#he has a capacity for enduring!

[handsomelyerin]

"you're killing people!" "no, i'm killing BOYS!"

//

"you're the one bringing the death to town." "i give death to those deserving."

megan fox as jennifer check in jennifer's body (2009) + sam reid as lestat de lioncourt in interview with the vampire (2022-)

[oglegoggle]

My body aches so fucking bad, my dudes.

[robertomacedakohatsu]

Roberto Maceda Kohatsu, brought into the world on January 8, 1981, in Lima, Peru, stands apart as a profoundly achieved cinematographer and manager, celebrated for his remarkable skill. Eminent for his dominance in both cinematography and altering, he has been instrumental in the outcome of various undertakings, exhibiting his capacity to complicatedly shape entrancing visuals and upgrade narrating in the realm of film. Roberto keeps on being an unmistakable figure in the filmmaking business, leaving an enduring effect through his imaginative commitments. His immovable obligation to the workmanship and an insightful imaginative vision have solidly settled him as a regarded and persuasive name in the field of film.

Roberto Maceda Kohatsu Cinematographer

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere Wild West Outlaw!'s Reaction to You Trying to Escape

Warnings: Slight Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Thoughts, Dominant Outlaw Confirmed, Kidnapping, Restraining/Binding, Binding Kink ( 👀), Punishment, Outlaw having Intrusive Thoughts, Forced Proximity (And They Were Roommates), No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

♡ He has you tied down to a chair so quickly you don’t even get the chance to feel the wind being knocked out of you.

♡ Yandere Outlaw hasn’t survived this long by letting pretty little things like you turn the tables on him. And if his unwavering strength and endurance aren’t enough to confirm that, his knotting skills are.

♡ “Thought ya could pull the wool over my eyes, didn’tya,” the Outlaw drawls, pulling the rope tight over your wrists, panting, recovering from your frolic with freedom.

♡ He leans in, close enough that you can smell the rock-beaten freshness of his shirt, can feel the warmth of his anger radiating against your skin.

♡ “Suppose I’ll just have to discipline ya. Make ya nice and obedient.”

♡ Despite the low, husking tone of his voice, the quiet promise of promiscuity in his drawl, Outlaw’s rendition of punishment comes as… solitude.

♡ He leaves you tied to that chair for hours, riding off into the desert, leaving you with nothing to entertain you save for your thoughts and the wonderings of what he’d do to you when he returned.

♡ You might view this as a cold, calloused method of behavioural conditioning. Starving you, not letting you stretch your legs or go to the bathroom.

♡ Of course, the punishment is still horrific. But, rather unintentionally so.

♡ You see, in the moments between Outlaw’s two-minute tango between you, himself and his rope, something in his brain had switched. Snapped.

♡ Having you look up at him with wide eyes as you writhed beneath his touch, the burn of the rope, the pleas starting to fall from between your lips for him to let you go, stirred something in him. A primal frenzy. A dark need.

♡ Yandere Outlaw can’t think straight, his mind flooding with involuntary ideas, notions of what he could do with – to – you while you’re bound and at his mercy.

♡ He doesn’t know what happened; why having your body pressed so closely to him in such a thrashing, violent, desperate encounter has left him with a heavy burden in his heart and in…other places.

♡ He’s wrangled captives before and they’ve never had the same licentious effect as you did. Then again, he’s never kept a captive for this long, either. And certainly not willingly.

♡ Yandere Outlaw eventually returns, the thought of you helpless in that chair weighing heavy on his mind all day, taking him down avenues and annals of thought he’d only have the opportunity to explore under the cover of darkness.

♡ Of course, he was concerned that you must be hungry by now. Thirsty, too.

♡ That, and…

♡ How there’d be nothing to stop him from having his way with you.

♡ Yandere Outlaw shakes his head, his horse letting out a puff, as if she could read his mind. Don’t, she told him.

♡ “Don’t worry,” he said, voice quiet. He patted her mane, rubbed the space between her ears. “I won’t.”

♡ Upon Yandere Outlaw’s return, he cuts you loose. He doesn’t apologise, but his silence is thick enough with the accent of shame that you can tell he regrets, in whatever slim capacity, what he’s done.

♡ He puts together a simple meal tonight, either for a lack of trusting that you won’t spike his meal with one of the earth’s thousand natural poisons, or as an apology for his actions.

♡ That night, as you lay next to the Outlaw in bed, your hands and legs bound to the bedposts, the Outlaw looks over you. Watches you.

♡ He doesn’t know why the image of you being tied up hadn’t aroused him as much as it had earlier. Especially now, of all times, with you sleeping beside him, entirely incapable of defending yourself if he acted on his primal desires.

♡ Perhaps it was the thrill of the prospect of having everything on the line, of losing you. Perhaps it was the display of his strength, his ability to make you do whatever he pleased through physical force alone.

♡ Yandere Outlaw tried to dampen his thoughts by placing his hat over his face; to stop the heat he was certain made his cheeks glow in the pitch blackness of the cabin. 

♡ And to stop the onslaught of another issue. 

♡ Taking a dip in the cold waters of the river this time of night didn’t much appeal to him. Especially when he could indulge himself a little longer in the image of you gagged, bound and entirely his.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[sayruq]

Below is a statement by the UN Relief Chief that is both true and meant to reassure zionists that he is not pro Hamas

Despite this, there is a smear campaign against him (and the UN in general)

All this to distract people from this grave warning issued by Martin Griffiths

The scenario we have long dreaded is unraveling at alarming speed. More than half of Gaza’s population – well over 1 million people – are crammed in Rafah, staring death in the face: They have little to eat, hardly any access to medical care, nowhere to sleep, nowhere safe to go. They, like the entire population of Gaza, are the victims of an assault that is unparalleled in its intensity, brutality and scope. More than 28,000 people – mostly women and children – have been killed across Gaza, according to the Ministry of Health. For more than four months, humanitarian workers have been doing the near-impossible to assist people in need, despite the risks they themselves were facing and the traumas they were enduring. But no amount of dedication and goodwill is enough to keep millions of people alive, fed and protected – while the bombs are falling and the aid is choked off.

Add to this the widespread despair, the breakdown of law and order, and the defunding of UNRWA. The consequences are humanitarian workers who are shot at, held at gunpoint, attacked and killed. I have said for weeks now that our humanitarian response is in tatters. Today, I’m sounding the alarm once again: Military operations in Rafah could lead to a slaughter in Gaza. They could also leave an already fragile humanitarian operation at death’s door. We lack the safety guarantees, the aid supplies and the staff capacity to keep this operation afloat. The international community has been warning against the dangerous consequences of any ground invasion in Rafah. The Government of Israel cannot continue to ignore these calls. History will not be kind. This war must end.

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

baby, it's okay if we both end up afraid | 28K buddie (& bathena) fic | ao3

[buck and bobby battle their past traumas in the middle of a shipwreck. eddie pines in the aftermath. and somehow, for all of them, love endures and overcomes.]

Buck hadn’t forgotten how cold the ocean is.

He hadn’t forgotten the bite of it or how the crest of a wave can feel like the edge of a knife or how the water stings and cuts and carves and settles in the bottom of your lungs and the pit of your stomach like a handful of broken glass.

But he had forgotten the water’s weight.

He had forgotten how heavy it is as it clings to you and refuses to let go, something he supposes he has in common with this powerful, almost undefeatable force of nature. Letting go has never been something he is good at, in any capacity, in any situation, always clinging clinging clinging like his very life depends on how well he can hold on to all the things that want him to release them.

read the rest on ao3

[ranticore]

hits u with my dragon beam

tha boys and their dragons from the au i am self-indulgently messing with. green, bronze, and brown. these are scaled to their actual sizes relative to one another & their riders.

reasoning/more info under the cut. when i say 'niche audience' i mean the approximately One Person who knows my characters and has also read a pern book (me. i'm the one person it's me)

Féiix is a green rider obvs. I think it's really generous of dragons to have a colour specifically for bottoms. Her name is Searrath and she ends up committing matricide by stubbornly rising at the same time as queen Lenath, to protest the weyrwoman's abusive treatment of her rider. Searrath is legendarily short-tempered and protective, and although her rider might continually reassure her that his arrangement with the weyrwoman (as her personal spy; he is an ex-harper) is healthy, Searrath has other ideas. She is quite good at precise hops between, which is how she manages to bait Lenath into flying head first into a mountainside.

Islin's bronze Taranth is very big, very gentle, and completely unwilling to do his duty as a bronze in any capacity at all. He has a... complicated relationship with Lenath and endures a good amount of ridicule, but Islin is adamant that he will never make a bid for weyrleader as this involves sleeping with the weyrwoman and queen (he'll settle for being wingleader). A strong disagreement over Félix's spywork and loyalty to Lenath leads Islin and Taranth to walk out from their weyr, and operate out of a different base for years before Lenath ultimately dies from failing to compete with Searrath on a mating flight. He is the only bronze rider who is not originally from a weyr.

Francis's brown Nelath was almost killed by Lenath when he hatched. As the son of the newly-ousted ex-weyrleader, Francis could have easily impressed a bronze and ousted the current weyrleader, so the weyrwoman conspired to prevent it from happening. Lenath broke Nelath's leg during the hatching, and only the invervention of Francis's father's bronze saved both himself and the injured hatchling from what appeared to be the queen's random fit of infanticidal rage. Nelath recovered well and became a very popular brown dragon and an impressively good shot with his flames. He has attempted several times to chase a queen (usually one of the juniors, still a little wary of Lenath), and has even succeeded more than once. Francis and Nelath support one of those junior queens during an attempted ousting of Lenath and the weyrwoman, but never expected that Félix's loyalty to the weyrwoman would separate them for years (until Lenath goes out carcrash style against a mountainside, as previously mentioned)

It's my first time trying to write a full conspiracy over the course of the characters' lifetimes so it's pretty fun!

[jymwahuwu]

Gym Trainer Jing Yuan anon here!! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

I have been giggling and kicking my feet to your response cause it's so!! <3 I really like your writing a lot and Jing Yuan planning to bring a vibrator to the next session giving me brainworms to future scenarios now like:

- Jing Yuan keeps helping you on the different equipment and basically just thinks of a way to get his hands on their ass or grind against them

- then it leads to getting invited to a private session cause of how bad their endurance is because like "You've only squatted for 15 minutes and can't handle the leg press machine, you need to work on your stamina or you'll feel like a fool in front of the other trainers :c but don't worry I'm here!!"

- And since this will be more private, he can be a lot more cheeky now with adding yoga to the list but BUT!!! Adding a sprinkle of sex positions and basically gaslighting them that it's yoga! (You know he's rock hard and grinding against them so hard)

Imagine that this keeps going for so long that even when he uses the vibrator saying that it'll help more with stamina! Then while squatting while leaning to the wall he just presses the highest power and now they feel their thighs being jelly

Sorry for the rant, but I hope you have a lovely day!!

part 1

CW: yandere, non-consensual contact, vibrator, inappropriate use of fitness equipment, mention of future non-con

Hi nonny <3 Now I'm chuckling at these thirsty ones too- your feedback is better than mine XD Jing Yuan really has a great opportunity to manipulate us right? Personal fitness trainer…

Exactly. Your tears were glistening as his big hands kept caressing and pushing your ass without any scruples. Jing Yuan even invested in fitness equipment development technology so he could get more suitable equipment. It wouldn’t be a surprise if there was any equipment that required you to take off your underwear to exercise…

The squat part…this position is really suitable. He'll keep spanking you and then say it's your fault when you can't hold on anymore <3 And it means you can't handle the leg press machine and other equipment. It is necessary to prepare private lessons for you.

Jing Yuan is in front of you to help. Right in front of you. Even though the general's move of taking off his shirt to reveal his muscles was rather suspicious, you couldn't say no… why not try spreading your legs? Um. mwah here. mwah Kissing is just lung capacity training. Keep your legs open to train your thigh muscles. He helped adjust the position on your body, and his bulging crotch kept rubbing against your private parts… "S-stop… it's too close…" But this was part of the training, and of course it was impossible to stop. Stick a little rabbit vibrator on your most private parts, then do some squats.

This is going to be a long - slow workout. He won’t tell you that the end goal is that you end up being penetrated by a dick…

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Let's talk about... Mhok's Fart Proudly t-shirt

Let's be honest here, this IS a ridiculous shirt. But it is just so Director Aof to put one of his characters in such a ridiculous shirt during a poignant scene.

This is Baseball Mom 2.0

And I say that not only because it's ridiculous but because, just like Baseball Mom, it also has a deeper meaning connected to the narrative - as is Aof's style - and it's what I adore about his work, that he puts so much attention to detail into the characters' wardrobe.

But on to the shirt.

If we can get past the loudness of the "FART PROUDLY" we can see the rest of the text reads approximately as thus:

I believe a fart is a healthy, natural thing - and is nothing to be embarrassed about. I have pledged myself to changing society's attitude towards farts by showing that I am not afraid to release my farts freely - wherever, whenever - and without shame.

And yes, it's about farts BUT the underlying messages here are the parts I have highlighted.

Throughout ep 2, Mhok tries to encourage Day to get out of his room, to "open his eyes" to things, to remind him the rest of his body still 'works' ("Your hands are available" / "You can still hear"), to try things before dismissing them. He learns that Day is scared of how he is perceived by others and tells Aon there's nothing to be embarrassed about. He asks Day why he cares what people think...all the while knowing to some capacity what it's like to to be judged on face-value. And Mhok is able to let that judgement roll off him, it seems he's able to meet his challenges without shame.

After Mhok gets fired, he uses this confidence to spend time in the market blindfolded. He's not afraid to feel uncomfortable and vulnerable in order to understand Day and what he's experiencing. He proudly endeavours to navigate through the space and to eat without his sight regardless of what others may think of him. He feels the fear, but does it anyway. He has no qualms about doing more than necessary - after all he could have just walked away and not thought about Day again. But, as the wardrobe choices tell us as well, the best never rest. And Mhok is one of the best.

Day used to be "a guy with confidence", and Mhok is trying to give that back to him. The t-shirt also asks "Can I count on you, now, to stand behind me?" which, in the context of the farting, could be 'are you willing to endure my farts?' or 'will you join me in farting freely', but with Mhok and Day it's 'are you with me? Can you be brave enough to not be embarrassed? To say fuck it and live your life regardless of others?' and/or 'will you let me help and protect you?'.

Mhok cares a lot. Not about what others think of him - he had no hesitation to get naked and let people watch when Day asked ('do this and I'll forgive you' -> 'how brave are you? how brave can you be for me?') - but about Day and the other people in his life. And Day is also starting to care - he not only left his house to see Mhok but agreed to let a relative stranger take him to a very crowded and, having been shut in his room for a year, what must have been a very scary place. Which makes Day's t-shit in this scene equally fitting. "Capacity Intensive Care".

It may be small now - their care and affection for each other - but it will soon grow, even if they don't see it yet. But they'll both be getting "more care, more often, right where [they] live".

[highseas-swede]

...I seriously cannot stress how much I hate tags like "Give us BAMF Aziraphale" because it seems to imply that he's not badass.

He IS. Tell me how well most people could endure 6000 years of consistent, persistent demoralization, harassment and shitty treatment without snapping?

Do you know how HARD it is to be kind when you've been put through a system that actively discourages kindness and softness, a system that tries to beat it out of you - not physically, but still. The fact that Aziraphale got through all of that and is not just still kind, but still has the capacity to be kind to the very people who hurt him, is fucking remarkable.

Aziraphale is badass. Period. Full Stop.

It's well past time that we stopped equating physical and fighting prowess as a measure of badassery. Just about anyone can exercise and get strong enough to fight someone. Just about anyone could possibly get weapons training. Neither of these things is half as brave as putting yourself in front of a crowd of people and holding off 70 demons with just conviction and a candleholder because it's the RIGHT THING TO DO.

EDIT: I had to add this while I was thinking of it.

I feel like people are buying into Heaven's version of badassery. Angels were made to FIGHT. To fight the last big battle against demons and Hell.

Aziraphale is a deviation because he DOES NOT WANT THAT. He doesn't want to fight a war that will hurt billions and destroy the world. His defining moment in Season 1 is when he stands in the face of the quartermaster and refuses to fight the way they want him to. Instead of a weapon, he chooses to find another way.

If anything, I would think it's leading to the idea that Aziraphale feels he must fight, that he has no choice, and then, when it comes right down to it, finding another way. A kinder way. A BETTER way.

By the standards of Heaven, Aziraphale picking up his sword and fighting would be Normal. Him refusing and finding another way is what makes him Unique. THAT'S what makes him badass.

[the-valkyries-gwyn-nesta-emerie]

Lucien being the one to spend time with the girls father was done with intention. Elain being the one closest to their father was done with intention.

He's going to help Elain the most with her continued grief over the death of her father. Because there is no way she's over his death.

Lucien more than likely has some stories he could tell her of his time with him. I bet he also got told some things about Elain from her father, which only endured him towards her. Which is why he continues to try to be there for her in any capacity, even with the distance between them.

I also do wonder if he made a promise to her father to protect and look after Elain if something happened to him. I just know if something was to happen with Elain, and she needed him, he'd be there in a heartbeat for her 💖

Art is by mftfernandez

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝒩𝑜 𝐻𝑜𝓅𝑒 ༻

Ascended Astarion x F!Tav/Reader | Raphael x F.Tav/Reader

Summary/Request: A Tragic Ending. Deep down, you knew Raphael would never come to your rescue. You had even called out to Haarlep at times, but the knowledge that they were both gone and would never reveal themselves weighed heavily upon you. All hope had been extinguished, leaving you utterly empty.

⋆˙⟡♡ This was chilling in my box for a hot minute and I apologize for it taking forever!!! Also apologies because I accidentally deleted the ask when trying to edit this *cries*

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Heavy Angst | Lactation | NonCon | Poor Raphael

( Prt 1. ) - ( Prt 2. )

Chained to the bed, Astarion slinks towards you, an ominous smile playing on his lips, "Isn't it amusing how fate works, my love?" he whispers, his voice entwined with a combination of sadistic glee and twisted pleasure. You attempt to utter a plea, but your throat is raw and inflamed from the screams that tore through it only an hour ago.

Despite the torment and anguish you've endured, you're astounded that Raphael's child continues to grow within you, defying all odds. The stress should have shattered you, driving you to the brink of a miscarriage, but somehow your body has held on.

Astarion lies down beside you, his pale hand gently caressing the swell of your stomach. "Who would have thought that the child of a devil could create such a delectable feast, especially when blended with your own blood?" he muses, his tongue flicking over your nipple and tracing the scars from his previous onslaughts, "Yours is the only blood I crave, the only one I had missed while you were away." Astarion's mouth opens wide, his sharp fangs glistening in the dim light.

"Please, Astarion... I-i can't…N-no more..." you stammer, your voice filled with desperation.

"Ah, ah," he interrupts, a cruel glint in his eyes. "I've given you ample time to rest, haven't I? And remember, if I were to push you beyond your limits, I can always bring you back as my personal spawn."

Astarion hungrily sinks his teeth into the tender flesh of your breast, his mouth engulfing your nipple as his fangs pierce your delicate skin. The searing pain courses through your body, causing you to recoil in agony. Your back arches involuntarily as a guttural scream escapes your lips, echoing through the room. Tears stream down your face, blending with the sweat that clings to your skin.

As Astarion continues to feast upon your flesh, your blood trickles down your breast, forming a sinuous trail of crimson. The thin rivulets intermingle with the milky white droplets of your breast milk. His eyes catch sight of your beautiful mixture of liquids, and in mere seconds you can feel how his cock hardens from it as he continues to drink from your abused breast.

With each agonizing moment, you wished for the darkness to engulf you, pulling you into death's cold embrace, refusing to let Astarion bring you back to the realm of the living. Your vision blurred, and in the haze, Raphael's name echoed relentlessly in your mind.

Astarion persists in his sadistic ministrations, his other hand mercilessly tormenting your neglected nipple, twisting and pinching it. Your mouth hangs open, devoid of the capacity to scream. Instead, a feeble whisper escapes your lips, "Raphael..."

Deep down, you knew he would never come to your rescue. You had even called out to Haarlep at times, but the knowledge that they were both gone and would never reveal themselves weighed heavily upon you. All hope had been extinguished, leaving you utterly empty.

Astarion withdraws his head, forcefully tugging at your breast with his teeth and fangs, coaxing one final stream of milk into his ravenous mouth. Your head thrashes violently from side to side, your eyes squeezed shut, a feeble attempt to escape the tormenting reality.

"Call out! Cry out to the devil!" Astarion's laughter fills the room. "Let him hear your desperate pleas, echoing through the depths of Cania. He watches, you know? Bound and chained in his father's palace, witnessing his - my precious pet quivering beneath me." Astarion's depravity becomes evident, his words unveiling a twisted game he plays alongside Mephistopheles. They have ensured that Raphael survives, trapped in a punishment more agonizing than death itself.

"His father thought it a splendid idea, especially since he's been such a naughty son." Astarion licks his milky blood-stained fangs, chuckling as he witnesses the realization dawn upon you. Your lips quiver, tears flowing ceaselessly, as the cruel truth takes hold. You gasp for air, suffocating like a deprived fish out of water.

No crown, no little mouse, no heir, no domain… Raphael would witness his failed ambitions every waking moment, forced to listen to your daily wails, your pleas for Astarion to kill you and his half devil heir that continued to grow within you…

And the cruelest twist of all was how Astarion exploited your unborn child, Raphael's child, as a source of sustenance, using their existence to further his twisted enjoyment.

When the time comes and you are ready to bring life into this world, Astarion will take your child at a fine age and turn them into one of his spawn in front of Raphael…

[autistichalsin]

The world we live in right now is not particularly kind to caring about things, particularly in the online environment. Think about the increasingly popular online persona of someone who is above it all, doesn't care about anything, is just there to laugh at everyone. Think about the trends of incredibly cruel TikTok pranks, where the entire punchline is to emotionally devastate people and then further humiliate them for their reactions, or where animals are subject to incredibly harmful practices (coating reptiles in butter, etc) for people's amusement.

There is an entire movement, propelled by online personas, that sets to demonize the entire notion of caring- about anyone and anything- which is then followed by increasingly sadistic genres of posts that capitalize on this disconnect. Once caring is uncool, then basic decency will become uncool very soon after.

Needless to say, kindness isn't something that's particularly rewarded in this landscape. People who are kind will get mocked, accused of disingenuity, and more. The idea of open kindness makes people uncomfortable and people don't know how to deal with that.

So characters like Halsin are, to me, more important than ever, because not only is he kind, but he cares about everything, to the point of pain. He finds meaning in everything. There is no "just a tree" to Halsin; that tree has meaning. The tree has a story. It's endured storms and grown stress wood from it, it's housed birds, it's seen the changes of seasons. Animals are much the same; they are living creatures with emotions and needs, and a capacity for fear and pain, and that is to be respected.

All living things are worthy of that consideration in Halsin's eyes.

And in this world we live in, where kindness is punished, where even the vague notion of caring about something is mocked, Halsin is important. He is the antidote to all those bullying TikToks; he is there to show that other living beings have needs too, and are worthy of respect. He is a giant middle finger to Andrew Tate and similar figures; he is there to say: you can love deeply, you can put others above yourself, and still be a real man.

Halsin is a counter to the increasing emotional numbing being pushed on people today. He's like a flashing neon sign that says no! caring about something, anything is what makes you who you are. Look who and what you can be if you don't close your heart off, even when you suffer.

And I just think that's a really beautiful thing, honestly. It resonates so much with me, and inspires me to find the meaning in things that are easy to write off as meaningless.

[lesbiansforboromir]

Iconic elements of Film!Boromir's character that everyone remembers;

Very into Aragorn, has multiple meaningful scenes with him where he is clearly disarmed, awed, unnerved and yet eager for his approval and companionship. His acceptance of Aragorn's right to the kingship is treated as a vital part of his character arc and even his last words before his death are entirely about Aragorn.

Awkward, often stalling or stumbling over his words, says things that leave uncomfortable silences and often makes loud declarations of intent, very earnest in all his mannerisms and always says everything in a guileless way. Very upfront and open about his emotions, to the point of making Aragorn uncomfortable in his attempts to connect with him about his fear for Gondor's safety and his own inner turmoil surrounding his father.

Immediately ring-obsessed. He argues with Elrond about the Ring's usage and clearly is not swayed by further arguments, in fact is sent by his father specifically to get the ring and so is technically a traitorous element in the fellowship from day one. Eagerly ensures he has a place in the fellowship at the Council of Elrond and is blatantly suspicious with his treatment of both Frodo and the Ring from then on. No one in the fellowship trusts him and for good reason.

Kinda a liability! Doesn't really offer anything to the Fellowship other than another sword arm, and one that seems sub-par in comparison to his comrades considering his underestimation of the Hobbits and the multiple times he has to be saved in Moria. Has no real expertise or wisdom to offer, barring obvious declarations like 'this will be the death of the hobbits'. Indeed the one moment of apparent unique wisdom he offers 'one cannot simply walk into mordor' is so widely viewed as foolish advice that it's one of the most enduring memes of the internet to date. Only has one moment of apparent skill in his final stand against the Uruks where he kills about 5 by himself before he is hit by 3 arrows and rendered helpless. Very much characterised as 'the normal guy' and 'the himbo'.

Has a nice, supportive and loving relationship with Faramir, his little brother that looks up to him adoringly and with a sense that he could never measure up to Boromir and that Boromir is his better. Protective of faramir.

Hah that was fun and now, completely unrelated, here are TRUE AND IMPORTANT FACTS ABOUT BOOK!BOROMIR!!

Has one (1) line of dialogue about Aragorn and his kingship that essentially reads 'Well I don't care about Kings but if mythic heroes from legend could come and help my people we'd be grateful (press x to doubt)' and then he NEVER! VOICES A SINGLE OTHER OPINION ABOUT ARAGORN! FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE. This includes his very last words which don't mention Aragorn or the Kingship once.

Clear-spoken! Makes concise speeches full of relevant and important information when in an official capacity. Always has a tone of well-meaning half-humourous sarcasm, making casual and comfortable jokes at his own expense or sometimes lightly teasing his fellows. Otherwise restrains his disagreements to darkly humourous complaints, strained and weary reactions or clear unemotional declarations of his concerns depending upon the recipient. Takes the phrase 'you'll have to pry my feelings from my cold dead hands' entirely literally, NEVER reveals the true extent of his internal struggles until the moment he is literally dying. In fact is entirely silent whilst Aragorn is asked to describe Gondor and waxes so lyrical he doesn't even notice Boromir get up and leave.

Asks one (1) clarifying question at the Council of Elrond about why they aren't using the ring, accepts the answer entirely and never mentions it again UNTIL Galadriel tempts him with it in Lothlorien. Doesn't even WANT to go on the fellowship and is more dragged along by Aragorn with the pretext that 'Gondor is on the way to Mordor so we'll tag along.' Is utterly trustworthy and has no ulterior motive in arriving in Rivendell other than his search for an answer to his prophetic dream. In fact his whole behaviour and personality changes immediately after Galadriel's mental interrogation and he BECOMES awkward, unnerving and unsure in his speech all of a sudden.

Has a WEALTH of knowledge, experience and personal skill that he uses to save the fellowship multiple times. Saves them all from freezing to death on Caradhras through his preparedness, his arguing with Gandalf and his personal durability. Hacks the head off wargs when they are attacked in the night. Remains lucid whilst the fellowship is paralyzed with fear by the Balrog and stalls it's approach using his horn to allow them time to flee. Fights alongside Aragorn at every opportunity, including charging with him at the Balrog as Gandalf is fighting it. And not only that, he regularly is proven right in his advice (that is rarely heeded) and is well informed on both his own peoples history and Rohan's position, even against Gandalf and Aragorn's doubt of their character. Actually saves Merry and Pippin initially from the Northern orcs whom he drives away entirely before he begins taking them back to the others, is only stalled when they are ambushed by Uruk-Hai. Continues to fight on even with far more than three arrows in him and actually yanks a few out before collapsing against the tree. Definitely not a normal guy, nor a himbo, just exceptional in a more mundane way than everyone else in the fellowship (except the Hobbits).

Never mentions his brother a single time, somehow got him to stand and defend the bridge of osgiliath with him whilst knowing that it would likely kill them both so not all that protective. Faramir meanwhile cannot say a single uncomplicatedly complimentary thing about his brother and in fact cannot stop telling Frodo (a man he has imprisoned for half a day), about what a stupid, reckless and prideful man Boromir was and how he's far better in every single way.

WOW HAHA ISN'T THAT INTERESTING! COOL! Book Boromir is my favourite character by the way haha I'm suffering incomprehensible horrors :)

[eldritch-spouse]

Breg's the type to have emotional boner, cums in 5 seconds after being in his angel for the first time and profusely apologizes while whimpering and panting, everytime she's nice to him or attentive his dicks just jump out like fucking exclamation points and Angel's just like "are you fucking hard right now 🤨" he's so pathetic I love him

[Basically, yes.]

Of course he's going to come within the first five or so seconds of being inside you, you're the only person he's ever truly wanted to have sex with. He's been dreaming about your sweet little hole(s) basically since the day he met you, he's destined to immediately orgasm like a loser and lay there in a pile of shivering moans. The capacity to apologize returns when his brain cells stop popping and sizzling.

Courtesy of being the golden goose of a literal breeding facility however, he's ready for seconds far too fast and will keep fucking you until his real stamina and endurance show themselves.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, can stop the boners for a long while. Any type of contact with you has him so euphoric that his slit is constantly in a state of mild wetness in case there's an opening for sex. Even if you perform the miracle of putting this monster in a pair of sweatpants, he's double-tenting it far too often and those things need to be washed so regularly they won't last long. Keeping his gestures in check is also essential, since Breg is prone to constantly shifting and wanting to lean into you to shamelessly get friction.

Asking him if he's hard will just result in Breg sweating harder, smiling and trying to squeeze his dicks down.

[morganas-pendragons]

Tender | Twelve

short and sweet. based off of heaven sent and hell bent (because twelve has been my favorite for years and there's no fic for him, so I guess I gotta do it myself!)

Something is wrong with his hands. You're not sure what it is, especially given the fact he's barely uttered five words since he found the TARDIS again, but he's being particularly careful with how much he uses his hands.

You decide to test the waters of your capacities for physical contact and come closer, bridging the gap between you to graze the back of his hand with your fingertips.

He winces as if he's been burned. Like it's painful.

"Darling," You murmur, pressing your cheek into his shoulder as he leans over the console of the TARDIS. There is such sorrow hanging off of him. Such pain. A pain that only comes with the heaviness of loss. You know exactly why he bears this weight. It is incomprehensible to him, however, that the mere memory of a ghost occupies the hole in his mind. "What's wrong?"

It takes him a long moment to answer. "My hands," The Doctor murmurs. He is not willing to look you in the eye. "When I was in the confession dial, I spent the entirety of those four and a half billion years breaking through a material harder then diamond to get free. I could've left at any time to get home to you. And yet.."

Clara.

You had been with The Doctor longer than Clara ever had been. You knew his capacity for love, and you knew better then most how The Doctor struggled with this face and this body. He struggled with accepting himself for who he is. He struggled with recognizing that he could be worthy of love in this body.

You had made every effort to prove otherwise.

"I don't blame you," You say softly, curving around him to shimmy up onto the TARDIS console and run your fingers through unruly silver curls. It's one of your favorite things about this face. "And I could never blame you. You've always done things in the name of love."

"I've not let myself love you like-"

"Like what?"

He retreats from the tenderness of your touch with a snarl and a quiet clack of his teeth. "Like he did!" The Doctor exclaims. "We all know that it would be less shameful to openly love a younger face. Like Sandshoes, or The Chin-"

"I have loved every version of you I have ever known. But here's the thing I recognize," Your voice is soft and warm, a lure back to the space where you occupy the console. The Doctor flexes his aching hands at his sides as he did every time the pain returned, every time he's reminded of the suffering he endured inside of the confession dial. "They're all you. And in every lifetime, every universe, every finite moment of my existence? I will choose you."

He inches closer, like he's unsure.

"Always?" The Doctor asks.

You nod. He steps into the part of your legs and closes his eyes as you take his hands into your own, holding them in your own before turning them palm upward and laying a kiss thereupon.

Your fingertips trail downwards. Your lips follow their path, cradling his wrist in your hands as you follow the ache that thrums beneath your touch. He's always carried so much pain.

This pain, however, is a pain that will last lifetimes beyond you.

He shudders as you place your hands over his own on your cheeks. "You've spent so long engaged in a dangerous life, running away and being the hero that this universe will never thank. You're so used to.. cruelty. Hardship. Loneliness. But you know the one thing that I will never stop freely giving to you?" The Doctor shakes his head and leans into the warmth of your hands. It's rare for you to reduce him to silence. "Love."

"Love." He whispers. You sigh as his head falls into the crook of your neck, and The Doctor grasps you like his very being depends on it.

Love. Yeah.

Maybe he needs it more than he believed he did.