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queenie-the-court-jester · 1 month

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Cult of the sacrificial lamb ♡

a/n: there is no actual lamb cult, I just like the title 😭 nsfw, mentioning their cock and titty sizes lmao

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★poka and juniper the Valais black nose's: the twins are inseparable. You need to bathe one but it's not the other's bath time yet? Suck it up then, 'cause they're both going in the tub now. No guarantee you won't get splashed with water. Poka is colorblind, and juniper is.. interesting. Who knows what's wrong her. The only way you can tell the difference between them is through their eyes. Who's blind and who isn't.

Physical appearance: they're both dark skinned with loosely curly black hair. At this point you should give them a haircut. Juniper has green eyes and poka has blue eyes. Juniper is 130 lbs, while poka is 120 lbs. (Juni's packing some pretty big milkers, DD cup bra. Poka got a 6 incher) 5'5

★violet the harri: violet is a little violent. Her name suits her. Kinda. You could be busy doing your chores and she'd tackle whoever decided to come within a 15 foot radius of your location. She likes to bite too, they out multiple muzzles on her only for her to chew through them. She's only ever docile with you, kinda. Just ignore the multiple bite marks around your arms.

Physical appearance: B cup, 140lbs, white long hair, pale as fuck, and violet eyes, 5'3

★azucar the Columbia sheep: I was hesitant to put azucar here since she's 17, legally a minor. I won't do any nsfw content with her because it makes me uncomfy. She can be the sweetest hybrid you ever met or the meanest. No in-between. Her moods flip like a light switch, unpredictable. She'll cuss you out in Spanish and then t-bag you. Talk about a hormonal teenager

Physical appearance: c cup, 137 lbs, curly white hair, pale skin, black eyes, 5'4

★wehrner the American black belly: he has daddy vibes, like he could bend you over his knee and spank your ass because you didn't address him as 'sir'. Bastard. You often catch him shamelessly fapping behind a tree in the fields, even when you freeze and stare at his impressive dick he doesn't stop, instead, inviting you to join him. And that's the story of how he got the cone of shame.

Appearance: 8 incher, 150 lbs, 5'7, long black and brown hair, grey eyes, peach skin, large horns curled around his ears

★Sally the angora goat: 'it's earthworm Sally! Carrying diseases from Florida to Cali!' That is her theme song fr. She's been fooling around with the neighboring farm's ram's so much you doubt she isn't carrying a couple STDs and maybe rabies too. Although she is very bubbly and cheerful, she just starts so much unnecessary drama with the other animals

Appearance: curly long white hair, pale skin, red eyes, D cup, 120 lbs, 5'6

★opal the Tennessee fainting goat: she's so tiny, and mean. She bit your ass and chest so many times you're always looking around your surroundings before entering the fields. Although recently you discovered a rather popular way to stun her and run away

Appearance: black straight hair (I bet she has split ends), peach colored skin, tiny horns on her head, 90 lbs, 4'10, A cup

★sasha the Australian cashmere goat: Sasha is quiet and stoic, but she doesn't hesitate to step in Incase somebody wants to start a fight. She's Kim's second favorite female (you're the first ofcourse)

Appearance: fluffy platinum blonde hair, pale skin, black eyes, small horns sprout from her head, B cup, 152 lbs, 5'9

★kim the dutch landrace goat: Kim can either be your angle or your debil. Yes that misspelling was intentional. More than once has he tried humping you, even convincing the girls to try and help him, except you keep running away. STOP RUNNING AWAY. Is it so bad he wants to impregnate you with his children!?

Appearance: long silky black-blond hair, bro is ripped, large horns curl around his head, 160 lbs, 5'11, 7 incher

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midnight-moth · 6 days

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I threw this in Comet’s ask box for comfort ghoul thoughts a little while ago but it is pretty much my Zeph characterization. I guess I rambled about Ifrit a lot more.

560 words no big CWs just Zeph in pain and Ifrit and Omega hunting him down and forcing him to accept help.

His joints very angry, and very swollen. His thumb is practically locked in place, as though the cartilage cushioning his bones has dissolved and his fingers are fused in the 36251 progression position.

He doesn’t play nearly as much as he used to. Only Sundays, forgoing the weekday morning and evening mass. He isn’t that pious. But the weak heat being pumped into that old building seems to be desperate to escape the cracks in the vaulted ceiling as soon as it’s released.

Ever the stoic ghoul, he never complains. He just retreats to his quarters and soaks his aching hands in hot water, massages salves made by Ivy into his skin.

He thinks no one notices. But his pack would notice a single hair on his head out of place, and they certainly notice the way his spine favors leaning to the left when he plays, and the way his hand shakes when he grips his fork at dinner.

This particular Sunday was the coldest yet. He could be seen shivering in between psalms. And most shocking, his timing was off. Maybe not to the pedestrian ear of the siblings, but certainly to the trained ones of Ifrit and Omega.

As soon as his part in the service was complete he snuck away through the concealed door normally reserved for Sister and Papa.

He would’ve ran to his room, if he was capable of more than anything but a lopsided hobble.

He told himself he wasn’t going to break but as soon as he closed the door, ever so softly as if he didn’t even want to alert the mice to his presence, he slumped against it and the dam broke.

They were right. He just needed to stop. Or at least he would, if he continued to politely balk at the help offered.

Before his body could touch the ground, he found himself being lifted back up by two sets of strong arms. Arms belonging to Ifrit and Omega.

“Oh, I’m fine - “ the countenance of bravery was essentially transparent and he was hushed with a single finger to his lips.

“Not now, we can talk later. Let us take care of you.”

He wasn’t sure if it was defeat or surrender, but he just let them.

Let Ifrit force warmth into his body, let Omega pull the pain away, offering soft grunts of concern at the sheer amount of it. Omega himself would need to be cleansed after this.

As they continued their ministrations, he felt some mobility return to his hands, he was able to straighten his spine where he lay in the warm cove of Ifrit’s chest.

He gave his fingers an exploratory wiggle, and if he were sobbing from pain before, now he was sobbing from relief. He forgot what the absence of pain felt like, had become the default.

“Thank you,” two small words that meant something big when it came to Zephyr, at least when it came to this. This acknowledgment that he needed their help. He needed them.

“Think nothing of it, until next time, when you need not wait until we all have to watch you suffer, and force ourselves on you.” Omega’s lecture sounded severe, but he lighted the mood when he gave Zeph a peck on the cheek.

For good measure, Ifrit added, “Yeah, you stubborn old goat.”

#he just doesn’t like being seen as weak #and he doesn’t want to be a burden #and he is just straight up stubborn #but ifrit is relentless #and most of the time he can pretend he just wants to cuddle #zephrit #also Omega #zephyr ghoul #Ifrit ghoul #omega ghoul #nameless ghouls #midnight moth writes

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fandom-puff · 2 years

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I'm constantly switching between thoughts about those three men whenever I'm thinking of Westeros. I just can't decide between being cuddled and protected by Sandor, him just treating you like a fragile little kitten he needs to take care of, or being Lady Lannister and having one of the most powerful and stoic men wrapped around my finger, being his Lady wife and royally pissing off Cersei. On the other hand though, riding Ned in front of a fire sounds great too. 👉👈

Omg 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I went a liiiiitle bit overboard. There’s some reference to smut but nothing too explicit.

Living a peaceful life in the country with Sandor, far far away from the political cess pit of the capital. Raising chicken, maybe a cow or goat, travelling for miles on Stranger to trade goods with other farmers. Perhaps raising a few children of your own, or a dog or two… or both. Peaceful and rustic, without having to worry about saying the wrong thing or making a misstep in court. Not being a Ser and a Lady… just being Sandor and YN

Entering an arranged marriage to a man old enough to be your father, or even grandfather. Stepping into Casterly Rock or the tower of the hand as a meek as a kitten, afraid of the power your new husband (and his adult children) wield. Your marriage beginning with dutiful formality; a hand tucked into the crook of his elbow during walks; murmurs of ‘Lord Husband’ and ‘Lady Wife’; occasional late night visits to your chambers, for the purpose of procreation. But a frightened little kitten has no place at court, or the Rock. So Tywin has handmaidens and squires present you with bolts of rich red velvet, regal gold brocade, delicate lace imported from the Free Cities. He sends tailors to fit you with gowns more befitting of a noble lady rather than a maiden, Smithies to fashion intricate metalwork like belts and pendants, jewellers to craft stunning pieces with the rubies and gold that represent House Lannister. He has you meet with the Castellan of the Rock, the Maester, the cooks, the blacksmiths- all to teach you how to run Casterly Rock in his absence. He hosts meetings with the vassal houses of the West to ensure they respect you. To disrespect the lady of Casterly Rock is to insult Lord Lannister himself. What starts as a formal, cordial arranged marriage soon turns into Tywin fashioning you into Lady Lannister- not a trophy wife to sit pretty and sew, but a political force to work in tandem with him, slowly earning the respect of the Old Lion of Lannister.

Marrying Eddard Stark (because his honour would not allow him to take a mistress) after the death of Catelyn Tully. Initially your role is to run winterfell while Ned runs the North, and to see to it that the five stark children have a maternal figure to aid them through their grief. He won’t even share your bed for the first few months of marriage, and even then, the consummation was brief, done out of necessity to the gods to legitimise the marriage. But as the frigid winter sets in and the farmers leave their fields for the warmth of their homes, you and Ned spend more and more time in one another’s company. In silence, but nonetheless together. As the months pass, Ned’s grief begins to fade as he watches you with his children. Robb turns to you for advice and reassurance, the burden of being the heir hanging over him; Sansa begins to follow your every move, learning the ways of being a noble lady as she matures; Arya likes you, because you let her run around with her brothers, and had promised to teach her about the dragons of Old Valeria; Bran is keen to show you how high he can climb, and he enjoys the stories you and Old Nan make up; young Rickon enjoys your company, nuzzling to your breast when he is tired. Even Jon Snow seems at ease around you, and the bastard of Winterfell is allowed to sit at the high table with the rest of the Starks. Seeing you with his children awakens something in Ned. He realises your commitment to House Stark, despite being closer to Robb’s age than his. He begins to invite you to his chambers at night, to share hot ale and talk in front of the fire, or to read in comfortable silence. Months of waiting and restraint comes to a head when a gentle, dutiful kiss Goodnight just outside his door descends into one of passion and longing, and passing squires and servants watch in knowing amusement as Ned gathers you in his arms, his cloak enveloping you and guides you back into his rooms, kicking the door shut. You make love that night, on the thick fur skins on the floor in front of the fire, and afterwards you lay, entwined with one another as the warm orange of the flames bathes your naked skin in its glow. As the dull ache of his passion begins to bloom in your muscles, he helps you up and guides you to bed. Within minutes he has you again, and as you nuzzle into his side, fast asleep, he sighs softly, rubbing your hip, his fingers tracing over your belly. Perhaps his seed will take root in your womb. He has five children already, but he would like some with you. You deserve children of your own, and with winter coming, survival of the young is not always guaranteed.

#game of thrones #game of thrones headcanons #Tywin Lannister x reader #Sandor Clegane x reader #ned stark x reader #eddard stark x reader #got headcanons #Tywin Lannister headcanons #sandor clegane headcanons #Ned stark headcanons

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the-stoic-goat · 5 months

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#epictetus quote #goats and quotes #the stoic goat #stoicism #write

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kikker-oma · 4 months

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short fanfic? Yes!

Christmas theme? Yes!

“Wake your a**es up losers!” Wind’s voice rang through the ranch, “It’s Christmas!!”

Time rubbed his eyes and gazed at the clock. “4:00am? Seriously Wind?” He groaned and sat up. Even his wife, Malon, the strongest girl he could ever know, was still asleep.

“Wind, let’s settle down. It’s still early you know.” Warriors tried to coax the teen back to bed. Less for Wind but more for the ever waning patience.

“Nah, I want presents.”

“…Of course you do.”

Surprisingly, Four was the first one to open up his present. Beneath the red rapping paper, a beautifully crafted iron hammer, with faint beautiful markings throughout the tool, stood in his possession. “I needed a new one for quite some time… thanks guys!”

“that’s for work?? I thought it’s used to smash pots!”

“LEGEND.”

Wind was next. He basically stripped the present raw in… two seconds flat. “MONEH! I’M RICH!” The pirate yelled.

“But those are seashells?”

“I can sell seashells by the seashore.”

Twilight carefully unwrapped his gift. His fingers curled around a saddle, worn down and scratched on the edges, but filled with love.

“You know, it used to be our old girls,” Malon looked through the window to the barn ahead, “But it’s not much use to us now that she’s settling down, it’ll be much more use to you.”

That is when the couple learned great-great-great-great-great grandsons give the best hugs.

Hyrule gazed at the new pair of boots in his arms. “Woah… these are wonderful. Are you sure they are for me?”

“Knew a shoemaker once, trust me, they’ll make you run faster than ever before.” Four winked.

Hyrule gave at LEAST 20 continuous thank yous for the rest of the evening.

Legend tried to keep a stoic demeanor as he unwrapped his gift. “Romeo and Juliet? Isn’t that romance?”

“Come on, we all know you’re all for it.” Warriors smirked.

“Shut up… but thanks I guess.”

Wild ran his fingers through the embroidery scarf. “This looks stunning, who made this?”

“I did! Skyloft was pretty cold, from being in the sky and stuff, so I decided to pick one of our most famous fabrics. The embroidery was all mine though, and I’m sure it will help keep you warm for the winter months.” Sky smiled kindly.

“Will you fix it if I tear it?”

“Already have 17 backups.”

Warriors, surprisingly clad in actual clothes (not to mention his hair is perfectly brushed? Did he even go to bed?) unwrapped his gift with precision.

“A mirror? You know me so well!” He smiled, knowing the captain, this will sure come to great use.

“That’s not all,” Time smiled, “Crafted straight from the lava of Death Mountain, its sturdy for the road.”

“You really put in that much thought for me?”

“Of course son, you deserve it.”

“Careful, this one’s fragile.” Malon smiled as she handed Sky a gift wrapped in cloth.

Sky carefully unraveled the cloth to reveal a tiny, but familiar bird. He heard its name before. Clucko? No… right! It was a cucco.

“I love it! It’s so cute!”

“We are letting you keep it as long as it doesn’t come in contact with anybody in any way.” Legend grumbled.

“Darling, this one’s for you.” Malon handed Time a carefully wrapped present. Time’s fingers slowly pealed away the wrapping paper, and softness immediately enveloped his finger.

9 crochet squares, all sewn together.

A deception of a forge, intense yet pulling things together.

A vast ocean, and a red boat riding the waves.

A goat, with beautiful horns resembling Ordon.

A map, holding a sense of adventure.

A flower, holding a sort of dream like resemblance.

A sheikah crest, holding symbolism and order.

Swords and shields, crashing together yet have some sense of balance to them.

Islands floating in a vast open sky, with giant loft wings circling around.

In the middle of it all,

Home. The ranch. In the center stood a beautifully crocheted deception of Time and Malon, yet they weren’t the only people in this art. 8 other boys stood around, holding a resemblance of courage.

“Merry Christmas, old man!” The eight boys smiled in unison.

This would be a Christmas Time could never forget.

Yeah this didn’t turn out short LOL

🥹🥹🥹

Awwee this was so CUTE!!!

Each of those gifts is precious (even winds pun with the seashells lol) and Times blanket with all of the squares representing the boys is

Thank you for writing this and Merry Christmas!!!

#sweet blarefordaglare #fics for oma

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kiisaes · 2 years

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the thing about deku is that dudebros hate him until he's doing something stereotypically GOAT-worthy like acting like a badass and evading the law and not letting his emotions slip through and it's like... yes. he did do that. he does do that. and that's probably why dudebros latch onto him nowadays because they want to be him, especially because so many of them think that deku and ochako and/or other female characters are destined to be together (through entirely shallow reasons) — but they miss the point.

his inability, or rather his lack of desire to, unlock deeper, more vulnerable, more selfish emotions is not because he's the so-called GOAT, the pinnacle of the sigma grindset bullshit masculinity by hiding his feelings and getting results in an edgy, emotionally unavailable way. no. it's because he cares too much, not too little. he cares so strongly, so aggressively, so softly, so painfully, for the people around him. he's the idealistic version of a hero because he cares, more than anyone, to the point where he'll break his body to pieces. and he projects those emotions outward so much, he doesn't leave any of that care for himself. he chooses not to address selfish thoughts and moments because he's not the one who deserves them. which is why even when he was in his super edgy, dark vigilante look, he was motivated not by anything superficial like money or success, but his own powerful feelings towards helping others. deku is, through and through, a deconstruction of the stoic, apathetic, violence-familiar, strictly goal-oriented view of toxic masculinity. he fights and kicks villain butt because he cares. he also cries and breaks down and smiles and loves with all the warmth in his heart because he cares.

and i think it's really funny that even when deku is "the GOAT" for his surface level grindset outlook, he's still just deku. the deku dudebros would complain about for crying too much and being a wimp is the same deku as the one who selflessly defeated villains during his vigilante era. he didn't "man up" and do a total 180 mentally, he just happens to have layers to his emotional ineptitude. it fucking rocks. not like dudebros would have the brain capacity to understand that, though

#just deku thoughts #i love him very much is what i'm trying to say. i love how his emotions are his strongest feature #and also his biggest weakness #and i feel like he struggles to find the balance between caring too much and the consequences of caring too much #so he kinda shuts down his own thoughts relating to himself #aka he has very low self esteem in my opinion. man does not take himself into account #ANYWAY does this make sense? i hope it makes sense. i'm so fucking tired. life is kicking me in the balls #bnha #mha #midoriya izuku #becki rambles about stuff

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queenpiranhadon · 14 days

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ꗃ ⎸⎸ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 ⎸⎸ ꗃ

A/N: Lmao this was directly copied and pasted from a text rant w/ the tolerable @labaguetteisdabest 🤪 Here's my masterlist! Dividers made by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): Depression, mentions of adoption, PJO x Inheritance Games crossover AU

Pairing(s): None :)

Okay okay hear me out- Grayson as a demigod.

Grayson Hawthorne is minding his business, being his imperial stoic self when he uncovers something interesting in Avery’s/ Tobias’s office.

He finds adoption papers. With his name under it.

And he starts freaking out- he’s clearly distraught- that meant he was never a Hawthorne in the first place, is that why Tobias made Avery heir??

And then he comes to the cold realization that if he’s adopted- then his family isn’t even his real family at all.

And his broken by this- coming to the realization that nothing is fully his, Nash, Jamie, Xan, Gigi, Sav- they’ve all only been half siblings- never biological siblings- and now they’re not even his siblings at all.

And so he ices out the world- isolating himself away from everyone, bunkering down in a five star hotel room that he hates with every fiber in his being because he doesn’t deserve it, it’s not his, it never was, he doesn’t belong.

And then he hears a knock on the door.

He opens it warily, only to see Gigi standing there, out of breath and clearly stressed.

“GRAY!” she says, her face flush and relieved, and he notices a clearly confused Savannah behind her.

“Can we come in? Please? We don’t have a lot of time.” Gigi says hurriedly, and barges her way into the room without asking permission, leaving both Gray and Sav extremely confused.

She huffs and sinks down onto the bed and opens her mouth to say something but then shuts it.

They stare at her for a few minutes, waiting for her to continue.

“So uh I have no idea how to tell you this but uh” she starts, fidgeting nervously, setting off all concern alarms in her siblings’ minds.

“So…I haven’t been very honest with the two of you…but Gray, Skye isn’t your real mom. Sav, Acacia isn’t either…” Gigi says, wincing at Sav’s horrified expression, but startles when she sees Gray’s normal one.

“…You already knew, didn’t you.” Gigi whispers, heart breaking as Gray nods without emotion. He wasn’t supposed to find out this way.

The man in question chuckles sourly, and nods “I found adoption papers in the old man’s office. Looks like I was never your brother to begin with.” he says his eyes turning watery for the first time in what seems years.

He scolds himself- Hawthornes don’t cry, they don’t show weakness. And then he remembered he wasn’t a Hawthorne anymore.

Gigi rushes to his side frantically, holding him by his shoulders and forcing him to look into his eyes. “We ARE related Gray- I said Skye wasn’t your mother, not that we don’t share a dad.”

Gray stares at Gigi dumbfounded, and then another question comes to light. “If Skye isn’t my mom, who is?”

Gigi glances at Savannah, who’s still reeling from the shock of the previously delivered news, and the former grabs her hand and squeezes it.

“You guys share one.” Gigi starts off, speaking slowly, treating them like glass.

“Have you guys…ever heard of the Greek gods?”

Gray and Sav nod slowly, unsure of where she’s going with this.

“They’re real.”

Sav recovers first, and chuckles nervously. “Geegs, if you’re religious that’s great- but I don’t see what that has to do with-“

“Sav you’re not listening.” Gigi cuts in. “Your mother is one of the gods.”

Gray and Sav stay still, unsure of what to say. They were people of science, they didn’t believe in God, or anything like that. But the look in Gigi’s eyes said that she knew what she was talking about.

For the first time in forever, Grayson Not-Hawthorne-But-Still-A-Hawthorne-Because-We-Call-Toby-A-Hawthorne was speechless.

No strategic silence- just simply shocked.

And then Gigi chuckles nervously. “And I’m part goat.”

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 1 month

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And a WIP Music Monday

Tagged by @thesingularityseries @direwombat @heroofshield @marivenah @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @g0dspeeed @cloudofbutterflies92 @voidika @simplegenius042 @carlosoliveiraa for either writing tags or music monday. Thank you all so much!! <3

Tagging: @strangefable @kyber-infinitygems @la-grosse-patate @josephseedismyfather @statichvm @clicheantagonist @amalkavian @justasmolbard @finding-comfort-in-rain @cassietrn

opt in/out for cod stuff

song first:

I am still stuck in my creative drought but at least I have a little bit of writing. Working slowly but surely on my cod prequel fic, so here's a bit from chapter 13. In this installment of WIP Wednesday, enjoy two assholes trapped in a helicopter suffering with awkward sexual tension aka just another work day for Price and Rory:

“You know Arabic, yeah? Fluent, I hope.”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest and adjusted her position in her seat, a grin curling the corner of her lips. “Perhaps this time I can have you saying derogatory things without your prior knowledge.”

Giving a low chuckle, he brought the cigar to his lips and took a long drag. “Now that would make things interestin’, wouldn’t it?” The smoke streamed past his lips, the orange glow burning in his eyes through the shade of his cap. “I’d prefer if we didn’t start any international incidents ‘cause you had to be a smart ass though.”

Huffing out a laugh, she pressed her head back against the rest behind her. “Fair enough. It’ll be easier just letting you blunder the pronunciation anyway.”

His brow lifted, giving her a sideways glance without turning his head, keeping her in his periphery. “You gonna keep causing me headaches?”

“No, I just think we need to agree that while Russia was where your strength lies, we’re heading into mine.”

Sucking on his cigar hanging in a clenched jaw, his brow furrowed. “You do remember I’ve fought over there myself, yeah?”

“But you didn’t spend your entire career there like me. Unless you’ve eaten goat by a fire while swapping stories with village elders in their native language, I suggest you take at least some of my judgment on things seriously. Or is it because I’m a subordinate that it’s not good enough for you?”

“S’pose it’s ‘cause you’ve slept with me,” he muttered under his breath, his face remaining serious until it cracked, giving her a teasing smirk.

Unable to help but giggle at the implication, Rory bit her lip to stifle it from growing into a full on laugh. “Okay,” she said, nodding slowly. “I see how we’re playing now.”

Price barked out a chuckle at her reaction, smugly shifting back into his seat.

“Fucking hell, you’ve become quite the comedian with me.” Her voice dropped so only he could hear it. “You get one little kiss and now all of a sudden the stoic soldier routine fades away, eh?”

“It was more than a little kiss –” He whispered as he leaned down towards her, looking up through his brow.

They were inches from each other, eyes locked on one another. Invading her personal space, trying to remain the dominant force, Price waited there as if he were expecting her to make a move despite being strapped into a moving military vehicle. The smoke coiled around her, his breath fanning against her face. Did he really think she would just break regulation like that? She cocked her brow and sighed, pulling out her pack of cigarettes from her tactical pants and tapped the corner of it against her thigh. “I said I just wanted to work, not be a distraction.”

“You’re not.” His words came out bluntly, his features cold once more, gaze unfeeling, unreadable. Shifting back into his seat, he crossed his arms and mirrored her position beside him. Mouth drawn tight, he bit down on the cigar he'd placed between his lips, smoke billowing from his nostrils.

“Oh, I’m not?”

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not. You and I have both been through the same training. A little flirting – any feelings we might have – they aren’t getting in the way of the mission.”

“Sure about that?”

“You do know you’re not the only woman I’ve ever worked with, yeah?”

She hummed, unconvinced. “Did you sleep with the others too?”

He growled softly, mumbling around his cigar, “Touche.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said confidently, slipping a cigarette out from the pack in her hand and placing it to her lips.

“I’m a professional, Sergeant. So are you,” he grumbled, “Stop trying your damn luck with me.”

The cigarette sat between her lips as she gave him a little salute with two fingers against her forehead, the lighter still held in her hand.

“You’re trouble, goddammit.” He shook his head and settled back in his seat, gripping the shoulders of his vest once more with a heavy sigh.

Her voice was muffled as she spoke around her cigarette bouncing on its perch upon her lip. “Bet you’re really regretting Laswell’s choice now, eh?”

“Not unless you give me a reason to, darlin’,” he said, nose scrunching with annoyance. “Don’t test my bloody patience.”

Taking a drag of her cigarette, she couldn’t help but want to keep picking at him. He had tried to make her feel small a moment ago, reminding her of her weakness, of how she apparently needed him according to his evaluation. “Did you think I was suddenly going to fawn over you because you actually admitted to having feelings for me, Price?”

The little tic of his tightening tendons in his jaw was plain as day, she was playing with fire and she knew it. If there was any way to describe the Captain it was a persistent pursuit predator – of course the way he worked would bleed into his life. The man wouldn’t know romance if it bit him in the arse, wooing certainly wasn’t his style. She already expected him to keep trying to wear her down until she would eventually give in, say yes, and he would get what he wanted. Perhaps what they both wanted…but she wasn’t able to quite so readily admit that yet.

“Would’ve been nice if you made it easy for me.”

“You’re a special forces captain, you like the challenge.”

Price brought a hand to her upper thigh, his long fingers clenching around the meat of her, squeezing tight. “Goddamn right I do,” he said with a low chuckle.

#wip wednesday #wip music monday #fic: all along the watchtower #ship: you are the sword to my shield #oc: rory sinclair #captain john price #Spotify

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ratsoh-writes · 2 months

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Alright! Three new side characters as promised!!

Juniper:

Juniper is a brown furred wolf monster from nomadtale! She has teal magic/eyes and stands at a modest 5’8. She’s especially fluffy on her neck and chest and is quite proud of her beautiful coat. She’s 144 years old.

Juniper of course as a nomad monster spends most of her time taking commissions for enchanted tools. She’s best working with sticks, leather and grasses. She is known for weaving baskets that can keep food warm or frozen on their own. On weekends she works at peppers salon as a nail tech.

She’s very open about her attraction to her boss, to peppers annoyance lol. This doesn’t keep juniper from dating others however, and treats the flirting as more of a game nowadays lol.

Juniper is a confident playful wolf who’s ears are always perked for some juicy gossip lol. She has trouble keeping her tail still, it’s always wagging. If it is still, she’s either tired, mad or very very hungry.

Things she loves: nail art, basket weaving, ice hockey, ice fishing, the snow, colorful vests, pepper lol

Devi Thorns:

Devi Thorns is a spunion from horror farm. She has an olive green skin and bright fiery red orange magic. When upright, she normally stands at 5’4 but can stretch her roots up enough to reach 6’3 and still be balanced. She is 98 years old.

Devi is a firefighter stationed in Goldenvalley. She and the other firefighters at her station cover a lot of ground, including the edges of the surrounding mountains, so they are always on alert. She’s worked a lot with partner when he’s reported various fires started in the country.

Devi is pretty straightforward and honest, but that’s mostly cause she just has no sense of sarcasm. She much prefers dad jokes as a sense of humor. She’s a bit innocent and doesn’t pick up on when others are being rude, or when they’re trying to flirt.

She’s terrified of raptors and despite partner trying to help her overcome it, Devi still hasn’t worked up the courage to pet sweet pea.

Things she loves: goat milk and cheese, long hoodie dresses, riding horses, fireworks, whittling, Smokey the bear lol

Argo pantheon:

Argo is a sky serpent from outertale of course. He has blue grey skin-scales and royal purple magic. He’s medium for his subspecies, only 13.2 feet long. He is one of the youngest sky serpents currently around at only 137 years old.

Argo works on captain and hooks ship as one of the crew. He is one of the offensive team in charge of jumping ship and taking chase after any criminals they spot. When not doing that, he helps keep up with ship maintenance and sometimes delivers packages to other nearby ships if it’s something small.

Argo is serious and stoic when on duty, but cheeky and goofy when off it. He’s the kind of guy who would let little kids crawl all over him, but if any tone deaf adult tries it, he bites a finger off. He likes his personal space bubble. Kids are the only exception since he likes their innocent honesty.

Argo is quite close to captain and is one of the crew mates who helps him wrangle the rest when they’re on shore. However captain doesn’t let Argo in the captains room anymore after Argo and the ships kids decided to sneak in and prank him by leaving sticky notes over every surface of the room.

Things he loves: being the fun uncle on the ship lol, anything teriyaki, spear fishing, watching thunderstorms, playing chess, wrestling.

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #worldbuilding #ratsohart #outertale #nomadtale #horrorfarm

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firegoddess96 · 11 months

Text

Bean duine briste

(Wife of a Broken Man)

Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser x Female OC

*I own only the OC, all other characters belong to the creators of Outlander*

Summery:

Having served with Claire as a nurse in WWII, Isla went with Claire and Frank to Scotland to see her mother’s home country. Her aunt Mrs.Baird told her stories of the stones and both Isla and Claire went to see for themselves the magic of the place. Neither expected to be transported 200 years into the past, nor did they expect to fall for rough and ruggedly handsome highlanders.

Will the women get back to their time and the loved ones they left behind, or will they fall too deeply into the strong arms of our favorite Fraser men?

18+ to Read!! (There will be smut down the road!)

Chapter 1:

One the road Claire and Isla traveled from village to village with the rent party. Slowly it dawned on the women that the men they were accompanying were more than just rent collectors, they were in fact Jacobites, supporters of the Stuart prince across the sea.

Night after night Dougal made a show of ripping off Jamie’s shirt to use his scars for their cause, horrifying Isla more that Claire, as she had never seen these scars and wasn’t told the story of his whipping. That first night when Dougal threw the shirt at Claire to mend and she fought him, Isla grabbed it and mended it instead without saying a word. Murtagh was grateful for her kindness and often started to show her small acts of kindness as thanks, after all, Jamie was the man’s heart and soul. So any act towards Jamie affected him greatly.

Every night throughout their journey Isla would mend the torn shirt and find small gifts the next morning. One day it was a few ripe apples and pears, another morning she found a bushel of heather flowers next to her pillow. It wasn’t until one morning, when she woke up to the smell of roasting meat, that she realized who was leaving these sweet gifts. Murtagh finished roasting the freshly caught duck and plated the bird just for her, finally thanking her verbally for the kindness and compassion she was showing his godson. He told her about the incident back at Lallybroch, the attack on young Jenny, the whipping, and the consequent death of Jamie’s father at the sight of it. Isla understood a little more of the stoic and quiet man after he shared the story, she realized the man held a strong love and loyalty to the young man who he followed everywhere.

They all continued their travels for a few more weeks, Claire tending to minor wounds with Isla’s help. Isla continued to mend the shirt when it was torn, and Murtagh spent more time with Isla, sharing meals and stories, until the day the English officer showed up at one of the villages. Claire had gotten drunk with some of the local wives and had made a scene trying to steal a goat back from the rents to help a mother feed her baby. And that was how Dougal arrived with Claire and Isla in the company of British officers telling stories of how they came to Scotland, planning their journey home. A plan cut short by the appearance of Black Jack himself.

Once again attacked by the vicious man, Claire being almost assaulted again, and Isla bruised and concussed. Dougal stormed in and took them away, stopping at a stream to make the women drink from a foul smelling river. Isla recognized it as the truth river, lies were said to burn the throat once one drinks from the stream. They both drank and both told him that they were not spies and simply came here by accident. Dougal, finally believing them, told them the only solution he could think of for their current predicament, for the two woman to marry Scotsmen and become Scottish citizens.

Back at the camp the other men are made aware of what happened….

“So, I have made up my mind about Mrs, Beauchamp, Jamie you will marry the lass. She’s a good woman, smart and Bonnie. And I ken ye are fond of the lass.” Dougal told Jamie, causing a blush to form on his face and the teasing laughs from the other men as they had all seen his interest in her.

“As for Ms Burns…” Dougal starts “I’ll marry the lass” Murtagh interrupts, staring expressionless at the chieftain.

“Will ye now? Well, I guess that will do fine, if the lass will have ye.” Surprised that the stoic man would take an interest in marrying a woman, after all, he had see murtagh fawn over his sister Ellen for years. It was hard to imagine another capturing his heart in the same way.

Across the field Claire and Isla sat discussing the new turn their lives were about to take.

“I feel like I am betraying Frank.” Isla’s heart broke for Claire, she had after all met frank and knew of the love they had shared. But it was looking more and more like they would never make it home to their own time. Isla knew that living in the past meant that they needed protection, and the only way to get that now was a husband. Isla had also seen the glances shared by Claire and her soon to be husband, knew that they could grow to love one another and be happy, which is all she wanted for her friend.

“Claire, Jamie is a kind and caring man, he would never hurt you and he’d continue to protect you. I know you love Frank, and he loves you, which is why he would understand. Frank researched this time, it was his specialty, and he would understand that the only way for you to stay alive and safe is to marry someone else. The man would move heaven and earth to keep you safe, he would want this for you.”

“What about you? You never mentioned anyone, is there someone you had back home? A man waiting for you?”

“God no! I’ve actually never been in a serious relationship, I’ve had the odd date here and there, but it never really went anywhere. None of them struck that spark, you know?”

“I do. Do you know who Dougal picked for you by chance? I didn’t hear him say.”

“No, he didn’t. At least you already know who you’re husband is going to be. And you know what to expect, I’ve never been with a man intimately, and now I don’t even know who I will be expected to sleep with.” A blush rose in her cheeks at the thought of a certain rugged highlander in her bed.

A silence lulled between the women, which shortly after was interrupted by Jamie and Murtagh walking towards them across the field.

“May I have a word lass?” Murtagh’s asked Isla causing her blush to deepen.

“Of course, I’ll talk to you later Claire.” She followed Murtagh into the near by woods, heart racing trying to keep her emotions and hopes in check.

“What is it Murtagh? Is something wrong? Did Jamie not agree to marry…”

“No lass, it’s not about that. Jamie will marry Claire, he agrees tis a good match. And he is ver’a fond of the lass.” He cleared his throat and stared fidgeting with his hands nervously.

“What’s wrong Murtagh?”

“It’s actually yer predicament which I wished to discuss Ms Burns.” Her brows creased questioningly at the sudden formality. “I wish to offer my hand as the solution to your problem. If ye would have me, I’d me honored to have ye as my bride.” A blush rose on his face so deep it was vibrant through his dark beard.

“Why are you offering Murtagh? Not that It is an unwelcome offer, quite the opposite actually.” His eyes widen in shock, believing that she would reject his offer, “But I will not say yes if you are doing this purely for kindness, like all the gifts you have given me.” Isla felt like she had just put her foot in her mouth and ruined her chance of getting the man she wanted, but she needed to know that he was choosing her for the right reasons.

“Isla, lass, have ye not realized? I have wanted ye since the night I first saw ye. “He grabs her chin and makes her look him in the eye. “Bonnie thing, with curves in all the right places, with that giant backside pressed right against me rocking the whole ride home” he growls stirring something in her. “Mind ye, it’s not just yer body I want, no lass, ye have made me want yer heart as ye have clearly stolen away wi’ mine. Yer kindness, to even the most cruel and distant of strangers. That someone would heal her captures and help a man w’out asking of his past.” His rough hand caresses her cheek as her eyes stared at him, with pure love and adoration, tear up at his sudden declarations.

“Isla, If ye will have me, I will protect ye and love ye, as I ne’er thought I’d love again. If ye say yes, ye will have all o’ me. What do ye say lass?” His eyes travel from her eyes to her lips, waiting for her answer. She leans in to him, like magnets they come together, their lips barely touching.

“Yes” he crushes her body to him as he passionately kisses her. She responds in kind one hand on his neck, the other combing up into his hair pulling him closer still. His hands wander along her curves, on her lower back in an attempt to bring her closer yet, while his other hand traveled further south over her hip and cupping her buttock firmly, causing a yelp which he happily devoured from her lips.

Reluctantly he pulled himself away, laughing at her lips chasing his. A blush deepening to a vibrant rose on her cheeks and a glazed look in her eyes.

“Dinna fash lass, ye will get more soon. But ye will be mine when ye do, and ye will no’ be leaving my side once ye are.” Murtagh whispers in her ear making her shiver and clench her thighs. Her response didn’t escape his notice, and his eyes darkened with lust at just how responsive his little bunny really was.

“Let’s get back to everyone and plan the joint ceremony, shall we lass?” Isla nodded and followed Murtagh back towards the clearing when they planned a joint ceremony with Jamie, Claire hiding somewhere until she had to be married the next day.

See you at the wedding….

#murtagh fitzgibbons fraser #murtagh x reader #murtagh #fergus fraser #jamie fraser #claire fraser #james alexander malcolm mackenzie fraser #outlander

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