#i cannot and will not ever understand you

[mrsbarnesblog]

cost of betrayal

masterlist

summary: after Rafe finds out the truth about you and Hollis, he comes back from Morocco, expecting you to be gone, but you refuse to leave without trying to work things out first

word count: 1.7k.

warnings: part 2 spoilers, angst and fluff, pogue reader, arguments, trust issues

a/n: i stand Sofia and Rafe, guys. need them together asap 🙏

“I think I told you to get the fuck out of my house, Y/N?” It’s the first thing you hear when Rafe walks through the front door of his house, throwing his bag on the floor and walking right past you, not even looking in your direction. You get up from the couch, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. 

Your chest feels tight, and your eyes are still swollen and red from the amount of crying as you silently follow him to the kitchen. That one stupid decision can cost you everything, including the man you love, and for the past few days, all you have been able to do is cry and curse yourself for being so stupid. 

You stop when Rafe leans forward with his hands on the counter, his back is unusually tense, you feel anger radiating from him even from a distance and it’s all your fault, you know that. 

“We need to talk.” You whisper, coming closer and hugging yourself with your arms. 

“I have nothing to talk to you about.” 

“Rafe, please. I need to explain.” He turns around suddenly, blue eyes colder than you have ever seen. You almost step back from Rafe’s intense gaze, because never before were you at the receiving end of that look. He was nothing but sweet and kind to you during your entire relationship, so losing that privilege hurts you even more. 

He tries to hold back, tries to calm himself down at the image of your looking at him so sadly, with regret written all over your face. Rafe breathes heavily, trying to hide the pain of feeling played by you—the only person he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. He hates that even now, even with the anger raging inside him, he still feels that instinct to protect you, to calm you.

Hurts at the realisation that he doesn't want to lose you, that a part of him feels like he cannot survive without you, that even after what you’ve done he can’t let you go. He doesn’t want you to actually leave him alone. 

“The fuck you need to explain? The way you betrayed me, huh?” He takes slow steps towards you, intimidating, almost threatening, but his voice shakes with emotions. “The way you went behind my back with that bitch Hollis to screw me up and make me lose my money? I fucking trusted you, I gave you everything and you still did that to me.” Rafe’s face was just inches from yours and you were unable to take your eyes from his, unable to even deny it, because he was not wrong. 

“I know, Rafe, I know!” You sob, unable to hold back your tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant to set you up like that. I was angry at you and she appeared at that exact moment, and... 

“She was fucking angry!” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air. You flinch but still stay your ground. 

“Because you hurt me, Rafe!”

“Bullshit. I did nothing but take care of you.”

“I heard what you told your friends.” You yell back, not caring about trying to communicate properly anymore. You were wrong for doing that, yes, but the way his words made you feel at that moment was probably the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, so it wasn’t like you were the only one to blame. “That you’re not living with a pogue, that you have standards, that we’re just hooking up... I heard it all, Rafe. How did you expect me to react to that, huh?”

You see a slight shift of recognition or even regret in his eyes, but he quickly goes back to his previous coldness. 

“So you made me lose my money because of this shit?” 

“I know that it was wrong, okay? But... but do you understand what I felt at that moment? Do you understand how much it hurt me to hear it?” You sob again, desperately trying to wise away all of the tears that were streaming down your face. You’re barely able to speak properly with the lump in your throat, but you push it away because you feel there’s only one chance for you to get things straight with Rafe. 

He stays silent, his brows are knitted, whether in still-lingering anger or in a hint of regret and frustration because of the way you were feeling. Rafe always hated seeing you cry, seeing you hurt in any type of way, even if he hasn’t always been able to admit or express it, and now part of him is more angry at himself than at you. Your trembling frame, the way your shoulders shake with each sob, chips away at his anger, leaving only the fear of losing you.

“We’ve been together for more than a year, Rafe. I— I thought that it meant something to you. That I mean something to you. I was hoping that maybe all of your kook and pogue bullshit was long forgotten, but you didn’t even hesitate to say that to Topper.” Your voice is filled with sadness and despair, and you are aware that you are probably looking a mess right now. All  you can do is just wipe your face with the loose sleeves of your shirt, sniffing in between your words and trying to make your voice less shaky. 

"How was I supposed to feel?" How would you feel if you were in my situation, Rafe? If I said you did not mean anything to me and I was just having a good time?" You ask, but don’t get an answer. Instead, he just looks at you silently, with a blank expression, because he knows that he would’ve gone absolutely crazy. “I love you. I did for a long time, but you made me feel as if I was nothing to you. Just another pogue that you despise, that you keep around for fun until you find someone better and just dump!” Placing a hand on your violently beating heart, you take a deep breath before continuing. 

“It was stupid. I regretted it as soon as I did it and I wanted to tell you, but you had already signed the contract. I know I hurt you with what I did. But can you really say you didn’t hurt me first?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. He finally mutters, his voice quieter now. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. All my life, everyone’s expected me to be a certain way, to follow the same fucking rules I don’t even believe in. I thought… I thought if I kept us under the radar, I’d protect you from that. And you know how hard it is for me to open up—that I don’t want to let people in because everyone ends up leaving me.” 

“I never meant to betray you, I never wanted to be another person who hurts you, Rafe.” You feel like you are about to collapse, burying your face in your hands and crying. 

It feels like a joke of your spiraling mind at first, but when your body suddenly gets embraced in a familiar warmth and scent, you break down completely. Rafe hugs you around your shoulders and you wrap your hands around his waist, gripping the back of his shirt and hiding your face in his chest. You’re sniffing and trembling, unable to breathe properly, until you feel his hand at the back of your head and his low voice shushing you. 

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe. ‘S okay.” He rocks both of you from side to side until your breathing straightens. The steady beating of his heart soothes you quickly, until your tears get dry on your face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I was an idiot for not protecting you the way I should’ve.” You feel him slightly leaning down. Slow, delicate kisses being left on your temple, on your cheek, and with a slight movement of your head, Rafe’s able to capture your lips. 

Your face is still sticky with tears, and your lips are swollen, but neither of you care as you start to melt against him. It’s been way to long since he left for Morocco. The stress that you’ve experienced from your fight and from the fact that you were going crazy about his safety was overwhelming. 

While he was kissing you slowly, you both realized how hard it was to stay apart for that long, not sure of what was happening between you two. 

“I’m sorry that you lost so much money because of me.” You mumbled when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. 

“You know it’s not the damn money I actually care about. I thought that I was wrong about you, that I lost you, Y/N.” You shake your head against his, caressing the sides of his face with your hands. 

Rafe lifts his free hand that was not holding your waist, placing it on top of your hand and you see the way his tense shoulders immediately relax at the feeling of his mother’s ring still on your finger. 

“We’re making it official. I don’t care about this pogue bullshit, don’t care about whatever Topper with his crazy bitch or other kooks think about it. I’m not wasting my time anymore.” You smile through happy tears now, looking Rafe in the eyes, seeing that familiar warmth that you were afraid to never experience again. He smirks back at you, holding you tighter against his chest. “No more hiding and lying, yeah, baby? I love you.” 

“Y-yes. No more of that stuff. I love you too, Ray.” You giggle before he drags you even closer to kiss you again. 

[theprofmoth]

I really don't want to take away from the racism side of things but I need to rant a bit about the ableism part. I'm physically disabled since birth. According to my insurance (which is considered fairly good insurance) I cannot have more than a few thousand dollars in my bank account from what I understand. If I were to ever get a stable job and get married I fear I would be hit with the full costs of my plethora of medical equipment I need DAILY to live. I'm privileged enough to have a family to turn to for support but there are plenty of people who don't. Whether you're POC, queer, disabled, etc, please support each other. Please.

Edit: Just talking some more about this. It's scary. Especially with recent events in the US. Please stick together. All of you. I'm both disabled and queer so I'm doubly fucked if I wanted to get married. It's still technically legal but people can just make it a nightmare if they want to.

[awaywithself]

Thinking about zosan where they butt heads during the day, shoes to blades, scalding words, scathing glares. while none of it holds any real weight, they still play up this grand facade of hating each other, swearing by the stars they can’t stand to be in the same room.

but when night falls, those same stars pay witness to how zoro lingers in the galley as sanji cleans up after dinner, dozing off to the gentle clinks of washed plates. they see how sanji climbs up to the crow’s nest long after everyone has fallen asleep, with blankets and a bottle of zoro’s favorite sake in tow.

they see how zoro ambles into the men’s quarters after night watch and clambers into his hammock, bumping not-so-subtly into sanji’s. they see how sanji gently rouses at the movement, and when zoro’s settled, his breathing even, he slides out of his own bed and climbs in with him. he nudges him over, zoro huffing with childish and weightless petulance as he shifts to give sanji the space to curl into his side. they stay like that for however long the darkness of night lasts, sanji’s head on zoro’s chest and zoro’s arm around him, tucked close into each other, warm under the blankets and briefly, blissfully impervious.

and when the sun rises, chasing away the stars and their secrets, they part and do it all over again.

[fluideli123]

The distance from the man that I am to the man I want to be The time it takes to realize time is the distance I need But I was born impatient And I was born unkind But I refuse to believe I have to be The same person I was born when I die 'Cause change is alright Change is alright...

Cocaine and Abel by Amigo the Devil

My first Starscream piece I've ever successfully made! I've been re-reading my favorite Transformers fic Stop Me by @megadoomingir recently and, alongside making a 4k+ word post about how much I love it, I decided to make my first piece of fanart!

I have an entire playlist of songs that remind me of this fic, so I decided to add the lyrics for the first song that reminded me of Stop me Starscream <3

My long ass post is still in the works, but as I work on that I'm hoping to post more art!! And please if you haven't already, go support megadoomingir! Their art and writing are absolutely phenomenal!

[louscurls]

[article]

WHAT THE FUCK

ohmygod

this is why i hate stanning actors

this is the dumbest fucking shit i have ever had the misfortune of reading

what in the biphobia. holy. what the fuck oliver

i thought you wanted to handle buck with care. i thought you cared about the representation. wheres the attitude you showed that interviewer in KTLA5. wheres the compassion from the Zach Sang show or the joint interview with Lou???

what the fuck is this??? how is this care??? how???

all that talk from s7 only for us to go back to fuck boy buck.

all that development for buck the last 7 and something seasons and for what???

for oliver to say the most disrespectful shit ever???

i cannot for the life of me understand this quote from oliver, and reconcile it with what the show showed us about buck and his growth.

i want that last bit to give me hope but im way too angry at everything before it to even give a fuck because what the actual fuck are those answers oliver stark

[sockatoothewafflebird]

i love that people hate caitlyn for what she did. i absolutely love all the discourse around her. but i need you all to understand that i yearned for her the second she came on screen in arcane and i will be on the frontlines defending this woman.

1) caitlyn is in the wrong. let's get that out of the way. she hurt vi in such a visceral way i don't think vi could ever, ever forget it. it's such a raw betrayal seeing that gut-punch. but,

2) i cannot blame her for what she did.

she was forced her into a role she didn't ask for, clearly didn't want. ambessa does the same thing, but on a much larger scale, and this time she doesn't have a shoulder to cry on. cait i love you but get a damn therapist omfg

multiple times she's shoved into a seat she doesn't know how to fill, while mentally unfit to fill it. and she accepts it because the eyes of the world are upon her. she's a kiramman, she will take the crown even if it won't stick to her head. even if the crown has bloodstains on it. even if those bloodstains are an oddly familiar shade of pink that she wishes she could run her fingers through...

anyway, caitlyn is going to have a very rough time this season. she's going through it, and she's not in the right headspace to be doing any of the things she's doing- but she'll keep going because that's what she feels she needs to do. that's what ambessa makes her think she's obligated to do.

she has a long way to go before vi can forgive her, but i have faith that they can fix things. caitlyn and vi are some of the most well-written sapphics i've ever seen (down to the pre-dating breakup like come on that had to have been written by a lesbian) and i trust that arcane will do them justice.

...anyway time to rant about the time travel theory i have in my drafts :3

[dinsbeskar]

The Number of the Beast (Sauron/F!Reader)

After his frankly embarrassing defeat at Tol-in-Gaurhoth, Sauron seeks you out;

You discover his werewolf form and press him for the whole truth and nothing but

Sequel to Wicked Game // AO3 Link

Songs to listen to: Animals by Maroon 5, Closer by Nine Inch Nails (obviously Sauron's jam), Teeth by Lady Gaga

Special Mention to Home by Snow Ghosts, as recommended by @sansaorgana, immaculate vibes for this fic!!

Warnings: 18+! Werewolf!Sauron, smut (smh we cannot keep it clean for 5 minutes!!) werewolf sex (I'm sorry!! It's not a lot!! Idk!!!), P in V sex, oral sex (female receiving), dubcon (he is not in control of himself and even though you are up for it, you're still terrified of him and his uhhh size), size kink/size difference, hurt/comfort, manipulation (it's Sauron, he sucks guys idk), angst towards the end

A/N: y'know what, I warned you all this was going to happen. Sauron is a werewolf, and things get interesting weird. Idk I don't feel like it's overwhelmingly filthy, maybe y'all won't mind 😂🙈 there is actual plot to this one, and it will be fairly pertinent to the rest of the story, but you can skip the smut if it's not your cup of tea, I get it!! (Skip the section marked by ***)

Word Count: 4.9k!

Writing playlist here if so inclined 😅

Translation note: Amarië means 'goodness', Uthaessel means "tempting girl' as far as I can tell!

A nameless terror has been stalking your kin in these woods for years, and you are eager for your husband's embrace as you delve further into the woods, heart racing at every tiny rustle in the trees. He would never let anything happen to you, but he was not here, at least not as far as you could tell.

Usually when he drew close, you could feel a warmth deep in your soul, like embers stoked in a neglected fire, made to dance and blaze again with renewed vigour whenever he returned to you. But for the moment all you feel is an icy cold fear in the pit of your stomach; you should not be out here alone.

You think to turn back, to run back to the safety of your fledgling city, but you press on. He promised he would be here, and you cannot disappoint him, not after the long months he has spent in the north craving your touch.

The forest is so quiet as you make your way to the glade that has become so sacred to you and your husband. You keep as silent as you can, footsteps making no rustle in the leaves underfoot; the air is too still, the silence deafening where there should be sounds of birds and insects conducting their nightly business.

You are not far from your meeting place now as even the wind falls still. You breathe a sigh of relief as you catch sight of the rushing water that will lead you to safety. He will be there to assuage all your silly fears, the thought giving you the strength to keep moving.

A sharp howl, long and guttural, pierces the air, and you freeze. It sounded far off, or maybe closer than you think; your head is in a spin as you try to judge what could have possibly made such an unearthly sound. It didn't sound like any wolf you've ever heard; it had an almost sorrowful lilt that drew you to it. Shaking it off, you creep into the glade, expecting to see him there.

Disappointment washes through you; you are alone, and now you hear another howl, closer than before.

He will understand, you think, let's go home.

You start to take the winding path back to the thick treeline, but hear cracking branches, heavy footfall, ragged breath, from the dark undergrowth.

You back up, starting to shake and sweat. You are not made for this, never have you had to protect yourself from such a beast. You look around for anything with which to defend yourself, landing on a large broken branch that looks like it might be lethal in the right hands. Shame then, that your hands have never seen combat.

Dragging your makeshift weapon, you look for somewhere to hide, terrified that the beast might have already caught your scent.

~

He doesn't know why he's here, why he would put you through the horror of seeing him in his bestial glory; all he knows is that defeat has pushed him into your radiant embrace, to soothe the heavy losses he had suffered and prepare the fortitude of his mind to face his master's wrath.

His defeat at the hands of some Elf-Maia and her dog had shamed him; he could not go back to Angband now, not now Tol-in-Gaurhoth was lost, and all he craved was your touch, for you to wash away all his ills.

He pads through the forest, trailing a silent darkness in his wake, all birds and beasts fleeing before him. His black blood drips and pools in the undergrowth, scorching the earth.

His mind is clouded with pain and shame, something with which he is not familiar, and would not suffer again given the option, how it turns his stomach, and makes him crave nothing but your sweet embrace. Where are you? He can think of nothing else, having travelled so far in search of salvation.

The breeze betrays you, carrying the sweet scent of the berries you love to eat, the oils you use on your skin, and he groans, a deep visceral sound that would usually shake the foundations of Middle Earth, if only he were not so deeply tired.

He follows your scent, instinctively, unthinking as to how you might receive him. As he gets closer, his soul sings for you, his heart swells, and he can think of nothing else.

Exhausted, he reaches out to you, tendrils of his mind softly caressing yours. He hears your soft sigh and follows the sweet sound to your doom.

~

The forest around you turns deathly silent, the very air robbed of its oxygen in a split second. You hear only the crack of fallen branches and the heavy movement of something massive in the dark.

You should be terrified, why do you not run?

Quaking in your hiding spot, you find yourself rooted to the spot, crouching and unable to move, doomed to listen to the beast in the dark.

You feel it then; a darkness in your mind, touching your thoughts, and the terror grows. The scent of sweat dripping down your back only helps him find you sooner, and as you hear him approach, the tremor in your fingers grows.

If you can only stay quiet, perhaps it will ignore you, perhaps you will be blessed tonight. You screw your eyes shut and pray.

Alas, a hot huff of breath sweeps the side of your face, and you scream, you can't help but keep screaming, even after you've picked up your weapon and blindly struck the great beast, before you roll out from under it and run as fast as your legs can carry you.

He shakes his head, blind rage now overtaking him, even as he sees you, scents you, wants nothing more than to cover and embrace you.

The pair of you race through the forest; you know it as well as any of your people, all the shortcuts and secret places. But your quick light tread is vastly outmatched by his sheer ferocity, and in your panic, you take a wrong turn, meeting a sharp cliff face where you were sure there was a waterfall you might have lost the beast in. You curse your folly and spin around, awaiting your fate.

Two great paws come to rest either side of you, as its wolven face bears its teeth and snarls, black blood dripping from the gash you inflicted on its temple.

You can do nothing but shut your eyes, shaking in terror as the beast takes you in, sniffing at you and panting. Any moment now, this will all be over...

Amarië... love... need you...

The unspoken voice you hear is somehow familiar, deeper and more guttural, and yet...

You reach out your hand, offering your soothing touch freely. Baleful golden eyes watch you carefully as he closes the gap and leans in to your trembling touch. You should run.

"Mairon..." The beast's eyes soften as you look up at him, and you realise a terrible sorcery is at play here.

You feel his mind caress yours and you relax, easing into the unfamiliar feeling of fur beneath your fingers. You trace the sinewy muscle of his neck a while, assuring him in hushed tones that you've got him, that everything will be alright, that you're here, his horrors are over.

"Oh, my love..." You run your fingers over him, suddenly mindful of the wound you'd inflicted yourself only moments ago.

In your inspection, you find many more, deep gouges and bitemarks that have festered, and your heart aches for him. How could this have happened? Who did this to him?

"Come, love, I have you now," you grasp his fur on his neck and lead him back to the river, careful not to touch the open sores in his sides yet.

He staggers into the rushing current, clear water turning black as he submerges, washing off his defeat and returning little by little to you.

You wade in after him, ripping a strip off your hem; how times had changed since last you did this for him, having now ruined two dresses to tend his wounds.

You soak the fabric and begin to dab away the grime and viscera, so that you can start to heal him with every spell your people know for such injuries.

It doesn't take long before his whines of pain become pleasurable, enjoying your touch and the cool water on his skin. His mind is less fraught now, more present, and before long he begins to panic. His sweet wife, his innocent wife, had seen him for what he truly is, a Lord of Beasts, monstrous and terrifying to behold, and here she was, running her gentle fingers over him as if he was the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen.

You notice his panic and immediately go to soothe him, rubbing circles over his muzzle, trying not to overthink just how strange the situation had become.

"It's okay, love, I'm here, you're okay," you whisper softly, "who did this to you, love?"

Trying to soothe him was proving difficult as anger begins to bubble in the pit of your stomach; who was responsible for this sorcery? You would rip them limb from limb, your gentle nature be damned.

That blasted Elf-Maia hybrid and her brute of a dog, he thinks bitterly, reliving his utter defeat once more.

"My darling, you can tell me, who did this to you? Transformed you this way?" Surely it was a curse that could be broken, that you could face together.

Oh. Oh, no. His blood runs cold. Yes, of course, that's what you mean; how were you to know he could transform himself at will, that this was a form he liked to take in battle. Used to like. It might be a while before he chose a wolfish form again, given everything that had happened with Lúthien.

He goes to stand, to leave the river and avoid your questioning, but his legs give out from under him. Your heart wrenches at the sight of your beloved suffering so, how it pained you.

"I have you, don't move yet," you say softly with an encouraging smile. "I've got you."

More murmuring in Quenya, pressing your hands to his wounds, feeling your energy flow into him, all of your efforts were enough to finally restore him, and you both emerge from the river into the cool night air, sodden and freezing.

He collapses on the river bank, with you quick to follow; your healing had taken a lot out of you. Shivering, you lean into him for his furnace-like warmth, blessedly finding him already nearly dry.

You're so tired, your questions can wait until after you've rested, and so you do.

~

It is still hours before dawn when you wake to the unfamiliar sensation of warm silky fur on your cheek, lining your body, encompassing you in a blissful heat.

Fear jolts any sleepiness from your mind, and you try to stand. But his great limbs keep you from moving, and he rumbles his disapproval deep in his chest.

Suddenly you remember.

"Mairon?" You whisper, "darling, how do you feel?"

I was fine. His words are still unspoken, heard directly in your mind.

"Was? Can I help, love?" You worry that your work is not done, that perhaps there are ills that you have not yet healed.

Go back to sleep, your presence is soothing, my sweet.

"I can soothe you while awake!" Your tone is indignant and his chest quakes with what sounds like laughter, if you're not mistaken.

I didn't say you could not, but now you're awake, there are other urges I'd rather have you satisfy, Uthaessel.

Other urges... you blush as you realise what he means. He only calls you by that epithet when he craves you so particularly, that nothing else might sate him but hours between your thighs. 'Temptation', indeed.

"Well, you've recovered quickly." You laugh, brushing his side and finding his gaping wounds already healed over.

"And while you're like this, my darling, I'm not quite sure how that would work." You do have an idea, but it might be... uncomfortable.

He groans, deep in his chest, making your whole body vibrate with it; maybe a little discomfort wouldn't be so bad?

I have many ideas, precious one, all you need to do is lie there and relax for me...

He rolls you over, encircling you wholly with his powerful frame. He is so massive that he dwarfs you twice, thrice over. You look down and your eyes widen, blood rushing to your cheeks; how is that going to fit?

In an effort to slow him down, you ask him again, "how did this happen, love? You couldn't tell me before, would you tell me now?"

He sighs, a massive huff of breath that seems to scold you for disrupting his conquest of you.

It is no curse, that much you do not have to fear.

"If it is no curse, then what happened? Love, this is hardly natural, unless I am missing something important?" You laugh a little, nervously, wishing for him to assuage your anxiety.

He simply stares down at you with those bottomless golden eyes, concocting some explanation that will appease you.

How would you react, he wonders, if he told you he told you he is in fact Lord of Beasts and Werewolves, able to take on any form he wishes? Or would you prefer a simple lie, or the wiping of it from your mind altogether?

You are his wife, you are bound together in a way no force can sunder, you could not reject him if you tried. But he fears your disgust, would do anything to avoid it.

But the truth would set him free. No more lies, no more deception, he could truly be himself with you. The freedom that would afford, the burdens he would no longer have to carry alone.

So for once, he settles on the truth, mostly.

This is simply one of the forms I can take. You know I am no Elf, I can do things your kind could only dream of.

He nuzzles your neck, licking a long stripe up the sensitive flesh between your ear and your collarbone.

"I know that," you whimper, his rough tongue laving your throat, making your toes curl into the dirt. "But this is new, this is-" a whine escapes your lips as he nips at your neck- "unnatural."

You feel his song in the depths of your soul, how sweetly he pines for you. Your soul cannot help but answer, harmonising with his every touch, until you are squirming under his iron embrace, pupils blown, arousal overtaking you quicker than it ever has before.

*******

His massive limbs cage you in, and panic begins to set in again; surely your husband would never hurt you, but in this state you weren't sure he had the control to keep his nature at bay.

"I need to know-" You brace against him, trying with all your might to release yourself from his roaming tongue, rasping over your skin; sharp teeth snared in your dress pull in one fluid motion and you're left bare under his gaze.

Need to know what, my pet? His tone is adoring as ever, but impatient; he knows what plagues your thoughts and he still isn't sure he wants you to know.

"Need to know... need to know who you are." You force out the words as he seeks out where to lick, where to bite, trying to swallow your pleas; he cocks his head, as if your question is a mystery.

You know who I am, love. His length begins to prod at you insistently, and you clench your thighs together, nervous at the thought of him claiming you like this, stalling for time even as the melody of his fëa seduces you.

"No... no, I don't think I do," You pant, fingers clutching at his neck, drawing him in and pulling him away, your body betraying your mind as you become more and more unsure of what you want from him.

"How? How can you change your face like that? Your entire being? I don't understand..." You trail off with a whine as he begins to worship your body with his tongue, covering your breasts with a swipe, dragging slowly lower until he finds your mound, gods you smell divine.

The bestial part of his mind begins to take over, ignoring your questioning, wrapped in the scent of you, the soft flesh under his tongue that he could so easily ruin with a drag of his teeth if he desired, your panting lips forming words that fall on deaf ears; the only sounds he now listens for are your moans and pleas.

"Mairon... I need to know..." You realise far too late that this is no longer your husband, and that the beast before you is going to rut you into the earth without pity.

Terror grips you, hand in hand with arousal, and the fresh wetness between your legs spurs him on, groaning at the scent of you, all he can think of as you writhe beneath him. You try to get a better look at the flesh that is about to ravage you, but it is hidden in his fur. Perhaps that is for the best, you muse, far-off in your thoughts now, waiting for him to ruin you.

He sniffs at the dampness between your thighs, a groan rumbling through him as he bears his sharp canines, dangerous and gleaming even in the dark of the night; perhaps especially so. Even with the forest at your fingertips, all you can smell is him, musk and smoke and iron, he smells like himself but stronger, every inch of him reeking of the man you love but more pungent, inescapable; a heady mix that does nothing to dispel the coil in your abdomen that he will delight to spring.

"My love, darling, please, Mairon..." you try every which way to get his attention, to bring him back to you.

You shiver as he laps at you, tasting you every which way, your nipples peaking as he runs his tongue over them before letting them chill in the night's cool breeze. He lowers himself slightly to wrap himself around you more completely, your soft skin now pressed against his thick fur, the perfect companion to stave off the chill.

You feel him pant against your neck, his thick length weeping against your legs, firmly pressed shut as you rock slightly to relieve the terrible pressure he has built in your clit.

You bury your face in the green foliage under your head, still pressing your thighs together as if he will yet be denied. He noses at your jaw, demanding your attention; pressing his long teeth against your throat, demanding your obedience.

The inhuman face gazing down on you does nothing to dispel the visceral fear that grips you. This is your husband, the man you love, whose soul you share; but none of this seems to matter now, as empty golden eyes stare you down, awaiting the inevitable.

Tears of fear begin to fall unbidden as your heart hammers in your chest, as you realise that despite every instinct in you telling you to run, you still want him, and he knows it.

The second you loosen your thigh muscles, he is there with his tongue, licking and sucking and making your toes curl. He is too rough, too fast, and before long a tiny nip at your clit sends stars behind your eyes, warmth exploding and cascading through you.

With you distracted at your peak, he takes his opportunity.

Hot breath on your face, soft fur under your fingers, giving you purchase, grounding you, a white hot pain at your mound-

Your scream echoes through the forest as he buries himself within you, no gentleness, just brutal force.

He allows you a moment to accommodate him, but it would take many more to truly adjust to his monstrous size. He pulls back, your tiny sigh of relief cut short as he thrusts back in, deeper, longer, stroking every inch of you.

You feel a tendril of his mind caress yours, and you reach for it, cling to it, make his power your own as you channel every intelligible thought into not being spilt apart.

As his power and your healing magic do their work, the blazing pain lessens, relieved to a dull ache, that only invites him to do his worst.

He would tear you apart, put you back together, over and over if he could. As he reaches the height of his pleasure, he is merciless, rutting you like a mindless animal, emptying and filling you quicker than you can draw breath, gasping around the sheer inhuman size of him.

And you enjoy it.

As the pain recedes, all you can think is of his cock filling you over and over, tongue rasping everywhere he can reach, guttural groans punctuating every thrust, as you drag your nails down his forearms, desperate to ground yourself in any sensation not emanating from your heated core.

With an unearthly growl, his thick hot seed paints your insides, filling you to bursting, and the coil in your abdomen does indeed spring again; as he comes down from his own high, his mind returns to him piece by piece, and he realises what he has put you through. You quake around him, whimpering and clinging to him, nails deep in his heavily muscled back.

He licks the tears from your face gently, still engulfed in your wet heat, unwilling to be parted just yet. He rears up to get a look at how well you take him, to see how you stretch and mould for him.

That is all he wants after all, for you to be moulded by him, for him.

He nuzzles your neck as you lie exhausted underneath him.

Love... precious girl... my Uthaessel... did so well for me...

You give him a sleepy smile, idly running your fingers through the fur on his chest, suddenly overcome with the urge to sleep for a week.

When he can, he slips out of you, curling you into his side, as his seed drips between your thighs. He'll clean you up later, he thinks, but perhaps for now he'll just watch you sleep.

*******

When you wake, he has already transformed himself, smooth skin and golden hair that you love so much, but your sticky thighs remind you uncomfortably of what happened last night.

You crane your neck to look at him, to assure yourself it is really him. He gives you that same gentle adoring smile he always does; your heart melts as you can't help but return it, but your questions still plague you. He had never told you he could take the guise of a beast, and you worry that something wicked lies under that glorious visage.

"Mairon..." You try to keep your tone neutral, but he knows your heart too well.

"I know, love," he gathers you to him, resting his chin on your head. "Can we not? At least for now."

You do wonder whether to indulge him, but the suspicions gnawing at your gut will not cease.

"I want to know... I need to know what happened."

You expect him to fight you on it tooth and nail, but he vowed to himself last night, the truth would out. Mostly.

And so he tells you. His humiliation at the hands of Lúthien and Huan, his command over beasts and vampires, even where he really comes from. Your eyes widen and your breath shallows with each detail, reaching a crescendo as he tells you of Morgoth, his voice low as if his master could hear him even here.

"A servant of Morgoth?" You can't catch your breath, you've long stood up, pacing and wringing your hands more urgently the longer you let him speak.

"Why are you telling me this?" You stop still and ask sharply, making him wince at the tone you've never used on him before.

"You asked, my love," he looks confused, as if the truth weren't more horrifying than your husband simply liking to spend time in wolf's clothing.

"But why are you telling me now? You could have continued your vile deception? Kept me in the dark?" Your stomach drops as you wonder aloud his intentions.

"You've had everything you wanted from me, that must be it. And now you tell me you are a servant of the Enemy-" your thoughts are interrupted as he now stands and moves to take your hands in his.

A churning fear overtakes your anger as you realise he is the one your people only speak of in hushed whispers, his very name accursed to the tongue: Sauron.

"You... you are the terror my people fear in these woods. You have plagued them, stolen them, and then you come to me and ply me with your sweetness and lies?"

"You misjudge me, my love. I will never stop wanting you," he implores, as he takes your face in his hand, willing you to be silent and listen.

"My appetite for you will never be sated, such is my devotion. I could never cast you aside, could never let you leave me." He sounds so damn sincere, your heart pleads with you to listen while your head tells you to run.

"You wanted the truth, so I gave it to you. If I did not think you could handle it, I would not have troubled you with such evils." His eyes search yours for any sign you understand his plight. "I told you my name, I never lied to you. But I could not tell you about Melkor in the beginning, how could I, when you would have scorned me?"

"You don't know that," you mutter, still shell-shocked, world in pieces, but offended by the accusation all the same.

"If this is your reaction, then I am sure you would."

"Are you blaming me? Lies by omission are still lies!" Your indignation stirs you a little, your mind screaming at you to fight back.

He does you the courtesy to look mollified slightly, before grasping your hands once more, tracing circles in your palm with his thumb.

"Amarië, my sweet, even your name is too good for me, how could I have won you if you had known the company I am forced to keep?"

It's that imploring look, the gentle tone, and-

"Forced? What do you mean, forced?" Even in your shell-shocked anger, the notion of your husband forced to do anything hurts you deeply.

"I hardly serve Him willingly, my love, no one does. His will is..." he searches for the right word, the word that will convince you, "insurmountable."

You take a deep breath through your nose, finding nothing in your mind but the sweet scent of smoke and musk and iron, the scent of your husband that softens your heart once more.

Your deep exhale releases much of the tension within you; of course, he is but an unwilling participant in Morgoth's designs, of course.

"This is your one chance, Mairon, you have one chance to tell me everything, no lies, no deceit." You raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to argue, but he simply sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I have done, love, you know everything."

"No. Details, and lots of them, now."

It takes from sunrise to sunset, but he tells you everything. How Morgoth seduced him to his will; how He alone has the power to change Middle Earth in the way your lover has planned; how Sauron realised far too late that His destruction was not the balance he craved.

"And you cannot leave Him?" Your voice is hoarse after so much time spent listening, but you have to ask.

Sauron grimaces, an expression that twists his pretty face, makes it almost unrecognisable.

"One does not simply leave Melkor's service." His tongue picks over the words carefully, watching for your reaction.

"Morgoth." You interject, "his name is Morgoth." After all the heartbreak and destruction He has wrought on your kind, you cannot stand to hear his divine name spoken once more.

"Forgive me, love, it is... difficult to break the habit when He himself would flay me for even thinking the name your people have given him." He cannot help but smirk a moment when your face drops, and you reach for him as if to comfort him.

He takes you in his golden embrace, holding you tightly as if you'd leave him the moment you were free.

"I was so afeared that you would reject my affections, I could not possibly tell you, and as time passed, I could not bear to ruin what we share." He nuzzles your neck affectionately, as if he has already won you over.

You are so torn, your heart and head fighting a losing battle. If he truly is an unwilling accomplice, then he needs you now more than ever to face the darkness. But the darkness was a terror you never planned on witnessing in all its treachery.

It is a long time before you can forgive his lies, but the truth will indeed set you both free.

[princessfbi]

Do you still write for buddie or are you exclusively a bucktommy writer?

I write, as I always have, whatever brings me joy.

I'm going to say something and this is not directed at you Nonnie. It's just something I've needed to get off my chest and you've unfortunately opened the door. This is something that's been happening since the moment I "deviated" from what other people have been demanding.

Fanfic is not my job. Creating content is not my job. Crafting your escapism is not my responsibility.

I write for me. I write what I want to write and when I want to write it. I am not a machine. I am not getting paid. I am not here serve to the masses. The sheer entitlement some people have had these last few months has been exhausting. When we, the authors, see you talk about how we've "forsaken" you or you talk about how you can't understand what it is we see in something you personally don't want to read? The answer is simple: it's because we like it. It's because it brings us joy. It's because it's not fucking about you.

My fanfic is about me.

Let's look at the timeline of my works:

Most recent going down.

Bucktommy

Tumblr prompts which include Bucktommy, Buddietommy, and Buddie

Buddie

Buddietommy

Bucktommy

Buddie

Bucktommy

All of that has been written post 7x04.

Do you know how many words I have written for Buddie?

1,558,689 Words.

Over a million words have been dedicated to Buddie.

So excuse me for doing something else that may also bring me joy. Excuse me for having the audacity to not cater to your every whims and pleasure. Fanfics are a form of escapism. I get it. But this is not my job. This is not a Starbucks. I do not owe you anything and to imply otherwise just shows how much you truly do not value it. Half of you can't even be bothered to leave a comment. You spit in the face of people's joy and you have been cruel, mean spirited, and unkind. All of you.

I am a person with wants and needs including a moment of goddamn peace in this shit show of a world we find ourselves in. I am entitled to curating and creating my own form of joy. I am a person. I should not have to beg you to see that. And the fact that these last few months people cannot and will not acknowledge that makes me not want to write for Buddie ever again.

I'm going to because that is my joy. I am making the choice to share it with the world. But it will be on my terms. Because what I write is about me. It is for me.

So if that means I write for Bucktommy or Buddie or some entirely different show or movie that catches my attention then it will be because I have decided I want to do it. Not anyone else.

[woodohwanedandproud]

@bourbonthesecond #hot girl summer hjw is one of his best looks #look at this slut always drawing attention to his mouth and his hair @cringelock #slight (and i do mean slight) dishevelment as a representation that he’s lost his damn manners and his mind @couriernine #right before his “i have got to get sluttier” realization @backtoyunmeng #joowon: i've had it! i've had it! i'm packing my LV bag and i'm running AWAY #*runs away to a 5 star hotel* #and gives the address to his nanny #i mean hyuk @juwonahfication #when british joowon said Like I Care #i still can’t believe this was his rebellion/vacation lol #like go somewhere warm or at least do something fun omg @vegaseatsass #episode 10 was a 10/10 for me just a perfect 10 truly #han ju-won gets a makeover to impress a boy and where does it lead both of them? #oh you know. suffering. devastation. the horrors @siegedeacon #look at him #dumb of ass and bitch of face #we need a word for a mean himbo #love a man who always gets up and tries again and ends up failing every time anyways @made-in-rivendell #The attitude here @waitingforminjae #let's hot girl winter in busan !!!!! @cafedecanela #his winter SNAP #his hot mess december @sleevebuscemii #best time skip of all time tbh he said im back i got a perm and im cuntier than ever before @loisroo #he’s just so *gestures dramatically* #like he gets it #there are days when you just drink a glass of champagne in the morning #also yeo jingoo is such a good actor @katierosefun #he's so . . . . . #joo won in this whole episode was something else #pouty angry baby who's still trying to get over an ex he wasn't even actually dating #drinking champagne in the morning and making pouty sad faces #this boy listens to all too well (ten minutes) on loop #and then swings right into 'good 4 u' by olivia rodrigo like the dramatic bitch he is #also the first gif . . . . boy put your tongue back in your mouth #also god. . . . he just. #joo won has such a nice face. #it's funny seeing joo won bc if you've seen yeo jin goo's interviews #he seems like such a sweet happy guy #and then what was it shin ha kyun said? #'yeo jin goo is a very warm person but as soon as the cameras turn on he glares daggers at me' or something #look at him . . . . brat. bratty boy. love. #he's my loser he's my son he's my bff he's me #joo won with his tongue in the first gif . . . #yeo jin goo knew what he was doing he understands han joo won so deeply #(han joo won: [still pissed at dong sik]) #(han joo won: [does THAT]) #he was so dramatic #but also i kinda felt bad for him #but like. it's funny because this one scene radiated so much 'i am SAD i am SUFFERING from a BREAK UP' #'NO we weren't dating but IT STILL FEELS LIKE A BREAK UP OKAY >:(' @annundriel #i cannot @soulsung #he's my boy #also i want to be him #and wear like all of his outfits @sugarbabywenkexing / @courtesyname (prev) #he just had to touch a poor person…please respect him in this difficult time #<- hasjfdkgh what a tragic end to sad rich boy winter

Who says it’s over? Yeo Jin-goo as Han Joo-won BEYOND EVIL | 괴물 EP 10

[aayakashii]

Kinda had a funny thought about the tdb boys and tucking their hair behind their ears in the cheesiest way possible, either invoking a reaction of disgust or shock (or maybe some of them are into it idk)

(Characters of your choice, I just imagine it to be silly :3c)

OKAY THIS WOULD BE SO FUNNY because I think almost none of them would have a normal reaction 😭

Doesn't understand why you're doing this. Absolutely neutral, doesn't see it as anything special. Might like it, but it's no big deal.

Luca, Lyca, Jiro

Doesn't understand why you're doing this, but kinda like it actually........ maybe likes being touched....... maybe keep touching him......

Tohma, Sho, Alan (he does have to fight many conflicting emotions but he likes it regardless lol)

Absolutely disgusted. Do it again.

Leo, Jin

Absolutely disgusted. Stay away from him.

Romeo, Yuri (doesn't actually want you to stay away, but will never ask you to do it again either)

Yells SEXUAL HARRASSMENT from the top of his lungs.

Ritsu, Ren

Cries himself to sleep after being touched.

Kaito, Zenji

Leans into your touch like a cat and holds your hand firmly, effectively trapping you with him forever and ever. You cannot escape him now.

Taiga, Towa

Acts like this image and feels like a princess, immediately starts flirting too

Haku, Rui, Ed

Ends up sleeping IMMEDIATELY after feeling just midly relaxed against your touch.

Haru

[moonybelgug]

warnings: !MDNI! afab!reader, implied pegging, i write whatever i can’t stop thinking about and this time it’s Sunday sucking on a strap and then i lost the plot.(ᵕ—ᴗ—)

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Sunday, as he brings his lips to the tip of the faux phallus, maintaining eye contact as it passes through his lips, filling up his cheeks.

You can't help but caress the adorably round curve of his face and even though his suction does little to pleasure you, just the sight of him with his cheeks stuffed full, that worshipful look in his eyes is enough to get you off.

He takes his time, using his tongue and taking the toy deeper with each lave of the soft muscle until he simply can't anymore, halfway to where it meets your hips. You caress his hair and praise him when he looks up at you, his eyelashes heavy with tears from the stretch of his cheeks and you guide him off of it, leaving the plastic warm and wet, his spit sticking to his lips.

You meet in a kiss, unable to stay away from his lips for too long, and his unexperienced mouth struggles to keep up with your own in this field, but his soft laughter and gentle gasps are enough to keep the dance going, until he pulls away for a chance to breathe. You give him little reprieve. How could you? The angelic being before you, on his hands and knees, soft and warm in tangled sheets, beautiful as the stars shine into your room with him. How could you ever let him go? Foreplay lasts hours with the two of you simply because you cannot stray from his face (much to his annoyance.)

Sunday is teased mercilessly, but he is forgiving and sends to sympathize with your plight though he may not understand it. He tries to cover his face with his wings, something that you obviously hated. So you move down, getting the hint and giving him attention elsewhere. He peaks at you from between the feathers, watching you descend his pale, lithe, body with your lips, his hips aching for some friction, only for you to catch a glimpse of his eyes and return to his lips.

It’s going to be a long night.

[dalliansss]

There is a pause.

“In five days we will change roads,” Celegorm says. “We will proceed to Amon Ereb. I doubt Caranthir has enough stock resources in Dolmed to host what remains of our people.”

Maedhros looks at his brothers through the palantir . He trails a gold-mithril finger over the chipped rim of his cup. “No. Proceed to Nargothrond.”

“ Nargothrond? ” Celegorm repeats. “ Why ?”

“Because the Noldor took a devastating blow from Moringotto’s surprise assault,” Maedhros continues. “We have to regroup as efficiently as possible, and the more important concern is someone has to secure the Western Treasury .”

“So? Why the hell are you sending us to Nargothrond ? Ingoldo is there!”

“I do not know if you have received the intel,” Maedhros says, ignoring Celegorm’s protest. “But the first Noldorin stronghold to burn under the fire was Dorthonion. None survived. None , do you understand? Angrod, Aegnor and all of their people are lost.”

Celegorm and Curufin exchanged looks. Both briefly offer a silent bow. Their families have long splintered, but the memory of the elves are long and undimmed, and there had been a time in their faraway youths where Finrod and Angrod had joined their family for summers in Formenos. 

“Ingoldo does not take to that kind of grief well,” Maedhros says, watching his brothers through the palantir . His scarred, gaunt face betrays nothing, but both Celegorm and Curufin are painfully aware that the cogs and wheels of Maedhros’s brilliant mind are ever-spinning. “Of our family he has been among the most sheltered and most beloved. This kind of grief will break him, if he does not have the right support at the crucial time. The Noldor cannot afford to lose the wealth of Nargothrond to the orcs of Angband.”

Curufin’s lips press into a line. “Nargothrond is more than its treasures.”

Maedhros takes several sips of his wine. “Certainly, Curvo. You have been having an affair with our cousin even before the Sun and the Moon arose in the sky. Surely you would prefer to be his succor now that he has lost his two most beloved brothers. He raised Aegnor, and as good as Aegnor’s father. We cannot afford to lose Ingoldo to grief.”

Curvo’s face goes purple. True that he has done all these things, but there is something in the creepy, very calm and nonchalant way Maedhros reminds him of his…indecent acts…that makes the fifth son of Fëanor uneasy and ashamed every time.

Maedhros sets aside his cup. “Stay on your road. Take yourselves and the survivors of Himlad to Nargothrond.”

“We don’t even know where Sunshine built his Eru-forsaken realm!” Celegorm exclaims.

“Go to the Narog,” Maedhros says. “And poke into every badger-hole you can find. I am sure one of those holes will have the door to Nargothrond.” Here, his lips twitch into a hint of a smile. Then he turns to Curufin. “If Orodreth survived the chaos at Minas Tirith, he would have rejoined Ingoldo by now. That pitiful excuse for an elf is one of my main concerns why I’m sending you to Ingoldo’s side instead. Orodreth does not have Angrod’s strength and decisiveness. Ingoldo will need strength in these times. Help our cousin. Secure the Western Treasury. Ensure that the likes of Nínimben, Dúlindaer, and Trichon do not wrest power they have never deserved for themselves.”

[ashes / AO3/ Part 15 of Noldorin Finances]

[sergeantneko]

Hi there! I'm Neko, and I found your post as a reblog from a friend of mine. I've played all of the 3D zelda games, and I write fanfics for the series. I'll answer these as best I can!

1: I've never really thought about it, but if I were to do so, I would put Skyward Sword in Spring, Breath Of The Wild in Autumn, Ocarina of Time in Summer, and Twilight Princess in winter.

2: Assuming you mean 2D as pixelated. I haven't played any of the 2D retro titles (pretty much any of the pixelated ones), however I have played all of the 3D top-down ones. I'm gonna pick one of those, if that's okay? Defo either Link Between Worlds or Spirit Tracks.

3: Skyward Sword! She's SO FRICKIN' CUTE.

4: That's a really hard one. Of the ones I've played, I'd say Phantom Hourglass.

5: I cannot justify picking just one soundtrack, so I'll pick out a few of my favourites instead. Colgera's battle theme (ToTK), Ganon's battle theme (OoT, That 23/16 time signature is insane and I love it), Yuga Ganon battle theme (ALBW, same reason, song is set to 7/8 time signature and it's just as insane), Tarrey Town theme (BoTW), Tal Tal Heights (Link's Awakening Remake), and so many more that elude me.

6: Nope! Bring it on, I love a challenge!

7: There are too many to list, but there is one that I love that others don't. That being the Water Temple from Ocarina of Time. Most people hate it because it's confusing, but I saw it as an experience. And that experience was fucking good, for me anyway.

8: Spirit Tracks for sure. The music, the story, I love it. The controls are not fun, and using the flute was fun if flawed, but everything else makes that tolerable.

9: Hmmmm... I'm gonna go with Tingle on this one.

10: The hookshot! It can get you to many places, and it has been a staple in traditional zelda games! So fun shooting it out and then zipping to the place it sticks.

11: That ones a toss up. I love all of his incarnations. I think Wind Waker is top due to him actually having some sort of humanity. He just wanted what was best for his people, and I can understand his plight. However, the way he went abouy it was wrong.

12: Ocarina of Time. It was the first Zelda game I ever played. And I was enthralled the entire time. Since then, I have managed to play every 3D Zelda game up to now, and it's my favourite franchise.

13: Breath of The Wild. The character designs and lore is incredible. Not much more to say there, really. Nintendo did an amazing job with this entry, and the one after it too.

14: Master Sword. No question.

15: Gerudo Desert, specifically the one from Breath of The Wild.

16: I don't really have one, they're all great.

17: Twilight Princess. It's my favourite in the series for a reason, and atmosphere is a big factor.

18: Again, Twilight Princess. Quite the dark game, especially in contrast to other entries.

19: Same as above, for the same reasons.

20: Same as above.

21: Skyward Sword! The painterly style is fucking awesome. If you're further away from an object, the shader makes the object look watercolored. They improved that effect in the HD remaster on switch, and it's beautiful.

22: I don't really have a favourite. They're all good!

23: Spiritual Stones please.

24: Either Ocarina of Time or Twilight Princess for items.

25: Midna.

26: Spirit Tracks.

27: Breath of The Wild. Mainly cause it pertains to being a breath of fresh air for the series as a whole with it being open world, and the whole place being mostly wilderness at this point.

28: Skyward Sword, up to a point.

29: Hookshot!

30: Ocarina of Time title theme.

31: City In The Sky from Twilight Princess. The entire dungeon is the "I am confusion" gif.

32: Breath of the Wild.

33: Mix of both. It wouldn't be a Zelda game without either.

34: Hmmm... That's a tough one. I think overall I might have had the most trouble with the second Ganon battle that takes place within Hyrule Castle in Echoes of Wisdom.

35: I didn't really have much issue with any of them except for Demise in Skyward Sword. Took me a little while to learn his patterns.

36: that one's between Twilight Princess and Skyward Sword. Both cinematic games, and both incredible in their own way.

37: I have no idea. If I had to give an answer, the Likelike's are weird.

38: The Dead Hand, as well as the ReDeads and Gibdos from Ocarina of Time. Both EXTREMELY creepy.

39: Echoes of Wisdom.

40: Tingle.

41: I have three. Song of Storms, Serenade of Water, and Requiem of Spirit.

42: The Couple's Mask.

43: Goron Mask.

44: The Anju and Kafei quest.

45: Tarrey Town.

46: Skyward Sword HD

47: Each game fulfills something different for me, and so I can't say that any one game is the most fulfilling for me.

48: I love the one incorporated in Breath of The Wild and Tears of The Kingdom. Amazing shading style that blends Cel shading with semi-realistic graphics.

49: Fairy.

50: Modern Hylian Shield, BoTW and ToTK style.

Hope this gives a little bit of insight into my views on the series!

🌟 TLOZ asks 🌟

1. Is there a Zelda game(s) that you associate with each season or time of year?

2. Favourite 2D title?

3. Favourite incarnation of Zelda?

4. Least favourite entry in the series?

5. Favourite LOZ soundtrack?

6. Is there a Zelda game that intimidates you/looks too hard?

7. Favourite dungeons?

8. Most underrated Zelda game?

9. Least favourite character in the series?

10. Favourite item?

11. Favourite Ganon characterization?

12. Which Zelda game has the most sentimental value to you?

13. What Zelda game, in your opinion, has the best character design?

14. Master Sword, the Four Sword, Great Fairy's Sword, the Koholint Sword, or the Biggoron Sword?

15. Favourite location within Hyrule?

16. Favourite location outside of/parallel to Hyrule (Termina, Lorule, Holodrum, Subrosia, the Dark World, Labrynna, the Great Sea, etc)?

17. Most atmospheric game?

18. Which Zelda game feels most mature to you?

19. Which Zelda game has the darkest story to you?

20. Favourite 3D title?

21. Prettiest Zelda game?

22. Favourite incarnation of Link?

23. The Pendants of Virtue, the Spiritual Stones, or the Goddess Pearls?

24. Game with most impressive/useful lineup of items?

25. Favourite companion (Midna, Ezlo, Navi, etc)?

26. Favourite handheld title?

27. Game with the best title (Breath of the Wild, Twilight Princess, Link's Awakening, etc)?

28. Most wholesome Zelda game?

29. Favourite item to use (aside from the sword & shield)?

30. Favourite title theme from a Zelda game?

31. Hardest dungeon played?

32. Game with the best map design?

33. Do you prefer puzzles or combat?

34. Game with the hardest boss?

35. Game with the hardest final boss?

36. Which game had the most engaging story, in your opinion?

37. Least favourite enemy?

38. Creepiest enemy?

39. Which Zelda game, in your opinion, had the most satisfying ending?

40. Most out-of-place thing in the series?

41. Favourite ocarina song?

42. Favourite non-transformation mask from Majora's Mask?

43. Favourite transformation mask from Majora's Mask?

44. Hardest sidequest in the series?

45. Best sidequest in the series?

46. Favourite remake/remaster (Ocarina of Time 3D, The Wind Waker HD, Link's Awakening for the Switch)?

47. Most fulfilling Zelda game?

48. Favourite graphical style within the games (cel-shading, realistic, 16-bit, etc)?

49. Favourite thing to keep in a bottle?

50. Favourite shield?

[shadowwolfmemes]

My blog is NOT a safe place for proshippers!!!

Hopefully, I won't have to repeat myself after this. If you're a proshipper/darkshipper and you come across my blog, make a graceful U-turn and simply GO FUCK YOURSELF!

I don't give a rat's rotting ass if you don't support pro-contact, I still cannot confide in people like you. Here's another thing that I don't understand about y'all. How are you going to call yourself 'anti-harassment' or complain that antis "harass" you, but then go around and interact with antis all willy-nilly to try to persuade them that they're in the wrong?

And no, most antis don't go out of their way to harass you. They mostly block the people they dislike so that the proshippers don't get the chance to interact. The ones that do interact with the people they dislike are just wasting their own time. I suggest that you don't waste your time with them either.

I hate proshippers, but I don't waste my time trying to convince y'all that what you're doing is wrong. That one time I had to interact is when I asked one of my followers if they're a proshipper or not (they were, so I blocked them). Call me a "bad person" for doing that if you like, I will stand by with what I did and I'm not actually sorry for blocking them. :)

Here are some examples of the most popular dogshit excuses they use to try to make themselves look as innocent as possible.

Excuse #1: "They're not real, so why does it bother you?"

It doesn't matter that the characters are fictional, it's still disgusting that people like you glorify illegal material like incest, pedophilia, abuser x victim, child porn, etc.

Excuse #2: "Fiction doesn't affect reality. It can't hurt you."

While it's true to some certain extent, the way it's used in this argument makes it worse. Again, it doesn't give you the excuse to worship pedophilia and other problematic ships that shouldn't be normalized. Fiction or not, some things shouldn't be shared at all.

Excuse #3: "This is just my coping mechanism."

I'm sorry, but this is one of thee most shittiest excuses I've ever heard in my life! In fact, the term 'excuse' is too kind for this. What's another word to describe this bullshit? Glorifying problematic ships is not a healthy way of coping. Why? Because you're manipulating your brain into thinking that whatever traumatic experience you went through should be romanticized. No normal person would do that to themselves and justify it.

Excuse #4: "If you don't like it, just block them."

I do. Like I previously said, I don't waste my time on these people. I want them to stay as far away from me as possible as much as I stay away from them. However, fantasies the proshippers have shouldn't be shared as a normal factor. It's okay to write about dark topics, what's NOT okay is romanticizing/normalizing it.

Before I close this off, I want to say that all of this applies to radqueers, too. Y'all are not slick, you're just as bad as proshippers!

Does this post offend you, proshippers? If it does, good! Y'all are NOT welcomed in my blog whatsoever and I will do anything in my power to make sure you don't get an opportunity to interact with me.

I'll say it one more damn time;

MY BLOG IS NOT A SAFE PLACE FOR PROSHIPPERS AND IT NEVER WILL. ANY PROSHIPPER/RADQUEER THAT INTERACTS WILL BE BLOCKED ON THE DOT.

GO CRY ME A RIVER, MOTHERFUCKERS! BOO-FUCKING-HOO! (This is directed towards the proshippers and radqueers).

[kedreeva]

I was looking through Spring Creek's fowl collection and am in love with the Peaches. Is there anything you can share about them? Are they like the white ones where the ladies arent impressed, or do they have the more usual luck

The peach don't seem to have a problem breeding!

Peach is actually (genetically speaking) one of the coolest color mutations out there. It's a sex-linked recessive, but it's NOT a single-factor mutation like any of the others. It's a combination of Cameo and Purple.

So the thing you have to understand is that the sex-linked mutations are all on the Z chromosome. Males have 2 Zs and females have 1 Z. To show a sex-linked recessive color in the phenotype, "All" Zs must have the mutation. A peach bird has 2 copies of the purple mutation, and 2 copies of the cameo mutation.

In autosomal mutations, this isn't a huge deal. If something has 2 different mutations, then they're just on different chromosomes. But.... cameo and purple are both on the Z. You can't move them from one Z to the other normally.

So if you have a male that's purple (Z^pl/Z^pl) and you breed him to a cameo hen (Z^c/w), the daughters get a Z from dad (Z^pl) and their w has to come from mom. So they're purple. The sons get a Z from dad (Z^pl) and a Z from mom (Z^c), making them wild type heterozygous for purple and heterozygous for cameo. The same is true if the parents are switched. You can only ever make single-color hens and wild type het males.

So what gives?

Chromosomal crossover!

During meiosis back about 20 years, a cameo or a purple moved to the opposite Z while the chromosomes were swapping tails, and a pair of purple/cameo birds produced a few birds that didn't look cameo or purple, and blue birds that carried the double-gened chromosome.

A few years after that, a group of pure cameos also produced peach- it's likely in this case that purple spontaneously mutated in this group. Purple has already mutated at least twice that we know of (purple and European violet are both "purple" by genes, but with very different phenotypes), and probably mutates more often than we think, given that it's most likely a simple dilute, like chocolate in mice.

Now, we have Z chromosomes that have both cameo and purple on them (Z^plc), which makes for a Peach bird. The two genes cannot be separated on purpose, but through the same process that put them together, may be undone back to separate chromosomes, or removed entirely. At Bill's, he has a blue bird who came from purple parents (at least according to records), which suggests that the more likely candidate for the gene that translocates easiest is purple.

It does make me wonder if EV is the result of something similar; of a chromosome that perhaps got More Purple added through crossover. I don't have the records to be able to tell for sure, and haven't been able to trace origins enough to find out how it started.

[kaysshifting]

no one, even the most experienced shifters, will ever have all the answers

so stop looking for all the answers

now, please don’t take this in a negative way, because it’s not at all

i think a lot of people are very left-brained when it comes to shifting, because.. why wouldn’t you be? shifting to another reality is something that we grew up seeing only in fiction (my little pony, narnia, alice in wonderland, peter pan, etc.. seriously, it’s a lot), also meaning that it’s something you think you aren’t able to achieve or have, because we are raised to “suck it up”, “pull yourself up by the bootstraps”, “deal with it” and so on, so it’s understandably hard to believe that you in fact can have everything you want, whenever you want. so, in turn, they feel the need to question everything about it

i’ll use an example i saw a while ago on tiktok i believe, and i don’t remember the creator so please let me know if you know who im talking about. think about shifting as driving a car, so i’ll use myself with this scenario

when i get in my car, i don’t know every mechanism in the car that makes it work. i just know that it works. i know how to drive, and i know how to get to my destination, but im not worried about the actual car itself, because i know it works.

does this make sense?

you don’t need to know every single thing about shifting to shift

i literally cannot repeat this enough. we do things every single day that we don’t know the inner mechanisms of, yet we still do it because we know. it. works.

stop worrying about all the little details and go SHIFT.

trust in yourself. trust in your consciousness. trust in the universe.