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fierypen37 · 3 years

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Virtue a Veil, Vice a Mask Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Raquira was under way again. The sailors kicked the boarding bridges free, tossed the corsair corpses overboard and unfurled her sail to catch the strong eastward wind. The ship’s cook, who doubled as their healer, tended the wound to Jon’s leg under Daenerys’s sharp eye. The gash was jagged, but shallow—thank the gods. No need for suturing. On the edges of her hearing, she heard the cook grumble over the lost rum. She and Missandei had done enough to ensure their freedom and Daenerys didn’t feel a speck of misgiving over taking what they needed, yet perhaps she should offer to repay their purser. A problem that can wait.

The captain and crew milled about on deck, trying to set everything to rights.

“Where is your dagger, khaleesi?” Aggo asked. Daenerys wiped a smear of blood from his craggy cheek with the hem of her cloak. In answer, his black eyes warmed with tenderness. The wind buffeted them, and Daenerys wrestled with the cloak flapping around her.

“I stuck a corsair bent on capturing me near the stern,” she said. Though she had no skill with it, Jon’s wry advice rang in her inner ear: Stick ‘em with the pointy end. Aggo nodded.

“I will find it.”

“All the bodies were tossed overboard, milady,” the first mate said. Kovarro’s scowl turned murderous. He hauled the man close by handfuls of his tunic and shook him.

“Who took it? Who steals from the khaleesi?” he barked, his accent thickened in his ire. Aggo loosed his bloody whip from where it lay coiled around his chest. Daenerys laid a stalling hand on his arm.

“Peace, blood of my blood. There is no reason to think it was--” a thud. One of the sailors tossed the sheathed Valyrian steel dagger at her feet. The captain lumbered up hefting a heavy sack and laid it beside the dagger.

“Take this. It’s all our coin. A fair sum of gold,” he said.

“Ser, I cannot--” He held up a hand to stall her.

“Without you and your men, all of us would be dead or wearing slave’s collars by now. Take it. We will sell our cargo in Pentos and make a lean profit. We thank you.” Daenerys scanned the crowd of faces. Though nonplussed, none seemed to protest the offer their captain made in their stead. His words rang true. Without her and Missandei, the corsair ship would have chased them down. Without Grey Worm, Aggo, Kovarro, and Jon, more of them would have lost their lives.

Under the healer’s ministrations, Jon uttered a half-stifled grunt of pain. Daenerys hid her wince.

“You have our thanks, captain. My husband and I will retire now. I would appreciate some hot water to wash with, and food at your earliest convenience,” Daenerys said.

“As you say, milady,” the captain replied.

Once Jon was settled in their berth bed, Daenerys set to washing away the soot and seawater. An ewer of hot water, and a dish of her favorite lemon-scented soap from Pentos went a long way to restoring her composure. As she washed, the weight of Jon’s ink-dark eyes felt . . . odd. Worshipful, almost. Twined together in the throes of passion, she understood that impulse—she’d felt it too. Now it was unnerving. Her belly felt taut as a drum.

“What is it?” she asked, draping her clean, dripping hair over one shoulder to comb. Jon shrugged.

“Nothing.”

“No, what is it? Forgive me for not telling you about it earlier. I did not mean to cause you pain,” she said, focusing on the strokes of the comb. A delicate scrape on her scalp, through the heft of her wet hair, snagging on a tangle. A glance darted at Jon saw another casual shrug. He took a long draw from his waterskin.

“It’s all right. Have you . . . have you always been immune to fire?” he asked. Daenerys uttered a bark of mirthless laughter. Gods, how it must sound to him! In her heart, as the pyre burned, she knew no harm would come to her. Her sons needed her to be born.

“I don’t know. Looking back, I never remember burning myself cooking or the like. Bathwater was never too hot.” Jon’s dark eyes widened.

“You heard your dragons sing, and walked into the fire not knowing if you’d survive? You truly are a wonder.” Daenerys threw down the comb in frustration.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t?” Jon asked, frowning.

“Don’t look at me like that!” she snapped.

“Like what?” Jon said, matching her in sharpness and volume.

With a wince, he swung free from the bed and stood. Daenerys cursed and moved to help him.

“Jon, your leg--” he waved off her concern, instead pulling her close to him, rock-steady against the pitch of the sea beneath them. Gods, the strength of him, the woodsy smell of his skin. She was fast becoming addicted to it.

“It’ll keep. Now, what’s this about?” he asked more softly. Daenerys rested her forehead against his chest.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some goddess or blessed one.” She was mortal, fallible. She would fail him in some way, and what would be left of her once he moved on?

“But you are, or as close as any mortal woman can be. You walk through fire unharmed. You wake dragons from stone. How can I not look at you and think you’re a goddess? A myth from the Age of Heroes at the very least?”

“Demoted from a goddess to a myth?” she teased. Jon laughed.

“Aye,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Jon, I can be vain and foolish and petty like anyone else. I just don’t want you to think--” Jon stoppered her words with a quick kiss on her lips.

“I know that, Dany. But that doesn’t make you any less miraculous to me. Now stop fretting and come kiss me,” he said. Daenerys grinned. It was so easy for him to cajole her out of a mood with a bit of humor. And kissing sounded wonderful.

“Very well, my dragon.”

The rest of the journey to Pentos was uneventful save for the fact that Jon’s stomach refused to calm. Bless him, he was only able to keep down dry bread, and that only half of the time. Between that and his injured leg, he was by turns clinging and snappish. Daenerys sat with him, telling him lighthearted tales of the places she’d seen. How the Sealord of Braavos had spilled his wine and stained his new tunic at the Titan’s roar at sunset. How the street performers danced in the streets of Myr. There she’d learned the deft cutpurse’s trade when she was no older than eight. Though the stories often educed his half-smile, half-grimace, his misery deepened as the journey wore on as the sailors fought an indifferent wind. Jon paced and growled around their cabin, cursing the ship, the waves, the crew, the food.

At the helmsman’s horn on the morning of the fifth day at sea, she sighted land. Jon limped to the prow, squinting into the sun.

“Land,” he said. His tone was caught somewhere between lust and hunger. He looked thinner, his face drawn and wan. Dark circles cupped his eyes. Daenerys shared a worried look with Missandei. Her friend squeezed her arm in passing. Perhaps her Dothraki women could mix something for her new husband. It was midday by the time the ship docked and Kovarro led the horses off.

“Thank you for allowing our passage,” Jon said stiffly to the captain.

“Thank you, my prince and my silver lady. Enjoy Pentos,” he said. Jon and Daenerys walked arm in arm down the pier, staggering drunkenly as they shed their sea-legs.

“Land, thank the gods! There were times I thought that voyage would never end. I could kiss the ground,” Jon said. Daenerys eyed the grey timber pier spattered with gull droppings and furred with lichen.

“I wouldn’t,” she said. Jon snorted in reluctant amusement. Already, his color looked better. They found Kovarro, Aggo, Grey Worm and Missandei with the horses at a cookstall. Kovarro peeled morsels of fried meat off a stick with his teeth.

“Here, Jon of the Dragon Tent. Dormouse. Very good!” he said, grease shining on his mustache. Daenerys watched Jon’s jaw flex, sweat popped on his brow. He stalked away toward the pier to retch into the swampy shallows. Her own stomach lurched in sympathy.

“Milk men,” Aggo muttered, crunching on his own morsel. Daenerys reprimanded him in Dothraki. Her gaze followed the flex of his shoulders as he retched. Wiping his mouth on his cuff, he approached them. A stormcloud had a gentler look than Jon.

“Jon--” she said.

“Leave me be,” he snarled. Daenerys shared a bewildered look with her group.

“Come now! We must find Rakharo,” she said briskly, swinging astride Ciri. Jon climbed astride his bay, adjusting his sword at his hip. Still wearing his scowl, his silence tasted like hoarfrost. Daenerys exhaled a frustrated breath, trying to master her irritation. Was it a Stark trait to be so mercurial?

Riding two-by-two, they meandered through the busy markets of Pentos. Larger than the same sort she had seen in King’s Landing. The world seemed broader and more vivid in Pentos. Criers boasted of their wares in half a dozen languages. The air was alive with spices and cooking oil, perfumes and dung. Here were rich Myrish textiles, there the reek of Ibbenese tar. As they passed a gated manse, there was the tang of Yi Tish saffron in the air. Palanquins carried by servants stoppered surging foot traffic. Jon nudged his bay even with Ciri.

“I thought there were no slaves in Pentos,” he said in a low voice. Oh, have you calmed, Husband? She bit down the words. No use to quarrel in the midst of the city.

“There are ways of bending the law, if you’re rich enough. Some servants are slaves in all but name,” Daenerys said. The thought made her feel ill. Through her childhood, she’d seen their plight and loathed it.

“It is the same amongst the smallfolk home. It is a shameful thing,” Jon said. Daenerys’ eye fell to a woman trailing after her mistress, arms laden with packages while yolked to two large water pails. The careworn face. The downcast eyes. Nausea roiled in her belly.

“Yes, it is,” Daenerys said softly. The image of her collar lingered long after the slave disappeared from sight.

The Dothraki would shelter in manses when it suited them, but they preferred the cloth and leather tents of their fathers beneath an open sky. Dragons too, did not do well cooped up in stone walls. Thus, their camp sprawled on the bluffs on the outskirts of Pentos, just as she’d left it. So much had changed in little more than a sennight. They arrived, dusty, thirsty, and unkempt in the heat of mid-afternoon. Daenerys urged Ciri into her liquid-smooth canter as the summited the bluff. She stood in the stirrups and shouted: “Drogon! Tessarion! Vyrmax!”

The bond between them was young, fragile like a dandelion bloom. But through it, she felt such joy. They had missed her. Tears pricked her eyes. Her loves. Her sweet sons.

“Look, Jon!” she said, swinging down from Ciri. In the deep blue of the cloudless sky to the north, she saw them. At this distance, they could have been mistaken for birds.

“There, you see? Drogon is in the center. Black as midnight,” she said to Jon, watching his face. Though stoic in the fashion of his mother’s people, Jon’s ink-dark eyes were as wide as a child’s.

“Tessarion is aloof, a hunter. See his bronze?” As he rolled in the air, the bronze streaks of his chest scales flashed in the sun.

“And to the left, Vyrmax. My youngest and the swiftest. White as snow.” White and gold. The colors of snow and sunrise. Mayhap he and Jon would be a good match. Their music filled the air, shrieks and clicks. Too small a sound to be roars, just yet. But fierce and valiant. From the tail of her eye, she saw her people gather in a ring around them.

“They’re beautiful. Gorgeous beasts,” Jon said softly.

Closer now. Gods, they’d grown! Daenerys braced herself, used to her children’s rambunctious greetings. The three of them flared their wings at the last instant. Drogon struck her chest, Tessarion and Vyrmax either shoulder. Her feet knocked from under her, Daenerys wheezed out a breathless laugh. Her sons had never gotten the knack for landing on her gently. It was a confusing tangle of wings and limbs. Each of them butted her face, clamoring for attention. Daenerys laughed, petting their warm scales.

“Peace, peace my loves! Settle. Settle, now,” she said sternly. Drogon nibbled her first finger, Vyrmax climbed on her shoulder and burrowed under her braid, Tessarion nestled in the crook of her elbow. Jon tentatively offered a hand to help her up. Drogon growled, black smoke curling from his slitted nostrils.

“Hush, darling,” Daenerys said, accepting the proffered hand, “my children, this is Jon. My husband.” She looked into Drogon’s amber-red eyes, then Tessarion’s bronze ones, and then Vyrmax’s citrine-gold. Through the bond, she unfurled her feelings for Jon: love and joy and fear and welcome and worry. Her dragons watched her husband. To his credit, Jon bore their scrutiny well, calm and focused. Not even her bloodriders could boast that. Vyrmax broke the moment by slithering down her leg to sniff at Jon’s boot. Tessarion followed suit, while Drogon was content at his usual place on her right shoulder.

“Husband, khaleesi? Is this so?” Rakharo asked, eyebrows raised so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. Whispers rippled through the gathering. Hard black eyes scrutinized Jon. Another thing he bore well. No doubt he had been bearing up under harsher scrutiny since he was born, due to the circumstances of his birth.

“It is,” Jon said, “wed in King’s Landing some sennight ago.” Though his attention was fixed on her dragons, Daenerys could hear the steel in his tone. Vyrmax tilted his head this way and that, clicking in a friendly dragon greeting to Jon. The wonder hadn’t left Jon’s eyes and he squatted down to offer his flattened palm. Vyrmax hissed and scurried back to cling to her leg.

“Irri, Jhiqui could we have baths drawn? I would like to wash off the memory of the poison water,” Daenerys said. Her handmaidens giggled and did as they were bid. Later, after rest and refreshment, she and Jon would join her people. They would see him as she did: brave and strong, kind and trustworthy.

“As you say, khaleesi. I am eager to hear tales of the Sunset Lands,” Rakharo said, “I’ll leave you to your rest.”

Daenerys ducked under the lintel and waited for Jon to follow. She looked about the tent, trying to see it through his eyes. The interior was cool and dim. A section of either end was raised partway to allow in any breeze. Woven grass mats covered the floor with cushions scattered here and there. Her bed was a heap of sleeping furs with a few plump embroidered pillows. At the foot of the bed was a battered chest that held Daenerys’ clothing and possessions. Sitting atop it were two candles on either side of a clay bowl. In it were the shards of her children’s eggs, gleaming like jewels in the light. An oil lamp hung suspended from the central pole, casting wavering light in spangled shapes. Blue threads of incense burned, filling the room with the scent of wildflowers. Not a palace or a castle, but clean and comfortable. Home.

Her dragons flapped to settle on the rug, snapping and pawing at each other. Jon set down his pack, the whole of his worldly belongings was even less than hers. A prince scratching out a place to sleep in the dirt. Anxiety wound her belly taut. Was it too wild, too rash a choice? Chewing on her lip, Daenerys took a moment to furtively admire him. Even sweating, with dusty boots and trousers, Jon was more handsome than any man had a right to be. The hard neat lines of him. That lovely wild hair, his stormy eyes, his square jaw and full lips. His curls disliked the more humid air of Essos and lay in a riotous tangle around his face. Perspiration gleamed on his skin. He rubbed his mouth, eyes wandering over his surroundings. Tessarion climbed up to his niche. Vyrmax nipped at Drogon’s tail. Drogon snarled at his brother, bursting into flight. His wing knocked the oil lamp. It jangled in protest.

“Drogon, zohhe!” {Down!} Daenerys said sharply. Drogon settled on her shoulder, butting her chin with his head.

“Don’t fight with your brother,” she said in Dothraki, setting him in his niche. Vyrmax, not one to be left out, picked his way up her leg. She kissed his frilled head and set him in the nest of straw.

Jhiqui ducked through the leather partition with a whisper of sandsilk.

“Your meal, khaleesi,” she said, setting the tray down on the low table along with a clay carafe. Steam floated up in white tendrils along with a tantalizing savory aroma. Daenerys’ mouth filled with water. It had been much too long since the stale biscuits on the ship. Skewers of goat meat roasted in garlic and black pepper, spiced goat cheese, round loaves of brown bread speckled with seeds and—

“Lemon cakes?” Daenerys asked, delighted. Jhiqui’s smile was broad.

“Yes, khaleesi. I tell the cooks to make your favorites for your return.”

“You spoil me,” Daenerys said, kissing her cheeks. Jhiqui shrugged, uncomfortable with thanks as most Dothraki were. Another thing Daenerys planned to change.

“Irri draws your bath, yours and . . . and the khal’s,” she said with a wary glance towards Jon.

“My thanks,” Jon said with a nod. Dothraki followed strength, her strength in walking through the flames and birthing her dragons. Jon had proven his valor in fighting the corsairs on the ship, but some of her khalasar might cling to stubbornness. Jhiqui took her leave. Daenerys knelt and settled on a cushion at the table, pouring two horn cups of water.

“Are you well enough to eat, Jon?”

“Aye. It smells delicious. I think I could eat a whole side of beef myself,” he said with his half-smile, half-grimace. Daenerys giggled.

“Perhaps I could teach you Valyrian. To speak to your dragons.” Daenerys nodded, covering his hand with hers. Jon twisted his wrist to hold her hand.

“I would love that, thank you,” she said. He shrugged, as uncomfortable with attention as her Dothraki.

“You are a daughter of Valyria as well.” She made a mental note to speak with her bloodriders on fitting Jon with Dothraki clothing. Sandsilk and rider’s trousers breathed easier than Westerosi leathers. They slaked their thirst and sated their hunger with alacrity. The two of them shared a plate, teasing morsels from the skewers, tearing bread to scoop up the cheese. Jon offered her a bite and she nibbled delicately from his hand, ‘accidentally’ tracing her tongue over his knuckle. Jon’s lips parted, eyes dark and longing.

“Dany,” he whispered, “forgive me. I’ve been . . . boorish.”

“You’ve been ill. Ill and injured--”

“That’s no excuse for snapping at you like a jackal,” he said. Daenerys uttered a rueful laugh.

“You’re forgiven, Jon. It has been a tumultuous wedding week, hmm?” Jon gave her a solemn nod.

“Though . . . I could use some tending,” he said.

Daenerys moved to rise.

“Do you need a healer? Jon, you should have said something--”

Jon grasped her wrist and tugged her down for a slow, drugging kiss. Mm, oh yes. Arousal unfurled, hot and sweet. Daenerys bit her lip.

“Would the khaleesi tend me?” he whispered, turning his attention to her hand. He pressed hot kisses on the tender skin of her wrist, her palm, her thumb. Daenerys shivered.

“Gods, Jon. Yes.”

Jon pulled her to her feet, seizing her mouth. Daenerys whimpered. His kisses melted and inflamed her. She lost herself in the sweet duel of hungry lips and tongues, twining her arms around his neck. Her fingers sank into fistfuls of the thick hair at his nape. Gods, he filled her senses. He smelled of sweat and leather and male. He tasted of salt and the lingering tang of meat. Warm, rough hands smoothed over her body, tugging and insistent at the laces of her trousers. He slid a hand down to caress her, gentle fingers fluttered along her inner seam. He found her wet, already greedy for him. Daenerys squirmed, straining her tiptoes as he circled her pearl. The pleasure was sweet. So achingly sweet. It made her throb and thrash in his grip.

“Fuck, Dany,” he panted, tracing his tongue over the shell of her ear. As she peeled off his jerkin, his pale skin gleamed in the low light. They parted only to pull off their boots and shuck off their trousers. Jon made a sound very much like a growl, seizing her bodily. Daenerys hummed in approval, notching her arms and legs around him. A loud hiss broke the haze. Three pairs of eyes watched them. Amber-red, bronze, and gold.

“Will they eat me, do you think? For touching their mother?” Jon said, gently biting her bare shoulder.

“Hmm, depends on how well you treat me,” she teased. Jon chuckled, kissing the underside of her chin. Daenerys gripped his hair, moving his head so she could kiss him. Yes, so good. Daenerys sucked on his tongue. Ground her hips against the hot throb of his cock trapped against her mound, weeping silky fluid. They fell back onto her bed of furs. The musty smell and sleek texture felt sumptuous on her bare skin. Jon ground his hips into the cradle of hers. Daenerys tightened her thighs and twisted, rolling Jon beneath her. Jon craned his neck to kiss and suck on her nipples. The pleasure was sharper, hotter. The pressure of his thick cock against her—oh gods. The crest swept her up.

“Yes,” he hissed. Jon twisted her beneath him and slid inside her. Daenerys gasped. Jon cradled her head, watching her face, her eyes as he thrust.

“Daenerys. My wonder, my wife, my love,” Jon whispered against her lips. Daenerys scraped the thick flexing muscles of his back, his buttocks, spurring him on. Jon rose up on his hands, thrusting deeper, faster. Tendons stood out on his neck.

“Dany, I’m—oh gods!” he said, throwing his head back as he spilled inside her. Gods, she loved it when he let go. His pleasure brought on hers. A glorious clenching euphoria. In the sweat-slick aftermath, Daenerys kissed his neck, petting his hair. They drowsed in silence for a while. A faint clap outside.

“Your bath, khaleesi. When you’re ready,” Jhiqui’s voice floated in from outside. Jon cursed and rolled off of her. Wild-eyed, he clutched one of her furs. Daenerys laughed.

“Do you think they heard us?” Jon asked. Her mighty, brooding husband was blushing!

“Of course they did. The Dothraki think me prudish for needing walls at all. It is sacred in their culture to couple beneath an open sky.” Daenerys drew him down for a lingering kiss.

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll guard your virtue.”

#jonerys fanfiction #fp37fic #virtue a veil #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #fanfic

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mememanufactorum · 4 years

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Halo 2 quote starters

* FEEL FREE TO SHARE AS YOU PLEASE, NO CREDIT NEEDED. CHANGE PRONOUNS OR ANYTHING ELSE AS DESIRED.

-The Heretic-

“This has gone on long enough. Make an example of this bungler.”

“The weight of your heresy will stay your feet, and you shall be left behind.”

“You know how expensive this gear is?”

-The Armory-

“Hey, take it easy!”

“Careful, you’ll pull a tendon doing that!”

“Fine, but don’t come cryin’ to me when you rip your leg out of its socket.”

“This is important. You should at least look at me when I’m explaining it.”

“Look, just ‘cause the brass kisses your ass don’t mean I will.”

“Look at me when I talk to you.”

“Are you listenin’ to me?”

“Would it help if I said please?”

“When are you gonna tell me how you made it back home in one piece?”

“Well, he’s in a particularly fine mood.”

“Nobody’s sayin’ much, but I think something big’s about to happen.”

-Cairo Station-

“You told me there wouldn’t be any cameras.”

“You told me you were gonna wear something nice.”

“Folks need heroes, to give ‘em hope. So, smile, would ya? While we still got something to smile about.”

“You’ve drawn quite a crowd.”

“If they came to hear me beg, they will be disappointed.”

“We’re lucky to have you back.”

“I’m sorry, but we’re gonna have to make this quick.”

“You look nice.”

“I need a weapon.”

“Check your targets and watch the crossfire.”

“They’re in standard formation: Little bastards up front, big ones in back.”

“As soon as that door opens, let ‘em have it!”

“I don’t believe it! They’re retreating! We won!”

“This is bad! Real bad!”

“Just a friendly reminder: Bomb.”

“If this thing goes off, I am NEVER talking to you again.”

“Tell your friends I got enough ammo for all of ya!”

“Come on, is that a weapon or a flashlight?”

“How much time was left?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s crazy.”

“So, stay here.”

“Unfortunately for us both, I like crazy.”

“Just one question… What if you miss?”

“For a brick, he flew pretty good!”

-Outskirts-

“Any idea what it means?”

“Hey. Wake up.”

“Talk to me. Should I start CPR? What’s going on?”

“Blink if you can hear me.”

“If they didn’t know we’re here before, they do now!”

“Oh man, I love the beach.”

“I hope you packed a suit.”

“I don’t think they expected us to be here.”

-Metropolis-

“It blew right through us!”

“You had your chance to be afraid before you joined my beloved Corps. But to guide you back to the true path, I have brought this motivational device.”

“When I joined the Corps, we didn’t have any fancy-schmancy tanks! We had sticks! Two sticks and a rock! And we had to share the rock!”

“Usually the good Lord works in mysterious ways. But not today!”

“If God is Love, then you can call me Cupid!”

“They’re tough, but they ain’t invincible.”

“He never gets me anything.”

“Oh, I know what the ladies like.”

“That’s quite a welcome party.”

“Who’s in charge now?”

“See this look?! It’s terror!”

“Did I give you permission to bitch?!”

“I don’t think it’s stopping, get your heads down!”

“That thing is really starting to PISS ME OFF!”

“It can’t go any further this way. We have it trapped.”

“That’s right, you mothers! Run!”

-The Arbiter-

“How much further must we heft this baggage? Any cell will do.”

“Why not toss him in with this lot? They could use the meat.”

“Ultimately, the terms of your execution are up to me.”

“I am already dead.”

“Do you know where we are?”

“Even on my knees, I do not belong in their presence.”

“They would use the faith of our forefathers to bring ruin to us all!”

“What use am I?”

“That armor suits you, but it cannot hide that mark.”

“Their lives matter to me. Yours does not.”

“Warriors, prepare for combat!”

“Be silent and swift, and we shall quell this heresy without incident.”

“We have the element of surprise… For now.”

“That was the last of them – but there are more ahead.”

-The Oracle-

“That stench… I’ve smelled it before.”

“Close your jaw or I shall bind it shut!”

“Come out so we may kill you.”

“We should have brought weapons to burn these bodies.”

“We’ll never break through this!”

“May our Lords guide you.”

“We shall not forget your sacrifice.”

“Keep your blade handy.”

“Take my blade.”

“Turn, heretic.”

“Who has taught you these lies?”

“More questions? Splendid! I would be happy to assist you.”

“Unfortunate. His edification was most enjoyable.”

“Why do you meddlers insist on using such inaccurate verbiage?”

-Delta Halo-

“I don’t care if I have the clearance or not.”

“Where’s our target?”

“Until I can move and fight, I’m going to keep a low profile.”

“Hang onto your helmet!”

“Mind the bump.”

“Could we possibly make any more noise?! ...I guess so.”

“If I were a megalomaniac – and I’m not – that’s where I’d be.”

“I heard that, jackass!”

“Transcendence, huh? More like mass suicide.”

“You always bring me to such nice places.”

“They don’t seem to consider us a very serious threat. Boy, are they in for a big surprise.”

-Regret-

“Wait, go back!”

“I’d need to make a thorough survey to be sure.”

“I wish I had more time to decipher these inscriptions.”

“Well, they were nice enough to bring us a ride.”

“Sorry, were you trying to kill something?”

“And people say I’ve got a big head.”

“Oh man, he’s SO dead.”

“Oh, great! We’re gonna ride another one of these death traps!”

“Man, look at the size of that thing!”

“Guards! Remove this vermin from my sight!”

“You dare to interrupt my sermon?!”

“Surely you can do better than that?”

“Perhaps you underestimated me, no?”

“This is not your grave… But you are welcome in it.”

-Sacred Icon-

“This is unprecedented… Unacceptable!”

“Are you questioning my decision?”

“Politics… How tiresome.”

“We have always been your protectors.”

“These are trying times for all of us.”

“Why? Looking for a little payback?”

“Let’s see if you fare better.”

“Stay in the shadows, wait until it loses interest, then strike the beast when its back is turned.”

“We must hold this camp until reinforcements arrive.”

-Quarantine Zone-

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Forward, warriors, and fear not pain nor death!”

“No matter, they will die all the same.”

“Steel your nerves, we’re not turning back.”

“I grow restless without a target.”

“Ignore the braggart. Ready yourselves.”

“That fool! He’ll alert them to our presence!”

“Look on the bright side, if we’re lucky, they’ll shoot him down.”

“You know, your father never asked me for help either.”

“We got trouble.”

“How you doin’?”

“A bloody fate awaits you and the rest of your incompetent race.”

-Gravemind-

“What… Is that?”

“I am a monument to all your sins.”

“Relax. I’d rather not piss this thing off.”

“Kill me or release me. But do not waste my time with talk!”

“There is much talk, and I have listened through rock and metal and time. Now I shall talk, and you shall listen.”

“We have much to do!”

“You know nothing about containment! You have demonstrated a complete disregard for even the most basic of protocols!”

“If you will not hear the truth, then I shall show it to you.”

“They’re beefing up their patrols. Stay sharp.”

“The path is broad, and we shall walk it side by side.”

“Be glad! A reward for all your toil and all your sacrifices in the year at hand.”

“There are those who said this day would never come. What have they to say now?”

“Look on the bright side: For now, they seem much more interested in killing each other.”

-Uprising-

“Let’s just throw them over the edge.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“So, you’ve come to save your friends!”

“They have shed our brothers’ blood… And for that, they must die.”

“So much for a stealthy advance.”

“Bah! Over so soon?”

“Long have I waited for this!”

“...And yet I live.”

“What vulgar taste. Even as trophies, these weapons are useless.”

-High Charity-

“Your pal. Where’s he going?”

“Not a very original plan, but we know it’ll work.”

“No enemy has ever withstood our might.”

“Arrogant creature. Your death will be instantaneous, while we shall suffer the progress of infinitude!”

“We exist together now… Two corpses in one grave.”

“This crisis will not be the end of us.”

“If you will falter, know this… One final effort is all that remains.”

“I can’t go with you.”

“Don’t make a girl a promise… If you know you can’t keep it.”

-The Great Journey-

“I know a way to break those doors.”

“A day’s rations says I can do this in one cut.”

“You don’t like me, and I sure as hell don’t like you.”

“I just happen to have a key.”

“Hey, bastards! Knock knock!”

“Ha, ha, that’s real funny. I’m still shootin’.”

“What, do I have to spell it out for you? MOVE!”

“Are you trying to get killed? Gimmie some room!”

“Not another word!”

“If you want to keep your brain inside your head, I’ll tell your boys to chill.”

“Go ahead, do your thing.”

“You want revenge? Well, here I am. Come and take it.”

“Just like the rest of your race, cowardly and weak.”

“A lucky hit. You shall not land another.”

“Silence fills the empty grave now that I have gone.”

“My mind is not at rest, for questions linger on. I will ask, and you will answer.”

#Halo 2 #Halo #roleplay meme #roleplay prompt #rp meme #rp prompt

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classlesstulip · 4 years

Text

So, You Called for a Handyman?

(A little medly of a day in the life of a ‘handyman’ in the mob. One who doesn’t really take his job too seriously.)

“*che,* a tall and shadowed figure snorted as he flicked the long blade he held. The wet, viscous sound of blood flying through the air and splattering onto concrete was heard, the whistle of metal short but sharp.

Tiberius looked around the room he was in, sharp ears pricked, listening for any of the tell-tale sounds of life: breathing, twitches, the shuddering gasps one gives when in great pain. He was only satisfied when he heard nothing from the collection of bodies spilled around him.

'There’s a group of Mick’s boys over on 8th and North. Go and fix them.’

Heh, they’re fixed now, alright, Ty thought. Now he just needs to call in Lenore for disposal; he needs to pass over that new fertilizer recipe he’s got, using these mooks may be just what her flowers need.

*****

Storing his machete in one of the many caches secreted in Sepulveda territory, Ty swapped out his fingerless leather gloves for a new set. A quick check showed that even after all these years he’s still got it; not even one drop of blood on his 3-piece.

If even ONE of those mooks had spilled on his Armani, he would have rioted. This suite was a gift!

His internal rant was cut off when his phone chirped. Pulling it out of an inner pocket, he saw a new text from Little Cruzi: seem’s their Apa is done putting up with Jericho. Needs to have the jackass fixed. And-, oh!

'Apa says make it messy. The wetter the better.’

Ty can do that. He’s pretty good at getting things wet.

Oh, that was a good one! He’ll have to try that one on Val; the poor dear’s been wound up tighter than a spring the last few weeks. A good laugh followed by a good fuck should fix that.

*****

"Hey, Ty? Boss has a new stop for ya!”

What the fuck? Seriously!? "Uh, Amber? Ya can see I’m currently up to my elbows right now, yeah!?“ The wet squelch and Ty’s grunt as he pulled on Jericho’s lungs rung through the warehouse. It was dark and dusty; the perfect backdrop for a Splash-n-Dash.

Currently, Ty was bent over a stack of pallets, the beaten corpse of Jericho splayed across them. Scattered on the walls and floors around them were gouges and bullet marks, with streaks of blood interspersed, belying that a scuffle had taken place, the loser of which had his chest cracked open and Ty cleaning the innards like he was preparing a chicken to get roasted over open coals.

The driver held up their arms, shrugging. "Hey man, I’m just the messenger. Turns out, Jericho was fucking with not just the Sepulveda’s, but the Alnazar’s AND Satrinava’s.” Amber looked a little green at the sound of flesh and ligaments ripping as Ty finished his impromptu vivisection. He went even more green when Ty overhand-hurled his double-handful of offal at one of the far walls with a loud 'YEET!’, the wet splat and fanning of blood from the impact causing Amber to jump back with a heave. “Dude, what the fuck!?” The thick gurgle he swallowed back after his outburst showed just how DONE he was with Ty’s nastiness.

“Hey, Val says wet and messy, I deliver wet an’ messy! Now keep your pants on and drag over my duffle. My shirt is ruined.”

Keeping an eye on a blood-soaked Tiberius, Amber did as bid. It took him a few minutes to locate said bag, during which Ty lit-up a cig.

“Move it, cupcake.”

“Alright, alright, jeez. Go fuck yourself, asshole.”

“I HEARD THAT!”

*****

“Alrighty then,” Ty propped his feet up on the desk in front of him, ignoring the glare Asra shot him. “So, we gots a case of ol’ Jerry boy putting his fingers into too many pies, both literal, figurative, and colloquially. Drugs, rent girls, and laundering, right?” He pulled in a big drag from his cigar, having lighted up the moment he entered Fluff'n'Stuff’s digs.

With a grunt, Asra pushed the big booted feet off of his NICE mahogany desk. Getting a few smoke-rings blown at him in retribution, he glared at the 'handyman’ sitting across from him, but knew any more fussing on his end would be futile; the only reason Asra isn’t currently a smear on the wall is that Ty thinks he’s adorable AND they go way back.

That and Val and Asra once had a Thing, but that’s none of his business.

“Yes,” leaning back, Asra pulled out a thick manila file folder and dropped it onto his desk. The poor thing was only kept together by a single rubber band, and Ty’s surprised it hasn’t snapped already. “These are the places that Jericho’s Number Two and Three have holed up. Taking these two out will cause the whole operation to fall apart.”

As Asra was speaking, Ty secured his cigar between his molars, propping his jaw open as his fingers started pulling apart the file. Flipping through the first few cover papers, he soon got to the meat and potatoes of the lot. “As you can see, Vinny is in the heart of the Garment District…” Ty stopped paying attention as he looked through everything, Asra’s voice becoming a low, soothing drone. He leaned back in his chair, holding up a few A4-sized photos.

“Now, Illian was able to-” Asra was cut off at a loud, 'interested’ hum from Tiberius. Seconds later, the handyman turned the papers in his hand’s landscape, and a few sheets accordioned down. A slightly lewd chuckle floated up from behind the papers before Asra snatched at them, Ty letting out a disappointed 'awww’ at the loss of his smut.

“A-HEM!” Crinkling the purloined pornography in his fist, Asra pinned Ty with A Look. “This is no time to be looking at, at, uh,” he peeped at the rag, “PLAYBOY!”

“Azzy? That was IN the file. I had nothing to do wi-”

“REGARDLESS,” tossing the magazine at his wastebin (and making a mental note to speak to his son about leaving his 'reading material’ out and about), Asra huffed. “Just, get out of here and fix 'em. Oh, and…”, rifling through his desk, he pulled out a box. He pushed it across his table, a curious Ty picking it up gingerly, “wear this. We need proof of the job, to be a warning.”

“A body cam? Shit son, y'all mean business.” Snorting, Ty threw himself out of his chair, tossing the little box in the air before catching it and slipping it into his suitcoat pocket. “Got it. The usual fee to the usual account. Give hugs and kisses to yer fam for me, yeah?”

*****

Walking down a softly carpeted hall, a slight shadow was seen. Soft curls were piled atop their head, and one hand held a glass of wine while the other pulled their robe tighter. Light filtered through shuttered blinds, car head beams and static lamps fighting the darkness of night. Occasionally, the honk of a horn or the revving of an engine sounded out, despite being muffled by layers of brick and insulation.

Sipping their wine, they stopped just outside a cracked door. Peeping in, a soft smile curled their lips as they spied one of their little ones (though, being nearly twenty, they are fairly certain that Sol would object to such an endearment). Seeing them softly snoring away, the door was pulled shut. Checking on their other child, Cruz, showed the same result.

Once satisfied that their children (grown though they may be) were tucked away safely snoozing, Val continued down the hall. A few twists and turns later and they were in their office. Opulently decorated with heavy dark wood pieces and bold colors, it was quite a large and stately room. Near the far wall was their desk, and on the blotter was a thumb drive.

Knowing that it must have been left by Tiberius, Val plucked it up. Wandering towards the entertainment center, they plugged in the drive, turned on the screen, and got comfortable on the couch, sipping more wine as they navigated menus with the remote.

“Hey, is this thing on?” The sound of someone tapping a mic was heard before the picture abruptly turned on. A large brown eye was center stage, the corners crinkling briefly before the cam was pulled back, revealing the familiar face of Tiberius. “Alrighty, then! So, the usual drivel: Tiberius working on behalf of Don Valentino of the Sepulveda Family, yadda yadda yadda,” Ty’s eyes rolled, and his body moved like he was waving his hand. “Here to fuck some shit up and make a statement. So here’s,” he tapped the screen, “the mutherfuckin’,” more taps, “TEA,” a final tap. “Vinny’s been baaaaaaaad. Not only,” Ty brandished a finger, waving it around his head like a conductor, “has this bonafide dickfuck fuckface been doin’ Jerry’s dirty work, but this FUCKER has also been bringing in kids. KIDS I TELL YA! Now c'mon, Vinny, baby, ya don’t bring kids into your prostitution ring! Fucker! So, time to clean house! And Val?” Ty winked at the camera, “I’ll have a nice little pressie for ya when you finish this!”

Some fumbling and cursing later, and Val had a chest-high view of whatever was in front of Ty. Currently, it was the door to what may be a warehouse. The video jumped up and down a few times, and the cocking of a gun was heard. Something very familiar was playing in the background, and it came to a hard beat as Ty kicked in the door-

“Some-BODY ONCE TOLD ME,” duel-wielding, Ty buried a bullet into the head and gut of the bouncer standing guard as the kicked-in door bounced off of the wall. “THE WORLD WAS GONNA ROLL ME,” two steps down the hallway. “I AIN’T THE SMARTEST TOOL IN THE SHED,” one guy burst out of a room and got pistol-whipped for his stupidity, getting a few slugs to the back as he fell.

Hopping over the new body, Ty continued his song. “SHE WAS LOOKIN’ KINDA DUMB WITH HER FINGER AND HER THUMB,” this time, he peeped around a doorway into a room, squeaking out a startled 'Errol!?’ as a knife buried itself into the wall behind him. A feminine voice started spewing curses as he backpedaled, hands still clutching Glocks up in the air. “Aight, aight, I got it! Sheesh!” Huffing, he continued his journey down the hall, bellowing an 'IN THE SHAPE OF AN L ON 'ER FOREHEAD!’ behind him as he went.

Now Val wants to know what she was doing there. Did Jericho piss off Lucio, as well? They jumped as Ty continued his bit of Musical Mayhem.

“WELLLLLLLLL THE YEARS START COMIN’ AND THEY DON’T STOP COMING!” At some point, the handyman had swapped out his handguns for a combat shotgun, opening up rounds into the chests of three forgettable thugs in beat to the last three words of his stanza. “FED TO THE RULES AND I HIT THE GROUND RUNNIN’!” Coming to the end of the hall, Ty blasted through the door, revealing the large, empty space typical to warehouses was replaced with a sort of hotel-like setup. An open-air lobby, with staircases spiraling up, leading to floors with open walkways. It looked like someone tried to recreate the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria, but it just went up and up, with each floor being closer to a balcony than a full floor. All of the open space allowed for the panicked cries and screams of the brothel inhabitants to echo in upon themselves.

There were also a LOT of fine rugs, marble, and gilt furniture. How long has this operation been going on, and how did fucking JERICHO of all people get this set-up on the DL?

“DIDN’T MAKE SENSE NOT TO LIVE FOR FUN,” *boom!**boom!**boom!*; a rapid release of shots into a group of mobsters as they tried to rush Tiberius, giving Val a front-row seat to the amount of kick a combat-class shotgun has as one man went flying, streamers of blood shooting from the stump that used to hold his head. “YOUR BRAIN GETS SMART BUT YER HEAD GETS DUMB! HAHA, FUCKER!” Ty’s voice was starting to get difficult to hear over the amount of sheer NOISE in the background.

“SO MUCH TO DO!” *blam!* “SO MUCH TO SEE!” *blamblam!* “SO WHAT’S WRONG WITH TAKIN’ THE BACKSTREETS!?” The bodycam started shaking at Ty charged over to a staircase, plowing shoulder-first into a group of people storming down it while waving their guns. The picture blacked out and the muffled scratch of fabric rubbing over the built-in mic took up a few seconds of footage before a bright light cut through. Val had to squint their own eyes, and everything came back into focus just in time to see Ty hurl a middle-aged, half-dressed wanna-be mafioso over one of the balcony floors, singing out 'YOU’LL NEVER KNOW! IF YOU DON’T GO!’ as the man plummeted. He landed with a rubbery thump.

“YOU’LL NEVER SHINE IF YOU DON’T GLOW,” more singing/screeching from Ty as he tossed a grenade down another balcony/hall. As it erupted, it covered the huddled gangsters in liquid fire. “HEY NOW! YOU’RE AN ALL-STAR! GET YOUR GAME ON! GO PLAYEEEEE! C'MON ASSHOLES! YOU WANTED TO BE A ROCKSTAR! HOW NOW! YOU’RE A ROCK STAR! GET THE SHOW ON! GET PAIIIIIIIIIIID! HA HAHAHAAA!”

Val made a quiet note to themselves that Ty, while very funny, can also be downright sinister.

“AND ALL THAT GLITTERS IS GO~OOOLLLLLLD!” And that Ty should also never attempt a falsetto that high ever. AGAIN.

“ONLY SHOOTING STAAAAAAAAAARS BREAK THE MO-OLLLLLLD!” Another flame-spewing grenade was thrown, this time hitting what looked to be a fire extinguisher. Seconds later, foam started jetting out of the damaged, high-pressure steel canister, turning what was once a life-saving device into a literal missile, which shot off and plowed into the chest of a woman in Jericho’s colors, launching her airborne before the canister exploded, spreading shrapnel and viscera into a mist.

Smothering their face with their hand, Val let out a disbelieving laugh as Ty continued to wreak unholy havoc on the hideout to the tune of an upbeat, mid-aughties pop-rock song. Knives were thrown, bullets buried in brains, and it all came to a crescendo as Ty unloaded a stereotypical tommy-gun down into a group of wannabe gangsters that had jimmied themselves into the lobby. The last note to the song was capped off with a tossed Molotov, the ring of shattering glass pairing well to the last guitar chord.

Chuckling in satisfaction, Val finished their wine before shutting off the television. Wandering out of their office, they refilled their wineglass before heading toward their bedroom. Humming in pleasure after taking a fresh sip of chilled wine, they gently opened their door, stopping in the doorway before raising a sculpted brow. “So,” they queried. “Is this my 'pressie’?”

It’s quite a nice present, Val thought. Tiberius was lounging on Val’s obscenely large bed, on his side and completely nude. If not for a strategically-placed pile of rose petals, the fit man would be putting on quite the show. As it was, Tiberius decided to take a page out of every cheesy romance novel/movie and had bedecked the bedroom in dozens of low-burning candles and scattered roses, capping-off the trope with a single rose clenched between pearly whites. It’s something the Valentino of twenty-some years ago would have swooned over.

Although, the Valentino of now is feeling quite swoon-y, now. "Heh,“ they chuckled as Ty wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I’ve got to say, this is a nice surprise, viejo amigo.” Quietly shutting the door behind them, they leaned against the slab of wood-encased steel and gave their 'present’ a heated stare. “What gives?”

“Eh, nothing much.” Pulling the rose out of his mouth, Ty tossed it aside with a flick of the wrist. “Just, ah, you wanted a job wet and messy, and I decided that you could use a little 'wet 'n messy’ yourself.”

Val barked out a laugh. “Oh, but that was horrible!” Wandering closer to the bed, they held out a hand, gently cupping a warm cheek. “What am I going to do with you- MERDA!”

Yanking Val towards him, Ty rolled them, stopping on his back with Val perched on top. “Well, first things first! Let’s fuck!”

*****

The room stunk of sex, and all of the candles had burned themselves out. Entwined under a thin sheet, a sticky but satiated couple cuddled. Bite marks and hickeys decorated soft skin, and Val laid with their head tucked under Ty’s chin, one set of fingers lazily tracing circles over the larger man’s lower back.

“So,” Val lazily purred. “Aside from the cam footage, did you learn anything else?”

Ty hummed. “You may want to speak to Head in the Clouds.”

“…about?”

A hoarse chuckle. “Seem’s someone’s son has a little crush on our Cruzi. A Playboy got mixed into my briefing file, and a VERY well-worn page had a model that looked startlingly like our bambino was on it.”

“…really?” Ty hissed as sharp nails dug into his back, relaxing when Val apologetically rubbed them. “I’ll need to set-up a meeting. But, that can wait until tomorrow.”

The last thing Ty thought as they both dropped off to sleep was that he was glad he didn’t let on that he’s pretty sure Lucky and Cruz have a thing.

But he’s not sorry for telling Cruz’s Apa. Serves the little brat right for shitting all over him as a baby and giving him heart attacks every week since they learned how to walk.

HA!

@agent-darkbootie @thraxbaby @lazyvoyager @magicianapprenticelyra @plaguedcount

#@agent-darkbootie #Mob!AU #valentino sepulveda #sol y cruz #tiberius principia #lenore #asra #illian #lucky #amber #the arcan AU #errol pyralis #short story #short ficlet

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webcricket · 5 years

Text

Looking Glass

Chapter 26 - The World Ender

Pairing: CastielXAU!Reader

Word Count: 1312

Summary: Castiel is left floundering when fate finally catches up to team free will in the form of a three-letter word. With some reflection, he learns endings are also beginnings. Final chapter for the series. Thanks for joining me on this journey! On to the next!

Miss a chapter? Masterlist Link:

webcricket.tumblr.com/post/175727716145/looking-glass-masterlist

What they say about hindsight is true; if you knew, caught up in Castiel’s arms in the kitchen, bodies drawn so close together room to breathe barely existed as you comforted one another in the aftermath of Maggie’s death, that the tender moment would signify the beginning of a rapid and calamitous downward spiral of misfortune to befall the bunker and your seraph, you might have insisted on holding on to him just a smidgen longer.

Not long ago, your world ended; your life too – nearly. Providence interceded in the form a Winchester ferrying you here to find renewal of hope; a place wherein you embarked on a fresh start rooted and flourishing in an angel’s empathy and a rewriting of every experience, conception, and recollection you once wielded as a universal shield of truth to survive.

You couldn’t know, clasped head to chest, sniffling against the silk of his tie, tears darkening the navy cloth almost to black as your fingers sought the well-muscled slope of his spine and skimmed upward until they found the sensitive spot at the base of his shoulder blades eliciting a soft moan from his lips where they lay in a lingering kiss upon your scalp, that your very same savior’s rebelliously carved niche in this one, the sanctuary of support he welcomed you into, a family fixed to each other by bonds – not solely of blood, but of self-made fate, fierce loyalty, and love – was about to be torn asunder.

Not that any mediation could have occurred to alter the outcome. Once a rift is opened, in flesh or between two divergent worlds, flow of blood seemingly staunched by a ripped band-aid of spell work, the canvas of unseen space is weakened forevermore; there’s no mending it without leaving scars.

Naive, deafened to words of reason by a smoldering rage and guilt, Jack needed to be led astray by Lucifier’s lies – a lesson of greed for power learned too late leaving the Nephilim cosmically impotent.

Nor can destiny itself be fully caged, although the details, like the plot of a story, may be altered in revision – a showdown of apocalyptic proportions between two sets of brothers was ordained by God to occur in Detroit, and so it did in the shadow of a church alter in darkness flattered faintly by the fragmented glow of stained-glass and violently unbridled grace.

And Dean, well, the righteous man was always going to say, “Yes,” to Michael; Fate deigned that archangels must be defeated by a designated sword, and she can be forestalled for only so long.

So much of who Castiel is, what he fell for, fought for, and believed in dwell on the foundation of free will. Sam and Dean served proof to him of one’s ability to defy fate and choose their own destiny time and time again. Emulating the brothers’ boldness, choosing humanity over Heaven, doubt dogged the angel’s every step; but through the doubt, the concept of having choice seemed certain to him until now.

Now, he wonders if Dean ever had a choice at all; or, if the march of years merely delayed the inevitable. The weight of death, destruction, pain – emotional and physical – the blood shed in the name of choice washed from his vessel’s hands yet nonetheless staining the calloused surface crimson as he stares down at where the palms limply spread in supplication on his knees, and the heavy regret muffling every beat of his angelic heart crumple the seraph’s frame where he sits on the map room stair.

“Cas?” The flutter of a black feather on the grey concrete floor at your feet, disturbed by your guardedly creeping movement around the corner, steals your focus as you peer into the library from the hall leading to the garage where you retreated with Mary and Bobby at Cas’ unyielding request when Michael stormed the bunker door.

Stooping, you pluck up the bedraggled plume in your fingertips; spying a bloodied mass of pulp at the end of the quill, you flinch and shrink back, fright tightening your throat. “Cas?” you repeat in a fear-stifled shout; glancing wildly beyond the strewn carnage of traumatically extricated feathers, books thrown from their shelves, and toppled tables and chairs, you see the angel’s silhouetted and unmoving figure slumped against the threshold. “Cas!” Lunging forward, tripping over a few stiff-spine tomes, you forget caution in favor of panic.

He stirs to look sideways as you near; stumbling down the stairs, you sink ungracefully next to him. You ignore the corpse of Michael’s meat suit in reclining repose against one of the far most pillars; it’s a sight that should be a relief, but nothing about Cas’ dampened blues and vacant gaze hollowed of hope remotely suggest a sense of relief; neither does the notable absence of the Dean.

The angel’s regard shifts slightly over your shoulder, chin somberly shaking at Mary and Bobby’s questioning faces where they followed in your frantic footsteps. You all half-hoped after Sam’s phone call saying he and Jack were alive, Lucifer was dead, and they couldn’t be sure of Dean because he disappeared with Michael, that perhaps against all odds Dean somehow returned to the bunker. The two hunters retreat in silence to give you space.

“What happened?” Reaching up, you brush a collection of unruly chestnut curls from Cas’ brow and compel his concentration to you.

Already pale lips crush into a taut line and blanch. Wet lashes lower and a subtle shiver of pain courses his vessel.

You mold a palm to the cool pallor of his cheek, swiping a thumb soothingly over the prickly skin.

He swallows the guilt girding his throat before speaking. “Dean said, ‘Yes.’ He let Michael in,” he pauses as if saying it aloud makes the reality infinitely more painful. Carrying blame for himself, his jaw tenses around an admission of defeat, “I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t-” Leaning into the warmth of your touch, eyes closing, his voice chokes in grief, “I couldn’t even follow him.”

You suddenly understand the scattering of feathers and disarray of a struggle; Castiel tried to follow his friend in flight – tried with his whole heart in defiance of the damage to his wings, and failed. “Oh, angel.” Curling your fingers around his neck, you ease his head onto the pillow of your thighs. “It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault,” you reassure, softly whispering as brine freely brims his lids.

“Everything we worked for,” he says between sobs, “it was all for nothing. It’s impossible to escape fate. Dean is lost. This world … it’s lost.”

Tenderly cradling the angel, showering him in light caresses so he knows he isn’t alone, you let his emotion drain, waiting until the jagged shallow jolt of his breath quiets with deeper regularity. Gaze drifting to the high ceiling of your new home, the angel you love lying on your lap, a reflective smile cavorts your countenance at a thought which undulates your tongue in speech. “I used to believe a lot of things were impossible – alternate realities, loving angels, second chances – then I met you and all that changed.”

Shifting at the curious statement, he straightens to peer into your aspect.

Smile stretching, you continue, “Nothing is impossible, it just seems that way until a door you didn’t know was there opens and you see what’s on the other side. We’ll find the right door, Cas.”

“You really believe that?” The question is moot, divine being or otherwise, he intuits your conviction without asking.

“You’re my proof.”

Gloom-dim irises glide searchingly between your fondly smile-creased eyes and the mirror image of himself reflected as evidence within their lustrous pupils. Seeing his echo afloat in a soulful sea of belief, leaning in to trace salt-laced lips over the smiling swell of yours, he can’t help but begin to believe too.

#castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel reader insert #spn x reader #castiel x y/n #castielxreader #castielxyou #cas x reader #cas x you #reader x castiel #you x castiel #castiel fanfic #castiel fanfiction #spn fanfic #castiel x au!reader #cricket writes cas

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funkypoacher · 6 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @evilbunnyking (thanks hun!! <3 ) tagging @sirladysketch (srry for tagging you constantly :P) @manicparadox @biggreenfeet and @redinkofshame. I really cant remember which of my ‘to-tag’ lists of people are writers/are actively writing. If you are writing but I didn’t tag you, tag me with your WIP and I’ll add you to my list!

I got... just... so much shit I really need to get done.

The Lunatic At Large (chapter one of Shenko series)

“Let’s just get to Mars first; follow through on what Hackett wants. Then we’ll see,” Kaidan advised pragmatically. He added, quietly, “can’t imagine planning three steps ahead is going to do any good in a war like this, anyways.”

Previously focusing on getting her greaves in order, Shepard stared. “Am I hearing Kaidan Alenko—Kaidan Alexis Alenko—suggesting anything other than a Plan B will save us?”

In response, he smiled almost bashfully.“No, no; not—not necessarily. I’m just saying we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. Count our chickens, and all that. We’ve got to trust that the brass knows what they’re doing.”

Shepard laughed loudly. “Sure! And maybe if they refuse to acknowledge the Reapers again, they’ll just go away. Say ‘sorry, pal’, pay the bill for damages, and hoof it back to deep space.” Her good humour fell away. “C’mon, Alenko. You can’t have forgotten what happened the last time the Alliance got wind of Reaper activity, can you? Actually”—and she knew bitterness was pointless, but she still hurt—“actually you could have forgotten, couldn’t you? In fact, you did forget, as I recall.”

Let’s Play (chapter three)

Carefully disrobing the paddy like a lover instead of imitation-beef served by hair-net toting vorchas, Shepard put it to her lips, inhaled deep, and took a large, slow chomp. Chewing, swallowing, she licked the corner of her mouth and sighed.

“Mmm. So good. I swear I haven’t sat down or eaten since I saved a certifiably fertile krogan female, thus basically curing the genophage. So it’s been a while.”

“Uh huh,” Kaidan grunted.

Shepard measured his total disconnect from reality and absolute preoccupation with her food. It was bad. Sinking her teeth in once more, she moaned as the meat hit her throat, consuming with relish the burger that had no relish.

But Kaidan’s pitiful expression—complete with nearly salivating lips—finally made Shepard laugh hard around her food. The spell was broken.

The Major’s eyes narrowed. “You’re playing me,” he realized, voice raw with betrayal. “You’re doing this to torture me!”

“Mm-hmm,” she confirmed.

Shepard plunged a hand into the take-out bag and presented Kaidan with his very own.

“Got you two,” she said. “And there’s fries.”

The Mystery of Pain (chapter four)

It might’ve been another lifetime ago, and it might’ve been five minutes. Since Kaidan last walked the Normandy, Commander Shepard had been in The Shit so often it was hard to scrape off. When she thought of hauling the Major’s ass from the Mars archives to the ship’s medbay, it seemed like the latter: five minutes ago. Which, although unrealistic, the man usually bounced back like a rubber ball, so why not?

As she looked at him now from a step behind, it felt like five minutes ago, too. She recognized the familiar stance and cologne; heard his unchanged soldier’s gait as boots scraped over the grating. Not only did the weeks since leaving Earth melt away, but the years before, too. Walking beside him seemed as natural or mundane as the passage of time; the passage of, say, five easy minutes in which they’d maybe even razzed each other on the elevator about grey hairs and worse-for-wear crow’s-feet.

When Kaidan looked Shepard straight in the eye, however, it was different. Worlds different. It was painful. It was a lifetime. She lost a lifetime looking at him, and it had been a lifetime since he’d last been here.

“C’mon, Hes,” he’d scowled, saying her name like it was the last time. “Look at us. This can’t end well. Just… put it down.”

She tightened her grip on the gun. The rattling, clicking sound was only slightly thicker than her resentful, pain-stricken reply. “Would I do this if I weren’t that certain, Kaidan? Would I?!”

He’d had a gun on her. For minutes. For the length and breadth of bargaining in which she’d convinced Kaidan to stand down. He’d trained his pistol-sights over her heart while they both begged, equally salient, for the other to come to their senses. They could have pulled their triggers and it’ve been just another mess in an immensely unjust war. They could have pulled their triggers, and he could have goddamn shot her.

Five minutes; a lifetime: these were nothing to the ten seconds it took to realize that professionalism didn’t mean shit when it all came down to stand-offs between allies. She’d been busting her hump trying to forget their history for the sake of bigger fish and fighting for the galaxy, but now, walking the hangar with him, Shepard was exhausted, jittery, and confused to the point that it was manifesting in a splitting, disconcerting headache.

She stared at him and tried not to.

She Does Not Brave The War (Solavellan prompt for ‘kiss in a dream’)

To come here was to face spring waters once the frost had fled. To feel through the Fade for this moment was like tempting thin ice with sure footing. Each solid step was an offering for which one might be rewarded with the swallowing cold; every tiptoe, though traded for courage, something to be repaid by faltering, fracturing ice.

“When did you know?” he’d asked.

It wasn’t grit that got into her limbs and gave them life beyond her sense. It wasn’t daring that did away with caution and carried her further than she ought. She experienced no heart-in-throat ecstasy of walking carelessly over a faintly frozen pond. She felt no bravery—only a chill.

“Maybe I didn’t,” she answered.

Solas and Ma’ven stood some feet from one another, empty, dead air between. It was her own fault, she figured, because this was her dream: winter without remorse; details mangled or missed by a livid body. This memory—accessible due to Solas’ past lessons—was less than a moment while disregarding definition wholesale. It was of Solas standing pensively sometime ago, yet that was all: context had been washed like the dirt off one’s hands. At the time she’d been too flustered, her heart so hurried, that the only impression left on her mind had been that of Solas looking thought-filled. And here she came in her weaker moments, years later, when alone with courage crumbling.

Usually she spoke to the thing. Usually she paced around the visage of Solas, talking of her ineptitude, as it stared straight on. Never she did kiss it, and, naturally, never did it kiss her back.

Until today.

Solas scolded playfully. “A dozen times you’ve dreamed of this place and never deviated from your custom. You depart directly after speaking with the spirit. Today, of course…” He seemed afraid to even name what had passed between them. Instead, he let a small smile bloom across his lips and asked again, softly, “when did you know?”

Hitched (Blackwall/Lavellan smut prompt for ‘pretending to be married’)

The wind was a whining. It rained. The downpour, neither bluster nor mild, steadily promised to sop the body and freeze bones as it birthed streams, bogged creeks, and bloated rivers like a corpse.

Pushing against the barn door with a bruised shoulder, gritting his teeth with quiet complaint, Thom kept their alms close: blanket, lamp, bread; wine. Bad wine, most likely—gone orange and sharp with age—but he hadn’t expected more from a Marcher called out of bed at midnight during sowing time. So he’d said his thanks, pressed four more coins into the their palm (plus rent for the night’s roof), and left.

Pushing open the barn door still hurt like a bitch, though.

Inside, it was clean: a cow shed repurposed to hold hay-piles which would have been better-off sheaved, but that wasn’t for Thom to say. Across the barn’s expanse lay a tall, thick carpet of yellow grasses dried in the sun which still smelt decent. Collapsed in its midst, arm and legs sprawled, was his companion.

By the time he was closing the door, Thom saw that he’d startled her. Her reaction cooling as he came in proper, she stubbornly refused to shiver, so her body was rigid with compunction.

Carefully taking the lamp from his loaded arms, she placed it on a stool. He’d be the one lighting it, however. Their flint had taken to mocking her one-armed attempts at finding a flame.

“Just the one, huh?” Vinya asked, admiring the fleece blanket that had been laid out for the sake of drying before they tried for shut-eye. “Going to be a cold night for one of us.”

“We can take turns,” Thom suggested optimistically, shedding his cloak. His gloves came off, too. “Would prefer one of us on watch, anyways. That tavern outside Markham… Well, it left a lot to be desired, let’s leave it at that.”

He was rubbing his hands when she brought him the loaf. Breaking it down the center, he handed her half.

#my writing #WIP Wednesday #long post #someone kick me in the ass and get me publishing stuff #i mean i have more #i was going to post it but deleted it #some sebastian/hawke stuff #some dawn/deacon stuff

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clubpenguinkiller · 7 years

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all my copypastas up to date

Copypastas You don’t have to be a parent to understand the horror of walking into a room to discover that the baby crawled out of his crib and onto that pottery wheel you forgot to turn off. And while the baby is spinning around and around, the dog is sitting there all calm, like a person, gently using his paws to fashion the baby’s soft cartilage head into something a little more modern. It might be the classic tale of bad parenting, but let’s see where the dog is going with this. somebody once trolled me, successfully rickroll’d me im not the sharpest n00b in the thread… just took another one of my signature “dust baths” it’s like a regular bath only i roll around in a bunch of dust and sand and start screaming when it gets in my mouth and eyes. anyway don’t trust the government Oh, purple-moustached clever Waluigi. Thou art such a genius when it is thy time to attack Mario and Luigi! How thou attach springs to thy shoes, know I not! Why dost thou not have thy own video fame? Art thou enraged that thou dost not have one? Why dost thou fight the Mario brothers? Thou art negative and wicked when shooting fireballs at thy green plumber, thy foe! Why art thou always cranky? Art thy purple knickers in a knot? Perchance Alvin Earthworm annoyed thou with his Youtube video. Why art thou so tall and slim? Perchance a Power Flower fell in you mouth when thou wast a baby. Why dost thou wear a purple suit? I like thy violet outfit for its unique hue. Shouldst thy brother Wario and thou fight so repeatedly? Is Bowser the Dragon-turtle you fiendish companion? I dost wonder what it wouldst be like to be friends with Bowser and thou. Dost thou own the Vicious Petey Piranha Flower? Dost thou like the kind Princess Peach? If thou couldst own a Yoshi wouldst thou? Thou art so sly and crafty our slippery Waluigi. Dost thou fight Geno the Explorer dangerously? Why art thou not in Super Smash Bros Brawl? Perchance thou art sad for being excluded from that rough game. Why art thou so nimble when thou escape the police? Thy symbol is an upside down L. Oh, thou art sneaky, secretive and tricky, mine own Waluigi! Ohhh my god. Ohhh ,y god. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh THERE IT IS THERE IT IS. THERE IT IS. OH MY GOD. EAYEAYEYAYEAHEYAHEY EYAEAAAAAAA YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA YEAAAAAS. I FOOUND IT. I FOUND IT. I FOUND IT. I FOUND IT. YEAH. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. I FOUNDI IT FINALLY!!!!! YEAH!!!!! OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD I FINALLY FOUND IT. OH MY GODO. HOH MY GOD. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. TAKE A LOOK AT HTIS EVERBODY. A LIVE SHINY PONYTA IN MY LEAF GREEN VERSION. I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS. I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS. I FINALLY GOT IT. OH MY GOD my heart is beating 100 miles per hour. i was listening to my favorite band once again. Sum 41. No Reason. Live in Ontario 2005. after 25968 encounters I HAVE FINALLY GOT IT OH My god corre al gol, lo va a patear yyyy GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOoOoOoOoOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!! GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL!!!!!……QUE GOLAZOOOOO!!!! *churns butter very quickly I hope my last words are "see you in hell" spoken to my grandchildren at age 99 right before I cut out my tongue and live another 401 years 私は究極のミームだ I love everything about you Boy, do I love chicken strips. Sometimes, when I’m home alone, I’ll take some chicken strips fresh out of the oven and rub them in my scalp. It doesn’t do much for my hair health, but I like the way they feel running through my strands of hair. The flakey coating, smooth white meat, and warmth. Yum. stuffing your face as usual. I gotta have a good meal Garfield, you fat cat. You are so big and fat. Why are you so fat? I eat, Jon. it’s what I do it’s time to kick odie of the table dont do it garfielf, that’s our pet dog odie you’re going into orbit, you stupid mutt GAAAAARRRFIIIELD!!! time for a nap. I’m a cat who loves to snooze (echoing) garfield you lazy cat I hate alram clocks I’m am hungry I want some lasaga you’re eating us out of house and home, GARMFIELD enough with The Chit Chat let’s get some grub going GRUB TIME… where Are the 3-cheese pizzas I ate those food where Are the tacos shells ? I ate those food where did all the hamburger helper go *brup* You’re such a bad kitty that’s it I’ve had it with you that does it I’m done that’s the last straw grarfileld Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb In the shape of an "L" on her forehead Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running Didn't make sense not to live for fun Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb So much to do so much to see So what's wrong with taking the back streets? You'll never know if you don't go You'll never shine if you don't glow [Chorus:] Hey now you're an All Star get your game on, go play Hey now you're a Rock Star get the show on get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shooting stars break the mold It's a cool place and they say it gets colder You're bundled up now but wait 'til you get older But the media men beg to differ Judging by the hole in the satellite picture The ice we skate is getting pretty thin The water's getting warm so you might as well swim My world's on fire. How about yours? That's the way I like it and I'll never get bored. [Chorus 2x] Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas I need to get myself away from this place I said yep what a concept I could use a little fuel myself And we could all use a little change Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running Didn't make sense not to live for fun Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb So much to do so much to see So what's wrong with taking the back streets You'll never know if you don't go You'll never shine if you don't glow. [Chorus] And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=uU_eaXsPxOY "You'll never stop me!" I shout, running away. My body transforms into a small bee, and as I fly off, I turn around and shout, "You can't stop me! No one can stop me!!" I hit a glass door and fall to the floor. As I lay there, withering in pain as my small bee body dies a slow death, I whisper, "But I never said nothing could stop me." My body looses all movement as my lifeless corpse lays on the cold floor. A single tear runs down your cheek as you whisper, "Godspeed, honey man." HAPPY fourth of July! Hello! My name is Jeremy Frederick Wilson, but you can just call me… Bombittyboo! I know, yet again, I have not been dedicating, enough time to my vlog. However, today, I’ve created a new interpretive dance and poem routine! I hope this is the climax, the outcome, of all my creative juices, since my last interpretive dancing vide which was from over a year ago. Well anyway, this poem is in the format of an english sonet. I hope you really like it, and I hope you like it as much as me. Again, HAPPY fourth of July! I hope you all celebrate it carefully, and wisely! Well, here goes nothing! I hope you enjoy it! Oh so, so many years before today, our founding fathers with their many signatures, sculpted the greatest nation, as some say, one that too this day, still grows, and matures. This, our home. This, our country that we love. That we still celebrate, July fourth. The men who made us completely free of… British tyranny. Which reined south and north. Free from this! We join together in bliss. To honor all those, who came before us. But we do not just sit and reminisce. We look to the future, as we discuss. The bright prospects of our nation so dear. Which much proceed with strength, and lacking fear. Hey guys its Sam hi here with more tips for your everyday life, helping you out, bringing you wisdom. Hey im 27 I’ve been there I’ve done that I’ve been around the block. This next tip has to do with relationships. Love, romance, whatever you wanna call it. I’m gonna give you a surefire way to get her, your special someone, wrapped around your little finger. I mean they’re gonna be just.. Ooohh thinking about you all day. Here’s how you do it. You have to awaken the motherly instinct. You have to get your sweetie, your sweetie pie, to awaken her biological, uh, genetic motherly instinct. and it’s very easy to do. I’m gonna show you how to do it. Kay? You ready? Here we go. (gets on hands and knees) Mommy! Mommy! (smacking lips)Baby Sammy want milk! (slurping) Gimme milky! Mommy! Mooommy! Mommy mommy!! Mom! Mommy! Mommy Sammy want milk! (slurping) Baby Sammy hungry! Baby Sammy Hungry!! I want milk!! WAAAAAAH!! Gimme milky! Gimme milky! Gimme milk! Wah wah wah!! Baby want milky! Here comes the baby! Baby Sammy hungry! (crawling) Baby Sammy want milky! (approaching) Gimme milky!! Gimmy milk! Here I come! I want milk!! GIMME TIT MILK! GIMME TIT MILK!! BABY SAMMY WANT TIT MILK!! BABY SAMMY WANT TIT MILK!!! BABY SAMMY WANT TIT MILK NOW! GIMME THE TIT MILK OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯＯ I came here to have a good time but I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now. It’s a metaphor, see? You crave that mineral, but you don’t give it the power to have an extra hour with the ball pit. Oh sad frog, if only there was someone out there who loved you, but my anaconda don’t noot noot unless you talk dirty to me and make me squart across the room. Even if the girl kissed the boy, your fave is problematic – John Green is the zodiac killer, Luigi is giving the death stare, and it’s actually blood orange. Free him! Not all starter kits are for stealing her look, but sometimes you have to eat Lay’s chips during peach time and submerge unnecessary color palettes in bluespace, covering them in text posts for the aesthetic. I told my bae to come over because my parents aren’t home, but girls don’t like boys, they like the selfie olympics. the way they just [clenches fist] olympic all those selfies. According to the science side, “The average skeleton fights in war for 31 days” very factoid, much statistical error. The average skeleton fights in war for 0 days. Skeleton Georg, who uses tumblr pro, wears a fedora, and has fought in the skeleton war for all eternity, is an outlier and should not have been counted. You’ll never see the last meme of 2014 the way Garcia Lopez de Cardenas saw it, but that’s none of my business. Anyway, here’s Wonderwall. [Muffled Flappy Bird Music Plays in the Distance] neopets is honestly a horrifying and disturbing look into the faults of late capitalism and the unfettered exploitation inevitable in unregulated economic systems like first you have the ridiculous inflation rate caused by the ease of which you can generate new neopoints. it’s like the post-WWI germany thing—if you keep printing money, it loses its value. similarly, as people play games, play habitarium, use the stock market, (basically any way of earning neopoints that doesn’t involve rsing from the NPC shops) they’re not actually exchanging currency cyclically like economies rely on—they’re just making it out of thin air. 10,000 neopoints today was 1,000 neopoints a few years ago. even avatar items that have been around for a while have soared from 300k to 3 mil. inflation is further worsened by a few things. one is that there are very few neopoint sinks (only notable examples are the main shops, wishing well, paid dailies, and slots) and only ONE that works even remotely efficiently. they had the save the wheels neopoint sink a few years ago to try to combat the problem, which only fucked things up worse. in order to incite people to sink their neopoints, they offered prizes to people who donated a lot. but the prizes themselves, both during the event and after, just encouraged people to generate more neopoints to donate and get prizes. it’s also awful because kids don’t play neopets anymore. in a capitalist system there’s always relative poverty, but the poor are disappearing. do you want to play a game where anything worth doing costs more than you could ever dream of earning? how is an 8 year old going to learn how to restock draik eggs? poverty in neopia is earning, like, 33k a day, and richness is incomprehensibly huge. we’re talking billions, trillions. wealth disparity is huge with no regulatory system helping out the lowest tier, and the rich get richer with bigger interest, bigger stocks, and more wiggle room with auction sniping the supply/demand is so integral to everything you do, buy, or take part in. you have things like codestones that generally stay constant (in the 3-7k range, with some inflating 20-40% around war time when people are training more because hello demand!) and things like junk items that you think could NEVER inflate because the supply is so high suddenly inflating 1,000,000% or more in a day due to a site event. and the staff actually have NO IDEA how to fix it. save the wheels? fucked up. portal plot? hilarious. there are rules against hoarding items just to raise the price, but how do you control that? bread costs less than rotten tomato salads. if you earn 16k a day (about average if you’re casual) it would take you 59 years to save up for a dark faerie wand. hell will eventually be sucked into the vortex of neopets.com and we will all despair and i will be richer than all of you In ancient Greek mythology, Pygmalion was a highly accomplished Cypriot sculptor. Though skilled at imitating the human form, and well acquainted with it's subtleties, he became disgusted by it when he witnessed the Propoetides prostituting themselves. These women were punished by Venus for their lack of worship with a coarseness of skin and a crudeness of nature, and were then forced into prostitution. Seeing this, Pygmalion the sculptor was repelled and could no longer appreciate women. Seemingly alone, Pygmalion sought to create for himself a perfect, pure, unsullied companion. He used his particular skills to this end: he created a statue bride. What you are about to watch is a mysterious video. It's origin is attributed variously, and almost certainly spuriously, to various abstract artists or surrealists. The truth is that what we are seeing, and what we perceive to be strange and disturbing, is actually beauty to it's creator. Perhaps what we are viewing is the work of a modern Pygmalion. To him, her toneless voice, the paleness of her skin and the comparative vibrancy of her lips may indeed be the very embodiment of a perfect woman... Consider the mind-scape of the creator. In whose mind does this appear beautiful? In whose mind is this pure, near worshipful? Are we missing out on his perspective? Who are we to be afraid or to judge them? He may well love her fully, perhaps more fully than any of us could ever hope to be loved. In the mind of her creator, she is a near goddess; the perfect representation, not just of femininity, but the peak of human potential. A perfectly satisfactory being. How does that kind of unconditional love feel? Well, how does she feel? Fantastic. The "Swing Daddy" of the piano, Artie Antlers was one of the early cabaret characters at Pizza Time Theatre. Artie sang with a deep soulful voice, and his style of music ranged from boogie-woogie, to swing, to early Rock and Roll. He often referred to himself as "moose-ical" and also played up the moose theme by making quotes such as "this Moose is loose". Artie was used in the early 1980s, and was the final culmination of the characters of Elkton John and Glen Camel who were mentioned in the original 1977 PTT Program but never put into production. He was originally announced in 19793, and debuted during the first half of 1980. He originally appeared at three of the earliest Pizza Time Theatre locaions - San Jose (Kooser), Concord, and Sacramento, replacing Dolli Dimples in the Cabaret (then known as the Piano Bar Lounge). Artie Antlers was voiced by Jim Cunningham, a jazz artist whose band "The High Time Octet" had been written up in national papers. Jim was hired by the ad agency of Foote, Cone & Belding and flown from Denton, TX to do the recording at Wally Heider Studios in San Francisco. The piano player on the tracks was a man who played for the Pointer Sisters, and the entire recording session happpened over the course of only four days. Artie dressed in a flashy blue tux, and originally had a black nose which was later removed. Mechanically, Artie was identical to Dolli Dimples (minus the breast movement) – the duo can be seen together at the factory here. Shortly after his introduction, Artie required a retrofit for his antlers which were originally made of wood and broke easily. A styrofoam version was created that was more durable and did not break from the characters movements. During the very early 1980s, Artie was used widely on PTT merchandise, appearing in print on items such as calendars and annual reports. He was also featured on items such as the “Chuck E. Cheese Cube” and other redemption items. Despite his prominent exposure and usage, Artie was never given a second showtape - in 1982 when Dolli Dimples was renewed for a second tape, a new character was introduced named B.B. Bubbles instead of new material for Artie. Aspects of Artie Antlers were used in ideas for new retrofits, such as a Davy Crockett style retrofit for Artie, and a lumberjack character retrofit for The King, however neither materialized past the concept art stage. sweetie, you are literally so out of line it’s fucking unbelievable. i could drag you so hard right now but i know you’ll just end up crying. i’ve roasted you before and you know it. chances are you’ll just say i bullied you because you’re gay and have different skin. talk shit get hit, you don’t wanna mess with me kiddo; i’ve got a black belt. i know threats are fucked up but that’s all i’ve been receiving all day, probably from her royal hoodrat olive and all of her nasty friends. but you can gang up on me and make fun of me for being goth all you want. i’ve been hurt a lot. my first boyfriend cheated on me, my dad screams if i forget to do my chores, and there are some days i don’t even want to get out of bed in the mornings. i’m a jaded teenage girl. i’ve been through shit that you wouldn’t even dream of. you think your life is hard? try asking the cutest guy in your grade out in the middle of the cafeteria only to find out he has a fucking girlfriend. you don’t know my life or my story so keep my name out of your nasty mouth. life is a battlefield and it looks like i’ve already won. i’m a jaded teenage girl👸. i’ve been through shit💩that you wouldn’t even dream☁️🌜 of. you think💭 your life is hard?😁😣👿 try asking💬❓ the cutest😙😻 guy👱in your grade👦👱👧👩👸👲 out in the middle of the cafeteria🍔🍟🍕 only to find out😨 he has a fucking girlfriend👫💏💔. you don’t👎 know my life or my story📖📚 so keep my name👸 out of your nasty mouth👅💩. life is a battlefield💣🔫🔪 and it looks👀 like i’ve already won👌 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌th 👌 ere👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my selｆ 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠＯOOＯOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit I AM GAY! GAY! GAY! I LOVE LONG BIG COCKS. I’M A SUPER SUPER GAY I LOVE LONG BIG COCKS. Now once again, I would like to make this very clear. I AM GAY! GAY! GAY! I LOVE LONG BIG COCKS. I’M A SUPER SUPER GAY I LOVE LONG BIG COCKS. Thank you for your attention and I hope for your support. Teru! Teruteru! Teru! Teruteru! Hana…Hanama….Hana, Hana, Hanamura. Teru! Teruteru! Teru! Teruteru! Hana…Hanama….Hana, Hana, Hanamura. Teru! Teru! Teruteru! Hana…Hanamura! Hanamura! Hanamura! He’s a cook. He’s a cooooook. He’s a cook, cook, cook. Hanamura! Teru! Teruteru! Teru! Teruteru! Teru. Teru. Teruteru! Teru. Teru. He’s the cook. He’s the cook at the Super High School Level. Cook! Cook! He’s a cook. Cook! Cook! Cook! Cook! Cook! It’s Teru! Teruteru! Teru! Teruteru! Hanamura! Hanamura! High School Level Cook! Cook! Cook! Cook! Cook! Cook! He’s kinda plump, plump and round. Flirts with everyone. (guys and girls) (guys and girls) (guys and girls) He flirts with them all. Flirts with them all. And he loves his mom! Mom! Mom, happy mommy’s day. Teru! Teruteru! Teru! Teruteru! Hanamura! Hanamura! He’s Super High School Level Cook! He’s the cook at Dangan Ronpa! Super Dangan Ronpa 2! Goodbye, goodbye, despair academy! Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, say goodbye, say goodbye to despair! Des-des-despair academy! Academy on a tropical island. On a tropical island. Trop-trop-tropical island of hope and despair! Hope and despair, it’s Teruteru Hanamura. Hanamura. The cook at Super High School Level! Cook, cook, calls himself a chef. Cook, cook, calls himself a chef. At the highschool, at the highschool, super highschool, super highschool. Super Dangan Ronpa 2! 2! 2! 2! 2! It’s Teruteru Hanamura! Hanamura, he’s a cook. He’s a chef. He’s a cook who calls himself a chef. Chef, at the Super Highschool Level. Level! Level! Level! It’s Teruteru, Teruteru, Hanamuru. Teratera Hanamuru. He’s the cook, the cook, at the Super Highschool, Super Highschool, Super Highschool. I'M WITH STUPID (TRANSCRIPT) SpongeBob, Squidward and Patrick's houses are seen. Patrick's house is shaking. SpongeBob knocks on it. Every time he does it closes. He opens it himself. Patrick is cleaning frantically. He featherdusts SpongeBob] Patrick: NEED...FURNITURE! [makes a lamp post model out of the sand; he then makes a sand drawer, television, stool, and a couch. The whole time he is still frantically mumbling] SpongeBob: Patrick, what's with the home improvement? [Patrick barks like a dog and continues to clean]Hey, Patrick! Patrick: Oooooooh, sweep sweep!! SpongeBob: Patrick, I came over to see if you wanted to go jellyfishing. But I can see you're busy having an episode. Patrick: [Stops cleaning. his face turns mad] You know something, SpongeBob? It's just all fun and games for you. Nothing really matters. [imitates SpongeBob] "Oh, let's go jellyfishing! We don't have any work to do! Life is just a big bowl of fancy assorted cashews, and nobody has anything to dust or to clean or to wipe! Or fabricate!!!" SpongeBob: But, Patrick, the only thing I've ever seen you clean is your plate. Patrick: [Patrick snaps out of being angry and starts crying] I don't know what to do, SpongeBob. You gotta to help me! SpongeBob: [gasps] Patrick! You forgot how to eat again! Come on, we'll get the funnel. Patrick: No, it's not that, SpongeBob; it's worse. SpongeBob: Darn, I like the funnel. Well, what is it, then? Patrick: Look! [Takes out a rolled-up piece of paper from his belly button] SpongeBob: Hey, a note! [A sixteenth note is shown] Patrick: Yeah, but turn it over, there's a letter! [The letter B is shown] SpongeBob: You're right! Patrick: And, I got this message from my parents! [Hands out a smaller letter] SpongeBob: Your parents? [Reads the note out loud] "Dear Patrick, your mom and I are coming out tomorrow for Starfish Day. Please try to remember, but don't try too hard, or you'll hurt yourself like last time. Love, Daddy". Patrick: SpongeBob, my parents think I'm dumber than a sack of diapers. SpongeBob: No, they don't, Patrick. Parents just like to push your buttons. Like this! [pushes Patrick's nipples and his eyes elongate]Nauuugh! Patrick: [Laughing] That always cheers me up. [His eyes go back to normal] But not today. SpongeBob: Patrick, if your parents think you're dumb, then they must not know what dumb really is. Patrick: But don't they watch television? SpongeBob: That's what I'm saying, Pat! If your parents got to meet a real dummy, they'd realize what a genius you really are! Patrick: But don't geniuses live in a lamp? And besides, we don't know any dumb people. SpongeBob: Don't worry, Patrick! I'll be the dummy! When your parents see how dumb I act, they'll think you're the smartest guy ever! Patrick: Math is power! [Bubble transition to the next day. Patrick is in front of his mirror] Patrick: A, B, C, D, E, F, G... [Doorbell rings] Oh! H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O...! Janet: Should I get the bullhorn again, Marty? Patrick: W, X, Y and Z! [Marty doesn't realize the door has been opened and knocks on Patrick's head] Hi Mom, Hi Dad. Marty: Son! You recognized us this time! Patrick: Why wouldn't I recognize my own parents? Marty: You never were a bright one. [Patrick groans. Marty laughs] Well, aren't you gonna show us inside? Janet: He probably forgot where it is. Patrick: Well I know where it... Marty: Oh, let me lead the way so we don't get lost. [Patrick, Marty and Janet hold hands] Huh? Hold hands now! [Inside the house] Ok, we're almost there! Let go on three. One...two...three! [Marty and Janet let go of Patrick's hands on three] Janet: Good job! Marty and Janet: Pats for Patrick! [Both laugh as Patrick looks annoyed] Patrick: I'll go get the beverages. [Patrick leaves, then comes back with a tray with three drinks on it] Marty: Wow, son! You put the drinks in something this time! Ah, son, you must've been working all night to put these together for us. Janet and Marty: We love you! [Both kiss Patrick as he looks even more annoyed and groans] Patrick: [Doorbell rings] Hooray, the idiot's here! I mean, I'll get it! [Outside, SpongeBob is putting on his karate helmet] SpongeBob: Protective helmet, check. Gary: Meow. SpongeBob: I'm supposed to look stupid, Gary! Gary: Meow? [Goes back to SpongeBob's house] SpongeBob: What could go wrong? [Patrick's rock opens] Patrick: What a surprise! SpongeBob: Hi. Patrick: Mom, Dad, meet my neighbor, SpongeBob! SpongeBob: Hi. Marty: Hello there! Janet: How do you do? SpongeBob: Hi. [Walks to Patrick's parents] Marty: Put 'er there. [SpongeBob puts a doll on his hand] Doll: Mama! Mama! Patrick: He means "shake". [SpongeBob shakes his entire body]No, SpongeBob, no! Shake hands! [SpongeBob shakes both his hands]No, SpongeBob! Grab my dad's hand. [Puts both his hands and his left leg on Marty's hand] Grab it with only one hand! [Puts his left leg and hand down] Good boy! Now move your arm up and down! [He moves his shoulder up and down. Patrick giggles] Janet: So, SpongeBob. Do you live nearby? SpongeBob: Hi. Patrick: No, SpongeBob. Show them your house! [SpongeBob pulls up his pants and reveals a blouse]No, not your blouse! Your house! [SpongeBob screams and runs over to his house. He runs into the shell and gets stuck] Janet: He lives in a fruit? Marty: That's unhealthy. Patrick: [Giggling] Hey, SpongeBob! You wanna stay for dinner? [SpongeBob babbles like an idiot. Later, Patrick, Marty and Janet are watching television while eating TV dinners] Marty: Does he always do that after he eats? Patrick: Only on Wednesday. [Pan over to SpongeBob pushing his nose to reveal his underwear. When he lets go, his pants pull up by themselves. This is repeated a few times. SpongeBob makes an alarm sound after that. Patrick giggles] Marty: [Starts giggling with Patrick]Uh, Patrick, I think your friend might be broken. Patrick: Yeah. And it would take more than some masking tape to fix that guy. [SpongeBob balances on his nose while making a fire truck siren sound. Makes other various sounds] Marty: Whoa! Is he gonna be okay? Patrick: Oh, that's nothing. [Dolphin chirping] You should see him in the morning prancing around yelling "I'm ready! I'm ready! I'm rea!" [Rooster crows] He drives all the neighbors crazy! [Horn] Why, just the other day, our neighbor Squidward was--- [SpongeBob jumps backwards over Patrick, Janet and Marty while making an elephant trumpet sound, then he crashes on the floor]. ---was really no help for him. [SpongeBob makes imprints of himself on the walls while making horn sounds] I mean, look at the way he's dressed. Only somebody with holes drilled in their head would wear that stuff! And how about his shape! I mean, I've heard of barrel-chested, but never box-chested! [Janet, Marty and Patrick laugh. SpongeBob frowns]Hey, SpongeBob do you have any mascara I could borrow? [Makes his eyebrows sound like elastic rubber bands] Marty: [Chuckles] The boy wears make-up? Janet: What a card! [Everyone laughs, except SpongeBob, who's now very annoyed] SpongeBob: [Confused] Hey, Patrick! Patrick! Patrick: Aw, he said my name. Marty: Wow, how'd you train him to do that? [SpongeBob is mad. He bites Patrick's finger] Patrick: Ow! He bit me! SpongeBob: Patrick, meet me in the kitchen! Patrick: Oh, I guess the dummy wants to have a private conversation. [Janet and Marty laugh] A dumb one! [They laugh again, as SpongeBob and Patrick enter the kitchen] So, what's on your mind? Oh, wait, I already know the answer. Nothing! [Patrick laughs very hard] See, that's funny. 'Cause your dumb! SpongeBob: Patrick, could you let up on the insults just a little bit? Patrick: Oh, were those too complicated for you? I'll try dumbing them down a bit. SpongeBob: Patrick, I get the feeling that you think I really am dumb! [glances at Patrick's t-shirt, "I'M WITH THE DUMMY" with an arrow pointing towards SpongeBob] Patrick: That's just what I'd expect you to say. Dumb people are always blissfully unaware of how dumb they really are. [Patrick drools] SpongeBob: I'm only pretending to be dumb! It was our plan, remember! Patrick: Oh, SpongeBob, if only you could see how stupid you sound right now, with your talk of imaginary plans. Tell you what. You've caught me at a good mood. I'll humor you. Go on, go out there and act "smart" for everyone. SpongeBob: Ok, I will! [Takes off his helmet] Patrick: [Puts on helmet] And don't worry, I'll keep this warm for ya! SpongeBob: [In front of Janet and Marty, clears throat] I have a confession to make. I lied about being stupid. I just acted like a fool so you would appreciate Patrick a little bit more. I know how to talk, and eat, and do laundry. I even separate the darks from the lights. So what do you say we start over and try again? Hi! My name is SpongeBob SquarePants. And I am not a dummy. Marty: [laughs] Amazing! Three minutes in the kitchen and our son has taught him to talk in complete sentences. Oh, good work, son! Patrick: It wasn't easy, dad. SpongeBob: [sputtering] But... but, but, but, but, but, but... Janet: It looks like it's time for your next lesson, young man! SpongeBob: Now, listen to me! I'm not dumb! I have a brain! See, here's a picture of it! [He shows them a small picture of his brain] Patrick: That must be actual size. [All laugh] SpongeBob: No! It's normal size and fully functional, watch. [Writes on Patrick's chalkboard] 2 plus 2 equals 4. Marty: Hoho, son! You taught him math too! SpongeBob:Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!!! Marty: And you taught him to sing! [SpongeBob is blabbering and sputtering] Oh, now he's short-circuiting! You must have taught him a little too much. [SpongeBob imagines them all laughing hard. Marty and Janet look at each other and laugh; then they all do the can-can. He imagines the three popping out of SpongeBob's pores. SpongeBob is inside Janet, who is laughing, inside Marty, who is also laughing, inside Patrick, who is also laughing, inside his eye. SpongeBob screams and runs through the wall outside, running all the way back home] Marty: You know, son, I've always known that when it comes to brightness, well, you're about a three-watt. But this guy! He's a wet match in a dark cave. He makes phone operators seem smart! [clears his throat] But more importantly, son, he's shown me what a sharp, quick-witted boy you've become. [Hugs him] Ha! I feel like I'm really meeting you for the first time. Isn't that right, Janet? Janet: You bet, Marty! Patrick: [His eyes widen] Janet? Marty? Who are you people?! Janet: Marty! I'm scared! [Doorbell rings, then the rock opens up. Squidward, Herb and Margie are outside his rock] Squidward: Excuse me. Does this lovely couple belong to you? They've been standing outside my house saying "Where's Patrick?" all day! It's driving me nuts! Patrick: Mom! Dad! Herb: Wow, son! You actually recognized us this time. Margie: And you remembered to get dressed today! [Patrick, Herb and Margie laugh] Marty: Oh, that's right, honey. We don't have a son. Janet: Oh yeah! [Both walk away. Patrick and his parents laugh as their rock closes over them] 👀👀👍👍👍👀👀 nice 👌👌stuff 👀👀👀 ✔️thats some ™™™ nice 👨🏻 stuff 👨🏻👨🏻 ® (cool ) 👌👌👌👌👌 niiiiiiiiiii👌ce 👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌 stuff that is some nice ✔️ass✔️stuff👀 ya got there ✔️ congrats 🎉 on the nice👍👍👍STUFF👍👍👌✔️👀✔️👀 👍👍 👀✔️™ nice 👌 shut the FUCK up 👎👀👎👀👎👀👎👀👎👀 bull SHIT bülł sHit 👎 thats 🚫 some bull shit👎👎 right👎👎th 👎ere👎👎👎right🚫there 🚫🚫if i do say so my self❌ i say so❌ thats fucking horrible right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ fucking ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) UGHHHHH❌ 👎👎 👎B0ОଠＯOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👎👎👎 👎 ❌ 👎 👀 👀 👀 👎👎BAD SHIT DO IT, just DO IT! Don't let your dreams be dreams. Yesterday, you said tomorrow. So just. DO IT! Make. your dreams. COME TRUE! Just... do it! Some people dream of success, while you're gonna wake up and work HARD at it! NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE!You should get to the point where anyone else would quit, and you're not gonna stop there. NO! What are you waiting for? ... DO IT! Just... DO IT! Yes you can! Just do it! If you're tired of starting over, stop. giving. up. >le maymay arrow is this a le new epic meme? screen kapped for dat sweet karma xD. FUS ROH DAH!!!!!1 i used to be a christmas but then i took an arrow 2 da knee :^( BAZINGA BAZINGA ZIMBABWE. top kek, toppest of keks. le nyan cat? hahahaha le mayonaise. fucking epic ass meme i love that fucking meme so much man wait let me just *gets crack pipe out* smoke some of that good 420 shit :) *rips a bong* AHHHHHHHHH YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that sure hit the spot ok now repeat that fucking epic ass M E M E WHATA FUCK MAN xD i just fall of my chair cuz i couldnt and i CANT stop laughXXXXXX DDDDDD OMGOSH DDDDD XXXXX DDDDD DDDDDD LOOOOOOOLLLLL FUCKIN HOLY SHITTTT I CANT JUST STOP LAUGHING CAUSE HE HE HE HE HE JUST TO FUNNY MAN!!!1!11! GOOD MEME SORRY I MEAN GREAT MEME EPIC MEMEING /b/ro BAZINGA BAZINGA BAZINGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ZIMBABWE is this a le new epic meme? screen kapped for dat sweet karma xD. FUS ROH DAH!!!!!1 i used to be a christmas but then i took an arrow 2 da knee :^( BAZINGA BAZINGA ZIMBABWE. top kek, toppest of keks. le nyan cat? hahahaha le mayonaise. fucking epic ass meme i love that fucking meme so much man wait let me just gets crack pipe out smoke some of that good 420 shit :) rips a bong AHHHHHHHHH YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that sure hit the spot ok now repeat that fucking epic ass M E M E I'm Squirting Pure Mio Water Flavoring Into My Mouth And Walking Around With Swiffer WetJets Taped To My Shoes I Don't Give A Fuck Damn About Society You Know What? I'm Going To Write A Song About How Bad I Want To Fight You, And Once It Makes A Lot Of Money, I'm Going To Buy A Plane Ticket And Come To Your House And I'm Going To Break All Of Your Electronic Devices, You God Damn Pincushion. Okay, first of all, FUCK your fandom and FUCK your bullshit fandom politics. I know you’re not going to like this but I don’t care and before you start thinking about flaming me my ask box has anonymous off so you’re going to listen to what I have to say. Monica would be a firebender, I think that’s one thing we all agree on. Now is where you’re going to hate me. Phoebe and Joey would both be airbenders. Now before you start flipping a shit let me just say this: go fuck yourself. Ross would be an earthbender and Rachel would be a waterbender. I KNOW THIS INTERFERES WITH THE SHIP. I DON’T CARE, FUCK YOUR SHIP AND FUCK YOU. And Chandler? Chandler would be a nonbender. I know it hurts but it’s true. I have watched every episode of the show and all of his actions lead me to believe the creators envisioned him as a nonbender from the start. Disagree? FUCK YOU. What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo. hi every1 im new!!!!!!! holds up spork my name is katy but u can call me t3h PeNgU1N oF d00m!!!!!!!! lol…as u can see im very random!!!! thats why i came here, 2 meet random ppl like me _… im 13 years old (im mature 4 my age tho!!) i like 2 watch invader zim w/ my girlfreind (im bi if u dont like it deal w/it) its our favorite tv show!!! bcuz its SOOOO random!!!! shes random 2 of course but i want 2 meet more random ppl =) like they say the more the merrier!!!! lol…neways i hope 2 make alot of freinds here so give me lots of commentses!!!! DOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <--- me bein random again _^ hehe…toodles!!!!! love and waffles, Getting salt from gamer boys in my inbox. Listen up turd turrets, I WANTED to just play video games, I WANTED to just have fun, I NEVER wanted my gaming to be political or a struggle, I just wanted to play. But you wouldn’t fucking let me, you brought up my gender, you judged me based on it, YOU made it political. So now I WILL wreck everything with my fucking feminism, I am the feminist nightmare you fucking created. Witness me. you guys we gotta hurry i just got back from walmart theyre selling nintendo 3DS systems for $149.99 on sale plus every time you buy one you get a $50 gift card brings the total price down to $110 after tax NOW LISTEN we can flip those sons of bitches for 230 bucks a piece EASY they’re all limited edition zelda ones! HURRY hurry come with me! We can be rich and also i’ll get to keep one and we can play NINTENDO GAMES nintendo give me free stuff 14 years ago ⬅️📅today⬇️, the episode 📺✨”Band Geeks”✨📯🏉🇺🇸🎸🎷🎺🎤 of spongebob🌕▫️🐙🐚🐳 👔👖🍔🍟 squarepants came out😱📡. Our hero spongebob 🌕👔◽️👖 and his squad 🐙🐞🐚🐠🐟🐬🐳🍁 valiantly turnt up 🎉💥🔥💃 the bikini bottom bubble bowl 👙💘💭🍜🏉. Send 📲 this to 1⃣4⃣ other band geeks 👓👔. if u get 5⃣ back⬅️😄, it’s sweet 🍦🍩 sweet 🎂🍪 sweet 🍫🍭 victory 🎉🎊🎆 . If u get 0⃣😩 you are a #squilliam 🐙💢👎😰 Bring Tooth Ghost Pipe Hell Tooth Man To School With You. You Have No Other Choice. Bring Him. Feed Him Lies. He Will Crush The Nonbelievers. Listen To His Voice, Do You Hear His Song, O? Does He Cry? No. He Is Laughing. He Is Only Laughing. His Voice Is Fire. His Laugh Is Thunder. His Existence Is Forever. Fear Him. Love Him. He Is In Us all. Believe. Believe. Believe My OCHIN is gigantic, O.T.N is it's abbreviation It is mainly handled with things such as △○□× it serves combined use for men and woman Recently, a portable style that disassembles became possible All kinds of OCHIN have come into circulation Remove the portable-type OCHIN, so there aren't a lot of lost cases I advise you keep the lock nice and tight Furthermore, be careful because OCHIN as a so-called sex symbol is completely different Again, the above text is completely appropriate I actually met Guy Fieri at a restaurant once - we’d accidentally been given his table. Apparently he was fond of the restaurant and had a specific table he liked, and the management had messed up and gotten their days wrong, (it was Tuesday and they thought he was coming on Thursday or something like that). Anyway, the manager, completely embarrassed (this is a pretty nice restaurant) comes by and says “I’m so sorry, but we’d like to move you to another table if you could be troubled, and we’ll gladly compensate you for the cost of the meal and any other meal you’d like while you’re in town.” My sister and cousin were both like “Yeah that’s cool.” and I kind of played the asshole a bit. “I’m sorry, I just don’t understand. We’ve been here for 15 minutes - we’ve just ordered. Can’t we finish our meal here?” Then out of nowhere Guy Fieri shows up next to the manager and says “Paul, these guys can finish. We’ll be at the bar. I got some time.” And I (being a big Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives fan) said “Oh wow, uh… I had no idea. Please feel free to give them the table.” Guy was grateful, shook my hand and said thanks, then gave me a card with his number on it and told me to give him a call later. After working up the nerve, I gave him a call that night, and to make a long story short, we had a glorious 11 month love affair, man on man, that I shall never forget. Our bodies intertwined as one, and from the beauty of Morocco, to the French Riviera, to the snorkeling in the Galopagos, Guy Fieri and I made glorious gay love to each other on six of the seven continents. Our MURDERCUBE, who art intangible, hollow-pointed be your name. Thy kingdom come, Thine will be Gun, on earth, as it is in /k/ Give us this day our daily Nugget, and forgive us our 9mm vs .45 threads, as we also have forgiven our Nogunz brethren. And lead us not into Taurus, but deliver us from Kimber. For thine is the ‘PING!’-gun, The Mauser, and the Glory Forever, and ever Amen Ave Nex Alea; War is the way of Man; Man is the means of war; the Murder/k/ube allows us war; our worship is our readiness. Saluto Nex Alea. You know who/what is “on fleek?” Jesus. My Savior. My Love. My Ultimate Hero. Jesus is on fleek. The Catholic Church is on fleek. It is on point. It points us to our True North – Heaven – Jesus. Our Blessed Mother is on fleek. She is on point. Her ultimate job is to bring us to her Son – Our Savior – Our Love – Our Ultimate Hero. Thinking of the slang, “on fleek,” I started to think about as a working Catholic wife and mom, what things are on fleek in my life. I came up with a top 5: 1. Father. Son. Holy Spirit. They are on fleek. 2. My Family. So extremely grateful to be the wife and mom in my family. Straight up on point. 3. My job. Even with some of the difficulties I have balancing it with being a momma, I am extremely GRATEFUL to the Lord that He has entrusted me with this responsibility. Definitely leading to my holiness – so, yes, on fleek. 4. The faith community to which we belong. First, the Catholic faith in general – 2000 years old. So on fleek. Then, the particular parish we belong to – St. John the Baptist Catholic Church in Brusly, Louisiana. It’s a small little Cajun town right outside of Baton Rouge. The people are real, filled with love, and completely community centered. On Fleek. 5. The Saints. Those who have gone before us, filled with the Holy Spirit, the faith, and an incredibly awesome love of Christ and His precepts. They are like my “on fleek” gang of intercessors! On point, on point, on point. Мы начинаем наше космическое путешествие в те времена, когда трава была зеленее и музыка прекраснее, когда еще не было плохой музыки, дабы вернуть давно утерянную формулу хорошей музыки. Рассекая пространство и время, мы слышим звуки божественной музыки, в которой каждая нота находится на своем месте. Кажется нечто подобное испытывают люди когда слушают альбомы Sigur Ros, некое блаженное чувтсво. Это состояние невозможно описать, трудно уловить и легко потерять, но удивительно, на всем протяжении нашего путешествия оно все усиливается и усиливается. В окне иллюминатора пролетают все самые значимые музыкальные и исторические вехи в истории. Важна уже не конечная точка прибытия, а само путешествие, потому что стремление - вот самое главное в нашей жизни, достигнув определенной точки нам обязательно захочется продолжить путешествие дальше. Честно говоря я уже не знаю где мы находимся, достигли мы того самого места? И где это место? Скорее всего мы улетели намного дальше, за пределы пространства времени. Неужели мы так и не нашли формулы? неужели все напрасно? Наше путешествие - вот та самая формула, точнее одна из ее композиций, собранная из обрывков воспоминаний. Вычислить ее невозможно, но нам крупно повезло и мы стали редкими счастливчиками которым открылась одна из идеальных музыкальных композиций. Сможем ли мы когда-нибудь повторить это путешествие… возможно не скоро, но когда-нибудь обязательно, а пока нужно вернуться на землю и передать человечеству данные собранные нашими датчиками. Мы не настолько умны чтобы из полученных данных вычислить формулу, но зато у нас появилась одна из композиций сгенерированных этой идеальной формулой. Так правильно, ведь если бы человечество обладало “ключем” ни к чему хорошему это не привело бы. My baby he don't talk sweet, He ain't got much to say But he loves me loves me loves me, I know that he loves me anyway And maybe he don't dress fine, But I don't really mind 'Cause every time he pulls me near, I just want to cheer Let's hear it for the boy Let's give the boy a hand Let's hear it for my baby, You know you gotta understand Oh, maybe he's no Romeo, But he's my lovin' one man show Whoa whoa whoa whoa Let's hear it for the boy My baby may not be rich, He's watchin' every dime But he loves me loves me loves me, We always have a real good time And maybe he sings off key, But that's alright by me, yeah 'Cause what he does he does so well, Makes me wanna yell Let's hear it for the boy Oh, let's give the boy a hand Let's hear it for my baby, You know you gotta understand Oh, maybe he's no Romeo, But he's my lovin' one man show Whoa whoa whoa whoa Let's hear it for the boy 'Cause every time he pulls me near, I just want to cheer Let's hear it for the boy Oh, let's give the boy a hand Let's hear it for my baby, You know you gotta understand Oh, maybe he's no Romeo, But he's my lovin' one man show Whoa whoa whoa whoa Let's hear it for the boy Let's hear it for my man (Let's hear it for my babe) Let's hear it my man (Let's hear it for the boy) (Let's hear it for my babe) (Let's hear it for the boy) Let's hear it for my man (Let's hear it for my babe) (Let's hear it for the boy) Pull yourself together (Let's hear it for my babe) (Let's hear it for the boy) Whoa let's hear it for my boy (Let's hear it for my babe) Let's hear it for my man (Let's hear it for the boy) (Let's hear it for my babe) Let's it for my man There lived a certain man in Russia long ago He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow Most people looked at him with terror and with fear But to Moscow chicks he was such a lovely dear He could preach the bible like a preacher Full of ecstacy and fire But he also was the kind of teacher Women would desire RA RA RASPUTIN Lover of the Russian queen There was a cat that really was gone RA RA RASPUTIN Russia's greatest love machine It was a shame how he carried on He ruled the Russian land and never mind the Czar But the kasachok he danced really wunderbar In all affairs of state he was the man to please But he was real great when he had a girl to squeeze For the queen he was no wheeler dealer Though she'd heard the things he'd done She believed he was a holy healer Who would heal her son RA RA RASPUTIN Lover of the Russian queen There was a cat that really was gone RA RA RASPUTIN Russia's greatest love machine It was a shame how he carried on [Spoken:] But when his drinking and lusting and his hunger for power became known to more and more people, the demands to do something about this outrageous man became louder and louder. "This man's just got to go!" declared his enemies But the ladies begged "Don't you try to do it, please" No doubt this Rasputin had lots of hidden charms Though he was a brute they just fell into his arms Then one night some men of higher standing Set a trap, they're not to blame "Come to visit us" they kept demanding And he really came RA RA RASPUTIN Lover of the Russian queen They put some poison into his wine RA RA RASPUTIN Russia's greatest love machine He drank it all and he said "I feel fine" RA RA RASPUTIN Lover of the Russian queen They didn't quit, they wanted his head RA RA RASPUTIN Russia's greatest love machine And so they shot him till he was dead [Spoken:] Oh, those Russians... I had this friend who used to brag to us all the time that he could catch his cum in his mouth without fail every time he masturbated. He actually wrote down how many times he successfully did it. 327. I’ll never forget that number. And every day at school, he would talk about this. It was always during lunch my sophomore year of high school, too..so it was extremely unnecessary. He used to always try to demonstrate his techniques with packets of mayonnaise but we’d always threaten to move tables so he’d stop. He was really one of those people who needed attention constantly. Aside from those times at lunch, he was a completely normal dude. Like…even after class we’d ask him about that stuff and be like “dude, what was with that cum stuff at lunch,” and he’d always look at us like we were crazy and say “what the hell are you talking about?” I’ll never forget that classmate. His great personality will always be remember but his perplexing obsession with catching his own ejaculate in his mouth will live on forever at my previous high school. He was a one of a kind guy. His name was Norman Reedus. Don't u ever ever fucken send me any thing like this again. U r so ignored. U will be so sorry one day. But u don't even know it yet. That pride of yours u think u know everything but u know shit. Your have really pissed me off. One day u will say. Wow Mom was right but it will be to late for u then. Fucken no all. I will not help u with ur hair or anything else so done ask!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to throw u out off my property. You r the most disrespectful little bitch I know. Don't ever disrespect my 'Lord' to me again. U and Chris will be able to talk to each other in Hell. Hey nightcore-ers. This is Mod Angel. Recently I have gone through a complete change of lifestyle and want to be referred to Mod Priscilla Valkyrie the Fallen Angel. Anyways, I’ve decided that nightcore isn’t enough so I will also be posting breakcore and dubstep remixes that sound nightcorey Yep. This right here is probably one of the best things I've ever heard. Honestly, it is. Every song i listen to now in my waking moments is nightcore remixes, full albums especially but its hard to find mixes for them all so sometimes i speed things up myself, I admit, because I just really like it so much better when its sped up 3000x. I usually do it in my offtime and it also helps me be more creative and inventive in my musical style as an artist. It really adds something different to the music and makes it so much better. So yeah. That's my two cents as a proud nightcore listener/artist

#text post #rin rambles

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ask-princess-slaughter-shy · 7 years

Text

Princess Slaughter Shy 2 (Page 6)

An original My Little Pony Creepypasta by Zaine McCartney

“Leave it up to me and my crew.” She replied with a vote of confidence. She looked around the room and gave a wary laugh, “but we may not get it all done in one day.”

“That’s fine, just get it done.” She left Decora to do her thing and made her way over to Vextra. “Hold still while I perform a shrinking spell on you.” He tilted his head questioningly but obliged. His body trembled while the magenta aura spiraled around his body. Bit by bit his body shrunk down to the size of a full-grown German Shepard. “Now come, I’ll show you to your well deserved meal.” She took him to the room that harbored Amy’s decomposing body. Blood was still oozing from her chest, her color looked more greyish-blue now than its normal white color.

Vextra instantaneously pounced onto the body and sank his wooden fangs into the chewy flesh. He wagged his tail with delight as he devoured the corpse. Fluttershy left him to enjoy his meal in peace and wandered aimlesley through the halls.

“Yo! Fluttershy! What’s up?” Called out a vuagly familiar voice belonging to a mare. It sounded from behind her at a far distance.

The Princess’s face contorted with anger and familiarity, she was very displeased with the incompetent pony’s use of her dead name but she also couldn’t shake trying to figure out whose voice that belonged to. When she turned around the sense of familiarity became ten times stronger as she saw a creamy white Unicorn with an electric blue mane and adorned in black-framed purple-lensed sunglasses, she had a very bright smile painted on her face. Princess felt frozen in place, she didn’t know how to react or feel about the whole situation. Her turquoise eyes shot a quick look at Pinkie Pie who seemed to also be frozen and unsure what to do.

The mare came to a screeching halt before she wound up slamming into her. “Yo! It’s been a minute since we last saw each other. I see you’ve been doing well for yourself.”

Futtershy just continued to stare at the mare unable to find her voice.

Vinyl’s blue magic enveloped her glasses and placed them up on top of her head, her violet-red eyes looking back and forth between Fluttershy’s. “You remember me, don’t you? Vinyl Scratch? DJ Pon-3? We met on the train not to long ago and you helped me move my setup.”

“Yeah. I remember you.” Princess finally said. “How have you been?”

Vinyl took in a deep breath, her demeaner completely changed in the blink of an eye catching even Fluttershy off guard. “You know, not so good. After you came into power no pony has wanted to hire me for events.” Hurt was in her eyes now, “I can’t believe you… Why did you kill them? What in the world possessed you to pinch off the sweetest most caring ponies in the universe..?”

“I… I…” She didn’t know why but her heart felt like it was being ripped apart. A knot caught in her throat that made it hard to breathe. Why was she feeling so guilty now? She didn’t give a fuck about the former Royals so why did she care now? It can’t possibly be because she cared about this common white pony and how hurt she is by Princess Slaughter Shy’s destruction, can it? She blinked multiple times to hold back the tears threatening to fall. She wanted to speak but the knot was far too large to allow the words to flow freely.

Vinyl’s eyes narrowed with anger. “I know why, because you’re a pathetic selfish pony who only cares about herself. She was so obsessed with wanting the limelight to herself that she’d do anything to get it, even commit mass murder.” Her own tears were brimming her eyes. She grit her teeth with extreme hurt in her eyes. “Didn’t you care about your friends..? What am I saying… of course you didn’t because you killed them all, except for her.” She looked back at Pinkie for a second. “You probably don’t even care about me because you didn’t care to ask me how I felt in any of this…”

“I do-do care…” Fluttershy replied though she wasn’t sure she actually meant it. Her dark side didn’t care about any of the shit she was saying but her former side really sympathized with Vinyl and her heartbreak. Her head was becoming muddied with overwhelming thoughts, her dark side and light side clashing inside was too much for her to handle, she felt as though her head was about to implode.

“If you do care… then please resign from being the Princess… give Shining Armor the keys to Equestria. Turn yourself in and let these ponies see justice for the unlawful deaths of the Princesses and Elements of Harmony. Let the land go back to normal with the sunrise and moon rise.”

The tears were streaming down her pale yellow cheeks and refused to letup. She shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. Her heavy grieving heart dropped completely down into the floor. The seeds of sorrow Vinyl was planting in there were growing like a rapid inferno.

“Please, stop your tyranny while you still can. Stop before anypony else loses their life. The real you is still in there somewhere, I can see her. Let her out and step down.”

Flashbacks from the night she killed Princess Celestia flooded into her brain, making the chaos in there become worse and brining on a migraine. The way she came face to face with herself in the mirror before she went on to murder the highest Princess, the way she smashed the mirror into a thousand pieces and used the biggest piece to kill over and over again. Her head began to twitch and her eyes went black to normal to black again in a rapid pace. She glared down at the floor, her ears folded back tightly and her body beginning to shake. She bared her teeth and growled lowly as the voice of her former self broke through her mind and started whispering to her. “Please, stop this. Do as your friend says and step down. We can still put the world right. Like Twilight would always say, friendship is magic.”

“I’m still going to be your friend and see you through everything once you step down. So please, give up the throne, please.” Vinyl pleaded one last time.

She sqouze her eyes shut and slammed her hooves to her ears in an attempt to drown her their voices. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!” She repeated over and over, her eyes were now completely black and she lunged forward, wrapping her front hooves around Vinyl’s neck. She trapped her in a chokehold and kept hissing “shut up” in her ear. Vinyl gurgled with fright as she struggled to breathe, she clawed at Fluttershy’s arms but they would not budge no matter how hard she pulled. Even punching her arms did nothing. Panic started to set in as she felt her head and neck start to twist to the left, she pounded her hind hooves on the floor as hard as she could, the shockwaves that shot up her leg bones was excruciating. The bones in her neck began to make a sickening crack that even she heard before her vision when dark and she could no longer hear the noise, the noise that bounced off the hall walls and penetrated everyone else’s ears that were there. Vinyl’s thrashing body ceased and went limp which brought Fluttershy back to her normal state. She looked down at the lifeless Unicorn in despair. She shook the pony in an attempt to rouse her. “Vinyl!? Vinyl Scratch!” She cried out in desperation and shook harder but the Unicorn remained unresponsive and limp. Fluttershy’s breathing became panicky and she looked over at Pinkie Pie. “HELP!”

Pinkie was in shock at the whole situation. She had never seen the murderous pony this distraught over a death. She quickly rushed over though she wasn’t sure how much help she could provide. “What can I do? She’s dead, Slaughter Shy… She’s not coming back.”

Fluttershy dipped her head and buried her face in the soft white fur. A chilling laugh began to radiate from her, a kind of laugh that made even Pinkie Pie uncomfortable and take many steps away. Fluttershy lifted up Vinyl’s head and looked into her dead eyes. She placed the glasses over the eyes and smiled sweetly. “I’m still here, Slaughter Shy. Don’t cry.” Fluttershy said in a crude imitation of the belated DJ’s voice. She lit up her horn and disappeared with the body, leaving Pinkie to look around the hallway with the most puzzled expression.

“What… just happened?” She scratched her leg anxiously and sat down, she was getting a headache of her own now.

Fluttershy popped into her old shed in Ponyville and got to work skinning Vinyl’s body. Tearing the skin from the muscle took an extreme amount of patience and concentration with a small fillaying knife. She tossed chunks of meat, organs, and bones into the corner of the room, her freshly cleaned shoes becoming stained in blood once again. She grabbed a scrubber and hot sudsy water so she could clean the hide, not leaving behind an drop of red. She took the clean hide into her cottage and proceeded to let it dry next to the lit fireplace while she hunted for her sewing kit and a large kitchen knife. She returned to the living room where she immediately began plunging the knife into her sofa cushions and pillow and ripped the stuffing out of them. Bit by bit she filled the hide with the stuffing all while stitching up parts that were ready to be closed. She wound up using every pillow cushion and parts of her old bed to fill the hide up enough to look as if it were now her normal body mass again.

She placed the glasses back over the empty eye sockets and smiled at the stuffed doll, giving it a kiss on the snout. “There. Now you’re all better.”

“Thanks, Slaughter Shy! You’re a real pal!” Replied Vinyl with Fluttershy’s imitation voice.

“Should we go back home now?” She used her magic to make the doll’s head nod. She giggled and teleported them back to the castle. The two of them popped into Fluttershy’s room and she placed Vinyl’s body on her bed. The Princess was about to climb in bed with her when a bark at the door’s entrance stalled her.

Vextra was there, barking and grumbling. “Are you ever going to return me to my normal size?”

“Awe, but you look so cute at that size.” She giggled. Rolling her eyes when he growled in protest. “It’ll wear off in a couple of hours. Go back to your room. And don’t forget to close the door.” The door clicked shut and Fluttershy finally crawled into bed. All the teleporting she’s done today has left her pooped and it hasn’t even been two hours yet since she woke up. She pulled the doll into a tight embrace and batted her eyes at it. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you but I have the biggest crush on you.” She blushed and giggled.

“Really? I was about to tell you the same thing.” Replied Vinyl.

Fluttershy kissed the pony deeply, her mind filling in the gaps and creating the sensation that Vinyl was kissing back. Soon enough her libido kicked in and her abdomen heated up with a desire for lust. Her magic moved Vinyl down to her lower half and the front left hoof rubbed her pink clit. Princess let out small puffs of air, her face burning brightly like a firework. “Oh Vinyl! You dirty girl!” She opened up her nightstand and pulled out a dark blue strap on cock. “Look at what I found in Celestia’s nightstand. She’s not as innocent and ponies make her out to be. I can only imagine who used this on who.” She giggled and winked as she strapped the sex-toy onto the Unicorn’s hindquarters.

They kissed deeply again as the Unicorn continued to stimulate Princess’s vagina, making it become moist. Fluttershy’s hind legs twitching each time her clit was touched by the tender white hoof. Vinyl prepped herself to push the cock inside Fluttershy’s marehood, the tip of it pushing against the opening. This caused the royal pony to blush harder and her heart to speed up. Even though she found out about masturbation not too long ago she still had never had full on sex with another pony before, she was still pretty much a virgin. She’s always heard that it’s painful the first time for girls because of their hymen so to be honest she was extremely nervous for it to enter her. She gripped Vinyl’s front legs hard and gave a wary smile. “Be gentle…” She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip as she felt the full length push through her tight vagina, it did hurt but not that much, she made Vinyl stop when the base of the cock met her lips. “Ah… it stings… but I’m okay.”

“Yeah. That’s to happen when the mare is still a virgin.” Explained Vinyl.

She became flustered at the word. She hated that she was still a Virgin, or well was before the cock entered her. ‘But now after tonight that will no longer be a label that haunts me every day.’ She wiggled her lower half and wrapped her hind legs around the Unicorn’s waist. “Okay. I’m ready.”

The tip of the blue cock pushed against her cervix and the squishy cylacone testicles slapped gently against her labias. Fluttershy was still blushing very hard, staring deep into the purple lenses and biting her bottom lip. Vinyl’s hips were moving slowly at first to ensure to let the vaginal muscles get used to the size inside of it. She pulled it all the way out and then back in causing the Princess to let out a series of low moans. The thrusts became quicker, the tip hitting harder against the cervix, and the balls slapping harder felt very pleasurable as well. She was now letting out squeaks and gasps while her eyes closed. Her head was spinning in circles from the whole experience. Masturbation was great but sex was even better. After a while they changed the position from missionary to Roman style (where you lie on your side and they are behind you.) This position felt even greater than the last, it made her open her mouth wider and stick out her tongue as she panted.

“Ah! Ahh! Yes! That’s even better!” Moaned out Fluttershy. Vinyl rocked her hips harder sending waves of bliss through the royal Princess.

The next position they were in was the downward dog. Fluttershy groaned deeply and bit down on the bed sheets. Tears of ecstasy twinkled in her lust-filled eyes. The balls were able to smack against her clit at this angle brining on even more pleasure to her body. “Yes! Do me harder!” She had no idea she was so verbal, it kind of embarrasses her, but all the boasting Rainbow Dash did about her sex life seemed to actually be legit. Sex is just wonderful! It’s just a damn shame she had to wait this long to experience it. Rainbow Dash has been boasting about her sexual endevours since high school. Rainbow Dash… the damn mare whose husband left her with a nasty scar that will never heal. Rainbow Dash, the pony she watched die but is somehow alive and walking. ‘How the fuck did she come back..?’ She growled and started imagining how that whole family is going to suffer slow and painful deaths. All except for the baby, she’ll be taking it under her wing and raising it as her own. Just thinking about bow brutal their deaths are going to be sent powerful waves of lust to her genitals, thus causing her vagina to pulsate. Her body began to take over and rocked its hips back and forth with the timing of Vinyl’s thrusts.

Vinyl pulled out and lied down on her back she put her hooves on Flutterhshy’s hips and carefully guided her so she was hovering above her. Slowly Fluttershy’s lower half eased down onto the squishy blue cock. Princess groaned loudly and bucked her hips. She placed her front hooves on Vinyl’s plush chest and bounced hard on the permanently erect cock.

“Ahh! Ahh! Yes! YES!” Princess screamed out in full on ecstasy. Her body shook like an electric toothbrush until she was in full-blown orgasm then her body shook like a level seven earthquake. Her hind legs locked together instinctively while she continuously moaned until her climax mellowed out. Her front legs turned to rubber and she crashed against the soft unicorn body in heaps of heavy panting. When over half of her strength returned to her she pulled herself off of Vinyl and collapsed in the empty bed space next to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Falling asleep as fast as she did previously.

An infuriating puff of green light blinked into the dark room causing Fluttershy to groan with disdain and open her weary eyes to see where it originated from, a light-grey scroll lay on the floor just a few feet from her bed. She tilted her head and used her magic to levitate it and bring it over so she could read it.

Dear newly crowned Princess of Equestria:

I’m sure you’ll remember me, your highness. I’m Queen Chrysalis, ruler of the Changeling Kingdom. I must commend you for your ability to take out all four of those rechid good-for-nothing Princesses. And I also must say you’re the last pony on earth I’d expect to do that, you being the former Element of Kindness. You have my utmost respect, Princess Slaughter Shy. Anyway, the reason for me writing you is to ask if we could discuss a possible merger of both our kingdoms. Please get back to me soon, I loathe waiting.

-Queen Chrysalis

Fluttershy had to read over the letter numerous times to fully grasp what it was trying to tell her. “A merger? She wants to combine the two kingdoms into one?” She screwed up her face with disinterest in the idea of sharing her beloved kingdom with someone else, which is why Sunset Shimmer met her fateful end. “Nah, we don’t need to discuss anything, Changeling Queen.” She grumbled to herself groggily, still peeved this stupid note disturbed her slumber. She found it in her to send a letter back to the Queen dismissing her proposal before attempting to climb back in bed and go back to sleep. Not two seconds after the letter had been sent to the Queen a menacing green electrical storm occupied the room, frightening the Princess a bit. She shielded her light sensitive eyes from it’s blinding light until it went away, when she looked back the tall and slender bug Queen with dark green eyes and transparent wings was standing there with a dissatisfied look on her face.

The Queen glared down at the little pony that was rubbing the blinding light’s after effects out of her eyes so she could see properly. Their eyes met and Fluttershy looked a bit sheepish. “I’m not taking no for an answer, not without a civilized discussion, little pony.” Chrysalis hissed with a flick of her dark pink tongue. Her menacing echoed voice bouncing off the walls and making the air in the room grow cold.

Sleep was still trying to pull Fluttershy back down into its sweet depths, she had to blink her eyes a multitude of times to just try and keep herself awake and alert. “Ugh… does it have to be now? I just barely got to bed after a long day’s work.”

Chrysalis just scowled at her, “so you’re saying the time I took to actually come here is ill important to you?”

Princess just rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t take too much to teleport yourself, so what’s the big deal?”

This reply made her growl with anger. “I’m not going anywhere until we discuss the matters of a possible merger with our two kingdoms.”

“Fine. Fine.” The multicolored Alicorn caved with irritation. She led Chrysalis down the hall to the conference room on the lower level. She took a seat in Celestia’s chair while Chrysalis took a seat in Luna’s. There was a few brief moments of awkward silence before anyone spoke.

“So… what exactly do you want to get out of this kingdom merger you speak of?” Fluttershy was the first to ask.

“So I can feed my subjects. The only food they live on is love, and who else has more love to give than ponies? You can’t expect me to just sit back and let them starve. Plus with the ponies you decide to kill why not let my subjects feed on what love they have left before they perish?”

“Uh huh…” She commented boredly, even going as far as letting out a yawn. She still wasn’t keen on wanting to share her kingdom withy anyone. “And what’s in it for me?”

#Princess Slaughter Shy #MLP:FiM #MLP: friendship is magic #mlp creepypasta #pony creepypasta #creepypasta

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