Roxy

[odessa-ody]

John Price x Moth Reader

[Part one] [part two] Part Three

That day Price spends the day in his back yard, mostly fixing the flower bed you kinda trampled over during the night, but he also fixed the camera that goes above his back door. It has been sitting on his kitchen counter for the past month, broken.

If he is going crazy he won't get anything on the camera, but he still should probably get checked out. (He won't)

Anyhow, in the late evening, Price has settled down in his living room after turning the lamps on outside. He lit his cigar, hung his hat up and put something on the TV. It only takes about an hour for the camera to send a notification to his phone.

‘A person is in your back yard.’ Is what the notification read. Price didn't need anymore to be up, he is halfway to the door before the notification is gone from his lock screen. “I knew I wasn't going crazy.”

He chooses to stay inside not to scare you off. He stands next to the window.

You are kneeled where you were last night. Looking at the light, your wings relaxed…and his overgrown flowers trampled, again. Your big eyes are unblinking, locked on to the light.

Price didn't know much about moths, or the supernatural. He heard of myths like Mothman and him being a bad omen. Could you be an omen of some kind?

What kind of Moth?

Atlas

Rosy Maple

Emperor

Lunar

Voting ended onJun 12

Sorry it's been a bit since I posted y'all. Here's another part to this story.

[odessa-ody]

Happy Pride month y'all. Sorry I haven't written anything. I've been busy with other projects.

I'm making a pair of wings. I'm gonna try and write latter on this week maybe

[odessa-ody]

John Price x Moth reader

[Part one] Part two [Part three]

You look up at him and let a single slightly annoyed chirp at being touched. Sure you did kinda jump his fence and step on a flower or two in the flower beds next to the fence, but he has like four lights hanging on his back patio. Sure, he did own the stones you are crouched on, and sure, his hand is somewhat nice in between your antennas. That doesn’t mean anything. Besides, you didn’t think that anyone lived here.

At the annoyed chirp, Price takes his hand off. “I should go to sleep, this has to be a weird lucid dream or something.” He muters, turning around and steps back inside, closing the door. He goes off to bed.

The man left you to be in the back yard and look into the light off the lamps till morning. Before day break you hobble off back into the woods.

It is about seven in the morning when Price steeps back outside, still thinking that last night was a dream or something. He sees that there is a trail of rather big footprints and some of his flowers were smushed. “Bloody hell. That wasn’t a dream?” Price sits on one of the chairs, lossy holding a cup of tea. He sips his tea. You probably won't return till nightfall. He should put up a camera or something to catch a video of you to make sure he hasn't been driven to insanity from being in the military.

****

I know this is short. Sorry about that. Finals :<

P.S. please comment on my works.

[odessa-ody]

Tw: Blood

You lay on a cold metal ground, you don’t know where you are. You stand up, you’re disoriented from whatever happened to end you up here. You stumble, trying to get your legs?” You mutter, bring a hand to your face. You feel someone there, watching you, near. You spin around, lowering your hand, scanning the area for whoever is watching you. You see no one behind you, or to the right of you. “Hello?” You reach out for the wall to steady yourself to, only for the wall to not be there and you stumble forward, your head hits the wall. “What the hell.”You mutter, stepping back, shaking your head trying to get your head right. You turn back around, seeing one hallway, it looks like it goes on forever, the end of the hallway disappearing into the shadows. As far as you can see doors line the walls, one every four feet.

You move your feet, walking down the hall. Something is off here, a feeling of dread fills the air around you. Was that from being watched or the door are wrong? Whatever it was, it settled down heavy on your shoulders, it was hard to walk down the hallway. The deeper you walk down the hallway the more your chest feels like it is caving in on your heart. The doors are filled with eyes, or what you feel are eyes, but nothing there when you look. You move down the hallway, your legs getting heavier the more you walk.

“Why am I here?! Why am I alone?!” Your voice grows more and more frantic. Your hands come up to hug yourself, as you spin around trying to find the eyes that trace you. “I know you are here!” You yell, your voice echoes on the metal cage you stand in. Your feet move more than you can think, you sprint down the endless hallway, you aren’t getting anywhere. It feels like you have been running for hours, your heavy heart betting fast, and your chest is heaving from the effort. The doors are still around you, making your gut tight like you are going to puke. The doors feel like they are towering over you, the dread in the air is heavier when you stop. The eyes are not watching you anymore. You look up at a door, your hand reaches out for the handle of the door like a puppet’s sting being pulled on. Before you can grasp the handle, the door flies open. A flood of thick liquid floods out. You can’t move your legs like you are nailed to the floor. It floods for a few minutes, till it is up past your knees. You step back from the door, bloody hands shanking so much.

Something grabs your right ankle, then your left. You stumble back, falling back into the deep blood. You feel hands grab at every part of you.The blood fflood swellsas something gets closer to the surface. You scream.

[lovesick-joey]

bbq

[odessa-ody]

John Price x moth reader

Part one [Part two] [Part three]

John Price was many things, but a believer of the supernatural he was not. There was simply no proof of monsters or ghouls or anything of the sort. So why should he believe in it? No. As a military captain he only believed in things with cold, hard proof; believing in the boogeyman when he faced actual threats in his day to day was not only stupid, but somewhat insensitive, in a sense.

Now, though, he was beginning to rethink his stance on his beliefs because, after hearing loud noises in his yard and going out to investigate, he found you, a giant, humanoid moth person.

What was just moments ago a lovely, relaxing evening at home, smoking a cigar as he watched something lighthearted on the television, a window cracked open to let in a cool breeze, was now a world shattering, mind boggling revelation.

Blinking a couple of times, he shined his flashlight over you, taking in your alien appearance.

"Bloody hell," Price muttered slowly while looking you over. The man couldn't believe his eyes! Fluffy fur, fluffy wings, antenna, and big ol' eyes that reflected his torchlight– you looked like something a little kid would draw (he completely ignored the *very* masculine urge to pet you, of course). "What the hell are you?”

You don’t say anything at first, just looking at him for a long moment with your big old bug eyes. You let out a small chirp tilting your head before you go back to looking at the lamp you clamber over the fence to look at.

John was speechless, a million and a half questions running through his mind. You couldn’t possible real. “Speaming hell, maybe I need to go to bed, I’m losing my mind.” Me guffs out blinking his eyes. His feet doesn’’t make a move back to his home, he still is gawking at the alien kneeled on his porch. He is reaching a hand out before he knows what is happening. A grizzled hand finds its way into your soft hair between your antennae.

You look from the light to the man who has a hand in your hair.

Should Moth reader talk like a human or chirp

only chirp

talk like human

Voting ended onMay 21

[odessa-ody]

Peace Marriage

770 ish words

The church is gorgeous. The wooden pews draped in a soft purple fabric, and vibrant red roses. The royals speak politely to each other about the union between the kingdom of elves and “that barbarian clan” and how it will be great for the protection of the young elves. They stay clear of the...other side of the wedding hall. When the music starts, the guests rise as the prince dawned in a brown tux that looks good with his pale sink and dirty blonde hair; pulled back in a neat style. He moves elegantly down the aisle to the altar. A soft smile plays at his mouth, as he slightly rocks back and forth on his polished shoes as he waits to see and meet his future wife.  

“She looks good for a barbarian.” One of the elves' whispers to her friend. The barbarian walks down the aisle looking like not what she is. The perfect white dress trails behind her. The embordered bodice with pear blossoms, the mess fabric wraps around her broad shoulders and down her biceps where it is covered by a silk bell sleeve that almost meets the ground. The skirt draped over itself, and a hoop skirt. A veil is over her face and dark hair. The barbarian, Odelia, walks up to the altar. Lifting the front of her skirt to set up the stairs, her white botted heels click against the carpeted stairs.  

Julian, the elven prince, looks up at Odelia’s veiled face, trying to see past the heavy lace covering her face. “That dress suits you, dear.” He whispers as he takes the gloved hands of his son-to-be-wife; the gloves did almost nothing to hide the roughness of her working hands. 

The music stops and the guests sits in the pews, and the soon-to-be husband and wife kneels in front of the priest. The priest began his spill about the marriage. It feels like hours pass before he is done with his spill. The woman can’t look up from where her eyes are stuck on the carpeted ground. She doesn’t belong here, in this church of a god she can’t remember the name of, across from a man she does not know the name of. The blonde man looks far too happy to be marrying someone he doesn’t know the face of, or anything about.  

The priest words fall on empty ears; Julian looks at the woman he does not know that is kneeled across from him. He trusts that his father and mother would set him up with someone nice at least. Even if the marriage is only for the peace and protection of the kingdom and clan, he hopes that he and her will fall in love one day. Julian lips are in a smile, stays strong as the priest speak for the ‘I do’s’ of the pair. 

“Prince Julian, third son of the Arathi family. Do you take Odelia Carla to be your wife?” The priest speaks over the murmurs in the raspy voice of an old man.  

“I do.” Julian speaks without giving it a thought. 

The king of the elves' nods from where he sits in the pews. The priest looks towards the woman who has tilted her hidden face up. “Barbarin of the north, second born to Chief Attila. Do you take his highness as your husband?” 

Odelia speaks with a hidden hesitancy, “I do.” 

The priest looks at her, but says nothing, he brings his hands together. “You may kiss the bride.” Julian lifts his hands from his thighs and grabs onto the hem of the veil. When he lifts it, he blinks. Somewhat shocked, but mostly surprised. 

The bride's face is nothing like he has seen before. Her skin is dark with melanin and work out in the sun. Freckled dot her skin like stars in the night sky. Her eyes the color of storms that Julian never laid witness to, dark grey that pulls him in. Scars that healed unevenly line her jaw and to her hairline. Her hair, brown as rich dirt waves frame her face and head, even pulled back. Even with her lips pained red, the rough torn up surface could still be seen. Odelia looks into the prince’s soft blue eyes. As he slips the gold ring onto her gloved hand, she does the same to him. Julian leans in, pressing his lips onto hers.  

The kiss breaks when the guests clap and stand. The newlywed couple stands and moves down the alley as the crowed toss up rose petals and rice over them

Should I do more of this story?

Yes, I would read it

No, I wouldn't read it

Voting ended onMay 2

[odessa-ody]

Waking up with Poly tf141

The bed is warm if not a little cramped. Under the sheets is a tangle of limbs and the slow song of soft breaths. Hand's idly brushing other's arms and sides. The faces of the scared men finding a place of tranquility for once in their life. The soldiers in the bed exhausted from long tiring missions. None of them wanted to raise from the bed. The morning sun has barely risen over the trees to the east, stray strands of light shin through the broken window shades. The light is not much but it is enough to make Price cover his eyes with a thick forearm with a groan. Price is on the edge of the queen size bed. One of his arms trapped under your form smushed against his big chest. Price takes a few minutes to get used to the light from the morning sun. He moves his arm too look at his overs in the bed.

Ghost is on the far side of the bed, his balaclava pulled off before he passed out for the night. He is slightly curled up, as much as he can be with the Scottish Sargent sprawled out on top of him. A tattooed arm covering his mouth and crooked nose, the othered thrown over Soap's waist. Ghost's shaggy blonde hair messy from Johnny moving so much in his sleep. The scarred face deep with sorrow from years of war, soft for once. Soap laid out on top of Ghost; face hidden in the man's collarbone muttering his Scottish slang as he rests. His slightly overgrown mohawk under the masked man chin. Soap's legs in a tangle with the other sergeant's leg, handheld by you with a loose hold. Soap's chest rise and fall, voice muggy from getting sleep after a long time.

Gaz's cap hanging on the bed post with Price's bucket hat. He lays on his side; strong arms wrapped around you. He sleeps without nightmares for once. His chest is pressed against your back rising and falling with a smooth rhythm.

[odessa-ody]

*Talking sweetly to my old sewing machine* Come on baby, work for me. Stop getting stuck when I use you, baby.

*Sewing Machine gets stuck*

You peace of shit

[odessa-ody]

Item: The Memory Squeegee Rarity: ⏶ Common

What game would you erase from your memory just to experience it for the first time again?

Feed your dashboard by answering my question, blogger.

I think I would do Minecraft or Assassin Creed

[odessa-ody]

What do you do in your free time, Ody? I make prop weapons. Here's a battle axe I'm working on. It's four pounds, and almost as tall as I am. I still need to paint it, sand the stick and repaint it, and add details

[odessa-ody]

Recently the ship got a Grizzl. Got is a strong word, the grizzl is a stole away. The human has seem to imprint on the small creatures, and now they carry the Grizzl around saying 'oh you're so cute' and 'my little space racoon' in this high soft voice. The Grizzl has made a nest in their room. We can not get it out of the ship now.

[odessa-ody]

The human I work with spent like two hours yesterday following a Zyran around the ship. I think they were rambling about some holiday for couples back on the human's homeworld.

[odessa-ody]

Does anyone else human get cold easily?

I believed that humans were warm blooded, but the human I work with is always saying they are cold, and they need to get a thicker pair of overalls. Is there something wrong with the ship's human or are all humans like this?