canopy & stars

From Amy, With Love (pt. 5)

A sickening twang! of metal on metal cuts through the air, and Amy looks up to see Oliver standing between her and Wilford, taking the bullet at point blank range. The droid sparks and sputters as the other Googles rush to detain Wilford who has gone catatonic. Oliver drops to his knees, and Amy rushes to catch him.

“Oli, no no no.” Amy can’t believe one more person is hurt because of her.

The yellow of Oliver’s eyes flickers, and the droid coughs, oil leaking from the hole in his chest. “I-it’s o-o-okay, Am-my.”

Green crouches beside Amy, assessing the damage done. “It’s reparable, but we’ve got to get him back quickly.”

Ed and Green carry Oliver back to the truck, one of the droid’s arms slung over each of their shoulders, while Google pins Wilford to the ground. “Google, the blood… is it his?”

The droid’s blue eyes flicker over Wilford’s frame. “There’s no way of telling at this point. We’ll take him to the Doctor and let him determine Wilford’s state.”

Silver moonlight glints off the gun, tossed to the side when the Googles tackled Wilford, and Amy reaches over to pick it up. When she does, Wilford seems to come back to himself. “Amy? What happened?”

Amy quickly hides the gun behind her back. “Wilford, you’re alright?” It comes out as more of a question than she intended.

Will’s eyes bulge like he’s just starting to remember where he is and what’s been going on. Then there’s a flash, a sudden change, and he’s unresponsive all over again. Google pulls Wilford to his feet, and he and Amy walk the bloody Ego back to the truck. “He goes in the back,” Ed demands, not wanting to get stains all over the upholstery. They’ve already got Oliver laid out across the back seat with a towel pressed to his chest.

“You sit with Oliver,” Google suggests to Amy. “I’ll stay in the back with Wilford and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself… or anyone else.” Though Amy hates to leave Warfstache in such a state, there’s no one she trusts more to be able to handle him than Google.

“Thank you, Googs,” she whispers with a quick kiss on his cheek before she hops into the back, placing Oliver’s head gently in her lap. The droids exchange a glance that Amy can’t read before Google hauls himself and Wilford into the bed of the truck.

Ed guns it in the direction of Ego Inc. as Amy stares out the window at the canopy of stars.

 

The Host leans his head against the bars of Dark’s cell and smiles. “You’re going to lose. I’ve just received word from the others that they’ve found Wilford and they’re bringing him back now.”

“Yes, and you’ll be able to return Mark’s memories and save the day.” Dark inclines his head toward the Host. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

It’s not the reply that the Host was expecting. He’d come down here to throw his victory in Dark’s face, not have the double-crossing Ego toss it back like a dirty rag. “What do you mean?” Host asks in a gravelly tone, his voice still minutely strained from having Dark’s hands clamped around his throat.

“Don’t you get it? With me out of the way, Wilford will take control of the entire operation. It’ll be his hands you’ll be placing your life in, not to mention the others’ lives as well.” Dark shakes his head with a pained expression on his face, as though he pities the Host. Dark has never pitied anyone or anything in his life. “He is the most powerful of you all, I’ll give him that. But Warfstache is careless and sloppy. He won’t be able to handle the power.”

The Host thinks back to the mess of Markiplier TV, Wilford’s project to gain the Egos more control over the channel. It had gotten the fandom hopping, but his efforts were misguided. He was more interested in promoting himself than the Egos as a whole.

“And,” Dark continues, “once you return Mark’s memories, he’ll very likely take Amy away from here. I can’t imagine he’d want her to come back after all that’s happened.”

The Host’s temper flares. “You mean after what you did to her?”

“After what you let me do to her,” Dark spits back. “Any one of you could’ve stopped me if you’d had the spine. But you didn’t have one then and you don’t now. You’re going to let Wilford Warfstache ruin all the progress we’ve made towards securing all of our futures, and you’re going to let that idiot Mark take Amy away from you. How pathetic can you possibly be?” Dark composes himself once again and shrugs. “Fine, you’ve always been good at playing the doormat, so keep up the good work, Hosty.”

The Host flinches. His hand comes up to tug at his bandages, a nervous tick he thought he’d dropped when Amy showed him he had nothing to be ashamed of. In his nervousness and deep thought, the Host begins to subconsciously narrate,

“Dark is wrong about the Host. The Host is more powerful than any of the others know. He just doesn’t flaunt it like Dark or Wilford or even Bim, who’d do anything to impress. The Host can help the Egos attain their goal. He can lead.” Host walks away from the cell and towards the elevator.

“And he is going to show them all.”

2

And then there was Merlin

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader

Requested: Yup!

Pronouns: She/Her

GIF: turonegerton

Song: ‘Raging’ by Kygo

Warnings: Swearing.

Reading time: 18 Min.

Notes: None

Summary: You’ve been working nights in the tech department of Kingsman and have a run in with Eggsy that could make things a little messy.

____________________  

“You invent some kinda way to write code with your eyeballs?”

A wisp of hot breath tickled her ear. Y/N whipped her head sideways to meet it. Her face collided with the brim of Eggsy’s hat. “Oww,” She exclaimed. Her eyes squinted shut as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Sorry love.” Eggsy stood behind her chair, leaning over her shoulder, his face next to hers. “You’ve been staring at that screen for 10 minutes. I wasn’t sure you were even awake.”

“I wasn’t,” Y/N muttered. She turned back to the computer, slouched down in her chair and yawned.

It had been almost two months since she started working nights in the tech department of Kingsman. She had met all the agents her first day but only ever saw Trinity, the night watch, which usually meant she could get in a good nap during her shifts.

“Don’t see you around here much.” Eggsy stood up.

“Yea, Uni keeps me pretty busy during the day,” She spoke with her eyes closed, arms folded across her chest. “But Merlin needs my help here so I find the- SHIT!” She sat up fast, eyes gaping. “What time is it?” She frantically checked the desktop for her phone and retrieved it from under a pile of papers and a half eaten banana. It was dead.

Keep reading

Of Reconciliation and Infinity

The night envelopes the world in its cover of reassurance, of a sort of love that emanates from the thick blanket of the skies that shroud humanity. The moon glows with an ethereal kind of light, a lightweight cover that wraps everything in magical luminescence.

Peace-inducing and cooling, the wind passes, the grass dancing along to the melody of the worlds, a low, hushed hymn of dreams and hopes that lay beyond the imaginations of those that exist.

The stars shine, winking at him every so often, a tease from the universe, perhaps encouragement. Nico Di Angelo lies beneath the cosmos, lies beneath the infinite glory of what was and what is.

It is on nights like these that his mind finally quietens down, the thoughts, the depression, the self loathing fading into nothing.

But this night was something different, It was a time of strange possibilities that could ensue.

A finger twitches next to his, and Nico looks over to see Will Solace, looking at him, an achingly gentle smile gracing his lips, blue eyes soft and the color of the cosmos with a million different constellations.

Perhaps that was the reason Nico fell in love with those eyes, the way they resembled the stars and the sky, the way they shone on the darkest of days. The way they seemed to be Nico’s only anchor to the world.

Will shifts his hand until he’s holding Nico’s and his heart skips but he only smiles back at Will, leans closer and puts his head on Will’s shoulder.

It feels safe, lying there under the canopy of the stars, close to Will, the distant sound of waves lapping on a shore shifting through the wind. It feels like everything Nico wants and needs. It feels strange because nothing has felt like this in so long. It feels like home.

His heart aches when he thinks of how much he wants to kiss Will, to be with him, to grow old with him by his side, all those hopes kept wrapped up in the confines of his mind. Thoughts that should never come out.

He does not know why, or how, but he starts talking, whispers of hushed words that have stayed inside him too long. The stories he never told anyone, the story of him and Bianca, the story of his mom, of freshly baked cookies back in Venice.

He tells Will everything then, doesn’t know why, only feeling that it’s right so he does. Times of ecstasy and joy, times of sadness despair, laps of time that were ghosts until he said them and they came alive.

At some point they shifted and sat up, Nico simply looking at the stars to avoid Will’s eyes as he talked, afraid he would stop talking if he looked; he didn’t even know if Will was paying attention.

But Will listened, staring at Nico intently as he recounted stories of old, of how it was when Maria Di Angelo died, of how it was when he figured out that that feeling in his stomach around Percy Jackson was what he most feared it to be. Of what it was like to roam in darkness, wishing to instead just die, for life to simply stop.

And when he was done, he slowly, fearfully turned to face Will, was surprised to find his eyes looking at him so, so tenderly. Will looked at him as if he were strong and not broken, as if he were a hero and not a victim. As if he wasn’t other.

And then, eyes fluttered closed, lips joined softly, and hearts finally came together.

The universe above burned aflame.

The Dark Lord: Dark Consort

@lectorel @stylishbutdefinitelyillegal

There is very little left now.

Percival Graves has been rescued from torture and imprisonment at the hands of Gellert Grindelwald. And despite all claims to the contrary, the Director of Magical Law Enforcement is most decidedly not okay.

After.

After painfearagonyhumiliationpaindon’ttouchmepainbetrayalpainithurtithurtsitHURTS, Percival Graves is – empty. That’s the best description of his current state of being. He goes to work. He does his paperwork. He leads his aurors, stance firm and unfailing as he drags the scum of the Wizarding World to justice. I am fine. Director Graves tells himself, tells the world with every decisive footstep, every barked order. I am fine.

It is his mantra, and he mutters it with all the conviction of a convert hoping, desperately, that if he repeats it enough it might come true.

Percival Graves is not fine.

He comes home in the evenings, and just – stops.

Sometimes he manages to make himself a cup of tea. More often he doesn’t, and simply – sits. Stares into the distance, mind numb and hollow as memory drags him down like a rip current.  He sleeps very little. He only eats when prompted. He just – stops.

Sometimes Graves is vaguely concerned that no one’s noticed his slow decay, his subtle decline. But – it makes sense, doesn’t it? They didn’t notice when he was replaced by a genocidal psychopath. They didn’t notice when Grindelwald wore his face like a cheap suit. Why should they notice his breaking?

Percival Graves sits in an empty house in a darkened room and breathes.

There is very little left now.

He isn’t even curious when there’s a knock at his door. Or at the muffled curses that echo through unlit hallways as footsteps shuffle forward. He is indifferent to the tall body that blunders into his sitting room, or the sharp inhale as unfamiliar eyes land on his still form.

There is a hand beneath his chin, tilting his head upwards and Graves vaguely recognizes the individual in front of him. He’d arrested them once, hadn’t he? The memory is vague and unimportant, but it’s vaguely more interesting then the figure in front of him carefully calling him by name. Yes – a know associate of the Dark Lord (the other Dark Lord, the one who didn’t like humans very much). Graves had ended up releasing them; they’d committed no crime on American soil, and, technically, committed no acts of Black Magic (for all that their aura screamed with the cold of the Dark).

Graves notes their identity absently before letting his mind lapse back into perfect blankness.

There is an arm wrapping around his back, beneath his shoulders, and a sharp curse as he’s levered upright; Graves follows passively as the other magic-user urges them forward. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, not the squeeze of apparition as they clear the threshold, not the sick lurch in his stomach as they rematerialize beneath an undimmed canopy of stars –

There is a fire, and there are dark figures discernible only by the shape of their shadows lingering around the blaze. Heads turn as he is urged forward with a surprising gentleness – again, Graves follows. What else is he to do?

And there is a dark, dark figure sitting to one side of the burning logs.

The magic-user who is half-carrying him sinks to their knees, and Graves is forced to follow. He watches, vaguely curious, as they bow their head. And then – their voice is a whisper, a scream, a memory –

“My lord. Please. Have mercy.”

And this is the Dark Lord, this is the other Dark Lord, the one that Graves sank years of his life into finding, into hunting, into tracking without ever so much as glimpsing the man’s shadow, and faint curiosity strengthens into the first real emotion he’s felt in months as he raises his head and stares head-on at the seated figure.

(Later on, there will be tears and recriminations and explanations, there will be Newt practically diving off the log he was sitting on as he stumbles to Percival’s side, desperately trying to find out where the other man is hurt – he’d thought that the Director was bleeding out, that he’d been horribly maimed, that something was terribly, terribly wrong. There will be Newt sheepishly confessing how even though he’d never so much as touched black magic everyone still insisted on calling him a Dark Lord, there will be a rusty laugh bellowing from Percival’s throat because only you, Scamander, only you…)

There is a Dark Lord, they say. A Dark Lord who is terribly in his mercy, implacable in his fury. A Dark Lord, who has taken a consort, who has bound the man’s shadow and supped wisdom from his sighs.

anonymous asked:

hey! so I guess you're pretty busy and i hope things are going find and wish you nothing but good luck ☺️☺️. I have a prompt! Im watching s3 of rtte and an idea just came to my brain. When Heather arrives in ep 7 of s3 Fishlegs says that she's staying with Astrid, what if at night Hiccup is like overwhelmed by thoughts, totally forgets abt that and decides to go to Astrid's hut and the two of them have to make a silly excuse or you know

A/N: Hello! <3 Thank you so much for your kind words, and for this lovely prompt! I sincerely appreciate it, and I hope that what I’ve whipped up suffices. Please do feel free to send in another, my dude! :’) 

(*Note: Takes place during 03x07. Not S4 compliant.)


Emergency (Alternatively titled ‘Future’)

Hiccup was seated at his desk with several pieces of parchment spread out before him: one depicted the immediate waters surrounding the Edge, while another was a census of Nadders, organized by time, flock number, altitude, and direction. The third, however…

The third was simply a myriad of scribbles and doodles and scribbled-out doodles, all completed while he made fruitless attempts to connect disparate dots and mismatching puzzle pieces. Hiccup stared down at the map and furrowed his brow, glancing between two documents, trying to make sense of the numbers–

(He tapped the metal of his prosthesis against the wooden floorboards of his hut. He drummed his fingers on the surface of the table. He cast his gaze toward the corner of the room, momentarily letting it linger on a slumbering Toothless… Before scrubbing a hand down his face as he rose from his seat.)

–Even after half an hour of trying to analyze the data, the figures glaring up at him still didn’t make sense.

Keep reading

When This Is Over

(Short fShenko drabble I wrote instead of being productive. Might end up being a part of collection of drabbles featuring my OC if I can get my shit together.)

“What do you see yourself doing?” Bethany asked late one night as they lay together in her cabin in a tangle of sweaty limbs, watching the redshifted lights of the stars through the haze of the Normandy’s mass effect field. There was no view quite like it in the galaxy. The lower-energy stars has dropped off the spectrum of visible light, leaving them with breathtaking views of quasars and pulsars scattered across the black canvas of the universe.

“Hm?” Kaidan shifted his weight so he could look at her, propping himself up on one elbow. 

“When this is over. After the war.” She turned so she was facing him, lying on one side with her pillow resting comfortably against the side of her face. God, he was beautiful like this, wearing only a bedsheet, black hair tousled from lying down, and framed in the soft glow coming in from the transparent canopy above them.

Keep reading

To the Ends of the World [1/?]

A/N: It’s finally hereeee! This is the sequel to my S4 Canon-Divergence fic, Days of Future’s Past. There are a lot of dynamics and backstory within Days that carries into this story so I’d heavily advise you read it before this one, other wise you’ll spend most of the time scratching your head wondering who the characters are and why x is happening. For those who did read Days, welcome back to the universe! I have been dying to get back to this world and finish out our heroes’ story! Many thanks to my amazing beta @ive-always-been-a-pirate for giving this a look over! 

Banner made by the ever lovely @thesschesthair!


Six months after the events in Days of Future’s Past all is eerily calm for the heroes - until Maleficent finds a way to circumvent the prophecy that foretells her demise. Emma and Killian must now race against the clock to save one of their children from a fate worse than death while battling their own internal demons. With long held secrets revealed and love tested, can the Charmings and Jonses save one of their own and finally defeat Maleficent before she becomes an unstoppable evil?


Rated: M
FFNET | AO3
Prologue - Ch 1

Prologue

On the shores of a vast and still lake, beneath the canopy of stars that had bore witness to the creation of all realms, stood a lone figure.

She would have been considered a vision if any mortal had been there to witness her presence, her beauty unparalleled except for that of Aphrodite’s. Her features were soft with her skin glowing alabaster in the moonlight, her black hair cascading down her shoulders and a stark contrast to the white gown that hugged her form. For centuries Mankind had written poems and songs about her, weaving her name and title into their tales until she was nothing more than a legend in their world - a faceless and forgotten woman. But they would never know the true depth of her being. She had been a fixed point in the cosmos since the dawn of time, born from the raw magic of the world and placed as its guardian before Mankind had even winked into existence. Power that not even the Dark Ones would have been able to comprehend flowed through her veins and seeped into the very air around her.

Keep reading

Kiss Me

Prompt: He kissed her. Without warning, without permission. Without even deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn’t have done anything else. He needed that breath she was holding. It belonged to him, and he wanted it back.” – Tessa Dare

A/N: So when I posted about this prompt a large majority told me they envisioned this for Tabi so, without further ado, I give you this painfully beautiful work of early Holiday cheer.

Genre: TOP x Reader

Words: 1194

Disclaimer: As usual, any gifs used are not mine and belong to their rightful owners!

The finishing touches had been placed on the tree hours ago. Seunghyun treated the ornaments like he was hanging works of art on one of his walls, dangling the mistletoe over his head at an exhausting rate. His way of gaining your attention when he felt like you were too preoccupied hanging the tinsel, instead of focused on him.

When you’d placed a few shimmering strands in his white violet hair, it started an all out war. Only ending as you pulled out heaps of it from underneath your shirt. He’d made hot cocoa to appease you and curled up beside you liking a purring kitten, nestling his face into your neck as he drew you into his chest.

You were doing your best to enjoy the sound of his voice as he read to you. To remember how the baritone of it vibrated on your cheek, and the feeling of his fingers fiddling with the ends of your hair. You were trying to focus on the little things that you knew in a couple of months would be gone.

Keep reading

Cuddle Fest

Originally posted by ohmysupernatural

castiel x reader

Summery: The reader is back from a tiring hunt and needs to relax. What a better way than to kick back with angel cuddles in the comfiest bed in the world?

Notes: FLUFF. this idea came about when I saw boho bedroom and the tapestries and the cozy-nest-beds. I would sleep the shit out of a bed like that.

Keep reading

spacecowmilkshakes  asked:

Got any diys on room decor?

Here are some! Hope these’ll help!

DIY Tapestry Headboard

Bold graphics or fairy wonderland tulle? So many styles!

DIY Star Light Star Bright Light Garland

Magical glow of whimsical warmth. If you do decide to go with a tulle canopy, pin these lights between the ceiling and the fabric for that faded glow effect.

DIY Tape Picture Frames

This is easy to do, easy to remove, easy to customize, easy to change, and doesn’t take up much space. 


sew-much-to-do: a visual collection of sewing tutorials/patterns, knitting, diy, crafts, recipes, etc.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to support me further, my Amazon Wish List is available here!

Need help finding tutorials? Send me a request!

10

Under The Oak

We stayed in this converted train carriage last week in Powys, Wales and it was utterly magical.

You should check out the Canopy and Stars website for cooky, unusual places to stay in the UK. You can stay in a treehouse, yurt, Safari tent and all manner of converted barns/vehicles/shepherds huts and even hobbit style homes!