#some of you guys would go crazy for this shit

[multiplicationdivision]

A Marathon in His Shoes

Charles had come to him in a panic this morning, donned in a different body and personality. He’d gotten some pair of boots from a second-hand store and been transformed into a middle-aged man, complete with a dadly outfit and mindset. Amir had barely believed the crazy DILF until Charles had pulled on another pair of shoes from the store, transitioning into a tired looking college bro the second the dirty nikes hit his feet, the transformation complete with a bout of gen-z slang Amir could barely understand.

They’d spent the rest of the morning ferrying a number of pairs of shoes back to Amir’s place from the Goodwill. Whatever seemed like it would create an interesting outcome. Amir had gotten his flickering light fixed when a pair of work boots made Charles a well experienced electrician. Charles had been able to explain literal rocket science when a pair of very worn sneakers transformed him into some NASA scientist. Charles had even abided by the guy’s NDAs, seemingly unable to shrug off that ingrained level of discipline.

Charles had come to him because no matter what he tried, the guy couldn’t become himself again. Every pair of Charles’ collection of sneakers left him the man he’d been transformed into, nothing of his nerdy self-returning. It was a problem that had fortunately been readily forgotten with the slew of fun that the guy was having, trying on a slew of personalities like they were costumes. Egged on by Amir who was similarly having a blast, running around his house as Charles became a host of random men.

The problem arose again in the evening though. The fun dissipating from Charles’ mood as time went on, especially with the onset of the weirdly toxic gym bro mindset. That and how disgusting sweaty clothes felt when the sweat never seemed to evaporate. Each body was stuck in the state it had been when the shoes had last been worn and most of his bodies weren’t in the greatest state. Charles seemed uncomfortable in most of them, despite the excitement.

“Theres still one pair of shoes you haven’t tried, you know” Amir said, walking to his shoe rack in another room. Atop it sat his other pair of trainers, identical to the ones he’d wore currently. Neon yellow where his were orange.

“Wait really?” Came Charles’s currently testosterone deep reply, edging with the frustration that his current muscular body always seemed filled with. “Hell yeah man” Amir said, quickly slipping both on before taking them off again and returning to his orange pair. Refreshing their state. 

He headed back to the sweaty man in his living room, handing Charles the trainers. “Put these on” he demanded.

Charles and Amir had known each other for years. They’d done everything together, seen every part of each other. High school to a college frat to working gigs, they were more comfortable with each other than they were with themselves.

Charles studied them against the natural instinct of his current body, forcing his steroid dulled gym bro personality to focus on the clean sneakers in his dirty muscular hands. The Charles in the guy cutting through the tense anger of his body, shooting a slightly surprised expression shot back at Amir. Amir was never one to share, especially something so deep as this.

Charles was stuck as someone else. That seemed to be the deal. Completely unable to return to a state that was just him, loving little shit as he was. Charles couldn’t go back to the man that was honest with every fraction of his life, laying himself bare to Amir. Amir wasn’t vulnerable like that, always anxious to expose the parts of himself that he was so terrified of.

He found himself giving his pair of prized trainers anyways. It made too much sense. Every other body that Charles wore fit awkwardly on him, the personalities fighting the stranger that slipped them on. Charles himself seemed wary of the ways they changed him, no matter how fun spouting facts and skills was. He couldn’t trust them, but he could trust Amir.

“Really?” Charles asked nervously, looking at his fidgeting best friend. Amir nodded despite his nerves, terrified yet oddly excited. This was an extreme way of bonding, baring his life and soul to a friend. It felt right though.

Charles shrugged off the dirty sneakers still saturated with sweat and slipped on Amir’s sneakers over the gym bro’s damp socks. The man shivering as his body shifted, his musculature decreasing as the sweaty clothes warped into a reflection of Amir’s outfit. The odor of BO becoming pleasant as Amir’s aftershave and cologne now wafted off of two bodies.

Charles’ nervousness at Amir’s gesture twisted into relaxation as Amir’s personality fit comfortably against his. The slump of his shoulders as the tension evaporated made Amir feel warm, his own anxious energy dissipating itself as Charles appeared to fully relax into his new body.

“Damn you feel good” Charles said and Amir couldn’t even muster a thanks, distracted as Charles felt out his new limbs with a smile. Amir had a slew of insecurities about his own body, anxious that he wasn’t smart enough, jack enough, attractive enough. Those worries seemed insane now, watching his friend truly enjoy it all, as if it was a comfy blanket.

“You all good Amir?” his own voice said to him, peering through Amir’s faltering insecurities. “You just wear my body well” he replied, voice low as his heart beat faster and faster. Charles got closer and Amir could see a uniquely Charles smile form on Amir’s lips.

“I think it fits me better than my original one” Charles admitted, his eyes traveling over every bit of Amir’s body that were now his. He had every bit of Amir’s life in his mind so he knew what Amir intended.

If Charles needed a new body that he could feel good in, Amir’s was his. Amir was willing for the man to have everything from him, because Amir wanted Charles to have everything. Amir had wanted that for so long, and it was overwhelming to hear the flirtation now focused on him.

“Always loved your arms you know” Charles said, tracing the lines of his hands. “Felt them around me in college and I never really wanted that to end”. Amir wanted nothing more than to tackle the man at that, fall together on his shitty couch.

“Was pretty wary about your new hair, honestly” Charles continued with a laugh as he felt the buzzed sides. “Thought your shaggy mess was cute, but I’ll admit that this has grown on me”, he said, breaking some boundary between the two of them as he compared the prickly sensation of his hair with Amir’s identical sides, his hand caressing Amir’s undercut. It should’ve felt the same as when Amir touched it, but there was too much of his best friend in this. It lit his nerve endings up like fire. “Liked it so much that I wanted a cut to match, but I think I like this more”

“What are you doing Charles?” Amir said, feeling something fundamentally shifting in how they would go forward. That was bound to happen when you gave your body and soul though.

“I used to be mad about being shorter than you, you know” Charles said as he pulled close to him, the scent of Amir’s toothpaste on his breath. “I was mad about how you were better at basketball and getting things from high shelves, sure.” He paused, like he was himself being honest for the first time.

“I think I was mostly mad that I couldn’t kiss you” he said with a final gentle move, pressing his lips into their twin. It felt like electricity, all the shock and want shooting from Amir into Charles. He didn’t kiss like Amir, all full of devouring need for more. Not held back at all by the hesitation of his current body, infecting Amir himself with an aspect of Charles.

Amir felt himself truly open up to this man. Let Charles take over as they fell to the couch. The man used his knowledge of Amir’s life against him, drawing from his fantasies with finesse, pressing down on his shoulders with a fervor that belied fucking years of mutual tension. Charles held both his and Amir’s collection of memories fantasizing about each other and Amir found himself stuffling a laugh as they tumbled across each other.

“You could have kiss me” he choked out, gasping as Charles wormed his way down past his boxers, hand already clasped around his cock like Amir liked it, just the right amount of pleasure. “Just cause I was taller than you didn’t mean it would’ve been that difficult” he joked, using his own weaknesses against Charles as he groped the guy’s own cock beneath his jeans, knowing how the sensation of his boxers against his cock would drive the man wild. As predicted, the man was caught between his own choked laugh, eyes widening as he tried to compose himself.

They played a game together. “You cannot judge me you mountain” Charles gasped as Amir pulled own his pair of Amir’s favorite jeans. “I have my own hangups too you know-“ he just about said, before Amir teased his hard dick with his lips.

“Get used to being a mountain ‘Amir’ ”, Amir said playfully, leaving Charles to look almost offended at his new strange pet name before the guy whimpered at the feeling of Amir’s full devotion to his cock, calling upon years of TMI from his best friend about what he liked in sex. Amir remembered right, Charles going limp as Amir blasted his neurons. It made him want to further blast the guy’s brain, feeling Charles’ moans rendered in his Amir’s husky voice.

Charles came in his mouth and on his shirt. It was exactly how his cum was from his curious years as a teenager, ropey salty fluid across his tongue. Charles seemed all the more desperate to get a taste himself, quick to return the favor. Pulled himself down to Amir’s precum wet jeans and tore down the boxers Charles likely remembered buying like he’d done so himself. They still both wore their trainers, the rubber soles knocking across each other as the two repositioned so Charles could get his fill.

“Hope you feel exactly what I felt fucker” Charles demanded, using Amir’s own technique against him. The rhythm and motion that he knew Charles loved was now turned on him, the feeling better than every fuck he’d had before. Charles seemed to use his own very recent experience in feeling it in Amir’s own body to perfect it on the man’s own cock, modifying it to strike at the right nerves at just the right time.

Hot tears flowed down Amir’s face when he came, feeling the cum spurt nearly identically across Charles’ shirt, making them a mirror again. Two men with their bodies a mess of sweat, identical pairs of jeans and boxers pushed to their ankles as they lay slumped on top each other on a truly shit couch.

“Holy fuck was that better than everything we’d both hoped for” Charles breathlessly exclaimed; his breath warm against Amir’s face. He likely knew, having Amir’s whole life at his fingertips. That large breach of privacy was becoming so much less terrifying at the sheer potential of it, letting this man know exactly how to play him.

“Can you stay?” Amir said without thinking, desperation in his voice. He didn’t even know what he meant by that. Stay as a copy of himself? Stay with him here? Forever?

“Well, my name is technically on the deed” Charles said, satisfaction in his voice despite the joke. It was something of an answer to both.

Realistically Charles wouldn’t always be Amir. It just was far too useful to abuse the collection of sneakers and boots they’d picked up. Amir would likely never need to hire a whole host of handymen in the future again, a suitable body for every job at their fingertips. Aside from that and whatever other fun could be had, Charles fit here. Fit as him, with him.

Their bodies together as Amir flipped on the TV. He knew himself well and they were both out in a minute, synchronized snores as the news murmured on.

[pastadoughie]

the tyupping wuirk is involentrary &ihave 2 actively go outof my way to coirrect stuff but

"can i see one fuckin post abt transguys that doesnt fuckin feminize & twinkify them 2 oblivion because it feels like u guys r just fuckin allergic 2 directing positivty 2 anybody who looks like a gender conforming man and its genuinely really fucked that the futrher u transitionj the less and less and less sipport and community you get beacuse going from "uwu !!!! pretty girlll ooohhh big booby womman!!!!" to "ewww grosss yuckyy disgusting evil man!!!!" isnt cool and #leftism enough, its not fucking normal or ok 2 treat trans people like an inharent fucking threat even if youre doing it under the guise of "ewwww men i hate men ewww gross gross groiss" u shouldnt have to fucking undercut your own fuckin bodily autonomy and happyness just to be fuckin accepted by ur communitey & yet thats something that literally every fucking trans dude (barring the ones that are just completely comfortable with just looking like a cis girl) has to fucking do !!!!!! im do tired of it!!!!!!!"

&then 4 the commic

"hi i would like some respect and bodily autonomy"

"noooo but ur a girl you have to be constantly aggreable and passive because if you show any emotion about being constantly treated like shit that makes you a hysterical crazy bitch woman whos fuckin stupid and should let the men do the talking"

"thats really stupid"

==> one testosterone later

"hi i would like some respect and bodily autonomy"

"noooo but ur a man you have to be constantly aggreable and passive because if you show any emotion about being constantly treated like shit that makes you an evil fuckin disgisting mysogenist whos fuckin stupid and should let the people with actuawl real issues do the talking. #feminism #transrights btw"

"thats really stupid"

imnot transalatingthe tags idont feel likeit

cani see onefuckinhgnjn post abt transguyz that doesntfuckinhgnn feminize& twinkifythem 2 obliuvion becauzeit fealslike u guyz r just fuckinhgn allergic 2 directtingg positivety 2 liekk anybodywho lookzliek a gendr conforminhgn man &itz genuinely rlly fuckd thatthe further u transitionthe less&less&less support& communitea u get becauze goinhgn fromm uwu!!! pretty girlloooohhhh big boobywomman !!! to ewww grosssyuckky disguytzyingg evilll mnann!!!!! isntt cool & # leftism enoughf,,, itz notfuckinhgnn normal or ok 2 treat transppl liek an inharentt fuckinhgn threat evn if ur doinhgn itunder the guise of "ewwwww men ihatemen eww grossgross gross" u shouldvnt have2 fuckinhgn undrcut ur own fuckinhgn bodiley autonomey & happynessjust 2 befuckinhnn accespted by ur communitea &yet thats smthnnthat literally evry fuckinhgn trans dude (barrinhgn the onesthat r compleatley comfortabl just looking like a cis girl) hass 2 fuckinhgnn do!!!!!!im so tiredof it!!!!!!!!

[ghostgirl-22]

artrick phone sex

I gotchu, my love <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! First time dynamics, angst, Art has avoidance issues like me.

Apologies this may be too long and full of my own personal angst I fear.

—-

“Art?” It’s Patrick.

Art feels his stomach sinking and now he wishes he’d avoided his call, again. He rolls over on his bed and looks at the sparsely decorated wall of his dorm room. It’s his first time talking to Patrick since… since…

He shivers and tries to put it out of his mind.

“Hey,” Art says and clears his throat. “What’s up?”

Patrick chuckles.

Art shivers again. Did his voice always sound that way? Or is Art just crazy still? He’s been really crazy lately. It’s been two weeks and he’s still…

“Really? What’s up?” Patrick mimics. “That’s all you have to say?”

Art shrugs for the benefit of no one but himself. “What—um— what’s wrong with that?”

“Oh I don’t know…” Patrick hums and then he sighs. “Okay fuck it. I’ll go with it. Are you okay?”

Art is still anxious, his stomach still uneasy. It’s just Patrick. His oldest and closest and best friend and yet he can’t relax. He can’t settle down and they're just talking on the phone. He can’t imagine seeing him in person when he inevitably shows up to Stanford again to watch Tashi play. Everything is different now.

“I’m fine, Patrick.” He lies.

“But you don’t want to talk to me?” Patrick sounds weird. Worried? A little. Disappointed? Probably. Sad? Definitely.

Art sighs, he doesn’t want Patrick to be sad. “No I— I’ve just been busy. We had finals last week. And um…. practice has been crazy. I’m um… I started seeing this girl and—” he hears Patrick huff a laugh but barrels through, ignoring it. “Sorry I missed your calls.”

“And texts,” Patrick adds.

“I’m sorry,” Art says again.

They’re quiet for a while. Art turns back to look at the tv. He was watching Sports Center, they were talking about gymnastics. Apparently there had just been some kind of qualifier competition.

“Who’s this new girl your seeing?” Patrick asks. This time Art can’t tell what his tone is.

“Uh well she’s nice, pretty. She’s actually not on the team. She’s an English major.”

“Sounds hot,” Patrick says, flatly.

“Yeah, she’s um— she’s nice,” Art says. “Are you—are you high?”

“A little. I won’t lie. Me and the buddy I was telling you about we smoked a couple and then went and got tacos and Margaritas. So fucking good. Who knew Dallas was a food town?”

Art laughs. He begins to relax, this feels more like best friend stuff. Maybe he was overreacting. Avoiding him for two weeks. But of course that wasn’t the only reason Art was avoiding him. “What happened to your match?”

“Uh well— I lost again. This shit is so fucking rigged.” Patrick complains.

“Dude that fucking sucks,” Art says. He sits up on his bed and looks around for his own weed stash.

“Yeah, it’s fine though. I’m going against this guy tomorrow, stats are all over the place but I think I can take him.”

“Whats his name?”

“Moussa or Mousso… I can’t remember but he’s French. Kinda hot, actually.”

Art feels his stomach flip flop again. “Uh… so what about Tashi?”

“She’s good, she actually answers my calls. I mean not tonight but she told me her cousin would be in town so…”

”Do you want me to beg for forgiveness or something?” Art says, smirking.

Patrick takes a breath and doesn’t say anything while Art is rummaging through the bottom drawer of his night stand. He finds the baggy he was looking for and sits up on the bed, legs crossed as he opens it.

“I’m sorry but I was honestly busy.” Art adds when Patrick still hasn’t said anything.

“Are we ever gonna talk about it?” Patrick asks.

Art stops moving. His stomach begins doing all kinds of things again.

“Look I don’t want to… I don’t want it to be weird,” Patrick continues. “I can do whatever you need. If you want me to pretend I didn’t fuck you… okay fine. But you have to talk to me because I’m going fucking crazy.”

Art stares at the television but he’s not seeing anything. He gives up on the weed and tosses it on the nightstand. “Yeah um… okay.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Art mutters. “I’m— we can talk.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No,” Art says. “I—“ he lays back down on his side and looks at the wall, pulling his knees up. He wishes with everything in him that they hadn’t done it in here. In his fucking bed.

He’s got it on a loop playing in his head all the time. Patrick crawling between his legs. The way he looked, hair still damp from the shower, freckles all over, pupils too big, blue eyes all sparkly. How he smelled, like vanilla soap and cigarettes. What he sounded like, voice so much deeper and softer than normal, saying stupid things like “You’re so fucking pretty”, “Gonna make you scream my name,” and then moaning when he got it in.

And how it felt.

God.

How it felt.

That’s the part that stays with him. How much it hurt. And then how much it didn’t hurt at all. By the end Patrick was touching something inside him and he was seeing stars. In between consciousness and some other plane of existence is how good it felt. That was the silly part. Feeling like he wanted it again and again and again.

He let Patrick do it again in the morning. Patrick’s arms wrapped around his waist fucking him on his side while he stared at this wall his whole body blooming with pleasure. And then just sitting with it for the rest of the day. The ache. The stretch. The feeling like everyone could tell. Patrick left that afternoon for the airport, sent Art a text. Well that was fun. Which he ignored. Called him that evening. Also ignored.

Art had been trying to avoid thinking about it ever since (it was impossible). He’s thrown himself into school, tennis, he’s even tried to talk to a new girl. It didn’t go anywhere. In his worst moments he’s even tried to flirt with Tashi. But then he remembers she’s fucking Patrick and his mind swings right back around to the way Patrick fucked him. And that makes him more crazy because now he doesn’t know what the fuck he actually wants.

And every fucking night, late at night he’s lying in bed staring at the wall touching himself over and over… thinking about it.

He doesn’t know how to say any of this to Patrick.

“Did you die?” Patrick asks, dryly. Even now since they’ve been on the phone, just hearing Patricks stupid voice is making Art’s stomach hurt, and his cock fill up.

“No… I’m just confused okay,” Art says.

“About what?”

“I don’t know.”

”Did you hate it?” Patrick asks.

“Not really,” Art murmurs.

“You’re so fucking full of shit,” Patrick groans.

Art sighs and realizes he just mindlessly put his palm on his cock because of how gravelly Patrick’s voice sounds. And fine. Patrick can make him crazy all the way in whatever fucking city hes in however many fucking miles he is away from Palo Alto.

“I’m sorry if I don’t know how to feel. I’ve never… I’d never done any of that before.” Art says quietly.

“And yet you practically begged for it in the morning.” Patrick says softly.

Art swallows thickly.

“I can’t get it out of my head.” Patrick continues. “The way you were rubbing against my dick before you even woke up properly. Fuck. I can’t get you out of my head.”

Art’s rubbing himself now. “I can’t either,” he sighs, he’s starting to lose it again. He feels silly. Too silly to care if Patrick can tell.

“Yeah?” Patrick sounds eager, breathy.

“It was… I still… I still feel it. Is that crazy?” Art says quietly.

Patrick takes a deep breath. “Fuck. You drive me so fucking insane. Are you fucking touching yourself?”

“’m sorry. I just…” Art says, closing his eyes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Art knows he’s never gonna recover from this but right now it doesn’t matter. He would stop if he could but he can’t.

”You still feel me?”

“Mmhm.”

“Feel me stretching you? you’re so fucking tight I don’t even know if it’s all gonna fit,” Patrick says, his voice sounds like it did. When Arts eyes are closed it’s almost like he can feel Patrick’s breath on his skin.

“Ah—“ Art gasps, grabbing himself properly. “I like the stretch.”

“You love it.” Patrick says. “You don’t even want to wait. Don’t want me to take my time, you’re just so eager you’re pushing that pretty ass back on me.”

“Yeah,” Art gasps, he rolls onto his back and puts the phone on speaker, letting one leg fall open as he jerks himself. “It feels so good—when you fuck me. Its too much. Im too full please… please I don’t think I can take anymore.”

“Oh you fucking liar,” Patrick moans. “You can take it baby. I know you can. You’re a little cock slut already and its only your first time. Fuck. You’re so tight.”

”So tight,” Art says mindlessly as he tries to ease two fingers along his ass, the way Patrick had done before he entered. “I wanna… I want you to… I—I miss you.”

”I miss you too,” Patrick says. “If I was there I’d have you on all fours taking my dick all night.”

“Ah—mmh— Patrick I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ Art cries. The fingers are enough… even dry.

“Come on, yeah… fucking come on my big fat dick sweetheart… come on.. nngh…” Patrick moans.

It’s enough. Hot strings of pearly white are suddenly spurting out of him and spilling everywhere, on his fingers and clothes. On the bedspread. He’s breathless, as his whole body goes lax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… I need to be in you again, gahhh..” Art can hear Patrick’s bed squeaking wherever he is and then he’s groaning loudly, and gasping through his own orgasm. “Oh god, oh shit… that was…”

“Yeah,” Art says breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling.

”Mm don’t fucking ignore me again,” Patrick says.

As relaxed as Art feels right now. Distantly, the pit in his stomach is returning. “Patrick… are we… I mean… are we still gonna be… friends?”

“Yeah of course,” Patrick says, easy. He yawns. “Always.”

Art feels tied up in knots but he can tell Patrick’s relaxed, sated, relieved even. If anything he’s going to be asleep in five minutes. No point getting any deeper now.

“You wanna fall asleep on the phone or—?” Patrick asks, yawning again.

“No it’s… it’s fine.” Art says. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Mmkay. Sweet dreams.”

Art bites his tongue to keep himself from saying something fucking stupid that he can’t take back. The line goes dead. Art stares at the ceiling for a minute, the three words he can’t say platonically to his best friend who he’s now fucking, are flitting about in his head. And Patrick wonders why he’s confused. He grabs his second pillow and pulls it over his face. He’s so fucked.

[centrally-unplanned]

Fuck seed oil discourse, fuck globalism conspiracy great replacement bullshit, the internet of today sucks. We have to go back, back to the way things were. When men, real men - who may have been catgirls to be clear since you never saw their faces - would tell you what The System refused to say: that your understanding of a battle from 2000+ years ago that you got from Westpoint textbook formation diagrams as bastardized by some other YouTube channel is an inaccurate portrayal of the event based on the 500 hours they spent building a brick-by-brick simulation of the battle in the Unreal engine. Enviously-autistic levels of devotion to a topic that is never, ever going to be politically or personally relevant a day of your life.

This is what the internet is for.

Anyway I only just started watching, but I can tell I am gonna be a fighter with dear Invicta up here. My bet is that 50% of this video's point is going to be the perfectly correct statement that the 1970's model of the battle that people have in their minds is wrong. Back when academics read Livy, read Polybius, and were like "yep, these two authors who are honestly contradicting themselves 20% of the time sound legit, let's take em at their word". Which is a valid point to make, obviously, I just bet the branding of the video will run a bit of aground of the need to cite the dozens of more modern academics who already know this. You have "you are wrong about Cannae" articles dating back to the 90's, and that is just one I knew off the top of my head - I have no doubt there are earlier ones. Cannae's sources are spotty, and our understanding of it will always be vague and debated.

The other 50% is going to be what I would call "model devotion" - essentially taking the conclusions of the model as a sort of gospel. But the model is, of course, built from the same vague guesswork as the spotty sources, and is a process of embedding assumptions. Right in the opening he declares that "once you realize how big the battle is, the idea of an organized retreat over a distance of a kilometer is impossible to consider" idk man I can consider it! Have you looked at military history? People do crazy shit, particularly when they are prepared to do it. If Nasir could lead men 600 miles across the desert to attack Aqaba by land, I think these guys can fight for a few kilometers. Doesn't mean they did, but in particular if it was so crazy contemporary sources probably would have pointed it out themselves (Polybius, not Livy - Livy sucks). People tend to over-assume the ignorance of the past - Cannae was a momentous event. Romans wanted to understand it, and we should extend at least some credit to them on that front.

But again, I have only watched a little bit of it - overall it looks great, really! He clearly did a ton of research and work, anyone who is building custom maps of the Aufidus River's historical floodplain to estimate various battle site locations deserves all the credit in the world. I will watch the whole thing, maybe he will convince me!

[wutheringwisteria]

Chapter 3

[ 1 ] [ 2 ]

TW: Mention of animal death and violence (forgive my writing, i do NOT know how to write fighting scenes)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

It all started with a dead bird as a gift from Jimmy to get you both acquainted.

Unsettling, and unwelcomed. But Curly had persisted you to accept it, even though he himself was a little disturbed by it. That was how you met Jimmy, a kid who shared the same class as you and Curly. He was a quiet one, and acted up a lot.

You don't know how those two clicked and became best friends. Maybe it was because Curly's optimistic view of people, or Jimmy is an excellent manipulator who managed to take control of Curly. You and the latter had a rocky relationship, barely even counted as friends.

He was like a cat. Specifically a cat that has every worst possible trait it could have. He mainly brought you dead things, birds, squirrels, bunnies, etc. and claimed that it was some symbolic way to show his appreciation towards you. Yeah, even if there were those sort of traditions, you did not accept any of Jimmy's gifts.

You tolerated it at best, foolishly believing Curly's words that "He's just different than others" and with some time, you and Jimmy would get along like two peas in a pod.

It didn't get better. In fact, his behavior towards you became even worse, turning into something darker—more obsessive. Jimmy had a sick sense of pleasure when seeing you cry or be distressed. He also had a liking in seeing you bleed.

So he was a lot more rough when hanging out with you and Curly, purposely provoking you into throwing hands, only to fight back and give you a bruise or two. He loved the way blood looked on you. Sadistic bastard. But that didn't mean he came out unscathed in your guys' little fights.

To add more to his derangement, he was also a goddamn masochist. Not only did he love to inflict pain, he desired to be hurt back. And little ol' violent you gave him exactly just that. Now you're both covered in blood in the aftermath of your scuffles, and poor Curly had to be mediator and nurse for the two of you.

"C'mon, princess. You call that a punch?" He'd laugh, mocking you while bleeding from his nose.

"Fuck off."

🫧

In the present...

Red. All you could see was red, both figuratively and literally. Jimmy's face was a bloody mess, and your eyes were stained with both yours and his blood. You had caught him off guard for a moment, and you planned to just plant the axe on his leg so he couldn't move.

But the man had instincts, and he managed to narrowly avoid getting his limb chopped off and disarm the weapon from you. The axe was now a few feet away from the both of you, but you didn't care and turned the whole thing into a brutal fistfight instead.

A right hook delivered to his jaw, making him stagger back. He counters with a direct punch to your chest—which made you wheeze out the air knocked out. He took the chance to deliver another punch, aiming for your nose this time. It connects, but you didn't let the pain distract you as you retort with a left hook. It hits him once more, and the force was enough to throw him off balance.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Y/N?!" He yelled out through red-stained gums, struggling despite his bigger stature.

"What I should've done a long time ago," you muttered, and then proceeded to grab Jimmy by the hair and slam his face down repeatedly on the metal pipes on the wall.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Now that you think about it, the Tulpar could use a nice shade of red.

You were sure that he had broken his nose by the sheer force you're putting your adrenaline-filled body in. "You think you can get away with shit like that, huh? Well you're dead wrong, Jimmy. I won't hesitate to kill you where you stand." You sneered, barely able to contain your anger.

You let go of him and he fell down to the ground, clutching his messed up face and groaning. "What... what the hell are you talking about, you crazy bitch...?!" He glared at you, looking like he didn't commit a heinous act towards a coworker.

You walked towards where the axe was and picked it up. You take your time walking back to Jimmy's fallen and battered form. "I'm the crazy one? Fucking hypocrite." You scoffed, almost sounding amused. "Oh, well. Think whatever you want, because those will be your last thoughts."

You ready the axe, and Jimmy tried to crawl away. But it was futile as you neared. You pressed the sole of your shoe on the back of his thigh, making him groan loudly in pain. Holding the axe up, you were about to kill him right then and there, but someone spoke up.

"Y/N!"

You didn't turn or move an inch, instantly recognizing the shocked voice of Curly's. "What... what are you doing?!" When you didn't answer, it only made him even more worried. "Put... put the axe down, Y/N. Whatever Jimmy did, surely it could be fixed in—"

"No." You cut him off sharply. "I already told you this, Curly. He is not someone to be trusted, he is not a good person," you glared down at Jimmy's writhing body below you. "I don't know what you see in him, but he is a monster that isn't capable of redemption."

"Y/N—"

"I'm going to say it again, I'm doing what I should've done a long time ago."

Curly sucks in a breath, his heart practically going a thousand beats per second. No, no, this can't be happening. So with no other choice, he pulls out the gun he grabbed earlier in the cockpit and aimed it at the back of your head. "Y/N. We don't have to do this."

You sighed. "Oh, but we do. Are you really pulling a gun on me right now, Curly?" You mused, tone dripping with false casualness. You still haven't looked back at him, keeping Jimmy on the brink of getting chopped off.

"Y/N," he calls out your name for the nth time. "Put down the axe, and tell me what the fuck is going on."

"It's simple. Just open your fucking eyes, Curly!"

He freezes for a moment, taken aback by your anger. "What do you mean...?"

"Do you know what this man did to Anya?"

At the mention of the nurse's name, Jimmy looked up at you with shock and anger plastered on his face. "The hell...? What did that whore tell you—?!"

You stomp on his leg, shutting him up. You meet his eyes. "That's right. I know what you did, Jimmy." Your grip on the axe tightened, so much so that your hand started to hurt. "And I'm going to kill you for it."

"Damn it," Curly places his thumb down the revolver's hammer. "Y/N, don't you dare make another move!"

Curly doesn't want to do this, but his job as Captain was to maintain peace and order in the Tulpar. But two of his most important people are at each other's throats right now, and he needed to make a decision before things get out of hand.

You suddenly swung the axe down.

Curly barely had the time to think, but instead of pulling the trigger, he froze.

...

...

...

"HAIYAA!" Daisuke pops out of nowhere, lunging at you before the blade could come in contact with Jimmy's face. "I'm super sorry about this, Y/N!" The former yelled, immediately wrapping his arms around your torso and keeping you pinned on the ground.

"What the fu—! Daisuke! Get off!"

Swansea appeared along with Anya. "Jesus, never in my life would I be running a marathon inside a spaceship," wheezed out Swansea. After catching his breath, he went over and snatched the axe from your hands with the help of Daisuke.

Anya had her mouth covered, body tense as she takes in the bloody sight. "Oh, Y/N..."

Curly snaps out of his stunned state, putting the gun down and rushing towards his friend. "Shit, Jimmy. Looks like she got you good, huh?" He tries to make light in the situation, but horribly fails when Jimmy glared and cursed at him under his breath.

The captain moved his head towards the nurse. "Anya, can you help me with this?"

Anya hesitates before nodding. "O-Of course..." she takes one glance at you before going to assist Curly with Jimmy.

Daisuke kept a firm grip on you as he and Swansea helped you up. His face shows uncertainty, and his head was probably filled with a hundred different questions on why you wanted to kill Jimmy.

"What do we do with her, boss?" He looked at Swansea.

"We drag her ass to the medical room, that's what." Replied gruffly Swansea. He was showing disappointment and exasperation as he looks down on your form. Bloody and high on adrenaline. For a moment, you looked just like his eldest when she got into her first cat fight.

"No..." you muttered through gritted teeth, struggling against their hold. "You guys don't understand, I need—"

"What you need are painkillers, bandages, and a damn good explanation to tell me what the hell you were going to do." Swansea interrupts you, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Anya's worried eyes flickered over to you, but she only pursed her lips together and continued helping Curly.

Swansea and Daisuke began dragging you down the hall, despite your attempts to break free. You and Jimmy locked eyes once more.

"I'm going to fucking kill you." You mouthed.

And the bastard had the audacity to smirk at your words.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Requested tags: @ninastasia0 @wolfsune09 @mybanditskeletoncowboy @angieluvssalami @silas-222

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip Whenever

Hey guys it's 43 minutes into Thursday and i'm line arting. I managed to get some writing done too so like both? Tagged by @skyrim-forever

Tagging @nyarevar @thequeenofthewinter @saltymaplesyrup @firefly-factory and anyone else interested. Tumblr's being glitchy. 0 pressure as usual <3 Right, arts

Working on some pre-oblivion era Josh since I talked about it so much yesterday. Almost done lining. And a bit from chapter 15 of Sleepers Awake

“B’vehk! Would you calm down!” The stranger yelled, sitting up straighter, “You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“Yeah, go fuck yourself!” Teldryn yelled, “Where the fuck is my shit!”

The mer sighed heavily and pointed to what looked like a carved, Cyrodiilic-style chest in the corner, just behind where Teldryn was sitting, “Easy, easy there. I put your things in that chest there for safekeeping while I patched you up.”

“You…what?” Teldryn grumbled as he looked down at himself. He was wearing a clean, loose linen shirt that was far too big for him. A fresh bandage had been wrapped around his torso, the top peaking out from under his loose collar. He was still wearing the same trousers he’d thrown on earlier that day, though they were caked in ash…at least the sections that hadn’t been covered in armour, anyway. He was missing his shoes.

“It’s unlocked if you insist on putting that armour back on, sera,” the older mer sighed, “You will find, however, that it’s a bit warped in places. I’d suggest getting it repaired when we arrive in Ald’ruhn.”

Teldryn felt his stomach lurch, panic setting in as his heart struggled to remain steady. He was already later for this meeting than he had any right to be and now he was making the whole situation worse! Cosades would have his fucking head for sure after this!

No, no, no, no!” He found himself scrambling towards the chest in the corner, pain shooting through his side as he started frantically tossing the chest’s contents about the caravan. He gasped for breath as his heart raced, feeling like blades against his ribs as his fingertips tingled. He had to get off this fucking bug! His life depended on it.

“Hey, hey. Slow down there.”

Teldryn felt a hand on his arm and he twisted towards the mer, watching as he dodged Teldryn’s left fist.

“Hey! I’m not here to hurt you!” The other mer said, his voice painfully soothing, just as it was back on the ship, “Calm down!”

“I can’t go to Ald’ruhn, I was just coming from there!” Teldryn cried as he yanked his right arm from the mer’s admittedly lax grip and reached for his cuirass, “I need to get off this thing. Now!”

“You want me to let you off Ara in the middle of a damn ashstorm? Are you crazy?” The other Dunmer yelled in reply. Finally! He’d roused this soft-spoken fuck’s personality.

“I was already stuck in an ashstorm you stupid fuck!” Teldryn growled as he struggled to tighten the lacing on his cuirass, “I’ll figure it out!”

“You’ll figure it out. Hey?” The other mer taunted, raising an eyebrow, “You know, I didn’t take you for a complete idiot but then again...”

Teldryn stared down the larger mer, who had now moved back to his original seating position, “An what’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged and reached for what looked to be a shard of scrib jerky and took a bite, “I mean you’re planning on wandering the ashlands this close to nightfall, in the middle of an ashstorm with armour that’s too damn broken to withstand the storm. Either you’re a dim one or—”

“It’s better than the damn alternative,” Teldryn grumbled as he pulled on his boots, wincing as the thick leather rubbed against a bandage that was wrapped around his shin, “I’ll take my chances.”

The older mer reached for his arm though hesitated when he saw Teldryn pulling away from him. He exhaled, his shoulders slumping already, “Alright, where are you heading.”

“Where am I?” Teldryn shook his head, “None of your fucking buis—”

“Hey! I’m not your enemy here!” The Dunmer growled, “I am actively trying to help you! How are you not getting that?”

Teldryn opened his mouth, closing it again as he failed to think of a reply. It was true, whatever his intentions, it wasn’t to hurt him. Gods! He’d had ample opportunity and the most he’d done was touch him. If anything, Teldryn was the one who was posing a threat. He was still just as easily startled as he was on that night back on the prison ship. Just as ready to lash out. Just as paranoid of strangers when he was feeling vulnerable and by the gods, he was feeling pretty fucking vulnerable! Whatever had attacked him out by that estate had really done a number on him. His armour was warped to the point of uselessness, and he was nursing more than his fair share of wounds by the looks of it. He’d perish overnight in the wastes if he tried to brave them now, though it was likely he wouldn’t last much longer anyway with this last fuck up. He’d have to be on his best damn behaviour just to convince this contact of Zainsubani’s to still take him as a client. No one was gonna wait around for hours for him to get his shit together. Especially not some stranger who apparently took bastards like him to points in the Ashlands all the time. Zainsubani made him sound no-nonsense and like…professional. It made him nervous, this whole thing made him nervous…

“Maar Gan.”

[dinsbeskar]

I'm in fucking tears

Babe this is absolutely gorgeous, I am gonna cry about it for a while tbh, I have no words!!!

He had no idea he would be able to see himself in a song written by commoners and yet, he sometimes wondered himself why the Valar had created him. And he often wished they had not. It would save him pain and suffering that he was not able to speak of.

Oh yikes I'm in pain already

Because Halbrand most likely had broken such promises many times before and Sauron had planned that, too. But now, looking deep into her eyes, he suddenly wanted to change his mind. He did not want to be like Halbrand – he wanted to be a better version of him.

NOT THIS DARK LORD TAKING HALBRAND'S WIFE AND TREATING HER BETTER THAN HE EVER DID, WANTING TO BE BETTER FOR HER

I WANT TO DIE

“I don't deserve you,” he admitted and caressed her cheek gently.

The high pitched dolphin noises that came out of me, oh my lord, the softness??? The tenderness???

Humiliating it was and very humbling for the disciple of Aulë to be reduced to the role of a common smith's errand boy.

He needs to be humbled!!! But he does it for her!!!! God I am in pain, I am swinging from the ceiling

Sauron didn't think much in that moment as the primal instincts took over him. He hid his coins away and hurried to (Y/N)'s stand as he grabbed the rude man by his tunic and turned him around.

“Are you bothering my wife?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

Mark me down as scared and horny!!! Love this for him, protective husband sauron gives me life 🙌🙌

“Oh, but it's different, is it not? This man deserves it,” Sauron hissed out and when he was sure that (Y/N) kept glancing at the guards, he allowed his eyes to transform into two snake-like orbs that visibly terrified the rude man.

OH MY GOD BABY NO (BABY YES)

That guy will be rocking in a corner for the next 50 years wondering who the hell he messed with

Hilarious

“If you think I am going to let some bastard treat you this way, love, then you are mistaken. If I must rot in that cell for a lifetime, then I shall,” Sauron shrugged his arms and Halbrand's wife looked at him as if he had just said something crazy.

It's the protectiveness for me!!!! Over some random woman he didn't give two shits about!!! How the tables have tabled!!!

He had been waiting for her to come and now he was shocked, nearly startled. As if he had forgotten already about his scheme.

Lmfao sauron pulling a 'new phone who dis' on galadriel

Sauron felt an odd tug inside his heart at those words. Even though going with Galadriel to Middle-earth and continuing his plan while leaving annoying (Y/N) behind would be an ideal outcome… He felt challenged now to refuse Galadriel just to show (Y/N) that he could do better than that.

It's the fact he cares about his wife's opinion more than galadriel's now, like holy shit I am clashing cymbals and blowing trumpets over here

“I know ye want to. Just go, claim the title that's not yours, go on. But don't be stupid enough to think she'd ever want ye the way ye want her. Please, husband, don't embarrass yerself by thinkin' she'd want a filthy, ragged commoner,” (Y/N) whispered but in her voice there was no malice – it was pure worry and concern. Love.

Nooooooo oh god my heart, bless her, like he's been better to her than her husband ever was and she's still like

Yeah go on then, off you go 😭😭😭

“I'm not that stupid,” Sauron approached her with hesitance and put his hands on her arms to comfort her. “I know you're the only woman who is crazy enough to love me.”

“But is that enough to make ye stay?” She asked and her lower lip trembled.

He did not answer but he pulled her close to his chest to wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head.

YES

SAURON/READER NATION, WE HAVE WON

Oh god this was so soft, my heart aches, they're so fucking cute wtfffff

What if it was a second chance for him? Not for Sauron, but for the real him – Mairon…? What if it was his chance to get redeemed? To be at peace finally as if all the suffering Morgoth had put him through had never taken place?

YES BABY IT'S ALL ABOUT BREAKING THE CYCLE

(Y/N) shifted slightly in his arms and he looked down at her face that was now lit up by the first rays of the rising sun getting through the window. At that moment, that common and simple woman looked like the most beautiful creature in the whole world to him. And she certainly felt like peace.

She felt like what, sorry???? Felt like peace, you say??? How about you come to my house and stab me slowly in person???

Dead. Just dead.

“What if I told you I was not your husband?” He tried to make it sound light-hearted as if he was jesting. “That I'm a spirit that took over his body at that time when he was away while the village was being attacked?” He looked down at her, nervously.

LMFAO LOL BABE WHAT IF I WAS A FORMERLY EVIL SPIRIT BENT ON WORLD DOMINATION??

It's like, would you love me if I were a worm, but on steroids 😂😂😂

“Ye're crazy, Hal,” she chuckled and opened her eyes lazily. Then, she tilted her head and reached her hand up to caress his hair. “But, mayhaps, I'd believe that, ye know? 'Cause ye've changed a lot since then,” she admitted and hesitated for a moment as she bit on her lower lip. “It doesn't matter, love. I love ye the way ye are now – more than I've ever loved ye, even though I didn't think it was possible,” she confessed and Sauron felt his heart swelling inside his chest as he leaned down to join their lips together in a loving kiss.

Fucks sake. Like she really said she'd love him as a worm.

My heart hurts again, thank you.

As he watched the ships sail away on that day, Sauron couldn't believe that he was simply letting them go. He saw Lady Galadriel standing in her shining armour, holding her sword. She was still glancing at him as if she expected him to jump into the waters and join them no matter what

I CANNOT BELIEVE

It was the first time ever when he felt… tired. In the simplest and most common way, he felt exhausted and his stomach seemed to demand to have a meal. He nearly fainted at the end of his shift and when he dragged his feet back home, he was yawning. Surely, it would worry him under any other circumstances but now he was simply too tired to overthink what could have caused it. Was it some sort of a curse put on him by angry Lady Galadriel?

WHAAAAAT

Is he becoming human??? Is that what's happening here, am I going to yell again

Sauron began to suspect that he was turning into a human for some time now but it took an unusual revelation to convince him that it was truly happening indeed.

FUCK

I am overwhelmed now.

Sauron took a deep breath in. She didn't understand – it was not about being fertile or not. It was about the fact he was a Maia and there was no possibility of him putting a baby in her without doing it with his own free will.

DADDY HALBRAND IM GONNA YELL AGAIN

Lmfao he was really like

Uhhhhh is my wife that I previously wanted to murder cheating on me??? *kill bill sirens*

“And you are going to be the death of me,” he chuckled and leaned in to peck her lips.

She was going to be. Literally.

This body would start growing old normally now and, eventually, he would pass away like every mortal. But maybe he would do that laying in a bed, holding her hand and surrounded by their children.

I AM UNWELL

He goes from murder plotting to nuclear family in the blink of an eye and I love this for him!!!

Oh god it's a gorgeous twist on the giving up immortality trope, I love it so much

When they broke the kiss, (Y/N) smiled widely and caressed her husband's cheeks lovingly. She looked ethereal at that moment and a crazy thought appeared inside of his head.

“Tell me, love,” he started and she raised an eyebrow at him, “are you a spirit sent to me from Valinor to lead me back on the right path? Have I passed the test?” He dared to ask and he could swear, there was a small sparkle lighting up her eyes for a short while. But then, she only laughed.

The way I literally did this

I'm headcanoning it now, I actually kinda love this as a twist, the Valar send him a test and he passes with flying colours so he can return to Valinor (but he refuses bc he'd be parted from his family in the afterlife and we can't have that)

He kept staring at her for some time more, then he went back to looking at the ceiling. And, eventually, he turned around as well to wrap his arm around the waist of Halbrand's wife.

His wife.

It was the "his wife" for me

I'm actually emotionally broken, like damn he really just adopted her as his wife, I'm??? Idek 😭😭

“I have something for you, too, Princess,” Halbrand assured her and took another item out of his pocket – a seashell made out of iron.

He had made sure it was crafted with the best precision and with all the tiny details, therefore it looked nearly like a real seashell. Only it was silver, which made it even better in his little girl's eyes.

GIRL DAD SAURON USING HIS SKILLS TO MAKE BEAUTIFUL TRINKETS FOR HIS DAUGHTER

IT'S THE WAY IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN

Aulë’s greatest smith using his skills for good not evil, I am emotionally compromised, I'm gonna go lie down

It was nearly as peaceful and beautiful as back in the day in Valinor. Mortals perhaps were not welcome there but, apparently, they could also experience wonders as marvellous.

MY HEART, HIS FAMILY ARE AS WONDROUS AS VALINOR, I'M GONNA GO CHEW CONCRETE

It would only bring her useless pain and he knew very well that her actual husband would most likely never do all these things he had done to make her happy. He would not love her right like he could.

Okay so he is the Deceiver, and of course it's based on a lie, but it might as well stay that way??

"He would not love her right like he could" once again, you come to my house and victimise me this way

After all, it was not the sunset but her and her brother that were the real wonders. And it was not Númenor that he called home but it was them – they were his better place.

THEY ARE HIS HOME I'M CRAWLING THE WALLS, I'M SWINGING FROM THE CHANDELIER

Love this was absolute gold, 10/10, 5 star, amazing

I love the softness, I really need it right now, it is healing my heart 💜💜💜

— SOMEPLACE BETTER (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!human(?)!Reader

SUMMARY — Lady Galadriel keeps convincing Halbrand and his wife to change their minds and go back to Middle-earth but Sauron is starting to realise that this new life might be his chance to start all over and redeem himself.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — As I warned, in this part Sauron is very ooc but I'm a sucker for happy endings... I couldn't picture it any other way with a mortal Reader tbh... 🤷🏻‍♀️ Although, whether she is really a human or not – I let you decide and interpret it whatever way you wish! 😉💝 The song The Reader sings in this part is called Lonesome Road and I know it from Joan Baez but I changed the lyrics a little so they could fit the fantasy world better.

WORD COUNT — 4,570

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

SOMEPLACE BETTER (III)

Even though he thought Halbrand's wife had given up on him already, it seemed to be quite otherwise. The guards came to Sauron in the early morning to tell him that he was free to go under a condition to never start any fight on the streets of Númenor ever again. Next time, the Queen Regent would not be so merciful. And now, she would even give him a chance to prove his worth and earn the guild crest.

Apparently, (Y/N) had spent nearly the whole night begging and pleading after getting an audience.

Free to go anywhere he wanted to, he simply decided to walk back to his new home and wait there for Lady Galadriel to show up with the next idea or opportunity.

It was not going according to his plan – (Y/N) had made sure of it. But it was still going well enough and that was what mattered the most.

As he was approaching the house, he heard a familiar voice singing a song as the sound travelled through the open windows and out into the streets. The voice perhaps was not the most talented but it was not awful either and he found it oddly soothing to listen to.

Slowly and quietly, Sauron walked inside the house and leaned on the wall with crossed arms as he watched (Y/N) with a smirk. She had her back turned on him and had no idea he was there as she busied herself with brushing her hair in front of a small mirror and preparing to go to her new work.

And while doing so, she was singing. Sauron listened with curiosity because he had missed many new songs in the time when he had been regaining his strength to go back to the world of living.

And he had never been familiar with the songs of common people anyway.

“They say all good friends must part sometime. Why not you and I, my Lord? Why not you and I?” (Y/N) sang softly. “Oh, I wish to the gods that I'd never been born or died when I was a baby, my Lord… Or died when I was a baby,” she added and Sauron swallowed a lump in his throat.

He had no idea he would be able to see himself in a song written by commoners and yet, he sometimes wondered himself why the Valar had created him. And he often wished they had not. It would save him pain and suffering that he was not able to speak of.

“Oh, I wish to the gods that I'd never seen your face, heard your lyin' tongue, my Lord… Heard your lyin' tongue,” (Y/N) kept going with the song as she put some rouge upon her cheeks. “You better look up and down that long, lonesome road where all of your friends have gone, my Lord, and you and I must go…” she continued humming and then she jumped up at the sight of him standing behind her with crossed arms. “Oi, Hal, I haven't seen ye. Forgive me, I know ye don't like it when I sing,” she got nervous in an instant.

“I don't?” Sauron raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“Ye always say it's givin' ye headaches,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Anyhow, I'm off to work now,” she informed him with a sweet smile and approached him to place a kiss upon his cheek.

He let her but when she wanted to move away, he grabbed her wrists to keep her in place and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“What have you done to free me, love?” He asked in a whisper.

“I begged and pleaded for ye, Hal,” she answered. “Told the good Queen ye're naught but a man who wants to work, with a pride that's hurt. I promised ye wouldn't get in trouble again. An' ye better not.” (Y/N)'s eyes filled with pain as if she knew already he would break the promise.

Because Halbrand most likely had broken such promises many times before and Sauron had planned that, too. But now, looking deep into her eyes, he suddenly wanted to change his mind. He did not want to be like Halbrand – he wanted to be a better version of him.

“I don't deserve you,” he admitted and caressed her cheek gently.

“Start, then,” she challenged him with a cracked smile and patted his chest before going out of the house.

And even though Sauron was tempted to stay inside and wait for Lady Galadriel to show up, he walked out as well and went to the forge nearby where he was supposed to start his own training to be able to earn the guild crest.

Humiliating it was and very humbling for the disciple of Aulë to be reduced to the role of a common smith's errand boy.

When Sauron was coming back from work, it was getting dark already. He was walking slowly down the steps and whistling the very same song he had heard earlier that day – the one Halbrand's wife had been singing.

In his hands he was carrying a few coins he had earned on that day and he was playing with them by tossing them in the air and catching them swiftly right after. As he approached the harbour, he spotted (Y/N) standing by one of the wooden tables and selling the goods to the people standing in the queue.

He wondered why she was left alone by the stand but assumed the woman working with her was having a break. And the closer to the market he was getting, the more he could see how stressed Halbrand's wife seemed to be.

“You useless woman, you can't even count properly, can you?!” Sauron heard some man's harsh words due to the fact his hearing was much better than if he was truly human.

“I-I'm sorry, I'm still learnin'. How much do I owe ye, then?” (Y/N) was trying to sound nice.

“You're good for nothing, stupid wench,” the man spat out. “Where is Bellona?”

“She had to leave earlier today. Please, it is no big deal. Let me just give you back the money and–”

“You should go back to Middle-earth where low women like you belong,” the man interrupted her.

Sauron didn't think much in that moment as the primal instincts took over him. He hid his coins away and hurried to (Y/N)'s stand as he grabbed the rude man by his tunic and turned him around.

“Are you bothering my wife?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Hal!” (Y/N) squealed, looking nervously at the guards that were already coming their way after sensing trouble. “Let go of him, I beg ye! Ye promised me ye wouldn't–”

“Oh, but it's different, is it not? This man deserves it,” Sauron hissed out and when he was sure that (Y/N) kept glancing at the guards, he allowed his eyes to transform into two snake-like orbs that visibly terrified the rude man.

Sauron let go of his tunic the moment he heard the guards standing behind him and the man hurried away as quickly as possible.

“It's nothin', it's nothin'!” (Y/N) exclaimed at the guards. “I'm closin' for the day! Please, let us go.”

The men looked at each other but since the other man had run away and did not file any complaint, they just shrugged their arms and walked away alongside the rest of the people waiting in the queue.

“Ye promised!” (Y/N) gave Sauron a very scolding look as she busied herself with tidying up the stand and collecting the money.

“If you think I am going to let some bastard treat you this way, love, then you are mistaken. If I must rot in that cell for a lifetime, then I shall,” Sauron shrugged his arms and Halbrand's wife looked at him as if he had just said something crazy.

“Since when are ye so gifted with words, Hal?” She chuckled and shook her head. “Anyhow, in that cell, ye won't be 'round to protect me. Foolish, it'd be, but ye've never been the brightest, have ye?” she pointed out and Sauron gritted his teeth with an eye roll.

She kept blabbering to him about her day while they walked back to their house and even though it was a short road, it felt like forever due to her talking. However, Sauron was very surprised at the sight of Lady Galadriel sitting by the table when they entered the house.

He had been waiting for her to come and now he was shocked, nearly startled. As if he had forgotten already about his scheme.

“Oi!” (Y/N) put her hands on her hips. “Is it not illegal to sneak up on folk like that inside their own homes, Elf?!” She asked. “When'll ye leave us be, huh?”

“The Queen Regent agreed to gather the army. They will seek for the volunteers,” Galadriel announced. “People of Númenor might not need you, Halbrand, but when we arrive in The Southlands, a strong leader will be needed. Someone to unite and show the way.”

“Someone to lie, ye say,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and finally closed the door behind her. “But go on, Elf, keep talkin'. I'm sure my husband'll agree sooner or later. Vain as he is, always has been,” she sighed as if she was defeated.

Sauron felt an odd tug inside his heart at those words. Even though going with Galadriel to Middle-earth and continuing his plan while leaving annoying (Y/N) behind would be an ideal outcome… He felt challenged now to refuse Galadriel just to show (Y/N) that he could do better than that.

“I have already told the Queen Regent who you most likely are,” Galadriel insisted, ignoring Halbrand's wife and looking deep into his eyes.

“You must be desperate,” he pointed out with a smirk and watched his angry wife unpacking the groceries from her wicker basket on the kitchen counter.

“Of course I am. And you should be, too. It is about your home. Why do you give up on it so easily?” Galadriel wondered out loud.

“It gave up on us long before we ever gave up on it,” (Y/N) turned around to answer her.

“This land was your place in Middle-earth. It was giving you vegetables to eat, grass to feed your animals with, clean water from the rivers…” Lady Galadriel pointed out.

“And what do ye know about it, grand Elf?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at that. “It ain't easy work growin' yer vegetables an' keepin' yer animals alive. One bad winter's all it takes to take away yer loved ones, yer cows, horses, an' chickens. I've no love for that land,” she stated, harshly.

“You can change the fate of people who suffer like you have suffered…” Galadriel's voice softened. “As their Queen,” she tempted and Sauron raised an eyebrow, surprised to see how dirty she could play.

Nearly as dirty as him.

“Me? A Queen?” (Y/N) laughed at that. “I can't even read!” She only said and turned around again to deal with the groceries.

“Halbrand, please. They need you,” Galadriel stood up and put her hand on his shoulder before lowering her voice. “I need you,” she added and looked down before leaving the house quietly.

Long silence occurred between Sauron and Halbrand's wife.

“Go with her,” (Y/N) muttered.

“What?” Sauron looked at her, surprised. She turned around to lay her wet eyes on him.

“I know ye want to. Just go, claim the title that's not yours, go on. But don't be stupid enough to think she'd ever want ye the way ye want her. Please, husband, don't embarrass yerself by thinkin' she'd want a filthy, ragged commoner,” (Y/N) whispered but in her voice there was no malice – it was pure worry and concern. Love.

“I'm not that stupid,” Sauron approached her with hesitance and put his hands on her arms to comfort her. “I know you're the only woman who is crazy enough to love me.”

“But is that enough to make ye stay?” She asked and her lower lip trembled.

He did not answer but he pulled her close to his chest to wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head.

Sauron was laying awake all night long as usual, caressing the back of Halbrand's wife and staring at the ceiling. He knew they would gather the volunteers on the next day and he still was not sure what to do.

The path he had chosen for himself was not so certain anymore. He truly did not mind the life he had here in Númenor and even (Y/N)'s presence was becoming less and less annoying to him. In fact – even though she had no idea who he truly was – it felt oddly nice to be loved and taken care of. As simple as that.

He extended his hand to the nightstand and brushed the pendant laying there with his fingertips as he remembered the very first conversation he had had with the heraldry's original owner – Diarmid.

“A sure path may crumble, but there's always another. Often, it can lead us someplace better. Someplace good. They say there's a place across the sea, a man can escape himself. Find another path. Perhaps another life.”

What if it was a second chance for him? Not for Sauron, but for the real him – Mairon…? What if it was his chance to get redeemed? To be at peace finally as if all the suffering Morgoth had put him through had never taken place?

(Y/N) shifted slightly in his arms and he looked down at her face that was now lit up by the first rays of the rising sun getting through the window. At that moment, that common and simple woman looked like the most beautiful creature in the whole world to him. And she certainly felt like peace.

“Is it time to wake up now, love?” She mumbled out, sleepily.

“No, love, not yet. I will tell you when,” he assured her.

“Good,” she smiled and nuzzled her face deeper into him.

“(Y/N)?” Sauron swallowed a lump in his throat as he fidgeted with the pendant between his fingers.

“Hm?”

“What if I told you I was not your husband?” He tried to make it sound light-hearted as if he was jesting. “That I'm a spirit that took over his body at that time when he was away while the village was being attacked?” He looked down at her, nervously.

“Ye're crazy, Hal,” she chuckled and opened her eyes lazily. Then, she tilted her head and reached her hand up to caress his hair. “But, mayhaps, I'd believe that, ye know? 'Cause ye've changed a lot since then,” she admitted and hesitated for a moment as she bit on her lower lip. “It doesn't matter, love. I love ye the way ye are now – more than I've ever loved ye, even though I didn't think it was possible,” she confessed and Sauron felt his heart swelling inside his chest as he leaned down to join their lips together in a loving kiss.

As he watched the ships sail away on that day, Sauron couldn't believe that he was simply letting them go. He saw Lady Galadriel standing in her shining armour, holding her sword. She was still glancing at him as if she expected him to jump into the waters and join them no matter what.

He wondered why she was so drawn to him, even after (Y/N)'s big mouth had made it clear that he was not any forgotten king. Could Galadriel feel who he was, deep inside?

But who was he? He was not sure anymore.

So, he looked away and went back on the road that would lead him to the forge where he worked these days. He was told he would get his guild crest very soon because they were in awe of his extraordinary talents.

Not only talent was his quality, though. It was also how much he was able to work at once and without breaks. At least it had been this way until recently.

It was the first time ever when he felt… tired. In the simplest and most common way, he felt exhausted and his stomach seemed to demand to have a meal. He nearly fainted at the end of his shift and when he dragged his feet back home, he was yawning. Surely, it would worry him under any other circumstances but now he was simply too tired to overthink what could have caused it. Was it some sort of a curse put on him by angry Lady Galadriel?

“Halbrand!” (Y/N)'s worried tone brought him back to reality when he entered the house.

She hurried to him and cupped his cheeks with widened eyes.

“Love, ye're so pale, an' the bags under yer eyes… What happened?!”

“Nothing happened,” Sauron shrugged his arms. “I'm just tired, that's it. I nearly fainted,” he admitted and sat down on the chair, sighing out of relief to finally be able to rest a little.

“Well, that's no wonder! Ye've been eatin' half meals for weeks now!” Halbrand's wife pointed out in a scolding manner. “We're not starvin' anymore, Hal, ye don't have to keep givin' me yer portions!” She exclaimed and approached the stove to pour him a bowl full of soup. “Here, eat,” she ordered as she placed it in front of him.

And, for some reason, Sauron ate all of it in a blink of an eye. He even asked for one more portion as Halbrand's wife gave it to him gladly but not without more of her whining about him being irresponsible. Then he asked for another and after three bowls of her soup, he finally felt better.

His stomach was no longer hurting at least, but he was still sleepy.

“Go, take some rest, love,” (Y/N) shook her head. “Ye don't sleep enough, don't eat enough. At least ye're not drinkin' and gamblin' anymore, but ye can't go on like this. Do ye want to die before forty, Hal? I ain't lettin' that happen!” She continued with her usual whining and he rolled his eyes.

“How can I rest when you keep your mouth open?!” Sauron asked and she huffed but she went silent and left him alone in the bedroom as she went back to the kitchen to clean the bowl after his soup.

It was the very first time when Sauron fell asleep not out of boredom or the need of dissociation but out of exhaustion.

And when he opened his eyes again, it was the next morning already and (Y/N) was shaking him to wake him up.

“Halbrand! Ye're gonna be late for work!” She exclaimed.

“But… I'm still tired…” He mumbled out, not understanding what was happening to him.

“Like all of us working folk each mornin'!” (Y/N) laughed. “Come on, I'm not lettin' ye out without breakfast, go to the kitchen,” she hurried him and he rubbed his eyes before nodding at her.

Sauron began to suspect that he was turning into a human for some time now but it took an unusual revelation to convince him that it was truly happening indeed.

(Y/N) was grinning widely on that day when he came back home and she welcomed him by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him all over his face as he tried to give back some of the kisses. When she finally stopped, she fixed his brand new guild crest and batted her eyelashes while looking up to stare into his eyes.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I think I'm expectin', Hal,” she told him, excitedly. “I wasn't sure but my friends at work said those are the very symptoms!” She added happily and he froze as he blinked slowly a few times, trying to process the new information.

“That is… Impossible,” he furrowed his brows.

“I used to think so, too. Married for so long with no babe of our own but I was wishin' and hopin' and here we are!” She clapped her hands like an excited child. “Perhaps it was that damned Middle-earth not being good for us, Hal, but here we can!”

Sauron took a deep breath in. She didn't understand – it was not about being fertile or not. It was about the fact he was a Maia and there was no possibility of him putting a baby in her without doing it with his own free will.

Unless…

“You're not sleeping around, are you?” He asked before he could think about the rubbish leaving his mouth.

(Y/N) froze at his words and her smile turned into a frown. She approached him at this very moment and slapped his face. Hard. He could feel it like any mortal would now and he admitted it truly hurt.

“How dare ye, Halbrand?! Ye wretched bastard! Even if ye meant to jest, that was uncalled for!” She raised her voice as he rubbed his cheek and winced out of pain.

“I'm sorry, love, I haven't thought before speaking. I just can't believe it…” He tried to excuse himself. “Please, forgive me.”

Her face didn't look so angry anymore but she didn't say anything and turned around without a word to walk away.

In fact, she didn't say a word to him for the rest of the day and only at night when she was deep asleep, he dared to touch her abdomen slightly with his hand.

He wasn't able to feel any presence there but these days he couldn't feel anything, to be honest. He couldn't hear nor see as much either. He was losing his abilities as time was passing.

Sauron kept his hand there, on the belly of Halbrand's wife, and he sighed. It was happening, whether he liked it or not. And he was not even sure anymore if he wanted it or not.

As he got lost in the train of thought, he realised that he had been caressing (Y/N) abdomen all that time without thinking. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled gently at him.

“Hal, ye son of a bitch,” she shook her head and giggled as she took his hand carefully and brought it to her lips to place a few small and sweet kisses upon his knuckles. “I swear, ye're gonna be the death of me.”

“And you are going to be the death of me,” he chuckled and leaned in to peck her lips.

She was going to be. Literally.

This body would start growing old normally now and, eventually, he would pass away like every mortal. But maybe he would do that laying in a bed, holding her hand and surrounded by their children.

When they broke the kiss, (Y/N) smiled widely and caressed her husband's cheeks lovingly. She looked ethereal at that moment and a crazy thought appeared inside of his head.

“Tell me, love,” he started and she raised an eyebrow at him, “are you a spirit sent to me from Valinor to lead me back on the right path? Have I passed the test?” He dared to ask and he could swear, there was a small sparkle lighting up her eyes for a short while. But then, she only laughed.

“Go back to sleep, ye madman,” she patted his chest lightly and turned around while laughing softly.

He kept staring at her for some time more, then he went back to looking at the ceiling. And, eventually, he turned around as well to wrap his arm around the waist of Halbrand's wife.

His wife.

Halbrand was coming back from work slowly while playing with the little horse forged out of iron in his hand as he hummed a song. The sun was setting slowly on the horizon when he approached the harbour where (Y/N) was slowly tidying up her stand on the market.

Her own one, that she had earned finally and was so proud of it as she was working for herself now and was able to bring more money home.

He watched her tidy up with a loving smile and their son was helping her while talking to her excitedly about something – his mouth would never close just like his mother's.

“Daddy!” He spotted him finally and ran up to him as (Y/N) chuckled.

“Hey, little man,” Halbrand crouched down to give his son a hug. “How was your day?”

“It was good!” The boy nodded. “I helped mummy a bit. And yours, daddy?”

“I made this for you,” Halbrand handed him the little horse and the boys' eyes sparkled at the sight.

“So pretty! Thank you, daddy!” He wrapped his little arms around Halbrand's neck to give him another hug and Halbrand patted his back.

“And for me?! For me?!” He felt something tugging at his tunic and he laughed at the sight of his excited daughter. He gave her a hug, too and caressed her ruffled hair as she gave him a toothless smile.

“I have something for you, too, Princess,” Halbrand assured her and took another item out of his pocket – a seashell made out of iron.

He had made sure it was crafted with the best precision and with all the tiny details, therefore it looked nearly like a real seashell. Only it was silver, which made it even better in his little girl's eyes.

“Thank you, daddy!” She giggled as she squinted her eyes at the shell and kept examining it under every possible angle.

“You spoil 'em way too much!” (Y/N) stood above him and he stood up to greet her with a short peck on the cheek.

“Somebody has to,” Halbrand answered playfully and his wife shot him a glance, which made his son giggle.

“Stop sayin' nonsense and let's go back home,” she shook her head and walked away slowly.

He watched his children follow her happily and he did, too, but much slower as he stared at the sun setting on the horizon. The sky looked like a canva full of pink and orange hues and he took a deep breath in at the beauty of it.

It was nearly as peaceful and beautiful as back in the day in Valinor. Mortals perhaps were not welcome there but, apparently, they could also experience wonders as marvellous.

And perhaps this whole life was built on a lie because he couldn't imagine telling (Y/N) the truth about who he truly was and that her real husband had been dead for years. That he had died because of gambling and drinking after leaving her alone when she was being attacked by the Orcs. There was no point in telling her even if she would somehow believe him. It would only bring her useless pain and he knew very well that her actual husband would most likely never do all these things he had done to make her happy. He would not love her right like he could.

“Ye comin', Hal?” His wife's voice brought him back to reality.

Halbrand nodded at her and joined her side to take his daughter by her little hand.

After all, it was not the sunset but her and her brother that were the real wonders. And it was not Númenor that he called home but it was them – they were his better place.

MASTERLIST

[loki-zen]

tell you what u guys need to get bombay mix in america

[dykedvonte]

I keep seeing fanarts of ppl's OC's being on the ship, so do you think that if there was 6st crewmember (specifically, another woman) Anya would've been more safe? Like, someone to actually call Jimmy's begaviour out, someone Anya might wanna trust? Is there a possibility something might have changed (even if a little) or it would not have mattered at all?

-💀

I feel like the game would make it part of the commentary on where she would believe and help Anya but still be sort of dismissive? Like the whole “don’t waste time crying and being scared keep going and move on, don’t let him win”. It’s supposed to be positive and reinforcing but sometimes it does more damage in those times of mourning and grief, it feels patronizing, like you don’t understand what you’re going through but they do. Even if they did call out his behavior it’s still on Curly to act and while another voice would help, it’s still 4 against 2 on guys that don’t get it until they have to vs women who always have to.

I don’t mind mouthwashing OCs but I do get a bit bored as they tend to be borderline saviors or like Jimmy aligned. They are either more complicit than Curly or just Jimmy haters for no reason, outside of what the creators know about what he did to Anya. I am never irked by OCs but in a story like mouthwashing you really need to think about what your character adds to the commentary, especially if they are there during the crash. It’s nice to have like characters on Anya’s side more whole heartedly and interesting to see characters who placate Jimmy but sometimes it’s one note.

I can’t and don’t want to police peoples OCs it’s never my intention when I comment on trends I notice, but I do feel like the way people make their OCs interact with these two characters and especially Curly, really show a grave misunderstanding of the narrative and these characters as people vs roles in the story. Still, I know people just make up characters for fun and that’s fine. Great even, but I guys I’m focusing more on OCs that are supposed to have those serious dynamics. My favs tend to be pretty-Tulpar or post-Tulpar au OCs.

The inevitably of the crash is on Jimmy. He did that not because he wasn’t stopped but because all his means to kill Anya were taken. The gun, the axe. Even if Curly did strip him of his co-pilot privileges and try to keep him contained there’s only so many people. An extra body helps but they have jobs they have to do, he’s the only one steering the whole ship and Jimmy would likely have an out: food, bathroom, etc. He’s not new and if he couldn’t crash the ship directly, who’s to say he wouldn’t sabotage something else? A clunker like the Tulpar wouldn’t take much. An extra person helps but it’s just another thing that prolongs what a person like Jimmy is willing to do to shirk responsibility.

It’s more than just needing someone to stand up to him and think that’s what is missing when it comes to inserting a character into the mouthwashing setting.

[revehae]

we need to kill everyone at sm entertainment

[diangelodork]

HERE IS LOUIS’ E3 COMMENTARY!! (i warned him thoroughly going into this episode i promise)

also, if yall have any questions as to what he’s referencing, feel free to ask me bc i always have to ask for clarification 😭😭

Dead Boy Detectives Episode 3, Initial Notes:

Suicide disclaimer, bouta get real

I still love these title cards

Picture of Dorian grey reference does not go unappreciated

What do you mean there were never meant to be this many people? As in not this many ghosts in the land of the living? Or… bad vibes Edwin

Holy shit Charles is wearing suspenders

K so ghosts can just do that

Is there meaning behind the snake in the title sequence? I can connect a lot of the other shit but not that

Jenny. Jenny episode. Jenny arc. Lesbian butcher backstory

Oh he big time jelly

Niko what are your other three favorite buildings??

Also how do you fuck ghosts asking for a friend

Jenny is so real

Well observed Niko, well observed (best character)

“Back in the 1990s when people could afford shit like that” lmao

Lilith Adams first wife in the apocryphal texts I believe

Spits alt reality Conan Gray

Would.

Monty honeypot goes crazy

SHE HAS YAOI LMAO

Why’s it always gotta be bureaucracy I just wanna have a good time man

The Scotch(?) cop vs vaguely American notary truly a match up for the ages

The music here is always on point

Dad smashed tape with hammer (early 1900s British Dad)

OH MY GOD THEYRE GONNA SHOW US THE MURDER OH MY GOD

OH MY LORD

HOLY SHIT

MEN WILL DO LITERALLY ANYTHING TO AVOID GOING TO YOU KNOW WHAT NEVER MIND HOLY SHIT GOD JESUS CHRIST

it’s the kids that get me 😖

Yes it’s a loop Edwin congrats

Giving me Slaughterhouse-Five vibes I.e. trauma makes you unstuck in time, here it’s a loop though. Which also tracks. I’m reminded of “whenever I close my eyes, I find myself back in Stalingrad” type shit

Niko living her best life

Also domestic abuse, trauma, themes et cetera et cetera (gas mask guy at the beginning)

God Charles you know this shit is my weakness

Ahh “you will never leave me” dissolution of suburbia or some shit, male need for love and intimacy expressed through the need for control, et cetera

The Bell Jar is my favorite book! I don’t think this is a reference though… although… voices in the head…

No Niko you could have had such a comfy evening damn it

OH GOD IS HE PART OF THE LOOP NOW

Yep.

His personal emotional pain sinks him into the cycle of trauma and suffering?

Themes effect of emotional pain and trauma on the mind

Control, always watching

Feeds off of negativity… something themes connection

Also “I’ve seen them sulking around hell is metal as fuck and deeply upsetting

GET OUT OF THERE GANG

And Brandon goes to hell

“It’s not what you did it’s what you do”

Hell yeah Niko scare those evil things

Also Niko’s fit is eating????

The honeypot twink gives you the astrology book instant smash

The old “I love those dudes tell me all about em” maneuver

GUYS I ANNOYED ONE OF MY FRIENDS WNOUGH TO WATCH DBDA!! im gonna be posting his live updates in the reblogs HEHEHEHEHE (the score is what got him to cave 👹)

[wasabikitcat]

community college is so funny because half of the teachers are like "For this class you need to use lockdown browser for all quizzes and tests. You need to buy this 70 dollar textbook, and all papers turned in must be in APA format with a title page even if they're only 500 words long. I will not accept late assignments. Also you have a minimum of 4 assignments a week." and the other half are like "you don't need proctoring for the final exam I trust you. here's a download link to a pirated copy of the textbook. as long as your writing is coherent and demonstrates an understanding of the material I literally could not care less what format you use. I can't figure out how canvas works so I'm not giving you due dates, just make sure it's turned in before the grading period ends. your only weekly assignment is a forum post with a minimum of 100 words."

[risingsunresistance]

twitter is entering their "rts > likes" phase now that likes are private after they spent years calling us ungrateful for being demotivated by ratios lmao

[scalpelsister]

what if i lost the will to live like. as a joke. what then.

[sluckythewizard]

The Altered Beast[FULL SUITE] COULD be arthur bennett or adjacent to whatever hes got going on in tha finale. if ur brave enough. IF UR BRAVE ENOUGH [tldr its just about Things eating Things and becoming New Terrible Things. it also fucking jams]

[youchangedmedestiel]

Another The French Mistake type of episode but we see how unwell Jensen is about Dean and that fucking scares Dean. And oh boy, I'm sure it would be a hilarious episode.