Ice-blasts

can you believe how many canon pick up lines lance has?

  • “you’re out of this world”
  • “what do you know mullet”
  • “it’s meow or never”
  • “you know lance n keith neck n neck”
  • “you are looking feline!”
  • “oooh are you scared?”
  • “i think you’re clawsome!”
  • “shut your quiznak”
  • “you’re the most beautiful girl in the world….i ain’t lyin’ (lion!)”
  • “we did it. we are a good team”
  • “i better use my ice blast…because my heart is on fire”
  • “keith, buddy, my man?”
  • “you’re outta this world, and i would know!”
  • “sharp work samurai”
  • “i’m homesick for earth, but lovesick for you”
  • “jealousy thy name is keith”
  • “keith the other one”
  • “sorry shiro, i was trying to hit keith”
  • “i think you’re purr-fect”
  • “i’d recognize that mullet anywhere!”
  • “i’d be blue without you”
  • “and keith is always doing things like flying into asteroid fields and cool junk like that”

he has so many :///

During Training.. 
Pidge: Nice work Tailor
Lance: Thank you, thank you very much
Keith: wait what
Hunk: It’s a nickname Lance got his first year of flight school
Lance: Yeah because of how I thread the needle
Keith: 
Keith: *intense Garrison crush flashbacks*
Shiro: *uproarious laughter*

(I wrote this in two forms and couldn’t decide which I liked better, so there’s a full fic under the cut)

Keep reading

9

It’s 12AM PST on February 24 which means it officially @appynation ‘s birthday!! She’s the absolute best and deserves all the happiness in the world. Go wish her a happy birthday! <3

I made her a series of Lance pick up lines because I know how much she loves Lance. It entertains me that ALL of these are canon, aside from the ocean one (but it may as well be). Enjoy!!

Ride or Die [M] (JBxReader)

Originally posted by magiccastles

Genre: Smut/Angst

Pairing: Gangster!Jaebum(but actually very soft!jb) x You

Warnings: Nothing much, just some makeup sex and a little drugs

Summary: Jaebum’s mad. Mad that you left without a word, and now he’s giving you back what you started.

Word count: 2k

Your name: submit What is this?

The wind tangled its fingers in his hair, blowing back every strand of hair on his head. 145 km/h was far off the speed limit, but he slammed down hard on the acceleration pedal anyway. He started to sit up, and then sank back weakly into the leather chair, a grimace washing over his face.

“Pass me another smoke,” he said impassively, red eyes still focusing intensely on the road. You hastily rummaged through the glove box for his packet of Marlboro ice blast, just the way he liked it. You would joke that that was his favourite flavour because it went along well with his unamiable personality. Ice cold indeed. Except that today wasn’t a good day for laughing matters. You smacked the box a few times with the palm of your hand and passed a stick to him. He picked it up with his mouth and nodded his head towards the lighter nesting in the cup holder. Getting the signal he was trying to bring across, you helped him light up his cigarette while he took in a deep breath of the sharp mint. Clouds of white escaped his lips with each puff, fading out through the window into the inky night.

“You think it was fun going to the club without telling me your whereabouts? You like guys seeing you in those skimpy clothes?” Jaebum said condescendingly.  You kept silent, not wanting to aggravate his temper by saying the wrong words, but that only added fuel to his anger. He passed you a quick glance, mouth set and eyes bleak.

“Not gonna say anything? Cat’s got your tongue missy?” He made an abrupt turn onto the side of the road, making you fling forward from the sudden jolt.

Thank goodness the seatbelt was holding you back.

Jaebum turned to face you, exhaling smoke in your direction. You coughed at the strong scent of nicotine.

“Jaebum, it isn’t a big deal. Why are you making a mountain out of an ant hole?” You folded your arms across your chest.

“Not a big deal? My girlfriend- MY girlfriend was at a club with devious men simpering at her and just look at what you’re wearing. That dress barely covers your ass. How dare you, y/n.” He berated, taking another hit. The red, angry glow of the cigarette seemed to grow brighter. You could feel the tension between the both of you heightening.

“Baby, I just wanted to have some fun with the girls tonight. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, okay?” You said coolly. “Please don’t be mad.” You reached for his arm and gave it a tight squeeze.

“Don’t call me that.” Jaebum yanked his arm away and flicked the cigarette out of the window, letting it burn into ashes. A faint snigger found its way into the gloomy air. He rolled his neck and ran a hand through his hair. Your vision was blurry from the misty silhouette of the remaining smoke wafting around your heads. In that moment of discomfort, you found yourself choked up with shame. Jaebum rarely fought with you, and even if he did, he always gave in at the end. This time was different though. That action of yanking his arm away made you feel lousy; your efforts to mitigate the problem didn’t work. The alcohol had kicked in as well, feeding your deranged state. You prayed silently that you would pass out before things escalated. Jaebum was never one to break down easily, but when it came to you, he was putty in your hands.

“How would I know if you won’t do the same thing again?” A whimper made its way through his trembling words. He had completely lost to the high. You could barely see properly, but you knew from the hitching in his voice that he was about to dissolve in tears. “I can’t have other men looking at my girl like that. You’re mine, mine. All mine.”

Hearing his soft sniffles, it made you bite the inside of your cheeks. You never wanted to hurt him. However tough he appeared, he was just a delicate piece of glass.

Suddenly, drizzle started falling from the sky, rolling down the windshield in a steady stream. Jaebum sighed, then reluctantly rolled up the windows and turned on the heater. He removed his spiked leather jacket and threw it on the backseat. All he had on was a white tank top and fitting ripped black jeans. He gripped firmly on the steering wheel, averting his emotions somewhere else. You shivered as his well toned arms contracted at the same time as your heart did. His arm was a canvas for a long, ridged scar that ran from his shoulder to his elbow. But he wore it proudly- a reminder of fiery escapades that once fascinated him. The windows condensed under the contrast of temperatures as heat built up in the car, lending privacy before the other cars that drove past.

“You’re fucking beautiful, y/n.” Jaebum blurted, brushing his fingers over your cheek. He leaned towards you and planted sloppy kisses on your lips, his breath still lingering of menthol. In your daze, you threaded your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

He answered you with another kiss, this time exploring the insides of your mouth. His insistent mouth parting your shaking lips, tongue fighting for dominance over yours. You pulled away from the kiss, only to be greeted by look of immense desire etched on his face. It was so clear that you wondered where he’d hid it for so long. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin below his ear. He responded with a soft groan, low in his throat, and then lowered his chair as you climbed on top on him. Your dress rode up your hips as you unsteadily straddled his lap. Putting your weight on him, your chests collided, melting into each other. Other than the scent of cigarettes, you inhaled his citrusy cologne, his shampoo, the scent that was just… him. The tiny car offered little to none space to manoeuvre; nothing could contain the excitement growing in your core. The persistent pounding in your head added to the numbness you felt as his fingers brushed roughly against your laced panties. Just one stroke of his skilful finger sent wild tremors along your nerves, evoking sensations you never known you were capable of feeling.

“I’m mad. Still mad, and this is your punishment.” With an impatient hand, he drew your underwear down your thighs – and did even quicker work of removing his pants. You fumbled lifting your dress off your head until Jaebum ripped it away and threw it onto the backseat. He grabbed your ass harshly, not caring if his nails dug into your skin, and gave it a firm smack. Your body responded by jerking towards him, your long hair hovering over his face. He pulled back your hair with one hand and with the other, firmly cupped your chin.

“I’ll show you what it means by being mine.” He dipped his hand into your glistening pussy, rubbing harshly at the bundle of nerves. Your legs shook at the sensitivity and your fists grabbed fiercely at his white tank. You wanted more, you wanted to taste every inch of his body. Similarly, he wanted to eat at your intoxicated lips, down to your sweet cunt. His fingers pierced through your body like a bullet, plunging them in like there was no tomorrow. As your essence covered his fingers, you couldn’t help but to mew in pleasure. Two fingers working in you, a little uncomfortable but nothing you couldn’t handle. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he crooked his finger, hitting you in the spots that made your moans turn into a high-pitched orgasm.

“F-fuck… It feels so good.” You slurred. His bulge throbbed in his pants and you could feel it thumping against your sex. You were seeing two of him, daze washing over you.

“Tell me how much you want it,” he growled into your ear. You squirm beneath his touch, body aching for more of him. You squeeze his thigh hard, leaving red imprints.

“So fucking-” another moan escaped your lips as you ground your convulsing pussy on his thick thighs.

“So fucking badly.”

Jaebum mewed at the sensation of your wetness on him. His cock was rock hard and pulsing repeatedly against your abdomen.

“This badly?” He wantoned, sliding the tip of his member over your slit. He pushed his head in ever so slightly, only to remove it again and again.

“Please,” you begged. “Please Jaebum, give it to me.”

He continued to tease you, slapping his cock against your clit. You let out a loud gasp as you clenched your toes, every muscle drawn taut. You whined as you pleaded for his thick cock to fill you up. You wanted to relish in the feeling of his warmth in you, reaching deep into your womb. His cock was now red, hot and angry; the head of his penis tingled unbearably, a drop of precum forming at the slit. Sensing how much he wanted you as well, you lift yourself above his hips, and then sunk yourself down. Rotating your hips around him, you found a good tempo with the buckling of his hips. He bit down on his lips hard, a vein on his neck becoming visible. Your eyes flutter and you are lost in bliss.

“You are mine,” he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal brutal.

“Mine,” he swears. He doesn’t slow the movement, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing off your chest. In that moment, nothing seemed to matter except for him sliding in and out of you. You slide your hands down his biceps, tracing the scar, clamping your legs around his waist, driving him further into you until your sweat-slick bodies stain the car seat. His face winces as your velvet insides envelops him into paradise.

A familiar heat buzzes in your belly, but he is still ruthless, wanting to engrave himself into you. Jaebum continues at it, this time with even harder thrusts. The sound of skin slapping became even louder.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. y/n, you feel so good on my dick.” He ran his hand over your chest, rolling your bud between his fingers, pinching and pulling at it.

Your back arches as you feel his dick pulsing in your sex. You guide his hand to your clit and used it to rub it hard.

“I’m, I’m cumming babe.” You cry as Jaebum pounds even harder than before. The car shook underneath his primitive act.

“Wait for me, y/n.” He says, and with one last pinch to your clit, you can feel yourself losing control of your body.

Both of you crumble into sand as your orgasms pierces through your bodies. He empties his viscous fluid in you and pulls out, some spilling on your stomach. You squirm at the feeling of his hot cum in you, amazed at how he fills you up so well every time. He uses a finger to swipe the cum off your slit and puts it into your mouth. You obediently lick it all off.

He reaches to the back of the car for your clothes and helps you put it back on.

“Are we okay now?”

Jaebum nods and pulls you into another heated kiss.

“Don’t do it again.” He pants, chest heaving heavily.

But if he’ll punish you with such means each time, you’re not sure if you won’t do it again.

Legends.

“Do you think we’re going to be legends?”

The question is simple on the surface, asked in the lilting, dreamy tone that Rina uses for everything that happens outside of a fight.  She’s a beautiful flower of a girl, the finest rose ever to grow in the gardens of Jupiter.  No one had expected her to be chosen as her planet’s protector.  The good money had been on her younger sister, which would have put Sailor Jupiter a year behind her cohort, yes, but age differences among the Senshi are not unknown–have even helped to forge some of the strongest teams in the long history of the solar system–and Rina had always seemed singularly unsuited for the battlefield.

It was a concern that has been proven groundless over and over again.  Rina may be a dreamer, but when she calls thorns up from the soil, she can destroy the enemies of Crystal Tokyo with as much efficiency as any soldier since the dawn of the second Silver Millennium.  She is a soldier to her core, this dainty little figure with rose briars in her hair, and so her questions are given the same weight that is afforded to any of the others.

Masami is the first to answer, twisting a ribbon of flame between her fingers as she says, “I hope not.”

“Why?”  Rina frowns as she turns, the motion knocking flower petals from the rose-colored cascade of her hair.  "Don’t you want to be remembered?“

"Becoming a legend means fighting something so big, so terrible, that no one dares forget about it, lest it come again.  I don’t want that.  I want to fight small battles, the kind you can defeat before dinner.  The kind that never get anywhere near our Princess.”  Masami shakes her head.  "She deserves better than to live in a time of legends.  We all do.“

"Don’t you want to live up to the legacy of your planet?  Don’t you want children to argue over who gets to be Mars when they play at recess?”

Masami smiles.  "No.  Let them fight over Uranus and Neptune and Mercury, if they want to play at living now; they fight enough to be Mars when they play at living in the past.  Mars is beloved enough without making me its latest legend.  I am at peace with the Senshi who came before me.“

"Easy to say, when they don’t point at you and call you the weak one,” murmurs Rina.  The dreaminess is gone from her tone, replaced by something darker: bitterness.  Regret.

Masami sits up straighter.  "What are you saying?“

"That maybe Jupiter chose wrong.”  Rina stands, shedding more flower petals as she goes.  "Maybe my planet would have been happier with someone who could be a legend.“

"You don’t know what you’re–”

“I think she knows exactly what she’s saying, don’t you?”  There’s nothing dreamy about this question.  This question is bright, painful cheer, the kind of brilliance that blinds without enlightening.  Masami stiffens.

There’s time, she thinks, her hand inching toward her transformation wand.

When the heel slams down on her wrist, grinding the bones against the ground, she doesn’t scream.  She’s proud of herself for that, for an instant.  Then all the world is burning light, and she’s screaming, and there’s nothing to be proud of anymore.  Nothing at all.

*

Natsuki rarely transforms.  She rarely needs to.  The Moon is at peace, and with it, the solar system; there are no dangers within or without for her to face.  She still trains with her Senshi, and watches as they train with her mother’s Senshi.  She enjoys the feeling of strength and swiftness and, yes, serenity that comes with her transformation–but her time needs a Princess more than they need another soldier, and so she most often stands by her mother’s side, head bowed in polite deference, trying not to think about the day when all this will be her responsibility.  When she’ll trade her name for a crown and become Queen Serenity, just like her mother before her, and her mother’s mother before that, and back, and back, all the way to the beginning of everything.

Sometimes she wishes she’d lived in an earlier time, a time of legends, a time of battles that would actually need one more warrior for love and justice.  But most of the time she’s happy to be who she is, to be when she is, a daughter of the moon, nothing less and nothing more.  Most of the time.

When Mars and Jupiter are ripped away from her–her first Senshi and her last, her courage and her innocence, without whom she barely knows how to stand–the loss strikes her like a physical blow.  She falls to her knees in the hall, eyes blank, hands useless at her sides, the Silver Crystal pulsing in her chest.  She can’t breathe.  She can’t breathe.  How is it that there’s so much air in the world, so much air all around her, and she can’t breathe?

Their absence is a hole in her heart.  She barely finds her feet, barely finds the strength to grasp her locket and thrust her hand into the air.  "Moon.“

That’s the beginning, yes.  That’s who she is.  Sailor Moon, Moon Princess, Natsuki, daughter of Serenity, who will be Queen.  She has it.

"Prism.”

It hurts, it hurts so badly.  She can’t do this without them.  She was never supposed to lose them.  This isn’t the time of legends.  Her grandmother passed the crown in peace, fading as Serenitys always fade when their time is done, when the phase of the moon changes under their feet.  Her Senshi are her handmaids, her protectors, not her peers.  They’re supposed to be here.  They’re not supposed to leave her.

“Power.”

She’s never had power.  She’s never needed power.  She’s a princess, pretty and perfect and cosseted and raised in love, in love, in lo–

The ribbons wrap themselves around her, pink and blazing and perfect, as they have always been, each time they wrapped themselves around a daughter of Serenity’s line.  They count from the second Serenity, the one who truly founded the line that may last from here until forever; the one who knew love was a gift, and not a weapon.  There was no need for a Sailor Moon before the first Queen Serenity did her best to break the universe.  Sailor Moon healed it.  She has always been the Sailor of Healing, of Love, of Justice.  Of Necessity.  She is so much stronger than she knows.  She has to be.

The ribbons draw tight and Natsuki is gone, Sailor Moon in her place, moonlight-colored hair drawn into high odango, formal gown replaced by a skirt short enough to fight in, shoes designed to absorb the shock of her jumps, top tight enough to support her spine and protect her internal organs.  She gasps, glittering with the bright and terrible power of transformation, and runs.  Her Senshi need her.

*

Kaito and Souma walk hand in hand along the shore of the lunar sea.  Kaito hums to herself, and even untransformed, hears the sea humming sweetly back.  Souma is silent, but watches her with sloe-eyed adoration.  The wind that tangles in Kaito’s hair might as well be Souma’s fingers, pushing it away from the shorter Senshi’s face, leaving every scrap of her clear to view.

“See something you like?” asks Kaito.

“Always,” says Souma, and grasps her elbow, spinning her out, pulling her back, until Kaito is pressed against Souma’s chest, the two of them tangled in each other’s arms as they have been for so beautifully much of their lives.  Yoshiko rolled her eyes when they first came to her for training, until she found ways to chain wind and waves together, to turn two Senshi would refused to be parted into a single hyper-efficient weapon.  Not that they’ve ever been needed in that way; not that any of them have ever been needed in that way.  They live in peacetime.  They are Souma and Kaito before they are Uranus and Neptune, and they are happy.  Sweet stars, they’re happy.

Let the girls who stand closer to the Princess dream of becoming legends, of facing great dangers and carrying out noble missions.  Saturn leads.  Mars and Mercury advise.  Jupiter restores.  Pluto watches.  And Neptune and Uranus love.  What more could be asked of the protectors of a Princess?

The wind blows, carrying the scent of ice and emptiness.  Souma stiffens.  Kaito catches it immediately.  She pulls back, frowning as she scans her lover’s face.

“What is it?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.”  Souma looks over her shoulder.  "Something’s wrong.“

"Wrong how?”

“Wrong we should transform.  I think…I think the Princess needs us.”

They are peaceful people.  They are lovers walking on a shoreline.  They are transformed and gone in a matter of seconds, leaving a circle of glass where they were standing, sand melted by the force of their panic.  They do not run so much as they leap, verging on flight in the low lunar gravity as they chase down the source of the coldly blowing wind.  They have to hurry.  They have to hurry.  The farther they go, the more the certainty grows, in both of them, that time is running short.

The scent on the wind becomes a raging battle as they grow nearer.  Ice spires blast upward from the ground, encircled by the all-devouring shadows of Saturn’s attack.  Then there is a burst of silver glitter, and haste becomes panic.  Their Princess is fighting.  Sailor Moon is fighting.  If their Princess has been moved to transform, then–

The golden chain wraps around Neptune’s ankle and jerks her down, slamming her against the ground before she can find the breath to summon her attack.  Then there is no breath, there is no body, there is nothing but–

–screaming, screaming, because she is alone, yes, she is alone here on this world without a name.  How can Haruka have done this?  How could she go?  She didn’t have to go, she could have fought, could have stayed, could have conquered death itself with Michiru at her side.  They didn’t need forever, but they should have had more time, they should have had centuries, eons, time, and time, and time.  How dare she–

“Neptune!”

The name is familiar.  The voice is not.  For the first time in a thousand years, Michiru opens her eyes and looks at the battlefield, confusion breaking her usual calm.  A girl she doesn’t know flings ice with geometric precision at Jupiter, while another girl with hair as white as seafoam swings Saturn’s glaive in a defensive arc, holding Mars at bay.  In the center of the battlefield, a girl in what looks almost like Usagi’s fuku, but bleached, faded into pastels, fights…

Fights…

“Neptune?”

Michiru turns.

The girl in front of her is too young: that is the first of it.  They’re all girls on this battlefield, not yet women.  This one, with her golden hair and her too-familiar fuku, is no different.  She stares at Michiru with something caught between confusion and horror, and her eyes are a study in heartbreak.

“What did you do?” she asks.  She takes a step forward.  The wind whips around her, already rising, even though she has yet to shape it.  "Where is Sailor Neptune?  What did you do to her?“

Understanding crashes down like a wave.  "You’re so young,” Michiru whispers.  "You found each other so young.  How can she…I am so sorry.  I shouldn’t be here.“

Where is Kaito?!” demands this new Sailor Neptune, this sweet child, and raises her hands over her head.  "Tell me!“

"No!”  Michiru scrambles to her feet.  The old power moves through her, welcoming her home.  She knows the fight better than this child does.  She could grind her into gravel, and let…let…

She could have Haruka back, and all it would cost is the life of her replacement, this fresh-faced child who doesn’t understand how much she has to lose.  She could allow her selfishness to remake the world.

“I am so sorry,” she whispers, and, “Deep Submerge,” she howls, and the pretender, the successor, is washed away in the face of a superior opponent.

It won’t last long.  No version of Sailor Uranus will ever be that easy to take down.  Michiru gathers her strength and leaps, aiming for the source of this trial.

Sailor Venus–who remembers, who cannot age, who cannot die, who has never been released from service–is so deeply sunk into her battle against Sailor Moon that the blow to her side takes her by surprise.  She hits the ground on her hip, sliding hard, and before she can get her balance back, Neptune is there, her elbow held against Venus’s throat, a feral light in her eyes.

Minako smiles.  "There you are,“ she says, smug as Artemis with a bowl full of cream.  "You’re welcome.  But you hit the wrong target.”

“Put us back,” snarls Michiru.  "We’re the dead.  We’re the past.  Release us, and bring these children home.“

"You’re not the past,” says Minako, still smiling.  "You’re a legend.  Children play at being you, they fight over who gets to hold the mirror and the sword.  Little girls dance in your name.  You’re the present, and the future, and you deserve to live in peacetime so much more than the simpering little fool who pretends to hold your title.  Let me lead you home.“

"I won’t–”

“Before she died, Haruka said the only thing she’d regret was leaving you.”

Michiru hesitates.

Selfishness is essential on the battlefield.  There are those who would call it a failing, but without selfishness, what is there to lead the soldiers home?  Michiru was always a poet of selfishness.  She knew what she wanted.  She knew how far she was willing to go in order to get it.  She fought and she paid and she suffered and what was her reward?  Being left alone, last one standing, broken-hearted and fading by inches.  It’s tempting.  It’s so tempting.  She could have everything she ever lost, and all it would cost is one more enemy left to dust and ashes.  She’s been damned since she tempted Haruka out of her comfortable, safe life.  What’s one more damnation?

“No,” says Michiru calmly, and punches Venus square in the nose.  The golden Senshi reels.  "No,“ Michiru repeats, and punches her again.

She will reflect, later, on the fact that she could have won, if only she hadn’t looked so much like one of the enemy.

This new Uranus has her own attacks.  ”Wind Spiral Snare!“ howls a voice that isn’t familiar enough to avoid, and Michiru is lifted away from Venus, lifted into the air kicking and howling fury and frustration.

Venus pauses long enough to blow a two-fingered kiss, and then she’s gone, a golden streak heading for the horizon, Jupiter and Mars behind her.

The wind cage shatters.  Michiru drops to the ground on hands and knees.  When she raises her head, it’s no surprise to find Sailor Moon, this new, young, innocent Sailor Moon, standing over her with a scepter in her hand and vengeance in her eyes.  The others are behind her, Mercury and Uranus and Saturn, youth and fury incarnate.

"What have you done to our friends?” demands Sailor Moon.

Oh, to be so young.  Oh, to have so much to lose.

For the love of Serenity, thinks Michiru, and aloud, she says, “The legends are true,” and oh, they are so like she was, and so different.

They have so much left to lose.

***

Happy birthday, @docholligay!

Ache

My friends, my comrades, my compatriots, I am back! It’s been awhile, yeah? Sorry about that, I had to pass my classes and all that. But now it’s summertime and I am bored so like dang, let’s do some writing! This is for @societyslostone who gave me this prompt foreverrrr ago. Sorry this took so long! Hopefully it does not disappoint. Cross posted from AO3!

Prompt: Lance gets his leg dislocated in battle and Hunk and Keith have to hold him down while Shiro pops it back into place.

All that goodness below the cut!

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Someday Your Child May Cry

Previously: Question | Preparations | Irrational




4. Confession

With Scully taking a shift guarding Gibson, Mulder is free to take Diana to dinner, which he does. She fills him in- a bit- on where she’s been, these past six years, but since there’s a good deal she can’t tell him, they spend most of the meal talking about Gibson, about the possibilities he might represent. When they’re finished eating, Mulder drives Diana home.

In front of her building, Diana reaches across the center console, laying a hand on Mulder’s arm. Her soft smile takes him back years, back to the days before any of this… before cancer, before labs full of clones, before mysterious children appearing out of nowhere only to die… before Scully.

“Listen, Fox, why don’t you come up for a little while?” Diana asks him. “I don’t think either of us is ready for the evening to be over just yet.” Mulder hesitates. “Just to talk,” she reassures him. “We haven’t seen each other in years, Fox. I’ve missed so much since I’ve been gone… won’t you come up and fill me in on everything you’ve found since I left?”

Mulder glances at the clock on the dashboard. He’s due at the fertility clinic first thing in the morning… but it’s only eight-thirty, not really that late, especially not for him. He shrugs.

“Why not?” he says, and Diana beams. They get out of the car, and as he steps up onto the sidewalk beside her, she takes his arm, leading him into the swank apartment building. He gazes around the posh lobby as they pass through, impressed.

“Counter-terrorism must have paid a whole hell of a lot better than the X-Files,” he observes, as they step into a walnut-paneled elevator. Diana chuckles.

“I’ve made some wise investments over the years,” she says. “A few of them have paid off quite handsomely.” She cocks an eyebrow at him. “From what I understand, you could afford better than your Hegel Place apartment yourself, these days.” He ducks his head, and her face softens with sympathy. “I was sorry to hear about your father, Fox,” she tells him. “That must have been very hard. I know your relationship was… complicated.”

“To say the least,” grumbles Mulder. “What makes you think I inherited anything, though?”

“I assumed you would,” says Diana, as the elevator arrives on the seventh floor, and the doors slide smoothly open. They exit into a wide, stark-white hallway, and Diana leads him to the right. “I mean… there wasn’t anyone else to inherit his money, was there? Unless he willed it to your mother, which didn’t seem likely to me.” Mulder remains silent. Given the dubious origins of his father’s fortune, he doesn’t like to think about it that often, much less spend any of it… though, lately, he’s been wondering if maybe he could offer to pay for the next round of treatment for Scully, should tomorrow’s attempt prove unsuccessful.

“Yeah, he left everything to me,” he admits, finally. “I haven’t really felt the need to change the way I live, though. I’m fine the way I am.” They arrive at Diana’s door, and she lets them in. Her condo is spacious and lushly-appointed. It definitely doesn’t look as though she’s just moved in.

“It came already furnished and decorated,” she says, as he gazes around. “I traveled pretty light when I came back… I really didn’t want the added stress of putting together a place from scratch, not when I was anxious to get back to work as quickly as possible.” She crosses the living room to the bar along the wall, and from underneath, she brings up a bottle of Johnnie Walker. “Can I fix you one?” she asks, holding up the bottle, and he thinks for a moment. Dr. Parenti hadn’t said anything about alcohol. Mulder assumes that if it had been imperative that he abstain in the hours before his donation, the doctor would have mentioned it.

“Please,” he says, and Diana pours both of them a drink, bringing them over to the sofa and taking a seat. Mulder sits beside her and she hands him his glass.
It’s easy to talk to her, as easy as it had been when they’d first met, and Mulder relaxes within minutes. Diana listens attentively, refilling their glasses at regular intervals, as he relates the adventures that he and Scully have had over the past five years, the things they’ve done and discovered together, the near-misses and narrow escapes, the myriad of personal losses they’ve both suffered- her, especially. When he finishes, Diana is quiet for a moment, looking thoughtfully into her glass of whiskey.

“You and Agent Scully must be very close,” she observes. “To have gone through so much together. I didn’t realize how much….” Diana looks almost embarrassed. “I’m sorry that I was so dismissive of her before, Fox, when I said that you could have used someone to back you up. She’s obviously been much more supportive of you than I realized.”

“Yeah,” says Mulder softly. “She really has been… and she’s paid the price, that much is certain.”

“Are you….” Diana looks away again. “You and Agent Scully, are you-“

“Together?” Mulder finishes for her. “No… it’s not like that. She’s, uh… I mean, we’re close, she’s my best friend, but….” He shrugs, not quite sure how to sum up the frustrating enigma that is his ever-changing relationship with Scully these days. One way or another, he doesn’t feel right discussing her with Diana. Scully is one of the most private people he’s ever known in his life, and he’s relatively certain she would be horrified that Mulder has already told Diana as much as he has.

“Well, in that case,” Diana says, carefully placing her empty glass on the coffee table, “I don’t need to feel guilty if I do this.” She slides closer, taking his face in her hands, and presses her lips to his.

It’s been so, so long since someone has touched him like this, and he goes along without hesitation. The whiskey has fogged his mind just enough that any protests he could come up with are quickly drowned- at least, until Diana reaches for his belt. He pulls back sharply.

“Diana,” he says, struggling to master his breathing, “I can’t. I’m sorry.” Diana frowns in confusion.

“Is there someone else, then?” she asks. “Apart from Agent Scully?” Mulder shakes his head.

“No, there’s no one,” he says. “And at another time, I’d be all for it, it’s just… there’s something I have to do tomorrow morning, and I can’t… I mean….” He sighs. “Look, there’s no delicate way to say this, but I have to provide semen first thing tomorrow morning, and I’m not supposed to… uh… provide it in any other circumstances for at least forty-eight hours beforehand.” Diana smiles, amused.

“Fox, if you’ve inherited your father’s money, you can’t possibly be so hard up for cash that you’re selling that,” she chuckles.

“I’m not being paid,” says Mulder hastily. “It’s not like that at all. It’s, uh… it’s a favor, actually.” He swallows. “For Scully.” Diana’s face goes cold so quickly, Mulder can feel the blast of ice from where he’s sitting.

“You’re helping Agent Scully have a child.” He nods. “And then… what? Are you going to help her raise it?” He knows it’s going to upset her, but he feels like he owes her the truth.

“If she’ll allow me to, yes, I am,” he says. Diana looks away from him.

“So when I asked you about having children, and you told me you had no intentions of ever becoming a father… that was a lie?”

“No, Diana, it was true back then. But… I guess….” Diana stands abruptly and takes her glass back over to the bar, refilling it. “I’ve changed, Diana. My circumstances have changed, and I feel differently about it now.”

“What, specifically, has changed, Fox?” she asks coldly, her back still to him. “From what you’ve told me, from what you’ve learned, the world can’t possibly look any safer for a child than it did when you used that as en excuse for me. So what’s changed?” Mulder remains silent, and finally, Diana turns to glare at him. “Because from where I’m standing, the only change I can see is the woman you would be having a child with.” Mulder looks at the floor. “So what you’re really telling me, Fox, is that you didn’t want to have a child with me.” He could deny it, certainly, but he doesn’t. He nods. “But you would consider it with her?” He meets her gaze.

“Yes,” he says. “I would.” 

The last vestiges of warmth flee from Diana’s face. She tilts her glass back, draining it in one.

“I think you should leave now, Fox,” she says.

He doesn’t argue.

Originally posted by nataalek

“(Y/N), wait, wait, don’t let me go,” Kurt nervously clung to your arm, his skates continuously slipping out from underneath him.

“I promise you’ll be find Kurt, ice skating is a blast,” you shot him a reassuring grin.

“I-I don’t think so,” he stuttered, holding your arm in a death grip as if he might wipe out at any moment, and judging by his skating ability, well it was a possibility. 

“Come on, let go and just try for a few seconds on your own, okay?” Kurt shook his head furiously at your suggestion. You raised your eyebrows at him in response.

“Okay, okay fine, if I can help take down a god who planned on ruining the world, I can do this,” he smiled weakly.

“That’s the spirit,” you encouraged him, slowly prying his hands off your arm. Kurt’s arms immediately shot out, steading himself. Then he shuffled, moving forward at a snails pace, but moving nevertheless.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), I’m doing it, look I’m-” Kurt turned to look over his shoulder, and at the same moment, tripped over his own skate, tumbling forward onto the ice.

“Oh God, oh God, Kurt are you okay?” You were at his side in a second, I mean he hadn’t gotten very far. He gave you a thumbs up, laughing from his spot sitting on the ice, causing you to laugh as well.

“I’m good, cold, but good.”

Something Positive

Originally posted by kendrasauhders

Pairing: John Proudstar x Reader

Requested: Nope

Summary: John helps you control your powers.

GIF Not Mine


“Why am I up this early?” You asked as you followed John down a dirt path not far from the base.

“It’s ten in the morning” John pointed out, brushing the branch out of the way of the path to let you past.

“Exactly.” You groaned. “Why am I out here anyway?”

“Because…” He started as he lead you into the clearing in the middle of the trees. “I’m going to help you control your powers.”

You glanced around before shaking your head and turning to leave. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait, Y/N!” John called out after you causing you to stop in your tracks.

“No. You don’t understand these, these powers aren’t a gift they’re a curse.” You gestured to your hands, a cool mist coming from them. “They can’t be controlled.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Y/N. They can be controlled. They are a gift. You just got to think of something positive instead of letting it be controlled by anger and fear.”

You scoffed. “Easier said then done. Especially when you have nothing positive in life.”

“Let me help you.” John pleaded. You mulled his offer over for a few minutes knowing that he wouldn’t stop until you said yes.

“Ugh, fine. But I’m telling you that it’s going to be a waste of time.” You reluctantly gave in, rolling your eyes as you walked back to where John was standing. “What do you want me to do?”

“First, think of something positive. Something that you love.” You glared at John until you realised he was serious by the way his expression didn’t change.

“Let’s see…” You started, pretending to think about it. “Right now, I love a slice of the cheesiest pizza you can get.” You said deadly serious before a huge grin formed on your lips and John’s soon matching.

“A slice of the cheesiest pizza you can get?” John asked to ensure you are serious. You nodded in response, your lips still turned up into a grin. “That’ll do for now. Next, I want you to hit that bottle over there.” John pointed to a bottle that was stood on a rock just in front of a tree. You eyed the target and hesitantly brought up your hands in a fighting stance. You closed your eyes, taking a breath as you did and focused on the thing you love. As you did you felt your hands grow colder and then heard a blast of ice. When you carefully opened your eyes, you noticed the bottle was untouched but the tree behind it was covered in ice.

“Oops, my bad.” You shrugged.

“Again.” Was all John said. You widened your eyes at him wondering if he is serious but when you saw he was you tried again. This time with the same result as before. “Again.” He repeated. It went like this for a while until you couldn’t take it anymore. You were getting no where with controlling your powers and you were frustrated. It was shown by the fact you couldn’t stop your hands from emitting a cold mist around them. “Again.” John said once more, this time with a calmer tone.

“I can’t.” You yelled flashing your icy blue eyes that are a side effect of your powers.

“Yes you can.” He insisted reaching out to hold your hand but you yanked them away before he could. Afraid that you may hurt him. John went out on a limb and walked over to you with the intention on doing something he wanted to do since he met you. He was now standing in front of you with only a small gap separating you both. You turned away not wanting him to see you like this, see you without control. John cupped his hand around your cheek and crashed his lips onto yours. You tried to move away from him but he was much stronger than you. You could feel John getting colder, another side effect of your powers is that if they’re not under control they can hurt someone, like they are doing now. You didn’t want to hurt him. Quite the opposite actually, you liked John and you wanted to do this since the moment you saw him. Since then you had this connection that you couldn’t explain.

You shut your eyes, willing yourself to control your powers. As you did you no longer felt cold mist coming from your hands. Your icy white hair now turned back to Y/H/C. Your icy blue eyes now Y/E/C. John pulled away, gasping for air. You brought your hand up in shock of what just happened. “Oh, my god. Why did you do that? I could have killed you.” You exclaimed.

“But you didn’t.” John replied after catching his breath back.

“I could have.” You repeated, more calmer than before.

“But you didn’t. I knew that you could control your powers and you wouldn’t let me die.”

“What if I didn’t though? You were willing to die to help me?” You asked in disbelief that someone would be willing to die for you.

“Yes.”


Requests are open

MASTERLIST

Snezcanon: Voltron Edition

My take on something I know has already been done, sorry not sorry (?) <.< But In My Humble Opinion here’s the mains—

Allura: She’s got the dainty sneezes. The ones with the distinctly girly-sounding endings, like “hehttChiew!” However, for all her daintiness, she sneezes in threes, and on the third, her magic has a tendency to go haywire. This makes for some interesting times aboard the castle, and she’s never allowed to pilot when ill.

Coran: His sneezes are obnoxiously vocal, and usually contain a handful of gratuitous syllables (I think you can guess what I mean without me spelling it). He uses handkerchiefs religiously. Because every sneeze is a dramatic production, he gets exhausted really really quickly when he’s sick or allergic or what have you. Usually the Paladins and Allura have to force him to go to bed.

Shiro: Shiro’s sneezes blindside him almost without fail. This is a source of embarrassment for him because, regrettably, his sneezes are not discreet. He wishes he could make them more so, but he almost never realizes he has to sneeze until he has to sneeze. So he’ll be sitting quietly, minding his own business, when suddenly his lungs seize up and – “hahDJYSSCHhhuh!” (Pidge has been known to fall out of her chair) He’s usually good for one, unless he’s sick, in which case he sneezes intermittently and gets wicked headaches and sinus pain due to his scar….

Pidge/Katie: She’s got the kitten sneezes. Quiet but forceful, and many at once. She haaaates this because once she starts she knows there’ll be a good dozen before she’s finished, and it’s annoying as hell. Sometimes it’ll happen while she’s in the middle of working or worse, an explanation, and she tries (and fails) to continue typing or speaking every time.

Lance: Lance’s sneezes are ticklish AF. He’ll build up for a good several ticks before finally dissolving into mini-fits of 2-5 that take a lot out of him. His sneezes distract him horribly while they’re forming, which is bad news for everyone else usually (”Lance, watch where you’re aiming those ice blast - oh shit he’s gonna sneeze take cover”) and his eyes water like mad, especially with allergies. He’s also bad at remembering to cover, which gets him yelled at. A lot.

Keith: Keith is The Stifler of the bunch. He hates drawing attention to himself, so when he sneezes he can almost always do it near-silently, though if he’s sick it gets a lot harder and he has to physically pinch his nose and such. When he does let himself sneeze (i.e. when no one is around and/or he’s too tired to stifle) his sneezes are harsh and tear his throat. He sneezes twice without fail, occasionally in small fits of these pairs, but Lance has his sneezing patterns figured out and is inordinately amused (”hehGgKXt!” “hahaha okay waaait for it~~” “sh-shut uhh- hheGKkTSh-t!-dh - up!!”

Hunk: Hunk, amazingly, has the squeakiest sneeze of them all. He’s not quiet, per se, but his voice cracks and pitches higher when he sneezes. (first time it happened, everyone lost their shit. he was Not Amused) Like Shiro, he’s usually good for one, but he’ll be sniffly for a long time after, and sneeze again if he doesn’t blow his nose. 

Vital signs [1/1]

Heyo. This is for @katie-dub‘s hub prompt: CS+ cold+bed-sharing (but I’m pretty sure I added an extra trope in there. Huh. How ‘bout that.) Also, Katie wrote an awesome-sauce story which you can find here and @mahstatins wrote pain which you can find here. I highly recommend you read those and yell at them. Since I was there when this was going down, I thought it only proper that I add my contribution. So…here ye are. 

Words: 1k. 

Summary: An itty bit after Emma is saved from the ice cave. Post-4x02. 

Killian’s hand caresses her cheek, the lingering cold sending a stab of fear to his heart. They had managed to save her from that blasted ice cave, but he fears the damage has been done, Emma showing little signs of improvement. Storybrooke passes by in a blur as David speeds down the streets, and he catches the Prince’s concerned gaze in the small mirror, the look of panic in the lines around his eyes, which he tries to offset by the determined set to his chin. 

Elsa sits quietly at the front, hands wringing nervously in her lap, head bowed in guilt. Whatever victory she had felt at getting both Emma and her out of the ice cave has ebbed. He catches her  casting nervous glances back to Emma, her icy blue eyes filled with remorse. He wishes he has something that could reassure the newcomer; in truth, he’s afraid of what will happen should Emma-

No.

No, he’s not going to think about that now.

Keep reading

How the Rogues could save The Flash Season 4

This is for you @coldtomyflash, including absolutely NO actual spoilers for the real season, just an idea my husband and I had.

We don’t want another speedster villain any time soon, so what would be the best main villain for season 4? Why the Rogues of course, in their actual glory.

Imagine in the first half of the season, we get a focus on each of them separate - Shawna, Mark, Roy, Axel, Sam, Rosa, and Lisa. Add others as you like (I actually think Hartley MIGHT be back to being a villain because of Flashpoint, because Cisco made a comment about him being a dick, when in the previous iteration they seemed friendly).

Regardless of the members, Lisa is the one who tries to pull these Flash villains together, because obviously they suck at taking him down on their own. Why does she want to take down The Flash? Because she blames him for her brother’s death. 

But it’s a disaster when they try to team up. They are all even worse at working together, won’t listen to Lisa, no one can agree on who should actually lead, and whenever things are going well because Lisa is just as good of a planner as Len, one of them goes off script and ruins everything.

We’re hitting the mid-season finale when everything is just dissolving, the Rogues trying to oust or stage a coup over Lisa’s leadership, and she is holding her own despite being ganged up on, but well, guess she’s gonna have to kill someone (probably Mark) to get these idiots to listen, but before she can pull the trigger…there’s a blast of ice.

“Cool it, Lise. I’m sure we can come to an understanding.”

“…Lenny?”

Hiatus for the winter break hits just as Len steps into view, and we get the last half of the season with the Rogues kicking Barry’s ass because Lisa and Len running things together is far more efficient since they balance out each other’s weaknesses.

This is the REAL Len, somehow, I don’t care how, and he builds his Rogues to be the way they SHOULD be, getting the job done, but no innocents killed, and no killing The Flash.

Lisa would have this whole side story of hating Barry, not understanding why Len has a soft spot for him after what happened. It would be really angsty between her and Cisco at the start of the season too because they’d have to fight, and Cisco just wants her to understand that Barry meant well and never wanted Cold to get hurt.

“He died a hero!”

“He was only a hero because of you!”

But once Len is back, Lisa isn’t sure how she should feel.

Len wouldn’t try to change the other Rogues, just manage them to keep his city safe, but Lisa…Lisa he hopes he can help find what he found - balance, meaning, and who says they can’t have fun along the way and still be criminals?

Mick teams up with them when he finds out Len’s alive, but eventually goes back to the Waverider, while Len chooses to stay, so Mick bounces back and forth as needed. Maybe even Caitlin joins the Rogues, because she can let out her aggression while still following rules that keep her from being a killer.

As GoldenVibe trash, I would want there to be a sense of hope at the end for those two crazy kids to work things out once Lisa isn’t gunning for Barry anymore and forgives him.

But the important thing is that the Rogues aren’t really the main villain of the season. In the background the whole time would be Grodd, planning his vengeance on The Flash and Central City, and HE is the final boss, his appearance meaning that the Rogues would have to help The Flash or watch the city get destroyed.

When all is said and done, even if some Rogues are in jail, some splitting off because they don’t like the way Len and Lisa do things, Team Flash and the Rogues that remain have a rapport now, an understanding.

“Don’t think this means we’re friends, Flash,” Len says.

Barry shares a smile with Cisco, who shares a smile with Lisa, before he says, “Never.”

COMIC BOOK REFERENCES & EASTER EGGS - Thor: Ragnarok (2017)

Thor: Ragnarok sure didn’t disappoint—both as a film and a treasure trove of Easter eggs! The following is a guide to all the ones I’ve spotted along with any deviations from the source material (I will update this as more come to light). Note that owing to the convoluted and complex nature of comic books, I’ve tried to include only the most essential information regarding a character’s history and backstories.

Ragnarok in the Marvel Universe is very much like the Ragnarök of Norse mythology, essentially a cycle of life and death. Asgard is destroyed by Surtur (a fire demon from Muspelheim), with many of its citizens perishing. They are then reborn after some time, and the cycle starts all over again. The Ragnarok story the film mostly draws from spans Thor #80-85 (2004). During a mission to find out if Ragnarok can be stopped, Thor finds out that a group of gods known as Those Who Sit Above in Shadow consume the energy released from Ragnarok, and thus keep the cycle going. He resolves to end the cycle of Ragnarok by having it occur one last time. Thor then proceeds to destroy the Loom of the Fates, severing Asgard’s tie to Those Who Sit Above in Shadow. Of note, we have Thor’s hammer, Mjolnir, being destroyed in Thor #80 (though this is not the first time it has been damaged). And with Asgard having been destroyed during the story, Thor rebuilds it on Earth in Thor #2 (2007).

While this may be the third Thor film, it also adapts the “Planet Hulk” (The Incredible Hulk #92-105, 2006-07, Giant-Size Hulk #1, 2006) storyline as part of its narrative. The Hulk is sent into space by the Illuminati, the group believing that it was too dangerous for him to remain on Earth. Instead of landing on a planet without sentient life as intended, the Hulk’s shuttle goes off course and crashes on Sakaar where he’s enslaved and forced to fight in gladiatorial battles for the Red King. It is from this story that the film adapts Hulk’s gladiator costume, while the Hulk wearing beads is a look taken from Ultimate Wolverine vs. Hulk #1-6 (2005-09).

In both media, Korg is a Kronan who was enslaved on Sakaar. In the comics, however, he arrives on Sakaar after his ship crash lands on the planet while trying to get back home. He went on to became a member of the Warbound, a group led by the Hulk that started a rebellion and overthrew the Red King. Also a member of the Warbound is Miek. Both incarnations are members of the insectivorid race called Natives. Unlike his cinematic counterpart, the comic book version can actually speak.

Thor threatening Loki by having Mjolnir return to him while he holds onto the trickster god is taken from The Mighty Thor #359 (1985), though in the issue he uses the tactic to have Loki undo a love spell. In the film, Loki apologizes to Thor for the time he turned him into a frog. This has indeed happened in the source material, occurring in The Mighty Thor #363 (1986). Thor, in his civilian guise, banging his “umbrella” down to reveal his Asgardian garb is a nod to how Donald Blake would strike down a stick (a disguised Mjolnir) to transform into the god of thunder. During the final battle, Thor loses an eye to Hela. A one-eyed Thor does exist in the comics—the Thor of Earth-14412 who is king of Asgard.

Skurge is a half-Storm-Giant-half-Asgardian warrior who earned the moniker “the Executioner” after slaying many Storm Giants in battle. His double-bladed axe allowed him to open dimensional rifts and could produce blasts of ice and fire. Skurge aiding Hela in the film is similar to how he often helped the Enchantress with her schemes (albeit, manipulated into doing so). Skurge dying while fighting on the side of good is similar to how he meets his demise in the comics. In The Mighty Thor #362 (1985), Skurge dies while holding the bridge of Gjallerbru (using automatic rifles!) against the creatures of Hel, allowing Thor and his companions to escape.

In the comics Hela is goddess of death and ruler of Hel and Niffleheim. She is the daughter of Loki and Angrboda—a detail understandably not carried over into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Thor having a sister, however, does have precedence in the source material, though it is Angela who is the thunder god’s sibling, not Hela. Hela’s powers include enhanced strength, energy projection, teleportation, illusion casting, levitation, and the ability to kill Asgardians when in contact with their skin. She becomes weakened if her cloak is ever removed, and her true form is revealed, the left side of her face appearing decayed. Hela’s ability to manifest weapons in the movie is taken from Gorr the God Butcher. In fact, her line “What are you the god of?” is another thing taken from Gorr—a question he poses to Thor in Thor: God of Thunder #2 (2012).

The Grandmaster/En Dwi Gast is an Elder of the Universe who has a penchant for playing and collecting games. He possesses a vast intellect and, like his fellow Elders, doesn’t age and is virtually immortal. The blue marking running from the Grandmaster’s bottom lip down to his chin is a nod to the character’s blue skin in the comics. The Grandmaster refers to his gladiatorial battles as the “Contest of Champions,” referencing the limited series of the same name (Marvel Super Hero Contest of Champions #1-3, 1982). The story sees the Grandmaster challenging Death for the chance to resurrect his brother, the Collector, with both sides using heroes from Earth as pawns.

Brunnhilde/Valkyrie is an Asgardian warrior and leader of the Valkyrior, a group tasked by Odin to bring the slain worthy heroes to Valhalla. She wields a virtually indestructible sword called Dragonfang and rides winged horses. In the comics the character has blonde hair (there is a nod to this in the film with a blonde haired Valkyrie saving Scrapper 142), while the cinematic incarnation has black hair. The MCU Valkyrie’s moniker of Scrapper 142 is a reference to The Incredible Hulk #142 (1971), the first appearance of Samantha Parrington as Valkyrie.

Bruce Banner’s analogy of how when the Hulk is in control he feels as though the Hulk is driving the car while he’s locked in the trunk is lifted from The Totally Awesome Hulk #1 (2015), which features Amadeus Cho as the green goliath.

Fenris Wolf (simply referred to as Fenris in the film) is a large wolf with the ability to change its form into that of a wolf-like humanoid. Though he isn’t Hela’s pet in the comics, she did enlist his help to bring about Ragnarok in The Mighty Thor #277 (1978).

Adorning the Grandmaster’s tower on Sakaar are head sculptures of Man-Thing (guardian of the Nexus of All Realities), Beta Ray Bill (a Korbinite warrior who wields the hammer Stormbreaker), Ares (Olympian god of war), and Bi-Beast (an android with two heads, one on top of each other).

There has in fact been a group called the Revengers in the comics. Led by Wonder Man, the group attacked the Avengers, believing that the super hero team does far more damage to the world than they do helping it.

In terms of MCU Easter eggs, the most notable would have to be Thor turning to Doctor Strange to help him track down Odin. Then there are the numerous callbacks to previous films: the play recounts Loki’s “death” from Thor: The Dark World, Hela points out that the Infinity Gauntlet in Odin’s vault is fake, the Tesseract is seen once again, Loki points out that he’s Thor’s adopted brother, Hulk thrashes Thor in a similar manner to what he did to Loki in The Avengers, Thor attempts to use Black Widow’s lullaby to calm the Hulk, the code word Thor has to use to activate the Quinjet is “Point Break” (Tony Stark’s nickname for him in The Avengers), Valkyrie suggests going to Asgard via Xandar, and Bruce attempts to turn into the Hulk by falling from a height (as he did in The Incredible Hulk).

Velaris (Part 3, Deleted Scene): Rhysand’s Mother

**Usually when I delete something, I just let it go entirely. This time I really didn’t want to do that. This segment just doesn’t fit with the tone I want to set for the upcoming chapter of “Velaris” (happy, Kristen, keep it happy), but I think it is really great all the same, so I decided to share it. The main chapter will be posted tomorrow, but here’s a little something that, again, I loved, but I don’t want to strike this darker tone.

Summary: On a winter morning in Velaris, Azriel remembers Rhysand’s mother.

Originally posted by winter-capricorn

Tagging the usual “Velaris” people, just in case they’d like to see:  @aelin-and-feyre​, @hellosparkyislove​, @illyrianinterrasen​, @my-ships-will-never-be-sank​, @wolffrising​, @whydoyoucareaboutmyusername​, @songbirdsbooks, @thanksforthememers

**If you are on mobile and cannot see the “Keep Reading” link, just scroll up and click on my URL**

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@queercapwriting, I throw this in your general direction, may you keep it for a rainy day when you need inspiration for an unusual pairing.

Caitlin Snow ran away from Central City after the funeral, because let’s face it, the cops were still looking for her (brainwashed by your superpowers is a poor legal defense).  She found herself in Star City in short order, and in the glorious tradition of comic books and superhero teamups, ran across Sara Lance almost immediately.

Sara was fresh off Rip disbanding the Legends and taking away the Waverider when she was dumped in Star City.  She spent a few days drinking with Mick before he disappeared for warmer climates, and was finally getting around to thinking about how she might find a job where two separate death certificates wasn’t an immediate disqualifier. Honestly, it’d probably be easier to go back to fighting street thugs and mooching off Oliver, but it felt like such a step back from fixing time that she couldn’t do it yet.

Caitlin and Sara know each other in a general sense, that they exist and that they’re involved in the superhero scene, but not much more than that.  They never really interacted outside the alien invasion a few months earlier.  Still, they’re both at low point in that moment, and having someone to commiserate with is a lot better than doing it alone, and it’s not like there’s a whole lot of people who have the context to understand their situations, so they get talking.

Sara needs a new purpose without the Waverider and the Legends, and Caitlin needs someone to help her learn how to control her powers, and after a night spent at the bar, they both manage to make the connection that they might be able to help each other.  Sara badgers Oliver into giving her the keys to the Queen family cabin so that they could do their work away from the general public.  While she may have called it a cabin, but to anyone besides the Queen family, it would be considered a lodge.  Definitely overkill for just two people, but if it was empty otherwise anyways, Caitlin wasn’t about to argue.

Caitlin was a little skeptical over just how much help Sara could realistically be, it’s not like she had out of control ice powers, but once she started talking, Caitlin realized Sara might know a little more than she had guessed.  Sara knew about being overwhelmed, about feeling urges, about giving into those urges, about coming out the other side changed.

The first thing Sara taught her was how to breathe.  Caitlin felt silly, sitting in the middle of the floor, cross legged, being told she was breathing wrong, but she kept at it.  In through the nose, out through the mouth, same count every time, and before long, it was two hours later and for the first time in a long time Caitlin didn’t hear a voice telling her to freeze everything solid, raging whenever Caitlin refused to listen.

Sara taught her meditation and tai chi, to help her understand her body better.  When Caitlin brought up the fact that she was a bio-engineer who knew the human body extremely well, Sara clarified that she didn’t need to know the human body, Caitlin needed to know her own body.  How would she ever control herself if she didn’t know herself?  Caitlin didn’t have an answer, so she kept at it, even when she felt awkward and slow compared to how graceful Sara looked as she guided her through the forms.

That was their mornings, anyways, and Sara changed out her sports bra and yoga pants for jeans and long sleeves, because the afternoons were when Caitlin practiced her powers, once more at Sara’s insistence.  Caitlin didn’t need to learn to control her powers, Sara posited, she needed to learn how to use them, and control would come naturally from there.  Given how poorly trying to suppress her powers had turned out, Caitlin admitted Sara might have a point.  All she did in the beginning was throw out blasts of ice and cold, but it wasn’t long before she started to improve.  Sara encouraged her to experiment, quickly figuring out how to create more complex shapes and how to control her icy touch.

That last one was the godsend.  She could finally use the hot tub to relax her sore muscles without freezing the water on contact.

Sara had celebrated her success by giving Caitlin a massage.  It wasn’t supposed to be sexy, it honestly wasn’t, but it had been so long since anyone had touched Caitlin, and Sara’s rough hands felt so good working out the knots and tension in her back, then her neck, then down to her legs, and at that point, Caitlin was so thoroughly wrecked that she didn’t think about the fact that she hadn’t kissed a girl since her freshman year of college, she just flipped over and kissed Sara until she saw stars.

Lessons didn’t change after that, but their downtime afterwards definitely did.  Needless to say, they both slept like the dead every night, their energy completely drained, even with Sara’s trained endurance and Caitlin’s frosty healing factor.

When Mick calls Sara six months after disappearing with a story about Caesar being tied up in his cabana, she knows their time alone in the lodge has come to an end, and the research she’s done into the Time Bureau is finally about to pay off.  Caitlin decides to tag along, happy to help and still not willing to go back to Central, even when they steal the Waverider and nearly doom the world to a Roman Empire that never fell.

Then the Legends are back, and not just for a one off job that landed in their laps, but fixing time for real, regardless of what the Time Bureau may want them to do.  Sara offered to drop Caitlin off back in 2017, but what does she have waiting for her back there?  Getting the opportunity to work with Dr. Stein again is just as much incentive to stay as sharing Sara’s bunk, and it’s not like there’s anything keeping them from visiting the present if they need to.

Martin and Jax welcome her with open arms, Ray and Nate are friendly enough. Amaya’s a little standoffish when she shows up, but she’s going through her own things, so Caitlin doesn’t hold it against her.  Mick doesn’t hide the fact that he resents her stealing Snart’s spot as the ice-user on the team, even if it doesn’t make logical sense, and it’s not like he treats her any worse than anyone else he meets.  Caitlin’s pretty sure he’ll come around eventually.

And that’s how Killer Frost joins the Legends.