#i've lost track of the ships

[goldfishgrahamcracker]

The Terror (2018) is what finally makes an honest multishipper of me

[stabbyfoxandrew]

i tried to buy some shit off a facebook group and i think i've been scammed and i'm really pissed off TWT

[selfshipping-haven]

look at this fucking asshole i hate him(is not only married to him but went back to an episode they've recently seen just to watch him again)

[heyassbuttlmao]

I find it so funny how with dean it's like. destiel. maybe dean/jo if you're really attached to the early seasons. and then sam gets shipped with like every other imaginable person on the show. everywhere I look there is a new ship for sam. every time I think I have seen everything I possibly can I turn around and someone has found someone new to ship sam with

[sairitaikutsu]

*slowly devolving laughter*

i wrote short stories of a star wars rebels oc and accidentally shipped her with agent kallus in my head LMAO–

i haven't even finished the series yet...

edit: did an oopsie with the tags f

[holymusicalmothman]

I Can See You - Live Action!Sanji x Reader

Saw a post about wanting a fic with Sanji and this song that @its-a-show-stoppin-number posted and I knew I wasn't gonna get anything done until I wrote this. I've never written anything like this before to be honest. I kinda word vomited in a sense. The story just exited my fingers and here it is.

Warnings: Suggestive, kissing, secret relationship, nothing explicit, only implied, objectification of Taz Skylar's jawline, like. Why’s it so fine. Like. Dear lord.

No use of y/n, or those weird descriptor things, reader is gender neutral. Reader is however you imagine them

Word Count: 1.5K

Main Masterlist

It wasn’t something you had seen coming. It wasn’t like you, to be honest.

But he was just so damn charming. How were you supposed to resist?

Sanji hadn’t been part of the crew for long. A few weeks at most. But you had been watching him from the moment the crew walked into the Baratie. 

Tall. Strong. Nicely dressed. Polite. Respectful. Suave. Not to mention good looking. That jawline–in your defense, you HAD tried to ignore the blatant attraction.

Fleeting glances for almost a week, brushing past each other in the ship’s hallways. Fantasies filling your head. One specific dream of exchanging heated kisses in a dark corner had your mind racing whenever you were in the same room as the chef. 

It was impossible to function properly. 

Your job aboard the Going Merry was to document the events that occurred. Luffy thought it would be perfect to write down all of the adventures that would eventually lead to him becoming King of the Pirates.

And writing anything was impossible.

Blond hair and grey blue eyes kept your mind far too distracted.

So you decided to do something about it. 

Especially since you had caught his eyes on you repeatedly throughout dinner. 

So you took your time eating. A phrase which here means wasting your time until Luffy, Usopp, Zoro, and Nami had vacated the kitchen for the evening. Leaving you alone with Sanji.

As he stood to clear the dishes, your hand shot out, grabbing his sleeve and stopping him in his tracks.

You looked up into his eyes, your own wide with adrenaline. 

"Please tell me it's not all in my head." You said softly. "If it is, I promise, it'll be like this never happened."

"And if I say it's not all in your head?" He murmured the words, the tension so thick someone could have cut it with a knife. 

"Then I'd ask if you'd worry what the others thought. I'm not sure if relationships between crewmembers are allowed here. They weren't on my last crew. And I'm not too keen on asking Luffy if I'm entirely honest." You took a deep breath. "But I can't get you out of my head. It's like I'm addicted."

Sanji moved to rest his hands on either side of your chair, effectively caging you in. "So more like a secret mission. Just the two of us." He bit his lip and watched your eyes zero in on the action, a smirk spreading on his face instead.

You nodded, knowing you were in too deep to back out now.

Sanji continued, despite the fact that his eyes flicked down to your lips every few moments. "Everything professional, except when it's just the two of us."

You nodded again, your heart racing and palms sweating as the object of your desire leaned forward a little more, waiting for you to reach across that last gap separating the two of you.

Your eyes fluttered shut as that gap closed. 

As your lips careened into the chef's, he exhaled heavily through his nose, pulling you up to stand and then closer so you were pressed to his chest, your hands flying to tangle in his hair. 

The world around the two of you was a blur as you lost yourselves in each other. Clothes were shoved unceremoniously to the floor as you each tried to pull the other closer. You barely registered Sanji lifting you to sit on the kitchen counter, much less registering when the two of you had even moved from the table to the counter.

"You sure you want me sitting here?" You asked breathlessly, your newfound lover placing kisses down the length of your throat.

His laugh was husky against your throat. "It's a kitchen, darling. All the best meals happen in a kitchen."

That moment was the first of many. You had never regretted sharing a room with Nami more. While there were many kitchen escapades after that first one, the two of you still found a little thrill in having your secret. 

You spent time talking as well. You learned about each other. Likes and dislikes, pasts, dreams of the future. Sanji told you about his childhood with Zeff and his quest for the All Blue. You told him of your dream to be a famous poet one day and of your life on the sea. 

Something changed along those talking sessions. Something you liked. You wouldn’t call it a friends with benefits situation. You both knew it was something else, something deeper. 

Those words were just waiting to be said.

You two would lock eyes at random moments throughout the days and his eyebrow would quirk and you'd look away.

Nights would be spent with each other, sometimes words weren’t even exchanged. 

It was bliss.

One afternoon caught the two of you on the lower decks, encased by shadows. You had originally been working on writing down events in the logbook, but your lover had sought you out. 

Sanji had you caged up against the wall, kissing you with a fervor. As if you were the last meal he'd ever receive. 

He always kissed you like a starving man. 

However, you heard Usopp's voice getting closer to your hiding spot, calling for Sanji, and the two of you quickly separated and righted yourselves. 

He winked at you as you adjusted your skewed shirt. "You'll tell me more about how that dream of yours went later, right, darling?"

You smirked. "You wouldn't believe half the things I see inside my head." 

Sanji grinned, unable to resist capturing your lips in another kiss before slowly pulling away and heading down the hallway.

Nami cornered you later that day. 

"You've been hard to find lately." She stated. 

You shrugged. "I've been hiding away trying to find a quiet place to work on the log." This was the go to excuse. 

And Nami wasn't buying it. "It's been hard to find Sanji too."

Your eyes met her brown ones in questioning silence.

"I knew it." She muttered. "Sanji left his jacket on the floor in the hallway the other night. You do know we're not like other pirates, right? Nobody's gonna care if you two get together. 'Sides, pretty sure the only ones who haven't figured it out are Luffy and Usopp. But that's just a matter of time."

You were flabbergasted. "How in the--"

"You guys aren't very sneaky. Zorro found you two the other day. Plus the jacket."

Of course Zorro would find out first. But knowing that a relationship would be fine was also a relief to hear. 

You had just finished telling Nami about your's and the chef's so-called "secret mission" when Sanji brought lunch around a few minutes later. When he got to you, he handed you your food and your logbook. "You left this in the kitchen." And with a wink he walked away. 

"He's not even subtle about it." Nami stated.

You laughed. Sanji hadn't been subtle from the moment you met him at the Baratie. He had only stopped calling you 'madame' because you told him it made you feel old. 

He had immediately switched to darling, being far too suave and charming for his own good. 

You opened up your logbook. It had gotten easier to get back to your job lately. Apparently the dark hallway meetings and late night rendezvous worked perfectly in helping your focus.

You immediately noticed his note. 

"Meet me tonight"

You snapped the notebook shut, grinning like a schoolgirl,and Nami only rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You two are the weirdest." 

It was late when you began to make your way to the kitchen that night.

He must have been impatient, because you found him waiting down the hallway, still dressed in his suit and necktie. 

You never knew blue could feel like fire, but his eyes were smoldering as they met yours. He had you up against the wall in moments, his lips on your own.

He never did anything halfway, it was all or nothing. That thought crossed your mind as you began to lose yourself in the way he kissed you. In the way it was tender and yet passionate. In the way he caught your lip with his own. In the way he would sort of nudge his jaw forward in little movements. In the way his tongue always seemed to ask permission by gently touching your own lips and leading you into deeper and deeper kisses. 

You could drown in this man. 

The words slipped out in between kisses before you could stop them. 

"I love you."

But he just grinned. A smile so bright, were the sun out it would have felt threatened. Remarkably sweet for the heated exchange that had been occuring only seconds prior.

"I love you, too, darling."

And the heat was back. His hands, which had been holding you gently at your hips, slipped to lift you and press you harder into the wall as the passion returned. 

Only to come to a screeching halt as someone cleared their throat. 

Luffy stood a few feet away, struggling to mask his shock.

"While I'm happy for the two of you, maybe the hallways are not the best for such...activities?" he said.

You both nodded, mildly embarrassed to have been caught. 

As your captain disappeared further down the hallway, a laugh bubbled out of you.

Sanji turned to look at you, bewildered. 

Grabbing his hand, you led him away. "You heard our captain, gotta go somewhere other than a hallway."

Understanding spread across his face in the way of a knowing smirk. "I completely understand, darling."

I can see you, waiting down the hall for me, I can see you, up against the wall with me.

I can see you, throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you, make me want you even more

[grandline-fics]

hi! i just read all of your oneshots and they’re perfect, i’m in love. hoping it is okay to request something with zoro having a soft spot towards reader? he doesn’t even realize it a first, but since reader is somehow quiet and gentle (not weak though!) he starts to take note of small things to do/don’t do or notice their actions (ex: taking care o the crew) a lot more than others. thank you. <3

DESCRIPTION: Who knew you were Zoro’s soft spot? Apparently both of you are the last to know 

WARNINGS: none, just pure fluff

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 856

A/N:  Thank you for your kind words and for this request! I hope it's to your liking. I've been feeling a little under the weather these past couple of days so some fluff was needed <3

MASTERLIST

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

It’s tiny things; little, practically meaningless things that are so easy to miss but they’re there. When you first joined the crew, your presence fell into the likes of his and Robin’s; strong but relatively quiet and easily looked passed if you wanted. You didn’t see the point in wasting energy needlessly and knew the value in waiting until letting yourself be known. Zoro unknowingly enjoyed that kind of calm you naturally brought and found himself gravitating towards it because it seemed even when he was in his own space you were still in his eye-line. In the beginning he found it a little strange that it kept happening, he knew you weren’t following him. Hell most of the times you were on the other side of the ship or talking with someone else so he cleared it as coincidence and thought nothing of it. As time went on, there was a lot he was putting down to mere coincidence. 

When you were all exploring new islands it was purely happenstance that you two walked side by side. Neither of you were the type to bound about and race ahead without a cause for urgency. He found he didn’t get lost as easily when you were close. You always seemed to know the way to go. On one trip Brook had commented to Zoro how lucky he had been that you were there to talk to him at the right moment otherwise he would have kept walking towards a path that would have taken him towards a ravine. Because of your voice suddenly pulling him into conversation he’d kept the right track and avoided possibly injuring himself and getting a lecture from the others. Lucky right?

It was also luck of the draw that when eating or drinking off the ship, Zoro was sat at the table in such a way that his back blocked you mostly from view from any unwanted stares. It was never in a subconscious way to keep you from interacting with others but it was like another sense he had that he was able to tell when you just wanted to sit with the crew and enjoy your meal. It seemed to go both ways too in that regard. If women tried to approach and flirt with him you effortlessly had a way of making a joke to dissuade them and steer them in Sanji’s direction. Was any of it done out of jealousy, possessiveness of the other’s attention, or an overwhelming need to protect? Not in the least, it was just doing what needed to be done to help out a friend and fellow crew-mate.

On the Sunny it’s no different. It’s not even a second thought, his body just reacts without thinking. In the early, barely waking hours when he’s finished his night watch and is about to grab a quick snack before training he always pulls out a specific mug from the cabinet and sets it on the counter. It’s never for him and like clockwork you appear just as he’s finished drinking a glass of water. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and stifling a small yawn you always offer him a small smile and greeting that is returned. You both pass each other, your only motivation is caffeine to see you through the last of the watch before everyone else is awake while he goes to the crow’s nest to train. 

After all this time it’s never occurred to you to question why your mug is waiting for you when you rise. You don’t know why but it’s something that immediately makes your morning a little bit brighter. It’s also routine now that an hour or so after breakfast, you and Zoro both nap; him to rest between his training sessions and you to grab another couple hours after your night watch. Nami occasionally glances up from her charts to shake her head at your sleeping forms. Robin finds it adorable while Brook chuckles, nostalgic over youth and love’s first stages. 

“Jeez they’re both so clueless.” Sanji grumbles, he’s accepted long ago that he doesn’t have a chance with you but is so infuriated that nothing has actually happened. He lost you to the swordsman who hasn’t even thought to make a move. Usopp grins and watches as you stir slightly in your sleep which in turn makes Zoro react before his body relaxes again. Currently he’s lying on his back with one hand tucked behind his head. While the other that’s draped over his chest, his fingers almost touching yours that are curled by your head as you sleep on your side. 

From his spot on Sunny’s head, Luffy grins. “I don’t know. I think they do know, in their own way.” It’s the little, insignificant things that you both do for each other that are easy to miss and while a lot of little things add up into something bigger, none of it compares to the way that you and Zoro unknowingly look at each other at any given chance. Because that is something so big that no one else can ignore. 

[boss-poss]

See, Lethal Company's real genius is that it somehow marries two normally opposed genres, those being horror and comedy together into something greater. Mechanically it's a multiplayer looter extraction survival type game. It's designed to create stressful and scary situations by forcing you to speedrun mini randomized dungeons while monsters hunt your character to meet a certain quota (our asses are not making quota). That's not the clever part though, no, that's giving the players the ability to fuck themselves over and the hilarity that comes from it.

Anything you say into your mic is said in the game world and can be heard by certain monsters. Many items, similarly, can be used to make noise and you can bet there is little impulse control when a player finds an air horn or gets a walkie talkie. The sound of a distant honk somewhere out of nowhere is not something most players are prepared for while in a pitch black maze. Sound in this game has a doppler effect, which makes it harder to hear the further away the source is, allowing screams to fade into nothing and unintelligible yelling heard for a second before vanishing. You must rely on your senses but those are, by design, limited and regularly tricked.

Because level layouts, monster locations, and item spawns are all random, it's insanely easy to get lost or lose track of thigs, especially in the dark and especially when panicking. Seeing a bracken for the first time will almost certainly send a player running in the opposite direction and get lost, if they even see it all. No one is prepared to have a hand wrap around their face and snap their neck in an instant. It's utterly shocking and will leave you gasping in surprise to first time you experience it.

Certain weather patterns make levels harder, some even nearly impossible (looking at you eclipse), and sometimes your options are avoiding deadly lightning or not being able to see due to fog. High level moons have excessively valuable loot but also feature the worst foes and cost a fee to access, forcing a compromise between greed, ability, and resources.

Dying, likewise incurs a penalties. Your team is fined for dying and not bringing the bodies back but if you all die, all your collected loot goes poof. Gone. A team wipe can and will effectively end the run in an instant if you do something stupid like stick around when you hear "pop goes the weasel" or try to pick up that funny looking roomba. You can almost feel the pressure weighing down on your shoulders when you realize you're the last one left and you need to get back to the ship or miss the quota.

The monsters likewise, are engines of terror that are comically effective killing machines with no cohesive theme to help anticipate them. The already mentioned bracken is one of the scariest things I've seen in a game, and those technically aren't even that bad. They're completely manageable if you keep your head on a swivel and pay attention to your surroundings. Coilheads are these mannequins with bobble heads that will path to and kill you in a microsecond the moment you aren't looking at them, weeping angel style. There's a thing called the ghost girl that I have yet to see but is apparently one of the most terrifying critters in the menagerie. Forest giants. If you know, you know.

All these little mechanics, these choices that are made by and for the player, create a maelstrom of unpredictable chaos that, like a buxom blond transforming into an orgasming pooltoy, turns what would be strictly serious horror into a unique form of dark comedy that layers over it like jelly on peanut butter. You are scared, you are on edge, and it only gets worse when you know what these things are capable of, but the sheer hopelessness is something you all have in common. It's funny how little hope you have. You will die. A monster will wipe your team. There will eventually come a quota you can't beat. You were doomed from the start.

So why not get silly with it? Why not try to fight that bracken with shovel? Fuck him. Why not just run past a turret and try to nab that fat jar of pickles? Why not wander off from the group? You're just as likely to come back with arms loaded and the quota met as you are likely to not come back at all. You're already dead, so take the gamble, do stupid shit, repeat this hell until you can meet its horrors with grim determination and put in the effort to afford that goddamn boombox. Dance. Just press 1 and dance the fear away.

You are all united in your mortality and duty, fragile sacks of flesh working to break even at the behest of perhaps the greatest horror of all: The company you work for. You are so preposterously fucked beyond all belief from every angle there really isn't enough adjectives to describe it. And that's comedy baby, when things are so bad all you can do is laugh.

[ageingfangirl2]

Size Does Matter! Red Hair Pirates (One Piece)

Part 1 (Never Have I Ever) Red Hair Pirates x Reader (female)

After the eventful never have I ever game the crew are nicer to you, less teasing and pranks because Shanks was right about you knowing secrets because you were kind and trusting until you were crossed.

You walk onto the deck after documenting a recent attack that went in the crew's favour, and like de ja vu the crew were gathered around. The only difference was that it was the middle of the day and they didn't seem drunk. Before you can turn around and head back inside you catch your captain's eye and he motions you over smirking.

You sigh loudly, 'What fresh hell do you have for me this time?'

You stop in your tracks and raise both eyebrows in shock and surprise, 'err why aren't you guys wearing shirts?' you question, only now noticing the bare torsos of the crew. There was never a dull day on this ship.

Shanks clears his throat, 'We need you to judge and tell us who has the best chest because you have no bias.'

You bite your lip and feel your cheeks heat up, 'and what triggered this contest?'

Yasopp slings his arm around your shoulder and it's not lost on you when he flexes, 'Honestly couldn't tell you, but now we need your help.'

You casually remove his arm and shake your head, 'I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.'

Shanks chuckles, 'We won't judge your opinion. How about a top three instead of one?'

'Make it a top five,' Hongo interjects.

You nod, 'okay I think I can do a top five. I'll start with five and work my way up to one.'

Benn snorts, 'That didn't take much convincing doll. You have been looking?'

You shove Benn and pout, 'You guys use any excuse to strip, so yes I've looked. Do you want to be taken out of my top five?'

Benn's grin reaches his eyes, 'So I'm top five, I'm flattered doll.'

Shanks frowns and sticks out his lower lip, 'This is about physique, not friendship, so no favouring smoking buddies.'

You salute your captain, 'Fine no bias, but there's no denying Benn turns heads.'

'Let's get this show on the road,' Lime Juice calls out.

You take a deep breath and try not to laugh when they line up, 'Okay starting with number five...' you pause for dramatic effect, '...Building Snake because whenever he lifts me up I'm impressed.'

Building Snake winks at you, 'I'll take five.'

The rest of the crew stares at you eagerly.

'Number four would have to be Lime Juice because he works really hard,' you say nonchalantly.

Lime Juice and Building Snake fist bump.

You smile, getting into the groove, 'taking my third spot is Hongo because he's more subtle but catches your eye.'

Hongo beams with pride, 'Only two spots left captain, do you think you've made it?'

Shanks glares at Hongo who immediately shuts up.

'My number two chest goes to my smoking buddy, I mean look at him,' you laugh.

Benn salutes you, 'I'll take second.'

You eye up the remaining crew before pointing at Yasopp, 'Yasopp has the best chest, especially when he gives me gun lessons and holds me close.'

Yasopp rushes towards you picks you up around the waist and starts to spin you around, 'for once I beat the mighty Shanks, he didn't even make the list.'

Benn pats Shanks's shoulder, 'Better luck next time captain.'

Yasopp puts you down and you stumble a little, 'do you want to know why I didn't pick you, captain?'

Shanks nods, 'tell me.'

'Because your chest is on show like twenty-four seven and you have a little too much pride that comes across as boastful,' you answer honestly.

Shanks runs at you and you yelp before running away, 'Leave me alone.'

Mischief flashes behind his eyes and you take a step back out of fear, 'I'm going to make you change your mind love. Come here and touch your captain's chest.'

Shanks chases you around the ship while the others leave you two alone knowing how the chase will end, and it ends as everyone expects with the captain catching his prey.

You giggle loudly as Shanks wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you against his chest, 'touch my chest and tell me I'm not top five,' Shanks taunts playfully.

You place your hands on his chest admitting to yourself that his chest is equally impressive as the others, 'Top six at best captain, can't show bias towards my captain.'

Shanks growls, 'I'm going to climb your ranks mark my words.'

You pat his chest and smirk, 'Game on captain.'

You knew this wasn't going to be the end of this little competition. Maybe to avoid these situations in the future you should lock yourself in your room more.

[make-me-imagine]

Worth Saving

Plot: When you are on a stealth mission in a rebel base, Obi-Wan must listen from a distance. When you are found out, injured and trapped, Obi-Wan races to save you, even when you tell him it's not worth it.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Gn!Reader

Prompt: A is alone and hurt badly, they can talk to B through an earpiece/phone. Eventually A stops talking and B thinks they lost them. But they find them alive.

Requested By: Anonymous; this is a really old mystery prompt request lmao

A/n: I don't recall if they've ever even used ear-pieces in Star Wars except for with pilots in their ships, or if they just like...don't exist. But let's pretend they do lol

Warnings: Mild cursing, mentions of blood and death, wounds. Pretty angsty. Lack of a sense of self-worth from reader.

Words: 2.3k

-

You tapped on the new piece of hardware hanging over your ear as you walked through the darkened backrooms of the base.

"Is this thing working?" You asked in a hushed tone.

"Yes, I can hear you just fine." You heard Obi-Wan's voice come through with a small amount of static mixed in.

"Oh good, now I can have your voice in my head telling me all the things I do wrong all the time now."

You could almost hear the smirk on Obi-Wan's face at your sarcastic remark before he replied "Perhaps this will stop you from making your impulsive decisions then."

"Don't get your hopes up."

Obi-Wan smiled again as he checked his scanners again. Even in these kinds of situations you could always make him smile.

He was nervous for you, being alone in a rebel base with no real knowledge of what you were actually looking for. And he hated that he was so far away, unable to get closer due to the base's ability to scan for ships.

So you snuck in yourself. Obi-Wan insisted on coming too, but you needed someone to be prepared to get you out fast, besides, if you got caught, there was a higher chance of him being recognized. You had a better ability of blending in, and no one knew your face, you couldn't be tracked back to the resistance.

"Damn"

Obi-Wan's heart dropped when he heard you curse, immedietely sitting up in his chair his hands hvering over the ships controls in case he needed to make his way to you.

"Y/n? What is it?"

"Someones coming, hold on." Your voice was barely audible, but Obi-Wan held his tongue, and his breath.

You snuck into a nearby room and leaned against the wall in the darkness. The sound of people walking past echoed through your ears.

Your heart was hammering as you held the handle of your phaser tightly.

"Y/n?" Obi-Wan's voice spoke softly, worry obvious.

"I'm good." You whispered and you heard an audible sigh of relief.

Looking around the room you had snuck into, you realized it was full of computers and paperwork. Looking closer, you saw drives locked up in a cabinet. Your interest piqued, you inched closer, wondering if the information on the drives might be valuable.

"I found a bunch of data drives"

"Any way of knowing what's on them?"

Breaking the lock, you took as many drives as you could fit in your bag. "No Idea but I grabbed some. I'm going to try and get into their system."

Able to hack in, you were only able to find one file on a potential weapon development for the rebels before you suddenly heard the door behind you slide open.

You dropped down, trying not to be seen, but you weren't fast enough.

"There they are!"

Through the comm's Obi-Wan heard an unfamiliar yell before the sound of weapons fire was heard. Obi-Wan immediately started the ship and made his way towards the base.

Hearing you grunt in pain, Obi-Wan's heart dropped "Y/n?"

"I've been hit" You said with panic in your voice as you fired your weapon at the rebels. Killing one, and wounding the other, you managed to get out of the room.

You raced down the corridors, your abdomen burning from your wound. As alarms started to blare through the base, you looked for a way out, but as the sound of running approached, you felt a sense of dread wash over you.

"I'll be there soon Y/n, can you get to the pick up point?"

"I'll get back to you on that."

Weapons fire filled the comm's again and panic coursed through Obi-Wan. He knew it was too dangerous to send you alone, he hated that he didn't go with you, he hated that he didn't risk the resistance being linked to the mission.

When silence came through the comm's Obi-Wan spoke "Y/n, what's going on?"

He heard your heavy breaths through the comm "I can't get out, they've got the place flooded with people. Obi-Wan, they knew I was here. They didn't just find me, they were looking for me."

Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat "Are you sure?"

You nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see you "Yes, they knew"

Anger and worry coursed through him, who found out? Or, who betrayed you?

"Where are you?"

"I found a small storage room, I'm hiding in, I don't know if they'll find me. If they do, I'm screwed."

"How are your injuries?"

You looked down at your body and you swallowed. After the first hit to your abdomen in the control room, the ambush of rebels in the hall did more damage. You had been hit in the shoulder, arm and leg. It wasn't good, you already felt your body weakening.

Your clothes were burned from the phaser fire, the wounds were cauterized, but blood seeped from them due to your desperate escape.

"Not good."

Obi-Wan's stomach turned "I'm almost there, just hang on okay?"

"Obi-Wan, don't"

"Don't what?"

"Don't come for me."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm too far into the base, it's too risky. And I'm too injured. It's not worth it."

Obi-Wan let out a scoff of anger and surprise.

"You mean you're not worth it?"

You always had this mindset. You always threw yourself into dangerous situations so other's didn't have too, because you thought you wouldn't be as missed, that you wouldn't be worth as much, that no one would really care if you died.

And he hated it, he hated that you didn't see your worth. He hated that you didn't see how much he cared.

Your silence told him exactly what he already knew.

"How can you still think that?" He asked, his voice desperate "How can you think after all this time, after all the people you've saved, that you aren't worth it?"

"It's an occupational hazard I guess." You spoke softly, obviously in pain, but he could hear the forced smile on your face as you spoke.

You were never one to want to worry him, so you always made jokes.

"Even if I don't think I'm worth it. It's too dangerous for you. The base is flooded with people, you may be a jedi, but you can't make it through all of them to find me. You'll get yourself killed."

"I'm coming to get you Y/n, nothing is stopping me."

Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you weren't sure if it was because of the pain, panic, or the way Obi-Wan was speaking.

"Is this what it feels like to be you, when I make reckless decisions?"

You heard Obi-Wan let out a soft huff "Yes"

"No wonder you always get so upset with me."

"Occupational hazard" He mumbled as his knuckles turned white due to the grip of his hands.

He could hear your voice slowly getting softer, you were loosing strength.

"I'm getting close Y/n, just hang on."

You could hear the sound of footsteps nearby and fear coursed through you. You pointed you weapon at the door, prepared to fire if needed. Even if you'd die here, you wouldn't let them take you out easily.

The footsteps faded and you felt relief wash over you. You hissed as a jolt of pain shot through your stomach.

"Y/n?"

"Obi-Wan, it's too late." Your voice was softer now, as your eyelids grew heavier. Your clothes slowly soaked with blood, your wounds aching.

"Don't you dare say that. I know you're stronger than this, so just stay awake, I'm almost there!"

Obi-Wan could feel himself losing to his emotions, but he didn't care, not now. He couldn't lose you, he wouldn't.

"Always so worried about me, always caring so much more than others. Why?" You were mumbling but Obi-Wan could still hear you.

Obi-Wan felt his eyes burning, hearing the pain and worry in your tone "Don't you know?"

"Yes. But If I'm going to die I'd like to hear it at least once."

Obi-Wan shook his head, "You're not going to die. You're going to hold on, and I'll tell you in person. How does that sound?"

"So now you're trying to bribe me into surviving?"

"Anything to make you stay"

You didn't notice your grip loosening and your gun falling to the floor, or the way your body began to slump. You tried to focus on Obi-Wan's voice, to stay awake, but you felt yourself falling into darkness.

"I don't...think I h-have...a choice"

"Y/n? Y/n!"

When you didn't response, and he was only met with silence and static, dread washed over him.

"Y/n?"

Seeing the base come into view, Obi-Wan began to land his ship. Fear, anger and determination coursed through him. He wouldn't believe you were gone, not until he found you. And if- if you were dead, he wouldn't leave you here, not alone.

Obi-Wan managed to get half-way through the base before encountering rebels. After a fight, and a light wound to his arm, he made his way through the base again.

Reaching out with the force, he felt for your presence, any sign of you nearby. Feeling nothing, he felt his heart clench painfully in his chest.

Suddenly, just for a second, he felt a familiar presence, a sort of warmth washed over him, but then it was gone. But it was enough for him as he picked up his pace, and began running.

Finding a small door sort of hidden in a corridor, Obi-Wan knew it would be the sort of place you would go too. Going in silently, his eyes immediately spotted you at the back of the small room and his heart dropped.

You were still, no movement could be seen. Your phaser was lying on the ground beside you, your hands limp and head to the side. Your clothes were soaked with blood, as phaser burns could be seen.

Obi-Wan ran to you taking your face in his hands. He felt relief wash over him. You were still alive, though barely.

He knew it would e dangerous getting you out. He'd have to carry you, but he was not leaving you. Scooping you up into his arms, he made his way out into the corridor. He could hear the sound of footsteps nearby. Taking a breath, he started to run, to get you to safety, so save you.

--- --- ---

You weren't sure how long you had been in the darkness, lost and numb. But slowly, you started to feel as though there was someone in the darkness with you. Like you were underwater and someone was reaching for you, all you needed to do was take their hand.

"Don't go Y/n."

The voice was familiar, but you had trouble placing it. It was warm, it felt safe.

"I'm right here, we're almost out of this, just don't let go."

Suddenly, like a jolt of electricity you realized. It was Obi-Wan. He had come for you after all. But you were sure you were dead. Weren't you?

No. Not yet.

Darkness swallowed you again, but you felt lighter, as though you weren't drowning anymore, but floating, waiting to wake up.

When your eyes finally fluttered open, the room around you was unfamiliar, but the presence beside you was a comforting one.

Obi-Wan stared at you for a moment, surprised by your sudden consciousness. Relief followed quickly though as he leaned forward.

You met his eyes before you spoke, your voice soft "You came for me"

He smiled softly "Of course I did."

"Even though I told you not too."

"Yes"

Your eyes wandered to his arm, which was now in a sling. "You got hurt"

"Yes."

He saw the guilt cross your face and he reached out and placed his hand over the top of yours. You met his eyes again as he spoke.

"It's nothing serious. I got off a lot better than you did. You've been asleep for days."

You looked down at Obi-Wan's hand as it encased yours. "I heard you, talking to me. Telling me to hold on."

Obi-Wan smiled softly. He knew what you were referring too. When he finally got you back to the ship, he reached out to you with the force. He knew there was a connection to the force within you, even if you refused to acknowledge it. That was how you could hear him.

"And you did hold on."

You nodded softly, seemingly lost in thought. Obi-Wan squeezed your hand softly and you looked back to his face. Your eyes remained locked in silence for a moment before he spoke.

"You asked why I cared so much for you" He began, his voice uncertain, knowing the things he wanted to say were meant to stay a secret. Knowing he was going back on his own training and beliefs for simply feeling them.

You shook your head, stopping him "You don't need to tell me Obi-Wan"

Silence fell as your eyes remained locked. You knew how he felt, and he knew how you felt. But that was all it could be. And you both knew it.

In a moment of desperation, before you thought you were going to die, you wanted to hear him say it, just once. But now you were alive, safe again. And those words could no longer be said again.

"It's okay." You said softly, your emotion obvious in your voice "I know."

Obi-Wan smiled, but there was only sadness and regret behind it.

He wanted to tell you so badly, but both of you understood the consequences if he let those emotions take hold of him. You smiled at him, but there was sadness behind it. The same as he held onto.

You both knew how you felt, and you both knew that feeling was worth holing onto, worth saving until you could final feel it freely. But for now, it would remain unsaid.

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about how this came out, but I hope you enjoyed it!

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Star Wars & Obi-Wan Taglist: @hoeforthefictional, @asgardianhobbit98, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @maellem, @locke-writes, @stargirl-05, @linkxneptune, @skylions-den, @sardonic-the-writer, @emptyflowerpots, @hoodedbirdie, @gatefleet

[sgiandubh]

Lights, camera, shit show

I was just cleaning my OL folders (all those Chinese paintings and scrolls do take a horrendous amount of space, heh) and I just stumbled upon something I completely forgot to share and discuss with you. I found this particular article during my solitaire lurking months and I remember being befuddled by it for a long time, then thought I've lost it for good.

I don't remember ever seeing it shared or discussed in here, either and if, by any slim chance, I am wrong, kindly forgive me. That professional website is now closed, but its content is still available to browse:

Anyway, there goes: https://www.studiodaily.com/2018/06/outlander-dp-stephen-mcnutt-asc-csc-saucy-scottish-show/

We discussed Terry Dresbach and her inebriated rants, Vanessa Woman's devastating impact on set as Intimacy Coordinator, RDM's jealousy and many other aspects of life on the OL set. Rumors likely to have originated there peppered our shipping trail like flickering lights in a sea of darkness. So yes, we dissected these things to death. But not Stephen McNutt's interview to Studio Daily, on June 22, 2018 - please keep in mind the date, it is essential!

Stephen McNutt is a well-established professional and a member of the American Society of Cinematographers (ASC) and the Canadian Society of Cinematographers (CSC), as he hails from British Columbia. He also has a consistent track record of previous work with RDM, both on Battlestar Galactica and Caprica (its prequel). Therefore, one has to immediately suppose he was handpicked and brought on set by the same RDM, of course: set a very low bar on your expectations, I am warning you.

By the grace of RDM, he was one of the main Directors of Photography for OL during Seasons Two and Three. IMDb is not the best source for corroborating things, because they credit him with 13 episodes in Season Two (including La Dame Blanche- he is the Blue Room guy!), but only one for Season Three (First Wife), which is completely wrong. I even had to check some opening credits on Netflix (at reduced speed, ugh), because he speaks at length of A. Malcolm, something that would have made little sense otherwise. He was there, of course: and his is a first-hand account, heavily loaded with both innuendo and TPTB bullshit, up to the point of complete incoherence.

We focus on the three final questions:

This is a study in bullshitology, right here. The question asked is very clear and very technical: how did you approach those famous love scenes?

The answer is a mumble jumble of retcon, deflections, slips and overall impossible scramble for a logical explanation. I am doing a line by line, because this is almost too good to be true:

'(...) But as far as Cat and Sammy making love (...)' : um, hello and excuse me, I thought the question was about Jamie and Claire?!? And then we are delusional and can't fucking separate, when your own henchman, the Director of Photography no less, seems to be totally unable to do so, too? Hello? Also: 'Sammy'? 'Sammy'? What. The. Total. Fuck, and I LOLed then and I am still LOLing now. Terms of endearment overheard on set - but no, here comes the 'friendship' shite, hitting the narrative fan with Mach 5 speed. Objective? Explaining in a plausible way the hugging and 'keeping warm'. And I am sorry, but this begs the question: what the hell did this man see on that set? And how many people did see the same, hence the need to release such a gratuitous lie, for pure retconning purposes?

'They are not an item at all - I think she just got married'. Oh, fuck my life, man: you are such a terrible, terrible liar! Remember, that interview was taken in June 2018: after the OZ EFH and just about when C. was gleefully answering 'oh, God forbid!' every time she was prompted by press about her marriage plans. How can somebody with a pretty high trophic level and personal rapport to both S and C be totally unaware about C's marital status at the time? How can a long time acquaintance and coworker of RDM say no both to a friend and to a current boss (same person, the worst case scenario) asking for a favor, in that particular context? It also goes to prove that the shit show plot mainlines never originated with S and C and that the Remarkable Week-end was already planned for quite some time. By TPTB. With the full knowledge of RDM.

Let's suppose Mr. McNutt was so deeply engrossed in his work as not to notice all the people who must have congratulated C on set. I mean, I know who our (spinster) colleague from Accounting is currently banging and that guy is (mercifully) not among our staff (I totally wish them well, btw). Maybe because nobody congratulated C on that fakegagement? Also, you know them well enough to confidently say 'they are not an item', but don't know she was not married at the time and state an enormity with the same confidence? What in the name of the hoo-ha did I just read, here?

'I was always in such amazement of that.' In amazement of exactly what, Mr. McNutt? Surely not a woman holding hands or keeping warm with her gay co-star on set, huh? I mean, I need the best American English dictionary, here:

Again: what the heck did this man see? What comments did he hear? Surely, 'amazement' is a very precise choice of wording, with particularly enlightening synonyms:

Hence the need to end the demonstration with a deflection: 'They would just have fun.' You know, there is no such thing as a virgin whore, Mr. McNutt: you either are in such astonishment or you think your pals, good old S and C, such a funny girl, were having, well... 'fun', what else? You can't logically have both in the same paragraph!

And there we go: 'a very collegial atmosphere on set'. The answer is pure fool's gold, if you ask me: 'Nobody goes to sit in a trailer or says they aren’t showing up that day. '

And I laughed. And I laughed. And I laughed. I really don't know what this man is talking about. I never heard McTavish telling S to get out of that trailer ('nephew'). I never read the 'two very loved-up birdies' in a trailer a-rockin' Anons. I never watched that 2015 Anglophile SDCC interview, when S mentioned listening in their shared trailer to Erasure's Oh, l'Amour and C immediately reacted ('oh, did you just admit to that?'). But unlike me, McNutt must have been legally bound by a big cojones Non-Disclosure Agreement and morally bound by loyalty towards RDM, his friend, boss and benefactor.

This. All of the above. This is the real reason for all the bullshit you've just read: explaining a real, shocking love story by socially progressive regulations, allowing the cast to be 'much more happy'. I would laugh some more, if this was not sinister and cruel, in fact.

It is Love. A deep, strong one. But the seeds of the adverse narrative were planted early and deep, forcing even decent people like this guy to lie and smear himself a bit in the process. What we see and hear now are but better worded and more refined consequences of that fateful January 2016 morning in LA. And since I am allowed the dubious luxury only a healthy distance in time allows, let me remind you a simple, fun fact about this interview who stated they were never an item:

About ten months after McNutt uttered these words, the fandom was hit by the Covfefe Pics.

I rest my case.

[saturdaykru]

failed mission - B. Blake x reader

﹒✚﹒ masterlist ` , request ` , taglist﹒✚﹒

mixed in trigdasleng, will provide translations

Bellamy Blake x grounder!reader - Drop ship

You're an Azgeda assassin sent to kill Bellamy after the mass genocides to Trikru. Azgeda assassins are supposed to be stone-cold, and feel nothing, but what happens when a certain boy tries to gain your trust

cw: smut, nsfw, oral, a little violence

Day two

Sitting atop my horse, Swan, I was studying the boy beyond the trees. He knew I was here, he was also studying me as well. He goes by the name 'Bellamy Blake', an oddly long name, but a name you don't see every day.

I was here to kill him.

To deliver his head to my buyers, Titus, the fleimkepa, and King Roan.

I had been following this Bellamy for two days, he's known I was following him for a few hours, and my horse had given it away.

I like to study my targets, see what they are like, study their mannerisms, and how they survive. It isn't standard, most assassins would've had it done within the hour. I've had the chance to kill him plenty of times. He is always so vulnerable to attacks, or maybe he knows that and is testing me.

Bellamy carries himself well for the most part, he's a good shot but very loud, as most Skaikru are. It was fairly easy to track him. The first day I was sent he was at their initial landing spot, what they call a 'dropship'. I wasn't sure why he wasn't behind the walls of Arkadia, could they have banished him?

My thoughts were cut short when I realized I had lost sight of him, I couldn't believe I got so caught up in my own thoughts to realize he was gone.

I hitched Swan and treaded lightly to his last position by the river.

Under a rock was a note and a piece of fish, the note would've been nice if I could read it.

The ignorance of Skaikru.

It wasn't that I couldn't speak English, in fact, I was fluent, as all warriors and assassins are. Only the warriors are taught English along with Trigdasleng, it was so we could understand the Mountain Men, well when they were a threat.

Thank you, Clarke.

I had tossed the piece of fish back into the river as I didn't trust Bellamy, I mean I was here to kill him after all.

Looking into the dirt I saw a heavy set of footprints, foolish boy. They were leading back to the dropship, were he was spending most of his days. His schedule was very plain, wake up, walk to the river, eat, walk back. Very boring for a sky person.

I walked back to Swan to hitch her somewhere safe and headed towards the dropship carefully.

Clearly not careful enough as I ended up in a trap, a bear trap of some sorts. It didn't have jagged edges like a normal trap, it was flat and only applied enough pressure to injure my foot and land me on the ground.

"Who are you?"

I heard a voice call from the bushes, it was very easy to spot him as he was a fairly tall man. How stupid could I have been? I wasn't even watching where I was looking? The trap wasn't even hidden that well and I walked right into it. I got weak. Clumsy. I let my guard down. I could never call myself an Azgeda assassin after this.

Moments passed without an answer from me and he was growing impatient.

"I said who are you? I am not afraid to kill you, grounder." Bellamy yelled, now emerging from the bushes with a pistol in hand. I may have let my guard down but I wouldn't let this man intimidate me.

"Azgeda," I say flatly, not revealing anything else.

Bellamy pondered for a moment, his gaze on me remained strong, not daring to look away, it was clear I intimidated him.

"Ice Nation? I said who are you."

No response.

"Tell me or I swear I will pull this trigger!" He shouted, stepping closer until the barrel of the gun was against my forehead.

I had already accepted death.

"Ai gonplei ste odon." My fight is over.

Bellamy had pistol-whipped me, and before I knew it I was knocked out.

Day three

I had awoken tied to the ladder in the dropship. Looking around I saw that most things were covered in tar from the fire, the only clean things being Bellamy's makeshift bed and his other belongings, as well as all my armor and layers, leaving me in a simple t-shirt; which I could only assume was his, and my jeans.

I was tied down with leftover seatbelts, very sturdy, I had struggled before finally giving in after a headache caught up with me.

I groaned in pain, death would've been kinder than a pistolwhip. Where even was he? Had he just left me here to rot?

A few moments after Bellamy had appeared from behind the red tarp acting as a door, he was wearing what he always wears. A gray shirt paired with his usual black jacket, with certain patches gone missing. His hair and face had been littered with dirt and blood, though I was sure the blood wasn't his.

"Good, you're awake. Makes this a lot easier." Bellamy spoke, swiftly walking to his pack next to his bed. My worry grew when he pulled something out, was he going to kill me now?

He pulled out a water flask and walked over to me, I'd never drink from an enemy's flask.

Bellamy put the flask to my mouth, when I pulled my face away he sighed and took a sip himself to show me it was safe. I still didn't trust it.

I took a big sip, and once he pulled it away I spit the water back into his face. He pursed his lips, seemingly trying to keep his anger down. I'd never be this man's peace.

"A bath would do you good, ripa." Murderer. Even without a bath, his scent was.. likable.

He scoffed amusingly, "That's funny coming from you, grounder."

Bellamy stood up, wiping away the water with his hand and turning his back towards me.

"What do you want from me?" He continued, grabbing a chair and sitting it close in front of me.

I refused to answer, I only stared at him with anger.

"I have all day, princess." He spoke, leaning back in the chair and pulling out a wrapped ration from his pocket. He was going to eat in front of me, what kind of torture method was this? And princess? Who does Bellamy think he is?

A few hours had passed since then and I really had to go. I'd been holding it in for hours but I was at my limit. Bellamy was still staring at me through it all, he could tell I was starting to get uneasy.

"I need to go..." I let out in a barely audible whisper, quickly regaining his attention.

"What was that?"

"I need to go."

The dots seemed to connect in his mind and he nodded, getting up ready to let my wrists free.

"Tell me your name first," Bellamy demanded.

Are you serious? Of course, he would stoop this low.

"y/n," I spoke with a sigh, I had no other choice but to give in. And with a nod, he freed me- well, for the most part, one of my hands was still attached to a seatbelt, which he was holding.

Bellamy led me out of the dropship and to the side, god, this was so embarrassing.

"Can you at least turn around?" I questioned, my voice wavering for the first time since I met him. So much for not being intimidated.

With a silent nod he turned to the side and I did my business, a real gentleman, pistol-whipping me, and tying me up.

Though I had no room to speak.

Day four

I was back on the ladder, and Bellamy was in his now usual spot. Right in front of me. I hadn't eaten in two days, he knew this. And he used it against me.

"Now, princess, why were you following me?" Bellamy questioned, waving a piece of fish in his hand, like I was some dog he was rewarding for good behavior.

Was he trying to train me?

I had come to the conclusion I either answer the question or die of starvation. I already failed the mission, I could never return to Azgeda or Polis. I couldn't face what was waiting for me.

"I was hired to kill you." I flatly state, eyeing the fish and practically drooling over it.

Bellamy seemed satisfied with this answer and handed me the piece with a small nod, which I quickly scarfed down. I watched him pull another from the little silver bag.

He really was training me.

"Why didn't you? You've been following me for a few days, and had plenty of chances."

I thought about my answer for a few seconds, "You were intriguing. You didn't act like how they described."

He only smiled at this, for reasons I couldn't comprehend. But I got another piece of fish so I didn't really care.

"Well, until you pistolwhipped me," I added in between bites. His smile slowly faded.

"Sorry about that, I didn't wanna kill you."

"Cause you needed answers?"

He hesitated.

"Yeah."

Day five - smut

The isolation had started to get to me, Bellamy being the only person I could see, and I started to notice more things about him. The way his back muscles would flex when he changed clothes. How defined his arms were and how defined his entire body was.

I cursed myself for having these thoughts about Bellamy, I was his prisoner, and I should be scared for my life.

It was particularly hot this morning, so Bellamy decided the best option was to be shirtless. All. Day.

His chest was well shaven surprisingly, and his pants sagged low, low enough to see his V line. That only brought worse thoughts. Thoughts I couldn't suppress.

He hadn't asked me any questions since I've awoken, I assume he's given up and doesn't need me anymore.

"Like the view?" He asks, snapping me out of my trance, how long had he known I was staring?

His gaze on me was intense. He knew I wouldn't answer his question so he only stepped closer and closer, leaning down when he got close enough to me.

"Keep looking pretty for me, yeah princess?" He spoke, his voice becoming husky.

A bright red tint lined my face at his words. Nobody had ever spoken to me in that way. I couldn't reply, too filled with nerves to form a comprehensible sentence, all I could do was stare at the handsome man before me and hope he didn't notice how vulnerable he made me.

Bellamy seemed to get an idea, with a smirk he stood up and sat back in the chair.

Leaning back he began unbuckling his belt, pushing his pants just below his bulge. I was more turned on than I'd ever been. Was he really going to do what I think he's gonna do? Now this is torture. Not being able to touch him.

Bellamy started palming himself through his boxers, letting little grunts slip past his mouth, meanwhile maintaining full eye contact with me- though my eyes were focused on his hands. I wanted so desperately for that to be my hands touching him, my hands making him feel good.

A few seconds passed before he pulled his boxers down just enough to reveal his entire cock, causing me to clench my thighs together tightly; craving any friction I could get. I now only realized the shirt I was wearing still had his scent on it, it was intoxicating.

He started stroking himself slowly, leaning his head back in pleasure. I needed him.

"Bellamy," I spoke, my voice laced with lust and need, my entire body feeling warm. His name sounded so good coming from my mouth. Bellamy's eyes locked back with mine as his pace quickened.

"Princess," His voice sounded breathy. The nickname did no help in calming me down. I wasn't sure what to say next.

Bellamy stood up and walked closer to me.

"On your knees." He demanded, to which I quickly obliged, finally getting what I wanted. I got to my knees and looked up at him, his cock resting on my rose-tinted cheek while his hand caressed my other cheek, moving down to my mouth and running his thumb along my lower lip; asking for entrance.

Opening my mouth I felt his thumb explore it, pressing softly against my tongue, all the while maintaining eye contact with me.

"So good for me." Bellamy praised before tapping his tip against my tongue, the taste being surprisingly good given the limited resources. He slowly inserted his cock into my mouth, releasing a loud groan of pleasure once he hit the back of my throat, the warmth feeling amazing against his dick.

His hand instinctively grabbed ahold of my hair, holding my head in place as he started throat fucking me. I began breathing through my nose and using my tongue to feel against his shaft. Bellamy's moans only grew louder and his breathing became erratic.

My mouth was doing this to him, I was making him feel so good.

"Just like that." He whispered between moans, noticing the tears that began to coat my cheeks.

His free hand gripped the ladder steps above my head. The hand on my hair gripped tighter than before, I could tell he was close.

His tip hit the back of my throat relentlessly, I was sure I'd have trouble speaking after this, but its be so worth it. I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, his thrust slowly becoming sloppy.

"Doing so good, princess, so good, so fucking good."

My throat began to hurt from the abuse of his dick, and with one final deep thrust, I felt his warm cum fill my throat, forcing me to swallow every drop of the salty substance. Once he was sure he was done Bellamy pulled out, leaving my mouth feeling empty, missing the feeling of his cock. He was covered in sweat and I was covered in tears, but in this moment he never looked sexier.

I felt my hands drop to my sides, was he letting me free?

"Let's get cleaned up." He spoke, dropping the seat belt completely and helping me up. I stumbled a bit but used him as support. I was free but I didn't want to run.

In this moment nothing else mattered but him.

﹒✚﹒ masterlist ` , request ` , taglist﹒✚﹒

feedback always welcomed, also thinking of doing a part 2 possibly

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[genderqueerdykes]

Ditch Etsy for Good: A Disabled Etsy Seller's Experience

i started my Etsy store in August of 2022. I was in desperate need of income at the time, as I am disabled, and waiting for my full disability payments to come through. I currently make $245/month off of a general assistance program that's meant to "help" while you're waiting for those payments.

I needed, at the time, $900/month for my studio apartment, because I was on a month-to-month lease, and could not re-new it, as I was the secondary renter, and my abusive ex whom I could not contact was the primary renter. They needed his signature to renew the lease, or else I was on month-to-month status, which meant they could increase my rent to whatever price they saw fit at any point.

I was struggling to stay alive. I had a bunch of kandi supplies I had gathered over the years, pony beads, string, all that kind of stuff. So i accrued some extra supplies to make other types of necklaces and chokers. Keep in mind my level of poverty, and the level of inflation in 2022. I was having to accrue supplies secondhand, from thrift stores. Everything I bought and sold was upcycled, save for the few times I could afford things to fill in the gaps from craft stores.

After I gathered supplies, I went to work. I spent countless hours making all types of jewelry. Not really sleeping. Just countless hours of stringing beads, if I woke up in the middle of the night from a bad dream or stress about homelessness, I would go back to work. I've been homeless before. Several times. Never lived on the street or in a shelter, but I have lived in hotels, cars, crashed on couches and have run from getting kicked out for making little money endless times.

I drank a lot of coffee and ate very little. Eating consumed time, time that I didn't have. Once I was done making things, it was time to photograph every. single. item., then edit them, and upload them to Etsy. I had to create listings for each individual item, all of which cost $0.20 to create, and again to renew when it ran out in 3 months if not purchased. There was already a start-up cost.

Shipping made my life a nightmare. Etsy charged me for each and every single label. I tried free shipping at first, as it's a huge draw for customers, but labels were around $3.69 from my state to the mainland United States at the time, creeping ever closer to $4. For anywhere else it would easily come to $10 or more, international shipping was easily $20 - $40. Even if the customer paid for shipping I still had to go through the process of purchasing a label.

This didn't account for the fact that I had to purchase printer, ink and paper at some point to keep printing these labels. Ink is wildly expensive and your cartridges run out faster than they should. They are rigged to flag as empty when they're not. This also does not account for ink and paper lost when the printer does something in error, which is often. The office at my apartment complex was willing to print labels and packing slips for me for a while, but they cut me off after a few months.

The biggest kick in the teeth was the processing time for my payments. Because I shipped my first few orders without tracking labels. Etsy put a hold on my money for the next 3 months. They would take a random amount of time to process each payment. I could never figure out the schedule. My money would sometimes take days or weeks to arrive when I set Etsy to a "daily" payment schedule. It was torture. I was sweating over not having money constantly, and missing payment deadlines left and right.

I was getting orders at every hour of the day. I didn't "clock out" of this job. I had to change the notification sound of the Etsy Seller app on my phone because when I heard it, I would panic. I wasn't excited, I was filled with dread. It was never ending, and I was constantly stressed about getting orders out on time. I never had time to rest. I didn't get days off. I was on the job 24/7. Unless you completely uninstall the Etsy app and refuse to check it fora while, you can't really clock out of this job.

This isn't even touching the fact that Etsy also takes a cut out of every single sale you make, meaning you have to jack up your prices wildly either to make free shipping reasonable so you're not losing money on each sale, or you have to play a dance of figuring out what the best balance between shipping and item costs are, which is time consuming. It's a lot of math and comparing against your niche's market.

Etsy has an ads feature, which you must again pay for, where they will run ads for your products in random banner ads and whatnot. You are charged if one customer clicks the ad, not purchases something, meaning this is a complete fucking scam. The minimum is $1/day and you are forced to subscribe monthly. You can cancel at any point, but sometimes it takes a full day for this to cancellation to go through. The Etsy Ads feature sucks ass. I received exactly 2 orders through their service and kept it on for a few weeks here and there. It's horrid. You do not receive a significant enough boost in traffic to make the investment worth it. Also consider how many people use adblockers these days. This isn't hard to see.

The amount of time you have to spend promoting and boosting your own shop, buying supplies, creating and photographic products, uploading them to the website, and everything else in between is not worth the amount of money you make. You do not turn a profit unless you are selling very high end products like fine jewelry and antiques. Anyone else in the bottom rungs loses money through one avenue or another, Etsy finds ways to make the entire process draining and expensive for the seller.

The also will not provide you a 1099 document to file your taxes for your earned income unless you have made over $25,000 in one year on Etsy, which is literally impossible unless you make, as I said, fine jewelry. The average Etsy seller does not make this much in one year. We do not make a liveable wage, yet Etsy pretends like we do.

I didn't realize how draining it was to run this store until I put it in vacation mode. I'm shutting it down as soon as I'm able to. I could not handle the pressure of orders coming in in the middle of the night. I could not handle the pressure of not being able to remember which bracelets I could wear, and which ones were up on the store. Or which ones I could give to friends freely without having to issue someone a refund because I made a mistake. The worry of sending the wrong customer the wrong product was constantly on my mind. Every review that came in made me scared I had fucked up or provided an inferior product. I was distraught, broken and scared.

Now I'm much more free. The piddly jackshit amount of income I made was not worth it at all. I don't think I made back the cost of supplies and I definitely was never compensated for the sheer amount of labor I put into my products and orders. Etsy just kept kicking me while I was down and now that they have made it so that you are unable to file a class action lawsuit against them, they are only becoming more tyrannical.

Etsy does not care about their small sellers. They only care about the big cash cows who bring in big views and line Etsy's pockets with the Etsy Ads program. If you're too poor too keep up they'll chew you up and spit you out. Fuck Etsy. Fuck the lack of respect for their sellers. Fuck them for holding my money randomly for 3 months because I didn't know tracking labels were REQUIRED in their eyes. Fuck Etsy for never letting me know when I was getting paid, and for paying me on such an irregular schedule. Fuck Etsy for the fucked up fees and expensive shipping labels.

Fuck Etsy for everything. Let them go. Cut the cord. Navigate to Ko-Fi or somewhere else. Let this horrid site fucking die.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Hunted

Summary: It's may just be a silly game, but the reward is well worth it. Or, Hunter hunts you down and fucks you with his armor on.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, armor kink, Hunter keeps his helmet on, unprotected sex, hunter/prey kink, outdoor sex, definitely not safe sex, rough sex, Hunter is a Dom, the author's exhibition kink shining through once more, authority kink, praise kink, a little dumbification, I've lost track it's very kinky.

A/N: 😏 If you know, you know.

MASTERLIST

You’re exhausted. 

Your legs are tired, lungs burning, but you can’t stop. You’d only gotten a short head-start, and you know it’s only a matter of time. 

You weave through the trees, dodging limbs and roots. Tripping now could spell the end for you. You have to get into town. Just make it through the gate and you’ll have the advantage. The sensory overload will throw him off, giving you just a moment to rest. 

You’re close, the wall that surrounds the city visible as you crest a small hill. Just a few more yards and you’ll break the treeline. 

You don’t make it. 

Something hits you from behind, forcing you onto the ground. The sudden impact knocks the air from your lungs, stunning you enough for them to incapacitate you. Your back hits the dirt, the figure trapping you underneath them. You don’t fight. You’re too tired and you know there’s no point. You won’t escape. 

You stare up at the visor on his helmet, his face hidden from you. You have no idea what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, what his next move will be. 

“Clever girl,” He smirks, voice low and rough behind the modulation of his helmet. “Doubling back and using the stream to try and cover your tracks.” 

You pout, chest still heaving under him. “You never let me win.” 

He chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “You know it’s far more satisfying for both of us when you lose.” 

You can hear it in his voice. Even without needing to see his face, you can tell he looks like a wild animal ready to devour you. 

“You can still get the same ending, even if I win.” You say, chest brushing his with every inhale as he leans in closer. 

He leans down until his helmet is inches from your face, close enough you could feel his breath without it. “It’s much more satisfying this way.” 

“Satisfying for me or you?” You ask, words ending in a gasp as he presses his hips against yours.

You can hear the grin in his voice as he shifts, one hand dropping to tug your skirt up around your waist. “For both of us, I’d hope.” 

A shiver runs down your spine as he forces your thighs apart, revealing the slick folds between them. His gloved fingers drag up your slit, soaking the fabric. Your hips press up into his hand, grinding against his fingers for some relief. 

“So wet for me.” He groans, his sigh crackling through his helmet. 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been turned on since you left the ship. Just the knowledge of how this little game would end, regardless of who won, was enough to dampen your underwear. That was probably how he found you. He could smell your arousal from a mile away. 

Sometimes you wish he’d let you win just so you could say you’ve won once. You know he’d never let that happen, but you could dream. You’d have to actually beat him to get those bragging rights. He’s too skilled, though. He’ll always win, and he’ll always get what he wants. 

“Such a needy thing.” He practically purrs, his codpiece hitting the ground next to your head. “Could smell you before the ship even landed.” 

Your hands curl around the hem of your skirt in anticipation as he frees himself from his blacks. Your lips part with a gasp as he drags the head of his cock through your folds, already hard and leaking. You wonder how long that’s been pressing uncomfortably against his codpiece. How he managed to run with it was beyond you. 

Maybe it was a testament to his determination to catch you and have his way with you. 

You let out a quiet sound, hips trying to press against him as he teases you. It’s been far too long since you’ve been able to get any relief. You need him desperately. “Hunter, please!” You whine, pouting in hopes he takes pity on you. 

He tsks, hand releasing his cock to grip your face. “None of that. I won, so I get to do as I please.” 

He shifts back on his knees, pressing your legs apart. He stares down at your pussy, thumbs spreading you open. Your toes curl in your boots in anticipation. You wish he’d put his mouth on you, but there would be time for that later. You don’t doubt after he has his way with you now, he’ll find a way to empty the Marauder for a couple hours later. 

You can feel the slick gush from your pussy at the thought. 

He chuckles, thumb ghosting over your clit. “What’s going through that head of yours?” 

“Want your mouth on me.” You whine, fingers coming to grip the backs of your knees, desperate for anything to hold on to. 

He huffs out a laugh, helmet lifting to stare at your face. “Well that’s too bad.” He brings his hand down, slapping your pussy. You yelp, pulling your knees closer to your chest in response to the sting. “I’m in charge.” 

He rubs his hand over your pussy, easing away the pain he had just inflicted upon it. “I need you to say it.” 

You whine, biting your lip. Another yelp is pulled from your throat as he brings his hand down once more, the wet slap of his hand on your pussy loud among the trees. You weren’t that far from town. The chances of someone stumbling upon you accidentally aren’t that low. 

“Be a good girl and say it.” He commands, shifting into the voice he used on the battlefield, when he was commanding his squad. 

You whimper, body bracing for another slap. “You’re in charge.” 

Your body jolts as his thumb circles your clit, a jarring contrast to the harsh sting of his slap. “That’s my good girl. Now, are you going to behave?” 

“Yes, Sergeant.” You mumble, already feeling yourself beginning to fold under his authority. 

He shifts over you once more, hand gently cupping your cheek. “Always so good for me.” His voice is so soft, such a contrast to the wild animal and the stern commander you had just seen. 

You whimper, but remain still as his cock teases your folds once more, gathering your slick on his head. Your nails dig into your skin as he presses the head of his cock into you. He’s so big, always such a stretch. 

“So tight.” He groans. “So perfect for me.” 

You’re shaking by the time he’s seated fully inside you, his body resting heavily on top of you. The edges of his armor bite into your skin, leaving indents that will last for a while, but you don’t care. You can hear the quiet puffs of his breath through his helmet as he presses his face close to yours, pressing his forehead against yours. 

He holds himself there as he begins rocking his hips, your eyes staring up into his visor as he cages you in with his arms. Your body jolts as he snaps his hips into yours, his cock gliding easily through your slick walls. There’s going to be a damp spot on his blacks, and maybe some on his armor at this rate. 

Your hands are desperate to touch him, desperate to feel him even with all his armor on, but you know better. You’ll have marks on the backs of your legs from your nails but you don’t care. If he stops now, you might cry. 

You’re close, hours of being worked up aiding in your rapidly approaching orgasm. He pulls his head back from yours, staring down at you under him. Your lips part, moaning loudly as he fucks you. You can barely think, stammering incoherently under him. 

“So pretty like this.” He says, his groan crackling through the helmet. “So cock-drunk you can’t even speak.” His hips snap into yours, his cock brushing that spot inside you. You arch under him, eyes rolling back. “Such a needy little thing.” 

You could cry from how good he’s making you feel. He knows just what to say to get you worked up, so close to an orgasm he’s not going to give you the satisfaction of having. Not yet. 

“Hunter!” You cry, desperately fighting the urge to cum around him. 

He stops, body going rigid above you. You realize what you’ve done, eyes snapping open.

“Want to try that again?” He asks, the warning clear in his tone. 

“Sorry, Sergeant.” You say, practically pleading with him. “Make me feel so good. Can’t think with your big cock filling me up.” 

He stays still above you, staring down at you. You wish you could see his face, wish you could read him, see anything that might give you a hint as to what he’s thinking. Anything that might give you a hint your pleading worked. It’s so much worse like this, when he’s hidden from you. He could be feeling anything and you wouldn’t know, not until he reacts. 

He shifts his weight, his hand lifting to grip your face. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. Been so long since you’ve had my cock you can’t even think straight.” 

“Yes, Sergeant. Been too long.” You pout, walls fluttering around him in need. 

He hums, releasing your face as he braces himself over you once more. “My good girl. Always so perfect for me.” 

You practically preen under his praise, tears filling your eyes as he starts thrusting into you again. You’re so desperate, so needy for him. For any sort of release. 

His arms slip under your back, pressing you closer to his chest. The plastoid chestpiece is uncomfortable, but you wouldn’t dare say anything, not when his helmet presses into your neck, forcing your head to the side. 

“Cum for me.” He breathes, snapping his hips into yours wildly. The backs of your thighs are going to be red from his armor, but you’ll wear it proudly. “Let me feel you.” 

Your arms wrap around his back and you scream his name as you cum, soaking his blacks and his armor as pleasure ripples through you. His hips jerk, hot cum filling you as he releases inside you. 

You’re both panting and groaning as you come down from your highs, neither of you moving to release the other. You would stay like this forever if you could, but you know it’s only a matter of time before the others get worried at your absence. 

He lets out a long groan, shifting his hip so his softened cock slips from your walls. He untangles himself from you, sitting back on his knees to stare at his handiwork. Your body is slick with sweat, thighs and pussy red from his hands and his armor. There’s indents in your soft skin from it, his fingers trailing along them just for a moment. 

“So beautiful.” He murmurs. “Always so good for me.” 

You smile softly, letting him pull you to your feet. He steadies you as your legs figure out how to support you once more, fixing your skirt. He brushes the dirt from your back before his hand settles on your ass, squeezing a cheek. He leans down, breath crackling through his helmet as he leans in close to your ear. 

“You better keep my cum inside you.” He growls, your legs already shaking as you clamp down desperately to keep his cum from sliding out. “I want to eat it out of your pussy when we get back.” 

Taglist:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis, @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry

[hubristicassholefight]

Hubristic Assholes Tourney round 1 part 4a

Eustass Kidd (One Piece) vs Magolor (Kirby Series)

Propaganda below cut (Beware spoilers)

Eustass

Challenged one of the strongest pirates in the world, got wrecked and lost an arm, only to challenge the same overpowered guy again two years later and get absolutely consequence'd. Between those two occurences he has been nothing but a rude and violent menace; purebred stupid asshole, absolute unit of a motherfucker who physically cannot quit fucking around and finding out

Magolor

He used Kirby and his friends to steal the Master Crown, an object of limitless power, to rule the universe, but it only ended up possessing him and morphing him beyond recognition; he is a sopping wet cat that after betraying kirby and friends and making his way out of actual hell, made an amusement park for kirby to apologize for his misdeeds

Tries to fight a dragon that's guarding an ancient legendary crown that grants ultimate power (the Master Crown), gets his ship shot down by it. Crash lands where Kirby finds him and he lies to to Kirby to get him to fix his ship, and lies about the dragon stealing the crown from *him* to get Kirby to defeat it on his behalf. He takes the crown for himself and wears it to transform into a more powerful form and attempt world domination, but the crown contains dangerous dark matter, which starts to take control over him during his boss fight with Kirby (he can be heard yelling for kirby to help him in the bg of one of the boss fight tracks). When Kirby defeats him he gets sent to Another Dimension, loses almost all of his powers/health (both those granted by the crown and the powers he had before) and his clothes turn into rags. (also his cool senient boat who used to fight Kirby with also abandons him). The epilogue of RTDLDX is him having to fight his way through the (previously weak, now formidable) enemies of the dimension to slowly regain his powers/defeat the crown that previously controlled him to escape into the Kirby Clash dimension; His epilogue outfit is the most sad wet cat character design I've ever seen. Also post-redemption he still references his villain monologue/desire for world-domination a few times as a bit which is fun

[offtorivendell]

The Cauldron and its far reaching threads; who is susceptible to the puppet master, and how might it work?

Disclaimer: this is a massive crack theory that I have held off posting since June 2022, but fuck it I guess, let's go! This is not a shipping post.

As usual, I am absolutely NOT suggesting that anyone who is influenced by the Cauldron is inherently evil in any way. This is just a crack theory. If you can't interact respectfully, then please keep scrolling.

Spoilers: ACOTAR series to date, and massive character spoilers for River Song and the Ponds from Doctor Who (if you care about that) in part 2.

Part 1 - Cauldron Made Beings

This first section will be stating some of the obvious, as we know, per Amren in ACOSF, that Cauldron-Made beings are able to be influenced by the Cauldron, though the “how” is not yet clear. @wingedblooms has theorised extensively about the living bond that Elain Archeron may share with the Mother's crockpot, and I suspect that this bond may also tie (terrible pun, sorry) into how the Cauldron can exert control: by pulling the “bond” threads that connect it to its former inhabitants.

Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. “It was a fluke, Amren. Nesta didn’t make it on purpose.” Amren shook her head, hair swaying. “Nothing is a fluke. The Cauldron’s power flows through Nesta, and could use her as a puppet without her knowledge. It wanted those weapons Made, and thus they were Made. It wanted Rhysand to have them and thus the blacksmith brought them to you. - ACOSF, chapter 42

Finding the link would be basically impossible at this point, but I've previously mentioned that I wonder if the Cauldron's dark maker could be Koschei, or another death god/Daglan. To briefly rehash my thoughts: if there is a dark maker, it stands to reason there be a light maker, too… is it the Mother? Could Koschei be the dark mother that the Naga referred to in ACOTAR, as the terms “mother” and “maker” could demonstrate in-universe evolution of the same word? I've also previously theorised that Koschei may have been controlling the Cauldron through the King of Hybern/vice versa, and that is how the Elucien bond came to be, but this is not a shipping post, sorry!

As a quick aside, the above passage also makes me wonder if the Cauldron, or one of its hypothetical makers, wanted the Archeron sisters Made - it's something I've meant to post about, but I think Koschei has had a hand in things since Papa Archeron’s ship was lost at sea, at the very least. They are each a weapon in their own right, as Amren went on to state their powers match Rhys’ own. I know @nikethestatue has had similar thoughts. But I digress.

Look at the use of “bird in a cage” in the following passage, used to describe Nesta, which parallels nicely with Thesan’s use of decorative birds in cages as spies to listen in (thank you so much to @ladynightcourt3 for the first quote).

The amusement only grew, and Helion pushed a finger against his lips in mock warning. “Careful, High Lady. Even the birds report to Thesan here.” I frowned at the birds in cages throughout the room, still silent in Azriel’s shadowy presence. I threw shields around them, Rhys said down the bond. - ACOWAR, chapter 47

“Like calls to like,” Amren countered. “You were Made by the Cauldron. You may track other objects Made by it as well, as Briallyn can. And because you are Made by it, you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” A glance to Elain. “Either of you.” Nesta swallowed. “I can’t.” But to let Elain involve herself, jeopardize her safety— Amren said, “You tracked the Cauldron—” “It nearly killed me. It trapped me like a bird in a cage.” Elain said, “Then I will find it. I might require some time to … reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” “Absolutely not,” Nesta spat, fingers curling at her sides. “Absolutely not.” - ACOSF, chapter 21

I think Nesta briefly (I hope, though who knows) became a puppet/shell for the Cauldron's puppet master - perhaps a death god such as Koschei, if @fawnandshadows is correct that he bastardised the Cauldron in some way, millennia ago (I think she's onto something) - and that's who we were seeing when she locked herself into her mind while scrying in ACOSF.

“Get her out, Rhys,” Cassian demanded. “Get her out now.” “I can’t,” he said softly, his power a cloak of stars and night around him. “I— The doors to her mind were open the other night. They’re shut now.” “She doesn’t want it seeing her. Or us,” Feyre said, her face tight. “She’s locked it out, but also locked herself in.” Cassian’s stomach twisted. “Nesta,” he said into her ear. “Nesta, open your hand and come back.” Her breathing sharpened. The cold deepened. “Nesta,” he snarled— And the cold halted. It didn’t vanish, but rather … stopped. Nesta’s eyes flicked open. Silver fire burned within. Nothing Fae looked out through them. Rhys shoved Feyre behind him. She shoved her way back to his side. But Nesta’s hand continued to squeeze Cassian’s. He squeezed back, let his Siphons send a bite of power into her skin. She turned her head so slowly it was like watching a puppet move. Her eyes met his. Death watched him. - ACOSF, chapter 31

I think a similar situation - though more high stakes/urgent - could come to play in Elain's book.

Elain is a Seer with mystical powers that are potentially tied to the Void.

She may try to See through mist and shadow, and accidentally make herself known to Koschei or another death god/Daglan?

In ACOSF, Nesta warned her to “stay away from the Cauldron,” and even Azriel suggested there was a darkness to the Dread Trove that “Elain should not be exposed to.” This, of course, makes many of us think that Elain will go after the Cauldron in her own book.

Could Elain mistakenly Look too far and open herself up to the Cauldron's living bond? That being said, it could simultaneously be using at least Jurian and Amren as well, and we have no idea if Made Fae who haven't been inside the Cauldron, such as Feyre and Miryam, are equally susceptible.

Part 2 - Not Made, yet possibly susceptible

I have been wondering for a while if the Cauldron can somehow form bonds, or weave threads, between itself and anyone exposed to it - or a part of it, when it was separated and hidden in different locations - for extended periods of time, or perhaps crucial ages, like somebody's formative years?

His mouth tightened, and he swallowed once before he said, “Hybern was looking for the Cauldron back then—for the pieces of its feet. One was hidden at the temple in Sangravah, its power used to fuel its priestesses’ gifts for millennia. - ACOSF, chapter 14

What if Gwyn - or anyone else - who grew up in Sangravah, a temple that housed one leg of the Cauldron, internalised some of the magic (sort of along the lines of River Song having regenerative abilities because Amy Pond fell/was pregnant while travelling on the TARDIS, and everything that happened after she was born - being taken away)?

All the High Priestesses wore the billowing, artfully twisted and layered robes—though they certainly were far from matronly. Ianthe’s slim waist was on display with a fine belt of sky-blue, limpid stones, each perfectly oval and held in shining silver. And atop her hood sat a matching circlet—a delicate band of silver, with a large stone at its center. A panel of cloth had been folded up beneath the circlet, a built-in swath meant to be pulled over the brow and eyes when she needed to pray, beseech the Cauldron and Mother, or just think. Ianthe had shown me once what the panel looked like when down: only her nose and full, sensuous mouth visible. The Voice of the Cauldron. I’d found the image unsettling—that merely covering the upper part of her face had somehow turned the bright, cunning female into an effigy, into something Other. - ACOMAF, chapter 2

@wingedblooms has suggested that priestesses could be influenced in general because they worship the triple goddess/divine trio, which follows along with what Feyre hinted at when thinking about Ianthe, all the way back in ACOMAF; that they opened themselves up to the divine during their services (in a similar way to how I imagine Elain's Sight may function). That being said, it's hard to say whether the priestesses at Cesere, Sangravah and Itica are more susceptible than their colleagues from other temples due to their prolonged proximity to the Cauldron’s feet, but I suspect it might be the case.

Could they have a deeper connection, or a bond of sorts?

One that remains even when they aren't communing with the Mother or the Cauldron?

One that may be accessed by the Cauldron or its Maker, for such nefarious purposes as letting in enemies to a library sanctuary?

Gwyn is likely already a lightsinger - please see @silverlinedeyes and @merymoonbeam for some brilliant posts that cover the basics of the theory and then some here, here, here, here and here - but if not, or maybe in addition to that, what if she was "Made-adjacent," and so also able to be used as a "puppet" by the Cauldron/the being controlling it, and thus any threads it may share with others? If accurate, this would work for anyone who was born, grew up, and/or lived for a long time in Sangravah, Cesere or Itica. To clarify, I don't think that these priestesses could call to or search for the the Cauldron, as they are likely not true “kin” - as, say, the Archeron sisters are to other Made items - but I could always be wrong about that. Or is this what lightsingers truly are?

Alternatively, what if every Singer (shadowsinger*, lightsinger, or any other type) was capable of the silent song, or had Made/Starborn powers in a way, and/or could be used as a "puppet" by the Cauldron or its master/maker? It would explain how Azriel's shadows could be used by someone else, maybe Koschei, thanks to the hypothetical living bond between the Cauldron and Made beings? So Nesta, Azriel (whose shadows are potentially Made, if not himself), Elain, Feyre, Amren, Miryam, Jurian, Gwyn and a whole lot of priestesses besides...

Too crazy? Probably, but that's why theorising is fun!

TOG SPOILERS BELOW

* Another theory I know I share with others, but at least @ladynightcourt3 and @psychologynerd, is that Azriel's shadows could be Valg. What if Valg have a living bond back to their respectful Valg King? If @fawnandshadows is correct that Koschei/death gods twisted the Cauldron, could this be how? Valg magic?

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!