#i have two wolves inside me. one of them wants to be top of the class / on top of research / at the gym / just full on go getter

[zici]

Right The Wrongs

Hey everyone, this was just supposed to be a hc, I thought up in the server(https://discord.gg/qAu8tqTjfQ) but it evolved into a fic(?). Please don’t mind any and all grammatical mistakes and typos, for I’m not proofreading the whole content. And a big thank you and love you to all the peeps from the server for live reacting❤️‍🔥😭🏃‍♀️✨

Part 1

So varadeva divorce happens and vara is with a baby. Now the baby is old enough to walk by the time deva breaks the seal. Now deva is brought to the court and he’s presented with two choices either hand over Aadhya as she has khansaars seal and take over his previous position of being the Salaar or yield his rights of being the Salaar, the shouranga heir and to cut off all ties with any Khansaarian until death. 

Relinquishing his right to the throne, Varadha and lastly unbeknownst to him, their daughter also. Jus when he puts the pen down. He hears a kids laugh from outside the room. He takes one look at vara. And starts sprinting towards the door. Vara quietly commands baba. And baba exits through another door. Deva is already out when he sees baba hiding someone from his view and walking to a room opposite to him.  A small hand peeks above babas shoulder. And deva let’s out a silent gasp and tries to reach for them. To turn baba around look at that someone. But before he could do that he’s being overwhelmed with men pushing him away. Any other day he would flick them off of him but today he’s mentally unstable. He sees baba getting inside the room. And vara appears at the doorway. Looks at him bitterly eyes red and closes the door. Deva is shouting at the top of his lungs. 

He’s pushed out of the Mannar mansion. He slaps his forehead for making the stupid decision of signing the papers. He’s not worried about a stupid piece of paper but what he’s worried about is vara will now have a reason to send his armies against him in case he tries to meet their kid breaching the contract. And armies he can handle, but their kid wouldn’t have a home to live in if their parents are at a war against each other. It starts to rain heavily and his tears disappearing in the rain droplets and walks and walks without any direction in mind he’s forgotten abt Aadhya Bilal and amma murmuring I’m sorry Varadha over and over again.

For next 7 years, Varadha is dealing with rebellions against his rule. And he can’t even bring deva back cause of the contract. Also his loyalists wolves in sheep clothing are waiting for a moment karta lets up and makes a mistake. One night vara with heavy heart goes to his daughter’s bedroom talks about her father, the Salaar of Khansaar, his husband and the only love of his life.  She’s very angry at deva and badmouths him but Vara admonishes her saying please don’t get angry at your father he loves appa so much and he loves you the double but she goes as if! he doesn’t even know me vara chuckles sadly brushing her hair out of her eyes bids her good night with a kiss on her forehead to behave good until he’s back attend classes and her training. The very next day she hears about Appa’s death as his tent had been ambushed by vedha, finally Radha Rama wins.

The entirety of Khansaar is thrown into chaos as karta Varadha is no longer alive. They know of the princess but she’s too young to get be installed as Karta. And all of Khansaar is eyeing the throne and they want the princess to be eliminated. Baba quickly absconds the Mannar mansion with the teenage princess without as much as mourning for Varadha. The shourangas welcome them with scorn for the one and only reason that the princess has shouranga blood flowing in her. Baba tries his level best to contact deva but in vain. The princess develops hatred against deva. For abandoning her, appa and baba.

It’s been seven years since then, baba has died, Radha Rama has claimed the throne and the princess presents herself as alpha on the fateful night they took up shelter in the shouranga territory. She’s 21 now and she’s craving for revenge, with deep rooted hatred for her Appa’s murderers and her father Deva. She’s 21 now and she’s craving for revenge, with deep rooted hatred for her Appa’s murderers and her father Deva. But it’s not as easy as it seems to be with them on the losing side so the princess descends into madness, and ambushes the dinner Karta Radha Rama schedules as a celebration for almost winning the battle effectively weeding out rebellions, alone.

She slashes all the pigs seated for a feast, throat parched with war cries, eyes red body drenched with the blood of her Appa’s murderers and murderers of her kin back in shouranga territory, bile rises up her throat to look at people ready to bite into flesh when their men are laying down lives in vain, ready to kill their siblings, ready to separate a daughter from her father. She finally goes up to Radha Rama, who looks up to the princess sneering still very much regal, white hair peeking out from her long braid and opens her mouth to talk but the princess slices her neck dejectedly saying You don’t have the right for last words, Auntie.

She walks out of the hall drenched in blood looking like Kateramma herself, setting fire the whole way to the throne room, she stands in the middle looking at the throne as her surroundings are engulfed by fire, lifts her sword up pointing to the throne and turns around slowly her sword now pointing to Deva who is now running towards her as she drops dead onto the floor. Deva runs into the fire holding the princess close to him wailing at the Gods standing tall in the throne room. The princess strictly commanded her army and kin to never let Deva know about Khansaar and most importantly Appa’s death , she said That man, who is not worthy to be called a father didn’t think twice before signing a stupid paper over a woman very much aware he would lose the right of calling Appa his husband, so why would he now run back when he hears about Appa’s death?! I don’t want his false show of tears nor his fake concern!

Deva has never looked back fearing Varadhas wrath and he first hand knows the evil reality of war and he doesn’t want his kid to grow up in a war ridden society and prays everyday for his husband and kid to live happily far away from him and the deaths he brings. He runs away to Ladakh drowns himself in alcohol and construction work. He had become a recluse. His only stops were home, work and the alcohol shop. He stares at the wall in his house replaying his last bitter farewell with his family time and again, how things would’ve been different if he hadn’t signed the papers, if he hadn’t stopped the seal and if he hadn’t left Varadha but nothing changes he’s still here in the dark about to doze off to a alcohol induced slumber instead of hearing his husband and kid calling him for dinner. One day, fourteen years later he gets a letter from Khansaar.

And it’s addressed to Devaratha Raisaar Shouryanga-Mannar, surprised he still has his birth and martial surnames intact. Hope glimmering in his eyes, thinking hundreds of possibilities that his husband has forgiven him and ready to have him back or their kid might be have been installed as a Dora or as Karta!? And he’s been invited for the ceremony but his racing mind suddenly stops at the first sentence; Karta Varadha Rajamannar had died 14 years ago. Radha Rama is now Karta. Your daughter had been leading us shouryangas and whatever traditional faction of Mannar is remaining to dethrone Rama. But victory is bleak. And she’s now determined to burn along with the entirety of Khansaar. She never listened to reason, it didn’t matter when it came avenging her Appa. We are not sure if anything of Khansaar will remain before this letter reaches you. Oh, her name is Devi.

Deva is on auto pilot, grabs his keys to his jeep, while covering his mouth and shouts into his palms muffling his angry wails, tears running down his face never blinking and starts his road journey to Khansaar, not stopping for sleep or food but only when the jeep is out of fuel or is broken down. His face swollen because of tears, not letting his mind think fearing he would break down and die in an accident before meeting his daughter their daughter it physically hurts him to even think about his love, he doesn’t deserve to.

He reaches Khansaar after 2 days of travelling which is splattered in red and covered in smoke, not a single soul around. He climbs the stairs leading to the sacred halls of throne room only to witness his signature sword pointed at him by an young woman with long black hair in tresses, and face streaked with kohl and covered in blood and starts sprinting towards her but then she drops onto the floor making his heart stop and legs to speed up not caring his for legs catching fire. He gathers Devi into his lap and finds that she already is dead. He loses his mind and cries and wails and beats his fists to the ground. Cursing Khansaar for their plight. Devi, you shouldn't have been named after me, says Deva regretfully.

He has lost both his husband and daughter at the same time. When exhaustion and lack of sleep catches him, he deliriously starts talking to Devi as if she were a baby. You have Varadhas nose! And my feet and hands! You will be inheriting Varadhas entire library filled with ancient scrolls and scriptures. And my weaponry! Everything belongs to you. I’ll take you to my favorite place tomorrow, it’s our secret place! Your Appa must be running late, but let’s first go to sleep? Then he closes his eyes clutches Devi tightly against himself as the flames are drawing in…

Deva opens his eyes, his cheeks wet with tears, finding himself back in their bed clutching Varadha tightly.

To be continued...

[stuckinapril]

What is a girl to do if she’s bad at driving but driving is literally relaxing to her

[thegnomelord]

speaking of unorthodox mating: scorpionflies! my favourite thanks to entomology and them being very useful 🦂 mainly because they mate on top of fresh corpses. wonder what ghost of any of 141 you choose from would react to such a colorful mate

I doubt any of them would be all that happy fucking on top of a dead dude, Ghost especially seeing he got stuck in a coffin with one before becoming a wraith, but you coming back to them, covered in dirt and so much enemy blood you look like a butcher? Oh yeah, instant boner.

CW:NSFW, reader is some kind of insect monster idk this is quick and rough

GHOST - The second he registers the blood on you, and the fact you shed blood to protect him, tickles something in his brain. It's the knowledge that despite him being able to protect himself, he has someone to look out for him. . . . it has something needy and hungry stirring inside him.

Before you know it he's pulling you to a secluded nook, claws made of solid shadow tearing your belt open so he can swallow your cock down, pearly tears smudging the dark face paint around his eyes as your cock pushes past his gag reflex, smiling around your length when you answer in a chitter of your mandibles, your claws gripping his head as you fuck his mouth.

SOAP - Oh, he's not even waiting to get somewhere private. Everything with wolves is a social affair so the second the enemy's dead and the bullets have stopped raining down on you two, he's right next to you, full body rubbing against you like a bear scratching against a tree. It makes his fur and your clothes matted with blood and werewolf hair, whining and growling for your attention as he scents you and grows progressively more aroused by the second because holy shit, you smell like death and war and such a potent mate.

It takes you serious effort to pull him somewhere more private before Price yells at you two, and before you can even open your pants Soap's already on the floor, head down and ass up, tail raised even higher and still wagging as slick leaks from his hole. He howls like a bitch when you push into him, going completely slack as soon as your sharp mandibles clamp down on his scruff — not enough to draw blood, but strong enough to hold him down as you plow into him.

GAZ - He's a lot more sneaky about his attraction, acting like a doting mate when you two sit in the plane back to base, wiping away the blood that had congealed on your wings and elytra, chirping so sweetly to every little chitter and click you make, fingers reverently tracing your bloodied mandibles to the point the other's are complaining about you two being an old married couple.

His moans are equally as sweet as he begs to feel those sharp mandibles around his throat as you fuck him into the mattress, his wings pinned down beneath him and fully trapped like he's a piece of meat for you to consume. It's the danger of what your dangerous mandibles can do added to the knowledge you'd never hurt him that has him cumming in record timing, chirps broken up by hiccups as you just continue to fuck him.

PRICE - Oh, he holds out the longest, face and tone of voice betraying nothing as he tells you to get cleaned up, while inside he's purring like a tractor. He knows he shouldn't feel like this, that it's more than wrong fraternizing with you when he's your captain, but the way you'd looked covered in blood does something to him.

His claws rake down your front as he rides you slow and deep, slitted pupils taking in every little twitch of your wings and click of the mandibles, your desperate moans stroking his draconic pride as you beg to let you cum. And Price just tuts, "Come on, wouldn't want to disappoint me now?" He says, voice like a honeyed sticky trap, and you can do nothing but nod your head and try to hold on while Price tests your sanity by riding you into the early hours of the morning.

[97keanu]

desperately wanting john wick to whisper filthy things to me in russian

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳I love this idea nonnie ! I have decided to do a list of phrases I've found + what scenario John would say them to you, disclaimer: I do not speak Russian, but I've tried to go beyond using just Google translate and the like, but there still may be discrepancies, please forgive ʚ♥︎ɞ

Tags/CW: rope bunny, Dom!JW, Sub!Reader, bratty!reader, bdsm-esque, reader tries to Dom JW, reader on top, teasing, denial, dirty talk.

Зайка моя ("My bunny"): John calls you this the most, he loves the idea of you being his little bunny, and he also likes that he can get away with calling you something so cute because you have no idea at first what he's saying. Light teasing from you when you find out he's been calling you his "bunny" for so long:

"Oh, so if I'm your little bunny, does that make you the big bad wolf?" You say with a smile, teasing John for his pet name for you.

"Oh yes, yes it does..." John plays along, moving close enough to you that he grab you from behind and pull you close.

"Don't forget that wolves bite, Зайка моя..." His teeth nibble at your neck before dragging you, who's giggling from all the attention, off to the bedroom.

мое солнышко ("My sunshine"): John calls you this after sex the most, or only in the most tender of cases. He really does believe you are his own personal ball of sun. He hasn't felt this happy in so long, and upon meeting you, he knows that you are the light in his life. John doesn't mind if you know it, either. He calls you his sun in English as well, but when you two are cuddled up, the night settling in, John will sleepily call you "мое солнышко".

моя принцесса ("My princess"): John uses this one almost exclusively when you're being a brat, typically in bed. He calls you this half sarcastically, half because he really will do anything to please you.

"What are you going to do, make me, John?" You tease him when he tries to command you. You really shouldn't have done that.

"Careful, моя принцесса, you know what happens when you tease me." Johns voice is trying to be gruff, but he also loves seeing you have fun. Only after a few more bratty comments does he finally show his princess how she really needs to be treated.

шлюха ("whore") / шлюшка(diminutive "little whore"): John uses this one often, forgetting himself while he's fucking you. You know this one too well, and when he says it, you love how degrading it sounds. He tells you most while he holds the back of your head roughly down on his cock how much you look like a "шлюшка" to him. He eventually teaches you how to say it as well:

"I won't let you cum until you tell me what you are..." John has his hands skillfully playing with your pussy while you're all tied up in a little bow for him on the bed. You know what he wants, but don't want to give in. His hands move just perfectly so you get so close, but stop just before then. Your moans echo through the room.

"I'll wait, we can play this game forever, love." John knows you know this to be true, he works his big hands inside you harder now, and you can barely sputter the phrase out.

"Yes, please! I'm your шлюха, your шлюшка!" You cry out as John finishes you, your body writhing in it's restraints. John looks so pleased with you for saying it correctly.

"Good girl." He says as he begins to help you calm down.

Для меня ты ведешь себя как маленькая шлюха ("You're acting like such a little whore for me." Literally: "To me, you are acting like a little whore.")

John says this when you're particularly submissive to him. Sometimes you're a bit of a brat who wants to act like she doesn't love being John's little rope bunny, but now you're practically begging him to fuck you. You're riding his thigh, he's fully clothed but you've taken your panties off from under your dress and are making such a mess of his nice dress pants. He watches you, never revealing whether or not he will be the one to please you tonight.

"Для меня ты ведешь себя как маленькая шлюха..." He says while rolling his eyes, taking a sip of his drink and watching as you desperately try to get off on his thigh. He finally caves and puts his glass down on the side table, lifting you up and taking you to the couch where he can properly fuck you.

я хочу быть сверху("I want to be on top."):

You spend some time searching up the perfect way to tell John that you want to be on top tonight. You know he will be coming home from a long day and want to do something to please him. The brat in you also knows that John will be thrilled at you attempting "superiority" over him. When John finally gets home, he is immediately taking off his suit, ignoring how dirty and blood stained it is. He grabs you as soon as he sees you, pulling you to the nearest surface he can to fuck you, which happens to be the couch. As John's devouring your body in kisses, you say it.

"я хочу быть сверху..." You whisper and John pauses, looking at you in disbelief for a moment. First, he is impressed by how well you said the phrase, then his eyes darken with a hint of mischief.

"So you want to be on top..." He says slyly, licking his lips like a hungry wolf. "So be it, let me see how well you think you can dominate me."

"You mean it?" Your eyes light up, half of you didn't expect him to agree.

"On one condition, if you fail to fuck me correctly, I will tie you up and show you how it's done..." His voice is deep and husky with desire, and you know he's setting you up, but the idea of him tying you up later doesn't sound like a bad thing, not really. You nod and begin placing yourself on top, slowly easing up there.

You hold his cock still as you softly let it enter you, and John already has a wicked gleam in his eyes. You keep going, placing your hands on his chest and trying to ride him as if you're the one dominating him, but even at your best on top you're still submitting to his cock. John grabs his tie from the floor and you already know what he is going to do, so you place your hands out in front of you. He ties your hands up, then takes your hips and fucks you from underneath so hard the neighbors can hear it. You realise you can never dominate him, but that doesn't stop you from asking to be on top from time to time after this.

Я ХОЧУ ТЕБЯ ВНУТРИ МЕНЯ("I want you inside me.")

You learn another phrase, this one more your style. John is teasing you once more, his cock hard and slipping through your wet folds, but never entering you. You're whining, grinding your hips and bucking to try to invite him in, but your arms are all tied up behind you. He has your breasts tied as well, bringing them to perfect roundness. John reaches out and plays with your nipples, plucking at them and pulling just how you like, still not letting you feel the fullness of his cock. You are at your breaking point when you remember the phrase.

"Я ХОЧУ ТЕБЯ ВНУТРИ МЕНЯ...!" You finally moan, your back arching and your toes curling from how badly you want it. John pauses and smiles.

"Oh, you're such a good girl for asking like that." he says, before plunging his cock deep inside you, giving you what you want. You breathe out, finally able to be fucked hard like you wanted.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jack Howl - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Jack: Oh, this painting has wolves in the snow chasing an intruder that was romping through their territory. Very brave of them.

Jack: And this painting… Ah, it's a wolf that raised an orphaned baby. Didn't know one did that.

Jack: There's so many wolves to be proud of.

Jack: ―Ah, oops. I can't help lingering whenever I see a painting of wolves. Since they invited me all the way out here, I should take a look at the other stuff as well.

Jack: Hm? What's that painting of those animals over there…?

???: Oho? This is quite the tasteful art piece.

Jack: Oh you're… Malleus-senpai. So, you like this one, too?

Malleus: Indeed. It is truly a scene to behold that I could not help myself stopping before it.

Malleus: The sight of the baboon walking through the throng of animals, all whom have their heads bowed, is majestic and beautiful… Whatever could they be doing there?

Jack: I think this is… Yeah, a depiction of when all the animals gathered to celebrate the birth of their prince.

Jack: The baboon in the center there was respected by all the other animals as a real capable sorcerer.

Jack: Not only was he an amazing mage, he was also good at drawing, and was real strong, too.

Jack: Don't you think that's amazing? It's only natural that he'd remain in the history books, especially being that skilled.

Malleus: True, those with exceptional talents have a charming tendency to attract the attention of others.

Malleus: And you, Howl, seem to have quite the font of knowledge, with how you to readily are able to answer my queries...

Jack: Heh, I just a thing or two about the history of animals, since I'm a beastman, and all. Back when I was a kid, I'd have a ton of picture books, and I'd hear all about them.

Jack: But I think it was the tales of the King of Beasts that really made me actually go to the library and want to study more on it.

Jack: Take the fact that he was the leader of his pride. He must've been a head above everyone else in all his abilities.

Malleus: Heh… I'm certain that was the case. At any rate, it sounds to me as though this conversation has lit a fire inside of you.

Malleus: You seem to have some form of attachment to the King of Beasts.

Jack: I wouldn't say attachment… I just respect the way he pursued his life.

Malleus: Respect, I see. Well then, have you ever thought of seizing the position of pack leader as the King of Beasts did?

Jack: Nah. I don't like being part of a pack, and I'm not one for leadership.

Malleus: Oho? I was under the impression that wolves hunted in packs.

Jack: If we have the same end goal, sure, I'll team up with whoever. But it's not like I'll obediently wag my tail for everyone.

Jack: A pack leader needs to be wiser and more responsible than anyone else.

Jack: If the guy at the top makes the wrong judgement, then everyone else will suffer.

Malleus: So, you consider "wisdom" to be the key trait of a leader?

Jack: I mean, it's not enough to just be wise. They also have to be physically strong. There are folk out there that'll use sly and cowardly methods to do what they want.

Jack: If they don't have the strength to completely crush 'em down, they're not worthy of that spot at the top.

Malleus: Heh… You sure do tout some lofty expectations, Howl.

Jack: I just don't like compromising. And, since these are expectations, there'd be no point into setting them so low in the first place.

Jack: Sometimes people say I'm overly conscious, or a pain to deal with, but… So what?

Jack: No matter what anyone else might say, I follow what I believe in. I decided that long ago.

Malleus: Heh, I see that you're a rather stubborn one, Howl. However, I cannot say that pride is a terrible thing to have.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Jack: So, this museum also has a painting of a young lady wishing at a well, huh.

Jack: Back home… I mean, in the Shaftlands, you'd see this pretty much everywhere, but it's been a while since I've laid eyes on one, myself.

Malleus: Hm? Is this painting that well known in the Shaftlands?

Jack: Not really this painting, so much as the actual story behind it. To the point where you'd see artwork based on it displayed all over the country.

Jack: You'll get people tryin' to make a wish in the well like she does, too.

Jack: My little sister'll run to a well every time she sees one. Not like there's any proof that it'll grant her wish, but she still does.

Malleus: You make it sound as though you've never wished upon a well, Howl.

Jack: Uh, well… I did try when I was a kid… But only once.

Malleus: Oho, and why was that?

Jack: At the moment I tried to cast my wish, I fell into the well…

Jack: At the time, I was a little too short to look over the edge of the well. So, I tried to hoist myself over the rim, but I put a little too much oomph into it.

Jack: It was an old well, so there wasn't any water, but a huge pile of fallen leaves, so I didn't get hurt… But it did startle me pretty bad then.

Jack: On top of that, that well was in the middle of the forest, where people didn't really walk past. No matter how hard I yelled, no one came by.

Malleus: What misfortune. However, as you are standing here before me today, I must assume that someone did indeed come and save you.

Jack: Nope, I got out by myself. Luckily, the inside of the well had real blocky walls, so I was able to use them as footholds as I climbed out.

Jack: But that definitely wasn't easy. Back then, I wasn't training or nothing, so I didn't really have any muscles, either.

Jack: I thought I was going to fall so many times, but somehow, I got out of there…

Jack: As soon as I got out of the well, I collapsed, 'cause I was so exhausted and just couldn't move for a while.

Jack: I really thought I was in a huge pinch there, but… At the same time, I was also a pretty impressed.

Malleus: Impressed…?

Jack: Yeah. I was having trouble just climbing up to the edge of the well in the first place, but then I was able to climb the whole well up to the surface.

Jack: I was able to do something that I didn't think I'd be able to do. That means that any wish can be granted…

Jack: SO LONG AS I HAVE STRENGTH AND MUSCLES!!!

Jack: So, basically, anytime I'd have extra time that would have otherwise been spent wishing on a well, I just worked out, instead.

Malleus: Fufu, you truly found an extreme approach… But I see. Essentially, this incident was not completely misfortunate.

Jack: Yeah, I'd say so. I think I'm how I am now, because of what happened there.

Jack: Now that I'm thinking of why I got into all this training, I kind of want to work out now.

Jack: When I get back to campus, I'm going to throw myself into my training even more, so that I can overcome anything I encounter with my own power!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Jack: The Queen of Hearts, huh… I feel like I see her depicted alongside animals a lot.

Malleus: True. However, that is a rather unusual bird.

Malleus: It appears to be a flamingo; however I've never seen a lime green one in my life.

Jack: From what I heard, in the country that the Queen of Hearts ruled over there were flamingos of various colors, not just pink.

Jack: When Heartslabyul do their traditional croquet tournaments, they use magic to color the animals to match this tale.

Malleus: Oho? You certainly know much about this.

Jack: Me and those two from Ramshackle got invited by Ace and Deuce to play croquet with them, so…

Jack: It's just something I heard back then.

Jack: …Ugh, man. Talking about it reminded me of how I lost pretty bad then.

Malleus: Those in Heartslabyul are quite familiar with croquet. Is it not surprising to lose to them?

Jack: Even if I've never played it before, I'm usually pretty good at any sport I try. Only…

Jack: The croquet they play in Heartslabyul has real weird rules, and you need to get the animals to work with you.

Jack: During our game, the flamingo and hedgehogs were nervous only with me, so they didn't move like I was hoping they would.

Jack: They weren't scared of Grim and [Yuu], even though they were also playing with us...

Jack: The fact that I lost without being able to do anything really frustrates me.

Jack: Or more like… Can that game even be called a sport, in the first place?

Malleus: Certainly, I would agree that it is a far cry different from what one would consider an ordinary sport. I was also surprised when I first observed it.

Jack: You think so too, right!? It's just weird, needing to work alongside the animals like that...

Jack: Seeing that all the sport-loving types in my dorm haven't ever played it before…

Jack: I really don't think they could even be put in the same category. But I can't deny that I did lose the game.

Jack: When the next time comes that I play croquet with them, I can't show a terrible display like that again.

Jack: So that just means that I have to keep up in my Animal Linguistics classes!

Malleus: I see. So, ever since you lost, you've been continuing to improve yourself.

Malleus: They do say that the languages of smaller animals is rather difficult to absorb. Good for you, putting your all into even a mere game.

Jack: That's 'cause I don't want to lose the same game twice. Next time, I'll make Ace and Deuce lose face.

Malleus: Fufu, I shall hope for your efforts to be successful.

Malleus: ―Well then, I shall make my way to a different exhibit. You should also make an effort to look at some more of your favorite paintings.

Jack: …There he goes. He just does his own thing, huh? I really don't know what goes through his head.

Jack: Well, whatever. I guess I'll head towards another exhibit too. …Hm? This painting…

Jack: Ah, a lion prince, and his hornbill attendant. Heh, how can such a pathetic lookin' lion really become king?

Jack: I'll only ever accept someone strong. If they're to be king, they need to have the power to crush all greedy and sleazy people down.

Requested by Anonymous.

[maximotts]

𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢; 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble and it turned into a very long part of my originally planned Christmas fic. sOOO.. you're welcome (and yes I did co-opt Wanda and Vision's thing at the beginning because I can and I wanted to)

request: @wandasdolly; okay so hear me out… festive wandanat sex by the fireplace… and there’s blankets and wine and probably christmas music playing and i am just being horny anyway bye😁

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

wc: 4.2k

summary: Private Hire: Origins AU; This is an 18+ only work, minors DNI; smut, fluff; cozy and romantic living room sex, fingering, oral, cum strap because I'm a feral homosexual, Natasha has two wolves inside her: one that's horny for Wanda and the other that's disgustingly in love with her, cuddly aftercare and a lot of feelings at the end because this is me and well, I've been wanting to write this for a long time

private hire au. || main masterlist.

"Wanda, darling..."

"Natasha, sweetheart?" Wanda struggled to keep her weight on just one arm, her other bent to keep her glass of wine upright. She'd been in the middle of taking another sip when Natasha leaned in to kiss her cheek, cutting her drink short to replace cool glass with her lips. "What are you doing?"

The redhead chuckled against her skin, leaving lipstick marks along Wanda's jaw as she continued her trek. "You're a smart girl. What do you think I'm doing?"

Elegant piano versions of classic Christmas songs played low in the background, Natasha having insisted on pulling out her records for the living room scene she'd set. Thick blankets laid over the carpeted floor, fire crackling over wooden logs nestled in their large fireplace, Natasha surprised Wanda with a cozy night alone for the holidays. It was a sweet gesture for the typically stoic one of the pair, the kind of thing Wanda loved more than anything especially during her favorite time of year.

"If I had to guess, I'd say you're up to something..." As Wanda spoke, Natasha pressed forward, kissing down her neck as she turned it to the side and allowed her further access. The moment she felt her girlfriend's hands on her hips, she expected some kind of removal of her silk pajama top, but it never came. 

Instead, when Nat's mouth reached the last bits of exposed skin over her sternum, they traveled over the fabric and nuzzled into Wanda's chest where she always felt most safe and secure. "You should set your wine down before you spill it."

Wanda looked down then, raising a confused brow to the woman too preoccupied with reverently kissing the swells of her breasts to notice being watched. "I'm not going to spill- oh..."

The glass met the stone fire hearth with a hard clank, Wanda's hand shaky as Natasha's lips wrapped around a covered nipple. Both arms had to support her now, Nat tugging her closer and leaving her at a somewhat awkward angle- it was hard to care while her girlfriend licked over the semi-hard bud. Both of them knew how sensitive she was, Natasha exploiting it at every turn when she needed Wanda breathless and pliable as quickly as possible, but this was different. 

This was slow, careful, tongue rolling over her in a teasing promise of what was to come before she switched to the other, not wanting to neglect any part of Wanda. "You're going to ruin my shirt..."

"They're pajamas, you'll get over it." She'd been bouncing around for weeks arranging everything —buying this house to get away from bustling city streets, the type of home Wanda sighed over whenever they drove by, giving explicit instructions to not be disturbed unless someone was dying of in danger of it— all of this for Wanda's Christmas gift. Nothing was going to get in the way of Natasha making the most of their time together. 

And so only when Wanda began to whine, needing more after being wound up painfully slowly, did Natasha guide the brunette to lay back. She undid the row of tiny buttons blocking her top half from view before sliding matching bottoms down to her ankles, calloused fingers dragging down skin so soft Natasha felt blessed to touch it. Wanda kicked the pants off herself, moved to rid herself of her underwear, the last piece of clothing that kept her from being fully exposed, but Natasha stopped her. 

She sat back on her knees to get a good look at her, long hair splayed out atop the quilt where Wanda lay prone, wide green eyes a little hazy from the alcohol, but playful nonetheless as she smiled up at Natasha; she swore she felt her heart leap. Maybe she paused too long because manicured fingernails dug into Natasha's thighs, Wanda having grown impatient, "What are you staring at?"

"You," Natasha said without hesitation, tracing the shadows the fire made over Wanda's abdomen with her pointer finger, "You're beautiful and I don't think I tell you that enough." Wanda blushed a deep pink and went to shake her head, but Nat was quick to hold her chin still and force her to take the compliment. "You're beautiful and I love you and I need you to remember that."

Wanda could've made some snarky remark about how dramatic Natasha was being, how she didn't have to say that stuff just to get in her pants, but the words she heard choked her up. Manipulative as she could be, Natasha would never lie to Wanda, not about that, and in the short seconds she managed to make eye contact with the woman above her, Wanda saw only sincerity in her loving gaze. "Show me."

Natasha closed the distance quickly, kissing Wanda until she was breathless and nearly lightheaded. When she descended this time it was with teeth scraped over her collarbone and nibbles that were sure to leave a mark. Pointedly ignoring Wanda's breasts until an insistent hand pulled her by her hair to them, Natasha bit down harder than she needed to, the brunette squeaking and squirming as Nat soothed the blossoming red bruise with a series of apologetic licks. "I'll be wearing turtlenecks until that goes away, Nat."

"It's winter anyways, too cold to show off." She was content to let Wanda rock against her thigh while she played, sucking and licking each nipple and rolling whichever one she couldn't have in her mouth with her fingers, always a game to see how fast Natasha could make her cum just like that. But today was for more than that and as Nat's free hand dipped lower, snapping the sides of Wanda's panties against her hips, she couldn't bring herself to be too disappointed hanging up her mischievous hat for one night.

Pushing insistent hips to still on the ground, curious fingers dipped between Wanda's legs and found a sizable spot on that last piece of her clothing; a telltale sign of her arousal. "You're so wet, baby. Is that all for me? Because I made you dinner and got your favorite wine, or did I play with your tits so much you're already close to cumming?"

Wanda hated and loved when Natasha called attention to her like so; hated for how cocky her girlfriend got no matter what her response and loved for the way that kind of talk tightened that coil in her belly, a true double-edged sword. Keeping her ego in check was a 24/7 job,  but Wanda had to admit it was kind of cute to see Natasha so visibly proud of herself. "Both, now touch me before I do it myself and make you watch."

"Oh honey," Natasha cooed, easily moving the thin lace to the side and sliding two fingers along Wanda's folds, "you know you'd only be begging me to do it for you the entire time." 

Confident fingertips toyed with Wanda's clit, moving in time with the ones still firmly at her chest, Nat grinning wide while Wanda's back arched involuntarily and she cried out, her first orgasm a sudden and unplanned surprise. 

As her head swam, Wanda recalled the short video she'd sent Natasha just a few days prior, motivation to come home after she'd gotten word the older woman was held up and would be back later than planned. In it, she'd fucked herself on her newest vibrator, a toy she knew Natasha was itching to see Wanda use— she didn't realize she'd called out Natasha's name until after she pressed the send button. Soft and desperate, pleading for her girlfriend and her help on pure instinct... Natasha wasn't going to let that go unnoticed. 

In this particular instance, the shock of it all left Wanda's mouth open in a silent scream; gorgeous as she was, Natasha wanted to hear her name again. Thankfully she was far from done. 

Wanda's underwear joined her pants in a heap next to them before Natasha kissed her way back up the expanse of Wanda's bare legs, holding them apart to selfishly drink in the sinful sight of her lover spread open just for her. "Have I mentioned how pretty you are, Wands?"

The girl only rolled her eyes, brushing off her gawking to tug at Natasha who was still fully clothed. "I want to see you too." 

She wasn't shy about her body, Wanda having seen it countless times over the few years they've known one another, but she never failed to be surprised when Wanda asked. Before her and even at the beginning of her, the sex she had was quick and detached, clothes askew and shoved aside to get to the point; when Wanda demanded more from her, Natasha was too head over heels to deny the request. 

Especially on nights such as these where she focused on Wanda alone, she never liked to be the only one naked and so Natasha obliged, shedding her pajama shirt and letting her girlfriend's hands roam at will. Wanda sat up then, taking her turn to kiss every inch of skin she could reach, fingertips lovingly skirting over every cut and scar Natasha sustained over the years. "I think you're plenty beautiful yourself, you know."

She knew Natasha wouldn't let it last long, not when a brush between her legs revealed the thick strap on set firmly in place on her hips, but the brevity didn't stop Wanda from wanting to show what appreciation she could anyways. "And this is for me, I'm assuming."

"Depends, do you want it to be?" Natasha rocked against Wanda's as she rubbed over the fake cock, the textured base of the toy perfect for giving some much needed attention to her neglected sex. She rarely talked about how much it turned her on just to make Wanda fall apart, but honestly, it made her insatiable. Even getting to watch the display she doubted Wanda knew she was putting on, wiggling against the blankets as she palmed her strap with such anticipation she had to bite her lip to keep from immediately asking for it... Nat could've cum on the spot.

Wanda's hand stilled, bringing her eyes back up to meet Natasha's, mirthful expression so cute the redhead fought the urge to pinch her cheeks, "I thought you hated dumb questions." 

Natasha laughed at that, reluctantly pulling Wanda away and pushing her back once more so that she could rid herself of her own pants before leaning over Wanda until their chests were pressed together, "It's not a dumb question if I'm asking. Do you want it?" 

She rolled her pelvis against Wanda's slowly, deliberately sliding the strap on against Wanda's wet folds as she fought to keep still. Wanda knew what she was doing and it wasn't fair, forcing Wanda to beg for something on what was supposed to be a romantic night where Natasha usually gave without asking— it wasn't a habit her girlfriend could kick easily. "Yes..."

"Yes what?" Nat took that sweet pressure away and replaced it with her fingers, pushing one digit past her entrance without warning. It didn't hurt, but Wanda whimpered anyways, the sudden intrusion catching her off guard. A second finger joined the first soon after, steadily stretching Wanda until she was ready to speak her wishes. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, whatever it is." 

"I-I..." Forming sentences was hard when two fingers were fucking her open, fast and rough even as Natasha's words stayed even-paced and calm. It was too much and not enough, even as those devious fingers curled, hitting that one spot that drove Wanda to madness. She didn't want to be so close again, not without her girlfriend's strap buried deep inside her; all she had to do was say it. "I want you to fuck me! Nat, please, I'm gonna-!"

"You're gonna what? Cum again?" Wanda nodded, desperately trying to stave off her impending orgasm, but Natasha never let up. When the girl's mewling gave away her stubbornness, Nat cradled her flushed cheek in her hand, thumb running over kiss-swollen lips. "Let go for me, sweet thing. Let me see you cum just like this and I'll give you what you really want." 

It was only a few seconds longer that she lasted, arms drawn tight around Natasha's neck as she rode out her orgasm. This one was stronger than the last, longer and fuller, and Wanda was glad to already be laid out where her muscles could safely give way. 

As soon as Nat's fingers pulled out, her strap pushed in, thicker than her digits and inching ever deeper until her lover bottomed out with a low grunt. "Shit, Wanda..."

Long legs wound around Natasha's waist as Wanda adjusted to the stretch, both keeping her close as she could and giving her girlfriend a better angle to grind against the toy's base, willing to endure the temporary discomfort if it meant hearing more of Nat's swears and the occasional praises that came with them. "Tasha... fuck me."

Gentle command as it was, Natasha moved, slow at first until she could go without resistance, finding just the right pace as she left messy kisses down Wanda's throat. "This what you wanted?"

"Again with the dumb questions," Wanda bypassed a real response in favor of pulling the redhead closer, dragging red lines down her back with blunt fingernails as Natasha hit the perfect angle. It felt so right, like everything did when it was with her; the singular person Wanda trusted to see her at her most vulnerable. "Right there, don't stop!"

"Here?" Natasha accented her question with a particularly hard thrust, Wanda's exaggerated groan immediately giving her her answer. A few more pointed movements of her hips and Wanda might have well been a puddle on the floor, babbling any number of incoherent pleas Natasha could only just make out as Sokovian. 

"What's the matter, Wanda, can’t talk straight with your pussy stuffed full of my cock? Poor baby.” She couldn't help but play into it, to drive her further into the subspace that was for Natasha's eyes only. Wanda looked like she wanted to say something back, probably some half-hearted distaste for Natasha’s vulgarity, but she couldn’t pretend not to love it. Not when the same woman tugged her hips upwards to keep hitting that same spot now threatening to make her drool, her eyes rolling back into her head as she mumbled and reached for Natasha. 

On her third orgasm, she was terribly sensitive and didn't have a hope of lasting long even if she tried. Natasha drew it out as long as she could, working her way to her own climax right along with the woman below. Wanda preferred it that way, always wanting to share her ecstasy with the person she loved most; it was sweetest to her watching the same pleasure she felt wash over her lover at the same time. “Fuck, Wanda, you feel amazing.. I’m so close..”

Natasha’s head dropped into the crook of Wanda’s neck and she was quick to bury her fingers in thick red locks, uncaring of how hard she pulled as she neared her end once more. “Cum with me Tasha, please, please-!” 

Their joined climax was a flurry of kisses and sighs, Wanda clinging to Natasha for dear life as a gush of liquid slipped deep inside her, some added thing to her girlfriend’s new toy that only added to the fullness she felt. Natasha’s hips had yet to still, rutting into Wanda for as long as her orgasm let her. When she did come down, she held tight to Wanda, squeezing her limp form and kissing her shoulder until the other woman protested her suffocation. “Sorry…” 

When Wanda opened her eyes it was to Natasha’s shy smile and she giggled, granting her a quick peck on the nose before Nat pulled back. “You’re quite cute when you’re clingy.” 

“I’m not cute.” Natasha sat back on her knees, lazy eyes dropping from Wanda’s exhausted gaze to where she was now glistening in the firelight, a mixture of her arousal and the toy’s lubricant dripping from her abused entrance. She was gathering it on her fingers without a second thought, moaning as she pushed it back in and slowly let her digits drift back inside. Nat studied Wanda as she toyed with her, checking for signs of discomfort or even pain; when none came, she figured she might as well ask for the one thing she wanted. “Can I taste you, my love? I’ll be quick.”

Wanda nodded, her eyes already falling closed again, “Be gentle.” It was an easy enough request to abide by and Nat laid kisses down Wanda’s abdomen as a thank you, soft and adoring little things over her lower belly, willing her girlfriend to relax when her lips finally reached the top of her mound. She was flat on her stomach now, inspecting Wanda up close to commit the sight to memory— Natasha would spend all night filling Wanda up just to watch it seep out and fuck it back in again if she’d let her, but that was for some other time. 

Her tongue was careful as it licked over her hole, mindful of Wanda’s shivers and quivering thighs, but she tasted divine and soon enough Natasha was taking every bit of her she could get. “You’re always so good for me, Wanda, so perfect…”

The only response she received was a pleased hum, a sound made comfortably enough that Natasha continued on in stride, turning her attention to Wanda’s swollen clit. Loving sets of kitten licks left Wanda’s hips stuttering, Natasha wrapping her lips around it and sucking only because she knew when she let up there’d be a fresh pool of wetness waiting for her. She continued her little cycle until Wanda weakly pushed her away with a strained whine, “Too sensitive, hurts…”

Instantly worried, Natasha was off in a flash, giving the exhausted woman a thorough once over. She’d been so careful, but even so, if she’d done something harmful, she’d never forgive herself. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” 

“I’m perfectly okay, Nat.” Wanda shook her head, running her hands over her girlfriend’s thighs to reassure her now frantic state. “Don’t overreact, I’m fine. Barely awake, but I feel great.” Nat breathed an audible sigh of relief, but kept her distance, giving Wanda the space she hated having after sex. Her outstretched arms reminded Natasha yet again how much of a cuddler her partner was, another activity she only ever indulged when it came to Wanda. 

She scooped her up along with a blanket, wrapping Wanda in a warm bundle before letting her lay on her chest; the brunette’s favorite way to be held when she was tired and reorienting herself. Rarely did she say anything which was more than fine for the other woman who tended to exist in silence unless prompted, but something about tonight compelled Natasha to speak up. “I love you.”

“Yes, I know,” Wanda chuckled, giving Natasha a quick squeeze as she sleepily watched the dimming fire. Nat took her hand though, catching her attention as she played with it in her own. All day her partner had been so… odd; not in any way Wanda could complain about with the gift of this house, dinner, and everything else, but she had to admit it was completely out of character. “I love you too.”

“No, I…” She felt stupid even trying to say it, having shown it as best she could and most likely doing more than enough to prove her point, but the truest words were always the hardest ones for Natasha to convey. “I’m in love with you. I’m so in love with you that it makes me feel like an idiot.”

“You’re being a little silly, sweetheart. We should probably go to bed-” A kiss cut Wanda off, bold and full of a strange uncertainty that caught her off guard. She could still taste herself on Natasha’s lips from earlier and as she was pulled impossibly closer, Wanda feared her spine would break if the arms around her held any tighter.

Nat gave her just enough space, her forehead pressed against Wanda’s as their heavy breaths mingled. “Marry me.” 

Wanda’s once half lidded eyes flew open, scooting back from Natasha to stare at her in disbelief. She’d been with her girlfriend long enough to know when she was joking; Wanda didn’t know if it scared her more not to see any evidence of that in her or not. “Natalia, don’t…”

“Don’t do that, don’t pull away. I mean it!” There was no point in being on one knee when they were both sat on the ground so Natasha just shuffled closer, taking Wanda’s hand back and holding it in her own shaky ones. “I want to live in this house here, with you, and come back here every night to call this our home. I never want to think about having another Christmas without you right by my side or any other holiday that in all honesty, I think are stupid, but you love. I want to see your face light up when I surprise you and kill whatever makes you cry. Hell, I even like cuddling now when it means holding you. I want you to marry me.” 

She didn’t know what to say, effectively stunned into silence at Natasha’s confession. In all the ways Wanda imagined a proposal as a little girl, it was never naked in a blanket on the floor of some American home in New York, being asked by a woman who she loved as much as she butt heads with. Far from her wildest dreams, but Wanda had long stopped having those. “Ask me.”

“What?” Pleased as she was Wanda didn’t yell or bolt from the room as she’s been known to do, her response wasn’t the enthusiastic yes Natasha hoped for. 

“You said you want to marry me, so ask me.” Wanda stared at Natasha blankly, expectantly until the other woman got the hint. Her instinct was to roll her eyes, remark that Wanda couldn’t ever just take a gesture for what it was, no, she had to be difficult about it; she knew this about her and none of it made Natasha want her any less.

And so she straightened up, holding Wanda’s hand firmly now, and asked the question Wanda thought she’d never hear. “I’ve said it a thousand times today, but I’ll say it a thousand more if you ask me to: I love you. So much so that I’m asking you to marry me without buying you a ring because I couldn’t bear one more day without knowing you’ll be mine for the rest of our lives. We fight sometimes and we’re both so stubborn, I’m sure we’ll never stop having our disagreements, but you’ll also never stop being the only person I trust with everything I have. I’m not good with the words that actually matter and you know that so please don’t make me do this again; will you marry me, Wanda Maximoff?”

Wanda didn’t like crying, hated when it happened and even more so when Natasha was around to see it, but this time she’d caused it and Wanda was too overwhelmed with emotion to hold back her sob. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

She flung herself back into Natasha’s arms, a sweaty mess of tears and the smell of sex, but Nat caught her anyways, rubbing her back as Wanda cried. Unfortunately, Natasha hadn’t thought through how emotional Wanda tended to get; she’d barely bargained for her own stumbling before opening her mouth. “You’re too tired to be crying like this, you’ll pass out.” 

“You’d take care of me,” Wanda mumbled, curling into Natasha’s lap as she tried to settle herself down. It took a while, longer because the brunette refused to quit kissing her new fiancee to properly catch her breath. When she finally did, her wide smile was still plastered on her face and Natasha found it contagious, a similar expression stuck on her own mouth. “That was quite an adorable proposal, Miss Romanoff.”

Natasha raised a brow, wiping the last remnants of tears from Wanda’s pink cheeks with a disgruntled huff, “If you tell anyone about that, I’ll make sure they can’t speak a word of it to anyone else.”

“Does that include-”

“That especially includes Sam. Not a word or I’m taking my proposal back.” Wanda laughed, not believing a single thing that came out of her grumpy wife-to-be’s mouth. Natasha was so protective of her steel-cut persona, so few people heard anything different and even fewer actually saw it. Wanda, on the other hand, loved spilling secrets to their friends and more than once, Natasha caught herself being the topic of conversation; they never let her live those moments down. “Not a single word, I mean it. I bet I can sell this house too.”

[c0ffinshit]

Smut/Romantic Headcanons: Nathan Bratt

a/n: hey guys, i’m actually working on a longer fic about nathan but its taking WAY longer than i wanted so have this to tie you over im sorry T_T

warnings: smut (duh), nathan being a switch and a bit of a slut

- okay so like this man claims to not be a romantic but literally WAKES UP AND BREATHES ROMANTIC

- if you get in a fight with him, he will write you a note about how sorry he is and buy a bouquet of your favorite flowers

- also GUILTY. HE WILL FEEL SO GUILTY ABOUT THE FIGHT.

- this man needs to be reassured 24/7

- he is also a bit clingy

- like that man has a DEATH GRIP if you try and leave the bed while cuddling

- he is a hand holder

- like any chance he gets, he will hold that hand!!!!

- also great kisser

- like i know i say that a lot but like I MEAN THIS TIME

- his lips are so soft 24/7 and he does that thing when you two make up where he licks your bottom lip AUGHHH

- he will let you take his glasses and wear them (that man is blind without them but he still thinks its cute)

- okay this is a general hc but like whatever: this man doesn’t get modern lingo and you MAY abuse that

- “babe, wtf does that even mean???” (him after hearing the word ‘rizz’ for the first time)

- for dates, he loves staying in and watches movies or reading books/doing puzzles

- this man is chronically chill but also a ball of anxiety

- he is very confused about a lot of things

- his love language is gift giving even tho this man is canonically broke as HELL.

- will probably include you in a story and be super proud of it, like a child who just completed their macaroni art

- also he has two wolves inside of him: one named adhd, the other named autism

- he may not be into talking about his feelings because he is a bit of a cryer

- he cries a lot

- like at anything, anywhere

- he’s just a soft man who needs a hug T_T

smutty headcanons under the cut

- this man is a switch in denial who has a praise kink

- he’s like “yeah i get hard when call me a good boy and to get on my knees but im still the top!”

- which like when he is on top, that man is ON TOP

- he um may or may not be um into hair pulling

- that man is condescending and RUTHLESS when he tops

- “awe, i bet you’ll be a good girl now.”

- three words: PINING YOU DOWN.

- he is sensitive in all the right places

- like his jawline— if you kiss or touch his jawline, he will purr

- im serious. this man purrs and whimpers. i don’t make the rules.

- begging. he is into you begging and begging for you.

- if you come over to his house in just his shirt and booty shorts, he will tear it off you and fuck you like its his last day on earth

- when he isn’t being a top, he is a SLUT for you

- doing anything and everything if it means it will turn you on or make you cum

- also he likes being called a slut (secretly, that’s why he always calls you one when he’s on top)

- also also, totally has a thing for collars and leashes

- “no, its not a pet play thing…” (he lied, it definitely is)

[oh-dameron]

Noodling on an "Oops! Back In Time!" story idea where the Straw Hats sail through a Grand Line anomaly or whatever and wake up as they were about thirteen years in the past.

Robin is seventeen, still on the run in West Blue. She'd wake up, run down the list of her nakama to decide who needs help first: Franky and Jimbe are grown men already, they're fine, they can handle themselves. The East Blue crew are all little kids. To the best of her knowledge the tragedies that shaped their lives haven't happened yet and won't for a while. They're safe for now.

Chopper is a baby reindeer, probably hasn't eaten his fruit yet. Brook is currently unreachable to her, without a ship or a crew, but Franky is right there in Water 7 with a fleet of battleships that he needs to get rid of before they can be used to frame Tom. Maybe she can assume he'll take care of it.

Sanji is still in Germa kingdom. He's not safe at all.

Robin, who only looks seventeen, pulls out her mad skills as a spy and top-tier pirate and member of the actual Revolutionary Army and hustles to North Blue in record time, snapping necks and serving cunt the whole way. She infiltrates the fuck out of Germa 66 and is on the palace flagship before you can say Security Clearance. Robin's not stupid enough to dangle the poneglyphs or the Ancient Weapons in front of Judge: that's a carrot he would never stop chasing. No, she claims to have details of Vegapunk and Caesar's work on artificial devil fruits, counting on spite to get her through. It does. Robin was at Punk Hazard and Dressrosa and Wano: she knows enough details to make it plausible, and she's a trained academic to boot. She can make it sound right, even if it's not her field, even if it's made-up nonsense that will hopefully have Judge chasing his own tail for years.

Meanwhile, every night she's sending eyes and ears all over the palace looking for the missing third prince. Officially, the kingdom is still in mourning for the double tragedy of losing their Queen and one of the princes in quick succession. Robin cannot find any trace of grief in Judge or his remaining children, even when she's invited to dine with the royal family (there are still two empty chairs at the table, and she's ushered into one of them as though it was nothing. Luckily, she's had decades of keeping calm in the face of casual brutality to perfectly hone her poker face).

It doesn't take her long to find the stairs going down, down into the dark. And there's a dungeon at the bottom, a barred cell containing an eight-year old child who looks so much smaller than his brothers. He's covered in bruises and there's a metal horror wrapped around his head and casual brutality be damned, there are two wolves inside Robin right now and one of them wants to sit down and weep and the other one wants to snap Judge's neck and then tear this castle down brick by brick. Except. Tiny Sanji is doing a one-handed handstand in the middle of his cell. It's a bit wobbly, and he tumbles off-balance when he sees her, but there's nothing wobbly about the smile on the little she can see of his face when he runs to her.

"Robin-chwan!" he chirps, hugging her through the bars. "I knew I couldn't be the only one who came back! I'm so lucky to be rescued by such a dashing lady!" He peers at her through the helmet, eyes huge and blue and earnest. "You got here so fast! Who else is with you? Are you OK?"

And it's just so Sanji, who knows as well as she does where the rest of the crew is-better, probably-to think that she'd go to anyone else before coming here. As though his problems could wait while everyone else is taken care of first.

"Now that I've found you I'm quite alright, Sanji. The crew is just you and me for now, but I'm sure we'll soon change that."

He does a little spin of delight at having her all to himself, and it's the simple glee of a small child spending time with a favourite person. Robin smiles, and retrieves the keys, and holds his tiny hand all of the way out of the castle as he chatters about how amazing she is and who they'll go to find next. They sail away, leaving the palace in flames behind them.

[impishtubist]

Please write a scene where Padfoot is trying to manage his three unruly werewolf cubs AND husband during the full moon, while also keeping his three regular puppies safe.

Okay, so, the premise of this is that Sirius/Padfoot knocked Remus/Moony up and they ended up with a litter of 6: three werepuppies and three regular dog puppies. The werepuppies are Romulus, Idaho, and Mr. Sparkles, and the dog puppies are Ophelia, Estela, and Harold. I have also decided that the werepuppies are actually reverse werewolves, so they are wolves 90% of the time and human only on the full moon. Wolfstar is also raising Harry and Teddy, who are teenagers here. 

---

9:33 PM

As soon as the transformation is over, Sirius sweeps Romulus into his arms, peppering the toddler’s face with kisses as the child giggles. Harry and Teddy each pick up their own assigned toddler--Idaho for Harry, and Mr. Sparkles for Teddy.

“Right, boys, let’s get them some clothes,” Sirius says, carrying Romulus into the guest bedroom with Harry and Teddy following him.

“No clothes, Papa!” Romulus cries, squirming as Sirius wrestles him into a t-shirt and overalls. Sirius doesn’t exactly blame him--their werechildren are only human once a month, and clothes are a strange concept for them--but he also doesn’t want three naked toddlers running around the cottage and the garden. 

“Yes, clothes,” Sirius says as Harry and Teddy finish dressing the other two. He sets Romulus on the floor, and the other two soon follow. “Right, how about you go say hi to Da, yeah?”

Moony is still in the living room, having engaged their three dogchildren in a four-way tug-of-war with one of the many rope toys they have scattered throughout the house. Ophelia, Estela, and Harold have all ganged up on Moony, and he’s pretending to lose to them. When he finally admits defeat, he rolls onto his back, exposing his belly, and the three puppies and three toddlers pile on top of him. 

“Looks like it’ll be a quiet night, Padfoot,” Harry says, clapping Sirius on the shoulder. At seventeen, he’s already surpassed Remus in height, and is now nearly as tall as Sirius. “So if you don’t mind, I’m--”

“No,” Sirius says firmly, pointing a finger at his eldest son. “You’re not sneaking off to spend the night with Cedric. It’s the full moon, and you agreed to help out.” 

Harry sighs. “Fine. But you’re not gonna need me, you’ll see.” 

10:45 PM

“Romulus! Idaho!” Sirius exclaims. “Harry!”

Harold the dog and Harry the human both look around, and Sirius glares at human Harry.

“You,” he says. “You were supposed to be watching Idaho!”

“Well, you were supposed to be watching Romulus!” Harry retorts, coming into the kitchen to see what has Sirius so worked up. The toddlers have always been fascinated by the magic food box (the refrigerator) that they’re denied access to as werewolves. On the one night of the month when they have human bodies--and opposable thumbs--they always try to get inside.

Romulus and Idaho are seated on the floor in front of the open refrigerator, covered in various jams and sauces, cooked rice and chicken and vegetables scattered on the floor around them. 

“You,” Sirius says, glowering at Harry, “are giving them a bath.”

“Me? What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find out what Teddy and Sparky are up to.” 

11:00 PM

Sirius finally finds Teddy and Mr. Sparkles in the attic.

“What are you two up to?” he asks, warily eyeing the intricate runes drawn on the floor with the sidewalk chalk they keep in the garage.

“Summoning a demon, Papa,” Teddy says as he applies another layer of purple nail polish to Sparky’s nails. 

“Yeah, Papa,” Sparky says solemnly. “A demon!”

“Right, well.” Sirius shakes his head. “Tell them not to destroy the house, yeah?”

11:15 PM

“Harry!” Sirius rakes his fingers through his hair. “You were supposed to give them a bath, not flood the entire bloody floor!” 

11:30 PM

“Fat lot of help you are,” Sirius mutters as he collapses on the couch downstairs. Moony is still playing with their dog children. “Romulus and Idaho have emptied the entire refrigerator on the floor, Harry flooded the second storey, and Teddy and Sparky are trying to summon a demon.” 

Moony cocks his head at Sirius, then trots off into the kitchen, their three puppies trailing after him. By the time Sirius gets there, all four of them have eaten a week’s worth of leftovers from the floor and the shelves in the refrigerator. Great.

12:03 AM

Moony picks up a tennis ball in his mouth and noses at Sirius insistently until he agrees to go outside and throw it. Moony tears off across the field, the three puppies trying to keep up on their stubby little legs. He brings it back to Sirius and drops it at his feet; Sirius throws it again. They play fetch for half an hour, until the three dog children collapse in heaps at Sirius’s feet and he carries them inside. 

2:00 AM

“How’s the demon summoning going?” Sirius asks. Teddy comes into the room carrying a sleepy Mr. Sparkles, who he places in Sirius’s lap.

“Not well,” Teddy sighs, collapsing dramatically in an armchair.

“What were you going to do with a demon, anyway?”

“Dunno. Make ‘em do my homework?”

3:06 AM

Of course, it’s not a full moon if someone hasn’t gotten sick on the floor. Sirius sighs to himself as he waves his wand to clean Ophelia’s and Harold’s vomit from the living room rug while Moony licks his cheek in apology.

4:46 AM

Someone has left the back door open--someone being Harry or Teddy--and all three of the puppies get out. Sirius transforms into Padfoot and goes out into their back garden to fetch them, Moony on his heels. He finds Estela under the azaleas, and Ophelia at the edge of the forest. He stays with the puppies while Moony trots off into the forest, and he returns half an hour later with a soaking wet Harold clamped between his jaws.

Creek, Moony conveys as he drops Harold at Padfoot’s paws. 

Their children are going to be the death of him. 

5:34 AM

Sirius, Harry, and Teddy lay the three sleepy toddlers on the couch. After a night of playing and causing mischief in their human forms, they’re half-asleep, which will at least make the impending transformation easier on them.

“Night, babies,” Sirius whispers, kissing each of them. “I’ll see you again in a month.” 

10:02 AM

Sirius collapses in bed not long after their toddlers transform back into wolves, and Moony transforms into Remus. He wakes hours later to find all six of their puppies in bed with him--three black dogpuppies and three silver werepuppies. Remus is there, too, fast asleep. Sirius twists around to look over the side of the bed, and sure enough, Harry and Teddy are curled up on a mattress on the floor. 

His whole family, all in one place. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[winterwakesthewolf]

Wolves They Both Must Be

Jon Snow x Sansa Stark

Summary: “Did you bend the knee to save the North, or because you love her?”

Jon snaps his head up at Sansa’s question. Her eyes are brimming and hot and he can suddenly see this is not the argument he thought they were having. This is something else. Something deeper and much more intimate.

OR

The missing scene we deserved in 8x01

Author's Note: Part Two! I wrote this second part a few years ago and I really think I've grown as a writer since then. Since this part has never been published, I had the opportunity to edit it, but I read through it and honestly I'm too tired to do that so if there are any glaring issues, please let me know.

I first published the first part of this as a one shot on AO3 in 2019 and then a few years later I wrote a sequel that just sat in my google docs collecting digital dust. This is that second part. I may turn it into a series if there's enough interest so please let me know by liking, commenting, and reblogging if you want more.

Disclaimer: 18+, smut, (I'm serious, if you're not over 18 then scram), cousin incest, presumed half-sibling incest. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 2K

part one - part two

Sansa wakes in his arms, bare skin against skin. It is still night. Or perhaps early morning. The fire has nearly extinguished, leaving them mostly in the dark but for a faint flickering of illumination that casts the room in a soft, warm glow. She glances up at him, sound asleep and looking more peaceful than she has ever seen him look. His arm strewn lazily across her back. And his heart, that he had said was only hers, steadily beating beneath her ear. 

She lifts her head to peek at the scar there and she runs her fingers along the ridges of the severed flesh - a long, vertical line, curved at the top and still red in the center. Similarly to the scars that marr his abdomen, they look to not be fully healed. Sansa wonders if they may never be. Her heart aches at the thought that his own had once stopped beating.

Gazing at his resting face in awe and bewilderment at the magic it took to bring him back to life, and to her, she sheds a tear for all that could have been lost, and all that will.

His raven curls, unbound and tangled, lay atop her pillow. Her belly coils with heat at the memory of her hands pulling at the leather strap that tied them back, at the image she conjures of him raised above her, glowing from the light of the roaring fire, and the look in his eyes as he buried himself inside of her, their flesh fusing in forbidden, long-awaited bliss. Her cheeks bloom with both shame and pleasure at the thought of their union. At her insistence that he spill inside of her and stay there long after both of their pleasures were drawn out, knowing in the morning she would brew a cup of moon tea that she had hidden away from the time before. 

The gods had been cruel to make her love her half-brother. They had been kind enough to make him love her back. 

In her solar he had confessed that he loved her, and only her. And how loathed he was to leave her for Dragonstone. That when he declared, in the presence of their bannermen, that the North was a part of him and that he’d never stop fighting for it, what he had meant in his heart was that she was his North. He admitted that every moment they were apart, she never once left his thoughts. And that everything he had done in the effort to return home truly was to save the North. To save her. His whispered words had sent shivers through her. Both the declaration of his love, and the thought of what kinds of things he had to do to return home to her.

She doesn’t want to think of what all that had entailed. Or what had transpired in the dark between him and the dragon to make her believe he truly bent the knee, and that he loved her. But Sansa wants to trust him and believe the words he told her in the quiet of her bed as he entwined his hand in hers. As he gently stroked his calloused fingers over her bare skin, leaving gooseprickles in their wake.

“I had to make her believe in the ruse, Sansa. I’m not proud of it,” he had rasped, eyes averted from Sansa’s gaze until she reached for him, turning his face so that she could look upon him. He released a shaky breath and croaked, “I’d beg for your forgiveness if you’re willing to give it. But I understand if it’s too much to ask. I wouldn’t blame ye. But I must confess, I thought of you. Every second.”

Jon had fought battles for Sansa, had fought Ramsey knowing the odds were against him. He fought the Others, and survived to come back to her. He had lied, manipulated, and kept the secret hidden away so convincingly, so deep, that even Sansa had not seen it. 

(Her feelings for Jon surely clouded her judgment, causing her to doubt his loyalty).

She doesn’t want to think of what he may have to continue to do to keep up the ruse, or what they both may need to sacrifice. But Sansa knows that whatever it may be, she will do whatever she can to protect him, as he has done for her.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she whispered. And she had meant it. 

Lying in the dark beside him she knows she will always mean it, no matter how much the thought of it stings. No matter the ache that blooms at the unbidden image of Jon with her. He had not truly been Sansa’s to lose then, but now… what were they to each other now? Now that they had crossed the point of no return.

Their love could never be known to any other. This secret they will always have to hide. If they were discovered it could lead to ruin and damnation. Northerners do not accept a union between siblings, no matter that they don’t share a mother. They were no Lannisters, nor Targaryens, and yet their illicit love seemed to prove otherwise. After all that she had learned, had worked so hard to not become, had she turned into Cersei after all? The thought makes her shiver and recoil. 

Perhaps she need not fret over any of it, for the Others are marching upon them. The threat looming, heavier with each passing moment. They may very well take this secret to a grave that lies just beyond the horizon. Lost to each other forever. And yet the thought of that terrifies her more than any possibility of their secret love being sussed out.

Jon stirs beneath her and flutters his eyes open, blinking to adjust to the dim light, and then he lowers his chin toward Sansa. His eyes soften as they land on her and he gives her a smile, sweet and tender, reaching his hand to gently tuck her tangled hair behind her ear.

“We fell asleep,” he says with a voice gruff and tender as he absentmindedly traces patterns on the small of her back.

“We did.”

“I’d better sneak off to my chambers before anyone realizes where I am.”

Sansa didn’t want this night to end. What had been their first union could very well be their last. 

As he moves to get up, Sansa gently pushes him back down to press her body and her lips as close to his as possible. The kiss, at first soft and slow, builds with passion, and desperation to stop time. Before long Jon has rolled Sansa onto her back and hovers over her just as before, looking down on her in wonderment and adoration. The look behind his eyes like an arrow of fire in her belly, and a need coils itself deep inside, begging to be met.

“Jon,” she pleads wantonly, reaching up to grasp his face in her hands, digging her fingers into his beard, weaving them in his hair. A frantic, desperate plea. He obliges, first by trailing kisses down her neck and to her breasts, spending time filling his mouth with them and driving that coil deeper and hotter inside of her, making her ache with need. And then he abruptly stops, pushes the furs farther off of the bed, until he is sitting at her feet, smiling with hooded eyes. The look she gives him of confused anticipation makes him chuckle.

“Why are you laughing?” Sansa sounds a bit wounded, but smiles all the same. 

“I’m not laughin’ at ye, Sansa. I swear,” he raises his palms as if in surrender. “But I want to try something if you let me.” Jon tenderly places his hands upon her knees, “Do you trust me?”

Sansa nods apprehensively, curiously, and watches as he spreads her legs apart and lowers his head, all while keeping his eyes locked onto hers. Kissing her knees and thighs in turn, he slowly travels higher and higher until his hands are gripping the flesh of her hips and his mouth is on her, licking the wetness between her thighs. It takes everything in Sansa not to cry out. Her heavy sighs alone are nearly loud enough for anyone outside of her door to hear. Jon’s tongue swirls and flicks at the most sensitive part and she has never felt a pleasure so intense. It rivals the pleasure she felt just hours ago when he touched her there as he spent inside of her. This was different and new and thrilling. She climbs higher and higher as his tongue works its magic, pushing her to the brink. And just as she is about to fall off the edge, Jon reaches up to take her breast in hand, his thumb grazing and teasing until she plunges off of the precipice and buries her face in the furs to muffle her cries. 

When the throbbing and the panting subsides, she glances at Jon, a very smug look upon his face, “Did ye like that?” 

Sansa smiles and nods lazily, still catching her breath, and she reaches for him with arms outstretched. He climbs up and kisses her deep and long, the taste of her still on his lips, and she can feel his need for her lined up at the spot his tongue had just deliciously ravaged. And suddenly she can feel the need inside her return in earnest. Those glorious flutters assault her belly as she wraps her legs around his waist and backside, pulling him close, inviting him in again. 

When he buries himself inside her once more, he keeps his eyes focused on hers, whispers a thousand I love yous that she returns in earnest, savoring the feeling of him so close to her as they find a slow and deliberate rhythm. 

Both of them know this might be their last and neither of them are quick to chase the pleasure out, but are intent on committing these precious few moments to memory. Tears stream down Sansa’s temples, sprung from somewhere deep and buried. Jon gently kisses them away.

“I am yours, Sansa. Only yours.” He touches his forehead to hers, “And you are mine.” It is half a question, half a command.

“Always,” she whispers and repeats again and again as she falls from the edge and he spills inside of her once more. 

The dawn arrives, creeping in through the window, as Jon dresses as quietly as he can. And once he has pulled his boots on he crosses back to the bed where Sansa is sitting, holding her knees and the furs close. She is cold without his warmth. He must sense it because he leans over to pull her close, bringing the furs with her, to the edge of the bed. He gently takes her face in his hands as she memorizes the look in his eyes. Kissing her sweetly, with such care and reverence, then envelops her in his arms for a long embrace. 

Sansa buries her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him, heavy with leather and steel and woodsmoke. She curls herself into his chest. And as she listens to the beating of his heart beneath her ear once again, she doesn’t even attempt to hold back the tears anymore. Releasing the ache of the joy, and the tragedy, of it all. 

“Never forget, Sansa. Whatever happens, know that I love you,” he whispers in her ear, holding her close, running his fingers through her copper waves.

And before dawn can unearth their secret, he moves to kiss her forehead with a desperation and reverence that burns long after he reluctantly pulls away. He stalks toward the door, and then looks back at her with a smile full of hope and fear before slipping into the cover of darkness. 

Alone and cold without him, Sansa weeps upon the furs that warmed them through the winter night. Tears that she has denied for so long finally tumble free and flow without ceasing. They pour out uncontrollably, as though Jon had unlocked a deeply buried chest within her, filled to the brim with love she had for so long confined to the darkest parts of her, and fear of losing what has only briefly been hers. 

She finds that once unlocked she may never again find the key.

~

Taglist: @thaisthedreamer @bluedaffodil21 @ilargizuri

[i-didnt-hate-it]

I didn't hate The Fall Guy, I absolutely loved it!

There's nothing that makes me want to make movies more than watching movies about making movies.

Inside me there are two wolves. One loves watching serious, "important" ✨️cinema✨️, and the other one loves watching fun, over the top action movies. Because both of them are cinema, matter what anyone says. Movies are a way to escape. To have some fun when you aren't feeling too great. To have a laugh when you've been crying too much. To have a cry when you've been holding it in too long. To get angry in a way that inspires you to make a change. To get scared enough to feel something when you think you've gone numb.

If Nicole Kidman needs a new AMC commercial, tell her to call me.

Anyway, if you love movies, if you love action, if you love stunts, The Fall Guy is for you. If you love Dune (in a fun way, not a crazy zealot way) you'll love The Fall Guy.

I loved almost everything, if not everything about this movie. I thought the story was a lot of fun, the soundtrack was great, the cinematography was cool, the pacing was consistent, and of course the action, vfx and stunts were awesome!

The performances struck a balance of earnestness and tongue-in-cheek that reminds me of the self-awareness of Barbie or The LEGO Movie. Ryan Gosling is definitely still feeling the Kenergy, and it's nice to see Ken doing well on his own without Barbie. Actually, scratch that, he found a different Barbie in Emily Blunt, who made me wish I was on a film set right now so I could fall in love with a camera operator. I haven't directed a movie (yet), but I could feel her nerves as a first-time director, but her growing confidence also came across beautifully. Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Tom Cruise–sorry, Tom Ryder–made me remember that I love to watch good actors act like bad actors. I feel like Hannah Waddingham can't give a bad performance, 10/10, no notes. I wish Winston Duke had more screentime, but what he had, he absolutely owned. The only other thing I've seen him in was Us, which was fantastic, but I definitely want to see more.

But of course, my standout performance has to be my girl Stephanie Hsu!! It's criminal how little I saw her in the marketing of The Fall Guy, it's almost like she's just a Jobu Tupaki cameo, but she absolutely crushed her scenes. I mean, they gave her a great action scene, thank you EEAAO for showing the world what Stephanie can do.

Slight spoilers in this next paragraph. The Fall Guy isn't overly emotional, but there was one part that got me moist in the eyes. It wasn't the love story, okay it was part of that, or the message about always getting back up, or that nihilism is a viable worldview (I learned that from EEAAO, nothing matters 😁), it was the line that Ryan Gosling says to Emily Blunt's character Jody, about how she has to finish her movie because she might end up inspiring the next generation of Jodys. As soon as he said that, just a wave of emotion. Because that's how movies keep going, because filmmakers inspire filmmakers who inspire filmmakers. It's so simple, yet it is so profound and beautiful. And the fact that a movie has the power to inspire a young woman to make a crazy fun Mad Max/Dune love story with Jason Momoa is so stupidly powerful. But this movie also has the power to inspire the next generation of stunt performers, directors, writers, producers, and all that is just amazing.

If you've read this far, it looks like you're just as crazy as me, the guy who will sit in the front row of as many IMAX viewings of as many movies as he can, because he just loves movies. And like I said, nothing makes me want to make movies more than watching movies about making movies.

[asnarkyandironicusername]

Day 02 of @remadoramicrofics - Cat

“Alright,” Remus said as he, Tonks, and Teddy stepped back into the daylight streaming through Diagon Alley, “all that’s left is a magical companion.”

Tonks clapped her hands excitedly. “Perfect, we’ll get you an owl and then take an ice cream break at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour!” 

“Mum, I want a cat,” Teddy said for what felt like the thousandth time.

“We understand, but an owl would, perhaps, be a little more useful,” Remus tried.

“You know your father and I will have an endless supply of letters to send you,” Tonks added.

“I won’t need an owl for that!” Teddy protested, “Dad will be there everyday. Nan said that I could get whatever I wanted.”

“We know,” Remus sighed, “but a cat is a lot of responsibility. Hogwarts will tend for an owl, but you’d be entirely responsible for a cat – on top of being responsible for your studies.” 

“I’m not a little kid any more, I know!” 

Remus wanted to point out that eleven was far from an adult, but decided to bite down on that fact. 

“What if you’re allergic?” Tonks tried.

Teddy folded his arms in front of himself. “I’ll have to get one first to find out.”

In truth, Remus didn’t think a cat would be a terrible amount of responsibility, nor did they have any reason to believe Teddy to be allergic. Rather, Remus Lupin for the first time in eleven years feared that someone he loved would be irreversibly impacted by his disease. When Teddy had first mentioned getting a cat, he and Tonks had discussed it at length. Most of the conversations involved Tonks taking Teddy’s side while Remus worried that his condition would lead to the cat running off or displaying some other behavioral issues.

This fear had then, rapidly, morphed into the fear that his son would hate him for his condition. And of course, the ever-present fear that Teddy would find himself ostracized or ridiculed for his lineage reared its ugly head. Tonks had spent the last week insisting that was ridiculous, but Remus felt the familiar, isolating anxiety clawing at him now, in a busy street with the two people he loved most in the world.

Teddy folded his arms in front of himself, his roots tinging a deep burgundy color. “Why don’t you want me to get a cat?” 

Tonks, bless her heart, tried to come up with an argument that they hadn’t already rehearsed and given him, but Remus just sighed; he never wanted his son to think his parents were liars. “Teddy, I know you want a cat, and you’re right, I’m sure things would go fine at Hogwarts, but the cat will have to live at home, too and…well, pets and werewolves, especially cats and werewolves don’t always mix. I wouldn’t want to –”

“How do you know?” his son asked.

“Well, I…I just – it’s, what do you mean?”

“We’ve never had a cat, Dad, so how do you know all cats don’t like you?”

“It’s like the old adage – cat’s and dogs, you know,” Tonks said as she rested a hand on their son’s shoulder.

“But some cats and dogs get along and Dad isn’t a dog. Harry said that Uncle James’s anigamus form was a stag and those aren’t typically friends with wolves.”

“That was a little different, Teddy.”

“Well, can’t we just see? I mean, maybe we could meet a few cats before you outlaw one entirely.”

Remus nodded. “Alright, and maybe you could ask Nan about letting the cat stay there during holidays.”

Teddy rolled his eyes at Remus and Remus was struck, not for the first time, at just how much like his mother he looked. “I won’t get a cat that doesn’t like you, Dad.”

“Well, it’s good to have options,” Remus said, though he didn’t miss the look his son and wife shared as he led them to the magical menagerie. 

There wasn’t much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. Remus, with his heightened smell and hearing, found the place to be quite overwhelming because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering or hissing.

“What about this one?” Teddy said as he pointed to a tabby orange thing flopped onto its back. “I’d name him Gideon.”

“Because Gideon Crumb is a ginger?” Remus ventured.

“I knew you liked the Weird Sisters,” Tonks said enthusiastically.

“Just because I know a member’s name does not mean I enjoy listening to the two of you belt out the lyrics off-key.” That wasn’t entirely true; while Remus didn’t think either of them had a musical career ahead of them, he did quite enjoy the moments where they’d be cleaning their home and Dora and Teddy would turn every song into a duet.

“Can we see that one?” Remus asked the attendant. She wore heavy black spectacles and looked him up and down warily. 

“It’s his first year and he’s picking out a companion,” Tonks said as she set a hand on Teddy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, he doesn’t really show any prowess,” she said duly as she pulled the cat from the cage and plopped it, rather ungracefully into Teddy’s arms. He immediately morphed his hair to match.

“You have to admit,” Tonks whispered as Teddy headed to one of the sectioned off areas, “They’re rather cute together.”

“He’d be cute next to a boggart, Dora,” Remus returned fondly.

“Mum, Dad, come meet Gideon.”

Remus took a deep breath and held it as he reached his hand out to the orange tabby. To his surprise, Gideon immediately butted his head into Remus’s palm. “I think he likes you,” Tonks said with a grin as she ruffled Teddy’s hair. “So, now that that’s settled, who’s ready for ice cream?”

[m1d-45]

(i wanted to do one last one im sorry (/_;))

Dear Razor,

I hope this finds you well in the lands of Wolvendom. How have you been, dear? And how is Bennett? Not in any more cuts and bruises, I hope.

I know you always take care of Bennett whenever you adventure together but don't forget to take care of yourself, too! Both of you are like little brothers to me and I would hate to see you two injured. We are lupical, as you would always say.

I will return to Mondstadt soon, rest assured bringing gifts of course. Until then, I wish you bountiful hunts for you and the rest of your lupical. Can't wait to see you soon, dear. And pass this along to Bennett will you?

signed,

avo

(A tiny keychain crocheted version of him and Bennett lay inside the letter. Along with a small illustration of you and him)

(I love Razor sm btw. He's best boy and I will protect him at all costs)

razor sat among his pack, absentmindedly picking leaves or shedding pieces of fur from their coats whenever he got bored. night watch was quiet, peaceful, an easy time to think when opposed to the busy bustle of daytime. though it wasn’t good for him to take every watch, he did volunteer for them more often than the other wolves.

the night was calm, the trees thin enough to allow enough light through that he could see, but thick enough that no enemies should see him sitting up in the cave. occasionally a wind would sweep through, a chill creeping up his arms, but he would simply sink them into whoever’s fur was closest and wait for the wind to pass. it always did, even in mondstat.

razor stood up, carefully picking his way out of the cave. at the mouth, he stretched, feeling his gloves brush the stone at the top. one downside of night watch was the tension that came with constantly being on alert. it was a necessary evil, as a sleeping pack was a vulnerable one, and he was always sure to rid of any excess. the last thing he needed was a cramp or a strained muscle when an enemy-

leaves rustled, and he barely had to think before reaching for his claymore, already on the handle and ready to pull.

the bushes were still. it could be a squirrel, or a bird. something harmless. small. it was rare, but it had happened before, and that detail alone kept him from waking the others.

when the intruder appeared, it was not a clear threat. but, it was no squirrel either. it came from above, a second sun falling from the branches in slow motion. it spun in midair as he watched, ridding itself of the leaf that had landed on top of it.

razor hesitated. did he call it? it… seemed harmless, drifting towards him at a lazy pace. the wind picked up, from the star towards him, carrying a familiar smell. so it was from someone he knew…

carefully, he let the ball fall into his cupped hands, looking up at where it came from. the leaves would occasionally part, but he didn’t see anybody or anything up there. just the night sky, with a few falling stars streaking across the thin patches he could see.

stars…

he looked back down at his hands, but the ‘star’ was gone. two small doll-like plushes rested in his hands, attached to hooks and laying on a bed of paper, with lettering for sheets. the figures looked familiar, but he quickly turned his attention to the words themselves.

your letter wasn’t long, but with the amount of times he reread it it might have been. he knew you—just because he lived with the wolves didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of the one who made them, boreas would have his hide otherwise—but not why you would send him a letter. he did not need your writing to know he was one of your favored. he did not need a star to tell him he was cared for. you had done that on your own, with your kind words when bringing him and bennett on your journey, when you blessed him with claws of iron and teeth of thunder.

still, he held your gifts close, smiling slightly at your drawing. maybe, you would come visit him in wolvendom, and his lupical would be complete.

[probablynottola]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Tagged by @beckstraordinary

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

9 completed works, some of them multichapter but nothing tooo long. one series.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

More than my actual thesis... that i should have been writing... for my actual work... (almost 85k)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Ted Lasso and Tedpendent specifically! But I am a multishipper, so you'll find some TrentBeard in there and some TrentRoy too.

I'd love to write for Midnight Mass but I'm scared of how to write all the religious talk. I thought about writing for OFMD and BBC Ghosts but sort of didn't find the inspiration. There's something about TedTrent that just has that sort of grip on my brain I guess!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

So... Michelle’s Bisexual Bureau of Investigation seems to be the most liked. I mean, it's basically about Trent being a gay disaster on social media so I think many of us out there can relate (it's actually largely based on something I personally did). It was fun to write and I can sort of see why it's a fun read.

Second, third and fourth place we have 🪄The Smut Fics🪄. It's all private on ao3, so you'll need a profile to access them cause, well.

Fifth place we have Bicycle Day Surprisingly Not About Cycling, which is about divorced dads with a mutual crush doing LSD together. 😇 It was so hard to write but I had one (1) idea and had to stick with it!! Also it was for a challenge so I was extra determined to get it out of my system.

Ironically (in the Alanis sense of the term) some of my personal favourites have the least kudos.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I love recieving comments and I wanna let people know I really appreciate them. Also, I love commenting on fics and treat the comment section on ao3 as a sort of community-building place. People have been so nice and lovely in the comment sections, it's amazing, really.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The ending is not angsty, cause I like to give some happiness to my fictional babes, but this one is sort of angsty and has the least explicit happy ending: Can you still edit a written book?. It's about Beard and Trent being sad and miserable about Ted leaving and hooking up about it. I also wrote a short sequel here: A different pace. This is a wip series and it's the most emo / earnest i got with fic writing. I don't mind it tho!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Inside of me there are two wolves. One wants to make a sex joke out of the question and thus recommending smut, the other wants to link a wholesome future fic written from the Crimmlet's pov. The duality of humankind.

All of my fics have happy endings, so I'll re-interpret the question and I'll link A very special Crimmlet Diary entry for Coming Out day because it has a glimpse on a very cute and happy family future for Ted and Trent together.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Only from my own brain when I feel down about my writing! 🙃

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

YES. I. DO.

More open than the jar of peanut butter on my kitchen counter is a multi-chapter multishipping madness of a fic I thought about orphaning many times and which I keep as a testament of my own progress in writing fics. I am still grateful for having had some help with beta-reading it but it's just such a mess and very self-indulgent. There's some fun sexy parts including potentially problematic dirty talk, public sex, platonically holding your hands with your bff while you both get head... Ops.

I also wrote an alternative chapter for it which became a one shot, called Cowboys are secretly frequently fond of each other, which is about Trent getting horny over Ted singing karaoke.

But I think the only one I really like it's You’re an angel I’m a dog (Or you're a dog and I'm your man). It's a nasty (you've been warned!) PWP pup play fic. I just think those men deserve to be freaks once in a while. I debated over publishing this as anon but my lack of shame won.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No... but I do think Trent deserves boyfriends from every corner of the multiverse.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I'd love to. My DMs are open!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

💙Ted and Trent💙. Truly a perfect ship. My losers. I love them.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Midnight Mass AU that lives rent free in my head and that most likely will never see the light of day (...wink wink, pun intended).

16. What are your writing strengths?

I don't know! I think I can be quite funny. And sometimes poetic, even accidentally so, in the way non-native speakers sometimes can be, using language in a different way. I think I can also write pining quite well (gay water sign talent).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I hate, HATE, writing dialogue. I am terrified of it. I am afraid it will sound fake or artificial. I also feel insecure about English not being my first language and it showing in fics, in them sounding weird somehow. Not seeing mistakes etc. But I also lack the impulse control needed to wait for fics to be beat read and I sometimes just post the second is done. Which. Not ideal.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

The bane of my existence. Hell on earth. Help. (I willfully misinterpret this question and answer implying that all dialogue is in another language for me).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Somewhere, on EFP (Italian fanfic site) there are some original works of mine from AGES AGO, and even (if memory doesn't fail me) some Harry Potter wips that I hope are long gone, since fuck that TERF and her work.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Probably the last one I wrote for the AFC Richmond discord server bingo challenge. To love flowing in different directions. it's about queer chosen family and love. It has puns about sex toys, drunken confessions, fantastic wing man action, lots of mutual pining. It was fun to write!

No pressure tags: @bookqueen101 @leeofthestone @thistableforone @rootingfordorks @crimmcakes @carduelisfinch @tinylilemrys @jamiepoptart

[eternally-smitten]

Drabblecember - Movie Marathon

pairing: Natalie x Ignacio Varga

summary: Natalie shows him one of her favorite movies of all time

word count: 567

author's note: i'll give y'all one guess on what movie i just rewatched recently

“My lord,” Ignacio yawned, “How many movies do you know?”

“Too many.” Natalie replied with a straight face, “Okay, what's next? Holiday or Studio Ghibli?”

He shrugged, “You know more about films than me so I'm leaving it in your hands.”

She looked back and forth between the two DVD cases she held in her hands. The choices she narrowed it down to were Princess Mononoke and Home Alone. Her lips were pulled into a fine line and her glasses started to fall down the bridge of her nose a little as she focused. The way she was acting, anyone would almost think that she was making a life changing decision.

Ignacio reached over and pushed her glasses up for her, “Whatever you choose, I will enjoy, love. Or, we can always do both tonight.”

“Oh, I already planned on that.” She admitted, “I’m just trying to decide on which one we should watch first.”

He tapped the cover of Princess Mononoke, “I like the one with the wolf. She looks cool.”

Natalie’s eyes lit up and she excitedly gasped, “You’re actually interested? You’re not just humoring me?”

“No, I’m not.” He shook his head, “The wolf girl looks neat. I think I want that one.”

“Really??”

“I said yes.” He chuckled.

“Okay, okay, okay,” She practically fell trying to hop off the couch to get to the DVD player. With excited hands, she cracked the case open to pop the disc inside before nestling back in her spot next to Ignacio. 

For a few weeks now, Natalie had been babbling non stop about having a movie marathon together. She even compiled a mental list in her head she swore up and down she’d remember when they finally went through on this plan. Then, this weekend crept up on them and Ignacio innocently mentioned having the marathon once Saturday rolled around. She got so pumped to show him her favorite films that of course, she immediately forgot the mental list she promised to never forget. So, they started from the top and just pulled movies off the shelf as they went. 

Ignacio gestured to the screen, “So, our guy here…um, you know,”

“Ashitaka?” “Ashitaka, yeah. What’s his issue again?”

She lightly hit his arm, “Have you not been paying attention? He got cursed!”

“And…why is that?”

“The boar was cursed too and pissed off because of said curse.”

“Okay…” He said, not understanding at all, “So, why was the giant boar cursed?”

She nuzzled into him, “Well, you’d figure that out if you stayed quiet and paid attention!”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, “Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet now.”

Like he said before, Ignacio did find himself becoming involved with the plot of the film. He found the wolf girl cool and liked the giant wolves best. He never thought he would ever be interested in anime but here he was, enjoying it with Natalie. He silently thought about how if it wasn’t for her, he would’ve never realized he enjoyed these types of movies. She was right, binge watching movies together was fun. 

The credits for Princess Mononoke rolled and Ignacio had to think about the plot for a little bit. It was such a captivating movie to him. He turned to her to start talking about it a little bit before she interrupted him with, “So, what’s next?”

tag list: @blood-moon-ships @bobmckenzie @kylars-princess @bioexorcizm @felixrichtershubby @fates-theysband @gideongrovel @weirdgirlgf @lieutenantselnia let me know if you want to be added or removed! <3

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Wolves And A Door"/"A World Between Worlds"

Things get Force Weird as we approach the final stretch.

Live reaction version.

Right so I'm probably going to be cannibalizing some of my "Ezra Bridger as a thematic Chosen One in Star Wars Rebels and the messianic imagery of “A World Between Worlds”" essay because even though I still want to make that its own separate post someday, there's going to be things about these two episodes that I have to bring up and observations that will crossover with that essay when and if that finally gets finished.

I'm going to try to be very sparing with the caps too, because I've got two whole episodes to cover and ghksajhfkjahkjh there's way too much pretty to show off, I honestly don't know how I'm gonna do it guys.

I love that after the somber musical fog they put us through last episode they start us off with bouncy plinky pizzicato strings and Loth-cat cuteness. They were like, "Hey, we know things have been heavy lately and they're gonna be again, but in the meantime have kitties sitting on top of doggos and feel for a moment reassured that there is still goodness in the world."

Zeb's skepticism re. the wolves is a little silly given that they've already shown that they're intelligent sentient creatures.

Ezra's already showing signs of the serenity and dignity he takes on as de facto leader of the Lothal rebels. Hera actually kind of cedes that role to him, and Ryder has certainly already taken several steps back out of cynicism.

So it falls to Ezra to lead them, to plan out their attack strategies, to be their head.

He's matured so much I'm so proud of him.

The wolves are deeply connected to the Force, and to Lothal. Ezra is too. In a way, he's of their kind. And after accepting his task from them last episode they consider him officially part of the pack it seems, because they readily come to his call.

Ezra's unique ability to connect, once again an invaluable asset.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The tufts of grass that wobble as the wolves walk through them.

Ezra's favor with the wolves extends to the others, so they are all able to climb on board and hitch a Force-assisted ride back to the northern hemisphere where the Temple is.

Love this sequence. The pounding drums. The sound design. The slow phasing of the wolves into the ground and disappearing soundlessly into it, with just a whisper of wind in their wake.

I can't get over how the Loth-wolf visions keep going back to Kanan's "You want a ride?". Filoni has mentioned that Ezra's tuned into the "echoes" that are particularly relevant to him while inside the WBW and I guess the same must apply to the hyperspace wolves tunnels. It's fascinating, we've always taken hyperspace for granted but since it's part of the galaxy, it has to be part of the Force as well, so it makes perfect sense in a way that ancient Force guardians like the Loth-wolves, or creatures just intimately connected with the Force like the purrgil, can make their own hyperspace tunnels naturally, in order to pass through time and space.

"It surrounds us, it penetrates us, it binds the galaxy together."

Something I really love about the whole concept of the World Between Worlds is the idea that we're getting a rare glimpse at the inner structure of the Force itself, the tendons and strings connecting it together.

Anyway, sob with me about how the echoes end with Ezra's "There's just you and me." from "Siege of Lothal". It was just them, two flickering twin moons against the blackest night, holding back the darkness until sunrise.

And now it's just Ezra alone.

What I wouldn't give to know what they're talking about.

Frick his whole bearing is different. He's quieter, more somber. We blinked and he grew up, aged five years in a night.

We reach the Temple and it's as bad as we've feared, the Empire has set up all around it and the area bristles with lights and equipment. They've burrowed down to the foundations of the Temple, trying to pull up its secrets by the root, and they've wholecloth removed the familiar doors from it, leaving a gaping surface level hole.

The Temple itself has sealed itself tight, barring entry to the interlopers, and I LOVE the thematic fairy tale underpinnings of this.

There's a line in The Magician's Nephew, one of the Chronicles of Narnia and another strong influence on the show's writing and concepts, that goes like: "Come in by the gold gates or not at all, Take of my fruit for others or forbear, For those who steal or those who climb my wall, Shall find their heart’s desire and find despair."

This is another overarching myth archetype: Only The Worthy May Pass.

If your heart is true, and you ask permission, show the Threshold Guardian respect, walk humbly and seek the boon for others, it will be granted to you freely. But if you're selfish, if you lie and cheat and steal and trick your way in, brute force what you want and are arrogant, demanding the prize, you will receive your just reward. And you won't like it.

Think of the last Indiana Jones movie. Indiana Jones is the one that takes all the risk, makes the leap of faith to save his father, and is granted permission to use the Grail's healing powers. The Nazi-aligned academic rival who barged in with tanks and guns and wants to live forever using the Grail's powers, however?

Indiana Jones vibes are aaaaaaaallll over these whole two episodes by the way. The whole general feel of an archaeological adventure with an unexpected encounter with the divine, it's great.

I still think it's immensely clever that they used the recording of Thrawn to distract the Scout Troopers. Still hilariously convenient that one of them is female.

Even the music gets Indiana Jones-esque when Ezra and Sabine make it down into the hollow.

Hi Hydan!

I love him. He's such a good oneshot villain. Cordial and affably polite and yet my skin crawls whenever he threatens either Sabine or Ezra. He's another Thrawn archetype/parallel, he studies the mysteries of the Force in the hopes of understanding them, not for himself, but to grow the power of his Emperor. He plunders the wealth of the Lothal Temple not out of respect for it, but to dissect it for knowledge and power.

An absolutely seamless Mind Trick from Ezra here. So proud of him.

The matching "Oh crap!" expressions on their faces when they realize that's Emperor Freaking Palpatine on the other end of the line.

The Mortis arc is actually one of the few TCW arcs I watched in full. Sue me I love me some Force Weirdness. So it was quite a delight to see the Mortis gods returning as artistic archetypal representations of the aspects of the Force. The Light, the Dark, the Unifying/Cosmic Balance. (Even the Living Force is represented in the mural by the Loth-wolves.) Since we're exploring the very inner scaffolding of the Force itself these episodes, it made perfect sense to me to bring them back, and tie them into how the Lothal Temple operates.

Unsurprisingly the Emperor's leitmotif makes an appearance here. Palpatine already has extraordinary clairvoyent powers but they've become confused after Kanan's sacrifice. Kanan has altered the fate of Lothal somehow, and even Palpatine can't figure out why.

(Pssst, it's because the Force is actually working against you buddy, it's trying to restore proper balance.)

This moment was very mean and hurted in all the right ways.

"They'll be fine." "I used to always believe that." This hits right in the parental bone, ouch.

Harps and female vocals once again signifying the arcane mysteries of the Force.

And this is gorgeous.

Ezra and Sabine begin to puzzle out the meaning behind the mural, Ezra only able to identify the Loth-wolves and the green convor that liked to follow Ahsoka around. (We've still not been given an explanation for that one yet. The prevailing theory is that it's what left of the Daughter, acting as a spirit guide/guardian for Ahsoka.)

The golden pathways correspond to the paths and doorways inside the World Between Worlds and when they're aligned on the mural, the wolves awaken to form the portal that grants access. Only one who can channel the Light Side is able to unlock the mechanism to align the pathways, via connecting to the Daughter part of the mural.

This is one of the reasons why Palpatine needed to cheat to get inside. The other reason is that, per word of Filoni, the World Between Worlds is actually a bit choosy about who it lets inside.

Again, Only The Worthy May Pass. Ezra is connected to the Force and to Lothal, a native son of the planet, a Jedi, and he has the wolves' favor, so he is granted access.

Like Maul back on Malachor, Palpatine cannot open the door on his own.

Sabine does a pretty good job bluffing the Troopers that come to investigate her presence by the mural, buying Ezra enough time to connect to the Daughter and open the portal.

Ezra remembering Kanan's last words to him, the reminder to listen.

Rebels animation is gorgeous, I will hear no slander.

And this technique they developed to animate 2D images on top of a 3D CGI environmental surface was probably the same technology they used for mini Maui in Moana. Put to absolutely beautiful use, there's zero weird blending or edging at all, it just looks fully integrated and a natural part of the image.

Now, obviously the mural wolves need a clear space in order to form the portal but I also think they were drawing Ezra far enough away from the Stormtroopers that they wouldn't get to him in time. So that they couldn't stop him.

I'm actually reminded of a scene in Avatar: The Last Airbender (which Filoni also worked on), where Aang manages to slip in last minute through the giant door into the inner shrine that could only be opened by several Fire Sages working in tandem, and the way Roku--the previous Avatar before Aang, and a Firebender himself--seals the door behind Aang, so that even the Sages can't open the door anymore.

Ezra has a meeting with the Divine, and the Empire is not invited.

The score going full blast Indiana Jones mysticism, love it.

Like Thrawn, Hydan clocks Sabine as someone who doesn't belong there immediately, recognizing her from the incident before. The dig site is put on full alert and Troopers close in on Ezra, who's paralyzed for a moment, nervous to enter the portal.

Sabine yells for him to go.

And with determination and purpose, he does.

And the portal seals behind him.

Sabine's worry and fear. <3 Even though she told him to go, watching him literally disappear into a wall has to be frightening.

AND NOW FOR THE EXTRA FORCE WEIRD PART. :D

The World Between Worlds is a place where time and space have no meaning, because all time is present at once. Past, present, and future is all happening simultaneously inside the starvoid, which pulses with the whispers of those who have come before, and those who are yet to come. It's a liminal space, a space of transition, an "in-between" that is neither here nor there. @seleneisrising has an excellent series of posts comparing it to the Wood Between The Worlds, again from The Magician's Nephew, a seemingly endless wood with countless pools that represent different worlds one can enter and exit, if one has the proper travel implements (green and gold rings, in this case).

It is not time travel. Filoni and other writers make it very clear that you cannot, SHOULD NOT, actually use it for that purpose, because if you take something out of its proper time and space, things could go very very badly, and you could create a paradox that destroys time.

Ezra doesn't know this when he winds up pulling Ahsoka out of Malachor, but Ahsoka suspects--since she's been in this kind of Force Weird situation before--so that why she's immediately all, "Okay you have to put me exactly back where you found me." and declines to come with Ezra out his portal.

And that's also why Ezra can't save Kanan.

More on that later.

Our first series of echoes is about the Force, in general, and specific quotes apply to Ezra in particular, for the character journey he's going to complete inside this liminal space.

"Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose." "What you need you already have. Unfortunately, you seem to be letting it all go." "I won't let him lose his way. Not like I did."

The World Between Worlds is already warning him of the temptation that Palpatine will offer, first with Kanan, and then with his parents. Palpatine will dangle the idea of undoing his loss, reversing and cheating death, the same thing he offered Anakin, if he would only just lend Palpatine a little of his power, just a small favor, just open this door for me good lad, don't you want this?

It's a trap. A trick. A lie. There is no reversing death.

You cannot go back down into Hades.

The Force theme permeates this space, floating above our heads with the stars in the vast empty void. Obi-Wan pipes in, via voiceover, to explain what we're seeing, in essence, the very scaffolding and inner workings of the Force.

Meanwhile outside, the troopers are not gentle with Sabine. Hydan tries to make nice and she sasses him to hell and back, refusing to cooperate.

Sabine trying not to let her worry for Ezra show, when Hydan threatens that the Emperor will find him inside the World Between Worlds. <3

Vocal cameos from across the Star Wars canon as Ezra crosses the World Between Worlds. I know someone has identified all of them but I don't have the list at hand. Most of them aren't relevant to Ezra in any case.

Morai appears though, to help guide Ezra to the Malachor portal. I know it was suggested that Kanan helped orchestrate Ahsoka's rescue from beyond the grave, as some kind of "unfinished business" Kanan had yet to do before he fully pass on. Some people were confused why Kanan would want to do that, he was never particularly close to Ahsoka nor was he particularly as devastated by her apparent death. Not like Ezra.

I can accept that logic from the writers though, if it's Kanan trying to help Ezra finally assuage his guilt over Malachor, give him a chance to make things better. And give Ezra a Force Sensitive ally to help find him after everything is said and done.

Kanan knew he was going to die. Knew he couldn't be there for Ezra. So he arranged a way for there to be someone to look for and after Ezra after he was gone. He knew they would need Ahsoka's help.

My thoughts, anyway.

Ezra's quiet horror when the portal activates and shows him the tail end of the Malachor confrontation. :(

It is hilarious to think about how this must look to Vader and Ahsoka. On Vader's end he's swinging down and all of a sudden a hand comes out of a shimmering patch of air and just yoinks Ahsoka away into thin air and then the floor collapses under him and he just had to go back to Palpatine and explain all of that or else pretend that didn't happen, lol.

And then Ahsoka had to wake up in a weird place after fighting Vader and unpacking all of that My Master Is Evil trauma and then see an older Ezra in Stormtrooper armor, learn that Kanan was dead, help Ezra not break the universe, fight an apparition of the Emperor, and then run back to Malachor so she wouldn't break the universe either. Girl needs a damn nap after all that ha ha.

Sabine continuing to be super uncooperative with Hydan. He eventually loses patience and lets the Death Troopers smack her a bit. She's not badly hurt but the point comes across; she needs to play nice or else.

Ahsoka looks SO confused lol.

Vader echoes sound in the background, these ones attuned to Ahsoka, responding to the revelations she has just had about Vader's true identity. As well as an echo from the Daughter, when Ahsoka notices Morai.

(This resonates with what Filoni says about the World Between Worlds in a recent interview, that it attunes to whoever is currently inside, or the person inside only truly hears echoes that are relevant to them, the rest may as well be static and noise, incomprehensible.)

Ahsoka's the one who suggests Kanan's spirit is lingering, trying to guide and teach Ezra one last time from beyond the grave, through the manifestation of the Dume wolf, and yeah, it tracks. I kind of like the notion that Kanan clung to himself just long enough to make sure Ezra was okay before he let himself move on and dissipate into the ether.

Ezra latches onto the idea that Kanan meant for him to save Ahsoka, and then tracks that thought straight into "I can prevent Kanan's death too."

But it's not the same.

Ahsoka knows she has to go back through her portal and return to the time she left, sooner rather than later in order to prevent any kind of paradoxical damage to the timeline. But she can't leave the grieving Ezra in limbo and so she rushes after him to hold back his hand.

Once again, "You want a ride?" echoes, the moment Kanan first offered his hand and help to Ezra, which must be so intimately imprinted on him that it's what he always first hears.

"You can learn what it truly means to be a Jedi." And he's about to, Kanan, believe me.

Ezra's theme plays here. It doesn't complete, never making it to the second stanza. Ezra's not thinking straight. His words echo Anakin's, "I can stop people from dying!" He's too wrapped up in his grief. He's trying once again to reach for power that isn't his to grasp, in order to stop loss from happening to him.

He is attached.

Attachment in the Star Wars universe has a very specific connotation. It has never meant love, or relationships, friendships, other people, cherished places or things. It is all about one's own mindset when relating to those things. Jedi are supposed to love everyone, selflessly. But they are supposed to understand that nothing lasts forever. Things die, people move in and out of your life, the change happens and you can't stop it "Any more than you can stop the twin suns from setting." Shmi says. Children grow up and leave home. Being a Jedi, being balanced in the Force, means you accept the transitory nature of things and let go of your fear of loss.

Because fear leads to the Dark Side. Being afraid of loss, of being without the things important to you, makes you angry at what might try to take those things. Which makes you jealous, clingy. Greedy. Makes you grasp tighter. Makes you desperate. Makes you seek for the power to keep those things with you. And there the Dark Side is, calling to you, offering you that power. Promising to help you keep those things you want.

But it's a trap. The Dark Side will consume you. It will not help you save what you fear to lose, it will instead demand their sacrifice. The desire for power will overtake everything else, every other noble intention or motivation you had. What you intended to save you will no longer care about. The Dark Side will be all there is.

So you must let go of the things you fear to lose. Let go of that fear, and it will have no power over you. Accept the loss, and do not grasp for the power to break reality, to cheat the natural order, just to spare yourself the pain of not having that thing or person in your life.

Because you cannot go back down into Hades.

You cannot turn back time. You cannot undo death.

"You can't save your master," Ahsoka tells him, so so gently because she knows how hard this is. "And I can't save mine," she accepts.

And so Ezra looks at the portal, everything in him screaming in grief. And Ezra, who has abandonment issues and so much of his own worth and validation wrapped up in Kanan--"Kanan believes I can."--who thinks of Kanan as more a father than a teacher, who is still at heart a lost little boy who misses his parents... does one of the hardest and bravest things ever required of him.

He drops his hand, and turns his eyes, and lets go.

He faces the grief and loss head on, and accepts it. Doesn't let it master him.

And thwarts Palpatine one moment more.

Because the image of Kanan was not actually him. The Dark Side will never actually keep its promises. Or it will fulfill them in a way that makes it not matter. It all consuming, always hungry, never satisfied, and it will suck you dry.

The portal Ezra was tempted by leads straight to Palpatine. Who reveals himself like a cackling demon, shrouded and surrounded by blue flames.

Yikes.

Outside, Hera and Zeb are preparing to spring Sabine free of Hydan's "company", though not before she learns the way to seal the portal again.

The lovely dichotomy of "Sabine will know."/"He's on his way." is great BTW, they have so much faith and trust in each other.

Sabine's cheeky little, "Sorry about the mess." :)

I am fairly certain, though I can't find the post from Celebration that talked about it in overview, that Dave et all recycled several ideas from the planned Season 7 arcs for TCW into Rebels. This fight I'm sure was one of them, I remember something about fighting Palpatine in the basement of the Jedi Temple, where the nexus is.

Full male chorus for this moment, love it.

Palpatine won't give up so easily. He still needs to piggyback off Ezra's permission, because the Temple accepted Ezra and rejected him. If he cannot trick Ezra into being his anchor, he will simply attempt to latch onto him from the other side by force, through Sith sorcery.

YEAH NO THAT'S TERRIFYING.

Also fanficcers once again have let me down, I need way more Bad End AUs to this scene than just the one I wrote.

"When you get back, come and find me!" An obligation yet to be fulfilled. Hopefully the Ahsoka show will finish this out. *fingers crossed*

Ahsoka runs back off into the shot where her back was to the camera from "Twilight of the Apprentice" and Ezra escapes, to Palpatine's severe annoyance I'm sure. I would not want to be in the room when that happened, lemme just tell ya lol.

OH HEY HERE'S MY FAVORITE NO CONTEXT SIGNATURE SCENE. :D

There's so many things about this scene that I love. Sabine grabbing Ezra's arm to help him up. Zeb practically holding Ezra to him as they run, giving him cover from the blaster fire. Chopper's Big Damn Heroes moment as he drives a freaking drill (one he was eyeing earlier) into the crowd of Stormtroopers.

DEAN KINER'S EXCELLENT "THE TEMPLE COLLAPSES" MUSIC CUE WHICH IS OF COURSE MY FAVORITE OF THE WHOLE SOUNDTRACK.

Ezra looking immediately to Sabine to tell him which one to activate, because he trusts she's figured it out. Zeb helping lift him high enough to reach.

Ezra connecting to the Son, the score piping in with piano to signify the Force usage. Maybe Ezra is having to call upon the Dark Side, maybe he is just making a connection, but either way it's harder than it was with the Daughter. Takes more effort. He collapses immediately into Zeb's arms right after.

But look at Ezra’s expression:

The way his lips and eyes pinch, how his face tightens.  The minute tremble in his lip. It’s not anger or fear or passion he’s channeling here.

It’s grief.

Ezra falls unconscious into a Pietà pose (more on that in the messianic imagery post) and looks incredibly small here in Zeb's arms. This is such a soft moment and it's so sweet, I love it.

The mural turns crimson red and the Temple begins to seal and collapse. Removing itself from the physical plane of existence entirely, to deny Palpatine access.

Our heroes flee, Hydan perishes, the most gorgeous animation of the show splashes across the screen as the wolves return to their place, the Daughter and Son descend, and the Father claps his hands and sinks the Temple.

Ezra is barely conscious the whole time, a lot having been taken out of him. It's similar to how he collapsed in "Gathering Forces" and "Vision of Hope" and "Holocrons of Fate", too much Force energy exhausts him. As he fades out, Kanan's voice calls out from the white light.

"The Force will be with you, always."

By implication, "I'll be with you Ezra. I'm alive inside of you now."

And then all that's left is to say one last goodbye to Kanan, across the glasslike surface of the plain where the Temple once stood, into the rising light of dawn and the fading footsteps of the white Loth-wolf.

Kanan's theme plays us out over the credits.

These two episodes contextualize, and re-contextualize SO much about the overall story. Finally we know what Ezra was meant to do, what made him so special that the Force chose him, not as the Chosen One, but as a Chosen One, with a specific destiny and purpose that he needed to fulfill.

A child of Lothal, tested and found worthy by the wolves, who was already blessed by the Jedi Temple before. Favored by the Force to enter into its innermost sanctum to protect it from those who would desecrate it, twist it to their own purposes.

Ezra's narrative importance to the overall Star Wars saga becomes immensely clear. His character development is complete, and he now has the strength to stand against Palpatine's temptations, and the bravery to make the ultimate sacrifice for his planet and people. One whose results he won't even be able to see.

Just like Kanan did. Kanan's last lesson--To love unselfishly and give of yourself, even if means losing what you hold dear, simply because it is right and you are needed--will be Ezra's final act as well. And it took being asked to let go and accept Kanan's death for him to understand.

These episodes are beautiful in theme and message. The World Between Worlds is a fascinating perfect addition to Star Wars lore. The character work is fantastic and I can even pardon the clear favoritism in managing to bring Ahsoka back. I love these episodes so so much, they're my absolute favorites of the whole show.

We're almost done my loves, let's watch Ezra's character development pay off next time. :)