more like part 1

Mobius FF - FFX Collab Event Translation - Dream within a Dream Prologue (Part 1)

Back with more rough translations again.

Disclaimer: Like I said before, not 100% accurate.

Yuna: There is only one thing that I would like to ask of you.

Yuna: Those who have passed, just from time to time…

Yuna: Please remember them.

???: …That’s right

???: I disappeared. This place is…

???: This is the farplane.

???: A person?

Wol: If you don’t want to die as soon as you wake up, don’t forget the rule of this world.

Wol: Palamecia rule.

Wol: No one remembers the name of those who do not fight.

???: You saved me, right?

Wol: I don’t want to see someone die.

???: Die…me? But, isn’t this place the farplane?

Wol: Farplane? What do you mean?

???: Well, it’s the place where dead people go…

Wol: Wait, you have memories?

???: …Huh? (Note 1)

Wol: Can you remember your past?

???: ….Yeah!

Wol: Your name?

???: My name? I am…

???: …Huh? Name…My name…?

Wol: You don’t know?

Wol: What about this?

???: Blitzball!

Wol: It was floating beside you. Is this yours?

Wol: There are words that look like a name.

???: Is that…my autograph?

???: …Tidus…is my name. I think. Probably.

Wol: Even if it’s just probably, I am just going to call you Tidus for now.  

Tidus: Aa- It doesn’t feel real though.

Tidus: People usually just say “you”  (Note 2)

Tidus: I’m not used to someone using my name.

Wol: Speaking of which, it’s the same for me.

Tidus: Heh…We are alike in weird ways.

Wol: Before you woke, did you hear a bossy voice?

Wol: About the world of hope, the warrior of light.

Tidus: …I don’t remember.

Wol: Then I’ll say it first.

Wol: You probably came to Palamecia from another world.

Wol: I am the same. I came here from another world, and somehow managed to survive.

Tidus: Another world…not the farplane? But survive..I didn’t die?

Wol: Well, it’s normal to be confused. But meanwhile, I know it’s annoying but stay alive until then.

Translator’s note 1: The way Tidus said “ha” is just so cute :3

Translator’s note 2: Arggh this is one that doesn’t translate well.

Everything perfect with "Be More Chill (part 1)"

- I really like the squip’s voice??? a e s t h e t i c

- “You’ll look like a mastubator, fix your posture than the rest.”

“..but I am a mastubator.”

“We’ll fix that.”

- J : but-
S : buh
J : I-
S : buh
J : wha-
S : no
J : wai-
S : stop

- squip = asshole™

- “jesus christ.”


- “How are you with math homework?”

“I’m a supercomputer Jeremy, I’m made of math.”

-“Now you, try picking out a shirt…that’s a girls shirt.”

- “Jerry???”

-Jeremy’s, “Looking pretty sexy, Brooke,”

-THE WAY CHLOE IMMEDIATELY STARTS TO SPEAK AFTER JEREMY COMPLIMENTED BROOKE I CAN’T- (I’m probably overreacting, but I just can’t imagine Chloe not getting jealous over this)

-the way the beat changes after the squip says, “Repeat after me,” is honestly the best thing.

-Jeremy repeating the Squip and going over board with it.

-Jeremy’s faint nervous chuckle after saying, “-and she had a shirt just like this!”

- how the squip and Jeremy sing “It’s still painfull,” is my new aesthetic.


- “WHAT???”

- “she’s fre-e-e-e-ench.”

- Jermey’s voice break in his last line is the most beautiful thing I’ve heard in years.

- “because she was chEATING ON MEEEEEE.”

- “Hey Hamlet, be more chill.


in which I edit beautiful black sails caps (part I)

“Civilization is coming, and it means to exterminate us.”

  • more than survive: cool opening number yass starring high school sterotypes
  • i love play rehearsal: hot girl isn't so hot when you squint
  • the squip song: gets louder applause than the opening number
  • two-player game: two bros,,, chillin in a bedroom,,,, ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
  • the squip enters: dangit
  • be more chill part 1: so we're not supposed to like him, right?
  • do you want a ride?: help help help we're in high school help help help
  • be more chill part 2: u suck
  • more than survive (reprise): stop being a teenage boy, jeremy
  • a guy that i'd kinda be into: we know who she's talking about, cmon, there's another act
  • upgrade: p0Or MicHaEL :((//(( WweHWHEHG
  • halloween: yo this is the showstopping number of this act
  • do you wanna hang?: help help help we're in high school help help help part 2
  • the smartphone hour (rich set a fire): ok i lied this is the show stopping number whoops
  • the pitiful children: don't show this to the six five nights at freddy's fans that still exist and lurk in the corners of the internet, they'll rip it apart, spit on it and throw it off a cliff
  • the pants song: actually a rlly good song nice job mr heere ft michael
  • the play: climax starring miChAEL MAKES AN ENTRAAAANCE
  • voices in my head: wait it's over?? whAT NO GO BACK GO BACK GO BACK I WANNA SEE IT AGAIN WAIT WAIT WAIT
Softly, My Love

Or; a relationship told through its softest moments; from firsts to lasts and everything in between.

For Enjoltaire week 2017, day #3: soft.

Their first date is what can only be described as soft. 

They meet for dinner inside of a small Thai cafe, and Grantaire’s heart does somersaults all the way through his meal. Enjolras keeps smiling at him, warmly, tentatively, and Grantaire feels himself blushing every time. 

They hold hands on the walk home; what started off as Enjolras’ fingertips lightly grazing Grantaire’s wrist gradually evolved until their hands were linked, fingers intertwined. Enjolras swings their hands lightly as they walk in tandem and Grantaire thinks his jaw is going to break from all the smiling he’s been doing. 

There’s no kissing before Enjolras walks up  the steps to his apartment and waves a small goodbye to Grantaire; instead they hug loosely for a few moments, promising to have dinner again sometime. Enjolras breaks contact with a smile and Grantaire lets himself wonder how he ever got so lucky as to have that smile bestowed upon him.

It’s snowing, the first time they kiss. 

Grantaire remembers it vividly, because Enjolras was wearing that scarf that he got last Christmas- the red, white, and blue one that Courfeyrac bought him as a joke, yet Enjolras treasures with every fibre of his being. 

He’s also wearing mittens, like, honest to God, actual red fluffy mittens that tickle the sides of Grantaire’s face when Enjolras cups it between his palms. 

“I’d really like to kiss you.” Enjolras says, tracing the outline of Grantaire’s lips with one mitten-clad thumb. “Your lips look very kissable right now.”

“It’s probably the cold.” Grantaire says, stupidly, because Enjolras just asked to kiss him and sure, they’ve gone on a few dates at this point, but still.

Enjolras smiles, his eyes creasing around the edges. “Probably.” he agrees, moving one hand down to Grantaire’s neck. “Can I?”

Grantaire can’t find the words to express just how much Enjolras can, so instead he nods, feeling the ghost of Enjolras’ lips upon his almost as soon as he moves his head. 

Enjolras’ lips are soft, which is unsurprising. His kisses are short, fleeting things, a warm mouth pressing against Grantaire’s for the barest of seconds before pulling away again. Grantaire brings his own hand up to Enjolras’ face, coaxes his lips into staying a little longer, makes the kisses slower, more languid. 

It’s almost perfect, and Enjolras smiles when their lips part, eyes still closed, as if he’s taking time to immortalise the memory behind his eyelids. 

Grantaire’s never felt happier.

Perhaps Grantaire’s favourite fact that he’s learnt about Enjolras is the way he kisses. Or, more specifically, the way he reacts to being kissed. 

Lying side by side after a busy evening of studying together and watching cat videos on YouTube, Grantaire leans over to press a single kiss to Enjolras’ temple, letting his lips linger against Enjolras’ skin a moment longer than necessary. 

As expected, Enjolras’ eyelids flutter closed. Grantaire smiles warmly. They re-open as Grantaire pulls away, tracing his movement through dark lashes. 

“You’re cute, you know that?” Grantaire asks quietly.

Enjolras scrunches up his nose, which, as Grantaire said, cute.

“You’re doing nothing to disprove my point there, Enj.”

Enjolras simply gives him an affectionate roll of the eyes before leaning in closer to Grantaire’s side. “You’re cuter.” he mumbles into the fabric of Grantaire’s sweatshirt. 

Grantaire kisses his forehead again.

Sometimes love is a big thing; a grand gesture or large announcement, the penultimate confession scene in a movie or dramatic chase for the protagonist to follow their heart.

Othertimes, it’s a smaller entity; late night conversations or shared feelings, the soft touches of natural intimacy or the simple comfort of another tangible being. 

The first time Enjolras tells Grantaire that he loves him, they’re on the couch in Grantaire’s apartment, watching the best of the best cheesy rom-com films Netflix has to offer. 

The credits are rolling, but instead of getting up, Enjolras and Grantaire stay cocooned on the couch, too content to move. 

Grantaire is debating whether it would be a good idea to turn the autoplay on, when Enjolras laces their fingers together. 

“Hey,” he says quietly. “I love you.”

Grantaire’s heart does a funny dive within his chest and he smiles before he’s even processed the full meaning of Enjolras’ words. Enjolras is staring at him intently, as if he’s trying to convey the extent of his love through his eyes alone. It’s almost enough to make Grantaire teary-eyed.

“I love you too.” Grantaire says back, even quieter, delighting in the way Enjolras seems to practically glow with the newfound knowledge. 

He smiles, and Enjolras smiles back, like they’ve just shared some sort of secret. 

“Soft.” Grantaire mumbles, running his fingers through Enjolras’ hair gently. Enjolras makes a small sound and buries himself further into the duvet. He’s never been a morning person and Grantaire chuckles to himself at all the memories he has of trying to coax a sleepy Enjolras into wakefulness with coffee and kisses.

“C’mon, sleepyhead, time to wake up. Bright and early.” Grantaire says, despite the fact that it’s eight ‘o clock on a Sunday.

“You wake up.” retorts Enjolras- not his best work, but Grantaire supposes he can be forgiven on account of how his brain still has a little longer to go before it’s functioning properly.

“I am awake, love.”

Enjolras grumbles, but maneuvers himself so that he’s half-laying across Grantaire’s chest, giving Grantaire better access to his curls. Enjolras sighs as Grantaire strokes his hair out of his face, one hand curled up against his hip and the other splayed out against Grantaire’s shoulder. Grantaire smiles as he brings Enjolras’ hand to his mouth to lay a kiss against his knuckles. “Coffee?” Grantaire asks quietly.

“God, yes. Please.” 

Grantaire hums. “Alright. Be right back.” 

Enjolras’ hand wraps around Grantaire’s wrist as he makes a sound of protest. “Stay.” he semi-whines. 

Grantaire laughs. “Enj, if you want the coffee I have to go and fetch it.”

“Stay,” Enjolras repeats, tugging Grantaire back down to lay with him. “I’d rather have you. Coffee later, cuddling now.”

Grantaire is only too happy to oblige.

Grantaire is systematically working the tension out of his boyfriend’s shoulders and upper back, cherishing the little contented hums Enjolras makes whenever he rubs a particular spot. 

“You’re always so tense.” Grantaire mutters, leaning down to press kisses against Enjolras’ shoulders.

“Mmmm, I wonder why.” mumbles back Enjolras, though the corners of his mouth are turned up ever so slightly.

They both know why; it’s a combination of stress, wearing a binder for eight hours a day, and the weight of a messenger bag that somehow always ends up heavier than it started off. (Grantaire has tried to convince Enjolras to stop making so many trips to the library to no avail; Enjolras devours books almost as quickly as Combeferre- which is saying something, given the man’s infamous reputation for reading the entirety of War and Peace in two nights.)

Grantaire’s glad he can be of help- even if it is only in this small way. It’s easily intimate, being with Enjolras like this, and Grantaire’s beyond grateful that it’s normal for them to share moments like this together- a few years ago he wouldn’t have believed it to be possible. 

Enjolras hums as Grantaire rubs his shoulders, and then Grantaire’s hands are being gently swatted away as Enjolras moves to sit up, a contented smile sitting on his face. “Thank you.” he says, trailing light fingers down Grantaire’s jawline before moving to bring their mouths together. The kiss is slow and languid and Grantaire smiles onto Enjolras’ lips, feeling Enjolras do the same. 

“Mmmmmm,” Enjolras murmurs as they break apart, “Your turn now, c’mon, roll over.”

“Enj, you don’t have to-”

“Oh, hush you; you know I do, now roll over.”

“Bossy.” Grantaire chides, yet obliging all the same. It’s practically routine by now, anyway- no matter how much he protests, Enjolras will always insist on returning the favour, probably in the interests of equality or something similar. (It’s not like Grantaire’s complaining; Enjolras gives quite satisfactory backrubs.)



“I love you.”

Grantaire doesn’t need to turn around to know that Enjolras is smiling when he replies, “I love you too.”

They get married on a Wednesday. Everything is hectic and everybody is stressing out and Grantaire almost works himself into a panic attack which he hasn’t done since he was eighteen, thank you very much.

Despite this, the ceremony is wonderful. There’s laughter and smiles and Grantaire feels so spectacularly happy he could shout it from the top of the Eiffel Tower and still the grin would not be swept off his face.

Now it’s late, and Enjolras stands in the doorway to their room, shirt untucked and tie hanging haphazardly around his neck. Grantaire doesn’t think he’s ever looked more beautiful.

“Come here, you.” he says, patting the side of the bed next to him. Enjolras huffs and rolls his eyes, although he’s clearly just as giddy as Grantaire.

“Yes, husband.” Enjolras replies dutifully, grinning as he walks over. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Enjolras immediately pulls Grantaire in for a kiss. It’s soft and delicate and so, so lovely that Grantaire has to break away for smiling too much.

“Husband.” Grantaire says, fitting his mouth around the word. “I’m going to enjoy getting used to that.”

Enjolras beams at him.


I really enjoyed to make that thing lol, and there is a lot more to look forward to!
Follow for more stuff like that!

PART 1/5

Here there are the lucky ones who will be background characters
in More Than Survive

Of course the commissioner @goofygrrl
And the ones picked from the reblogs

I’ll tell you exactly in which minute you appear later but expect it to be towards the end of the animatic.

FOR EVERYONE ELSE, DON’T DESPAIR. I’m going to do a similar contest for all big crowd scenes, like Be more chill part 1&2, pitiful children ecc.

The YOI Soundtrack is absolute genius PART ONE - Kamome

So, this is a post I’ve really wanted to make for a while. And, I know how much people seem to like my metas, so why not? I will preface this with the fact I am not a musical expert. I had vocal training, was in a few choirs etc., but I have no qualifications, I’m just a nerd who’s really into music and analysis. I would be perfectly okay with someone with experience sweeping in to tell me I’m completely wrong, these are just my personal thoughts and observations. Also, if you want to skim this, I’m bolding the main points.

I have a bone to pick with the Yuri On Ice Original Soundtrack(s), because they’re absolute bloody genius. And personally I think, represent a lot about Viktor and Yuuri’s relationship.

My main focus will be on three: Kamome, Passacaille In Barcelona, and Yuri On Ice itself. To stop it from getting to a ridiculous length, I’m going to be tackling this in three different parts. 

First, the appropriately named Kamome (translating to ‘seagull’ in Japanese).

One thing you have to understand is that consistently in the music, Viktor is represented by strings, and Yuuri by piano. I’m not going to claim that this is true for 100% of the anime, but honestly just listen to background in the scenes for the characters (even down to their Free Skate music! The difference between Stammi Vicino and Yuri On Ice!), you’ll see what I mean.

Personally, I think this represents their personalities. Though it’s true you can pluck strings pretty quickly if you want to, none of that really happens in the pieces we care about. In fact, Viktor’s pieces are always so steady sounding (some are waltzes, I believe? A very sturdy dance and beat). Whereas, a lot of the piano represented by Yuuri is super erratic and unpredictable. I don’t think I really need to go that deep into explaining why that represents them both, and what they brought to each other’s lives so beautifully. But oh boy, the piano and string pieces meant to represent the both of them together?

We see Kamome used in three scenes, which all represent similar events in that the scenes start with Yuuri fighting on his own, and end with a greater bond between he and Viktor. Those scenes are:

Yuuri running off to practice figures in Ice Castle (episode two)

The infamous beach conversation (episode four)

The Christmas market scene (episode ten)

And the same story is told through the music too!

Now I believe the figures scene and the market scene both use the exact same clip of the music, which happens to be the start. Honestly, just listen to how innocent it sounds. For me at least, the first part of Kamome reminds me of a music box. Which, if we take that image, makes me think of repetition (you know those spinning ballet dancers and such? – Interesting that we see Yuuri skating figures with this playing).

Now, these two scenes skip the strings sections and just keep the little piano parts. And to be fair, these are both scenes that only lead up to Yuuri bonding with Viktor, hence the solo piano; Yuuri is fighting on his own, making his own choices.

So, we’re left with one scene were the music is pretty much as it appears on the purchasable soundtrack: the beach scene. This is, in my opinion, the best symbolic use of the music. First of all, we start off with the innocent sounding piano as Yuuri recounts that story of Detroit, which again portrays him in a naïve and kind of childish/innocent light. And finally, we get the strings at this moment:

As soon as Viktor reaches out to Yuuri, the music has a different mood. The strings fill in the gaps the piano left, almost swirling around it and complimenting it in the best of ways. If you will, Viktor is literally meeting Yuuri where he is, both in animation and their figurative strings/piano representations.

The music for that scene ends there, but if you listen to the whole piece, it almost tells the story of Viktor and Yuuri all together. This is going to be a lot easier if you actually listen to it, the music is on both Spotify and Youtube.

0:00-0:28 We have the innocent music box piano, AKA Yuuri on his own

0:28-0:51 The strings have joined in, but the piano definitely seems to be leading, so this part represents where Viktor followed Yuuri’s lead, and decided to ‘meet him where he is’

0:51-1:10 This part feels more like a mutual balance, showing how Yuuri has begun to accept Viktor’s presence, and even trusts him more.

1:10-1:20 The piano is alone again, but this time much more playful. For me, this sounds like an invitation, especially with the little flourish at the end that begs to be completed. The anime literally shows this, as it’s the same moment Yuuri actually extends his hand to Viktor in invitation.

1:20-2:00 This honestly sounds more like the strings are now leading, showing how Yuuri has finally put his faith in Viktor. Now the piano sounds like the steady beat, which could perhaps represent how the tone of the anime shifts as we find more out about Viktor, and see how Yuuri created stability in his life too.

2:00-2:18 The piano and the strings are now in perfect harmony, creating a beautiful, romantic sounding duet as they’re less distinguishable from each other. To be honest, this is the exact conclusion of Viktor and Yuuri’s relationship in canon – just take a look at the Stammi Vicino Duetto

To be completely honest, I have no idea whether the Yuri On Ice creators actually intended this to be such a perfect representation of viktuuri or not, but I kind of think it is? Why? Kamome. Seagull. Through the entire series, seagulls are used consistently as a symbol for Viktor and Yuuri’s love. Sometimes it’s a mere background shot, but it is explicitly brought to our attention. Although it could just be called Kamome due to the beach scene it’s in, I have to think it’s deeper than that.  

So, long story short, some serious praise is deserved, because this is symbolic genius.

Even if you don’t buy into my analysis, please listen to it because it is a BEAUTIFUL piece of music.

(I promise I’ll upload part two and three soon, but this third is over 1000 words and took me a while to write, so please be patient)

Okay but a genghis khan musical movie tho think of the possibilities:

  • Dancing henchmen, now with actual personalities
  • Hero having a introduction song thats basically a polished up version of what his life is like: it’s very james bond like and all that stuff
  • Villain having a very typically villainous introduction song and hero interrupting him. 
  • It basically being a running gag that agent always interrupts villains songs
  • Angry duets 
  • Fighting but it basically being dancing
  • Villain debating how to kill hero w/ his henchmen and them being like “Listen dude. It’s blatantly obvious you have a crush on him now go and get ready cause he’ll be there in a minute” and dressing him up in some very nice suit, cologne, maybe polish up his nose lmao, all in a dance number while villain’s protesting
  • Hero shows up and tries very hard not to notice how good villain looks suddenly (not that he doesn’t look good normally)
  • (Ex-)wife and villain having a big dance number where wife says villain has grown soft, villain trying to prove he’s absolutely not gone soft because of some stupid secret agent and is still very menacing (lmao)
  • The henchmen having their whole own song without villain, hero or anyone else. Like in the cafetaria, talking about whatever, then hero storming into the cafetaria with villain following him, fighting each other while the henchmen watch, singing about their thoughts on the whole ‘our boss is in love with his arch nemesis’ thing
  • Cute dancing and singing children!!!! I love them. 
  • Hero seems to almost exclusively take on missions where villain plays some sort of part, according to his boss. They eventually believe him when he says he just hates the dude very much and wants to take him down but he just never seems to succeed, he doesn’t understand how he seems to escape every time either.
  • The agency actually capturing villain in some way, agent helping him escape by providing just the tools he needs
  • Having to pretend he’s upset over villain escaping like ‘Why don’t we have any competent agents around here? Who put the key on a hook right next to the cell door?? Hmm??’ fucking nerd
  • Henchmen with actual personalities I wanna know what the guy who goes ooh in the background is really like
  • The martini glass making an appearance
  • Hero making shitty nose puns and villain getting back at him by making fun of the martini glass
  • Flirting without even noticing it themselves with henchmen rolling their eyes in the background
  • You know that labcoated guy in the background who sits at the computer and also goed ‘ooh’? He needs a part lmao
  • 60s music!!! lots and lots of different 60s music
  • Villain and agent physically fighting over something (a remote, a key, etc.) and them almost kissing
  • Villain deciding this needs to end now because he’ll lose everything he has if it doesn’t
  • Him and a team of scientists constructing the laser, the scientists very carefully asking him whether this is a good idea. Someone says that he could always just shoot him if he wanted hero dead, to which he answers that hero deserves something special. 
  • Hero being heartbroken when he’s placed on the table, discovering that he really can’t get out of it this time, scared for his life.
  • A duet with villain desperately trying to ignore hero trying to interrupt him while he’s singing about him wanting hero to get it on with nobody else but him, and when he’s about to push the button, the buzzer powers down the machine
  • So not only ANGRY duets, also sad duets
  • Wife asking whether he’s killed the agent yet when the children have gone to bed, and giving him an ultimatum when she hears he hasn’t
  • Villain having a reprise of his introduction song: his song was about how evil he was and how he was gonna take over the world yada yada, the reprise is about him hating how he suddenly has goodness in him, and how he hopes he’ll be able to do it the next day so everything can go back to normal. Hero’s part is about how he hoped villain had some goodness in him but apparently he doesn’t, because he’s going to kill him, but he still hopes he won’t.
  • Next day villain’s semi-convinced himself that he’ll be able to do it. He wants to tell hero how he feels but that he knows a relationship between them wouldn’t work out, and he DOES tell him. Hero’s going to die anyway, right?
  • The same events happening as in the video, but with a bigger dance number because come on it’s a musical, the henchmen are gonna do something more than just bopping along in the background
  • Hero reassuring villain that it can work out, and they’ll figure it out together.
  • Wife having observed everything that happened and shooting hero after dramatically appearing from behind a pillar, then escaping
  • Hero lying in villains arms, singing a kind of bittersweet goodbye song and villain being like ‘Shut the fuck up I’m not going to let you die’
  • Hero survives, of course, and is moved to a bed in the hospital wing to rest (not before kissing villain passionately, of course)
  • Wife coming to visit him in the hospital wing to finish the job, him singing about what his life was really like and how he glamorized it to feel better about himself and the image he should uphold as an agent, and how he loves villain and wants him to be happy, doing this to distract wife (but all of it being tru lmao) .Wife singing about how she never had the chance to pursue world domination because villain would amass their empire and she had to take care of the kids, also singing about her tragic backstory and that she worked so much harder for villains love than hero and he doesn’t deserve it.
  • Him using the oppurtunity to push a silent alarm button that summons henchmen to the hospital wing. Wife proceeding to fight off the henchmen and escaping through the window
  • A very Serious Conversation about how thinks will work out, about what wife said to hero, etc. 
  • Villain and hero dreaming about their future together, which turns into a nice dance ending number, complete with a scorned ex-wife as a nice cliffhanger at the end.
  • Which means happy duets
  • Henchmen and scientists with bigger parts holy shit give it to me

direwolfpupy  asked:

The theonsa fic of my dreams: instead of going to Pyke, Theon goes to KL without permission to rescue (aged up)Sansa. Not to be a hero, for GLORY bc he's a fuckboy pre-Ramsey. But I still love him. Anyway Sansa is wonderstruck and has hearteyes for Theon. She's also gotten hot since he's last seen her. They fuck, ofc. Then he's like 'oh shit, I fucked Robb's sister'. But only after.

Of your dreams? Then I have to write it! :P

Theon didn’t expect it to be this easy. True, he’d been in the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of the procession after they left the docks, but when the riot breaks out and he catches sight of Sansa’s red hair in the crowd, he’s on his feet immediately. She’s been dragged off her horse, away from her guard in the chaos, and the smallfolk are grabbing at her hair, her blue dress, greedy hands trying to take.

No matter. They may have the numbers, but Theon’s got a sword on him, and he knows how to use it. He nearly loses sight of her in the confusion, sees her dragged under a sea of dirty urchins and smelly fishwives. Drowned God, but they are filthy here. Forget Northmen. These were the real savages.

Perhaps that is why her mouth drops open in a soundless oh when Theon shoves them out of the way and takes her by the waist. In his dark blue tunic and the gleaming silver buttons, he must look like a prince. Perhaps that is why she scrambles towards him, tucks herself into his side and clutches at his jerkin. Gods know Sansa never willingly touched Theon before.

When they are free of the mob, Theon wraps his cloak around her and tucks her bright hair beneath the hood. She is shaking still, but Theon—Theon has the biggest grin on his face when they make it to the dock.

Robb had commanded Theon to go to Pyke. Commanded him. As if Theon were not a prince himself now. As if Theon were a subject of the North, as if he were the green boy and Robb the man. The order had rankled him, and when Theon had commandeered the Lannister vessel with a skeleton crew of 9 men off the Myraham, he’d turned south instead of north, east instead of west.

“Imagine the glory!” He’d told his crew, raising the horn of ale he’d taken from the captain’s quarters. “Stealing the rose of the North right out from under the lion bitch’s nose!”

He’s not quite sure when the plan—if it could be called such a thing—solidified. Perhaps between his fourth and fifth drink, perhaps after his euphoria had reached its high. Finally, finally, Theon had his own ship. It was a small trading galley, but it was his. He wouldn’t return as the ward, the hostage that the honorable Ned Stark stole away a decade before. He’d return to Pyke a hero, the dashing rogue who did what even the King in the North couldn’t accomplish—waltz into the most guarded city in the world and steal a princess from under the Lannisters without them being the wiser.

Imagine the glory. Theon had imagined it. He knew what it would look like. The women he’d meet would beg him to bed them after they heard what a hero he was. They’d fall to their knees for just a chance to be fucked by Theon Greyjoy, prince of the Iron Isles. They’d thank him after, pray to whatever greenlander gods they had to see him again.

And with his head full with dreams of glory and that soft warmth between a woman’s thighs, Theon sailed into the lion’s den.

Sansa was silent for long after they’d sailed away. When Theon returned belowdecks to check on her, she was staring out of the porthole at the distant smudge of the city on the horizon. Turned away from him, she seemed small, doll-like.

“You’re out, then,” Theon says, cheerily, leaning against the door. Sansa starts, and turns to him. Drowned God, but she’d gotten prettier in the two years since Theon’s seen her. When she left Winterfell as a girl of fourteen, she’d been a sight to see, but Theon had always thought of her as a child. She’s devastatingly lovely now, with the candlelight throwing soft shadows across her, the pale line of her throat, the clear blue of her eyes offsetting the golden red of her hair. Theon knew that the pretty child would become a beautiful woman, but still…his mouth goes dry. He masks his staring with a rakish grin.

“Thank you for that,” Sansa says, her voice clear as a bell. “I—I thought I’d die in that place. Thank you for getting me away from there.”

Theon smiles widely. Appreciation. Finally.

She ruins it, though. “Did Robb—did he send you?”

His smile freezes, and he can feel it—the cruel tilt to his mouth. “No,” he says, fighting to sound jovial. “I came myself. I thought I’d rescue you, see. You’re missing all the good stuff, you know. War makes for exciting times! Couldn’t let you stay cooped up in King’s Landing the entire bloody time.”

Sansa looks faint, but Theon wonders if it’s not the dim light and the shadows and the way he’s studying her face. She closes her eyes briefly. “He didn’t send you?”

“No,” Theon repeats, firmly.

With a shuddering breath, Sansa opens her eyes. To Theon’s surprise, they are full of tears. “Theon—” she begins, her voice hitching. She never says his name. That alone is enough to wipe the smile from his face. “Theon, they were so horrible there. It was awful. Joffrey is a monster, and I—I want my mother and Robb and Arya. Won’t you take me to them? Please, Theon, if you use me for something else, I—I don’t think I’d survive it.”

Theon’s never seen Sansa this way, poised but crumbling, still but almost broken, blinking back tears. Use her for something else? Why would she think—

Before he can comprehend what he’s done, he’s taken three long strides across the berth and she’s in his arms. He’s got a nose full of red hair that smells like flowers and can feel every inch of Sansa against him.

“I’ll take you to him,” he promises, hardly recognizing the voice coming from his throat. It’s too soft, mumbled against her hair. This wasn’t the plan, but Theon’s the first to admit he’d hardly planned anything, really. “I’ll take you to Robb, Sansa, and then…you can go home, I promise.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, and he can feel her tears against his collarbone. Gods, she’s gotten tall. “Thank you, Theon.”

When she pulls away, she’s teary and more beautiful than Theon’s ever seen. He doesn’t think he’s laid his eyes on a sight so lovely in years. He’s so caught up in her, dazed that he barely has time to react. When she rises to her toes and presses her lips to Theon’s cheek, he freezes.

When she pulls away, her cheeks look flushed…but no, that must be the poor light. Theon fights the urge to place a hand on the burning spot where her lips touched his skin.

“I prayed for a knight, some hero to take me away,” she confesses, her voice soft in the dark. “I prayed and prayed, every time Joffrey had me beaten or Cersei called me her little dove in that awful way. The gods answer our prayers.” She clutches at his hands. Her fingers are still shaking. “I’m glad it was you.”


Heres a part of an Au I’ve been working on where Andrew and Neil never got together but can’t seem to stay away from each other. 

Neil’s apartment is exactly as one would think: small, bare, and impersonal. Andrew hates the claustrophobic space and plain beige walls and avoids visiting as much as he can. Which, usually isn’t too hard, considering they barely text now that they don’t have to dorm together, and that they’re on separate teams.

Andrew shouldn’t even be here, Neil Josten stopped being his problem years ago, stopped being one of Andrew’s when he cut their deal short and waltzed into death’s open arms, stopped being one of his when he returned battered and scarred, covered in his father’s blood.

Keep reading


I doodled some mooooore of this SU crossover, thingy.  Keith and Lance have difficulty with their fusion, nothing new to Pidge. And Allura is a giant pink women who is just looking out for her cracked solider, don’t worry he’s fine.

If you enjoy this au then reblog or like, to show me that you would like to see more. Thanks!

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