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#the world is a glorious place to be a dog
doomspaniels · 3 months
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The world is a glorious place to be a dog. Simply glorious.
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witchthewriter · 2 months
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𝐒𝐢𝐡𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
Warnings: some spoilers for the series xx
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
ISTP
Hufflepuff
Chaotic Good
Scorpio Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Cancer Rising
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
・The most sweetest, most gentle and most loyal husband you could ever imagine.
・Exactly like the ones in the romance novels - you are his world.
・And he would do ANYTHING for you. Sounds cliche but he would literally climb the tallest mountain, ask Uhtred to help him bring down the moon, Sihtric is crazy in love with you. And it doesn't stop after the honeymoon phase.
・Any part of your body that you dislike, Sihtric is the first one to be like "what? I don't get it. You are ... the most glorious person to ever walk on midguard."
・Has cried while alone when he's away from you.
・Not when he's been asked by Uhtred to spy though - he just thinks about you when it's safe to do so (he takes caring for his friends very seriously. He's big on loyalty.)
・Further with the loyalty comment; it's actually hilarious that it was he and Uhtred who set up that ruse in season 3. Sihtric would rather die than actually be that person
・Buys you any and every kind of jewellery; bracelets, rings, earrings, necklaces. If you follow his religion/way of life, then he buys you your own thor's hammer pendant.
・When he places it around your neck, he tugs you forward and leans his head against your forehead.
・Calls you, "sweetheart," "my love," "beautiful/handsome". But also likes to call you cheeky ones too: "troublemaker," "danger."
・Puppy god eyes, puppy dog eyes, PUPPY DOG EYES. He doesn't even know he's doing it. It was practically beaten out of him when he was younger by his father and half-brother.
・But when he realised he was doing it, Sihtric thought, 'I have never felt safe enough to act like this. With anyone.'
𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔
Calm bf (Sihtric) x Hyper gf/bf/non-binary partner (You)
Gives Jewellery (Sihtric) x Tries To Wear Everything Every Day To Make Them Happy (You)
Black Cat (You) x Black Bat (Sihtric)
𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆
Enemies to Lovers
You first saw Sihtric when he was living with his wretched father. You never expected to find him tied up under Uhtred's command.
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈
Lady of the Dawn by Peter Gundry
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𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point.
・When he first gets back from being away from you, he's hungry - like a dog in heat, he's rough, he needs to feel you, all of you.
・Sihtric's favourite thing to do is go down on you. Your juices, your smells; it drives him mad.
・After he's made you cum thrice, he rubs your cum/juices on his clothes just in case he has to leave again. He wants to be able to smell you.
・It has become a ritual now - if he doesn't then it's bad luck in his mind.
・If Sihtric is home for a while then his fucking turns into love making. Gentle, loving, slow, passionate.
・Long strokes, in and out of you while kissing every part of your face from above, nuzzling his face into your neck.
・Has a massive breeding kink (even if your body does not have the means to create a child); he likes to talk dirty while pumping into you.
"That's it, let me cum inside you my love. I want to put a child in you."
・When you agree with a whimper, it sends him over the edge. Hot ropes of cum shooting inside you.
・Sihtric keeps pumping though. The fantasy of having a large family with you made his cock hard again.
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terapsina · 6 months
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Now that the writers and actors strike is about to begin being felt (and as we wait for those greedy billion dollar companies who are refusing to negotiate fair pay and conditions to give up) here's 10 of my favorite (all around best) fully finished older series you should definitely check out if you haven't watched.
I mean it, these are the shows with continuously great writing and a satisfying endings that manage to actually deliver on their promises.
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1. Leverage - (containing 5 seasons, or 77 episodes) - trailer here.
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Hitter, Hacker, Grifter, Thief and Mastermind. Heists and cons. Stealing from the rich and giving to their victims. They provide... leverage.
Meant for anyone who enjoys bad guys being the best good guys, who will burn down the lives of evil CEOs and then gloat in the background. Very satisfying.
Hands down the best example of a found family trope I've ever seen on screen. Barring none.
2. Killjoys - (containing 5 seasons, or 50 episodes) - trailer here.
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Space Bounty Hunters. Another case of found family trope. Bisexual space princess assassin. Quippy sentient ship. Green alien goo. Evil lesbians (but like... in a good way). The warrant is all.
More seriously though, it's a story about three killjoys and the bounties they go after. Initially. And then they have to save the entire Quad from some very terrifying... stuff.
Contains one of the best friendships I've ever seen on television.
3. Orphan Black - (containing 5 seasons, or 50 episodes) - trailer here.
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Found family trope but with clones.
Low level grifter sees a woman who looks exactly like her kill herself and plans to take over her identity long enough to cash out. Except then there's two other women who also look exactly like her. And apparently they're all clones and someone's killing them.
Enter a global conspiracy. Human experimentation. Lots of clone shenanigans. Some serial killings. And a few murders 💖.
4. Person of Interest - (containing 5 seasons, or 103 episodes) - trailer here.
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Okay I'm beginning to see how I might have a found family trope issue.
Former CIA agent gets recruited by a reclusive billionaire computer programmer who developed a... machine that can predict acts of terror before they happen. But it also predicts 'irrelevant' acts of violence that will result in someone's death.
Unless someone interferes.
I'd really like to spoil some stuff to get you all to watch this one. But I'm going to maintain self control and just mention that early on they get a dog named Bear. Bear is a very good boy. Watch it for Bear.
Also for excellent commentary on rights of privacy, government surveillance and what does 'greater good' even mean? But mostly Bear.
5. 12 Monkeys - (containing 4 seasons, or 47 episodes) - trailer here.
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The very best time travel show out there. What starts out as a confusing mess of causality basically exploding, by the end of the series all makes complete and total sense.
(when that final timey-whimey loop slid into place and revealed the entire pattern it was like a choir of angels started singing in the back of my head. It was freaking glorious).
Anyway, a man from a post apocalyptic future travels into the past to stop a plague from decimating nearly the entire world population.
He has the name of the man who released the virus and it's supposed to be a single trip. One trip. One bullet. Simple. Done.
Except then things keep escalating, and escalating until time begins eating its own tail and it might start looking like the end of the world might be a better ending than erasing all of time and space from reality.
Because when our guys screw it up, they screw it up GOOD.
And oh yeah... found family.
6. The Good Place - (containing 4 seasons, or 53 episodes) - trailer here.
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A self-proclaimed Arizona dirtbag opens her eyes and finds out that she's dead and got accepted in the Good Place. Except that as soon as she arrives the Good Place starts glitching, and she really, REALLY needs to become a better person before she can be found out and kicked out to the Bad Place.
Luckily her assigned soulmate was a professor of ethics and moral philosophy.
One of the funniest, most thoughtful and clever comedies I've ever watched. Ever. The characters are delightful and by the time the final minute rolled around I had sobbed my heart out multiple times (which, as we all know, is a sign of the very best comedies out there).
As for the question of whether or not this too contains Found Fami- Yes! Obviously, yes.
7. Avatar: the Last Airbender - (containing 3 seasons, or 61 episodes) - intro here (couldn't locate the trailer but it's basically the same thing in this case).
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The four nations lived in harmony. Until the Fire Nation attacked.
It's been a hundred years since the beginning of the war when two kids from the Southern Water Tribe find a boy frozen in ice and wake him up. A boy who's able to bend all four elements... though not very well.
Enter multi-nation flying road trip (thank you Appa, we love you most of all) as they try to find teachers for the Avatar and save the world.
Includes found family (shut up), amazing fight scenes, the most heartfelt and vivid characters ever, and the best example of a redemption arc actually done well.
8. Love Between Fairy and Devil - (containing 1 season, or 36 episodes) - trailer here.
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This one gutted me. I'm saying this as a compliment. But it had to be said. Completely destroyed me. I just haven't been the same.
A love story between an Orchid Fairy and the leader of the Moon Tribe that starts out with her accidentally releasing him from millennia long imprisonment and then takes you through the caleidoscope of all possible human emotions (it's a body-swap comedy through the first part, then a romcom, then a dramatic romantic tale, and finally a tragic love story).
But it's such a satisfying slow burn.
And it carries this... humanity through the whole thing that makes it so visceral.
If you're a romantic who's very tired of instalove and characters dropping all their morals because 'ooh, attractive person' then you've got to watch this. Because this story does NOT take the easy road there.
(my more extensive rec for this series can be found here)
9. Star Wars: The Clone Wars - (containing 7 seasons, or 133 episodes) - fanmade trailer here (it was better than any of the official ones).
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This series did so much. Introduced Ahsoka Tano, and made us love her. Gave names and faces and souls to the Clone Troopers (okay, it's the same face but you know what I mean), to a point where their endings during Order 66 destroyed me just as much as the ending of the Jedi Order. And somehow made me both love Anakin AND be a million times more angry with him.
There are some arcs in this series that might be a bit weaker. But there were some... god, there's a reason I love Clone Wars more than any other series or trilogy in this universe. And I'm not even a little ashamed to say it.
Must watch for Disaster Lineage shenanigans; for the vod'e; AND for the Jedi (who did their best okay? They always did their best 😭💔).
(and on the subject of found family... do I even need to comment)
10. Nikita - (containing 4 seasons, or 73 episodes) - trailer here.
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A rogue assassin that escaped Division - covert government agency that takes recruits out of prison, fakes their deaths and then forces them to become spies and assassins - has come back to take it down. Brick by brick if she has to. With guns and explosives too when that works better.
Contains soooo many cool fight scenes. Is full of incredible characters you'll fall in love with (and hate with) very quickly. And most of all has an incredibly complex relationship of mentorship and friendship between two women that holds both great admiration and betrayal, real care and love as well as rage and hatred, forgiveness, mutual respect and an unbreakable kind of bond that so very rarely involves even one female character on TV, let alone two.
(as usual, found family tropes up the wazzoo).
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In conclusion. We all know there's going to be a large space between seasons of our favorite shows now (and some shows that aren't going to survive it). Let's fill that space with some excellent TV we haven't had a chance to see yet.
And direct the blame for the wait towards the right place (i.e. the studios).
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adrift-in-thyme · 24 days
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Happy belated birthday @luna-lovegreat !!! Here’s the Sky fluff I promised!
So sorry this took me awhile to finish!
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“Just how strong is the bond between a loftwing and a Skyloftian?”
Sky has been asked that question quite often since plummeting to the surface. Even more so after he ventured from his timeline. He never truly knows how to reply. How can he explain their relationship? How can he put into words the utter exhilaration of soaring atop your loftwing?
From what he has observed, people usually place platonic love — and especially the platonic love between human and beast — somewhere beneath both romantic and familial, as though it is an inferior thing. As though it can never reach the same heights and depths as the others. The same precious worth. But Sky knows differently.
The love a loftwing and their rider share is like nothing else. As priceless and unbreakable as a diamond.
So, when, finally, a portal spits the heroes out in his era, Sky is overjoyed.
He can see Sun for the first time in forever, wrap her in his loving arms, hold her close and breathe her in, and whisper everything he’s wanted to tell her all these long months. He can see his friends, his family, the place that will always be his home, no matter how far he travels or what monsters he battles.
And —
He separates from Sun, runs to Lofty as the bird lands in a rush of wind and feathers. A grin splits his face and it feels good to smile after everything, so, so good…
— and he can reunite with his loftwing.
“Wow!” Wind gasps, mouth agape. “So, that’s a loftwing?”
“Close that mouth of yours before you swallow a bug,” Twilight teases, setting a hand on the sailor’s shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile. “He’s beautiful, Sky.”
Lofty preens beneath the praise, ruffling his feathers and throwing back his head. Sun chuckles, and Sky sends her a grin.
“He is, isn’t he?” He sighs, leaning his forehead against Lofty’s beak. The next words leave his lips in a whisper meant only for the glorious animal before him…though if the beautiful woman standing close beside him hears he won’t mind. “I missed you so much, Lofty.”
A low trill emanates from the bird.
“He has missed you too,” Sun murmurs. “I’ve taken him out for a few flights to keep his wings limber. But you know he truly flies for no one except you.” She cocks her head, a grin on her lips. “You should take him out for a flight.”
He turns to her, a question in his eyes. It’s been so long, after all. He feels as though he hardly has enough time to catch up with them both. Much less Gaepora and Groose and everyone else….
“Are you sure, Zel?”
Sun nods and the breeze lifts her golden locks. “Go on, sleepyhead. We’ll have all the time in the world to spend together once you get back.”
Sky breathes in deep.
That’s right. They have time now. For the first time in a while, they have time.
He raises his eyes to Lofty’s, excitement alighting in his chest.
“You wanna go for a flight, Lofty?”
Feathers fly as the bird straightens, shaking himself out. His proud cry reverberates around the space.
Sky leans over, presses a kiss to Sun’s lips. And then, surrounded by the echoes of oohs and awws and ews that sound from his brothers, he climbs atop the loftwing’s back and is off.
The sky is a brilliant blue today. And while it’s always a brilliant blue in Skyloft – has been since he was born – Sky can still appreciate its splendor.
Even the brightest, most joyful heavenly display in another Hyrule cannot measure up to the plush clouds and soaring ceruleans of his home. And as Lofty climbs higher and higher, he feels a wide grin stretch his lips.
It is wonderful to be home.
He had known that he missed it – this little island full of vibrancy and life. The longing had eaten at him during the long nights and dogged at his steps through their arduous journey. But he supposes he had suppressed it to an extent — denied it even — if only to keep going. If only to keep from crumbling beneath the fear that always captures him when he sets foot on firm, grounded earth.
The fear that he will never again take to the skies.
But now as Lofty turns his grand body in a barrel roll and his sailcloth lifts and the wind sings in his ears and fills his nostrils with exhilarating freshness, those dark feelings are miles away.
Lofty pauses abruptly at the tail end of the trick. Then, he dives, plunging downward so suddenly that Sky’s stomach plummets along with him. His grin grows wider even as the brisk air steals any moisture from his mouth. He’ll be choking later, more than likely. But he is used to it by now.
A dry throat is a small price to pay.
Lofty shoots up, goes down again. Another pointed spin takes out a drifting octo. Sky’s echoing whoop turns to almost giddy laughter.
“Having fun, sleepyhead?” Someone calls from his right. Sky looks up just in time to catch sight of Sun streaking towards him. Her loftwing flips upside down as they soar over his head. Her delicate fingers reach for his and for a split second, the world seems to slow.
“Sorry,” she says as their fingers brush in the ghost of a caress, “I couldn’t resist joining you.”
Lofty lets out an eager call of welcome and Sky smiles.
“I’m glad you did, Zelda.”
She smiles and the world seems to grow a little brighter.
It always does when she’s around…
“How about a race, then?” She inclines her head toward the minuscule forms standing on the edge of Skyloft. “They’ve already cast bets.”
Sky chuckles. “All in favor of you, I’m sure.”
She doesn’t reply. But her smile grows just a touch larger, a hint of mischief in it.
Sky shakes his head.
He’ll admit it hurts a little to be betrayed by his brothers in such a way. They’re right though.
The only person who could ever beat him in a fair race was Sun.
“Alright.” His grin is more fierce now, teeth bared in playful determination. “You’re on!”
Yes, he thinks as they streak toward the designated finish line, the tips of their loftwings’ wings just touching, the bond between a loftwing and their partner is strong. As strong as the love he feels for Zelda. As strong as the love he feels for his brothers.
His family.
And maybe in it’s own way…even stronger.
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forbidden-sunlight · 1 year
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False Garden of Eden [yandere!various!csm x stoic!reader]
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Credit goes to @hana-no-seiiki for inspiring and collaborating with me to write this piece that is based off their current CSM series Chainsaw and Happiness Pillbox [link to story is here!] and @lyomeii for proofreading/editing, especially with that one I was stuck on lol :)
The intention of this story is for entertainment purposes only, it is not my personal belief(s). The behavior exhibited here is inappropriate and unhealthy, hence it should not be encouraged.  There are also triggers, so please take caution. You are responsible for your Internet consumption!
Content and Trigger Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Strong Language, Gaslighting, Stalking, Toxic Relationships, Toxic Behavior.
Humanity disgusted you.
For all their philosophical talk on the importance of imperfections and cherishing all life around them, their greed knew no bounds. Even when they had a roof over their heads or a warm meal in their bellies or hadn’t had their lives cut short by disaster, they wanted more. More, more, more. You knew it was only a matter of time before their mistakes became their undoing….but why did your husband love these pitiful creatures like an owner fawning over their precious dog? It baffled you. But to her credit, Makima was quite good at that; a great manipulator who lured others into Public Safety when they were at their lowest, and those who defied her commands would be on their knees, begging for mercy. Just like what she had done to you all of those years ago.
The chains she had coiled around your body was a contract of fidelity; a marriage, a vow to love and protect each until ‘death do us part’. In her terms, ‘love’ meant being an obedient wife who should kiss or embrace their weary husband after a troublesome day at work, and vice versa. Obviously, Makima referred to herself as the husband. It was her right as the ancient, powerful Control Devil to protect the pitiful Dreaming Devil. This unfortunate person was you, of course.
Sighing, you hoisted yourself up from the ground with gloved hands on your knees, using one to wipe the sweat on your brow before glancing around the valley. This area had been protected for the last century from being demolished and turned into a condominium because it was within the jurisdiction of a shrine outside Tokyo. And for the last century, it has served as a secret place for you to escape the city and remove yourself from the mask of a devil hunter in the Intelligence sector.
To bask in the solitude of nature for a few glorious hours before returning to the home that you shared with Makima. The priest did not mind if you planted seeds for a small garden, so long as you did not do anything to anger the gods’ resting place. A small price to pay for a ‘contract’ that allowed you to have freedom. In the time you have found this place, the small garden became a chaotic, lush area. And you would not have it any other way…except perhaps not two crows that you knew were under Makima’s control.
It was her way of respecting your privacy with a little….surveillance. You repaid such kindness by flipping up your middle finger and blowing a raspberry.
Yet despite the feeling of tranquility that flows over your stressed body, to be able to inhale the air in your lungs and just breath from the leash she had around your collar you knew deep down that this is not true freedom. Aware and you wanted more than just a garden to be free. You wanted to leave Tokyo and never come back. To go to some hidden corner of the world where no one, not even Makima, would even dream to think you would go.
You frowned. Wonderful. Now you felt like a hypocrite because of your excessive greed for freedom. Because without this garden, you knew you would have gone insane much sooner than your current mindset, being slowly and meticulously chipped away by Makima’s machinations until her focus reverted to Denji.
The boy who was a shell to the Chainsaw Devil. Her idol, the Hero of Hell. He was everything to Makima….but to you, he was dangerous. As the Dreaming Devil, you were both a strong and weak devil. You thrived on the fear from the poor souls who were trapped in the illusion of their worst nightmares - a tactic that your husband has used on more than one occasion in an interrogation with a stubborn suspect - and yet with dreams themselves, pure and impure, they made you weak. Since Denji’s mindscape was full of these dreams, he was less than an ideal partner to be around when devil hunting. Especially since Makima had every intention of using you as an incentive for the kid and ensuring his absolute obedience towards Public Safety.
So why didn’t it bother you as much as you thought it should? Did it have something to do with the Chainsaw Devil himself? Or were you just being stupid?
More importantly, why the fuck did Makima have to bring him home, of all the dogs she could have possibly selected? She knows how dangerous the Chainsaw Devil is. If the ‘dog’ had been another Hayakawa Aki, then there wouldn’t have been too many issues.
Well-known asshole and a competent Public Safety official, at least Aki knew when to stand down, or at the very least be much more aware of the situation than Denji was.
You still did not understand why his face always turned red when he was within your vicinity. Humans had weaker immune systems than devils, so he could just be sickly from making too many contracts than the average hunter.
Still doesn’t explain why you would run into him even though you never tell anyone where you’d be in the city. Even Denji would just so happen to be nearby when he ran up to greet you like an enthusiastic mutt.
Shaking your head, you resumed your work in the garden. Once weeding had been finished and some of the bushes trimmed, the skies began to transmute into a dark blueish color, overriding the reddish-orange hues of the remaining daylight. Ah. You have been here too long. It was time to go. Back to the cage that was a ‘home’ to Makima and her dogs.
Fumbling around in your pants pocket, your deft fingers removed a glass vial filled with sand. Pulling up the cork, you shook out the sand and murmured under your breath, allowing it to engulf your body in a vortex and teleport you approximately half a block from the condominium.
It wasn’t hard to see why the Dreaming Devil was also known as the Sandman to the humans who feared them so.
Wiping off some of the dirt on your shoulders and pants, the Dreaming Devil who craved freedom was gone, and in its place was a stoic human who worked under the Public Safety’s Intelligence sector, [First Name] [Last Name].
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When she got off of the elevator on the third floor, Makima smiled. Ah, her wife was finally home from gardening and had dinner almost ready. She hadn’t intended to stay at the office until late, but Denji needed an extra incentive. Or would it be considered a punishment to fondle his superior’s chest when it was obvious that he’s lusting after her spouse?
She blinked for a moment, then shook her head. Well, either way, he was motivated to kill the Gun Devil. Promising a puppy that he’d get anything he wanted in exchange for destroying an enemy was effective. She briskly walked down the carpeted hall and towards a door with 307 etched in golden lettering. With a quick turn of the key, she stepped into the hallway and was immediately bombarded by her precious pups.
Makima gave a short laugh, her grin widening as she gave each of them a good scratch behind the ears. “Yes, Custard, Papa is home. Were you good for Mother today? I hope you were too, Tiramisu, or no special treat for you tonight. The same goes for you, Strawberry! Don’t think Mother did not tell me about how you tried to chew up the television remote again! You know that isn’t a toy.”
Once all of her precious children were given affection, she walked into the kitchen and saw her sweet spouse standing in the kitchen cleaning the dirty dishes. Makima glanced over at the dining room table and saw that everything had just been plated. Miso soup, grilled fish with rice, and boiled veggies. A typical Japanese staple, minus the wine glasses filled with a visceral red she was all too familiar with.
Although devils did not need human food to sustain their appetite, Makima truly appreciated the time and effort her wife had put into planning the meals they shared. Especially acquiring blood without tipping off any of the other tenants. Yet what caught her attention was [First Name]’s shoulders. She was shivering. Did she forget to put on a sweater after taking a shower?
Goodness, she was a forgetful one, wasn’t she?
But that’s all right. This is why the Dreaming Devil had a reliable husband to look after her well-being.
“Is everything all right?” Makima asked as she approached [First Name] from behind, wrapping her hands around her spouse and resting her chin on the devil’s shoulders. “It isn’t very cold in the apartment? Did you spend too much time outside again?”
[First Name] did not answer. Instead she kept scrubbing dishes in the sink with a soapy sponge, hot water spewing from the faucet. Yellow orbs widened slightly as realization hit Makima.
Ah. Is she afraid that something bad happened at work earlier today and she’d be punished for it? Silly, silly spouse.
“If you’re waiting on something, don’t worry.” Makima felt [First Name]’s body quiver even more when she tightened her grip on her spouse’s middle. “I love you very much, [First Name], and would never allow anything or anyone to hurt you. No one will ever lay a finger on you but me.”
Denji...and Aki....they might look at her wife but they will never lay a hand on her. Although she has been a good girl and never interacted with anyone except for the cashiers at the grocery store they will never stop covering what they desire the person who is hers by divine right.
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@hana-no-seiiki
@lyomeii
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uchihaharlot · 1 month
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Can you do jealous Madara + NSFW, pls.🥹
Your anon.♥︎
Anon 🤍 always lovely to have your Madara requests. I hope you are well. Sorry I took so long, I made it extra long for you ☺️
NSFW; stalking; obsessive Madara; you are his and no one else’s; inappropriate use of genjutsu.
— Madara is a naturally jealous man. Anything some else can do, he does better and if he can’t. He is green with envy. So when he sees Hashirama making sweet words at the woman he’s been pining after. All gloves are off.
— They already have a convoluted friend/enemy relationship. This just irks him to a new level. Obsessive behavior to damn near self sabotage proportions.
— Tails her every move. Mapping her every day with sharingan precision. Becomes very good at making his appearances look like an accident. Also knows to keep them infrequent enough that she doesn’t suspect his stalking tendencies.
— By this point, Hashirama has lost interest, that and he doesn’t wake up on the side of lunacy every day like Madara. Even with zero competition to keep him on edge, his hawkish eyes are always at her back.
— When the timing is right, Madara corners this woman. Casting her under a heavy and powerful genjutsu. Secluding them from the world around them. She’s wholly terrified but is incapable of lifting the anchor. He doesn’t mean to come off as malicious, Madara is just exceedingly…terrible when it comes to these things. Which is an oxymoron considering half the village views him as a sex symbol.
— ‘Don’t be alarmed.’ Maybe he should have started this conversation outside of an artificial world? This girl is having a hard time believing that Madara doesn’t harbor ill intentions. Not until he places a palm on her cheek and thumbs her wrist. ‘I’d be so good to you.’
— crash.exe, girls brain is just inundated with the thick atmosphere of his genjutsu. Yet there is something unholy and arousing about a man who would use his prowess to garner her affections. That he just went from zero to a thousand in a blink of an eye. But really; what could you expect from an Uchiha. When something or someone catches there eye, there’s not a lot that would discourage them from obtaining it.
— ‘Uchiha Madara, is this any way to treat a lady?’ Oh, so she has a mouth on her? Wonderful. This only excites him further. To top it off, she doesn’t shy away from his hardened gaze., but rather gently leans into his touch. ‘Your presence hasn’t gone unnoticed…’
— Oh; yea. She knew. If Madara thought he had wool over this girls perception. He was a blind fool. Maybe he hadn’t of been so sneaky, ‘can you blame me?’ Well; no. She couldn’t. She rather enjoyed the cat and mouse game. In fact, it was all apart of this scheme of hers anyways.
— The old bait and switch; classic hunter becomes the hunted. The moment she saw the ire in his glowering at that social between Hashirama and her. It was game, set and match. Definitely let Hashi in on her madness, which any opportunity to annoy Madara and help a dear old friend is a blessing.
— Madara couldn’t even be mad. The tenacity of this girl outplaying him and knowingly allowing him to chase her like a dog around the village was almost endearing. Which when she ended up up beneath him, made it all the more glorious.
— Or, he ended up underneath her instead. The genjutsu was easily manipulated and broken—so she’s keeping secrets now? Thank god that he cornered her in a secluded area. Madara in this moment imagined there wasn’t anything in existence that felt better when looking down and already finding his cock in her mouth. Plump lips sucking the tip gingerly, making his head tilt back. Two hands stroking his aching girth.
— More devilishly tantalizing was her shoving him to the ground and rucking her dress up, panties aside and sitting his full length without allowing him a single breath to spare. The low gutteral moan that came out his mouth, was too, stolen from him when her lips met his. ‘Ask and you shall receive…’ was all she deliberated.
— The soft warm heat of her cunt, swelled and thrummed around his aching cock. When was the last time Madara had been in the position of being taken this way? Probably not since he was younger, if at all. She’s hotter than any katon heat his lungs could muster in this moment. Not allowing him an inch to breathe or maneuver her hips any way he would like.
— Completely and utterly orbits the moment the warmth plush of her sopping wet heat pulsates around his cock. It sends a shiver to his testicles and a shock up through his heart when she cums and moans his name out. Reducing Madara to a sixty second man in the five minutes she had him pinned. His warm cum spreads and fills her as she fucks it into her.
— ‘Gods…’ was the first word he spoke after they catch their breath, and ‘…does this mean…you’re mine?’ Is the first question he asks once post nut clarity makes room. Of course she was his, after all that? There wasn’t any other option.
— Once they gather their bearings, fix clothing and hair: Madara is so gentlemanly. Aside from being fucked with reckless abandon. He takes her out to the finest restaurant the following evening and then brings her back to his place for a more proper fuck.
— One where she is inoperable the second they enter his home. Kissed up against the wall, making their way to his bed. Clothes and shoes litter the hall, and she ends up beneath him this time. Panting and pleading as his lips worship that cute soft pussy of hers. Tongue and lips nipping and sucking. Drinking her orgasm as it spills over his mouth and tongue.
— Holding her down in the mating press as he divides her seam and drives slow and deep. The soft mewls of his name on her lips fill the room louder and louder each time she cums. ‘…keep saying my name like that..’
— Though pretty soon he’s saying her name just a loud and heavy. Lowly grunting in the crook of her neck when he pumps her full, for the second time this evening. How many hours had they been laid up in bed now? Several at least.
— She stays the night and it’s not even weird the next morning when she wakes up to see him buck ass naked sitting on the porcelain throne. They have breakfast and consider making a title for themselves… eventually.
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ventique18 · 10 months
Note
There are all these takes online now after Chap 7 part 3 that by Malleus taking Yuu out of all of everyone's dreams, completely erasing them from everyone's minds and basically banishing them to alter Ramshackle that that somehow means Malleus doesn't care for Yuu, since his "perfect world" is one without Yuu. Yuu is an obstacle from him protecting Lilia and that's why he's also mad at Silver for breaking everyone (including Lilia) out of their perfect dreams, and I COULD NOT AGREE LESS. This is the same Malleus manchild that doesn't quite understand complex, heavy emotions and copes by lashing out and not thinking ahead. It couldn't be any more clear that for him, it's easier to have never met Yuu and gone through that heartache than to deal with the pain of them leaving.
TWST SPOILERS!!
If he didn't care about Yuu, he'd literally just let them be a background character in everyone's dreams, yeah? Label them as Student A for all he cares. The fact that he bothered enough to erase this "tiny detail" is extremely telling that he recognizes this person has significant impact and not just some dog fucking around on the street lol.
And about protecting someone, I think it's not just Lilia. He's convinced himself that he's saving everyone as if he's some sort of god; and I would not be surprised at all if he legitimately thought he was a god. Because that's literally how he was raised and how people around him treat him. He's power-tripping, and that might actually also be a contributing factor as to why he literally erased Yuu from his world. Because Yuu never looked at him as a god, and that's an insecurity for his overblot-infested brain that there's one non-believer in his utopia.
He's running on full adrenaline right now and it's impossible for him to think clearly. Everything he's doing is because of emotions. Yuu is an anomaly to his utopia, as they have always been. His desire to stop feeling sadness and pain won over and like an aggressive antivirus, he literally just quarantined them in some special place because he just can't think straight and doesn't know what to do with them.
When he looks at them, he can only feel loneliness, emptiness, sadness. Just like how he articulated his sorrow at Ramshackle in Book 6. Unlike Lilia, Silver, and Sebek who he's known for many years, Yuu is something completely new to him; they're the opposite of his eternity. What he wants is everything to stay the same, and Yuu is the uncertainty that barged in his life and could take away a piece of his heart anytime they pleased.
There is a familiar comfort in his found-family-- like a "tradition" that follows the script and wouldn't go wrong, but in Yuu... There is excitement. There is childish wonder. There is happy anticipation. But that anticipation could turn into utter disappointment anytime, and he's scared of that. He mentioned in Glorious Masquerade of his great excitement in stepping into a new world, but also of the terrible fear of disappointment, so we know that Yuu may embody this "modern" feeling him.
The sane him likes this, but his id does not. He's terrified of losing control. And Yuu is something he cannot control. Yuu is someone who can oppose him and inflict pain straight to his deepest weakness, and as a "god" he does not want that. Yuu is his achilles heel.
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fountainpenguin · 2 months
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"You're on your own- So what? Have you gone blind? Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours?" (x)
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For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)
❤️ Read on AO3
💛 Complete! - 7/7 chapters - 37k words
💚 More Neighborhood Watch AU
I just finished a chill, T-rated found family 'fic from my "Life Series but it's a single timeline" AU project. Check it out!
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Synopsis: When Grian Ties’g was 16, the last Totem of Undying in the known world swapped his soul with the Grian one universe to the left… sparing him a perma-death, but at what cost?
An overwhelmed Grian Xelqua - who did not sign up for this, thank you very much - jolts awake in a world where Red Names are no joke and stealing someone’s life is fair play.
And a very Red Tango now has a sword at his throat. ❤️
(First 1,300 words under the cut)
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For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)
Those Who Came Before
🖤  🖤  ❤️
The first Totem of Undying in the Four Lands passed through the wrinkled hands of many wealthy folks in Crimson City before falling into possession of a princess who went Red young and fled her home. She kept it all her life, but when the time came to breathe her last, she unwound it from its place at her bosom and clasped it around the neck of her only son.
"I've lived enough," she simply said. "I've led so long and you've been faithful. Go now and do as you see fit with your given lives."
Steve Wandering watched his mother die as he had watched his father, burying the memories of both with shovel and silence. He'd always been a silent man. He took up his sword and from then on traveled decade after decade, sharing food with the needy and braving the hissing creatures of the night. He invented many things, discovered many treasures, and died glorious in a fight against the Dragon That Ends All.
And lived.
And lost those memories like the wind.
The second Totem of Undying in the Four Lands belonged to Alex Wolftamer in the east, who claimed to care not for the treasure passed down through her ancestral line of Wolf Kings and Queens. They had no palace, but called themselves such titles in their stand against Kingdom Crimson. Rather than flaunt that totem around her own neck, she wrapped it like a collar at the throat of her dog. Across the years, far too many people of sinister desire fought sword and pick to win her hand or win the hunting hound. It's with a shout and diamond axe that she lunged at the cloaked stranger who ventured through the valley forest. With cheery, bellyaching laugh, Herobrine caught her hand and spun her dangerously near the mountain drop.
"Why should I take from your beloved she-wolf?" he asked, and dangled a totem from his own wrist where she could see. "I've already got one. I did not come to take what loved ones gave unto you, but to inquire of your wisdom… for I have no one I love as much as you care for your dear wolf. I am but a cowardly man who's worn the totem for himself for security and peace. I cannot imagine surrendering it. Tell me, warrior… How did you find such inner peace?"
"Who says I have?"
"What ails you, then?"
"I fear the encroach of the Red Army. Their farms extend ever nearer to our forests. Their high-ranking officers, bearing the Hand mark upon their chests, come demanding tribute and insist we raise their banner. So many from our village have sought the safety of their walls. I wish for nothing but food for my dogs, repairs for my roof, and safe passage through the land."
"Ah… What have you done to incite their displeasure?"
"I haven't raised hand against them unless they've come directly in conflict with me."
"How frequent are their conflicts?"
"They've claimed our cows. They flood the roads to market with lava and have taken two lives- nearly three. They harass the trades I make with my own neighbors of my own free will."
"Let us go secretly, then, and burn the walls that have reached your valley's edge."
They married two years later, and it was four after that that Alex fell from a great height, one arm wrapped around her canine companion and the other reaching for a husband who lunged and missed her hand vanishing from the cliff. Alex hit the ground a block away from the rushing river that saved her dog.
And lived.
And lost those memories like rain. Not even the dog recognized her then, growling and nipping when Alex rose to her feet, and Snowflake followed Herobrine when they parted ways. They say he never took Snowflake's totem from her collar, but that Snowflake wriggled out of it the day after Alex died, took the chain in her teeth, and presented it to him with grief in her dark eyes. It may be just a story - a personification of a ragged beast - but it's a prettier tale than the alternative way this tale could end.
That third Totem of Undying, the one that Herobrine Mapcrafter wore on his wrist for much of his life, originated from the North. It tumbled through the hands of wizards and they say Herobrine was gifted it for his proven mastery in breaching the Nether dimension- the secrets of which had only been held by the Westlands until now.
Prior his apprenticeship beneath the wizards' eyes, he'd been raised a cartographer. Following the death of Alex, he took up mapmaking again with Snowflake by his side. He entered the Nether dimension for what he knew would be his final time. They never came out again and no record survives depicting full details. People speak often that he perhaps saved a community of Netherborn folks from a hissing, snarling Wither Boss that clawed its way out of the ground. Others whisper he released that Wither himself out of grief and wished for death. Witnesses claim he leapt before the beast, taking the hit on Snowflake's behalf.
And lived.
And lost those memories like they'd been scorched alive. They say he went mad, never the same again. Some claim they've seen Snowflake's white fur dashing through the Nether even now, her howl weeping for her masters and the moon and the feel of grass beneath her paws.
The last Totem of Undying in the Four Lands (rumor claimed) lay hidden in the Southlands. For three decades since the rise of the Dragon That Ends All, the unremarkable little thing drifted and tumbled and snagged or… something of the sort. Details unknown. It passed into the sewers at some undefinable point, where it floated until it didn't. It caught and clung to the sewer's edge year after year after year.
There it stayed until a ragtag tangle of friends - a trio - sought shelter in the tunnels after their brotherhood of Bad Boys split and turned against each other. They trekked without hesitation into the grime, for they were Red of name and disgust could graze them not. The youngest, with his gray and yellow wings, sat down near the entrance to clean an open wound. The eldest began to organize their meager food supply. The middle child, aged only 16, waded deeper through the passageway, wandering with little purpose but to scout for things to have; things to take. Red Lives, as a rule, are very, very greedy.
The totem lasted exactly 4 minutes and 36 seconds in Grian Ties'g's possession. He found it tangled among the filth and wasted no time taking it for himself. To prevent his fellow Bad Boys from sniping it away, he scrambled up a dirty shaft to the surface like an eel gifted flight. His wings were soaked from sewage water, so he did not fly. He bolted across the open field, laughing like a madman.
"Yes! YESSSS!"
His foot crossed a boundary line he never could have seen. Grian charged straight into a shrieker trap laced with TNT. Set them all off. He died to the gasping cheers of a Red who'd only just finished all the set-up. The last thing he ever heard was the "OH-hoh-hoh-ohhh!" of a shrieking onlooker. He blew up instantly, scarlet feathers and blobs of purple soul energy scattered in all directions. The central core melted free from flesh and dribbled to the ground in a gooey heap.
In a word? Perma-killed. The totem vaporized before anyone ever confirmed he had it, so people seek it in the Southlands even now (It might be right here; it's been hiding right here).
This story is not about that Grian. Not anymore. It's about the one who lived… whose memories do not match this world at all.
[ Full 'fic up on AO3 ]
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brainwroms · 8 months
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my c!clingy playlist as of 28/07/23 youtube (incomplete) / spotify (incomplete) / full playlist
list of songs and sometimes notes in read more
01 ダイヤモンドハッピー - aikatsu ost note: to me this is their little early days song... like lets do it! yes!
02 ふたりのきもちのほんとのひみつ - kill me baby ost no note
03 decretum - madoka magica ost no note
04 thinking of you thinking of me - bogdan raczynski no note
05 at the crown of eternal sunlight - cats millionaire note: really weird interpretation but to me this takes place exile/nlm arc
06 kill all your friends - black dresses note: THE c!clingy s2 song... chose the black dresses version for the general vibe of this playlist, but the mcr version works just as well
07 P3RISH3D死んだ - bliss3three no note
08 poor grammar - roar no note
09 friends with you - the scary jokes note: specific timeframe during exile/nlm where during their separation they start to really miss eachother, beyond the possible resentment they may feel
10 the center of the world - bright eyes no note
11 cartoon network - black dresses no note
12 dog - gezebelle gaburgably no note
13 princess lunas glorious grilled cheese sandwiches - cats millionaire note: i usually think of this as specifically c!tommy
14 bloom - black dresses no note
15 fun fun fun - cats millionaire note: i usually think of this as specifically c!tubbo
16 before the world was big - girlpool no note
17 a home for flowers (empty) - omori ost no note
18 forever - alex g no note
19 pink funeral - beach house no note
20 through me - beach house no note
21 airstream dream - teenage kitchen no note
22 final wish - ooxygen no note
23 1000000 yellow butterflies - bliss3three no note
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doomspaniels · 1 year
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It's Guinevere's third birthday! Let's go for a walk.
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You coming? Let's GOOOOO!
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Go and go and go!
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HERE
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SHE
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COMES
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Here she is, in her loveliness.
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You ready? Let's get going again!
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alder-saan · 10 months
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Her scent
Larissa Weems x gn! reader
tw: pure angst, death, loss, mourning, major character death, spoil Wednesday season 1
words count: 3k
enjoy :)
(thanks to @weemssapphic and @pro-weems-places who I harassed with angsty snippets :))
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The thing you loved most in the entire world was definitely Larissa’s scent. Floral _you could distinguish orange blossom, jasmine, wisteria, and violet_ lingering on everything she ever touched, strong yet soft, but mostly, it was hers. It marked her belongings. The fragrances tinted the air of her home, like the first layer of a painting that would represent her. They covered her clothes, softly, almost unperceivable after being washed, but your nostrils were used to recognise them anywhere, and when you buried your face into the fabric, they wrapped you. They were hidden behind her doors, in each box or case, and would jump to your face whenever you would open one of them. They were scattered in her garden, between the orange tree, the jasmine bushes, the wisteria trellis arches, and the violet flowerbed. They anointed your skin, smeared by the so often wandering of her hands on your body, as the glorious elder of Larissa’s sacred heart, and even with no ring of the Fisherman, no tiara, no believers, you felt like a blessed priest when you were on your knees to worship her. It was her scent. It was her perfume. It was her very essence, in its little stained glass bottle, looking like liquid amber.
The bottle itself was one of the most beautiful things you ever saw. It was small, and had this beautiful very pale orange colour, so much so that the liquid inside was reminiscent of whisky. It had the shape of a sphere, a perfect sphere without any prominent line, testimony to the manufacturer, a sphere that had been cut at the bottom, for it to stay still, without falling on the floor, without cracking the cold shell and spilling the precious odorant fluid on the parquet, that would be stained by the fragrance, and that would have to be cleaned very carefully, for every little glass diamond to be removed, so as not to make this crime scene any worse. And if this glass bottle fell, the scent would probably stay forever on your floor, seeping into the rings of the wood, and staying here, like an old dog waiting for its master to come back. But if the bottle fell, no master would come back, and the old dog would die alone.
.
You had smelled this perfume for the first time at the Weathervane. This day was engraved so deeply in your memory, you knew nothing could ever erase it. And you already imagined yourself, old and wrinkled, forgetting your own name but not this day. It was Tuesday, the 17th of May, and you were in the Weathervane after your first day at your new job as a florist. You remembered this day was soft. It was sunny, and a little bit of wind was caressing the trees of the park. The rays were warming the table of your booth through the clean window. The door opened and the perfume flooded the room. The floral perfume, in which you automatically distinguished orange blossom, jasmine, wisteria, and violet, so strong but so soft, and which would linger in your mind so long after she would come out. But you didn’t know it yet. All that you knew then was that you liked it. 
Then she appeared in the sunlight. A divine apparition. An angel, a muse, a goddess. A tall, tall woman, with white, white hair, blue, blue eyes and a pale, pale skin. Her silver locks were perfectly pinned on her head, catching the evening gold light. You had held your breath, jaw agape, incapable of pulling your eyes out of her. She didn’t seem to notice you, although you weren’t discreet at all (you couldn’t even imagine being, your brain was focused on her and on nothing else). She was wearing a green dress with a matching green coat, and her hips swayed so deliciously as she was walking towards the waiter to order _your ear might or might not have heard she ordered a hot chocolate_. Takeaway. Her red lips twitched in a beautiful smile, and your whole body tensed. You wanted her to smile at you, not at that waiter. It was stupid, yes. You didn’t know her. And yet… And yet you couldn’t help but stare. She waited a couple of minutes during which you could detail her whole body. Her feet caught in those high-heeled shoes, her long legs in those tights, her dress under which you could guess the relief of the fat that hid her belly, creating this little shadow, the little bumps that made by her breasts, her cleavage revealing her collarbones, the golden necklace she wore, her hands in those black gloves, her long neck that would be the perfect refuge for the night, her so kissable lips, the creases that appeared when she smiled, her little nose, and those ocean blue eyes that were… looking right at you.
Your face went tomato red and you looked away, trying to concentrate on the coffee that was cooling in front of you. You had been caught staring. You tried to regain composure by taking out your phone, pretending you were writing to someone or something else. To be perfectly honest, you weren't sure what you were doing yourself. You could still feel her gaze on you, and it made you shiver.
“Larissa,” the waiter called.
“Yes,” the woman, Larissa, replied in her heavenly voice, walking towards him to take her hot chocolate.
You had a name to put on this pretty face. “Larissa,” you whispered, taking a little time to appreciate the very substance of the sounds on your lips. The “La” seemed to be withheld in your mouth, the “ri” was pleasant, like singing, and the “ssa” was escaping your lips so fast you couldn’t believe her name was already over. You heard her paying and then she passed in your visual field, heading out of the Weathervane. You looked at her again, from her back.
The door closed.
She had disappeared, but her perfume was still lingering in the room, in your nostril and your head.
.
The next day, you were sitting in the very same booth. You had paid particular attention to your appearance that morning, hoping perhaps to bump into Larissa (who didn't yet know your name) at the Weathervane after you'd closed the shop. You had almost finished your coffee, but you wanted to wait, to be sure you didn’t miss her. So you waited for a few minutes, watching the sun sinking on the horizon when the door opened and the scent invaded your nose. Orange blossom, jasmine, wisteria, and violet. She smiled at you as she passed your booth, and ordered her hot chocolate. On the spot. You heard her heels heading towards you. At first, you thought she was going to sit in the booth behind you, but she continued. Your eyes were glued to your nearly empty coffee as she stopped next to you.
“Is this seat taken?” she asked, pointing to the bench seat in front of you with her finger.
“Y-yes, I-I mean, no, you can sit if you want,” you stammered.
And she sat in front of you. She offered a big genuine smile, and the little scar above her upper lip deepened for a moment. You couldn’t pull your eyes out of her blue irises. 
“Are you new in town?”
“Very new, indeed. I arrived the day before yesterday,” you replied, smiling a bit.
She nodded silently, and her eyes wandered to your face. Your heartbeat in your ears, And for a moment, everything disappeared. It was her eyes, your heart, her perfume, and nothing. She was looking directly at your heart, at your soul. Those piercing blue eyes were magical. They were like the sea. They scared you. They seemed to attract you, and you felt yourself drowning for a moment. You were lost in the ocean, a deep blue ocean that smelled of orange blossom, jasmine, wisteria and violet. And if you died right there, it would probably be the best death you could ever think of.
The waiter came and brang Larissa’s drink. You found yourself back in the Weathervane.
“I didn’t quite catch your name,” she said.
“Uh… oh, Y/N.”
“Larissa.”
You knew it. You had heard it the previous day.
.
The following day, the scent entered your shop. You hadn’t still told her what your job was, and you looked at her, in her white dress, from the back shop for a few seconds before showing yourself. Her blue eyes widened at the sight of you.
“How can I help you, Larissa?” you asked.
“Well, I don’t know what flower to buy…”
“What occasion?”
“A date? … Sort of,” she replied
Your heart sank at these words. A date? She had a date? And she wanted to buy flowers for him… of for her… or for them. You suddenly felt cold and sad. It was probably stupid to think she was interested in you. She was just being friendly and you misunderstood the signals. She had already someone.
“Well, some roses or daisies are perfect for a date.”
“Then I will take some daisies, and if you could add violets, it’d be perfect.”
“Violets?”
“Yes,” and her cheeks turned pink.
Violets, huh? So she was… Anyway, it wasn’t your business. What she did in bed and with who was her life. Not yours.
You quickly picked the flowers and laced them together.
She paid and went out. You sighed. Her perfume was still there.
Later, you were about to quit your booth when you smelled her scent again. She went in the Weathervane, the daisies and violets in her hand. So she was about to have her date right there? You looked in the café, searching for someone that could fit her. But there was nobody. And she sat in front of you.
Oh?
Oh…
OH!
Your face went red at the realisation. You were her date.
“You should have told me you were the new florist! I wanted this to be a surprise!”
“Well, it is. I thought you were seeing someone else.”
She chuckled and handed you the flowers.
“That’s why you seemed… a bit lost? Were you jealous?”
“Not at all!”
And she laughed. And you loved her laughter.
.
And life went on. You would meet her every day. Sometimes she would go to your shop and buy flowers for you.
Months passed. You were partners.
After a year, you decided to live together.
.
That night, you were preparing yourself to welcome her back. She had had a hard time at her job, you knew it. She had told you about the Hyde, the traitor, and the Wednesday problem. You wanted her to feel better, to relax, at least for one night.
You had spent the entire day cooking for her. She didn’t know it, though. You never told her. It was a surprise. You had made some crab baozi, fried noodles, and beef dumplings because you knew she loved these. The table was made, you had placed a white tablecloth and put some red and white rose petals on it. A large bouquet _of orange blossom, jasmine, wisteria, and violet_ enthroned in the middle of the table. Some candles were lit, and you were waiting for her, sitting on an armchair in front of the chimney. She was a bit late, but it was okay. You were used to it.
The doorbell rang. 
Strange… She never did this...After all, it was her home.
You got up and went to open the door.
Two police officers were there, their car parked at Larissa’s spot. You didn’t like their expressions. They seemed confused and awkward. You were too, of course. Why would some police officers go to your home at 8 p.m.?
“Are you Larissa Weems’ partner?”
“Yes, I am,” you replied hastily.
Hearing her name escaping from the police officer’s mouth had tensed you. Your mind was racing. Was Larissa in trouble? What did she do? Where was she? Was it because of Wednesday? Did she… did she meet the Hyde? Or was it the traitor? You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining her in a hospital bed, injured and unconscious. How you now wish you were right…
“Larissa Weems was found in Nevermore’s greenhouse, dead by nightshade poisoning. We’re sorry.”
Your eyes widened. You shook your head. They got to be wrong. It couldn’t be her. Not tonight. 
“It’s impossible. She still is in her office, I’m sure she’s alright.”
“We’re sorry. She’s gone. This was confirmed by the coroner”
A shiver ran down your spine. No. You violently shook your head. No, no, no, no, no. No, she couldn’t. She was Larissa Weems. She was your 6’3 tall goddess. She could NOT be dead. You had planned to present her to your parents. Gone? How? You never even imagined one day without her. So how? How could she leave you?  Like that? No goodbye, nothing. No pathetic “I love you”, like in those movies you used to watch every Saturday night, cuddling under a cover on the sofa. She didn’t die in your arms, the last time you kissed her was this morning before she left to go work, her last message was “;-)”, which was… well pretty lame but so damn cute. And while she was dying alone in Nevermore’s greenhouse, you were making goddamn DUMPLINGS. You felt so stupid. You had put so much effort into making this evening go well that you never thought, even for a second, that Larissa could be in danger. You felt so stupid for never enjoying the moment, and always making plans. She was gone. All was over. She would never come back.
The police officers were gone when you came back to reality. You were standing in front of the house, cheeks drowned under your tears. You entered back, but it suddenly felt so cold. You looked at every detail of it and knew that if Larissa couldn’t come back, it wasn’t worth it anymore. Your loneliness was unbearable. The living room was full of void, the table in front of you seemed to laugh at your despair, and the kitchen smelled the food you had made for her. You locked yourself in the toilet and you grabbed your phone, calling the first person that came to your mind: your friend Cassie.
*Hello, y/n?*
“H-hey,” you said, sniffling.
*Is everything alright?*
“N-no, not really.”
And the nervous laughter you let out rang in your ears. You shook your head.
*What’s wrong?*
“It’s Larissa…”
*Did you argue?*
“No, she’s… she’s…”
*She’s what?*
“She’s gone.”
*What? It’s okay, love, she’ll come back, I’m sure. I don’t know what happened but she might need time…*
“No, you don’t get it.” you shook your head “She’s gone… dead.”
You had almost whispered. But you were not crying. Your mind couldn’t process this, it was beyond its limits. You did not believe it yourself. Dead. What did that mean, anyway, dead? You couldn’t imagine your life without her. It was impossible, it was absurd. Without her it meant nothing. It was like an anomaly. It was a dicotyledonous seed that grew with only one cotyledon. It couldn’t be Truth. You heard your friend’s gasp through the cell phone, and the silent seconds she let seemed hours.
*Wh-what do you mean? Is she really…*
You couldn’t reply. You couldn’t say it again. Because it would have made all of this Truth.
*Wait for me, I’m on my way. Don’t hang up.*
You nodded. It was stupid. She couldn’t hear it. But you nodded anyway, unable to tell another word out loud. A few seconds later, you heard a motor roaming. Cassie was in her car.
___
Now, she was gone. For good. No more impromptu visits to your shop. No more sweet sounds of her voice in your home. No more worshipping. She would never awake next to you again. She would never sing in the shower again. She would never make your favourite tea again, call you ‘dearest’, laugh at your lame puns, buy flowers for you at your shop _each time pretending it is for someone else_, come back late at night and kiss your forehead thinking you are sleeping, say she loves you. She would never read books in front of the chimney, her white locks loose, falling over her shoulders. All was gone. She was gone. For good. Killed. Murdered. The bottle was broken on the floor of your mind. And no matter how hard you scrubbed, the scent wouldn’t go away. The glass glitters were gone for a long time now. You had carefully gathered them, one by one, hoping that you would be able to fix it. Maybe one or two splinters were still in your parquet, but you had removed all that you could remove.
She was gone.
But all her belongings were still there.
Her scent, her home, her items, and you. You wanted to disappear like a tired dog stops eating when away from its master. She had left you.
It was strange because… She wasn’t there, but all that was making her was still here. Her perfume was still in your bathroom, her clothes in your closet, the music she used to listen to, and her favourite books. All. All were there. As if she were on a trip to a foreign country far, far away. You liked to imagine her on a plane, listening to one of the podcasts you introduced her to, on a beach, applying sunscreen to prevent her pale skin from tanning, maybe walking in a forest eyes wide open, trying to see a deer between the trees.
She wasn’t. 
She was dead. 
You knew it, but you wouldn't believe it.
During the day, it was okay. You had your friends who always kept an eye on you. One of them, Garry, who had no job, helped you for free in your shop, just to make sure you were always with someone. He talked to you, and occupied your mind so that you could never think about her. 
And in the dark hollow of the night, her absence burnt. By washing the sheets, the smell had disappeared. And to trick your mind, making it believe she was just there, near you although you couldn’t touch her, and only when the sun was knocked out of the sky, you would hold one of her jackets close to you, and bury your face into the soft fabric so that all you could smell was orange blossom, jasmine, wisteria, and violet.
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ladyhallen · 29 days
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A Lovely Morning
Harry had never given any thought to art.
She’d once or twice thought about the museum tours she’d had as a preschooler in the muggle world, and then the occasional painting she would pass with the thought of, “Wow, that’s really pretty.” She hadn’t thought about making art, with words or with images, until she saw Fon under the light of dawn.
Usually, she slept until Fon woke her with sweet kisses and coaxed her to sit down. He’d comb her hair and that, along with the gentle circles he’d press on her lower back, was enough to wake her up. It was more effective than coffee and a hell lot more effective than tea.
By some sorcery, she’d woken up a scant few minutes after Fon that day. He’d gone out to do his usual calisthenics, naked save for the pair of silk trousers and slipping on his cloth slippers. Harry had wanted to roll back to bed when she’d seen the absolute lack of sunlight, but something urged her to get up.
And by Merlin, was she glad she’d gotten up.
She hadn’t ever really thought of human bodies as beautiful. She could objectively say one person had nice arms or a pretty interesting eye color. But in a magical world where anything interesting was usually because they had an inhuman ancestor, she didn’t place much value in looks. She’d seen incredibly beautiful people and knew that the stories they had were more interesting than their faces.
While Fon’s face had drawn her in, she fell in love with his calm rationality and the way he could lay out an argument without shouting.
And while she and Fon had lain with each other for upwards to two months and she’d seen him naked in the hot springs more times than she can count, seeing him exercise was different.
There was an economy to his movements. It was clean and confident, nothing wasted as he moved his limbs and his body in twists and turns. Then he did a slow upward stroke that flexed his back muscles, making her tummy clench and Harry bit back a gasp. When he folded over, hugging his knees for five seconds, Harry clutched the doorway at the way it made his ass flex.
“Good morning, Harry,” he greeted her, flipping over on a handstand with his braided hair coiled around his neck. “This is a nice surprise.”
Morgana bless him and his intense focus. He didn’t notice that she was about to faint from her face going so red. Harry was so glad.
“Good morning,” she said, not at all strangled and sounding like a normal person. She checked for drool. “I have no idea what woke me.”
He then did a move that she knew, a downward dog that was just one hundred percent showing off right now. He wasn’t even sweating!
Harry wished, very fervently, that she knew how to write poetry. Or to draw. Poems should be written about the way the faintest light of dawn brushed across Fon’s muscles. Art should be drawn about that beautiful face closed in concentration, at the play of light and dark over his cheekbones. Instead, she was stuck admiring him with no way to immortalize the moment. Harry cursed her past self for thinking of art as boring.
Unwittingly, she whispered, “Full many a glorious morning have I seen,” A quiet whisper that should not be heard, except Fon had excellent hearing.
He fell out of his pose with a blush. “Harry!” he exclaimed, flustered.
This man. Harry had heard him say the dirtiest things. She’d shared a naked bath with him. She had done a lot of unspeakable things to him and with him. Fon was unfazed and coy, the teasing man.
But recite poetry and he blushed!
Harry had to laugh. “You should see dawn’s light touch you, Fon. It almost makes me jealous, the way it caresses you,” she mused, raking her eyes over his bare torso.
Fon rushed to kiss her, shutting her up.
But Harry realized, as she clutched at his shoulders when he carried her in his arms that yes, she can write poetry. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just heartfelt. Fon clearly appreciated it.
This was how sonnets were made, she mused, exchanging sweet kisses with him. Then he lay her down and Harry forgot to think of anything at all.
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rainbowvamp · 1 year
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an unsent letter: June 1791
You have never touched me, and yet at night I lay awake and swear I feel your hands upon me. The soft touch on my shoulder of an old friend. The hard touch on my neck of a captor. Your body that is lithe, and yet holds power I could surely never know. Your mouth that could pin me in place with just one word. 
If you told me to stay like a dog, I might just do it. If only to please you. If only to earn one single smile. So rare to look at, but so utterly glorious. I stand at an altar dedicated to you and worship the idea of you, because in truth I know nothing about you. More unknowable than God himself, and all the more tantalizing. Do you mean to keep me always wondering? I don’t even ask anymore, who you are, what you are. I’ve accepted you will never tell me, but I am filled with the desire to know. You who visits once every hundred years to have a little chat about the state of the world. Ever changing, but always the same. 
I would venerate you like a god if you asked me to. I think I know you would never ask me to, though. Not you. You’ve never wished such things from me, and perhaps that’s why I wish to give them. I wish for you to hold me in whatever way a god might hold a simple being and I wish to show you my affections, paltry offerings though they may be in comparison to the power you surely command. Is it not worth more to be offered all that a destitute has than to be offered some of what a rich man has? At my poorest, I’d have given you the shirt off my back. At my hungriest, I’d have given you the food from my mouth. This devotion expects no reward, and it receives none. It is given because it would feel wrong not to. When you come close enough to touch but stay always out of reach, I only look from this ever shortening distance and offer up everything I have in honor of you. 
Ask it, and I shall complete it. Want it, and I shall gladly give it to you. Whatever you wish for, be it in my power, I would deliver from my hand into your untouchable grasp. You with a gaze like starlight, distance and unknowable but through hours of scrutiny you would never allow. I observe as I can, once every hundred years. Would that I were an artist so I might paint your likeness onto canvas and capture it forever. But no canvas could do you justice. No canvas might capture your essence with the clarity I have in my mind’s eye. I think of you in dreams, often I wish they were real that I might reach my hand out to feel the skin of your hand, face, shoulder. Would that I were a sculptor that I might cut your likeness into stone, more at home there than any canvas, but still imperfect, still incomplete. No stone might capture the depths of your eyes or the perfection of your faintest smirk. I close my eyes and see you looking at me with those dark eyes in the firelight and I wanted you. I wanted to taste and feel and smell you, but I kept myself at bay. Even in dreams I keep myself at bay because you are the untouchable, unknowable thing and I am just a man who cannot die, dying to stand beside you once again. To take your words into my ears and your breath into my mouth. I put my lips to the cup you might have drank from, had you drank anything at all, and I imagine the taste of your mouth. Fire or Ice or both. 
The knowledge that this longing may one day destroy me does not stop me from feeling it. I have no love for tragedy, though I fear I may be living in one. Every time you walk away I think I must be the most unlovable man on this plane or any other, but then you come back, and I know I am the luckiest man on earth. 
The glory of our centennial meetings is that they happen, every time, without fail, and I am always relieved to lay my eyes upon you.
How can I wait another 98 years to see you? When I feel consumed by even the thought of you? 
I would offer myself to you if you would just accept me. 
I would offer anything if you’d stay. 
——
This letter, written while half mad with sleep deprivation, met a waste bin and was carried away to be burned like trash. In the book of unsent letters it has edges that are charred and ink stains that obscure the bottom two lines entirely, though if one willed it to be so, they would be visible. 
----
AO3
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fengshenjunlang · 1 year
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The Wen Sibling and their family are NOT Prisoner of War.
They were called the Wen remnants, not the war prisoner even in Canon.
MDZS chapter 72 (from exiledrebel):
Wei Wuxian, "You definitely remember him. Last month, when you were night-hunting in the area of Ganquan, you chased an eight-winged bat king to the gathering place or the detention camp of the Wen Sect's remnants and brought a group of the Wen Sect's disciples The one in the lead was him. "
Here, they were not called the Prisoner of War. They were the remnants of the previous Wen Sect, and some of them still have the identity of Wen disciples.
The place they were gathered together may be called a detention camp, but it is not the prison where you must do labor for others. It is further explained here:
After the Sunshot Campaign, the QishanWen Sect was destroyed. The territory that it was expanding was shared among the other sects. The Ganquan area was appointed to the Lanling Jin Sect. As for the remnants of the Wen Sect, they were herded into a small corner of Qishan, not even a thousandth the territory it once owned. They were crammed into the place and struggled to live.
They were driven to live into a small corner of Qishan, and struggled to live , yes. But not being imprisoned and become the prisoner of war.
The proof for their identity is the next explanation:
Wei Wuxian, "Fine, I don't mind explaining it in greater detail. You couldn't catch the bat king and happened to run into a few of the Wen Sect's disciples who were there to investigate the same thing. And so, you threatened them to carry spirit-attraction flags to be your bait. They didn't dare do it. One person stepped out and tried to reason with you That's the Wen Ning I m talking about. After some delay, the bat king got away. You beat up the Wen cultivators, took them away by force, and the group disappeared. Do I need to say any more details? They still haven't returned yet Apart from you, don't know who in the world I could possibly ask.
They are originally not prisoners who were forced to do labor for the winning party.
They are originally still a disciple, a normal cultivators, who could still have the privilege to even nighthunting on their own..... Until they were forcibly captured by Jin Zixun!!
As for the real prisoner of War, they were put in Qiongqi Path from the very end of the war. Look at this passage:
Now that the Lanling Jin Sect had taken over the Qiongqi Path, of course it couldn't let the QishanWen Sects glorious past continue to exist. It was in the middle of reconstruction, meaning that all of the reliefs on both sides would be chiselled down and new ones would be carved. Naturally, in the end, it'd be given a new name that'd emphasize the Lanlinglin Sect's gallantry.
Such a large-scale undertaking would need many laborers for sure. And, as for these laborers, of course there were no better candidates than the Wen Sects prisoners of war, who had become homeless dogs after the Sunshot Campaign.
Wen Qing, Wen Ning and their family branch were not Prisoner of War. They are just the remaining people of the Wen Sect.
They are not homeless but lived in Ganquan, despite the small corner they have.
As for the reason why they didn't get classified as the Prisoner of War. Lan Xichen has said it on MDZS chapter 73:
Lan Xichen responded a moment later, "I have heard of Wen Qing's name a few times. I do not remember her having participated in any of the Sunshot Campaign's crimes."
Here. Lan Xichen as one of the Leaders in the Sunshot Campaign has verified it.
Wen Qing is the leader of her own family branch, when she didn't participated in war crimes, naturally her followers wouldn't.
Not only did LXC verified it, Wen Qing herself has said it on MDZS chapter 60:
Wen Qing cut him off, "What the Wen Sect does doesn't represent what we do. We don't need to be responsible for the Wen Sect's wrongdoing. Wei Ying, there's no need to look at me like that. There's a beginning to all debts. I'm the office leader of Yiling but I was ordered to take the position. I'm a medic, an apothecary, I've never killed anyone, much less touched the blood of the Jiang Sect."
It was true. Nobody had heard of any lives lost by Wen Qing's hands. There were always many cases that people wanted her to take over. It was because Wen Qing was one of the Wen Sect's people whose way of doing thing was actually normal.
At times, she could even put in a few good words for people in front of Wen RuoHan.
Her reputation had always been good!
Here is the verification from both Wen Qing and the narration from MXTX herself.
And it's also to refute what Nie Mingjue said about Wen Qing never trying to speak against Wen RuoHan.
Yes, Wen Qing at times even put in a few good words for people. But obviously not when Wen RuoHan has already decided, determined, and already started long ago, to dominate the other sects.
But anyway, Wen siblings and their family are not Prisoner of War, originally!
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101flavoursofweird · 1 year
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“I always wanted to have power, and to command respect, and FEAR!”
The Collector gives King exactly what he wanted… before.
The Collector is one of, if not the most, powerful beings in the Demon Realm, able to bend reality to their will. And King happens to be their best friend.
The Collector make a glorious tiara-shaped castle for them and King to live in. (Placed above the skull of the dead Titan— King’s father?)
They have servants at their command. There are the ‘citizen’ puppets like Willow’s dad who cheer when King and the Collector arrive to save the day.
There are the former Coven Heads who were turned into bodyguard/butler puppets; they not only protect King and the Collector, but will bring them tea and biscuits. There’s ’Mama-Dalia’, who now has to clean up after the kids and bring them pizza beagles. Previously, Odalia would have ignored King at best and insulted him at worst.
But Odalia knows not to disobey King and the Collector… otherwise she’ll be turned into a puppet. (Like Terra after she called King a ‘little dog’!) The Boiling Isles citizens who haven’t been transformed into puppets yet fear the Collector’s powers.
King has all the power in the world on his side now. But he doesn’t want it anymore. He just wants his family and his friends back. (The Collector could be included in those friends!)
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naanima · 11 months
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Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 is honest to the-movie-gods a fucking amazing movie. Visually it is stunning - cinematography, lighting, the use of colours, and visual effects. It is funny, emotional and full of fucking heart.
In general the movie is visually gorgeous - colourful, bright, innovative camera angles, and one fight sequence with the full team is fucking epic. One of the best fight sequences I have ever seen in its cohesiveness while focusing on each character's unique fighting ability and how they compliment one another. It is so fucking beautiful. And the soundtrack! OMFG! THE FUCKING SOUNDTRACK! Perfect and plays such an important part of the movie. Just perfect..
Below is a list of SPOILERS.
Adam Warlock is a space himbo who likes cute-ugly space alien/pets. Loves his mummy & is dumb as a box of rocks. I love how he becomes a full member of the Guardians in mid-credit. He deserves a second chance, and hey with his mummy/parental issues he would fit right in with the Guardians.
Cosmo the space dog getting fired up about being called a "bad dog" by Kraglin, not being able to let it go is one of the funniest running jokes throughout the whole movie. It just really worked for me. Lols.
Gamora & Nebula's growl-grunt as a form of greeting/goodbye/I love yous is fucking amazing. They are such amazing sisters but also killing machines. I love it so very much.
Gamora is fucking amazing in this. She is competent, angry and her own person. She doesn't know Peter or the rest of the Guardians. She isn't their Gamora, she is her own person, and her finding her place with the Ravagers is just so beautiful & glorious. Bcos they fucking love her, and she chose them. They are hers, and she is their's. Her parting line to Peter, "We must have been fun." Was fucking gut wrenching & an acknowledgement that yeah, in another life this Gamora could she herself making a life with Peter. But this isn't that life, she isn't that Gamora, and she found herself a new family.
Nebula being the leader of Knowhere, creating a place for the displaced, the weird & the hurt. Leading & protecting them, wanting children to grow up like she never did. OMFG. Her character development is fucking amazing. The ways she tries & tries to be better than what she was taught to be is just so beautiful.
Drax acknowledged as a great dad, BY NEBULA, the way he connected & talked to the kids. His relationship with Mantis - their pseudo sibling relationship, their genuine love & respect for one another. Just gods Drax was hilarious and so very genuine.
Mantis going off on her own, to discover what she wants to do, to be her own person, with her three giant fucking space creatures of terror. Mantis being angry, honest and so fucking brave.
Rocket!! OMFG! ROCKET!!!! An experiment by a madman, wanting to live in a world with his friends, running to escape the pain & the memories. Rescuing ALL the animals being experimented on, fucking tired of running, choosing not to kill his torturer bcos he chose to be a Guardian. Just fuck, ROCKET. As a side note the way the tortures were depicted in the form of what happened to the animals was utterly horrifying. Floor the rabbit was the stuff of nightmares but she just wanted to play and be with her friend, and it is just so fucking heartbreaking. Animal cruelty is the fucking worst.
And finally Peter. Gods, Peter. How he infected his whole patchwork family with his music, with his need to be with one & another, with his refusal to let any of them die. Finally growing up, ready to face his past instead of running. Taking a break from the Guardians to return to earth to spend time with his grandfather, to confront his past. It is so hard to articulate how much I love Peter Quill, especially in a series of movies where the focus became progressively more evenly spread in the attention they pay to each character. But Peter pulled this group of assholes together and he would die for any of them. His fear & anguish when he thought Rocket had died was heartbreaking.
There is SO MUCH amazing interactions between all the characters - Nebula, Mantis & Drax! Peter & Gamora, Rocket & Peter, Cosmo being called a "bad dog" by Kraglin. Just gods - what a fucking amazing film that wanted to celebrate the fun of a space opera AND to roll around in the feels of found family love, a group of idiots who tell each other they love each other, willing to go to war for each other. A group of idiots who dance in the streets in joy, screaming their feelings. Just fuck. What a wonderful movie.
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