it's as if he is protecting her from the black hole

EVERY STAR IS A MIRROR 

Aries ~ The snowflakes of Pisces winter fall and death embraces the zodiac.
Sweet, sensual death. Evaporating into the divine, deep in the hollows. And the further we go into darkness, the brighter the light within us shines
Bursting to awaken with the first sound of spring, bluebirds echo in the Aries ear, calling… calling… calling….
bring back life, colour, and god’s delight to the bleakness
Special child of the divine, still held in heaven’s arms, waiting to be born like an exploding nebula, scattering pieces of itself everywhere out of curiosity and enthusiasm. Follow the sound of bloom, the fresh smell of spring, the feeling of warmth beginning to saturate your spirit once more
the earth’s revered child has finally been born. The zodiac begins

Taurus ~ 
As a child of Venus, Taureans navigate the world through their senses. The fresh air of nature, trees, flowers and wildlife is extremely therapeutic and stimulating for them. They are often acutely sensitive to the seasons and weather changes. There is a real need for contact with nature, which and many Taureans fill the roles of farmers, gardeners, horticulturists or artists who use natural materials. One of the male images of Taurus is that of the green man, the male fertility principle. This sign is the closest manifestation material purity, and their sensory alertness allows them to connect to the five sense experience like no other. They can make universes out of empty sketchbooks, make homes out of half crescent Moons and heatwaves through their determination and spirit. This is all four seasons rolled into one.

Gemini ~
Gemini provides a dazzling display of how the mind works. This
mad instrument in all of its
glory and its chaos, its genius and dissociation, its ability to create patterns and puzzles and spin the world upside down. Gemini is like a literal
mind fuck, you know one minute you are traveling 200,00 miles an hour down one road, into philosophy and corruption of the military
and then you have a drunk child on your hands, unable to focus or sit still for a moment. Geminis orgasm can come from conversation, communing with a mind, or meeting an intellect, someone who will talk their ear off all night
conveying hypnotizing facts and knowledge. Gemini is always
the student and the teacher, forever threading the information inside onto
silver wings and blowing them into the ether. They touch people through
language, through the way they weave words together to create
laughter or conversation or sheer delight. Gemini is spinning deliriously in a
world of thought, crossing the borderlines, doing the thinking for both dark and light. Gemini is a book of mysteries inside 


Cancer ~ 
Cancers have a surreal experience of time. It can melt through their mind
like dripping honey. The sound of clocks can be intimidating. They need music and oneness, the rhythm of stars. The moon rules Cancer, and before the 30-31 day calendar, we followed the cycle of the moon, a 28 day ‘month’, stemming from ‘mon’, or ‘moon’.
And now we live separate from nature, and the Cancer is pulled between materialism and delirium, unsure of what is completely real. But from this conflict evokes a brilliant prophet in the Cancer, a crystal ball that conjures the inner world’s most marvellous vision. Spirit guides reside in the 4th house.
So the Cancer can hear thoughts, and these are thoughts of their guide. They can receive intuitive knowledge about the past, a place where the Cancer dwells comfortably, they can be the conduit for ancestral inheritance and the protection of passed descendants, they can swim on a river of divination, because their psychic imagination is so acute. When they fear their own safety, this vision can become dark and volatile. Fear is Cancer’s most destructive poison.


Leo ~ It’s the centre of a star that bursts from Leo
and they are pure magic, a splendid cosmic artwork mixed with dripping sun maple and  the manifestation of divine creative power.
the Leo can stare at themselves and see the universe in their reflection, a flickering light of God burning behind their eyes,
constellations made of broken capillaries, sweetness and softness.
And there is the roar of the Leo lion, a heart that beats a tattoo
in their chest because it is overflowing with love, passion, and desire. The Leo has painted every sparkling essence of time and space with their
enchanted paintbrush, that mind is a visual display of milky way fireworks, heaven is a place on earth with Leo.
But the Leo can also look in the mirror and see a black hole. It isn’t always so vein and conceited. every flaw echoes so loudly. The Leo just wants to be loved, simply for who they are. Not their fortune, or photographs, or profound generosity. Only the bravest hearts are born under the sign of Leo. It’s sensitive and spirited,
ravishing and regal


Virgo ~ 
The lines and poetry of sacred geometry and mechanical movement come to life before the Virgo eyes. Sacred geometry is the sort of experience the Ancients believed was nourishing for the soul. Virgo becomes intimate with the earth and its divine faculties with more voracity than any sign. There are details perceivable to only the  Virgo, like nervous signals jump from their fingertips into their surroundings and electrify the invisible engineering. The Virgo individual is very sensitive to elements, precision, accuracy, and seemingly insignificant components, but nothing is simple to the Virgo, and they recognise
the duty and usefulness of everything, the whole dynamic of seasons and earth, the equilibrium and the silent movement. This is what makes Virgo tremendous at occult studies, specifically those requiring analysis like astrology and numerology, and those involving healing properties like minerals and witchcraft. Through intense observation of surroundings, through holding a
microscope to every leaf and flower, through watching the reverent dance of the sunrise as they measure the motion by time, they identify with the part of themselves that is infinite. They can unify with the part of themselves that is pure, that is untainted awareness and magnificence and beauty. 


Libra ~ 
With Libra we have the Snow White pages. the innocent beauty who does not know the seduction of her aura, the distressed belle who waits for a prince to save her, despite easily outwitting and serving justice better than any man who takes their hand. and in the antithetical pole, the wretched self consciousness. After Virgo has achieved personal perfection, she wants to be the fairest of them all. she evokes the images of others as she attempts to be all things, a glorious figment. they are the enchanted mirror, although they look into their own searching for others and answers. Libra is every character, the enchanting snow is the jewel in her heart and the melody in her love of people. And the witch, her voices of self resonance. Saturn exalts in Libra and the stepmother is an expression of the domineering Saturn parent, often leaving impossible idealism in the child. The notes of empty comparison against others that wither her supple apple cheeks into dried roses and destroy every venus valley. 


Scorpio ~ 
The human world is rarely enough for Scorpio. That can be why they provoke people’s souls, they want to see your insides, your darkness, your light. They can seem spiritually provocative, it’s like they know how to draw madness out of lovers, they can sense the unseen, they can experience states that question existence. And nothing is ever enough.
They don’t want a lover. They want a reunion with a soul mate, their soul. They don’t want sex. They want angelic intimacy, the evaporation of bodies into intwined ether. Scorpio is preparing for death, but they don’t want to leave without truly tasting life. The superficial is rarely enough for Scorpio. They are discontent swimming in shallow waters. They become easily bored when their brilliant mind is under stimulated and unchallenged, they become distracted into unconscious trance when people are dull. And the Scorpio cannot force conversation. There are holes in the world that only Scorpio can see, and they will crawl into one when this world is not enough. 


Sagittarius ~
After emergence from the deep Scorpio tomb, the Sagittarius hybrid spirit soars far and wide. The Sagittarius wisdom operates from the laws of nature, stars, archetypes, the Akashic records, the higher mind, and culture. It embodies the divine chant of laughter, the publication and interpretation of symbols, mythology, theology, and religion.
Here is the quest for the meaning of life, the pilgrimage to unknown regions in search of understanding and the materialisation of belief. It could be travel, education, relationships, indulgence in intoxicants, or nomadic wandering through religion. The Sagittarius guru is the scholar. His temple is filled with books, compasses, astrology notes, and artifacts from every country. He uses comedy for his teachings and applies experience to philosophy and scripture. Waiting in the middle of winter, the Sagittarius speaks many languages and knows many ways of life.
He is approachable and warm, filled with light and spice. Even with the wrinkles of time, the spirit of youth always radiates. Old as the trees and free as a bird, as young as the sunrise and as old as the night.


Capricorn ~ 
To stand on top of the mountain, to stare over the edge of the midheaven, sometimes all you would ever
see would be your own shadow. And the Capricorn’s shadow can linger like a heavy fog, always threatening, always concerning. At her peak, she radiates like a Mistress of Brilliance, she has scaled the land and sea, starred in her
own dream and written her own success story. She has stood behind people and encouraged their ascent
in her graces she has climbed and flown, a mountain goat, pursuing the grand land and salty sea. In all of this, she has only had herself to rely on,
and a voice of wisdom, found only in the darkest moments. She can be hungry for descent because she understands the reigns of flight. The Capricorn is contained, and yet they are the stitches that thread the stars, the grand mastery of it all. In her spirit wields the resources of the Gods, each of whom have tried and tested her. Through the Capricorn’s shadow, a self portrait is created. It reveals the most powerful triumphs of human kind.  The undeniable component of the shadow is that in its presence it reflects only light. The Capricorn is capable of wielding both in their starry ascent toward the heavens, an intuitive focus in strategic command, a skilled concentration that gleams fantasy into
reality. The shadow can be lined in
exquisite silver. 

Aquarius ~
Telepathy could be the Aquarius enchantment. Telepathy into the web of consciousness, the matrix of thought that connects all beings together. Telepathy into the ideas of the sky, cascading like a diamond waterfall into the Aquarius mind. And there is telepathy into the knowledge of stars and space dwellers. The Aquarius mind is a conduit for all sorts of cosmic contemplation. It receives tremendous visions of utopia and elevating bursts of intuition. It also soaks up space junk, and this may turn into madness. Aquarius is the last moment of thought before we capsize into Pisces dream.
They look out to the stars to find their soul mate. They stare into the sea to contemplate infinity. They test logic against galaxies of invisible wonder. The Aquarius mind diffuses an extraterrestrial perfume, their thoughts dart through constellations and fields of existence. Underneath the disorder is a mind that sparkles like the diamonds that rain on Uranus. Inconceivable. Curious. Marvellous.

Pisces ~ 
Pisceans can try on new personalities like they try on shoes,
and with those unusual feet hardly any shoes, from heels to flats or docs seem to fit properly, like all these personalities she tries to be, none of them cloak her soul with the colours. Nothing ever seems to fit those shades
she knows ripple inside, those pastels that haven’t been invented yet. From room to room she moves, shifting face and shape, slippery with sea salt infused in her skin, impossible to catch or define, lost and wandering,
the facets of a thousand personalities. It feels so foreign being trapped in a body, when she can feel wings fluttering behind her shoulder blades,
and scales shimmer under her thighs. Like a mirror carved in heaven, reflecting people as angels. She is the stain glass window that forever changes colour and tone, paint streaked over her spirit, impossible to conceive without a kaleidoscope. She knows her true self resides at home
The home in the sky, made of clouds and liquid love. But for now the show must go on. Who do I dress as today.
Nobody knows.

-Cherry

Okay i really need to talk about ep 28 of snk. Because not only did the pacing of this ep felt very off. They cut out some very important scenes that was detriment to the developments of some characters. And i don’t know if its because of the 12 ep constraint and thats why they felt the need to cut out important scenes like these, but then again this ep just felt so rushed and the pacing felst so off that its hard not to believe that they couldn’t have added these scenes in.

First off.

They changed Eren’s monlouge after he was told that he needed to learn how to harden like Annie so that he could plug up the hole in Wall Maria.

In the manga, after he thinks to himself that the ability Annie used should be possible for him to learn as well, the thought of remembering Annie as the female titan shows to discomfort him. This was a sign that even after battling her and finally accepting the realization that she was the female titan and killed numerous scouts, he still had a hard time viewing her as an enemy.

He then states that he is tired of not knowing answers and not finding a direct person to channel his anger at. Which is why he proclaims that he wants to go to his fathers batsmen and finally learn just what the hell is going on

He says that once he does, he’ll finally be able to direct his anger to at least something. Now this moment in the manga was extremely important to Erens character because it was the beginning of his growth from seeing the world as black and white, to realizing that things obviously aren’t as simple as he originally thought. It also cemented the strong relationship he had with Annie, as he still couldn’t direct his anger towards her and still refused to see her as just an enemy. I’m not just saying this as a shipper of the two,  this scene was important to his development and sort of paved the way for future events once he reaches the basments and finally see’s the world for what it is.

But no…. instead we get this one scene

They completely removed his inner monologue, a scene that was important for his character and development, if not only to rush the episode for the castle utgrad scenes at the end of the episode. Which i have a hard time believing because i can’t see how hard it is to add 1 or 2 more scenes with Eren thinking to himself. With the removal of this scene it removes the progression Eren hurdles through up to this point and finally seeing the world as a sort of grey area then black and white.

I would forgive this if they somehow include a scene between him and Annie during their training days that cemented the close relationship between the two. And no i don’t mean the scene that played out during Eren’s fight with Reiner, i mean a new scene that shows how close Eren and Annie’s bond were and that cements how close their relationship were.

The only hope i have of this is that Annie’s Seiyuu has been heavily advertised like the rest of the cast. So that probably means that she has recorded new lines for the season and im really hoping those new lines were for a scene between her and Eren.

Aannnd thats not the only thing they cut out.

One of the things i was really looking forward to was the talk between Levi and Mikasa. And in part i was super scared that they were going to skip this scene entirely. Which to be fair they didn’t( and i was happy at hearing Levi call Mikasa name ^_^)

However  i did not like how they changed the scene where Levi tells Mikasa to control her emotions and to not make a blunder like last time…

To instead telling Eren the exact same thing and that he needs to control his emotions and to not screw up next time.

Again, they removed a very important scene that helped develop Mikasa’s character. In the manga this was a way for Mikasa to admit that yes, she made a mistake, and its was because of her constant need to protect Eren all the time that caused Levi to be injured. This moved Mikasa away from the fandoms perception of her as someone who is, ‘ just obsess with Eren and is a mary sue.” Because this was her finally coming to the realization that her Emotions gong out of control and her recklessness had consequences. It gave her something to reflect on because it came from levi himself

I’m happy that they still included the scene with them talking, but when thy remove an important scene like this it removes that formation of a relationship that was starting to build between levi and Mikasa. It’s important because it was Levi who told her of her mistakes, and telling her to learn from it.

I know people are saying that thy are going to include a scene where she reflects on her mistakes during the Reiner fight, but they can’t add back a scene where it was Levi telling her all that when they completely just skimmed through it. It won’t have the same meaning because it doesn’t come from Levi himself. Which would have begun that Mentor- Student relationship between the two.

And lets not forget the scenes with Ymir. I Was happy to see that the scenes between her and Historia were pretty on the mark. But the pacing of this ep was just really rushed that its kind of aggravating that they would exclude some important scenes from her.

Like when she was trying to comfort Connie by making fun of his claim that his mom was turned into a titan.

This showed Ymir in a sort of caring light and showed her character as not just a sarcastic asshole, but someone who genuinely cares about her friends and wants to cheer them up. Albeit in her own way.

But then in one episode, they arrive in castle utgrad, and then the castle gets attacked. All of this happens in the span of like five minutes. They skip the scenes with her altogether to make room for action.

I realize they could always add these scenes in a flashback during her reveal as the dancing titan, bit its just going to seem off to have an entire flashback dedicated to these missing scenes, in between what is currently going on. The pacing is just going to be ll thrown off because of it.

Gasoline [unfinished WIP, KHR]

Going through my folders and posting what isn’t going to be finished or is dropped, so I can get it out for good and focus on what I do want to write.

Warnings for: born-a-female-Tsuna, mentions of attempted marital rape, forced marriages, drug-induced death and general mafia behavior.

Summary: Prior to marrying Iemitsu, Nana was a very accomplished black widow. Tsuna shouldn’t have to follow in her footsteps like this, but Vongola has left her no choice in the matter. So she will have the mafia fear her as she once feared them, and she will survive.

———–

Prior to marrying Iemitsu, Nana Sawada went under a different name, and was a very accomplished black widow. She slipped poison in drinks and drugs where nobody would think to look, put needle marks in skin and occasionally knives in the backs of men who treated her like an object rather than a person.

Tsuna never wanted to learn such lessons. She wanted her marriage, when it finally did happen, to be the once-in-a-lifetime event her mother gushed about having with Iemitsu. After the mafia came and ruined her life, she still clung to feeble hopes that maybe she could still get that.

But it isn’t to be.

Timoteo intends to make a statement, one way or another. Unfortunately, even if a woman should rule as Decima, she must still have a husband. And Xanxus isn’t about to touch the woman that froze him once upon a time. So he’s reached out beyond Vongola to allied families, and they’ve sent their best to him. And now he’s made a choice, and once again he’s forcing it on her.

Tsuna can lie to everyone but herself; she’s afraid. Terrified, in fact. The thought of a stranger touching her makes her want to vomit. The thought of this man breathing in her general vicinity makes her want to vomit, actually. She shakes and quivers and hides beneath her bedcovers, and for once, Reborn says nothing. He doesn’t scold her. He slides a mug of hot chocolate topped with enough whipped cream to give her diabetes her way, wordlessly tipping his hat down as he leaves the room. It doesn’t take someone of Reborn’s calibre to know the man doesn’t like this any more than she does. But he’s her tutor, not her father (no matter how much she wishes otherwise some days), and so he can only stand back and watch this trainwreck.

Maybe that’s why she confides in her mother. Why when everyone is gone, Tsuna goes downstairs, starts to speak, and then bursts into tears. Everything comes rushing out, every lie about the mafia she’s ever told, and she begs her mother’s forgiveness for the lies, and Nana gives it readily, wrapping arms around her and letting her cry into a warm shoulder. The tears eventually leave, and Nana sits her down, gets her a glass of cold water, and begins to tell her a story.

It is not a nice story.

But it teaches Tsuna what she needs to know to survive. Because Nana was once a prominent black widow that nobody could ever track down. Her husbands died of natural causes - all the autopsy reports say so - and while people had their suspicions, there was no evidence for them to pin her with. And after a time, she’d learned how to disguise herself, going from one husband to the next.

Now she cups Tsuna’s small hands in her own, and drops the mask she uses around everyone. “Tsunako, do you want to learn how?”

Tsuna can’t say yes fast enough.

———–

Her first husband dies to poison.

It’s tradition, her mother insists, when she shows Tsunako had to make a clear, tasteless, odorless toxin that’s practically untraceable once its inside the system. It’s homegrown, and Nana is a perfectionist at teaching it. She has Tsuna make batch after batch after batch until eventually she gets everything perfect. And then she gets a dropper and begins to administer one drop to Tsunako a day.

One drop doesn’t kill her. It makes her feel like shit, but she muscles through it, because a true poison user is protected against whatever they brew. Bianchi is the same way - she can eat whatever she makes and the poison won’t kill her or even make her queasy. Nana is immune to whatever toxins she injects into the veins of others, and eventually Tsuna will be too. They have time - the wedding isn’t due for a while, and nobody is going to force her and her husband together until then.

Tsuna sees Reborn watching them, once, but he vanishes too quickly for her to ask him if he’s going to tell anyone what she’s doing. She doesn’t ask afterward, because there’s a look in his eyes that’s… proud. It makes her feel warm, and when he drills her on her lessons later on, she doesn’t complain, driven by her twin desires to survive what’s coming, and make the man that has become her father in so many ways proud.

Spring passes into summer, and the wedding is held. People flock from all over to see it, and Tsuna is dressed to the nines and sent out at the alter. Her husband is a tall, weedy-looking young man who looks far too smug. She hates him at once, and his oily touch doesn’t remedy that.

The poison is not in his drink, but in her lipstick, and when they kiss (him pressing far too close, too hard, disgusting) she feels a sense of predatory satisfaction. The next morning she wakes up and screams, which brings the bodyguard outside the door running. She plays the part of the horrified wife, discovering her husband’s cold, lifeless body in bed. They rush the body away, and bring her to Reborn to keep her safe while they go question guests and comb through the drinks menu.

Reborn eyes her fingernails, but his eyes flicker upwards when she taps her lip in pretend thought. There’s a ghost of a smile across his face, but it fades once the door opens and Timoteo enters, looking both furious and terrified. He questions her if she feels ill, or if anything felt off at the wedding. She answers no to both, wringing her hands and playing up the ‘Dame-Tsuna’ act to full effect. It works, and the old man leaves.

“You’ve been hanging around Bianchi too much,” Reborn murmurs, not moving his lips, and Tsuna has to bite her own to hold back her return of its not Bianchi I’ve been spending so much time with lately, but you already know that.

————–

The death is passed off as a heart attack a week later when no results come up showing foul play. Tsuna doesn’t even get to play the widow in mourning before Timoteo’s given her another husband, this time in the form of a 40 something lech that’s like every old man out of a hentai. The old man gropes her and laughs too loudly and tries to sneak a hand up her dress to cop a feel, but Tsuna smacks his hand away and smiles the same smile her mother does at home even as her stomach rolls and her anger burns a hole through her heart.

He tries to take her no less than four separate time against various walls, each time growing more and more impatient and annoyed when Tsuna darts away. The poison is in her nails this time, and when he finally grabs her too hard she scratches him ‘on accident’ and then demands he leave her alone, she doesn’t want to be touched. She closes herself off in her room and locks the door. Her new husband pounds on it and snarls demands, but she puts her headphones on and ignores him until eventually he gives up and goes away.

This poison is far more slow-acting, and it doesn’t strike until early the next morning during breakfast. Bianchi and Reborn have taken her out to a nearby cafe for breakfast, citing ‘comfort food in these troubling times and a female shoulder to cry on’. In reality Bianchi wants to know her methods and trade tips, and Reborn pays for a tiny cake and congratulates her on finding sneaky solutions to her problems.

“I thought you’d go running off and tell Timoteo,” she confesses to her tutor. Reborn gives her a look.

“I’ve been around this business long enough to know how these things go, Tsuna. Trust me, I don’t judge you one iota for what you’re doing. But you should probably change your methods here shortly.”

She nods, having already planned to use a needle on whoever the unfortunate third soul is. They finish breakfast and head home, laughing and talking about whatever strikes their fancy, and when they arrive home its to a Timoteo that looks far older than before. “Grandfather? What’s wrong?”

He gives her a pitying look. “There’s… there’s been another death, my dear.”

She drops to her knees in shock, Bianchi by her side instantly, hooking an arm around her shoulders and murmuring comforting words as she ‘helps’ Tsunako up. Reborn’s face is shadowed, but Tsuna can see the sparkle in his eyes from her position. “What happened?” she asks in what she hopes is the right tone of voice.

Later, Reborn toasts her in the privacy of the bedroom, and Bianchi congratulates her on another job well done. This death is passed off as a choking accident, as apparently the man had been shoving as much food in his gullet as possible when the poison had kicked in. Nobody had managed to get to him in time to prevent the ‘choking’, which just made the victory all the easier.

Destined To Be Yours (Yondu Udonta x Reader)

Scenario: Yondu discovers you on a slave auction and decides to save you. But what path will his decision lead the two of you on?

A/N: Can be read as a prequel to “A Ravager’s Love” that you’ll find on my blog under the tag; yondu udonta x reader. Hope y'all will enjoy this story :)

Warnings: Smut, Drama, Angst & Fluff, Murder, Harsh & Explicit Language.

~ ~ ~

Life on earth had been a quiet living for you. A husband or children never seemed to be in your cards. You lived your life with a blooming carrier and a group of close friends, telling yourself that was everything you needed. But your heart knew better. Your heart knew the truth. It seeked for something else. For something new.

So the night you were taken didn’t scare you as much as it excited you. The prospect of life on other planets had always been true to you, so there was no surprise displayed on your face when the spaceship emerged above you and beamed you aboard. But the benevolent aliens you hoped to see were nowhere to be found. Instead the shackled you and sold you as a slave.

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Moon of Fire Part vi (Sastiel Sequel)

Thank you guys so much for the amazing Sastiel support! I write this fic because I too am the biggest Sastiel fan. I want to know what they’re thinking, what they’re about to do as you do too, so I hope you guys enjoy this, and let me know what you think!!

If you haven’t read A Court of Fire and Dreams:
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV and Part V.

Moon of Fire:
Part i, Part ii, Part iii, Part iv, Part v

*****

She’s never met anyone like him.
It wasn’t his classically beautiful face, nor the massive wings tucked tightly behind his back.
It was the sight of a Fae warrior—so closed off—so hidden behind shadows and darkness that pulled her towards him.
Asterin wanted to break that wall apart.
Piece by piece, layer by layer, until she really saw him.
The real him that didn’t hide behind the scars.
The real him that didn’t flinch at the sight of her iron teeth and nails.
Asterin wanted to unravel him, understand him, until his shadows made way to reveal his heart.

Keep reading

Barely Dressed; Never Snogging

Read On Fanfiction

The first time Lily Evans wore James Potter’s shirt was an accident.

Lily grabbed it from the clean laundry pile that the House Elves placed on her trunk the night before. She threw it over her head and as it slid down her face into place she realized how good the shirt smelled. She mused that when her clothes came back from the elves, they never smelled so…good.

She didn’t notice it wasn’t one of her Gryffindor shirts until the hem fell right above her knees like a very short dress. The soft cotton was well worn and soft against her bare skin, colored scarlet with a lion rearing on the front majestically. Lily pulled it off just as quickly as she’d put it on, checking the tag and seeing no name written in. When she flipped it over to view the back she was in luck.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I'm sure this will be answered in canon at some point, but for now, do you have any thoughts on Haggar's deal?

I mean, that’s a pretty general topic here.

I think the main mysteries behind Haggar right now are:

  • What caused her to break with Altea the way she did?
  • Who was she before that?
  • What is she to Zarkon?
  • Why is she so abnormally, terrifyingly powerful- and is that a common thread between her and Allura?
  • What happened to her face marks- were they always like that? They’re a completely different color and shape from the rest of the Alteans, which is peculiar considering the fact that both Coran and Allura have their marks as infants would tell us it’s biological.

At this point, I have some theories, but one of the main ones is: I think that Haggar at some point saved Zarkon’s life.

Keep reading

Aftermath

Alright friends, it’s headcanon time again! This time going right for the feels.

This will go in the “Headcanon” category. If you want to take this idea and expand upon it, please do! Tag me so I can see what you create! And HERE are my other headcanons!

  • When all’s said and done, Zarkon is defeated and the universe is saved, the paladins would return home.
  • And there are questions. ESPECIALLY from the World Space Government (which I’m sure there must be?). We see in Episode 1 that humans haven’t discovered alien life yet, and they just brought back two sentient, very intelligent, human-like creatures with super advanced technology. Not to mention a successful human-galra hybrid (seemingly) without huge biological problems.
  • (And aliens have a concept of a mall? And what on Earth is ‘Quintessence’? It’s a castle and a ship?)
  • So there is a long period of time before Team Voltron is actually free to do what they want. And once they’re free, the questions start to come from within the group.
  • What’s going to happen with Coran and Allura? Where are they going to go? If anywhere? There’s no Altea to return to. Is Allura still considered the princess if she only rules over one person, who’s her caretaker? What if the universe needs Voltron again? 
  • What about Keith’s relationship with the Blade of Marmora? Would he go back to be a part of them? Would he pursue his mother?
  • Now that the Holts are back, will they complete the Kerberos Mission? Would Shiro dare go back there, considering what a traumatic experience that was? Would Pidge join them?
  • Could Lance and Hunk go back to the Garrison to actually get pilot’s licenses? Even though they’re pro lion pilots? Where does being a paladin rank in the military?  What about their families? How would they explain any of this?
  • No one really wants to think about any of that. So in the meantime, the paladins decide they should show the Alteans Earth, both in terms of natural wonders and the culture of humans. They take turns deciding where to go and make a long road trip out of it.

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Moving Business Part 4

Originally posted by qweentae

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Genre: Mafia!au

Warnings: Angst, um Violence? Taehyung swears a lot?

Summary: Part of you actually wanted to believe being around Taehyung meant you were going to be safe but after the one and only time he let you out. You slipped from his grasp but not the way you had intended.

(Credit to original owner of gif)

Part (1) (2) (3) (4)

(A/N I WROTE THIS IN ONE NIGHT BE PROUD OF ME)

When you woke up in the morning, you were met with Taehyung’s bare back sitting upright and you smiled warmly and sat up,while wrapping your arms around him causing a deep chuckle to emit from him “Well good morning to you too.” He breathed in his raspy morning voice.

You felt somewhat guilty knowing your plan to escape was falling through just because you simply loved him so much. He turned his head slightly and you smiled at his tired face but you gave him a kiss anyway and he turned his whole body and pulled your onto his lap and you giggled as you remembered when you guys would do this when you were younger.

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Worry [Batsis]

Anon requested: “Hi! Could you pretty please do one where an older sister (roughly Dick’s age) tries to hide an injury sustained on patrol so as not to worry her brothers and father?″

Pairing: Batboys x Sister!Reader x Bruce Wayne

Warnings: None

Word Count: 745

WANT TO BE TAGGED?

MASTERLIST


A relieved smile made its way to your face as the night ended with little casualties, at least casualties sustained by your family.

You glanced at your lower stomach, grimacing when you felt blood seep into your black costume. You had been shot earlier that night from behind, and since there was no hole on the other side you could only assume the bullet was still in there. This was not new though.

Being a Wayne had its perks, like the incredible wealth and access to limitless options and pathways for your future, but it also came with a huge responsibility; the family business and the nightly activities. You never complained though. Even with the sleepless nights, the stress and enduring missions, saving the innocent and protecting the city from lowly scums was your passion and you loved it. However, there was no denying the danger that came with it.

You didn’t mind the danger, if you were completely honest. In fact, the thrill and adrenaline was quite exciting, but there was always a risk of death and you had more near-death experiences than you could count.

This wasn’t a near-death experience though, it was a simple bullet wound. It wasn’t something you hadn’t gotten before, so you decided to keep quiet, not wanting to worry the others. They were exhausted and had enough to deal with already.

“So I guess we’re done for the night?” Dick asked, yawning as the hour was late.

“We’re done.” Bruce confirmed, taking off his cowl. “Get some rest.”

“Can’t,” Tim mumbled, “I have to–”

“Come on Timmy,” you scoffed, trying not to move or sound like you were in pain, “save that for the morning.”

“You know the work’s gonna pile up.” Tim protested, “you’re just being lazy.”

You gasped. “Me? Lazy?” you grinned, “took you long enough to realize.”

Hearing this, Tim elbowed you playfully, and usually you’d laugh it off, but this time he had hit your wound, causing you to groan in pain. This got everyone’s attention.

“[F/N], are you okay?” Tim questioned, knowing a hit like that wouldn’t even faze you.

“F-Fine.” you breathed, trying not to look like you’re hurt but failing miserably.

“You don’t look fine. What’s wrong?” Jason demanded, starting towards you.

You took a step back, feeling cornered. “Really, I’m fine–” Even though you were clearly not, you truly didn’t want them to worry over something as minor as a bullet wound. Some of your brothers had died, a wound like yours was nothing in comparison.

You gasped when you felt someone lift your cape.

“She was hit.” Damian stared plainly, his tone unimpressed and rather disappointed.

“What?” Dick exclaimed, rushing to you. He then spotted the darker patch of black on your costume and touched it, his eyes widening when he saw blood. “[F/N]! You’re bleeding!”

“It’s nothing!” you insisted, trying to get away. However, your brothers had surrounded you. “Really guys?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tim asked, looking at you worriedly.

“It could already be infected.” Jason scolded, “when did this happen?”

“I don’t know? Some guy came and shot me–”

“Wait, shot?” Damian exclaimed, “is the bullet still in there?!”

“Well, yes but–” Your brothers continued arguing and scolding you, causing you to become increasingly frustrated.

“That’s enough.” Bruce said loudly, stopping all the bickering, “let’s get [F/N] fixed up first. Then talk.”

Your brothers practically dragged you into the infirmary, where they began to dig up the bullet from your body. You had to admit, it hurt like a bitch but thankfully it didn’t hit anything important.

After fixing you up, your brothers began to scold you again, saying how careless and stupid you were, which was funny considering you were the oldest.

“It’s late, let [F/N] rest.” Bruce declared, ushering everyone out before they could protest. You looked at your father, expecting him to scold you as well, but instead he sighed and smiled sadly.

“You’ll only worry your brothers pulling off a stunt like that.” he stated.

“I know,” you huffed, “but I just don’t want them to baby me or be concerned about something as minor as… this.”

“Which is one of your best qualities,” Bruce said with a slight smile, “but it could also get you seriously hurt and I’m not going to lose a daughter.”

You looked down shamefully. “I-I know dad…”

“I know you do.” he kissed your forehead gently, “take it easy, [F/N].”

Glowing Connections

Fandom: Voltron
Pairing: A sprinkle of Klance, a mention of Lancelot
Characters: Lance, Pidge, Allura, Coran, Hunk, Keith
Summary: The bond between Paladin and Lion is sacred and unimaginable. It is a connection between two souls completely attuned to each other and it is a bond that grows even stronger with time an care. It is a bond that can grow so strong it can leave a physical trace on a Paladin’s body. A mark that proves how connected a Palain and Lion truly is.

So why does Lance, of all people, seem to hate the markings so?

AO3

AN - A terribly named fanfic based on the amazing glowing tattoos art by @jen-iii


Pidge let out a shout as sharp claws dug into the spot her green shoulder pad met her white chest plate, a crack in the armour that the creature she was fighting used to tear the chuck of metal off.  She cried out again as the harsh treatment damaged her shoulder and a growl followed her shout.  Lance held his weapon firmly, aim focused on the aliens own weak spot, in only a moment the creature would move its own shoulder just so, causing the protective scales to lift and give Lance enough time for him bullet to hit its mark.  

All he had to do was focus.

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Stuck in the Middle (With You)

Winchester sister imagine

A/n: based off of episode 12 that aired last night so spoilers

Warnings: blood, language, the usual.

Forever tag list: @Freaksforthewin , @thewinhunter, @cambriacaneatnoodles, @brokennoone , @youtubehelpsmesurvive , @chrisevansthedoritobastard , @winchesters-favorite-girl , @we-know-a-little-about-a-lot @godh8salyssa @dean-baby-Winchester @straightasdeanwinchester@animexchocolate

“Crowley’s right,” piercing blue eyes starred into your own. “You should go.” A loud pain filled grunt filled the air around the rotting angel.

“Cas, come on.” Your oldest brother, Dean, wore a set of swollen eyes. Trying their best to soak up the tears daring to escape from their green captors.

The whole time you stayed crouched directly to his right side. Locking your left hand with his own right.

“No, you listen to me.” His voice cracked slightly as another grown escape his chapped lips. “You-look, thank you. Knowing you, it…it’s been the best part of my life.”

“Cas…” you’d only whispered it, but he heard your hushed and broken tone speaking to the right of him.

“The things…the things we’ve shared together. They’ve changed me.” The pain in his body soared up to his eyes, jumping to yours as his eyes locked to you for a split moment before looking to the rest of the family.

“You’re my family. I love you.” At the last part, the two of you shared a solid moment of eye contact. The grip he had on your hand tightened for a split second before he continued. “I love all of you.”

Your head shook at his words. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

“This sounds an awful like a goodbye speech to me.” The sadness you’d tried your best to contain flooded like a broken dam out of your eyes as you spoke.

“Your story doesn’t end here, Castiel.” Mary, your mother, had a certain kind of look to her. She wore a coat of guilt, but why? You all helped people- other hunters. “This is my fault.” When she directed the blame directly to herself, a cold chill went tingling up your spin as fresh goosebumps danced along your exposed arms and neck.

“Just please…please, don’t make my final moments be spent watching you die.” Judging by the look in his eyes, he wouldn’t gotten up and shoved you all out the door if he had the strength. “Just run. Save yourselves. And I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can.” With all his strength he tried to push his body upward, but only fumbled back down with a cough.

A care filled and loving smile spread on your lips. Salty tears fell down your cheeks and over your split bottom lip. Stinging the open wound more than smiling did. Reaching forward with your right hand, you Bentley caressed the side of his head where the rotting hadn’t yet spread. Your fingers getting tangled up in his messy hair.

“Cas, no.” Your voice barley broke through the tears.

“Yes.” He inhaled sharply.

“There is no way in hell I’m leaving you here. If you’re staying, I’m staying right here with you.” No longer was your hand intertwined with his hair. Instead it rested on top of yours which still held on tightly to his left hand.

A sharp and rough sigh came from his rotting body.

Why must you be so pig headed, Y/n?” His body repositioned to what seemed to be a more comfortable position for him to rest in.

A short laugh came from your still sore body. “Nobody told you to love me, Feathers.”

“You need to keep fighting.” Frustration took over his look of pain. He was no longer talking just to you.

“We are fighting.” Sam exhaled sharply. “We’re fighting for you, Cas.” His eyebrows were bunched together as the three lines of wrinkles took over the middle of his forehead.

“And like you said, you’re family.” Dean chimed in. “And we don’t leave family behind.”

Your angels head rested backwards in defeat. There was no way any of you were leaving him, and he knew that.

Sam called for your mother to follow him to talk. Dean trailed behind the two of them while you stayed next to Cas. Locking your fingers even tighter with his.

“I won’t let you leave me.” After a few seconds of silence between you two, you’d finally broken it.

“Y/n,” there was no doubt he was about to protest with what could very well have been his final breath, but you wouldn’t let him.

“No, Cas. Why would you ever…ever think I would leave you?” Part of you felt disappointed. Not in him, but in yourself. “Regardless of circumstances.”

He let out a grown before he responded. “Because… the last thing I want to leave this world seeing is the person I love the most being slaughtered in front of me while I’m left- unable to do anything.” It was getting harder for him to speak. Grunts and groans came from him in between words.

His eyes closed for a moment as a deep and held in groan came from his body. Up the left side of his face grew a splitting black crack. The rotting was getting worse.

Baby…” your hands reached out, fingers just barley touching his face.

A loud banging sound followed by a deep shout came from outside. Somewhat close to your brothers, a giant human side hole was created as a body was thrown through. Crowley.

Seemed not siding with you guys hadn’t worked so well in his favor. Or had he chosen to help in a different way?

Hidden behind the walls came a sharp, fine tuned whistling. A man stepped through and the grip Castiel had on your hand tried its best to get stronger. As if he was protecting you. Telling you to stay out and not do something stupid to get yourself killed as well.

Ramiel and the rest of your family began to speak back and forth, but you were more concerned with how fast the rot was growing.

Your brothers carried on with the Prince. All of your attention was on Cas, who was completely focused on what was happening with the rest of the Winchesters. Knowing you were somewhat safe beside him.

Suddenly, the prince reached behind him and pulled out a lance. The one Crowley had mentioned. The moment it’s base hit the ground powerfully, a gust of strong wind came in your direction. Every direction really. Your family went flying in every direction, while Cas did his best to help anchor you down to prevent you from going too. Then the battle begun.

For a few moments you sat there, watching from a short distance. Until you realized it would take all the power possible to stop him.

Your body stood up. But something stopped you from continuing forward to the fight. A hand which was grabbed lordly onto the bottom of your newly ripped jeans. Cas. This was his way of telling you to stay. Reluctantly you did. Ignoring every fiber of your body pulling towards the rest of your family.

Finally, your brothers had managed to get him into a vulnerable position as the lance was drove deeply into his chest. It was over. Be at the same time it was just beginning.

A dark black substance began pouring from the angels lips. “Guys.” Your voice was almost barley heard, but it was just enough to get their attention.

It was almost as if he was having a seizure. His body began shaking at one point and it was almost too much to watch. Slowly you lifted a very shaky hand to your mouth, covering your lips in disbelief. The air you so desperately needed began to slip away from you as breathing became harder.

From behind, your mother approached and held the back of your head into her chest, her arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Hey, we’re right here Cas.” There was nothing anybody could do but comfort him. Dean could barley speak himself.

The oozing began to worsen. This was how he would die. His eyes were blank regardless of the fact they were open. Like he was checked out into a painful land.

“We’re right here buddy.” Sam added in.

Just as you thought the end was approaching, a bright blue light took over the room around you. It’s source radiating from behind you all. The light wrapped around Cas, taking him into its warm glow.

When it was all over you took in the sight before you. An angel. No wounds. No rot.

“Cas!” Your arms laced together around his neck, still being careful not to hurt him. Just in case.

Everybody’s heads turned around to be greeted with a sight nobody thought they’d ever see. Before you all stood a very fine Crowley.

“The magic’s in the craftsmanship.” Just before he left he turned and finished. “Oh, you’re welcome.” And just like that the Boy King was gone.

The five of you left, but there was something off. Something you couldn’t shake. A feeling of being lied to, wronged. And you didn’t understand it.

****

Everybody had gone back to the hotel, except your mother. Who had been staying at a different one.

Both of your brothers were driving in Baby, Mary in a separate car, while you drove the truck and Cas rode shotgun.

Of course you were questioned when you strayed from the route to the hotel.

“Y/n, where are we going?” Cas was speaking normally again, but with that bit of confusion in his voice. It was understood.

“I’ve just- you trust me?” You figured you knew the answer, but still.

“Of course, always.” His face was turned towards yours, which was focused on the road ahead.

Without warning you accelerated, not wanting to loose Mary’s car which had turned into a parking lot.

The two of you sat in the truck, from an unseen distance of course. She was talking to someone. He looked familiar. The moment you saw something- something you thought had been long lost, you hopped out of the truck and began storming into the building.

The door swung open, the little bell resting on the inside ringing violently.

“Y/n!” She must’ve been surprised to see you. Cas was right behind you, sharing an equally surprised and disappointed look.

“Cas?” All it took was his name being spoken from your lips.

He walked forward, placing a hand on the Colt and taking it into his grasp. The man you had no trust for didn’t try a thing. Seen your hand on the gun hidden from sight. Without another word you stormed out of the diner and back to the truck.

“Y/n!” A voice called from behind you, but you simply ignored it. “Y/n, wait!”

A scoff came from you.

Wait? Wait for what? To hear some bullshit story as to why you nearly got us all killed so you could steal something for that prick in there?” This was what Ramiel had said was his. And she just stood there, prepared to let you all die for it.

“Please, I can explain.” An unamused and sarcastic smile was on your lips as she spoke her words.

“Yeah well you might want to make it quick.” You swallowed hard, trying to down the lump in your throat.

“I lied. About helping Wally.” You wanted to interrupt badly, yell, but you waited for a reason. “For them. The British- I’ve been working for them for awhile now. And we’ve saved a lot of people.”

With everything in your body you clenched the power into your fists. Trying to stop yourself from blowing up on her.

“I knew if I said it was for me there’d be questions. Questions I couldn’t answer.” A sympathetic look was being held in her eyes, but you couldn’t care less.

“So then what? You lie? To get us on some suicide mission? You almost- Cas was on the brink of death. We were all being threatened and had no way to defend ourselves whatsoever. Nothing, mom.” A sharp exhale of breathe left your shaking body before you continued. “When he said to give it to him, you should’ve.”

“I couldn’t loose it for them. You have to understand that, Y/n.” Her hand reached forward to touch your cheek but you only pushed it away.

“Understand what? How you chose some half assed deal over your kids?” The lump in your throat only grew, making it harder to speak.

“Sometimes, you have to do what’s necessary…” you’d heard enough.

Every muscle in your body lunged forward as your right fist connected with the side of her face. Your ring cutting her cheek. Before you you could swing again two masculine arms wrapped around your body in a bear hug.

“It’s over, Y/n. Walk away.” Castiel held on tightly, your rage made you stronger than you’d ever been.

Your own mother had betrayed you. All of you. But this was far from over. It was just beginning.

anonymous asked:

Could we please get junkrat getting jealous of Mercy because reader keeps going to see her. Turns out reader is going for check ups as they are now pregnant by junkrat. Reader revels to him at the end its twins.

Thanks for the request!  I love writing for Junkrat, my trash son.


Word count: 2080


Twice now you had done it.  Two times in which you told your boyfriend that you couldn’t be with him because you had to go see Dr. Zeigler.  And those were just the times you had a planned appointment, and not including the five times you were sick and gone to see her.  At first he was worried something was gravely wrong with you–because why else would you be throwing up throughout the day without giving him a reason?  No, he knew you must have just wanted to spend time with the kind doctor.

“What’cha think she’s doin’ Roadie?” he asked.  He sat hunched over a table, chin resting on the metal as he poked at a bomb with one finger.  

“Her business,” came the rumbled reply.  He was reading a book beside the smaller Junker, mask on and turning pages quickly despite his narrow field of vision.

A whine escaped between Jamison’s teeth that turned into a loud groan.  In a quick motion he flicked a match up and lit the end of the bomb’s fuse.  He laughed as he watched it burn down until Roadhog reached over, never looking away from his book, and put the fuse out with his thumb and index finger.  Another whine came from Jamison.  

“What’s going on in here?” came your voice as you walked into the room.  You were a little paler than normal, but you smiled.  Jamison eyed you, knowing you had just been to see the doctor and questioning why you were smiling.  Normally you only smiled for him like that, but lately it had been after your visits.  He let his tongue slid over his teeth, arms crossed.  

Your eyes fell from his pouting lips to the small round bomb on the table.  “Jami, you know you can’t set things off in here.  Just go to the blasting range if you want; that’s what it’s there for.”  You came around the table and gave him a kiss on the cheek, thinking his pout was because of the bomb and nothing more.  “We can go now if you want?”

He jumped at the idea, grinning wide.  Grabbing your hand he practically dragged you to the blasting range outside, scarred with black marks and holes in every corner of the concrete.  The wide area had been added in especially for Jami, after he set a few too many fires inside and even Roadhog had trouble keeping him under control during the long periods without a mission.  You noticed someone had set up a few targets, most likely Roadhog, with omnic faces painted on them.

A box of frag grenades sat on a plastic table, along with a few other various explosives.    You each fell into your usual rhythm, where you would light the match and fuse, and then he would throw the bomb out–sometimes it hit the target, sometimes it would “accidentally” go closer to the buildings.  But with you there he normally behaved, and would watch you as much as he would watch the explosions.  Today though, he didn’t feel like doing either.  Today, he wanted to do something very different.

As you flicked the match and watched the yellow flame ignite, you held it out to Jami with a smile.  As much as he loved to see your smile he gave you a pout and held up the bomb from earlier, watching it light the fuse.  You waited for him to throw it at the first target, a large omnic head painted on, but he didn’t.

“Jami?” you asked, suddenly worried.  There wasn’t much time before the fuse ran out.

“I’m not sure I feel like usin’ the targets, darl,” he said.  “Why not blow something real up for once?”

“Jami you know–”

Before you could finish your thought, let alone your sentence, Jami tossed the bomb over his shoulder.  It bounced twice before landing in a potted plant nearby, too close for your comfort.  Your hand went to your stomach instinctively as the pot exploded, showering you both with dirt and the burning leaves of whatever was in there.

When Jami heard you shout though, he realized what he was doing.  He didn’t think much about others getting hurt, not until he met you.  And while there had been some mishaps, some minor scratches and bruises from you diving for cover, nothing he’d done had ever required you to scream or worse, require a doctor.  But when he heard you cry out, and saw you duck, and pieces of the pot flew in your direction he felt as if his heart had stopped.

Jami quickly pulled you to the ground and covered your body with his, wrapping all around you.  Sharp edges of the pot sunk into his skin, some small and some not so much.  They tore into muscle, drawing blood quickly.  He barely felt it at all, his body pumped full of adrenaline as he tried his best to protect you.  When he knew the shrapnel was finished, and the world was quiet with settled dirt, he lifted back slightly to look at you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry babe,” he stated, tears springing to his eyes, “I didn’t mean that.  I’m sorry, I just don’t think.  You know me, I just can’t think sometimes.”  He swatted his head with his metal hand twice before you grabbed it.

“Jami,” you breathed, “it’s fine.  I’m fine, are you?”

“No, no, no,” he mumbled, “not fine.  Ya keep leavin’ me, I don’t like it.  Can’t think straight without you.”

Jami stood, holding his hands out for you to help you up.  Your eyes fell on the blood on his shoulder, a thick piece of clay pot sticking out of it.  You said, “We can talk about that after you go see Angela.”

Jami couldn’t stop the groan crawl out of the back of his throat.  When his nose crinkled you didn’t give him time to try and stop.  So you kept hold of him and walked him to see Angela, your legs still shaky after the explosion.  When you arrived she didn’t seem shocked to see you again.  

“Was the medicine not enough, Y/N?  Still nauseous?” she asked.

All you had to do was turn Jami around for her to understand.  He’d gone to see her plenty of times for stitches and various remedies, but he never had such a scowl on his face.  When you mentioned that you were there when it happened she immediately handed Jami off to a nurse to be patched up and attended to you.  The perks of being friends with the doctor.

Jami wanted you to stay with him, if only to keep you away from Angela.  You almost went with him until Angela insisted on a quick checkup after the scare.  

Only when the debris was taken out of his back and shoulders did he get to see you again.  But when the nurse pulled the curtain around your bed back, he wasn’t sure what he was seeing.

You lay on the bed, shirt up and tapping your fingers along the bed rail, staring at a photo in your other hand.  You appeared nervous, he thought, and your stomach shone with some kind of gel on it.

“What’s this?” he asked.  Had he really hurt you?  He felt his eyes water at the very idea of it.  Before he could start to pull at his hair and whine Angela turned to him and said, “She is fine.  Just wanted to be safe since…”  Her eyes fell on you.

“Since?” Jami prodded.  His heart nearly stopped again with those words.

“Jami,” you said slowly, “I wanted to wait a bit to tell you this…just to…make sure everything was okay.”

He moved closer to you, quickly grabbing onto your hand with his human one, and holding your arm with his other.  “You’re killin’ me here, darl.  What is it, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to do something with you.”  You nodded at Angela, who then placed the ultrasound probe on your belly.  Jami watched, eyes wide and eager as he tried to understand what was happening.

Soon an image flicked onto the nearby screen that Dr. Zeigler was staring at with a smile, recognizing something there.  You smiled too, but you kept your eyes on Jami.  Eventually you could both hear tiny beats, the steady pumping of a little heart.

“Ya…” he said.  His eyes focused on the black and white shape on the screen, the blurry image hard to make out.  But Jami was a smart man, and while you hadn’t thought he’d ever seen an ultrasound before you knew he would find this out on his own.  “Ya pregnant?”  He looked at you, mouth agape.  “With mine?”

You laughed and pushed the photo at him.  “Yes, with yours!”  Releasing you from his grip he stared down at the photo Angela had given you earlier that day, and then back at the screen.  The heartbeats could still be heard, and Jami seemed to stall.

“Sounds like he’s got a fast heart,” he finally said.  He kept looking between the screen and the photo.

“They’re perfectly healthy,” you replied, “both of them.”

Jami blinked at you.  “Both?”

You smiled, tears coming to your eyes partly because you weren’t sure if Jami’s reaction was a happy one, and partly because you were hearing your baby’s heartbeats for the first time.  “Yeah, twins.  I wanted to wait until you knew to hear them for the first time.”

Expression still shocked, you couldn’t read him.  Angela remained quiet.  A tear began to slide down your cheek, thinking he wasn’t happy.

“Imma be a father,” he whispered.  “Imma be someone’s daddy?”  Neither you nor Angela had anytime to say a word as he shouted, “Imma be someone’s daddy!”  He laughed loudly, nearly crushing the photo in his hands.

You let out a breath, seeing the huge smile on his face.  You added, “Two someone’s.”

“Two,” he breathed.  When he noticed the tears falling down your cheeks he leaned over and kissed you, wiping at your cheeks with his thumbs.  The kiss was long, somewhat breathtaking as you tried not to cry any more.  It must have lasted longer than you thought because you two only stopped when Angela cleared her throat.  Jami was slower to pull away.

“How far along are ya?”

“About three months,” you answered.

He looked to your stomach.  “Can’t tell at all, love.”

Dr. Zeigler handed you a cloth to wipe away the gel on your belly, and once it was gone you were about to pull your shirt down when Jami’s hand touched you gently.  His hand was hot, and a little sweaty, but he touched you as if you were glass.  You weren’t sure he had ever been so gentle with you.  His thumb stroked over your skin as he lowered himself down to eye level with your stomach.

“Two,” he whispered, “two little babies in there.”

“No more blasting range for you,” Angela said, giving you a frown.  “You will need as much rest and calm as you can get.  Twins can be complicated, you know.”  She turned her attention to Jami when you nodded.  “You need to take care of her, Jamison.”

“Absolutely, doc,” Jami replied, his hand still on your stomach.  He looked up at you.  “Whatever ya need, I got it.”  He let out a fit of giggles.  “Roadie’s gonna be so excited!”

You and Angela exchange a glance.  You said, “I’m sure he’ll be…something.”

You weren’t sure how Roadhog would feel having two little Jami’s running around, but you didn’t care; all that mattered was Jami’s own excitement.

BONUS (because it popped into my head)

“Roadie, buddy!” Jami said as you and he walked hand in hand into their workspace.  “We got news.  We’re having kids!  Two!  There are two little babies growing in Y/N!”

Roadhog looked up from his book, his expression nearly blank with the mask on but you could see his eyes widen.

“You’re having two kids?” he questioned.  The longest sentence you’d ever heard him say.  

“Yeah, twins!  Inn’it great?”

Slowly, Roadhog shut his book and set it on the table.  He stood and walked towards you both before saying, “I quit.”

| Stranger | Older! Chat Noir

Adrien frowned, yet again.

“Dude,” Nino raised an eyebrow, interrupting the blonde’s deep thought. “Are you planning on consuming that pencil whole?”

Adrien paused red-handed at the question. He’d been chewing on the end of said mistreated pencil for unnaturally long and flushed red, lowering it from his lips.

Nino chuckled. “What’s got you so twisted dude?”

Adrien tilted his head and Nino followed his line of vision, pushing up his glasses.

There you were.

Not too far from them, close up against the wall and almost blending into it. Your head was down in a book as usual, fingers absentmindedly twisting the strands of your hair into a mess. All that was known about you was that you were a new foreign exchange student and that your name was Y/N. Besides that, it was like you had faded into the background without so much as a trace.

Adrien found it…intriguing.

As if feeling the stare on your person you glanced up. Your eyes met Adrien’s for a split second before you purposely glanced away, your lips tugging down.

Nino whistled slowly, amused. “Well that was intentional.”

Adrien groaned, leaning back into his chair and boring holes into the ceiling. “I know. She’s been acting that way around me since she got here, and I don’t know why. Anytime I even try and start up a conversation she bolts.”

“Technically she’s like that around everyone; some chicks just can’t be fazed man,” Nino shrugged, patting his friend’s shoulder in a consoling motion. “Let it go.”

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. He wished it was that simple, as he’d been telling himself the same thing for the past two weeks. But no matter how he tried to push you out of his head you had taken up permanent residence there with a mortgage and everything. No, there had to be something he could do.

In the middle of his contemplation someone passed by your desk, laughing at a pun they had shouted across the room. You visibly bit the inside of your cheek and giggled, before coughing into your hand.

Adrien’s eyes widened. “She likes jokes.”

“I guess,” Nino blinked, scratching the back of his neck. “So what? Are you gonna start cracking up like a clown to get her attention?”

Adrien shoved him in the side and Nino retaliated with a contagious grin, ruffling his hair.

No I’m not,” Adrien rolled his eyes. “And I can’t anyway, because, like you said, she is uncomfortable around everyone.”

Light came to his jeweled eyes as he turned to look outside the window with a concealed smile.

Bingo.

“But I do know someone who can.”

Keep reading

[Somewhere In-between]

Series: Fairy Tail.
Pairing: Future!NaLu.
Setting: Canon - Dragon timeline. 
Genre(s): romance, angst.

Summary: That was when the truth finally hit him: the truth that he was already dead. And that he might never see Lucy again.

Natsu woke with a start. Gasping for breath, he choked on the ash and the smoke hanging low and thick in the warm air. Ruins of buildings ran on for miles in either direction, offering a clear and dismal view of the black sky and its winged inhabitants. Clouds receded into the ever-growing darkness, forming a mass that hid the stars from view.

Natsu was alone in the darkness.

Gazing down at his hands, Natsu remembered the jaw of a dragon closing around him. He remembered the sickening rush of fire that enveloped him too quickly to be devoured. He remembered Lucy’s screams below him.

And yet, here he was, barely a scratch on him. Lucy must’ve done something. But, then, where was she? 

Clambering to his feet, Natsu staggered forward and caught himself on the ruins of a nearby building. The wall chipped away under his fist, adding to the pile of debris at his feet. He had no time for exhaustion. He had no time for pain. He needed to go. He had to find Lucy. To find his guild mates.

Wiping the sweat from his face, Natsu eased himself along the wall, guiding himself into one of the few remaining buildings. Though the windows had shattered and the ceiling fallen in, the structure offered enough shelter to keep him out of sight.

He still couldn’t believe what was happening. Ten thousand dragons had just come pouring out of the gate in a sea of fire. And Lucy – Lucy had tried to stop it. Tried to warn them. If only they’d let her close the damn gate!

Glancing around the ruins, Natsu searched in vain for something that might lead him to Lucy. Taking a deep breath, he searched for her scent, hoping to find it among the suffocating mist of smoke clinging to the air.

Leaning against the wall in an attempt to suppress his panic and prevent his muscles from failing him, Natsu stared idly at the floor, hoping an idea might appear in the cloud of ash at his feet. There had to be something he could do. Some way of knowing if she was still alive. 

Visions of Igneel flickered though his mind. He’d been able to track Igneel from great distances as a child – that’s why, when his father had disappeared, he’d been so damn sure that he could find him. But that was a heartache for another time. First, Natsu had to find Lucy. And then he had to find his friends.

‘Think,’ he urged himself. ‘What were we doing before now?’

Natsu had stepped in to protect Lucy from a group of dragons hoping to make her their meal. After that, she’d dragged him off to a nearby building, hoping to dress his wounds. They’d spent the night in that shelter, Natsu eating surrounding flames for strength while Lucy talked of battle plans for the day to come. But not before the dragons had found them and torn the building apart. 

Natsu…there’s something I need to tell you…

Natsu thumped the side of his head with a fist. What did she want to tell him? The flash of pain in her eyes had been so unbearable. To Lucy, they’d already been defeated. Or maybe it was the fear that he’d seen there. Or maybe it was something else. Something he didn’t understand. 

‘Get away from there, Juvia!’

Natsu straightened. 

‘No! Juvia will protect you, Gray-Sama!’

Bolting out of the building, Natsu skidded to a halt as roaring flames came surging out of the darkness, enveloping Juvia in their heat. Steam, supposedly from Juvia’s body, drifted up in waves through the sky, before scattering like rain over the ashen land.

Gray crumpled to his knees in the distance, just out of Natsu’s reach. That didn’t stop him from trying though. Charging on ahead, Natsu lifted a hand and screamed for Gray to stand up. A dragon loomed close in the distance.

Gray didn’t move. It was as though, in that moment, time had frozen to a halt. And when Natsu finally reached that spot, Gray was gone. Like a ghost he could no longer see.

‘I told you to stay close to me, Levy!’

‘I can’t leave them! Jet and Droy! They’re hurt!’

‘They’re dead!’ a voice screamed. ‘And you will be too if you don’t hurry up!’

Whipping around, Natsu spotted Gajeel hurrying along in the distance, Levy slumped against his side. The two ran into a veil of smoke and disappeared at the other side. 

Rubbing his eyes, Natsu stared at the dust at his feet. There were no footprints. No signs that Gray had ever been there at all. No signs that Gajeel and Levy had ever passed him.

What was going on?

A chill swept its way up his spine as the familiar beating of wings passed overhead. The dragon scanned the area with its black eyes before carrying on its journey through the darkness, without ever glancing in Natsu’s direction. 

‘Natsu!’

This time, it was Lucy’s voice that cleaved its way through the darkness. He couldn’t see her, but her voice was so close, like an echo in his heart. Falling to his knees, Natsu slammed a fist onto the ground, scattering a cloud of dust into the air. Holding his breath as the wind took it away, Natsu stared through watery eyes at the hint of a sign sitting there at his feet.

Fairy Tail.

Tears dripped onto his cheeks. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. It was as though all the strength in his body had been sapped from his muscles. From his veins.

That’s when he saw it – something wedged underneath the sign. It was about the size of a finger and equally as slender. Giving it a tug, Natsu yanked it free of the sign and nearly retched at what he found.

No, it wasn’t like a finger. It was a finger. A hand. Natsu recognised the dismembered hand he’d pulled free of the rubble. Lucy’s guild mark stared back at him from pallid skin.

A scream tore from the depths of his throat.

No. Not her guild mark. Not that. Anything but that. 

Clutching the hand to his chest, Natsu stared at the silhouettes of dragons leaving him in the dust. Clenching a fist at his side, he let out another bloodcurdling scream.

‘Take me!’ he screamed. ‘Don’t hurt her anymore! Don’t take away the things she loves!’

The sky above him opened up, as though in answer to his call. A blinding light poured in through the gaping hole, enveloping him in an unusual warmth. When the light finally faded, Natsu was no longer standing in the rubble of Magnolia Town. The sun beat down on a golden plain that stretched on for miles on either side of him. He stared into the clear sky, listening to the hum of the wind in his ears. Then he glanced down at his hands, both of which were empty.

Lucy’s hand was gone. 

‘Natsu?’ it was a woman’s voice. ‘If you’re here…then that means…’

Natsu glanced over his shoulder to find Erza standing behind him.

‘Where’s here?’ he asked. 

‘Somewhere in-between,’ Erza said, forcing herself to smile. ‘We’re not dead. But we’re not quite alive, either. Something appears to be wrong. It’s as though we’re stuck here, between time. Or something like that.’

‘Stuck between time?’ Natsu’s head hurt. ‘What’re you talking about?’

‘I spent all of my magical energy on the battlefield,’ Erza explained. ‘When I awoke, I was still in Magnolia, but the dragons no longer seemed interested in me. That’s when I realised something was wrong. For a time, I could do nothing but watch my comrades fall around me, none of them able to hear my pleas. It felt as though time had been distorted.’

‘Is Lucy here?’

‘No. There are others, though. So far I’ve found six of our guild mates. Gray and Juvia are among them. Gajeel is the most recent to arrive.’ 

Natsu shivered with sudden realisation. He’d watched Juvia die with his own eyes, though it had felt almost surreal, as though he’d been dreaming. And Gajeel…

That was when the truth finally hit him: the truth that he was already dead. And that he might never see Lucy again. She was out there, somewhere, alive and all alone. One by one, the dragons were picking off their guild mates, leaving them without protection. Leaving them without hope.

Spinning on his heel, Natsu was jerked back by a pair of arms before he could set into motion. Gajeel wrestled him back against him, holding him still. Tears trickled onto Natsu’s face.

‘Send me back!’ he screamed. ‘Send me back! I have to save her! I have to be with her! Lucy! Lucy! She’s all alone! Let me go!’

Erza’s fist connected with his stomach, sending a wash of pain running through him. ‘As long as she isn’t here, that means she’s alive! You can’t do anything for her now!’

Natsu dropped to one knee, defeated and filled to the brink with an agony that made his marrow ache and his soul shiver with regret. 

‘I have to…I have to help her…’ he panted, succumbing to the weight of his injuries. ‘I’m sorry. Lucy, I’m sorry.’

‘You didn’t have to hit him so hard,’ Gajeel said. ‘I’ve got him.’

Erza’s voice was a distant whisper in the back of Natsu’s mind. ‘It’s better than him running off. We still don’t know where we are.’

‘We’re dead,’ Gajeel sniped. ‘Ain’t much else to it.’

Dead? How could he be dead. He’d promised her. He’d promised that he would be there to protect her. 

‘What’re we gonna do?’ Natsu recognised Gray’s voice through the blur of pain in his mind. 

‘We’ll wait here for the others,’ Erza said. ‘That’s all we can do.’ 

Lucy…

As darkness took him, Natsu thought of Lucy’s face one last time. 

I’ll lend you…my strength.

X-Files Fic: What Was Taken, What Was Lost- Chapter Two

Chapter one is here.





The chill is what wakes Mulder, along with the sounds of the storm outside, much louder than they should be from inside the hotel room.  He sits up, shivering, and sees that across the room, the French doors to the balcony are standing ajar.  The blizzard is still going strong outside, and the wind is blowing snow into the room.  Mulder leaps out of bed and runs over, stubbing his toe on the leg of the bed and swearing loudly, and pushes the doors closed again, latching them securely.

Stepping back, he rubs his hands over his unclothed arms.  While the room is frigid, the carpet beneath his bare feet isn’t very wet, which tells him that the doors couldn’t have been open long, otherwise much more snow would have blown in.  The latch is a sturdy one, and an experimental jiggle of the handle reveals that it’s not loose.  Did whoever closed it last not pull it completely shut, allowing the wind to blow it open?  He doesn’t remember Scully opening it at any point since their arrival, and he knows that he hadn’t opened it.  Maybe housekeeping had failed to latch it properly?

As he’s standing there thinking, staring out into the whirling flakes, there’s a soft snuffle from the bed, and he turns to look at Scully.  She’s fast asleep, curled on her side facing outward, and the covers have slipped down to her waist.  She’ll be cold, Mulder thinks to himself, and he tiptoes quietly to her side and pulls the blankets up over her shoulders, tucking them gently around her.  She sighs softly in her sleep, and he smiles.

 Thump.

He jumps at the sound, which he thinks came from the hallway.  It’s not a particularly loud noise; it’s as though something has been dropped on thick carpeting.  He wonders if another guest, wandering the halls at night, is out there… but he hears no footsteps.  Frowning, he crosses to the door and eases it open, sticking his head out into the hallway.

Keep reading

I was bored on my way to uni, so I decided to mull over some fake banter between Asala (the elf-blooded teenage daughter of one of my Qunari Inquisitors, Taashath Adaar) and the companions, should she tag along on missions.

 ***

Asala: So you’re like the Qunari-Qunari, are you? All right and proper?

Bull: [chuckles] Oh, I am seldom proper, kid. But yes, I follow the Qun.

Asala: You know, my Da’s not that different from you.

Bull: [grunts disapprovingly]

Asala: No, but you see: you’d think he’d be able to do anything he wants without you Bennies watching over him? Well, nah! With a face and horns like those, you can only be a merc, and nothing else! It’s like a role - only instead of the Qun, it’s assigned to you by humans, and you can never escape! You can’t be an artist, or a baker, or a tailor… Did you know that my Da is actually great at making lace? He…

Taashath: Asala!

Asala: Fine, fine… Shutting up.

Bull: [thoughtfully to himself] Bennies…

***

Cassandra: When I was your age, I had already spent many years training as a Seeker.

Asala: Is that why you are so uptight? Jealous that I get to have fun and you didn’t?

Cassandra: [disgusted noise] My point is that you could at least try learning to be more disciplined. Your father worries about you; it… it distracts him from his duties.

Asala: Yeah, well, so do you, but you don’t see me prattling to you about discipline, yeah?

Varric (if in party): Hah! Good retort, Braids!

Cassandra: I… I don’t know what you mean… How could I possibly…

Asala: Go discipline your cheekbones, Lady Seeker. They are too distracting.

***

Vivienne: If I were you, my dear, I’d spend less time around that Sera character.

Sera (if in party): She’s not a baby, yeah? She can pick whatever friends she likes, with no help from bossy bitches like you!

Vivienne: All those… unseemly pranks, races around the keep in the middle of the night - and you are picking up some of her mannerisms, too! That is quite unbecoming for the Inquisitor’s daughter.

Asala: But I swear I saw you smile when I did that thing to Cullen!

Vivienne: It was… mildly amusing, yes - but that is not my point, darling.

(If Sera is in party) Asala and Sera together: No breeches!

***

Asala: Hey, can I poke you for a moment?

Solas: Not in the literal sense, I hope?

Sera (if in party): Aww look, Master Egghead is still upset about the tadpoles in his mug!

Asala: No… I just thought you might look at this for me. It’s, um, a bracelet - but I can’t put it on cuz my wrists are too big, so I wear it on a chain like an amulet of sorts. It belonged to my mother.

Solas: It has… Elvhen writing on it.

Asala: Sure it does! My mother was an elf!

Sera (if in party): Eww, I knew you were part elfy, but I never figured you’d be hold-on-to-weird-junk sorta elfy!

Solas: And I suppose you want me to translate it for you? Very well. I shall examine it when we are in a quieter place.

***

Sera (if she was in party during the previous banter): Hey, ‘bout last time. I… I sorta take it back and all. You are all right, even with the elfy junk bits!

Taashath: You make it sound like she should be ashamed of her mother!

Sera: Whoah, don’t go all red-eyed on me!

Asala: Da, she didn’t mean anything by it.

Sera: Sure I did! I meant s'all good!

Taashath: Hmph. All the same, think before you talk next time.

Vivienne (if in party): Sometimes you are impossibly demanding, my dear.

***

Solas: That inscription on your mother’s bracelet - it is a prayer to Mythal. I translated the whole text and sent my notes up to your quarters.

Asala: Oh, thanks Egg… I mean Solas. After all these years, we’ll finally know what it means! Even my mother herself could only make out a couple of words. Right, Da?

Taashath: Yes. Most of the folks in Liliel’s alienage could barely read common, let alone the language of the ancient elves.

Solas: That is… Most unfortunate.

Sera (if in party): Ya know what’s unfortunate? Going this long without food! I think I’ll go shoot a ram or somethin’.

***

Asala: You know, Blackwall, the way you go on, I could make a sport of dangling off a cliff to see who runs faster to catch me, you or Da.

Taashath: Don’t even think about it!

Blackwall: Your safety is not a joking matter!

Asala: Ugh, why do you never loosen up around me? Is it something about my face? My voice? Me being taller than you?

Blackwall: You are the Inquisitor’s child. My first duty is to protect you.

Asala: This child is seven-bloody-teen years old, thank you very much.

Blackwall: I thought your father said you had only turned sixteen recently.

Asala: I’ll get back on that when you’re less boring.

***

Asala: Hey Bull, are there singers under the Qun? Or writers?

Bull: That what you wanna be, kid?

Asala: Yeah, kinda… But have you ever seen a Vashoth singer anywhere?

Bull: Can’t say I have. Unless you count drunken singing in taverns.

Asala: Do you think the Qunari Tama… things would have picked the right role for me? The role that matches what I wanna do with my life?

Taashath: Don’t put any ideas into her head, Bull!

Bull: Wasn’t going to, boss. Like I said, the Qun is not for everyone. That teenage rebellion thing your kid likes doing - probably wouldn’t end well.

***

Varric: These poems you write, Braids - they are pretty good.

Asala: Wow, really?

Varric: You actually make the words rhyme without making the whole thing seem like one of those grating kiddy songs.

Asala: Hah, I don’t suppose there are too many kiddy songs about gravestones and doomed lovers and such.

Taashath: About that… I could never get why you have to make all your stuff so dark!

Varric: She’s a teenager, Floofy. Writing dark poetry is part of her job description. But unlike some teenagers, she is actually good at it.

***

Cassandra: I… I happened to be passing by when Varric was looking at your last poem, and accidentally glanced over his shoulder.

Asala: Oh? So now you’re gonna tell me that poetry’s undisciplined too?

Cassandra: No, I just… Why did that woman’s husband have to die?

Asala: So she’d mourn him and break the reader’s heart?

Varric (if in party): Don’t bother, Braids. The Seeker only accepts happily-ever-afters.

Cassandra: That is… the most ludicrous reasoning I ever heard! Besides, she had plenty of opportunity to come to his aid in that battle! If she had flanked the enemies that he had engaged…

Asala: She isn’t based on you, you know. Because that would mean her hubby’s based on Da, and I can’t kill off my own father!

Cassandra: [disgusted noise]

***

Dorian: I hear you made quite a scene at the execution site.

Asala: Hah, I sure did! Shame you weren’t there to see it!

Dorian: I deemed drinking myself witless to be a far more pleasant pastime than watching your father cut off my former mentor’s head.

Taashath: Dorian, we’ve been over this.

Dorian: With you, yes. But not with the girl. She deserves a personal thank you for standing up to a certain valiant leader.

Asala: I am great at that. Years of practice.

(Some time later)

Dorian: I wonder… What exactly did you say to change his mind?

Asala: Well, Da ranted on and on about how your hooded friend turned me into a dead chunk of red lyrium in the bad future, and how hurt and angry he was. And I said, 'So now you know how he is feeling!’. And then Da made this droopy face he is making now and…

Taashath: Will you two please change the subject?

Dorian: Very well. Pray tell me, young Asala, what are your sentiments towards grapes?

***

Cole: Flowing, rhythmic patterns, cryptic but beautiful, how does he do it? You… You really like the way I talk?

Asala: Of course I do! It’s like you’re brimming over with poetry all the time!

Cole: I just try to sort through things I hear. It’s hard sometimes, when people are so solid and are hurting too loudly. I… may not make a lot of sense.

Asala: Hey, I don’t make a lot of sense either! We can start a club!

***

Blackwall: And then he said: but at least the turkey still has its tail!

Asala: Hah, finally! I knew you were not completely hopeless! What a great un-boring story!

Blackwall: It’s from my old army days.

Asala: Huh, I thought army humour would be dirtier.

Blackwall: It is. I had to censor it somewhat so your father wouldn’t kill me.

(Some time later)

Asala: What about Grey Warden humour? Is it dirty too?

Blackwall: Well… The thing is, by the time I joined the Wardens, I had lost some of my boyish penchant for amusing tales.

Asala: Too bad… Well, army humour it is, then! Do I get to hear the uncensored version when I turn eighteen?

Taashath: Asala!

***

(After the cutscene where Dorian tells Taashath that Felix died)

Dorian: It was you, wasn’t it?

Asala: Salt sprinkles on Josie’s chocolate? Yeah, it was me. But I only added a little!

Dorian: No, I mean that poem on Alexius’ desk. The one about the man who planted a tree and then, when it withered, remembered how he had sat in its shade? He told me about it this morning.

Asala: I have no idea what you’re talking about! Trees! Shade! I’d never write such sappy nonsense!

Dorian: You brought the man who almost destroyed the world to the verge of tears. That is quite an accomplishment, young lady - and I say that as an incredibly accomplished person myself.

***

Asala: So… You and Da - did you do the bnb thing or what?

Cassandra: Bnb? What manner of teenage jargon is this?

Asala: Oh, you know… Birds and bees.

Cassandra: Birds and… Oh! Oh, I see!

Taashath: Asala, leave the Lady Seeker alone!

Asala: Still Lady Seeker, huh? So I guess you didn’t do it… What’s stopping you? I mean, you have the hots for each other - it’s sooo obvious!

Taashath: Asala, stop this - or so help me, when we return to Skyhold, you’re grounded!

***

Cole: Woke up from a nightmare again. Demons, calling, clawing, constricting; Uldred’s eyes, bottomlessly black, suddenly not two but a dozen; Meredith bathed in crimson. And then - soft, soothing, shimmering, rainbows dancing over his bed. It had been so long since he started the morning with a smile.

Taashath: What are you talking about, Cole?

Asala: We put shards of coloured glass into the holes in Cullen’s ceiling. Now they both protect him from the rain and give off pretty light!

Taashath: Wait, have you been climbing the roof?

Cole: She didn’t fall. She didn’t die. Today is another day when she didn’t die.

Asala: Yeah… Thanks for this cheery thought, Cole.

Cole: It wasn’t me. It was your father.

***

Dorian: The books I ordered from Tevinter have finally arrived.

Asala: Does this mean you’ll give me a lesson tonight?

Dorian: Of course. You already have those Orlesian volumes, don’t you? Southern historians are biased against Tevinter; our historians are biased against the rest of the world… It will be educational to pit them against one another.

Asala: And fun!

Taashath: Wait, did my daughter just call learning fun?

Dorian: Why the tone of surprise? What did you try to teach her?

Taashath: How to run a merc company.

Dorian: Well, there you have it!

***

Asala: Um, Cassandra… If you hesitate about Da because of me - please don’t.

Cassandra: Because of you?

Asala: Yeah, like… If you worry that I’ll hate you for stealing him and replacing my mother and all.

Cassandra: Nothing could be further from my mind! Even if my relationship with the Inquisitor wasn’t strictly professional!

Asala: Well, in case it ever stops being 'strictly professional’ - I don’t even remember my mother. Da raised me alone. And I actually think it’d be good for him to have someone in his life. Take care of the stupid old fella and all.

Taashath: I heard that!

***

(After Taashath saves the Chargers)

Asala: Hey, Bull… Don’t look so glum! Remember that time you said the Qun isn’t for everyone? Maybe it wasn’t for you too. It just took you this long to figure out.

Bull: Hmph. And what do you suppose is for me then?

Asala: Maryden put some of my poems to music. She’ll be singing them tonight at the tavern. Krem will come, and the other Chargers. I think if you come too, you’ll understand what is for you.

Bull: Huh, I think you spend too much time round Cole. That cryptic shit is beginning to rub off.

Taashath: Bull, what did I tell you?

Bull: Oh, right, boss - don’t swear in front of the kid! Fuck, I’m sorry!

***

(After Revelations)

Asala: You know, it’s kinda funny.

Blackwall: What is?

Asala: I heard stories about the Grey Wardens plenty of times when I was a kid, with the Blight having recently ended and all. And when I met you, you were just like I imagined the Grey Wardens should be.

Blackwall: And now… I have disappointed you.

Asala: What? No! The Grey Wardens are gonna disappoint me from now on, if they don’t pull off all this amazing noble-warrior-atoning-for-his-past stuff!

Blackwall: You… You don’t know the whole story, do you?

Asala: I know enough to believe that you deserve sticking around with our Inquisition. And you can always tell me the uncensored version when I am eighteen, right?

***

Cassandra: Are you feeling better now? Have you asked Vivienne for a potion?

(If Vivienne is in party) Vivienne: She has indeed, my dear. But such things are generally not discussed in public.

(Otherwise) Asala: Sure! But do we… do we have to discuss my darkspawn week in front of everyone?

Cassandra: I just wanted to make sure you were all right.

Asala: Aww, thanks, mom.

Cassandra: You do not have to call me ’m'am’.

Asala: I wasn’t.

***

(After Last Resort of Good Men)

Asala: Damn, Dorian.

Dorian: Was that expletive a sign of admiration for my good looks?

Asala: I mean… My Da yells at me sometimes, and tries to punish me when I mess up… And this makes me think that he is the meanest person in the world… But it’s nothing like what you went through, is it?

Dorian: Oh, there were plenty of temper tantrums on my part too.

Asala: And for good reason! Me, I’m just a selfish teenager who wants attention - but you… You are amazing and you deserve better!

Dorian: You are not exactly worthless yourself, young lady.

***

(After Bring Me the Heart of Snow White)

Vivienne: Bastien’s family shall be holding a musical salon as a tribute to both himself and his wife. I would very much like it if you attended, my dear.

Asala: Whaa- ? Really?

Vivienne: If your father gives you permission, of course. You have such a wonderful singing voice; it is wasted in the courtyards and bath houses of Skyhold.

Asala: But… Won’t they be scared of me being… me? Unless you give me a mask to wear, I suppose.

Vivienne: It will be a half-face mask only; otherwise how would you sing?

Asala: Oh.

Vivienne: Being who you are ought to be a source of strength, not weakness. Always remember that, darling.

Favorite Mon-El Funny Moment:

Okay. There are so many gloriously funny Mon-El moments in Season 2 of Supergirl that it took me half of forever to make a decision, but I’m going to go with Double Date: Creepy Journalism Edition as my final answer, because Mon-El is just so doggone ridiculous in it and I love it.

While he’s reliably goofy and entertaining in every single episode, his seven +/- minutes of screen time in 2x18 stick out to me in bold-faced type when I think back on the season.  I loved “Ace Reporter,” and the whole restaurant sequence is one of the biggest reasons why.

First off, Mon-El is the yin to Kara’s yang. He may not be an experienced hero, but he’s calm and clearheaded during scenarios that freak her out/get her dander up, and this is one of those times. She’s so focused on learning the answers, finding the truth, protecting Lena from a suspected killer, that she doesn’t even notice how her “I have passion, Winn! A lot of it” brand of intensity is making the situation really awkward. 

Like…r e a l l y awkward.

Mon-El does, because he’s a very sociable guy. He’s now been on Earth long enough to start picking up on certain cues, and he knows even before they take off for the restaurant that there’s something not quite polite about the way Kara wants to crash Lena’s date with Jack—she insists it’s what journalists do, he expresses his doubts but accompanies her anyway, and once they arrive, he watches Lena and Jack and sees not only how very unwanted he and Kara are at this particular moment, but how Kara is bound and determined to interrogate Jack. So he sits back and nods and smiles, and dies slowly on the inside like you do when you know you’re third-wheeling and so do the first and second wheels, but everyone’s too polite to do anything other than hint at it.

Until it becomes too much, and he realizes that someone has to do something. So, in typical Mon-El fashion, he doesn’t spend a lot of time forming a plan. He just acts. Who cares if Lena, Jack, and the entire restaurant think he’s odd, and maybe a little creepy? Kara’s suspicious of Jack, she wants to investigate, and to investigate, they’ll need a way in, right? He has an idea on how to get them that way in.

Mannection, anyone?

Personally, I love his method. It’s a classic honeypot/femme fatale maneuver—really, Mae West of “Come up and see me sometime” fame would approve—and it works because he’s so committed to it that it throws Jack for a loop. You can actually see Jack thinking, “Okay, what the <insert four-letter word of your choice here> is going on?” and “Dude, isn’t your girlfriend sitting right over there?” 

It’s the kind of scenario I adore, because not only does everyone have an absolutely hilarious reaction to Mon’s little charm show (I LOVE watching everyone in the background of this scene), but the humor works as a wink-and-nod inversion of gender roles in cheesy detective flicks: you’ve got the business-minded investigator and the along-for-the-ride assistant who’s always prepared to use flirting as a distraction technique, but in this case, the investigator is female and the assistant is male. 

That’s icing on the cake, though. 

The beauty of this scene is that on a basic level, it’s just plain funny. It works, because no one outside of Mon-El has any idea what’s happening. Not Kara, not Jack, not Lena, not us. At its core, comedy is about entertainment. The goal is to make people laugh, or at least cheer them up, and and that’s achieved through a disappointment or upending of expectations. But that’s if you want to get all fancy about it. Bottom line: 

I love this scene because it cracks me up. Mon-El cracks me up. The whole thing is ludicrously awkward, and I love it. Chris Wood does well in dramatic scenes, but in my opinion, comedy is where he really shines. His timing is great, his facial expressions are hilarious, and he can make something as simple as a movement funny. 

Like during this scene, which produced my favorite Supergirl gif ever (yes, I rank this gif above all the kiss gifs, and I’m not even a little embarrassed about that):

Frankly, if I could get some more undercover Mike Matthews moments like this in Season 3, I would be a very happy camper.

(Neither gif I used is mine. I found them in the black hole that is a random google search, so thanks to whoever created them.)

Half Bitten:


Prologue

Scenario: A vampire!Jimin AU

Genre: Jimin x Reader

Words: 2450

Disclaimer: As always, the gifs are not mine and belong to their rightful owners!

Your day was spent with weak attempts at shaking the dream. The early morning shower to wash away the lingering feeling of hands spreading your thighs and dog teeth puncturing holes below your breasts with soapy hands and nails. Most of all, you tried to rid your body of the ecstasy it brought you every time you remembered it, leaving your fingers to delve between your folds and come underneath the spray of water from the showerhead.

Your reflection in the mirror all dark circles and heavy lids as you brushed your teeth mumbling curses against its bristles. You knew your friends were sure to mention it.

When you bent down to spit out the water downed paste, a scream left you launching you back from the sink. The face of the unknown man staring back at you, shirtless, with hands bracing himself against its edges.

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God of Destruction

Words: 7434

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Light Smut. 

Summary: Everything he touches breaks; except for you.

Once upon a time…

There was a witch who fell in love with the King and some say the two were deeply in love. But for the throne and for riches, the King instead married a beautiful girl, a princess of a nearby land. Angered, the witch returned years later and cursed their only son for eternity; an infant whom the town was celebrating the birth of.

She looks at the innocent child in the cradle. “For your father who was willing to give up love for the touch of gold…” She turns to the King, boring eyes into his. “This child that was born a day before the ides; everything that it lays its hands on will be withered, destroyed, turned to dust and ashes.”

The townspeople gathered around the castle hall, screech in horror. “GUARDS!” The King shouts ruthlessly, pointing to the witch. “KILL HER!”

The witch sends a fleeting smile to the King, tears in her eyes as she murmurs past parted lips.

“The only cure…is true love’s death.”

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