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unexpectedbrickattack · 1 year

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I was reading your tags and on the one with Vigi and Pep (always a delight to read those) "#and pep is just a very silly and affectionate drunk hes like" + "#hes throwing out ilu to anyone who will listen" and I just had the most vivid mental image that despite this when it comes to Noise he still throws out an insult, a little bit of drink doesn't override that rivalry.

Noise wanted to bait out a ilu from Pep to tease him with later but he's just buzzed like "ilu, ilu, ilu, shove a cactus up ur bum :), ilu, ilu" kind of thing. Probably still said in a silly friendly tone but, no, Noise, you can't sneak that by Pep, nice try you little gremlin. (Keep up the stellar work btw, I love seeing your stuff pop up)

Oh absolutely. Noise is like this is PRIME blackmail material fuckin watch this shit. And it never happens 😭 theres like a specific part of peppinos brain that is allocated to recognizing the noise in vivid detail like a needle in a haystack and it overrides literally anything that would otherwise hamper his ability to both recognize and suppress the urge to throw hands w this brat. So the very most the noise can get out of him is a very satisfied and contented hum, and a half hearted swipe in the noises general space.

His hand misses and slams against the bar counter and the entire thing shakes like a bull slammed into it and the noise is like u know what! Thats good enough for me!! Ill fucking take it!!

Bonus if it completely backfires bc peppino fucking grabs him and hes like oh my god hes fucking HUGGING ME get the fucking camera ill pay anything to get this shit RIGHT NOW GET A CAMERA but the ‘hug’ is peppino grabbing onto him like a ragdolled ferret and the noise very quickly is like ‘oh i cant breathe really’, and hes just stuck like that for an hour bc peppino does not fucking yield in the slightest. Hes just *gesturing in italian* w the noise in his hand being shaken around 😭

#answered #chattin #long post #alcohol #drinking #peppino #noise #the noise is just a little accessory for the evening its okay #he got a picture that shows PROOF of peppino being soft w him #the proof literally lasted a nanosecond in real time but that doesnt matter!#the next two hours of being cursed with teacup dog status was worth it!!!#he just takes sips of peppinos drinks when hes not looking #and eventually the bartender feels bad and hes like ‘would u also like a drink? ill let the first one be on the house’#and the noise is like i guess; itll make being a prop a little easier i suppose #local brat is forced to deal with the consequences of his actions; no one dead but one ego is crushed; more at 9 #also thank u so much ur so sweet #everyone sending me asks like this encourages my little ramblings heehee #i say this with an inbox piling up 😓😓😓

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

Come up with a title yourself

Short summary: you fuck sub!yandere!Childe with the sword handle

THIS IS NOT SANE OR SAFE IN ANY WAY

gn!reader x sub!yandere!Tartaglia

CW: Yandere, blood and injuries, sex with foreign object, masochism, verbal threats and degradation

NOT SFW BELOW

It was early morning when you received a report of Tartaglia leaving his designated workplace once again and it was late evening when you received another report of Tartaglia coming back with an uncountable number of cuts, bruises and burns after fighting with local flora and fauna, an enemy’s sword still lodged inside of him.

Normally you couldn’t care less what mess your colleague got into - guy seemed to genuinely enjoy getting his life hanging on a single thread - yet this time was different, as Tsaritsa herself tasked you to accompany fellow harbinger to make sure he didn’t get to kill everyone in vicinity, himself included.

Unwilling to face consequences for the actions of one brainless ginger you found yourself quickly heading to the infirmary, a long and scolding tirade about lack of resposibility and sheer fucking stupidity ready to burst from you, when you saw him doing brainless thing once again.

Tartaglia,covered in multiple bandages with long cuts and dark bruises still visible under them with the sword removed only half an hour ago, tried to get up despite the advice of the nurse fussing over him. A crooked yet tired smile made it to your face - Childe didn’t look like a mighty Harbinger like this, but a spoiled little brat. Why did Tsaritsa pair you up with him? No amount of sin you have commited in this and your previous lives amounted to babysitting him.

“Out. I will have a talk with this idiot”, you announced your arrival, startling the poor nurse. They quickly bowed and apologized before leaving the room while Tartaglia was looking at you with those eyes again. A chill went through your whole body.

Seriously, what is this guy’s deal? Why does love staring at you so much? He does it every time he meets you, cold blue eyes of dead fish trailing your littlest movements, making already unpleasant meetings even more insufferable.

“Hey freak”, you began approaching his bed, movements fast and aggressive: “Tsaritsa wants me to keep you alive and whole. Don’t make my job harder than it already is, or I’ll personally break both of your legs so you can’t get in trouble anymore”.

"Oh archons", he quickly muttered in a tone you thought was fearful until you accidentally glanced at his crotch. The bulge was quickly growing, forming a tent in his pants.

"What the fuck?! I didn't know you were this gross" you exclaimed in surprise only to see his bulge grow again, his cock getting harder at the insult. You wanted to leave the same second, turning to the exit as his hand gripped your arm.

"Don't leave! Or next time I am going to massacre everyone in my path!", he whined, his typical bravado gone in an instant:"I will do anything if you help me with this".

"Really? Anything?", you raised a brow, watching his face adopt a needy expression.

"Yes! Anything" he whined again, gripping your hand with more force.

"Alright", you smirked, caressing his hard cock through a fabric, slightly fondling it, and heard a gasp:"How about I get you off and you behave like a good boy? A good proper Harbinger? No killing, no fighting, you just sit in your office and do whatever Tsaritsa, heavens bless her name, wants you to do"

"Of course", his voice shifted into a high pitched moan :"Anything! I'll be anything you want me to be, just, just.. Touch me some more, please".

"Alright" you smirked again, pleased by the deal, before quickly yanking pants off of him.

He gasped and moaned as your fingers embraced his dick giving it a couple of quick strokes before he started to thrust in your hand himself, head thrown back in pleasure.

“Didn’t know you would be into this”, you muttered, looking how he fucks your appendage, his hips shifting rapidly and desperate, despite the multiple wounds.

“Hnngh.. we made a deal that you.. ha.. will help me, but you do nothing!”, he said in between whines, groans and moans.

“And what am I supposed to do? I am not putting it anywhere near my mouth, my fingers is all that you’re gonna get”

“Wel.. ahh..l ..I want more! Do something about it”

“Do something about it”, you mocked his whining: “You could at least tell me what to do. Stick my fingers in your ass?”, you suggested in the same degrading tone before he whined again.

“Yes! Yes! I want your fingers inside me! Please fuck me with your fingers”, he started to thrust faster, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“But you aren’t prepared. It’s gonna hurt”.

“All the better!”

And that’s how you found yourself slowly exploring his ass, your fingers pushing further and further against hot walls. He seems to love it judging by the way his cock goes angry red, a single shiny drop of precum forming on its head.

And then you find it - his prostate - Tartaglia moans even louder this time, his whole body contorting at the brush of your fingers, tense like a bowstring at a drawn arrow. “More. I want more. Something bigger”, he forces it out of himself, voice giving out in the middle of the sentence.

“More? Aren’t you a greedy little bitch?”, you chuckle, searching the room for an appropriate dildo and then you find it. The discarded sword has a nice handle, big and smooth enough to imitate the average dick.

“Do you still want to use no lube?”, you asked, slowly pushing the handle against his puffy rim. Seeing Tartaglia nod, you pushed it all the way in savoring how his face changes, light appearing for a second in his lifeless eyes.

"Good! So good!" He began to babble, soon transforming into barely cohesive nonsense, his hips meeting the thrusts of the makeshift dildo. You paid his face no mind, preferring to abuse that sweet spot you found earlier, directing the handle to directly push against it.

Soon, his whole body started to convulse, a thick ribbon of white cum shooting from his hard dick right onto his stomach. For a second his whole body relaxed and slumped, a fucked out expression on his face. You would even think that the picture of fucked out Tartaglia was pretty if he wasn’t so annoying.

“My part of the deal is done”, you said, heading towards the exit - there was no need to wait for Tartaglia to regain his breath: “I expect you to be a good boy from this day on”.

Something tells you that he’ll find a way to repeat this again.

#Yandere Tartaglia #Yandere Childe #Yandere Ajax #Yandere Genshin impact x reader #yandere #male yandere #sub!tartaglia #sub!ajax #yandere x reader #Childe #Tartaglia x reader #Childe x reader #Ajax x reader #Tartaglia #Ajax #Genshin impact #sub!childe #I don't think I'll add it to masterlist

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shielduniversityapps · 5 years

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OOC INFORMATION:

Name/ Pseudonym: terri !! back at it again

IC INFORMATION:

Character you’re applying for: anna-marie ‘rogue’ Age: 24 FaceClaim: Maia Mitchell Secondary FaceClaim: (in the very rare chance there is an issue with your first choice.) zoey deutch Traits: (2 positive and 2 negatives.) independent and brave & guarded and closed off Reformation Stance: (Pro or Anti [ refer to this to get a better gauge on what we mean] ) anti Is their Identity known?: nope ! Class Standing (junior, senior, TA or professor, etc if you’re unsure click here): senior

Why do you want to play this character?: to be completely honest, the first comic i ever read was the x-men and i just gravitated towards rogue. she was so independent and amazing. she had to overcome a lot in her life and she became this bad ass hero who people can look up to ! she kicks ass and takes names ! Other characters you’d like to play (feel free to leave this blank. we are just curious about what you are interested in):n/a Bio: owen and priscilla lived a calm life on a hippie commune when they had little anna-marie. things were going well for them and the community until a failed attempt at native american mysticism caused them to disappear. anna-marie was then left to her aunt carries care, who took to that job very quickly and created a very strict household as to not let anna-marie fall into the same traps as her parents did. all that did was get her to rebel more, things like running away often and petty theft became something young anna-marie became known for and granted her the nickname: rogue.

around this time, rogue began hanging around a local boy named cody who ended up becoming flirtatious with her. in the heat of the moment one night, they shared a kiss - her first kiss to be exact and in that moment, her abilities finally emerged. the kiss caused her to suck the life force and psyche from cody who ended up in a coma because of it. distraught from her new found inability to touch or have any skin-to-skin contact along with the guilt of having hurt someone she cared about, she did what she knew best - she ran away from it. during this time, rogue was lured into the brotherhood by a woman named mystique. she was taken under her wing and given that mother-daughter relationship she wanted but at the same time - this group of mutants only strengthened her negative emotions and got her to use her abilities for unsavory things. after a while, the memories of strangers in her head finally started to catch up with her and she started to crack. knowing that the brotherhood didn’t really care about her, rogue went to the only person she thought could help, professor x who encouraged her to join his team at the shield university.

Writing Sample: rogue slammed her door shut, her chest heaving up and down from the fact that she’d just ran from the park five blocks away to her house. she’d just left cody there, collapsed on the ground. she didn’t know what to do, was he dead? he couldn’t be, right? she didn’t kill him? how could she ? all these questions were swirling around her head along with things that weren’t hers, like memories of throwing a football with a man she didn’t recognize, teasing a younger sister she didn’t have and eating dinner with a family that wasn’t hers. her mind was in shock, her body was in panic mode. they probably found him by now, they probably thought someone tried to kill him or maybe they didn’t but rogue couldn’t take that chance. she didn’t know what was going but she knew it was her fault, most things that were bad in her life were her fault.

she locked the door as she pulled her backpack from the ground and started to shove clothes into the bag, just grabbing whatever she saw not even caring if it was old or out of style. she looked around the room once again, scanning to see if she was missing something important she’d need. this wasn’t the first time she’d run away but this was more urgent than those times. the other were just her being a brat, not wanting to deal with the consequences of her actions but this, this was much bigger than skipping school. she quickly grabbed her essentials, deodorant, perfume, toothbrush, tooth paste, hair brush, her small bag of stolen makeup and a frame with the only picture of her and her mom she had. throwing those in with the clothes, she quickly zipped the main compartment before checking her wallet, it had eighty dollars in it - sixty of which she’d stolen from aunt carrie’s purse when she was in the shower earlier that morning. it was enough, for now. rogue threw on her comfiest jacket and swung her backpack onto her shoulders before opening her window. her eyes went to her desk, eyeing the pair of winter gloves she never wore. she snatched them quickly, shoving them into the back pocket of her jeans as she climbed out the window of her room to the outside. her aunt would be home soon. rogue looked back at her window, sighing before running in the opposite direction of where she’d left cody. this was her life now.

Extra Bits and Bobs: https://www.pinterest.com/buffiislayer/anna-marie-aka-rogue/ Rule check: to be considered an active member you have to post every 6 days in the ic discord or on the dash. no photos or musings count as activity.

#secondary character #submission

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ramrodd · 6 years

Video

youtube

WHY ARE THERE NO ROMAN RECORDS OF JESUS?

COMMENTARY:

donwharrison

Like Jesus, Cornelius and me, you know Yaweh, Queen of Battle. If, in the line of duty, you have ever run to the sound of guns, you were responding to Yaweh, Queen of Battle. It's the nature of duty: Instant obedience and self-discipline. The sacrifice of Isaac is a study in the nature of obedience.

Everything Jesus does is in the context of dudy "For I, too, am under authority. I tell my soldier "Go!" and he goes. I tell his buddy "Come!" and I tell my Gunnery Sergeant "Do this thing" and it is done". Authority = duty.

Jesus is totally a "Be All You Can Be - Semper Fe! Do or Die - Ranger: Lead the Way" kind of guy. You have far more in common with him and Cornelius than you do with wimps like Richard Carrier or candy-ass Christians like John Piper, as a proxy for all the Salvation-Prosperty Spiritual-candy-ass-Pro-Life/Creationist Christians. And that is exactly the theme, tone and emotional quality of Hebrews: Jesus is the real-deal, the process theology He represents is the best religion of all religions and, well, it could get you killed, but get one for the Gipper.

I have been in a sky filled with helicopters and my recon platoon was ordered to secure the LZ until the next larger until began to flow in and begin to enlarge the perimeter so that more than one slick at a time could get in underneath the triple canopy. Another day in Paradise.

I was in the third slick. I wanted to get an intact squad on the ground before I got into the mix and that took two slicks with Charley Funk's squad and "Preacher" the shake-and-bake lay minister squad leader and his RTO and a crank and maybe a thump gun from his squad. We were hot and high about a month after the 4ID got back from Cambodia and everything in Vietnam was wearing out and everything we were going to leave behind would be scrap metal, but that was a bit in the future and on this particular day, some of the slicks could barely get their crew off the ground with a running start and the loads varied. I was in the third slick to see what was going on from the air before I got my nose into the mud and had to everything by sound. I had me, my RTO, my 4.2 FO and his RTO and a medic. That would put two medics on the ground and my medics could fight their way in and out of some incredible shit to get their guy doped-up, plugged up and on his way to dust-off. My squad leaders didn't need me if the shit the fan and I got to shot all the wounded prisioners we couldn't back haul and couldn't wait to turn over to our relief. My morphine was for my men and if killing prisoners was to be done, that's why they paid me the big bucks. Rusty Calley was being courtmartialed for wet work at the time and if anybody was going to be court martialed for battlefield management, here am I.O Lord: Thy Will be done. Dying by the sword beat dying by the cross, any day.

Do you remember how rifle fire from out of the swadows of the tree line looked like fire-flies on a soft summer evening? Or how the NVA tracers came up in a lazy slow motion arc until they whip past your toes, looking like fat green beer cans in the center of a green haze. Did it ever make you think of Jimi Hendrix? Fire a burst of six, right Gunny? Fire a burst of six and spit a little spear of fire every 5th round.

Getting shot at makes me crazy. It opens a little door of white hot rage in my consciousness and it doesn't go out until everybody shooting at me is dead. Combat was everything I hoped it woutd be. After I got back to the World and left the Army, I played rugby just for a taste of the intensity an hour a week.

Now, that's an example of a war story.

We've done some of the same stuff, you and I and you just got to do it longer. It is impossible to overstate how fucked up the Army was between Tet 68 and 1973, when Gen Sullivan authorized Task Force Delta which produced the "Be All You Can Be" slogan. I'm in the same business as the guy who coined the phrase and was the Army's Organization Effectiveness guru. He and I are the only people in the world doing what we do and he's dead. He was a Green Brreret and one of the writers of The Port Huron Statement, which was the organizing manifesto of the Students for a Democratic Society. If you were in Vietnam in 71, you would remember the SDS, a Trotsky-insurgency process in action. Frank Burns was in his senior year in ROTC and almost got thrown out. Frank and I were both Army brats and, growing up then, Counter-insurgency was the sexy career path and Frank just wanted to see if it worked as advertised. Remember the Police Riots in Chicago '68? That's how it works. Newt Gingrich was an army brat Frank's age and he copied the tactics of the SDS to become Speaker of the House and I've been dealing with that shit since I got back in 71 while you got to play USMC Gunny, and I'm trying to cut through some of the crap in the civilian world that is fucking with all combat vets to the tune of 22 suicides a day but if you'd rather cop an attitude because it feels so good to roll out your best Full Metal Jacket tap dance on any handy Jesus freak, you've earned the right. Just take your Richard Carrier anti-theist apologetics and Jesus-as-myth drivel to the Chaplain because I'm not interested.

The Gospel of Mark is a war story by a guy who was there and was a very skilled observer and intelligence network manager. Cornelius. Like Theophilus, Cornelius is probably an operational name. You know, a British general used the Bible to mount an infiltration of an army in a sneak attack and T.E. Lawrence refered to the Bible for similar clues throughout his career against the Turks. That's where Paul wandered around for thrity years or so. Richard Carrier ever mention that?

In your resonse that this post actually responds to, you compain that I called you out as an anti-theist without you mentioning it and tried to slander me as a psychic. Fuck you. First of all, I am, in fact, a little psychic. I learned to read cards from a Richmond psychic, Wray Parks Pearman. Before the crypto-Nazis who came to town with Reagan fucked things up, there were a lot of gypsies in DC and a huge wicca population in Northern Virginia and I just sort of picked this stuff up from some of the women I was partying with.

But that's another story. I couldn't major in ROTC, so I studied English and German Literature and Epistemology to fill the time between Leadership Lab and rugby pracice. Content analysis is the essence of Literary criticism and psychology the basis of character development. Looking at what someone writes and considering the texture of communication involved is all you do. "

So, when I run across an asshole statement like this "This apologetic is so flawed as to be almost laughable" in a forum generated by the content of of that video, bells and whistles go off. Just scanning it left the impression of an autodidact with an attitude I associate with evangelical anti-theists schooled in the apologetics of Ken Humphries and Christopher Hitchens and the sermonizing of Richard Carrier. I wasn't even guessing. I was interested if you would continue to try to disguise your orientation. You're the first jarhead lifer I've ever flushed out but it don't mean nothing.

Richard Carrier likes to brag that he can match SEALs with stories of sleeplessness. I'm an Army Ranger and I can't match their stories of sleeplessness. Sleeplessness is a design feature of SEAL training. It is merely a consequence of Ranger training. Carrier's essential tool of protocol for historic veracity is, basically, "Fake News" for anything that doesn't fit his narrative.

For example, you dismiss Tertullian as a 2nd century Christian apologist because he completely out-flanks Carrier's historical protocols on about three things and, well, vitiates Carrier's entire library.

The most interesting to me is how the lable "Christian" got to Antioch when it did. Like Slope, Gook, Dink, Slant-eyes and the other names we called the Little People, "Christian" was an invention of the Roman soldiers, referring to the organizing principle of that group of people as they saw it, in the same way the Roman soldiers call the Israelis "Jews" because they were from Judea or you called Arabs Ragheads and Camel-Jockeys when you were in the sand box. The followers of Jesus didn't call themselves "Christians" because they didn't think of themselves as Christians. They saw themselves as People of The Way. So, it was a very local slang for the amusement of the troops in the two legions stationed around Caesarea patrolling the trade routes in and out of Africa across the Gaza land bridge. And the Jews probably ignored the soldiers as much as possible and the soldiers spoke in Latin, tactically, and in pidgen Greek like our "beaucoup dinki-dau" Vietnamese we used to do business with the little people.

But the intelligence report that came out of Palestine and caused Tertullian to propose Jesus as a legal deity included the catagory "Christian" to differentiate these people from the rest of the Jews in the world. So the term "Christian" gets to Rome sometime between 33 and 37, when Tiberius dies and Pilate is recalled. Now, Pilate could have taken the term back with him Rome when he was recalled by Caligula, but the important thing is that the term was created by the soldiers in Palestine and it became current in Rome before it becomes current in Jerusalem, because, according to Acts, it doesn't show up for Christians and Jews until 45 or so and it shows up in Antioch, which is a very cosmopolitian city not unlike Tel Aviv, today and it isn't, yet, a common term among Christians in that region. And doesn't gain much currency any place but Rome in Roman records and not the Book of Acts or the letters of Paul. They term, Christian, is extra-scriptural, and the way it gets there is through Roman military channels.

In terms of Hegelian dialectical processes, that's pretty compelling history. Amen.

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