#i carrion and sunlight my beloveds

[theartofangirling]

[tokuteasings]

You are my King | For you, I would betray the world

Yep. Kingohger brain rot. Kaguragi got me feeling things so here I am. Sometimes I gotta write self-indulgent shit. But hey! We’re finally on the last part of the YAMK series~! Let’s goooo~!!!!!

Warnings: Spoilers for ep 4-ish. Kaguragi is a complex man and I like him. This is a romantic relationship with GN reader. I also love angst so I’m Super Happy to dive into Kingohger angst. Also uh, who wants to hear me scream about Rita next week and make like 70 fics about em?

@lunalove25​ bc i love you 

Stingers are stabbing him.

Piercing him. 

Harming him.

But they are nothing.

Nothing at all. 

They do not hurt him as much as the sheer thought of anything happening to his beloved. He could feel the buzzing of wasps and hornets scream from within the pits of his gut as his fingers nearly shatter the next wooden brush. The splinters would soothe him, perhaps, from this inner mud that threatens to cake him in sorrow-

“Kaguragi?”

Honeyed balm salves his skin, his pain, his heart. It fills in those cracks and crevices of dried skin and he looks skywards to the shoji doors of his office. Sunlight finally blesses his face and a tired smile lifts his lips. “My dearest,” he sets down the ink brush without hesitation, letting it clatter in a lonely patch of darkness in the corner of his desk and holds out his empty hand towards them. “Come in, whatever is the matter?”

“I heard that you made a deal with Racles?” 

Kaguragi could almost hear their heart stop, or was it his own? How it ceases to beat and simply claws its talons into each surface of tissue and burrow deep and deeper. It’s wrenching it out in the worst of ways, letting it become carrion to be picked upon. 

But he forces a smile to his face as his beloved steps closer, and closer, and closer. They’re sitting in front of him now, frown evident upon their beautiful face, marbled from the finest of paints and causes him to want to sing hymns to God Hachi in praise. “It will be fine, my love.”

He will not shake.

He will not cower.

He will not bend to pressure as it threatens to snap him in half. 

Kaguragi gently takes the hand of his spring blossom, a kiss dotted to their knuckles.

Let them know how much I love them.

“Do not fear, my love,” the king breaks away, covering their hand with his own, lacing fingers into this nest of adoration - tightly packed by a honeycomb.

Who is shaking, is it he? Or them?

He does not know, but he cannot falter. 

“Kaguragi,” they murmur, barely heard above the fluttering wingbeat of a hummingbird. Their voice causes his heart to lurch in his chest, passing from one flower to the next, desperate to find some sort of purchase. “I know Racles cannot be trusted...but,” they return his gesture, their lips pressed to the knuckles of the lord and he inhales deeply from his nostrils flaring. 

Gods above, give me strength. 

“Dearest...”

“Shhh,” they lift themselves up a smidgen, their free hand cupping his cheek and on instinct he leans into it, shutting his eyes and letting their warmth radiate from their pores and into his own. “I’m here for you, I will always be, no matter what you do. But please,” a thumb runs over his cheekbone and a ghost of a sigh escapes his lips, wondering if his spirit went along with it. 

“Come back home to me, safely.”

Kaguragi opens his eyes to glance at them, their clear eyes that bore into his soul, that drowns him in pools of water that he never wants to leave and nourishes him...

He removes a hand from theirs, cupping the hand at his cheek, and lightly turns his head to press a kiss to their palm. “Of course I will,” he murmurs their name reverently at their altar. “For you, for Toufu, for my people, I will do anything to protect you all.”

“And I, for you as well.”

Let the world rain down fire upon him, let him become a man scorned, a man blamed, hated, and burned at the stake.

If his people, his country, his most beloved are safe...then he will betray the world itself. 

[unofficial-sean]

Even you, Baldur's Gate 3 my beloved, place crow calls only in creepy, decrepit places. The other aesthetically pleasing passeriformes with their melodic songs are in the nice sunlit areas, but the crows are only in putrid bogs and places where death has visited.

And sure, the carrion crow got its name for eating dead animals (including humans), but there are many more crows in sunlit woodland areas, in nice places where the songbirds (which crows are) reside.

I am SICK OF IT. I stayed away from crows all my life because of their cultural tie to dreadful things, and now that I've started really paying attention to them from book to binoculars, I am appalled; the crow is so much more than the tiny cultural imagination has painted her as. She is not a harbinger of dread, death, and the creepy. She is not witchy, she is not a thief, she is not a pest, she is not the loner cast against the moon.

She is a hoarder. She is a chatterbox. She is observant. She is incredibly intelligent. She plays with sticks and looks after her sick. She remembers. She glows blue and brown in the sunlight. And so much more.

Fucking sick of it.

Unfortunately, all the crow plushies and works of art I find woefully do not capture or contain the essence of the crow. It's either "ROUND black baby with beady eyes" or "overly dramatic, stoic silhouette." None of these things are crows. I don't see a crow and see these things.

Crows are iridescent indigo! Intelligent! Curious! They are sharp with magnificent wings and tail plume, and their eyes are a rich brown! They are talkative and social. I want to see crows playing with each other and with objects. Crows are not thieves of "shiny things." Crows love to pick at food they found perched on wires, not doing fuck all on some leafless tree branch against a full moon sky. Crows are diurnal. They are all huddled in a tree, whispering to each other before twilight, and remain that way until the morn.

These are PANTOMIMES of crows. I could go on.

[dansnaturepictures]

07/10/2022-Lakeside and home 

I had a brilliant day of birds on two Lakeside walks and at home today. Goldcrest, Chiffchaff which I heard on both walks too and Long-tailed Tit were sweet small birds to see beside Concorde lake at lunch time. Where seeing three Ring-necked Parakeets noisily sailing through the air with a soaring Buzzard again over a little bit before was a great sight to see. Tonight seeing Swallows over the northern fenced off area were a joy to see flying through the sky and watch for a bit. In October now that could well be the last Swallows I see in 2022, a year I have enjoyed them so much. A last slice of summer perhaps. I loved seeing some Mallards on the shore of beach lake and on the fishing jetty where some were sleepy this evening, kissed gloriously by the strong evening sunlight. I also liked seeing two Carrion Crows getting stuck into a cow pat tonight in the southern fenced off area. I also on the evening walk had a Ring-necked Parakeet dash right over my head. A great moment. 

And it was a hat trick as also today whilst I worked before lunch I just as I did this evening firstly heard a Ring-necked Parakeet loudly and then it flew over the garden. The lowest and closest I’ve ever seen a parakeet from home where I first saw them locally, it was a jolly emerald sight in a very strong run I am on for seeing these birds. Stealing the home birds show today though was the Sparrowhawk in the seventh picture in this photoset. My Mum saw and recorded a video of a Sparrowhawk eating prey in the garden the other day, when she has seen them in the past when I’ve not been in I quite often haven’t gone onto see one but they are a bird that seems to have spates of being around locally so I was alert. And it was as though it was meant to be that despite stopping and looking at things quite a bit and doing my weekly perimeter walk all the way around Lakeside so a long one I got in from my lunch time walk fairly early, so it gave me time to spot the Sparrowhawk sat facing away from me on a nearby roof and it wasn’t there long once I saw it. I managed a couple of photos of it and I was thrilled to get such a spectacular view of a majestic bird. Since I saw one fly past me whilst on the trampoline as a kid at my Dad’s house/the old family home an intimate wildlife encounter like no other this bird of prey, which was the first of my beloved raptors I ever saw in our early birding days, has been the ultimate bird to see in the garden or nearby. A special moment. I took the first picture in this photoset of a Starling on the balcony at the start of my lunch break.

I liked seeing the cows in the lowering sunlight tonight and at lunch time, taking the ninth picture in this photoset of one of them tonight. A Marmalade hoverfly on a dandelion at Lakeside was a treat at lunch time. Flower wise it was good to see speedwell again beside Concorde lake which I took the fifth picture in this photoset of with my macro lens and one lonely scabious holding on near to the visitor centre. Yarrow on the flower bed on the way to Lakeside and a fair few orange poppies looked great at lunch time I took the second picture in this photoset showing this area and it was nice to make the most of pineappleweed, great willowherb and hogweed I believe with the thistle in the eighth picture in this photoset seen tonight. I really liked seeing sunlit teasel tonight by the visitor centre, its interesting this seems to flower in purple so briefly and most of my teasel photos have probably been brown. There was a nice array of berries and fruits on show at Lakeside and home including some lovely fallen apples that looked pretty together, rose hips and other berries. I liked finding a mossy rose gall again too. 

There were great patches of sunshine today and it was good to see the beautiful sun kissed lakes, green and autumnal colour in the trees and a pretty sunset tonight and brightness just before as a shower cleared with raindrops on the window lit well from behind looking nice which the tenth picture in this set shows. It was great being out for my Friday evening walk in the early evening with it looking how it might have at half 7 a few weeks ago, that really peaceful feeling of the sun lowering being embraced by the outdoors. It was a cracking evening walk and I don’t have many left with it being dark soon after or at the time I finish work on a Friday once the clocks go back. I took the third, fourth and sixth pictures in this photoset of views at Lakeside this lunch time. I hope you all have a nice weekend. 

Wildlife Sightings Summary: Two of my favourite birds the Great Crested Grebe seen at Lakeside again on Concorde lake and Buzzard, Moorhen, Mallard, Black-headed Gull, Sparrowhawk, Ring-necked Parakeet, Swallow, Chiffchaff, Goldcrest, Wren, Blue Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Starling, Woodpigeon, Collared Dove, Magpie, Carrion Crow seen well at home tonight too and Jackdaw seen well from home, marmalade hoverfly, a jumping spider I believe and I heard a Robin I believe. 

[lemontwst]

crossing the line. ❤️ ace x m!reader

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: in which ace runs his mouth and then gets his cheeks clapped by an mc with immense big dick energy.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: ace trappola x m!reader

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.2k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: non-con to dub-con, revenge/hate sex, mentions of voyeurism, public sex, enemies to lovers, mc has magical devices he definitely should not be having, grim is not present in this particular scene. 

“You don’t even know about the Great Seven?—”

His malicious voice bounces around your skull like thunder, drowning out the rest of the world like you've suddenly plunged into deep, cold water.

“Are you that ignorant?"

Tranquil rage licks at your insides, your stomach twists with nausea and your hands twitch with the impulse to wrap around his neck.

“Maybe you should go back to kindergarden before thinking of coming to this school.”

Don't punch him. You dig half-moons in your palms, inhaling a deep, shaky breath. Your muscles tighten from the strain of holding yourself back, from resisting the urge to punch this idiot's face in and drag him across the boulevard by the hair. Your heart thump thump thumps against your ribcage like it wants to jump out of you. Don't punch him.

"Aww I'm sorry, did I offend you?" The redhead's features morph into an expression of cheap remorse. His hands clutch his chest like he's so heartbroken, then the joke is over and that obnoxious smirk curves his lips once more, "—just kidding. Why don't you go cry about it to your mom? You won't last long in this place if you can’t stand up for yourself.”

Your reach into your pocket and your fingers brush against one of the slips of paper Crowley gave you before you parted. Paralyzers, he called them. They look pretty useless to you — just a bunch of small, fragile talismans cut from some yellowed paper, but according to Crowley, these things can subdue weaker magical beings for a limited amount of time. The headmaster gave them to you predicting that you would end up in less than savory situations, being the only ordinary human in a school full of wizards, shapeshifters and God knows what else.

“The immobilizing effect will last for about ten minutes,” Crowley had mused as he handed you the talismans, “Do try to escape the situation before the time runs out, would you? It would reflect poorly on our beloved school if one of our students were to die, after all.”

Escape. You snort, your eyes slowly appraising the other student who is still mouthing off. This place still doesn’t know you’re not one to go down without a fight. You’d much rather cling to the monster that’s tearing you apart, digging your teeth in its flesh even as you bleed out all over the pavement than turn tail and run. The carrion on your skin is a hard enough shield, the rot that stains your soul a powerful balm that turns the sting of your wounds into repugnant adrenaline.

"...Anyways, unlike you I actually have classes to attend to," The redhead throws you one last condescending smirk before turning around and giving you a half-assed wave, "Have fun cleaning the halls, janito—"

The words catch in his throat as you stick the Paralyzer to his vulnerable back, grabbing him by the hair and throwing him not so gently behind the obnoxiously large statues and out of the open street. 

The student rolls a few times across the grassy side of the road, almost crashing into the flowerbeds that fence the statues off, then he finally lands on his back, coughing and spluttering more from the shock of the sudden fall than actual pain.

He quickly tries to hoist himself up, but his arms and legs feel boneless and he falls back down, eyes wide and panicked as a jolt of electricity runs him from head to toe. He tries to get up again, but it seems like the more he struggles, the weaker he becomes. The talisman saps every ounce of his energy in a matter of seconds, leaving him unable to do anything more than lay there, eyes to the sky as he tries to catch his breath.

"What—the fuck—did you do?!" He snaps, his crimson eyes filling with hate when you slowly enter his field of vision, blocking out the sunlight and hovering over him with disinterest written all over your handsome face.

His temples throb with the strain of his thoughts traveling at supersonic speed, his head hurts like he just slammed it against a wall, and the cold look in your eyes makes his stomach twist into tight knots in what he stubbornly decides to be fear—even as his skin starts to heat up like he's been sunburnt the longer you look down at him.

"Oh, you know…" You casually put one foot on his stomach and lean in, ignoring the long, pained gasp that scratches his throat raw, "Just thought I'd teach a cockroach in my path a little lesson. I was thinking of letting you go quietly, but all your whining really got on my fucking nerves." You step off of him and he twitches and coughs, trying and failing to curl into himself for some sort of comfort.

"...Ha...so what, are you just gonna beat me up?" He says, smirking through the pain as if he's used to it. You don't doubt it—his mouth has probably gotten him in trouble plenty of times before—but simply hitting him would be so boring. You kneel between his legs, spreading them apart with ease and his smirk falls, "Hey—what are you doing, you idiot?! Get off me!" You ignore him as he tries to squirm out of your grasp.

"Since you act like a little bitch..." You take his shoes off without untying them and throw them somewhere behind you, then you unbuckle his pants and do the same thing, slightly annoyed with the way he whines and struggles—as if he has any chance of wrestling you off when his body is about as responsive as jello, "I'm going to fuck you like one."

The redhead's breath stutters and he stops moving, looking at you like you just escaped the nearest psych ward, but the sudden flash of crimson that lights up his face and the subtle way his eyes fall to your crotch before quickly focusing back on your face betray just a smudge of confused desire—he's probably seen something like this in porn and he’s relieving it in his mind.

"W-we're in public, you bastard! Are—are you insane?! Get away from—" His brain slams on the brakes and his head empties like it's hyperspace.

A shocked gasp leaves his lips when you bring your index finger to the front of his boxers, lazily drawing a circle over the growing hardness beneath. His stomach clenches, ripples of pleasure seemingly falling from where you're touching him to pool in his belly like molten lava.

His breathing picks up the pace, loud and humid in his ears as his eyes stay on your hand like you've hypnotized him, "...H-hey, s-stop that—this isn't fucking funny—"

"Says you." You hum, stopping your slow circling on his now visible erection to finger the elastic band of his boxers. The intimate touch makes his muscles clench and his head fils with air, "I find the way you're sprawled on the grass with no pants on absolutely hilarious." He makes a sound between a shriek and a gasp when your fingers grab his cock and pull it out of his underwear.

This isn't happening. He looks at his cock standing out in the open with a horrified look on his face.

It's not happening—it's a dream—the thought of other students walking the boulevard and seeing him there, behind the statue of the Queen of Hearts, his erection out and his body unable to move makes bile pool in his mouth—and his dick throb, but he doesn’t have time to consider his fucked up reaction because you suddenly blow on his glans and his entire body spasms, his head hits the grass and his eyes find the clear, blue sky once again. He briefly registers the feeling of his underwear sliding off his legs. This isn't happening.

You ignore his useless protests and start unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it off his shoulders roughly but not quite taking it off -- the contrast of his pale, heaving chest and his flushed face as he lies helpless in front of you with his dick out almost makes you forget how irritated you are with him. Almost. But just because he’s cute doesn’t mean you’re not going to make him pay for daring to talk to you like you’re a piece of garbage on the side of the road.

You envelop his hard shaft with your hand and start pumping, slowly, letting him feel the soft texture of your palm and ignoring his pleas for you to wait. With every stroke his sensitivity increases, the thought of being caught flies away as if someone just blew in his skull and the redhead can only claw at the ground and pull at the grass with jerking fingers as a sweet voice starts spilling out of him.

It's just broken gasps at first, confused, scared and excited in equal measure—and then the world loses focus and it's full blown moans, little sighs that grow in volume the more you manhandle him. His shaft and your fingers become slick with precum and the movements become easier and smoother, the tingles in his crotch fly up his spine and he has to remind himself that this is wrong to keep himself from bucking up into your hand.

Stubborn as he is, he almost succeeds in resisting you. But you know just how to break him, allowing yourself a few seconds to listen to his cute moans while you wet your fingers, saliva dripping down your wrist as you methodically suck on the appendages as if they were the hard, leaking dick in your hand.

When you decide your fingers are wet enough, you bring them down to his ass and spread his cheeks to find that tight hole no one has ever touched before.

His entire body jolts when you start circling it, the sensation completely knew and so unexpected that he momentarily comes back to reality. "Wait—not there!" He tries to raise his head but his willpower leaves him when your middle finger draws a deep semi-circle around the rim.

It feels so fucking weird, he jerks his head this and that way as he tries to focus on the hand on his cock and the finger prodding at his hole at the same time. It's tingly and intense and he doesn't want it, his hot asshole parts under your push, welcoming you in a cavern of velvet, and the gasp that leaves him is the loudest one yet. 

"Relax, you little moron." You stretch him carefully, briefly wondering if he's going to come from your handjob before you even have the time to reach his prostate. He's so fucking tight, unused, pure and yet vulgar as he moans and twitches under your skilled hands.

You insert another finger in and his voice turns high-pitched, then you brush against that little button inside his ass—barely, just the ghost of a touch—and he falls off the edge, convulsing like he's been electrocuted and cumming all over himself.

His semen lands on his chest and jacket and as he slowly comes down from cloud nine, eyes glazed and drool on his chin, he briefly wonders how the fuck he's going to go back to his dorm with cum on his uniform. Then he feels you crawl on top of him and that thought too seems to dissolve into thin air.

No one can blame him for being unable to think, unable to act and, somewhere in the deepest recess of his mind, unwilling to move when you start stroking his sensitive dick again, your hair tickling his chin. He can feel how warm your body is and how nice you smell now that you're so close. If you weren't such a fucking demon it would almost feel nice.

"What's your name?" You exhale next to his ear and he shivers, feeling sick to his stomach when he realizes it's because he wants your lips on him.

"A-Ace…" He mutters, tilting his head away from you as much as he can. The white expanse of his neck is right there and you place a few slow, open-mouthed kisses on his vulnerable skin. Ace's heart does a fucking pirouette, little sparks of pleasure run down his abdomen and he lets out a soft moan, one he wishes he could stuff back in his mouth as soon as he hears it.

He feels the sudden urge to cling to you as he lets you kiss him everywhere. He wonders how it would feel to have your mouth draw a line from his collarbones to his stomach before you take his cock in your mouth and the thought alone makes his entire body tremble with need, little gasps leaving him as you lick the curve of his jaw and then blow on it.

"Ace." You growl his name against his skin and the vibration threatens to destroy the rickety dam that keeps his sanity in place. You're doing something unforgivable to him, fuck, Ace knows it and he hates you for it, but the way you say his name makes him so fucking glad to be born, glad to be lying in the grass like a slut with his pants discarded somewhere and your hand slowly stroking his cock.

"Fuck—don't say it like t-that…" He practically wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut as he focuses on the scorching waves of pleasure that pulse through his abdomen when you chuckle against his skin. This feels so fucking nice, one of his hands reaches down to grab your wrist while you continue to stroke him and he absentmindedly caresses your hand as you pump his cock.

He curses loudly as he takes in the hard curve of your knuckles and the wetness of your fingers. Your touch is different than what he's used to, rough but with a regular rhythm that pushes him closer and closer to his orgasm with every flick of your hand. You lazily nibble at his jaw and he suddenly finds himself overrun by the universally irresistible urge to come. Fuck, he's gonna come so hard in a hand that's not his own—

"S-so—sensitive—fuck, gonna cum all over your fingers—" His other hand grabs your shoulder in a way that almost feels too romantic given the situation, but Ace doesn't give a damn. The only thing that matters right now is your hand jacking him off and the trail of stars that dances behind his eyelids as you shatter his galaxy.

So close—so close—his moans become loud and shameless as he bucks up into you, ignoring how useless his body still feels because right now he really fucking needs to come again. 

The muscles in his abdomen tighten, hot white pleasure flashes in front of his eyes and Ace is so fucking ready when he arches his back, but instead of feeling relief, a tidal wave of frustration and disappointment crashes into his electrified body and his loud voice trails off in a pained whine as you suddenly take your hand off his dick, denying him the sweet mercy of orgasmic bliss.

The disparity between what he’s feeling and what he expected to feel is so vast it takes him a minute to realize what happened, the dam in his head breaks and he’s left gasping and sobbing and twitching, hands flying and grasping at the grass beneath him as he struggles to catch his breath.

"—What the fuck?!" He basically screams, looking at you with teary eyes and a face that screams betrayal, "W-why did you s-stop?! I told you I was close!" His chest heaves and he looks almost possessed when his own hand reaches for his abused, throbbing cock, fully intent on finishing the job one way or another.

You stop him before his fingertips even reach the shaft, meeting no resistance when you pin his hand back against the grass.

Ace glares at you but it's feeble and pathetic, the last remains of his rejection completely snuffed out by the shock of being denied an orgasm for the first time in his life. He doesn't look proud and hateful anymore; he’s now just a brat naked from the waist down, this close to crying because he didn’t get fucked the way he wanted.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you wanted me to stop? Did you change your mind, Ace?” The voice that whispered his name almost lovingly in his ears now drips with venom, almost as if you’re imitating the way he talked to you just a handful of minutes earlier.

Ace flinches, his heart sinks and he looks fucking crushed as he takes in your cold expression. You’re not going to stop, are you—? Not now that he actually wants you to touch him—?

“No...that’s not—I didn’t—” He splutters, flushing up to his ears when he realizes he doesn’t even know what he wants to say. Do you want him to beg? Because at this point Ace doesn’t really care enough to even object to that. He just wants you back on top of him. He wants to feel your warmth and have your scent fill his head while you bring him to his release again.

“Dont...be like that...come on,” He groans, letting his head fall to the ground. His dick hurts. His back hurts. Fuck, everything hurts, even his heart for some fucking reason. He doesn't like it when you look at him like you hate him. If anything he should be the one looking at you like that, not the other way around.

"Y-you want me to beg? Is that it?" Ace scoffs and weakly spreads his legs, leaving his cum-stained self complete exposed to your scrutiny. He has the decency to look embarrassed, but when his glazed eyes slowly go from your face to the tent in your pants, what you see in them is not disdain or shame, but pure, unbridled lust.

"You'll beg without me having to ask for it." Ace follows your hand as it goes to your belt, and when you unbuckle it, the soft, erotic click makes his body tremble and his heart flutter.

It's not like he wants to see it—his eyes stay on your crotch as you slowly pull your pants down, revealing the black underwear beneath.

Are you—are you going to pull it out? Out here where everyone can see?—Ace momentarily forgets that he's had his dick out in public for more than it's considered appropriate in every fucking country across the world. Every one of his thoughts comes to an abrupt halt, like he's suffered a concussion.

Except he hasn't, he's just drooling in his mouth at the thought of your cock.

"You don't get to come again, I told you you're going to be fucked like the little bitch you are." You finally pull your dick out, hissing when the air hits your feverish skin and Ace thinks he’s going to spontaneously combust.

The rush of heat that flares beneath his skin is unlike anything he’s ever felt and his slow mind has trouble comprehending whether he suddenly feels on fire because he can see your erection right in front of him or because of the sound you just made. Both. It’s probably both.

“Is that right…” He probably sounds as dazed as he feels—his breath catches in his throat when you lean down again, hovering over him but not quite touching him, the ghost of your breath on his lips threatening to turn him delirious.

You teasingly drag your wet erection across his stomach and Ace moans, his eyes falling shut when your dicks touch. He grinds up against you without thinking and suddenly his body is weightless and he's on the verge of coming all over himself. It feels like every nerve he has is experiencing its own little earthquake, the sound that leaves your lips makes his mind fall apart at the seams and the only thing he can say is a long, desperate "Fuuuck."

His eyes flutter open and he finds you smirking down at him; the sight is so surprising and so beautiful that Ace’s heart lodges straight in his throat.

"Turn around and raise your ass." You chuckle and he goes redder than his hair, but ultimately doesn't protest, waiting for you to give him some space before complying.

The sleeves of his uniform are completely ruined at his point, wet with dew and mud and grass as he pulls himself up on his elbows and gives you an expectant look from over his shoulder. 

What he doesn't expect is to feel your thick fingers push into him again. He almost falls face first into the dirt as he gasps, waist shaking as he's once again wrecked by the feeling of his rim being teased. 

You stretch him more insistently then before, the saliva and cum on your fingers aiding you in your preparations. You try to avoid his prostate, because Ace is already shaking like a leaf and you know how close he is to his climax, but your redhead seems to have had enough of being edged and insistently grinds back into your fingers until you touch that sweet spot inside him that makes his dick leak precum like a faucet. 

He's still not used to it however, and the shock of such an intense stimulation makes his elbows give out as he falls unceremoniously on his face. But he doesn't seem to care, cheek pressed against the grass and eyes squeezed shut as he experiences having his prostate massaged for the first time.

Fuck, he’s sure his legs are going to give out soon too. If just your fingers feel this good, what’s going to happen when you stick your dick in—? Is he going to lose his mind—? Somewhere along the line he seems to have completely forgotten that he's outside in broad daylight with his ass in the air. But even if someone were to see him getting fucked like a slut, would it really be so bad—?

"Hold on tight, stupid," You take your fingers out and he whines softly, sounding surprisingly disappointed for someone who has never had their ass played with before, "I'm gonna make sure you can never come just from touching yourself ever again."

You line your hard cock against his opening and Ace shivers from both anticipation and fear. You’re so big—is—is this gonna hurt? I mean, after everything you've done to him this should be a walk in the park, right—?

It isn't.

You slowly push your dick inside and Ace's first instinct is to scream.

His mind shatters into oblivion as he takes in the feeling of your thick cock stretching him like he's a fucktoy. But this is still nothing, you haven't done anything yet and he's already broken. You pull your hips back and thrust into him hard, your dick scrapes against his prostate and Ace falls into a state of euphoric delirium.

He was made for this, he thinks. Born with the sole purpose of being your slut, ass up and legs spread as he invites you to plow him harder, to mess up his head until your cock is the only thing he can think about. 

And he doesn't even know your name, Ace realizes as his body bounces back and forth against the grass with the force of your thrusts, his tongue lolls out and he tries his best to match your movements with his exhausted body, his hole squeezing your dick like it doesn't want to ever let go.

"Fuuuck—can we do this like…..every day from no—ah!—now on?!" He'll let you do anything you want if you promise to keep fucking him like he's your girlfriend. On his bed in front of his roommates, in class, on the headmaster's desk, anywhere you want him, Ace will be a good bitch for you.

In response to his nonsense you griiind into him and the explosive pleasure that flashes in front of his vision is almost seismic, devastating like nothing he's ever experienced as he breaks and cries and cums all over the grass, eyes rolling back when you roughly grab his hair and thrust a few more times before painting his insides white with your own release.

You make sure to fill him to the brim and Ace doesn't pull away. Instead he remains obediently glued to your crotch as the feeling of hot semen running down his legs completely obliterates his sanity.

Your nasty temper placated for the time being, you pull out in one swift motion and let his boneless body fall to the ground.

Ace groans and curses you under his breath, then he very slowly rolls onto his back, still dazed by the fact that you just came inside him.

If he thought everything hurt before, now he thinks he might actually need to pay a visit to the nurse's office. The effects of the Paralyzer have worn off by now but he's so fucking tired—he startles out of his drunk reverie when something like a curtain falls on his head. 

Except it's not a curtain, but his pants. He takes them off his face and gives you a weak glare as you adjust your belt.

"Wear a skirt next time," You throw him a smirk over your shoulder and Ace hates the way his heart quivers, "Like a good girl."

You barely have the time to dodge the shoe that comes hurtling towards your head, Ace quickly reaching for the other shoe when you start running back towards the school building.

 "Fuck you!—"

[aaaaagaronia]

1-9 12-19 24-29 34-39 42-50 58 61-64 66-71 73 76-78 81-84 86 88 91-98 <3

hey bestie why are you drowning me in questions in one go/j

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

coffee mugs <3

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

lollipops ig?? i dont really eat either that much tbh

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

cotton candy

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

"very well behaved and super mature for [3rr0rs] age, if only every student was a good as [3rr0r]"

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

soda cans dsnfkjsd

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

id Like to dress grunge but im stuck in tomboy because i djldsfsd [weary] dont pass and dont have anything else to wear so

7. earbuds or headphones?

earbuds, headphones have sdjkfsd bad feel on ears

gonna do the rest under the cut because you went dsjlfksd a Lot

8. movies or tv shows?

idk ig movies?

9. favorite smell in the summer?

dirt

12. name of your favorite playlist?

girl help ive been stabbed

13. lanyard or key ring?

key ring

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

gummy crocs,,,

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

uhhh non of the mandatory books but the books we got to choose for reading assignments uhh unwind is very good

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

sitting on one leg and have the other stretched out

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

these pair of black sketchers i have dsjfksd

18. ideal weather?

chilly

19. sleeping position?

curled up

24. favorite crystal?

chrysoberyl

25. first song you remember hearing?

idk

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

sit under tree

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

go for a walk or stay in and draw dsmjlfds

28. five songs to describe you?

i dont really have sorry

29. best way to bond with you?

i dont djskfs really know?? engaging in interests ig i dont sdjkfs socialize much to begin with

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

baby bullet batch bowl

35. average time you fall asleep?

midnight at the earliest lately jdfsd

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

idk

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

duffel bag

38. lemonade or tea?

leamonade

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

lemon meringue pie

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

bomber jackets beloved but im sentenced to hoodies

44. favorite scent for soap?

strawberry and cream

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

sci fi!

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

regular clothes <3

47. favorite type of cheese?

i dont jskdfhsd like cheese

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

passion fruit

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

i dont ndskhfds have one

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

retelling casino boys

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

uhh i dont really have any [weary] perceiving myself Icky

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

"i dont want lone wolves i want capybaras" aliens fireteam

62. seven characters you relate to?

[looks through kin list] herbert west, hector cyr, doc connors, cheryl williams, four, kane, mike tobacco

63. five songs that would play in your club?

hive club, beasts, hive club remix, in my mouth, aunt rosies garden

64. favorite website from your childhood?

dont really have one dsjfds

66. favorite flower(s)?

nightshade pretty and could kill me

67. good luck charms?

dont have any

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

beverly soda is the nastiest soda ive ever had

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

you can survive a minute in space without a suit

70. left or right handed?

right

71. least favorite pattern?

idk i guess polka dots

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

idk my diet is kinda weird as it is

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

tator tots beloved

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

uhh i have cactus on my windowsill so

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

coffee from a gas station

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

fireflies

82. pc or console?

pc

83. writing or drawing?

drawing

84. podcasts or talk radio?

podcasts? i dont really listen to either

86. cookies or cupcakes?

cookies

88. your greatest wish?

idk

91. boxes or bags?

boxes

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

i have lamp but i like overhead lights

93. nicknames?

i dont really have any since meat Is one of my names

94. favorite season?

winter

95. favorite app on your phone?

id say bitlife but i uninstalled it

96. desktop background?

is my carrion design

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

one, its my mosm

98. favorite historical era?

uhhhh dont really have any sorry

[tanoraqui]

i know this is super old, but for the crit role/lotr crossover you wrote, what was your plan for percy? (my instant thought on who he might be was saruman, but more reasonably i'm guessing he would have been eowyn?)

[the AU in question]

I was going to give Cassandra half a break, actually, and let her be Eowyn.

It’d go a lot like this:

…

It’s difficult to travel incognito across open plains with a bear, so they didn’t try. They stopped before the Riders could get to them and let themselves be circled, and when Vex put her hand on her bow and Vax fingered a dagger hilt, Keyleth put her hands on both their shoulders and stepped forward. “Riders of Rohan! What news?”

The blond young man at the head of the company kept his hand on his sword, and leaned forward over his horse’s neck only warily. “I should ask the same of you. What brings two elves, a bear, and a woman to the Western mark of Rohan?”

“Hunting orcs,” said Keyleth, unflinching despite the warlike stares of the riders. “They’ve taken a couple of our friends. We want them back.”

“And who are you, to hunt orcs on our lands?”

“I am called Minxie,” she said, “and I am from the North. My companions hail from Mirkwood.” Her eyes sharpened upon a brooch on his shoulder, and armor that would be white, were it cleaner. “What brings a warrior of the Paleguard to the Western mark? Should you not be tending upon King Fredrick?”

“Fredrick is dead,” the captain said bluntly. “Percival now sits the throne, and-”

He swallowed some speech, and continued roughly, “I am Kynan. Lady Cassandra bid us here. To hunt orcs, in fact, which we have done.”

…

Whitestone was beautiful in the afternoon light. In the morning, once could suppose the pale stone that gave the city its name would sparkle with dew; in the afternoon, the sun turned them to gold and fire, so that the whole king’s palace of Rohan seemed alight.

The guards at the door held strange weapons, stocks of wood attached to cylinders of dark metal, triggers as though for crossbows where they joined. They were much like the weapons the orcs had carried, which shot pellets of metal and sounded like thunder.

“What are those damn devices of Isengard doing here?” Vex murmured to her friends.

“Maybe they’re allied after all, and we’re all about to die,” Vax murmured back. Keyleth just grimaced.

The guard they were passing, it turned out, had sharp ears. “Percival invented these weapons,” he said sharply, “who is now king. The Lady of Isengard is an ally, but how the orcs began making them, we do not know.”

“Is that the word, in Whitestone,” Gilmore said darkly. The guard blanched, but Gilmore still looked grimmest of all.

…

The Lady Cassandra was pale; the darkest thing about her the dark hair that fell in ringlets around her shoulders, and even that seemed faded, and streaked with white. She did not move upon the bed; she barely seemed to breathe.

“As I said, it was her own foolish fault,” said Percival. He was less frenetic, staring at his sleeping sister rather than the inventions of his laboratory, yet it did nothing to ease the wanness of his own face. “She raced out to the Westfold, even though I bid her stay here, and a Black Rider fell upon them. They brought her home four days ago, and she has not woken since.”

“Another grave loss,” murmured Anders. “All the more reason to keep our forces-”

“Nonsense,” Keyleth said briskly, and pushed him to the side. “Percy - that is, sire, do you have any athelas? Or kingsfoil, or-”

…

“Percival son of Fredrick, esteemed King of Rohan,” called the wizard, and her speech was proud but respectful, melodious and warm. “Why do you attack me? I have only created great works - and you have done the same! In this we are matched, and I consider it with pride, for I have only ever admired and supported the ingenuity of man. The other races, Percival, and you know thisin your heart, they lack your dynamic ability to adapt, to build upon failure so quickly that success becomes an inevitability.”

Vex and Vax rolled their eyes in mirrored motions; Keyleth pursed her lips; Kima shifted her axe with a growl and might have drawn it were it not for Allura’s hand on her shoulder. All seemed to wait on Percival, who did not speak.

Ripley continued, a hand outstretched. “If you leave this place in peace - or better, if you will come and discuss your plans with me, your thoughts for the future - I have faith that you will all succeed in your mission. And I am glad - for I have no interest in the tyranny of Mordor.”

Her words were reasonable - a mentor to a promising but wayward student, a queen to a beloved ally. Forgiving of the past and burning with passion for the future. To those who fell under its spell, it seemed inevitable that Percival would nod and ascend the steps of the tower; to those who hadn’t, it seemed equally inevitable. Gilmore watched without a word.

Percival scoffed, and looked past Ripley to where Anders crouched on the roof. “You really follow her? Are you an idiot?”

…

Get up, Vex whispered to herself, in the silence of her own mind. Quiet seemed to have fallen over the battlefield as well, or at least her small corner of it. The terrible black beast and its dark Rider demanded it. Get up, daughter of Mirkwood. Daughter of Imladris. Get up, or the idiot king you promised to protect is going to die, and so will everyone else. Vax is in that city somewhere; get up.

But it was not her hand that drew a ringing sword; it was not her voice that declared, “Begone, foul dwimmerlaik, queen of carrion! Leave the dead in peace!”

A voice as cold as a night on Weathertop hissed back, “Come not between the Nazgûl and her prey! No mortal man may hinder me, and any who try shall be borne away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shrivelled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye.”

And then Vex did look up, for what answered the Nazgûl was a laugh, bright and clear and nearly as cold, and yet bearing in it the echo of sunlight. What she saw was a young woman, standing between the Witch-Queen and the fallen steed and body of the young king of Rohan, and her sword was steady as she removed her helm to reveal dark hair streaked with white.

“But I am no man! I am Cassandra, de Rolo and shieldmaiden. I have looked on your kind before and I fear you not - but I do swear, you shall not touch my brother, for living or dark undead, I shall smite you where you stand!”

[viridian99]

CARRION CALL FOR THE ARSONIST (slbp fic)

Written by @viridian99 edited by @jemchew I whispered filthy words of encouragement into her ear, drawing her attention to the little lord’s flushed peachy cheeks, the cherry lips, the utterly debauched yet innocent look those summer sky eyes were giving us. I drew her attention to his long lashes casting shadows on his dusky cheeks, lips bitten between strong teeth to strangle a groan under Shingen’s ministrations.  The damned tiger knew what he was doing.  He threw a smirk at us. Seven hells. He was goading us, goading me. Make your choice, his eyes mocked. How could I? I was wrecked with turmoil. Shingen had grown tired of the waltz the three of us danced around each other and decided to take matters into his own hands.  I chuckled inwardly at the irony of the situation and threw back a defiant look, a smirk for a smirk. I bent down and licked the shell of the little lady’s ear without breaking eye contact. He purred and languidly threw a powerful thigh over Yukimura’s squirming hips, accidentally brushing the bulge growing there.  When it came to the Tiger of Kai very little was an accident. A loud keening sound was wrenched out of the little lord’s mouth, his eyes locked with mine, pleading in desperation. It drew an answering moaning gasp from the little lady. I lowered my voice and kept whispering filthy nothings into the little lady’s ears.  "Yes. Look at him, the pretty little lord. Look at those beautifully sculpted muscles, the trail of goose bumps and raised hair left in trail of Shingen’s teasing hands as he strokes his chest. " I whispered in her ears hoarsly. Tonight I was playing at being the devils' advocate. His fingers circled Yukimura’s pert nipples, eliciting a mewling protest and more squirming. Yukimura gazed worshipfully at his ooyakata sama, the haze of lust and alcohol turning the clear summer sky eyes cloudy. Shingen threw his head back and laughed. It rang cruelly in my ears. He kept sipping his sake nonchalantly and stroking down Yukimuras' abdomen, his muscles clenching visibly under Shingens' expert touch. The tiger kept throwing challenging looks at us.  He removed his restraining leg from Yukimura and said, “There now, you have to show us how much of a man you are, my boy.” In an instant he was up and climbing on top of Shingen’s lap intending to tackle him. Foolish little lord, this was no wrestling match. Shingen flipped him casually with one hand like an afterthought and restrained him again, resuming his stroking, but this time at his exposed thighs. “You have a long way to go, cub,” he chuckled.  I took a strawberry and put it in the little lady’s hand. “Don’t you want to crush it between his lips in your hands and lick the juices as they move down, little lady? Suck his lips and bite them? Suckle his tongue until he is a moaning mess? Don’t you want to see him fall apart? See those eyes look at you in desperation?” I moved my hands up her shoulder and stroked her arms rhythmically. She trembled under my touch just as Yukimura did under Shingen’s.  Gods, I wanted to replace Shingen’s hand with my own. Instead I stoked her swollen breasts and she squirmed and moaned wantonly, mirroring the little lord. Oh, how they fit each other. These creatures of light. Summer and spring. They were made for each other. Apollo and Aphrodite. If Shingen was made of flame and fire, the mighty Vulcan, then Yukimura was the sunlight like Apollo, and she was his Venus and Hera wrapped in one and I, the Hades of the group, had no right to be here. She was no Persephone to bring spring to the underworld. So I gave her a push and she moved to the little lord as if in a daze. Shingen moved aside and continued sipping his sake, regarding the tableau unfolding in front of him with a mischievous look, as if saying my work here was done.  Oh, you bastard. You set fire to us and now you want to sit back and enjoy the flames going down. Damned if these flames don’t bring you down too.  My notorious poker face would not give way to my true feelings. I placed a strawberry in Yukimura’s lips, uncharacteristically docile and completely at our mercy. Had Shingen slipped him something? I would not put it beyond him. I guided the little lady’s hand to crush the strawberry, and the juices cascaded down Yukimura’s lips and coated my fingers.  I made to withdraw my hand.  Then, all at once, the little lady flipped the tables on me. She grasped my hand and licked my fingers softly, sucking the juices off of them and I froze instantly, paralysed, as if struck by lightning, unable to move away. She gazed at me seductively under her lashes. Well done, little lady, you are a quick learner, I almost applauded out loud. Instead I looked at the little lord gazing rapturously at his goddess. I knew it in my bones that if I asked they would both accept me into their world of sunlight with arms wide open. I threaded my hands through my little lord’s impossibly soft hair and the other hand through the little lady’s long locks in benediction, as if blessing this union, and brought their heads together.  They needed no encouragement.  The little lady crushed the strawberry in between Yukimura’s lips and sucked at them, licking the juices escaping from the sides of his mouth. Shingen snorted, apparently not amused at the farce unfolding in front of him. Yukimura’s hands moved to her waist as they ground against each other, increasingly unaware of their surroundings. Another moment and I was sure Yukimura would have the little lady flipped under him.  I got up to leave. My job here was done. Sliding open the door I moved to stand on the veranda, my back turned to the house on fire I just exited.  “Didn’t take you for a coward, Saizo. They would accept you. The both of them. All of you,” the Tiger remarked quietly. “Would you walk away?” “Anything is possible,” I answered non-commitaly and stepped out into the frigid rain. I hated the rain. It did nothing to douse the fire raging inside me.  In my hubris I called myself Hades. The truth was sadder. I was nothing but Chiron, payed six pence to row people to the after life. I needed a lesson in humility. This was as good as any kick in the gut I would get. I had a suspicion that I would walk with a knife in my heart (if I ever did possess such an appendage) for the rest of my life. No regrets, no apologies.  There is no crime if you have no regrets. This was my mantra since forever. What happened to me? I gave up any claim to the last vestiges of light inside me. I squelched it with my own blood sullied hands. In the distance I could hear the crow cawing. The carrion call, I thought ironically. How fitting considering the occasion. I killed all my life, without regret and remorse. I carried the ghosts of the dead with me. Today it felt as if I carried a dead body inside of my very core. Was it a tomb or a shrine? Did it really matter? It was dedicated to my beloved Apollo and Aphrodite. My sun, and home, and hearth and love. Yes, maybe I was no better than a vulture. Feeding on the dead and dying. I became synonymous with carrion. Or was it a cadaver when applied to humans? But then I am no longer human. Not any more. I had no right to be with the living. I was soaked to the bone in the rain and yet the raging storm inside me had yet to quiet down. I never felt so empty and defeated in my life. Rationality explained my decision as the optimal course for the two most beloved people in my life. Yet why did I have this unfathomable feeling of sorrow? Why this yearning that once, just once, if either of them had laid a hand on my arm and stopped me from leaving; if either of them had called out my name and asked me to stay; would I have stayed? Had I stayed on my own my presence would have been welcomed, but was I not actively desired by them?  I raised my head to look at the pitch dark sky. The rain was freezing cold but why was hot rain streaking down my face? I hadn’t cried in ages. Standing here in the frigid rain, it was easy to let the tears cascade down my face and have it camouflaged by the downpour. My regret, my repentance, the blood I shed, all of it chipping at my soul. As always when it rained I ran away from the regrets I carried, not as ghosts but as very real burdens, alive and breathing, perhaps even more alive than my own being. An irony since a moment ago I convinced myself I committed no crimes, ergo I was free of regrets.  I should have been free.  My whole life I lived in this dichotomy. Torn by my duality. Tonight’s handiwork gives no solace to me. There is no absolution for cowards like me. I am forever doomed to scratch at my scabs and drown myself in the pain whenever I wish to feel alive. To feel any semblance of something. That is my curse, my cross to carry for all my days; the tomb I carry inside me, inside of my darkness, where I find the shrine in memory of their sunlight, and the knife in my heart, and all remnants of the person I was.  A new version of myself had to be born today.I needed some time to myself. Perhaps take up a bloody and violent mission from the village. The normalcy of killing, of taking away life, of watching blood flow and seep through my hands might restore some balance to my world, bring sanity to my mind.  A sneaking voice whispered a wish for death to take me on one of my missions, so that next time, instead of being Chiron, maybe, just maybe, I would be the one rowed across the river styx after paying my six coins.But will six coins be enough to pay my dues? —————— Standing on the veranda, Shingen watches as the Lord Assassin melts into the dark. “Maybe I shouldn’t have meddled,” he murmurs under his breath. He turns to look at the pair in the room entwined in rapture and slides the door shut on them, feet echoing woefully into the night.

[dansnaturepictures]

11/10/2020-Phalarope paradise at Pennington: The 10 pictures in this photoset different to those I tweeted just now 

As you may have seen we went to Bushy Park yesterday on our big wildlife watching and photography trip which is a part of a day trip we do every year which I loved and was one of the best times of our year without a doubt. I always try to not do trips like that further afield with so many photos and sightings on a Sunday and have to go to work the next day (even when it’s working from home) it just makes me tired and hard to find motivation for the morning and fully cool down from the trip a bit so after the weather putting us off Bushy last Saturday Bushy was locked in for yesterday. On Friday we learned of the mega bird a Wilson’s Phalarope with Grey Phalaropes at Pennington in the Lymington-Keyhaven nature reserve at the foot of the New Forest. We instantly knew we’d go there today then we didn’t even have to decide. In hindsight I can say that phalaropes do stay around a few days it seems when they do turn up as they are always birds blown in by Atlantic storms on migration and that’s how they end up in Britain they stay a few days to feed up before flying off again. But I have got to say I did just have a little feeling of slight desperation last night as every tweet I clicked on seemed to be have a picture of the Wilson’s Phalarope! Which is remarkable in itself really. 

People from Hampshire and far and wide (as we observed in person here today for the latter) were coming to my beloved local and one of my favourite nature reserves and getting criminally close views of this very rare and stunning bird and the Grey Phalaropes that I needed to see for my year list too. I just had in my head that I’d feel maybe a bit bad if I missed it being at one of my spots but I had one of my best times of the year at Bushy so I would never have regretted going there and I would not have swapped it for the world yesterday. And finishing the weekend off at Pennington worked it’s a trip much more suited to a Sunday being half an hour to forty five minutes away from us. And I have a feeling yesterday in terms of social distancing many people would be there. Today it’s a Sunday so perhaps some people do other things and there were not hoards here today and it was easy to socially distance when here today. The feelings of “I want to go and see this” gave me interesting twitcher’s vibes. 

So with the strong memories of Bushy still engulfing me in amazement of the experience yesterday I was also so excited to get back to Pennington for the first time since last month on a very sunny afternoon today. I took the first three pictures in this photoset of nice views here today. As we walked down to fishtail lagoon the one that usually always hosts the rare birds interestingly here where the Wilson’s Phalarope had been seen we got binoculars views over the lagoon and noticed a phalarope fly and land by a bank. It was so tall compared the grey and red-necked we are familiar with which the Wilson’s is so we were sure this was the bird. 

We then got down to the lagoon on the pathway and walked towards some people. To our delight right beside the path in the channel south of the lagoon was one of the two Grey Phalaropes around! Like we had seen of one further down here in 2017 we got stunning views of it. It really was so close, it did not seem bothered by people at all. It was simply amazing views and I loved watching it swim down the channel. My first of the year. 

The Wilson’s Phalarope had flown out into the lagoon so we looked for it. Someone then spotted it by the fence of the lagoon coming into the channel further up. The channel is a flooded bit of ground outside of the fence really. We walked down and were astounded to see it right beside us in the water as it swam in and out of reeds. We got absolutely stunning and remarkable views of it. I took the fourth and fifth pictures in this photoset of this incredible bird. This one wasn’t bothered by people either and we just saw this smashing and beautiful bird so close. It was a dreamlike experience to see a bird like this so close. Special stuff. I was in my element watching it as phalaropes do swim up and back along the channel. It showed off its attractive yellow legs at certain points and got on with what it was doing without a care in the world. It even tried to get back through the fence onto the main lagoon at one point which was interesting to see. 

So this is a new bird for me, my sixth this year now only one behind how many I saw last year and level with how many I saw in 2017. It’s my 272nd bird in my life and with the Grey Phalarope my first of the year today takes my bird year list to 186. So my year list is still solidly my third highest ever for amount seen on this date behind last year and 2018, I am only four behind my 2017 total now. But this for seeing a new bird this was something else. The last time I got views this good for a new species I think was my first Crested Tits at RSPB Loch Garten in the Cairngorms in January 2018 and the Barred Warbler at Titchfield Haven weeks before it at the end of 2017. It was telling it was a good view of a new bird as for the pictures I took of it I didn’t use my bridge camera so long distance specialist once but used my DSLR and big lens the whole time it was that close which this camera and lens is so good for usually to see something new now it’s gotta be rare like this was so it’d be a long way away but that’s not always how it works with phalaropes. They are known to be approachable because they can be a bird of the wilderness in their natural range so are less used to humans so seeing them come and behave like this here is quite something. 

We walked on up to Keyhaven lagoon and back noting decent numbers of Wigeon and Shoveler which was really interesting to see some coming in for the winter now, we also got chatting to some lovely people as we did for the whole walk and twitch today who pointed out a Peregrine to us the first we had seen for a while. We also took in some great views as the sun came back after going in a bit including the sixth and seventh pictures in this photoset. When we walked back beside fishtail lagoon the Grey Phalarope was still parading up and down in the channel of water so close to us. We took in more stunning views of this beautiful bird that we missed seeing last year but was now my eighth occasion of seeing one, once in 2009 here, twice here in 2017 as well as at Blashford Lakes and Hayling Island oysterbeds that autumn, twice in 2018 on the River Itchen at Riverside Park and here the next day the same day we saw another new bird the Temminck’s Stint and now today. I took the eighth picture in this photoset of this lovely bird. It was so close I had the idea to take some phone videos of the bird. 

We walked up to the proper channel of water east of fishtail lagoon where followed by observers the Wilson’s Phalarope had moved to. We got more sensational views of it here coming so close to many of us swimming along and I took phone videos of this too all of which I shared posts of from my Instagram earlier and tweeted whilst out today many people were doing the phone videos it was an interesting quirk of this twitch symbolic as another person remarked of how incredibly close the bird was to us. It was so delightful to watch the Wilson’s Phalarope as the bird swam about in the later afternoon sunlight. A real fantastic autumnal moment and stunning birdwatching one. I took the ninth and tenth pictures in this photoset of the Wilson’s Phalarope. A great vibe and atmosphere we were all so in aw of the bird. 

Before we left we saw the Ruff with a white head that we saw here our first of the year in February with another of its kind which was nice I tweeted a picture of that. This ended one of my best and happiest times of the year this weekend and ever. I saw sensational wildlife and views and took so many pictures. The two trips further afield and local complimented each other so well I think. It was two perfect high standard days to follow each other in great weather. Such joyful times I shall never forget this weekend! Thanks so much for sharing it with me and all your appreciation shown. I hope you are all keeping safe and well. Have a nice week.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first ever Wilson’s Phalarope, my first Grey Phalarope of the year, two of my favourite birds the Peregrine Falcon and Little Egret, Cormorant, Black-headed Gull, great view of an Oystercatcher and many more, Lapwing, lots of Curlews which was nice, Ringled Plover, Turnstone, Redshank, Wigeon, Shoveler, Pintail, Mallard, Coot, Meadow Pipit, Carrion Crow, Woodpigeon, lots of late Swallows today which was nice to see flying around, Pied Wagtail and Large White butterfly.