#cold mountain soundtrack

[dijidweeeb]

Motivational Music in the Morning ... #JackWhite (#WhiteStripes), #GreatHighMountain ... #ColdMountain #OST [Official Lyric Video] (2003) #RalphStanley #Cover (1971) #MMitM1

[hauntingsoundtracks]

The Hobbit : An Unexpected Journey

Directed by Peter Jackson (2012)

Misty Mountains, composed by Howard Shore, performed by Richard Armitage and the Dwarf cast

[agaypanic]

His Good Girl (Carlisle Cullen X Vampire!Wife!Reader Smut)

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Request Something! | AO3

Kinktober Day 3: Praise Kink

Summary: For your one hundredth wedding anniversary, Carlisle takes you to a cabin in the mountains away from your children and the prying eyes of Forks citizens. The days are beautiful, but the nights are far more pleasurable.

A/N: ignore that im posting day 3 on the 23rd…. Im so behind omfg ANYWAYS i know vampires technically cant get hard or probably cum or wtv bc they don’t have bloodflow but this is a kinktober fic so idgaf. i know a thousand years is in twilight soundtrack, but i like the song and think it fits so pretend it/christina perri exists in this universe. Tbh this feels more like a real fic than a kinktober fic (not saying kinktober fics aren’t real fics. I just feel like kinktober stuff really focuses on the sex/kink and i feel like this is more of a fluff that ends in smut)

C/W: oral (fem!receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex (they're vampires so they cant get pregnant or diseases but wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, body worship, rough sex

***

“Carlisle, dear, I can pack my own suitcase.” But you did nothing to stop him from meticulously folding your clothes and putting them in your bag. Instead, you sat on the edge of the bed and watched him work. 

Your husband looked up, a smile appearing on his lips. “And yet, you sit and watch me pack it for you.”

“What can I say?” You said with a shrug. “I like watching your skilled hands be put to work.”

“Oh really?” Carlisle seemed to suddenly forget the task he was previously so focused on. He walked over to you, letting the cold hands you loved so much cup your face gently. “Just wait for this weekend. Then you’ll really see how skillful they are.”

You giggle, pulling at his waist and leaning up to kiss him. “I can’t wait.”

It wasn’t long before you were finished loading up the car and ready to leave. Carlisle had to practically drag you away when your goodbyes with the kids went on a little too long. But you couldn’t help it. Not only did you love your children dearly, but you needed to give them all (mainly Emmett and Edward) to behave while you and Carlisle were gone. Although they were tremendously older than their young adult bodies, they sometimes acted just as recklessly as teenagers. 

The drive to the cabin was long and peaceful. Carlisle let you handle the music, and although he kept his eyes on the road, he smiled at the sight of you passionately singing along with every song out of the corner of his eyes. 

You arrived in the afternoon, and your husband insisted on carrying your bags inside for you, allowing you to wander around the cabin you came to for special occasions. It followed a less modern aesthetic, mainly because getting a good internet connection so far from civilization was a little difficult. It reminded you of when you were first married to Carlisle.

“Why don’t you pick out a record?” Carlisle said from the bedroom, raising his voice a little so you could hear him down the hall, despite your enhanced hearing. 

You walked over to the small shelf that was filled to the brim with different genres and eras of music. You opted for something more modern, so you pulled out a Christina Perri vinyl and put it on the player.

The first track was one that you knew all too well, and it seemed Carlisle remembered it just as well when it hit his ears. Deciding that unpacking could wait, he left the bedroom and approached you. When he got close enough to grab you, he started leading you in a slow dance around the living room. And when Christina sang about loving someone for a thousand years, Carlisle kissed you deeply before making a comment about how he couldn’t wait for the thousand-year mark.

***

When your anniversary came the next day, you and Carlisle didn’t do much. Besides being slightly more affectionate than usual and exchanging presents, it seemed like a normal day for you two. But you cherished it like any other day you spent with your husband. 

The only time Carlisle strayed from you today was to go outside and hunt for dinner. He came back in record time with two wine glasses filled with red liquid and a few smudges around his mouth that he let you kiss off. Ushering you to the couch in front of the lit fireplace, he handed you a glass and used his now free hand to hold you close to him.

“To you, my dear.” Carlisle toasted, holding his glass up to you.

“And to you, darling.” You added, clinking his cup with your own. “To a hundred years.”

“And a hundred more.”

Hours had passed without you knowing. You were too wrapped up in Carlisle’s presence, the way he stroked your arm while he listened to you talk about whatever came to your mind. 

Eventually, your glasses were empty, and Carlisle set them on the small table in front of you before cuddling you again. You leaned into his touch, breathing his scent in. “I love your hands.” You muttered against his neck. The hands in question were either holding yours or gently massaging you.

“Oh, yeah?” He smiled, and you nodded. “You wanna see what else they can do?”

It felt like a switch had flipped, and suddenly, you were straddling your husband and kissing him like you’d been starved for a hundred years. He kissed back with the same sentiment, hands roaming and groping your body.

Carlisle broke away the slightest bit to speak. “As much as I’d love to take you right here, why don’t we move to the bedroom?” Without waiting for a response, he stood up, carrying you down the hall like it was nothing. You clung to him, kissing and lightly nipping at his neck.

When he reached the bedroom, Carlisle softly set you on the bed and started kissing you again. He towered over you, caging you in with his limbs.

But kissing, although very enjoyable, wasn’t enough for him. His hands started to roam again, and he began to play with the hem of your shirt. “May I?” He asked against your lips, and you nodded furiously. Carlisle peeled the shirt off of your body, and your bra was off soon after.

Without warning, he broke away from you. You were about to protest when his mouth latched onto your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. You moaned at the sensation, running a hand through his once pristine hair. He made sure to give the same treatment to the other.

“So beautiful.” He muttered, squeezing your tits with his hands and running his cold thumbs over your now stiff nipples. You mewled and arched your back. God, the things this man did to you. “So perfect.”

“Carlisle.” You whined. You couldn’t take anymore waiting, you needed him now. In desperation, you started moving your hips to try and rut against his thigh. He allowed it, giving attention to your breasts a little while longer while you used him to ease your need. But his thigh wasn’t enough. “Carlisle, come on.”

He looked up at you with a caring but mischievous look. “What’s the magic word?”

“Carlisle!”

“Nope.” The man smirked, slowly trailing kisses down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your pants. “Come on, dear. Where are your manners?”

“Please!” You cried out.

Carlisle swiftly started to unbutton your pants, tugging them down your legs. “There’s my good girl.” The little nickname just made you even wetter. Carlisle took off your panties, leaving you entirely bare for him. He stared down at you, taking in the image. He sighed, seemingly lost in thought. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

Ready to ravage you, Carlisle started to crawl on the bed towards you. But before he could get to the place he wanted most, you put your foot on his chest to stop him. A hand shot up to caress your ankle, and Carlisle started to worry that he was moving too fast for you without realizing it.

“Maybe you should take your clothes off too?” You suggested, giggling at his sigh of relief. Carlisle dropped your foot and stood up again, stripping in front of you. He did so as fast as possible without using superspeed, knowing you were desperate for him but would still enjoy the show.

“Better?”

“Better.”

You sat up, his stiff cock now at your eyeline. You reached out, wanting to grasp it, suck it, whatever he would let you do.

But Carlisle grabbed your wrist. “Now, what do you think you’re doing?” He asked, tone light enough to indicate that he wasn’t upset or serious.

“I want you to enjoy yourself.” You answer with a shrug. “It’s your anniversary too, you know.”

“You want me to enjoy myself?” He asked, gently pushing you until you were lying on your back. You nodded. “Then be a good girl and spread your legs.”

A tingle went down your spine at the command, and you immediately did as told. Carlisle grasped your ankles to keep your legs separated. He stared at your pussy, mouth watering at the thought of tasting you. He inched closer to you, hands running up your legs.

He didn’t waste another second. Carlisle pushed at your thighs to bring them to your chest and dove into your pussy, licking a broad strip through your slit before latching onto your clit. He groaned at the taste of you, sending chilling vibrations through your body. One of his hands splayed out at the back of your knees to keep your legs up, and he used his now free hand to prod at your entrance.

“You’re so wet, honey.” He cooed as he slipped a finger in, soon adding another. Carlisle began fucking you slowly, hooking his fingers on your g-spot and flicking at your clit with his tongue.

“More.” You moaned, squeezing his fingers. “Want your cock, Carlisle.”

Your husband tsked, taking his mouth off of you but continuing his ministrations. “Not til you come on my fingers, Y/n. You know the rules. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You whined, wanting nothing more than to be stretched and filled to the brim by your husband’s cock. But it warmed your cold heart that he was still cautious with you. 

“Then make me come.” You begged.

Carlisle took it as a personal challenge to make you finish as quickly as possible. He usually liked to take his time with you, but you were desperate. So Carlisle quickened his pace, added a third finger, flicked and sucked at your clit, and soon enough you were falling apart. You stiffened and let out a choked moan as Carlisle helped you ride out your high.

While catching your breath, Carlisle withdrew his fingers from you and cleaned your juices off with his tongue. The sound that came from him was almost animalistic. He looked at you as if you were his prey. “You’re so delicious.” He said, licking the remnants of your cum off of his hand. The way he was looking down on you made you even wetter.

Usually, Carlisle liked to start nice and slow, giving you time to adjust to his size before he began ramming into you. But tonight, he couldn’t control himself. He grabbed himself, swiping the tip of his penis through your slick folds to collect more of your juices before prodding your entrance and bottoming out in one swift motion. 

Then he started fucking you.

You were beyond grateful that you were staying in a cabin in the middle of the mountains because if someone were around, they would’ve thought you were being murdered. The headboard banged against the wall with the force Carlisle was using to fuck you. He held onto the backs of your knees, keeping your legs pinned to your chest and giving you shocks of pleasure with every hard thrust.

It was all too much, but in the best way. Carlisle fucking you roughly at an angle that you knew would make it difficult to walk for a while, despite you usually being able to recover from rough sex quickly. With the way Carlisle was acting right now, his panting and almost growling sounds, and his nails digging into your skin, you knew he wouldn’t be satisfied after one round.

“So good.” Carlisle groaned, leaning down to kiss at your neck. You pulled at Carlisle’s hair to try and ground yourself, but you were too far gone with the overwhelming pleasure. “Are you gonna come?”

“Uh-huh.” It came out as a high-pitched squeal, and Carlisle smiled.

“You can do it, honey.” While speaking, he snaked a hand down to rub at your clit, pace as rough and furious as his thrusts. “Want you to come. Be a good girl for me; go ahead.” 

It was like Carlisle had some kind of control over your body. As soon as the words left his mouth, you found your release. It was one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had. You were a bit surprised that you didn’t accidentally pull out Carlisle’s hair from how hard you were gripping the strands.

Carlisle continued fucking you at his rough pace, making you shake and cry out in pleasure. He didn’t stop, seemingly very focused on now reaching his own peak. The way your cunt gripped his cock certainly helped, and not long after you, he was shooting ropes of cum inside you, keeping up his thrusts to fuck it into you.

When he came down from his high, his movements slowed to a stop. He delicately moved your legs off your chest to lay on the bed, massaging any possible sore spots he may have given you.

“Was I too rough?” He asked, seemingly in a clearer headspace now.

You shook your head, reaching up to caress his face. “I liked it.” Carlisle sighed in relief, leaning down to kiss you. “Maybe we can do it again? Like, now?”

He laughed at your eagerness. “How about in five minutes?” He wrapped you up in his arms before flipping you over so you were lying on his chest. His cock was still hard inside you, filling you nicely. “I want to lay with my wife for a while.”

“I won’t argue with that.” You said, snuggling into Carlisle’s bare chest. “Happy anniversary, Carlisle.”

“Happy anniversary, Y/n.”

***

Twilight Taglist: @wedfan2 @natashamaximoff-69 @pink-hufflepuff

[dee-writes-angst]

SPRING (Chapter One)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY on a mission to discuss peace negotiations with the Illyrians, you find yourself in a tricky spot without your best friend. (part two is up)

CONTENT WARNINGS descriptions of injuries, pain, torture, depression, and misogyny. This one is dark, please ensure you are feeling comfortable and safe.

AUTHORS NOTE today I woke up and chose violence apparently. This fic is unbelievably long and It's been a while, so I thought I would appease you while I continue to work on the second part of the mark fic. I hope you all enjoy. <3

In the gentle embrace of spring, as nature stirred from its winter slumber, the world seemed to come alive in a symphony of sights and sounds. The air grew lively with vibrant colors of blossoming trees, their delicate leaves unfurling, whispering hope upon the wind. Each leaf and flower, each insect and animal all seeming to dance in the sunlight and bask in new chances of growth. It was truly a testament to beauty and resilience, to life.

But, amidst the beauty of renewal, there lingered a sense of sorrow, a deep heaviness that hung in the air like a dark cloud just breaching above the horizon. Spring had brough not only the promise of new beginnings, but a painful reminder for all that had been lost and forgotten. And as rain fell softly upon the earth, calling to mother nature to gift the soil with fertility, memories of pain consumed you. The gentle patter of raindrops against the earth did not serve to remind you of new beginnings, but set a somber soundtrack in your thoughts, a melancholy melody that echoed the ache you felt in your heart.

As pollen filled the air, coloring the wind and triggering allergies that left you sneezing and sniffling, you couldn't help but feel trapped within the confines of your own sorrow, isolated from the prospering world around you. Vibrant colors and sweet scents did nothing to comfort, rather building a prison of sorts, confining you to the memories of the person you once were, of the life you used to lead.

(Springtime, The Illyrian Mountains)

As you and Azriel ventured into the heart of the Illyrian steeps on a mission, the harsh terrain mirrored the cold, hardened demeanor of its inhabitants. The people of this unforgiving land, with their anger and hostility, were the only semblance of family you had ever known. Yet, their begrudging tolerance of your existence only fueled the resentment that simmered within you. How could you ever understand a people who would dare to strip you of your wings, your very essence of freedom, as a cruel display of dominance and worthlessness?

"Interesting how Rhys sends the two of us, who would sooner see the Illyrians burn, for peace negotiations," you remarked with a bitter chuckle, nudging Azriel to draw him from his thoughts. Azriel, your closest friend for three centuries, had become a steadfast companion since that fateful night when you first crossed paths with Mor at Rita's. Though the details of that encounter remained a blur, the bond forged between you and Azriel stood firm.

"Cass is stuck with Nesta. She’s been feeling off lately, she senses something stirring, but isn’t sure what. Elain shared her sentiments," Azriel grumbled, his countenance slipping into the stoic mask of the shadowsinger, overshadowing his gentle and kind-hearted nature that was generally reserved for you and the rest of your chosen family.

"So, Rhys sent the only other two Illyrians he knows. How convenient for us," you retorted, your wings instinctively folding in close as you navigated the lifeless streets of the Illyrian camp. By now, they had learned better than to challenge your presence for too long.

"Just stick close," Azriel advised, his voice tinged with caution. “There are still many men who wish to see you wingless and under their influence.”

You rolled your eyes and let out an exasperated huff but nodded in agreement. "Stubborn bastards," you muttered under your breath.

In hindsight, perhaps openly disparaging them while walking through their camp wasn't the wisest choice. But they were well aware of your disdain for them, just as you knew the depths of their animosity towards you. They had cast you out like prey when you were just a child, and you had since made it your life's mission to rise above them in every way possible. The mere thought of your superiority grated on them to no end, and you reveled in it.

Azriel chuckled softly, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. He nudged you back in the side as you approached Lord Devlon’s home, the both of you sharing a sullen look of understanding before Azriel knocked.

The response was immediate, Lord Devlon swinging the door open with a scowl that mirrored Azriel's own grim expression. "I don't care that you force us to let our women keep their wings," he spat, his tone dripping with disdain, "but I will not negotiate with one. Especially her."

Azriel's growl rumbled deep in his chest, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "I don’t give a fuck about your preferences," he snapped, his voice laced with barely restrained anger.

You sighed, your wings flaring behind you in agitation as you shot a withering glare at Devlon. Barely missing Azriel's own, which mirrored your movements, his solidarity unwavering.

Turning to Azriel, you spoke with a sense of resignation. "Go on. I'll catch up with Emerie and a few others."

Though reluctant to part ways, Azriel relented, “Fine,” he growled, knocking his forehead gently against yours. It was a gesture you both shared, a silent reassurance that you were never truly alone in the face of adversity. With a nod of encouragement, you turned and walked off Devlon’s steps, making your way back into town to seek solace in the company of the only Illyrian, aside from your bat boys, whom you found more than tolerable.

After sharing a drink with Emerie and catching up for a few hours, you felt a tug of responsibility urging you to check in on Devlon and Azriel. Yet, deep down, a part of you secretly hoped that Azriel had taken matters into his own hands and dealt with the pompous leader once and for all, though you dared not voice such thoughts aloud.

As you stepped outside, the tranquility of spring in the mountains enveloped you like a comforting embrace. The harsh winds of winter had given way to a gentle, cool breeze that whispered through the trees, carrying with it the promise of warmer days ahead. It was a peaceful scene, if one could ignore the harsh realities of life in this unforgiving land, and the unspeakable horrors inflicted upon its women.

You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to bask in the crisp, cool air, a stark contrast to the warmer weather of Velaris. But before you could fully immerse yourself in the tranquility of the moment, they struck.

It happened so quickly, the ambush catching you off guard. Before you could react, a blow to the back of your head sent you reeling, darkness descending upon you like a heavy shroud. In the blink of an eye, consciousness slipped away, leaving you vulnerable and defenseless against the unknown assailants. If you had had the chance to process the situation, perhaps embarrassment would have crept in at being caught off guard so easily. But the darkness of unconsciousness claimed you swiftly, dragging you down into its depths before you could even muster a response.

"Wake up, whore," a voice hissed in your ear, jolting you from the haze of unconsciousness. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to make sense of your surroundings, the harshness of the voice sending a shiver down your spine. Blinking against the darkness that enveloped you, you felt a heavy weight pressing down upon your head—a bag, thick and suffocating, that obscured your vision and when you moved—thrashed— against the seat you were in, you quickly realized that you were bound.

Shit.

The bag over your head muffled your senses, leaving you completely disoriented and vulnerable to your captors. Panic surged through you at this revelation, causing a sudden spark of energy to send you thrashing against your restraints, deep realization sinking in your stomach with sickening dread.

The voice that had startled you awake, one that sounded awfully familiar, chuckled darkly, a deep, cruel sound that sent shivers cascading down your spine. “No need to struggle, sweetheart,” he mocked, “you’re not going anywhere.”

Your heart hammered against your chest as you strained to make sense of your surroundings, to recognize even the slightest detail, but all you could make out was the stench of damp earth and mildew. Fear clawed its way down your throat, leaving deep gauges as you tried to keep your composure, to get out of this place, this nightmare, before it was too late.

“Where am I?” You growled, your voice heavy with defiance as you demanded your location, only a slight lilt of fear made its way past your throat.

“You're not the one making demands here,” he sneered, tone dripping with pure malice. He must have been an Illyrian. No one else would have the gall to try something like this, either too afraid of you, or too afraid of Azriel’s wrath. Just the thought of him filled you with a desperate longing, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume you.

As you struggled to piece together your next move, the sound of footsteps approached, echoing ominously in the darkness. You braced yourself for what was to come, steeling your resolve to survive whatever horrors awaited you.

The bag was roughly pulled from your head, and you blinked against the sudden onslaught of light, squinting to make out the figure before you. As your vision cleared, you found yourself face to face with your captor, Lyris, who you used to train with as a kid, his eyes cold and calculating as he loomed over you with a wicked grin.

As the realization of your fate settled like a heavy stone in your chest, Lyris approached, his steps deliberate and purposeful. He wielded a gleaming dagger in his hand, the cold metal glinting in the dim light of the chamber. Your heart hammered in your chest as fear gripped you like a vice, every instinct screaming at you to fight, to flee, but the chains binding you rendered you helpless.

With a cruel smirk, Lyris loomed over you, his eyes alight with sadistic delight. "Time to finally take what's mine, what those bastard whoresons took from me so many years ago," he sneered, the dagger poised menacingly in his grasp.

Your breath caught in your throat as the blade descended, slicing through the air with a sickening sound that made your blood run cold. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the searing pain that was sure to follow.

The first cut came swift and merciless, a sharp agony tearing through your being as the blade bit into your flesh. A strangled cry tore from your lips, the sound echoing off the walls of the chamber as your world exploded into a whirlwind of pain and terror.

“Look at these pretty wings,” Lyris hummed, his voice filled with the rasp of adrenaline. “I cannot wait to hang them on the wall of our home. To keep you quiet, pliant, and filled with my children; as you should have been from the start.” His voice, one you used to cherish, one that reminded you of the little boy who would sneak away to help you, to train you against the backs of his mentors, was now torture.

But the torment did not end there. With ruthless precision, Lyris continued to wield his blade, each stroke bringing fresh waves of agony that threatened to consume you whole. You writhed and thrashed against your restraints; your cries of anguish lost in the darkness of the chamber. Through tear-blurred vision, you caught a glimpse of your wings, once symbols of freedom and strength, now mangled, bloodied and broken beyond recognition. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you watched helplessly, the realization of your loss hitting you like a physical blow.

And as the last remnants of your wings fell away, severed and discarded like worthless scraps of flesh, a hollow emptiness settled in the pit of your stomach. You were no longer whole, no longer the person you once were. You had been robbed of your identity, your essence, and in their place remained only the cruel scars of your torment.

In the oppressive darkness of your captivity, each passing moment stretched into an eternity, the weight of your mutilation a relentless burden threatening to crush not just your body, but your very spirit. Bound and helpless, you lay upon the cold stone floor, every breath a labored struggle against the suffocating silence that surrounded you. The air itself felt heavy with despair, pressing down upon you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you gasping for air, for relief, for any semblance of hope.

Your limbs, once strong and nimble, now felt heavy and leaden, shackled by chains that dug into your flesh with cruel insistence, leaving angry welts in their wake. Each movement sent a jolt of searing pain shooting through your battered body, a constant reminder of the brutality you had endured.

Amidst the shadows that danced like malevolent phantoms in the night, a soft rustle of wings broke through the oppressive stillness, the whisper of shadows weaving through the air like an ancient, mournful melody. Your heart surged in your chest as a familiar presence enveloped the room, a warmth that banished the icy chill that had settled deep within your bones, offering a glimmer of solace in the midst of the suffocating darkness.

Azriel.

With a grace honed by centuries of training, Azriel moved with silent determination, his movements a symphony of lethal precision and raw emotion. Each step he took seemed to reverberate through the chamber, echoing the pounding of your heart as he closed in on your captors, his eyes burning with a fierce determination that bordered on desperation.

The sound of steel meeting flesh rang out like a mournful dirge, punctuated by the anguished cries of your assailants as they fell before Azriel's relentless onslaught, their tormentors becoming the tormented. The room erupted into chaos, the air thick with the scent of blood and sweat as Azriel moved with a fluidity that bordered on otherworldly, his wings unfurling like a dark, protective cloak as he danced amidst the shadows. It was a sight to behold, a dance of death performed with a grace and precision that belied the brutality of its execution, a testament to the depth of his devotion and the strength of his love.

Through the haze of pain and fear, a surge of gratitude washed over you, a profound sense of relief that threatened to overwhelm your senses. As Azriel approached, his hand outstretched in silent invitation, you reached out to him, your fingers trembling with exhaustion and relief, your heart overflowing with a love and gratitude that defied words. In that moment, as his steady presence enveloped you, you knew that you were not alone in the darkness.

“Gods, what did they do to you,” Azriel breathed, his own hands shaking as he helped you to your feet, the weight of your brokenness heavy in his arms. You swayed unsteadily, a marionette with severed strings, before collapsing against him, the pain of your loss too great to bear alone.

“Did-” You are cut off by a hiss of pain, the sharp intake of breath a dagger through your chest. You took a moment to collect yourself, the darkness at the edges of your vision threatening to engulf you. Azriel, a bastion of strength in the storm, gently guided you to the cold stone floor, his touch a lifeline in the suffocating darkness. “Did you kill him?” you managed to choke out, the words heavy with desperation and fear, each syllable a struggle against the encroaching oblivion.

“Who?” Azriel's voice was a low rumble, his grip on your hand grounding you in the present moment, a beacon of stability amidst the chaos that threatened to consume you both. Outside the confines of your enclosure, the sounds of chaos echoed in the air, a symphony of violence and retribution made in your honor.

“Lyris. Did you kill him?” Your voice wavered, the weight of your words a burden too heavy to bear alone. You felt lightheaded, the loss of blood draining your strength with each passing moment.

“Lyris? He was here?” Azirel's growl reverberated in the cavernous space, a primal sound that sent shivers down your spine. He was the only one you confided in about your history with the Illyrian male, the scars of your past laid bare before him.

You sniffled and sobbed, the floodgates of grief finally breaking as you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of your wings in the safety of Azriel’s presence. His arms wrapped around you, a shield against the storm raging within you, offering solace in the face of unspeakable loss.

“My wings?” you asked through sobs, the words a whisper against the backdrop of your anguish.

“Not here.” He whispered mournfully, his voice a lament for all that had been taken from you. You felt yourself deflate further, the realization settling like a heavy stone in the pit of your stomach. Your once friend, now tormentor, had escaped with the remnants of your shattered dreams, leaving you broken and bereft in his wake.

In the aftermath of your rescue, the pain that gnawed at your soul was not just physical but a deep, unrelenting ache that seemed to permeate every fiber of your being. With each labored breath, you felt the absence of your wings like a gaping wound, a constant reminder of the brutality inflicted upon you.

As Azriel guided you through the darkness, his presence a flickering candle in the void, you stumbled and faltered, your body racked with tremors of agony. Each step sent shards of pain shooting through your mutilated form, a relentless onslaught that threatened to consume you whole.

The absence of your wings was not just a physical loss but a spiritual one, a cruel reminder of all that had been taken from you. Once a symbol of freedom and strength, they were now nothing more than cruel stumps, a mockery of what once was. With each beat of your heart, the pain pulsed like a funeral dirge, a haunting melody that echoed through the caverns of your soul. You longed to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all, but the darkness of your despair swallowed your cries before they could escape your lips.

And through it all, Azriel remained by your side, his presence a silent witness to your suffering. But even his steady presence could not chase away the shadows that threatened to consume you, leaving you adrift in a sea of despair.

As you emerged into the cool embrace of freedom, blinking against the harsh light of day, you felt a sense of emptiness wash over you—a hollow void that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The road ahead loomed dark and uncertain, a twisting labyrinth of pain and sorrow that threatened to swallow you whole.

[NEXT]

[sidecharactersdomatter]

Thoughts I had during TGCF S2 Ep 11

The last two reactions took a while, since I was doing a lot of sketching and writing a one shot after listing to the latest Epic livestream on Ytube now let’s get to it!

-Innocent children outside of the palace were spared from the Banquet’s massacre

-It’s the same elderly man from Ep 9!

-You know this Ep’s gonna be awesome once the animation’s upped it’s ante

-The CGI background effect!

-It’s the outer wall of Ba Sing se from ATLA Book 2 Earth, (subtle worldbuilding spoilers from The Scrap Immortal and the Avatar)

-Barren land outside of the wall…

-Hua Cheng’s wraith butterfly

-*takes a really deep inhale* HAAAAAAAH!  It’s the same butterfly from 5 Eps earlier who landed on Xie Lian’s palm as the others swarmed towards FX and MQ!  *Gasps again* He must’ve landed on XL’s hand because of the length he went to locate him in Yong’An’s area.  So if he failed to find him, the butterfly was exhausted, and since he was tired, he rested on Xie Lian’s hand

(I had to slip this in)

-Through the eyes of a butterfly

-It’s a tunnel!

-It’s the secret tunnel from ATLA Book 2

-Lang Qianqiu and Mengyou!

-He’s staked Fang Xin into his tomb

-The reason Qianqiu never removed Fang Xin’s mask is because he never knew who he was behind it all is life…

-What was that coffin cover made out of?!

-Back to Yong’An to finish grieving and keeping the kingdom in tact

-Getting staked in a stone coffin is a whole lot worse than being trapped in a Iceberg for a century

-The blood is spreading like vines and branches

-How long was he in that coffin???

-I can see why people in the fandom wrote fics about his recovery from the Yong’An crypt.

-Another intense and long cold opening

-“SAD CHILD!!!” still got chills from the last episode 

-Damn

-“NO!  It’s my fault!  Everything is my fault and I’ve only made it worse!” There’s that raw emotion

-Still want dessert after the delivery last episode.  Great!  Now I’m craving egg custard tarts and red bean buns, dim sum dessert!!!

-Hua Cheng took accountability for his actions

-He sat down next to him!

-“You did good” that’s exactly what I need to hear right now

-There’s always a cost

-Howard is still eating it up in the next ep!!!

-Comfort him!

-History’s still repeating to this day…

-Lian Cheng Ci’s playing again!

-It was no one’s fault!

-He finally removed his mask!

-XL had a chance to end An Le right there

-Thank you HC!

-No XL you’re not a worthless insect, I actually see you as more of an adorable rodent and so does Hua Cheng

-He destroyed the weeping statue!

-It took him that long to stop his breakdown???

-“As you wish” has James Cheek read the Princess Bride?

-Ghosts and Humans are fleeing the mountains

-And Qi Rong’s goons easily folded under Hua Cheng’s thumb

-Did anybody else hear Broadway from Gargoyles in the large purple goon? Kictor and Stitch said he sounded like Patrick Star

-Let’s just say Hua Cheng always does his homework right

-Aww the animation when Xie Lian caught up to the Crimson Rain

-Hong Jue once more!!! YEAH!!!

-They’re outside the mountain!

-His small laugh!

-“Idolizing someone for afar is understandable, but once you get close, when you really get to know them, that perfect image of them you made will shatter.  When that happens it just hurts.”  That is a really good and inspirational quote

-“For some the mere existence of a certain person in this world is hope.” Another great quote!

-“San Lang, who are you?” He said it so softly!!!

-“Don’t tease!” Oh yes he will~!

-He’s starting to realize!!!

-Whoever did this season’s soundtrack really deserves a raise

-They got cut off!

-Hi Qingxuan

-She’s so slay

-Hi Feng Xin

-Just imagine a montage of Qingxuan and FX trying to role the right number to XL’s location

-The way he summoned his arrow!

-It’s a standoff!!

-XL’s facepalm!

-HC just tugged his sleeve again!

-What’s she doing?

-Are they acting?

-The eye contact!

-He’s talking about Ming Yi

-You got that right on the rescuing, he carried XL off in style!

-Literally how you send an email and update in the online message board

-“She gets it” that means they’ve bonded

-QX gets close and FX moves like 6 feet back

-She knows his weakness

-And FX’s frantically waving his hand 

-The snap!

-*Qianqiu has left the chat*

-I know who the minor official is

-Even FX dissed Qi Rong

-It took him that long to realize???

-The family ties are really something, Qingxuan

-That anime spiral on the thumb!

-Hua Cheng roasted Feng Xin

-He is egging him on

-Hua Cheng roasted Heaven again

-Another standoff!

-Aiaigasa!  It’s Aiaigasa people!!!

-And Qingxuan casually backs up

-IT’S RAINING WET KETCHUP!!!

-Really weird weather they had tonight

-Now XL giggled!!!  It added 3 more years to my lifespan!

-FX looks like he got a bowl of marinara tossed over him

-Qingxuan it’s not a mop!!!  It’s a cultivator whisk!  It took me a long time to realize it when I bought the first novel

-You two aren’t helping!

-Have you seen HC help fix up your temple?

-He knows him so well!

One more Ep left!

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

John Price x Reader

Part One | Part Three

With your Captain at the brink of death and little supplies left to keep you covered, the two of you do what little you can to hold out and distract yourselves until help arrives.

TW//: Blood, Mentions of Death

Angst, Drama, Romance, Action, Suspense, Tense, Near Death Experiences, Confessions of Love, Light Fluff, Confessions, Light Bickering, canon inaccuracies probably, but hopefully not, slight character study, medical inaccuracies, I'm no nurse, I'm a film major :(, a mopey rollercoaster, but the ending is worth it hopefully

Word Count: 4.2k

Took me a few days to ponder what I wanted to do with this (I'm so indecisive), but at last, I finished. I wanted it to be sad, I'm not sure if I succeeded, but I promise it's not pointlessly sad (probably isn't even sad). Also, let me know if I should follow this up with a Part 3 (which would be the final part of this, might do it any way but if this was actually garbage I will keep it pushin'). Regardless, I had fun typing this, I felt rusty typing something actually angsty. I hope you enjoy! ( ㄕཀ ʖ̯ ཀ)

taglist: @tapioca-marzipan @spooky-pomegranate

Thank you again, I hope it was worth the wait (T^T)>

Stay awake. You tell yourself again and again -- stay awake. Don't succumb to the fatigue, ignore the pain in your arm, and keep your foot on the gas. It's either that or you lose Price right here and now.

You look over at your Captain after five more minutes had passed, with nothing but the rocky road and its hills ahead of you to keep you company. Price kept his pistol in hand and his tired blue eyes on the perimeter outside the convoy. He didn't have much to say anymore; it was taking all his energy just not to bleed to death.

His chest rises and falls with each heavy breath he forcibly conjured out of himself. By now his blood stained his seat, growing larger with each hill you've passed. Your Captain would be an angel already had you not found more supplies in the vehicle to temporarily patch him up with. Though he seemed adamant about staying alive, nonetheless.

The night sky darkens, and the road ahead demonstrates its need to be endless. Price had told you before that he had no intention of bleeding to death. You desperately want to believe him.

Clouds roll over the moon, which for a while had shared its glow alongside the headlights of your recently stolen convoy. Its absence only makes you feel more boxed in, placed behind the wheel with your dying Captain. The outskirts of Urzikstan appear an even less welcoming place than before. With its encompassing darkness, your fears of what lie in them only grew, the longer you drove and yet to encounter your destination.

The hills now tower around your vehicle like walls, painted pitch black, becoming mountainous the further out you drive. Had you not seen the fallback zone around the corner, you would have thought yourself lost.

You park the convoy a short ways to the rear of the location: a small, rundown house long abandoned since all the fighting in the area re-escalated. The house was on the outskirts of some empty town not too far away that both AQ, the Russians, and the locals avoided, seeing as the next nearest town was where you just left, and anywhere beyond this point was under AQ and Russian control. It should be a safe place to lie low until your exit is available again.

Price made sure there were a few safe areas to fall back to, in case things went wrong during the mission. Which they most certainly did. You wouldn't even have needed to be here in the first place, had everything not continued to go wrong after acquiring the vehicle. Your bad luck has hopefully since ceased.

However, the night hadn't been over yet. That much had been proven true only a half hour ago.

In a matter of minutes after making your vehicular getaway, AQ had caught up to you, all in convoys, and armed to the teeth. Had Nikolai not been around the corner with his helicopter, you and Price would have surely been run off the road at some point, being as injured as you both are and with hardly any ammo left to spare.

You could only see in your rearview mirror the destruction Nikolai created behind you, the sky having lit up with the flames of your unwanted pursuers. It had almost been perfect, until shrapnel and gunfire damaged Nikolai's helicopter too much during that last-second rescue, forcing him to retreat.

You could still picture watching him fly away, seeing that shadowy monstrosity fly off into the sky, until the hills had swallowed it whole. Watching your only exit out of here fly off into the distance absolutely gutted you. The small sliver of hope you hadn't yet lost had all but gone away with him. Yet you knew it was the safest thing to do. Your LZ had been compromised, and it wouldn't have done any good if you all piled on just to get blasted out of the sky moments later.

So instead, a change of plans was made. Nikolai, being the resourceful individual he was, had other means of escape worked out. He just needed to get there first.

Knowing this, your new objective had been clear and simple for you both: Stay alive.

You park the convoy and shut the vehicle off, watching the headlights die and a chilling silence fall in the air. All you can really do is take a moment and breathe.

Your right arm -- still very much broken and in pain -- rested limply in your lap, begging for a sling. A throbbing headache has not left you since taking that RPG blast only an hour or so ago. With having to wait to be saved now, time felt as though an hourglass had just been rested on its side.

You peek back through your window, seeing the empty hills behind you. No one's been in pursuit since Nikolai's interference earlier. Hopefully, their absence meant you'd finally lost them. You felt you had run all out of hope tonight, yet it's all that felt real and obtainable anymore.

"It seems quiet enough," you start to unbuckle your seat belt. "It's probably safe to head inside now."

You wait for your Captain's reply, only to be met with silence.

"Price?"

You look over to find the Captain lying slumped against his seat, his eyes closed and as still as a statue. The sight makes your blood run cold and your heart quake with fear.

"...Price," you reach over and rest a hand on his shoulder, beginning to shake him. Praying that he'll wake up. "Price, stay with me, Captain. Come on, wake up."

You shake and shake him, but the man doesn't budge from his sudden unconsciousness, his body only moving along to the hold you had over his shoulder. At each little shove you make of him, your eyes further lock on the still features of his face, desperation filling you.

You've tried so hard to keep your composure tonight, if not for yourself then for him. You had wanted to return the favor for all the times he's helped you from the brink of death before. The many times Price has been your last glimmer of hope when you feared none was there to have. You wanted to be that for him now. To show him he needn't shoulder such things alone. He couldn't die now.

"Price, please-"

The Captain starts to cough himself out of whatever slumber he'd found himself in, his face grimacing with pain as he hugged his wounded side. "I'm good..." he claims. "...'ave we made it?"

You look at Price, frustrated at his cavalier attitude, despite having been so used to it before. Frankly, your emotions could not handle it at the moment, given the fact that only a second ago you could have sworn he'd just died.

"It's getting worse," you state.

"I'll be fine," he protests.

"Price," he can hear in your tone you're trying to be real with him now. "Just because you wanna act like it's nothing, doesn't mean that it is-"

"Last I checked, we've little time for us to fuck about right now, lieutenant."

"You just passed out."

Price opened his mouth, prepared to argue more, but pauses when he realizes that he can't really argue at all. He had passed out, and he wasn't so prideful to claim that it wouldn't happen again either. So he instead settles down, allowing you to take the reigns and go back to focusing on the important matters.

"...I know," he says. "I'm sorry... Are you holding up alright?"

"I'm doing better than you."

Then that's what matters most, Price had thought. "I don't doubt it," he says. "And here I was hopin' I'd go out in a more dignified fashion than this-"

"Stop it," you take his hand again, shutting down whatever pity talk he was beginning to spew. Not wanting it to worry you that he's gotten to this point. "Look, we're at the safehouse now. That should make not bleeding to death a hell of a lot easier."

"Or at least more comfortable," Price quips. Though your humorless expression only makes him digress. "There should be more supplies inside."

"Let's just get inside before you pass out again."

It's a struggle to get him inside, and twice as much a struggle to patch his wound up. Price had the place generously stocked with a resupply of weapons, ammo, and medkits, though it wouldn't be enough to change the current dilemma that your Captain was in.

Once your arm had been slung (DIY style), you immediately tended to Price. However, having to help stitch with your non-dominate hand was an absolute nightmare, as much as your Captain tried to take over for himself. His hands had grown too shaky to hold the needle, it would slip from his grasp every so often, and you hadn't wanted to see him grow more frustrated with the task.

Of course, watching you struggle to stitch only upset him more. You were mostly silent, though Price would see your throat move hesitantly, swallowing heavily at every sudden urge that came to you that wanted to cry. You hadn't wanted to in front of your Captain, you didn't want him to worry about you.

You wouldn't let any amount of hindrances stop you, you closed the wound, redressed it, and checked on it a second time before Price finally had to tell you it would hold. Though closed or not, it mattered little. He'd lost so much blood at this point that it was a miracle he wasn't dead already.

But miracles only last for so long.

In and out of consciousness, Price thought a lot about how silly it would be if he bled to death right now. In such a helpless state, forced to rely on his subordinate to keep him alive. Someone who had felt more than a subordinate, now more than ever. You've seen him blown out of the sky, near beaten to death, stabbed, shot, and then some.

Twenty years of all the shit he's been through in the force, and a gut wound from shrapnel is what takes him out. He almost found it funny.

Price has told himself his whole life he'd be ready when the time comes. He accepts death every day he wakes in the morning and steps out the door. It didn't mean he'd lay down and die, however, ironic now. One way or another, the man just always knew that when he went out it would be fighting. Because he's fought his whole life, it's all he knows how to do.

All he could ever ask for is to die doing what he loves, and this had been that. However, now that this love has brought him here beside you, giving him the fate he's all but manifested for himself, over years of growing pessimism and a longing to be dignified, suddenly, he finds it funny how life can be. Now all of a sudden he doesn't feel so ready to go. He thought he'd be more prepared.

And it's what's killing him most of all. This helplessness death has now brought him.

Had Price not gone ahead and made sure Nikolai stashed medical supplies in the safehouse in advance, he's certain he would be dead right now. Though as it's been said before, the night's not over yet.

"Lieutenant..." Price calls to you faintly.

You look over at the Captain, seeing him still seated beside you, his back resting against the living room wall. Though he still looked pale, cold sweat dotting his skin, and with labored breaths, at least he wasn't bleeding anymore. You did what you could with what was available, however, you were no field medic.

"What's up?" you reply, though your attention stays out the window, towards the dark perimeter outside the safehouse. By now these hills would haunt your dreams.

You remain posted by one of the front windows, your pistol clutched in your feeble hand. Since redressing Price's wound (and your own), you've been on watch; despite numerous failed (and delirious) attempts by your Captain to take watch himself. He was as adamant to see you in better health as you were to him.

As far as you're concerned, you're the one who's in the best shape here, broken arm or not. Beyond the exhaustion, you still had all of yourself with you. That alone made you obligated to be the one that gets you both out of this mess.

However, this is the clearest the man's ever felt, and something else had been on Price's mind. A thought which crossed him, after some realization came, somewhere between silences.

Price asks you faintly "...Will you talk to me?"

You look at your Captain now, perturbed. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothin' beyond the obvious, love," Price shakes his head, before bringing a weak hand up to clear his hoarse throat. "Just tryin' not to livin' the night up by passin' out and fallin' into a coma," he admits.

Fair enough.

"OK..." You turn back to the perimeter, running a million possible icebreakers that you could say right now. It's hard to settle for just one. "Where are we going out to eat after this?"

Price chuckles to himself. "Somewhere with good steak and Guinness would suit me," he jokes.

"Can it be somewhere fancy?" you ask. "I'd love to dress up."

"Mm," Price hums.

You've dressed up a few times before whenever the team went out and there was time. He's always liked how you always kept up appearances, and that it wasn't for any other reason than the fact that you just enjoyed doing so. Evidently, Price has had passing memories of a few choice outfits you've worn, many he wished to see again.

"You've any outfits in mind?" He asks you, wanting you to paint a picture for him. Give him something nice to think about.

You think to yourself for a moment, your ponderous hum filling the silence. "A dress," you state, thinking out loud and conjuring it as you speak, as Price hums with affirmation to each suggestion. "I'm thinking something skin tight... low cut with strings and spaghetti straps. Oh! And with one of those little leg slit things too! And heels."

"That's quite a detailed description," Price teases.

You've had a lot of time to think about it, though you'd never admit that. "Does it sound nice though?"

Had you two been having this conversation elsewhere, Price's mind would have undoubtedly gone somewhere vulgar, only picturing how that dress might look bunched up at your ankles or pushed up in a messy bundle around your waist. He's sure that was your intent when describing it as well.

However, with his mind repeatedly giving way to the black throughout this conversation now, his body gone from numb to feeling light as a feather, all he could picture of you in that dress was the smile you'd have for him instead, with a cluster full of joy shining in your eyes. How happy you would be just to be beside him, just as you are now. In these brief moments where your mind has been taken away from reality.

Does it sound nice, you ask him. You could narrate his dying breath, and the man would have thought it a beautiful thing, having been your words he last could hear before the world finally takes him.

"It sounds lovely," he says.

You swallow, your brave front cracking ever so slightly at his honesty. For some reason, it felt as though gravity just came back to you. You hadn't noticed its absence until now.

"Which is exactly why we're gonna get out of here," you reassure yourself. "So I can model it for you in person, yeah?"

"Exactly why..."

It had been nice talking about something else. Seeing you smiling again had warmed the grown man's heart as greatly as any time before. Price had been itching to see it one more time.

No doubt, he hadn't forgotten about his promise to take you out to dinner once you've both returned. Thinking about it now, at the brink of death without you even knowing... it's a sweet thought, nonetheless.

"I've no idea why you even bother with me..." he says suddenly, his mind fading so much he can hardly hear the words which leave him when they do. However, it had been a growing thought all night.

He's never understood your fondness for him. Price knew he could be hot shit, and he's earned respect from countless of his peers and subordinates alike, but it wasn't because he had been special, he always thought. He saw himself as no different than anyone else on his team choosing to do the same mission.

And surely he was a sorry excuse of a man for putting you through such a thing as this, tonight.

However, the scoff you let out after he says this would suggest you beg to differ.

"Are you kidding?" You say, keeping your gaze out the window, though even from there, Price could see the sudden pride fire up in your eyes. "You're like the greatest guy I know, Captain."

Price chuckles. "...I appreciate that"

"I mean it too," you continue. "We wouldn't be 141 without you. You're smart, you're resourceful, you're kind, but you get shit done too. Not to mention you're a total hunk. You're literally the entire package."

Yeah, you thought, Price is the whole package. There wasn't a man around that you trusted more than your Captain, nor was there anyone you ever wanted respect and companionship from more than his.

You still remember the first time you ever met Price. Laswell practically had to fight the man just to let you onto the team, having doubted your capabilities at the time. And in turn, you were doubtful of him as well.

You'd heard the stories of him back even during your SAS days, talking to the man in short, and tuning him out whenever he grew too overbearing during training. You wanted to say you weren't impressed with him, but even then you could see he wasn't just all talk. So the respect had been begrudgingly earned, to start with.

It wasn't until after a few high-tense missions with him that you finally started to get along. You both may bicker and avoid one another on base, but on the field you two worked together like fire and lightning, perfectly complimenting each other.

Price always was fair and reasonable, giving no doubt to his abilities as a leader. His confidence always felt reassuring in the most stressful of operations. While he could be a hard-ass, he was equally proud and gave praise whenever credit was due. Eventually, you started to crave it.

Price always liked how you listened to him, trusting his judgment and taking his advice. He's seen you grow and learn, watching you bleed for your comrades and step into the fire ready, just as he does, and that alone had been respectable to him. You had been so happy to have it too.

The hostility simmered into being cordial, before becoming neutral, and then casual. Your talks warmed, as did your times together. After a while, Price had been as synonymous to you as home ever could be. With all you two have been through, and all the times he's helped you since knowing him, you owe it to him to be his support this time.

"Whenever I'm around you I..." You speak again, but pause shortly, trying to think of the right words to say. "I feel safe," you say. "Like everything's going to be OK, and that soon it'll all be over. Because you're here. I mean, when you pulled me out from that rubble and I saw that you were OK, I just..."

It had felt wrong to ever even have had any doubts then. Because of course Price had been fine, it was Price. That's just who he was.

"I don't think I've ever met a man I've felt so safe around before in my entire life," you say. "Even now-"

You look over, only to be greeted by your Captain lying slouched against the wall, his eyes closed and completely still. Irresponsive. Your smile drops, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

"Captain?"

No response.

You immediately rush to his side and check for a pulse on his neck, your heart shattering when you couldn't find it.

"Price?" Your voice is practically at a whisper now, unable to use your vocal cords to full use, from fear of your voice breaking apart altogether. You place your hand on the side of his face, his skin so cold it makes you shiver, feeling your lip start to quiver and your vision blur with hot tears.

Even now, a small part of you was simply waiting to see him open his eyes again. Expecting him to shrug this off like he does with everything else so easily.

The whole time you sat kneeled in front of your Captain, you kept questioning how you could have let this happen, scolding yourself for this catastrophe. So many emotions flooded within you at one moment, you almost felt unable to process. You wanted to throw up, it was so much. It instead halts you there like a statue, your face frozen blank.

Your grievances are interrupted upon hearing a vehicle approaching outside. Suddenly, you really take in the fact that you're by yourself now. Your heart races, your hands starting to shake and your breathing growing quick. You were on your own.

You press your back against the wall, keeping your pistol close to you. You watch the headlights from outside pool through the window, illuminating the living room and remaining there.

The comms were beside Price; Nikolai would surely notify you if it was him outside. AQ couldn't have found you so soon, could they have?

With a broken arm and your own intuition left, you close your eyes and rest your head back against the wall, repeating to yourself at a whisper, "Please be Nik. Please be Nik. Please be Nik..."

Your comms buzz. "Price, Price, come in," Nikolai radios in. "Help has arrived!"

You let out a broken exhale. For the first time all night, you actually felt some real relief. Though, it was quickly drowned out once you looked back over towards your Captain, still lying there. Only a few minutes shy of being able to know you both would have been rescued tonight.

You reach around Price to grab the comms and radio back in to Nikolai. "Give me a minute, Nik."

You set the comms down, kneeling back in front of your Captain, tears burning in your eyes, your chest on fire.

Seeing him like this had felt so surreal. So unfitting. So unfair.

"Oh John…" You bring your hand down to Price's, holding tightly as his large fingers sat limp in your grasp. Cold and bloodied. You couldn't bring yourself to part from him now. "…I'm so sorry."

Price's hand suddenly twitches in your palm, making you gasp rather meekly. You watch him slowly pry his heavy eyelids open, and he reciprocates the hold you have over his hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze. Letting you know he was alive.

"… I'm right here," Price breathes out. "I'm here…"

Your gasp is broken with both relief and joy, a smile growing on your face and tears streaming down your cheeks. He was alive after all. Of course he was. This is your Captain. This is who John is; forever the class act.

A ping of frustration then hits you, bringing you to shove your Captain suddenly.

"Easy now," he says sarcastically.

"Don’t ever do that again!" you yell at him. "You scared me half to death, you asshole!"

Price raises an eyebrow at your outburst. He then sighs to himself, looking ahead of himself. Content.

"Ah, well…" He retakes your hand again, holding it in his lap for a spell, letting his thumb caress your skin, as he thinks slowly to himself. His breath is as broken as his hand feels in yours, with so much on his mind still left to say. He wouldn't miss these chances no longer. "I love you too."

You open your mouth to speak but then pause. Did he just say that to you? He loves you. Your heart jumped for joy. You didn't lose him after all.

You no longer cared if you looked weak, or unprofessional, or even too emotional, the tears come out and everything you'd been keeping bottled releases into broken sobs, and it feels so good to let them out. You lean into your Captain, burying your head into his chest to cry, which springs a pained "oof" from him in return.

"I'm sorry, Captain," you sit up and wipe the tears from your eyes. "I'm sorry... I really thought I lost you."

"I'm not goin' nowhere," he says. "We've still got that dinner later."

A big, giddy smile paints your face, and then, with a lifetime of moments worth of waiting and build-up to help guide you, you lean forward and let your lips come to Price's. Just in case. You didn't want to take any more chances.

You kiss Price softly, tasting the blood on his tongue and feeling the sting of his beard against your face. He could have been covered in mud for all you cared. You pull your lips away quickly, not having wanted to take up too much time. However, Price chases your lips as you part, finding your mouth again and kissing you back just as longingly. He finally lets himself celebrate the end of this night and the start of tomorrow.

( ´•̥̥̥o•̥̥̥`)♡(˘̩̩̩̩̩̩ ⌂ ˘̩̩̩̩̩̩) part three

[toomanytookas]

🎶 username song game 🎶

This is so fun, @guiltyasdave ! Thank you for the tag. ���� I had to find sooooooo many “o” songs ack 😂

T - Two - The Antlers O - Orange Juice - Noah Kahan O - On & On & On - Maggie Rogers

M - MSMSMSM - SOPHIE A - AWARDS SEASON - Bon Iver N - Naked in Manhattan - Chappell Roan Y - Your Hands are Cold - Jean-Yves Thibaudet and the English Chamber Orchestra [2005 P&P Marianelli soundtrack my beloved]

T - The Chicken - Bo Burnham O - On a Good Day - Joanna Newsom O - Old Coat - Peter, Paul & Mary K - Kyoto - Phoebe Bridgers A - Animal Tracks - Mountain Man S - Shrike - Hozier

No pressure, especially if you’ve got a longer username, but if you'd like to, I'd love to see what you come up with (also if you see this, consider yourself tagged <3)! Apologies if you've done it already, but also if you have please tag me! I wanna see!

@schnarfer @secretelephanttattoo [lol el I’m sorry but also I’d be really curious to see all of your ‘t’ songs 😂] @pascalssbabyy @rebel-held @sp00kymulderr [also sorry gideon, maybe pretend they’re o’s? 🤭]

@jessthebaker @katareyoudrilling @almostfoxglove @luxurychristmaspudding @burntheedges

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Dragonborn • Awake • From Past To Present • Unbroken Road • Ancient Stones • The City Gates • Silent Footsteps • Dragonsreach • Tooth And Claw • Under An Ancient Sun • Death Or Sovngarde • Masser • Distant Horizons • Dawn • The Jerall Mountains • Steel On Steel • Secunda • Imperial Throne • Frostfall • Night Without Stars • Into Darkness • Kyne's Peace • Unbound • Far Horizons • A Winter's Tale • The Bannered Mare • The Streets Of Whiterun • One They Fear • The White River • Silence Unbroken • Standing Stones • Beneath The Ice • Tundra • Journey's End • Before The Storm • A Chance Meeting • Out Of The Cold • Around The Fire • Shadows And Echoes • Caught Off Guard • Aurora • Blood And Steel • Towers And Shadows • Seven Thousand Steps • Solitude • Watch The Skies • The Gathering Storm • Sky Above, Voice Within • Death In The Darkness • Shattered Shields • Sovngarde • Wind Guide You • Skyrim Atmospheres

Spotify ♪ YouTube

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Day 9

Deity

*sneezes after downing coffee* Well irl stuff got in the way so I'm way behind my original schedule for these and for Linktober but here we go with another arguably short one, fuelled purely by self indulgence, headcanons, spite against my linguist essays that kept me from keeping to schedule, severe sleep deprivation, a shout out to the Ender Lilies soundtrack and Majora's Mask soundtrack, and Nintendo for not clarifying anything about the lore so I'm snatching what I can and making it my own lol. Look, when you fíxate so much on details the Zelda team doesn't elaborate on you have to fill in the gaps with what you can.

As always can be read as romantic or platonic, technically in a LU context but not explicitly in it by itself.

The Lord of the Mountain liked hearing people sing.

In a way, it wasn’t a surprise, Hylia and the Golden Three each had their ballads and symphonies and minuets, each splendid and with cuts of their divinity in it, Farore was fond of lightning and forest alive minuets, and you could swear Farosh sparked just a bit brighter when one would him the beginnings of the Minuet of the Forest near their spring, Din was fond of boleros, fiery and alive and howling with the echo of flame touching earth that made a shine run through Dinraal’s scales, Nayru, in contrast, was much fonder of blizzard and river quiet serenades, the songs of contemplation at first snow ringing clear when Naydra curled around it’s spring, content to be free of Malice.

And of course Hylia had her ballads and lullabies, perfectly fitting to her display of divinity, of honey days and vast bird like wings, of ambered summers to come and to pass and dazzling solar storms of starlight and sunlight sparking through the human form of her descendants and heroes. So in a way, you weren’t surprised at all that the Lord of the Mountain – Satori, with a familiar touch of londsleite divinity, the hunt of the woodland beasts and diamondscar adoration for the Hero of the Wilds, similar in glory to the Light Spirits petrichor and vermeil fondness for the Hero of the Twilight – liked to listen to people sing. What you were surprised was how it attempted to follow along, it’s head across your lap the second you sat down in the clearing, a gentle hum on back of it’s throat, an owl’s cry and a cicada’s humming and faintly, chirring purring as presses it’s faces into your hands, a gentle request for petting.

It was adorable, even with the faint notes of the chill of clear spring water on winter and the livewire feeling of magic, like holding your hand too close to a flame but not quite touching it.

A low chuckle brushes against the back of your mind, a feeling like biting on ice, the prowl of a wild beast and the build up of lightning and light used to create his blade, the amused affection of a warrior reconvening with their brother in arms, you think you see the bone ivory of the Deity’s hair on the side of your vision, though you know he’s not physically there, ‘He likes you.’

You hum, gently patting behind it’s ears, pushing through the chill, gracefully not mentioning the burning with a smile at the mythic being’s faint chirring, birdsong and the wind through cherry blossoms that sparkle like rose quartz, “Well I quite like him too, I can see where it’s gentleness comes from.”

The ghost of a touch over your hair, the caress of lightning striking over your skin and the hair on the back of your neck pricking up and the crisp cold of winter, the chill of the ending and the flame of a new dawn, of new days, the phantom of magnolias and spring water on your tongue. The fragrance of pine, daffodils and blood soaked lilies on ashen fields on your senses, gentle and careful, marking but not claiming, ‘Only because it’s you, beloved. It’s not something easily given.’

You sigh, shakily composing yourself, you let yourself relax into the phantom sensation. Of hopes and dreams and healed suffering, of the divinity of hunt turned into protection and lightning given form, of tangled timelines and crystalized memories, “I know. It does not change my opinion, either way.”

To be the subject of a god’s care and regard was dangerous, after all. For the human and the deity in question, you know the stories from your world well, of the effects of Hylia on First and Sky, of Twilight and the personification of the Twilight Realm and the spirits of his land, of Wild and clawing from death’s embrace into that of the wilderness.

Knew how the fact the Fierce Deity’s mere proximity causing pain on those who changed him into hunting for hunt’s sake into protection for the sake of someone else cut deeper than even the ever encroaching entropy all beings must one day face. It was no wonder the Song of Healing was his creation, to want to ease the burden.

You gladly grant him some peace, in turn, even if it wasn’t much. It’s the least you can do, for always having his ways of watching over your heroes.

“Join me? We can make a duet.”

You feel more than see him shift, ephemeral, fleeting, gentle against the edges of your existence, as foreign to Hyrule as your own, sparking over your spine as you feel ozone and rust on your teeth. Satori is humming again to match the rumble of thunder in the man’s voice, the heralding of songs of war and elegies for the dead, ‘Of course, though I’m afraid I do not know many songs, besides…’

“It’s alright,”, you smile faintly, there’s a white ocarina in his hands, as he leans, a spectre against your side, “I’ll teach you some of my own, though you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t remember all the lyrics.”

‘It would be my honor to learn.’

You think he smiles, from the fluttering of something ancient and long forgotten against your side.

You sing to Satori and the Chain, a small respite of familiar and forgotten tunes, the Lord of the Mountain hums along. The Fierce Deity’s song cutting through any nightmares that may ail your heroes for another night.

When the dawn of a new day comes, the feeling of divinity against your skin feels just a bit more obvious, sinking into every crack of your being like a shroud, falling over your boys like a veil, reflecting the breath of eternity over Hyrule.

(First gives you a look that’s half exasperation, half understanding. Sky pointedly sticks to your side as Time looks you over, markings deep with vibrant color. You shrug with a helpless smile as you feel the lightest brushes of Hylia’s fond days of gold and starlit summers days against the Lord of the Mountains warm, luminous affection and the Fierce Deity’s smug, but content lonsdaleite smile.)

[ghulehthezombiequeen]

motion picture soundtrack - ghouls headcanon

in honor of winter season, i started thinking about what the ghouls would do if you took them all ice skating!

also i felt bad because i havent written anything since my birthday which was a month ago so have this

enjoy!

warnings/things to note: gender neutral reader, other than that nothing! :)

masterlist.

Sodo hates the cold. He's very grumpy and pouty about the idea, complaining the whole way there. He gets there and immediately wants to leave.

(He's also probably the reason why you chose to rent a private party because he may or may not want to chuck the skates at someone's face if they looked at him funny)

Can't skate. Hates it. Constantly clinging onto the walls and the little walker for dear life every time he's on the ice.

He cried the first time he fell down, and when you went to help him back up, he dragged you down with him because he's a little shit.

chugs all the hot chocolate after he's done. Also chucks the skates away from his feet and steals your fluffy socks because he's a wuss when it comes to the cold.

Rain is a natural. It's his favorite winter sport. He gives Sodo a mini lesson in the basics of maneuvering on the ice and offers his arm to anyone who can't/doesn't know how to skate.

Definitely will dress for the occasion. Thinking maybe like Yuzuru Hanyu's costumes or something similar.

Will offer to teach you a few tricks for pairs skating, and depending on your own skill level, will ask to do a death spiral with you.

However, if you fall, he's instantly on his knees next to you and checking for serious injuries. Will never forgive himself if you're injured from one of his favorite sports.

One time, when he thought no one was looking, he purposely belly flopped and laid on the ice like a penguin and licked the ice right after the ice resurfacer laid a fresh coat and there were still puddles of water on the ice. Unfortunately, you were indeed looking, and he bolted straight to the bathroom out of embarrassment.

Swiss is also terrible at ice skating, but he's open to try a few tricks to try to impress you. His balance isn't the greatest, and you can't help but chuckle when he fell trying to land an axel and finger-gunned you with his signature smile.

Will do a couple laps around the rink trying to play tag with you and Rain, however instead of tagging either of you, he tags Sodo and giggles like a madman.

Always wants to touch you somehow. Not in a sexual way, he just can't skate very well. So expect him to cling to your hand, arm, waist, shoulders, etc.

If you do lap him, he will playfully slap your butt. Because he's Swiss, of course. One time he tried and missed, and he ended up hitting Rain as he was preparing to jump for a double toeloop and ended up knocking all three of you down. Rain was pissed.

His eyes instantly dart to the zamboni/ice refresher and wants to drive it. He maybe also tried flirting with the worker in charge of it and possibly got to sit on it.

Poor Mountain. They don't have skates in his shoe size. The closest thing is a half size smaller than usual, which is really painful. So he only goes on the ice for about ten minutes then sits back down.

When he is on the ice, however, he's always holding your hand. He even gave you his scarf and beanie once he noticed how pink your nose and cheeks were getting.

He takes a lot of photos of you and your smile. Also has a lot of photos of Rain mid-jump, and chuckles at the face he made while doing so.

Buys everyone hot chocolate and a few candy canes, however the hot chocolate is demolished by Sodo. He's not really that upset, just disappointed because he was really looking forward to it.

When you get back, you make him is own special mug of hot chocolate with peppermint whipped cream and candy cane bits to cheer him up. He pulls you in a big bear hug as a thank-you.

Phantom is okay at ice skating. Not really his favorite, but he's really curious about how it really works, and ends up researching a few tricks to try and learn on his own.

Somehow hacked the speakers and got them to play Cigarettes After Sex as you guys skated. Poor thing wants to be romantic but is still clinging to the walls because he's scared of falling.

Might need help lacing up the skates, only to find out that he has the wrong size. Apparently he thought he was two sizes bigger than he actually is. (It wasn't entirely his fault, he got really nervous telling the employee)

Always cuddles with you on the benches. Also takes photos of the both of you and makes it his wallpaper on his phone.

If you ever need a break, he's the first to offer water, tea, coffee, snacks, anything. He'll even split a hot chocolate with you while Sodo's too busy trying not to fall on the ice.

Cirrus is also pretty good at skating. She sticks with Cumulus and Aurora and the three of them skate around the rink twirling each other and will even offer to let you join them.

She crocheted the girls matching scarves and the boys matching beanies, but since you're special, she made you both in your own unique color so you stand out.

She also managed to sneak in a few snacks of her own. Well, snacks being cake pops from Starbucks.

Takes a bunch of photos and spends half an hour posting each one because she wants to edit them to match her aesthetic. They turn out adorable, though.

I have a headcanon that all the ghouls are huge fans of Star Wars, so she will probably want to reenact the duel of Mustafar, even though you guys are on ice and not lava..

Cumulus is the mom friend and makes everyone take a Hot Hands packet, even bringing a separate bag just for them.

Also takes a bunch of photos, but posts them no matter how they turn out. She just wants people to see how happy everyone is in the moment.

Poor girlie can't skate, but she tries her hardest either way. She loves going backwards once she learns how, but ends up bumping into you by accident.

You two fall in the middle of the rink, but you're both giggling to each other and just lay there for a while before either Rain or Cirrus comes over to check on you guys.

Also scolds Sodo for hogging all the hot chocolate, but it's because she wanted to share some with you. You promise that you two can share another hot drink instead, and she cheers up.

Aurora, being the pretty princess that she is, shows up in her blingy skating costume that inadvertently matches Rain's. Thank goodness it's a private party session or else she'd never beat the dating allegations.

Always takes a break every 20 minutes to drink water and scolds the boys for forgetting to bring water bottles of their own. She will share with you, not caring about the germs.

Makes Mountain take a bunch of photos of you two, along with her and the other ghoulettes for the photo album she's making. She repays him by buying him a candy cane.

Will twirl you around on the ice, dancing along to the music when it's not playing whatever Phantom's playlist had. She'll even dance with Swiss until she realizes he can't skate and ditches him to dance with you.

Poor girl is so tired by the end of it that she falls asleep on the bench before you all leave, and you and Cumulus pick her up and carry her to the car.

[gammasquad]

I think Vulcans would really like camping.

They would take little vacations on earth and go camping. Like a safer more fun version of their Kahs-wans. Some go the classic route and hike along mountain ranges and camp in popular parks. They would love to talk about the history of the landmarks and area with park rangers and other campers.

Some may go the nostalgia route trekking through the Sahara or camping in Death Valley.

Others want a bigger challenge and go to the poles, seeing if they can withstand the cold so they have something to brag about later.

I really like the idea of Vulcans camping on earth.

Sorry I was listening to the Outer Wilds soundtrack earlier.

[katyawriteswhump]

Steddie microfic: Burning for you, Baby

Eddie’s not a fan of Christmas traditions. Events soon bring Steve around to Eddie’s way of thinking.

Written for the December @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pine,’ 508 words.

Rating: M. Tags: Fluff, smut, and mild whump. Established relationship. Allergies. Holidays.

CW: non-explicit fluffy smut. (also, my first proper tumbl post! Literally shaking here... Sorry if I've got something wrong!!)

On AO3 here

Eddie trailed Steve up the slush-covered mountain: “I’m terrified parts of me I reeeeally don’t wanna lose are gonna freeze and drop off.”

Steve glanced back. Eddie’s boy in action-mode—ax slung over his shoulder—looked damn fine. “You’re kidding?”

“Talking ’bout my fingers. Not the parts you’re obsessed with.” Eddie poked his tongue out. Ow! Too cold. “My gloves are soaked.”

“Quit whining.” Steve pitched Eddie his gloves, which plopped in the mud. “Jesus, you never could catch.”

“Keep ‘em.” Eddie stuffed them in Steve’s jeans’ back pocket. Mmmm, warm here. “Don’t want trembles when you swing that ax. Uh, remind me why we can’t hack a tree from the roadside?”

Steve’s heavy sigh clouded the air. “It’s a Harrington tradition. I loved tree-hunting with my grandpa for a proper, bushy Indiana pine. Dad didn’t bother. I guess I wanted to reinvent it. For us.”

“Ooookay. Gonna need a Gunja break to waft away that WASP juju, or…”

He grabbed Steve’s scarf. Steve scowled, dropped his ax, and Eddie sealed their chapped lips in a sizzling kiss. Soon, Eddie’s hands grew lovely and warm, happily stuffed down Steve’s pants. Eddie broke for air, arched a brow. “This tradition doesn’t suck.”

Steve scowled again, grabbed the ax: “We gotta move, or they’ll find our rotting corpses next spring.”

They lugged a tree down the hill then up to their second-floor apartment.

Pine needles got everywhere. Eddie overruled hoovering with a hot shower, pressing Steve to the tiles. They kissed each other silly again, hot steam billowing, and wound up rolling on the floorboards, jerking each other off amid a sea of pine needles.

***

When Steve awoke, his ass was ON FIRE.

“Jesus Christ!”

He lifted Eddie’s arm, sat up, glimpsed his bare arms—they were bright pink! He tugged down his pants and twisted to see. “Nooooo! My butt!”

Eddie woke with a jolt. “What’s wrong? I wasn’t rough… OH SHIIIIIT!”

Steve dashed to the mirror, consoled that his face wasn’t as livid as his rear. He stripped his shirt. Stared. Trembled. His torso was a blotchy mess. Eddie embraced him from behind. Steve elbowed him away. “I might be infectious.”

“Chill.” Eddie nuzzled Steve’s sore nape. “Allergic to pine needles, babe?”

Steve turned within Eddie’s arms, comforted that Eddie wasn’t repulsed. “Huh?”

Eddie coaxed him back to bed, headed to the drug store. Steve called his mom: “As a tiny kid, Steve, you got a rash at Christmas on your face and hands. We suspected your grandpa’s wild pine, so we ditched that tradition.”

“Oh.” Steve rubbed his palm in calming circles on his burning stomach. “Thanks, mom.”

Soon, Eddie smeared camomile lotion on Steve’s itchiest parts, to the soundtrack of angry metal. When Steve got a headache, Eddie turned it down, and chased his dabs of camomile across Steve’s sensitive skin with sweet caressing kisses.

“To be fair, Stevie,” he whispered, his breaths balmy in the small of Steve’s back, “I’ve had worse Christmases.”

Steve sighed into the pillow, while Eddie kissed his smouldering ass. “Yeah, me too.”

[wadbot]

NERF.wad: Not Even Remotely Fair MAP05: Do It Again (-2976, 336, 64) Author: Peter "MegaSphere" Lawrence Date: 2024-01-15 Description: 32 Maps for DOOM II (Limit Removing, complevel 2) Nightmare Difficulty Only All Original Soundtrack Download the soundtrack here: https://megasphere.bandcamp.com/album/not-even-remotely-fair-original-soundtrack DEHACKED changes: Tyrants (Spider Mastermind replacement) Green Cyberdemons with only 1000hp and can infight with Cyberdemons. They have the Commander Keen death state so killing them can open doors tagged 666. Silvergunners (Wolf SS replacement) Identical to regular Chaingunners in every way, except they drop Clips instead of Chainguns. Spider Mastermind (Keen replacement) It's a Spider Mastermind but is now affected by splash damage due to limitations. Big Brain (Modified Romero Head) Exits the level immediately when killed, used for death exits. Big Brain Original (Techpillar replacement) A restoration of the original Romero Head behaviour. Barrel Instant (Dead Lost Soul replacement) An explosive barrel with 1hp and explodes immediately. Map Authors: Episode 1 Maps MAP01: "Four Rockets" Peter Lawrence (MegaSphere) MAP02: "Untamed Grotto" Benchy MAP03: "Fireblu Baptism" BooTheJudge MAP04: "In the Pits" MegaSphere MAP05: "Do It Again" Dwars and Benchy MAP06: "Rats in the Walls" Christophine Place MAP07: "Across the Highlands" Xulgonoth MAP08: "Running in the 90's" Anarki, Xulgonoth, and Christophine Place MAP09: "The Bloody Awful" BooTheJudge MAP10: "Let Me In" borogk MAP11: "Crudge" decino Episode 2 Maps MAP12: "Air Fryer" Benchy MAP13: "Uptown" GamingGargoyle MAP14: "Castling In Check" Ludi MAP15: "Break From Blood" Christophine Place MAP16: "Skull Geometry" Benchy MAP17: "Obsidian Tower" MegaSphere MAP18: "Toxic Irony" SeeJay MAP19: "Trirannical Terror" SeeJay MAP20: "Metal Migrane" Benchy Episode 3 Maps MAP21: "Stardust" Benchy MAP22: "Valley Fever" GamingGargoyle MAP23: "Blue Monday" Benchy MAP24: "Fireblu Dreams" Matthew DeCalzadilla (Moustachio) MAP25: "Bloodstream" Ravendesk MAP26: "Mountain Complex" RedBoule MAP27: "Out of this World" MegaSphere MAP28: "Styx" Benchy MAP29: "Cold Beige Techbase" decino MAP30: "The Final Stage" MegaSphere Secret Levels MAP31: "The Chasm But Real" decino MAP32: "Circumscription" Benchy, decino, MegaSphere, and SeeJay MAP33: "Error 405" Xulgonoth Soundtrack Authors: Episode 1 OST MAP01: "Four Rockets" MegaSphere MAP02: "Untamed Grotto" MegaSphere MAP03: "Fireblu Baptism" MegaSphere MAP04: "In the Pits" MegaSphere MAP05: "Do It Again" MegaSphere and Dwars MAP06: "Rats in the Walls" MegaSphere MAP07: "Across the Highlands" MegaSphere and decino MAP08: "Dozy Dust" decino MAP09: "The Bloody Awful" MegaSphere MAP10: "Let Me In" MegaSphere MAP11: "Crudge" MegaSphere Episode 2 OST MAP12: "Air Fryer" SynDoom & MegaSphere MAP13: "Uptown" MegaSphere MAP14: "Castling in Check" MegaSphere MAP15: "On The Shoulders of Giants" MegaSphere & Xulgonoth MAP16: "Skull Geometry" SynDoom MAP17: "Obsidian Tower" MegaSphere MAP18: "Toxic Irony" MegaSphere MAP19: "Trirannical Terror" MegaSphere MAP20: "Metal Migraine" MegaSphere and James Paddock Episode 3 OST MAP21: "Stardust" MegaSphere & Dwars MAP22: "Do It For The Vine" Korp MAP23: "Blue Monday" MegaSphere MAP24: "Hishousouzan" Cammy MAP25: "He Tricks Me Like a Gentleman" Cammy & Ravendesk MAP26: "Mountain Complex" MegaSphere MAP27: "Out of this World" MegaSphere MAP28: "Styx" MegaSphere MAP29[pt1]: "Cow Bell Track" decino MAP29[pt2]: "Cries Beyond Terror" MegaSphere MAP30[pt1]: "NERF Intro Extended" MegaSphere MAP30[pt2]: "NERF Credits" MegaSphere (uses sample from Abdul Cisse & Epic Games) MAP30[pt3]: "D_CBT" FSII (Edited by MegaSphere) Secret Levels OST MAP31: "In the Dank" decino MAP32: "Light at the End of the Tunnel" MegaSphere MAP33: "HEY EVERYBODY" MegaSphere Miscellaneous OST Title screen: "NERF OST - Title" MegaSphere Intermission screen: "NERF OST - Intermission" MegaSphere Text screen: "NERF OST - Text Screen" MegaSphere Disclaimers: Learning a map layout when on Nightmare is quite intense so we recommend playing on easier skill levels first which remove all non-essential monsters. 'Save Scum', and 'Load Lame' are NOT to discourage use of saves, they are intended only as funny gags. The intermission screen texts are to serve as comic relief in between episodes. Despite the many references we do not encourage real life CBT.

[stormyoceans]

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GJHxF4UbMAAydho?format=jpg&name=small

Do you think we're really going to get this, Monica? There are too many signs. although the plot is absolutely not new, but we get Jimmy in a medical gown, enemies to lovers, mountains again, the pursuit of the main character by bandits. is it possible that it will be filmed by Jojo? could today's mv be a future soundtrack? someone hurry up April so that at least one of these questions is answered.

BY GOD IT’S JIMMYSEA AS INTHU AND THAPFAH WITH A STEEL CHAIR!!!!!!!!!!!

okay, so, before answering you anon, let me just do a quick summary of the situation for people who may not be familiar with The Lore™

basically, before last twilight was announced during GMMTV 2023, the entire nomnom fandom was convinced that the show jimmysea were going to have with p’aof was an adaptation of the novel ทำนายทายทัพ by ดวินทร์

here’s the best synopsis translation i could find:

​​Indhu is a YouTuber and a fortune teller who never discloses his face to his viewers. He writes some articles on gypsy horoscope on the internet and in a few magazines. Even though someone wants him to do a fortune telling face-to-face, he always refuses. He avoids people since he has got a sixth sense and he doesn’t want to accidentally foresee someone’s fate. One day while doing a fortune telling for his close friend at her house, Indhu meets Thapfa, a doctor and his friend’s eldest brother. Thapfa is moody because his mother wants Indhu to do a fortune telling for him but he hates fortune tellers. Thapfa misbehaves against Indhu even though it’s their first-time meeting. Indhu is not happy with that. However, he foresees Thapfa’s fate that the man is going to face a deadly destiny in the near future. Thapfa has been harmed by someone several times after he had accidentally heard a secret about a man trying to kill his wife. He doesn’t recall the forecast he received from Indhu until Indhu sees him being attacked by a car. Indhu saves Thapfa from the accident and warns Thapfa that he might lose his life next time if he doesn’t do something to solve this issue. While the officers investigate the case and track down the suspects, Indhu’s friend asks him to allow her brother to temporarily stay at his weekend house in Mae Hong Son. Staying in the same house in cold weather and under the starry skies brings the two rivals, Indhu and Thapfa, closer. Without realizing, their relationship becomes closer and tighter as time goes by.

the main reasons nomnoms believed that this could happen were because this novel can be seen in bad buddy ep 12 and because way back in the days both jimmy and sea liked a tweet that compared them to the characters. in the end we got last twilight instead, even if recently, during the last twilight final episode event, jimmy said that he thought he was going to act in another project

the theory of jimmysea as inthu and thapfah has now resurfaced thanks to a frankly suspicious interaction between jimmysea and the last twilight admin while promoting the new MV:

jimmy has also used the 🔮 emoji in one of his last mirror selfie with sea and apparently p’aof mentioned that for his next series he would go back to the mountains (i can’t find the source on this tho, sorry ;;;;;;)

SO BACK TO YOUR QUESTION ANON. HONESTLY AT THIS POINT ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE AND IDK WHAT TO THINK ANYMORE. the emojis p’jojo used to describe his new series don’t really match with this story, but then again, it’s not the first time p’aof and p’jojo switch projects. like you said there are starting to be a bit too many signs pointing to this actually happening at some point to just chuck everything to coincidence and i personally would LOVE to see jimmysea in these roles. it’s the ‘enemies’ to lovers grumpy/sunshine science vs spirituality pairing of my hopes and dreams!!!!!!

so you know. MY CLOWN SHOES ARE ON MY MAKE UP IS IN PLACE MY WIG IS SECURED I WILL BE WAITING Y'ALL AT THE MASS MANIFESTATION EVENT AT MY HOUSE TONIGHT AT 9 WE'RE MAKING THIS HAPPEN WITH THE SHEER POWER OF DERANGEMENT AND DELUSION