#otp: the cloud that wanted to hold thunder

[sapphic-bombshell-vixen]

a different kind of love - amalia x penance

#the nevers #amalia true #penance adair #amalia x penance #laura donnelly #ann skelly #you look very fine #i think so too #how are you not wonderful? #it's opium my love #but it was the air #but also the cloud that wanted thunder #but was too gentle to hold it #with a hint of subtext #just gals being pals #victorian era #otp: let's just be alive for a while #a different kind of love #s2? when

[raith-way]

Ryan and Bruce

Cute 20 & Spooky 18

Thank you for the ask/prompt! I love these two, which is why I wrote for them first, and I actually managed to write something non-angsty for them!

Ryan & Bruce [otp: mutually assured destruction]

Warm Welcome [cute #20: first frost of the year]

Ryan woke up to two very unexpected surprises, and she added in the unexpected despite the obvious definition of the word surprise because of how caught off guard she was. The sweater she had fallen asleep in did nothing to ward off the chill as she emerged from unconsciousness, and she hissed as cold air hit her bare legs after swinging her blanket off of her. It’d been cold the night before, but not so cold that she’d felt the need to find a pair of pants to sleep in or even pull on a pair of socks. Now she hopped from foot to foot as she crossed the wooden floors of her bedroom, and her breath showed in a pale cloud in front of her face as she moved to the single window in her bedroom. Ice had crept across the glass while she slept, and she pressed her fingers against the edge of forming frost. She was shivering, acutely aware of the temperature since all she was wearing was the sweater and a pair of panties, but she couldn’t stop looking outside long enough to go find some more clothes.

In Banshee City, there was never any real snow. Occasional ice, yes, but not until much closer to Christmastime. She hadn’t been expecting it to get this cold, this fast. Down below, people were fully bundled up and moving quickly to get to their destinations. (The people here always moved quickly, as a safety precaution, but it seemed like the cold gave them some extra motivation to get to where they were going.) Outside, ice had formed along everything. The rough bricks of the buildings, the cracked sidewalks, and around the perimeter of her small window. Her breath puffed out against the glass, fogging it up, and she tugged her sweater sleeve down over her hand to wipe the glass. Small little circles until she could see the outside world again.

“You know.” She tensed at the sound of the voice and then instantly relaxed as she recognized it, and she turned to greet her second surprise of the morning as he continued talking. “My house keeps the internal temperature regulated. If you were there, you wouldn’t be shivering right now.”

“Bruce!” She saw his cheek twitch, under the thick scruff of a beard that he was apparently growing, just before she threw herself at him. She hadn’t been expecting him back for at least another week, possibly longer, but he was here. Arms caught her easily, swept her up into the air and pulled her in, and she locked her legs around the soft material of a padded jacket that still had cold ice starting to drip from the back of it.

“You miss me?” he asked as her arms wound around his neck. Bruce was freezing, especially against the bare parts of her skin, but she didn’t care. He’d been gone for almost a month, and she had missed him. Missed him enough to admit to it, just not to his face. So she ducked down to nuzzle under his jaw, felt the scrape of his beard against her cheek, and reached up to bury her cold fingers in his thick hair.

“I might have missed you, a little,” she whispered. He must have been wearing gloves at some point, because his hands were warm as they swept up her thighs to rest easily on her hips under her sweater. Technically, under his sweater that she had taken for herself.

“You could have missed me from the lakehouse.” His hands were warm against her back, pulling her tighter against him, and she shifted to run her cold nose against his cheek.

“And miss seeing you actually show up here? Not a chance,” she laughed. Bruce hated her apartment, hated that she had chosen to live in Gotham’s crime-filled East End, but she felt more at home here. At least, she did when Bruce was gone. The lakehouse didn’t feel like home without Bruce there.

“Will you come back with me now?” Ryan pulled back to look at him properly, and there was still a hint of a smile over his expression. Softening the line of his mouth and putting a little extra warmth in his eyes. Her hands moved to the front of his face, fingers scratching through the beard that was new and different against her skin, and she leaned forward to feel that newness against her lips.

“Only if you promise to keep this for a little bit longer,” she bargained. She tightened her thighs around him, just enough for him to feel the pressure, and felt one hand pressing solidly against the center of her back.

“Only if you promise to keep this on,” he added and used his other hand to pull on the bottom hem of the sweater she’d taken from his closet. She thought that over, the feeling of warm cotton and soft scruff against her skin, and pulled back with a smile.

“Deal.”

Here Lies [spooky #18: an ancient mausoleum, stone door crumbling]

The grass was so soft under her feet, a cushion for every step forward, but where were her shoes? Ryan never walked around outside barefoot, just in case something happened and she needed to take off running. She continued forward, and she looked up. The sky was dark, moon hanging full and swollen in the otherwise dark night, but she couldn’t see any stars. It should have been cold, but the breeze that lifted her hair from her neck was soothing. A balm against her aggravated skin, and her eyes closed as she kept moving forward. She didn’t need to have her eyes open to know where she was going. She let herself enjoy the moment. The tickle of grass against the bare bottoms of her feet, warm dew brushing against her ankles, and that rolling breeze under the starless night.

“This isn’t right,” she thought as the grass changed. The softness twisted, thickened and pushed, and her eyes stayed closed as she winced. Dead hardened grass cut against her skin, ripped at the bottoms of her feet and pulled above her ankles, but she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t go back. Had to keep pushing forward. The breeze was hot now, licking against the back of her neck like some great beast following at her heels.

Ryan opened her eyes as everything went perfectly still, perfectly quiet, and there was a door in front of her. Tall and imposing, thick stone, a darker gray even in the moonlight. One hand reached out, fingertips brushed against the center of the door, and she watched as it started to break. First, a single crack down the middle. Loud as thunder. She reached out with both hands, dug her fingers into the stone, and started to pull. Stone crumbled under her hands and landed at her feet, a fine dust to soothe the places where she was still bleeding, and she couldn’t stop. Kept pulling and tearing at the door, and when did she start screaming? Her throat burned as she screamed up at the sky, at the moon that loomed above her and slowly started to bleed red, and the stone door was crumbled into nothingness. Not even dust was left on her fingertips, and she locked her teeth together as she continued forward.

The inside of the mausoleum was cold, freezing. Her bare feet burned against the cold floor as she walked inside, and the air burrowed under her clothes to slip under her skin. This was an ancient place, colder than the deepest depths of hell, and she wanted to run. Wanted to be back in Bruce’s warm bed, with his solid arms around her and grounding her, but she couldn’t stop. She kept walking forward, always forward, and her bottom lip quivered as she looked to her right. The walls were stone, just as solid as the door had been, with names carved deep into them.

Emil Dietrich.

Her step-father always had grease on his hands, from the mechanic’s shop, and he had laughed with his entire body.

Maria Dietrich.

Her mother had a soft voice, perfect for singing lullabies and telling bedtime stories, and she had smelled like lemon and vanilla.

Harrison Dietrich.

The oldest of her younger brothers, sweet baby Harry, wanted to be an engineer. Wanted to build and create and make the world beautiful.

Bernard Dietrich.

Her littlest brother that was destined to tower over them all, fierce darling Bear, had wanted to know everything about everything. Had wanted to learn as much as he could.

Chelsea Dietrich.

Her baby sister, bubbly tenacious Chels, had been the brightest part of her life. Had come to her whenever she wanted to feel safe or needed a hand to hold.

Ryan’s fingers pulled at her hair, because she could hear them. Hear them all behind the stone, crying out. Screaming from the bullets and the fire, from the things that ripped them apart and turned them to ash. Asking where she was, why she wasn’t there with them. Hadn’t she been there with them? Torn apart, set ablaze, and locked in the darkness? Even Ryan’s screams couldn’t drown them out. Not even her apologies, for daring to keep breathing and for existing out in the light, could get them to quiet. She thought she could even hear the stone starting to shift, to break apart, as they tried to claw their way out of the darkness. She belonged with them and had left, so now they were going to join her. As the first stone cracked, allowing a small hand to slip free, Ryan stumbled away and turned to press her face against the opposite wall.

The mausoleum was filled with screams, begging questions and yelled accusations, and Ryan pushed harder against the stone wall as hands started to pull at her. Grease stained fingers around her ankles and a small hand curling around her left wrist. Her eyes opened as she was pulled back, as hands that smelled like rot and lemon circled softly around her throat, and she saw the name carved in the stone ahead of her. The name that she had pressed her face against. Thickly carved lines, stark and shining wetly in the darkness as more hands pulled her backwards. As words were whispered, asking her to stay. Telling her to stay where she belonged. Reminding her that she was never meant to leave in the first place. All she could see was that name, the only one carved on this side of the mausoleum.

Ryan Lopez.

“Ryan!”

The sound of her own name, being shouted right into her face, caused her entire body to lock up. She went completely still, senses straining and overwhelmed, and it took her a moment to realize what had happened. She’d been dreaming. The grass, the moon, the mausoleum. It had all been a dream. She was lying in Bruce’s bed, on her back with his soft sheets tangled around her ankles, and she was breathing too fast. Her entire body was pushing up against Bruce’s with every terror-filled breath, because Bruce was braced over her. Elbows sinking into the plush mattress on either side of her head, and she locked her gaze with his. The warm color of his eyes helped chase away the cold of the phantom mausoleum, and her fingers scratched against his back before flattening to push him down. She needed to feel him pressed against her, to hold her down and ground her in this moment, and she slowed her breathing to match his. To get them moving in sync. Hooked a leg around his waist and pulled every part of him against her, until she was fully compressed.

“Tell me you’ll keep me here.” Her voice was rough, she must have screamed in her sleep, and Bruce’s eyes were searching hers. Determined to find the reasoning behind her words without any context, and her legs wrapped around his as he flattened himself against her.

“Anyone that wants you, will have to go through me,” he promised her. It shouldn’t be comforting. She shouldn’t want him to stand between her and death, but she shook in relief and clawed her hands against his shoulders. Gripped the back of his hair and pulled him down.

“Don’t carve my name into stone,” she whispered against his chin. He pulled back enough to see her, for his warm breath to drift across her skin, and she’d been crying. The shifting air drifted across the wet tracks, leaving behind a lingering coldness. His eyes were analyzing, mind working through everything he knew about her, and he dropped to press his brow against hers. Pressed tight. His solid heat against her shaking softness.

“Ashes to ashes,” slipped across her lips. Ryan would never be buried. Her name wouldn’t be immortalized in stone. When she was done, she’d be ash. As she was meant to be.

“Bruce.” The hands had reached for her, pulled at her, begged her to come home to them. “Bruce.” She had wanted the darkness, still did sometimes, but she wanted this more. Wanted him more. “Bruce.”

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Bruce said against her temple. He was blanketing her now, keeping her safe and protected from the world, and she slowly started to relax. Started to come back to herself. “You’re here, with me.”

Forever Taglist: @jinxsflame @hughstheforcelou@uno-reverse-reversed @hiddenqveendom @asirensrage @ocfairygodmother @jewelswrites-ish @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle

#answered ask #autumn aesthetic starters #oc: ryan lopez #ch: bruce wayne #bruce wayne x oc #otp: mutually assured destruction #dceu

[dcbbw]

Hello, I have been going through a lot lately and would like to request OTP with SGL x Riley B where Liam takes it as a challenge to make her toes curl 😏 within a 24 hour period. How many times can he send her over the edge? Thank you for all you do to bring a smile to my face and smut to my tumblr 😂😂😂

Thank you for the ask, @umccall71! Firstly, prayers and positive vibes your way that you make through your storm unscathed and much better for it. Secondly, I cannot give you full on SGL x Riley B smut because that is coming in the DC AU series. I promise!!!

I know we discussed Liv x Max replacing your original pairing, but I think I have come up with a compromise to make us both happy.

This takes place within DC AU’s COVID Universe.

HUGE thank yous to @burnsoslow, @bbrandy2002, and @ao719 for pre-reading and helping me with the sticky part! (pun not intended)

THIS ASK IS NSFW!!

It was 6:42am, but Riley’s apartment was still dark despite it being daylight savings time. It was due to a combination of no lights being cut on and the dark clouds and heavy curtain of rain pouring from the sky. DC was experiencing an early morning thunderstorm, a common occurrence during the summer when the same weather forecast was issued day after day: hazy, hot, humid with a chance for strong storms.

But it wasn’t the rain that woke Riley up; it was Liam’s hand cupping the side of her breast. She kept her eyes closed, squeezing them even more tightly shut. She had no idea what to do, even though she had been expecting this. It was a natural next step.

The pandemic shutdown had accelerated the trajectory of what Riley had planned to be a slow-going process. What was supposed to be a 2-week shutdown was now entering month three. Three months of togetherness on a level Riley still wasn’t sure she was ready for, but it was … nice.

There were kisses: light and playful, deep and sensuous.

They had established a domestic routine that included cooking, cleaning, and laundry.

Once a week, Liam and Riley went to his apartment to empty his mailbox, check the food in the fridge, and visit with Urthula. They then went to Riley’s office so she could check the mail, upload documents for telework, and make a check deposit. From there, they went to Liam’s office so he could scan documents to clients and supervisors and check his mail. Their last stop was at the grocery store, where Liam would look up recipes and videos for ingredients needed for his daily meal planning. Riley stocked up on liquor and junk food.

At some point, Liam stopped sleeping on the sofa and began sharing the bed with Riley. They were both nervous: Riley was still skittish and didn’t want to rush into anything; her nervousness no longer stemmed from Drake; it was Liam. If Liam hurt her, she wasn’t sure what she would do.

There wasn’t enough ice cream in the world to heal the hurt that would cause.

Liam’s nervousness came from a fear of giving Riley B. the wrong impression of him and of pushing her outside her comfort zone too soon. How to let her know they could be best friends and lovers? He was willing to sit back and let her lead the show.

And now, here it was. Would she continue to deny them what was natural? Or would she let go, even if just a little bit?

She recalled the night before: They had fallen asleep on their sides, Riley the little spoon to Liam’s big one. His arms were wrapped around her waist, her hands laying on top of his. Then she had to use the bathroom; then he did. She woke up to take her thyroid medication; he woke up to make sure she did. They talked a little, Liam commenting on the strong wind that had picked up. They finally fell back asleep, and now … this.

She exhaled a deep, silent breath at the feel of his hand against her there.

She wanted more.

Behind her, Liam’s eyes were closed as he held Riley B.’s breast in his palm. It felt heavy yet soft; it was driving him mad.

He wanted to see it. See her.

He hadn’t planned on feeling up his best friend at the crack of dawn; hell, he hadn’t planned on touching her in any way she was uncomfortable with, but at some point when they had fallen back asleep before the storm came in, Riley’s tank top had ridden up. Liam’s hands had gotten tangled in soft cotton; in extracting himself, he found himself cupping the side of her breast.

And now he wanted more.

But he needed to know she wanted it also.

“Riley B.?” his voice rumbled in her ear.

She moaned softly as she arched her back into his chest. “More,” she pleaded.

Liam’s eyes flew open. “Are … are you sure?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes. But no sex, Liam!”

“Whatever you want, Riley B. I just want to make you happy.”

Liam kissed her shoulder before rolling her onto her back. He angled his body over hers as he searched her eyes before his lips tentatively brushed against hers. Her tongue swiped his lower lip before he pulled it into his mouth. Their tongues tangled slowly at first; this was no ordinary kiss. The promise of more that accompanied their usual kisses was being replaced with the certainty of more. Liam’s hands impatiently pulled at the sides and hem of Riley’s sleep shirt.

A brilliant flash of lightning lit up the room as they separated so the shirt could be lifted away from her body. Her breasts lay bare before him, the heavy globes of flesh flashing golden in the brief illumination. Her nipples were a dark chocolate brown, erect and begging to be suckled.

He shimmied out of his pajama pants; his erect manhood sprang forth. Riley’s eyes grew wide; her center pooled.

She gripped Liam’s shoulders as she pulled him back down to continue the kiss.

Their first morning breath kiss. It was delicious.

Thunder rumbled in the sky as Liam’s mouth moved down Riley’s body. He kissed her jawline, her nearly invisible surgical scar. He reached her breasts. He gazed at them in awe, memorizing their details: Each breast had a prominent vein running through it. Her areolas were dotted with moles. He hefted them in his hands; one had a chicken pox scar on its underside.

His thumbs flicked across her nipples; the brush of his skin against hers elicited a low moan from Riley.

Riley watched him as the fingers of one hand fisted in Liam’s dark hair; the other slowly stroked along his very erect, very impressive length. Her hips rolled against his hand as she softly moaned between heavy breaths.

Liam’s lips were firmly attached to Riley B.’s nipple, his tongue circling, licking, and flickering across her puckered flesh. He let out a shaky breath when he released her, only to have the length of his tongue lick her breast from underside to nipple.

The wetness of his tongue against the warmth of Riley’s skin caused an eruption of goosebumps to break out across her creamy skin.

“Oh, God … Liam!” Riley moaned as her hands tugged at his locks.

His eyes lifted to take in her lust-infused features as he resumed his suckling. “Hmmm?”

One hand held her breast as the other began drifting down her curves; he reached her center. His cock throbbed as it leaked pre-cum onto vanilla scented sheets. He placed his hand between her thighs to push them apart, but she spread them for him.

Offering herself.

Liam reluctantly released her nipple; the cool of the air on the wet skin made it stiffen even more. He slid down the bed so he could see Riley B.’s most secret place. The smell of her arousal greeted him first; faint, sweet, enticing.

Once again, lightning lit the room to allow him to see her essence-dampened skin.

She shaved down there.

He spread cocoa-colored lips to reveal her pink. He bit his lip to hold back a groan as he slowly pumped two fingers in and out of her slippery entrance. His slightly opened mouth hovered over her clit, willing himself to not taste her.

His tongue swiped her from clit to entry.

“No sex! You promised no sex until we dated.” Riley’s protests were uttered in a desire-filled voice.

God, she wanted this, but she had to stick to her own boundaries, her own standards. She wanted him. He wanted her. For so long. But Riley wanted what this could be to be different; she wanted Liam to want more. More than this.

Liam’s lips released her bud and began traveling up her body. His lips pulled at the side of her neck; she smelled of sleep and yesterday’s perfume. He captured her lips, his tongue slowly rolling with hers.

His fingers still pumped within her.

“We’re not having sex; it’s a makeout session!” he corrected her.

Riley’s hand gripped Liam’s cock more firmly in her hand; her strokes sped up.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, Liam Daniel!”

Liam’s hips rocked rhythmically in Riley’s hand. “Don’t be middle-naming me, woman!”

Silence as they continued to jack and jill each other. Liam let out a moan. “Yes! Yes, Riley B. … just.like.that!”

Riley’s eyes were closed as she felt the thick meat wrapped in her fist; they opened when she felt Liam’s body pressed atop hers. “What are you doing?”

“No sex,” Liam promised. “I just want to grind against your body. Can I do that, Riley B.?” His eyes were wide with hope, dark with lust.

I want to put the tip in.

“God, yes,” Riley moaned as their hips humped and ground against each other. The bulbous head of his cock pressed against her clit; Riley’s neck arched as her head pressed deeper into her pillow. Liam pulled back to stroke himself against her length. It was wet, slippery.

She was so beautiful. He loved her so much.

A clap of thunder so loud it shook the bedroom walls exploded in the sky as Riley’s body quaked with orgasm; Liam’s body shuddered and jerked with his release.

The cries from their shared crescendo echoed throughout her apartment.

Afterwards, they lay on their backs, catching their breaths as rain continued to pound the earth. Liam washed them up, smiling at Riley B. the entire time. When he climbed back in the bed, he grabbed his phone and began tapping keys.

Riley hid her disappointment; she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Cuddles, conversation, falling back asleep? Whatever it was, Liam getting on his phone after such an intimate experience and ignoring her wasn’t it.

Maybe if there weren’t so many layers being added to a decade-long friendship; maybe if she could just let go and trust; maybe if she just lowered her fucking expectations.

Maybe if she just stopped overthinking everything.

Riley let out a sigh as her hand fumbled over her bedside table, searching for the remote. Liam heard the clatter and looked up from his phone.

“What are you doing, Riley B.?”

“About to cut on the television,” she replied tersely.

Liam smirked, but inwardly, insecurity was running rampant.

Did I move too fast? Maybe I didn’t please her?

“I need to step my game up if all you want is television after our wake-up.”

“You wanted your phone, I want television,” Riley replied as her hands curled around the remote.

“For breakfast ideas!” Liam said, holding out his phone.

Riley reluctantly glanced at the phone screen: pictures of something called baked Sicilian eggs. Her eyes widened slightly.

“We have a routine: I do breakfast, you do dinner. I wanted to make you a special breakfast because you know … thank you,” he explained in a rushed voice.

“You were looking for … breakfast?” Riley asked in an embarrassed tone. She hung her head to hide both her embarrassment and relief.

Liam nodded. “What else? You wanna help me look?”

Riley released her hold on the remote and scooted across the bed to lay her head in the crook of Liam’s shoulder. His free arm wrapped around her as he positioned the phone between them.

“Yes, please,” she replied eagerly as Liam’s fingers stroked her hair.

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @wannabemc2 @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @hopefulmoonobject @custaroonie @jovialyouthmusic @thequeenofcronuts @amomentofsinclairity @bobasheebaby @ao719 @sashatrr @marietrinmimi @ladyangel70 @gardeningourmet @umccall71 @angi15h @romanticatheart-posts @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @blznbaby @tabithacarlisle @bbrandy2002 @ab1901 @janezillow @debramcg1106 @radlovedreamer @lodberg @thecordoniandiaries @ramseyandrys @caroldxnvxrs @princess-geek @burnsoslow @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @emichelle @indiacater @loveellamae @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @zaffrenotes @bebepac @liyanin @dibberdipper @choiceslife @ac27dj @the-soot-sprite @gnatbrain @seriouslybadchoices @sanchita012 @anotherbeingsworld @atha68 @aworldoffandoms @hopelessromanticmonie @princessleac1 @amandablink @yungnayque

 #ns*w #lemons #sgl #riley b #dcbbw writes

[fan-writer02]

Howdy folks. So, I watched Rogue One the other day and sorta fell in love (aight I’m going to be honest, I’m pretty sure it is now one of my favorite Star Wars films of all time) and honestly, Jyn and Cassian are my new otp. So, naturally, I had to do the one thing the Rogue One fandom knows how to do best. Make an alternate ending. c: Enjoy.     (Also if you wanna go check it out over on Ao3 I’d greatly appreciate it thx <3) (Oh, and let me know if you want more ;))

Find hope where hope is not found

               Jyn stumbled back, trying to ignore the pulsing in her leg so she could stand up straight. Her blaster was long gone, leaving her defenseless. But if she had to fight Krennic with her bare hands she would. So she pulled her shoulders back and leaned forward, even as her heart fought to break free from her chest. For she was staring down the barrel of a blaster.

               The shot came, but the pain did not. She glanced down in confusion, wondering if the shot had sent her into shock. She had been told that could happen, where you don’t feel the initial pain until the adrenaline wears off. But no, there was no blaster wound. No blood. Nothing.

               She looked back up again, watching in shock as Krennic crumpled, a smoking hole in his shoulder. Her gaze went past him, and her heart finally stopped pounding against her rib cage. Now, it sunk to her stomach.

               Cassian was leaning against a beam, back heaving and eyes focused on her, as if he didn’t even see the man he’d just shot. In those short moments that their gaze held, she took him all in. Although, due to his body being half hidden by the pole he leaned against, she couldn’t tell where he was injured. But clearly, he was. Wavering, he looked like he was barely hanging on to consciousness. He still had his arms extended, his hands tightly fisting his blaster.

               She stumbled forward and half crashed half leaned against the control panels. Much to her relief, the files had loaded. They’d been successfully transferred. The relief that filled her was exhausting. A sort of sad bubbly feeling. They’d done it. They’d succeeded.

               She only prayed someone had been listening.

               She looked up at Cassian and flashed a smile. His blaster was still aimed at the unconscious Krennic, but his eyes were on her. He matched her smile with his own, albeit weak and laced with pain. He wheezed and slowly began lowering his arms, just before the blaster clattered onto the grate floor. She stumbled towards him and ducked under his arm before he could completely collapse.

               His breathing was ragged, she could feel it on her cheek. Still, she couldn’t find her voice, and it seemed he couldn’t either, for all he did was wrap an arm around her waist while his other grappled for her arm, which he gripped tightly. She looked towards Krennic, and moved to pick up Cassian’s blaster, fully prepared to finish the job. But Cassian stopped her, using his body weight to keep her from moving.

               “Leave it, Jyn, leave it.” He mumbled, his accent thick. She fell back, allowing Cassian to press his face against her hair, letting his choppy breathing calm her. He was right. There were other things to worry about.

               Like getting off this planet.

               She took one last look at Krennic, before turning and pulling Cassian’s arm over her shoulder. Together, they made their way towards the elevator, shuffling as an awkward three legged creature. With every step Cassian became more and more dead weight.. Both his legs were uncooperative, dragging them both down, and he had his left arm wrapped tightly around his chest. But the only signs of his discomfort was his breathing.

               “Do you think-“ He wheezed, and she craned her neck to look into his face. She was surprised to see he was already looking at her, a small smile teasing his lips. “Do… do you think anyone was listening?”

               She focused on placing one foot in front of the other, but she didn’t have to think twice before answering. She broke eye contact to look up at the cloudy sky above them, littered with a few scattered Imperial aircraft, but mostly smoke. “Yes. I do.” She had little energy to say any more, so she only shifted him, her heart skipping a beat at his shaky inhale. She pulled them into the elevator and helped Cassian to lean against the wall so she could focus on punching at the keypad, placing their destination for ground level.

               “Jyn.” Cassian muttered. At this point his accent was so thick, she could hardly make out what he was saying. She finished typing, and the door slammed shut. She turned and went to his side to grab his arm, supporting him. He murmured her name again incoherently, his eyes barely open.

               “Cassian, stay with me.” She said, too desperate to care that her voice quivered. She was done with being strong. Done with being careful and guarded. Her shield was down, but she did not care. Because for all she knew, Cassian could be dying.

               She moved closer, until their chest’s were almost touching. Cassian’s head was resting against the glowing wall of the elevator, his tired gaze resting on her, and she couldn’t help but lean forward. She lifted a hand and set it on his shoulder, trying to tell him what she wanted to say. She opened her mouth to actually voice her thoughts, to tell him “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m sorry about K2 I’m sorry we’re going to die I’m sorry-” but nothing came out. She shut her mouth again, feeling absolutely and utterly helpless.

               He surprised her by lifting his hand and grabbing the edge of her shirt, just above her collar bone. His look deepened, and for a moment, Jyn felt the world around them disappear. Like they weren’t in a shaking elevator, in a building on an island threatening to explode. Like their friend hadn’t just died. And for a minute, everything was okay.

               But the spell was broken when the elevator shook, nearly spilling them both onto the floor. She pushed away from the wall towards the panel, huffing a sigh of relief when the screen glared back at her “Ground 0”.

               She spun around and grabbed Cassian, trying to be somewhat gentle by pulling him against her. His side bumped against hers, and for the first time he let out a pained moan. She murmured a small, “Sorry.” but there wasn’t time to be careful. The doors opened, and the world outside only confirmed what she feared.

               The entire island was falling to hell.

               Ships were raining from the sky, along with bits of debris, and consequently, balls of flame comprised of broken parts from both the building towering above them, and the crashing ships. She pulled Cassian out of the elevator and across the sand, while he tried his best to help her. But he couldn’t seem to get his legs beneath him, which worried her more than she could say. But still, he didn’t complain, only pushed on in desperate attempts to match her sloppy steps.

               The wind picked up, grabbing at her shirt and hair. Sand began to swirl about them, getting into her clothes and her eyes making it almost impossible to see. She squinted, and swiveled, trying to find a means of escape. But when she turned, she stumbled, and for a moment forgot to breathe..

               On the horizon rose a plume of flame and smoke. A giant mushroom cloud, like the storms she’d seen back home, on the farm with her father and mother. One’s that flashed lightning and thunder. But this… this was clearly not a rain cloud.

               There’s something about staring death in the face that makes you lose all hope. Jyn fought back a cry as her knees went out, and both her and Cassian fell into the sand. He leaned against his hand, his other still holding his stomach, but he was looking up at the smoke.

               At their death.

               He fell back, twisting his body so he could see her better. She refused to meet his gaze, for she knew what she’d find there. It wasn’t like him to just… just sit there and do nothing. Unless he was giving up. And she wasn’t quite ready for that. Not yet.

               She wanted to live. So badly. More than that, she wanted him to live, too. She wanted them to live.

               She looked behind them, trying desperately to find anything that might look like a means of escape. A ship, a fleeing aircraft… anything. But all she could see through the flying sand was smoke and devastation.

               A hand grabbed hers, and she jerked her head to look at him. Cassian smiled wearily, and started to say something before turning away and coughing into his shirt sleeve. When he lifted his head, she was horrified to see the blood stain he left behind.

               “Your… your father…” he paused and swallowed. His hand squeezed hers, and he smiled again. “Your father would be proud of you, Jyn.”

               In that moment, Jyn had never felt such a strong desire to cry. And she never cried. She could count on one hand the amount of times she’d cried in the past five years of her life. But now, here, with death looming just a few miles away, and Cassian dying, she wanted to cry and scream at the world for being so cruelly unfair.

               She met his smile with one of her own, although it was tear filled. Because heck it all, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Death, at this point, was inevitable. So she let the tears fall.

               Cassian leaned forward, and his head met her shoulder. She moved closer to him, finding the strength to kneel up and pull him into her arms. His hands rose to press weakly against her back, another on her neck, and his nose tucked just under her ear.

               She could hear him breathing, and she tried to focus on that. The wind was picking up now, hot and dry. She knew it wouldn’t be long. Who knew this would be how she would die? On the beach of an imploding planet?

               She clung to him tighter, and honed in on his breathing. In and out, in and out. It was choppy, but steady. She let it drown out the noise around them. The sound of death.

               The wind picked up suddenly, and she knew. This was it. The sand was clawing at her face now, and she screwed her eyes shut. She prayed death would be quick about it. Not just for her sake, but for Cassian’s. He was shaking in her arms, his grip growing weaker. He was in pain, and if death was going to come, then she wished it would do it quickly.

               She gave up, and prepared to let the sand swallow her.

               But a hand suddenly gripped her jacket, none too kindly, and jerked her to her feet. She spiraled and sprawled on what she thought would be sand, but to her amazement, was actually metal. Metal that hummed beneath her with life and the promise of a roaring engine.

               She opened her eyes to see a figure dragging Cassian up the piece of metal which she realized was, in fact, a gangplank to a ship. She scrambled to her feet and crawled up inside the ship, not caring if it was Imperial or Rebel.

               We’re going to live. She thought fanatically. The idea was enough to make her giddy.

               The door slammed closed, and only then did she gather her wits. The man holding Cassian let him drop to the ground before rushing towards a door, not pausing to say anything before practically leaping into the cockpit, the sound of switches clicking and gears whirring the only things she could make out. After a quick assessment, she saw that she and Cassian were alone, with only the pilot as their companion.

               Cassian.

               She turned and crawled over to his side before helping him to sit up more comfortably. She thought about leaning him against the wall of the ship, but it was bent at an awkward level, and with how his ribs and who knew what else being messed up, she figured something softer would be better.

               So she positioned herself behind him, and slowly laid him to rest in her lap, with his back and head propped against her chest and shoulder. His head flopped, and his nose tickled her neck. Although having him unconscious worried her, she also counted it as a small mercy. At least he was blissfully unaware of any pain.

               She looked up when a curse was muttered from the cockpit. The ship shook, and she braced a hand against the wall.

               “Hello!?” She called, her voice a mere rasp. She swallowed and wet her lips before trying again. “What’s happening?”

               “Jyn! Hang tight, we’re breaking atmospheric pressure.”                

               Jyn fell back with relief, a small laugh choking her. Bodhi. It was Bodhi, he’d found them.

               “You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice.” She called, not sure if he could hear her or not. When she didn’t get a reply, she remained silent, figuring he could concentrate better without her distracting him.

               Instead, she looked down at Cassian, and brought her hand away from the ship’s wall to push back his hair. It was filled with sand, but worse than that, his forehead was layered with sweat. She let her hand rest there, worrying when she realized how warm he was. The blood on his sleeve caught her eye, and she wondered what interior damage he’d sustained to cause him to cough blood. She struggled to remember her basic lessons as a child. Gerrera hadn’t cared much for her schooling, so whatever knowledge she had was from experience or what her mother had told her.

               Coughing up blood. The lungs. A punctured lung? What do you do for a punctured lung? She looked down again, focusing on Cassian’s chest. Each breath was irregular and wheezy, his chest shaking with each rise and fall. His chest was definitely messed up.

               The ship careened, forcing Jyn and Cassian against the wall. Cassian’s weight pressed her already injured leg against the ship, and she bit on her lip to keep from screaming. The adrenaline was slowing wearing off, and with it came pain.

               The ship jerked and visibly dropped, leaving her stomach behind. “Bodhi?” She cried.

               “We’re out! We’re out!” He whooped, accompanied by more clicking and beeps from the ship's controls. She heard his quick steps, then he appeared in the cockpit’s doorway. “We’re safe, guys.” He breathed, a wide grin splitting his face. “Well, for now anyhow.” He moved towards them, pausing to search through some supplies in an overhead bin.

               She noticed he favored his right leg, but other than a few minor cuts and bruises, he looked to have escaped mostly unscathed. For the utmost time that day, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. At least one of them had escaped without any fatal injuries.

               Speaking of which.

               She pulled Cassian a little bit closer. “Is there a med kit on board?” The thought only then occurred to her that they were on a strange ship, not the one they’d come to the island on. An Imperial ship? If she was more aware, she might be able to figure it out. But her mind was so muddled, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. It was a ship, and it had gotten them off of Scarif, and that was enough for her.

               Bodhi pulled out a metal box from the bin, not bothering to shut it before making his way to the spot where Jyn and Cassian lay. He crouched beside them and opened the box, pulling out different medical equipment and passing them to Jyn, who only stared at them. She had no clue what she was doing. She’d been hurt in the past, but she’d merely slapped a bacta patch on it and called it good. There was only so much a small bacta patch could do for internal damage, especially something so bad it caused Cassian to cough blood.

               “What do I do?” She asked, picking up a cylinder. She pulled off the plastic covering, and realized it was a needle.

               Bodhi was busy peeling off bacta patches, but gestured towards his arm. “Just stick it in his arm. It’s an injection and should help wake him up and ward off some of the pain.”

               She didn’t hesitate to jab it into Cassian’s skin, right through the cloth of his shirt. Once all the clear liquid inside the needle was gone, she pulled it out and tossed it aside, before looking back up at Bodhi for further instructions.

               “Where’s he the most hurt?” Bodhi asked, a quiver finding its way into his voice. He looked up, and she realized he was just as nervous as she was, although there was a hardness behind his eyes. She trusted him.

               “I-I’m not sure. He fell in the tower, hit his back and chest. He couldn’t walk and he was coughing up blood-” She looked down at his sleeve.

               “Oh.” Bodhi whispered, following her gaze. His hands were shaking. “Oh.”

               “What do we do? I think he has a punctured lung.”

               “T-take his shirt off.”

               Jyn hastily unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it away, revealing his chest. She swallowed thickly at the sight of multiple bruises and deep discolouration along his entire rib cage. And that wasn’t the most concerning part. Because she could see the bumps beneath the skin, no doubt hiding broken ribs.

               Bodhi began pressing bacta patches on the worst of the bruising, before leaning back on his heels and pressing his palms against his knees. He exhaled deeply. “Anything else?”

               Jyn carefully leaned Cassian forward, wincing when his head flopped forward. But she wanted to check his back, because she had no doubt that falling on a metal beam had to have some effect on his spine. At that thought, it dawned on her that that could be the reason why he’d been unable to walk. Perhaps his spine had sustained some damage…

               She pulled up his shirt, and sucked in a sharp inhale. His lower back was nothing but one massive bruise, and along his spine was red and swollen. Bodhi leaned forward and hissed at the sight, his tongue clicking anxiously.

               “Oh no. Oh no oh no, that’s…” Bodhi paused and caught himself before he could say any more.

               “Bacta. Quick.” Jyn barked, and both she and Bodhi wasted no time in pressing the patches against the worst of Cassian’s spine. Once done, she peeled off her jacket with some difficulty, seeing as how Cassian was still half laying in her arms. Once done she spread it on the ground, and Bodhi went to get a blanket to spread over top of it. Between the two of them, they managed to lay Cassian on the makeshift bed. It wasn’t great, and she had a feeling that with the state of his back, he should not be lying on a hard surface, but it was the best they could do.

               Bodhi stuttered that he was going back to check on their stats, before disappearing into the cockpit, leaving her alone. She adjusted herself until she was leaning against the wall, next to Cassian's head. She studied him, trying to calm down and finding it very difficult to do so. Her mind kept drifting to the fact that they had almost died. They’d been so close to death. She practically touched it.

               Her mind drifted to Kay. She hadn’t been half as close to the droid as Cassian had been, but still, he’d been a friend. One of the few she’d ever had. And he’d sacrificed himself for them- for her father’s cause.

               And what had happened to Chirrut and Baze, Jyn had no idea. If they’d survived the battle, there was a slim chance they’d made it off the island before it exploded. And she’d been so absorbed in Cassian she hadn’t thought to ask Bodhi. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. For now, she’d rather have the small sliver of hope in the fact that they might be alive.

               She looked back down at Cassian and dwelled on that for a minute. Hope. Something Cassian practically lived for. She closed her eyes and smiled, regardless of their current situation. To some it might seem pretty hopeless, with Cassian practically lying on his deathbed and Bodhi trying to find a way to get an Imperial ship to a Rebel base. But the plans had made it out, they were alive (albeit barely) and as long as they had that, Jyn figured there was still plenty of hope.

#rogue one #rogue one spoilers #rogue one a star wars story #rebelcaptain #rogue one fic #rogue one fanfiction #cassian andor #jyn erso #jyn and cassian #star wars #star wars fanfiction #rebelcaptain fic #rebelcaptain drabble #mywriting

[decembercamiecherries]

intensely beautiful

IT’S KILLUGON DAYYYYYYYYYYY :D and who would I be if I didn’t have a fic to post on the day of my best and most wonderful otp~?

I actually wrote this like two months ago lol. It was inspired by this lovely killugon kiss by @cazzart over on her twitter! It’s a college au ^-^ Pls enjoy!

(title is inspired by the word ceraunophilia which is defined as a deep love of thunder and lightning. It also connotes the idea of finding both intensely beautiful)

-o0o-

Gon had never seen snow before. 

Not this much, at least, and it had never snowed for this long. He watched with quiet awe as layers upon layers of snow fell from the sky, coating the campus in a light coating of powdery white. It had never really been cold enough to snow back at his hometown in Whale Island. The first and last time it happened was when he was only three, wide eyed and enchanted at witnessing something he’d only seen in books or movies.

“It’s snow,” Aunt Mito had told him kindly, standing beside him as he gazed out the window early that morning. “It’s pretty, don’t you think?”

It had been pretty, in a surreal way. Gon had been fascinated with how the snowflakes melted in his palm but stuck hard to the stone walkway leading to their small hut. He’d even tried to keep some, carrying a handful of snow inside only to cry when it started melting. 

And that was the problem with Whale Island and snow. It couldn’t last. By the next day the blinding sun has returned, bringing with it the heat and humidity that was much more familiar to Gon than the cold and grey skies. Within hours, all the snow had gone.

But it was different here. 

“It’s really coming down hard, huh?” Killua asked and Gon glanced up at him. Killua’s nose was scrunched up, a light dusting of pink spread across the sharp angles his cheeks and the tips of ears. He had complained and whined when Gon had first asked him if he wanted to go outside—Killua had never exactly liked the cold, exactly. 

But Gon had asked him anyway, because even if the snow meant it was cold outside, it was still beautiful. And if Gon was going to experience something amazing, he wanted to do it with his best friend at his side. 

“Hmm,” Gon hummed, holding on tighter to Killua’s arm and resting his head on Killua’s shoulder. His head was jostled slightly with every step, but he didn’t let it bother him. “Yeah, it is. But I like it.”

Killua scoffed. “You would like it. Everything is gross and wet and slippery…” He frowned down at Gon. “Have you ever even seen snow before?”

“A while ago. It snowed once back on Whale Island when I was really little.”

Killua quirked an eyebrow. “Really? I would’ve thought it was too hot for that. Whale Island is way further south than here, right?”

“Yeah, well, it only happened once.” 

Gon let his gaze wander from Killua’s pale face to the snow covered grounds. Hunter College looked nearly unrecognizable after the gift from Mother Nature. Silvery white had hidden the dead grass, the bare branches of the trees were decorated with puffs of white that almost looked like clouds. It was even devoid of the students that usually mulled across the lawn between classes, with no one in sight but him and Killua.

Most of the other students had gone home for winter break. But Killua didn’t want that—he didn’t like his family’s empty mansion, or equally empty family members. There was a history there, a reason why Killua had chosen to attend college so far away from everything he had ever known. Gon had never pushed him on it—Killua was Killua, no matter what shadows lurked in his past—and he wasn’t about to now. 

So when Killua has told him he planned on staying for the month-long break, Gon had stubbornly decided to stay, too. Killua didn’t deserve to be alone for so long, and besides, Gon didn’t want to leave Killua alone. 

It didn’t matter how tempting the memory of Aunt Mito’s warm pies or his familiar bed. If Killua was here, that’s where Gon wanted to be.

“Did it ever snow back at your house?” Gon asked curiously, still staring at the blinding whiteness around them. 

He didn’t have to look up to hear the scowl in Killua’s answer. “Ugh, yeah. It snowed a little too much for my liking.”

Gon laughed quietly and squeezed Killua’s arm. “You really, really don’t like the cold, huh?”

“Gee, I wonder what gave you that idea?”

Gon grinned. “I dunno, it’s just a feeling I had.”

Killua snorted and Gon’s grin grew even wider. “You’re so stupid,” Killua said, but the insult had no bite. His tone was warm, so full of soft fondness, that Gon had to look up. Even Killua’s eyes—bright as the sky or a bluejay’s wing, deep as a sapphire or the ocean, blue as Gon’s favorite color—grew tender as they gazed back at Gon.

Gon’s heart squeezed. Killua’s eyes were one of Gon’s favorite things about him, and there were lots of things that Gon liked about Killua. But today his eyes looked especially pretty against the dull grey backdrop of the sky and the empty whiteness surrounding them.

“You didn’t have to come out here, you know,” Gon said softly. The snow crunched under their boots with every step, creating a strange but steady thump-ing sound. “You don’t like the cold but you came out here anyway.”

You came out here for me, he added silently as he watched Killua squirm under his gaze. 

“Yeah, well…” Killua huffed, his breath fogging up into a cloud. “Don’t let it get to your head, okay. I know what you’re thinking and if I get sick, I’m blaming you.”

“You won’t get sick from being cold, Killua. That’s just silly.”

“You would be surprised how many times I’ve gotten sick from just ‘being cold’, Gon. And who are you to know, anyway? You’re not a science major!”

Gon laughed again and the sound was boisterous enough to echo across the clearing and bounce off the nearby trees. It shattered the peaceful silence created by the snow and gon heard Killua grumble something about being too loud, but he couldn’t help himself. Killua made him laugh so easily, almost as easily as breathing.

“M-Maybe not,” Gon admitted, still giggling. “But if you do—do get sick, I promise nurse you back to health and everything!”

“You better,” Killua grumbled as his cheeks pinkened. “This is all your fault.”

“You said that already, Ki-llu-a.”

“That d-doesn’t make it not t-true!”

Killua shivered violently, teeth chattering. Gon frowned and rubbed his arm. It wasn’t enough to warm Killua up much—the heavy winter jacket and hat atop his head should already be doing that—but Gon hoped the action was comforting to his best fried all the same. 

“Do you really want to go back?” he asked, concerned. He’d wanted to see the snow, to breathe in the fresh air and feel the snowflakes melting on his cheeks. Despite all their teasing, he didn’t really want Killua freeze badly enough to get sick. He just wanted to share this special moment with the most special person he knew.

To his surprise, Killua shook his head. “N-No...I’m just not used to it. I usually try to stay inside when it’s snowing like this.”

Gon slowed down, a suggestive but very fun idea hitting him. “Maybe you just need to warm up a little?” he asked slyly. 

Killua slowed to match his pace, giving Gon a suspicious look. Gon didn’t blame him—Killua knew him extremely well after four years of being best friend college buddies and two years of being...well, of being more. Killua knew him better than Gon himself some days. And he definitely knew that tone of Gon’s meant trouble.

“What are you saying?” Killua asked with narrowed blue eyes. Gon hummed thoughtfully before releasing Killua’s arm. He twisted around swiftly to plant himself in front of Killua’s path, forcing the Zoldyck to stop in his tracks.

“I’m saying...you need something to warm you up,” Gon said simply and Killua’s eyes light up.

“Oh, yeah?” Killua shoved his hands into his pockets, looking amused. “And you think you have that something?”

“I might,” Gon admits casually. “But I dunno if you’ll like my idea…”

“Why don’t you try me, and I’ll let you know?”

“Hmm. Well, it might involve me getting in your personal space.”

“Might?” Killua echoed. He was giving Gon all of his attention now, all one-hundred percent of that intense blue gaze was locked onto Gon’s face, and a shiver raced down Gon’s spine—a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. “When have you ever respected personal space before?”

Gon grinned. “You never seemed to mind it,” he whispered as he leaned in ever so slowly. He could see his reflection in Killua’s eyes, the way his pupils grew large and his breath stuttered as Gon grew near.

“Hard to mind something you get used to,” Killua whispered back and Gon’s toes curled in his boots. 

“You saying I grew on you?” he asked quietly. He let his hands drift forward to carefully graze Killua’s gloved fingers. Killua bit his lip at the contact—a sight that caused a thrill of satisfaction to rush through Gon. It wasn’t hard to see the struggle in Killua’s face, how he was forcing himself not to grab Gon’s hand and tangle their fingers together as they had so many times before.

“Yeah,” Killua breathed. “You did. Like a wart.”

The answer was so unexpected—so, so Killua—that Gon threw his head back and laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed. He laughed until he was gasping for air, eyes watering and cheeks aching from being stretched too far. 

“Ki-Killua,” he wheezed. “You’re—You’re funny.”

Killua rolled his eyes. “I’m not funny. You’re just stupid.”

Gon snickered, not at all minding the insult. Killua’s insults were more like terms of endearment when applied to Gon. He never really meant them.

“You like me anyway,” he reminded Killua in a teasing tone, finally taking Killua’s hands in his and squeezing them. Killua flushed darkly, a pretty blush that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold coloring his normally pale features.

“I unfortunately do,” he muttered and Gon’s heart fluttered. Killua looked so cute just then, pouting with pink cheeks and looking anywhere but at the person of his affection.

“No need to look so embarrassed, Ki-llu-a,” Gon said with a bright grin. “I like you, too.”

Killua down bit his lip. “You do?”

“You know I do.”

“...you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

Gon’s smile widened. “Maybe just a little. But I can’t help it! You look so cute when you get all flustered.”

Killua opened his mouth, looking like he was about to argue, and that’s when Gon moved. He rushed forward and pressed his lips to Killua’s, still smiling as their mouths touched. 

For a moment, Killua didn’t move. He stayed stiff as wood against Gon—out of surprise more than anything, Gon was sure—but then he melted into Gon’s embrace, leaning against the shorter student as he kissed Gon soundly back. 

Killua’s lips were warm, Gon noted. They were warm and soft and tasted faintly of the hot chocolate Gon had made for him just hours earlier. They were familiar and good and Gon hummed happily before tilting his head to get an even deeper kiss. Killua responded by winding his arms around Gon’s middle, squeezing his waist hard enough as if he could keep Gon here in this moment with just his strength alone. 

Which, he really didn’t need to do. Because Gon wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world than here with Killua, sharing this moment with him as the snowflakes collected on their shoulders and in their hair.

Gon didn’t know how or why, but everything felt right when he was with Killua. Killua had a way of making the world brighter, his problems lighter, his challenges easier. Even when the world was already so beautiful with the snow falling from the sky and the icicles decorating the trees, nothing could ever really compare to the beauty that was Killua.

Gon pulled back and Killua’s eyelashes fluttered. Hazy blue eyes gazed back at him and something hot twisted in Gon’s gut.

“Feeling warmer?” Gon asked, voice hoarse, and Killua sucked in a shuddering breath.

“A little,” he said, cheeks stained red. “But I don’t think I’m entirely warmed up yet.”

Gon tilted his head as he tried to hold back the smile fighting its way onto his face. “Really?”

Killua nodded. “Really.”

Gon grinned. He threw his arms around Killua’s shoulders and pulled Killua in for another kiss, this time holding Killua to him as his boyfriend once more melted into his embrace.

#dc writes #killugon #hunterxhunter #killua zoldyck #gon freecss #kissing #modern au #college au #aged up au #winter #snow

[zerolympiustrife]

Blake, being a cat faunus, is enjoying sleeping in the sunlight, but then rain occurs and she needs to find an alternate way to “sleep in the sunlight”.

Sounds cute!

————————————————————

Anonymous asks: Blake x Sunlight OTP (RWBY)

Note: This contains Dragonslayer. And some additional ships near the end of this story.

————————————————————

*Weiss walks into her team’s room, but then sees a half-naked Blake sunbathing in front of an open, sunny window*

Weiss (weirded out): …I don’t even want to know.

Blake: Sssssshhhhhh…I’m trying to sleep and sunbathe.

Weiss: Whatever. *Leaves*

Blake (smiling): Hmm~…This feels so nice~…

*Suddenly, darkened clouds appear and cover the sun, and thunder booms in the sky*

Blake (eyes widened): Huh? What?

*Heavy rain starts to pour*

Blake (closing the windows): No! *Pouting* Mmmmm!! Damnit…damnit, damnit, damnit! *Glares at the sky as her pupils dilate*

???: Make way!

Blake (ears perk up): Huh?

*Jaune and Yang, who are completely soaking wet, barge into the room and run into the bathroom*

Blake (pondering): Hm…

*10 minutes later, Yang and Jaune, who’re drying theirselves off, walk out of the bathroom wearing towels*

Jaune (looking outside): Doesn’t seem like the rain’s gonna go away anytime soon.

Yang (checking her scroll): Agh. And judging from the forecast, it doesn’t seem like the rain’s gonna go away until tomorrow morning.

Blake (hiding under the bed): T-T-Tomorrow…?!

Jaune: Might as well grab my clothes and-

*Yang grabs his arm*

Yang: Hold on there, ladykiller. Where do you think you’re going?

Jaune: Back to my dorm. And just do…y’know, “me” stuff.

Yang (smirking): I dragged you into my room, allowed you to take a hot shower with me, and now you’re just gonna walk away from me?

Jaune (nervously): Um…no?

Yang: That’s what I thought. Now, let’s cuddle together, ladykiller. Besides, if there’s any “me” stuff you can do, it’s me. *Points to herself*

Jaune (blushing): Wait, right now? And naked?!

Yang (sarcastically): No, I wanna put on another set of clothes and go out into the pouring rain again. Of COURSE I wanna cuddle with you!

Jaune: Oh! Uh…okay!

*Blake, who’s still hiding, hears some shuffling and giggling*

Yang (giggling): Ooh! Ladykiller…you’re so warm~!

Jaune (chuckling): Funny, I was about to say the same thing.

Yang (getting closer): Mmmm~…Hehehe! Maybe the reason I’m so warm is because you’re making me warm~.

Jaune (kisses her cheek): Oh contraire, sunshine. Perhaps your very presence alone emanates warmth!

*Blake, who desperately wants “sunlight”, decides to come out of hiding*

Yang (seeing Blake): Ah! Blake!

Jaune (turning around): Ah! How long were you standing there?

Blake (blushing): I-If it’s not too much trouble…can I cuddle with you two?

*Jaune looks to Yang, and she nods happily in approval*

Jaune: Sure you ca-

Yang: However, you gotta pay the toll.

Blake: And what’s that?

Yang: No clothing or underwear in this bed.

Jaune (eyes widened): Wha- Yang! Blake doesn’t need to take off her underwear to cuddle-

*An already naked Blake gets under the covers, between Jaune and Yang*

Jaune (baffled): -with us.

Blake (feeling the warmth): Mmmmmmm~! *Smiles and starts purring*

Yang (smiling): Aw, that’s cute. *Scratches the back of her left cat ear*

Jaune (smirking): Her purrs feel so relaxing. *Scratches the back of her right cat ear*

Blake (internally, purring loudly): Mmmmmm~…this feels so nice…

*Both Jaune and Yang peck Blake on her cheeks, and she starts blushing like mad*

#anonymous asks #Q&A #ask me anything #rwby #dragonslayer #yang x jaune #jaune x yang #blake belladonna #weiss schnee #jaune arc #yang xiao long #also this contains a little bit of #knightshade #bumbleby #stung knight #also if you were expecting some blacksun #then do i feel sorry for you

[blurry-fics]

Summer Storm

Pairing: Tyler Joseph x Reader

Warnings: None (except maybe some fluff without plot)

Word Count: 2480

Request: @ohprettyweeper sent me this prompt: “Hi friends just here to remind you not to imagine your otp on a hammock together. Don’t imagine Person B is asleep on Person A’s chest and definitely don’t imagine Person A with one foot on the floor so they can rock the hammock in hope of keeping Person B asleep” as well as some of her favorite tropes, and this fic was born :)

Author’s Note: I thought all of you could do with some nice fluff after the last chapter of PMW that I put you through :) hopefully this makes up for it!

Tyler’s fingers were laced comfortably between yours as you walked down the beach, enjoying the crashing of the waves and the first break from tour that the two of you had had in months. Clouds lingered overhead, but the air was still warm and dry so you had decided to stay out just a little longer. There would be plenty of time for lounging around the house you two had rented later.

“Do you want to walk in the ocean?” Tyler asked.

You turned to look at him, admiring the way his brown eyes were shining in the sunlight. His eyebrows were raised slightly, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You allowed Tyler to lead you closer to the water. The two of you only went ankle-deep at first, adjusting to the cooler temperature of the water from the warm sand you had been on a moment before. Slowly, the two of you inched farther into the ocean until the water was lapping around your knees. Tyler came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting his head fall forward until it was resting on your shoulder.

“I’m surprised you haven’t tried to splash me with water yet,” you laughed, resting your own arms on top of his.

“I thought about it, but then you’ll be upset with me and if you’re upset with me then you won’t cuddle with me when we get back to the house.”

“Wouldn’t that be a tragedy.”

“It would indeed,” he murmured against your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

The two of you stood in the water for awhile, admiring the distant crashing of waves and the way the water rippled around your feet. Tyler would occasionally hum a quiet melody, most likely without fully realizing what he was doing. It was a common occurrence.

“Did you feel that?” you asked.

“Feel what?”

“I thought I felt a raindrop.”

You turned and looked overhead. A few dark clouds were in the sky, but the forecast that morning hadn’t had any indication that there would be a rainstorm. Tyler held a hand out with his palm to the sky. Droplets of water slowly started to fall onto his hand.

“Looks like you were right.”

“We should get back to the house before it picks up.”

The two of you made your way back to the sand, picking up your sandals on the way, and started to walk down the beach. Tyler laced his hand with yours again, though the lazy pace you two had been going at earlier had been abandoned. Now, you were moving quick to try and beat the approaching storm.

You had only made it about halfway back to the house when it really began to pour. Your hair was falling into your face, water droplets dripping from your soaking strands of hair to the tip of your nose. Tyler wasn’t having the same problem, since he had decided to wear a baseball hat for your outing. You were actually kind of enjoying being out in the pouring rain, feeling the water hit your bare skin and bounce off the sand.

“I think we’re almost there,” Tyler said. His head was turned towards the houses that lined the coast, carefully watching for the one you had been staying in.

“It’s ok, Ty, I’m in no rush.”

Tyler turned to you, his eyebrows furrowed. “But it’s pouring down rain?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t gotten used to after living in Ohio.”

He sighed and looked out towards the expanse of beach in front of you, “I suppose. I just thought, since it’s vacation, you would be upset it’s raining.”

“Of course not. As long as we’re together and somewhere other than Columbus, that’s a good vacation to me.”

Tyler used your linked hands to pull you into his side so that he could fully wrap an arm around you. You practically stumbled into him, but he caught you and kept you from falling with hardly any effort. 

“You’re right. Being together is all that matters.”

“Not to mention that sharing a kiss in the rain is always romantic.”

“Sounds like someone is trying to send me a hint,” Tyler laughed.

“Maybe.”

He stopped walking and turned both of you so you were now face to face. His hands automatically went to your hips, holding you close. You smiled and reached your hand up to his hat, spinning it around so that you didn’t accidentally run into it when you inevitably ended up kissing him. His eyes didn’t leave you the entire time.

“So are you going to kiss me or what?”

“I was just taking a moment to admire you,” he smiled.

You moved your hand from where it was resting up to his cheek, lightly tracing the stubble that had begun to grow there. Sometimes you wondered how you had ended up with someone so handsome, talented, and kind hearted. 

“Then I’ll take a moment to admire you too.”

You stood still for a moment, letting the rain pour down on you and looking into each other’s eyes until you both started laughing. Tyler wrapped his arms tighter around you, fully pulling you into a hug. You leaned your head into his chest, letting him sway you side to side.

“Ok, ok, I think I owe you a kiss,” Tyler said once his laughter died down.

You leaned back, but still kept your arms wrapped around him. He let go of you so that he could rest his hands on either side of your face and pull you closer until your lips met. Rain ran down your face, pooling against Tyler’s fingers where they were resting on your cheek. You didn’t care, all that mattered was the warmth of Tyler’s lips against yours.

Thunder cracked overhead, interrupting the kiss you and Tyler had been sharing. You both looked to one another with wide eyes, still holding onto one another tightly.

“We need to get back to the house.”

“Agreed.”

Tyler took hold of your hand and the two of you went running off down the sand. He readjusted his hat back around the right way and you held a hand up to your forehead in a vain attempt to keep rain from falling into your eyes and blurring your vision. You tried your best to keep up with Tyler’s pace, though it was hard when the sand kept squishing beneath your feet.

The two of you practically collapsed through the front door as lightning briefly illuminated the now-dark sky outside. Tyler began to laugh as he pulled his soaking hat off and tossed it on the bench near the door, revealing equally damp hair beneath. You smiled and pushed your own wet strands of hair back from your forehead. 

“Definitely didn’t expect that to happen,” you smiled.

“Neither did I,” he answered, ruffling his hair a little. Drops of water flew off of it and hit you in the cheek. “But I would say we did a good job of making the most of it.”

“For sure.”

Tyler grabbed your hips again and pulled you into another kiss. His lips were still wet, but it was just as sweet as any other kiss.

“Alright, Ty, I’m going to go hop in the shower to warm up real quick, get into some fresh clothes, and then we can figure out what to do from here.”

“Why don’t you just get straight in the shower? I’ll toss some of your clothes in the dryer so they’re warm when you get out.”

“Perfect,” you smiled, giving him another quick kiss on the cheek.

You carefully stripped off your soaking clothes and wrung them out over the sink so that they wouldn’t drip quite so much when you hung them up. The water was warm on your body when you finally stepped in, slowly chasing the chill from beneath your skin. You took your time washing your hair and rinsing salt water from the lower part of your body. By the time you were stepping out of the shower, you felt completely refreshed.

“Are you out of the shower?” Tyler called.

“Yeah!”

You heard Tyler’s footsteps as he walked around the house, followed by the mechanical clunk of the dryer door. A few moments later, he popped his head in the door and handed you some clean, warm clothes.

“Thanks, Ty.”

“Of course.”

Not wanting to steal the bathroom from Tyler much longer, you quickly pulled on the comfy clothes he had brought you and dried your hair. He was in the middle of the living room when you finally left the bathroom, standing in front of the TV with his arms crossed. From the looks of it, he was watching the news.

“I was just seeing what they were saying about the storm,” he said, noticing the look of confusion on your face. “Looks like it will pass by tonight, but we’re going to be stuck at the house unless we want to brave the pouring rain again.”

“I’m sure we can make do here,” you said. “Why don’t you go hop in the shower? I’ll warm up some clothes while you’re getting clean.”

“Good idea,” he smiled, shutting off the TV.

While Tyler got in the shower, you dug through his suitcase for his favorite sweatpants and the shirt that he liked sleeping in, on the rare occasion that he decided to wear a shirt to bed. You tossed them in the dryer while he showered and went to sit on the porch in the meantime. It wasn’t often that you got to hear thunderstorms and you wanted to take full advantage of this opportunity.

It wasn’t until Tyler called out to you from the bathroom that you finally left the porch to grab his clothes for him. He happily took them from you and closed the bathroom door again. This time, you decided to wait in the living room, knowing it would be hardly any time until he was out of the bathroom and ready to spend the evening with you.

“Alright, what’s the plan?” Tyler asked, running a hand through his wet hair.

“Well, it’s still early in the afternoon. We could watch a movie?” Tyler’s nose scrunched. “You don’t like that idea?”

“We can watch movies after dinner tonight. What if we sit out on the porch?”

“I thought you didn’t like storms?”

“I don’t, but I know that you do and I wouldn’t mind spending some time out on the hammock cuddling with you.”

You smiled, once again finding yourself wondering how in the world you had gotten so lucky. Tyler matched your smile and held a hand out to you, helping you up from the couch. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek as you walked out to the back porch where a hammock was strung up.

“Ok, we have to be careful about this,” Tyler laughed as he sat down. “Otherwise we’re going to end up on the ground.”

“Why don’t you get comfortable first? Then we’ll work from there.”

Tyler carefully laid down in the middle of the hammock, occasionally letting a look of sheer panic cross his face as the hammock wobbled a little more than he was comfortable with. You tried not to laugh since he was already doing something he was uncomfortable with in order to be out here with you in the first place.

“Ok, I think I’m comfortable and balanced.”

“Alright, I’m going to try and lay next to you, then. You might have to shift in order to keep the balance even.”

“Ok.”

After a bit of wobbling and a couple worried outbursts, you and Tyler had finally made yourselves comfortable on the hammock. Your head was rested comfortably on his chest and one of his arms was keeping you held close to him, preventing you from rolling right off the side. Tyler also let one of his legs drape over the edge so that he could slowly sway you two from side to side.

“Thank you for taking me on this vacation, love,” Tyler murmured. “It was much needed.”

“Thank you for coming with me. I’ve had a great time so far.”

“I wish we never had to leave.”

“I know. Me too.”

You began to idly trace your fingers along Tyler’s tattoos, admiring how the ink contrasted against his skin. His tattoos were something you had always loved about him, even before you knew the deeper meaning behind them.

“I love you so much, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

“I do know that. And I hope you know that I love you too.”

“Can I pretend to forget so that you’ll say it again?”

“I love you, Tyler Joseph.”

“Ok, now I remember,” he smiled.

You laughed and turned a little further into Tyler’s chest, hiding your face from view. He joined your laughter and rubbed his hand along your arm, letting his fingers just barely ghost over your skin.

More thunder cracked overhead, making Tyler tense for a moment. You fully wrapped your arm around him, applying what little bit of pressure you could manage from the position you were laying in. After a moment, he relaxed again and returned to running his fingers along your arm. With the waves of the ocean crashing in the distance and Tyler beside you, breathing steadily and running his hand along your arm, you thought you might be able to fall asleep right there.

“My eyes are getting heavy,” you mumbled into his chest.

“You can nap, if you want. You deserve the rest and it’s really not going to get more peaceful than this.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

You adjusted your body slightly so that you were more comfortable and allowed your eyes to close. Things were quiet for a moment until Tyler began to softly sing one of the many love songs that you two liked to listen to together. His fingers lightly tapped against your arm, playing the imaginary accompanying piano keys. Before he had even finished the first song, you were asleep.

Tyler didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep until you began to lightly snore against his chest. His singing slowly came to a stop and his arm rested on your hip, holding you tightly enough that you wouldn’t accidentally fall off the side of the hammock but not so tight as to wake you. He soon realized that his own eyelids were growing heavy. A nap definitely didn’t sound like a bad idea.

He let his head roll to the side as his eyes fluttered closed. The thunder had calmed down, leaving just the steady patter of rain on the roof overhead. Not that it mattered, as long as you were next to him he felt safe.

Before he knew it, he was asleep too.

#tyler joseph #tyler joseph x reader #tyler joseph fluff #twenty one pilots #twenty one pilots fanfiction #tyler joseph imagine #tyler joseph drabble #tyler joseph fanfiction #twenty one pilots x reader #twenty one pilots imagine #twenty one pilots drabble #twenty one pilots fluff #skeleton clique #blurry-fics #gn!reader

[crowsent]

Persona 5 demon!AU

Ann as a Nekomata, shifting her appearance to fit whatever role she decided to play, but she’s almost always a beautiful girl. You won’t even know she’s not human until you look closer, until you realise that her pupils are slits or that her canines are a little sharper than usual

Ryuji as a Raiju who very rarely joins human civilisation. you’ll find him in the woods, in the plains, in the wide open areas where he sprints across the terrain howling with laughter as thunder clouds roll over head, lightning flashing every so often. you can’t get a clear look at him, but sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll find a boy where the Raiju runs; a boy with hair like lightning and a smile sharp enough to cut

Imagine Makoto as a lesser Oni, a demonness with horns and sharp teeth and brutal strength. Imagine Makoto never taking a human life, skirting instead the edge of humanity, punishing those who are unjust and showing mercy to those who try to live their lives honestly, looking far more intimidating than she actually is, trying to hold her temper back

Futaba as a zashiki-warashi taking on the appearance of a teenager. Wakaba Isshiki had treated her with kindness so Futaba, as a youkai of good fortune, decided to haunt Wakaba’s house to bring the woman luck. But after her unexpected death, Wakaba’s brother inherited the house and trapped Futaba there. Imagine Sojiro, a regular human, finding and freeing Futaba. Imagine Wakaba’s brother’s fortunes collapsing as the zashiki-warashi fled his house

Imagine Haru as a Kodama, a spirit that protects the forests. Imagine her appearing as just a normal girl with flowers in her hair and a kimono patterned with vines that look like they move

NOW YUSUKE AND AKIRA (my bias and OTP is showing my bad)

Yusuke as a Kitsune would seem fitting, right? He does have a fox mask and is literally called Fox in canon, right?

But what if. What if. Akira was the Kitsune. In myth, Kitsune were cunning tricksters, oftentimes playing pranks on humans. It fits Akira. What if Yusuke was a Yuki-onna instead. In his case he’d be a Yuki-otoko but that’s not important.

What’s important is that Kitsune!Akira would be strangely coloured for a fox. Imagine a large fox demon wandering the night, fox fire lighting up he darkness. Imagine sleek black fur with curious red marks that could not be found on natural non-demon foxes.

Imagine Akira shapeshifting into a more human form, hair as black as his fur, kimono blood red, nine tails unfurling behind him. Imagine him smirking at you, red eyes full of mischief, fangs poking his lips.

Imagine Yusuke as a snow demon, confined in the coldest mountains. Imagine him appearing before lost and weary travelers, guiding them down the right path. Imagine him showing up in a kimono that looked iridescent, like it was made of ice, shimmering in a thousand colours as the light hits it

Imagine the mountain Yusuke lived in being covered in art. The trees had intricate swirling frost marks that formed patterns and figures on the bark. Statues of men, women, children, and animals were strewn all over the mountain, to be melted by the sunlight and recreated in the darkness. Imagine Yusuke’s powers creating ice that does not melt, coveted by sculptors worldwide.

Imagine Akira, toying with the humans who want to kill him for his fur being injured and fleeing into the mountains. Imagine him meeting Yusuke. Imagine Yusuke sealing all of Akira’s injuries with ice and hiding the kitsune as humans look for him.

Imagine Akira giving Yusuke the iconic Fox mask as a thank you

Imagine seeing Yusuke, a snow demon, appear from a storm, wearing a kimono dancing with light and a fox mask that grinned.

I fucking love demon AUs

#persona #persona 5 #p5 #akira kurusu #my #shukita #was showing sorry #crowsentexts

[brolinskeep]

i got tagged :D

i havent replied to any of these in ages, so ive been collecting them since the beginning of 2020 and now i finally got some time to actually answer them wohooo! thx to all you lovely souls for thinking of me here 🥰

im tagging some mutuals here, id love to know what you guys are up to but no pressure. if you find some get-to-me’s here without me haunting your ass, have at it please ;)

tagging: @tsundereslasher, @xrosheen, @ivaleelovesmerlin, @tracionn, @xancredible27, @lao-pendragon​, @katiemcgrath​, @maryluis​, @ofkingsandlionhearts​, @misssnowfoxx​

@elveatas

Rules: list 5 OTPs from 5 fandoms, then tag 10 people to pass it on.

1. Merlin/Arthur 2. Derek/Stiles 3. Thor/Loki 4. Viktor/Yuri 5. Lucifer/Chloe Decker

@dumbhotbitchknightgwaine

5 favorite Male Characters

Arthur Pendragon

Merlin

Derek Hale

Jake Peralta

Cloud Strife (this is a new one for me, but he’s a walking, not-so-much talking deadpan disaster its adorable!)

@elirwen

Love Yourself Challenge

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc. ) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

since starting my new job/studies last august, i was like zero productive manip-wise (i got a couple of things id love to do as soon as i got some time to breathe tho), so it wasnt that hard to pick five xD

Honeymoon Impressions (A Selfie Remix) for Clea2011

the maestro and his muse

Take my hand for @arthur-of-the-pendragons‘s kiss fest

the gentle lads tour

It’s In Our Nature To Complicate by DarkWolfMoon / @roguishredaxion much more her work than mine but i made some stuff her amazing fic

@elirwen, @hunterswarlock and @deanwinchesterisadorable

Rules: spell out your url using song titles. then tag as many people as there are letters in your url

never ever did i regret having such a long url as i do right now xD

B Beautiful Domino by One Direction VS Jessie J (Sound-Of-Faz Mash Up)

R Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

O Omnis Mundi Creatur by Helium Vola

L Long Live by Taylor Swift

I Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin

N New Devide by Linkin Park

S Schrei nach Liebe by Die Ärzte

K Knights of Caledonia by Muse

E Endless Appetite by Steve Barton (Tanz der Vampire US Promo)

E Engel by Rammstein

P The Parting Glas by Peter Hollens, The Hound + The Fox

@reyy-is-bae

rules!! only using song titles from one artist/band, cleverly answer the questions and tag 10 people

Artist: van Canto

Gender: I am human

Feeling: Holding Out for a Hero

Go Anywhere: Take to the Sky

Best Friend: Wishmaster

Time of Day: Starlight

Life As TV Show: Pathfinder

Relationship Status: She's alive

@dumbhotbitchknightgwaine

Quarantine Tag

Rules: the last photo of a celebrity that you saved to your phone is your current quarantine buddy and then tag ten people

so i had to go wayyyyyy back cos i like never save celeb pics on my phone (thats what my 1tb harddrive is for xD), but at last, i cant complain

@thatgaywizardoverthere

Coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | Egyptian mythology or Greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees BOTH | macarons or eclairs | typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | London or Paris | Van Gogh or Monet (Berthe Morisot) | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens | masquerade ball or cocktail party

@merlinshutup & @spiritofcamelot

Get to know me tag

Rules: tag 9 people you’d like to know better

Favourite colour: red

Top 3 ships: Merthur Sterek Thorki

Lipstick or chapstick: lip balm

Last song: Show yourself from Frozen 2

Last movie: Birds of Prey

Currently reading: Actions Speak Louder than Words by @isthatbloodonhisshirt this monster is longer than ‘gone with the wind’ and also so much better!!

Last videogame: if we're counting i-got-some-time-to-waste mobile games: Harry Potter Hogwarts Msystery if we're talking full blown pc/consol games: Assassin's Creed Odyssey last game i wish i was playing but experiencing by binging a yt play through: FFVII REMAKE

Cats, dogs, or…? love both but i've had dogs around since i was a child, so im more at ease with dogs :)

#i got tagged

[allykatsart]

I was tagged by my friend so have this long rant about The Dragon Prince.

#1. Which Primal Source Do you identify most with? Why?

The stars. I find outer space fascinating and calming...also apparently those who relate to the stars often have their heads in the clouds thinking about stuff and since I stay up every night with like 14 stories in my head, that seems to fit.

#2. Elves or Humans?

War and conflict wise: Humans since they were the ones kicked out and most Katolis were just kind of chill about them killing their king and didn’t want to retaliate. They don ‘t want to fight anymore.

Design wise: Elves, I love how different they are from regular humans and all the varieties they come in! They just look so good!

#3. If you had to choose, would you rather free Runaan from the coin or Aaravos from the mirror?

Runaan from the coin. I really like Aaravos but he’s been in there for awhile he can handle a little longer. Also I don’t trust him completely. Freeing Runaan gives more opportunity for story conflicts and character growth while Aavaros is probably gonna be free at some point anyways.

#4. Best animal companion?

I...I can't decide, I love all of them. Zym is great for story purposes (also he’s a dragon), same with Pip, Thunder was epic, Bait need more love, and Phoe Phoe looks so cool!

#5. Best humanoid companion?

Claudia. She’s strong when it comes to magic and would do anything to keep her family close. I can relate to that.

#6. You can revive one character, who is it and why them?

I don’t know. There’s no one in the first two seasons that died that didn’t need to die for the story to work out. I would say Aanaya’s parents but Aanaya needed to be there to make sure Viren didn’t start a war. She wouldn’t be queen if her parents were still there.

#7. Otp?

Harrow x Sarai. They have a good relationship and I loved their chemistry and interactions. Sarai being funny and jovial contrasts well with Harrow’s more serious and deeper moments. At the same time she won’t hesitate to tell her husband when she thinks he’s doing something wrong. They just have a really good relationship and I wish I could see more of it.

#8. Unpopular opinion?

I prefer platonic Rayllum. If romance is gonna be the end game, fine, I’ll tolerate it. I’ve just watched so many Hallmark movies where boy meets girl and they fall in love I get sick of it. It’s mainly a me thing.

#9. Favorite headcanon?

I’d like to think that Claudia and Soren go see their mother every once in awhile. That they might hold a little contempt towards her but they want to try and have a mother. I’d also like to think that their mom also planted a seed of doubt in them about their father, because while Viren is a really complex and morally grey (leaning towards the darker shade of grey) character, I don’t think he realizes it. I think there’s a reason his wife left him that had to do with him not seeing himself as the bad guy, and I kind of hope Claudia and Soren aren’t brainwashed into thinking that their father can do no wrong.

I’d like to headcanon this cause it offers a great naritive appeal in realizing your parents aren’t always good people and that you do NOT have to be like them or make their mistakes. That there are two sides to every story and that people who leave their spouses are not inherently bad or do it for bad reasons.

#10. Best siblings pair?

I know I just talked about them but it’s Soren and Claudia for me. They have One Brain Cell each and most of the time they juggle them for fun. XD

On a more serious note, they remind me of my own relationship with my siblings. My sister is the most important thing to me in my life and we get along well. We also...well, we also live in a split home, just like these two. We’re silly, we make up memes and laugh a lot, we read fanfiction together and draw. We’re really close and help each other with everything. So yeah, how could I not love a sibling pair like Soren and Claudia?

#11. Who’s your Queen?

There’s not many living queens huh? Personally I like Sarai. From what we’ve seen of her, she really cares about life in general.

#12. Lujanne offers you ice cream, how do you respond?

Suspisious…...but I’ll bite (as long as I don’t know it’s grubs XD).

#13. Be honest, do you have the guts to use dark magic?

…...Yes. In all honesty, Claudia’s decision to take that deer’s life to save her brother really struck a nerve in me. If it had been me in her position, my sister paralyzed and I could actually do something about it? I would take that deer’s life in a heartbeat. Dark magic takes a toll on you, I can understand that, but if it takes part of my life to take someone I love? I would do it with no questions asked.

Would I use it constantly? Probably not. I can’t stand being near spiders much less kill them. But I could and would use it if I had to.

#14. Who’s best elf? Why?

Rayla. I love Aaravos but if I’m being objective? He killed people, or helped Viren kill people anyways. Rayla refused to even at her own mission being at stake and has never killed before. 

15. Hot brown morning potion or leaf flavored water?

I don’t know. I don’t particularly like either, I much prefer hot coco.

#16. Best use for magic?

Helping those around you directly or indirectly. Also pranks. Pranks is a good use.

#17. Who wins the best hair award?

Aaravos. Sorry but there’s very little competition there.

#18. Viren; misguided, evil, or actually the good guy?

He knows what he’s doing, but doesn’t think it’s wrong to do so. He does bad things but he feels they are justified. He would take one life he doesn't care about to save a thousand he does know. He’s understandable. He tries to do what he thinks is right.

However he still sends his son to kill two children so he can have the throne. He tells Claudia to disregard her brother in the interest of his own gain. He disregards everyone and everything so that his plans can survive. He hid the dragon egg from Harrow (endangering Ezran) to presumably use against the elves. He wants war no matter the cost. That, no matter the reasoning, is flawed thinking. 

#19. Would you rather fly with Phoe-Phoe, hike with Corvus, sail with Villads, or stay home with Opeli?

I’ve hiked before. I’ve stayed home a lot. I’d prefer flying or sailing, those seem like fun.

#20. Who’s your crush?

Aaravos. I don’t trust him but I’d love to have a conversation with him. His characterization is fascinating and visually he’s very easy on the eyes. I would love to have the opportunity to do what Viren had the chance to do, to talk to him ask questions about him and maybe figure out where he is. I’d also like to learn exactly why he was placed in that mirror….

#21. You’re being chased by a cotton candy hippo; reaction?

RIDE AND EAT IT!

#22. Choose a champion.

Sarai, and if I can’t have her, Zym.

#23. Favorite scene? Why?

Everything in Callum’s mind. I love the funniness of it all, but also the lesson it taught. Just remembering to breathe, to not focus on all those swirling and baffling thoughts that eat you up and to calm down. You don’t need to fix it all, focus on the present and let your brain settle. (Also, it was great to see Callum and his mom.)

#24. Should Soren be a poet?

Yes, well at least at some point. Even if he’s better physically, continuing to be a guard and under his father’s influence might be bad for his mental health. He was just a drone, not really thinking about killing Ezran and Callum, just doing what his father wanted to get approval. Poetry and creative writing is a really good outlet for that.

#25. Soggy Socks. (No more context)

gET OUT!

@theblackdragon-studios I diiiid it

#TDP #The Dragon Prince #Ally #Long rant #long post #Viren #Harrow #Callum #I love this show ok? I love everything about it #It is so well done and I could go on for hours about the littlest things they do #headcannons #TDP headcannons #Claudia #Soren #Ezran #Ez is a good kid too #I kind of want to rant about him #THERE"S SO MUCH I COULD SAY ABOUT THIS SHOW

[mattness]

Space Dementia

Here we go again, my friends ^^  OTP: Jenniwise   And another chapter of my fanfic! Hope you enjoy IT! :D  //// Chapter IV. "Are you sure that I can get to the airport in Bangor on this wreck?" questioned Jennifer, standing in the garage near the old Audi, which occasionally went grandmother. The car didn't start for the last three years because Christine didn't see the need to go anywhere far. Now the car was covered with a layer of dust and quietly waiting in the wings, and Jennifer very much doubted that it would start at all. She ran her hand over the silver bonnet, noticing the rust on the wing. 

"I already started the engine", smiled Chester, throwing the keys with her daughter, and she somehow managed to catch them. "It remains to pour gasoline, and you can safely get to Bangor." "Somehow I very much doubt it, dad", chuckled the girl and sat down behind the wheel. In the salon it smelled terrible rubber mixed with gasoline. Jennifer wrinkled her nose, placing her hands on the steering wheel and looking through the dusty windshield. She immediately adjusted the rear-view mirror to make herself comfortable. The rear window had to be wiped as well as the front, otherwise the road will not be visible. The girl put the key in the ignition and turned it. As expected, the first time the car engine didn't even think to start. It just rattled piteously, and Jen had to re-turn the key. On this time the motor earned, loudly growling on the whole garage. The brunette smiled, and Chester standing in the garage near the car, a fairly clapped her hands. "Why don't you take it for a couple of blocks?" the father offered, having approached the car from a driver's seat. "You said there was no gasoline", Jennifer recalled and turned off the engine. "In the canister just for road in Bangor. Maybe we shouldn't waste it?" "As you wish", he shrugged. The girl got out of the car and smiled at Chester. He adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose and flipped his daughter on nose. "You're so happy to be back in the big city. I thought we'd spend more time together here in Derry. Still, the repair is not finished yet." "I'm leaving only for an internship. You will not notice how the week will fly", assured Jen, hugging dad. "It isn't a fact that they will be taken me there. I'm not ready to write articles about girls’s problems all the time." He laughed, patting his daughter on the back, and looked into her eyes. "Don't doubt yourself and your powers, Jen." "I have no doubt. I'm just sane estimate about my chances." Chester was again pulled her to him and sighed. He still could not accept the fact that his little Jennifer was no longer such. And it was that horrible day when she is forced to leave home to begin an independent life. He knew that sooner or later this day would come, so now it was only necessary to accept. He will be crazy miss her and ask her to come to Derry often. "I'll miss you, Jenni", voiced his own thoughts Chester, tightly clutching her in his arms. "Me too, daddy. But I'll be calling, and I'll be back soon. You'll see", smiled sadly Jennifer and stepped back. "Okay, okay. No more veal tenderness! Let's clean this old lady up." The girl found among a heap of garage trash bucket with a sponge and immediately ran to fill it with water. It turned out that under a layer of dust was hiding a beautiful silver-white paint, and a little later, in the sun, Audi already glistened with purity. Jennifer smiled at her own reflection in the windshield, wiping it with a sponge while his father was at that time a hose was watering the trunk and the roof of the car. She even thought about what this piece of junk now after the water treatment, looked quite passable. On such a machine is not ashamed to appear in Bangor. From her own thoughts Jen snorted. * * *  That evening she packed all the necessary things for the first time in a compact suitcase. MacBook fit in the bag, which was a cosmetic bag and other important things. Then she gathered herself: wearing blue jeans with a black t-shirt, and over it threw a warm red bumper. Quite nodding to her reflection, Jennifer looked out the window. Weather by the evening spoiled, that doesn't surprise Wright. The clouds in the sky were gathering and a strong wind was blowing. Seems, the storm coming, thought she. But even this storm will not prevent her from leaving Derry for an internship to New York. Money for a high-speed train, a ticket which cost three times more expensive than the plane, wasn't at all. So Jen decided to save money and get to Bangor, and there from the airport to fly to New York. The flight will take about the same time as a high-speed train ride. "Are you sure you want to go now?" asked father, as Jennifer has already sat in the car and drove it out of the garage. "Maybe you should wait out the storm?" "It'll be fine, dad", Wright waved, smiling at him. "Here to go something quite nothing." "All right", he sighed, and leaned over to his daughter, who sat behind the wheel, to kiss her cheek goodbye. "Good luck. Call me when you get to the airport.” She nodded and closed the window, gently pressing the gas pedal. The car slowly drove to the roadway and drive away from Derry, yellow headlights illuminating the way. The city was rushing through the window. There were lights everywhere and no one in the streets. Began to drizzle rain, so Jen included "janitors". A pleasant feeling of euphoria did not leave her. The mood was great in such nasty slush. The brunette felt that she was about to start her independent life away from her parents and some stupid obligations. If she initially didn't want to leave father alone in Derry, after a month realized that there is nothing wrong. Jennifer saw how happy he was here. He liked his work and quiet lifestyle. She even didn't interfere in his routine, afraid to break this silence. And now, when the girl left home, he probably will come off in full. He will call his local friends to visit and maybe then be able to find love after a long ten years. Jen really wanted this. Rain gradually intensified, and outside the window began to hear thunder. "Janitors" almost could not cope with the amount of water that continuously flooded the windshield. Jen cursed under his breath, trying to focus on the road. The suburbs of Derry has ended and the car drives on the broad highway along which, every ten meters stood a tall poles with lights and covered the road. But even that didn't help much. Already began a real downpour, and in the sky and then periodically flashed lightning. Jennifer continued to swear under his breath, thinking about what a hell it's like something was trying to keep her in Derry. As if bad weather forced to return back. But to return back already was too far. To Bangor had another half hour of the journey, and machine, to the surprise of the hostess, still driving on the highway without any interruption. It worked almost like new. However, Jen occasionally heard some rattling from under the hood, but it's not enough, for disturbing. Probably some kind of old piece is trying to fall off, but the car was still on the go. Wright quietly concluded that hammering stuff under the hood isn't so important for the operation of the motor. Again rose a strong wind and into the oncoming lane wide highway suddenly a tree fell, breaking a few wires and blocking the path of cars. Several lights immediately went out. A real hurricane started, why Jennifer was seriously scared. She grabbed the phone, which was lying on the passenger seat, and with GPS began to look for the nearest motel or hotel to wait out the storm. The brunette sighed with relief, knowing that the nearest town was quite a bit. Orono was literally one mile off the highway. On the map she immediately found a good hotel, which is located in the center of the village. Throwing the phone to the side, Jennifer turned the steering wheel to the right, and the car turned off the highway. The clock ticked loudly and a unpleasant along with a running "janitors" was terribly annoying her. For an hour drive the mood was spoiled, and the weather outside continued to rage. The machine arrived in Orono and rushed to the three star hotel, which girl planned to wait out the hurricane. However, inside something suggested that she would have to stay in the hotel for the night, because such a storm is unlikely to end in a couple of hours. On top of that, the tank ran out of gas, and the knock in the hood intensified of the car. Coupled with the "wipers" and the hours, too, began to irritate Jennifer. She exhaled with relief, noticing the right sign. Finally, you can take a breath and freshen up, thought the brunette. The car drove into the hotel territory stopping at the entrance. To the surprise of Jen, to the car ran over the doorman with an umbrella and kindly opened the car door for her, holding out his hand. The girl used the help and, having grabbed a bag, together with the man ran in a spacious warm hotel. Even having been on the street just couple of minutes, Wright managed get wet. "Did you reserve a room, miss?"- asked the doorman, removing the umbrella. "No, I would only..." she began her long story, but was interrupted. "We have affordable rooms available. Go to the reception", the young man smiled at her friendly and returned to the front door. Jennifer blinked, staying in a light stupor a few seconds and then followed his advice. The girl immediately looked around. She stood in the middle of a spacious living room, done in warm Reds and golds. For a three-star hotel, the place looked quite good. Under the white ceiling hung a magnificent chandelier, and the floor was parquet and carpets. To the right of the entrance there was an area for tourists, where there were small sofas and chairs with coffee tables. Even now, at nine o'clock in the evening, it was crowded. All sat in phones or watched TV, or read books. To the left of the entrance was a small shop with Souvenirs and other trinkets that would remind you of the arrival at the hotel and Orono. In front of the entrance there is a reception, to which Jen after a couple of minutes of inspection of the lobby confidently went. The same young girl as Wright stood behind the reception and is already warmly smiled at her. Jennifer uneasily smiled and pressed the little call tweaked for the whole hall and attracting the attention of some visitors of the hotel. "Sorry. I always wanted to do that", honestly admitted the brunette. "Good evening. Can I help you?"- politely asked the administrator, pushing the loud bell to the side, away from the new visitor. "I need a cheap room for one night", Jennifer said in a slightly husky voice, but immediately cleared her throat. "Double or single?" "Do you see anyone else here besides me?" said the girl quipped, propping head with hand. The administrator nodded and buried her nose in a computer monitor, starting to look for a vacant room. Jennifer again began to explore the hall, suddenly felt someone looking at her. She tried to find this man among the campers, and her attention was attracted by a young man who immediately looked away. From afar, she could not really see him, so the brunette smiled and turned back to the administrator. "We have rooms from the fifth to the eleventh floor. They all cost 150 $ a night." Jennifer nodded and, selecting a room on the ninth floor, with a backpack and a keycard walked quietly toward the elevator, located at the end of the corridor. Clicking on the call button, she turned round and again looked at the hall. The feeling that someone watched closely, not left her. Elevator arrived, and she confidently set foot in a spacious cabin. * * * As soon as there was an unpleasant ringing at the reception, he immediately distracted from the boring book and looked at the new guest of the hotel. Imagine his surprise when he saw a young girl of twenty-five, soaking wet from the rain and like a child smiling to the administrator. She looked as pitiful as a kitten who was thrown out on the street. Wet black hair stuck to a pretty dark face with freckles, and blue eyes began to explore the luxurious hall. Inside slowly grew so familiar feeling of hunger: still, he has not eaten for several days, and maybe this person is quite suitable for dinner. In his head began to mature brilliant plan to lure another victim, which eventually should end with a good dinner. On his mouth smug smile appeared. However, it instantly disappeared from the face, he took notice how the girl managed to track down his gaze. Only now he realized that he indecently staring at her thinking through every paragraph of his cunning plan. The stranger received a keycard and quickly went to the elevators. He never took his eyes off her. Probably should have found out what floor her room was on. Right now it was worth getting up and catching up to get acquainted and instantly penetrate the unprotected human mind. But he didn't do it. Something stopped, and, dissatisfied with growling to himself, as he buried back into the book. "Mr. Grey", said the doorman, touching his shoulder. "Yes?" "Dinner will be in half an hour. You asked for a warned", explained the hotel employee, and he nodded in response. "The new guests will also be at the dinner?" the left corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk. A man in red uniform followed Grey's gaze, noticing a black-haired girl near the elevators. He smiled contentedly, realizing the true intentions of a wealthy guest of the hotel. "I think so. I can tell her to go down to the restaurant for dinner." "Don't say anything," he waved, drawing attention to the book again. "If she wants, she will come." The doorman nodded and left, continuing his work. * * * Jennifer, taking off her wet clothes, threw on the shoulders of a bathrobe that was in the room. She sat down on a soft double bed, picking up the phone and immediately wrote to his father that she stayed the night in the hotel to wait out the raging hurricane. The answer wasn't long in coming. She smiled, rejoicing that forced dad not to worry. A cozy room with a great view from the window of at a small Orono pleasantly relaxed. The room was warm and dry. The rain outside the window poured like a bucket, the wind howled, and bright flashes of lightning periodically repeated with deafening thunder. It seemed that the hurricane would sweep away everything in its path, and even this is a temporary shelter for Jen. Thoughts about the trip to New York warms the soul, and the dream gradually took possession of the mind. The brunette did not mind to disconnect right now. She don't have to go anywhere anyway. She closed her eyes, making herself comfortable in bed, and preparing to plunge into the Kingdom of Morpheus, but a loud knock on the door disturbed her calm. Jen jumped out of bed and pulling on the face of his most polite smile, already opened the door. On the threshold stood one of the porters of the hotel. His an important kind of a long embarrassed the girl. "What can I help?" she asked, coughing softly in her palm. "Miss Wright, come down to our restaurant for dinner," a smirk appeared on the old man's face and he walked slowly back to the elevators. "Dinner? At half past eleven in the night?" said Jen, looking out into the corridor. "Is that necessary?" "Your dinner has already been paid." The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise, not understanding anything. Was liked her the doorman at the entrance or to the girl-administrator at the reception that some of them decided to pay for her dinner at the restaurant? In any case, Wright was not a fool and miss this opportunity - to eat for free - certainly not going. Slamming the door in the room, the brunette pulled out of the bag dry clothes: regular jeans and a decent white sweater. Looking at the reflection in the mirror, Jen appreciated her appearance: for a restaurant, of course, it was no good. Her black hair still not fully dry, slightly curled and fluffed. She smoothed them over and sprayed them with varnish to avoid sticking out in different directions. Make up the lashes mascara and highlighting the eyes with eyeliner, Jen smiled to herself. Now she can go to a restaurant, she thought. By taking over phone and the keycard, Wright locked the door and go to elevators. In the spacious cabin, except her, went down an old man she didn't looked. The stomach growled for the whole Elevator, causing the girl's cheeks suddenly acquired a pinkish hue. She heard the old man burst out laughing. Finally the cabin was on the first floor, and Jen hopped out of the elevator, stepping confidently in the direction of the restaurant. Before it opened doors, and she again felt, that proved in some very expensive hotel, not in the usual with three stars. Maybe this place has struggled hard to get two more stars to raise the prices of all its services? Stepping on the threshold of a large hall, Jennifer unwittingly opened his mouth. Perhaps, in such places she has visited extremely rarely. Money never be enough for this. The room was slightly dimmed light, and each of the white tables were compact lamps. Somewhere in the background played nice classical music, and the number of people forced Jen to doubt that she was in a small town of Orono. Can be, it all of this dream? Anyway, have this dream a very good start, thought the girl, and sat down at a free table. To her immediately the waiter came, saying that dinner tonight at the expense of the restaurant. Flattered by such attention, Jen smiled and shyly took the menu. While she was choosing her dishes, the waiter filled the empty glass with dry white wine. The brunette looked through the prices of food, realizing that she was very lucky. In her purse was not half of the money for which it would be possible to order at least one dish. "Empty place?" suddenly a pleasant male voice rang out over her ear, and Jen was immediately distracted from the menu. The tall young man smiled at her amiably. His dark brown hair was perfectly combed, black suit emphasized broad shoulders and at the same time terribly beautiful thinness. Large gray-green eyes slowly studied her neat snub nose, nice cheekbones, and plump lips that were meant for kissing. Jennifer blushing, suddenly understanding, that sees in him very similar traits with its former classmate Roy. She swallowed and turned around, looking around. Not wrong by any chance this handsome? All this must be a dream, again thought Jen, embarrassed stronger. "Uh, aren't you at the wrong table?" voiced his thoughts out loud the girl. "No", now the smile on his face was two times more charming. "Can I sit?" "Yup. Please", mumbled red as a lobster Jen nervously he picked up the glass and drank deeply. The man boldly sat down opposite, his hands folded in the lock on the table. He continued to study Jennifer, without ceasing to smile mysteriously. From such turn of events the head of the girl literally went dizzy. She was in a panic, not knowing how to behave with a person who is in financial position stood clearly above her. "And what made you sit at my table? Looking for a one-night stand? So I told you right away that I had the wrong table..." immediately quipped the brunette finally looking into the large eyes in front. "I can't just acquaint with you?" sprinkled with laughter handsome, leaning back in his chair. "For some reason, people, as soon as they find out about my wealth, immediately try to lick my ass. This is terribly annoying, especially if it’s done by females. I hope you're not like that." Jennifer chuckled, shaking her head. She's certainly not the one he meant. Dreams of a rich prince on a white horse or a white Maserati, no matter what, never visited Wright's head. Girl perfectly understood, what wants from life. And these plans certainly never had to "find a rich handsome guy to hang around his neck for the rest of her days." "What's your name?" continued guy. "Jennifer", she introduced herself, and thought that he looks an awful lot like Roy and it doesn't let her rest. "I'm Robert Grey. Nice to meet you, Jen." The girl was surprised, as he forcefully cut her name without even asking permission. And it's on the fifth minute of the meet! On Robert's face appeared again smile, but this time it was something dangerous and a little frightening. However, the brunette did not attach much importance to this. After all, she still thought that was fast asleep in my room, fantasizing about Roy, that he suddenly became fabulously rich prince. "It was quite crazy!" flashed in the girl's head, which barely withstood the gaze of the green eyes opposite. "You know, you're terribly similar to one of my friends", couldn't resist, honestly admitted Jennifer, when the waiter came to the table. "Really?" willfully surprised Robert did the ordering for both of them. "Yeah. One in one virtually. Maybe you're his lost twin brother." sneered Wright, what caused another chuckle of a mystery man. After a few minutes of silence, she added awkwardly, "It's nice to meet you too, Robert." "Just call me Rob." He watched as Jennifer looked away sheepishly and smiled. A strand of black hair she gently brushed behind her ear and reached for a glass of wine. Behind her was damn interesting to watch, and madly tossing of thoughts in her head made him difficult to know more about her. Before Robert Grey, Jen was just an open book, which he silently read, learning more and more details of her life and not forgetting to talk to her aloud, otherwise a long silence would have aroused suspicion. It's a pity she'll never know who he really is, thought Grey. Although carry on a conversation with his next victim, oddly enough, was very interesting. Perhaps the massacre of Jennifer Wright should not be rushed. On the lips of men again appeared sinister grin. It will be a small and exciting game. Definitely.

#fanfiction #fanfics #my fanfic #space dementi #jennifer x robert #robert grey x reader #robert grey #pennywise #pennywise x reader #it #it movie 2017 #jenniwise #jennifer wright #my character #megan fox #bill skarsgard #love #romantic #art #my art #otp

[wolfdancer333]

Rain Trolls Human AU Prompt

[Prompt – Imagine your OTP getting stuck in the rain. Person A wants to kiss Person B like in the movies, Person B just wants to go home cause they’re cold and miserable, they let Person A kiss them quickly anyway.] - Okay so I deviated a wee bit from the prompt, but not much! ;) This is a joint sort of piece with @duskblue-art! We’re doing this writing prompt thing and so, hers and mine were born. ;) Anyone else wanna give it a shot? 

Like most people, Branch hated Mondays. Actually, he hated everyday equally but Mondays really drove him up the wall. Why? Well, it wasn’t just Mondays, it was this particular Monday in late June. He stared at the steel bars of the large gate, eyes blank, and determined he really shouldn’t have come. He hadn’t visited her in 2 years what was the point in visiting now? But something compelled the tall, black haired man to shoulder open the gate and step onto the familiar gravel path. The gate squeaked closed behind him and he lifted his head back to look at the cloudy, gray sky with a glare.

Even the fucking weather was against him! If there was anything Branch hated more than Monday, it was rain. Rain caused people to get sick! Well, actually, the stupidity of people caused people to get sick….But it was the rain that seeped into their skin and stole their warmth like a dwindling flame. It was rain that caused depression, forcing someone to stay inside until they lost their minds. Branch scowled as he jerked the hood of his hoodie up above his big ears and stuffed his hands into the middle pocket, slouching forward along the path he didn’t even need to see. He had walked it so many times, he couldn’t forget it.

No matter how hard he had tried.

He stared around the desolate, empty hills that held nothing but silence. Silence and the smell of the grass as it prepared for rain and did Branch mention he hates rain? He kicked a large pebble off the path and sadistically grinned when he heard a bird chirp in annoyance. He walked steadily, letting his eyes rove the place he had spent countless days – and nights, though the patrols never knew about those – in his childhood.

A light, foggy mist tickled the ground but Branch just kept walking. The trees were lush and green creating a serene scene that hid the dark, morbidity of the actual truth. This place was anything but serene. He clenched his hands into fists so hard he felt his nails break the fragile skin of his palm. This place was horrible with it’s green trees, rolling hills, fountain in the dead centre that the children usually played in, and the scattered benches where he remembered spending days licking ice cream cones with –

Nope, fuck, not going down that road, not today! But even though he assured himself, the flash of pink hair and magenta eyes haunted him down that gravel path until he veered off to the right, off the path and towards the largest, oldest oak tree in the entire park.

He felt the blood pooling in his fists and with blank, pain-etched eyes, Branch bent slowly to the ground. He lifted a bloodied hand out to touch the worn, cold gray stone, whispering, “Hi Grandma.”

A light, cool breeze wafted through the park-cemetery and ruffled Branch’s black locks. If he wasn’t a pessimistic dickhead he could let himself believe that the wind was his Grandma’s hand on his head, like she used to do when he was younger, when he was happier…..But he was a pessimistic dickhead so he didn’t dare believe his grandma was anything but dead, dead, dead. Dead as the day the 14 year old watched her be slowly lowered into this very plot. The day his soul faded to an empty gray and the rain never stopped falling inside his heart.

It rained the day she died. It rained the day he buried her. It was about to rain now the first time he came back to this fucking, stupid piece-of-crap town to visit her in over 12 years. Branch couldn’t escape the rain, he couldn’t escape it’s cold grip on him, and with a roar, he slammed his fist into the softened Earth. Then again. And again. Until he couldn’t stop, even when his knuckles throbbed and he was cursing with every hit. Not even when he felt the snake-like mist wrap around his body, white and cool, and even when the gray clouds darkened.

He collapsed, finally, onto his knees with tightly closed ice blue eyes and a firmly clasped jaw. He could hear his teeth rubbing together and his hands couldn’t unclench from the fists. For a moment, he sat there, breathing heavily through his nostrils, eyes closed tight and jaw grinding.

She’s gone Branch, get the fuck over it. She’s gone….And it’s all your fault.

There were so many emotions building up inside him and when he threw his head back, he let out a loud roar of pain before his eyes fell to that cold stone. Cold. His grandma had always been warm, happy, smiling. She didn’t deserve to be in that plot of Earth with that horrible gray reminder all that was left of her. It should have been Branch in that hole. It should have been….! But it wasn’t and Branch finally felt the hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

“Well, fuck. Not like I’m ever coming back here anyway….This is it Grandma. I’m never coming back, so what’s a few fucking tears from your worthless grandson, huh?”

And then they weren’t just tears. Branch felt his heart leap into his throat and the sobs that tore from his vocal folds were ones of a deep, soul-aching pain. But the park-cemetery – who even made a park and cemetery the same thing!? - was empty. No one was there to hear the shattering soul or the broken heart and to be honest, Branch was fucking grateful. As soon as his sobs tore free, he heard the thunder echoing his own sounds.

He stared with blurry eyes at the writing on the stone and let his clenched hands slowly unfurl.

“Grandma” Rosiepuff

June 24, 1926 – June 24, 2018

A Grandmother to all of Troll Village.

She will be dearly missed.

Rest beneath the boughs of the Troll Tree,

And always find your way back.

He let his now free fingers glide over the etched words of the date of her death. As if thrown back in time, Branch was lost to his own memories of that day.

It was her birthday. It was raining. And stupid fucking Branch had to go and forget his gift at school in his fucking locker. He couldn’t have waited until tomorrow. He wanted to show her the gift, show her he loved her like she loved him, show her he was grateful for her. He remembered begging her - “Please, Grams? If it’s not on your birthday, it doesn’t get count.” - and he remembered her voice, still so clear after so many years - “Okay Branch! Let’s go. And we can drop by the park and get some ice-cream too, how about that?” And his 14 year old response, “Do I look like I’m 5 to you?”

The laughter haunted him for moment, swirling around his mind on repeat.

He remembered his cobalt blue raincoat and teal blue boots. He remembered with a snarl the sound of the car starting – a beaten up piece of shit that barely drove and sounded like a train – and the way the tires squealed on the wet pavement as they pulled away. He remembered being in the back and fuck, why did he sit back there? He always sat up front, always. But no, he wanted to be an angsty little fuck and he was too old to sit with his Grandma in the front seat.

Then that stupid song – Eclipse of the Fucking Heart – had come on and the radio was too low for Branch to sing. He wanted her to turn it up, he wanted to sing. But he was a stupid shit and he didn’t stop to think that his 92 Grandma didn’t have the best sight or that she had accidentally run a red light trying to turn the volume up. But no matter what he did or didn’t forget, he knew the one thing he would die remembering: that scream of his name that made him go numb, that still rung in his ears.

The screeching of the truck, their car turning and tossing, and the rain. He remembered the smell of it, overpowering the smell of blood and metal and fire. Branch hadn’t realized he was fisting the grass until he ripped up chunks but his eyes were fast closed and he couldn’t open them, stuck in his memories. Of the sirens and the people. Of seeing his grandma in the front seat and wondering why she wasn’t moving, wondering why the radio was distorted, why there were people shouting and screaming.

He remembered Mayor Peppy’s voice and her voice calling for him. But all he could see was his grandma bent over that steering wheel, her arm out, and with a jolt, he realized her arm, her hand grasping his raincoat, was the only thing holding him in the back seat. He went to move her arm, uttering a quiet grandma, wondering why she wasn’t moving – dead, dead, dead.

He remembered touching her back and she lolled to the side, her side twisted and Branch didn’t notice the blood at first – after all these years, he could still feel it on his hands. All he noticed were those wide open, unseeing eyes as they looked right at him. He remembered shaking her, his voice rising more and more into a wail, before he was jerked from the car and into arms that held him tightly. He cried and sobbed and screamed into that shoulder where pink tresses tickled his nose and the smell of watermelon and cotton candy filled his nostrils.

They had pulled her from the car but Branch knew, holding tight to Poppy’s hand and watching his Grandma’s unmoving body that she was gone. The round Mayor Peppy looked back at him with soft, symphatehtic eyes so much like his daughter and Branch felt the cold gray swallow him whole. Everyone said he didn’t but he did. He killed his grandma. For what? A fucking gift. A song. The rain was dangerous and why the hell would –

“Branch?”

He wasn’t sure if it was the way he froze or the spot she recognized but a moment later, he felt her hand on his shoulder, squeezing firmly. “It’s been a long time, huh bud? Well, for you. I mean, I come here all the time! To say hi! And Dad does too. Actually the whole town does and oh just last year we held a little –“

“I’m not in the mood for your shit today, Poppy!”

She was instantly quiet and Branch didn’t give a fuck. She could go huff off and maybe this time she would get the hint and leave him the hell alone.

“You never responded to my invitations.” Or not.

Branch’s eyes went wide and he turned to look up at her with an exasperated frown. “Those glittery atrocities were from you? Of course they were. Felt, glitter. Should have known; it had Poppy written all over it.”

“It did, really!? I didn’t write –“

He sighed and began to unsteadily rise to his feet. Poppy’s hand on his shoulder fell to his arm and the warmth from her gave him a bit more strength. “Sarcasm. I thought you were getting better when I left….What –“

“Ice-cream!”

He yelped when her grip turned deadly tight and the tiny slip of a girl pulled him, dragging, behind her. He had to lean down slightly so she could even actually reach him and he stared after the girl he had known since they were babies. Her pink locks were longer and thicker. He didn’t even want to know when she had made the felt flower headband that wrapped around her. She was wearing light blue jeans, her usual rainbow sneakers, and a bright pink hoodie.

She was taller now, leaner, but with a smirk he reached up a finger to poke her side. Her squeal made him chuckle and she smacked his finger away. “Yes I’m still ticklish, don’t even Branch! I know your weak spots!”

Branch raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She dragged them down the gravel path with no hesitation. When he saw the familiar parked white truck off to the side of the path, he pulled back and Poppy stopped. Looking back, she must have seen his face because she gripped his arm.

“Branch, buddy, hey it’s okay. It’s just ice-cream. I’ll buy you double chocolate?” Her grin was infuriating.

His blush said everything and she giggled, pulling him up to the ice cream truck and he frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. He saw the quickly moving, darkening clouds as the man in the truck prepared their orders – he didn’t need to listen to know what she had ordered: double chocolate for him with two strawberries on top and a rainbow ice cream with sprinkles, gummi bears, and three pumps of strawberry and caramel sauces – and Branch’s mouth tilted downwards. It was going to rain.

As soon as Poppy had their orders in hand, Branch ushered her along and barely giving her enough time to pay the guy before she was pattering behind him. Branch kept a close watch on the sky as he herded them towards the sheltered gazebo next to the fountain in the middle of the park.

“Uh, Branch…..”

At her wide eyes, he followed her gaze to a couple of feet behind them just in time to see the sheets of rain falling onto Troll Town. With a curse, he grabbed her arm gently and pulled her along, the both of them racing towards the gazebo. Poppy’s giggles made him shout incredulously, “We’re about to be pelted by a huge ass rain storm and you’re laughing!?”

“I love the rain!”

As soon as they were inside the gazebo, Branch leaned over his knees, panting, and he heard Poppy settling down onto the stone floor of the gazebo. It was circular and not very big but he desperately looked anywhere but at her as he straightened up. He would rather fucking stand than sit that close to her. But then she said the taboo words, “I guess I’ll have to eat this double chocolate ice-cream all by myself then….”

“You get your fingers off my ice-cream.”

With a flop, he was sitting next to her, nestling out the storm as he grabbed his ice-cream and a spoon she held out to him, shovelling in a few mouthfuls with a glare. Poppy only grinned and settled against him, their legs laid out in front of them and their arms touching. He had almost forgotten how she smelled but there was no way to get rid of the imprint of her now. Her sweet scent had occupied one too many of his dreams as a teen and with a flush, he remembered his grand declaration to Poppy in front of her Dad and his Grandma, “One day, Poppy and I are gonna get married!”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was scarfing down her concoction with a speed that had him feeling sick and he set his ice-cream down, no longer feeling the gooey, cold treat. He pulled one knee up to his chest and watched the falling rain. Everything was soaked. Water dripped and poured from every crevice, crack, and hole. The trees were glittering and Branch could see the heavy drops hitting the ground with a visible pop.

“Do you ever just wanna go back sometimes? To when we were kids?”

Branch jumped, surprised to hear the soft tone of her voice. Poppy wasn’t ever quiet. “No, why the fuck would I want that?”

She only continued to stare out at the rain, her head cocked to the side, but he was thankful – no, not thankful, not thankful!! - he didn’t see any sadness on her features. She was too beau – Okay no more ice-cream, the sweetness was making him delirious.

“We knew what we wanted back then, and….” She smiled softly. “And it was easier to get it. To know that we wanted it.”

Branch was confused. Poppy confused him, a lot – okay, all the time – but this was new. This was a contemplative Poppy. And contemplative Poppy he didn’t know how to deal with so he coughed awkwardly and tried to give her the best advice he could. “Nothing’s changed. It’s just what you want has changed. And it’s become harder to get what you wanted.”

Poppy blinked and then asked him, bluntly and causing his head to reel, “Why didn’t you accept my invitations?”

Branch opened and closed his mouth, trying to say something, anything, but what could he say? The truth: I never came to a single one of your parties or reunions or what the fuck nots because I’m an asshole? Yeah he could say that….Glancing at her, his breath caught. She was staring rather softly at the rain, almost forlorn but not quite, and her smile was not the beaming grin he was used to. This smile was gentle, lilting, and not at all the rainbows and cupcakes girl he remembered leaving behind.

“I kept them all.”

WHAT!? Branch paused, frozen, eyes wide. He did NOT just say that!? And not to Poppy! Oh fuck! So he just admitted to the girl he had loved since he opened his eyes that he kept all 12 year invitations – something close to like 800 of them, but he definitely wasn’t counting! - and she was silent. Was that good or bad?

“Hey Branch….Do you still hate the rain?”

His mind stopped working and his heart dropped to his feet. He looked out at the falling drops and remembered his Grandma, remembered the screaming between him and the girl next to him, soaked, and tears pouring from her eyes as he walked out of Troll Town for the last time. That had been so long ago. And now, she wanted answers. Was he ready to give them to her?

“Yeah.” He answered softly, afraid his voice would crack.

As he saw the rain beginning lighten up, Branch began to stand as he told the girl he loved for a second time, “Well, it was great. But I gotta go back to Bergan Town now. Have a great life, Poppy.”

Rain or not, he was getting the fuck out of there before he did something stupid! But he was  rooted to the spot when he had just reached the edge of the gazebo and Poppy threw herself out and into the rain, her arms spread wide to keep him from running. With a snarl, he yanked her dripping, shivering form back under the gazebo’s shelter and threw his hoodie over his head with lightning speed. His black tee stuck to his skin but he didn’t care. Using his hoodie, Branch hurriedly dabbed at Poppy’s wet form.

He couldn’t help the angry bite, “Why did you do that for!? You’re gonna get sick, Poppy, for fucks sake!”

She said nothing but only shivered and it wasn’t until he finally looked down and met her eyes that the world stopped spinning.

The first thing he registered was that the rain was still falling. He could hear it’s familiar, yet much softer, pitter-patter as it hit the ground. The second thing he registered were the cold, wet hands gripping his cheeks and the bottom of his jaw. The third most unbelievable and heart pounding thing were the soft, warm lips pressed against his own. It took a total deduction of 2 seconds before Branch groaned – he had lost the war a long time ago – and grabbed Poppy’s hips, bringing her flush against him.

And he titled his head, kissing her deeper and she responded by stroking her thumbs over his cheek bones. He never noticed when the sun started breaking through the clouds or the gentle rain slowly fading to nothing. He never noticed his hoodie drop from Poppy’s shoulders to the floor. All he could feel was her and when she finally pulled away, leaving a hairs breadth between them, he finally opened his eyes to the Sun, her smile all cupcakes and rainbows and happiness.

“What about now?”

Her breathless question stirred him to life and the gray rain clouds finally, years later, fled from that teen boy’s eyes. Branch smiled, pure and wide, and brought an arm around her waist to lift her slightly off the ground. Her eyes went wide and she squeaked, wrapping her arms around his neck as their lips grazed each other’s gently.

Branch didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. She already knew. With a desperation he hadn’t known until now, Branch leaned down that last gap and brought his lips to hers in a firm, unyielding kiss. His happiness had never been inside him. It had always been with the pink-haired girl who was now kissing him with everything she had. And yeah, okay, so maybe the rain wasn’t that bad and maybe he could learn to love it after all.

#trolls #dreamworks animation #dreamworks #fanfic #angst #so sorry #what have i created #My poor branch #poppy being poppy #broppy #I don't think I can handle your past branch #lil beans #fluff

[felicia-parker]

If your still doing One Word Prompts: number 40 with WonderBat. Love your writing BTW🤗

(Thank you sweet darling!) #40 Ephemeral 

A love like his is ephemeral. Diana knows it will be devastatingly short as his mortal life ticks on and on while she never fades in the afterlight of battle. Even so, it doesn’t stop her from looking at him now, sitting on the edge of an old roof with a menacing silhouette meant to strike fear into the hearts of the unworthy. Lightning flashes in the distance, illuminating the dark lines of his face for a split second before he’s back to bathing in darkness. Diana lands softly next to him, battle worn boots barely making a sound but he knows she is there. He always knows.

“You’re a little far from your Island,” Bruce’s voice is gruff towards the Amazon, but she simply shrugs a single shoulder to him.

“I could not leave for Themyscira without saying a few farewells.” She speaks like this is the most natural thing in the world. For her to come and say goodbye, like they’re old friends set on a course to never meet again and it’s something she finds, she cannot stand to think of.

“Princess.”

Diana turns to face him at the sound of that nickname he so loves to whisper in her direction when no one is too close to hear, to hold it over his head. The mysterious Gotham Bat has a soft spot for wayward youths and an Amazon Princess. As she turns she finds he’s no longer in the same place. There’s nothing more than an empty place where he once crouched. There’s a light on in the sky. It’s faded against the clouds, a symbol that matches the one on his chest and she smiles softly, the tentative taste of a potential battle on her tongue. However, instead of following the light, he’s still there with her.

A gloved hand gently plays with a rogue curl of her snarled hair, finger gently twisting around it before pulling away. The curl bounces softly, brushes her cheek and she finds herself turning her head over to meet the sharp edge of a black cowl, “Bruce,” She breathes out his name despite the suit he wears. After all he’s still soft under all those layers of kevlar and protection.

Her nose touches the edge of his exposed cheek and listens as he takes a sharp inhale, “Diana,” Her name is almost a whisper on his lips and she wants to steal it away, make like a thief in the night with a devastating kiss goodbye.

“I have to go,” Bruce’s voice is almost strained and thunder claps overhead.

“So must I.”

A moment of utter silence ticks between them before the rain begins a spattering mess across the city. It comes down in heavy sheets but Diana refuses to move as it spills over her cheeks and falls into the crease of her lips. The taste of rain coats her tongue just before he leans in just enough. Stubble scratches her jaw and then she feels the warmth of his lips and just like that it’s over.

He takes off, leaving her on the building as the sirens echo in the distance.

His city needs him and her people need her.

“Goodbye Bruce,” Diana whispers.SEND ME A # AND AN OTP

#Wonderbat #Bruce x Diana #My Writing

[crest-of-courage]

The Lover Of The Sun

So, actually I wanted to fit this into the Digimon OTP Week somehow, but since this is not an AU, I think I’m just gonna post it like this :D I also really wanna give a very, very big thank you for the likes, reblogs and lovely comments on my last little fic! I can’t tell you how happy they made me! ♥

This is honestly really cheesy, but somehow most of it had been stuck in my head for some time now. It’s basically Yamato trying to explain his feelings for Taichi in some letter kind of way several years after their first adventures in the Digital World.

Pairing: Taito/TaiYama/Taichi Yagami x Yamato Ishida

Word Count: 1043

Also available on: AO3 / Fanfiction.net

Summary: 

“Taichi Yagami. Being with you is like being too close to the sun but never getting burned. There’s no bad ending with you; I’m no Icarus. I’m no fool. I know the risk I’m taking with you.Being with you is like falling into another world, only to come out with the best memories you have ever made in your life, even if tears won’t stop spilling on still baby-fat covered cheeks.”

Or: Yamato tries to put his feelings for Taichi into words.

-

Most people would argue that you don’t deserve to have poems written about you.

You and your constant dirt-streaked face.

You and your obscene appetite and your terrible jokes.

How can someone think of you when they write sultry, romantic poetry; sheets dripping with bad rhymes and forced words?

I can tell you that just 8 years prior, I would have been among those not wasting a thought about you.

The only thing I would have wanted to write to you back then were letters to tell you to leave me the fuck alone.

You and your stupid no-care-in-the-world-grin.

Constantly asking me to join your ridiculous football games, even though you knew I couldn’t hit a ball straight if my life depended on it.

I hated you, because you were not even trying, but you were everything I wanted to be.

Smart, popular, happy, courageous.

Guess your crest choose you for a reason, didn’t it?

But I don’t think even you knew to what extent they would force the courage out of you.

Protecting a group of 8 Chosen Children, proud to be who they were, but scared to death by the wild forests, the endless wastelands and the amount of fear that outgrew itself day after day.

But you kept us together.

Who else but you?

Here is a confession, Taichi Yagami.

I was sure you would drop me the second we got out of this hellish dreamworld.

Pretend that the bond between us didn’t exist; as if we didn’t let two Angels shoot us with their arrows, trusting each other, holding on to each other.

But you didn’t.

Quite the contrary.

Suddenly, you declared me your best friend.

You rode your bike to my house every morning, picked me up for school.

Ignored the expressions on everyone’s faces when they saw The Golden Boy suddenly hanging out with Mr. Lonesome Wolf.

Why would you to that to yourself, I wondered.

I don’t know if you understand, Taichi Yagami.

You are the embodiment of flawed perfection.

You are loud and annoying and tactless and insensitive and bratty and hotheaded and stubborn.

You are brave and kind and honest and loving and fearless and protective and beautiful.

Beautiful.

Have I ever told you that I think summer forgot about us this year?

Everything I see when I wake up or when we walk home from school or when I go to sleep at night are rain clouds. Dark, thundering – heavy with the promise of the next downpour.

But summer would never forget about you, Taichi Yagami.

It feels like you are the reason for it to come at all.

So the sun gets a chance to see you, to shower your skin with kisses, like a long lost lover would.

Golden Boy, I think the Sun is in love with you.

She didn’t just ask for her place on your crest, but she asked to always be with you.

She’s in your smile, your laugh, your heart.

Everything about you is warm.

I see the downturn of your lips when you can’t see the sun anymore, like you miss her just as much as she misses you when she has to fall for the moon to rise.

If you let me choose, what do you think I would pick?

Obviously the moon.

Look at my Digimon.

Look at how mysterious and brooding I always am.

Isn’t it fitting?

No.

I would always pick her, because at least she understands me.

She understands how deeply I want myself to affect every single part of your life, your soul, your body.

She understands that with all the love comes undeniable jealousy.

Because you are always brighter than any of us will ever be.

And because she makes you happy.

How would we get by without that happiness of yours?

Taichi Yagami, I bet you’re wondering what this is.

I don’t know it myself.

Putting my feelings onto a piece of paper feels like trying to compare the earth to the galaxy.

All of what I have written down is a part of what I’m feeling, but there’s too much I can’t word, too much I can’t tell you. Too much that will stay hidden, like a black hole no one should get too close to, in fear of getting sucked in; in a place with things no one ever wants to see.

I guess I’m not as good with words as I thought I would be, but here goes.

I feel like I ripped my heart out of my rib cage and now I’m wringing its contents onto this sheet, spilling and running and hopefully blurring the words.

Taichi Yagami.

Being with you is like being too close to the sun but never getting burned.

There’s no bad ending with you; I’m no Icarus.

I’m no fool.

I know the risk I’m taking with you.

Being with you is like standing on train tracks, pulse hammering away beneath the skin of your neck, anxiety and adrenalin mixing like a delicious, poisonous cocktail.

Being with you is like crossing a street blind, not knowing when it will all come down and finally hit you so you never get up again.

Being with you is like falling into another world, only to come out with the best memories you have ever made in your life, even if tears won’t stop spilling on still baby-fat covered cheeks.

What is it, is what you will be asking.

What is it what you’re trying to say here?

You know things like this overtax me.

There are too many words, Yama.

But I can’t tell you, Taichi Yagami.

Because if I were to tell you, the words I tried to keep in would break like a dam desperate to hold water so no one drowns.

And everything you would say to them would drown me instead.

Because there is no way you can ever understand, can ever feel the same.

Golden Boy.

You are The Lover of The Sun.

No one would ever forget about you.

You are what taints people, what turns people into Icarus.

I’ve seen it happen before.

And I won’t let you do it to me.

#fic #digimon #digimon adventure #digimon tri #taichi yagami #tai kamiya #yamato ishida #matt ishida #taiyama #taito #chosen children

[ladyhook-blog]

Now that I can breathe again after the CS angsty episode...

... how cool would it be if all the CS shippers joined forces to reunite Killian and Emma?!

*among the clouds in the skies* Cora: WHAT? Damn it, he chose her, how many times do I have to tell you?! I wasn’t betrayed by the pirate on that beanstalk for nothing! Zeus, do something!

Zeus: #*@*$&%£ (Olympian curses, lightnings and thunders) That’s it, I’m shell-phoning Poseidon and ordering him to create some tsunami or something and bring the Nautilus back to f****** Storybrooke! I bloody resurrected that man to bring him back were he belongs and my ship will sail, damn it! I already have the popcorns ready for the wedding, for me’s sake!

Tinkerbell, from wherever she is: I’m in. Already trying to convince Blue to give me fairy dust, it might come in handy. That pirate’s pined enough! 

Widow Lucas: You have my crossbow. 

Leroy: And my pickaxe. I solemnly swear that I won’t be cockblocking those two until they’re coming back from their honeymoon. I didn’t have the heart to do it when they decided to move in together, let alone at their wedding!

Nemo: On my way, guys. Trying to steer the Nautilus back to Storybrooke, but I think I need a portal. In the meantime I’m taking care of our boy Killian here. I just want him to return to his family!

Archie: These are the moments I wish I was a magician instead of a freaking cricket. I freaking lost it when Hook showed me the ring! I just ship Captain Swan. So. Much. All I can do is take care of Emma while you guys work your magic, the girl deserves some happiness... and most of all she deserves that WEDDING RING on her finger! Bring the Captain back, boys!

Zelena: WTF what do you mean the Captain left?! But... the engagement ring?! I’ve been waiting for this moment for ages, FFS! I f****** cursed his luscious lips to make the pirate kiss Emma, and now this?! Rest easy, Emma, my pretty, I can’t let my favourite lovebirds suffer again. Somebody give me the Black Fairy’s wand, I have a portal to open and a pirate to rescue! *wicked grin* And Baby Gold will learn not to mess with my OTP.

Arthur, from the Underworld: Oh no, not this again! My mate separated from his lady love? This just won’t do. Don’t worry, Zeus, I got your message and sent Charon on vacation to Honolulu. There’s no way Hook is coming back to the Underworld before a couple of centuries. 

David: Cough, cough... Excuse me, Arthur, I thought you meant my mate! Whose place is with my daughter! As soon as you find him let me know and I’ll make my son-in-law find his way home, come hell of high water! *sigh* I miss my bro. Hold on, Killian, I... I mean, we will always find you, mate. 

#captain swan #ouat humor

[buskidsburgade]

Stand in the Rain

A/N: Skimmons, brotp or otp you can pick. Three times Jemma has a panic attack after the pod. Trigger warnings for panic attacks and ptsd. 

~1900 words

Read on ao3

I

Her breath comes in sharp, wheezing pants that echo like the clatter of needles against the pristinely white bathroom tiles. High-pitched, uneven, searing in her collapsing chest. The metal shower knobs bite into her palms. They’re turned all the way off, but she feels that if she lets them go, the deluge would crash down on her again.

Jemma doesn’t know how long she’s been curled up on the damp, squishy shower mat. Long enough for her hair to dry in matted clumps that stick to her shoulders, for streaks of soap to crust over in sticky stripes down her arms. She scrambles for purchase, but there is nothing in this room to hold onto. White walls, white sink, white porcelain. Rough blue towels from Walmart, off-brand toothpaste, no pictures, no texts waiting on her phone for her, nothing personal.

She drags in another gulp of air that doesn’t seem to hold any oxygen. It’s water in her lungs, in her mouth. She’s drowning again, she is always drowning, why can’t she stop drowning?

What if Hydra found her out? What if they burst in and find her like this and this is how she dies? Drowning in an empty tub, too afraid to make it through a shower. Her chest is so tight and her stomach churns and her pulse roars in her ears like the surf, like wind as she falls, like –

There are footsteps in the apartment above hers. Someone laughs in the stairwell on the other side of the wall. A door rattles open down the hall. But her door is locked, and the bathroom door is locked, and nobody knows she’s here. Nobody’s coming unless it’s with bullets raining, and she has to keep holding back the deluge or she will drown.

II

She has to keep reminding herself that it’s over. That Agent Morse – Bobbi – saved her, and H.Y.D.R.A. is not going to murder her in her sleep. Probably. And yet, it doesn’t feel over. It doesn’t feel like she’s home. It doesn’t feel like she’s safe.

If she closes her eyes, though, sometimes she will catch familiar scents and know a moment of peace. Skye’s shampoo. Trip’s favorite take-out. The polish Coulson used on Lola. May still buys the same lilac dish soap, and Jemma is concentrating on that and not the sound of water streaming from the faucet as she rinses the mug of tea Fitz hadn’t drunk.

She inhales the scent of lilacs and tries to block out the sound of Trip and Mack and Hunter hooting over video games in the rec room. Trip caught her eye as she lingered in the doorway, trying to find her bearings in this strange place with these strange people. He’d gestured for her to join, but she’d glanced at Mack and shook her head, offering a smile that stretched too tight as she’d retreated down the hall.

She breathes out and pretends not to notice the way Skye skirts around her, grabbing a bowl and a box of cereal and the milk carton and going somewhere else to eat instead of staying in the tiny kitchen with her.

She breathed in and tries to wash Fitz’s voice, demanding an explanation for her disappearance, from her thoughts. Tries to wash away Mack’s hard words, looming height, cutting eyes, turning himself into a human shield in defense of her best friend. Against her.

She breathes out and thinks of Coulson’s hand on her shoulder and May’s relieved eyes and Bobbi standing between her and one of her worst nightmares come to life.

But the water is so loud.

Jemma slams the faucet handle down. The tinny patter of water against the metal basin stops abruptly. She presses the handle down with all her might, leaning into the sink, letting her forearm resting on the lip of the counter bear all her weight. She tries to get a hold on her stuttering breath, tries not to let it echo in the kitchen as it comes high and jagged.

There’s nothing in this room to hold onto. It’s cold and dark and unfamiliar. The mug slips from her fingers and cracks in the sink. She closes her eyes and tries to slow her hammering heart, but everything is spinning. The boys are whooping down the hall and Skye’s loud, boundless laughter reached her from somewhere and there is the ever-present hum of an active base that comes from all around, but no one’s coming . There’s not enough air in her lungs to scream even if she wants to.

Gunshots from the video game ricochet around the kitchen and she feels the whiz of Hydra bullets inches from her cheeks. Their eyes, hungry like wolves, bore into her, their smiles dripping blood. Their stained hands touching her shoulders, her arms, the small of her back. No, this alloy will hold up better … that chemical compound won’t work…I’d like to think I’m on your side . How much damage have her words done by now? How bloody are her lips?

She presses down harder on the handle, but the rushing still fills her ears, and Donnie Gill’s body is crashing into the water and he’s drowning and she can’t breathe.  

III

She should have thought about it but she didn’t. Should have checked the weather. Noticed the pearly gray of the overcast sky. Made an excuse not to go, not risk putting herself here in this position. But she’d been too caught up in the mission, in what she was supposed to do, in what good could come out of her time at Hydra.

She doesn’t think about it until the first raindrop hits her face. Sharp and cold. An electric shock.

She’s kneeling in an alley, waiting for their Hydra target to appear, flash bomb in hand, ready for a drop of the right substance to set it off. Waiting until she sees his face. Skye and Trip and Hunter are in her ears, talking about the mark, talking about the mission. Trip says something and Skye laughs and she doesn’t follow because little shining droplets have started dappling the cement around her and the soft patter is all she can hear.

Her breath snags in her chest.

It’s just rain .

She forces her grip to ease on the delicate glass tube in her fist.

It’s just rain .

Rivulets trickle down her scalp like icy fingers.

It’s not just rain. The sky is bursting open, dropping cubic tons of water on top of them. The air is thick with moisture in her throat. Her heart is pounding hard and she would like to run, to seek shelter, to pull the covers over her head like she did in her hydra apartment the few times thunder rattled the windows, but the weight of all that water pins her where she kneels in the alley.

“Simmons, that our guy?” Hunter’s asking, and she tries to see, tries to squint into the storm, but all that’s there are sheets and sheets of water.

“Simmons?” Trip’s voice and she can’t answer, can’t pry words from her lips for him.

“Simmons, report,” Skye, anxious, concerned.

She can tell them nothing. Cannot ask for help. Cannot wave off their worry. Doesn’t know which she’d do anyway.

“Fuck, it is him - could really use that bomb right about now,” Hunter, breathless, probably leaping into combat.

It wouldn’t work well with the moisture even if she could see which way to throw it. She presses her back to the cold brick wall and drags in breath after breath, listens to the sounds of fighting and the others’ voices, all slowly drowned out by the rush of the rain.

There is nothing to hold onto. Nothing to stop the flood. She’s going to drown here.

Her skin has gone numb from the cold and possibly the hyperventilation when movement catches her eye. She doesn’t turn to look, can’t actually respond at all, but she sees the shape of a person emerging from the mist. And then suddenly Skye is kneeling in front of her, biting her lip anxiously.

“Jemma? Hey, can you hear me?”

Her voice comes from a long way away, but Jemma can hear it. She just can’t say so.

Skye slips her icy fingers into Jemma’s. “You don’t have to say anything, just try to squeeze my fingers if you can hear me, okay?”

Jemma tries. She really does. But it’s like the tether between her brain and body has been cut. She can’t even twitch a finger.

“Okay,” Skye says again, rubs her hands up and down Jemma’s arms as though she’s trying to warm her up. “Okay. It’s gonna be okay, alright? It’s gonna be fine.”

She pulls off her leather jacket and leans forward so she can tent it over both of them. Their faces are inches apart and the water has stopped hitting Jemma’s face and she can feel Skye’s warm breath mingling with her own and this is something to hold onto.

And eventually Jemma starts to thaw. Can move, first just to rub her thumb over the pads of her fingers, then enough to squeeze Skye’s knee, and somehow they stand up, and make it into a coffee shop down the block and the rain still coming down but in the back they can’t hear it over the soft rock and the sound of orders being called and she can take her first real breath in who knows how long.

“Dark Cloud says it’ll let up in ten minutes,” Skye reports. Her jacket is over Jemma’s shoulders and somehow there is a steaming cup of tea pressed between Jemma’s palms. She flips her phone around so Jemma can read the radar herself, see the proof that it’s not going to last forever. “The boys are gonna pick us up once it clears up.”

Jemma nods, tries a sip of the tea, blows out a shaky breath. Her stomach is still tight and her chest is still buzzing, but she can move and she keeps moving to remind herself. Drums her fingers on the cup, scrapes the toe of her shoe over the tile floor, jiggles a knee under the table. The clouds are going to pass and they are not going to drown.

Skye’s watching her. She leans forward, her face like she is going to say something, but then she changes her mind and looks over Jemma’s shoulder at the pastry shelf, leans back again, fidgets with hem of her soaked shirt, then the sugar packets.

“Look,” she says finally, splaying her hands on the table between them. “We don’t have to talk about this here - now - if you don’t want to but… has this… happened before?”

Heat rises to Jemma’s cheeks and her insides squirm and she doesn’t want to do this. But it has been so painfully painfully lonely, and here Skye is offering her a hand, a way out of the isolation of her own head and - she nods, can’t help but nod. Her cheeks burn and she stares down at the top of her cup, and she is probably going to regret that, regret admitting what a mess she’s become -

Skye reaches across the table to pry one of Jemma’s hands loose and her grip is warm and tight.

“We’re gonna work on that,” she says, promises, and Jemma grips her hand back and holds onto that.  

#aosficnet2 #buskidsnet #misformarch #skimmons brotp or otp #Christa is a writer sometimes #brotp: bad girl shenanigans