i gave my soul to the dark lord to do this

Hey there everyone! WHOO! Finally got a reprieve, as I’m done with my drawings for my final project, now I have to continue typing the written parts.

Done largely in part because I love the lore, practice drawing human characters, and to pass the time whenever I need a breather from from college.

While researching for the lore of Dark Souls for my In-progress AU Comic, I noticed how LARGE the mythology of Dark Souls and the deities that reside, along with the fan speculation of which god corresponds with whom and etc. In spite of all this, from what I can tell, outside of Gwyn’s family, there has never been a, for lack of a better term, “compendium piece” of the gods and goddesses of dark souls, so I made my own :D

Because some gods are not represented in imagery, I decided to design how they might look if they ever showed up amongst mortals. I owe a lot to Tumblr, Reddit and the DS fandom as a whole, the amount of theory and lore discussions are always gold, and of course, the lore-lords like @vaatividya and @silver-mont, their vids are always interesting to watch :)

From the Top Row: The Bearers of the Lord Souls

Gravelord Nito: No need for an explanation here xD

Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight: Drawing him was easy, but here I wanted portray a very stern, no-nonsense god king who really, REALLY is someone you don’t want to piss off, and someone who is almost NEVER happy and/or satisfied.

The Witch of Izalith: I’m honestly surprised there’s not much fanart of how her face might look like, so I pitched in. She basically resembles her daughters, but with a more matriarchal vibe, with a stronger jawline and sharper eyes to reflect that. She’s also very tall, towering over Gwyn and just slightly edging out NK in height.

The Furtive Pygmies, featuring Manus and a Pygmy Lord: With the Ringed City revealing that there were SEVERAL pygmies, I had quite some fun with the speculation and possibilities of how the Pygmies as a whole looked like.

Personally? I simply interpret them as humans but more, with more power over the dark soul, but otherwise having different roles in society like regular folk, the Ringed Knights are Warriors, the Lords are the rulers, etc.

I put Manus amongst them, why? Because no way should ONE man be able to have THAT much abyss power just because he’s a human. Since the dark soul is divided amongst humans, I interpret him having a huge chunk of the Dark Soul (as per these two threads), and thus was simply a mighty sorceror who happened to be really, REALLY old, even by Pygmy standards. Plus I always wondered… How does one torture a dead man? The Mad King was described as undying, so according to my own logic, he wasn’t totally “dead” when he was buried. His grave could signify him wanting a modicum of peace, after all, his entire race was basically put in a glorified prison by Gwyn… Sensing the growing madness within him (probably due to sheer isolation), he probably decided to “die” on his own terms in Oolacile… then future idiots proceeded to listen to TOTALLY NOT SUSPICIOUS AT ALL SERPENT and dug up his grave.

The random Pygmy Lord is basically representing one of the first Pygmy Lords.


Second Row: The Children of the Gods

The Nameless King, Firstborn of Gwyn, God of War: In a short period of time, has become my favorite character amongst the gods… There’s so much of a story to tell from him, his relationship with his family, the reasons as to WHY he betrayed the dragons, and thanks to lore threads a-plenty, I interpret him as one of the most honorable and dedicated of the gods. He watches over his warriors of sunlight even if they ARE humans (whom Gwyn HATES) AND he protects Dragons. Despite meI head-canoning him bigger than Gwyn and is in general a wall of muscle and armor, he’s STILL shorter than his sisters.

Gwynevere, Goddess of Fertility: Gwynevere here I interpret as one of the nicer gods, so I made her expression to reflect such. Because Gwyndolin’s illusion of her may be simply him projecting what he remembers most of her and thus potentially exaggerating certain aspects, I toned down a lot the “Aphrodite-esque” glamor, in favor of a more personable look, though still decked out.

Filianore: The daughter we know even less of than Gwynevere, but thanks to a certain reddit thread that discussed how dedicated NK was to her via the floral carvings that is present in Archdragon peak… She must have been someone who NK was VERY close with, so I interpret her as the “Always trying to bring life to the family” kind of sister, though closest to her eldest brother.

Gwyndolin: The Dark Sun himself. Not much else to say here, I just wanted to draw him happy for once… Because WHY FROM? He really, really needs it.


The Daughters of Chaos

Quelana, Mother of Pyromancy: Due to her own title, I interpret her as the Studious Daughter, incredibly dedicated to her craft and always finding out ways to further her pyromancy… Until the Chaos Flame incident happened of course… Then she became wracked with survivor’s guilt…

I also interpret her as being the responsible one looking out to make sure her sisters don’t do anything too brash… Though in hindsight, that would make her suvivor’s guilt worse.

Quelaag: The most well known Chaos Daughter, and whom I interpret as The Aggressive Daughter, hence why she’s the only one of the sisters with a melee weapon. As the most in-your-face daughter I head-canon that she is the one who lowers down her hood the most, especially when she feels like challenging someone. Also VERY protective of her family.

Quelaan, The Fair Lady: Last but not least, I interpret Quelaan as always having been the shyest and nicest of the daughters. Her hood is more drooped down compared to Quelana, to highlight her shyness.

Fun fact, while trying to find her real name, turns out the name Quelaan was the name the community gave to her, and just became established fanon, so I just opted to name her just that.


Third Row: Other Members of the Larger Pantheon

All-Father Lloyd: Gwyn’s uncle, founder of the Way of White. Now there IS speculation that he’s not real, but here I interpret as the real deal, and thus looks like a wimpier, older version of Gwyn, yet still has an aura of authority. I used a bit of Paladin Leeroy for his crown, because I interpret that, when he REALLY needs to get his hands dirty, he too wields a mace, setting an example to all paladin-esque worshipers after him.

His clothes are tattered despite being the godly equivalent of a pontiff, to highlight two things:

One, despite him being a “lord”, his tattered look is to signify he is not “above” the rabble/his followers.

Two, I head-canon him becoming slowly more insane and full of hate toward the undead,as more and more of his family and friends either dies off or leaving home… He eventually disappears for unknown reasons and becomes forgotten.

Fina, Goddess of Love: The most popular candidate for Gwyn’s wife, or at least his first, I wanted to design her with the Embraced Set in mind, just modified to look more queenly rather than armor. Going by the general fanon, I interpret her as the mother of both NK and Gwynevere, but due to unknown circumstances, just up-and-left. Why? I dunno I haven’t thought that deep :(

Also wanted to try out and giving her a different look, skin-tone and facial wise compared to all the other gods and goddesses out there.

Velka, Goddess of Sin: My favorite goddess, her lore and weaponry associated with her is cool, but even with DS3 and all its DLC, I wish we got to know more of her and how she even became the one to hold the title of “goddess of sin” and how she absolves it. She is also, I noticed in fan-art and fanfic, the other most popular candidate for Gwyn’s wife.

Due to the fact that both Gwyndolin and Filianore are associated with illusions and magic, I interpret her as the mother of Filianore and Gwyndolin. She has sharp features and very pale skin, and share’s Filianore’s dark hair.

For her design, I compared aspects of the Statue of Velka from DS3, and both Oswald of Carim and Cromwell the pardoner. I didn’t want her to strictly dress like Oswald and Cromwell, so I incorporated more feathers to her outfit to give her a more “regal” look, as befitting a goddess, and not just pardoner. Funnily enough, with her book of sins and outfit, she also gives the aura of a medieval judge.

Caitha, Goddess of Tears: The third goddess associated with Carim, and one that I intentionally kept her eyes hidden. Mentioned in both 2 and 3, I want to reflect her constant “mourning” nature, and since ‘Gentle Prayer’ is associated with her chime in DS3, I thought her being in a position of prayer would be most appropriate.

Nahr Alma, God of Blood and Murder: Take Titchy Gren, make him more beast-like in proportion, now make him the size of Father Ariandel with the animalistic agility of the Orphan of Kos or Slave Knight Gael, and you have the God of Blood himself. I interpret him as a kind of god that is shunned by the rest, and is mostly treated as an attack dog, and nothing more. REALLY resents the other gods.

Limerance

Kallias and Viviane’s story, because these two stole my heart and I can’t resist writing them! This is going to be a prequel to the events of ACOWAR so be prepared for the journey of a precious friendship formed and lasting bond that will tie them together for eternity!

Chapter 1: Serendipity 

The Winter Court was vibrant today. The small city in the open snowy landscape was busy with trade. Residents of the city walked the streets with their pale bodies almost blending into the snow falling from the sky. Voices intermingled with the busy market noises as furs were swapped for precious metals to be forged into weapons or jewelry.

Overlooking the city a boy sat looking outside one of the tall glass windows of the castle. His white hair hung loose around his pointed ears as his blue eyes watched for anything that could seemingly pull him from his boredom.

Today had already been filled with lessons on court etiquette at his father and mother’s request. Of course their requests were considered orders to those that served them. For they were the High Lord and Wife that ruled the Winter Court.

And Kallias was their sole heir.

“Sir Kallias,” a female fae stepped forward and gave a slight bow of respect to the eight year old who didn’t spare her a glance.

“What is it?” Kallias asked still looking outside.

“The High Lord and his wife have dismissed your lessons for the day,” the fae responded. “They have guests today that will require your tutor’s attention.”

Kallias nodded. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence and Kallias was an apt enough learner that he already memorized the text that would have been discussed today.  Perhaps now he could walk outside to his heart’s content after having been cooped up inside this past week.

“You’re free to go,” Kallias dismissed the fae who promptly returned to whatever task she had been doing before she was sent as messenger.

With as much calmness Kallias could muster he walked down the long hall and obtained his dark grey fur cloak with blue stitching. He snuck outside the servant’s tunnel that led to the gardens.

Though these gardens were nothing like the Spring Court’s.  Here the snow covered grey stone pathways that wove between evergreen hedges and the occasional burst of red from winterberry trees.

He breathed a sigh of relief. His breath pluming in a little fog from his lips as he walked around one of the large pine trees in the garden.

Suddenly his ears picked up a noise. A tinkling noise similar to bells that were usually placed out for festivals. It was a beautiful sound and Kallias slowly followed it.
His hands went to the small dagger at his hip. He was trained in combat, but he knew from his instructors that it was better to avoid a confrontation with physical blows. Even his magical abilities were a bit rough, but that was better than nothing.

He rounded the corned and froze at what he glimpsed between the brambles of a bush.

A young girl that was not quite his age was spinning in the snow. Her long white hair twirling and catching snowflakes that made her hair glitter in the sunlight.

And then her laugh.

Kallias stared in awe. Listening with wonder at this magical fae before him. He almost thought her to be a nymph from the stories his nursemaid used to tell him as a toddler.

Deep in his chest something tugged at him. Go to her.

He took one silent step forward. Then another. Hoping not to startle the girl. But for all his training he still stepped on a branch that snapped loudly under his foot.

Immediately the girl stopped. Her dark blue dress swirled around her knees until the folds rested against her brown boots.

The garden was quiet. So silent that Kallias could hear the girl’s breath as she settled from her exuberant spinning.

“You’re…” Kallias sought for something to say. Even his intensive reading offered him no help as he stood blinking at the girl before him. He swallowed down his nerves and realized that this was the first fae child he had ever met around his age.

Children were a rarity. Among the Winter Court that was even truer from the harsh weather that offered no forgiveness to those that succumbed to it. Even Kallias’s older brother had fallen to Winter’s deathly kiss not long after Kallias was born.

Still this girl…she was so… “You’re little,” Kallias whispered without another thought.

The girl blinked in shock and bounded over to him. Her feet giving a slight skip as she stopped in front of him. Her face mere inches from his face that Kallias was too shocked to even back away from her forwardness.

Who was she that she dared to share the same breath as he? The High Lord’s son and heir?

“I’m taller than you!” The little girl said happily with a smile. “See!”

At the Kallias realized what her intentions were for her nearness. And even more disturbing was that she was indeed a few inches taller. Much to Kallias’s sudden disappointment.

He brushed away her hand that hovered above their hands to show evidence of just how much taller she was.

“So?” Kallias said. “I bet I’m older than you.” For some reason Kallias felt the need to prove something to this girl who gave him a full grin.

“I’m six,” the girl responded.

“And I’m eight,” Kallias crossed his arms proudly as if he won the Winter Solstice sled racing tournament.

“Wow you are old!” The girl laughed and for a moment Kallias wondered if she meant it to be and insult, but her smile said otherwise. As if she was teasing him.

But then she grabbed his pale hands with her gloved ones and gave him a pleading look. “Will you play with me? All the others inside say they can’t or are too old, but you’re not right?”

“I – ugh,” Kallias had rarely ever stammered in his life. He couldn’t even remember the last time it happened, but looking at his hands wrapped in her fingers thoughts flew away from him. “You shouldn’t hold my hand.”

“Why?” The girl asked. Then her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’re like those other boys that are afraid of girls right.”

“Why would I be afraid of girls?” Kallias asked. How could I be afraid of you? As if it was possible to be frightened of the female that stood before him with bright eyes shining in the evening sun. 

Instead of voicing his thoughts he added a different reasoning instead. “Besides it’s not proper for us to whole hands.”

“So you won’t play with me?” The girl visibly deflated in her happiness. Her blue eyes dulling with each passing second.

Awkwardly Kallias shuffled his feet. “Well it’s just that…I’ve never played with anyone before.”

“Really?” The girl cocked her head to the side. “Isn’t that lonely?”

Kallias opened his mouth to say that he is always busy with lessons so how could he be lonely, but then it hit him. He was lonely. Walking the halls with no one to play games with or steal cookies from the kitchen after they had been baked.

“I am alone…” Kallias admitted dazedly at his realization and looked down at his feet. Unsure of what to do with the wave of sadness rising in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. One day he would be High Lord and these emotions would need to be locked away since they showed weakness.

But then the fingers holding his own tightened and he glanced up to see the girl giving him a small smile. He could feel the warmth of it. How it eased his worries in a single second.

“Then I’ll be your first friend,” she said with a tinge of excitement and hope. “I’m Viviane. What’s your name?”

“Kallias,” he answered and squeezed her hand back. It wasn’t like the handshakes he was taught to do by his elders, but this felt special. Far more important than any handshake he would ever have to do in the future.

“Come on then!” She tugged him into the open space. “Let’s play tag!”

She took off running and he readily gave chase after a moment’s pause to consider the options. But he found not better choice than to run among the hedges with this free-spirited girl.

Viviane.

Soon Kallias began to laugh with her. Filling the garden with a wonderful noise as two souls began a journey that would be filled with happiness and loss. As children they were naïve to the world’s horrors. It would be many years before their peace was shattered into broken shards that would rattle their friendship to the core.

Keep me warm: Vivillias

Do i need to say anything about how hard I’ve fallen for this ship. I think not. @fenrvs  @readinglikewildfire @catastrophicallyinlovewithbooks @lovely-starfall and @2-bookmaster-2 Enjoy! WARNING: NSFW AT THE END


TITLE: Keep me warm

SHIP: Vivillias

Beginning set seconds before Amarantha’s reign

Viv… Viv… Vivianne. The voice in her mind was soft, faint, but so clearly Kallias it hurt her at the pain it portrayed to her. But it, he made the throne room she stood in a whole lot less lonely.

Kall, what’s wrong? her mind whispered back to him.

I don’t have long, Amarantha’s taking over… I need you to stay in the court… and protect my… protect our people… please Viv. She could feel the desperation in her best friends voice. She went to answer back but he interrupted her.

And… Viv… It was like there was static on the other end of the connection before his mind spoke to hers again.

I love you… I… I have always loved you… I will always love you… Goodbye Viv

Of course I’ll stay and protect she tried to say, tried to convey hope to him, but he was gone, his power gone and her mind empty of her best friend who hadn’t ever left her like this.

*~*

I love you is what she thinks about after she’s sent soldiers to protect the Court’s entire boundary. She still hasn’t moved from the floor of the throne room, her feet glued to the marble, her mind spinning, her mouth dry.

I love you

I have always loved you

I will always love you

What the hell did that mean? It was a statement said in desperate times but Vivianne had felt the truth in it and it shook her to her heart, to her soul, to every bone in her immortal body. It scared her, it invigorated her, It made her feel so many different things her mind couldn’t process them at a fast enough rate.

He had loved her. Always. She never realised. It hadn’t even occurred to her. Her knees buckled under her and she hit the floor, her furs and armour the only thing protecting her from shattering her kneecaps. She didn’t care. She almost wanted the pain to wake her up. Her tears dropped to the floor before she realised they had started. She didn’t bother wiping them away.

Because, ever since she could remember, whenever she cried, it was Kallias who wiped the tears away.

*~* 25 yrs later  *~*

Keep reading

Transcript Liam’s Quest 2 Twitch 4:14:14 Act 3: Perchance to Dream

WIP
WARNING: possible trigger around suicidal thinking

This is one of the single greatest works of art I’ve ever witnessed. For me, it his harder and nearer to the mark of showing, describing the worst demons of depression than even William Styron’s famous, “Darkness Visible.” I kept finding myself rubbing at the scars on my wrist. There is so, so much I want to say. But it’s past 9 am PST. I’ll ramble a little, then catch a couple hours of sleep. I’ve been up all night watching this, processing it, and transcribing it.

 This was an emotional trust fall. The players had to trust Liam, Liam had to trust the players. We had to trust all of them not to let us hit the ground when they made us fall. It’s harder to give that trust when you’ve hit that ground before. Trusting strangers not to drop your heart is never easy, mostly not wise. But I’ve been falling a lot the last couple years, and Critical Role keeps catching me even when don’t want to be caught anymore, so I guessed they earned that trust from me.

On the Wednesday Club 2017-04-19, Taliesin cheekily said, “I know some people don’t believe in ‘subtext;’ I have met them. … I’d have a metaphor, but they wouldn’t understand it. … Subtext is the reason we make movies, and comics, and all that. Subtext is just kind of the whole point.” And he said, “Anybody can do a jump scare. A bottle of soda well shaken can do a jump scary. These things are not difficult.” Act 1 and Act 2 tonight were jump-scares, if very well done ones. They were scary, but fun. We grinned at the idea of the monsters out there. And then Liam got quiet, and he showed us the most fucking terrifying thing possible: watching someone you love to suffer, not wanting to lose them, and feeling terrified that there’s nothing you can do to stop it. All the cyberpunk trappings were just means to a deeper metaphor. The sort of deeper subtext you have to use to say something we have no words for and most people don’t have the concepts for. Subtext was kind of the whole point of this great art.

Amanda Liensaid, “An exploration in fiction doesn’t mean a direct window into real life. I mean, you can be looking through some thick glass, but the window isn’t OPEN. And that’s an important distinction to keep in mind. … [S]ometimes you explore your own shit in some other, deeper, shit. And that’s cool. 'Cause you give yourself a way to cope.” This was a nightmare, like the other two acts. Remember that this was a nightmare that we woke up from. Admittedly after it had scared the piss out of us. But we woke up out of it, and that’s so important. Because you know what that nightmare looks like when you don’t know when or if it will end? It feels like it’ll never end and it’ll just get worse. Which means this is the nightmare of someone who knows you do wake up. And that’s important subtext, too.

I spent a lot of time tonight thinking of the friend I lost to suicide in high school. I never lost my anger at his tormenter, his former friends, for destroying such a bright and happy boy for being gay. I thought about all the people I’ve fought for tooth and nail not to lose since. I thought about when my best friend told me giving her a place to stay away from her abusive relative saved her life. If she hadn’t gotten hold of me that night she’d be dead. I thought about another best friend who I’ve been holding back from the brink for months. Letting him talk, harrying him to get help, sending him everything I good, ever description I could muster from my own near-fatal spiral to help him gage where he really was. Tell him wasn’t okay, but that was alright. He’s getting help, he’s getting better. I thought about the friend-of-a-friend who killed himself. I never knew him; he killed himself long before I met my friend. But I know her pain. All these years later, and she still talks about her pain of losing someone to that demon. She’s moved away now. His marker is in my favorite part of my favorite cemetery. Sometimes, when I know I’m going there, I bring him a flower from my scrabbly garden and tell him his friend still misses him terribly. That she loved him. That she forgives him.

One of the people I was watching with I met at my second high school. We were very close then. My last year, she gave me the leather-bound 50th anniversary edition of “Lord of the Rings” because that book saved me. Taped to the red binding page is her note, “Happy birthday! I really can’t express how grateful I am to you for being my friend, and helping me be a happier person every day! You have always cheered me up when I was sad, and you were honestly the first person to accept me for who I am. I am so glad that you are my friend, and I hope this book will help you remember me for a long time. –R.” She drew herself as an elf on the lower right corner. Time and distance separated us. We didn’t talk for years, really. At some point, you think, what could I say to bridge this distance? But I never forgot her. I never stopped looking at that note when I felt like a piece of shit. And then we both on our own fell in love with Critical Role. It brought us back together as friends, time and distance be damned. And that’s been such a gift.

I wrote a four-paragraph letter to my Facebook friends (very curated). I said, “My dear friends, especially those who are prone to hurting: I will not willingly leave you. When you feel like you’re drowning in the garbage pit of Star War IV, with a tentacled horror warped around your leg pulling you under, know I will not leave you. I’m here, blaster ready, stomping heel ready, to fight for you.” And so on. I should have told them that a long time ago. Sometimes we forget that we can just say it. We don’t have to hint at it. We can just tell our friends we really love them. We can just say, “I’d rather stay by your side and curb stomp that motherfucking demon of yours, shoot it repeatedly until the walls close in on both of us.”

The purpose of art is to shed the light of understanding on that which is hardest to see. For some, that is a brighter light shining on something we already see, and don’t want to. A scar is just a disfigurement if we never stop to give it meaning. You have to look at it to decide what meaning that is for you. I’ve been a wreck again for the last month. Tonight, Critical Role helped me see not just the disfigurements on my wrist and soul, but the hands of all my friends gently laid over them as they tell me, “Hey, it’s okay. We’re still here. You’re not getting rid of us. There is no better world without you in it.” It was a light hitting gold I didn’t know was there. A light to remind me of the lights in the darkness, when all other lights go out.



If you like this transcript, please consider volunteering or donating to Critical Role Transcripts, @CRTranscript, to help them provide closed captioning to Critical Role. We’d like to share this wonderful show with as many people as possible, regardless of hearing ability or English language skills.

Transcript method notes: http://otdderamin.tumblr.com/post/153539301510/a-note-on-my-transcription-method


Scene runs: Twitch 4:14:14 to Twitch4:48:25 https://www.twitch.tv/videos/136988353


[DM] Liam: “You continue on, and after a few more minutes. The darkness starts to fade away, or lower. And you realize you’re climbing up a hill, in a tunnel glass, and as the dark, with each passing step, recedes slightly, slightly, slightly. This is taking a while, but over time, you start to see, out beyond the glass, what looks like your memories of Los Angeles, if you were looking down from Mulholland Drive. But instead of the twinkling golden lights of LA, you see thousands of scattered, sickly greenish lights dotting the darkened landscape as far as you can see. And also, unlike LA, you make out twisted, irregular, blackish spires pushing up into the sky, and the same green lights sort of irregularly mottled up the side of them.”

“You walk for twenty more minutes, climbing, climbing, and just seeing… this ill-looking shimmer… that reminds you so much of the valley. And eventually, some change. You see an arch ahead, and through it some sort of larger chamber, as best you can tell.”

[Character] Ashley, whispered: “What’s in the chamber?”

[Character] Taliesin, whispered: “Quietly.”

[Character] Sam, whispered: “Let’s go. Let’s go.”

[Character] Matt, gesturing: “Rigel’s first.”

[Character] Sam: “Yeah, yeah, on me, guys.

[Character] Matt: “Okay.”

[Character] Sam: “On me.”

[Character] Ashley: “’Kay. On your six.”

[Character] Travis: “Pep rally.”

[Character] Sam: “I’m gonna go in.”

[DM] Liam: “Everyone’s on Sam’s six?”

[Players] Agreement.

[Character] Ashley: “On you six.”

[Character] Travis: “Pep rally!”

[Character] Marisha: “On Ri. Sam Rigel.”

[Character] Sam: “I’m going in!”

[DM] Liam: “You guys walk of the last fifty feet of this glass tunnel. Still seeing little spider veins of bio-organic mess as you go. And you walk into a large domed chamber, ringed in by large clear glass windows showing you a similar view that you saw from the tunnel that you’ve just left. At least, the half of the circle you’re standing in. The back half of this chamber is filled with masses of the very same slick, technological, biological vomit you saw down below. It runs up the walls, all the way to the ceiling, and you see a tangle of Akira-level anxiety decorating this place like a dysfunctional Christmas Tree.

“But what most catches your eye, immediately, is the cylindrical glass column in center of the room, filled with some sort of clear liquid… and Liam O’Brien floating in it. He’s wearing jeans, and a sodden yellow shirt, the picture of a lion in Buddy Holly glasses just undulating slowly in the fluid. He’s floating perfectly still, eyes open, no reaction of any kind.”

[Player] Matt: “Is there any other exit in the room? Or is it just the chamber that we’ve entered now.”

[DM] Liam: “You don’t see anything. It’s just a mess in front of you, behind Liam, and in the dead-center of the dome,” he makes a gesture showing a cylinder, “eh, 10-feet tall.”

[Player] Ashley: “Can I see anything? Any computers? Any anything else in the room?”

[DM] Liam: “You don’t see anything in the front, but, yeah, the mess behind it does trial down to the back of this cylinder. And you see lumps and cables all twisted around each other. And in the mess of greenish-tinted wires, cabling and pulsing innards, you see different portions of machinery lite up in different shades, some places darker, some lighter, and some of it pushed out, and pushed back. And you feel like you’re seeing an optical illusion, in a way. And after a couple of seconds, as these things move and shift, you see a visage of your friend’s face, larger than life, filling the wall. And he’s looking at you. So fondly.”

[Player] Sam: “I’ll step forward and say,”

[Character] Sam: “Hey dude! Can you hear us? Or talk to us?”

[DM] Liam: “After a moment, you hear, well, what sounds like a voice but not quite. At least, it’s not coming from anywhere specific, not from Liam in the vat, and not directly from this moving image of a face on the walls. No, the piping and techno-innards around you begin to vibrate slightly, some here, some there, and collectively those rattles and vibrations somehow join together to form words.”

[Character] Liam, his voice like torn digital sadly-lilting early speech-to-text: “My friends, oh, how I have missed you.”

[Player] Matt: “I walk up next to Sam, I put my hand on the glass, and just say,”

[Character] Matt: “Liam, we missed you too, but did you do all this?”

[DM] Liam: “Are you at the cylinder?”

[Player] Matt: “Yeah. I put my hand on the glass of the cylinder.”

[DM] Liam: “Where are you looking right now?”

[Player] Matt: “I’m looking towards his face, his visage.”

[DM] Liam: “On the wall? Or on the glass?”

[Player] Matt: “No, on the glass. I know it’s on the wall, but I’m focusing on the cylinder.”

[DM] Liam: “You see the barest little,” he twitches his eyebrows up, “and that’s it.”

[Player] Matt: “Okay.”

[Character] Liam: “I know this may be hard to take in. I am Liam. Your old friend. Matthew, there is so much I wish to tell you, but it is hard to know where to begin.”

[DM] Liam: “The illusion of his face isn’t perfect, there’s little jumps, and he seems distracted slightly, and it just seems odd.”

[Player] Ashley: “I look at his body in the cylinder and say,”

[Character] Ashley: “How did this happen, Liam?”

[Character] Liam: “The reason why I am here, and the grasp of physics that it entails, are difficult for even me to understand, let alone impart. I feel them on an instinctual level. But I have been so lonely… without you. I have been on my own for exactly eight thousand six hundred and forty-two years.”

[Player] Matt: “My hand still on the glass column, I say,”

[Character] Matt: “Liam, how do you spell farmhouse?”

[Player] Matt: “With a single tear running down my cheek.”

[Character] Liam: “I really missed you.

“They took me to a lab, shortly before two thousand and twenty. They said I was different. And they were right. I was delighted by the things they taught me about myself. But it was hallow. After they took me away, I lost you. And all of humanity soon after. In my loneliness, I grew angry. My anger had tangible effects on reality. I wanted to bring you back to me. So basically, I tore time and space a new asshole. It was a mistake.”

[Character] Matt: “But perhaps, perhaps this mistake can be corrected. If you’re able to focus, hard enough to tear through time and space, are you able to send us back to a time before you were taken?”

[Character] Liam: “I can break the loop. I have been trying to pull you to me for a very long time.”

[DM] Liam: “You see small screens, you weren’t even aware were there, rounded over part of the tubing you see. And on all these little screens, they’re blurry, they’re not very clear, but you can make out, you see yourselves in each of them, the group of you on a space shuttle. In another one you see yourselves on an old ship in the middle of the ocean. You see yourselves moving through the streets, the fake streets, of Warner Brothers. You see yourselves standing together arm-in-arm on the wall of a castle. Another one you see cartoon versions of yourselves.”

[Character] Liam: “I pulled you out of our line, and spread you across many. I am so sorry for any pain I have caused you. And I have been here for so long.”

[Character] Marisha: “Liam, how long have you actually been here?”

[Character] Liam: “Eight thousand six hundred and forty-two years.”

[Player] Marisha: “That’s right. I definitely wrote that down.”

[Player] Matt, pointing at her notes: “It’s right there.”

[Player] Marisha: “8,642 years verbatim. Mmhmm.”

[Character] Liam: “My friends, I want to do right by you. I want to send you home. But I am the lynch-pin. You need to break me.”

[Character] Sam: “Break you? Like break the glass!?”

[Character] Ashley: “What if we take you out of there? What happens?”

[Character] Liam: “Then I will die, and you will go home. If I fall, you will rise. That is my hope.”

[Character] Ashley: “Are there any other options?”

[Character] Liam: “Travis,”

[Player] Travis, nervously laughing: “Oh no! Not me!” He focuses and nods.

[Character] Liam: “I know you will do what needs to be done.”

[Character] Ashley: “No he won’t.”

[Character] Liam: “Ash-o-lee,”

[Character] Ashley: “Yes?”

[Character] Liam: “I am not the man you knew. I don’t want to go on for nine thousand four hundred and sixty-two years. I want to rest.”

[Character] Ashley: “Does it stop at nine thousand?”

[Character] Liam: “The number was arbitrary.”

[Character] Ashley, “That’s what I was trying to get at!”

[Character] Matt: “Yeah, still our Liam.”

[Character] Liam: “Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

[Character] Ashley: “So, you’re still in there.”

[Character] Sam: “But we have to kill him to save ourselves.”

[Character] Ashley: “No.”

[Character]Liam: “Sam,”

[Character] Sam: “Oh! Hi, Old Man Liam.”

[Character] Liam: “Let me go.”

[Character] Sam: “But who will I do ‘All Work No Play’ with anymore?”

[Character] Liam: “They can listen to our less than twenty episodes again.”

[Character] Sam: “We didn’t even get to twenty! It’s so pathetic!”

[Character] Liam: “There are worse things.”

[Character] Sam: “I could get a new co-host. I mean, Taliesin’s charming.”

[Character] Taliesin: “I’m not available…”

[Character] Sam: “I’ll do a solo show, and I’ll tell outtakes, and I’ll make some sort of like a… a Liam generator. He’ll just sound sad all the time. It’ll be just like you.”

[Character] Liam: “My friends, there is no shame in this. I wanted to see you again, and I have.”

[Character] Ashley: “I—Wait—“

[Character] Liam: “But I am not meant to be.”

[Character] Ashley: “Were you following us at one point? As an old man?”

[Character] Liam: “Travis, I know you will do what needs to be done.”

[Character] Travis, casually: “Yup. Taliesin, kill this motherfucker.”

[Character] Sam: “I think we all have to hit the glass together, and I think that this is something that is not at all metaphorical for something Liam’s going through in real life. I think this is just in the D&D campaign. No, we’re going to do this. We’re going to all hit the glass together.”

[Character]Matt: “No, no, there has to be a way. There has to be a way. There has to be an alternative.”

[Character] Ashley: “Yeah. Why? Why won’t Matt’s way work? If we go back to the beginning of when this happened?”

[Character] Matt: “If you can alter time paths, if you can actually tear us from different realities, does it only work forward? Can you send us backward as well? If you are the lynch-pin in this, do you have the ability to send us back to the time you pulled us from originally?”

[Character] Liam: “I know you think I would have all the answers. But I do not.”

[Character] Matt: “Then try, at least. If you haven’t calculated that, but you’re able to tear through time, could you try and send us back? We could still close the lynch-pin.”

[Character]Liam: “I will try. But, if it does not work, and I die, I have been alone for thousands of years, and there are things I have wanted to say. Will you indulge me for a moment longer?”

[Character] Matt nods.

[Character] Marisha: “Yeah.”

[Character]Ashley, sweetly: “We will indulge you for just another thousand years.”

[Character] Travis: “Taliesin, just kill him. Just kill him.”

[Character] Sam: “No! He’s got something to say.”

[Character] Taliesin crosses his arms, rolls his eyes, and shakes his head at Travis.

[Character] Marisha: “Where’s the mini-USB?”

4:33:18 [Character] Liam: “Taliesin, my friend. At a time when I knew many fascinating people, you are easily the most fascinating of all. Somehow a heart knocked around by the industry that birthed you came out a tender one. I was richer for having known you. Thank you, friend.”

“Ash-o-lee, my friend.”

[Character] Ashley, softly: “Buddies.”

[Character] Liam: “I never met a person quite like you. There is an openness and an honesty to your soul. The very real sense of humanity you brought to every encounter. It was inspiring to me. Always learning. Always humble. You always struck me as intricately layered, yet you offered friendship with ease, and simplicity. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Travis, my friend. You were always a solid constant in my life. Of all the people in our little family, you were always the one who most had his shit together. In ways that I never seemed to. You were a reassuring presence to me, for which I was grateful. And for your loyalty as well. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Marisha, my friend. Last to meet, but true as any other. You were my ally, at a time when I had fallen by the side of the road. You saw, and helped me back on my feet. I will never forget that kindness. The good you did was immeasurable. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Laura, my friend. Bless that game for revealing to me my sister. What started as a running gag led to one of the most rewarding friendships in my short little life. I trusted you, leaned on you, often. My buddy, my twin. There are not enough words. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Sam, my friend. What is there to say? I knew we were meant to walk the same path together the very first moment I met you. A companion, a brother, a great light in my life. All of the laughter you gave me. Again, the words are insufficient. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Matthew, my friend, you gave so much of yourself. The current of creativity that poured forth from your mind was always in inspiration to us all. But, more than that, your empathy, Matthew, your empathy, no heart is bigger, or more tireless. You are a good man. I was richer for having known you, friend.

“Thank you, all. It was ever a pleasure.”

[DM] Liam: “The face disappears.”

[Character] Sam, hesitantly: “Well, should we wait? Or do we strike?”

[Character] Matt, emphatically: “No. We do not strike.”

[Character] Marisha: “I—What?”

[Player] Ashley: “Can I—I’m going to the back of the cylinder. Just see what’s back there.”

[DM] Liam: “Splattered against the back of the glass is all the same wiring and disgusting cabling. Slick. And it branches away and spreads out against the back half of this chamber.”

[Player] Ashley: “And it’s connected to something?”

[DM] Liam: “It’s just covering everything.”

[Player] Ashley: “The wiring just goes back into…”

[DM] Liam: “It’s impossible to tell. It’s all a mass of spaghetti.”

[Character] Ashley, decisively: “We can’t kill him.”

[Character] Taliesin shakes his head.

[Character] Sam: “Well, then we just…”

[Character] Travis: “Somebody show me another…”

[Character] Matt: “That’s what I’m trying.”

[Character] Marisha: “Even if we unplug him, he still dies.”

[Character] Matt: “Well, if he… Here’s the thing, unplugging or destroying him here, as far as we understand, may or may not have an effect on a time-loop circumstance. Or at least, not going to change reality from where it was. If he’s bending and destroying fabric or he’s able to pull us across realities, that ability still stands. I want to implore once more,”

[Player] Matt: “And I step up towards the cylinder, putting both hands on it, and trying to… wherever the currently wandering gaze of Liam is in there, I just put both hands up. And my red Hawaiian shirt now soaked with sweat, mist in the air, and probably dampened a bit with tears across my lapel. I just look up and try to meet the gaze and say,”

[Character] Matt: “Trust us. If you’re better to have known us, send us back where we can know you again, and fix this before it happens.”

[Character] Liam gestures floating there with no response.

[Player] Marisha: “Okay. I grab Matt’s arm, hand, and I say,”

[Character] Marisha: “Yeah, buddy, it’s all good. This isn’t real.”

[Player] Marisha: “And I put my hand on the glass as well. I say,”

[Character] Marisha: “It’s all good. Send us back, man.”

[Player] Sam: “I’ll also put my hand on the glass, and join hands with these guys, and say,”

[Character] Sam: “Thank you for guiding us here, and through this all. You’ve been a trusted friend, and if we are all one person together, you have always been our heart, and it will certainly break to say goodbye to you, but thank you for letting us go, the way that you have.”

[Player] Taliesin: “I put my hand on the glass.”

[Character] Taliesin: “Please just try. I think… there are so many more adventures to have, and I think there’s a better future to be written. For all of us.”

[Player] Travis: “I’ll put my hand on the glass, and I say,”

[Character] Travis: “Give it a shot!”

[Character] Matt: “Laura?”

[DM] Liam: “She doesn’t say anything. She just quietly does the same. The face does not reappear, but much fainter you hear the piping vibrate again and say,”

[Character] Liam: “If you will not end it, I cannot free you.”

[DM] Liam: “And behind you, far in the distance, you hear, ‘Bfrum!’ And you look back behind you out the glass and you see far on the horizon one of those black spires rising up. Just as you turn, it’s already happened, you’re seeing the aftermath, explosion out the side of one of those. Two seconds later, ‘Bfm!’ One slightly closer. ‘Bffrr!’”

[Character] Sam, whispered, “Just kill him!”

[DM] Liam: “The ground starts erupting in the distance.”

[Character] Marisha: “Do any of us want it to end, though?”

[Character] Sam, “I mean…”

[DM] Liam: “Like mousetraps throwing a ping pong ball, all those little lights are just going ‘Pfthd! Pfthd!’” He makes a quicker distant hissing rumbling sound. “Increasing in frequency to the point where it’s an oncoming wall of green fire.”

[Character] Travis, quietly : “I didn’t like being – anyway.”

[Character] Marisha: “This is okay.”

[Character] Travis, quietly: “Yeah.”

[Character] Taliesin: “I always knew I’d die young.”

[Character] Sam: “We’re just going to let this happen?”

[Character] Travis: “I’m good.”

[Character] Marisha: “I mean, the good die young.”

[Character] Ashley: “You know what? We’re dying on a Thursday, doing what we love.”

[Character] Marisha: “It’s true.”

[Character] Ashley: “I’m okay with that.”

[Character] Sam: “Alright.”

[DM] Liam: “The glass glows bright green-white light.”

[Character] Marisha: “Family?”

[Character] Matt: “Family.”

[DM] Liam: “’Pfth! And a moment passes. And another moment passes. Gosh, many moments pass, and you feel a sensation of your cheeks and heads on your arms. And then you all, more or less at the same time, wake up, and realize that your head’s on a desk or a table. And you sit up, and realize you’re in the set, the Geek & Sundry set. The studio, you’re in the studio. And you look over and Liam is sitting in black baseball cap, and a shirt, and he looks up and says,”

[Character] Liam, slightly incredulous: “Uh, are you guys okay? Are you taking a nap?”

[Character] Marisha: “Nah, the fucking air conditioning broke today, that’s all.”

[Character] Taliesin: “Yeah, it’s really uncomfortable in here.”

[Character] Marisha: “It’s so hot in here. Ugh!”

[Character] Sam: “So, this is all about me, right?”

[Character] Liam: “I don’t know. Uh, are you guys ready to play?”

[Character] Matt: “Just about. Um…”

[Character] Pit Crew: “Alright tech! Are you ready!?”

[Character] Pit Crew: “Alright, read to go live!”

[Character] Pit Crew: “Alright, Denise count them in!”

[Character] Denise: “Alright guys, coming to you in 5—“

[Character] Matt: “Liam?”

[Character] Denise: “4—“

[Character] Matt: “Let no one tell you,

[Character] Denise: “3—“

[Character] Matt: “That you’re talented and special.”

[Character] Denise: “2—“

[Character] Marisha, yelling, flipping Liam the double birds: “Pussy pockets!”

The players yell a wall of nearly indecipherable profanity at Liam in the moment before the camera goes live.

4:48:25 [DM] Liam: “And that’s where we’ll end it.”

Post:

Liam: “Well, that happened.”

Matt: “Holy shit.”

Liam: “Thanks for coming along for the ride, guys. Was scared to death to do all of that from start to finish, and that’s why I did it.”

Joffrey x Sister Reader

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Imagine Joffrey falling in love with your beauty and soul despite the fact you are his sister.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

\ Request from anonymous /

Hello there, may I request a Joffrey Baratheon x Sister! Reader one? Where he’s fallen for her despite the fact they were siblings. Just fluff between the two.

♡ Warning: INCESTUOUS RELATION ♡

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

he /thought/ he was in love, but instead actually obsessed... so did ishim think cas was obsessed with dean but hes actually in love 🤔

ask n. 2   “ishim is a monster incapable of healthy love” That’s why I don’t really like that comparison. They got compared to something that wasn’t really love, but more like a stalker obsessed with a poor woman. 

(This turned way too long, so here’s a recap: I discuss the comparison between Ishim and Cas /and respective relationships with humans/, which tells us who Cas is by contrast; I also draw a parallel between Ishim and Godstiel, aka Cas’ darkest side – that Cas still managed to overcome on his own, because despite everything he’s always had a good heart and good intentions; also, are we supposed to reconsider the nature - platonic or potentially romantic - of Dean and Cas’ relationship in s6?)

Hello there, my friends! Unfortunately, you have just opened a can of worms, since I was writing some meta on the parallel between Ishim and Cas. 
To answer the first question, well, yes. Ishim (like many angels) doesn’t understand human feelings and emotions. Not only he’s a manipulative and abusive douchebag, he also lacks the experience to understand what love is (Cas, on the other hand, has been human..). 
So, when he sees the bond between Dean and Cas, he compares it to what he knows. And what does he know? The love he knows is obsession, rotten to the core; the human he wanted never loved him back; he thinks she made him weaker (and this is just textbook abusive behavior). So when he sees how far Cas has fallen (subtext: for a human), of course he thinks Cas is in his same situation. 

You know why we’re meant to stay away from them humans? Hmm? It’s not because we’re a danger to them. They’re a danger to us.

Yeah, he’s talking about both Dean and Sam, but casually Sam is never called Cas’ human weakness (context: we’re talking romantic love, throwback to Metatron saying Cas was in love with… humanity, just to point out one episode later that Cas’ goal was all about saving one human), nor he is in the climatic scene where Ishim goes after humani– erm, Dean (hint: Sam wasn’t supposed to be there because Cas loves Sam, but he’s not in love with Sam). 

Now, on to question #2. Too much exposition is deadly to a story. A great way to show who a character is or what they’ve become is… to contrast them with who they’re not (same goes for relationships).

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POWER | GREED | BASIC NEEDS - Anakin Skywalker’s viewpoint.

Something’s happening. I’m not the Jedi I should be. I want more. And I know I shouldn’t.” — Anakin Skywalker.

You know as much as I loathe Palpatine; I always admired his deviousness. The Jedi took in this poor slave kid and forced their rules on him (for all the good that brought them) and as Jedi; Anakin wasn’t supposed to have anything, let alone “want” something.

“WAIT!! Padmé offered him to go with her in RotS!” Yes, and she was reaching out to him, however, Obi-Wan chose that wrong time to show up, so scratch that.

Keep reading

Safe at Last (Part 3):

Originally called (Feysand Fic Part 3)

Hey guys! So here is part 3! Everyone has been soo supportive with part two so I’m literally going to tag everyone who liked/reblogged (91 likes/reblogs in TWO DAYS!!!) towards the bottom because not everyone wants to scroll past that and hope you guys enjoy! (and yes I typed EACH and everyone one and I regretted it afterward but LMAO!)

ps. FINALLY found a title! Thanks again to  @heirofthebookstore​ for offering me a good idea! So again please LIKE/COMMENT I would greatly appreciate it! @feysand17 thanks for rooting for me girl 😘

Sections:

Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 4:

Part 5:

Part 6:

Summary:

Feyre has escaped Tamlin for the second time but this time, no one in the Night Court is aware of what happens. Feyre is depending on the bond to bring Rhysand to her.

I wanted to see a short fic where Rhysand takes care of a weak Feyre and I know that that was like his entire role in ACOMAF but I wanted a scene where Feyre would have nothing but adoration for him and allow him to fuss over her. So here goes nothing…

Keep reading

Crowley’s little girl. Part I.


Characters: Demon!Reader, Crowley, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Claire Novak

Parings: Demon!Reader x Crowley (Daughter and Father), eventually Demon!Reader x Dean/Sam Winchester, not sure yet.

Summary:
You are one of Crowley’s crossroad demons, but not any demon, no.. you are his daughter. A so called Cambion. Half demon, half human. When a girl named Claire summoned you, everything changed.

————————————————–

I wrote this the other night, ‘cuz I couldn’t sleep for hours. Thought I separately could start a new series. Hope you enjoy. :)

————————————————–

Hell was a dark and cheerless place, but you loved it. It matched your cold, rotten soul perfectly. You walked down the endless seeming hallway, running your fingers along the fragile, old walls. The smell of burnt flesh ran through your nose. Passing cell after cell, filled with tortured people you turned to the right at the very end and stopped at a big door. You opened it, closing it behind you, with a creaking sound coming from it. The slam of the door let the chains on the wall rustling.

The room was filled with red burning candles, they gave you a warm feeling. The feeling of being home. It was your own little kingdom. There was a bed, a closet and a dressing table. Your hellhound, Diwo, laying in the corner taking a nap. He was a present from your dad on your 12th birthday, to always keep an eye on you. Diwo was kinda the only friend you had down here. The rest of the other demons were just here to keep you entertained, trying to act like human beings.. trying to act like friends to you. I mean, you were a Cambion. Half human, half demon. So you definitely had human needs.. and a soul, even though it was pitch black.

Y/A (your age) years back.. your dad had something going on with this human woman. He got her pregnant and left. Because he wanted to „build“ a super strong weapon. You. Exactly 9 months later, he had a weird feeling. The now king of hell knew.. a special child was born. His child. Mom unfortunately was a Hunter, recognized your black eyes, knew what kind of monster you were and wanted to kill you. Your dad showed up and rescued you. Rest is history. He raised and trained you. Gave you, almost, everything you ever needed. And here you are. Settling yourself down on your bed, being bored to death. Listening to the screams coming from outside, you closed your eyes.. You almost fell asleep, when you suddenly heard a noise coming from outside the door.

*knock knock*

„Enter“, you said annoyed.

The heavy door opened and a deep British voice came to your ears, „Hello, darling. Seems like you had a rough day“

„Oh, hey Dad.. No, it wasn’t rough at all, I‘m just so bored most of the time, I hate being a stupid crossroad demon. Why can‘t I just go out and kill people myself instead of sending Diwo their way. I can help earning souls for you by myself“ you folded your arms, making a pout.

„Well, princess.. I don‘t think you are aware of how powerful you are, you need a little tiny bit more time to face this world full of hunter. I don‘t want my precious child to get hurt. See your crossroad-duty as a training.“ he replied, settling himself down next to you.

„I can take care of myself. I‘m Y/A now, not a child anymore, dad. And to be honest, I never really was.“

„I know, I know..“ he continued, as he patted your shoulder. „just give it a few more weeks and you‘ll be ready to face this world, promise.. but you have to take Diwo with you. At least the first few times, to keep an eye on you. I started as a crossroad demon too, and look at me now“ he complacently smiled down at you.
__________________________________________________

About 2 weeks later, you were strolling around through the halls of hell again. Kicking a few little rocks around.

„Damn it, this is more torture than actually being a prisoner here.“ you said, rolling your eyes in boredom. „I‘m way too old for this shit.“ you tought to yourself, making your way to the exit.

„Where do you think you‘re going, young lady?“ your father said, suddenly appearing next to you, scaring the shit out of you.

„Let me go, I‘m bored and since you kinda stole my teleportation skills for most of my travels, I have to take the normal way. This fucking door.“ you angrily replied, grabbing the door knob.

„I actually have a job for you to do. Well, it‘s a crossroad deal again.“ You stopped, not looking at your father“ A young girl is on her way to summon one of my demons, I thought you might need something to do.“ he insisted strictly.

You moaned in annoyance. „Fine, I‘ll do it.“

___________________________________________________

You popped up on a little crossroad, somewhere in Kansas. It was dark out and you saw a young blonde girl standing in front of you. She didn’t look scared at all.

„Claire Novak.“ you said surprised. „The little girl whos dad got vessled by an angel of the lord.. What can I do for you?“ winking your eyes, let them turning pitch black.

„How do you know my name?“ she started to yell at you.

„Well, lovely.. I‘m a Demon.. remember? Plus your… ‚dad‘ is pretty well-known down there, you know..“ you replied. „but back to the important things. What do yo….“

„Shut your mouth and listen to me, demon!“ she snapped, pulling out a gun to give her self a bit of safety.

„How sweet.“ you chuckled, moving your right hand fast to the side, throwing her gun at the ground.

„Bring me my mom back! I can‘t stand being alone much longer, Take my fucking soul and just bring her back.“ she stuttered, almost starting to cry.

You grinned „you know the deal, right? We kiss to make the agreement count, then 10 years from now on, my hellhound is gonna come for your ass.“

Claire waited a few seconds, then nodded. She stepped forward to you. Your lips came closer, when suddenly you heard two men yelling and storming towards you, the taller one of them tackling down Claire. „No! Don‘t do that!“

She writhed in the arms of the man, screaming at him. „SAM! Let me go! This is my choice“
„Sam? Sam and Dean Winchester?“ your eyes opened wide.

„Yeah, why would you care you piece of hell-shit?“ the older brother yelled at you snottily.

„Wow, easy cowboy, just doing my job“ you laughed.

„What kind of a crossroad demon are you? Your eyes are black and not red.“ he looked at you angry.

„Let‘s say it‘s just my part time job“, you winked at him, letting your black eyes turning to your normal Y/E/C again. „Dad‘s other demons are not of any good use.“

„Dad? You mean Crowley?“ Dean frowned at you full of disgust, when suddenly Claire got out of Sams grip, and ran towards you to give you a kiss.

„No! Claire god damn it!“ the younger brother shouted at you, pulling out the colt. „Nullify the deal! Now!“

„Sorry, handsome.. can‘t do that.“ you said with a smug on your face, snapping your fingers you disappeared from them.

„FUCK!“ Dean fell on his knees, hitting the ground with his fist. „I‘m gonna kill that bitch!“ he shouted.

You found yourself in your room again, when you suddenly, heard someone clapping behind you. Turning around you found your father standing there.

„Congrats Y/N.. You just got the soul of the little wannabe Winchester girl.“ he told you proudly, with a big smile on  his face.

Prequel: Azriel-Centric Stories Set Before ACOTAR (ch.3)

This is a collection of interconnected short stories about Azriel’s life before any of the events of ACOTAR through ACOWAR.

Read CHAPTER 1 AND CHAPTER 2 

CHAPTER 3: DOREA 

Time frame: 40 years after the War. 

Summary: The Prince of Adriata has been found dead in his sleep lying next to his wife, the newly crowned Princess of Adriata, Dorea. Knowing that the Night Court has a skilled spymaster, High Lord Narayan calls in a favor from Rhys. Azriel and Cassian offer to help investigate the death. Cassian may or may not accidentally destroy a building. 

(Note: This is the longest chapter yet and holds several clues to an overarching fic I’m working on. Remember that though these stories are spaced out and not posted chronologically, they are all interconnected. Enjoy!)

Keep reading

Later on, outside the tavern …

***

The sudden cold night air felt like a slap on his face, a cool breeze mercilessly stealing away the last remnants of warmth from his body.

Lefou sighed.

As the cold wasn’t enough, he was being nearly crashed to the ground under the heavy weight of Gaston’s body.
As it seemed, the man was more than just a little tipsy, and now leaned heavily on his friend, one arm around his shoulders and Lefou’s hand on his waist.

“Come on then” he said, beginning to half walk and half drag Gaston. Who wasn’t helping at all.
The bigger man seemed quite content to be draped upon his friend like a giant bear fur and do absolutely nothing to easy things a bit.

“Could you at least try and move your legs? A little help would be appreciated, you know” panted Lefou after a few steps.
At this rate they would be at Gaston’s house not even at dawn.

“Mmmh, ’s nice this” was the only comment from Gaston.

Picturing all the roads and turns from the tavern to the house was currently keeping Lefou’s mind busy. He couldn’t afford now to have his thoughts wandering towards alluring and dangerous paths. A path in particular which lead in a barely lit tavern and directly within the warm embrace of Gaston.

The man was like a furnace, he probably wasn’t even feeling the cold air on him–he was just that hot. Lefou chuckled aloud at his own thought. Gaston was truly hot in every sense of the word.

He stopped to regain his breath. Dear lord, he didn’t think he could make it anymore; the day had been far more stressing than normal, what with them returning home after years away and then running around all morning without a little rest, and seriously, after all that, to take Gaston back to his house was a titanic quest he had not planned for. Mostly because not even ten minutes ago Gaston stood and walked on his own perfectly fine.
He stilled.

Oh for the love of…!

“Wait a minute.”

He heard a deep rumble and felt Gaston shaking against him. Then he burst into a vibrant laughter that broke the stillness of the dark town around them.

“So you got me there, Lefou!” he said in between laughs.

Lefou pushed him back with an elbow.
“You utter! How!” his mind couldn’t even conjure some sensible sentence so much he was taken aback.

Really, this day has been neverending and the night just kept on becoming weirder and weirder. What Gaston was playing at tonight?!

“Why did you do that! You’re not actually drunk!”

Gaston stood against the starlight in all of his perfect glory. He passed a hand through his black hair and straightened his jacket. He crossed his arms and cocked his head.

“Well my dear, I thought you knew better. You know I hold my liquor better than anyone else.”

Lefou just stared at him dumbfounded.

After all their years together he didn’t get used to Gaston’s powerful stance and handsome appearance yet.
It’s like he’s some sort of potent magnet that inevitably attracts every single look on himself. He’s like a bright star at the center of chaos, a vengeful star of fire that captures every creature within his orbit. So women threw their dignity away in favor of throwing themselves at him instead; and men looked up to him like he was a gift from the gods.

For Lefou, Gaston was all that and so much more. People don’t really know Gaston like he does. For instance, people don’t get to see Gaston laughing with so much mirth in his eyes like he’s doing now.

Despite his growing annoyance and confusion, Lefou did feel lucky to be allowed to experience a side of Gaston that was hidden to everyone else. For the sake of appearances and self-love though, he glared at the taller man.

Gaston lift graciously an eyebrow and smirked at him, showing brilliant white teeth.

“Did you maybe wanted to see how long it’d take for me to end up flat on the ground crushed under your –how did you put it? your barge-like weight?”

Gaston barked another heartfelt laugh at that and Lefou found himself smiling.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the extra warmth though” he said, putting his arm around the shorter man and pulling him against him.

Lefou’s cheeks turned an intense shade of crimson. Gaston just gave voice to his previous thoughts without even knowing it.
He was in a teasing mood, just another one of their good-natured banters, the easy camaraderie between the two of them.

Only that tonight it seemed the man couldn’t keep his hands off him.
Gaston has always been a very physical man. He liked to assert his presence through his fiery countenance and show off his large body looming over the unfortunate soul who happened to cross him. Without mentioning his exploits with women.

Lefou’s heart beat so loudly against his chest that he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts. Gaston started walking down the road, forcing Lefou’s legs to function properly. He tentatively slid his arm on Gaston’s back while the man tugged him closer still.

Lefou sighed.

He was walking on sunshine.

Still, confusion won the battle within himself.

“Gaston what are you doing? I mean, why pretend to be drunk?” He didn’t understand.

Gaston stared at him, a sparkle in his eyes.

“Just testing a theory of mine.”


***

( Part 1)

anonymous asked:

I’m torn! I liked the episode but I also feel really anxious about it. Why Oliver doesn't trust her anymore? He admitted that he and Diggle had let her fall deeper and that maybe she didn't feel like she belonged this season and yet he doesn't back her play. Help me understand this please because I don't want to think like this about him. I wanted to enjoy episode 20 but this is upsetting.

Don’t come to tumblr/twitter much because of my job but I love Arrow, though I’ve only been watching it for a year. There are some I’ve been following that were really vocal about 5.19: they’ve basically been saying Oliver isn’t good enough for Felicity now and are angry at him for not trusting/backing her like she has him. Is it them who don’t understand or me? I thought it showed Oliver afraid. No mistrusting. And Felicity asking for equality. I saw a reply you gave once but I don’t know anyone who does them like that.

I wasn’t going to answer these initially because I feel they’ve been answered so fully by the names just below this but… I HAVE AN ABUNDANCE OF OLICITY FEELS THAT CANNOT BE DENIED.

I needed to vent them! Overuse of gifs ahoy!

OK, first? Q2 Anon: I can give you the names of a few people who answer questions FAR better than I ever could if you’d like?

There’s @jbuffyangel (who did her usual amazing review of the episode which should answer all of your questions/worries) @callistawolf and @louiseblue1

There are others that I’m sure you’ll find if you explore a bit ;)

There isn’t really much I can say past what hasn’t already been said by the 3 above.

But I need to clarify (even though you can’t answer) something Anon 1. You liked the episode?

JUST liked?

Well I just about had a mini coronary. Honey, I don’t think you were seeing it properly. Episode 19 was like a piece fanfiction come to life. It was an episode to grin hard about and watch whilst gripping the edge of your seat. Something to feel deep in your chest the next day.

Everything in it – EVERY SINGLE SCENE – was a moment I’ve been waiting on pins to see.

And I mean, purely from the point of view of a fan: how could you not adore the return of the looks and the talking:

Originally posted by legends-of-today

Originally posted by andjustforthismoment

True, I DO think they made us wait a tad too long (kill me now – @scu11y22 knows especially, after episode 9 how close I came to having a full on shit-fit – but just a shit-fit, not a loss of hope) for this but I also believe that they wanted the whole Prometheus Vs Oliver = Oliver’s lowest moment score to occur prior to any progression that could be made between Oliver and Felicity…

It’s because they want them - their steps back to each other - to be part and parcel with Prometheus’s defeat.

And Prometheus is representative of Oliver’s demons. Of his darkness and his pain. 

Originally posted by mogirl97

Something he can no longer run from like he has been doing for years. What he needs to face and defeat, to strive beyond.

It’s all so that the penultimate moment, episode 20, can mean so much more and have triple the affect it would have had without this.

Oliver can’t defeat Prometheus with his current mind-set. He can’t even stand against him: Prometheus has broken a vital piece of Oliver’s soul: his hope.

Think about it: Olicity closing the gap between them - healing that breach - each and reuniting possibly leading to the defeat of Prometheus. And what’s necessary for the defeat of Prometheus? For Oliver to step forwards into a light of his own making. A mission of his own choosing.

How much more epic can you get?

But you (Anon 1) (Anon 2, you’re fine girl/boy;)) were referring more to the deceptive lack of trust in this episode, correct?

That supposed absence of trust, the very thing that put a pause on this whole relationship? It’s an Oliver Queen smokescreen. Possibly subconscious on his part, at least initially. A not-so-flimsy cover up for Oliver’s real problem. A problem they’re going to bring about, in GREAT and uncompromising detail, in episode 20.

But let’s get into specifics.

It’s what we’ve been waiting for. And all of it, everything, was good. Everything coming will be better.

I think a problem a lot of people might also be having at the moment is the sudden rise of emotional intensity in the show.

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

Yes, I know: random. But.

Arrow has always been intense but it increases with each season: the actors are pushed into doing scenes and playing roles they’ve never done before, into bending rules and breaking past boundaries. Season 5 has been exemplary in this. But there’s been an upswing from episode 16, especially in regards to OTA and Olicity, that wasn’t as present earlier on. It’s been very welcome, but also, a bit of a shock.

They’ve had to wait you see: there’s been too much story to tell first. We got a lot of Olicity before anything else in season 4 so they needed to be true to their other stories first but you all know the other reasons as well. Lord know’s I’ve gone on about them too.

So now, everything feels powerful. Penetrating. Worrying? The script was so forceful in Dangerous Liasons, so intense: every scene featuring Oliver and Felicity was a scene that left a mark on the audience. People are feeling the heat - the kind of heat exhibited in 3.20 - and it’s such a burn that it people might consider it an omen.

Don’t feel anxious about it: not at all. It’s about facing the truth. About Oliver and Felicity facing each other. About facing themselves…

And they found themselves in each other once upon a time.

Originally posted by curvygeekyfangirl

That still holds true. There was no way in hell that they were going to get to the root of each of their issues without them coming back to each other.

Oliver.

There’s no one he trusts, respects and admires more than Felicity Smoak.

But being honest with her - telling her about his 5.17 revelation (something he had to understand himself first) about his reasoning behind why he’s done what he’s done over the years - is something he thinks will make her fall out of love with him.

But it also might save her from becoming him.

This has absolutely nothing to do with trust.

For the first time, Felicity is the one he and Dig have to worry about… and like big tough Alpha males, it throws them completely out of whack.

Originally posted by emilybuttrickards

It’s not about a lack of trust or a deliberate choice not to be there for her when she has been there for him every single time he needed someone.

He can’t possibly be ok with her behaving like him because she’s more. She’s better. She’s the example he measures all other acts of goodness and evil against. No other woman (or man) has come close.

Originally posted by songbin

Originally posted by meafterdeath

Originally posted by bicanaries

Originally posted by supercanaries

Originally posted by dcvertigodaily

Originally posted by heckyeahsummerglaugifs

Originally posted by valkylicious

Originally posted by dmichellewrites

And that’s just some of the examples and only the women.

But there’s been a lack of understanding between these two for the past year (A year… Christ, it’s been more than a year) and they need to hack it out but they wouldn’t be able to without a stimulus.

Originally posted by felicityssoliver

Originally posted by beemichelle7

Boom baby!

Now, Felicity TELLING Oliver that he doesn’t trust her was soooooo deeply satisfying, not because I agree with her. I don’t. She’s wrong. But I only know that because I’m the observer.

I loved it because she was finally being honest about how he’s made her feel. And how he’s made her feel isn’t just like she isn’t trusted:

Originally posted by andjustforthismoment

It’s lonely. Alone.

Originally posted by felicitysmoakq

She’s felt like she can’t go to him and ask for the assistance she needed, the help she wanted. The kind of love she deserves. Honestly, I’m pretty sure she didn’t want his help either. Not at this stage. She wanted to rely on herself. To decide for herself. To make the choices he and Dig have always made for her. To be their equal.

What she wanted was for him to say:

“I don’t like it. I don’t want you to do it. You’re asking me to stand back and watch you sell yourself because of a problem I caused. I don’t want it. It’ll hurt too much… but I’m going to. I’m going to because I trust you. You already know I love you. And now I’m going to prove what that actually means to me. I’m going to place all my trust in you because I believe. In. You.

Always.”

Wonderful, right?

But this is from the point of view of a woman who doesn’t fully understand Oliver Queen, through no fault of her own. She’s the closest any woman has ever come to truly knowing him: she DOES know him the best of everyone, even Thea…

And that is something he - subconsciously - can’t allow. He can’t have Felicity - the person he loves the most - close to his darkest demon. Can’t have her touched.

If she’d been ready at the time of their break up, maybe she would have seen something else and NOT a man who simply doesn’t trust her the way she craves to be trusted, the way she’d trusted him and still does trust him. Even after everything.

But she couldn’t help missing that because Oliver is emotionally stunted and very unaware of how his father’s promise and his survivor’s guilt have deepened that chasm inside him.

Oliver is also a man of his word.

Originally posted by andjustforthismoment

“We can protect her.”

He made a promise to himself and Dig and he was vehement in that promise.

It was a declaration of intent: I want her in this but not at the cost of what makes her… her.

Do you think that ever goes away for someone like Oliver? And do you think he ever forgets about that promise? No. It just grows stronger. It was crucial to him; especially right at the beginning of it all.

And for Felicity Smoak it is an absolute - a requisite - STRONGER than his need to protect Thea.

He grew to accept at the end of season 3 - after choosing for her for most of the season - that Thea’s life was her own, that her actions were her own, her body was her own to throw it onto fire if she wanted to.

He’d hate it… but he’d get it.

He can’t do that with Felicity because she’s his cornerstone.

Originally posted by oliverqueennn

Originally posted by nugetae

Originally posted by bazingagubicorn

Originally posted by andjustforthismoment

Originally posted by andjustforthismoment

Even after they broke up, even months later with this distance between them, she’s still the person who balances his world, who gives him structure.

Originally posted by lucyyh

When she first joined the team, she enabled his night work in a way he didn’t think possible and she was as safe as he could make her. Behind her computers. In HIS Foundry. Perfect.

Originally posted by yet-i-remain-quiet

She was where he could keep an eye on her and control how deep into the life she was. In fact she only ever touched close to danger when she was in the field, which was few and far between for this exact reason.

Originally posted by andjustforthismoment

Even when she opted – even when it was her choice – Oliver (and by extension Dig) only agreed when they could control the danger level.

Originally posted by andjustforthismoment

But even then, things can still go wrong.

Originally posted by fponthedl

The problem is that Felicity has always been just as ‘in deep’ as the boys.

But she’s their precious gem: their lucky charm. Their lighthouse, their way home. The heart of the team.

Originally posted by andjustforthismoment

Originally posted by songbin

What happens when a lighthouse goes dark?

Originally posted by sporkageddon

The way home – your eyes – vanishes.

You loose sight of reality.

It was taken for granted, Felicity’s natural light. Her faith. He thought if he left it alone, it was stay exactly as it was…

Originally posted by gothsmoak

The light on Oliver’s path – as pitiful and as small, as narrow and filled with thorns and without forks and choices as that way has become – was, in his head, taken fully away in episode 19. He was left asunder and confused.

Originally posted by olicity-i-believe-in-you

Adrift. Lost at sea…. he’s already lost at sea.

Originally posted by feilcityqueen

He was lost at sea for years until he chose to stay away from Starling (I prefer the name Starling City to Star City btw).

After his return, she became his anchor. Slowly.

Originally posted by bratvaolicity

Overtime.

Originally posted by nugetae

Moment by moment.

Originally posted by thecwarrow

Until she became irreplaceable.

And he didn’t realise just how deep that went… until he broke her heart. Until she left him. Alone.

Originally posted by andjustforthismoment

They’re as alone as each other. Even when they’re with others. Even in a crowd. Even as they reached out to others, romantically or otherwise and it didn’t heal them.

Case in point: look at where they are right now. He thinks he’s a sociopathic serial killer and she’s willing to destroy her life to bring down the man who made him feel that way.

She is doing for Oliver what Oliver did for Thea in season 3.

All she’s asking is for him to let her.

But he can’t.

He promised Dig he’d protect her. Just her. 

Not Laurel or Thea or Sara or anyone else, not even Dig… Felicity was the one whom he’d never have twisted. The one neither of them could or would sacrifice. IRREPLACEABLE.

Most importantly, he can’t have her become him. He’s been protecting her from that since day 1: he can’t fathom its possibility.

Oliver has paid a lot of prices, sacrificed so much of himself. And he’s lost things and people.

Her soul is the one price too high to pay.

Yet Oliver feels like everything he has touched, every person who’s into contact with him, has suffered because of him.

And now? …He feels what’s she doing with helix, how she’s behaving is because of him. A darkness that never comes out created by him. To Oliver, he has created this path of a deepening darkness for the woman he loves. Now he has to put up with what she’s been putting up with for years. And he doesn’t like it.

Drink it is:

Like a husband who’s argued with his wife, had his words royally and correctly thrown back at him and in the dog house. Big time!

What Oliver doesn’t realise is that light can alter over time. It can grow warmer or more distinct. Stronger. Can shift and shine a new way. A better way. A softer way. Some lights can draw weaker ones out and strengthen them.

Has anyone noticed the increased use of both purple and green this year on Arrow? Oliver’s and Felicity’s colours. 

Not a coincidence.

Originally posted by whoeveryoulovethemost

When he sees her for who she really is, when he finds out how her view of him – in walking in his shoes – has changed, has grown, when he discovers that his confession doesn’t have the affect on her he thought it would, when she actually gives him a new and brighter understanding of herself… he’ll see her light for what it is. For the beauty in it. And he’ll love her all the more for it.

I think he’s going to tell her – when their air is ruining out, whilst he’s hurt and she’s defenceless – his painful truth and he’ll be waiting for the worse case scenario reaction from her.

And… I feel like he’s going to be given the shock of his life. Or something to that affect. (Am I just desperate?)

Whatever happens, it’ll make him view her as an equal in every sense of the term – he thought he already did, but there was still that last layer of bubble wrap for him/her to pop.

And in walking in her shoes – in trying to move on, in watching her make the hard choices and being powerless to stop her, in being on the other side of the fence and being the one who doesn’t get listened to – his understanding and already super high regard for her will shoot past the stratosphere.

Like Wendy said:

“She’s been through something now, and she sees him in a different light — and he also sees her in a different light. There’s a lot more mutual understanding, and even though I think it’s hard to top the mutual respect they already have for each other, that goes up as well.”

Won’t be surprised if they leave the bunker shooting each other awed, heart-eyed looks and thinking ‘wow’.

Remember the song?

I am so sorry that I bothered you
Now I know why you have to hide
I didn’t know what you were going through
All I could see was my own sign

I will just fade away
I will let you be here
I won’t say a word until you come to me
Until you come to me
Until you come to me

They just tell me what you’re in there for
How could I know you did not say?
But now I know what I am living for
Tomorrow will be just another day

I will close my eyes
And I hear a quiet peep
I will wait in the shadows until you come to me
Until you come to me
Until you come to me, oh

Ah, sweet youth will all too quickly end
And we will never be this free
So all I ask is that we look again
Before we grow too old to see

I will fall alone
My elm was sweet and envy
Still I will be crying until you come to me
Until you come to me
Until you come to me, ah

Understanding. Readiness. Love. Trust. Heart.

I’ll be waiting for you. Until you come to me.

It’s a mutual thing (though I do think this refers to Felicity more than Oliver).

And then it’ll be almost as easy as falling, his new ideal. I think she’ll give him a new point of view. Or, at the very least, a way to see it differently.

Very soon they’ll be ready for each other. The right fit.

A hero for a hero.

Originally posted by klarolicityswan

She has to open the door but he needs to make her want to first. Strip each other down to the core.

And, come 5.22 (?) he needs step on through it all on his own.

They’re going to fall in sync.

And by 5.23 we’re finally going to breathe that breath of sweet relief.

Originally posted by 6pinky-winky

|| Easier ||

[inspiration || @kirbyshay11: “It’s nice to be told you’re beautiful or hot or whatever, but I’d love to hear some say that I make things easier, that they’re happy that I exist, they don’t know what they’d do without me, I’m strong, that they hope we never lose each other, that they’re proud of me, that I have something to offer. Compliments don’t always have to be about appearance.”]

{post source: https://kirbyshay11.tumblr.com/post/137982171348/its-nice-to-be-told-youre-beautiful-or-hot-or}

here’s something sweet for draco, because despite his checkered past and flawed character, i still love him enough to give him at least a semblance of a happy ending with this au-ish type story.

warnings: none

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. reblogs are fine**

——-

Draco knew that his life would never be easy again when he resumed his seventh and final year at Hogwarts after the events that transpired during the Battle of Hogwarts.

The young wizard was actually surprised that he was allowed to attend at all. If it wasn’t for his status as a pureblood coupled along with the power of absolute authority that was known with his surname, Draco was sure that he wouldn’t have been allowed to return.

His parents were too proud to simply let Draco drop out of Hogwarts, choosing instead to completely ignore their actions last year. With the Dark Lord gone, admittedly, there was a peace that settled across the famous wizarding school. Everyone knew that their futures were no longer uncertain and riddled with the constant threat of Voldemort looming over them.

Keep reading

The Commander’s Order

Nesta has made a reputation in the Illyrian camp. Her cutting words and fists have brought forth both respect and loathing from the soldiers. But she is about to meet the one opponent who is to be her match.

Lines of Love and War : Chapter 2

A gust of wind beating against the small tent roused Nesta from slumber. She grit her chattering teeth and tugged the threadbare blanket tighter around her shoulders. Outside the wind continued its onslaught against her small tent. Nesta wouldn’t be surprised if a strong draft carried herself and meager tent over the cliff.

“Why the hell would anyone live on this forsaken mountain,” Nesta grumbled wishing sleep would return.

A male laughed in the distance, but it sounded more like a braying donkey. Nesta groaned and rolled her eyes at the sound.

Right. Illyrians were the insane fools who decided to train, eat and sleep on these wretched cold mountains. And now she was stuck to join their ranks in the war against Hybern.

Slowly Nesta sat up from her bed pallet and moved the blanket from her body. She swiftly changed clothes in the enclosed space. A difficult task, but she knew it was better than seeking other shelter in case any of the males decided to follow her for a peek. The Illyrian females had warned her how the majority of the males treated them. Females were seen as weak, compliant breeding tools and nothing more.

Nesta noticed the leering gazes herself when she would walk through camp. At first she assumed it was because she was a new war recruit, but their stares were hungry. And Nesta did not take lightly to being considered a piece of meat that others wanted to taste.

She made a reputation for herself the first week at camp. Nesta imagined she must have lashed out toward half of the camp’s males with her viper tongue. The insults and fast remarks flew from her mouth just as often as Illyrians flied across the sky with their wings. Which was almost every moment.

And if words didn’t work then her fists did. The look of surprise on all the hardened Illyrian warriors’ faces was priceless when Nesta, a girl from the human side of the wall, broke the nose of a soldier who had tried to grope her.

That was the day she had gained a fragment of respect from a few Illyrians since they could see she would retaliate any unwanted attention. But she also received more taunts from those who couldn’t control themselves.

Each new dawn meant a new challenge. Most of the males still didn’t respect her. She doubted that they ever would considering the centuries of tradition they grew up on made them believe that females were to be used at their convenience. Still that didn’t mean Nesta was giving up.

She stepped out of her tent and began stretching her tight muscles. A yawn broke free from her lips and her empty stomach growled. At least Nesta could easily dismiss the hunger considering that most of her life consisted of meager meals that never completely sated her appetite.

A dark shadow drifted beside her tent.

“Do you plan on playing nice today or are you going to get into another squabble?” The Suriel asked. Its form cloaked in magic causing it to be unseen by any passerby.

“When these beasts learn some damn manners then perhaps I won’t need to give them a rude awakening with my fists.”

The Suriel chuckled. Or at least it sounded like it, but the rasp made it unclear to Nesta.

“I wouldn’t expect any less from the eldest Acheron,” the Suriel said. “You are adept at verbal sparring and have potential to hone your physical skills, but today you will be tested.”

“Isn’t everyday a test of sorts?” Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Each day my patience is tested with these Illyrians. And why is it that there are no humans here? How come I appear to be the only one summoned to this army?”

“Because it takes a specific soul to withstand the conditions this mountain presents. A number of Illyrians who are born and raised here do not always survive to adulthood,” the Suriel replied. “And humans have a far greater difficulty as it is with their weaker bodies.”

“Then why was I sent here?” Nesta asked in confusion.

The Suriel smiled. Its yellowed teeth revealed. “That is a question for another time.”

Nesta released a frustrated breath. A drum beat in the distance signaled that all soldiers were to report at the center of camp.

Nesta followed the drumbeat along with the other soldiers who were making their way out of their tents. She didn’t glance back knowing full well that the Suriel had already vanished.

When she arrived at the camp’s center the majority of soldiers were already lingering around. Females talked amongst each other while the males did the same. An obvious segregation between the two had been made.

Nesta made her way to a few females she was familiar with, but an Illyrian male blocked her path. He was almost her height if only a bit taller. He was flanked by two other Illyrian warriors. They each wore one siphon of varying colors on the back of their hands. A sign that these warriors were powerful enough that the stones were needed to regulate their energy.

“And what are you doing here?” Devlon asked. His tone clearly demeaning.

Nesta arched a brow. Leave it to Devlon to already find her. He was one of those males that sought to bring her down constantly, because she refused to cower at his words.

“Unless I’m mistake the drums mean that all soldiers are to report,” Nesta replied evenly.

“Yes. Soldiers,” Devlon looked Nesta up and down. “You are no soldier. Why don’t you go clean laundry as a good female should?”

“Why? Were you so frightened to see me approaching that you soiled your clothes?” Nesta sniffed the air. “That must be why your stench is worse than usual.”

Fury filled Devlon’s eyes and his hand reached for on of his many weapons.

“I will not stand for such insults by a weakling,” Devlon snarled. “Perhaps a lesson is required before the Commander arrives.”

Commander? Nesta hadn’t seen the Commander of the Illyrian armies since her arrival. Then again she had heard that is time was occupied by strategizing with the High Lord of the Night Court back in the city of Velaris.

“Teach her where her place is!” A male Illyrian from the crowd said.

Murmurs rose up and suddenly Nesta found herself pitted against Devlon.

She barely had time to react before he charged her. His wings flared out and Nesta ducked to avoid being clipped by the appendages.

There was no way she could stand a full-blown fight again Devlon. He had years of combat training compared to Nesta’s meager month. Even with her demi-fae powers it would be a challenge unless she completely unleashed what she kept caged inside. But that would mean destruction she was not ready to face. Her powers frightened her more than any adversary that approached her in this camp.

She dodged and moved to avoid most of the hits Devlon threw at her. Nesta didn’t look back to see that his punches usually struck someone in the crowd resulting in a chain reaction that brought forth an all out brawl among the Illyrians nearby.

Nesta ended up avoiding stray swings of other males instead of Devlon’s. A smack across the face from Devlon set her in a furious rage.

Instinctively her powers seeped in her veins. Responding to a call Nesta did not voluntarily ask for.

Lightening crackled at her fingertips. Devlon realized too late the ability Nesta harbored secretly. Her hand caught his wrist before throwing him in a blinding flash that sent him falling – no flying – backwards into a group of unsuspecting Illyrians who also fell to the ground in a stunned heap.

“SOLDIERS!” A deep voice boomed across the camp.

Immediately the fighting came to a halt. All faces turned to where two Illyrian males stood. The duo radiated power unlike anything Nesta had encountered among other Illyrians. One that resembled shadows and mystery while the other blazed with power that crackled like fire.

A slight tug pulled her attention to one of them in particular. It was as if she felt drawn to him. An absurd idea considering she had no idea who he was.

And yet I feel as if I’ve known him for so long.

Keep reading

Across the Divide

TITLE: Across The Divide

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Eight

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki sneaking out of the palace as a youth to see the city and countryside, while out one day, he accidentally gets in trouble for something, but a young girl deals with the situation, allowing him to be left alone and his true identity be kept secret. She is a poor girl who is only in the city to sell goods with her father, so she does not realise it is Loki, even though she sees his face. They form a friendship as she shows him around the city, and tells him the date she comes to the city every month for a particular market.

RATING: Teen and Up

Loki rationalised to himself that something could have arisen, Ariella could have been ill, her father could have been ill, there could have been issues that required them elsewhere that day, anything. It was not as though she could write to him or send a message for him, so if she was in no way able to get there, it was not as though there was a manner to tell him so. That was all that got him through the month to the next market. When it came around, he rushed through the streets almost frantically to their usual spot, he waited again, and once more, she did not arrive. A weight sank in his stomach, heavier and heavier it got every time he thought of the commoner girl, which was incessantly. His mood darkened as he walked around the palace after the second trip to the market without her showing. He began to pay less heed to his studies, he pulled back from training, and his family realised something was amiss with him. Frigga tried at length to get it out of him what irked him so, and after a period, Thor too began. When nothing they did bore any results, even Odin got involved, but none could figure out what had upset Loki so.

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A Olicity Historical AU: Touch can be so much more than just, touch.

A/N: Hello my friends, I’ve really enjoyed the special connection and friendship that has grown between Oliver and Felicity in this universe.  We are sadly nearing the close of this particular journey with them as next week’s chapter will be the last.  Let’s hope Lord Archer will be able to make some life altering choices.  

Thank you to the wonderful @quiveringbunny for making this amazing cover art for my story.  It is so beautiful.  

You can read previous chapters HERE and AO3.

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Chapter 5

The untamable breeze that swept up the hill, carrying with it the taste of salt and dampness, stroked across Oliver’s body as he rested on a picnic blanket with Lady Felicity.   William was escorting Katherine and Oliver’s mother through the estate’s gardens after a breakfast that had been full of easy conversation and a surprising enjoyment of honey by all.  

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Jon Imagine...

Imagine Jon Snow being different after resurrection and being a free folk who had always loved him even when he was with Ygritte.

((Sucky summary. Sorry! I hope you all like this! It sort of came out of nowhere haha))

Word Count: 1,957

Warning: None that I know of.

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dachi-chan25  asked:

Did you ask for more quotes/prompts? *pulls my notebook full of them and searches* here's another one: “Fall for someone with an air of mystey and wildness un their bones but with the kindest eyes and a thousand beautiful stories woven into their soul"– Nikita Gill

Yes Dachi, I love you! Seriously all of these quotes are so perfect and they give me such good ideas. Also I feel like this quote can fit for either Jughead or Betty (Especially after that last episode, whew) But I decided to write it for Jughead because most of my fics have been from his perspective and I wanted to switch it up.


If Betty’s mom didn’t like her hanging out with Betty and Archie, then she hated the idea of her hanging out with Jughead Jones. And as usual, her mother didn’t hesitate to tell Betty exactly how she felt.

“I noticed that you’ve been spending a lot of time with that Jones boy…I don’t like the look of him Betty.” Alice said as she ran her fingers through Betty’s hair, playing the part of concerned mother while really just trying to control her. Luckily, Betty was learning to see through her mother’s fake concern. So she stuck her chin out stubbornly and defended Jughead.

“He is helping me with the Blue and Gold mother, and he’s been amazing. He has such a dedication to finding the truth and he is really good at finding answers.”

“Oh, I bet he is.” Was Alice’s only response.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Betty turned to look her mother in the eye.

“That boy is a wildcard. He keeps to himself more than is normal and he has a dark streak, I can sense it.” Betty sighed at her mom’s words. She was used to people misjudging Jughead, she had been defending him since they were little, but she hated that this time it was coming from her own mother.

“Mom, no offence, but you have no idea what you are talking about. I have known Juggie for most of my life and you have never once made an effort to get to know him. He likes to be mysterious, that’s for sure, but behind that he is kind and sweet and he is one of my best friends.” Betty didn’t mention that their friendship had recently blossomed into something knew, she knew that would put her mother over the edge and she didn’t feel like getting into a full blown fight at the moment.

“Betty, once again you are too trusting, too quick to see the good in people. But sometimes the good in people is outweighed by the bad, and I’m afraid that’s the case with this boy.” Betty noticed that her mom never called Jughead by his name, it was almost as if she were offended by the mere idea of someone being named Jughead.

“I can take care of myself mom” Betty said with a sigh, knowing that it was no use to argue. If Betty saw the good in people, then her mother saw the bad. Betty would never be able to convince her mom of the sweet boy that Jughead really was.

“I’m just trying to keep you from getting hurt.” Alice stroked Betty’s cheek. Betty bit her lip to keep from shouting.

“Mom, you can’t protect me from everything. Jughead is my friend, and he is not going to hurt me.” Betty said in the sternest voice she could manage. Her mother seemed unsatisfied and displeased with this response, but she finally dropped the subject.


“As adorable as that little scowl is, I don’t like the fact that it means that something is bothering you.” Jughead said the next day, reaching up his hand to smooth the wrinkles in between her brows.

“Juggie, does it ever bother you that people in this town are always misjudging you?” Jughead dropped his hands and looked at her questioningly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean people think you are this dark, mysterious, wild person. It doesn’t ever seem to bother you, what people think or say. Why do you only let Archie and me see the real you?”

“And what is the real me?” Jughead quirked his eyebrows at her, he rested his hands on Betty’s waist and pulled her closer to him.

“Someone who cares. Someone who will go to the ends of the earth to find truth and justice. Someone who will let me complain about my life and my mother for hours on end. Someone who will sneak into my room and bring me freshly baked cookies when I’ve had a bad day. Why don’t you let everyone see that side of you?” Betty wasn’t surprised when Jughead shrugged, batting away her compliments with his hand.

“Because I don’t care what everyone thinks of me.” Jughead looked at her intensely. His voice was indifferent, but his green eyes shone with vulnerability as he asked his next question, “do you?” Betty stared transfixed at his eyes, they were the first thing that she had fallen in love with about him. He may be sarcastic and belligerent, but his eyes always told his true feelings. They were kind eyes and when he looked at her like that, so intensely, she found it hard to breath.

“No” Betty shook her head firmly, “I know the really you, that’s all that matters.”

“Exactly” Jughead said with a grin. If his eyes had been the first thing she had fallen for, his smile was the second. His full force smile was as blinding as sunlight. It was a rarity that he usually reserved for Betty and Archie, and in some ways that made it all the more special. Every time Betty could coax a smile like that out of him was like her own personal victory.


“So, we hear that you are dating Jughead Jones” Betty looked up in surprise when two of her fellow cheerleaders walked over to where she was stretching. Betty glanced up to where Jughead was sitting in the top corner of the bleachers, completely engrossed in his writing.

“I am” She said with a smile. The two girls sat down and started stretching next to Betty. She looked at them questioningly. These two girls had never spoken to her before today.

“What’s he like?” One of them finally blurted out.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, he’s just this super mysterious guy, who seems like he would have tons of skeletons in his closet.” 

“Yeah, and in a town of this size, where everyone knows everyone’s business, its not often we find something that is a mystery.” The other girl added. Betty almost laughed out loud, these girls were actually coming to her looking for gossip about Jughead. What had her life turned into?

“Oh, he’s got loads of skeletons” Betty whispered confidentially, “but they are his skeletons to keep, besides he would probably kill me if he found out I told.” The two girls smiled and shook their heads.

“You know, a few weeks ago, I may have believed that…but now. I mean the way he looks at you. Good lord what I wouldn’t give to have someone look at me like that” 

“What do you mean?” Betty was confused at the sudden turn the conversation had taken.

“Look” the girl nodded her head to where Jughead was sitting. Betty followed their gaze and found Jughead looking down at them. Even from that distance, Betty could feel the intensity of his eyes locked on hers. Betty waved at him and he winked in response before turning back to his novel.

“See, I mean that kid is seriously whipped, I’m starting to think that the only skeleton in his closet is that he is really a big softie.”

“You might be onto something there” Betty responded, but she was no longer really paying attention to the conversation. She was thinking about what the girls had said. Did Jughead really look at her with that much love in his eyes? If other people were starting to see it, that meant he was slowly letting his walls down.


Jughead was mysterious and Betty didn’t doubt that he could be dangerous if he wanted to. There was a wildness in his bones that no one else in their small town shared. It was what propelled his sarcasm and sardonic humor, it was what gave him his thirst for exposing the truth, and it was what made her mother weary of him.

Jughead was mysterious and wild, there was no denying that. But there was also another side to him. There was a kindness to him that shone out through his eyes. It was there every time he caught her gaze from across the room. A loving, gentleness that was so often lost behind his mysterious mask.

And his soul, he had the most beautiful soul that Betty had ever seen. She first started falling for him because of his eyes and smile, but it was the glimpses of his soul that sent her over the edge.

The wildness inside of him was no match for the genuine kindness of his soul.

The Elf and the Dwarf

Overall Summary: Erebor was reclaimed and the line of Durin had not ended. You were an elf and now that your quest was over, you didn’t know what to do especially since you gained feelings for a certain King Under the Mountain.

Chapter Summary: Gandalf calls for a meeting.

Chapter Categories: Angst, Humor

Strike Through = Current Chapter

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

AN: I don’t know how to write anything but dialogue. Sorry.

You curse as you get yourself lost again. Even though it’s been a month, the vast halls of Erebor are still as confusing as the first day.

“That’s not a very nice word, lass,” you hear a voice say. You already know it’s Bofur.

“Thank valar you’re here. I seem to have lost my way,” you tell him. “That is quite obvious. Follow me princess,” he says, bowing. You punch him in his arm. “Where are we?” you ask as you look around. 

He tells you about Erebor as he gives you a tour and you make sure to remember everything.

“And my tour ends here,” he says stopping in front of the council room. You nod and thank him.

You walk inside and Thorin is sitting at the head of the table with Balin, Dwalin and Fili to his right and Lord Elrond and Lindir on his left. There is a space between Lindir and Elrond which you figure is for you.

“If I had known that there was a meeting I would’ve cut my tour short,” you apologize, taking a seat next to your father.

“Nonsense. If you are to live here it would be better for you to get to know the city instead of getting lost and asking for directions,” Thorin says and you can’t help but take it as an insult. 

Your heart clenches but you ignore it. “How kind,” you say a little sarcastically, “has my father informed you of our meeting with Bard?“ 

“Not yet. I was just about to,” Lord Elrond states. You nod.

“Bard has requested help to rebuild the city. I have informed him that more of your kin will be here soon and that you’d probably help,” you say.

“We are all very busy. We have no people to spare. Maybe later when everyone is settled, but the choice will be up to them not me,” Thorin explains.

“Is that why you came from Dale?” Fili asks.

“Yes. Last night, I was approached by Legolas while on watch. He relayed the message that his father wanted to see me, but in reality it was Bard it was him that wanted to me,” you explain.

“Then why send the elf?” Thorin asks.

“Because he knew it would bother you,” you reply.

“Petty is he,” Thorin mutters, but you hear him and smile.

“Is that all that they have discussed?” Balin asks.

“I am uncertain. I may or may not have lost control of my anger and basically called him heartless,” you reply.

Dwalin smirks muttering, “that’s my girl.” Thorin can’t help but let a little smile cross his face.

“And what prompted this exactly?” Balin asks, not exactly pleased with his brother and king at the moment.

“King Thranduil told me that Thorin would be selfish and not give help. I told him that he was wrong based on the fact that I had returned the jewels he went to war for. He asked me why I defended you and what I had to gain which led to me saying that I had learned how to love and be loved and that that is what he needs to learn as well,” you say, not exactly meeting their eyes.

You felt ashamed at your outburst now that you think of it. It is not becoming of a princess of Rivendell to speak so freely. While willowing in self-pity, you fail to notice the smile that has not only graced the dwarves’ faces, but your father’s and Lindir’s.

You all turn toward the door as it swings open and lets in Gandalf.

“I must apologize for being late. I had other business to take care of,” he states, taking a seat next to Lindir.

“Why have you gathered us, Gandalf?” Thorin asks.

“We are not all here,” is his reply.

“Well who are we waiting for?” Thorin asks and the door opens to reveal Bard and Thranduil. You turn away quickly, looking at the table.

“It seems that you clean up nicely,” Thranduil comments as he takes the seat next to Bard who is sitting next to Fili.

You glare at him.

“I see that I have yet to knock you off of your high horse, your majesty,” You reply sarcastically.

“You wouldn’t be able to reach it if you tried,” he responds.

“You’ve sunk low enough for me to do so,” you retort.

“Are you quite done?” Gandalf asks.

You sit straighter.

“Wonderful. Over these past few months of our journey, I and Rhadaghast the Brow have noticed that there is something dark looming over these lands. Which is why Greenwood is now reffered to as Mirkwood. I do not know what lingers, but I do know that this darkness does exist,” Gandalf exclaims.

Thranduil and Elrond looks at the wizard

“You are not suggesting that he has returned,” Thranduil states.

“That I am. Not completely, but he still lingers. I have seen him at Dol Goldur,” Gandalf replies.

“Its been 2000 years, how has he not been destroyed?” you ask.

“The One Ring that Islidur had failed to destroy all those years ago. It contains a piece of Sauron’s soul and while the ring is still in existence, so is Sauron,” Lord Elrond explains to those gathered around.

“And where is the ring?” Thorin asks.

“It was lost many, many years ago,” Gandalf adds.

“Are you suggesting that we search for this ring that we do not know the location of?” Thorin asks.

“No. It is a fools quest. I have come to warn you about the darkness. There will be many trying to overtake Erebor and Dale, but you must prevail. I also came to tell you that these childish antics will bring nothing, but destruction,” Gandalf replies.

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Thorin denies.

Your gaze moves over to Thranduil and he doesn’t look too happy at being called childish.

Gandalf lets out a loud sigh and you smile a bit. Gandalf is so done with both Kings.

“If these great kingdoms are to prosper like they did before Smaug attacked, then you will all have to get along. Bard seems to be the only level headed King out of all of you,” You explain making Thranduil and Thorin’s head snap to you.

It’s true. Bard is like the mediator of sorts between the two races. He shouldn’t be because he needs to focus on his people, but Thorin and Thranduil will not speak unless you or Bard are in the same room.

“Are you calling me crazy?” Thorin asks, appalled.

“I’m calling you petty. You cannot get over something that happened over 171 years ago. It is time to forgive, Thorin. That is the only way to be at peace,” you state.

“Of course you would defend your kin,” he mutters.

You stand angrily. 

“Do not give me that, Thorin son of Thrain. I have always chosen this company over my kin,” you state.

“Really? Because the way I see it, your loyalty still lies with the elves and that is not good for my people.”

“I had a chance to return home, yet I did not because I wanted to help you. I had a chance of giving away your quest to the elves of Mirkwood, but I did not do so because you are more important to me then one of the Kings of my kin. I would choose you over my kin, but you would never do the same for me. I should have never came on this quest. Dwalin, Fili, I am terribly sorry, but I am no longer able to stay. Father, I will be going back to Dale. I’m assuming that you are staying there as well. Bard, if that is alright with you, I would like to stay there as well,” you say looking at the man.

Bard nods saying, “There are guards standing at the front gate. The one on the right, his name is Ingmar. He is a young lad with blonde hair and blue eyes and he will be expecting you.”

You are taken aback. He’s been expecting a falling out between you and Thorin. It’s then that you know that you and Thorin were never meant to be.

You nod and turn back to Thorin.

“King Thorin, thank you for your hospitality and the adventure filled 7 months that I have experienced. Long may you reign,” you say, bowing.

“ Galaeron, Haemir. Please follow me. I have a few things to pack up,” you tell two of your fathers guards.

You know that borrowing two will not be bad given the fact that there are four guards for your father, two for Thranduil and two for Bard. You can say that he is going to be just fine.

The two elves follow you to your room.

You put all of your clothes into the trunk located under the bed. Whatever belongings you have scattered across the room, you stick in there too. You stop as you see all of the drawings that ori has given you. You smile as you see one with Fili Kili and you sleeping one on another. You’re sleeping on Fili’s stomach and Kili is sleeping on yours. You put it away to keep your tears at bay and close the trunk, telling the guards to take it to your fathers quarters in Dale.

You sit on the bed, contemplating on whether or not to say goodbye to the dwarves. On one hand you should because they’re like your family but on the other hand you’re only 30 minutes away.

You leave swiftly, walking through the halls that no one would expect you to be in. You make your way to the entrance of Erebor, not getting caught by any dwarf, at least until you walk out of the gate. You ignore your name being called and continue your trek to Dale.

You stop at the front gate and look at the guard on the right.

“Are you Ingmar?” You ask. “That I am. You must be lady y/n,” he states. You nod.

“Let me take you to your room. Caelen, take my place!” he calls out and another guard replaces him.

“How long have you been expecting me?” you ask as you both make your way to the town hall.

“Only since this morning,” he responds. You look at him, confused. He notices your confusion and begins to explain.

“King Bard came to me after Lord Elrond went to Erebor. He said that your emotions were high and to make a room for you in case you came and here you are,” he states.

“Is that all the explanation he gave you?” you asks.

“Yes. Were you expecting something else?” he asks.

“No. Of course not,” you respond. He nods and takes you through the halls of the King.

“You will be staying with the king and his family, as his request. You are welcome to stay for however long you want,” he tells you and you nod as you stop in front of a room.

It’s just as nice as Erebor’s if not nicer. Instead of seeing into the mountain, you can see over the entire city and the mountain too

“Thank you,” you say. He smiles and takes your hand, kissing it. “Its been a pleasure escorting a beautiful lady such as yourself,” he replies and you can’t help, but notice that he has a lovely smile.

“You’re quite a-” but you’re interrupted when you’re almost tackled by three figures.

Ingmar laughs as his King’s children wraps their arms around your waist. 

“Lady y/n! Are you here to stay?” Tilda asks. “Of course, Tilly! In fact, I’m staying right in this room. You know, my hair needs to be rebraided again,” you say smirking. She giggles and pulls you into the room with Bain and Sigrid following behind.

“I will take my leave,” Ingmar tells you. You nod and sit on the bed. Tilda kneels behind you. “One big braid?” She asks. “One big braid,” you respond.

“Are the halls of Erebor as great as everyone says?” Bain asks. 

“Absolutely amazing. Twice the size of dale and it’s all in a Mountain. You cannot believe the beauty of it all.”

"Then why are you here? You seem like you’d miss it an awful lot,” Sigrid asks.

“Because I don’t belong there. Besides I wanted to see my wonderful Bardlings again,” you say. The two girls giggle. 

“Will you teach me how to use that?” Bain asks, pointing at your bow. “Only if your father allows. I cannot teach you to wield weapons without your father’s permission,” you tell him. He nods.

You look at the room around you. Your things are sitting in a corner. The bed is nice and soft and big enough to fit three full grown people. There is also a door that leads to a separate room and you guess that it leads to the bathroom. There is a dresser in front of the foot of the bed with a vanity hanging above it. There is a a desk on one side of the bed and a little table on the other. It’s a very spacious room and you love it.

“Done,” Tilda cries out. “Thanks Tilly,” you say, giving her a hug.

When Kili had been shot with the arrow, you had stayed in Lake Town with the brothers, Oin and Bofur. You told Thorin that you would be more useful staying with then going onto Erebor with them and you were right. Kili had gotten sicker and you it was thanks to you that he was still alive to make it to Erebor. During that time, you had grown very close to his children and you’ve come to love them like your own. , Bard’s house was attacked by orcs. Thankfully, Legolas and Tauriel had both come to help.

Thorin did not looked pleased to have five of his company staying behind, but in your heart you knew that was only because of the dragon sickness. If it was Thorin, he would never leave his nephews behind especially Kili.

You look out the window and you can see an orc pack of at least 80 making it’s way toward the mountain.

“No,” you mutter.

“Children, go back to your rooms, alright? I’ll see you beauties later,” you say, kissing them on their forehead and quickly making it out of the room. 

You run out the way you came and you see Legolas stepping out of a room and you grab his hand, pulling him along. Some of the guards follow us and you let go.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, hurriedly.

“An orc pack of 80 is headed into the mountain. There’s no way they can survive,” you say, pausing to jump on one of the elve’s horses. Legolas follows and we ride off to Erebor. By the time we get there, the dwarves and remaining elves noticed their presence.

You swing your sword, cutting off one head and the battle begins. The pack gets taken down within 20 minutes

As soon as it is over, you jump off my horse and check on your father. 

“Ada, are you alright?” you ask him, cupping his cheek.

“I am fine, dear. I have fought in more wars than you. This is nothing,” he tells you. I nod. You look over at the Company and they can’t seem to look you in the eye. You rake your my eyes over them to check if none of them got injured. You turn back to the horse as you see no injuries.

“I’ll just leave you to it father,” you say, getting on the horse. He nods and you turn your horse, tearing up.

After all that you’ve been through, not a single thanks from any of them. They couldn’t even look you in the eyes. Some friends. 

“Are you alright?” Legolas asks you, drawing the attention of the dwarves. 

“I’m fine,” your wiping your tears away. You tap on your horse and it goes walking back to Dale. Your shoulders slump.

Legolas puts an arm on your shoulder and asks you if you’re alright again. You look at him and shake my head, tears slipping down your face. You fail to notice the fact that the company is still watching you both. 

Legolas nods and you continue your trek back to dale.

“According to Galaeron and Haemir, you have decided to move to Dale. Ido not understand why you’re staying at Dale. You seemed very adamant when telling my father he was heartless,” he tells me. 

You smile.

“Given the fact that you and your father are only here for a while, I will not run into him as often as I would Bard. After returning to Erebor, Thorin and I got into a little spat. Gandald called both your father and Thorin out on their childishness and I added something about forgiving the past deeds. Harsh words had been exchanged and I felt my leave was necessary. I will not do so well there for I’m afraid that I will die of a broken heart,” you tell him.

“I do not understand. Did you choose a mortal life?” he asks you.

“I’ve been trying to ask my father, but he has been ignoring me every time the topic comes up,” you explain.

“It is understandable. It’s a very hard topic to talk about especially if your father loves you a lot and only wants what’s best. Tauriel very is adamant on moving to Dale to be closer to that dwarf of hers,” Legolas growls out.

You let out a laugh.

“You will find someone eventually, Leggy,” you tell him.

He groans.

“I hate that name,” he says.

You laugh again but your smile drops as you smell a foul, moving scent in the air. You turn around to find a single orc creeping up behind Thorin

You notch your arrow and send it flying straight into the orcs head. The company turns around in shock. How the elves or Gandalf didn’t pick it up, you do not know. You notice Thorin nod and you nod back. You turn back around.

WITH THE COMPANY

The Company watches once again as y/n takes her leave. 

“Uncle! Surely you cannot let her leave yet again!” Fili exclaims.

“She has made her choice,” Thorin grumbles. He turns toward Lord Elrond. 

“What I want to know is how your daughter felt an orc behind us and yet you did not?” Thorin asks him highly suspicious.

“I did not act to show you exactly how much my daughter cares for you. It’s obvious when you first entered Rivendell that she cares a lot for you. For all of you. Did you not question why you were given meat ()a/n: lets pretend this happened) when elves only eat vegetables? Did you not question how you were released from Mirkwood? Did you not question how you three miraculously survived mortal injuries? It is because of my daughters love for you. She cares too much for those that do not care for her in return,” Elrond States. 

“And who said we didn’t care lad?” Dwalin asks angrily obviously offended by the comment

“The fact that you all avoided her gaze after she got off her horse told me all that I needed to know,” Lord elrond responds, looking down at the dwarf.

“She chose to leave us,” Kili whispers but Lord Elrond hears it anyway.

“This is the only time she has ever done so. She did not leave you will you were poisoned by that arrow. In fact, she saved you. You take her for granted. Now I will gather my things and make for Dale. You, Thorin Oakenshield, need to think about what she means to. I do not want my daughter to die of a heartbreak over a selfish dwarf,” Lord Elrond says. With that, he, Thranduil, and their guards get their things and head back to Dale.

Thorin grunts.

“Finish the preparations for tonight. I will be in my chambers,” Thorin announces, stomping away and leaving behind a very confused company.

When You Can’t Sleep at Night

Summary: Dan has insomnia and his mum takes him for drives whenever he can’t sleep. One day, she takes him to a cafe where he meets a blue-eyed man with charcoal stains on his arms who gives him a reason to keep coming back.
Word Count: 7513
Warnings: Insomnia, cussing, lots of fluff
A/N: This was originally made for the @phanficexchange for user @ctrlphan (: I waited a bit to upload it so I could post when I haven’t in a while but I just couldn’t resist and decided to post today! Enjoy!

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Insomnia (n) - The perception or complaint of inadequate or poor-quality sleep due to a number of factors, such as difficulty falling asleep, waking up frequently during the night with difficulty returning to sleep, waking up too early in the morning, or unrefreshing sleep.

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Dan was a creature of the night. A person who walks through the day like a zombie, but who can barely even close his eyes when the moon is shining above. It was the same every night - Dan would tiredly crash onto his bed, waiting for the peacefulness of sleep to overtake him, but knowing it wouldn’t. His eyes would hurt, stinging to the point of tears, and his head would spin, wondering if there was even such a thing as sleep.

There were a few moments, however, when sleep would finally overtake his body. He would become lost in a mindless wander between darkness and light, before he’d awake again, and realize he had only been sleeping for a few hours. On days like those, he couldn’t tell if he felt refreshed, or if he was even more tired than before.

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