#otp: Shield and Claws

[cyberdragoninfinity]

Hm how bout Z-One for the character ask? :3

FUCKED UP PEEPAWWWWWWWWWWW

Why I like them/why I don’t: i know im like. THE Aporia girlie but make no mistake Z-one is also up there. he also makes me frothing rabid dogmouth crazy. HE'S A GREAT VILLAIN AND A GREAT CHARACTER AND PEOPLE HAVE SOME REALLY BAD TAKES ABOUT HIM BUT I'LL STILL BE HERE WITH MY SWORD AND SHIELD. FOREVER. like. he is just truly one of the most awful and unsettling and endlessly fascinating yugioh characters and each day im am so glad he's not just Yusei From The Future. he is Just Some Guy who thought he alone could save the world but Turning Himself Into The Protagonist Not Figuratively But Literally and then developed an absolutely insane god complex when that didn't work out. He condemned his closest friends to his own agonizing loneliness and then got all of them killed one way or another. He's a perfect "villain who thinks theyre doing the right thing" and his 'right thing' is DROPPING A DIVINE CITY ON ANOTHER CITY, KILLING EVERYONE. Z-one is petty and selfish and arrogant and fucking MEAN and i love him so fucking much. my favorite yugioh Big Bad by leaps and bounds. im so sad forever that his primary episodes never got dubbed. one day i'll write my character analysis of him. grandpa fucking suuuuuucks

What I like about their appearance: everything.... like. yusei's design is already so solid now make him Fucking Old as Balls and put him in a Crazy Life Support Contraption and that's Z-one and it fucking rules. i love how limp and gross looking his hair is. I love his contraption's gigantic CLAWS!!! THAT HE DUELS WITH. HE IS SO COOL IDGAF WHAT ANYONE SAYS

Do I prefer their dub names or original names? SAME IN BOTH. DONT GET ME STARTED ON Z-ONE'S ALMOST EVERYTHING NOT BEING DUBBED. AAAHHH

OTP: YOU KNOW IT'S ZONEPORIA BABEYYY!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE DIVORCE I LOVE OLD MAN AGONY. GOD AND HIS FAVORITEST MOST SPECIAL ANGEL. (i do also fuck w z-one/antinomy that's also one where im like. oh god. oh, god.)

NOTP: did see z-one/lester once and it made me want to start attacking people like a wild dog. 😐😑

OT3: iliaster peepaw polycule once more<3 this was paradigm-shifting for me.

Favourite card they use: Infinite Light aint my ao3 handle for nothin' <3 i really especially love his line for it in duel links, "my timelords will never leave my side again"-- he is SO angry and miserable over all his friends dying and 'abandoning' him he will make it EVERYONE'S problem!!!

Favourite moment they were in: to no one's surprise I do have to say it's his duel with Aporia. He is just so delightfully awfully nasty in that duel it makes my head explode. he lit his wife on fire in front of a child and god (himself) and everyone. HE IS NOT A GOOD PERSON. SLASH POS

Least favourite moment: my man is barely on screen enough for me to HAVE a least fav moment. all of his moments have me seated listening and learning etc

Something I associate with them: AND YOU SAID THAT ONE OF US WOULD BE ALL ALONE SOMEDAY / AND THE TRUTH OF IT ECHOED INEXHAUSTIBLY

Would I fuck, marry or kill them: ok i will leave this one in again just for now. old man pussy would not save me but i can dream. who said that. who the fuck said that.

[magicalgirlmascot]

Yessss I love theeessssse

Even if Vakama doesn't specifically make weapons for the Mata, I could definitely see him smithing things for them and/or based on their specific sensibilities. Like idk if he'd make Kopaka a whole sword and shield but he might make Onua digging claws. (Onua has to use all his willpower to accept them graciously and maturely and not immediately wordlessly shove them on and go digging himself a big hole in the nearest patch of dirt.) Making things for people, especially useful things, is how Vakama shows he cares.

In the smithing course, he had to get really good at time management, because there's a not insignificant amount of stuff in smithing that's time sensitive, and if you're starting something that's going to take an hour and you absolutely can't take a break in the middle of it because that will cause structural integrity issues, you'd better make damn sure you have an hour to spare before lunch because otherwise the instructors will give you hell about doing it too many times in a row. Not that Vakama has any experience with this.

For Onewa, the process of Making Art is fascinating because no two people are going to make it the same way, even if they're making the same thing using the same medium. They're each going to be bringing their own skills and preferences and biases and ideas to a piece of art. Even if they're straight up trying to copy something it's going to be different every time. This is something else Krahka struggles to understand but appreciates about him over time. Onewa is a lot of things, but fortunately (and unfortunately sometimes) thoughtful is one of them.

Nuju and Whenua's sci-fi based arguments are largely superficial these days (they like series with the same overall themes, it's the execution they disagree on mostly). Whenua also found out that Nuju spent a lot of time on early Star Trek forums in the early 00s arguing about shipping which he finds very funny (and also disagrees with his choice of OTP because of course he does).

Nuju would be more worried about the cost of filament and the amount of space things take up but Whenua gets so passionate about it, spending hours researching each object and telling Nuju about them and learning how to sand and paint and decorate them so they resemble the originals even more closely and like sue him for thinking his husband is cute. There are worse things Whenua could be spending money on. (Sode note: if they had the space in their apartment, Whenua would absolutely be a model train guy. With the big setup and everything. He drags Nuju to model train shows all the time.)

Nuju insists on taking care of the banking and so on because if Whenua had his way he would be physically in the bank every week. Constantly. Nuju is incredibly proficient at app banking (and phone banking before that since that didn't involve speaking, just pushing buttons and following a robot voice's instructions). Whenua is the only person Nuju knows who not only has a proper chequebook still, but uses it frequently. Every time he owes people money they get a cheque if he hasn't been to the bank recently.

I don't have finished artwork, whether drawn or fic, for KNPS. What I have is headcanons and scenarios because I love your AU.

I MEAN. I LOVE THOSE ALSO. it is the highest possible compliment to say you have Thoughts and Ideas about something I wrote I love you anon

any that you want to uh. share with the class? :3c

[self-shipping-angel]

Dealing with an adhd angel

Here's just a few random headcanons I came up with for how my adhd is handled in some of my ships

Professor McGonagall was the first one to notice that my difficulties with classwork were not out of laziness and that I needed help

She pushed for me to be evaluated and then was very strict with all my professors to make sure they gave me the help I needed, whether that was extended deadlines or hands on assignments instead of an essay

Levi and I have been together long enough and since he was there for me while McGonagall was helping me understand my diagnosis, he can recognize my symptoms sometimes before I even realize I've checked out

Levi doesn't mind relaying the information from a meeting to me because he knows I have a hard time remembering when a lot of information is thrown at me

He also totally gets that it's easier for me to work on reports if I'm also brewing a potion and listening to music

He actually surprised me by putting up a schedule board in my office that he updates daily so I'm less likely to forget about meetings or daily tasks

When Steve learned about my diagnosis, he picked up a whole stack of books on adhd and set to learning as much as he could

It was his idea to try out stim toys to give me something to fidget with when I need to focus on something important.

And he's always eager to learn about whatever my current hyperfocus is. As soon as I latch onto something new, Steve will dive right in with me. He could listen to me talk about Harry Potter and Disney World for hours.

Steve can usually recognize when I'm getting frustrated about being unable to focus or motivate to do something so he'll pull me into his lap and talk quietly to me

[thatboxylady]

OTP Questions!! 8, 20, 28, and for funsies 40 with Thruststorm :]

YESSSS... 8. Any nicknames?

Thrust uses Storm in casual settings. Stormy only gets used when he's trying to be a much more affectionate. Even if Jetstorm is a dramatic bastard through and through, Thrust can recognize when the jet might benefit from a little... softness. Adding the “y” definitely rounds the sound out to that effect.

Jetstorm is a menace when it comes nicknames. Biker boy, roller boy, roller wonder, Wheels, and Johnny (after the motorcycle gang leader from The Wild One) are the main contenders. He also called Thrust daddy in front of the Maximals once to get a rise out of everyone, lmfao.

20. Who said “I love you” first?

There's something to be said about Jetstorm's fears in being too closely associated with the spark in his chest. He's his own person, and he craves being recognized as that more than anything else. That’s unfortunate whenever he wants to be affectionate or show some PDA, though— because he just knows that everyone will inevitably compare him to Silverbolt. "I love you" is a statement way too loaded for him in those exact words, so he had to say it in other ways. Flippant commentary, affectionate shouting, dramatic verbal antics… you get the idea. He went first this way.

As for saying the words for what they are, Thrust was first. He's a quiet mech already but always delivers his commentary with high intensity torque. He said "I love you" in a smoking murmur more powerful than triple-digit decibels. It wasn’t easy place to get to... he had to start with declaring that he wasn’t going to “lose [his] only friend as well,” first.

28. Who’s more protective?

This is tough. They're protective in different ways.

Thrust knows that Jetstorm is perfectly capable of taking care of himself in a physical fight. He's big, fast, mean, and armed to the teeth with high-capacity plasma canons. If those guns don't get you, the massive claws will. Jetstorm doesn't need protecting in a full-blown showdown with the Maximals... but Thrust definitely sees where the cracks in the armor are. Jetstorm uses his bravado as a shield to deflect a lot of his existential dread— Jetstorm's lingering fear with being reduced to less than Silverbolt's shadow is his worst nightmare. Thrust becomes protective of him whenever he sees his panic boiling over.

An instance of this even happened in the show! As soon as Thrust recognized that Jetstorm was even remotely uncomfortable with BA appealing to him to join the Maximals (his face even twitches a little while she's touching him), Thrust steps right in to diffuse that shit. "Forget it, spider lady" fucking indeed.

Jetstorm is protective of Thrust in his own way, too. He's very - very - intense when it comes to the bike’s interactions with Blackarachnia in S1. Whenever he catches them in close quarters together, he's always meddling or trying to ram himself between them. “Fraternizing with the enemy— is that any way to win a campaign?”

The widow (or even other Maximals) might want to chalk that up to Silverbolt wanting to protect BA. In reality, it's the other way around. Oops.

40. Who draws sharpie dicks on the other when they get blackout drunk?

J e t s t o r m .

[self-shipping-angel]

Me and the top 3 husbands!! God I'm tiny lol

(also yes I headcanon Dabi is taller than his official height given that his official height doesnt make sense when he towers over Bakugo yet is supposed to be the same height fight me)

i implore all of you of you're f/o has a cannon hight to throw it into a hight comparer to see what theirs is compaired to you, its one of my favorite things to do.

heres the link to the one i use but their are ones in feet, i just like this one because you can have multiple people.

[cupcakemolotov]

An Unlikely Favor

And forever many days later, my muse finally cooperates. Almost 13K, and dragons (Caroline this time fam!) No Smut, as that just wasn’t going to work for this one. Since it exploded, I don’t feel bad at all.

Warnings: Character Death (not OTP), Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence. I mean. Klaus is Klaus and Caroline is a dragon.

I hate formatting on this hell-site, so I linked you to A03 after this first scene. Also, wanted to give a big thank you to @goldcaught and @klarolinedrabbles who have been a delight and received many text messages and complaints through this writing process (and other stories I am still hitting with mental-sticks).

Caroline set aside her empty glass, the lingering taste of cheap champagne bitter against her tongue. The lead for the painting she wanted was a bust, and irritation clawed sharply at her insides. The artist was no famous painter, but something about the colors and lines had caught her attention when she had seen it all those years ago and she wanted it. It had been an unfortunate turn of events that the family who owned the painting, descendants of the creator, had been so unwilling to sell no matter what she offered them.

Human sentiment could be so frustrating.

At the time she had walked away, because collecting through force was only fun when it was her enemies' heads, and humans did not live forever. She’d had the time. So she’d left behind a few feelers, and made sure she arrived mere weeks after the deaths of those who had owned the painting. But upon arrival, she learned that their entire collection was gone. To her great annoyance, three decades later and she was still no closer to finding where the painting had disappeared to. Once, it had very nearly been in her grasp, but her attention had been needed elsewhere and so she had walked away.

Tonight was turning out to be another long evening of disappointment. Turning sharply on one spiked heel, she headed for the door. Time was on her side, and thirty years was not her longest hunt, but for once her patience was in shambles. She’d come to the city specifically to search for her lost painting and had instead found a hotbed of witches. Usually, that was not a matter of too much concern, as she had learned to hide what she was… and certain spells had been gifted to her over the years to make that easier. But this coven had known who and what she was, and the relaxing week she had planned had turned into something a bit more bloody.

Now she was leaving empty handed and annoyed. Shopping would do her no good, collecting pretty baubles only soothed the rough edges when they were the pretty baubles that she wanted. Maybe it was time to return to one of her more secluded homes and stretch her wings. It had been a few years since she’d allowed herself the indulgence, and her beast was starting to grow restless and bored. Perhaps some time meandering through her collections and flying would help burn the worst of her temper off.

“Hello, love. You look ravishing.”

The sharply accented words were unexpected, and Caroline twisted around to blink at the man standing near her, surprise cutting through the annoyance that for the first time in centuries, he’d managed to sneak up on her. The curling smile on his face as he realized it did not improve her mood. But this particular monster had never bothered with reverence or fear, and charm clung to all the sharp edges of him as he smiled at her.

Tonight, he was dressed in a perfect tux, overdressed for the small gallery and unbothered by it, the leather cords she found endlessly fascinating missing but the dimples and lips she sometimes thought about too long on full display. He stepped closer, the edges of his smile deepening at her continued annoyance.

“Klaus.” She offered him her hand after a dozen heartbeats, giving herself a moment to absorb the impact of him even as a lifetime of greetings nudged at her. As much as she’d learned to love modern familiarity, with Klaus and in public, she’d never been comfortable expressing it. Unchanging he might be, she’d never managed the immunity to him necessary to ignore the way her beast shifted beneath her skin in his presence. Formality was a shield against public eyes. “I didn’t realize you were back in this part of the world.”

“A bit of business, I’m afraid.” He said, brushing a lingering kiss along her knuckles. “Nothing nearly so entertaining as the last time we ran into each other.”

Caroline frowned at his words, the slightly apologetic note, but decided it could be dealt with in a moment. This close and there were other changes that were suddenly apparent and far more important. Ignoring the decorum that had colored so much of their long, long lives she stepped closer and brushed her fingertips along the edge of his jaw, studying the shape of his eyes. Klaus allowed the familiarity, seemed to welcome it, and she breathed deep.

His scent was different.

Finally certain, she allowed herself to smile, her annoyance and irritation pushed aside for happiness for her friend now that she knew he had not learned a new trick. For this, she did not have to fake her delight. “You broke your curse.”

The flash of satisfaction, the smug tilt of his head was achingly familiar. “I did.”

“That’s wonderful,” she told him, letting her hand reluctantly fall away, fingertips tingling. “How long?”

“Less than a year,” Klaus assured her. “Even if business had not brought me here, I would have found you soon.”

“Good,” Caroline murmured “You remembered your promise.”

His look was chiding, starkly serious beneath the charm. “I have not forgotten a single word that has passed between us, Caroline.”

Lips finally curling at the hint of darkness in his voice, she tipped her head. “But if you are not here about your curse, I do wonder what business could possibly bring you to this particular gallery.” She deliberately let her gaze scan the quaint gallery, the mostly casually dressed patrons. “This isn’t quite your scene anymore.”

Klaus chuckled and moved to tuck her arm through his. “As it were, I have been looking for you, just not only for all the reasons I would have liked.”

She paused, fingers resting lightly on his forearm. Rarely did she go longer than two decades without Klaus making an appearance in her life, but this stretch of time had been nearly forty years. Such a small number of years in their lives, but an endless amount of time in terms of humans and their technology, and she had started to grow curious that he had not reached out to her. That he would make a deliberate choice to tell her that this visit was different was both a curiosity and a warning. “And why were you looking for me, Klaus?”

His hand settled over hers, fingers and palms far warmer then she remembered them ever being before. In her heels they were nearly the same height and he met her eyes steadily. “Would you let me buy you a drink? Perhaps dinner?”

Caroline weighed his offer against the disaster of her week and her eyes narrowed. “Do tell me that you are not here with those witches.”

“I am not,” a flicker of something dangerous, a hint of new and unusual yellow and the hard edge of the vampire she’d known for centuries behind his eyes. “But perhaps I will acquaint myself before I leave.”

“There shouldn’t be much left to find,” she dismissed. “I am perfectly capable of killing a few witches, Klaus.”

A laugh, low in his throat. “So I have seen. And perhaps you are correct, but there is always one or two, stashed away who believe themselves safe. I do so enjoy ruining their illusions.”

She huffed and relaxed against him as he led them towards the door. “For you, perhaps, hunting such a thing is enjoyable.”

“Come now, Caroline. You cannot expect me to believe after all these centuries that you do not enjoy a challenge.”

“There are challenges, Klaus, and then there are challenges. Hunting witch covens is an annoyance, I assure you.” She wrinkled her nose. “And these witches are not particularly imaginative.”

“And yet,” he murmured, the set of his mouth unforgiving.

Caroline considered that as they bypassed the humans still mingling, the startled glances thrown their way as they took in the finery. She knew his thoroughness would partly stem from a promise given so long ago, but Klaus had never left her with the impression that their past was a burden he wished to be rid of. In fact, if anything, he always sought for more of her, for more of her time. It fascinated as much as it left her wary, this man who knew more of what she was than any other living creature.

And whatever business had Klaus seaking her out would likely be messy, but hadn’t she just been contemplating how bored she was? Things rarely stayed dull near her favorite vampire, now hybrid she supposed, and more importantly, he had earned the right to ask that she at least hear him out. It was a favor she granted very few, but for Klaus… In all the centuries and decades that they had known each other, he had only ever asked her for one favor. She had been unable to help him, though she had done what she could to mitigate that failure.

That he would come to her again, the ghosts of his creation seemingly laid to rest?

“You may take me back to wherever you are staying,” she said decidedly as they approached the doors. “Hopefully you have better booze.”

His head tipped towards her, brows winging upwards. “As if I’d offer you something subpar, love.”

She laughed at the offended note in his voice, the glint behind his eyes. “No? I remember spending many a night drinking with you what could most definitely be described as subpar. Chicago was just a few decades ago, as I recall, and the booze there was terrible.”

His mouth curled upwards on one side, amused indulgence heavy in his voice. “I assure you, I have not forgotten your preferences.”

“I should hope not,” she drawled before squeezing his arm. “I will listen to your request, but I have one of my own.”

“Do you?”

His eyes glittered at her, something hot and unreadable in those yellow edges of his pupils. She pressed against his side again, and deliberately let her gaze linger on the lines of his face. “I do. You will keep the rest of your promise, and tell me the details of how you finally broke your curse. I want to know everything.”

Find the rest here:

A03 | FFN

[marshthat-ships]

The jedi council scene from s02e09 clone wars but angsty otp version

Grievous let out a harsh laugh. The crimson-coloured hologram vanished, but before the image completely disappeared, another heart-tearing moan of his zabrak prisoner cut through the crackle of the electrical discharges.

As Ahsoka, accompanied by several yonger Jedi knights and a group of younglings, left the hall, the masters exchanged heavy glances.

"After engaging Grievous we lost contact with master Koth," Adi Gallia said, looking around at everyone present, voicing a common thought. “But we didn't expect it to turn out like... this." “Monster! He’s a monster!” gasped someone.

“Where to find Grievous the question remains,” the Grand Master Yoda raised his head, as if trying to listen to the Force. “Help master Koth we should.” The others also concentrated, searching for answers in it. But to no avail. Koth's presense in the Force was so faint that there was no way to define it properly, let alone state the Jedi master’s current location. "See master Koth do you, master Windu?" Yoda asked, turning to Mace Windu, who was standing by his side. “A stronger bond with him than the rest of us you have. In a Concordance of Fealty you two did engage.” “No, master.” For a split second in the eyes of the korun there was almost physical pain, but then he quickly pulled himself together and returned his usual reserved expression to his face. If a lie could be defined by the color of a lightsaber, Windu's blade at this moment would have turned so pure scarlet that no Sith could match it. But the hilt of his saber was still at his belt. Only in the master's mind, secretly to anyone else, there was a whirl of emotions. Not his feelings — his own thoughts now seemed to him only a faint breeze against the raising storm. Mace’s mind was full of muffled but still painful emotions of Eeth Koth. Master Yoda was certainly right about the Concordance — this unique Force-bond between the zabrak and the korun, created along with the traditional exchage of the lightsabers, was even tighter than the one of a master and his apprentice. And now, even despite the mental shield that Windu had thoughtfully shut to keep himself from shouting out loud in fron of the Council, this Force-bond was bleeding tears and vibrating with the vague echo of Eeth’s burning pain. And as Mace slightly lifted the shields to slide his mind along their connection towards the captive Jedi, their bond literally burst in subtle sobbing waves, making Windu’s heart ache. Somewhere far away, the zabrak hung limp in the humming energy cuffs, barely holding on to the edge of fainting. His presence in the Force was so dim that even when straining all his senses, Windu could only feel a vague silhouette of Eeth. Mace took a deep breath, so as not to betray his emotions in front of the others, and sent along their connection the warmest wave he could, hoping that it would reach its goal. He could see Eeth. But there was nothing he could do to help. Not him, not even the masters who all were looking at him now. The korun couldn't tell where master Koth was being held. All he got were some confused images of Grievous's metal claws on the cream-coloured tunics, the blue flashes of MagnaGuard's electric staff, Eeth struggling to breese under the steel grip, his eyes wide open and wet with tears... All he felt was emotions. And emotions like that were not greeted by the Jedi teachings. And so he had to evade the question, feeling doubly disgusted with himself — first, because he, Mace Windu, a role model for many members of the Order, allowed himself to lie straight to Yoda's face. And second — for the fact that the one for whom he sacrificed his honor and his honesty, his fragile, tender lover, this lie wasn’t helping in any way. "The Force is too weak around master Koth," the korun muttered. “That's all I can say.” "Happy to hear that we’re not”, the green Grand Master leaned on his cane again, frowning. Suddenly, next to master Plo Koon one of his clone troopers appeared and whispered something to him, pointing at the holoprojector table. With a nod from the kel-dor, the clone disappeared, and master Koon voiced his observation. “Commander Wolffe has noticed a signal in the holotransmission. Play back the message.” Once again, the zabrak's face, twisted with agony, appeared right in front of master Windu's eyes. His sharp gaze could not help noticing every detail that ruined Eeth’s long familiar and loved features: the way the zabrak's eyes rolled up when he craned his neck as the MagnaGuard’s staff hit his back; how he clenched his teeth, but moans still escaped from his lips; how his once neatly braided dark hair was now sweeping the floor under the feet of his tormentor; how swollen and darkened his left eyelid was; how the blood glistened on his upper lip — Grievous must have punched him in the face right before recording this message… “Look, hand signals!” Anakin exclaimed. They all looked where he was pointing — the fingers of master Koth's left hand were rapidly moving, forming some shapes. What somebody could mistake for convulsive spasms after the electrocution, and what was actually a code in an old sign language. As master Kenobi leaned forward to the hologram, Mace sent a wave of his sincere pride for the zabrak into the Force, and then — another one of a reassuring determination. "Hold on, Eeth. We'll save you," pushed Windu gently along their bond. "Just a little longer, my love," he added after a moment, looking around warily to see if anyone had noticed anything. In response, something very, very pale and almost undefinable came back to the Jedi master. Obi-Wan had just decoded the coordinates. And was the first to volunteer to Saleucami system, where, apparently, general Grievous’ flagship was located. Skywalker Immediately joined his decision, willing to finish off Grievous once and for all. The participation of master Gallia was less predictable — but Windu didn't object. He had a feeling that this time the battle with the Separatist General would not be an easy one. The korun would have so liked to leave everything and go with them to where master Koth — his dear Eeth — was desperately calling for help. The Force-bond was still silently crying. Eeth was in terrible pain and no matter how good a Jedi he was, it took a truly titanic effort of will and increadible strength to endure what the zabrak had been subjected to. Master Koth didn’t show his weaknesses to Grievous — but he let go all the emotions in the Force, where only Windu could hear him, the only one to whom Eeth trusted his real feelings. And Mace, experiencing along with the zabrak every electrical discharge that went through his body, wanted so so much to put Eeth out of his misery, to hug him, to comfort him, to kiss away all his pain, to promise that he would never again let something so awful to happen again... But he couldn’t. Unfinished buisness in the Temple here, on Coruscant, required his personal presence, and the korun, with a heavy heart, had to push away Eeth’s muffled sobs to the back of his mind and to accept himself being incapable of doing anything right now. Attachments were forbiden — as was the desire to put one’s feelings over the needs of the Order and the Republic. “So be it,” Yoda concluded, approving the members of the rescue party. “Go, you now may.” Mace also bowed stiffly, trying his best to keep his face expressionless. But deep inside he was silently pleading the Force, the stars, anything to make the rescue mission succeed. “May the Force be with you.“

[fan-writer02]

Howdy folks. So, I watched Rogue One the other day and sorta fell in love (aight I’m going to be honest, I’m pretty sure it is now one of my favorite Star Wars films of all time) and honestly, Jyn and Cassian are my new otp. So, naturally, I had to do the one thing the Rogue One fandom knows how to do best. Make an alternate ending. c: Enjoy.     (Also if you wanna go check it out over on Ao3 I’d greatly appreciate it thx <3) (Oh, and let me know if you want more ;))

Find hope where hope is not found

               Jyn stumbled back, trying to ignore the pulsing in her leg so she could stand up straight. Her blaster was long gone, leaving her defenseless. But if she had to fight Krennic with her bare hands she would. So she pulled her shoulders back and leaned forward, even as her heart fought to break free from her chest. For she was staring down the barrel of a blaster.

               The shot came, but the pain did not. She glanced down in confusion, wondering if the shot had sent her into shock. She had been told that could happen, where you don’t feel the initial pain until the adrenaline wears off. But no, there was no blaster wound. No blood. Nothing.

               She looked back up again, watching in shock as Krennic crumpled, a smoking hole in his shoulder. Her gaze went past him, and her heart finally stopped pounding against her rib cage. Now, it sunk to her stomach.

               Cassian was leaning against a beam, back heaving and eyes focused on her, as if he didn’t even see the man he’d just shot. In those short moments that their gaze held, she took him all in. Although, due to his body being half hidden by the pole he leaned against, she couldn’t tell where he was injured. But clearly, he was. Wavering, he looked like he was barely hanging on to consciousness. He still had his arms extended, his hands tightly fisting his blaster.

               She stumbled forward and half crashed half leaned against the control panels. Much to her relief, the files had loaded. They’d been successfully transferred. The relief that filled her was exhausting. A sort of sad bubbly feeling. They’d done it. They’d succeeded.

               She only prayed someone had been listening.

               She looked up at Cassian and flashed a smile. His blaster was still aimed at the unconscious Krennic, but his eyes were on her. He matched her smile with his own, albeit weak and laced with pain. He wheezed and slowly began lowering his arms, just before the blaster clattered onto the grate floor. She stumbled towards him and ducked under his arm before he could completely collapse.

               His breathing was ragged, she could feel it on her cheek. Still, she couldn’t find her voice, and it seemed he couldn’t either, for all he did was wrap an arm around her waist while his other grappled for her arm, which he gripped tightly. She looked towards Krennic, and moved to pick up Cassian’s blaster, fully prepared to finish the job. But Cassian stopped her, using his body weight to keep her from moving.

               “Leave it, Jyn, leave it.” He mumbled, his accent thick. She fell back, allowing Cassian to press his face against her hair, letting his choppy breathing calm her. He was right. There were other things to worry about.

               Like getting off this planet.

               She took one last look at Krennic, before turning and pulling Cassian’s arm over her shoulder. Together, they made their way towards the elevator, shuffling as an awkward three legged creature. With every step Cassian became more and more dead weight.. Both his legs were uncooperative, dragging them both down, and he had his left arm wrapped tightly around his chest. But the only signs of his discomfort was his breathing.

               “Do you think-“ He wheezed, and she craned her neck to look into his face. She was surprised to see he was already looking at her, a small smile teasing his lips. “Do… do you think anyone was listening?”

               She focused on placing one foot in front of the other, but she didn’t have to think twice before answering. She broke eye contact to look up at the cloudy sky above them, littered with a few scattered Imperial aircraft, but mostly smoke. “Yes. I do.” She had little energy to say any more, so she only shifted him, her heart skipping a beat at his shaky inhale. She pulled them into the elevator and helped Cassian to lean against the wall so she could focus on punching at the keypad, placing their destination for ground level.

               “Jyn.” Cassian muttered. At this point his accent was so thick, she could hardly make out what he was saying. She finished typing, and the door slammed shut. She turned and went to his side to grab his arm, supporting him. He murmured her name again incoherently, his eyes barely open.

               “Cassian, stay with me.” She said, too desperate to care that her voice quivered. She was done with being strong. Done with being careful and guarded. Her shield was down, but she did not care. Because for all she knew, Cassian could be dying.

               She moved closer, until their chest’s were almost touching. Cassian’s head was resting against the glowing wall of the elevator, his tired gaze resting on her, and she couldn’t help but lean forward. She lifted a hand and set it on his shoulder, trying to tell him what she wanted to say. She opened her mouth to actually voice her thoughts, to tell him “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m sorry about K2 I’m sorry we’re going to die I’m sorry-” but nothing came out. She shut her mouth again, feeling absolutely and utterly helpless.

               He surprised her by lifting his hand and grabbing the edge of her shirt, just above her collar bone. His look deepened, and for a moment, Jyn felt the world around them disappear. Like they weren’t in a shaking elevator, in a building on an island threatening to explode. Like their friend hadn’t just died. And for a minute, everything was okay.

               But the spell was broken when the elevator shook, nearly spilling them both onto the floor. She pushed away from the wall towards the panel, huffing a sigh of relief when the screen glared back at her “Ground 0”.

               She spun around and grabbed Cassian, trying to be somewhat gentle by pulling him against her. His side bumped against hers, and for the first time he let out a pained moan. She murmured a small, “Sorry.” but there wasn’t time to be careful. The doors opened, and the world outside only confirmed what she feared.

               The entire island was falling to hell.

               Ships were raining from the sky, along with bits of debris, and consequently, balls of flame comprised of broken parts from both the building towering above them, and the crashing ships. She pulled Cassian out of the elevator and across the sand, while he tried his best to help her. But he couldn’t seem to get his legs beneath him, which worried her more than she could say. But still, he didn’t complain, only pushed on in desperate attempts to match her sloppy steps.

               The wind picked up, grabbing at her shirt and hair. Sand began to swirl about them, getting into her clothes and her eyes making it almost impossible to see. She squinted, and swiveled, trying to find a means of escape. But when she turned, she stumbled, and for a moment forgot to breathe..

               On the horizon rose a plume of flame and smoke. A giant mushroom cloud, like the storms she’d seen back home, on the farm with her father and mother. One’s that flashed lightning and thunder. But this… this was clearly not a rain cloud.

               There’s something about staring death in the face that makes you lose all hope. Jyn fought back a cry as her knees went out, and both her and Cassian fell into the sand. He leaned against his hand, his other still holding his stomach, but he was looking up at the smoke.

               At their death.

               He fell back, twisting his body so he could see her better. She refused to meet his gaze, for she knew what she’d find there. It wasn’t like him to just… just sit there and do nothing. Unless he was giving up. And she wasn’t quite ready for that. Not yet.

               She wanted to live. So badly. More than that, she wanted him to live, too. She wanted them to live.

               She looked behind them, trying desperately to find anything that might look like a means of escape. A ship, a fleeing aircraft… anything. But all she could see through the flying sand was smoke and devastation.

               A hand grabbed hers, and she jerked her head to look at him. Cassian smiled wearily, and started to say something before turning away and coughing into his shirt sleeve. When he lifted his head, she was horrified to see the blood stain he left behind.

               “Your… your father…” he paused and swallowed. His hand squeezed hers, and he smiled again. “Your father would be proud of you, Jyn.”

               In that moment, Jyn had never felt such a strong desire to cry. And she never cried. She could count on one hand the amount of times she’d cried in the past five years of her life. But now, here, with death looming just a few miles away, and Cassian dying, she wanted to cry and scream at the world for being so cruelly unfair.

               She met his smile with one of her own, although it was tear filled. Because heck it all, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Death, at this point, was inevitable. So she let the tears fall.

               Cassian leaned forward, and his head met her shoulder. She moved closer to him, finding the strength to kneel up and pull him into her arms. His hands rose to press weakly against her back, another on her neck, and his nose tucked just under her ear.

               She could hear him breathing, and she tried to focus on that. The wind was picking up now, hot and dry. She knew it wouldn’t be long. Who knew this would be how she would die? On the beach of an imploding planet?

               She clung to him tighter, and honed in on his breathing. In and out, in and out. It was choppy, but steady. She let it drown out the noise around them. The sound of death.

               The wind picked up suddenly, and she knew. This was it. The sand was clawing at her face now, and she screwed her eyes shut. She prayed death would be quick about it. Not just for her sake, but for Cassian’s. He was shaking in her arms, his grip growing weaker. He was in pain, and if death was going to come, then she wished it would do it quickly.

               She gave up, and prepared to let the sand swallow her.

               But a hand suddenly gripped her jacket, none too kindly, and jerked her to her feet. She spiraled and sprawled on what she thought would be sand, but to her amazement, was actually metal. Metal that hummed beneath her with life and the promise of a roaring engine.

               She opened her eyes to see a figure dragging Cassian up the piece of metal which she realized was, in fact, a gangplank to a ship. She scrambled to her feet and crawled up inside the ship, not caring if it was Imperial or Rebel.

               We’re going to live. She thought fanatically. The idea was enough to make her giddy.

               The door slammed closed, and only then did she gather her wits. The man holding Cassian let him drop to the ground before rushing towards a door, not pausing to say anything before practically leaping into the cockpit, the sound of switches clicking and gears whirring the only things she could make out. After a quick assessment, she saw that she and Cassian were alone, with only the pilot as their companion.

               Cassian.

               She turned and crawled over to his side before helping him to sit up more comfortably. She thought about leaning him against the wall of the ship, but it was bent at an awkward level, and with how his ribs and who knew what else being messed up, she figured something softer would be better.

               So she positioned herself behind him, and slowly laid him to rest in her lap, with his back and head propped against her chest and shoulder. His head flopped, and his nose tickled her neck. Although having him unconscious worried her, she also counted it as a small mercy. At least he was blissfully unaware of any pain.

               She looked up when a curse was muttered from the cockpit. The ship shook, and she braced a hand against the wall.

               “Hello!?” She called, her voice a mere rasp. She swallowed and wet her lips before trying again. “What’s happening?”

               “Jyn! Hang tight, we’re breaking atmospheric pressure.”                

               Jyn fell back with relief, a small laugh choking her. Bodhi. It was Bodhi, he’d found them.

               “You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice.” She called, not sure if he could hear her or not. When she didn’t get a reply, she remained silent, figuring he could concentrate better without her distracting him.

               Instead, she looked down at Cassian, and brought her hand away from the ship’s wall to push back his hair. It was filled with sand, but worse than that, his forehead was layered with sweat. She let her hand rest there, worrying when she realized how warm he was. The blood on his sleeve caught her eye, and she wondered what interior damage he’d sustained to cause him to cough blood. She struggled to remember her basic lessons as a child. Gerrera hadn’t cared much for her schooling, so whatever knowledge she had was from experience or what her mother had told her.

               Coughing up blood. The lungs. A punctured lung? What do you do for a punctured lung? She looked down again, focusing on Cassian’s chest. Each breath was irregular and wheezy, his chest shaking with each rise and fall. His chest was definitely messed up.

               The ship careened, forcing Jyn and Cassian against the wall. Cassian’s weight pressed her already injured leg against the ship, and she bit on her lip to keep from screaming. The adrenaline was slowing wearing off, and with it came pain.

               The ship jerked and visibly dropped, leaving her stomach behind. “Bodhi?” She cried.

               “We’re out! We’re out!” He whooped, accompanied by more clicking and beeps from the ship's controls. She heard his quick steps, then he appeared in the cockpit’s doorway. “We’re safe, guys.” He breathed, a wide grin splitting his face. “Well, for now anyhow.” He moved towards them, pausing to search through some supplies in an overhead bin.

               She noticed he favored his right leg, but other than a few minor cuts and bruises, he looked to have escaped mostly unscathed. For the utmost time that day, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. At least one of them had escaped without any fatal injuries.

               Speaking of which.

               She pulled Cassian a little bit closer. “Is there a med kit on board?” The thought only then occurred to her that they were on a strange ship, not the one they’d come to the island on. An Imperial ship? If she was more aware, she might be able to figure it out. But her mind was so muddled, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. It was a ship, and it had gotten them off of Scarif, and that was enough for her.

               Bodhi pulled out a metal box from the bin, not bothering to shut it before making his way to the spot where Jyn and Cassian lay. He crouched beside them and opened the box, pulling out different medical equipment and passing them to Jyn, who only stared at them. She had no clue what she was doing. She’d been hurt in the past, but she’d merely slapped a bacta patch on it and called it good. There was only so much a small bacta patch could do for internal damage, especially something so bad it caused Cassian to cough blood.

               “What do I do?” She asked, picking up a cylinder. She pulled off the plastic covering, and realized it was a needle.

               Bodhi was busy peeling off bacta patches, but gestured towards his arm. “Just stick it in his arm. It’s an injection and should help wake him up and ward off some of the pain.”

               She didn’t hesitate to jab it into Cassian’s skin, right through the cloth of his shirt. Once all the clear liquid inside the needle was gone, she pulled it out and tossed it aside, before looking back up at Bodhi for further instructions.

               “Where’s he the most hurt?” Bodhi asked, a quiver finding its way into his voice. He looked up, and she realized he was just as nervous as she was, although there was a hardness behind his eyes. She trusted him.

               “I-I’m not sure. He fell in the tower, hit his back and chest. He couldn’t walk and he was coughing up blood-” She looked down at his sleeve.

               “Oh.” Bodhi whispered, following her gaze. His hands were shaking. “Oh.”

               “What do we do? I think he has a punctured lung.”

               “T-take his shirt off.”

               Jyn hastily unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it away, revealing his chest. She swallowed thickly at the sight of multiple bruises and deep discolouration along his entire rib cage. And that wasn’t the most concerning part. Because she could see the bumps beneath the skin, no doubt hiding broken ribs.

               Bodhi began pressing bacta patches on the worst of the bruising, before leaning back on his heels and pressing his palms against his knees. He exhaled deeply. “Anything else?”

               Jyn carefully leaned Cassian forward, wincing when his head flopped forward. But she wanted to check his back, because she had no doubt that falling on a metal beam had to have some effect on his spine. At that thought, it dawned on her that that could be the reason why he’d been unable to walk. Perhaps his spine had sustained some damage…

               She pulled up his shirt, and sucked in a sharp inhale. His lower back was nothing but one massive bruise, and along his spine was red and swollen. Bodhi leaned forward and hissed at the sight, his tongue clicking anxiously.

               “Oh no. Oh no oh no, that’s…” Bodhi paused and caught himself before he could say any more.

               “Bacta. Quick.” Jyn barked, and both she and Bodhi wasted no time in pressing the patches against the worst of Cassian’s spine. Once done, she peeled off her jacket with some difficulty, seeing as how Cassian was still half laying in her arms. Once done she spread it on the ground, and Bodhi went to get a blanket to spread over top of it. Between the two of them, they managed to lay Cassian on the makeshift bed. It wasn’t great, and she had a feeling that with the state of his back, he should not be lying on a hard surface, but it was the best they could do.

               Bodhi stuttered that he was going back to check on their stats, before disappearing into the cockpit, leaving her alone. She adjusted herself until she was leaning against the wall, next to Cassian's head. She studied him, trying to calm down and finding it very difficult to do so. Her mind kept drifting to the fact that they had almost died. They’d been so close to death. She practically touched it.

               Her mind drifted to Kay. She hadn’t been half as close to the droid as Cassian had been, but still, he’d been a friend. One of the few she’d ever had. And he’d sacrificed himself for them- for her father’s cause.

               And what had happened to Chirrut and Baze, Jyn had no idea. If they’d survived the battle, there was a slim chance they’d made it off the island before it exploded. And she’d been so absorbed in Cassian she hadn’t thought to ask Bodhi. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. For now, she’d rather have the small sliver of hope in the fact that they might be alive.

               She looked back down at Cassian and dwelled on that for a minute. Hope. Something Cassian practically lived for. She closed her eyes and smiled, regardless of their current situation. To some it might seem pretty hopeless, with Cassian practically lying on his deathbed and Bodhi trying to find a way to get an Imperial ship to a Rebel base. But the plans had made it out, they were alive (albeit barely) and as long as they had that, Jyn figured there was still plenty of hope.

[self-shipping-angel]

Steve and Tony got into an argument at some point, but no one knows what it was about because Tony was drunk and not making sense. Meanwhile I got a bit drunk and kept pestering Stephen about how he's my brother and there's nothing he can do about it. (Somehow I did not end up in the lake 😂😂😂) Eventually I fell asleep curled up in a chair and Steve had to carry me home.

If you guys wanna know how that “get together” went at Tony’s after the takeover. Well, I ended up having to toss my drunk father into the couch and question my life choices. Stephen and Shiroe probably bonded a lot, but I couldn’t tell yah for sure since they fucking left halfway through because Tony was being excessive 😂😂

(( @self-shipping-angel feel free to add on to this w what happened to you guys I felt inspired lol ))

[hello-robin-goodfellow]

Smaug for character asks

@amalthea9 @ardenrosegarden @princesssarisa @mademoiselle-princesse

Favorite thing about them: How funny, affably evil and vain his dialogue sounds.

Least favorite thing about them: Maybe the fact that his appearance is short and i just wish more of him? But probably this is for the better to the narrative.

Favorite line:

“Well, thief? I smell you, I feel your air - and I hear your breath. Come along! Help yourself; there's plenty, AND to spare”.

“Hmmm... You have nice manners for a thief - and a LIAR”.

“Revenge? You? HA! I am SMAUG! I kill when I wish! I am strong, strong, STRONG! My armor is like tenfold shields! My teeth are like swords! My claws, spears! The shock of my tail, a thunderbolt! My wings, a hurricane! And my breath... DEATH! Well? Where are your riddles now”?

brOTP: He is a bully, he has no friends.

OTP: I shipp Smaug x Gold like i shipp Mr Krabbs x Money.

nOTP: Is there anyone crazy enough to shipp him with Bilbo since the 2012-14 movies came out, due to them being played by Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman in that version?

Random headcanon: The fact there was a low in dwarve woman population was due to him keeping them (along with some dwarve kids) in his cave, using them as jesters and musicians (he enjoys music, specially from the harpr) to entertain him before eating the poor ones. This was how he stayed alive in the cave for so long without feeling the need to go outside and hunt.

Unpopular opinion:  Saying that i like  Rankin Bass’s 1977 version of Smaug better them the 2012-14 version, due to the creativity of his design and the vocal performance of Richard Boone, is an unpopular opinion?

Song i associate with them: Rankin Bass’s 1977 rendition of Far Over the Misty Mountains Cold:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1rsEJgjks7o

Favorite picture of them:

[missmalice202]

Designing Your Melody: Chapter 06 - Cherry

Chapter 01 - Chapter 05

“DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!” Marinette screamed into her headset as she tapped the buttons on her controller as fast as her fingers would let her.

“Dang, girl. Leave some for the rest of us.” Alya’s chuckle filtered though her headphones over the sound of gunfire. Her orange mecha that had been built for speed and precision performed a deadly dance as she picked off the few stragglers that Ladybug’s mecha had left behind. “You’re out for blood tonight, aren’t ya? Tough week?”

‘Tough’ didn’t begin to cover how frenzied the last week had been for Marinette. After hemming and embroidering and sewing THOUSANDS OF FREAKING SEQUINS, Jagged Stone’s new ensemble was finally finished. Why she had agreed to undertake such a herculean task at the last minute, she had no idea. Well, that’s not entirely true. She knew exactly why she accepted the job: she loved Jagged Stone and she loved a challenge.

Still, the fact that she was stressed out and sleep deprived remained. However, she was still too jittery from the numerous cups of coffee she’d sucked down over the past few days to go to sleep yet, so she figured she’d meet up with her clanmates and play for a little while until she finally came down from her caffeine high.

“Rena, I haven’t slept in 36 hours, I’ve stabbed myself a dozens of times sewing on all those stupid sequins that I thought would be such a good idea to add to his design, and I’ve had enough coffee over the past week that Papa could probably use my blood to make some of his famous tiramisu, so even though I’m freaking exhausted, there’s no way I can fall asleep just yet. I need something to relax me, so here I am..”

“Seriously, dude,” Nino added, “When you told us what you were doing, I thought you’d finally fallen off the deep end. I mean, you’ve got to be crazy to try to design and sew a photoshoot ready outfit for one of the biggest rock and roll stars in the world in just a week!” His avatar, a bright green design with black goggles covering the cockpit, threw up a translucent energy shield over his clanmates that glowed with an ethereal green light, easily blocking the incoming attack of an enemy captain.

“Hey!” Marinette yelled at her friend as she rushed toward the mini-boss, swords flashing as her cherry red mecha closed the distance and she engaged with the enemy. “You make it sound like you didn’t think I could do it.”

“It’s not that, my lady,” soothed Adrien, aka Chat Noir. “We all had faith that you’d get the job done purrfectly.” His onyx mecha landed next to Ladybug, his staff whirling, performing a perfectly choreographed combo attack with his partner in battle. “Fur real, we were just concerned that purrhaps you had kitten off more than you could chew and ended up burning yourself out.”

She closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself. She could literally hear how smug Chat Noir was through her headphones. “For the sake of what little sanity I have left after this week, please don’t start with the cat puns, Chat.”

“Why, I’m feline a little offended here, bugaboo,” he teased. “I’m just saying that there’s no one else who clawed pull what you did off.”

“That last one was a bit of a stretch, kitty.” She should just ignore him, she knew that. You’d think she would have learned by now that when she responded to his bad jokes and ridiculous puns, he layed it on even thicker, just to annoy her. “Seriously though, I didn’t have much of a choice! You should have seen what the stylist wanted Jagged to wear. It was just,” she shuddered just thinking about it, “terrible.”

Rena asked, “How bad? Come on, girl, gimme some details!”

“Ugh, it makes me sick just thinking about it. Imagine Jagged Stone, wearing a powder blue, see-through lace romper..” Her three friends howled with laughter at the mental image she conjured, so she continued to describe the nightmare she had seen in full detail. “Just picture it: THE Jagged Stone, clad in skintight lace booty shorts, white fishnet stockings, and silver glitter loafers. They wanted to stuff him into a silver speedo underneath that ridiculous romper. That’s all! Nothing but a silver speedo and translucent baby blue lace!” she snorted with laughter as she remembered how utterly uncomfortable the poor singer had been when he showed her what the record label wanted him to wear for his promotional photo shoot. “Oh my god, it was awful! I wish I could unsee that sight, but it’s now burned into my memory to haunt me until the day I die. I couldn’t very well say no to his pleading after I saw that abomination.”

“Ladybug,” Chat Noir tried to calm down enough to talk, but he was obviously having a hard time since he had let his guard down and had been killed in the battle. He used his respawn time to finally compose himself enough to continue. “As a life long Jagged Stone fan, you have my eternal gratitude for sparing the public from that visual crime against humanity.” He dissolved into another fit of giggles, causing a chain reaction among their friends once again and distracting them from the battle currently underway.

“I know.” Marinette took a deep breath. “And here I thought that they couldn’t possibly come up with a worse marketing strategy after that whole “perfume ad album cover” debacle. Yeah, I was wrong. This was much, MUCH worse,” she scoffed.

They all laughed hysterically for a few more minutes before they were able to calm themselves enough to carry on their conversation.

“By the way, milady, are you going to be participating in Fashion Week next month?” Chat asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’ve finally garnered enough of a reputation as a legitimate designer for my collection to be allowed to participate in the newcomer designer showcase on the last day. I’ve got my collection finalized, so all I need to do is sit down at my machine and make the pieces.” Her fingers flew over the buttons of her controller, sowing a path of destruction in her avatar’s wake onscreen as a new wave of enemies arrived to back up their leader. “Now that I’m done with the Jagged Stone’s request, I’ve got the time to work on my showcase designs.” With a final flourish, she and Chat Noir defeated the enemy captain, leaving Rena Rouge and Carapace to deal with the reinforcements.

The gathered the mission rewards and traveled back to their base.

“Hey, Ladybug,” Rena began, “have you selected the models you’d like to walk in your show? I’m sure Kitty Noir over here would be more than happy to help you out if you need.”

While Alya understood that Adrien and Marinette would probably only be “just good friends”, once a shipper, always a shipper. Over the years, she still created opportunities for her two friends to be alone together in the hopes that something would spark between them and her OTP ship could set sail. Was it wrong to ship your friends? She didn’t think so. Nino disapproved of her antics at times, but she just couldn’t help it. She wanted her friends to be happy and in her mind, they were made for each other.

Marinette had tried convincing her friend that she was more than happy with the relationship she had with the handsome, blond model. She was more at ease with him now and he could be himself around her, even if that did include his utterly atrocious sense of humor. Seriously, the guy’s obsession with puns was borderline unhealthy.

“I’d love to wear your designs again, My Lady,” he purred.

“Won’t you be busy walking in your father’s show?”

“The Agreste show is on the first day. I’ll have plenty of free time after that. All you’ll have to do is get me some of your dad’s famous macaroons as payment.”

She was ecstatic. Having a famous model like Adrien Agreste would bring people flocking to her show, even if it was to see him, not her designs. But since he’d be the one wearing her clothes, it’d be like killing two birds with one stone. “You have a deal!” she squealed.

His chuckle echoed in her ears. “Honestly, I’m getting the better end of the deal. Don’t underestimate the power your family’s bakery has.”

“Awesome,” Alya cheered. “You’ve got your male model. Do you need a female model too or have you found one already?”

“Actually, I texted Juleka Couffaine and asked her if she’d be interested and she said that she’d do it,” she said. “I haven’t really spoken to her since high school since we kind of lost touch with each other, but I’ve seen some of the ads she’s sone and I think she’d be a good fit for the theme of my collection. She’s out of the country at the moment on a job, but she should be back sometime next week, so until then I can get started on what you’ll be wearing, Kitty.”

“Sounds good, Bugga-boo. I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with. Your designs are always so pawsome. I can’t wait to wear them for you on the catwalk.”

She shook her head once more at his antics. “I’ll give you the last one, since that’s a legitimate pun.” Alya and Nino’s laughter rang in her ears as they laughed at their friends’ banter.

“You know, we were wondering if you’d be online tonight, Ladybug, since you’ve been MIA all week.” Alya said. “The others were asking about you since they hadn’t heard from you, but I told them you’d be on when you were done with your work.” There was a brief silence before she teased, “Viperion was especially worried about you. He said how you guys had done some grinding the other night wondered where you had disappeared to since you’re usually on every night..”

The idea of Viperion worrying about her caused warmth to blossom in her chest. To be honest, she had missed the calming effect his presence had on her. “Speaking of which, where is he? Did he say he was going to be playing tonight?”

Nino told her that he had spoken to him earlier in the day and that he would probably be on much later, if at all because he would be working late on a project that he had to completely redo.

A little disappointed that she wouldn’t get to play with her online friend, Marinette decided to call it a night and logged out, finally ready to get some much needed sleep.

 Chapter 07

*Sorry for the delay on posting. This chapter is just kind of a transition chapter, so unfortunately, not much is going on, but I really wanted cat puns and mental images of hard rockers in blue lace rompers hahaha. Next chapter will pick up and our sweet boi will get some screen time. I might even stop torturing him and throw him a bone ;D Until next time, Lovelies XOXO*

[self-shipping-angel]

3, 4, 7, 8 with Jamie (Marvel)

Yeeeeee! Thank you!!

3. Who came up with the name(s)? And why were they given that name?

So the funny thing is Jamie was originally going to be named James. The doctor told us she was going to be a boy and Steve was so excited! We were going to name "him" James Nicholas after Bucky and my adopted dad, Nick Fury. But when she was born and we saw she  was a girl, we changed her name to Jamie Natasha (after my adopted sister Natasha Romanoff).

4. Who takes after who in terms of appearance and personality?

Appearance wise she definitely takes after me; she inherited her cat demon traits from me and while her hair isnt as red as mine, I think it'll brighten up as she gets older. But personality wise, she is definitely Steve's daughter.

7. How well do they get along with other family members?

She gets along with everyone fairly well, but she can be pretty sassy. She always has a good time when she stays with her pops, Nick; he loves to spoil her even though we've asked him not to do things like letting her eat cookies for dinner.

8. What are their likes, dislikes and hobbies?

She loves anything that gets her moving: climbing trees, swimming, exploring the woods around our house, etc. She doesnt like dress, brocolli, spiders, or bullies (just like her daddy.

[mariliyaa]

Omg just cycled your whole art thing on Twitter and got such klance/KrBk feels and now I yearn for a Voltron AU of BNHa with red Paladin bakugo(Fire) and gold Paladin Kiri (earth) Like kiris bayards could be gauntlets with yellow energy claws and a shield force field they can project when he smashes them together and Bakugo’s can be red versions of his costume gloves that launch glowing red explosive energy spheres. Maybe todo blue Deku green? ^_^ bless your art for inspiring! ^_^

Oh-my gosh?? I- firsrt of all THANK YOU!! For looking at all my drawings on twitter ;3; Kiribaku being my main OTP for a year now, and Klance sneak into my life in the past few months *^* and OH MY STARS the spark of mejestic concept you just drop, wow!! Im ao greatful i could inspire this!! Thank you so so so much for that!! Thats amazing ~~

Please! You! Or someone!! Create this AU! (God knows i would love, but my list is full till 2020 and byond XD)

[lostinfantasies38]

OC Aesthetic Tag: Sirra Brosca

My current OTP with Alistair during the Fifth Blight!  OMG - so much yes!  She’s kind of a mess, but that’s why I love her.  She is so relatable, at least I hope other people think so. 

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. cobalt blue. lime green.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. magic.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. lean. piercings. tattoos. lithe. moles. dimples. stretch marks.  long hair. medium hair.  short hair.  pixie.  shaved head.  bald. coarse.  fine.    

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. grenades.  tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. pyre. teeth. rifles. words.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amber. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. jade.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. poppies. galaxies. stardust. sky.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. livestock. foxes. bluebirds. jackals.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. bitter. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. french fries. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. history. libraries. books. comic books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. flight. climbing. running. freerunning. exploring. partying. yoga.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. hoops. pendant. hat. flower crown. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ties. uniform. fancy shoes. leather jacket. sport underwear.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. kisses. diary. fairy lights. hard. soft. madness. sanity. sadness. bittersweet. happiness. luck. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. revenge. lust. regrets. passion. spontaneity. potty mouth. recklessness. practicality.

I tag: anyone who wants  to do it! Thanks @shield-maiden-of-sherwood  this was super fun to fill out :)

source: annorarutherford

@kittimau and anyone else!  Art by the great @kittimau​

[moderately-ok-trash-bin]

Three OTP Questions

So I just kinda spontaneously decided to write this for my two favourite OCs because if I don’t force myself to talk about them now then I never will. Sooo here’s the first one, my Altmer Dragonborn Aradove.

1) How did they first meet?

‘Must keep going. Must remain vigilant. Dragons, the Thalmor, the Imperials, bandits, beasts... any or all of them could appear at any time. I won’t be truly safe in this land until I can make it so. Rid Skyrim of the dragons and the tyrants, show her people they can trust me, and show my people that peace and coexistence is possible. Then I can go home... then I can rule a land of prosperity and growth, instead of a land of foolish supremacy and cruelty. I’ve been given this power by the Divines, and I’ve been given it for a reason. It is up to me, and me alone, to end the cycle of senseless violence that has plagued Tamriel...’

It was thoughts like this dominating my mind as I rushed through the forests and cliffs of the Rift. While I couldn’t help but feel excitement at the rush of the wind, the smell of the trees and the river, and the sounds of the untouched wilds all around me, the weight of my purpose kept my face unflinching as stone. Ever since I’d fled Summerset and, after narrowly evading execution upon reaching Skyrim, learned that I was the prophesied Dragonborn, things had been different. I was no longer a disillusioned princess with no desire to be the figurehead of a regime that rejected all ways of life but their own, but a destined hero who must bring about a new age. And this was a destiny I knew I must take seriously. It is up to me to herald in a new peace for both those it is my birthright to rule, and those is is my birthright to save. That is all that matters. Nothing less than that would satisfy me.

My head snapped to the side when I heard a faint but deep snarl in some nearby grass. I drew one of my two steel swords, and in my free hand, sent a fire bolt hurtling at the Sabre cat that now charged at me from its hiding spot. The animal screeched with rage as the flame hit the side of its face, but it did not slow, leaping into the air to attack me. I narrowly blocked its huge paws with my blade as it landed, deftly shoving it to the side and drawing my other sword in my free hand. As it dashed in to try and rake me with its claws, I inhaled sharply and, focusing my energy into my voice, I used my Shout. ‘Fus’ echoed slightly around us as the beast staggered, giving me the opening I needed to move in and put my swords through the animal’s chest.

I stepped back, briefly wondering if I’d ever get used to the feeling of using my Shouts. They were unlike anything I’d ever felt, some deep, complex knowledge in my very soul that manifested as power. This was the Divines’ gift to me, the gift that uniquely allows me to deliver this world from calamity... I’d never before imagined that such a power could exist in me...

I suddenly became acutely aware of the reality of my current situation. I’d been careless, lost in thought in the middle of the wilderness after using the most attention-grabbing power at my disposal. I’d let my guard down. I was vulnerable.

Too late.

The second Sabre cat slammed its paws into my chest and nearly knocking the wind out of me as I whirled around, claws digging into my leather armour as I winced and dropped one sword, hastily bringing the other one up toward my face. I heard the clang of bone against metal as I barely managed to put my sword between the animal’s massive teeth and my throat. I tried to push it off of me, but to no avail. It had me pinned and I was in no position to use any of its strength or even my own against it so I could get up and fight on. Magic wouldn’t work either, as I needed to keep both hands on my weapon to keep the creature at bay.

I felt my heart drop in fear. Would this thing tire before me? I was already straining to keep pushing it back at the poor angle I was forced into, would it tire before me? How long would I need to stay here? What if it outlasted me and I died here? A chorus of ‘no’ echoed within me, yet try as I might to Shout again, the power still needed time to recharge. I winced as the pressure on my chest began to register at the same time that I tried to push the Sabre cat off, closing my eyes tightly to try and distract myself from the peril of my situation, instead focusing all of my energy into trying to escape and save myself. I had no idea how long I was there. A second? Two minutes? Didn’t matter. I only snapped back to my senses when I heard a muffled cry of pain from the Sabre cat, followed by the complete removal of the pressure crushing my chest as I opened my eyes to watch the beast slump over, a shining steel greatsword being pulled from its side.

I sat up, and after looking to the Sabre cat that had just nearly ended my life just to make sure it was truly dead, I gazed up to see who it was that had come to my rescue. What I saw triggered a landslide of things within me that I could not begin to understand.

My mysterious saviour was a Nord man with dark brown hair and a short beard. Black war paint framed his eyes like tear-streaked eyeliner. He wore a type of armour I’d never seen before, with more furs and a more brownish tone of metal, and some metal wolf heads adorning the torso. After briefly looking him over, I gazed back up toward his eyes, and I became distinctly aware of both his disdainful expression, and the Imperial woman in studded armour behind him. I tried to find the words to say, but before I could, he addressed me.

“Are you alright? That thing was damned close to ripping your throat out.” Instinct told me to bite back and tell him he had no idea who he was talking to, but I refrained, only just remembering I needed to keep my identity a secret.

“I’m fine. The thing simply caught me the second I dropped my guard,” I replied, attempting to keep my composure despite the strange feelings welling within me. My face felt warm and my heart was beating faster. I glanced to the ground, briefly wondering if I’d contracted a disease from one of the Sabre cats...

“Hmph. You can’t just be complacent out here, elf. Do that, and you’re sure to get torn apart,” he sneered, my face flushing further as I looked at the annoyed expression on his face. I gritted my teeth subtly at the implication that I was just being foolish.

“I’m not a fool, I know that. It was simply bad timing to lose focus. There’s been much on my mind these past few days,” I replied, standing up and sheathing my blades.

“Hah. An off day, hmm? Of course.” I could feel the sarcasm dripping from his words, his disbelief in my abilities clear. I decided it was time to take the focus off of me, before I felt like I needed to give a demonstration.

“Those matters aside... I must thank you for saving me. You have my deepest gratitude. May I ask who you are?” I inquired, attempting to summon up the regal politeness that was drilled into me as I grew up. The man stood with a certain sense of indignance and pride as he introduced himself.

“My name is Vilkas, a member of the Companions in Whiterun. This is my Shield-Sister, Ria. We of the Companions fight for honour, glory and coin. We take the burdens of people who don’t feel up to defending their own honour,” he said confidently. I had heard mention of the Companions before, both rumour and small talk in Whiterun, and the famous Five Hundred Companions of Ysgramor from my history lessons. Things had changed drastically over time, it would seem. Yet this thought’s importance in my mind paled in comparison to the still-rapid beating of my heart. Something about looking at this man gave me such a rush. I had no idea what I was feeling, and at that point I was beginning to fear it. All I knew was that I needed to get away, and quickly.

“I see. Once again, many thanks for coming to my rescue. I must now return to my travel, but know that I will not forget your help.” I turned to leave, Vilkas giving me a nod of acknowledgement as I walked away. Once I had passed through enough forest to be out of his sight, I leaned against a tree, bringing one hand to my chest and the other to my still-red face.

‘What on Nirn is this feeling...?’

2) What did they think of each other at first?

Aradove was immediately attracted to Vilkas, but she had no idea what she was feeling at first, so she was suspicious of him because of the effect he had on her until she figured out what it was. Vilkas, on the other hand, thought Aradove was just some stupid elf too full of herself to be aware of danger.

3) Were they immediately interested/attracted or did that come later?

Aradove yes, definitely. Vilkas though, only began to take a shine to her as she rose through the ranks of the Companions later on in her story and proved herself strong, honourable and level-headed.

——————————

Oh my god I did it. I wrote a whole OC post. And I don’t hate it. Whattt

@hircines-hunting-grounds @curiousartemis

Idk what do you guys think? I hope you liked it :)

[felicia-parker]

batcat for 22?

#22 “You smell nice.”The silent alarm was triggered exactly six minutes ago, she dangles slightly, twisting upside down just to catch his shadow at the right moment. Selina uses her legs to hold herself steady to the pipe overhead, cat ears catching the moonlight outside as she hangs upside down with her gaze inches from his own.“You’re getting slow you know,” She taunts him with a smirk curling at the corner of her painted lips. She rocks slightly, back and forth, almost like a child on a playground toy. Gotham City is her playground after all, she feels the need to make it as fun as possible as she dangles before the infamous Batman. “What are you doing Cat?” He asks, voice gruff as always cutting right from the chase to the point. It almost makes her pout, she does love when he chases, only tonight she lets it slide. Instead of answering him right away she reaches into her pouch and pulls out a pendant. It’s golden and bright against her black claws as she lets it dangle now between them, letting it twist and turn in front of him. He sighs just loud enough for her to hear it and he looks around.They’re both inside of a wealthy jewelry store, everything is shielded with high tech glass and locked up for the night. None of it looks broken and the closer he looks at the necklace in her hand he can tell it’s old. It’s not new and he doesn’t feel like it’s stolen, but he keeps the latter to himself as he reaches for it. Selina doesn’t let him have it right away, instead snatching it away to hold it to her chest. Bruce steps closer. They have about three minutes until Gotham’s finest begin to show up, red and blue lights with their sirens screaming to lull the city into a false sense of security. Selina tilts her head to the side a bit, ears crossing his in the shadow, “You smell nice.” “Enough with the game, Selina.” He doesn’t crack a smile. His stoic form barely moves at all, he stares at her like he can do his own stealing, waiting to whisk away all her secrets. She raises a brow to him and slowly lets her legs untwist from overhead. With practice ease she drops down and lands silently in front of him, partially crouched with her knees bent before standing to her full height.“This was left in my private mailbox, I can’t get it open.”“So you commit breaking and entering just to open an old locket?” Bruce tilts his head just to hear her laugh sharp and beguiling. “Don’t be ridiculous. I want you to open it. I just needed your attention.” She swings the pendent between her palms, lazily going back and forth with it like she’s going to hypnotize him. Bruce shifts forward, moving a hand out to take the necklace once more but she keeps it, so he slides his hand along the line of her forearm and holds to the bend of her elbow, “You have my number.”Selina steps in a little closer, tilting her head up and pressing the lightest of kisses to the exposed underside of his jaw, “This was much more fun.”SEND ME ONE OF THESE & AN OTP