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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

this was... weird.

the house was completely quiet, for the first time in what felt like weeks and osamu felt very out of place.

despite being so far removed from everyone besides his girlfriend, he enjoyed the noisiness and bustle that came from all the other members.

osamu never had been a fan of the quiet.

all it did was remind him that he was alone — that he was the lesser twin, the one always left behind, the one that would remain alone while his brother basked in the limelight.

but now, that wasn’t the case! osamu had meiko and he used to have daichi and iwaizumi but ever since iwa was fired and daichi disappeared off the face of the planet, he was down two friends. that was okay! his was doing what he loved with the woman he loved and that was all that mattered.

a loud clang followed by a quiet curse shook osamu from his thoughts. he gently placed the knife he was using to prep his vegetables down before following the noise to the pantry where he found... you.

you were sitting on the floor of the pantry wearing hello kitty patterned pajama pants, fuzzy socks, and a hoodie with your hand in a bag of chips and a pan sat by your foot. belatedly, osamu recognized that you must’ve knocked over the pan after falling while trying to grab your snack.

you were cute, with your sleep mussed hair and confused expression, he briefly thought but he swiftly squashed that line of reasoning down.

he was in a happy, committed relationship and he didn’t need you to change that like you changed everything else in his life. after all, you were the reason atsumu hated him now and never spoke to him anymore. you were the reason he had to avoid going home for fear of his grandmother asking what atsumu was up to because he had no idea. you were the reason he and his twin drifted apart. it was all you.

before osamu knew it, that moment of endearment had passed and was instead replaced by anger.

“what the hell are ya doin’ here?” osamu scoffed coldly, staring down at you with fire in his eyes. you sighed and stood before skirting past him and walking out into the kitchen.

“i live here asshole,” you muttered, searching for your phone in order to go back to hiding in your room until the boys got back. you wanted to avoid conflict as much as possible but unfortunately, osamu had different plans.

he slid out in front of you, keeping you from leaving the kitchen and effectively trapping you in the encounter. “ya know that’s not what i meant. what were ya doing spying on me? gonna report back to yer little harem?”

you felt your face curl up in confusion which osamu apparently wasn’t a fan of, judging by the deepening of his sneer. “i have no idea what you’re talking about osamu, now let me go.” you attempted to push past him but he was too tall, too large, too strong and you were forced further back behind the island.

“no, i know ya tell em things about me. what were ya gonna make up this time, hm? what were ya gonna say to tsumu to make him hate me even more?” he spoke down on you, his words filling with more and more venom, and as much as you hated it, you couldn’t keep yourself from cowering in front of him, your eyes filling with tears.

“osamu, please let me go, i don’t know what’s happening and i don’t know what to tell you to make you leave me alone,” your voice came out as a whimper, despite your best efforts and osamu faltered.

he’d never seen you like this, not once in your whole time living in the house, not even when most of the members were against you. you never showed weakness — you had a quiet strength most of the time and when you really got mad, as evidenced by your fight with meiko, you got violent.

but this? this was nothing like you. you were practically curling in on yourself, your arms wrapped around your chest protectively as if you were afraid he would... hit you.

oh god, oh god, osamu thought as he took a step back. what the fuck was he doing? he’d just been yelling at you, cornering you and not giving you room for escape, even though your body was clearly begging for it. you viewed him as a legitimate threat to your safety and that thought chilled him to the bone.

“yn, i—“ osamu was interrupted by the door slamming open, revealing everyone returning from the mall with atsumu at the head of the group.

“tsumu!” you choked out before pushing past a now distracted osamu and running right into his twin’s arms. he wrapped them protectively around you while whispering reassurances to you before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

the two of you held a quiet conversation that no one else could hear but osamu could guess the contents when atsumu glared up at him, looking absolutely furious.

sakusa, kuroo, and kenma gently took you into their arms, allowing you to cry quietly while atsumu stomped over to osamu before jamming his finger into his twin’s chest.

“what the hell did ya do to her, samu?” he growled, shoving osamu’s back into the island behind him. osamu allowed him to, too in shock and ashamed to protest, much less fight back.

that didn’t stop atsumu from pressing, asking question after question, none of which osamu could answer. “answer me! open yer fuckin mouth asshole and answer me!”

“atsumu, i-i’m sorry, i-“

“baby!”

a force barreled into his chest, thin arms wrapping around his waist and shoving her face in between his pecs. “it’s okay baby, i’m here,” meiko whispered in between kisses to his collarbone, her presence doing little to soothe him as his eyes darted around the room.

atsumu still looked as angry as ever but he kept his mouth shut as meiko rubbed more of her makeup on osamu’s black t shirt in her attempts to comfort him. you were staring him down as well with tear tracks staining your cheeks as sakusa rubbed circles into your back and kenma wrapped his arms around your waist. sugawara, bokuto, and kuroo were standing at your sides, eyeing him with contempt while oikawa and akaashi were deep in conversation with yachi who seemed to be stressed out of her mind.

osamu searched further and his eyes landed on daichi standing the furthest away, his eyes fixed on where meiko lied in osamu’s arms, his face full of hurt and... disdain? anger? disgust?

it was confusing so osamu quickly averted his eyes, instead choosing to focus on the woman in his arms who was now whimpering and shaking in her 4 inch heels. hesitantly, he lifted his arms to hold her closer before bending his head to breathe her in, his eyes fluttering shut at her unique smell of hairspray, brown sugar perfume, and chinese food.

“osamu,” sugawara spoke up after a moment of silence, “there’s something i need to tell you. we saw meiko ki-“

“babe? what’s going on?” a new voice rang out from the still open doorway, meiko clearly recognizing it as her head darted up to watch as the group moved from the door to reveal...

“...suna?”

℗ poker face

disruption

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - AHAHAHHAAH >:3 i was wayyy too excited for this chapter muahahha also so many of y’all guessed suna right but i couldn’t answer cs i rlly wanted it to be a surprise!!!! soooo if u guessed it right, feel like a baddie :) KSJ m so so excited to see y’all’s reactions so don’t forget to feed me ;)))))

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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babbushka · 3 years

Note

3E or F6 from the smut prompt list with Supreme Leader Kylo for Sinday? ❤️

Anonymous said: Hi Zannah! For Sinday, can I request Supreme leader Kylo with his Empress and some Knights of Ren NSFW? Have a lovely weekend!! <333

(2.1k, NSFW: Exhibitionism, possessive behavior, big mean dom!Kylo Ren, manhandling, naked woman + clothed male, PIV, throne sex, come as lube, voyeurism [Kylo making the Knights sit back and watch him fuck you])

The mission was, by all accounts a failure. This didn’t happen often, certainly not since Kylo had cut the bastardly Snoke into two and assumed his rightful position on the throne. Failure was not an option, Kylo knew this. The Knights of Ren knew this. Now more than ever, the might of the First Order could not afford to fail…and yet.

Yet when the Knights return empty-handed after nearly six weeks being away, it would seem that Kylo was faced with having to punish them for their inadequacies, and so when the recount the struggles of their mission, Kylo is only paying half attention. Because the other half of his mind is reaching out, calling out, to you.

It doesn’t take long for you to join them in the throne room. Kylo atop his grand seat, in all his finery. You have eyes only for him as you enter, a great pleased smile on your face as your robes swish behind you. They’re nearly see-through, the robes. Sheer fabrics layered over one another to create a billowing draped effect formed to your shape perfectly – just sheer enough for anyone to see that you aren’t wearing anything underneath.

“You wanted to see me, darling?” Your voice is gentle, a soothing balm on Kylo’s bad temper. He hasn’t lashed out yet, still hasn’t decided if he will or not.

For this moment, Kylo pats his thigh, wanting you to be on top of him, wanting you to be as close as humanly possible. You go eagerly, climbing up the steps which elevate him off the floor of the room, your body molding to his as Kylo’s jaw clenches.

“The Knights are back.” He says, and you look over your shoulder, seemingly having missed them in your desire to be near your husband.

“Oh!” The happiness in your voice only makes Kylo’s bad mood darken, because he knows how much you like it when they have you as a reward for a job well done.

“They’ve failed us.” He tells you, and he can feel it in the moment when you realize, when disappointment washes through you. Kylo’s jaw clenches again – not only have the Knights failed him, but they have failed you too, and that is simply something he cannot abide by.

“Oh.” You tsk your tongue on the roof of your mouth, returning your attention to swiping slow heated licks of your tongue across Kylo’s cheek, hands fisting in his tunic as you whisper, “What will we do with them?”

Kylo can feel how horny you are, he could feel it from across the star destroyer. He knows the Knights can feel it too, standing in the straight line before you both. Kylo can feel the anxiety in their bones, the way they want to reach out and touch you. As you squirm and whine softly in Kylo’s ear, clutching at him and kissing at his warm skin, he cradles the back of your head and holds you tight.

“I think a better question is, what will we do without them?” Kylo murmurs, before guiding your mouth to his, opening it with his tongue and sloppily swallowing down the moan that you sigh out.

You kiss for a long while, until Kylo can feel the pulse of your cunt across his lap. Unable to resist you any longer, he begins pulling at the ties and buttons that hold your robes together, watching hungrily as the silks and sheer fabrics slip off your body, pooling onto the floor.

“If you touch yourself I’ll cut the limb off, understood?” Kylo speaks, addressing the Knights for the first time since they dared to return empty-handed, and one of them, Vicrul, dares to be bold again.

“Master this – ” He starts, but Kylo throws the Force his way, a harsh warning around Vicrul’s throat that has him silenced at once.

“Understood?” Kylo asks again, this time the flicker flare of redorangeyellow in his eyes, and the Knights straighten their backs in the wake of his power.

“Yes master.” They reply in unison, statuesque and obedient.

They don’t fool him, not Kylo, who can read their minds, who can hear the litany of thoughts linking between them all -- the overwhelming desire to indulge in pleasure. Kylo can’t help but think of something you once said to him a long long time ago, when he was not more than a Commander himself: only good Knights get to come.

“How do you want me, Supreme Leader?” You whisper, knowing they can hear.

Kylo debates that for a moment, eventually settling on turning your naked body around so that your back is no longer facing them. He’s still fully dressed of course, but in the shifting of it all, he manages to pull his cock out of his trousers. Understanding straight away, you grasp it and ease it right at your folds so that when you sink back down, his cock spears into you, the hard curve of it pushing at your cunt.

“Just like this, let them see what they’re missing, what they haven’t earned.” He tries to keep some level of composure, even if his hands are sweating inside his gloves.

You begin to move at once, a slow steady swivel of your hips, back and forth back and forth, lifting yourself up just enough to thrust back down onto him. Your knees rest on either side of his thick thighs, but Kylo isn’t so sure he wants you doing any of the work today. So instead, he gently guides you to recline against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder as your eyes flutter closed, your body stretched out and on display for them to see.

“Stars you’re soaking wet.” Kylo wraps his large gloved hands around your thighs and keeps them in place as he fucks up into you, sending the sticky sweet squelch of your cunt echoing around the room, “Been playing with this pretty pussy all day? Is that it?”

“Mmhmm – oh! I wanted to get fucked, wanted to be ready for you.” You moan, your nipples stiff as your breasts bounce with the growing force of his thrusts.

Where you had moved slowly, Kylo is not so patient, and he digs his fingers into your flesh to thrust up up up, hard and rough, punching out gasps and moans from you as his teeth sink into that shoulder of yours, a pleasurable pain.

“Your cock’s so big, yesyesyes! I want more, I want it harder.” You order, and he is happy to oblige, happy to give you what you want. He will always give you what you want, especially when the Knights can’t.

Kylo speeds himself up, holds you tighter, his cock pounding into you. It takes considerable effort from this position, but it’s worth it, he can do it and you want him to and so he will. From this spot on your shoulder, he can look down between your tits and see the beads of sweat that drip, the drool that’s spilling over your open mouth.

“I love your tits, squeezing them.” Kylo announces as he does just that, as he pinches your nipples hard between his fingers, tugs on them. The stimulation makes you whine, makes your knees try to pinch together even though they can’t. Kylo sucks marks onto your neck and shoulder, worries your earlobe between his teeth, “Be a good girl and spread your legs, let them see how wet you are for me.”

You hiccup out a moan as you force your legs wider, your pussy spread open, Kylo’s cock rammed deep inside of it. The Knights watch as he fucks you, they shift in their places, hands clenching and unclenching at their sides. Good, he thinks, let them grow jealous, be jealous of him that he has you, especially when you start crying out his name.

“Kylo! Kylo it’s – ohhhh yes! Right there!” Your eyes roll back into your head, and your toes begin to curl, your body shuddering and shaking.

“Are you going to come?” Kylo asks loudly as he finds your gspot, nudges the head of his cock against it over and over and over again, making your body wrestle in his grip, limbs jolting with electric pleasure.

“Yes, yes please Kylo let me? I want to come on your hard cock, please?” You beg, your lashes wet with tears as your chest heaves, all eyes on you. Knowing that they’re watching only makes you moan again, basking in their attention, in the attention coming from all around you.

Kylo smiles and presses a chaste kiss to the edge of your jaw, taking one of his hands away from your breast and instead letting the hot leather rub against your swollen, desperate clit, giving you what you want.

“I’m not going to stop, understand that? Even if you come I’m going to keep touching you like this.” He warns lowly, wanting to drag this out for as long as he possibly can. His fingers roll lazy circles around it, pressing down and rubbing up and down, petting your pussy, stroking your folds.

“Okay!! I want it, I want that, please let me come?” Your voice is breathy and high and Kylo nods, fucking against your gspot at the same time as he tweaks your clit, a sharp shout tearing out of your throat as you gush and gush on his cock.

“Mmmm, I love the way you squeeze my dick, precious.” Kylo smirks, feeling the way your cunt flutters and clenches in its orgasm, your hips and thighs moving moving moving like a wiggle worm, chasing after the feeling, fucking yourself through your own pleasure. Kylo kisses your tear-stained cheek and smiles, “Be loud, it’s okay, I want you to be loud for me.”

“Kylo!” You moan, as he holds up to his promise and continues to rub rub rub at your clit, even as the waves of heat and pleasure ripple spark snap up your spine, “Kylo please – please I – oh it’s good – fuck!”

“I know, you can take it, be good and take it.” Kylo’s voice is dark and dangerous, and there’s that flicker of something unspeakable in his eye again, one that is feeding off of the passion and lust and desire and love that you have for him.

“Ah, ah Ky-Kylo…!” You scream as your back arches, as your head thuds against the throne with the force of your body convulsing, his cock still fucking you, fingers still touching you, overwhelming you to the most delicious point.

“I’ve got you, I’m not done with you yet.” Kylo hums, a little shake of his head as he takes advantage of the limpness of your body as you revel in your orgasm.

Sitting up straight, Kylo uses the leverage of the throne to fuck up up up into you harder, fast and rough again, your come slicking him up and driving him faster, harder. Your body shakes and you can barely hang on, your head thrown back and eyes rolled into your skull, mouth dropped open just enough for Kylo to pull his fingers away from your clit and stuff them against your tongue instead.

He takes you like this for a long while, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you, the entire throne room a cacophony of your moans and his loud grunts. His thighs burn, he’s sweating inside his clothing, heat building up in the pit of his stomach.

Kylo doesn’t warn you when he comes, he only bites down on your shoulder hard enough to leave indents in the shape of his crooked crescent, and blows his load inside of you. Gulping down air, the both of you breathe in sync as come floods your cunt, overflowing, oozing out around his cock when he thrusts in a slower pace, trying to milk it for all he can. You’re blissed out of your fucking mind, a bad case of the giggles as you come down from your high, slumping against his chest.

“You did so well; look how full you are, so beautiful.” Kylo smiles, happy that you’re happy, his anger at the Knights all but evaporated as he kisses your cheek and whispers, “Love you.”

“Mmmhmm.” Is all you can manage back, but he knows that means you love him too.

With a final regard to his Knights, as he licks the sweat off of your throat, he can tell that they’ve learned their lesson. Each and every one of them is pent up, hard as a rock or dripping wet inside their own clothing, and so having decided he’s tormented them long enough, he turns his attention fully to being close with you, after a wave of his hand and a tired,

“Dismissed.”

----------------------------

Tagging some friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @materialisthicc @slut-for-harri @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #knights of ren #kor #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren smut #supreme leader kylo ren #my writing #adcu #adam driver fanfic

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insane-control-room · 5 years

Text

Make a Claim

A collaborative work with the wonderful, incredible, lovely, @randomwriteronline (ilysm <<<333)

ao3 link here

inspired by her fic The Thought

After a grave mistake, the doctor finally asks him, plain as day, to make their claim their own.

“I am at my wits end, Bandit!” Doc Carver muttered in a loss as he repaired the foolhardy puppet’s strings. “I have tried everything - letters, poems, offers to help him, repair him, even repainting his chipped coat! I cannot understand how a man can be so, so oblivious!”

Bandit did not say anything, merely sighing. He was used to the Doctor’s spiel at this point.

“And to add insult to injury...! After I repainted him, he hugged me, and I felt so overjoyed, but…” a noise of frustration broke out of the taller puppet’s mouth piece. “It was too short lived! And then he ran off, and I, like a coward, was too dumbfounded and startled to even try and go after him, so I didn’t follow. Ugh, that was just simply pathetic, wasn’t it, Bandit?”

“Dunno, doc,” he shrugged. “Never tried courtin’ someone, you know.”

“I know, I know,” Carver grumbled. “You know, you’re a great listener, Bandit.”

Looking into Bandit’s tired, cold, dead eyes, one could see that yes, he did in fact know he was a good listener, especially after having to hear these exact words being told to him a plethora of times. Far too many times, in his opinion. Doc had a bad habit of repeating himself, nearly as bad a habit as Banker’s natural stutter. But, honestly, Bandit did not really mind - it was comforting to have some sort of repetition, something natural and flowing, a familiar back and forth between the attempts at not dying any time he stepped outside of his few friends’ sight.

So he just stood, with the face of someone who was about to doze the hell off, as Carver grumbled away his woes and stitched his strings up. To the doctor's reminder to take care of himself, he replied with a firm thumbs up, and then he waddled awkwardly into what in an episode might have been the glorious sunset, but in this case was only another door through to the wild.

Leaving the good doctor alone. Wooden fingers drummed against the unpolished counter of his workstation, filling the deathly quiet world with a steady rhythm. An impatience filled his head, that constant nagging feeling to do something, anything. Instantly his thoughts turned to the Banker, the sweet, timid, scared Banker, and those thoughts curled around daring ideas and wishes like ivy growing steadily on an old house's wall; he shoved them away, just as the Banker had shoved him away. Yet they kept coming back, filling his mind over and over. Carver leaned against the wall heavily with the soft thud of wood on wood, rubbing at his face with a grumble. Another day, another lovesick time. He smiled wryly to himself, humoring his conundrum. A doctor's worst patient is themself, he concluded bitterly, and he could not heal his own aching heart, despite his biggest efforts. He slid down the wall, trying to quell his murmuring mind, so absolutely wanting, no, craving, no, needing another’s touch. Specifically, the gentle, shaky, newly restored touch of Banker. But it was not like he could just, just up and ask him! Oh, goodness, no! The gall, the audacity! Carver scowled, stuffing his hands into his pockets, then took out, picking up his saw to go out into the wild. He was running short on needle and thread anyways, especially with how often Bandit was getting himself de-stringed nowadays.

So he would return to his old place, murder decimate destroy harvest some aracknits, and pick up more thread.

On his way, he encountered a bank booth. He only got a glimpse of something - or rather, someone, a particular someone who wore a shirt of the same light blue as that of the sleeves he saw retreating into the dark right before leaving the place completely empty. Carver stared at the empty bank for a little, recalling the man that had been in it but moments before. Then, with a heavy, sorrowful sigh, he forced his legs to move past it. It would not have done much for either of them anyways, standing in front of each other, waiting for something to happen, and that yet, knowing their clashing natures, simply never would. Hefting his saw over his shoulder, he crept into Dead Man’s Gulch -- and then into the place he used to call home.

The sound of the spider-like creatures sent shivers up his wooden spine, the inebriating thrill of the hunt filling his chest. He forced himself to keep calm and still his nerves, knowing the adrenaline rushing in what he could consider veins would only give him shaky hands, like those of the Banker he so cherished. But he could not risk having them, not now. He silently stalked through the halls, a thin and lithe coyote between hazy sand stone creeping up to its prey.

A distinctly recognizable sound caught his attention. Ah-ha!, he thought, crouching furtively out of sight. There it was: one of those awful little yarn devils, scuttling around in the shade of the doctor's old home with his needle tick-tick-ticking all over the wooden floor. A quick, painless bounty of thread for the blade of Carver's saw. The Doc slowly crept closer and closer, trying to hide the glint of his weapon from his eyeless prey, sneaking forward without letting himself make a single sound…

A fulminous zac!, and the aracknit dissolved into a bunch of strings with four needles attached.

Carver grinned, at least, the best he could with a solid mouth, satisfied. He still got it.

He stopped to gather the materials, keeping himself from humming and attracting too many of the little beasties. A skittering passed behind him. He froze, readying his saw once more. He turned his head ever so slowly, his motions nearly unperceivable... An aracknit rushed by, and he swung, missing, his saw flying out of his nervous grip. He swore under his breath, chasting his own hastiness and going to retrieve it, but another spider ran by him and stole it from under his reaching hand. A hiss, long and slow, and so, so, so very many quiet, ticking aracknits. He tried to creep out of his corner, but found every stealthy pass blocked by yarny webs. Without a weapon, there was no way he could go through an open area. He would lose his strings in a matter of seconds if he even attempted to do so! Color slowly drained out of his vision, and he cursed his worsening luck. He could feel his wooden heart beat, faster and faster. More scampering. He demanded of himself to slow his breathing, and could not.

“Well, well, well, well, well,” the air turned cold. The supposed to be jolly and high voice creaked and rasped lowly, angrily, softly, dangerously. “What, or rather, who, do we have here, caught in the webs of his own prey?”

Carver stayed silent, going at a crawl to the thinnest web, planning on breaking through it and making a mad dash to the exit. The sound of the Faceless Bandit’s three footsteps clacked loudly in the still, dusty air, the scampering aracknits now far too quiet in comparison to the terrifying approach. Perhaps because they too, as simpleminded as a bug of raw yarn can be, could not help but being afraid of the scarred danger slowly coming closer.

“I didn’t know you were Dr. Jekyll,” Faceless chuckled, making the wood of Carver’s back to ripple in disgust. “Seeing that you’re playing around with Mr. Hyde.”

Doc Carver scowled. Goodness, how much he despised the other’s use of terrible puns.

“Stop playing around, my dear Doctor,” his words turned the land foul. The dead shivered and rose, disturbed from what should have been their peaceful eternal rest. “You can’t avoid me forever, you know….”

‘Yeah, right’, Carver rolled his eyes, then refocused onto the web he planned on escaping through. He poised himself to run, breathing in, waiting for Faceless to turn around… and the moment he did, he bolted with a, “Ha !”

It was a mistake.

A grave one.

Of course it was all planned out, of course there would not be a weak spot. After all, wherever a bone breaks, it becomes stronger than before.

Dozens and dozens of aracknits surrounded him, wooly fangs bared. Some trembled, others ducked away, and Carver realized that--

“They listen to me,” Faceless droned behind him. He grew very still. “Out of fear, yes, but still… aren’t they so cute? So sweet? So helpful?”

The doctor ran into the crowd of the small eight legged monsters, the spiders parting like a sea, but also like a sea, instantly drove back.

An aracknit jumped at Carver, and he tried to bat it away with his open arm, but it just scampered onto him, leaving a woven strand over his wrist, and jumped away.

Another did the same to his other side, and he struggled even more, despite the fact that he was given less and less ability to do so.

He felt a string snap, and his left leg gave out, leaving him stumbling to the ground. Second came the right arm. He screamed, not to ask for help, knowing no one would hear him, but to try and bolster his own strength: he bashed an aracknit down and restringed him arm, then going back to fighting with every ounce of strength he could have found desperately still kicking in his wooden limbs.

The aracknits kept coming, the few dozens that were cornering him turning into a swarm that only grew bigger at every turn of his head, crawling out of every single nook and cranny. They bit down on his strings almost faster than he could sew them back up (but luckily, not quite as fast), all while stabbing his legs with their small damned needles as they attempted to climb him, possibly to feed off of him, maybe to try to escape their terrifying master by reaching the top of the doctor's head.

Carver felt their webs wrap around him, pulling him back, swirling around him tight, tighter than the knot of a noose, tying him to the ground and the walls, nearly forcing him on his knees. He screamed - not to be heard, not to gather strength: he screamed in pure terror, almost as though he hoped the sound of his voice would delay the inevitable.

A fly. He was a fly, a careless naive fly, who had thought he could outrun the spiders only to fall in their mother's trap, the hunter becoming the hunted - and soon to be the slaughtered.

He gave one last weakened kick before his legs became a useless mermaid’s tail on land, only barely managing to hit an aracknit strong enough to shoo it away before the string wavered away, dropping onto ash. The little beastie tumbled over, legs frantically moving in a terrified attempt to scramble back onto them, and he pitied it, the shared pain of two prisoners trapped beyond their powers, and he wished that it could get to its feet, to give him a sign of hope that he too would rise, but alas.

It was crushed under the handle of an approaching scythe.

Its needles stiffened and twitched, fighting one last time against their lightning quick rigor mortis; then, it dissolved into a puddle of string under Carver's horrified eyes.

Silence. Accursed, blasphemous, terrifying silence. All the doctor could hear was his own panting breath. He had one string left, and a scythe tugged on it for a moment before sliding down his face, making his head tilt this way and that, as if inspecting a specimen most curiously.

The two puppets were still, and silent.

Not a spider crawled, not a soul moved, nothing breathed and it was all so strikingly obvious to Carver. Of course, of course, why should he have gone back here? He should have baited the aracknits out instead of going in like a fool, a cretin, a pup still unaware of the sly tactics of hunting, thinking it all as fun and games. How foolish he had been!

He wished that he was somewhere else.

Somewhere safe.

Somewhere to feel at home.

Hanging up his apron in the hall after a fulfilling day of making puppets feel better and smile, going into a cozy living room to join hands with a smiling Banker, to rest with tea in front of a warm fire and good book, simple domestic perfection and tranquility. That was all he wanted. Was it really too much to ask for…?

It seemed so.

A golden tear bubbled up in his eye, and he blinked rapidly to force it away.

It slid down his face, trailing down his scar.

His wooden skin crawled as a scarred and ripped hand came to rest on that mark, and he turned icy cold, shivering. God, how he wished a different, trembling, gentle hand were there! Even if he were in the same position, bound and inflexible and defenseless, he would have given anything for it. For that sweet intoxicating touch, the throne of which was instead being usurped by dirty, loathing, scratching fingers.

“Oh, my dearest Doctor Carver,” the mangled puppet laughed, his words airless. “You always were my least favorite. Always stealing from me those delightful strings of the weakened, of the broken and bent. And you, so resilient and resistant! Why so much of a fuss, hm?”

The doctor felt a knot tie in his throat. He forced himself to stare straight at the eyeless being looming cruelly before him in total defiance: if he was going to die there and then, he would have not given that piece of tumbleweed the satisfaction of seeing him bend his head to him.

“What is it, Doc?” the Faceless hissed, yanking him with annoyance at his silence, scratching at his face, gouging three sharp cuts under his scar that would have bled if the doctor had blood instead of sap, which oozed out of the crevices. “Cat got your tongue? Or did you ever have one? I doubt it, seeing as you’re quite dumb right now.”

Carver inhaled with a low growl.

“Go to hell.” he merely grumbled.

“Ooh, how raunchy,” Faceless snarked back, cutting into his own face with his scythe to display any kind of expression, the smirk he left in his own face jagged and twisted. Carver felt his stomach churn with frost at the sight, so crude and, and unnatural. The scythe returned to the bottom of his chin, sliding up to the top of his head to hook around the string that resided there. Carver shivered as he felt his singular string slowly sawed at.

The Faceless Bandit held his head firmly with one hand, pulled back his arm a little, swiftly, and-

Shhh.

Then there was nothing.

Death felt so weird, the doctor thought.

He had imagined it crueler, darker, colder, more painful. Lonelier.

Instead he felt only… suspended. As if in wait. For what, he could not tell. But it was a peaceful waiting, and he felt far from afraid.

He was enveloped into a gentle, vast hold. A warm, ginormous finger touched his face, tapping each of his eyes, and he felt air seep into his lungs once more.

Another hand carefully, gently, cautiously and lovingly placed strings onto his limbs.

The hands slowly vanished, and he found himself put into something enclosing and… safe?

And then he felt alive.

Which was not ideal, because it made him realize that he was in a claustrophobic and dark space, and with his most recent memories being those of his body tied up in yarn among an army of aracknits and every last one of his strings being cut by the cruel scythe of a criminal lacking a face, so he panicked and kicked the air in front of himself as hard as he could to escape his dark prison.

The Banker nearly had a heart attack when the coffin next to bank opened with a loud noise - only nearly, because he did not actually have a heart or circulatory system.

“B-Bandit? Is, is that you?” Banker’s sweet, timid, wonderful wonderful wonderful beautiful darling amazing incredible voice rang out in the empty room. The doctor pleaded in his heart, unable to find his voice, still gasping and panting, trembling and teary, ‘Oh, please, say more, speak more, keep talking, fill the void.’ There were quiet footsteps, the Banker creeping slowly out of his booth. “L-Lorelei? L-Lookout? Uh, um, Mr., Mr. West?”

And then he stood before him, looking down at the Doctor with four wide eyes.

Carver knew he was a mess, he knew he was shaking and sitting in the bottom of a coffin like container as his tears froze in his eyes, but the moment he saw the Banker looking down at him, silently, mouth open in a slight shock, he felt his frosted heart melt, finally filling his body with relieving warmth, color finally returning to his vision, and his shoulders finally untensed as he looked up at him with total and complete admiration.

The Banker stood, fidgeting with his hands nervously. He was about to start scratching them, but he stopped himself: the doctor had put a lot of time and… and care (wonderful, dutiful, devoted care, whispered the ghost of a thought in his mind) into that coat of paint. He couldn't just… he couldn't just ruin it like that. And, well, he couldn't, he couldn't just leave him there, hazy and frightened and in need of help, either.

He lent him his hand as that terrible fear gnawed at his stomach: “I, I didn't expect you to, to be here, D-Doc.”

Carver grabbed the appendix with both hands, pressing his fingers against its palms. He did not make any motion to stand up; completely honestly, he did not want to. He just wanted to hold it, to hold him, to feel the other puppet's arm curl against him, a soft, shy and gentle shield of blue and brown hues, of tremors and stutters, warming him endlessly. Oh, how he needed it! How he wished for it terribly, now and forever...

“D-Doc Carver?” the Banker felt that fire burn from his fingertips, spreading up his arm. He swallowed roughly to keep it from his face. “D-do you need to make a c-claim?”

“Yes,” he breathed, and pulled Banker’s hand down, close to his heart. Banker stared at him with wide eyes, big, terrified eyes. “Yes, I do, please, Banker, please… grant me this one claim.”

Banker trembled, and still, he asked; “What?”

“I've just been struck down with death,” Carver nearly whispered, eyes glazed with tears. “I have lost my confidence, please, Banker, dear, dear Banker of mine, please, kiss me with life, restore my confidence, please, that's the only claim I ask of you.”

Carver squeezed the hand tight, afraid it would escape his grip, knowing it could.

“K-kiss you?” Banker squeaked, eyes wide, the searing sensations spreading all over his face and neck, but, how enrapturing and captivating those burns were! And how loud the echo of the thought he'd been sure to have killed was! His fear tugged him away, or so it tried, for his body wouldn't move an inch.

Carver nodded, his eyes pleading, as he rubbed his face on the back of the hand, murmuring ‘please, please’ over and over, knowing rejection would have killed him on the spot, and yet not finding the will to care for it. Though he wouldn't beg for life from the Faceless Bandit that so hated him, he would beg and plead for death from the Banker he so adored.

The Banker breathed heavily, shivering. His head shook ever so slightly.

“N, no, no…” he whispered as he kneeled in front of the other puppet; “No, no…”, as he let the doctor cup his cheeks and rub his face on them; “No, no, no, no…”, as he returned the other's affection, kissing him in the way a puppet can kiss, wooden faces scratching ever so softly against each other, slowly, then faster; “No, no, no…”, as his fingers finally curled around the stitches of Carver's scar, stroking it idly, pushing away the tears that slowly dripped from the other’s face, finally seeing his fear as what it was: no fear at all, not even close to fear, even. It was something softer, something that he had selfishly denied himself through his own blindness. Oh, what good were four eyes when he could not use them to see what was right in front of him? What good was the blessing of sight without letting himself revel in the beautiful image in front of him? What good was living to play a part and nothing more if it did not allow him to have the gift of, the, no, his, his dear, dear, darling doctor to gaze upon?

He held Carver closer, nuzzling harder against him. The fire divamping inside him boiled and burned, it begged to be released, to be imprinted on the other puppet for all to see. He was kissing it into Doc, but it was not, it could not be enough. A single face was too restrictive, and he had to improvise, he had to figure out a way to make it more, to have more of the doctor pinned under him, to show him that yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, this was right and wanted and good.

His hand begrudgingly left the side of Carver's head and instead grabbed with all of its strength his arm. The good doctor nearly jumped up from his seat in the case, surprised, left breathless. His own fingers curled around the Banker's forearm, but the kiss they pressed against him was weak, not nearly as deep and passionate as the one pushing into his limb, far more shy and trembling, a near reverse of their usual attitudes. Carver’s whole being shivered with warmth. And oh, oh!, it was so good! So very good, so very delicious, the sensation spreading from that long, long kiss to the rest of his body… goodness, he was addicted to it already. That was it, his only wish, his reason to live. All he wanted was for that magnificent pressure to never soften and leave.

But the Banker had other plans. For him, it was too long, too time consuming; it didn't let him give Carver everything they both wanted desperately after letting so much time pass by. So instead he began to grab and release, grab and release, fast and hungry, pressing quick hasty kisses all over the doctor. On his arms, his chest, his neck, his shoulders, his sides - to hell with his part!, to hell with his fear! - even reaching further down, gripping Carver’s hips and legs in a frenzy, dominated by nothing but the burning embers inside of his wooden frame that pushed him to love and love and love again.

Carver was too slow to reply to those attentions, and he found himself overwhelmed. He was in an almost comatose bliss, jolting and shivering with little gasps and murmurs of, “Yes, yes, p-please, yes….”, only barely managing to nuzzle back his lover's face, goodness gracious, this was it, the moment he always dreamed of, his lover, they were lovers now. He did not feel like himself, not at all. He was out of his body, out of his mind, looking down on that scene from a warm cloud of ecstasy, the prickling of pleasure taking over him in waves.

It took what felt like ages, for the Banker's wild rush of claiming Carver as his to consume itself. It exhausted them both, to the point where they were moments away from collapsing entirely in the box Carver rested in, seconds from slipping into pure bliss and tranquility. They held each other close as they rested, panting softly, Banker’s hand finally finding its place on Carver’s cheek, gently trailing the scar there. Then he felt the ridges, his eyes widening, and he pulled away a bit to inspect the mark, and to his horror and sadness found the three fresh cuts under his hand.

“C-Carver, you, you’re hurt!” he exclaimed, his gentle shaky fingers turning the doctor’s head to inspect the cuts better. “O-Oh dear, why didn't, why didn’t you t-tell me?”

“It’s fine, it really is,” Carver reassured him, though he leaned into and reveled in his touch. “It’s nothing that I can’t mend.”

Banker frowned at that, and so Carver might have even said something more, had a not-so-freshly-painted-anymore visage not rubbed gently on his wounds, kissing away the sap seeping from the small gouges. The kiss threw him for an incredulous loop, stunning him. Had his wood been replaced by flesh, he would have been redder than a blooming hibiscus.

Perhaps it was seeing the doctor like that that slowly brought the four-eyed puppet to his senses. All those newly formed memories reverberated in his mind, slowly becoming clear, first their gentle, almost reluctant, kiss, then the frenzied adrenalinic boiling and burning and exploding cravings that had taken control of him, and finally, when he realized the spontaneous act of kissing those little scrapes, he finally got a grasp on his actions. He gradually began shaking, hands going to cover his mouth already muttering apologies, his legs trying to push him to his feet - oh, but Carver would not have any of it.

His gentle grip tightened around the other's waist, keeping him from escaping into the dark of his shame. Banker would have blushed furiously had he skin, feeling the rippling strength of Doc Carver’s arm around him, his breath hitching as those thoughts that he thought he killed earlier swarmed back into his mind. The doctor collected himself as well, slowly, naturally slipping back into his ordinarily calm and proper self, just like the Banker had returned to his anxieties and worries, their regular personalities bleeding back into their forms as if regaining consciousness after a long sleep.

“Dear,” goodness, how wonderful it felt to say that, “Dear, darling, love, what's troubling you?”

“I- I, I… Doc, I-”

“Carver, dear, please. Carver is just fine.”

“I, I… Car, Carver, I didn't - oh, oh god, I'm, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-”

“Oh, you did!” the doctor adamantly insisted, his eyes widening, but in complete confidence. “We’re… us now. It’s okay, we’re okay… I’m here, you’re here, it’s okay. We… we are good.”

The Banker tried shrinking himself in the other's arms without much success. Carver merely huffed, an adoring look in his eyes, and brought him closer. His gentle nuzzles onto his recently repainted cheek were a balm for the Banker's nerves.

“There's nothing to fear, my darling.” he murmured into the puppet’s ears, feeling him relax from his smooth accent, melting against him in a pleasant warmth, “Hm, but your booth… it seems quite comfortable, wouldn't you say?”

The other nodded, humming absentmindedly, one of his hands trailing up Carver’s arm, twirling around his neck to run over his hair. He had always wondered how it felt, and now found that it was not only wood, but covered in felt to give it a soft velvety texture, and the same went for his handlebar moustache. Come to think of it, nearly everything about the doctor was just so soft and warmly inviting.

“Should we head over to it, then?” Carver's voice caught up to him, pulling him back to reality, yet sending him from one pleasant distraction to another. He barely had to answer, the slightest sigh and the smallest nod, and the doctor slid a firm and strong hand under his knees, and rose him up, carrying him into the bank much like a newly wed groom carries his beloved man into their just made house.

There was some cloth folded in a corner, arranged as if to simulate what could have once seemed like a bed which clearly had been abandoned for the anxious Banker’s many sleepless nights, him preferring instead to pass out in fear on his counter.

The doctor laid him on top of the covers gently before positioning himself on top of him. One of his hands tenderly stroked his cheek, his legs straddling the Banker, looking down at him, eyes shielded by his glasses, though behind those lenses, his eyes were full of pure admiration.

The four-eyed puppet adjusted himself under his weight almost sleepily: “Carver, love…” oh, to be called like that forever and always, what shivers did it send down his spine!, “What…”

“Please, my dearest.” Carver leaned down to press kisses to his throat, and purred against his neck, hands pressing light kisses with thumbs swirling on wooden skin so gently, “You don't truly think I am sated of your kisses? I waited so long for you…”

The Banker sighed blissfully, body melting and becoming as soft as warm clay. He wrapped his arms around his dear, dear lover and let his head fall back on the bed that hadn't seen him in weeks, basking in the wonderful burn enveloping him.

How curious, he thought to himself. He could hear a hummingbird sing in the back of his mind.

For some odd reason, he heard Bandit clear his throat in the back of his mind too.

Then Doc Carver let out a small grumbling shriek, rolling over and tumbling off of a Banker too hazy to notice anything.

“H-Hello Bandit!” Carver stumbled over his words as the cowboy looked at them from the counter where his elbow was leaning on. The four-eyed puppet called for him needily, drawling out the last part of the doctor’s name, his grasp on reality basically non-existent. Carver turned bright red. “F-fancy seeing you here….”

“Sure is, Doc, sure is.” Showdown smiled, cheek resting in his hand, giving him a quick wink. “Mind if I make a deposit?”

“Um, sure,” the doctor stuttered, rushing to the desk to swipe the cash, hastily dumping it in a vault labeled ‘SHOWDOWN BANDIT’.

The cowboy tipped his hat politely: “Thanks, Doc.”

“N-no problem,” he mumbled, staring at the ground.

“Now I suggest ya go back to yer other business. He sounds pretty… um… critical.” Showdown nodded in the direction of the lovestruck Banker. The doctor tried to swallow, and failed. “Y’know what I mean, Doc?”

“Carveeeer, love, please… please, where did you go?” the poor soul lamented, turning on the bed. “You're so cruel, so cruel… ! Oh, love, please… please, I need you… !”

“I know.” Carver muttered to Showdown, closing the Bank’s shutters and swiftly turning around, rushing back into the arms of his darling, finally together.

#control art #control writes #collab #writing collab #showdown bandit #sb #the banker #doc carver x banker #doc carver #pining #arachnophobia #araknits #faceless bandit #showdown #near death experience #love #fluff and angst #happy with an angst ending

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a-dinosaur-a-day · 5 years

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Zygodactylus

By José Carlos Cortés

Etymology: The one with two toes forward and two backward

First Described By: Ballman, 1969

Classification: Dinosauromorpha, Dinosauriformes, Dracohors, Dinosauria, Saurischia, Eusaurischia, Theropoda, Neotheropoda, Averostra, Tetanurae, Orionides, Avetheropoda, Coelurosauria, Tyrannoraptora, Maniraptoriformes, Maniraptora, Pennaraptora, Paraves, Eumaniraptora, Averaptora, Avialae, Euavialae, Avebrevicauda, Pygostylia, Ornithothoraces, Euornithes, Ornithuromorpha, Ornithurae, Neornithes, Neognathae, Neoaves, Australaves, Psittacopasserae, Passeriformes, Zygodactylidae

Referred Species: Z. grivensis, Z. ignotus, Z. luberonensis, Z. grandei, Z. ochlurus

Status: Extinct

Time and Place: Between 52 to 17 million years ago, from the Ypresian of the Eocene through the Burdigalian of the Miocene

Zygodactylus is known from the Fossil Butte Member of the Green River Formation, the Renova Formation, the Revest-des-Brousses Formation, and the Wintershof-West Formation, a range extending over both North America and Europe

Physical Description: Zygodactylus was a small tree-dwelling bird, about the size of living tyrant-flycatchers (so no more than 12 or so centimeters long, probably usually smaller than this). It resembled living songbirds in most ways - it had a round body, small head, long and very skinny legs, and round wings. However, Zygodactylus differed from extinct songbirds in one very notable and important way: instead of having three toes pointed forward and one toe pointed backward, Zygodactylus had two toes pointed forward and two backward. This is important for evolutionary biology related reasons - which I’ll get into in the “other” section. They also had long, pointed beaks, like many kinds of living passerines. Any potential color of Zygodactylus has not been studied, but it stands to reason that it would have some distinct patterning to stand out during mating displays and in its forested habitats.

Diet: Based on the shape of the beak, it seems likely that Zygodactylus fed mainly on invertebrates and insects, using the sharp beak to spear slimy food or dig into bark for hidden grubs.

By Ripley Cook

Behavior: Zygodactylus would have been a primarily tree-dwelling bird, spending most of its time walking among the branches and searching for food. It would have used its specialized foot structure to hold onto tree branches and even trunks, though its toes were small and skinny and not the most adapted for trunk-grabbing. It would have probably spent a good amount of its time hopping from tree to tree on its quest, and possibly dug into wood to find food. This was a common bird, and as such it stands to reason that Zygodactylus would have been at least somewhat social - though whether that took the form of small family flocks or large flocks is uncertain. It would have taken care of its young, though beyond that we know little of its behavior.

Ecosystem: Zygodactylus lived for an extremely long period of time in Earth’s history, going from the origins of many modern groups of birds in the Eocene until the diversification of these groups into their specific families in the Miocene. In general, Zygoadctylus kept to forested environments, even as the global rainforest of the Eocene depleted and was replaced by more varied habitats, including vast arid shrubland and the first grasslands. Zygodactylus is known from such varying environments from the rainforest-lake of the Green River Formation, to a coastal mangrove forest, to a shoreline wood.

Green River Formation by Julius Cystoni

In the lakeside rainforest of the Green River Formation, Zygodactylus lived amongst sycamore trees along with ferns and palms, affected by the constant change of the Rocky mountains around them - which would periodically dump phosphorus into the lakes. There were a variety of fish such as rays, catfish, suckers, and herrings and sardines. Crocodiles like Borealosuchus were frequent, as well as many early primates, hoofed mammals, bats, and an armadillo-esque mammal. Dinosaurs were some of the most iconic creatures at the Fossil Lake, including the seagull-like Frigatebird Limnafregata, the flighted ratites Pseudocrypturus and calciavis, the flamingo-duck Presbyornis, the pheasant Gallinuloides, the early swift-hummingbird Eocypselus, the frogmouth-esque Fluvioviridavis and Prefica, the mousebird Anneavis, the woodpecker Neanis, the Parrots of Prey Cyrilavis and Tynskya, and Zygodacytlus’ own cousin Eozygodactylus. Of these, Zygodactylus would have had to watch out the most for its own relatives, the Parrots of Prey!

In the Dunbar Creek member of the Renova Formation, Zygodactylus lived in a more transitional environment, as the global rainforests were replaced with plains and other arid habitats. Here there were a variety of pine trees, as well as flowering plants like violets, roses, grapes, maples, and nogals. This was a series of woods surrounding ponds and streams feeding into said ponds, with plenty of habitats for Zygodactylus to hang out in. There were plenty of mammals here, including early dogs and horses, marsupials and rabbits, rodents and brontotheres, as well as rhinos. Other birds are not known from this formation.

By Ashley Patch

In the coastal mangrove of the Rupelian of Southern France, Zygodactylus was joined by a wide variety of mammals - including rodents, horse relatives, ruminants, hedgehogs, and truly weird and giant hoofed mammals like Anthracotherium. As for other dinosaurs, there were early trogon relatives like Primotrogon, early hummingbirds like Eurotrochilus, early cuckoos like Eocuculus, and crane relatives like Parvigrus.

Finally, in the shoreline woodland of the Burdigalian of Germany, Zygodactylus lived among a wide variety of flowering trees, more so than conifers that had been more prevalent in the Eocene. Asterids, buckthorns, grapes, maples, and magnolias were especially common. Here, rodents were the primary mammalian neighbors, though there were some ruminants, bats, and carnivorous mammals like Prosansanosmilus. Snakes were even more common, though, and would have been major predators of Zygodactylus, such as boas and cobras. Birds were rarer here, though the pheasant Paleortyx was present alongside Zygodactylus.

By Jack Wood

Other: Zygodactylus is of fundamental importance because it is a missing link - a fossil that confirms the weird relationships we recover with genetic data. For a long time, genetic studies of the relationships between birds revealed a result literally no one would guess based on their shapes and ecologies: parrots and passerines were sibling groups. This was a major disconnect for researchers, since for a long time it was thought that passerines were more closely related to some of the other large tree-dwelling dinosaur groups with three toes forward and one back - namely, mousebirds and quetzals. So, what was needed was something linking the creatures with two forward and two back - like passerines - and the three forward one back songbirds. Zygodactylus and its relatives were the answer to that question. Being - by and large - almost identical to living passerines, these ancient birds had the legs and bodies of their living relatives, but the feet of their cousins. This showcases that, in terms of evolving for tree-dwelling, songbirds focused on their wing shape and skinny legs before changing up their feet. This makes Zygodactylus - and its relatives - utterly vital transitional fossils for the evolution of the most speciose group of living dinosaurs, the songbirds.

Species Differences: Z. grivensis and Z. grandei are known from the Green River Formation of Wyoming, with Z. grandei having shorter foot bones; Z. ochlurus is known from the Dunbar Creek Member of the Renova Formation; Z. luberornensis is known from the Revest-des-Brousses Formation of France; and Z. ignotus is known from the Wintershof-West of Germany.

~ By Meig Dickson

Sources under the Cut

Grande, L., P. Bucheim. 1994. Palaeontological and Sedimentological Variation in Early Eocene Fossil Lake. Contributions to Geology, University of Wyoming 30: 45.

Hieronymus, T. L., D. A. Waugh, J. A. Clarke. 2019. A new zygodactylid species indicates the persistence of stem passerines into the early Oligocene in North America. BMC Evolutionary Biology 19: 3.

Hutchison, J. H. 2013. New turtles from the Paleogene of North America. In D. B. Brinkman, P. A. Holroyd, J. D. Gardner (eds.), Morphology and Evolution of Turtles 477-497

Mayr, G. 2008. Phylogenetic affinities of the enigmatic avian taxon Zygodactylus based on new material from the early Oligocene of France. Journal of Systematic Palaeontology 6(3):333-344

Mayr, G. 2009. Paleogene Fossil Birds. Springer-Verlag Berlin Heidelberg.

Mayr, G. 2017. Avian Evolution: The Fossil Record of Birds and its Paleobiological Significance. Topics in Paleobiology, Wiley Blackwell. West Sussex.

Olson, S. L. 1977. A Lower Eocene frigatebird from the Green River Formation of Wyoming (Pelecaniformes: Fregatidae). Smithsonian Contributions to Paleobiology 35:1-33

Olson, S. L., H. Matsuoka. 2005. New specimens of the early Eocene frigatebird Limnofregata (Pelecaniformes: Fregatidae), with the description of a new species. Zootaxa 1046: 1 - 15.

Smith, M. E., B. Singer, A. Carroll. 2003. 40Ar/39Ar Geochronology of the Eocene Green River Formation, Wyoming. Geological Society of America Bulletin 115 (5): 549 - 565. Stidham, T. A. 2014. A new species of Limnofregata (Pelecaniformes: Fregatidae) from the Early Eocene Wasatch Formation of Wyoming: implications for palaeoecology and palaeobiology. Palaeontology: 1 - 11.

Smith, N. A., A. M. DeBee, J. A. Clarke. 2018. Systematics and phylogeny of the Zygodactylidae (Aves, Neognathae) with description of a new species from the early Eocene of Wyoming, USA. PeerJ 6: e4950.

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incorrectmerlinquotes · 5 years

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i heard merlin whump fic recs... please... f e e d m e . . .

OH MAN AM I GLAD YOU ASKED DFGHRFGGFFGHGFG PREPARE FOR,,,,,,,,,,,,,, A DELUGE,,,,,,,, OF MERLIN PAIN,,,,,,,,,,

Unbreakable by eight0fhearts

S4 timeline, multi-chapter, complete, and whoo, this one is where it’s AT, my man. A whumpist’s bread-and-butter, if you will. The Quintessential Enchanted!Arthur-hurts-Merlin fic, and oh, MAN, does this author do it SO WELL fghnrfhbfgb like,,,, eight0fhearts,,,,,, teach me,,,,,,,

Trigger warnings for physical + verbal abuse, of course, but I really think that goes without saying for that one!! And it’s not SUPER graphic, either, at least not in my opinion??

Worse Things by Kita Hart

S4 timeline, one-shot, and not necessarily “whump” in the strictest sense of the word, more like,,,,,,,, Merlin is a fucking idiot who tries to cope by stuffing his feelings down and Not Thinking About It, but luckily Arthur and the knights are Ultimate Bros™ and give him lots of comfort. Again, not necessarily whump, but VERY cute, and a rare opportunity for Merlin to get some TLC the series never gives him. 10/10 would recommend. spoilers for 4x08.

Trigger warnings for physical + verbal abuse.

Please Help My People by M1ssUnd3rst4nd1ng

Between S4 and S5, in-progress, anD???? EXTREMELY GOOD. CANNOT RECOMMEND ENOUGH. LIKE,,,,, I DONT WANT TO SPOIL,,,,, BUT MERLIN,,,,,,, GETS HURT,,,,,, A LOT,,,,, AND THINKS ARTHUR,,,,,,, DOESNT CARE???? VERY GOOD EXTREMELY ANGSTY MUCH WHUMP SO ABUSE VERY EXTREMELY GOOD. CANNOT RECOMMEND ENOUGH HONESTLY. OH ALSO IT’S A REVEAL FIC AND IT’S BASED OFF “GOD HELP THE OUTCASTS” FROM THE DISNEY ADAPTATION OF THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME WHICH IS,,,,, MY FAVORITE DISNEY FILM,,,, EVER,,,,, SO,,,,, THERES THAT,,,,,,

Trigger warnings for physical + verbal abuse, and I think Merlin also gets flogged at some point?? I can’t remember gffgfgb iTS EXTREMELY GOOD THOUGH

Bandits, it’s Always Bandits! by Adeliade

Anywhere from S4 to S5 timeline, one-shot, and your obligatory Merlin-gets-hurt-and-tries-to-hide-it fic!! Very well-done, too, we get to see the knights and Arthur being protective of Merlin!! And Arthur yells. a lot. it’s really fucking good omg.

Trigger warnings for violence and broken bones!!

At a Loss for Words by staymagical

S4 timeline, multi-chapter, complete, and VERY good omg!!!! Merlin gets captured by slave traders, the knights are extremely protective of him, Arthur is extremely protective of him, Gaius is extremely protective of him!!!!! And ohhhhhhh the physical whump is JUST the tip of the iceberg. this author doesnt fuck around.

Trigger warning for,,,,,, everything tbh lmao most notably forced drugging and a resultant addiction + withdrawal, slave!Merlin, physical + verbal abuse and disabled Merlin ((and no, he doesn’t find a magical cure. I told you this author doesnt fuck around.))

Different by 1917farmgirl

Early S1 timeline and????? so cute???? Merlin’s struggling to adjust to life in the city and his duties to Arthur, and the other servants aren’t making it easy for him. Admittedly, all the actual hurt happens off-screen, but it’s still a nice look into Merlin’s sense of separation and loneliness from other people, and his desperate desire to find a place where he fits in. Also some absolutely GOD-TIER fatherly!Gaius like holy shit who the FUCK gave this author the right to give me feels abt a crusty old physician.

Trigger warnings for bullying!!

Silence Cuts Loudest Through the Chaos by 1917farmgirl

Early-series timeline, post-S2, if I’m not mistaken, incomplete, and SO. MUCH. WHUMP. I DONT WANT TO SPOIL BUT MERLIN IS A SLAVE. ARTHUR THINKS HE’S DEAD. MERLIN GETS BEATEN. AND STRIPPED OF HIS MAGIC. AND STARVED. AND OVERWORKED TO THE POINT OF PRETTY MUCH COLLAPSE. AND DID I MENTION ARTHUR THINKS HE’S DEAD AND THEN HE FINDS OUT HE’S NOT AND bhytghgfrtyhtfrgbhgtfgbhn SO. GOOD. LITERALLY WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT. WHAT. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT!!! PLEASE!!! TELL ME!!! BECAUSE!!! I DONT KNOW!!!

Physical + verbal abuse, torture, slave!Merlin, magic suppression, all the good stuff!!!

Ignis Fatuus by Ericka Jane

S4 timeline, picks up shortly after 4x03 if I’m not mistaken, three-shot, complete, EXTREMELY FUCKING ANGSTY LIKE HOLY SHIT I WAS. I WAS NOT PREPARED. Really can’t say much without spoiling, but Merlin and Arthur get kidnapped!! Merlin is protective of Arthur and Arthur is protective of Merlin and Merlin gets tortured and a magic reveal and Arthur is many shocked much surprised o h m y l o r d its good!!!

Torture and magic reveal!!

Burning Amidst an Ocean by LFB72

Anywhere from S4 to S5 in timeline, multi-chapter, complete, aND EXTREMELY GOOD OH MY GOD LIKE I,,,,, SCREAMED,,,,,, SO MUCH,,,,,, MY FIRST TIME READING THIS I COULD NOT BELIEVE!!!!! HURT!MERLIN???? SICK!MERLIN??? FEVERED!MERLIN??? DELIROUS!MERLIN??? SCAR REVEAL????? FREYA REVEAL????? MERLIN ALSO NEARLY DROWNS IN LIKE CH1 LIKE LET THAT SINK IN SHIT GETS REAL IN CH1 AND DOESNT STOP FROM THERE ITS S O G O O D OH MY GOd!!!!!

Near-drowning, serious illness, hallucinations + delusions, mainly just things like that!!

Don’t Abandon Me by staymagical

S4 to S5 in timeline, one-shot, and whump is off-screen buT DOES IT MATTER WHEN ITS THIS GOOD??? NO. IT DOESNT. ABSOLUTELY NOT. AT ALL. SUPER GOOD SHGTFGHNGFGBHFGBH AND GUILTY!ARTHUR TO BOOT??? Your essential Merlin-gets-tortured-for-information-about-Arthur with some nice twists!!! another by the author who doesnt fuck around. gotta remember this one.

Referenced torture, also starvation and thirst, but all only mentioned!!

Beyond Recall by laurajslr

S4 to S5 timeline, VERY LONG multi-chapter, complete, and ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE honestly I CANNOT speak of this one highly enough. I’d argue it’s not so much a Merlin whump as it is just,,,,, a lot of manipulation? I’m going to explain it very badly so bear with me, basically Merlin loses all his memory of Camelot and Arthur and the knights, like he remembers nothing from the first episode onward, but it’s due to blunt-force head trauma rather than magical means, so that’s a twist!! But without his memory, he’s manipulated into serving another king who’s got an agenda AGAINST Arthur, and plans to use Merlin as a SPY for him AGAINST Camelot!!! So then it gets REALLY good !!! gosh just you WAIT and SEE I cOULD NOT put this one down it’s so good!!! kept me hooked all the way through!!!

warning for head injuries, obviously, but also magic reveal, psychological manipulation, essentially a slave!Merlin fic, but in a very unorthodox sense.

Dark Thoughts by Stealth Dragon

One-shot, complete, dbhgfghgfghbgf sUPER GOOD!!!! Something,,,,,,, magical happens?? And gives Merlin the temporary ability to read minds, and then there’s this CREEPY-ASS MOTHERFUCKER WHO HITS MERLIN he’s some kind of lord, i think?? I haven’t read this one in, gosh, YEARS I’m probably not remembering parts of it right. that’s the main gist anyway.

Warning for attempted non-con, physical violence, and some pretty graphic imagery!!

Between a Rock and a Hard Place by LFB72

S4 maybe pre-S5 timeline, multi-chapter, complete!!! sggfgfgvf l i s t e n,,,,, i havent read this one in a while but it is GOOD omg I’ve been meaning to reread it I just haven’t found the time yet but I remember there’s definitely a stone in there somewhere that detects magic, and Arthur gets his hands on it, I think it might actually be a gift from a visiting lord or something, and if Merlin goes ANYWHERE near the stone, the stone is a little bitch squealer, so Merlin’s gotta find a way to NOT set it off and still be near Arthur. cUE MAGIC SUPPRESSION!!!! rare example in which Merlin is a willing participant!!! have I mentioned magic suppression fics are my FAVE because magic suppression fics are my FAVe. fuckin fight me.

aforementioned magic suppression, like really graphic, too, goes into detail about how painful and damaging it is to block it up like that. kudos to the author for doing that. also magic reveal and violence!!

Honestly, I’m probably forgetting several hundred, there are just so many good ones, but this compilation is a pretty good start at least. Honestly, the authors mentioned on this list have a LOT more fics than just the ones I mentioned, I just picked my personal hurt!Merlin faves!! i hope this feeds you for now lmao if you want any more pLEASE feel free to ask because let me tell you i could talk all day and every day about Merlin whump lmao.

((((also I’m onceandfuturewarlock on both Fanfiction and AO3, and i write whump as well!! i’ll be the first to admit it’s not v good, absolutely NOTHING on anyone else on this list, but both my fics Do You Feel Like a Young God and Heavy Stones Fear No Weather have some hurt!Merlin that i took far FAR too much pleasure in writing lmao. Heavy Stones has referenced non-con, though, and Do You Feel Like a Young God has on-screen non-con, as well as physical + verbal abuse, so stay safe!!!)))))

Anyway, I hope you like the list!!

#merlin #bbc merlin #ask #anonymous #mod answers #Anonymous

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Mormonism

New Post has been published on https://bedisciple.com/begospel-clear/false-gospels/mormonism/

Mormonism

Overview

The Biblical Gospel

The Teaching of Mormonism on Salvation

Reasons Mormonism’s Teachings on Salvation are Incorrect

Other False Teachings of Mormonism

Verses to Use to Share the Gospel with Mormons

Fun Facts About the Founder: Joseph Smith

The Biblical Gospel

Understanding the true Gospel makes identifying false gospels easy. Therefore, we’ll start with the true Gospel according to God’s Word. Romans 1-4 is where there Gospel is clearly articulated in the Bible. We’ve covered this in detail in BeGospel Clear, so we’ll be brief here. The Gospel according to God’s Word in Romans 1-4 is this:

God is Holy – He cannot allow any sin in His presence and must judge all sin.

We Are Sinners – We deserve the punishment of eternal death for our sin.

Jesus Died for Our Sin – He paid for all of our sins in full.

Our Part is Faith Alone – When we trust that Jesus paid for our sin in full, His payment is applied to our lives. We are forgiven. We are also given the righteousness of Christ as a free gift. This righteousness is credited or imputed to our account. We did not earn this righteousness, nor do we deserve it. It is a free gift given by “grace.” Grace simply means “undeserved and unmerited favor.”

The Teaching of Mormonism on Salvation

In order to accurately understand the teachings of Mormonism, we need to consult their sources of doctrine.These are the Book of Mormon, The Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price. Here are a few quotes from their sources about how someone can be saved:

“For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do,” (The Book of Mormon, 2 Nephi 25:23)

“Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ; and if by the grace of God ye are perfect in Christ, ye can in nowise deny the power of God” (The Book of Mormon, Moroni 10:32).

The 13th President of the Mormon Church, Ezra Taft Benson, said, “What is meant by ‘after all we can do’? ‘After all we can do’ includes extending our best effort. ‘After all we can do’ includes living His commandments. ‘After all we can do’ includes loving our fellowmen and praying for those who regard us as their adversary. ‘After all we can do’ means clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, visiting the sick and giving ‘succor [to] those who stand in need of [our] succor’ (Mosiah 4:15)-remembering that what we do unto one of the least of God’s children, we do unto Him (see Matthew 25:34-40; D&C 42:38). ‘After all we can do’ means leading chaste, clean, pure lives, being scrupulously honest in all our dealings and treating others the way we would want to be treated” (The Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson, p.354. Brackets in original).

Reasons Mormonism’s Teachings on Salvation are Incorrect

Works Gospel

It is clear from their teachings that they teach that salvation is by faith and works. This is in direct conflict with God’s Word, which teaches salvation by faith apart from works:

“For we maintain that a man is justified by faith apart from works of the Law.” Romans 3:28

“Now to the one who works, his wage is not credited as a favor, but as what is due. But to the one who does not work, but believes in Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is credited as righteousness” Romans 4:4-5

“Is the Law then contrary to the promises of God? May it never be! For if a law had been given which was able to impart life, then righteousness would indeed have been based on law.” Galatians 3:21

“For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.” Ephesians 2:8-9

False God

God used to be a man on another planet, (Mormon Doctrine, p. 321; Joseph Smith, Times and Seasons, vol. 5, p. 613-614; Orson Pratt, Journal of Discourses, vol. 2, p. 345; Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses, vol. 7, p. 333).

“The Father has a body of flesh and bones as tangible as man’s . . . ” (D&C 130:22).

God is in the form of a man, (Joseph Smith, Journal of Discourses, vol. 6, p. 3).

“God himself was once as we are now, and is an exalted man, and sits enthroned in yonder heavens!!! . . . We have imagined that God was God from all eternity. I will refute that idea and take away the veil, so that you may see,” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p. 345).

God the Father had a Father, (Joseph Smith, History of the Church, vol. 6, p. 476; Heber C. Kimball, Journal of Discourses, vol. 5, p. 19; Milton Hunter, First Council of the Seventy, Gospel through the Ages, p. 104-105).

God resides near a star called Kolob, (Pearl of Great Price, p. 34-35; Mormon Doctrine, p. 428).

God had sexual relations with Mary to make the body of Jesus, (Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses, vol. 4, 1857, p. 218; vol. 8, p. 115). This one is disputed among many Mormons and not always ‘officially’ taught and believed. Nevertheless, Young, the 2nd prophet of the Mormon church taught it.

This contradicts God’s word, which teaches that there is one God who is everlasting, a spirit, and never had relations with Mary:

“‘You are My witnesses,’ declares the Lord, ‘And My servant whom I have chosen, So that you may know and believe Me and understand that I am He. Before Me there was no God formed, and there will be none after Me.” Isaiah 43:10

“God is spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.” John 4:24

“Now the birth of Jesus [r]Christ was as follows: when His mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child by the Holy Spirit.” Matthew 1:18

False Jesus

Some of Mormonism’s false teachings about Jesus include:

The first spirit to be born in heaven was Jesus, (Mormon Doctrine, p. 129).

Jesus and Satan are spirit brothers and we were all born as siblings in heaven to them both, (Mormon Doctrine, p. 163; Gospel Through the Ages, p. 15).

Jesus’ sacrifice was not able to cleanse us from all our sins, (murder and repeated adultery are exceptions), (Journal of Discourses, vol. 3, 1856, p. 247).

God’s Word teaches us that Jesus is God in the flesh, the Son of God, the second person of the Trinity:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being.” John 1:1-3

“And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.” John 1:14

Since Mormonism teaches a false god and a false Jesus, as well as, a false means of salvation (by works) it is therefore…(you guessed it) false!

Other False Teachings of Mormonism

False Teachings

After you become a good Mormon, you have the potential of becoming a god, (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p. 345-347, 354.)

There is a mother god, (Articles of Faith, by James Talmage, p. 443).

God is married to his goddess wife and has spirit children, (Mormon Doctrine, p. 516).

There are three levels of heaven: telestial, terrestrial, and celestial, (Mormon Doctrine, p. 348).

A plan of salvation was needed for the people of earth so Jesus offered a plan to the Father and Satan offered a plan to the father but Jesus’ plan was accepted. In effect the Devil wanted to be the Savior of all Mankind and to “deny men their agency and to dethrone god,” (Mormon Doctrine, p. 193; Journal of Discourses, vol. 6, p. 8).

There is no salvation without accepting Joseph Smith as a prophet of God (Doctrines of Salvation, vol. 1, p. 188).

Baptism for the dead, (Doctrines of Salvation, vol. II, p. 141). This is a practice of baptizing each other in place of non-Mormons who are now dead. Their belief is that in the afterlife, the “newly baptized” person will be able to enter into a higher level of Mormon heaven.

False Prophecies

“and I prophesy in the name of the Lord God of Israel, unless the United States redress the wrongs committed upon the Saints in the state of Missouri and punish the crimes committed by her officers that in a few years the government will be utterly overthrown and wasted, and there will not be so much as a potsherd left…” (History of the Church, vol. 5, p. 394, May 1843) – Joseph Smith

Verses to Use to Share the Gospel with Mormons

Here is a link for verses to use to share the true Gospel with Mormons: https://carm.org/verses-witnessing-to-mormons

Fun Facts About the Founder: Joseph Smith

Joseph Smith had up to 40 wives, some of which were only 14 years old. https://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/11/us/its-official-mormon-founder-had-up-to-40-wives.html?_r=1

The Book of Mormon is full of historical and archeological errors: https://carm.org/problems-with-the-book-mormon

He translated the Bible inaccurately: https://carm.org/the-joseph-smith-translation-and-his-prophethood

He boasted about being better than Jesus: “I have more to boast of than ever any man had. I am the only man that has ever been able to keep a whole church together since the days of Adam. A large majority of the whole have stood by me. Neither Paul, John, Peter, nor Jesus ever did it. I boast that no man ever did such a work as I. The followers of Jesus ran away from Him; but the Latter-day Saints never ran away from me yet . . . ” (History of the Church, vol. 6, p. 408-409)

*For an Overview of Mormonism and other helpful info visit: https://carm.org/mormonism

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