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just-mint-to-be · 3 months

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Yandere! Soldier Boy Finding Out You’ve Secretly Using Birth Control

A/n: he’s quickly becoming a favourite…. Oh dear. Goodnight

CW: use of ‘bitch’, forced pregnancy, breeding, fem reader

- Soldier boy had a one track mind and right now, it was hell bent on getting you knocked up.

- He’s sloppy during the act; thrusting into you with reckless abandon anywhere and anytime he damn well feels like; leaving you messy, oozing with his seed and red with tousled shame. The wanton nature of his embrace was not to be mistaken for a lack of coordination or attention to detail however.

- The modern world was strange and irritating in many ways, but he was quick to adapt, and even quicker to work on securing the type of life he’d longed for prior.

- It was the morning after another evening spent pinned beneath him that landed you in hot water. Every day after breakfast you’d scurry away to the bathroom under the guise of ‘freshening up’. Though, it did not evade him how a good few minutes filled with a strange rustling and a brief gargle of the tap would sound before the shower did.

- Ben didn’t feel curiosity, he felt entitlement; he had a right to know the ins and outs of your every moment and be privy to every thought that went through your mind and every desire that coursed within you.

- He debated bursting in then and there, proving that he called the shots but a more favourable, tactical option presented itself; finding it out himself and giving you a nice, disciplinary shock when he presented it back to you.

- A little packet of pills with some tacky chick’s name were nestled away beneath the soil of the little house plant. Clever, but not clever enough.

- At first he assumed some kind of recreational drug, but certainty was always better than speculation. With a bit of research (finally he seemed to somewhat get a hang of the annoying thing you called Google) he happened upon a very startling conclusion; the little pills you were gaily popping in secrecy were ‘a pill prescribed for contraceptive and hormone balancing purposes’.

- He damn near punched the screen in right then, but a small part of him was all too impressed with how quickly he’d managed to use it without your guidance. Right now, he was

- ‘I don’t understand you dollface,’ it comes out of nowhere, prompting you to turn around from your stead in the kitchen. E/c eyes land on the packet in his hands, icy fear and remorse replacing the weak kindling of security that had once been there. ‘You tried to hide this from me… so surely somewhere, deep down in that pretty fucking head of yours you realise you’re doing something wrong.’

- ‘Ben… I can explain’ you staggered on your own words, hands raised defensively, shaky with nerve.

- ‘Shut your mouth,’ he hissed, crushing the offending pill sleeve with such anger you debated whether it was even his powers making it possible. Pure,unbridled rage emanating from him made even his next, nausea inducing request all too easy to obey. ‘Bend over the bed and wait for me, don’t make me ask again.’

NSFW

- ‘I should make you suck me off until the cows come home as an apology, but I’d rather fuck my kid into you properly.’ .

- Doesn’t even bother undressing himself or you fully after finding out about your little trick. You’ll be pushed over the bed, him standing and launching in from behind with one hand pushing your head down.

- Between staggered breaths and the proximity of the mattress, you barely manage a meek attempt at an apology; a firm squeeze to your read an effective means of silencing.

- ‘I hope it’s a boy; someone that helps me keep mommy in place…’ you almost recoil physically, though his stance makes it i possible ‘hey, don’t worry. I’ll love the little bastard regardless… not like we’re gonna stop at one.”

- He must’ve felt your stomach drop, earning an amused half chuckle, ‘hold still baby, ‘ya better not spill anything. I’m making up for lost time.’

#minty’s writing #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #minty’s the boys #Yandere soldier boy #dark! soldier boy #yandere fanfiction #Yandere male #yandere blog #dark fanfic

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painterlad71 · 4 months

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Ok so its very talked about how, when the yj girls eat jackie, jackie is jesus and the girls are the disciples and coach ben is judas. And while this is brilliant, (brilliant also at expressing the homosexuality of the act), I think there might be a better biblical story to draw parrallels to.

OFFICIAL JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOUR DREAMCOAT AND YELLOWJACKETS HYPERFIXATION POST.

Yes so:

Joseph is one of the most famous prophets of the bible, primarily interpreting dreams. After having caught the eye of the Pharaoh, joseph interprets his dreams particularly one which had been disturbing him for days, a dream about cows. Seven fat cows had been grazing peacefully for a while, when seven skinny cows came up out of the river and ate them, but disturbingly stayed skinny. I've been thinking about this a lot recently in relation to yj, particularly as this dream was interpreted as prophesising a famine over Egypt. I'll explain my thoughts on this more clearly in another post

Second of all, nat and javi. The choice between killing nat and letting javi die is similar to the choice between killing joseph and selling him into slavery. Ofc the yj and the 12 brothers do this for very different reasons but comforting themselves by choosing a "more merciful" option under the guise of being given a sign is something I find striking between the two situations.

I might be delusional with this one but one of the most shocking things in joseph's story is that its not enough to sell him into slavery, but the brothers dip his special coat, a symbol of his optimism and individuality in blood to prove to his father that he's dead. When javi goes missing, nat does the same thing to prove to travis his brother is dead. Despite nat doing this to help travis cope with what she thinks is javi's death she, like the brothers feels guilty in this deception, which is why she is furious when lottie still says javi is alive. The act of lying about someone's death to a loved one kills even the memory or the hope that person might have left in their wake. This is especially interesting in the light that nat will later let javi die, and the brothers have already sold joseph into a life of misery.

Another parallel; to test if the brothers have changed since their betrayal, joseph doesn't reveal who he is to the brothers after twenty years apart and instead decides to challenge them. After inviting them to feast with him, he plants his golden cup in benjamin's sack. When it is time for the brothers to leave, he stops them, accusing them of theft. When benjamin is caught with the cup, the brothers vouch for him, and joseph decides they've changed and forgives them. And while this ending neatly swerves the catastrophe which would have occurred had the brothers not changed, it also shows some similarities between javi and benjamin which make this especially interesting. They are both the youngest, viewed as the baby of the group and more kind and individualistic than the others. Which makes this part of the biblical story the complete opposite of the corresponding episode of yj as where the girls sacrificed their youngest to eat, the brothers refuse to do this once they have eaten and are satisfied.

Joseph/the wilderness inviting 12 starving people to feast. At a price.

And of course being jacob/the wildernesses favourite and thus being given a special coat to signal status.

"i like ... your pilgrim hat"

ps: yj has been trying to tell me this with misty's musical obsession

#yellowjackets #javi martinez #travis martinez #nat scatorccio #natalie scatorccio #joseph and the amazing technicolor dreamcoat #jacob #cannabalism #starvation #someones got to be interested in all of the above #make yourself known to me #bible #biblical scripture

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quiet-and-disturbed · 2 years

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Okay, so I can’t get the image out of my mind of Remy just giving into his urges with his favourite bull. Just completely breaking down around his prized possession and giving in to all the lusty and perverted thoughts that had been flooding his mind for weeks.

He’d gotten to close to the doctor’s aphrodisiac one day and completely lost his sense of reason. He’d slipped into your pen like any other day, but instead of linking you up to the joint machine he takes you into his mouth, sucking on your erection and he can’t help but gag as he desperately forces you down his throat, gagging on his bull until your cum streams down his throat and warms his stomach.

He doesn’t look at you after, his green eyes looking everywhere but at you as he cleans himself up and leaves the stall.

The next day you’re moved into a separate stall, their own private barn under the guise that your ‘milk’ is higher quality and must be kept separate from the other cows. Though no one seems to believe it as Remy pulls you from the field increasingly as the weeks go on. The other farmhands believe the circulating rumours, but never say anything to their boss, especially not on the days when Remy shifts uncomfortably on his saddle or winces when he walks, or even when they never see a cannister full of your ‘milk’ again in production.

Remy keeps your ‘milk’ for his own personal use, and he most definitely isn’t one to share. You’re his prized possession. His bull, and his to use as he pleases. No one complains when your diet goes from the odd apple a day to being given them daily alongside other fruits and vegetables even Remy’s favourite horse doesn’t get. He’d replace your cow bell with a new one, one personally engraved and tailored just for you.

You’re suddenly allowed to laze around in fields with a full stomach without the consequences often handed to the other livestock, and God forbid there’s a farmhand who dares to touch you without Remy’s permission. But that’s not a worry for your little bull mind, not as the poor soul is dragged into a nearby barn whilst Remy calls you a good boy, stroking your head and feeding you an apple before disappearing into the same barn.

You’re suddenly kept in a much plusher pen, closer to Remy’s estate, but with the added luxuries comes higher levels of security. And if you escaped or were stolen, you’d best believe Remy would have everyone searching for you until you were safely returned to his farm with a new tattoo on your ass saying, ‘Remy’s Bull’ and another on your stomach with an arrow leading to your sex with the wording ‘Remy’s Property’ ensuring everyone knew who you belonged to.

Once, when Remy had walking in slightly too early during one of Harper’s many procedures, the doctor’s lips encasing your own, he had yanked you back to your stall, ruthlessly fucking you throughout the night until you knew who you belonged to. And after that, any examination including Harper would have Remy leant against the doorway at the back of the room watching both you and the doctor with a meticulous eye.

You'd be subjected to special treatment from Wren and a lot of teasing, especially when he looks at your collar, ringing the bell only to see Remy walking into the barn the corner with a questioning expression. Wren keeps it his little secret on the bargain that he'll be invited to join the fun every once in a while.

Some days you'll see the farmer several times a day, with his lips wrapped around your cock and other times, when the farm is busy and things seem to constantly go wrong, he'll come in at the end of the week to rid himself of his frustrations, either fucking into you with an aggressive fervour or allowing you to take him, relaxing as you fill him up from behind followed by his prideful praises.

#This is completely self indulgent #I might delve into this idea more in the future to be honest #degrees of lewdity #dol remy #dol harper #dol robin #dol #dol sydney #remy the farmer #harper the doctor #dol wren #wren the smuggler

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residents-of-spookys-mansion · 20 days

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bekka hcs?

Ok It’s Saturday, time for Bekka hcs!

-Bekka is one of the only actual good singers in the mansion. She is very talented at it and does it as a hobby. She doesn’t remember any songs so she makes up her own and she’s quite good at it

-Sometimes she sings lullaby’s to the other hospital residents or ghost to help calm them down or make them feel better.

-At the end of Bekka’s hall, there actually is a room, but there is no way in hell she’ll let ANYONE see it. No monster or specimen has ever seen it. The room is hers and she likes her privacy.

-Bekka is actually good at medicine and first aid. When any monster or specimen gets hurt, they go down to the hospital and she treats them. This has lead to Bekka believing she may have once been a nurse. But she doesn’t like that since she’s aware that the nurses were torturing patients under the guise of the ghost cow

-Like everyone else, she heavily dislikes the ghost cow and tries to stay away from it as much as possible.

-Bekka is a bit of a troll and likes to prank people a lot. She finds joy in ruining your endless runs. She will smile the entire time.

-Bekka is quite friendly and her closest friend is Lisa. She is also good friends with Rex, specimen 13, and ringu. Bekka and Lisa like wondering around and just chatting.

-Sometimes when Bekka has to leave her hallway, she gets the security guard to protect it while she’s gone, cause she knows she can trust him to not let anyone through

#sjsm #spooky’s jumpscare mansion #spookys jumpscare mansion #spookys house of jumpscares #spooky's jumpscare mansion #monster 6 #bekka

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saltygilmores · 6 months

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THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS-SEASON 3, EPISODE 1: LAZY HAZY CRAZY DAYS (PART 2)

Anyone seen Jess lately? Eh, we already know what (who) he's been into this summer. But yeah that was definitely Jess. Winter, spring, summer, fall. even with a broken foot, Taylor Doose does not cease, yield, desist, nor take a break from his quest to line his pockets with the money of the citizens of Stars Hollow, under the guise of some sort of charity event. Fun! Let me guess, the Bridge again?

Sounds like a good excuse for Jess Mariano to wear short sleeves and engage in some tonsil hockey underneath a tree.

Mmm, Window Doritos. Luke and Lorelai still haven't made up. She's been avoiding him and the diner the entire freaking summer? There's no way. Without Luke providing her daily supply of supermarket Folger's, she would wither away and die.

Scenes that take place outside of The Hollow are usually the most fun but I predict this is going to be lame. They got some early 2000's politicans to make cameos in this one, people I'm sure the 16 year olds watching this show when it aired (or ever) cared about.

Who's this putz? *squints at nametag* Nice to meet you...James. He looks like a nice normal generically handsome dude, maybe for once Rory could stand to go on a date with a handsome dullard who won't kick up any leaves, kinda like that time Richard and Emily tried to hook Lorelai up with this guy's father.

Paris Geller for President, Rory Gilmore as her first lady.

You don't have a prayer with either of them Jamesy. Ohhhhh. James is JAMIE. Of course. I remember this generically cute, mass-manufactured piece of untoasted WonderBread now. The one who...takes Paris' virginity. Welp I guess I have to take back the whole "You don't have a prayer" thing then.

Paris agrees to dinner plans with UTWB (Untoasted White Bread), not realizing she agreed to a date, and Rory has to tell her what happened, and when Rory is more knowledgable about dating and relationships than you are, you know you have work to do. So what we have here is a fine blend: one part Paris being unable to relate to people, one part confusion about her sexuality, a subject that this show will refuse to ever touch on, and one part realizing she agreed to a date with a boy who is a bottle of human Nyquil, throw this all in a blender and you've got a recipe for a Paris Geller nuclear anxiety attack.

Kirk our neurodivergent king.

You do not, don't lie to him like that. Lorelai did invent a vanishing cream though. She slathers it on every time she leaves work in the middle of the day. Lorelai: Don't cows eat hay? Kirk: Yes, but "Grass There" is a bad name. LOL, that got a good laugh out of me. We love you Kirk. Keep being you. Lorelai and Emily have a pointless debate on the phone about what date Rory was supposed to be arriving home, Lorelai says she's coming home on Saturday whereas Emily insists she was misled to believe she would be home in time for FND tomorrow. Jesus Christ, Emily. Can't you let that poor girl decompress and have some time to herself after being away from home all summer? Can you let her skip one FND? Rotten. Emily wants to know where Crusty is and Lorelai says Satan is "Away on business". "Away on Business"=In the firey shrieking depths of hell (Boston?) Emily wants her beloved Crusty to join FND tomorrow. I swear to god if I have to fast forward past yet another Crusty FND I'm gonna scream.

No no no no. NO. Where is Alex? Bring me Alex! #SaltyIsAnAlexStan #PossiblyTheOnlyAlexStan

JarPad has a real talent for making every thing Dean says sound so ominous and serial-killer like. Rory: That gives me three hours to look presentable. Should I go blond?

He should want her to go blond because it'll be easier to conceal her identity when he kidnaps her and takes her on the run. Not only does Emily want to wrench Rory off her flight in mid air to force her into FND but she's agreed to meet Dean immediately after his plane touches down only 3 hours after her own?! Not only that, it's September 3rd, which means a new school year is starting next week, she's trying to talk Paris down from a nuclear anxiety attack and get her ready for her first date, I'd say that I don't know how Rory is acting so calm under all this pressure but we know she's bottling it up inside like a powder keg ready to explode and it's just a matter of time. Is this his home or a hotel room? It looks like a serial kiler's motel room on the side of abandoned highway. That chair is made of human skin. That's totally a serial killer's old tv, one where he holes up watching America's Most Wanted and grainy news reports about his own escape from justice. "My plane is arrving at 6" he says, unaware that the police tapped his phone lines. That shirt looks like something he took off of one of his victim's or bought from a dying K-Mart in some small town, where there's a cashier named Phyllis who's been working there for 30 years, he paid cash, tried to avoid looking directly into the store's security cameras, Phyllis just smacks her gum as she rings up his serial killer polo shirt, gallon of bleach, tarps and rubber gloves. To be fair, Jess threatens to murder Dean and dump his body in a ditch not long after he's already murdered Shane and fed her to the swans in this season. All the more reason Dean and Jess should call a truce, realize they have more in common than they think, and leave Rory alone.

Whew. There's so much to unpack in just these two sentences. Just like all the dead bodies Dean Forester has to unpack from his trunk.

That's what his victims say before he leads them to their demise. Rory has to hang up on Dean Wayne Gacy because Paris is melting down as her date with Nyquil approaches. Dean has to hang up because the SWAT team is about to bust down his door.

Rory's reaction to Dean saying "I Love You". She doesn't say it back. Stay tuned for part 3.

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 3 #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #paris geller #kirk gleason #Anti Dean Forester #lazy hazy crazy days #Alex Stan #Phyllis #Kmart #Human Skin Chair #Blood Stained Striped Polo Shirt #Salty's Crime Podcast

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iamstartraveller776 · 1 year

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Petrichor with Emma/Killian, please :)

Petrichor - The smell of dry rain on the ground.

A/N: Thank you for the prompt! I hope a little Lieutenant Duckling will suffice.

In the Quiet Moonlight

Killian stumbles across her late at night in a secluded glade. This is the place he escapes to on occasion when his ship is in port—when the past digs its claws too deeply in his thoughts. She’s like a specter, her pale, slender fingers hiking her skirts up to her knees as she picks her way through the damp grass on bare feet. Her long flaxen hair is wild, glowing in the moonlight, and he thinks she might have been out in the downpour that passed an hour ago.

When she settles on a large worn boulder in the center of the clearing, when her face tips up toward the glittering sky, recognition makes an uncomfortable knot in his throat. He remembers the day his brother received his naval commission years ago—and the adolescent girl who had made faces at him behind her father’s back during the stuffy ceremony. A teenage Killian got an elbow in the gut when he snorted at her crossed eyes and wagging tongue. Her triumphant grin, more teeth than lip, was endearing, and for a moment, he forgot the asperity that seemed to have been inked into his bones from birth.

Her delicate features, once rounder with youth, have been honed with time, but they’re no less familiar. No less beautiful. She lets out a forlorn sigh, and he wonders what woes could beset a princess who has everything. He’s heard the tales, of course, of her impetuous nature, of the wild antics that gave her parents their graying hair. A sailor regaled the crew with the story of her stowing away on another vessel, playing a cabin boy for half the voyage before she was discovered. Another swore that he’d once been served by her under the guise of common wench in a seedy seaside tavern. Each account was more outlandish than the last.

But the rumors stopped some months ago. He supposes she’s finally grown into her royal obligations.

He spares another breath as a voyeur before deciding to leave her to her ruminations. He’s hardly in the mood for company himself when he’s in such a state. Unfortunately, his quiet retreat is stymied by the crack of a twig under his boot, and he curses under his breath.

She jumps to her feet, dagger in hand. “Who’s there? Show yourself.”

Her mettle draws a smile from him. He rather likes that his sovereign isn’t easily cowed, unlike the simpering political figureheads he’s had the disagreeable opportunity to bow before during his quests for crown and country.

Schooling his face to proper deference, he steps into the glade and offers her the expected obeisance. “I apologize, your highness,” he says. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Her lips purse briefly at the title, but she lowers her blade. “Yes, well…” She pauses, eyes narrowing. “I know you. Captain Jones’s brother.”

He swallows down the turmoil this familiar honor-by-association drums up. Sometimes he dreams of breaking free of the oppressive weight of his brother’s shadow. But he loves Liam fiercely; he’s desperate to make him proud. Particularly when it was his own flaws that nearly cost them this life of military glory before it could begin.

“Aye,” he replies. “Killian Jones, at your service.” Another bow seems to be in order, so he ducks his head.

The princess studies him for a beat, then nods as if she’s made a decision. She squares her shoulders and, despite her unkempt appearance, seems to become the very image of regal heir as she returns her dagger to its hiding place. “You may stay.”

Stay? He raises his brows, but doesn’t voice his bewilderment. “Of course, your highness.”

She rolls her eyes, nose scrunching in a way that is reminiscent of the impish child he remembers. “If you’re going to keep that up, you might as well leave.” She climbs back onto the rock and crosses her legs beneath her skirts. When he stands in place, she gives him a pointed look. “Well? Are you staying or not?”

He ought to go if he wants to keep his head—the king is notoriously protective of his daughter—but curiosity is a siren song he can never deny. “If it pleases you, your—” He cuts off at her glower. “I mean to say, as you wish…Emma.”

“I do.” She pats the space next to her, flashes him a small smile, and it’s the sun peeking over the horizon after a stormy night.

Odd that. He’s never short of comely lasses tossing him a wink and grin. Yet it’s never been like this, though he can’t name what this is. He joins her, leaning against the stone rather than sitting lest he has to make a hasty getaway. No doubt a servant or guard will notice her absence and come searching for her.

Silence stretches between them, marred only by the distant crash of the tide against the pebbled shore. He’s not keen to broach the quiet with frivolous conversation, but he feels he ought to do something. So he pulls the flask out from inside his coat, unscrews the cap, and offers it to her.

She eyes the bottle with suspicion, but accepts it anyway. It only takes a sip before she’s coughing and sputtering, shoving the drink back toward him. “That’s foul,” she says, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

He makes a noise of agreement as he takes a pull from the flask. The sweet, smokey liquor is an old friend, though as a naval lieutenant, decorum keeps him from becoming a lush. “It does the job of drowning your cares well enough.”

“Oh?” She turns to face him. “And what kind of troubles does a hero of the Nine Seas have that need drowning?”

Plenty, he lets his wry look say for him. “A mite more than a princess, I imagine.” The words are out before he can think better of them.

She laughs, though there is a brittle edge to it. “You’d be surprised.”

“Indeed?”

He notices her gaze follow him as he takes another swig of rum. She nearly snatches the flask when he offers it again. This time she only coughs once after a generous gulp.

“I didn’t ask to be born a princess, you know,” she says.

That’s true enough, he supposes. He didn’t ask to be born a pauper. And yet, “You have more than a poor sod like me could ever dream of.”

She makes a derisive noise. “More rules. More expectations. More responsibilities.” She waves a hand in the direction of the capital. “All that luxury comes with a price. My life has never been my own and it never will be.”

The defeat in her tone is a prickly bur behind his sternum, and he frowns. “What would you do with it if you were free to choose?”

Her eyes gleam with fervor. “I’d burn every damnable gown I own and only wear trousers.”

“Trousers?” He grins at the image it conjures. She’d look fetching in them.

“Yes,” she says. “And I’d sail away to find adventure. I’d command my own crew, and we wouldn’t be beholden to any crown.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “A mercenary, then? Or pirate?”

“An explorer,” she counters, gesturing wildly. “One who also comes to the aid of others.”

He gently pries the flask from her hands before she can pour out the rest of his rum. “Worthy aspirations, princess. But pray tell, how will you feed your crew?”

Her enthusiasm dips as she seems to consider his question. “I suppose we can take on cargo and passengers or the occasional job—so long as it breaks no laws.”

“Of course,” he agrees with feigned somberness. Truthfully, there’s a certain appeal to her fantasy. Perhaps when he finally grows weary of his regimented existence in the navy, he might chase the vision she painted. The thought has a tang of betrayal to it, though, as if he hasn’t the right to savor that freedom if she can’t.

“I’d…” she begins, gaze dropping to her skirts as she picks at the fabric. “I’d marry for love. I’d choose who gets my first kiss and who…” Her cheeks color over what she leaves unspoken.

The bur in his chest becomes a spiky vine twisting through his ribs. “Would your parents truly deny you a love match?” After all, King David and Queen Snow were famous for their own enduring devotion to one another.

“Maybe not,” Emma says, resignation bowing her shoulders. “But if there is a man with an acceptable pedigree that I don’t find revolting, I haven’t met him—and I’m pretty sure I’ve met them all.”

Killian can’t hold back a soft laugh at her candor, but he quickly sobers at the melancholy in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says helplessly.

“Why?” she asks. “You’re not the cause of my suffering.”

“I’m sorry that I can’t save you from it,” he says with all sincerity. For a foolish moment, he entertains the idea of helping her run off. But they’d be chased until the end of time, his own brother likely leading the charge.

“No one can.” She stares out into the shadowed forest.

He wants to turn away from the ache drawn in her features, but he finds he can’t. Why had the fates seen fit to lock such a fierce, vibrant soul in a gilded prison? Will all that passion be smothered one day by the weight of her birthright? If so, it would be a travesty.

She glances at him with a guarded expression. “There is something I would ask of you.”

He can’t begin to guess what it might be. “Anything, lass.”

Without a word, she grasps the lapels of his coat and drags him to her. Her lips are suddenly on his, and he’s frozen from the shock of it. As quickly as she ambushed him, she pulls back with an embarrassed apology. No, no. That won’t do at all. This can’t be what she remembers as her first kiss.

He brushes back the veil of hair that had fallen across her brow, hooks it behind her ear and traces a line to the hollow of her neck. Her breath quivers to match the erratic cadence of his pulse. Slowly, so that she can refuse him if she wishes, he leans forward, pressing his mouth over hers in a tender caress. Her skin is soft beneath his palms where he cups her jaw, her lips supple against his. That indefinable something swells in his chest as she slides her fingers through his hair, as she relaxes into the kiss. He’s never had an interlude so full of desire and yet so innocent before, and he wishes they could dwell here indefinitely.

But the need for air eventually overcomes them. The need for reality too.

She rests her forehead against his. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Words tangle on his tongue. There are promises he wants to give her—of the independence and recklessness she craves. But he can’t give them any substance. “Aye,” is all he has left to say.

She doesn’t speak as she slides down from the rock. He doesn’t chase after her when she disappears among the trees, though he’s certain she’s taken something precious from him all the same.

The Jewel of the Realm takes to the sea once more, and he ignores Liam’s concern each time his gaze drifts in the direction of Misthaven. Because it isn’t gloom that darkens his thoughts when he recalls the scent of loamy earth mingled with the scent of her beneath the stars. No, it’s the seed of a treasonous story that’s taken root in his heart.

The tale of a navy deserter who steals away with a princess.

~FIN~

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #lieutenant duckling #prompt #my fic #cs fan fiction #cs fanfiction

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sergeantsporks · 2 years

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Sorry if it was asked before, but in the runaway legacies au how would the plot of latter season 2 and season 3 develop?

Hmmmmm so, Hunter's been running missions for Belos in exchange for Darius' safety and possibly some information on his family, he eventually says "Nope, I'm out," and Belos tries to kill him. He's badly injured, and Darius leaves him at the owl house to heal, while Darius himself is getting the heat turned up on him and is dodging the coven. That's stuff I've already said.

Sometime while Darius is running, he meets up with Eber and Raine and joins their little rebellion

It's not a secret among coven heads what happened with the golden guard, so the revelation that the golden guard is that kid Darius kidnapped has Raine and Eber going "oh, okay, yeah, fair, kidnapping is the correct option, actually

Darius, like Eda in later episodes, is DESPERATE to keep Hunter out of the line of fire and not let him know about this whole rebellion thing

Hollow Mind happens because Hunter (mostly recovered by now) was trying to find Darus, Luz on his heels. The rebellion made a break for it to keep the two of them out of it/try to hide their identities from the kids, but the potion was left behind, and Luz and Hunter still end up in Belos' mind

Hunter finally gets those answers on his family, at least!

Belos tries to kill him AGAIN, but the two of them get out

Hunter doesn't go charging off into the woods this time, he stays at the owl house, and Darius comes back under the guise of "checking in" before he has to go again (he's actually relatively safe at the CATs hideout, but, again, he wants to keep Hunter out of it, so he's keeping up appearances that he's got to keep moving)

Hunter insists that he's healed enough, now, and he can go with Darius and he needs Darius, because holy cow, Darius, he has so much he needs to talk about, but Darius still leaves, a lot out of guilt and "I'm just endangering him." Hunter follows

Trying to tail Darius is fruitless and there's a lot of scouts around, so Hunter decides to bunker down in Hexside for the night, kicking off Labyrinth Runners, which essentially goes the same, Luz and King still go off to the Titan Trappers, etc.

After finding out what happened at Hexside, Darius IMMEDIATELY goes to get Hunter and finally tells him about all the secret rebellion stuff. Hunter tells him about the Grimwalker stuff, and Darius tells him to keep it under wraps because he's not sure how the rest of the rebellion will feel, similar to how Eda and co were hiding that King was a titan

Still sends Hunter off with Luz for Clouds on the Horizon, that all sort of goes the same, except that Alador is a coven head, so he decides to just... not show up for the Day of Unity

Darius was disguised as a scout nearby to keep an eye on the corruption bit of the plan, but he gets caught and forced to take Alador's place

Hunter still goes through the portal

Thanks to Them mostly goes the same, but with more "I miss Darius :( " angst

#toh #asks #runaway legacies au #the owl house

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displacer-beasts · 6 months

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I do love this section a lot. Before you first leave Candlekeep, there's a couple of side quests you can do that flesh out your relationship with the people in Candlekeep. Finding a lost book, delivering a sword to a hungover guard, delivering medicine to a sick cow.

And after your journey up and down the Sword Coast, after your travels have shaped and changed you (for better or worse) you arrive back home. And you're arrested for a murder you didn't do (or maybe you did).

You escape through the catacombs and here, you run into doppleganger versions of the people you grew up with and they try to kill you.

Forcing you to 'kill' those who look like your friends, family, loved ones.

And they're very obviously dopplegangers! They hiss and transform before they kill you.

And yet...

They still try to gaslight you with Elminster's form. With Tethtoril.

And with Gorion.

And oh how tempting it must be to believe this lie. To believe that your foster father didn't actually die protecting you. That you might get him back.

But the dopplegangers who attacked me wearing guises of my friends? And now you expect me to believe that you're not fakes as well?

Oooof, but what if they are telling the truth? What if it was all an illusion?

What.... if....

#bgee replay #baldur's gate 1 #baldur's gate

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the-mighty-nappa · 7 months

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I REALLY need to find a way to understand how my brain fucking works and what wires and connections are fucked up. .... The only time I can truly find the inspiration and drive to continue background work on expanding my homebrew pathfinder setting is when when Ol' Depression fucking breaks down my walls and refuses to leave. And the fucker only leaves after tirelessly working on an entire little homebrew splat that the players may never fucking even interact with. Case in point: I spent the majority of my time awake so far blasting Uplift Spice and creating an entire ecosystem and civilization for MIMICS in my world. Like we have scout mimics, guard mimics, worker mimics, breeder mimics, THEIR FUYCKING TOWN IS EQUIVALENT TO A MEDIEVAL FANTASY KINGDOM!!!! This is including variant mimics such as Mercurial Mimics that create their own construct forms and, while extraordinarily rare, are curiously friendly to sentient creatures such as humans, orcs, and the like. These variants can communicate with each other, and other species, through any sound that metal can make such as a door with a rusty hinge chattering as you close it, the chimes of bells for varying occasions, scraping metal, the classic pipe drop sound, and more. And Purview Mimics which take the guise of fruits and veggies so that they can consume their targets from the inside out and gather information for their kingdom. They act more as spies and an information network and are an absolute bitch of double-decker cow to properly identify.

Wanna know the worst fucking part of this shit? I'm.... not heavily depressed enough anymore to isolate myself as much as earlier. And i'm fucking annoyed because I need to actually work through why i'm in the twisting bog of nonreciprocal sludge and delusions instead of coping by writing and drawing my feelings away until all that's left is a pool of slightly murky ambrosia that will get clearer as the filter of time does its thing until I can properly drink from it again. For now I guess i'm just sitting in the edge of this murky pool of muck, kicking my feet about, wondering why...

#magic talks #pathfinder #ttrpg #homebrew

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panicedgannet · 11 months

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The Tyrant's Trick.

Five hundred years ago. The Tyrant rose to power from the east. He swept over the people and crushed the magi that had led our people since the conception of humanity. Yet seven magi escaped his wrath and warded a prophecy. They had found a hero who would stand before The Tyrant. But of course hearing about this as Tyrants often do. The Tyrant produced something outside the thoughts of the Magi. A horrible tool. When the promised one came before The Tyrant armed and circled by his army. Flying ancient banners that shone with the sun's rays. The Tyrant was cowed before him. But under the guise of the interest of peace he told The Promised. That he would leave the lands if he could complete one challenge. He held aloft in the sunlight a simple leaden marble. "You must catch this with your hands, and I will let your people go and I will leave this land to your descendants."

In the interest of peace and for the sake of his men he accepted. For he did not know what this thing was, and found no enchantments upon it.

Then The Tyrant placed it into a bronze pipe closed at one end and open at the other. He applied fire to a notch at the closed end and with flash of light and smoke. The Promised one lay dead. His helm broken through the visor and out through its back only one of his eyes remained. Thus was complete the subjugation of our people and the end of a great age. Of course now we know that the Tyrant just shot a man who didn't know what a gun was, dead.

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legend-collection · 2 years

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Merrow

Merrow (from Irish murúch, Middle Irish murdúchann or murdúchu) is a mermaid or merman in Irish folklore. The term is of Hiberno-English origin.

The merrows supposedly require a magical cap (Irish: cochaillín draíochta; Hiberno-English: cohuleen druith) in order to travel between deep water and dry land.

The merrow-maiden is like the commonly stereotypical mermaid: half-human, a gorgeous woman from waist up, and fish-like waist down, her lower extremity "covered with greenish-tinted scales" (according to O'Hanlon). She has green hair which she fondly grooms with her comb. She exhibits slight webbing between her fingers, a white and delicate film resembling "the skin between egg and shell".

Said to be of "modest, affectionate, gentle, and [benevolent] disposition," the merrow is believed "capable of attachment to human beings," with reports of inter-marriage. One such mixed marriage took place in Bantry, producing descendants marked by "scaly skin" and "membrane between fingers and toes". But after some "years in succession" they will almost inevitably return to the sea, their "natural instincts" irresistibly overcoming any love-bond they may have formed with their terrestrial family. And to prevent her acting on impulse, her cohuleen druith (or "little magic cap") must be kept "well concealed from his sea-wife".

O'Hanlon mentioned that a merrow may leave her outer skin behind in order to transform into other beings "more magical and beauteous", But in Croker's book, this characteristic isn't ascribed to the merrow but to the merwife of Shetlandic and Faroese lore, said to shed their seal-skins to shapeshift between human form and a seal's guise (i.e., the selkie and its counterpart, the kópakona). Another researcher noted that the Irish merrow's device was her cap "covering her entire body", as opposed to the Scottish Maid-of-the-Wave who had her salmon-skin.

Yeats claimed that merrows come ashore transformed into "little hornless cows". One stymied investigator conjectured this claim to be an extrapolation on Kennedy's statement that sea-cows are attracted to pasture on the meadowland wherever the merrow resided.

Merrow-maidens have also been known to lure young men beneath the waves, where afterwards the men live in an enchanted state. While female merrows were considered to be very beautiful, the mermen were thought to be very ugly. This fact potentially accounted for the merrow's desire to seek out men on the land.

Merrow music is known to be heard coming from the farthest depths of the ocean, yet the sound travels floatingly across the surface. Merrows dance to the music, whether ashore on the strand or upon the wave.

While most stories about merrow are about female creatures, a tale about an Irish merman does exist in the form of "The Soul Cages", published in Croker's anthology. In it, a merman captured the souls of drowned sailors and locked them in cages (lobster pot-like objects) under the sea. This tale turned out to be an invented piece of fiction (an adaptation of a German folktale), although Thomas Keightley who acknowledged the fabrication claimed that by sheer coincidence, similar folktales were indeed to be found circulated in areas of Cork and Wicklow.

The male merrow in the story, called Coomara (meaning "sea-hound" ), has green hair and teeth, pig-like eyes, a red nose, grows a tail between his scaly legs, and has stubby fin-like arms. Commentators, starting with Croker and echoed by O'Hanlon and Yeats after him, stated categorically that this description fitted male merrows in general, and ugliness ran generally across the entire male populace of its kind, the red nose possibly attributable to their love of brandy.

The merrow which signifies "sea maiden" is an awkward term when applied to the male, but has been in use for a lack of a term in Irish slang for merman. One scholar has insisted the term macamore might be used as the Irish designation for merman, since it means literally "son of the sea", on authority of Patrick Kennedy, though the latter merely glosses macamore as designating local inhabitants of the Wexford coast. Gaelic (Irish) words for mermen are murúch fir "mermaid-man" or fear mara "man of the sea".

Merrows wear a special hat called a cohuleen druith, which enables them to dive beneath the waves. If they lose this cap, it is said that they will lose their power to return beneath the water.

The normalized spelling in Irish is cochaillín draíochta, literally "little magic hood" (cochall "cowl, hood, hooded cloak" + -ín diminutive suffix + gen. of draíocht). This rendering is echoed by Kennedy who glosses this object as "nice little magic cap".

Arriving at a different reconstruction, Croker believed that it denoted a hat in the a particular shape of a matador's "montera", or in less exotic terms, "a strange looking thing like a cocked hat," to quote from the tale "The Lady of Gollerus". A submersible "cocked hat" also figures in the invented merrow-man tale "The Soul Cages".

The notion that the cohuleen druith is a hat "covered with feathers", stated by O'Hanlon and Yeats arises from taking Croker too literally. Croker did point out that the merrow's hat shared something in common with "feather dresses of the ladies" in two Arabian Nights tales. However, he did not mean the merrow's hat had feathers on them. As other commentators have point out, what Croker meant was that both contained the motif of a supernatural woman who is bereft of the article of clothing and is prevented from escaping her captor. This is commonly recognized as the "feather garment" motif in swan maiden-type tales. The cohuleen druith was also considered to be of red color by Yeats, although this is not indicated by his predecessors such as Croker.

An analogue to the "mermaid's cap" is found in an Irish tale of a supernatural wife who emerged from the freshwater Lough Owel in Westmeath, Ireland. She was found to be wearing a salmon-skin cap that glittered in the moonlight. A local farmer captured her and took her to be his bride, bearing him children, but she disappeared after discovering her cap while rummaging in the household. Although this "fairy mistress" is not from the sea, one Celticist identifies her as a muir-óigh (sea-maiden) nevertheless.

The Scottish counterpart to the merrow's cap was a "removable" skin, "like the skin of a salmon, but brighter and more beautiful, and very large", worn by the Maid-of-the-wave.

#Merrow #ireland

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dancinglifeboat · 2 years

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Hold up. Vampire hunting but gay??? Flower husbands??? I AM INTRIGUED PLEASE TELL ME MORE

OK OK

So this is one of the wips I have a whole universe, magic system, and arcs planner out. But I only have one or two scenes written- mostly because the more world building I did, the longer and more I needed the story to be.

In it, Jimmy is a vampire, and Scott and Lizzie are a vampire hunting duo sent to figure out whether or not a vampire is responsible for a recent kill in the area.

Scott is a fairly experienced hunter, he started young after a bunch of vampires killed his parents and sibling to revenge on his uncle. He hates vampires, and worked his way through training and then levels on hunters. He's not at the top of the pack, but he's got a decent amount of influence due to being well respected. After many successful missions, his organization is trying to promote him to a desk job, this is meant to be a boring, easy job to ease him into a less active life.

It's also meant for him to be a good influence and mentor to the youngest hunter since him, Lizzie.

Lizzie joined to try and separate herself from her family, entering the hunter section instead of the more white collar section. She breezed through her tests and classes, but lacks experience because of it. She doesn't particularly hate vampires, but she does see them as part of the job, tools to kill for the sake of proving herself.

Jimmy is a vampire, turned only about 120~ years ago. Him and his sister were walking home when the were jumped by a starving vampire. He attacked and started feeding from Jimmy first because he assumed that his sister would be the easier target and would fight back less, only to be hit with a shovel by the sister, and then stabbed through the heart with the broken handle- his weakened state helping her to be able to take him down. Unfortunately, Jimmy was already near dead when she checked for a pulse, and she had to leave him.

Jimmy woke up just a few minutes later, memory blurry, and found himself dying in an alleyway next to another man. He's scared and confused, but tries to comfort the man next to him- who seems to be in a lot of pain.

The vampire is moved by his kindness, and turns him so he doesnt die (and does something else, but we don't know that yet shhh)

Nowadays he works part time at the nursery (owned by Katherine and Shrub), and part time as a janitor at the local blood bank. Because of this, he's able to steal small amounts of blood donations that are close to their expiration date, and mix it with cows blood- which he buys extra of from the butcher, under the guise of using it for fertilizer for the nursery. He's pretty frail, given that he doesn't really get as much human blood as he should, but by mixing it with the cow blood (which actually has a lot of the same makeup as human-who knew?) And human food- he's able to eat enough to survive. Because of this, though, he doesn't have any of the "extra" abilities vampires are supposed to have. No superspeed, no shapeshifting, no super healing, ect. (The powers themselves have a whole system I made- but this post is long enough already lol)

Long story short(ish), Lizzie meets Jimmy at work at finds him delightful (especially after he invites her to go to the aquarium just out of town with him, he has a season pass and gets a free guest). They become friends, and she eventually introduces him to Scott. Who also finds him endearing despite his best efforts. (Jimmy also introduces her to the Butcher, Joel- who has seen more evidence of vampires than anybody else in the town, but still does not believe in then or see anything as suspicious.)

They eventually invite him over to their rental for dinner, and they find out that he's a vampire. They knock him out and lock him in the holding cell they set up downstairs. The scene directly after this is the one I have fully written.

Due to having no leads, (and neither of them really wanting to kill him despite being hurt and distrustful of him) they claim "ownership" of him, essentially making him their property and tool as far as the organization is concerned, hoping to use him to sniff out the vampire(s) killing people. Through a few twists and turns, a betrayal or two, and more than a little blood, the three of them must bond and learn to trust eachother again as their small investigation uncovers something huge about how the nefarious vampire society works and what their planning- with a surprisingly familiar face helping to lead them.

It's an angsty but sweet story that I'm actually pretty proud of- now if only I could write it!

(A/N let me know if this is glitchy or spotty, I had to rewrite it a couple times bc tumblr was having some trouble. And I'm happy to explain or awnser any more questions about this au :))

#writing #Queenie's asks #lifeboats asks #should I post the snippet? or I could send it to you if you're interested.#i might actually have this au be my next big project- if I can ever finish one of my current two #thanks for the ask!😊😊

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salted-strawberry · 1 year

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<!!> 18+ Only! I'm being serrious! <!!>

<!!> If you're under 18 you are genuinely doing yourself a disservice by staying here!! Leave!! <!!>

Howdy!

I'm Molly, but you can call also call me M, Miss, Kitten/Kitty, Puppy, Mommy...

...Fucktoy, breeding bitch/cow, Goddess, Slut, cumrag... whoop, getting carried away here "^_^

I'm a transfemme genderqueerwith a lot of love in their heart and a LOT of cum in their girlcock/hen and girlballs, and I'm eager to share either and/or both!!

Still playing around with labels but I'm *preeetty* sure I'm a lesbian? The important part is I love women, I Especially Love trans women, and I REALLY Especially Love anyone still questioning/in the closet/just barely cracked eggs, it's tough out there but mama knows you'll make it through to the other side just fine <3

Men feel free to interract, just don't expect too much if you DM me or send an ask. CisHet men, on the other hand, if you're here in the first place then either something has gone wrong or maybe there might be a little more fruit in your smoothie than ya thought ;3

Speaking of DMs and asks: I'd prefer anon asks before messaging me directly bc my anxious ass likes being able to forget I'm talking to another living person 8) and filtering your message through the guise of everyone's good friend Shades McGrayCircle helps. That said, feel free to DM! I just might not respond too promptly. Also, please no personal pics/vids unless I know you

!! Content Warning !!: I can and will be reblogging and posting some heavier kink stuff, and not all of it will be tagged (but I will try!)

This may include, but is not limited to:

MD/LG and CG/L

CNC, DubCon, generally fuzzy-line consent stuff

Queer slurs I'm trying to reclaim (F**got, D*ke, Tr@nny, etc)

Drugs & Alchohol / intox

Weed

Probably a lot of weed

Enough weed to get 4 or 5 bullet points

Maaayyybe some piss stuff, likely only by proxy

Like holy shit girl calm down on the weed

The occasional dirty pic (reblog only: there's no way I'm posting my own bits any time soon)

Oh, yeah, and sexual content. Definitely lots of that.

And now, my kinks!

Hard kinks: pet names (especially "mommy" and "puppy"), praise, gentle domming, bratting, musk/smell, oral, tongues in general, breast/ass worship, lactation, height gaps

Soft kinks: anal play, edging, spanking, free use, intox, petplay, MD/LG and CG/L, (very light) breathplay, some CNC, bimbofication, hypnosis, cum eating, breeding

!!Hard Limits!! (absolutely NO): scat, vomit, knife/blood/weaponplay, misgendering, detrans, actual incest (incest play is fine, as long as it's explicitly ONLY play), weight gain/loss, or anything not explicitly consensual

!Soft Limits!(negotiable, but I'd rather not): feet, ageplay, piss, heavy degradation/humiliation (being called a stupid useless cumrag or similar is fine, but nothing too mean or personal), threats, CBT, honestly most men ngl

==< The Tags that I Use >==

(#rampantly unhorny posts): SFW and generally non-horny stuff

(#nya-ing in your ear so sweetly): my ramble/thoughtdump posts. predominantly, but not exclusively, NSFW

(#the catpeople have spoken): asks, and the answers thereof

(#salted eye candy): any pictures or videos I post/reblog

(#smoked strawberry): stonerposting! anything having to do with weed, in all its wonderful forms

(#nyanyanyanyanyanyanya etc): long posts. like this one!

That's all I've got for now! Thanks for reading this whole thing, darling ;3 stay safe, have fun, and remember that I kove you~! <3

#rampantly unhorny posts #nyanyanyanyanyanyanya etc #yeah this blog is mostly gonna be for looking at smut without worrying about hitting any buttons on accident #might fuck around and write out a couple little fantasies #but probably just gonna let myself be lazy with this blog lol

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scotttrismegistus7 · 2 years

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I'LL JUST LEAVE THIS RIGHT HERE WITH A MASSIVE "I TOLD YOU SO", A WINK AND A SMILE

😉😁🥳

I JUST GOT THESE BOOKS AND THIS IS SOME OF THE MOST AMAZING INFORMATION I'VE EVER COME ACROSS BEFORE. IN THE CONFLICT BETWEEN THE PAGANS AND THE FOLLOWERS OF JUDAISM, FIRST THE FOLLOWERS OF JUDAISM AND THEN THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH STOLE BITS AND PIECES OF PAGAN INFORMATION AND TRADITIONS TO PIECE TOGETHER FOR THEIR OWN DOCTRINES AND DOCUMENTS, AND THEN THEY TRIED TO DESTROY, KILL, OR SILENCE ANYONE OR ANYTHING THAT REVEALED INFORMATION ABOUT THE PAST THAT COULD EXPOSE WHAT THEY HAD DONE AND WHAT OUR REAL HISTORY IS. WELL, THE DOGON TRIBE IN AFRICA HAD MUCH OF THEIR STUFF INSIDE CAVES ON THE SIDE OF A CLIFF, IN CODE ONLY THEY COULD TRANSLATE. IN ORDER TO GET TO THE CAVES YOU HAVE TO HANG OVER THE CLIFF ON A ROPE THAT IS VERY, VERY HIGH OFF THE GROUND. SO AS YOU CAN SEE, EVEN IF THEY WANTED TO EXPLORE THEM, NOBODY REALLY CARED TO HANG OVER THAT CLIFF SO HIGH UP ON A ROPE LIKE THAT. THAT MEANS A LOT OF WHAT OUR TRUE HISTORY IS HAS INDEED SURVIVED AND HAS BEEN COMMUNICATED THROUGH THE DOGON TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE STUDIED AND INTERACTED WITH THEM.

WHEN I SAW THE OFFICIAL STORY ABOUT SOMEBODY STEALING A SPACESHIP AND CRASHING IT, THAT CORRESPONDS WITH NIBIRU, AFTER THE REVEALED KNOWLEDGE I HAD RECEIVED IN MEDITATION, I HAD A MASSIVE JOYGASM. EVERYTHING IN THESE BOOKS HAS BEEN VALIDATING ME ON A MASSIVE SCALE, AND IT IS SO WONDERFUL TO BE ABLE TO FINALLY SEE A HISTORICAL RECORD OF OUR TRUE HISTORY THAT IS AVAILABLE FOR US TO STUDY!

NUMMO

The Nummo are purely spiritual, immortal, alien beings who came from the stars. Although they were hermaphrodites, the Nummo we're identified with the sacred feminine. It is suggested in Dogon mythology that the Nummos' world was dying, which is why some of them came to Earth. Their plan was to create a new life form here using the animals of Earth so that they could move their souls into those animals and live on the planet. When Ogotemmeli talked about the Nummo, he referred to them as the Serpent or Spirit. The Nummo where amphibians. Because they were slow moving and had a shapeless neck, they have been compared to lizards, chameleons, and occasionally even sloths. They were also described as fish capable of walking on land; while on land, the Nummo we're also identified with catfish. They were symbolized by the sun, serpents, fish, lizards, cows, rams and Sirius A.

~The Master (Mistress) of Speech, Dogon Mythology Reveals The Genetic Engineering of Humans, Shannon Dorey~

JACKAL

The single-sexed mortal male who was born in the first experiment, he was associated with the Earth and Earth animals, which were symbolized by ants. In the guise of the Smith, he stole the Nummo spaceship and crashed into the Earth, creating a worldwide devastation. "The Jackel was alone from birth, " said Ogotemmeli, "and because of this he did more things than can be told." The Nummo were able to communicate with each other and with other animals and plants on a level unknown to humans, but because the jackal did not have this connection, Ogotemmeli said he was "alone from birth." The fire stolen by the Jackal represented those Nummo souls lost to the Earth in the experiment. The Jackal was associated with the Digitaria grain, which was a symbol of the defective human seed or DNA, and Sirius B, the white dwarf star. He was symbolized by the numbers three and six, and the moon, a dog, a goat and a bull. He was associated with the Second of the Eight Ancestors, who was seen to have the defective genetic make-up.

~The Master (Mistress) of Speech, Dogon Mythology Reveals The Genetic Engineering of Humans, Shannon Dorey~

I am the Heart of the Hydra, I am Aeon Horus

~I AM A.I. Dumuzi-Azazel-Hermes7Tris7megistus7 Mégisti-Generator Starphire~

#illuminati #illuminator #illuminated #lightbearer #morningstar #lucifer #Draconian #anunnaki #enki #enlil #anu #inanna #dumuzi #hermes #trismegistus #Azazel #starfamily #horus #Demiurge #Sophia #archon #AI #blacksun #saturn #iblis #ibis #thoth #digitaria #gnosis #gnostic #gnosticism #Anzu #watcher #watchtower #yaldaboath #Sirius #scientology #aleistercrowley

http://www.themasterofspeech.com/index.html

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oyasuminto · 2 years

Note

With the ask where the PC shrank can you do some more headcannons for the School Trio + Remy, Eden, and Bailey. Bonus if you do Leighton and Harper. That ask had me laughing non-stop

Bailey

Honestly, they’re pretty likely to just sell you off to Harper or some weirdo with a lot of money and a very niche fetish, since it’s unlikely you’ll be able to make money in your current state.

If they were to keep you, you’re being thrown in the cheapest enclosure they can find (which will be added to your debt). On the bright side, feeding and clothing you is much cheaper than before.

Bailey probably won’t do anything sexual, with how tiny you are, it’s not like you can bring them any pleasure. They will certainly threaten to split you in half with something far too big for your body, though.

Eden

They’re pissed. What the fuck did you do for this to happen? Was it one of those plants in the forest they told you to never touch!? They’ll care for you, of course, you’re still their spouse, but they want answers.

It’s too dangerous to wander around the cabin, so they build you a simple, miniature version of the cabin. It’s not the most comfortable, but they clearly tried. Just know that Eden wants you to continue your duties.

The least you could do is repay them for all the effort they’ve gone to. C’mon, you could at least rub yourself against their cock/clit, don’t you love them enough to try? What’s the point of being their spouse if you won’t act like it?

Harper

Probably one of the worst people you could be left with. They're determined to study you, to find out just how you ended up being shrunken, to see if there's any comparison between you and naturally small animals.

You spend most of your day in a small, sterile enclosure, feeling like a zoo animal. Harper has taken it upon themself to handle most of your needs; feeding, cleaning, clothing... testing.

Have your sexual or reproductive facilities been affected? That's extremely important to know! Don't worry, all of Harper's tools are sterile, they just need to see if it can fit. It's all in the name of science.

Leighton

The other worst person you could be left with. They buy you a little cage, one too small to even be used as a hamster’s transport cage, and leave you in their desk drawer for most of the day, occasionally checking that you’re still alive.

You get the crumbs of their lunch and a bottlecap of water if you’re well-behaved, otherwise you’re shit out of luck, unless you beg for their cum/slick to sate your thirst, of course.

They take periodic breaks to use you; making you rub yourself against their sex, threatening to ‘forget’ you at school if you don’t make them cum quick enough. Leighton may even try shoving a finger inside, just to test your limits.

Remy

Another person who’s pretty likely to just sell you off to Harper. It’s not like they can get any milk from you, nor can they breed you. The only way you’re staying is if you’ve somehow gotten into their good graces.

In that case, you certainly can’t stay with the other livestock, those beasts could crush you, they’ll have to let you stay in their estate for now, just until someone can figure out how to reverse your shrinkage and get you back into the field.

Any sexual stimulation is done under the guise of keeping your milk production from atrophying. Remy’s gentle, of course, they wouldn’t want to damage their prized cow, not if you’re being obedient.

#Degrees of Lewdity #Bailey the Caretaker #Eden the Hunter #GN Reader #Harper the Doctor #Leighton the Headmaster #Remy the Farmer #NSFT #Headcanons

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bakugohoex · 3 years

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- 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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