#i get the idea. but also i feel like i need to rewatch at least two more times to fully understand

[oh-meow-swirls]

i think this was funnier in my head.

[krashing-starz]

y'know when you watch a piece of media and your literary interpretation skills aren't quite up to par to fully understand everything but it still hits SO FUCKING HARD that you lowkey feel like you just chugged an energy drink?

[ohthepain]

.

[sansaorgana]

— THE SERPENT QUEEN

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Maia!Reader

SUMMARY — The Queen of The Southlands is Adar's prisoner in Mordor but her husband comes back to set her free. At least that is what they want other people to believe. In fact, they seek their revenge on the Lord Father of the Uruks and they certainly are up to no good.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The idea for this story started quite simple – Halbrand looks so hot in this episode that while rewatching I thought... what if he was like "set my wife free" instead of "let my people go"...? 🥵 And in the end the story grew much bigger plot-wise and it's quite long but I didn't want to split it in two parts because I feel like more interesting things are happening later in the story. 🙈🤣 The Reader is a Maia and she changes her forms but I did not describe how any of them look like except for a little detail that is a scar and I needed it for the plot. She is also a shape-shifter like her husband but she is known for being a serpent and she is referred to as (Y/N), which is her "Maia name" but I also gave her three other names, which are for her disguises and their meanings are explained in the fic. BTW there might be a second part to my Chrysalis fanfic! But I wanted to write something else first! 🦋

WARNINGS — Reader is not a good person, mentions of Morgoth's past abuse (towards her, Mairon and Adar), Reader is being beaten by the Orcs as their prisoner (she is a Maia, though, so it doesn't really damage her or anything... but still!), brief mentions of other prisoners dying (including children), Reader has a scar on her chest/breast, shape-shifting into a snake (can it be a tw?)

WORD COUNT — 8,500 (🙈)

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE SERPENT QUEEN

“Where did Halbrand’s wife ever learn how to use a sword?” Galadriel wondered after watching your little performance to show her that you indeed could pick the freshly forged weapon up and wield it.

You panicked at first, not knowing what to say, therefore you laid your eyes on your husband who was leaning on the wall with a smirk as he watched you. His tanned muscles, dirty from the forge’s grease, flexed in a very appealing manner as he smirked. After all, he was the master of deception, therefore you hoped he would come up with a good lie.

“That is how I fell in love with her, don’t you know?” He chuckled and shook his head, winking at you. “I started a tavern brawl once and there she was, showed up out of nowhere and pressed a knife to my throat, telling me to get out of her father’s tavern. She kicked my arse although I admit, I let her,” he added and you rolled your eyes.

“Bollocks,” you snorted at that. “Keep lying to yourself, Hal.”

Galadriel smiled at the story, however she remained vigilant.

“That does not answer my question,” she pointed out but you already felt more comfortable with lying since your husband had prepared the soil for it.

“My grandfather was a knight,” you told her. “A poor one that had been given some of his own land but he lost nearly all of his humble fortune because of gambling. He kept his sword, though, and I was his only grandchild. My old man never learnt how to wield it nor was interested in it but I picked it up quite fast. My grandfather was hesitant at first since I was a girl but he eventually gave in and taught me,” you added to make the story more believable. Galadriel, however, looked a little stunned while you grew frustrated. “Listen here, Elf, human women are stronger and more independent than you think. In the village not so far away from ours, there is this woman… Annie’s her name, am I right, Hal?” You looked at your husband with another made up lie.

“Aye, hard–headed Annie,” he nodded and Galadriel raised an eyebrow.

“She is a carpenter’s widow and when ol’ John died, Annie was left with nothing. She learnt the craft in a year and re-opened the workshop,” you told her and Galadriel seemed to be a little surprised but did not comment any further.

“Well, alright then, knight’s granddaughter,” she challenged you as she raised her own sword slightly to point its sharp tip at you. “Show me how you fight now. Holding the sword and waving it around is one thing but dueling with me is another,” she walked out of your house and you swallowed thickly, squeezing the sword’s hilt.

“Don’t overdo it,” Mairon squeezed your arm when you were on your way out. He leaned in to hiss it into your ear as he shot you a warning glance. “(Y/N), I mean it. Let her win in the end.”

You looked deep into his eyes without hiding your frustration and anger. 

“Oh? You think I would defeat her? Have you forgotten already?!” You snapped at him, lowering aggressively your white blouse from underneath your corset with your free hand to show him a scar on your breast.

The scar Lady Galadriel had left there the very last time you had duelled with her back in the First Age during the battle where she had known you under a different name and profession, which was one of Morgoth’s Lieutenants. The wound had been inflicted with a steel from Valinor and its pure light had damaged your physical form forever – no matter what shape you took, your form always had a scar in the very same spot.

Your husband looked at the scar and chuckled at the sight of it, which annoyed you further.

“Just go and do your thing but don’t make her suspicious,” he said and you fixed your blouse before following Galadriel outside but not without giving him a scolding look.

Mairon walked out of the building as well and leaned on another wall now but this time in the shadow of the building’s roof where he was able to watch your duel with the Lady of Light.

“Do not fret, it is but a friendly sparring,” she smiled at you.

“I don’t fret,” you emphasised and charged at her.

You were trying to keep your rage at bay and despite the centuries since your previous fight, you quickly found your rhythm again that resembled a gracious dance of two fierce ladies. Feeling your husband’s gaze upon you, not without feeling frustrated and humiliated, you stumbled a few times and let out a few groans of effort to look more human and less experienced than you truly were, hesitating here and there before making the next move even though it had been calculated and planned already.

The Númenorian commoners living on the same street as you and your husband these days froze in the middle of the pavement and abandoned their daily errands to watch the sparring between two foreigner women and what fascinated them the most was how this extraordinary duel was between a human and an Elf. But what they did not know was the fact that the fight in front of their eyes was even more special than they realised.

It was a fight between two old enemies and none of them was mortal. A duel between the Lady of Light, Commander of the Northern Armies of High King Gil-Galad and the Serpent Queen – the only female Lieutenant of Morgoth and then Sauron’s right hand and wife. You had been enemies with her for long centuries now and even in the songs and legends you had always been put against one another. However, that was something even she did not know of at the moment.

You finally landed on the ground, your shoulder blades hitting the pavement as you dropped your sword. She would probably win either way, which was something you had to admit to your own self bitterly, however this time you allowed it to happen much quicker than usual. The way you fell down on the ground hurt your human flesh, therefore you let out a whine and Galadriel’s eyes widened slightly. She visibly felt bad about the fierceness in which she had defeated you despite assuring you of the friendly nature of this sparring.

But throughout the fight you could feel her frustration growing when she had realised you were better than she had been expecting.

“Are you quite alright?” She asked, reaching out towards you with his hand. “You fought well. Your style reminds me of someone very powerful I had once known… Your grandfather must have been a grand knight.”

“I am fine,” you drawled out through your gritted teeth and grabbed her hand, allowing her to help you stand up while you picked up the sword from the ground. The people watching on the pavement were slowly going back to running their daily errands. “Do you think my skills are enough to fight the Orcs?” You asked, innocently.

“Yes, I think so,” Galadriel nodded with a furrowed brow and looked behind you to meet your husband’s gaze. “If your husband allows it, that is.”

“I don’t need his permission for anything,” you shrugged your arms.

“Of course,” Galadriel smiled softly. “But I’m sure Halbrand here would not want to lose you, Maira.”

“I’m not worried about that,” he approached you two and stood behind you before wrapping his strong arm around your waist. “She’s invincible, that woman,” he leaned in to kiss your cheek and you giggled. “My woman,” he added and you patted his arm playfully.

Galadriel kept smiling gently at the two of you. She was very glad her plan was working out and of course you had been making sure it would. Your husband had been playing the role of a man who wanted to have nothing to do with his heritage and you played the role of an insisting wife, motivating her man to do the right thing. A classic, old tale.

“The Southlands will prosper under your rule, of that I am sure,” Galadriel whispered with hope in her voice. “King Halbrand and Queen Maira. Your bloodline will be the bloodline of the great and righteous kings.”

“And queens,” you winked at her with a chuckle.

About that one thing you agreed with her, actually – The Southlands would prosper under your rule.

You would heal it, after all. And then you would be moving along to heal more realms and lands. Until all of Middle-earth would be nothing but perfect.

You were not sure if the volcano exploding was part of your husband’s plan. It probably was but as usual he had not told you everything and it frustrated you greatly. Either way, you had no time to discuss it with him as the dust and fire began to cause chaos and destruction. As the (self-proclaimed) Queen of The Southlands, you busied yourself with pretending to be a protector of your subjects, helping women and children to seek shelter.

The darkness and disarray made it possible for all the Orcs to break free and begin their slaughter as well. And somewhere amongst the messy battle, you were suddenly thrown on the ground with all force and attacked by the filthy creatures you had once led to the battlefield yourself.

Therefore, you knew perfectly well everything about how they were fighting and how they were thinking. Surrounded by darkness and chaos you could show the true potential of your abilities since Galadriel could not see you and find them suspicious. This way, you slayed quite a few Orcs but there were too many of them charging at you and, eventually, they kicked the sword out of your hand and held you by your hair, throwing your head back to expose your neck for the dirty blade of the biggest one amongst them.

“Mairon,” you called for him with your mind. You needed a rescue – you did not want to lose this flesh, which would separate you from your husband for another few centuries.

You had been patiently waiting for his return, hiding away from the Valar who wanted to find and judge you. If you lost your flesh now like he had once lost his, you would have to be away from him for a few more centuries. What a cruel fate it would be but perhaps that was the way for the gods to punish you from afar.

And how ironic it would be if you lost your wife because of the Orcs like your husband had once lost his as well. 

“Mairon!” You called for him again when the Orc’s blade moved closer to your neck.

Your husband, however, was busy fighting and perhaps he didn’t even sense your calling. There was only one thing you could do to save your flesh now, although it risked losing your disguise.

The human colour of your eyes subdued slowly and you allowed your pupils to narrow unnaturally as if you were a snake while one side of your human face swelled with thick, black blood flowing in your veins. The Orcs took a step back and looked at each other, confused. You quickly went back to your ordinary and innocent look, though, making them believe they had just experienced some sort of mirage.

They were only descendants of the ones who had been fighting by your side all the centuries ago before your army had turned their backs on you, leaving you in the middle of the battlefield to die from the wound Galadriel had inflicted upon you. Therefore, they could not remember you.

But, perhaps, the legend of the Serpent Queen was still being told between a father and a son amongst the Orcs. Amongst the Elves you were known as Lókë, too, just like your husband was known as Sauron. The Serpent and The Abhorred.

“I am Maira, Queen of The Southlands,” you breathed out the name of your human disguise to the Orcs, pretending to be as desperate as proud. “I am more valuable to you alive,” you added.

They were grunting between each other some things in the Black Speech, which you could understand perfectly but you pretended you could not. Finally, they agreed to let Adar decide your fate and you clenched your jaw at the mention of his name.

The one who had betrayed you and your husband. The one who had ordered the Orcs to leave you out to die in the battlefield where you had been fighting at the same time Mairon had been coronating himself. The war with the Elves had kept you apart on the day so important but you had been trying to remain hopeful – to win him a battle as his coronation gift and get your own coronation ceremony shortly after.

In fact, your husband had promised you that yours would be much grander and more beautiful if you had to have two separate ones. His had been supposed to be a humble one but yours would be the most breathtaking and splendid.

And after nearly coughing your lungs out after being wounded and naively left alone to die as if you were an ordinary mortal, you had crawled out of the battlefield, leaving a bloody trail behind you. And when you had arrived at your fortress, all you had found was Mairon’s dead body.

Knowing he would eventually come back to you, you focused on healing yourself and hiding from the outside world since now you had no army and no husband by your side, meanwhile the Valar had been searching for you. And all this time, you had been tempted to find Adar and seek your revenge but you knew your husband would not be happy that you had taken this from him. He had been the one personally slain by Adar, therefore the vengeance was his to take.

The Orcs put the shackles around your wrists and dragged you behind them to some shed where you were supposed to wait. And while you were on your way there, you finally heard him.

“(Y/N)?” You sensed a panic in his tone. “We are leaving, I am faking an injury. Where are you?”

“Go, Mairon,” you answered. “I am their prisoner and I am sure you can make an advantage of it,” you assured your husband with your mind. He was not replying for a while as if he was thinking about a new scheme.

“I will be back,” he only assured you after a while and you smirked to yourself.

“I know.”

Beaten and bruised, hair full of mud and dried out blood, you were dragged in shackles alongside other human prisoners and you were given no special treatment due to your status. Of course, despite the unpleasant experience of your human form, none of that could truly affect you because you were not bound to your flesh. 

If you truly were who you were claiming to be – a human common woman Maira – you would be long dead now, of that you were sure. In fact, you could see some of the humans dying out of exhaustion or injuries and they were mostly women and children.

Each time they were feeling worse, like the true Queen of The Southlands, you were begging for mercy and for help. And each time you were punished for that but of course nothing could damage your flesh permanently – except for pure Elven steel that represented the light of Valinor… but the Orcs did not possess such weapons, naturally.

They worked on some sort of a primitive settlement for themselves and the humans were required to help them. As a woman you were given a bit lighter jobs around and you were performing them although you wondered when would Adar finally grace you with an audience as you were gritting your teeth and wondering where your husband was and what was he doing.

And, finally, one day, while working alongside others, you spotted Lord Father taking a walk around the camp. He was talking to a few Orcs and nodding his head at their reports. 

You lifted your head up and Adar turned around this very moment as if he felt some sort of a connection between you two. Your eyes met and he tilted his head slightly when you were giving him a hateful look before going back to work.

After a short while, you were being beckoned over by the Orcs to approach them and Adar.

“You!” One of them called in his filthy, raspy voice. “Queen of The Southlands,” he addressed you with irony. “Come ‘ere, Your Majesty,” he emphasised the title as the rest laughed.

You straightened your back and walked up to them as much as the collar around your neck attached to a chain allowed you to. It was not enough, so Adar took a few steps ahead to stand closer to you and examine your face. You could feel your hatred for him growing and making your fists clench around nothing.

“What do they call you, Your Majesty? I believe your name has escaped me,” he started.

“Maira, my Lord,” you remained polite to pose as a person full of dignity no matter what circumstances were.

“Maira…” Adar hummed to himself and furrowed his brows. “The name sounds oddly familiar to me.”

Of course it did, what an idiot, you thought. You named your human disguise after your husband’s true name. And perhaps it had been a mistake, you had just realised.

“Named after my great-grandmother, I was,” you nodded at him. “I wanted to talk to you for a while now, actually. About the way you treat my people here. They need more food and water, better shelters at night, especially children,” you continued your play-pretend. “But I don’t think you want to talk to me about that, am I right?” You sighed.

“My children work as hard as your people. We all start with nothing here,” Adar pointed out and you clenched your jaw at his words.

“Yet your children walk freely and we have collars around our necks,” you told him.

“There is a price one must pay for being defeated,” he pointed out and lowered his gaze at the place where your blouse was torn, revealing a small part of your scar.

Adar furrowed his brows and lowered your blouse down with his cold finger as a shiver travelled down your spine and your heart began to pounder.

“My husband would kill you for that, my Lord,” you threatened but he ignored you.

“Where did you get a scar like this? I’ve seen you back there on the battlefield and you fought well, my Queen,” he addressed you with sarcasm, of course, “and you seemed to be experienced in combat.”

“The scar is not from any combat and I’ve been taught how to fight by my grandfather, he was a knight,” you answered his question but he kept staring at your scar and tilting his head. Was it possible that he could sense the source of the old wound? He was an Elf after all and what had poisoned you forever now was made out of Valinor’s light. “Aye, my Lord, the scar is from my past when I was a very young maiden and didn’t listen to my mama as I wandered around the woods on my own. Don’t worry, I defended myself and you should see the other guy,” you chuckled nervously and Adar finally raised his eyes to meet your gaze but he still looked unconvinced.

One of the Orcs approached him as he kept staring at you suspiciously. He whispered something into Adar’s ear and you could hear the word serpent as you realised that the same Orc had been one of those who had captured you before.

Adar nodded at him and laid his eyes upon you once more, this time even more intrigued than a moment earlier.

“My children claim you pulled a magic trick on them,” he pointed out and you had a feeling that denying it would only make it look worse for you, so you came up with another excuse.

Actually, you realised that lying was not such a difficult craft. So far, you had been mostly relying on your husband to prepare the soil for your deceptions but now, when he was not around to help, you found out it was not that hard to do it on your own.

“My grandmother was a witch, they say,” you remarked.

“You seem to be coming from a very interesting bloodline,” Adar smirked and you sighed.

“You want to talk about my ancestors, my Lord? Sure, why not. I feel myself invited for dinner then, but is it not rude to keep your guests in shackles?” You raised an eyebrow and his facial expression hardened immediately.

“Where is your husband, I wanted to ask?” He finally inquired what he had called you for in the first place.

“The hell would I know?” You shrugged your arms. “What do you need him for?”

“To send him a message that I have you,” Adar explained. “What other use are you to me if not a bargaining chip?” He pointed out. “If he doesn’t come for you, I can kill you easily and get rid of the burden.”

“He will come back,” you assured him with a head nod as your eyes became serious in an instant. “I don’t know where he is but he will not forsake me. You can expect him any day,” you added. “Not only I was left behind, my Lord, but his subjects, too.”

Adar nodded at you and dismissed you before walking away. You, however, stood still and kept staring at his back with nothing but pure hatred.

“What are you staring at?!” One of the Orcs barked at you. “Go back to work, whore!”

“You have no idea who you have just called a whore,” you only told him before turning around and going back to other prisoners. The Orc laughed at you. “Scum,” you muttered under your breath.

The day was windy and dark – like all days nowadays in the land that Adar had renamed to be Mordor. Mairon quite liked the sound of it and he thought he would not change it. Unless his wife would insist, of course. You hated everything that came from Adar, therefore you could want to change the name and he would not blame you.

If you two did not need the army of the Orcs so badly, you would probably insist on getting rid of them, too. That was how much you hated Adar and his children.

A few weeks you had suffered at the Orcs’ camp while your husband worked in Eregion with Lord Celebrimbor – pretending to be worried and heartbroken about his wife’s imprisonment, of course – but now he was finally back to free you and to continue his plan.

He had not been actually heartbroken – he knew his Serpent Queen was strong and truly invincible but he had been worried indeed. Worried that your impulsive nature had given your disguise away somehow during that time.

After turning himself in he was led in chains, with a collar around his neck, to see Adar alongside other humans captured on the way. He witnessed some people being killed for refusing to kneel in front of their new Lord and some being marked with burning iron for choosing to follow the new leader. As a man posing to be their King and protector, Mairon had to pretend to be sympathetic towards their fate.

“The King of The Southlands turned himself in, Lord Father,” one of the Orcs pushed him to stand closer to Adar who had been squinting his eyes at the man in front of him. “Says he wants to negotiate.”

“Is she alive?” Mairon asked as his voice broke a little although he knew perfectly well that you were – his sweet (Y/N), he could sense your presence from miles away now.

Adar hesitated before giving him an answer, visibly debating with himself inside of his mind.

“Worried about the witch, are you?” Adar finally asked and Mairon gritted his teeth.

What looked like him being angry at Adar for calling his wife a witch, was nothing but his anger towards you for being impulsive enough to earn such a title amongst them now.

“What are you talking about?” Mairon asked.

“Nothing,” Adar shook his head and chuckled. “She is alive and a burden to us all. Her wicked tongue and her big mouth surely are. If you want to take her, I am not going to ask for much in return. I will gladly get rid of your Queen,” Adar remarked and the Orcs laughed. 

Mairon moved uncomfortably. It was all a game, of course, but he felt real rage now at the disrespect these filthy creatures were showing to their rightful Queen.

“That is good to hear but I am here not only as her husband. I am here as the King of my people, too,” Mairon pointed out. “Let them go.”

The Orcs laughed again, which was something he had been expecting. Adar remained serious, though, and so did Mairon.

“...or yours will die,” he threatened, although as a human he was posing to be he could not do anything, of course.

Perhaps he shouldn’t be so angry with you for making too many hints about your real nature because he was giving in to the temptation himself now. It was simply impossible for creatures as proud as you two not to hint at your real greatness when you were forced to be humiliated by the circumstances.

Adar finally shook his head and snorted at Mairon’s threat.

“My people defeated the Men of these lands,” he said. “We defeated the Elves who came to their aid. We even defeated the allies, the Men from beyond the sea,” he stood up from his throne to walk up to Mairon. “There is no one left for us to fear.”

“There is one,” Mairon said to that, pretending to look hopeless and defeated. “Since Galadriel’s defeat, she sought out new allies,” he continued as Adar kept staring at him angrily but not without a hint of fear on his scarred face. “An ancient sorcerer and a Lady of Darkness, to instruct the Elves in forging a new weapon.”

The Orcs were visibly upset about the news as they looked at each other, worried.

“One you first told her about,” Mairon kept teasing to plant an idea inside Adar’s mind that he could be a source of his children’s demise. “A power over flesh,” he explained. “Do you remember those words? A power that will allow them to use your children as slaves in their army once more,” he finished his teasing. “I fled from them after finding out with whom the Elves wanted to forge an alliance,” he continued with the lie.

“Galadriel would never have anything to do with them. She spent long centuries fighting them and their evil,” Adar shook his head.

“Nothing brings people together as much as a common enemy. Perhaps she hates your children more than she hates them,” Mairon answered.

“Besides, they are both slain,” Adar chuckled nervously, trying to convince others as much as himself, therefore Mairon ignored that accusation.

“Set my wife free, let my people go, and I will tell you where they can be found, so you can destroy them and rid us both of their endless evil,” he made sure to sound a little frightened as well.

“No, Your Majesty,” Adar addressed him with irony as he moved even closer. “You will tell me everything you think you know of this sorcerer and his serpent whore now. Or I will spill the words from your throat.”

“If I die, all that I know dies with me,” Mairon pointed out. “You can’t kill me.”

“We’ll see for how long you keep that attitude,” Adar smirked before looking at one of the Orcs. “Bring her.”

You knew that your husband was back already, you could sense him for long hours now. However, you kept working as usual and pretending that you could not sense anything. The Orcs were already calling you a witch and you wanted them to think of you as an innocent village folk healer instead of a real sorceress with any grand powers because that would be too suspicious.

“You,” you felt a dirty hand grabbing you and turning you around as you nearly bumped into an Orc standing there.

“What is it?” You furrowed your brows, expecting him to inform you that you were free to go after your husband’s negotiations.

This, however, did not happen. Of course. Life would be too beautiful then.

You were dragged by the chain towards one of the wooden huts and thrown inside on the hard floor. You scratched your hands when you landed on it with your arms extended to avoid bumping your head.

“She is no part of this,” you heard a familiar voice and you raised your head as your eyes sparkled and a smile appeared on your face at the sight of your husband. 

He had a collar around his neck as well and he was as dirty and bruised as you were, chained to a wooden pillar. You wanted to run up to him but the chain around your neck was too short to be able to reach him as the Orcs laughed and they chained you to another pillar. This way you could face your husband but you could not touch him and what a great torment it truly was.

It was surely a torment much greater than the physical pain they were inflicting upon you to make him talk. And while they kicked and punched you, you dissociated – staring blankly at the wall and being grateful for the fact you were a creature powerful enough to be able to mentally leave your body like this.

“Stop it!” Mairon begged in a raspy voice as one of the Orcs kept his head still, forcing him to watch. When you laid your eyes on him once, you swore, he even faked a tear streaming down his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you heard his voice inside your head and it made you realise that the tear was not a play-pretend. Watching you being in pain was not something he enjoyed unless it was in your intimate moments – something rooted in love and mutual consent.

“I can handle that,” you answered. “What is your plan?”

“I will tell you when we are left alone by them. Can you endure a bit more, my love?” He asked, worryingly.

“I would endure centuries of that for you, Mairon,” you assured him. “I will, however, lose consciousness now,” you warned him so he would not be scared before you pulled the trick on the Orcs and forced your flesh to shut down, pretending to faint out of pain.

Enduring the pain they were causing you was easy. Watching them hurt your husband was worse even though you knew that his case was exactly like yours and none of the damage could truly take him down or become too unbearable. Watching his pain was still making your heart ache as you sobbed and begged them to stop while your head was being kept still and forced to observe like his head had been held earlier by them as well.

The Orcs were taking turns in tormenting you both and you already knew all of Mairon’s plan, which he had revealed to you when they had left you for the night, thinking you would sleep the injuries off, not knowing that rest was not something any of you needed.

One evening the Orcs brought a growling and snarling warg with a collar around his neck like yours and chained him to yet another pillar. He could not hurt any of you because of the length of his chain but they assumed his presence would make you more scared as they walked out laughing and wishing you a good night ironically.

“Aww, poor baby,” you sighed and leaned your head back on the wooden pillar behind you. “Look, my love, they keep him on such a short chain. It should be a crime,” you pointed out. “Shh, shh, sweetheart, it’s fine now,” you cooed to the warg and he barked at you angrily. “Oh, don’t be cross with me, it was not me putting you here!” You chuckled at him and took a look at your husband from the corner of your eye.

He was sitting up as well, leaning on his pillar and staring at you lovingly from between his ruffled brown hair with a soft smile.

“You’ve always liked them,” he whispered.

“What is there not to like about those big, hairy beasts that tend to bite?” You teased him with a wicked smile and he chuckled while shaking his head.

“Do you remember witnessing me like that for the first time?” He asked and you smiled at the memory.

“You stepped on me, my love,” you said and he laughed, therefore you pouted, “and I do not find it funny!”

“You were easy to overlook, my darling. You were a snake then,” he reminded you

“First of all, I was the most beautiful snake in the woods, so you should have spotted me immediately,” you teased. “Second of all, I was terrified, remember? It was the first time I transformed and I could not repeat it. I truly thought I would never go back into my old shape…”

“But then, a big werewolf stepped on you and you suddenly changed into the fair maiden that you are to scold him,” he finished the story. “My wife.”

“Your wife,” you nodded with a smile. “I recognised you immediately, my husband. I recognised you by your eyes alone even though they were yellow orbs of the beast but something about them told me it was my Mairon.”

“And you hopped on me and I took you back to the fortress and our master laughed at that, remember? He called me your dog then,” he chuckled as he shook his head but you frowned at the mention of Morgoth.

“I never liked how he would humiliate you,” you admitted.

“This humiliation I did not mind,” he said.

“This whole thing,” you looked around, “reminds me of the past. Adar treats us like our master once did – making me watch you being hurt and forcing you to witness my torment. Do you think he is inspired by what our master was doing to us? And now he is inflicting it upon… well, us?” You chuckled sadly.

“I… don’t want to remember that,” your husband winced as he leaned his head back on the pillar behind him.

“Forgive me,” you looked down.

“Do you know what pains me the most?” He asked and you raised an eyebrow at him. “That we will forever be known and remembered as his subjects. His followers and his successors. His shadows.”

“There is nothing else we can do. In Valinor we are no longer welcome,” you shrugged your arms, however the old scar nearby your heart burnt at the mention of your home where, deep down, you longed to come back.

But not without Mairon.

“They wanted to give us a chance,” your husband reminded you in a whisper.

“And you really think they would allow us back in on the same terms? Don’t be foolish,” you snorted. “We would forever be outcasts amongst them and they would never trust us. And we would have to bow our heads for the rest of our lives – bow them lower than others to remain in their good graces. I’d rather be known as our master’s shadow and forever wear the stain of being his property once than to bow down in front of anyone ever again!” You drawled out through gritted teeth with determination and Mairon met your gaze, a little taken aback by your outburst. “You are the only one I can bow my head to.”

“You do not have to bow your head to anyone, my love,” he assured you.

At that very moment you were interrupted by a filthy human working for Adar and the Orcs – he was the worst amongst all of these creatures because he was doing all these things not because he had to or out of his nature but simply because he wanted to remain in their good favours no matter what.

He laughed with contempt at the sight of you and your husband and by the stink alone you recognised that he was carrying food for you.

“Am I interrupting’ somethin’, lovebirds?” He asked, to which you and your husband said nothing. “Come on, Your Majesties,” he teased. “Not even kings and queens can go without food,” he reminded you and he had lots of reasons to because you both had been refusing to eat for days now.

He crouched down next to you, probably too scared to tease your husband or perhaps you were more pleasant for his eye. Either way, you wanted to make him regret that.

You did not enjoy being perceived as weaker than your husband only because you were a woman. One thing you had to admit about your master – he had never treated you any different because of your gender. The pain, the torture, the punishments, the responsibilities – you had been gifted the very same ones as any other.

“Why doesn’t he want to open up?” Waldreg whispered into your ear as you kept staring at your husband only, ignoring him completely. “Mayhaps he doesn’t care about you so much, does he? Mayhaps it doesn’t bother him to see you in pain, Your Majesty.”

You clenched your jaw at his words. He had absolutely no idea how much Mairon cared. How much he had been caring for centuries now. How many times he had taken your master’s anger on himself to protect you.

“Mayhaps he told you what he knew, huh?” Waldreg continued. “I’m sure he did. You tell old Waldreg everything you know about Sauron and Lókë…”

Suddenly, you turned your head around to hiss at him, letting out a sound the very same as any real serpent would. Waldreg got startled and jumped back before stumbling down and falling as you chuckled with contempt.

“Pain must be something you enjoy!” He exclaimed at you and threw the food on the floor as two Orcs hurried to his side to help him stand up.

“Oh, mayhaps I do,” you mocked the word he had been teasing you with before and you gained a kick in the face in return from one of the Orcs. Blood filled your mouth as you laughed and the warg next to you began to snarl.

“After Lord Father releases us, I’m going to kill you,” your husband told Waldreg when you were spitting the blood out of your mouth.

“Adar doesn’t even remember you two are here,” Waldreg laughed.

But you knew it was not true – you would never forget the look in Adar’s eyes at the sight of your scar. You were sure he was intrigued by you and your husband and you even had that unsettling feeling that he simply… knew who you truly were.

The Orc, still standing above you, raised his hand to strike another blow and you tensed your muscles, preparing your flesh to endure it.

“I’ll take it,” Mairon interrupted him. “Leave her, I’ll take it,” he pleaded. “She is my wife and I am responsible for her big mouth and her stunts,” he insisted.

Tears filled your eyes at that because he had begged your master the same way once after the battle you had lost – she is my wife and I am responsible for her failure. I’ll take the punishment, leave her, I beg of you.

The Orc looked at Waldreg, a little confused. But Waldreg shrugged his arms in return because it did not matter to him which one of you would be beaten – he simply enjoyed the act. Therefore, the Orc only growled at you before he approached your husband to beat him instead.

What you did not sense in all that mess was the fact Adar was standing nearby and overhearing the last few sentences, which had reminded him of the twisted couple he had known in time long gone now, yet still fresh in his memory.

Your flesh was of a human, therefore it regenerated quicker when asleep. So, some nights you and your husband allowed yourselves to drift off to the land of dreams. You had done that on the previous evening but you quickly regretted that choice because the dream you had was far from pleasant.

It was not a dream, really. It was more of a memory that you found yourself inside of once more – the long and endless road you had crawled with a bleeding wound in your chest, only to find your husband’s dead body abandoned in the fortress in the puddle of his thick, black blood.

You had sobbed and taken his cold hand into yours as you had laid upon his still chest, burying your face in the red fabric of his robe, stained with his blood now, still sensing his weak presence somewhere around the fortress but it had been ungraspable, therefore hugging his dead flesh had been all you could do. You had brushed his ginger hair one last time with a sad smile and had fallen asleep there, on top of him, sobbing and defeated. Alone.

When you opened your eyes, though, you were back to reality. And there was Adar standing above you, staring intensely. You furrowed your brows at him but he did not say anything and crouched down to remove the collar from your neck and set your hands free from the shackles before standing up again without a word. He walked over you to stand above Mairon now, waiting for him to wake up as well.

You sat up lazily, wondering what would happen now and your husband woke up as well not long after you. 

“I was in your place once,” Adar said as you watched, intrigued. Mairon was still laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling. “In the eldest of the Elder Days,” Adar continued. “Thirteen of us were chosen to be blessed of Morgoth’s hand with the promise of power,” he crouched down to be closer to your husband’s face.

You looked up to exchange a confused look with Waldreg and one of the Orcs standing by the door to the hut. That small string of connection between the three of you in that moment was nearly funny if the situation was not so serious.

“A new birth. I was led up to a dark and nameless peak. Chained and left with nobody to keep me company except for a vicious serpent coming to visit me sometimes,” Adar confessed and the pain in his voice was raw and authentic.

You saw something glistening in the dim light and, to your surprise, that was your husband’s tear streaming down his cheek. You understood why – the first Uruks had not been the only ones that Morgoth had been torturing. Despite being enemies with Adar, you had a strong connection with him through the suffering you all had endured back in the day from the hands of the one you all had been calling your master.

“And after what seemed endless thirst and hunger…” Adar continued his story. “I saw them. His servants’ faces. Sauron’s face… It was beautiful. And Lókë’s, too, for she followed him everywhere. Her eyes… Those were the very same eyes as of the serpent that had been keeping me company in those endless days and I realised she had been the one to join me in my misery. And until this day I do not know if it was her mercy, her sympathy or her wicked passion for witnessing somebody else’s pain.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat, stopping yourself with every fibre of your being from telling him that it had been sympathy – it had been nothing but pure sympathy and what had been his repayment? Betrayal.

Although some part of you understood his reasons, too. It had all been for his children. Perhaps one day you would understand this kind of love as well but it would require you to forever bind yourself to your physical form and you were not sure if it was a sacrifice you would ever be ready to make.

“Lókë wiped the dirt, sweat and blood off of my face. Sauron offered me wine, red as a blood moon,” Adar went on with his story. “He offered me wine and on that dark and nameless peak, I drank it. I drank it all.”

You saw your husband glancing at you with his teary eyes and now your own eyes were wet, too, after being reminded of that day.

“Your wife is no longer in chains. Your people have been set free,” Adar announced. “Now, tell me what you know of Sauron and Lókë,” he demanded and your husband moved his head up slightly as his blood-covered lips curved into a smile.

“Sauron has returned in a new form and his lover forged herself a new flesh as well,” your husband revealed. “I am not yet sure what shape they have taken.”

“Then of what use are you to me?” Adar asked, angrily, while standing up.

“I have something you don’t,” your husband teased him. “The trust of the Elves. Release me, release my wife,” he continued, “and we’ll go to them and I’ll seek Sauron out, so you can marshal your legions to destroy him.”

Long silence occurred, in which you assumed Adar was overthinking the proposition.

“We want the same thing you do, Lord Father,” you whispered, your voice nothing but a shaky breath. Adar turned around to look at you intensely and you pretended to startle a little. “We want Middle-earth to be free of evil.”

It was no lie – you wanted nothing else. You wanted this world to be a good and happy place. Healed.

Adar took a deep breath in and eventually nodded at Waldreg, who walked up to Mairon hesitantly.

“Do you vow allegiance to Adar, Lord Father of the Uruks?” He asked, giving you a quick glance before looking back at your husband.

You waited for Mairon’s decision first and you could see how much it costed him to say that word even though it was only a game you two were playing.

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes,” you followed.

“Then kneel,” Waldreg ordered. “Both of you,” he turned his head around to look at you.

You moved yourself up on trembling legs, pretending to be moved and scared. Your husband was still in shackles, therefore he struggled to get onto his knees and it pained you to watch him so humiliated. You approached him to help him but Adar extended his hand to stop you from any further movement. You froze and waited for your husband to get on his knees first before you would join him.

And when he was on his knees, you felt Waldreg hitting your back and making you fall down upon yours as well even though it was unnecessary because you planned on doing that anyway. You looked up at him with hatred.

“Now, swear it,” he ordered.

It was all a play-pretend, you had to remind yourself. Being on your knees in front of a man who had betrayed you once was so humiliating, though, that you wanted to cry for real. And something about Adar’s proud and intense gaze was telling you he truly knew who you were.

“I vow–” your husband began.

“With your head at my feet,” Adar interrupted him and you looked up at him with anger before you began to follow his order before your husband even moved, still taken aback by such a request.

“Not you,” Adar stopped you. “Him.”

You swallowed thickly and exchanged a look with your husband before he eventually gave in and laid his face on the ground in front of Adar’s boots.

“I vow to serve the Lord of Mordor,” your husband whispered. To the end of my days… and his,” he finished.

Adar laid his eyes on you now, still kneeling as your thighs trembled slightly.

“I vow to serve the Lord of Mordor,” you bowed your head, humbly. “Till death removes me from the responsibility,” you added.

Adar nodded and walked away. Waldreg freed your husband from his collar and his shackles although he did not look happy about it. When Mairon was finally free, you cupped his face and leaned in to press your forehead to his before kissing him briefly with a big smile to be able to hold him again.

You were given one black horse you had to share but you did not mind it at all as you hopped on it to sit behind your husband and wrap your arms around his waist before pressing your cheek to his shoulder blade.

Very slowly he was leading the horse out of the camp and when you were on the hill above it, you heard a scream of pain from the distance. Your husband stopped the horse as you both chuckled because it was the scream of Waldreg being eaten by the warg left behind in the hut. The one you had tamed during your stay there and now you had your revenge on the filthy human.

And soon, on all of them.

“You know,” you mumbled out.

“Hm?”

“I quite enjoy our adventures as Halbrand and Maira,” you admitted and squeezed your husband tighter.

“We have been tortured for weeks now, my love,” he pointed out with a laugh.

“I know but apart from that… There is a certain charm to it,” you explained.

“Yes, I am aware,” he admitted with a head nod and ordered the horse to move again. “However, we have a work to finish in Eregion.”

“Do you have a new name already?” You asked him, teasingly.

“Annatar, Lord of Gifts,” your husband answered. “You?”

“Fëanár,” you revealed and waited for his response. “The patron saint of the fire… to spark a brand new inspiration within Lord Celebrimbor’s forge,” you explained your choice.

“Soul of fire,” your husband hummed to himself. “Bold one. I like it,” he admitted and you smiled to yourself, hugging him tighter, proud of yourself.

Proud and happy to be with him. Wherever the road would take you two.

MASTERLIST

[johannesviii]

Nearly every time I've rewatched Infinity Train Book 3 since I first saw it in February, I saw more parallels and narrative echos, and infodumping my friends about them isn't enough anymore

I figured I should do a post about this one because I don't think I've seen a post about that specific thing yet, and I love this show's writing, and. idk. I just need to praise it I guess

So, the most obvious part first:

Grace became everything she hated about her parents

When Grace mentions her mother in the Debutante Ball Car, it's made pretty clear she's trying to distance herself from her mother as much as possible, and at this point, we realise retrospectively that Grace's room in the Mall Car in episode one was full of sports clothes - it seems she tries to avoid things reminding her of her life before the train. And of her mother. And yet-

She tries to control everyone and everything around her, and makes people do what she doesn't want to do

And she decides what's cool and what isn't

She makes people kneel in her presence, like her mother towers over her in her mind's eye

Obviously she constantly lies to get what she wants, and her dad does that in her tape

When her younger self looks up, she looks right through adult Grace, and it's actually her parents she's looking at! Her younger self is metaphorically seeing her parents where her adult self is standing!! I still can't get over this shot

Also I feel the need to mention her mother has the same voice actor as her in her tape and even if it might be to cut corners in the budget, that feels significant (and to be fair, sometimes you can cut corners while making meaningful choices at the same time)

Now you might think I'd have nothing to say about Simon on that matter, since we don't see any flashback of his life before the Train, and we know next to nothing about his parents. But I think it's very telling that the only actual backstory we get for him is his backstory with The Cat.

Because-

Simon became everything he hated about The Cat

Ok I never see anyone mentioning this, but hear me out

First, we have no idea if Simon knew The Cat was routinely invading people's privacy through their memory tapes, but he sure has no issue doing the exact same thing

But that doesn't stop there. He also collects things obsessively

And makes kids collect things for him as well, by the way

He thinks he's above others, but he immediately switches to victim mode when it comes back to bite him

HE. ABANDONS. A CHILD. WHO WAS UNDER HIS CARE!!

And. Uh. They both dig their heels instead of trying to change, too

Don't get me wrong, on some level I would have liked to know what Simon's parents were like too. I would have liked that a lot. But there's a good chance it wouldn't change anything, because everything we need to know about his background to understand why he's Like That™ is already in the show

But yeah, Grace and Simon both pretend they found freedom on the Train, and both distance themselves from parental figures who are at the source of their trauma, claiming they're different and better than them - and yet they are both subconsciously repeating patterns that caused at least part of their problems and/or trauma in the first place

And since they decided that making numbers go up was good, as long as they stick to that idea, they are bound to never escape from that self-perpetuating loop of harm and trauma

And I love it

And I hate it

[herefortheships]

One of the biggest reasons I feel like Beetlejuice 3 is needed is that Beetlejuice Beetlejuice felt (to me) like there was no payoff. I'd have to rewatch, but I feel that the only aspects in which Lydia's and Astrid's lives improved comparing the start of the movie to the end, is that Lydia is freed from Rory and Astrid got to see her dad again, all of which was only achieved thanks to Betelgeuse's intervention.

Lydia was not happy at the end of the film, in contrast to the end of the first movie where we see her happy living with the ghosts of the Maitlands (in addition to her actual dad and stepmom). If anything, even though Rory is gone, Lydia is perhaps lonlier and more unhappy than at the start of the film, after the death of Delia and her father Charles. Rory might have been toxic but whatever idea or feeling of support she had from him is now gone too. We don't know if Astrid will still be attending the boarding school or not, so if Lydia truly quit making her show, then she is also more alone than she was at the beginning.

Betelgeuse also did not get rewarded after spending the entire movie working hard to sort of prove himself to Lydia and show her his love was genuine (despite the few scenes where he truly scared and disturbed her [the Beetlebaby for example... ew], but even though I don't excuse him, I also understand that these dark aspects of BJ's personality just come with the package, with him being what he is, it's something he can't help). In the end he was dismissed despite keeping his part of the agreement, as I'm sure he expected he was going to be, based on the song choice and, what many fans have pointed out, how he didn't do anything to stop Lydia from saying his name and sending him away.

What I'm getting at is that, in the end, the movie left a feeling of there being no payoff, even though technically "the good guys won". When there's no payoff, the story feels incomplete and/or empty in the end. At least we had that scene at the end to confirm that Betelgeuse is not truly gone, which left the door open to the possibility of a third and final part to this series. So even though I do like an open ending, in this case it just feels like this movie just set the stage for a continuation.

Maybe not everyone would agree, but it truly feels that with what this movie set up, the ultimate payoff would be for Lydia and Betelgeuse to finally get married and complete each other's stories. I wish the next movie will focus on Lydia, so that her choosing him feels organic and entirely her own choice.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Could you do 21 and 25 with Quinn Hughes ❤️‍🔥

I am gonna be honest I have no idea how your prompt turning into this 🤣🤣. I guess I really am Quinn Hughes Whore.(if you have been here that long to understadn that reference I love you)

200 Followers Celebration

"Wait - uh - do... do that again." "Fuck - uh! I love it when you touch me like that"

"Quinny" you whisper in his ear, you know that he focused on his computer. He's rewatching old clips of games, not his games, opponents games during playoffs studying them to help figure out the best way to beat them in upcoming season. He doesn't pause the video not right away but at least makes a sound of acknowledgement that he did in fact hear you. "why don't you take a break?" you whisper starting to kiss down his neck trying to distract him. Listen if it wasn't for him being on his third hour 3 days in a row you would of left him alone. But it isn't healthy to obsess espically this early on, before preseason even started.

"baby I'm trying to focus" is all he says, but his arm does wrap around you pulling you just a little bit closer. Your clit in your jean shorts rubbing against his sweats.

"wait - uh - do... do that again." you ask. Not sure if its the angle or the fact that you are just really horny but the contrast of materials had you wanting more.

"do what?" suddenly turning his attention to you, with a smirk on his face. "I haven't even touched you and your already begging me." the smugness in his voice only becoming more clear with each word.

"please Quinny" you begg. "It's been so long." trying to get him to give in.

A deep laugh leaves his lips deep from his chest. "baby I fucked you this morning in the shower." he reasons.

"yeah that was like 12 hours ago." pouting looking down, suddenly embarrassed at Quinn pointing out that it hasn't even been a day and your body is already craving more.

He takes his hand that isn't wrapped around you and puts his index finger under your chin. Forcing yourself to look up at him. "How about we make a deal?" he softly asks. Shaking your head yes, he continues. "I do need to finish this film, but I am not evil baby. How about you use my thigh to get off. Then once your done, I promise to take a real break." Whispering the last part in your ear, as his hand starts leaving ghostly touches down your body. "and fuck the shit outta you until you'll be begging me to stop."

Shaking your head, you go to straddle his left thigh, your right knee as close as it can be to his dick. His eyes back to focus on his computer, as you start to roll your hips. Softly moaning at the feeling alone but also at the fact that Quinn was completely ignoring you focused on his work. Suddenly you made it your mission to distract him, even if you knew you would be punished for it later you wanted to know how far you could go with him ignoring you.

"Ahh Quinn fuck yeah." rolling your hips faster then before, pushing your boobs slightly in front of his face. Taking your hand that wasn't wrapped around his neck for support, you put it under your shirt, greatful you were too lazy to wear a bra today. "ahh right there baby. please." you continue. Opening your eyes barely you see Quinn was still ignoring you, you decided to turn it up a level.

"Quinny please." Taking his hand that was looslely wrapped around your waist, putting his hand on your ass, forcing him to palm it. He continued to palm it but still didn't look at you. Now it really was becoming a game of who would give in first. Looking down you got a new idea.

Removing your hand from under your shirt, you glance at Quinn again, still focused on the game, you have to stop yourself form rolling your eyes as you go to leave light touches on his already hard member.

"fffuucckkk." he lets out his head throwing back automatically to the back of the coach. "why can't you ever just fucking listen."

"please I need you, and you need me too." you try to reason.

Finally he decides to help you, removing your shirt, one of your boobs goes into his mouth and you cry in ecstasy. "fuck - uh! I love it when you touch me like that." As he takes your one leg and moves it so your straddling his lap, controlling your rolls as you start to dry hump.

"please don't stop." you beg "i'm so close please. can i-" you start. "can I come Quinny?" you ask, knowing it turns him on when you ask for permission.

Removing himself from your boob, he looks at you, his pupils blown with lust. "I don't know how you been a good girl?" he asks. His mouth going to bite already purple hickies from this morning, causing you to make a sound mixed between a cry and moan.

"Please Quuuinnnyyy." draggin his name out.

"hmm" he says like he's really sitting their fucking debating this shit, when you feel like your able to explode.

"what's the magic word baby."

"please." you say

'no no no"

"please daddy." you beg.

"okay baby go ahead." he says and you swear you see stars as you finally let yourself go, Quinn close behind you.

[ablobwhowrites]

When the bots found out m/n has a favorite

Vehicon m/n in Cybertron school be like

The dynamic of Vehicon m/n and SG Vehicon m/n

Vehicon m/n in the RID universe

Since you plan to have yandere trollhunter

M/n is reconsidering his life rn

A bonus

Vehicon m/n healing

Bayverse transformer universe is vehicon m/n's nightmare, cause he is scared of Megatron cause he'd rather be with Arachnid than being dragged into the bayverse cause he thinks that Megatron will grab him and rip him in two like jazz (he would never...just a leg maybe) he also is scared Quintessa cause like have you seen what she can do?

Vehicon m/n: "I don't have favorites. What makes you feel like I have favorites?" *Looks behind him* "oh my primes

Also love the mental image of Optimus giving vehicon m/n especially when bro need one cause bro is the embodiment of “it’s you!” To the “despite everything it’s still you.”

B-127: "hey guys I found m/n!...but they kinda look weird?"

vehicon m/n: "how the fuck did I get here?"

Trollhunter m/n whispering : "it's okay, we just have to be super quiet"

*loud notification*

Toby: "hey clash of claAAAA-"

*m/n gets snatched by bular*

trollhunter m/n when he gets a magical weapon that they have no idea how to use. (you guys can decide what weapon it is)

Tfa arachnid: "I created you, you created me"

Tfa y/n: "Optimus why did you create that guy?"

Optimus: "I didn't! I tried to save her!" (I rewatched transformers animated)

Vehicon m/n: "finally a normal looking motorcycle"

Rid m/n: "odd green motorcycle but hey at least it's normal, let's take it back to base can be a cool present for Russel or-"

*motorcycle transforms into kickback*

Vehicon m/n: "ITS A BIG ASS BUG, IT OFF ME OH MY GO-"

(kickback is a big ass bug so I'd be really freaked out if that big ass cricket got in me. Also I love the minicons in the show but also is like underbite some kind of dog or something like that? Cause steeljaw is a wild) w

I had this thought when watching transformers one for the 3rd time, what if vehicon m/n had D-16’s crash out? Like as vehicon m/n slowly realizing Silas took everything from him, his life, his ability to every see his family again and then snaps at prime basically dong the same talk D-16 did in the movie but only wanting revenge on Silas but if he wasn’t talked out of it by prime then basically I think slowly m/n would turn to the decepticons basically only being blinded by rage and revenge for Silas. Should I let vehicon m/n crash out for a little while? Cause I feel like he deserves a small bit to crash out but I don't know what do you guys think?

Anyways hope you guys are well and please stay hydrated and get plenty of rest guys.

[haza1ll]

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles. 

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

[neiptune]

best case scenario

cw: 1.6k wc, female reader, friends with benefits, angst, hurt no comfort, you will not find any joy here my friends your girl is going through it and is trying to heal lmfao

Suna is staring at you.

It happens frequently as of late, the feeling of his eyes on you always teasing your spine with a telltale shudder while you pretend to occupy yourself with something entirely different. The thing is, you need things to ground you when you’re with Suna. After you’ve been with him or right before you’re about to be. Distractions to keep you sane, to prevent your heart from freeing itself from your chest cavity.

These quiet moments are not rare anymore, his sorcerous gaze a distraction too dangerous unless he speaks, voice like an enchantment freeing you from the quiescent bubble you intentionally lock yourself in. Today, the bubble is his rubik’s cube. You try very hard to remember at least part of the instructions you once looked up on the internet: think of each face as a layer, start by making a cross, don’t forget to pay attention to the color of the side center pieces, arrange the corner pieces-

“Twist the bottom layer so that one of the white corners is directly under the spot where it’s supposed to go on the top layer”, Suna’s voice is calm yet you sense the amusement it’s coated in. The snark. Ugh.

“Shut up” you grumble, stubbornly doing anything but following his instructions. The white corner piece is where it belongs but turned wrong and you have no idea how to fix that.

“Sure. I always like it better when you’re in charge anyway” he murmurs, too close. Like a cat, his chin suddenly rests on your shoulder and infuriatingly soft hair tickles your cheek as he presses a kiss behind your ear.

“I’m trying to focus here” your hold grows rigid, fingers moving layers of the cube randomly.

“And I’m just watching” he coos, voice a gentle murmur against your skin.

“You’re sabotaging. First by staring, now with this”.

“Should’ve been less pretty if you didn’t want me to stare”.

You shut your eyes for a second, let a deep breath fill your lungs with oxygen and your heart with little sparks of hope, crimson and golden and oh so fickle.

He doesn’t need to say these things. You’ve been sleeping together for enough time for him to know you’ll gladly welcome him back into your bed, day and night, no additional convincing needed. Why does he bother?

Suna is like one of those beautifully crafted russian tea dolls, only backwards. He starts as the smallest figure, blunt and perpetually unbothered, seemingly uninterested in anyone or anything. Then, if he feels safe enough to allow layers to be carefully exposed, the figure starts getting bigger: each crevice comes to light and contains way more than what one would expect from someone so stoic.

He’s a dog person, doesn’t like his morning coffee to be too hot, rewatches his favorite movies when he needs a good cry, sucks with plants, can’t get on a plane without taking an anxiolytic first. More than anything, Suna’s affection is hard to earn but runs deep. He loves his family, adores his friends. He’s in love with someone who isn’t you.

Suna is a one night stand enjoyer and doesn’t disdain dates or conversations that stretch out for days on dating apps. Worst case scenario, he’s entertained. Good case scenario, he also gets a good fuck out of it. Best case scenario, he finds relief and a friend. You suppose you’re his best case scenario.

It’s not like it was entirely unanticipated. He’s good looking, charming in his own stoic way, polite. First, it was attraction. Then, it was nothing but the cruel irony of a fate that came as doom. You just kept texting each other, taste and humor matching curiously, memes exchanged in the middle of the night and laughter muffled in pillows until he just had to ask for your number and smoothly text if he could come over one more time. Two times. A million times too many. For months, until Suna started sleeping in at your apartment and you started to fix breakfast for the both of you, until you walked his dog together, until you accidentally met one of his ex schoolmates and he introduced you calmly, by your name and as a friend. Until sleeping together wasn’t the only motive to see each other anymore, nights spent on his couch watching movies and afternoons devoted to driving around the city, exploring new bakeries and vinyl record stores.

Suna’s been honest since the beginning. Not when you started hooking up, rather when you became friends. I’m in love with someone I’m unable to forget. That’s alright, you replied. You were friends who were attracted to each other, simple as that: nothing was supposed to change.

And then, because life is a never ending sequence of sadistic developments, you ended up falling for him. Not only that: you started harboring hope, which is even worse than desire or delusion. Hope doesn’t keep you grounded. It makes you hang on every word Suna says, each unnecessary compliment, the way he sometimes takes you by the hand while strolling around shops, that one time he got so drunk you had to collect him from a bar. Then he fell asleep in your bed, arms around your body keeping you pressed against him all night. He was drunk enough to giggle (a rare occurrence), to ask you a question your mind still conjures word by word on nights you feel like you’re about to go insane, brain delirious with fabricated scenarios that could never be real. They couldn’t, right?

If we end up falling in love at last, will you stay and never leave?

For the longest time you refused to allow your heart to believe there could be some hidden meaning behind all those criptic words and uncharacteristic gestures. But then treacherous hope infiltrated your thoughts and the throb in your chest, arrangement now seemingly exclusive, dating apps no longer on his phone, ex schoolmates crowding his apartment and chatting with you like old friends. It must’ve meant something. It must mean something. And you’re sure you’ll end up going crazy if you don’t take a goddamn shot. 

“Wanna do something tomorrow? There’s a new cafe I wanted to take you to”.

Suna nods, cheek pressed to your bare shoulder.

“Sure, sounds good”.

“It’s a date, then?”.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything else planned. We can spend the day exploring”.

You pause your ministrations for a moment, then attentively place the cube on his nightstand once more.

“Can it be a real date?”.

You feel it before he can speak. It’s in the way he stiffens against your body, embedded all over his features as he straightens up to stare back. It’s in his parted lips, in the regret tucked into the corners of his mouth.

Suna just says your name and it’s mortifying, humiliating. 

“It’s okay” you take a shaky breath, nod once “forget about it. I’m so stupid”.

“No” he’s quick to interrupt “let’s talk about it”.

“Why? I already got my answer”.

“I didn’t say anything yet”.

You finally look at him, heart sinking to your stomach. It’s not like you’ve known Suna for years but you’ve known him long enough to recognize that stare, the watchfulness in his tone. You’ve already heard him turn down other women before.

“Let me say something first” you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat “I like you, Rin. I like you way more than I should and that's on me but I was starting to believe that, I don’t know, you liked me back”.

He takes your hands in his and holds them tight, conflict laced into his upset features.

“I do like you. I like you a lot”.

You smile a sad smile.

“Just not enough to date me?”.

“I would fucking love to date you. I’d be the luckiest man on earth. If I could decide to fall in love with you, if that choice belonged to me, I wouldn’t waste a single other second”.

“But you don’t see that ever happening so why waste your time, right?”.

Suna’s hold on your hands grows stronger, brows furrowed in anguish.

“I wouldn’t ever let you date someone who’s in love with someone else. You deserve so much better than that”.

As you pull your hands free from his grasp, you dazedly wonder how many times a heart can break and if it’s truly shattered if the person causing that agony doesn’t even seem to hear a sound so clear. The pain is unbearable, it makes you petty and it makes you cruel. You hope she’ll never want him. You beg that a gut-wrenching void swallows him whole. You pray that he’ll have to spend the rest of his life torturing himself, thinking about what could’ve been over and over again.

She’s not here, I am. She doesn’t want you, I do. She didn’t even remember your birthday, I memorized it a year go. Fuck you. Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou.

Suna tries to stop you from leaving, runs nervous hands through his disheveled hair. He doesn’t want to lose you as a friend, you’re important to him, he’s sorry. He doesn’t know what to do, wishes something could make this right.

“I would’ve made you happy” you aggressively wipe the tears running down your cheeks, humiliation still burning in the pit of your stomach.

“I would’ve wanted it to be you” he doesn’t cry, he never cries. You’re sure he’s going to miss you for a week or two, then he’ll easily fall back into his usual routine, download his apps once more, find other women to fill his time with. His friends are going to stop asking about you, your name won’t be mentioned over beer and board games anymore. His absence is always going to weigh more in your life, just as his presence.

“Good luck, Suna” his last name sounds weird, so weird the sound makes him flinch.

It’ll pass.

[donkeys-waffles]

Just as a warning to those that may be concerned, this is a Bakugo bashing post. If you love Bakugo as a character, then more power to you. He's my least favorite character across the board. And this is me venting my distaste for him, so be warned. Thank you :)

As I'm rewatching MHA, I've gotten to season 6 when Bakugo apologizes to Izuku. And there's something that really bothers me about it.

I feel like Bakugo had potential as a character. Like he really did, even though I don't like his character. I feel like there was potential for him to be an important figure in Izuku's development and growth. And the apology scene wasn't too bad for me. But I feel like it fell short in two major points.

Izuku rarely addresses and monologues about his own trauma/childhood. He expresses very little justified rage and the only real proof of the impact of his childhood lies within his body language and the subtext. His fear of Bakugo, borderline suicidal hero complex, every single scar on his body from overworking himself, constantly undervaluing himself and his efforts/improvements, and much more.

And the last point is Bakugo, I can understand wanting to keep core aspects of his character, but he has to change a little more to have it be considered character growth. The reason he bullied Izuku is because he felt that when Izuku reached out to him, Izuku viewed him as weak (delusional but go off. Literally harassed and assaulted someone for a decade because they tried to help you up when you fell.) His entire character arch was centered around the idea of not just winning, but also saving. He was supposed to understand the importance of both. But not only that, he was supposed understand and accept that help is needed, and you can't always win. I mean, if Izuku were to help him in a pinch now he needs to learn to set aside his arrogance, pride, and inferiority complex to accept help, and not explode into an overgrown toddler because he lost. With learning the importance of saving, he's supposed to not center his ENTIRE objective around strength and being the best all the time. And this could be done, while also still keeping his character true to himself. I always hear about his character development as a reason to like Bakugo, which... I don't completely agree. The only two changes are he doesn't physically attack people (Izuku) and doesn't call him Deku anymore, which GOOD I would hope that'd at least change. But his focus is still completely centered around winning. He says as much after the apology, in the baths, he's still fighting Izuku to become number 1. And that's not a bad thing entirely. I understand that's his character, what I want to see change is how he handles losing, how he handles not being the best and failing especially to Izuku. And what I get is an OVA with Bakugo having a temper tantrum because of a tie with Izuku, he used his quirk and was screaming about it too. It doesn't help that every chance he gets he talks about winning and out-besting Izuku in something, even with his fight with AFO he talks about it. Like he doesn't care that AFO is finally dead, and he saved the world, doesn't even offer a small sense of relief that he helped a lot of people, no, he beat Izuku and is clearly better and that's all that matters.

It's just, that entire mentality is what caused Izuku his problems, this mentality caused Bakugo to abuse him for a decade. I feel like the apology could've been done better, but it was just added to give Bakugo good boy points and then completely brushed aside. He's changed in some ways, but he hasn't changed enough to warrant forgiveness. Not when his competitiveness is still seen as somewhat mean spirited. Even when he found out about Izuku losing OFA, I just sat as he cried and thought "WOW, if I had my childhood bully that abused me for a decade for being quirkless, cried because I was quirkless again and couldn't compete with them anymore. I'd punch them so hard in the face." Like the audacity. Excuse me, I'm the one lying broken and battered in this hospital bed, with my dreams crushed again, and YOU'RE crying because you can't have an opponent for being the number 1 hero.

It's like Izuku is never seen as a person to Bakugo for most of the show, just something to kick aside, something to squash so he doesn't have to face his own inadequacy, and now just something to beat. Something with a power strong enough to rival the great Bakugo. And I feel like the narrative is trying to push that they were fighting for this dream together, since childhood up until this point in canon. That the bullying never happened, like that whole decade didn't exist. They do this through the scene of Bakugo crying and the All Might cards, but like how can you forget the last 5 seasons of the show and what 300+ chapters of Bakugo doing his upmost to crush Izuku under his boot. They most definitely DID NOT fight for that goal together their whole childhood, Bakugo has been crushing that boy's dreams of being a hero for years, instilling in him deep rooted self-hatred and a fat imposter syndrome.

[oneatlatime]

Yet More Sokka Thoughts

I rewatched Bato of the Water Tribe for the millionth time and I made a connection I hadn't made before. When Sokka's dad says "Being a man is knowing where you're needed the most" baby Sokka takes it as 'being a man is to lead.' But what his dad is actually saying, which he makes clear in his next line ("right now, that's here protecting your sister"), is 'being a man is to serve.' You can roll those ideas into one and point out that to lead correctly is to serve those you lead. To be a man is to serve, which will incidentally make you into a good leader as well. This led me to two interesting thoughts:

-Where I am so far in the show (The Serpent's Pass), I feel like Sokka has unconsciously absorbed his dad's lesson, but unconsciously only. When things aren't too serious he still likes playing at being the boss. Like when he takes the lead on the 'investigation' into Aang's past lives' crimes in Avatar Day. He's goofing off, sure, but he's also acting in charge the same way he was playing at being in charge of his posse of four year old warriors right at the very start of the show. But when the shit really hits the fan, as far back as the second episode of the first season, Sokka chooses to serve. Usually as a fairly ineffectual human shield. When Zuko's ship crashes into his village, he's not standing on top of his lookout tower ordering his child soldiers into formation; he's standing between the ship and everyone else. In the season one finale, he lets Yue go only after she references that dying for the fish is the duty she owes to her people - how she will serve them for the last time. In that moment, service was a language that Sokka spoke and understood. When Sokka's not in a situation where he has to be serious, he leads by bossing. When things get serious, he leads by serving or by sacrificing, usually himself (or at least attempting to). At this point it's probably a good thing for Sokka's long term survival that he hasn't consciously learned the lesson yet - characters who define themselves by sacrifice have a very slim chance of surviving series finales.

-Do you know how refreshing it is, in this age of Andrew Twat manosphere nonsense, to have a show for kids present masculinity as service to others?

[dead-inside-demiboy]

I still enjoy Sander sides a fuck ton, but I've been out of the fandom for years now. That being said, I've been rewatching it recently and here's a really cool thing I've noticed!

So while they are characters and all of the sides feel fully fleshed out and realistic, they are also aspects personified and it was done SO WELL

Like of course Logan would get very stuck up and controlling with certain stuff, that's how logic operates. Especially with adhd, logic is usually the voice of guilt in the back of your head when you do things wrong. On the other end, logic is also silly, you sometimes remember something random for no reason. And of course Logan gets ignored a lot! How often do you listen to your logic 100%?

Of course Roman is grand and has large ambitions too big for his boots, that's what creativity feels like. Yes, Roman will be self centered, because if you're an artist (like Thomas) creativity is a big source of pride for you, especially if you post online. Roman being insecure makes sense when you think of imposter syndrome and how popular Thomas is. Obviously Roman loves Disney and cartoons, they actively spur on creative juices.

Of course Patton is pushy and controlling with his beliefs, that's what morality does! Growing up religious would only make that more extreme. Of course he's commonly listened to and taken at face value, your ethics/morals are some of the heaviest driving forces when they kick in, and it takes a lot to shift them. Obviously he's the least mature, your morals are instilled when you're young and you never really grow out of them. But he's also a dad because older male figures are stereotypically the ones that teach you morals in the first place!

Of course Virgil is so rude in the beginning but gets an acceptance arc, anxiety is a bitch to live with that fucks with everything else, but you need to learn to work with it, not against it, similar to any other emotion. He used to be part of the dark sides cause when you don't know what to do with feelings like that, you end up pushing them down or hurting yourself. He hates not being taken seriously because when you completely ignore and blow off your alarm bells it puts you in active danger!

Speaking of, Dark sides tangent! First of all, they aren't really the "bad" parts, they're just the parts of Thomas that he bottled up or tried to hide from himself. And the name "dark sides" is so good, cause it's like the dark side of the moon! Just as important as the light side, just different, harder to see if you aren't actively looking, and often ignored or viewed as "worse"

Tangent over. So!

Of course Janus's main role is to hide the other dark sides! He's representation of what happens when somebody hides parts of themselves. He has a villian and snake persona cause of religious reasons and because deceit is viewed as one of those bad things that need to be bottled up! He is at the core of a lot of self preservation and caring of others because for Thomas, that is the only time he's used Deceit so it's all that he can do.

Of course Remus is equally as prideful as Roman, he has the same issues with imposter syndrome! Of course he has a bunch of gore and sex jokes/ideas, he's the creative parts that morals state are "bad". Unlike Roman who's usually on topic, Remus goes constantly off tangent because that is what your wilder/more experimental side of creativity does! It just spits shit out and you figure out what sticks!

Its very similar to Greek mythology and idk! I just love when personification is done super well while making the characters still feel human!

[wannabanauthor]

I still can’t stop thinking about BuckTommy in 7x04.

Because Buck was losing his ever loving mind over not being able to spend quality time with Tommy meanwhile Tommy was all cool and composed.

And they both had crushes on each other the whole time.

Buck was struggling so hard. You could see his mind working extra hard to understand what he’s feeling. He wanted Tommy but didn’t know why.

How many times do you think he replayed that shoulder touch from 7x03 in his mind? We know that he felt that connection and was so frustrated that he couldn’t keep Tommy’s attention for more than a few minutes.

Meanwhile Tommy was crushing hard internally but kept it cool in the outside. You could see his little facade slip during the entire basketball scene. He was struggling just as hard as Buck. But at least he knew why.

Buck was like a peacock that entire episode, mating dance and all. He wanted Tommy to notice him like Mateo in Superstore, and then for the other guy to be like “Yeah, I noticed you” but Tommy put his own little spin on it.

I can’t stop thinking about Tommy trying to talk himself into going to his crush’s apartment to settle things. That man really put himself out there to make sure things were still good between Eddie and Buck, and then he got a kiss and date from it.

Tommy seems very observant, so it’s interesting that it took Buck saying he wanted Tommy’s attention for Tommy to get it. But then again, I understand how hard it is to have gaydar while also having “I hope they’re gay”dar.

You see, now I have ideas on what would happened if Tommy didn’t have plans after the Harbor tour. I definitely think they would have kissed after going out for beer.

Or what would happen if Tommy and Buck became friends with benefits before dating.

I need to rewatch the 7x04 scenes more often because I just love how Tommy was the black cat and Buck was the golden retriever. Not to mention Tommy trying to get a read on Buck while Buck was like “I’m not interesting at all, tell me more about yourself” with heart eyes and a huge smile.

I know Tommy must have been suffering “goddamn, he’s cute and hot and funny and his smile is a goddamn WMD”.

The in episode 7x05 we get Tommy flirting harder and Buck’s all bashful. Whatever happened to the cocky Firehose? I mean we do see it in 7x06 in the hospital lobby.

I wonder what would have happened if they extended the pre-kiss flirting from 7x04.

I can’t get over these two nerds and their crushes on each other. Aargh, they’re so cute!

[alessiasfreckles]

i'll always look after you (part 2) (alessia russo x reader)

Your girlfriend is grumpy when she's sick. Part 1 here!

a/n: part 2 of the lessi sickfic! based on this request. i hope you like it! also big thank you to @wosoamazing for helping me out with the writer's block!!

-------

“I hate being sick,” your girlfriend grumbled, pouting. “It’s so boring.”

“I know, baby,” you said, giving her a quick kiss. “What did you get up to today?”

It was the third day of Alessia having to stay at home with an extremely stubborn cold. On the first day, she had almost enjoyed having a day off, using the day to sleep. On the second day, she started to get restless, annoyed by her own constant sniffling and coughing. Today, the third day, she was just downright grumpy. Your phone had been buzzing nonstop during training, making the other girls tease you about how bored Lessi clearly was. 

“Nothing!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up dramatically. 

“Nothing?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve just been lying here all day, not moving, not texting me, nothing?”

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and pouting again. “Okay, fine. I watched some tv, rewatched some old matches, maybe went for a small run, scrolled through instagram-”

“Wait, baby, did you just say you went for a run?” you asked incredulously.

“Maybe…” 

You sighed, sitting down next to her on the sofa. “You know you’re meant to be resting.”

“I know, I just. I hate being sick,” she sniffed. “And I thought maybe a little run would be okay, just to get me moving, and into the fresh air, y’know?”

“I know, baby,” you said, pulling her in to lean against you. “How was it?”

“Awful!” she said, bottom lip quivering. “I got to the end of the road and then started coughing and couldn’t stop and had to come back home.”

Tears of frustration brimmed up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. 

“Only a few more days, and then hopefully you’ll feel well enough to come back to training.” you tried to console her, but she pulled away. 

“I do feel better, though! It’s just this stupid cough and this stupid runny nose and-” she said, tears starting to stream down her face, and she hiccuped as you pulled her into a tight hug. “I miss playing football and training with you and all the girls. I know it’s stupid, we spend so much time training and playing, but I still miss it.”

You nodded, your heart breaking for her. “It’s not stupid, baby, I promise. I know exactly what you mean.”

You sat quietly for a moment, the silence broken by occasional sniffs from Alessia. 

“I have an idea,” you said, and she looked up at you. “What if we do some stretching together? I know it’s not the same, but at least you’ll be moving your body.”

She thought about it and then nodded, a small smile on her face. “Does that mean you’ll wear those leggings that make your bum look great?”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I can do, if you want.”

“Yes please,” she said with a grin, and then quickly pouted. “I’m sick, remember? It would help make me feel better.”

“I was going to wear them anyway, you don’t have to play the sick card,” you laughed, getting up to go and get changed. 

You kept the stretching session relatively easy, not wanting to push Lessi’s body further than necessary, especially when she really should have been resting. You could understand her restlessness though, you felt the same when you were sick. Afterwards, she leant over to give you a kiss, resting her forehead against yours. 

“Thank you, baby,” she said softly. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“Anything for you, my love,” you replied, your heart full. 

The two of you spent the rest of the evening watching a film and cuddling, before heading to bed early, ignoring your girlfriend’s protests that she didn’t need any more rest. It paid off, however, when the next day she woke up and declared that she felt well enough to come back to training with you. 

Being worried for her health, you tried to convince her to spend one last day at home. She kept you distracted with kisses and wandering hands until you realised that you had to get ready and leave now, otherwise you were going to be late. You didn’t have enough time to debate with her whether she should stay home or not anymore, so you gave up, making sure that she was bundled up in multiple layers so that if she was going to insist on going to training, at least her cold wouldn’t get any worse.

When you arrived at training, your teammates teased you for not having your girlfriend under control. 

“Don’t blame her,” Lessi said with a grin and a wink. “I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

The team doctor was not impressed by her return, but begrudgingly agreed that she did seem healthy enough to participate in the morning gym session, and that they would see how she felt at lunch before deciding whether she was cleared for training on the pitch in the afternoon. You couldn’t help but smile at the look of relief on the blonde’s face as she entered the gym. 

You were at the far end of the large hall, in the weight area, when you heard some coughing from the treadmills at the other end of the gym. You waited a beat, seeing whether the coughing would let up, but when it got worse you dropped the weights you were holding and rushed over. 

Lessi was doubled over next to one of the treadmills, Kyra stood next to her with a hand on her back. You bent down beside her, rubbing her back gently, offering her a water bottle, but she was coughing too hard to take a sip. 

“Shit, Ky, can you get the doctor?” you asked anxiously as your girlfriend stopped coughing long enough to take a quick breath but immediately started again. The Australian nodded before running out of the gym, returning a minute later with the team doctor. Lessi was still coughing, but not quite as badly as she had been. 

“Right Alessia, I need you to try and take some deep breaths for me, okay?” the doctor said, placing a stethoscope against the blonde’s back. She nodded, trying to take a breath between coughs. “I’m just going to take a quick listen.”

You rubbed a thumb against the back of your girlfriend’s hand as the coughs subsided and she was able to breathe again, face pink from exertion. After a couple of breaths, the doctor removed the stethoscope and stepped back in front of her. 

“It doesn’t sound too bad, but I’d like you to stop training for today, and take tomorrow off as well. And I’ll talk to Jonas about the game on Sunday, but you definitely shouldn’t be starting. Have you been drinking enough? Not just water, you need hot drinks as well. Cough drops couldn’t hurt either,” she said, and you watched Lessi’s face fall. 

“Okay,” she said miserably. “But I can play on Sunday?”

“Come and see me on Sunday morning, and if you’re healthy, I’ll tell Jonas that my recommendation is that you can play as a sub, alright?”

The blonde nodded, chewing at her lip. After the doctor left, you pulled her into a tight hug. 

“Can we go somewhere else?” she asked. You nodded, leading her into an empty  equipment room nearby. Once the door was closed, she let her body sag and her face fall into her hands. “I just feel so stupid. I shouldn’t have pushed, I shouldn’t have tried to go for that run yesterday, I should have stayed home today, I just-”

“Oh, baby,” you said, quickly pulling her into another tight hug. You stayed like that for a minute until you felt her body soften against yours, her arms wrapped around you. “You’re not stupid. Anyone else probably would have done the same.”

Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door. It opened quietly to reveal Leah, poking her head through.

“Less, you okay?” she asked, a concerned look on her face.

Your girlfriend shrugged, then nodded. Leah raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Fine,” Lessi slumped down. “I’m still poorly, I guess.”

Leah sighed. “You have to take care of yourself,” she started. Her voice was stern, but kind, and when your girlfriend’s lower lip started to wobble and tears filled her eyes, the England captain pulled her into a tight hug. “I know you wanted to come back, but it’s important for you and for the team that you’re in full health. And it’ll be even longer until you’re back to full health if you push yourself too hard. Believe me, I know how hard it is. So, y/n is going to take you home, okay? We’re mostly done with training for today, so neither of you will miss too much.”

Lessi sniffed and nodded, wiping a tear away. “Okay, Lee. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Less,” Leah said, her eyes kind. She turned to you. “That okay with you, y/n?”

“Sure,” you nodded, taking your girlfriend’s hand. “Come on, trouble. Let’s get you home.”

[tossawary]

I'm rewatching "The Phantom Menace" for the first time in years and ??? It really seems like Qui-Gon Jinn could have bargained for both Shmi and Anakin's freedom from the beginning of his wager with Watto???

Qui-Gon later DOES try to bargain for BOTH Shmi and Anakin's freedom, by putting "his" pod up in a second, separate wager. (And I do love that they're lying about where the secret pod came from. Anakin built it, so legally, it's probably actually Watto's. Qui-Gon is being a little crafty!) But Watto insists that no pod is worth TWO slaves and rolls a dice to pick which one (which Qui-Gon manipulates with the Force so that he'll get Anakin over Shmi).

But it doesn't explain why Qui-Gon didn't bargain for their freedom with the initial wager! The Skywalkers are providing the secretly built pod to Qui-Gon and it was Anakin's idea for Qui-Gon to approach Watto about borrowing him as a pilot for the Boonta Eve Classic. This is apparently THE big race on Tatooine and the prize money is worth a LOT (unnamed amount). Watto suggests that they split the prize money 50/50, but Qui-Gon immediately forfeits that, promising that Watto can take ALL OF IT in exchange for the ship parts Qui-Gon needs and if Watto will pay the entrance fee up-front, AND Qui-Gon agrees to give up his own ship if Anakin loses.

This seems... unbalanced? It really feels like Qui-Gon could have leveraged that prize money plus his ship for both Shmi and Anakin. Watto is angry after the race because he bet on Sebulba and "lost everything", but what about the prize money that Qui-Gon forfeited almost entirely to Watto??? And then they sell "Qui-Gon"'s pod (a race-winning pod!) for more money! (And Padmé even says after the race, "We owe you everything, Ani.")

And narratively, I'm not sure what would be greatly harmed by Shmi being free? She's free anyway in the next movie, living on the Lars farm, from what I remember, and the story-important pain for Anakin resolves around her violent death more than her now past enslavement. The movie could have slipped in a brief appearance by the moisture farmer who wants to marry Shmi, but can't because she's not free and he can't afford her freedom, so Shmi once freed stays on Tatooine to get happily married. And Anakin would still be (sadly by Shmi) sent off with the Jedi for a better life than poor moisture farmers on an Outer Rim planet run by gangsters can offer!!! You could still make their separation really sad with some good writing!

I wish the movie had either freed Shmi or been more convincing about why she has to stay in slavery. It really does end up making Qui-Gon Jinn look unlikably careless. Which is, you know, a character flaw and character flaws are fine! But he does other careless things in this movie anyway!

And this also ends up making the Jedi Council look like ASSHOLES when they (a strange group of adults) pressure a 9yo about his fear for his mother's safety and Yoda, instead of offering any guidance on dealing with fear productively, essentially says that fear (perfectly reasonable fear over his future and his mother's future!) is a path to the Dark Side in some weird slippery slope proverb. HIS MOTHER HAS BEEN LEFT IN SLAVERY!!! If Shmi had been left to a happy marriage as a free woman, then MAYBE you would be better able to frame Anakin's attachment as more of a problem, but so much about this scene makes the Jedi Council look utterly unreasonable. And again, it's fine if they're flawed! They can be flawed with their other objections!

But just... LITTLE edits here and there would make a lot about this movie stronger or at least less grating.