#Is Black Magic Real and How to Remove it

[howtoexloveback]

Use black magic to avoid the issues from love life

It is the best experience in our home being in love or a beautiful relationship. You are about to contact with a person who holds the same feeling. It is a blissful time to being in a relationship that is ending up with marriage. It is only possible when you and your partner are dedicated to marriage or you have true love. But sometimes things are not working like as you planned. You have to do…

[islamicspecialistforloveback]

Learn Here How To Destroy Black Magic By Dua

Today we talk about Dua to destroy black magic from where it came from, We all have our vices. Identifying them and overcoming them is what makes us humans and separates us from animals. Anger, hatred, and jealousy; these emotions are normal. But, a good human doesn’t succumb to these emotions. But, at times – people are not strong enough to fight those emotions. That’s when they turn to things…

[obeymeluv]

Enchanting a Fae - Malleus x Reader

A random Malleus x Reader

Malleus isn't sure why he comes to your dorm so often. His booted feet take him there automatically, he supposes. If Lilia were to ask him, he's just making the rounds on his usual haunts and looking for pieces of forgotten grotesques and gargoyles in need of cleaning. Ramshackle was a prime destination for all things forgotten and dusty, after all.

Perhaps it can also be a home to things muddy and sopping.

A small smile twists the edges of Malleus' lips as he blinks rain from his emerald eyes. It's ironic that he, future King of Briar Valley and fifth most powerful mage in the world, was caught unaware by the weather.

How very human. It's a beautiful experience, to drown in the quiet hush of rain.

He steps lightly but with purpose, long shadow breezing up the walkway to your door. It swells as lightning tap-dances behind him. Thunder rumbles, much like the sound he tries to swallow down as you crack the door open hesitantly, face melting into one of welcome.

Oh, child of man...Malleus feels the warm swirl in his chest tighten as you take his hand and pull him inside. He ducks his head, finally remembering to pull his horns down enough so they don't scrape the frame like they have in the past.. "Fae are supposed to be invited in," he reminds you. "And I told you, you always have a standing invitation." you say with a gentle dismissiveness that both humbles and endears him. You continue to show him that you care not for his title or his princely demands. You treat him like all the others. He does his best to stand on the welcome mat you thrifted, afraid the water will rot the ancient floor and leave you with something else to fix. You scurry back with towels and some spare clothes that smell like human. Not you, but human. Malleus can't stop the angry rumble in his throat as he realizes that smell is probably from your human friends at Heartslabyul. Clothes for other men? Disgusting. You always forget he has another set of vocal chords and he excuses the noise as 'clearing his throat'. "It's all I have," you murmur, unsure now if you should take the offer back. He can tell you're still debating that uncouth noise, the slip of the tongue.

"I accept your generosity." Malleus knows it won't be a perfect fit, but it would do better than your clothes. Not that he didn't like the idea of adorning himself in your scent. Turning away from you a little, Malleus removes the purple striped belt at his waist and undoes the many gold buttons on his curious coat. You can't tell what the black shirt is underneath but it sticks to him and you find yourself trying to tear your eyes away and commit him to memory all at once.

Not in the creepy way! Just in the 'I've never seen Malleus in just gloves, a shirt, pants, and boots before' kind of way. He's none the wiser, realizing he has a real problem on his hands. The gloves he chose are water resistant but they've somehow gone flush against his slick skin and feel more like a seal than a savior. His draconian nails cannot save him, blunted and useless in the leather. Should he use his teeth? What if he hooked them on the edge of a horn and just shimmied it off? You can practically read his mind and grab his hand before he can raise it near his head. "Don't do that! You'll ruin them!" you give a huffy laugh at his simple, boyish logic and it takes every ounce of control from all his decades of walking upright to keep his tail from smashing a hole in your floor.

He watches you drape the loaner clothes around your neck like some sort of scarf as you motion for his hand.

Your hands are almost cartoonishly small in his as they trace the stitching and try to feel for any buttons or ridges. Small, but so considerate and so warm. Dragons run warm from the fire and magic in their blood but he cannot explain why your touch is absolutely radiating and searing him in the most comforting way through the leather. He almost hopes you never figure out how to take them off so you can just fiddle with his hands forever. Malleus relaxes into your touch, basking in the care and attention.

His hopes are dashed when the glove separates slightly from his lax wrist and you free his hand. You pull off the other one. If he had no shame, he'd make a cool request for you to hold them and warm them. "Boots off, then change." you give him a small rag for his hands and point to his feet. Delighted and somewhat surprised to be your willing subject, Malleus obeys and starts to take off his boots.

He braces himself against your wall with one hand, mindful not to put himself through it like he almost did the mine tunnel at Beanfest. One boot off, he wrestles blindly with the other. Malleus is much more interested in how you tend to the pitiful fire in your fireplace. Your back is to him and whatever you're wearing leaves you shapeless but cozy. The embers crackle in the hearth, the light dancing across your face in a way that makes something baser claw at the pit of his stomach.

Shiny thing. Dragons like shiny things. You would be a most gorgeous shiny thing. Always ethereal, no matter what you're wearing or doing. If you would permit him, you would be his most valued treasure.

His heart sings at the thought, almost tying itself in a knot. That low, tingling feeling comes back to him and Malleus wants to croon his Dragon Song. It would fall on deaf ears, so to speak, as you have no dragon blood to appeal to. "Your eyes are doing that thing again." Malleus flinched a little, green fire sparking in his mouth as a warning puff of smoke dissipated between you. He didn't realize you'd come upon him again. The dragon relaxed, turning his head away as he exhaled the building smoke through his nose before it could send him into an undignified coughing fit.

Lilia had been consulting his grandmother on some behaviors as of late and both arrived to the same conclusion: he's experiencing draconian puberty. 'The thing' his eyes do are a sign of said puberty. It is the unfurling of all his emotions, the dilation of his eyes signaling his interest and trying to draw you ever deeper to him. In a way, it is a thrall, but it leaves him at your mercy as much as it should leave you in his.

Somehow, you don't take it as hard. If his world wasn't a sudden explosion of the scent of your skin and soap, the heat of your body, and the curious fondness with which you look at him, he would ponder this injustice further.

But he does not. Right now he can't even find the words for a simple lie, a diversion, as he breathes in the smell of you and tries not to melt. To have you touch him right now would be the worst thing but he's never wanted it more. He wants so badly to sink his fangs into your wrist, your neck, and let you wear the affectionate bruises like a family crest. His family crest.

"You're supposed to be getting changed," you admonish him.

"Mmm, but I can't," Malleus refrains from snuggling into the small towel you're blotting against his face. He closes his eyes and tries to sense the heat of your hand through the fabric as you move carefully around his lashes. "I'm being tended to and it would be rude to interrupt," he teases.

"No point in giving you dry clothes if you're going to get them wet putting them on." you laugh. He swallows thickly as you brush his throat dry. "Now go change," you swat him with the rag. Body towel and clothes in one hand, damp footprints follow Malleus to a spare room.

As he suspected, the clothes were ill-fit for his frame. Spade and Trappola were smaller than he was, being human and all. It was another thing entirely to get the shirt over his head without shredding it on his horns. He's afraid to move his arms too much and hopes he's not offending you by pulling the pants low enough to give his tail room. You've just finished laying his clothes out on dry towels before the fire and he's grateful.

It is a dying fire. You have a small supply of kindling and old papers to feed it but he doesn't think it will be enough. "I would like to repay your generosity with a gift. May I?" "You know you don't have to get me anything," you wave him off. He's not sure if it's a human trait or a you trait but you don't take easily to gifts.

"But it is practical and will serve us both," he knows he's caught your attention. He can see you trying to figure out what kind of gift that would be. Malleus approaches the fire, kneels down, and breathes it in. Dragons who can breathe fire, like himself, can convert outside sources of heat to their fire on rare occasions. You jump when he spits out a green flame and it roars to life, casting the walls in jeweled light and emitting a heat you didn't know you missed.

"Cozy!" you chirp. It was a gentle kind of heat that would be perfect for snuggling under a blanket. He sits on the other end of the sofa, a respectful cushion between you, and rests his head on a hand as he looks at you.

"And it will last much longer! You needn't fret about it getting out of control, either. It is my fire, and I can control it." he sees the beginning of sleep on you. Malleus grew up with Silver and was all too familiar with the slow descent into a nap. You make a valiant effort, he will give you that. You're in the middle of a soft argument about being rude to company and Malleus laughs despite himself.

He dropped in uninvited. Certainly that's more rude, yes?

The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, the fae more amused than he has been in a long time as your eyes get heavier. You look stunning in the green glow and he can't help but think you'd look just as ravishing in black.

In a crown. On a throne. In his bed. All of these things have the Dragon Song welling up in him again. The buzzing in his chest closes off his ears; Malleus jumps to alertness as you tug gently on the ends of his dark hair. "You let your hair down. It'll get weird if it dries in a ponytail holder."

It takes some effort, but he untangles it from his hair. "What shall I do about you, Child of Man?" he muses. "I will be forever indebted to your attentiveness."

"Did you find anything cool on your walk? You always show me." your eyes twinkle with the vestiges of consciousness. This is your one final push before succumbing to sleep, he can tell. He did, in fact, find things to show you and had forgotten them until now. When you're drenched, everything just feels heavy and soaked through. Malleus fishes the random items from his coat pocket and settles back down on the couch.

You've seen all manner of things at this point--feathers, polished rocks, twisted roots that looked interesting, pieces of statues, actual gems--and it never gets old. He presents you with a rock carved into the shape of a bear, a chunk of what might have been an old cup, and a ring.

The ring doesn't catch your eye right away. You're too busy playing with the bear. He wiggles his hand so the firelight catches it and you still. Malleus takes the bear from you, flipping your hand over to slide it on your finger. "A gift, my dearest."

"Malleus, I--" you start to protest.

"We fae are no strangers to offerings, both giving and receiving. It would be a disservice to present you with anything less." he speaks over you, his words gentle but commanding. He kisses your hand.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought of dating him. It just seemed a little silly--a random no-name person and the fae prince? What kind of cliche was this?

A handsome one that was staring you right in the face.

"If you'd like more, the best I can offer you is a kingdom." he teases, lounging back against the sofa. He said it so casually that it caught you off guard. You're face is almost unbearably hot and Malleus chuckles.

"A whole kingdom?" you finally recover. "I'll take it."

Oh, there it went. Malleus felt the trap snap shut on his heart. This was the lethal moment Lilia warned him. He was helplessly smitten and enchanted. Irreversibly so.

"Truly?" he's before you in a second, one hand around your waist and the other holding the one with the ring. "Now is not the time to jest, Child of Man. I offer you my heart in earnest and the reply must be just as true!" he's staring up at you through his bangs and you swear you see more scales on his forehead.

"W-Well, yeah," you stutter. "I wouldn't mind. Just kind of thought we would do more dates and stuff first," your face was heating up again.

"We shall, as many as you like!" he's scooped you up in one arm, cradling you to his chest. You threw your legs around him so you didn't fall backwards but he doesn't notice, pulling your other hand over his shoulder. "Every day, even! As soon as the weather clears, in fact!" "But it'll be dark out!" you protest. Malleus probably could change the weather if he wanted but that wouldn't stop the ground from squelching and things being nasty. He stopped excitedly rambling about walks and things to do.

"We've walked in the dark before?" he doesn't understand why you don't want to go out this particular time. "And I have seen you to your door, safe and sound every time."

"But we're already here. Together. Inside." you explain slowly. "Maybe we could...cuddle...a little."

Oh yes. Splendid idea! Malleus all but dives for the couch at the suggestion. It is a paltry nest but it's yours. You're still recovering from the recoil, glad he fell back first and didn't squish you.

Did you just hear something rip? You hope he didn't break the couch. You don't get much time to think about it as he pulls you close and tucks you under his chin like he's been rehearsing it with a pillow. He's just the right combination of soft and muscle, of guard and gentle as he figures out where to put his hands. He settles for one supporting his head and the other cradling yours.

It's very awkward because he's mostly off the couch but he can't be bothered. You're slowly drifting to sleep in his arms and he's never felt more joy. He watches with deep interested, practically holding his breath as you sleep. Faes don't need as much sleep as humans but he doesn't think he could sleep if he tried because you've been courted by him!

Malleus is roused by his phone sometime later. The couch is small and cumbersome to him but it's held up. He begrudgingly untangled himself from you to answer it, long arm just reaching it on the table.

"Yes?"

It's Lilia. "Where are you, young man? We've been trying to reach you!"

He had fifteen missed calls from Sebek, eight from Lilia, and some text messages from Silver.

"Ensnared, I fear." Malleus smiles into the crown of your head. "I'm doomed to languish in absolute bliss. It's a very powerful enchantment, you see."

"Taken the leap, have you, Malleus?" he could hear the smile in Lilia's voice.

"I have, and I've landed in something quite wonderful."

"We fae are supposed to trick and trap, not the other way around! But...at least you're safe. Make it known that I will not tolerate--"

"Any eggs before marriage." Malleus rolled his eyes. He'd only heard that a million times recently.

"If you're not back at Diasomnia in two hours, I'll break that enchantment myself. Understood?"

"And if I object?" Malleus challenged, patting your head as you began to move.

There was a moment of silence. "I shall tell your grandmother."

Malleus hung up.

That might do the trick, he thought, brows raised. His grandmother was from an older generation of fae who were still entrenched in anti-human beliefs. Would she love you because he did? Could you enchant her, too? One look at your sleeping face, so at peace and pressed up against him, had him convinced.

Yes, he was pretty sure you could enchant any fae. It certainly worked on him.

[cy-cyborg]

How The Owl House did amputee representation right before Eda ever lost her arm - Disability in Media

[ID: A screenshot of Eda from The Owl House, an old woman with pale skin, very large, grey hair and pointed ears in a red dress. Beside the screenshot on a dark pink background is text that reads "Disability in media, How the Owl House got amputee representation right before eda ever lost her arm." /End ID]

Dana Terrace's The Owl House has some of the best disability rep I’ve seen on a Disney channel show in a long time, with Eda, the main character’s mentor, being one of many stand-out examples.

Plenty of people have discussed how Eda’s curse and the loss of her magic can work as an allegory for disability and how refreshing it is to see a story (especially one aimed at a younger audience) who’s focus is not on her “overcoming” it, but learning to accept it as a part of her and go from there. Eda’s story tackles a lot of subjects that are often mishandled in other examples of disability representation, from the subject of parents who refuse to accept, to glass siblings and much, much more, The Owl House handles all these topics beautifully.

But one thing that dawned on me during my most recent re-watch of The Owl House is how well Eda (and later Lilith) worked as amputee representation, long before Eda actually lost her arm.

One of the side effects of Eda and Lilith’s curse is that sometimes their body parts, mainly their limbs, can fall off. It doesn’t hurt them, and Eda is seen removing them intentionally at multiple times in the series, but they can always be reattached.

[ID: an image of Eda holding her sister Lilith's hand. Lilith is a pale woman with long, black hair, wearing grey clothes. She is looking at her other arm suprised, as her hand is missing. Luz, a Latina girl with short brown hair and a purple hoodie is looking on, smiling. /End ID]

While most likely unintentional, the way the show depicts this with Eda in particular is exactly what I wish more people would do with their prosthetic-using amputee characters.

Eda detaches her limbs, especially her legs, when they’re inconvenient or when she’s relaxing.

[ID: an image of Eda laying on the couch in a bathrobe, her hair in a towel. She has taken her legs off, throwing them to the other side of the seat. /End ID]

The fact that this is mostly played for laughs is actually a good thing in my opinion (though obviously, the show’s overall tone is part of that), as it shows the audience who are mostly children and teens, that in a world of weird and downright scary (from the perspective of the characters) things, this isn't one of them. It’s just a thing she and Lilith can do, and it can even be funny.

[ID: An image of Luz and Eda dressed as pirates. Eda is sitting on the ground, her legs detached and off screen somewhere. /End ID]

It does startle Luz and Lilith on a few occasions, but that’s more because they didn’t know the curse could do that, but once they’re introduced to it, it’s never really brought up as a big deal again.

I’d love to see more amputee characters who do this with their prosthetics. So often media is almost afraid to have amputees take their prosthetics off on camera or on the page. For some folks, our prosthetics are like a part of our bodies, but that doesn’t mean we never take them off. Show your leg amputee flop on the couch and throw their legs across the room. Have them go without on occasion, not because they have to, but because they just don’t feel like putting them on.

Likewise, the owl house creators never shy away from showing Eda when her limbs aren’t all attached. A lot of media, and kid’s shows in particular, will avoid having an amputee character’s stump visible if they ever do take their prosthetics off - treating that part of the character’s body the same way they treat gore or nudity. I’ve talked before how this actually does have a real impact on how kids in particular react to amputees - I’ve legitimately had kids I worked with cry when I took my prosthetics off, then immediately calm down when they see there’s nothing "scary" under my socks. As much as I love How To Train Your Dragon, it’s very guilty of this. Hiccup looses his leg at the end of the first movie, and wakes up with his prosthetic already attached. The Netflix series has a few instances where he has his prosthetic off, but the camera almost always avoids showing it until he can cover it up again, or is super zoomed-out so you wouldn’t be able to “see anything”. To their credit, they do get better with this in the last movie (though it's still always covered), but for the majority of the series, they are very reluctant to have any shots where hiccup’s leg is in view without the prosthetic (unless they’re very far away).

[ID: a screenshot of Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon 3, a white man with short brown hair, and one leg missing, wearing armour made of black dragon scales and no prosthetic. He is holding onto toothless's head, a black dragon. /End ID]

Ironically, Eda does (permanently) loose an arm at the end of season 2, but I don’t really have much to say about her as amputee representation on that front, since she’s absent for a lot of Season 3, and when we do see her again, everything is so hectic, the story doesn’t really have any time to focus on her missing limb (which is reasonable). I will say, I do appreciate that they kept the amputation when she's in her owl-beast form in the finale, but there's honestly not much more to say about it. We do see her again in the epilogue after she’s had some time to settle into the amputation, wearing a hook prosthetic, but it’s, once again, too quick to really say anything from a representation standpoint. There's a few little nit-picky things I could bring up, like the fact they seemed to change the type on amputation she had (when she looses it, we see the split was very close to the elbow, but in the epilogue she has most of her forearm again) but those read to me more like animation mistakes or an odd prosthetic/clothing designs rather than a representation issue - and as someone who's worked in animation, given the stress the team was under for the finale, I'm not really worried about it. Like I said, it's more nit-picky than anything.

[ID: A screenshot of Eda, her hair tied back and wearing a red robe and a hook for her right hand. /End ID]

Despite all that though, I still think Eda is still good amputee representation, but mostly because of how they depict her curse’s side effects rather than her actual amputation. She’s honestly one of the only characters that I think you could refer to as “amputee coded” (outside of maybe Teen Titan’s Cyborg), and I genuinely wish more creators would treat their actual amputee characters the same way the Owl House treats Eda in that regard.

[elronds-meleth-nin]

Healing Hands

This is just a short little fic, based on this post here. The tall, broad High-King demanded a drabble aside from the ones I'd already started about him, so what else could I do? He is the High King, after all. 🥰👑

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Gil-Galad (RoP) x Half-Elven!Reader

[A/N: This is just fluff.]

Warnings: Spoilers for RoP s2e8, non-graphic descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, soft!Gil-Galad, affectionate teasing, romantic tension, healing injuries, Gil speaking Quenya, battle aftermath, minor angst with a happy ending.

~*~

Did she truly think she was being subtle with such a limp in her step? The High King and his Herald had led their soldiers and the survivors of Eregion into a valley, establishing around it a protective, magical barrier using the rings of power.

Together, the pair had healed Lady Galadriel, but as they settled her in a soft, flat spot to recover, Gil-Galad saw his lady, clad in her own black-splattered armor, attempting to limp away unnoticed.

"Go. I'll stay with Galadriel," Elrond volunteered quietly, and with a grateful nod of acknowledgement, the King hurried through the trees after her. He hadn't even remembered seeing her struck, but obviously she had been if she was limping.

She didn't get very far. At the edge of a small clearing, he found her sitting with her back against a tree, struggling to remain conscious. His breath caught when he saw how pale she'd become. She'd clearly been hiding this for quite some time.

Without a thought beyond healing his lady, Gil-Galad dropped to his knees beside her and began slicing a window into the leg of her trousers. The cloth parted easily at the behest of his dagger, and at the waft of cool air over her skin, her eyes fluttered open.

"Ereinion?" Her voice was so shaky and quiet. "I'm sorry. Didn't...want to bother you..."

"Hush, I am here, now," he murmured as he beheld the broken-off shaft of an arrow embedded in her leg. She'd lost quite a bit of blood if the dark, drenched fabric of her trousers was any indication. Thankfully, the arrow was not lodged too deeply, and she'd left enough of it exposed for a healer to grip in order to remove it. "Fool of a girl, you should have come straight to me."

She let out a weak laugh at his affectionate scolding.

"Calling your favorite patient a fool? Ondórëa ingaranya," she murmured cupping his cheek and drawing his eyes to her own. There was no real acidity in her tone. Gil-Galad took courage in the fact that she still had enough clarity of mind to tease him. He had, in fact, healed her before, but the injuries were always insignificant and superficial. And, she'd never actively hidden them from him before.

What cause had he given her to do so? Had she been embarrassed?

Without hesitation, he turned his head just far enough to kiss her palm.

"I humbly beg your forgiveness, meldanya." He hoped that she knew he referred to more than his playful jab. He also knew that to call her such, to allow such a slip, would be tantamount to a confession for which he was not certain that he was prepared. But, to call her anything less than his beloved would be a lie. Furthermore, to do so in the aftermath of such rampant death and destruction would summon within his heart guilt in such quantities that he could not abide.

Turning his attention back to her leg, he laid his palm as lightly as he could over her thigh. He whispered in Quenya, allowing the magic from his ring and from his own healing abilities to seep into her skin and numb her pain. Working quickly, he removed the arrowhead and pressed his hand over the wound, murmuring some of the same healing spells he and Elrond had used on Galadriel.

Fortunately, though, this was not a cursed wound as the former had sustained from Morgoth's crown, nor was it as severe. Her skin glowed readily beneath his touch. Within moments, the skin bound itself shut and his lady shuddered in relief as a trickle of light penetrated the canopy of trees overhead to mingle with their own.

Her hand had fallen limply away after mere moments, but Gil-Galad retrieved it once his work was complete, grasping it gently between his own blood-stained fingers. Her pulse beat steady and strong in his grasp, and his eyelids fluttered shut as he breathed a sigh of relief. She would be alright. She had survived.

"Did you mean it?" She breathed, and he was so surprised that she was conscious that his eyes snapped immediately to hers. Despite the dirt and grime coating them both, he felt entirely exposed beneath her gaze - vulnerable and transparent before her.

He relished the sensation of being known so completely. To everyone else, he was Gil-Galad, the High King of Lindon, the bastion of strength from which his people drew their courage when darkness threatened.

To her, he was simply Ereinion. The feeling was more pleasant and intoxicating than he could possibly express.

"You called me your beloved," she continued. "Did you mean it?"

How could he deny it? He loved her. He had for centuries. Since the moment she set foot in Lindon nearly three hundred years before, Gil-Galad had surrendered to the realization that his heart would settle for no other. Her light was beyond compare, shining into even the most uncertain parts of his heart which he hid from all others. She drew him out so easily, comforted him simply by smiling in his direction. She was his strength, his courage, his most luxuriant pleasure and joy.

But, he was a king. Because she knew him, she also knew better than any other how taxing his position was. Over time, he'd convinced himself that she would not wish to bear the burden of ruling by his side, so he'd remained silent - reluctant to steal her own contentment and joy by forcing the responsibilities of a ruler upon her. She deserved to have a life unburdened by the weight of a crown.

In his secrecy, however, his heart had grown accustomed to a more profound loneliness than he'd ever previously known. On too-silent nights in his chambers, he longed to hold her close and whisper poetry in her ear - he'd composed more verses in her honor than he'd expected his heart to harbor. On tranquil mornings before the rush of the day's duties began, he ached with the need to see her curled peacefully in his arms as the light of the sunrise spilled in through the windows.

No longer. After today's battle, Ereinion could no more hold his tongue than the pair of robins who sang so freely in his gardens each morning.

"Yes. With all of my foolish heart, I meant it," he admitted, his heart singing with every word, and she lifted her free hand, threading it lightly into his hair. The King savored the feeling. Never before had she touched him so brazenly - he'd made it clear that she was more than welcome to, of course, but she never availed herself of such liberties.

He bent lower, hoping to encourage her by making his person easier to reach. He felt her bare wrist brush against the tip of his ear - sharper than her own, thanks to her half-mortal parentage - but he could not hide his blush nor the light groan she tugged from his chest.

"You have tempted me...enchanted me since our first meeting. I have eyes only for you, but if you do not feel the same, I swear on my honor that I will not torment you further." The King's oath came from the most sincere depths of his heart. For her, he would. Much as it would pain him, if she wanted nothing to do with his feelings, he would bury them deep so that only he would feel the ache. She would suffer no discomfort at his hands.

Her lips met his, stopping his spiraling thoughts in their tracks, and all his worries fell away beneath the most delicious relief. They were as soft and sumptuous as they looked - as he'd imagined them to be - and Ereinion didn't hesitate to return her affection. He may have healed her leg, but with that once simple act, she had healed the King's heart.

~*~*~

Elvish Words (Quenya):

ondórëa ingaranya = my hard-hearted/pitiless high-king

meldanya = my beloved

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @gandalfthepimp @horta-in-charge

[vintagerpg]

I13: Adventure Pack I (1987) is part of a larger trend for TSR in the late ’80s, moving from the module format to a perfect bound book. Most collected older material, but this is one of a handful (Castle Greyhawk, Tales of the Outer Planes, Mists of Krynn, etc) that presented an anthology of new material. True to the RPG Curse, though, there never emerged an Adventure Pack II.

The most interesting facet of this book is how the scenarios are grouped, which is by theme: Deceiving Appearances, Intrigue, Mystery, Good Guys & Bad Guys and Competition. Right off the bat, you can get a sense of what you’re getting yourself into. Bizarrely, though they are grouped thematically in the table of contents, they are not sequenced that way in the book — the last scenario in the TOC is the first to appear in the book? That is the weirdest choice.

Anyway. The mix is a little odd. Ray Winninger’s scenario is basically the D&D Olympics. Warren Spector contributes an investigation into a mysterious circus that employs the old “magically remove the players’ powers” gag that everyone always loves. Players can cross paths with a druid who has a Poison Ivy/Black Orchid complex. Steve Perrin’s entry pits players against an assassin’s guild comprised of former adventurers like themselves (I like this one). There’s some bandits to kill, a pair of quarrelsome sisters to help, a scavenger hunt to…hunt? There’s one with a zoo and more clowns. There are so many clowns in this book!

The two best are by Allen Varney and Jennell Jaquays. The former delivers a gross-out shorty centering on keeping a chef supplied with the very special steaks his clientèle is clamoring for (there are options, including unicorns and gold dragons, but the real choice is purple worms, ugh!). Jaquays takes to the skies, which I am not a huge fan of, but delivers a fun jam with a floating castle and some perytons. There is a pretty big gap in quality between these two and the others, but honestly, everything in the book is serviceable enough with a little elbow grease on the DM’s part.

Cover by Easley, whose horses here are strangely hypnotic, like a Muybridge reel. Jeff Butler and Valerie Valusek keep things nicely grounded inside.

[swordy-da-goat]

(last ask for a while bc I feel like I'm nagging you sorryy)

I thought road wiz was like an scp, and now we have hazard monster.

Anyway I wonder how either of them would react to being treated like scps? Hazard would be a keter for sure.

Also if you made a road wiz plush I'd 100% buy it I love him sm

got carried away my bad

The Road Wiz

Item# : SCP-████

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Contained within a Standard Secure Humanoid Containment Cell in ██████, Sector-██ at Site-██. SCP-████ will often teleport out of their containment cell for an unprecedented amount of time before teleporting back. They are allowed to freely walk around the foundation as their skills and “magic” are very useful in securing anomalies, reducing injuries and casualties, and dealing with containment breaches.

Description: A humanoid entity (hard to distinguish if SCP-████ is a human or some other entity due to their hat and scarf obscuring facial view. Request to remove hat was met with opposition) wearing a hat resembling an orange traffic cone with one big and small white, reflective stripes, an orange safety vest with a long cloak attached from the backend, a yellow and black safety coverall, and long black leather and rubber gloves and boots.

SCP-████ is also in possession of a long black staff with a ring on the tip of unknown material. This staff is able to produced anomalous properties which can be better described as “magic.” Their “magic” seems to be a parody of signs, spells being correlated by the top of their staff in a hologram visual. One example being the staff projecting a deer sign when generating a glowing holographic version with mass of any of the Cervidae family.

Addendum 1: Discovery

SCP-████ was first captured near American state highway ██. The foundation was alerted when nearby police claimed that quote, “a portal just f█cking opened in the middle of the lobby where then a weirdly dressed guy wearing a cone on their head kicked a guy through saying to arrest him for drunk driving.” All personnel in the police station were given Class A amnestics. Foundation personnel were then deployed to the last place SCP-████ was spotted. Foundation were able to find SCP-████ feeding some stray dogs under American state highway ██. SCP-████ willingly agreed to come with the foundation for questioning.

Addendum 2: Interview

The following interview was conducted by Dr. Richards

Dr. Richards: Good afternoon SCP-████, I hope you’re feeling comfortable right now.

SCP-████: No, no, I’m fine thank you. Though I would prefer if you addressed me by “Road Wizard” or just “Wiz.” SCP-████ sounds a bit degrading.

Dr. Richards: …Noted. Anyways the foundation would like to ask you questions regarding your… job.

SCP-████: My job! Well you see Dr., as my name suggests, I am a wizard. My job is simply to keep everyone safe and responsible. The world is a very dangerous place, you SCP foundation folks would know that better than anyone about that fact!

Dr. Richards: You know of the SCP foundation?

SCP-████: Of course I do! Very big fan of your work! Trying to keep everyone safe from all these dangerous anomalies. Kudos to you guys, kudos!

Dr. Richards: Uh, thank you? Anyways, can you detail how you usually preform your job, or keep people “safe?”

SCP-████: Uh… I guess lecturing people on the rules and importance of road rules, filling up potholes, sticking reflective poles near edges, stuff like that. Pretty mundane huh?

Dr. Richards: What about your staff? What do you use that for?

SCP-████: Oh my staff! Well, I use it to channel my magic for the more dangerous part of my job. Magic can be real dandy in a rock slide.

Dr. Richards: I see.

Room is silent as Dr. Richard pauses to write notes.

Dr. Richards: *coughs* Um, SCP- sorry, Road Wizard. If you don’t mind me asking, I know you dub yourself as the “Road Wizard,” but is that the only safety concern you have? Or are there others like you that specialize in other hazards?

SCP-████: Funny you should ask that Dr., my real name’s actually the Safety Wizard. I just go with road because America has a crap ton of cars you know? And no, there's no one else like me so far that I know of.

Dr. Richards: So do you specialize in anything else then?

SCP-████: Sure I do! Let me just-

SCP-████ then manifests their staff from their hand which starts to emit a blue glow. A train sign then projects at the tip.

SCP-████’s outfit then suddenly shifts into a mock version of a steam engine engineer of their outfit, complete with a cap, denim overalls, vest-cloak and a yellow and black striped bandana.

SCP-████: Trains! Guess you could say I’ve become the “Rail Wizard!”

Silence.

SCP-████: Haha, sorry. There are other specialities too, but it’d probably take a while to show you all of them.

Dr. Richards: So are you able to switch forms like that?

SCP-████: That’s right miss! It’s very important to be dressed proper for any job!

SCP-████’s staff projects a car sign and outfit returns to previous description.

SCP-████: So any other questions for me Dr.? I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to be going soon.

Dr. Richards: SCP- I mean Road Wizard, you are aware that we can’t just let you go out.

SCP-████: I understand your concerns Dr., seeing what kind of place you guys run. But believe me, I’m not a dangerous guy! And it’s not like you folks can keep me in here anyways.

Dr. Richards: What do you mean by that?

SCP-████: Oh nothing. Anyways, it was nice chatting with you Dr. Richards, but I really must be on my way. See you later!

Dr. Richards: Hey, wait!

*SCP-████’s staff projects a Two Way Traffic sign and a glowing, yellow portal appeared to the right of SCP-████. SCP-████ then enters through the portal which disappears.

[END LOG]

——————————————————————————————————

The Hazard Monster

Item# : SCP-█████

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-█████ should be contained within a 5 m x 5 m x 5 m chamber of reinforced concrete. Door and windows should be tightly sealed to prevent SCP-█████ from escaping through any cracks.

Description: SCP-█████ is an amorphous, black blob which can change its mass, texture, shape, and composition through anomalous means. SCP-█████’s face appears to be an NFPA 704 Diamond symbol. Each section of diamond can open up to reveal a set of teeth or eyes (amount varies). SCP-█████ normally uses its anomalous abilities to inflict injuries on people. The relationship between SCP-████, or as they dubbed themself, the Road Wizard, is very negative.

Addendum 1: Discovery

Foundation was first alerted of SCP-█████ when reports of multiple incidents were reported by the people in the town of █████████. Residents were reported being injured by a black shapeshifting blob. Foundation, with the help of the Road Wizard, were able to track down SCP-██████ and capture it. All town residents were given Class A amnestics.

[shadowed-dancer]

Theory on Capitano's Face

So y'know how Capitano's helmet doesn't have a visor and we can see his profile?

I've always been curious how his face is so... not visible. Like even if it's shadows, it shouldn't obscure his face to that extent, right?

I think the 5.2 interlude may have given us a hint (no real spoilers but if you want to be surprised, play the quest first)

Right when he goes to remove it, this black smoke begins to pour from his face. It seems to be "pulled" along as he lowers the mask to his side.

It makes me wonder if there's some sort of magic at play that's basically coating his face in black "smoke" while the helmet is on. If that's the case, it's possible that the nose and lips we see are formed by this smoke and that his face is actually in way worse shape than we think.

(Even if he does have a nose and lips, it doesn't take away from the fact that this smoke is probably what's blacking out his face)

[maxdibert]

Agree with your last post. I'm so annoyed by people putting Pandora with Regulus, Barty and Evan or Dorcas with the Slytherin gang or idk what else. Like Pandora was Luna's mother, why are they making her to be friends with canon death eaters? Dorcas was killed by Voldemort personally, why are they making her to be so young? Idk it's making me sad that people don't even try to respect the canon story and its characters and expand upon that. Instead they completely butcher it. I understand having fun but these headcanons have completely overshadowed the correct information we have and people now pretend like they have some canon merit.

Pandora is Luna's mother, and that's all we know about her. At what point does she magically end up being the same age as the Marauders? Why turn her into a Rosier? Where did the ridiculous idea come from that she was best friends with Barty Crouch Jr.? Like, hello? She's not Luna's mother; she's just an OC someone made up to fit their narrative, and they justify her existence by saying she’ll eventually become that Pandora. End of story. Like everything they write and do. Their Marauders aren't the real Marauders. That's not James; it's some random guy they invented and slapped his name on, and the same goes for the rest of them. What even is a Dorcas Meadowes? Is that something you can eat? And what's a Marlene McKinnon? Nobody cares—they're not real characters. We don’t care about them, especially if you only include them to hit a lesbian target audience or so the stories aren’t overwhelmingly male-centered and ridiculously problematic because the female presence and relevance don’t even hit the minimum gender quotas from two decades ago, like…

They say "fuck canon," but only to have an excuse to whitewash psychopaths and portray them as twink icons. It makes no sense. I insist: they could create their own lore within the Harry Potter universe. Take all those OCs, remove the canon names of characters they have nothing in common with, give them original and unique names, and create a new category on AO3 for the lore you've created. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, and it’s totally valid. And stop setting the stories in the '70s because all those OCs with canon names act like Gen Z kids—or even Gen Alphas—living in pre-Thatcher Britain, like, what the hell?

The best thing about the First Wizarding War universe years ago was that the CANON was unexplored, and you could create fascinating things. But always based on the CANON. Because no, “fuck canon” doesn’t work, because if you say “fuck canon,” then you're just talking about characters you don’t like. You say you’re a fan of Sirius Black, but you’re not a fan of Sirius Black. You’re a fan of an original fanfic character with traits that have nothing to do with Sirius Black, but you slapped his name on it—why? Sirius Black was the tallest, most handsome, and most masculine and violent of the Marauders in canon. He wasn’t a girly, whiny twink. Rowling spends the ENTIRE saga CONSTANTLY emphasizing how masculine, how macho, how handsome, how masculine, how handsome, and (again) how masculine Sirius Black was. Over and over. The only other character Rowling insists so much on describing physically is Snape, but only to constantly point out how ugly he is and ironically assign him FEMININE traits. Snape, who is canonically unattractive but also canonically not masculine by patriarchal standards, is someone super macho types like Sirius mocked precisely for that.

I think the problem with this fandom is that they want to be the protagonists, the cool kids, the main characters everyone admires. But the reality of the canon is that both the Marauders and the pure-blood Slytherins of the era would have hated, mocked, and marginalized people with the characteristics fans assign to these characters in fandom. That Sirius the fandom adores wouldn’t have lasted half an hour with the real teenage Sirius Black, who would have bullied him immediately for being “weird.” The fandom’s James would have been ridiculed by canon James, who would’ve seen him as a total loser. Fandom Barty? Canon Barty would’ve Crucio’d him to bits. Canon Regulus would’ve paid someone to drown fandom Regulus. And yes, that Severus fandom invented—a sort of rapist or something—would’ve disgusted canon Severus, who didn’t even dare say anything to Lily. But honestly, who’s that fandom Lily? Because canon Lily didn’t know what feminism was and was dying to have a traditional family before 20 with a rich guy who could give her financial stability. Like, seriously, xD.

I’m sorry, but your OCs wouldn’t last half an hour in '70s Hogwarts because both sides would tear them to pieces. And in the end, all the “fuck canon” rhetoric is just a way to deny that they need to project themselves as protagonists, but they know they never would be in the Marauders’ lore because, in that context, they’d end up as bad or worse than Snape. And that’s precisely why they hate Snape so much—because that character constantly reminds them that, in fact, the Marauders were bullies. And they were bullies to those who didn’t have the looks, social class, appearance, or clothes deemed acceptable. Snape is actually the closest thing to themselves that fans of the Marauders will ever find, and that reminds them that in that universe, they would’ve been the nerds, losers, and outcasts of the class.

I’m sorry for being so harsh, but it’s true. They’ve invented characters in their own image, slapped canon names on them to feel important and central, but the reality is that the actual canon characters would’ve bullied them so much they’d have ended up the same or worse than Snape.

[howtoexloveback]

How Actually Does The Black Magic Work

Indeed, we all know that black magic is an ancient science, which has a great history in the past. According to the experts, the black magic is a supernatural power that has a strong mention in many kinds of literature and religions. At the present moment, most of the people trust the black magic due to its powerful effects to destroy someone who you do not like at all. In addition, you can use…

[madefortherain]

february fic recs ⋆ ༘⁀➷

the end of february means it’s, once again, time to shout about my favourite reads of the month! (same as last month, tagging authors i know the blogs of, but feel free to lmk if you want anything changed/removed) <3

multichapter:

Astronomia Nova by sreka (@smodernlife) - T, 35k. sirius raising harry, meets beautiful librarian remus and subsequently ruins a priceless book (meet-ugly everybody cheer!!). absolutely adored this!!

Be My Baby by pixelated (prettyremus) - M, 21k. dirty dancing au!! enough said just with that, really, but also the way queer themes are woven into the original story is so cool!

The Proctor House by @eyra - M, 5.2k, MCD. i honestly think it’s best to go into this one fairly blind. just let the beautiful writing take you where it wants to, it’s so so worth it. this one has stayed with me since i read it.

you don’t have to be alone (when you’re the place i wanna go) by @quiethauntings - E, 37k. remus reunites with his friends on a trip to the scottish highlands. nostalgia bottled into a fic! a very lovely depiction of loneliness and rekindling friendships. really beautiful!

Of Prefects, Pretence, and Precedent by Whoops_E - M, 121k. shouting this one out again because it’s now complete!!! i’m immediately diving in for a full reread. i go insane for this fic and specifically think about the grape jam chapter approximately 30 times a week.

oneshots:

nightlights by sadgeminimoon - T, 9.2k. single parent remus raising teddy, & sirius who helps out far too well. the pining!! adored this. i, too, would lose it if i came home to find sirius black doing a load of my laundry.

The Best By Far Is You by orphan_account - T, 13k. padfoot and moony are tumblr mutuals, while blind remus hires sirius as a reader for his classes. i believe this one is fairly well-known, but i only just got to it and it’s so so wonderful! there are also 7 more shorter oneshots (ratings vary) following this, all of which i subsequently inhaled. really recommend the entire Tumblr Trash series! (E, 35k total)

Perfect by wanderingdonut - T, 3.7k. ace4ace wolfstar learning to love each other :’) such a wonderful acespec story, i adored this <3

A Cup of Sugar by MsAlexWP (@languagelessonswolfstar) - T, 5.3k. harry pov feat. disabled harry and disabled remus (bonding!!). so sweet, such great disability rep, and adorable little peeks of wolfstar! loooved this!!

WIPs:

Let me Believe (Ever After) by @brigid-faye - M, 6/12, 47k. ever after: a cinderella story (1998) au! sad-eyed prince remus, riches to rags sirius. such great characterisations, relationships, and storytelling. i devoured these chapters so quickly!

Brave Face by @zoemillinwrites - M, 28/?, 252k, MCD. a canon-divergent, sirius-centric fic starting in hogwarts first year. such real and raw characters, being a little in love with your friends, and some of the cleverest, most unique magic explanations i’ve ever read. seriously, can’t emphasise enough how SO insanely cool the magic is!! (also shouting out the accompanying Story Shards WIP (E, 1/?, 4.3k) for some brilliant extra character studies!)

four thousand holes by aeridi0nis (@steelycunt) - E, 2/5, 41k. pride (2014) au. lesbians and gays support the miners; sirius is part of the organisation, remus is the son of a miner. truly so so obsessed with this premise. and the writing!! incredible, incredible prose.

As You Walk On By (Will You Call My Name?) by @imsiriuslyreading - M, 6/15, 23k, jily!!!! royalty au AND university au in one! royal james and eat-the-rich lily, creating such a fun jily dynamic. + a lovely dose of background wolfstar, too :)

[rue-with-the-tarot]

The Akashic Records aren’t real.

This one might definitely get me into some trouble, but I think it’s time we be mature about this. The Akashic Records stem from the cult of Theosophical theology, which has its roots in the early 20th century among some of the most deplorable people the spiritualist community had to offer. It’s where we get the terms like “black and white” magic, it’s where we get magic spelled like “magick” for no good reason, and was home to the likes of Aleister Crowley. These people were incredibly racist, groomed children, and were a literal cult.

If that wasn’t enough of a yikes for you, the fact of the matter is, is that I have never seen cohesive information about the Records. I looked, years and years ago. Because of course I did. Everyone was talking about it back then. Some sources would say that you had to get permission from this angel, and this guardian. Some said you had to have a special key to get in. Some said you needed to enter a special state of being to gain access (whatever that meant). Many people on the internet disregarded all that and said that it was freely accessible to anyone. All that inconsistency is questionable as is, but consider this:

If the Akashic Records were real, and held all the information of the universe that had been, is, and will be, why didn’t anyone use it for more than just past life stuff or whatever folks were doing? If I had access to that kind of information, I would spend a crazy amount of time there. I would gather as much information as I could. Study hard and apply it to every inch of my life. I could see how each route of my life would play out and I would choose the best one. I would manipulate things to work out in my favor. With that kind of information, all spellwork, divination, divine relationships, etc. would become OBSOLETE. Why bother using divination if I can just look in the records for what I need? Why make petitions to the gods when I know how to make it work myself? Why would I even need witchcraft to make things work in my favor when I just know how to make it happen anyway? It would take away all meaning of life, all purpose and drive would be lost, the inherent power of uncertainty that is intrinsic in nature would be removed. The very concept of the Akashic Records goes against nature.

[restless-mama]

Sing my name, my Angel.

AngelOC x Redacted. Inspired by 14 Days with you visual novel. Encouraged by a good few members of the discord server to write this. We talked about what if MC guessed Redacted's real name. MC is my Angel OC. Her/she pronounces are used. Anastasia belong to me and Ren/Redacted belongs to cutiesai @14dayswithyou. Minors DNI!

Oh how did she end up in such a predicament? Her pink sweater along with white skirt were ripped apart and discarded on the side of her bed. Her favorite lingerie set almost torn to shreds when Redacted removed them off roughly. She was left lying there, naked, only in her knee-high socks. Bite marks and bluish blackish bruises of hickies littered all over her delicate warm skin of her neck and shoulders. Yet, those were the only places that were tainted by him. They trailed down to her perky breasts. Some were even on her hips. 

A moan escaped her puffy lips which were slightly swollen from the rough kiss from earlier. A low chuckle could be heard down between Anastasia's spread legs as Redacted bites onto her right thigh. He pulls back slightly to admire the bite mark. His pierced lips pull upward into a devilish grin as he stares at his masterpiece. Anastasia suddenly feels his warm tongue and tongue piercing against the mark he made. A sharp inhale could be heard as he sucks hard against the tender flesh.  

“Fuck... Angel... You sound so fucking good...” The dark-haired man said lowly and huskily against her thigh. He pulls back slightly only to brush his pierced lips against her pussy lips. His cold fingers spread her lips apart. Sudden his tongue darts out and laps her cunt up to her sensitive clit. Anatasia could feel his wet tongue and piercing strokes her bud. The young librarian tosses her head back as her back arches. She wiggled her ass slightly until Redacted place his large hand on her hips, holding her in place with a firm grip. 

His cool thick fingers then ghost into her wet core, stroking her sensitive tight walls. A cry of pleasure could be heard from his girlfriend from above. Redacted’s tongue flicks frantically against her clit as he fingers stroke her g-spot. His teeth glazed slightly against her sensitive flesh.  

“Oh my God!” Anatasia whines out and continues to moan in her sweet voice. Her body shudders. The sounds she made were music to his ears. His hard cock twitches as precum leaks from the tip. The hacker smirks as he feels her muscle walls clenching tightly against his fingers. Her warm fluids start to drip down his digits as he works his magic against her sensitive spot. 

“Yeah... that’s right, babe. I’m your God now...” Redacted growls against her pussy. His lips wrap around her swollen clit and sucks hard, occasionally rolling his piercing against it. “I’m the only one that can make you feels this way...” 

Anatasia’s hand slips down and grabs a handful of her boyfriend’s black and pink hair, slightly pushing his head down. She desperately attempts to roll her against his fingers and mouth, despite his firm hold on her. Her green eyes look down at him only to meet the intense gaze of his beautiful blue eyes. Her face flushes in embarrassment but she couldn’t tear her own eyes away from his. 

“I’m going to cum! Please...!” She whined and begged, “Make me cum! Ahhh!”  

Her walls tighten hard around his fingers, gripping them like a vise as she cums. Warm fluids drip down his thick fingers, gathering on his palm and leaking down his forearm. Reacted continues to stroke his fingers against her g-spot as he suckles against her clit, prolonging her orgasm. Suddenly, Anatasia whimpers out his name. His real name. His blue eyes widen. Before he questions her, he lowers his mouth to his palm and laps up her sticky fluids, savoring her taste. He gently pulls his fingers out of her and sucks her essence off them. 

“How...?” Redacted asks her as he raises up and sits on his knees, towering over the petite woman. Anatasia pants to catch her breath but raised her eyebrow at him. Then she realizes she called him by his real name when she came. The name she so desperately wanted to know. The name she secretly went behind his back to find out. 

“I...” The brunette start to say, trying to explain herself. Her boyfriend then grabs her chin, leans down, and presses his lips roughly against hers. She parts her lips, allowing his tongue in as they kissed passionately. Her own taste still lingered on his tongue. As they kissed, his large hands spread her legs apart and then buries his large, pierced member into her in tight, wet cunt. A cry of pleasure from Anatasia was muffed by their kiss.  

Their kiss breaks and a string of saliva remains connected between their lips. Reacted wanted his name to come out from her lips and in her honeyed voice. He thrust inside hard roughly making his girlfriend cry out his name again. 

“Oh fuck.. Angel... Sing my name again!” Redacted groans as he begins to pound into her wet folds. Like a good girl, Anatasia obeys and cries out his name again and again like a prayer. It was a prayer him, to her God. He maintains his unrelenting pace, driving himself deep into her wet pussy with reach powerful stroke. His cock piercings rubbing against her sensitive walls driving her wild. Her wet juices flowed freely from her cunt and drips down his thick cock. 

“Just like that... Such a good girl... My good girl.” He growled. One of his hands then placed onto her shoulder while the other went to her hip, holding her body in place. Redacted begins to thrust into her in reckless abandonment, making her take every bit of him. Her walls tighten around him of how he referred her indicating that she enjoys his praising.  

“Oh fuck! Fuck!!!” Anatasia cries out along with his name. Her hands seek purchase and grab a hold of his back, dragging her pretty acrylic nails down his back. Redacted groans in pleasure as a surge shoot down his hard cock. He licks his lips as he sees the pleasure etched across her face.  

“Oh, shit I’m close! I’m going to cum!” The brunette whines and moans out as her body trembles in delight as she nears her orgasm. Reacted let’s go of her hips and moves his hand down her clit, strokes the sensitive bud. This earns another cry of his name that escapes out of Anatasia’s lips. She rolls her hips towards his hips as he thrusts into her, surpassingly meeting his merciless rhythm.  

“Ata girl...” Redacted growls under his breath while he rubs her clit as fucks her hard and fast. He drives himself deeper into her tight folds with each powerful thrust, “That’s it, Angel. Cum on my cock. Feel how much I own you...” 

Anatasia screams out his name in pure bliss as she cums. Her pussy convulses around Redacted’s cock. Her sticky fluids gushes around him and drips down his balls then onto the bed sheets. Her nails sink into the flesh on his back. The sensation of her gripping walls sends shivers down his spine. He fucks through her orgasm, seeking his own.  

Suddenly the hacker released a loud groan as he emptied his cum inside her swollen cunt, coating her insides with his semen, “Ahh fuck! Angel..!” 

The sounds of rapid breathing could be heard throughout the room as the two lovers attemp to catch their breath. Anatasia removes her hands off her boyfriend’s sweaty back and places one hand on his cheek. Redacted leans against her touch. She whispers his name softly. 

“I love you... Only you...” Anatasia reminds him. He could tell she meant every word by the tenderness and love in her green eyes. Redacted’s heart swells with emotion and places his hand on her hand. He brings it to his lips and kisses her palm. 

“I love you too, my Angel...” He slowly pulls out of her warm core and admires some of his cum leak out of her. His hands reach others to the nearby towel and wipe her clean before cleaning himself off. Anastasia couldn’t help but smile. She knew he always puts her before himself. Once Redacted was done, he tosses the towel aside and lays beside his Angel, pulling her into a loving embrace.  

“You remembered...” Redacted whispers as he buries his face into her neck. Anastasia smiles and strokes his hair. 

“It took me a while to remember since it's been so long ago, and my own trauma made me forget so much. I’m so sorry I forgot about you... I’m so sorry.” She apologizes, tearing up. Her boyfriend’s blue eyes widen and quickly brush her tears away. Redacted tightens his embrace around her, stroking her brown hair with his hand. “No, no. Angel. It’s okay... It’s not your fault... We’re together now. That’s all it matters.”  

[overcastedsays]

So it’s established that the only part of the mindflayer that’s actually robot is the black mechanical part, and that the real body is just for show, right? If the mindflayer exists only as the “head” part and is effectively puppeting a vessel, what if a mindflayer could control OTHER vessels. Maybe in order to survive in the harsh environment hell it has to puppet a more resilient and mobile body (after all, a head can’t do much on its own). Maybe when a mindflayer self-destructs, it only gets rid of the puppet body, leaving a chance or survival for the main head to find another host. Without a vessel to control, I imagine it’ll headcrab style latch itself onto another creature (husk, machine, or otherwise) and take over its body.

Husks would be relatively easy to take over due to their low mental fortitude, but as organic creatures they die fast and are pretty weak. The mindflayer would probably end up siphoning all of the blood out of it before they could fully incorporate themselves. Demons would be far more resilient, but would be more difficult to take over because they’d put up more of a fight (physical or mental). They’d be more difficult to pilot because they operate on hell magic. Perhaps the Mindflayers are so adept with hell magic because they had to learn how it worked to effectively control a demon host.

Other machines, however, would function a bit differently. The Mindflayers usually can’t fully override the original machine’s programming because that would destroy important drivers that are required to keep the machine functional. On the flip side, leaving the machine’s mind fully intact would result in almost immediately removal of the mindflayer from the host. Even a streetcleaner or a drone wouldn’t take kindly to having their body commandeered and probably has some sort of antivirus. Instead, the Mindflayers take on the role of a sort of symbiote; whether it be parasitic or mutualistic is up to them. Perhaps they provide support, extra processing power, or another pair of eyes to give them a leg up in combat. Perhaps they stay like this mutually until they can find or create a new body. Maybe they stay like this forever. Maybe they spend time becoming acquainted with the code of their host, plotting the best way to instate a full takeover without completely shutting them down. Maybe they have a Venom type situation. Maybe a large enough machine could have more than one mindflayer symbiote.

This also gives a much funner reading to the mindflayer’s chosen bodies. Not only are they made to fit the Mindflayer’s personal ideal and make them happy, but they’re probably an engineering marvel. It has to have an intact circulatory system to support blood flow, a “skeleton” so it can support the weight of its internals , and likely some sort of vessel for casting hell magic. Mindflayer’s aren’t just artists, but very intelligent inventors. Certainly makes sense why they would get so uppity about their bodies getting ruined, it probably takes a LOT of resources to build one. The Mindflayers might not be scrapheads nominally per se, but they probably spend a lot of time scavenging for parts to build these. Of course, they have to be more picky than Swordsmachines. Making a body that good requires quality equipment. Maybe the scrapheads think Mindflayers are stuck up. Maybe they think they’re the pinnacle of self invention, on par with THE Swordsmachine. Maybe some mindflayers are their own de facto sect scrapheads. Do they give each other advice like swordsmachines do? I love Mindflayers so much can you tell.

[cancerian-woman]

i hate when hope's stans say that Bonnie Is weak when Bonnie whole bloodline Is even the reason why almost everything on tvdu exist, what do you think?

The Bennetts are the backbone of this franchise but will never get real credit for it.

Hope benefits like most of the white witches from desirability and privilege. TO added into this as well by removing Ayana's importance towards the Mikaelson history. Esther did all of this work by herself and has the grand sister who comes with all this power. When that is not what we were shown in TVD. Legacies won't properly credit Bonnie for her work or skillset but can make negative jokes about her. While fueling of Bennett blood for spells because not even Hope Mikaelson can do specific requirements of a Bennett witch. They even brought in some unnamed Bennett witch to utilize once.

The Bennetts are an example of something black women and people face every day. You can have all the credentials and work--the Bennett's are involved in the world building, and magic basics but aren't even development or screentime and people will still flock to someone white who did not have to do much in order to have respect from everyone else.

Bonnie and her relatives are victims of racist writing but given their history are far from weak. Bonnie alone was 17 years old, as a self-taught witch mastering the power to bring a 1000-year-old hybrid to his knees successfully. The same Bonnie a season later saved everyone's asses even Klaus which is how he lived another day to get someone pregnant ANYWAY...Bonnie wasn't weak and never has been just not written with a real desire for her or her family. The real tea is that many fans don't see Bonnie's power as something to respect.

I'll leave you with this whenever someone makes comparisons about magic or witch abilities it is always Bonnie and or her bloodline being compared. You don't see Freya vs Davina covered as much or Hope vs Davina. Those fans see their power especially NOLA witches as respectable.

Hope has a werewolf queen mother in Hayley and she isn't even brought up in these never ending power debates lmfao.

[zaimta]

彡PAINTING HIS NAILS

parings: laxus, gajeel, bickslow, bacchus x gn!reader

zai's notes: rewatching fairy tail for the 100th time n i remembered bacchus he's so yea <3, n i'm getting back to requests after this one!!

˗ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

˗ˏˋLAXUS DREAYAR

the hardest to convince, you could ask him over and over but he never gives in, he only gives in because you "annoyed him" which obviously ain't true he's just whipped

doesn't even let you pick the color either, he just tosses you the black nail polish because he's aware it's a neutral color

killjoy!!

the two of you lounged on some couches on the upstairs area of the guild, his arm was around your shoulder as he talked to the thunder legion. while he talked to them your mind was elsewhere, you glanced at his hand. you remained silent while you stared at it you didn’t even notice how focused you were, you didn’t even notice the thunder legion going downstairs for a quick bite to eat.

you held his hand in yours as the two of you sat side by side on the upstairs level of the guild. you noticed how rough his knuckles looked from all the punches he would through, and small scars littering his hands. your gaze game down to his nails and you gazed down at your own painted nails and you got the best idea.

“you should let me paint your nails.”

with in a heartbeat he responded “no.”

you groaned “come on it’ll be fun and it’ll look cute!”

“no.”

“i think you should let me paint them, they’ll look so nice too! besides your hands could use some tlc” you looked down at his hands and rose a single brow, a manicure was clearly needed for him. even if you couldn’t do anything about the scars the nails would at least spruce them up a little.

“i’m good.” he rolled his eyes at you but made no effort to remove his hand from your grasp.

you stared at him and he sighed feeling your eyes on him “tell me why i should let you paint my nails?”

“because i’m your s/o and you love me and you would do anything for me” you flashed him a grin and he rose a single brow in return “pleaseee.”

he sighed finally giving in, he his free hand down his face knowing he was going to regret his decision “fine.”

you led him out of the guild abiding “knowing” glances from some guildmates. you walked back to your house and gladly led him into your bedroom where you were going to paint his nails. you walked over to him with your box of nail polish clearly excited

“we can try any color you want maybe we could-”

he cuts you off tossing the black nail polish at you, you catch it easily and sigh “you’re so boring, i was hoping we could do a blue or something.”

“the second it chips you’re removing it.”

"killjoy."

˗ˏˋGAJEEL REDFOX

another hardheaded one

tell him it’ll make him look likea rockstar and he’ll be willing to hear you out

he’ll only go for black you could talk him into grey to match his metal magic but only if it’s a dark grey

you sat across from where he sat in the guildhall leaning close to him with a grin “i just had the best idea ever, you should let me paint your nails.”

he looked at you annoyed “im still waiting on your ‘best idea ever’.”

you rolled his eyes used to his attitude by now “im serious it would be fun! plusss you’ll look like a rockstar, a real rockin' one with a stage presence.”

he rose a brow "what kind of rockstar wears nail polish?"

"a color-coordinated one. come on don't you wanna look nice for your next performance? if you don't like it we can take it off i promise." you silently begged with your eyes.

he sighed "fine if it gets you to stop your whining."

you cheered and grabbed his hand leading him to where you lived, he got comfortable in your bed while you rummaged around for some nail polish in your bathroom. you debated on shades of black and grey but you ultimately decided to bring all of them so he could have some options.

"okay so i have a few colors here which one are we feeling. maybe this one?" you held up a dark grey nail polish "or maybe this one?" you held up a light grey nail polish resembling the color of iron "or maybe-"

"well do this one" he cut you off and picked up the black nail polish

you took the black nail polish in your hand you couldn't complain much since the color would match his overall vibe, but you can't deny you were hoping to at least use some grey tones to match his iron.

"okay we can do black it'll look cute too." you take his hand in yours and smile at him, you focus intently on his nails. you knew the chances of him letting him do his nails again were low so you made sure to make his nails look perfect for the first and unfortunately the last time you'll be painting them.

he watched as you concentrated on his nails, you took great care in making sure you wouldn't mess up some nails it was honestly cute to him he couldn't help but snicker "you're really putting a lot of focus into some nails doll." he rested his free hand on his cheek and smirked at you.

"well duh, i have to make them look nice who knows when I'll be able to paint your nails again. if this is the first and last time i'm painting your nails they're gonna look cute ya know." you spoke while completely focusing on his nails.

he offered a hum as a response and let you finish working on his nails. once you finished his nails he gave you a kiss as payment.

a few days have passed by since you pained his nails, and once he saw them getting old he immediately walked over to your house and barged in "hey." he walked past you lounging on your couch, ignoring your confused expression, he walked into your bathroom then flopped down onto the couch next to you with nail polish removal and the black nail polish in his hands.

"they're gettin old wanna fix 'em up for me doll?"

˗ˏˋBICKSLOW

he’s down for it the second you suggest it

he mainly prefers colors that would match his whole theme any colors that he thinks would throw it off he won’t mess with em

he asks you to do it again once they start looking old he makes you redo them

the two of you were hanging out at your house, he’s at your house more than yours it was like he lived there at this point. you were lounging on your couch mindlessly talking about everything and anything. you looked down at his hands and a light bulb went off in your head

“you should let me paint your nails, we could make them match your babies too.”

he shrugged "okay let's do it."

you flashed him a smile and gently kissed his lips "I'm gonna get the nail polish i'll be right back." you padded off to your bathroom and went through your nail polish basket, you couldn't decide between purples, greens, and some oranges, although you felt like the orange was a stretch. you shrugged and brought him all the colors you walked back to the couch with various nail polish colors in your arms, and you dumped them on the couch in between the two of you.

"i couldn't decide on one color so i brought multiple! you can pick which one you want though."

he looked down at all the colors you bought and settled on a dark purple "this would match my helmet wouldn't it?" he grins and handed you the purple nail polish.

you took his hand in yours and took care in painting his nails, he watched as you painted his nails his great care "you're really focused there babe."

you snickered "well yeah i don't want your babies making fun of your nails because they're sloppy." he laughed along with you and leaned to gently kissed your forehead.

"i can't focus if you're kissing me bix" you smiled and spoke without taking your eyes off his nails.

he laughed and smiled at you "and what if i don't want you focused?" you looked up at him and sent him a playful glare "do you want your nails to look like a mess or do you want them to look nice?" he leaned in closer to you "whatever gets your attention onto me."

"so needy" you teased while giggling and gave him a soft kiss on the lips "i'm almost done with your nails then I'll be all yours."

˗ˏˋBACCHUS GROH

he was drunk and he was just talkin

he was the one who suggest you even painted his nails when he was playing with your hand and noticed your nail polish and randomly suggested it

he traced along your hands giving them great focus despite his drunken state "let's paint our nails to match it'll wild baby." you giggled at his state "are you sure you want me to paint your nails? you're pretty drunk right now i'd doubt you'd even remember this."

he laughed loudly "do y'a know who you're talking to baby? bein' drunk is my magic." he pulled you off to the stool you were sitting on at the bar and led you home, or he assumed he was the one leading he started wobbling within a few steps so you had to lead him instead.

once you made it to your house you lead him to your bedroom where he could sit on your bed so you could paint his nails "i feel like a nice purple would suit you." you spoke to him from the bathroom raising your voice slightly so he could hear you, he hummed a response.

you hopped onto your bed with the nail polish in hand and took his hand in yours "make em look nice baby i wanna show the guys how wild i am" he emphasized his guilds motto with a small yell and a grin on his face causing you to laugh "hold still so i can do em right."

he grinned at you "come on say it with me baby these nails are gonna be" you playfully rolled your eyes at him but spoke his guilds mantra in unison "wild!"

you laughed and brought your focus back to his nails, while you did his nails he spoke mindlessly. it was becoming obvious that he was just talking so he could stay awake all the drinks he had was catching up to him. once his nails dried he carefully laid down not wanting to ruin your handiwork.

he woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and newly painted nails, he slowly sat up groaning when he noticed you sleeping by his side he froze. you stirred in your sleep and slowly opened your eyes.

he leaned down to kiss your forehead "mornin' baby. did we paint my nails yesterday? i don't remember much after the bar." he squinted in thought "or was it before the bar..."

you giggled "yes i did paint your nails bacchus you asked me to do them."

he looked down at his nails and smirked "they're wild baby."