#julian sprung

[batbabydamian]

DC April 2024 Solicitations - Comics Featuring Damian! 🦇

BATMAN AND ROBIN #8

4/9/24

Written by Joshua Williamson

Art and Cover by Simone Di Meo

Variant Covers: Kael Ngu, Ejikure, Jim Lee, Nikola Čižmešija (1:25)

As Batman finds himself in the clutches of a new cult that worships Man-Bat, Robin continues his own investigation into his High School's connections to Shush! Can the father and son dynamic duo uncover Man-Bat and Shush's master plans before Gotham pays the price?!

WONDER WOMAN #6

4/16/24

Written by Tom King

Art by Daniel Sampere and Belén Ortega

Variant Covers: Julian Totino Tedesco, Pablo Villalobos, Joshua “Sway” Swaby (1:25)

Wonder Woman vs. The Sovereign! After being captured by a team of villains, Diana finds herself at the mercy of the scariest of them all. Unbeknownst to our hero, the Sovereign has been pulling her strings since the very beginning of our tale, and now it's time for her to see the world his way as she falls under the influence of the Lasso of Lies! Plus, Trinity visits the past and unexpectedly changes the future!

NIGHTWING #113/Legacy #300

4/16/2024

Written by Tom Taylor

Art by Various

Variant Covers: Bruno Redondo (original cover+1:25), Dan Mora, Jim Lee (Artist Spotlight), Jamal Campbell, Serg Acuna

Since the 1940's, you've seen him go from acrobat to orphan; from Dick Grayson to Robin; from Robin to Nightwing. You've seen him work alongside the universe's most powerful heroes, against existence's most sinister villains. You have seen Dick Grayson do so many things, but now, in his 300th issue, you will see him.. well, you'll just have to pick up the issue and find out. Join us for this legacy 300 milestone!

*DC’S SPRING BREAKOUT!

*Cover feature - Damian hang gliding in the bg :)

4/30/2024

Written by Meghan Fitzmartin, Cameron Chittok, Joey Esposito, Morgan Hampton, Patrick R. Young, Tom Krajewski, Mike Barr, and more!

Art by Kenya Danino, Vasco Georgiev, Paul Pellietier, Nico Bascuñan, and more!

Cover by John Timms

Variant Covers by Dan Mora

Spring has sprung! Flowers are blooming, bees are buzzing, Harley is breaking King Shark out of Belle Reve prison. all is right in the DCU as both heroes and villains face all sorts of different spring breaks. Breaking out of a coffin? Lex Luthor has that covered. Spring break training? Send in Superman! Breaking out of your shell? Batman and Mr. Freeze explore that possibility through a connection in their shared past. Breaking down a worthy adversary? Katana and her sword of souls might just be able to tackle that. And it wouldn't be a spring break without a Teen Titans beach trip! All these and more in DC's Spring Breakout! -eight breakout stories to put a spring in your step (is there a zit breakout story? You'll have to read to find out!)

TEEN TITANS: STARFIRE

7/2/2024

Written by Kami Garcia

Art by Gabriel Picolo

Kori Anders' summer job at a ritzy Santa Monica beach club is fun, but she doesn't care about keeping up with the current trends, and she's not interested in rushing around to all the parties. She'd rather explore her inexplicable draw to the stars or hang out with her new friend, Victor Stone. Her sister, Kira, on the other hand, is the most popular girl around. With the hottest clothes, an even hotter boyfriend (the Tate Fairweather), and a take-no-prisoners attitude, she's Kori's opposite in every way. Their summer heats up when Tate's uncle asks the girls to participate in an EDS study his pharmaceutical company is running. During treatment, Kori develops some strange powers she never had before...and she might not be the only one. Can Kori persuade her sister to trust her before it's too late? And when a carload of teens with their own powers come looking for her to warn her about a creepy stalker, she'll learn that trust is a two-way street!

#baby bat sighting #damian wayne #guessing the WW backup is still Super Sons related. Trinity tell Damian not to become Batman in the future lol #Damian’s sleeveless Robin outfit looks kinda goofy LOL but it looks like he’s having fun 😭 #i’ve been avoiding titles that only feature Damian on cover art especially without confirmation he’s in the actual issue but #some of the covers are really cute and who knows maybe someone might end up liking the comic!! #fun lil note but the writer and artist for the Red Hood webtoon are together again for the Lex story in the Spring anthology! #it’s just nice seeing comic creators have more opportunities to return

[ectogeo-art]

Siskarak baby trap - thoughts? (I started thinking about it in a crack-treated-seriously kinda way and had to share)

Lmao, oh wow, this is one of the funniest and most unhinged asks I've ever received! Thank you sincerely! <3

Here's my thoughts:

Garak and Sisko are sleeping together casually. Sisko gets Garak pregnant, and when Garak tells him, Sisko's like, “Ah fuck, my bad, I must have forgotten my birth control this month... Okay, well don't worry, you can just get an abortion and I promise I'll be more careful next time.” And Garak's like, “Oh, I'm keeping it. ^_^ <3”

(Maybe, sometime before this, Julian sees that Garak is on his way to talk to Sisko after lunch and asks him to remind Sisko to go get his monthly shot today, and Garak says he will but then simply doesn't. And then, not coincidentally, stops taking his own contraceptives too. <3)

Anyway, now Sisko’s sweating, because this thing with Garak was NOT supposed to be serious at all. He’s in a pickle, because on the one hand, he’s not really interested in signing up for the long-term commitment of raising a child with Garak… but he’s also CERTAINLY not going to just entrust GARAK to father this kid on his own, like, that is a recipe for disaster. So he’s kind of stuck with him now, in order to mitigate the damage, even though he obviously doesn't feel good about the situation.

For Garak, it's partially a tactic to get Julian's attention (all those doctor’s appointments to make sure his pregnancy is okay) and obviously to make him jealous, while also gaining leverage over Sisko and making him cater to his every whim in the meantime. Win-win.

That extra bit of jealousy is all it takes for Julian to finally realize/admit how he feels about Garak. Garak gets an abortion shortly after he and Julian get together. Sisko is mostly relieved... but also after weeks or whatever of Garak guilting him into caring about this fetus, he's also a little bit sad (he would never admit this out loud).

I'd love to hear your take on this concept too, anon! This is just the plot outline that immediately sprung to mind for how I would personally go about writing such a thing. (And sorry that I made it Garashir, I always make it Garashir lol. <3)

(EDIT: A follow up post about this concept here.)

#slide into my dms or askbox to whisper insane siskarak concepts into my ear anytime. ANYTIME!!! #siskarak

[vivi-in-the-sky-with-diamonds]

Could you do 25 with Ringo from the prompt list👉👈 I also wanted to say that I really love your works.

Hihi! So glad you like my work <3 this ended up being shorter than I wanted it to be BUT I like it a lot and hope you will too! Proofed in UK English (yk, the usual). Enjoy!

Darling, I Love Only You

(Source)

Ringo knew you’d been feeling down.

“Seasonal depression. Gotta love it,” you’d explained with a hint of sarcasm.

He’d only smiled an understanding smile then.

“Rich, where are we going?” you ask, watching the scenery pass by from the passenger side window.

“It’s a surprise,” he answers cheekily.

You pout a bit and go back to watching the trees.

Soon, you arrive at your destination: a beautiful field full of all manners of wildflowers.

“Oh, this place is beautiful!” you exclaim.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Rich says with a smile. “We’re havin’ a picnic, so I want you to pick the spot.”

As you’re eating a moment later, you hear him say, “Hey, Y/N.”

You look up to see he’s wearing a crown made of daisies and dandelions.

“Aren’t you pretty?” you say with a tiny laugh. “Can you show me how to make one?”

He scoots closer to you. “The trick is to pick the ones with longer stems. Go pick some for me?”

You stand from your spot and go off to pick a bouquet of wildflowers.

“These alright?” you ask when you return.

“Oh, just perfect,” he replies. “Come ‘ed.”

You sit next to him, cross legged, and watch him intently.

“Right, so what you do next is braid the stems, see? Just like braidin’ your hair,” he explains.

He takes your hands and guides them in the motions to braid.

“Like this?” you ask.

“Mhmm. Here is when you want to add the next flower.” He grabs a flower from your bunch and adds it into the chain.

“How do you know this?” You continue braiding and adding flowers as you speak.

“My mum taught me,” he answers.

Soon, you’ve finished your crown and placed it atop your head. “How does it look?” you ask, moving your head this way and that to show off your headwear from all angles.

“Just as pretty as you,” Rich replies.

You smile wide. “Oh, stop it, Ritchie!”

Now he smiles. “I knew I could get you to smile! I’m so happy you’re feelin' better, love.”

You smile again. “Well, spring has finally sprung, so I’ll hopefully be fine until it snows again. That and this outing has made me extremely happy.”

He wraps an arm around you. “You know I can’t stand to see you sad. I love you, darlin'.”

“I love you more, my little Starr.”

Before it’s said and done, you’ve both made about ten flower crowns each.

“Well, we can always give some to the lads,” you say with a laugh.

“And Julian can take some,” he adds. “But surely he doesn’t need sixteen crowns.”

You think for a moment before stacking three crowns and setting them atop the crown Ritchie’s already wearing.

He lets out that beautiful laugh of his before doing the same to you.

In a fit of giggles, the two of you end up falling backwards in the dirt together.

Ringo hoists himself above you and leans down into a kiss, which you accept with a smile.

#mine #the beatles #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles x reader #beatles x reader #beatles imagines #beatles imagine #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #the beatles imagine #the beatles imagines #vivi in the sky with fanfics #request fic

[aethes-bookshelf]

this lovely heart of mine || asra/reader

I am once again resurrected! Work and college have been kicking my ass, but I'm still working on stuff in the background (like fully plotting out and writing the rest of 'knowing you, knowing me' lol). In the meantime, I thought I could finish and post some of my shorter WIPs.

The whole 'sharing a heart' thing is a hc of mine btw. I hope you enjoy! ^^

Pairing: Asra/Reader

Wourdcount: 1.2k

Warnings: none

Summary: To bring you back, Asra gave up half his heart. But now that half lives on in you.

Two people, one heart. The two of you are never truly alone - and tonight neither of you want to be.

(AKA Exploration of the connection Asra and MC have due to sharing a heart.)

ao3 ver

The night was surprisingly cold for summer. Asra’s skin prickled with goosebumps as he rolled up the sleeves of his coat; he didn’t want them getting in the way of setting up camp. He unfastened his luggage to get his tent out. Pulling it out was a bit of a struggle  — it got tangled up with a few of the books and scrolls he had haphazardly stuffed in his bag while packing. Just as he was about to pull it out fully, one of the lines of the tent caught on a corner of a book and stretched quite a bit before slipping off. It hit him in the leg with full force.

‘Ow, shit!’ Asra jumped a bit at the impact. What started as a sharp sting quickly turned into burning. He lifted the leg of his pants to check the damage. His skin slowly grew darker in the spot where the line hit.

Asra sighed through his nose and reached into his bag again, this time looking for some soothing ointment to help the irritated skin. It was a good thing that blasted line hadn’t drawn blood — he wasn’t sure if he had any bandages on him, especially clean ones.

As he was patting the ointment onto the forming bruise — Julian’s own blend, apparently —  he noticed a probing, familiar presence at the edge of his mind. The symbol on his chest, normally hidden from view by his clothes, shone faintly through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Asra smiled, bruise and ointment both forgotten. He sat down cross-legged next to his bag, with the tent still sticking out of it. He made sure to face away from the still-bright lights of the village he was staying near — right at the border between small, white houses and the plane of grass surrounding them. He didn’t want the village’s people to see the symbol on his chest; what it represented was too touchy of a subject to share with near-strangers. They’d be sure to ask about it if they spotted it shining beneath his shirt. And they would spot it if given the chance to — most of the people who were still outside were young, their eyes still sharp. 

Besides… What he was about to do was a tad bit too intimate to do facing others.

* * *

You were busy packing an order at your shop. The sun was setting — it’d almost disappeared beneath the horizon. It was getting pretty dark, the brightness of the day giving way to growing dimness.

You snapped your fingers at nearby candles while collecting packets of dried herbs. A few flames sprung to life. They made shadows dance and flicker on the walls.

‘Will that be all?’ you asked the customer. You still wore your customary polite smile, but the day had been long and you could feel your energy leaving you. This person would be the last client for today, you decided.

‘Yes, thank you very much.’ They said, taking the merchandise off the table. They paid what was due and left through the open front door, wishing you a good night.

You liked them quite a lot — they were a regular in your shop — always made sure to stop by and buy something whenever they took a trip to this part of Vesuvia. But even their customary pleasantries and sunny attitude hadn’t cured your exhaustion.

You circled the front desk of your shop and went to the front door. You closed it with a heavy sigh. The lock clicked into place; you left the key inside it to spare yourself fetching it tomorrow.

Despite how tired you were, you still had to clean up the place. Tomorrow was still a work day, so you couldn’t leave your shop looking a mess.

You picked up a few parchment scrolls you’d used earlier in the day to roll them back up when you felt a familiar presence at the edge of your heart. It seemed like Asra finally answered your call.

Smiling, you sat down in a nearby chair and got to work on rolling the first scroll up. A wave of new sensation washed over you, taking you somewhere different.

You smelled fresh, crispy night air, tinted with a bit of incense Asra always carried with them in their travel bag. You felt grass beneath their folded legs as if they were your own. You heard voices from somewhere behind you — adults talking, children playing, a dog barking. Your leg stung a bit where the rope hit theirs. You frowned. Did they pack that ointment Julian made for them? Did the skin break? You didn’t think it did, there was no scent of blood in the air. Still, you worried.

Calmness rushed into your heart; you knew it was Asra soothing you. You took a deep breath, grateful for the reassurance. Everything was okay. They were okay.

* * *

Asra put a hand over his heart, right where the symbol was. Its light shone through the gaps between his fingers; it felt like warmth, it felt like home. It felt like you.

Leaving you these days was different from leaving you before you learned the truth about what happened. Before, every time he left, he was running away from you. There was a tinge of shame to it all. How a part of him feared coming back and looking you in the face again, knowing you didn’t know, couldn’t know about how the guilt tore him apart. How you didn’t know he had abandoned you once — and what it’d done to you.

Now, he longed for the day he’d see you again every time he left to restock the shop’s supplies. It was like being able to breathe after being submerged in water for far too long. No more fear, no more shame. Because now he didn’t have to hide from you.

He felt the plush softness of the chair you were in and the scrolls moving beneath your fingers. He heard the paper rustling as you rolled it back into place. Could smell the dust on it and the herbs drying by the windows of the shop. He could see the shadows flickering on the wall in front of you; if he reached out his hand, he could almost touch them.

Being with you like this eased the bitterness of being apart. Physically, he might be away, but anytime the loneliness was too much to bear, he could just reach out to you and you would answer. Always, without fail. Just as he would answer you.

Your feelings flowed through him in a steady stream. Comfort, love, tiredness. You should go to sleep, damn the cleaning. You could always do it in the morning.

No, there’s too much to do to leave it all for later, he thought. Thinking it was almost like you speaking to him, through him, but not quite. He still couldn’t put a finger on what it was exactly, but he had more than enough time to figure it out. He’d find out eventually.

Right now, the only thing he needed to know was that you were there, on the other side. That you were safe. And that when he reached out to you, you’d be there. No matter what.

#asra x reader #asra x apprentice #asra x you #asra the arcana x reader #the arcana asra #asra fluff #teeth rotting fluff #he/they pronouns for asra #gn reader #gender netural reader #no y/n #no y/n's around here #my writing #asra the arcana #the arcana

[taanoir]

The following post contains sensitive content related to addiction and death. I am placing it under the cut because that is not a surprise I want sprung on anyone.

If you would like the very high level details, please send me a message. <3

Jimmy's choices caught up to him. The little something for later ended up being a lot of something at one time.

Jimmy's luck had run out. He was gone before Rita came looking for him.

Rita was gutted. She couldn't function, not for the girls, not for herself. She spent her waking hours obsessing over what she could have done or what she could change. No amount of examining the rear view could change the road ahead.

Gene was crushed, as much as he and his brother fought, it was still his big brother. Part of him had clung to the belief that his parents were right, Jimmy would pull it together, he always did. His emotions swirled, overwhelming everything. Gene took some time off from his business to focus on his family.

Milo found himself comforting Gene and the girls. When Julian and Evie died, he felt their passing as strongly as the rest of the family. He had loved them too. With Jimmy's passing he felt bad for Gene and the kids, but he didn't feel the loss. If anything he felt guilt for not feeling their grief. Jimmy's passing hit Nicole the hardest, she sobbed and snubbed and there was nothing anyone could do to console her. Nicole's hurt hit Milo the hardest, the reality that he couldn't fix it or make it better cut him to his core.

#ts4 gameplay #historychallenge #childrenofcalisto #gen 8 #death tw #tw death #addiction tw

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 159- Hemorrhage

Summary: The Elvenking envisions the future of Mirkwood. Bullseye on the bad blood. Garrett and Josephine have an electrifying moment. Lola swoons. Legolas gets the 411 on all he missed. The Prince bares his soul and also makes an undisclosed protective decision. Stephane gets the wrong idea and lashes out. Bash receives a sinister sign.

Notes: The gifs of Thranduil are intended to be depictions of what he has become and has nothing to do with Prince Nuada from Hellboy

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, sexual depictions

Chapter characters: Thranduil, Garrett, Kate, Legolas, Josie, Lola, Leeanduil, Bash, Narcisse

Chapter word count: 6,571

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

As preparations were underway in Thranduil's halls for the celebratory feast of his return, per his own proposal, the Elvenking that he now truly was in every sense of the word, sat in his chambers with a carafe of Dorwinion's wicked wine at his side, anticipating Legolas's return with you and his newborn daughter he had never even laid eyes upon yet.

Dusk was settling in and the last rays of sunlight shone through the stone wall window that he sat faced away from, for the newly conceived dark elf lord no longer enjoyed the light. It now pained his sensitive eyes and irritated his maturing scarred skin, making him feel ill and weak just as anything evil would do when he was once an elf of light, so he would now remain inside each dreadful day until the moon would reign the night.

Thranduil had many futuristic plans for his Kingdom. First and foremost was to have his daughter in his arms and you gone, but to accomplish that, you had to be tricked into bringing Leeanduil to back to Mirkwood, which is what he sent his son to Dorwinion to do. Little did the King know though, was that Legolas was on to his father's sinister scheme and the Prince would now struggle with carrying out such a devious deed, let alone even informing you that your King was alive because of his malevolent condition he was unsuccessfully harboring from his son.

Second on his agenda was to fill his halls and lands with the dark essence of the 200 mile wide and 400 mile long Mirkwood forest surrounding his borders, much like Jareth's kingdom and any of his company, including his two captains of the guard, Tauriel and Feren, that were insubordinate under his rule would suffer infinite dungeon captivity. And lastly, with what was to come on the 21st of December, no one would enter his kingdom and no one would leave it.

A chilling breeze, carrying the warning of winter's impending arrival, rolled down the stone stairwell that led to Thranduil's beloved gardens and flowed through the elf lord's platinum strands that had now lost it's lustrous shine. He raised his attentive nose, closing his sullen citrine eyes and flaring his nostrils as he breathed in the scent of death.

The Elvenking sprung to his feet and quickly ascended the stairs leading to the outside and viewed the sooty colored clouds funneling about with slitted eyes that displayed strobes of reflective lightning within them.

A morose scowl consumed his thinning lips as Thranduil glowered at the darkness he should have been enthralled over.

"So it has begun." he snarled as he recalled his previous throne meeting, informing all that Jareth would unleash a weapon so great, it would destroy all before it.

As carmine red as his base blood now ran, almost matching the wicked wine in his carafe. Thranduil wanted no partaking in Jareth's army of darkness, the evil dead the goblin King conjured from the depths of hell which were now scattered all about middle earth, for he knew who some of those entities would be.

He returned to his chambers and gulped down a goblet full of the sweet vintage as he recalled using the vampire Lestat's harbinger to locate the warlock Julian. Randomly in that thought, he realized that since the medieval device had activated at that time, it was only more validation that Julian was indeed your biological father, for the compass like relic was designed to detect a witch's presence by placing their blood upon it, or the closest relation to that blood, which in that case was your blood he used that night, and if the locator began to rapidly spin, it meant they were near.

As his mind then traveled back to the present situation, Thranduil had such an object in his possession. One similar to the vampire's but more of an antique yore to the King of Mirkwood, for it had belonged to his mother, Carandolel.

He pulled the treasure, crafted from copper metal, out of a wooden cabinet that was filled with the late fiery haired elleth's things and sat down with it to prepare for his experiment.

Thranduil remembered everything now. Everything that happened from the day he entered Chateau de Lioncourt to the day he "died" there and awoke in captivity in the goblin King's realm. He also remembered everything that the warlocks Jareth and Harker had done to him. The consistent daily torture of electrical shock from Jareth's citrine ring, the same citrine ring he now bore on his own finger. The sinister spells of mind conditioning, powered by the crystal pendant Harker wore that he used upon him to make him despise all things good, even you. And even with knowing that, the Elvenking still felt what he felt and it changed nothing for him. He also remembered that all of their exhausted efforts of affliction did not take the fully anticipated effect and Jareth had become fed up, forcing Harker to repeat the process of purgatory for a second time.

Thranduil's will had been too strong to be controlled by anyone, let alone the King of the goblin realm, so it had then failed once more. That was when Jareth had an epiphany of an additional way to control the King of the woodland realm. He began spiking Thranduil's wine with his own baleful blood. Small amounts at a time so he wouldn't catch taste of it and as much of the Dorwinion vintage that Thranduil always consumed, Jareth was confident that it would work quickly and to his full expectations, but his predictions soon proved only successful to a certain point, for he still lacked any control over the Elvenking.

Thranduil had come to this speculation earlier in the day due to the derivation of his physical change from wearing Jareth's citrine, for he could smell it, the sour citrus aroma of the tainted cold liquid he believed to be flowing through his veins, escaping the cracks in his chalky white skin. The smell that he could now recall matching the flavor of Jareth's hospitable wine. Anyone could wear the ring of fire and do good with it, but when combined with pure darkness and bad blood, they would become like Jareth did upon his own rebirth....just as Thranduil now was. The unwanted blood could now be useful to the Elvenking, for he could validate it's presence and possibly learn of Jareth's whereabouts and be forewarned of his arrival, or so he believed.

Jareth would soon come for revenge and to reclaim the golden gem. He needed it for two reasons. It gave him his full power and it kept him alive. If the stone came together with the other five runes, the green emerald, the blue moonstone, the purple amethyst, the clear crystal and the pink morganite, then paired with Ashmole, the only book that contained the spell of reversal to Jareth's resurrection, the goblin King's reign of terror would finally cease. He would die and so would his vast army of demons.

Thranduil had to be certain of his presumption, so he unfolded the ancient artifact which resembled that of a blooming flower with it's eight copper petals revolving around the center stem. He then poked the tip of his finger with one of his twin swords and placed a few droplets of his blood inside the hole of a metal disc no bigger than his fingernail and placed it on a single metal hanger that extended from the center pole.

Thranduil calmly watched, for he was still patient and could wait.

His eyes widened as the petals began to slowly rotate. Within seconds, the speed rapidly increased, spinning round and round and round, creating a small breeze that caressed his face, until it came to hard stop with the prong pointing back at him. Thranduil's breaths became heavy in that moment, for it meant one of two things, or even both.

It verified that Thranduil indeed possessed the goblin King's warlock blood, but was it also detecting Jareth himself? or solely Thranduil?

In a bout of rage, the Elvenking arose and hurled the honest harbinger across the room as he roared his own truth.

"I am not you, wretched warlock!! I am the Elvenking!!"

Garrett awoke with a gasp, all alone in the dark, damp and dusty basement of Peter's cabin, chained to the bed by iron shackles that were taught around his burning wrists, the same chains and bed that he once held Haldir captive on.

"Fucking karma. Bites me in the ass every time." he groaned in pain as he pointlessly struggled to free himself, for the iron had severely weakened him by depleting his strength and powers....and even the protection mark Amara had seared into his chest.

Garrett quickly gave up, slumping over and panting heavily from his futile frenzy.

"What the hell Amara. Your protection mark took a shit." he grumbled with his face planted against the lumpy mildew coated mattress, then a soft sarcastic chuckle rolled out of him.

"Fire, dead man's blood, starvation, three deadly things to a vampire that seemingly cannot touch me, but iron...fucking IRON will be how it all ends. Peachy. Not to mention, I shouldn't have felt the electr...."

Garrett sprung to a sitting stance, his wide eyes red with defense and darting all around the room as he remembered exactly how he had ended up in his profound peril.

"Kate???!! Where are you, you demonic bitch?!"

In the blink of an eye, the platinum haired vampiress was at the foot of Garrett's bed, leering down at him with her charged up tangerine hues and a sly smile.

"My King, such a sight for sore eyes. It is good to be back."

"Jareth went and done it I see. Opened the gates of hell, for it is the only explanation as to how your previously beheaded and burnt body stands before me looking like a brand new car, but certainly not smelling like one. You need a car wash babe. Oh, and I'm not your King. Better check your fuses. They seem to be blown."

"Oh Garrett, always the comedic fool in times of trouble, or any time for that matter. Not sure what I ever saw in you. I suppose it was your King stature, but...that no longer belongs to you since the real King has returned. Oh I can't wait to see the look on slutty Selene's face when Kraven pops in on her and her mutt Michael that he greatly despises. I can only imagine it to be of something like this."

"GAHHHHHHHH!!!!!" Garrett cried out in pain from another dose of electric shock as Kate clutched his hand like a vice grip, reveling in her former mate's shaking and panting agony.

"Nope, no faulty fuses here. Now, as fun as this is, I have more places to go, people to see after I check in with King Kraven. There's quite a list of those who have wronged me, including your precious Josephine. All in due time. Won't she be in for one hell of a...shock."

The blood rage gene in Garrett's veins instantly began to boil, causing the vampire's vision to be colored of murderous red as flimsy flames involuntarily ignited over his palms which sent Kate into a laughing fit.

"Ooooh would you look at that. You popped a woody without any wood. Is that all you've got big boy?? I've seen much bigger fires, such as on the Elvenking that you made me ravish. Probably why Josephine chose him over you." Kate mocked and then gave a single puff of air to each of his hands, dousing the flames.

Garrett lunged at her, growling with fangs dripping of venom, only to be yanked back by his short leash.

"I'll kill you! I'll fucking rip you apart, limb by limb, saving your hideous head for last so you can watch!"

"My my, seems I struck a nerve named Josephine. She don't even want you. Get a clue, Scooby Doo. And...you can't kill what's already dead, not this kind of dead anyways. An added perk to the one and only spell of life in that book. No wonder all desire it. I must be going now. Stay here and rot from starvation. You wanted to die and now you shall."

"You stay away from her!!!! I swear I'll....."

Kate locked her hands on Garrett's, packing another punch of juice through his incapacitated body, getting off on the aggressive affliction as every inch of his flesh vigorously shook.

"Or you'll what??" she snarled against his tightly pursed lips, prolonging the current as she laid over his leg, grinding her hips into the vibration until she burst into climax. "Oh...OH!! Fuckkk...yessss!!! Ahhh, ahhh, ahhhhhhhhhh mmmmm!!"

Kate then released the extremely debilitated Garrett whom very quickly passed out as he mumbled your name.

"Night night, don't let the coffin bugs bite." she whispered into his ear and then vanished.

You swayed up to grinning Legolas, hands on your hips, raised brow and a sly smirk, then looked him up and down with a smile.

"Howdy stranger." you jested, then threw your arms around his neck, deeply inhaling his dearly missed minty leaf scent from his silky golden strands.

As you and the Prince of Mirkwood reunited in the emotional embrace, excruciating pain shot through your arms, causing you to break free and desperately clutch your upper arms.

"Ahhh, owww! shit!!!" you gasped and panted as you jumped up and down to try and alleviate the sharp sting by shaking it off, which it then quickly began to dissipate. "What the fuck was that??"

"Josie!? What has happened? Are you alright??" Legolas frantically asked as he balanced you by your shoulders.

"I...I believe so..but..I...I don't know what....it felt like I was being freaking electrocuted!"

The blonde elf tilted his head and stared off into the distance with a gaze of concern.

"I think we should go inside." he advised.

He placed his arm around you as if it were a shielding wing, then guided you into the castle where he stopped in the foyer to assess his surroundings.

"Leggy? What's wrong? Are you having another one of your precognition moments?"

"I am not certain. Something just feels....different. Also...I am not sure I am welcome here."

"Of course you are. If you are speaking of Narcisse, well, I don't even know where the hell he is and right now, he's damn lucky I don't. Come with me to see your sister. I'll fill you in on everything that's happened since you've been away."

Well, everything except for your intimacy with Stephane, for Legolas would flip his lid, not to mention, it would hurt him just as it had Haldir. And then there was Matthew De Clermont. Haldir's reaction alone was enough for you to know what Legolas' would be over the vampire's imprint, per se, on Leean. On eggshells, you would continue to walk.

Legolas greeted a very stunned, nervous and rosy cheeked Lola with a smiling head bow, in which her flushed face reminded you of her secret crush on him that she finally admitted to you after you had drug it out of her in a past inebriated conversation.

"Prince L..Leg..Legolas. I..I...you're back!" Lola beamed with her big bright blue eyes gazing at him as she smiled ear to ear.

"Yes. I....am. It is... nice... to see you once again lady Lola." Legolas politely stammered, feeling awkward over Lola's excitement of his arrival. His befuddled eyes relaxed as they traveled to yours and then he made his way to Leean.

"I umm...I hope to see you later. I will leave you both now." the giddy brunette chirped, then politely smiled through trembling lips and quickly exited to give you and the platinum haired Prince some time alone with Leean, for she noticed how Legolas still looked at you.

Leean was wide awake and squealed in delight with hearing her brother's voice. Legolas promptly rushed over to his baby sister's side and began rocking her cradle as he gave her a heart melting smile and spoke in a way that she clearly understood.

"Cin knew im would rinn- an cin sui eithel magical bright er. Cín thilivern galad shines -o a tinu in i dú aiwenor a will tul- guidance a estel in i fuin. Cín blood flows -o a highest rod. I greatest -o beasts will peng na cin, dilthen Princess -o Mirkwood." (You knew I would return for you as well magical bright one. Your white light shines of a star in the night sky and will bring guidance and hope in the darkness. Your blood flows of a highest power. The greatest of beasts will bow to you, little Princess of Mirkwood.)

Shining light or bright one was an origin of the name Leean, a reason you chose it and created it out of Thranduil's name. Her blood was of a highest power as Legolas said, with it stemming from yours and Thranduil's and with Legolas's precognitive senses, you had to wonder if the great beasts he was referring to were any in particular.

Leean cooed with excitement as both sets of moonstone eyes gazed and smiled into the other's. The sight of the love struck pair made your heart flutter like a butterfly. They had obviously missed each other more than words could express and you and Legolas had felt the same way for each other as well. It was a perfect family reunion. Well, almost.

As Legolas picked a begging Leean up and held her, he offered her some of Mirkwood's magical water while you informed him of everything from Harker to Catherine to Haldir, among other happenings...and he was far from happy, to say the least, after hearing of his guardian's forced departure. Although the two often butted heads, Haldir and Legolas would give their own life for the other.

"I will ask of Aragorn and Gimli to search for Haldir, Bard as well, but my place is here with you and my sister. It is not that I am concerned that he cannot handle a wretched warlock on his own after his dealings with the ferocious vampire Kraven, it is because...there is something in the air. Something far more wicked and worse than Harker himself. Something Haldir may not be able to overcome without aid and now he has given the emerald to you, but even that can only do so much. I hope this will make you feel more at ease."

"It does. Thank you Legolas. Bard thinks he may have gone to the city, which is not the wolf's typical hunting ground from what Stephane has told me of Harker's past."

"I still find it harrowing of what he did to Lola and her mother as a child. She really has no recollection of the event?"

"No. None that I nor Stephane are aware of. Legolas, you should know. When or...if...I return to Mirkwood, I have asked Lola to join me to care for Leean as needed. Leeann adores her as Lola does she. And well...I think Lola has taken quite a liking to you as well. The two of you seemed to have a great time together at Thanksgiving."

The perspicacious Prince slitted his eyes at you, greatly resembling his father in that moment.

"I will urge you to go no further with the idea for I have no interest in such a way for the child nor will I ever." Legolas adamantly stressed.

"She is no child? She is actually one year older than I."

"It is of no matter to me, nor should it be any matter of yours, or anyone else's of whom I choose to court. The fountain of fate could show it to me and I still will choose my own path." Legolas protested, knowing very well of how wrong he would be when his father learned that his only son was to marry the Seelie Queen. He hadn't even thought of Amara's contract of coercion until this moment and it made his skin crawl.

"Now..." he continued. "You say...if?? You..plan to remain here...permanently??"

Not wanting Legolas angry with you again, you dropped the Lola subject and moved on.

"I do not know what to do Legolas. Things have been terribly awry here since you left. There was a moment when I almost came back because I...I have missed you so and I know Leean has too, but Harker showed up and I couldn't risk it with her. You were right though. I think I knew deep down you would come back, but a part of me believed you wouldn't because of...well...what happened in the Seelie Queen's court with...."

You ceased your words when Legolas broke eye contact with you to lower his distressed moonstones to his feet.

"The vampire you love..." he whispered.

"Leggy, I'm sorry...I...I will speak of something else."

Legolas stood up and gently laid Leean in her cradle, giving her a delicate kiss upon her tiny fingers, then slowly made his way to the terrace, in which you quickly followed and leaned along side of him on the stone rail.

After an intense quiet moment of you both peering out at the descending ball of fire in the sky, simultaneously, you slowly turned to lock moonstones to moonstones with one another....and then Legolas once again confided in you of his feelings, but in more depth.

"It is I...I whom should ask for forgiveness, for breaking my promise, leaving you as I did, with no word, no goodbye. I have been trying to overcome the unbearable feelings of my heart as I know you will not, cannot, return the same love I experience for you. It is very real. I have fought for so long to retrieve the aching heart you unknowingly stole from me. I believed that if you were out of sight, you would soon be out of mind but as you had my heart, you had also become a thief of my thoughts. Many times, I...I would hear your voice in my head, calling my name as if you were there at my side, as plainly as I can...could... hear my father's. Desperately, my burning eyes would search but you were not there, for it was only my imagination. If only I were not the son of Thranduil, you could see me in the way I see you, the way I will always see you."

The pain in your heart was indescribable, matching the agony of his icy blue orbs as they fixated inside yours that were now filled with tears. He was so very vulnerable and lost.

"What can I do? I cannot bear to see you in such pain that I am the cause of. Legolas, I never meant for any of this to happen. None of this...NONE of this would be happening if..."

You sighed and turned away, aching for Thranduil and still struggling to speak of his death.

"If my father had not died." Legolas said, finishing your sentence with shame.

His guilt of knowing the truth was eating him alive. From the moment Thranduil had ordered him to bring you and Leean to him, claiming he had returned to his true self, the one that loved you more than his own life, Legolas knew it was a lie and now he was more conflicted than ever over doing so and telling you he was alive like Thranduil had given him permission to do. It was merely a ploy to get you to return freely and Legolas was not alright with deceiving you, especially if his other speculation were true. That his father was planning to take Leeanduil from you. Seeing the pain you were in now, Legolas could not bear it either and he knew it would be nothing compared to the suffering you would endure from the new and less improved Elvenking himself. In that moment, he had decided you should not know, not until his father could somehow be healed. If it meant facing his father's wrath for defying him and possibly losing you over concealing the truth, they were risks Legolas would take to ensure both your safety and well being as well as Leean's.

"I deeply apologize Josie. This is the last thing I should have been speaking of, for my feelings are irrelevant and I too, have caused you pain in doing so. It was selfish of me. There are far more pressing matters at hand regarding why I have come."

You wiped your tears, sniffling as you turned back around. "You..you mean that man I healed...Boromir? After I healed him, I had a moment to speak to him before I came to find you. He claims he has important information for me but I felt he should rest first and I told him we could speak over dinner this evening. Legolas, do you know what this is about?"

"I do, yes. I do believe though, Boromir should be the one to tell you."

"Ok...but...Aragorn said he is from Gondor. What could be so important for him to travel all this way? and...how..how did you come across him?"

Legolas knew he couldn't tell you about all the happenings regarding goblin town, so he chose to paraphrase it with a partial truth.

"As you know, Boromir was searching for you, so he was on his way to Mirkwood where he believed you to be and when we learned his reasoning, we accompanied him here."

"I see. God Leggy, so much is happening, I cannot focus anymore on which way to go. With that said, I really should try to find Narcisse. As mad as I am at him, he's in a bad way and we all know nothing good ever comes out of a pissed off warlock, especially him."

"What has him on a war path this time? Enough so to banish Haldir?"

"It's just everything. A lot of his men have been killed by Harker as you know and his brother was badly hurt too, then there's Catherine that he's dealing with."

"That does not have anything to do with Haldir. I should suspect it is out of his jealous tendencies regarding you?"

"It...it doesn't even matter, the reason that is. Would you like to stay with Leean for awhile so I can take care of some things? I would like to check on Bash too. Maybe that's where Stephane went."

Legolas knew you weren't telling him everything, but...the same could be said for him, so he let it go.

"You know you do not need to ask my la...Josie. I will be here when you return."

"Pinky promise?" you giggled with a grin.

"This again." Legolas chuckled. "As you wish."

You both raised your hands and hooked your pinky fingers together, then Legolas did something different this time. He brought his thumb forward, gesturing for you to do the same, so you then pushed your thumb into his.

"There. The deal is sealed."

You laughed and then gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you soon. Oh, and Leggy, would you mind changing Leean? She smells stinky. Thanks Legolas!!"

Legolas's eyes bulged and he gulped as you exited.

"Wait...what??"

You chuckled as you rounded the corner and headed to the dining hall where you would ask Lola to go assist the pressed Prince with the tousled task that he had most likely never encountered in his entire three thousand years, for you knew he was probably still standing there in shock, staring down at Leean with gagging eyes.

Your thoughts then once again helped themselves to that of the vampire, King Garrett Lee. You felt like you were lost in space, not knowing what to do in regards to locating him, not knowing if he was alright and it pissed you off even more because he should have never left in the first place. You fell down a fucking hole in the dark forest trying to find him and when you found him, he was going to know just how damn mad you were. But for now, you had to handle things where you were and hope that Amara would possibly come to you. She had to have been aware of your presence. You couldn't just take off again on your own after what happened the first time...at least you shouldn't....so it didn't mean you wouldn't at some point.

After meeting with Lola, she confirmed your theory of Narcisse's whereabouts. He was with his brother Bash, so off you went to hopefully clear the air with the wayward warlock.

Upon knocking on Sebastian's door, there was no answer and all was quiet. In concern, you slowly opened the door to find no sight of Stephane and Bash asleep on the bed.

"B..Bash?" you quietly said which startled the recovering warlock in to a panting awakening.

"I..I'm sorry. It's alright Bash. It's just me. I was looking for Narcisse and was told he was here. I also wanted to see how you were feeling."

Bash slowly worked himself up into a sitting position, cringing in the process as he held his bandaged stomach.

"You're still sore? I'm sorry, I tried my best. You were severely wounded."

"No...no Josie...I mean, yes, it somewhat still stings but it's manageable. Thank you...for all that you did. I surely would be six feet under if it were not for you."

You smiled, unable to not stare at his blazing blue eyes that reminded you so much of Narcisse's. Stephane and Sebastian shared so many similar physical features, their build, the dark hair, their smile and the obvious eyes, but they were far from twins, for Stephane already had one of those, Darken Rahl he went by, whom was deceased and Bash was the little brother of the trio.

"You are very welcome. You should be good as new come morning. Pain around the wound seems to be a temporary side effect. When your brother was similarly injured in the city from that fight, he too suffered some mild discomfort for at least a day after I healed him, although the weapon used upon him was not soaked in wolfsbane like it was for you. I...I should have used the pendant for you since it does the trick, lickity split but my irrational instincts told me to do it myself in the heat of the moment. Thinking straight under extreme pressure is not one of my greater strengths...and this whole healing thing is still quite new to me and don't get me started about my flying mishap."

Bash chuckled as he recalled involuntary and inebriated flying frenzy that Narcisse had to save you from.

"Yes, I heard you became ill yourself from touching me. I am sorry you suffered and am very glad to see you have recovered. What matters is you saved me and for that, I will forever be in your debt my lady.

"Just don't get hurt again and I'll be satisfied. So, do you know where Narcisse is?"

"He went to prepare me something to eat." Bash informed as he made his way to stand and find a shirt to cover his bareness.

"Is that not why he has servants?"

"It is but my brother does have a good heart, believe it or not."

"I..I know he does and it's obvious he cares deeply for you if he is making it himself." you giggled. "Here, why don't you let me help too." you offered, noticing Bash was a bit winded from standing as he leaned on the bed post.

You picked up a shirt that was laying on a chair and brought it to him, then held out the sleeve to help him slide it on. His eyes followed you as his brows furrowed.

"What are you doing?"

"I am helping you to dress. You can hardly stand as it is and honestly, you should not be up just yet."

"Well, if this isn't a typical sight." Stephane seethed as he sat the food tray down and walked right up to you with a piercing stare.

"You cannot make up your mind can you? Who will it be next? My son too?"

"Oh Stephane, stop it. Your paranoia is showing." you retorted with a scowl.

"Paranoia is what you call it after sharing the pleasures of your flesh with me in my bed and then I come to find you the next day in a lip lock with the elven Marchwarden? The same sprite you begged me to be kind to in which I complied because I would have done anything for you. And now here you are with my own bare chested brother, dressing him as if he were not capable of completing such a task himself."

Bash slowly sat down with a slight clearing of his throat and continued to awkwardly button his shirt while seemingly now being invisible to you and his brother.

"You really are too much, you know that? YOU held your compliance for what, not even a week and now you have forced Haldir to leave, knowing Harker is out there using your lands to hunt upon!"

"Please! You speak as if he is not a big boy elf of masterful skills, agility and stealth."

"He may be immortal but he is not invincible! While you, well you don't even want to know what I think you are right now!"

"Oh do tell Josephine, what you think of the man you made passionate love to only 24 hours ago and then continue to tell me why I am not justified in my response to your frolicking with an elf under MY roof."

"Well I certainly wouldn't call you a man!" you irrationally snapped, just as you had explained to Bash only moments ago about your tendencies to not react well under pressure. Your words stung Stephane and you instantly regretted them, for you knew he was right. He was validated for his anger and his pain. You should have been explaining what happened and apologizing, but instead, you played the victim. As justified as Narcisse was, he was not justified in sending Haldir away.

"Well..." he lamented. "I should have seen it all along. You told me once that I scared you, that you don't trust me. Do you remember that? I certainly do. It has long since been etched in my mind. And I told you that I would never hurt you, that I would protect you. Do you remember what you said to me after that? You asked me who was going to protect you from me. It would seem you see me as nothing but a monster. Does that quite sum it up?"

"No...no of course not. I'm sorry ok? I say stupid things, AS do you when I'm angry. Those things, yes I remember saying them...but I didn't know you yet just as you blatantly told me I didn't. I don't feel that way now and...I didn't mean to say you were less than a man. And that kiss you saw with Haldir...it meant nothing."

"Maybe stupid, naive, and gullible would have been a better choice of words for what you think of me then? I mean, were you not also just go out risking your life in the dangers of the dark forest all alone with not one thought of anyone else, just to find that filthy bloodsucker you love when you have a target on your back?? And who was there to protect you, to save you from yourself?? That would be me. And yet, you STILL wanted Haldir to care for you when I returned with you in my arms so do not stand here and insult my intelligence by telling me that kiss meant nothing when I know of your history with Haldir... or that Garrett is not the one who truly holds your heart over all of us. You could have used the extra protection and safety my love would have offered but it was never good enough. It never will be."

"So you go ahead. You run back to the one who always breaks his promises and leaves you, the one you cried your eyes out over when you thought he was dead, the one Haldir and I both caught you kissing, the dangerous vampire who tried to kill your beloved Thranduil and who ripped out my guard's throat before your very foolish eyes. My eyes have been foolish too, but no more."

Narcisse turned to leave, until your words ceased his steps.

"Your guards were going to rape me and kill me and your son!" you protested as tears now ran down your face. "You speak of others as dangerous as if you are not a dangerous man yourself."

He then spun around and spoke most vehemently.

"Ahhh, a hypocrite I suppose I am as well. You have many truths to face and here's a harsh one for you little girl. The world's a dangerous place! And one day you will wish you had me to protect you from it."

Off Narcisse stormed, slamming the door behind him as you slid down into a chair and cried into your hands.

"I...I am sorry Josie. I did not mean to cause you any trouble with my brother." Bash bemoaned.

"No.." you sniffled and angrily wiped your tears. "It is not your fault. Narcisse...he..he just misunderstood...again..and he's too damn stubborn to see it."

"Forgive me for asking, and please, tell me to piss off if I am overstepping...but...what is it that you feel for my brother? I...I know him quite well and in all of my years, I have never seen him like this...in love that is. Do you...feel the same way for him or is it the vampire you love as he insinuated?"

You have not even admitted to yourself what you felt for Garrett so you certainly were not going to tell Stephane's own brother of your feelings.

"I...I umm...well....piss off." you snapped in frustration and then stormed out too.

Bash sighed sat down to eat when he heard a commotion of crows outside of his balcony door. It was nothing to be of concern over, for crows were a normal visitor there, but something felt off to the intuitive warlock.

He slipped on a jacket, for the December breeze was quite crisp, and when he got to the doors, he could see something ominous through the window panes. Dozens of dead blackbirds laid scattered about the stone terrace floor. As he then walked outside, he could feel it. The evil....for he had once been up, close and personal with it only days ago.

"He is near."

#lee pace #king thranduil #thranduil and josie #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil #the elvenking #fantasies #fairytales #magic #love stories #dark fiction #dark fairytales #dark stories #witches #warlocks #vampires #elves #garrett twilight #vampire fanfiction #legolas greenleaf #orlando bloom #anna popplewell #torrance coombs #craig parker #lord narcisse #stephane narcisse

[qqueenofhades]

So I think it's a safe assumption that Ivan knew from the beginning about the plan to put Alina in the collar and for the Darkling to claim her power. It's something that he, as the Darkling's second in command, would probably have to know and was involved with planning in the first place. It wasn't just sprung on him as soon as they got there. We also know that he Does Not Like her and think she's a spoiled, sheltered, arrogant little brat and just generally annoyed with her Heterosexual Bullshit. We can safely say that he knew about and supported the Darkling taking her power because she wasn't able to do what needed to be done with it herself, and that she would never go along with his true plans. Whether Ivan knows that the Darkling is like five hundred years old and was the one who created the Fold is up for debate (though I'm of the opinion that he figured it out himself and that the Darkling is well aware Ivan knows his secret).

That brings up the question of Fedyor. How much did he know? How much DOES he know now? Clearly he doesn't realize a huge amount about the stag and the plan to give Alina an amplifier, just because he instantly assumes Ivan will be coming with him to go after Nina and doesn't know what else the Darkling needs Ivan for. Does he even know that Morozov's stag is real? Does he know what happened to Alina after the fete? How much has Ivan and the Darkling told him about everything, and how (and when) does he eventually find out that the Darkling has taken Alina's power via the stag and gone into the Fold?

After that, of course, what does he think about everything and what is his opinion of what Ivan and the Darkling have done? I imagine he's pretty close to Alina - he acts plenty familiar with her and Genya and is shown to be good friends with Nadia as well, and would definitely care about what happened to her. I'm trying to remember exactly what the chronology of the show is and what happens when, but he's sent off after Nina before the others go after Alina, and he knows she's run away, right? There's no way he would just be okay with them locking a collar of bone around her neck and calling it good. No way he'd be okay with them stealing her power and controlling her no matter what their intentions are. Like, he's absolutely be able to see where they're coming from and understand why they're doing it and why Ivan has the opinion of Alina that he does, but Fedyor would completely disagree with it. What's it like for him knowing what they've done, and what Ivan's part in all of it was?

Welp. This is exactly what I'm exploring right now in We Could Stay Like This Forever, where Ivan still doesn't see anything fundamentally wrong with what happened while Fedyor is absolutely horrified. I think it's clear in s1 that Aleksandr tolerates Fedyor for Ivan's sake, but doesn't really trust or respect him, and definitely doesn't let him into his plans at the same level as he does with Ivan.

As of now, Fedyor and Ivan haven't seen each other in canon since 1x06, and we don't know if they're reunited in s2, offscreen, prior to any planned appearances in s3. (Please please I need this.) So anything after that is something that they haven't talked about or been in person to explain, though both of them might have heard rumors. We also know that prior to Simon and Julian's scheduling conflicts, this was basically what the showrunners planned to do with them: two lovers caught on different sides of the Grisha civil war, with Ivan remaining loyal to the Darkling and Fedyor joining Alina (as also happens in book 2, though they're not lovers there and have no relationship that we know of). I'm pretty sure that this would have involved one or both of them dying (as again, happens in Siege and Storm), so if they got saved by said scheduling snafus and we now get to explore their lives/story in a post-Darkling/war context, it depends on how much exploration we get of their feelings on what all went down. We might just move onto the next adventure and not necessarily focus as much on that, though I do imagine it has to come up. I would also love some scenes that are just about them, since they have thus far just appeared in context with other characters.

Anyway, yes: since we're not likely to get this in canon, or at least certainly not to the detail that I want, that's what I am exploring in the fic, and seeing how they deal with loving each other so much but being fundamentally at odds and angry with each other in a way they never have been before, and how that shapes them and their relationship going forward. So yes.

#orestes-hungry-and-pylades-sober #ask #fivan #sab spoilers

[newx-menfan]

*I KNOW someone is gonna call me out for mentioning the time Hazmat calling Laura a “Hussy”…since it was mainly because Reptil was more or less putting it into her head that Laura was into Ken to sow discord…

While I do LIKE AA and don’t think it was bad friendships for Laura by any means…it does really irritate me that writers go on and on about the NXM judging Laura and being mean to her…when Laura had just as many disagreements with AA members too!

While I like Hazmat- it definitely WASN’T a nice thing of her to say and I fail to see why Surge gets raked over the coals for treating Laura poorly…but not Hazmat.

I have already joked about Finesse before- and while it was obvious Finesse regretted what she did at the end and Jeanne has VERY limited social and emotional awareness…I just don’t see how that is ANY different than Julian blowing up at Laura because he felt hurt by her apathy and rejection and was going through a hard time with the loss of his hands….

Juston keeping the Sentinel and lashing out ANY time someone called him out because it made them uncomfortable…just kind of sucked.

As for ANXM….who was Laura REALLY friends with in that book other than Teen Jean?

Scott was a close friend…until he decided to go off with Corsair…Bobby couldn’t even be bothered to remember her name…. I don’t remember Laura interacting with Hank really at all…and Angel just treated her like shit the whole time they were in a relationship….

As much shit as Hellion gets- at least when Laura was fatally wounded by Nimrod, he tried to save her! It was the SAME with the Collector- while Julian was upset about Laura giving him the cold shoulder…he still sprung into action when she was dying in space! Warren was too busy angsting about his man pain and putting Laura down for self harming to care that the Blob had just beat her to a pulp 😒.

As for Cessily, Josh, AND Sooraya….when we’re they EVER bad friends to Laura??!

The ONLY thing Dust EVER did was call her and the Avengers/AA out on holding mutants against their will- which was 100% fair and reasonable!

Other than Jubilee- who has really EVER been as good a friends to Laura as the NXM were?!!

I know I have complained about this before but the revisionist history just drives me up a freaking wall…

#new xmen #new x men #x men #Marvel #x23 #x 23 #laura x 23 #Laura Kinney #academy x #new x men academy x #all new x men #avengers academy

[lunastarhawk]

Can I offer some Julian x (f) OC smut in these trying times?

Probably will show up in Tides of Memories in the next chapter or the one after, but really I had a hankering for Juleia being a bit goofy, a bit fluffy, loving and very sexy.

3660 words. 18+ only.

The Sun in her Eyes

“A little higher!”

A moment’s pause. Then, “Here?”

“No, no. To the left a bit!”

Altheia leaned back on one hand, legs stretched out and one crossed over the other on the deck of the small boat. She held the other hand up to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked up towards the top of the mast.

Or rather, at Julian. He’d climbed up to tighten a knot that had come loose at the very top of the sail. The boat was small enough to only need a single sail that could be hoisted by a rope, and probably didn’t need for a man to shimmy up the mast.

But, like a cat chasing a squirrel up a tree, as soon as Altheia had pointed it out to him Julian had sprung up, reaching with long arms to grab the ropes above as his boots found purchase on ropes and pulleys, and in a few bounds he was at the top. Now, he clung to the mast with his strong thighs, side-on to her so that she could see the muscles, long and lean, flexed enough that there was a furrow along the middle, rounded and pushing at his tight trousers, his knees bent so he could twist a rope around his ankle and catch his boot heels on it like a stirrup.

One leg was bent slightly higher than the other, presenting the gentle crescent of his backside and the curve of his lower back, his shirt slightly untucked from his sash.

“Are you sure?”

His voice drew her gaze back to his eyes and the frown drawing his brows together as he reached across to the sail.

“Yes, I can see it from here!” she called, holding back a grin. “You need to reach a little further.”

She saw his lips move as he muttered to himself, and with one hand hooked around the mast, his thighs gripping tighter, he leaned forward. Altheia tilted her head a little as Julian’s loose shirt, with not one single button and only barely tucked into his waist sash, hung open, fluttering in the sea breeze, displaying the pale expanse of his broad chest, a light sheen of sweat and glimmering hairs. He stretched out his free arm towards the ropes hanging down from the billowing open sail, and with his sleeve rolled up she couldn't help but be drawn to the movements of sinuous muscle and flexed tendons as long fingers caught hold of a loose rope.

"This one?"

He looked down then, and his mess of auburn curls were wild as they were tossed in the sea breeze, coppers and golds and the occasional silver, set aflame by the sun's rays. The extra stretch had pulled more of his shirt out from his waistband, and the sun caught the darker hairs leading down his flat stomach.

It was an effort then to drag her gaze back to his eyes. Still, she smiled and replied,

"Yes, that's the one."

"Oh this isn't a loose knot, darling, it's for…" The crease of Julian's forehead lightened and one eyebrow arched as the penny began to drop. "You knew that, didn't you?"

Altheia smiled sweetly and leaned back on both hands, arching her back a little for Julian's benefit and drinking in the view for a moment longer.

"Did I?"

There really hadn't been a need for Julian to climb up the mast for an imaginary loose knot, except to satisfy Altheia's desire to look at him in all his lithe, long-limbed, wind-swept and sun-kissed beauty.

“Am I nothing but an object of desire to you?” he called, acting affronted, but the arch of his eyebrow, twitch of his lips and the rosy flush blooming on his cheeks spoke otherwise.

“It’s your own fault for being so obscenely handsome, you know," she called back with a grin. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Evidently not minding one little bit and deciding to play up to it, Julian twisted at the waist a little and grabbed the rope a little higher so that his forearm flexed and his bicep rounded visibly under the light fabric of his shirt sleeve. A feline arch of his back lengthened his torso and pushed out his chest so very little of his pecs was left to the imagination.

Altheia laughed at how silly he was, before biting her lip to hold it back. With a final flourish, Julian let go of the mast so he was held only by his thighs and boots caught in ropes, put the back of his hand to his forehead and tossed his head back, fiery curls whipping wildly in the breeze as he affected a half-swoon and lamented,

“I’m nothing but chest, arms and thighs to you, am I?”

She couldn’t hold back her laugh anymore, but was beginning to worry that Julian might get carried away with his theatrics and fall. Still, she couldn’t help but continue playing along.

“Oh I don’t know,” she called. “Your hands are nice, too.”

Julian’s flush deepened, but he took his hand from his forehead to hold it out to her.

“This hand, you say?”

“That’s one of them, yes,” she replied, and then laughed when he wiggled his fingers at her. Then she raised an eyebrow and bit her lip before adding, “And I quite like your cock, too.”

Flustered, Julian splutter-laughed, but recovered quickly with that broad, filthy smirk of his that Altheia adored, as he swung himself around until somehow he was hanging with just one hand around the mast, one foot caught in a taut rope, and presenting his entire front to her so he could run his hand down his torso to his narrow hip, and extend long fingers down towards the swell between his legs.

“This cock, you say?”

Altheia threw her head back with laughter. “Yes, that one! Get down here before you fall.”

Julian grinned, blew her a kiss, and half slid, half bounded down the mast, and as soon as his boots touched the deck he pounced on her, pushing her to her back and laying over her as she squealed with laughter.

“You’re ridiculous, do you know that?” she said fondly, her hands moving to the back of his shoulders, giggling as Julian’s nose and lips nuzzled her neck under her ear.

He mumbled something she couldn't make out but it wasn't important, because the movements of his lips became kisses, softly brushing her neck, the light puffs of his breath making the hairs on the back of her neck rise up and send a beautiful shiver down her spine. The weight of his firm body over hers stirred that desire in her that it always did, held by his forearms beside her head on the deck, one hand under her head and threading long fingers into her hair.

Altheia bent her knees, her booted feet flat on the deck, and Julian shifted so he knelt between her legs. She curled her hand around the back of his neck, pressing her fingertips into the soft hairs at his nape, feeling that same shiver run down his spine as he had sent down hers, and she delighted in it. The kisses on her neck became firmer, his lips vibrated with quiet hums, and they travelled up to her jaw, his nose pressing into her cheek.

At the same time, Altheia’s hands slipped down Julian’s long neck to his chest, and her breathy sound of pleasure came as her palms lay on his firm pecs and her fingers spread through the hair there, still sending that spark of delight through her as if she’d never touched him before. She moved her hands up over the rise and fall of the muscles of his broad shoulders, under his shirt collar, and then on just one side, she pulled the shirt down just to his bicep, and now with the collar gone she could see the full length of his swan-like neck.

Julian understood her intent, and let out the faintest whimper of anticipation as his lips skated over hers, the tip of his tongue touching her bottom lip. Altheia's hands now moved up into his wild curls, threading her fingers through russet waves that were coarse from the salt of the sea spray in the air. A light twist of those locks was enough to tug against his scalp, and he raised his head to look at her with eyes the colour of the ocean in a winter's dusk. A light scrape of her fingernails, another gentle tug, and his head was tilting back, neck arching, ligaments and tendons taut, and he sighed into a groan as she pressed her lips beside his Adam's apple, a kiss followed by a scrape of her teeth. His arms trembled and his breaths shuddered as they carried whispers that had lost their words, slightly louder and then a little louder still as her attentions moved down his porcelain throat to freckled shoulder, nipping hard enough to sting and sucking flesh between teeth hard enough to make him hiss as she left her mark.

The sounds he made, so close to her ear - the erratic puffs of breath, the quivering whines, the whispers, the soft groans - as Altheia explored every one of the most sensitive parts of his neck and shoulder with lips, tongue and teeth, stirred that need inside her, and she raised her hips to press against him, hearing his breath hitch - he was already hard and straining against his trousers.

When she was sure she’d attended to each of Julian’s favourite spots, she tightened the grip of her fingers in his hair again, pulling him to face her, looked at his smokey eyes with lids now drooping heavily, and she slid her palms to his smooth, hollow cheeks so she could pull him those few inches to meet his parted lips with hers.

Julian groaned in a long, deep vibration against Altheia's lips, and she held his hips tight between her thighs as she pulled up to grind against him. His breaths came quicker, more erratic, and his tongue sought hers fervently. Altheia spoke his name into his mouth, her fingers pushing into his thick hair again.

She pulled back then to look at him, but the boat must have shifted heading slightly, because the sun was now in her eyes and she had to squint against it as she gave a sultry smile.

"Are you going to fuck me, Julian? In the open, on the deck of a boat in the harbour in full daylight?"

Julian's eyes narrowed playfully as one side of his mouth raised in a half smile.

"That was the plan, Alteya..." And that pronunciation of her name with his accent elicited exactly the reaction he wanted - a light gasp and a needy roll of her hips. He leaned down and pressed his cheek against hers, waves of hair brushing her face, and murmured close to her ear, "if you'll let me."

"That was the plan," Altheia smiled, but the sun in her eyes was too much. "Can we move around, though? The sun's right in my eyes here."

Julian's eyebrow arched as he grinned. "That so? Well we can't have that, can we?"

He leaned over her and stretched back to where their coats were bundled with her hat on top. When he settled back again, he dropped Altheia's hat down over her forehead and covering her eyes.

"There we are," he declared, "much better!"

Altheia laughed. "True, it is! But I can't see you like this."

She raised her hand to lift up the hat, but Julian caught her wrist, and she gasped.

“Julian, I really can’t see,” she said with a laugh, because apart from the tiniest sliver of light, Julian had positioned the hat to cover her eyes completely.

“Mmm. No need to worry about the sun in your eyes now, though.”

Altheia’s breath caught in her throat - she recognised that low purr of his. The hand that held her wrist brought it to his lips. Tiny pecks of kisses ran down her veins to her palm, and then her hand was turned, and his lips met the back of it.

She jumped slightly when his other hand came to rest on her waist, and suddenly she realised what he was doing. Her body tensed with anticipation.

“I must look ridiculous,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“Sshh.”

Altheia gave the slightest whimper at the soft whisper. Julian was up on his knees between her legs, and he ran his hand from her waist down to her thigh with a squeeze. His hand slid then under the back of her knee and raised her leg to rest over his hip.

“It’s a curious thing,” Julian said, his tone conversational as he leaned forward, one arm now taking his weight beside Altheia, the fingers of the other hand fiddling with her shirt buttons. “If a person loses their vision, the other senses try to compensate. Did you know that?”

“No, I…”

Her voice was cut short with a shuddering breath and a twitch of her body as Julian’s lips were suddenly on her chest. Kisses travelled up to her collar bone, and his nose pressed against her throat up to her chin, where he left another kiss before pulling back.

“Especially touch, would you believe?”

“Who would have thought?” she murmured, her body tense and trembling.

“Mmhmm.” One hand slid into her shirt then, brushing over her breast and making her inhale sharply. “And there are so very many ways to touch, Alteya.”

She whispered his name, but it sounded distant, even to her. Julian’s voice was a low, husky purr, as he took to showing her all the ways and places he could touch. Her skin began to tingle in anticipation, not knowing where the next kiss or caress or lick or nip would land. Her own hands found purchase wherever they could, be it his hair, his shirt, his bicep or his hands, anywhere, until he moved out of reach.

When he bent to kiss her cheeks, the brush of his open shirt over her bare chest sent shivers through her, and she arched her back to press her breasts against his pecs, and her skin was so sensitive she was sure she could feel the soft brush of each individual hair. Another purr in her ear as he kissed her jaw, the stroke of his hair on her cheek and nose, and her lungs filled with his scent; coarse sea salt in his hair, coffee and soap and the faintest hint of rum at his jaw and neck, clean cotton of his shirt, musk at his shoulder.

She pressed her lips where he would allow her, and with a flick of her tongue tasted the salt of his sweat. When he stroked her lips with his thumb she could smell the hemp of the rope on his fingers, and the tar from the mast when she nuzzled his palm.

Beneath her, the boat rocked gently with each wave, all around she could hear those waves lapping up against the sides of the hull. Above, the masts creaked, the sails fluttered, and the occasional seagull called. Somewhere far away, a ship’s bell sang into the wind, distorted by the distance. And through all that, she could hear every part of Julian’s lips, every sigh, the quite hum of satisfaction with one hand on her breast, the other on the thigh he still held over his hip.

He was right. Gradually, he raised up every one of her senses, and she handed herself over to him.

After a time, the weight of his body was lifted and her exposed chest was suddenly cold, and she whined his name; but he lay his finger over her mouth with a soft "Sshh, Alteya."

She heard the thud of his boots on the wooden deck, the rustle of fabric, and she gasped when her own boots and trousers were pulled off, too. She was very tempted to take the hat away from her eyes so she could see him, but she was lost to him and his whimsy.

And his whimsy in that moment was to tell her everything he liked the best about her; which, as it turned out, was a lot. And each affirmation was accompanied by a touch of strong hands, light fingertips, plush lips or hot tongue, and she wouldn’t know which until she felt it, until her whole body was trembling with delight, arousal and anticipation, and she squirmed either from pleasure or embarrassment in turn.

Her calves were long and elegant, he said as he ran a squeeze from her ankles to her knees; the lean muscles of her thighs he could quite happily lie between for days, he said, lingering with squeezes and kisses and nips to her inner thigh that made her whole leg twitch; the flesh of her hips and backside he craved to hold onto when they made love, he said as he demonstrated just such a hold, and her lower body writhed into his grip. For a moment, something pure - the gentle concave of the small of her back, where his hand could rest so comfortably whenever they stood together. Both hands were then on the curve of her waist, the perfect fit when he held her close. Caresses with hands, lips and tongue accompanied his verbal adoration of her breasts, and as he leaned forward to press his nose into the hollow of the base of her neck, where he said her fragrance was at its strongest, his erection passed between her legs, skimming her entrance and clit; whether intended her not she couldn’t really tell, but nonetheless her hands moved to his narrow hips to pull him to meet her, and he obliged.

Slow, long rocks of his hips dragged his erection forward and back over her, bringing forth moans and gasps as heat pooled in her core with each pass of his considerable length over her clit. Surely, he said, she didn't need for him to tell her how the sheathe of her heat made him feel, to be inside of her, a part of her, home. Was that a cliché? Probably, she said, but who doesn't love a good cliché from time to time?

But though his own need was clear, and she felt it in the tremble of his arms and the increasing weight of his breaths, he continued on. His hands ran down the lengths of her arms, the embrace of which brought him sanctuary, he said, momentarily sweet. And then his large palms covered hers, he interlocked their fingers, and leaned forward to hold them down next to her head; and he whispered in her ear how he loved the things she did with her hands, especially that, and she found his bottom lip to nip at it as she promised to do that very soon. The bow of her lips, he said, every smile and pout, smirk and bite, quiver and kiss; that, too, he added when she gave a shy laugh, and pressed his mouth over hers.

And her tongue, he murmured against her lips, when she did that other thing, and he let out something like a stammer-laugh carried on a groan when she promised to do that other thing at the same time as she did that.

The pace of the sweep of his hips increased just a little, his head catching on her entrance when she raised her own hips in time with his movements.

And though he couldn’t see her eyes now, he breathed, he could never get enough of how her gaze, like the brightest sea glass, looked on him with love and lust and adoration; how they lit up and creases radiated from them when she laughed, how they near flashed when she was angry or annoyed; and how, with just the set of her mouth and arch of one eyebrow or both, she could convey more than a hundred words.

And when her mouth curved like that, and her eyebrow arched just so, he could devour her.

The head of his erection teased at her entrance then, and his name stuttered over her tongue and her grip tightened on his hands as the movements of his hips deepened. There, he said, her voice that could make him ache; a low and velvety purr, a light lilt of humour, or crystal sharp with annoyance.

But when she sighed his name - Like this, Julian? - Yes, like that, just like that - it was a siren song.

And when she said she loved him...

His words left him then, as she cast her protection spell and he pushed inside her, held one leg over his hip with one hand, held his weight with the other, burying his lips and nose into the curve between her neck and shoulder. The hat was pushed from Altheia’s forehead but it didn’t matter, because her whole self was his, her eyes were closed to everything and she heard only the voice that, without a single word, spoke his love and desire and devotion. And she returned it, her lips close to his ear, her wordless affirmations rewarded with longer, deeper strokes, every inch of their torsos pressing together, her palms seeking every roll of every muscle in his broad back.

And she did speak his name, once, fragmented and low, as she soared over her peak.

And he spoke her name, once, gasping and high, as he went with her, pulsing into her so deeply that she ached.

She held his body, sweating and trembling and weak, against hers when he fell. Their eyes met, sea-green and storm-grey, their smiles touched.

And then Altheia laughed, because when Julian moved off of her, the sun was in her eyes again.

#the arcana game #the arcana fanfic #julian devorak #julian devorak fanfic #julian devorak x oc #julian smut #juleia

[groundbreakingdot872]

No but I'm quite literally the pikachu face meme rn because I've never thought about the title of S1 ep 12/13 and dotd. I think I'm going to need a moment 😵

NO WAY 💗😭

Sorry that I sprung that on you without a warning!!

It’s honestly.. insane

I’ve watched some of the producer’s commentary where they’re at Comic Con for the pre-S5 promo, and I’m pretty sure Julian admits the ending had been planned along…

I’m hesitating to believe this, since the first season was more a gambit to get viewers and wrap up the ‘gist’ of the legends through the titles/ subplots in case their attempt failed.

Even so, it’s a happy coincidence. (Or unhappy)

S1ep12 ‘To Kill the King’ with Morgana’s unlucky attempt on the King’s life, and Merlin being the one to stop her, after having eliminated everyone else.

S1ep13 ‘Morte de Arthur’ with Arthur on his deathbed, and Merlin’s on a hero journey to exchange his life instead, through magic from Old Religion.

In DoTD, the first episode starts out with the actual killshot, and the second is all about Merlin making that journey again; subconsciously tricking the viewers to think it could all work out, no consequence.

You could honestly summarize s1ep12&13 along the lines of the finale, and people would have a hard time differentiating the two.

#whether it was on purpose or not #it was all PAIN #:(( #and reads into that ‘you can’t derail destiny’ narrative either way… #joan answers! ✨ #sia tag 💗

[kiradaxx]

Kira/Dax Fic - Borne: Chapter 3

Chapter 3 is up for my Kira/Dax story, Borne on AO3!

I hope some of y'all will check it out. I'm really enjoying writing this story, and I'd love to know if anyone is actually enjoying it. If you do check it out, please leave a comment!

Preview:

An image of Dax sprung to holographic life from the chip, miniature in dimension but no less effective in capturing her mischievous smile. Hunch confirmed, she couldn’t stop her own smile from forming. The O’Brien’s son kicked her kidney in the next second, and some of her cheer faded as residual uterine cramping seized her lower abdomen in response to the active fetus. Brow furrowed in annoyance and rubbing at the sore muscles of her swollen belly, Kira tapped the holochip three times to send the message back to the beginning. She had missed whatever holo-Dax had said due to the painful interruption. Message restarted, Kira was able to pay closer attention this time.

“I commed Julian just now to ask if you were awake for a visit, and he told me he’d released you. Would have been nice to have heard that from you myself.” Holo-Dax winked, and Kira wondered if this woman would ever stop confusing her. Why would Dax care if Kira was delayed in remembering to check in with her? Surely she was busy in the main operations center with her duty shift. Kira had assumed she would hear from her friend at the end of the alpha shift, if at all that afternoon. Nevertheless, holo-Dax continued, none too perturbed by Kira’s apparent transgression. “I’m taking my responsibility to feed you seriously. You heard the doctor- no more forgetting to eat. I don’t know how you make it through shifts on just raktajino sometimes. But here’s your fair warning, I’m going to be on your case to get proper meals. Even more than usual. Who knows, maybe the habit will even stick.”

#kira x jadzia #kiradax #kira x dax #kira/dax #kira nerys #jadzia dax #star trek ds9 #kira/dax fanfiction #my fanfiction #my wiritng

[deathprocession]

Although that does bring up the question of wether he was partially aware throughout that entire process or just sprung into reanimation after being buried becuase. That might mean he was aware when they were doing the autopsy ❤️ Julian I am so sorry

#headcannons

[fantasneeze]

Trailer: ‘John Lennon: Murder Without a Trial’

There have been a number of eye-opening Beatles documentaries through the years, from the Beatlemania doc Eight Days a Week; a tribute to the Fab Four’s loyal secretary, Good Ol’ Freda; Martin Scorsese’s poignant George Harrison: Living in the Material World; and last but certainly not least, Peter Jackson’s recent eight-hour opus Get Back, chronicling the recording of the group’s final album, Let It Be, and subsequent demise.

Now, we have what hopes to be the definitive documentary about the aftermath of Mark David Chapman’s 1980 assassination of John Lennon outside the Dakota.  

Premiering Dec. 6 on Apple TV+, and narrated by Kiefer Sutherland, the three-part docuseries John Lennon: Murder Without a Trial features new information gleaned from FOIA requests, as well as the first on-camera interviews with a number of people surrounding the tragedy, including Richard Peterson, a taxi driver/witness to the shooting; the Dakota concierge who desperately tried to save Lennon’s life; and Dr. Naomi Goldstein, the first psychiatrist who assessed Chapman.

“Crucially, and unusually in a case of this magnitude, Lennon’s murderer never stood trial. Consequently, a wealth of detailed argument and evidence relating to Mark David Chapman’s mental state and culpability was never publicly heard,” co-director Rob Coldstream and producer Louis Lee Ray tell Rolling Stone. “This series lays out for the first time the unseen evidence for the prosecution and the defense — using documents and firsthand testimony from those who were there. We’ve been careful to maintain an impartial approach throughout, simply laying out for the viewer the arguments that were never heard in court.”

Coldstream and Lee Ray add that they took particular pains “not to sensationalize the story” out of respect to Lennon’s surviving family, including Yoko Ono, Sean Lennon, and Julian Lennon.

“Furthermore, we’ve approached Lennon’s tragic murder not just as an event in isolation, but in the context of 1980s America, and explore the ripples the killing had across society more broadly,” they say. “What was striking is how many parallels sprung up between 1980 and the current day, from questions around mental health, the justice system, and gun control.”

#interesting #john lennon #the beatles #documentaries

[thomasmuellerfcbayern]

Ist Thomas Müller bereit für die WM? Flick: „Er war noch nie so gut vorbereitet“

Bayern-Profi Thomas Müller plagt sich schon seit Wochen mit zahlreichen Wehwehchen herum und fällt aktuell mit Hüftproblemen raus. Der 33-Jährige hat dennoch den Sprung in den deutschen WM-Kader geschafft. Obwohl der Ur-Bayern zuletzt kaum gespielt hat, ist Bundestrainer Hansi Flick überzeugt davon, dass der Offensiv-Allrounder topfit zur Weltmeisterschaft reist.

Thomas Müller hat sein letztes Spiel Ende Oktober, in der Champions League gegen den FC Barcelona absolviert. Die letzten fünf Spiele der Münchner hat der Angreifer verletzungsbedingt verpasst. Laut Julian Nagelsmann wird der FCB-Star auch beim bevorstehenden Liga-Spiel gegen den FC Schalke 04 nicht mit von der Partie sein. Damit reist der DFB-Nationalspieler ohne wirklichen Spielrhythmus zur Fußball-Weltmeisterschaft nach Katar.

Bundestrainer Hansi Flick hat kein Problem damit, dass Müller wochenlang kein Spiel bestritten hat. Kurioserweise hat der 57-Jährige betont, dass der Bayern-Profi topfit zur WM reist: „Mit Thomas sind wir in engem Austausch. Er hat einen guten Aufbau. Ich bin überzeugt davon, dass er noch nie so gut für eine WM vorbereitet war.“ Flick geht davon aus, dass Müller beim Testspiel gegen Oman wieder auf den Rasen zurückkehren wird: „Wir hoffen, dass wir ihn im Testspiel gegen Oman einsetzen können, um die nächsten Schritte zu gehen. Es ist gut, dass wir das Spiel gegen den Oman vor Ort machen können.“

#hansi flick #dfb team #thomas mueller #thomas muller

[talvenhenki]

➵ “i feel so stupid.” “don’t ever feel stupid for having a normal reaction to a situation that you couldn’t control.”

this prompt for garashir? only if it strikes your fancy!! <3

Oooh this sounds great, thank you!!

----

Julian woke with a start. His heart was hammering in his chest as the remnants of the latest nightmare slipped away. Julian breathed through gritted teeth as he got up, trying to make his way into the living room as quietly as possible. He would have a bit easier time breathing there, although he did not know why. Probably just placebo, Julian had once decided.

"My dearest?"

Julian stopped in his tracks. Garak had woken up and was already by Julian's side, rubbing his back. Tears sprung into Julian's eyes as he fought to keep his composure against the comfort that Garak was offering.

"I've got you", Garak whispered as he began to lead Julian to the sofa, "I've got you. You'll be alright."

Garak helped Julian onto the sofa before sitting down himself. Garak immediately hugged Julian, holding him as close as possible. In the safety of the embrace, Julian allowed himself to stop fighting the tears.

"A nightmare?" Garak asked softly. He was brushing his fingers through Julian's hair, knowing how it comforted him.

Julian nodded. "It was another scenario", he croaked miserably, "where someone has a bad reaction to me being...me. A freak."

"No", Garak sighed. They had been over this so many times, and yet Julian insisted on calling himself a freak. "No, my dearest, you are no such thing. You are a person whose boundaries were violated in the most horrible way. Never call yourself a freak for that."

"I know", Julian breathed, "I just...why is this still affecting me so badly, Garak? I feel so stupid, having nightmares like this nearly every night."

Garak shook his head. "My dearest", he said, "don’t you ever dare to feel stupid for having a normal reaction to a situation that you couldn’t control. You had to hide for so long. By stars, I don't think even the most hardened Klingon warrior would be able to live with such a secret."

Julian brought a hand up to his hair, tugging at it. On top of that, he was biting his lower lip to keep himself from making any noises that could signal to Garak how much he truly was hurting.

"My dearest", Garak sighed, "you're hurting yourself again."

Garak brought his hand up to cover Julian's, rubbing his knuckles. Slowly, Julian let go of his hair and allowed Garak to continue holding his hand.

"It's alright", Garak said wearily, "you don't have to pretend to be strong with me. I'll have you either way."

Closing his eyes, Julian allowed himself to fall deeper into Garak's embrace, to be loved and comforted.

#derryday #Orion replies #Julian Bashir #Elim Garak #Star Trek #DS9 #Orion's writing #Mini fic

[regissuggestion]

Something of an enterprising week this week, dears! Aliona next door has had a surfeit of turnips (which I believe our American friends might call rutabaga?), and no idea what to do with them. Detts and I set up a little production line on Wednesday evening and made lots of little Chinese turnip cakes, and have dropped some round the neighbourhood ☺️.

Next up will be the rather daunting task of cutting, blanching and freezing the ridiculous amount of kale that has sprung up from our raised bed...I must admit, I usually leave that to Dettlaff...or pay Julian to do it.

#emiel regis rohellec terzieff goddefroy #witcher rp #the witcher #emiel regis #dettlaff van der eretein #regisposting