#holy fucking shit I just. goddamn. this is good.

[dsireland86]

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp�� @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

"I'm so afraid/That the walls that I have made have locked me in/I'm not okay/But I can try my best to just pretend/So will you wait me out until I let you down?/So will you wait me out until I let you down" -Just Pretend (Acoustic)-

Everything falls apart after that. My erratic hunger takes control of my senses, blurring the lines between respecting or degrading her body. I told her I don't want to hurt her, but that doesn’t mean I won't. In the mask, I’ve become someone else; a bolder, darker me. It’s the version that takes over my mind at night when I’m all alone and sexual hunger is the only thing I can think about. It’s the version of me I’ve never let anyone see; until now. 

I drive the head of my cock into her entrance, seeing that I really am a lot bigger than her tight hole. I take a moment to stretch her some, in and out slowly so I don’t hurt her too much. But the further in I go, the harder it is to come back out. I want to stay in her, sink all the way into her until her ass and my groin are inseparable.  “The first time I touched you, you were so wet for me, soaked in your arousal.” I run my hand up her back, feeling her shudder, pressing harder into her. Her cries are alluring. “Then I heard you moan when you had my dick in your mouth and you swallowed every drop of my cum like a good little slut that you are.” I slowly fuck into her, forcing my cock deeper into her. “Fuck, Noah!” she cries. 

Folio’s watching me, eyes staring hard at us, as I'm about to fully fuck his girlfriend. I pull out of her, feeling her legs trembling. “Spread your legs more, Princess. I want to see.” My voice is like gravel, filled with lust. I’m aching so badly, my hardened cock throbbing from the slow torture even more than before.  With her ass raised high and legs spread apart, her pussy is very visible to me. It's pink and glistening wet with her arousal I dip the tip of my cock inside her again, just to see her reaction and she pushes back instantly, rutting against it like I knew she would. “Your pussy is aching for me right now,” I mutter, thrusting my tip against her entrance. “You want it baby, well then here you go.” With one hard vicious thrust, I enter her, letting her neck go and grabbing her hips as I pull back and give her another single, wild and aggressive thrust that makes her scream my name. “That’s it, Princess, scream my name,” I coax her. Another thrust. Fuck! “Holy shit, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around me! Goddamn, you feel incredible. So tight, so fucking tight!" I growl as I start to fuck her in the true sense of the word until I find a rhythm that fits us. 

Her cries are loud and brutal, turning me on to the point I grow and grunt like a feral animal each time I slam back into her, coating my cock in her juices. “God you fucking love it like this, don’t you, Princess.” “Yes! Ugh I love it, fuck, Noah, I love it.” “Yeah, I know you are a pretty girl. You like my cock fucking you like this, like a fucking animal, filling you in ways Folio never can.” She screams my name again, as I lift her ass higher, allowing me to fuck up into her deeper and hit that soft spot inside her again. “Scream my name baby, that’s it!” I yell, plowing into her from behind. For long minutes, the only sound is our heavy breathing, the creaking of the bed, and the slapping of flesh hitting flesh. I’m desecrating her like I wanted to, with the depravity of my mind and body, imprinting the shape of my cock into her cunt. She won’t ever be able to forget how I feel inside her. “Louder! Scream fucking louder for me,” I growl out through clenched teeth. Her desperate moans turn into a scream, but it’s still not good enough. 

“We both know you can be louder than that, baby.” I raise my other hand and let it come down hard on her ass, smacking the pail skin again, marking a favorite spot on her that I love. It earns me the sound I’ve been looking for. “There it is! God-fucking- dammit,” I growl again. “Noah,” she pants, moaning louder. “Right there,” she cries out. “Don’t stop! Right there!” I can feel her pussy clenching my cock, telling me she’s about to cum. “You’re nothing but a fucking little whore for me, aren’t you, Princess. You’ll let me fuck you however I want, especially if I can make that pretty pink pussy cum all over my tongue or my cock. Am I right, baby,” I growl, lifting her ass up higher to fuck her at a different angle; deeper and rougher. “Jesus, Noah!” she screams, as I find a different rhythm and position to fuck her brutally, shoving her thighs further apart as I’m hammering harder into her pussy. “Fuck,” I murmur, panting. “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” 

She’s gasping and crying, moaning my name over and over. “Noah,” she whimpers. “Say it again, Princess,” I growl, plunging deep into her pussy. “Fuck! Noah!” she gasps. “Who’s fucking you, baby,” grunting through another thrust. “Oh god!” she cries when I hit her g-spot. “You are, Noah. You are!”  I grab her hair and yank her back against me. Her hands are still bound and her tangled fingers hit my chest as I lock her hip between me and the mattress. I pull out of her soaking wet cunt only to slam back in with deep force, tangling my hands into her hair even more. I let out a strained moan repeating the hard thrust again, feeling her reaction against it. “You can take it! I know you can!”

Another loud moan rips through her, echoing in the room. It’s the very thing I need to push harder into and begin to truly fuck her like she deserves; fast and relentlessly.  Folio slips the black ski mask on and watches us from across the room, seated in the comfort of the gray couch that’s pushed up against the wall. Moments ago I watched him finger fuck her as I at her out until she came all over my face. It was so pornographic, deranged and fucked up what he and I did to her at the same time but holy fuck was it satisfying. It made every desire of possessing her mind and body come alive, fully waking the demon I’d been trying so hard to keep away. 

“What’s wrong, Folio? Don’t you like what you see? Listen to her! She sounds so beautiful, just like this morning,” I taunt him, using the girl below me for my pleasure alone. She’s trying to hold out and not cum, but at the pace I’m fucking her at, she won’t last much longer. I feel the familiar build up in my groin, telling me I won’t wither. My grunts are abundant, my breathing is heavy. Spitting on my fingers, I reach around and find that spot of her clit and rub it, knowing fully well it’s all she needs to push her over the edge. “Oh god, Noah, fuck! Noah, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Folio stands before her, completely wrecked from everything he’s watching. He says nothing, just silently watches as his girlfriend comes apart for me. “You wanna cum, pretty girl?” “Yeah, Noah, please,” she begs. I kiss her shoulder and give her the okay. “Alright, then cum for me baby. Cum so I can spill myself all over you!”

Finally, her pussy gives in and she explodes around my cock, screaming my name as she does. Her body is trembling as I continue fucking her through her orgasm, feeling that same familiar pressure. “Shit, goddammit Princess, I’m about to cum, f-fuck!” I growl thrusting hard into her one more time, ripping the black ski mask off, before pulling out and shoving her body back down on the mattress, spilling my seed over her ass and lower back. Completely out of breath I look up at Folio and grin wickedly at him before collapsing over top of her.

“I had the whole damn world and I gave it all away/What did I think I would save?/For better or for worse, this is my burden to take'/Cause I'm the only one to blame/You're so much better off/With nothing but memories” -The Fountain-

“Do you know how good it feels to have you lying here so vulnerable in my arms?” Her words cut my heart wide open. I close my eyes, absorbing the feeling of her fingertips caressing the skin of my face, over my lips, and down my neck. I slip a hand beneath her head and raise her up to meet my mouth, kissing her gently, slowly as our tongues massage one another’s.  A chill runs over my body from her hands running down my back and over my ass, making me shiver. My body is laying over top of hers. She has one leg locked around one of mine while I have her other one spread out and my knee gently pressed against her core. She’s tired, exhausted, and spent from everything that Folio and I have put her through. 

I’ve disposed of the mask, no longer hiding behind the face of anger. I’m unguarded, a complete open book for her now and I’m terrified. I’ve never let her see me like this and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I kiss her again, taking my time to taste every part of her mouth and tongue that I can. As I stare into her soft eyes, I no longer see the resentment for me in them. I only see love and compassion. What changed? I’ve been horrible to her for the last few hours, hurting her, degrading her, saying vile and mean things to her and yet, she’s right here beneath me, even though she doesn’t belong to me. 

“So give me something beautiful/So give me something else/I need another miracle/I really need some help, I need a miracle” -Miracle

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” My apology catches her off guard. She frowns, expression ridden with confusion. “I was stupid and inconsiderate of you, of your heart. I tried to blame everything on you and I hurt you so badly.” I try to breathe through the panic rising in my chest, but it’s hard to. “Noah, don’t,” she says, closing her eyes. “I know, I know, I’m not, fuck! God, this is painful.” I drop my head to her chest, and she sweetly presses me against her. My cheek lays partially on her breast, close enough to her nipple. I rub the end of my nose against it and I feel her hum in approval, and then I lick it, swirling around it with the tip of my tongue. She sighs, moaning softly and arching her back a little, encouraging me to take the whole thing into my mouth. 

Gently sucking her tit, my fingers find her pussy, and knowing it so well now, I slip two fingers inside her, sliding them over her inner walls, so wet and warm; still. I fuck her cunt slowly and as sweetly as I can, watching the mix of expressions that wash over her beautiful face. “Noah, what are you doing,” she breaths while I attack her neck with kisses, slightly covered with small purple bruises. “What does it feel like I'm doing? It doesn’t hurt does it? She softly moans, shaking her head when my thumb circles her clit. She digs her nails into my biceps. That's when I notice her tears. Her eyes are shut tight, but the proof of hurt slides down the sides of her face. “Hey, look at me,” nudging her face with mine. Her eyes open. They're glazed over with tears. My eyes dart between hers, trying to find the answers I'm looking for. Her fingers find my lips and I kiss their tips.

“I waited you out, Noah. I waited until I hit the bottom.” “But I drowned you out, didn't I?” She doesn't say anything, just pulls me down and slips her tongue in my mouth, kissing me like she needs all the air in my lungs. “Why did you pretend not to notice? Not to care? You saw the pain and the confusion in me. You knew you were hurting me. Why didn't you stop? We could've been together, Noah. This could've been our life.” 

Watching her tears fall is destroying me. Every teardrop is a stab to the chest that cuts open the wound that I realize has never healed. “I don't know,” is the only answer I can give her. I can't look her in the eyes any longer, so I turn away, digging into my eyes with my thumb and index finger. “You were good enough, Noah, for me. You were everything I wanted. And I wanted you so fucking bad. I needed you and you just fucking left me.” “I know, okay,” I snap, weeping softly. The pain I feel is too much. I don’t want to feel it anymore.  “I know what I did to you, and I have to fucking live with that choice for the rest of my life.” Slipping my hands around her face, I sit up and pull her into my lap. Nothing else around us seems to exist right now. I’m lost in the brokenness I feel, lost in the idea of what could’ve been, but what is at the moment just for a few more hours. Right now, she’s mine; only mine. I don’t care about what comes later. 

I’m hard for her again. I want to feel her cum on my cock one more time, but this time I want to watch her. “Noah,” she whispers, her breath shaky and weak. I slide my fingers through her folds and she’s already soaked. I lift her slightly, aligning her pussy with cock and shove myself into her, feeling instant gratification. “Uh, fuck, I like this position,” I sigh as she smiles with a light laugh and starts thrusting herself hard into me. “Noah, oh, damn.” “Yeah, I know,” I grunt. Her pace quickens, letting me know she wants to be in control. “You want to take over? You wanna ride me, baby?” She nod’s quickly. “Yeah of course you do. Alright, come on,” I say shifting myself around without coming out of her and laying on my back. “Alright, pretty girl, ride me. Make me cum for you,” I challenge her.

She grabs my hands and places them on her breasts as she begins moving up and down, working my cock inside her warm cunt. The feeling is indescribable. It makes me moan, curse, dig my fingers and nails into her thighs. “God dammit, Princess, that’s it. Fuck my cock just like that. God you’re pussy fucks me so good.” Her soft moans quickly become soft screams, which are suddenly silenced by Folio’s lips on hers. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her face back towards him, devouring her lips and her tongue.  “Make him cum, sweetheart, so I can finally have you back.” Folio’s eyes shift to mine and as much as I want to hate him and be angry at him, I can’t. It wasn’t part of the deal. I have to give her back. She doesn’t belong to me. She turns back to me, lowering herself to kiss me, dragging her lips and tongue across the skin of my neck. Taking me hands, she holds them on either side of my head, locking her fingers tight around mine, and starts to fuck me. Slow at first, fully talking my heart forever with each bite to my neck that she takes. Then her pace quickens and she fucks me harder.

“Oh fuck, baby, don’t stop,” I tell her, staring straight into her eyes. I can feel her pussy tightening around me as my cock twitches. She’s close. With every move she’s pulling my cum closer and closer to the tip with her tightness hugging it like a warm glove. I can’t push the feeling back any longer. The heat in my groin, the tingle in my cock, my sensitive tip, and the dead giveaway… my balls fucking ache. “God, Princess,” I pant. I’m dying to touch her, but she still has my hands pinned down. “Is this how you fucking felt, tied up?” “Worse.” “Fuck! I’m sorry! Let me go, please. I want to touch you.” “No.” I growl. “Let me go, now!” With a few more thrusts, she lets up, releasing my arms. I gather her in my arms right as I watch her cum on my cock for the first time. The way she bites her lip, throwing her head back and milking herself by grinding so hard on my cock, is all it takes for me to reach my end. 

“I wanna cum inside you,” I pant. Still cumming herself, she clings to me and whispers in my ear . “The fucking fill me, Sebastian.” “Holy fuck!” I cry, releasing my load inside her, filling her fully like she wants. I squeeze her tight, burying my face in the crook of her neck, feeling her kisses on the side of my face. “I love you, Noah,” she says breathlessly. This is her goodbye. “The past is over. Let's move on. I wanna move on.”  Kissing my lips one more time, I close my eyes as she climbs off of me, letting go me, and I fall back into the comfort of the bed. She really did let me go that easily; after everything I said to her. I’m exhausted; physically and mentally. I turn my head and see my black ski mask laying next to me. I pick it up, bring it to my face and breathe in deeply. It smells like her. I let the tears fall silently as I think about her, wondering what our lives are going to look like once the three of us leave this place. I know I won't be able to look at her the same, I won’t be able to watch her and Folio together and not feel jealous, envying him every single time he goes to bed at night. I know this love I have for her could ruin me, but I can't stop. And even if I could, would I? She and I are like fire and ice, destined to collide, but never meant to be together. 

She left me. Just like I left her. She destroyed me. Just like I destroyed her. And as I lay here alone, listening to the sounds of their love making coming from the bathroom, I suddenly feel so empty without her. Even though she was never mine, losing her broke my heart.

THE END

[ananxiousgenz]

(I know said art would happen, but uh, this happened first. Enjoy?)

1/?

John Doe stood in the cold water of the river. His feet were buried is thick, stoney sand. The surface of the icy water drifting softly past, half way up his shins. He leaned down, and scooped water up with both his hands. Quickly bringing it to his forehead, he splashed it over his hair. Rivulets dripped down the back of his head, and down his face. Leaving fresh chilly trails over his cheeks and lips.

He could feel the first shivers of true cold take in his muscles. His arms and hands were beginning to shake. His fingertips, and toes had gone numb too many minutes before. John knew his bath would have to be cut short. He looked further down stream where Akke stood in the water. Her head hung down to drink. John watched her, as a shiver ran up his spine, somewhat envious of her constitution to the cold.

“Ah! Dammit,” came a hiss behind him.

Akke’s head snapped up. She looked in John’s direction, past him. Her ears moving back and forth. There was a deep, exasperated, long sigh behind John. Akke snorted, and with a swish of her tail, turned and trotted slowly away, further down stream.

Every fiber of John’s being wanted to follow her. To get out of the icy water, and go warm up at their small camp.

But something deeper kept him rooted, as his toes grew colder. Frozen in place.

“Guess that fall was worse than you thought,” John said, trying to sound as cold as the river around them.

A series of low grumbles, and indistinguishable curses muttered low, was all that answered him.

John chanced a glance behind him. Turning ever so slightly, as not to disturb the water. Pressing his frozen, wet fingers under his arms, close to his ribs. Trying to warm them.

Arthur Lester sat naked on a rock, a little further upstream. His back to John, only his feet in the water. An empty burlap sack draped over his lap for decency, John could see the ends hanging over Arthur’s thighs. Scars dotted Arthur’s back. Some white in the late day sun, some pink, still fresh and healing. But the most obvious blemish against his skin, was a deep blue and purple bruise over his left shoulder blade. It had grown angry, and speckled as the days passed. Arthur had been moving slowly, and found it hard to use the arm since John had helped set it back in place.

Guilt ate at John’s stomach as he turned to fully gaze at the deep mark. Lost in thought. It was his fault. He hadn’t told Arthur in time. He had been too distracted as they ran, dodging bullets. Arthur had fallen so far. John had expected to find him dead when he reached the bottom of the hole. But he survived, and John was so, so thankful.

But he could never tell Arthur that.

Never.

“If you had just stopped when I—-,” John started, turning away, his words and tone betraying the concern, and the guilt, and the desire to find somewhere safe for Arthur to mend while John—-

“Oh shut up, John.”

Arthur’s retort was sharp, and quick. John’s every muscle froze, his mouth clicking shut. His teeth rattling his skull, as the cold suddenly felt so much colder. He felt so small. The guilt overwhelmed his gut. Arthur didn’t sound angry. Or even irritated. He sounded tired.

And above all.

Disappointed.

John saw Arthur’s head sink low out of the corner of his eye. He saw the fingers of Arthur’s right hand run through his dark blonde hair. His shoulders dropped, and he hissed in pain.

“Just…,” Arthur started, but he trailed off, and sighed, interrupting himself.

His head came back up, his shoulders too. But he didn’t spare John even a glance.

“If you’re not going to help. Just be quiet,” Arthur said sternly, resuming reaching slowly down into the water, with only one hand this time.

Arthur knew it was John’s fault. He knew that between their mission against Larson, and whatever had happened in the cabin. The fireworks they would never speak of again. John had been distracted. He had pit distance between them. A barrier. All to protect some part of John he wouldn’t talk to Arthur about.

And to Arthur’s credit, he hadn’t pushed John. He knew it was there. But John would either tell Arthur himself, or keep it locked away.

Arthur had agreed to work with John, and that was that.

Which is why it had hurt so much when Arthur forgave John for not warning him of the hole in time. Causing Arthur to fall so far into a hidden shaft. It resulted in a few fractured ribs, a dislocated arm, and a gash on his head, that would eventually give Arthur a new scar at the edge of his hair line.

John almost wished Arthur had yelled, screamed, maybe even punched him.

But upon waking up, all he did was tell John, “Its okay. I’m alive. Its okay.”

John stared at Arthur, as he carefully scooped up water. One handful at a time. Splashing his hair, scoop, his face, scoop, his chest, scoop.

He pressed his lips together, and after a brief, but deep thought, he turned to walk up upstream. The current wasn’t strong, but each step felt unreasonably heavy. Like John was walking against white rapids.

Water splashed on the rocks of the shore as John finally came up behind Arthur. Making sure their skin didn’t touch. Arthur stilled, feeling the heat from John’s skin despite the temperature still returning to his limbs.

“What do you need help with?” John said in a small voice.

I. YOU. I JUST. I WAS CHECKING THIS HELLSITE ONE LAST TIME BEFORE BED AND I FIND THIS SLIPPED IN MY ASKS???? CASUALLY?????? LIKE ITS NO BIG DEAL????? OH MY GOD???????? JAW IS QUITE LITERALLY ON THE FLOOR RN.

@percymawce-arts DUDE COME LOOK AT THIS OH MY GOD

[senselessalchemist]

Bow problems (+ other nonsense)

[ravenpureforever]

So guess who finally watched JJK

[whollyjoly]

for some reason i can't explain i know saint peter won't call my name

nothing that lives, lives forever - an immortal soldier!alton more au

(1.1k of snippets from my old guard(ish) au where alton more is old, too old, and has been living and fighting far longer than anyone should. full description/other thoughts at the bottom. tw: blood, violence, mentions of death)

Alton clicked the lighter closed, running a thumb over the silver case. The night was warm, sticky in a way that he never could get used to. He sucked in a breath from the cheap cigarette, letting his head fall back against the rough side of the barracks.

It was quiet. Typically, there would be no end to the commotion coming from the small building, one of many that littered Camp Toccoa. The wall of sound was ever-present, no matter if it was shouting or laughing or snoring. But whatever the cause, there was always noise. 

No matter if it was a blanket of noise he knew well, unchanging except for the language and the scenery. Soldiers are soldiers, and some things are a constant. It could almost be comforting, if it didn’t also mean that the need for soldiers was a constant as well.

However, tonight was a Saturday, and it was one of the few weekends that Sobel had allowed Easy the use of their weekend passes. Almost every man in the company had jumped at the chance to get off base, to travel home if they could and spend time with loved ones. The ones with farther-flung hometowns had spirited off to Atlanta, happy to spend their time drinking and dancing and fucking instead of slogging through another run, three miles up, three miles down.

Normally, Alton would have joined them in their carousing - it was easier to pass the time with the effortless camaraderie built during a training camp than bored and alone. 

But today had been a bad day. The sound of swords and the shift of sand beneath his feet followed him out of his nightmares, the humid summer of Georgia morphing itself into the baking, dry heat of the desert. 

His shouts must have been real, because when a hand came to shake him out of his dream, the first face he saw was not that of a grouchy NCO, but of a blood-caked Saracen, eyes alight with righteous fury. 

Alton didn’t think. He had grabbed the knife from under his pillow, an old thing that had been sharpened more times than he could begin to count, and was on the man in less than a breath, pressing the blade into the side of his neck. The familiar thrum of blood beat against his fingertips, the grit of sand scratched his gums. He knew what he had to do, had done it a thousand times, a thousand thousand times, what was a little more bloodshed spilled across his feet-

Alton had blinked, and came to himself in a rush.

Instead of an unnamed Saracen, the ashen face of Johnny Martin stared up at him, eyes wide behind the knife.

Alton drew back his hand, retreating almost as quick as he had lunged earlier. He mumbled a quick curse and apology as he stepped out of arm’s reach from the man. It wasn’t until Martin’s eyes widened even farther that Alton realized his tongue was slipping out Arabic of all things.

Usually, Alton was better about remembering himself, who he was almost as important as where he was. But for whatever reason, his demons had decided to catch up with him that night.

After a quick smile and some quip about the Krauts in his dreams, he managed to wave an only-slightly-mollified Martin off. The shorter man apparently hadn’t forgotten it though, if his watchful eyes during chow that morning were anything to go by.

Alton was just glad that no one else was awake to see it, at least. That was the last thing he needed.

And so, instead of joining in on a weekend of broads and booze, Alton found himself waving away the invitation by an eager Smokey and bemused Alley. When the horde made their way out of the barracks, fantasizing in bawdy terms about their planned misadventures, he felt like he could breathe easy.

Fucking finally.

~~

Alton took another drag from the cigarette. He watched the smoke curl, up and up until it faded into nothing amongst the darkening sky.

The lighter was a welcome weight in his hand, grounding him to this time, this life.

The design was worn by now, details barely visible after a half century of worrying. It still managed to amaze him, sometimes, what people could do with the smallest of canvases. Alton didn’t feel the same wonder however, wasn’t as mesmerized by the beauty man could create as he once was.

But in the quiet moments, he could still appreciate the time some French craftsman took to transform a hunk of metal into a small token carried around by a dead man.

Luz had spied the lighter one weekend, and laughed at him for using something so old-fashioned. Alton just shrugged, not caring to admit that he was still getting used to having a light at his fingertips. It wasn’t all that long ago when he was still lighting a pipe with a flintlock pistol, and not so long before that when he would carry around a flint and steel.

Time was passing all the more quickly these days, technologies changing and advancing, and everyone was obsessed with needing things to be quicker, cheaper, simpler. Alton scoffed. He could hardly find it in him to care.

He glanced down at the lighter in his hand, shifting it back and forth in a practiced motion and watched as the light skittered across the sides. 

It had shown flowers, once. A veritable garden of carnations, daffodils, and lilies of the valley, with leaves spilling across the front panel onto the back. They represent good fortune, he was told. Good fortune, luck, and hope. 

When the merchant described it to him, eyes ablaze with a passion known only to those with wares to sell, Alton didn’t try to hide the snort that escaped his throat. 

Fortune and Luck had abandoned him long ago, and hadn’t returned since waking up in a battlefield abandoned by all but the dead, sword in his chest and blood in his mouth. 

And what the fuck was Alton supposed to do with hope?

It was the quote on the back that had caught his eye, all those years ago in a street market in Reims. The beveled edges had faded with time, the familiar letters Alton traced were more memory by now than any physical mark. Une vie honorable est une vie éternelle.

An honorable life is an eternal life.

Alton couldn’t help but stare at the message, both then and now. He hated that goddamn word. Immortal. Unending. Eternal. 

They were such flowery words, used by people who craved what they couldn’t have, what they shouldn’t. The romanticized idea of the everlasting, the fountain of youth, the gift of life! Alton was sick of it.

This wasn’t life. He was a fucking dead man walking. And he sure as hell didn’t do anything honorable to deserve it.

months ago, while thinking about the absolute insanity of the almost...cavalier? attitude we see alton more have over the course of the series, an idea hit my brain: what if there was a reason nothing seemed to phase him - not panzers, not being a breath away from a car wreck, not bastogne, not speirs? what if this wasn't his first war? that thought spiraled me into a minor insanity that is this: my immortal soldier!alton more au, loosely inspired by the movie the old guard (2020). the idea is that, once upon a time, there was a soldier in a land many centuries ago. one day, he died in battle. and then, he woke up. and then he died. and then he woke up. over, and over. drawn to countless battles, conflicts, and wars, each one etching itself into the core of his soul. a never-ending cycle...until one sweltering summer, where he found himself at a training camp at the foot of a mountain. anyways. at some point, i plan on writing this as a full story, but that is admittedly a long ways away. however, in celebration of alton more's birthday today, i wanted to post my favorite scene that i've written for this au! it's set sometime at the beginning of the story, in the early days of camp toccoa. mostly, it's just a character study of this version of alton more. hope you enjoyed! and of course - happy birthday alton more!

(song insp.)

taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs @land-sh @ronsparky @panzershrike-pretz @theredrenard @kyellin

[jae-birde]

HOLY SHIT WE HAVE AN INTRO AND A DATE Y'ALL!

It's October 3rd, mark your goddamn calanders, we're getting season 3 y'all!

[waitineedaname]

I love cooking so much

[arundolyn]

ohhhh my fucking god nobody needs to like know any of this medical tmi but it is literally 11 pm and if im kept up one minute longer when i just laid down trying to go to sleep by my mother YELLING REPEATEDLY that she needs to pee. im going to actually go insane. she got a catheter in. Yesterday. it is working. she won't listen to anyone when they tell her that this is the case. help me jesus. im sure if a nurse comes to check on her tomorrow they'll probably get the same response. my brain will simply explode

[lili-of-the-wildfire]

the elaine slander in the azriel x reader tag is INSANE rn

[fear-ze-queer]

i did not expect to have my heart ripped right out of my chest while playing dlc for a five nights at freddy's game but here we are

[hazzzyrider]

just realized for the first time that Power was named POWER because she directly contributed and mirrored Denji's own slow accumulation of self-identity, confidence and EMPOWERMENT. She wasn't just a companion, she was his ally and defender even until the very end. That power inside him was so powerful it had to be personally torn out so control could be exerted over him again.

[blodeuweddschild]

Ryan Murphy fucking die challenge

[your-local-uwu-artist]

HOLY SHIT WAIT I AM EXPERIANCING EMOTIONS

"FAIR ISNT A WORD WHERE I COME FROM"

[criminal-sen]

Btw I found out the worst thing uiu can possibly do on this site which is. to fall down a rabbit hole of weird fetish stuff when yr half asleep and then. fumble your phone and accidentally slide your finger over the share button:)

[tshifty]

lmaoooooo im clearing out a shit ton of like junk photos and screenshots bc my google storage is full and wow

[perenlop]

Me: The PMD anime specials are fun but man they do so many little things and changes to the plot of the games that they bug me and I'm glad there isn't really a question that they're canon to the games or superior in any way

Also Me: Fuck you Special Episode 5 if you check the anime special you CLEARLY see that the Sableye do NOT fear Dusknoir and are his special little guys!!!!!!!!!!