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laurasimonsdaughter · 4 months

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I got a copy of Erdoes and Ortiz's American Indian Myths and Legends (1984) for Christmas and it is fascinating to me how various Native American tales portray romance between humans and non-humans. Especially compared to the European takes on that motif, which usually center on the relationship being doomed from the start, because humans belong only with humans. But this does not seem to be the default in the Native American tales in this collection!

There was one story which did portray the relationship as doomed (Tolowim woman and butterfly man, Maidu) and one where a human woman was taken against her will and gladly rescued by her husband (The stolen wife, Tewa). But there is also a tale where a wife is willingly taken by a great buffalo and when her human husband steals her back and kills White Buffalo Chief, she mourns him so that her jealous husband kills her (Apache chief punishes his wife, Tiwa).

That last tale, while tragic, already goes out of its way to show that the woman was happy with the powerful buffalo, and there are four stories in the collection that make a point of ending in happiness:

The industrious daughter who wouldn't marry (Cochiti)

A beautiful young woman who is a master at making beautiful garments spurns all her human suitors, until it is widely known that she doesn't care for young men. Coyote hears of this and goes to court her, dressed in his finest clothes. He does not offer her any gifts, but he dances very well and he brings a branch of blackcurrants, which are her favourite. She is pleased with him, so she takes him home, sleeps with him, and gives birth to two little coyotes. Her parents are dismayed and the other people turn away from her, but Coyote brings her to his home under the ground. There he has all kinds of clothes just as fine as the ones she makes, and she lives there happily with him ever after.

The Serpent of the Sea (Zuni)

The beautiful daughter of the priest-chief of the village Home of the Eagles cannot abide dust or dirt. Every day she spends almost all her time bathing in the sacred spring of the Serpent of the Sea and this angers him. He changes himself into a beautiful baby boy and she finds him and takes him home to care for him. As soon as she falls asleep the Serpent takes his true form again, coiling himself all around the maiden and all around the room. In the morning the whole household panics, but the girl’s father understands what happened and begs the Serpent to let his daughter return to her family once more, even though she now belongs to him. The Serpent moves enough to release her, finally waking her. She is very frightened, but after four days of ceremonies she bids her family goodbye and goes with the Serpent. As they travel the Serpent takes the shape of a beautiful young man, and speaks in a kinder and kinder voice, until she dares to look at him. Startled she asks him where the terrifying creature has gone. He explains that he is the serpent, but that he loves her, and that if she will consent to come and stay with him they will live and love each other forever in the Waters of the World. The maiden goes with him, forgetting her sadness and forgetting her family, and lived with him ever after.

The man who married the moon (Isleta Pueblo)

The great leader, weaver, and medicine man Nah-chu-rú-chu (the bluish light of dawn) got tired of all the young women trying to win his affection. He proclaimed that he would marry the girl who could grind corn meal so fine that it would stick to his pearl water dipper. The only woman who could do it was the Moon, who was an Isleta maiden before she went to live into the sky. He marries her and loves his moon-wife above all things. Two sisters, the Yellow Corn Maiden, are so jealous that they persuade the moon to admire her reflection in the water of the well, and push her in to drown her. The chief mourns so deeply that it no longer rains and all the crops begin dying, until they bring him a mysterious flower from a mound in the forest where his wife disappeared. He performs a sacred ritual and the moon is brought back to life. The corn maidens are changed into helpful, gentle snakes as punishment, and the moon lives happily with her husband.

The woman who married a merman (Coos)

A girl who refuses all her suitors and goes swimming in the creek every day becomes pregnant without understanding how. She gives birth to a baby that always cries unless it is left outside, where someone brings it seal meat to eat. The young mother watches over her baby and at night is approached by a man who says he is her husband and promises she will be safe if she goes with him. The merman takes his wife and child to the bottom of the sea, where many people lived. Her husband was one of the five sons of the village chief and the couple lived there happy and satisfied. She goes to her relatives once to get arrows for her little boy to play with, and once to visit her brothers. The second time they see her shoulders are turning dark and scaly like those of a sea serpent. She never returned again, but sea serpents came into their harbour, and every summer and winter they would send a whale ashore, a gift to their kinsmen above the sea.

Erdoes and Ortiz even draw a parallel between the tale of the Serpent of the Sea and Beauty and the Beast, but I rather love the girl running off with the Coyote and "the woman who married a merman" is such a lovely counterpoint to the selkie and mermaid stories I grew up with. I'm really happy with this book~

#I'm sure I'm missing lots of nuance and details in my synopsis #but this book is pleasant to read and the tales were clearly written with care #so I really recommend going to read these for yourself if they sound like your thing #American Indian Myths and Legends #native american folklore #laura babbles

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writerinloves-blog · 7 months

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Introduction of my OFC for my Kit Tanthalos story

In a time when magic whispered in the winds and legends still danced with the stars, there was a child named Lyra Calloway. From the moment she drew her first breath, it was evident to all who gazed upon her tiny, fragile form that she was destined for greatness. Her parents, both wielders of ancient magic that had been passed down through generations, recognized the spark of enchantment in their daughter's eyes. They nurtured it, crafting her into a sorceress even before she could walk, let alone speak.

For the initial years of her life, Lyra's world was a symphony of spells and wonder. Her parents, benevolent magicians who traveled from village to village, brought with them not just awe-inspiring illusions, but a profound sense of joy and curiosity. They painted the sky with hues of magic, teaching their daughter the secrets of the arcane as they ventured, creating a tapestry of happiness that cocooned her existence.

One day, the winds of fate shifted the course of Lyra's life. Their nomadic journey led them to the edges of Tir Asleen, a city wrapped in an enigma and shielded by a powerful magic barrier. Lyra, her eyes wide with anticipation, clung to the tales she had heard about this mystical place. Her heart swelled with excitement as they approached Tir Asleen, the very thought of witnessing the magic barrier fueling her young imagination.

Yet, caution mingled with her thrill. Her parents, wise custodians of ancient knowledge, warned her against wielding her magic within Tir Asleen. Magic, they had told her, was a forbidden dance within those walls, a secret forbidden in the city since the year of Lyra's birth. The very thought of retribution hung heavy in their voices, and Lyra, despite her natural inclination to explore, nodded in solemn understanding.

Their journey, however, was destined to be a tapestry woven with tragedy. Ambushed on the outskirts of Tir Asleen, her parents became victims of an unseen vendetta, their magical defenses crumbling before a malevolent force. In the chaos that ensued, Lyra's mother's voice, laced with desperate urgency, pierced the night. "Run, Lyra," her mother's whispers echoed, barely audible above the clash of spells. "Run and don't look back. We love you."

In her innocence, Lyra obeyed. Her tiny legs carried her away from the nightmare, propelling her toward Tir Asleen. She reached the shimmering barrier, her eyes searching for the door her parents had spoken of, the hidden portal through which she could step into safety. But she didn't see anything. It was a heartbreaking sight — a child, alone and abandoned, waiting at the threshold of a city that held the promise of refuge.

Eight long days passed, marked by hunger, fear, and the distant echoes of her parents' teachings. Her resilience wavered, and just when hope was fading, a compassionate soldier discovered her, a fragile wisp of a girl, clinging to life like a flickering candle in the wind. Tir Asleen, a city that had shrouded itself in mystique, embraced her not as a foundling, but as a ward of the castle staff, destined to grow within its stone walls.

Within the grandeur of the castle, Lyra's magical origins were a forbidden secret, locked away like a treasured relic. She was not born within those walls, yet she became an integral part of the castle's heartbeat. The enchanting aura that had once clung to her like stardust was now a memory, a whisper in the corridors of the castle. As the years passed, she embraced a new role — that of a diligent lady's maid, her hands skilled in the art of service, her spirit veiled by the mundane routine of castle life.

Magic, once the guiding star of her existence, was now a tale of yore, a dream faded beneath the weight of her new responsibilities. But little did she know that destiny, the weaver of unforeseen tales, had not forgotten her. In the quietude of the castle, where the echoes of sorcery were but a distant memory, Lyra Calloway's extraordinary destiny awaited, poised to unfold like the petals of a long-forgotten flower, waiting to bloom once more.

#kit tanthalos #ruby cruz #kit tanthalos fanfiction #Kit Thantalos x OFC #Kit Thantalos x Reader #hazel callahan #Ruby Cruz fanfic

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naranjapetrificada · 2 months

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Fanfic Friday for better or worse

It's another somber Fanfic Friday for those who love the gay pirates but I'm in whatever stage of mourning that "defiance" fits in. Recs at the bottom, and have two paragraphs I badly want to keep in my AU WIP's chapter 2 but might have to get bumped to chapter 3 if this draft gets any longer:

Beyond his appreciation of a good story, Ed doesn't have all that much time for gods. But given his impending journey south, he's started developing a kind of reverence for tradition. It sits in the part of his body designated for things like faith and dogma, which until fairly recently had been pretty hollow. Whatever organ or muscle occupies that space now has got him staring at the sky a lot lately. Not as much as one of those ascetic shamans of legend – people who glared at the sun till their vision burned away or spent nights on their backs in the steppe grass, scrying the stars for divine messages – but certainly more frequently and more thoughtfully than he ever has before.

One clear night last week Ed had even sought out the north star to make a vow to the Weaver Maid as she teased the threads of fate with her clever fingers. He had felt a little silly, until he remembered that it was his grandmother who first told him the Maid’s tale of longing for her beloved herdsman until their annual reunion in the eastern sky. Ed went to bed that night tugging on a thread of his own, long and unbroken, stretching back to whoever it was that told his grandmother the story, and whoever told that person, and whoever before that.

I'm still here, you're still here, and we're still keeping these characters and their story alive, even with our weirdest and least canonical AUs. No emotionally bankrupt executive can take this from us, or from the characters we've come to love.

ps since I think (?) Fanfic Friday is actually supposed to be about making recommendations, can I suggest that if you're feeling tender about all this, you might try some fics to help you find some comfort or catharsis or things to ponder? Or possibly just something that's incredibly, blood-glucose-skyrocketingly sweet?

#fanfic friday #fic recs #WIPs #ofmd #our flag means death #our flag flies forever #edward teach #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #ofmd cancellation #fanfic writing #fic writing #writing process #writing woes #from the firmament #baby's second longfic #chapter 2

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irrealisms · 1 year

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c!wilbur + change, and the lack of it

Dream Revives Tommy - TommyVODS // You or Your Memory - The Mountain Goats // The Year I Get it Right - Brook Pridemore // Amends - Eve Tushnet // all i ever wanted was [Wilbur animatic] - WolfyTheWitch // When I Say That Loving Me Is Kind Of Like Being A Chicago Bulls Fan - Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib // Long-Exposure Photography - Google and Wikipedia // Meet the latest resurrected gentleman of L'manburg - Wilbur Soot VOD // Try to Change - Mother Mother // Night in the Woods // A Deck of Cards with a Green Smile on them - Wilbur Soot VOD // Defining Me - Motherfolk // MAG147 - Weaver // Better in the Morning - Birdtalker // happy bday c!wilbur. you havent changed but i bet you wish you did by @yuker-deactivated

[IDs under cut]

Image 1: WILBUR [I know what I’m like.] TOMMY Huh? WILBUR I know what I’m like. That’s the issue.

Image 2: As clear as day, Lord, if I make it through tonight Then I will mend my ways And walk the straight path to the end of my days

Image 3: A drawing using the YCGMA color palette of Wilbur silhouetted against a background of buildings and rubble. The closed captions read “Am I right back where I started fourteen years ago?”

Image 4: WHEN I SAY THAT LOVING ME IS KIND OF LIKE BEING A CHICAGO BULLS FAN what I mean is that my father can tell a bunch of cool stories about back in the day when I was truly great. there is a mountain of gold that has gathered dust in the corner where I used to sleep, and look at all of these pictures. in this one, I am wearing rainbow shorts and hurling rocks at a shoreline. in this one, I am smiling in the glow of 13 lit candles pushed into a sheet of dark sugar. you may ask why I allow my face to drown in less and less joy with each passing year and I will say I just woke up one day and I was a still photo in everyone else’s home but my own. or I will say I promise that my legs just need another season, and then I will be who you fell in love with again. and then I will probably just say I’m sorry that there was once a tremendous blue sky and then a decade of hard, incessant rain.

Image 5: A screenshot of the google result for long-exposure photography. There are four examples and then a blurb of text reading: Long-exposure, time-exposure, or slow-shutter photography involves using a long-duration shutter speed to sharply capture the stationary elements of images while blurring, smearing, or obscuring the moving elements. Wikipedia

Image 6: WILBUR But now, man, now, thirteen years later? I- it’s like I came full circle. I’m a new man, I’m a fresh face. Isn’t that right, Tommy? TOMMY sighs Will, I- you…

Image 7: [Verse 1] Try to change, I try to change I make a list of all the ways to change my ways But I stay the same, I stay the same, oh I will try and try to change, but I just stay the same

Images 8 and 9: Screenshots from the game Night in the Woods. Mae, an anthropomorphic cat, is asleep in bed, and Bea, an anthropomorphic crocodile, is tucking her in. Bea says "I stayed here and got older while you went off and stayed the same."

Image 10: WILBUR No, you’ve got- you’ve got it all wrong. You’ve got it all wrong, man, like- like, okay, okay. Maybe- maybe I was unpredictable in the past, but- TOMMY [It’s really nice… ] WILBUR -I’ve turned over a new leaf, Quackity! I don’t lie anymore, I don’t- QUACKITY [Really…?] WILBUR I don’t, you know, I don’t deceive… I don’t, I don’t I- I know nothing about TNT anymore! I’ve forgotten everything I knew about TNT! It- it’s ridiculous, I- QUACKITY Everything?

Image 11: On the precipice of nothing new Fell into question all I held as truth It seems there's holes in all my fairy tales Despite my passion to preach them well

A yell hushed after many long worn years Not a failure to launch, but to persevere Being one so close to write upon my heart A testament I've since torn apart

Image 12: What I’ve been doing to these people, it – it hasn’t been because I was puppeted, or controlled, or possessed. I wanted to do it. It felt good. But at least I know I can stop; I just – don’t know how. I – (he sighs) I don’t – want to stop. (ugh) Goddamn, this one really took it out of me. I need to go lie down. (uh) End recording.

Image 13: Stuck inside a cycle of opinions Where there's two clear ways And I always take the easy one And I'm always left with the taste in my mouth I will do better in the morning

Image 14: a comic by Yuker:

Tommy: You said “I’ve died once and I don’t want to die again.” That you’ve changed. But that was a fucking lie, wasn’t it?

Wilbur: You’re over-reacting, Tommy.”

[Wilbur hesitates putting out a cigarette, and then raises it to his mouth instead.]

Wilbur: Goddamnit.

[Wilbur sitting alone on a bench, lighting a cigarette.]

Wilbur: I don’t think I have changed after all. Fuck.

#mcyt #dsmp #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #wilbur #dream smp #web weave #web weaving #would you still love me if i reused web weave elements. too bad did it already

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capricorn-0mnikorn · 10 months

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And now, for something cheerful, for cheerfulness' sake (unintentional pun, honest): More Longest Johns.

youtube

Lyrics (Source)

Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Gather up all of the crew! It's time to ship out Bink's brew! Sea wind blows. To where? Who knows? The waves will be our guide! O'er across the ocean's tide Rays of sunshine far and wide Birds they sing of cheerful things, in circles passing by!

Bid farewell to weaver's town! Say so long to port renowned! Sing a song, it won't be long, before we're casting off! Cross the gold and silver seas The salty spray puts us at ease! Day and night to our delight The voyage never ends! Gather up all of the crew! It's time to ship out Bink's brew! Pirates we, eternally are challenging the sea! With the waves to rest our heads Ship beneath us as our beds! Hoisted high upon the mast our Jolly Roger flies! Somewhere in the endless sky Stormy winds are blowin' by! Waves are dancing, evening comes It's time to sound the drums! But steady men may never fear! Tomorrow's skies are always clear! So pound your feet and clap your hands till sunny days return!

Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Gather up all of the crew! It's time to ship out Bink's brew! Wave good-bye, but don't you cry Our memories remain Our days are but a passing dream, everlasting though they seem 'neath the moon we'll meet again, the wind's our lullaby! Gather up all of the crew! It's time to ship out Bink's brew! Sing a song and play along For all the ocean's wide! After all is said and done You'll end up a skeleton! So spread your tale, from dawn till dusk, upon these foamy seas! Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho

#eye contact #undescribed video #the longest johns #one piece #bink's brew #cover song #English translation #youtube (auto-generated captions)#lyrics in post #Youtube

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fandom-ash · 9 months

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Beyond the Pain // Chapter One: Kiss the Sky

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Maria Philips (OC)

Genre: Romance with eventual smut, MINORS DNI.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

Ao3 Mirror: coming soon

Chapter One (Current) | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Summary: Maria’s first time leading a mission doesn’t end well. Miguel doesn’t hesitate to reprimand her when she makes her report afterwards.

The air was so electric that it could make Maria’s hair stand on end. With a practiced silence, she crawled along the brick wall, peeking around the corner to the chaos beyond. A screech of tearing metal shattered the silence as she saw a massive man, bulging with sickly green muscles, tear a police cruiser in two with his bare hands.

“Are you sure this is the Green Goblin, not the Green Giant?” Maria asked through her comms. One half of the torn car was effortlessly thrown down the empty street while the creature in question roared in fury. Officers cried out and began to open fire as they were approached rapidly.

“What do they feed their baddies in his universe?” Cooper’s yellow suit caught the moonlight more brightly than most Spider’s suits, and Maria kept a mental track of his position.

“I should call him,” Felicia chimed in.

“Hey-o! Want me to grab his number for you?” Cooper asked. Maria had to suppress a groan.

“Focus! Night, are you in position?”

“Of course, Bosslady. Ready when you are.”

More gunshots and violence tore through the hot night air.

“Weaver?”

“Locked and loaded.”

“On my signal.” With a smooth contraction of her forearm, a light-blue string of web launched itself out of her wrist and she used it to pull herself towards the scene. The air rushed around her ears as she flipped and landed on a nearby still-in-one-piece police car.

“Hey! Gobbie! You’re a long way from home, aren’t ya?” Maria stood proud towards the monstrous beast. It turned its massive head and blinked its beady black eyes. The Green Goblin was typically an old-money lunatic in some kind of PowerTek armor. But this Goblin Variant before her was something out of a horror novel, all over-sized, grotesquely twisted, and covered in scales and warts. He stood around 9 feet tall and had the approximate dimensions of a brick shithouse. If Maria got too close, his meaty mitts could tear her in two within a second.

“G’trash arkt narastra!” he growled at her, massive tusks dripping with saliva.

“Anyone here speak ogre?” Maria asked, looking at the scattered police force who were trying - and failing - to contain this extra-dimensional tale from the crypt. Before she could get an answer, she leapt up into the air with a flip a split-second before the Goblin could crash into the car she was standing on. A blur of web quickly thwipp-ed across his neck as Maria landed on his shoulders, squatting behind his head and pulling the web into his thick neck like an improvised garotte wire. The monster roared and began to flail and buck, smashing his arms and shoulders into the walls of buildings while he tried to throw off his attacker.

“Night! Weaver! NOW!” Maria yelled, hoping her Watch could pick up her audio feed clearly despite the impromptu bucking bronco session she was currently in. The burn in her arms was sharp and deep, like boiling water running through her muscles. Inside of her mind, a sense of worry that wasn’t her own brushed up against her own thoughts.

Easy, Spindle! We’re good! Just give me a little longer!

Sharing her mind with a mystical spider wasn't the easiest thing to explain to people, even other Spiders. Whereas most of them got their powers from a bite of some kind, Spindle seemed to appear out of nowhere into Maria’s life. Ever since their mental joining, Maria had not known a second of peace.

A line of web was tied between two support columns of what was once a parking garage, and Maria saw her opening. Leaning forward and pulling tighter on her own webbing, she tried to direct the raging bull of a villain towards the tripping hazard.

“Come on now, work with me!” Maria gritted through her teeth as she struggled to stay in control of the Goblin. More guttural noises spilled from his heavily-fanged mouth as he barked and snarled in a language that was far beyond Maria’s pay grade to understand.

“Toro, toro!” Web-Weaver’s golden form danced from beyond the web-trap as he fired at the target with quick, dense blasts of webbing. Another deep roar left Maria’s ears ringing as Goblin charged towards the distraction. Behind her, Maria could hear Night-Spider ushering police officers and stray civilians away to safety.

Almost there, come on!

Goblin’s colors became anything but green as his figure glitched violently, becoming a momentary gash of bright colors as his molecules surged with the threat of destabilization. Maria hit the ground with a sickening thud as the creature glitched through the trap and a few of Web-Weaver’s blasts for the few seconds his form was between dimensions. It didn’t take long for Cooper to yell as massive claws and fists descended upon him, and a loud crack made Maria’s stomach turn.

“COOPER!” She screamed, struggling to stand to her feet despite the ground rolling around her and her vision doubling. A flash of glowing red ripped against the dark night sky as a scarlet and navy meteor was launched from seemingly nowhere, crashing into Green Goblin with enough force to send the creature flying a dozen yards down the road.

Miguel O’Hara, Spider-Man, stood up straight and rolled his massive shoulders. His back was to Maria and his focus was on the anomaly. He lunged forward and in a split second he was upon the beast, fighting it with his own set of claws.

“Spider-Strike! Stay with me, girl,” Spider-Woman’s voice filtered into Maria’s ringing ears as she stumbled into the arms of her mentor.

“I’m good, I’m good! Help Cooper!” Maria hissed as she tried to steady herself on her own legs. Spider-Woman raised a brow at her behind her yellow visor and pulled her mouth to the side with a small ‘tsk.’ She didn’t release Maria from her super-human grip.

“You said you could handle this,” she warned, making Maria’s eyes widen before squinting shut.

“Jessica, you know I can!” Her grip on Maria only tightened.

“You’re bleeding. How badly did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine, just-”

There was a loud thud as the Goblin went down to the ground, wrapped up in Miguel’s glowing webs. Two other Spiders were helping Cooper up and assess his condition, while Felicia bounded onto the scene to help her friend stand.

The fight was over in an instant once the real heroes were on the scene, like it always was.

Maria felt like a pretender once more.

—

The infirmary always felt so cold and brutal, despite the always-delightful Spider-Nurses who ran it. While they were cheery and helpful, Maria always hated getting treated by them. It meant that she had failed. The feeling burned as her mind reminded her that she could had done better, be more skilled in some way to not get hurt.

"Nurse says it's just a fracture, so I'll be out for the next week," Cooper said, ripping Maria out of her melancholic musings. He had bandages wrapped around his chest to keep the rips supported and stable, and he finally sprawled out on the couch next to her.

"Hey, that's great though - it could have been a lot worse," she mused. Cooper shrugged.

"At least the downtime means I can focus on work. Deadlines have been brutal to prep for the Spring tour."

Maria smiled at him. "Well, I know you'll do great. I'm not into fashion by any means-"

"Clearly."

"Fuck off," Maria snapped back with a grin before laughing. "I just know that you do great work and that Van Dyne wouldn't be working with you if she didn't see that too."

Cooper grinned and ran a hand through his fluffy red hair. "Don't get all emotional on me, Maria. You'll trigger a reaction in my cold, dead heart."

Maria laughed, ignoring the headache blooming behind her eyes. "Can't have that, now can we? Go home, get some rest. Come back in a week and then we can raise some hell." She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes, letting her head rest on the plush material.

Cooper stood up with a grunt and rolled his shoulders a bit. "See you then, Mari. Tell Felicia not to get into any trouble without me!"

With a lazy wave her hand and a tired grin on her face, she dismissed her teammate and watched as he walked out of the infirmary waiting room. She rubbed her hands down her face with a sigh before standing up with a grunt and a pop from her knees.

Might as well get the mission report done and over with. Then I can get some fucking sleep.

The small chitter she heard in her thoughts made her roll her eyes. What do you have to be tired about, tiny? I'm the one out here getting pummeled. Another chitter, angry in tone, made her chuckle as she trudged her way towards the Lair.

—

The Den of Darkness and Sorrow Eternal, also known as the Lair, was an informal name for Miguel O'Hara's office. With the lights constantly turned off and the broody Big Boss himself lurking within, it wasn't exactly a place of sunshine and rainbows.

"You nearly let the anomaly escape," Miguel growled down at Maria, his fist hitting the desk before him with a force that made her flinch.

"It was her first time leading a mission, Miguel. Come on, go easy on-" The glare from Miguel silenced Peter B. Parker instantly. Jess pursed her lips at the display, an unamused brow raised.

"But the consequences for such an event could be catastrophic beyond measure. You simply don't have the data to predict the extent of the damage that would cause." The sharp, analytical voice of Aaron Parker carried truth. His four mechanical spider limbs curled behind him, almost as if they were agreeing. Maria nodded, looking down at her feet before gazing back up at the Conclave before her.

"Finally, a voice of reason." Miguel motioned to Aaron. "We don't have time to make mistakes, Maria. You know this as well as anybody else," he said, glowering down at her.

With a scoff, Maria glared right back up at him. "Well you'll have to excuse me for not calculating the infinite amount of variables that determine when an anomaly will glitch. Next time I'm on a mission, I'll let it kill civilians while I run some equations." The venom in her tone would make a lesser man flinch. Miguel stood firm, eyes narrowing and a lip pulling up to reveal a small fang poking past his lower lip.

"That's enough. Both of you. I have to be home before Franklin's bedtime." Jessica looked at Maria pointedly. "We will go over a run through the SimCourse tomorrow. As for you-" she looked back at Miguel. "-try not to scare her too much. We have work to finish and I don't need her quitting before then." Without waiting for Miguel to dismiss her, she walked away from the meeting, heading out of the office to head home.

The boss was muttering to himself in spanish while he pinched the bridge of his nose. Peter sighed.

"Come on Miguel, this doesn't need to be a huge ordeal." If he pleas had a genuine effect on his friend, he didn't show it. He growled lowly in his throat, glaring back at Maria.

"Do better, or else there won't be a 'next time.' Complete Jess's assignments for you and report back to me with the results in a week." His eyes reflected a dangerous red in the low lighting. "And until then, keep your nose clean and don't give me an excuse to send you home." He looked at the other two Conclave members present.

"Dismissed. Get out. All of you." He turned back to his consoles and monitors, leaving no room for argument. Maria turned on her heel with a huff and stormed out.

She hated him. There was a time where he could be described as "rough around the edges, but still nice" and that felt like a lifetime ago. The man who had allowed her sanctuary from her dimension's Metahuman Registration Act was gruff but also kind and sympathetic to her plight. He arranged her living situation - a small 1 bedroom apartment within Babylon Towers, several floors under Spider Society HQ - and for that, there was a strong degree of loyalty. He saved her, and so she would help him in return. And yet she wanted nothing more than to lay into him and scream at him endlessly about how much of a prick he's been the past few weeks.

Fuckhead. She stomped back to her apartment and once she was safe within her own home, she fell against the wall and let out a broken sob.

Spindle chittered with worry before Maria's spidersuit flashed with a blue light and melted away, revealing civilian clothing and a large jumping spider resting on her shoulder. She looked up at Maria with wide, blue eyes.

"I know, I know," Maria sniffed, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hands. "I just can't stand how he treats me. Like I'm… I'm just some walking faliure…"

Spindle stepped up and gave Maria's wet cheek a nuzzle. Maria smiled weakly and sniffled again.

"Thanks, Spindle."

—

The darkness of night that crept over Nueva York was broken up by the brilliant lights of the city below. Maria watched the cars fly by in their neat little lines, like ants to a colony. Everything seemed so small and insignificant from up high. The wonders of the city often dazzled Maria, whose wide eyes loved to drink in all the details from the year 2099. It made 2029 feel primitive in comparison.

"Lyla, could you tell me what that is?" Maria asked into the silence of her otherwise empty apartment. A yellow hologram of a woman, no more than 5 inches in height, blinked into being beside her, floating idly.

"What's what, sugar?" She asked, squinting through her heart-shaped glasses to see what Maria was pointing at.

"The… train?" Maria pointed at a train that was running straight into the air via a launch ramp. "I see them all the time, where are they headed?"

"Let me check," Lyla said as she adjusted her fluffy coat. A second passed. "It's a business-class train to the moon, funded by ViaStar Tech. Wanna know more?"

"Yes! Where are they going? What is on the moon that would require businessmen?" Maria couldn't take her eyes off the long train as it ascended into the atmosphere.

"Looks like the Monumental Access Corperation is sending employees on a company vacation to the moon's space station. Everyone could bring their families."

Maria gasped. "Why? Is the space station a place to relax? A hotel? Theme park?" Her eyes shined with a brightness that had Lyla laugh.

"Let me see if I can't pull up some video feed for ya, Maria. They've got all kinds of things on the moon!" She pulled up a small holographic keyboard, fit for her tiny scale, and began typing away on it, making small monitors pop up around her with information. Just as suddenly as they appeared, she paused and dismissed them all.

"Hey Mar, I just got a message. Bossman wants to see ya."

The scowl Maria gave the AI assistant made Lyla raise her hands in surrender. "Hey now, I'm just the messenger!"

"I know, I know…" Maria wiped down her face with a groan. "Send those videos to my terminal and let him know I'm on my way." She stood up and sighed, smoothing out her large shirt and lounge pants. She pulled them of her body, leaving her in just her underwear, and tossed them haphazardly on her bed before letting her suit materialize over herself. "Do you know what he wants?" She asked her floating companion.

"Not my horse, not my race. Sorry!" Lyla blinked out of existence, making Maria sigh. She walked through her living room, flipping on lights as she went before a knock at her door made her freeze in her tracks.

Who could possibly…? She furrowed her brows before pulling open her front door, coming face to face with the towering figure of Miguel O'Hara.

A/N: Aaaaa I’ve never written for Spiderverse and it’s been a million years since I’ve written any prose, but I’m honestly happy with how this came out! I can’t wait to continue the story! I’ll update this post with the Ao3 mirror soon! In the meantime, here’s some info about the characters here 👀

Cooper Coen/Web-Weaver and Felicia Hardy/Night-Spider are from the spiderverse comics and weren’t in the movie, and I was just so intrigued by their characters so I had to add them as members of Mari’s squad! I can’t wait to reveal more about my interpretation of these characters! Aaron Parker is my rename for the Superior Spider-Man, who has the name Peter Parker in the comics. IFYKYK 👀 Also Jess has had her baby! This takes place after ATSV/BTSV with some of my ideas for how the story wraps up. They’re not relevant to this story though, so these ideas won’t be explored in the story.

I don’t have an update schedule for this, so any new chapters will happen when they happen sksksksks

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spider man 2099 #spiderverse oc #oc x canon #;; fandom: spiderverse #;; love: miguel o’hara #;; ash writes #;; oc: maria philips

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sheep-from-rad · 2 years

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Asterism (SAGAU Ayato x Reader) Series Note: I have this as a spoiler for months now in my pinned comment. I was supposed to do this on August 4th but I'm afraid 4th year classes will start on that day so I have do this on July instead. Either way, they are the same festival. IF IT DOES OFFENDS YOU FOR ME TO REFERENCE TANABATA FESTIVAL PLEASE TELL ME SO I CAN PUT THIS FIC DOWN. Warnings: There are a lot of variations in the story but this one is the one that I know from the heart. Masterlist (main) II Asterism Masterlist

“So, you mean to say that this is a festival about lovers?”

Paimon floated lazily as her eyes feasted on the colorful decorations that lit up Inazuma’s streets. Two of them are used to attending activities and festivals from the nations they have been in but a festival that originated from a tale of two lovers was something that is new to their palate. Paimon will go wherever there’s food but she admits that this one caught her curiosity.

“As what the tale said”, Thoma started. “Orihime is a heavenly weaver and Hikoboshi is the cowherd. Orihime was sad because she thought she’s going to be alone, loveless for the rest of her life until she was introduced to Hikoboshi by her father.”

“They fell in love instantly and got married immediately but then they started neglecting their duties. Orihime’s father, the God of the sky, got mad and separated them. The god of the skies made them live across the Heavenly rivers as punishment. However, the god pitied Orihime and allowed them to meet once a year on the 7th night of the 7th month.”

Thoma stopped in near the shrine on the stars that connects Tenryou to Tenshukaku, his eyes trained to the glittering night sky above. Time has been moving differently ever since they became aware that someone outside their dimension is playing them. To Thoma looking at the night sky has become one of the rare moments one can experience. “Then why would the God of the sky introduce them together if he will just separate them?” The traveller asked as they take their place next to him.

“That is one version of the story. The other version says that Orihime came down from heaven and failed to go back before morning and that she and Hikoboshi fell in love”, he took a brightly colored paper from his sleeve together with ink and brush on the other. “Now that you think about it, the sky is clear tonight.”

Ayato, who is not far away from the three, wiped his sword clean. His work for tonight was done and he was supposed to go back to the teahouse to rest before going home when he heard Thoma telling the story of the festival. “Fairy tales”, he muttered as he looked at the sky above them. People always hope for clear skies in order for the lovers to meet. If the sky is not clear it is because the river is causing a flood and that means they won’t be able to meet for the year.

Unbeknownst to them, the sky above flickered for a second before a lone star fell away from everyone’s eyes.

Taglist: @chihawari @zuri-feather @tinandabin @eccedentesiast-sapphic

#sagau #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #gender neutral reader #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #sagau angst #sagau fluff #sagau imagines #sagau imagine #sagau series #sagau ayato

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anulithots · 7 months

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Anuli's story collection.

Anuli looooveess stories. It's a bit of a... problem? But fae will obsess over them. And collect them... yea it's going to be a thing. If you have a story but don' t have the excuse to infodump, Anuli is waiting is the ask box. Infodump. Tell faer all about it. (non threatening... sort of)

Here's faer favorites thus far:

Artopia by @osbob-the-existent

Remarkable Retirement (still have to read but seems really interesting) by @elizmanderson

The 'superpower story' by @inkskinned

Tales of Aontas by @full-on-sam

'The Weaver's Apprentice' and 'The Fey Courts' by @natyune-writes and @briarborealisocs

A Dreamer's Nightmare by @awleeofficial

The Changeling story by @paintingpuff

To Kill a God by @wingedcatastrophe

The Deamon king goes to a wedding by @inkskinned

Vanna and Vine by @batzyx

Granola bites by @forthesanityofstorytellers

The top secret WIP that you definitely didn't see but absolutely should go read by @holdmyteaplease

TWUECUD by @sm-writes-chaos

Defenders by @the-stray-storyteller

In the Meanwhile by @mylee-sketches

Sea of Stars and GE by @dancinginsepia

Crater City by @gummybugg

The Day my Dream Died by @distortedsense

Archmage ascending by @magicmooshka

The pumpkin by @necroticintellect

Made of Our Own Storms by @imslowlydisintegrating

The Dragon's Daughter by @tc-doherty

Where I can't follow by @fenatics

You are now Entering Suddence by @em-dashes

City of Blank by @66sharkteeth

Marble Sky by @somerandomdudelmao

The missing king by @clownpalette

#anuli's favorite stories #anuli the dryad #writeblr #writers on tumblr #read read read #book reccs #recommended #reading list

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doctorcanon · 6 months

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Voice and Accent Headcanons

Twilight: Roger Clark as Arthur Morgan

Wild: Al Weaver as Rex in Xenoblade Chronicles 2

Four: Aaron Vodovoz as Sova in Valorant

Wind: Antony Gonzalez as Miguel in Coco

Legend: Troy Baker as Yuri Lowell in Tales of Vesperia

Hyrule: Rory Alexander as Matthew in Xenoblade Chronicles 3: Future Redeemed

Time: Christopher Judge as Kratos in God of War And God of War: Ragnarok

Sky: Robbie Daymond as Prompto In Final Fantasy 15

Warriors: Chris Hackney as Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd in Fire Emblem Three Houses.

#Don't ask me why Four is Russian. He's always been Russian in my head.#I dunno why.#I tried to limit American Accents as much as possible but it wasn't entirely possible.#If I had it my way Sky would have a stutter and Legend would have slight accent as well but I cuoldn't find EXACTLY what I needed.#But yeah.#You might notice there are a lot of deep voices.#I like deep voices.#Linked universe #lu twilight #lu Wild #lu four #lu wind #lu Legend #lu hyrule #lu time #lu sky #lu warriors #Captain's voice was Baptiste from Overwatch but I changed my mind.#So now it's Dimitri. who was my first choice.

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everthewip · 7 months

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A WIP chapter for my Skyrim fic that has been on hiatus for a hot minute. I was honestly rereading it recently and there was a lot of cringing at past me's writing. Not enough that I'd change and rewrite it, though, at least not anytime soon. Warning for semi-NSFW topics?? I guess? Nothing detailed.

Loredas, 1st of Sun's Dusk In the early morning, moving down the mountain and away from Ivarstead, the air was warmer and pleasant; at least compared to High Hrothgar. Less snow hindered our way and eventually faded, exposing bare earth beneath our boots. The grass did not thrive as it might in warmer seasons, but at least it was not frozen beneath layers of white. It was the cypress trees that were the most beautiful and refreshing change, however. After days of nothing but mist and rock and snow, I could barely keep my eyes from drifting up toward those vibrant limbs; the golden leaves were almost a reflection of Celeon’s hair and eyes. During one of our rests, the High Elf sat against a tree trunk and napped. A leaf, plucked by the wind, fell tenderly onto his head, blending into the warm locks as easily as rain blends with a river. Celeon helped ease the burdens of travel. His chatter was unending, but I found myself growing fonder of his tales. Visions of adventure beyond Skyrim’s borders distracted from the ache in my feet and helped pass the time. In return, I offered what few stories I had of life in the city. They were dull, compared to his, but Celeon’s enthusiasm for them made me feel like the grandest weaver of words.

The weather chilled the closer we came to Kynesgrove. One night the sky was dark, snow clouds hiding the stars. The flakes drifted down, gentle and lovely, but they promised much colder nights going forward and I could find no pleasure in their beauty. Celeon kept our campfire burning, but after several days through the Rift it seemed like nothing could keep me warm. We retired early that night, the heat of his magic and body beside me somehow more comforting than the fire. “I must know,” he began as we lay there, neither weary enough to sleep. He was on his back, watching the roof of our tent, but as usual I lay on my side and faced away from him. “In Solitude, did you ever have any... surprising and shocking patrons?” I could hear the teasing in his voice. “I don’t know what you mean.” “Of course you do!” The blanket shifted as he turned to face me and with reluctance I followed suit. It was dark in the tent, but I could still see him; the glint in his eyes was unmistakable. “Why do you want to know?” “Because I’m bored, I’m not ready to sleep, and this topic is of interest to me.” “Oh I’m sure it is. Well, no, all of my patrons were boring little men.”

He exhaled a dramatic sigh and flopped back, flat against his bedroll. “I don’t believe you. I bet you had countless noblemen who risked scandal to have you in their beds.” “Noble or not, they were all still boring little men.” “And women?” “A few... less boring, I suppose.” He turned to face me again and I knew I’d made a mistake. “Well now you have to tell me!”

It was my turn to sigh, to which Celeon grinned; he knew he'd won.

“I don't have to tell you anything,” I reminded him while his eyes gloated in the darkness. “Ugh, fine… You know of Maven Black-Briar?”

His eyes grew round as twin suns. “You can't be serious! The Black-Briar matriarch of the family who brews the best damn mead in all of Skyrim? You're having a go at me, you have to be.”

It was a rare delight to see the disbelief in his pretty features.

“She came all the way to Solitude once. Didn't come to Gileva's herself, but sent someone. Gileva thought I'd be a good pick.”

“And?” Celeon propped himself up by his elbow, eying me eagerly.

“And, she fucked me. The end.”

“Uuughh,” he groaned, tilting his head back in his over-dramatic way. “Details, Eishilde, details! Or would you rather I tell you about my most interesting trysts?”

He quirked a brow, eyes back on me, and I rolled mine in return. I absolutely did not want to hear about his lovemaking. Not that it really mattered to me, but Celeon would over-embellish his tales and probably offer more details than anyone needed.

“She was fond of rope, lots of it, and was just as wicked in bed as I've heard she can be in person. Now that's all you're getting and no, I don't want to hear your own stories.”

With that I rolled back over, unable to handle his gaze any longer. Fortunately he exhaled a chuckle and I felt him shift, laying back again to stare elsewhere.

“Rope, huh? Did you enjoy it?”

“My skin was sore the next day.”

“That doesn't answer my question...”

“It was work, Celeon. I enjoyed the coin I got, that's all. What does it matter anyway?”

“Oh, no reason, just curious...”

We were quiet for a few long moments, and despite it all my thoughts drifted back to that night I'd been bought by the matriarch. I hadn't liked the woman, but she hand't been the worst.

“Maven Black-Briar...” Celeon muttered beside me, exhaling a breathy chuckle; his thoughts clearly in the same place as mine.

“If you start touching yourself in this tent, then I'm kicking you out into the snow.”

He laughed, so loud I nearly kicked him out anyway.

#writeblr #my writing #wip #fanfic #skyrim fanfiction #Dawns in Fire

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 3 months

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Prologue - "The Forgotten Tale of Sky Weaver"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which the Traveler and Paimon come across a mysterious adeptus by the name of Sky Weaver while the two are exploring near the sparsely populated cliffsides of Mt. Mingyuan. Or; In which the long-forgotten tale of the adeptus Sky Weaver is uncovered by Aether from the lips of the various Adepti of Liyue and the people who know them.

The skies of Chenyu Vale had always possessed an almost otherworldly quality to them. Mortals who reside in the Liyue subregion pay it no mind as it has been a natural phenomenon for as long as they can remember.

However, those who have immortal souls and wield adeptal powers know of the true origin behind the ethereal skies in Chenyu Vale.

A tale long forgotten by the mortal world and kept close by those who lived it.

The Forgotten Tale of Sky Weaver.

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

If you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know! #thetaleofskyweaver @itztaki @sassy-cat-in-town @xharisrealm @lupicalbestwolf @pjmsies @just-here-reading @chibiduck @dellalyra @kiiyoooo @heavenlysilence0vx @2nd-number @yourfavoritefreakyhan @mshope16 @paastaboi

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lewis-winters · 8 months

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WIP tag game

thank you for the tags @sir-mr-dr-roe and @heystovepipeboys!

I dug through my WIPs to find a coherent one that didn't have spoilers for the fic itself. But considering how I always write the more exciting parts first, I have failed. Lmao.

Anyway. Here's an excerpt of the Webgott Magical Realism AU.

David Webster is odd. Joe knows this by virtue of having known him for more than a decade, fought with him for the first three years of that, and loved him for the rest.

But he knows it too by the moments where the veneer slips, and something dark, deep, and old peeks beneath. Web doesn’t seem to be aware of it himself, the churning abyss having been a part of him since the very beginning and therefore not uncommon. But to Joe, whose life has never once strayed from the straight and narrow path until that fateful day he chose to jump out of an airplane for 50 extra dollars, the shadow that clings to Web is clear as day.

The first time he saw it, it sat in his periphery. Eight legged and still. Listening, as Web, one warm Austrian night said; “Webster is my mother’s family name.”

People like to assume otherwise, and Web does himself no favors when he rarely corrects them, but that night it pours out of him like water from a broken flask, gushing from the red of his mouth, gaping like a wound with every word he speaks.

Webster, to modern ears, takes a new form. A book of words and meanings, created from a language taken apart and put back together like jigsaw puzzle pieces poured back into its box. No sense as a whole but its pieces complete in their individuality. Always, at the price of their potential for poetry. “That is what boy Websters are like,” David had said. Though some have the potential to become something, carrying within them a small spark that, if properly cultivated amongst the like-minded, could help bring about a decent flame. But those kinds of boy Websters are few and far between, the last having been born centuries ago, and whose gifts had gotten him killed. Most Webster boys are simply broken shards of a whole– special enough to understand how different they are, but too weak to be anything but useless.

It’s the Webster women that are truly different. They’re all that are left of the old name. Ever-changing, like all things are in the face of time, but strong enough to retain their original shape, still. Adaptable. Malleable. Powerful in ways boy Websters could never be. In times of old, Webster had meant spinner. Crafter. A creature with silk in two of her eight hands, a tapestry of deadly traps adorned with beautiful opportunities falling from their lips. Words, endless. Possibilities, even more so.

Anything Webster women say, the earth bends to listen. The trees repeat. The brooks whisper. The sun rejoices. And once finished, the sky opens to weep.

Web didn’t have to continue for Joe to understand, then; the rest of the story unraveled before him as the gravity of Web’s words finally sunk in.

Every child in the world has heard of the existence of these women. Few have been lucky enough to encounter one, but even more so have been unfortunate enough to get caught in the lies they spin, the endless, glistening realities that pour from their mouths. “Beware,” Joe’s mother had once whispered to them in warning. “They are not your enemies, but to be amongst them is dangerous. Their web stretches far beyond their reach and closes around you, invisible, until you are trapped with no means of escape, even after your death.”

Teller of tales, she had called them. Soothsayers, Priestesses of the Mother of Lies—

“Weavers,” David had confirmed, and the tired finality in which he says it cracked something in Joe’s chest he didn’t know was still whole enough to break. “My mother is a weaver.”

tagging: @hellofanidea @ep6bastogne @almost-a-class-act @bobparkhurst @sergeant-spoons and anybody else who wants to do it!

#tag game #webgott #i should finish this at some point #estrella_marie

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