#monsters and mistakes

[kolormixstudios]

GOING TO CELEBRATE TIME'S BLESSING'S 5 YEAR ANNIVERSARY WITH SOME FAMILIAR FACES AND GOING THROUGH A LOT OF OLD STUFF... with some new things to come. ;)

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

Birds chirp just outside the thick glass windows calling you from a deep sleep. You can see a bit of that light winter sun shine through the curtains, barely enough to brighten the room.

In his room every breath you take smells like him. In his bed the sheets are warm and soft, just like him. The chilly air forces you to burrow further into the covers as you regain consciousness and your muscles begin to stir. You stretch a little, teasing the sleep from your tendons, weighed down by the heavy arm around you. You hear a deep rumble from behind you as your lover stirs but quickly settles back into sleep, snoring softly.

You suddenly have the strong urge to turn around, you can feel him, you can smell him, you can hear him, you just want to see him. You try to turn around as gently as possible, twisting your waist under his arm and trying so hard not to stir your sleeping giant. A memory comes to mind of the first time you woke up in his arms like this, how you almost fell off his chest and he only stirred a little with the motion. Now that you think of it, he was fully awake only a few moments later, just in time to catch you admiring his face, awfully convenient. Your sleepy mind lights up and you eye your lover's sleeping face with new suspicion.

He breathes like he’s asleep, slow and rhythmic. His eyes are closed but he's not snoring anymore. You stare intently at his eyes, looking for any signs of consciousness, while your hands slowly move from his chest up to his shoulders. You take your time admiring him, like the first time except now, instead of being spurred by bewilderment and curiosity, there is actual admiration and love behind the action.

Your fingers flutter up his bare chest as you lean closer on your elbow. You lightly scratch at his stubble and see his lips twitch upwards just the tiniest bit, it breaks a smile onto your face. When your fingers make it to his cheek, you cup the fat there. One of his eyes squint open, trying to go unnoticed but obviously failing when he sees you looking right at him. He quickly shuts his eye again and snorts when he knows he's been caught, and you sit up, pushing him away while laughing, your suspicion now confirmed.

“You bastard!”

You push at his shoulders, and he laughs openly now, a raspy sound, thick with sleep.

“You were awake the whole time, even that first time!”

You shout accusations he doesn't understand, shaking his shoulders in faux anger and genuine embarasment. He finally fights back against your playful pushing by sitting up and wrapping his arm around your waist, also managing to grab a wrist. He brings your hand to his cheek, holding it there as he stared down at you in his lap. He makes it clear he wants you to touch him like that again while he's awake with all the admiration and curiosity you do when you think he's asleep. And you do, combing stray strands of hair from his face then moving down to tentatively touch his pretty tusks. You move in closer to look at the pretty carvings on them, blinking up at his eyes, which stare at your lips lazily. You inch closer and even closer until your lips barely graze his. And then you pull away, barely giving him time to grab for you before you hop off the large bed and dawdle your way to the bathroom.

You snicker as you hear him shout something like the orcish equivalent of “Hey!” You grab a cup and fill it with water from the water barrel in the bathroom, before grabbing the wooden toothbrush you got a while back from a travelling merchant and smearing on some minty herbal toothpaste.

The orc grumbles into the room and you grin at him as he grabs his own toothbrush, which is almost comically bigger than yours. After brushing the sleep off your tongue, you rinse your mouth with the cup of water, it tastes stale but it gets the job done. He does the same but you watch in curiosity as smears on a second glob of toothpaste before he starts brushing his tusks. You don't know why it hasn't occurred to you but it seems obvious now, he clearly takes very good care of them if they look that pretty, with all the careful carvings in the bone coloured ivory.

When he's done you walk to the kitchen, trying to not feel so unfamiliar with his home. The freezing cold tile of the kitchen is starting to feel atleast a little familiar, like the smell of the kitchen; doughy with hints of something earthy you can't name. You shiver as you reach for two mugs from the cupboard you saw him place your mugs in. He yawns and stretches in the doorway, as you look through the draws for a spoon.

He reaches over you to grab his own mug, placing his hand on your waist for an unneeded amount of time and then grabs the kettle placing it over the cast iron. You mull over what to drink, you don't want to drink up all your red tea, who knows when or if you’ll ever get more. Your lover opens another cupboard and pulls out a jar of cream-coloured powder, one brown coloured powder and a jar filled with a golden syrup. You watch him scoop a teaspoon full of the cream-coloured powder into his mug and then a much smaller amount of the brown powder that smells like cinnamon but is definitely not. You’ve realised now what he’s making and you push your mug closer to his, very subtly asking for a cup yourself. He looks down at you, gives you an amused huff and then plops some powder into your cup as well, along with a generous dollop of what is definitely honey.

You barely try to hide how you’re staring at him and you can tell by his slight smile that he can feel it. He finally turns to you when he’s done and leans against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. You hesitate for a moment now that you have his attention. Remembering your actions yesterday, he seems to like it when you’re upfront about your desires. You try to remember that as you place your hands on his chest and lean into him, gaze flicking between his eyes and his mouth. He cocks his head in response, even though you both know what you want. For some unknown reason, you can’t will yourself to just ask for a simple kiss, so you try and take it instead. He can’t help but chuckle when you start trying to climb him to reach your prize.

After a few moments of watching you struggle, he places his hands behind your thighs and lifts you up. The sudden movement makes you hit your knee on the kitchen counter and you yelp in pain, rubbing the sore skin while the orc places you on the counter. He looks down at the already bruising skin and bends down to sheepishly kiss the area, looking up at you apologetically with slightly darker cheeks. You laugh and place a hand on his cheek, he looks beautiful from this angle and you express that to him by leaning down to kiss him. He hums into the kiss, hands gently caressing up your thighs. Your hands roam his muscly back as he kisses you until your head is backed up against the cupboards, only allowing him to deepen the kiss further and-

The screaming kettle interrupts your intimacy and he gives an exaggerated sigh. Ignoring your snort he pours the hot water while you help with breakfast preparations.

After you eventually finish breakfast, he sits on the couch and you browse around his bookshelf. You pull a few of the cartography looking ones out and place them on the living room table, getting your pencil ready. He perks up and looks over when you slide over the finished note.

“You draw maps?”

Simple question to start. He nods his head.

You wait for him to write something down and elaborate but he just nods as if that’s the only question he expects you to ask about it. You fumble or a moment and slide the paper back to you, writing;

“Can I see?”

He seems surprised by that, like he didn’t expect you to care or ask about it. He nods and stands up, bringing the pencil and book. You follow him to the bedroom where he stands in front of the large map on the wall, placing the pencil and book down on the desk below it. He looks over to you, like he wants to confirm that you’re actually paying attention, and points to an orcish word on the map near the middle, gesturing to himself and the ground.

You light up a little and say,

“That's here?”

While gesturing down, he nods his head looking pleased that you understood and that he understood at least your gesture if not your words. He then points towards a point near the far right edge of the map, and points to you. It takes you a moment but when you realise that the bold line separating the two halves of the map is the Human-Orcish boarder, it becomes clear.

“That’s where I lived?”

While gesturing to yourself, he nods again. You look back at the map and notice that much of the right side past the bold line is blank, there's only a dot for your cabin, some trees and a lake.

You now have many questions and you go through them trying to figure out how to word them. When you grab your pencil and page through your translation book, you huff in frustration when you realise your questions are too long and messy to write down. You close the book and point to the lake on the map with your pencil,

“You found me here? When you saved me?”

After a moment he nods,

“Is that why you went past the boarder? You were drawing a map?”

You’d wondered what the hell he was doing just roaming around in human territory. He nods to you and says something about “drawing” while pointing at the area around the lake, then he says something, points to his ear and you catch the word “save”.

So he was mapping out the area, heard the ice crack and you fall in, and decided to bring you back home instead of letting you die. You just stare at the map for a little, as much as you want to berate him for crossing the boarder like that, if he hadn’t been there that day you’d certainly be at the bottom of that lake right now. The thought weighs heavier than you’d like.

You look over the map to try and distract yourself with the thick black inked symbols and sketches. On the far side of the map, deep in orcish territory, it looks like the land just stops. Maybe it’s another boarder or a river within Orc territory that he can’t cross. You point to the squiggly line with a confused face. He scratches his stubble, shrugs and says a word you don’t recognise. You look at him blankly and he huffs a laugh. He says a different word you don’t know, moving his hand up and down like he’s mimicking a snake or something. You still clearly don’t understand and he grabs the translation book, paging through it and pointing out a word for you.

“Sea”

You stare at the word in disbelief, that can’t be true, you’ve only ever heard stories of the sea. You look back at the map with scrunched eyebrows, It’s further away from his house than the distance between your house and his but that can only be half a days walk at most. There’s no way you spent your whole life not knowing the sea was a couple hours hike from your home. You look up at him and shake your head, and he just nods back to you. You cross your arms and fully turn to face him, looking a lot more serious. He fumbles a little at the earnestness on your face and gently takes the pencil from your fist, writing in the notebook.

“I can show you.”

You read it and soften a bit, nodding your head. You wonder if it looks like the drawings you’ve seen in books or if it really tastes as salty as they say.

The next hour or so is spent making lunch to carry with you to your destination. You pack the hard dough bread, berries and some dried meats into his rucksack and meet your lover in the living room. He tries not to laugh when you write to him asking if he’s sure it’s the actual sea and not a very big lake. He has a smaller map with him, one of just a small portion of orcish territory, he shows you the map and points towards where he’s drawn three little circles on the map that lie between his house and the alleged sea. He then points to his notebook which says,

“First bath then beach and lunch!”

You look at his written words then back at the map, so those three circles are little lakes? or maybe ponds? You suppose it might be warm enough to bathe but to hike what must be a couple of hours right after a cold bath is a bit drastic. You could absolutely do with a good clean though, you haven’t bathed since before you fled your home and a lot has happened since then. Your lover stands at the door, shoving his boots on and checking if he has everything he needs. You tuck the two books safely into your coat as you walk out the door into the chill outdoor air.

The sun tries it’s best to shine through the clouds as you walk amongst the trees, the ground snow has melted somewhat making traversing the landscape a bit easier. You’re walking behind the massive orc, staring at the neatly drawn map in your hands. You’ve found out you aren’t the best at reading maps as it turns out. Your lover very graciously had to reorientate the map in your hands multiple times and that didn’t even help you read it any better.

You’ve been walking a while and you have no idea where you are on this damn map. You hear your lover say something and you hum in acknowledgement still trying to read his map, until he moves your chin up and right in front of you is a beautiful steaming hot spring. Three little hotsprings actually, attached to a rocky incline in the forest ground. You look down at the map and then up again and then to your lover who lets out a very amused laugh.

You follow him to the nearest spring and dip your hand in, gasping as the hot water shocks your cold skin. You waste no time undressing, your lover doing the same, you step into the water and let out a genuine moan as the hot water seeps into your frost bitten bones. When your love steps into the pool the water overflows with his sheer mass making you laugh lighly.

He pulls a block of soap out of his pack and starts rubbing himself down with it, clearly this is his usual bathing arrangement which is a massive improvement from the freezing lake next to your cabin. The bastard, no wonder he has such soft skin and hair, especially for a damn woodsman. You scoff at him and he just gives you a confused look to which you shake your head and motion for him to pass the soap. Soon you feel cleaner than you have in a long, long time as you scrub the grime off your body, the sticky sweaty feeling finally being washed away.

The orc smiles endearingly at his lover, clearly pleased that you’re enjoying your hot bath so much. He unties his hair from the loose half bun it’s been in since he woke up and starts washing the thick mane. He pulls a wooden comb out his pack and starts untangling the strands. You’d heard that orcs take pride in their hair, you assumed this must have been to signal wealth or higher class or something. Your lover would have no use in that though so there must be some other reason? Maybe he’s just particular about hygiene. You’re completely unaware of how unabashedly you’re staring at him as you become lost in these thoughts. It doesn't go unnoticed by him though, he smiles at the thought of having to get used to it.

You watch him brush the comb through his hair, stretching to try and reach some troublesome knots in the back. You nudge closer and motion for him to give you the comb to which he hesitates. You retract your outstretched hand and look at him questioningly. You can’t parse his expression, surprised, hesitant, bashful maybe? When you’re about to shift away from him he reaches out and puts the comb in your hand. You move slowly behind him, a little worried by his earnestness at what you perceived as a simple gesture.

You gently untangle his knots, patiently brushing the twisted strands until they come free. He hums in thanks whenever you smooth the comb across his scalp after a successful untangling. You both enjoy the quiet atmosphere, its always like this with him, calm and comfortable. No pressure to entertain or engage, as if just existing near each other is all the comfort needed.

Your shoulders and breasts are exposed to the cold air and as you finish up brushing down the now tangle free locks a breeze blows past that makes your whole body shiver. You plunge back into the hot water and your orc looks back at you and chuckles. You click your tongue, of course he doesn’t feel the cold, the hot blooded bastard. You curl your arms around him from behind, pushing your perked nipples into his back. You feel him tense but you know it’s not because of the cold. You run your hands up and down his stomach and chest. It seems admiring your lovers body is becoming a frequent past time of yours.

He grunts a little when your hands wonder lower, following the black hair on his stomach as it thickens further down. He places a hand on yours as a gentle warning, as if you don’t know what you’re doing. You place your cheek against his warm back and reach deeper until you finally touch the base of his cock. He sighs as you wrap your hand around him, and thank the gods he can’t see your face. He might not have appreciated the look of absolute shock and a little horror on your face. It’s not your fault, your hand barely fits around him! You knew he was going to be big, obviously, but that’s just frightening. He groans low, and you realise you’ve kept your hand still for far too long, unintentionally teasing the poor guy.

You slowly move your hand up, one slow stroke all the way up his length and you are once again shocked by the size of him. You swore it didn’t feel that huge when you were grinding against him the other night. When you finally reach the head you stroke your thumb across the tip and he lets out a whine. A rather high pitched noise for an orc like him, not unlike the whines he made when you both came in your underwear on his living room floor.

He covers his mouth with a wet hand and the action makes you confused. You swipe your thumb across his tip again trying to get another sound from him. He shivers once more but any sound he makes is smothered by his hand, robbing you of any sweet whines. You huff indignantly and when you’re about to move your hand again he catches it and keeps it still on his cock, breathing into his hand. You’re somewhat puzzled by his embarrassment, especially since he was the one who quelled your anxieties the first time. You have to do the same for him and apparently your version of easing his apprehension was to pull the sounds out of him by force. With the hand he wasn’t holding you reached down past his cock and cupped his massive sack in your hand.

He lets out a rather high pitched yelp and his whole body jolts up at the no doubt unfamiliar touch. You burst out laughing and as he splashes water at you which does nothing to smother your laugh. He gives an incredulous look, you can only wheeze in response, which makes him splash more water at you as if that will hide his dark green cheeks. You wade over to him, saying apologies before being pulled up abruptly into his arms, your top half once again being exposed to the cold as he grumbles and hides his hot face in your chest. You can tell he isn’t really upset but you still feel bad, this gentle love doesn’t come easy to you like it seems to for him and it probably never will. You run your hands through his hair and mumble apologies to him,

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, my love, I was trying to do the opposite. I’m sorry.”

You know he doesn’t understand what you’re saying but you know he likes it when you speak to him in your language. He gazes up at you from between your tits and you smile down at him. You hesitate before attempting an apology in orcish, which makes him huff a laugh into your skin and clutch you closer. Does this mean your forgiven? He runs his massive hands all the way down from your waist to your knees and back up. You smile down at him, having this massive orc make himself smaller so he can look up at you like this, it makes you feel so…wanted? loved? worthy? You don’t know the word but it makes your heart sing.

Another breeze blows by and you shiver again, nipples hardening and skin prickling up with goosebumps. The orc snickers at you from below, reaching up to oh so gently stroke a hardened nipple with his thumb. You shiver and keen, before you even realise it your hand shoots up to cover your mouth and you only realise this when you see the very smug look on his face. He's exposed you as a hypocrite without even saying anything.

You try and push him away in irritation but he holds you against him, slowly pulling you down until the water reaches your chest and you’re straddling him. You feel something against your stomach and you freeze. Actually feeling his cock against you, so close to your pussy stirs such a blazing heat in your stomach you think you must be sick for a second.

You look down and feel your breath hitch at the massive cock just below the surface of the water, it rests just above your belly button, hot and hard. You notice that he isn’t touching you any more and you look up to see he’s avoiding looking at you and his hands rest at his thighs. You lean up and place a hand on his cheek, he finally looks at you and you can tell he feels bad. Why? You have no idea. Is he ashamed or just shy? Is it something else? You move your body even closer to his, and mutter a little “It’s ok.” Not sure what else to say or how to convey it.

You think he gets the meaning by how you say it. He lets you push him down gently until his back is resting in the edge of the spring, head being supported by the big smooth rocks laid there. You place his hands on your hips and settle your weight down, his cock now pushing your pussy lips apart. You both moan, finally feeling the direct skin to skin contact has your brain buzzing and his too it seems.

You move slowly, dragging your pussy up the length of his cock, feeling the girth under you as you grind up his entire length. When you reach the tip you circle your hole around it, teasing the entrance with something you know you can’t take, at least not yet. He hisses and bites his lip, trying to hold himself back again and the action makes you sad.

You lean down, squishing your chest against his and wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him close. You nuzzle into his cheek, kissing from his ear to his tusk and looking him in the eye when you grind lightly into his tip, breath catching when the tip brushes your clit. You moan, as unabashedly as you can manage, trying to show him that you aren’t embarrassed by how good he makes you feel and that he doesn't have to be embarrassed by how good you make him feel either.

You lean forward and let him seal the kiss, letting his hot tongue mix with yours as you share moans and taste each others desires. You grind harder, longer thrusts up and down his cock, gradually speeding up as both your needs grow and your holds tighten.

He gets more confident with leading you, his hands on your thighs helping you grind down on him as the water sloshes and spills over with every thrust. He guides your hips up and down his shaft while jerking his hips in time. You both work in tandem, mouths never leaving each other for too long, you share hot breathes and groans as the pleasure rises each second. You clutch onto his shoulders and he grips your hips, both of you now feverishly humping one another, release so close.

All it takes is a few more well timed thrusts, his tip catches your clit and the forest is filled with the sounds of your shared ecstasy. You clench and shake against his cock as he thrusts against you, holding you so close, releasing his spend in the water with another loud grown. You both twitch and heave, bodies squished together, reeling from your orgasms. Your lover rests his head against the smooth rocks, breaths hot and thick in the chilly air. You look down and notice the now murky water below you and you let out a tired laugh, you’ll have to rinse off of in one of the other pools.

You lay there in the steamy water as the sensitive quiver in your pussy simmers into a dull ache. After a minute you sigh and lift yourself up before being immediatly thwarted by your lover who just grumbles, almost growls, and squeezes you closer to his chest. He makes it very clear that you’re not moving until he is done with his post sex cuddles. You have no choice but to comply, resting against your orcs chest watching the steam evaporate off his skin.

When you're finally done in the hot springs, your fingers are pruney but your muscles are relaxed. You had to get dried and dressed rather quickly with the volatile late winter air seeping into your skin the moment you stepped out of the heavenly hot water, as if the winter is offended that you tried to get warm at all. You wrap your hair in a cloth and cover it with your fur coat, lest the cold freeze down to your brain. Of course your orc lover doesn’t seem to mind as much as you do, simply tying his drying hair into a bun and throwing up the hood of his coat as if it were a mildly cold spring day.

Your lover takes then reins with the map this time and you walk for awhile more, until you notice the air smells different, more salty, and you can hear unfamiliar bird squawks. Your lover quickly turns around and motions for you to cover your eyes with your hands, you give him a blank look leading him to huff and do it himself. Covering your eyes with one hand and leading you with the other, you walk up an incline and then stop at the flattened top. He says something in orcish and then removes his hand, and you are completable and utterly speechless.

Blue. An incomprehensibly large amount of blue, as far as the eye can see and far beyond that. It moves and churns, little white waves in the distance and huge rolling ones crashing on the shore. It completely takes your breath away, the sound of the waves, the smell of sea salt, there’s even a portion of the sky where the clouds break and the endless blue sky meets the endless sea. The orc chuckles light-heartedly at your reaction and starts putting down a blanket and setting up lunch. You're so overcome with excitement you can’t even stop yourself from tackling him onto the blanket and giving him the biggest fattest kiss you can muster through your smile. You separate with a smack and he laughs dizzily. All this time such a beautiful sight has been a few hours from your home and you never knew it, all because of some damn boarder.

You spend hours there, munching on sandwiches, writing notes, watching the birds fly over the crashing waves. One of them tries to steal your sandwich when you get too distracted with your lover and you had to chase it down while he laughed. He takes you down to the sand and convinces you to step into the incoming waves which were even colder than you expected. He laughs at the face you make when you taste the salty water on your fingers. You pick up common shells and show them to him as if they’re rare gems. You carve symbols into the sand and watch them get washed away.

At the end of it you both sit on the grassy hill overlooking the beach, watching the sunset over the horizon.

You wonder what other marvels of the world you have yet to see.

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<- Previous

End ?

[myassuter]

If Malik was in YGO ss0, he would be that mysterious friend who has a hidden identity.

[jayktoralldaylong]

I love that the villain of Mouthwashing is not some outer space monster, it's not a science experiment broken free from a lab, it's not even a man with an obvious stereotypical mental illness.

It's a man with self esteem problems. A selfish cowardly man who so badly wanted to be praised for doing the bare minimum. A man who let envy bite through the hand that fed him. Cause sometimes the worst monsters are the ones that are the most human. And everyone died and suffered because one man (Curly this time) kept making excuses for that one weak link (Jimmy).

I also love that the crew in Mouthwashing didn't die because Jimmy went around hacking them up. They died because of his poor leadership decisions. The leadership that he so badly believed that he could do better than Curly.

- Anya was already stressed out from the assault and she was on the edge of a mental breakdown, Jimmy responded to that by shouting at her. 💀 Girl chugged down that pill bottle like it was water.

- Daisuke was an intern, he just did whatever he was told, eager to impress Jimmy. Jimmy says climb the vents, Daisuke climbed the vents. The vents collapsed on Daisuke.

Jimmy then tries to disinfect the wound with Mouthwashing, mind you Anya had earlier mentioned that using the chemical would only make wounds worse. Swansea reminded him of this. Jimmy ignores him. Proceeds to aggravate Daisuke's wounds so bad they Swansea has to mercy kill him.

- Swansea is an old man and 'life in prison' does not mean so much to him anymore. Plus, Jimmy has stepped on his last nerve. Swansea tries to kill Jimmy. Jimmy shoots him.

A domino of events that look like accidents, all avoidable if Jimmy listened, if Jimmy calmed down, if Jimmy did not act so darned arrogant and demanding all the darn time. And now he's left in a ship of corpses, but Curly is still there........

So Jimmy does what he does best.

He blames Curly (and then Jimmy finally has a mental breakdown).

[demigods-posts]

headcanon that percy and annabeth routinely swap weapons in battle. it's not a concious feat. it's just that they consider themselves a single unit when fighting for their lives. so their partner's weapon is also their weapon.

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[biblicalhorror]

Thinking about how Pete used to be a priest and Kevin's (unnamed) mom was a nun. The fact that Pete was clearly stripped of his title. And we don't hear anything about Kevin's mother beyond the fact that she's dead. Thinking about how Diane says that she thinks of Pete as her "creepy uncle" and hates him. Thinking about how Kevin being born was likely a huge scandal for Pete and his mother and led to him being kicked out of the church. Thinking about how Pete doesn't seem to have any remorse at all for the potential abuse of power that occurred which led to Kevin's conception. Thinking about how Pete was the one most likely to make jokes objectifying women with Kevin. Thinking about how Kevin was likely raised believing he was some sort of miracle or chosen one, destined for great things solely because acknowledgment of the shame surrounding the circumstances of his birth would require Pete admitting fault. Thinking about how normalized it must have been in his childhood to see women being talked down to, objectified, sexualized and made into nothing more than plot devices to powerful men. Thinking about the sense of entitlement he must have had baked into him, and the deep fear hiding underneath all of it that one day everyone is going to realize he's his father's biggest skeleton in the closet. Thinking about this show having one of the most nuanced and complex portrayals of the cycle of abuse and patriarchal violence that I've ever seen!!!

[an-established-butt-dent]

Dragon age: the Veilguard

What I imagine the cover of a comic about the Dreadwolf looks like.

[gremlin-bunny]

Monster trio poster/ album cover idk

Inspired by @ford-owner band au

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

A gentle brush along your hairline coaxes you from sleep and another against your cheek has your eyes fluttering open. Your hazy eyes take in the orc, lying on his side next to you.

The rough pads of his fingertips lightly brush a few stray hairs back as he takes in every part of your face like he'll forget if he looks away for even a second. The emotions his eyes hold are far too much for you to handle, especially after just waking up from what feels like a rather deep nap. You probably haven't slept that well since the first time you slept against his warm body, except that was in his living room.

He cups your cheek and caresses the cold skin with his thumb. His warm hand brings a shiver to your body and he chuckles before bringing you in closer. He hugs you close in such a warm loving embrace, you have to hold in the urge to push away from the sheer overwhelming affection. You allow yourself to bury your face into his warm neck, breathing in his scent.

Your hands reach out to soak up some more warmth and it's then that you remember he's not wearing a shirt, meaning he slept on your couch without even a blanket or anything covering his upper half. Do orcs just have boiling hot blood or something? Maybe he's part dragon?

The arm he has slung over you is so big and heavy, it's making you feel confined but in a way that isn't making you panic. It's rather nice to be engulfed by him. His legs are intertwined with yours, snugly rubbing together the thick material of your winter pants.

You place your palms on his broad chest, wanting to feel more of him but your fingers meet a scratchy material on his chest. You part from his neck, looking for the strange obstruction, and all the despair you felt just a few hours ago comes rushing back when you see the banged wound on his right chest.

You pull away from him to get a better look, ignoring the displeased grumble from the orc. Worry only worsens when you see the white gauze turning a yellowish orange. You must have slept for awhile if the bandage already needs changing. You sit up, with some difficulty, as your...friend? is very reluctant to let go.

You reach for the medical supplies left on the low lying living room table and waste no time gently peeling the dirty bandage off. As gentle as you can be, at least. The orc under you doesn't seem to mind any pain, the only time he expresses displeasure is when you get up to fetch some water and a cloth to clean his wound again.

Ignoring his melodramatic complaining, you get up and grab the blood soaked cloth off the floor as well as his tunic, which now has dark crusted blood embedded into the fabric. In the kitchen, you rinse both the cloth and tunic in your sink, it definitely doesn't clean all the blood off but it's better than nothing.

On your way back to the couch you see him fidgeting with the stitches and you lightly smack him upside the head, mumbling "Don't touch." He lets out a half grumble half laugh and lets you bring the cold wash cloth to his wound. You gently clean the raw stitched up skin, wiping away any excess blood and plasma that's seeped out. The red of the blood clashes so grimly with his green skin.

While you work, you're keenly aware that the orc is staring at you, very shamelessly. As you reapply the antibiotic ointment and rebandage the wound you can't help your eyes flicker up to meet his. His absolute smitten expression doesn't make you feel good, like it might in any other scenario, it only makes the prickling anxiety in your stomach bubble up further.

When you're done with the rebandaging, you assess your work and only feel shame, you know this only happened because of you. He should at least be upset but he's clearly not and that only makes you more worried.

Crossing the boarder is a crime punishable by death, You put his life in danger multiple times just because you were lonely. You should never have gone back to his cottage, he’d be much better off if he’d never saved your life in the first place.

Your orc looks at you with a questioning expression, worry pinching his eyebrows. You de-tangle from his hold again but this time he doesn't argue, only sits up with concern. You crouch by the hearth and poke at the smouldering fire, adding a log and nudging the flames slowly back to life. You sit on the floor in between the table and couch, grab your translation book and pencil from under the table and think for a moment on how exactly you should word your concerns.

After a few minutes you've scrawled a few choice words in orcish and slide it closer to him so he can see it. It reads,

"Leave. Not safe."

He reads it and pauses for a painful moment, before he looks you in the eyes and shakes his head.

You look at him in disbelief, does he mean he won't leave or that he thinks it actually is safe? Both?

Confused you point towards the Orcish words fro “Not safe” again, trying to get the point across. He shrugs and rests his head on his hand, propped up on his elbow on your couch like nothing in the world bothers him. This makes you far more upset than you’ve been in a while, maybe ever. Why would he have such a frivolous attitude towards his own wellbeing? He saved you, why wont he let you save him.

The anger must show on your face because the nonchalant expression he wore quickly turned to something more concerned. He lifts himself from the couch to shuffle closer to you. He tries to reach for your hand but you pull away, you just don’t want to touch him right now. You can barely look at him without thinking of how he looked bleeding out in the snow, arrow stuck in his chest, he looked absolutely terrified then, why is he acting this way now?

You hear him flipping through pages and the scratch of graphite on paper. He slides over his own torn piece of paper. It reads,

"Not scared"

In poorly written Human Common. You can't help but scoff, who does this orc think he is? He just got shot and could have bled to death, all from just one knight, how could he possibly say he isn't scared of more showing up? After a minute of stewing in your anger and thinking about how to possibly respond to that, you start scrawling up a response. After a few minutes you slide over your own piece of paper that reads,

"Should be. More coming."

He stares at it for a second, looks back at you and then slides over his "Not scared" note again, emphasising his point. You honestly don't know whether you should try writing out an entire paragraph trying to explain this situation to him or if you should just write the word "fool" to get your point across. You decide on just looking at him disapprovingly, pointedly moving your gaze to his freshly bandaged chest and then looking away from him, shaking your head lightly.

It's a long, tense moment before you hear graphite scratching on paper again. You look over to where he hunches over the tiny table, catching him writing the words,

"Can't leave-"

and it only feeds your anger, how can you get him to realise the trouble he's in? Was he always this stubborn? Maybe if you just kicked him out in the snow he'd eventually just walk home, away from you, away from danger. Maybe if you made him leave... Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of paper sliding on the wooden surface of the table, you give an exasperated sigh and look down at the paper.

"Can't leave you alone."

The anger that was just bubbling up, cools into barely a simmer. The realisation splashes you like a bucket of cold water to the face. He's completely right. You threatened a knight with an arrow to the skull and then you just let him go. He knows where you live, he knows no one will even notice if a solitary woman living deep in the woods just disappeared. Not to mention, if they find out you spared an orc (much less fell in love with said orc) instead of killing him for the crime of crossing the border, they'll certainly kill you too, if not worse.

Were you really so troubled with making sure he was safe that you barely even realised how deep in trouble you are? You cover your fatigued eyes with the palms of your hands, heaving a tired sigh. It feels like a ten ton stone has been dropped on your shoulders. What the hell are you going to do now? Your quiet life is completely compromised. Your hands hide the few tears that squeeze out from your eyes but you fail to hide the sniff that leaves you.

You hear your orc shuffle closer promptly after hearing your sob, you let him gently usher you into his arms. You sit in his lap, cradled by his massive frame as he rubs his huge hand up and down your back.

He says something in orcish. It’s a single word said with gentle determination. You meet his eyes, the lack of understanding obvious. He grabs his book and flips through it, fumbling with the book in one hand while the other's still on your back. You hold the well worn book for him as he points towards the word,

"Together"

You stare at it, not really surprised that's what he said. It was rather foolish of you to think he'd just leave you to deal with this situation alone. You two are now deeper intertwined than before, and that was already a lot for you. You'll figure this out together, that’s then only way forward.

You rack your brain for a solution, a resolution, anything but you come up blank. Your orc sighs down at you and runs his thumb across your forehead, smoothing out the tense muscles between your furrowed eyebrows. He leans over the table and grabs the piece of paper that says "Leave. Not safe." He folds the paper so that only "Leave." is visible and he places that paper above the other slip of paper that says "Together".

He then takes a new sheet and then spends some time writing down the words,

"Until safe."

You stare at the makeshift sentence before looking up at him, making sure you didn't misinterpret, his hopeful eyes are all the confirmation needed. He wants you to stay with him until your home is safe again. Your home might never be safe to return to. Does he know that? Does he actually know what he's offering?

He can obviously see the turmoil on your face, he knows you won't just accept his offer so easily. He holds your cheek again, making sure you can't look away and says to you, in orcish, what you're pretty sure means,

"Please, I love you"

You let out something between a sob and a laugh, clutching his hand on your cheek and kissing his wrist as he wipes your stray tear away. He looks at you with such love it pulls more laughter from your lungs, his eyes crinkle with how wide he smiles. You lean up and pull him into a deep kiss, much deeper than the first. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and his hands hold your waist, keeping you close to him, as if that's really needed. One passionate kiss turns into another and another until you're making out, only separating when you laugh too much to actually kiss.

You kiss along his cheek, down his neck and his naked shoulder. He runs his massive hands up and down your waist, returning your affections by kissing down your neck, nuzzling you with the blunt ends of his pretty tusks. The feeling of his tusks on your throat makes you let out a pleasured sound you’re not sure you've ever made before, and it shocks you so much you cover your mouth with your own hand. Your orc looks at you with the same shock in his eyes, mirroring the deep desire simmering just below the surface.

All you can do is stare into his eyes as he stares into yours, breaths heavy, bodies close. This is it. This is all you want.

And then your heart drops, the air is punched out of your lungs and ice swallows your entire body. You see the exact same dread reflected in his eyes and you know he hears it too.

The distant neigh of horses and the clopping of hooves on hard icy ground, getting closer and closer.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

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[proselles]

Getting older is realizing bill cipher was sexier as a triangle anyway.

[heph]

I dont know if im allowed to just request in your inbox..

But can you feed us with some clingy wilson with house 😔😔

I wanna see the baby boys cuddle but we need clingy wilson 😙

Completely "platonic" snuggling

[markisnotaloser]

So join the fight!

[pt: So join the fight! /end pt]

(Version without Lex & the inspo art under the cut!)

ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY JEFF BLIM!!

[diamondchili]

You’re right. I am a monster.

(id in alt text!)

[yaekiss]

uh. finally got around to reading mydei's character story instead of just quest lore and

kraken au? monsterfucking potential if he stayed in the sea instead of slaying his father? many thoughts............

i hear monsterfucking potential and my ears perk right up... (holy shit rambling and ideating under the cut. I didn't realise I typed so much.)

sea monster mydei who keeps seeing fisher or seafarer reader throughout those 9 years, always in a different form each time,,,, reader doesn't know of the fondness / obsession (whichever floats your boat. harharhar.) growing and churning beneath the waves

something something if you're in a smaller solo boat, he likes to hang back just a bit behind you, just to make sure nothing happens to you. maybe if he's brave enough, he'll drop some sort of treasure or trinket into your boat (pearls or rare sea life) (OOOH or whichever specimen you're looking for if you're a marine researcher. do they even have marine researchers where he's from? idk)

I do have a mental imagery of mydei hauling himself halfway up your lil vessel, rocking the ship slightly as he gets his forearms to rest on the wooden edge. in a nicer more normal scenario, this would be after he has made himself known to you. he loves hearing you talk, you're like some sort of siren (I know sirens were originally bird ladies but in this case just take it as merpeople who can entrance people with their voice.) despite him being the sea monster. maybe he loves pomegranate juice after you bring some for him to try one day. hmmm

in a more yan fic, this would be. hmm. if you spend the night out at sea and you've been lulled to sleep by the waves. enraptured as he watches you rest peacefully on the surface of the very ocean that has caused him so much torment blahblahblah. you wake up to (very) fresh fish on the floor of your ship.

[pleaseinsertwittyurl]

There are always 2 sides.

The discourse around Louis and Lestat being a victim and abuser and nothing more drives me insane.

Something i don't think enough people remember is that the very same reason the fight began in 1×05 (lestat grabbing claudia by the throat when she tries to "take louis away") we see Louis himself do to her in 1×07 when she tries to get Louis to burn Lestat.

They BOTH would harm her rather than live in a world without the other. They are both guilty of abusing her and each other.

There is an implication that a good deal of time passed between Louis and Lestat meeting and the church. Louis expresses that he shares himself with Lestat in a way he only had with Paul. I would assume that goes both ways, to a degree. We know Louis knows at least enough about Nicki to discourage Claudia poking that wound. He also clearly knows that the threat of leaving is his most powerful weapon against Lestat.

Mental abuse is abuse. And Louis abused Lestat mentally for years. Shaming him, ridiculing him, shutting him out, manipulating him into making Claudia (a traumatic moment for him, whether Louis understands the depths of it or not) by promising to give him what he's being denying him, promising to never put him through what he fears the most.

Louis admits to purposely making Lestat suffer. He admits he was warned that Claudia would suffer and he wanted her anyway because he needed to feel redeemed. He is not innocent. He is not a trapped, weak victim. He made choices to hurt both Lestat and Claudia time and time again.

Does this justify Lestat's actions in 1×05? Obviously not. But we now know Louis was not willing to stop the fight. He taunted Lestat the same way he taunted the Alderman. He was unleashing years of frustrations just as Lestat was. His priority was not to protect Claudia, it was to hurt Lestat, consequences be damned.

I hate the drop scene as much as the next person and Lestat has admitted he will never earn forgiveness for what he did. But if you view Louis as some squeaky clean victim who was manipulated, trapped, and abused by Lestat you are missing so much of what this show is conveying.

We will always tend to paint ourselves as the hero of our own story. It is hard to accept your faults or that you hurt people you love. It is much easier to shift that blame on to someone else, to frame them as the villian. But life is not usually that black and white. Claudia had harsh words for them both in her diary, even before they got to Europe, for a reason. They both made hurtful mistakes with her, both treated her like a pawn in their relationship instead of a person, both harmed her, took away her choice, never prioritized her.

That is the great tragedy. That she never had a choice and was not allowed to be her own person. And in the end, they both are responsible for her misery and her death. That's what makes the reunion scene so important. They have been grieving her and carrying that guilt alone, all the while longing for the comfort of the other for 70+ years. Louis has found clarity in his memories, he has accepted his role in their suffering, he has seen Lestat's perspective more fully. Lestat is broken, totally consumed with that guilt and grief. Both know that although they cannot change what they've done, they can forgive the other, even if they can't forgive themselves. They can love each other despite everything they've done to one another because they cannot stop loving each other. But now they can try to rebuild that love from the rubble.