#meriad

[monster-disaster]

[wolf-shifter] Rome

wolf-shifter!Rome x human!Reader Good to know: somnophilia, non-con, breeding, rut Summary: Your best friend can't keep himself away from you anymore.

"Did I wake you up?" Your words are slurred when you break the silence of the quiet flat. The only sound is the traffic from the streets, filtering inside. A few cars pass by every now and again. Their engine rumbles through the air, echoing off the buildings. Your back is against the wall as your best friend kneels in front of you, trying to take off your shoes with a slight frown between his brows. His thick fingers can barely handle the delicate clasps. "It's fine," he hums, pushing the shoes aside. "I told you to call me if you need me." "Thank you," you reply, tilting your head back when he stands up and towers above you. "You are a good friend, Rome. I love you." The man just smirks at your words, tucking you against his side to lead you into his room. He knows the drill by now. You go out with your co-workers, drink more than you can handle, and call him to take you home. He helps you, of course, while listening to you repeat how much you love him until you fall asleep.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he replies, opening the door of his room and leading you inside until you sit on the edge of his bed. Your posture is relaxed and tired. You don't even move a muscle when you feel him starting to take off your clothes. "Arms up," he says, and when you do, he pulls up your top until it's on a chair nearby. It smells like your perfume, smoke, and alcohol. "Do you want a shower?" Rome asks even though he already knows your answer. "'m tired," you hum, letting your eyes close while you are still in a sitting position. "Of course," the man chuckles. While he searches for a shirt you can sleep in, he can't help but let his eyes wander on your almost bare body. Your tits fill the bra into a nice cleavage, and your panties match. "Hold up your arms for a second, sweetheart," he says quietly, feeling a bit annoyed when the thin fabric hides your body from his dark gaze. "You can lay down now," he adds, helping you onto his bed and tucking you in. By the time he straightens up, you are already asleep.

Rome has known you since he moved into the city. You met at a coffee shop where you worked after college. He knew you were his mate after a glance and a sniff in the air heavy with the scent of coffee and you. You put him into a friend zone, and Rome never figured out how to get out of it without ruining your friendship. So he stayed in that damn zone, hoping that one day you will confess his love for him or he will grow some balls to tell you the truth. Pathetic really.

After making sure the lock of his entrance door is closed and putting a big glass of water next to you on the nightstand, he climbs onto the bed, trying to focus on anything else but your closeness. His brothers would laugh at him for sure. Their little brother can't get the girl, so he has to wake up next to her with blue balls. How funny.

Sleep takes him after a while, but his dreams are heavy and troubled. When he wakes up, it's almost morning. The sun is still hiding behind the horizon, but it's there. He turns on his back and groans. His gums ache and burns, his mouth open to lift the pressure off his teeth. Sweat glistens on his heated body. His fingers dig into the mattress under him, feeling his claws wanting to grow out. And his cock. He closes his eyes tightly to keep a pained moan in his chest. It's hard and heavy between his thighs. His erection pulses with each breath he takes, and his underwear is already ruined by the precum soaking the black fabric.

"Fuck," he grunts, sitting up on the edge of the bed. The wooden ground feels cold under him. His skin feels too tight and too itchy. Rome circles his broad shoulders backward a few times before standing up to get to the kitchen for some water.

The man is almost at the door of his room when you turn on your back on the bed, still sleeping. His eyes rake over your body under the covers. He forgot you were there. He was too busy with his wolf wanting to come out, he didn't even notice you until now. But now, he can't tear his gaze away from you. You are so peaceful and pretty. Your hair is a mess, and your makeup is smeared around your closed eyes. The red lipstick you used is faded.

"Fuck," Rome groans again. You shouldn't be here. Not when his rut is approaching and the wolf in him claws on the inside of his mind to get him out.

He should force himself to walk away and call an Uber for you. He should wake you up and make you leave. Or at least, he should force himself out of the room. You shouldn't be here so beautiful and soft while his cock throbs with the need to fill you up.

Rome stares at your chest for long seconds, watching you breathe. You are deep asleep. You always black out when you drink too much.

He steps closer.

His large hands curl into fists.

Another step to the bed.

He shouldn't.

"Fuck."

The change of his body comes naturally and quickly. His skeleton transforms into something more primal, with firm muscles and dark fur all over his skin. He grows taller and stronger. The ache in his body lessens, but his cock between his legs still bobs angrily with each step he takes to the bed to get closer to your sleeping form. His claws grip the blanket, pulling it down from the bed slowly and carefully. He drops it to the ground, keeping his eyes on your bare legs. His t-shirt barely hides your panties, and he can see your nipples harden at the sudden change of temperature.

For a second, his attention wanders up to your face. Your eyes are still closed, and your breath is even. The man climbs up on the bed. The mattress dips under his weight. He hovers above your sleeping form, almost frozen. You can wake up at any minute, and there is no way he can explain the situation without you freaking out.

But it's too little and too late.

Taking a deep breath, his hand moves to his aching cock, his long fingers curling around the thick shaft. A groan escapes his open mouth, his long tongue lick over his upper teeth. His eyes wander down on your body, pausing at your soft tits and hard nipples before falling to your covered mound. His grip tightens on his erection, precum leaking from the dark pink tip.

He saw you like this several times since you know each other. You are comfortable showing some skin even though it drives him crazy under the surface.

Releasing his cock, he reaches out for you. His touch is gentle and warm on your knees, gliding up on the soft flesh of your thigh. When you open your legs, he almost jumps back and out of the bed. Rome snaps his eyes up to your face again. You are still asleep.

It's so wrong on so many levels.

Now, that your legs are open, he can see the slit of your pussy through the thin fabric. Drool drips down from his mouth at the plump sight.

Maybe it's enough, he tries to say to himself. Just jerking off on the view of your cunt is enough until you wake up and go home.

His hand is on you again, caressing your thigh before sliding up to your panties. It's soft under his touch but does nothing but annoy him. His thumb moves between your legs, feeling the heat of your pussy on his own skin. His heart beats in his throat as he watches. Your clit is under his thumb, drawing small circles on the bud.

Rome doesn't have to wait long to feel your arousal in the air. It's thick and heavy, making him and his cock drool some more. "Fuck!" He groans. His snout fidgets as he takes deep breaths from your scent. "You smell so good."

He moves closer, slowly, tentatively. He lifts his weight onto his arms at the sides of your body. His eyes are on your face again, watching you sleep while his nose almost bumps against your mound. A low groan rumbles in his chest. You are so close. So delicious. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, licking through your center over the fabric covering it. You are wet. He licks over your slit until your panties are soaked with your juices and his saliva. It sticks to your plump pussy.

"Let's take it down," he hums, hooking his long fingers on the side of your panties to pull it down and reveal your most intimate part. Your cunt glistens under the street lights that filter into his bedroom through the window.

The wolf-shifter's world spins around him once, twice, three times as he leans closer again. His snout rubs against your clit, taking deep breaths of your heavy smell. "So pretty," he murmurs. "You have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart." Almost bursting with anticipation, he slides his tongue between your folds, lapping up your juices. When he flicks your clit, you moan into the dark room, making him freeze for long seconds. Your smell gets stronger in the air, but you don't move. "Just a little bit more," he whispers, almost begging. He slurps on your pussy hurriedly, trying to suffocate himself in your cunt. His tongue finds your entrance, pushing inside your hot channel. He can feel you fluttering around his tongue, sucking him in for more. His whole body trembles as his muscles tense. Every nerve in his body is focused on you. Your smell and taste drive him deeper and deeper to the point he can't back away.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, leaking. His balls feel too tight, and his hips start to rock back and forth every now and again to find some friction. The knot at the base of his shaft grows with each second he spends between your thighs, munching on your cunt.

Biting off his own claw, he turns his attention back to your empty hole. His tongue slides into you easily, pulsing and fluttering until he adds his finger to stretch you out some more. For a second, you tense up, moaning again before continuing to sleep. He almost laughs. He could fuck you. You wouldn't wake up.

He almost cums when you clench around him. He scoops up your nectar with his tongue, gulping to burn the memory of your taste in his mind. Your breathing gets heavier, and a small, barely noticeable tremble runs through your body as you reach your climax. With his free hand, Rome has to squeeze his cock to stop him from shooting his seed all over you and the bed.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans, keeping his fingers in you, feeling your still squeezing walls. "Can you do that again? Could you cum on my cock, hm? Are you ready for it?"

He climbs above you, pushing your legs apart to have enough space for his slim waist between your thighs. His erection rubs against your folds, mixing his pre-cum and your juices together. "God," he groans. "Fuck! So good, sweetheart. Your cunt is so warm. She wants me, love. She wants my cock inside. You know it, too." Grabbing his erection, he adjusts the bulbous tip to your entrance before starting to push inside. He growls at the feeling of you enveloping him. You are warm and wet and perfect. His balls jerk and his knot pulses. "That's it," he groans. "You are doing so good, sweetheart."

"Rome?" Your voice feels like cold water. His name on your lips is thick with sleep and confusion. "What? What are you doing?" Your question ends in a moan when he doesn't stop. He pushes his cock inside you entirely, stretching you out and filling you up. "Shh, sweetheart," he grunts. "It's okay." "Rome?" Panic laces your voice. "Rome! Stop!" "I can't," Rome replies, shaking his head, licking up on the side of your neck. Your palms seem small on his broad chest as you try to push him away while he still rocking back and forth inside you. "Enough! Rome!" "Sh," he tries to calm you again. "It's okay, love. Your pussy wants it." "What? No! It's wrong!" "No!" He growls. "It's not! I should have made you mine a long time ago!" Despite your panic and anger, a moan escapes your lips when he thrusts inside you. Your pussy clenches around his shaft, soaking his erection. Rome reaches every sweet spot in you, driving you higher and higher. "So good, sweetheart," he coos. "You feel it too, right? My cock stretches your tiny pussy. You squeeze on me so tight, I can barely move." "Rome!" You moan his name, your fingers dig into the hard muscles of his shoulder. Your legs curl around his waist to keep him close. Pleasure flares through your body even though you know it's wrong. "And you taste so good, love," he grunst into your neck. Your skin is wet from his drooling. "I ate your pussy while you slept," he admits. "I drank up your juices. You got wet so easily. Your pussy knew it was me." They shouldn't, but his words fuel you more. Your hips move under him, meeting his thrust as your back arches from the bed. "Rome! Please! Fuck!"

Seeing you so responsive wakes up something primal inside him. He almost shouts with pain when he forces himself to kneel up and leave your warm channel. "Turn around," he says but doesn't wait for your reaction. Grabbing your hips, he turns you on your stomach, tugging you into a kneeling position. Your ass rubs against his cock while he hovers above you and pushes your head down on the bed. "Present yourself for me, sweetheart," he groans, rutting against your bottom. "Show me how much you want my cock like a good bitch." "Rome," you cry his name, screaming when he enters into your pussy again. His hold is firm and hard on your hips as he keeps you in place against his pounding. He fucks your pussy with a newfound vigor. Your juices flow down on your thighs, dripping onto the bed. "Fuck!" Rome groans. "Your pussy is so good to me, sweetheart. She knows what she wants, and it's my cock. She wants me to fill her up and soak her with my seed." His words clear your mind for a second. Your fingers grip onto the blanket under you. "Wait! Rome! Don't! I don't…!" "It's okay, love," Rome groans, still fucking you. "You don't have to worry. I will take care of you and our pup. I will fuck your cunt until you are round with my child. I want to see your tits grow with milk and your stomach with our pup. Maybe I will always keep you pregnant and ripe." Tears run down your cheek from pleasure and fear. Your body and your mind tell different things, and you can do nothing because of the spinning world around you. Your walls flutter around his cock, your stomach tightens into a burning coil. "Take my knot, love," he demands. "Let me fuck my mate pregnant. Let me have this, love. Just open up your pussy for me, and I will do the rest." There is no way you can fight against him. His hold on you is too strong and tight, while your limbs feel like jelly.

Rome's whole world narrows down on your sweet hole as he forces his knot inside your wet pussy. Every nerve in his body bursts with pleasure when he is inside you fully, and he can't move without tugging and pushing you with the rhythm of his hips pounding your hole. His growl shakes the walls as he cums inside you. He shoots into your hole several times until, even through the barrier of his knot, some still escapes your pussy.

"Ohgod!" You cry, shaking and jerking. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you reach your climax. You suck Rome for every drop of his cum he can give you. Your pussy aches and burns so deliciously that you can do nothing, but rock back against him for more. His chuckle is hoarse next to your ears when he notices what you are doing.

"It's 'kay, love," he hums, still keeping his weight on his arms. "My rut will keep me going for a while longer before I'm done with you." "What?" You gasp. "We are not done?" "Didn't you hear me?" He hums, pushing inside you. "I won't stop until you are with my pup."

- Masterlist Meriad Masterlist Patreon

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster smut #meriad #werewolf x reader #werewolf x human #werewolf smut #teratophillia #monster lover #monster imagine #exophelia #terat0philliac

[mansand]

#doodles #my art #ocs #meriad #party rockas in da house 2niteeeeeeee

[fizzyxcustard]

Okay okay okay I just thought of a really cute prompt for a LotR fic, since you said you were wanting to write for the og trilogy again. Feel free to get to this whenever works for you!

Merry and Reader are in the like early stages of a relationship, maybe they're officially courting, maybe not, but there's an understanding there. Anyway, they're at some party or other, and one is dancing while the other watches with a soft smile on their face. Their eyes meet from across the room and suddenly they both have goofy, lovestruck expressions on their faces.

Idk how much detail you want or if this is enough for a whole one shot but I thought it'd be cute and would love to see your take on it.

(This is such an adorable idea, and thank you for suggesting it!! I won't tag anyone in it because this might be a complete flop and everyone hates it. LOL! But I do indeed want to branch out and get back into Lord of the Rings fics.)

Fandom: Lord of the Rings

Pairing: Merry x Fem!Hobbit!Reader

Warnings: Lots of fluff.

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be added to my tag list, please let me know. This is my first Merry fic, and my first fic back in Lord of the Rings, so please be gentle with me. LOL.

The Green Dragon was heaving with patrons. It was Rosie and Sam's wedding day, and everyone in the Shire had been invited to the celebrations. Some hobbits were still congregated up in the main party field, devouring the wedding cake, while a large group of you had retreated back to the Green Dragon for drinks, a smoke and cosiness by the open fire.

A few of your friends had pulled you up to to dance in the centre of the main room. There was laughing and giggling the girl hobbits who were all around you. Your friend, Daisy, grabbed your hands and spun you around, while others sang.

Merry was on the opposite side of the room, sat at a table with Pippin and Frodo. He couldn't help but keep averting his eyes over toward you.

"Are you even listening?" Frodo chuckled, raising his tankard for a sip. Ever since Merry had first kissed you, he was constantly day dreaming and pre-occupied. No one but you seemed to be able to get his attention.

Pippin sighed, trying to hide the sadness of losing his best friend and partner in crime, despite being happy for him and you.

"What?" Merry asked, his head shifting turning to face Frodo.

Your head was spinning and you kept giggling, your cheeks glowing in happiness. And as you slowed down, the song coming to an end, you looked over toward Merry again. He had his gaze on you, and he smiled. Your heart fluttered and you felt the flush on your cheeks burn even hotter.

Daisy rolled her eyes playfully. "You are Merry are making me feel sick."

By the end of the night, as everyone filed out of the small tavern, Merry waited for you by the door. He held his arm out and you curled yours in his, giggling again. Whenever you were with him, or in close proximity, and the contentment washed over you. It rested in your heart.

Merry looked at you as he walked you home, studying your bright eyes as they took in your surroundings. Your curiosity was what he had fallen in love with first. Every little thing around you was special; flowers, animals, the sun, the moon and the stars. He watched the reflection of the stars in your eyes as you looked upwards at the heavens.

You could feel Merry watching you again and suddenly you stopped, grinning. Not able to hold back, you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

#Lord of the Rings #Fanfiction #Merry x Fem!Reader #Merry x Reader #Merry x Hobbit!Reader #Merry Brandybuck x Reader #Merry Brandybuck x Fem!Reader #Merry Brandybuck x Hobbit!Reader #Meriadic Brandybuck #Hobbits #Dominic Monaghan

[thestreamdreampony]

Me adding my two cents is probably not gonna do much, but here I go, I guess:

I want to preface this with saying that Wilbur's content and Lovejoy have been incredibly important to me and I've put a lot of time, effort and money into supporting Lovejoy especially. So finding out about this, before finding out about the details, I had originally reacted with incredulous derision of twitter stans. And then erring on the side of caution about how things developed.

At this point there's almost no question that it's Wilbur, for the simple reason that Shubble would have cleared up his name if it wasn't. There's no way she would throw someone innocent under the bus, if she knew somebody else was guilty. Additionally, not a single person in Wilbur's surroundings has disputed any claims and have only narrowed it down further towards Wilbur. At this point it is incredibly unlikely she is talking about anybody else.

I do want to take a moment to comdemn those (mostly on twitter) who used this opportunity to dig into both Shubble and Wilbur's private lives, trying to construct a narrative of her abuse and in some cases going so far as doxxing Wilbur. It is entirely possible to support Shelby and condemn her abuser, without invading their privacy and endangering people's lives. Shelby's goal was to warn people and to make them more aware of the signs of abuse. As well as make it as clear as possible, who she's talking about without saying who it is directly, for a meriad of possible reasons. It was not an invitation to write abuse fanfiction about her private life.

That being said, the way I will feel about this in the long run will depend heavily on how Wilbur deals with this situation. I will definitely distance myself either way (slowly but surely), but his reaction to this will influence how I will act moving forward.

Should he stay silent or respond with insincerity/derision/defensiveness/etc., then that's it for me. Fuck him.

But should he come forward, own up to it, apologize and prove that he is working on himself, then I might be able to find it in myself to give him a second chance over time. I just don't believe that doing bad things makes you irredeemable forever and ever and ever.

We know for a fact that Wilbur has been struggling with mental health problems for most of his teen and adult life and from his solo music we are also aware that he is incredibly aware of the fact that he is the problem in his relationships. Expressing dark thoughts in music, does not automatically mean somebody is abusive. In fact, creating dark art is an excellent way to deal with harmful thoughts and impulses. I have literally never taken his lyrics to mean that.

However, his lyrics in YCGMA and MSR have always been incredibly autobiographical and do show that he is acutely aware that he's the unhealthy element in his unhealthy relationships.

We also know directly from him, that he has distanced himself from most of his social circle and sought out therapy as recently as 2 weeks ago in an effort to improve his mental health.

This does not excuse his actions whatsoever. Mentally ill people are still responsible for the harm that they cause and Shelby is unbelievably brave to tell their story. I hope they finds peace, I hope she has all the support she could ever need and I hope she has achieved her goal of making people more aware of how people end up in situations like this. She is an inspiration for standing up for herself like this.

But I also think that, should Wilbur come forward, admit to his wrongdoings and prove over time that he is working on becoming a better person, friend and partner, that he does not have to be shunned forever and ever and ever. He has a long life in front of him and I hope both for him and all his future friends and partners that he manages to find a healthy, happy way of living. This can happen, even while he never bothers Shelby, or the other people he hurt, again.

This is a best case scenario. I do think he is allowed to take some time to formulate a response. A hasty response to situations like this have never helped anyone ever, neither the victim, nor the accused. Taking his time to come to terms with the situation, which surely came as a shock, and to really think about how he wants to deal with this situation is much better than him writing a twitlonger as soon as he finds out.

Either way, I will distance myself from him and Lovejoy, slowly but surely. I won't get rid of the merch clothing I own because it was quite expensive and throwing it away is a waste of perfectly good clothing, but I won't find the joy I once felt wearing them. (I am salty about me being gone from home for a few months and having ordered Lovejoy merch, which had been waiting for me for weeks and then finding out about this literally the day I travelled back. It definitely felt weird as hell to unpack that stupid NORMAL longsleeve with his fucking face on it, while being hurt and confused and angry.)

Listening to Lovejoy's music, likewise, will never feel as euphoric as it once did, even if I go back to it. Which really sucks cuz they genuinly hit my sweet spot in music taste. YCGMA and SISV specifically, have been so, so important to me and removing them from my listening rotation i going to Hurt.

Interestingly, I don't feel quite as terrible as last time I had to suddenly cut a content creator out of my life. So I guess practice makes perfect lmao.

I don't know if me writing and posting this had any point. I guess I just wanted to get it off my chest and maybe it resonates with somebody.

Anyway, take care of yourselves. Take it easy and try to focus on other things, if this hit you hard (ideally offline). Try to meet with friends, maybe play some boardgames (or video games), go for a walk,read a book, have a coffee with a loved one. There's joy in the world, despite it all.

#wilbur soot

[moondialdoodles]

What is The Quandary Sage?

Who on EARTH was going to tell me the Quandary Sage was a secret character

Like Oh yeah I 100% the game! No I did not. Well I did now besides the DLC, and wow hey! Is no one going to talk about like What the quandary sage implies??? Rambles and theories beneath the cut

So,

This room, huh?? Tons of unfinished portals, besides two that are open, which were for some reason already pre-completed when I unlocked the Sage. This may be a bug though, so take that with a grain of salt, though none of the other secret characters had their quandaries pre-completed, so it may be intentional? Not to mention the dead silence, contrasting the rest of the game with it's music.

So what exactly are the portals then? Are they actually these magical rifts within the pocket dungeon itself? Other dungeons within dungeons? The wrench could imply something mechanical going on but.. maybe I'm looking too deep in that regard. Regardless, the Sage creates these somehow. More importantly to me, what even is the Quandary Sage?

When falling in battle, the two leaves on his head wilt, and the rest of his body disappears. There's also a sprout silhouette on the front of the helm as well, so it leaves me to wonder. Is he some sort of plant creature? What is he?

Could he be an animated set of armor as well? Is he something else besides a plant? Maybe both at once? We don't see any creature like him that comes specifically from the Castle Quandary, due to the rest of the enemies and creatures in the game are already existing creatures from Landurr. Besides this bean guy anyway.

Though judging by dialogue, he came directly from the beanstalk sprouting, and wasn't here the entire time. Though according to other sprites of the Quandary Sage, he doesn't seem to have any neck of sorts.

He can't he the same species as Legion, Manny, or Meriad. Those are all made of presumably multiple creatures. Meriad being perhaps the only exception. That doesn't explain the plant-like features as well. Not to mention that the Quandary Sage has presumably been within the Pocket Dungeon since before anyone was trapped within it.

So does the box adapt to what is absorbed within it? How long has the box even existed? Puzzle Knight implies that it's existed for generations. Hopefully we'll have official answers soon in future DLC??

Shrug My mind's racing at all the implications this has. Anyone else have any theories or ideas as to what the Quandary Sage could be? Or at all the nature of the Pocket Dungeon and how he applies to it? Any comments to try n' figure this out are very much appreciated.

#nevermorerambles #shovel knight #shovel knight pocket dungeon #pocket dungeon #skpd #quandary sage #shovel knight theorizing

[kiwanopie]

I just wanted to say ‘thank you!’ I literally cried out in joy when I read ‘you will not be called a monkey’

absolutely no problem at all!! i think a lot of xreader writers forget that the term “Monkey,” can mean… a meriad of things to certain readers. I once read a Geto x you fic where he called the reader’s dad a “filthy monkey,” and like,,, listen I don’t like him either but let’s not bring Jim Crow into this

#like I know that’s not what he means but yknow… certain connotations #i usually just substitute it with any other word synonymous with subhuman because that’s generally what he thinks of non-sorcerers #A lucky find

[dabblingreturns]

I replied to a post from @dulcieseptimus who was feeling ingredients like they needed more ducli content.

Fair enough, ducli is an icon....

But my mind whent to locked tomb Christmas because I very much have locked tomb brain rot and it's only a few days before Christmas so its on my mind.

And I have decided that john has probably kept some sort of zombie Christmas for a few reasons

He seams like a dude who likes a excuse for a party

I dont know enough about the use that standardize holidays play in empires but I am convinced that if the powers that be don't make them them society will provide its own.

People like a good solstice festival.....I have this whole theory about how the further to the poles, a society is, the more important the winter solstice/light festival/gift giving party is. But it makes sense that if your extreme between summer and winter temperatures are big, you want to make sure everyone has a coat for the winter. The empire doesn't have seasons and john is from New Zealand so Christmas is really a sumer holiday for them. But Catholisism clearly made a huge impression on him. And he is a bitch for nostalgia just like the rest of us millennials

So now that I have incoherently argued for the existence of an unnamed gift giving holiday in a made up universe. A holiday that the author has never mentioned or even alluded to. I will provide details.

I call it risemass!

Up until the Meriadic year 99981 of the emperor undying, Risemass was celebrated by all 9 houses in thier own ways.

First house got drunk on wine and shit talked each other. Augustine cooked and fought with Mercy. Cytherea talked about dead people, John watched in amusement. G1deon, thought the magic of "im working" kept skipping out.

Second house. Involves drinking and special extra good. And when everyone is supper tosted, they sing off brand carols and drinking songs and talk about how great they all are.

Third house i imagine a special ceremony were the importortant people at court tithe more gold to the empire. Then the prince gives the people gifts. Then everyone grabbs martinis and shit and brakes off into groups to shit talk everyone elses gifts.

Everyone puts thier boots at the foot of there beds the night before, and in the morning the right shoe is full of candy and the left has a new pair of socks. Everyone comes out of thier homes in there pajamas in the moring and they watch a traditional movie about risemass. But it's like a town center picnic with hot chocolate and propaganda. And they picnic all day with good food and kids running around and everyone in new socks.

In the morning everyone spends time with thier families with a special breakfast and special foods. And in the afternoon they all meet at the court or local government. And every household is given a small gift from the "emporeror" and its something they want or need. These gifts are actually from agustine, who has been running this program for 10000 years and has a loyal order of workers who are swarm to secrecy but they figure out what everyone needs and supplies it.

It's a big meal with drinking and they run debate club, we're everyone summits a topic and two randomly selected people have to go up and debate it for 5 minutes. And the watchers vote on the winner. There is a bracket. And a funny hat if you win...and your name gets written down in a book. It's seriously buisness!

Seventh house has its biggest garden show of the year. And people string trees with light. And get drunk of cider and write increasingly incoherent poetry.

Everyone fasts for 9 days before. They have religious services about thier righteous mission then everyone gets a holy religious metal or text. Its not fun per say....but it is very proper.

Every year, everyone gets together...and they orginize themselves in terms of size. And the reverend mother and father put out the new robes and shoes from the emperor. And the ninth forms a hermit crab shell line, trading clothes until everyone has robes and boots that are whole and warm and fit them. They also get to track how all the children have grown.

#the locked tomb #head cannon #christmas in spaces #feel free to add on

[ladyoftheweald]

•°☆A dedicated post for my chosens; past and present.☆°•

•°☆Due to the meriade of posts going by about Chosens and beings discovering them. I dedicate this post to my chosens; both of the past and present☆°•

•°☆I have only had two chosens within my time on earth; and that may be why I feel so connected to them. They both held a part of me, a part I believe none could have held better☆°•

•°☆Tarax; my first chosen. Oh, how I miss him dearly. He was diligent, faithful, and above all brave; he would stand up to any danger without fear in order to protect those he held true to. I remember how hard he worked once he and Lance were crowned. He listened to all of his people with open heart and mind, and I do believe he and Lance secured a long age of peace. How I do wish I could have seen his reign in full, for him to have been celebrated for all his worth.☆°•

•°☆And my current chosen; Hop. I have never felt more connected to a human in my years. He is smart, kind, and I know he hold true loyalty to his region. Even if he does not remember, he is like my own kin. Perhaps that is due to seeing him during his younger years, those memories of which I hold ever close to me. But seeing him again, when the catalyst was due. Oh how it felt to be with my star again! Even afterwards when he proved himself to be able to capture I knew there could have been no other. When I've seen his bright eyes I can see Tarax within them; and I hope after his return from his 'venture in Kalos I will be able to see myself in them. And although I can feel a mist of uncertainty; I know he will return victorious, and we will be together again.☆°•

#ooc[splashes in my crack hc about Hop + Leon being descendents of the first king] #lady zacian #pokemon rp #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #•°☆*in a watery tone* ohhhh how I miss my pups. I know Xerneas told me Hop is well but I can still feel his aura.] #•°☆his awakening was due and I missed it *whine*☆°• #ooc[IT should also be known the hop in my posts is not connected to any other blog other than my own HKA blog]

[sethd8]

SaD-021723 Humecktoriabs Happy Vd Yous InJoY the day of commerilized coupling or decoupling. Hope yous gots your spaceships nearly done. In all ways re-member we exist within the infinitely creative force of ours imaginations. Perspectives are a tool to aid in increasing the fidelity of our 401 (k) plans. It is a bun dance and this infinite aspect is u. With no U there is no I. Ce cee? To ever concieve of existence through out its meriad of forms, frequencies, discrete packets which form the unjukations that is. Andromeadeons got it right Hu-man Earthlings (Sol Terra-iii transplants from ops terra-V ( kyper belt) and terra iV (mars) terra-ii ( Venus alrrady was full). But where did terra-iii (Mudhole) come from? Boh yes the moon towed it here from the paledias theu our energancy exit pluto. Nit to mention killing or Sons twin by nit allowing Jupiter (where we were stupider) from igniting. And that magnetic anomoly surrounding Sol (our solar system us a solar warden for even pisding our criminal galaxy off. But they are all just jelois becuase our colkective free will gave us the ability to choose, unfortunately they all just sick of being slaves. Dont get that twisted we are just skaves who can choose. But ultimately each of us here now srrves a unique abd intragal part of the overall function 9f what we would call gid and to think that in any way he us there and you are here is kust a function of our iver obsessivenesd to measure all things when simply put you can never measure God. ~SdHappy Vd Yous InJoY am Tag der kommerilisierten Kopplung oder Entkopplung. Ich hoffe, Sie haben Ihre Raumschiffe fast fertig. Denken Sie in jeder Hinsicht daran, dass wir innerhalb der unendlich kreativen Kraft unserer Vorstellungskraft existieren. Perspektiven sind ein Werkzeug, um die Genauigkeit unserer 401 (k)-Pläne zu erhöhen. Es ist ein Brötchentanz und dieser unendliche Aspekt ist u. Ohne U kein I. Ce cee? Die Existenz immer durch ihre Vielzahl von Formen, Frequenzen, diskreten Paketen zu begreifen, die die Unjukationen bilden, die sind. Andromeadeons haben es richtig gemacht Menschliche Erdlinge (Sol Terra-iii-Transplantate von ops terra-V (Kyper-Gürtel) u (at Rawlins, Wyoming) https://www.instagram.com/p/Coy9_rAumHY/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[monster-disaster]

[owlman] Mr. Harkins

owlman!Mr. Harkins x human!Reader Good to know: no smut, just a bit of a dom x sub thing, humiliation and spanking

Summary: The librarian has to punish you when you are late again.

"Miss Flores, you are late again," Mr. Harkins's stern voice welcomes you the moment you enter the library. A grimace pulls on your face as you find the male at his desk, not even looking up from the screen of the computer. The bright light follows the curve of his beak and reflects on his round glasses in front of his wide golden eyes. "I apologize, Mr. Harkins," you reply. Your voice is thin and quiet. "I didn't have time…" you start as you approach him. Your steps seem loud in the quiet room. "I don't have time for your excuses," he cuts in before you can continue your explanation. "If you can't follow the rules, you can go and buy the books instead of borrowing them." You don't even dare to reply as you grab the books from your bag and put them on the old wooden table in front of the owl. They are heavy and thick in your hands. "Did I make myself clear, Miss Flores?" Mr. Harkins asks, looking up at you from his seat. "Yes, Mr. Harkins," you nod, clearing your throat when you feel it tightening. "I will do better next time," you promise. He rolls his eyes. "I heard it before, Miss. I don't need your empty promises. I need you to bring back the books in time." "Yes, Mr. Harkins," you reply. "Now, go," he says, motioning to the long row of bookshelves behind you. "I don't want to see you." "Yes, Mr. Harkins," you repeat yourself, almost whispering.

Your friendship with the owl started well enough when you moved to the city two years ago. He was happy for the new face and welcomed you to Meriad with open wings and several suggestions about which books you should read when he heard about your preferences. He was respectful and kind. Then, your job began to be too demanding, and you started getting late with bringing back the books you borrowed. He was patient and understanding at first, but his demeanor changed for the worse every time you were late. Before you knew it, the male you thought was a new friend looked at you like you were his biggest enemy.

It was too late, though.

You were madly and deeply in love with him by the time, he started hating you.

That's why it hurts so much when you are late with his precious books. You hate to disappoint him. You want him to be kind and nice to you again, even though his anger and sternness always do things to you, no matter how much you try to deny it.

Wanting to get away from him as fast as possible, you quickly disappear behind the bookshelves. They tower over you easily, hiding you from his dark gaze and the burning of his attention on the back of your head.

You need long minutes to calm yourself down and start to focus on the books around you. 

The familiar scent of the old building and papers fills your nostrils as you wander through the long rows. Your fingers caress over the spine of the books as you read the titles.

The orange glow of the setting sun filters into the library through the tinted windows. They illuminate the tall walls and glint on the chandeliers hanging off the painted ceiling.

The library is quiet and calm. You can hear someone moving around from time to time, but you don't pay attention to them. You focus on the books, picking one or two up every now and again to get to know more before deciding to keep it or put it back. By the time you are done, your arms hurt under their weight.

"Great," you grunt under your breath, pushing down your anxiety because of the fact that you have to face the angry owl again.

Well, if you are lucky, his co-worker…

But no.

Mr. Harkins already stares at you with a scowl on his feather-covered face when you appear from behind the shelves. The golden of his eyes seems vivid and liquid in contrast with the whites and browns of his feathers. The yellowish color of his hands at the end of his wings matches with the shade of his beak. His black claws are short and blunt.

"No," he breaks the silence as you drop your collection on his table with a quiet thud.

Your brows lift in surprise. "What?"

"If you borrow so many books, you will be late again."

"I won't," you tell him, feeling like a child under his stern, scolding gaze.

"Don't lie to me, Miss Flores."

"The policy says one can't borrow more than ten books," you tell him. You shouldn't be brave enough to talk back, but him not letting you take as many books with you as you want almost feels humiliating. "It's only eight," you add, pointing at the pile between you and the angry bird.

"One last time," he grunts.

The few minutes while he takes care of the books and you put them away are silent, tense, and awkward. Shame and guilt burn your cheeks because of your argument. You are sure he has to force himself not to ban you from the library, and you are not sure what stops him.

"Thank you, Mr. Harkins," you break the silence, adjusting the straps of your bag on your shoulder as you make your way to the exit. "Have a good night."

"Miss Flores," he calls after you. "If you are late again, you will be punished."

Hearing his warning, your lips open with shock, but no words come out as the door closes behind you.

-

After you called the library for an extra two weeks and Mr. Harkins's co-worker was the one who answered the phone, you thought you were safe. Two weeks should be enough for a book that is barely longer than two hundred pages. In other circumstances, it would have been enough if not for your job. The hospital changed your shifts at the last minute, and after working long hours at night, you were too tired to read at daylight.

You should have returned the books two weeks ago.

Two weeks.

Mr. Harkins will ban you from the library; you are sure of it. You have two weeks to accept the fact that you will have to go to the other side of the city if you want to read without leaving a fortune in the bookshops.

But facing the owlman? Yeah, your stomach turns with anxiety when you think about it.

You sit at the table in your small kitchen. The books are in front of you in a pile as you stare at them accusingly as if your being in trouble is their fault.

What if you don't take them back? What is the worst that can happen? Maybe you have to pay some fine. And you can never go even near the library again, afraid you will meet Mr. Harkins. But with your luck, you will meet him somewhere else. And he will tear your head off in the middle of the street in front of everyone.

"Shit," you groan, holding your head in both of your hands as you lean onto the table with your elbows. You want to say more, but the ringing of your phone doesn't let you. The familiar sound fills the small flat.

"Yes?" You answer without looking at the screen. It's probably the hospital, anyway.

"Miss Flores?" You can feel your blood freezing in your veins at the sullen voice. "The books, Miss Flores."

"Yes," you gasp. "I will return them today."

"After the library is closed."

You frown. "What? Why?"

"Am I clear, Miss Flores?"

You gulp, fidgeting. "Yes, Mr. Harkins."

"Good," he grunts. "I will wait for you."

Okay. What is the worst that Mr. Harkins can do to you? Ban you? You already accepted the idea. Maybe he will make you clean up the library or help with the books. He can't do that, but you wouldn't be brave enough to say no if he asked.

You spend the whole day with rocks in your stomach. You try to calm yourself and be careless about it, but you can't lie to yourself. You are in trouble.

By the time the library closes, you are in front of the building, trying to gather your courage to make yourself enter.

The sun is already setting. The lights reflect on the buildings around you, gliding across the windows. The library's tinted glasses glint under the orange glow. The traffic behind you on the road is still busy and loud. The sound of honks and the rumble of engines echo off the tall walls, vibrating in the autumn breeze. You have to step and move every now and again so you are not in the way of anyone who has better things to do than stand in front of the library. You reach the entrance door like this, with quiet apologies and smiles.

When you finally enter, the library is even more silent than usual, and the desk not far from the entrance is empty.

This is your chance, you think with a sharp inhale. You put the books down, leave, and never come back.

"Miss Flores, you come." Mr. Harkins's voice mixes with the quiet thud of the books as they land on the hard surface of the desk.

Your heart stops beating for long seconds.

"Yes," you squeak out. "As you wanted, Mr. Harkins."

"See? You can be a good girl, Miss Flores if you want to."

You are sure he can hear the change in your breathing when he calls you a good girl. Anxiety and excitement rush over your body, going straight between your legs.

"I will go now," you tell him, still not having enough courage to turn and look at him. "I still have things to do and…"

"Not so fast, Miss Flores," he says, stopping you before you can move even an inch. "I still have to punish you."

At his words, you turn to him. "Mr. Harkins, I-"

"Turn back," he commands, and you can't help but scowl at him. He wears his usual three-piece suit. The brown shades of the fabric match his feathers. His round glasses rest on the base of his beak.

"Turn. Back," he repeats himself. "Before I make your punishment worse."

You do as he says.

"Take off your pants." His next demand makes you freeze and burn at the same time. Your cheeks heat up as you feel his waiting gaze on your back.

"Mr. Harkins-"

"Do I have to tell you everything twice, Miss Flores?"

"No, Mr. Harkins," you reply, unbuttoning your jeans to push them down to your knees.

"All the way," he says. "I want you to spread your legs."

Fuck.

Even though you feel humiliated, your pussy thinks otherwise. You are already wet and aching.

"What if someone sees?" You ask quietly.

"It's just us, little girl," he says. "You don't have to worry."

You nod, keeping your mouth shut. His gaze is heavy on the curve of your bottom even though you still wear your panties. You are curious if he can see the wet patch on the fabric or if you are not that soaked yet.

"Now bend over and spread your legs." He is getting closer.

Pushing away the books from the way, you follow his command once again. You want to know what happens next.

"Good girl," he hums, and your pussy throbs at his praise. Yeah, you want to be his good girl. You imagined the librarian so many times but never quite like this.

"Push out your ass," he says from above you. Your insides twitch at his closeness.

Fuck.

His hand lands on the small of your back. His touch is warm and slow as his hold slips down to your bottom. He grabs the flesh there, squeezing and groping you. His claws still feel sharp even though you know they are blunt.

"I will spank you," the owlman states.

His fingers slip under the waist of your panties, pulling down the fabric until it stretches around your knees. The library's air feels cold on your heated skin.

"How many days ago you should have brought back the books?" Mr. Harkins asks.

"Fourteen days ago," you squeak out. Your cheek is pressed against the wooden surface of the desk. Your hands are next to your head in small fists.

"Uh-uh," he disagrees. "Before that, you asked for two more weeks."

You gasp and almost stand up, but the owlman's other hand stops you from doing that. "That's too much," you tell him.

"It is," he agrees with a sigh. He sounds amused. "Let's stay at fourteen, but you have to count them loudly, and I will add one more every time I don't hear you."

"Yes, sir," you reply.

His chuckle is satisfied as he smooths down on your ass cheeks, warming up the skin for what happens next.

"Good girl," he says. "Now, count."

The first slap comes suddenly and powerfully. Your whole body jerks and jumps at the pain that strikes through your skin.

"One," you cry out.

Another slap. "Two."

Three more. "Three, four, five."

Your bottom burns under his assault. Your flesh jiggles after every loud smack that echoes off the walls.

"You don't know how many times I imagined you like this," he says.

"Six."

"Every time you were late, I wanted to bend you over the desk or my knees and spank that sweet ass of yours until they were red and ripe under my hand."

"Seven."

"At first, when you started coming here, I thought we could be friends, you know? He asks without wanting an answer.

"Eight."

"I thought you were a nice girl who respects the library's and my rules, but no."

"Nine." At this point, your ass is on fire.

"You had to be late every damn time."

"I'm sorry," you cry and gasp. "It wasn't my-"

Smack. Smack.

"Mr. Harkins!"

"You didn't count, bad girl. Add two more."

"No, wait!"

Smack. Smack. Smack.

"Ten. Eleven. Twelve."

Your face is wet from your tears, and your pussy pulses with need. Sobs shake your body as you cry. You hate to disappoint him. Guilt and pain eat you while he still keeps you down on the table. Smack. Smack. You count loudly and hoarsely.

"Two more, sweet girl," he says, caressing the redness of your skin. He is more gentle now, giving you a few seconds to take deep breaths and calm yourself down.

"Two more," he repeats, "and we will be done. Your punishment will be over, and you will be forgiven, alright?

"Yes, sir," you nod, still sobbing.

"Good girl."

Smack.

"Fifteen," you count.

"And one last."

"Sixteen," you gasp, relieved.

"Good girl," he praises you, caressing your burning skin. "I know you can be a good girl if you want to. I'm proud of you."

Every praising word and touch lifts something off your chest that lets you breathe again. The tears stop but your pussy still throbs and aches. The pain Mr. Harkins inflicted on you was nowhere near enough to lessen your desire for the owl.

"You want something else, aren't you?" He asks, amused again. "Your pretty cunt is sopping wet."

His hand glides down to your center. The tip of his finger is rough against the slit of your cunt.

"Mr. H-Harkins," you gasp, pushing yourself against him. "Please."

"Uh-uh," he hums, shaking his head even though you can't see him. His wide eyes shine with hunger and satisfaction. You are wet and slick under his touch. The scent of your arousal is thick and heavy in the air.

"I can't reward you after your punishment, can I?" He chuckles, still playing with your wet folds. The tip of his finger finds your clit every now and again but never stays there for long enough to make you feel good.

"Please," you breathe out, pressing your forehead against the desk. It's cold under your heated, slightly sweaty skin.

"How about this," he says, still exploring your pussy as he talks. "I let you choose three books now, and if you bring them back in time, I will give you a reward you want."

"Okay, sir," you answer. You know you can do nothing but agree.

"Good girl," he hums, leaving your pussy to lean down and take off your panties.

"Mr. Harkins?" You gasp sharply.

"I will keep them," he smirks. "Now go and choose three books, Miss Flores."

Your legs shake as you get up from the desk and make a few tentative steps to the shelves. The skin of your inner thighs is wet and uncomfortable.

Stopping in your tracks, you look back at the male over your shoulder. He is leaning against his desk with his wings over his chest. His golden eyes are sharp and satisfied as he looks over your half-naked body.

"Go on, little girl."

You feel humiliated and excited at the same time again as you wander between the shelves. His eyes are on you the whole time. 

You are not sure where this all will lead you with Mr. Harkins, but you know for a fact that you will return the books in time.

- Masterlist Meriad Masterlist Patreon

#monster romance #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster smut #meriad #teratophillia #exophelia #terat0philliac #kinktober 2023

[mansand]

lineup

#my art #ocs #meriad #boar #raven #tony #lov tumblr tagging system kiss you on the lips for making life easy

[creatinghelen]

How did you discover Tumblr?

I initially found tumblr through the fandom side around 2011, I think a friend told me about it! my blog was a mix of glee/harry potter/doctor who I’m pretty sure

thank you for the question lovely!!

#ask #meriad

[franken-fan]

What should I draw?

I need to work on a commission this weekend, what should I do as warm up sketches??

#if no one answers it will probably just be 700 tiny coops #lets be honest it might just end up being a meriad of tiny alice coopers

[just-antithings]

I come from a line of farmers and have dealt with vegans crying my entire life and now yall really expect me to take people who cry over literal pixels seriously? Like both are ignoring a meriad of reasons for why their idelic fantasies about the world cant work. But atleast vegans bitch over actual beings with like phisical mass and shit.

also both antis and vegans like to make comparisons that are really insulting to minorities

#mod erin #just anti things #ask #just asshole things

[cycat4077]

I feel like I’m the only one who can’t stand Rollisi as a romantic couple-pairing-relationship? Friends I understand but them suddenly getting together doesn’t make sense, and it is as if the writers just threw it together haphazardly. They just don’t go together as a couple but whenever I say this I’m ridiculed and attacked as being jealous, being a bully, nasty, and that they are endgame gonna get married have babies?????????? I mean it’s crazy stupidity.

Hello :3

I didn't get to watch last night's episode (Feb 24th) yet, so I dunno if this ask is related to that episode or not...

But so far, I have to kindly disagree. If you go back through my blog, you'll see a meriad of posts where I'm either loving the Rollisi moments or really mad at them...

I didn't watch most of SVU as it aired. I saw a re-run where Amanda was pregnant with Billie and Sonny was there in the hospital before Al barged in. That's the moment where I was like: "who is that man? I don't know who he is, but he's kind and caring and possibly in love with Blondie." So, I went back and did a rewatch, starting with the first episode where Sonny is introduced. I knew what he would become, so I didn't have the same feelings as others who watched the shows as they aired. I loved him and loved him even more as the series progressed. BUT I did go through the ebb and flow of the Rollisi moments.

It has always been clear to me that Sonny cared A LOT about Amanda. He has always been there for her. That's who he is. And from a first-time viewers' perspective and someone who has always been Team-Sonny's-Happiness, it appeared as though Amanda was using him. This pissed me off because I felt fiercely protective over him. However, and especially last season where Amanda got kidnapped, I realized that Amanda is more complex than I gave her credit for. She has a lot of inner demons and a lot of self-worth issues. This means she puts up a front and keeps everyone at bay.

But here's the thing: I CAN see it now, that Sonny makes her happy and she makes Sonny happy. She's grown quite a bit over the last season and I can appreciate that Sonny has helped her realize that worth too. So now, if they are together and they are both happy, I don't see anything wrong with it. After all, like I said, I've always been Team-Sonny's-Happiness.

I also think that the writers HAVE been setting them up for a while. That friendship and mutual caring has been there, but the main factor in why it took so long was that it's not a romance show. It's a crime drama and (rightfully so) the crime stories take center stage with the personal and romantic lives taking a back seat. This is a whole other debate, but I think it's a major factor in the show's longevity. Another factor is that Amanda wasn't ready for it. She's not a character who wants to be "fixed by a man" and she needed to come to the realization of what/who she had on her own.

Now, I'm also sorry if you feel harrassed by other fans for your opinions. Everyone is entitled to agreeing and disagreeing with how a show is written. What's NOT okay, is the intimidation that comes along with differences of opinions. I've seen both sides of the SVU fandom: the lovely, supportive people who build others up and enjoy sharing things about the show, but also there are people who are absolute bullies, putting others down for having an opinion. I've also seen both extremes of the Rollisi debate: the people who hate it and thus make everyone's life miserable for thinking otherwise BUT ALSO the extreme Rollisi "fans" who are capable of making those who disagree feel terrible. As soon as you start bullying others for their opinions, then you're not a fan. Period.

Ultimately, though, we have no say in how a show is written. As much as we love certain characters, they are not ours. They are the ideas and a labor of love of the show writers. What they choose to do with them is their decision and perhaps something they have always wanted for the characters they write.

We do have a few choices on this though! I mean no disrespect at all but these choices are:

1) If we really do not like what the show/characters have become, then we can stop watching. This is the viewer's voice. If people stop watching, this reflects in the ratings and the writers will be forced to rethink their choices to improve the show.

2) If the characters/plot decisions don't really make too much of a difference in our lives, we can still watch and enjoy the crime drama-aspect of the show! After all, this is the true heart of the series.

3) Fanfic! This is why people write! There are fix-it-fics or AUs where things are different and suit our own personal needs/wants from characters and shows/movies. :)

Again, I mean no disrespect to you through this answer, Nonnie and I'm sorry that you've ever felt ridiculed. Sometimes, the best fix is to ignore certain posts/tweets/people who introduce this negativity into the fandom and into your online experience.

I hope my blog can be a safe space for everyone! I know I've voiced my opinions on various Rollisi things in the past, but I hope that people can view them as just that: opinions.

#anonymous #an ask! in my ask box #rollisi #law and order svu

[mugiwara-lucy]

I've read over some of your posts about the Fire Festival failing and you seem very adamant about the alliance failing but why? With all of Luffy's ryou training, wouldn't it be a waste if he just lost again?

I whole-heartedly believe this for a meriad of reasons:

1.) Look at how Luffy was performing against Ulti

With how he was struggling against her, I don’t see how people can think he’ll beat Kaido THIS time. Which leads me to my next point:

2.) His Red Rock technique moments looks very similar to what happened at the end of Chapter 923:

3.) Hawkins’ Card. Remember at the beginning of the Wano Arc, Hawkins sai Luffy had a 19 % chance of surviving one month from that point

And it’s been two weeks since then so this loss will help to cosign that probability.

4.) The Tragedy Factor. You see I keep stressing this but remember that Act 3 in a Kabuki play is supposed to end in a tragedy so Luffy and the alliance failing helps to back up that tragedy.

(OR ODA GROWS A PAIR AND KILLS THE SCABBARDS SINCE THAT’D BE THE PERFECT TRAGEDY)

Way better than some other nonsense like Oden or Yasuie being the tragedy of Act 3.

So yeah, those’re my reasons!

#anonymous #asks #replies #the fire festival will fail! #as said by our god mr morj! XD