#and they will never stop trying to destroy her

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Don't mind me, just revisiting the plot (again) and dying over this line (again). (These screenshots are going to be abysmal, but you'll get the point).

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

Yeah he's talking about Mythal (earned or not) and Felassan and Lavellan and Varric...but the way it applies to HIM, too, is what absolutely guts me.

Long post ahead...

Solas realizing that Lavellan doesn't care about how others see him or want to use him under the inquisiton, that HIS motivations as he has shared them are enough for her and worth defending against those who would tell him he's something he isn't. Solas, for the first time, being confronted with the realization that one these new elves he does not see himself in will still go to bat for him.

"You came here to help, Solas, I won't let them use that against you."

(Is he duplicitous? Yes. But intent on working against Corypheus? Undoubtedly).

“How would you stop them?”

“However I had to.”

“...thank you.”

Solas grappling with the fact that it wasn't just a one off, that this Dalish woman being faced with "hypotheticals" he's desperately been trying to get her people to entertain is jumping in head first, pushing back and disagreeing with him but never treating him worse for their differences and always admitting when he's helped shape a changing perspective. Solas daring to ask for help and marveling at the fact that he receives it, that the same woman who asked if it might some day be possible to live alongside spirits, who did not immediately shoot down his critique of THE CHANTRY REFUSING TO ACKNOWLEDGE SPIRITS AS LEGITIMATE BEINGS (GAH), who did not laugh at him for saying he preferred their company most days, this woman, is going to drop time and resources during war time preparations to personally help his friend.

And then, when he is too late and has once again failed someone he considers a friend, he disappears within himself, where he has always gone to exact punishment for the weight of the lives he believes he's betrayed. It almost works, too.

Psych. Lavellan doesn't want him to grieve alone, to stare at the place in the Fade where his friend used to be and think of all he should have done differently.

“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone.”

“It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”

“I know.”

“I’ll work on it. And thank you.”

And still she unbalances him, accepts him, wants more. Solas is sharing a personality that brings him the closest he has ever been to his spirit form, and it is ENOUGH for her. Existing as he has always dreamt of is all takes to earn her loyalty, respect, and eventually love.

But does she stop there? No. She doesn't chafe at this random apostate who speaks with certainty and unapologetically delves into a past he believes worth preserving, even at the cost of questioning her culture as it currently stands.

The very woman he once thought of as a mistake that HE unleashed upon the world is asking to be a part of his, not because of what he can bring to the table, not because she needs a right hand man, and certainly not because she thinks he has some well of power and intelligence critical to winning over enemies she’s willing to join for "supervisory" purposes (cough cough hi Mythal). She bears the weight of choices that can and will lead to death, to pain, and when it wears on her she relies on him, not for solutions but so that at the end of it all she might smile with someone who knows her heart and the good she tried to do amidst a sea of terrible options. She wants to be known, no inch of her unturned, and worse, she thinks she knows him. But how could she? This is no longer who he is, it is merely the remnants of what he destroyed to make a world at Mythal's whim.

“You’re an admirable man. Not many people know who they are the way you do.”

“Thank you. Both for saying that and…for seeing that. Few in this world can see me instead of just seeing a pair of pointed ears”

She. Sees. Him. Every part he slowly is realizing he wants to be known for and even a few he thought he could hide. And then he gives it all up. Because he woke to a new world where spirits and elves and mages were so far removed from the role they played in Arlathan that it can only be yet another mistake he caused and must fix, never mind the fact that the dwarves have forgotten why they fled underground millennia ago in the first place.

The friend who tore him from the world he loved, urged him to take physical form? She is dead, too, never mind the fact that she ignored his urging for a different path, nevermind that he killed and tore and hurt in her name because otherwise what was losing the part of himself he loved for?

"A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”

“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.”

“You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned.”

He may no longer recognize where the Dread Wolf ends and where Solas begins, but if he gives up now and permits himself the chance to remember, the pain he caused himself and others means nothing, because he did it all for Mythal and in his final discussion with her, regardless of what Veilguard tries to convey, she does not release him from his position as her agent.

And maybe that's part of why I'm so angry, because EVEN BEFORE TRESPASSER, the fragment of Mythal that ends up in Morrigan could have freed him, but she does not.

"I am sorry." He whispers.

"The failure was mine," he tells her, voice trembling. "I should pay the price."

Silence.

And do we get that "what we did, we did together" psuedo-fake ass-absolution, the one that, if given enough time and safety to put himself first he may have realised he doesn't truly need to pursue the things he deserves, that make him feel finally like himself again? No the fuck we don't.

"As am I, old friend." She murmurs.

Looking through the lens of Veilguard, this isn't an apology, it's a condemnation. It's Mythal tormenting him one more time, twisting the knife deeper, agreeing that it is Solas alone who has brought them to this point, who deserves to be punished. And then she reminds him what they are to each other, what he is supposed to be to her. What he must become again.

"It isn't abuse if I ask," Cole says in his personal quest.

"Not always true," Solas shoots back.

So he recommits to the friend he gave up his nature for, he refuses to let himself remember that Lavellan learned the full truth of his identity and still begged him not to mourn alone. Even so, he still cannot quite forget.

Var lath vir suledin. Our love will persevere.

I wish it could, vhenan.

And so he pushes onwards, spending almost a decade denying himself his true nature and regretting that he ever gave it a chance to come through because now he KNOWS that this world is different and a little broken, but it's a world he could be a part of because of the woman and the friends that made a place for him. It is a world that doesn't necessarily need to be restored as much as it might need renovation, but that is not the world Mythal demanded of him when she let him kill a remaining piece of her. And any solution but that means the hurt of taking a body, of hurting the titans, of time and time again being called on by one evanuris to fix a problem they all caused, was for nothing.

And a Pride of that magnitude, that sinister an origin, has a long, long way to fall.

And then that same uppity little shit has the audacity to tell him it's not too late, that he can turn back.

He kills again. He kills again. He kills again.

He kills a friend.

He fails to prevent the Evanuris from wreaking havoc a second time, wrenches another innocent into his war, and when they ask him about the woman he calls vhenan, he feels the mask stifling him begin to suffocate. But he never lets it fall, because to surrender now is to place her broken heart atop the pile of regrets he's been holding up like Atlas crumbling beneath the weight of the world itself. Because he still thinks it selfish to want the things that make him feel like himself again, so they need to be taken off the board entirely.

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

If he gives up now, his entire corporeal life has been a betrayal of many, but worst of all, he will have ruined himself for nothing.

But then she's there. A little older, a little sadder, and still looking at him like she did the night he almost broke and instead carefully removed any suggestion that she had ever belonged to anyone but herself.

"Didn't you hear me?" Her every action screams as she kneels to meet his gaze like he did the day he took her arm (another failure, another sacrifice he cannot let be for nothing).

The tombstone in the fade is his greatest fear, but it is not his fate. Why? She will not let it be. It cannot be his din'anshiral if she is not beside him.

Lavellan may not have understood the depth of exactly WHEN Solas first came somewhere foreign and uncertain to help, but she never once failed to keep her promise. She refuses to let his initial desire to do good be held against him any longer. And when she sees him accept that not-quite-absolution-definitely-more-of-a-power-play from the god that saw what he was capable of and molded him into a weapon, she finds her in to make sure he doesn't walk off alone to mourn again, never again will she lose him to the expectations others have of him. No doubt she wants to find a way to sink the fingers of her good hand into that spectral visage and tear it away like he wishes to do to the veil. But she is not here for Mythal. She is here for her heart, and for the man who has been carrying it since the moment her lips met his in the fade ten years ago.

“No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

She forces him to see that the only remaining betrayal is to lock himself away one more irreversible time. All that's left to lose is the piece of himself he cherishes more than his greatest victories: all that he has to gain comes from making sure the love that was given to him at Skyhold, in the moment where Varric saw all he was capable of and still tried to bring him back home, was not given in vain.

"There is no fate but the love we share." She tells him as soon as Mythal's too-little-too-late platitudes send shudders through his body.

Banal nadas ar lath'ma vhenan.

It will not be so terrible a place, so unforgivable a betrayal if he can finally dare to put himself first. If, unlike that night in Crestwood, he finally gives in not to break, but to make himself whole.

There's a codex entry in Inquisiton about a spirit of wisdom who is summoned by researchers and only after a very pleasant conversation do they realize they made a mistake and never successfully bound the spirit in the first place, that it chose to speak with them of its own accord.

"I am not certain the spirit would have talked so freely had it been shackled at the time," writes the author of the entry.

I keep thinking about this alongside the datamined line of Morrigan saying, "And so, the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things love."

But that isn't quite right, is it?

Because in the end, of course the Dread Wolf could only ever freed by, over everything, love.

[victhespookygoat]

I hate it when non-Tolkien fans reblog posts with incorrect lore receipts.

There are no "tiers" of deities in LOTR lore. There is Eru (God), the Valar (demigods), Maiar (the helpers of the Valar, includes Sauron and Gandalf), and then there are ancient and powerful things which exist in the world and which have agendas of their own (like Ungoliant, and Tom Bombadil)

(Gandalf does not take the Ring because the Ring is suffused with all the power and malice of Sauron which corrupts all who use it, and he knows that his own power is too great to risk being corrupted - same reason Galadriel refuses the Ring)

Morgoth, also known as Melkor, is a fallen Valar, who rebelled against Eru in the beginning by singing in discord to the song of creation and thereby introducing evil into the world

Ungoliant is a demon sung into existence by Morgoth's discordant song. She's not a deity, and neither are her children

Morgoth has Ungoliant drink the nectar of the Two Trees in order to destroy their light so that he can have revenge on the other Valar and steal the Silmarils, a set of 3 gems that are infused with the light (and magic) of the Two Trees

He promised Ungoliant that she could have whatever treasures she wanted if she was still hungry after consuming the life of the Trees

Consuming the light of the Trees made Ungoliant HUGE and Morgoth nervous; he also lent her a portion of his own strength for the heist and was in a weakened state by the time they make their escape

They flee Valinor, the home of the Valar, and go to the far north of Beleriand, where Ungoliant decides she's still hungry and demands the Silmarils but since the Silmarils were the WHOLE REASON for the tree-killing heist, Morgoth refuses to give them to her

She gets pissed and wraps him in her web, he gets pissed and calls for his Balrogs; the Balrogs run her off into the deep dark places of the world where she proceeds to have a fuck load of offspring who would in turn become the mothers of all spiders in Middle Earth

(Shelob is her last surviving daughter)

After getting rid of Ungoliant, Morgoth (not Sauron) has the Silmarils set into his helmer because holding/touching the stones is physically painful to him (his hands are permanently burned black by them)

Sauron never possesses the Silmarils

By the time of the events of LOTR, Ungoliant has been dead and Morgoth has been locked away in the void for millennia, so there is zero chance that Sauron is afraid of Shelob telling on him and getting her mom to beat up his old boss.

Sauron tolerates Shelob because she is useful to him and he reckons that his energy is better spent trying to get back his magical WMD than chasing spiders out of his crawl space.

Sam knows literally none of this history or lore; all he knows is that that's a fuck-off huge spider who is trying to eat Mr. Frodo

Shelob does impale herself on Sting but honestly that was just luck on Sam's part and bad timing on Shelob's

Stop spreading Fake Lore.

Thinking of the larger context of LOTR and like, the fellowship swapping old war stories and shit and Sam just says “Yeah I killed a huge spider…Shelob, I think?”

And Gandalf just blinks and is like, “You what now?”

“Yeah, killed it. Had to save Frodo”

Gandalf elects not to tell Sam that he killed the spawn of a primordial demon.

[vaguely-concerned]

thinking about not only the specific people lucanis pulls in to represent the 'locks' in his psyche, but the storytelling that happens in the structure/order of them. the underlying ideas are presented something like:

the lucanis who went into the ossuary never came back out again; he died down there (the boy caterina raised is gone forever) -> you're putting yourself in danger doing this (by being close to me), you should leave because I can't bear it if you get hurt because of me -> it doesn't matter even if we do try this, it won't work anyway (again because of me) ('you know what he's like, you can open the door but he won't walk through it' :'( oofie doofie) -> what if the real secret is that there was never anything but the monster in here from the beginning. you should leave, there was never anything here worth saving in the first place. (implicitly: what if I deserved what happened, all along.)

it runs pretty cleanly from outward-oriented attachment anxiety ('caterina won't even want me back like this, she won't recognize me (the same way I no longer recognize myself)) and gradually deeper inwards until we reach self-image and self worth. or you know, the harrowing basic lack of it lol.

"careful -- they'll know we're not right," spite says in one of their first scenes... but clearly, some very deep part of lucanis has feared or suspected for much longer than that that there's something inherently not right at the core of him, way before any demon entered the picture. and the voice he gives those lines to is the person who should know him better than anyone in the world, who he has loved more than anyone in the world -- and who deliberately chose to hurt him so horrifically anyway. 'It's better if I'm just a monster and deserved what happened than it is to allow for the idea that the brother I love doesn't really exist and maybe never did'. it's better if he's fundamentally flawed in some way that needed fixing to help him survive, and that's why caterina chose to hurt him again and again -- out of love. (this one I think he might have a very sad wakeup call on one day if he ever ends up with the responsibility and care of a child of his own in some way and realizes just how alien the idea of ever intentionally hurting them for any reason is to him. oh buddy. also interesting that he keeps caterina as the outermost lock -- there IS a distance he keeps there that he hasn't with illario. he doesn't resent her 'anymore' he says, but he also keeps her carefully further away from his deepest self.)

as far as I could tell the only note in the mind prison that's fully hidden and needs to be uncovered is the sad painful helpless stupid little truth that even after all this, even knowing what happened... he still loves his brother. is there anything illario could ever do that would make lucanis completely stop loving him, do you think? sometimes the trouble with unconditional love is that it is, well. unconditional, even when some terms and conditions probably would have been in order haha.

that's the pattern you see there again and again; he would rather destroy and abandon and imprison himself at every turn than let go of love, even when it's just scraps, even when there's only ever enough of it to hurt him. it's only when rook shows up and as it were takes his hand and walks along with him that he can entertain the idea of changing the story of what walking out the door might mean in the end.

[sweemmy]

Darkness had never been a problem for Vi. She had grown up in it, embraced it as both a refuge and an ally in a world that gave her no quarter. But now, the darkness within her is different. It suffocates, ravenous—a beast that feeds on her deepest thoughts, on her obsession with you.

You are a glimmer in her shadowed world. At first, you seemed to bring a fragile light to her broken life. But that light didn’t heal her; it didn’t soothe. It was a spark that ignited everything she had left intact within herself. Vi knows this isn’t love in its purest form—love shouldn’t hurt like this. It shouldn’t burn through every fiber of her being. But what else can she call it when her entire existence revolves around you?

Sometimes, when she’s alone, her mind drifts back to the past. She sees herself as the girl she used to be—a girl with hope, with unyielding morals, with a sense of justice that brought meaning to her chaos. Those images feel so distant now, as though they belong to someone else. But they weren’t always this blurred. Vi remembers how she clung to that version of herself, struggling to reconcile her principles with the choices she made for you. Until one day, she stopped trying.

“Look at what I’ve become,” she thinks bitterly, staring at her hands, hardened by fights and scarred by the things she’s done in your name. Her knuckles, always marked, tell stories of the lines she’s crossed, of the faces she’s struck simply for coming too close to you.

The first time she stepped over the line, it was almost accidental—a punch thrown harder than it needed to be, a moment she couldn’t take back. But the effect was instant: a surge of power mixed with a dizzying rush that left her trembling. After that, it became easier, darker. Each decision pulled her further away from the Vi who once vowed to protect Zaun, the Vi who believed in something greater than herself.

But it’s not the actions that haunt her the most. It’s the constant thought, the unrelenting mantra she cannot silence: “I would let the world burn for you.” It plays in her mind like both a prayer and a curse. Because she would. Because she is. Every choice, every sacrifice, every boundary she’s destroyed has been for you, and she knows she’s losing herself in the process.

The darkness isn’t just in her mind—it follows her like a living shadow. The nights are the worst. When silence fills the room, the endless hum of her thoughts becomes unbearable. Every shadow on the wall seems to mock her helplessness, her lack of control. She dreams of a world without you, where she might find freedom again, but those dreams are fleeting and bitter. Because even in her fantasies, your absence feels like an abyss she cannot escape.

She watches you from a distance, trying to understand how someone like you can hold so much power over her. Sometimes, your words confuse her. “You don’t have to do this,” you say, but the smile on your lips betrays the truth. You enjoy being the center of her universe, though you’d never admit it. And Vi, caught in the web of her own obsession, can no longer tell if what she feels for you is love or self-destruction masquerading as something else.

Vi fights it sometimes. In rare moments of clarity, she tries to reason with herself, to remember who she was before you. But even those memories are fading, because everything that came before now feels insignificant. She wonders if her obsession began as love or if it was always this destructive force wearing the mask of something pure. But it doesn’t matter anymore. She doesn’t know how to let you go, how to tear you from her chest without bleeding out completely.

Every time she looks at you, she feels that toxic mix of devotion and despair. You are her salvation and her damnation, the anchor keeping her afloat and the chain dragging her down. And Vi, so proud, so stubborn, doesn’t know how to ask for help, how to admit that she’s losing this battle within herself. That her love for you isn’t saving her—it’s destroying her.

In her mind, the scenes replay: the faces of those who fell beneath her fists, the chances she missed to do what was right, the Vi she might have been if she’d never met you. But those images fade quickly, consumed by the fire burning in her chest. “It doesn’t matter,” she tells herself, “as long as you’re with me.”

When she closes her eyes, she sees it all burning: Zaun, Piltover, the entire world consumed in flames. And at the heart of that inferno, there you are—untouched, existing solely for her. The smell of smoke, the searing heat, the ash choking her lungs… all of it vanishes when her gaze lands on you. She knows there’s no turning back. Her love for you is her undoing, and though it hurts, though it scorches her to the core, she wouldn’t change it.

Sometimes, she imagines a different ending—one where she lets you go, where she finds redemption, where she becomes more than the chaos she’s created for you. But those fantasies are fleeting. Because at the end of the day, the truth is she doesn’t want to let you go. She can’t.

This love has turned her into someone she barely recognizes. But if that’s the price of having you, she will pay it without hesitation.

[lucidbee]

Please Don’t Kill My Boyfriend | Percy Jackson x Reader

Summary: Hermes is an overprotective father.

Word count: 942

Authors note: I wrote this at 2am and didn't proofread before posting, this is definitely not my best work. Please give me requests. 

It was a simple quest all you had to do was kill a group of Echidna that were causing a little too much trouble. A three-day feat at most. When the quest wrapped up on the second day, Percy had the brilliant idea of staying back and relaxing on the way back to camp, instead of sleeping in an alleyway or in the forest with the remaining money we had, we rented two hotel rooms for the night. Grover demanded that he have his own room, stating he could no longer be so close to teenagers in love.  

It started out completely innocent light kisses and words of devotion. It quickly turned into much more when the idea of making up for lost time came into your head. Camp was amazing but it definitely was strict on one thing. No campers of the opposite sex could be alone together. Percy and you had already gotten in trouble trying to sneak you into his cabin late at night, for this exact reason. It was one night of fun that would hopefully be enough to last for a whole summer. That was until a flash of blinding light blinded you both and in front of the bed stood your father. Hermes. 

“You were tasked with killing a monster, not trying to impregnate my daughter,” Hermes angrily shouted, pulling Percy out of bed by his hair.

“I-I  promise that wasn’t my attention sir,” Percy choked out trying to spare the God's wrath. 

“Sure it wasn't, I’ve been alive for thousands of years boy, I have fathered hundreds of children, I am very much aware of what was about to take place in this hotel room,” Hermes growled, dropping Percy onto the floor. Who quickly went to put his pants that were on the floor back on. 

“Dad please it wasn’t like that, we’re teenagers what did you expect to happen?” You called out from underneath the bed sheets.

“You can’t go around sleeping with the son of Posideon y/n.” “You just had to choose the one demi-god that danger follows the most, you could have dated a son of Demeter but nooo.” 

“Take it up with Aphrodite if you don’t want me to love him, we weren’t doing anything wrong,” You cry out, holding the sheets close to yourself as you pick up your clothes from the floor. 

“I am trying to protect you y/n, you’re life is dangerous enough as it is.” Hermes says in a more gentle tone, turning around for you to be able to get dressed. 

“Percy is more than capable of protecting me father, he is the strongest demi-god to ever exist, he has saved Olympus multiple times.” You say while putting on your clothes.

“I still don’t like it, why don’t you take the vow of chastity? Hmm, doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Dad please.”

“I would never purposely put your daughter in harms way, I would flood the world to find her, I would cause earthquakes the world has never seen to avenged her, I love her sir.” Percy said coming to stand next to you. 

Hermes turns to face you both with a defeated look on his face. “You wouldn’t stop seeing eachother even if I ordered you two huh?”

“Nope.”

“No, sir.”

“If you ever hurt my daughter fish boy I will hunt you down and destroy everything you love.”

“Of course sir, I wouldn’t expect anything else.” 

“Now come on get in the car im taking you both back to camp,” Hermes says walking to the hotel door. 

You both awkwardly follow behind him; Percy followed you into the backseat of the cab, shutting the door behind him. “ Do you know how to please a woman, fish boy?” Hermes asked climbing into the front seat of the car. 

“DAD” You scream out. Percys face is beat red and a stuttering mess.

“I just want to make sure he will make a good life partner for you, humans don’t understand the whole open relationship thing us Gods do,” Hermes says driving out of the hotel parking lot.

“Does he make you finish y/n? Sex life is very important in a relationship.”

“Dad please stop,” You beg.

“Is he a selfish lover? A son of Posideon would be selfish in bed, I don’t know why you didn’t choose Zeus’s son.” 

“Please I beg of you stop”

“Yes Zeus is a horrible partner, but he atleast makes you finish,” Hermes continues on, ignoring your pleas.

You suffer through the longest car ride of your life. Both of your faces a permanent color of red by the end of it. Hermes wouldn’t let up for the whole car ride, asking you more and more embarrassing questions. Hermes stop at the border of the camp getting out of the cab to grab your bags out of the trunk. 

“Remeber Percy, sex toys are your friend not your enemy,” Hermes says handing the bags off to Percy to carry. 

“I-I will, sir,” Percy stutters out. 

“And y/n rember to pray to me if he causes you any trouble, I’ll cause him the worst pain he has experienced yet,” Your father says taking you into a hug.

“Thanks Dad, I love you.”

Hermes gets back into the cab, driving off as you and Percy take hands walking back into camp. 

“Well that was fun,” I say chuckling.

“It was definitely an experience I would not like to relive again,” Percy says laughing. Taking his first deep breath since your father appeared. 

“Hey Percy?”

“Yeah,” He says turning to look at you.

“We forgot Grover at the hotel.”

“Shit.”

[lionizingheathen]

Let it be me - H.G.

Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

Eating your best friend Hermione out for the first time.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, oral sex, fingering, nipple play

Smut under cut

Being best friends with someone as gorgeous as Hermione Granger was not for the weak, it’d turned you into a fucking freak, all you could think about was getting on your knees and spreading her thighs, hearing her whimper as she tugged on your hair… These fantasies were fine in your bedroom where you could simply get yourself off, but you were in her living room, there was nowhere to go…

And she was sitting with her legs open in the cutest sleep shorts you’d ever seen in your life, and all you could think of was pulling them off her hips and burying your tongue deep inside you.  You clenched your fingers on your pants, clearing your throat.

You couldn’t stand it anymore.

"Hermione." You asked, looking over at her as a slight smile twitched on her lips, her eyebrow flitting up… Fuck, there was something so sexy about the way that she just existed, it made you want her in the filthiest ways possible, as wrong as it really was. She was your best friend, if you had any tact or patience left, you’d probably abandon ship right now… But you didn’t have an ounce left.

"Y/N." She said, still not looking up from her book. You licked your lips, swallowing on a dry throat as you shifted closer, reaching out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear as your heart pounded in your chest, begging you to give up.

But you couldn't.

“Could I eat you out?” You asked, watching as Hermione's eyes widened, her book falling from her hands as she looked over at you, shocked. God, you wanted to back pedal so hard, but you were too far gone already, it was now or never

Hopefully it wouldn't ruin your friendship, that would destroy you.

“Huh?” Her voice was high and nervous as she said that, making you laugh as you leaned a little closer, noticing that she seemed intrigued, which was a good sign.

“I… Really don’t think I slipped up my words, I think I just asked if I could eat you out.” You traced a finger down her cheek before she brought a hand up to cover yours, looking over at you nervously.

“Do you want to?” She asked, and you nodded quickly.

Obviously, you wouldn't have asked if you didn't want to.

“Fuck yes.” You leaned closer, pressing a kiss below her ear before you spoke into it, noting how her breath caught in her throat. “I’ve been wondering how you taste all fucking night.” She pushed your face away, shaking her head as she did.

Shit. You were ready to take it all back, but then you noticed the little bit of a smile on her face.

“Did someone slip you veritaserum?” Hermione asked, sounding breathless as you chuckled, shaking your head, your hand sliding on her thigh... You weren't sure who would be slipping you veritaserum in her living room, but you could humor her.

“No, I’m just trying to be bold because the nice, slow approach wasn’t getting me anywhere.” You stopped your fingers just shy of her cunt, looking at her for any sort of indication. “Can I?” You asked and she sighed, leaning forward with her elbows resting on her thighs.

You withdrew your hand, not wanting to overstep a boundary, but she was quick to grab your wrist and put it back, looking at you with a nervous expression.

“No one’s ever… Done that with me before.” Oh. “I mean, I haven’t let anyone, I’ve had people ask but I always got nervous.” She said, and you nodded, resting your forehead on her upper back as you traced patters on her upper thigh.

You didn't care if no one else ever had, you just wanted to know if you could be the first.

“Listen, if you’re not comfortable then I won’t push, but if you want it and you’re okay with it being me, I’d love to be the first face you’ve ever cum on.” You said, smiling at the way that she whimpered, covering her face with her hands before she bent fully over again, seeming both embarrassed and a little turned on.

A little turned on was what you were hoping for... You didn't wanna freak her out.

“Merlin, that makes me sound lame… I’m thirty and I’ve never had anyone go down on me.” She said, her voice muffled by her hands, but all you did was shrug.

Sex wasn't a race; everyone could go at their own pace.

“So?”  You lifted her head, placing a hand on her cheek as you stared into her deep brown eyes, your heart catching in your chest... All of the good things in the world were behind those eyes, you were sure of it. “You’re also high ranking in the Ministry… You’ve had other priorities, that’s okay.”  She smiled, pressing her face into your hand as you cleared your throat... Okay... Okay, you could do this. “But I can also catch you up on that milestone right now, if you want.” You offered, and for a terrifying moment, she said nothing and then she looked away from you, neither of those being the things that you were hoping for.

“I…”  Her mouth opened and closed before she cleared her throat, looking at you nervously, her leg bouncing. “What if I taste weird?” You chuckled, shaking your head. If she did, that was no big deal, but you had pretty good faith that she was going to taste as good as she looked.

“You won’t.” You said, and she grimaced, shaking her head, clearly too lost in her own thoughts to listen to you.

“What if I do?” You gripped her chin, making her look you in the eyes, noting how she gasped and how her vision trained down on your lips.

Cute.

“You won’t.” You let out a shaky sigh, cupping her face once more. “Please, Hermione…” You slid down to your knees in front of her, never breaking eye contact as her eyes widened. “Please.” She bit back a moan, shaking her head as if she was in a trance before she looked up at the ceiling, puffing out her cheeks.

Just go for it, baby.

“Fuck… You… Look really good on your knees I never needed to know just how good you look on your knees…” Hermione gasped, and you chuckled, spreading her legs a little bit so that you could come between them, slipping your hands up her stomach, bunching her shirt up a bit as you rested your chin against her upper stomach.

“I’m begging you, Hermione.”  You pressed a kiss there. “Please.” She gasped heavily before nodding.

Fuck yes.

"Okay… Fine, okay.” You leaned up, pressing a kiss to her lips, swallowing her gasp as she tugged lightly at your hair, legs closing around you instinctually. “Mmm…” You pulled back, grinning at her.

"Figured starting with a kiss would be good-.”  She had a determined look as she pulled you in again, slipping her tongue between your lips, making you shiver. “Mmm…” You kissed down the side of her neck, hands slipping under her top to cup her breasts so that you could tug at her nipples harshly, feeling something in you release.

This was heavenly.

"Ha… Ohmygod… Fuck… Take my top off.” She gasped, and you nodded, pulling back to pull her top over her head, your mouth dropping open at the smooth, dark skin that was slowly exposed. You stared at her breasts, squeezing them in your hands, rolling her nipples between your fingers as you squirmed.

You wanted her forever.

"Jesus Christ…” You mumbled, and Hermione cleared her throat, looking away from you, clearly embarrassed.

“Stop staring.” You shook your head.

How the fuck were you supposed to look away from someone who was the definition of beauty.

“I can’t help it… I’m in awe of you.” You said, and Hermione shook her head, frowning.

"Stop..." You bent down, pulling a nipple between your teeth as she gasped, high and needy.

"No." You mumbled against her skin, your hands travelling lower to shuck her pajama shorts off. "I won't." You said firmly, pulling back to nudge her thighs open, your breath catching in your throat.

She was so wet, needy, and spread out for you.

"Fuck..." She whined, making you look her in the eyes... She was desperate, needy... Shy.

You sighed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

"You're so wet." You pulled back, looking down as you did... You just couldn't take your eyes away from her. "Already so wet." You mumbled, tracing your fingers over her cunt, watching as they came away glistening even though you hardly even touched her...

Shit, this was gonna be so fucking good.

"Always am around you." Hermione mumbled, and you smirked, raising an eyebrow as you looked away from her cunt and back to her face.

"Is that so?" You asked, and she rolled her eyes, pushing your face away as your hand inched lower.

You wanted to be inside her.

"Get that look off your face, come on... Oh.... Fuck..." Hermione gasped, and you looked down, your own mouth dropping open when you realized that she'd taken your fingers so quickly that you'd hardly even been able to process it... She was so warm.

And so fucking wet. You slid your fingers out of her before slamming them back in, loving the gasp that came from her and the wet sound it made with each thrust.

This was heaven.

"Sorry, couldn't resist... You took my fingers like they were nothing." You breathed, ghosting a kiss over her lips as she whimpered, cupping your face to give you a serious look.

"Curl them." She said, and you furrowed your brows... You were almost sure that she meant for you to curl your fingers, but your brain was working at like... Maybe half of its normal power right now.

"Huh?"

"Curl them... And use your damn tongue." She groaned, her head hanging back on the couch as she spread her legs further, bringing her free hand behind your head to push your face between them, making you gasp into her cunt, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, the taste.

"Mmmph..." You groaned, sliding your tongue over her as you sighed, looping your free arm around her lower back as you nodded, curling your fingers deep inside of her, hearing her whimper as she ground on your face, a heavenly feeling that you were sure that no one would ever be able to replicate. "Taste so good." You mumbled, hearing Hermione let out a high whine.

"Holy fuck... Yes, yes just like that, please."

"So polite-." She tugged your hair hard, pulling you back in in the sexiest most non-Hermione way possible.

"Don't fucking stop." She groaned, which wasn't something that you needed to be told - you never wanted to stop anyway, there was no way that you'd just pull away with no reason.

"Mhm." She ground her hips against your face quicker, allowing you to bury your face in her cunt.

Fucking hell.

"So good, so fucking good... Better than... I ever... Fucking imagined." Hermione whined, and you smirked against her cunt, your ego soaring at the realization that Hermione had imagined you like this before... Part of you wanted to tease her, to ask exactly what she'd imagined, but you didn't want to stop right now, you were loving this too much.

"Ha." You groaned, lapping up her cunt as you curled deep inside her, feeling how she squeezed around you.

Good girl.

"Y/N..." Her voice was wrecked, sounding like she was moments away from cumming... Cum for me, cum for me... Please cum for me.

"'M cumming! Fuck, I'm cumming, oh my god..." She whined, grinding against your face as you let out a groan of relief, rubbing your thighs together to ease the burn there... You wanted to focus on her, not on your own arousal, overpowering as it was.

"Mmmm..." You kept going, desperate to feel her cum again as she whined, high and desperate, trying to run from your touch.

No. Don't. Don't run.

"Y/N, baby... Baby, I just... I'm so..." Her back arched as she scratched at your scalp, shuddering her way through another sudden orgasm. "Fuck!" You moaned heavily, pulling your fingers out of her so that you could pull her closer, not wanting to be done with her yet...

But she batted you away before you could.

"No more..." She mumbled, and you nodded, pulling back quickly as you looked up at her, seeing her chest rising and falling rapidly... Fuck, that'd been...

Well, it'd been amazing to you.

"How was that?" You asked, and she let out a lazy chuckle.

"Are you joking?" She mumbled, sounding exhausted in a way that made your heart swell with pride, but you didn't want to be premature - you wanted to make sure that you should really be proud right now.

Premature celebration would be a bit embarrassing.

"No. I wanna know." You said, wiping your mouth off carefully as you traced on her legs, trying to keep yourself calm. She uncovered her eyes, leaning forward a bit as she spoke, still looking dazed.

"That was the best sex I've ever had in my entire life." Hermione gasped, a large smile on her face as you kissed over her thighs, gently pulling her to your chest once you were seated beside her again, watching as she flicked her wand to bring a blanket over to the two of you, settling it over your entwined bodies.

"Good." She was quiet for a moment, pensive before she looked back up at you.

"Next time, you should let me get you off." Hermione said, and you raised an eyebrow.

Oh?

"Next time?" You asked and she snorted, nodding like that was a given.

"Obviously." She cupped your cheek, kissing you slowly before she pulled back, her forehead resting against yours. "I'm too smart to let you get away." She murmured and you grinned, nodding.

You weren't trying to leave.

[daisymbin]

second chance romance 12. "every song reminds me of you."

woozi gets writers block after his breakup with y/n and realizes how much color and life had when they were still together. he would do anything to get back together 🥺

why does this already sound so heartwrenching :(( thank you for requesting this, lovely!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // jihoon's m.list

second chance prompt #12: "every song reminds me of you."

jihoon had spent weeks staring at his keyboard, fingers hovering but never pressing. the notes he usually heard in his mind came in fragments—disconnected and hollow. every song he tried to write felt incomplete, as if missing the heart it used to have. as if missing you.

he sat in his studio late at night, frustration burning in his chest. “why can’t i just—” his voice cracked, and he slammed his hand against the desk.

the memory of your laugh, your voice humming along with his music, filled his mind. he swallowed hard. you had been his muse without him realizing.

“why didn’t i fight for you?” he muttered under his breath.

a knock at his studio door startled him.

“you’re still here,” seungcheol said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“don’t start,” jihoon warned, leaning back in his chair.

“i wasn’t going to. i was just wondering how long you were planning to torture yourself.”

jihoon glared at him, but seungcheol didn’t flinch.

“you should talk to her,” seungcheol continued, arms crossed. “you’ve been miserable since the breakup, and it’s obvious she’s the reason you can’t write.”

“it’s not that simple,” jihoon snapped. “i hurt her, cheol. you don’t just come back from that.”

“it doesnt have to be this hard either. you don’t know unless you try. you always overthink, but this—this is different. just go. tell her how you feel.”

“and if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“then at least you’ll know you tried.”

jihoon clenched his jaw, his heart pounding as he weighed the possibility of facing you again. seungcheol’s words echoed in his mind long after his friend left, and eventually, he found himself standing outside your door.

the door creaked open, and your face appeared in the gap, your expression soft but full of unspoken emotion.

“hoonie jihoon?” you said his name like you couldn’t believe it, like you thought you might be dreaming.

his breath caught. “hi.” his voice was barely audible. “i… i know it’s late. i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see me, but—” he faltered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice quiet, tinged with sadness.

“i don’t know how to say this,” he admitted, looking down at his feet. “but i couldn’t stay away anymore. i needed to see you.”

your lips parted, your eyes scanning his face for answers. “jihoon… it’s been months—”

“i can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice breaking. “every song reminds me of you. every melody, every lyric… it’s all you.”

your lips trembled, tears forming in your eyes as you tried to keep your composure. “you can’t just show up like this after all this time. do you know how hard it’s been for me?”

“i know,” he said quickly, his own voice thick with emotion. “i know I don’t deserve another chance. i know i hurt you more than i can ever apologize for. but i’m a mess without you. i can’t write. i can’t think. everything in my life feels empty because you’re not there.”

you looked away, tears slipping down your cheeks. “why did you leave me, jihoon? you didn’t even fight for us.”

“i was scared,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “of how much you meant to me. of how much losing you would hurt. but i didn’t realize that losing you anyway would destroy me.”

you let out a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you wiped your face. “i don’t know if i can trust you again. you broke my heart.”

“i know,” he whispered, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. “but i’ll spend the rest of my life fix it if you let me. i’ll prove to you every single day how much you mean to me. just… give me a chance.”

you stared at him, his words sinking in, the raw desperation in his voice breaking down the walls you had built around your heart. he took a deep breath, his eyes glistening. “i don’t want to live without you anymore.

your tears fell freely now, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. after a long moment, you nodded, the smallest movement, but it was enough.

jihoon’s shoulders sagged in relief, his eyes filling with tears. “thank you,” he whispered.

you stepped back to let him in, and as he crossed the threshold, he hesitated.

“i mean it,” he said, his voice trembling but steady. “i’ll spend every day showing you how much i love you. i won’t mess this up again.”

as you closed the door behind him, the weight of the past began to lift. it wouldn���t be easy, but in that moment, with jihoon standing in your home again, you felt the first flicker of hope.

and for jihoon, the music in his heart finally began to return.

[gildeddlily]

season 2 started off beautifully. I was ecstatic at the end of episode three, for the simple reason that it had the same spirit as season 1. Vi feeling like she made a mistake so big trying to reach Powder instead of seeing Jinx and the danger she represented that the only way to fix that for her was to join her oppressors. Caitlyn destroying all the progress she'd made, unlearning what she'd been taught about Zaun by being with zaunites like Vi, the moment one of them killed her mother, and embracing her roots we can say, talking of bad blood and "I thought you were different"- showing that the internalised racism was always there ready to resurface the moment it had an excuse to. Caitlyn saying that her mother being killed by a teenager who's never dealt with her trauma and mental illness is the same thing as Vi's parents being killed by members of a military institution, disregarding everything she knew about the pain and abuse Vi went through because of the Enforcers. a "men get abused too" situation, in which one ignores the social and historical background of that type of violence to feel less sorry about it. they were perfectly well written, because they are things we see everyday. my father taught me as a child that black people crossing the Mediterranean to look for work in Italy were a good thing, and now that he's had problems at work with one he's started saying the opposite. a gay man I knew laughed at trans folks and said they made things worse for us, ridiculing them in the company of straight people to feel less threatened. (not the exact same thing as what happened to Vi, but you get what I mean).

those are real things, and Arcane has always been good at showing real things.

later on, episode seven, Jayce fell down. he landed in the deepest hole of Zaun, broke his leg, was forced to wear a brace to walk, suffered and had to claw his way back to the surface, to Piltover, in a strange metaphor of Viktor's journey and life (saw a post talking even more beautifully about this, will put the link here if I find it again), and once he met Viktor again, he told him his illness, his legs, he, were beautiful. not despite everything. because of it. and now he can understand him a little more. now he says "your imperfections are beautiful" and we can believe him, because he's not speaking from the perspective of a man trying to convince his friend to stop harming others. he's a man trying to make his partner see that he still loves him, now that he's finally understood him after years of trying to reach the truth and always being stopped by something, and that he understands him enough to know why he's harming others, and that he cares for him enough to think that he will be able to understand why it's wrong. it's Viktor accepting the inevitability of being seen by someone who went to hell and back to reach him.

those were fucking beautiful arcs. they were.

and then?

Vi saw Caitlyn become what she'd always said she wouldn't become, and there were no repercussions. Catelyn got to walk away and live all the same. she lost an eye to Ambessa, but it was no punishment for what she'd done. how many people did she harm? how many people did her actions have repercussions on? Vi shouted at her once, and then it was like it had never happened- which is still real, I guess. it happens everyday. but I didn't see any wish to make us see how that was wrong. I don't want to be told "this is wrong", I'm old enough and smart enough to understand this, but I also think I can see the difference between trying to show deeper meanings and not wanting to deal with difficult plot lines.

and Zaun? it was sad. pathetic. years of abuse were what, forgotten and then vanished in thin air because there was a common enemy? that, sadly, isn't real. it isn't. years or oppression can't be forgotten so easily, not by the oppressed, for one "glorious" fight. it's lazy. what started as a good depiction of reality turned into an american wet dream of big fights and sad sacrifice scenes and epic love stories that cross any difficulty, and economic and social difference. don't you dare say something against Caitlyn and Vi's ending, they went through all that, they deserve nice things. they do. many other people did. no one cared about them tho.

so.

epic failure. good soundtracks tho.

[ttodorokiii]

aaa soft yan!shouto with a yaoyorozu!reader ‼️ reader likes him back but tries to stop him from courting them because they knew momo liked him ;(

warnings: yándèrè, guílt, mánípùlátíòn, íntènsè.

note. LOLLL HI GUYS. Enjoy this if you can I’ll try to be more active here!!!!

•••

You have always known how much your older sister, Momo, cares for Shouto.

You love your sister so much and you could never come between him and her…

But now, as you stand in the quiet corner of the living room, watching Shouto talk to Momohis attention never fully on her, but drawn toward you with an intensity you’ve never seen before the weight of what’s happening presses down on you like a crushing weight.

You like him too. You feel it in the way your heart races when he’s near, the flutter in your chest when his monochromatic eyes catch yours. It’s always been subtle at first, just a passing thought that you pushed aside, thinking it was nothing. But it’s undeniable now. He looks at you like he sees no one else. Like you’re the only one that matters.

And it terrifies you.

Because you know. You know that Momo has feelings for him,

feelings that have never been confessed but are still there, hidden beneath the surface. You know what it would do to her if she found out. And you can’t—no, you won’t—be the one to destroy her heart.

So, you try. You try with every ounce of willpower you have to push Shouto away. When he gets too close,

you step back. When he smiles at you, you turn your gaze elsewhere. You refuse to let your feelings show, afraid that the moment they do, it will ruin everything.

“YN,” he says your name with such quiet affection that your breath hitches. You look up at him, and your heart does a strange, painful twist. He’s standing too close again. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”

Your stomach churns at the thought of what he might say. But it’s more than just that.

It’s his presence, his gaze, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. It’s suffocating. It makes you feel trapped, like there’s nowhere to hide.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but…” He pauses, his expression softening, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart skips, but your mind races. “Shouto…” You bite your lip, your thoughts frantic. You can’t let this go any further. Momo can’t know.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, trying to steady your voice. “I can’t—It’s not right. You… you shouldn’t be thinking like that. Momo she, she likes you, Shouto. You should be with her.”

He watches you, and for a long moment, you swear his eyes darken,

like the cool blue has melted into something dangerous. But when he speaks again, his voice is gentle, almost soothing.

“Momo’s feelings don’t matter,” he says, his voice low, a hint of something darker behind it. “Not compared to what I feel for you.”

How dare he say that?

You feel a chill run down your spine as he takes a slow step closer. There’s a possessiveness in his tone now, something you hadn’t heard before. It’s like a whisper in the back of your mind, a warning. He doesn’t care about Momo. He cares about you.

“I know you’re trying to protect her,” he continues, his voice almost too soft. “But I’m not going to stop, YN. I won’t let you push me away. You’re mine.”

The words hit you like a shockwave, and your breath catches in your throat. There’s something in his eyes, something that has shifted—he’s not just the quiet, kind Shouto you once admired from afar. He’s something darker now. Something possessive.

“I know you’re scared. But I’ll make sure you’re never alone again,” he adds, the promise in his tone unsettling, like it’s something he’s determined to fulfill no matter the cost.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, Shouto. You don’t understand. Momo, she’s my sister. She loves you. You can’t just—”

“I don’t care about that,” he interrupts, stepping closer again, his presence suffocating. “You’re the one I want. And I’ll make sure you know that, YN.”

He cuts you off, you don’t know how to make him understand someone like him could never understand…

You can barely breathe as he stands in front of you now, his body close enough that you can feel the heat of him,

Your mind is racing, torn between the love you feel for Shouto and the guilt that gnaws at you for betraying Momo. You can’t do this to her. You can’t.

But his eyes—those eyes—are burning into you now, and the way he looks at you makes it feel like there’s no way out. It’s like he’s inside your mind, pulling at all your insecurities, your fears, your desires, until there’s nothing left but him.

“I’m not going to stop, YN. Don’t fight me,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper, and you shiver. The way he says your name, it’s a declaration. A promise.

You want to push him away. You want to scream at him to stop. You want to protect Momo, to keep the fragile peace between the two of you intact. But you can’t.

You can’t fight him, not when he’s looking at you like this. Not when he’s making it clear that he won’t let you go.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t be the reason she’s in pain.”

But Shouto just looks at you, his expression unreadable, and says one thing, his voice as cold as ice yet burning with something else.

“She’ll get over it. You’re mine now.”

And it’s in that moment you realize,

the longer you resist, the deeper his obsession grows. He’s not going to let you go. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to protect Momo, Shouto’s not going to stop.

And you wonder, with a sinking heart, if you’ve already lost.

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

I don't trust Joanne at all.

I don't get why people use Joanne's words and motives as part of trying to figure out Amanda, Wooly, and Hameln.

Now let me clear this up now: I do not think Joanne is a bad person. She is willing to do anything to save her brother. And I think we need to understand that that anything is not within our best interests.

First off, I'm probably a bit biased considering I didn't trust Joanne from the very beginning. We meet this masked stranger who is somehow in our aunt's house. (Seriously, how did she get in there? Kate may have given her the keys but... why didn't she tell us about Joanne at all? If Joanne is helping Kate, shouldn't she have said that Joanne might help us too?)

I mean, I think it was a bad idea for Riley to just go into Joanne's car (and sleep in it no less) considering Joanne hadn't yet given us any real proof of her identity or even her name. Like Riley, stranger danger?!

Like if she had turned out to be someone from Hameln coming to kidnap Kate and/or Riley then this would've been really bad. I know she isn't, but at that point Joanne could've been anybody. And we just... went with her without question.

Then we break into the library with her. Like... even if she had Kate's keys she's not an employee there... so that's breaking and entering.

Then let's talk about Joanne's speech. Kate died because of her. Because she was willing to do anything to get her brother back... because she pushed Kate too far. Joanne admitted that this was mostly- if not all her fault. Now, I think she could be blaming herself a bit too much... it's probably not all her fault. But she also admitted that she used us. For her own gain. Not for Kate or our best interests.

But I think the interesting thing about this is that even though Joanne admits that she did all this... it doesn't stop her from doing it again.

In that Cassette tape, Kate was telling us what she wanted... she wanted us to stop. She wanted us to escape and never deal with Hameln's wrath. But instead of respecting Kate's wishes, Joanne goes directly against them, telling us to fight Hameln.

Once again, I'm not saying Joanne is evil or a terrible person. Just that she's working purely for her own goals... our safety and best interests are not on their radar like they were on Kates.

The whole scene of the Wooly monster killing her could mean anything, not just that it's siding with Hameln. I mean, it could definitely be siding with destroying the tapes... it could also be protecting Riley and Kate from a person who clearly dangerous to them specifically.

That night she screamed at Kate to give her those tapes... and I imagine she was probably pushing Kate really hard to find a solution. Kate and Riley are the only two known characters working in Amanda (and to some extent Wooly's) interests of escaping the tapes and ending the show so it can't hurt anyone anymore.

In the "Do you feel safe tape" Amanda warns us about strangers, and also seems to stop trusting us when she hears Joanne's voice. Remember, Joanne is not working in Amanda's best interests which seem to be our best interests as well. She doesn't want to save Rebecca, she wants to save Jordan. Kate probably knew that destroying the tapes would hurt Amanda and Wooly, she probably would have told Joanne this, but Joanne doesn't care. Amanda doesn't trust Joanne. She has every reason not to. We have every reason not to. For she is someone who is willing to sacrifice anything to save someone she loves... and as noble as that is... that includes us. Kate, Riley, Amanda, and Wooly. If it meant saving her brother... she probably wouldn't think twice about doing something that would bring them harm.

What I'm saying is, both demons recognized Joanne as a threat. Now does this mean they are both working to protect us? I have no idea. But Joanne being a threat to Riley and Kate is an interesting piece of the puzzle to consider.

I don't trust Joanne because she is only in it for her goals and not ours. Not that she's a bad person for doing so, plenty of people could probably imagine being willing to do almost anything to save someone they love. But with a person like that... you just can't trust everything they do and say.

Wooly warned us about strangers. Amanda warned us about trusting people. They were probably warning us... about Joanne.

[numberonetribble]

Some Continuation Errors and Other Hmmmm's I spotted in TF One! (this is for funsies!)

- When Orion broadcasts the news to Iacon we hear Sentinel say, "I'm working my miners as hard as I can, I swear I will get you the rest!" Revisiting the scene, he doesn't say this!

Instead the closest we get is; "I know what I promised you, but our mines, they're running out! There's barely enough Energon for us! I swear I will get you the rest!"

Which the miner line is super raw, I really like it, but why would they cut it? Maybe it's to convey to the audience that things are even bleaker ON TOP of the Quintessants being there? It's an interesting choice to keep both lines in!

- Staying in this scene, Orion plays the "I took his cog for myself." line. He was not there for that. Unless he'd digging around in her memories and this is first and foremost in her brain, he wouldn't know to look for it. Which also, it took me several rewatches for me to figure out WHY he thought she was the key. Thing is, other than that first line, he plays lines that he personally witnessed, Orion did not need her memories for this plan to work. Maybe one could argue he wanted hers as his would be considered bias to the public and Sentinel's Right Hand's are undeniable. But the citizens don't see that.

- During the race we see Elita moving crates around as if she's at work. Sentinel said that there would be NO work for all shifts. Yes she's a workaholic. However, she's not alone. There's at least two other bots working with her. Maybe they're also workaholics? Maybe their supervisor told them no you still have to work?

My only guess, it's the next day and they're trying to get those trains loaded as Sentinel has a delivery scheduled. However, these trains should've been prepped and ready to go WAY before this. It's too important to leave last minute. At MOST D-16 and Orion are in the infirmary for a day. They're un-cogged and barely injured, during triage they would've been put last to attend to. So at best, Sentinel is back for 2 days before leaving again. Not nearly enough time to load that many trains.

- When we meet B-127 he says that the new Shift Manager doesn't like distractions. We the audience know he's referencing Elita. She's been there for maybe 2 days. (This isn't really a Continuation Error more like, really interesting? It implies that the timeline was different in an earlier draft as that's very fast for her to establish herself to this division especially during a national holiday. Sure she's the kind of person who would but, you know, this is for funsies)

- The opening narration tells us the audience that the Matrix is needed for Energon to flow. Orion knows this, the citizens know this. Sentinel sees it as an object that can be taken and dismissed the lore of how it works. But why make this recording?? Maybe it was for new Sparklings to watch on their first day alive, but it's in the Archives now. Orion hadn't seen it before, meaning it got phased out. Why not destroy it?

Orion is so insistent that there might be data to help Sentinel, but he never stops to think that Sentinel already knows everything in that Archive.

These are just some thoughts I've been chewing on! I've been watching it everyday after work and these are what stick out to me the most. It's still a really good movie and I love it alot I just want to talk about this stuff 👉👈

[miifu666]

What do you think suklha and Wukong kid would look like if they did have one ? 🤔 …..Celestial realm one fear after hearing those two are courting each other 👀

Theres 2 reasons, i believe they would have a child.

1. Yandere! Wukong AU.

2. It was an accident. A GENUINE accident

_____

CW : mentions of abortion, body dysphoria, weird descriptions of pregnancy, Im trying to write it as how Suklha would view it as so it might be uncomfortable, Pregnant Monkey Suklha Doodles?

Lets say its the Latter, should Suklha accidentally drank the water of fertility and somehow had sex with Wukong. She will try to abort the child, out of respect for their life, not out of disgust. Its a child thats created by a creature from within and outside of this universe, to bear one means to conceive a natural disaster. A sort of Red boy and his samadhi fire. But this time, it can sever through time and erase everything from History, a true personification of the end of death and end of life.

Even as Wukong tried to fight the logical side of Suklha, she would insist on not keeping the child. Preferring to care for the mountain cubs than creating such a trigger. "out of the safety for this wretched world" she would claim, but also a part of her is afraid of what outcome, what probability should come once she does give birth.

It is definitely something the Celestials wouldn't want happening. They'll stop at nothing to try and destroy a pregnant Suklha, in which case is also in monkey form. To ensure the child won't be an amalgamation of anthropod and mammal, a combination of two completely different animal kingdoms that shouldn't exist.

Throughout the pregnancy, Suklha would try to lay low with the cubs following her around, and a couple of Wukong's clones being at her beck and call. One would walk beside her, and the other stayed hidden, out of plain sight. Should Wukong have other businesses to attend to. Wearing long and loose garments to walk around the estate, Suklha tries to hide the wretching feeling of carrying something inside of her. She's already dealt with her identity crisis, and now the thought of something living and itching inside is giving her nausea at every second. The pregnancy won't last much, as the combination of her pure Centipede features and current Monkey form will take around 4-6 months.

Should the child come, it would be the day all hell broke loose. With the underworld using its knowledge on destroying Suklha's vessel, to the Celestials who would try and take the child away, only to keep it in a capsule buried deep within the earth's core. As they have planned, use anything in their arsenal to destroy whatever hope the Monkey king and the messenger have. In this time, Suklha checked the probability and successfully ran to one of the dragons that she kept in touch with. A plan that the celestials wouldn't figure out, to be an opposite of how you usually am. A dragon of the South, A Lady of the red who runs a small village as their protector.

Suklha would soon give birth in the village, particularly in one of the Lady Dragon's estate. While Wukong would try to fight off the several armies, theres a few fake clones of Suklha around Flower Fruit mountain hiding to act as a decoy. The laboring process is enough to shake the heavens. there's a slight tear in the fabric of the universe at each scream, small cracks forming around Suklha as she continues to push out the child inside of her.

I haven't thought much about the child, i think she'll be someone who is spiteful and energetic (as she should, her parents basically are. It should be a genetic trait atp) but still friendly and cheerful, a glance of her attitude, and you'd never expect she'll scream and curse like a sailor with a cheeky face.

Connsidering both of her own parents are revered gods and beings, she would be bold enough to not get intimidated by mere threats. Prone to lashing out violently, should things "isn't logical at all!!"Despite her bold and strong-willed attitude, she's smart enough to understand the things her mom would give. A small advice and she'll see it how her mom would do it.

A contradiction is what she is. Appear cold and withdrawn when you see her around, yet quickly changes once she warms up to you. Showing a more childlike and jovial side. Someone who shines like the sun under daylight, a being unlike any other beneath the moonlight.

A child who has both the ability of Sun Wukong and Suklha, a mix of Trickery and Knowledge. A child of Sorcery, eager to spread knowledge through the world, she is the reason why humanity is hell bent on discovery the maddness within the void. The truth behind the lies, since her birth humanity has been deriven to madness and delusions far more often than it should.

[lilwoofs]

I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I think what saddens me the most is that shadow doesn’t really seem to like adventuring. Sonic and shadow are similar in that they both go fast and go on a lot of the same adventures, and even though adventures just like, happen to sonic he kinda starts them, or at least seems to enjoy them after all “what you see is what you get, just a guy who loves adventure”. He didn’t choose to have chaos unleashed, turn into a werewolf or have eggman make a war, and I’m sure there’s moments (like metal virus and frontiers) where he’d rather that all not have happened, but overall he seems to have fun doing all of this stuff, it’s his hobby, even in the twitter takeovers most of the time when a question about what they is asked he basically just says running and adventuring.

Meanwhile shadow just kinda has that stuff happen to him, his memories are altered and someone wants him to destroy the world, he has amnesia (also metal sonic is mad and making it everyone’s problem), he has amnesia (also someone’s trying to make him destroy the world again), and whatever was going on in 06. He never seemed to relish in the adventure like sonic did, he only really seemed to fight when he had too. (Okay in some games he seemed like he wanted to kill sonic??? (og generations) or just fight sonic for little reason (not to mention what happened to infinite) but it feels like they’re kinda fixing that and it’s pretty out of character for him). For sonic danger is a challenge, it’s fun. For shadow it’s just something happening to him, yeah he might get a little smug about it, but “if the world chooses to become my enemy I will fight like I always have” shadow wouldn’t be fighting if he didn’t have someone trying to make him destroy the world every two seconds-

It would also make sense shadow doesn’t seem to enjoy danger like sonic does, he knows what its likes being attacked and it going wrong (Maria’s death). And to contrast sonic in the twitter takeovers whenever he’s asked about hobbies he says he wants to start a cat orphanage, or that he reads books and plays chess, volunteers at soup kitchens, taking care of his bike, also won’t shut up about flowers. All pretty low stakes things! (He even mentions multiple times in the newest twitter takeovers that he doesn’t fight for fun, only when needed. Now that could just be him not wanting to admit he’s having fun with sonic, because there is a lot of moments we’re he fights with sonic for no reason other then fun, but there’s still probably some truth in there. Who knows maybe we just think that because we always see it from Sonic’s side, and since sonic likes it we assume shadow does too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) And talking to Maria in sh generations it makes so much sense! She seems frightened at the concept of shadow attacking black doom, she’s not scared to talk back to him when he’s being rude to shadow, but she seems surprised that it’s happening, surprised that shadow is so “bold and confident” when shadow fights. Yeah she told him to protect everyone on earth but I don’t think she had shadow stopping earth ending situations in mind. They play chess and go to school, when Maria talks of going back to earth she mentions having food and meeting her family. That was their plan. She didn’t think shadow would have to stop gods and war, she thought he was going to met friends and eat good food! And just help out in small ways when he can.

Going back to Maria’s death we know shadow was powerful at that time, not as much as he is now, but he was frozen for those 50 years (no time to train) which means he was just as strong then as he was in sonic adventure 2 (makes sense he’s the ultimate lifeform). If shadow was back there he would’ve fought the G.U.N agents, but taking in the Maria dialog (“bold and  confident”) and how their life was on the ark he wasn’t used to fighting. If nothing happened to shadow he probably wouldn’t be fighting.

TLDR: where’s my sonic game that’s about shadow owning a cat orphanage and reading books sega?

[viajandopelomar]

Rhys fcked over all of Prythian for one twinkle city. Tamlin fcked over all of Prythian for one person. Both‘s goal was to align with the enemy but secretly spy on them to end them. How are they different?

I guess the only thing that‘s different is that the one person trade is a bigger deal than the city trade. The fandom conveniently forgets that Tamlin was trying to find a way to end Hybern, just like Rhys tried to end Amarantha, and only focus on the fact that he traded Prythian for one person. The fandom only acknowledges the fact that Rhys saved his own, favorite city, nevermind that he caused trauma all over Prythian, 2/3 of his own court included, under Amarantha‘s command.

How different are these 2 exactly? I‘ll always laugh when I come across the „Stop comparing me to him, I‘m not him!!“ scene from Rhys, Denial is a river in Egypt…

MY FIRST ANONYMOUS MESSAGE 🥹

First of all, I think the levels at which they fucked Prythian were different. Rhysand massacred people from all courts, all of them. Massacred families. Whereas Tamlin's actions were limited to the spring, but obviously had consequences beyond the territory, and I also think it's valid to wonder how everything would have happened if Feyre hadn't implanted false memories in the sentinels and manipulated things, you know? Like, would the spring have stayed in the state it's in? Would Tamlin have been able to find out more about Hybern and the war wouldn't have seen so many losses? I think it's a valid question.

About the exchange between territory and city, Feyre and the alliance with Hybern... The people of the spring didn't seem so opposed to Tamlin's intentions. You realize that they still remained loyal, and still welcomed Feyre even when she was the reason for the alliance. Because THE WHOLE COURT WANTED FEYRE BACK, everyone thought she was under torture and abuse in the night court. Everyone welcomed her and trusted her lord, even the fairies from other lands. They all hoped that Tamlin had more behind his intentions. On the other hand, Rhysand had always been hated by everyone outside Velaris, even though he was raised and grew up in Illyria and had fought in the war with them.

Rhysand lived in the camps for around two hundred years and never, at any time, did he get anything but scorn, even though he was the crown prince. The plot never delved into this detail, but I also think it's worth thinking about.We also have the legions that Rhysand hunted down for allying themselves with Amarantha. Those males were hunted down and killed for doing the same thing as Rhysand: allying themselves with the enemy so that their family would survive. But only Rhysand is right, so he hunted and killed them all even when he knew about the war with Hybern beating his ass, and that's never mentioned again either.

Rhysand allied himself with Amarantha after she had decimated half of the excavated city, and then he went and decimated the other territories (if it had been written by another author, perhaps another lord would have allied himself with Amarantha just to destroy Rhysand. But they just kept their heads down) while Tamlin sheltered refugees and fugitives and gave them jobs. Tamlin also only sent his sentries to the human lands at their own insistence, and Rhysand claims he was annoyed that he took so long, he was also pissed that Tamlin didn't give in to Amarantha like he did.

Here's how I understood it: Rhysand was angry that Tamlin protected his own and didn't send them to their deaths, and he was angry that Tamlin didn't want to prostitute himself.

The main difference for me is that Tamlin's people trusted him and were with him until Feyre entered their minds. Rhysand confessed that he enjoyed destroying Amarantha's enemies and is still hated by his people even when he claims to have protected them (he was hated before too).

I also want to point out that in ACOSF Cassian tells Nesta that Emerie came out of a terrible UTM place (I won't remember the exact words, but he said something like that) where the lesser fairies were kept. So in the end Rhysand didn't protect them that well and it was all down to Velaris.

I use a translator called DEEPL, so apologies if anything is confusing.

[mullermilkshake]

Suguru's troubles at the club after the clan meeting

Yakuza!Suguru, Hostess!Utahime, Yakuza!Miguel Things unravel further and fingers point to places Suguru never thought was an option.

The Suguru arrived at the club, it was far less dramatic than it appeared once he marched through the doors.

No furniture out of place, the lights were on and the mechanical fixtures twisted and shimmered over the walls like glitter. Just like they were supposed to.

So what stopped the club from opening, and what were those men doing inside that was so secretive, no one knew at the time besides Yuji Itadori?

They did not destroy Suguru's club, or even steal every bottle of alcohol including the top shelf stuff so that the place was dryer than a funeral.

"No money was taken at all?"

Suguru couldn't believe his ears, he came in through the doors prepare for a nights loss gone, but it was far worse than that.

Utahime stood there with a scowl and her arms crossed, "No they didn't, but what they did, you won't be excited about."

"What did they take?"

There were only a handful of things that could cause damage to the club and Suguru dreaded to think. The pit of his stomach twitched and gnawed away at his side, her response wasn't anything good.

"The client list."

"What?" that list was locked away behind two hardened safe doors. "How did they get a hold of that so quickly?"

"We don't know what they used, just that the book is gone as well as all of the add-ons for the other clubs." Utahime's pager went off, she looked down and fiddled with it, cursing to herself.

"Nanami's been buzzing me off the hook- like I actually knew something. I only came in half hour ago and Miguel isn't even here. No one was, Jesus this is a shit show."

So Nanami was still in the dark too? "This isn't good. Taking those records haven't just taken wages and profits. They've taken months of accumulating money these places make."

Whoever it was knew what they were doing right from the get go. And the most sickening thing was, that Nanami nor the entire Ryomen clan knew who had done this.

Sukuna was going to be pissed and the whole ordeal had made Suguru so late for dinner. What a fucking disaster.

"Mr Geto."

"Miguel."

"I came as soon as I found out," he adjusted his rolled shirt sleeves as the doors closed behind him. "I had no idea or I would have been-"

"It's fine. This couldn't have been avoided, as shit as it is. This was meticulously planned down to the letter if they were able to get to the client list."

Miguel shook his head and made his way over next to Utahime. "No one was hurt, right?"

"No," she shook her head. "There was no one on sight- Jesus this guy can page when I don't need it. But try and contact him when he's having his alone time... Sorry boys, I need to get to a pay phone."

Utahime fiddled with her pager and stormed off towards the exit. Suguru wondered who could have had access to that sort of information, a lot of tiles to turn over and examine with great detail.

"Miguel, you're the only one I really trust."

"Sir?"

It was horrid enough inside his head that he'd have to make this request, but Miguel really was the only one who could pull this off and make sure it remained under the table where it belonged as to not throw a spanner in the works.

"There were only a select few who would have knowledge to the whereabouts of the full clientele list. But I feel that has been compromised."

Miguel nodded and leant against the nearest wall. "You want me to find a mole and extract the information, right?"

"That's exactly it."

"Alright then, consider it done," he pushed off of the wall and wandered over towards the bar, taking up a stool. "Oh, you better get home soon, there's nothing more you can do here. Your wife isn't that pleased you're still out."

"Damn," it hadn't slipped his mind, but it did all the same.

There certainly was some making up to do.

And none of this was even Suguru's doing.

[maul-of-shame]

Oh my god you’re out here acting like you’re some badass queen for having a horrible ship but you just sound like a middle aged bored mom who read a Colleen Hoover book and now makes it their entire personality because they’re bored. Also what’s with the big red letters? You don’t sound like a mean girl who’s making a point, you sound like a loser who’s in desperate need of a dose of reality.

Galadriel is like an older sister (or even a mother figure) to Elrond, which is why their relationship is so comforting. You trying to ruin that does make me upset cause I’m tired of people having no sense of media literacy. Not everything has to be shipped and definitely not something as dumb as this.

Also, fuck that stupid Sauron/Galadriel ship. It’s straight up people romanizing abuse and it’s disgusting. Canon!Galadriel would have never fallen for Hallbrand’s shit or Sauron’s charms and the way the Rings Of Power writers took a strong, mature female character and made her in to an immature schoolgirl (when she’s literally one of the oldest elves, older than Gil-Galad) is fucking stupid and actually misogynistic. I’m so tired of people taking strong female characters and watering them down to make them into a love interest for the villain or make her a cringy villain too. It’s dumb

So yeah, fuck Rings Of Power for destroying canon and destroying Galadriel’s character, fuck those Sauron/Galadriel shippers for being weird, and fuck you for taking a comforting, platonic relationship ship between two characters who have both been through a lot of shit and romanticizing it.

Also, fuck you for erasing Celebrian. I know you probably can’t comphrehend a female character being great without a sword in her hand so take that sword and shove it up your ass.

A word of advice, don’t touch the Lord Of The Rings when you clearly do not understand any of the characters, their relationships, or the meaning behind them. Just write your own book at this point with your own characters and leave the beautifully written stories of Tolkien alone.

Oh nooooooooo, did I offend you and your little Nazgûl toys? Did my horrifying act of (gasp) shipping two FICTIONAL characters make you sprint to the safety of the anonymous ask button, cloak fluttering dramatically behind you, so you could deliver this righteous tirade?🥺🥺🥺

Oh, how will I ever recover from being called a middle-aged Colleen Hoover mom by someone who’s clearly more pressed than the One Ring under Sauron’s hand? Truly, I’m shattered.🙄

Better a badass queen than some self-appointed Warden of the Fandom Wastes, skulking around like Gollum clutching your “precious” canon interpretations. Honestly, the only crown you’d ever wear is made of your own insecurities and bad takes, and even that sits crooked because it’s weighed down by all the irrelevant, unsolicited opinions you can’t stop flinging around. At least I’m out here enjoying myself—what’s your excuse?

You’ve got thoughts on the big red letters, do you? How utterly precious. Let me roll out the crimson carpet for you, since it seems they’ve left such a deep impression on your clearly delicate sensibilities. Here, let me give you more big red letters, because I wouldn’t want you to feel deprived of the melodramatic theater you seem so desperate for:

BIG. RED. LETTERS. JUST. FOR. YOU.!!!!

How’s that? Feeling better? Maybe this will soothe whatever irrational rage my formatting has triggered in that oh-so-fragile ego of yours. You’re acting like I personally painted the Eye of Sauron in your living room. Imagine being so pressed over font choices on the internet as well. It’s giving “I’m mad at PowerPoint for existing” energy, and frankly, it’s embarrassing.

You're embarassing yourself honey.

I wrote a reply, but I doubt you have the intelligence to understand it—or to hear it over the sound of your teeth grinding. Don’t worry, though! I hear Nazgûls get special dental benefits under Sauron’s health plan! Might want to book that appointment before the Mouth of Sauron starts mumbling your excuses for you!🦷🦷🦷

[TW: long salty rant]

First of all, if you’re so confident in your opinions, why are you skulking in my inbox as ANON, like Gollum trying to steal his precious back?

If you’re going to talk big about media literacy and "ruined characters," at least have the courage to do it without hiding behind the shadowy safety net of anonymity. You don’t sound like a defender of Tolkien’s legacy.

You sound like someone who got rejected by the Council of Elrond and has been bitter about it ever since.

Second, your entire rant reeks of irony. You complain about media literacy while writing paragraphs of projection, completely ignoring that this is fan content.

FAN. CONTENT.

You know, the space where people explore different interpretations and tell stories that resonate with them? Oh, but no! We must all bow to your singular, unyielding interpretation of Tolkien’s work, or else risk being smote upon the mountains of your judgment! Get over yourself. Seriously.

The best part? You’re mad about me "ruining" Galadriel and Elrond’s "comforting" dynamic by exploring a different take, but in the same breath, you’re tearing down Rings of Power Galadriel for being "immature" and "cringy." Sweetheart, pick a lane. You’re out here defending canon while also trashing it—what is this, the mental gymnastics World Championships? I have to say, your flexibility is impressive, careful of pulled muscles.

And so I have a sword up my what now?

Oh, my dear anonymous bard of bitterness, that’s quite the reach for someone who’s clearly got a scroll of the Silmarillion shoved so far up their ass that they probably recite Quenya conjugations in their sleep.

What’s next? Are you going to accuse me of erasing Melian because I didn’t write her into my Elrond and Galadriel fic either? Or maybe I’ll get yelled at for not including Bill the Pony in a Kingsman AU (he will be besties, don't worry)?

Let me make this very clear for you, Elvish Choir Master of Overreach, Herald of the Screeching Essay, Defender of the Lore That Nobody Asked You to Protect, Wielder of the All-Caps Argument, and Keeper of the Scroll That’s Shoved So Far Up Your Ass You Probably Quote “Ainulindalë” When Ordering Your Morning Coffee (truly, your titles grow longer than Treebeard’s introductions, yet none of them seem to include “Maker of a Valid Point.”!")-

Celebrian is not missing because I "don’t comprehend strong female characters without swords." She’s missing because, brace yourself, not every single piece of fanfiction has to feature every single character from Tolkien’s works.

Shocking, I know. Truly, I can hear the Valar themselves weeping at this revelation.

But here’s the thing: I’m not writing a Celebrian-centric fic. And you know what? That’s okay. You can unclench now.

Let’s really talk about your oh-so-bold suggestion to shove a sword somewhere for a sec. That’s your masterstroke? That’s the hill you’re dying on?

If we’re being honest, your insult is so dull it wouldn’t cut through soft butter on a sunny day, let alone make me flinch. Sting is officially handing in its resignation because it’s mortified to even share a sentence with you. You’re out here acting like you’ve got the sharpest blade in the Shire, but all I see is someone frantically flailing with a broken spoon.

And then there’s this laughable attempt at moral superiority. You’re swinging around words like you’re a defender of Middle-earth itself, valiantly protecting Tolkien’s legacy, when in reality, your argument is about as sturdy as a sandcastle at Helm’s Deep. You’re not a warrior—you’re the Mouth of Sauron after a bad day, spewing nonsense and hoping someone will think it’s profound. Newsflash: it’s not.

Let’s be clear: your little temper tantrum reeks of someone who just discovered the caps lock button, a bunch of adult words and decided to let it do all the heavy lifting.

I’ve seen hobbits throw better shade after three pints of ale.

You’re no mighty protector of canon—you’re just another basement-dwelling troll who thinks yelling loud enough will make people take you seriously.

And your sword suggestion? I’d recommend you point that creative energy inward, maybe use it to figure out how to construct an actual argument instead of regurgitating clichés you probably heard from your "leader" of choice in your private toxic fandom echo chamber. Don’t worry, though—I doubt you’ll hear any of this over the sound of your teeth grinding or the faint whistle of your Nazgûl screech echoing through your mom’s basement.

Maybe take a break, Denethor—chew on a tomato or two, cry into your cloak, and try again when you’ve leveled up from hobbit insult level: preschool.

Honestly, you’re not even mad about Celebrian being “erased.” You’re mad because I dared to write something that doesn’t align with your precious headcanons. And instead of just scrolling past, you decided to play Tolkienquisitor in my inbox, as if you’ve been personally tasked by Eru Ilúvatar to uphold canon.

I'm sorry (no) to break it to you but nobody crowned you King (or Queen) of Arda.

Not every single piece of fanfiction needs to involve every canon character just to meet your Tolkien purity test. If that’s a requirement, maybe you should write the fic. Oh wait....- you’re too busy spamming inboxes with this unhinged bullshit. My bad.

Here’s the thing, Bearer of Misplaced Rage: nobody asked for your unsolicited essay about the sanctity of Celebrian. But please, do continue climbing the Tower of Tolkien Purism like you’re on some holy quest. Maybe at the top, you’ll find the self-awareness you so desperately lack—or perhaps just a mirror to reflect your ridiculousness back at you.

You wanna talk about erasing characters? Fine.

Let’s talk about how you erased common decency, social awareness, and basic literacy by barging into my inbox with this drivel. The lorebros tirades and scroll-up-the-ass syndrome are bad enough, but now you’re out here flinging insults like “shove a sword up your ass” as if you just invented edgy. Sweetheart, that’s not edgy—that’s the kind of thing a D-list internet troll would type before running out of Wi-Fi.

So, let me leave you with this, oh Guardian of the Fanfic Gates: the next time you feel compelled to compose another Screed of the Self-Righteous, maybe take a moment to ask yourself, “Does this make me sound like a reasonable human being, or just a Balrog throwing a temper tantrum in a lava pit?” Because right now, I’d wager Smaug hoarding gold has more chill than you do.

And let’s not even start with your hilariously misplaced outrage about me shipping Elrond and Galadriel while we both apparently agree that Saurondriel is not our cup of tea. You’re yelling into the void about something I never even said or supported. Congratulations! You’ve officially argued against a strawman!

Here’s your Orcish participation trophy!

Thank you, Supreme Chancellor of Canon Policing, Overseer of the One True Interpretation, and Gatekeeper Extraordinaire of Tolkien’s Sacred Scrolls. I am truly humbled to be graced with your unsolicited advice, delivered with the self-importance of someone who thinks they’re the Mouth of Sauron but comes off more like Gollum arguing with his own reflection. Truly, I don’t know what I’d do without such pearls of wisdom.

But let me give you a word of advice, oh Lore Purist in Chief, President of the Fanfiction Police Union, and Guardian of the Shire’s Moral High Ground: I will touch Tolkien’s world, twist it, flip it like a pancake, and build something entirely new on top of it because guess what?

I’ve already done it.

And I’ll do it again.

And the best part? I don’t give a single, solitary fuck about your opinions, your outrage, or your sad little attempts to gatekeep Middle-earth like it’s your family heirloom.

You think your tired, sanctimonious “write your own book” line is a gotcha? Sweetheart, I already have. Several, in fact. And guess what? I’ll write more—more stories, more ships, more reinterpretations—and there’s nothing you can do but sit there in your self-proclaimed Chair of Canonical Superiority, furiously typing out essays that no one but you cares about. Go on, keep clutching your pearls and scribbling your fanfic hate manifestos, but let me promise you something: I’m not stopping. Ever.

It’s honestly adorable that you think your little decree will somehow shame me into putting my pen down. What next? You gonna summon the Valar to smite me for daring to reinterpret a fictional world?

Send an eagle my way, please—I’ll need it to carry all the fucks I don’t give about your opinion.

And let me be clear, Warden of Tolkien’s Spirit: your outrage is just fuel for my creative fire. Every time you whine, I just want to write more. So congrats, you’re officially my muse now, Pontiff of Perpetual Fan Rage!

You know what’s truly laughable? Your holier-than-thou act of pretending you’re the sole arbiter of what Tolkien “meant.” Tolkien’s works are complex, layered, and ripe for reinterpretation—that’s the beauty of storytelling. But no, you’ve decided you’re The Chosen One who understands it all, while the rest of us mere mortals stumble around in the dark.

Honey, if you’re the shining beacon of understanding, I’d rather take my chances in Moria without a light.

So, High Inquisitor of Gatekeeping™, continue shouting into the void, continue crying about my creative choices, and continue being mad about fanfiction. Meanwhile, I’ll be over here doing exactly what you hate: writing more, creating more, and caring less about your irrelevant opinions.

Go back to your dark little corner of Middle-earth, chewing on your bones—or was it cherry tomatoes this time?—and maybe weep dramatically about how "nobody understands your self-proclaimed brilliance". Honestly, your energy is giving less "Steward of Gondor" and more "Steward of Mom’s Basement."

Do you light a big, dramatic bonfire every time someone disagrees with you, or do you just sulk under the glow of your monitor, waiting for someone to tag your ship so you can descend like a Nazgûl in a hissy fit?

You’re out here acting like you’re defending Tolkien’s honor, but let’s be real—you’re just pressed that not everyone worships at the altar of your very specific, incredibly narrow, terminally boring interpretation of his works. It’s okay, really. We get it. You’ve been sitting there so long with that “scroll of canon” shoved up your ass that you’ve convinced yourself you’re a scholar.

Spoiler alert: you’re not. You’re just the guy crying into a bowl of instant noodles, mad that someone dared to take creative liberties with a fictional story.

To my knowledge, the Tolkien Estate is NOT sending you a paycheck to defend their lore. You’re not a martyr. You’re not a scholar. You’re not even the fun kind of fan who shares cool lore facts. You’re just the guy screaming, “That’s not canon!” into the void while the rest of us are out here enjoying our fandom like adults.

Here’s a thought: maybe instead of crying about other people’s ships, you could take that energy and, I don’t know, apply it to something useful. Learn Elvish. Build a model of Barad-dûr out of your tears. Or maybe, just maybe, stop weeping over cherry tomatoes and touch some grass. I hear the Shire has a lot of it.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have characters to write, ships to build, and a very long scroll of I don’t care to finish signing. Good day, Esteemed Minister of Misguided Rage.

Morning people! It's just above 8am but a Lorebro called (screamed)! XD