#arrow gag reel

[joezy27]

Hawkeye - The Complete 1st Season coming on 4K UHD

Marvel Studios' Hawkeye is an original series set in post-blip New York City where former Avenger Clint Barton/Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) has a seemingly simple mission: get back to his family for Christmas. But when a threat from his past shows up, Hawkeye reluctantly teams up with Kate Bishop (Hailee Steinfeld), a 22-year-old skilled archer and his biggest fan, to unravel a criminal conspiracy.

Bonus Features

- A Tale of Two Hawkeyes - Discover how the cast and crew extended the Hawkeye legacy, bringing together Clint Barton and new character Kate Bishop.

- Gag Reel - Take a look at some of the hilarious outtakes on set with the cast and crew of Hawkeye.

- Assembled: The Making of Hawkeye - Peer behind the scenes of the show with Jeremy Renner, Hailee Steinfeld, and the rest of the cast and crew.

Deleted Scenes

Follow the Trail: Young Kate leaves behind clues for a scavenger hunt.

At The Stake: Clint reluctantly celebrates with a group of fans in the city.

Burning of the Suit: Clint burns the Ronin suit.

Kate’s First Day at Work: Kate uses her awkward first day at work to her advantage.

Ice Cream: Little Maya finds out her dad can't pick her up from -practice.

Detour: Clint and Kate find an unmarked car in front of her apartment.

Friends?: Little Maya and Little Kazi meet for the first time when their fathers do business together.

You Never Miss: Clint's relationship with his mom is revealed through childhood memories. Clint and his mom attempt to rob a convenience store, which ends up a disaster.

Moira Comes Home: Moira chases Clint and Kate out of her apartment.

Old Friend: Clint prepares a familiar weapon.

Sorry: Maya and Clint have a moment of understanding after a battle.

Until It’s Done: Eleanor takes a trip to have dinner. A shocking insight is revealed.

Boomerang: Clint and Kate gather supplies at a sporting goods store to build trick arrows.

SteelBook artwork by Attila Szarka

- Release date: December 3, 2024

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #641

Top Ten Funniest Moments in the MCU

I’m about halfway through my planned re-watch of all the Fox-produced Marvel movies (the various mutant-related films, the Fantastic Fours, and Daredevil/Elektra). I’m doing this to soak up as much of the universe as I can before the release of Deadpool and Wolverine at the end of next month. Partly just coz, but also because if I know one thing about Deadpool, it’s that he likes biting the hand that feeds him. A studio being bought, its IP strip-mined, and a cinematic universe flushed away in order to reboot the X-Men within the more-successful MCU? He’s bound to make a few gags about that, right?

So I was thinking, initially, of doing a Top Ten about characters that might cameo – or be referenced – in D&W. Y’know, bring back James Marsden as Cyclops but then do absolutely nothing with him and have him killed off-screen; that sort of thing. I mean, the trailer appears to feature characters as random as Pyro, Lady Deathstrike, and Azazael. But then I thought that wasn’t really very interesting, if for no other reason than I don’t actually think the film will be a cameo-fest. There have been quite a few movies and shows now where us – the rabid Marvel fanbase – got ourselves worked up into a lather at the multiversal possibilities (remember the Mephisto fever around WandaVision?). So I’ve got a funny feeling that D&W will actually turn out to have a relatively straightforward story, rather than just be something that bounces crazily from one Fox property to another.

Far better, I thought, to highlight something that the Deadpool movies are very good at: comedy. One of the defining characteristics, really, of the MCU was its sense of humour, right from the start; Downey’s semi-improvised wisecracks and Jon Favreau’s aptitude at directing comedy helped make Iron Man very distinct from the very serious likes of the X-Men films, Daredevil, and Nolan’s Batman trilogy (The Dark Knight came out the same summer as Iron Man, both big superhero films about arrogant billionaires wearing suits of armour, and yet the two are tonally quite different). Anyway, whilst very few MCU films actually go all-out for comedy the way the Deadpool movies do (and, of course, never as caustically), the point is the MCU has always been very funny.

And so, to celebrate Deadpool – which is funny – I’m going to look at the funniest moments in the MCU. Of course – of course – humour is entirely subjective, so I’m sure there are some weird lines here that hardly anyone else finds amusing; similarly, I bet there are some really big laughs that I’m leaving out. These are my favourite rib-tickling moments, across sixteen years and thirty-odd films (plus TV shows!).

So there you go. comedy plus superheroes equals, er, more comedy? I dunno. Oh, and I decided halfway through to arbitrarily limit this to one moment per film, just because I wanted to include as much variety as possible. So we lose “is he though?” from Ragnarok, for instance, as well the brilliant “I hate it here, they are so weird” exchange with a henchman in Iron Man 3. Also, funnily enough, I didn’t really remember that many properly hilarious bits from the Ant-Man films, despite them being the closest I think the MCU has gotten to a full-throated comedy so far. And unfortunately I didn’t quite find room – or the right line to reference it – for the trick arrow sequence from Hawkeye. Or a line from Kamala Khan! Sorry, Ms. Marvel!

Let’s get giggling.

“Piss off, ghost!” (Thor: Ragnarok, 2017): ah, Korg. Full of great lines, and Ragnarok might be the MCU’s funniest film. So much to pick from, but his wild – and far too late – attack on Loki’s bit of astral projection, impotently kicking the place where the illusion had been, left me reeling. There’s just something about swearing in that Kiwi accent.

“This place would look like a Jackson Pollock painting.” (Guardians of the Galaxy, 2014): Guardians has a Star Wars aura to it, except it’s scabrous and filthy. Despite the MCU’s first F-bomb in Guardians 3, I think this remains the dirtiest joke in the whole saga.

“Why is Gamora?” (Avengers: Infinity War, 2018): different film, same Guardians, and Drax has been a stand-out from the star, his literalness preventing him from getting any number of references. I could have picked the zarg nuts bit, but this refrain might be the film’s funniest moment.

“I wouldn’t go in there for twenty minutes!” (Iron Man 3, 2013): yes, the poo joke is funny, and everything about Ben Kingsley’s performance as Trevor, Trevor Slattery – the toast of Croydon – is masterful. But it’s the whole reveal, really, that’s funny; the film amps up to this big confrontation, then the rug is pulled in spectacular fashion.

“America’s ass.” (Avengers: Endgame, 2019): Scott’s adoration of Steve is a running gag in the movies, as is Tony ripping on everyone. The initial “ass” moment therefore is very funny and on-brand. But the icing on the cake is when Steve himself echoes the sentiment.

“Puny god,” (The Avengers, 2012): it kinda feels like Avengers was the film that finally nailed the Hulk, and this moment really caps it off. Vainglorious Loki gets his comeuppance, battered across the floor like a ragdoll, Hulk giving us basically his only lines in the film, a twist on his “puny human” refrain from the comics. Lol.

“Agatha All Along!” (WandaVision, 2021): like the Mandarin reveal, the whole twist in WandaVision is in itself somewhat humorous, but the reveal is the true delight, showing us the hidden truth with Agatha’s own theme tune. The button at the end? “And I killed Sparky too!”

“They also scream quite a lot.” (Thor: Love and Thunder, 2022): this line sums up this fantastic, OTT recurring gag in Love and Thunder: the screaming goats. Basically they’re massive goats who scream – loudly – a lot. It’s what I call an “Austin’s piss” joke: it goes on far too long, way past being funny, until it becomes funny again.

“Oh, for god’s sake.” (Avengers: Age of Ultron, 2015): this might need a bit of explaining, but basically James Spader plays Ultron with a beautiful note of frustrated exasperation, best expressed when Hulk flings him from a Quinjet, this quite soft exclamation coming from off-screen. It’s like a funny sigh.

“I was at a wine tasting…” (Ant-Man, 2015): Ant-Man is mostly a comedy, and quite funny throughout, but arguably the stand-out is Michael Peña’s Luis, whose stream-of-consciousness, too-much-information explanations are coupled with great stylised flashbacks. It’s such an hilarious motif it’s shocking they couldn’t find room for it in Quantumania.

There we go – funny! I’m distraught that I couldn’t find room for the Guardians Holiday Special though. It would either have been one of the songs, or Groot’s presents.

[xkryst4lm3thx]

EARTH WIND & FIRE & WATER the song is not enough i need u to email me. cue the pull of the weekend; watch fuck buy regurgitate flush. appropriate junkyard to divebomb eros. took notes & practiced in mirror three times but still trampled profanity over martyr hosts. perched stone to watch him be shy; pilot episode too boring to get thru. slabbed fomo makes longform endangered species [useful only bc its reference point surrounding uselessness]. gagged comparing strengths of mediums: visual instant reveals labor [tedium/haste]. words spoonfeed page to rip a new one. sound linear gut wrench unfolds. movie shotup thru the veins 2hr lifetimes. gripped by largely outdated nostalgia; opioid crisis homage. soon the drones will record us to sell as comfort porn anonymously irresistibly [universal basic income]. might fuck around n hop to another nonethical assisted suicide. briefly quelled by layman’s congruent agony, normalized soulless cubical; ravenous curation when boss is homesick. he’s listening intently but won’t say name or look direct cuz we’ll never c u for the first time again [plastic smell infinite loop fawning tearjerker wedding speech]. rlly what’s there 2say? molecules telepathic drive any necessary scaffold. raunchy themes televise every waking tremble to uphold lose/lose polarity: submersion (drown by talking) or throw phone in river (traditional drown). rare obscure ltd edition directorial debut: powerclash stolen aesthetics, humor, dire connection arrows shot at random. rejects build a tower of denial; forced to ingest backburner filler [workout, cook, clean, journal, think about him, publically gawk envious, privately sketch poorly]. might as well throw caution cuz even celebrities cry. gimmicks fueling panic (lawyers, billboards, gas pumps, scholarships); bulldozer bulldozing a pile of bulldozers in stop motion hyperspeed IG reel. first person table chess proves blithely warbled due to sheer level of planning questioning begging & 4 what? adult childish 2-7+ hours [dollars]. gosh look at the time gotta eat shit shower jackoff scroll yearn. wake me up when september. they’re an expert gardener lighthouse seering burn, working the room like dough; coy intent, unparalleled inquisition, castle walls handpoured while the world sleeps; boils the pot of drool foaming to glimpse the iron gates. bad bitches w gum wrappers laundry cooked in tight pockets. our knight slithers thru tall grass to inject the elixir just when we thought he died.

[gingy7891]

Arrow Season 7 Gag Reel

[arrowsource]

[bindy417]

Arrow Season 4 Gag Reel

[nikethestatue]

Forbidden

Elriel Month - Day 4, Forbidden

Pining, a little bit fluffy, a little bit angsty and plenty of Nyx if you like him

The weather was miserable, and Azriel was miserable as well.

After finishing his work at his office in the city, he would’ve typically walked, but the freezing sleet that bombarded his wings didn’t inspire walking. His mood only worsened the moment he stepped out of the building, and he found himself hating everything. Hating himself, for being a coward, hating Rhys, hating the completely innocent Cassian and Nesta, who were absolutely gracious towards him, and allowed him to remain living in, what was technically, their house now. He rose swiftly in the air, flying towards the red stone monstrosity that was carved into the mountain, while the cold rain pelted his already-freezing wings. Everything was freezing. He could’ve thrown a shield over himself, like a smart male, but he wasn’t being very smart lately. He just didn’t fucking care.

Petulant and morose, he wondered for a millionth time when and why everything went wrong for him? Why was it that the thing he loved and relished the most in his life—his family—were now the cause of his greatest despair? How could his brother, the brother who gave him his new life, who cared for and protected him, who did not judge him and gave him the opportunity to live the life Azriel wanted, who paid him generously and allowed him the freedom to operate as he saw fit—how did this brother suddenly became the impediment to Azriel’s happiness? The brother that Azriel loved and admired now outright forbade Azriel’s happiness. And over what? The ginger princeling that Azriel didn’t care for at all…as he didn’t care for the entire family. He had to sacrifice his happiness to please a Vanserra! The mere thought of it enraged him so intensely, he almost crashed into a roof. As he banked to avoid the green tiles slick with rain, he wondered if Lucien would act as honorably if the roles were reversed? Would he maintain his composure like Azriel always tried to do in Lucien’s presence? Would he fly him in his arms? (Truly, a rather horrifying memory, if Azriel had to admit. Carrying fucking Lucien Vanserra in his arms, like a babe. Like he’d carry Elain. Or even Feyre. He was forced to cradle Lucien!). Would he avoid Elain?

Elain.

Azriel wanted Elain. He always wanted her—wanted her giggly laugh, the sparkle of her caramel eyes, the flip of the braid, the surprisingly firm touch of her calloused fingers, the scent of her, the rosy blush of her cheeks. Even though he was forbidden from courting her, or pursuing her in any fashion, they still came together at family gatherings and Azriel learned of her sharp, sometimes brutal sense of humour, of her inquisitiveness, and of things that surprised him. She let it slip that she wanted to travel, wanted to see the world, the continent, all the Courts. Wanted to eat exotic foods and go to museums and botanic gardens and drink coffee in small cafes. She told him that she dreamed of going to the beach and lazing around in the white sand.

Fuck it.

Tonight, he wanted Elain. He wanted to see her with a desperation that almost hurt his bones. Even if for a few moments. Maybe just at dinnertime, under Rhys’s annoying scrutiny, but he could do it. For her, he could do it. Forbidden or not.

So, he made a sharp turn and flew away from the House of Wind, toward the River Estate. The rain was now relentless and even in his sour mood, he had the presence of mind to finally shield himself, though it did little to dispel his gloomy thoughts.

The house wasn’t warded against his entry—he still had a bedroom and an office in there, though he used it very infrequently now. Shaking off the water that was sluicing off his wings as much as he could, he opened the door and entered.

A roar greeted him. A despondent, angry, colossal roar that came from the pudgy baby that currently wheeled into the foyer in his wooden walker. Nyx was screaming like he was being gutted. His perfectly round face was wet with tears, scrunched up and so red, that Azriel feared that his nephew might be having a conniption.

“Hello?” Azriel called out, as he removed his sodden jacket, and then considered, and removed his boots, so not to drag the water and mud across the marble floor.

Nyx was still screaming angrily, looking at Azriel with a weird challenge in his blue eyes.

Shaking his head, Azriel muttered, “What is going on with you?” and then sent a coil of fluffy shadow towards Nyx. Usually, it was enough to placate the baby and allowed for a moment of reprieve. Nyx, however, watched the shadow with disgust, and as soon as it approached him, he swapped at it with his fat hand, trying to slap it away. The shadow attempted a little jump, eager to play with him, but it only caused a further scream of outrage, as Nyx lunged at it with ferocious hatred, swatting it away, until Azriel pulled all the shadows back, so not to aggravate the situation further. Nyx’s soft baby wings were tangled behind his back, since he kept flaring them in his rage, and then unsuccessfully snapping them back, so Azriel squatted in front of him and began to gently dislodge and straighten them, while Nyx wailed and squirmed in the walker. “What are you, possessed?” muttered Azriel and pulled Nyx out of the walker, and was immediately rewarded with an even louder scream, as snot and drool flew everywhere.

“Azriel!”

There she was.

Everything stopped. Azriel no longer heard Nyx’s grunting and angry squeals, as he held him and stroked his head, gently smoothing down the silky black hair.

He’d never seen Elain so…frazzled. And so beautiful. So…human.

The girl he loved was always put together, even when gardening, in her floppy hat and dungarees, she looked picture perfect. In the kitchen, in her colourful aprons that she bought from one specific shop, she was pretty and pristine. But standing in front of him right now, this was the most lovely Elain that he’d ever seen. Cauldron boil him, but Elain was wearing black…tights? Hose? He didn’t know what they were, and even if he did, he probably couldn’t form a coherent thought in his mind, because he’d never seen Elain quite so…exposed. Those long, slender legs were clad in skin-tight black tights, and there was no escaping the shape of her body, of her lean thighs, of her lovely bare feet and her manicured toes. But what jolted him even more was that she was wearing HIS shirt. One of those shirts that he wore around the house, sparred in, and generally discarded into the laundry hamper when he was done with his exercises. His mind reeled. She was wearing HIS shirt. Why? Gods above, this was the most delicious sight to ever grace his eyes.

Azriel has had many women in his life. Too many females to count. He’s even been with human women, those who dared, and wanted a bit of their own winged Fae experience. He’d seen them naked and prone, had seen them flushed with climaxes, screaming louder than Nyx was currently doing. He’d felt, tasted, touched and filled bodies of every colour and shape. Yet nothing prepared him for the barefoot Elain in her black tights and his shirt. Nothing.

Where was Rhys, for gods’ sake? Where was Feyre? The twins? Servants? Why was he left standing here, with the most desirable and gloriously attired female, all alone? His wings flared involuntarily, his body wanting, yearning for her. Wanting all of her. All of this. Everything that was forbidden to him.

Her braid was loose, honey-coloured strands escaping wantonly and spilling over her shoulder, framing her pale, rosy cheeks.

“Az, you are here!” she exclaimed, eyes widening with what he could only mark as excitement. Maybe even pleasure.

“Good evening,” he tried to sound normal, though his voice felt deep and hoarse and suddenly dropped a couple of octaves. “What is,”

“He lost Brute!” she cried in desperation. “I’ve been looking for fifteen minutes, and I can’t find it! Please,”

“Got it,” he said, tucking Nyx under his arm, like a sack of potatoes.

This was dangerous ground.

 Following their unnecessarily lavish mating ceremony, Cassian and Nesta went on their honeymoon. In Illyria. When Azriel found out, he gagged. Cassian laughed. “You can’t take her somewhere better?” Azriel wondered, shaking his head. “Anywhere is better. The fucking Spring Court is better!” Cassian slapped his shoulder and argued, “Pretty, but deadly. At least to me. I’ll kick the bucket if I spend more than 15 minutes in Spring Court and Nesta will have to bring my dead body back here.” Azriel shrugged, “Might be worth it, if she avoids going to Illyria”. “You are too harsh, brother,” was all Cassian said, though Az felt like he wasn’t harsh enough. Nevertheless, Nesta and Cassian went to Illyria and to everyone’s shock, Nesta loved it! She loved the open spaces, the rugged, wild terrain, the forests and the picturesque lakes. She liked Cassian’s secluded bungalow, which he built himself—actually, the three brothers built it together, back in the day.

One day, there was a country fair celebrating some Illyrian war hero, and Cassian made a date of it. It was a surprise for Nesta, who’d never been to one, and they spent the day wandering from attraction to attraction, eating too much fried food, riding rollercoasters, which made Nesta scream until she was hoarse, and playing games. There was a shooting competition, and Cassian insisted on participating, though he wasn’t an ace with a bow and arrow, but he figured that he was still better than the average Illyrian. He wanted to show off in front of Nesta. Turned out, the average Illyrian was in fact better than the Commander General of the Armies of the Night Court, and Cassian came in third. Third. The prize was a small stuffed bat. Shamefaced, Cassian presented Nesta with the bat, promising to do better next time. So, so much better! Nesta named the bat Brute—after her mate—and upon their return from the honeymoon, she gave the toy to Nyx. And Nyx became obsessed. Brute and Nyx were inseparable and especially after Nyx began teething, leathery Brute came very handy, as Nyx chewed and gnawed on it mercilessly.

Azriel sent his shadows to search for Brute throughout the house, while he went room to room, looking in all the places that Nyx frequented in his walker. Nyx was only nine months old, but he already managed to say a few odd words. There was ‘ma’, “Lana”—which stood for Elain, “no”, and “Boot” or “Oot” or “Boo” which all referred to Brute. Nothing for Rhys yet, much to Rhys’s chagrin. Az got “Ath”, with a lisp. And of course, everyone’s favorite – “ass” for Cass.

“I already looked there,” said Elain, as she dove under an armchair, her tight little bum up in the air, while Azriel was cursing inwardly, unable to tear his eyes off the sight, disregarding Nyx’s slobbering over his arm. Nyx was getting tired of screaming—finally—so he was mostly hiccupping, sniffling and rubbing his eyes with his chubby first.

“I think I got it!” cried Azriel, once the shadows informed him that Brute has been located. He rushed up the stairs, taking three at a time, with Nyx bouncing under his arm and finally found the toy entangled in Nyx’s blanket. The first place Azriel should’ve looked. Both he and Elain were clearly off their game.

Nyx squealed with delight once Brute was safely in his hands and latched on to it with his aching gums. Tears were forgotten. Azriel lightly kissed the top of the baby’s head and then went downstairs.

Elain was awaiting them in the foyer and seeing the placated Nyx, she also gasped with delight, clapping lightly and then…she rushed and kissed Azriel’s cheek.

“Thank you,” she murmured, and he just stared at her, a smile on his lips.

“High praise for finding a toy,” he said at last, but Elain only grabbed his hand and threaded her fingers with his.

“No one is home?” he asked softly, and she gave him a knowing look, shaking her head. His thumb gently rubbed her fingers, as they walked to the kitchen.

“You will stay for dinner,” she said. More of an order.

“Yes.”

“We have to feed him,” she nodded towards Nyx.

Without releasing the baby, Azriel rolled up his sleeves and set to work. He washed Nyx’s wet, sticky face first, took out a fresh bib, which was immediately greeted with ‘no bip!”. “Yes, bib,” insisted Azriel, trying to tie it, while Nyx struggled and attempted to tear it off. Elain chuckled under her breath, watching the battle.

“He is like the Attor today!” groaned Azriel, as he finally succeeded in tying the bib, “is this how he always is? His parents need to discipline their damn kid better.”

She laughed.

“Where are they anyway?”

“The opera,” she explained.

Nothing gave Elain more pleasure than experiencing these stolen moments with Azriel.

A few months back, Rhysand, in no uncertain terms explained to her that at this point, a relationship between her and Azriel would be politically disadvantageous and therefore, ill-advised. The silver-tongued High Lord made his arguments clear, but with that irresistible firm gentleness that he employed on everyone, when he wanted something. Elain nodded, a neutral expression plastered on her face, while her heart shuttered, and something cracked in her chest. Whatever Rhysand was saying, the order was clear—she was forbidden from seeking Azriel out.

The ache…the ache inside of her only grew since then. It wasn’t an ache of sadness or despair, for deep down, Elain was absolutely sure that Azriel would find a way. He always did. And she trusted him unconditionally, knowing that nothing would stop him in his pursuit of her. Forbidden or not, they both craved each other with a wild, inexplicable hunger, and Azriel would find a way to circumvent all the restrictions that were placed on them. However, the knowledge did nothing to ease the desire that constantly coursed through her. Seeing him was a most delicious torment, a sweet, lacerating pain that never went away. When she awoke in the morning, she thought of Azriel, and when she went to bed at night, he was her last thought of the day. It was always Azriel.

He sat Nyx in his highchair.

“Are they coming back tonight?” he asked, without looking at her.

She turned away, and busied herself with Nyx’s dinner, mashing a carrot and a turnip together with a fork, mixing in a bit of cream, to make her nephew’s favorite dish.

“They are staying at the Grand Velaris Hotel for the night,” she said quietly. “Feyre just notified me. Rhys wanted to make…a night of it.”

Azriel couldn’t stop himself. Didn’t want to stop himself. Elain froze, when she felt him behind her, his enormous looming presence like a coiled string of pure strength and power. His beautiful scarred hand gently wrapped over hers, and they pressed the fork into the vegetables together, neither paying any attention to what they were doing. His breath was warm on the back of her head—actually the top of her head—for he had to crane his neck to lay his cheek against her own, while his other hand wrapped around her hip.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, lips brushing over her ear, just short of kissing.

Absently, she dragged her fingers over the huge scarred hand that rested on her hip, her breath stalling in her chest. She became unbearably hot, heart beating so fast that she was sure that he could hear it.

“Will you stay?”

“Yes.”

His muscle-corded golden-brown arm tugged her closer, and she leaned into him, forgetting everything at once, only aware of this beautiful warrior behind her, as his powerful chest rose and fell against her back.

“Baby, I,” he began, and stopped abruptly, as if fearing that he’d made a mistake.

Baby.

‘Baby’ destroyed her.

She was never ‘baby’ to him before.

She was ‘Elain’ to him, in front of others. Once in a while, usually in Cassian’s presence, it was ‘Ellie’. More of a Cassian thing, but Azriel slipped occasionally and called her that as well. When they were completely alone, however infrequently, he let himself address her as ‘Lainey’. She loved ‘Lainey’. But he never uttered something so endearing as ‘baby’.

She turned around and looked up at him, caged comfortably within those massive arms, his golden-hazel eyes soft and loving. This look Azriel reserved for her alone. In his 539 years, no one, but Elain Archeron was privy to seeing him like this. He was undone. Ruined by this delicate woman who held his heart in her hand, as it burned with ever-present flame for her.

“Lana!” yelled Nyx, reminding them of his presence.

Azriel smirked and shook his head. She grinned and then cupped his face in her palm, as he began kissing her fingers, his hands resting on the counter behind her. For the first time, her plump, delicate breasts pushed into his chest, the material of his shirt providing bare minimum of a barrier, and he loved it, because she loved it. She loved it when he gingerly moved her breasts against his chest, and she pressed them closer into him, a silent invitation for more. More skin, more touch, more breath, more kisses, more of everything. Elain wanted everything. Elain wanted Azriel.

“Baby,” he began again, kissing the inside of her palm, “I like your shirt.”

Her brown eyes sparkled mischievously, and she looked down between their bodies, where they touched and fit together with strange, inexplicable precision, as if carved from the same flesh.

“I like this shirt too,” she assured him.

“I think you should wear it more, my beauty,” he suggested, his soft lips trailing from her wrist, up her forearm. “In fact, I think that you should wear my clothes as frequently as possible.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” she admitted, and lightly kissed his chin. Yes, she had to rise on her toes to reach it, but that stunning jawline of his was too irresistible for her to ignore any longer. She kissed the subtly scratchy chin again, and again, and then moved slowly, dragging her lips towards his ear. He tensed against her, his arms pushing against her shoulders, his wings flaring lightly behind him, cocooning the two of them in the velvety darkness.

“But,” she finally wrapped her arms around his neck, stretching her body against his, feeling every bit of him. “I was thinking maybe no clothes at all would be nice as well.”

“I couldn’t disagree,” he winked at her.

“Ath!” insistent drumming pulled them out of their mutual reverie. “Lana!”

“We have to be responsible adults,” she sighed, while Azriel kissed the tip of her nose. “And feed our child.”

“You feed our wayward child,” he decided, “and I will cook dinner.”

“You might very well be the perfect man!” she laughed.

“I might be,” he shrugged nonchalantly, kissing the top of her head and releasing her from his embrace at once.

Forbidden or not, this was going to be a very nice evening.

A very nice evening indeed.

[chewingaredpen]

Btw... is there a link to the season 5 Arrow bloopers? Because this is what I was looking for in the Arrow tag but didn’t find (Maybe I am blind LOLs) 

[fearsmagazine]

Batwoman: The Complete Second Season - Arrives on Blu-ray & DVD September 21, 2021

Contains All 18 Exhilarating Episodes from the Second Season, Plus All-New Special Features!

Watch as Javicia Leslie takes on the mantle of DC Super Hero Batwoman, when Batwoman: The Complete Second Season arrives on Blu-ray and DVD on September 21, 2021 from Warner Bros. Home Entertainment. Strap yourself in for a thrilling ride with all 18 episodes from the second season, plus never-before-seen bonus content including deleted scenes and a gag reel. Batwoman: The Complete Second Season is priced to own at $39.99 SRP for the DVD ($44.98 in Canada) and $44.98 SRP for the Blu-ray ($49.99 in Canada), which includes a Digital Copy (U.S. only). Batwoman: The Complete Second Season is also available to own on Digital via purchase from digital retailers, and to stream on HBO Max starting July 27, 2021.

At the end of the first season, Crows Commander Kane (Dougray Scott) has declared war on Batwoman, forcing everyone around them to choose sides. Season two kicks off with a major game-changer that alters Gotham City and The Bat Team forever. A new hero emerges from the shadows. Relatable, messy, loyal, and a little goofy, Ryan Wilder (Leslie) couldn’t be more different than the woman who wore the Batsuit before her, billionaire Kate Kane. Living in her van, Ryan has been made to feel trapped and powerless by the system her whole life and believes the Batsuit is the key to breaking out of it. But what she’ll come to discover is that it’s not the suit that makes Ryan Wilder powerful, it’s the woman inside of it who finds her destiny in changing Gotham City for good. 

With Blu-ray’s unsurpassed picture and sound, Batwoman: The Complete Second Season Blu-ray release will include 1080p Full HD Video with DTS-HD Master Audio for English 5.1. Featuring all 18 episodes from the second season in high definition, as well as a digital code of the season (available in the U.S. only).

Batwoman stars Javicia Leslie (God Friended Me), Rachel Skarsten (Birds of Prey, Reign), Meagan Tandy (unREAL, Teen Wolf), Nicole Kang (You), Camrus Johnson (The Sun Is Also a Star) and Dougray Scott (Departure, Snatch). Based on characters created for DC by Bob Kane with Bill Finger, Batwoman is produced by Berlanti Productions in association with Warner Bros. Television with executive producers Greg Berlanti (Arrow, The Flash, Supergirl), Caroline Dries (The Vampire Diaries, Smallville), Geoff Johns (DC’s Stargirl, The Flash, Titans), Sarah Schechter (Arrow, The Flash, Supergirl), James Stoteraux and Chad Fiveash (Gotham, The Vampire Diaries). 

BLU-RAY & DVD FEATURES

• Deleted Scenes (Exclusive to Blu-ray and DVD) • Gag Reel (Exclusive to Blu-ray and DVD) • Villains Analyzed • Never Alone: Heroes and Allies

18 ONE-HOUR EPISODES 1. Whatever Happened to Kate Kane? 2. Prior Criminal History 3. Bat Girl Magic! 4. Fair Skin, Blue Eyes 5. Gore on Canvas 6. Do Not Resuscitate 7. It's Best You Stop Digging 8. Survived Much Worse 9. Rule #1 10. Time Off for Good Behavior 11. Arrive Alive 12. Initiate Self Destruct 13. I’ll Give You a Clue 14. …And Justice For All 15. Armed and Dangerous 16. Rebirth 17. Kane, Kate 18. Power

DIGITAL

Batwoman: The Complete Second Season is available to own on Digital. Digital purchase allows consumers to instantly stream and download all episodes to watch anywhere and anytime on their favorite devices. Digital movies and TV shows are available from various digital retailers including Amazon Video, iTunes, Google Play, Vudu and others.

BASICS

Street Date: September 21, 2021 Order Due Date: August 17, 2020 BD and DVD Presented in 16x9 widescreen format Running Time: Feature: Approx 793 min Enhanced Content: Approx 55 min

DVD

Price: $39.99 SRP ($44.98 in Canada) 4-Discs (4 DVD-9s) Audio – English (5.1) Subtitles – English SDH

BLU-RAY

Price: $44.98 SRP ($49.99 in Canada)3-Discs (3 BD-50s)Audio – DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 – EnglishBD Subtitles – English SDH

[maandags]

can i have something with draco malfoy and plants

the Forbidden Forest is quiet this time of night.

granted, the Forbidden Forest is quiet pretty much always, which is mainly due to the fact that it’s — surprisingly — forbidden for students to roam and wander. for good reason, too; the man-eating spiders and the morally questionable centaurs that, among others, make up its population aren’t known to be particularly friendly towards Hogwart’s students.

this, like all the warnings your friends have bombarded you with to try and keep you from entering the Forest, did not deter you in the slightest. in fact, it just made you want to explore its woods more. and so that’s why, at twelve whole years of age, you first set foot in the Forbidden Forest. now, you only went maybe 50 feet into the Forest that first time, giggling to yourself, adrenaline coursing through your veins, hand gripping your wand — looking over your shoulder every couple of minutes to make sure the school grounds weren’t out of sight — but it was enough to give you a taste, show you the smallest of flickers of the life brewing deep inside the forest, and it left you addicted straight away.

now, four years later, your little excursions to the Forest are never more than a few days apart. you know its paths, know its flora and fauna, know every square inch of it like the back of your hand. you’re not scared anymore of going.

nevertheless, the first few steps are always a thrill. it’s the tangible change in atmosphere, the soft bed of grass beneath your feet making way for a layer of dead leaves and branches and rocks where the tiniest of creatures wriggle about. it’s not fully dark yet, so you walk slower than you usually would, allowing yourself to look around and try and recognise as many plants and beasts as possible. (another reason why you didn’t really want to stop your visits to the forest: your Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures marks have never been higher.)

after an hour or so, as you trudge deeper into the forest, the surroundings start to grow more visibly magical in nature. trees look blurred when you try to look at them directly. big leaves shift unnaturally in completely still air. sparkly birds let out trills that sound a little too human. a swarm of small, yellow-and-blue songbirds fly over. one of them swoops down and lands briefly on your outstretched arm, and you pet it, resisting the urge to bury your fingers in the fluffy plumage, knowing full well that instead of flesh and bones these birds are made of some sort of bluish-black goop that a) smells absolutely rank, b) along with sticky and very quick-hardening seems to be vaguely acidic in nature and c) is a major bitch to wash out of clothing.

the bird flies at your side for a while, trilling in response to your soft whistles, the tip of its wing tickling your cheek every other minute. you spot a few pixies, who respond to your cheery wave with a string of hoots and screeches, a cluster of three-feet-tall mushrooms pulsing with a harsh pink light, and a slow-moving cloud of gold mist, which you give a wide berth, holding your breath for good measure.

then an arrow whizzes past your ear, and your hand flies up with a gasp. your fingers come away red with blood.

you spin on your heel, hand pressed up to the side of your head, and narrow your eyes at the centaur standing ten feet away from you. ”haha, Brin. very funny.”

he levels an unimpressed stare at you. ”you know you’re not supposed to be here, Y/N.”

”you’ve been telling me that for four years now.”

”and you’ve been ignoring it for four years.”

”indeed I have.” you spin around, yanking the arrow from the tree it landed in. ”can I keep this?”

Brin glares at you. you roll your eyes but hand the arrow back to him. ”you’re no fun. that arrow has my blood on it, I should be legally allowed to keep it.”

Brin shakes his head, turning around and starting to walk back the way he’d (supposedly) come. ”I can’t even begin to explain how flawed that logic is.”

you snicker, hurrying after him. Brin might be a little stuck up, but he’s also one of the few friends you have in the Forest, and even then you don’t see him that much. ”so. how’ve things been here?”

Brin briefly glances up at the sky, and you immediately regret asking, already steeling yourself for an incomprehensible monologue about stars and the positions of planets and whatnot. if you were better in at astronomy, you probably would have been able to understand some of it, but you’re shit at astronomy, so it’s mostly gibberish to you.

but all Brin says is, ”things are stirring.”

you raise a brow. ”things?”

”are stirring, yes.”

”stirring.”

”yes.”

”the things.”

he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. ”I really don’t know what more you want from me, Y/N.”

you look back up at him, unflinching. ”literally anything else. ‘things are stirring’ is all I got out of you, and that’s not much to go on.”

Brin sighs, short and sharp. ”I shouldn’t have mentioned anything. forget about it. it’s not something you should concern yourself with.”

you pretend to gag. ”you sound like Bane.”

Brin opens his mouth, about to object, but stops dead, narrowing his eyes and throwing out an arm to stop you. his tail swishes from side to side and he stands still, head cocked, listening intently.

for all your joking around, you immediately shut your mouth, the tension gripping Brin all of a sudden leaking into your body as well. it’s all fun and games until a centaur gets genuinely nervous, and in those situations it’s best to watch the aforementioned centaur and do what they do. your hand slowly creeps towards your robe’s breast pocket, where your wand is stored, but you don’t pull it out yet.

Brin’s eyes flick to you, irritation flashing in them. ”someone’s here.”

you pause, not sure if this is an inconvenience or a Bad Thing. ”um. elaborate, please?”

Brin takes a deep breath. ”one of yours.”

as if on cue, the silence is split by a blood-curdling scream.

your head snaps towards where the sound came from, but it’s too dark and too far away to see. ”shit,” you mutter under your breath, before summoning a globule of light to hover in front of you and taking off in the direction of the scream.

one of you. did that mean another human? a wizard? a Hogwarts student? but no, it couldn’t be — no Hogwarts student would be insane enough to venture this far into the Forbidden Forest this late into the night.

as you follow the strangled cries of panic and yelps of pain, you start to get a dim visual of what happened, and you curse again.

Devil’s Snare. the little shits are everywhere, their roots creeping along the forest floor and waiting for any living thing to stumble across them. you’ve since learned to look out for them, jump over them and walk just fast enough to avoid getting entangled, having had a few close calls yourself.

this Snare is a particularly nasty one. old, gauging by its height and the thickness of the vines sprouting from its core. strong. fucking hell. you stop just out of reach, sending a few more globules of light to surround it as to get a better view of what the exact fuck is going on.

the person is almost completely covered in vines at this point. struggling, crying out in fear and pain, gasping for breath. the vines, of course, only tangle further around his body. after a bit of heated internal debate, you begrudgingly admit that if you’re going to help this guy, you’ll need to get closer. so you do, careful not to get too close just yet. the light you’d sent up is not enough to make the Snare let go of its prey, but it is enough to (mostly) prevent any stray vines from grabbing hold of your ankles.

”stay still!” you shout, kicking a vine away and shooting three more lights to hover around the trapped guy.

he does not stay still. in fact, he doesn’t look like he heard you at all.

in the meantime, the smaller vines have taken more of an interest in you as you approach, and you growl, muttering a spell under your breath. a straight blade of white-hot flame sprouts from your wand, and as you calmly swing it in a wide arc, the light and the heat makes the plant recoil. as you pick your way through the branches and vines, getting ever closer to the guy, whose struggling is starting to get weaker, you cup your hands around your mouth, almost singing your eyebrows with your sword of fire in the process, and repeat, ”STAY FUCKING STILL!”

”what?”

”STAY STILL. I can’t help you unless you stay still!”

a faint groan sounds, and the figure stops struggling for a split second, but the vines tighten around him and out of reflex his arms shoot out, trying to fight the pressure off his chest.

”oh my god, I cannot believe I’m doing this,” you pant, closing the rest of the distance between you with a couple big leaps, landing smack in the middle of the biggest and nastiest vines, and that’s when you discover that the biggest and nastiest vines also have spikes, because the vine that immediately wraps around your calf digs its spikes into your flesh and you cry out.

a hand flails in front of your face. you grab the wrist to which it is attached. a plan forms in your mind — a crazy plan, an insane plan that just might be the death of both you and the unknown guy. but it’s the plan you have, and thus the plan you’re going with.

with your fiery blade you cut through a few of the vines that cross the guy’s chest — and then you put your wand away, extinguishing the fire and quickly stuffing your wand in your breast pocket.

”what are you doing?” he asks, and that’s when it clicks. the indignant tone he still manages to have even though he’s being crushed to death; the curl of his lip you can’t make out in the fray but can picture perfectly in your head.

you reel back, though it’s not as dramatic as you’d have liked it to be, because a thick vine has already snaked across your back (but that’s okay, that’s part of the plan, it’s okay, it’s fine) and you only manage to be pushed back into his chest with an oof.

you wrangle free, pulling back just enough to be able to make out his face. ”Malfoy?”

recognition flashes in his eyes — nothing more than two specks in the darkness — and he says quietly, ”Y/N.”

”fucking — ow —” spikes dig into the back of your thigh — ”the fuck are you doing here?”

”I think we have other things to worry about right now,” he says faintly, grunting as he’s pushed closer to you.

you scrunch up your nose but concede, promising yourself that you’ll question him later — if you even get out of this alive. ”if I die right now, Malfoy — for you — I will come back to life so I can murder you myself.”

he purses his lips, but nods, as if to say, ”that’s fair.” it is. it is fair. little shit.

you take a breath, steeling yourself, then dive down into the tangle of writhing vines at your feet, ignoring Malfoy’s shout of your name above you.

this is where it gets gross, and where you might lose a hand. one hand comes up to your chest and yanks out your wand, and the other searches beneath you — vines, vines, spikes (ow), more vines, a single leaf, and then, finally, the disgustingly soggy pulsing heart of the plant. you give a triumphant ”AHA!” then stick your wand into the core with a squelch that makes you gag, pull out your hand and shout the sword of fire spell. the flaming blade cuts through the heart. the vines shudder — convulse — and then go limp, and you shrug them off, staggering away, gagging, tripping twice before falling against a tree and retching, a hand pressed against your stomach, taking deep breaths, trying to blink the black spots away.

as soon as you feel like you can shout without throwing up, you march up to Malfoy, who looks about as good as you feel, tear out your wand and stick it under his chin and yell, ”WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

you expect him to yell back. that’s how the two of you have always functioned: you shout something, he yells something back. he yells something, you shout back.

but he doesn’t. he just stands there, looking deflated and shaky and frankly on the verge of tears. ”thank you, Y/N.”

it catches you off-guard. you pretend it doesn’t. Malfoy never thanks anyone. ”no, fuck you. answer my goddamn question. what are you doing here?”

”I was following you, all right? I know you’ve been going into the Forest for ages, and I wanted to know what you got up to. that’s it.”

you scoff. ”right. you were just following me. that’s not creepy at all.”

”listen, Y/N. I don’t know what else you want from me.” he sounds tired and defeated and it makes you angry, because it’s so Not Malfoy that it’s unsettling, and the last thing you need right now is ‘unsettling’.

you throw your hands up into the air and start stomping away. ”I don’t know! I don’t fucking know. just — ugh!” you kick a dead tree stump, out of which comes charging a single fat gnome, waving a small stick and shouting an incomprehensible string of what are without a doubt profanities you’ve never even heard of.

”Y/N.”

”what?!”

”you’re bleeding.”

you stop walking, dropping your face in your hands and bursting into tears.

ten seconds. that’s all you allow yourself. ten seconds until you’ve got to get yourself together; ten seconds to scream and cry and sob your heart out. ten seconds, and then you take a deep, deep breath, wipe your cheeks and say, ”right,” and start walking again.

for a moment you don’t hear anything, and you think Malfoy is going to stay behind — but then he sighs and jogs a few steps to catch up to you. you walk in silence for a long time. the only words you say is when you quietly warn him not to step too close to a certain rock, or not to touch a certain flower.

when you absent-mindedly pull a leaf off a green plant and press it to your nose, inhaling deeply, he looks to you in alarm. you roll your eyes. ”it’s mint.” you inhale again, letting your eyes flit closed. ”it’s comforting.”

a little bit later, and there’s a faint rustling to your right. Malfoy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth; you rub a tired hand to your eyes. ”I was almost thinking you’d just left.”

Brin purses his lips, picking you up and wordlessly depositing you onto his back. you let your head drop against his back. ”thank you, Brin.”

”I would have helped you.”

”I had it under control.”

”I know.” he extends a hand towards Malfoy, who looks at it for a split second, then his gaze flits to you; you give a small nod, and a half second later he’s sat behind you, hands carefully resting on your hips.

”you…” your voice falters. ”you don’t have to do this, you know. Bane… and Magorian… surely they don’t approve of this.”

”they won’t know,” Brin says quietly. the forest around you slowly shifts back into a more peaceful atmosphere. the songbirds return. moonlight starts to filter through the foliage, and you take a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been needing.

a few hundred feet before the edge of the Forest, Brin stops. ”this is as far as I go.”

Malfoy slides off his back, then holds a hand for you to take, and you do, because you’re tired and wobbly and unsure whether your legs will hold your weight.

”thank you,” Malfoy says. you cast him a sideways glance. that’s the second time he’s thanked someone tonight, which is two times more than you thought he was capable of.

you nod curtly. Brin bows his head, then levels his gaze at you. ”I hope I don’t see you again, Y/N.”

you give him a lopsided grin. ”no promises.” and for the first time, something like a smile peeks through the centaur’s serious facade.

the last trek back onto school grounds is uneventful, bar the fact that the adrenaline has now completely worn off, and you start to feel sore all over, and you realise that your left leg — calf and thigh — is indeed bleeding. a lot. you have scratches on your arms and a nasty one on your cheek as well, and you’re covered in muck and grey slime. you probably look like something straight out of a Muggle zombie apocalypse film.

”you know the forest well,” Malfoy says as you step out of it.

you’re too tired to argue. ”yeah,” you reply simply. ”I love it.”

”you’ll be going back?” there’s a slightly incredulous hint to his voice, like he doesn’t quite believe it himself — you almost died. how could you possibly want to go back to such a place?

but the truth is that you do. you do want to go back. because the forest has been more of a home to you than Hogwarts has ever been. because you love its trees and its bushes and its weird magic plants and its pixies and centaurs and birds of enchantment. you love everything about it. even the near-death experiences. that’s what makes it fun.

”I will,” you say. ”I will be going back, Malfoy.” it sounds a little too much like a challenge. it sounds like you’re saying; try and stop me. I dare you.

he merely nods. he’s taken out his wand and cast a simple light spell, and the glowing tip of the wand sways as he walks. in the light, his eyes reflect gold. ”good.”

your eyebrows shoot up with the speed of a thousand Firebolts. ”excuse me?”

he grins; a boyish, sharp grin, that makes your stomach do a very irrelevant flip. ”I would have been disappointed if you didn’t.”

[bluezey]

Inside Onward - The Gauntlet

We’re getting into the part of the story I couldn’t wait to write.  Just like you all (I hope) I was excited to get to this part.  So, of course it took me forever to get to it.  But, here we are!  And, if I did this right, buckle up.

Ian took up his staff, Barley took the leash, and both cautiously stepped into the grand doorway into the dungeon.  Dad blindly followed along, being led by the leash.

Things were quiet. Too quiet.  So quiet you can almost hear the particles shifting within the emotions’ bodies.  Fear watched as the walls around Ian and Barley seem to grow closer and closer. The grand archway they walked under led into a tightly cramped, dark corridor.  The only thing lighting the way is the torch Barley was holding, and the faint, ominous glow coming from the barred holes lining the base of the walls. The arched gaps seemed to be the only generous thing in the threatening hall made of stone, releasing into the darkness a faint blue aura, as well as the faint sound of stilled water.  The emotions glanced around cautiously as the age, decay and debris of the dungeon, Disgust giving a cringe when he spotted a beetle crawling over a skeleton and into the skull’s eye socket.

Distracting his anxieties with something, Fear looked down at his watch, just as Ian looked down at his watch.  Less than two hours left.

“The Phoenix Gem is just on the other side,” Barley whispered.  “Careful, there could be booby traps.”

Fear shivered. “Booby… traps?”

“This place is over a thousand years old,” Ian whispered back, glancing around the dark, confined corridor.  “There’s no way there could be-“

SLAM!!

A loud noise shuttered through the hall as a large blade shot horizontally through the dungeon. It thankfully avoided the brothers, who were on opposite sides following the stone walls, but it knocked the top half of Dad’s disguise clean off, leaving him a pair of legs standing on an activated cobblestone on the floor.  The brothers gasped, followed by the emotions.

And with a small puff of air, the torch was snuffed out.

Fear panicked.  “What do we do?  What do we do?  We can’t see!”

“We see that, Fear,” Anger snapped.  “The lights are still on in Headquarters.”

“But there’s no light in the catacomb,” Sadness sighed.  “How are we gonna get Ian and Barley through?”

Joy’s face lit up as something in the ceiling caught her attention.  “Oh look, there’s some light,” she said as she pointed to the green light ominously filtering into the dungeon.

The brothers looked up as the trap door in the ceiling gradually opened, slowly revealing the glowing green being.  Ian was unsure of what it was, but his face and the emotions face slowly fell as they caught sight of the fear taking over Barley.

“Oh no,” Barley gasped. “It can’t be…”

The trap door fully opened, releasing the giant green cube.  The cube plopped down onto the stone floor, with a gushy thump that caused Disgust to reel back and gag.

“A gelatinous cube!!” Barley shrieked with fright.

“They’re real??” the emotions yelped in unison.

Still frozen in place in both shock and confusion, Ian caught the cube slowly shift towards them. The top half of Dad’s disguise was sucked into the gelatinous square blob, and immediately dissolved into nothingness, with a fierce, hungered fizzle.  The emotions stepped back in horror.  “It ate Dad!!” four of them exclaimed as Disgust ran off to wretch.

Barley looked up as he heard a groan of stone scraping against stone.  Far ahead at the end of the corridor, a stone slab began to slowly close from the ceiling downward.  “Run!!” Barley shouted.

“No crap!” Anger shouted.

“Wait!” Fear said, stopping Disgust as he raced back to grab the controls.

“Wait!” Ian stopped Barley by blocking him with his staff.  “It’s a puzzle!” Ian explained, looking down at the cobblestone floor, each one with a different, mysterious symbol.  “We have to figure it out or-“

Barley interrupted. “No time!  Grab a shield!”

“What shield?” Disgust saw Barley pick up an old shield off the floor, plucked from an old skeleton. “Nuh uh, no way!” Disgust protested, about to throw up again.

“We have no choice!” Fear grabbed the controls.

Ian grabbed a shield off the ground, an arm of a skeleton coming along with it.  “Ew ew ew ew,” Disgust gagged, pressing some buttons, causing Ian to close his eyes and clench in disgust as he brushed the arm off the handle of the shield.

The brothers held the shields at their sides towards the walls, with their Dad huddled between them. They picked up their dad by the belt and, with one adrenaline filled scream, raced down the corridor.  With every step, traps were sprung.  Arrows and spears were flying from left to right, right to left, blades came falling from the ceiling, missing the three of them by mere inches.  It was pure utter chaos!

“I got ya!  I got ya!” Joy exclaimed, helping at the controls as he saw Fear falling apart at the seams.  Losing control, Fear stepped back, being replaced by Anger as Fear placed his hands under his arms and gasped for breath.

“That’s the most frightening thing Ian’s ever done,” Fear gasped.

And it wasn’t over yet.

The brothers stopped sharply at a pit, causing Barley to drop his shield and watch it skewer onto the spikes below.  Fear watched as Ian looked up, the stone door ahead halfway closed, and closing teasingly slower.  The pit between them and the door was too far to jump, but maybe…

Fear ran to the shelves, grabbed an idea bulb, ran back and shoved it into the idea bulb holder on the console.

Ian grabbed his staff and looked towards his brother.  “Jump!”

Barley was shocked at such an order.  “What?”

“What?” the emotions asked, staring wide eyed at Fear, taking his place at the console.

“Trust me!” Ian told Barley.

With a second guessing glance, Barley took a few steps back, then gave a running jump into the air.  He gave a loud shout as he started to fall into the pit.  

Acting fast, Ian aimed his staff downward towards Barley.  “Aloft elevar!”

Barley felt himself halt in midair, causing him to peek from under his forearms, and see himself floating in midair, enveloped in a magical aura.  Barley gave a laugh, realizing Ian just saved his life, and got them a way across the pit!

“Wow,” Disgust gasped.

“Way to go Fear!” Joy cheered.

Anger chuckled as he watched Ian lead his Dad over the pit, using Barley like a bridge.  “Heh, nice,” he commented, watching Ian unknowingly place his foot against Barley’s cheek for a second.

Just as he made it over the pit, Ian tripped and fell.  Dad flopped onto the floor and, more importantly, Ian lost grip of his staff. Fear shrieked.  “We need that!” he exclaimed, as Ian reached for the staff just inches in front of him.

“Ian?” Barley called out, watching as the gelatinous cube was looming over him as it crept inches closer towards the pit.

Ian climbed to his feet as fast as he could, then turned and held the staff upward, pulling Barley out of the pit and out of the impending doom of the gelatinous cube.

The emotions cheered for a brief second, followed by surprised screams as Barley was literally thrown onto Ian, causing the two to be thrown through the doorway.  Just as Ian and Barley sat up, they caught sight of the door just less than a foot from the floor.  It was too close for the brothers to make it through, but just enough to reach through and grab the leash on the other side.

“No!!” Fear shouted as all the emotions scrambled for one of the levers on the console and pulled back. Ian reached through the gradually closing opening, grabbed the leash and pulled back with all his might, with Barley grabbing the rope of the leash and pulling as well.  With their combined efforts, the brothers dragged their Dad through the doorway, mere seconds before it closed with an echoing thud.

The emotions sighed in relief and gradually peeled themselves off the console.  Ian and Barley eventually stood and looked around, finding themselves in a small circular room with a tall ceiling.  The emotions watched the screen as Ian looked up. “Wow, that’s really tall,” Joy commented aloud.

Fear gave a shriek as he caught sight of Barley gripping Ian by the shoulders before he could step forward. “Woah woah woah, don’t step on that,” Barley warned, motioning towards the cobblestone plate planted in the ground.

“We gotta be more careful,” Fear sighed, reeling back Ian’s leg.

“Hey, you weren’t looking down either,” Anger argued.

Before the emotions could continue, the room echoed with a loud thud, followed by an ominous sound of rushing water.  Seconds later, water began to pour in through the thin cracks between the stone floor sand the rocky walls.  Just as the waters reached their feet, Ian and Barley knew the waters were beginning to rise, and fast.

“I didn’t touch it!” Ian exclaimed, grasping his staff as Barley grabbed Dad and hoisted the sentient legs onto his shoulders.

“I didn’t touch it!” Fear exclaimed to the others, lost in his panic.  “You all saw me not touch it!  Did any of you guys touch it?”

“No one touched it, Fear!” Disgust snapped, shutting Fear up.

“Oh no,” Sadness gasped. “The water’s so cold.”

“It’s gonna ruin our hair!” Disgust gasped dramatically.

“That’s your concern?” Anger snapped at the others.  “We’re all gonna drown!”

Joy was still distracted by the tall ceiling, finally making out the etching above them.  “Oh!  I got it! It’s a sun!”

“Huh?” Fear and the other emotions looked at the screen, noticing the engraving.  Realizing that the water is taking them upwards, Fear thought aloud.  “Maybe that’s the exit!”

“Let me try something!” Joy pressed a few buttons.

Ian tried to focus through the rising cold water as he aimed his staff upwards.  “Voltar thundasir.”  The staff released a small bolt that just flickered and fizzled mere feet above them.

“Of course that didn’t work,” Anger grumbled.

“I don’t see you coming up with bright ideas,” Disgust argued back.

“Like what?” Anger snapped. “Like that ceiling will open up if we DID step on the booby trap?”

Fear paused and thought a moment, eyeing the engraved sun in the ceiling.  Quickly, he pressed a few buttons, and Ian held his breath and ducked his head underwater.  The emotions quickly caught a glance of the cobblestone below them, noticing the exact same engraving.  “That’s it,” Fear thought aloud.

Anger crossed his arms and said, “Told ya.”

Disgust pouted defensively. “Lucky guess.”

Ian took a deep breath as he returned his head above water.  “That tile down there, it has the same shape as the opening!” Ian shouted above the rushing water.

“Maybe we were supposed to step on it.”  Barley placed Dad onto Ian’s shoulders.  “I got this,” Barley said before taking a deep breath and diving into the water.

The emotions crowded around the console and watched.  The chamber was half full, so they knew it was quite a swim to the bottom.  “Did he make it?  Is it working?  Is he okay?” Fear kept asking, begging for an answer.

A loud groan echoed above Ian.  He looked up to see the ceiling begin to slowly open, revealing sunlight that poured into the room.  “It’s working!” he cheered.

“Phew! Fear sighed.

“Yay!” Joy exclaimed, hugging Sadness.  “We’re gonna make it!”

The ceiling immediately slammed shut.  The room immediately became dark.

The emotions faces fell. “Wait, what?” Joy asked.

Barely popped his head back out of the water.  “It’s impossible!” he gasped.  “No one can hold their breath that long.”

Fear and Joy unanimously exchanged glances.  “Hold their breath!”  Together, they grabbed an idea bulb and placed it in the console.

Ian glanced at Barley, Barley glanced back with the same wild idea.  Together, they grabbed their Dad and shoved him down deep into the water.

Fear was already looking through the water like crazy.  “Did he make it?  Did he make it?  Did he make it?”

“He made it!” Joy told Fear, hugging the purple emotion tight while pointing at the screen.

“But he’s not on the tile!” Disgust pointed out before grabbing for the controls.

“Ahh!!” Fear leaped over Sadness and Anger as he grabbed the controls as well.

Ian took the leash and pulled left, trying to lead Dad towards the plate.  Moving blindly, the legs overstepped and nearly hit the wall.

“Too far!  Right!” Anger snapped, grabbing a dial on the console.

Ian pulled right, making Dad overstep the tile again.

“Good effort,” Joy encouraged, seeing the frustration in the room.  “We can do this.”

“Guys, the ceiling!” Sadness called out, pointing to the screen just as Ian’s head bumped against the stone ceiling.

“No no no no no!” Fear slammed his hand on a button.

Ian and Barley both took a deep breath and dove underwater just as the last remaining space of air was filled with water.

“Ian can’t hold his breath for long!” Fear said as he took the controls, making Ian pull the leash another direction.  “Someone watch his vitals!”

Sadness looked down at the vitals on the console.  “He’s losing oxygen fast,” Sadness cried.  “He’s not gonna make it!”

“Wait!” Joy watched with baited breath as it looked like Dad was stumbling close enough to the stone plate, but missed by a mere inch.  As the emotions sighed in frustration, Joy’s face lit up with hope.  “He’s standing right over it!  Pull up!  Pull up!”

Ian and Barley both pulled the leash upward with all their might.  Dad was pulled straight upward before floating straight down in a standing position right on the stone tile.

“We did it!” Joy cheered.

Sadness gasped.  “Oh no!  Ian’s lost his breath!”

“We’re gonna drown!” Fear shrieked.

Before panic could break out, the emotions saw onscreen as Ian was suddenly above water, gasping for breath as one hand clung to the edge on the basin on the other side of the open door.

While relieved, Fear was still dumbfounded.  “Wha- what happened?”

Sadness looked down at the vitals stabilizing as he was putting the pieces together.  “I think Barley pulled us out of the water.”

Joy grinned at Barley onscreen before grinning at Fear.  “He’s such a nice guy.”

Ian and Barley climbed out of the water and sat on the edge of the basin.  As Barley fished Dad out by the leash, the brothers could do nothing else but look at each other, their gasping breaths turning into laughs of relief, realizing that their trial is over.  The emotions each shared a laugh, realizing that they survived, and they got Ian through all of that trouble.  The Manticore, the pixies, the bridge, the dungeon.  And they made it.  With little time to spare, but they made it.

Barley picked Dad out of the water and hoisted him onto his shoulders. “The Phoenix Gem is just beyond this door,” Barley said triumphantly, motioning his hand proudly towards a ladder in the wall.  The ladder led upwards towards the exit above, blocked by a metal plate with holes filtering sunlight through.  “Shall we?”

Joy stepped in at the console.  “I got this!” she said playfully.

Ian led the way, climbing up the ladder.  “We certainly shall!” Ian exclaimed, his boasting voice echoing through the small space. “Dad, we have followed the quest, and it has led us to our victory!”

The emotions shared a laugh, with Fear patting Joy’s shoulder.  “Nice one, Joy,” he smiled, with Joy smiling back.”

Ian reached up, moved the metal plate aside, and felt the warm sunlight pour onto his cold, wet face. He proudly climbed up through the hole to find himself facing…

… New Mushroomton High School.

Ian’s face fell.

The emotions paused and stared blankly at the screen.  They had no clue what was going on.  Looking for answers, Fear took control, allowing Ian climb out of the hole to look around at his surroundings.  The more Ian looked, the more it began to sink in.  The school.  The BMV. The construction site surrounding the old weathered fountain.  The water tower.  The apparent sewer the two just climbed out of.  This isn’t some shrine or trove containing the Phoenix Gem.  This is right back where they started.

Barley finally pulled Ian away from an oncoming bus and onto the sidewalk.  The jostle was enough to break Ian out of his confused trance. “We’re back… home,” he said in disbelief.

“No… no no no no, this isn’t right, this isn’t right,” Fear whimpered, stepping back and placing his hands under his arms.

“This can’t be right,” Barley thought aloud.  “We took the path of peril.  We followed the ravens, we followed the water… unless we were meant to stay away from the water.”  Barley pulled the clover shaped stone from the raven statue out of his back pocket and observed the markings.

Anger grumbled as he threw his hands up in the air.  “I knew it. I knew this was pointless.”

Disgust rolled his eyes. “Complete waste of time.”

Joy was still in a confused daze.  “No… no, it couldn’t be.”

“Don’t worry,” Barley said, “we can figure this out.”

“Figure out what?” Ian asked.  “We’re back where we started.”

“No, there was a gauntlet,” Barley began to argue.  “Unless that gauntlet was for, coincidentally, some different quest.” Barley paused.  “Actually that’s a possibility.”

“What?” Fear exclaimed as Sadness began to tear up and cry.

“No no, this has to be where the Phoenix Gem is,” Barley continued, his voice growing ever quieter as he thought to himself, “I followed my gut.”

Anger slowly turned at the screen.  “What did he say?” he snarled.

Fear heard that growl. “Oh no… no, I-I got this.”  Fear began to press buttons on the console.

“Oh no,” Ian said, reality hitting him like a ton of bricks.  “The gem is in the mountain, which we could have been at hours ago, if we stayed on the expressway.”

“No, the expressway is too obvious,” Barley argued.  “You can’t take the easiest path.”

“That’s it!” Anger shouted, storming up to the console.  “Let me at him!”

Fear immediately grabbed Anger and pulled him away.  “No! No no no!”

Joy intervened, helping Fear keep Anger away from the console.  “Fear’s right!  Let’s not have Ian say something he’ll regret.”

“I hate to admit it,” Disgust commented, Sadness right beside him, “but Joy’s right.  It’s not Barley’s fault.”

“Then who’s is it?” Anger snapped, still in Fear’s arms.

“I don’t know!” Disgust snapped back.

“Who cares who’s fault it is?” Fear shrieked.  “We have half a dad to-!”

“If I didn’t listen to you! Okay?!” Ian shouted.

The emotions froze. Fear looked at the console… the unmanned console.  Confused and shocked, he silently looked at Disgust, Sadness, Joy, even Anger, still in his arms.  Fear let go, Anger looked back and held up his arms, showing he didn’t do anything.

A glint of light finally caught Fear’s attention.  He turned a complete one eighty and faced the Islands of Personality.

Family Island was alive and active.

Fear raced towards the window, the emotions following.  They all looked at each other in shock, not understanding at all why Family Island would be active at a time like this.

“I can’t believe this,” Ian continued, stepping closer towards the shocked Barley, the emotions watching in stunned silence.  “You act like you know what you’re doing, but you don’t have a clue, and… and that’s because you ARE a screw up!  And you just screwed up my chance to have the ONE thing I never had!”

Barley winced, clearly hit hard by those words.  But Ian, Ian didn’t care.  He just grabbed Dad by the leash and began to storm off.

“Hey, where are you going?” Barley asked.

Ian stopped, turned, and shoved the wizard staff into Barley’s chest.  “To spend what little time we have left with Dad,” he said firmly before turning his back to Barley and continuing to storm off.  Barley called out to Ian, but his words were ignored by Ian’s elf ears.  Ian continued to storm off, clearly furious, clearly heartbroken.

Barley’s inaudible words finally snapped Fear out of it.  He shook his head, realizing that Ian was walking away.  “Wait, where are you going?  Turn back!” he shouted.  He began to race to the console, when a loud sound behind Fear made him freeze in his tracks.

Fear turned, and watched with the other emotions as Family Island shuttered… and the Barley part of the statue on Family Island crumbled away, the pieces falling into the Memory Dump beneath it.

“… no…. no, no no no no no…” Fear finally spoke in disbelief, his hands on the window glass. “This can’t be happening!  What’s happening?”  He turned to the other emotions, just as lost as he is.  “What’s happening??”

The emotions were lost for the moment, before Joy finally spoke up.  “The core memory… maybe it’s the core memory.”  Joy immediately turned and ran for the core memory holder, the others following.

Fear chased after them. “No!  The core memories are to remain in the core memory holder where they’re safe-!”

Anger turned and punched Fear in the gut, causing him to flop onto his back and grab his sides with a pained gasp.  He then turned and met up with the others at the core memories.

Joy pressed the button to make the core memory holder to rise up out of the floor.  After a quick search, she plucked out the core memory powering Family Island with a, “There!”

Disgust looked at the core memory as Joy examined it in his hands.  The orb was bright and shining yellow, with a memory of Laurel at the dinner table with young Ian and young Barley, both laughing as they were baking cookies.“It’s still yellow,” he thought aloud.  “That means Ian should be happy about his family.”

“But then why wasn’t he happy?” Joy brushed his hand over the bright yellow orb, and the orb dimmed.

The emotions were quiet. They watched as Joy tried it again. He brushed his hand one way, and the memory dimmed further.  He brushed it another way, and the memory grew brighter than ever.  Joy moved his hand on the orb further until the memory changed, to a memory of Laurel helping young Ian with his homework.  Then, Joy changed the memory again, to a memory of young Barley helping young Ian learn to walk.

And the light dimmed so lowly that the orb was faded.

The core memory was faded.

Ian’s core memory of Barley was faded.

Joy was in disbelief. “This… this can’t be right.”

“Can you fix it, Joy?” Sadness asked.

Joy replied, “I dunno…”

Fear finally climbed up to his feet, one hand still clinging to the side of his sore torso.  He looked through his narrow eyes to see Joy kneeled in front of an open memory holder, holding a core memory.  “No!!”  Fear ran to the group, but he couldn’t get passed the other emotions crowding Joy, wondering what’s wrong.

“Why is it faded?” Disgust asked.  “Core memories can’t fade, can they?”

“This is so sad,” Sadness sobbed. “Ian’s forgetting Barley.”

“I knew it!  I knew this would happen!” Anger shouted.  “I knew we should check on the core memories!”

Fear couldn’t hear the emotions, he couldn’t even see that the core memory was faded.  All he could see was Joy holding a core memory.  Even playing with it!  “Joy, put it back!”

Joy was still busy trying to fix the core memory.  “Maybe if I… no…”

Fear kept trying to push through, calling out to Joy, but to no avail.  “Joy, please!”

Finding a gap, Fear finally squeezed in and reached for Joy’s arm, only for Joy to pull away as he tried rubbing his forearm against it.  What is he doing?  “Joy, you’re…!”

“There’s gotta be some way to fix this,” Joy thought to himself, gently shaking the core memory.

In complete shock, Fear exclaimed, “You’re hurting my Ian!!”

Joy froze.  Then turned to Fear.  “YOUR Ian?”

Fear was wide eyed, frozen solid.  What did he just say?  Did he just say that?  Out loud?

Joy’s confused face fell into a disappointing frown.  He turned away from Fear, shoved the core memory back into the holder and walked away. “We’ll deal with it later, guys. Let’s go help Ian.”  The other emotions followed, Anger leaving Fear with a judgmental glare before storming off.

Fear was left alone. No one to help him.  No one to comfort him.  All he could feel was the realization that everything was falling apart. And once everything was stripped away, he realized the damage he had done.

Ian lost the chance to see his Dad.  Ian had left Barley behind.  Ian’s Family Island was broken.  Ian’s core memory of Barley was faded.

And now, Fear has lost the respect of his emotions.  Even Joy.

Feeling helpless, hopeless, Fear just let his body collapse and fell onto his knees.

[supergirlfansworld]

Adventure awaits as one of TV’s favorite DC Super Heroes flies into homes with the release of Supergirl: The Complete Fifth Season on Blu-ray and DVD on September 8, 2020 from Warner Bros. Home Entertainment.

“After five strong seasons, Supergirl remains one of the most talked-about shows on the air,” said Rosemary Markson, WBHE Senior Vice President, Television Marketing. “The loyal fan base will enjoy the special features, in addition to the 19 gripping episodes from the fifth season following new challenges and new characters.”

SPECIAL FEATURES • The Best of DC TV’s Comic-Con Panels San Diego 2019 • Deleted Scenes • Gag Reel

BLU-RAY BONUS DISC All Five Epic Episodes of the DC Crossover Event Crisis on Infinite Earths from Supergirl, Batwoman, The Flash, Arrow and DC’s Legends of Tomorrow

Special Features: • Crisis Past and Present: Kevin Conroy Bat Legend • Crisis on Infinite Earths: The Architects Return • Crisis Past and Present – Superman vs. Superman • Characters in Crisis: Pariah • Crisis Management • Character in Crisis: The Anti-Monitor

19 ONE-HOUR EPISODES 01. Event Horizon 02. Stranger Beside Me 03. Blurred Lines 04. In Plain Sight 05. Dangerous Liaisons 06. Confidence Women 07. Tremors 08. The Wrath of Rama Khan 09. Crisis on Infinite Earths: Hour One 10. The Bottle Episode 11. Back from the Future – Part One 12. Back from the Future – Part Two 13. It’s a Super Life 14. The Bodyguard 15. Reality Bytes 16. Alex in Wonderland 17. Deus Lex Machina 18. The Missing Link 19. Immortal Kombat

BASICS Street Date: September 8, 2020 BD and DVD Presented in 16×9 widescreen format Running Time: Feature: Approx 817 min Enhanced Content: Approx 60 min

(xx)

[eamesandbellamyaremyheaven]

Somewhere, Now and Then Ch2 || Arthur x Sansa (Kalots/GoT Outlander AU)

King Arthur: Legend of the Sword x Game of Thrones  Outlander AU (there’s no such thing as canon)

Warnings: Violence, blood, mention of non-con 

Summary: England, 1945. After serving in the war as a nurse, Sansa Bolton (former Stark) seizes the opportunity of going on vacation with her husband Ramsay to rekindle their relationship. But what happens when Sansa finds herself travelling back in time, to the 6th century, where she meets the King Arthur and his Knights?

A.N.//- Needless to say, this is loosely based on the Outlander premise. The story is told through Guy Ritchie’s interpretation of the Arthurian legend, and for that locations and traditions - and the time itself - had to be adapted to work accordingly. Any questions you have, feel free to ask!

Prologue || Chapter One

Chapter Two - Mistakes

Sansa opened her eyes slowly, regaining consciousness, and only then she noticed she was lying on the floor, next to the stone. She got up quickly, walking away from the circle of stones towards the road. 

She must’ve fainted, she thought to herself, lost likely due to the excitement created by her transgression.

Sansa stopped abruptly, looking around her. She should be by the car then, but the vehicle was no where to be seen, and there was no asphalt lane on sight either. Had she passed the road already? Doubtful. The stones were settled on flat lands, there’s no possible way she could have walked right by the road without seeing it.

Maybe she had walked in the opposite direction. Sansa strode hastily towards the stones, and right through them on a straight line, taking a few more steps into the woods before stumbling on her own foot.

The road had disappeared. How was that possible? Roads don’t simply seize to exist. Maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe she had come across some poison flower or herb that had caused her disorientation. That sounded reasonable. She should just stay put, and wait for someone to come and look for her. But how long could it take? No one knew she was missing, and no one could’ve guessed she would be by the stones.

Sansa decided not to wait, then - mistake number one.

She would later come to the realization that she had made a lot of mistakes that day.

She looked around for a while, pondering on her options. If she simply walked through the woods in a straight line, she might ended up finding the lodge they were in, or in the least she would end up finding someone she could ask for help.

So, she walked.

She must’ve walked for a couple hours - the sun was setting higher - when she heard voices not far from her. She then fasten her pace, wondering in said voices might belong to her family, that after noticing her absence had come looking for her.

Sansa was running now, her mantle hanging loose on her arms, as she became closer the voices grew louder and restless.

She found herself on higher ground, looking down to a small stream, and the man that stood by it.

Uncle Petyr.

Sansa stepped down from the small hill carefully, trying not to slip on the mud. She’d been so happy to see a familiar face, or any face at all, for that matter, that she ignore all of her self-preservation instincts, specially that loud voice inside of her that yelled something’s wrong.

That was until Petyr reeled swiftly on his feet as he pulled up a large bow, shooting a fast arrow that hit a man on his chest with a thud, and the man fell on the floor, chocking on the blood that gushed from his mouth.

Sansa gasped, frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of control, and only at that moment, as the adrenaline kicked in, she could see all the deviations she’d ignore before. The man looked identical to her uncle, yes, but his hair was longer and untamed. His clothes were archaic, medieval maybe? Was her family having a laugh at her expense, pranking her with some humorless practical joke? Had she stumbled upon a festival ceremony, a war reenact, that somehow her uncle was taking part of? She wanted to believe so, as any fool would, but Sansa was no fool. She knew well the smell of blood, she had it with her everyday for three years, and she would never be able to erase it from her mind.

The man, whom she was most certainly sure was not Petyr, had heard her approaching - if not, he definitely heard her gasp - and spun around, facing her, bow armed and aiming. 

Everything became a blur, as she went into shock. Her breath became erratic, as everything around her seemed to be spinning in slow motion. 

The faux Petyr looked at her, confused, as he lowered the bow, asking her something she couldn’t hear due to the drumming of her pulse. He tried to walk to her, but she backed away, stumbling on rocks and loose branches.

Suddenly something else caught his attention, as two men came out of the shadows, axes and swords aimed high. The archer easily evaded their attack, and as he struggled with them Sansa took the chance to ran as far away from that horrible scenery as her feet allowed her.

Sansa kept glancing over her shoulder, to make sure no one was coming after her, that she forgot to see what’s ahead of her, colliding harshly against someone. She stumbled back, as she’d lost her balance form the impact, and she would had fallen if that someone hadn’t steadied her in place, his hands pulling her waist roughly against him.

“What do we have here?” he asked, pulling her close as she tried to free herself “A pretty girl, with a pretty red-hair...” He spoke with an heavy accent, as he moved his fingers along a few hair strands. The man looked exactly like what she expected from a Saxon warrior - strongly built, with a long and unkempt mane and beard as light as sand, rugged leather and heavy fur covering his body, and a strong scent of beer, sweat and horse shit that had Sansa holding a gag, as his hand went from her hair to the outlines of her face.

“Let me go!” Sansa’s voice is low and menacing, as she kneed him in the crotch, making him let go of her as he struggled to stay upright

Sansa tried to ran away, but she hadn’t made very far when she felt his arm pulling her back, and towards the ground. She struggled to set herself free, but he had her pinned down with his body, his hands pressing her wrists. His eyes are feral as he leans down over her, and as she turned her face away, dodging his kiss, he settled his chapped lips on her neck, and at the same time he brought one hand down, lifting her skirt and squeezing her thigh.

That small distraction was all Sansa needed to use her free hand to reach for a rock nearby and bash it against the man’s temple, whom quickly rolled off of her, screaming in pain.

Sansa struggled to rise herself from the ground, her body was sore and tired, but as she did her attacker was already in front of her, with blood streaming down from the cut under his eyebrow, and a fire in his eyes that meant he wanted to see her bleed.

“English bitch!” he slapped her across the face, hard. Sansa fell on the floor, powerless from the blow, instinctively setting her cold hand against her burning cheek. The man throttled towards her with malice intent, but she would not give up without a fight. When he was right in front of her, ready to do what he wanted, she kicked him on his knee, making him loose his balance.

Sansa got up quickly this time, just in time to see a third person approaching, fast. He held a long sword in his hands, engraved with runes that seemed to glow as he took a stronger grip on the leather handle. Was the blow on her cheek so strong that she was seeing things?

The swordsman made a swift motion with his sword, sweeping from side to side, pulling it closer to his shoulders right after. Her attacker gasped, his eyes opened wide. His head, now detached from the rest of his body, slid down from his neck and rolled onto the ground, only coming to a stop by Sansa’s feet, whom grunted, with repulse, as she quickly kicked it to the side.

The stranger in front of her chuckled at that as he advanced in her direction, but Sansa stepped back, with her eyes set on the weapon on his hand, creating a comforting distance between her and the armed man.

“It’s okay, I mean no harm” The man said, as he put the sword back to its leather sheath, and held his hands up, a simple gesture of surrender “What are you doing alone in the woods, dressed only with a...” he pointed to her bloodied and dirty dress “...nightgown?”

“It’s none of your business!” she tried to sound fearless, but her frail voice betrayed her 

“Alright, then, have it your way” he added with a smile, as he sat down on a rock with slow movements, placing his right hand inside his jacket against his left side ribs, frowning as he pulled it out and saw it painted red.

“You’re bleeding” Sansa noted, her medical training kicking in immediately, but still she hesitated, and did not move. He had helped her, by beheading a man. He seemed harmless, but the dead man would beg to differ. 

“Vikings are hard to kill” he replied, with a sly grin, which made her instinctively arch her brow. Was he seriously cracking jokes as he bled to death?

“I can help you, I’m a nurse” Sansa said, as she walked towards him. He looked confused “An healer. May I?”she pointed, and as he nodded she sat down on her knees in front of him.

He took his jacket off, allowing her better access to the wound. She rose his shirt carefully, just high enough for her to see the source of the blood.

Her eyes were focused on the cut. His eyes were focused on her.

Footsteps echoed from the tree lines, waking them both from their trance. A man came rushing in, the same man that looked like Petyr but wasn’t.

“Ah, I see that you’ve found my ghost” he joked at first, but his face changed instantly as he saw the man’s condition “Are you hurt?”

“It’s not deep, it’ll only require a couple stitches. But I have to clean it first.” Sansa spoke, as she tore the hem of her skirt and used it as gauze.

The archer looked at her, astonished, and then back at the swordsman, who grinned at him in response

“She’s an healer” the swordsman vexed

At that Sansa pressed the cloth a little harshly, and the man winced, just like she knew he would.

A thin smile appeared on the archer’s lips as he spoke “I’m gonna get the boys, we’ll set camp here” he turned to leave, but then turned back “You should’ve stayed at the castle like I told you to”

“Bill, just go already!”

“I’m going, I’m going...” the archer, Bill, replied, but before he moved he looked down at Sansa “Take good care of our Majesty, if you please”

“Bill!” he swordsman yelled exasperated, and Bill walked away, boastful.

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh at that interaction, forgetting momentarily the strangeness of her surroundings. She pulled the fabric away from the cut and folded it in reverse, inspecting the wound. The flow had almost stopped, she could tend the cut now, but she decided to wait for Bill to come back with the group, they had medical supplies, certainly. So she sat the dry side of the cloth back on the man’s ribs, only then noticing how his eyes followed her every movement.

Sansa cleared her coarse throat “Are all people this formal around you, or is it like a petname?”

Now it was his time to laugh, and he did so loud and cheeky, clearly amused by her boldness.

“You can call me Arthur”

Taglist is OPEN! @anonymousme86​

[arrowsource]

[archivingspn]

2020: Twitter- Meghan Fitzmartin, Emma Peterson, Davy Perez, Jeremy Adams (Part 3)

After the previous exchanges were over certain factions still felt upset about this exchange and later, and tried to convey their upset to the writers:

nataliefisher: “That would possibly be because people felt pre-warned that something would be a big deal, and so felt like they were being told to look for meaning. ‘emmafpeterson: Me, thinking about tomorrow's #songoftheday and the likely reactions to it....  🙃🎶  [A few people already know what it is because I warned them last week...] ‘[gif of season 6 gag reel of J2M dancing and jumping in a wooded area. Caption on the bottom of the gif reads ‘I REGRET NOTHING’]’” - 1:34 Sep 5, 2020

[source]

megfitz89: “Possibly! But the translation was wrong. We have to celebrate the friendships from the show however we can since who knows when we will see each other 🤷‍♀️“ -1:36 AM Sep 5, 2020

nataliefisher: But it's not fair to expect the internet to psychically understand injokes or private things when something is being presented publicly for the fandom. You know I'm not a dick about stuff like this, but honestly if she KNEW it was misinterpretable, the risk was taken by choice.

[source] 

nataliefisher: It would be different without  forewarning & presented with the caveat but that's not what happened. Ppl were primed to be looking out for something they assumed was important. It's not fair to criticise them for making a big deal when there was an arrow pointed saying Big Deal.

nataliefisher: I love you guys and the family you've formed, but I truly don't know how you expected this to go in this circumstance.

megfitz89: Oh I wasn’t criticizing! My tweet was truly from a place of “oh this is interesting” because it went in a surprising direction!

[source]

megfitz89: “I think it’s a trust thing? But also none of us knew it was misinterpretable.” - 1:42 AM Sep 5, 2020

nataliefisher: “Emma's tweet very much sounds like she was aware how the fandom would react. Maybe she meant how the friend group would react, to cause inner heart tugs, but that's not what it comes across like.” - Sep 5, 2020

megfitz89: “Very much about the friend group, not about fandom. It’s almost impossible to guess how fandom will react to anything tbh. We have talked about this song for months and she was excited to share the SOTD with us.” - Sep 5, 2020

[source]

nataliefisher: “Well, that's often the result of ingrouping/socialising in a public place. I am sorry people are giving you shit about it. I think people are just very stressed.” - Sep 5, 2020

megfitz89: “Totally understand the stress. It’s 2020. Stress is the daily feel, I think. We all seek to express it and feel love and celebrate each other however we can.” - 1:50 Sep 5, 2020

[source]

nataliefisher: “Fans generally have expected/analysed the quote and song to be thematic to the scenes shot that day. As far as I know, the Vancouver Production Board people are generally aware of this, even if they've denied that's the deal, there was an awareness people think that.” - 1:51 AM Sep 5, 2020

nataliefisher: “And I think that's why people are pissed.” - Sep 5, 2020

megfitz89: “ Interesting! Good to know! Truly unaware of things like that, for as connected as twitter makes us seem, it is also very unconnected!” - Sep 5, 2020

[source]

nataliefisher: “I really only saw this whole thing 5 mins ago and I don't know the song, so I have no dog in this fight. But yeah.” - Sep 5, 2020 

megfitz89: “😂 no worries! It is all good info and thoughts!” - 1:55 AM Sep 5, 2020

[source]

CatherineinNB: “This ... hurts? Like for real I just cried & am trying not to cry again. We're legit struggling as a fandom right now. This is really, really, really hard & we really love you guys & we often cope with the uncertainty by trying to put together the pieces & ... yeah, this hurts.” - Sep 5, 2020

davyperez: “ Please stay healthy and take care of yourself.” - 1:39 AM Sep 5, 2020

[source]

davyperez: “We love this show and its fandom. Writing for Supernatural has been a good part of our lives. We’ve lost sleep. Had children. Cried. Literally many times. We are in the last day of filming, trying for a cathartic celebration. But alas- Perhaps we should say goodbye in private.” - Sep 5, 2020

davyperez: “We will all be working on other shows, which will all be great, watch and support them, and hopefully you will get your fix there!“ - 1:56 AM Sep 5, 2020

[source]

••other parts: [part 1] [part 2]

[cybertronian-cupid]

Soooooo, I may or may not have gone on a b i g self-indulgent writing binge and will absolutely be, ah, writing more in the future, there's still a lot to write before I'm done, buuuuut ~Mila💟

Guysssssss this SERIES WILL BE SUCH A TREAT! *cackles* I adore it when my darling writes~ ~Gregoria🏩

It's on AO3, too if you prefer to read longer things there (also gives you a list of future lucky characters)

Summary:

Don't ask how this all started, I just wanted an excuse to write Mila getting her throat fragged

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Chapter One: Wheeljack

“That’s a fancy new choker, where’d you get it?”

That’s not the first comment Mila expected to hear from Wheeljack upon arriving at the Bots’ base, but she shrugs it off. “I had some specially made for this challenge I found out about.” She tugs gently at the hem of her new crop top which features an arrow pointing up to her neck, the words under it reading ‘Break My Choker’. She grins cheekily, “Wanna give it a try?”

All optics in the base are on her now, but she could care less. All present are Bots she wouldn’t mind participating in her fun little game. “C’mon, they’re specially made to stretch super easily and be almost impossible to break. I knew it wouldn’t be a challenge with a normal choker, so –“

She’s stopped when a finger presses to her soft lips, “Don’t gotta explain, Sweetspark, I’ll play your game.”

She smiles against him, moving her head just enough to speak, “I just wanted to offer a prize to whoever can break the choker.”

Magnus is quick to excuse himself to go on a sudden patrol. Mila shrugs it off and readies herself on her knees.

Wheeljack offered to play this game first, and so first he goes.  His spike pressurized pretty quick when she explained her new challenge, but seeing her kneeling in front of him, mouth open and ready has him twitching with anticipation.  The tip meets her tongue first, then her lips.  She hums happily against him, moving her head just enough that the head now sits fully in her mouth.

He’s no stranger to the warmth of Mila – in more ways than one – but being in her mouth is something else entirely.  She teases the head of his spike with her tongue, swirling it around the tip before giving a firm suck.  He guesses that’s her way of telling him to keep going.

Tangling his digits of one servo in her hair, he gives a couple of thrusts into her mouth.  She swallows him down without issue.  Moans and curses slip out of his mouth as he gets bolder, more confident about how well she can take his spike.  His unoccupied hand caresses her face for a moment before gripping her face just enough to be able to tilt it up.  The new angle makes it much easier to push in.

Mila moans softly around him, massaging the bottom of his shaft with her tongue.  She traces every bump and biolight best she can with her mouth so full.  He picks up the pace, thoughts of the choker gone.  Only thoughts plaguing his processor now are of how wet and warm her mouth is, how good it feels around him.  He voices a few of these thoughts to her, earning more lewd moans against his shaft; the vibrations send him reeling, but not enough to make him overload.  Not yet.  He doesn’t want it to be over so soon.

“Scrap, Mila…” His words sound gruff, a complete contradiction to the pleasure written all over his face.  Mila only chuckles, adjusting her position as her knees are beginning to hurt.  Wheeljack is quick to accommodate this, pushing into her throat at long last.

The Cupid gags slightly before giving a soft moan.  Tears prick her eyes as her vision unfocuses slightly.  More curses fall from Wheeljack, but she’s hardly focused on those.  Her senses focus solely on the spike she’s drooling on.  She can feel how her throat stretches, the choker stretching ever so slightly with it applies more pressure to the area.  She gets the feeling her neck may be bruised by the end of all this.

“Scrap…”  He’s getting close.  She can tell, not only in how his fans roar or how desperate the bucking of his hips get but also in the twitching of his spike and how the amount of fluid leaking from it has increased.  It’s surprisingly sweet, she just might get addicted.

The next time Wheeljack thrusts into her throat, she swallows around him, effectively throwing him over the edge.  He holds her head down on his spike as he overloads, transfluid spilling past her lips, dripping down her jaw, and falling onto her shirt.  He’s a panting mess when he finally pulls out.

Mila takes a moment to lick what she can off of her face, tugging softly at her choker as she does.  Still intact.  Too bad.  She smiles up at the other three Bots present.  “So,” she gives a smile, “who’s next?”