Liam got Laura a quiver for her birthday, as well as an old copy of Twelfth Night and feathers for her hair. Brian: “Can we give this away for gif of the week?” Laura: “…no.”
Vax would happily stay retired, given the choice.
Vex is “a little fucked up” after seeing Keyleth die. That’s what made her start thinking of and worrying about Scanlan again.
The betta fish from last week has been moved into a big tank and is doing great.
Marisha: “Keyleth’s a jumper, she likes jumping. She’s still gonna be a jumper, that isn’t gonna change.”
Marisha and Laura have both put some thought into DMing.
Liam thinks of his Luck feat as the Raven Queen occasionally guiding him past potholes.
Laura is terrified any time Vex has to negotiate and always feels the pressure.
Liam purposely made a character for the next campaign who never has to be cool or confident, because it’s so stressful. Marisha, on the other hand, is gonna be “a cool… dick” next time.
Laura: “Taliesin has the ability to be slick and eloquent on the fly.” Marisha: “He’s cool and it’s not a big deal, it’s not fair!” Liam mentions that he’s always cool and collected even when things go wrong. Brian points out that it’s in line with what Taliesin’s said about Percy having sort of a teenage mentality.
Asked about Percy and Vax’s renewed friendship, Liam talks about how it’s softened over time. “I think people thought that Vax was angry longer than he actually was.” Vax knew that Percy titling Vex was a kind gesture made out of love, but was concerned about Vex’s reaction and the way she embraced it, that she might’ve bought into everything that was held over them over all those years. Vax’s reaction to the elves’ disdain was “fuck this bullshit”, whereas Vex’s reaction was “I want that,” and it worried him that she was still in that mindset. Liam emphasizes that any time Percy and Vax have an intense scene, he and Taliesin are giggling about it afterwards, and that Percy’s death wiped any remnants of the resentment between the characters away.
Vex is still haunted by the things Saundor said.
Often in their arguments, Marisha agrees with Percy and Taliesin agrees with Keyleth, and they have to play against type.
Keyleth acts a lot out of the knowledge that she’ll still be around in centuries to see the long-term consequences, but she’s also starting to learn to be more diplomatic, less self-righteous, and a bit more world-weary.
Vax is going to keep leveling in Paladin and likely won’t take more levels in Rogue. “He’s married to the Raven Queen at this point.”
Marisha talks about how she loves when Laura and Liam bicker out-of-character and it mirrors their characters. Laura: “…I don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s always in character.”
Vex hasn’t owned up yet to reading the in-case-of-death letter Percy wrote.
After the year’s break, VM is now Keyleth’s permission to be silly. “I’m only a dumbass when I’m around these dumbasses.”
Vax thinks Scanlan’s not in any danger, and thinks they’re fated to wind up back together again. Vex knows about the drugs, and that’s given her cause for concern.
To help deal with the ridiculously long druid spell list, Marisha cuts some out that Keyleth wouldn’t use in an RP sense, but it’s still really difficult to stay on top of the absurd number she has to pick from.
Marisha realizes that Keyleth was alone when she put her hand into the orb and the others probably don’t realize that happened. She thinks her nat20 save on that occasion may have been the most important roll for her character. Asked about most important rolls, Liam goes with the Luck roll and “left” moment against Umbrasyl, and also the double-ones during the walk of shame. Laura goes with the double nat20s against the Briarwoods to rescue Vax, and her nat20 during Percy’s resurrection ritual.
For the Battle Royale, Keyleth and Grog are probably the big targets. Laura points out that the choice of map will make a big difference.
Talks Machina Becomes the Darkness:
Asked if any of them have any weapons skills IRL: a lot of the group does archery in their backyards. Liam: “I have very few skills in general.” Everyone starts listing off his skills, which includes making great Pinterest boards. This leads to Laura talking about how she and Ashley are often on Pinterest at the same time even if she’s in New York. “Somewhere out there…”
Liam is distracted mid-answer by Laura’s burp. “That wasn’t too bad!” “Yes, but I am reminded of fifty other burps.”
A question is asked and… takes a while to get answered. Things go a little off the rails. Speed 2: Cruise Control. Keanu Reeves. Johnny Mnemonic.
Favorite low rolls: Keyleth getting arrested repeatedly. Vex falling off the broom. Liam brings up the ultimate: nat1 arrow through Scanlan’s neck during target practice.
The map of Emon on the wall of the set was dyed by Taliesin and framed by Laura. The barrel on the set was haggled for at a flea market by Laura.
Marisha: “Don’t forget to worry, it’s almost maybe Thursday.”
Ok… I hate hiatus’s but they’re also perfect for inspiring and fic writing.
Now this is just an indulgent piece of fluff I had too much fun writing but, alas, I only wrote it in 20 mins (I was inspired) because I don’t have a lot of time to spare so if it feels crude or just plain wrong, then I do apologise.
This is for @callistawolf who wanted some new pieces and I thought I’d get the ball rolling, for @hopedreamlovepray who made me fall in love with one-shots and a thank you to @n4r4nch4 who literally cheers me on, even when I feel like I’m undeserving.
I love this fandom!
So I don’t think this will happen in the show but… (If you guys like it, I’ll put it on AO3 later)
It’s what she’d hoped for him, them. Eventually. But in all
honesty; she’d had trouble believing it could happen… till a couple of weeks
ago that is.
Now they were here, on Lian Yu.
Everything that shouldn’t have happened, happened, and everything they didn’t
expect to did as well: the good and the bad.
Black Siren was gone. She truly was the exact opposite of
the Laurel they’d known. She’d disappeared, injured as she was, during Oliver’s
fight with Slade and none of them had the heart – nor the energy – to search
But they would.
Adrian was gone. Dead… but Oliver hadn’t killed him. Thankfully
he’d walked an unexpected path.
closing, listening to the sound of the waves at her feet, Felicity
“Come on Oliver; it’s
simple. Look.” Hand
fisted in Felicity’s hair, he yanked backwards until her
throat was exposed - her body pressed to his front - and held one of his daggers
beneath her throat. “I’ll make it easy for you.” His eyes unblinkingly on Oliver’s,
Adrian stressed each and every word. “If you don’t kill me - if you don’t shoot
an Arrow into my neck - I will kill the woman you’ve been pretending not to
It took an age for a
response to come.
Without a weapon, he’d
stood there – Oliver – as he’d entered the clearing, the place Adrian had
hunted Felicity to until she couldn’t keep running anymore, and hadn’t said a
He’d just looked at
her, seeing her determination, her exhaustion. Her fear.
Her resolve. “Don’t.”
She forced through her clenched teeth. “Not for me.”
He couldn’t now. Not
after everything. Not even for her.
And he knew that, she
could see it. This couldn’t be like the Count. This wouldn’t be him
instinctively obeying the mindset of the man who’d used killing as a defence
mechanism for survival - a mechanism to protect - for over five years.
This… what had to
happen, would be the turning point of his life.
And she was fine with
that. “It’s ok.” She whispered; her voice scratchy from lack of water as she
watched him watch her. “I’ll be fine.”
“No.” Adrian promised
- a smile in his voice - the knife pressing into her neck. “She won’t.”
He was right. He’d
kill her. Just to spite Oliver. If Oliver refused to kill him, Adrian would
kill her as punishment. And the Oliver Queen she’d started to see again for the
first time in 14 months, the Oliver Queen she’d made love to on his birthday - a present full of sex had been due for a while and
was, let’s face it, part and parcel for the course between them - where he’d shown her in an explicit and
detailed physical exploration with his hands - oh those fingers, she’d missed those fingers - his mouth -
the perfect mix of firm and supple softness: pillow mountains - his tongue - this
isn’t helping - and his words-
I’m so sorry I destroyed us.
You made me happy. I haven’t felt that since I took it away.
I didn’t know how to accept that I was worth being loved,
that I could be loved by… by you.
By Felicity Smoak.
I love you. I never stopped. It never went away, never
I missed you.
Oh, I love it when you do that.
You feel good. Familiar. Yet… different too.
But… still good? (she’d
had to ask, to be sure that still wanted her like she wanted him)
No. (And he’d smiled -
of course he had - his nose brushing down hers, his fingers trailing warmth and
desire over the uncovered skin of her cheeks, her throat, her shoulders and
further down…) Better.
Thank you for my birthday…
That Oliver Queen
who’d shone through so brightly, he’d disappear. For good this time. Dig
wouldn’t be able to pull him out of it; there would be no one to show him his
Then he’d kill Adrian.
And after, he’d kill
himself. Next to her. Just to be sure she’d be the first thing he’d see when he
opened his eyes once more.
If she died here.
Yet still… it was
the right choice to make. A choice where there wasn’t really a choice to make.
Oliver knew it, his
eyes told her they did, the soft stance of his body told her they did…
If it had to end, if
this was how it was supposed to go; she didn’t regret a thing. She’d loved…
and had been loved in a way a lot of people can only imagine. She’d found herself
inside him, her everything, her forever and her always…
So she smiled at him;
it a was watery thing but large enough to see, to show the sheer happiness he’d
brought to her, the love she’d felt grow somehow deeper in the two days since
they’d slept together. It told him everything he needed to hear without saying
anything at all.
And everything that he
was, reflected all of that back at her.
How eyes could be so
bright and expressive, she didn’t know but his always could and right now they
were etching his name into her soul, just like he was taking hers into his own.
“Alright.” He muttered
and he didn’t stop looking at her. “Kill her.”
She felt Adrian jolt
behind her but didn’t stop looking at her guy, didn’t stop smiling at him. God,
I love you. “What?”
“Kill her.” Oliver
“And you’ll just live
with that? I don’t think so Oliver.”
“I know you don’t.” Oliver’s
hand shifted, a knife of his own sliding into his fingers from his sleeve. “It doesn’t
matter because the moment you do, the moment you kill her… I’ll kill myself.”
He let out a sigh, his smile falling but his expression was still deeply
serene. Like he was seeing in her everything he wanted and was so content with
the reality of it, that he wouldn’t be sorry if it ended here either. “And
it’ll all be over.”
Still smiling, a tear rolled down her cheek and Oliver watched it fall like he wanted to halt its
progress with a finger.
It wasn’t like they
wanted to die. There was so much they both wanted from each other, with each
other – things they’d spoken of in the quiet after she’d brought him home to
rest inside her. But if it had to end here, if it had to be this way… then
let it be like this.
After all, they always
“That… that’s not
how this works.”
And like she’d prayed
for, Felicity heard the struggle in Adrian’s voice, the need to understand
something his brain was incapable of processing.
For the first time
Oliver looked away from her to him. “That’s the way it is. “And there was this
light in his eyes that made something in her sing as he lifted the blade up to
his own throat, preparing to draw a line across it. “I won’t kill you. You
don’t deserve for me to kill you. And I don’t need to.”
THIS was Oliver Queen.
This was the good she saw, had been seeing since Felicity Smoak? Hi, I’m
“You don’t think it’s
sick, Adrian? That you need me like this?” Throughout it all, Oliver kept his
voice low and steady. “You need me so badly that you want me to kill you? I’m
so important to you…”
His dagger cut into
her skin. “Shut up!”
“Why?” Oliver stared
at him. “Does it hurt?”
“You don’t- you have
no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Is it the truth?”
Oliver whispered. “Confess. You can’t live without me and you can’t kill
without me here.” He raised a hand to the world about them in general. “But I
won’t kill you. So,” Oliver looked back to her, love and hope an Arrow in his
gaze, “what happens next after I’m gone? What will you do?”
Before anyone could have done anything though, Rene - having
followed Oliver but had been unable to keep up with his sprint - had shot
Adrian point blank from the side. He’d died in seconds.
“I made him a promise.”
Was all he’d said.
After a moment’s silence, Oliver had moved prompting her to
do the same, to obey the need inside her. It just so happened his was
the same need as hers.
They’d collided in the middle, his arms tight around her lifting
her high off the ground, hoarse words breathed into her skin - I’m here baby - she’d wrapped herself
around him, holding him close, breathing him in too and promising to never ever
Because then they had to deal with the fallout. With Slade, who
had a personal grudge against the two of them, the day just wouldn’t end, with Black Siren who’d fled the scene,
Boomerang who’d been a giant pain in everyone’s ass… and Evelyn who’d then been
killed in action.
A. Very. Long. Day.
She released a breath, letting the wind make a mess of her
hair and rustle the trees –the lapping of the oceans waves – lull her very
tired body into a peaceful state of rest.
The she felt him behind her…
“I can feel you there,” she murmured, “I couldn’t before.”
And she chose – I don’t care if I’m naive
– to believe it was because of their connection and not their five year war
instilling a new awareness inside her that made this so.
“I didn’t want to disturb you.”
She smiled, and if her voice was throaty - a purr really -
well that was his fault. “Oliver, any disturbance by you is a welcome one.”
Not a question.
“I don’t think the others would appreciate my idea of a
disturbance with you.”
Her smile couldn’t get any wider.
His sex voice.
Seriously, every time after sex… this
voice. How do I live with myself, I just
Turning to face him, she chirped. “Hi.”
“Hey.” He moved closer so that the sea was to his left and
the jungle, his right. “You ok?”
She really was. He’d helped her there, earlier.
Probably looking profoundly love struck and foolish, she
bobbed her head at him; wordless at the way the sun hit his face and lit up his
hair. He really is blonde. “You?”
“It’s strange but… I think I am.” It came out in one long
exhale. “For the first time in a really long time I don’t feel so… weighed
Thank you God.
“That’s a good thing Oliver.”
“It is.” And it was a thing with him, how his eyes on her
own - like they could live forever staring into each other’s eyes and it still
wouldn’t be enough for him - always left her without the air to make a sound.
“You helped me get here.”
Uh, no. She shook her head. “Oliver, I-”
“You did. I don’t how you do it,” he shook his head; still
gazing at her, “but you do it anyway. I thought I wasn’t strong enough and you
proved me wrong. I thought I didn’t deserve…” and he paused because whatever
he was feeling looked overwhelming and he needed the moment to centre himself.
“I thought I didn’t deserve you, that
I could never earn you. So I stopped trying.
Stopped trying to not be that person who would never be enough all those months ago, before Rene and Rory and Dinah joined the team.” He
smiled and she felt it everywhere. “You gave me hope. You got me to believe,” he
took a step closer and like a teenager her heart literally skipped a beat, “in
my humanity again. I can never thank you for it.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” she really didn’t want that,
didn’t want him feeling like he owed her that, “you never do. What you did
here, what you’ve been trying to do for months… it’s proof of who you are. A good person; the best person I know.” My person.
But the look on his face – the smile in his voice – made her
“I don’t want to thank you.” He whispered, making her blink,
whiplash. “I want to spend the rest
of my life showing you that you were
Oh wow… “The
rest of your life, huh?” And if her voice wobbled with restrained joy, if hers
glittered just a tad, she really didn’t care.
He took a pause that felt like years before saying, “Can we
“I want to start over with you. From start to finish. I’m
yours. Always have been.” Everything in her was turning into goo. “I want to
marry you Felicity. I want to make a baby with you.”
He meant that. She could see it, the promise.
A little over a year ago, she’d been too scared to consider
the possibility. Though it made her happy, the idea of having Oliver’s child,
it had also terrified her. Being in a chair hadn’t been the problem; it was the
prospect of failing at being a good mother to any child they had that was.
How do you contain endless joy in a moment on a beach
somewhere in the North China seas?
“I want to live with you.” He continued, watching the
changes in her expression with awe and happiness and growing passion. “To fight
monsters in the dark with you. The way it should have been. As my partner.”
He was right: the months between then and now, the distance,
the chill between them… nothing had felt right, as if something had been
perpetually off balance with the world.
But they’d needed it to get here. Sometimes, in order to rise you have to fall first.
Her smile - broken - revealed teeth, her hair stuck to her
neck, her eyes described in detail what her lips couldn’t but could only
whisper, “No more ‘should haves’.”
No more maybes.
His quiet laugh was choked. “No more.” Like he wanted to
touch her, he took another half a step closer (if he moved in further he’d be
practically on top of her and she didn’t mind one bit) “A new beginning… with
“That sounds,” she took a breath because this, this was the
moment; where forever starts and wouldn’t really end, “perfect.”
Their perfect. Dark times were inevitable, trials… but happiness was due too.
The boyish grin – the laugh still present on his lips – made
her want to kiss him. And she would. Soon. But he had something else to say,
she could tell.
And she was right. “Felicity Smoak.” He announced, in that
soft, deeply masculine way of his that shot straight to her centre, married life is going to be awesome.
“Hi.” She frowned when he lifted a hand, barely any room between them for him
to do more than let it grace her stomach. “I’m Oliver Queen.”
She stared up at him… then pressed her lips together in
understanding, feeling so much the rightness of what he was saying.
Lifting her hand to slide into his waiting fingers, her
other tucked her hair behind her ears and affected nerves, shyness. “I know who
you are.” Or at least tried to, but the deeper tone that left her was anything
but and she knew he felt it in his bones when he licked his lips, when his
abdomen jerked against her hand. “You’re Mr Queen.”
His hand tugged her closer, so that her chest touched his.
“Mr Queen was my father. And I don’t think,” how his voice could lower any
further she wasn’t sure, but it could and it did and ooh… “you’d look at him the way you’re looking at me.”
Oh boy. “How am I looking at you?”
“Like you love me.” Leaning in, the depth in his eyes had
her falling into his hold. “Like you want me. Like you’re mine.” He quieted,
his eyes looking at her mouth. “Like I’m yours.”
“That’s quite the description.” Accurate too. “So what’s your policy on kissing a stranger you just
met on an island no one knows exists?” She teased.
“Oh, it’s my first policy.” Was his shameless, super fast
response and a bark of laughter shot out of her, making her eyes close. “But
only with you.”
How could she not kiss him with the utter love and feeling
he gave her with every word he spoke?
“Come here.” Still laughing, her free hand slid up his
throat, to the back of his neck to pull him close-
But he was already right there, smiling against her lips.
(And people, this is
where I be cheesy and play ‘I need my girl’ by the Nationals because the song was made for
Olicity – please listen to it here)
The feel of his scruff against her skin still made her
tingle - she still felt the warmth of him down her sides, her stomach muscles
contracting at the sure way his mouth opened hers - and still made her shiver
in delight as her smile became a physical expression of everything she felt for
him. Seeking, pressing, pushing, chasing his mouth with her own - re-leaning how
he tastes, letting her tongue entwine with his - her hands were around his neck
in seconds, cradling his head with them just the way he liked. Like she needed him
closer and she was letting him know. The way his hands slid over her spine to
press her as close – and as tight to him – as humanly possible. And when his fingers
slipped into her locks to cup her head as he angled his own and- oh… I’ve missed this.
The kind of kiss that made her forget the world existed.
Her hands moved to drag across his scalp, one of them shifting
down under his shirt and pressing into the musculature there, feeling every movement
he made and the sound that left him wasn’t a groan or a growl. It was a sigh,
one that came from deep in his chest…
She nipped as his upper lip, looking into his hooded eyes. “I
“I love you.” A firm kiss was followed by another. “I love
She smiled again, her nose brushing over his, their breaths
“Oh my God, you weren’t kidding.”
It was also the kind of kiss to make her completely forget
they had an audience. Her eyes didn’t open and she figured his didn’t either
but she felt Oliver’s lips press together as he exhaled through his nose.
“I warned you.” John.
He sounded unbelievably satisfied with himself. “But nope, you wanted to see
for yourself. And here it is. The ugly truth.”
She felt Oliver’s chest vibrate and his lips twitch against hers.
“He’s just like Tommy.” He muttered, too quietly to be heard by the others.
René just couldn’t accept it. “They’re like… romance novel
“I think its right.” She heard Dinah say, and she was
officially Felicity’s new favourite person. “They should have done this months
“They should have had sex
months ago.” René corrected and she felt the muscles in Oliver’s arm jump. “That
amount of chemistry in the Foundry wasn’t healthy.”
She couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that sprang free
from her, her head arching back as Oliver held her aloft. Okay, they’re all my favourites.
Oliver’s puff of air made her look back to him. “The children are
“…I’m oddly good with this.”
“Are you two beautiful idiots done for the moment?” And
Diggle once more; still sounding utterly superior. She’d let him have it. “It’s
just, there’s a boat with our name on it, a wife the two of you are reminding me
painfully of and a kid I really want to eat shakes with.”
Oliver’s eyes were so content…
She arched a brow. “Done?”
He shook his head. “We’re just getting started.”
Here’s to the rebirth of Olicity (and the horrid 4 week count down)
The second you touched down on the foreign soil, you were on guard. That Shadow thing had decided to drop you on the coast of a deserted beach, but why? You spun around, hugging your arms to your shivering body. You weren’t scared in the slightest. Confused, angry but not scared. Most of all you were pissed that the Shadow abducted you from your home and left you on this island to fend for yourself… not that home was much better though.
“And who might you be? This isn’t a place for a girl like you.” A voice sniggered.
You whipped around, met by green eyes and a smile. The smile wasn’t friendly though, it reminded you of a wolf’s snarl as it circled its prey; arrogant and dominant.
“Who am I? Who are you?” You looked around exasperatedly. “And where the hell am I?”
“Tone the attitude down, love. S'not very ladylike.”
Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief, an insulted look crossing your features instantaneously. How did a stranger have the decency to tell you that you weren’t acting ladylike when you had just been stolen from your home and suddenly harassed by some random boy?
You narrowed your eyes, pushing past the boy. “If you won’t tell me where I am then I’m going to figure it out myself.”
You heard him laugh behind you. “You won’t get far without my help. This is my island and you won’t find anything unless I want you to.”
“Are you ready to bow down to submission yet?”
You snorted. “Bow down to submission? Do I look like a dog.”
The boy laid stretched out in a tree branch, one leg propped up and the other dangling from the branch. He watched you with an irritating smile, one you would like to smack off his face.
“I told you,” He tsked. “You won’t find anything —.”
“—Unless you want me to, yeah yeah. You’ve said that a few times now.”
Sitting down on a rock that had managed to rip its way through the Earth, you buried your face in your lap and wrapped your arms around your legs. You felt a body sit beside yours and with one peak you figured it was him.
“I know you’re upset my pet, but I can make it all better if you let me.”
His accented voice was like a siren’s song, lovely, warm and inviting but as soon as you let yourself become taken by it, your life would be no more. You sighed.
“Can you at least tell me where I am.”
You lifted your head to meet his playful gaze.
“I’ll give you a hint. You’re in the land where Lost Children go to be loved again.”
Your eyes squinted. Lost Boys? Lost Children?
“Neverland…? That makes you Peter Pan?”
The boy smirked, one side of his mouth lifting higher than the other and indenting a dimple in his cheek. “Precisely.”
You tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear before he stood up and held his hand out in front of you.
“Let’s go back to camp, it’s going to rain soon.”
You purse your mouth and stood next to him, letting his open hand curl into an awkward first between you.
“I’ll just go my own way. When you say the word camp it reminds me of a summer camp where you sit around the fire and roast marshmallows. Not that that doesn’t sound wonderfully fun,” You say with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “But I’m not here to roast marshmallows and sing camp songs.”
Pan tensed his jaw, feeling his teeth grind against each other. With one usual snap of his fingers, Pan always got what he asked for but he oddly liked the defiance act you were putting on. He remembers how Wendy eventually became clay in his hands and she would bend over backwards at anything he said but… not you. Pan could only imagine how strong his ego will feel once he got you the buckle.
“My camp is no where near child’s play but if you really want to live by your own rules, then you have to prove your worthiness to me.”
“I don’t have to prove anything just because you lack to see it. S'not my problem.”
With lightning reflexes he had your jawbone gripped between his thumb and forefinger, the skin becoming hot and subtly numb under his aggressive touch. Anger immediately flood your senses and you tightly gripped his wrist as a warning.
“Prove to me that you can survive on my island without my help then. Show me,” He whispered, hissing the letters.
“…that you can and maybe I would look up to your so called worthiness. Until then you’re nothing but a literal lost girl to me.”
You took his wrist and flung his hand off of your face. “It’s not very gentlemen-like to man handle a woman, Peter Pan.”
The smirk reappeared onto his face and he paced himself a few steps away from you.
“Peter Pan never fails. Gain my respect by proving yourself.”
“You lost my respect by referring to yourself in third person.”
With that, you turned around and started your way blindly through the forest. You frankly didn’t care if you left Pan standing there. The fact that you were dumped on this island without your say makes it your island as much as it was his.
It had been a few days since you had seen that annoying boy and honestly, you weren’t doing that bad. You were able to find food and despite what Pan had said at the time, it had yet to rain. Neverland was beautiful, with fluorescent wild life and creatures you had only ever imagined in dreams. You were still asleep and the sun had yet to rise over the tops of the pines. The colors of the sky above you bled through each other like a painting, creating a dreamy glow throughout the air.
You groaned and rubbed your eyes, rubbing the sleep away from inside of them. The chilly air pinched at your cheeks and created goosebumps down your body, making you sigh. The sigh was stolen by a gasp as an arrow shot past you, missing the top of your shoulder by a hair’s length.
Your eyes whipped towards where it had came from, only to be met by nothing. You leaned backwards and retrieved the arrow, holding it in front of you as a weapon. Pan had never mentioned anything actually dangerous on Neverland, so what the hell was attacking you?
Another one slung past you but this time, missing you completely. You snorted and stood to pick it up. “Can whoever is shooting at me stop? Nice shots by the way.”
You didn’t miss the pain of the third one, flying swiftly and piercing your shin. Though it didn’t make it too far in, your knees buckled and you toppled down, blinking through the tears as you tried to rip the flimsy arrow out. Blood ran down the expanse of your ankle.
“Now this is a site. I didn’t even shoot that hard.”
You knew that voice, you hadn’t heard it in days. Pan. You gritted your teeth as he emerged from the bushes, dropping his bow to the dusty ground.
“Why would you shoot me?” You shrieked, hands shaking. Before Neverland you had never experienced pain like this, the worse being a scratched knee or a sprained wrist.
“I’m trying to get you to prove yourself. I’m tired of you moping around my island. It’s getting quite boring.”
With a shot of adrenaline, you sprang up and pushed Pan into the body of a tree, holding the wooden arrows horizontally against his neck. Pan only smirked in response, even daring to let his hands rest daintily on your waist before you elbowed them away.
“Do you always go around shooting new kids on your island, Pan? Do you think this is funny or something?” You pressed, tightening the arrows against his neck. The wound on your leg groaned as you stood on it but you couldn’t back down now.
“I didn’t even shoot you that hard, silly girl. And if you’re trying to scare me, all you’re doing is amusing me right now.”
“And you’re making me incredibly furious. I am this close to strangling you, I swear.”
“I don’t think you would.” He taunted, raising an eyebrow.
You bit the inside of your cheek and glared at him, eventually releasing your hold and throwing the arrows onto the ground. No, you wouldn’t hurt this boy despite him hurting you. You left Pan where he was and went to cut the flimsy material of your hand made tent off, wrapping it around your shin as a makeshift band aid.
“What?” Pan asked. “No slapping, no screaming, no girly fits that I won?”
“No. Unlike you, I wasn’t raised in a jungle where we get back at people by using more violence. Violence isn’t the answer.”
“I see.” Pan nodded, taking slow steps towards you. He kneeled next to you and gently moved your hands away from where they were tying the cloth together. You went to bark at him to move his hands away but his stare stopped you.
“At least let me heal it up. It’s the least I could do, you did prove your worthiness after all.”
You allowed him to use whatever Neverland magic he had within and heal up the bleeding arrow wound. Within seconds it was gone, no trace of pain or blood left behind after the stroke of his hand.
“Better now?“ Pan asked with a gentle voice. He looked almost… kind? Genuine? Concerned?
Before he could stand back up you threw your balled up fist square into his jaw, making him stumble back for only a millisecond. Shock registered on his face and his hand flew up to where you had punched him.
“That’s for shooting a goddamn arrow at me. I don’t need to prove my worthiness to anyone.”
Though punching him probably hurt your knuckles worse than it hurt his jaw, you stood up and held your hand out.
“What?” You mocked, using his exact tone of voice from earlier. “No girly fits that I won?”
Pan laughed, a genuine boyish laugh and accepted your hand as you helped pull him upwards. You ran your hands down your dusty clothes and sighed.
“Let’s go to your camp. I haven’t eaten a real meal in hours, I’m starving.”
Since then, Pan had never decided to cross you again.
Notes: I am so sorry that it took four weeks to complete your request, anon! I hope you enjoy it though! I actually sat down at 10 pm to write this and didn’t start till 1 am. :P *~Procrastination at its finest~*
I hope you all enjoy, and I will see y'all in my next post. :*
• okay we’re on a couch
• uSE UR GLUTES
• are they okay
• look at the agility
• theRE GOES SPENCER
• dude get on the bed!! you have plenty of room!! i mean couch, we’re on a couch, we’re not laying on a bed in our underwear
• we’re actually at the pool with like three other chicks
• bike rides that are the worst for me personally are the ones where there’s arrows through my neck
• nice! keep going
• dude did you just burp
• yeah sorry
• ew dude that burp smells so bad
• what like pure red bull and passion?
• you got this sphen
• ~all of the OOHHHs~
A/N - The lovely @legolasothranduilion sent me a request for “having a hate relationship with Legolas but you both secretly love each other. (And he gets annoyed when you try to help)”. I hope you enjoy it! Theres a lot of elvish in here but worry not! I’ve put what the words mean at the bottom!
Words - 1514 Pairing - Legolas X Reader
Legolas groaned into his hands and snatched the sword from your grip. “What in middle-earth do you think you’re doing?!” You hissed at him, trying to get the sword back. You were just sharpening a sword for Elentári’s sake. It wasn’t like it was dangerous. “You’re going to get yourself killed
Kotyaer!” He shouted back at you. Ah. This wasn’t about the sword. It was about the battle that was going to begin in a few hours. “
Kotyaer,” You stated. “That’s a big word for you.” Legolas glared at you and held the sword out of your reach. “You are a woman Y/N. Why don’t you act like one? Normal women don’t fight in battles,” Legolas complained. “Fine! I’ll go do my hair like a good girl,” You declared, stamping on his foot before you marched down the stairs to aid the people of Rohan. You were at Helm’s Deep awaiting an Orc army. The odds were stacked against you. Everyone knew it. The men were scared. They were untrained. It would be a bloodbath.
I debated even writing up a review for this episode. I don’t
really want to venture into the kind of politics this episode delved into; and
mostly because this episode was just bad.
There are only two good things about the entire episode:
Thea Queen’s return. I’ve missed her. Her snarky
little jabs have been sorely missed. Everything that came out of her mouth was
perfection. Stop leaving us.
The end of the episode. Because it was finally over.
It was so sloppily mishandled that it is my fervent hope that
if ever Marc Guggenheim and Arrow
company ever think of venturing into a “special episode of the week” territory:
THEY SIMPLY DON’T DO IT. Somebody should Taser them and lock them in a closet
until they’ve properly thought about their insanity.
Going into this episode I was leery. First of all because it
was centered around Wild Dog and I have yet to be invested in his character. He’s
made a few tiny steps (and then lost them) forward in recent weeks but nothing
that merits his own special episode. So here I was with a flashback episode
about him when most of my core favorites have been sidelined all season long. I
wasn’t amused. Second, I just really don’t think that Arrow is the kind of show where this discussion is best suited.
Namely because Arrow throws violence
around so commonly that nothing about last night’s episode stood out markedly
from any other Arrow episode.
In fact, when the episode started with the gun attack, it
felt so familiar that I thought we’d seen it before. And I was right. We did in
2x01. On the exact same set (then called QC), “The Hoods” opened fire on the
boardroom. So I’m not entirely sure what made this episode “special” other than
some characters were turned into political mouthpieces, while others were
muzzled. There is nothing remotely shocking about what Edlund did—though how
Quentin’s spidey sense didn’t tingle at the very
suspicious dude in the elevator is beyond me.
Beyond the way Arrow
uses violence regularly, this episode’s message was marred down even further by
being in a season where Oliver Queen is dropping bodies again. In fact, he just
killed an innocent man a few weeks ago and seems to have gotten over the guilt
of that moment real quick. The return to killing this season has been a thorn
in my side because it’s never once been narratively justified. They keep saying
that it’s because Laurel died; but that doesn’t fly with Oliver believing her
death wasn’t his fault.
Valentine’s followers have Jace surrounded. Just from the way they handle their
swords, he can tell only one of them—the sandy-haired woman with a scar on her
chin—is a born Nephilim. The other four were created by Valentine with the
Mortal Cup, and the few months of training they’ve received are not a match to
Jace’s experience. Still, the numbers are in their favor, and fighting five at
the same time isn’t exactly…
The tallest guy of the group has just been put out of the game by an incoming
arrow that pierced his neck through and through.
three. There goes the blond with the beard, with an arrow into his chest.
finally seem to realize something is
happening. Jace can’t even blame them; the two arrows came up so quickly one
after the other, almost as if there were two archers at the end of the hall,
and not just Alec.