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Some TLJ TV Tropes
  • Anti Climax: Who are Rey’s parents really? Kylo reveals they’re nobody junkers who sold their child for some drinking money and eventually died in a ditch. In the end, it was only ever her desire to be a good person and help those in need, like BB-8, that really mattered.
  • Back-to-Back Badasses: Rey and Kylo Ren fight the Praetorian Guards this way. At one point Rey grabs onto him and leans on his back for leverage. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
  • Dangerous Forbidden Technique: When Rey and Kylo Ren first experience the Psychic Link, Kylo seems to mistake it for astral projection and comments that Rey can’t be doing it because the strain of it would kill her. Later, Luke uses this technique to fool Kylo into thinking he’s actually on Crait, and the strain of it does kill him, though he ascends as a Force ghost.
  • Distracted by the Sexy: Rey’s visibly flustered when she sees Kylo Ren shirtless, combining with Please Put Some Clothes On.
  • Do Not Call Me “Paul”: Kylo Ren was unhappy when Han called him "Ben”, but notably, when Rey starts addressing him as such, he doesn’t seem to mind.
  • Foreshadowing: Kylo Ren mentions that the strain of using Astral Projection would kill Rey. Later, Luke doing so to distract the First Order leads to his death.
  • Good Colors, Evil Colors: Rey has gone from her tan/white outfit at the start of The Force Awakens to a grey outfit in the opening of this film, to a grey and dark brown version as the film goes on, signaling her continuing loss of innocence as she delves deeper into the ways of the Force.
  • Good Scars, Evil Scars: Played with. Despite Rey cutting a large wound into his face with a lightsaber in the last film, the conflicted Kylo Ren has a clean, thin scarline going from his brow to his jaw and down around his right chest, rather than a large ugly one — at least after the medical droids are done with the giant burn we see early on. This is in contrast to the outright evil Big Bad, Supreme Leader Snoke, who has large disfiguring scars all over his face and body. Subverted when Kylo winds up supplanting Snoke.
  • Held Gaze: Kylo and Rey do this a lot, whether it be talking through their Force Bond to locking eyes immediately after Rey arrives aboard Snoke’s ship to pleading the other to join their side. The camera particularly likes zooming in on their faces and/or eyes at these moments.
  • Villain Redeeming Himself Through Love? Kylo Ren’s affection for Rey only convinces him that they can only count on each other. He kills Snoke not because he has turned to the Light, but because he wants him and Rey to co-rule as Supreme Leaders of the First Order.
  • Jedi Mind Trick: Kylo Ren tries a particularly unsubtle one on Rey (“You WILL bring Luke Skywalker to me.”). Rey, not being weak-willed, is completely unaffected.
  • Breaking the Fourth Wall: Kylo forces Rey to admit something she knew all along, deep down; her parents were just random nobodies who aren’t relevant to “this story”.
  • Lonely Together: Rey and Kylo Ren end up empathizing with each other due to a shared sense of loneliness.
  • Shipper on Deck: Rey potentially ships Finn×Rose, judging by her small smile when she sees Finn hovering anxiously over Rose’s bedside.



Me in St. Louis

lesquatrechevrons  asked:

As per your post... prompt: jerejean at hogwarts, brewing either potions or up to no good. Prompt: more Andreil from that non magical hitman in a world of wizards AU where there is more background about the world or more dancing around each other. Prompt: young Kevin day and stealing cookies (or eating the dough or making them). You are awesome, your writing is life, you come up with some amazing AUs I'd love to read all from, etc etc

heeeeey nate & aj

When Andrew arrives back at the Wesninski house, he isn’t alone. He has Kevin with him, but that’s not who he’s referring to. There are at least three people gathered on the front lawn of the mansion, dark figures against the blue-purple tongues of mage-fire crawling up the walls.

“Fuck,” Kevin whispers, big-eyed. Attempted murder by arson isn’t exactly his scene, for all mages are all caught up in murder and intrigue, for all he’s one of them.

It is Andrew’s, though. And seeing as Wymack and the others are very, very keen to bring Nathaniel into the fold, he supposes that makes these mages Andrew’s enemies.

Shockingly, no one gets high up in the assassination game without some black-and-white thinking.

Guns aren’t his weapon of choice, but they do the trick. It’s easy to pick the silent mages off from a distance, the crack of bullets leaving the chamber barely audible over the growing roar of the fire. 

They fall. The flames don’t die, and Kevin curses again.

“I can break the binding, but I can’t stop the fire as well,” he rushes out, jerking to his feet in Andrew’s wake. He’s impatient, has been since he listened to Andrew tell him Nathaniel’s message, mixed in with his usual fear. It draws his body tight as he hurries to a spot on the lawn which seems to Andrew exactly the same as the rest of it, falling to one knee. He’s probably doing something, but Andrew can’t tell.

“Fine,” he replies, and kicks at the front door until the frame crumbles.

Mage-fire isn’t all that different from regular fire - he has to leap back to avoid immolation as the flames, blue-purple merging to regular red-orange, meet the oxygen outside. Andrew is immune to all kinds of magic, but he can die of burns and smoke inhalation and a falling ceiling just like anyone else.

He pulls his shirt collar over his face and jumps through the fire, clattering onto the warping wood floor of Nathan Wesninski’s grand entrance room. The flames flake off of him when he pushes at them with his bare hands, hot but too much magic to really touch him. The mages are dead, and magic is transformative at the roots, so he doesn’t think it’ll last.

Better hurry, Nathaniel had said. Offer ends if I’m dead. The magic doesn’t need to change at all to hurt a mage. He could be dead already.

Andrew hopes not. He doesn’t like to waste his time.

He goes for the kitchen first on a hunch, and is paid off by tripping over a shape in the haze. When he reaches down to feel for a pulse, his wrist is grabbed by another hand, streaked grey and red.

Andrew grabs the arm attached to the hand and hauls Nathaniel up into the light. He’s reeling, eyes half-closed, and he coughs into Andrew’s face. Charming, really.

Well, Andrew didn’t come inside to drop the man back on the ground and leave again. He slings Nathaniel’s arm over his shoulders and half-carries him towards the kitchen window. Overhead the structure of the house is audibly failing, groaning and shifting, an awful cacophony. 

There’s a large and hideously ugly horse-head statue sitting on the kitchen bench, useless in every situation except for Andrew picking it up and throwing it through the glass. It explodes outwards, the change in pressure making Andrew’s ears pop.

Nathaniel is taller than Andrew but he doesn’t weigh much when Andrew hefts him up to stuff him out through the window. The problem is that, despite the fact there’s nothing to stop him, it’s like pushing a person against a solid wall.

Fucking magic. Fucking Kevin. Fucking Nathaniel Wesninski, whose promises aren’t worth anything near this level of trouble.

The man in question has his eyes open now, looking square into Andrew’s face. He says, voice brutal from the smoke, “I told you I can’t leave.”

If Andrew gets any satisfaction from the way the invisible pressure holding Nathaniel snaps in the next moment, sending a surprised mage tumbling out of his grip and into the garden, then he’s the only one who knows about it.

He puts a knee onto the bench and follows, glass nicking his hands and collecting in his clothes as he drops mostly not on top of Nathaniel. Nathaniel has gone loose in the dirt, but he’s not unconscious. Andrew is at the precise distance to feel his relieved breath blow onto his throat.

It’s not the relief of escaping a burning building. It’s the relief Andrew is deaf to, the kind that has Nathaniel’s eyes glowing a brasher, brighter blue than exists in nature.

They’re still half-tangled when Nathaniel raises a hand towards the house and closes his fingers into a fist.

Like that, everything is gone - the fire, the light and the heat. It’s just smoke, rising into the suddenly black sky.

The house groans, and there’s an almighty crash as part of the roof crumbles.

Fucking magic.

“Ow,” Nathaniel says, vaguely accusatory. Then his eyes roll back into his head and he faints.

“AJ,” Nate says, years later, when the burns on his arms are scarred silver and don’t bother him at all anymore. He’s smiling, not generous but with his usual bladed sense of humour. “You ran into a burning building for me once.”

“And look how that turned out,” Andrew tells him, because really.

Mind Fields | Halloween Edition

M: Jungkook/ R; Genre: Devil/ Incubus! Au, fluff, angst; Words: 3.1k; Warnings: none

Requested:  Could I please request Devil/ Incubus with Jungkook?

A/N: Sorry for taking ages to write this but I’m glad I finally got to it! Sorry for any major grammar mistakes I just wanted to get this out as quick as I could:/

Up Next: Beach Bummer: Tae Edition

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Iron Man & Mrs. King (10/?)

Pairing: Tony x Reader
Word Count: 1,312
Warnings: Domestic Abuse, fluff, some swearing. JARVIS is still an AI, Bucky is part of the team.
Chapters post on Mondays and Thursdays.

Originally posted by fanfic-shiz

9:30am Saturday Morning, Stark Tower

Tony’s mouth open and closed a couple of times trying to formulate an answer for Y/N when Nat walked into the room, coughing into her elbow.

“Morning everyone,” she said softly as she got a cup of coffee and sat at the counter on the other side of Y/N. “Steve’s making pancakes? Nice! How are you feeling this morning, Y/N?”

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Having fun with the hound


You had heard a lot of stories about the hound, Sandor Clegane. He is the ugliest man in whole Westeros, other people had told you, and of course you know the brutal story of his scars as well: His brother, the mountain, had pushed Sandor into a fireplace. Since then, gross and large scars adorn the right side of his face, no hair or eyebrows left. But the man in front of you had wavy, long hair in a dark-brownish color, and a beard which covered at least the bottom half of his left side. Of course, his scars really weren’t beautiful, but they weren’t gross either. Just scars, nothing more, nothing less.

“Beer?”, you asked him with a smile on your face and he nodded. “Your name is Sandor Clegane, right?”


“I heard a lot of stories about you”, you told him.


“Guests talked about a monster, a large and ugly man with terrible scars”

“Aye, that’s what they always say. It’s true.” Sandor seemed displeased.

“It’s not”, you answered and smiled softly. “I only see a brave, big man.” He laughed.

“You are drunk, aren’t you? You drank too much of your own beer”, he said.

“Drunk people are always saying the truth. At least, that’s what my mother told me.”

“She lied to you, girl.” Then he mumbled something you could not understand. You placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked at you in surprise.

“What are you doing?”, he wanted to know. His voice was harsh.

“Trying to cheer you up”, you answered grinning. Guests and friends often called you sunshine, because you were always smiling and happy – Of course you were not always happy, but you liked to pretend. You often felt sad and lonely, and sometimes, you just wanted to cry. But being there for other people made you feel better.

“You can’t cheer me up”, Sandor Clegane told you and took your hand away. “Leave me alone”. You nodded and left. But later, in the evening of the same day, you met Sandor again, when he was standing outside of your tavern and petting his horse, a black and giant stallion.

“What a beautiful horse”, you said to him.

“His name is Stranger”, Sandor explained.

“May I pet him?”

“Be careful.”  

The horse was wild and temperamental, but its fur was warm and soft. You glanced at the owner.

“Why are they calling you the hound?”, you wanted to know.

“Why are you so curious? What do you want from me? You are annoying.” The big man pressed his lips together and looked down at you.

“I am sorry. You seemed lonely and hurt… I just wanted to help you.” And you were fascinated by him; by his size, his look, and his words.

“How do you want to help me?”

“You don’t need to be alone tonight. I… I can lie with you.”

“A you a whore?”


“But you want to lie with me? Although you don’t even know me?” You shrugged your shoulders.

“I like you.” You felt stupid, but you still tried to smile.

“Nobody likes me.”

“You don’t give anyone a real chance to like you.”

“And you think it would be a good idea to lie with me? I would rip you. Fuck you bloody. Do you really want that?” You smiled. Thinking about Sandor fucking you aroused you. You tried to imagine him naked. I bet you are really big, you thought. Every inch of your body wanted him. I want you to fuck me hard, Sandor. You didn’t said it out loud.

“Let’s go to my chamber”, were the only thing you said instead and Sandor followed you quietly.


Even with his scars, Sandor was a handsome man. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed his neck. You had to stand in your tiptoes to kiss him on the mouth, but he didn’t really seemed to like it – He just seemed a little bit confused and still worried. You decided to undress yourself and threw your dress on the floor. He glanced down at you, scrutinized your body.

“Do you like what you see?”, you asked, but he said nothing. Instead, he pressed his lips to yours and kissed you wild and passionate.

“Sandor”, you moaned and placed your hand on the bulk between his legs. His manhood was large and extremely hard and you stroke and rubbed it through the fabric of his pants. 
“I want to fuck you”, Sandor said. “Lay down.”

While you placed yourself onto the bed, Sandor stripped naked and followed you. His body was stunning, muscular with light skin and more scars. You kissed his chest, wandered down to his belly and started licking his member, which was thick and full of prominent veins.

“Stop teasing me”, Sandor grumbled, grabbed you and pushed you down. He spread your legs with his big hands and shoved a finger inside you, fucking you with it. You panted.  
“Fuck me hard”, you told him, and he did. He entered your wet pussy quickly and pinched your nipples with his rough fingers. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down to you to kiss him.

He fucked you, his dick slid in- and out of you, unbelievable fast and hard. Your eyes began to water.

“Sandor”, you cried. “It feels so good.”

The man moaned and grunted and suddenly you felt his cock throbbing. He came inside of you and as he pulled out, his dick was still wet and slobbery and half-hard. You didn’t wanted it to end. The hound looked at you.

“What do you want me to do?”, he asked you.

“Lick me”, you begged. “Please.”

Sandor did you the favor. He kissed your cunt, inserted his tongue into your hole and sucked your clit, until you came with a loud scream. He lied down next to you and you kissed him one last time, before you both fell asleep.  

Adam Driver’s Face

This is my attempt to explain the beauty of Adam Driver’s face: CONTRAST.

Anyone familiar with art principles knows that contrast draws attention and is visually pleasing. It is a tool artists use to direct a viewer’s gaze.

Adam Driver’s face has layers of contrast:

Light/dark: Pale skin contrasts dark hair

(also, light and dark sides of the force for Kylo Ren)

Hard/soft: prominent brow ridge, aquiline nose, pointed chin, and broad shoulders contrast with the flowing curves of his hair, his soft jawline, his rounded ears, and his large, round eyes

Masculine/feminine: masculine features of brow ridge and deep set eyes, adam’s apple (deep voice), large nose, broad shoulders, and facial hair (usually) contrast with feminine features like long eyelashes and large round eyes, paler skin, long wavy hair, fuller soft lips, and a softer jawline

Typical beauty/ugly: Large ears, large nose, long face, contrast with full lips, large eyes, broad shoulders, and luscious hair

The contrast in Adam Driver’s face (and even his personality and most of his characters) is what makes him so appealing. He is strong yet vulnerable. He is intense yet kind. He is awkward yet elegant. He is relatable yet mysterious. He is languid yet bursting with energy. He is intimidating yet endearing. He defies categorization and definition. This is what draws attention to Adam Driver. This is why he has such presence. This is why people can’t stop looking at him.

I also would like to draw special attention to some certain features of interest.

EYES: Huge and watery and deep and dark round surrounded by luscious dark lashes. Both size and roundness draw attention and create interest.

EARS: Their roundness flows perfectly into the waves of his hair.

LIPS: Pink and full and beautiful.

BEAUTY MARKS: Both endearing and beautiful. They add additional contrast to his pale skin and adds variety and interest to the symmetry of his face.

FACE LENGTH: A long face adds an additional height illusion to his already impressive height. Both his long face and height give him a thinness that contrasts with the bulky muscles of his perfectly toned body.

And now, there is just one last reason Adam Driver’s face is so beautiful: he has a unicorn soul, a heart of gold, and a reflective mind of bottomless depth. Like, he is just a really great person and you can see it in his eyes, okay?

the-darkesthour  asked:

Prompt: Felicity gives birth/their first night with their daughter or son. I love baby fic ^^

a/n: thank you for the prompt! i love baby fics tooooo and this lil drabble was fun. happy holidays! // felicityollies’ follower appreciation fics

buy me a coffee?

Felicity closed her eyes for a few moments as she snuggled into the couch. Home at last. Only a few days ago she had been in the bunker when she went into labor. The team was well prepared, but it was still difficult not to send several adults into a panic when a baby was suddenly on the way. Especially when the father was out on the field.

Several hours of labor, a large and ugly needle, and some shouting at her husband later and they were welcoming their beautiful baby girl into the world.

Chloe Ada Smoak-Queen. Six pounds and five ounces. The smallest tuft of blonde hair and her mother’s blue eyes.

The newborn gurgled in her grasp.

She peaked her eyes open and peered down at her. Chloe stared back with her big curious eyes. It was so strange to see so much of herself and Oliver in this tiny human being. Her own eyes, but Oliver’s nose. She was excited to see how their daughter was going to grow and change, become her own person.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

Chloe blew a spit bubble at her.

Felicity snorted, “Even when you do that.”

She stroked her chubby cheek with the back of her forefinger. There was no doubt in her mind Chloe was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen. She almost couldn’t believe she and Oliver had created this little wonder.

Felicity sniffled.

“Hey,” Oliver’s voice filled her ears, “I’m back with your burrito… are you okay?”

She nodded, “Just look at her. She’s so tiny and beautiful. And we freaking made her.”

Oliver set her food down on the coffee table and sat down beside her. His arm wrapped around her and he pulled them both close. “We did,” he kissed her cheek, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You already said that,” she sniffled again.

“It’s still true,” he said, “You brought our daughter into this world and I love you both so much.”

He nuzzled her neck, hugging her tight.

“I love you too,” she turned her head, kissing his forehead.

Chloe popped another spit bubble.

They both laughed.

“I’ll take that as an I love you too mom and dad,” Oliver said.

“Good enough for me.”


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Shance - Fluff/Smut implications - “One Last Night.”

         This was it. He’d been planning it for weeks, but now Shiro was sure it was finally time to break it off with Lance. It wasn’t that either of them had done anything wrong, or that their relationship was losing spark, it was just that with each passing day, they were getting closer and closer to being outed as a couple. It had been a month since they’d began secretly dating- when Lance had been stressed and Shiro had been the one to find him in Blue, curled up on the pilots seat and sobbing. (Knelt down beside him, Shiro had pressed a kiss to his forehead and insisted Lance had value to the team, which had turned into kissing in the cockpit and cuddling until the brunet had finally calmed down), but now it was too risky. Twice, in the last week, they’d almost been caught cuddling or kissing and they’d been actually caught by Hunk, making out in Lance’s room, only a few days prior.

         Upon being called to Shiro’s room so late, Lance got entirely the wrong idea. Assuming immediately that Shiro was looking for sex while everyone else was sleeping or too busy to hear, Lance was at Shiro’s door within a few minutes, smiling as the door opened for him and he stepped inside. Seeing the serious, somewhat grim expression on Shiro’s face, Lance immediately got the hint of what was about to happen- what he hoped wouldn’t happen- and felt his heart sink like he’d just swallowed a weight. He let the door shut behind him and tapped a button to lock it, walking toward the bed but not sitting down. Shiro looked up at him and a few moments of silence passed.

         "Am I right in assuming that I’ll get the line ‘it’s better for both of us’ tonight?“ Lance broke the silence by speaking, and Shiro seemed slightly taken aback by the predictability of this, before nodding.<br />
"It’s too risky for us to stay together like this. Hunk has already seen us together and I don’t want any further risks,” he explained, often hesitating between words but trailing off, stopping speaking entirely for a moment, so he could think about the most delicate way to phrase this. Lance moved toward him, sitting on the bed beside Shiro.

         One hand on the older males thigh, Lance looked up at him. “One last night,” he said in a low tone, somewhat demanding but in as passive of a tone as possible. Shiro gave him a slightly confused look, understanding what he meant but wanting to know his intentions. “I want to be your boyfriend for one more night.” He, after a few moments of hesitation, moved onto Shiro’s lap, leaning in so their lips brushed together but faltering- not wanting to be the kind of ex that insists on staying together when it’s unwanted- as he waited for Shiro to make the move to bring their lips together- which is exactly what he did, hands resting on the brunet’s waist as their lips met. Emotions burnt inside Lance, sadness fading and being smothered by the passion he had to be with Shiro, arms draping around his neck and legs around his waist. He would miss this. He didn’t want any of this to stop.

         A light flush rose on his cheeks at the feeling of familiar hands under his shirt, and Lance couldn’t help but shiver at the cold, metal fingers on his body, arching away from the cold on impulse but relaxing into it after only a few moments. He let a small smile appear on his lips while they moved in a rhythm against Shiro’s, and all in a moment their tongues were dancing and Lance was permitted playful dominance over the kiss. Hips began moving and friction built up between them, the hands under his shirt pushing the clothing up and making Lance pry himself away from the intoxicating kiss, solely for the shirt to be tugged over his head and on the floor- this happened within seconds, showing that they were both clearly eager to begin that night’s activities.

         While their lips weren’t locked, Lance pushed Shiro down so the older male was lying back, the friction causing excitement and small noises to be derived from the pair of them. As clothes began coming off properly and the air became thick with sexual tension, their final evening of pleasure at each other’s hands began.


         Naked, wrapped in each other’s arms and relishing the moments they had, silence filled the room between them.

         The stench of sex was heavy in the air as Lance’s head rested on Shiro’s well-built chest, the slow breaths of the older male soothing Lance, even as his heart raced.

         They’d been sat like that for what seemed like hours, only twenty minutes of earth time passing before Lance spoke up. “Can we spend tonight like this?” He asked softly as he shifted, getting a little more comfortable on Shiro’s lap despite the sharp pain that jolted up his hips, demanding for him not to move. Like he cared. Having no objections to the suggestion, even finding it cute that Lance was persistent like this yet fully accepting of the fact that this time tomorrow, they’d be back to a simple friendship, Shiro nodded to the question. He wasn’t even thinking about how Lance would have nobody to talk to about it except for Blue.

         Not even Lance would think about that until the time came. Until then, they were a couple. And they were the damn best couple out there. Hell, despite how there was nothing but an unnerving black abyss on the other side of a glass pane, Lance had somehow managed to truly feel safe while with Shiro. He’d felt like he wasn’t at risk of attack or invasion at any second- and sometimes, just sometimes, when his head rested on Shiro’s chest and his eyes were closed, he could feel like he was back home.

         But despite this, they still had countless hours together. It was unimportant how long exactly- because neither of them cared for anything but each other. Lance leaned up and their lips met and danced and sparks flew- the same as always. Sparks from the bursting electric sensations bursting inside them both, making Lance’s insides melt and a smile grow on his lips. Shiro pulled Lance closer with his arms snaked around the boyfriend’s waist, the electricity going off inside his stomach making him fill with emotion as he dominated the kiss, biting at Lance’s bottom lip playfully and barely even realizing he did it before a giggle made them both have to pull away.

         The brunet was often cute like this when they were alone, his tinted red face buried into the neck of his boyfriend as a few wet kisses plopped onto the skin, landing on scars from dangerous battles, the risen skin being both small from lame wounds and large, jagged, almost ugly. Lance had wondered many times how he’d been kept alive after all this- but with the healing pods that the ship had, it wasn’t hard to figure out they’d skipped the long, natural human healing processes by locking Shiro in a pod.

         Maybe he’d nearly died from some of these? He wanted to ask at some point.

         They sat in comfortable and calm silence, only the sounds of soft breaths in the room. Lance’s tan hand rested on Shiro’s pale chest while his thumb ran over every little bump that was within reach, studying and memorizing the structure of his boyfriend’s toned chest while he could. Shiro was warm and comfortable and damn, did he love the affection, even if it was only one arm wrapped around his shoulders to keep him close and the prosthetic resting on his hip, rubbing small circles on his waist with his thumb.

         The little touches made him melt against Shiro, his body entirely relaxed and his breaths light as he lay there, much more comfortable than he’d ever been with anyone else, his head resting on the older male’s shoulder. He let out a contented sigh and pressed a soft kiss to a patch of skin with a fading hickey on, deriving a small noise from Shiro that made him glow with some prideful emotion. He loved this. He loved his boyfriend, so much.  

         The blankets were fluffy and warm and smelt of Shiro, so the brunet planned on taking one for comfort when he left to get dressed in his own room. He shifted closer to Shiro, despite already being both on his lap and basically as close as possible, eyes gently closed and his breaths evening as he relaxed further, not taking long at all to doze off into a dreamless and peaceful black abyss. He was warm and felt safe, content by what was happening- honestly, under these circumstances? Lance was glad it was a mutual decision without one of them dying. He was glad that, if anything was going to happen, it would be like this. Who wouldn’t be?

         He dozed off after a few moments, the older of the two just holding onto his lover and keeping him close, comfortable and warm, relaxing against his boyfriend while the last little time of their relationship slowly ticked away. He’d, of course, rather they spent it kissing and cuddling, walking around and being shamelessly cutesy, despite how there would be nobody to see it except for the two of them. Shiro’s hand ran through Lance’s hair and he gently cupped his jaw and looked at the sleeping face of his gorgeous boyfriend.

         Lance’s hair was slightly messy, thanks to the sweat that had plastered it to his forehead and Shiro’s tendency to play with it. A faint smile rose on his lips as he looked at the brunet that he adored so much, hating this decision- but when they got back to Earth, or when this was over, they could be together properly again. He’d look forward to that. Lance’s smooth lips were gently parted, his eyes daintily closed and nothing but serenity and contentment, their closeness clearly proving as a sentiment Lance adored.

         Shiro envied the calmness the brunet had whilst sleeping, being unable to achieve this himself no matter what he did- what with all the nightmares he got during breaks in his insomnia- so he’d never think to let Lance (or anyone, really) miss out on sleep when tired, provided no lives depended on his consciousness. Shiro let out a soft breath of air, holding Lance closer to himself and peppering along his face with kisses, nuzzling up to his boyfriend as much as possible.

         Lance soon squirmed a little and woke up with a wet kiss being planted onto his cheek, letting out that cute giggle that made sure a bubbly, butterflies feeling arise in Shiro’s stomach. Lance leaned in and softly pecked his lips, shifting a little closer to him and wrapping his arms loosely around the older’s neck. He’d only napped for a half hour, but he didn’t seem to mind the sudden awakening. He let out a soft whine and shifted again, trying to get some pressure off of his sore hips, despite how it wasn’t even slightly as painful as usual. His warm body relaxed against Shiro’s, despite how he jolted at the coldness of the prosthetic hand on his body.

         It was when the lights turned onto their usual brightness, a sign that it was deemed morning, that Lance began feeling the lightness of the mood between them dissipate and fade. Shiro brought his boyfriend in for one last kiss, cupping his cheeks and letting his head tilt at a slight angle. Lance immediately reciprocated and their lips moved in a smooth rhythm as their bodies pressed together more, passion for their dying relationship being poured into all of it, and Shiro hadn’t realised that this final kiss was making Lance cry until a hot tear slid onto his cheek and ran down his fingers, dripping onto his leg.

         He didn’t break the kiss, though, his metal arm wrapping around Lance’s waist and bringing him even closer, that first tear soon being followed by another, and another.

         Breaking the kiss, Lance moved back and wiped away his eyes with his wrists. He let out a small laugh, pulling his hands away to look up at Shiro. “I’m really glad we’re ending it this way,” he said with a small smile, that was somewhat forced, but a genuine sign of his relief nonetheless. Shiro returned the smile, though his was no less forced.  

         "We’ll do it again when we get out of here? Back on Earth?“ A few more tears escaped Lance but he grinned widely, genuinely. It wasn’t forced. It was cute.


         "And that’s a promise?“

         "That’s a promise.”

i still can’t over the fact that frank was literally BEGGING to die, had burned all his bridges and had nothing left going for him and no redeemable qualities whatsoever, yet htgawm still killed wes, an expectant father who was with someone who loved him and still had shit to live for, and rlly thought it was a plot twist when every person who watched the show and liked wes had been dreading that they would do that exact thing….. mess!

hi-avery  asked:

"Holy shit, you're real." with Fallen Angel Enjoltaire?

Okay I’m not the best at this story arc/trope so please forgive me if this isn;t what you wanted <3

He had always associated Enjolras with falling.

Falling head over heels, falling sideways just to see him, falling in love. 

It was only fitting that he had found him here. Fallen.

Although fallen was perhaps not the best choice of words. Enjolras had clearly been here for a long time. His skin was freezing upon contact. It was hard for Grantaire to understand what he was seeing. It was all so surreal, but he was not questioning it. After all, how many times had he compared Enjorlas to an angel?

“Holy shit,” Grantaire whispered, despite the fact that Enjolras unconscious and could not hear him. “You’re real.”

Shrugging off his coat, Grantaire wrapped it around Enjolras’ bare back, only pausing briefly to look in awe and in a strange way even admire the cruel markings on his back. It was as though the wings had been pulled straight from his blades, leaving nothing but two ugly and large scars on the top of his back. 

He was grateful for the darkness that surrounded them as he lifted Enjolras into his arms. He was so much lighter to lift than what was humanly possible, and as he begun to walk back towards his home, he couldn’t help but look down onto the face that he’d always admired, always venerated, always loved. 

He wasn’t human. He was other-worldly. He was ethereal. Grantaire had believed all of these things before he had had proof. 

Enjolras’ eyes slowly began to flutter open. Grantaire felt an uncomfortable knowledge clutch at his chest. This was not a secret he was supposed to know. There were many that Enjolras trusted above him.

“R?” Enjolras asked softly as his eyes became focused, his voice not quite there yet.

“Don’t move too much.” Grantaire replied, attempting to keep his own voice steady and his face stoic. As though he hadn’t just stumbled upon the most incredible thing in his life. “I’m taking you home.”

Enjolras closed his eyes tightly. He seemed to be in great pain, and this too hit Grantaire hard. 

“I tried to go home.” Enjolras whispered, his lips were trembling. “I thought I was ready. They still don’t want me.”

“I know how that feels.” Grantaire said quietly. He fell silent for a moment, focusing on his steps. “It might not be home, but you’ll always have a place with me.”

Maybe it was his imagination, or the uncomfortable way the chill snapped at his arms, but Grantaire could have sworn he felt Enjolras hold onto him tighter after that. 

A long road Ahead || Legolas

Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood

Pairing: Legolas Greenleaf x PlusSized!reader

Word Count: 1429 (kinda short sorry)

Summary: You are a human from Gondor who in love with an elven man. Not only is your loved looked down upon because of your difference in race, but people also take up issue with your size

Warnings: Fluffy, some terrible people fat shaming (but the reader rises above their petty hate and rocks like the badass she is), minor swearing… ()should have said that first

Request:   Hello I was wondering if you could do a Legolas x human plus size female reader Request? Kind regards Class 5 Mutant171

Note: Because you didn’t specify when you wanted this to take place, I just set in between the hobbit trilogy and the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. 

I honestly don’t know if this is what you wanted, but here. Sorry it took so long.


Human. Your race. It was so simple, yet it was something that separated you from the elf that you loved. The people of Gondor weren’t known for their tolerance for different things, so when Legolas first started courting you, you got a lot of stares. You figured that it was just the difference in your race and you were able to ignore it. 

It had been nearly ten months since you started seeing each other and you were happy. Beyond happy. You were over the moon. You fell in love with Legolas. You fell hard and he had caught you. Nothing could be better.

The people of Gondor had moved on from their distain of your relationship. They had grown to accept the two of you together. It was unusual for them to readily accept something, but you were grateful because the stares had worn down Legolas down. You were glad that that weight was no longer on his shoulders.

Legolas had been away lately. He was working with Strider which you had been told was actually Aragorn II, son of Arathorn II, the rightful king of Gondor. He had told you that he would be back today and you were now awaiting his arrival. You were out running your flower cart looking toward the gate every once in a while.

“How much for this beautiful rose, Melamin,” The voice was music to your ears. You whipped around to see the man you loved holding a single rose. He was wearing a clock to conceal himself. He had probably walked right past you earlier without you even noticing.

Neled celeb,” you respond in elvish (three silver). It was your way of showing him that you knew it was him. His face lit up when you spoke. Slowly he removed his cloak from covering his head fished out coins from a small bag he carried with him.

He placed them in you had with a smile. Without saying another word, you took the coins from him and placed them with the rest of your day’s pay. An older man’s voice caught your attention. You turned to look at the man and help him buy flowers as well. He told you that he was buying them for his wife’s birthday. He had a wide grin that warmed you as you listened to him speak so enthusiastically about the woman he had been with for forty years.

Your mind wandered to you future as you listened to the older man speak. You couldn’t help but think of your life forty years from now. Your aging body being held by Legolas forever young figure. Your children coming to visit you. As you thought about it you realized just how truly much you loved Legolas. You felt Legolas’s presence beside you. He had walked over to you during your time daydreaming.

The man paid and departed with his bouquet of flowers. You turned to meet Legolas eyes with your own.

“When will you be done?” His voice seemed to float on top of all the sound in the very busy square. “I need to properly greet you.”

“I only have a few more flowers to sell for today,” You said gesturing to the cart in front of you. When Legolas looked, he saw that there were indeed only a few single flowers and two bouquets left.

“I will return to your home,” he said. “Meet me there when you are finished and I will take care of you.”

You smiled at him and nodded.

“I will see you later,” you said. You took a moment to press a chaste kiss onto Legolas lips. When you pulled away, you saw him cringe slightly. It hurt, but you brushed off as he walked away.

It didn’t take you too long to sell the rest of the flowers you had picked that day. It seemed that there was some sort of love bug in the air as everyone was buying flowers left and right all day. You made your way down the cobblestone path to your home while pushing your cart. Along the way you heard the familiar whispers and saw the common looks of distain on the people’s faces as you walked past.

As sad as it was to say, this was nothing new. You had dealt with this reaction your whole life. Growing up in a position of power, your parents never had any trouble with keeping you and your sisters feed. Often times, you had “overindulged” as you had plenty of food. This cause you to be larger than many of the other children growing up. The weight you had was maintained now, but you were still larger than nearly all the common people. This caused them to treat you harshly, but you knew that it didn’t define who you were so you had grown to ignore the prying eyes.

You reached your small, quaint home. You pushed your cart to its place outside and made your way to be greeted again by the man you loved.

Nae saian luume’,” Legolas said (it has been too long). His voice was barely above a whisper as he wrapped you in his arms. The feeling of the embrace was comforting and one you had definitely missed while he was away.

Vedui’ a'maelamin,” you said as you pushed your face into his chest (greetings my beloved). You breathed his woodland smell as he buried his face in your long hair. The two of you stood their together wrapped in each other’s arms for what could have been an eternity. When you pulled away, it still wasn’t enough.

“I have missed you gravely during my travels,” he said. “All my thoughts were of you here. Being apart from you, burns wholes in me that only you can heal. I want you to come with me.”

To say you were shocked would have been an understatement. You pulled away from him further as you tried to understand what was going on. When Legolas had started courting you, you had asked several times to come with him, but he had always said that it would be too dangerous. Now he was asking you to come along.

Part of you was happy that he wanted you beside him, but the other part of you knew there was more to this than him just missing you.

“Legolas, what is wrong?” you spoke gently laying you hand on his arm. He looked down to place you were connected with love and concern filling his gaze. He slowly placed his hand on top of yours. His thumb calloused ran along your smooth skin, but you enjoyed the rough feeling that it provided.

“I worry for your safety here,” he spoke quieter than he ever had before. “You are my world, and here they look at you like the scum on the bottom of their horse’s feet. They speak ill of you and call you names when you cannot hear them. They call you large and ugly. They are awful to you and yet you still are so nice. I worry that they will cause you to lose your brilliant shine.”

You offered him a warm smile and moved to wrap your arms around the elf again. He eagerly took you into his arms.

“I mind not of their words and their looks,” You said. “I know better than their words who I am. I will always be stronger than anything they can say or do to me. The weight that I carry matters not to who I am. If it matters to them they are not important. I am better than that. They cannot break me.”

A single tear ran down Legolas’s left cheek and fell between you. You brought your hand to his face to wipe away the tear that was trying to make its way down his other cheek. The love his tears signified was one that was strong than anything that had graced Gondor in many years.

The two of you stood in silence just enjoying being with one another. Legolas relaxed the longer that the two of you stood their together. Slowly you lead him to lay beside you on your bed. You still held each other.

Legolas started telling you stories of his most recent journey. He told you of the secret romance between man he considered his brother and the Lady of Rivendell, Arwen. He told you everything until he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Amin mela lle,” you whispered as you slowly fell asleep in his arms.

TAGGED: @class-5-mutant171

It’s The Quenchiest! [ 1 : Fever ]

Hi! Have a Klangsty fic for @voltronwhumpweek2017‘s event!

I’m a little late, but this literally sounds like the best thing ever?? I just had to participate in it and regain my motivation to write something. ;w;

This is unedited, so apologies in advance for any mistakes!

prompt: Fever
pairing: Keith/Lance
words: 2.3k
summary: In which Lance and Keith get stranded on a desert planet with little hope of finding the proper resources to survive. Lance ends up drinking some cactus juice. Unlucky things entail.

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