#duty of truth

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

probably will be FORCED by Pomp And Circumstance to go to the CLOWN HOSPITAL, for a CLOWN INJURY (may or may not be An ALLEGEDLY Fractured Foot...a MOURNFUL MALADY incurred in the most PATHETIC and LAPSIDAISICAL Fashion of TRAGICALLY UNFASHIONABLY Events......

Anyway. Forgot what I was saying. Buy me 1/25th of an x-ray or whatnot I guess

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Burning Rotten Bridges

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nekrosmos]

I love playing as Price and getting finishes. Old man chooses violence <3

[konigsblog]

brain rotting away with thoughts of simon riley and his somnophilia kink...

cw: somnophilia (consensual & previously discussed) MDNI 18+

Simon appreciates the trust you have to allow him to slide into your gummy, spongy walls and use your pretty, slick cunt for his release. His breathing quickens at the pleasure against his meaty cock. The sound of a branch hitting against the window and the sound of the light rain pattering against the glass soothes you to sleep. Your breathing is shallow and quiet, along with the sound of your snoring.

His calloused, rough hands touch your body, and his firm and tight hold on your hips leaves indents along your skin. Your eyes are tightly shut, and Simon's lengthy, veiny dick throbs at the tight confines of his boxers, feeling a couple sizes too small for his achingly hard cock. You look so peaceful and relaxed, while Simon is dying for his release. He admires the sight of you before he begins to lift up your his t-shirt to touch your hardened nipples. Simon coos at the softness of your breasts, and your pants dampen with your arousal as he grinds himself against your cunt slowly.

Simon's hung cock springs from his boxers, smearing his thick and milky arousal along his muscular abdomen. He huffs and puffs as he begins to rut against your folds slowly, the wetness of your creamy stickiness causing Simon's eyes to roll to the back of his head. He heaves at the sensation of your pussy pulsing around nothing. He can feel the wetness and warmth of your beautiful, swollen cunt, with each thrust leaving Simon even more desperate.

His growls and grumbles are hushed as he bites his bottom lip hard, throwing his head back as he feels his veiny dick throb and twitch. Your juices coat his shaft, smearing along his lengthy dick that oozes his white release from the tip. He can smell your sweet juices, and it's only driving him closer to his orgasm. Each thrust leaves Simon even more delirious than the other as he pumps and grinds himself against you, his core tightening as his orgasm inches closer and closer. The sight of you like this leaves Simon feeling almost possessive—how perfect you look when you're asleep, how vulnerable you are. He couldn't imagine a world without you, his head spinning as he felt himself throb and pulse, his tip beginning to weep pre-cum as he rolls his dick against your pussy.

Your hole drools with arousal and the sweet juices that Simon dreams of tasting and fantasies about. You plague his every thought, his calloused and scarred fingertips against your hardened, perky nipple, causing your body to shudder and his muscular hips jerk and twist as his orgasm comes down on him all at once. He throws his head back, letting out a deep, hoarse growl at the feeling of his tip leaking all over you. Although he's light-headed and dizzy, he can hear the sounds of your confusion and the bedsheets rustling, alerting Simon of your awakening. You mumble, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of your pussy covered in white fluids, his semen still dripping from the tip as his chest rises and falls, still trying to catch his breath.

Although instead of rolling over or falling back asleep, Simon feels your hand grasp at his firm cock, spreading your slit and pushing him inside. Simon immediately grunts out praise, telling you what a good girl you are, as he begins thrusting slowly. His thrusts are sloppy and messy as he cups your jaw, his forehead pressed against yours, blood running down his chin from biting his lip so hard. He huffs and puffs, barely able to contain or control himself as his pace quickens. Simon gazes down, rolling his thumb over your sensitive clit and watching as your body shakes with pleasure. The sweet smell of your arousal is leaving Simon almost addicted, as he feels himself inching closer once again.

This time, it doesn't take Simon very long. He's already heaving and panting like a dog in heat, and his thrusts get quicker and deeper at the tightness of your gummy walls around his hard dick. The sounds of your whimpering and moaning cause Simon to reach his orgasm; the feeling of Simon filling your hole causes you to squirt against his abdomen, coating him in the glossy shimmer of your release.

Just two horny fucks laying together, breathing heavily and getting off for hours, until the sun rises and the birds begin chirping.

[machveil]

Loser!König whose heart is pumping rapidly when you smile up at him. it’s not a huge gesture, just a small quirk of your lips, but König feels like he can barely swallow. flushed from the neck up under his hood, he��s staring down at you, icy gaze locked on you

Loser!König that doesn’t know what to do with his hands when you’re around. constantly moving them around - in his pockets for a moment, flat against his thighs the next. god forbid you hold hands with him, he’s shaky, palms a little sweaty as he goes weak in the knees

CW: overstimulation, weepy Loser!König

Loser!König that’s bucking his hips up - head lolled back as he moves you up and down on his cock. his grip on your hips is a little too hard, the fat of your hips spilling around his thick fingers. his eyes are screwed shut, your own moans falling on deaf ears. he’s moaning loudly, fat tip hitting you a little too deep

Loser!König overstimulating himself with you - overstimulating you too by proxy. he’s too lost in the feeling of you wrapped around him, drool pooling in his mouth before he swallows, whining when you kiss him. he’s fucking you down against him, a doll in his hands as he mumbles apologies and pleads for more

Loser!König that lazily thrusts up, his face pressed to your neck when he cums - mouth latching onto your throat. he can’t stop, his cock leaking even after he’s come down from his high. it’s automatic, the way he keeps you pressed down to his base, desperately grinding you against him

Loser!König babbling nonsense when you try to pull off of him, his arms wrapping around your waist as he begs you for one more orgasm - just one more, he promises. fat tears stuck to his eyelashes as he looks at you, another buck of his hips has you going limp against his chest. he’s sorry, Liebling, but you feel so good around him. hot and tight, it has him dumbly mumbling about how much he loves you. he promises just one more, promises one more again and again

[mylittlecrow]

i will never shut up about jon promising to protect sansa in 6x09 and then the parallel of lyanna begging ned to promise to protect jon IN THE NEXT EPISODE. something something “if the day should ever come when your lord father was forced to chose between honor on the one hand and those he loves on the other what would he do?” and we KNOW ned picked love. ned loved his sister so much he lied to his king and bff to protect jon. ned loved his daughter so much he sacrificed his honor and duty to the realm and lied to protect sansa.

the writers intentionally put sansa at the center of jon and dany’s conflict. sansa’s not in king’s landing during the battle in 8x05 or 8x06 but she still haunts the narrative, her name is brought up by FOUR different characters. jon was ready to die if dany saw him as a threat to the throne. “i'm tired of fighting it’s all i've done since i left home.” and the only way to get through to him and to get him to fight again and to kill dany is to mention sansa and how she’ll never be safe with dany around. “if we don’t take back the north we’ll never be safe i want you to help me but i'll do it myself if i have to.”

and sansa is so used to being alone. she spent months waiting for robb to rescue her from king's landing, and it never happened. robb chose the north, his duty, over her. and she's beaten for the north's independence and then sold to two different families who stole the north from her. and then she finally finds help in theon and brienne and podrick but she doesn't feel completely safe again until she's in jon's arms. but even then she's still ready for more disappointment, to be separated from her family again because “life is not a song” and “there are no heroes.” but jon isn’t robb. “jon isn’t tormund. jon isn’t davos, or the red woman, or stannis for that matter. jon is jon.”

“where will you go? where will we go. i won’t ever let him touch you again. we need to trust each other. until i return the north is yours. touch my sister and i’ll kill you myself. what you did for her is the only reason i’m not killing you. i’m her family too. what about everyone else? what about the other people who think they know what’s good? i’ll protect you, i promise. no one can protect me, no one can protect anyone.” but jon proves her wrong, he can protect her. he will keep her safe. because when his day comes and he has to chose between love and duty, he chooses her. there still are heroes in her story and their story isn't over yet.

[giotanner]

Captain John Price formed a team, not a family. But sometimes the line is blurred in battle between "brothers in arms". And promises are like fire on the skin, because said in moments your soldiers will never forget. So when Simon “Ghost” Riley is imprisoned Task Force 141 is not just “one for one,” it is looking for a brother. And when Price finds him again the smile is all “well, I told you I wouldn't have you in this godforsaken shitho|e, didn't I?” no more corrupt COs, no men left behind.

(The hatching of the last drawing hurt my hand for a few hours, but hey it was worth it! Hope you enjoy COD fandom!)

Tiktok | please support me on ko-fi

[lesliemeyers]

y'know thats pretty goth

[constantcrisis19]

Peer Pressure - Part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O

AN: I originally wanted this to be a oneshot, but the premise kinda got away from me and I ended up having to split it into two parts. Hope you enjoy reading about two stubborn idiots dancing around each other! Will their mutual pining be resolved in the next part... stick around to find out!

Word Count: 2,372

You howled with laughter as you leaned back in your seat on the couch, clutching at your aching stomach and wheezing when Soap shot you a glare that wasn’t nearly as effective as he probably would’ve liked due to how watery and bloodshot his eyes were. The Scot was seated across from you on the other couch, his body practically vibrating as he tried to breathe through the pain of chugging hot sauce straight from the bottle.

Gaz’s own pleasant laugh joined yours as Soap slammed the glass bottle down onto the coffee table between you and pushed it as far away from himself as he could manage as he coughed, the sound quickly followed by a sniffle miserable enough that you pushed yourself to your feet in order to go and grab the box of tissues that was on the table where Ghost and Price where playing cards.

“Hey, Ghost. You winning or losing?” Ghost turned his head just enough to watch you as you approached, his dark eyes still as intense as they were when lined with coal despite the fact that the man was wearing one of his worn blaclavas as opposed to his usual skull mask, the bottom half rolled up to reveal his mouth and the lit cigarette that he had pinched between scarred lips.

“You tell me.” Ghost muttered boredly as he angled his cards in a way that allowed you to see his hand without revealing his cards to Price, who was lazily puffing on a cigar as he watched the two of you interact with an amused quirk to his mouth. 

“Hmm. I don’t know, sir.” You mused as you leaned in closer to speak directly into his ear in order to avoid being overheard by Price. “I think you might have to make your peace with the fact that you have a shit poker face without your mask.” 

You watched with barely concealed glee as Ghost’s brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before widening in shock, his mouth snapping shut and cutting off whatever –no doubt– scathing response he was gearing up to dish out when you brushed your palm over his arm and up to his shoulder, the solid muscles hidden underneath his oversized sweatshirt flexing at the teasing contact.

You flashed him a toothy smile when he didn't shrug off the touch and left your hand on his shoulder as you leaned forward in order to reach for the box of kleenex with your other hand, giving him one last friendly pat on the shoulder before pulling away and making your way back to where Gaz and Soap had devolved into throwing crude barbs at each other.

You carelessly flopped down onto the couch next to Soap and lazily tossed the box into his lap, the Scot pausing his petty squabbling with Gaz in favor of roughly pulling several tissues from the box before shoving the wadded up kleenex under his running nose.

“I thought ye two were about ta save us the fuckin’ misery of watchin’ ya dafties continue ta dance around each other an’ finally kiss.” Soap stated as soon as he had cleared his sinuses, the Scot leaning forward with the intent to place his disgusting tissues onto the coffee table, the movement promptly halted when you placed a hand on his chest and shoved him back into the cushions with a dirty look.

“Read one too many bodice rippers have we, Suds?” You snapped back as you pointed over to the trash can located in the tiny kitchen space like the twenty-something year old Scottsman was just a child, much to Gaz’s amusement if his barely muffled chuckles were any indication. “Wash your hands. And eat some butter while you’re over there, it’ll help with the pain.” You recommended as you released him from his seat, the Scot pushing to his feet with the used tissues in hand.

“Piss off.” Soap grumbled petulantly as he wandered away toward the kitchenette, briefly pausing his trek and tossing the tissues that he was holding into the wastebasket before continuing on to the sink. Your eyes tracked his movements as he flicked the water on and pumped a sizable dollop of soap into his hands before scrubbing rigorously.

Once he was finished with that, instead of using a paper towel like a normal person, you watched as the Scot wiped his hands off on his jeans like a heathen before moving over to the  fridge, the man bending over slightly in order to rummage through its contents, presumably for something to help with his burning throat and tongue like you’d suggested.

“You started it.” You called after him before turning your attention over to Gaz, who had a wide smile on his face as he watched you and Soap bicker like siblings. You raised a brow as you met his smug, all-knowing stare and he subtly nodded over to where Ghost and Price were sitting, the latter dealing both of them into another round of what you were pretty sure was Omaha. 

“He’s got a point you know.” Gaz said quietly and you whipped your head back around to face him so fast that something in your neck popped and went warm. “Come on, it's glaringly obvious that the two of you like each other. You already have everybody’s blessing, I say just go for it.” Gaz shrugged, his smile going from shit-eating to something softer and encouraging.

“Alright, I’m solid.” Soap declared cheerfully as he vaulted over the arm of the couch and landed onto the cushions next to you with a grunt, jostling you hard enough that you slammed into his side. Soap took advantage of your closeness and threw an arm over your shoulder in order to trap you next to him, his keen eyes darting between you and Gaz for a moment before his brows furrowed. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope, not at all. Let's get back to it, yeah?.” Gaz stated, the other Sergeant sounding impressively convincing as he shook his head. “Soap, it’s your turn to pick who goes next.” He said in order to redirect Soap’s suspicions by reminding him of where they left off in their game.

“So… Elf…” Soap said conversationally as he slung an arm over the backrest of the couch behind your head –his frankly ridiculous bicep flexing with the movement– as a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You glanced at Gaz when the other man snorted, shooting him a half-hearted glare before turning your attention to Soap and leveling his faux innocent gaze with a flat, unimpressed look at his not-so-subtle attempt at revenge.

“You are so fucking petty.” You groaned as you rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to stab the Sergent when Soap merely ignored you, continuing on as if you hadn’t even spoken with all the bull-headed stubbornness of a true Scotsman.

“I dare you to convince Ghost to join our game.” Soap finished with a mischievous smile, his eyes practically twinkling with mirth as he turned his head to stare down at where he had you tucked under his arm.

“First of all, you didn’t give me the chance to pick between truth or dare.” You stated while reaching up over your head in order to take his arm and move it away from you. “And secondly, seriously? I have more of a chance growing gills and living out the rest of my days in the ocean than getting Ghost to agree to play fucking Truth or Dare.” You scoffed, the very idea of Ghost engaging in such a childish activity was ludicrous, and Soap shifted on the couch until he could turn his body to face you head on.

“Not up to the challenge then? That’s alright.” Soap shrugged agreeably and you felt your eye twitch, your expression twisting into a scowl as Soap leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs and getting comfortable. “We can just consider your turn over on account of you being a lily-livered milksop and you can do my laundry for me for the next-”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m not pussying out, I’m just saying that if it comes to blows, I’m sending him your way.” You snarled, cutting off Soap’s tirade as you abruptly pushed to your feet and stalked away from the two snickering shitheads still occupying the couch and armchair respectfully.

“Fair ‘nough.” Soap called after you, the smile obvious in his voice, and you didn’t bother giving a verbal response, merely settling for flicking him off over your shoulder without bothering to turn around. 

You shook your head with a reluctant smile when the cackling behind you grew louder with the gesture, your determined march slowing some as you approached the table for a second time, Price and Ghost right where you’d left them, only this time Price was puffing on a cigar and the two were locked in the midst of a new game.

“Price, sir, I need to borrow Ghost for a bit.” You said, shamelessly interrupting the two as you brought your hands behind your back, your left hand gripping your right wrist in a lazy mimicry of parade rest. Price looked up from his cards, raising a single brow at you from under his stupid hat before he reached up with his free hand in order to pull the cigar away from his mouth in preparation to speak, but Ghost beat him to it.

“What for?” Ghost asked, reaching out to take the cigar when Price offered it to him. You tried and failed not to stare as Simon rolled up his mask until it was bunched up over the bridge of his nose before taking a puff and slowly letting the smoke trickle out from between his full lips.

“Need a fourth player.” You said after clearing your throat and shifting your weight from foot to foot, fighting the blush that wanted to brighten your cheeks when Ghost's eyes lazily slid down your body to stare at your scuffed up boots at the restless movement before the corner of his lips quirked up into a smug smile.

“Seemed to be doing just fine without me.” Ghost said, his tone giving away none of his obvious amusement –as if he'd forgotten that his mask wasn't hiding his face from view– and you shifted position in order to cross your arms over your chest as you breathed a deep sigh of defeat.

“Well, looks like I owe Soap a favor then since I couldn't complete my turn.” You mused solemnly as your previously confident expression melted into one of faux resignation, and you had to resist the nearly overwhelming impulse to give up the charade and laugh when you saw Ghost visibly perk up at your statement, his sudden interest in the proceedings obvious enough that even Price cracked a smile at his expense.

“That so?” Ghost drawled with a disinterested tone, completely contradicting the intense way that he was watching you, his keen eyes searching and serious as you spoke.

“Yeah.” You said, drawing out the word as you frowned, forcing your gaze away from Ghost’s in favor of staring at the wall just behind his broad shoulder. “And you know how much of a flirt he is, I can only imagine what he might choose as his prize.” You said suggestively, silently reveling in the way Ghost’s dark eyes narrowed at the implications behind your words, the man carefully setting his cards face down onto the table.

You resisted the urge to grin or pump your fist in victory at Ghost taking the bait, aware of how intently the man was watching you, and instead settled for staring back, careful not to give anything away cause while you knew that you would most likely only end up doing Soap’s laundry like he’d said, Ghost didn’t know that, and you could use that to your advantage.

“S’pose I could use a break from cards.” Ghost finally said before he rose from his seat, some of your triumphant smugness dissipating once the Lieutenant stood in front of you at his full height, his imposing stature causing him to loom over you somewhat threateningly.

“That's great, Lt. You're really doing me a solid by…” You trailed off mid sentence, planting your feet and swallowing against the growing urge to back away as Ghost slowly approached until he was standing in front of you with only inches of space left between the two of you, the man using his full height in order to loom over you in a way that usually had recruits wetting themselves in fear.

“Can’t leave you to suffer Johnny's depraved whims.” Ghost murmured softly as he leaned down into your personal space, the hot breaths fanning out over your face smelling of tobacco and mint. You swallowed audibly as you realized how close his face was to yours –your lips mere centimeters from touching–and you flushed with embarrassment at the turn your inner musings had taken when Ghost pulled back, allowing you to catch sight of his teasing smile before he rolled his mask back down over his face.

You were frozen in place for a few moments, Ghost moving past you in order to make his way over to the sitting area where Soap and Gaz were impatiently waiting for you to return, before you were able to shake yourself out of your daze and glare daggers at Ghost’s wide back.

“My hero.” You muttered under your breath before releasing a deep, long-suffering sigh, only bothering to pry your furious gaze from Ghost when you heard Price snort from where he was still seated at the table. You reluctantly turned to meet Price’s neutral gaze, rolling your eyes in exasperation when the man lifted a single brow, his smile the same one he wore when he knew something someone else didn’t. 

You shot him an irritable scowl and flicked him off, ignoring the sharp bark of laughter that your childish antics earned you in favor of pivoting around on your heel in order to follow after Ghost without a word, quickening your step until you caught up to the Lieutenant.

Prompt: Truth or Dare

[mikeluciraphgabe]

Gaz: Ok so, zombies are all around you and you’re about to die. Do you sacrifice ghost or yourself?

Soap: Ghost, obviously

Ghost, severely offended: You didn’t even think about it!

Soap: It’s only because you’re hot. If I died, you’d end up helping and saving someone on a random day from a small group of zombies. After you save them, you two become friends and end up having this really weird slow burn of falling in love and saving each other all the time. Then, after a close call, you two would kiss and shit. I can’t have that happening.

Gaz: Soap, hon, maybe you should go talk to your therapist

[nekrosmos]

can u..... uhm... can u draw...nik...but pocket sized....like teeny tiny... like very small.....miniscule even.... please.. so i can Put him in my pocket and Carry him 😔 i love that guy...

I tried to make a little Nik .... a little guy to carry around in your pocket ................. hope this satisfies the request :3c

[konigsblog]

HEADcannons

price gives incredible head, it's the sensation and tickling feeling of his beard scratching against your soft skin that drives you over the edge, with his soft beard rubbing against your clit while he indulges in your sweet juices, being greedy as he laps up all your sweetness.

simon too, he's greedy. expect to be sucked at; your sensitive clit taunted by simon as he grinds his tongue into you, covering you in sticky saliva while your pussy seeps out sweet arousal onto his tongue. his lips will most definitely taste of you, and he'll make sure that you taste it when he makes out with you all messy and sloppy.

[machveil]

Guards! Maul his (FAT) ass!

Simon Riley who started laying down on his stomach once he started dating you. he never really did it before, but he did it once and you came over to just to paw at him. he grumbles and groans when you grope his ass and thighs while he lies down like this, but it’s all for show. he’s smiling with his face hidden from you, barking out little, “Oi, watch where you’re touchin’”s and, “Easy, sweet’art”s. sometimes he’ll throw on shorts just hear you giggle and feel your hands worm their way under the fabric. he acts like a grump but he melts when you knead the fat of his ass

[grimmroach]

bestie @rabidraccoonsaber gave me the idea of teen soap having a mullet. I agree. amen.

[slaughter-kin]

you can’t tell me the 141 aren’t all munches. you actually can’t because they told me themselves