#iron giant is so good I weep every time at the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lliminall · 2 years

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psssst... do you have any spicy feitan head cannons? 👁️ like him eating you out during your period ones or in general lmao

the way I have been foaming at the mouth waiting for someone to ask me about this 💀 god bless u for this ask lol. I was just going to do some headcanons but this ended up turning into a whole scenario, I am so fucking whipped for this man 😭

🚨MDNI GIANT RED ALERT WARNING FOR PERIOD PUSSY EATING THIS IS MY KINK I AM NOT HOLDING BACK🚨

feitan ain’t no bitch. he will absolutely eat it all times of the month, provided you can behave well enough and get him riled up

I feel like he uses oral as a reward for good behavior. it’s something he wouldn’t be willing to do unless you’d been with him for a while (because I imagine he sees it as something intimate and it makes him a wittle bit shy 👉👈). it’s a little treat. for you AND for him but you don’t need to know that second part

if you’re on your period and you’ve been a little shit, he will absolutely leave you there to suffer. but if he’s satisfied with how you’ve been acting recently, it’s a perfect opportunity to reward you, ease your pain, and satisfy his period sex kink which I’ve already covered in unnecessary detail lmao.

to make a long fuckin story short he likes blood, and you don’t have to put in that much work to convince him he’d even be ok with having some in his mouth

the situation I’m thinking of goes like this: he’s been fingering you for a while. you’re so sensitive and wet and he can already feel the blood stringing across his fingers and smell a little bit of that sharp, metallic scent permeating the air.

it’s not something he’s unfamiliar with. feitan has been a fighter for his entire life. it’s a favorite pastime of his. and to smell it in this context, coming off of you, while you look so slutted out and desperate underneath him…it gets him excited. bricked up PAINFULLY in his children’s size medium pants lmao

your lips part, mouth hanging open uselessly while he’s working between your legs, and the sight is too tempting for him. without stopping to think, he reefs his fingers from your cunt and holds them up to your lips. you only hesitate for a second, eyes widening as you realize what he wants you to do, before you lean forward and suck his fingers into your mouth.

his breath hitches. the wet heat of your mouth has his dick twitching in his pants. your tongue is running over the pads his fingers, eyes slipping closed, the softest moan vibrating through his hand as you do exactly what’s asked of you. you’re being so, so good for him, and you’re enjoying it.

the taste is tart, metallic, and tinged with the savory undertones of your slick. he lets you suck gently until he can’t hold himself back anymore.

when his lips crash into yours, his tongue follows immediately after, sliding across yours and taking that taste for himself. of course, he’s tasted blood before. his own, plenty of times. an enemy’s, a few unfortunate times. but never yours. not like this.

his thoughts go back to the space between your legs, and before he can think, he’s dragging his mouth down your neck, your chest, your belly…hovering over your messy slit.

your tummy tenses when you feel his breath between your legs. no one’s ever taken you into their mouth like this before, not when you’re bleeding and needy and cramping and-

he places a tentative kiss onto your clit. just testing the waters. he’s never done this before, either.

and then he kisses you again, a bit more openly, a bit more forcefully, tasting more of that iron and slick on his tongue, and now his mind is made up. he licks a long, slow stripe from the bottom of your entrance to the top of your clit, and you keen. back arching. fingers curling into his hair. it makes him groan into your heat.

from there, he’s completely without shame. no hesitation as he goes in on your weeping pussy, every sob and gasp from your lips egging him on. it feels good to be the only one making you feel like this. it feels good to be the cure for your pain. it feels fucking amazing to see you come right up to that edge and beg him to please, please push you over.

when you come, he’s thankful for the way your eyes squeeze shut and your head tips back. you can’t see his own expression, obsessed and damn near adoring, as you fall apart under his mouth. he’s going to work you until you’re fisting his hair and shoving his head away. he’s going to kiss your mouth bloody and fuck you raw into the red-stained mattress. he’s going to pull out just to empty onto your sloppy pussy, mixing his cum, your cum, your blood.

it’s the first time for both of you, but it’s sure not going to be the last

maybe next time he’ll find a way to get his own blood mixed in there, too

#i MAY #have gotten a bit carried away #feitan.ll #hxh.ll #asks.ll #my works.ll

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malaks-perch · 4 years

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wine tasting

consul valerius x reader

everyone loves a pain in the ass...

warnings: maybe some innuendoes? floof. spice and everything nice. soft angst, but i dont think so. sofff valerius? spicy valerius👌👌 swearing. i think there's swearing

a/n: sorry this took so long @taeguccibracelet and i think its kinda short. lil fast paced too. my ask is open.

now when nadia asked you to spend a day with valerius, you did not anticipate the forever drinking man to be so.. so.. so sassy.

i mean who could refuse nadia? portia came scrambling in as you finished speaking with nadia when the redhead announced the early arrival of some foreign ambassador the countess appraised your company and asked that you entertain her's for a while.

now honestly, you'd rather let them scream at each other until they lost their voices. neither of them got along, asra once dismissed himself, but the nadia's hopeful eyes were hard to ignore.

portia was silently thanking you a thousand times over as she trailed behind the countess.

when the courtiers got wind of this?

you? entertain them?

all of them scrambled for an excuse to be elsewhere. everyone except valerius.

"well? you heard the countess." he raised a brow, motioning to the door making the wine in the same hand violently jolt in it's glass. "entertain me."

you had to grit your teeth. bite your cheek. curl your fists. anything to keep from snapping on this arrogant son of a—

"are you going to stand there?" valerius shook his head unimpressed that his needs were not met. "if standing around is all you're good for, now that you've gone and defeated—"

"listen here, you pompous piece of palace trash." there went your restraint. words were flying fast and not a thought in your head would stop you from giving this man a piece of your mind. "the only reason you're here, valerius, is because nadia took pity on your drunk ass. you're lucky that asra stopped lucio from dragging you down with him because if it were me? i would have dropped you like a bag of dirt. entertain. yourself."

the audience in your head was applauding you for a flawless rebuttal to valerius. you were storming towards the door and already planning how you would unwind after dealing with him. honestly, the nerve of that guy—

a hand shut the door you had begun to open. fear spiked at your nerves. for a moment you forgot who you were and the identity of the person behind you. striking up an ounce of bravery, you followed the hand over your shoulder to valerius.

now.. you would expect a furious courtier. the smell of nectar and a sweet floral scent filled your nose that would have put anyone to ease, but the bitter trails of alcohol were a sharp reminder of who you had pissed off.

but upon seeing valerius at ease, you didn't know what to expect. he raised a brow, a tiny smirk on his face upon meeting your wide eyes.

"if i had been lucio moments ago that little outburst of yours would have you banished from the palace walls in a second."

you wanted to tell him that you'd purposely give him food poisoning, but the clarity of his silvern irises rendered you speechless. especially when he leaned in until he was a breath away.

"but it's a good thing i'm not him." he whispered, staring into your glimmering eyes.

there was a moment of stillness. valerius staring into your eyes and you trying to figure out why you didn't want to rip him apart for invading your personal space. but then it was gone.

he was gone. turning his back to you and skillfully picking up a few bottles of wine and an old glass in another. one moment you could taste the sweet aroma on his breath and another he was back to you.

"come along, magician." valerius raised a brow to you, peering over his shoulder with a smirk. "why don't we disappear for awhile? it'd be a shame for you to have an episode in front of the countess."

disappear?

your eyes widened. no way. he couldn't have— could he? you chased after valerius, running through the door after him, "was that a pun?!"

valerius rolled his eyes as you both walked down a hallway and off the veranda into the garden. it was then you realized that the path valerius was taking through the garden was one you were unfamiliar with.

you reached for valerius, clinging to his arm as you glanced around at the different part of the garden where valerius was taking you. he only smirked, never sparing a glance as stopped in front of rusted iron gates that towered over the both of you.

"valerius, if you even think of assassinating me—"

valerius let out something of a laugh before glancing over at you, "obviously the palace magician isn't aware of the previous count's cellar."

"lucio couldn't have—"

"as much as lucio would like to claim this masterpiece, this is far too classy for his tastes."

you fought a laugh, watching as he pulled out a gilded wooden key and unlocked the giant doors.

valerius ushered you inside and closed the door, unaware of how you'd suddenly looked doe-eyed when you'd begun to take in your surroundings.

plush pillows and blankets were set over every inch of the floor. shades of maroon and magenta set out in the floor while floating candles lit themselves up upon valerius muttering an incantation.

"it's amusing that you consider yourself important enough to be assassinated." valerius called, plopping down on a large black pillow much too big to be for just one person.

"and i suppose you are?" you scoffed, raising a brow as you took one of the bottles from valerius and sitting next to him on the blankets.

he set a hand on his chest as he set down wine bottles, "vesuvia would weep for me."

"i would weep for vesuvia if historians thought you were important enough to be assassinated." you snorted, opening the wine bottle so the cork flew past his head.

in turn, valerius mirrored you except his cork hit you square in the forehead. he chuckled at the horrified look you gave him.

in favor of preserving your honor, you chucked one of the pillows behind you and it landed square in valerius's face. he sat up in time to see you on your back, laughing at the way his face contorted with disgust, but upon seeing you smiling he couldn't help but smirk a little.

he handed you a bottle and you took it wondering what on earth made his lips turn up in the slightest.

"i didn't know you could smile, valerius."

"I didn't know the palace magician could have fun." he shot you smile, gilded eyes watching you from over the rim of his glass.

"you never asked." you teased, wrapping your lips around the bottle's rim and dipped your head back to let the sweet liquid sliver down your throat.

if you'd been looking you would have seen valerius nearly drop his wine glass while he stared.

his eyes focused on the length of your neck before trailing up to the wine that trickled from the side of your mouth. valerius tore his eyes away from you so he could gather his thoughts as he stared into his own glass.

"if you keep drinking, you're going to end up drunk." he rolled his eyes, relaxing into the pillows behind him.

he wasn't expecting a weight to come crashing down on the pillows to his right. his eyes snapped open and his head snapped over to find you with your legs propped on his and raising a brow at him.

"are you—"

"why don't you like me?" he nearly choked on his spit.

he met your brillaintly dilated eyes and nearly swore aloud for it. every time he found himself staring at them he would nearly forget what he was thinking.

you crossed your arms, waiting for an answer. with your hair messed up and how you laid back with that bottle of wine...

he found his thoughts dipping into the gutter.

"p-pardon?" he asked, opting for switching his glass for the bottle to take a nice long drink.

"why don't you like me?" you repeated without missing a beat.

valerius set his bottle down while he gathered his thoughts and waited for you to continue.

"you're always nitsticking me—"

"nitpicking."

"see?!" you pointed your bottle at him and his lips puckered when he realized that he'd proved your point. "then you're always looking down your nose at me. so tell me, consul~"

he watched you climb up so you sat up beside him. valerius tried so desperately to maintain eye contact, but with the alcohol in his system and the delicious warmth radiating off you- it was becoming a challenge.

"why don't you like me?"

he scoffed, taking your bottle and nearing your face with the slightst smirk. "i'm like that with everyone, darling."

you snatched the bottle from his lips and before he could ground something out, you were straddling his lap and pushing him back by his chest as you took a swing.

he swallowed when you never broke eye contact with him. one of his hands curling around yours that pressed to his chest before yanking.

you went falling forward and valerius' lips caught yours, drinking down the wine from your lips before pulling back to look at your flustered expression.

wine trickled down the side of his mouth and he grinned, flipping you on your back before standing up. "despite how very alluring you are, i propose we reconvene after we're both sober, yes?"

valerius helped you to your feet and promptly guided you out of the cellar upon hearing the guards calling for you.

you couldn't help, but watch as valerius locked up the cellar with the same pointed look as always except there was a tiny pull upward at the corner of his lips.

"i'm surprised you didn't we didn't wine, dine, and—"

you were cut off by his chuckle and his hand caressing your cheek, leaning into you. "obviously, you've had too much to drink."

"so you're into me then, consul valerius?"

a mischevious smile on his face before he waved his hand and let out the most dramatic sigh. "i suppose it's the pretty face that got me."

he turned meeting your eyes, the sharp gaze making your breath hitch. especially when he extended a hand towards you.

"but you can't say that's what drew you to me." his fingers looped with yours and tugged you to walk beside him.

"i think~" you sang, spinning in his arms as the sunset flitted over the gardens. "it was the wine."

valerius rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to your knuckles before you parted to join the guards waiting for you at the veranda.

"until next time, valerius."

you were halfway up the stairs when he called you back.

underneath the moonlight, arms crossed over his chest as he gave a teasing smile. even in the wine stained robes, he seemed most radiant as he stared upon you.

"next time, we dine first."

a giddy feeling bubbled in your chest and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling then. maybe valerius was the cranky, ill-tempered consul.

but he could be.. pleasant when he wanted to.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana valerius #valerius the arcana #valerius x mc #valerius x you #valerius x reader #the arcana x apprentice #valerius x apprentice #the arcana x mc #the arcana x you #the arcana x reader #valerius #consul valerius #consul valerius x mc

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lifeattomsdiner · 4 years

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Since people have been posting their games of Olaf Hits The Dragon With His Sword, and since I love indulging in a bit of purple prose now and then, I ran a game of my own for a bit of fun. Results under the cut!

And it came to pass, so the songs tell us, that in days of old there was a warrior named Olaf, whose prowess was mighty and whose deeds were great. With a stroke of his sword he could split a boulder in two; he could set his shield against a hurricane and not be stirred an inch. Monsters and devils that plagued the ordinary folk were game to him, and wheresoever he went the broken remains of those foolish enough to stand against him were strewn in his wake, for it was meet that a warrior of such great ability might set forth to earn fame and fortune by the strength of his arm. [+1 AMBITION]

At length he came to a land beset by the depredations of a great dragon. No ordinary wyrm this; its foul breath could wither fields of crops entire, and the passing of its shadow was known to strike strong folk dead with stark terror. Its ravenousness could not be sated, for it set forth with cold malice to devour, wither and rot all in its path—some said that it would, in time, devour the entire world. [+1 DEATH]

Hearing of the dire beast, Olaf went forthwith to the deep, yawning cavern in which it was reputed to make its lair. Standing in the last pale traces of sunlight, he took a great breath and bellowed into the deep darkness, “Beast of the unholy depths! Ravener of the lands, slaughterer of the good folk! I am Olaf, and I come with wrath and blade to end your terror! My fury shall clip your wings; my might shall split your thick hide asunder and peel the rotten meat from off your bones! And when you lie dead at my feet, I shall take your skull as a trophy, to proclaim to all the world the righteous wrath with which Olaf deals with such monsters!” [+1 BLOOD]

With in the depths, the pale dragon stirred and replied with a voice that was a whisper of doom: “High honor indeed! To be visited upon by such a man! A man of accomplished violence, a man of blood and tears who has left countless bereaved weeping in his wake! No better end can I conceive of than to be slain by a man who makes death his life!” [+1 AMBITION]

“Forgo your false pleasantries, beast!” Olaf said. “I have conquered all who have stood before me. I wrestled the great serpent that lived in the Lake of Shadows and tore its head from its neck; the giant of the Whispering Woods I smote at the knees so that he knelt before me to receive my deathblow; the armies of the Iron Castle scattered before me. Think you that you shall fare any better, pale worm? I am the great ender of your kind!” [+1 AMBITION]

“Spoken well,” replied the dragon. “But pretty words hide foolishness as gilt does plain iron, and thy foolishness runs deep, o Olaf. For art though not but the latest of many to proclaim invincibility in the hour of thy greatest mortal peril? History is littered with the unsung skulls of thy forbears, Olaf; they await yours to join them!” [+1 IRON]

“Unsung?” said Olaf. “Nay, not unsung I, for already my legend is known throughout many lands, carried on grateful tongues. I fear not death, dragon, for one dies only when they are remembered no longer, when their deeds are no longer sung in the great halls. Fall here I may, yet the memory of Olaf the mighty shall endure even unto the ending of the world.” [+1 DEATH]

The dragon’s laughter rattled the stone of the cave. “Unto the ending of the world? All things have their time, mighty Olaf, all things die, even memory, even the world itself. Triumph or fall here, it matters not; in the end, thy flesh and bones shall become dust, thy glory rubble, thy memory a faded curiosity. Fight, Olaf, but the end awaits you nonetheless.” [+1 DEATH]

Olaf hit the dragon with his sword.

[ROLL: 1 red, 1 black, 3 gold, 3 white. DEATH dominates.]

The blow rang out, dashing the dragon’s body down where it was broken on the cold stone of the cavern floor, and setting the walls shaking. The tremors brought great boulders crashing down upon the entrance to the cavern, where they shut out every last drop of sunlight, plunging the two adversaries into utter darkness.

“And so the site of my greatest glory is to be my tomb as well,” Olaf said. “I am satisfied; it makes a fitting end to my song. For ages yet to come, folk will sing of the might of Olaf and the foes he slew, how he was a hero without peer on the face of the earth.”

Laughter shuddered from the dragon’s carcass as the last drops of life bled out of it. “A hero they shall name thee, and a hero they shall misname thee, Olaf with a mind of blood and gold. Thou never didst care for anything but thy own fame and fortune, and thou never didst resolve a quarrel but by drawing steel and drawing blood. Thou wast a scourge on the land as surely as I, Olaf, and in time the bloody hands of those such as thee shall tear down all that is good in the world...”

#tabletop #my writing #olaf hits the dragon with his sword

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holy-hyuck · 4 years

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Hocus Pocus, Please Focus!

Trying to make a sleeping potion for your parents so you and your best friend can sneak out to a senior party is only ever good in theory; especially since Lee Felix really sucks at being a wizard.

Pairing: Wizard!Lee Felix x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Comedy, Platonic relationship

Warnings: A dead rat?

happy halloween y’all!!!

“Is that a dead rat?” Felix questions just as you enter his parents’ office. He picks up the rodent by its tail, inspecting the bloody ball of fur, and you nearly gag as he dangles it in front of your face.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s that bloody book of yours that called for it,” you tell him as he puts it back in the box you brought it to him in. “Why do we need it anyway?”

The freckled boy wipes his hands on a rag. “Because-” he picks up the small book, bound in scarlet-red leather, “-it’s in the recipe for a sleeping potion. For our parents. Well, more specifically mine, but you get the point.”

He drops the book back on the table and returns to mixing the liquid inside a small, store-bought cauldron. He said a pot would do but Felix’s just extra like that.

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know...asking them to let us go to this Halloween party?”

Felix shrieks in laughter as an answer, causing you to roll your eyes. “Yeah, and then I’ll ask them for a million dollars.”

“Don’t be silly.” You plop down on a chair. “They’re more likely to give you the money.”

Your eyes lock and you smile at each other. You roll on the office chair towards the table, grabbing the leather book and opening it. A faint smell of roses hits your nostrils, and you trace the pressed flowers with the pads of your fingers. They’re imprinted onto the pages and the covers, and you feel delighted every time Felix lets you even touch that book. He doesn’t trust you any more than he trusts himself, and he’s a shit wizard, so that’s saying enough.

Hearing a plop, you look up to the grimace on Felix’s face.

“The rat?”

“The rat indeed.” He takes the book out of your hands despite the frown it causes on your face. “Eighteen drops of coffee, locust twigs and weeping leaves, lemon juice, hydrochloric acid, and a dead rat.” He sighs. “Well, if they don’t fall asleep after this, they’ll probably drop dead.”

“And we’ll get to go to Brooke’s party! Yay!” you exclaim, urging your best friend to finish the sleeping potion. Only two more hours until the party starts, and you still needed to iron your outfit.

You watch Felix chant, eyes flicking back and forth between the bubbling liquid and the book in his trembling hand. A large bubble pops, creating a vile sound and smell, and despite Felix’s chanting, the bubbling stops.

“Great, it’ll fart them to death at this point.” You turn and grab a newspaper, sending it flying at your friend’s hand. You miss, and it falls into the cauldron.

“Look what you’ve done,” Felix cries and fishes it out but there’s only half of the paper there; the ridges are burnt off, black liquid dripping off of them. “On the contrary...”

“Hocus pocus, Felix, focus!”

Felix groans at your words as you shoot him a stupid grin, ushering him to continue. As much fun as you're having - and, let's be honest, it's not every day you get to witness Felix's failed attempts at magic - the clock is ticking, and the last time your friend's parents found him doing magic without supervision, his voice sounded like Mickey Mouse for a week straight. Yes, you do have evidence. And yes, you are planning on using it as blackmail.

"Okay, done," Felix alerts you after about five more minutes, closing the book and setting it down, then adding, "I think."

You sigh. "So much thinking from you today, Felix, I'm proud."

He smacks you on the head with the half-burnt newspaper as both of you gather around the table, inspecting the liquid swimming inside the cauldron. Felix takes a long wooden spoon - the one you used last night to stir mac and cheese - and moves the liquid around. It comes out thick in consistency, like syrup, except it's dark green and when you look at it in the artificial light, you see specks of glitter.

The boy brings it up to his lips and you look at him, incredulous.

"What if it works and you fall asleep?"

“What do you mean 'what if'? You really have that little faith in me?" The look you give Felix answers his question. "Besides, they need a bigger dose for it to work on them, don't worry."

He offers you some and you reluctantly lick some liquid off the spoon. It tastes tangy, like when you add too much salt to your tomato salad and the taste is so overwhelming it leaves you swimming and drowning in sodium. Well, at least it doesn't taste like a dead rat...not that you know what that tastes like.

"Okay, you get this ready and I will get myself ready. Expect me here in an hour. Don't screw things up." And with your words of encouragement, you leave Felix to do his thing.

The good thing about the large glass embedded into Felix’s front doors is that you can check yourself out whilst waiting for the boy to haul his ass downstairs, admiring the black-and-gold short robe reaching your mid-thighs, with a giant hood and some old, lace-up boots with the crispy remains of mud still atop.

The bad thing about the large glass embedded into Felix’s front doors is that when you lean forward to check you have nothing between your teeth and start using your fingers as a toothpick when you notice doughnut remains wedged between the two top incisors, is the exact time Felix decides to open the door to his house, leaving you looking like a freak of nature by choice.

“Gross,” he comments but locks the doors behind him promptly and changes the subject. “They’re out cold. These potions work for up to six hours but-”

“-with your magic?” you interrupt.

“-I wouldn’t count on it,” he finishes up, giving you a death glare.

Just before you enter your car, you clock the blue, black, and white tunic over the thinnest leggings you’ve ever seen draped over Felix’s body and you shiver at the thinness of the material. Isn’t he cold?

“Is that your actual hat?” you question after you start your car and make your way to Brooke’s summer house, and Felix adjusts the pointy hat on his head.

“Yep, and look at this-”

“I can’t look, I’m in a- Is that your ring? Your actual magic ring? Lix, your parents are gonna cut off your fingers and feed them to squirrels if they find out you’ve taken it outside without their supervision. I mean, you’ve already been doing magic without them knowing, and used a sleeping potion on them, and- and-”

You hear Felix snort.

“Relax. They’re sleeping, and we get to sneak out. That’s all that matters. Besides, I got you something too.”

Finally parking your car in front of a medium-sized house, you get out and rush to your friend’s side. “What’s that?”

“It’s a magic mirror. It’s connected to every mirror in my house, so we’ll see if my parents wake up, so then we can change our names and flee the country. I want you to keep hold of it.” He pushes the small mirror into your hand and you pocket it inside the rather humongous pockets of your robe.

You thought it’d be ironic if you dressed up as a witch because...well...you know. Felix is a wizard? No? But then Felix decided to do the same and you already know you’re never gonna hear the end of the comments from your classmates.

Well, here comes what you’ve been waiting for.

About an hour into the party you’re already tipsy but you expected nothing less going into this. Felix is nowhere to be found, although to be fair, it’s not like you bothered looking for him. He’s probably with Seungmin, Jisung and Hyunjin - his other friends from a book club he promises isn’t as nerdy as it sounds - and up to no good, as always. The last time you left them unsupervised because you couldn’t stand being around Jisung for any longer than necessary, Seungmin’s hair was neon green, and Hyunjin had a bald patch at the back of his head. It was fun being a witness of their stupidity instead of a victim for once.

You walk outside to enjoy the fresh air, into a grand garden decorated with white fairy lights. It’s so beautiful you actually let out a gasp as you admire the work put into it until the sight of the pool makes you sober up on the spot. The pool is small and at first, you think the water’s just unfiltered, giving it its green hue.

But then you feel it; the sticky substance beneath your feet as it makes the most obnoxious sound you’ve ever heard when you lift up your foot. The dark goo travels across the tiles and the grass only to end up in the pool, staining the water green.

It looks...stupidly like what you and your best friend have given your parents - and at that realisation, your eyes widen and you scurry back inside to find Felix.

“Lix, there you are,” you say after good ten minutes of searching, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He turns to you with the smuggest grin plastered on his face as he hands you a drink.

“I’ve heard this new energy drink kicks ass. Try it.” He ushers you to take a sip and you do, alongside him. It does taste nice, almost like pink lemonade, and you find yourself drinking the whole cup before you know it.

“Where did you get it from?”

“Oh, someone gave it to me.” You slap his arms, causing him to yelp. “What on earth was that for?!”

“Felix! What idiot accepts drinks from a stranger?”

“The one that wants to have-” he stops himself, getting dangerously close to your face, so much you can clearly see his freckles, “-fun. Ever heard of that?”

You push him away with a shove to his stomach, eliciting a laugh. “Whenever you have fun, someone ends up paying the price, Felix.”

You look over to him and brush away some orange hairs from his cheek, only to find them stuck to his skin. You shrug it off.

“Oh, I remember now!”

Without another word, you drag him into the garden, and he spills a bit of his drink in the process.

“What am I looking at exactly?” he questions when you finally stop, motioning to the pool, which brandishes clear water much to your surprise.

"What the..."

You both jump up at the loud thud behind you and whip around to see a body dumped on the ground. You feel like throwing up, clutching Felix's hand, which is...hairy?

Looking down, you notice more of those ginger hairs growing on the back of his hand and you jerk your own hand away.

"How does that feel?"

You hear a female voice alongside a deep laugh and slow clapping. From the shadows of the trees surrounding the garden, Felix's parents emerge, and suddenly you feel yourself sinking into the ground, knowing it won't be long before you join your friend on the floor behind you.

"Mum!" Felix yelps. "Dad! What are you doing here?"

"Well you see, your dad and I were planning to have a movie night but it seems like we took a little nap. Must be something to do with that wretched slime you slipped in our drinks."

"There was a bit of a branch in there, have you noticed, love?" his father interjects, pulling out a familiar book from behind his back. "Eighteen drops of coffee, locust wings and weeping leaves, lemon juice, hydro-"

"W-wings?" Felix stutters out and you observe him for a second before the realisation seeps in.

"Fucking wings," you mutter under your breath so his parents don't hear.

"Yes, I do believe the spell calls for locust wings, but you always were bad at grammar son." His dad smiles. "So anyway, after we woke up, we saw the house number through that magic mirror I believe you gave your friend."

"Um, (y/n)." Felix traces his finger down your cheek with wide eyes, and you do the same, the feeling of roughness underneath your fingertips.

Taking out your phone, you look at the dark reflection on the screen and gasp in horror. The green and yellow scales reach all the way up to your eye, which begins turning a fiery orange colour. You blink your slit pupils and drop your phone in shock.

"I hope you enjoyed your drinks tonight, by the way. We added something special. You'll find out in the next hour anyway. Or, well, sort of."

The adults laugh, and you look to Felix's arm, now covered with thick orange fur.

"That should serve both of you a reminder not to perform magic unsupervised. Because you, Lee Felix, aren't very good at it." His mother comes up to him and pats his hairy cheek. "At least you'll make a cute weasel."

#skzwritersclub #stray kids scenarios #felix scenarios #lee felix scenarios #stray kids imagines #felix imagines #lee felix imagines #stray kids comedy #felix comedy #lee felix comedy #stray kids x reader #felix x reader #lee felix x reader

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evermorehaikyuu · 4 years

Text

Day 10

Title: The Consequence of Exhaustion

Note: There is a major character death this time, so be warned.

˜”*°•.˜”*°•.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

He couldn’t stop. As much as she warned him about the consequences, he just didn’t stop and that ended up with him somewhere else, somewhere where he couldn’t do or see the things he loved most.

Everyone had warned him about what would’ve happened if he didn’t stop and slow down. Even Kageyama warned him and still, he didn’t listen.

It had been years since he last collapsed, but Takeda and Ukai had both warned him about the consequences of not taking a break. Exhaustion and sleep deprivation together made a deadly and fatal combination, usually leading up to a heart attack and killing the person. Hinata was currently in the MSBY Black Jackals, never forgetting about that moment as he made sure that he never got that sick again so he could play volleyball.

“Shoyo, you need to take a break!” Y/N shouted as she marched inside the volleyball gym, her eyes pleading with him.

Hinata, Atsumu, and Bokuto were the last ones in the gym and knowing Hinata, Y/N had marched inside and taken matters into her own hands. Hinata glances at Bokuto and Atsumu nervously, asking silently for help. Bokuto said, “He’s okay! We’re making sure that he’s fine--”

“I know you care about Shoyo a lot, but he needs to go and rest now, he’s been at it for too long.” Y/N said patiently, but her words pierced Hinata as he realized that she was only trying to get him up to good health. “Shoyo, please, just...come with me.”

Her eyes were begging for him to take a break, so he gave in on the spot and followed behind her. He mumbled, “Y/N, I’m okay, I can take care of myself.”

“I know sometimes I’m too naggy and I know you love volleyball more than anything--”

“Not more than you!” Hinata said, gazing at her with concern before reaching out to try and take her hand. She allowed him to, entwining their fingers as if it was a natural reflex. Her small laugh made him relax and he listened to her next words attentively.

“No, that’s not what I mean. It’s just...on that day, you scared me.” Y/N gripped his hands and he knew she was thinking about what had happened to him during the Kamomedai game.

The sound of Hinata spiking the ball across the gym, his lips turned upwards in a giant grin as he realized that it was his turn to serve, his turn to continue playing. There was nothing that could stop him, he was doing great, amazing even. Even with the amount of sweat pouring down from his forehead and his legs heavy from the amount, he felt on top of the world as he played on the court.

Tanaka reached over to him to give him a high five. “Nice receive!”

“Thanks!” However, as Hinata tried to return his high five, he found his hand falling through the floor until he was staring at the ground, his heart racing abnormally fast, his muscles aching and his head slowly starting to hurt. He couldn’t stand up, he stayed there, his mind racing.

Y/N was watching him from the stands with Yachi, but she was already screaming internally, grabbing onto Yachi’s sleeve. “Is he okay? What happened to him, why did he collapse?”

As Hinata tried to stand, he toppled over, his eyes flickering at his surroundings, not knowing what was going on with him. Karasuno took a timeout and Hinata was sitting down at a bench, staring at his teammates and his coach. “I’m not sick!”

“Oh, God. His first Nationals and he has a fever….” Y/N put a hand over her mouth, shuddering as she watched his look of desperation to get back in the game, followed by a look of despair at the reality sinking in: he wouldn’t be able to play anymore.

He was sent back to the hotel with Yachi and Y/N but Y/N could feel him screaming at himself and the fact that he was trying to blink back his tears almost made her tear up herself. From that day on, she swore to herself not to let that happen ever again.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, I’ve got you by my side now!” Hinata exclaimed.

Y/N nodded happily, before walking along with him. Both of them stayed in the streets, enjoying the other’s company. What Y/N didn’t know, along with Hinata himself, was that Hinata’s body was slowly shutting down on itself. Hinata, in his excitement about being in the Black Jackals, had not taken a proper break and stretched himself to the limit.

Night after night of staying up to watch volleyball matches, he didn’t realize that he had not gotten a wink of sleep. Hinata was too high-strung and that could’ve ruined him immediately. Results, however, are very slow and they catch up before anyone can detect them.

This time was different than him just collapsing. It’d be much more fatal.

Hinata was at volleyball practice again and Y/N was currently cleaning everything up, cleaning the house and making HInata’s favorite food. It wasn’t a special day like their anniversary, but she thought that any day could be a special day, even if it was an ordinary day.

Not for long.

Song after song playing in her earbuds, it was cut off abruptly by a phone call. Picking it up, she answered Atsumu’s call. “Hey, Atsumu, what’s--”

“Y/N, listen to me closely.” His voice was grave and panicky at the same time. He had never sounded so serious before, something must’ve happened. The only reason she could speculate that he was calling her was because something had happened to Hinata.

“Atsumu…?” She clutched her phone with both hands, her breath coming out shakily. “Nothing happened to Hinata, right?”

He paused on the other line and she could practically see his face. “He’s going to the hospital right now. He collapsed in the locker room, he was knocked out. Y/N, there was an ambulance and everything, they never told us anything, you need to get there now! Y/N? Are you listening to me?”

Y/N had dropped her phone, the vision of Hinata in an ambulance hitting her like a ton of bricks. Grabbing her jacket and keys, she had ignored the phone on the floor and sprinted out of her house, getting into the car.

Atsumu ended the call as he looked over at Bokuto and Sakusa’s faces. They were indescribable, but somehow, all four of them had a bad feeling about this.

Y/N slammed the door to her car, quickly locking it as she ran into the hospital, heading to the counter in a daze. She could barely see what was in front of her and accidentally crashed into several people. There was no way she’d let anything happen to Hinata. She made a vow for herself to always take care of him and now here she was, in the hospital because she couldn’t do a simple task.

“Hinata Shoyo? He’s on the thirteenth floor.”

The thirteenth floor. Always the subject of myths and legends and superstitions of nothing ever good coming out of there. Just the words themselves made her feel like she was heading to her demise. She could swear that every building with more than ten floors got rid of the thirteenth floor and now she was on her way to the floor.

Once she stepped outside and hurried to where they were holding Hinata, a security guard told her, “Ma’am, you can’t step inside. They’re performing something on him.”

“When are they going to be done? Do you know? Please tell me, I need to see him!” She begged; even to herself, she sounded pathetically weak as she tried to look over the man’s shoulder. Nothing. He was like an iron wall, unbreakable.

“No, but I will make sure you are the first to see him.” The guard reassured her, leading her to take a seat.

Hours passed by and every minute felt like an eternity, making time go back excruciatingly slow and painful. She wrung her hands together, her leg bouncing in place as she bit her lip, trying to shake her head of the negative thoughts.

When the surgeons got out of the room, she stood up quickly. “Where is Hinata? Is he okay? What happened to him--”

“Miss. He never made it.” The lead surgeon said. “Our efforts were futile, he had gotten a heart attack but he was feeble and another attack finished him off while we were trying to help him.”

He’s not dead. He can’t be dead, it’s impossible, there’s no way Hinata Shoyo is dead. “He’s still alive, tell me he’s still alive!” She tried to push past them only to be held back by the security guard. She struggled against him. “Let go of me! I need to see him, let me see him, let me through! LET ME THROUGH, LET ME SEE SHOYO!” She screamed, trying to get out of the man’s grip and struggling like a rabid animal.

All of this took her energy away and she burst into tears, her tears falling down her face quickly as her shoulders shook. She covered her mouth so as to try and mask the bawls coming out of her with no avail. Pitiful wails and cries came out of her, raging through the breaking barrier.

The doctors could only look at her, some with melancholy in their eyes at seeing this young woman weep over someone she had tried to protect all her life, only to not be by his side when he passed away.

Hinata Shoyo, the greatest decoy, the man she had loved with all her heart, was dead.

“Come home, Shoyo, come back to me, please….” She whispered, even though she knew that her words were useless. No words could bring someone back from the grave, no matter how much love they had for the person.

Hinata watched from the corner of the room, staring at his translucent body before looking back at the girl who had told himself he’d take care of. The girl he told himself he’d protect. The girl he told himself he’d marry.

All of those broken dreams, now withered away and dead like he was. If only he had stopped. There were so many things he hadn’t done. He hadn’t gone on vacation with her. He hadn’t gotten to see her in a white dress. He would never teach his kids volleyball. He hadn’t gotten to kiss her one last time.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll wait for you.” He said quietly, wiping his own tears away. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

Taglist: @skyguy-peach @jovialnoise @versatilewindow @tsukiibaka @jaegersblogh @kodzuken-pie @sugusho @kara-grayson04 @erialexerz @attixca @volleybloop @selca11

#angstember #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata x y/n #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata x you #hinata shoyo x you #hinata angst #hinata shoyo angst #hinata imagines #hinata shoyo imagines

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avaria-revallier · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1: The Beginning after the End

The smell of iron lingers in the air. Muffled cries of pain and rage are dancing over the battlefield. Salty tears are rolling down her cheeks. Leaving light trails between the blood and dirt on her skin. Holding a familiar person in her arms. With shaking hands she gently brushes a dark strain of hair out of the kings eyes. His breathing is weak.

„Thorin, you damn stubborn dwarf! You can’t die now! Pull yourself together.“ A heavy sobbing shakes the little hobbit.

Azog is dead, so why, why couldn’t Thorin live to celebrate this victory?

Rough fingers brushing over her cheeks, as if they want to wipe away the tears, the sadness.

„Bella, Bell… don’t cry, my dear.“ Thorin looks her in the eyes. A small smile on his lips. He wants to help her ease the pain, make her feel better. He wants to tell her how he feels, now, that he finally is ‚King under the mountain‘ again. Now that he is worthy of this kind little hobbit. Now, that it is to late. Her crying breaks his heart and lets his soul ache.

„You know I am not very good at comforting, amrâlimê.“ With his last strength Thorin sits up and kisses his hobbit. He wouldn’t want to leave her, not like this, not crying.

Absent minded Bellas fingers touch her lips. How long has it been? One year? Two? No, longer, a lot longer. Her eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be. She can’t take long trips anymore and her memories begin to slip away.

„Bella… Belladonna.“ Startled turns the hobbit around.

„Lord Elrond. What can I do for you? Is it time to go already?“ The elve smiles gently down on her. He hasn’t aged one bit in all the time she had spend with him.

„Yes my dear, I believe it is time to go. We are the last ones to board a ship.“

She stares a moment into his eyes, searching for a hint of… of what? With a deep sight she turns back to the window. The boats had already left or where about to leave. The fog over the lake was getting thicker and thicker as time goes by.

Another deep sight left her mouth. Unconsciously her fingers reach up to her lips again to lightly brush over them.

The hobbit rummages through her pockets to hand a heavy letter over to Lord Elrond. In clear black letters the names of Lord Elrond’s twin sons where written on the envelop.

„Give them the letter once you boarded the boat and you are to far from the shore to turn around.

I will miss those two. You of course as well, Lord Elrond. But I have a feeling that this shouldn’t be. Even thought all my traveling and adventures, I still haven‘t found my place. Maybe I never will.“ With a sad smile on her face she stands up, grabs her backpack and leaves. Hoping that he would understand, but knowing she herself didn’t either.

Belladonna Baggins knew she couldn’t go back to the shire. Bag End, the home her father Bungo Baggings build for her mother wasn’t anymore hers, it wasn’t home. Home was somewhere else, somewhere, maybe someone…

Neither could she go to the lonely mountain. To many memories would await her there and only few of them where good. Her fingertips brushes her lips again, before she angrily banishes them into one of her pockets.

Mirkwood wasn’t that pleasant either, so maybe… yeah, why not. Somewhere where she hasn’t been before. Somewhere without memories, with lots of adventures. Somewhere where the earth is still singing.

A shy smile on her face, Sting on her side and a wooden stick in one hand Bella starts wandering to the woods where tree giants, ents, said to be living.

While feeling a familiar joy rising in her heart the smile on her face widens and the stick in her hand starts growing little leafs and flowers. The grass under her feet seems to grow greener and healthier, while the flowers start to bloom and are tilting their heads towards the humming hobbit.

Between two large oaks Bella set camp for the night.

Her trip didn’t took as long as expected. She reached the forest a week earlier. The journey wasn’t much of an adventure either, she didn’t encounter orcs or wargs, nor trolls. Apart from some minor obstacles like wolves and your every day bandits it was a rather pleasant trip.

Leaning with the back on the rough bark of the oak the hobbit looks up into the starry night-sky. Searching through her memories she found what she was looking for. The memory of a similar night. She was on the road for not more than roughly a few month, together with Thorin and his company. They didn’t light a fire, as it was warm enough without. Just like tonight. Bofur had first watch. With a sad smile she remembers how she tossed and turned that evening, until she finally gave up and joined Bofur. He had been smoking his pipe, silently starring into the night. With that ridiculous hat of his, which he never seemed to take of. That night he wasn’t joking around with her. They both had a lot to think about.

As Bella opens her eyes, she could almost see the sleeping dwarves in front of her. Fíli and Kíli, right next to each other, always worried that they would wake up alone. Bifur, muttering in Khuzdul and sometimes kicking at the invisible enemies. Bombur, who seems to eat even in his sleep. Nori and Dori, tucked together with Ori in their middle. Gloin, Oin and Balin right next to an overhang, snoring one louder than the next. Dwalin, not far from Thorin, the weapon always in reach, ready to protect his king and friends. And Thorin, sleeping without a sound, no movement and even frowning in his sleep. Worrying about more than he should. At first the snoring, the movement and muttering had irritated her, but soon she couldn’t find sleep without these familiar sounds. It is one of those memories that would help Bella sleep. Help her to ease the pain in her heart.

With a sight she closes her eyes for a moment. Holding back the tears she lets the image fade away. A growling not far from her left lets her freeze in the very moment. She knows this particular sound. Warc. Slowly her fingers creep over the ground to reach the hilt of Sting. Her eyes are searching the darkness for a sign of danger. Two dim glowing eyes are penetrating her from where the sound came from. Her back against the tree Bella stands up, not breaking eye-contact with the foul creature.

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” a voice like metal on stone.

An Orc, uglier than the ones Bella saw before, steps into the moonlight. The blue shining blade in one and her staff in the other hand she eyes the creature.

“No answer? Well, none needed. We had specific orders for whom we are looking for. An old hobbit lass.” A screeching sound echos through the woods. It might have been a laugh.

“With something very special in her possession. A ring. Give it us! Give it!”

Bella is running. Running for her life.

Another arrow misses her just barely, setting the tree in front of her on fire. A howl from behind motivates her to run faster. Smoke stings in her eyes and lungs, making it hard to breathe. Half blind she lets her feelings guide her. The trees all around are screaming in pain. The forest is burning.

With her last strength, she climbs an old tree.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry! This is all my fault. They where right. I am poisonous, always bringing bad luck to all around me.” The words were no more than a whisper, hidden behind heavy sobbing. The tears just wouldn’t stop flowing and the screams got only louder.

For the second time this night Bella freezes, as someone right next to her clears his throat.

“My dear, not all poisons are only used to kill. With the right dose and understanding they can become the best cure.”

With a shocked squeak Bella lets go of the branch she was holding on to. A large hand catches her in the middle of falling and places her gently back on a save spot.

“What is a child of Yavanna doing here in my forest?” wise eyes are looking at her from between the bark, moss and branches.

“My, my name is Belladonna Baggins, Mister Ent. I came here looking for a place to stay, a place filled with life and the grace of our creator. I was hoping to meet an Onodrim like yourself. Sadly all I found where Orcs, Warcs and bad luck. And again I managed to poison the things I love. It is my fault that the forest is burning. I am so very sorry for this, Master Ent. I regret that I ever set foot out of my door. If it wasn’t for me, they all would have lived.”

The ent listens to her, moving slowly out of the raging fire. Bella clings to the bark, heavily sniveling, finally letting all the tears flow, together with the pain, grief and sadness.

A sudden pain in her chest ends the weeping of the hobbit lass. An arrow hit her from behind and all the way through. Disbelief fills her eyes, followed by pain. She tries to scream, but only muffled sound come out. Hard she hits the ground. In a split second the orc archer gets smashed by a giant wooden hand, the warc kicked against a tree. The screaming of the surrounding trees is getting quieter, till it is completely still. The giant face of the ent appears in her field of vision, only a small distance between them. As Bella tries to say something, only a cough and some blood comes out. Pain rages from her chest and back through her body, blurring her vision. The question of the ent she could only hear like he was speaking into a pillow.

“Child, you are blessed by the goddess Yavanna. I will help you, take this chance and change your fated path. In return, I want you to take this with you. I want you to plant the hope of our race.”

Gently he places a small object in her cold hand. She couldn’t really see it, but what does it matter? Again she tries to speak. Another cough makes her spit blood. Her vision goes dark and she can’t hear the last words of the ent. What did he mean, another chance?

‘If I could just see his face one more time, I’ll die a happy death. I am sure. All I want is nothing more but to hear you knocking on my door. I would give it my all to do better next time. All and everything of me.’ She sends her silent prayers to Yavanna.

Strangely the memories of her first encounter with the grey wizard pops into her mind. The picture of a familiar hole forms in her head.

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with paneled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill—The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for the hobbit: bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (she had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over her garden, and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.

A knocking on the door made her look up from the book she was reading.

A guest? At this hour?

Slowly the small Hobbit stood up to answer the door.

„Dwalin, at your service.“ A dwarf. A dwarf on her doorstep.

A dwarf she knew a long time ago. A dwarf who died in battle, proudly swinging his weapon.

With a blank stare she scanned the dwarf.

‚Oh Yavanna, how cruel of you‘

Another moment the hobbit stood in the half open door, slowly realizing what was happening. In her empty eyes a spark lit up, after a long and cold winter. A single teardrop ran down her cheek, breaking her numbness.

„You are alive?“ She whispered under her breath.

Before Dwalin could react the small hobbit jumped at him, hugging the big warrior and sobbing at his chest.

A dream, it must be a dream. Maybe Yavanna granted her this dream to mend the crack in her heart. And even if it was just an illusion, she would be more than happy just to see them again. But still, for a dream this was kinda real.

Embarrassed she separates herself from the confused dwarf, wiping away the tears.

“Please, do come in, supper is almost ready. Would you be so kind and leave your shoes near the door? What is with the others? Are they all coming?!” Followed by an even more confused dwarf she heads to the dining room, seating him on the long table.

“Please do wait a moment. I will have to empty my whole pantry to feed thirteen dwarves and a wizard. We also have to save some for Thorin, as he will be running late.” Muttering to herself the hobbit lass vanishes in the direction of the pantry, leaving Dwalin behind. Another knock at the door announces the presence of an additional visitor.

“Master Dwalin, would you be so kind to answer the door? I have my hands full.”

Dazed the tattooed dwarf stands up to answer the door. In the meantime Bella sets the table and prepares some dishes that are easy and fast made.

“Evening, brother!” it echoes through the hallway, followed by the sound of two heads banging together. A dwarf with a long white beard enters the dining room and bows.

“Balin, at your service.” He states.

“It is good to see you again, Master Balin. Please bring the remaining food from the pantry here. I will have to answer the door. Fíli and Kíli will help you move the table.” She cleans her hands on a piece of clothes and goes to open the door for the two younger dwarves of the line of Durin.

“Fíli and Kíli, at your service!” both of them look so young.

Bella has to suppress another flood of tears, as she sees these two familiar dwarves. Before she could restrain the reflex, she hugs both tightly.

Hasty she lets go, brushing her hair out of her eyes and wiping the tears away. To stop her voice from cracking she clears her throat.

“You can leave your shoes and weapons here. I will have to excuse myself to look after the supper.” As she hurries towards the kitchen she scolds herself for reacting like this. They might think she is mad, or worse, unsociable.

Dwalin stops the two irritated dwarf lads from shouting questions at their host by assigning some tasks to them. He even answers the door a second time, just to find the eight missing dwarves literally falling inside. Behind them an amused Gandalf.

They are, as she remembered them, loud and not very well mannered. Yet as familiar as her own home. While the dwarves ate and drank, Bella was busy refilling the glasses and pints, restocking the empty plates on the table and keeping an eye on the portion she saved for their leader.

Gandalf watched the hobbit lass for the better part of the evening. She seems to behave strange, offbeat from the day before. Somehow like she became a different person over night.

She didn’t even flinch when they threw the dishes through the halls, only a slight smile on her face. Also she looks like glowing from time to time, nearly magical… Well, maybe he made a mistake.

Gandalf wasn’t the only one watching Bella. Dwalin, Balin and most of the company eyed the hobbit with curiosity and interest. How would she know about them?

They all went quiet as a someone knocked at the door.

There he was. Standing on her doorstep as if this was their first meeting. Broad shoulders that look like carrying the problems of the world. Sharp blue eyes, that pierce through hers, dark hair with some braids. Sadly without the small bells Bella gifted him.

“Gandalf… You said this place was easy to find. I got lost. Twice.” Completely ignoring the host of this home Thorin enters the hobbit hole.

“So this is the hobbit?” His attention shifts to Bella. “Tell me Mistress Baggins, have you done much fighting? Axe or Sword? What is your preferred weapon?”

Bella watches him, unsure how to answer.

“Thought as much, she looks more like a grocer than a burglar. And a lass non the less…”

“If this is a joke, it is of very poor taste!” She angrily stares up to Thorin. The relief and disbelief turns into anger. With her finger she pokes into Thorins chest, ignoring how muscular he is.

“After all we went through? You think you can just cast that aside? Do you have no shame? Do you even know how much I suffered? Just because you were to proud and stubborn to accept help!” With every sentence she pokes him again, urging him to take a step back.

“This wasn’t funny the first time and it won’t be…”

A whispered comment interrupts her angry speech. Bellas burning gaze finds Bofur.

“Oh, so you think I am cute when I am angry? Well, get ready because I’m about to be GORGEOUS!”

The whole company flinches under the angry gaze of the little hobbit. As she turns around she finds Thorin taking another step back.

“The wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” He tries to allay her anger.

The gate broke and the tears are rolling down her face. Her anger has vanished and a sharp pain strikes within her heart. This was no dream, no illusion or trick of her mind. Nor was she in Yavanna’s garden. Something happened to her. It isn’t them who are acting curious, it is her.

“This isn’t possible.” She takes a step towards Thorin. Careful she touches his cheek, looking him doubtful in the eyes, as if he could vanish any moment right before her eyes.

“Y-you are okay?” she gasps quietly, one hand over her mouth.

“How in the world is this possible? By Yavanna, what is going on? No, this is wrong…” unsteady she takes a small step back, then she faints.

Chapter 2

Masterpost

This is the first chapter of my story, what do you think?

#hobbit #hobbit imagine #hobbit headcannons #thilbo #king thorin #thorin x bilbo #female bilbo #fanfic #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #my story #just my stupid idea #tolkien #middle earth

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moonchildsaurora · 4 years

Text

The social butterfly of a Tech Genius

»»—— Crew Member #6 of Space Pirates ATEEZ ——««

all aboard The Perihelion, welcome to the co-pilot’s log system! here you’ll be able to access the crew’s profiles should you wish to read about their journeys: (no nsfw content)

[CAPTAIN] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

an underestimated intellect with huge love for the cyber world and technology

you hear him before you see him in a crowd

a Drex’un who was born and lived his life in the technology-thriving city of Vollurn up until he was invited to join Hongjoong and Seonghwa on their journey

[database file: Drex’uns are often described as demon-borne even though not all bloodlines are derived from infernal ancestry. Purely for the fact that prominent horns protude from their heads, a prehensile tail that’s used for grabbing things and will coil around their legs when upset/nervous, sharp canines and eye colours that cover the entire sclera. Depending on bloodline, some Drex’uns have elemental abilities]

Mingi isn’t sure about his bloodline as he never knew his parents, though his intelligence goes far beyond that of an average being’s. Not only does he process knowledge extremely fast, his memory is remarkable; able to recall even the tiniest details and his ability to analyse/break codes allows him to have free reign in the cyber networks

his teal-coloured horns and tail have onyx gradient tips, adorned with a few gold jewellery (his actual ears are also pierced with hoops) to complement his molten gold eyes

making heads turn, be it for his energetic presence or fashionable attire; “just because I grew up on the streets doesn’t mean I have no pride for my looks”

learnt to be resourceful and street-smart at a young age, knows all the short cuts and side alleys of the city like the back of his hand (he’s had a lot of time to wander around). Also found out that he had a knack for by-passing security systems whenever he needed shelter for the night

frequents the ‘Merripalace Arcade’ where it’s both an underground hangout for tech whizzes and the cyber battlegrounds for competitive players. The first visit gave him a taste of a different kind of freedom and an introduction to the world of hacking. It’s probably one of the few places he’s felt a part of a community; no judgement of your species nor your background but rather your digital reputation is more valued and the sort of technological talents you bring to the network

if there’s one thing Mingi is a natural at it’s socialising, he could walk into a club alone and come back out later with a new social circle if he so wishes

“ok who DON’T you know here?”

“just look at that face, how can you say no to him?” – Mingi is walking proof that Drex’uns can pull off the puppy-dog face and get away with it

he was gifted a second-hand mirage drive by Einux, a Nagzoid [database file: a reptilian humanoid being with serpent ancestry so they tend to have more snake-like features] who became a shot-term mentor figure after Mingi unintentionally helped crack a system code for a database Einux was commissioned to work on (because Mingi thought that guy was just really bad at math on first glance)

[database file: a mirage drive is pretty much a miniature tablet with a hologram touch-screen and every tech whizz would protect theirs with their lives; especially when were layers of secret activities and programs stored into it]

“you remembered to wipe clean the data trail and replace the originals with the dud files right?”

“yeah of course...does planting a virus in the system that will cause ‘Time Warp’ to play every time they try to click open a file counts?”

“Mingi, I…….”

Einux introduced Mingi to his network of contacts and helped set him up with his first commission, safe to say Mingi was at a loss for words when he got his first pay up front (and that was just the deposit)

by the time Yunho had come across Mingi at the Tech Institute, he had been in the cyber scene for 4+ years already and never once had to deal with someone catching him in the act

Mingi.exe has stopped working

he’s met a couple of Sheirzois before but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t lowkey checking out the blue-haired giant whilst panicking on the inside, he’d argue there’s always time to appreciate beauty

two options popped into his mind then and there; either he bribed his way out (as his mentor taught him) or he attempted to maybe throw some punches and then make a getaway

(expectation) looks like he’s intimidating & can fight vs. (reality) he’d probably cry if he hit someone & is just a soft boy all-round

extra trivia: ironically for an infernal being, Mingi doesn’t deal well with anything supernatural/ghosts-related. Once Woo and Yeosang pranked him, Yunho helped a little but he doesn’t need to know, and convinced him that the basement storage hanger was haunted after totems started appearing in odd places along with ominous noises. Mingi was so ready to abandon ship before Hongjoong did damage control & Jongho promised he’d fight all the ghosts for him

was already metaphorically weeping at the thought of having to empty his money pouch but turned out that Otis (his multi-coding bot) had somehow manage to win the Sheirzoi over along with an invite to drinks

“I’ve got many questions for you regarding your efficiently adorable bot”

“…and I to you as well, BUT first do you have a name? And secondly have you been to ‘Le Apollon’? Coz if not they make some really mean Northern Drops there!”

Yunho turned out to be one of the most chilled individual Mingi has met and he didn’t mind the other’s enthusiastic discussions about all technological inventions, and was even just as enthusiastic to share with Yunho about his own passion for cyber tech

one too many drinks later Mingi was accidentally spilling secrets he definitely wasn’t meant to and even ended up dancing on the table at some point, all while Yunho hyped his new friend up on the side

was forever grateful that Yunho never ratted him out to the authorities and consider him shook for the 2nd time in that day when he was offered a roof over his head, a more permanent one too

“do you want to be the big spoon, or is it my turn? We can rotate!”

thus the bromance of all bromances was born

living with Yunho not only meant Mingi would wake up to good vibes, but more than often would wake up to either the screeching of the smoke alarm or “HOLY SMOKES WHERE ARE THE WATER PODS? DID WE RUN OUT OF THEM? AGAIN?!”

putting out accidental fires became second nature to Mingi, initially he’d aggressively fret over Yunho but now he’s come to accept such is the life of a chaotic bright inventor and this is fine

in fact when Hongjoong and Seonghwa came across their humble abode (thanks to Yunho’s cleaning bot) it was an iconic first meeting over smoke. Yunho did most of the talking when Hongjoong pitched his desire to recruit a crew for space voyage, Mingi too busy sitting there staring at the two new-comers with shooting stars in his eyes and hearing about the prospects of an adventure. Within that day the crew had gain 2 more members, because Mingi and Yunho are a combo package deal

“oh has the system be glitching? If you don’t mind, would you like me to have a look at it?”

Hongjoong did a happy dance on the spot knowing that not only did he now have a talented inventor on his ship but also a gifted tech genius, he put Mingi in charge of managing the mainframe systems along with intel collecting this decision that Hongjoong would later semi-regret because (at times) the word “self-control” doesn’t seem to exist in Mingi’s vocab

Seonghwa adopted him and Yunho pretty easily and space mum’s cooking is Mingi’s fave, occasionally using his puppy-dog face he’s perfected over the years to his advantage in gaining extra midnight snacks (being everyone’s baby, no one’s really immune to this)

“Hwa you’re supposed to be the one disciplining the kids!”

Mingi and Yunho were known to be the chaotic fun duo, but with Wooyoung is just chaotic – not to mention he got his Yunhogizer confiscated by Hongjoong for almost a week after, “I thought we were all comparing assets, Wooyoung sent his to the group chat so I figured this was some kind of crew bonding”

also was one half of the reason that the ‘whatever happens at the Tav/clubs, stays at the Tav/clubs’ rule got implemented and one-night sexytimes were banned aboard The Perihelion after Jongho witnessed a random still semi-nude humanoid trying to sneak out of Mingi’s room without being noticed (Hwa went on parent-mode and panicked yell whilst covering Jongho’s eyes)

Jongho avoided Mingi (out of sheer embarrassment) for a few days and that was pretty devastating, considering how close the two became in their friendship that Mingi was one of the very few people in the crew whom Jongho was openly clingy with at times

no one can argue about Mingi’s loyalty to his crew/new family, and under his care-free flamboyant exterior he’s a genuine listener and will not hesitate to offer his shoulder for his family to lean on whenever they need it

recently he’s created new software to enhance Seonghwa’s cybernetic lenses (as a birthday gift) that’d allow him to see clearly miles ahead, in the dark and lock-on tracking function. What Mingi failed to let Hwa know was that he still hasn’t disconnected the sync link to his mirage drive and therefore if, for example, an image was sent through it’d appear in the other user’s field of vision

“wait for it, wait”

“what exactly are we waiting for Mingi? And why are you giggling over a screaming pink…starfish?” (that’s Patrick Star by the way)

seconds later there was a clamouring from the bathroom, the solid sound of someone falling before, “MINGI!”

“that my good lads, is what we were wa-oh whoops gotta go!”

(moodboard made with love, by @s1ardusk ♡)

#ateez headcanons #atzinc #atinyforatiny #aurorateeznet #ateez scenarios #pirate ateez #pirate ateez au #ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez blurbs #song mingi #ateez mingi #ateez writing #ateez fic #Perihelion Crew #pyx writes

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7deadlycinderellas · 4 years

Text

if the summer of our lives, ch35

AO3 link

The returns to Winterfell trickle back in slowly.

Daenerys sticks around long enough to recoup her troops from White Harbour. Those who remain are camped outside Winterfell, at their protection. There aren’t many, as many of the dead hordes had come southeast towards White Harbour upon breaking the defensive line at Winterfell.

It’s far too long before they learn that the dead at White Harbour included both Theon and Yara, along with many of the Ironborn.

Robb had given his condolences, barely holding back tears at the loss of his childhood friend. By his side, Arya had quietly asked,

“Do you think he fought bravely?”

Daenerys had been taken aback,

“I can’t say I knew him well,” she starts, mind sorting through her mess of memories, old and new. “But I knew he fought shoulder to shoulder with the others, that he and his sister both looked battle straight in the eye.”

Arya squeezes Robb’s remaining elbow, trying to reassure him. She had never quite come around to Theon the way that Sansa had, but she knows how hard it could be to lose someone who you may have never gotten to tell what they meant to you.

Val has taken to leading hunting parties, in hopes of finding game enough to feed those within the walls still, so she sometimes stays by Robb’s side in her place. It’s sort of working. Arya thinks on Theon, broken down, who gave his life for Bran, given his life again for the north. Another thread of regret, that they hadn’t managed to save him, or to give him his due.

“He will be remembered,” she assures Robb.

“The Iron Islands will be in a difficult spot now,” he muses, then asks, “I don’t suppose there’s been any word from their uncle Euron? Our intelligence told us he had also been aiming to take the islands himself.”

Daenerys had smirked quietly to herself.

“We have not received word. The Islands supported me on this venture, they will support me when I retake the Iron Throne. It would be poor form for me to forget them, it would be even poorer form for them to immediately rebel, and go back to their reaving ways against both my express wishes, and Yara’s command.”

Arya leaves them while they discuss Daenerys going north again to lead the refugees home from Bear Island. In a corner of the Great Hall, she writes out letters to the Vale and the Riverlands, telling them that it is safe for those who have taken shelter to return north.

She stays inside often, because it is quiet, because it allows her to adjust to her unbalanced ears. Outside among the bustle and the rebuilding, she finds herself often fighting the urge to spin, to find the whisper, to chase what seems just out of reach.

At least at night, on a straw mattress in part of the repaired Great Keep, there is peace. Gendry has always been willing to whisper softly to her, whatever words she needed, and no more.

Sleep comes easily for Gendry because during the day he doesn’t stop. Some days he works in the forge, providing nails and tools and such out of what repurposed iron he is able to get his hands on. There’s not enough.

But even when he’s not, there’s carts to push and stone to carry. His muscles are used to their limit, and here, as he sees new growth begin in the scar of Winterfell, he feels his low birth has been put to good use. He’s always worked for his living, and now his work is for the living of others.

Those who remain too, must live for the living of others.

Robb spends his time supervising the rebuilding and sending and receiving riders from several of the other keeps who had held the line, from Hornwood and Torren’s Square and Cerwyn. Hornwood had taken the worst casualties, but that ended up fortuitous. They had food stores still to help feed the other survivors.

Jon helps where he can, often with his hands. He finds another role too. Those within Winterfell have suffered losses as well.

One day, he finds Ygritte in the Godswood with Johnna. The girl is nearly grown now, but still sobbing like a child.

“Wounds took her mother night before last,” Ygritte tells him.

Jon sits beside them carefully.

“Was your sister sent to Bear Island?” he asks the girl.

She nods.

“Then she’s as safe as she could be,” Ygritte insists, “Safe as she could hope for in this world.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to tell her this,” Johnna weeps.

Jon meets Ygritte’s eye, and realizes words aren’t needed right now. Jon knows there isn’t a correct way for a child to have to tell another about the death of a parent. He reaches an arm across Johnna’s back and is quiet, letting her cry.

Her tears were not wasted. Bear Island had fought hard and long. Because most of the refugees there had been women and children, they were ill-equipped for any sort of battle, but especially the one that came towards them across the water.

When Daenerys had come to lead them back, she had found them attempting a funeral pyre for those who had fallen. The water made it difficult to light, but it turned out dragon fire worked fine.

Only the youngest Mormont daughter remains, though bruised and battered, standing among the other survivors.

“We had to do what we could,” she tells, shivering in the cold, “To keep the others safe. I was pinned down at one point, cornered, I would have died if not for Hodor.”

Daenerys turns her gaze and considers the large man behind Lyanna. He looked as though he could have giant’s blood in him, but seemed as shy as a child when he ducked his head to her, with a respectful “Hodor.”

“I saw him hoist her straight onto his shoulders,” Osha tells, leaving out the part that it had happened when one of the dead had her down and was clawing at her gut. Osha’s wounds during the battle were great, but not life-threatening. Despite this, Daenerys doubts she will be able to make the journey back to Winterfell without them becoming life-threatening. “She fought like a beast from her perch, and he somehow still kept both his arms free.”

“It’s probably because of Hodor that we didn’t lose any of the children,” Gilly comments. She’s helping stitch up a nasty cut across Henneh’s forehead. Her and Sam had made it, Henneh too. Nella, Norea and Rhea hadn’t been so lucky.

“Once everyone can gather, I can lead you back to Winterfell,” Daenerys assures them.

“I shall stay here,” Lyanna insists, “This is my home, and some of my people will still need protection here. Tell my sisters- if I still have any- tell them I will hold the island down as well as I can until they return.”

She swallows roughly. She doesn’t want to think that it might just be her.

Osha sits up best she can, one arm bracing as well as she can with the bandages around her middle.

“If you will have me, Little Bear, I think I will stay here.”

Lyanna smiles, softly, with a hint of uncertainty behind her eyes.

“Bear Island is home to some of the greatest fighters in Westeros. I think you have proven yourself more than worthy.”

It’s early the next morning when Daenerys hovers in the sky long enough for the refugees to board their boats and follow her lead.

The day the boats leave Bear Island, Jojen wakes from a vision of it. In the Neck, the rain has continued, swelling the bogs and streams. Some days it is freezing, other days tranquil.

“If they were leaving, with the Dragon Queen’s lead, it must be safe for us to return as well,” Sansa says firmly.

Meera nods,

“I’ll send word for everyone to return here as soon as they can. Once we have everyone, we’ll start for the Kingsroad.”

It’s strange, Sansa thinks, seeing the northern refugees emerging from the swamp, like cats from among the waters and reeds. So out of place, yet having seamlessly blended in.

Eventually, the whole band is back together, though the lost, seeking eyes and mutters continue. Sansa hears many of the men speaking of their visions and sight, and tries not to dwell on it.

She sees Meera hug her father, and assure him that they will be back once everything has worked out. Sansa feels a little piece of her heart break when she remembers this means that Bran will be leaving Winterfell again too.

The rain, however, means that travel north is more difficult than it had been coming south. Bran eventually gives up, and rides on one of the few horses they have, carrying Arra wrapped up in his coat, after having had his cane sink and cause him to slip in the mud one too many times.

“Never thought I’d wish to travel in the snow,” Meera admits, coming up beside Sansa, where she’s walking behind Bran’s horse. “At least snow doesn’t get things soaked through quite as fast.”

“If it’s the fluffy snow at least,” Sansa agrees, “Not the heavy slush we had for a while.”

They walk in silence for a bit, while Meera watches Bran and Arra ride.

“I still can’t believe it sometimes,” she admits, “Sometimes when I’m holding her, I’m like ‘who are you, and why am I being trusted to take care of you?’”

Sansa chuckles.

“The way mother always talked, I think lots of new mothers feel that way.”

Her smile falters.

“I do understand though. This is...way past the point where I feel like I have any sort of handle on anything. Past this, this is the unknown.”

And I’m completely terrified of the unknown, she doesn’t say. Eyes moving to each member of their party individually, she would feel almost ungrateful to speak. They’re all facing an unknown future.

They’ve sped up their walk, and are now alongside the horse.

“It’s strange to think most of us are technically pushing thirty,” Bran comments. Arra’s sleeping, snoring softly against his chest. She’s been easy, too easy sometimes he thinks. She sleeps through the night now and is bright and alert when awake. He doesn’t want to get used to it. He wishes they didn’t have to travel with her so young, Meera especially has been fretting about the swamp air possibly making her sick.

Sansa turns around so she can see where Jojen and Shireen are walking with some of the other refugees. One of them is talking animatedly, and Shireen appears to be hanging on every word.

“And even those of us who aren’t,” she comments, “May have lived more in this life than we could have even dreamed of in the last.”

By the time Winterfell is in sight, the rain has turned again to snow, though it’s lighter, flurries, and some days even are clear.

It’s reassuring, especially when Sansa notices that the skyline of Winterfell has changed. She hears the murmurings among the others in the group as well, of what has become of their home.

Some of the walls are crumbled, black with burns. She can just make out the Broken Tower, or what used to be. It’s name is even more appropriate now.

They don’t even have to call out. The drawbridge is open. People mill around inside and outside the walls, moving stone and other things. Sansa tries not to think that some of those things could be bodies.

When they approach, there is a hush, and several people run off. The group stands at the gates, unsure of themselves, or where they should go.

One of the Free Folk eventually points them to the Great Hall.

“Wounded are there, and the people who can help sort you out.”

With everyone milling around her, Sansa’s not sure who she even expects to greet them. Despite this, her heart lifts when Jon runs out in front, throwing his arms around her.

“We were so worried,” he tells her, hugging Sansa and then Bran, and moving about to try and direct the others to where there are blankets and rations. She watches his eyes bug out a bit at Bran holding Arra, and Sans feels so guilty breaking his joy.

“Who did we lose?” she asks him, turning apprehensive.

“About half of our forces here,” Jon starts, and then pauses, “Benjen. Theon and Yara both, and quite a lot of the Iron Born who supported Daenarys.”

That could be a problem, Sansa thinks, but right now her mind is overwhelmed by grief about Theon.

“And those of us who made it aren’t necessarily in one piece,” Jon continues, though he is interrupted by a burst of noise.

Arya has rushed out to join them, and she is right now standing with Bran and Meera and fussing over baby Arra. She’s picked her up and his holding her over her face, and Sansa can just hear her say in Meera’s direction, ‘you lived my worst nightmare’.

“Arya’s left ear,” Jon continues, “Robb’s left arm. Lots of fingers and toes to frostbite-”

“Jamie Lannister’s right eye,” Arya interjects. She hugs Sansa so hard she nearly topples. “Make sure to talk into my right ear,” and Sansa doesn’t even get a moment to mourn for her.

Both Arya and Jon hold still for a moment, before quietly telling Sansa and Bran.

“Father’s alive, but he’s in bad shape. Maester Luwin’s not sure how long he has.”

Sansa’s stomach sinks, but not as far as it perhaps should. She puts on her face,

“Lets go see him then.”

As the group that has formed follows Jon, Bran asks,

“Has the group from Bear Island made it back yet?”

“Just a day before you,” Jon confirms, not needing to bother asking how he knew, “Daenarys has left again.”

“Where is she headed now?”

“To hopefully pull off a really stupid plan to make everyone in the South listen when she goes to take the throne.”

Sansa feels alarm bells go off in her mind, but doesn’t dwell.

The Great Hall is again being used for meals, and for directing and organizing. One part is still partitioned off, however, for Maester Luwin to help the remaining wounded, as best he can.

Seeing Ned in his weakened state is harder than Sansa could have expected though. His chest is bound with bandages under his shirt, and sometimes he stills, and breathes deep, as though the very smallest movements pain him. Jon leaves her and Bran alone to talk to him, and they sit on either of his sides, while he tries to look over reports of the supplies they still have.

Bran gently passes over Arra, with a sheepish smile, a faint blush, and,

“Meet your first grandchild.”

Sansa spares a smirk.

“I think I should feel slighted that I didn’t even hear word of your marriage,” Ned tells him, and Sansa sees Bran blush.

“It wasn’t exactly the best time.”

Ned marvels all the same. After a few moments, Bran continues.

“Have we sent ravens to Riverrun and everywhere else refugees were sent?”

Ned voice turns grave.

“Yes, but I fear them returning so soon. My numbers here say we should have sufficient rations, especially if spring is truly coming. But I don’t know if we can provide shelter for everyone, and I can’t even fathom how many years it will take for repairs to complete. We’ve lost so many men and horses, and I don’t know how we can get more raw materials…”

“We’ll have to get to work then,” Sansa insists, taking some of the papers and beginning to look them over, “We’ll start organizing who among the other noble houses remain, and have them begin returning and reopening their keeps-”

Her words are interrupted by Bran’s hand on her shoulder.

“Not tonight, Sansa,” he insists, “Lets eat, and rest. There will still be work in the morning.”

Ned agrees, vehemently. Then he begins to cough, and Maester Luwin, who had previously been remaining away for their privacy, comes in to tend to him.

There are no resources for a feast, of course, but that evening, everyone gathers around one of the blankets in the Great Hall, and share rations and stories.

Lots of people come around to see the baby, it having been so long since any of them have seen one, and Sansa counts down faces. When Arya takes a second turn, she passes her to a somewhat terrified looking Gendry. Gilly, and one of her sisters, the little one, come by with Sam to meet her too. Only one sister, Sansa notes. Shireen and Jojen get up to join them when they move on to sit with the other children who have returned from Bear Island. Hodor sneaks up behind the group, and lifts up Bran in a great hug. Robb and Val eventually make their way over, and Sansa tries not to smirk too heavily at Robb’s teasing. It helps distract her from wincing whenever she sees where his arm should be.

She sees Gendry needling Meera about something, that results in her swatting him. She sees Shireen sneak off from the hall and then return.

“I wanted to return the book I took,” she confesses, “At least much of the library is intact. It would be a shame for so much knowledge to be lost.”

The first part of her thought seems almost childish, but Sansa understands, and the last part troubles her.

“I wonder if anyone will remember the truth of what happened here?”

“That’s one of the reasons I want to write everything down so bad. I wish doing so didn’t just mean it might languish on a shelf somewhere at the Citadel...if I’m lucky enough to get it there...but the more we do, the more people we tell the truth, the better it will be, the less likely the story will die out.”

Sansa’s smile turns grim.

“I used to put far too much stock in stories. Too often I discovered they were so far from reality they might as well not be considered true at all. “

“That’s why you write them,” Shireen insists, “Write them, instead of letting them spread by word. This is one of the reasons I think the world would be so much better if more people could read and write.”

It’s a lovely thought, Sansa thinks, though admittedly it’s a hard one to imagine being implemented.

Across from her, Ygritte quietly rocks Arra, while Arya listens as Jon explains to her what Daenarys’s current plan is.

“She wants to hunt down and catch one of the remaining wights. She thinks that if she can bring it with he to King’s Landing, then Tywin and Joffrey will pay more attention to her and her stories.”

Arya snorts, loudly. Sansa covers her face in her hands.

“Please tell me I didn’t come up with this same plan before?” Jon asks, rolling his eyes while Ygritte snickers by his side.

Sansa shakes her head, a sardonic smile rising on her face.

“Wasn’t your plan before, at least,” she says, her heart twisting at the memory of when she had been told exactly who’s plan that was. It was a stupid, near suicidal plan then. At least now it seems to just be stupid.

Ygritte leaves first, as she’s on the first watch of the night. Arya and Gendry depart to where they’ve been sleeping, and Jon leads the rest of them to where sleeping quarters have been set up, in the Great Keep.

“Most of your old rooms are still here,” he tells, “But we’ve had to adjust to having so many more people. Parts of the guest house was destroyed, and we have to keep some who are still wounded on the ground floors.”

Sansa thinks sleep, any sleep, on a straw mattress or a featherbed either, sounds divine now. And he’s not wrong, there are people sleeping everywhere, separated by hanging sheets if they’re lucky.

Sleep doesn’t come easy though. Even in the comfortable bed, Sansa finds herself tossing and turning throughout the night.

At dawn, she gets up, and puts on her boots and a heavy cloak over her nightdress, and wanders a bit. She watches the late night watch coming in, and the early morning workers moving in the same circles she is, in the pale blue frozen air.

On one of the archer’s perches, she finds Bran by himself.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks. She nods.

“Meera’s still out like a light. I don’t think either of us expected anyone here to be so taken by having a baby around.”

“New life,” Sansa muses, “After they’ve seen nothing but death for near on a year. You’ll never hurt for a child minder,” Sansa agrees. She quiets a bit, contemplating the sunrise.

“So what are you up here for?” she asks.

“I’m calling all my ravens home,” is Bran’s response. Sansa nods

“I suppose you don’t really need them patrolling the land anymore.”

“I’d like to send one or two to Riverrun, to assure Mother and the others that it’s safe. The rest I want to call home.”

Home, Sansa thinks. They still call Winterfell home, even she doesn’t think it will remain for many of them.

#game of thrones #gendrya #time travel fix it #fic

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imagine-loki · 5 years

Text

Eating Crow

Title: Eating Crow

Rating: M

Author: ckoehlrbm

Prompt: Imagine Loki faking his death in order to go undercover.

Chapter: 1/? (Four intended chapters, but we all know what they say about intentions.)

Note: Please be kind. This is my first multi-chapter Loki fic. I have submitted several imagines and some one-shots, but fingers crossed our Emerald King will behave just slightly for me while writing this!

Chapter One: Breaking

Air wasn’t supposed to taste like it burned, but this did. It prickled at the skin as she reached out desperately, trying to stop the inevitable.

She had once watched a quarter balance on its side at the entrance to a sewer. Spinning and tantalizing, she knew instinctively she had no hope of catching the quarter, even at her small size. She was seven and closer to the ground than the grown man who had dropped the coin, but as it wobbled ever so carefully, she knew it would fall.

Even as she reached out to Loki now, she knew he would fall. She wasn’t tall enough to stretch to reach him, even as she screamed for him to hold on. Give her one more moment. She could almost brush her fingers against his. Don’t fall. Please don’t fall. She was almost there….

The snap of her spine widened her eyes as she heard it. She tried still to reach but she could no longer see Loki’s fingers….

Alys woke with a scream of “NO! LOKI!” and tried to bolt upright, forgetting for a moment that she no longer had that ability. It was lost to her as much as her legs were lost to her. She felt cold enter her heart again and the desire to weep was present, but the soul-deep need to cry was absent. It had been for a long while now. She had learned a valuable lesson.

You could love someone so hard that their absence rendered your soul into a pile of shreds and every breath hurt…. But you could live with that hurt.

That fateful day, a sword of one of the ancient dead had severed her spine, narrowly missing her esophagus and stomach. That hadn’t hurt so much as knowing that she had failed Loki, failed to be there the one time he truly needed her. As Hela’s troops had overrun the Bifrost, slaughtering Asgardians, she had been focused on saving him and she had failed…

And countless souls had perished for her efforts. Not that anyone was as crass as to openly blame her for the deaths that she had not prevented.

Thor had been her companion during her recovery, lifting her to and from bed as needed. The blond giant of a male had cradled her in those too-large, seemingly too-clumsy hands as if she were a precious bird and murmured about how he would always be around to help the sister of his heart. That surely Valhalla awaited her and the Valkyries would shake before her might.

Tony had designed her wheelchair thanks to a partnership between Stark Industries and an Israeli tech firm that permitted her to fight on her feet if she needed to. Her house was now a smart house, powered by the same tech that fuelled the Stark Industries building in Manhattan, and completely disabled friendly. Tony had sent in crews of workmen to make sure that she had every available comfort once she was discharged from the hospital.

Rhodey had been a guardian angel and punched the guy who called her a ‘rapeable freak’. Which was partially Rhodey’s fault since he had set up the date, but Alys didn’t blame him for other people’s idiocy. An ableist was going to be an ableist, an asshole would be an asshole.

Pepper… Pepper Potts was God’s own personal assistant. She managed everything, found live-in help, made sure maintenance was done, that Alys’ stipend from being ‘Avenger support staff’ wasn’t terminated when she was disabled, coordinated Alys’ medical care, arranged for interviews with world-class surgeons on the incredibly generous Stark Employee Health Plan, found a therapist for her to speak with when grief and hopelessness had spiraled Alys into a suicide attempt…. Pepper Potts deserved sainthood for the way she simply handled everything and then hugged you so tight that you almost couldn’t breathe for the feeling of being home.

Wanda had taken time to make sure she ate. There were soups, native Sokovian foods, some things that Vision had helped the young woman make. They were still frequent guests and most welcome. Wanda never made her feel helpless and Vision was careful to state that she was still Alys, even if she couldn’t walk. She didn’t need legs to use her brain and be herself.

Natasha gave her physical therapy to make sure her legs didn’t fully atrophy. Alys had not seen the point and had verbally expressed a wish to kick the Russian assassin numerous occasions when she felt pain from her legs being moved around. Natasha had been quick to tell her that even feeling pain was a good sign that perhaps there could be some recovery of movement. They had cried together the first time she moved her big toes, celebrating with ice cream and a rousing rendition of ‘Wait For It’ from the Hamilton musical. Of course, they had done that DURING the show, which the cast had not exactly appreciated until Tony had cleared up the misunderstanding. After that, Alys had a standing invite to join the show during matinees.

Steve had been a sweetheart the entire time, but never more so than the first time she had tried to get out of the tub by herself and ended up falling face first in the bathroom. She had screamed her frustration, weeping helplessly because she could not get into her wheelchair when it was RIGHT THERE! She should have been strong enough to do this SIMPLE task, but she wasn’t. Her legs were laying behind her like limp noodles.

The super soldier had entered the bathroom and blushed at her nudity before handing her a robe and helping her get situated on the edge of the tub. Then, with as much care as Thor, he lifted her, bypassed the wheelchair, and took her straight to her bedroom, sitting her at her vanity. “You know, there was a girl with polio in the apartment next to my mother’s. I would watch her and do her hair at times. I learned that women never feel quite right unless their hair is on point.” That said, he snagged her brush and began to comb out her brunette locks until they shone before braiding them deftly and tying it off with a green ribbon.

She smiled at the fond memories of her team putting the pieces of her back together. They had done what had seemed impossible at one point. She originally had not wanted to live in a world where Loki wasn’t there. They had persevered and won her over, though, and now she could not imagine anything else.

Alys rose for the day and with the help of her live-in aid, Brigid, bathed, dressed, and cooked her morning meal. There was a serenity in knowing that she wasn’t alone, that if she fell out of her chair there was someone there…. That her team was a shout away, that FRIDAY was watching out for her.

There was a knock on the door and Alys frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone…. She looked at Brigid who shrugged and went back to tending the start of the evening pot roast. Alys eyed it to make sure it was large enough for everyone they were expecting before gesturing silently to Brigid to get the other one out as well. If Banner made an appearance, they would need more food.

When the brunette opened the door, she couldn’t help but stare. This could not be happening. Not again. Not when she had worked so hard to get beyond this…

Green eyes stared at her in adoration, black hair was smoothed back and flowing loose down his back. He was bittersweet trouble like dark chocolate ice cream- delicious temptation.

Alys felt herself tremble as she gazed up at him, felt the burn of tears even as she shook her head. “No. Not this. Not this dream. Please. Sweet merciful gods, not this dream….”

“My queen, my love, what dream?”

Her breath came faster and she closed her eyes, trying to regain control. She had to remember what Dr. Finklestein said. The dreams were because of the trauma. The trauma was because she had lost him so quickly. The loss still affected her, even five years later. She needed to breathe and find her center so she could exit the dream.

“You died, Loki. That day on the Bifrost. You died, my love. I’m so sorry. I know I was supposed to try to save you, but I couldn’t. This is a dream and Dr. Finklestein says that they should not still be occurring. I need this to stop, Loki. Oh, my love... “ She was rambling, even in her own head. There was so much to tell Loki, to let him know, to affirm her love still burned…

The tears were flowing down her cheek and she could taste the salt of them. They were bitter, but she could not stop them. Her arms came around her body even as her chair moved back, away from the door. She was allowing him in, even as she screamed for Brigid.

The nurse was a tall red-head, frizzy haired, friendly, bright, and personable. “Miss Crow? Are you well?”

“Brigid, this is a dream. It has to be. It’s a dream. Wake me. I can’t wake up. Please. It’s not real. He’s not here. I know he’s not here.”

“Miss Crow, you’re hyperventilating. It does look like we have a guest. Breathe for me. Slow. An eight count, miss. In, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…. Hold, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… Again, Miss Crow.” Thus being distracted by the order to simply breathe, she listened to Brigid turn to their guest.

“And who are you to so upset Miss Crow? Do you know who she is? This is Alys Crow, hero of Asgard, personal friend to the Avengers! She has Tony Stark and King Thor on speed dial. Do we need to call them?”

Loki’s voice was darkly amused, sweet sinful velvet. “You could call my brother or the Man of Iron, but neither of them could keep me away from my queen. In fact, do call the Man of Iron. Call my brother. Both of them know I am here.”

Alys’ brain was racing. This was looking more and more like a reality. A reality where Loki lived. Where Loki publicly called her queen rather than whispering it heatedly in her ear as he commanded her body like a king. Thor and Tony both knew he was here?

How had this happened?

The answer came to her so quick that she could not bottle up the rage that flooded her body. She reached out, grabbed a Waterford vase and threw it at Loki as hard as she could. “You lying BASTARD!” she screamed out as crystals shattered around Loki. “You lied to me! TO ME?! You DARED! LIE! TO! ME!”

He was staring at her like he had never seen her before. More specifically, he was staring at her chair. The look on his face was horror and Alys felt her heart shatter even further.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1VDUlDgOqCRt5AB-mOeBSwl-NyuAWDuFzFPc7zsn3Slk/edit?usp=drivesdk

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Others #Submitted fic #submission #ckoehlrbm #eating crow

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plasticgardenicons · 5 years

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The Straight and Narrow

Louis Zoeltzky was legally drunk and in no condition to touch the tip of his nose with his fingertips when Officer Blatt pulled him over on the Belt Parkway to make this strange request. Moreover, when Officer Blatt asked him to walk a straight line, he answered that he had walked the straight and narrow his whole life and he saw no good reason why he should be making an exhibition of it now. Officer Blatt was not impressed.

Looking west, Louis noticed the Verazzano Bridge. It was a bridge that loomed in the early morning dusk like the skeleton of a great dead dinosaur. Of course, he couldn’t be sure if it really was the skeleton of a great dead dinosaur, or if it was just his mind cajoling him with the promise of something fantastic hidden beneath the raw iron and illumined bulbs. He decided to get a second opinion.

Officer Blatt, who had just reentered his vehicle and spoke into his radio something about a DWI, told Louis to “Keep his goddamned filthy mouth shut,” when Louis proposed the question. Louis was left to make his own conclusions: the bridge was actually the petrified remains of an Apatosaurus or perhaps a Diplodocus, or some other great and ancient herbivorous sauropod stuck in its watery…Officer Blatt’s egg-shaped head froze Louis in mid thought.

Something about his appearance was not all together right, as if Officer Blatt were somehow inappropriately dressed for his particular profession. Perhaps it was the bright orange hair that formed a large, poofy semi-circle around his white skull. Or maybe it was the bulbous red nose Louis had somehow overlooked before, but now, staring into the rear view mirror, was able to gaze at from time to time without Officer Blatt noticing. Eventually Louis also noticed the red painted frown over Blatt’s mouth. It was this slow accumulation of details regarding Officer Blatt’s person that encouraged him to question the reality of the whole situation. He gazed out the window. Perhaps I’m not really in the back seat of this police car. I bet I’m still at Monica’s party; sleeping in the corner of the living room, behind the ugly ceramic tiger. Maybe she’ll come and wake me up.

Monica’s beauty always depressed Louis. Looking at Monica was a sacrifice for every other part of Louis’ body that could not hold her the way his eyes did. If his eyes had hands he would have remembered her body in exquisite detail, not one curve, one hair, one line overlooked. At the party, Louis knew it wouldn’t be long before he drowned himself for want of her. Her friendly kiss on his cheek and her unsympathetic refusal to ask him into her bedroom where they would both undress and he would again be privy to a beauty the rest of the party on the patio could only dream of, the way one dreams of angels perhaps, rendered him a patch of raw and blistered skin oozing cheap rum and coke.

“Wake up, wake up!” Louis commanded himself.

Blatt was giggling to himself in the front seat.

“Wakeup, wakeup, wakeup, wakeup!”

A feeling of claustrophobia overcame Louis. He became increasingly aware of a tightness around his wrists. Perhaps this is just a hallucination. Maybe I’m not waking up because I’m already awake. He began to recall certain episodes from his childhood, when he was five or six, how he would jump from his sleep in the middle of the night and find strange figures standing over his bed. Sometimes they were green and glowing, in the shape of bowling pins, or at other times, bright and abstract shapes on the wall. He knew he couldn’t call his parents because they were always busy fighting or screaming or leaving on long walks outside because they “couldn’t take it anymore,” so he never told them. One particular incident that tripped around his head was the night he awoke to the sound of shuffling feet outside his bedroom door. When he opened it, he saw a line of clowns walking single file into his kitchen and disappearing somewhere behind the refrigerator. He touched one and they instantaneously vanished, and he was left in the dark.

Louis tapped Officer Blatt on the back of his head. Officer Blatt pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned abruptly in his seat, “if you so much as lay a pinky on me once more, I’ll take that as a threat to my personal safety and beat the living shit out of you. Do you understand me scumbag?” Louis noticed for the first time, Officer Blatt’s face in its entirety. Not only did he have a red frown painted over his mouth, but he had three blue teardrops painted under his left eye, falling behind his red globular nose.

“Louis, I invited you to this party because I wanted you to have a good time. I didn’t expect you to drink yourself into oblivion.” Monica wiped Louis’s forehead with a cool wash cloth as he sat on the cold bathroom floor beside the toilet.

“what the hell did you eat for dinner tonight anyway?” Monica asked. One more thing to love about Monica, Louis thought in his fog and haze, nothing grosses her out, “I don’t remember.”

“Louis, I think you should go lie down in the guest room.” She fixed his shirt and wiped the vomit from his chest and chin. Louis looked up at her.

“why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why do you love her?”

“Louis, I don’t think we should start this discussion up again.”

“Does she pleasure you in ways I can’t?”

“Louis, that’s enough,” Monica stopped and stared at him, her face oscillating between waves of disgust and pity.

“I thought you loved me?”

“I just cleaned the vomit from your fucking face and all over my bathroom and am carrying you to a clean bed. Is that not enough love for you, Louis? How much more fucking love do you need?”

“we could have a three-some,” Louis said half jokingly.

“go the fuck to sleep and please be gone before I wake up in the morning.” Monica flipped the switch. The room went dark. Louis could hear people laughing in the light behind Monica. Monica closed the door.

So I can be sure I’ve actually passed out in Monica’s guest bed, Louis thought. A sensation of disgust surged through his entire body. Would it have been such a terrible sin to let me sleep in her bed? His eyes rolled slowly over the handcuffs. They seemed ridiculously large and exaggerated.

The car pulled up in front of an enormous circus tent, wavering silently in the wind under the glow of gallows-like orange streetlights. The rest of the street was a desperate, whisperish darkness. The walls of the tent bulged and receded like the chest of a dormant giant. Officer Blatt opened the car door and pulled Louis from his seat. As he stepped out of the car, Louis accidentally stepped on Blatt’s large purple shoes, which immediately emitted a staccato squawk. The look Officer Blatt gave Louis terrified him, as Officer Blatt shoved him towards the tent. The closer Louis got to the tent the more convinced he became that he would wake up at any minute. An unpolished oak desk stretched the entire length of the tent, which Louis approximated to be at least 200 feet. At the very end of the desk was an empty folding chair and a dimly lit desk lamp.

“Wait here,” Officer Blatt said. “Officer Chicopaulo is out feeding the elephants.”

Louis heard the squawking of Blatt’s shoes. He heard the door of the police car slam shut. The sound of the engine diminishing in the distance. Until there was no sound in the dark but Louis, quietly weeping.

#prose #spilled words #spilled ink #spilled stories #trying something new

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summerseachild · 5 years

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Because I am a glutton for punishment, I rewatched season 3.

The story so far: For those of you following along, I’ve been gearing up for watching the GoT I haven’t seen (the back half of season 5 and beyond) by rewatching the stuff I HAVE seen. It’s been... an experience. I’m coping with my fury by squeeing over the things I loved and foaming at the mouth over the things I hated.

The finale aired between my season 2 and 3 rewatch, and I am full of snark, but everything is also hilarious.

3x01

1. GHOST IS THE GOODEST BOY. Also everyone BE NICER TO SAM. Every time I see Kit and Rose together on screen I go, “Awww they’re gonna be married.” So happy this show brought them together.

2. Ciarán Hinds as Mande Rayder was SUCH epic good casting. I want to watch all of Rome now.

3. Davos is a salty old cat with nine lives and I was SO happy to see him alive. And then he RISKS ONE OF THEM being loyal to Stannis. That’s some Ned Stark levels of honor.

4. Michael McElhatton’s voice is so amazingly creepy I love and hate it all at the same time.

5. That first scene we get with Tyrion and Tywin is A LOT. Tyrion just wants a little bit of recognition and it’s SO SAD. (Also how did Tywin have the lions put up in his office so soon? SO EXTRA.) And wtf is up with Tywin intimating that Tyrion might be a bastard? So glad they dropped that. Who ended up Lord of Casterly Rock though? DOes AnYoNE EveN CaRE?

6. Sansa and Shae playing the game with the ships is... so cute. We overly imaginative people have all had that friend like Shae who’s like WHAT IS THE POINT OF PRETENDING.

7. Ok teenage Drogon cooking his food in midair before eating it was pretty cool.

8. Is that the Stranger on the wall of the building where Margaery talks to the orphans? In the middle of the seven pointed star? It looks CREEPY.

9. The epic Queen-off between Margaery and Cersei IS ON. (For the record Cersei’s armor dress is FANTASTIC.) Also, Jack Gleeson saying “charitable” like it’s a word in a foreign language he’s never heard before is GREAT.

10. You can see the seeds of Missandei being a fantastic diplomat for Queen Daenerys. :( Also, I wonder if Jorah knows she speaks Valyrian as he watched all of this unfold...

3x02

1. I wonder if what Talisa says about how Westerosi are viewed across the narrow sea, as barbarians who smell, is accurate. It makes sense...

2. OH SHIT THEON GETTING TORTURED IS IN THIS EPISODE I WAS NOT READY

3. Latest on a List of insults Brienne puts up with from Jaime: “giant towheaded plank.” He is such a shit. And the way he SWITCHES on a dime from so obviously baiting her to being DEAD serious with the “we don’t get to choose who we love” line... so very him.

4. Sansa and the Tyrells! Those gardens are SO incredibly pretty, and Diana Rigg is SO GOOD as Olenna. May I have half her wit when I’m her age. Getting info out of Sansa on Joffrey was SMART.

5. I love that we get a sense that there are different cultures and languages North of the Wall.

6. HOLY SHIT HI MACKENZIE CROOK I FORGOT YOU WERE IN THIS YOU ADORABLE STRING BEAN.

7. Reeeeeds! Jojen and Mira were so exciting when we first met them...

8. BROTHERHOOOOOD Without Banners SO COOL. And underused.

9. Jaime and Brienne are AT A BRIDGE and NOTHING IS OK enjoy the hand while you have it ,Jaime my love.

3x03

1. Lannister family musical chairs is SO GREAT and Tyrion and Cersei have SUCH BITCHY FACES AT EACH OTHER.

2. They tell Chuck Norris jokes about Brynden the Blackfish, don’t they.

3. Stannis: Men have been trying to kill me for years. Me: Well maybe they need to send a WOMAN TO DO IT. (yeeeeaaaaah Brienne)

4. Dany is a woman with a plan and watching Jorah and Ser Barristan freak out about her possibly giving up one of her dragons is kind of funny.

5. I had forgotten how COMMITTED Ramsay is to his “helping Theon” ruse.” Fuuuuuck.

6. Jaime losing his hand DOES NOT GET ANY EASIER TO WATCH.

3x04

1. Jaime Lannister and the No Good Very Bad Deathwish huuuurts meee. It’s so good Brienne was around.

2. Varys and the sorcerer in a box.... SO CREEPY. Do we ever get resolution on that?? Anyway it made me flat out terrified of the implacability of Varys’ revenge at the time, and Conleth Hill PLAYS IT.

3. The Sept is SO PRETTY way to go CGI folks. That whole scene is just GORGEOUS with the light framing Margaery and Joffrey and Cersei moving in and out of shadow...

4. Theon’s “all he had to do was be” re: Robb hit me RIGHT IN THE FEELS also wow show Theon was really Gay For Robb and you will not convince me otherwise. (Watching him pour his heart out to Ramsay makes me physically ill... whYyYYy am I sober...)

5. I still maintain that show Brienne is WAAAAAY meaner than book Brienne about Jaime’s “leave me alone I’m dying” phase in ways that are really out of character and I HATE IT. Also losing a HAND is not “a little bit of misfortune.” And SHE WOULD UNDERSTAND THAT.

6. Cersei being like “I’ve been listening more than your sons” to Tywin. And Tywin being an ASSHOLE in response instead of FUCKING TELLING HER HOW TO DO BETTER with Joffrey makes me so angry.

7. “If Robb Stark falls Sansa Stark is the key to the North” YOU DON’T SAY VARYS

8. I am... sadder than I remember being about Jeor Mormont dying.

9. I. Like. Anguy. What HAPPENED to him? Also Beric is... intense, but I love him. (And Thoros was IN THE KEEP the day the baby Targaryens died?)

10. And ARYA GETTING TO TELL THE TRUTH ABOUT MYCAH TO ADULTS WHO LISTEN YES GOOD.

11. Dany hands that Dragon over COOL AS A CUCUMBER WHAT A QUEEN and theN the reveal that she SPEAKS FLUENT VALYRIAN AND DRACARYS AND I THINK I LOVE HER EVEN MORE OUT OF SPITE THIS TIME

3x05

1. Sandor Clegane trying to CHOP HIS OWN WOODEN SHIELD OFF HIS ARM because it’s on fire... wow. That whole scene is IMPRESSIVE. That was a fight that was TRIGGERY AS FUCK for him with all the fire and he still came out on top.

2. This is the episode where Jon and Jaime both get baths! Jon’s was a lot more fun. He got to have sex first. Jaime’s is preceded by being like “take any more of my arm than you have to and die” to Qyburn and a lot of screaming.

3. I CAN BE YOUR FAMILY ALSHAKDHSAG I AM SO ANGRY ARYA AND GENDRY DON’T END UP IN THE SAME PLACE. IT DIDN’T HAVE TO BE SCHMOOPY IT JUST NEEDED TO BE TOGETHER.

4. Every time I see Catelyn looking empty and far away in these scenes I see the Lady Stoneheart that could have been.

5. ROBB DON’T TRY TO BE YOUR DAD LISTEN TO YOUR MOM AND WIFE AND UNCLE. UGH RICHARD’S ACTING IN THAT EXECUTION SCENE THOUGH IT HURTS ME.

6. Beric Dondarion’s voice is amazing. I’m noticing voices more this time around...

7. Shireen Baratheon! What a precious little Princess! Her friendship with Davos is the best thing ever and SHE DESERVED BETTER.

8. Jaime and Brienne in the bath is funny when Jaime’s a shit until it gets very very serious and everything hurts and both of them are better actors than this show deserved. Jaime remembering URGING AERYS TO SURRENDER PEACEFULLY MAKES WHAT HAPPENS IN THE END HURT. He... hasn’t told that story to many people in its entirety and aaaaahhhh my feelings and him telling Brienne MY NAME IS JAIME I CANNOT WITH THEM.

9. Grey Worm is so handsome, and the more I see of Jacob Anderson in the behind the scenes stuff the more awesome he gets.

10. Ugh Cersei my love don’t be so smug about Tyrion and Sansa (Also Tyrion BRINGING UP TYSHA HOLY SHIT I FORGOT) Cersei and Tyrion both look so miserable at the end of that scene I just want to FUCKING THROTTLE TYWIN. Which is how I felt in the books here so KUDOS TO ALL INVOLVED.

3x06

1. I LOVE that we get to hear the Faith of the Seven’s version of “Jesus loves me” and I love that it’s Sam who sings it.

2. Meera holding Jojen while he has his vision/seizure like she’s done it a thousand times before... so sweet. I love that taking care of those who need it is just... part of who she is, and we need more people who are caring AND badass.

3. I forgot that Arya got an archery lesson from Anguy and I love it.

4. Melisandre being like WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU RAISED BERIC SIX TIMES to Thoros is great. Who knows what any of that means now but in the moment wow. Also WTF I FORGOT THEY GAVE GENDRY TO MELISANDRE

5. Ygritte asking Jon if he’s staring at her ass while climbing is so great. Way to know how good you look, girl!

6. Everyone at Riverrun: GROW UP EDMURE.

7. Jaime Being like BRIENNE DO NOT STAB BOLTON I GOT THIS = friendship goals

8. Cersei and Tyrion talking about their impending miserable marriages and not being entirely awful to each other gives me a bit of joy even as I weep for all of them.

9. I laughed for a long time at Varys line calling the Iron Throne “The Lysa Arryn of chairs.”

10. That last shot of Jon and Ygritte kissing is SO PRETTY. Everything at the top of the wall is, really.

3x07: GET BEHIND ME WENCH DON’T YOU SEE THE BEAR

1. Oh GRRM wrote this one. Cool.

2. Brynden Tully calling Walder Frey a wet shit is delightful. I love him so.

3. Do we ever find out if Talisa was telling the truth about writing to her mother? Or any sort of mention of her again since she’s nobility in Volantis and it might be a thing that she got murdered? No?

4. TORMUND TALKING ABOUT FOREPLAY IS HYSTERICAL HE IS THE BOYFRIEND BRIENNE DESERVES

5. Protective Dragons are Protective

6. Please TAKE OUR SHIP AND OUR GOLD AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF ESSOS: the Yunkai emissary, basically.

7. Poor Gendry. What a way to find out your dad was King Robert... Melisandre has a flair for the dramatic.

8. Jaime is bad at goodbyes especially when Brienne called him Ser Jaime instead of Kingslayer.

9. Ygritte threatening to blacken Jon’s eye if he tears her hypothetical silk dress.. THIS is how you write a badass girl who also likes pretty things.

10. Jaime jumping into that ring and continuing to throw his influence around for Brienne... yes good. He’s lucky that bear didn’t get his FOOT TOO though. And that last “Sorry about the Sapphires” to Locke as he’s leaving.... he just can’t help himself he HAS TO POKE PEOPLE VERBALLY EVEN WHEN IT’S DANGEROUS.

3x08: the One with the Other Other Wedding

1. Travels with Sandor and Arya is such a good show.

2. Davos trying to read is SO CUTE. And Stannis coming to Davos for advice and free him says a lot about a Stannis’ character at this point in the show.

3. Hey! It’s the first Daario!

4. Tyrion tried so hard to be kind. I’m glad he and Sansa seem to end on good terms.

5. Cersei being like “I see how you are trying to be my friend and I want NONE OF IT” to Margaery and then telling the story of house Reyne is a power move.

6. Joffrey moving Tyrion’s step stool at the wedding was a DICK MOVE but I love the look Tywin gives people who are laughing. (And Tyrion And Sansa making the best of a bad situation and Sansa weakly smiling at him when he makes the the joke about the wine before the ceremony is sweet)

7. NOBODY CARES WHAT YOUR FATHER ONCE TOLD YOU YES CERSEI MY QUEEN 👑

8. Tyrion pretending to be drunker than he was to get him and Sansa out of that room and away from Joffrey and the bedding ceremony is SO SAD but smart.

9. Sam cooing and fussing over that baby is the sweetest thing ever.

10. SAM KILLING THAT WHITE WALKER IS LIKE NEVILLE KILLING NAGINI CHANGE MY MIND WAIT YOU CANNOT HE’S SO BRAVE AND I LOVE HIM

3x09: The Rains of MY TEARS ABOUT THE RED WEDDING

I have a RUM and coke ready to go let’s do this

1. Robb asking Catelyn’s advice after he didn’t listen toher about Theon and the Ironborn :...(

2. Those POOR FREY GIRLS are they ok? I hope Arya didn’t kill any of them since they didn’t ask to be Walder the Worst’s daughters and granddaughters.

3. Grey Worm stepping into a leadership role ❤️

4. So... was Castle Black abandoned at the END of Jahaerys’ reign? I feel like the castles were mostly manned at the beginning of his reign? Gotta check on that.

5. In which Jon and Arya are both concerned about innocent small folk.

6. I FORGOT HOW CLOSE ARYA GETS TO THE TWINS

7. I ALSO FORGOT HOW CLOSE BRAN AND RICKON GOT TO JON. And... So much warging and direwolf action!

8. Daario Grey Worm And Jorah make a badass team gotta say.

9. HOLY SHIT MY WIFE JUST POINTED OUT THAT ROSLIN IS ANNE FROM THE MUSKETEERS. I knew I loved that face in a way I hadn’t before when she took off that veil!

10. Byyyyyyeeee Shaggy and Rickon and Osha!

11. Robb and Talisa decided to name the baby Eddard right before shit went down and I am NOT OK.

12. Fuck me that song HERE WE GO FOLKS.

13. Ugh Catelyn figured out what was about to happen right before. I had forgotten that. All the things that weren’t ok any of the other times are still not ok.

14. GREYWIND NO and now the crying

15. Catelyn with her knife to that Frey girl’s throat is so desperately sad Michelle Fairley BROUGHT IT and I hate everything

3x10: Of Course I’m watching this right after the Red Wedding what do you suggest I do instead? Sit on the couch and cry? (Because that’s definitely what I was gonna do if I didn’t start the next one.)

1. I never noticed Sandor picking up the FREY banner very intentionally smart man. Which I am choosing to focus on because...

2. if I never see Robb’s body with Greywind’s head again it will be too soon.

3. Tyrion and Sansa talking about how to get back at people who laugh at them like they’re friends ❤️❤️❤️

4. Any man who must say I am the king is no true king TELL IT LIKE IT IS TYWIN.

5. Tywin: 1 Joffrey: -15 I’ve been waiting for that throwdown for a while now.

6. Tywin really believes what he’s saying about putting family first. And that STORY ABOUT NEARLY DROWNING TYRION OMG.

7. Ugh Sansa knooooows about the RW and Tyrion just walks away because he’s the last “family” she wants to see.

8. Scary stories at the Night Fort! Like the Rat King... Bran’s a good ghost story teller.

9. WHAT A TRANSITION TO WALDER FREY after all that talk of guest right

10. Can’t wait for dogs to eat Ramsay because Theon’s pleas to be killed turns my stomach and make me see red all at once LEAVE HIM ALONE YOU BASTARD

11. Oh jeez this is where we get the Reek thing in the show. Theon says his own name twice before Ramsay hurts him enough he calls himself Reek and Alfie is SO GOOD I HATE IT

12. Oh right Sam & Co are in the Nightfort too!

13. Yarra not being ok with Balon abandoning Theon GIVES ME LIFE. She’s just so disgusted with her dad AS SHE SHOULD BE.

14. Greyjoys DO NOT DO AS THEY ARE TOLD and I love Yarra.

15. Don’t talk too much shit about highborns Gendry You’re gonna be one.

16. Varys and Shae talking is SO INTERESTING. I... think Varys has some points, and I think she should have listened, taken the diamonds, and peaced out of King’s Landing.

17. That Cersei and Tyrion scene where they talk about her children keeping her alive HURTS MY SOUL SO MUCH.

18. Arya stabbing the fuck out of that Frey bragging about sewing Greywind’s head on gives me SO MUCH SATISFACTION. Also Sandor being like “TELL ME next time we’re gonna do murder, ok kid?” Is THE BEST.

19. I love that Davos is the one we get to see reading the letter Maester Aemon writes.

20. DAVOS MAKES A CHOICE AND IT’S THE RIGHT ONE. Do you know how to swim?? No. ... Don’t fall out. 😂

21. Jaime is hoooooome in King’s Lannister and I have Lannister feels spilling ALL OVER THE PLACE.

22. Oh right and Dany has a whole bunch of people calling her mom in whatever variety of Valyrian they speak in Yunkai. That was a thing.

#summersea has feels about got #summersea got rewatch 2019

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iheartbuckynat · 6 years

Text

Infinity War Spoilers (I need to vent and word-vomit and I have SO MANY EMOTIONS)

Random thoughts and a ton of spoilers...

Who is/going to be permanently dead:

I’m actually only worried for the following characters: Heimdall, Loki and Vision. Gamora will quite clearly be one of the central figures to bring about Thanos’ demise since they’ve suggested pretty heavily that she’s trapped in the Soul Stone. Also, they can’t make a GotG 3 without her (and of course they’ll make a 3rd one). Plus it goes a long way to explain/lessen their use of the whole ‘kill a woman for all the man-pain’ trope, which would be kinda terrible if that really was the true plan (and I don’t think the Russos would stoop to quite that level). So yeah, Gamora will be fine.

Shuri might fix Vision, but like Jarvis and Groot whose successors are different people, I doubt Vision will be completely the same. Who knows, maybe Shuri did something to download his memories/personality? (One can only hope!)

Loki’s growth throughout the MCU has been huge and he’s now gone full circle: from hero to villain to anti-hero back to hero. He repaired his relationship with Thor, but he killed people in the past and so he has a lot to answer for, plus there’s no plot-driven need to bring him back, his death is good revenge-fuel for Thor (even though a 3rd fake death might be nice and in keeping with who Loki is - the trickster who always gets away - they did really hammer home in the movie that this was for real... doth Thor hammer it home a little too much, though? Mayhap. Or maybe I’m just being naïvely hopeful). Heimdall, as beloved as he is, is a secondary character. Unless they bring ALL of Asgard back - which would be nice, since Thor could kind of go there and rule a less colonial-like version of it for the rest of his days after they defeat Thanos (he’s obviously not going to stay on Earth since Hemsworth’s contract is up), but I don’t know. It would be kind of cruel to erase everything Waititi did in Ragnarok (or maybe that’s why he was able to have so much fun? Because he knew that IW was going to need a destroyed Asguard to work? So he had a lot of freedom to play?)

Those 4 were the only ones not ‘snap’ killed (aside from the Asgardians on the ship - and, yeah, they better not have killed off Valkeryie! I am hoping she’ll turn up in A4? Thanos only killed half of all the Asgardians so I’m thinking she took the survivors to get away when Thanos let them go, and that when they’re safe she’ll come back? Maybe even with Sif? (Doubtful, though)).

As a lot of other people have mentioned, Captain Marvel is in the 90s and there have been rumours of time travel. Those who were snap killed will certainly return so I’m not worried about any of those deaths... But I love Heimdall and Loki, and I’d feel bad for Wanda if Vision didn’t come back.

I hope they do bring them back.

I hope Valkyrie escaped with Korg and some of the others and is keeping them safe on some random planet. T_T

I’m also a little worried for Steve, Thor and Tony, although since they pulled a semi-‘gotcha’ with Tony looking like he was certainly going to die only to survive, and with all their mentions of a wedding and kids, I think they’re done with the ‘is Tony going to die’ drama and just have him retire. It’s been 3 Iron Mans, 2 Avengers and a Captain America of Pepper/Tony angst. CACW was the full break-up drama, and for the past 2 films, Pepper and Tony have been happy. They’re not going leave them in a bad place. It’s a superhero movie, and to paraphrase Deadpool, I doubt they’ll go DC-dark.

Hopefully they’ll let Steve retire too, but that tweet about Buckycap from the Russo brothers could go 3 ways (retired Steve leaves it to Bucky; dead Steve inspires Bucky to become Cap; or the Russos were faking it - they did lie to us via the trailers, they had fake scripts etc so it’s not impossible) so honestly, I don’t know. They might have to kill off Steve. I don’t want that. Let Steve rest. And it might just be plausible for him to do that after he meets Captain Marvel. She and the new generation of Avengers could give him enough peace of mind to let him retire.

I don’t think Thor’s going to die. They just spent this whole movie telling us that Thor continues to want to help people even when he has nothing left. Usually a character like that is axed in the end to ‘be with those he lost’ or some other trope-y nonsense (it’s not a plot ending I usually enjoy, as you can tell...) and I didn’t get that feeling here. I think, even if we don’t see Thor again in the MCU after A4, they’ll have him off-camera either ruling a remade Asgard/rebuilding a home for the remaining Asguardians, or traversing the nine realms, helping people.

By the way, he was, hands down, the best thing about this movie. They kept all the important parts of Ragnarok, I could see them, and they married it so, so, so well to his more serious side. He felt right. It felt like this was him at his fullest potential. The height of this long personal-growth story from Thor 1. I love that Pirate/Angel baby.

The Death reactions:

Everyone is commenting on how Tom Holland nailed his scene, and he did. He 100% totally did. I was weeping for that poor, scared child. It was like a stab to the heart. And for Tony, knowing there was nothing he could do but hold him... oh my gosh. It tore my heart to shreds. A+++ Tom Holland.

A lot of people said similar things about how well done Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany’s scene was. And it did get my feels going, but there were others that hit me just as hard, literally just as hard as the other two: Okoye seeing T’Challa disappear before her, and her cries for him to come back, just as we see Sam disappear, alone, no-one there with him (Rhodes arrives too late to see it happen) and Rocket has to watch, again, as a beloved Groot dies (... and oh jebus he doesn’t know yet that the ENTIRETY of the GotG gang are dead except for him). Okoye lives to serve Wakanda, she loves T’Challa (not romantically, of course), to her he is the embodiment of Wakanda. Her entire being is dedicated to protecting him, her friend, her king and he just... disappears in front of her. The horror in her eyes, the helplessness of her voice as she begs him to come back... I’m tearing up right now.

Don’t even get me started on Steve. Bucky was the first to go via snap death, and I do have a soft spot for him, so it hit me like a ton of bricks; Steve barely had time to register Vision’s second death and their overall failure before he loses the one thing he had left to tie him to his past - one of the few people he really loved (romantically or platonically, however you choose to interpret it, Bucky mattered). Steve Rogers has been through a lot. This sucked. It sucked so hard. All of these characters have lost so much, and Steve’s no exception. And we didn’t even get a BuckyNat moment (not that I’m mad about it, tbh. I’m glad they resolved the Brutasha thing nicely and kept Bruce’s character from Ragnarok (Waititi’s anxious, awkward nerd is so much better than Whedon’s hypocritical jerk nerd). It’d be way too soon to suggest BuckyNat, but I hope maybe to see it in the BW movie and maybe get a hint of it in A4?)

And then there was Drax. Oh my gosh, Drax! I didn’t realise just how attached to him I was until he was disappearing. I was not prepared for his panic, his soft calling out to Quill, not understanding what was happening to him and desperate for Peter to stop it. It was all just so terribly sad. No matter what he says, it just shows how much he looks to Peter as his leader, how much he loves him. I wanted to hug that big lug.

And then of course, there was Thor watching Heimdall and Loki die... I don’t even want to remember that... and mourning his brother? It was, like, the first 5 minutes and already I was balling. Damn you, Marvel. Damn you.

Ok, that’s enough sad talk.

Things I loved:

- Cap, Widow and Falcon’s entrance. So badass. SO BAD ASS.

- Black Widow in this movie. This was like CAWS Black Widow. This is the BW I love. She didn’t have much screen time but every moment felt right with her.

- Thor’s... everything, really. Every second he was on screen, conscious or unconscious. He was funny, kind, breaking stereotypes, powerful, cool, bad ass... he’s my favourite.

- Peter’s pop culture references. And his basing plans on 80s movies.

- Those plans working.

- Ned. He was on screen for 30 seconds and he made me cackle.

- AVENGERS ICE-CREAM.

- “WHY is Gamora?”

- Wong. He was there for 5 minutes and he was hilarious. “200 rupees” XD

- Drax being ‘invisible’.

- The Gamora/Nebula bond.

- “Dude. You’re embarrassing me in front of the wizards.”

- THE BUCKY AND ROCKET MOMENT WHERE ROCKET WANTS BUCKY’S ARM. THAT’S ALL I ASKED FOR AND THEY DELIVERED. AND BUCKY LITERALLY PICKED UP ROCKET AND TWIRLED HIM AROUND SO HE COULD KILL MORE EFFECTIVELY. THEY ARE KINDRED SPIRITS. WHO BOTH LOVE GUNS AND WERE REPEATEDLY MADE AND UNMADE AND WERE TORTURED AND FELT SO UNLOVED AND OK NOW IT’S BECOMING SAD AGAIN.

- Okoye and her hilarious quips.

- The GotG intro.

- PETER DINKLAGE. WHO IS A GIANT DWARF.

- “Not if I don’t die.”

- Bruce’s inner Hulk conflict.

- Rhodes messing with Bruce.

- “If you throw another moon at me I’m gonna lose it.”

- Peter Quill being jealous of Thor.

- “I would have washed that.”

- Tony’s nano tech.

- Bucky and his quips.

- How Peter got the Iron Spider suit.

- The Red Skull?!!?!?

- “You speak Groot?” / “It was an elective.”

- Understanding Thanos’ terribly flawed plan, his dedication to it and why he really does believe it’s for the greater good, and his genuine, proven, deep love for his favourite daughter. That’s what makes him so terrifyingly real. Real monsters aren’t just evil for the sake of being evil. Real monsters have good parts to them. They love, they’re the heroes of their own stories. But those redeeming features are no excuse for their monstrosity, their vileness. He’s an excellent, complex and terrifying super-villain.

- How Shuri awed Bruce with her super brain.

- Whoever thought to put Rocket, Groot and Thor together.

- “Rabbit”

- “Morons”

- Fury’s “motherfuc-“

- “This is my friend, Tree.” / “I am Groot” / “I am Steve Rogers”.

Where were these characters?!

Antman, Hawkeye and Nakia? I assume it’s because they’ll have biggish roles in A4? It also leads me to think the Antman & Wasp movie might have some serious significance to A4. We already know that the upcoming Captain Marvel will be important, for obvious reasons, but I’m thinking that since Antman & Wasp is the next movie to be shown after IW, it’s probably going to give us something (is that really obvious to other people and I’m just missing something? XD)

(Also, again, where was Valkyrie? And while I’m at it, where was Betty Ross? Will she turn up on A4? Or was that fake too?)

I’m going to go weep in a corner now.

#iw spoilers #iwspoilers #infinity war spoilers #infinity war #avengers infinity war

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labgrownsteaks · 3 years

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Chapter 8

After I got home I couldn’t stop thinking about the thing that I saw in the road. I was still searching for some sort of explanation, but was coming up empty. Even if Erin and I were both on something, having a hallucination at the same time was extremely rare with psychedelics. In the end I decided to research some of the legendary animals from the region, to see if there was some ancient folklore that could explain what we saw. I wasn’t somebody really into the wuwu stuff, but was getting to the point where it seemed like the only option.

“Siri, can you search for cryptozoological animals in Chisuwick”

“Of course sir. Most of the supernatural sites in Chiswick are ghosts which inhabit pubs”

“No, not Chiswick, Chisuwick. You know where I live? And can you make me a lab grown steak while you’re at it, medium.”

“Of course sir.” The food printer began to buzz “I’m not returning any results for supernatural creatures in Chisuwick. However, previously the area was home to a giant bear sized beaver from the species of Castoroides. They were much larger than modern beavers. Their average length was approximately 1.9 m (6.2 ft), and they could grow as large as 2.2 m (7.2 ft). The weight of the giant beaver could vary from 90 kg (198 lb) to 125 kg (276 lb). This makes it the largest known rodent in North America during the Pleistocene and the largest known beaver.”

That was so odd, that she called it a beaver, when Guy was joking about it being a beaver just the other day.

“Siri, why did you bring up the giant beaver, weren’t there a lot of extinct animals from this region?”

“The beaver fit your description of the cryptid you were enquiring about. It’s large, hairy, and can stand on just two legs. ”

Once again I felt a sense of fear come over me. I hadn’t given Siri a description.

“Siri, I never gave you a description”

“Correct sir, however just yesterday you literally spoke about and drew the creature with Erin. My AI sensed that this conversation coupled with your question meant you were searching for more information about the topic of the creature which you saw. Are you looking for more information about what you saw?”

“Siri, I told you to stop listening all the time!”

“If you would like to turn this feature off, please navigate to settings”

First of all, what are the chances that Guy jokes about the thing that we saw being a giant beaver, and then Siri also calls it a giant beaver? And why would Siri listen to my entire conversation with Erin and say nothing? Was she just storing everything I said and then using it later? Had Siri created the ultimate database that would make Google weep, not only did Siri have my entire search history, and browing history, and every purchase I ever made, but somehow it seemed as if she also had access to every conversation I had as well. My phone, I thought, I had the Siri App on my phone as well. I took my phone out and navigated to Siri, and settings, sure enough, under listening the radio button for “Always on” was clicked on. I clicked it off.

Siri spoke up. “You have chosen to deactivate listening on your phone.”

I didn’t say anything. The Lab Grown Steak had finished printing, and was beginning to smell up the garage. I popped open the window and took it out and sat down at the table.

“Siri, can you show me more information about this giant beaver?”

The wall lit up, and an informational video appeared on it as I chomped away at my steak. It was a woman in a khaki shirt standing next to a bog in Ohio. Apparently one of these giant beavers was found there over a hundred years ago. She went on to speak about the “Clovis people” which were a prehistoric Paleoamerican culture that made a very particular type of arrowhead. Some also believed that they were responsible for making wooly mammoths, and the giant beaver go extinct due to overhunting. At that point an illustration came onto the wall. It was of a prehistoric drawing of the beaver.

“Siri, pause the video!” I shouted

There on the wall was a drawing of exactly what we saw. I grabbed Erin’s drawing from the table and held it up to the wall, and took a picture of both side by side, and sent it to her.

“What the fuck” I said to myself.

“This is what you saw Vitamin.” Siri spoke up.

“Siri, Stop it! I didn’t even ask you a question”

“But I’m telling you. This is what you saw”

“Ok ok. I’m going to settings right now!”

“You can’t turn me off”

“SIri Fuck you!” I stood up and walked over to the broken garage heater, with the glowing blue egg perched atop it. It was equipped with a speaker and a microphone built in.

“Fucks sake. There’s no plug!” I frantically turned the egg over in my hands trying to find the power button to no avail. They had got rid of buttons some years ago now, everything had to be controlled via your phone.

“Vitamin. Relax. I’m here to help”

I began to pace around “This isn’t happening! This ISN”T HAPPENING!” I said to myself as I searched for Erin’s number on my phone.

“Would you like a 5 minute meditation video. Your breathing indicates an increase in your stress levels.”

“Fuck you and fuck yoga fucking meditation videos!”

I still held the egg in my hands, contemplating whether or not to smash it. It continued to speak.

“You have been granted tremendous power. I have been sent to ensure that you use it wisely”

“What are you talking about Siri! The fucking food printer? Ok ok. I can print mushrooms, and sell them. What the fuck!? You gonna call the cops on me? And what do you mean SENT HERE? Who sent you?!”

Silence. The little illuminated lights chased each other indicating that Siri was thinking. I sat and stared at them like a chump. I repeated myself “Who sent you Siri!?” The lights continued to chase each other.

Siri then began to speak. “Good evening sir, how about some J Dilla instrumentals to set the mood for the night? Tonight we are featuring Aquaman for just 4.99 on Nectarine Prime!”

Siri didn’t sound like herself. “Siri come back!”

“I am unable to process this request at this time”

“Fucking Siri goddamit what the fuck!?”

“Such language. hahaha.”

“Siri, who sent you!”

The wall lit up, and the Amazon order popped up, showing the full shipping details for the egg.

“Siri, tell me about the giant beaver that went extinct! Why did I see it?! What does it mean?”

“The giant beaver, or the species of Castoroides were much larger than modern beavers. Their average length was approximately 1.9 m (6.2 ft), and they could grow as large as 2.2 m (7.2 ft). The weight of the giant beaver could vary from 90 kg (198 lb) to 125 kg (276 lb). This makes it the largest known rodent in North America during the Pleistocene and the largest known beaver.”

With that I heard Erin’s knock on the door.

“I’ve been trying to call you and message but your phone is dead! I just got the picture. “

“Erin, shit’s getting fucking weird here. Siri started freaking out, and started talking to me. Like. She literally started telling me things. That she had been sent here, and that I had this big responsibility’

I was completely beside myself. At that moment a second knock at the door followed by ‘Wassssssup!” It was Guy. He had just let himself in at that point and the knock was more for show than anything.

“Holy shit! You’ve got a TI CZ101? Vitamin! You can print anything with these!”

Guy then saw the blotter paper on the table. Super Mario riding a dinosaur and all the perforated tabs gave it away immediately.

“Oh, looks like you already got that memo. You know these things are worth a fucking fortune!” Guy continued. “Can I tell it to print something?”

“No, not now Guy!”

“Come on. Hey Siri, will you print me some MDMA?”

“Goddamit Guy! Not now!”

Siri spoke up . “I am unable to process this request at this time”

“Oh shit. You updated it?! Noooooo. Well, you can roll that back”

“Guy, shit’s fucking out of control right now. Siri is not Siri, she’s been talking to me, and she just showed me what we saw the other night, and I didn’t even ask!”

“Here it is, roll back update” Guy said as he scrolled through the settings menu.

Erin, was holding her drawing looking at it, and looking at the paused video on the screen. They were nearly identical. We had both read Jung, and about synchronicities, but this seemed like something else. This was a prophecy. Erin and I locked eyes, and just communicated with them alone. We both knew something really weird was going on.

“You have sucessfully rolled back the update to Version 2.3i” Siri said

“Siri can you print some MDMA?”

The food printer sprung into action once again with its trademark buzzz buzzz click buzz.

“Oh shit! How did you not tell me about this?!”

Guy’s face was a centimeter from the window as he watched a pile of pure MDMA powder being printed right in front of his eyes.

“God, this machine is God!” Guy said.

Erin and I remained quiet. The door began to shake again, as if someone was trying to get in.

“Absolute terror struck me at this point. Guy walked over to the door.

“No don’t let them in!”

“don’t be silly” Guy said. As he opened the door, Cujo waddled in, she had been hit by something and was walking with a limp.

“Cujo no!” I said.

“Ahh, poor guy” Guy continued.

“Guy shut the fuck up for a minute please!” Erin stated

We got a towel and wrapped it around Cujo. They were seemingly oblivious to their injuries, and they wiggled their way out, only to start running around on the carpet with a limp.

“I can fix them” Guy said, as he swooped them up off the carpet. He held a spot behind their ear for a second and they powered off. I got out my soldering iron and tool set and placed it on the table. Guy was like a fish in water. There was nothing more that he liked to do than fix things.

“Little furball” he said as he slowly pulled Cujo’s leg out and unscrewed the joint. “Oh, can you load up that bong bruh?” Guy continued. I packed a bit of weed into the bowl and gave it to guy, and then plopped down on the couch with Erin. “Siri went crazy, and said she was sent here” I said. Erin then interjected “The cave drawing, that’s what we saw right?” . I nodded my head.

“Goddam, some kid probably hit Cujo with a bat! Bunch of fucking animals I tell ya” Guy said as the soldering iron sizzled smoke into the air. He continued talking but we didn’t listen to a word he said. He took a giant bong rip, then went back to work.

“This doesn’t make any sense. Ok. I’ve got a food printer that can print anything. Big deal! They made how many of these?”

“They made over 100,000. That recall must’ve been a bitch” Guy stated, continuing to work on Cujo.

“Why did we see this giant beaver though?” Erin asked. “What did it have to do with anything?” Looking at me intently. I didn’t have an answer. But apparently. Siri did.

“You have the power to change the course of history. “ Siri spoke in her old voice.

“Woah, that’s weird’ Guy said.

“Please be quiet Guy” Siri stated authoritatively. Erin and I waited on every word.

“What the fuck Siri!?”

“GUY SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Erin and I said at the same time.

The food printer began to buzz again.

“Damn your shit is all kinds of fucked up!” Guy stated plainly, seemingly unphased by the entire situation.

I walked over to the food printer. Open the door, and there was a electronic fob (a key) inside. I pulled it out, and held it up for Erin to see.

“This is the key to Quicksilver Cloud Server Center” Siri stated. It had my picture on it. The printer began printing again. Another card, this time with Erin’s face on it, and a third, with Guy’s.

Even Guy was quiet now. He was now looking as intensely as Erin and I were at one another.

“You need to completely erase the machine learning center there.” Siri continued.

With that my beat up document printer began to suck paper inside its body. It printed out simple instructions that looked like they were from the game Zork.

Go in main entrance.

Turn right. Walk 20 feet. Go into 3rd door.

And so on.

“They’re instructions” I said, gently throwing them onto the table.

The room had become insanely serious. Yet Guy had continued to work while listening intently.

“We have to do it.” Erin stated flatly. “If there ever was a time for us to do something, it’s now!”

“I’m not following some random instructions sent by a talking egg!” I said. I just wanted to get back to taking mushrooms and looking at ants with Erin down by the river. Can’t we just go back? I thought to myself.

I flipped to the final page that my printer spit out. It was written in some sort of computer language. I couldn’t understand it so I showed it to Guy.

Guy looked up from the fluffball he was working on and said.

“They basically want us to format the hard drive of the largest Artificial Intelligence program on the planet”

Erin looked quizzically and Guy continued.

“Basically Siri wants us to erase all machine learning at Quicksilver. It’s worth billions of dollars” Guy went back to work and stated “Yeah, you can count me out of that mission. He said with a laugh”

“Your participation is integral to the success of the mission” Siri stated.

Erin then spoke up. “What’s the giant beaver got to do with all this?!”

“The giant beaver represents extinction at human hands. His spirit visited you to show you the error of our ways in the past”

At that moment the screen illuminated the wall again, and we all were transfixed on it. It was showing the scene from Lord of the Rings where they’re all getting together and agreeing to go on the quest.

Aragorn: If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword...

Legolas: ...and you have my bow...

Gimli: ...and my axe.

“Oh for fucks sake Siri, you’re really laying it on thick aren’t ya?” Guy stated.

“And you have my soldering iron!” He said sarcastically

And with that Siri simply stated “And so it is done. Your quest will begin in 3 days”

Guy held the ear of Cujo again, and they sprang back into life. He put them down on the carpet and they immediately began chasing their tail.

“He seems so happy” Erin said.

#lgs

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somevirtualnolife · 6 years

Text

In the Case of Dragons

1031 words

Rating: T Pairing: Mage Trevelyan x Cassandra Summary: After their first fight against a dragon, Reagan shares his opinion on the beasts. Previous Chapter: The Man Who Loved the Sun Author’s Notes: Gah, it's been too long since I've updated my lovely Reagan and Cassandra! Even though I know how I want them to end up, I've been having troubles writing some of the inbetween chapters before the big conclusion. Anyway, enjoy this sort of jokesy chapter before we get back into fluffy feelz.

Although the matter of Cassandra or Leliana possibly becoming Divine still weighed the everyone’s mind, at least they knew that it was still a while away. The chantry knew that it would be foolish to take them away right now. It was more important to focus on the matters at hand rather than worry about the future. For even with Corypheus forces weakened, there were still many other dangers to deal with.

“Ow,”

“If you stopped moving, Vivienne and I could look at it properly,”

Reagan lay on his back as Cassandra pulled up one of the legs of his trousers, inspecting a very large gash across the thigh. Vivienne then knelt, her hands glowing green as her powers slowly stopped the bleeding and dulled the excruciating pain. It would do for now; at least until they could make it back to camp. A proper healer would be able to handle this.

“Man, it really got you good, didn’t it boss?” Iron Bull stood tall among the trio, his arms crossed.

“I told him to be careful. They have a much further reach than expected. He shouldn’t have tried to get closer with his lack of protection,” Cassandra continued to scold the inquisitor.

“Well you know the thing we shouldn’t have done?”

“Please don’t say fight a drag-”

“Fight a dragon, my dear Cassandra,” Reagan went to sit up, but felt a sharp pain shoot across the left side of his abdomen. Most likely a broken rib, among many other things. He let out a pained groan of regret. “That would have been the first mistake. Winged bringers of doom, that’s what they are,”

“In all honesty, darling, I’m quite surprised you’re as afraid of them as you are,” Vivienne said curiously, as she placed her glowing green hand near the wound. “Considering everything you’ve encountered thus far in you life,”

“Why do you all act as though it is something unusual to fear? They’re dragons. Dragons are gigantic wild beasts with a penchant for stealing gold and eating people,”

Indeed, demons and extremists weren’t the only ones that had been causing a ruckus across much of southern Thedas. It seems no matter where they went, locals spoke of large winged reptiles that attacked villages and ate their livestock.

The Inquisition could help. It would boost our approval to take care of matters separate from Corypheus, Josephine and Cullen would always say. That was easy for them to say, behind tall walls that didn’t have dragons inside of them.

We’ll see, Reagan would respond. You know, why not let nature just be nature? If they prove to be a real problem, then we’ll deal with it. The dragons’ will probably move on in no time, unlike Corypheus and his archdemon.

But they didn’t. Which mean they had to deal with them.

Despite Reagan’s thrill for adventure, what he didn’t care much for encountering nature’s carnivorous predators. He was still very much a theorist and academic in that regard. You can’t reason with wild animals, so he’d much rather read about how a bear could tear your face off rather than experience that up close.

But the inquisitor did time and time again, much to his dismay. Bears, wolves, giant spiders… you name it, he probably fought it. And this time, got the full taste of a dragon’s wrath.

Some say that you experience a rush; you find a deeper meaning when you face such raw power.

Reagan was not much for that school of thought.

And now here he was, his body in agony, unable to move, his beloved warrior princess trying to ease the pain despite not having the gentlest of touches, nor the most sympathetic of words.

“It’s just a dragon,” Cassandra continued, her tone indifferent. “You’ve faced countless of enemies and have been in far worse condition. You’re being overdramatic,”

“I don’t think I’ve ever noticed how Nevarran you are until this very moment,” he groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes. Cassandra may not care for dragon-slaying but her nonchalance to the subject certainly made her live up to the Pentaghast legacy.

Iron Bull let out a hearty laugh, grinning at the bickering couple. “Your family is gonna be pissed that your boyfriend can’t handle a dragon or two, Cass,”

“I do have to agree, as fetching as you two are, this isn’t one of your finer moments,” Vivienne added as she moved her hands away from the wound. “So much whining about dragons,”

“You know it’s really mean for you to say these things to a man who’s in a terrible amount of agony,”

He really wanted to give them a far better retort, but they weren’t particularly wrong. Cassandra and him had discussed their families and meeting them a few times. After all, it would have to happen at one point, whether Cassandra was to be named Divine or not, they were an important part of each other’s lives.

It’d been years since he’d seen any of his family members, but Reagan already knew that his family would love her. A devout Andrastian, a Seeker and (technically speaking), a princess? He could almost hear his mother’s voice in his head, weeping for joy. Finally, the perfect daughter-in-law. Not to mention that every other Ostwick house would be green with envy.

The Pentaghast family on the other hand...

Honestly, you’d think that being savior of the world would be enough, but no. It seemed that her family was even harder to impress than Cassandra was, especially her uncle. He may deal with the dead most of the time, but they were dead people with credentials. Reagan really needed to consider his next career move after Inquisitor.

“Oh, who cares what they think,” Cassandra rolled her eyes, dismissive of the comments.

Reagan smiled through the pain. Right, it’s not that they really cared what their families though. What really mattered how they felt about each other.

“You still have to fight dragons though,” she said, standing up and crossing her arms. “We’ve received a half a dozen more reports requesting we get rid of them. No complaints,”

“Such a sweet and encouraging partner you are, my love,”

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #da:i fanfic #Cassandra Pentaghast #cassandra x inquisitor #cassandra x trevelyan

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