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notmygrave · 11 months

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i am a dog. i have blood all over my teeth

#just something i wrote #my dog did in fact strangle a cat today. i did yell at him. it was my neighbor’s cat and there’s high likelihood that he’s going to try and #poison my dog. it’s okay i’ll poison the neighbor then eye for an eye tooth for a tooth #prose poetry #canine poetry #but not in a tiktok way i read the raven cycle in my crucial development phase and projected onto ronan a bit too much #mine #but also #журнал

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allthehumanflaws · 21 days

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A Lowly Servant

Summary -

Merlin feels he is not a friend of Arthur or the Knights. He is just a servant. Just a lowly servant. Why would they even be his friends? He is just Arthur's manservant. Nothing else.

#merlin #merthur #fanfic #writing #ao3 fanfic #gwaine #leon #percival #gaius #arthur pendragon #just something i wrote #king arthur #magic #merlin tv #elyan #original character

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themidnightarcher · 2 months

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untitled.

the sun's rays fired at my skin like violent missiles, engulfing my soul into a momentary state of eternal light, which in turn blinded my vision. my veins began to mercilessly spill burnt ink and her glowing gold threatened to permanently shed my tarnished coat of armour and shield. i asked for a swordsman, but god eagered me to stare at my hands. i felt exposed yet enlightened, smiling in the face of great, gracious glory. my only wanted desire was to try, and try and try.

in the vast realm of poetry, i could not hide in fear. i lose myself in its tender embrace, transcending reality, finding both solace and grace. all is fair in love and poetry, i quietly tell myself. a woven tapestry of unspoken words, which were born of a raging, maddened stream of consciousness, remained oppressed. my mourning of my inability to articulate my thoughts properly befriended my internal struggle to capture the essence of what it truly means to simply be. the callous and cruel passages of careless time was suspended and reality subsided. isolation served as my sole yet steadfast companion, which i held a silent resentment for. yet, i am tightly tethered to this feeling of solitude. how could i abandon this, that has slowly yet surely become an intimate friend of mine? for in its daring depths, i have found a voice. oh how romantic! a wise voice whose great verses spoke in great vain to fellow souls. a resolute bond i cannot fully comprehend. my friend, however, ached to depart from my soul, but i remain attached. she desired to retrace her haunted footnotes in my life's narrative, in which i ardently refused. the shaking uncertainties of a widened, wonderful world stifled yet saved self from a lifetime of tortured, incessant thoughts.

i thought myself a wise poet, whose greatest laments and limitations of self were eulogies of the the mind's labyrinth, but questioned myself a fraud, a mere trickster, who superficially sought out the poet's noble stride? am i truly worthy of its worthiness? but whether i am a fake or truly bear the poet's name, ultimately, i decide to embrace this sacred duality, my role as the walking contradiction of man, of being a poet, both fearful and bold. or in my own words, i find liberation and refuge, in love's poetic rhapsody.

#not officially back yet!#focusing on prioritizing and investing in myself for now #i deserve it #<3 #poetry #fatmata's poetry #poem #just something i wrote

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hiimgin · 7 months

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Sorry, that's too bad... However, I couldn't help but write this.

"Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked..."

- Wait! I don't want to be a traitor! This is very... Wrong and bad! - Red looked down sadly, feeling tears start to come to his eyes

- Exactly. Why does Red have to be a traitor? We already have one among us.

- Are you hinting at me, Blue? - Vio threw a somewhat disgruntled look at him

- Of course you are! You've already betrayed us in the past, so why can't you do it again!!!! Why should we trust you!!!

Vio took a deep breath.

- I've explained it many times--

- BOTH OF YOU! - Green interjected. - Stop it. Now. Vio had a plan that worked, Blue. So we can trust him. And, Vio. Learn not to react to his attempts to piss you off! Otherwise, at this rate, we'll be divided again.

- Sounds reasonable.

- ... Fine.

#something strange #i think #it's #four swords manga (?)#avatar (?)#crossover (?)#Just something I wrote #It's weird #I guess.

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nowtheyknowilied · 9 months

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You came and you left

In between coming and leaving there was something quite magical about us, wasn’t there?

Or am I absurd for thinking such nonsense? I will always wonder

At least for me, we were something great. Kind of like a breath of fresh air. Or the warmth of an open fire on a winters night.

The feeling of utter wholeness, nothing less.

The ‘ so this is what I’ve been waiting for all my life’ feeling.

Our love was like a puzzle, two pieces that fit just perfectly.

But once broken can’t be fixed, things never quite fit as beautifully as the first time.

We tried though,

Didn’t we.

So as I say; our love was like a puzzle once completed but then broken.

You came. You left.

P.s, I wish you would’ve stayed a little while longer.

E.M

#just something I wrote #thinking #thoughts #things left unsaid #lost words #words ill never say #me #i think i’ll miss you forever #sad love #love #heartbreak #hurt

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salsascribbless · 2 years

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(tap for better quality)

words:

never-ending

The cycle continues

Listen! in the wind,

the sea

the stars

places imperceptible

The cycle continues

never-ending

Yet,

despite it all

We live

***

i don't know what this is about either but i love you

#ramblings #just something i wrote #idk if this counts as poetry #art #artists on tumblr #artwork #illustration #digital art #mspaint

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inkskinned · 9 months

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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

#almost wrote the champagne line as ''effervescent'' but legit could not write it without saying ''effervescent like a snail''#ah tumblr...#writeblr #warm up #idk . having trouble writing rn #ps i don't like to talk about it . it is my medical information. but before you ask. yes this is about being on the spectrum #i really don't like when ppl make my writing about how im [whatever ID]. i want it to ring true for the people who it rings true for #i don't want it to be like ''awwwww look at this person!!! she's the EXCEPTION!!! :)" .....#no.... not really.....#idk something gross happens whenever i admit to certain conditions and i turn into like inspiration p*rnography #like yes they actually let us use keyboards these days #furthermore i just... dont feel comfortable talking about this part of me. i had too bad of a childhood. adhd is one thing...#this one im like. still coming to terms with. which is like. my own journey.#idk. just please be kind. some things are more private than others. this one feels private to me.#i do not know how to help others w/this . and i do not know how to help myself. i will talk about it if im ever ready. idk if that will #actually ever happen #ty in advance i love u im kissing you we are kissing somewhere on the spectrum

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 5 months

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the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

#due to the Great Data Decay academics write viciously argumentative articles on which episodes aired in what order #at conferences professors have known to engage in physically violent altercations whilst debating the air date number of household viewers #90% of the couch gags have been lost and there is a billion dollar trade in counterfeit “lost copies”#serious note: i'll be honest i always assumed it was english imperialism that made shakespeare so inescapable in the 19th/20th cent #like his writing should have become obscure at the same level of his contemporaries #but british imperialists needed an ENGLISH LANGUAGE (and BRITISH) writer to venerate #and shakespeare wrote so many damn things that there was a humongous body of work just sitting there waiting to be culturally exploited...#i know it didn't happen like this but i imagine a English Parliament House Committee Member For The Education Of The Masses or something #cartoonishly stumbling over a dusty cobwebbed crate labelled the Complete Works of Shakespeare #and going 'Eureka! this shall make excellent propoganda for fabricating a national identity in a time of great social unrest.#it will be a cornerstone of our elitist educational institutions for centuries to come! long live our decaying empire!'#'what good fortune that this used to be accessible and entertaining to mainstream illiterate audience members...#..but now we can strip that away and make it a difficult & alienating foundation of a Classical Education! just like the latin language :)'#anyway maybe there's no such thing as the 'greatest writer of x language' in ANY language?#maybe there are just different styles and yes levels of expertise and skill but also a high degree of subjectivity #and variance in the way that we as individuals and members of different cultures/time periods experience any work of media #and that's okay! and should be acknowledged!!! and allow us to give ourselves permission to broaden our horizons #and explore the stories of marginalized/underappreciated creators #instead of worshiping the List of Top 10 Best (aka Most Famous) Whatevers Of All Time/A Certain Time Period #anyways things are famous for a reason and that reason has little to do with innate “value”#and much more to do with how it plays into the interests of powerful institutions motivated to influence our shared cultural narratives #so i'm not saying 'stop teaching shakespeare'. but like...maybe classrooms should stop using it as busy work that (by accident or designs)#happens to alienate a large number of students who could otherwise be engaging critically with works that feel more relevant to their world #(by merit of not being 4 centuries old or lacking necessary historical context or requiring untaught translation skills)#and yeah...MAYBE our educational institutions could spend less time/money on shakespeare critical analysis and more on...#...any of thousands of underfunded areas of literary research i literally (pun!) don't know where to begin #oh and p.s. the modern publishing world is in shambles and it would be neat if schoolwork could include modern works?#beautiful complicated socially relevant works of literature are published every year. it's not just the 'classics' that have value #and actually modern publications are probably an easier way for students to learn the basics. since lesson plans don't have to include the #important historical/cultural context many teens need for 20+ year old media (which is older than their entire lived experience fyi)

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letteriwillneversend · 2 months

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sometime i wonder what it will be like when you meet God. will He be kind? authoritative? intimidating? larger than life? will He be like that fable of the spirit with a thousand faces - each as unpredictable and firmly etched as the next?

i imagine what it might be like if i were to get to meet Him.

in my mind, i meet God in the field at the end of Everything. my body feels light and heavy all at once.

i don’t know how that’s possible, but of course, it is.

when i meet Him, i’m not sure what to say. is there a proper greeting you’re supposed to say when you talk to the Creator of Everything? somehow, a simple hello or hey feels improper.

He knows how little i understand, and so He speaks first. His voice is definitely of someone All-Knowing and All Powerful. this deity has seen my every mistake and every failing and every lie and every cheat and every shortcut and every insult. he’s seen me in my infancy when i was nothing and in my younger years with sticky fingers and in my teen years with a sharp tongue. only He knows how hard my heart is, because He is the one created it. He alone can see through the flesh and blood and tissue and bone and straight into my heart and see what i truly am - just. human.

He asks me what my purpose was. the question catches me off guard - i figured if anything, isn’t God supposed to know the answer to that one? but He waits patiently, like He has all the time in the universe. of course, He does.

my answer is a guess at best - it feels like i have no right to be confident in what i say here. after all, who am i to know?

He asks if i know who He is. i nod, and He acknowledges it. He asks more questions - not inquisitive or interrogative or curious, but there’s a rhythm to the questions that’s thoughtful.

what i believed. who i believed. what i did. who i was. these questions are to be expected, but i still answer them with less confidence than i had hoped to have had. i feel ill-prepared and embarrassingly awkward.

His next question is unexpected, and there is a full beat before my mind begins to process it.

“Were you kind?”

“What?”

“Were you kind? Did you treat my Creation with gentility? Were you merciful to those weaker than you, and patient with those stronger?

Were you kind?”

something about the question makes my lip start to tremble and my vision start to blur. i try to will it to stop, to steady my voice, but it escapes me. in the back of my mind i think that i must look quite tiny like this, like a pudgy toddler gripping at your pant leg, small and earnest and vulnerable and perhaps, weak.

“I don’t know. But I know that I tried.

And I really did try.”

my voice wobbles more than i want it to. and just when i think i have it controlled, that the vulnerability has passed and the face i’ve worn all my life is back in place, the strangest thing happens.

a feeling of understanding fills me up and surrounds me all at once. God does not have a face, because he is not you or i, so naturally He has no facial expression. but something about the feeling filling me up like water on a sinking boat tells me that He understands.

He knows.

i had learned at a very young age that God is always watching - that He would know if i cheated on a test or tripped my friend in the schoolyard or gave my brother the infinitesimally smaller half of the chocolate bar. God sees everything. He Knows.

but it takes this moment for it to click into understanding for me. God sees everything. He knows. the knowledge of that hits me like a weight into my chest and knocks the air out of my lungs. it’s unnerving and unfamiliar and all encompassing. He knows all of it - He saw every time i picked my nose and everytime i told a white lie and everytime i prayed without thinking and everytime i was too lazy to study and everytime i disappointed someone in my life and everytime i knew better still chose wrong. He saw everytime i lied and everytime i swore and everytime i shot someone a dirty look when i thought they wouldn’t notice or everytime i broke a promise and everytime i let someone down. He knew everytime i thought something horrible or looked at something i shouldn’t have or everytime i eavesdropped or everytime i forgot to ask the cashier how their day went because i was in a rush. this is a terrifying realization.

yet somehow, the next realization is what scares me more. He saw everytime i blinked back tears and everytime i begrudgingly swallowed poison in my words and everytime i put on strength like an armor and everytime i wanted to yell until i couldn’t anymore. He saw every time i was too tired to cry and everytime i chose to be warm simply because i could and everytime i made someone laugh and every time i let someone borrow my pen even though it’s my favorite and everytime i sat with someone eating alone and everytime i complimented a stranger just to make them smile and even everytime i gave my brother the infinitesimally larger half of a chocolate bar.

something passes, and something stills. a new feeling washes over me - something so unfamiliar, but so welcome. i cannot tell you how it feels without it being a disservice, but i will try anyway.

it feels like… something. it feels like returning home from war and having your weariness lifted away. it feels like trying your favorite childhood treat and having it taste exactly as you remembered it. it feels like waking up on your birthday and having it feel special. it feels like returning home after a long day to a warm, home-cooked meal and eating it with someone you love. it feels like being hugged so you’re never the first to let go. it feels like sitting down after you’ve been standing for so long; like being exhausted and then settling into a made bed where the sheets are soft and the comforter is crisp and the pillows are cool and the mattress pulls you in and dissolves your restlessness. it feels like finding you have exactly the right amount of money in your bank account. it feels like the warmth of your favorite mug after you’ve just enjoyed a hot drink in it.

it feels like how i imagine it feels to return home after the longest day ever and put your head in the lap of a loving mother, who doesn’t need to ask anything as she softly brushes her fingers through your hair over and over and over again.

in my mind, God understands. He knows.

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head-in-the-cosmos · 8 months

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My therapist said, “People who focus too far ahead in life tend to be anxious.”

Anxious is a strange word,

seemingly innocuous,

for such a lethal feeling:

that tightness in my chest, that screaming in my head.

Christmas is five weeks away and

I love the season so much

I’d marry it,

except I can only think of how bad

I’m going to feel

after it’s over.

It’s Wednesday and I have to work on Friday and I have an appointment I’m dreading on Tuesday and all of sudden,

it’s Monday night

and I can’t breathe.

My therapist said, “Be present. Be here and it will be okay.”

But since I learned how to read clocks,

I’ve always been terrible with time

and like my seventh-grade teacher

wrote on my report card,

the punctuality of my life

keeps slipping through

my fingers

and if I keep up like this,

the punctuality

won’t be the only thing that’s

slipping.

-M.G.

#spilled feelings #spilled ink #spilled writing #anxiété #my poetry #poetic #poems and poetry #original poem #female writers #writers and lovers #just something I wrote

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allthehumanflaws · 16 days

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Chapter 3

"What you are thinking is not correct Merlin. Why would you think they hate you?" asked Gaius over dinner.

"What else can be the reason, Gaius? They don't behave like that with other servants. It's just me. I must have done something to make them behave like this. I must have imagined Arthur's politeness as his friendship. I am his manservant. They are the Knights. If not, his equal they are his friends. I should understand that. They are not my equals and thus cannot be my friends."

Gaius sighed. There is no use telling Merlin anything once he has decided otherwise. He just hoped that Merlin will be proved wrong.

#merlin #merthur #fanfic #writing #ao3 fanfic #gwaine #leon #percival #gaius #arthur pendragon #just something i wrote #king arthur #magic #merlin tv #elyan #original character

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transsextual · 1 year

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feb 2, elle emerson (@transsextual)

text description under the cut!

[slashes indicate single line breaks. text description:

utah bans gender affirming care for people under 18. / south carolina is following suit and worse. / i'd cry but i can't anymore, not like i used to. / my girlfriend tells me they're so tired but she doesn't know why – / "i wasn't even doing anything today" / our anniversary is this month. / i feel like a puppy when i see her. / i get high and rearrange my friend's fridge magnets / queer sentences cover the freezer door. / "eat the skin and hearts of men it attracts dykes" / "i kiss fags" / "feel it up partner" / "you may do it but use condom" - / we laugh about that one. we watch star trek. / their roommate calls me cool; we grew up on the same books. / another friend of mine is taking a gap year to go to brazil, relearn portugese. / the boy i dated who is now my best friend is coming up with my family in a few weeks. / we're going thrifting together on the weekend, and i / am going to try to get an extension on my paper. / dance rehearsal on sundays. / my roommates want to go to ikea. /

my uber driver mentioned his husband when i asked about his day. / i thanked him for it at the end of the ride, and he laughed and pointed out the trans flag sticker on the dash. / on my way into the clinic i think i saw him crying. / i introduced myself to the lab tech and she asked me to say my real name. / she took six vials of my blood. /

so many of my friends are named after gods. / this has to be for something.

#is this something im trying to make it something #not posting to instagram because it isnt very polished i just sat and wrote it quickly. but it feels good to have finished something #speak #writes #hall of shame

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writeouswriter · 1 year

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Broke: Acknowledging that a character who is an objectively terrible person is also a complex and intentionally well thought out individual with different levels of nuance you can empathize with in some ways while not in others is immediately “woobifying” or “poor little meow meowifying” them.

Woke: “This character is a bad person” and “this character is still a person” are two statements that can, should and do coexist and admitting that they exhibit nuance and depth and are more than just their bad actions doesn’t immediately excuse or condone their bad actions or mean that you’re ignoring or trying to soften the canonical version of the character.

Bespoke: That’s the whole point, that’s always been the point, to be made to empathize with horrible people so you can understand that they can be anyone, that bad people can be likeable, can be interesting, can be human, are human, and it’s scary to think about all the ways they’re just like you and all the ways they’re just like everything you hate, forcing the use of critical skills in media analysis, forcing a confrontation of the duality of man.

Whatever Level is Above Bespoke: But sometimes, yeah, sure, maybe they are a poor little meow meow, what are you gonna do, get a lawyer

#oh you would absolutely hate who sparked this post would absolutely hate it #and i am absolutely never going to tag who it is #writing #writeblr #books #media #movies #tv shows #poor little meow meow #media analysis #character analysis #literature #oh my god oh my god i shan't say it but i looked at the urban dictionary for something and oh my god #listen I’m not forgiving them I’m just observing the writers purposefully wrote more to them like they are the worst but hey #lying in wait like a spider to see if anyone tags this as the character that initially sparked this no one has yet #Upon last check 12400 notes someone has mentioned will not say when or who 👍

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gauloiseblue · 1 month

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You always joked about how you'd find out what's beneath his mask someday. Literally and figuratively.

He'd scoff at your attempts, or suggestions to lift up his sniper mask. Some of them caught him off guard, to the point he almost did it if not for his logical mind. But some of them were downright ridiculous, that he couldn't help but snort.

Maybe you already accepted it from the start, that he would never give in, but it had become a harmless jest at this point, so you might as well keep it going.

Until he gives you permission.

The thing is, it doesn't make you happy—it scares you to death instead. He once bit off someone's finger when they poked it in the place they shouldn't have touched. So what's behind the mask couldn't be worth the pain.

At first, you thought of it as a warning. Yet he wasn't showing any signs of threat. He even pulled you closer, so you'd get a better view of him.

His mask stays on, but he lets you touch his face. Your hands hover an inch away from his veiled visage, before you test the water with a touch.

He doesn't flinch away, or charge at you like a venomous snake. He stays still, letting your hands cup his cheeks.

"Didn't you say you wanna feel my face?" He said as he brought you closer, causing a shiver down on your spine.

"I did," Your lips trembled slightly, "I'm doing it."

"You're not doing it right." He tugged your paralyzed hands onto his chest.

You're confused when he firmly grips both of your hands, before slowly sliding them under the hem of his hood.

"Inside, maus." He commanded you, "Tell me what you feel."

And so, you complied.

You reach into his mask, and touch his neck tentatively. For a brief moment, his muscles tense under your fingertips, before they come down relaxed.

"Oh." You murmured as you pressed your palm onto his nape, "You can certainly survive a fighter jet ride."

He doesn't give you any response, so you take it as a cue to continue.

Your hands creep up higher, until your fingers reach the soft bones of his ears. They seem small in your grasp, smaller than they should, for a man of his height. A quiet smile spreads in your lips, as you imagine the tiny shells that frame both sides of his face.

"I'm surprised you have clear skin." You commented when you caressed his cheek, feeling the texture of his skin, "I thought you'd have a problem with it since you always wore a mask."

"Not always." He replied, nudging you to roam further, "I took it off whenever I'm alone."

"Did you take care of it?"

"No."

"How unfair." You chuckled, "I want to have your skin."

He keeps his eyes on you, and you feel the need to clear your throat, before you trace the lines on his face.

"You have a big nose." You mused as you ran your finger down from the bridge of his nose, "It's crooked."

He hums, while his eyes follow your uncertain gaze.

"Why you stopped?" He called you out, and you jumped upon hearing them, "There's one place you haven't touched."

You bit your lips, trembling, as you lowered your hand, until you felt the soft lumps on your fingertips.

They form a thin line, before they split open, inviting your finger inside. Your breathing becomes labored, as he takes a hold on your hand, guiding your thumb into his mouth.

He doesn't break eye contact the whole time, and you're too paralyzed to look away. You feel the sharpness of his teeth as his lips are closing around your digit. You have anticipated the guillotine falling on the head of your thumb, yet what comes after is a soft brush of his tongue.

It was rough, and drenched with his saliva, that it formed a string at the time your thumb left his mouth.

"König—" You gasped when he dragged his lips down to your palm, before stopping on your wrist. Pressing his tongue on your pulse point, where the skin barrier is so thin, that it feels as if he's tasting your flesh.

"Scared, maus?" He muttered, his teeth scraped against your skin, "Are you scared of me?"

You stare at him, as your instinct screams at you to nod. But you shake your head, despite the tremble in your hands.

"Then you'll do as I say." He wraps his arm around your waist, leaving no room for you to run, "Take off my mask."

Your eyes widened, not believing what you just heard from his mouth. Alas, his glare is enough to confirm the truth.

He guides your hands to his mask, pushing it up in a manner that's close to unveiling a white cover. And once the mask is lifted, you have no time to admire him as he slams his lips against yours.

Your cry of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, as he pushes his tongue between your lips. You can't do anything but cling to him, as he presses your body down with his, until your back is flush against the cushion.

When you open your eyes, what greets you is a pair of eclipses. Gone was the cruel Colonel, as he's replaced by a voracious brute.

The moment he opens his mouth, you know you'll be devoured by him.

#i wrote 2 konig fics in one day there's something wrong with me #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #konig x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #konig mw2 #is this cannibal core?#idk girl #yandere konig #there's something about fingers in a mouth...........#i'm normal i swear #I've fixed the 3rd person pov. just noticed it now. oopsie my bad

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bluemoonyx · 1 year

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I might seem cold

looking from afar to people my age

What a life do they have

parties, alcohol, lots of girlfriends

talking about trends and expensive shit

Get off the street! they tell me