#she holds harrow's hand she hugs her she kisses her she is REAL and the FIRST PERSON TO EVER PROPERLY TOUCH HER WITH AFFECTION

[eerna]

I just think that............. *gestures wildly to how Harrow experiences attraction* you know??????

#as you could probably tell by my fanart today i am having a Night #this funky repressed nun chose the object of her worship to double as her imaginary gf #she cuddles her she calls her beloved she tries to make a move on her #all completely imaginary of course. she doesn't feel any of that but likes to imagine she can feel it. #the object of her worship is also the death of god the monster he defeated once but couldnt defeat twice who resides in a tom under her home #a tomb harrow herself was conceived at the price of 200 innocent children to keep shut #she is the symbol of harrow's power as a necromancer she is the proof harrow deserves to live even if the price was so horrible #and then there's ianthe who is also a brilliant necromancer. who understands attraction at the level harrow does and uses it against harrow #how the only two times harrow even considered giving in to ianthe was when she was either at the end of her rope and insanely powerless #or when she felt at the top of her game like the powerful necromancer she is supposed to be and somehow isn't anymore #their touching is always threatening and uncomfortable and makes her feel on edge #and then there's gideon who just. has nothing to do with any of that. gideon exists on a completely different level. #she reduces alecto to ''ice lolly bimbo'' and ''big slut'' and ''bullshit dead girlfriend'' without breaking a sweat #she forgives harrow everything. things harrow had no part in and things she had. it doesn't matter she forgives it all #she holds harrow's hand she hugs her she kisses her she is REAL and the FIRST PERSON TO EVER PROPERLY TOUCH HER WITH AFFECTION #and it stuns harrow so much she is incapable of even processing it. she completely shuts down every time. we dont know how she feels aboutit #just. harrow and attraction and desire. holy shit #tlt liveblog

[impalementation]

**succession spoilers**

interesting to compare the handling of the physicality of death in the most recent succession ep with the handling in buffy’s ‘the body’. ‘the body’ is extremely physical. joyce’s corpse opens and closes each act. buffy is the one who has to perform cpr, and sit with her mother’s body in a bag in her living room. she vomits. she cracks a rib. xander punching a wall, the kiss between willow and tara, the hugs the characters exchange in the hospital--the physicality is constant and arresting. (which makes the closing shot of dawn’s hand never quite touching joyce all the more harrowing).

by contrast, we only barely see logan’s body in ‘connor’s wedding’. the siblings are miles away from him. his body is literally in the air, ungrounded. some stranger is performing cpr, not them. and all they can do is listen and demand ineffectually, through the proxy of tom’s usual gormless editorializing. even at the moment of their father’s death--a moment that the grand physicality of mortal existence might touch them--they are insulated from it. even now, they don’t know the price of milk. even death is a penthouse in the sky above the city rabble. even during this most serious of events they can’t quite be what logan might think of as ‘serious people.’ (and even now, of course, it’s hard not to see that distance as mostly logan’s own doing. even now, when death has caught up to him, logan isn’t any more touchable. but in a far different way than dawn with joyce. ‘that’s dad’, says roman, pointing at a chart on a screen.).

nothing is physical except--and here seems to be the glimmering thread of hope throughout the series--in the relationships between the siblings. the various hugs between them, especially the last one between kendall, roman, and shiv. kendall and shiv holding hands. kendall touching roman’s back, roman touching shiv’s. this is one of the only places the physical exists in their lives, and in this episode they express it towards each other more easily, with less irony or pretense, than i think they’ve done at any point so far in the show.

i don’t know what the show will do with that glimmer. whether it will remain tragically nothing more than that, or bittersweetly become more, while still not being enough. or any number of other things. i think the season might be taking the idea of ‘the real’ to a head, after its many depictions of frustrated attempts to access it. (or perhaps i just think that because the concept of ‘the real’ was equally relevant to seasons five and six of buffy, and ‘the body’ was crucial to that subject.) but in terms of how to use mortality in an artistic way, it’s interesting to see two different approaches that are both effective. you can evoke the physical, and ideas associated with it, equally well by leaning into it or leaning away from it.

#btvs #succession

[pepperstories]

Bloopers, Baby

Background: Usual story. Female character introduced into Season 4 as a potential love interest to Eddie Munson. Female character, however, is in fact a life-long friend with Joseph Quinn. Meeting at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art. They have worked together in just about every job they have had. They have always played friends or love interests in their series/movie. Female character is established as being British and a year younger than Joseph Quinn. This is inspired by the blooper reels. Don’t come at me for the lack of Y/N. Don’t come at be for the established sex of the character. My brain can only compute so much. Warnings: Fluff, F&M friendship, implied flirting, kissing, hugging, swearing, established female character, no name given, age verified in description, no REAL spoilers per say. 

Word Count: 1.2k (No proofread. Sue me.)

The set was always lined with cast and crew during takes. On this occasion, Joseph stood with his co-star and friend of 13 years trying to figure out the best way to kiss in front of their colleagues. Although this was nothing new to them, it was always hard to establish a true quality kiss with meaning when there was over 50 people looking on.

Joe stood across from her, his face set in a hard line and the same look mirrored in front of him. “We’ve got this.” She gritted through her teeth. Without the pair knowing, a lone camera was filming the interaction. The squabble of noise around them as everyone rehearsed their own lines and they prepared for theirs. Within a split second, Joe’s face turned to the camera and grabbed his co-star by the waist. He dipped the actress suddenly and started placed sloppy saliva filled kisses all over her face. The howling laughter followed from both his beautiful friend and the co-stars around them as the notorious Duffer Brothers called for a restart and he brought her back to her starting point. Wiping saliva from her face and laughing as he winked directly into the camera. ___________

This scene was supposed to be harrowing. It was supposed to be gentle and loving. She held a dying Eddie in her arms as she prepared herself to cry. The various make-up artists flittering about with her hair and Joe’s bloodstained teeth. The weight of his body heavy on her bent knee’s, she relaxed and tensed her shoulders to prepare for her dramatic howl. He wiggled himself to get comfortable for the scene. The very moment he tells her that he loves her. The very moment he slips away. He had it down to a tee. They had practiced during the script review that week and although the words on the page spoke truth, the pair were infamous for switching lines and improvising. “I don’t think Eddie would say this.” “She should be screaming, not silent crying.” As the set cleared of all unnecessary folk, the pair focused in on their grief. They truly thought to themselves what it would feel like to really lose one another.

“QUIET ON SET.” “Action!” He spluttered his line so perfectly. His dark chocolate eyes staring into her blue ones. He watched the steady stream of hot tears run down her face, mingling with the crusted stage blood and dirt. She sobbed from her chest. Her back aching slightly from holding the weight and heaving the dry sob. “I love you.” He spat slightly, the blood cradling around his mouth and chin. Before she could even utter her line. Before she could improvise and go with it, she spat straight into his face when she sobbed out. A long string of spit from her mouth to the corner of his. An act that rendered Joseph completely useless as he looked horrified into her surprised face. “You just spat in my mouth you dirty mink” He wiped the obvious foam of spit from the corner of his mouth as she brought her hands up to her own. Both Duffer Brothers cutting the scene with a cackle and a “Cut!” “I am so sorry.” Through the tears of laughter this time, Joseph rolled onto his front and mirrored his co-star. His knees bent under his arse as he watched her wide eyed laughter. “We’ve exchanged spit so many times, a wee gob won’t do ye any harm.” She spat out as he shoved her playfully. “That’s definitely one for the blooper reel.” ___________

The Duffer Brothers always made sure to have music on in between takes. The various artists that donned the speaker were just suggestions from the cast and crew. Today was a particularly good day from “tunes”. The various songs from the late 80’s early 90’s played throughout the makeshift sets as the rolling camera caught all cast members dancing to this one particular song. Shania Twain’s- That Don’t Impress Me Much.

The camera catching each cast member in their own routine. The main focus being Joseph and his best friend. Mouthing the words to each other as they sipped their black coffee’s. They swayed their hips and swished their hair about. This was a routine the cast and crew were familiar in. Impromptu dance routines and an easy relief of stress during the longer days. Turning to the camera, the budding Ying to Josephs Yang turned in time for the camera to catch her singing the main line of the song: “That Don’t Impress Me Much.” And nudging her Ray Ban’s onto the bridge of her nose like it was part of the script. ___________

The boat scene was the hardest for all of them. She was always exhausted from being in the water and each time it came to their retake, she would heave a sigh. But today was a good day. Today was Joe Keery’s and Natalia’s diving scene where they were all to follow in. There was a ridiculous amount of goofiness on the boat, but they were ready for the water scenes to be over. As they acted out the scene, each of them impeccably timed and choreographed, she waited her turn next to Joseph. Much to her dismay, the scene was ruined when a splash of water hit the main camera. Pulling his cold and tired best friend to him, he used his body weight to rock the boat. His tight grip around her shoulders was enough to tell her that he was up to no good. “Don’t even think about it.” She warned, a pointed finger a mere inch from his face as she looked back at him. His hot breath puffed in her ear as he laughed. He knew that she knew. They had worked together in so many productions and movies, she knew his tricks and he knew hers. It was clockwork shit. Rocking harder, he lifted her body off the makeshift seat of the prop boat and pulled her full body to the side. A shriek and splash, as well as Josephs manic laughter, was echoing throughout the staged area. A full lung full of water went straight into her mouth but sooner straight back out as she surfaced. The water barely at waist height as she splashed the jokester friend. He simply volleyed her over his shoulder in one quick move and threw her into the large pool of water again. A fair distance to chuck her, her wig sat half on and half off her head as she resurfaced for air. Again, the eruption of laughter could be heard throughout the set as that same lonesome camera caught the moments fans were unable to see.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #fanfiction #Joe Quinn Fanfiction #Eddie Munson Fanfiction #Fluff #Bloopers #Stranger Things #Stranger Things Season 4 #Stranger Thing Season 4 Bloopers

[faeveries]

DUBIOUS MAGIC (1/3)

A snippet from an AU RP with @orionsjester ! Megumi belongs to them :)

Context: A month after going missing, Olvia Sábado is found on the side of the road, on the brink of death. Now discharged from the hospital, she and Megumi try to return to their normal lives. But the guilt felt by both parties is insurmountable, and Olvia gives in and uses a magic necklace to show him what really happened that night.

Words: 657/1499

[PART1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

The door flickers and a hologram-like version of it appears, milky with soft speckles, as if filtered through the moonstone talisman. The not-door swings open, and in comes a pair of not-people in their moonstone light. Megumi spins into the entryway, laughing, carrying a giggling Olvia in his arms.

She erupts into laughter as he peppers her face with kisses. ”I know it’s late, but this is the Blue Moon we’re talking about! Once in a lifetime chance!”

”I would come over regardless,” he hums, earning himself a big smooch on the cheek.

The holographic couple pass by their flesh and bone counterparts, giggling and murmuring and laughing until they disappear behind the sheer curtains leading to the backyard…

…To sit in the grass and watch the moon and stars. To hold hands as a light show unfolds in the sky. To talk about space and stars and wonder does magic exist the same on other planets? and maybe it won’t be magic to them. Megumi knows all these things to be true, knows what happens next in this not-world, because it is exactly what happened the night before she disappeared.

“Olvy, I- I can’t watch this again,” he croaks.

Olvia says nothing. Her grip is steel around his wrist.

Yelling. The holographic couple flickers into the room, Megumi’s expression panicked, Olvia’s glaring.

“No, Olvy, it’s too dangerous!”

“This is the only night we can do this; with the Blue Moon, all the gates are open and closer to our world than they ever will be. It’s- it’s- it’s the only way, and Goddesses know when it’ll happen again.”

“O-Olvy. Olvy. Listen to yourself. Please. You want to-“

He squeaks when she grabs his elbows, eyes boring into his. ”I have had nightmares these past few days. Of you, crumbling to dust in my arms. And all I could do is watch.” Her grip tightens as she clenches her teeth. “It’s—it’s all too real. This is the only way to prevent it from actually happening.”

Tears prick his eyes. “Olvy, please. I can’t lose you.”

Olvia leans in and searches his face for one, harrowing, second, before she releases and steps back, looking away.

”…You’re right, it is dangerous… Let’s take a break, then have some hot cocoa together,” she murmurs.

Megumi sighs. The anxiety is so clear on his face, yet he can’t get himself to voice it. He swallows thickly. “…Okay. Okay.” He sighs again and scrubs his face. ”…Okay, okay… I’m… sorry.” And he leaves, heading towards the bathroom.

”…Not your fault,” she murmurs to his retreating figure.

The door closes behind him, and the vision flickers as a strange sensation tickles the real Megumi’s brain, like a wire disconnecting. Olvia’s grip tightens once more. If he listens, he could hear her breathing heavily.

…Not-Olvy stares at the door a while. Expression slowly draining, drop by drop, until blank. She pushes herself off the couch and enters the kitchen, starting the kettle, grabbing items. A single mug, a single packet. She empties the cocoa mix into the mug, and when the kettle begins to scream at her, the hot water too. She stares into the murky water for a long, long moment… and produces a tiny bottle from her sleeve. One drop, two. Mix it in. Stare at the liquid.

Stare at the door.

When it finally opens, her expression brightens into a sweet smile. Megumi’s face relaxes instantly, and he scoops her up into a tight hug.

”I’m sorry,” he breathes into her hair. ”I’m so sorry, Olvy. But I c-“

”It’s ok, Megs. It’s ok.” She grins and holds up the mug. “Hot cocoa?”

He looks at her with an expression so soft, so full of love. And he takes the mug, takes the sip, and gives it back so she could have some too. ”Tha-“

The sound scarcely leaves his mouth before his eyes roll back and he topples over.

[PART 2]

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing #fantasy #faeveries #faetience #Olvia Sábado

[movedtodykedvonte]

If you’re not busy how bout a headcanon for how the four lords would react to their s/o, a doctor/field medic, somehow healing them of their cadou parasites and returning them to their normal selves

If you can't afford medical treatment just get your doctor S/O to do a quick surgery. It's legal and fun!!

Here's a cut cause this bad boy is long

Alcina Dimitrescu

You two had discussed it and agreed that it needed to be done. The girls would be in constant danger from BSAA/Blue Umbrella if Alcina was still such a strong bio-weapon.

She had worries; would she be weaker? Would she need to worry about her blood disease again? How would she protect her daughters? You assured her that you two would figure it out, that you would never do this if you thought it would do more harm than good.

The girls protested, saying they could handle whatever was thrown at them but Alcina hushed them, explaining that it was for her sake as well. It was only so long until BSAA stopped letting her get away with literal murder, no matter how necessary.

You had explained the most likely and best outcome, that she'd be cured and all the effects reversed, that she'd need regular infusions of blood and may feel weaker. You tried to treat her like a regular patient, the coldness of being a medic, but the worry loomed over you.

It was a quick procedure, the cadou just as it had smoothly integrated with Alcina, had been slipped out, the changes almost just as quick.

Her skin became humanly pale, no longer a porcelain white, wrinkles showing the age she was when infected, her height dwindling. You didn't account for her to wake up as quick as she did and had to dive to catch her as she wobbled of the operating table, not yet used to her smaller size.

"A mirror" "Are you sure, Alcina? Maybe you should-" "I want a mirror now" She was demanding, but you understood how justified that was. You only had a small one for operating on you but it would have to do.

She pulled at her face, a look of disdain as she inspecting the face of a mortal woman instead of an immortal lord. Seeing this you came up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist like you were never able to fully do before, and planted a kiss on her cheek, now noticing how warm it was compared to her previous form

"I look horrid" "You look beautiful" The comment drew a smile from her, but you could still sense the doubt in her.

She stayed in her room for a while, you being the only one allowed entrance to tend her: Infusions, getting her used to human food rather than humans for food. Alcina insisted she fully recovers before her girls saw her as to not incite panic.

It was tough on her to be distant with her girls, but tougher on them to not see her after such a harrowing surgery.

When the girls first saw her it was as if they were interacting with a valuable and fragile vase, none of them wanted to get close in fear of hurting her, but they desperately wanted to inspect their mother.

"I'm not made of paper, an embrace won't kill me." It was lovely seeing them perk up at their mother's usual sass and even more relieving when they practically dove into her arms, bombarding her with questions on how she felt.

There were many things to still discuss, but for now, everyone was happy.

Donna Beneviento

Donna surprisingly brought it up to you first. You were having tea having a calm conversation with Angie for once. The mood felt off for that alone but for the whole day it felt off, now you knew why.

She wanted a normal life with you, one free of the mold and her dependence on her dolls. It was all a crutch and she wanted to start to walk without it.

You asked if she was sure, the dolls, especially Angie, meant so much to her, you didn't want to do it unless she was positively certain

"We've made our mind up, Y/N. We want this." Angie's serious response and Donna's nod were a startling confirmation. You set a date and prepared the tools for the procedure

Before all of that, you set up a party for Donna and Angie, placing all the dolls for one last goodbye. "Surprise!" You pop out with all the dolls, you suspect she knew as the dolls came to life to yell as well but she was crying tears of joy either way.

She said goodbye to all the dolls individually, thanking them for being there for her as she shut down her cadou in each of them. Donna told you that Angie didn't want to go until she had to. You understood completely.

On the day of the procedure, you knelt down to Angie and hugged her. She was always a little bit of a pain to you and she found you a bit dull but in the end, you cared and you were going to miss her rambunctiousness. You spared yourself the tears of a verbal goodbye as you placed her on the operating table next to Donna, she feigned unconscious to mimic her sedated friend.

It was slow and grueling to remove the cadou carefully from her face and skull, you wanted to leave as little scarring as possible. Donna had just stopped wearing the veil and you had no desire to be the reason it came back on

The procedure was no less easy as every amount removed, you noticed Angie appearing even more lifeless.

When it was done, she woke up, her working eye blinking under the bright lights of your operating chambers. She did not address you but immediately turned to Angie. You had not an idea of how she knew she was lying next to her

"Angie?" There was no response and you could see the tears forming as she slowly reached for her best friend, caressing the inanimate face. You took her other hand and squeezed it, before lifting it to your lips and planting a kiss.

Recovering was less physical than mental. Occasionally she'd ask her dolls a question, you'd catch her staring sorrowfully at them as they stared back unblinking. It was even worse when you heard her call for Angie, knowing it was impossible for her to respond.

Sometimes you'd find her staring out the window, holding Angie as she took in the horizon.

"It's difficult... She was always there for me." She stared at Angie, brushing the veil from her face as the setting sun leaked in. You sat next to her, leaning in close so you could support Angie's slumped head... Donna smiled at the action. "But, I suppose there's a lot else for me too." Donna rested her head on your shoulder, now looking at the broad horizon before you both.

Salvatore Moreau

It hurt you like nothing else to see Salvatore live in constant pain and suffering. You had done wonders for the hurt of loneliness but physically he was still in agony.

He has insisted not to burden yourself with him and that he was used to it, but the more he assured you the less you actually felt comforted. It came to a head one day that all he was doing was vomiting. You were sure you saw red at some point

"Stop saying you're fine!" "I'm used to it, Y/N" "Well I'm not!" You were a medic, it had become an instinct to stop people from being in pain, and Moreau made it flare up.

He refused to be operated on, making up excuses or insisting it was not a big deal to him after all these years. Clearly, you could tell it was something else, something he wasn't telling you but he refused to let it slip. It became a strain on your relationship. It felt bad but you had to threaten to leave if he was not going to be honest. He owed you that.

You felt even worse when you found out. "I'm scared it would get worse!" You realized that the last time Moreau was likely on an operating table, it turned him into what he was now. It was beyond inconsiderate to try and force him through it again.

For a while, you dropped it, letting the waters calm... until another vomiting fit happened and you thought you might lose him.

Luckily you didn't and unluckily for Moreau he had to see you're tear-ridden face the whole time, unable to assure you he would be fine due to the wretching. A day later he agreed to let you try.

You were relieved but now it went on to how you were exactly going to do this. You were unsure if removing the cadou would be enough to rid him of the tumors or if you would be on that too, you had no intention to make things worse like he feared.

A while passed as you collected the tools and set up an area in the reservoir to operate, everytime you made progress Moreau strayed farther from the area.

You finally finished and Moreau was off lurking in the waters, much like a child hiding from getting a shot. "Are you ready?" "Yes." "Are you lying?" "Yes." You were happy he found humor in the situation but you needed confidence.

You practically held his hand the whole way to the table, both to keep him from escaping to the water and a half for comforting, his grip did not slip until you had fully sedated him.

The procedure was more difficult than ever expected, the tumors were gelatinous and blocked the way to his cadou. You had to be careful not to burst one as well as not to accidentally paralyze him due to the proximity to his spine. It was slow and meticulous but eventually, you got it all.

Nothing happened. He laid unconscious on the table, cadou thoroughly gone, you made sure... but nothing happened. Did you fail? Was there another one? You pondered the possibilities but quickly stood up as the tumors began to swell, becoming enflamed before one burst, an acidic substance barely missing you and melting part of the floor. As more popped you took cover as not to get burned.

The grotesque sounds of bursting meat slowly faded, becoming less frequent until they stopped, but you waited, ensuring you did not accidentally get splashed by a straggler.

"Y/N?" The sound of your name from a familiar deep but the somehow less nauseous voice made you peer from around your cover, a man all too foreign and all too familiar sat dazed-looking on the table.

"Salvatore?" {Insert your own description of Moreau, I don't want to intrude on anyone's interpretation.} "Y/N!" He immediately tried to get off the table to come to you before you quickly stopped him, remnants of acid a very real danger. You covered a path and made your way to him, stopping at the edge of the table. "Did it work?"

Something about the question seemed laughable as you assumed the feeling would be completely different, but you still pulled a mirror close and let him marvel at a face he had long forgotten.

"Did I make it worse?" It was a snarky remark at his previous fears, probably a little insensitive but at the moment he smiled, suddenly pulling you into your first full kiss in your relationship. "Not at all."

Karl Heisenberg

You were helping him in the factory one day, decommissioning the more specialized soldats at the request of BSAA. You being less tech-oriented focused on the less mechanical soldiers while Karl took on the scrap heavy ones.

Having used some Cadou in them, you had to carefully remove that too, to ensure they would not resurrect after the metal was removed. It took no time for Karl to piece together who else that skill could be used on.

"Make space for me on your schedules, Y/N" He lit a cigar after the sentence, not explaining further. "Excuse me?" "You heard me, sweetheart." He ripped a core from another soldat before putting it on the belt to bring it towards you. You stared in disbelief.

"You want me to remove your cadou?" "Yep." "But I thought BSAA was." "I don't want those dick heads snooping in my body like I'm some labrat. You do it." The conversation was quick and honestly, it should have been expected.

Karl had joked with you before that you could take away his cadou. Just snip and a rip and it'd be done. You explained it wasn't that simple and he would chuckle out an agreement, but you could tell that the jokes had an air of seriousness around them. It had been his goal for a while to reverse what had been done to him

Picking a date was the biggest issue. Karl wanted to do it as soon as possible, get it out and be rid of it. You had to explain you needed time to prepare as the place was delicate and a risk. You knew it was out of excitement and anticipation.

When you finally made time, Karl was on the table before you had even put on gloves or disinfected it. "An eager beaver I see?" You tried to bring the humor Karl often did to scenarios like this, but you could see a sense of series on his face, even the glint of his glasses seemed steeled. "I want every trace of that bitch gone."

You nodded, pulling out the syringe to sedate him as you laid him down on the table. Removing his glasses you looked directly in his eyes, there was a trust in his that made you that much more determined. "You ready?" You asked as a medic protocol. "Just stick me doc." You rolled your eyes as he smirked before relishing in the slight scared look he gave the needle when you lifted it before him

The silence of it all unnerved you. Karl was always making wisecracks or jokes to alleviate the dreary mood of the factory. Having him laying silently before you, face still somehow serious while completely relaxed, made it all the more discomforting.

You worked diligently, careful to find all traces of the cadou and to remove them into a jar you had set aside. It was long but you did it with dutiful ease, Karl had waited so long for this and you must do it right

When it was all finished you took the jar, disgusted at the somehow living organism inside. How could she put this in someone she considered her child. Bitch, was too kind a word Karl used for her. You took the jar to a furnace, throwing it in and watching the thing wriggle frantically before burning to a crisp.

Coming back to the table you found Karl stirring awake, groggily holding himself up on his forearms. "So, how'd it go?" "You tell me?"

Karl looked around the room, his hammer resting in the corner. Focusing on it he waited for the item to float toward him, yet it remained still. After a minute of nothing he stopped, a slow chuckle emerging from him, melding into a proud laugh.

"Well, I'll be damned, Y/N. You've outdone yourself." He began patting himself in search of a cigar. You pulled one from the side table and offered it, snatching it away before he could get a grasp on it. "No smoking until you're fully healed."

He shook his head, chuckling a little more before sitting up and pulling you close. Tilting your head up he locked your lips together. Pulling apart he smiled, "Whatever you say, doc."

I completely forgot that Moreau was a doctor and honestly I should've added something about medical knowledge but its super late and I have a job interview to get up for.

#resident evil 8 #resident evil #resident evil village #re8 #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #dimitrescu daughters #dimitrescu sisters #angie the doll #salvatore moreau #moreau #karl heisenberg #donna beneveinto x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #salvatore moreau x reader #moreau x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #ask #anon #I have a salvatore like human headcanon but i'll keep it to myself

[phoenixyfriend]

Re; Ahsoka and Quinlan being the same age, now I'm picturing Ahsoka, Quinlan, and Rex eventually ending up in a weird sorta thruple where Quinlan comes in and out of the relationship but the door is kinda always open for him? And Rex spends a lot of mornings eyeing the tangle of orange and brown skin on the other side of the bed like he has no idea how he ended up here but he's (mostly) okay with that tbh

Context: Commander Buir in chronological order

YES okay so this is wild to me that people are invested in this but like half the time-travel fics with Ahsoka in the same age-group as Quinlan have me wondering if I should ship them. Let me just. Ho shit.

So, okay, I've explored a lot of possible dynamics but there's something really engaging about how Quinlan, trained as a Shadow before the Sith came back, could react to a War Padawan. Ahsoka isn't really infiltration material yet, she's very much a frontline fighter, but she's got a lot more experience with a kind of consistent dark atmosphere that most Jedi don't. They get exposed to plenty of dark stuff, sure, but not the kind of all-encompassing "this is my life for the last two years" thing that is usually reserved for the long-term field agents like Shadows and Watchmen.

The War Padawans, for all that they were supposed to be just normal Jedi Padawans, were living in the kind of consistently negative environment that's normally experienced by those Knighted Sentinels.

So Ahsoka, while still generally pretty young in these AUs, is a very odd kind of person to be around, because she's spunky and vivacious and snippy and affectionate and snarky and knows how to break every bone in your body from harrowing experience as the only thing standing between death and thousands of brothers.

And Quinlan, I imagine, really likes that about her. She gets it, and she's still an energetic and loving and trying to do her best to be a good person despite everything. He gravitates towards her and she... well, she's not blind. She can tell he's interested. And she's not upset about that.

ANYWAY, ONTO REX

So, Rex is... technically twelve. He hasn't exactly got a whole lot of experience with romance. He is also, up until the point of time-travel, legal property of the Senate and the Jedi Order, which means that Ahsoka, or at least her community, owns him. He was indoctrinated to serve her and that community. She also outranks him, for all that she usually lets him take the lead in the field due to experience. He's older than her physically and maturity-wise, but she's also had a grow-up-faster-than-you-should adolescence, and she has superpowers.

What I'm saying is, the power dynamic is fucked up.

(Unironically I spent hours last night realizing that it balances out a lot more than C*dywan does, which I'm censoring because by god do I not want discourse on this post. I like both ships, and don't want to argue about what's the most problematic. It's Star Wars. The only unproblematic ships are Bail/Breha and Owen/Beru.)

Here's the thing, though, because the main thing people seem to argue here is the age/maturity difference as a problem area:

The age difference in actual time is four years, which is smaller than the two main ships of the franchise (Han/Leia and Padme/Anakin, to be clear). The age difference in maturity is ??? We'll say that the clones started aging normally after they hit twenty, so the age difference in maturity is six years... which is still normal for SW ships.

(This is why I don't have any issues with the ship in a post-O66 context, once they've had a few years to move past the traumas and whatnot. The age stuff all evens out with time, they're a good team, and neither was grooming the other. It's not objectively any more problematic than most SW ships at that point, and I'm okay with that. They deserve to be happy if they want.)

But they get yanked away from all that structure of who owns what, who reports where, who has which rank, who's legally a person in the eyes of the Republic when they end up on Dagobah. Once they've registered when they are, the only remaining complications are:

He grew up in a cultlike environment and was indoctrinated to serve her (but has been replacing that indoctrination with genuine respect and affection for her as a person because they've worked together for two years).

She has superpowers (contextually not a big problem: we see several Force-Sensitive/Non-Sensitive ships that don't consider those powers a complicating element)

He's several years younger than her (canonically less of an issue than it could be: Cut got married and has kids) and has next to no experience with what a normal romance looks like except for hanging out on the edges of whatever the fuck his General has going on with the Senator

She's several years less mature than he is (...something of an issue)

So a lot of this is mostly okay. She feels weird about the fact that she's got more knowledge of romance and all that it entails. He feels weird about the fact that, despite her being older, he looks at her and sees someone that's still a little young, not quite a shiny. Except she is older than him, and he's seen her behead four people in a single move, and they've saved each other's lives more times than either of them can count anymore. He respects her, and the fact that she's babyfaced doesn't change the fact that, in terms of who they are as people and warriors, they're on a level playing field.

She still looks at him and mourns his lost childhood, and he still looks at her and takes a moment to see past the too-big eyes and adolescent proportions.

But they really, really care about each other, and maybe part of them is starting to recognize that there's a bit of a crush before they time-travel, but neither one wants to make a move. There's a lot of baggage on both sides, a lot of "but they're a child" and "but they're (literally vs functionally) below me in the chain of command, I can't take advantage of that" and all that fun stuff. It's the kind of situation where two people circle each other for ages without making a move, because actually making that move is terrifying on account of not knowing whether the other party knows they can say no, on top of the usual "what if it ruins our friendship?" thing.

What happens on Dagobah, though... is very tropey. They're sort of stranded until Ahsoka can fix the ship, and that takes time. The area is also very heavy with the Force, dense and heady with the energy it carries, and it's... actually really not great for Ahsoka. She keeps feeling like she's back on Mortis, and has nightmares from the trigger there, but also keeps hallucinating because she wasn't ready for the thickness of the energy (like Yoda) or still new enough to the Force that she couldn't feel how dense it all was (like Luke). She can't work on the engines as constantly as she'd like to get them out of there, and while Rex is a competent mechanic, he's not as skilled with it as the girl who jumped headfirst into lessons with Anakin.

Rex spends a lot of time holding Ahsoka and wiping her brow with a wet cloth while she's feverish and out of it. Yes we're going full Florence Nightingale romance here, let me have my fun.

They get the communications relay working earlier than the engine, find out the year is wrong, panic a bit. All is well. (It's not, but they're holding it together for now.)

Ahsoka keeps working on the engine when she's lucid. Rex keeps hunting up game and edible plants for them while she does. They cuddle at night, because it's not cold but it is empty of the people they care about, and they kind of want that reassurance of someone they trust and love at their back.

(Morai visits.)

(Daughter shows up in the nightmares, tells Ahsoka that age will not come for her beloved until the time is natural for it. The phrasing is dumb but she does manage to convey that the accelerated aging is no longer an issue, if it even was after they hit adulthood. Ahsoka is relieved.)

And, you know, emotions happen. She takes his hand while they're leaning up against each other. He kisses her forehead while she's having a bad spell. They cook together and tell jokes to keep sane and spar. They hug each other through nightmares and panic attacks. There is much blushing. There is much cuddling.

Once, they kiss.

They break apart, flushing and stammering and being very awkward about the whole thing, and make excuses to leave and panic about the fact that they!! Kissed!!!!!

A couple hours later they find each other again, and have a long and complicated discussion about why they like each other (war makes bedfellows, there's trust and affection and all that fun stuff) and why they're hesitant (age stuff, maturity stuff, prior indoctrination), and make the decision to take it slow. They cuddle, and kiss, and blush a lot because both of them are basically just dumb teens having their first real relationship.

They eventually leave the planet, make it to Coruscant, etc. It takes a bit for anyone except Obi-Wan to realize that something's changed between them. Most people didn't know them before, and Anakin's observation skills are currently at a very low ebb. But they sit together and hold hands, and flirt when they spar, and once or twice people find them kissing (both standard and Keldabe) in a corner while holding hands and then just smiling at each other like loons.

They end up rooming together because nobody has the heart to separate them after hearing about all the war stuff. Like yes attachment's bad, but these two do seem to understand loss of loved ones and recognize that they could lose each other at any time and death is natural and they won't lose their entire shit about it, and if even General Kenobi is anxious as hell about being separated from the people he fought side-by-side with for two years, then maybe it's just... really normal for those two to want each other's company, and everyone can just turn a blind eye to the romance happening.

They share a bed, but they only ever sleep in it. Like, there's some goodnight kisses and cuddles, but everything is very G-rated until they've had time to settle into being true equals instead of just the "well, I guess the power dynamics balance out? Maybe?" of before.

And just... yeah. Rex does not believe that he's in this good of a position whenever he has the time to think about it. He's got a girlfriend! A really pretty, smart, strong, skilled one! Who thinks he's a cool dude! How the fuck did a clone like him manage that? He wasn't even legally a person a year ago, how did he end up in bed with one of the most amazing people he's ever met? He spends multiple nights just staring at her while he tries to fall asleep, asking himself how he got here and just like... marveling at her. She's worth marveling at. He's in love and she's amazing and he has no idea how to handle it at all.

...yeah no I have a lot of feelings now.

#Rexsoka #Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Quinlan Vos #time travel #Commander Buir #Phoenix Posts

[gveret-fic]

I know Kara's usually compared to a puppy or a golden retriever but I always think of her as a particularly kind and gregarious big cat (like a v tame lion or tiger) and now I can't let go of the hc that Kryptonians purr

The first time Kara spends the night is a bit of an accident. She's waiting on the couch while Lena fixes them a drink, and Lena returns to find her head draped over the backrest, mouth gaping open and glasses askew, completely conked out. 

Between the options of getting her to her apartment with a forklift and waking her up, Lena decides to let it lie. In the case of a midnight emergency, she has a secret backup super suit in the office anyway. 

She gently picks the glasses off Kara's face and grabs a pillow from the bedroom. She tucks it beneath Kara's head, and Kara turns her face into it and gives it a good sniff. With dawning horror, Lena realizes she forgot to change the pillowcase. 

Trying to wrest a very soft and teareable item from a slumbering Kryptoinian’s grip is a lost cause, and Lena can do nothing but watch, mortified, as Kara makes a face in her sleep and drags the possibly very stinky pillow from underneath her head to hold it in her arms, and lets out a relieved little sigh. 

Lena is ready to turn away and nurse her embarrassment in private when she hears a strange noise, a sort of soft, interrupted breathing. Does Kara snore? Oh, Lena is going to use this. 

She turns halfway in Kara's direction, closing her eyes and concentrating on the sound. It's quiet and regular with a distinct rise and fall, a low frequency warbling, and it has a strangely soothing quality to it; the more Lena listens, the more she wants to hear, almost like a---

---a purr. Kara, on her couch, clutching Lena's used pillow to her chest, purring. 

Lena flees to her office, filled with a sudden inexplicable energy, face flaming with something that feels, unfortunately, like more than embarrassment.

. 

. 

The second time Kara spends the night is a bit more intentional. 

"Never ever ever?" Kara asks in horror. 

"Well, unless you count boarding school."  

"Obviously I don’t! Mandatory sleep arrangements are not a sleepover, Lena!" 

And so Kara shows up Friday evening at Lena's apartment, equipped with snacks, board games, and two sleeping bags. 

They camp out on the living room floor after many harrowing but obligatory sleepover activities as per Kara’s direction. Kara snuggles into her sleeping bag until only her head is visible, and barely that in its entirety. She smiles at Lena. Over the hum of the fridge and the occasional traffic outside, Lena can hear her start to purr.

Lena wants to ask, wants to reach, wants to touch, but Kara closes her eyes and is out like a light, rolling onto her side, her back to Lena, even as the purring continues.

Lena wonders what it would be like to feel it, to simply reach out and press her hand to Kara’s back, let those powerful vibrations travel up her arm, sense the corporeal manifestation of Kara’s contentment and comfort and ease.

Fuck. How invasive would that be? Lena’s in her own little sleeping bag, Kara in hers, a clear delineation between them. Kara had rolled onto her side, showing Lena her back. She trusts Lena enough to fall asleep in her presence, to---to purr about it.

Lena turns over, curling her hand to her chest, and allows that addictive, peaceful sound to lull her to sleep.

.

.

The seventh time Kara spends the night, Lena just invites her to bed. 

"Come on," she says. "My couch is sick of you. Give the poor thing some space." 

Kara doesn’t always seem entirely at ease in her body, but she sprawls all over Lena’s mattress, linking her arms behind her head, filling Lena’s space with her presence as naturally as if this bed has always been hers. Lena watches her from the corner of her eye as she wriggles a little in the sheets, hugging her pillow in one arm, luxuriating in the simple comfort. She’s magnetic.

Lena debates her options before picking her satin pyjama set and climbing in beside her.

Kara immediately flops onto her side, head propped on her arm, grinning. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Lena has left barely an inch between her body and the edge of the bed. She touches it, a reassurance, a promise. “Oh?” she asks. “Come here often, then?”

Kara leans closer. “I wish,” she says, voice low.

Lena stares at her for a fraction too long, laughs awkwardly to compensate, turns away to turn off the light. “Goodnight, you flirt.”

Kara reaches out and squeezes Lena’s hand in the dark. “Goodnight, Lena.”

.

They fall asleep on opposite sides of the bed. Lena knows this for certain; she checked. She can remember touching the edge of the bed just before falling asleep. But she wakes up---she wakes up with her arm wound around Kara’s belly, Kara’s butt tucked into her groin, Kara’s body vibrating palpably against her own.

Sleep foggy and enamored, Lena reaches an unthinking hand to press directly over Kara’s purring chest.

“Hey,” a muggy voice greets her. Kara turns over onto her back, shoots her a blurry smile.

“Shit.” Lena tries to snatch away her hand only for Kara to grab her arm, keeping her hand against Kara’s chest. The vibrations intensify. “Sorry,” Lena mutters, eyes fixed on her own hand.

Kara grips tighter. “You like it?” she asks, her voice sleep-rough.

Lena swallows. Nods. Denial would be absurd at this point.

“It’s for you,” Kara rasps.

Lena feels her heart in her throat. Her eyes find Kara’s.

“I like your bed,” Kara says, words plain and eyes intense. “I like you.”

Kara’s purring swells and dips with her breath, loud in Lena’s ears, tangible against her skin. Lena puts her weight on the palm braced on Kara’s chest; Kara strains upward in an impressive show of core strength. They meet somewhere in the middle.

Kara kisses sweet and simple, a little sluggish with sleep, still gripping Lena’s forearm. The purring deepens, a low, insistent hum between them; a reassurance, a confession, a gift. Lena turns her head away, overwhelmed. Takes the hand off too.

“What?” Kara sits up further, hand sliding up to grip Lena’s wrist, thumb against her palm. The purring quiets. “What’s wrong?”

I just feel really loved right now, is a thought Lena could never verbally express in a million years.

“Gosh, Lena, are you crying?” Kara digs her thumb into the heel of Lena’s palm. “I’m that bad, huh?”

“The worst,” Lena agrees. Sniffs.

Kara smiles. “Okay. Let me try again? I’m a very good student.” 

Lena wipes a knuckle under her eye. “A real teacher’s cat,” she says.

Kara doesn’t dignify that with a laugh, but she does dignify it with another kiss. Lena slumps forward into her until Kara's back flops back on the bed and her arms come around Lena, physically cocooned within every tactile expression of Kara’s affection.  

Lena has no particular physiological mechanism to showcase her appreciation, so she pours it into the kiss instead.

#supercorp #my fic #(let) #Anonymous

[magalidragon]

n°2 - “Have I already told you how cute you look?”

Thank you fluff Queen!💕

Eeeee! Let us return them to all the world’s a stage with these sweet beans and our favorite douchy Uncle Viserys! Bonus points because I included supportive brother Vis!

2. “Have I already told you how cute you look?”

Romantic One Liner Prompts

There were many things Jon Snow had been able to escape, but this was not one of them. He could get out of red carpet events, interviews, and galas. He could weasel himself out of parent-teacher conferences, playdates, and other various responsibilities that he just felt like at the time were contrary to his mood, his muse, and his creative drive.

This was not one of them.

Dany knew he didn't want to escape the event itself, but the way in which he had to attend the event, that was something he couldn't get out of. He made a fuss, wanting to know how come he couldn't just go as a side character, as the supportive husband, what have you, but nope.

"Have I told you how cute you look?"

He scowled, tugging down the very tight white vest, with its shimmery silver thread, the white pants tucked into tall boots, and accompanying plastic sword. "Not in the last five minutes."

"Well you look so cute. My perfect Prince Charming."

"Mummy!"

She glanced down at her daughter, who was wearing the dragon costume, a bright jade and lime green creation, toddling towards her. She chuckled, kneeling and lifted her baby dragon into her arms, kissing Lyella's sticky cheek. She frowned, taking the lollipop from her. "Where did you get this?"

"Vizzy!"

Ugh, my brother. The villain himself, Sorcerer Dread the Night King-- redundant name-- happened to be hiding away, because he didn't want to be seen in the campy black and red costume of the villain from Princess Periwinkle. She plucked the lollipop from her three-year-old, wagging it at her. "No candy."

Lyella pouted, sticking her tongue out. "Mummy, not Charming."

Jon burst out laughing. "You're not charming!"

"No, you are not Charming." Her words were thick and she pointed, scowling at her father. "Prince Kit."

Dany's brows arched, countering her husband, whose mouth fell slightly. "Ha! She knows your character. You aren't Prince Charming, you're Prince Kit of Catesby. Get it right."

"He's a complete buffoon!"

"He's the comic relief."

Jon huffed, tugging at the tight pants, which conformed very nice to his shapely thighs and his even better arse. He'd forgone the codpiece, although she suggested it for later. He plucked at the spandex fabric, wincing. "Dany! They're going up my arse!"

"It's such a lovely arse."

"It's a children's hospital!"

She laughed. "Don't worry, I'm the only one looking at that bum." She walked by, smacking it and he jumped, but his pupils dilated, a low growl caught in his throat. Her voice dropped, whispering. "And if anyone else does they have me to deal with."

"Yes my Queen."

"Princess!"

Lyella was not wrong there; she was indeed Princess Periwinkle, in the lilac costume, with its yards of sparkling tulle, ribbons, and accessories, making her resemble a disco ball. She had gone all out this time, for the children's hospital's annual fundraising event, a worthy cause to return to Princess Periwinkle. And she managed to convince her husband, child-- that was not difficult at all-- and her brother.

She furrowed her brow. "Where is my brother?"

"Do we really care?" Jon wondered, taking Lyella from her. He sighed at his reflection in the floor-length mirror. "Best get on with it."

"The children thank you for your sacrifice, Prince Kit of Catesby," she laughed, pinching his bum on the way out the door and down the stairs.

At the base of the staircase, near the open door, Davos was waiting with Missandei. She posed for a few candid shots that her best friend took, laughing at the silliness of it all. She hopped off the bottom step, turning and hollered up, hands cupped over her mouth to magnify her voice. "Oi! Get your skinny arse down here Vis!"

"No! Not until I'm high enough!"

"I will come up there and drag you out myself and we both know who the real dragon is in this family!"

A door slammed somewhere in Vis's Wing of Darkness, where no one ventured unless they had all their shots and a death wish. He emerged from the shadows, glowering, his silver hair cut off and sweeping over his forehead in a new style that he'd only gotten because Leylla had found bubblegum and decided to play with it while he'd been passed out. Sadly, the silver tresses had had to go.

It suited him, the short hair, she thought, laughing as he descended in the red and black caped costume, resembling a magician rather than an actual villain. Lyella reached for him. "Vizzy!" she shouted. She simpered. "I love you."

"Ugh," he complained, but it was all for show. He shook his head, disgusted. "I cannot believe I am doing this!"

"Think of the happiness you will be providing to the children," Jon said. He closed his eyes, sighing. "Never mind, that would require you to have a heart."

Not that her brother heard him, as Viserys's eyes had glazed over, dollar signs obviously pulsing from them. He glanced between them both, salivating. "Oh, yes....I like this...I understand now...You both are going to do this on camera, right?"

"No!" they shouted.

Dany punched his shoulder. "It's for charity Vis, not attention. The hospital will put out a press release and some choice photos, but that is not the point of this. It's to provide these children a break from the fact they are locked in a hospital fighting for their lives." She grabbed his arm, pulling him to the door. "Even you can spare the single cell in your heart for that. Now come on, we'll be late."

They got to the hospital, which had already prepared a large room for the children, and she swept in, in full Princess Periwinkle, keeping her emotions at bay. Each time she saw the children, so many of them with visible signs of their illnesses and conditions, it broke her heart. It made her grateful every second for her healthy child and simultaneously guilty too, because her baby was healthy and these parents were going through her worst nightmare.

She pressed it down, taking in their gleeful faces, all of them forgetting where they were, because Princess Periwinkle had decided to visit. They were delighted to see her little dragon with her along with Prince Kit of Catesby, the two of them taking seats at the front, and she began to weave a tale, dramatically beginning: "Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a princess, who only ever wanted to live a normal life, but alas, she could not, because this princess, well she was different..."

It was a childish telling of her story with Jon, one she'd come up with for the event, and she caught his sight, when he realized it, and beamed. He began to weave in his own story-- he was the true storyteller of them both-- forgetting that he hated actors and became one himself. Even Lyella joined in, crawling across the floor and pretending to 'rawr' when necessary.

And then Viserys jumped in, the villain, and everyone shouted and with the plastic swords they'd been given, attacked him and beat him back-- she failed to tell him that part-- concluding the harrowing tale with Princess Periwinkle donning the crown and wielding the Sword of Truth, vowing to always be herself, no matter what anyone thought.

"Because being yourself is the best happiness you can have at all," she ended, sweeping into a curtsey.

One of the children waved their hands, shouting. "But what about prince Kit? And the Princess?"

Jon swept her into his arms, placing a kiss lightly to her lips, half the crowd (mostly girls) cooing and the other half (mostly boys) gagging at the display of affection. His smile radiated pure joy at her. "And they lived..."

"Happily ever after!" everyone exclaimed.

Dany chuckled, accepting the second kiss her husband-- and her true prince-- dropped to her mouth. She picked up Lyella, handing her off so Jon could sign autographs as "Prince Kit" and caught sight of Vis, who was fussing with a makeup mirror in the corner. She furrowed her brow, concerned, and went to him, voice soft. "VIs? You alright?"

"Allergies," he said airily.

Her eyes widened, recognizing the shine in his lilac irises. He ducked his head away, sniffing and dusted his nose with powder. "Vis are you..." This has never happened before, what do I do? "Are you crying?"

"No!"

She laughed, reaching up and hugged him, ignoring his stiff posture until he relaxed into her. She kissed his cheek, murmuring. "You like to be the villain, dear brother, but you're really not. Maybe in another story, but not this one." She broke away, just in time for a photographer to come by and take a snap, of Vis still holding his arms around her shoulders briefly, the two silver-haired Targaryens smiling at each other.

That evening, after they had returned home, with Lyella fast asleep in her Uncle Vizzy's arms-- and photos taken to prove to Viserys that he did love his niece contrary to his protests-- Dany left them on the couch where they'd fallen, and journeyed up to her wing of the townhouse, discovering her prince was still in his costume, playing with the plastic sword.

She watched him a moment, until he saw her reflection in the mirror by the bathroom, and froze. "HOw long have you been standing there?" he demanded.

"Long enough."

He spun on his heel, smirking. He fiddled with the sword. "Been awhile since I actually wielded Longclaw, I was practicing."

She laughed, closing the door, and on a whim, flicked the lock. He arched his brow, a smile curving up slyly. "What are you doing Princess Periwinkle?"

"I seem to have lost my sword, perhaps you can help me find it."

"Hmm....I don't know where it possibly could be."

She tugged him by the belt, towards the bed, and laughed, falling backwards into the voluminous tulle skirts. "I think I have an idea, for your pants are so tight, my prince."

"I knew there had to be a reason for it."

"Let me help you with them."

"Oh thank you princess, I am most grateful."

Dany nipped his lower lip, giggling. "So show me."

#Jonerys #jonerys drabbles #my fics #my moodboards #jomerys fluff #Jonerys au #All the world’s a stage series #UNCLE VIZZY!

[i-rely-on-you]

8 of the touching thing pleaaase

Yes I am still working my way through these, I am just slow as fooq

Thank you @faytalepsy for this lovely prompt!

You can find that list here https://creativepromptsforwriting.tumblr.com/post/646663448366858240/touching

Fury

Fury. Is what registered first. The utter fury on Sauls face as she glanced at him.

They had stood in the grand hall when an armoured guard had walked up to them. She hadn’t even seen him enter but suddenly he stood before her in all of his five foot seven glory. Polished queens guard armour adorning his narrow body and a belittling smile plastered to his smug visage.

Without waiting to be addressed he directed his voice at her and her alone. As if there wasn’t a man twice his size standing next to her watching his every move.

“Queen Luna of Solaria has requested this to be brought to your attention. The traitor Rosalind has been sighted on the far side of the Eraklyan border not more than 2 hours ago. The Queen herself has requested a messenger to deliver this information to you. As a sign of good faith.”

His face twisted into an overly confident snarl. His pride wafted off of him like a foul stench. He delivered his words as if his message held the answers to every and all of the worlds problems.

Farah couldn’t even begin to form a coherent answer when she felt Saul sidestepping her. As he did so his hand found her side, pushing her behind him. But it was the look on his face that had her suck in a breath.

His rage rolled off of him in shock waves. The force with which his emotions permeated the air almost blinding to the mind fairy. His fury nothing like anything she had ever seen before. Not on him. And not on anyone she had ever met.

His face was contorted into a menacing sort of expression she had never seen on him before in her life. His eyes were filled with an unfiltered fire making them appear multiple shades darker. The greenish blue hues she adored so much suddenly resembling dark green emeralds. The glint in his eyes holding a promise of violence as his hand gripped the pommel of his sword so hard, it had veins rise up with the force of it.

With his well over six foot tall body Saul practically towered over the man before him, making the guard appear smaller than ought to be possible in his armour. The gesture in itself had the soldier take a step back, his hand flying to his swords handle on instinct. His face had turned ashen and surprised in an instant.

Sauls posture was the epitome of tension as it rippled through his body. His agitation palpable as his back stiffened, every muscle in his body ready to pounce.

The voice cutting through the silence that had overcome the wide room sounded so foreign, even to her own ears, for it didn’t even sound like her specialists gentle baritone at all.

“Go back to your Queen and tell her, we don’t want any of her intel. Neither your majesty nor her guard are welcome here anymore.”

The look of smugness left the mans face as he took in the specialist before him. Opening his mouth to reply he was cut off by Sauls voice.

“You are not welcome here soldier. Have I made myself clear?”

Her partners hand tensed on her side when the guard tried to get a word in again.

“The Queen has requested-“, but the specialist cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

“Queen Luna is dead to us. And for all intents and purposes so are her men. So if you don’t want that word to become more literal in nature I suggest you vacate the premise immediately.”

With Sauls wide body shielding her from view she couldn’t make out the guards face but she heard the sharp intake of air and a shuffle of feet. Shortly after she heard the man let out a frustrated huff before stalking off into the direction of his car where it stood parked in the courtyard.

As she witnessed the guard all but scurry off into the distance she grasped the arm of her specialist holding her waist. The muscles in his forearm flexed beneath her fingers as he watched the man leave.

When he was well passed the gate and almost out of sight Farah could feel more than see the tension leaking out of her partners body. His shoulders sagged with relief and his lungs expelled what seemed to be all the air left in his body as he blew out a pained breath.

He then swirled around so quickly she couldn’t even begin to miss his comforting touch on her side before his hands encircled her face tenderly. His touch such a crass contrast to his earlier behaviour it made the fairies insides flutter with fondness for the man before her.

Gone was the man that could strike fear into any opponent with a single look. He left in a flash and in his place stood the man she recognised once more. Striking blue eyes shone with unbridled love and care, gazing down at her. This was her partner she knew and loved so much.

Letting her hand touch his side and snake around to his back she felt him tremble at the contact. The strain left behind by the encounter bleeding out of him in a gushing flood. It didn’t take a mind fairy to feel it’s intensity.

Letting his thumbs swipe across her cheeks gently, his eyes asking silently if she was alright, he found her nodding mutely. As her eyes fell closed she too let out a breath of relief, the tension in her shoulders getting released at his tender touch.

She could feel his devotion as it traveled through the air like a thick fog surrounding her body and soul.

Dropping her head forward she felt his mouth find the crown of her head as he kissed her tenderly. Pulling her towards him he snaked his arms around her back and cradled her to him.

Letting her face seek refuge in the space between his neck and chest, Farah feathered her lips over his pulse point. Feeling the need to have it thrum beneath her. To make sure he was there and real. Real in her arms and sturdy as ever. That they were fine.

Hugging her to him stronger now he had to remind himself that she wouldn’t break in his arms. She wouldn’t disappear into thin air all of the sudden like in his nightmares.

It had been a little less than a week when he had pulled her from the earth. Little less than a week when he had felt his world shatter around him. His life losing all meaning.

He could still see the soil clinging to her pale skin every night when he closed his eyes.

As he gifted her his breath and brought her back from the edge he had cradled her slacken body to him and thanked the gods for their mercy. His harrowed sobs had echoed the graveyard and he had felt what it was like to witness a miracle.

The bruise on her neck was still visible. Not yet fully healed. Serving as a reminder of what he had almost lost.

As she felt his arms around her tighten and his lips ghosting over her temple she could feel herself getting lighter. A calm coming over her and settling into her bones.

In his strong embrace she found more than just a pillar of strength. She found a sense of belonging.

Yes. In his arms she was home.

And had she looked at his face in that moment she would’ve found her own feelings mirrored in his eyes.

She knew the lengths this man would go to in order to protect her. She could read it on his face clear as day.

For the fraction of a moment he had witnessed life without her. It was a cold world. A cruel place void of love and meaning. It wasn’t a world worth living in.

Just then she felt him sink his nose into her hair, breathing her in. That familiar scent always able to calm him. She marvelled at the devotion oozing from his every pore.

She knew of his rage and darkest thoughts. Of what he would’ve done had she died. Of the havoc he would have wrecked on the world in order to find Rosalind. The destruction and utter carnage he would have left behind in his wake. The pain he would have inflicted on those standing in his way. There was no doubt in her mind that this man would do anything in his power to protect her.

For he had lost her once.

He had witnessed hell.

He had been there.

And he didn’t plan on going back. Never again.

the end

Thank you for reading! Be sure to leave a comment on ao3 and tell me what you think. Some kudos is also always appreciated ♥️

#silrah #farah dowling #saul silva #fanfic #ao3 #prompt #fate the winx saga #fate winx saga #bring back farah dowling 2k22 #farah is taking a nap #farahs hair #farah dowling x saul silva #farah dowling supremacy

[girlpornparadise]

The Caged Bird Moans (pt 6)

Pairing: Diego Jimenez/f!Reader (Power - Starz)

Word Count: ~ 1700

Warnings:  It’s a bit Stockholm syndromey, but that’s not a real thing anyway (look it up). Not exactly non-con, but it skirts the idea, so if power disparities aren’t your jam, please move along. It just real dirty. SMUT!

Personal ramble: Would anyone actually react like this to the situation I’ve set forth? No. But just as the pizza guy is never hot and doesn’t offer you his extra sausage, this is porn people! So suspend your disbelief and don’t hate on me for my bullsh*t.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You know you’re betraying your family name, and you don’t care. They’re the reason you’re in this mess to begin with. You wonder why you are still his prisoner but don’t really mind at this point. The families must be in some kind of pissing contest, full of machismo fueled exchanges and threat filled arguments.

No matter. You have run of the condo with no real desire to leave. He provides you only with his shirts from now on figuring you won’t try to escape with so little clothing and no shoes. He loves to see you in his shirts because you are cloaked in him and are unmistakably his. He leaves a plush blanket on the couch if you get cold and when you wrap it around you, you imagine his embrace.

When it’s time for business to be conducted you hide in the guest room. You turn the TV loud to drown out the arguments. You occasionally hear Diego’s aggressive demeanor above the din and it sends a bit of a thrill through you to be chosen by a man who commands so much respect.

A few more days pass and you swim in the ecstasy of being with him. The demands to take you over and over, on any surface, at any time. The beauty you find in every detail of his body. The genuine affection you have for him, but that he can’t reciprocate.

He comes into your room in the evening as you read a trashy mystery novel he had brought to you. You put the book down and perk up, excited to see him. You feel your body begin to buzz at the thought of him claiming you again.

His demeanor lacks its usual bravado though, and you find yourself filled with concern. His posture is slightly slumped and his arms fall at his sides without their usual forced tension.

He sits down next to you on the bed and puts his hand over yours, both now resting on your thigh.

“Oh my good girl.” he sighs. “I go to finalize your release tonight.” He looks genuinely saddened behind his usually stone-faced facade. 

You can’t help your sadness as tears threaten to well. He cups your face more gently than he ever has and looks deep into your eyes. 

“I could never keep you, my caged little bird.” His voice as soft as his gaze.

He plants a kiss on your lips, wet but almost chaste. He caresses your cheek and as a tear rolls down it, his thumb firmly brushes it away.

When you open your eyes, he smooths his hand over your hair, and crooks a small smile at you.

You reach out to his chest as he leans in to kiss you again. You scrape your hands across the soft fabric covering his broad surface and his lips seek yours, hungrily massaging them. You smile into his mouth as you feel his gruff facial hair brush against your chin.

He tenses and relaxes beneath your roving touch, his heavy breathing betraying the desperation he feels for you and you feel his chest rise and fall beneath your hands.

He cups your breasts through your shirt, feeling their warmth and weight in his hands and kisses you once more.

He shifts his weight and he lays you down gently on your back. And for the first time, he makes love to you. It’s not his usual aggressive, lust fueled peepshow. This time it isn’t a conquest, but a goodbye letter in physical form.

His hands are gentle as he caresses your skin. The bare inside of your forearm, the nape of your neck, the ridge of your collarbone. He pecks gentle kisses along your neck and jaw, and you close your eyes in a waking dream.

He unbuttons the shirt you’re wearing slowly as he watches your movements. The heave of your breasts under his strong hands makes his cock twitch inside of his pants. He opens your shirt and takes your breasts in his palms as he rubs them, circling his thumbs slowly across the sensitive skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue as it hardens beneath his heat. You sigh heavily.

As he pushes himself up off of the bed, you reach for the buttons on his shirt and work them open to release him from its confines. You drag your hands slowly down his chest, his abs, to his pants. You remove the belt and undo his fly.

As you release his straining cock he reaches down and discards his remaining clothing. You feel the warmth of the skin on his legs brushing against yours and his erection grazing against you as he positions himself over top of you.

He slides his hand between your wet folds and pushes two of his fingers past your threshold. As he drags them along your walls you roll your hips to his rhythm.

He’s watching your face this time, reading your twitches and whimpers, trying to decipher the key to your ecstasy.

He removes his hand and licks the slick off of his fingers. He holds his cock firmly and glides it into you slowly, agonizingly slowly so you feel every inch settling into you.

He rocks slowly and deliberately this time, savouring every moment inside of you. You grab desperately at him, never wanting to let him go. You are clinging to the moment and all of the heat, sweat, fire and passion passing between you. This brief eternity being precious to you both.

As he presses his hips more firmly against you, lingering in your depths, your pleasure crests and you exhale his name. This sends him over the edge and he empties his body into yours with a gentle final push.

You reluctantly release your grasp on him and let him fall to your side. Your eyes study him, trying to memorize him in this moment. He’s unguarded and radiates a peacefulness his lifestyle so rarely affords him. You both lay still for a moment, lost in each other’s breathing.

“You’re not the monster everyone thinks you are.” You gently say as you reach over and stroke his jaw.

“That’s our little secret.” He replies, those cheeky dimples melting your heart.

He kisses your forehead and gets up off the bed. He pulls on his boxers and pants. You watch him zip them up then he retrieves his shirt, which he buttons up and smooths down until he decides himself presentable.

As he leaves, he doesn’t speak, but he pauses at the door and looks at you longingly. With the slightest of nods, he takes his leave. You lay back looking at the ceiling as you try to untangle what you’re feeling from what is rational and true. The impossible knot has manifested itself in your stomach as a mangled ache. You try to breathe steadily and drift in and out of a dreamless sleep for a few hours.

When you wake, you sit on the bed, waiting anxiously for the next move. You picture Diego and his henchmen taking you blindfolded to an alley for some kind of hand-off. You decide you watch too many movies.

Suddenly an uneasy feeling hits the pit of your stomach, and your heart beats faster. Intuition is telling you that something is about to happen and it isn’t what you’d just been picturing.

The elevator dings and you hear a major commotion as several men trample into the penthouse.

“Find her!” Says a commanding and somehow familiar voice.

In a panic, you back yourself into the corner of the room, next to the window and pull your knees up to your chest, hugging yourself into a ball.

The room’s door swings open and crashes into the wall as 3 men with guns enter. You tense at their sight, but when they see you and that the room is clear, they lower their weapons. 

“She’s in here.” One of them shouts. 

In rushes their boss, your grandfather. He sees you shaking and barely clothed and pulls the duvet off the bed to wrap you in it. He crouches down beside you as you’re swaddled by its warmth.

You’re relieved that it’s him, but still in shock. 

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok. You’re safe now."  He reassures you.

You take deep, gasping breaths, still shaking.

"He can’t hurt you now. We’ve made sure of that.” In your addled state you look at him, confused.

“Diego Jimenez is dead sweetheart. He’ll never lay a finger on you again.”

Your heart stops and your body goes cold and suddenly you can’t hold back and the floodgates open. You sob uncontrollably into your grandfather’s arms.

He mistakes your tears for the tears of trauma, assuming your fear found its resolution. They are tears of relief he tells himself. The tears that will begin your healing from the whole ordeal.

You sob and heave and struggle to catch your breath and it continues for what feels like hours. He lets you wear yourself out, and when the sobbing subsides and your body stops shaking you are handed some warm clothes.You dress yourself and are escorted to the elevator.

Your grandfather wants a doctor to examine you, but you persuade him to let you go home instead. You’ve never felt so old or exhausted in your life.

“You are free now little bird.” You tell yourself sadly.

***

You return to your family and they coddle you for a while. There are big celebrations and intimate dinners, and you eat and try to laugh when you’re expected to. There are therapists to help you process the trauma, but despite the promise of confidentiality, you make up most of your harrowing ordeal. Anyone could be on the family payroll. Anyone.

You must conceal the sadness in your heart. At the loss of a man you were falling for, but could never be yours. You keep him as a secret, locked away from everyone you know, lest your family disown you. 

You eventually leave the city and your life returns to normal. But when you’re alone, late at night, the intense passion seared in your memory and in the fibers of your body makes you wistfully smile and your heart longs to be caged once more.

#diego jimenez #maurice compte #starz power #fic #smut #moar diego #moar growly murder panther

[kneamet]

Angel of cards (14/16)

Trigger Warning: oral sex, obsession, yandere.

Summary: Joker, Mr. J, anarchist psychopath, Tom Hiddleston. He had many nicknames. Joker was Gotham’s most dangerous and insightful man, with sharp makeup and horribly memorable scars on his face in the form of a smile. He was absolutely crazy and deadly. No one knows his real identity and everyone is afraid of his cruel jokes. But what happens when he becomes obsessed with an ordinary girl?

She belongs to him. No one can take her away from him. Even The Batman.

Chapter fourteen: fear

He missed me. How the hell did he miss his beloved angel, who always supported him. Oh, how he wants to touch her shiny brown hair and run his hand through it, which will actually calm the tremor of his hands.

His hand in a purple glove touched the door handle is brown and he clicked on it, licking your lips and lightly biting them.

He walked into a brightly lit room. He blinked furiously. Why the hell did she turn on all the lights?

Suddenly, his strong nose picked up the smell of cigarettes. Friends of cigarettes. Is that a Stutton? He stifled a furious growl and swallowed the nonexistent saliva, once again running his rough tongue over the scars that adorned his face.

His eyes darted to his angel. He stifled the loud moan that wanted to escape from the man's throat. How gorgeous she was just now! And those sweet lips that he wanted to kiss!

"My angel," he breathed, opening his hands and closing his eyes. "I'm home," he said. Suddenly, the Joker felt a face pressed against his strong chest. He licked his lips again and looked down.

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth. Did his angel just hug him? Had she succumbed to his embrace? His eyes widened even more in joy, and he hugged her back tightly.

"I've missed you too, my angel," the Joker whispered in his angel's ear. His teeth suddenly brushed her earlobe. She just breathed loudly into his chest.

Did his angel really miss him? Really? The Joker wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Did he not believe that his angel would love him? Did he really think that his all-encompassing love would go unanswered and unanswered?

What a fool he was. Fool. Fool. Fool. He didn't want them to run out of minutes. How he wished that she would always stand there with him and not take her thoughts away from him. In the thoughts of his angel, there should be only him. Not Bruce, he's Betsy, not Harvey and Rachel.... Precisely! Harvey and Rachel! His angel probably doesn't know this news!

"My angel," he said, moving slightly away from her, disconcertingly, as he leaned in close to her face. "I'd like to tell you something very important: Rachel, your uncle's girlfriend, and Harvey, your worst relative..." he paused for a long, harrowing moment, then suddenly threw his arms out to the sides again. "... They're dead!" he finished cheerfully, beginning to laugh and slowly bend over.

But he didn't hear the second laugh. He stopped as abruptly as he had begun to laugh. His gaze met that of his angel. She stared down at her hands, her mouth open, her eyes downcast. He saw a single tear roll down her cheek.

His gaze became confused. He furrowed his brows and raised his hand up, touching the soft hair of his angel with his hand and continuing to make light strokes with small movements. Very light. Almost weightless.

The Joker pulled his little girl by the head and pulled her back into his arms. Into a soft and light embrace.

Suddenly, he felt his head move to the left. He blinked his eyes a couple of times. It took his angel-clouded mind a moment to realize that he had been slapped. A loud and brazen slap in the face. He turned his head and looked up at his angel, who was standing defensively.

What had his angel just done?

Did his angel hit him?

His?

An angel?

Hit him?

His?

His?

"Don't come near me, you complete freak!" the girl screamed loudly in the Joker's face, while he stood in shock and his usual severity in front of her.

Suddenly, she jerked from her seat and ran to the other side of the room. The Joker ran after her, but he hadn't expected her to use the bathroom. A clicking sound caught my ear. Did she lock herself away from him?

"Open the door!" Joker shouted, banging on the bathroom door with his hands, not stopping. "Open it now!" he shouted again, without stopping the noise.

He sighed and asked in an unctuous voice, with a slight grin.:

"My angel, do you want to be punished Daddy J? Is that really what you want? Do you want Bruce Wayne to be dead, too? Ah, my angel?" at a fast pace, the man stammered very much, clapping his hands. He stopped abruptly, and there was a deep silence in the air. He could hear his angel crying in the bathroom.

"My angel, you probably don't know, here in the toilet, there are very weak handles and doors. I can easily knock them out!" The Joker shouted at the door again, but when he heard nothing but envious silence from his angel, he just breathed in, moving very far away. "I'm sorry, my angel," and he rushed out the door.

His shoulder itched, but his angel was free and with him again. Reunited. You can't do that. You can't just drop the Joker.

"My angel, you do realize that you will have to suffer a great punishment, right?" Joker asked, putting his hands on his angel's shoulders and pressing down on them. The girl, unable to withstand the pressure, fell to her knees in front of him. Right in front of his hot and horny penis. He pulled at his trousers uncomfortably.

The Joker unbuttoned the fly of his purple pants and slightly lowered his white, but slightly dirty underpants, revealing his big boner.

He watched as his angel swallowed and only lowered her head. Doesn't she like her punishment? He clenched his hand into a fist and grabbed his angel by the short hair, pulling him closer to him as he leaned in.

"Look at me while you do your punishment!"looking straight into the brown eyes of his angel," the Joker said loudly, not lowering her hair and only pulling his angel closer to his penis.

The male organ buried itself in her cheek, but the Joker only turned her head, forcing his angel to accept his cock.

When he felt his cock sink into his angel's mouth, he just couldn't hold back a guttural moan. Damn, damn, damn.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston gif #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #yandere #yandere loki #yandere Tom Hiddleston #tom hiddleston x oc #OC: Blake Dent #tom hiddleston x original female character #angel of cards #tom hiddleston x ofc #loki #loki x reader #obsessive loki #yandere loki x reader #obsession #obsessive #obsessive tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston as the joker #joker x reader #joker #yandere joker #batman #fanfiction #fanfic

[samayla]

Worst. Birthday. Ever.

It’s your birthday, and you get to spend it in a firefight on an alien world.

Nonnie requested a reader-insert fic featuring a gruff-but-sweet Jack and someone’s birthday. Hope this fits the bill, Nonnie!!

AO3

“Worst. Birthday. Ever,” you gasp as you duck behind a fallen pillar.

Another few rounds of P90 fire go off overhead before Colonel O’Neill drops down beside you to reload. “Come on now,” he quips. “Surely you’ve had worse. What about college?” He pops up to fire off another handful of shots, then ducks hastily as the stone next to you explodes in the energy blast that answers his volley. You both slide down a little lower, just in case. “Surely there’s some legendary drunken escapade that tops this mess?”

“If there is,” you pant, trying and failing to reload your own gun, “I was too drunk to remember it.”

“Carter, how’s it coming? I’d love to go home right about now!”

“Three minutes, Colonel,” she shouts back from the far side of the DHD, where she is trying to recalibrate it to send the IDC signal to unlock the iris.

O’Neill peeks around the pillar and then ducks away from another energy blast. “I’ll give you two! L/N, you out?”

You try to reload again, but you just can’t seem to get the stupid magazine to lock into place. “Mag’s jammed.”

“Daniel! Give her a hand! Teal’c, cover him!”

Suddenly, Daniel is at your side, hands over yours, and then he’s shouting. “Jack, she’s bleeding!”

Alarmed, you lean out, trying to get a look at Carter, but then Daniel is everywhere — shoving you back against the pillar again, batting your hands away, lifting the P90 strap over your head, bracing a hand against your suddenly aching shoulder — and you realize it’s you. You’re bleeding. In the midst of a dozen other, smaller cuts, there is a shard of stone piercing your shoulder, right through your jacket. You feel dizzy.

“Shit,” the colonel curses. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“It doesn’t hurt, sir,” you offer, mildly confused about that fact, but grateful for it. It looks like it should hurt. You try to take your gun from Daniel again, to cover your teammates in this firefight, but you can’t quite make your hand obey, and it occurs to you that this is why you couldn’t reload.

This is bad.

“One minute, Carter,” O’Neill shouts. “We have wounded.”

“One minute,” she confirms. “Nearly there!”

“Jack, give me a hand.” Daniel pulls the strap off your P90 and folds your arm up.

O’Neill drops his gun and presses your hand over the shard in your shoulder, and you grunt at the first bolt of pain. “L/N, look at me. You hang onto this,” he says firmly. “As long as it’s plugging the hole, you aren’t leaking. There’ll be no bleeding out on your birthday, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” You gasp as Daniel tightens the strap around your chest to hold your arm in place, but then everything seems to speed up. Daniel shoves a zat into your good hand, and Carter is shouting, and O’Neill is bellowing into his radio, and you’re running — or at least someone is. You’re pretty sure it isn’t you at this point. You’re too focused on hanging onto that shard of stone and breathing through the pain as you’re jostled along at someone’s side, shooting at anything that moves, determined not to be a liability. Then you are on the ramp, and your shoulder is absolutely killing you, and there are guns everywhere, and someone is replacing Teal’c at your side - though when he’d gotten there in the first place, you have no idea. Dr. Frasier is prying the zat out of your death grip, and everything is just a little bit slippery, just a little bit surreal as you’re loaded onto a gurney, and the rest of your team is hustled off in another direction entirely.

-

“How does that feel, Y/N?” Janet asks, adjusting your sling slightly to better support your shoulder. She’s got you all put back together and bandaged up, but you still feel absolutely wrung-out.

“Better, Janet. Thanks.” You offer up a watery half-smile, the best you can manage.

“None of that now,” she scolds softly. “I see from your chart it’s your birthday.”

You chuckle bitterly. “I think I’d rather skip this year and pretend it never happened.”

“Now that is not what I want to hear right now,” Colonel O’Neill declares as he strides into the infirmary with Teal’c and Daniel in tow. “A death-defying firefight, a harrowing escape, all the good drugs in the aftermath… what’s not to like?”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “What he means to say is, how’s the arm, Y/N?”

You barely stop yourself from shrugging. “Good enough for government work,” you quip, hoping that will be good enough.

O’Neill barks out a laugh. “You know, as a tax-paying American citizen, that’s not a real comfort, but I do appreciate the spunk, L/N.”

“I do what I can, sir.” In truth, you feel ready to fly apart at the seams. Tired, embarrassed, frustrated, disappointed… You’re sure you’ll feel glad to be alive later, but for now, you just wish it was any other day, as if the rest of it would be somehow easier to handle if it wasn’t happening on this particular day.

“As do we all,” Teal’c intones gently, seemingly sensing your fragile mood. “I, too, am glad to see you are well.”

“Yes, well, since you’ve got a doctor’s note, the rest of us have a debriefing in ten, and then!” O’Neill grins. “Then, the birthday party to end all birthday parties!”

You aren’t sure if the grandiose declaration makes you want to laugh or cry. “Sounds ominous,” you comment carefully, struggling to get your raw emotions under control. You aren’t in the mood for partying, but you don’t want to ruin the gesture either.

“Nah,” O’Neill says, sitting beside you on the bed and giving your good hand a squeeze. “No booze, or the doc’ll have my head, and no cake because Teal’c’s a terrible baker, but we did liberate several gallons of green jello from the commissary. We have permission from the general to use the VIP suite — they have the comfiest couch, don’t ya know — and Carter’s currently negotiating with Siler for his copy of Mary Poppins and a case of rootbeer. 1919. Very good year.”

“Mary Poppins,” Daniel says skeptically. “That’s your big surprise?”

At your side, the colonel nods solemnly. “Mary Poppins.”

Teal’c cocks his head. “What is a merry poppin?”

You can’t help a giggle at the absurdity of the question, of the whole situation. “Mary Poppins.”

“She’s a who, not a what,” the colonel explains, “and I think she’s just the sort of who we need tonight.” He turns back to you and hands you a tissue without comment. “Now, Y/N, you get some rest and just enjoy all those good meds for a bit.” He gives you a one-armed hug and kisses your hair as he stands. “I’ll come bust you out of here once we’re done with the general, and then we’ll see what a spoonful of sugar can do about improving this whole birthday situation. Deal?”

You smile helplessly, but your face feels wet, and you realize you’re crying too. You wipe your eyes with the tissue, suddenly overwhelmed by gratitude. “Deal.”

He nods with a proud smile and begins herding the others out of the infirmary.

“Jack?” you call as he reaches the door. He glances over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

He just smiles again. “Happy birthday.”

#stargate sg1 #jack o'neill #stargate fic #fanfic #mywriting #sg1 fic #reader insert #I'm pretty sure you were hoping for something more romantic #but this is what happened instead #sorry nonnie #hope you enjoy it anyway <3

[xoruffitup]

Adam Driver on SNL: 1/25 Dress Rehearsal Recap

I’m having dejavu of the best kind. I’m sitting here on the bus on my way back from NYC in hungover euphoria and overjoyed disbelief at everything I just experienced, texting new friends and old, recounting everything in my head and smiling so hard. The September 2018 weekend of Adam’s last SNL show lives in my memory in unmatched infamy, so my excitement was off the charts to do it all again. And because this show was absolutely fucking INCREDIBLE, this weekend delivered in every way all over again!! Seriously, my face aches from how I can’t stop smiling aksnksj HELP :’)

My friends and I were in the Dress Rehearsal, so below the cut are retellings of ALLLL the skits including those cut from the Live show - and no small amount of helpless emotional flailing.

I had an idea of what to expect after attending Adam’s 2018 show, but I nevertheless felt sky-high levels of anxiety when Sarah and we arrived at the NBC shop at 6:30. I knew rationally that our chances of getting into Dress were good with numbers #12 - 14, but every now and then there’s the occasional oddity of only a handful of Standby people getting in. Though even without any uncertainty in the equation, my entire being goes on Hyped/Anxious Overdrive anyway whenever I’m about to be in the same space as Adam sO really there’s nothing for it. :’)

They lined us up by numbers, I did a lot of emotional wobbling like “I can’t believe we’re here again together guys waaaah” (have I mentioned I met these girls at Adam’s last show? Full circle moment of the highest and most beautiful caliber and it had me hella verklempt), and thennnn - drumroll and hushed silence please - the main security guy comes up to the giant line and asks the first 20 people to come with him.

As they constantly remind you throughout this thoroughly nerve-wracking process, there is no guarantee you’ll actually get into the show until you’re physically in the seat. It’s a long, harrowing trip from the NBC store where the line gathers, up stairs, elevators, and through hallways to reach the studio, and you can still be cut even as far as the very last checkpoint if all seats fill up with the people ahead of you. So as you get closer, the excitement spikes higher and higher but so does the worry! We went through security, and then I clung to our new Standby line friend Catherine’s arm as they lined us up two-by-two on the first staircase, with Sarah and @reylonly right behind. I was likely extremely annoying as I couldn’t help being rambly and weird in my nerves and compulsively hugging my girls’ arms. @reylonly did her very best to calm my hot mess down, bless her.

About 45 minutes later (Maybe? I had no idea what time was, lbr) we reached the final point of the elevator and last hallway, and were held just outside the studio. THEN - the woman there instructed the next 4 to follow her in (thank GOD because we were terrified of being split up), WE WENT INTO THE STUDIO WHEW YAYAY OMFG WE WERE THERE!!! - but then oh no it happened so fast that she pointed @reylonly down to a single seat in the center and then the other 3 of us to seats towards the left side of the stage. They were all single seats, but thank GOSH they were all end seats of rows right next to each other. So Sarah was right in front of me and I could grab her shoulder (which I would do a lot in increasingly desperate excitement over the next 2 hours), and Catherine and I could reach across the aisle to cling to each other’s hands! @reylonly was on her own but in an incredible seat, and during commercial breaks we would lean forward to wave and blow kisses to each other and mime flailing or crying as one incredible sketch after another played out in front of us. I made sure to be friendly and talk to the people sitting next to me so they wouldn’t be too annoyed with me and Sarah always grabbing at each other, but LOL they probably thought I was at least a little insane. I mean, maybe for the moment alone when I saw a girl I’d made friends with in line but then lost track of in a seat not too far from me, and we started waving and dabbing at each other. Once we were seated there in the studio, all the anxiety gave way to surging excitement and I was practically bouncing in my seat, so overjoyed to be there and see my dear fandom friends there with me!

Michael Che warmed up the audience with some standup, the House band jammed, and Sarah and I momentarily got Extremely Excited when we saw them setting up the hell backdrop set for the cold open and thought at the time it was supposed to be Tattooine for a Star Wars skit, lolol. But then the actual show started, and with our Adam-eagle eyes Catherine reached out to whisper “there he is! In the blonde wig!” And, heart in my throat no matter how many times I see this man in person, I frantically squinted at all the people waiting just off to the side of the set until I saw that unmistakably Tol Broad back, and then he stepped onto the set and into the lighted camera’s view and I was cheering and clapping so hard for his first appearance that I couldn’t hear who he was supposed to be playing. xD I was just tapping Sarah’s shoulder in front of me, bouncing in my seat a little, and trying not to start levitating with the sheer force of my excitement and joy to be there.

OKAY from here I’ll break this up by skit! Anything that was different or missing from the Live show I put in bold font if you want to skip to that! Starting with...

Intro Monologue

WHAT A GOOD MONOLOGUE, ITS LIKE THEY JUST LET ADAM RUN WITH IT AND WRITE IT HIMSELF IT WAS SO HIM AND HILARIOUS AND WEIRD AND YET CHARMING IDEK I WILL NEVER COMPREHEND THE WONDER OF THIS MAN??

So when he dropped the bomb of “I’m a husband and a FATHER” I clapped Sarah’s shoulder SO HARD, then he made he joke “I’ve made it very clear to my son that he’s second in everything” and I could not bELIEVE the wonder of what I was hearing omfg. I heard the words “my son” come out of his mouth with my own ears WHO COULD HAVE PREDICTED, SURE AS HELL NOT ME????

Then he went into the audience to demonstrate how “approachable” he is and was so awk/weird/hilarious I was just losing it, then took his time meandering around the stage and making weird faces into the camera and I was just LOSING IT. And AKSKSJA after that he wandered over to another camera that was lower and kind of hummed as he lifted his shirt and put it over the camera so we got a full on belly button view for 2 unbelievable glorious seconds!! He looked up at the monitors as he was doing it and went “oh you can’t see anything” so that’s probably why he sadly didn’t flash his belly in the Live show.

“Cheer” with Adam as one of the team coaches

I’m going by the skit order in Dress, and this one was first after the monologue. Best part for me was the accent reminiscent of Clyde Logan. :3 But tbh, of the 6 skits they did for the Live show, I kind of wish this one had been swapped for the one performed last in Dress that was sO Wild and would have made fandom absolutely lose its shit aksnksal more to come on that.

UNDERCOVER BOSS AKA RANDY THE INTERN

THE BEST GIFT WE COULD HAVE RECEIVED!! BLESS YOU SNL AND ADAM FOR GIVING US KYLO CONTENT TO BE HAPPY OVER AND LOVE WHOLE HEARTEDLY. T___T

Honestly, I cannot even properly describe my reaction when the Undercover Boss intro logo appeared on all the monitors oHMYLoRDDD. I nearly leapt out of my seat, like my heart nearly jumped clear out of my chest oh my fuck and I was legit holding onto Sarah so much I almost slid out of my seat - I just couldn’t believe it and I cheered SO LOUD. The entire audience erupted with this “HOLY SHIT” vibe outburst and I was SO happy to be there in that moment - knowing that our entire fandom was only hours away from this!! I honestly didn’t expect it at all - after they didn’t do one of these the second time Adam was on, I thought there was no chance. But IT HAPPENED AND IT WAS SO QUALITY HILARIOUS WE ARE SO BLESSED - THANK YOU TO RANDY’S LIL BEANIE AND VEST AND HIPSTER PANTS.

Pretty sure I like half curled up on myself laughing so hard my feet left the floor at OK BOOMER. And at the part with “will Rey take his hand?” I swear MY SOUL NEAR LEFT MY BODY I MEAN IS THIS THE REAL LIFE IS THIS JUST FANTASYYYY

..... Can someone come promise me we really didn’t just collectively hallucinate that??

SAG Awards Fashion Red Carpet

I’m not too disappointed this one was cut. Of all the amazing skits performed, I would have ranked this one lower. Adam and Kenan Thompson were fashion critics talking about celebs’ looks on the SAG red carpet. A minute in Adam says, “We should be paying more attention to the kids!” Kenan: *nervous laugh* “uh, should we??” Adam starts talking about/admiring the outfits for like Finn Wolfhard etc, with hilarious but bordering creepy descriptions like “masculine but not quite fully grown,” until Kenan is like “umm maybe we shouldn’t be talking about kids this much?”

They interview a girl who’s supposed to be Jojo Siwa and Adam’s like “you should know I think you’re beautiful. Kids need to hear more often that they’re beautiful.” Kenan panics, going “alRIGHT we’re gonna cut back to the studio now!” The skit ended with Adam: “I got a ticket to the Nickelodeon afterparty and I’m gonna swipe one of those kids in my pocket!”

“Slow” Digital Short

HONESTLY, this competes with Undercover Boss for my favorite skit of the night. I can’t even tell you - I had literal tears running down my face I was laughing SO fucking hard during this entire thing. From the first moment we heard Adam’s deep-ass voice I absolutely and entirely lost my shit oh my GOD. We’d been so pumped for Adam in some kind of rap sketch when we saw the photos of him and Kenan filming the day before, but it was SO FUCKING GOOD. I will never ever in all my days not bust out laughing at “Bring that ass here” and “In a 65 hour lane going 2” aksnskns I’m on the bus struggling to fight back laughter just thinking about it SEND HELP!!!

It’s just brilliant. The turtle next to his expensive loafers. His cheesy sunglasses. That shot of his glorious bare arms. His deep voice “Baby” when they’re at the door and “But I brought ice cream” oh my god I love it so much BLESS YOU SNL BLESS YOU. I never in all my days thought I’d get Adam rapping but it’s every single thing I never knew I needed.

Del Taco Commercial / “Aw Man I’m All Outta Cash!”

ADAM’S SLEAZY LOOKING LONG WIG LMAO. This one was a wild and funny time once you got into it and just let it go. Once Kyle, Beck, and Adam were all yelling the line and Adam went “You don’t want to kill yourself, you just want a taco, Jesus” everyone was ROLLING. I think the only difference (is this even worth color coding lol) was that after Kyle took his pants off Adam kept slapping his thigh during Dress bahaha.

“Hot Dad” Adam dealing with a clogged toilet at a teenaged girls’ sleepover

Adam and Kate McKinnon comedy together YES PLEASE. This one was all the same as far as I can remember, but I will say that a woop/cheer rose from the people sitting near the set for this one at the line about Adam being a “hot Dad.” Yep sounds about right.

(Halsey’s first song, Weekend Update)

Medieval Renaissance Fair

You can’t have Adam host SNL without giving him some ridiculous character skit ala Oil Baron Parnassus. I absolutely loved how intense and deep he was for this kind of nonsense xD We can thank this skit for giving us footage of Adam yelling “Whore!” and spitting, lmao. Also.... I’ll just say in that outfit and wig he looked even Extra Big in comparison to everyone around him.

Courtroom Trial / Sinbad on Cameo

I’m also okay with this one being cut, but I was biased to enjoy the hell out of it live because the set was right in front of where I was sitting and I had such a perfect view of him. <3

Adam was supposed to be the defendant in a case where a female coworker claims he harassed her by sending “threatening” videos. Adam goes up on the stand and the prosecutor asks “are you familiar with these videos?” Cut over to Kenan Thompson, who’s pretending to be Sinbad on the app Cameo, making videos for the woman that are like “Hey you better give Mark a chance! Otherwise he might come after you!” Adam responds with disbelief: “I have no idea who this Sinbad person is and frankly, your honor, this is pissing me off.” Kenan acts a few more videos which keep getting funnier because he keeps eating things or being in crowded public places while filming them. But in the final video he references Adam’s character’s name so it’s clear he was the one requesting the videos. Adam gets all sad on the stand: “It doesn’t matter. No one likes me anyway!” It ends with Kenan as Sinbad crashing into the courtroom in person.

This was more Kenan’s skit as he really was hilarious, but someone had to explain to me afterwards who Sinbad is and how the Cameo app works so I didn’t quite ~get it while watching. BUT more importantly - Adam looked great despite the weird brown wig he had on. During the second of Kenan’s videos when the cameras were on Kenan instead, Adam’s face definitely started quivering with suppressed laughter until he visibly locked it down like NO FOCUS ADAM. Most of my attention stayed fixed on the buttons of his shirt because hOOo boy were they straining! Without me even saying anything, Catherine reached across the aisle for me immediately afterwards and whispered, “That shirt did /not/ fit well.” OH YES I NOTICED >:33

PBS Science Show

Another one which was performed right directly in front of us!! I already knew this was going to be a good one because Adam went right over to the skeleton mannequin when he came on set and started playing with it, like making the arm and wrist wiggle around. The biggest dork cutie you’ll ever see.

He was standing right under me, which meant once he started handling the balloon I got mighty distracted watching his MASSIVE hands around that tiny-looking balloon. >:)) Then I cracked up so hard when he got exasperated and threw something back against the window. WE GOT TO SEE HIM SMASH SOMETHING IN PERSON YESSSS

Ketchup bottles

Oh my GOD EVERYTHING WAS AMAZING ABOUT THIS ONE FROM START TO FINISH. The best part though might have been the prep beforehand. Someone carried the giant Ketchup and hot sauce bottles onto the set before the actors came on and we were like wtf? (For a minute I was triggered remembering Kanye coming on in his Perrier bottle during the 2018 show) But THEN Adam and Cecily Strong came on in big red shirts and people started lifting the giant plastic bottles over them and LOL we realized where this was going. They definitely struggled for a minute getting Adam’s bottle up over his head because of his height xD People in the audience were already laughing just watching this costume set up, and once Adam got the bottle on a WOOT cheer rose which I later learned was none other than @reylonly aka my hero. It was followed by someone yelling “THATS HOT”, which akndosjan made Adam laugh and raise his arms with a hilarious little shimmy in the bottle. He really seemed to be enjoying himself during the whole show, but during this ridiculous and incredibly hilarious skit especially so.

Game Night / Movie Quote Competition

OKAY this is the skit it’s a real tragedy didn’t make it on air! There were lines in this I couldn’t beLiEvE my ears were hearing, and if we ever get a recording I’m pretty sure the fandom would basically implode. 

Three couples are sitting around a living room having a game night. Adam is sitting with Kate McKinnon with his arm around her. After they finish playing Settlers of Catan, Heidi Gardner suggests they play a movie quote game where one of them says a line from a movie and the rest have to guess the movie. She is clearly very into it, and the others reluctantly agree. It quickly becomes clear that Adam is just as good at the game as she is, and they immediately start becoming competitive. They reach the point where they quote three lines from Captain Phillips in a row, trying to trick each other. As the game gets more heated, they exchange aggressive flirty banter such as:

Heidi: You really know your movie quotes, huh? Adam: Yeah I do. Heidi: And with some BDE over there. Adam: Yeah, I got that too.

AND !!!!!!!!!!

Heidi: You’re quite the movie flick daddy. Adam: I’m the world’s biggest flick daddy.

!!!!!!!!! HE CALLED HIMSELF A DADDY HELP CALL 911 EMERGENCY !!!!!!!!!!

The game keeps escalating until Kate tries to calm Adam down and he brushes her off. Everyone else tries to tell Heidi to relax, and she responds “What?! I’m supposed to lie back and let (Kate’s character’s name)’s hot husband rail me??”

I WAS FLOATING ON THE CEILING BY THIS POINT, I literally couldn’t believe what my ears were hearing alsdfjsldafjlsdkfj!

It gets to the point where they’re both standing, shouting completely vague snippets of lines at each other while the other continues to guess correctly. Until finally Adam exclaims, “I got a good one!” He grabs her and fULL ON kisses her. 

(Pictures from The Adam Driver Files twitter.)

Immediately afterwards she goes, “I know! That was the kiss from (Movie X - I can’t remember the exact title).” Adam: “HOW DID YOU KNOW?!” Heidi: “From how you moved your tongue!”

I’m still reeling from this one. Adam calling himself a daddy, talk of “getting railed” by him, and intense kissing?! Oh my lORDDDD. I’m still trying to keep it playing on a loop in my ears. I’m not sure if we as a fandom could collectively survive a full video of this, but GOD I hope we get the chance to test ourselves. RELEASE THE UNAIRED VIDEO, YOU NBC COWARDS!!!

FLICK DADDY INDEED

...Aaaaaaand that was a wrap! After 10 skits and nearly 2.5 hours, it literally felt like I had run a marathon at a full sprint. I was just trying to process everything I’d just witnessed, while trying to focus on committing every single thing to memory. I just couldn’t believe the range of amazing and hilarious things I’d just seen Adam doing: Play a talking ketchup bottle, call himself a daddy, awkwardly talk about feminine products clogging his toilet, yell “WHORE” then spit and swing a medieval mace around, rap hilariously, and yell about umami?? It was all almost TOO MUCH. 

For full-circle and emotional fulfillment reasons, I wore my Save Ben Solo shirt to the show just like I did at the 2018 show. I had debated beforehand whether it would be too bittersweet to wear it after TROS, but now I’m so glad I did. All these hilarious and zany skits were just what we all needed to continue the cycle of fandom excitement and positivity despite the last month. I’m so incredibly grateful to SNL for such great material for Adam to work with and us to laugh at, and for giving us the perfect reminder that there’s still so much to whole-heartedly appreciate and love. Most of all, Adam himself. <3

THANK YOU SNL AND ADAM FOR ANOTHER LIFE-HIGHLIGHT WEEKEND! <3

#Adam Driver #Saturday Night Live #SNL #driverdaily

[fatefulfaerie]

Closer

I don’t know, I just felt like writing something.

As far as BOTW 2 content goes, I trust Nintendo completely, but we have to tide ourselves over for the time being somehow.

“Link?” Zelda asked.

The fire was crackling as she hugged her knees before it, the warmth from the flames heating her skin, her arms in particular feeling as if they would burn off, as if they should singe.

Yet, she didn’t move.

The cave they were in was cold, and as the depths of it twisted and turned, it got even colder. 

It settled a feeling inside her that something lurked beneath them that matched the frigid temperature, that seeped away life and warmth from the very air. Even a foul stench had began to house in their noses as they descended, day after day, reminding her how far removed they were from calm nights in Hateno.

Zelda loathed very much that she lived those experiences without realizing how precious they were.

So, she sat before the fire, looking past the flames to a uniquely-shaped rock, warped and curled by the waves of heat. She didn’t mind a little extra heat, figuring she would move eventually.

“Yeah,” Link prompted, Zelda only hearing his voice, her own gaze stagnant and focused.

She could tell, however, that he was still fidgeting with the straps, the nets, the fabrics, the bags, all of them rustling as Zelda hesitated.

“Are you scared?” she asked timidly.

Suddenly, the rustling stopped, only the crackling of fire in the silence between them.

“Yes,” Link replied, inducing Zelda to close her eyes with a sigh.

It was only a few seconds before she heard fabric sliding again, buckles being secured once more.

Zelda opened her eyes and looked over to see Link facing away from her, their provisions already on the ground at his feet.

For some reason, he was taking more time than it was necessary to secure everything else, like he was giving himself busy work, occupying himself with some senseless and meaningless task.

They both knew, somehow, that they were getting closer to something, something horrible, something monstrous, something that could endanger both of them, something they feared greatly and didn’t even know why.

Zelda and Link both had a feeling that something bad was about to happen and neither of them wanted to discuss it, to talk about it in any way, to say out loud that peace may not be possible for them.

So, Zelda stood up, walking closer to Link as a small smile turned her lips upwards.

“Sir Link,” she said, holding out her hand in offering “may I have this dance, oh accomplished knight of Hyrule.”

Link turned around and slid his hand into hers without a hesitation in his step.

“You shall, my lady,” Link said with a genuine smile, Zelda’s own smile growing as they slowly forgot where they were, “dear Princess of Hyrule.”

The two started a waltz step, around and around, their movements so elegant and cohesive that their traveling gear would look out of place to anyone else.

But Zelda paid no mind, loving how her hair freely spun and swept around, no longer heavy like it once was, seemingly tied down to the earth below, rooting her in a castle she didn’t want to be.

She even loved the feeling of Links’ leather glove on hers, how much her outfit mirrored his, how in just a few months they grew closer, as if no time had passed in those one hundred years.

Zelda loved how much things had changed, but even so loved even more how many things hadn’t changed, his familiar smile still able to warm her heart.

It wasn’t until she locked her green eyes in his, forgoing bashful smiles and fleeting looks, that she realized how close they had inched together.

This time, quite literally, not even a centimeter between them as their hands lowered and clasped into each other.

Both of them were completely encapsulated by the other, an anticipatory pause hanging in the gap betwixt their heads.

“I…I’ve been here before,” Link said quietly, “in this moment, I mean.”

Zelda hung her head down ever so slightly, her happy eyes hidden from Link’s view.

“You remember that?” she said in the same tone.

“It just came to me,” Link continued as Zelda listened intently, “another memory…we were in the ballroom, dancing just like this. It was obligatory, we were expected to dance with each other, but…we ended up where we are now. I remember what I thought then, and I remember the thunderous applause that separated us, that marked the end of the dance.”

Zelda nodded, herself remembering as well, perhaps more vividly, but with just as much emotion.

“Things are different now,” she said quietly, not wanting to get her hopes up, but so much wanting to get her hopes up.

“Not everything,” Link said, Zelda looking back into his eyes when he did.

It was like something out of a dream as they leaned into each other, Zelda feeling such a euphoria of fulfillment when she felt his lips on hers that it must have been a dream.

Her heart seemed so weightless as the exchange continued, her eyes shut as if to focus on just this moment that was becoming in her mind, so very real.

It felt so good for it to be real, for him to be here, and not miles away, a distance that not only hindered her sight of him, but his own memory, a fog surrounding him, that she hoped for so long would fade away.

And now it had, Zelda almost as obsessed with the very sensation of touch as she was when she first emerged from Calamity Ganons’ grasp.

Feeling his fingers clasped in hers, how it felt to be this close to him, how it felt to, for the first time, be kissed on the lips.

They slowly pulled away, their eyes finding each other again.

It wasn’t a dream, he was here.

She felt so lucky to be consumed by love as they both let out a chuckle, of disbelief and of joy.

Yet, Zelda froze completely in a second, hearing ascending whispers echo from the very depths of the cave, her smile fading and her complexion paling.

It was obvious that Link heard it as well, watching Zelda with a deep breath and a worried glance.

The joy was gone as they were starkly reminded of where they really were, the sensations Zelda tried to ignore coming back all at once.

The harrowing cold, the growing stench, the empty cave, the feeling of darkness closing upon upon them.

Zelda bowed her head with an exhale, her eyes shut tightly as she started to tremble, tears falling without restraint. She unclasped her right hand from Link’s, bringing it to her mouth as she tried not to scream in agony, to cry out in fear, to yell in frustration.

She seemed to sink into herself as it worsened, shakily crumbling and breaking with every muffled scream.

Link hugged her without a word, both of her arms moving to rest on his shoulders, her hands clutching his downed hood.

“I can’t lose you again,” she squeaked as she buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, Link hugging tighter when he felt tears wet his tunic.

“I can’t,” she repeated weakly.

In all honesty, Link didn’t know that she wouldn’t, and he hated the thought of it. 

Just a few hours ago, this same girl was excited by the sight of etchings on cave walls, of ancient writings and languages she thought were only rumors. She was hopping from wall to wall, taking notes and spouting analyses with a childlike enthusiasm that Link had found charming.

But now, she was broken by fear.

“I’m here, Zelda,” Link said, almost starting to cry, “I’m right here.”

They couldn’t deny that their fear was growing, and whatever was down there, in that abyss of darkness, that whispering chasm, was undeniably the cause.

Something was about to happen.

#botw 2 #botw sequel #botw #breath of the wild #zelda #link #zelink #the legend of zelda

[shy-badger]

A Strange Moment in Time Ch.3

Callum couldn’t believe it. He was walking down the hallway to the throne room, with his mom and dad, a baby Ezran, and a young version of himself. He had so many questions. He bet that they all had a million questions between them, and yet everyone was in a sort of confused silence. There would be time to sort all of this out with Ezran, for now he just needed to root himself in the moment.

Rayla took his hand without a word. She could probably tell that he could use the help staying calm. Following her example Callum held his other hand out for his daughter. Callum felt better when Sarai took him up on the offer, and hand in hand, they led his old family to meet the rest of his new family.

Then, the doors to the throne room stood before them. Callum turned to his parents.

“Okay, before you meet Ezran, you should know, a lot of things have changed.” Callum raised his and Rayla’s hands a little to illustrate his point. “Elves and humans are no longer enemies. In fact there are many here today to help us celebrate the end of our hostilities. It’s not perfect, but we have peace.”

Harrow let young Callum down, standing tall again as young Callum moved behind his mom.

“There are so many questions I want answered, that I don’t even know where to start.” Harrow said.

“I know what you mean, but hopefully we can work through them together with Ezran.” Callum turned around and motioned to the clearly bewildered guards to open the door.

Ezran placed the marker on the map of the city, satisfied with the route he had planned out.

“I think this path would make it easier for the sick and elderly to see the parade from the hospital. They should be able to see it from the windows, without being close enough to disturb those that need rest. What do you guys think?” He eagerly waited for the response from his advisors.

Opelli spoke first, as usual. “My King, some of the roads along the way are rather narrow. It may require us to move more slowly to keep things in order.” Ever the voice of reason.

“That’s okay. It means that everyone will have more time to enjoy it.” Ezran responded smiling.

“If that is your wish. Though I may suggest we begin an hour earlier to avoid delaying the ball at the castle.” Opelli said.

“Is everyone else okay with that?” Ezran asked the others. The Katolin council members all nodded in unison, followed by similar responses from the elven diplomats. 

Then, with a loud clang, the throne room doors opened to reveal Callum and his family, with some guests behind him.

“Callum! I think we have the parade all mapped out. Now all we have to plan is the ball.” Ezran said. Then he noticed the people behind Callum and Rayla. It was their mom and dad, complete with little versions of himself and Callum. Ezran was shocked for a moment. 

“Um practicing your illusion magic?” he asked.

“Can we have the room please?” Callum asked the entourage of diplomats and advisors. After various salutes, and awkward shuffling and confused looks, the guards shut the doors.

“Callum?” Ezran asked when the group was alone. 

“Um so, we don’t know what is happening, but these aren’t illusions. I think these are really our parents.” Callum’s words were shaky, as though he only just realized it in that moment. Tears seemed to be forming in Callum’s eyes. Ezran was unsure of how to take the news. It was admittedly hard to see his parents just moments before when he thought they were illusions, but now he found his own eyes growing misty. It couldn’t be real. Right?

“How?” was all Ezran could muster.

“We’re not really sure. One moment we were in my study, the next a strange wind came out of nowhere, and we wound up here.” Harrow answered, still seeming in shock to see his baby boy as a full grown man. A King no less. The crown sitting on his brow just like Harrows, only fully connected, with what looked like olive branches bridging the gap that should have been an empty space between the uneven towers.

“Dad?” Ezran whispered. Before he knew what he was doing, he rushed forward and hugged Harrow. Now the mist in his eyes became fully realized tears. It was real. The man he was hugging was really his father. After a moment’s pause, Harrow wrapped his arms around Ezran, which caused Ezran to sob.

Ezran had no memories of his mom. He felt guilty, but all he could think about was that he had never said goodbye to his dad, and that made him hug Harrow even harder.

After sobbing a few more minutes, Ezran tried to compose himself and pulled away from his father.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have fallen apart like that.” Ezran said shyly. Harrow smiled softly.

“It’s ok. Even a king needs to let things out sometimes. You look like a mighty king indeed.” Harrow said. Ezran thought he might cry again, but held it back.

“Okay, so you said you were in your study when all of the sudden you were here?” Callum interrupted the moment to ask Harrow. Ezran saw the red in Callum’s eyes and knew that he had cried some too. If he had to guess, Ezran would say that Callum was trying to focus on the mystery at hand in order to avoid losing control of his emotions.

“Yes, I brought the kids in to say goodnight to their father when Viren came in. Shortly after a weird wind came from out of nowhere. When it died down… your wife came in the study asking what the noise was.” Queen Sarai answered, hesitating with a tone Ezran couldn’t quite place. There was no malice behind it. After, Callum had everyone involved recount every detail they could remember about what brought the family from the past. 

“Hm, well obviously none of you used any spell that would have done this, and I’ve never heard of ANY magic backfiring in this way, not even dark magic. And if it was something in the past that brought you forward, then we would have known already that something had happened to make the royal family disappear. So maybe something happened here in the present to bring you here?” Callum was talking mostly to himself at this point. Ezran heard a little yawn, and saw the culprit was none other than young Callum.

“Hey, um, Mom? You said that you were letting Dad say goodnight to us right? Well why don’t we let these two get some sleep after all.” Ezran offered, holding a hand out towards the throne room doors.

Callum looked at the younger version of himself and his little brother and his face twisted with guilt.

“I’m sorry guys, I didn’t mean to keep you up. I should have got you some rooms.” Callum said.

“Well Dad, you and mom can use the royal suite. The bed is a bit too big for me still, I'll take a room near Callum until we figure the rest of this out. We can even get some beds for you two brought in there so you can still be close to mom and dad. How does that sound?” Ezran directed the last bit to young Callum to try and make him feel better. The whole time he hid behind Queen Saria’s legs. Young Callum seemed to cheer up a bit knowing he wouldn’t have to sleep far from the only people that made him feel safe in this crazy situation.

“Hey, are you ok?” Rayla asked Callum as she climbed into their bed for the night.

“I don’t even really know. I mean, this is all so crazy. Am I going to wake up tomorrow and find out all of this was a dream?” Callum asked, staring at the ceiling.

“I don’t know. But I mean, it’s your parents. You gave me back my whole family and we both wished that you could have yours back. Now here they are. Maybe not in the way we would have expected, but they’re here. Love, I hope this becomes something amazing for you.” Rayla meant that. For everything he had done to reunite her with Runan, her mother, and her father, Callum had no chance of ever being with his own mother and father again. Or so she had thought. The world would always be a strange place.

Rayla kissed his cheek and laid her head on his chest.

“Don’t stay awake too long thinking about it. We can deal with it in the morning. I love you. Goodnight.” Rayla closed her eyes, knowing that it would take her husband much longer to find the rest he would need.

“Goodnight Rayla. I love you too.” Callum whispered to her, sweet and grateful to have her with him.

#Fanfic #TDP #The Dragon Prince #King Harrow #Queen Sarai #Callum #Rayla #King Ezran #Hopefully future chapter's will turn out better

[eldritchsurveys]

970.

Let’s start off on a high note, who was the last person to make you smile? >> King Crimson.

How many people have you had real strong feelings for since school started this year? >> ---

you’re getting ready to go to bed and the last person that you kissed shows up, what do you say? >> I mean, that’s normal.

I say boys, you say? >> I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.

Are you dating the last person that you text messaged? >> I’m married to the last person I text-messaged.

Do you think that it’s cute when someone kisses your forehead? >> I don’t want anyone outworld to do it because for some reason I associate it with being patronised or something. I don’t know how to process affection correctly, remember? But Inworld it’s nice.

If someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say? >> I’d need more context than this.

What does the last text in your inbox say? >> Sparrow was telling me that she had to take her mother’s car back to her after work.

What do you think the last person that you kissed is doing right now? >> Just hangin’ out.

Do you think that someone has feelings for you? >> It’s possible.

Do you still talk to the person that you last kissed? >> Of course, it was only like an hour ago lmao.

Will you be in a relationship one month from now? >> I assume so.

Was your last text message from a girl or boy? >> A woman.

Are you easy to get along with? >> I suppose that depends on who you are. I assume that I’m not easy to get along with because so few people have made a real effort to do so outside of casual interaction, which must mean that... it’s not worth it??? I don’t know how else I’m supposed to interpret that.

Is there a song that, every time you hear it, you think of someone? >> Probably.

Does it bother you when you text someone and they take forever to respond? >> Only if the text is time-sensitive. Like one time I texted Sparrow to ask her to remind me which flavour of chips was the one she liked while I was in the grocery store and she took fifteen minutes to respond and I couldn’t really do anything that whole time except... stand around in the store, lol. It wasn’t her fault or anything, and I got over it because it wasn’t a big deal, but it did bother me because I felt stupid just standing around.

Have you ever had a pet goldfish? >> No.

Where was your default picture taken? >> ---

Can you play guitar hero? >> Absolutely. Not as well as I used to, because I don’t play it constantly anymore, but I can still play pretty decently.

Has anyone ever told you that you have pretty eyes? >> Yes.

Do you think that age matters in a relationship? >> I’m so sick of this question I could spit.

Are you short? >> Relatively, I guess. Not to the point where it’s a source of angst.

Who was the first person that you texted in 2013? >> Ha, okay.

Can you honestly say that you’re happy right now? >> I’m neutral right now.

Is there anything stressing you out currently? >> No.

What’s something that you cannot wait for? >> The Dinnerly box to get here because I want to listen to music on my headphones but I can’t listen to music and listen for the doorbell. Arrrghghghh.

What was your favorite grade? >> ---

Do you miss someone? >> No.

Would you ever get a tattoo? >> Of course.

Do you like to sit in the sun and tan when it’s hot out? >> I like to sit in indirect sunlight (direct is too bright and intense for me to weather for more than a few minutes). I don’t do any tanning, seeing as I’m already dark-skinned.

Do you worry too much? >> No.

How many people with the name Taylor do you know? >> Zero.

Are you currently looking forward to tomorrow? >> Not particularly, nothing special is happening tomorrow.

Favorite color? >> Gold.

Favorite number? >> 9 / 19.

did anything bad happen to you in september? >> It is September, and nothing bad has happened to me so far.

When you’re at the beach, do you swim or lay out? >> I just lounge around under an umbrella. I might go splash in the surf a couple of times, but other than that there’s really not much for me to do at the beach except just chill.

How’s your day been? >> It’s still early, so it’s mostly been... uneventful.

What were you doing at eight this morning? >> I think I was reading an article.

This time last year, what was your relationship status? >> Engaged. Everything was the same Inworld.

How old will you be in three years? >> 36.

What were you doing at four am? >> Sleeping.

What holiday is closest to your birthday? >> Memorial Day. Sometimes they coincide.

Are you afraid of shots? >> Not at all.

How many letters are in your middle name? >> Six.

Do you wear the hood on your hoodies? >> Usually. I like the hooded feeling. Unless it's hot out, but if it is, I'm not going to be wearing a hoodie anyway.

Ever liked someone who treated you like crap? >> Unfortunately.

What color shirt do you have on right now? >> Black.

How’s your hair looking? >> Buzzed.

What are you thinking about right now? >> Finishing this survey.

When was the last time that someone of the opposite sex gave you a hug? >> I don’t remember.

Has anyone ever called you a bitch? >> Sure.

What was the last non-alcoholic beverage that you had? >> Water.

Have you consumed alcohol in the last thirty-six hours? >> Yes.

Did anything brighten up your day? >> Not particularly.

Would you rather write in pen or pencil? >> Pen.

Do you have an older sister? >> ---

Are you going to go to college? >> No.

Could you date someone who can’t make you laugh? >> ---

Are you wearing your favorite color right now? >> Black is a colour I like. But I’m not wearing any gold, except my jewelry.

Has anyone upset you today? >> No.

Where did you stay three nights ago? >> At home.

Describe how you feel right now in one word? >> Neutral.

Do you find it hard to trust others? >> Yes.

What are you listening to? >> I put music on after all, because I hadn’t realised the garbage truck was still going around and it’s so loud when it’s emptying the dumpsters. So I decided to just... try to watch out for the Dinnerly delivery from the window. :V The song is Disturbed’s cover of If I Ever Lose My Faith in You.

Would you say that you’re emotionally strong? >> I’m working on it.

are you ready for kids right now? >> No.

Who will you never forget? >> ---

Were you an adorable baby? >> I mean, I don’t know, probably.

Are you attracted to someone right now? >> Inworlders as usual.

Are you happy with who you’re becoming? >> I feel a lot of ways about my current process of becoming. Hopeful is probably a more accurate positive feeling than happy.

Do you want children? >> No.

Has anyone of the opposite sex ever written you a song? >> No.

Was last night enjoyable for you? >> It was enjoyable to be in my bed with freshly laundered sheets after a harrowing day in my head, sure.

Do you change your phone background a lot? >> I rarely change it.

How’s your heart lately? >> Beating along.

Do you want to tell someone how you feel? >> ---

Has anyone told you that they don’t ever want to lose you? >> Of course. It’s one of those things people say, innit?

What’s the last thing that made you smile? >> I don’t remember.

Would you rather take a relationship really slow or really fast? >> Uh. I'd rather they commence at the pace that feels most comfortable. Some relationships -- the short kind, which can still be fun if you both agree that it's a fling and not meant to last, are usually fast by design. People discount flings, but I will always think they're valid relationships.

If someone was interested in you right now, would you like for them to tell you? >> I mean, I don’t care. They can tell me if they like, but if they expect anything special to happen after that then they should probably learn something about me before making declarations like that.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? >> Eight or so.

Who did you last yell at, and why? >> I don’t remember. It’s been at least a year, I’m sure.

Is your best friend pissing you off at this exact moment? >> ---

Where was the last place that you fell asleep other then your bed? >> A bed in the Wayland house, I’m assuming.

Would you rather love one person or have many short relationships? >> ---

Do you remember who you liked three months ago? >> ---

Have you ever liked someone that you didn’t expect to like? >> ---

when applying eyeliner, which eye do you do first? >> Left, I think.

Do you remember the first time that you kissed the last person that you kissed? >> No, lmao.

Is there anyone in the room with you? >> Nope.

do you own a pair of skinny jeans? >> Unfortunately.

Where will you be in five hours? >> In the living room playing FFXIV, most likely.

Would you rather get a new puppy or a new car? >> ---

How many exs have you talked to today? >> Zero????

When you hold hands, do you interlock fingers? >> ---

Do you have both a loud side and a quiet side? >> No, I’m just pretty quiet all around. Even my “loud” is still comparatively pretty quiet.

How do you handle difficult people? >> What does “difficult” even mean, really? 

#surveys #survey #random survey