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#and isn’t that the strangest thing
rose-tinted-nostalgia · 10 months
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brookheimer · 11 months
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didn’t expect the anne carson post to get notes but now that it has i myself am the recipient of bad takes. horrible
#also 75% of the people reblogging it atp do not seem to understand my frustration w the comments#like i didn’t post this to be like look how ableist twt users are in denying the lived experience of depression for other ppl#i mean sure but that was not the point of the post#it’s about an inability to read poetry and a newfound insistence on everything including art having a Take i#it’s about a fundamental disconnect with literature and works in general that are not written for you specifically#relatability politics infiltrating literary discourse#like their criticism of the poem is the strangest i’ve ever seen bc it has nothing to do with the poem. people do not know how to read#anymore#they treat everything like it’s a tweet they either need to publicly agree with or publicly mock#but yeah like my point was not Look How Dismissive They Are Of Neurodivergent Experiences#it was Jesus Fucking Christ The Education System Is Failing Us And Critical Literacy Is At An All Time Low#i mean this isn’t supposed to be about depression. it’s about life and living it#and honestly people defending it from the depression/neurodivergenxe angle is just the flip side of the twitter hate — you like it because#you view it as representative of your specific lived experience and would likely not like it if it didn’t#it’s being wrapped up into identity politics#and that was sooooo not the point of the post like i am criticizing the relatability/identity politics mode of reading#it’s made us unable to look at things on their own terms let alone thru a legitimate critical lens!#i mean ofc you can like stuff bc it resonates w you i’m not criticizing That. but saying that that’s what gives a work of art value or#determines whether or not it’s ‘good’ is ridiculous and narcissistic and rooted in the tiktok brain fungus discouraging all nuance ever#sorry sorry i’ll shut up now
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candycryptids · 1 month
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I think I said a few days ago or last night or s/t that I was almost done writing and it was already feeling kinda long and daunting but my husbands right and I’ve definitely written this with obvious places that beg to be expanded upon so :) (internal weeping)
When the sea consumes me heart and soul know this was originally supposed to be like. A thousand words.
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goldensunset · 3 months
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on tumblr you can type an entire vent post that’s clearly very personal to your experiences and isn’t supposed to be a universal proclamation and some account you have quite genuinely never seen before in your life will assume that by posting it you are making a submission to r/aita to be judged by the world and will inform you that they think you are in the wrong for the way you feel
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serenwanders · 1 year
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Preview of my yet untitled post 1994 movie fic that answers a question I spent way too much time thinking about. “How would Armand and Daniel come together in this universe and what exactly happened to Daniel after Lestat bit him and stole his car?” This is what I do with my free time.
The last notes of Sympathy for the Devil faded and Lestat switched off the radio. The harsh click made Daniel jump but a slender hand gently pushed his head back down.
“Shhh now, you must rest.” The silky smooth voice was deceptively soothing, a contrast from the sharp nails combing through his hair. Fear battled sleepiness as sweat and blood dripped from his neck onto the sticky car seat. Daniel was pretty sure the sleepiness was blood loss, how much blood had he lost anyways?
Daniel felt the cold hand against his forehead and he flinched away. “Don’t worry sweet boy.” The captivating voice crooned. “You have plenty of blood left. All I had was a small taste.” Daniel opened his eyes just enough to see Lestat smiling reassuringly at him. “I won’t drink the rest until it’s time to lure Louis.”
Despite his shallow breathing Daniel felt himself tense as panic swept over him in waves of rapidly accelerating terror. He made a futile attempt to reach for the cold handle of the car door. He had to get away, he wasn’t ready to die, there was so much he wanted to do. His heart began to race, how many beats did it have left?
Before he could even fully grasp the handle he felt sharp nails dig into the wound on his neck. He whimpered and dropped back to the seat turning to watch Lestat lick the blood from his fingers.
“Don’t be impolite Daniel.” Lestat said with the voice of one explaining something to a disobedient child. “I didn’t say I was going to kill you.”
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catzgam3rz · 1 year
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My neighbours dog just ate my fucking airpod????
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your cat roommate has been given speech
That is… great???
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shmorp-mcdurgen · 1 year
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Why am I not surprised that it's this Tumblr blog that has a case of a mysterious unknown angst writer by the alias of Murder Anon
It does seem like something that would happen on this blog
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luveline · 29 days
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Hey my lovely, could i equest a blurb where reader seeks one of spencer's hugs and he's all soft and mushy about it!! I just think he'd give really warm hugs and want one so bad!
shy!reader + post!prison Spencer have a hug
Spencer understands why you might find him intimidating. He did go to prison for a few weeks, and even if the idea of his being a potential felon didn’t scare you, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous around the unknown. You’ve had a few more weeks to get to know the others on the team. He tries not to take it personally that you’re closer with some of them than you are him. 
Plus, you’re awfully shy. 
Spencer’s been trying to communicate that he’s an idiot. He was shy, once, and he tends to be shy about things now, too, even if he’s taken to hiding that. He hides a lot, these days. 
But things aren’t hopeless with you. You’re inarguably his best work friend now that Morgan’s not around, taking the desk next to his —through coincidence or insistence, he has no idea. 
“What flavour do you have today?” he asks. 
You show him your bag. The convenience store outside of work has the strangest sweets from all sorts of places. You’ve been bringing in a different bag each day, and you always share. “Today is apricot and peach ‘millions’,” you tell him, shaking the bright pink bag like a rattle. 
Inside, the millions bounce against each other like miniscule polystyrene balls but with a heavier weight. 
“Awesome!” he says, holding out his hand. “Please?” 
You rip the corner and tip a generous helping of candies into his palm, doing the same in your own hand. “Ready?” you ask. 
“Three, two, one.” 
You both tip your heads back at the same time. Apricot and peach are similar flavours, and Spencer can’t tell the difference when they’re both in play. He can also taste apple juice and the sharp citric acid flavour they put in every candy. 
He can’t tell if you like them. He quite enjoys it, will happily eat the leftovers if you’re not interested, but your attention isn’t on the candy when he looks up. You’re staring straight at him. 
“What?” he asks, perturbed. 
“Nothing, just. Had a rough morning. Thanks for trying the candy with me.” 
He frowns. “I’m sorry. Let me know if there’s something I can do to make you feel better. I can make you a cup of hot chocolate?” 
“Don’t worry about it.” 
Spencer’s sure that to an outsider, he and the team appear to travel to a hundred cities a month. In reality, cases aren’t as densely packed, especially with the government expanding their profiling teams, and the majority of Spencer’s day is spent answering emails and giving advice to agents, law enforcement, and his colleagues. He doesn’t see much of you (where you’re forced to work ViCAP calibration as newbies usually are, almost like a hazing) but he does take you that hot chocolate around lunch time. Just to make sure you have the option. 
It’s sometime past four PM when you appear again. 
“Hey,” he says, turning to you where you’re paused behind your desk chair, “you're finally done?” 
“Not yet. So many case files to transcribe, opinions to cross check, signatures and…” You wince. “It’s a lot. You already know.” 
“I don’t, actually. I only ever had to do ViCAP as punishment, and I was extremely well-behaved. For a while, anyway.” 
You hesitate with something heavy on the tip of your tongue. You’re like every profiler wherein your tells are self-identified and quelled, but you’re still so new, and Spencer’s an expert. You want to ask him for something, but you don’t think you’re allowed. If he presses the issue you’ll shut down, and if he offers you another cup of hot chocolate you’ll simply drink it without letting him in on the real secret. 
Spencer waits. 
“Spencer, you don’t have to say yes, just… You’re the nicest friend I have, and you always know what I need to hear. Um, I know you don’t like touching people and I wouldn’t ask you to if you don’t want to, but it’s been a really long time since someone hugged me, and…” Your voice gets quieter and quieter, until you’re whispering, and then fizzling out. 
“You want a hug?” he asks, surprised. 
“If that’s okay.” 
“I give really good hugs,” he warns, climbing from his chair immediately, arms opened, an unmissable invitation. “You’ll never get over it.” 
“Really?” 
He can’t believe you came to him specifically for a hug. He’s gonna lose his mind. Gentle, Spencer ushers you into his arms, head quick to duck down, his thumb on your shoulder. 
You could’ve asked anybody in the office for a hug. Penelope would have hugged your brains out. Emily, Unit Chief and secret sweetheart, would’ve taken you off of ViCAP and given you a loving pat on the back. But you didn’t ask Penelope or Emily, you asked him. 
“You don’t have to ask me first,” he says quietly. 
“You don’t like touching.” 
“That’s more to do with germs, and I’m not worried about yours,” he says. “Unless you’re about to tell me you have a headache.” 
“It’s like this pounding behind my eyes,” you say with a laugh. 
Spencer smiles, his mouth and nose to the side of your head. He gives you a good ten seconds of quiet, his palm warming your shoulder, before he murmurs, “Any better?” 
“You’re really warm,” you murmur back. 
Spencer resists the urge to squeeze you. “It's the oxytocin.”
“Or you’re just really, really warm.”
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mooshywrites · 2 months
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May I request a short fic of Halsin and Tav discussing their kinks with Halsin admitting to having a breeding kink? Thanks, love :*!
Rutting Season
Fem!Reader x Halsin
Masterlist
Art commissions
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A/N~ ofc bb I’d love to <3
Word Count ~ 3.5K
Warnings ~ NSFW, MDNI, smut, breeding kink, slight size difference, established relationship, vaginal sex, fingering, creampie, outdoor sex
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“Do not tease me with such things my heart.”
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“I think you already know everything about me, my heart,” said with an exasperated smile.
You snorted and rolled your eyes, maneuvering to sit up on your elbows.
The sun washed across your back like a warm blanket, the grass rustling next to your picnic blanket in a comforting sort of song. It was a beautiful day today, one you were happy to spend with your Druid.
Even if he was refusing to be an interesting conversationalist.
“There has to be something about you that you haven’t told me,” you complained, giving Halsin a pleading stare.
“I’m quite sure there isn’t. I’ve told you everything. Even down to my favorite jam,” he chided.
You twisted to lay on your back, shutting your eyes against the glare of the day. Birds chirped in the distance, momentarily distracting you from your annoyance. A gentle breeze cooled you as you thought, wracking your brain for anything else you hadn’t asked Halsin.
An idea finally hit you, one eye popping open with a mischievous glint.
“Well, have you ever been in love, Halsin?” You inquired with a cheeky smile.
Halsin furrowed his eyebrows as if you had just asked the strangest thing one could utter.
“Aren’t I in love with you, little duck?” He prodded, ignoring your flurry of giggles.
“I suppose you’re right. Let’s see,” you shot back, settling in under his affectionate gaze.
He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead, chuckling along at your playful mood.
“I don’t think you could think of something you haven’t already asked me if you tried,” Halsin challenged, his voice soft against you.
With a halfhearted glare, you could feel the competitiveness start to rise in your bones. Was it a series conversation? No, absolutely not. The two of you had long since run out of questions for each other in this little game that you played. But for him to have the gall, the absolute nerve to challenge you?
Absolutely not.
There had to be something you didn’t know about the man.
“I know,” you started slowly, your smile already growing wide across your face. “What’s something unusual you like to do in bed?”
“Sometimes, if I’m especially tired, I’ll bring dinner to bed,” Halsin responded nonchalantly. “That wasn’t that impressive of a question, my heart.”
You stared up at him, your eyes wide. Surely, there was no way in hell he mistook your meaning.
Halsin just stared back, confusion etching across his features as he tried to understand what was wrong.
Finally, his cheeks flushed brilliantly, realization finally dawning on him.
“Oh you meant, as in,” he stuttered. “As lovers.”
You burst into a fit of laughter at Halsin's flustered realization, his embarrassment only serving to fuel your amusement. His cheeks remained flushed as he struggled to find the right words to explain himself, his typically composed demeanor crumbling under your relentless teasing.
After a moment of reveling in his discomfort, you finally composed yourself enough to speak.
“Oh Halsin, you truly are a light unlike any other,” you managed to say between giggles. "But I must admit, bringing dinner to bed is rather endearing in its own way."
Halsin let out a sheepish chuckle, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to regain some semblance of composure. “I suppose it's not quite what you were asking for,” he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes now that he had recovered from his initial embarrassment.
Your laughter gradually subsided, leaving behind a warm fondness as you gazed up at him. The sunlight danced across his features, highlighting the faded scars on his face.
“Is that still a question you want an answer to?” Halsin murmured, his gaze flitting away.
You shrugged, trying not to let the blush that was creeping into your face betray the nervousness you suddenly felt.
“I suppose so.”
Halsin sighed as if he was coming to terms with what he was about to say.
“I have a thing about breeding,” He said simply.
“A what?“ you snorted. “Is that not just regular ol’ sex?”
Halsin went quiet for a moment causing you to peek up at him, worried you might have offended him by laughing. He held your gaze, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“It’s a little more than that,” he murmured. “It’s the idea of filling you with my seed. Watching you swell with my children.”
You felt your cheeks grow hot, unable to speak with how blunt Halsin was being. Or the way his jaw ever so slightly strained when he admitted his leanings.
A mischievous glimmer danced in Halsin’s eyes as he watched the array of emotions crossing your face. The vulnerability in his confession was a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. You felt a rush of heat spreading through you, a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite place. His words hung heavy in the air between you, stirring something deep within your chest.
A feeling that was quickly settling just below your stomach.
The silence stretched on, charged with words you didn’t quite know how to say. Finally, you found your voice, the words tumbling out almost without conscious thought.
“I’ve never… I’ve never done anything like that before,” you confessed.
Halsin’s smile softened, a tenderness in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat. “It’s alright,” he murmured, reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “We don’t have to rush into anything you’re not comfortable with. I was just answering your question after all.”
You leaned into his hands, letting your eyes flutter shut. You weren’t quite sure you could handle the expression on his face with what you were about to say next.
“What if,” you whispered, your voice airy with the breathlessness the how conversation had rendered you . “What if it was something I wanted to try?”
You heard Halsin’s breath hitch slightly at your words and you couldn’t help but crack open an eye.
His own eyes were wide with surprise, searching your own for any sign of your usual joking manner. The air around you crackled with newfound anticipation.
His hand trembled slightly as he cupped your cheek, his touch gentle as if he were trying to hold something back.
“Do not tease me with such things, my heart,” Halsin whispered lowly.
“Who said I was teasing?” You retorted, your voice barely audible.
Halsin’s expression shifted, a blend of desire and uncertainty flickering across his features. His thumb traced along your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
“You’re sure?”
You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense stare. The air between you seemed to be laden with electricity, tension waiting to be snapped.
Without another word, Halsin closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet urgent kiss. It was if a dam had been unleashed, a flood of desire pouring into your touch. Your hands instinctively found their way to his back, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.
Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself into the kiss, your mind becoming less coherent the more you thought of his words.
’Filling you with my seed.’
You pulled back for a moment, breathless from the kiss.
“Is that something you want? To have children with me? Right now?” you questioned.
It was something the two of you had talked about before, but not at length. More of the casual discussions of the future and not set in stone plans.
A growl reverberated deep in Halsin’s chest, rumbling against you. “I would want nothing more, my heart.”
The intensity of his promise hung in the air, mingling with the lingering taste of his kiss on your lips. Your heart raced with a heady mix of lust and hesitance as you searched his eyes for any hint of doubt. But all you found was unwavering conviction, like it was something he had long since decided.
It didn’t take more than a split second for your conviction to match his own, your lips meeting his for another searing kiss.
Passion ignited between the two of you, the sound of the field drowning out in favor of the sound of Halsin’s breathing becoming heavier.
You couldn’t help the way your hips shifted against him, already seeking relief from the desire beginning to pool in your core. Halsin groaned in response, the sound cutting straight through your chest.
It suddenly felt like there was far too many layers between the two of you, your fingertips clawing at the hem of his shirt. You wanted nothing more than to feel his heated skin against your own, feel his calloused touch against you.
“Please,” you whimpered, your voice already tinged with a neediness that otherwise would have had you embarrassed.
But his confession, the thought of following through with his desires…
You needed him now.
Halsin’s eyes flared with lust at your shameless ask, his gaze never leaving yours.
“Demanding, aren’t we, little duck?” He whispered, his voice a shade darker than it was moments ago.
You could only manage a weak glare back, tugging expectantly on the edge of his clothes once more.
Halsin smiled back as he reached for the ties on his shirt, his movements slow and teasing. He undid each knot with calculated precision, revealing hints of his tanned chest beneath the fabric.
Your gaze locked with his as he slowly peeled the shirt off his chest, exposing the tawny brown hair that dusted his skin. You couldn’t help but trace the lines of his muscles with your eyes, taking in the hard lines of his abdomen.
“You really want this, my heart?” Halsin murmured, his voice a low, heated rumble.
You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him bare before you. The desire to touch him washed over you, all consuming.
Your fingertips found their way to his skin, tracing featherlight over scars and muscles. Halsin stayed perfectly still, watching you as you admired him. You put more pressure into your touch, your nails scraping ever so lightly against him.
His gaze darkened before fluttering shut, his breaths growing heavier as your hand continued to explore. He let out a low groan, his own hands finding yours and guiding them down to the waistband of his breeches.
You smirked, taking your time ignoring the growing bulge before you. Halsin may have been the one in charge through and through, but you quite enjoyed torturing him every once in a while. Idly, you traced the outline of the Druid’s length, refusing to acknowledge his annoyed growl.
Slowly, you cupped your hand around him, looking up to give him an innocent smile. As you gave a gentle squeeze, you couldn’t help but flit your eyes back to the hard member.
Was he bigger than normal?
You looked back up at Halsin, your eyes locked onto his as you began to stroke him gently, keeping your movements slow.
“You’re very hard,” you teased, watching the way his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.
“Careful.” He whispered, his voice a low growl. You couldn’t help but feel yourself growing more aroused at the tension in his tone. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Am I?” You asked, sliding your hand up and down his length, reveling in his growing impatience.
He was right, you were playing with fire. But it was a delicious, exhilarating fire that you couldn’t seem to resist. The need to watch him become undone. The need to see how much his admission really affected your time together.
With a final squeeze, you sat back. Your gaze met Halsin’s eyes with a smirk, seeing nothing but flaming desire mirrored back at you.
Gods above, he really seemed to want this.
You slowly pushed the sleeves of your dress down, letting the ties fall free as it fell to your waist. You sat for a moment, bare before him and feeling your body tremble with anticipation.
Halsin’s eyes raked over your body and he swallowed hard, clearly taking in every inch of you.
“Oak Father, preserve me, you’re more and more beautiful every time,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.
You blushed slightly at his compliment, feeling a wave of shyness wash over you. Your hands came up to cover your chest and the soft curve of your stomach, your gaze dropping.
Halsin reached out, gently pulling your arms to the side. You heard him move forward before your breath caught in your chest, taken aback by the feeling of his lips brushing against your collarbone.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered again, planting another kiss an inch lower.
His touch was slow, tender, and filled with reverence. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, feel the composure he was truing to keep as his lips wandered across your chest. A shiver ran down your spine as his mouth continued its journey.
When he finally made it to the soft swell of your breast, he couldn’t seem to help nipping at the skin slightly. The feeling of his teeth against your skin caused a moan to tumble from your parted lips, unable to hide your growing desperation.
Halsin looked up at you, his eyes dark with hunger and anticipation. You could see the intensity in his gaze, the way that tiniest of sounds was pushing him further to a breaking point.
You arched your back, pressing your chest closer to the Druid’s mouth. He gave you a wry chuckle, finally taking your nipple between his lips in a gentle kiss.
His tongue flicked against the sensitive skin, sending a delicious shockwave through your body. You groaned, your hands falling to his hair, pulling him closer. Halsin hummed in response, his own eyes fluttering shut as he continued.
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the feeling of his lips against you making it difficult to sit still.
You couldn’t help but moan, leaning back against the blanket with the Druid quickly following. His arms caged you under him, his torso settling between your legs as he switched his attention to your other breast. He was lost in the task, nipping and kissing like it was the last time he’d ever witness you.
Halsin’s hand glided up your side, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His fingers danced across your waist, finally tugging your dress the rest of the way down your legs.
You kicked them off easily, gasping as the cold air hit you. Halsin’s body quickly returned against you, masking the cold air with his feverishly hot skin. The fabric of his pants scratched against your thigh, earning another moan from you.
Your hips bucked forward, seeking more of that friction. Halsin groaned, moving forward to rest his forehead against your own. His expression was almost pained as his hand pinned your hips, like he was trying desperately to hold onto a thread of sanity.
“Please,” you begged yet again, your voice shaking with desperation.
Halsin inhaled deeply, his jaw tightening again. He finally opened his eyes, looking into yours with a searing look of lust.
“I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted you like this.” he admitted, his voice rough. “But I can’t deny that I fear losing control.”
You smiled softly, warmed by his concerned. “I trust you, Halsin. I know you’d never hurt me.”
He hesitated for a moment longer, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But then he leaned down, his lips brushing softly against yours. The hand that pinned your lip let go, moving to undo the ties of Halsin’s pants.
In your lust clouded state, you didn’t even recognize the movements. That is, until Halsin’s hips shifted against you, his hardened cock slipping against your folds.
You gasped at the sensation, your breath hitching in your throat. You always had to adjust to him in the beginning, his impressive length being a lot for anyone to handle.
But impossibly, he seemed to be even more to handle today.
Halsin froze for a moment, his eyes searching your face knowingly. But then he leaned down again, his lips claiming yours in a deep affectionate kiss. His hand slid between your legs, his fingers brushing against the sensitive bud of nerves. Your hips bucked upwards, seeking more contact.
“Let me do this for you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice comforting. “Let me help you adjust, my heart.”
You nodded, too shot with lust to say anything coherent. Halsin pressed two fingers against your entrance, running teasing figure eights around where you most wanted him. Your hips shifted helplessly, trying to catch his calloused touch. Finally, they slid against your entrance slowly before sliding inside.
Your muscles clenched around him, earning a groan from the Druid. You whined in response, the little sound from his lips going straight to your cunt.
Halsin slid his fingers in and out of you slowly, gently stretching and preparing you for what was to come. Your hips strained against his hand, the friction leaving you panting and desperate for more.
You arched your back once more, wanting to feel more of him against you. Halsin’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression dark and intense. He moved his fingers faster, teasing the your sensitive nub with his thumb.
“Halsin,” you whimpered, your voice strained with need. “Please… I need you.”
The Druid, still looking deeply into your eyes, shifted his body and pushed his hips forward, the tip of his cock barely pressed your entrance. You whimpered breathlessly, looking up at your lover.
Halsin stayed still, looking into your eyes for some sort of confirmation. You let out an annoyed growl. You should’ve been happy he was being so courteous, but mostly, you just wanted him drilling you into the ground this instant.
`“For gods’ sake, Halsin,” you whined. “Breed me!”
Halsin’s entire demeanor changed as you watched his resolve snap suddenly, a growl ripping through his chest as he plunged forward, impaling you fully in one swift motion.
You cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, the subtle sting of his girth mixing deliciously with your lust. He gave you no time to adjust as he began to move inside you, his gaze firmly stuck on yours.
“Silvanus above, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips firmly thrusting into in a rhythm that had your thoughts clouded and hips jerking up to meet every thrust.
“Halsin,” you moaned helplessly, your hands gripping his upper arms.
Halsin complied with your wordless begs, his movements becoming more frantic, his fingers digging into your hips as he surged into you. His breath was ragged, low grunts escaping him as he continued to take you.
“I’m going to fill you, my heart,” He promised lowly, “Fill you with my seed.”
The weight of his words sent heat straight to your core, your entire being shifting as Halsin’s promise of breeding you sparked red hot desire. You felt yourself clench tighter around Halsin’s length, your nails digging into his arms.
Your legs wrapped around Halsin’s hips, locking him and trying desperately to pull him deeper into you.
His name was a plaintive wail on your tongue, your voice rising and falling with each thrust, each grunt, each cry echoing through the clearing. Your hips shook wildly against him, each movement in a desperate attempt to cling to him.
Halsin’s movements began to stutter, your own coil of desire tightening beyond belief in your stomach. You knew he was close, his breaths sharp and quick against your neck, and you felt your own body react in tandem.
“Fill me, Halsin.” You moaned in a stutter. “Breed me.”
Your walls tightened around him, beckoning him to fulfill his promise, to breed you and give you what you both so desperately craved. Your nails reached up to dig into the Druid’s back, leaving scratches that would heal with time. You felt his body tense, a feral growl reverberating in him.
Then, with a final shuddering thrust, Halsin filled you completely. His seed spilled deep within, coating your insides with his warm essence. Your walls tightened around him, milking ever last drop. He collapsed against you, his breath ragged and his heart pounding against yours.
You lay there for a moment, your bodies locked together, both utterly sated and completely spent. Halsin’s fingers brushed the hair from your forehead, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes.
“How I love you, my heart,” Halsin whispered, his voice tender with emotion.
You sighed closing your eyes as you basked in the afterglow, feeling him still inside of you. “I love you too.”
As his breathing began to slow, you both lay there, entwined in each other’s arms. The sun filtered through pillowy clouds, warming your bare skin in a warm kiss.
Halsin’s voice cut through the moment of tranquility, his voice lighter and teasing.
“I suppose it’s my turn to ask a question, then, little duck?”
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 6 months
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Zombie!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
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Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Zombie!Ghost, Reader
Summary: Being on the run from the undead doesn't leave much time for more intimate things, but once things start to settle a little an ache begins to form that you havent felt in a long time. What will you do when the only other person you are with is your former lover turned zombie.
Word Count: 4.8 k
Warnings:
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Author's Note: here it is as requested. I hope I did it justice. Happy Halloween 🎃
You’d been on the run for months now, never stopping as hordes of the undead nipped away at any temporary calm would you seek to have. It wasn’t easy always having to look over your shoulder, wondering when you were going to get ambushed again or if you’d get overrun and you’d have to make your final stand in a blaze of glory. Something like that isn’t supposed to become normal, but after over a year of living in hell you kind of get used to it… Kind of.
That first month was the hardest since you had been completely on your own because in the chaos and confusion of that first wave as the everything fell apart, including the 141 you were stationed with, you’d gotten separated from everyone. Hiding in the sewers, scavenging for food like some kind of rat, it was torture. But then you came across someone you thought you’d never see again: Ghost.
He was holed up alone in an abandoned farmhouse back in the thick of the woods a town over from the base. What should have been a reunion with someone you knew was thrown off by the fact that he had in fact been turned into one of the undead. Out of everyone that you could have run into, why him? You two had history, the kind where intimate details were something that you shared, and now you were both thrust together once again only this time there were bigger things at stake other than if you’d get caught fooling around by the captain.
The strange thing was that even though Ghost had been fully transformed by the infection, it was not what you expected. You realized quickly that Ghost had kept most of his humanity, though the more finer details of his person were scrambled by the disease. Even though he could not speak anymore due to the fact that his jaw was broken, Ghost was still inside there. And the strangest part of it all was that he remembered you.
It wasn’t like anything you had seen from the horde of mindless undead and so instead of facing the unknown alone again, you decided to stick with him. For over a year you two stayed side by side and although you did not come across any others of the task force, it was enough to just have one another.
Honestly he wasn’t a terrible companion, though a bit of conversation would have been nice. Still, having him with you had its perks. Being one amongst the walking corpses had great benefits and Ghost used them to their full capability to keep you safe so that after a time, even though the world still sat in ruin, you two were not doing too bad. At least you were able to stay in place for more than a day now.
That’s where you found yourself, shacked up in a two story cottage you had found almost untouched and secluded in the middle of the woods. It was easy enough to make secure, as secure as you could having limited supplies, but apart from a few stray corpses stumbling by there wasn’t much action. That anxiety riddled tension that you had held in your chest for over a year began to ease and with that came old stirrings that you hadn’t felt since before the world collapsed.
An old familiar ache brought on by being near someone who you used to share such things with, the one that leaves you begging to be quenched, wormed its way back into your life and now that you had more time on your hands it was becoming a major problem.
You see, adrenalin has a funny way of fucking with your head: heightening your senses, making your pulse race, everything feels so much more intense. You were only human, one who still had needs which had not been met in so fucking long that you couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be touched by another and so having your blood always rushing and your skin tingling, how could you stop yourself from giving in to that most basic of temptations?
It was a shame that Ghost wasn’t an option now; you would liked to have him one more time as the world burned, but there was no way no… right?
So, instead, one evening after the perimeter had been secured and the doors re-bolted, the windows rechecked and the traps restrung, that ache reached its peak and you had to do something before it got in the way of staying safe. Sneaking off to the bedroom you had claimed for yourself upstairs, you allowed that overwhelming need to finally overtake you.
Leaving the door slightly ajar so that you could still be alert to any stray sounds, you laid down on the cushioned surface of the mattress, your pulse racing rapidly in your chest at the prospect of doing this. You made quick work of your jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper only enough so that you could access that throbbing between your thighs. Clamping your mouth shut in an effort to keep quiet you slid your hand down the front of your pants, down all the way until you reached your sex. 
A whimper filled your mouth that you choked back down; the last thing you needed was to alert a horde with your desperate cries as you worked yourself. It may have been a while, but you knew exactly what to do and extending your middle finger you split yourself open to find your clit, another whimper rising in your throat as you made the connection and began to draw tight circles around the bundle of nerves.
It was hard not to get worked up so fast as that remembered pleasure filled your mind and snaked its way through your limbs to make your body vibrate and as you stroked that pulsing bean you were brought back to those times when you and Ghost used to get lost in that ecstasy together. You couldn’t be blamed for where your mind wandered, not when you had to be near the one person who knew how to draw your pleasure from you, even if he couldn’t do it anymore.   
Before you knew it, you had flipped yourself onto your stomach and then onto knees to ride your fingers, hips grinding away as you imagined him underneath you. Fuck, the way he used to look staring back up at you with those hungry copper eyes, hands greedily clinging around the meat of your hips as he shoved you down harder onto his cock before he would inevitably flip you onto your back to pound into you; it was enough to make you salivate with need, but still you tried to keep quiet.
You thought yourself sneaky, keeping things to a minimum as you desperately drew out your release, but Ghost was not the same man he was when he was alive. His senses were different now, enhanced like a wild animal’s by the infection that took his life and made him into something entirely new. As he stood in the living room, staring blankly out the window to watch for any signs of undead, something caught his attention.
The scent of pheromones were on the air, enticing him forward to the upstairs. He followed it all the way to the back bedroom, your room. Slowly, silently, creeping towards the door, Ghost peered unblinking through the slit to watch you up on your knees on top of your bed, your pants hanging slack around your hips while your ass point upward towards the door. That motion, he knew it; that back and forth sway of your hips over top of your bed. 
There was another fragrance on the air now, something more familiar. Taking a deep breath, his heightened sense of smell caught the scent of your natural lubrication currently soaking your fingers and it awoke something deep within him like a fire in chest akin to what an animal feels when it goes into heat. His slack mouth began to unconsciously salivate as ingrained memories surfaced, flashes of remembered sensations from times when he too enjoyed such pleasures. Inherent, primal, a reaction as innate as breathing.  
It was then that he became acutely aware of a tightness growing down below and instinctually he cupped his hand around it, rubbing the growing bulge against his chilly palm. Was he actually getting hard? That was surprising as anyone would have expected that to not happen anymore; he had retained much of his humanity, but he had not had the time until now to explore all the facets of what that entailed.
The more he rubbed the more it grew until the front of his pants tented out near the zipper, straining so hard against the fabric that he had to wonder if he could pop the closure without even trying. God, it felt…amazing.
“Fuck, Simon,” he caught the whispered hiss through the silence as you pressed your body down harder onto the bed, onto your fingers, and it sent a shiver up his spine. The way you said that name he hadn’t heard in so long, in that desperate way almost as a plea to your lust to fulfill its unspoken promise and wash that euphoric feeling over you, caused memories to violently resurface. He had heard that before in just that exact way- from you.
Scattered and disjointed memories of you beneath him burst into his minds eye, brought back to life by the sound of your voice: you writhing with eyes closed, your skin glistening with perspiration in the pale light of a dimly lit room, bare breasts bouncing up and down with each of his strong thrusts, crying his name into the silence as you came.
If breathing was something he was still required to do those lungs would be heaving by now to bring in enough air as he was so worked up that he would surely be panting. His hand gripped tighter now around the head of his cock, stroking with more purpose now as his dilated pupils followed the curve of your back all the down to your ass to watch it bob up and down.
The pace of his hand quickened to match your rocking as if fucking you by proxy, stroking through his clothes while transfixed on you. Goddamn he wished he could remember the way you felt wrapped around him, but that sensation had been lost when he succumbed to the disease. All he could do was watch and enjoy the way your body looked while your movements became more sloppy as the warmth gathered in the pit of your stomach, that delicious heat that you had not felt in so long.
“Yes, yes,” you mewled under your breath while your thighs clenched around your hand as you were so close. You brought in another finger to join the first one and with both you slipped them inside your entrance; it was nothing like the way Ghost could fill you out, but it would have to do.
Bearing down hard while you kept the pace steady, your breathing more erratic, you finally reached the peak and spilled violently over the edge, tumbling down as your body writhed and jerked through the overwhelming intensity of that first orgasm. You stifled your cries as much as you could inside your mouth, but they still reached an unknown listener who nearly came himself if he had not had to move quick before being spotted.
…and that left him very frustrated…   
You fell onto the mattress, removing your fingers from your pussy as you breathed out a sigh of contented relief. It hadn’t been clear just how much you needed that until you came and fuck did you feel on cloud nine now. As you rolled over onto your stomach to stare up at the ceiling while you rode out the wave of your euphoric high, you swore you heard a series of strange movement just outside your door; a soft few taps that sounded like they were getting farther away which would have been out of place, but the house you were currently boarded up in was old and so you convinced yourself it was nothing.
Besides, if anything was truly wrong, Ghost would have already alerted you by now. 
It was several minutes you just laid there in the silence before you took one last deep breath to calm yourself as you got up to straighten your clothing and re-buttoned your pants, hoping that your self-pleasuring session had gone completely unnoticed to your companion as you headed back down stairs to double check that everything was still secure.
In his usual spot you found him standing, always watching with that unblinking gaze, but as you stepped into the living room his sight was immediately drawn to you. “Hey,” you greeted him, “everything still okay out there?”
The usual grunted reply was returned and you stepped over to where he stood, just to take a look for yourself. It didn’t hurt to have another set of eyes to catch things and you felt more comfortable checking for yourself anyway. Scanning the area outside you saw nothing out of place, but as you pulled back from the window you were met with those cold eyes directly staring at you.
Silently Ghost’s large hand came up to touch your cheek, rubbing his thumb across a certain flush pooling there that drew his curiosity and he grunted with a nod of his head at it. You diverted your gaze, suddenly self-conscious about how warm they were still, like a fucking beacon calling attention to what it was you were doing upstairs; not that you cared, but shit you didn’t need your business plastered all over your face like that.
“It’s nothing,” you reassured him with a chuckle. “Just got a bit warm I guess. I promise I’m not infected or anything like that.”
Fully expecting him to take you at your word you went to move over to the sofa, but his hand clung to the side of your face to keep you in your place. You tilted your head as he shook his own side to side slowly. 
“What? Don’t believe me?” you picked, slightly concerned about this strange development; he had not acted in such a way before and you did not know if it was a part of the infection or not. 
Again he shook his head before his eyeline lowered down your body until his sight stopped at the crotch of your pants. Shit, had he heard you? Could he smell the trace amounts cum still clinging to your cunt? There was no real way to tell, but the way his eyeline kept drifting down before meeting your own again was enough to indicate that he was aware of what you had just done. 
You cleared your throat. “You know what I was doing, don’t you?” you asked and was met with another nod, this time to the affirmative.
Well, nothing to do about it now; what was the point of denying it? “Look, I just… needed something to take the edge off okay?” you spurted out. “I mean fuck, I still have needs, even if they had to be put on the back burner for a bit while we tried not to get overrun. You of all people should know how I get sometimes. At least I was quiet enough not to cause problems for us.”
Ghost looked back at you with those milky white eyes, but there was something behind them, something that you recognized, something… yearning. Suddenly you were aware that his other hand was on your hip now, tracing sloppy circles around the soft warm skin just under the hem of your shirt. 
Goddamn the familiarity of his fingers lingering over old paths they used to take in times almost forgotten; if you closed your eyes, it was like you were right there back with him. Your chest was tight with the increased thumping of your heartbeat in your throat, the air not filling up your lungs as well now as he pulled you in a little closer to him until your bodies were against one another. 
That was when you felt something against your thigh.
“Can you…?” you risked asking the question. No, there was no way that he could still get hard, right? Right? 
A large, cold hand wrapped around your wrist and brought it down to his crotch where he rested your palm against it and to your surprise the bulge in his pants responded to your touch. Your eyes shot back up to his as your breathing hitched. 
“Fuck,” you murmured and was promptly met with a grunt from him followed by a deep chuckle. 
Perhaps it was the history, the knowledge of what his body used to give you; perhaps it was the need that you had not truly quenched fully yet; perhaps it was your memories that you’d used as you touched yourself; or maybe it was as simple as you still wanted him; whatever the reason it didn’t matter. All you knew was that you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting more of what you started upstairs.  
Hesitantly your fingers grasped at his shirt, slowly tugging at the seam as if to silently ask to be allowed to remove it. Never letting his gaze waiver, Ghost raised his arms and allowed you to pull it up and off over his head. His body was just as you remembered, though quite a bit more pale and the flesh discolored in places, but all the lines and bumps, scars and imperfections were the same and as you ran those delicate fingertips over his skin it all came flooding back.
This is crazy, you told yourself. But it was the end of the world after all, why not go out with a bang?
“It’s been a while,” you said, gaze taking him all in. “God, you always did make my heart race just taking off your shirt, ya know.”
“Uhh,” he grunted in agreement. 
The contrast in body temperature between you both was stark and he enjoyed the warm, tingling feeling your finger left behind wherever they went. He had not felt such a phenomenon in so long that it was like lightening striking inside his mind as nerve endings reignited. It went the same with his pants as you undid them to let them hang loosely around his hips.
Following your lead, he helped you out of your shirt as well so that you stood bare chests facing one another. Your nipples were already hardening as they hit the cool air and he ran a fingertip over the tiny rosebuds to feel them. You were perfection, a sight of decadent flesh that fueled that hungry need he had to abruptly cut off before and the more he stared the more it grew.
The couch sat just behind you and taking your hand in his he moved the few steps over it to take a seat. Grabbing onto your hips and turning you around, he pulled you down onto his lap to sit on top of him. That throbbing bulge barely covered by the pants slipping off him was straining even harder now and you had to open your legs so that it could comfortably stand at attention in between them.
Situated on him you leaned your warm, bare back against his chest, those muscles that you knew by touch alone were now clammy, yet still familiarly fit against you just as they always had. Ghost took those stiff, cold fingers and ran them slowly down the line of your neck to your chest, around the tissue of your breast and down still to the curve of your hip. 
Being touched that way by another, by him, after so fucking long made your skin tingle and you leaned your head back against his shoulder to close your eyes and simply enjoyed the icy prickles his fingers created. He brought those fingers back up all the winding way to your throat and then back down again, except he did not stop at your hip this time. 
Lower he walked those decaying digits into your lap, then inside the waistband of your jeans, and then all the way down until he was inside your panties. You didn’t try to stop him, instead letting your knees fall open to give him more access. The further he went the more he could feel just how warm you were, the damp heat radiating off your cunt and into his pulse-less palm as he cupped his hand around your sex.
“Christ,” you exclaimed in shock as your body jolted against him, your pussy still a good bit sensitive from before. 
“Uhhh,” he groaned in response, intrigued by how much he enjoyed causing such a visceral reaction and wanting to replicate it. 
Again your scent filled his nostrils, those delicious pheromones that he had caught a whiff of earlier, and it began to awaken something primal within him. Taking his fingers, he drug them heavily over the slit of your cunt until they slipped between your petals and into that still dripping core. Again your body jolted into him as those thick fingers rubbed the length until he found what he had unconsciously been searching for: a small bundle towards the top. 
“Ugh,” that deep groan was more breathless this time, as if he were enjoying the feeling of your juices coating his fingers.  
Cool fingers began stroking against your clit with a rhythm that was ingrained in him from past experience and it was like falling right back into old habits. Your hips started to roll over his hand as they were want to do in response to his movements so that it was like a dance of give and take and he had to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you from slipping, but it was worth it to feel the way your body moved.
Like an animal a strange compulsion awakened inside, enhanced by the disease coursing through his veins, and the untamed part of his new nature was flooded with the need to rut into you. The more music you made, the more it filled his chest until the sensation became too much to quell. 
With a growl he moved you both to the floor in a rush, ripping your jeans off of you in one strong tug before pushing you forward and pulling your hips up so that you had to get on your knees. He too knelt behind you as he shoved the fabric of his clothing down enough to release his engorged cock and taking both of your hips into his preternatural grasp, so firm that his fingertips made the muscle sting, he aligned the head with your slit. 
This was crazy, highly dangerous, and slightly insane, but you couldn’t stop, not with how your body felt being pleasured for the first time in well over a year by someone who knew it. Whatever the consequences you’d deal with them later, right now you just needed to be filled to the brim with everything he had. 
Instinct knew what to do and slipping through your petals a few times, he rested the head against your opening and with a strong thrust shoved himself inside as far as he could go. Goddamn you had forgotten the actual feeling of how big he was, but there must be something in being undead that made him even more engorged because his girth almost more than the walls of your pussy could handle. Fuck, you were so full of him that when he finally pulled out of you it would feel so goddamn empty it would physically hurt.
You were aware that his cool palm was on your back now, running up the length of your spine to just between your shoulders where Ghost stopped to shove your top half down further into the ground so that your ass would rise more and without more of pause he began to thrust in and out of you furiously. Each stroke stretched you out more until the sting subsided and that was left was the satisfying euphoria that comes with being filled so full.
“Simon,” you moaned out his name and a dormant part of his brain lit up. Hearing it for the first time upstairs was nice, but being inside of you as you breathed life into that moniker was the highest level of ecstasy he had experienced yet.
And he need more. “UH,” he growled with force as he slammed into you from behind to make your ass bounce off of his hips. 
You braced your hands under your head to steady yourself, but it did little; the man inside of you was gone and all you could do was hang on. Still, even with his roughness, the way his cock still reached those desperate nerve endings inside of you made the arch of your back even more pronounced. 
“Fuck, you feel so good,” you choked out the exclamation as your voice vibrated from the impacts. 
Harder and faster Ghost pounded your pussy from behind, throwing caution to the wind as he grunted and groaned like a beast on the hunt about to capture a fresh kill. You were so fucking warm, so gorgeously wet, that even his dead skin felt reanimated so that each brush of your body against him had him reeling in pleasure. 
This was the closest he would get to feeling like a living thing again.
Stopping suddenly he ripped his cock out of you amidst your begging protests to flip you onto your back, brutishly pulling your ass onto his knees. Your thighs rested high around his torso, squeezing against him as he immediately thrust back into that warm, wet hole and expeditiously returned to that overwhelming rhythm. 
The room was filled with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as Ghost worked your hole for all it was worth with a reckless abandon that you had not seen in him before. This wasn’t love, not something tender, but only pure animalistic lust and the more he stroked in and out of you the more he needed.
And then he felt it; a warmth in his stomach like he had swallowed coals. It started faint, almost indistinguishable until it had nearly filled him full the more he kept going. 
He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t back down, he was so close he could taste it. You weren’t far off either, nearly at the peak of your second orgasm the harder his cock stroked in and out of you, stimulating your clit along with it just from the pressure of his thrusts. 
“Shit, don’t stop,” you pleaded pathetically to him, your toes curling into the air as you focused on your breathing. Right there, it was right there; all he had to do was keep going.   
A few more pumps of him deep in your core and that was it, like a hot flash of white light you cried out in shaky whimpers as your orgasm tore through with such force you shot up as your back arched and your hips bucked harshly into him. “Goddammit Simon, fuck.”
He wasn’t far behind as the warmth that had been building finally shot through his body, coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he ripped his cock out of you and through your thighs to cover your stomach in his milky white semen. The roar he released while he drained his cock dry over top of you rang out through the house like a wild animal’s cry until he hung limply over top of you, completely spent.
Everything lay still once again as you caught your breath, allowing your ecstasy to run its course before you even tried to move out from against him. As you came to sit up, once again you were met with his eyes watching you closely. It felt like he was admiring his handiwork: the flush in your cheeks, the sweat speckling your torso, the exhaustion in your limbs. 
He had done that…and he liked it.
You flashed him a genuine smile. “Well, that was something wasn’t it?” you laughed and he chuckled deadoan along with you. 
Maybe the end of the world didn’t have to be so bad after all. At least, now you both knew that there were ways to have a little fun… and oh fuck, were you going to keep having little bits of fun.
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lemonlover1110 · 7 months
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𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐋
Toji Fushiguro
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: You ruin your boyfriend's perfect marriage proposal.
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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When did Toji fall in love again? He remembers one day waking up and deciding that he wanted to spend the rest of his days with you. The thought of having a family with you overjoyed him, and the thought of you being with someone else fueled him with rage. That morning he realized he needed to propose.
Planning the perfect proposal isn’t easy though. He has to pick out the perfect ring, pick the perfect date that has the perfect weather outside, he has to pick out the perfect romantic spot that has some significance to your relationship, he has to tell you to get your nails done without seeming suspicious– He has to plan out so many different things and ensure everything is perfect. Toji has never been the type of man to worry about this but he wants to make sure this is memorable for you. He wants this to be perfect, all for you.
He picked out a date and made a reservation at your favorite restaurant, then you’ll be going for a drive. It’s date night, of course he wants to see you all dolled up, he doesn’t want you to look your best for any other reason. The man that always assures you that you’ll turn heads even if you wear a simple trash bag so he doesn’t need to see if your outfit is okay, is the same man that’s telling you that he wants you to wear his favorite pink dress of yours. It doesn’t click in your head though.
“Good morning.” You yawn as you step out of the bedroom. You’re wearing an old pajama set that is washed out, your hair is messy, and your face is a bit puffy after sleeping for so long. It’s the most beautiful sight in Toji’s eyes though. You walk up to him and kiss his cheek before walking to the kitchen to serve yourself a cup of coffee.
“How’d you sleep, baby?” Toji asks, sitting down at the dining table to watch you get your day started. He hopes it starts off great, and that it’ll keep getting better until he finally proposes. His proposal is in just a couple hours, and the nerves are beginning to kill him. 
“I had the strangest dream last night.” You comment, making him raise his brows. 
“What was it?” He questions, and you shake your head. You walk to the dining table and take a seat across from him.
“It just made me realize… I want to spend every day I have left of life with you.” You begin, and he hopes that you’re not insinuating what he thinks. No, you can’t be doing that. You can’t be so selfish and ruin all his hard work. “I want us to get married, Toji.”
“No!” He yells, slamming his hand on the table, and your eyes widen. You’re taken back by the response, and your heart swells. You didn’t expect him to… Reject you. The same man that you cuddled into the previous night, who told you how much he loved you and how he wants to spend the rest of eternity with you, rejects you angrily. 
“I– Um…” You try to gather words, and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes.
“No! I do want to get married.” He says once he realizes how overdramatic and mean he sounded. “I just…” He chuckles. “I planned out the perfect proposal. In a couple hours, I was going to propose.”
You watch him stand up and walk away from the dining table, to the bedroom. You wipe away the tear that manages to slip, and you laugh in relief. You just had the worst timing possible. He walks back to you, holding the little black box.
He gets on one knee in front of you, and he opens the little black box to showcase the perfect ring. This isn’t how he planned it– He’s shirtless, only wearing his pajama pants. He’s kneeling on the cold tile of the kitchen floor. Your nails aren’t done yet, and you clearly just woke up.
“I also want to spend every day I have left of life waking up next to you, as your husband. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He asks, and you nod your head frantically.
“Yes!” You exclaim, overjoyed. You get up from the chair, giving him your hand so he puts the engagement ring on your ring finger. He gets up from the floor, his hands wrapping around your waist while his lips meet yours.
Maybe this isn’t the ideal proposal, and you don’t look how he envisioned. But you still look perfect, washed out pajamas and all; and you look perfect, and you sound perfect, and you act perfect. Maybe he didn’t have to plan all of it out, he just needed you for the proposal to be ideal.
And when you pull away from the kiss and he admires your eyes, he realizes something. He fell in love the moment he realized that you make the worst possible outcome, simply the best.
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edenmemes · 7 months
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baldur's gate 3 starters (part 1)
part 1 / ? .
❝ a less trusting person might think this all sounds very suspicious. ❞ ❝ you say all the right words, but i’m not sure you mean the right things. ❞ ❝ i know somewhere quiet. somewhere intimate. somewhere we can…indulge in each other. ❞ ❝ eugh, don’t be nice to me. it makes me want to be nice back. ❞ ❝ we needn’t be enemies. there’s plenty of those to go around already. ❞ ❝ there’s a steeliness to you, an unwavering tenacity in the face of, to be frank, quite dire odds. ❞ ❝ even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will. ❞ ❝ i appreciate anyone that opens a conversation with threats of bodily harm. ❞ ❝ oh, you know me - ever the optimist. i’m trying to focus on the positives. ❞ ❝ i’m not easily impressed by people, but you’re stronger than i gave you credit for. ❞ ❝ there’s an air about you. something alien. ❞ ❝ loosen the grip on your pride for one blasted moment, won’t you? ❞ ❝ it’s been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me like that. ❞ ❝ there’s something odd about this village. people skulk around like they’ve something to hide. ❞ ❝ you know, if you want to spend time with me, you only have to say so. ❞ ❝ i want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. what you see. ❞ ❝ what’s better than a devil you don’t know? a devil you do. ❞ ❝ you must know that you’re…that you’re very special to me. ❞ ❝ the gods are nothing if not vindictive in their vengeance. ❞ ❝ stay with me a while, will you? day will come all too soon. ❞ ❝ here’s my little treat with their cheeks all flushed. ❞ ❝ i am terrified. i will not claim otherwise. ❞ ❝ my apologies. i’m not quite myself yet. i had the strangest dream last night. ❞ ❝ we didn’t die today. tomorrow, perhaps. but not today. ❞ ❝ leader’s need to make tough decisions. we do what we must. ❞ ❝ i think that unknowable powers come with unknowable consequences. ❞ ❝ i’ve had a lifetime’s fill of watching little men puff themselves up with grand titles. ❞ ❝ in these times, all we can trust are the blades in our hands. ❞ ❝ it’s not easy to turn away from one you once loved. ❞ ❝ much has been promised to you, hasn’t it? but what has been taken from you? ❞ ❝ damn it all. i can do nothing right - not a damn thing. ❞ ❝ every instinct i have tells me that nothing’s changed. that i’m still just a means to an end. ❞ ❝ do not speak of a story you only know the half of. ❞ ❝ i dreamt every night that you’d come back to me. that somehow it was all a nightmare dawn would undo. ❞ ❝ when the time comes to strike, you must take it. for there may be only one chance. ❞ ❝ your eyes. there is pain, endless and deep. but also devotion - blazing like the sun. ❞ ❝ you’re adorable even when you’re teasing me. ❞ ❝ i don’t need your help, and i don’t need your pity. ❞ ❝ i’m more than what i was. and i’m not afraid of anything any more. ❞ ❝ i said exactly what i meant: i love you. you should never, never doubt that. ❞ ❝ this is all like some sort of terrible dream. but it’s real, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ there is no redemption. can’t you see? it is too late. ❞ ❝ i don’t know that it was brave. i just know that it was right. ❞ ❝ you took those bastards down like it was nothing. it…was amazing. ❞ ❝ they underestimated me. so they paid the price. ❞ ❝ we fight, we die, and we just hope that when our time comes, there is someone else to take our place. ❞ ❝ unfortunately for me, you’re my friend. rescuing you from mortal peril is my right. ❞ ❝ what did you think i was going to say? 'oh, come here, i'll kiss you better'? ❞ ❝ flowers are so overrated. they're bright, gaudy, and almost never make good poisons. ❞ ❝ i’ve been lied to, my whole life. and i was gullible enough to just believe it. ❞ ❝ you know, i never pictured myself as a hero. never thought i'd be the one they toast for saving so many lives. and now that i'm here…i hate it. ❞ ❝ you know, i feel a connection between us. like we're two souls walking the same path. ❞ ❝ the forgiving sort, are you? you should be careful. plenty would take advantage of that. ❞
❝ it’s as if god made you just to ruin me. ❞ ❝ perish the thought. every word i said was nothing less than true. ❞ ❝ you have a manner of irresistible desperation about you. i like it. ❞ ❝ i got my eye on you. you got the look of a troublemaker. ❞ ❝ i’m starting to think you’re my guardian angel. ❞ ❝ it seems you know me better than i know myself. ❞ ❝ you…you have no idea what you’ve done. ❞ ❝ they say madness and genius are separated by but a hair’s breadth. perhaps the same is true of madness and stupidity. ❞ ❝ oh, it’s you. don’t you get tired of telling people how to live their lives? ❞ ❝ good morning! thank you for not killing me the other night. ❞ ❝ when the time comes to strike, you must take it. for there may be only one chance. ❞ ❝ it is good to savour the moment of victory - but pace bg3 syourself. our fight is just beginning. ❞ ❝ i was too hasty to judge you. i thought you were witless, gutless, unimpressivably bland… ❞ ❝ yours is the first happy face i’ve seen in a good while. ❞ ❝ when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair – that’s when you’ll come knocking on my door. ❞ ❝ thank you, my friend. maybe we’ll meet again, in another life. ❞ ❝ you’ll regret sticking your nose in my business. ❞
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radioactive-mouse · 2 months
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i keep thinking about like. how the brutality levels vary between seasons and how secret life is the natural culmination of everything these people have been through and the watchers pushing everything to extremes. i’m going to try to articulate how crazy this makes me
3rd Life: god. 3rd life was a clear cut war. we haven’t seen a season since where nearly everyone has such an intense devotion to their chosen faction. the fact that there’s no precedent that they’re coming back next season, the fact that as far as they know, dying means staying dead, makes just how much they’re willing to go down with the ship that much more heartbreaking. grian ended the season exactly how it was played by damn near everyone else— i love you, i would do anything for you, i would rather die than keep going without you. the season of widows.
Last Life: and then they come back. and then ending things isn’t an option. and all of a sudden it’s not a war, it’s a death match, and damn is the competition is vicious. deaths are more often than not a vague, impersonal thing— not get away from my king, my husband, my charge— just the flash of a knife and a quick sorry, just playing the game! if 3rd life told you to hold the ones you love close, defend them to your last breath, last life urges you to burn that love out of your chest entirely.
Double Life: but everything slows down eventually. no more dying for the one you love— just learning to live with them. double life is about knowing that when you die, you will go together, hand and hand into the dark. a soap opera, the players joke. a small kindness, the universe replies. again, pearl wins the same way everyone else lost— no, not yet, please, just give us a little longer together, i’m not ready, i’m so sorry—
Limited Life: but the clock, unyielding, ticks ever onward. and god, everyone is starting to feel it. that sick, nauseating feeling of dread creeping up on them: what if it never ends? what if this is it, this is all that’s left for us— tearing each other apart over and over and over again, and for what? for a show? to feed those hungry things lurking in the dark? we’ll give them a show. bombs rain from the sky, the world shaking under the weight of it. there isn’t a thing left by the end that’s not rubble. we’re all doomed! the players cry, laughing with nothing but nihilistic, unrestrained joy. none of it matters! we come back again, and again, and again, have a little fun with it! light the fuse, collateral be damned. when death means so little, what’s the point in pretending they don’t take a little joy in it? we settle this like grian and scar before us, scott jokes, armor and weapons tossed to the side. are you insane? martyn thinks, remembering the hollow look that would wash over grian’s face when he thought no one was watching. it ruined him. it will not ruin me. this is a death match for a reason.
Secret Life: and here it is. the natural conclusion. this season is candy colored, the map dotted with cute pink houses and silly builds, the players all running around doing these ridiculous tasks. it’s so easy to forget how bloody this season was. unclosing wounds, bruises that don’t fade, the sting of fire or falling from a simple misstep. the hurt never goes away, but it gets easier to ignore— distract yourself with something silly to pass the time: spyglasses and frogs and the ugliest house you’ve ever seen and matching leather jackets and the doghouse and the relationSHIP and a weird tunnel full of doors and secret soulmates and god it’s almost, almost, enough to forget how much it all aches, how much the grief weighs on you, how many times someone you love has died, sometimes to your own blade. almost none of the grudges you hold are real by now, not really. not when you’re going to live and die with these people for as long as the hungry, many-eyed things delight in your suffering. you love each other, in the strangest way— sure you’ve all killed and betrayed each other in a thousand different ways, but at the end of the day, they’re all you have. clinging to each other in the face of the vast, unknowable horrors that drive you to slash each other to pieces. it’s still a game, after all. they’ve gotta figure out how to be good sports about it eventually.
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infestedguest · 5 months
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A relatively common trope of fma fanfiction is the modern Amestris au, which is basically your standard modern au for all your slice of life needs except stuff like alchemy and automail still exist, so the author doesn’t have come up with real world equivalents when that’s not really the point of their fic.
This is all fine and dandy, but one thing that’s always bugged me is that most of the time in these fics Al is just like. a normal, not disembodied, fully abled child. There are several issues with this, mainly that this alteration significantly changes the character dynamic between Ed and Al in ways the author often doesn’t account for at all.
This is also a common issue is regular modern aus, but I bring it up in the context of modern Amestris aus because an idea just occurred to me that I don’t think I’ve seen before: since alchemy still exists, why not have Al just straight up still be in the armor? Put that boy in public school and give him the strangest IEP known to man!
Touchscreens don’t recognize his leather fingers so he has a blackberry (which his hands are way too big for so it takes him twice as long to send most messages because he doesn’t like to leave in typos).
He was both pressured into joining and permanently banned from his middle school’s basketball team within the span of a week.
His condition isn’t secret or anything, it was kind of a big deal at the time and it made the news after it happened but after awhile the buzz mostly died down.
They were contacted by one of those medical mysteries documentary shows (a la extraordinary people), and Pinako told them that if they thought she would let an entire camera crew into her house they were fucking insane.
The initial publicity is the only reason the Amestrian government hasn’t kidnapped him or anything, but they do stalk him and the brothers and the Rockbells have definitely noticed.
If Izumi is Ed and Al’s legal guardian they are much more discreet about it because whenever she spots them hiding in the bushes or whatever she starts reciting castle doctrine law “to no one in particular.”
Because the modern world is a bureaucratic panopticon from hell and also CPS exists instead of just going out into the world to find the philosophers stone the Elrics just have to study real hard and try to eventually get into Alchemy MIT I guess.
Al is physically unable to use any kind of headphones because he has no ears.
He and Mei Chang are playing Minecraft right now as we speak.
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serafilms · 5 months
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song 53! magic (one direction) + percy jackson requested by @isabelboo (2023 spotify wrapped event)
you, you’ve got this spell on me, i don’t know what to believe, kissed you once now i can’t leave
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Percy isn’t really sure how or when it started, but he’s pretty sure you’ve put some kind of curse on him.
His thoughts are consumed by you day and night. His vision tunnels in on you every time you’re around. Whenever you talk to him, all he can do is think of your lips. It’s excruciating. It’s nauseating. And it’s definitely affecting his daily activities, he thinks as he sits, dazed in the infirmary, with a stab wound (a very minor one!) in his side.
It has to be some kind of magic, he thinks, because he’s never felt like this. Maybe some voodoo? Maybe a trick by Hecate as vengeance for defeating the Titans. Maybe you’ve been slipping him potions in his food. It could be anything, and Percy is not as well-versed in magic knowledge as some other people at camp, so he has no idea.
But he finds himself always looking for you, asking after you. He finds himself trailing after you always, and depressed when you’re not around.
The strangest part is that nobody else seems to notice anything out of the ordinary, and he’s too afraid to ask them about it.
He mentioned something about it to Annabeth once, but she merely waved him off.
(“It’s like I can only think of Y/N,” he said.
Annabeth looked over her notes distractedly. “Uh huh, yeah, that’s great, Percy. Hey, since you’re not being any help here, would you mind getting Y/N so they can help me finish the Capture the Flag plans?”
Percy blinked. “Okay?”)
He thinks it must have started somewhere between all the times you held his hand to lead him somewhere, or the times he stood behind you to help correct your sword fighting posture, or the times you touched his hands and arms to correct his archery posture. He always ended up blushing furiously after each of those ordeals.
Or maybe it started that time he kissed you. Although, technically, you’d kissed him first (on the cheek, nothing crazy!) before he went off to face Kronos.
But then again, Percy had been the one to kiss you on the lips when he found you again after.
(“Percy!”
He heard the call of his name, registered your voice, and his head was already whipping around to find you. He found you, a strained look on your face as you hobbled towards him, and Percy rushed towards you.
No sooner had you steadied yourself by holding onto his forearms than he had leaned forwards and kissed you on the lips.)
But Percy couldn’t help it! He’d just been so worried about you, and so relieved to find you alive. He thinks maybe during one of those kisses you transferred your evil little spell.
Still, he hoped that kiss might have meant something to you, more than friendship, but you hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about it, since you’d collapsed on your broken ankle right after.
Even until now, you two have never really discussed what you are, or what the kiss/es entail for your future relationship. Because magic spell or not, Percy’s endless thoughts about you have him planning out your future (however much of it you can plan for two demigods who face certain death before their prime). An apartment in New York, close enough to his mom and Paul but not so close that it’s overbearing, college and planning schedules to match up, weekends out with your friends laughing and eating and watching movies and doing normal teenager things.
That’s all he wants. But he’ll settle for the lingering touches and smiles he gets from you for now.
But this curse, spell, whatever (because gods forbid Percy Jackson admit he’s in love with you before he’s sure you’re in love with him. They kissed you, Percy! What more do you need, for Zeus’ sake) is seriously becoming a problem, because somebody explain to him how from 30 feet away, Percy managed to see an Ares camper headed straight for you and make it over the battlefield in time to intercept it. With his own abdomen.
It was a stupid mistake, he acknowledges now. He’s been through countless battles, and he knows he could’ve incapacitated the camper from behind, or just knocked the spear out of his hand or something. But something about seeing you in danger just sets alight a fire in his mind that burns through any rational thought, leaving only an urge to stop you from getting hurt.
A little inconvenient now that he’s wincing on an infirmary bed with his side burning up. But at least you’re okay. And oh, look! It’s you! He’s not sure if he’s hallucinating now, or if you’re really standing in front of him.
“Seaweed brain,” you say, sniffling.
Okay, definitely you.
“Hey Y/N,” Percy says meekly. His side still feels like it’s on fire but his heart feels warmer with you here.
You take his hand and his heart aches at the tears in your eyes. “Hey, I’m fine,” he assures, ignoring the fact that he is definitely not fine.
“You’re an idiot, is what you are.”
“Yeah, that too.”
You look at him, at the ridiculous little smile he’s giving you to reassure you, at the bandages around his waist, and his hand in yours, and you lurch forwards and press your lips to his.
Percy jolts in surprise and feels his abdomen screaming at him from the movement, but kisses back nonetheless, feeling your lips on his once more and your tongue graze his bottom one.
When you pull back, he stares at you in a daze. If kissing is how you kept this spell on him, he is okay with being under it forever.
“You’re ridiculous, Percy Jackson,” you say, “but I love you.”
He swears his heart has never felt this warm. “I love you too.”
(“Sorry,” Leo says, looking rather gobsmacked, “they weren’t already dating?”
“Leo!” Piper throws her hands up in exasperation.
He smacks his cheeseburger back down on his plate and stares at the faces of his friends. Jason and Frank also look rather miffed, but the girls are all rolling their eyes. “Excuse me for being surprised! They’ve known each other since they were, what, 13?”
“12, actually,” answers Annabeth.
“12! When Percy woke up on the other side of America, the only name he could remember was Y/N’s, right?”
“Correct,” says Frank.
“And we spent ages on the Argo II, during which they got caught in the stables—“
“They were just talking,” says Hazel.
“—and they fell into Tartarus together! Because he refused to let go of her hand! They literally went all the way to hell, all the way through hell, and back out, together!”
Nobody says a word, all looking at Leo.
“You’re telling me,” Leo says, breathing very intensely as though he just found out that his pet dog has been run over, “that during that entire time, neither of them asked each other out?”
“Nope,” says Annabeth matter-of-factly, “and he also kissed Y/N on his 16th birthday.”
“Man,” Jason sighs, “talk about slow burn.”)
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