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shadowofwar-goober · 2 years

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Stains of the Soul Ch. 1: The Mundane of Daily Life

Originally posted on my main, but it fits better here. This is a fic exploring Zog the Eternal’s early life. Just something I’m feeling out atm, all with the help of the wonderful @space-arsonist! I hope you enjoy!

Life in Mordor is many things. It is difficult, it is merciless, it is violent and cruel. It isn’t for the weak willed or faint of heart, or those that are unable or unwilling to do what is necessary to survive. There is no refuge here, no rest for the wicked or innocent, alike. There is strife and struggle and suffering and dominating oppression at every corner of the land. All in this land are servants of the Dark Lord, whether they acknowledge it or not, whether they internalize it or not. All may not revere the Dark Lord, but all heed his beck and call in the end, no matter how weak or fleeting their connection to him may be. But some? Some do break the chains their master had used to tie their entire being to his will. Those rare few are able to shed the weight of the Dark Lord’s will and expectations, but not without a cost. And that toll is far more devastating than any could ever imagine, and it differs from individual to individual. What was the tax that he had paid to get to this point in his life, and how much did it change him in his entirety…?

Dark skies, choked with smogh and ash

Ground blackened wiht with by the fires of Dho Doh Do

“Psst! Zog! Ya over ‘ere?”

The young trickster growled and hissed in frustration as he angrily scratched away at the dirt he was picking at moments before. He throws his head in the direction of the voice, one he was quite familiar with. But no less annoyed with.

Pushkrimp poked his head around the large rock Zog was reclining against, clearly curious as to why his litter mate was hiding so far away from the others in the tribe. There was a bitter, sulfur stink that clung to him, most likely from him and few others roughhousing near a particularly loose patch of soured soil, no doubt. Zog didn’t bother to hide his disgust, and turned his head, huffing to himself. The other uruk rolled his eyes with a flick of his head.

“Boss is pissed at ya.”

When isn’t that glob pissed at something or another? Before Zog could show his disinterest, Pushkrimp quickly quipped,

“‘e wants ta see ya.” Zog’s head snaps in his direction, and he angrily stands as his mate gives him an amused smirk. Like he’s some sort of new pup fresh out of the vats…!

“Why didn’t ya just say that ta begin with?! Dim glob!” He shoves him out of the way and Pushkrimp giggles and snorts like it’s actually funny, or something.

The ground crunched underfoot, a mixture of old and new soot and volcanic rock. Old brambles caught on unguarded shins and clothing alike, irritating, but not biting into toughened skin. Gorgoroth was nearly inhospitable; only the strongest bodies and minds could outlast the constant threats of wild beasts, the spitting mountain, and rival tribes all at once. Lack of food, water, and reasonably safe sleeping burrows made daily life hard, but those hardships were nothing but mundane to the uruks that made this ash heap their home. Some had lived here all their lives, and most believe that they will die here, underneath their Lord’s watchful gaze and in Doom’s shadow.

Not many of the Feral tribe remained in Gorgoroth for long stretches of time; it’s choked skies and dead lands often leave the lot feeling disconnected and confused, not to mention the strain the choked air places on beast and master, alike. Most leave after a few seasons, usually far sooner, when possible. But there are a select few that stay for the majority of their lives, for what reason, none can truly say, but they are some of the toughest old globs in all of Mordor. Or so they, themselves, say. Zog thinks they’re a bit dim, far dimmer than even his litter mate, Pushkrimp, though he can barely believe it, himself.

The camp is abuzzed with life and movement, as always. Young and old all intermingled and worked side by side, day and night doing a variety of dull, but necessary tasks; hunting, skinning, carving, tanning, taming- on and on, with the work never ending and never deviating from what is expected or required of them. Boring. It was unbearably boring here, and Zog was unsure of how much more he could take before he simply-

“YOU! DIMWIT! ‘ERE! NOW!”

Zog couldn’t stop himself from cringing, screwing his eyes shut as his shoulders reached his ears. That bastard’s voice could make a caragor tuck its tail in between its legs and head in the opposite direction. Pushkrimp snickered just in front of him, and just as he continued walking-

“BOTH OF YOU!”

Now it was Zog’s turn to giggle and smirk. His litter mate looked truly aghast and shocked, as though it was never the both of them getting in trouble at the same time, all the time. They both shuffled over to the older uruk, scarred and missing a portion of his left hand. ‘This is why ya don’t fuck with caragors, boys.’ He’d always say. Yeah? No shrakh… Zog tried to maintain a neutral face as he watched the uruk become seemingly more and more annoyed with each step he and his mate took towards him. How could he not crack a grin when the old arse’s face became flushed dark grey as they stood just in front of him, heads hanging low like they were already whipped, or something. After a few awkward and tense moments of silence, the older uruk finally speaks up.

“…Well?” His arms are crossed, and he is staring at Zog expectantly. The young trickster does his best to look unphased by his scalding glare.

“Well, what?” Wrong choice of words. His hood is snatched, along with a fistful of his wild, red hair as he is dragged off, cursing and complaining the whole way. Pushkrimp was left unsure if he should follow, unil a “COME, DIMWIT!’ was thrown at him from over Zog’s crumpled and limping form. They were both forcibly guided to the other side of camp, until they were deposited near a particularly sour and hot headed elder, Kuga. Zog and this old bastard often butted head with one another, and he was a bit disappointed in himself for being caught so easily when it really could have been anyone that had-

“You little shrakh…! What the ‘ell do you get outta being such a pain in the arse for?! EH?!” Zog could only just barely make eye contact with his elder, having to awkwardly crane his neck to even capture a glimpse of him from how both his hood and hair were still tightly grasped and being shaken every now and then. Pushkrimp shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, trying his best to not look completely guilty, and failing miserably all the while. Useless glob… Pushkrimp is always the reason why Zog gets caught!

“…don’t know what ya talkin’ ‘bout- OW!” Claws graze past Zog’s scalp and nearly ripped out an entire fistful of coppery hair. Zog just barely manages to both untangle the slender, spider-like fingers from his hair and swat away any attempts to repeatedly smack him on the back of the head.

“A-ALRIGHT, ALRI- OI! I SAID FINE!” Zog held his hands up in defeat, partially using them to protect him from the blows that still haven’t stopped landing on him. After one last, good and loud SMACK on the back of his head, it mercifully stops.

“You little maggot! Ya think it’s funny ta fuck about with yer elders?! Think it’s funny ta rile up the caragors and send ‘em in a rage?! Well, brat, whaddya gotta say for yerself?!” Zog could practically feel Boss raising his hand to hit him again, and his survival instincts took over, rather than his need to protect his pride.

“ACK- Y-Yeah, yeah! Fuckin’ hilarious! D-Don’t ‘it me on the damn ‘ead, anymore!” Kuga shook his head disapprovingly, causing Pushkrimp to duck his head in shame. No good bastard… Can’t take a tongue lashing if his life depended on it. Dull, throbbing pin prickles dotted the trickster’s head, and he uncomfortably scratched at his sensitive scalp as a chorus of “dumb pups” and “should of sent ‘em off” was muttered about.

“Why must ye be such a pain in the arse, Zog?” The young Feral couldn’t help but to cringe at his name being spoken, both outright and in such a disappointed tone to boot. He simply shrugged, refusing to look the old uruk in the eye. The elder sighs, and then turns to a much more bashful and visibly uncomfortable Pushkrimp.

“And you. Don’t be lookin’ all whipped ‘n shrakh! You’re innit just as much as ‘e is! Stupid sods, the lot of ya!” He all but withers under Kuga’s harsh gaze, and Zog briefly wonders if he’ll pass out or something. But no, Pushkrimp takes as much lip as Zog does, and stands on his feet through it all. At the end of the tirade about how you don’t get to be annoying shrakhs at your age, his demeanor changes almost instantly. Oh. Oh no.

“You lads clearly have too much time on yer hands! Guess that means that ya wouldn’t mind helpin’ ole Grisha, would you?”

Oh no.

“Oh shrakh! C’mon, not that! Anything but- but that!!” Zog groans, his palm connecting with the bridge of his nose far harder than he intended. Pushkrimp merely sighed heavily, shoulders dropping as far as his face did. Grisha… Weapons master. If they are being punished, then it can mean only one thing.

“Shut your trap, brat! You need ta learn yer place and learn when to shut up! Get on over there and to work! Those arrows ain’t gonna feather ‘emselves!” With an “encouraging” shove, Zog and Pushkrimp are sent nearly flat on their asses. Defeat was so clear on their faces, the others in their camp didn’t have to ask to know what kind of punishment they were destined for on the long walk to the impromptu forge their weapons master had set up.

They didn’t even need to announce themselves. It would seem that word had reached Grisha before the lads did, as he was already standing there, waiting silently and impatiently. Zog wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug grin off of his face, but even he knew when to shut up and take it, and now was the time to accept the punishment with what little grace he had left. No words were exchanged as the two Feral lads settled into their work, the piles upon piles of featherless arrows already making their fingers chaffe and their joints ache. It didn’t take long for the two of them to become restless in their extraordinary dull task. Legs jumping, feet tapping, bodies shifting and huffing every other breath. Soon, boredom took over, and both Zog and Pushkrimp began to whisper amongst themselves.

“Where do ya always go, Zog?”

“Hnn?” Zog was barely conscious at this point. His movements were almost innate, as involuntary as breathing at this point. He hates feathering arrows, and he swears to the Dark Flame that he’ll never pick up a bow for as long as he lives.

“All the time, ya just… disappear. Where ya goin’?” Pushkrimp isn’t even fletching, anymore. Rather, he is just idly fiddling with the oily black feathers in between his thumb and forefinger,worrying a few stray tufts with the tips of his nails. Zog blinks a few times before tossing another finished arrow into the pile, sitting upright and turning to his mate.

“Eh, nowhere? Just… going out, ‘suppose…” He shrugs, nudging a few stray arrows away with the tip of his foot. Pushkrimp allows the feather to fall to the ground and watches it shift in the subtle breeze.

“Yeah, right. Yer doin’ somethin’ you ain’t supposed to do, ain’t ya?” Zog rolls his eyes, unfolding his stiff legs with an audible pop! Ever the perceptive one, isn’t he…?

“Nah, ain’t doin’ nothin’. Why do you care, anyways? Ain’t ya tired of gettin’ them on yer arse?” Pushkrimp barks out a sudden laugh, followed by Grisha yelling at them to get back to work, ya stupid globs! After a few moments of tense silence, they continued their conversation, albeit much quieter than before.

“…Nah, nah, ain’t like that, Zog. I don’t mind pissin’ the older lads off with ya ‘er whatever. Just- Dunno… wanderin’ where ya goin’ all the time, ‘s all.” Zog pauses thoughtfully.

Really, a part of him didn’t want to admit what he’s been doing in all of his spare time, but… It’s Pushkrimp. They tell everything to one another, and there’s no way that he could possibly keep this to himself. Especially when that sod is involved… They haven’t taken the oaths yet, but really, Zog sees the uruk as a brother. A blood brother… He wondered if the larger uruk felt as strongly as he did, but Zog wouldn’t dare ask such a question aloud. Sure, Pushkrimp has called him his brother before, but… they were litter mates. What if he saw it all wrong…? Before Zog realized it, he was already chewing on his crooked claws, picking at his teeth and feeling the strain it places on his jaw when he clamps down and rolls the nail in between his fangs.

“Hmmph… I’ll tell ya, but-!” Zog removes his saliva coated finger from his mouth and points it at his mate. “-ya keep your trap shut, got it?” Pushkrimp sits upright, excitedly kicking his legs out as he nods repeatedly, that stupid, toothy smirk of his plastard on his face. Anxiously checking that Grisha wasn’t watching them slack off, Zog scoots closer to Pushkrimp, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and cupping his hand near his mouth.

“Been tryin’ ta learn readin’ ‘n writin’-” Pushkrimp gasps loudly and turn to face Zog, nose nearly brushing his own.

“You leanin’ WHA- MMHPHM?!” Zog hisses in between his teeth and firmly clamps a hand over Pushkrimp’s mouth. The other uruk’s eyes have a mischievous glint in them, one that Zog knew all too well and knew that would lead to nothing but trouble. And they both certainly liked trouble…

“Shhhhh-!! Shut yer fat gob!!! Dimwit…!” Zog snarls under his breath. Pushkrimp giggles and snorts from behind his hand, grabbing ahold of Zog’s thin wrist and wrenching his palm away from his smirking face.

“Dimwit, eh…?” Zog’s face flashes with a mixture of embarrassment and anger, and he shoves his mate away, though the action has very little bite to it, and the other allows himself to fall to his side, giggling all the while.

“I said ‘keep yer trap shut’ ya bastard!” Zog picks up an arrow and starts poking Pushkrimp on his exposed shins, nowhere near hard enough to actually hurt. Between all the giggling and soft swearing, Grisha’s attention is gained and the older uruk chucks a hunk of slate at them yelling at them to shut the fuck up and get back to it!

They continued to discreetly talk as they feathered the remaining arrows, making sure to not garner any additional attention lest they get pegged in the head with a rock, or other heavy object. That Grisha may seem like he’s a bit slow, but damn does he have a good throwing arm from his time as a hunter. Pushkrimp repeatedly prodded Zog about him teaching himself to read and write. How’d ya do it? What’s it look like? Can ya show me sometime?! He was always eager to get involved in whatever Zog was already nose deep in, and really, having a partner in this probably wouldn’t hurt, right? This glob has always been by Zog’s side, and that certainly wouldn’t change simply because Zog was doing something rather… bizarre for a member of his tribe to be doing. It’s never stopped them before, and it surely won’t stop them now, or anytime in the near or distant future.

Life in Gorgoroth was certainly difficult, dangerous, even, but it could also be mundane. It’s far too easy to become complacent in the day to day struggle to survive, but somehow they all make due in their own ways. Life ends as suddenly as it starts in Mordor, making it far too easy to forget the little things that make life worth living. Bonds are fickle things to form, and normally far too brittle to withstand the hardships of this land. Unless they are truly unique, formed by extraordinary uruks in equally unique circumstances. They are rare things, but they are sacred, coveted, treasured. They are things that even the most battle hardened and calloused uruk can’t help but to dream of achieving. Having another at your back, to truly have another to protect you and care for you when you are both at your strongest and your weakest? Those that have that don’t understand how lucky they are, not fully. Not until it’s all taken away one day and they are left with nothing but a hurt and a longing that will never heal, not for the rest of their miserable existence.

Zog wouldn’t let that be his and Pushkrimp’s fate. No matter how many times he combed through all the possibilities that his life could take, he couldn’t see one without Pushkrimp by his side. Maybe things would change with time. Maybe, but Zog desperately prays that it won’t be so. He needs his mate at his back. He needs his support, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that he’s stronger than he truly is. Things will be okay. Things will change, but this won’t. They’ll always have each other’s back, no matter what. No matter what…

@sinick, @elvenmoans, @boozy-dwarf

#middle earth shadow of mordor #middle earth shadow of war #shadow of war #zog the eternal #urukhai #orc culture #early life #uruk ocs

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holylulusworld · 3 years

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Count Cock - Kinktober 13

Summary: Count Cock wants more than hear your voice...

Pairing: PornActor!Dean Winchester x VoiceActress!Reader

Characters: Bela Talbot, Jo Harvelle

Warnings: dirty talk, smut, unprotected sex, hair pulling (please be careful and only do this wiht an experienced partner to avoid injuries), Dean’s deep voice, auralism, creampie, a hint of fluff, there could be a tiny hint of dub-con (not sure about it, just in case), fingering, spanking

Kinktober Special: Auralism is a sexual fetish defined as sexual arousal or excitement caused by sound, to be compared with voyeurism. This sound might be music, a voice, the actual sounds of sex itself, or other sounds, and may include enjoyment from listening to others having sex. (Source: urbandictionary)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Kinktober 2021

“You will voice over Count Cock’s next movie,” your boss pushes the script into your hand before she storms off, leaving you stunned and panting.

“Whoa, she let you voice over one of his movies. That’s so awesome,” Bela swoons, dreamily looking at the script in your hands. “You know, he does the voice-over on all of his movies, right? I wish he would work with me one day.”

“What? I—you mean Dean Smith will work with me,” voice a little too high you feel your legs give in. There is no way in hell you will stay calm next to the main act of your wet dreams.

“Fuck, he usually chooses the girls he films with,” Jo chirps, patting your back. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Dean is a cool guy outside the set. Just let him lead you through this. He will have most of the dialogue. You only have to moan and whimper a little.”

“I did this before Jo but he’s so—” you bite your tongue, not wanting your colleagues to know about your secret kink. “Uh—I got this, Jo.”

“That’s the spirit,” you giggle, knowing Bela and Jo tried to calm you. “Now go in there and let Dean fuck the life out of you…uh-erm. I mean pretend he does so while moaning into the microphone.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Hi,” you squeak seeing Dean sit on one of the armchairs at the studio. “I’m Y/N and your partner for the voice-over today.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he slowly gets up to stalk toward you. “I asked Amara to give you the assignment for the voice-over. I listened to your work lately and I must admit,” he steps into your personal space to look down at you, “I liked it very much. Most of the girls I fuck on screen can’t even get a squeak out when I am inside their tight little cunts.”

You are taken aback by his crudeness. “Uh—thank you, I guess. I didn’t think the actors would ever listen to a voice-over,” you bite your tongue while glancing up at Dean, your favorite porn actor.

It’s not only his body or the smirk he gives every partner, or his piercing green eyes. No. – What turns you on the most is his deep and rough voice and the way he uses it to seduce every woman in his movies.

“You see,” his eyes drop to your legs before they make their way back up to your face again. Dean roams every curve with his eyes, humming to himself, and you wonder if he hates what he sees. “I want you to be the voice-over actress for all my other movies.”

“But—” you gasp. This is like a dream coming true; the man haunting your wet dreams wants you to voice over his movies.

“Say yes, sweetheart,” he purrs the pet name in your ear, chuckling when a whimper escapes your lips. His voice goes straight to your core, and you can’t stop your pussy from clenching around nothing. “Come on, I know you want to.”

“I—I don’t know,” the tip of his nose brushes over your cheek, makes you shiver while his deep voice rumbles against you.

“Y/N, I asked you nicely,” oh, God. He just ruined another pair of panties. You can feel the soaked fabric against your sex, wishing you could slip your hand inside to take care of the problem Dean caused. “Now be a good girl and do as I say.

“Y-yes, Sir,” you choke out, breath hitching in your throat when he dips his head to press a soft kiss to your neck. “W-hen do we start?”

“Patience, baby girl,” his lips linger on your skin, force another whimper to leave your throat. “We have all night, Y/N. Now that I finally have a face and body matching your voice, I’ll take full advantage of it.”

“Oh—I,” you frown, finally realizing there is no one else at the studio today. “Where are the others? I—I mean…”

“This is not an orgy,” he chuckles, hands moving to your waistline, squeezing hard. “We can talk about bringing someone else in another time. For now, you are all mine. I want to hear every moan, scream, and whimper tonight.”

“I always follow the script,” while you glance at the script in your hand, Dean moves his hands to your ass, groping it roughly. “Mr. Smith!”

“Dean,” his deep voice fills your senses, makes you weak in the knees and your brain turns to mush. “You can call me Dean or Sir, whatever makes you wetter for me.”

“I—what?” his face so close you can feel his breath on your skin he smirks at you. “Dean, what’s going on here? I don’t understand—I don’t…”

“I guess no one told you that—,” now his lips crash against yours and you end up pressed into the wall. His arms sling around your waistline, to bring you close to his heated body, “I choose my partner for my next movie. No one tells me whom I’ll fuck next so, I chose you for my next movie.”

“I’m not an actress and I don't want to become a porn star! This job pays well but I don’t want anyone to know about it. What do you think will happen if my mom sees my pussy on screen?”

“Your mom watches porn?” he gives you a dirty grin. “I knew you are a dirty girl. All the noises you made, moans, slurps, the way you cried out my name. Fuck, I imagined having you around my dick for weeks.”

“I don’t want to get filmed while having sex! That’s a hard limit,” you gasp at your outburst, but Dean’s grin only widens. “What?”

“Fine, no one will watch us then, my dirty girl. I’ll fuck you for fun right now,” he lowers his voice once again and you can’t fight the whine bubble up your throat. “I know you love my voice, sweetheart. How about we forget about the voice-over, I’ll take you with me and bend you over any surface at my house?”

“I—I can’t, Mr. Smith…Dean…Count c—” heat rises in your cheeks when he moves one hand between your legs to run his fingers up and down your soaked panties.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t ask you,” he licks your cheek. “I gave you an order and expect you to follow it.” A choked-out sob leaves your lips. You grip his biceps. Your lips part, and you can’t stop it, you cum untouched as he whispers your name in your ear. “Good girl, so good for me. Now let’s bring you home and fuck you thoroughly…”

Tonight you don’t have to fake moans or that Dean is inside your soaked cunt. Tonight you listen to him grunt and cuss anytime he slides back inside of your warmth.

“Fuck, that’s a good pussy,” he moans your name, while the sound of his voice goes straight to your core. Your pussy flutters around his thick shaft and you hate to admit it, but it’s the hottest thing ever happening to you when he slaps your ass harshly to keep you from coming again. “No coming before I tell you so, Y/N.”

“Yes, Sir,” your breath skits out. “I’ll be good for you…always.”

“Hear this?” the sound of your wetness, skin-on-skin slapping, and his voice, this fucking deep voice fills your senses. “You’re so fucking wet I can hear you drip onto my balls.”

He speeds up, rams into you from behind as if he wants to break your body or lay claim on every part of you. “Please.”

“Fucking hold it,” Dean grits out while slamming his hips into your ass. Slick runs down your thighs soak the sheets beneath you but the man taking you apart couldn’t care less. “Now, let’s fuck in earnest.”

One hand holds your hips in a tight grip, leaving bruises without a doubt while the other fists your hair, tugging harshly. “Dean—please.”

“You need my voice to get off, dirty girl? Do you want me to tell you how good your tight little hole feels around me? That I’m ready to shoot my load into your pussy and never let you go. Oh, yeah.” He jerks his hips, cock hitting that spot letting your vision white out. “Say it!”

“Your voice drives me crazy and I’m dripping for you, Sir,” you fall hard, whole-body shuddering through your orgasm. “Please cum inside of me…”

“See, that’s a good girl,” Dean groans deeply, allows himself to let go. “Good thing I can hold back, huh? I made this naughty cunt cum five times before I had my fill.” His hips stutter and you moan deeply feeling his cum fill you to the brim. “Don’t worry, I will keep this pussy…”

“This was my last movie,” Dean explains, showing you the movie, you should’ve worked on, instead of fucking the main act. “Literally. Lisa and I broke up and she didn’t want to film with me ever again. I think it’s time to retire.”

“Wait, all the girls you fucked were your girlfriends?” you roll onto your side to face Dean.

“Girlfriends, a friend with benefits…random girls I picked at a bar and would’ve fucked,” he shrugs. “Now that I rammed my teeth into your cute ass, I’d like to fuck without a camera for once…”

“Hmm…what will you do now?” he runs one hand over your ass, squeezes hard before he slaps it. “Dean?”

“Count cock retires, but Dean Winchester just bought the whole company. I think Sammy and I will produce high-class porn from now on. You know, something a woman would like to watch too,” he explains. “Maybe you can help me. Tell me what you like.”

“Your voice…”

“Of course, sweetheart. Now, lemme tell you about my plans and if you get wet while listening, I’ll fuck the neediness out of you later…”

Tags in reblog.

#Count Cock #dean winchester #pornstar!au #pornactor!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #kinktober 2021 #kinktober day 13 #smut #dean Winchester au

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iwaasfairy · 3 years

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I put three asks in the same post because it’s all about the pet girls but thank you so much for your messages and enjoy mwuah

Includes: Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Suna

@black-jackalsbabie asked: Pls provide me with some lamb girl content wiht whoever you choose. pls I’m starving as one of the few members of the lamb girl club🥺💕

tw oikawa + lamb girl, master, aurilism, corruption, choking

“How long have you been thinking of this, hm?” he asks, pressing his fingers into the sides of your neck. It feels so good, makes the world tilt a little and has your slick pussy clenching around him. “Innocent, little lamb my ass, look how much your pussy’s drooling on my cock.” The slow drawl of his hips making you mewl, dragging along your tight walls on the way out. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Yes, feels -hng- so good,” you cock your head back and shudder when he pushes back inside, snapping his hips harder. The wet slapping of skin meeting skin. “Tooru, you feel so big inside. Ah, ah- thank you for your cock,” throat being squeezed closed a bit tighter, rhythm growing impatient as he drills his cock into your soft walls, “love it, love it so m-much.”

He lifts your thighs to your chest, squishing them into you as he leans his weight onto you and holding onto your knee for leverage, as the other comes to your face to rub his thumb over your swollen lips. He slides back in with a grunt, and stares down at the way your eyes are shut tight when he ruts the head of his cock into your pussy. “Look at how much you love your master’s cock. Been waiting for this since the beginning, huh. My filthy pet.”

Anonymous asked: iwa + puppy girl lives rent free in my head

tw iwaizumi + puppy girl, daddy, voyeurism, degradation

His fingers tap your sensitive spot a few times, before he slides them down more, allowing you to rock yourself onto them so easily. Even with your panties in the way he can feel how drenched they’ve become from just a few minutes of longing, your thighs rubbing together so desperately it was almost making you look pitiful. “Daddy, more. Please,” you whisper though, and he sends you a little look, before leaning his chin onto your shoulder.

“What did I say, you whiny bitch,” he mumbles against your neck, slipping his fingers under the crotch of your panties and pushing them aside. “What did I say just two minutes ago?”

“‘S good, want -mhm- more, deeper.” His other hand is already up to tilt your face towards him as you’re pushed down in his lap. Forcing two fingers into your greedy pussy from the start and moaning at the way he curls them into you. So tight but so good, your slick dripping down them as you grind your hips back into him. Your lips parted and eyes fluttering with your feet planted either side of his legs on the couch.

When you only give him more incoherent babbling, he growls. “Pup, shut it up, you’re going to wake Makki.” Not that he'd mind the view, passed out on the opposite couch as you let Hajime fuck you on his fingers, thumb circling your clit again and again. “Try me again and daddy’s not giving you any of his cum. Leave this poor cunt completely empty.”

Anonymous asked: omggg do u have any more of suna with a foxgirl bc ur right he has such brat tamer vibes aaaaaaaaa 😭🥴😩👉🏼👈🏼

tw suna + fox girl, daddy dom rin, degradation, spanking

You’re bent over the sink, hair pulled tight as you whimper. “Think it’s still funny? Think it’s still fucking funny, slut?” His other hand making quick work of shoving your skirt up and panties down, exposing your leaking cunny. The club bathroom’s red lights dousing you both, sweat still rolling down his temple. He doesn’t give you the time to prepare yourself before his long fingers are gliding inside you and ruthlessly stretch you out, walls clenching around them. “You’re mine. My dumb fox slut.”

The tug of your head into an arched back is painful but so good, his hard motions still so calculated and pleasurable inside you. You’re already dripping from earlier. “Rin, why are you mad?” you attempt to grin, but he stuffs his fingers inside again so well that your mouth drops open and a strangled whimper comes out.

“Try again.” He pulls his fingers out of you to rub your clit, before spanking your ass, hard. So hard your hip bones hit the sink and you squeak out his name. “Try again, pretty cub, or I won’t fuck you.”

“Fine, fine,” you cry when he starts unbuckling his belt, “I’m sorry, daddy.”

#🍯honey.pot #tw.aurilism #tw.corruption #tw.voyeurism #tw.spanking #tw.harddom #tw.degradation #💫ch.oikawa #💫ch.iwaizumi #💫ch.suna #💒lamb.pet #💒puppy.pet #💒fox.pet

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mara-xx217 · 2 years

Text

Shadow of War- The Stains of the Souls Remain Forevermore: Ch. 1 The Mundane of Daily Life

This is a fic exploring Zog the Eternal's early life. Just something I'm feeling out atm, all with the help of the wonderful @space-arsonist! I hope you enjoy!

Dark skies, choked with smogh and ash

Ground blackened wiht with by the fires of Dho Doh Do

“Psst! Zog! Ya over ‘ere?”

“Boss is pissed at ya.”

When isn’t that glob pissed at something or another? Before Zog could show his disinterest, Pushkrimp quickly quipped,

“‘e wants ta see ya.” Zog’s head snaps in his direction, and he angrily stands as his mate gives him an amused smirk. Like he’s some sort of new pup fresh out of the vats…!

“Why didn’t ya just say that ta begin with?! Dim glob!” He shoves him out of the way and Pushkrimp giggles and snorts like it’s actually funny, or something.

“YOU! DIMWIT! ‘ERE! NOW!”

“BOTH OF YOU!”

“...Well?” His arms are crossed, and he is staring at Zog expectantly. The young trickster does his best to look unphased by his scalding glare.

“...don’t know what ya talkin’ ‘bout- OW!” Claws graze past Zog’s scalp and nearly ripped out an entire fistful of coppery hair. Zog just barely manages to both untangle the slender, spider-like fingers from his hair and swat away any attempts to repeatedly smack him on the back of the head.

“You lads clearly have too much time on yer hands! Guess that means that ya wouldn’t mind helpin’ ole Grisha, would you?”

Oh no.

“Where do ya always go, Zog?”

“Yeah, right. Yer doin’ somethin’ you ain’t supposed to do, ain’t ya?” Zog rolls his eyes, unfolding his stiff legs with an audible pop! Ever the perceptive one, isn’t he…?

“...Nah, nah, ain’t like that, Zog. I don’t mind pissin’ the older lads off with ya ‘er whatever. Just- Dunno… wanderin’ where ya goin’ all the time, ‘s all.” Zog pauses thoughtfully.

“Been tryin’ ta learn readin’ ‘n writin’-” Pushkrimp gasps loudly and turn to face Zog, nose nearly brushing his own.

Zog wouldn’t let that be his and Pushkrimp's fate. No matter how many times he combed through all the possibilities that his life could take, he couldn’t see one without Pushkrimp by his side. Maybe things would change with time. Maybe, but Zog desperately prays that it won’t be so. He needs his mate at his back. He needs his support, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that he’s stronger than he truly is. Things will be okay. Things will change, but this won’t. They’ll always have each other’s back, no matter what. No matter what…

#middle earth shadow of mordor #middle earth shadow of war #zog the eternal #uruk hai #massive fic #uruk ocs #uruk culture

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

Welp, this fic i thought i wasn’t even going to continue is now longer at 17 chapters than War in Hermittown which was 26 chapters. And I’m not done here yet! (WiHT ended with 56,719 words. SF was at 55,597 last chapter, and this one is over 3k words, putting it to at least 58k total)

tagging time! @petrichormeraki and @helleborusangel are you guys proud of me?

Xannes and Tommy turned their weapons on Theseus. “How’d you find this place bitch?” The hels copy just rolled his eyes before gesturing over to Dream. “What, you were tracking him?”

“He’s an admin using a console. Find the console, find the admin.” Theseus replied, which confused Tommy. “Right, you wouldn’t know about that, would you.”

Tommy glanced back to Xannes. “Any clue what he’s talking about?”

“Yes. Before command blocks, datapacks, plugins and autofill commands, a lot of admins would default to consoles. These days most people tend to ignore them, but there are some benefits. Though the negatives usually make it seem like the worst option.”

“Why’s that?”

“Admins have better control over everything else. A console is more powerful and capable of much more, but it’s disconnected from the admin. It tends to be stationary in the world and needs to be hidden, and while there are ways to make them moveable, it’s usually not worth the hassle.”

Theseus smiled. “Oh look who’s not as much of an idiot as they seem. Another question then. Why are you still getting in the way? You want those scraps of metal? Take them. He’s the one I’m after.” And he pointed at Dream.

“You haven’t fucking told us why though.” Tommy crossed his arms.

“You didn’t really need to know.” Theseus said before sighing and taking off his mask. “But if that’s the only thing that’ll make you let me through, fine. Nightmare’s dead in my world. I killed him myself. Used up his three lives.”

“You guys still have the three lives system? I thought everything in hels was… y’know, worse?” Tommy asked.

“Oh it is. Exactly why I want Nightmare back.”

There was silence save for the continued sound of weapons banging off each other. “You… you want to what?”

Theseus shrugged. “The bitch never really got what was coming to him. Sure it’s the NSMP, and it’s technically named after him, but his name is based on a concept. He’s not the one in charge, he just made a place where nightmares can become reality. He just never got that chance because he’s dead. And with how hels works, he can’t come back. That is… unless I can bring Dream back with me.”

“That seems like the worst idea I’ve ever heard.” Xannes spoke up. “There’s no guarantee how that will work, especially since he was an admin. You’re setting yourself up for a disaster for both your world and this one.”

“And so what? I die? If I can’t do this right, why bother sticking around.”

“Then I might die too bitch!” Tommy yelled at his copy. “And I definitely don’t want to go out just like that.”

“Plus there are other people linked here.” Xannes spoke, pulling up commands. “Now, you’re going to want to stop, or I’m going to have to attack.”

“Oh please, what can you do?”

“My brother is known as the best admin of all time. Which meant I needed to be the best hacker.” Xannes smiled behind his mask. “And with Prof and NPG around, I haven’t gotten to try anything out in a while, so I’m going to really enjoy this.”

Tommy could almost feel the danger that was Xannes before he moved. He swung his sword once, and even though Theseus was more than ten blocks away, it was like the blade had hit him. He then pulled out a crossbow along with his sword, managing to duel wield the weapons. And then even though the second weapon kept being fired, it seemed to always be filled with ammo, not giving Theseus any rest from attacks, not to mention the fact that it was also multishot.

Tommy used that as a chance to run over to the bots. “Alright you two, I don’t care what the fuck’s been going on with you two, you need to fucking stop before you kill each other.”

“He deserves to die!” Jrum shouted, not looking away from his brother.

“Jrum, I’ve told you about the guy that kinda isolated and manipulated me? The one Big G compared to Sam?”

“Yeah, and Grum’s just as bad!” Jrum said before attempting to attack again, instead just getting pulled back by Tommy.

“No! No he isn’t! That guy Grum’s been stuck with? That green bitch right there? That’s the fucker who was messing with me! And now he’s been doing it to Grum.”

“Yeah right.” Jrum crossed his arms, and Tommy slapped the back of his head, wincing as pain coursed through his body from damaging the vines. It caused the teen to flinch back, making the bottles in his inventory clank together.

Hearing the bottles made Tommy remember what he had on him. He had no clue how well the water worked, but right now it was better than nothing. He pulled them out and smashed them on top of Jrum’s head like a water balloon, the water covering Jrum and getting into his mechanics. It caused a short circuit and it seemed to fry the vines from within, but also Jrum. As the circuitry within him sparked, it damaged the vines, causing even more damage to Jrum, until it killed him.

“NO! JRUM!” Tommy yelled, freaking out about having just killed someone in his family. Beside him, Grum just stared at the place where Jrum had been standing a minute ago, the body having dissolved into smoke.

Life Counter active. Entity Check Jrumbot. Death: canon. Life counter: 1 life remaining. Commence respawn. Respawn complete.

Teleport Requested. Assessing. Assessing. Allowing Teleport. Entity Jrumbot Teleported to Deathpoint coordinates.

Just like that, Jrumbot reappeared. He wasn’t completely covered with the vines, but he still retained the single vine around his antenna and his screen was still a red color. “Oh thank goodness, I thought you might have had a single life left.”

“Well now I do, no thanks to you!”

When Tommy had yelled, Xannes looked away from his fight. Theseus was able to finally close the distance and attack Xannes without the helsmit protecting himself, but he didn’t need to, the hacks keeping him from taking damage. “He’s using a console…”

Theseus tried attacking Xannes again. “Yeah, we covered that already. Why’s it soooo surprising now?”

“Because the console is Grum.”

That made Theseus scoff. “Wasn’t it obvious? It’s a computer that’s always near Dream. It’s essentially a console with fewer drawbacks. Even more powerful than a regular console too.”

When Theseus said that, Tommy turned his anger on Dream. “Ohhh, I can’t fucking believe you. I mean, that is an absolute child. At least with me, I was older, practically an adult, but he hasn’t even had a birthday and you decided to mess with him! As if you didn’t have a death wish already! I mean, guess that’s why you got everyone blocked. What if I just asked Grum to unblock everyone, what then?”

“And what? Just let Phil and Techno back in? What would that help with?”

“Oh please, you know their dad would be the first one in. Doesn’t that scare you?” Tommy asked with a smirk, though it fell in a few moments. “Wait do you actually not know who their dad is?”

“Just because he’s supposed to be another one of your brothers doesn’t mean anything. They’re hardly something I can’t deal with.”

“Can’t deal wi- Dream! Their dad is Grian! You know, the guy who literally has the name Dreamslayer? Like that’s part of his legal name at this point.” Tommy could tell when it got through to Dream, because he pressed back in his invisible prison just a bit and started looking for some possible way out.

He ended up snapping his fingers at Grum. “Hey, get me out of here.” And then Grum processed the information and teleported Dream a couple blocks to his left, freeing him from the barrier blocks.

“Oh shit. Xannes! He got o-” Was all Tommy was able to say before he was pressed against a wall, feet no longer touching the ground and him left struggling for air.

“You know, I could kill you right here. It would be easy. But for all I know, you come back as a ghost. So I’ve got a better idea. Just to make sure that if you do come back, it hurts even more. Grumbot?” He looked over at the robot, who immediately made its way over to Dream’s side. He handed it a netherite axe with the word ‘Nightmare’ etched into the metal.

“No, c-come on Grum. You c-can’t do th-this.” Tommy did his best to get the words out. “Pl-Please… c-can you l-let everyone in a-at least.”

“Oh come on. He’s loyal to me. Why would you think-”

“That command is protected and requires a password to access.”

For a moment, Tommy lost all hope, but in a moment of clarity, he realized that Dream didn’t know Grum would say anything. If that were the case, there wouldn’t be a password. Yeah, Tommy could be wrong, but there was still a chance. “M-Mumbo for Mayor…” He choked out, and immediately Grumbot started processing the password, then accepted it.

“Blacklist disabled.”

“Kill Tommy!” Dream yelled in anger. And then Tommy was hit by the axe. Once. Twice. And then a third and final time.

Life Counter active. Entity Check TommyInnit. Death: canon. Life counter: no lives remaining. No respawn applicable.

No.

Commencing Respawn. Respawn complete.

Teleport Requested. Assessing. Assessing. Allowing Teleport. Entity Tommy Teleported to Coordinates X-3, Y-3, Z-3. Returning inventory contents.

Tommy was holding his chest, panting to catch his breath. He was so sure he was dead. But no. Here he was, away from Dream and still with all his gear. That had probably been Xannes saving him, and healing him as well based on his current level of health.

For a moment, Tommy wanted to rush back in there, but then he remembered. The blacklist had been disabled. People could get in. He pulled out the communicator and sent a message to Grian, hoping it wouldn’t take too long. Then he put it away and tried to go back over to the bots, but his legs were shaky, and in just trying to take one step, he fell to the floor.

Even though he wasn’t close to death, he could still feel himself fading while at the same time it felt like everything was happening at once. Every sound seemed louder, what little breeze there was felt like pins and needles. And he just felt tired. As his vision went in and out, he saw Jrum rush off. Then Theseus stopped fighting and went after Dream. Then the three of them were gone. Then he was up in the air, something picking him up.

Finally, he felt the buzz of his communicator, and everything went dark.

The moment Grian got the message from Tommy, Grian made a Watcher portal straight to the SMP. The others nearby were slightly surprised that it was to let them follow along, but they weren’t arguing. Tubbo was the first to go through, Phil and Techno following behind. Grian was about to be right behind them, but was stopped by a hand. “You’re not keeping me from going Mumbo.”

“I know that. I wasn’t going to.” The redstoner spoke before taking Grian’s hand. “You’re the one always jumping into things, and that’s mostly a good thing. But this is something I don’t want to be left out of, so whether you like it or not, I’m coming with.”

“What? Did you think I was going to leave you behind? I wasn’t going to close the portal behind me. I was hoping you would come too, I was just letting you decide.”

“Good. ...So, do we want to…?” Mumbo started to say before he was yanked towards the portal as Grian ran through it, dragging him along.

When they arrived on the other side, Phil was the only one nearby, sitting down next to the portal. “Hey. Before you ask, I volunteered to wait while the other two went off in their own directions. That was only a few minutes ago. Haven’t heard anything back from them.”

Grian nodded. “I’m going to try contacting Tommy. Mumbo, those coordinates Tommy forwarded to me before? Can you check them out?”

“Definitely.” Mumbo nodded, pulling out his own communicator and checking the coordinates and which was to go to reach them.

“I’ll see if I can find anyone who could give us information.” Phil offered before immediately leaving, leaving Grian alone.

Alright, if I were one of the kids or Tommy… where would I be?” Grian asked himself, looking around before spotting something red in the distance. “Oh hello there. What’s that?” He quickly got into the air, flying over instead of trying to cross the rough terrain. “Tommy did send something about Jrum and red plants, didn’t he?” Grian bent down to try and touch the stuff, but was surprised when it seemed to move away.

A voice spoke and then Grian was left looking around, trying to spot who had spoken. “What do you mean don’t touch it? I’m trying to find my kid and the best lead I have right now are these things.” Then he was left looking around again. “Oh, if that’s the case, then why not ditch the invisibility potion and meet me face to face?” Another short bout of silence and then Grian growled slightly, clenching his fists. “Then maybe I will.” And he started following the moving plants, the vines moving to almost create a path as they parted near him.

They snaked into an underground room and then down a thin tunnel. Grian had a little trouble getting through with his wings, not wanting to shift them away in case he ended up needing them suddenly. When he finally reached the end, he was greeted by what was obviously two teams of people fighting. One group was all in purples meanwhile the other group had a mix of colors, but there were a lot of reds and whites.

When it didn’t look like anyone noticed him, Grian moved forward a bit, cleared his throat, and then shouted. “HEY!” Immediately everyone froze and looked over at him. “Excuse me, I’m sure you’re having a lovely war and all, but I’m looking for my kids. The two of them are about… these heights and are adorable little robots.”

“Are you saying you’re one of Jrum’s parents?” Someone in a black and white cloak said, and Grian nodded at them.

“Yeah. Is he here? Or do you at least know where he is?” Grian asked, before the person attempted to attack him. Immediately his wings moved to act as a quick shield. “I’m guessing that’s a yes, but you don’t want me around.” Grian pulled out his sword. “Eh, I was expecting an ambush anyway.”

But before another attack could happen, the voice from before spoke, seemingly to the cloaked person. “So what?! He abandoned his kid! If that were true he would have shown up!”

“Hey, I tried getting in. Your admin just found a way to keep me out until now. Now, are you going to listen to your friend and tell me where Jrum is, or are you going to fight?”

The incoming sword worked as the answer to Grian’s question and he blocked it with a shield before attacking back. The person tried moving behind some vines hanging from the ceiling, but Grian just sliced them to the ground, clearing the area. “Wait, how are you doing that?!” The person asked before Grian flew up to bash their head with the end of his shield and knock them to the ground.

“Nooo! What are you doing!” A voice yelled out and Grian turned around to see a familiar robot running over.

“Jrum!” Grian landed, arms open for a hug, but he just pushed past his dad to run to the person now on the ground. “Wh-what?”

“Are you okay?”

“Nggh… yeah. Wait, now where have you been?”

“I got kidnapped and Grum was there and he attacked me! But now I’m fine!”

Grian looked between his son and the person he had been attacking. He had no clue why this was happening, so he looked over as some of the other people nearby, who weren’t sure how to answer him. “Oh come on, no one had any idea?” And then the invisible person spoke. “I mean I guess? He was built before the turf war, but he didn’t really take part in it. Why? Look, I just want to get my kid and leave. My resistance days are pretty much over.”

There was quiet before Grian sighed and his wings shifted away. “Fine, I’ll play along, but you better hold up your end.” And when he opened his eyes, they weren’t their normal color, nor even just bright purple from using his watcher powers. Instead, his iris and pupils seemed to be missing, replaced by grayish-purple sclera.

“Well at the very least it was a house.” Xannes grumbled as he attempted to brush off the layer of dust on the bed sitting in the corner for him to then put Tommy on. It was tough with him having to carry the unconscious teen and only really about to use a leg as a duster, which was just spreading the dust around. “Can this be any harder?!”

A door opening behind him made the helsmit groan. “That’s wasn’t a fucking request! What the fuck do you-” He turned around and saw someone familiar and thankfully wearing a red tie. “Fine. This works. You take the kid.”

Mumbo was handed Tommy and Xannes finally was able to just pick the covers up off the bed and shake them off. It left Mumbo coughing and Xannes instantly regretting it as an alert on his screen warned him about his filters, but he put the blankets back down. The redstoner set Tommy down on the bed while Xannes worked on cleaning out the dust that was now in his helmet. “What happened to him?”

“He got killed, but respawn brought him back. It didn’t seem to be the best respawn because it hit hard. From what I can tell, he wasn’t supposed to. Is this a hardcore world?”

Mumbo shook his head. “Tommy said something about them having three lives, but they only counted if they were important.”

“So he essentially just got revived instead of normally respawning. That would explain it. You should have seen the three that got revived this season.”

“That’s right, you permakill someone if they don’t return for a season, don’t you.”

“Yeah. Of course they can still exist elsewhere, but it's a type of ban in a way.”

Mumbo nodded before finally looking away from Tommy and over to Xannes. “H-Have you seen either of the boys?”

“Yes, though they’re not doing so well. You know what a console is, right?”

“Yeah.” Mumbo nodded again. “I had to use one when I was first starting out so I didn’t break everything when working with redstone. Came in handy a few times, but I’m glad not using one anymore. Is there one being used here?”

“Yeah. The admin here decided to have fun with one since he found a way to make it mobile thanks to your redstone.”

“My red- wait!” Mumbo jumped up from kneeling on the floor next to the bed. “Are you telling me he’s using one of the boys?!”

“Yeah, Grumbot. He’s extremely out of it, but Tommy was able to get him to remove the blacklist and I’m pretty sure he’s the one who revived him, so it’s not a completely lost cause. Meanwhile the other one got infected with something like crimson nylium. I’m not sure how bad your land war went, but ours got out of hard fast.”

“We had a bit of trouble near the end, but the minigame battle near the end kept things from getting too far.”

“Well, hopefully it doesn’t end up like helscraft. Most of us ended up possessed by the different nyliums for a good portion of the war. And looks like Jrum is in the same situation.”

Alright, I’ll let the others know and hope Grian notices the message.”

“How many came along with the two of you?”

“Same group that we visited with. They came from here in the first place anyway, so they’ve got a better chance finding what we need.”

“Hello? Ranboo? Are you in here?” Tubbo asked, carefully stepping into the house. They had been planning to set up the second floor for Michael when he disappeared, so hopefully Ranboo would still be living there at least a little, unless he had taken the ziglin elsewhere.

The place was dark, all the windows closed and no torches or lanterns there to light the place up. It left Tubbo fumbling around, trying to feel his way around and wishing he had brought something for light. He tripped on something and fell to the ground, rubbing his head and hoping he hadn’t damaged anything. Then suddenly, something lit up, and Tubbo froze.

He had looked behind him to try and see if he could tell what had tripped him. He could barely make out the outline of a foot. Following up, it led up to a glowing screen with a smiley face plastered on it. Just behind that, Tubbo could also see two glowing magenta eyes from an enderman standing behind the robot.

Before Tubbo could ask any questions, a voice came from elsewhere in the dark room. “You know. As far as everyone knows, you're dead. How about we keep it that way?”

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dcbutinamrev · 3 years

Note

“I’m in love with you and it’s driving me crazy.” <- for halemadge please?

Of course bestie! Hehehe. Have some fluff for your souls-

~~~

Major Benjamin Tallmadge walks along the city streets in Connetiuct, having allowed a few days leave to visit a certain friend. He smiles softly at the thought of his dear Nathan before him, a wide smile on his face, his bright blue eyes dazzling underneath the sun. Tallmadge presses his lips together and hums to himself as he clutches onto the box with the silver necklace he had purchased for Hale as a gift. Nothing special, just a simple gift.

Tallmadge makes a right, tipping his head in greeting at passersby, some offering a salute. Tallmadge tries not to roll his eyes but smiles in return. After a few minutes, Tallmadge slows his pace as he sees the familiar brick house, tall evergreen trees surrounding the front yard. He breathes in slowly the familiar scent of nature before swinging the metal black gate open and walking up the marble stoned pathway towards the entrance.

Tallmadge stands before the porch for a moment, his eyes ticking towards one of the windows and the smallest quirk of his lips turn upward when he sees Hale through the front window, seated at the wooden table. You can do this, Tallmadge reminds himself.

He then marches up the steps, staring at the knock before him before lifting it and tapping it against the door once, twice, three times before taking a step back. Tallmadge doesn't understand why he feels hesitant, but he is.

He sees Hale yelp with surprise at the sudden knock, whipping his head around sharply towards the door. Tallmadge grins, however, when he makes eye contact with Hale in the window. He freezes, his eyes widening at Tallmadge's surprised apperance. Tallmadge, however, chuckles when he sees Hale's half-opened mouth click shut and forms into a cracked smile before rushing towards the front door and swinging it open.

"Ben..." Hale gasps, blinking his eyes.

Tallmadge nods and before he could utter a word, Hale flings his arms about Tallmadge's neck, his fingers instantly sliding up to Tallmadge's hair, breathing in the familiar scent.

"Ben..." Hale chokes, biting his lower lip. "Oh, Ben...my dear Ben..." He pulls back, blinking his now relieved tear filled eyes before cupping both of Tallmadge's cheeks, nearly squishing them. "Thank God..."

"Nate...my dear Nathan...oh...how I've missed you...and your presence...briging a light into my darkness..."

Hale chuckles, rolling his eyes before dragging Tallmadge inside. "Oh hush now, you. You're proably cold! Inside, now. I'll fix you some tea!"

The door slams shut behind Tallmadge. Tallmadge dusts some snow off his blue unifrom before yanking off his hat and tucking it under his arm. Hale drags him over towards a chair in the front parlor of his home before rushing over towards the kitchen, starting the kettle and yanking out a white mug from the cabinet.

"What in God's name are you doing all the way over here, Ben!" Hale scolds, glancing over his shoulder at Tallmadge accusingly almost.

Tallmadge grins, sitting himself up in his seat. "I asked General Washington if he could allow me a few days leave to visit you. I haven't seen you since I joined the army."

"Did you forget we both are?" Hale asks, raising an eyebrow as he now stands in front of the entranceway between the kitchen and front parlor, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. "I was the one who convinced you to join."

"Hm, yes..." Tallmadge agrees softly.

He stares into Hale's bright sky blue eyes, blinking. Tallmadge grins as he grips Hale's chin, his thumb tracing over his lower lip. Hale doesn't move.

"Ben..." Hale finally whispers. "What exactly are you doing here...?"

Tallmadge clears his throat and grasps both of Hale's smaller hands in his slightly larger ones. He gives them a squeeze and a little shake before continuing.

"Nathan..." Tallmadge whispers. Hale quirks an eyebrow. "You...You wanna know...a secret?"

"A secret?" Hale says, surprised.

Tallmadge nods. "Yes."

"I love secrets," he whispers, rising a hand up to rest beneath Tallmadge's jaw, his other hand clasped into the other.

Tallmadge grins, leaning closer until the tips of their noses touch, their lips only a breath apart yet their foreheads touch as well.

"Nathan..." Tallmadge whispers, gazing longingly into Hale's eyes. "I'm in love with you...and it's driving me crazy..."

Hale chuckles, blinking his eyes with disbelief. "You're in love with me, Tallboy?"

Tallmadge grins at the nickname, the very same one Brewster would call him. He nods. "I am..."

"Where's the proof?" Hale asks.

Tallmadge angles his face, leaning closer. "This..."

His lips latches onto Hale's instantly. Hale grunts, startled with surprise as he grips Tallmadge's wrist, as if trying to pull away but after a few moments, he lets himself go and melt into the kiss. Tallmadge hums, pressing his lips against Hale's as he slides his hands down Hale's forearms until he grips his elbows, Hale's hands cupping both of Tallmadge's jaws, their chests flushed together.

After a few more minutes have passed, Hale breaks the kiss slowly, not wanting to pull away. He giggles when his eyes lock with Tallmadge's gray-blue ones, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind the man's ears.

"I um....I have something for you, Nathan..." Tallmadge says, pulling back slightly.

Hale frowns, wondering what he means, but his eyes widen when he sees Tallmadge pull out a small, black box in the space between them.

"B-Ben...!" Hale gasps, obviously thinking he's going to propose, both hands flying up to his mouth to hide the strained gasp.

Tallmadge smiles as he slowly lifts the lid to reveal the silver necklace wiht a gold heart pendant. Even if it's not a diamond ring, Hale still feels shocked and touched at the small gift.

"Oh...Ben..." Hale whispers, blinking his eyes.

"The days we've been apart, Nathan," Tallmadge whispers, "are the days I could not stand. And I bet you could not either. I have no doubt you have worried constantly over my saftey, and my return to you. But this..." He gesutres at the jewel. "Donning this upon you will hopefully help bring you comfort that I am always with you. No matter how far apart we may be."

Tallmadge takes the necklace out from the box and unclips it. He loops it around Hale's neck for him, letting the gold heart dangle on his collarbone. Tallmadge nods with approval.

"There," he whispers.

"Can I tell you a secret too, Ben?" Hale whispers.

Tallmadge raises an eyebrow. "Of course..."

"I'm in love with you too..."

Tallmadge chuckles. "Where's the proof?"

"Here..." Hale breathes, standing on his toes, one arm around Tallmadge's neck while the other gripping Tallmadge's hand, leans up and kisses Tallmadge again.

About ten minutes later, Tallmadge is the one to break the kiss this time. He laughs dryly, nudging the tip of his nose against Hale's and presses his forehead agaisnt his too.

"Look at you," Hale whispers, brushing Tallmadge's cheek with the back of his knuckles. "My dear Benjmain...all done up in blue and gold..."

Tallmadge laughs, his heart fluttering when he meets Hale's bright blue eyes. His mind echoing Hale's words, echoing Brewster's words.

I saw Benjamin Tallmadge all done up in blue and gold...

#asks #ask liz #lee!#halemadge #halemadge fic #fic #ficlet #long post #read more #amrev #benjamin tallmadge #nathan hale #turn: washington's spies #fluff #THIS TOOK ME SO LONG WTF-#but i hope you love it bestie!#i am exhausted #bedtime now!#and hopefully i won't crawl back into my bed and sleep in after my alarm goes off-

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square-blunt · 3 years

Text

Even though you're never there I didn't feel you disappear.

WOOOOOOOOO I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN THREE DAYS LET'S FUCKING GO WITH A MUMZA & MR. TOMMY DANGER CAREFUL KRAKEN INNIT FIC WITH A THEMES OF REGRET AND CLOSURE WIHT A SPECIAL APPEARANCE FROM HAPPY GHOSTBUR AND FRIEND BC WILBUR SOOT CAN SUCK MY FUCKING DICK LETS FUCKING GO

Tw- a slight bit of a panic attack, but it doesn't last long at all, only a line or two, uh, death mention, Tommy's normal 'I love women' humor, I've taken the liberty to add some of my own hc about how this whole thing works and it's better than what ever Soot (derogatory) could come up with bc i say so. Wc: 4200 (lmfao 420 lol haha) AO3: here

Tommy regrets a lot of things. He doesn’t realize how much until he’s walking back from the hotel one cold, windy night. Nothing he would admit, oh no, he would never do that. It was only a way for people to target him more.

‘Talk less, smile more,’ Wilbur would say, ‘everything you say can be used by our enemies.’ And Tommy took that to heart… later than he should have. After Exile to be exact.

‘There’s a reason you never told Techno about what happened,’ Puffy had said, ‘you were scared he would use your trauma against you.’ And she was right… to a point. All this 'would say', 'had said', it didn’t matter to Tommy, it couldn't matter less because what’s done is done, what’s said is said, and who’s gone… is gone. Forever. There’s no point in fighting the unfightable. Battle, person, there was no point. The last time he reached to try and change anything he got killed- he was abandoned, again, and left to die. He knows his situation isn’t fair- Puffy’s told him so, Eret’s told him so, Ranboo’s told him so- but that doesn’t change the fact that it is. It is unfair that he can’t… have things, people. As soon as he makes something for himself, people try and take it away from him, as soon as he finds something that makes him happy they get snatched out of his hands, as soon as he finds people who are willing to help him, unapologetically, no strings attached, they are murdered in front of him. It isn’t fair, and no one else seems to see it. That’s something he regrets. Letting it get this bad. Because if all of this is happening to him, is being blamed on him, there must be something wrong, right? Ranboo doesn’t remember things, so maybe he did something awful and just… doesn’t remember. He burnt George’s house down, and if that warrants Dream’s abuse for months then he could have done anything to deserve everything else. To have almost everything and everyone he loves to be taken away from him time and time again. He couldn’t show emotion about it either, because he would be punished then, too. His best friend got blown up and he- he fucking- says something about how that’s not fair and then- he gets beat to death in a fucking box- for the crime of- fucking, what would that even count as, questioning the great Technoblade?

‘Oops- sorry- you enjoyed your music a little too much I’m going to kill your best friend and throw you in the prison for it, shouldn’t have done that, Tommy, c’mon now you now better-’ It was fucking ridiculous. He can’t understand why his consequences are so extreme compared to everyone else- Schlatt still got a grave for fuck’s sake! He has no fucking idea if anyone ever made him one- he knows Tubbo did, but Tommy and Tubbbo- Tubbo is the only one who actually gives to fucks about him at this point. Ranboo might be another, but with his memory shit, it’ll only be a matter of time before all he knows of Tommy is what other people tell him. Puffy’s only doing therapy for him because she feels guilty about losing Foolish, Eret, as much as he cares about her, is really only by his side because she feels she has a debt to pay, he’s the one following Wilbur around, fuck what Sam used to be to Tommy, Quackity was only going to get worse, Jack and Niki tried to fucking blow him up- anyone else who has unapologetically been by his side has been killed right in front of him. Everyone who has ever stood up for him has been killed in front of him or almost been killed in front of him- maybe that’s why. Maybe that’s why no one wants to be on his side because they’re afraid of the trouble he brings.

He’s a liability. They don’t want to die- so they’d rather let him die than risk anything.

He’s not a kid.

He’s something to avoid like the plague, and anyone who even remotely cared about him caught it. He feels tears sting his eyes. He hears a big gust of wind shake the trees before it whips around him- carrying a voice. A familiar voice. It whispers in his ear and settles in his mind, soft, like a blanket, he can hear it clear as day, asking if he needs anything, asking what his favorite thing in the world is, crying- crying out that he’s scared- asking with tears burning his face if it’ll be alright, ‘You promised I’d be ok!’

He regrets failing Ghostbur the most out of everything. He regrets not spending enough time with him, he regrets not telling him how much he meant to him- he sprints the rest of the way home. The digs through all his chests, his ender chest, not stopping until he finds-

“Blue, blue, blue, where is it- fuckin- please tell me I have some left, no- fuck where is it? What happened to it- please tell me- oh thank fuck- thank fuck-” After combing through the same two chests multiple times, he finally finds a few handfuls of blue left. Choking back a sob, he sees what's left of the clear turn blue and grow heavy in his hands. Ghostbur remarked that any blue he gave Tommy turned blue on contact, that it was odd, because it only happened with a few other people- Phil and Eret. People with towering regret. Phil must have regretted killing Wilbur… Eret, well, Tommy knows all too well their regret. Tommy was never able to place exactly what his regrets were.

He knows now that his regrets have only grown to encompass everything he knows.

Fuck, he feels so guilty about Ghostbur- it was Tommy's fault, wasn't it? He blamed Sam in the moment, but it really was… he was the one who told Ghostbur what to do- he was the one to use him to get into the prison in the first place. And he had to try and- calm him down- his fear still haunts Tommy's nightmares. Because he did promise. He did promise everything would be ok. But it wasn't, Tommy botched it, and Dream- Tommy had to watch- shit, it was his fault. Ghostbur is gone and there's nothing he can do to bring him back. He doesn't know anything about resurrection, and he- maybe- what if he agreed to let dream out if he got ghostbur back- no, no- no, no that's exactly what Dream wants. He wants Tommy to feel as though he's his only option. So Dream still has control. He… the last thing he wants for Ghostbur is to become a trading point. On the verge of tears, the blue changes in his hands. That never happened before- the blue changing. He looks down, and sees that the blue has turned into wool.

He hears a sheep bleat happily outside his door.

He scrambles up, moving faster than he has in a while, throwing his door open- he's not at his house. He's… not in the server even- what the hell-

It's still nighttime, but the stars are thousands of times brighter than he remembers. Instead of the prime path ahead of him, there's a quartz walkway spanning under tall birch and spruce trees; it seems that the stars are in the leaves, too. He looks behind him, hoping to hide back in his house- but it's not there. Instead, a quartz and mossy cobble archway, with more quartz pathing spilling out behind it. Tommy… might be stuck here. But he doesn't start to panic. He feels a strange kind of calm. Like this realm will let him out when his business is done. But he doesn't know what his business is.

He feels the weight leave his hands. He looks down- and the blue wool has turned clear. It's turned into delicate spindles of… something. Back to its original state. That has… never happened to Tommy before.

He looks past his hands, and the path lights up where his feet are. He jumps around a little, the light disappearing when his feet leave the path, and reappearing as they make contact again.

He laughs.

He dances around, his smile growing bigger.

The stars and the leaves seem to laugh with him.

"Hello, Tommy." a soft voice says behind him. A woman's voice.

Tommy stops, turning around, his grip tightening around the… well, it's not blue anymore, is it?

The woman is standing under the archway, tall, wearing black robes that flow around wings that are tucked neatly behind her, her long black hair almost seems a dark purple when it catches the light. To top it all off, she has a large black hat, similar to a witch’s hat, but Tommy understands that she doesn't want to hurt him. But he can never be too careful.

"Who- who the fuck are you?" Tommy says, defensively.

"Please, don't tell me that's how you greet every woman you come across?" She says, lightness in her voice and laughter in her eyes.

"Only the ones who trap me in weird- what is this place?" Tommy mutters, then asks.

"This is my home," she says clasping her hands together in front of her. "I figured you might need some closure."

"It's very pretty," Tommy murmurs again, looking down at his feet.

"Thank you, Tommy, I-"

"Wait, how do you know my name? I've never seen you before, and trust me, I would remember if I had met you." Tommy says, trying to lighten the small ball of worry in his chest. The woman laughs.

"Oh, you are exactly like my husband-"

"Oh no- You're married? Why?? A woman like you can't be tied down to just one man-"

"Tommy!" The woman laughs more.

"Augh- you're tall- you're so fucking tall and dark and mysterious- fucking hell you're tall- like I'm comfortable enough in my masculinity but still-" Tommy laughs, "and you're wearing all black- who's funeral are you going to?" he adds sarcastically. His face falls as her mood noticeably changes more somber.

"Everyone's- and no one's." she takes a few steps forward, and sighs. "My name is Kristin, Goddess of death."

"...what- i- how can- Wait a minute- oh fuck am I dead again- Wait a fucking minute where the hell were you the first three times I died- or for Tubbo- or for- Wilbur- Ghost- Ghostbur? Mexican Dream? Are they here? What do you fucking mean goddess of death? Is this the afterlife? Why the fuck didn't we go here-"

"Tommy, Tommy, I understand that you are.. allowed to ask questions, I called you here against your will- I will let you go back, I promise, and I'm going to try and answer all of your questions. Shall we walk?" She steps up, offering an arm.

Tommy is hesitant. If she… is actually the goddess of fucking death itself does he even have a choice? He nods and takes her arm. He immediately is filled with a cozy warmth- like drinking hot chocolate on a snowy day, finally getting in bed after working all night, a warmth that feels like home, like rest. Tommy muses if that's what a true, honest to prime death would feel like. When your joints finally stop aching, your breath stops rattling around your lungs.

His didn't feel like rest.

He wonders if he'll have a true death- he wonders if his joints will ever stop aching, because they do already. His breath rattles around in his lungs. Will he ever feel rested? With everything he's been through, with all the guilt he's got, probably not.

"Tommy-" Kristin begins to say,

"Are you an American? You sound-" Tommy tries to postpone the conversation he knows she's about to start

"Tommy-" she sighs, but he knows she's not mad.

"I know, I know, I use humor to cope with my trauma and to avoid talking about it, Puffy's told me this." Tommy quickly says. He feels something light brush his other arm- a feather, Kristin's put her wing around him.

"Puffy's smart, you should listen to her." Kristin nods. "But even Einstein didn't have all the answers-"

"Who?"

"-so you still should ask questions." She waves away his confusion with a motherly smile. "And you've asked plenty. And I have plenty of answers. So, one, no. You aren't dead. I simply realm hopped you to me. Any doorway can become a gateway, and it is quite easy to make one for someone like me. Something that I can't do, however, is help with pre-set death rules. Each timeline we make- just plain old 'live your life and die' got boring, so we shook it up. You all got canon lives, which… are completely not up to me. I do not get to decide which death is canon or not, and I don't get to even interact with your spirits until the third."

"Ok, then I wanna talk with the motherfucker who is in charge of those because I have a few words for them-"

"Tommy, trust me, you don't. While you are of great interest to them, and they do like you a lot, they are not going to budge on things. They are stubborn as hell- but they're a storyteller."

"Well, they're fucking stupid whoever they are."

"Although, something they- any of us really- didn't plan for was Dream having the revive book- or the revive book getting stolen from my husband in the first place. I can't tell you how many meetings I had to sit in to try and convince the others not to smite him off his earth- but that's a story for another time. Because of Dream knowing… the contents of that book, he was able to hold souls from coming to me, and he was able to place them wherever he liked. He didn't do Wilbur's soul correctly, however. His soul slipped through the cracks and got placed in… he called it limbo? That caused some issues for Dream that I'll tell you about later, but he messed up again, placing Mexican Dream in a limbo of his own, but those circumstances allowed me to save his soul from Dream-"

"Wait if you could save MD then why not-"

"Wilbur, like I said, slipped away from Dream and fell into his limbo. But, because Dream had no hand in actually directly placing Wilbur there, I wasn't able to save him. Not to mention, the manner of his death…. Nevertheless, I was able to save Mexican Dream from his limbo. In hindsight, I maybe shouldn't have, because Dream learned from that and you… you were placed somewhere I can't even access-"

"The void," Tommy whispers. He doesn't want to think about it, he shifts closer to Kristin, holding tighter to the fluff in his hand and onto Kristin's arm. She, in turn, holds him closer with her wing.

"There's an in-between life and death, and an in-between here and the limbos. Pockets of emptiness, waiting to be filled. More people find themselves there than you think, but even fewer who find their way out- you, and one of our own. There have been others, but your entire life has been different. Do you remember your life before the SMP?" she asks, softly. "You don't have to answer, but it's something to think about."

"I just want- Wilbur said that his limbo was awful. That he was there for thirteen years and that it was awful, and now because of me Ghostbur is there, too…" The black hole in his past is the last thing he wants to think about, so he changes the subject- guilt radiating off him.

"Remember the reason why I couldn't save Wilbur?" she asks, a twinkle in her voice.

"Because Dream didn't put him there- you can only save people who got put somewhere they weren't supposed to be?" Tommy looks up at her, hope tingling in his chest.

"Because Wilbur's soul fell… as naturally as it could have, Dream had to find a soul to replace Wilbur's with- with you, there was no need to find a soul to replace, because he had your soul in his hand, but for Wilbur, it was a… natural resurrection. With a missing soul, the entire continuum would collapse. So, he swapped Wilbur with Ghostbur. He placed Ghostbur somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. I was able to save him. Would you like to see him?" she smiles down at him.

"Wait he-" Tommy stops, his head spinning. Kristin stops too.

"He's safe. He's safe, and it's actually because of you. Because of that book- you can only place a soul in the void once. That was you. He had to put Ghostbur somewhere I could get him, or else his plan falls apart. Now… I can show you where Ghostbur is. But, I can't let him see you, or let you talk to each other. It's a precaution we have to take-"

"No, no, that's fine I just want to make sure he's- that he's- that I'm not-" Tommy shakes his head, trying to clear his mind, he feels like a vice has been released- one of many, but it's one. He takes a long shaky breath and nods his head. "I want to make sure that he's happy."

"Alright, come with me." She leads Tommy off the path and into the trees. Tommy hadn't lied when he said it was pretty. He has lighter steps now, and his smile is bigger than it was when he got here. They walk a little ways, Tommy sprinting when he hears the sound of familiar laughter, bright and carefree. He peeks out from behind a tree to see a clearing with a small house, mossy stone bricks, wood, and- and cobblestone. And, one semi-translucent ghost sitting behind a wall, in a garden of blue and yellow flowers, giggling. He's got a new sweater, still yellow, but there aren't any stains on it- blue or red. It's just… yellow. Pure yellow.

"I also pulled a few strings after that Skeppy incident," Kristin says, coming up behind Tommy, and Tommy perks up as he hears Ghostbur laugh again, this time a blue sheep running around the wall and up to Ghostbur.

"You found me! Good job, Friend!" Tommy hears Ghostbur say. Tommy feels a sting in his eyes, and then a hand on his back.

"You promise he's happy?" Tommy whispers.

"I swear," Kristan answers. Ghostbur stands and says something to the sheep, who bounds away. Ghostbur begins to count- backward from 10. Tommy doubles over, clutching his stomach.

"Tommy?" Kristin crouches down next to him, rubbing circles into his back.

"Counting down from 10 is not a good thing, I've decided," Tommy says, looking ahead, as Ghostbur laughs his wonderful laugh and disappears around the wall. His throat becomes dry, he doesn't want to cry in front of a goddess.

"It wasn't your fault." Kristin stands next to him, Tommy straightening up to meet her.

"Wasn't it?" he feels a tear run down his face, as he stares at the spot in that gates where Ghostbur was just moments ago.

"It was Dream's, as are so many others. Just because he punished you, doesn't mean it wasn't his fault, to begin with. Chances are, it was his fault more than anyone else's," Kristin says, her hand still running Tommy's back. He sniffles. "Are you ready to go?"

"No."

"I know, I'm sorry." Kristin's hand leaves his back, and it takes all his willpower to turn away from the small cottage and follow her. They make it back to the path, and she stops, "Oh, he gave this to me, but I don't really need it, so here. Have some blue."

That's when Tommy cries.

She's holding out a handful of light blue wool, he opens his left hand to show his one wool, now a dark blue. He reaches out, quickly, snatching it out of her hands, and he sobs out a sorry. The blue, once again, turns dark blue on contact. Then it turns clear- and then immediately turns dark blue again. It fluctuates between clear, and every shade of blue, as more and more tears fall from his face. He blocks out Kristin's words on habit- Wilbur would be telling him to suck it up by now. He tries to stop the tears, to stop sobbing, to regain composure, but he can't.

"I- I- I've- I'm a murd- I murdered pe- people- I'm not- a good p- person- why- did he tr- eat me like- I was- he treat- they tre- treated me like- like- like- like a human- when no- no one else- did- and- look at- look at where that got h- him-" Tommy turns his face into Kristin's side, and she hugs him close, closing her wings around him too. He holds the blue up to his face, letting the tears catch in it.

"Tommy, there's a reason they chose you. It's because they saw what you could be- who you could be. They wanted to help you. They knew, under all that doubt and hurt and regret was a boy who loved his friends. And they love you, too. I swear on it." She keeps rubbing circles into his back, letting Tommy cry. "I know all about sorrow, Tommy," she says, kind, "I understand that you will hurt. There's no bringing back who you lost, and it will hurt for as long as you live- but that hurt is proof that you care. It's proof that you are a good person. You are a good person."

Tommy breathes in a long shuddering breath, and lets it out, moving his arms to hug her back.

"Thank you, mom- oh wait I'm sorry-" Tommy pulls back, absolutely mortified at his slip-up, Kristin just laughs- not at Tommy, no, no, it's happy… motherly.

"No, Tommy, I can be your mother if you'd like!" She smiles.

"Yeah, because Puffy is kinda my dad because Phil didn't really do a good job." Tommy looks down at his feet.

"Oh, of course, I think my husband would be fine with adopting another kid. Although, considering what happened to the first one- I'm kidding, I'm kidding, he could have turned out worse," Kristin laughs, holding Tommy’s face and wiping away the tear marks.

"Wait- wasn't I flirting with you a few minutes ago-" Tommy smiles, laughing too.

"Oh my-"

"Welp, you're still my mother now- that makes you a milf, you're welcome!" Tommy doesn't mean anything by it, of course, he's just pointing it out.

"Tommy!!" Kristin laughs harder, and Tommy's smile grows bigger. "We should get you back anyways, you need some sleep."

"But moooooooom-" Tommy complains, joking, of course.

"Now, now, Tommy, I am your mother, I know what's best," Kristin says, picking up the bit.

"My stomach hurts, do I have to go to school tomorrow?" Tommy jokes, walking back towards the archway.

"Oh dear," Kristin tsks, walking next to him, putting the back of her hand up to his forehead, "You don't seem to have a fever at the moment, we'll see how you feel in the morning."

They laugh and joke around until they reach the portal, and she reaches up to pluck a feather from her hat and hand it to Tommy.

"A token for my son. Something you can flaunt around. Also- can you do me a favor?" Kristen smiles.

"Oh, of course!" Tommy gingerly takes the feather and spins it around in his fingers.

"When you get back, can you just tell my husband I said hi? He'll see it." She looks through the empty portal longingly, and Tommy wonders who this husband is.

"If he ever hurts you I'll kill him, " He says, completely serious.

Kristin laughs, "I know you will, Tommy, I know you will. Thank you." She snaps her fingers and the archway leads into his house. She ruffles his hair, and Tommy playfully swats her hand away. "I'll see you again, be safe, ok?"

"I will. Tell Ghostbur, if you can, that…. Tell him that I'm sorry, and that I miss him?" He says, one foot through the gateway, before stopping and looking back.

"I will. Good luck, Tommy.” She smiles, and Tommy can’t help but smile back. He steps through the portal, and looks back one last time- and it’s gone. He sees those oak doors, the prime path outside, he hears Shroud above him. His smile stays.

/msg all: Hey, Kristin’s husband? She says hi.

He laughs.

/msg all: She also adopted me so I’m your son now, good luck L kekw

With that, he closes his communicator and lets the chaos ensue. He spins the feather in one hand and holds the blue- back in its original... substance? He opens his ender chest, placing the blue somewhere he knows he’ll find it, and lays the feather next to his discs.

“Thank you. I’ll do you proud.”

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nyarisu · 4 years

Text

Rammstein: Paris liveblogging

This live is so fancy! My god, the intro is so dramatic, and the guys haven’t even appeared XD there are even alarm sounds!

Their entrance is *chef’s fingers kiss* and Ollie being the high fantasy dark elf we all asspire to be XD Say what you will about the spasmic editing, this was very nicely filmed!

I love the array of microphones on Till’s coat.

Asdghjl the flags being set into place and then Ollie with the flame! It’s all so badass! Also Schneider is hot XD

Sonne

Oooh they’re starting with this one! Also one of the few times he’s counting.

The instrumental at the beginning is always giving me shivers, it’s so powerfull

And I love the static editing

I can say whatever I want about this song being over mentioned by everyone... but the true is it’s amazing!

Don’t punch yourself, dumb baby.

THE FIRE!!!

Lol @ Richard being a sea urchin XD

The ending was fantastic<3 very dramatic!

Wollt ihr das Bett in Flammen sehen

Aasdfghjkl THAT SHOT OF SCHNEIDER!!!

The doom guy sounds are killing me I love them and the fireworks collars are amazing. I love this song so much!

Schneider throwing the drummstick in the air ♡

„AAAAAAA AAAAA” silly editing of Till every time AAAA BUT FUNNY NONETHELESS

„RAMMSTEIN!”

I love the gloves!

This song always gets me so pumeped up! And the editing makes it even more dramatic and full o energy!

The fire works at the end!

Keine Lust

Unfortunately, I sometimes vibe with this song T_T

It has such a powerful beginning it must be wonderful to hear it live.

Wanna see me fangirl again about Schneider spinning the stick midair and then catching it again?

Flake loks weird and I wouldn’t trust him.

Richard’s „nein, Ich habe keine Lust”

Dear lord Till has wonderfull eyes.

Wtf was with that tongue, Jonas??

Very nice Schnooter shots!

Oh, Ollie is hoodless now. A bit better, I think.

Paul being badass with his guitar.

Till bby who hurt you like this?

(fortunately for me ich habe some Lust hence me doing this liveblog)

Sehnsucht

Let’s geT NOSTALGIC BITCHES

I love that chanting so much!

Did he just made a cross sign??

Till is doing some hammering and Flake is just vibing XD

The chanting! The fire! The atmpshere!! I love everything about this song live

If he doesn’t hit his forhead.... oh, he actually didn’t...

Asche zu Asche

Nice trio in the front~

I swear to god Richard is always sexy on the mic during this song and he’s probably doing it on purpose! And the way he gestures!!

Lol I was wondering when Till will start acting like a slut XD

The keyboards are amazing before the last chorus.

Yesssh microhpones on fire!1

Feuer frei

Ugh that tongue edit again... leave Till’s tongue alone, Jonas!

Auch, that hurt.

BANG BANG

Flake, chase that nonsense right away XD

Leave his eye alone too!

That Schneider smirk when Till came with the mask. I love the masks!

IMAGINE BEING THERE and seeing this asdfghjkl the ultimate Rammstein experience.

Mutter

Some green lightng oh no that’s Mutter better be prepared to have my heart broken. The saddest song to ever sad you have no idea what it does to me.

Richard playing there, he’s really feeling the song.

The guitar solo is amazing!

Till was suffering there and I was shamelessly admiring Schneider behind him XD

God his eyes

The spark shower, if that doesn’t beak your heart even further... (but very nice arms >w>)

*sighs* that was fantastic~

Mein Teil

Wow I can’t belive he even added sound effects to the title melting away gross :))))

I’m getting goosebumps because of the insrtumental, it’s that awesome!

I love the moves schenider has in the background. And everytime he strikes the air with his fist.

Flake popping out of the couldron kils me everytime XD

Too much blood editing.

„da aAS IS MEIN TEIL!”

Schneider is being once again sexy in the back.

Till has funny dance moves but i love his serious face

And Flake being like no thank you I’m not buying anythingXD

Let’s START THE FLAKE COOKING

„you over there, give me your fire throwing thingy” jaaaaaaaa

There is no concert without Fklake’s spastic dance moves XD

Du riechst so gut

The bow!!

„der Wahnsinn” dear lord Richard you’re killing me.

The first time I saw Paul and Till doing that I almost had a heart attack I really thought they were gonna smash their heads together XD I see them doing it for shits and giggles.

I love the synchronised head baniging (more like bodybanging)

Yes, guitars on fire! Congrats on throwing that now jump after it :)))))

I just want to kiss Till’s mouth.

Links 2 3 4

Schneider stop being sexy!

I love the guys’ entrance for this song.

Till being all business. Onwards, my mighty stallion XD

The last chorus was very nice and full of energy (thanks editing).

Du hast

Ugh to those lightnings but otherwise is fantastic.

Do you think they ever get sick of playing it? I never expected this to be Richard’s fav song to play live....

That RZK ass XD

The fire!

Oh the keyboard must be divine live~

It must be really impressing to have a full hall singing just for you.

And then my favourite part! All that thing wiht shooting fire that comes back and then the whole stage exploding! Definitely my favourite R+ effect. Really nice image

Haifish

This gave me goosebumps again

„Sechs Herzen, die brennen” *choking* thanks for the feels-

Flake is really brave for doing that boat thingy. I could never.

Lol those dance moves, unexpected butf unny as usual.

Till clapping for Flake XDDD silly

I like the pose he aodopted while waiting for the song to move on.

Buck dich intro

This gets it’s own section because I love the instrumental so much!! Or remix, whatever you wanna cal it. It’s fantastic<3

And Richard enjoying every eye on him :D Nice ass anyway.

Weird over editing I don’t understand but whatever, we’re ignoring that.

Woo woo machine XD

Asdhjkl the BRIDGE IS COMING DOWN

THEY ARE COMING SDFGHJKLSCJHNV EJUSCD

Hello Frau Schneider and her puppies #till lehman is a sub

One of my favourite Till looks.

Of course he must be humping something or someone XD

Schneider x Rchard banter is the best. And then bodilly dragging Till onto the stage<3 I HAVE LOTS OF FEELINGS ABOUT THIS WHOLE THING OK??

Look at him being a good puppy RHI WHERE IS YOUR FIC??

Buck dich

Honestly now what is better that a shirtless Till with a colar?

The most syncopated instrumental ever. They are fucking crazy (I love them).

I was reminded of this fic XDD

Wow imagine being there and seeing Buck dich for the first time that is wild

„why are you wet?” „eh, I was too close to the stage” (part 1)

„NOCH EINMAL!!!”

The whole ending with Till and Schneider was hilarious XDDD

Man gegen man

Let’s go with that gay song! XD

Dumb editing but I’m focusing on Flake dancing beside Till.

He has an amazing back<3

I love how he goes crazy during the solo.

Wow Jonas went full with the editing for a few seconds didn’t he?

Also Till did something very sexy with that watter bottle.

Ohne dich

Time to have no feels again

I want that collar too.

Paulchard vibing together’

The hall looks amazin with all those little light on!

Dear lord Schneider looks fantastic.

Paul being cute again XD

Asdfghjkl Till crossing that bridge gave me a nose bleed tbh

Mein Herz brennt

My favorurite instrumental ever! And the one who convinced me to listen to this band.

A little sad they put on shirts again but hey, at least RZK took his off XD

The glowing heart is a loved effect but I preffer the current one to this, the timing is better now.

Amerika

Live is the only way I’m not skipping this song. The last time I listened to it is probably the last time I watched this very live XD

Are they actually whistling?

Why do they all look so good?

Flake, what are you doing? :)))

Ich will

Richard’s arms lookin fine and Till is being a slutt with the microphone again XD

Was that chick shirtles? XDD

Nice firework at the end.

Engel

So... is this whistling real or?

Those wings... in Till’s defence, I thing the floating wings are much more spectacular and much easier for his back too.

Pew!

Why!! Why do you edit those things?? They are gonna give me nightmares!

But whatever the wings on fire are cool.

Really Jonas this is not an anime stop enlarging eyes.

Pussy

Another badass entrance, considering the song XD

„Er könnte etwas größer sein” will always kill me :)))

Oh, your eyes are so pretty~

Poor mic stand.

The dick canon! To be in the first few rows... XDD „why are you wet?” „eh, I was too close to the stage” (part 2)

I love how wide Till’s back is<3

„let’s do it QUICK” peak slutiness from Herr Lindemann :)))))

I love how they all gathered around Schneider.

It impresses me so much everytime they kneel for their audience<3

Looking very nice there, Ollie!

I thought Schneider was gonna do a backflip with how he streched XDDD oh, hello Richard~

Fruhling in Paris

Till has very nice legs.

Not saying anything about him floating off like a damn fairy :)))))

I love evey time one of the others is singling along (this time: Schneider)

And Flake just ran off XD

Conclusions:

Tbh when I’m lacking motivation I really should watch this live it gives so much energy!

The Amerika / Engel whistling question still stands.

2 hours of nothing but Rammstein. I approve

#rammstein #rammbois #liveblogging

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borrelia · 4 years

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thinkin bout when antiantis/prosh*ppers or w/e they wanna call themselves (freaks) try to say that parents need to monitor their childs online presence more n im like 🤔🤔 how, perchance, do you suggest they do that? if my parents went through my search history when i was 13 i would’ve been So unhappy and wouldnt trust them nearly as much as i do. if my parents blocked sites like ffnet or da i Also wouldntve trusted them as much and probably wouldve asked my friends how to bypass the locks (as if i wasnt already finding ways to bypass our computer locks L O L).

I didnt get a functioning personal internet-connected device until highschool i think. didnt get a laptop untillll i was 15? i think? prior to that i shared a computer wiht my sibling in the Family Computer Room, With The Screen Facing The Door. so like. they were already doing what they could to monitor our internet use without overstepping boundaries. i made some of my closest friends (still!) online when i was 12/13 and i got Constant talks abt Dont Trust Strangers, Don’t Give Out Personal Info, It Could Be A Pedophile Trying to Lure You Out Somewhere (it never was lol). so like. again, i was given as much protection as my parents could reasonably give. but guess what!! while looking for fun fancontent of my favorite Childrens Cartoons For Kids, i would STILL find the content Freakies put out bc like. they cant keep that shit To Themselves and Away From Kids. I didn’t go Looking for explicit cp but it found me anyway!! yay!

n ofc not to downplay the role that the normalization of this content amongst my peers played! bc definitely a huge part of how i was exposed to these things was the cascade of 1) adults producing the content in a space for kids 2) adults normalizing this fr kids, kids mimicking them 3) adults continuing to encourage n allow the propagation of this content within these spaces 4) kids in turn encouraging other kids to participate in this content. like, kids r gonna have some Bad Takes as they r exploring sexuality but its up to adults to NOT ENCOURAGE HARMFUL BEHAVIORS....

anyway the tldr is that its not the child’s fault they see inappropriate content, its not even their fault if they Participate in it, it’s up to adults (parents, yes, but also the adults in the online spaces in which kids r spending their time) to provide a safe space n set healthy examples

also proshippers choke 😝✌

#couch rambles #and those r my Thots on that #this is mostly abt z*dr obv lol

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sass-cass-writes · 7 years

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Floating Downtown - Part 2

Title: The Hunters Club

Author: @sass-cass-writes / @sassy-castiels-angel

Description: Sammy its time to face your coulrophobia with Pennywise! With a string of disappearances occurring in Maine, the Winchester Brothers and the reader, a vivid Stephen King fan, try to stop the monster that snatches children and kills them every 27 years. But what will happen when the circus comes to town?

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, Beverly Marsh, Demons

A/N: Reader is speech impaired after being tortured by Abaddon’s right hand man and having her vocal cords destroyed. Ive never written mute characters, so this is a first. If anyone has feedback, please give some!

Warnings: brief PTSD of torture, gorey description, angst(?) clowns

tagging: @totallyluckycoffee / @dixonlover1605 , @wonderavian

READ PART ONE HERE, GIFS ARE NOT MINE

You felt the metal on your neck, its chilling tip dripping with death as it dug into your neck. The demon’s eyes were dark and bottomless. You tried to whimper, but how could you? You were scared. The tip of the scalpel dug into your skin cutting through the five thick layers of you neck as his hand expertly dragged down the metal tool as if completing an operation. You screamed, your muscles tensed and pulled making the pain even worse. Thrashing and writhing, your eyes strained at the immense and excruciating pain you felt. They slowly cut your throat, blooding flowing heavily onto the bed and into your lungs as you started to choke on your blood. While taking this opportunity, the demons placed the scalpel under the muscles and flesh that produces your sweet and comforting voice according to Bobby. He started to pull upwards. The scalpel sliced through each stretch of muscle. You tried to screamed but you couldn’t. One muscle, two muscle. The demon smirked evilly. Even worse, the demons were Sam and Dean. SNAP! The final cord and muscle broke as you laid there thrashing weakly.

“Oh sweetheart,” The fake “Dean” said as he stroke your hair gently. You shake as you try to move away. “It hurts us that you’re being put through so much pain.” He smiles cockily exactly like him. “But you have to understand that this is the only way to protect us,” motioning to him and fake “Sam”, “and you care about us, right?” You stay quiet. As much as you want to swear at them, curse and scare them saying the Winchesters, the real, HUMAN ones would skin them alive, you couldn’t. He smirks and mockingly places his hand behind his ear and leans in. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He reaches over and caresses your cheek as you bleed out. This wasn’t the end, they’d bring you back, harass you, get their cursed hands all over your body, cut you up until you die from shock, pain or blood loss. This cycle was repeated daily for the past week. It was even worse seeing that they were also messing with your mind, making you believe Sam and Dean were hurting you. Every bad word they said stung worse than the physical pain. You, surprisingly of all people, started to pray to Castiel. Every night you’d plead him to rescue you and the realisation dawned on you that he wasn’t an angel but a human now. So what could he do? You cried wanting to go home to the confines of the bunker. At least there, demons and monsters were warded off against.

“Y/N?” The question snapped you out of your recollection. You jumped up to see rain drops hit violently against the windshield and slide fast alongside the windows. Lighting struck somewhere in the distance. 1…2…3…4…5- lightning struck again. You sit up and groan, rubbing your head Sam’s jacket draped over you. “You okay?” Sam asked as he drove. The road was pitch black, Baby’s lights illuminating whatever in her path. The radio was on as it played your favourite mix tape. You all had one, you remember Dean making your very own. It was a mix of classic rock, new age and a bit of Australian songs. Dean and Sam had gotten used to your mixtape, even Dean’s favourite collection of Metallica wasn’t favoured as much. Chris Rea’s “Let’s Dance” had just finished with its brass instruments in an upbeat tune and guitar strums played in sync. Prince’s “” started to play, and it was one of your favoruites.

“Dearly beloved,

"We are gathered here today,

"To get through this thing called loved.”

Sam looks at you and smiles a little as you drive in the rain. You nodded in response to his earlier question. He nods and drives tapping the wheel as the techno pop sounds of ‘Prince and the Revolution’ filled the impala. “We’re about forty-five minutes out from Chicago, wanna pop into a motel for the night? OR would our princess prefer a five-star hotel?” He laughs a little as you punch his arm from the pet name and joke. You signed an answer.

“Motel, jackass.” You smile a little. Sam’s phone rang and sure enough it was Dean.

“Get this kiddo’s!"Dean reported into the phone. "I found Abaddon, figure I can take her out."You and Sam looked at each other and sighed.

"Dean,” Sam started. “Wait for us to finish this case and then WE can go kill Abandon.”

“Sorry Sammy, I gotta do this, the Mark’s getting worse.” Your face fell at this. You were there when Dean and Cain exchanged the mark, how it glowed bright red as it formed the cursed seven. Dean reassured you that everything was going to be okay. Last words you ever heard before you got kidnapped. You and Sam sighed, and so did dean after a while. “I’ll wait, just in case something happens.” You and Sam smile a little. “So where are you guys now? Princes staying in a hotel?” Sam laughs as you flip Dean off and sign to the phone multiple curses. Dean knows what he did, and he laughs a little.

“We’re coming up to a motel now.” Sam said, wheezing from a little laugh.

“Why stay in a motel when your riding in one of the best home on wheels ever? Besides you’re forty five minutes out, don’t waste it.” Dean says, almost offended that any grimy motel was better than the 67 Impala.

“Its 10:43 at night Dean.”

You give a deadpan look a look over at the back seat. And your thoughts were proven right. You signed to Sam your response.

“There’s stains on the apolstry from Dean’s "extracurricular” activities back there!“ Sam snorted a little and laughed. Even though he wasn’t there, you could feel Dean frowning in response to Sam’s giggles.

"Did you just offend my baby, (Y/N)?” Dean almost growled, Sam wheezed and forced his giggles to a halt, you smirking in pride.

“(Y/N) said, from what I understand, that she’d rather spend a night in a grimy motel than a backseat with your cum stains on it. She doesn’t wanna get the clap from you.” Sam said bursting into a tiny giggle as the line went quiet and you couldn’t help but smile widely. He hangs up as Sam steered the car into a motel lot and got out to book a room. Whilst he did so, you grabbed the bags and ran inside out of the torrential rain.

-•••-

The next day, you and Sam headed to the office warehouse of Beverly Marsh. Pulling up to the curb in the impala, you stepped out in your FBI suits and walked in grabbing a file and notepad. Walking in, the creek of metal glistened as machines whirred and fabrics torn.

You screamed as they brought the hammer down on your delicate fingers, the force of the steel alloy on the wooden pole impacting with the thin layer of skin and brittle bone. They repeated the motion, until your nerves and bones were broken into nothing but clumps. You screamed and cried as the cold air pierced the open wounds.

“(Y/N)?” Sam asked, grabbing you out of your daze, as your hand felt numb. You looked at him and walked towards the main office a few floors up. The whirring of the elevator above you made you think about the drill.

It spun and whirred quickly as they brought it closer and closer to your face, a scare tactic. You leaned away from it to avoid its impact, until it’s breeze caressed your cheek. The fake “Sam” held you head firmly in place as “Dean” pressed the drill against your cheek. Your skin tore and twisted until in broke from the extreme force as blood splattered and flesh twisted and flew as “Dean"pushed the drill into your skin. The major nerves in your cheek had got caught in the twisting of the metal extension as they tightened and stretched until they snapped making you scream and bite your tongue. Your nails dug into the wooden chair as your gripped it tightly as eyes wide as you whimper. "Sam” held your jaw tightly so you couldn’t cry out. God let this be the end!

“(Y/N)!” Sam gripped your shoulders, gently but concerned as he jolted you awake to the reality. He was kneeled down in front of you as you were cowered in the corner, arms over your face. “Hey, its okay.” You leaned into him as he helped you up and held you. “I got you (Y/N), thats all behind us now.” You nodded as he kisses your forehead and stroked your hair. You looked at him. He didn’t deserve you, he’s too good for you, all you deserved was a translating machine. Not this fucking 6'4" sunshine ray of comfort and sass whom you’re in love with. He tilted your head up and wiped your tears away with the gentlest touch as he gives a small reassuring smile. The elevator comes to a halt as you step back and straighten your dress as Sam does the same. You hear arguing from the office and you instantly raise an eyebrow. A man in a black suit was arguing with a woman wiht fuzzy brown hair, that must be Beverly Marsh. You and Sam walk closer as you knock on the door.

“Who the hell are you?” The man almost yelled.

“Tom, dont talk people like that!” Beverly chastised as he stared at her. You and Sam pulled out your badges and showed them to the couple, Tom’s face falling into one of hidden panic.

“I’m Agent Farris, this is my partner Agent Hutchence. We’d like to talk to Miss Marsh.” Sam said as you both put away your badges.

“We’re about to close a deal with Japanese investors, it can wait.” Tom scowled as he gripped Beverly’s arm and proceeded to the door. You were quick to grab the man’s arm and stop him. “Don’t touch me Agent, I can call you for assault.” He sneered as you stared at him. Sam growled at the man. Nobody ever talked to you like that and walked scot free.

“Five minutes.” Sam growled as he walked to Miss Marsh, Tom reluctantly letting go and walking off pissed. Once he was far away, Sam muttered; “Asshole.” He sat Beverly down as she looked down embarrassed and scared. You gripped her hand reassuringly and smiled. She smiles back as Sam begins the questioning.

“Miss Marsh-”

“Call me Bev.” She requested.

“Bev,” Sam paused. “We came to you because we want to ask you about a string of murders happening in your hometown of Derry.” At that instant, colour drained from her face and swallowed as if a fish swam through her throat. Sam noticing this, softened his face. “I’m sorry-”

“No it’s alright,” Bev reassured. “I just- Derry was a bad moment in my life. I’m sure you’ve heard of psychiatric reports.” She laughs little awkwardly.“

"We know ma'am. But we also know there was an incident with six friends of yours back in the summer of 88’. And people have claimed to have seen a clown.” As if at the word clown, Beverly’s face fell and became scared.

“A c-clown?”

“Yes,” Sam says leaning in. “Bev, just tell us the truth, because we’re going to end it.” She nods and sighs. She began to tell her situation as of 11 years old and how she befriended six male friends. And how he had haunted them. How they defeated him. It sounded so familiar.

“We had went to "It’s” hiding place in the sewers, and we had lost track of Stan along the way. We were scared.“ Beverly said as she fiddled with her fingers, scared of retelling the story.

"Beverly, you said defeated him.” Sam asked as you saw Tom striding towards the office angrier.

“Shit”

“Yes, we had found out tha-”

“I can’t hold off the Japanese Investors time anymore Beverly!” Tom roared, as he looked to Sam. “It’s been well over five minutes Agents.” He strides to Beverly but you once again grab his arm and stand up, giving him a stern look. “Get. Off. Me.” He sneered, the strong stench of alcohol in his breath.

“How about you show her some respect you son of a bitch.” Sam defended as he walked over. “She’s done more good than you ever had. And although she’s mute and lost her voice, she didn’t loose the respect and pride she has.” He stands in front of you and stares at Tom.

“I should go.” Beverly says as she stands, “We’ve been waiting for this deal for a while. If you have any other questions, please ask.” You nod and tap your chin lowering your hand as you sign “Thank You.” Beverly smiles. “So thats why you didn’t talk, I thought you were shy.” She smiles as she walks out Tom following.

“What a dick.” Sam growled as he turned to you. “You okay?” You roll your eyes and nod closing your notepad full of notes.

“You shouldn’t have aggravated him Sam. As much as he deserves it, he’s not worth it at the same time.” You sign as you look up at him.

“He shouldn’t have talk to you like that (Y/N), you don’t deserve it.”

“Sam…”

“Don’t Sam me, (Y/N). Sam pleads almost. "Men have to respect you, not throw you around like nothing. You’re smart and beautiful, caring and selfless as well as bloody amazing.” Your face softens at his description of you. It’s almost like he’s saying he- NO, he doesn’t. Before you could respond, he walks- no, storms out and to the elevator. You sigh and follow, seeing Tom down the hall gripping Beverly’s arm tightly to bruise her. That would explain the bruises on her legs and cheeks through the make up.

Sam waited for you in the elevator as you walked in. It wasn’t long till you were driving back to the motel.

#supernatural #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural smut #sam winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #dean winchetser #it #pennywise the dancing clown #supernatural/it crossover #clowns #floating downtown

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dontbethatshank · 7 years

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First Kiss

Alby: Your first kiss is a hazy memory, but a sweet one. You were one of the first Gladers to enter the Glade, you came up with Alby, Newt, and all the others who were in the first group. It wasn’t long after that all the guys realzied you were the one and only girl, possibly the only girl to ever see the Glade. Months went by and only other boys came up, not that you minded. But Alby was very protective of you. He insisted you sleep in the Homestead and he insisted he sleep in the room next to you to ensure none of the other guys got any ideas. You agreed, begrudgingly, but you agreed. You remember one night, you woke up ina cold sweat, a yelp leaving you mouth. You had been having nightmares the past few weeks but all you rememebr were these flashes of memories, of being trapepd in a glass box, of seeing these people clothed in white. But it was almsot like your memories were being wiped away clean everytime you woke up. Alby heard you and rushed in, thinking one of the guys got too tipsy at the bonfire or maybe the Greenie didn’t get the message, but instead all he saw was you, breathing hard and withsweat and tears streaming down your face. he crawled into your bed silently, stroked your hair, and pulled you into his chest, rocking you gently. You fisted his shirt and shuddered out a sigh, finally choking down your cries. In the dark you looked up at him, your mind hazy and your thoughts unclear. “Thank you,” you whispered, and as he was about to whisper back his response, you leaned up and kissed him, your chapped lips pushign against his smooth ones, tears rolling down inbetween your lips. He held you close and pulled back, rubbing your cheek softly. “You’re welcome,” he whispered, and kissed you again. The next morning you thought it was a dream, until you roleld over to find Alby, fast asleep behind you, his mouth open with snores coming out, his shirt riding up, and his arms flailed around him. It was a sweet kiss. A sad, sweet kiss that helped the nightmares subside for the night.

Gally: With Gally, your first kiss was your favorite, one you wish you could relive over again. You weren’t one of the very first Gladers, but you came up in the box within the first year, shocking everyone but easily sliding into their routines. The boys obviously grew found of you, but Gally grew the fondest as well as the closest to you. You remember you had asked him to come help you clean some clothes, since several of the boys in the gardens had slipped in a muddy patch and ruined their only clean clothes for the rest of the month. Half of them worse old ratty clothes, the others went shirtless and wore baggy old boxers. You had finished restocking with the medjacks and no one needed you, so you decided to go and clean the boys’ clothes in the small little pond in the deadheads in a bucket with some spare soap you found in the supply crates. Gally happily agreed and followed you, carrying some of the clothes while you carried the buckets and soap, along with some rope to tie to a couple trees to dry the clothes on. You dipped the muddy clothes in the pond and scrubbed off most of the dirt by hand, Gally following suit. You instructed him to do that with all the others, while you grabbed the bucket and put soem soap in it, going down a few feet to the ‘cleaner’ water of the pond to fill it up. Gally scrubbed the clothes, you dipped them in water and scrubbed them again, and then dipped them into the clean water once you rung them out to get out the remaining soap. You guys had almost finished all the clothes when Gally reached down and splashed youw ith the water. Gasping, now covered in cold water, you laughed and splashed him back. Mischeviously, eyeing the buckt of the ‘clean’ and now partially soapy water, Gally grabebd it as you ran off, knowing what was going to come. you both laughed wildly, runnign around the pond and the trees. Eventually Gally caught up to you and backed you against a big, thick tree, grinning as he went to pour the water on you. Trying to avoid getting even more wet as well as getting caught up int he moment, you grinend and leaned forward, kissing him. Gally stopped all movement, but after a few seconds he kissed back. It was soft and sweet, you both were a bit wet and your clothes were sticking to you, but it was a memorable moment. As you pulled back, Gally smiled widely. In return, you simply smirked, ashoved the bucket he was holding, causing all of the water to splash onto him. “You little... Y/N!” Gally yelled, as you ran off. He chased after you, laughing and grinning widely. It was a fun day, and after that, Gally never was as ‘harsh’ as everyone first found him to be. Now he enjoyed doing chores and helping you wash the dishes and the clothes - Alby was confused by it and Newt just didn’t want to know why. But you couldn’t complain.

Newt: You had been in the Glade for about 7 months now, the others had all been here for about 2 years. So you weren’t a stranger to the way of the Glade, nor were you a stranger to the overprotective nature of the boys. But tonight, it was a celebration - a bonfire. You had gotten a new Greenie andthe ritual of the Glade called for a bonfire, booze, fighting, food, and music. You normally just served the food, hung out with your friends, and watced Gally kick the klunk out of the Greenies while cheerign him on (yes, Gally had grown on you and you had forced yoruself to grow on him - it was a balanced enough friendship). But tonight, for no other reason than to just let loose, you decided to drink. And boy oh boy... did that get crazy fast. Three glasses of he ‘special Gally mix’ and you were gone. You were dancing with any and every guy in the Glade, you even tried to fight Gally - obviously loosing, but causing him to burst into laughter as you huffed out a “Well, that was uncalled for, and also very rude” as he pushed you otu of the circle, causing you to roll onto your stomach. You were the life of the bonfire, and no one minded - it just made everything more lively. But Newt, who stayed off to the side, became a bit worried. Alby told him to just let you be, you weren’t hurting anyone or anything, but Newt insisted you should go to bed. Standing up from his small place that was hidden behidn one of the logs, he began to walk over to you. “Y/N!” he called out from you, maybe two or three yards form you, on the other side of the fire. “Neww-wwt!” you sinsonged back, turning around and running right at him. He was afraid you weren’t going to stop, but instead, you jumped up, bracing yourself on hsi shoulders, and he hastily grabbed your legs. You laughed, loudly with your had thrown back. “Good catch!” you grinned, before leaning down, kissing him, your arms now looped around his neck. the entire Glade paused, everyone, and I mean quiet literally everyone, looked on. You puleld back, seeing a wide eyed Newt with a small smile on his face. you giggled and laid your head on his shoulder, letting out a small yawn. “I think...” ALby began, coming up behind Newt, placing a hand on his other shoulder,”that she is both drunk and about to pass out.. better tuck her in.” Newt nodded and hoisted you up, throwing you over his shoulder as you bursted into another fit of giggles. “Byyy-yeee guys,” you sing songed, waving at everyone. The Gladers just laughed, waving back at you as you were taken off to bed. You tried to avoid any alcohol after that, but all the guys tried to give it to you after that night. Drunk you was a bit... crazy.

Minho: Quickly, almost the week after you entered the Glade, you became a runner. When you came up in the box, surrounded by guys, you became terrified. You dashed away, running as far as you could. The boys began to laugh, but then Gally became fully aware; “She’s headed for the maze!” he screamed. Everyone ran after you, but you kept running,a nd running, and running. You traveled quickly, your legs going as fast as possibly, you jumped over anything in your path, agility being another definetely strong suit of yours. But, before you made your grand escape, one of the boys who had stayed near the barn to finish up a chore was able to jump out in front of you, wrapping hsi arms around you and fighting you to the ground. And again, you quickly overpowered him, getting up to run again, but Gally had gotten a hold of you, begging you to stop fighting. You screamed, begging for them not to hurt you, and eventually Alby forced them to put you down, doing his best to convine you that no one would hurt you. After that, ltos of teasign came, many friendships were built, and you became an automatic runner per the say of Alby. Afterwards, it’s history as they say. You became runner, you soon knew the entire outline of the Maze, and you were respected among the other runners. One day, while out running with Minho, you two were joking and talking, making small talk as you both ran. you cut off vines to leave a path for you both while Minho wrote down the directions in a small notepad. You both came to a halt, hearing a whirring noise to your left. Slowly you both looked to see a Griever, maybe three yards away, and it had spotted you too. you both took off in a mad dash, the Griever close behind. You back tracked and tried to go towards the Glade in hopes of out running it, but as you rounded a corner, there was a bit of rock that had fallen off of one of the walls. You let out a small screech as you stumbled over it, tearing up yoru knee and shin, making it harder to run. Minho looked behind the two of you before picking oyu up bridal style and runnng as fast as he could. “There!” you yelled out, pointing at a thick patch of vines. You squirmed out of his arms and quickly scrambled over to the wall. Pulling back some vines you shwoed him a small hollowed out space. He quickly pushed you in and then crammed himself into it wiht you, pulling the vines back. You both held your breath, waiting until the Griever whirred past, until you could no longer hear the clicks or the machine gears. Letting out a sigh of relief, you pulled back the vines slowly. You and Minho got out, looking around you, up the walls, down the run ways; everywhere. With a grin, you turned towards him. “Fuck yea, you shank!” you yelled. Grinning back, Minho high fived you, causing a loud smack. After a second of victorious grinning, you lunged forward, almost as an instinct, and cupped his cheeks, kissing him. It was hard, and passionate, and both of your hearts were racing from adrenaline. You pulled back after a mintue, Minho with a stupid, ditzy grin on his face. “Thank you,” you said,”for saving my life... I guess I owe you.” Without a moments hesitation Minho gave you a reply, “You can pay me back by kissing me like that again.” Sassy and quick on his feet; as per usual.

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queen-of-seventeen · 7 years

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It all keeps crumbling - Feysand (Modern Time AU)

https://queen-of-seventeen.tumblr.com/post/165690940568/it-all-keeps-crumbling-feysand-modern-au

Inspired by this post by likehemmins but the acc is unavailable. *fuck this*

It all keeps crumbling - Feysand fluff (Modern time AU)

chapter one - Date night

After all the time of not talking Feyre had hoped Tamlin would show up. He promised. Then again he had promised to come to her house a couple of times a week. He hadn’t done that either. He had broken so many promises over the last few weeks and made so many new ones. He wasn’t willing to let her go out even if it was with him and he wasn’t there.

She did not remember how long ago she had walked into the restaurant, she did remember the drop of her heart when he handn’t been there already. Tamlin must be busy with his job. He was the big lord. Maybe one of his meetings had taken longer than expected, That was possible right?

She sighed and leaned her head on her hand. This was the first time Tamlin was making time to go out with her since the accident. He was so set on making everything safe for her that he hadn’t realised how choked she was beginning to feel. The appartment he had bought for her had to many locks on the windows and doors. She felt locked in a space that should be safe. Nowhere was safe, not as long as she was with Tamlin but with all the protection her mob lord had put in place she was surprised that he didn’t show up in the restaurant. Although it must be safe, she noticed one of his minions sitting a couple of tables away although he was eating. Why wasn’t Lucien just coming to sit with her, or was that another one of Tamlins rules, don’t engage with Feyre when he isn’t there. Her life was flowing away from her like a river.

Ever since that kidnapping three months ago she hadn’t felt safe even though Tamlin did everything in his power to keep her safe. He gave her another minion every day to keep her safe but never company. She was lonely in that appartment. Pretty to see but not a home, not to her. Letting Feyre pick the restaurant was the first sign that he trusted her. It would have been if he didn’t also order her to pick a restaurant he owned. He owned a lot of them. This was all for her own safety, she had to remind herself. But it could also be considered safety to tell her who actually got her out of that building. She knew that Tamlin knew who got her out. She knew Tamlin wasn’t it. He couldn’t show up with all that police, he couldn’t risk being caught. She didn’t want him to be caught. She just wanted to see that he cared about her. Words weren’t enough anymore. Words had got her into that restaurant, alone. When did they last have a real conversation?

The waitress looked over what seemed to be the hundreds time tonight. A sad look in her eyes. A couple more minutes, Feyre promised herself. Only a couple more minutes than I’ll get the check and leave. She grabbed her phone. He was fortyfive minutes late. She sighed again and downed her glass of wine. That was it. She was leaving and she’d talk to Tamlin tomorrow no matter what. If he wouldn’t answer the phone she’d go and search for him. She knew where his office was.

The door opened and closed, the soft bell chiming. A handsome man had walked in. The most handsome man she had ever seen. His violet eyes looked around the room until they found hers. That’s not Tamlin what does he want? A lazy smile creeped up the guys face before he loudly exclaimed: “Hello, Darling. Sorry I’m late. Traffic is crazy right now.” He sat down in the chair in front of her. Quitly he added “I’m Rhysand. Just go with it, okay? Whoever didn’t bother to show up is a tool? Who would waste such a beautiful girl and such a beautiful dress.” A small smile krept her way onto Feyre’s face. She looked around and crossed eyes with Lucien. He shook his head and grabbed his own phone. Later hers buzzed. The message on screen read a simple message: Tamlin hates this man. Send him away before we get a brawl and or Tamling fires/kills me. Feyre scoffed and didn’t bother answering it before she put it in her purse. She wasn’t going to waste a beautiful dress, like the man before her, Rhysand, had said. This dress was expensive and if that man wanted to have dinner with her she would. The violet eyes where familiar but not familiar enough. She would remember if she saw a man like Rhysand on the street, not?

“I’m Feyre,” she quietly said. “I hope you like white wine, I ordered a bottle at the beginning of the evening.” Rhysand nodded and waved the waitress over.

“How long ago was the beginning of your evening, Feyre?” She blushed as the waitress reached the table. She took a long time looking Rhysand over, not even looking at Feyre, but Rhysand wasn’t looking at the waitress, he was focused on the young woman in front of him. “You’ve already read the menu. I’ll just have what you’re having.”

Feyre ordered for both of them before looking the man over once more. “Why are you doing this?” She asks. Rhysand looks taken aback before regaining his posture.

“I saw you sitting on your own when I walked towards the store next door, you’re still sitting here now. If I could I’d punch the guy. If only cheff didn’t restrain-” He stopped mid sentence when the waitress came back. He thanked her before looking down at his food. “Good choice,” he said.

“Do you need anything?” The waitress asked. Rhysand looked up for a second to witness the straining buttons on her blouse and the battering eyelashes than his gaze shifted to Feyre.

“No, thank you. Would you like anything, darling?” She shook her head and watched as Rhysand waved a hand to send the waitress on her way.

“What is your job?” Feyre asked raising an eyebrow. She took a bite of her chicken but her eyes didn’t stray from the muscular man.

“I don’t know if you want to know.”

“If you had finished your sentence I wouldn’t have to ask.” Rhysand shrugged and took a swig of his wine. “Please, it’s important to me to know what you do.” It’s important to know if Tamlin would kill you for sitting at this table but since you seem to know him…

“You’re Tamlins girlfriend, right?” Rhysand asked. Feyre nodded. She should break up with him but she didn’t know what the consequences would be. If she would be killed for it or if he would let her go at all.

“Lets see for how long he still wants me,” she murmured. “If I could though.”

Rhysand smiled and than frowned. “It would be dangerous to quit.”

“I know.” She looked him right in the eyes. “I’ve been through worse.”

“I know.”

“But how do you know, Rhysand?” She sat straighter up. How does he know all of that? He doesn’t looks like a mob lord. He didn’t even seem dangerous. How does he know all that about her.

“I know that you’ve lost even more weight since I’ve last seen you. Don’t understand me wrong, you still look beautiful but you’re getting too thin.” Feyre shook her head. He wasn’t telling her. Why would she stay with him. She was going to raise her hand for the check when he spoke up again.

“I’m sorry for the other girls in that building but I’m glad that I at least got to save you. You deserve to live and you deserve better than that tool. You deserve all the riches he promised you but never gave.” She gulped and look down at the table cloth. Her blue eyes refused to meet his till he raised her head with a finger under her chin. He squeezed her fidgeting hands with one of his callused once. “You deserve this, Feyre and if you want to get out I’ll make sure you’re safe.” She pulled his finger away and looked at her food again, stoicly eating.

“Thank you, Rhysand but I love him. I’m staying.” For her sisters and for herself. As long as she stayed with Tamlin they would be taken care off. Another deep breath and she saw Rhysand was also eating again. “You can be my company tonight, but tomorrow I’ll be his again.”

“You are nobody’s property, Feyre. You are your own person with your own choices.” She snickered.

“Do you have siblings. He doesn’t only takes care of me. He takes care of all of us. I’m grateful to Tamlin.”

“It sounds like your in debt.” She glared at him and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

“If you can only insult my lifes choices you can always leave.” Feyre ignored the fluttering in her heart. She ignored the blood rushing near her ears. She loved Tamlin but this was living. “Or you can stay and live the night with me, if that’s okay wiht you.”

“Do you ever feel alive, darling?” He took her casting her eyes down as a no. “I’ll make you feel alive. I’ll keep you safe tonight. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” They smiled and the conversation shifted. To hobbies, none for Feyre since she was kidnapped and family, Rhysand had lost his whole family. They talked about everything that came tonight and not once did either Tamlin or Rhysand’s job come up again. At the end Feyre felt her heart beating faster in her chest and if she hadn’t loved Tamlin she was sure she’d kiss the violet eyes man. She wanted to see him again after that night. Needed to see him again.

After a small discussion Rhysand paid for their meals, helped her into her coat and led her outside, all the way to her appartment.

He stood half a foot away. “Be sage, Feyre and if things with Tamlin go awry you can always come to me. I’ll help you.” Feyre smiled and looked into his violet eyes. His hair as dark as the night shining in the moonlight.

“That would be great, Rhys. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She opened the door but stopped at the threshold. “Why did you say that you saved me, that night?”

“I’m the cop that pulled you out of there. I held you in my arms till the ambulance came. I fought for you to live, don’t let that be in vain. Don’t let that tirant pull you down. Tamlin threatened to kill me if I ever touched you again. At least that was on the note attached to my coat. Let him try. As long as you’re safe.” Tears shone in light blue eyes as she stepped out of her home, placed a soft lingering kiss on his cheek and whispered in her ear,

“Thank you.” She stepped back into her home and repeated it. “Thank you, Rhys. I’ll call you tomorrow or you can come by at seven for dinner.”

“I’d love too.” He watched as she closed the door. “Sleep well,” he spoke softly. He sighed, smiled and walked to his own place. He would give her time to heal, time to make up her mind. Time to find out what Tamlin really was to her.

Part 2

#feysand #Feysand fluff #acotar #modern au #acomaf #sarah j maas

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markmceachran · 4 years

Text

Hope

To complete the illusion of dropping off the prisoners somewhere near the cauldren they returned in the late evening, and flew in from the west. Night flying was something that Angel generally avoided, but he had managed to coax his onboard radar to life for the short, circuitous flight from the airport to the city.

She was quiet during the flight and just enjoyed the darkness in the air. It was a new experience being up in the machine at night. With no light coming from anywhere it was like floating in nothingness, an almost nonexistence experience. She tried to let the day fall away, to meditate in a way. It was a welcome escape from the conflicting feelings that were to come.

The hum of the engines filled her body and clouded her mind with white noise. She breathed. Bumps and shudders buffeted their journey and served to reset her thoughts when they started to wander. With her desires sated earlier that day, she had nothing but peace on the flight to the city.

* * *

Landing was also tricky without an illuminated pad to drop down on. Once down he festidiously brushed down the booms and checked over his machine as he always did. The new bird had a couple of extra filters and the fluid lines were less stock than his previous machine. He had to borrow a lot of parts to get this one up in the air, so things were odd. It worked fine, and in fact had greater range than his old one. Still, he missed the old bird. It had served him well, as it served everyone in his life now.

Hope, still quiet, went on ahead to the bar. The idea of walking in with Angel gave her a weird sensation that she wasn’t entirely clear about. Side by side with this man, this brother that she just bedded not a few hours ago brought on some sort of guilt or thought of an obviousness that would be apparent to everyone looking on. They wouldn’t know, of course, but did they suspect, had they always? She didn’t know, and didn’t want to enter the room alongside him. They were not together, they shouldn’t be seen as such.

She wondered about him anyway, on the walk to the building. If they were together, would that be normal, could she be normal, was there a point to being normal in the afterworld? She felt as though she was more useful the way she was, a passionate killer. Briefly she was disgusted with herself as she thought about executing the men that day, but that feeling was quickly subdued with the strange, erotic tingle that had accompanied the event. Her thoughts shifted to the sex with Angel and how complete it made her feel.

Making a deal with herself, she decided that she was going to stop killing, stop fucking, just stop. It was just too weird. Celibacy, this, she decided, was her normal. She would work in the garden, or the hospital, training herself to gain pleasure from those things. Maybe it wouldn’t bring her the same joy, but she wouldn’t have to think about being looked at in that way that made her think they knew. She wouldn’t have to live thinking she was a freak who gets off on killing. The message in the sand, that wasn’t just a message to The Dragon. It was something she was trying to tell herself. NO MORE.

* * *

Jim and Cindy were waiting at a table off to the side when Hope entered the bar. She was met with cheers and applaus that she begrudgingly accepted. These people, they didn’t know what happened, they didn’t know she had defied their orders and her mother’s wishes. The accolades only served to bombard her with guilt and she sulked over to the table to get out of the spotlight.

Her hands were shaking a little. Jim settled one of them with his and said, “Hey, thank you for carrying out their sentence. You don’t have to think about it anymore. It’s done.” Jim had no doubt that she had killed the men, but chose his words in an effort to maintain the appearance that she had simply sent them into exile.

Hope now wished she had waited for Angel so that he could deflect some of the attention away from her. The odd sensation of walking in with him would have been miles better than standing alone before her mother with a monumental lie buried deep in the pit of her stomach. Maybe he would have pulled out the asshole version of himself and taken the brunt of the attention that she felt now centered on her from every corner of the bar. Most of the women would have nothing but praise for her having killed those men, but she still felt their stares as if they knew the truth, but were still angry that she betrayed her own mother. It was compounded by the guilt of taking such pleasure in the act. Was she out of control? Did her bloodlust drive her to kill them, or was it enough that it was the logical thing to do. Both sides of her were aligned to do it, but to take such pleasure made the lie all the more horrific.

“Thank you, Jim. I was the logical choice,” she said with a little quiver in her voice. “Do you actually serve drinks here?” She wondered if a real drink would settle her nerves and conflicted emotions.

“Of course!” Jim laughed, and went to the bar to fetch a bottle.

Hope couldn’t bring herself to look at her mother. She stared down at her hands on the table, not knowing what to say, if anything.

Cindy wasn’t sure how to let her daughter off the hook. She knew that her wishes were not carried out, but she also knew that Hope did the right thing, the logical thing, the best thing she could have done for everyone, including her. In a way, Hope was the one who let her mother off the hook. She did her the greatest favor, letting her maintain her principles.

“Daughter,” Cindy said, “you will always be that to me. I will love you no matter what,” and smiled. She placed her hands over Hope’s.

“Mother, I –” Hope couldn’t think of anything to say. Her stomach was full of conflict.

“You don’t have to think about it anymore, like Jim said. It’s all done, they’re gone.”

In her mind Hope went back to flying in the darkened sky to recapture anything of that peace that she could. Her mother’s words hadn’t yet struck her, but the tone was enough to settle her a little. She breathed a deep breath and closed her eyes, nodding as she exhaled having subconciously heard her mother’s intent.

Jim returned with a bottle of bourbon and four shot glasses. “I assume the other kid is showing up soon,” he said.

“He was polishing his bird when I left him,” Hope blushed, not intending to make a euphemism wiht her attempt to lighten her own mood. Her body warmed rapidly as her thoughts reached back to the hangar and she feared that her mother could somehow read her mind. Her heart sank.

She tried to grin it off to her mother and Jim and just when she had the sense of her regained composure, the man himself walked through the door. Cheers and applause greeted him, just as they had greeted her. He gave a modest nod toward the crowd of women gathered around the bar and made his way directly to the table.

“What did I miss?” He asked.

“Nothing yet,” Jim said, not really wanting to rehash any of the conversation to that point. Hope was grateful for that.

He poured out four glasses of unmodified Louisville bourbon, grabbed one and raised it into the air just below eye level. Taking a deep breath, he paused to search for the words.

“You three,” he stopped again and choked up.

Hope was grateful that the attention was off of her, however, she could see that Jim was really struck by something he was trying to say. She grabbed her glass and raised it up to meet his. Angel and Cindy did the same.

Jim’s eyes welled up with tears.

Cindy stepped in to finish Jim’s thought for him, “To family.”

* * *

The End

The post Hope appeared first on Mark McEachran.

https://j.mp/3f40CjT December 14, 2017 at 08:30AM

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