#torntruth

03. grazing their knuckles along the other's hip or thigh in passing.

the white of the side of shaquille's left eye is painted red from the bursted blood vessels . those fucking militech androids usually didn't put up much of a fight once the human operators controlling their every move were taken out , but the ones shaquille & kristen came across today weren't mark ii's . he guessed they were a advanced bot , most likely recently ( and secretly ) put into operation . all it took was one backhand & the rockerboy was left with a pretty shiner & a fifth broken nose

with the assistance of his partner in crime , the nose was able to be realigned with ease . once they were back to a safehouse in heywood , it was decompression time . shaquille's way of relaxing after life or death scenarios was typically playing his guitar while laying naked in bed , but today he felt ... anxiety? stress? it was hard to really say what it was . just a feeling in the center of his chest , like the skin was hollow , ready to shatter at any moment . so a long hot shower felt like it was the best route tonight

the cargo was something that militech & their corporate client was keeping hush hush . they used codenames for the damn thing . militech called it the red king , whatever the fuck that meant . but with all the data shaquille had seen of the product along with how secretive the corpo buyer was being about it ... well , let's just say it made the revolutionary feel a bit uneasy

the lights in the bathroom are dim , only dark purple illumination shrouding over the ebony skin of shaquille's broad shoulders & rippling heavy muscles . hot water glistens off his body , thick manhood resting between thighs as he breathes in through his nose , out through his mouth . staring at the wall of the shower , he puts both palms of his hands against the wall in front of him , bald head leaning forward , pressing against the tile in exhaustion

❛ ki fout mwen te fè nou antre? ❜ ( what the fuck did i get us into? ) the rockerboy whispers to himself , wondering if he pulled kristen into something he shouldn't of , something that might get her killed

shaquille hears the sliding glass door first before he feels the skin of kristen durus touching his hips , strong knuckles travelling along the sore skin as he feels her body press against his back . the length between his thighs twitches in response , eyes blink . head lifts off the wall as he accepts his lovers touch , leaning himself back into her chest , hands searching to find her own so he can wrap her arms around his waist , wanting to feel her hold him . what could he say? he was a romantic at heart

HƆⱯƎꓤꓘƆⱯꓶꓭ.

What is UP is not DOWN but she still feels her stomach in her throat as she eyes the world hidden in the underneath. To come to such a place alone is plausible for one such as her, of course, but... she feels better with the other by her side. Someone to watch her back. Another sword arm, another shout. @torntruth

IS SHE NOT THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH?

send 🌼 and i'll recommend a blog with beautiful writing

@perditus

the way i am SUCH a flowers fan should be studied. all of their muses have their own unique voice and style, like you can tell who they're writing from the way a thread reads, the vocabulary, the way they speak and what they notice/point out/focus on in a scene. also love it when they yap in a thread cause you just know they've got some good shit to say

@teethearted

absolutely love a good soft-seeming muse that's actually very much Not That asdkjhas Bunny is beautiful and sharp and i love to see it. shelle's writing is just so evocative and interesting, the kind that really paints a picture when you read it

@ischaron

hi i'm squeezing rian in my arms and twirling him around because the way i absolutely adore this cowboy reaper man !!! fork's writing is genuinely such a thematic homerun. every reply i read inevitably there's a line that just makes me go OHMYGOD YOU JUST DID THAT!! like just grabs me by the throat in the best way

@torntruth

there's such a rhythmic flow to aphelion's threads. like they're so good at the composition in writing, word choice and sentence length, structure, etc. coming together to make something that's almost musical. her formatting really helps to push it that little extra bit too

@freakarus

listen if i'm not yelling bestie's praises every 5 seconds i WILL explode so. here we are

soapy is an absolute legend in my head. she has such an amazing grasp on eddie and her writing is incredible. it truly pulls my into the world that she's describing, sits me right down in the middle of the scene and holds my head to make sure i don't miss a thing

Daud survived to turn another year.

That fact surprised him more than anything. After finally concluding his half-a-year's long journey to discover what the significance of 'Delilah' was from the Outsider's taunts, becoming embattled in a witch's conspiracy to usurp the Empire from within the body of Emily Kaldwin, defeating Delilah by imprisoning her within her own creations; Daud felt he had done more in those six months than any time in the last seventeen years of being Marked.

And he had done enough.

He'd inflicted his will on a world that had wronged him, and damned all of Dunwall in the process. Daud knew that it would catch up to him, in the form of Corvo Attano, but he wasn't going to simply submit to retribution. Any victory or defeat would have to be earned.

Corvo won. As was expected. Being let go? That was not expected.

Daud asked for his life, and it had been given. Granted, given barely intact, with a jarring wound to his spleen that refused to heal and almost did him in for good. If not for Thomas, the life he asked for wouldn't have been worth much at all.

They hunkered down together, hiding in the Academy grounds as the Month of Ice passed. Age forty-one turned forty-two, and another year 'round the sun concluded for Daud. He rebuilt his strength, focused on healing, consolidating resources, stealing, working on an exit plan, waiting for the right time to flee the city as it was coming to light his own role in the death of the Empress.

And come the Month of Timber, the perfect opportunity came with the coronation of the new Empress. The night before, he'd laid his sword at Jessamine's memorial within the gazebo at the Tower. It served as his gift to the girl he quietly saved, and his oath that he would not kill for coin. He would not kill again if he could help it.

The City Watch was concentrated around the Tower to oversee the young Empress' coronation, far from the edges of Dunwall- and far away from the docks of Drapers Ward. Daud abandoned the bright red garb of his Whaler uniform, trading it for the more muted brown and black leathers, and an oiled cloak with a heavy hood. He kept himself towards the rooftops, observing the streets below.

Dead Eels loading cargo. As usual, Thomas' information was spot-on.

The Undine sat in the water, idling with a hum as her engine rumbled, the smells of oil, rust, river muck, and brine mingled. And leaning on the rails of the top deck, its captain, Lizzy Stride, oversaw the movement of goods, more than ready to get the Eels back into action.

He clenched his fist, and called on the power of the Mark to transverse to the deck, outside of Lizzy's arm length. He appeared with a 'thwip' and rasped as he spoke.

🥇 ― well-developed oc

😍 ― admiring from afar

more positivity - always accepting!

🎀 ― all-around kind person

@protectxthem bluejay is such a sweetheart, i love him with my whole heart <33 one of my first mutuals over here, and i have not regretted a day!

🥇 ― well-developed oc

a tiny bit ironic, given the name and concept — @torntruth and mary-sue smith, who is a fascinating deconstruction of the mary-sue trope. i am lowkey obsessed with the idea and the character, and just ???? everything about her is so interesting and subversive and ugh. fantastic. Aphelion also plays a bunch of other amazing characters (canon and oc both!) so absolutely check them out! they also have a fantastic wonder woman @ofthemyscira so follow there, too bc yes.

😍 ― admiring from afar

Ailani knew that Sherry was behind this. “Knew” was a strong word, but the trio had been around each other long enough on that night that Ailani felt pretty confident in her assumption. Her choice to join the DSO had earned her a stern talking to from Ailani; that much had been expected.

As Shepard entered the mess, Garrus looked up from his dextro soda right at her and decided that she needed to know about an argument he had just gotten into with one of the other squad members. He had been down in the cargo bay where Vega was and the pair had gotten into about weightlifting, of all things. It had all started when the scarred turian saw the rather muscular James doing pull-ups. At first, he just watched in silence. After a moment, he shook his head lightly, causing the lieutenant to lower himself back down to the ground to ask him what he was looking at. From there the argument began. Shepard hadn't been there to personally witness the spat, so Garrus decided he would tell her about it before James got to her first.

"I don't care what James says," Garrus began. "He knows I'm stronger than him, he just doesn't want to admit it." He leaned back in his chair a little before continuing. "I might have skinny arms and legs, but I can bench more than you would think." He honestly couldn't tell if she was even listening to him at this point, but he decided to keep talking anyways. "It's not the size of the muscles, it's how you use them. He thinks that just because he's got massive biceps that he's stronger than me." He took another sip of his drink. "Wouldn't let me prove that I'm stronger."

The more he explained what had happened, the sillier it sounded, but he knew that if he didn't tell Shepard what really happened, the lieutenant would totally exaggerate the whole thing to try and make himself look better. At least, that's what Garrus assumed he would do. Humans seemed to enjoy taking things out of context or blowing them out of proportion, but they also seemed to like to downplay the severity of important things. They were a weird species compared to turians, who had an almost unshakeable drive to be loyal and honest at all times. Well, Saren was the exception. Most turians were honest to a fault.

"I said, 'if you think I'm so weak, let me pick you up, James.'" Garrus sighed. "What he doesn't know is that I can lift twice his weight, easy." The former Archangel raised up his shoulders in a light shrug. "Really, I don't think he wanted to be embarrassed in front of the rest of the people in the cargo bay." He stopped again, this time waiting to see what Shepard might have to say about all of this. He had gone over the most important details and laid out the facts, which was what was important. He wasn't about to let some man with overinflated biceps and an overinflated ego tell him what was what.

θ::|| @torntruth

Kassandra had just finished fastening the black vest, the silk fabric hugging her frame just right while still giving her the means to move around as needed. The sigh was an audible knife cutting through the quiet of dusk and immediately grabs the immortal's attention. She knows exactly what it was about, too. Turning to face the younger assassin, she bites the inside of her cheek.

She wants to say something, gods does she want to say something. Instead, she just smiles and holds her tongue for the moment.