#bruz
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scopOphilic_micromessaging_864 - scopOphilic1997 presents a new micro-messaging series: small, subtle, and often unintentional messages we send and receive verbally and non-verbally.
#scopOphilic1997#scopOphilic#digitalart#micromessaging#streetart#graffitiart#graffiti#brooklyn#nyc#photographers on tumblr#original photographers#ArtistsOnTumblr#2024#Nekst#Goober#2C#ASP#PHEB150#CHECO#BRUZ#EA#Victor#Lewx125#Telk#Willie#XisT#ORO#BAK#ZNO#SAME
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Last choice of round 1! We have here coolest orc ever Ky from Salting the Earth vs Brûz the Chopper, antagonist orc from Shadow of War.
Tournament tag (all polls) here
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Today I went on a hike- and let me just say im definatey not the sporty kind... So as i almost died from doing too much exercise, I got a couple of ideas/Hcs.
Ratabg the Coward:
-He runs away from everything all the time, so he has great cardio!
-But look at his body, he is definately not a strong orc.
-That said, if you two have to travel for an extended period of time, he would practically run laps around you. Little guy has energy for days!
-If there is a steep climb he would offer to carry you.
-If you say yes then he would pick you up and inmediately fall to the ground. It doesnt matter if you are heavy or not.
-And considering Ratbags sometimes terrible luck, I can imagine both of you rolling down the hill and getting scruffed up.
-Dont worry Ratbag will help tend any wounds you might get.
Bruz the Chopper
-Unlike Ratbag, he can actually carry you if needed.
-Actually, he might want to carry you regardless. At the first request to stop to catch your breath, or at the first slip or almost trip during the walk, its done. He is carrying you.
-I imagine Bruz to be the affectionate type, any exuse to be touching you is good enough.
-Bruz might hug you tight the whole time, or he might make you ride his shoulders, he would love so much the feel of your thighs against the sides of his face.
-Might take the long route to anywere to spend more time with ya.
#shadow of war#shadow of mordor#lotr#lord of the rings#uruk#uruk hai#orc#orcs#Ratbag the coward#Ratbag#Bruz the chopper#Bruz
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Villa in Bruz, Brittany region of France
French vintage postcard
#vintage#tarjeta#france#briefkaart#bruz#postcard#photography#region#postal#carte postale#sepia#ephemera#villa#brittany#historic#french#ansichtskarte#postkarte#postkaart#photo
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youtube
#love#legend#legendary#government corruption#corruption kink#corruption#amazing#journalism#attempted hit#firebombing#fire#government#bruz#war criminals#crime family#friend#friendlyjordies#smile#beuatiful#silly jokes#joke#mistakes#Youtube
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MOULIN DU BOËL (Bruz - 35 - BZH) - Octobre 2022
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Anything For You
Bruz/Fem Reader (commission piece)
@a-million-sassy-bunnies
Fic tags: Sfw, fluff, drinking and public intoxication, one bed troup
Word count: 2,925
The frost of the air was suffocating, the type of feeling that burned the lungs in such a way that it swirled around the thick damp skin to chill one's depths. An immediate reaction that you’ve had to endure for the better part of a week. Hour by hour, second by second, every shiver racks through your nerves and deep into the chattered vibration of your teeth and the ricketing off-kilter tune of your bones. It’s an otherwise haunting description to ruminate on if it weren't for the constant heat source radiating beside you. The rays of sunshine breaking through your layers, and even though you physically got nothing, emotionally, the warmth from him seeped into your cheeks and chest.
Bruz has always been this way, at least to your knowledge.
Your time on the road together has proven this several times over, a genuine display of kindness with every conversation, each smile laced with connection. You should thank him for possibly being the only reason you’ve endured this trip, Though you know he’d never accept it. The will to keep walking had long since lost you, gone with the soles of your shoes and resting deep into the calloused pads of your feet. He made the time pass in such a way that making it to the inn felt ethereal, to soak up the flickering lights in the windows in the distance, the sounds of song and boisterous conversation resounding across the damp stone way a merestone's toss away. The building was old though objectively charming, its aged appearance offering up a coziness. The top half was comprised of worn-out wood, the exposure to the elements having made it fade a few shades lighter than its once upon a time, a glimmer from its fresh beginning peeking out from beneath the hidden underside against the structure. The cobbled bottom has definitely faced some erosion, sunken in and freckled with holes and mossy imperfections alike.
The heavy, embellished doors and brassy frozen knob felt like sanctuary as it gave. Having been rewarded for your persistence with warmth and pleasant atmosphere. From the boards on the floor to the beams along the ceiling, you were surrounded by stained, aged wood, rich in color and experience. You could smell the experiences of the past ingrained in the building, the spilled liquor soaked into the floor, the smoke of the lit fireplace singed from the corners of the stone cage along the ceiling about halfway across before falling short, for now.
The last underlying note vaguely reminded you of blood. Perhaps a brawl had broken out recently? A detail you’ll have to forgo for now as whatever remaining evidence is shrouded by the sea of filled chairs and wobbling bodies. The wake of pine sol would seem to be your only solace on the matter.
The deep pitch beside you pulls you from your moment of assessment as you turn to face your travel companion. “ A merry bunch, huh?” he asks, “sounds like we should join 'em” he finishes and gestures with a light nod of his head into the building. He sure didn’t have to tell you twice.
You make your way in, immediately marking all of the crucial aspects of the lobby. The majority of the area was consumed by tables, just about all of which were occupied. The bar was pushed back into the far right wall of the room, covered in the same deep lacquer of alcohol as the rest of the floor. Far ahead sits the reception desk, the receptionist looking awfully dreary compared to the rest of the lively room, the boisterous parties having returned from their tasks to settle in for the night and leaving her job virtually done.
Bruz makes his way to the bar, immediately bee-lining past all of the tables, even knocking over a sluggish man or two as he passes. Letting out a light chuckle, you let your eyes drift from the big orcish oaf and instead fixate on the bored, worn-out-looking woman in the distance. The next task seems simple enough in comparison to your last few weeks of travel, one you anticipate being over in no time. As you make your way through the crowd, you can make out snippets of conversation between all of the excited jumbled-up gibberish that permeates the potent open air. Comments on recent conquests, the good and the bad, playful mockings of one another, and even an occasional comment about the now most prominent man in the room, Bruz. This is to be expected. He tends to catch just about every eye wherever he goes, and you’ve long since grown used to it.
After several minutes of being bumped, pushed, and lightly splashed with just about every beverage the tavern has to offer, you finally make it to the receptionist counter, flustered and slightly out of breath. Regardless, you offer the middle-aged woman an awkward smile with just about all of the charisma you possibly have left to spare as you ever so casually lean forward against the worn wood. The woman is nonplussed by your presence, never hazarding a glance in your general direction. You stand there a moment longer as you take her in, giving her every opportunity to acknowledge you. Her head remains resting in her open palm and her elbow against the surface of the desk; her attention is still wholly focused on her book, eyes skimming quickly across the paper as it makes the bags under her eyes seem just a smidge lighter. Beside her is her guest book, looking awfully full as it makes a bit of anxiety rise in your stomach. Fuck you hope there's a room. You really didn't think you could make it another night of walking with your hopes deceptively high.
With a shaky tired hand, you quickly tap the bell on the edge of the counter. The ding is unsettlingly loud and promptly makes you twice as nervous as you watch the woman physically jolt in reaction to the sudden interruption. Quickly her eyes meet yours; a minor twitch can be seen in the corner of the lid as she takes you in. Suddenly you feel slightly more alone in contrast to the rest of the room as you try to find your voice. “H-Hi! My companion and I are looking for two rooms for the night. Would you happen to have anything available?” Your forced smile is feeling ever tighter as she continues to look you up and down blankly. Finally, without saying anything, she rolls her eyes over to look at the book that you found yourself scrutinizing moments ago. Flipping through a couple of pen-filled pages, she finally came to a stop, a singular line left empty.
“Well, that seems like tough luck, hun. We’ve only got one left.” She says, looking back at you with half the patience that you currently have. Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you begin to wear at it. With a quick glance behind you, you capture the sight of Bruz leaning against the bar, a large mug in his hand as he retells a tale to the barkeep. The poor man behind the bar is visibly sweating and offering the big guy a forced smile as Bruz continues to lean over the bar to stay in the man's line of sight. It reminds you of a puppy demanding the attention of the last person who it made eye contact with.
With a soft snort, you take the room, sure that the big guy probably won't mind at all, but more than anything, you’re relieved that this “conversation” that you’ve been having is over. With the ordeal over, you shuffle your way back over to the bar as you eagerly await whatever foaming drink Bruz seems to be sloshing around in his cup and just about everywhere else.
The next couple of hours go by much faster than you thought they would have, especially when, in comparison to what you had initially planned to encompass your evening, and by that, you mean sleep. Endless dead-brained sleep, you felt like you earned it for the utter shit show that you’ve endured; however, the longer you stared at the orc next to you, the more you felt like you had a couple more beats of energy to will away the urge to sleep. The time was spent talking about your travels, Exaggerating your stories more and more to near unimaginable feats, and with every drink you had, the giddier you got telling these outlandish tall tales together. The surrounding bodies have long since stopped listening. That was alright, though; the stories exchanged have long since lost their purpose for others and instead for each other.
The laughter had turned to slurs, and the bodies had slowly started to fade away into the distance as they trickled into the confines of their rooms, and it was about time that you began to agree with them. You could feel the heat of your face as you smiled back at the man you arrived with as he mimicked it with a concerned one of his own. He asked you a question. You just know it; however, the only thing you could make out in between the dazed state was the last word, “Room.” “Room?” you thought. Oh right! That key has got to be on you somewhere. With numb-tipped fingers, you began to fish around the pocket of your trousers, meandering about the fabric until you hit something solid. Curling your fingers around the cold metal, you pull it from the confines of your pocket before then presenting your prize with a gleeful laugh.
He mimics your game of playing champion and carefully takes the key from your hand, kindly thanking his tiny friend for sharing her spoils with him; how grateful he is to the little squish that is his human. He stands, offering you his hand to help you up from the worn-out stool. Immediately you accept, placing your smaller hand inside his much larger one, the pads of your fingers grazing his. The texture is a sharp contrast to your own, very thick and calloused from war and the orcish lifestyle that he's had to live out. For a moment, you contemplate dragging your thumb along the exposed bit of his hand, an innocent interaction that was interrupted by the feeling of his other hand gripped tightly to your calf. Your breath catches in your chest as you suddenly find your feet not on the ground where you had left them. Instead, You’re suspended in the air, held safely against the broad plush expanse of Bruz’s as he rattles away about how small you are in his arms, how worried he’d be of your little human legs stumbled and fell down the stairs on the way to the room, but that’d it’d all be alright because “Your good ol’ pal Bruz has got ya in great hands.”.
It all feels so natural to you, being here, with him, held so close to his chest in the gentle sway of his walk. As your head rests against his chest, your breath begins to slow, eased to peace to swell in tandem with the deep beating of his own heart. Your eyes feel heavy, the weight of the liquor beginning to pool in the back of your head and swirl around into quiet reassurances and blind trust in your wonderfully clumsy silly friend. You soon find yourself dozing off in the warm comfort of his arms, a night of restful sleep with fuzzy-headed empty black dreams. The thick, inky type that sticks to the cognizant facets of your mind and leaves it absolutely muddled in the murky buzz of a brimming headache.
You feel the sharp pain begin to brim behind your eyes; the profound irritation is splintering across your head, weaving intricate patterns of cracking earth across your skull. You can practically see the tremors shake the rubble into your field of vision, convinced that the back of your eyelids are somehow the setting of a cave-in, basking in the wake of your tunnel vision. With a groan, you crack open your eyes to the barest you can manage; the bright light almost immediately blinds you and exacerbates the start of your headache into something far more horrific. The wave of nausea feels like impending doom as pressure creeps up your abdomen and clings viciously to the back of your throat as the lurking acid pricks against your uvula.
Gripping the sheets around your body, you give a sharp jerk against them in an attempt to rip them from your body before you have the chance to ruin them. Your head makes it just over the edge of the bed before your first bout of dry heaving. Thankfully, nothing comes up, and your ability to choke down the next one rewards you with a burn in the meat of your throat and the state of your pride. The longer your head hangs in shame, dulled eyes dripped in drinkers regret, stare hard at the ornate area rug just out of reach of the bed frame.
“That's odd.” you think, “when had you made it to a room? Was this even your room?” flicking your eyes across up towards the door, you can see the key still lingering snugly in the keyhole, the wooden keychain dangling from the middle ring. In the middle of the keychain, you can plainly make out the black-painted numbers of the room you had booked last night.
Well, you suppose that answers one question at least, but that only blossoms several more in its wake. For instance, where the hell is Bruz? A surge of panic rakes up the length of your spine, and you're immediately dripped through by a tremendous cold sweat. You sit up with a start, Searching the room in a panic, only to be met with relief immediately.
At the end of the bed rests Bruz; he seems to have made his body comfortable on the floor while his head is cradled between the middle of his folded arms atop the comforter. He looks so deeply unaware of the surroundings in the room, of you being awake, or the almost immediate reaction you had to the mix of your own existence and the consequences of your actions. You take a moment just to watch him, to watch the eyes behind his closed lids flicker to life with whatever glorious scene of victory might be playing behind them. In the midst of his dream, a slight noise leaves him, followed by a slight jerk of his body. Then, subconsciously, he rakes out for you as his massive hand waves through the wrinkled quilt in search of you. He quickly finds your foot on top of all of the fabric, gently bringing his fingers to cover the expanse of your ankle. His massive size dwarfs the frame beneath you, and it’s moments like this that you can really take in his size and appreciate him for some of the most important features about him. In a way, he reminds you of a guard dog, resting at the end of the bed, closest to the entryway, as he waits patiently for anything to breach the door with all of the audacity and none of the common sense.
Gently wiggling your foot, you begin to softly rock against the hand on your leg as you lightly jostle your friend awake. A deep groan leaves him, and you swear you could feel it vibrate the entirety of the bed. With a couple of slow blinks, his head rises as he begins to look around the room, barely eyes trying to make sense of the current state of time. As he turns his head suddenly, he gives himself a much-needed crack in the neck, followed by a hefty sound of appreciation. You let out a soft chuckle as you watched. It sure did seem like the thing to hit the spot. His eyes look up to meet yours, and you can see his imaginary tail begin to wag.
“Well, good mornin’ Squish!” He says; already, his voice is a couple of octaves too high, but regardless let him continue on.
“Morning Bruz,” You greet back, “did you actually manage to get any rest down there?” You ask.
With an eager nod, he responds, “Sure did. You know us great orc lords can sleep anywhere! Practically indestructible we are!”. His enthusiasm is utterly infectious as you can't help the bright smile that breaks across your features; you sure did know.
“Thanks for bringing me to the room, big guy. I'm sure if I had tried by myself last night, I might not have gotten this far.” You're almost a little embarrassed to bring it up, just a little ashamed at having to have your friend bring youtube to the room like an incapacitated baby.
Nonetheless, he smiles. It’s so bright it’s practically blinding. Bringing his hand just a smidge tighter around your leg, he gives a squish of reassurance as he maintains eye contact.
“S’ alright little squish, I’d do anything to keep you safe.”
Your chest squeezes ever tighter, and the prickling in your throat all but vanishes at the rise of the cotton drought around your tongue. Leaning forward, you place both of your hands on top of his singular hand, barely even a comparison in size.
With an assuring squeeze, you say,
“ Me too, big guy, Me too.”
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Shadow of Mordor/Shadow of War Voiceline Files!
I was able to extract most all of the audio files from both Shadow of Mordor and Shadow of War.
Here is a link to the google drive folder.
(https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1CCMdhprNHSkeRIMNvtMgK6H5YjBSiDEu?usp=sharing)
It’s all in mp3 format. As of now a lot of the Ratbag, Bruz, Zog, Talion, Torvin, Baranor, Eltariel, Celebrimbor and random orc chatter lines are uploaded. The files have most of their original names from when they were extracted, so I may have missed a few character specific lines here or there when organizing them (those file names were confusing!). Also, these files mostly exclude audio from cutscenes (with a few exceptions.)
Any way, have fun and happy listening!
#lord of the rings#lotr#shadow of mordor#shadow of war#middle earth#middle earth shadow of mordor#middle earth shadow of war#files#voice lines#audio#talion#celebrimbor#ratbag#bruz#zog#orc
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Celebrimbor after being betrayed by Bruz
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STARMANIA - Bruz, France | 10 Jun, 2023.
Find out more / Buy Verified Tickets.
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STARMANIA - Bruz, France | 11 Jun, 2023.
Find out more / Find Tickets.
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her heymamasness is through and through in this
yas queen, free you and your future wife aaliyah from compulsory heteronormativity
me too, bobby. me too
#special ops: lioness#laysla de oliveira#cruz manuelos#bobby what's her last name#Bruz？#top in the streets bottom in the sheets
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With your thoughts on orc breeding out of the way- who would best to worst dad?
Oh man, this is a hard question! I will try with some of the Uruk/Olog boys i like the most, and hopefully my reasons make sense xD
1- Bruz the Chopper. Yes, I think -Bruz would be a good father. Despite what he did to Talion, he seems to be so genuinely nice for an orc. He is all smiles, very casual, treats you like a friend.... So idk, something tells me he would be good with children! He would know how to connect to his children and train them into nice warriors!
2- Azog the Defiler. OK SO HE ISNT IN THIS GAME BUT- Isnt Bolg his son?? this mean this orc DID breed, he IS a father. Now- I havent finished the hobbit triogy, but his son looked to be quite capable and respect him a lot. Also, he does lead other orcs, and i think orcs father are more like leaders for them, sooo yeah! Then again, I think he woud be a good father in ORc standards... in human though...
3- Ratbag. My poor boy Ratbag... Dont get me wrong, I think he would try. Very hard... But he simply isnt the brightes or most resposible in my eyes. Like... I can see him having to practically abandon his children in times of need- and he would say something like "They need to be independant!!!" Or something- he would feel AWFULL but like... they are orcs! Orcs need to face hardships on theri own to grow! Or something! BUT that said, he would def teach them all he knows. How to be sneaky, how to stay alive, how to befriend people stronger than them... And maybe, just maybe... He can get others to train his children so they become more than him- better, stronger, smarter! He would be one proud papa.
4- Bolg. Since i mentioned Azog i fee like i must mention his son too. Sadly I dont have much more to add to him. I think He coul be an ok father, if he follows his own fathers footsteps, but still, something tels me they both would be cold parents. They want their orc children/ tribe to be fierce, strong. No weakness would be allowed. So im sure they would be pretty toxic... I think he woukd get rid of any weak children he has...
5- Vog the Eternal. Im so sorry, but I cant think of Vog as a good father. He goes to the end of my lost simply because i just... I just cant! If anything since he is a necromancer, if any of his children dies he would be like "I can bring them back- STRONGER!" Wich isnt a good thing to say as a dad...
#ratbag the coward#shadow of war#shadow of mordor#lord of the rings#lotr#bruz the chopper#uruk#uruk hai#azog the defiler#Azog#Vog#Vog the eternal#Bolg
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Brûz the Chopper is an absolute icon. "Bright lord, Dark lord... Same thing really".
#bruz the chopper#bright lord#dark lord#sauron#celebrimbor#talion#shadow of war#shadow of mordor#lotr#tolkien#bruz is actually hilarious#he jumped in after i dominated another captain and scared me#i was like danm we havent even done the mission yet!?
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I dont wanna completely dunk on shadow of war because i dont think its a bad game (it's a messy game in places, but that's neither here nor there) and one thing i really like about it is how it does the orcs. Like. They give the orcs SO much personality and I think that's so cool. The orcs in lotr are such a tragedy and SoW just does that so well I'm like :(
#not fallout#kal talks#hello bruz. i love you.#like im sorry you can't give me a group of people and be like THEY'RE ALL EVIL NO EXCEPTIONS bc im like...#but what if... there were exceptions...
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Bruz was huge. His towering height and broad shoulders making a fearsome silhouette that felt like it engulfed you anytime he's nearby. His jokes and dangerously protective habits only encoraged your interest and excitement. The thrill of learning that size extended to every part of him only starting to dim when faced with the realities of it. Hard member twitching against your stomach as you straddled him, a usueless attempt to keep him pinned to the makeshift bed under you.
"Bruz... I don't think you'll fit." Your hand had found the twitching member to lazily stroke him but your gaze found Bruz's own. One that was filled with mirth and desire.
"Course it'll fit! You just need a little help is all. " The soft chuckle rumbled from deep in his stomach, finding some amusement in the already flushed look mixing with the shock of what he said. His hands coming to your hips with a firm grip. "come here, ill help you" Following his gentle tugs had you all but crawling up his large frame. The fire in your stomach matched only by the burning of your cheeks when he finally had you stop. Hovering over his lips with a thigh on either side of his head. Close enough to feel the way he growled beneath you. One of your hands bracing yourself against the wall as you peeked down at him. "Little lower beauty. Ya can't break me."
Any retort and reservation about his teasing command wasn't given the chance to surface. His hold on you allowing him to drag you down to meet his lips. Bruz not about to wait for anything he wanted too long, especially not you. The only thing hiding your noises being your own hand clamping over your mouth. The feel of his wide tongue brushing against your folds the first time reminding you of just how wet you already were. All the eager excitement finding its way back to the pit of your stomach with each broad stroke.
Not even your hand could properly hide the moans that came when he flicked his tongue against your clit. The bruisingly hard hold on yiur hipsthe only reminder to stay still despite how he teased and toyed with the sensitive nub. It didnt stop the your juices from soaking his chin however, pulling a rumbling purr like sound from the large man beneath you. Bruz finding no issues with the mess youve made of his face. It's only when the pleasure began to make your legs that he lapped a small trail down to your hole.
He was huge, every part of him. Even his tongue left a pleasant stretch when it sank into your heat. Your back arching and hand dropping to mewl out his name when he filled you. Not that he gave you long to really process the shocks of pleasure. Bruz's exploring every inch it could reach, memorizing each spot that had you fluttering around him. The grip on your hips edging closer to painful as he tried to drag you closer after his first muffled moan vibrated through you. Feeling rather than seeing how he bucked into the air, his own growing need getting harder to ignore with your taste on his tongue. Still he only encouraged your hips to move and rock against him rather than risk letting go of your hips. Sharp teeth occasionally grazing against sensitive skin adding a jolt of exciting danger that only had you closer to your end. One that came barreling into you, thighs clenching around his head in your highs.
Even when you came crashing down he hadn't stopped. Wide tongue your juices and delving into your folds once more until you where jerking and whining, overwhelmed by the pleasure he offered. Moments later allowing you to pull away from him with a chuckle. His tongue darting out to lick his lips before they curled into a smirk. "Wasn't so bad was it? Think you can handle the main course now?"
I know who you are and I love you so much
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