#The Path of Duty

[lifewithaview]

Upstairs, Downstairs (1971) The Path of Duty

S1E4

It's May 1905 and Elizabeth Bellamy returns home after attending finishing school in Germany. At 17, she is attractive and has a keen mind with a variety of interests whether it be literature, art or politics. She is pleased that Rose is to be her personal maid but is not necessarily looking forward to attending an upcoming ball where she will 'come out' and be introduced to the King and Queen. Everyone at 165 Eaton Place is working to ensure that her grand evening is a memorable one but at the ball she is bored not only with the company but with the empty-headed girls around her. Refusing to act the part, she disappears just before she is to be presented.

*Shot in black-and-white because of a labour dispute with technical unions.

[felassan]

What kind of spirit do you think Felassan waz?

Swag

[last-starry-sky]

kinktober day 27 - bare // public sex

könig x f!military!reader pt. 2 (pt. 1 HERE)

[MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 1.9k 💀, forced/shared sleeping situation, wet dream nippleplay, power imbalance: König is reader's Colonel, also the large height/weight difference, hairy König, DUBCON/NONCON: public sex, unprotected piv, cumming inside.]

tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!): @slut-lmao, @mishaglass

a very special shout out to mishaglass and @kakakkasstuff for requesting a part 2!

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm over the next few days. 

König would wake before you, stoke the fire up from last night��s embers, and put on water to boil for washing and coffee. After you washed and cooked breakfast, you would both break camp, silently set at your own tasks until you regrouped to head out. You would lead the way along the trail while König kept an eye out for any easy game. This forced almost total silence between you as your partner kept his sniper’s eyes and ears trained on the woods around him. You didn’t mind. As the days dwindled on and supplies became lighter, hunting was going to become less a luxury and more a necessity. 

Once you found your next campsite, you would set up the tent and, if König was busy gutting and skinning whatever he’d shot, you’d get the fire going as well. Finally, as the sun set, you would gather around the fire to cook and eat. The last couple of nights, he had begun initiating conversation with you. It was just little things, questions about your previous tracking and trail experiences, how much ammo you had left. Small things, anything to break the blanketing silence of crickets, silverware scrapping against plates, the crackling fire as night pulled in darker and darker around you. 

After washing the dishes and packing away your supplies for the night, came the part of the day you’d come to love and dread. König was always in your (now permanently) shared sleeping bag first, stripping down to a t shirt and briefs before you came in to do the same. You would shuffle over to your side of the tent, still bundled in your base layer and thick socks, hands cupped over your icy nose, as you tried not to think of the warm, bulky body spreading out next to you. 

Warm and hairy, you thought, rolling over on your side to hide your burning face despite the darkness. I wonder how that feels, having more than a happy trail to rub against your-

“Goodnight, maus,” König would mumble, stretching out his arms behind his head as he drifted off.

“‘night,” you would answer, choosing not to take issue with the new nickname he’d given you. It was better than half the shit you’d been called before. 

Then, as every night before, spurred on by thoughts of what the rest of his body could look like under those compression shirts and khakis that fit just so deliciously tight across his ass: you’d fall into a restless sleep. Haunted by dreams that felt so real but when you woke, you were left with nothing but scattered snippets that made you blush to remember. 

Rough, scarred lips mouthing kisses down your breasts.

Fingers toying with the other while you writhed impatiently, waiting and waiting, until finally your nipple was sucked into his mouth, teeth teasing as he pulled away. 

You gasped, another gentle kiss tickling your areola with little prickles of facial hair.

“So needy, maus,” he whispered, tweaking the breast in his other hand, forcing a shiver. 

You’d woken like this three days in a row now: alone in the tent, sweat paradoxically slicking your body and panties plastered to your body. You huffed, scrubbing the sleep from you eyes, mentally readying yourself to start the cycle all over again.

“Let’s stop here for the day. What do you think about that?” König asked as you stopped to rest next to a shaded, waterfall fed pond.

A part of you was too tired to fight him even though you still had a few more miles to your next spot. This place felt like paradise, though and you were loath to leave it, but you had to play the devil’s advocate. 

“If we stop now,” you said stopping to chew on your jerky, the action taking most of your sapping energy, “we won’t make our next stop, or the one after. Wouldn’t look good for us.”

“We can . . . wake early,” he suggested. “Break camp. No breakfast. Hike through lunch, dinner, whatever is needed,” he said skipping a stone across the cool, rippling water. He juggled a second in his hand while he watched the first come to stop, sinking into the deep water toward the middle with a plop. “There’s fish. Could catch some for dinner,” he added quietly.

You gave in, throwing your last bit of jerky his way. König set about rigging together a fish trap with it for bait. You didn’t let yourself think about the hard-pressed hike you’d need to make for the next couple days to make up for a lazy day today as you set up the tent. You had just finished when König wadded out of the water, pants wet up to his thighs. 

“Cold?” you asked with a smirk. He shook his head, looking for where he had left his boots, helmet, and veil. 

“Perfect,” he responded, water dripping off him as he walked along the stony shore to his equipment. “Wash up, if you want. Probably won’t get another chance.”

Floating in the middle of the pond, the peaceful sound of birds and water filling the air around you, you could almost forget who and where you were. The water was a little colder than König had sold it. Your pebbled nipples were enough evidence of that. Fresh water caressing your skin was worth it, though. Anything was better than another quick scrub down in the dark with cold, leftover water. 

As you soaped your hair, you realized that you’d forgotten all about your partner. You let the bar float across your sudsy vision, bobbing along in your little waves, as you listened. You heard a branch crash behind you. You swung around too quickly, slipping, losing your balance on the stones beneath your feet. You saw only a frame of König stepping out of the treeline as you crashed below the water.  

Your head was below the water for only a second before you were violently pulled back into the air. You sputtered, hands wiping hair and water from your face, as a pair of strong arms struggled to contain your wet, wriggling, form. 

“It’s me. It’s me. Just me, maus,” König said, his hands shaking as he tried to soothe you as he slowly waded back to shore. 

“Put me down!” you screeched, but it was muffled as you hid your face in your hands. 

He did as you asked, setting you on the soft grass beneath a tree. His hands remained on your waist as you shivered, eyes focused squarely on your bare feet stood between his massive boots. Neither of you said anything for a while, only listening to the water sprinkle off of König’s clothes. 

“Got me wet, maus,” he said flatly, half a smile crinkling his cheek as he slaked off a sheet of water from his stomach.

“S-s-sorry!” you squeaked, intent on telling him how you were fine, maybe giving him a piece of your mind for making the poor decision to dive in after you fully clothed.

He chuckled as he stripped his shirt over his head, throwing it to the side, revealing his hairy chest to your wide-eyed stare. It was a dark chuckle that had your stomach dropping. You knew that sound. You’d heard it somewhere, you just knew it. Unfortunately, your brain was too busy darting over the whorls of dark hair across his pecs, eyes following the water dripping down his toned torso, hair spackled into the creases of his abdomen as it trailed down into his pants. 

“Now I’m wet like you,” he said unbuckling his pants.  

Your mouth fell open as his khakis fell to the ground. He stepped closer to you as he steeped out of his pants, arms crowding you up against the rough bark of the tree. Both of you looked down when his chubbed cock rubbed a cold, wet, smear across your thigh. König grabbed at his clothed erection with a groan before looking back down at you. 

“Still wet? Like that little pussy you make me listen to every night?” he said shucking his briefs off just enough to free himself, hips tilting forward to tease the head through your folds.

“Colonel!” you gasped, hands reaching out to grab at the powerful, corded muscle of his arms. 

“No no, maus,” he chided. 

Then, in a flash, he had scooped up under your knees to pin you to the tree, your pussy spread open and ready. He only had to step forward and ease you down, spearing you open. You threw your head back, hair catching on bark, as his girth pushed slowly into you. He was bigger than even your dreams had made him out, big enough to sting as he stretched you open, enough to make you cry.

“König!” you cried, arms scrambling to lock around his neck as he started to pump into you. “Please! Slow- slow down!” You only managed to get a word out at the top of every stroke as he punched your breath from you. “Too big!”

He stopped with a groan, letting you sheath yourself completely around him. You whined and squirmed the whole way down. He flexed his hands on the undersides of your knees, watching the way your cunt clenched and drooled uselessly around him before he looked at you again. 

“Make me listen to this every night,” he repeated slowly, chest heaving as he caught his breath. His hairs tickled your breasts as he breathed, making you shudder and whine. His strong arms lifted you up fractionally before lowering you just as slow. There was no mistaking the soft squelching between you for anything else. 

“Listened to you . . . cry out for me,” he said with a whimper as he lifted you again. The motion knocked perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you, forcing sharp cry as he fucked you back down on his cock. “Get up . . . in the morning . . . like nothing happened. Shiβe, mäuschen,” he said, bowing his head down suddenly to your ear. “Too tight. Been . . . too long,” he said panting, “Not . . . not going to last.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck tighter, holding him to you. His short thrusts were nailing you perfectly on the inside, and his abs were flexing in just the right position to rub against your clit. You were so so close. The least he could do was give you this.

“Fuck,” you cried into his chest, “König, please.”

He nodded, head ruffling the hair at your temple, whining in your ear as he fucked slowly up into you once, twice, three- and then you were bowing away from him, cumming so hard only the downward force of his hands kept you in place. The violent clench of your pussy caught him off guard. You thought you heard him choke as he slammed up into you, his own orgasm hitting him like a truck. 

He held you to the tree, cock somehow pulsing larger than it already was as he deposited spurt after spurt inside you. Then, there was nothing but the sound of you both catching your breath, the birds chirping, and the soft fall of water. 

When he pulled from you, he didn’t just leave you to fall. He scooped your limp body up in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he walked you over to the tent. His boots squished under his feet the whole way.

“Will make it up to you in a bit,” he said, laying you down on top of the sleeping bag. “Let me recover. Then I will treat you. Can make those sweet noises for me then, yes?”

[pampanope]

HI I was just wondering what do you think Adler's react was to graves joining the marine corps?

Hahaa oh god I can hear the exasperated disappointment in his voice XD military branches are notorious for their rivalries

“Really, son? The crayon munchers?”

“Don’t you gimme that! You army guys were eating claymores back in ‘Nam. That’s why we got ‘Do Not Eat’ warning labels all over ‘em.”

Adler would’ve been perfectly fine with whatever his son chose (but he has his preferences lol). But did it have to be the Marines??

(He made sure to show up at Phillip’s graduation in the sweltering heat, with pride in his chest)

[starry-skies-writes]

I keep thinking of Viren

How in his final moments, he still had to do Dark Magic, something he wished to put behind him since it caused him and his family so much pain that it broke him and his daughter and, just his family APART.

How in his final moments, he tried to save his son while suffering sacrifice, as he’d done once before.

How in his final moments, he sacrificed himself for the kingdom, as he should’ve done once before.

“I—am a servant. I am a servant.”

His words finally ring true.

[dykedivorce]

moiraine has been consistently hot throughout all episodes, even when her wig was having the worst time of her life, but the scene I keep thinking about is "I will let a thousand innocent people die if there's even a chance that [Rand] will live". 😳 yes girl tell us that you're not doing this because you're fundamentally Good as a character but because you're obeying your Core Principles and you believe in a greater good that has a price you're willing to make everyone pay 😳😳😳 can we fu

[pinetreepilgrimage]

Starlight (4/6)

[ladysouthpaw1213]

a brief summery of my Bell’s bio in BO6(this is following the bad ending timeline of Black Ops 2)

visual reference for 1991 appearance created by Bikosi’s Neka C.C: Click

Bio: In 1990,Natalia Alder is forced to go on the run along with her Husband Russell, after being falsely accused of what happened in Panama(her past did not help matters). After leaving their children Andrei and Lana with a trusted ally of theirs for safety, Natalia works to clear her and Russell’s names and find out who framed them. She is introduced to the Team at the safehouse expecting them. You usually find her working on ciphering or photography when not on missions. Even after her and the rest of the Rook Team were cleared of treason and reinstated to their former ranks into the CIA after the events of the game, Natalia still has trust issues towards them(she always had due to what happened in 1981, but this just added on to them). Their house(despite it being untouched since they fled as someone watched over it for them) still feels like a ghost to her after being on the run for 11 months and finally being able to return home

1991 safehouse outfit

1991 tactical outfit

Visual reference created by Kyoumeikaitou’s Neka C.C: Click

quotes:

(Asking why she’s called Bell) it’s a nickname given to me by Russell

(Asking if something on her mind)”Oh, it’s just I’ve been thinking of Andrei and Lana”

(Asking about her history with Russell)” it’s complicated”

(Asking about the orange neckerchief she wears on missions)”It belong to someone dear to me”

(When asked about a certain plot reveal in BO6)” I’m used to it”

[insignificant457]

Thinking about the fact that sevro is a carvers creation too.

“We went to a carver to see if we couldn’t make ourselves some magic. We did.”

Sevro, just like Darrow, is created in a lab, but their purposes are completely different. Darrow is created as a machine of war, his whole purpose after being saved by the sons of ares is to infiltrate and tear down the gold machine. He can’t separate himself from this war, because his purpose is not yet fulfilled.

Sevro, on the other hand, is created out of the love his parents have for each other. And when his mother is killed his father starts this revolution, and he does it in big part for him. It’s no coincidence that the organization fitchner starts is called the sons of ares. In sevros life, the war hasn’t just been about tearing down the society, it’s about the possibility of what comes after. The possibility is own birth represents.

I think iron gold and dark age really highlight the differences between their individual philosophies. You can see it in the fact mustang says she’d like to retire with Darrow and their children, plural, despite the fact that in ten years they’ve only got the one (who certainly wasn’t planned). Meanwhile sevro and victra have had three and another on the way in that intervening time. You can see it in the way Darrow continually struggles to pull himself away from the war, while sevro is able to compartmentalize and prioritize his family when he’s home. You can see it in the sevros palace chapter in dark age, when Darrow says sevro “didn’t close his mind to his family before battle, because he knew they did not make him weaker, they made him stronger than he was by himself.”

Darrow can’t start living life for himself until his purpose is fulfilled, while sevros purpose has always been that very life, so he finds a way to fit it in.

So in the end, it’s not surprising that when it comes down to it, Darrow chooses his army and sevro chooses his family. It’s not about one of them being right and one of them being wrong. It’s about what they were created for.

[martuzzio]

Drilling cavalry formations (or in Gaz's case, being diplomatic to annoying guests) is exhausting. When the trio gets enough down time to hang out, they like to lounge under the old oak tree in the castle gardens.

Check out more Medieval 141 here

[thedupshadove]

Horatio and Ophelia are never confirmed as being in a scene together, and do not share so much as a single line of dialogue.

[the-lord-of-the-things]

Yee-Fuckin-HAW BABY

[elucubrare]

My story, "Lead But to the Grave," is live now at kaleidotrope.net! A deified empress wrestles with her new divinity, and with what comes after divinity fades.

[femmefitz]

There were a few parts of the Tawny Man trilogy that felt like Robin Hobb was trying to gaslight me about how much sense it made for Fitz to stay the hell away from the Farseers for some time.

Like respectfully ma'am I don't think Nighteyes would tell her she was failing her family by refusing to be in service to them. Nighteyes is flawed as any other character but I think as someone who shared a mind with Fitz he simply Would Not Say That.

[smowyashe]

Hesh: Wait where did you get c4?

Kit: I'm a navy diver, I know my way around demolitions

Hesh: That doesn't answer my question

Kit: ...

Hesh: Kit-

Kit: Oh hey! Look! Some poor unsuspecting federation soldiers! Let me just-

*sounds of explosions*

Merrick, over comms: KIT THIS IS A FUCKING STEALTH MISSION