#and like that's not bad on its own but damn if you only consume whatever for one reason then you're only gonna get one reading out of it

[freakyfrye]

ᝰ. coworkers. friends? lovers ♡

requested: vox x fem! reader, what if the reader got shot during the extermination and vox found them (but I tweaked it), injured prompt: “Steady, steady. That’s it. Just hold on to me. Good girl.”

type: headcanon/scenario

content: friends w/ benefits or situationship (up to interpretation, could go either way), soft/protective vox, blood, wound treating, vulnerable vox

note: this is not edited or proof read, so typos expected

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Heaven has the biggest balls to shorten a once a year of getting fucking hacked down into two giant fucks yous. Screw hell, right?

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Everyone had six months to prepare for this shit show of an excuse to massacre sinners, orchestrated by literal serial killer angels because let’s call them what they are sera, please. But you, of course, are running a little behind to get outta dodge.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Just because a large percentage of its habitants were literally dying by angels does not mean business just stops. Power doesn’t stop for no one, not even this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི If you don't show up and do your job, you’ll never hear the end of it—especially not from Vox. Given he was your boss, that was what he was entitled to do. But that didn’t make it any better knowing that he gets to sit with the vees in one of their fancy penthouses while this all goes down and you're stuck finishing up some quotas.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Even as you complete your duties, Vox is texting you nonstop. It’s a little all over the place for someone like him: calling you good girl for your job well done, telling you to get to cover real soon, that you better not stop texting him, text him back when you get somewhere safe, yada yada yada.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Serves you right for fucking him one time…six times. Alright, you lost count. It was a complete accident—the first time. You were having a really stressful day. The day was starting to blur together after hearing some bad news. Before you knew it, your sucking faces with your boss after something he said made you frustrated, but in the best way. Now he thinks he’s entitled to your time even outside of work.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི After that, you’ve kinda been doing it whenever stress overwhelmed you, which was often. Sometimes you’re convinced in thinking Vox piles a crap load of work onto you just to have you ride him silly during your break in his office.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You scoff at his behavior with an eye roll, darting into an alleyway, a shortcut to your hiding space before shooting him a curt text back. Mainly outta respect for yourself and your sanity, you try to keep it as close to professional as possible but it was hard when he pulls dumb crap like this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Pausing briefly in the shadows, you spot an angel causing havoc in the area before flying away. You quickly slip across the street, through the main entrance of the building and up to one apartment you call your own. Only when you lock all possible locks and shut your blinds, do you feel relaxed enough to lean back against the kitchen window seat to text Vox, letting him know you're safe.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Never did you expect to find your window to shatter seconds later, an angel spear stabbed into your thigh. The pain was instantaneous, you want to cry out but you slam your hand over your mouth to muffle your screams as your eyes darts out the window, petrified to see that angel from earlier fighting someone right outside.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You drop to the floor, losing your phone in the process as you crawl yourself away from the window, whimpering pathetically to the bathroom to lock yourself inside and hide there until the extermination ends. There was so much blood already lost, you could feel yourself grow weaker as you lean against the tube. Sleep consumed you a few minutes in.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི While unconscious, your phone was pinging back to back, texts from a very unhappy Vox. He told you to not stop texting him. To text him when you’re safe—he knows damn sure he did, for fuck, he was staring right at his words but for whatever fucking reason you didn’t listen. Why were you like this?

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི He couldn’t even pay attention to Alastor getting his ass handed to him, a historical moment, for his eyes were glued to his phone, waiting for those three dots to appear. When it didn’t show, he left the area for the security room, ignoring the Vees' questions.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Vox zaps his phone to a bigger screen, patience wearing thin when you still haven’t replied back during his short walk over. It was strumming the line of worry, something he hasn’t felt since he was alive, and it makes him sick. His stomach turns further when he can’t find you on any of the many cameras he has through the city.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You're forcing his hand as he opens a spyware app. He normally doesn’t have to do this, never had a reason until now. But you weren’t responding, and never had he known you not to respond to him. May it be one worded or a full rant reply, you always did.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Your location says home. That’s a little relief shaved off the top of his worries. You're safe; the part of town you live barely gets touched during any extermination. But there was always a chance, giving him enough cause to zap himself into your living room via tv.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Thank God he did show up when he did. He could see the shattered window inside your kitchen from his position, phone abandoned on the floor. Eyes noticing a trail of blood leading off into a direction. He follows it to the bathroom, where he bangs rapidly, calling out your name. Like the text messages, he receives no response.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི He knocks the hinges off your flimsy door with one shoulder slam, eyes widen in shock at seeing you there unconscious, spar still in your thigh. Cursing, he reaches down and checks your pulse, exhaling sharply when there is one and slaps your face to wake you up.

“Hey… wake up… open your eyes for me.” Vox slaps a little harder after the light taps weren’t working, pleased to see your (color) eyes peel open to lock with his, “Yeah. Keep them open for me, sweetheart.”

He shifts his weight to glance down at your thigh, contemplating his next move. He wasn’t a fucking doctor, he didn’t know how to tend to injuries this size—especially one from an angel—but it was either help you or let you bleed out and he couldn’t bring himself to do the latter. Not when he went out of his way to check on you. It’ll be a waste of his time.

He leans down further, grabbing your arm to wrap around his shoulders, “Steady, Steady.” he whispers, reaching under your legs to pick you up, another arm supporting your lower back. He nods when you fist his shirt, “That’s it. Just hold on to me.” he murmurs against your head when it rolls heavily to rest on his chest, “Good girl.”

Hoisting you both up so he’s standing at full height, he maneuvers his way around your place with trial and error until he finds your bedroom. Placing you gently on the bed, he rushes back to the bathroom, yanking open drawers and cabinets until he finds an unused first aid kit. He peels it open as he returns back to your room, swiping the half empty bottle of alcohol on your kitchen table on the way.

Your eyes practically pop out your head when he grabs the spear, Vox looking at with a gentle expectant expression, “Might wanna bite on to something?” is all he says before slowly pulling the spar out.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི The pain was worse than when it got forced in your thigh that you were shaking your head with pleas for him to stop, lip quivering as you held his wrist tightly. It hurt so much you weren’t thinking straight, couldn’t wrap your head around why he was doing this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You were pissing him off, with your stupid tears and pleading for him to stop and then actually grabbing onto him to stop him. Can’t you see he was trying to help you? That he cares enough to want to make you feel better? That it will get better if you just stop all your wailing.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི With a growl he slams his mouth into yours, eating up all the screams you release once he yanks out the spar in one pull. He moves his mouth against yours, only to distract you, only until your screams turn to whimpers. Then he’s pulling away, undoing his belt to wrap it around your thigh to stop the bleeding.

The alcohol doesn’t hurt as much when he pours it over your wound. By then you are already all cried out, reduced to sniffling as he wraps you in gauze and bandages. “I need a hospital..” you mutter, voice hoarse from the screaming. “I don’t want to die again.”

“Fuck. Fuck.” Vox curses, finishing his wrapping before moving to lie beside you, wrapping a protective arm around you, face serious as he says, “You don’t get one. Not right now, not until the extermination is over. I’m all you got. Okay?” his gaze softens a large degree at the worried expression on your face. He reaches up, guiding you to look at him by your chin, “Hey… you got me… I won’t let you die.” he says, pecking you on your lips as if to seal the deal.

rules, masterlist

[barleyo]

Pollen.

Recom! Miles Quaritch X Fem! Reader

A/N: I finished this is 3 hours, so this might seem a little rushed, but I am obsessed with this man in a life-consuming, unhealthy, scary way. I just feel the need to share the goings on of my mind with you all via my writing, so prepare for a LOT of Miles Quaritch posts. When I say a lot... I mean it.

(PART TWO IS OUT)

Wordcount: 1.4k

TAGS: Age difference, phone sex, public masturbation, solo fem and male masturbation, mutual masturbation, voice fetish, sex pollen, phone sex with a stranger, interspecies relationship

Solo missions were not uncommon for Miles. Any one-man job immediately went to him, as a colonel he could hold his own, however, the forests of Pandora were not kind to lone wolves. Everything and anything out in the wild posed a threat, animals and natives. Plants.

He was confident in his physical abilities, and even though he didn’t like to admit it, he was ignorant to the flora and fauna of this world, so in his mind, everything was blended together into a pool of danger and death. Any sound in the still forest was a red flag to him, any leaf crunching or branch shifting caught his attention. That’s why he was so quick to turn around when a loud rustling of leaves sounded behind him.

“Ha!” Quaritch turned around, gun held up in defense, ready to shoot. He held the gun steadily as the sound continued. He slowly brought his gun back into its proper place, strapped over his bare, azure shoulder.

Just as his guard fell, a small wisp of color lunged past him, knocking him onto the forest floor. He looked up, not seeing the creature, whatever it had been. Pushing himself up, he noticed that he had touched a mushroom-like plant. It was bioluminescent, and left a powdery dust on his palm.

“This fuckin’ place,” he sighed, wiping the white dust off onto his cargos. His face scrunched up in discomfort  as an itching sensation ticked at his hand. He scratched at it to no avail. The feeling built quickly from a small itch to a flaming burn. 

The heat spread from his hands to his arms, then to his chest, and soon coated his entire body. It felt as if he were submerged into a body of boiling water like he was being cooked, simmered and stewed in a pot.

“What was that shit?” He groaned, feeling the slick of his sweat drench through his shirt. Quaritch dug through his pant’s pockets and grabbed his walkie talkie, speaking into the front of it. “Colonel to Blue Team, over.” The line was dangerously quiet, the only sound being the fizzing of the radio. “Blue Team? Lyle?” He cursed, not receiving a response. “Forgot how bad the connection was on these things.”

He smacked the device, hoping it would offer him a clear connection. With his slicked palms, he dropped the walkie talkie, muttering profanities to himself. He snatched it and held it to his ear as a final pathetic attempt to connect to his team. “Hello? Anyone there, for God’s sake?” 

To his surprise, there was an answer. Not just any answer, but a soft, clear one.

“Hello? Hello, are you there? This is (Y/N).” 

He shuddered. From relief, maybe, but the warmth spreading to his crotch pointed towards arousal. It confused him, this wasn’t the first time he’d heard a voice as beautiful as this one, but instead of dwelling on it, he frantically spoke back. 

“Yeah, ‘m here, Colonel Miles Quaritch, over.” His mouth was dry and his tongue felt far too large,

“Colonel? Uhm, well, what has you tuned into the lab department’s line? Can I help you?”

Such a beautiful voice, even for a science puke, he thought. “Damn radio won't connect to my team line, but I’m out in the middle of nowhere in this God forsaken forest. I fell on some weird mushroom lookin’ thing and now I’m so itchy and sweaty that I can’t even fuckin’ think straight,” he said into the device, “Hell, I can barely walk. It’s starting to hurt too.” He stretched the fingers on his aching palm, trying to soothe it. It did not work and the pain only shot through the rest of his body, just as the itching and burning had as well.

“Oh, Mr. Quaritch, I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman replied, urgency in her voice, “can you tell me what this ‘mushroom’ looked like more specifically?” There was a twinge of excitement in her voice that pissed him off.

“What’s that gonna do? Damn it, can you just put me on with my team?”

“Please, calm down. If I can figure out what you have interacted with, I can tell you how to fix it.”

He sighed. “I already told you, it was like a mushroom. It left this weird powdery shit on my hand.”

“Powder? Oh my,” she sucked in a breath, “Colonel, I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to answer me. Are you, uh, are you–”

“Miss, can you spit it out already? I don’t have time for this, if you’ve forgotten, I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere and sweating buckets right now.”

“Are you hard right now? Your– your dick, is it hard?”

Quaritch swallowed thickly, feeling the bulge in his pants twitch again.

“Yes, really hard. What does that have to do with anything?”

“The plant that you had touched, it is known to release pollen that arouses one to an extreme, if you do not satisfy yourself soon, the pain will be unbearable.” Miles could hear panic in the woman’s voice and the click of a door as if it were being locked. “You understand, don’t you, Colonel?”

“It’s already awful.” A groan reverberated in his chest as he spoke, “So I’m supposed to jerk myself off in the middle of the forest, right in the open?”

“I’m afraid so, please you must start now, the pain will be much worse without stimulation.” 

He nodded, even though he knew she would not know and unbuttoned his pants, pulled his boxers down, and freed his dick. It was striped, just like the rest of his Na’vi body that he was slowly getting used to. 

Miles nervously grabbed his own length. This wasn’t the first time he had touched himself in his Na’vi form, it was second nature to him now, but this was the first time he had done it out in the open, and the first time he had done it with a woman talking him through it. 

He pumped slowly, fucking his fist. He couldn’t help but imagine his hand being the warm, tight cunt of the woman on the other line. A trembling moan strained from his mouth as he picked up the pace, seeking more friction in his palm. “(Y/N)--”

“I’m still here, sir, don’t worry,” she said, comfortingly.

His face flushed with a purple tint, not realizing she was still there. Obviously she was still on the line, it’s not like she could just leave, he rationalized it in his head. “It still hurts so bad, darlin’, fucking my hand ain’t helping,” he groaned.

“Just try, you must do it. You must cum, Colonel, please. Do it for me,” she whispered into the walkie talkie, embarrassed yet aroused by her own words.

“Fuck,” he hissed, sharp teeth barring down. “Need ya’ to touch yourself too, not fair if it’s only me.” Pre-cum oozed from his fat, leaky tip, beading at his hole.

“O-oh, I’m not sure..” her hands rested on the band of her panties, undecidedly fiddling with the elastic. 

“Can’t cum unless you do it with me, missy, c’mon, need it bad.” His hips bucked into his hand again, moans catching in his throat.

(Y/N) hummed and slipped her hand into her pants. She slid the tips of her fingers through her wet folds, rubbing past her clit with gentle strokes. Focusing on the peaked bud, she drew tight, neat circles over it and felt her thighs try to close over her hand. “Oh, Christ, Mr. Quaritch, it feels good, mm.”

“I know, sweet girl, I know. Tell me when you’re ready, wanna cum with you.”

Lazily slowing down, Miles gave (Y/N) a chance to catch up with him. When he could hear breathy, needy moans from the line, he continued at his earlier pace, slamming his hips into his hand. Her whines were sweet to his ears, he could practically smell her, taste her. He threw his head back and huffed. 

“Close, ‘m really close.”

“Gonna cum, baby girl? C’mon, cum like you’d cum all over my cock,” he rutted into his fist, feeling his balls tighten and stomach coil.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” she drawled out a messy, noisy moan, “Cummin’ now, sir, ah–”

“Good job, baby,” he said through gritted teeth as he spilled his seed on the ground, fucking himself through his fading orgasm.

There was a long, comfortable silence on each line as they each caught their breath. Miles was the one to break the silence. 

“Thank you for helping out, bunny, but it just wasn’t enough. Still hurting. Gonna help me when I get back to base?”

“Yes, sir. Let me find some proper directions so you can come home.”

“Be ready for me when I get there, I wanna see you as soon as I get there, girl.”

[catiecat1320]

Sonadowtober Prompt 4: Red and Blue

Direct continuation of Accident!

Shadow races to save Sonic, running into both a problem and a miracle

Read Below 🔽

Red light threw shadows on the walls, somehow making the atmosphere more tense than it should be. He hugged the hedgehog in his arms a little tighter, wishing he glowed any other color for once— red made it look like a horror movie, unsettling, like there could be a monster in the shadows. 

As if Gaia had decided to pity him, he turned what amounted to a corner in this natural maze to find glowing blue at the foreseeable end. Blue like Sonic, who breathed in awe at the sight, head lulling with the sway brought by Shadow’s skating.

Unfortunately, the light did not come from the end of the tunnel but from a bioluminescent ecosystem of some kind, self contained underground. Plants of unknown variety thrived, little critters darting among them. 

He felt bad for intruding this wonder, Sonic’s leg still dripping with blood, trailing into the grass. Red staining blue, as opposed to the blue light consuming the red still pulsing from Shadow’s stripes. 

Sonic mumbled something about Tails. 

They needed to hurry.

But a quick scan of their surroundings showed no viable exit. A dead end. Something Shadow had stupidly forgotten to consider before he rushed in. 

Panic hit him all at once.

Sonic had lost a copious amount of blood already. Shadow wasn’t sure how fast the hedgehog would bleed out at this point, but it was far too likely to happen. They wouldn’t have enough time to run back and get out. He hadn’t seen any forks in the path that could lead—

Sonic had nearly flopping out of his arms then, dragging him out of his frantic thoughts. As he readjusted, careful of his partner’s injuries, Shadow spotted a serpent, covered in patches of fluorescent blue and much, much too big.

It had been a warning. 

His eyes blew wide and, ignoring Sonic’s incoherent babbling, he made a dash for the exit, a foot too high up. The monstrous snake lunged at them, jaw opening to reveal glistening fangs as long as Shadow’s forearm, undoubtedly filled with something deadly. He sidestepped the attack clumsily, just in time.

He couldn’t fight like this. Not with Sonic bleeding out in his arms.

“S—! Shadow…”

Said hedgehog was a bit preoccupied with avoiding death. “What?!”

“Up. Up.”

His gaze darted up the rocky wall, for a moment not understanding. Then he spotted a ruby glow, his breath catching.

Chaos emerald.

Ever so innocently resting in an alcove several meters above ground, was the thing that could solve all their problems. The only thing was that damn serpent was still circling them, preventing Shadow from reaching it.

Unless…

“Sonic, can you still curl up?”

“Mmphm.”

“I have a stupid idea that only you can pull off.”

A second later, Shadow prayed to whatever god was listening, wound up his arm, and tossed Sonic toward the emerald with as much accuracy as he could muster with a giant snake staring him down.

At least he was on point. Sonic’s ball form disappeared up above as Shadow dodged the serpent, ready to give it a taste of revenge. Without a person occupying his arms, his mobility increased drastically, allowing him his usual range of attacks. 

As his rocket skate connected with its head with a crunch, he heard the other hedgehog calling his name overhead. 

“Shadow!” He was already sounding better, at least. Chaos energy was a lifesaver.

“I’ll be right there,” Shadow replied, giving the disoriented snake his best death glare before charging up the wall. Sonic would be upset if he did anything more than injure the beast, unfortunately. His stance was strong, and Shadow had no choice but to cave to the other’s morals or face the consequences.

The alcove was barely big enough for the two of them, but they managed. Red emitted from inside mixed with blue seeping in from out, Sonic sitting in the middle bathed in both. It’d make for a beautiful picture if he didn’t look absolutely wrecked, crusting blood streaking the side of his head, face pale from anemia.

Shadow made a grabbing motion at the emerald cradled in the other’s hands, more than ready to leave this place. Sonic tiredly lifted it, and with a Chaos Control, they were back where they started.

Rouge, who had gotten the SOS, was standing next to the cave entrance when the two hedgehogs materialized next to her. Needless to say, they scared the living daylights out of her.

“Chaos, you two! What the hell happened?”

“Gee, not even an ‘ello?” Sonic slurred, keeling over and curling around the emerald. “I dun feel so good.”

“Nausea. Given your condition, it wasn’t ideal to chaos control back,” Shadow reasoned, more to sooth his concern than Sonic’s. Rouge watched as he knelt beside the hedgehog. Passively, the emerald was powerful, but it wouldn’t hurt to speed up the healing process by giving it a little direction.

The sunrise was in full bloom now, dying the sky a brilliant vermillion. Shadow was fully aware of it occurring behind his back, attracting the attention of Sonic and Rouge. He hoped it was worth all the trouble it brought about before the day even started.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” He murmured, more an offhand comment than anything as he watched Sonic’s wounds heal. His emerald eyes were saturated with the sky, altering their color but brightening their spark. 

He smiled so softly, distant.

“Yeah…” Sonic whispered. “Beautiful.”

[randomvarious]

1990s Downtempo Playlist

Well, ya just knew that after doing a bunch of trip hop playlist posting over the past few weeks that I was gonna start adding fresh coats of paint to my downtempo playlists too. And this week I've got some 90s gems from a same trio of albums I've been posting a lot about lately on these Sunday nights: Ninja Cuts: Flexistentialism from UK electronic powerhouse Ninja Tune, Parisian Kid Loco's brilliant DJ-Kicks mix, and then a pretty damn obscure comp from late 90s South Africa called ReRooted: Beatz From Da Ground Up.

And I think my absolute favorite of these new adds this week comes from that Flexistentialism comp, with a lovely piece of blissed-out, mid-90s, reverberating, softly bonging and throbbing dubbiness by legendary Austrian duo Kruder & Dorfmeister called "Shakatakadoodub." These guys are better known as top-flight DJs and remixers, and their own DJ-Kicks mix is often ranked as one of the greatest DJ mixes that's ever been made, period, but "Shakatakadoodub," which is not an obscure track by any means, as it currently has over 1.11 million Spotify plays, is seven-plus minutes of light, hazy perfection 😌. K&D don't release much music of their own creation, and so, this merely made its debut on Flexistentialism, but if they'd ever been more committed to releasing more material, this definitely would've been a stand-out track on whatever they were fixing to release; it's so good.

Next up, from that ReRooted comp, we've got something from a band that hailed from Johannesburg called Sugardrive, who deliver "Girl You Made Me Bad," which is also sort of this vocal indie pop crossover hybrid too. Excellently soothing bits of trumpet, choppy psychedelic synths, and electric acoustic guitar strums. Looks like there's another version of this song on Spotify that has 31.8K+ plays, but this one appears to be cruising somewhere below 1,000 right now...

9 Lazy 9 - "Spoonful of Slow" Kruder & Dorfmeister - "Shakatakadoodub" Funki Porcini - "Venus" Sugardrive - "Girl You Made Me Bad" Boards of Canada - "Happy Cycling" Kid Loco - "Flyin' on 747"

But the YouTube version of this playlist contains all those adds and a handful more too that can't be found on Spotify, which is where some of the songs from Kid Loco's DJ-Kicks mix come into play, like a 1999 song called "Slo Jo" by a guy from Vienna named Stereotyp, who was signed to Kruder & Dorfmeister's own G-Stone Recordings label at the time. And true to that label name, this one is definitely stoned 😵. Very trippy and chill tune, with slow and syrupy synth zaps, a crunch-dusty drumbeat, and vocals delivered by someone named Le Bubu, whose only credits ever came from the Stereotyp 12-inch that this wonderful song first originated from: Stash It. Currently under 2,300 YouTube plays, and deserving of a lot more.

Hacienda - "Diskoking" Tongue - "Culture Consumers" Thievery Corporation - "Lebanese Blonde" Stereotyp - "Slo Jo"

And this playlist is also on YouTube Music.

So this latest update now brings the Spotify version of this playlist up to 40 songs that clock in at 4 hours and 7 minutes, but over on YouTube, we're up to a total of 69 songs (nice!) that clock in at 7 hours and 14 minutes! So if you want a shit-ton more of excellent 90s downtempo, do check out the YouTube one!

And if those playlist lengths sound way too long, consider checking some shorter ones out, which are segmented by year:

1993 Downtempo: YouTube / YouTube Music 1996 Downtempo: YouTube / YouTube Music 1997 Downtempo: YouTube / YouTube Music 1998 Downtempo: YouTube / YouTube Music

And you already know that there's gonna be more downtempo next week, but just to make it official: more downtempo next week.

Enjoy!

More to come, eventually. Stay tuned!

Like what you hear? Follow me on Spotify and YouTube for more cool playlists and uploads!

[its-my-whump]

Medwhump May- Day 24

Not breathing

Reguarding my own experience yesterday, I found some incentive to write again. It wasn't as bad, as I just made it, but surely felt like hell.

@medwhumpmay

Tw: removing stitches, therefor kind of self-inflicted pain, emotional whump

Part 24 (all others here)

The doctor had locked eyes with her and she refused to look away or bury her face under her arm. "M'kay." Half-loud and more exhaled, than spoken, was everything, that came over her lips.

She swallowed strongly and added.."Don't... don't tell me, what your doing, just get it over with, pls." Her frightened eyes searched for the nurses, standing right by her side. "Jst, talk music or so?" Her plea drifted off into a question as her voice lost the last of its volumne. "Sure thing, sweety." The nurse smiled down at her.

Whatever they talked about, she wouldn't know. She realised, she was answering questions with brief exhaled words of compliance, but she didn't even heard those questions, she was fairly sure.

When the dull, sometimes stinking pain over the last weeks was unpleasant, than this was sheer torture. Or more the ache in her tummy and the pull on those stitches, whenever she moved, was a freaking walk in the park compared to this.

Her body just reacted to the pain. Her arms still crossed in front of her chest, holding them, to give herself some kind of support and maybe even a hug, she buried her nails into her shrunken biceps. Normally, she would dig her fingers into the flesh right and left of her belly, to deal with such a consumping all-body-pain. But she couldn't, due to said suture being stretched way too much and being currantly removed, additionally the doctors hands. The slight dull pain in her arm and the tension in her muscles was grounding. It was self-inflicted, so she was in control of the intencity. Not really, the pain of those pulled up suture knots, feeling like layers of skin were seperated from her tummy, was actually responsible for the intensity.

Being bedridden for weeks now, her usual short nails had grown and consumed by the searing, climbing and burning pain, she didn't even realise how deep and strong there were diggering into the skin of her arms, while she pulled them even tighter against her chest.

She had never believed, that she'd ever consciously scream out in pain, but she did. Shortly and still stopped by her embarrassed mind, even though she wanted to tear down the walls, screaming it out. She stiffled it, feeling red additing to the strain in her face.

The nurse put her hand on her shoulder right next to hers, in a clear gesture to take a hold of it. A short view to that small fragile creation of skin and bones and she closed her eyes. Even though, she really wanted to hold a hand right now, she would just plainly crush it, if she tried to take it to deal with the pain. So her eyes automatically closed in desperation and her fingers just dug deeper. Her body stiffened and she bit her tongue. It felt like there were a hundred stitches and the doctor had merely removed two. Maybe even only one. It felt like, when you want to cut a thick cord with a dull knife. Only that that damn cord was knoted to a hurting, burning, bloody part of her skin, that was currantly ripped open.

The pain, she produced in her biceps was not nearly enough, her fingers became numb, the little joints between the digets started to move in the wrong direction. Her jaw hurt from clenching her teeth, stars started to flicker through her black vision, so strong she was pressing her eyes close. Her face felt hot and wet.

A static noise in her ears, she was shaking, but all was a haze. She didn't even realise, the pain was ebbing away, cause the shadow it left, was still lingering through her tummy.

A hand, no two, warm, firmly squeezing her shoulders. Words, a word wafting towards her, like carried with the wind. Voices, talking, to her? Kind of commotion, but she was safe here in the warm stupor of darkness. Suddenly, everything so calm and soothing, became somewhat urgent. The squeeze on her shoulders stronger, she was shaking or been shaken? That word again

"Breathe!"

My masterlist

[bloodiedrogue]

SWEETER THAN DEATH

SUMMARY: The absorption of a curse has always been disgusting and lonely. Well, at least until Gojo showed up.

PAIRING: Geto Suguru & Gojo Satoru

WORD COUNT: 2,244

WARNINGS: Brief descriptions of vomiting, angst, Geto POV, my own silly headcanons about Geto's connection to curses. :)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, I saw this headcanon and my JJK brain rot grew three sizes in the span of a minute, so I made this. Also, knowing me I'm probably going to get consumed by these two so if you want to be tagged in future JJK stuff just let me know!

MASTERLIST

-

The flavour is revolting. A combination of putrid acidity and rotten flesh —it’s the kind of taste that would churn even the strongest of stomachs, resulting in Geto himself struggling to suppress it. 

As he stands alongside Gojo, imagining the process of its inevitable digestion, he still can’t manage to do it in front of people. Fearing that they might judge his lack of composure each time he has to force the cursed sphere down, he merely pockets it instead. Muttering something along the lines of I’ll save it for when I’m hungry at the same time Gojo stretches his spine, acting none the wiser.

“What do they taste like anyway?” 

They taste like death, he wants to say, like a decomposed corpse that’s expelled its insides or a pile of vomit left out in the sun. Instead, though, he just shrugs and tells him they’re flavourless. An empty vessel that fills him up but fails to provide the enjoyment of actually eating a proper meal. 

An answer that Gojo thankfully accepts with a nod before moving on—both of them walking down the street as he starts yammering on about whatever topic of interest he’s deemed exciting enough to share. Forever failing to catch on to the fact that all Geto wants is some peace and quiet as they make their way back to campus. 

This time it’s movies. Specifically Western ones. None of which Geto has seen or has any interest in, considering all he can think about is the curse that rests against his palm. Specifically how it causes his skin to itch with need despite wanting nothing more than to toss it as far as he can so that he doesn’t have to experience it slipping down his throat. 

He’s still not entirely sure why it happens but after a curse has been exorcized it’s as if this connection forms inside his brain. One that requires him to swallow the damned thing as quickly as possible, assuming there’s some sort of time limit. As if he doesn't, something bad might happen. So much so that, even now, even though it’s only been a few minutes since he initially got rid of it, he can feel it calling out to him in the back of his mind. Begging for him to eat —screaming at him to absorb its contents until suddenly they find themselves in the heart of Kyoto. 

At which point Geto can hardly contain the temptation. Palming the sphere with tightened fingers, it’s as if he can feel the curse inside pressing against the outer walls. Its voice echoing overtop of whatever Gojo’s saying now. Forcing him to close his eyes and breathe as he digs his nails into his own flesh, forcing his hands to his sides rather than inside the pockets of his pants.

“It looks so good! We should definitely see it when it comes out!” Gojo practically yells —most likely still talking about movies, prompting Geto to press his lips into a false smile and nod. 

Something he does quite often these days thanks to the amount of missions they’ve been going on. 

“Do you have a favourite?”

In response, he blinks, trying to force himself to return to the conversation. To seem like he’s present and calm rather than bursting at the seams with fear. “Hm?”

“Movie, Suguru!” Gojo chastises, rolling his eyes at Geto’s lack of attention as he shoves his arm. “Weren’t you listening?”

“Course.” 

“Liar!”

This time Geto rolls his eyes. Unable to come up with a clever rebuttal thanks to the curse’s desire to be consumed as quickly as possible. 

“I swear, you’re always elsewhere.”

“What do you mean?” 

“That head of yours.” Before he can process what Gojo is doing he feels his index finger pressed against his forehead, pushing him backwards roughly. Forcing Geto to grunt at the impact before swatting away his hand. “It’s got you distracted.” 

“I’m not distracted.” 

“Then what’s my new favourite movie?” 

Again, Geto fails to come up with a response, resulting in the humiliated feeling of Gojo Satoru being right. A feeling so utterly embarrassing that for a moment he forgets that he should be excusing himself to feed. To give in to the pressure of the curse’s voice penetrating every corner of his mind. To force the rotting flavour down his throat so that he can once again feel nothing.

It takes a while, but eventually, when there’s a pause in Gojo’s one-sided conversation, he lies and says he has to go to the bathroom. Another excuse his friend accepts without question, pulling out his phone while Geto walks a block back before dipping into the nearest alleyway. Completely unaware of the shaking hands that pull the curse out of Geto’s pants pocket. 

EAT ME. EAAAT ME.

By the time he’s out of sight, the voice is borderline hysteric as it sits in his hand. Causing him to narrow his eyes in annoyance, almost immediately he raises the sphere to his mouth while clearing his throat, preparing the space with reluctant thoughts. Wishing just once he can find it in himself to consume without struggle. To taste without the urge to vomit. To feel, just this once, like his ability is more than just a fucking curse. 

Swallowing hard, he does his best to imagine something else in his mouth. Dorayaki, cheesecake —hell even those awful black sesame cookies his mom used to make when he was a kid. Anything to distract himself from the truth as he slips the curse between his lips, immediately gagging when the acrid taste first hits his tongue.

He isn’t sure why but every time feels worse than the last. As if the continual ingestion of these creatures is somehow rotting him from the inside out. Consuming his quality of life each time he’s forced to absorb it.

Which is ultimately an assumption he thinks about often. Considering that’s all he’s become lately, the idea that he’s been deemed as nothing more than some glorified maid being sent out to clean up messes really pisses him off. Especially because he knows that despite being an equal level to Gojo, the only reason he’s allowed to tag along is because everyone knows he’s a liability. A potential threat they might need to subdue in the future. 

Deep down, he knows he’s one wrong thought away from being subdued. After exorcising and absorbing over and over and over again, he can feel the madness slipping through. All the questions of whether or not it’s worth it to continue running rampant through his thoughts as he inevitably spits the curse out, heavily breathing through the rancid taste of failure yet again.

Under his breath, he swears and roughly grips the curse feeling his limbs begin to twitch —the angered voice returning before he can even think to suppress it. 

EATMEEATMEEATMEEATME!

And all he wants is to listen. To grant the voice it's wish so that he may get his. But at the back of his mind, all he can think about is death. How it lingers against his taste buds, filling every crevice of his mouth with the kind of flavour he’d hardly wish upon his worst enemy. How it causes his thoughts to shift to a world where curses no longer exist. A world where he can finally live and breathe and—

“Suguru?” 

He’s on his knees panting through the pain. Still gripping onto the sphere, instead of raised into the air it’s wedged between the concrete and his palm. Becoming more and more pressurized the longer Geto stares at Gojo’s frame, realizing he’s been had. That the illusion of his strength has been reduced to weakness in a matter of seconds. 

A fact that makes him wish the taste inside his mouth was real. That instead of death on his tongue there was instead death in his heart. In his stomach and his lungs —spreading throughout his system in a path that would eventually lead to nothing but darkness. 

Kneeling on the ground, he wishes he were dead instead of staring into the bluest eyes he’s ever seen, watching them narrow with worry. Seeing them twist and turn into shapes filled with panic and confusion and pity until they’re sitting directly in front of him. 

“What’s wrong?” 

For a while, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he only lowers his head and closes his eyes, allowing the breath of his lungs to filter through his tainted throat. Desperately attempting to coat it in a layer of something other than the leftover flavour of the curse until he’s able to look at Gojo, muttering out a pained bad. 

“Bad?”

He nods his head, watching Gojo glance around the alley. Paying no mind to the curse in his hand until eventually it clicks and all he can do is stare. Focusing on the way Geto’s fingers angrily grip the sphere. Most likely wondering why he’s spent all his time lying about something so trivial as taste. 

“I thought you said they don’t taste like anything.” 

Despite everything, all Geto does is laugh darkly, shaking his head. Trying to act as calmly as possible even though the curse's voice is fully ripping its way through his mind now. 

“Guess I really am a liar.”

“Do they always taste bad?” Gojo asks, reverting the subject to its original topic. Prompting Geto to wonder why he cares to question an answer that’s so obviously right in front of him in the first place. 

Because sure, Gojo’s always been a bit ignorant of these kinds of things, deeming himself too important not to be given exactly what he wants regardless of how easy it is. But he’s never acted like that with him. At least, not in such a personal way. Not in a way that could result in some sort of crossed boundary. 

So, it throws him off. As he looks back up, watching Gojo’s hand tentatively rise to cup his cheek. How his thumb shifts to stroke the highest point of his bone structure before brushing away the loose hairs that have fallen in front of his face. How somehow the tenderness of his touch feels like the most painful thing he’s ever experienced, unaware of whether his actions are the result of pity or not. 

Which is why he brushes him off. Throwing his arm in the way of his friend’s lingering hand, he can’t help but groan at the sudden lack of contact as he falls back. His back crashing against the brick wall behind him as he glares into Gojo’s eyes.

As it happens, Gojo jumps at the sudden movement but doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, merely allowing Geto to stir in his anger as he hugs the curse against his chest, trying not to cry. 

Because despite the strength he manages to exude each time he stands alongside Gojo, deep down he always feels this weak. As he blinks back tears, hearing the repetitive chant of the curse in his hands —feeling the madness it inflicts as Gojo inches a bit closer, telling him that he’s okay in such a contradictive way— all he can do is sit. And stare. Attempting to calm himself down as Gojo shoves a hand into his pocket, eventually producing a closed fist. 

“Here.” 

Almost immediately, Geto looks at him with confusion. The kind of look that results in Gojo scoffing in annoyance and opening his palm to reveal a piece of candy.

“Listen, I don’t know if it’ll help but—“

“I’m fine.” 

“Sure, okay… but maybe it’ll make it easier.” 

He wants to tell him that it won’t. That no matter how hard he tries to get rid of the taste that remains long after he’s consumed a curse, it’s always there. Sitting in the farthest corners of his body, waiting for their chance to become present once again. Waiting to make him feel disgusting and weak and—

“Stop being so prideful and take the damn candy, Suguru.”

Before he can deny him again Gojo grabs one of his hands and places it in the centre. Keeping it locked lightly around Geto’s wrist as the two of them continue to stare, wondering what the other’s thinking. Both of them trying to find the best way to go about this vulnerable moment they’ve just shared until Gojo lets him go.

At which point Geto feels that tinge of pain again. The one where he isn’t sure why his friend is doing this. Why, instead of chastising him for a weakness he’s repeatedly lied about, he’s offering support. Why he’s sitting there, allowing him to sift in the screams of this spherical curse for as long as he needs. 

“It gets worse every time,” he eventually tells him. Unable to hold back the way his voice breaks through each syllable. A sound that further paints just how weak he is at this moment as Gojo sighs. 

“What does it taste like?”

“Death.”

“Death?”

He nods just as Gojo starts to look around, eventually producing a small grin that leaves Geto confused all over again, watching him reach out to touch his head again. 

“Guess we’ll need to get you something sweeter then,” his friend suggests, and despite knowing that still probably won’t help, Geto merely nods again, feeling Gojo’s fingers ruffle roughly through his hair before he’s suddenly standing up and offering a hand Geto isn’t quite sure he deserves to hold. 

[kheprriverse]

You have to stop making such amazing art. Tumblr is so restricting I can’t possibly reblog it enough /lh But alas. Words also have meaning, right?

Be warned: I may not make any sense because I’m tired <3

Your art is literally so. Inspiring though. Your style is so beautiful and pretty and it’s just somehow— It makes me want to create? Honestly. I’d love to have a style like yours, but also I’m happy with mine! So instead, the inly valid thing to do is EAT YOUR ART AND REBLOG SO MANY TIMES!!! I’m keeping my own style, and building off it: While you and other artists do the same with what you do!

That being said. Your art just makes my day sometimes. Seeing you post gives me such joy and anytime I see the stupid silly (Cedar /Affec) it’s an instant giggling and kicking my feet like a feral child. So much stimming happens, and I literally love every design and thing you come up with. It’s just. Woah <3

My want to eat art is always at a 10/10: Let me consume the heckin heckles out of everything. Like. shredding the entire walls up. Such zoomies from art. Everything about your art most times just feels. Soft and cozy. Makes it feel like home sometimes and probably tastes like. Fluff. (That’s not a taste but whatever. It counts in my brain?) Maybe even like some sweet candy or dish, idek. Tastes aren’t tasting but damn art does arting?

Not only are you a cool and amazing talented artist, you’re also such a cool person beyond that and just so sweet I would just like to hug, yknow? Strangely I feel like I should be like. Somewhat intimidated because COOL PERSON ARTIST WOAH YOU INTERACT WITH ME??!? But also, I’m not… Really that intimidated? I don’t know, feel welcoming, just like the feeling yoir art brings and its just. Comforting?

You and your silly goody personality is so amazing and you’re so talented, I’m gonna flee now back into the ground: Hopefully this made somewhat sense— And that you have a lovely week/day/month— Just time in general!

*descends away*

~ Z

No I won't stop! Only pretty designs and silly guys ✨! (I am also very tired so its all okay. Also apologies if you wanted this answered privately.)

Also I'm gonna cry abkvjadbvjkkdvbad /pos This means so much! I'm very bad with explaining how I feel but I'm gonna try my bets lmao. It makes me so happy to hear that people really like my stuff, AND think I'm a cool person! I want my space to be kinda chill, friendly, etc and I'm very glad that so far I've been doing a pretty good job :'D

tysm again! I'm very glad u like my stuff (and think I'm cool). I woke up a few hours ago with a headache, dizziness, and was just generally feeling kinda bad and couldn't go back to sleep. But seeing this ask has so far made my day 100 times better! I hope the space I provide continues to bring joy (or just general silliness) to you and others <3

(also I'm glad you like my art too. Ive been having weird issues looking @ my own art since December, which I've never had before, so it makes me become a little silly whenever I get a comment on it. Really improves my motivation and lot and helps me continue what I love most: drawing funny guys and beasties :>)

[theliterarywolf]

Honestly, i see a lot of the "critical of mainstream media" people who complain about Disney and big studio movies and stuff... continue to not watch anything more indie or small, just hype up stuff by other big studios as ultra counterculture stuff.

Like when the Mario movie was coming out and people were saying stuff on twitter like: "oh, the critics are being harsh because it's japanese and smaller than Pixar, boohoo." (Even ignoring how it's a NINTENDO adaptation, Illumination is pretty much the second highest grossing animated studio in the USA i think. People forget how much money those Minions movies made!) Or people presenting the Barbie movie as something ultra counterculture against disney instead of a just a big brand movie that will be funny and sassy but probably not be the deepest thing ever.

I'm not even presenting myself as a person that is all that better than them, i love cartoons and anime but haven't watched in full a lot of stuff that isn't very popular, but i also don't complain about all mainstream media in social media every day

AND THAT'S THE FUCKING THING!!!

Do these people really think that studios would get someone who worked on fucking Thor: Love and Thunder (or whatever the fuck that shit was called, I haven't watched an MCU movie since the original Thor) if people didn't keep fucking WATCHING that shit?!

NO!

Do these people think we would live in a world where fucking Velma exists if people didn't keep falling for 'fake, low-effort socially-aware satire that couldn't satirize its way out of a paper bag'?

NO!

Do these people think that (and this example is more for animation but it still relates) Disney would have gone into that streak of same-faced female main-character designs if people didn't keep buying into it and shirking away from any deviation?

NO!

I'm sorry to say this but while, yes, Nepotism is a thing in certain occasions, at what point do consumers of all this shite realize that they are just as much of the problem as the studios who keep pumping it out? When do people realize the toxic, God damn Ouroborus of the mainstream media cycle can only be broken when the fucking snake decides to stop chewing at the rotted remains of its own tail?!

If you want to change the schism in mainstream media, start celebrating the portions that do what you want. Start talking about the Cabinet of Curiosities', the A24 productions, the Kizazi Moto: Generation Fire's... Stop watching and hate-watching all of these shitty remakes of things.

Because, I hate to say it! Especially on a site like this one! But money! Talks! And you're already in the deficit with so many studios catering to foreign markets, so if you're just the type to say 'well, shit already sucks; why bother' Then please do not talk to me! Because I am so God damn sick of reading some of your guys' bad takes on matters of quality and diversity in mainstream media.

[universal-kitty]

Alright. The Solasposting is going beneath the cut- as written as it was on Discord- because if I try to force myself to make any of those into something that makes sense enough for a text post... I'm probably just going to put it off forever. 😔

And if my server has to hear it, then y'all are gonna have to, too!!!

Okie, let's go-

I am getting scruffed by the back of my neck by Solas OTL

His angst compels me.

—

HE’S SO ANGSTY BUT THE HEARTACHE IS SO BITTERSWEET…..

And like. Not even bad… The sweet aspects are haunting my brain.

—

[once I got onto my laptop-]

Like. The whole thing of keeping secrets. Carrying the guilt of failing a whole people, and trying to right it, while only able to ever seemingly select wrongs. Had he even loved anyone, before it all? Certainly not during it; by the time Solas was awake again, guilt was consuming him in waves. He was weak, and could only put together a history he'd missed... Regrets formed out of a love for the people he was most fond of.

...And yet, it's out of those broken people that they happened. Idc on anyone being like, "I want to romance him as [other race]," THE POINT IS the poignance of him looking at an "echo" of his true people (an elf!!), and yet..... He knows he shouldn't, and yet.......

I am ILL with the fact that he loves the Inq. I've seen a post arguing/wondering it. He does. Does he love them more than trying to correct his prior mistake...? Alas, no. AND YET HE DOES LOVE THEM!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH

—

OH, OH AND I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO MENTION....... My favorite.

Cam's my P1 for my Dragon Age experience. Playing as an elven mage, cause fuck it, I'll be everything he wants me to be. No regrets, babeyyyy!!!!

Anyways.

—

The same mf who's like. "Oh, we shouldn't." / "I don't want to lead you on or encourage these things."

Is the same mf who attempts to dissuade romance/interest in him and then initiates both of the kisses I've seen so far.

HE'S REALLY OVER HERE LIKE, "We shouldn't................ Unless-? "

{ Edit / Note: Funnier bc I half-lied here?? By accident?? Technically, the first kiss goes to Inq. for kissing him in the first place; they're the one to jump the minor, street blockade to kiss him in the first place!!! BUT-!!!! When their confidence to continue and pursue it further fails more than a...rather chaste kiss, Solas is the one to shake his head, and pull them in for more.

{ He very much did not have to!! He has a temporary regret over it, even, how he caved right quickly to his desires...and yet, if Inq gives the nudge of, "No, I do want this," he doesn't...stop it, either. He relents just as quickly.

{ ...I think he's just very funny (in a "I'm going feral over the Meanings" kind of way) that... For someone who's got so much going on. Looots of baggage he was hesitant to share? He really doesn't hold himself back as much as he gives HIMSELF credit for..... LOL! I love him so fiercely. }

Waking up randomly at 7 AM with full consciousness to go:

Also. For someone who brings so much hurt, he never hurts the Inquisitor….

Like. There are no fights. He can be a bit on edge or defensive, but the moment he is called out for it/pointed out, he apologies, puts down his hang-ups, and continues to speak with clarity on whatever was troubling him.

He’s not wholly truthful, of course; he had doubts until the end if he could trust his own love…..

But holy fuck, you can call him out on that.

In the DLC, you can legit point out to him, “Did you think I’d reject you? That I wouldn’t hear your side?”

I’m so. Hhhh- [posi]

{ Note: Yes, I did legitimately wake up with full consciousness one morning. Go, "Solas! I need to talk about Solas," and then wrote all of that. In one go. The powers of this romance arc, ig!! }

—

I get to sit front seat and watch this all go down with my chara… Agony. /aff

Worth it, tho. I got into this series for this damn egghead, and I’m not backing down, even knowing all I know!!!

—

…also The Veilguard is on its way, and. Our prior relationship to Solas- in Inq- is going to matter and…I keep wondering to how much of a degree????

Literally been half-begging Cam that our first chara in Veilguard is in the same world as my Solasmancer…just to see what that’d mean for Veilguard… (It’s also been 10 yrs in game?? Is my Inq okay?? Solas, are you still keeping an eye on them????)

—

Lines that've been haunting me:

Lavellan sometimes came awake from dreams in which her lover watched her sadly from across an endless distance. If they were more than simple dreams, she could not say, for every time she reached for him, he vanished into nothing.

—

And fun fact-!! In an era where elves were long lived and, essentially, immortal, they lost their hair after a millennia of age! (Solas falls into this category, of course.)

—

He also doesn't like tea. I am finding that oddly charming abt him...

—

I am. Trying not to cry in public AS IT ALL CLICKS—

The obsession not just w/ the angst, but the specific flavor of, “Let me love you. I want to love you, so please… Let me in. (You love me, too, and I won’t let you run from that.)”

[SCREAMS!!!!!]

—

I want to hold his stupid (lovely) hand and pull the damn cork on all he’s been holding back, so I can hear his stories!! The history he was there for, without trying to obfuscate the truth of it!!!

I can’t handle this, what da hell……………

MORE FUN FACTS ABT SOLAS!!!!!

He has worn a wig before!!! He tried to fake being a bard, was succeeding....except his dumbass wasn't drinking the tea he ordered...and he later admits, "Yeah, I was trying to not be obvious in every way, but, uh.... Yeah, still don't like tea. LOL"

Anyways, this is relevant bc he wore a wig as part of his disguise!! It was blonde and fluffy, apparently. (And they recently confirmed he probably still has it, ehehe)

—

I REALLY-

Anyways. I'm too badly down for the elf.

—

Trying to do my damned Elvhen language study and.

Person went into talks over how words sharing meanings work w/ the confession Solas did. The feelings hit so hard, I legit feel unwell, ahaha. /lh (It's not srs!! We are fine.)

—

I'm. Hggghhhhgghgh.

—

WHATEVER, I'm sharing my agonies w/ everyone here:

For example, the now loved phrase that Solas tells the player in a romance: "Ar lath 'ma vhen'an." While in the game it is written as "Ar lath ma vhen'an," I believe this is incorrect (I am love you home? huh?). In this case, 'ma is a contraction of mine. Translated literally it would mean "I am love, my home," (remember, 'to be' can be implied). It should be noted that 'home,' has many translations within Elvhen, as they are a very symbolic people. They have a different word for the literal (arla), conceptual (in), and symbolic (vhen'an) meanings for 'home.' In the case of vhen'an, this is the symbolic meaning, which is why a second translation for vhen'an is 'heart.' "Ar lath 'ma vhen'an." I love you. You are my home. | I love you. You are my heart.

—

MY HEART NEARLY SQUEEZED TO ITS END CAUSE OF THOSE PARAGRAPHS

I need everyone to "suffer" with me.... The romantic agonies...

—

Like... Holy fuck. Saying "you are my home" AND "you are my heart" at the same damn time????

Anyways,

—

[ Redacted piece where I go into new depths of Oh No, My Emotions over gifs of his romance scenes... 1) I do not want to grab new gifs/the gifs rn! 2) I am losing my mind again. I'm going to replay this game at some point?? Help. ]

Update: I'm about to start crying at my desk.

What I wanted: need some sappy romance shit in Elvhen. What I got: Learning abt the Fade & tombstones appear in a scene that show everyone's worst fear. Solas' is.....dying alone.

SOLAS HAS CONFIRMED TEA THAT HE LIKES!!!! A WIN FOR TEA!!!!!!!

Q. “Does Solas have a type of tea he doesn't mind as much as others? Or are all of them equally detestable?” A. "Orange zinger."

{ TL;DR of points beyond this... I guess I'm going to try orange zinger tea at some point, just to see what the hype's about! That, and I saw some recipes when I looked it up, so I suppose I'll be trying those, too...? Seems fun, at the least! }

You are now up to date on whatever accursed things are running through my mind at this time.

[herunswithscissors]

Use this magic wand to drink your fancy coffee at home instead of in traffic.

It doesn't matter what brand. They are all basically the same with a different alphabet soup of letters on them. A rechargeable holds a charge for over two weeks of daily use and froths up milk like nobody's business.

Hey, would you like to avoid waiting eternally in line for a sip of that sweet elixir to be found only in your pretentious neighborhood Starbucks?

Would you like less of the few dollars you still have control over, after paying out all your hard earned money just to frickin exist as a biological organism with basic needs like food, water, and shelter. And maybe some love, if you're lucky. How much of that money do you want going to companies of morally and ethically questionable views on civil rights, fair trade, abuse and enslavement of indigenous people who grow the coffee, and genocides?

I don't want to give Starbucks corporate my money either. And it's not like they pay their workers enough to benefit the community either.

But I need that sweet elixir and I can't get by on Dunkin.

Well, have I got a life hack for you: Make your own damn coffee and put it in your own damn cup yourself.

Heavy cream is 5 bucks a quart. Heavy cream lasts for 3-6 weeks in some households in an opened cardboard container. It's pure fat and bacteria generally cannot consume fats. Cool fact of the day.

Heavy cream is the elixir of happiness. You can't feel bad while eating a whole bowl of newly whipped cream. Next time you feel down, put an inch of cream in a cup. Add some of your favorite sweeter. Use your magic milk frother wand for a minute or two. Then just spoon it in. Trust me.

Buy the best coffee beans you can afford. You can more than afford 2 week's worth of ethically sourced, super high quality beans, from whatever origin or blend you like, if you just skip 3 Starbucks runs.

Buy a coffee grinder. Fresh ground coffee. There is nothing like it.

Did you know that the newer coffee makers all come standard with timers. Even the dirt cheap ones. You don't even have to get out of bed to make the coffee all cold and fumbly. Just set it up at night and push the timer button before you brush your teeth. Wake up to the smell of that golden cup.

And then, while you enjoy that first sip of coffee neat and black, you take your magic wand and you use it to froth up milk. After you have enjoyed your pure coffee bliss, and pour your foamy milk onto your coffee. Full fat milk. Or half and half. Maybe indulge in cream. I suggest cream.

Frothing the milk is a learned skill. It takes some practice but you'll grasp the idea.

You can vary the froth by how long you froth the milk or cream. If you froth cream you will immediately get whipped cream and I highly suggest that.

Better, easier, more inexpensive, ethical morning coffee. In your own way. Thanks to today's technological wizardry!

Here's the better part. Instead of gulping down Starbucks in traffic, use your own darn coffee to help you center yourself for the day.

We can all find an extra 15 minutes in our morning to just sit down and drink your coffee before you face this day. (Hell, you probably have to budget at least 15 minutes to spend in line for your coffee every day already. Take it back.)

Find yourself in the moment, drink your coffee, contemplate a bird or a beetle or a cloud. Something of this cosmos. Drink your coffee and focus on something of this living cosmos. Not to become one with it or anything like that. Just to focus on something real that is alive and feel the kinship. It has a wonderful effect of resetting our view of ourselves into a more positive one. Sip your own darn coffee in comfort.

Then enrich your soul with 5 minutes of poetry, scripture, or philosophy. Sip your coffee as you ponder its meaning and significance.

Ready yourself to face your day. Do not review your to do list. Just prepare yourself to roll out. As you sip your coffee.

It can be the silliest dumbest mug in the world. It can be a crumbling creation from a 5yo or a more aesthetically pleasing form. Now fill it with a gourmet whatever the frick you want for 50 cents a day. Heck yeah. Every morning coffee is a uniquely you experience.

Build a better morning coffee ritual than gulping it down like a drug while cursing at other drivers. We can evolve as a society and join the rest of the civilized world.

Make your own darn coffee. Have a morning coffee ritual. It's a human right. Make a better morning coffee ritual for yourself. Be creative. Be yourself. Drink your own darn good coffee. Your way.

[chiyoso]

WKSNDNKWKUDWKEDMSSNSJ

I feel so nauseous. I feel like puking so bad but I can't. The feeling is horrible and all I'm doing is being in this fetus position until the feeling goes away. I can't eat or drink. Everything's smelling like shit, and I can't make myself eat without feeling like puking after. WJDHHEKWIEJGENWKEK I HATE THIS SO MUCH OH MY GODDD ☹️

anyways, I came over to your inbox to say hi and I missed talking to you. Tumblr has been a bitch for deleting my draft and i don't feel like writing after wasting my time on that draft Tumblr deleted 😞

but anyways, I hope you're well! <3

YUA I MISSED YOU WO FUCKING MUCHHHHHH NNNGH MY WANDERERRRRR

hearing you struggle like that makes me feel helpless too hngh, i'm no expert, but i really want to help you—try eating foods that's similar to oatmeal, or porridge in small amounts, even you feel like puking, strictly stop, don't drink water immediately after too, just take a moment to calm whatever's brewing inside, then if you feel like its safe to consume again, eat by miniscule amounts. you need to eat, you have to, and water is good yes, but consuming large amounts will result in your stomach acting up again.

if you can finish that type of dish, include something that requires chewing. i don't know what sort of problem you're dealing with, but remember, things that highten your iron and would benefit you. DON'T EAT HEAVY. at least not yet, only when you feel better and can handle the previous foods i mentioned, got that?

from my own good experiences, being sick makes me feel really damn isolated and lonely, even when people are near or just at the other room, there's this feeling of complete loneliness, and i hope you haven't been feeling that way... if so, please come here and talk to me, a lot if you so wish, my asks is always welcome for you, yua ♡ i love you, i genuinely hope you feel better soon wanderer :((

[elkenbulwark]

@gorethought cont.

As the evening drew nearer to a close once the last curling scent of the charred meat on the fire had either been consumed or taken back to tents to enjoy in silence, Birvor still found himself mucking about the campfire, namely looking for that damned ball of Scratch's. The hound had walked over with a whine and if he were not too keen on the way animals spoke thanks to his lessons with knowing what anything nearby was plotting when it came to preventing accidents with Ren after that incident with the pond of geese in the past...then it was for certain he most likely would have just resigned himself after giving the mutt a few good rubs between the ears. Unfortunately, his amicus animales had yet to wear off, and Scratch was adamant that he help look for the ball he'd lost in the bushes after Lae'zel had tossed the slobbery offering away with a bit too much force.

Having spent a good fifteen minutes rooting about in the high reeds that lined the embankment of the river they'd set up camp by, Birvor eventually emerged and sent the snowy coated hound a look of withering abandon which the dog gave a sharp whine of understanding up towards, his tail sinking between his back legs in defeat. Almost as soon as he had, though, Birvor produced the slobbery rubber ball from behind his back and gave it a few appealing squeaks. "Just messin' with ya, buddy. Go long!"

With a few excited barks and spins in place, Scratch hopped up onto his hind legs for a brief moment to relent with a [You have found it! I am ready for the hunt again ~ ] before the half-orc wound up to give the ball a sharp chuck towards the river. A splash was heard amidst the sounds of the dog's feet scurrying along as he disappeared into the reeds, barking happily away as he charged after his mission of fetching the wayward projectile.

Hands on his hips, Birvor shook his head with a little smile before turning to head back towards the tent Ren and he shared. Well...the one Ren usually stood up at all hours of the night reading tomes and whatever smut Kim had smuggled the sheltered wizard. Usually the half-orc was just content to sleep in the dirt half on top of a bed roll. On his way in to find said bed roll, he paused once he noticed the slight movement of a figure in the confines of their own tent they'd yet to draw shut for privacy hours. It took Birvor a moment of drawing his eyes along the back of the figure, lingering on the long, dark hair undone from its usual braid for him to realize that Az was still up and agitated...judging from the swish in the other's tail that seemed a lot more frustrated than Scratch's wagging delight from earlier.

Not wanting to pry, but finding the other's tent directly in the path on the way to his own, Birvor decided it wouldn't be such a bad idea to poke in. Keeping quiet for the most part until Az noticed him hovering and watching the scene with crossed arms, the false son of the Cragdews offered the other's puzzled expression a sheepish smile as he leaned into his weight to better shift in towards Az's approach. Once in the light of the campfire's crackle, Az's eye - though tilted down and intent on shifting into the lowered hair framing their face, caught his attention. That Volo had really done a number on the guy ... and Birvor had to wonder if he could have prevented that exchange had he not been tuning his lute off near the river at the time of the impromptu lobotomy. Still...it wasn't his place to criticize for a decision wanted and made. Nor was it really in his place to mention the hint of pain he thought he saw in the other's paler, mismatched orb. Not unless invited, of course.

And even still, the sight stirred something in his chest. Inspiration? From where, he could not fathom...only that the sight of one eye sacrificed caused an unusual fluttering in his chest that convinced him he should consider doing the same.

[+1 Inspiration; he who watches.]"There!" roared He-Who-Watches triumphantly, and his voice carried to the ends of the world. "There is where the orcs shall dwell! There they will survive, and multiply, and grow stronger, and a day will come when they cover the world, and they will slay all of your collective peoples! Orcs shall inherit the world you sought to cheat me of!"

Perhaps it was an inspiration that stirred too fiercely in his chest, because before he knew what he was doing, Birvor leaned in- mindful not to knock his tusks against the tiefling's jaw as he pressed half-parted lips on the bone directly below the pale of Az's unseeing eye. He lingered in the action only briefly, though he invited no extra distance between them when he parted to observe his company's fresh flush of color. Uncertainty at what the other might do stained his expression, though quickly warmed upon the insistence that he ought not bother with such a check in on the other's behalf. "Didn' hafta. Wanted to." He reiterated with his own brand of lowered voice, careful to keep poised in front of Az directly so that any onlookers might not see what was occurring mostly for the other's sake. He knew all too well the repercussions of one's social circle when caught in 4k with lips as unorthodox as his anywhere within the vicinity of another's face.

As a light plum shade also began to warm up the half-orc's cheeks, he shifted restlessly in place as Az articulated just how well he wished he could some times. With the inspiration still burning in his chest, he swallowed, a determined look lingering within both hazel irises. Perhaps he'd act on it...if only to see if his persuasion was up to snuff. "Az..." He started, eyes softening to offset the tusky tenseness in his jaw. Trying to rid himself of said tenseness with a little shake of his head Birvor found himself gravitating in towards Az's face - flawed eye and all, though he could not understand why such a unique sight would be considered as such. "Why would I go'an do that?" His voice was breathy and his jaw relaxed as he reached up to give Az's face a resting place to lean their cheek into should he need it.

"I think highly of nothing much these days. But..." The usual gruff roil of his voice was no where to be heard as it trembled just barely around "But...I think highly of you-"

[Roll 1d20: 5 out of 20] [Failure!]

Just as soon as he'd uttered his heartfelt sentiment, a series of barks erupted from the reeds again as Scratch bound out with the ball between his jaws. With a furious wriggle in the name of having to retrieve his ball from within the river itself, it took the dog little time of shaking his fur out (river mud and all) onto the two (though mostly on Birvor's back where the mutt had approached.)

Urgh...of course that would fucking happen. Having moved mid-spray to stand more in front of Az as a sort of splash-block shield, he gave his company a rather pitiable expression. "Argh- sorry. I was riling'im up earlier-" Great...he could be riled up with the dog together now. Never mind he would have 'liked' the invitation just swell if he suddenly wasn't a mess that Az probably didn't want trekked through their tent.

[shattered-catalyst]

I was just reading this and let's break it down

First of all we have the pit fall and struggle of all real long term relationships. TS doesn't give us bullshit reasoning for a break up. It's a realistic push and pull between someone and their own identity as they struggle to settle down in their mid to late twenties.

Hes not getting what he needs and he doesn't seem to know what he wants: it's natural and human to be confused in relationships. I think a lot of the hate towards this arc comes from the desire to see the ship together rather than to see the characters grow as individuals. Star is still growing in his confidence of his wants and needs and he's allowed to do that. This backwards step is allowed and permissible in character growth. In fact we usually see this right before someone has major changes and makes positive growth in their life.

Characters aren't static tbh I'd rather have a dynamic relationship being portrayed.

And boy is this dynamic because get me a large popcorn Ric is dragging him.

He acknowledges seeing Star earlier when Star stopped by signaling he needed Ric. But he put up a boundary and said no and continued his life.

I could write pages on how great Rictor is at boundaries like he's the king of boundaries when he wants to be (and then sucks when he doesn't tbh but shhh strengths focus here)

I always read that line from rictor about the posters in a teeth grinding annoyed voice. In a: ' can't you see I have a life and you aren't the center of it you asshole.'

It's a push back. Its healthy. It's maintaining the boundary of ' if you say I can't give you what you need then don't come to me when you need things.'

I also love the indication that the power release wasn't intentional because it relates back to the headcanon of ric having a tic disorder and that's dear to my heart. But I also feel it lends some emotional weight to the piece that shows just how deeply he cares and wants to be there for Star- who he is begrudgingly calling Ben and respecting Stars choice to have a new identity BTW like how fucking nice is that?

He isn't making fun of stars new identity or name he's supporting him. Like gdi ricstar is so great. He obviously doesn't like it and has some feelings there but he isn't forcing Star to be Star he's addressing him as 'Ben' with the quotations . Indicating there's a difference in how they've been handling the switch between Star and Ben.

Trying out different names and identities is very positive and common and I don't think this is a bad thing. I think inherently Star needed to explore life as Ben and that it's beautiful Ric was supporting him even if he personally accepted Star for who he was no matter what name he called himself.

Ric was willing to go with Star with whatever name he wanted to try or use until he was comfortable with himself. He was there to support him. It was Star that iced him out through a trauma response- normal for a real world relationship and great writing for a comic one.

Honestly the nuanced character development here is fantastic for both Ric and Star and pets them shine brilliantly. I only wish we had a Rictor solo series for this timeline to compliment it.

Yeah gasp I would want a Rictor solo series around this timeline or maybe post krakoa or maybe even M day time line.

TS saw Rictors character and gave him the boost up that he deserves and let him shine. He gave him so much development and it's a damn shame it's being overcast by people who are more interested in counting active couples than they are about the personhood of actual Queer characters and their life stories.

I sometimes wonder what would happen if we began to acknowledge the fetishization of two Queer men for being what it is: problematic even if we are LGBTQIA qnd doing the action I ourselves. Gay and Bisexual relationships are not a product to be consumed and the majority of Rictor fans are lesbians (not all but that's the running joke). I think it's important to reflect on how yaoi and Boys love influence how we in the LGBTQIA population view other same sex relationship and view them as a product to consume and fall into the same traps and toxic behaviors.

There's a lot to say on this and I'm not sure where I'm heading. but this one page holds so many little tidbits that show great writing and character building.

It's okay if people don't like the story. There's stuff wrong with it just like there is any other piece of media. But if they don't like it just because the guys aren't together then there needs to be a reflection on how you consume LGBTQIA media. This whole solo series was a love letter for them and a testament to Star building a life for himself and Ric.

[lostinnightcity]

Entry 07: May 21, 2077 (金)

I finally feel like my life is starting to settle into a new routine. Don't get me wrong, my entire personality is still slowly being consumed by a digital parasite. I still could catch a stray bullet at any hour of any day. Arasaka still hangs over my head like a cloud of acid rain. But, but...I'm catching my breath at last.

I woke up this morning and looked out my window, and for the first time, I actually noticed the building across the way. I think it's a high-end apartment, but you'd be forgiven for thinking it was some software company's offices. What caught my eye was the grass. It's so rare just to see a patch of perfectly-manicured grass in Night City. For a moment, I remembered what it felt like to feel grass between my toes on a late summer day. I'd love to make it over there just one time before it's lights out for V. You reading this, Johnny? Don't be in too much of a hurry.

The Delamain cab AI has pulled me into some side hustle, wrangling rouge cabs it's lost track of. Long story, but Del's courteous and easy to work with, and he pays well. Well enough that I might be able to pay Vik back for everything he's done for me. Today I found two of the cabs. One was despondent, if an AI can be such a thing. Wanted to drive over a bridge. I did some pop psych on it and got it to return to dispatch. The other one was harder, less agreeable. Thankfully, I had a Cut-O-Matic in the trunk of my Hella, and somehow I managed to get the Delamain pinned in between a pole and my car, and I just went to town on its hood with the chainsaw until I managed to sever something important and took the cab offline. Del was thankful. The damn thing made a mess in the streets before then, though.

I was on my way to meet Claire, the bartender from the Afterlife, when Regina called me about a possible cyberpsycho incident down by the shoreline. I happened to be nearby so I grabbed my electric shotgun--correctly surmising it would be best to deal with a chromed-out basket case--and got to work. It was fucked up: from what I can gather, the whole thing was a reality show practical joke gone way, way too far. Messed up family and cut-rate implants led to a bad situation. I was able to put the psycho down without killing her (a Kiroshi targeting unit I've managed to acquire helps focus on non-lethal takedowns). Regina wants them taken in alive whenever possible. Suits me. I don't really think this was her fault. I felt bad for her. Hopefully Regina can get her the help she needs.

I was still able to make it to the starting grid before Claire. Here we are before the race:

Claire's great. Maybe a little pushy, but I can tell she's got a big heart. She lost her last driver, that's how I got roped into this. She didn't want to talk about the specifics, I can tell there's a story there that still hurts. Whatever she's racing for, it's about more than just the money.

Get this, though: We came in first! Frankly, I'm not sure how comfortable I am with this. Not that I'm worried for us, we handled it without breaking a sweat. But these races are fast, and violent, and this one was right on the streets of downtown. The organizers make sure NCPD get their cut to look the other way, but some innocent could really get wiped out through no fault of their own. The next race is supposed to be in the Badlands, at least. That seems a little more sane.

Takemura was insistent I meet with him and a Saka contact of his. I didn't want to, I know it would be a waste of time at best, but what can I do? He might be one of my only ledes right now to someone who could help with the biochip. So I went down to the docks in the middle of the night (a real downer after the high of winning that race), and predictably got shat on by his contact, who turned out to be Hanako Arasaka's bodyguard. He offered us nothing, and frankly, I'm surprised it wasn't an ambush. I guess Takemura had enough goodwill with him for him to "allow" us to leave the city for good. Well, fat chance at that. I have another idea. But it was getting late, and it will have to wait.

I came home before 2:00, got out of my sweaty, rain-soaked kitch wear, and decompressed with Nibbles. I may not be living in the high-rise mansion across the block, but it'll have to do.

[introloves]

ok yeah abo... but.....puppyboy bo in prerut so he cant stop pestering u and trying to get ur attention... n when it finally clicks to u that he's about to go into rut he's lost it n he pins u down and just stuffs u over and over cuz he cant help himself.. <//33 panting and whining and slobbering all over u <//33333 scrabbling to grab any part of u that he can because he just cant get enough of u .... <///33333

hybrid! bokuto + puppyboy! bokuto + ruts + doggystyle + creampie + breeding + manhandling + size kink + praise (male receiving) + overstimulation + knots + mentions of panty stealing + licking + afab! reader + no pronouns used / use of cunt + pussy mentioned

— word count; approx 1.2k

it takes too long to notice, preoccupied and doing something else always spells for disaster with having someone like bokuto- too needy and clinging onto you for attention is nothing new, but tonight you really need to get things done.

his incessant badgering reaches its peak when you’ve shooed him away for the umpteenth time- tail wagging in a slow swoop behind him, way slower than his usual overexcited tempo- ears pinned back onto his fluffy hair, thinking it’s from annoyance in the fact you won’t give in, but this time when your hand comes up to push his head away; asking him with a pleading tone to settle down, a groan is all that meets you in response.

looking at him, really looking at him you notice the telltale signs of his rut coming in- face pink, body too warm, and the most damning of it all; his cock hard and straining against his sweats slung low on his hips. there's no way you can tell him to calm down now, a punch of lust settling in your stomach when the realization settles-

he wasn't being bad, wasn't brazenly trying to act out for attention, he was hurting and with a muddled mind- too horny to properly ask you for help.

“oh puppy.” you whisper, feeling his big body lean into you harder with the utter of such a familiar nickname.

“why didn’t you say anything.” you ask softly, knowing it’s all rhetorical, knowing his brain is too muddled in lust to give you any sort of logical answer back- already nearly panting with the arousal now heavy in the air, coming from you too.

fingers comb through his hair- a patchwork of light and dark greys before settling on his ears and tugging, his whole body leaning down over yours in an almost protective stance at the action, muscled arms wrapping firmly around your torso, bringing you in 'cause he knows you feel the throb.

the slow boiling frenzy has him desperate for whatever you want to give him- wondering if there's enough patience left in him to even make it to the bedroom; content enough to get off on your thigh, cock too heavy and hard, looking for any sort of release.

pushed only when your hands come to his neck, fingers hooking inside the collar he so proudly wears- your name etched on one side of it, head coming down even fuzzier at the pull. feet following dumbly wherever you want him to go.

seconds dragged on until he can smell the all consuming scent of your shared space- one he had intentionally steered clear in fear of making a mess of your shared bed. of making his way into the hamper where you keep your dirty laundry and using a piece to stave off the heat.

and now he can barely stand still, hips swaying- cock swinging between his legs with the force of his wagging tail, painting the fat of his thighs with leaky precum in pure excitement. its a sight you take in happily, cooing before hes on you once again.

hands reaching for you, tugging you back til your legs hit the bed- tumbling into it in a heap, not even allowed to breathe when his hands cup the back of your knees.

folding himself down into you- tags jingling right above your face while you peer up at him, happily giving him this sliver of power.

knowing trying to contain him was like trying to hold a star- your own eagerness coming in the form of shaky thighs. trying to stave off rolling heat, especially know with the way his hips surge forward. head tipping back to breathe, away from the smell of your cunt.

"it's okay puppy." you whine, bringing him back with a gentle hand, cupping his fevered face. letting him know with a nod that its okay to have you.

and once more, with the same enthusiasm that had nearly knocked you off your feet when he came to you, his strong fingers slipped between the band hugging your waist and pulled.

the fabric not offering even the least bit of resistance to his strength- taking a second to pull in a strong breath, drool pooling in his mouth at your bare pussy.

cock jumping in eagerness- another rivulet of precum running down his already wet shaft, painting him even further. all in preparation to have you, like you told him you could.

wanting to be free from the mind muddling lust- swinging his hips down to stretch you open in one push, mouth hanging open to keen loudly, too weak to fight against the pull of your cunt sucking him in.

already swinging his body down into yours again and again- accompanied by lewd wetness so loud it makes you wail. begging for him to ease up just a little- suffocating in his weight, in the way his thick cock pushes any coherent thought out of your brain.

and he wants to apologize for being bad- for taking you without giving your pussy kisses and licks in preparation, but then you squeeze him tight. already cumming around his dick while he ruts down over and over, digging fingers into the hold of your legs he has.

unknowingly pushing you down even more- too tight you can move an inch while you cum and cum.

"p-please." its all you gasp, shaky and interrupted by the hits of him down onto you.

"i want it, will you be good and give it to me?" you cry- fingertips once more reaching for his jingling collar, catching the etched lines of, 'good boy' glinting up at you.

already weak, shaky- arms barely able to keep you down, unable to not listen to such a pretty question, he cums.

thick ropes prematurely making their home inside before the flared base at his cock inflates- his teeth gnashing with the feel, gathering the tiniest bit of will to pin you back.

wanting to apologize like he’s done so many times over for even hurting you. even when you cum once more, thrashing in the midst of his knot plugging you against your contracting cunt, leaking your own cum where you’re joined, making everything too slippery for him, having to push down with a final thrust to really seal it inside.

basking in the way being locked into you rids him of the sweltering heat- looking at you as if it’s the first time, finally leaning in to lick your lips in a silent apology.

a whine so low and pitiful you can’t help but clench around his throbbing knot leaves his throat- knowing what he feels.

“it’s okay, it’s okay.” you pout- trying to breathe in deeply with his weight onto you. finally able to trickle soft fingertips along the ridges of muscle on his back. turning your head with a giggle when he leans back in to lick a stripe of pure adoration up your cheek, licking stray tears rolling down your face.

“yeah- it feels good, doesn’t it?” he questions, rubbing thumb in circles where his hands still hold your legs down.

“too good.” you sigh, letting him bask you in his unwavering devotion; unable to do anything else while his throbbing knot keeps you stuffed full.

[edenmemes]

the witcher s2 sentence starters

contains spoilers. some quotes are slightly altered to fit better.

❝ let’s play a drinking game. ❞ ❝ faith’s a simple medicine for desperate souls. ❞ ❝ you don’t frighten easily. ❞ ❝ it’s what eats you alive. loneliness. ❞ ❝ i heard it all. fire, screams and death. ❞ ❝ you’ve become a lightweight, old friend. ❞ ❝ how are you not heartbroken? ❞ ❝ people do stupid things when they think they are trapped in a corner. ❞ ❝ are you a monster because you are different? ❞ ❝ this must be our secret. ❞ ❝ all you care about is your damn duty. ❞ ❝ i’ve lived through a whole dark age and three supposed end of days. ❞ ❝ that’s a tale requiring wine. ❞ ❝ do what you do best. stay and fight. ❞ ❝ fear is an illness. if you leave it untreated, it can consume you. ❞ ❝ you have taken something from me. someone i care about deeply. ❞ ❝ there’s times to stand still, and there’s times to keep moving. ❞ ❝ you’re panting like a dying mammoth. ❞ ❝ you’d rather be blind than see the truth. ❞ ❝ when you have power like yours, you never apologize. ❞ ❝ you have the social graces of a wild boar. ❞ ❝ last time we saw each other, you basically told me to fuck off. ❞ ❝ what would you have me do? ❞ ❝ promise me something. if we get seperated, remember what you have. ❞ ❝ all you have to do is keep your sword close and keep running. ❞ ❝ you were never one to go quietly, were you? ❞ ❝ i am here for you. i won’t let anybody hurt you. ❞ ❝ the path to true strength lies not in humble faith, but in believing in oneself. ❞ ❝ you would not know talent if i shoved it up your ass. ❞ ❝ you can tell me anything. ❞ ❝ it’s just ‘yap, yap, yap’ with you sometimes. ❞ ❝ my faith brought me this far. i’ll see how much further it can take me. ❞ ❝ power. that’s what you live for. ❞ ❝ i know this is dangerous, but now is not the time to be weak. it is the time to be strong. ❞ ❝ nowhere’s safe now. you can’t run from the world. ❞ ❝ i don’t want revenge. i want justice. ❞ ❝ your stomach’s growling loud enough to wake the dead. ❞ ❝ less than perfect means death. ❞ ❝ you can either be too strong to fail or too weak to try. ❞ ❝ you are always so emotional. ❞ ❝ we don’t kill out of fear. ❞ ❝ like father, like daughter. ❞ ❝ i understand that you are in pain and you can drown that pain with whatever you want. just not here. ❞ ❝ humans do bad things to everybody. ❞ ❝ i tell you no word of a lie. ❞ ❝ that was the first and last time...i saw my father proud of me. ❞ ❝ that’s quite barbarous, even for me. ❞ ❝ i’m not going anywhere, all right? i’m staying right here. ❞ ❝ and you call yourself a leader? ❞ ❝ magic. it’s lodged in you. like a spiked arrow. ❞ ❝ you bring terror and death wherever you are. ❞ ❝ do what you have to do to seize your destiny. ❞ ❝ it’s as if you’re determined to do the opposite of the thing that’ll keep you safe. ❞ ❝ remember what you have. magic. ❞ ❝ i’m hoping there is a grain of truth to fairytales. ❞ ❝ this place was meant for no one. ❞ ❝ i’m not having this conversation unless i’m drinking. ❞ ❝ you did what you had to do. ❞ ❝ all the people i loved in this world were taken from me. ❞ ❝ i would not wish that fate on my worst enemy. ❞ ❝ it came from the heart. perhaps a broken one. ❞ ❝ what’s it like? being alone because of what you are? ❞ ❝ all curses have cures. ❞ ❝ you pick up a thing or two while in hiding. ❞ ❝ how about we scout the property? make sure it’s safe for the night. ❞ ❝ my war is your war. ❞ ❝ you thought you were special. ❞ ❝ i wish i could go back in time. save everyone. ❞ ❝ something has changed. the world’s acting of its own strange accord these days. ❞ ❝ how did you spend your days when you first came here? ❞ ❝ i value the bond we have. ❞ ❝ i know what you are. an old wives’ tale for children. ❞ ❝ do you humans ever stop talking? ❞ ❝ if only you’d think of yourself instead of licking other’s boots. ❞ ❝ sometimes it doesn’t seem real. ❞ ❝ that’s your play? it’s rather desperate. ❞ ❝ i was hoping you’d do what i say. ❞ ❝ you’re the desperate one. the most. ❞ ❝ the path forward will be harder still. ❞ ❝ i’ve never met anyone alone in the heart like you. different. ❞ ❝ it is not in my nature to be cruel. ❞ ❝ stay with me tonight. let’s not be alone. ❞ ❝ do you think i’m asking because i personally give a shit? ❞ ❝ what is destined cannot be avoided. ❞ ❝ scary storoies don’t really work on me. ❞ ❝ you were wrong. or lied. neither’s a shock. ❞ ❝ what has been need not always be. ❞ ❝ we should keep moving. ❞ ❝ are you all right? you look like day-old shit. ❞ ❝ you don’t seem like a monster to me. ❞ ❝ thieving a thief merely makes you the latest thief. ❞ ❝ you can find power and purpose. a chance to survive the horror. ❞ ❝ i’ve fantasized about going back. ❞ ❝ the only certainty in this place, is that no one is ever what they seem. ❞ ❝ this is what you call free? ❞ ❝ you still have time to turn back. it’s not too late. ❞ ❝ it’s not a question of price. it’s a matter of cost. ❞ ❝ tell me what you want. ❞ ❝ sometimes i think i’m still a person. but...i know what i really am. ❞ ❝ i deserve my destiny. ❞ ❝ why help? what’s in it for you? ❞ ❝ i can smell your desires like rotten meat. ❞ ❝ it’s funny how quickly people forget about you when you are no longer any use to them, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ trust the path you choose, and it will protect you. ❞ ❝ move beyond the pain, the fear, the failure, until you become one with a killer. ❞ ❝ you can do anything. doesn’t mean you have to. ❞ ❝ what is lost is lost. ❞ ❝ you are all alone in a world that hates you with no way to protect ourselves. ❞ ❝ thankfully, men remain simple. ❞ ❝ verbose when i need you to be quiet. silent and stubborn when i need you to talk. ❞ ❝ even traitors speak the truth. ❞ ❝ shared dreams are a powerful omen. ❞ ❝ our most trusted advisors are becoming less and less trustworthy. ❞ ❝ i think there’s something wrong with me. ❞ ❝ nightmares are common after battle. ❞ ❝ when i say run, you run. when i say hide, you hide. ❞ ❝ i’ve never met anyone alone in the heart, like you. ❞ ❝ i know who you truly are. what are you hiding now? ❞ ❝ you're eager to please. easy to wound. ❞ ❝ that all you got? ❞ ❝ your true power resides in more than your blood. ❞ ❝ hatred is an endless cycle of fear and desperation. ❞ ❝ perhaps we were meant to find each other. ❞ ❝ no matter how hard i train, no matter what i do, i’ll never be enough. ❞ ❝ shocking. we have to do it your way again. ❞ ❝ your heart has been beating fast this whole time. you’re nervous. ❞ ❝ do you like the dress i left for you? ❞ ❝ oh. that’s a look of a person who’s worried they’ve lost their touch. ❞ ❝ it doesn’t matter if it’s true. it only matters if the people believe it. ❞ ❝ i’m sick of feeling lost. ❞ ❝ i’ve had leaders, followers...but i’ve never had a partner before. ❞ ❝ i want to be indifferent to the past. to the lies. to the things i’ve done. ❞ ❝ don’t flatter yourself. i’m saving me. ❞ ❝ did you not think of the consequences? what if you were killed? ❞ ❝ we can leave under the cover of darkness. ❞ ❝ don’t be afraid. nothing can hurt you here. ❞ ❝ you are important to me. you always will be. ❞ ❝ yes, well, i’m topped off on magical mystery at the moment. ❞ ❝ you are already enough. you are extraordinary. ❞ ❝ you don’t get to play damsel in distress. that’s my job. ❞ ❝ i’ve destroyed so many things. please, let me heal things for once. ❞ ❝ the truth is you are choosing to be an asshole, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ i have nothing to hide. ❞ ❝ i owe you as much as you owe me. nothing more, nothing less. ❞ ❝ legends aren’t science. ❞ ❝ who are we, when we can no longer do what we were put on this planet to do? ❞ ❝ some wounds cannot be healed. i understand that more than you know. ❞ ❝ i can’t be what you want. what you deserve. ❞ ❝ you need to let me take care of your wound. ❞ ❝ everyone answers to someone eventually. even you, i suspect. ❞ ❝ you pretend to not have emotions, but you do. ❞ ❝ love and blood. they both possess a mighty power. ❞ ❝ prison didn’t exactly do you any favors. ❞ ❝ monsters are more than just horrid looks and claws and teeth. monsters are born of deeds done. unforgivable ones. ❞ ❝ i hope that in your search to feel again, you feel your value. ❞ ❝ i’m too hopeless to stop anything. ❞ ❝ i sleep like shit too. ❞ ❝ you don’t really give a shit about what i want. ❞ ❝ those who died...i say their names out loud at night so i don’t forget. ❞ ❝ something dark lies ahead of you. i can feel it. ❞ ❝ no one’s on our side, you trusting idiot. ❞ ❝ i’m not abandoning you. i’ll stay and fight. ❞ ❝ explain to me how you’re not deadweight. ❞ ❝ we’ll reach our destination by sundown. ❞ ❝ i see your wounds have improved, but your manners have not. ❞ ❝ don’t be scared. i’m not going to hurt you. ❞ ❝ hesitation will draw danger to you like fire. ❞ ❝ don’t flatter yourself. i’m saving me. ❞ ❝ you have the ability to break the cycle of hatred once and for all. ❞ ❝ sensitive questions are my favourite. ❞ ❝ sometimes we assume the worst because we fear to hope. ❞ ❝ it is in blindness we find our true strength. ❞ ❝ i know you know how dangerous this is. ❞ ❝ were you attacked because you’re different? ❞ ❝ who knows, maybe we’ll be friends again. ❞ ❝ i won’t let anything happen to you. ❞ ❝ you can fight battles and wear dresses. you can do both. ❞ ❝ holy men are the most depraved. ❞ ❝ watch me burn all the memories of you. ❞ ❝ what's the difference between you and a heap of shit? eventually, the shit will stop smelling. ❞ ❝ you’re offering me up as sacrifice? ❞ ❝ our best chance is to kill the hatred we hold on to and move on. ❞ ❝ everywhere i go, people die. ❞ ❝ sometimes i feel like i could burn the whole world. ❞ ❝ was it worth it? ❞ ❝ you are brave, but let me help you. ❞ ❝ there is only death here. ❞ ❝ unlike you, i’m not one to waste power on such frivolous nonsense. ❞ ❝ the battle must have really taken it out of you. ❞ ❝ i know. i know you want to scream. ❞ ❝ that’s the problem. no one knows anything about you. who you are, what you are, where you are, what you want. ❞ ❝ my friend, you are very far from fine. ❞ ❝ i look a tad different since you saw me last. ❞ ❝ we both need to keep a low profile, it seems. ❞ ❝ we won. but barely. ❞ ❝ i hope there’s a plaque to commemerate your greatness. ❞ ❝ i will not let us down. ❞ ❝ i’ve never known a human to give out of the kindness of their heart. ❞ ❝ every day increases the risk of being found. ❞ ❝ forget faith. we’ve got power. ❞ ❝ your precious leader’s after something. you are a pawn to get it. ❞ ❝ are you my inquisitor or my executioner? ❞ ❝ you are a hero to me and many others. ❞ ❝ we’re only staying until the storm dies. ❞ ❝ so i’m your destiny? whatever that means. ❞ ❝ i won’t be here forever to protect you. ❞ ❝ faith sustains us all in dark times. ❞ ❝ your pain is my pain. ❞ ❝ everything i was told my whole life was a lie. ❞ ❝ after everything we did, what we saw...you turned your back on me. ❞ ❝ we all have our time in the sun. ❞ ❝ if you have an ulterior motive, you can tell me. ❞ ❝ from the moment we met, you have been trying to fill a void. ❞ ❝ history does have a way of repeating itself, doesn’t it? ❞ ❝ they’re desperate. which means they’re dangerous. ❞ ❝ i’m doing everything i can to keep you safe. ❞ ❝ i said don’t touch me. ❞ ❝ i’m one of the lucky ones. depending on your definition of luck. ❞ ❝ i don’t see any side upon which you are not entirely fucked. ❞ ❝ there are forces at play larger than we know. ❞ ❝ you will destroy us all. ❞ ❝ i don’t know who you are, but come any closer and you’ll regret it. ❞ ❝ i...dreamed about you once. ❞ ❝ it’s been a difficult few months...but things seem to be finally turning a corner. ❞ ❝ what is it with men lurking about this place? ❞ ❝ oh, what’s the hurry? ❞ ❝ ___. it’s nice to finally put a face to the name. ❞ ❝ in times of war, hard decisions must be made. ❞ ❝ if you free me, perhaps we can work together. ❞ ❝ you remind me of an old friend. ❞ ❝ i was stupid, and i was selfish. ❞ ❝ i have always considered you my equal partner. i wish i could prove to you that i’m worthy of the same. ❞ ❝ what are you doing out here in the middle of east bloody nowhere? ❞ ❝ family, blood...that’s the only bond that can’t be broken. ❞ ❝ when i’m with you, i don’t feel alone anymore. ❞ ❝ are you all right? who did this? ❞ ❝ what i’m really asking you is...is this what pleases you? ❞ ❝ we could be entangled in a war again before we know it. ❞ ❝ why do you want this so badly? ❞ ❝ there are those obsessed with finding power, and those who know their place. ❞ ❝ i’m asking you for help. for once, will you give me it? ❞ ❝ you dare show your face here? ❞ ❝ i wasn’t sure you’d make it. ❞ ❝ i wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t unnecessary. ❞ ❝ your aim’s gone to shit. ❞ ❝ i pay you to solve my problems, not fill my head with piling bad news. ❞ ❝ the monsters aren’t new. they’re just new to here. ❞ ❝ i have some wounds that refuse to heal. ❞ ❝ you were having a nightmare. i came to check on you. ❞ ❝ please stay. don’t go. ❞