#first person perspective

[rrawrrxd]

the hex guys line-up

#my art tag #the hex #s@do #swk #super weasel kid #chef bryce #chandrelle stormblaze #lazarus bleeze #rust mcclain #fpp #first person perspective #fpp the hex #rootbeer reggie #jeremiah the hex #rebecha #irving the hex

[welcome-home-art-dump]

Neighborhood interactions~

From my Wattpad book~

Hint; you’re taller than poppy.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home fanart #wally darling #headcanon #welcome home fandom #art dump #first person pov #first person perspective #pov #head pats #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #frank welcome home #welcome home howdy #sally starlet #eddie dear #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #welcome home x y/n

[draculasfavoritewife]

Meleth Nín (My Love)

Summary: The very future of Middle Earth may hang in the balance, but a quiet night allows thoughts to stray toward questions of a more personal nature.

Pairing: Legolas Thranduilion x elf!Reader/OC

Warnings: Pining, female language used for reader.

I wrote this a couple summers ago during my brief but intense LOTR phase. "Enelya" is the Elvish name I got from a name generator as a kid so I used it here 😁. Apologies for the length, I got massively carried away. This IS supposed to be x reader, I just wrote it before I was comfortable writing in 2nd person.

(Translations of Elvish phrases at the end)

It is my turn for first watch tonight, an assignment that I do not mind even during normal times, and that I am almost bittersweetly grateful for on this night. I have much on my mind that needs settling, and somehow, I do not think that listening to the grating snores of the sons of Gloin and Denethor would give me more peace than the crisp night air. 

The surrounding woods are still, nothing moving about in the underbrush that shouldn’t be, and I allow my guard a chance at rest, turning my attention to the stars instead of the trees. Crouched where I am on a wide branch, I have a perfect window through to the deep ebony expanse of the sky, and a strange blend of homesickness and excitement blazes briefly through my chest. The stars are strange here, arranged differently than they are back in the Greenwood, yet a few familiar individuals still flicker amongst foreign constellations. 

It reminds me of the first time Legolas coaxed me into climbing his favorite tree back home so I could see the stars. I will never forget the wonder I felt as he pulled me through the last layer of obscuring leaves and the sky unfolded before me, rolling on forever. I’d seen the stars many times in Imladris, but they were different there, blessed with a sense of safety and serenity that everything beneath the watchful eyes of Elrond felt. 

With Thranduilion, high in the crown of the wood, balanced on the very threshold of the sky, with nothing anchoring me except his steady hand holding mine, it suddenly seemed I could reach out and touch the Valar themselves. I remember laughing, simply because no other reaction could express what I felt. Thranduilion laughed beside me; it was late, we were the only two still out after a hunt, and I still am not entirely sure why he took me up there. 

Whatever the reason, that instance changed many things for me. It sparked in me something older and fiercer than I knew, some desire for more than what I had there in the Greenwood, much as I loved it. Some yearning which prompted me to accompany my Prince along on this solemn venture, wherever it leads. 

I’ve tried not to admit it, but that night started changing the way I saw him as well. 

Someone approaches, passage no more than a whisper, only slightly less silent than one of my own people, and there is only one it could be. No guard is needed around one I’ve known since we were both children. 

“Estel.” 

“Mae govannen, Enelya.” He leans against my branch, supported on crossed arms. The others call him Strider, or Aragorn, but to me he will always be my Estel, the companion I spent a couple of decades with after my childhood, before my mother’s people sent for me to return to the Greenwood. Elrond looked after the both of us when our mothers died, and besides my Prince and hunting partner, Estel knows me better than any being in all of Arda. 

Silence hangs between us, draped across the strange stars, until he brushes it aside like a curtain of cobwebs. “What troubles you, Gwathel nín?” 

“Who said I was troubled, Gwador nín?” 

“Your face does, for one,” he replies, voice wry. 

“Manen?” 

“Well, you won’t look at me, Mellon nín. That’s usually a telling sign I’m right and you don’t want to admit it.” He gives no sign of letting up with his persistence. 

I sigh and glance down, taking in the familiar grizzled face and sharp gray eyes. “Mar bedithach, Estel?” 

“I’ll leave when you unburden yourself. I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t already heard from anyone else on this journey. If you miss the Greenwood, or are having a difficult time restraining yourself from stabbing several members of this fine Fellowship, I assure you, you are not weak, nor are you alone.” White teeth flash in a crooked grin, and I can’t help returning it. 

“Those are both excellent guesses, and I admit to you that such thoughts have passed through my mind on multiple occasions. However,” I cast my gaze back up to the heavens, “I highly doubt that anyone else in this…most distinguished company is suffering from the same unrest of the soul that I am.” 

Oh Valar, don’t let my face be heating up…. 

Estel turns so his back rests against my branch, leaving his hands free to light his pipe. He does so and takes a few long draws without responding to my declaration. 

I wrinkle my nose. “You’re inviting an early death with such bad practices, Gwador nín.” 

“So Legolas has informed me several times over, but without such sisterly concern for my health.” He’s laughing at me on the inside, I can tell. “Speaking of, am I terribly far from the mark in assuming your fair Prince is the source of your ‘unrest of the soul’, Mellon nín?” 

He knows me too well. Even decades apart have done nothing to weaken the bond we shared as children, nor have I mastered any technique of hiding my thoughts that can escape his piercing gaze, it seems. 

“You don’t have to answer,” Estel murmurs. “Your silence speaks more clearly than anything you could say.” 

“I didn’t think I would fall in love with him,” I offer. 

A grunt is his disbelieving answer. “You spend every free minute together, and even the time that is required for patrolling, hunting, and so on and so forth. To be bluntly honest, I’m surprised it took you six decades. I owe my brothers some money, it would seem, if they still recall the wager we made upon your departure from Elrond’s house. Perhaps I won’t remind them.” 

I can’t decide whether to be astonished or angry. “You and the twins made a wager on me?” 

“Not on you,” Estel is quick to clarify. “On how long it would take you to develop an attraction towards Thranduilion.” 

“So you all just assumed I would, hmm?” 

“And rightly.” He sounds so insolent, as if all of a sudden he is once again the younger brother, and not the protective elder he made himself out to be as he reached maturity. “It was only a matter of time, Gwathel nín. You held out longer than I bet, of course, but Thranduilion is easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. My correspondence with you has been irregular, I will be the first to admit, but from the time I learned of your partnership on both the battlefield and hunting grounds, I thought you would find him a kindred spirit, and someone to admire.” 

I shake my head as if to protest, but what is there to protest? Estel sees truth. Far from being pampered royalty, Legolas it was who took it upon himself to teach me the ways of his father’s kingdom. He reawakened the Silvan part of my heritage that had long since been denied its native wildness in Imladris, and instilled in me that ferocious love for the Greenwood that keeps the Silvan people rooted there even now, as we have to scrape our very livelihoods out of the Dark Lord’s overhanging shadow. We get along as well as if we have walked side by side for an Age, not the paltry decades I have been in the employ of King Thranduil’s guard. The Prince chooses me for the majority of his hunts and orc raids, and we have reached an understanding so fine that words need not be exchanged for us to always know where the other is in the thick of combat. 

He is nearly as much a part of my identity as the Silvan and Noldor blood that runs mingled through my veins. 

Is it any wonder, then, that I want more? 

“Enelya.” Estel’s voice is soft as he blows smoke into the breeze. “You can talk to me, you know. I’ll die before I betray your trust.” 

“I know.” I sink to a sitting position and let one leg dangle into space, resting an arm across my other knee. “I’m not entirely sure what else to say, aside from what I’ve already said. I love him, Estel.” 

He nods thoughtfully and taps the end of his pipe against his teeth. “Your eyes betray you when we travel. Ever they seek him out, even as you watch the landscape for danger.” 

Estel almost seems about to say something else, but even minutes of waiting do not draw it out of him, so I go back to the protest I would have made. 

“He does not distract me. I am as deadly as ever.” 

“I did not accuse you of distraction. I only observed that you watch him.” His eyes flit upwards, to my face, before darting away into the darkness again. “As he does you.” 

I stare down into my sworn brother’s shadowed countenance, unsure of whether my ears are playing tricks on me. Estel wouldn’t lie about such things. Surely I heard wrong. 

“He does what?” 

A burst of smoke from between his lips could mean either amusement or irritation. With Estel, the two often travel hand in hand. “Thranduilion. His eyes follow where you go when we are on the move. Always his attention is on you, even as he stands watch over us. You mean a great deal to him, Mellon nín.” 

Trying to tamp down the surge of emotion rising inside me, I shrug, letting the wind run its cool, long fingers through my hair. “I should hope I do. We’ve been through much together, and saved each other’s lives many times.” 

Now I know he’s annoyed with me. “I meant more than that. I don’t have much with which to wager at the moment, but if I did, I might wager he feels similarly about you as you do him.” 

I stare down at Estel, but he’s looking away again. “Well. Even if that were the case….” I trail off, pulling my knees back up to my chest. “There are too many problems standing in our way.” 

“Such as…?” 

“By the Valar, you’ve become so nosy in your old age, Little Brother.” Despite my ribbing, I can tell by the set of his jaw that this ridiculous matter has become of utmost importance to him for some reason, and I know Estel too well to believe he would give up before we have talked this through. I sigh, resigning myself to discussing my nonexistent romance with him. 

“For one, he’s thousands of years older than I, Estel. I’m barely over a century old.” 

“Oh no,” he mutters dryly. “How scandalous, an age difference.” 

Realizing that he and Arwen are also thousands of years apart, I drop my forehead to my knees. “Well, maybe that wasn’t the best reason.” 

“No, it wasn’t.” Another long draw of his pipe sends a misty cloud drifting about his face. 

“His father would never approve of his son taking up with a Silvan and not a Sindar.” This is painfully true. Legolas told me of his father’s harsh objections to his interest in Tauriel quite some time ago. 

“Are you in love with Thranduil?” Estel asks in a monotone. 

I glare at him. “No! Mîbo orch, Estel.” 

He ignores my insult. “Then worry less about what Thranduil thinks and more about what Legolas thinks. He’s as loyal as one could ever be to those he chooses, and more than stubborn enough to stand up to his father.” 

There is wisdom in his words. However, the biggest reason that has kept me silent on this subject for so long still remains. 

“You know Elves only love once,” he murmurs, tone fading to gentle. “And they seldom err in their choice of soulmate.” 

“I know.” The words slip from my tongue, condensing in the cool air. “And he once thought he loved another.” 

Estel says nothing to this revelation, merely sending smoke rings floating up into the night sky. I can’t tell if he’s pondering what I’ve said, or if he truly has no rebuttal for it. 

“You never saw the way he looked at her, Estel. He talked about her many times when it was just he and I on a hunt. No one else was ever allowed to see how deeply he was hurt when she fell for the Dwarf. I can’t be sure, but I expect he’s never been the same since.” It feels freeing, to finally relate all of this to my sworn brother. I keep many secrets, probably the reason Legolas felt he could confide his heartbreak in me. Yet long has that particular burden hung heavy on my own heart, and I am relieved to bare it to the man beside me. 

His hand rests comfortingly on my back, once again the protector he thought I needed when we were young. “None of us are ever the same as we once were, Mellon nín. Much as you resemble the elleth I once knew, even you have been changed by your time in the Greenwood. Your people may not change as swiftly nor as dramatically as mine, and yet not even the eternal can live so long in Arda without being shaped. Six decades certainly influence a lot of things.” 

I nod, turning his argument over in my mind. “You say he watches for me?” 

The small smile that crosses Estel’s weather-worn face is this time not sarcastic nor teasing. “Indeed he does. Whenever the two of you are parted for a time, even if it is just that I sent you off to scout ahead, he is as tightly drawn as his own bowstring until you return. Who knows, perhaps even he hasn’t entirely recognized it yet. But something will come of it, Enelya. Of this I am sure.” 

“And if Elladan and Elrohir were along with us, am I to assume you would all place a wager on how soon?” 

He nudges me with his elbow. “There’s that sense of humor I’ve been missing. Now, I suppose I had better leave you, because as unobtrusive as he thinks he is being, someone else is waiting for you. I’ll take next watch. Losto mae, Gwathel nín.” 

“Nostad lín sui orch, Estel,” I snicker, referring both to the stench of his pipe and what I’ve been telling him since childhood. “And le hannon.” 

He waves as he returns to the light of the fire. “Carnen an gwend, Enelya.” 

I stare back at the stars above me, knowing that if who Estel implied is really waiting for me, he will approach at his own time and no amount of cajoling will bend him my way sooner. 

So I wait as well. 

No more than a sigh of the tree itself heralds his arrival beside me on the branch. 

“Do you wish to be alone with your thoughts, Mellon nín?” 

Gazing over my shoulder, I am met by Thranduilion’s piercing blue eyes as he leans against the trunk of my perch. 

“If so, I will gladly leave you to them.” There is the slightest wistful note beneath his tone; for all his politeness, he wishes to speak to me. 

Did he overhear my conversation with Estel? 

Heart starting to flutter like a sparrow’s wings, I shake my head. “Avo ‘osto, Hîr nín. Baren bar lin, as they say.” 

“What have I done to deserve such formal address, Mellon?” he asks lightly. Though he laughs, warm and cheerful, an undercurrent of hurt runs deep through the words. 

Does it hurt him, truly, to call him so? “Goheno nin, Thranduilion,” I murmur, unable to look away from that intense gaze. “My mind was not in the present moment, I fear.” 

“Ú-moe edaved, Enelya.” His reply is warm, and I cannot miss the affection that wreathes around my name as it falls from his lips. “I am only glad to learn I have not offended you.” 

“Rest assured, I would have let you know in no uncertain terms if you had,” I inform him saucily. 

His laughter at my cheek is bright now, all trace of concern gone. “This is true.” Nodding towards my view of the dark sky, he leans closer, bending so he can see what I am seeing. “Looking for old friends among the new?” 

“Indeed.” I stretch out my spine, careful not to knock him away from my shoulder. “I miss some of our constellations that you pointed out to me in the Greenwood.” 

Legolas stands upright again. “Aphado nin.” He reaches upward for a branch and swings to a higher level. 

I rise to my feet and stare up at him between the leaves. “Am man theled?” 

“To see the whole sky, of course. You’ll never gaze upon the greater picture if you do not climb higher, Mellon nín.” He holds out a hand. 

I take it, allowing him to pull me up to his level before continuing the climb. “You said those very words when you made me climb that tree the first time back home.” 

“I didn’t make you.” I can nearly hear the smirk in his voice. “You were given a choice.” 

It is my turn to laugh now. “Not when you say such poetic and inspiring things, Legolas. Although I was terrified of climbing to the crown of that tree, your way of putting it made me feel I should never be complete until I had seen the whole sky. I consider myself bewitched.” 

He shoves my shoulder as he easily passes me up. “No one is whole unless they have seen the entire sky. Estelio nin. It is truth.” 

“I do trust you. That’s why I climbed the tree with you that night, even though I was still frightened of falling. I knew you would catch me.” 

We remain in silence then until we break through the leaves, pushing through as if to the surface from underwater. I cannot count the amount of times I’ve done something similar with Thranduilion, those late nights after a hunt, but it still takes my breath away, to gaze upon the veil of stars and clouds that rolls ever on to the very edges of Arda. The sight makes the songs of my people flow through my veins, never failing to give me the gift of peace. 

I should thank him for introducing me to the sky more often. 

“I hope I never grow tired of this.” It takes me a moment to realize I’ve breathed the words aloud. 

Legolas is gazing out in the opposite direction, handsome face serene. “You will not.” 

I want to impertinently ask him how he would know, but I swallow the teasing words. He has walked these lands for nearly three millennia, and still finds such joy in it that he felt he needed to introduce me to that joy. He would know. 

“Enelya.” 

“Yes, Mellon nín?” I turn to face him. 

He drops down to sit on a branch that is old enough to serve as a seat. “Will you help me?” 

I know what he is asking for. He’s perfectly capable of doing it himself, but it has been a ritual of ours for years, and I enjoy it as much as he does. “Of course.” I make my way to his side and start to unwind his braids. 

“I’ll do the same for you,” he promises, relaxing into my touch. 

I weave my fingers through his silky hair as I release it to the mercies of the breeze, untangling any knots, minuscule as they are, and drawing out fronds of moss and bits of leaf that have found their way into his tresses. I can’t remember when we first started caring for each other’s hair at the end of the day, but it is always one of my favorite times spent with him. The few moments we have no responsibilities and can just talk about nothing, as friends are wont to. 

“What do you think the others would say, if they knew the truth?” I ask teasingly, moving to the tiny braids over his ear. 

His eyes flash to give me a sideways glance. “What do you mean?” 

I smirk. “Do you not hear them speak of you, in wondering whispers? They all ask how Thranduilion manages to stay so neat, how his hair, long and beautiful as it is, remains free of forest debris and untroubled by tangles. They have begun to speculate that it is some gift from Elbereth, that he looks fresh as the day we set off while the rest of them grow ever more unkempt. What would they say, if they knew it is simply because I re-braid your hair every night?” 

Wicked mischief flashes across his countenance for a brief instant. “They would all come running to you for your excellent services, I imagine. Do you want me to tell them, and so dispel the legends? I would prefer to keep your company in such matters to myself, but perhaps I shouldn’t be so selfish. After all,” he leans closer to whisper, “it might be worth it, to see you running your fingers through Aragorn’s oily mane.” 

I can’t stop the choking noise that comes from my throat. “I love that man, but there are some things I will never do for him, Legolas.” 

His quiet laughter floats into the night. “Nor should you have to.” 

Something pricks my fingertip and I yank my hand away from his hair. “Ai! Is this a burr, Thranduilion? Where on Arda did you find that?” 

He shrugs easily. “It could have been anywhere. Yet I assume it came from one of my solitary scouts. Had the halflings followed where I tread, surely they would have all come away full of them.” 

I try not to laugh at the thought of our four smallest companions drowning in burrs. “It is fortunate you only picked up one.” 

Once my Prince’s hair has been seen to, he turns so I can sit before him and begins the same process on mine. Much as I love the feeling of the wind running its fingers through my hair, it cannot compete with the gentle and nimble hands of Legolas. My eyes close as those hands begin their familiar path, and for some time all that I know is the warmth of his body next to mine and the soft melody of the well-loved song he hums next to my ear. 

Is it any wonder, that I have come to care for him as I do? 

“Mellon nín?” he murmurs suddenly. 

“Yes?” 

“What made you decide to accompany me on this quest? You know you could have returned to the Greenwood.” 

“That I do.” I sigh and let my eyes flutter open again. How much do I say? “But if this quest fails, it will not matter if I had returned to the Greenwood, for even Thranduil Elvenking cannot keep the shadows at bay forever if the Dark Lord triumphs.” 

He is silent for some time, and I let him remain so. I learned long ago that Legolas will not share what is on his mind except at a time of his own choosing. 

“I suppose you are right,” he finally concedes. His fingertips brush my ear, and I shiver at the contact. “It was no doubt my own desire to know you would be safer at home that clouded such truth from my mind.” His voice grows somber. “You do know, Enelya, that we may never see the Greenwood again.” 

“Of course, Mellon nín. Yet through all my time in my mother’s land I have been at your side, and the Valar themselves could not keep me from staying beside you. Even unto the Halls of Mandos, I would rather accompany you than be apart from you.” My breath catches on the last word. Have I said too much? 

His hands pause in their combing to rest upon my shoulders. “I am blessed, then, to have found such a companion as you.” 

“Le hannon, Legolas.” 

When next he speaks, there is a layer of hesitation resting over his tone that I rarely hear from him. “Do you know, I was quite angry when you first insisted on traveling with me.” 

“Oh, I remember. How could I not?” I sniff. “You didn’t speak to me the entire first day of our journey.” 

“I am not proud of my conduct,” he admits penitently. “However, I do realize, since that time has passed, that some good came of it.” 

I feel his long fingers trace my jawline, soft as a breath, turning my face slightly and prompting me to shift so I can meet his gaze. 

His eyes are deep and thoughtful, turned mithril silver by the moon as it breaks from behind a cloud. 

“Do you know, Enelya, how that one day without your company felt to me? Even the torture of seeing you walk at the perimeter of our Fellowship, yet kept from approaching you — by my own stubbornness — made my heart feel sundered from my chest. I realized that day that I could not have endured it if you had indeed returned home as I suggested. One day without your laugh, without your smile on me, was enough for a lifetime.” Legolas’s tone is raw with honesty, and a great many things seem to be making sense to me now. 

It would seem Estel may have been correct, after all, though I won’t tell him so. 

I remember how difficult that first day of the trek was, knowing all too well that Legolas was displeased with my choice. I have seen him angry, at his father, usually, and I knew all the signs too well. I can recall then how delighted and relieved I was when I awoke the following morning to the smell of my favorite fish baking over the fire; Legolas and I have had our fair share of tiffs over the long years, and that is his tried-and-true method of asking my forgiveness when he is at fault. 

We ate our morning meal sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, no one else the wiser of our wordless play of apologies and affirmations. 

Well, Estel probably was. But he doesn’t count. 

“What do you wish to say to me, Mellon nín?” I murmur, lifting my own fingers to brush against his cheek. 

He leans into my touch. “I have thought about you much during these uncertain days, even when we are not given much opportunity to talk. About how sorely I would have missed your presence, and grieved at not being able to feel you at my back whenever we face a threat. About how much I have missed times like this, when there is no one but you and I beneath the stars, sitting in the lap of the heavens.” 

“And what would you have done, without me to braid your hair? Become as scruffy as dear Estel?” I tease. 

He curls his lip in mock disgust. “Gerich faer vara, suggesting such a thing to me! I should certainly think not. I admire your Estel, Mellon nín, but I don’t believe the man has bathed once since we set out from Imladris. Yet he has had plenty of chances!” 

I laugh, leaning back against his chest and settling into my new position, comfortable from countless times of sitting like this. “Estel and his questionable hygiene aside, what were you saying?” 

His hands trail down my arms to my hands, where he weaves our fingers together. His hands are finer, more elegant than a mortal man’s, yet they are still wider than mine, surrounding my smaller ones with gentle fondness. This, too, is a much-practiced gesture between us, though there is a different flavor to it tonight. It feels more intimate, as if it means more than our mutual trust and respect this time. 

He smiles; I can hear it in his singsong words, close to my ear. “What I am trying to say, Enelya, is le annon veleth nín.” 

He gives his love to me? 

“Gerich veleth nín,” I answer simply. “It already belonged to you.” 

His lips brush my hair. “I used to wonder, when I was a much younger ellon, why I never felt the need to find a life partner when I came of age. Indeed, Ada certainly bothered me about it for several centuries, until other more pressing issues caught his attention.” 

I’ve never heard Legolas refer to Thranduil as Ada, and certainly not with the echo of a sigh beneath the endearment. It makes my heart ache strangely, to wonder what long-forgotten love once flowed freely between adar and iôn before they let their rift widen so far. 

But this moment is not to be sullied by mourning what has been lost. 

“Do you believe one can wait thousands of years to find their soulmate?” he asks. 

“I do. I know most can’t fathom such a wait, but for our people, it does not matter.” 

“Truly. I think I never pursued anyone with much seriousness because my heart knew it was waiting for yours.” Legolas turns me slightly, so our eyes can meet again. “I would make up for my blindness, Meleth nín, if you wish it.” 

I rest my forehead against his. “I wish it so, Meleth nín.” 

Then his lips are pressing into mine, and this kiss that I have awaited many years is a summer thunderstorm, warm and wild, washing away everything that came before and paving the way for love to bloom. 

Whatever our perilous path holds for us, I suddenly have all certainty that we can weather it. 

Together. 

Mae govannen = Well met

Gwathel/Gwador nín = Sworn sister/brother

Manen = How?

Mellon nín = My friend

Mar bedithach = When are you leaving?

Mîbo orch = Go kiss an orc

Losto mae = Sleep well

Nostad lín sui orch = You smell like an orc

Le hannon = Thank you

Carnen an gwend = For friendship

Avo ‘osto = Don't worry

Hîr nín = My Lord

Baren bar lin = My home is yours

Goheno nin = Forgive me

Ú-moe edaved = No need to forgive

Aphado nin = Follow me

Am man theled = Why?

Estelio nin = Trust me

Gerich faer vara = You have a fiery spirit

Le annon veleth nín = I give my love to you

Gerich veleth nín = You have my love

#legolas greenleaf #x reader #female reader #romance #mutual pining #first person perspective #legolas x reader #lotr x reader #lord of the rings #sweet #another one from a couple years ago ✌🏻 #aragorn #good LORD this is fluffy I can't believe there's so little angst lol

[muchelburstenstein]

Adventures of You: Concert

(Content Warning: Burst)

Everything seemed so normal.

The band was playing, their music a pounding, sexy beat as the lead singer’s buttery voice melted in your ears. You had a bad feeling about going to this, your friends had declined to come with, saying there were reports of weird people in the area, attacking passers by and pinning them to walls or the ground while apologizing until they were restrained. Bizarre stuff. But so far, the concert had been fantastic, everyone too busy listening to the sultry voices of those dreamy boys to spazz out or start a riot.

Then, you hear screams from close by, terror and pain sending shivers down your spine. You run to investigate, to see if perhaps you can do something to help. A woman is holding another girl down, apologizing over and over, saying she can't hold them back. At first, you're confused, as security heads toward the struggling pair. Then you notice her belly growing quickly, the skin bulging and writhing as her body trembles and convulses. She clearly is in indescribably horrific pain.

You've heard of this, papers reporting on the epidemics. But they're supposed to only happen far away from here, third world countries and deep in jungles. And even there, an outbreak could decimate a population if it didn’t take proper precautions. Here, now, in a crowd this big, mostly of women... You turn to run, but the screams become a gurgle, and then the disgusting, nightmarish sound of flesh ripping comes from behind you.

It’s happening.

Not even turning, you desperately try to flee, only for something small and moist to hit your leg. Instantly, you feel it crawl up, toward your largely unprotected loins. Panic wrapping around your heart, you scream, trying to slap it away, to get it off before it was too late. It’s not enough, and the red maggot-looking creature quickly dives under your panties easily, made only for this single, simple purpose.

Your feminine lips putting up no resistance, it enters your body, quickly sliding up your sensitive tunnel. There's a sharp ache as it slips into your womb. Tears blurring your vision, you recall what comes next. It's spewing hormones into your womb, saturating your ovaries, forcing every egg within you to mature and release at the same time. Seconds later, it begins hemorrhaging it’s parasitic seed, fertilizing every single one without fail. Each of them nestle into your uterine lining, a thousand thousand little pin pricks of pain as they merge with your body, impregnating you with countless numbers of these small, parasitic worms.

Far too many for your body to safely hold.

The whole process takes only seconds, the gestation of each creature not much more than that. You take deep breaths, struggling not to let the panic overtake you. There's a chance, you've seen it work before in the documentary. It’s painful, difficult, disgusting and humiliating, but it’s your only chance to survive this. You have to start pushing once labor begins, and fast. Your cervix never had time to seal, you feel amniotic fluid leaking from your gender, coating your thighs. As soon as the disgusting parasites are fully formed, they detach to make room for the rest of their brood, giving their host a chance to deliver them before there's too many to hold.

Any second now, you're going to rapidly swell with thousands of writhing, deadly worms. Your only chance is to birth them, as quickly as possible, before they overwhelm the limits of your womb and you erupt with a countless swarm of insectoid impregnators.

Far sooner than you would have liked, a lurching pain courses through your midriff. You can feel your formerly flat belly starting to swell under your hands, the skin hot and firm. You’re pregnant. Even if you survive this, you’re going to be the mother to a horrific swarm of maggots, your body forever scarred and changed by your unwilling impregnation. But that’s secondary. For now, you have to make sure you survive long enough to be traumatized.

The monsters inside press against your palms, eager to emerge from their unwilling mother, not really caring how. You quickly tug down your panties, drop to your knees, open your legs wide, and push with every bit of force you can muster. Screaming, thighs trembling as your toes curl, you arch your back as you bear down as hard as you can. You're rewarded with the slimy. degrading sensation of parasite after parasite pushing through your cervix and oozing down your birth canal. The pain as the slick, sharp-shelled bugs emerge is intense, tearing a scream from your lips as their exoskeletons catch on your delicate folds, leaving cuts and tears as they go gushing from your sensitive womanhood rapidly.

Your nether lips burn, and as you catch your breath screams erupt from around you. You realize you're causing other women to suffer the same fate, your children finding new victims as quickly as they’re born, already sexually mature and instinctually driven to reproduce as quickly as possible. But you can’t afford to care. You can't die, not like this.

Your belly is still growing, they're not all out, not even close. You’re still so very full, growing more by the second as more of your inhuman rape babies attach themselves to your womb and start feeding off your nutriants to grow. Each one that gestates takes a little more energy from you, leeches a little more of the strength you need to give birth to them vaginally. But you can’t rest, can’t afford to think about how you’re already dripping sweat, couldn’t stand even if you wanted to. You push again, tears running down your face, birthing more monstrosities, helpless to stop them from going about their terrible work on all those nearby.

Then you do it again. And again. Bearing down on the growing hard spot inside you, the cruel ache of your unwanted children emerging, leaving vindictive slices along your most sensitive parts as they're born. Every time you stop to take a break, the feeling of your flesh once again swelling makes cold fear stab into your soul. The realization of how exausted you are, your arms quivering and unable to properly catch your breath, is even more chilling.

And still, they sap your life force, stealing away the nutrients you need to save your own life. Remorseless, deadly parasites. Yet, some deep instinct tells you they are still your children, must to your shame. But no time to linger, even as your mind gets fuzzy with how tired and worn-out you are. Only another push, only another stream of maggots dribbling from between your thighs.

After minutes of this desperate, relentless effort, you feel like you're so close. Your belly is almost entirely flat, and even as hundreds of maggots develop inside you, your frenzied efforts seem to be holding the worst at bay. But you're utterly tapped out. You’ve only stopped bearing down to gasp in a rushed breath before putting even more effort into it. You must breathe, you feel as though you're on the verge of passing out. Sobbing, you begin to pulse once again with horrible, violent life.

Crying out as you struggle, more emerge from your slime-coated feminine lips, but this time your parasite infected womb doesn't empty as much. You're simply getting too tired, there's just so many, growing far too quickly. Another woman pushes out her last one, and collapses, knowing she'll survive the day but entirely drained. She’s passed out before she hits the ground.

Your aching womb, meanwhile, bloats out suddenly, causing pressure to mount to intensely painful levels. Once again you bear down, the ravenous things coming out slower than ever. Musky, bloody juices drip from your quivering sex, but it's not enough.

It’s just not enough.

Sobbing, holding your roiling baby bump as you sob out helpless pleas to the monsters invagin your body, you quickly swell. After mere seconds you appear seven months pregnant, the intense sensations from within becoming even stronger as your belly fills with nightmarish, insectile life.

A woman in front of you starts screaming, her belly tenting out in a few different places as she runs out of space, her parasitic young looking only to escape. The thrashing from inside gets increasingly chaotic and rapid, the skin bulging further until there's a gurgling shriek, blood leaking from the victim’s mouth as her internal organs rupture from the strain. Then, the unmistakable sound of flesh tearing apart from within. More dull red insects erupt from the once slim frame.

It's pandemonium all around you, women being forced to birth these things, or fleeing, cradling their pregnant bellies, praying they haven't become the next time-bomb. Knowing that if one of the monsters got inside of them, they would burrow through the mucous plug, devour her child, multiply, and then lay dormant.

They would lay in wait until the poor thing got into a crowded area, full of potental victims. Then they would make their move. Suddenly all the energy they’d been storing for however long would explode to life, taking control of the host’s motor functions as they rapidly grew and forcing the terrified woman to pin a host-to-be, leaving them helpless as the former hapilly pregnant woman bursts open with a torrent of parasitic life. That was most likely what had happened to the woman who started all this.

You would feel bad for her, had she not doomed so many people here in the process of her demise.

You gaze teary-eyed at your own life-filled form. The pressure is mounting, even as you continue struggling to birth your deadly young, echoing through your entire body as it struggles to stay in one piece. You to pant desperately, barely able to breathe as every little movement radiates across your entire fecund mound, your womb  so large that it’s pressing up firmly against your lungs, threatening to crush your internal organs or break bones. Your belly-button pops out, and you know it's almost time.

A teenage girl is looking at you, horrified, her own belly just beginning to swell. Sobbing, she pulls down her pants and panties, squats in front of you, and begins to birth her own offspring in a panic. You can already tell the poor thing isn't strong enough, she's too young. She, like you, is doomed. It's just a matter of time now.

The sharp pains begin. Almost every woman has either been infected, has left, or is dying, oozing blood from the jagged fleshy tatters of what was once their wombs. You start to scream as your flesh is stretched, sharp pains coming from within as your limits are exceeded. You beg for mercy from your children, from whatever gods may or may not be listening.

But your babies do not care. They only want to be born. And if the gods hear you, they show no sign of it.

You just wanted to go to the concert. It’s not fair.

The pressure within is unbearable, and you feel the parasites inside shoving against your uterus, causing your skin to tent out as they seek to over-tax your fragile body. It won’t be much longer now at all.

The movement becomes even more intense as you fan at the hot, straining flesh, the harsh thrusts from within becoming stronger, until the monsters are violently thrashing, the flesh of your fertile orb roiling and bulging, causing you to shriek in agony. You feel ribs crack under the slams of your hard shelled young, your lungs punctured by your ribs. Your shreik of agony turns into a dying gurgle as you taste blood, feeling it leak out of the corner of your mouth as you clutch your belly, desprately trying, and failing, to prevent the inevitable.

With a final thrust, your womb ruptures under the immense strain, the parasites pouring into your body, crushing some of your internal organs as still more of the nightmares continue to grow inside. Finally, with a wet, coppery sob, your horrific pregnant swell splits vertically in a massive, jagged split, spilling the lethal children you've involuntarily gestated onto the street.

The young girl in front of you is staring at a writhing full-term belly now. She reaches out tentatively, seemingly confused. "Ow... it hurts... Why does it hurt so much..." she almost whispers, blood running from her mouth. Then the loud, ripping noise that signals her demise reaches your ears, and you see her own terrible brood land near yours.

But you are just two of many victims that this outbreak would claim. This town would be utterly devastated, the foul creatures you birthed giving you many, many monstrous descendants.

It is a small mercy you would not live to see it. Darkness begins to consume you, and you welcome its embrace.

#bad end #bursting #monster pregnancy #unwanted pregnancy #first person perspective #rapid pregnancy

[zachfett]

INFRA (2016, Loiste Interactive)

If you like exploration-focused games and the aesthetics of Source Engine, then absolutely 100% play this, it's phenomenal.

#INFRA #2016 #Loiste Interactive #Source Engine #gaming #pc games #video games #virtual photography #gaming photography #my screenshots #in game photography #video game photography #games #pc gaming #aesthetic #PC #atmospheric #atmosphere #first person game #first person perspective #first person pov #spooky #Steam #adventure games #exploration game

[kizzywh]

Ever After (Spencer Reid x Reader)

This switches between two points of view.

Content Warnings: suicide attempt, mentions of self-harm, mentions of kidnapping and torture, some angst, happy ending. DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST IF IT WILL TRIGGER YOU. FANFICTION ISN’T WORTH YOUR MENTAL HEALTH. 

Your Pov

I’d never expected to make it this far. Working in the BAU had been a dream come true. That is, until it wasn’t. I loved the team, even Hotch, who sometimes made himself impossible to love. But the person I loved the most was Spencer Reid. His dorky outfits, and the way he brushed his brown hair from his golden sun drops of eyes. Brown didn’t begin to do Reid justice. He was like an autumn day, like leaves in a puddle, after a rainstorm. The way his lips quirked into a soft smile, usually directed at something stupid I had said. Those lips that I could’ve kissed a thousand times. But I never did. He was the first person I wrote my note to. I left it on his desk, in a small brown envelope, tinged with sadness, but sealed with finality. There was only so much one person could take.

The last case had almost killed me. working on a case where I looked so similar to the unsub’s usual type, y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes, it was a recipe for disaster. But I thought I could help. Get on the inside, destroy the unsub from the inside, out. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

~ 2 weeks earlier ~

“Guys, it’s the only way. None of you look like his type, and it’s the only way we can stop him from hurting more people.” I said, leaning back from the table in the round room. It was a local case, meaning we were all in our usual office. A pleasant change from taking the jet, I’d admit. I could see Spencer almost visibly balk at my suggestion, and he was quick to try to shut me down. “Absolutely not, y/n. it isn’t safe.” He stated, almost pleading with the room to agree with him; but of course, everyone knew just as well as he did that it was the only way.

“I don’t like it, but I cannot see another way to handle this case.” Hotch had finally sighed, a frown briefly passing over his darkened features; before he’d agreed, and you had soon found yourself in a local bar, taking in the view, with a small microphone on your stomach, with a gps in it, so you could immediately get back up. The team had stayed back in the round room. Somehow Garcia had managed to find glasses with a microscopic camera in them, so they could see exactly what I was seeing. I knew who I was looking for. Mysterious, charming man, with the social skills to charm whatever lady he wanted, and I could say that I was looking good, thanks to the makeover provided by Emily, JJ and Pen. Morgan had wolf whistled the second I walked out, in a tight-fitting red dress, and my hair curled. Even Hotch and Rossi looked impressed. Reid however, refused to meet my eye, almost choking on his words as he wished me good luck. Typical Reid.

Soon, a tall man approached, with a drink in hand, and sat by my side at the bar. “You are quite possibly the most beautiful woman in here, what is your name?” he asked, pulling out the full charm. I made sure to gaze into his eyes, so the team could see his face, before replying, “Bea.” The team had agreed I go with a fake name. It wasn’t worth the extra confusion. We chatted for a while, and I had to admit he was charming, easy to see how he had seduced so many women. He offered a drink, and I took it, knowing I’d watched the bartender pour it myself. It was safe. Or so I had thought.

He took the time to introduce himself. “Daniel, my lady.” It would’ve brought a blush to my face, except I knew what he was, and it almost repulsed me, but I had to play into the act. Laying a hand on his arm and laughing at what he said seemed to do the trick, because soon he was asking if I’d like to get out of this flashy bar. I nodded, making sure to keep an eye on him, as I followed him to the car. I was nervous, but I knew the team were right with me. They could extract me as soon as I had arrived at the unsub, or Daniel’s, holding location.

I begin to feel very sleepy as I get into the car, almost tripping on the step, but soon I am seated, and I felt so out of myself, that I didn’t notice the car lock turning, leaving me alone, in his car, with a monster himself. Trying to force my eyes open, I try to make conversation with him, acting flirty, but mostly, I almost forget why I am here. I am so tired.

When I awake, I’m tied to the ceiling, hanging by my wrists, and I almost cry out in pain. My glasses are gone, and a blurry figure falls into my vision. “You thought you were clever, eh y/n? you thought I wouldn’t guess your little game? Well, now your friends back at the bureau get to see what I can do to you, and there’s no way they can find me now.” That was the last of it I heard, before blows from a blunt object start hitting my body, and I fall unconscious again.

~ Back at the Office ~

“Guys, we have a problem. y/n’s tracker is going off in a parking lot, but her camera isn’t working, and I have no sound, I don’t think its connectivity issues, but oh my god, I think something is wrong.” Penelope almost shouted as she ran into the bullring. The team looked up, and Hotch was first to stand. “What do you mean it isn’t working, where is she Garcia?” hotch frowned, before going to the board. “The last coordinates, what are they for?” Penelope was close to tears, “it’s just a carpark, I’ve sent the coordinates to your phones, please find her. Please.” She sobbed out, before running back to her office to keep checking for any signs of life.

Emily was furious. She almost lost her mind when she found out y/n had disappeared. “We should’ve sent someone with her. Where the Hell is she and what is he doing to her?” she fumed, as JJ just slumped down in her chair, and even Derek couldn’t form a sentence or something clever to say. Spencer however, nearly broke. Y/n was one of his favourite people. She always got him his morning coffee and lent him books he’d finish within about ten minutes of being given them. They were like twin flames, and he adored her. Of course, he couldn’t tell her that. He got up and walked away, over to the kitchen, biting his lip so hard almost drew blood. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t feel, he was just numb. She had to be okay. She had to be.

The team could see spencer spiralling, and Morgan and Rossi were soon on the way to y/n’s last coordinates, while the rest of the team gathered in the round room. “So, what do we know about this guy anyway?” JJ asked, pointing to the board, expecting Spencer to reply instantly, but he just whispered after a brief pause, “rape, torture, murder.” Those three words were killing him. Who knew what they were doing to her?

“Guys. GUYS. We have a feed, it’s coming from a proxy server so I can’t triangulate it right now, but its y/n. I’m sharing it to the board now.” Garcia piped down the phone, staying in her office to try and keep herself calm. And sure enough, there was y/n on the screen, hung from the ceiling, while the unsub looked into the camera. “You thought you were so clever, sending Agent y/n in to see me? well. Boy, do I have a show for you.” He smirked, before walking over to y/n and tilting her chin. “My, she is truly remarkable, I am going to enjoy this.” He laughed, taunting the camera. A call came in from Morgan and Rossi. “Are you seeing this video of y/n?” Morgan yelled down the phone. “It’s being sent to all our phones.” And sure enough, it was. All you could hear was Y/n refusing to cry, as the unsub cut into her with various knives, and soon it was too much for her to handle. Her screams filled the round room. Penelope was sobbing, and so was JJ. Emily was so angry; she almost threw her paper on the floor. Hotch just looked pale, and Spencer, he almost threw up.

“Garcia, triangulate it NOW.” Hotch ordered, and Penelope obliged, sobbing through her tears, before shouting out some coordinates. “Go get her guys. Please.” Before hanging up and sitting in her office, her heart breaking.

Reid was the first in the car. He was furious, but he was terrified. The camera feed had cut off almost at the same time Garcia had read out the coordinates. Who knew what they’d find. “Right, when we arrive, the priority is taking down Daniel. He could hurt the rest of us otherwise.” Hotch ordered as they pulled up.

Your POV

I didn’t know how long I had been in this room, all I could smell was blood, and sweat, and I was in agony. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling, it was pain, it was torture, and he just wasn’t stopping. “Now, they think they know where we are y/n, so let’s give them something to see when they get here huh?” Daniel grinned, before continuing to cut and beat me. I didn’t think I could take much more. I heard vaguely the slamming of car doors, and I heard. “Daniel Carter. Put the knife down, and step away.” it was hotch. They had found me.

Then I felt the coldness of a blade against my neck. “If you shoot me, your precious agent dies too.” Daniel laughed coldly, pressing it almost deep enough to draw blood. I tried not to move; I was too exhausted to. The last thing I heard was a gunshot and felt the sharp graze of the knife on my neck, and Daniel drop to the floor next to me before I slipped back into a world of darkness.

Spencer’s Pov

Almost barging through the house, to the basement where y/n was, I could feel the tension in my head. She had to be safe. She is all I have. Pointing a gun at Daniel, I can see her hanging there, and it takes all my strength not to push that son of a bitch out of the way and get her down. I don’t know how much blood she’s lost, but judging by the floor, it seemed to be a lot. Finally, Emily manages to sneak behind, and shoot Daniel, and I push past them all, reaching for y/n, and fumbling with the restraints, before Hotch helps me gently remove her, and I carry her, bridal style, cradling her, shouting for medics. She opens those beautiful eyes and smiles at me, and I beg her to stay with me. she’s so cold.

~ Present Day~

Your Pov

I had made a full physical recovery, but mentally, it had destroyed me. I had nothing left to give. That’s why I had written the final note to Spencer. He had to know how I felt, before I was erased from this life, like the blood from a crime scene. Sitting on that lonely bridge, in the moonlight, I felt a sense of peace. This was really happening, I couldn’t fix my brain, but right now, I felt peaceful, calm. As if the last moments of my life were destined to be some calm ending to a tumultuous tale. I can hear owls in the distance, calling for their families, and I briefly recall the lack of my own family. Maybe it was just the way I was, maybe I was just unlovable, unfixable.

Spencer’s Pov

I was surprised to see a note on my desk, but I immediately unsealed it. Then froze. Y/N. she was going to hurt herself, commit suicide. There wasn’t time to call the team. I knew where she’d be. She thought I didn’t love her, and that she was going to be alone, she couldn’t heal herself from the wounds that that monster had inflicted on her. I ran for my car, driving well over the speed limit to the bridge, pulling up a few yards away, so as not to startle her into something impulsive, before beginning to walk toward her, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. There was something almost angelic in how she looked in the moonlight. “y/n. y/n, listen to me.”

Your Pov

There was a crunching on gravel, and as I look up, its Spencer. I cursed myself for choosing a bridge about which we had talked. He liked the architecture, the simple, almost British cobblestone bridge. I liked that it looked like something out of a fairy tale and thought it fitting that this would be the never after of mine. The moon bounces off his messy brown curls, and it almost makes me sigh. He never fails to look handsome, not even in the pale, watery light of the moon. “y/n. y/n, listen to me.” I heard him say, before he gently holds his hands up, walking closer. “You don’t have to do this.” He states, trying not to scare me, I note. “I do spence. I can’t do this alone.” I sob, shuffling closer to the edge. He panics, before breathing in, and walking to within touching distance. “I care about you, y/n, please, just listen to me.” but I can’t. I have to go now. I push forward, ready to fall into nothingness. But something, someone, is pulling me back. Spencer. He grips me tightly, falling to the path side and lays on the ground, clutching me close, I try to resist, but I can’t. I lie there with him, listening to both of our heavy breathing, and noticing those dragon puffs of air that only happen, when the air is crisp. He pulls us up to a sitting position and holds me by the waist.

“y/n. no. You’re not doing anything alone. I am here. I got your note, and I KNEW what you were going to do. Do you think I don’t love you? You couldn’t be more wrong.” He whispers against my hair, his lips pressed to my head gently. He reaches a slender hand to point at the moon. “You see that?” I nod, following his gaze, as he keeps an arm around me, holding me to him. “That is what we share. You are my moonlight. We are like the sun and the moon, constantly orbiting each other, sharing the same sky, somewhere. I love you; y/n. believe me. from the moment you walked into the office on your first day, almost tripping over my satchel and spilling your latte in my lap, I loved you.” He whispers more, stroking slow circles on my shoulder. I laugh at the memory. It hadn’t been one of my proudest moments. Even hotch had cracked a smile at it.

The breeze picked up, and spencer shivered, pulling me closer, and instinctively, I rest my head on his shoulder. “Spencer. I love you.” I mumbled, and he turned me to face him, smiling down at me with those golden eyes, almost hinted with silver in the moonlight. He’d never looked more angelic, and I told him that, his lips quirking into a smile, my favourite dimples on his cheeks. “I love you too y/n.” before softly, his lips brushed against mine, I kissed him back, shyly. This was what kissing spencer Reid was like? It was… magical. He gently increased the pressure of the kiss, cupping my chin with one of his hands, and I almost melted. I was hurting. And part of me didn’t think it would go away anytime soon, but I knew, and spencer knew, that he was never going to be far from me again.

The bridge had turned out to have a happily ever after, after all.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #my boy spencer #spencer falls in love #x reader #first person perspective #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid angst #happy ending

[autistic-gay-men-kissing]

little sketch I did bc a Discord friend mentioned I should do this. So I did 😭

@adevilyoudo tagging you because you might be interested

#bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael #raphael the cambion #raphael bg3 #art #my art #gothys art #Gothy’s art #drawing #illustration #sketch #Doodle #first person #first person perspective #first person pov #leash

[randomlymad]

For someone whose face and name I no longer remember, you occupy way too much of my mind-space recently, you skinny weaponized bastard-

#randomly mad #umabbas #sketch #illustration #drawing #personal art #personal #original art #original illustration #indoors #first person perspective #full body illustration #digital ink #pen and ink #comic art

[lara-prisma-avm-ask-blog]

Stickronpa - prologue part 1

???:".... Arrg..."

-I felt my head spin, it hurt as if I got hit it, but rubbing my hand behind it I didn't feel anything wrong.-

???:"Where... Where am I...?"

-I finally opened my eyes to find myself in some sort of supply closet, a few bottles of cleaning products and a drying rack. It was dark and I tried to get up, feeling very dizzy and with wobbly legs.-

???:"H-Hello?? Anyone out there??"

-I knocked on the door several times, I could feel the knob and started to turn it to get out.-

???:"Come on... Open it!!"

-the door opened briefly and I felt my body fall to the ground very hard, I raised my head slowly, someone was opening the door!-

???:"Second!!"

-a familiar voice... Green! I lifted my head, it was him!! I felt relieved that I wasn't alone in this weird place! I tried to get up, he helped me a little.-

Green:"Hey man, calm down... How did you get into that closet?"

-I looked at him, and I looked at the closet-

Second:"I have no idea... I just... woke up trapped inside!"

-I still felt this dizziness, my head was still spinning.-

Green:"You too?? I woke up in a room near here! I was alone and started looking for other people! Glad I found you, knowing you I don't doubt it and I would start having a panic attack!"

-I laughed nervously, but Green was right... I suffer from anxiety attacks a lot when I'm alone... I don't like being alone...-

Second:"Do you... Do you think the others are here...?"

Green:"Most likely, I hope Purple is okay..."

- Green was worried, Purple is also nervous when they are in strange places...-

Second:"Let's find the others then!"

Green:"Sec, did you get any weird paper?"

Second:"A strange paper? Like a note?"

- as soon as I asked, he took a piece of paper from his pocket, the paper had a green symbol, It looked like a musical note surrounded by sound waves.-

Green:"I found this in my pocket when I woke up, here it says to go to the main hall to meet the other "participants", and here is my name and... A title?"

Second:"A title? Wait a second!"

- I started looking in my pockets, I felt something in my coat left pocket, it was an identical note! But the symbol was different. It was a symbol of a digital pencil with a line circling it and changing to something similar to flames.-

Second:"Here it says the same!"

Green:"Do you have a title too??"

Second:" yes, it says... Second Coming the Ultimate Artist!"

- why was I described as "Ultimate"? It looked like a title the Dark Lord would use!-

Green:"It makes sense! You are an amazing artist! Without you Alan wouldn't be as good at drawing or animating!"

- Green smiled at me, I couldn't resist being embarrassed, I felt my cheeks turn red. I pulled my hood up to hide the embarrassment.-

Green:"Haha, sec... Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you! I think I better say what my title says. Green, the Ultimate Musician!"

- come to think of it, these titles kind of make sense I'm an artist, and I was practically born being a good artist hehe... And Green makes amazing music! Even if they keep me up at night...-

Green:"I think we'd better go to this main hall, maybe the others will be there!"

- Me and Green agreed and followed the corridor we were in until we reached a larger corridor. There we saw a brown door and a red door, both reaching almost to the very high ceiling. We opened the brown colored door, which we were surprised...-

???:"Finally arrived!"

- that grave and rude voice, I recognize it everywhere...-

Green:"Orangutan?"

Orange:"I already told your brat, my name is not "orangutan", It's Orange!!"

-It was MT, or as he preferred to be called, Orange. Green laughed, he liked to make fun of him. I hesitated a bit but ended up laughing too.-

Orange:"Son of-"

???:"SEC!! GREEN!!!"

- within seconds, we felt a tight hug from Red. He was strong even though he was younger and smaller than me or Green.-

Red:"I was afraid I hadn't found you!!"

Second:"us too Reddy..."

- I patted him, his smile was so softening, I smiled back.-

Blue: "Did you get that note too?"

Sedond:"Blue!"

- I hugged blue who laughed hugging me back, I saw Orange roll his eyes.-

Green: "yes, did you guys get titles too?"

Blue:"yup, I don't think it makes much sense, but creative..."

- He said with a smirk, he's soo full of himself.

Blue: "mine says Blue the Ultimate Alchemist!"

-alchemist? would it be because he makes potions?-

Red:"my turn!! I'm Red, and you guys know that already hehe. I'm the Ultimate Animal Caretaker!"

Blue:"super suits you buddy!"

-Blue smiled, patting Red's head, who smiled too-

Orange:"Excellent! Now it's me? Arrg!"

-He seemed uncomfortable sharing his title-

Green: "Any problems, orangutan?"

- MT glares at Green.-

Orange:"Whoever the idiot made those notes sure has a horrible sense of humor! They used my nickname instead of my name!"

Green:"Okay, and...?"

-Green smirked. MT was pissed-

Orange:"You annoying brat.... Arrg! Mongo Tango..."

Second:"And the title?"

Orange:"arrg.... I don't feel right using that title but.... It's The Ultimate Monarch..."

- Monarch? But... He renounced being a king... I don't know what that means, but now I understand why he doesn't feel comfortable with that title...-

Red:"I thought you liked being seen as royalty..."

Orange:"I "liked it", but I have no more reason to keep that title after... You know..."

-he stared at us... I feel a little bad now, even though I know he was evil at the time, he was "almost" our friend now...-

Green:"Don't blame us! blame-"

- the door behind us opens, and there were the rest of our group...-

-they were Yellow and Purple!-

Yellow:"Guys!!"

Blue:"Yelly! Purp!"

- Blue and yellow hug each other as if they've been separated for a long time, Purple smiles and looks towards MT.-

Purple:"Oh! You are here! I was very worried, King..."

-MT mutters something, he grits his teeth looking down before looking at Purple.-

Orange:"Good to see you're doing well little prince..."

-He seemed to force himself to say it, trying to be "nice." I could feel Purple get a little embarrassed about it.-

Purple:"I-I already told you not to call me that..."

-They hold the arm, MT flashes an awkward smile. they complain don't know smile...-

Orange:"And I don't like it when you call me that either..."

Blue:"so it's just us?"

-Before we could speak, the door opened once more, this time two people entered and...-

Blue:"You!?"

-who did we see in front of us was.... Chosen One and Dark Lord??-

Blue:"No fucking way I'm staying in the same place as this killer!!!

- Blue raised his voice pointing to Dark who was there staring at us one by one.-

Dark:"I guess you're still pissed that I killed your little friends isn't it..?"

- He spoke in a tone that left me with a shiver down my spine... I... I thought...-

Green:"s-sec..?"

-my hands were shaking, I was almost hyperventilating. I try to look at the floor try not to look at them... I think Green and the others noticed that...-

Blue:"Better get away from us before they have a panic attack!!"

-Blue was in Dark's face and he was grinding his teeth. Green pulled me away from them a little for reassurance. I close my eyes and take a deep breath trying not to think about that day...-

Green:"He won't do anything ok...?"

- Green smile trying to keep me calm...-

Chosen:"Enough of that! Dark, don't try to pick a fight with anyone!"

-Dark range before heading to a far corner of the hall.-

Chosen:"Sorry about that..."

Red:"I-I... H-he......"

- Red was holding his shirt chest, he was very nervous, I could see..."

Chosen:"Yes... I know very well..."

-He looks at the ground keeping his posture.-

Chosen:"Are you okay kid?"

-He turned to me, approaching me a little, I felt my foot move backwards, Green kept his hand on my shoulder massaging my back with the other.-

Second:"Y-yes.... I just...-

Chosen:"You thought he was dead... didn't you?"

-It almost sounded like an interrogation, I could only nod. he sighed-

Chosen:"Me too... He somehow survived... It took time to tend to his wounds and burns..."

- I laugh nervously, He looks to the side.-

Chosen:"We all get the titles right?"

Yellow:"Yes, mine is Yellow, the Ultimate Inventor!"

Blue:"nice title, as much as the owner!"

-Blue gave a little wink to Yellow who laughs with a blush on her face, Blue just kept looking at her with a flirtatious look. These two, always flirting with each other.-

Blue: "I'm an alchemist you know? What do you think? Does it suit me?"

Yellow:"very much, Bluey..."

- MT looked disgusted with this display of affection. Blue and Yellow were very open about their relationship, even though they weren't officially dating...-

Chosen:"Are they...."

- Chosen looked confused as he looked at them with a raised eyebrow.-

Red:"Nope, they're not dating yet! They just like to show how passionate they are for each other!"

-Chosen face the two, his eyes then directed towards Dark who for a second was looking towards us but quickly he lookd at the huge stage in the hall.-

Green:"And you Purple?"

-Purple jumps, they look at Green surprised and a little nervous...-

Purple:"M-me?? A-ah I...."

-They look to the side, holding one arm with one hand-

Purple:"I... I don't have a title..."

Red:"Whoa!?"

Purple:"Yes.... All my card says is... "Ultimate ???"..."

- we look at Purple, how do we all receive titles and among all of us they don't have one??-

Yellow:"It doesn't seem very fair..."

Blue:"Whoever brought us here will get a beating until they give you a title you deserve!!"

-Blue smirks, clenching his fists with the full intention of punching someone. -

Yellow:"Blue, no threats!"

Blue:"Alright... Alright, sunshine!"

-Yellow blushes a lot and punches him in the shoulder. he laughs scratching his head.-

Second: "hey, Chosen right? what's your title?"

-He looked at me silently and I sigh after looking at Dark and then at me.-

Chosen:"I am the Chosen One... The Ultimate Chosen..."

-He looked up at the ceiling trying to ignore eye contact. Chosen? I think they took his name too literally...-

Green:"Chosen? For what?"

Chosen:"I was created with that name... It represents how strong I am and How powerful am I..."

Blue:"If that's the case, can you get us out of here?"

Chosen:"Sorry to inform you, but unfortunately my powers and Dark's are not working, believe me, I tried..."

Red:"Y-you mean... Are we stuck here??"

-Yellow tries to calm Red who was shaking from the situation. I can't blame him... I look at the Dark Lord, he was staring at me with a cold gaze. I felt myself being targeted...-

Chosen:"Are you wondering if he also has a title? Yes, but he didn't tell me what it was—"

Dark:"Ultimate Destroyer..."

Green:"W-what?"

-Everyone looks at Dark.-

Dark:"My title... is The Ultimate Destroyer..."

Second:"o-oh... G-good to know..."

-I tried to smile but he didn't fall for it...-

Dark:"The title fits me! It's all I know how to do anyway..."

-He looks to the side and comes back to sit on the stage.-

Chosen:"I'm sorry about that kid..."

-Chosen says goodbye to me and goes to where Dark was. Soon more people start arriving little by little. A purple woman, some kind of scientist, and...-

Purple:"father..?"

-We all looked at Purple and then in the direction they were looking... It was a dark blue stickman... Was he... Purple's father...?-

[To be continued! Because of the image limitation, I will have to continue the prologue in the next part! Hope you're not upset about it!TwT]

#animation vs minecraft #alan becker #animator vs animation #avm green #avm second coming #avm blue #ava dark lord #ava chosen one #avm orange #avm purple #avm yellow #avm red #stickronpa #danganronpa #fanganronpa #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa fanmade #avm fanart #avm danganronpa au #first person perspective

[cxcassii]

Healing In Your Pheromones

Sneak peek of chapter 3 and the introduction of alpha Eren’s POV. 💚

#eremika #eremika fanfic #omegaverse #omega Mikasa #alpha Eren #my work #first person perspective

[welcome-home-art-dump]

Wally Darling x Kaiju Reader One-shot

Just a little scenario from my book;

"Wally's having an issue getting an apple from an apple tree, when much taller Kaiju-reader comes to the rescue"

Someone suggested it on my Wattpad.

It was a warm, peaceful noon in the colorful neighborhood of Home. The sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves of the surrounding woods filled the air, and the sweet scent of flowers and leaves wafted in the air, which spread from the lukewarm breeze that blew through the town. Such pleasant weather brought out the residents out of their houses; Frank was out in search of butterflies to reasearch, Julie was out playing hopscotch with Sally, Barnaby was exchanging jokes with Howdy, Eddie was delivering his usual routes and Poppy was doing her usual baking.

Overall, like usual, everyone was enjoying themselves in the radiant sunshine.

....well... almost everyone was enjoying themselves.

"Oh dear..."

Normally, on a day like today, local painter, Wally would use a day like today for prime painting time, as the sun's light caught everything just right. He already had his canvas set up, with his art supplies out and ready for use. However, the canvas was not only blank, but the paints and brushes haven't even been touched, save for being set out. Even the stool he sat at was empty, as he stood a few paces away from it, his focus trained on something hanging overhead.

"Gosh darn it..." Wally muttered to himself, staring up at a plump, red delicious apple that hung on a sturdy branch several feet above him. For the past several minutes, he was struggling to get to the darn fruit, at first trying to reach it by standing on his stool, then tried to use a stick to dislodge it, and at some point even tried jumping on his stool to get it for himself.

Nothing worked.

The apple still hung there, swaying gently in the breeze almost tauntingly. He stared back at it, his usual smile strained in frustration, his hand brought up to his chin as he contemplated the high hanging fruit.

"Wally?"

A dark shadow suddenly loomed over him, which didn't startle him, per-say, but it was sudden enough to snap him out of his deep thought. He curiously glanced over his shoulder and once he recognized the (color) pants and (color) shoes, he felt his frustration evaporate and replace itself with pure joy.

"(Name). What a pleasant surprise." He drawled in his usual placid voice, instinctively speedwalking up to you and hugging your shin. "Hiya, Neighbor. What brings you out here?" He asked, tilting his head back so he could look up at you.

You shrugged, getting onto one knee so he'd see your face better. "I was on my way to my usual sunning spot. I wanna warm up my wings." You replied, fluttering the (color) webbed wings on your back for emphasis.

"Sounds lovely." Wally's smile broadened slightly at the thought. He always loved how peaceful you looked when you sunned, with those magnificent, shiny wings of yours flared out. Oh, how he'd love to see them in action, but he's yet to see you take flight. He could only wonder how graceful you looked in the air. He had to remember to ask for a ride sometime. "...I wish I had wings."

You chuckled softly and gave him a friendly pat on the head, careful not to mess up his pompadour. "So! What brings you out here today, neighbor?"

Wally smiled peacefully. "Oh, you know me," Wally stepped off your leg, neatly lacing his hands behind his back and subtly rocking back and forth on his heels as he turned his head towards the side, towards his art set-up. "Just out doing some painting on such a vibrant day."

"Ah, I see." You smiled at the display, and turned back to him. "Well, what were you jumping for?"

Wally blinked. "Eh?"

"When I was walking by, I saw you were jumping on your stool here." You explained, matter-of-factly.

"You did?" Wally was a bit surprised, but tried not to show it. He swore that he was alone, with everyone back at the neighborhood doing their own things. He didn't even see you. How far away were you when he was doing that? He felt his face grow warm with modesty at the fact you managed to catch him in such a silly predicament. "I didn't think you could see that far."

You chuckled in response, pointing to your eyes. "I can see pretty far with these eyes."

"Oh I bet..." Wally murmured in response, his cheeks going from a vibrant orange to a vivid red as he locked his eyes with your brilliant slitted (color) eyes. He smiled broadly, tilting his head and smiling lazily.

"...I can see far into yours..."

You snickered softly at the comment, as you broke away from his gaze and idly looked up from the place he was hopping at and caught sight of the apple dangling on a sturdy branch just a few feet above him.

"Oh!" you let out lighthearted chuckle, reaching up and pulling an apple from its branch and held it in front of him. "Is this what you were trying to get?"

Wally stared at the offered apple for a moment, blinking a couple times. "I-I was." He affirmed somewhat awkwardly before silently taking the apple from your hand. "Thank you."

"No problem!" You placed a hand on his head. "If you need a hand with anything, don't hesitate to call me, okay?"

Wally silently nodded, his smile not wavering.

You nodded back and slowly rose to your feet. "Watch out for my tail." You warned as you turned around, making sure your tail didn't hit the little painter as you sauntered back towards your sunning spot, unaware of Wally watching your tail's snake-like movement in the grass.

Wally stared in your direction for a moment, before looking down at the apple in his hands, his smile wide and dopey at the fact you had held it. He held the apple to his chest, humming at a warm feeling in his cheeks.

He looked back to his art set up.

He found his inspiration for the day.

Admittedly, had a bit of difficulty trying to capture Wally's personality.

Anyhow, this is a bit slowburn, but if any of yall have more scenarios/one-shots, the asks are open.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #welcome home fanart #first person perspective #first person pov #welcome home x reader #tall reader #scenario #one shot #wally darling x you #reader is oblivious #wally x y/n

[muchelburstenstein]

Adventures of You: Close Friends

(Content Warning: Burst)

You shudder as you realize that it’s almost time.

You're sweating, everything hurts from the top of your head to the tips of your toes to varying degrees. In no small part, the immense cramping and tension is due to how quickly you've grown with the monster's offspring. You shudder at a strong kick from inside, and I stroke your hair, trying to keep you calm.

I can’t help but wince as my own creature moves violently, straining my own full term swell. We both know there's no getting it out. Not alive, at least. It's why we were so scared of it, why we told the others that going into these caves was a bad idea. But they just laughed, calling us wimps, marching boldly into the dark.

Of course, they were boys. What the abomination found them, is simply ripped them apart. Quick, messy deaths, moving faster than we could follow, from one to the other, all of them decimated within seconds. But what it did to us was so, so much worse. We're both still sore just from the impregnation.

It's been about an entire day. That’s what my phone says, at least. We've been growing at a steady pace, awkwardly looking for escape as our center of balance slowly shifted, all the weight gain exclusively in our bellies, hoping that we could get help, save ourselves from having to deliver our inhuman offspring. In the end, though, the caves were too labyrinthine, we had gotten far too lost, and we were utterly exhausted, ripe and on the cusp of “labor”. It's just about time, and if nothing else we'll be able to face it together.

Your child presses forward once more as I gently stroke your belly, the feathery touches soothing your hot, straining flesh. Our bellies are right next to each other, fully illuminated in the light of my phone, so you can easily see that the movement of both our nightmarish children has picked up. I moan in pain as a full-blown thrust comes from inside. "It's... s-starting..." I whimper. A sharp jab comes from your own offspring as well, and you know you're not far behind.

We're in labor. There's no going back, all we can do is stay strong, and let our babies be born.

"Try to r-relax AHN!" I pant, as my own horror continues its efforts. You feel sharp pains, it's biting you. Tugging away at the delicate flesh of your womb, torturing you from inside. "Oh... oh no, it huuuurts..." I moan, my own baby joining the horrid fun. Sweat begins to run down our bodies, as the damage begins to mount. "It's gonna burst... We're bursting, it's really happening..." I cry as the pain mounts. It's getting ugly, between the bites and thrusts it's begun clawing at you as well, sharp points raking you from the inside, drawing blood.

"T-try to relax hon..." I whimper as soothingly as I can, stroking your aching womb as the nightmare inside your body continues its assault. Mercilessly thrusting over and over, making the internal pressure mount higher with each slam against your body, making you spread your legs reflexively, secretly hoping your waters will break and you’ll be saved, only having to scream out this nightmare between your delicate feminine lips.

I continue talking, trying to guide you while distracting myself from my own unbearable agony."If y-you tense up, it'll just AHN! J-just hurt more, t-take longer. I r-read it somewhere, and- MNPH! I-it's inevitable. Our babies are gonna r-rip us apart, it’s j-just dragging it o-o-OUT!" Your bellybutton slowly turns a bright red, your monster child making visible progress.

"Hahn… hah… J-just relax... let him r-rip you open... let him... ngh... let him kill you from the inside, you c-can't stop him, let him tear your belly o-open and be b-born..." I turn my attention to my own deadly offspring. "Come on l-little one... come o-on, tear out of mommy, meet your b-brother..." The child responds with vigor, eagerly thrusting harder, trying to break out of its agonized, fleshy egg. "Oh god it hurts! You're hurting mommy so much you little monster. C-come on, thrust baby, jump out and see m-mommy and auntie... AHN IT BURNS! Oh, it hurts, it h-hurts so bad… here, can you f-feel how strong he i-is?"

I straddle you, sweat running down my face as my longer, damp hair falls around my face. I carefully press my womb against yours, bellybutton to bellybutton. You feel not only the efforts of your child pushing out, but my child pushing against you. "MNPH... I can’t b-believe this is really happening, it hurt so bad, I c-can’t… Oh they're coming, they're gonna come OUT! Don't make mommy wait little ones, burst me, burst out of my b-belly and rape another girl p-pregnant with monsters, I can't stop you, c-come on, don’t m-make me wait!"

The words spur your own offspring to greater heights, combined with the thrusting of my monstrosity, and it becomes an aggravated frenzy of unbearable pressure and pain, both our children shoving against one another, trying to hatch out of their horrified, human eggs. "God... it's coming... I feel it, it h-hurts so baaad, come on little baby, crack me apart like a sh-shell, rip me OPEN, PLEASE, HURRY IT’S SO BAD!!!" You begin to hear faint tearing sounds from my womb, though you can feel your own body is not far behind.

I lean down, putting my hands on either side of your face and staring intensely into your eyes, even as tears fall from mine. "Burst with me..." I pant, sliding my hands down, over your cheeks, brushing your breasts, until I’m firmly holding your womb. "Please. Come on, let your baby be born, let it fill another poor g-girl with its deadly offspring, it's gonna t-torture it's way out of us, please, PLEASE IT'S RIPPING ME OPEN, I CAN’T TAKE IT, MAKE IT STOP!!!"

My brave facade falls apart as I begin making guttural noises of intense pain and distress, the clear sound of my uterus rupturing filling the space we're in. Your own child is eagerly shoving and thrusting away, the pressure is driving you insane, you almost wish your own womb would disintegrate just so the pressure is lessened.

Your wish comes true, much to your horror. You feel intense agony, followed by cold numbness. The sound of tearing flesh once again fills the air, but this time from you. You can almost feel every fiber of your uterus being broken one by one, torn apart by tooth and claw and pure, brute shoving force.

We don't have long at all now.

I'm beyond words, falling back from my aggressive, sensual position. I land against the wall across from you, vividly illuminated by the phone while I lean against the cool stone. Sweat drips from my aching, burning hot flesh. I utter a guttural moan as I convulse, toes curling and feet kicking at the floor, shoving myself harder against the wall, instinctively trying to escape the agony and maddening pressure that was echoing through every inch of my being as I began to reach the final moments of hatching.

There's no escape for either of us, however, my scuttling and pleading meaning less than nothing. Our rape babies were ready to be born, eager to emerge any moment now. Your own monstrous offspring is tearing the gaping wound in your uterus even wider, biting off chunks with its teeth while digging into the meat and fat of your abdominal wall with its claws. Every little movement from inside sends white-hot pain shooting deep into your soul.

It’s ok, cry out with the agony of it. There's nobody here to judge you for your helplessness but me, and I'm certainly not handling it any better. Sob and fan your hand at the blazing hot tearing feeling coming from your bruised, life-filled midriff, beg your child for mercy, pray to whatever gods may or may not be listening. Whatever makes you feel better as your deadly child makes its path from your breaking, bleeding body.

I arch my back and curl my toes, lifting myself on my hands and opening my mouth in a silent scream. You see crimson start to leak from a tiny puncture wound, a small spike having punched through my fragile flesh, which then quickly withdraws. Seconds later, you feel the maddening, searing sensation of your unwanted infant's claw piercing your flesh as well.

Not much more. Let it come, hon. Let your inhuman rape baby burst out of your belly as you sob and scream, let your newborn kill you as it rips your abdomen apart.

Don't fight it.

Let yourself birth.

As you tense it hurts even worse, when you relax you feel yourself being torn apart even more quickly, but to slightly less agony. You can tell I'm doing what I can to let my baby come, but can see just as easily that my abomination is obviously enjoying my pain, punching several little holes, even slicing along my skin as though ready to emerge, but always stopping just short. Your own offspring begins to torment you like this as well, savoring your screams and tears, enjoying the feeling of its glorified egg trembling and twitching with every little movement it makes.

This creature is no innocent creature, bursting because that's the only way it knows how to be born. No pitiable, ugly child that has a bad reputation through no fault of its own. No, our children are their father’s sons, through and through, sadistically enjoying torturing its way out of their hosts as they bleed and scream and convulse, likely already looking forward to inflicting this condition on another victim.

You lay there for what feels like forever, the monster's unwanted child thrusting and biting and clawing, feeling it toy with your organs, puncturing your lungs and intestines with its powerful hind legs, making you and I cough up blood as we twitch and spasm violently. Slowly, we begin to get weaker, growing cold due to blood loss and trauma, feeling our lives slip away bit by bit as we struggle to deliver our horrific bursters.

Then, at last, I speak once more. "It's... COMING... OUT!!!" Pushing my belly up as far as I can, at last, the tattered flesh rips open, making a sound like a wet paper bag holding an excited puppy. And, bit by bit, your own child presses forward until your own weakened flesh is overwhelmed. With an inhuman screech, our children tear free from our broken forms, disappearing into darkness quickly, before we can even properly take in their shape.

We collapse back to the ground, heaving in breath, blood oozing from the ruins of our midriffs. Our heads spin, the darkness deepens, and we grow colder as shock overwhelms us. Just two more victims for the legend of the eldritch monstrosities within the caves. Two more warnings for why girls shouldn’t do exactly what we just did.

Our last thoughts are to the poor girls our own children will force to endure this. Somewhere, someday, our birthing of these abominations is going to make at least two other innocent girls scream and sob as our grandchildren tear them apart from inside...

#bad end #monster pregnancy #unwanted pregnancy #bursting #AoY #first person perspective

[zachfett]

Outlast (2013, Red Barrels)

I've always loved the starting area of the first game. It has a nice Autumn-feeling with the wind howling, dead leaves flying around, and the beautiful gloomy sunset.

#Outlast #Miles Upshur #Red Barrels #2013 #gaming #pc games #video games #virtual photography #gaming photography #my screenshots #in game photography #video game photography #games #pc gaming #aesthetic #PC #FPS #first person perspective #horror game #atmospheric #atmosphere #horror #Halloween #spooky #Playstation 4 #Xbox One #J. T. Petty #Autumn #Autumn aesthetic #Fall aesthetic

[pyrosilver230]

KNEADING DOUGH (smut 18+)

Bread woman(F) x 1st person(M)

I awoke in my office chair, overseeing the security footage. Night shift at the enchanted bakery always went smoothly, and I found myself particularly relaxed this night. The electronic mixer had fallen silent, and I worried that I might have to stick my hands into the magical dough that makes fluffy bread. I get up from my chair, scanning the security cameras.

Someone was there. Or rather, something. A human figure, made of bread. Astonished by this, I jump out of my chair to investigate. I knew that strange mishaps occured in this bakery, but never in a million years had I imagined this. I walk out into the aisle to greet this bread creature. Turning the corner, I get my first glimpse of the savory, delectable bread woman that I would end up fucking.

The soft, airy, 6ft goddess of a bread female turned to face me, and my eyes lit up at the sight of her front. Large, soft breasts of bread, not a single flake of crust to be seen. Her exposed body shone in the illuminance of my flashlight. I stopped dead in my tracks. The soft, airy dough woman approached me with a look in her eyes I can only describe as both playful and teasing. Grabbing my shoulders, she gave me no time to react before pulling my face in towards her breasts.

My face hit the warm, fresh oven-baked tits on this gorgeous woman, pressing against her soft yet surprisingly firm breasts. The bread woman let out a soft moan as I took a hand down her back and toward her ass, all the while nearly suffocating myself in her body. I bit down soft, urged on by a primal instinct to consume. At the touch of my teeth, she pulled my head in close, breathing heavy. I gripped her soft, warm ass, feeling my fingers press into her dough. She let out a quiet gasp, biting at her lip and thrusting her hips forward impulsively. Feeling my now-erect cock pressing against her waist through my clothes, I pulled her in towards me harder.

I lift my head up from her breasts, and make my way up toward her neck with my lips. She tasted better than anything I've ever known, her sweet, hot body reacting against my lips, her hands clenching against my sides as I tease all the way up to her earlobes. Licking her sweet lips, I allow my body to move on its own, as I grip her ass harder and grab her soft neck, pulling her towards me. Licking across her bottom lip, I notice her move her hands across my waist, until she's feeling around my chest under my shirt. Feeling her hands rubbing against me, I let out a grunt as I allow her to move further down, below my belt. I press her in towards me further as her soft bread hands wrap around my cock, stroking up and down my shaft. She momentarily takes her hands off of my member to pull down my pants, revealing my throbbing, wet dick.

She wastes no time, immediately reapplying her doughy hands and rubbing smoothly against me. Her warm hands feel amazing, and I'm trying in vain to stifle my moans, as I bite harder against her neck and begin sucking and pulling softly with my lips. The bread woman lets out an intoxicating moan and falls into my arms. Without missing a beat, I walk her backwards, pressing her into a counter with my hips. At this point, she's struggling to stay on her feet, so i grab her waist to support her.

Bending down to kiss her, I notice her hand fall back onto my rock-hard cock, adjusting it into place. With a thrust of my hips, I begin fucking her soft, delicate pussy. The smell of bread fills my lungs as I make out with this goddess of dough, her sweet tits rolling under my fingers as I thrust in and out. Her insides are somehow even softer than her breasts, as I passionately caress and knead her bread. As she feels my hard dick pressing inside her soft insides, the beautiful bread woman arches her legs and wraps them around my waist, pushing me deeper inside. I quicken my pace, rubbing her hard clit against my fingers as I force my dick in and out of her spongy insides.

She's moaning loudly every time I press hard into her, and I begin to feel close. I pull her up onto me by her hips, supporting her on my cock as I fuck her standing up. Feeling thankful for her being so light and airy, I lick and bite at her upper earlobe, sparking waves of pleasure to come cascading down her body, her hips moving rythmically back and forth on my hard cock. We're both moaning loudly between kisses, as I ram myself into her as hard as I can, setting her back down on the countertop to force my cock further inside her soft pussy.

I start going faster, and feel her tighten up as her breath becomes labored and heavy. Her soft bready insides feel too good, and I know I'm close to finishing. The bread woman clenches her soft hands around my arms as she wraps her legs tighter around me, and she arches her back on the countertop. Feeling her pussy tighten up around my cock, wet with my precum, I ram myself as far as I can into her, as she lets out a squeal of pleasure at the stimulation in her deepest part.

Feeling a wave of euphoria wash over me, I thrust as hard as I can inside her tight, delicate soft pussy, releasing all of my load inside. I collapse on top of her, a hot, tired mess from our wonderful night together. My vision fades to black, with my cock still inside her leaking pussy and my head lying on her spongy breasts.

I fall out of my office chair, jolting awake. I look down in horror. A loaf of bread. My dick is inside a loaf of bread, semen still dripping out of the hole I made. This bakery really does magical things to people.

#18+ only #fanfic #fiction #story #writing #bread #first person pov #first person perspective #1st person #18+ #smut

[anubis-prompts]

I was reincarnated into a new world. But the one thing I never expected was.

The crows still remember me.

#writing prompt #story inspiration #story ideas #story inspo #first person perspective #first person pov #writing prompts

[maventheforgotten]

I know I normally write about Red Queen stuff, but there is a game called Maid of Sker, and I'm so sick of no one knowing anything about it. It's a wonderful game that should have a bigger fandom than what it has. It's designed and built like an older resident evil game, so I don't get it. Y'all play the game, please, I promise it's worth it, and if you like it, I'm sorry, but just give it a chance.

#Maid of sker #I'm pleading #Horror game #first person perspective