#maybe someone will agree maybe not who knows

[cosmonauter]

ahh, i hope you like it @liv-does-stuff !!

bestfriend james who has no boundaries with you!!

james potter thinks you are the best friend he's ever had. normally people tell him that he's too clingy, and they don't like him hanging around them all the time. and it's not a problem for him, but he just wants someone to let him hug and touch without being awkward about it.

so when you two met, he felt like the luckiest person on earth because you don't think it's weird when he hugs you from behind and kisses the top of your head.

you don't judge him for demanding cuddles and sleepovers at least two times a week. you even encourage him to be touchier!

his favourite thing to do with you is bathing together. since he's a headboy, he has unlimited access to the prefect's bathroom, which means that the two of you bathe together as often as possible.

he's especially excited to meet you today because he was informed about a new couple in school, and he really wants to gossip about it with you!

so while he is cleaning his bed of sirius' socks and peter's sweets, because you're sleeping over today, sirius decides to ask him a question, "are you meeting up with them again? don't you think it's a little weird that you guys bath at the same time in the same room, even though you're 'just friends'?"

"why would it be weird? they wash my back and i condition their hair for them. it's logical and they don't mind it aswell. it's actually really nice, and besides, don't act as if remus and you don't shower together!"

remus sighs, "james, sirius and i are in a relationship with eachother. aside from that, i totally agree with pads, it is weird that you take baths together. what's even weirder is you touching while being in said bath!"

"you guys just don't have the connection that my dove and i have. it's okay though, don't be sad about it! maybe one day you'll reach the same trust we have in each other.", james throws a towel over one shoulder and picks out a shirt for you to wear, and matching pants, so everyone you come across in the halls knows about your superior friendship (and that you're his, but he wouldn't admit that to anyone, not even under torture).

"i'm going to the bath, padfoot don't eat anything on my bed, my dove complained about the crumbs last time, and i promised them to change that! they're sleeping with me today. bye bye!"

he closes the door before any of them can say anything and runs to the bathroom as fast as he can.

-

as soon as he arrives in the prefect bathroom, he already sees you taking off your clothes.

while you are struggling with unzipping your pants, he comes up behind you and grabs your waist, pulling you into an embrace. your naked back against his broad chest sends electric shocks down his body and he shivers against you and presses your body closer to his.

"jamie, can you help me with my zipper? it isn't moving any further and i can't get out of my pants like that."

james would do anything for you, if you never stopped looking at him with those puppy-eyes, "of course, sweetheart. stay still."

he moves his hand away for a moment to turn your body facing his. while his one hand moves towards your zipper, the other one steadying your body by holding your hip, he grins at you and you smile back up at him.

he tugs a few times, but the pants don't budge. you notice his forehead getting sweatier, so you suggest to "take off your shirt jamie, it's to hot in here for you to be wearing it!" while tugging it up his back a little.

he pulls it off and throws it to the side, giving you a grin, "if you wanted me naked, darling, you just had to ask."

you scrunch your brows together, "if i wanted you naked, you would already be.". he snorts, and keeps tugging at your jeans.

suddenly an idea blossoms in his head. what if your zipper got stuck on something from the inside of your pants. so, of course, he sticks his hand down your pants to find a little string, connected to your underwear, being held hostage by said zipper.

"darling, you just have to pull your trousers down together with your panties. see, just like that..", he slowly eases your trousers over your butt, enjoying the feeling of your body under his hands.

you shiver against him and moan out," thank you, jamie. i should've thought about that." you blush and hide your head in his chest.

"don't worry about it, my love. i'm happy to help you as much as you need.", he smiles down at you, while you start tugging down his zipper to take of his trousers.

as soon as they fall to the floor, james picks you up by your waist and throws you into the water.

" james, you idiot!!", you scream at him while trying to splash him with the water. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry angel! i'll jump in okay? will that make you happy?"

-

"they are definitely fucking, i'm telling you!"

"sirius, calm down! what if they hear you, huh?"

"oh come on remus, they wear matching pajamas and use silencing charms every single time they have a 'sleepover', they won't hear a thing, trust me!"

"you're right, love, but still."

"wormy, what do you think?"

"i think they're both idiots, who really don't get why it's so weird."

please tell me if i need to change something, or if you have some tips on getting better. i hope you enjoyed it :))

[euthymiya]

i think kinich would be so into getting his head scratched like i swear he’d curl up like a little cat

[ POST-COMMISSION — FT. KINICH ]

synopsis: post commission kinich aka tired kinich aka clingy cat kinich happens to be your all time favorite version of kinich

before you read: gender neutral reader ; ajaw’s typical bickering (but he has a soft spot for reader) ; tired kinich ; kinich’s forehead makes a cameo (lolll) ; just a clingy sleepy saurian hunter getting his head scratchies :(

“You seem tired,” you hum, grinning down as his head falls onto your lap. Kinich is only half awake when he grumbles something incoherently under his breath, slumping his weight down as his face buries into your shirt and his arms wrap around your waist.

“Oh you should’ve seen him,” Ajaw snickers, popping up from behind your shoulder to look down at your lap, smugly adding, “that saurian almost took him right out! It’s too bad it didn’t. Then the Almighty Dragonlord Ku’hul Ajaw could’ve taken his body and—”

“You’ll get thrown off a cliff if you don’t shut up,” Kinich glowers.

You laugh, earning an unimpressed huff from him until your fingers tangle into his hair, leaving soothing scratches against the his scalp as his eyes flutter shut instantly. “Oh, c’mon. How do you both have the energy to bicker like this after such a tiring day?”

“He started it,” Kinich grumbles. His voice is almost slurred, like your touch has drained the last remaining bits of his consciousness.

You think maybe it has.

“You filthy maggot,” Ajaw screeches, “how dare you accuse me of—”

“Ajaw,” you protest. He silences petulantly, but not without a petty grunt before he floats off.

“Why does he listen to you?”

You look down at Kinich amused, pushing back the bandana on his forehead to expose the skin, brushing his bangs from his face as you lean down and press a soft peck. He hums, satisfied with the affection enough to curl his body into yours even closer.

“Maybe because I’m nice,” you grin. “And cute.”

“You are cute,” he agrees.

You watch him fondly, the way his eyes fight to stay open as he blinks up at you, trying to keep himself awake. Your grin widens as he yawns, earning him the reward of your soft giggle and your thumb tracing over his temple.

“You should sleep.”

“Not tired,” he grunts. “How was your day.”

“Great,” you say vaguely, looking at him with a knowing gaze. “Now sleep.”

“Said I’m not tired,” he insists stubbornly. You can see the crinkles in his forehead when his brows furrow without the bandana to cover them up. It pulls a smile across your lips, your thumb trailing down to trace the lines delicately.

It’s easier to read his emotions this way—not that you had trouble before, anyway. You can read the look in his eyes and catch the subtle flickers of emotions easily. But he looks more vulnerable this way, more bare and less hidden.

“You should wear this less,” you hold up his bandana to wave over his face, “you have a cute forehead.”

“Now I’m never going to take it off,” he grins sleepily, earning a half-hearted glare from you.

“Then less forehead kisses for you,” you counter.

He looks smug, even for someone who seems so close to falling asleep. A low rumble of his chuckle vibrates against your body before his low voice murmurs, “I doubt that. You’ll still do it anyway.”

His eyes close, breath evening out. You admire the sharp curves of his features, hand moving from his head to let your finger trace along the slopes of his face—except they don’t make it very far.

Not when his hand is too fast to catch your wrist, keeping you firmly in place with a low grunt of protest.

“What—”

“Keep doing that,” he demands quietly, eyes peering up at you tiredly before they flutter shut again. And almost like he’s waiting until he’s certain you’ll really continue, his breathing only evens out once more when your fingers tangle into the dark locks again.

“So demanding,” you chuckle. He drifts off, and you think love is the sound of soft snores and the feeling of soft hair between your fingertips.

Dear cat distribution system, please send my way one (1) tired and sleepy cat that also is named Kinich that also has a dendro vision and is a saurian hunter with a very loud and obnoxious saurian companion who wants him dead for his body and is contractually binded to him for the time being. Again, that’s one (1) tired and sleepy cat that also is named Kinich that also has a dendro vision and is a saurian hunter with a very loud and obnoxious saurian companion who wants him dead for his body and is contractually binded to him for the time being—thank you!

[jesuistrestriste]

girl you're literally the best writer here. Please please pleaaaaaaase can you do a part 2 of fwb Art who gets attached to you quickly 🛐 I'M BEGGING YOU

< pt 2 to this >

well.

you caved.

goddamnit, you caved quick too.

as soon as those tears spilled down his cheeks and into the crook of your neck, it was over. you wonder if maybe he weaponized his emotions a little to get you to stay, but it doesn’t really matter now, does it?

you did as he begged for you to do; you stayed the night with him. you expected that maybe he would try to have sex with you again, but it never happened.

as soon as you agreed to not go back to your own bed, he pressed kisses over your neck and held you tight. he gave you one of his loose stanford tennis tees and a pair of his boxers for you to sleep in, and then he coaxed you under the sheets. no grinding, no handsy touches, nothing.

he just laid there with you, breathing softly and comfortably as he rested his head on your chest, and fell asleep. you stared at the ceiling for most of the night just thinking ‘what the hell have i just gotten myself into’. if only you’d had the strength to refuse him before, because now you could tell he was in it.

bad.

you wake up in the morning after a night of inner turmoil and feel a comfortable weight behind you. a ghost of warmth pressed up against your back, and oh god, he’s spooning you. his arms are wrapped around your torso and his legs are tangled with yours.

you try to very quietly shift out of his hold, grabbing onto the side of his bed and pulling yourself towards it, but he just whines softly in his sleep and then tugs you right back flush to his chest. you sigh. you cave again, and let him keep you.

the both of you stay that way for another thirty minutes before art nuzzles into your shoulder and starts to stir. he presses three kisses to your neck as he sits up, and then gazes lazily down at you with lidded eyes as he takes in the sight of your features in the sunlight creeping through his blinds.

he’s only ever seen you in the dark; after parties and in response to your 1 AM bootycalls. how could he have ever gone this long without seeing you like this? the way your skin shines, the depth of the color in your irises, the little crevices and dips in your nose and cheeks and chin that make you look like you were lovingly sculpted by the hands of an artist. like you were someone’s muse.

you can see it in the way he looks down to you.

there’s going to be absolutely no (easy) way to get out of whatever you just started with him. one night changed everything. at least in his mind, you were sure of it.

he reaches a hand up and brushes his thumb over your lips, studying you before he knows you’ll turn away.

and then his lips are pressing down to yours. a soft, sweet, tender gesture that says so much more than you necessarily want from him. he only pulls back to whisper one thing, his eyes holding the same—almost nervous—vulnerability that they had the night before when he had weeped a plea into your frame.

“so..” he chews the inside of his cheek, “can i make you breakfast..?”

…

oh boy.

[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[babyfoxflower]

hi! making a request for alastor x f!reader! maybe where alastor has a nasty jealous side and takes it out on reader????? in a good way of course 👀 just a bit of an idea!

Ooooooo! I love this idea!

Jealousy

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Jealous & Possessive Alastor, Groping, Scratching, Biting, Blood Drinking, Oral (Fem! Receiving), P in V Sex, Cervix Fucking, Creampie, Also a little fluff at the end because I couldn’t help myself

“Well, well, well, looks like someone has a death wish, touching what’s mine,” Alastor’s tone was menacing as he narrowed his eyes at the man who had just briefly brushed against you.

His scleras were turning from red to black, and you knew what that meant. He was about to murder this man. He’s always like this but it gets worse when he drinks. When another man even just glances at you, he becomes a feral animal.

“Alastor, my love, it was just an accident,” you said trying to calm your overly jealous boyfriend.

“Haha, accident? I saw the way this wretch was looking at you from across the bar and now he has the gall to dare to come near you, the Radio Demon’s lady…” Alastor’s antlers were now growing, and you knew that you had to get him out of here before things escalated further.

The man was frozen where he stood.

You took Alastor by the face, “Come on, honey, let’s go home,” you gently whispered into his big fluffy ears, “let’s go home and you can do whatever you want to me, claim me as your own.”

Alastor looked at you and grinned largely and then he turned back to the man who was shaking in his boots, “You get to live this time. But if I ever see again, I’ll fucking tear your soul apart and broadcast your misery for all of Hell to hear. Hahahaha.”

You took Alastor by the hand and led him out of the bar.

All the way back to the hotel, Alastor wouldn’t stop groping you. He squeezed your ass and your tits, and kept kissing up and down your neck. You just let him though because you preferred him like this to when he was slaughtering someone. Plus if you were being honest, it was turning you on and you could feel your panties getting soaked by the minute.

Once you got back to your room, Alastor ripped your dress off of you and pushed you onto the bed. “Tell me, my dear, who do you belong to?”

“You, Alastor. I’m all yours.”

“That’s right, very good,” he said as he cut off your bra with his claws.

He removed his gloves to get a better feel of your mounds, he massaged them with his palms. You let out a little mew.

“Heh, I guess it feels good then?”

You nodded.

“But, I know my darling. I know you prefer pain with your pleasure,” he said before lightly digging his sharp claws into the tops of your breasts over the scars from the previous times.

“Fuck! It stings so good,” you cried out.

He chuckled darkly, before dragging them down to just before your nipples as he knew you had places that you didn’t like to scratched. He pulled his claws out of your tits and watched the beautiful blood start rolling down.

“Looks delicious,” Alastor licked his lips.

He ran his tongue across your chest, lapping up your oh so yummy blood. The sweet taste of iron filled his mouth and he moan profusely. You, yourself couldn’t help but moan and groan. You bucked your hips and rubbed your clothed cunt against his pants tent.

“Could that other man make you feel this good?” He asked.

You shook your head, “No, no only you can make me feel like this, baby!”

“You’re being so good tonight, my pretty pet. Saying all the right things. Letting me have my way with you. That deserves a reward, wouldn’t you agree?”

Before you could answer him, he was already kissing his way down to your belly and from there that special place between your legs. He tore off your panties with his mouth, “Look at that, so wet already, are we?”

You felt that familiar sting as he dragged his claws up your inner thighs. You threw your head back as you enjoyed every last bit of the pleasurable pain that raising through you, sending tingles up your spine. He planted a gentle kiss on your clit, knowing that it would drive you mad.

“Please, Alastor!” You begged.

“Please, what, my dear?”

“Give me oral pleasure, please!”

“Well, you did say the magic word.”

He started off with little kitten licks but that soon turned to long strokes up and down your labia. The lewd wet sounds mixed with your lovely moans filled the room.

Alastor began rubbing circles into your bud of nerves while still keeping his other hand gripped tightly on your thigh. He teased your entrance for what seemed like ages before finally shoving his long inhuman tongue into your weeping puss.

He reached it deep inside of you until he reached that spot. He started spelling the alphabet over it again and again with his tongue until you saw stars. You screamed out as toes curled and you came undone all over his face. He drank up all the juices that poured out of you.

“Tastier than venison and jambalaya combined,” he hissed.

Quickly, he removed his clothing and made you touch your knees to your chest as his forehead touched yours. He eased his thick member that was already dripping precum inside of you. Once your walls adjusted, he started pounding in and out of your cunt. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each hard thrust.

He moaned your name before kissing you passionately. Your lips moved in sync with each others, he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You could still taste yourself. You could feel yourself coming undone again.

“Bite down on me, darling,” he said exposing the crook of his neck to you.

You obeyed and bit down as hard as could, the sweet taste of iron now filled your mouth.

“Ah! Fuck! It feels so good!” He huffed into your ear.

Your walls clenched down on him as you had your second orgasm. Your eyes rolled back this time and you went momentarily deaf.

His thrusts got faster as he was reaching his climax as well. Soon he went cross eyed and cried out your name as his thick seed filled you up.

Alastor collapsed on top of you. Both of you were panting and drenched in sweat. Once both you came down from your collective highs, you held him as he laid his head on your chest. You stroked his hair and his ears, he looked up at you and smiled softly. His genuine smile.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Alastor.”

You two eventually fell asleep and next morning, he already had your favorite breakfast ready for you.

[warlocksoup]

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ AKAASHI KEIJI undone ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ CHAPTER ONE: evidence

HOW TO TRICK THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE INTO DATING YOU BY DATING SOMEONE ELSE (YOUR BEST FRIEND)(JUST PRETEND THOUGH)

STEP ONE: GET YOUR MOST PUSHOVER, IN LOVE WITH YOU FRIEND TO AGREE

She tries to say no, at first, for the sake of preserving at least some of her dignity. But it’s Akaashi. She was always going to say yes, eventually.

“I dunno,” she pretends to muse, slumped out on the couch with her fingers deftly moving from button to button on the controller in her hands, eyes narrowed at the television screen in front of her. “Do you really want to start out being like, deceptive? Doesn’t seem like the best way to get a girl’s attention.”

Akaashi groans, head dropping back and his arms thrown up, exasperated and defeated. “Yeah, I know, but I’ve tried everything else, and nothing gets her attention. But if she sees you, a pretty, cool girl, going out with me, then maybe she, another, pretty, cool girl, will start to see me as someone dateable.”

She snorts. “Are we in junior high? What the fuck kind of logic is that?”

He drops on the couch opposite her. “I know, it’s just,” he pauses, and sighs, “I’m desperate.”

She allows herself a string of self-lambasting thoughts, centered mainly around how pathetic she is for that selfish lurch in her chest. To say yes would be to take advantage of her best friend’s desperation, allowing him to play pretend and act out some of her most suppressed fantasies, for some plot to get the girl that, in the end, probably won’t work. She swallows and tries to make him change his mind once again. “I really don’t think this would even work, Kaashi.”

“Yeah, but I’m driving myself crazy,” he insists as her thumbs start to button-smash frantically, “and you’re the only person I trust enough to do this with. I know it’s stupid I just have to try something.”

She’s reached the end of her protests. The screen in front of her flashes red, and the word DEATH splays across her vision; she sighs. Her head lops to the side, and she blinks at a wide-eyed, completely desperate Akaashi. “Fine.”

STEP TWO: START PLANTING FALSIFIED EVIDENCE

Akaashi’s hand is intertwined with her. She stares down at it and tries to memorize it. The way his fingers look pressed into her skin, how it feels. The warmth. The callouses. The way their forearms press together and settle in the space between their thighs. Her nail polish is chipped. His thumbs are wide. The slight rocking of the train slightly rocks them, and their bodies move in tandem without trying.

Akaashi leans back slightly and uses his free hand to take a photo.

“Here,” he says after a moment of contemplation, shoving his phone in her face. “How does that look?”

Maybe she looks for too long, but there’s something off about it. It looks so much more contrived, converted to pixels on the screen of his phone. Or maybe it’s just that it’s harder to pretend this isn’t a ploy for someone else’s attention when his affection is documented like that. When she looks at her hand in his in a photo it’s a reminder that this is simply evidence captured just to inspire jealously.

Her eyes drift between the screen and the hands between her. He hasn’t let go yet, which she’s trying not to read into. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“Good,” he says, his thumb tapping against her knuckle. She watches as he opens Instagram. “Should I tag you?”

She shakes her head. “No, let people wonder who it is, at first. Maybe she’ll ask.”

This brings a slight smile to Akaashi’s face, and it makes her feel oddly sick.

Ever since he asked her, she’s given into a few delusions, considering it a serious possibility that this could just be Akaashi’s convoluted, roundabout way of getting closer to her. An excuse to hold her and post pictures of her and maybe even kiss her, eventually. That maybe he wants her just as badly as she wants him.

But no amount of mental gymnastics or bending of logic can deny that unabashed giddiness at the mere suggestion that she might speak to him. It’s hard for her to deny, when he talks to her like it’s nothing, when he holds her hand like it’s nothing.

She swallows and bounces her knee. “What are you going to tell people? I mean, like, when they ask about how we got together.”

Akaashi shrugs. There’s something loading on his phone screen as he lowers it to look at her. “I dunno. Maybe that one night we just like, hooked up and then decided to date.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, is that bad?”

“No,” she offers with a slight shake of her head. It feels bad. It feels the same way food poisoning or maybe the plague would. But she can’t logically explain that one, so she just says, “That should work, I guess.”

STEP THREE: LEAN INTO THE RUMORS GOING AROUND (THAT YOU STARTED)(ON PURPOSE)

INSTAGRAM akaashikeiji has tagged you in a post!

INSTAGRAM kuroo_tetsuro: bro that’s for sure you in akaashi’s post kuroo_tetsuro: since when are you guys going out???

IMESSAGE yukie: you and akaashi are dating?? since when??

IMESSAGE iwa: so were you planning on tell me that you started going out with someone?

INSTAGRAM heyheyheybokuto commented on akaashikeiji’s post: HOLY SHIT IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS? alisahaibi commented on akaashikeiji’s post: aww so cute! love you two

IMESSAGE kaashi: holy shit did that just work

The constant buzzing of her phone provides a pretty consistent distraction from her essay on the socioeconomic conditions of the working class that led to the Bolshevik revolution. Her head is swirling with thoughts of Akaashi’s post and the failed provisional government.

Her face drops to her hands, and her phone continues to buzz on the desk beside her, just as her laptop screen goes dark, nudging her unfinished essay out of her thoughts.

She takes a moment to press the palms of her hands into her eye sockets, enjoying the pressure and the way shapes sprout up behind her closed eyelids. Akaashi’s sitting out in their living room, probably, phone in his hands staring at notification from Alisa.

He’s probably going through her account, looking through her posts, careful not to let his thumb slip and like something on accident. He’s probably smiling down at her smile, heart pounding in his chest as he thinks about her and whatever comment she left on his post.

Akaashi’s been in love with her this whole time. For as long as they’ve been friends, for as long as she’s known him; his love for her completely integrated into his personality. When prompted to list what he likes about her, he will ramble about her sweetness and beauty and her intelligence. He will list off things that Alisa has and she lacks: grace in social situations, a distinct and unique sense of style, her ability to read and understand the people around her so easily.

It seems like, everything there is to Alisa, Akaashi loves it. Whatever it is.

Her phone buzzes again. She reaches for it.

IMESSAGE iwa: you can tell me about things, yknow

Her tongue twists in her mouth, and her head bangs. It crosses her mind, briefly, that this is a bad idea, and the fallout is not worth the maybe few weeks where she can hold Akaashi’s hand and pretend that he feels an ounce of what she feels for him.

She clicks on the notification from him, the post he tagged her in, and is surprised to see her own face, grinning back at her, bare-faced and nose scrunched. There are freckles on her face she didn’t hadn’t ever noticed before. She didn’t know he had this photo. He captioned it: My pretty girl.

It’s worth, she decides instantly. It’s so immediately worth it.

She opens up her photos, and scrolls passed blurry photos of crowded whiteboards and half-eaten vegetarian lunches to find a photo of Akaashi. One of him just outside their apartment in the middle of last winter taken when he wasn’t paying attention. He’s smiling, eyes crinkled and glasses falling down his nose as he buttons up his jacket. It’s a favorite of hers, as indicated by the small white heart in the corner. Every time she sees it, she smiles.

Without stopping to think of how both wrong and vulnerable it feels, she posts it, matching it to his. My pretty boy. Undeniable evidence planted.

taglist: @charlotterosea13 @quikhs @mdmraz @mollyrolls @nazwrites-2002 @hanadulsetaad @nokjhg @alexithemiyatic @kvrokasaa @wyrcan @baylz @soobin1437

[lowkeyerror]

Try It On, Take It Off

Maddy Perez x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Notes: Smut, cunnulingus, fingering, thigh riding, dom!reader, sub!Maddy, slight degregation, slight praise, plot if you squint

Summary: You're a fashion major who is inspired by her roommate Maddy, to make a beautiful dress. Though it wasn't your intention Maddy ends up trying the dress on, and subsequently taking it off

Masterlist

Your dorm room was quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the low hum of your sewing machine. Glasses were perched at the edge of your nose and a pin was held in your mouth. Your eyes consistently glancing over at your design plan, not wanting to make a mistake.

When you were younger you had an aversion to clothing. You couldn’t have cared any less about what you wore. There was plenty of times that you came home with grass stains on your pants or with mysterious holes in you shirts. Your parents were always scolding you for your appearance.

When you got older it turned out that, you just weren’t a fan of the clothes they bought you. Once you got to pick the items in your wardrobe you began to cultivate your own style. Eventually you became bored with what the stores had to offer. So, you learned how to make pieces that you wanted to wear.

That eventually led to you finding out that designing clothes was your passion. You applied to a few fashion schools in your local area and got accepted to all of them. However when your dream school in California offered you a full ride you couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

It had only been a couple of months since your move. You were a bit of a recluse even with such an outgoing major. The outgoing party aspects of college were lost on you. The same couldn't be said for your roommate, Maddy.

While you were always in your dorm working, she was the exact opposite. If you hadn’t seen her in the bed sleeping on the way to your morning classes, you would doubt that she even stayed in the dorm at all.

You weren’t surprised that the girl always had plans. She looked important. It was one the first things you noticed about her. Her style almost screamed that she was better than you. Whether she was wearing street clothes, party attire or formal wear, she always looked good. It helped that the woman herself was drop dead gorgeous.

Sometimes you’d look at the girl and get inspired to make something. You typically refrained from creating those pieces, but this one was different. It was an elegant blue gown. It was something like an upscale prom dress. Something that one would wear to a gala maybe, but not a wedding.

As soon as the idea popped in your head, you knew that you had to make it. It had taken you a few weeks to get it together. All of the work was paying off beautifully. You were nearly done with it, the last thing being sewing the piece together.

The quiet left the room as Maddy and her friend entered. They were giggling the moment they came through the door.

“Y/n, this is my friend Cassie. Cassie this is my roommate Y/n,” she introduced as the pair plopped down on her bed.

“Hi,” you said keeping your focus on the dress.

“Wow, it’s beautiful,” the blonde spoke.

That piqued your interest. You lift your head up to meet her, gaze a smile stretching across your face, “Thanks. I’ve been working on it for a few weeks.”

“Are you going to model it?”

You shake your head quickly, “It’s not my proportions.”

“Are you making it for a friend?” Maddy questions.

You feel the tip of your ears heat, “Um, well n-not really. I don’t think. I just got inspired to make it, so it’s not for anything particular.”

“What inspires something as elegant as this?”

You scratch the back of your neck, “ Someone.”

Maddy interjects again, “So you did make it for someone.”

You sigh, “Look, it’s inspired by this girl I know, but I don’t know if she’d even want this.”

“Anyone who would turn something like this down has to be a fucking idiot,” Cassie says.

Maddy agrees with the blonde, “Truly a dumbass.”

You chuckle at their comments. They turn their attention back to each other and you go back to working on the dress.

Eventually the two girls go back out. A few hours pass and you finally finish the dress. You hang it up on the wood connected to your bed. The full view of it sends pride through your chest.

“It’s beautiful.”

You’re slightly startled by the Latina’s presence. You didn’t hear her come back in. She laughs at your fright, but continues getting closer to the dress. Seeing her next to it only made you want to see her in it more.

“Is it okay if I touch it?”

You don’t answer her immediately. She takes her eyes off the dress to look at you. This takes you out of your trance.

“D-do you want to try it on?”

Maddy arches an eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

You nod , “Positive.”

“What if I don’t fit?”

You shake your head, “It’ll fit trust me.”

Carefully she takes the dress and heads towards the bathroom.

“Wait,” you call to her and she stops.

You quickly go to the closet and search through your roommate’s things. You pull out some sparkly blue heels that work with the dress.

“With these,” you hand them to her.

She gives you a look you can’t decipher, but wordlessly goes into the restroom.

You wait on the edge of your bed with baited breath. Having the woman that inspired the piece actually wear it. You were doubtful that it would happen, but now it was a reality.

When the bathroom door opened, Maddy slowly made her exit. It was almost like a bunch of still images as she came into the room frame by frame.

She was stunning. You couldn’t find the words as much as you searched for them. The heels went perfect with the dress. Everything about it was perfect. It fit her like a glove.

“Speechless?”

You nod before standing up. Your eyes rake over her one more time, trying to come up with anything, “This is… it’s better than I imagined.”

“Better than you imagined,” Maddy repeats smugly.

You feel the embarrassment start to rise, “I mean- I…”

“I think, you made it for me. It feels like it’s tailored specifically for me,” she says, getting closer to you.

“I- you inspired me to make it, yes,” you look down avoiding her gaze.

“So you see me in the same way you see this dress?”

You shake your head, “The dress goes with you. It compliments and accentuates what you already bring to the table.”

“And what do I bring to the table, Y/n?”

You gulp, “Your confidence, the way you carry yourself, it just gives off importance. Your style is perfect and you’re very… pretty."

“Sounds like you pay a lot of attention to me,” Maddy now stands face to face with you.

“We’re roommates,” you try to defend.

“I pay a lot of attention to you, Y/n,” she admits.

You feel your mouth go dry, “What?”

Maddy’s eyes stay on yours, “I can't help it, you’re just so cute. You look so tense when you’re curled up on your bed working on something. Those glasses are always one wrong move away from falling off. I especially like the way you look at me, it’s like you’re taking every detail of me in every single time.”

“You think I’m cute,” you repeat, blushing madly.

“I think you’re adorable, innocent even.”

The way her eyes examine you, makes you squirm. There’s a tension in the air, something that is unfamiliar to you.

“I’m not innocent,” your tongue swipes over your bottom lip.

“Prove it,” the Latina challenges you.

You stand a little taller. The height difference between the two of you a little more evident. You carefully remove your glasses, tossing them on a nearby desk. Then you close the gap between Maddy and yourself.

“I’m not some shy virgin loser, if that’s what you were thinking.”

Maddy leans further into you, “All that stuttering is for show then?”

“The thing about my nerves is that I always overcome them.”

Your hand moves to rest on her waist, but she playfully smacks your hand away.

“No touching, this dress is priceless.”

A deep laugh escapes you, “Then I think you might have to take it off.”

Maddy reaches for the back of the dress. Her finger ghosts the zipper, “You sure you can handle it?”

Instead of reaching for her waist your hand travels to the zipper on the back of the dress. You keep eye contact with her as you pull it down. When it gets to the end your fingers graze the soft skin of her back. Your focus is only enhanced by the goosebumps you can feel forming under your touch.

“I know that I can,” your lips are gentle against her earlobe.

The dress begins to pool at the bottom as it slips off of her. Maddy finds herself stepping out of the dress giving you the perfect view of her body. She turns around to bend down and pick it up. Her ass pressing against your front as she does so.

You can’t help yourself as your hand places itself on her neck. There’s no pressure applied, but that doesn’t stop her head from tilting back.

“Kiss me already,” she breathes out.

You smirk, “I don’t think you’re in any place to be making demands.”

She opens her mouth to reply, but your hand lightly squeezes her throat. She whimpers softly only widening the grin on your face.

“Put the dress down first,” you tease her in the same way as she did with you.

Quickly she slips from your hold and sits the dress down and out of the way. When she faces you again, there are no smart remarks. Her matching black lace set left little for your mind to imagine. It wouldn’t be on long.

It was hot when you finally kissed. It wasn’t slow or tentative like most first kisses were. It was hungry, messy even. Each of you wanted to dominate the other. Neither was quite willing to relent.

Her arms were tightly secured around your neck, pulling you down closer to her. You finally had her waist firmly in your hands.

She slips her tongue into your mouth causing you to moan. You playfully suck on it, which elicits a pretty cry from Maddy. You take the opportunity to briefly separate; only enough to remove your shirt.

Her palms resettle on your body, feeling you up. A fistful of her ass fits nicely in your hand.

“Fuck,” Maddy sighs against your lips.

You can’t help smacking the flesh leaving a stinging sensation with the woman.

“Always going out in those slutty outfits. Probably hoping some stupid guy thinks he’s got a shot, just so you can get off on turning him down. Coming back here all late, but unsatisfied. Playing with yourself as soon as you get in bed. Pathetic.”

You show your strength by ripping her bra with your bare hands. She arches into you as your mouth attacks her breasts. You harshly suck at the swells of breasts hoping to leave a trail of marks in your path.

When you suck on her tits she begins to whine, “I need more.”

You look up at her, “Beg."

You expected more push back from her, but she was quick to comply, “Please Y/n, I need more. Touch me, taste me, I need you, please.”

“Good girl,” you move the girl to lay on the bed.

You hover over her and her hand goes for the waistband of your pants. You take them off quickly before kissing her again.

You create your own path, kissing and suckling down her body before getting to her pussy. The scent alone is driving you insane. You’ve teased her enough.

Delicately you pull her panties to the side and begin to devour her. Your hands find purchase on her thighs keeping them a part. You feel your own arousal intensify as the woman begins to move desperately against your tongue.

Your hot breath against her cunt was turning her into a puddle. Two of your fingers bury themselves inside of her.

“You’re such a hungry slut, say it,” you feel her sucking your fingers deeper into her hole.

“I’m a hungry slut,” she’s nearly breathless from your intense pace.

“Cum on my fingers.”

You begin fucking her faster, causing her to rise up in the bed. The image of sweat dripping down her body, as her eyes were close, looks like a Picasso painting.

With your free hand your fingers begin circling her clit. Her body shakes violently as that final action sent her over the edge. You fuck her through the orgasm your pace finally slowing before you pull your fingers out of her.

You don’t waste anytime shoving those same fingers into her mouth. She sucks them lazily, her tongue swirling around your digits.

“There you go, you like tasting yourself don’t you?”

Your voice is condescending, but she nods nonetheless, with your fingers still in her mouth. Once her mouth is off of your fingers she pulls you into a kiss. You’re obsessed with the taste of her.

Her fingers toy with the top of your pants. She looks up at you innocently, “I want to make you come.”

The confidence she usually carries is gone. Part of you thinks that she's afraid you'll turn her away.

You soften for a second, “I’m not going to deny you, baby.”

You let her pull your pants and underwear down. You’re just as wet as she was. She drags a finger through your folds gathering your juices before putting the finger in her mouth.

Her eyes close at the taste, “Fuck Y/n.”

Your hand rests on her chin, gently tilting her head up, “Can I use you, Maddy?”

She nods dumbly which makes you smile.

“Good girl. Get up and sit on that chair.”

She quickly follows your command. Once she's in the chair you sit on her lap. Your bare pussy in contact with her smooth thigh.

“Flex your thigh,” you instruct.

She listens and the change makes you gasp lightly. Your rest your head in the crook of her neck then slowly begin to grind on her thigh. Small whimpers and cries escape your lips as you use her thigh to get off.

Maddy’s hands rest on your hips helping guide your movements.

“That’s it baby, help me,” you whisper against her skin.

Her grip on you becomes more firm as she speeds up your movements. Her hands now in full control of your pace.

You lift your head up to kiss her sensually. Your hands tangle in the back of her hair, keeping her in place.

She begins to push your hips down rougher.

You whine at the change, “I’m going to cum."

When you do, Maddy is quick to switch your position. She sits you on the chair before getting on her knees. She keeps one hand on your chest as her mouth begins to latch on to your pussy.

She tentatively licks through your folds and her tongue prods at your soddened entrance. You’re trying to catch your breath. Maddy is holding back only trying to clean you, but you can tell she wants to keep tasting you.

When you decide that she’s had enough you yank her hair, just enough to get her attention. She looks up at you with swollen lips.

“I had to taste you,” she apologizes.

“Come here.”

She rises slowly and now it’s who pulls her into your lap. Your lips meet again this time matching together perfectly. The tiredness present, but neither of you want to stop.

“So good for letting me use you,” you mumble against her lips.

“Y/nn,” she mewls against you.

You chuckle, “I’m just teasing.”

She jokingly pushes your shoulder, “So, can I have that dress?”

You pretend to think about it, “As long as we keep doing that, you can have whatever you want.”

“And if I wanted a date?”

You stutter, “I- we could do that then.”

She laughs, “You’re cute.”

“Don’t forget how good I just fucked you.”

She shook her head and kissed your forehead, “I won’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t call you cute.”

You grumble, but nonetheless wrap your arms around the girl. Your head falls onto her shoulder.

“We have to clean up before bed baby,” her hand massages your scalp.”

“Can we just sit for a minute?”

So you sit there, holding her in your arms. Her naked body against yours. The only thought on your mind is her and what you'll make her next time.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

"The Last Temptation": One Megathread to Rule Them All - Clues and Speculation, PART 3

9) How will Sauron prove his love for Galadriel?

We are back, and we are cracking the code here, we are cooking, and I want to thank @justacynicalromantic; @pearlstomyeyes and @historical-romances9, for their ideas, and with whom I wholesome agree. And there's foreshadowing to back it up.

In both Part 1 and Part 2, we already discussed some crucial points leading to “The Last Temptation” scene: (1) Sauron in love with Galadriel, (2) Galadriel having conflicted feelings for him in return and (3) her seek him out alone at the finale, and how the director of the finale, Charlotte Brändström teased on “X-Ray Vision” podcast:

I think Sauron even really loves Galadriel and you see that at the very end. 

The season seems to be building towards: 

Against all warnings, Galadriel will seek out Sauron alone at the finale; 

She’s ready to sacrifice herself (based on the visions of Nenya in 2x04, my bet is that Galadriel knows she’ll die in her duel with Sauron, but will go to fight him anyway);

She’ll 100% want to destroy Sauron, and there is no doubt in her mind (especially after seeing first-hand what he did to Celebrimbor, in 2x07).

Sauron will somehow prove he really loves Galadriel (to both her, and the audience).

The question is: how?

As I’ve mentioned on Part 2 of this megathread, I don’t think visions alone are enough to put this point across, because Sauron will always look/sound manipulative by showing Galadriel visions of Halbrand/“what could have been”/or whatever.

He can show her all the same, but I don’t think that will be *the* proof that he truly loves her, and that everything they shared before (when she believed him to be “just Halbrand”) wasn’t a deception on his part. 

Morgoth’s iron crown isn’t only a means to lure Sauron out or to used as a mere "sword", as we’ve seen on the trailers. And, as I’ve discussed in Part 2, my bet is Galadriel will try to test Adar’s theory that Morgoth’s iron crown + Nenya can destroy Sauron for good.

From this “Behind the Scenes” teaser, we know that Galadriel will get Nenya back, and has it during her fight with Sauron in 2x08. 

I already talked about this being Galadriel’s plan in Part 2, but I will develop it here. With that being said, and as @justacynicalromantic so brilliantly observed, Morgoth’s iron crown is not a MacGuffin, but the Chekhov’s gun of the plot. The iron crown is a very powerful object, infused with Dark magic (maybe Blood Magic even) who has the power to destroy Sauron’s physical form, as we’ve seen in 2x01.  

Now, prepare for strangeness and to be mind-blown because Morgoth's Iron crown is fatally wounding someone at the finale (coming full circle). And there will be some healing involved, to save this character’s life. Now, this sounds out of “Star Wars” (and I'm not sure if I’m a huge fan of this myself), but stay with me.  

In 2x04, we already saw that Nenya has powerful healing properties, when Galadriel saves Camnir from a fatal Orc arrow wound, before heading to fight the Orcs alone, and allowing Elrond & co. to escape back to Lindon and warn Gil-galad the Orc legions are marching towards Eregion.  

(This screenshot looks terrible because I had to up the brightness otherwise, we wouldn’t see anything).

We have two possible scenarios here: 

Either Galadriel stabs Sauron with the iron crown, regrets it, and heals Sauron; 

Or Galadriel accidentally scratches/stabs herself or Sauron does, with Morgoth’s iron crown during the fight, and is dying, but she’s healed by Sauron (hence proving his love for her). 

My main problem with being Sauron getting stabbed in this scenario: (1) we already saw that happening; and (2) it wouldn’t prove to the audience and to Galadriel that he’s actually in love with her. And I do believe Galadriel’s mindset going into this fight will be to destroy Sauron, and so I don’t see her regretting stabbing him, nor leaving him for dead.

My bet: Galadriel is the one who gets fatally wounded by Morgoth's Iron Crown.

This season, there’s already been a female character dying of poisoning by an Orc arrow (R.I.P. Bronwyn). And as Arondir explains to the audience, in 2x03, Orc arrows have a foul substance the flesh doesn’t forget (couldn’t find the actual quote). So: can this be foreshadowing?  

With Orc arrows the poison is slower (Bronwyn didn’t die right away), but what of Morgoth’s very crown? The Dark magic on it it’s 10000 times stronger. Meaning, a mere scratch can be enough to be fatal, even to an Elf. So, I can definitely see this mirroring Frodo’s Morgul wound from the “Fellowship of the Ring”, leaving Galadriel at the brink of death. 

Now, will Nenya come into play in this scenario?

I think it can go both ways, really. Because Sauron is a powerful Dark sorcerer on his own and he’s a servant of Morgoth, so he doesn’t exactly need Nenya to save Galadriel’s life. But maybe he’ll have to use it? The magic on the crown can be so strong, that Nenya’s power might have to come to the rescue (meaning Nenya's healing powers in 2x04 are also foreshadowing to this scene).

This would make Galadriel “touch the darkness” for real, because with Frodo the wound from the Morgul-blade never fully healed throughout the years. So what will happen to Galadriel if she does get stabbed by Morgoth’s iron crown, and is healed by Sauron himself? Unless the power of Nenya acts as counterbalance to this.

Can Elrond’s choice come into play in this scenario, as well? 

If Elrond isn't forced to make this choice in 2x07, I think this scene will be it (especially since fans have already noticed "Elrond’s theme" on the "Last Temptation theme").

Elrond can witness Galadriel get wounded by Morgoth’s Iron Crown and falling down, and have to face the choice between saving her life or stopping Sauron (in the future), just like he promised her in 2x04. And, in this scenario, he would eventually choose to save the Elves, and leave Galadriel for dead.

Where do we go from here? 

As I’ve already speculated in Part 2, I think Galadriel’s true feelings for Sauron will either be: (1) explicit portraited or (2) highly implied in this scene, and that’s why Magda Walma aka “the Polish reviewer” believes that Celeborn won’t ever in “Rings of Power” (he will, but I’m betting no earlier than Season 4 or even Season 5, to help Galadriel heal from all of this).

In this scenario, I can only see two possible outcomes, really: 

Either Galadriel willingly goes with Sauron at the end; 

Sauron goes away by himself, and leaves Galadriel behind, unarmed and saved (further proving his love for her). 

Either way, and even if these theories aren’t true, I think it’s safe to say we can expect an insane and highly emotional scene between Sauron and Galadriel at the finale. I don’t believe for a second, she’ll outright resist him again. It’s not what the season has been building up towards.

[masterqwertster]

I so agree, with your thoughts about Ashton!

It's odd, to me, that Ashton in particular has garnered so much hatred. If you look back on all of Taliesin's characters across every campaign, he's ultimately not that different in personality from the others, save maybe Caduceus. Percy, Molly, and Ashton are all people who have been deeply beaten down by the circumstances they were forced into, and they gained a rough exterior to protect themselves because of it.

They're snarky, and try to act aloof to keep people at an arm's length, but at their core, they still have bleeding hearts that love much more deeply than they probably wish they did. In other words, they are interesting, multilayered characters, that don't just have one note. It's strange then, that these same characteristics are so widely celebrated with Percy and Molly, but are treated as reasons to hate Ashton in the same breath.

Taliesin is a master at making characters that make you think, and I think Ashton deserves to be celebrated as such, just as much as the others!

To be honest, I can't speak much of previous PCs' reception since I only got into CR Tumblr around Bells Hells arriving in Yios, but I think the difference is framing.

Taliesin has stated that his through-line on his PCs is the characteristic Confidently Wrong.

I would guess that the reason Ashton is catching flak is because:

a) they've got shit Charisma and Taliesin plays that as Doesn't Know What to Say and/or Doesn't Know When to Shut Up. Which on a disillusioned/cynical punk is... abrasive to say the least. They tell their truths with little to no filter, or much thought at times about how true those things are for others. Meanwhile, Molly and Percy are charming in carny and nobility ways respectively, while Caduceus has a calm, homey charm. Ashton is semi-intentionally off-putting, and pretty constantly cranky to some degree from chronic pain.

and b) Recently, Ashton is Confidently Wrong about a subject any attentive watcher can tag as being wrong and has major consequences on the world if acted on. Like, yes, you don't want a heartless, powerful murderer to push the Doomsday Button. But your group of caring, weak(? not really anymore) chucklefuck friends pushing the button doesn't change its doomsday nature or really make it any better. Also, all your information on what the Doomsday Button does exactly is suspect. I don't think any of the other's Confidently Wrong subjects were so potentially devastating for more than themselves or their parties rather than the globe. It's easier to grant grace when you're fucking over less people.

Now do I wish Ashton would get a clue that releasing Predathos is bad, period? Absolutely. But I also have been watching him and when they get an idea in their head, he tends to stick to it until proven wrong (think the Spark mess. Fearne hesitated last second, Ashton didn't). And the idea in their head right now is: The gods need to leave, their thrones need to be destroyed.

I think part of Ashton's rage at the gods that fuels this idea is wanting someone to blame that isn't himself for his shit life, and finding the gods a good target for blame, as Taliesin has mentioned on 4-Sided Dive before. And I think part of it is that FCG did a lot of proclaiming to be on the anti-Ludinus/Predathos stuff to save his goddess, and then he died as part of their missions, and then Ashton was shown a video about how the gods absolutely will sacrifice their followers to save their own asses. Which is kind of the situation FCG died in, if you slant it a bit and act like FCG wasn't mainly choosing to save their friends in the moment rather than the gods long-term. So it probably feels better to Ashton to throw some of that anger about FCG making the sacrificial play that he's been trying so hard to prevent at the gods who FCG was trying to serve.

And I get that not everyone wants to do the analysis on why Ashton is picking the path he is. That they don't want to take time to acknowledge his lack of social graces and the bias of his views, and would rather just get to attacking the faulty, insensitive rhetoric Ashton's spouting at the moment. But like, there's reasons Ashton is the way they are, and it doesn't hurt to acknowledge them even as you hard disagree with what's being said or strived for.

[vidavalor]

Hello lovely! I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about Maggie in Final1 5? Isn't it weird that she wants to go back to talk to Az and Crowley while Nina's working? Something about it feels off to me.

Hello right back. 💕 There's chamomile mint tea and shortbread since we're on a Maggie theme, if you'd like some. Maggie's behavior from that scene on is super fucking weird, I agree.

Before the milk run-- when Maggie becomes the only involved character whom we lose track of a bit during The Final 15-- versus how she behaves when she returns is so strange as to be something that I consider maybe additional proof that things are not at all what they seem to be in The Final 15.

On Maggie and Crowley's weird Final 15 behavior, a possible meaning to all the allusions to robbery in S2, and what Maggie and Nina might be able to tell us about what happened at the end of S2.

TW: brief mentions of show's non-consensual possession/rape analogy.

Think for a moment about how truly weird Maggie's request for her and Nina to go back to the bookshop in that moment actually is...

It's only been a matter of minutes since Maggie and Nina were basically hostages in the bookshop who were almost killed by Michael and Saraqael. Crowley saved their lives in getting them out of the shop maybe, what? It's been a minute since I rewatched that bit of it but it couldn't have been more than 15 minutes prior?

The beings in the shop but for Maggie and Nina are supernatural and so left magically without using the door but while we the audience know that these people are no longer in the shop because we were watching it, Maggie and Nina do not know that. When Maggie suggests to Nina that they go talk to Crowley and Aziraphale, they have no way of knowing if the beings that just tried to kill them are still in the shop. They didn't even see Aziraphale leave with Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing yet because Nina was all "where's the other one?" to Crowley when they arrived back in the shop.

Maggie is literally like: Nina, I know you opened the business you own late and are the only one working right now and have a line of 20 people waiting for their morning, pre-work coffee but what if-- just hear me out-- we just made them wait an indefinite amount of time to voluntarily go back into the place where we nearly died a matter of minutes ago that could still be full of the people who wanted us dead and we did this for no other purpose than just to tell off my beloved adopted godfather and his partner, who just risked harm to save both our lives? And to maybe then also stick our noses into their love lives in return or something?

I mean... WHAT?!?! lol

Consider, even, how even more weird that is when Maggie, just *prior* to having gone to the mini-mart, had never been more on the same page with Nina and never more understanding?

She sacrificed her own want to go sleep behind the counter of her shop to offer to help Nina. It's a big moment of change in their relationship and shows a lot of growth for Maggie. She's gone from someone who is caring but has a tendency to only think about how things make her feel to seeing things from Nina's perspective. She's matured through the season into being someone more ready to be a partner to Nina. Maggie offering to help Nina with her morning rush-- and Nina accepting the help-- is the sweet, romantic moment showing that these two are heading in a positive direction, both individually and together.

When Maggie gets back with the milk, though? After she's been out of our sight for a few minutes? She's behaving very differently.

During S2, Maggie is shown to be a pretty guileless character. She might have the occasional judgemental moment but she's not deceptive or tricky and she really wouldn't hurt a fly. When Maggie comes back from the milk run, though, her insistence on Nina dropping everything and going with her in that moment is not just weird behavior but manipulative in a way that could not be more out of character for Maggie.

Nina has been in an abusive relationship where she was afraid of displeasing Lindsay. Maggie is aware of this, as it's been the subject of multiple conversations between them throughout the season. So, when Maggie gets so bizarrely insistent on Nina dropping her work-- her livelihood, her purpose, her job-- to meet Maggie's demands in that moment? When this isn't an emergency of any kind and isn't at all time-sensitive and there is no objective reason why Nina should be halting her job to do what Maggie wants in this moment? Maggie is being controlling in a Lindsay-like way. She keeps at it, knowing that Nina will give in and agree to go with her because Nina is used to doing that with her partner.

Nina hesitates and isn't sure whether or not to go with Maggie for a moment and I don't really blame her? This is the complete opposite behavior to Maggie before she left for the mini-mart. Maggie is suddenly acting quite a lot like her polar opposite-- the Lucifer-and-Heaven-paralleling Lindsay.

Maggie is also literally on Nina's shoulder like a devil the whole time in the scene in which she's convincing her to step away from the shop and go across the street with her to the other shop for a chat and...

...listen to what we just said there...

...it's a parallel to the thing that Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing is doing with Aziraphale, is it not?

So, what happened on the milk run?

Who did Maggie run into at the mini-mart that we couldn't see in the ending of S2 without it giving the game away? I wouldn't be surprised if, on this mirror-happy show, on the other side of learning in S3 that it was The Devil with the coffee in the bookshop in The Final 15, we also had a scene that showed that, while on her milk run, Maggie had a run-in with Sister Teresa's killer.

Did Hastur possess Maggie as part of Satan's plan? Was the idea to use Maggie and Nina to further trip Crowley and Aziraphale towards disaster to get Aziraphale? If so, it kind of half-worked. I'm not convinced that anything Maggie and Nina said to Crowley really mattered-- I think they weren't telling him anything he didn't already know or feel and that it's largely misdirection for the audience. What was effective, though, was the impression Aziraphale got upon seeing them leave as he was coming in.

Maggie and Nina being back in there at this weird time and then rushing out with smiles and comments like that they were "just leaving" and they were sure Crowley and Aziraphale had "a lot to discuss" seem to have led Aziraphale to assume that Crowley had asked them to come back and to the conclusion that he must have done so to tell them of his intent to ask Aziraphale to marry him. It's Maggie and Nina leaving the shop that reinforce to Aziraphale the idea that, when Crowley stands up afterwards, takes off his glasses, and says he supposes he has "something to say", that Crowley is only trying to communicate a proposal and not a plan.

It's what helps-- big time-- to lead Aziraphale to not listen for a shred of coded language for the entire scene. Neither he nor Crowley are listening for that with one another, which is why neither of them can truly understand what the other is saying, but Aziraphale's part of that is really fucked to Hell by the presence of Maggie and Nina in the shop when he came back. That's all pretty suspicious since Maggie was out of our sight for a few moments and came back fixated on the idea that she and Nina needed to go to the bookshop right that very moment and that it couldn't wait.

The Final 15 is a dark parallel to The Baby Swap plot and Maggie and Nina are full of shadows of Sisters Mary and Teresa to a point that the final shots of both of them in the series are mirror images of the final shots of their S1 characters. Nina looking through glass at Crowley departing is the last shot of Sister Mary both in 2008 and 2019, while Maggie's last shot?

To me, it's one of the most eerie moments in the entire series because of how much it visually resembles Sister Teresa's death.

Basically two minutes after we hear about The Second Coming... in the same season where Maggie and Nina's partial-vavoom gives way to a (possessed?) Gabriel saying: the dead will leave their graves and walk the Earth once more... we are shown Crowley and Aziraphale's apparent adopted goddaughter unresponsive on the counter of her shop.

Is Maggie dead?

Is Maggie asleep, like we were led to believe she wanted to do earlier in the episode? Maybe. Is she comatose/unconscious? Maybe. It's just that, best I can tell, she does not take a breath during the shot which I feel had to be intentional on the part of Maggie Service, and she's in the same position as we last saw Sister Teresa in S1...

Then, there's the robbery theme and how Maggie and Nina foreshadow so much of the end of S2 back in this scene here:

In Good Omens, the shop is the character. Maggie is, symbolically, the records she sells. The show also explains that Maggie's shop used to be a part of the bookshop. Now, there are three characters, not two, who are A.Z. Fell & Co.: Aziraphale, Crowley and Maggie. At the same time, Aziraphale is also The Small Back Room. The shops are intertwined as the characters are, essentially, family in the story. The fate of one is the fate of the other, which makes what Maggie and Nina foreshadow when talking about Maggie's shop while trapped together in Nina's not just the fate of Maggie's shop in S2 but also of the bookshop.

Maggie says that if she can't close the door to her shop, someone could walk in and take records. Maggie is the records she sells so, symbolically, this means someone could take Maggie. We got a bit of a preview of that when Shax appeared to get into her mind during the attack on the bookshop and Maggie also became the one who unintentionally "let the robbers in."

These robbers, Maggie frets... they could empty her till-- take all her money on a literal level... take her mind, or maybe even her life, on another. (Not to mention the now chill-inducing use of money-related words and coins with regards to the paralleling Crowley...) These robbers could take forcible ownership of Maggie's shop-- so, of Maggie. Maggie's shop was born of the bookshop... so, they could take forcible ownership of the bookshop, too.

Not just the physical bookshop, though that, too. The symbolic bookshop. Which is not only Aziraphale but Crowley and Aziraphale.

But, if The Small Back Room was originally part of the bookshop, then the bookshop really isn't just Crowley and Aziraphale-- it's Crowley, Aziraphale and Maggie.

If the robbers come for the bookshop, they've also come for The Small Back Room because it is all born of the same, symbolic shop.

Is that what they did?

Is that why Maggie is last shown to us non-responsive in her shop?

Now, Nina's even more foreshadowing reply:

Nina said that, if she owned a record shop, she'd be more concerned about "someone breaking in and leaving more records behind."

What are records? They're the literal records in the musical and old film sense that Maggie sells, yes, and also Maggie herself. They're also books, like what Aziraphale sells, and Aziraphale himself. But they're also a third thing that's very much of note in S2.

They're also the life's work of a scrivener, like what Muriel does.

Nina foreshadows someone breaking in and leaving "more records behind"... which is exactly what happens in The Final 15.

Elspeth's graverobbing. Bildad stealing Job and Sitis' wine and food. The 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. Aziraphale having the missing Shakespeare Robin Hood play in the box in 2.06. The robbery-based fantasy Aziraphale was telling Crowley in Lockdown: ...the other night, when a couple of young lads broke into the back and tried to steal the cash(cache)box!

The Final 15 is a robbery.

The last two episodes see the shop attacked during The Meeting Ball and into the next morning. Aziraphale is robbed blind of his entire life. Characters are taken hostage. Signals for help are tried and fail. The cop, it turns out, was a stooge for the robbers. Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing broke in through the open door and robbed the place blind, as Maggie foreshadowed. As Nina foreshadowed he would, what did the robber leave behind?

More records. Muriel.

To rob, as we know, is to steal. It's to plunder or strip a place from someone through force and/or violence. That is why it was once, in addition to being descriptive of physical goods stolen from a person, also a word that was used for rape, for which non-consensual possession has been analogous since the show's first episode. That is why some of us think that the music goes insane on the look to Crowley in the scene below. Satan is robbing Crowley-- forcing him to identify him as The Metatron to Aziraphale and the angels and to let Aziraphale go alone with him.

Satan attacked Crowley in front of Aziraphale and, while Aziraphale pretended he didn't see it, he did, which is why he led "The Metatron" straight out the door in an effort to get him away from Crowley. Because, speaking of characters behaving very weirdly... anyone have a better explanation for why guard dog Crowley sat in that chair like he couldn't get out of it and encouraged Aziraphale to go alone with a guy who once tried to kill them? It just doesn't make any sense unless his words are not really his own and there's only one character we've seen do that to him.

And if Crowley's not the only one behaving out of character, then what else happened to Maggie at the mini-mart but something similar?

What happened in The Final 15? Satan robbed the bookshop.

He and The Metatron don't give a toss about the shop itself and plan to destroy it alongside everything else once Armageddon gets rocking. They're there to get Crowley and Aziraphale out of the way for Armageddon by dividing and conquering. Just because we've yet to see blood doesn't mean this wasn't robbery by force.

Satan took hostages at the start-- letting the ones go he didn't care about go and keeping the ones most likely to influence the shop's owner: Crowley and Muriel.

Satan and The Metatron sacrificed Muriel to their plan, not caring if Muriel explodes along with the shop when they kick off Armageddon a matter of *checks watch* basically any minute now after S2. We think Muriel is better off in the shop at the end of S2 but I'm not totally sure they are. I think it actually might be one of the most dangerous places to be in right now. The bookshop didn't burn down this time-- it was burned as safe space in every possible way. It's a crime scene.

The Metatron and Satan are here for revenge. The Metatron is letting Satan have Aziraphale to get Crowley and Aziraphale out of the way for Armageddon. There is no real job offer-- it's all Satan tempting Aziraphale into falling. Satan's revenge on Crowley and Aziraphale is to force Crowley to help him take Aziraphale right out from under his nose. That's the start of it, anyway.

Besides Armageddon and daring to have a relationship and a sense of self outside of the demonic collective of Hell what is Satan really pissed at Crowley and Aziraphale about?

His kid. Adam. Crowley and Aziraphale helping Adam against him.

If Satan has been lying in wait, still very, very angry at Crowley and Aziraphale for turning his son against him and if he's now here for revenge, then who else besides Aziraphale is then most in peril here?

Yes, my Job-and-Sitis-paralleling poppet... your big, cross duck and your kids are most imperiled here and S2 showed us that your kids are not just humanity writ large but, specifically, Maggie. The Small Back Room is of the bookshop that is you and Crowley. Maggie is your Adam. Will Satan come after your daughter? It's a concept posed in your paralleling/foreshadowing story earlier in the season... actually, it was also the entire plot of that paralleling story earlier in the season as well...

I feel like not going with Ennon and Keziah's theories on Satan's behavior is probably the best way to form a Good Omens theory 😂 so I'll stick with the idea that Satan very much would dare leave a revenge body count of Crowley and Aziraphale's adopted kids, as the Job minisode proved he'd do even with the spawn of "God's favorite human", let alone anybody else.

As, speaking of foreshadowing lines, this is really even more S2 than it was about S1:

Satan will even have a whole pseudo-philosophical chat about it with you first, amused that he's standing in a place called Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death and ordering a coffee while the plan is likely for this place, the women making him the coffee, and everyone on this street and on most of the planet to be dead by tomorrow.

Maggie is the only character who actually asked for coffee using that exact word in S2.

[shigayokagayama]

mob warriors au redesigns and such, some i barely changed and others i pretty much started from scratch lol

full canvas and explanations under the cut, theres a bunch of other characters and stuff i didnt manage to fit or didnt have the energy to draw that ill probably get around to in the coming future

so by virtue of mob psycho kind of acting as a parody of a shonen in a lot of its characters and usage of tropes i felt like it was fitting that a warriors au sort of act as a parody of warriors.

basically, pretty much every major character is either a house cat of some sort, but they all see clan cats as these sort of cool aspirational things so they give themselves warrior names and know of general clan concepts (though, since the nearby clan left a long time ago due to twoleg construction on their territory, these concepts have sort of become distorted over time. istg i came up with this before warriorclan me and erin hunter just have some odd psychic link)

saltsplash (reigen) is a declawed kittypet who loves the taste of freshkill, so he has taken on the persona of a former medicine cat who came from far away on some sort of spiritual quest to help the cats in this area (in reality his owners just moved here) in order to get cats to catch prey for him in exchange for advice. flockpaw (mob) comes to him for advice, since he can see spirits and keeps getting dreams from starclan, and saltsplash agrees to take him as an apprentice

there is a pretty significant ghost problem in the area, the destruction of the moonstone equivalent (this isnt the setting of og warriors because i find switching what region/biome theyre in to be kind of part of the fun to making warriors aus so this is still japan. cats can now encounter monkeys.) has left a lot of souls trapped in the physical plane and unable to pass on. dimple (still going back and forth on his name) is one of these cats, he was a clan cat but so long ago that he's forgotten his original life and only remembers the goal of "bring back the clans with yourself as leader", which he initially tries to posses random cats to do before meeting flockpaw and settling on him as a good potential clan leader

the actual clans, meanwhile, have gone way downhill since they moved away. their numbers were dwindling pretty badly when hawkstar (toichiro) took over his clan, renamed it clawclan, conquered the other clans in the area and marked all his dissenters with scars, and has forged forward with the goal of reconquering their old territory in the twolegplace in the hopes that it will bring the clans back to their glory days. a lot of the more sensible cats, including his mate, have left the clan, so he's resorted to recruiting outsiders as well as kidnapping young cats with warrior potential in order to fill out their numbers

other stuff i dont want to write entire paragraphs for

-teru was someones outdoor cat but his owners moved :( he named himself starpaw and everyone who knows shit about the clans tries to tell him hes not allowed to do that but are too scared to argue further with him about it because he gets really pissed when you point it out

-the telepathy clubs goal is to meet lions, which everyone thinks arent real

-the awakening lab is mitsuura (curlystar maybe?)'s attempt to start his own clan

-the student council is a gang of young kittypets who have tasked themselves with enforcing "the warrior code" among the delinquents (rivals gangs of young alley cats). all the older cats see this as a game theyre playing and dont take it seriously

-flashpaw (mezato) was part of dimple's initial play to brainwash a bunch of cats into reforming a clan and worshiping "starclan" (him) and those group of cats have shifted to seeing flockpaw as starclans prophet, so she's trying to convince HIM to start a new clan

-rainshade (serizawa) was initially a kittypet who always hid in his cat carrier out of his fear of his starclan given powers, hawkstar found him on one of his recruiting missions because his mother was worried for him and was asking around for someone with experience with starclan

-mogami (crowflight maybe? maggotsomething?) was an actual former warrior who went to twolegplace to get help for his sick mother after starclan said there was nothing that could be done for her. kittypets offered to get her help in exchange for him helping them with spirit problems and got their owners to bring her to the cutter (vet) and when they did the vets put her down so he started killing cats about it seeing them all as selfish thugs beyond redemption before his own death and transformation into a vengeful spirit

-minori (still thinking of a name bc i dont have her design down) is someones very haughty purebred show cat who gets hella possessed.

-didnt anyone ever teach you feeding downed fledglings was bad manners?

-SunClan (the rising sun union) are a gang of random housecats, some of whom have actual StarClan connections and others are just opportunistic liars, who use extremely predatory means to help cats with their ghost problems (asking for a specific share of a cat's meals permanently rather than saltsplash's ask of like. one fresh songbird)

thats all the stuff i can think of off the top of my head but if you ask questions i can probably answer them bc ive been thinking about this since like. march 2022.

[writerfae]

Okay, so now that I'm awake: The mighty Willow dying, am I right?

Let's think about this! First off: Why is it dying, because I personally wouldn't want to give the Willow Court the Alder Court backstory, sooo...

But regardless, it's dying. And Callan has to sacrifice himself

The thing is that the whole court would be devastated, because Callan's a great king plus he's the baby they prayed for the moon goddess to save!

And imagine his friends! Rhys would lose his best friend!

Imagine Amelie!

And, of course: Henry...

I can't decide if Henry would accept Callan's decision or try and keep him from going through with it. I mean in the end he would surely realize that it's the only way to save the court but I could see him having a brief "I'm not letting you do this" panic moment.

And afterwards Henry just cries and cries and holds Callan in his arms. And Aiden would I think try to comfort him the best he can, but...

Another great angst idea:

Same concept but with the royal willow siblings! Because then here's what I think could happen:

All three of them arguing over who gets to sacrifice themselves and I can imagine a heartbreaking scene where:

Celene and Tamlen are arguing, Celene claiming that she should do it because she is the queen and the oldest, Tamlen arguing that that is precisely why she shouldn't do it, and he'll do it instead... and while they're arguing, Nolan sneaks over and does it himself 😭😭😭

Haha do you truly were coming back for this xD

Okay, so hypothetically the Willow could die. All mighty trees can if their spirit or the tree itself get damaged. It doesn’t have to be like with the Alder court.

So this would be the backstory for this scenario.

But like maybe someone who isn’t the king could try to pull a Rook on the Willow (obviously they would fail, but they could damage the Willow enough for it to fall sick) or someone would find a way to like poison it or something.

And I totally see your ideas! Really delicious angst! With Callan doing it cause it has to be done and his friends and family grieving him. Henry especially, obviously. He’d only let Callan do it if it’s the last chance they have, knowing he cant stop his beloved from doing what he put his mind on.

But let me raise you this: Callan sacrificing himself after Henry died. Callan, at this point an old king with grown up kids, grieving the loss of the love of his life.

Him sacrificing himself to the Willow not only cause he’s the king and this is the best and last service he can do for his people (especially his children, the one thing from Henry he still has), a death of far more use for them than one of heartbreak. But also because then he doesn’t have to live without Henry anymore.

I also like the idea to do it with the siblings. I could see them arguing about who will do it, all trying to keep each other safe. Also, I agree that if one of them were to do the sacrifice, Nolan would do it. He’d be best suited.

The poor siblings though. In both scenarios…

[capybonara]

The Zorca and their Migration Routes

Brain zoomies strike again but I wanted to add visual aid to these particular bits of story that have been running in my brain. Putting it all under a cut FOLLOW ME!

Spring: Lanayru Sea

Taking the events going on in @werewolfsister's comic, the relationship between the Domain and the Zorca have grown. Sardon, Cironus, Kaska ,and sometimes little Kaso, have become frequent visitors while their pod remains out in the bay and ocean area.

The water ways allowed Sardon and Cironus to get into all sorts of trouble when they were younger.

When they were just starting to test the limits of how far they could go from their pod, and small enough not to alarm other hyrulian races(mistaken for slightly taller zora boys) They came upon Kakariko Village by chance and during the late hours of the night raided a pumpkin patch and devoured everything. Not knowing they were the reason the present day Olkin is so protective of them. Maybe one day they can go back and make amends somehow…

The end of spring marks their next journey along with their big courting event!

Summer: Akkala Sea

As spring comes to a close, other pods start to converge in Lanayru so they can all make the trip together to Akkala. The main reason for this is for their courting event called Turning the Wheel. Which is a metaphor for life and death cycles, as well as their destination, the Rist Peninsula!

The younger zorca who are of age participate in a race to get to the end of the spiral at Rist Peninsula. But it's less about who gets there first and more about who they end up racing side by side with ("the treasure is the friends you make along the way!"). Older zorca take their time because they're socializing with old friends and previous partners. Those who participate in the game usually arrive a day earlier before the main group.

The pairings can come about unexpectedly! A zorca may hit it off with someone as they race. Or it can be planned, where partners agree to race together. There's no shame for anyone reaching the end without a partner though as they can try next season.

Non-zorca partners are allowed to participate in this event as well. Couples don't have to finish the race either, if they want to, they can break away and join the slower group, or head off together for more private entertainments. But a many enjoy reaching the end because once the entire group reaches the center of the peninsula they have their own party with food and singing to mark the start of summer!

Cironus and Sardon have played the game several times, and always reached the end solo. To avoid the matchmaking attempts by his grandmother, Sardon found a way to avoid courting by simply being faster than anyone trying to keep pace with him. Cironus enjoys the thrill of the game but no one has matched his pace either.

Once the summer of love is over its time to move on to...

Autumn: Necluda Sea

This is an especially important time for pregnant zorca! Their pregnancy can take over a year, so those who participated in last years courting event are ready for babies and need to be prepared for what's to come.

@werewolfsister's Domain of the Sunken Garden is located between the South East coast of Hyrule and Eventide Island. The Zorca have done gift exchanges with Oley and Tajin since the zorca themselves cannot reach the depths of their home.

Somewhere south of Eventide Island is where the Zorca perform their burial rites. When an individual passes, no matter the season, the pod travels to these waters to lay them down to rest in a whale fall event.

When the temperature shifts, and due dates are getting nearer its time to head on...

Winter: Faron Sea

Faron Sea is where the Zorca go to have their babies! Every baby born is a precious addition to their pod since the Zorca are so few in number. New and experienced mothers work over time with hunting and everyone else pitches in to help care for the little ones. The nursery is closely guarded, and anyone who doesn't have business there sticks around in the open waters.

Because the villagers of Lurelin fish in the same waters, the Zorca offer their assistance in any way they can, by helping them catch fish or chasing off monsters!

When spring rolls around again, they say goodbye to their friendly neighbors, and the newborns are strong enough to make the trip back to Lanayru to begin the seasons all over again.

[darkcrowprincess]

@rweoutofthewoods

*Got inspired to write this little scene for your fic prey*

"What about a constellation/star name like my family does?" Regulus offers. At the sound of his voice, James comes into the loo to check on him. James stills and leans on the doorframe at the sight of the(his?) Omega.

Regulus Arcturus Black is for once calm( it's telling by the sweet content smell coming from him), soaking in the tub of warm mineral bath water. Most of Regulus' body is hidden by the water, you can only see Regulus arms and head leaning on one side, laying on a bath pillow. He has a book close to his face hiding his expression, dark curls slicked back with water.

The only other thing you can see is quite obvious. Like a little island in the middle of all that water is Regulus' stomach. It's his round, 5 months pregnant stomach. The sight of it brings something warm and possessive inside James. Both Alpha and just James in general.

Regulus at James' silence, finally lowers the book a little so his storm gray eyes can peak up at him from over the edge of his book. 'His eyes look happy,' thinks James.

"James what do you think?", said Regulus.

Shaking away the thought, James focuses on the now. And the now is Regulus(his Omega he can't think).

"A constellation/star name? Really? I was thinking more of the first thing I called them when I first found out," James jokes playfully. Not being able to stay put anymore, James goes to him. Kneeling right by the tub, James lays his head and arms on the tubs edge.

At that Regulus scoffs, and brings the book back up to hide his face. "We are not calling him oops."

James grins at Regulus, "How do you know it's a him?" James gently lays his hand on Regulus stomach. Soothingly rubbing his thumb along the wet skin.

"Just a feeling," Regulus mumbles shy. Trying to act like the touch is not affecting him, but James has eyes and a nose. The alpha can smell the affect he's having on the Omega, and see the sweet pink flush on his pale cheeks.

"Where did you get the book?" James questioned. Said book is "Book of names for your little witch or wizard."

Regulus turns a page and replies, "Owl ordered it. Was the best one they had. Most popular baby names for witches and wizards for the 80s." Regulus than frowns in annoyance, lowering the book from his face. To James he looks like a grumpy cat. A grumpy cat that makes you want to kiss his nose. James resists the temptation for now.

"Nothing sounds right," Regulus mutters. He hands the book to James, than runs his hands over his stomach. His touching James. As if they both want to sooth the unborn child at the same time. "Names have meaning, and he should have a strong name. Something that can protect him when we can't."

James skims through the book, not really looking. Honestly (and this is crazy, but it's James), the Alpha had already thought of a few names. After the first few weeks (and what a hard time those were) James without realizing it started thinking of a couple of names.

James offers casually, "What about Harry?"

Regulus who was leaning back fully onto the bath pillow, twitches than looks up at James. "Harry?" James smiles as Regulus sounds out the name. "Harry if it's a boy, and maybe Effie if it's a girl," continues James.

Regulus squints his eyes at James in thought. James babbles on nervous. " Effie is obviously for my mom. And well the name Harry just fits you know. At first it sounds like a normal name, but when you look up the meaning, it means strong. War god. Someone who has strength. And you were right, our baby could use all the-."

James is stopped from his babbling by Regulus, who puts soft wet fingers to his lips.

"I like it."

"You do?" James smiles at his nod. Finally them agreeing on something.

James kisses Regulus fingers in happiness, causing again for Regulus to blush.

Than wanting to be bold(Gryffindors, give them an inch and they take a mile), James leans over to Regulus round stomach and kisses near the belly button. "Hear that baby? You'll name will be Harry."

Regulus is trying not to smile, but do to hormones the Omega is failing.

To his Alpha he says, " Harry James Potter."

James looks back up at him in shock, but the shock on his face quickly turn to pure happiness and some other unnamable second emotion (it's love, neither of them dares to admit that. Even to themselves).

And because that causes James so much happiness, he leans over to kiss his Omega right on the mouth. His Omega kisses right back and than some. For now all is well for the three of them.

[timetravellibrarian]

Zoro x reader

Zoro x femreader

Summary: A man seeks to follow his dreams, following only the path his swords carve for him and wherever his crew goes. Little does he know that the missing piece in his life, his soulmate whom he doesn't admit that he tries to seek would end up in a love-hate relationship.

_________________________________________

Chapter Three

You found yourself on the very same large rock at your islands beach, eyes looking over to the ocean. The mark in your wrist reminding you of the small ache in your heart. Your soulmate.

No night ever falls without your mind going to whoever out there in the world was meant for you. Someone who would choose you first. Someone who would love you unconditionally without the expected duty. You honestly didn't know how to explain what you felt.

"Penny for your thoughts, my lady?"A whisper broke you out if your thoughts, a small squeak barely escaping your lips before you felt yourself slipping from the rocks surface. The drop would be devastating had it not been for firm arms immediately wrapping themselves around your waist and pulling you flush against the one who intruded in your quiet time.

"My lady! I'm so sorry, he– I didn't see him pass throug–"

"It's alright Lyra. I'm alright." Your eyes went to your friend who seemed to have been thrown into panic, her rushed steps trying to balance in the rocks to try and reach you. Alas you were in the arms of the man you were promised to marry, Prince Cassius.

He let out a small huff of amusement as he picked you up bridal style and headed down the variously shaped rocks with waves crashing harshly against them. Soon Lyra, Cassius and you had landed safely on the dock, the prince placing you down.

"I apologize, princess. I wished to speak with you but I had been informed that you weren't in the castle."

You nodded, a look of curiosity at what he wanted to talk to you about.

"...then I asked your sister and brothers where you ought to be at this hour and they didn't know..."

"How did you find me here?"

He smiled," I have my ways, princess. Or should I refer to you as my beloved seeing as we are to wed in a month's time."

'A MONTH!'

"Pardon, a month you say?" The mark on your wrist felt like a rocks piling up on top of your body, held up by little hope.

"Exactly why I wanted to talk to you. My father spoke with the king and have agreed on a date at around this time next month.

You stayed silent. Looking up at his chestnut brown eyes,the unnoticeable freckles on his face. His sharp nose. 'My children might inherit that'

"I know this is a large step for you." His hands went to yours, fingers trailing over R.Z that's was etched onto your wrist by fate. His lip quirked down in unnoticeable displeasure at its sight. " I will do my best to love you as much as any soulmate would. Maybe even more."

His eyes locked onto yours longer than you were used to, his words were like a promise. One that wouldn't be broken. But promises are merely words used to appease fools. Maybe right now you would allow yourself to believe. What could possibly go wrong?

_______________________________________

"Don't you wonder who your soulmate is?" Sanji said as he placed a cigarette to his lips. His eyes went to the uncovered mark on Zoro's wrist. The whole time he had gotten to know the swordsman he never heard much word about his soulmate. The matter shut down with a glare or met with silence.

Everyone present on deck almost held their breath. Robin , Nami, even Luffy.

"I have thought about them." Zoro answered, taking a sip of the bottle in his hands,"I've never stopped." And true to his word he never has.

The sun never rose without his mind wandering to the mark on his wrist. The one connection he had with the person who was truly meant for him.

All his life Zoro had been fighting. He fought in Shimotsuki Village, growing up. He fought in Shells Town before and after he met Luffy. Now he's in Skypeia and he's fought since since Enel had discovered them. Almost everyday he fights to fulfill his dream. To become the world's greatest swordsman.

But do dreams keep a man warm? Do dreams chase after him as much as he does?

He loves his crew, would die for them even. But what is this feeling of loneliness that lies deep within the pit of his stomach and cuts deeper that a sword against his skin.

He looked at the swirly haired cook, the bane of his existence.

"Then why don't you try to find them?!" Luffy yelled, his face staying in confusion. "They're somewhere out there aren't they?"

Nami slapped Luffy upside the head. "Don't be an idiot Luffy. The world's too big. He or she could be anywhy."

"Not to mention that anyone can have those initials." Robin added, paging through her book.

"And they could possibly be a marine, a rival pirate, a serial killer, an arsonist, a murderer and other very bad things." Chopper added as he came back from restocking the infirmary. He sat down beside Robin as she read.

"You guys really know how to cheer up a guy," Sanji said as he blew out a puff of smoke," Those are realistic expectations. But let's be positive for a second."

"Skip the positivity, I'd rather not sit around and wait to be swept off my feet. Life goes on. I'm sure wherever my soulmate is she's fine." Zoro took one last gulp of his drink. Washing down the sense of foreboding that plagued his senses

_________________________________________

She in fact wasn't gonna be fine

@mars-mizuko

@bi-narystars

@mythicallystupid

@urbisexualfriend

[deluxewhump]

Ingrid calls Carlo a pet name

CW: mention of nausea and headache (Ingrid is pregnant with Jack here). The movies are The Two Towers and ROtK btw ;)

It was barely noon, and Ingrid lay in the master bedroom with a cloth over her forehead. It had long since stopped being cool, and was now only damp instead of wet. She moved it an inch so it touched her hairline and the air cooled the wet skin it exposed.

Thick green curtains were drawn against the heat and light of midday. Insects trilled in the grass outside and she could hear a dog barking distantly— a neighbor of theirs habitually let his two yellow labs run loose around the wooded hills and they sometimes wandered onto Max’s property. Carlo worried about his cat, Lou, who would hiss if he saw them from the window and climb into his master’s arms flicking his tail.

Max told him Lou was too smart to ever get anywhere near those dogs. He was more worried about coyotes than the labradors, he’d said. Carlo had bent his head to press his mouth into Lou’s black fur, frowning at the mention of the coyotes. Sometimes they screamed at night from the tree line, sounding for a moment like human shrieks and then like the mad baying of a dozen wild dogs.

As if summoned by her wandering thoughts, Lou jumped on the bed, stretching his back and chirping in question. Ingrid held out a hand and felt the brush of whiskers on her palm. For half a second, she thought it was Max that appeared in the doorway. But Max was in D.C. all day at a conference. It was Carlo.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you want me to grab him? The door was cracked. He pushed it open.”

“No,” Ingrid answered as serenely as she could manage. “He’s good company.”

“Do you… need anything?”

She almost told him no, but thought of something. “Could you get me a ginger ale? They’re the little mini cans, on the door, bottom shelf.”

“Yeah,” he said, like he was surprised but pleased she’d said yes. Max was always asking Carlo things like that. It’s cold, you need socks? Want a blanket? I’m getting a drink, can I get you something, baby? She’d never loved someone by proxy before, but that’s how it was with him. It was Max’s steadfast love for him that instructed her, like slowly picking up bits of an accent. One day she saw him curled up in an armchair, head bent over a book, running his finger absently over his lower lip. Softly, like a gradual summer dusk, she realized she now loved him too.

Lou curled up a short distance from her and began to purr. Carlo returned with a can of cold ginger ale and popped open the tab before handing it to her, another of Max’s mannerisms. “You’re sweet,” she told him, taking a long drink and set it on the nightstand.

“God,” she complained, and lay back on her side. “I feel like a truck hit me.”

“How long will that last?” asked Carlo softly, conscious of her aching head.

“Oh, another couple of weeks maybe. What’re you doing today?”

He shrugged.

“I’m gonna put on a movie, if you want to wallow with me.”

He gave her a little smile and agreed, climbing onto Max’s side of the bed and curling up on his side in a mirror of her own position. Lou got up to reposition next to Carlo’s chest, and Carlo draped his arm over him. Ingrid clicked the TV on with the remote and tucked her knees closer to her chest.

By the end of the film, Lou had left them but Carlo had gotten under the top blanket and tilted his head close to her so she could not help but lay her hand in his soft hair, grazing her fingertips over his scalp. The sun had begun to descend from its zenith, evident by the angle and color of the light that persisted through the seams of the pulled curtains.

“Do you want to watch the next one, baby?” she whispered when the credits rolled, wondering if he might be asleep.

He moved an inch closer to her and nodded. She let her hand drift back to his hair. She’d never called him that before. It was Max’s favorite pet name for him, and she didn’t know if she was allowed. It seemed strange, having come from her lips and not from Max’s, but he did not give any indication there was anything amiss. She pulled her nails gently up the warm base of his neck and into his hair, over and over, to the rhythm of the oscillating fan.