#tiss my beloved
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mostlymobilegames · 1 month ago
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Yeah, everyone in the Empire has to die actually because seeing MCs treated like that makes me boil with rage
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arctic-hands · 8 months ago
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Functional digestive tract and normal immune system when?
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lemonlinelights · 7 months ago
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What a life that would be💫
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oh to be a duck who can play the drums.....
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rotworld · 26 days ago
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12: Cruelty
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art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises
you've heard that there are werewolves who kidnap humans, set them loose in the wilderness and hunt them down to claim them as beloved pack humans. you think that's wonderful. you wish those were the kinds of werewolves who'd found you instead.
->original work. explicit; contains graphic descriptions of violence, non-con, gore, torture, hard vore, feral behavior, conditioning, implied captivity, dom/sub dynamic, mentions of knotting.
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It starts so soft and faraway. 
A whisper. A warble, like the song of a bird. But it grows and it strengthens, becoming clearer. Louder. Closer. “No,” you hear over rustling grass and snapping branches. “No!” over the heavy, thrashing drag of something fighting for its life. “No! No!” sobbed and shrieked and ignored. Dead leaves crunch beneath a scuffle, a quick, futile struggle. Growls and laughter. Cloth shredding. Belt buckles clinking and zippers hissing. “No! No! NO! NO NO NO NO!” 
The alpha holds your gaze. He sits on the big sectional sofa in the den, legs spread apart, an arm slung over the backrest. There’s nothing genetic about leading a pack but he matches the stereotype with his broad, muscular shoulders and thick arms, looming somehow even when he’s sitting down. He watches every quivering move you make, every wince and fidget and nervous glance around the room while a woman screams right outside. You hear her get loose; the shocked, tremulous gasp of unexpected freedom, her racing footfalls down the dirt path. And then the wheeze, the frustrated cry when she’s caught again and dragged back over the rough, gritty ground and tossed at the pack’s feet where they jeer and howl in delight. 
They’ll keep doing it, over and over again. Hold her down with a weak, clumsy grip that just begs to be broken, and then catch her before she’s gone ten steps. They’ll do it until she learns or she can’t run anymore.
“What am I going to do with you?” the alpha drawls. His hand drums along the back of the couch, the rhythm crisp and loud from his thick fingers and sharp nails. He’s scowling and it tugs at the scars on the side of his face—on his chin and the corner of his mouth, crooked across the bridge of nose, curling around one eye. The woman tries to run again. Gets caught again. Screams in fear and rage and helplessness, again. His stare is constant. Scrutinizing. Searching for something. “What happened?” he asks. 
You stare at the floor. At the dappled fur rug. At wooden table legs. He’s still wearing his work boots, brown leather and black rubber soles with dirt flecking the toes. “I…” You swallow hard. Your voice is hoarse and shaky. “Um. I don’t…I don’t know.” 
“You don’t know,” he repeats, his flat tone telling you that was the wrong answer.
“I should’ve been watching her,” you say quickly. “I didn’t. And that was wrong. And it’s my fault.” 
The alpha glances pointedly at the backpack on the table between you, gray and waterproof with all the compartments unzipped. There’s enough food in there for several days with careful rationing. A change of clothes. A water bottle. A pocket knife. “How long, exactly, were you not watching her?” he asks. 
Your face heats and your pace quickens. His voice is the usual deep, quiet rumble. His posture is loose, sprawled and relaxed. But his gaze is piercing. His eyes are a bright, frosty blue like a frozen lake, tracking even the smallest moves you make. He would lunge if you turned your back to him right now. “She might’ve been sneaking out,” you admit. 
“Might’ve?” he echoes with dry amusement. “That’s Clive’s bag.”
“No,” you hear, soft and broken. There’s a snarl. A rumbling growl. A howl and then a chorus of them. And then the sound you were dreading most, wet and crunching, the shrill screech of unthinking agony. He keeps you pinned under his gaze as the sickening sounds outside swell to a terrifying cacophony of frenzied beasts and squealing prey. Claws rake through flesh and teeth sink into soft tissue. Blood spills across the grass. You can hear them biting and chewing and tearing her apart one red, oozing mouthful at a time. Pleasured grunts and slick, rhythmic slapping tell you they’re in the thick of hunting lust, fucking their fists and rubbing their stiff, knot-engorged cocks against any wound they can reach. 
“Strip,” the alpha orders. Your hands are shaking but you obey without hesitation, shirt and pants and everything discarded on the floor. It makes the leather collar around your neck feel especially noticeable, like a brand on your skin. You stand there trembling, wishing desperately for silence. All you can hear is the wretched, gurgling moans of an animal dying and the pack, ravenous in every way. Grunts and snarls and the awful ripping-tearing of meat caught between two maws, bestial groans and the slap of skin on skin. 
The alpha’s eyes rake up and down your body. He tugs down the zipper of his pants and frees his hardening cock, stroking it slowly.
“Come,” he says. You lower your gaze when you get closer, standing between his open legs. Another mistake. One of his large hands grips your face, squeezing your jaw. He makes you look him in the eye. “What do you think you deserve?” 
“Punishment,” you whisper. 
“Punishment?” He turns your face towards the window beside him. You can’t see anything but a mass of shadows shifting, contorting, rutting. You hear a strangled whine. “Like that? Huh? That kind of punishment?” 
“No, alpha,” you whimper. “No, no, no, not that, I’m sorry, I’ll do better, I’m sorry—” 
“This is your mess,” the alpha says, dangerously calm and quiet. “She was your responsibility.”
“I’m sorry!” You’re sobbing. You can’t stop yourself. “I’m sorry, alpha, I’m sorry!” 
The corner of his lips twitch, a snarl barely suppressed. He can smell the tang of your fear and the sharp salt of your tears. It makes him stroke himself faster, his cock jutting thick and hard in his fist. “You make this hard, hrefn,” he murmurs. “You’re my favorite. Always have been. But this is about the worst thing you could’ve done, short of making a run for it yourself.” His thumb strokes your cheek, catching a tear as it slips from the corner of your eye. “I’m not sure I can just let this go.” 
You both hear the footsteps coming but the alpha hears them first. His head cocks to the side, gaze wandering as he follows something moving outside. A shape darts past the windows. A four-legged gait lightens to two, creaking up the cabin steps. The front door squeals open and slams shut. Someone ambles down the hall, humming under their breath. A sharp knock at the door to the den makes you flinch. 
“Did you start without me?” It’s Maddox, your beta. Your breathing gets faster and shakier. The alpha rests a hand between your neck and shoulder, squeezing hard in warning. He looks you in the eye again and you might as well be shackled to the spot.
“Come in,” he says. You hear the door open and then a soft, amused exhale. The door shuts. Locks. Footsteps cross the room and stop right behind you. “The others?” 
“Where they’re supposed to be,” Maddox says. He must’ve checked on the other pack humans. That’s his job, after all. Some packs would refer to his role as “head shepherd.” 
Your pack calls him a “bitch-breaker.”
“Did they know anything?” the alpha asks.
“No, I don’t think so. Although they didn’t seem all that surprised, either. May I?” 
The alpha grunts and lets you go. You’re tapped on the shoulder from behind, urged to turn around. You don’t want to but the longer you stall, the worse this will be. Hesitantly, you look away from the alpha. Maddox has just shifted, naked from head to toe with all of his curling, runic tattoos on display around his arms and legs. Shaggy brown hair hangs over his shoulders and claw marks, healed pale and jagged, slash across his chest. One of his old wounds is not like the others. It’s a starburst in one of his pectorals. A knife wound, small and unremarkable in the mass of his other battle scars.
That was you, what feels like a lifetime ago. That was your last act of defiance.
“Hello, hrefn,” he says, smiling wryly. You nod meekly. He chuckles, stroking your head in soft pets. “You poor thing. Has alpha asked you lots of questions?” 
“Hardly,” the alpha mutters. “Didn’t get much further than what happened. Said they weren’t watching close enough.” 
Maddox hums in acknowledgement. “Is that true? You weren’t watching the new pack human?” 
“I…” You whimper. “I tried—”
“Sit,” he snaps. 
You drop to your knees on the floor. He closes what little distance remains between you, putting you eye-level with his soft cock. Maddox grips himself by the base with one hand, pumping leisurely. His other hand grabs the back of your head. You open your mouth without being told. 
“I won’t pretend to be shocked,” Maddox says quietly, speaking to the alpha over your head. “Any human Heath picks is always trouble. Just getting her to follow simple commands was like pulling teeth.” He drags his fingers over your scalp as a reward for easy submission, how eagerly you lick and suck his hardening flesh. 
“How do you feel about training another hrefn?” the alpha asks. 
You whimper around Maddox’s cock, peering up at him pleadingly. You massage his thighs and take all of him into your mouth, running your tongue along the underside of his shaft. “I’d rather not,” he admits. “You need just the right human for it. None of the others are a good fit, and it’d take some time even if they were. And besides, this one’s new. Barely had a chance to even settle into the role.” He glances down at you, thrusting slowly into your mouth. You moan around him and he smiles. He suddenly snags a fistful of your hair and drags you off of his cock, pulling hard enough to make you arch your back and crane your neck at an uncomfortable angle. “Do you deserve another chance?” he asks.
“Yes,” you say, quick and desperate. “I do.” 
Maddox tilts his head. “Really? It doesn’t seem like you do.” 
“I do,” you insist, your voice pitched with terror. “Please—” 
He forces you back down. Now fully hard, he slams into the back of your throat and your fingers dig into his hips as you try not to choke. He doesn’t thrust. He just holds you there, face buried in curls of pubic hair and his firm abdomen, mouth full of his cock, until you stop fighting and steady your breathing through your nose. Just as you start to relax again, he grabs your head with both hands and fucks your mouth with hard, fast thrusts that make your jaw ache.
“If you had to guess,” the alpha says, “what happened here?” 
Maddox makes a wolf sound, a feral growling noise that nearly ignites your fight-or-flight. He shoves his whole length down your throat and holds you still again making slight, grinding motions with his hips that mercilessly tease your gag reflex. “They’re tired, probably,” he says. “I caught them being a little too lenient right after the new one got here so we’ve had some remedial lessons. Might’ve gotten a little overeager, kept them up too late.” 
“You? Overeager?” the alpha drawls. 
“Yeah, yeah.” He pulls out, glistening strings of saliva and sticky precum connecting his cock to your lips and tongue. “And you were too scared to tell me, weren’t you? You thought it would sound like a bad excuse.” You nod weakly, your face slick with tears. 
The alpha lets out an amused huff. “So this is partially your fault.”
“Maybe a little. But it’s a good lesson for everyone, isn’t it?” Maddox slips a hand beneath your chin, wiping your swollen, slick lips with his thumb. “Next time, tell me,” he says sternly. “I need to know if you’re nodding off at midday. Managing pack humans is my job, too.” You nod again, sagging with relief. Maddox smiles again and taps your cheek. “Open.” 
You wrap your hand around the twitching bulge of his knot while his fist pumps his cock in short, quick strokes. He never takes his eyes off of you while he pleasures himself. With the threat of death lifted, you find yourself squeezing your thighs together, wanting desperately to touch yourself. Maddox has made sure that the mere sight of a werewolf knot is enough to send blood rushing between your legs. The weight of it against your palm is even more arousing. All you can think about is how satisfying it would feel inside you. 
“Good,” Maddox growls when he cums. He covers your face in it, pumping thick, white spurts over your cheeks and into your waiting mouth. “Good hrefn. Fuck, you’re so good.” He doesn’t have to ask you to suck his tip and lick up the last few drops. The alpha finishes on your back with a muted grunt. You squirm when he smears it into your skin with his hands, callused palms massaging his scent into your neck and shoulders. “Look at you. You want it so bad you’re shaking,” Maddox purrs. He wipes a glob of cum out of your eyelashes with a chuckle. “You can have my knot later since you’ll be staying with me tonight. I think we need another remedial lesson.” 
“Don’t let this happen again,” the alpha warns him.
Maddox laughs and promises it won’t. He helps you stand, cooing at the way you wobble with your knees sore and stinging. He tells you to get your clothes but not to get dressed. You won’t be needing them for the rest of the night. The alpha dismisses you both with a curt nod and Maddox’s arm slings over your shoulder, guiding you out of the den.
He steers you to the side rather than straight down the path. Your stomach lurches. You know where you’re going when you see bits of torn clothing and blood on the floor. The pack has scattered; all that remains are their leftovers. You wouldn’t recognize her if someone asked you who she was. There’s just not enough left, all the bits and pieces scattered across the ground. All the bones are covered in stringy, fleshy bits, saliva and teeth marks. 
“It’s funny,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Clive’s pretty careful with his bag. She’d have to have broken a window or busted down the door to get it. Or known someone with a key.”
Your heart sinks. Maddox bends slightly so you’re closer to eye level, leaning in beside you. He smiles, squeezing your shoulder.
“If you ever do something like this again,” he whispers, “I won’t let the pack have you. I’ll take you out here myself. I’ll knot your fucking throat and break your jaw, and then I’ll snap your femurs. I’ll eat you alive, hrefn, but not like they do. I’ll make it last until sunrise. Do you understand?” You nod quickly. Maddox scoffs, unconvinced, but pets you a few times. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite,” he says.
You nod again, pushing against his hand eagerly like an excited dog, and it makes him laugh. You smile at him and press against his side. You try desperately not to cry.
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sam-glade · 8 months ago
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Hi, happy STS~!
This week, I want to know: Have you ever had to say goodbye to a character, be it because of their death in the story, or their role in it having finished? How did you feel about it?
(from @tisiphonewolfe)
Oh Tiss. Happy STS!
Why do you make me think of the 80% of my beloved cast of Days of Dusk, which passed away in the couple of millennia before The Truth Teller, so the few that are still around, are sad, lonely people, too old to make new acquaintances that would be their equals?😭 Fortunately, most of the ones who don't reappear, had happy, fulfilling lives, and passing away peacefully, fading of old age, is probably a happier conclusion to their lives than seeing what the country has turned into after the General Revolution, which they didn't live to see.
In Days of Dusk alone, there is one major character death, but as for characters who have fulfilled their role - they still appear in group scenes or otherwise in the background. E.g. they'll join the gang at the pub or the POV character will run into them on the street. If they haven't moved from the city where most of the plot takes place, and still work in the same location, which the POV character has good reasons to pass, I'd honestly find it a bit hard to believe that they wouldn't run into each other or the POV wouldn't remark on their absence in narration.
It's entirely a personal preference in books, but I don't like it when characters (or even places or items) appear for a single scene or chapter, and are never mentioned again, especially when they didn't die or weren't destroyed. I appreciate it when there are consequences to every meeting and even the characters who were accidental allies never to be seen again leave some sort of a mark on the protag, even if it's them remembering what that person had said or some detail reminding them of the encounter. When that doesn't happen, it breaks immersion for me, because it's so very clear that the side character is just a tool that served its purpose, rather than an illusion of a real person.
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navysealt4t · 2 years ago
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hi beloved! offering you sneak peek of my navyseal fic in these trying times (jrwitwt being dumb) <3 :
“But maybe some company will do me good,” She added, smiling. Immediately Gill brightened up and something in Jay’s chest warmed. She repressed the urges to kiss that beaming smile, to hold his face in her hands and murmur that everything would be alright because she was here, to tuck that loose strand of hair behind his ear. Instead, she simply kept smiling.
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BEE BEEE OH MOH MYGG
OH MY GOD> WHAT THE FUCK THIDS TISS O QSWWEEY FUCKING HELL IM SINANDEEE IM INASNE.im menta ooouuhh. ohhg,
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alifeasvivid · 2 years ago
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hey those watch tags are actually really informative, thanks sonder!! do you have any fun watch facts? i know so little but i find all this stuff fascinating o(^▽^)o
well the history of watches is extremely long and varied so >.> how about a glossary of sorts... and a bit of impassioned ranting... and perhaps the key to my heart? XD
movement (noun) - when you hear someone refer to the "movement" of a watch, they are refering to the "engine" of it, the parts on the inside that make it function.
The two most common types (as in nearly every watch) of movements are
quartz - any watch which uses a battery or solar capacitor (except for smart watches) is a quartz movement watch
mechanical - manual wind pocket watches came first, then wrist watches. When you see steampunk stuff with lots of gears, that's what these movements are like. They do not have batteries or any power source. They are wound by hand (usually in the morning and at night) and the gears inside are then propelled by the kinetic energy until it runs out.
MOST mechanical watches now are "automatic" or self-winding and they have a rotor inside that swings when the watch is moved, thus keeping it fully wound by the motion of the wearer's wrist.
dial - this is where the hands and markers are. On a clock, this is call the "face" on a watch, it is called the "dial." Many watch dials are black. So it’s called a black dial, capiche?
crystal - the "crystal" of a watch is the flat clear thing that covers the dial. Regardless of what it is made out of, it is called "the crystal." Typically, these are made out of mineral glass, though nearly all high end watch crystals are made of sapphire (same substance as the gem).
Neither of these can be polished. If they are scratched, they can only be replaced.
Most watch parts are not made "in house." For example, Fossil does not make their own movements. Neither does Tag Heuer or Cartier (depending on the watch). It's common and accepted. Swiss movements are considered superior to Japanese movements.
Among watch makers and techs (and in some cases, collectors) watches are judged based on their movements rather than their outer appearance and brands that make their own movements are viewed more highly (in general).
The top three luxury brands (who do all make their own movements and yes they are gorgeous you can google it)
Patek Philippe (Americans will butcher this almost every time... so it's Pah-TEK Phil-EEP and say it with a snooty French accent ;P)
Audemars Piguet (Same with this one. Anglicized it's AH-deh-mar Peh-jay)
Rolex (I think you guys probably know this one)
Yes. They are incredibly, stupidly, mind breakingly expensive. Yes. They are incredibly, stupidly, mind breakingly well-made and beautiful.
And no, Rolex is not overrated. This is a dumb edgy boy take, it makes you sound stupid, don't say it.
One of the best swiss watch brands out there is Omega. Do with that information what you will.
If you want me to love you forever and ever amen, you can buy me a $6600 40mm stainless steel Cartier Ballon Bleu, automatic movement, stainless steel bracelet. BEHOLD... my beloved:
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And just one more thing I want to say for now. Tag Heuer. Americans. It is pronounced TAG HOYER. Not Tahg. TAG. Not Hore, Hewer, Hooer, or Herr. Don't say those, you'll sound silly. and Tissot is pronounced Tissoh not Tiss-ott. You're welcome XD
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maiverie · 3 years ago
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BESTIE TRIAGE HAS ME ON CHOCKEHOLD ALREADY‼🗣 IM DOWN BAD BAD FOR LEE HEESEUNG AS A CUTE DORKY NERD 😳😭😔😍♥️
*the way he's just genuine and adorably funny :( it strikes my protection mood, i wanna form a squad and push taehyun out of the way whenever he's bothering my beloved nerd!!!! c'mon let's fight for nerds rights ‼💪🗣
as a former nerd from the clumsy chem jokes community, i 100% support hee and his puns, c'mon is hella funny 🤣 personally i like to hear them, PERIODICALLY *ba-dum-tiss*
yn is so so so perfect 😵 miss ma'am screams girlboss all the way and we love to see! obviously hee is into her, babes take a look???? he's talking an U🤭 srry ryunjin
HAVE I TOLD U HOW MUCH I LOVE UR WRITING PLS IS DIVING AND INCREDIBLE I FELT LIKE IT WAS A MOVIE THE SCENE PERFECTLY UNFOLDED ON MY MIND 🤯 😩 i was already a simp for ur work during open sesame, and im here again to push my fan card on ur blog hello😆😆😆
AAAHHH CAN'T WAIT TO THE NEXT CHAPTER!!! but also pls take ur time, update when u can and don't feel rushed to do so! ik it's not as easy as it seems (since i write too, ik the struggles😵) so take care too!!! we can wait for nerd heeseung w the same hype♥️🤞 (sorry for the long ask too i got carried away sjwjwak)
WAIT HELLO NAURRR SKY DID NOT JUST DROP INTO MY ASKS!!!! BFF WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE ITS BEEN SO LONG HOW HAVE U BEEN AND OH MY GOD I LOVE UR PFP SO MUCH 😭
OWIEJFOIJWEJEW THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING WHAT THE HELL BRO??? NAURR heeseung is literally such a dork in triage hfdkslksjdf but oh my god pls the thought of nerd!heeseung makes me wanna run a few laps i.... hes so cute 😭 iM SO HAPPY U ENJOYED IT THOUGH SKJDFJ STOPPP he literally needs to be protected,,, mf taehyun was such a dick i--😐 #jail
PLSSS FORMER NERD???? JSDFJSJ U AND TRIAGE!HEESEUNG WOULD BE SO COMPATIBLE 🤪PLS I LOVE THAT SM THO NERDS R THE BACKBONE OF SOCIETY AIGHT... AND PLS NOT ME SNORTING AT UR JOKE I CANT I CANT DEFEND U NO MOREEEE 😭
omg!!! im so happy u liked yn too ;-; fr shes a girlboss she loves to gaslight pls AND YES FR HEESEUNG KINDA FEELING IT... HES KINDA FEELING IT BUT ALSO YN KINDA SCARY 😭 SDHJDSH HELP HES LITEARLLY ADORABLE I CANT I WANT THIS BOY SO BAD
AND STOPPP NOOOO YOURE LITERALLY THE NICEST KINDEST SWEETEST THANK U SM FOR EVEN SUPPORTING ME DURING MY OPEN SESAME DAYS TOO :((( u were one of the first moots i made so uM IM KINDA IN LOVE W U !!! im literally ur fan stfu i cant ... ALSO NOW THAT IM FINALLY FREE FROM EXAMS AND HAVE A READING BLOG IVE BEEN MEANIGN TO READ SOME OF UR WORKS BUT IDK WHERE TO START SO PLEASE PLEASE REC A STARTING POINT FOR ME 🧎
you're the best, i— 😭 not u supporting my once-montly updates i honestly dont know how yall deal w me atp i deserve the electric chair lmfaooo IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO FINISH OPEN SESAME AND I HAVE SM SHIT TO WRITE SO I HOPE TRIAGE CAN BE AT LEAST A LIL QUICKER... LETS PRAY FOR MEEEE BUT NO BFF NEVER APOLOGISE PLS I LOVE CHATTING TO U!!! <333333
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becauseicantthinkwritings · 3 years ago
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Hello my beloved, oh you changed the phrase, i went to read it in Billy's voice, as i always do when entering your blog and I had flashbacks of a certain pirate.But back to what I wanted to say, GIRL BILLY SUB IS SO SIWHEJQODJWJ I love him, this bratty that makes me want to give him a lot of love while punishing him.Chels you made me see a dominant side to me, this is new.I usually just see myself being a sub (bratty) for Billy. Hope your day is good! (Bruno Mars started playing and I realized I could sing Talking to the Moon for you, cause you talk to me *ba dum tiss* okays I'm leaving now XOXO) - Moon Moon
Hiiiiiiiiiiiii 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Omg so last night I heard the loudest crack of thunder I've ever heard in my life it was so scary it actually sounded like a bomb going off.
Yeah I changed the phrase because I saw this post where someone was like "if it's not canon, yes it is because I'm the captain now." Or something and I was like: huh, that fits, I wanna be a captain 😂😂😂😂
Y'know, just me owning my lil part of the Ben Barnes/Billy Russo fandom and you guys are my crewmates 😁
Too many ship references, can you tell Pirate song is my favourite? 😂
Thank you so much for liking my sub!Billy stuff 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 very shy about it, you know how it goes.
😘
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Look back at season 1, first episode.
What would have happened if Dean hadn't gone to Stanford and said "Dad's on a hunting trip and hasn't been home in a few days"? 
Sam would have lived a normal life with Jess. Dean would have died young, hunting fast solo. 
That's it. THAT'S what (the fuck?) we got after 15 years. Fifteen fucking years that should have been of (mildly) good storytelling and character development. 
They had amazing characters. They had an literally open road to create an epic journey. They could. I even believed in it with all the apocalipses, God and Devil, good and bad. They could, but they didn't. 
Because when you look back know, the long road is just a fucking disgusting hamster wheel. 
They just threw a good story in the dumpster. In a dumpster on fire. And full of shit.
I'm not even pissed, just sad. 
Sad because Dean died, without the chance to surpass all the suffering of the life he (in truly) hated as much as he hated himself. He couldn't grow because, came on, pie. 
And sad because Sam, the boy full of hope and caring, just had to live the rest of his life alone, or better, married with a faceless woman that's not the one good, monster-influence-free, Eileen that he loved. (Eileen who?) 
And I'M OUTRAGED that Cas spent all those years with them, sacrificed himself for them - for Dean, (who he loved romantically, even if it was never again addressed, wich is something that hurts in a beautiful way, the unrequited canon thing) but this is not about it - he was just forgotten. Not just dead, because he could have been mourned, you know. He was just forgotten. Even by Dean.
Castiel who? 
And there is Jack too. 
And don't anyone bring the "it's about the brothers". 
Yes, it's about the brothers. And about family. FAMILY DOESN'T END WITH BLOOD! Remember? Family is what moves you, builds you, supports you.
There are no heroes without family. 
But there are no heroes in this show. 
There's no journey. No fight. No roads. 
Just a painful shabby heaven (fabricated, artificial, trapped by white walls, you do remember that heaven is a shitty matrix with NO FREEDOM and not a fair recompense in the series, right?)
It's the worst ending I couldn't ever imagine. 
It's not just bad. Or sad. Or even stupid. I mean, its all of it, but whats is worse is that it's also EMPTY ba-dum-tiss! sorry, too early. Seems like that really was the villain of this season after all, and, by extension, of the series.
Endings are hard, we know. But if this is how everything ends, then it empties all the story until here. 
Oh, Supernatural: the tale of two beatnik fearless brothers, their old drunk adoptive father, an rebel fierce angel with too much heart for his own sake, his beloved son the demi-god, and all the broken scattered family they gathered on the way is finally ending. 
And nothing happens. 
Nothing changes. 
There's no hope, no free will, no peace when you're done. 
Nothing of significance. Just nothing but a bad taste in my mouth, and a crawling frustration in my bones. 
You were right, Mr. Ackles, I don’t like it. I HATE IT. Dumb me, who was expecting somenting not-so-awfull (it's supernatural we're talking about, I didn't even hoped that much).
I’m so sorry, young foolish 14 years old Maria, cause you believed.
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istannorcas · 2 years ago
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I TISS THE QUEEN'S AND MY BELOVED WIFE'S BIRTHDAY AND I SHALL MAKE A 7 DAYS 7 NIGHS FEAST FOR HER 💜💜
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ANW HAPPY BIRTHDAY EI DARLING 💜 I WISH YOU THE UTMOST HAPPINESS AND THANK YOU FOR BEING IN THIS WORLD 💜
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willowbleedsonpaper · 3 years ago
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Part 2: This subject is so delicate for my beloved Sirius, even more so in the matter of what happens at the Black house with Walburga. Oh this is a good comparison, when Reg realizes that the ideas he supports are wrong, this comparison will be perfect, between James and Sirius and Reader and Reg. This discussion has broken my heart. James as unobtrusive as a deer in a bush (ba dum tiss) okay I stopped sorry but just imagine the horns sticking out! - R
I believe that Sirius is a parkour pro when it comes to topics that make him uncomfortable. Not many things do but when they do he is so smooth about it you don't even notice he changed the subject. He tries his best to be more open with Little Bird even if it pains him.
I do love a good parallel, and I can see you do too. 🤝
HAHAHHAHAHA. I can imagine it if he had been in his animagus form!! To just see his antlers show from the door. Good content 👌
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recentanimenews · 3 years ago
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Banished from the Hero’s Party, I Decided to Live a Quiet Life in the Countryside, Vol. 3
By Zappon and Yasumo. Released in Japan as “Shin no Nakama ja Nai to Yuusha no Party wo Oidasaretanode, Henkyou de Slow Life Surukoto ni Shimashita” by Kadokawa Sneaker Bunko. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Dale DeLucia.
As far as I can tell, this entire volume had one purpose: to make me feel guilty for calling Ruti terrifying over and over in my previous review. I mean, not to say that she still isn’t a bit much – waltzing past deathtraps that would have destroyed anyone else, taking the killer drug from the previous volume and having it only affect her slightly, and of course saving people when she runs across people who need saving… whether she wants to or not. Indeed, even her companion Tisse, who starts off the book sticking with Ruti seemingly because she’s being forced to, suspects that Ruti is going to turn on her beloved pet spider and kill it, which… isn’t actually true. (The spider’s name is Mister Crawly Wawly, which probably says a lot about Tisse, but let’s move past that.) But in the end, what this book is here to remind us is that behind her hero’s blessing, Ruti is a lonely young girl who HATES being the hero.
In fact, the majority of this volume, at least until the cliffhanger ending, is meant to undercut the previous two. After seeing Ruti as the stereotypical “yandere little sister” sort, she finally is told her brother and Rit are together, and… is not all that happy about it, but does not going on any killing sprees whatsoever. She arrives in town trying to get more of the drug that can kill her blessing, though it’s working pretty slowly so far. It *is* working, though – Ruti’s emotional range widens considerably throughout the book, which also helps to sell what she’s been forced to go through. After two volumes where a “slow life” start was followed by dark content and action scenes, this volume gives us slow life right to the end, with lots of Red and Rit being lovey dovey to each other, etc. Unfortunately, there is that ending… the rest of the hero’s party arrive in town.
I suspect the long term goal for Red and Rit might be figuring out a way to get rid of blessings entirely, though they may earn the ire of the church by doing so. They’re SUCH a liability in this world, with folks who are happy with them outnumber4ed in the narrative by folks who are not. Just as Ruti’s shy, introverted side is transformed by the hero blessing into an emotionless behemoth, so Tisse is an assassin because… well, if she doesn’t kill people, bad things will happen to her, so what choice does she have? (She levels up big time in this book as well, thanks mostly to her emotional support Mister Crawly Wawly.) Everyone is starting to question whether free will is an illusion or not, and this is a fantasy world where that questio9n is very much up in the air. That said, as long as Red is on the side of good they should be fine.
This volume was mostly all slow life, but I doubt the next book will be, as it looks like Ares is going to be having a huge fight with Red. Or Ruti. Or both. Till then,l this remains an excellent example of its genre.
By: Sean Gaffney
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razzlekitty · 7 years ago
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Which of your OC is: P, U, K, Y?
P: is the purest, most perfect cinnamon roll.
“Trobu like Rabu.” He said petting his rabbit, showing it to the young orc. Ukri nodded and pet Rabu. “Oh! Bru makes the best rabbit stew!” But this only made the bear like amani troll gasp and jerk his beloved pet away. “NO. NO EAT RABU!”
“No! I-I didn’t mean… Eat Rabu… I mean… eating… Other rabbits… That are not… Rabu…” Ukri replied sheepishly. It took a moment for Trobu to nod but he did and let the boy pet the rabbit again. “I bet he’s a vicious rabbit. Does he bite?!” He said gleefully.
“Trobu neva see Rabu bite. But Rabu kick! Rabu kick like Trobu punch!” The child ooed and awed then struck a kicking pose. “I bet he’s the best kicking Rabu. Cause Trobu is best… Trobu Puncher!” Ukri nodded.
(It’s a toss up between these two. Ukri or Trobu.)
U: is the most unapologetic for the way they live their life.
Answering OOC because it’s easier. Raz. Unabashedly, without a doubt… Raz. Hitting on handsome men? Getting them drunk, banging them then breaking their hearts? Killing people for money or because they were about to blow his cover? Pranking people in terrible ways? Asking raunchy questions just to get a rise out of someone? Raz. Oh yes, he’s quite the bastard.
K: is the most skilled in the kitchen.
Ukri could only stare in awe as Bru quickly cut up the beast they’d caught for diner. His cuts quick but seemingly perfect. Quickly grabbing spices and herbs to smear on the meat then preparing vegetables for the stew. Making the bread in which to dip in the stew. It all happened so fast that Ukri couldn’t really take it all in.
But when it was all said and done and the food cooked. Heavenly was the only word the little orc could think of. “You’f tha bess cook Bru!” He said with a mouth full.
Y: yells the most.
“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” Bru bellowed at the little Darkspear. Jaz shrugged and smiled sheepishly, honey smeared on her face. “Well Bru’mon… It’s honey… ya eat it.” She grinned. “BUT THAT’S MY HONEY. FOR MY HAIR.” He yelled. Jaz sighed and frowned. “See now dats jus’ a waste.” But the salty orc was not amused. “THAT DOESN’T MATTER. IT’S MY HONEY.” He yelled as he flailed his arms. “I t’ought dat be Zari… BA-DUM-TISS! OOOOH!” She yelled as she ran away from Bru, whom was looking to more then likely punch her.
@deeafrotailmisstress I BORROWED JAZ. I knew you wouldn’t mind. From this ask.
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