some amazing badass super flawless Navrina headcanons for eligeek. Fucking love them. Forever.
Their favorite thing to do together is walking out of the place they’re staying at.
And as the walk around, a few seconds after they started, they hold hands. They really love holding hands.
Every time they take a walk they want to eat pizza.
They end up eating finding pizza no matter where they are.
They don’t need to talk to the other person to know what is happening.
They don’t want to turn into one of those ordinary couples.
They barely fight. (sometime Marina gets mad at Eight. Dork.)
They would never want the other one to change themselves.
They don’t usually make romantic/love gestures when other people are around. They like privacy. Unless there’s a fight and all of the sudden you see them making out.
Marina needs to force Eight to give her back her little Loralite stone.
They both agree they wil never try teleporting to Somalia.
When Marina is back from shopping, Eight telelports himself to the door and takes the bags from her.
Ella’s is like a little sister for them. They love her very much.
Both of them are great with children.
Speaking of kids, Marina wants two. Eight? he wants 15.
Marina likes to train with Eight. He doesn’t seems like he wants to kill her like Nine does and she feels more comfortable with him.
They sleep close to each other, on the sides, foreheads almost pressed.
Eight has more nightmares than Marina, sadly, and she always calms him down when he’s woken by them.
They don’t like coffee, so Eight just makes both of them tea.
They relationship is basiclly friendship. They’re the same only that they can kiss without the awkward situation.
Every time Eight tries to cook something by himself, he takes Marina withhim to get some notes from her. He picks her up and place her on the kitchen’s countertops. That makes Marina blush really hard.
When Eight is extremely happy, he picks Marina up and twirls her.
And when he’s excited and starts jumping up and down, Marina just smiles at him and shake her head a little, thinking about what a fanboy he is.
Marina thinks she can’t dance, but it’s the most adorable thing Eight has ever seen. He loves how the music makes Marina happy and her face light up.
When they’re alone, they start running around the penthouse, singing Love Is An Open Door.
When they sit next to each other, Marina puts her legs on Eight’s.
They do things together all the time in perfect timing. Like, looking at something in the same time, nodding, smiling, laughing.
Eight once heard Ella saying to Marina that “something goes on between you and Eight.”
Marina thinks is super hot when Eight leans against the door. And when he smirks. And when he lifts a car with his bare hands. And when he doesn’t wear a short.
They sing out loud when the clean. They go to the end of the room, Marina in one side and Eight in the other, and slide towards each other back to back. That’s how they start cleaning.
Marina wishes to take a megaphone and yell at Eight “The Loric over there with the really good hair!”
They understand that there are other things besides their relationship.
Malcolm ships them.
Ella ships them.
Six ships them.
John ships them.
They’re canon since the moment they met.
They fucking love each other.
They’re so flawless the haters are out of words.
They got an army of fangirls who will kill you if you say one bad thing about them.
“A wise man once told me that only by leaving someone good can you meet someone better.” –Eight, Rise of Nine, Pittacus Lore
But Eight no one could replace you.
This is what I love about Eight. He is wise; he knows the danger of fighting the Mogs and his imminent death, but he kept going. He went with the Garde and fought in New Mexico. He still went on to help on the mission to Everglades, (even though leaving Ella and John is unacceptable) thinking that getting Five’s chest could help with Ella’s coma. Eight is still happy, hopeful and finds beauty in life even he is always in the verge of death.
…still trying to figure out photoshop sorry I am not good with these things. I tried
“We’ll make it back together, Henri. Me and you, I promise,” I say, and close my eyes.
“Be strong,” he says, and is overtaken by slight coughs, though he tries to speak through them. “This war…Can win…Find the others…. Six…. The power of…,” he says, and trails off.
I try to stand with him in my arms but I have nothing left, hardly enough strength to even breathe. Off in the distance I hear the beast roar. Cannons are still being fired, the sounds and lights of which reach out over the stadium bleachers, but as each minute passes less and less of them are being fired until there is only one. I lower Henri in my arms. I place my hand to the side of his face and he opens his eyes and looks at me for what I know will be the final time. He takes a weak breath and exhales and then slowly closes his eyes.
“I wouldn’t have missed a second of it, kiddo. Not for all of Lorien. Not for the whole damn world,” he says, and when that last word leaves his mouth I know that he is gone. I squeeze him in my arms, shaking, crying, despair and hopelessness taking hold. His hand drops lifelessly to the grass. I cup his head in my hand and hold it close to my chest, and I rock him back and forth and I cry like I’ve never cried before.
I AM NUMBER FOUR by Pittacus Lore
an old piece i did back in january…in memory of Henri…(golly, i missed so much from the cepan weeks) D:
”I don’t want to fight you!” he shouts in my face. “Stop attacking me!”
As soon as he’s reeled me back in, I shove him away. He doesn’t come at me, but he remains crouched, ready to dodge anything I might throw at him.
”You’re Four,” he says.
”How do you know that?”
”They know what you look like, John Smith. What all of you look like. And so do I—” He hesitates. “Except I also remember seeing you as a child. Running for a ship while my people murdered yours.”
”You’re the one Malcolm and Sam talked about.” My voice come through gritted teeth. I can’t shake the feeling that I should run or fight when faced with his kind. It’s ingrained in me, but I try to keep it in check.
”Adamus Sutekh,” the Mog introduces himself. “I prefer Adam.”
”Your people killed a friend of mine tonight, Adam,” I spit, knowing my anger is unreasonable, not able to help myself. “And they kidnapped another.”
”I’m sorry,” he says. “I came as quickly as I could. Are Malcolm and Sam safe?”
”I—” Well I just don’t know how to react to that. A Mog showing compassion. Even if Sam and Malcolm said it was true, I still never really imagined it. “Yeah, they’re fine.”
”Good,” Adam replies. His voice still has the harshness of a Mogadorian. “We need to get out of here.”
”You’re hurt, angry,” Adam says, moving cautiously closer to me, like I might suddenly take a swing at him. “I get that. But if you want to hurt them back, I can help.”
-Number Four and Adamus Sutekh, “The Fall of Five.”