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#what is the ship name for them?
marimosalad · 11 months
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Annatar x Galadriel from one of my favorite Haladriel fics, In Case of Defeat, Break Glass by Eastwynds ❤️ kind of a spoiler for the fic, but (with permission) sharing my favorite scene as a drawing, and a snippet from Chapter 34 below the cut:
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She looks down at her empty hand before she reaches up and slaps him hard in the face, searing his cheek with her open palm.
Sauron takes a stumbling step backwards, colliding with the edge of his desk. And then, Galadriel’s hands are in his hair, roughly dragging his mouth down to hers. She kisses him viciously, biting down on his lip, and a strangled sound of half pleasure and half pain escapes his throat as his eyes snap wide with shock.
“How dare you,” she growls as she breaks the kiss.
“How… how dare I what?” he says breathlessly. “I can think of a number of things that—”
“All of it.” She seals her lips back to his, revelling in the feel of his hot, needy mouth responding instantly to her demand. He can be smug all he wants, but he cannot resist this either.
He’s still leaning on the desk, his hands moving to take hold of her as she climbs him, her weight pushing him back. He leans back further and further until he’s lying on top of all his careful diagrams of rings and resonance. The parchments are scattering off the desk, all his formulas and equations and spells fluttering to the floor. She feels his spike of annoyance when she crumples one under her knee as she crawls over him, and she delights in it, because he can’t tear himself away to tidy them up. No, he’s too caught up in kissing her, his hands too wholly occupied with the curve of her hips and thighs to save his precious drawings. He is hers.
“We need each other,” she whispers against his mouth. “But make no mistake, you are still insufferable – and despicable – and reprehensible – and awful – ” She’s kissing him between words while her hands slip under the hem of his tunic, working it upwards as she caresses the smooth planes of his chest.
“Anything else?” That irreverent smirk is back on his lips, and his voice purrs into her mind: If I’d known it would have this effect, I would have handed you a dagger long ago, my little elf.
Read the fic on AO3❤️
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fulmine-art · 2 years
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This started as a doodle and got WAY out of hand-
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ghostlyplacetobe · 2 years
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Camila x eda moodboard
Requested by: no one, I just really love this ship
Give credit if you use please
Reblogs are appreciated
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Dni if you are or support
Pr*ship/anti-anti, p*do/map/(no)map/whatever p*dos called themselves now, poppytwt, racist/anti-BLM/anti-stop asian hate/pro-ALM, sexist, run a discourse/syscourse/mogai discourse blog, send anonymous hate, send death/r*pe threats, dox people, pro-harassment, pro life/anti-abortion, anti-kin, fakeclaim people, transphobic/t*tfs/transcum/transmed, anti-mspec, anti-mogai, anti-xenogenders, anti-neopronouns, chihiro fujisaki gender discourse, identity as an irl yandere, ddlc/ageplay/petplay/raceplay/i*ncest kink/r*pe kink etc. blogs
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woundedheartwithin · 2 years
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(Just a little one shot I banged out in record time because I have feelings.)
Yakuza Kiwami 2 | implied unrequited Majima/Yuki
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“Kiryu-chan!”
That voice. His voice. Here, of all places.
She freezes, still looking at Kiryu when he groans and rolls his eyes nearly out of their sockets.
“Majima no nii-san.” He huffs, annoyed, and Yuki finally forces herself to look at the source of the voice that had offered her so much guidance so long ago, at the man who had been her friend, her confidant, her protector, who had disappeared into thin air like he’d never existed at all. “Do I want an explanation?” Kiryu continues, exasperated, and Yuki blinks at the phantom before her.
“M-Majima-san?” She breathes, her hand flying to her mouth as she drags her gaze over him. He looks like a crazy person with his snakeskin blazer and stupid haircut, and if not for the warmth in his only eye, if not for the janky eyepatch that covers the other, if not for his handsome face and the kindness that somehow still lives there, she’d have testified under oath that this was not the same man she had known nearly two decades ago.
She looks again at his jacket, worn with nothing else beneath it, the black leather pants and gloves he wears to round out whatever look it is he’s going for, and thinks that the only thing the Majima she’d known would have ever been caught dead in are the silver-toed boots he still wears. Somehow, they fit this look far better than they had the tuxedo he’d always worn before, and Yuki feels a little unsettled at the thought.
Her eyes drift to his bare chest and the tattoos that peek out for the world to see, and she suppresses a shudder at the implication. She’d always suspected he was yakuza, just as she suspects that Kiryu is now. No ordinary man could have fought like she had seen Majima fight, and Koyuki, Kana, and Aika had all recounted the vicious scraps they’d inadvertently dragged Kiryu into themselves. She actually might be more surprised if they aren’t yakuza. But ordinary men do not bear tattoos like the ones on Majima’s chest, and Kiryu’s deference to the older man is telling to say the least.
Not that it matters, she thinks as she marches up to Majima, stopping in front of him and slapping him so hard across the face that his head snaps away, pitching his whole body sideways with the force of it. He freezes, comically holding the posture of a man slapped for a beat too long, then chuckles lightly and straightens, rubbing his cheek with one gloved hand as he looks just past her shoulder.
“The hell was that for, Yuki-chan?” He asks glibly, and that just makes her angrier. She slaps him again, this time on his other cheek. He gasps and puts his other hand on that cheek too, pressing them forward so that his cheeks squish and pooch out his lips. “Ow! That hurts!” He whines, and she might have laughed if her guts weren’t tied in knots, anger twisting viciously in her chest as eighteen years’ worth of worry and grief boil over within her.
“I thought you were dead.” She says lowly, hating the way her throat constricts and burns as she says it. Majima’s face falls then, affected more by her words than either slap, and he studies her with his one good eye with something like regret in his gaze. “Eighteen years, Majima-san. You’ve been gone for eighteen years. You disappeared out of nowhere, without so much as a word or a phone call or a damn postcard. I thought something terrible had happened to you. I watched the news every morning and every night for years, waiting for the day they dragged your body out of the river. I thought.. I thought.. oh god.”
She breaks then, sinking to the floor and covering her face with her hands, sobs she tries to hold back erupting from her chest. She feels Koyuki kneel down beside her, her soft, small hands grabbing her shoulders and rubbing comfortingly as she babbles a meaningless but well-intentioned apology over and over again. But Yuki doesn’t want to hear an apology from Koyuki, who has no idea what she’s talking about.
She wants to hear it from the man who had broken her heart.
“Yuki-chan.” He murmurs through a sigh, put upon like he’s speaking to a naive child instead of a 39 year old woman, and Yuki feels her anger spike again. “I…” He starts, hesitating as though he can feel her emotions shift. “I had a lot goin’ on at the time.” He continues in a deep rumble, more sincere this time, and she looks up at him with watery eyes. A long moment passes, so long she’s sure he’s not going to speak again, and the weight of his gaze is almost suffocating in the silence that has fallen over the entire club. Then he sighs again, looking away and rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Yuki-chan. I guess that was pretty shitty of me to just leave without sayin’ anythin’.”
“You think?” She snaps, and he smiles tentatively at her as he steps forward. He kneels down in front of her, putting his weight on his heels and resting his arms on his knees, and she watches him warily as he looks her over with such warmth in his gaze that she can’t hold it for long.
“C’mon. Can’t have ya gettin’ stuck down here.” He teases gently, then grabs her arms with his gloved hands and pulls her up, his touch lingering longer than is strictly necessary before he withdraws and grins.
“You’re one to talk.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and sticking her nose in the air. “You’re practically an old man, now. To think you prance around in that outrageous outfit. If ‘walking crisis’ is the fashion statement you’re going for, then congrats!” And he laughs at that, full and loud, and she can’t stop the smile that creeps across her face at the sound.
“What the hell?” He crows, one gloved hand delicately touching his chest as though he’s a damsel who’s just been slighted. “Where’d this savage Yuki-chan come from?”
“From years of living without you!” She fires back without thinking, then blushes fiercely and looks away, ignoring the soft gasps from the other people she’d forgotten were still in the room. Majima laughs again, softer and warmer, then reaches out and hooks his fingers under her chin, pulling her face back and looking her in the eye.
“Then maybe me leavin’ wasn’t all bad, huh?” He murmurs gently, that warm sincerity back on his face, and she can’t fight the shy smile that pulls at her lips.
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annalise-austenne · 2 months
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Me too Namari
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jaypentaghast · 8 months
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I love them please bring them back to meeeee
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solunarwitch · 7 months
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Wallace and Todd
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seventh-district · 1 month
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Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 2
[Pt. 1] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]
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rendevok · 11 months
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“Take my hand” a comic for NaruMitsu Week 2023
day 1 - lies & secrets - 2 - 3 - 4
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avocadoraisin · 22 days
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oh goodness...
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geezmarty · 4 months
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mother superior shadowheart and her favorite sister nocturne 🖤
(sketch commission example ;^) opening next week!)
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dykepaldi · 9 months
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homestuck was so perfect for autistic teenagers bc it took characters being sorted into categories and having Attributes to its absolute extreme. forget four hogwarts houses, every character has their associated colour their zodiac sign their associated animal their dream planet their god tier class and aspect their typing quirk their pesterchum handle their weapon their planet of x and y, as well as each of them having a handful of other very quantifiable Personality Traits and Interests (e.g. this one is a clown this one is angry this one likes fashion this one is just rufio from hook for some reason) and THEN they all also have their respective ancestors and dancestors(?)(plucked that word from my memory) who have all of those things as WELL
and god not to mention the fucking quadrant system
as a 13-15 year old autistic kid i didnt even need homestuck to have a plot i just happily made a big big spreadsheet of character attributes in my brain
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teansouprmyjam · 5 months
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a sketch of 2 beloved silly guys,,,,,,
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kaiju-krew · 2 months
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stargazing⭐
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rubikor · 4 months
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would you hold my face softly and tell me it will be alright?
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poscariastri · 5 days
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any race can be your home race if youre oscar piastri
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