that little fist shake

No Need To Knock

Because I’ve written a bit of Virgil looking after Roman, now it’s Roman’s turn! <3 Also on a03 here.

Roman is incredibly nervous. It’s a feeling he’s been getting too familiar with- and of course there was that dreadful spike in Anx-Virgil’s room, and ever since then it’s crept up more insistently than on average. 

“Uh, Roman?” Virgil’s voice is loud, with a slight echo, and Roman cringes at how he automatically flinches away. “I can hear you pacing a mile off, just come in, no need to knock or anything.”

Roman clears his throat and shifts on the balls of his feet, keeping himself in limbo, just outside of Anxiety’s room space. “I-uh- no offense, Hot Topic, but I’d rather stay put.”

He can practically hear Virgil’s answering eye roll. “Of course, I know the doom and gloom is a bit much.”

“No! Well- yes, sometimes, but I meant-” He scrubs underneath his eyes in paranoia, but there’s no eyeshadow. He gathers a bit of courage. “I’m feeling rather… unsure and I think going in your room would… heighten it. That is- I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

Suddenly, Anxiety is in front of him, a crease between his eyes. “You’re feeling ‘unsure’,” he echoes, complete with hesitant air-quotes.

Roman fights with his instinct to act affronted and storm away. Instead, he says, “I’m just a bit worried. About- about you, I mean.”

He didn’t realise how easy it was to make Virgil look absolutely flabbergasted. His mouth gapes open. “Um, well, that’s…” He scratches the back of his neck. “New?”

Emboldened by the lack of sarcasm, Roman continues: “Look, it’s just- you’ve been in your room. A lot. And, yes, I get it, familiar bubble yada yada, but it’s- I’ve noticed it’s been a bit. Much.”

Virgil is biting his lip. “You noticed all that, huh?”

It still floors Roman how shocked Virgil can sound. “Look, Patton and Logan noticed too but they- they didn’t want to push you. And- and neither do I but-” He sighs. “I don’t like the thought of you cooped up in there when you don’t want to be.”

Virgil blinks. He makes a quiet humming noise, very similar to when he revealed his name, and Roman doesn’t really know how to react. He sounds anxious, there’s no other word for it, and the last thing Roman wants is to make things worse.

“Listen, I was only wondering if you’d rather visit my room for a bit?”

He almost laughs at how Virgil’s mouth immediately drops open again. He scoffs, but Roman is beginning to recognise when it’s just a front. “Is that a request or a demand, Sir Sing-a-Lot?”

“An invitation.”

Virgil rubs his temples in thought. “Not that I’m saying no but… aren’t you concerned about what might happen?”

Roman tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what if I ruin it? I don’t know what’ll happen, what if I start….um, turning the walls black or melting your Disney posters or-um-”

Roman shrugs. “You didn’t worry about us messing up your room, why should I?”

Virgil pauses. “True, but… but what if-”

Roman cuts him off with an extravagant hand-wave. “Trust me, if my room starts looking like a Dementor’s hit it, I’ll send you packing.” Then, at Virgil’s panicked look, he adds: “I was joking, Virgil. It’ll be fine. Besides, if you could conjure up more Nightmare Before Christmas posters, that’d be flippin’ sweet man.”

Virgil half groans, half laughs. “Nice try.” He swallows. “Alright, then. Okay.”

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Characters of the Silmarillion

Celebrimbor [Tyelperinquar] : last of the House of Fëanor, lord of the elves of Ost-in-Edhil in Eregion, the head of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain, a guild of elven craftsmen and friend of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm.

Co-maker of the Doors of Durin and forger of the Three Rings of Power.

Stronger- Theo imagine

Originally posted by teenwolfhowl

Originally posted by moan-s


Anonymous said:

Can you do a teen wolf imagine where the reader gets bullied and Theo defends her and turns her into a chimera?

A/N: Currently catching up with teen wolf and have fallen for Theo all over again xx

Words: 1731

“I’ve really enjoyed tonight, I hope you also had a good time” dean spoke softly, his fingers running across your cheek bone down to your lips. You blushed and nodded your head shyly in response. Dean was one of the ‘populars’ and also part of a group of people who seemingly hated you. He had the choice of any girl in beacon hills high, yet he had chosen to go out with you. You were flattered and a tad hesitant but the fact someone like him could like you, gave you confidence in yourself.

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adam caught robert trying to do some dorky little fist bump hand shake with aaron because he was That excited about their plan going so well. he laughed his head off, even aaron couldn’t help it and soon adam was showing off this special hand shake him and aaron made when they were younger. robert tries to grin and bare it and pretend that he doesn’t care but then he’s suddenly pulling aaron by the waist and saying “well uh … not sure that beats this” and yeah he’s snogging the life out of aaron just to prove that kissing is better than hand shakes any damn day.

Someone Like You - Pony Curtis Imagine

A/N: Hope you enjoy this! I’m tagging @zeusspirits for helping me through a creative stump and @shandun02 because she loves Ponyboy

Word Count: 338

Warnings: None

Pairing: Pony Curtis x Reader

“Hey, Curtis!” I, along with everyone else in the school’s hallway, look over at the jock yelling at Ponyboy Curtis. The guy yelling is Ponyboy’s girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend and, in my humble opinion, both are real pieces of work.

“What?” Ponyboy sounds fed up, and rightfully so. His arm is around his girl and she looks snobbier than ever. She’s dating the guy I’ve loved since the third grade and she doesn’t even appreciate him.

My train of thought is derailed when the jock makes an awful remark about Ponyboy’s parents. Pony’s jaw drops and the entire hallway goes dead silent. “You gonna fight back, Donkeyman? You know, maybe it’s good you parents are dead. Now they can’t have any more kids with stupid names.” Pony looks so stunned at hurt at the insults hurled at him that I almost wonder if he can even say anything in return.

“Shut up.” I hardly recognize that it’s my own voice ringing through the quieted school building. I only feel rage pumping through my body.

“Excuse me?” Jock boy is pissed now.

“You heard me. You should shut up. You’re stupid and arrogant and don’t deserve to breathe the same air as Ponyboy.” I jab a finger in Pony’s girlfriend’s direction. “And you don’t deserve to date him. He’s attractive and smart and kind and you’re shallow and full of it.”

Nobody dares move a muscle as she clenches her prissy little fists. “Ponyboy! Do something! Fight for me!”

Ponyboy shakes his head slightly. “No…” He takes a second to think things through. “No, you and I are through. Y/N is right. I can do better than someone who bullies me. I want someone like Y/N.”

The little brat glowers at him. Never before have I seen someone so enraged. “Fine.” She grits her teeth. “You two have fun together.”

Smiling, I wave her away. “We will. Don’t worry.”

Those Who Hunt Their Own

Originally posted by iwillalwayschooseyou

(A/N: Just a story idea going my head, not sure how I feel about this.)

 Merciful wasn’t a word normally in Damon’s dictionary. Yet as he stared down at you, a tiny frightened girl in the backseat, Damon couldn’t bring himself to harm you. He reached out for you only to recieve a pencil through the hand. Luckily for you, the pain of it was overshadowed by shock. Then again… could he really be surprised?  

   You were child of a hunter. One who just attempted to kill him. “If you’re trying to kill me, you’ll have to do better than that.” Damon said, calm.  

     He bit back the comment about her mother failing to do the same. Kindness was another trait not normally displayed by him. Even when Damon faked being nice, he was still a sarcastic asshole. “You can’t come in!” You cried. “You are not allowed in!“

    Damon shook his head. “It doesn’t really work like that kid. Cars are fair game. Didn’t your mom teach you that?”  

  You responded by throwing a handful of markers at him. Your little face scrunched up in a mixture of fury, fear and pain. “Obviously, she didn’t teach you not to throw things at others.” Damon sighed.  

  “You’re bad! You eat people like the big bad vampire in Red Riding Hunter .” You sniffed indignantly.  

    “Well, I can’t argue with you there, but seriously? The big bad vampire and Red Riding Hunter? You hunters can’t be more original?” Damon mused.

   “I’m not scared of you! You’re just a-a bully.” You snapped, little fist shaking in determination.

   Damon couldn’t help, but smirk at your valor. He had admit you were quite impressive for a little thing. “No you aren’t ” Damon replied. His hands cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him. “And you’ll never be.”  

    Merciful and kindness may not be in his dictionary, but revenge definitely was. And what would be a better revenge than to raise a vampire hunter that hunted their own instead?  

Meeting the Parents

What’s up this is so late but a lotta shit happened around @kiribakuweek2k17 time for me plus I had writing block rip. But I’m back and had something that fits the prompts firsts and family so have a very late entry!


The steady clacking of the train tracks jostled them as they stood together, Kirishima holding onto a pole above his head and wrapping his spare arm around Bakugou’s waist. Today was the first time Bakugou was going to Kirishima’s and meeting his parents, and he was not fucking nervous.

He wasn’t. He just had a stomach ache and somehow it was cold enough in June for his hands to shiver and shake. Kirishima was…reasonably nice. He must have got that from somewhere. Only a weakling would be scared of meeting two nice ladies and a few kids.

However he had never been particularly good with parents. Or anyone, for that matter. And while he didn’t give a shit, Kirishima was different. He was strong and dependable, and all of Bakugou’s aggression and fire bounced off his skin, ricocheting off on the back of hearty laughter. So he might have wanted to impress Kirishima’s parents. Maybe. Desperately. And fuck it was ridiculous because it wouldn’t matter anyway and he was still the same awesome guy and Eijirou would still probably, hopefully, go anywhere with him (do anything for him) even without his parents approval.

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Julian's birthday surprise

This is a quick fic i wrote as a collab with the wonderful and talented @blxckthorns . This takes place between Lady Midnight and Lord of Shadows. Hope you enjoy!!

    It was that time of year. The Blackthorn siblings gathered in the library to plan what had to be the biggest surprise ever. Julian’s birthday present! Julian would step out of their and Emma’s way for their present to be prepared and the family would get out of Jules’ way when it was time for their birthdays. It was a sort of family tradition. They tried so hard to do the things they thought Julian would like because he always tried so hard for them, but they could never reach his level present-giving perfection. Every year needed to be better than the last though; it was an unspoken rule among them.  

Not that that would be hard this year because last year because… well, they had agreed never to speak about the unwelcome (demon) guest ever again.

But it definitely wasn’t an easy task. Whenever one Blackthorn came up with an idea, another shot it down. Nothing was good enough. One year they had decided to just vote on what to do, but Dru had protested that when it became clear that worked only in the twins’ favour.

“Alright, stop moping and get to work! This is not how you come up with the perfect present!” Emma barged into the room, back from sending Jules away with whatever excuse she had come up with this time. Probably something obscure like an escaped elephant from the zoo, but Jules understood they needed the time.

This year, there were three new thinkers who followed Emma into the room: Mark, Cristina, and Perfect Diego. Dru immediately straightened at the Centurion’s entrance, and Emma stifled a giggle at the younger girl’s antics.

Shaking her head, Livvy leaned towards Ty and whispered something in his ear, and he quickly stood up to leave the room.

“Livvy what’d you do? We said no more cheating the system,” Emma asked, cracking her knuckles interrogation style.

“Yeah!” Tavvy chimed in, shaking his little fist in the air.

“This year, there will be no cheating, only-”

“I hope we aren’t too late. The invitation did say- Oh no, wait! I wasn’t invited.” The voice sounded bored and hurt at once, a talent the Blackthorns had thought only Emma had.

It was Kit, the devilish grin adorning his face at odds with his words. Behind him Ty shuffled in, a less glamorous, less Herondale, entrance.

“So people, when’s the party starting?”

Cue all the Blackthorns’ exasperated sighs. “Take a seat. Both of you.” Livvy grinned at the two boys as Ty sat down next to her again, and she motioned towards a beanbag for Kit. When he sat a few feat away from the table and the rest of the party planners, she sighed and went over to drag him closer. Kit said nothing, but raised an eyebrow at her feat of strength.

“To answer your question, Kit, right now, we’re thinking of what to make Julian for his birthday.”

“I didn’t ask that. I asked when the party was so I could come back then. Why would I care-”

All of a sudden, Mark stood up, so quickly his chair went flying. “I know! We should bake him a, a- what do you call it?” He looked at Cristina, hoping for her assistance.

“A cake?”

Mark nodded his head. “Yes, that one!”

Emma clapped excitedly, as did Dry, who actually squealed. Cristina just frowned at Mark for a second. “Did they not have cakes in Faerie?”

“In revels sometimes. They probably had them at the Courts. But never for us lowly Hunters.”

Cristina shook her head and reached out a hand towards Mark in sympathy.

“Ahem,” Perfect Diego cleared his throat. Cristina dropped her hand quickly, flushing. “I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but Mark’s idea wouldn’t work. Remember Julian’s reaction last time you used his kitchen?”

Everyone shuddered. They definitely did. Kit perked up as if excited to hear the story.

Emma’s response came quickly though. “Shut up you Debbie Downer. We’ll clean up this time. Julian will love it!!” She threw an arm around Mark, probably trying to make up for the clearly romantic moment between Cristina and Emma’s ‘boyfriend’, though the Blackthorns would never know. “Let’s head down to the kitchen. If YOU don’t want to come, Perfect Diego, you can stay here, and we’ll keep your name out of it. But the rest of us are going.” She left the room before any protests could sound.

Slowly everyone got up - even Perfect Diego, albeit reluctantly - and headed to the kitchen where Emma had gone all out to try and clean proof things. She had taken a whole roll of paper towels and spread them across the counters, just in case things got messy and covered the floor in saran wrap. Livvy whispered something about adding paper towels to the shopping list before Jules noticed they were gone, but even then she joined all the others in looking awed by the effort Emma had put in.

“Okay guys! Who’s ready to bake the most amazing cake in the history of cakes?”

“Maybe we could start with the most amazing cake in the history of cakes in Faerie? You know, seeing as they don’t have any,” Kit suggested, earning a dark look from Emma and Cristina, among others.

“Shut up, Herondale. Okay, down to business. Does anyone know how to bake a cake?”

Apart from a grumbled “I’m a Rook, not a Herondale” it was utterly silent. You could hear crickets chirping in the background, it was so quiet.

Emma gave a shaky laugh. “Okay, it can’t be that hard right? All we should need is sugar, flour, and eggs, right?”

“Right.” The response came from Livvy, who was currently winding her way through the crowd to try to grab the listed ingredients from the refrigerator and cupboards, which were covered in bubble wrap for some reason.


“Just taking precautions, by the angel! Some people just don’t understand the art of being careful.”

That earned a snort from Dru and a hurried conversation between the twins explaining the saying.

Emma, with Cortana, sliced open the five layers of bubble wrap covering the fridge and with Livvy’s help gathered all the ingredients she had listed (and some substitutes). They had run out of sugar, so it was Mark, Cristina, and Dru’s jobs to find sweet stuff to put in instead. They didn’t have flour, so with Tavvy left in charge of that, a few daisies were added to the mix a few minutes later.

Then came the real struggle.


“So, where’s the chicken?” Mark asked.

Quickly, Cristina reassured him they already had eggs, and pressed the box in his hands. But clearly the trouble wasn’t over. Mark opened the box and peered in confusedly. “I’m sorry but there’s no chicken eggs in Faerie and I’m pretty sure we had a cook before… everything.”

“What are you trying to say Mark?” Emma smiled knowingly.

It was silent for a while. Then Mark raised his eyes from the eggs and met hers, awkwardly. “Help?” Emma smiled and nodded, wrapping her arms around Mark from behind, but only Cristina could tell her heart wasn’t into the romance of it all. As she guided Mark’s hand to the edge of the counter and tried to teach him how to crack open an egg (which she wasn’t so great at herself), Tavvy rushed past, knocking into them. Emma managed to regain footing but as she stumbled she squashed the egg, and it splattered onto Mark’s shirt.

Dru giggled behind them. “I don’t think that’s how you do it.” Another giggle followed, this time from Tavvy.

A bit of whispering sounded, surprisingly coming from Kit, who was either silent or criticising someone in front of everyone. A second later Livvy and Ty came up behind Emma, who was desperately trying to rub egg from Mark’s shirt (and only making it worse), each with an egg in hand.

“Hey, Mark! Want to learn how to do this properly?” With that cue from Kit, the twins smashed the eggs on both Mark and Emma’s backs.

Emma’s eyes flashed dangerously as she reached for another egg. “Herondale. Ty. Livvy. You all are dead to me.” Then she threw the egg, nailing Kit in the stomach.

“Not. Herondale. Rook,” was the last thing Kit gasped before falling to his knees, clutching his stomach a little overdramatically. Looking up through long lashes he pumped his fist in the air. “Attack!”

A silent pause. Then: the kitchen burst into action. Mark and Cristina joined Emma in throwing eggs and they landed intentionally really far off from their targets. One of the eggs hit the light fixture above them, blowing out the lights. Perfect Diego seemed to have lost it, screaming: “No, not the lights!” and “Put those eggs down!” at random moments. Dru and Tavvy joined the twins in chucking the candy they had been in the process of crushing as substitute for sugar at Perfect Diego, Emma, Cristina, and Mark.

Kit still lay in the middle on the floor, seemingly trying to make snow angels in the saran wrap. It looked innocent enough but Emma soon spotted what he was doing.

“By the angel, you really do want us all to die! Stop that! You little instigator!”

She kicked at Kit’s hand which was clawing away at the saran wrap on the floor, so the ground underneath was covered in egg and candy dust.

“You wouldn’t tell me what happened last time you ruined his kitchen, so I’m causing a repeat.”

Just then, the door to the kitchen flew open. All of the Blackthorns froze. It was Julian.

“Happy Birthday?” Emma called weakly from the dark as an egg slipped down the wall and landed on Jules’ head.

Everyone was silent. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…” Tavvy sang. The rest of the family joined in as Julian just glared at all off them, covered in candy and egg yolk.

Some called it Herondale bravery, but those in the room at that moment would have called it Herondale stupidity, that which caused Kit to grab behind him at an egg yolk and fling it in Julian’s hair. Silence lapsed yet again.

“Oh Kit. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You refuse to train, and I’ve had 17 years of target practice. I won’t miss.”

Kit looked him straight in the eye, the colour of night sky meeting the colour of the sea. He flashed that trademark devilish from and said: “I’m not afraid of you. This is a food fight. I went to public schools. This is the kind of fight you can’t win.”

Julian smiled, a smile so hard and cold it could cut glass, as he grabbed crushed sugar from the counter and threw it at Kit.


And so for the second time in just a few minutes Kit shouted “Attack!” and all hell broke loose.


Two pieces in two days…Yay, I guess?

This one is for Noctis this time. It takes place before the battle with Ardyn. I was inspired by the pre-funeral held for Augustus in ‘The Fault in Our Stars’.

Angst, feels and a few laughs ahead.

References to ‘The Fault in Our Stars’‘Four Weddings and a Funeral’, and ‘Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2′ ahead. I don’t own those, ok?

Recommended Song: “One More Day” by Diamond Rio

No S/O this time, just the bros.

Tagging: @itshaejinju @ohgodsnowwhat @stunninglyignis @chocobabyporcelain @angelic-guardienne @zacklover24 @bespectacled-girl @crown-city-moogle @insomniacapples @blindbae @themissimmortal @eternallydaydreaming2015 @poisonous-panda @misaki-kurenai @ultimoogle @stephicness @rubyphilomela @asoeiki @sweetchocobae


“Hasn’t changed much, has it?” Noctis asked. “Everything’s still where I left it.”

The four of them were currently in his old room in the Citadel, taking a bit of a break before going to the throne room to confront Ardyn. Fighting through a city’s worth of daemons and the Infernian was no easy task.

Each member of the group was spread out across the room, all with their own respective space: Gladiolus by the door (in case Ardyn tried to launch a sneak attack), Prompto by the window trying to take pictures of the Citadel, Ignis seated on one of the black sofas in the middle of the room, and Noctis sprawled out on his old bed.

“Nah,” Gladiolus replied. “The King pretty much told everyone not to try and touch your stuff. Hell, he even had me and Iggy check on it at least once a week to make sure nothing had changed.”

“Seriously?” Noctis chuckled. “A little much, don’t you think?”

“Well,” Ignis cut in, facing your general direction. “His Majesty wanted to make sure that, in the event that you would return to the Citadel, everything would be just as if you had never even left.”

“Down to the dirty clothes though?” Prompto scrunched up his nose in mock disgust, holding up a faded black t-shirt that looked like it had seen better days. Turning to Noctis, he joked, “Seriously, dude. Which one of us was living alone again?”

They all let out a hearty series of laughs, exhaustion temporarily forgotten. For a moment, the party of four imagined that they were all just hanging out in Noctis’ room on a normal day…

Not on their way to send Noctis to his death.

Somehow, all present seemed to remember that little fact and the laughter immediately died down. All that hung in the air now was a heavy silence loaded with grief.

No one spoke, nor did anyone move a muscle. Collectively, everyone wanted to just make time stop, suddenly have Bahamut or any other Astral tell you all that there was another way to save your King…Hell, even wishing that Ardyn would just give up and off himself.

Anything to keep them all together.

Noctis suddenly stood up from his place on the bed, Gladiolus and Prompto watching as he went to stand in front of the television. For a moment, they wondered what he was doing before the realization sank in.

“Noct?” Ignis asked, a slight tremble to his voice as he turned to where he knew the King had stopped. “Is it time?”

“Yeah,” he replied, an uneasy smile on his face.

“Sure you wanna go through with this, buddy?” Prompto was shaking a little now, fists clenching and unclenching. “We don’t have to if you wanna back out.”

“Hey, he said he really wanted to do it,” Gladiolus said, giving the gunner a light pat on the back. “Besides, our hard work would’ve gone to waste if we didn’t go through with it. Right, Noct?”

“Y-yup,” he tried to put on a brave face for his brothers. Shooting a sad yet grateful look at his Shield, Noctis took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Okay, who wants to go first?”


“I’ll start off this pre-funeral, if you guys don’t mind,” Gladiolus spoke up. Prompto and Ignis nodded in his direction, the Shield now making his way toward Noctis, who had made himself comfortable on the sofa beside Ignis to make it easier for the blind man later on.

“Alright, big guy,” the Chosen King replied. “What do you have for me?”

“A poem, actually,” Gladiolus sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “One I wrote myself.”

He rummaged in his pockets before pulling out a sheet of crumpled paper. Smoothing it out, he cleared his throat before he began to read.

“Stop all the clocks, cut off all the phones,

Prevent Umbra from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum,

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

“Let airships circle, moaning overhead,

Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is dead’,

Put crepe bows ‘round lamp posts on the streets that he loves,

Let the Hunters of Eos wear black cotton gloves.

“He was my North, my South, my East, my West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,

I thought our brotherhood would last forever: I was wrong.”

Gladiolus paused to take a breath, his normally even voice cracking ever so slightly. When he had recovered enough, he continued with the last verse.

“The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.”

As the last word tumbled from his lips, Gladiolus excused himself from the room, muttering something about scouting the bathroom in case Ardyn showed up. When the door had closed behind him, Ignis spoke up.

“Might I have my turn next, Noct?” He asked quietly, his voice trembling.

“O-of course, Specs,” Noctis coughed out, trying to hold in his tears. “As soon as Gladio gets back, alright?”

A nod, then total silence…

Save for the muffled sobs from the behind the bathroom door.


When Gladiolus had returned from his ‘recon’, Ignis pulled out his own piece of paper from his pocket. This one was neatly folded, the text in Braille.

“Alright, Ignis,” Noctis turned to address his adviser. “Let’s have it.”

The strategist cleared his throat before he spoke.

“Noctis Lucis Caelum was a selfish, lazy prince who hated vegetables, loved to sleep in, and generally give his ever-loyal companions some form of grief.”

Gladiolus and Prompto burst into laughter at the introduction, Noctis burying his head in his hands.

Igniiiiiis,” the black-haired man whined. “Really? You’re gonna call me out now?”

“Better late than never, Highness,” Ignis smirked. “You asked me to write down what I wanted to say, did you not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis groaned, lips twitching into a smile. “Anyway, are you just going to diss on me the entire eulogy or what?”

“I was just getting to that,” Ignis replied. “Unless you don’t want me to continue?”

“Keep going, Iggy,” Gladiolus snorted. “I wanna hear the rest of it.”

“Hear, hear!” Prompto cackled, clutching his side from laughing too much. 

“Aaaand, that’s enough from the peanut gallery,” Noctis chuckled. “Seriously though. Go ahead, Specs.”

“Very well,” he cleared his throat once more, allowing the energy in the room to die down a little before resuming his eulogy.

“In spite of all this, we forgive him and continue to remain by his side. We do so not because he is royalty, and we are sworn to protect him at the cost of our own lives. Neither is it because he is the one chosen by the Astrals to purge the world of the Starscourge, or because he had thirty-odd years when he should have gotten more.”

“Just thirty, Specs,” Noctis teased.

“Time is a strange thing in this new world, Noct,” Ignis replied. “Calendars and such were done away with for the most part. This was written assuming your birthday may have already passed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis shrugged. “Just get on with it, Specky.”

“Of course,” Ignis continued.

“Noct’s patience was quite short as well, so much so that he would keep interrupting you at his own funeral just to tell you to hurry up.” This elicited a snort from Gladiolus and Prompto.

“He was also quite moody. Astrals above, he couldn’t even breathe without complaining about something that was bothering him. Plus, he was quite silly. I do not believe I have ever met someone with as much…sharpness as Noct has ‘erryday’.” He adopted a lightly teasing tone, his charge’s catchphrase strange on his tongue. The other two members of their group were once again howling with laughter, with their guest of honor muttering curses under his breath.

When everyone had calmed down enough, Ignis spoke once more, his tone grave.

“I shall say this, however, of my beloved charge and brother. If the day comes where technology has advanced enough that they may be able to replace my eyes, I will politely tell them to shove off…” He trailed off, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.

“For I would rather spend just one more night with him as I am than to spend a lifetime of seeing without him.”

When Ignis had finished, the room was draped in heavy silence once more, only broken by Noctis’ shuffling to hug his beloved adviser.


“I guess…it’s my turn now, huh?” Prompto timidly asked once he could find his voice again. What Ignis and Gladiolus had written…they caused the blond to nearly break down right then and there.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Noctis grinned at his best friend. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

“Alright..I can do this,” the gunner muttered to himself, taking a few deep breaths before grabbing the creased paper in his pocket and addressing the black-haired man.

“So…how’s it going?” Prompto began. “My name is Prompto Argentum, and Noctis Lucis Caelum was pretty much my best friend for life. The story of our friendship is an epic one…one which I probably wouldn’t be able to describe in more than one sentence before I turn into a crying mess.” He chuckled sadly at this, noting the encouraging stares (and presence, from Ignis) of his brothers.

“Like all stories of friendship, ours will die with us, as it should,” Prompto continued, feeling the lump in his throat threaten to resurface. He tried to play it off with a nervous laugh as he read the rest of his eulogy. “You know, back then, I was hoping I’d stay friends with him long enough for him to be doing this for me since there’s really no one else…um…”

The blond paused for a minute to compose himself, tears threatening to spill out at any given second. He flinched slightly when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, looking up to see Noctis.

“You wanna continue, Prompto?” He asked, smiling sadly. “I don’t blame you if you wanna stop…”

“No,” the gunner replied immediately, shaking his head. “I wrote this especially for you, buddy. I’ll be damned if you don’t get to hear it all.”

“Alright then,” the Chosen King chuckled. “Have it your way.”

“Damn right I will,” Prompto joked back. Gladiolus and Ignis both sent him a small smile, proud of how much their youngest member has grown over the past decade.

“Anyway…Like I said, since I can’t talk about our friendship without me being admitted to the nearest psych ward, I’m gonna talk about something I hate: math.” This elicited chuckles from his three companions, causing a smile to appear on his own lips before continuing.

“I’ve never been good at math, but I’m sure of this: There are infinite numbers between zero and one. Point one, point two, and so on…like I said, infinite. Of course, there are bigger sets of infinite numbers between…let’s say…zero and a million. Some infinities are bigger than others…a certain asshole taught us that lesson.”

“Y’know, there’d be days when I honestly resented the size of the set I’d been given. They just seemed too much, especially during the darkest times in my life. But now?” Prompto paused and bit his lip, a pained expression on his face. “Now, I just want more numbers than I know I’m gonna get. Astrals, I want the same thing for Noct too, more than anything.”

“Noct, buddy,” Prompto looked directly at his best friend now, tears flowing seemingly endlessly. “I just wanna say thanks for the infinity you gave me, even if I was nothing special…even after finding out the truth about me. I wouldn’t trade the forever we had for anything in the world.”


“So…should we get moving?” Gladiolus addressed the group once tears had been shed.

“Let’s,” Ignis replied quietly, adjusting his Kingsglaive coat as he stood. “Let’s not keep the Chancellor waiting any longer.”

“Wait,” Noctis said as he put a hand on the blind man’s shoulder, causing the other two to look in his direction as well.

“What’s up, dude?” Prompto tried to sound cheerful. “Not getting cold feet are you?”

“No, but…” Noctis trailed off, suddenly finding the carpet to be quite interesting.

“How many times do I have to remind you?” Gladiolus said jokingly. “Just spit it out already, Noct.”

The Chosen King let out a sigh as he pulled a piece of paper out of his coat pocket and presented it to the group, a small gasp escaping from Prompto’s lips.

“What is going on?” Ignis asked, hearing the blond’s exclamation of surprise.

“Oh, my bad,” the gunner turned to him sheepishly. “Noct wrote out something too.”

“Well, it would be a waste if we didn’t hear him out, wouldn’t it?” Ignis sent a small smile in his liege’s direction.

“Damn right,” Gladiolus chuckled sadly. “Besides, His Highness will get sulky if we don’t.”

“Good that you know that, big guy,” Noctis smirked at his Shield before unfolding the paper and reading his own eulogy for them.

“Iggy and Gladio know that, when I was a kid, I pretended to be a normal guy: someone with a mother who took great care of the family, a father who was around all the time and did whatever normal fathers and sons did with me, and maybe a brother or sister with whom I could goof around with and be myself around.”

“It never really struck me until ten years ago,” Noctis chuckled sadly, taking a good look at his companions before continuing. “But it turns out that I ended up making my dreams come true after all.”

He paused to turn and directly address his adviser. “Ignis may not be someone who sings me lullabies or tucks me in at night, but he does make sure that our asses aren’t cooked and used in one of his ‘recipehs’ at the end of the day.”

“Happy to oblige,” Ignis sent him a sad smile.

Noctis then faced his Shield and looked him directly in the eye. “Gladio wasn’t a guy who could give me advice or play a game of catch with me without wanting to embarrass me first, but he always made it a point to keep my head on straight and light a fire under my sorry ass whenever I needed it.”

“Well, someone’s gotta do it,” Gladiolus replied, his voice cracking.

Finally, he looked at his best friend and sent him a small smile. “Prompto…he was all that I could ask for and more in a brother. The trips to the arcade, the way he’d keep all of our spirits up on the road…Definitely the best sibling a guy could have.”

The blond tried to reply with a witty remark of his own, only for a few choked sobs to come out.

“All things considered, I had a pretty damn good family…”

This was all Noctis could get out before he broke down, hot tears hitting the plush carpet. He suddenly felt warmth surrounding him as his family pulled him in for a hug, the four holding each other in silence.

Soulmate!AU: Jack Morrison x Reader - Ineffable (Part 1/3)

ineffable - (adj) too great to be expressed in words

Summary: Please forgive us, summaries are really not one of our strengths. Just so you know, this is a soulmate!AU where the whole world is black and white until you look your soulmate into the eyes for the first time. 
Pairing: Jack MorrisonxReader
Warning: Mercy mains might get offended by the short mention of Genji needing healing. 
word count: 6,346

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

For the writing prompts, if you're still doing them: sugakookie and 9? Love you xx

9. things you said when i was crying

also @vmin-ontae​ also prompted the same thing!! so i am doing both in one hope u both enjoy :*** this is sort of inspired by the recent pics of jungkook looking tired and emotional and needing infinite cuddles

Jungkook’s feet clomp heavily down the stairs off the stage, and he feels each step jarring through him. Being in America is like being on another planet. No matter how much sleep he gets, he still feels the suffocating exhaustion that seems to drag on for days at a time.

And he tries so hard to be grateful. Because everything about it is incredible — the fact that they are even able to tour in sold out arenas in a country on the other side of the world to Korea is something that he still hasn’t managed to wrap his head around. Everyone has been so welcoming and the fans are amazing. It’s just… he misses his bed and their comfortingly chaotic apartment. He misses sharing a space with the other band members — doesn’t like the single hotel rooms as much as he thought he would.

They huddle after the show for a few minutes and Jungkook finds an abandoned hoodie that he claims. It’s probably Taehyungs. He’s always cold on their way into the concert and then runs hot for a few hours afterwards, discarding jumpers around the greenroom. Jungkook tries not to look like he’s anxious to get back to the hotel, dropping onto the couch and waiting until they get the go ahead to make their way to the van. Yoongi sits next to him, a hand on his knee to stop his leg from bouncing up and down.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks, voice quiet with all the noise around them.

Jungkook slumps against the couch. He just wants to close his eyes and sleep. “Yeah,” he says. Yoongi raises an eyebrow at the way Jungkook’s face falls when their manager says they’re going to have to wait at least half an hour before they go back to the hotel because there traffic around the arena is at a standstill. He looks up at Yoongi and his lip wobbles pathetically. He hates himself for it a little bit. “Okay, no, not really.”

His hyung moves instantly, turning on the couch to face Jungkook and pulling him forwards so his face is buried in Yoongi’s shoulder, facing away from the room. “C’mere,” Yoongi says as his hand soothes over Jungkook’s back. “It’s been a really long few weeks.”

Jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and maybe one little sob shakes his shoulders, his hands coming up to fist in Yoongi’s jacket. Not that Yoongi is making any indication that he’s going to let Jungkook go. In fact, he pulls him closer and Jungkook allows himself to go completely pliant, burrowing into his chest. “I miss home,” he whines and he knows how petulant he sounds, but Yoongi just sort of coos in his ear — the little sound is foreign coming from him, but it makes Jungkook feel okay for a moment.

“I miss home too,” Yoongi admits. “I miss having our own space where we can all just be together.” Jungkook doesn’t know how Yoongi reads his mind at times like this.

“Well how come you’re, y’know… not sniffling into someone’s chest?”

Yoongi laughs, the movement shaking Jungkook a little and he looks up at his hyung, bringing up a hand to swipe at his eyes. “Someone’s gotta be here for you to sniffle into, right?”

Jungkook smiles (albeit, it’s a little watery). “Thank you, hyung.”

“You’re welcome.” Yoongi boops his nose with his finger and it’s so unexpected that Jungkook is surprised into a laugh, a blush colouring his cheeks.

He buries his head into Yoongi’s chest again. Though this time, it’s not to hide.

Send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a minific

spillywolf  asked:

Plot twist: Bethesda releases a DLC that allows you to romance Strong but Deacon, Nick and X6 are still off-limits.

I would literally cry