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That moment you die in The Answer and get an unexpected punch to the heart

Imagine giving Woozi lots of forehead kisses because you know he likes them the most.

Draco Malfoy aesthetic.

iwa from Where Worlds Collide and Days Are Dark by the wonderful Allie ( @eclecticinkling ) and Remmi ( @katsukibaku )


anonymous asked:

Darcy x Johnny Storm soulmate fic where johnny had rejected her and the idea of soulmates and Darcy had come to accept that, but now he wants to retract that statement, but she doesn't want to...? Sorry, I don't know if that makes sense

“Darcy, can I talk to you for a second?”

Her fingers didn’t slow as she transcribed notes, focusing on her screen. Because screw him.

“Aren’t you already doing that?”

He cleared his throat.


She stopped typing and glanced around the lab, spotting Jane tinkering silently across the lab not having noticed their company. Probably the only reason it was still so quiet. Darcy turned back to Johnny with a pointed glare before going back to her work.

“What, worried Jane will threaten you with intergalactic exile again?”

He hesitated for a second and from the corner of her eye, she saw his shoulders droop.


The one word was quiet. Something so contradictory with everything that was Johnny Storm.

Wishing she could just ignore it, she turned to face him. It wasn’t the please that made her pause as much as the fact that he was actually looking directly at her, pleading in his eyes. Ever since his less-than-graceful rejection at their last meeting, he hadn’t been able to look at her. Over her shoulder, past her ear, above her head, but not at her. Guilty conscious much? But Darcy had always let curiosity get the best of her (read: the entire internship with Jane), so she figured she’d see what he was about this time.

Without a word, she stepped away from her computer and walked out to the hallway, folding her arms as she leaned against the wall, silently waiting for Johnny to stop pacing and actually face her again.

He stopped walking, but fidgeted, shifting between clenched fists and shaking, slightly smoking fingers.

“So, uh, I might have handled things badly last time.”

A snort was her first response.

“You think? Mr. “Thanks for existing I guess, but you aren’t for me.”

He winced, hands definitely clenching and smoking now..

“Like I said, not my best.”

Darcy opened her mouth to let another thought fly, but stopped. It wasn’t worth it. Not anymore. With a sigh, she dropped a couple inches lower into her lean on the wall and dropped her arms to her side. 

“Look, I think you made yourself clear then and every time you’ve ignored me since. I’ve moved on, so just tell me what you want so we can get this over with.”

His head had snapped up as she spoke.

“Moved on? You’re seeing someone?”

“Does it matter?”

“Well, uh, yeah, I mean. To me it does.”

She couldn’t find anything to say and he pressed on after a couple fraught seconds.

“Because I’ve been thinking the last couple months. I think I was wrong.”

“You think you were wrong?” she repeated his words without emotion, but he nodded enthusiastically

“I know I was wrong. And, uh, I want to give a shot.”

“Give what a shot?”

He started talking faster, hands up and gesturing between them.

“You. Me. The whole soulmate thing.”

“You want to do ‘the whole soulmate thing’?”

She wasn’t sure what all he meant by that, but didn’t really care anymore. Instead of asking him to clarify, she let out a huff and pushed herself of the wall, heading back to the lab with a shake of her head.


She felt the heat of his hand near her wrist, but jerked it away.


He didn’t reach for her again, but walked beside her to the door.

“Come on, just say something. Please.”

Darcy paused at the doorway, turning to stare him in the face.

“Eat a dick.” 

Khaleero Alteri comes from the small town of Marshall Bay in the southern tip of Port Caell. Raised in a relatively normal home, Khaleero found himself fascinated by the beauty and artistry of weapons. He would find himself separated from his parents when they would go to the market fairly often; losing track of time while admiring the fine weaponry for sale. Around the time of his 15th birthday, he began an apprenticeship under the local blacksmith where he would learn much of his craft and eventually come to open up his own shop 6 years later on his 21st birthday. 

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