enter, you take my breath away-“ A moan leaves his own lips and straight into her ear, making her throbbing pussy react by contracting once around his organ, biting her lip as it happens and feeling her nipples rub against the marui floor through the lined beads of her top, moaning at the sensation. Tonowari’s hands caging her in and keeping her still for him but its not like she’d attempt an escape from the pleasure he had yet to give her.

He hisses himself once he reaches the hilt of her pussy, his balls squeezing up against his body to confirm that this is where he was content, Ronal’s hips slightly pushing back to take more of her husband in if possible and wanting nothing more than his come to fill her needy hole.

“Hmm?” Tonowari asks her and she opens her eyes, blinking several times after having missed whatever instruction he had stated, or question he might have asked, she wasn’t sure.

“I am sorry, Ma’Olo’eyktan, I wa-was lost in the pleasure-“ Another moan leaves her hips as he brings his cock out and rams himself inside of her.

“I do not like repeating myself.” He grumbles in her ear before biting it gently, nibbling it at the slightest and watching- and feeling- his wife begin to shake as a high pitched whine leaves her mouth, a desperate attempt at making him move by attempting to ride him in her current position was a mistake as he lifts himself off of her, without pulling himself out, grasping his wife’s braid and wrapping it in his arm the way he would the leash for the tsurak, and giving it a tug, causing her head to pull back, eyes making contact with his.

He starts thrusting his hips in one fluid motion, Ronal’s eye contact ceasing as her eyes roll to the back of her head, he uses his other hand to slap her cheek lightly to attempt to get her to focus.

“Will you apologize to the new members of our clan once we are finished?” He asks sternly, continuing to thrust into her fluttering cunt, knowing she was close and feeling his orgasm nearing.

“S-s-sra-an.” She stutters through her words as her back is arched further the more Tonowari tugs on her braid, his cock hitting wonderful new spots inside of her and giving her newer sensations than the previous time they’d had angry sex.

“And not fight me about punishing our son for clearly being in the wrong?”

“Kehe, no fighting.”

“Then cum.”

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water smut #avatar the way of water #ronal smut #tonowari smut #tonowari x ronal #ronal x tonowari #my first non-Y/n work

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