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bitchfitch · 1 year

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Facing fate was difficult when you were young. Expectations could crush you beneath their heel. Your back would snap from the duty you did not ask for being put on your shoulders. Then there was the pain of knowing you never had a choice in the matter. It was all fated. You never had a choice.

As a old cook more than a little used to it though... Well, it was a lot of the same issue but with more knee problems and less ability to give a shit about any of it.

Jeremiah's ancient little sedan trundled up the gravel stone path of his driveway. The thing was running on fumes after he spent the last hour or so burning the last of the fuel driving in slow circles through the back roads around his rural home. A last bit of rebellion and revelry in the life he'd found here before he went and faced the music.

The evil he had fought as a young man would rise in his home world once more, the binds he had put on it having grown weak with time. His self imposed exile had bought so much more of it, allowing him to pop in every couple hundred years to spruce up the place before fucking back off to his peaceful life with pockets full of real gold coins and lavish jewelry that no one ever mentioned when he returned. But no longer would he be able to do that. He was old now, his life would soon find it's close and it was high time he found a successor to take over his work. He just hoped they wouldn't be as willing to isolate themselves as he was.

He stepped out of his car after parking it, hesitating on every step as he reminisced and fussed over problems that had not yet come. His red brick home with it's black roof and dense covering of ivy was the perfect place for an old man to say good bye. But, but, why was his bedroom window boarded up? He'd been gone a few weeks on this last sabbatical but Surely nothing Too bad could have happened? Gwyn, his roommate he found so someone could inherit this place and look after it when he was gone, must have just... broken it. For some reason.

The door to his home slammed open, Gwyn looked beyond furious with him. He stalked with enough malace towards the man he didn't know was a feared and respected sorcerer of unimaginable power that it had Jeremiah taking a step back. Impressive considering Gwyn was a slight creature who looked the definition of 'bookish'.

"Hello, what happened to my window -" Jeremiah might not get to find an apprentice if the shade of anger red Gwyn turned was anything to go by.

"You Absolute Mother Fucker."

"It's nice to see you too, Gwyn. How's Jeremiah the frog? I presume you were both well in my absence?"

"I'd say you have a lot of fucking explaining to do, but unfortunately I think I've already Pieced it all together," he points towards the door with a glare that is not to be ignored. Jeremiah decides to hesitate less and walk more.

"Do help an old man out, what has happened?" he turns to cast a glance over his shoulder at Gwyn as he passes the threshold into his home, "I'm not as fast as I used to be, you'll understand when you're..." he trails off as he faces back the way was walking and very abruptly realizes what the issue might be.

A nacyl, a sort of very large wolf person who were not uncommon in Jeremiah's homeland, was stood in the doorway to his kitchen. The poor man had to hunch to fit in the low cielinged space, but his expression was one of pure 'doneness' as Gwyn would put it. Wholey accepting of the situation at hand and beyond the point of caring. He wore greaves and what seemed to be one of Gwyn's old oversized sleep shirts. A garment that fit Gwyn like a very loose, short dress but which fit this nacyl like an extremely tight cropped tee. He was holding a cereal bowl of canned spaghetti product and a spoon that was comically small in his big furry mitts.

"Ah, a visitor. How nice. Gwyn you could have just said we had company," Jeremiah was too old for any sort of high adrenaline activity, but angering Gwyn to such a degree was starting to give him the same high active battle once did. "A emissary of Bustmala I presume? Oh I know I was dragging my feet a bit but I didn't expect such... a comfortable looking envoy."

"Sorcerer. You have my greetings," the nacyl rumbled before shuffling off to go sit on the ratty grey couch. Given the amount of fur on it the fellow must have been here for at least few days and had made his claim to it in that time.

"Human Jeremiah."

"Oh. You're using the full name huh? I didn't think you the sort who would be so cross over having a visitor."

"That's not why I'm mad. If he'd just shown up Yeah I'd be a Little upset, but mostly wowed by the whimsy of finding out my Roommate is a Legendary Wizard. That would have been cool. What Wasn't cool was getting surprise teleported to an entire other universe because You were late and they were desperate. They Thought I was You, Human Jeremiah."

"I didn't think being mistaken for me would be this much of an insult to you."

"I was trapped there for Weeks. I didn't know if Jeremiah was alive or dead in his tank! I had," he whips around to point at the nacyl, who was doing a very good job at pretending to not listen while he ate his canned spaghetti product despite his ears being quirked their way, "That Asshole breathing down my neck and trying to stop me Leaving. Thank God the sorceress they found to try and keep the show going while you were MIA could send me home. Unfortunately," he gestures to the nacyl with more emphasis, "That Asshole got teleported back with me. We didn't know You were the one they were looking for. For Days we just had to Wait out what we thought was going to be the end of the world!"

"I assume his name isn't 'that asshole'"

"It's Commander Conrí Katona, sir," that asshole piped in.

"We only figured it out because he was Sulking so bad about it I offered to let him borrow one of your-" he puts his hands up to do very exaggerated air quotes "-Fiction," he repeats the action a few more times for emphasis, "Books."

"Is that what happened to my window?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. Got handed the bedtime story book I read to my kids, who I haven't seen in weeks and who I thought were all dead. Realized what had happened. Threw it."

"Shut up! Both of you! I wasn't able to learn that much while stuck there because of Someone-"

"That wasn't my fault."

"- So all I was able to gather from your stupid collection of Mystic Fucking Tomes was that We might get to choose a time to go back too. You know, before your home world Ends? Is that right? Or are the two of us about to get mauled by that chuckle fuck?"

"You've known my name longer than him."

"Shut it!"

Jeremiah stared at him with a neutral expression.

"Are you just not going to say anything?"

"If I recall correctly you told me to 'Shut Up'."

"Don't do this right now. Just fucking Don't."

"Sigh. Commander, do you know if this sorceress used the charge on my teleportation charm I'd set up in preparation for my return to summon our calm headed friend?" he wishes he could bottle the expression on Gwyn's face.

"I couldn't tell you. Exac'coso didn't bother to say what she was doing to the muscle. My job was just to make sure no one gave you trouble until you were ready for the grand skirmish. Not to question her."

"Ah. Did she have a large sorta plinth looking thing with her at the time of her attempt? 'Bout yay high, dark stone, hums ominously."

"Yes sir, she did."

"That complicates things... But, but, So long as we move fast I'm sure we can gather the necessary supplies to get everyone back where they belong."

"When would we be returning, sir?"

"Well, if I have my way we'll be back soon enough for you to tuck your kidlets in without them having to go a single night bedtime storyless."

The tension Conrí had carried without Jeremiah even noticing he was doing so left him so abruptly that there was a moment both humans briefly thought he was fainting.

Gwyn would have presumed it was from the relief of knowing he wouldn't be returning to children who didn't remember him as anything but an abandoner, or worse, that he'd be returning to a world where they were all long since killed in the turmoil to follow the reawakening.

Jeremiah would have presumed it was because of the canned spaghetti product. That can't be a good thing for a dog man to be eating, and knowing Gwyn there was a non zero chance it was all the poor sap had been fed while in their home. Jeremiah would have fainted himself if he was forced to live off that glop for any period of time regardless of the situation he was in.

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brw · 1 year

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Thanks for the sending an asks for the ship meme! Now it's my turn, here you go: Steve Rogers/Hank Pym for the ship ask.

big spoon/little spoon: honestly Hank likes to big spoon even if he's much smaller & skinnier, it looks slightly ridiculous when he does but Steve spooning is like. too much. Steve is a very large man.

favorite non-sexual activity: I think they both like to watch baseball together or read together, Steve reads fantasy & Hank reads either science related journals or some Batman comics

who uses all the hot water: neither of them really, both of them were raised poor so they're very conscious of the scarcity of hot water, and neither of them seem the type to take long showers.

most trivial thing they fight over: Steve leaving his shield in stupid positions, Hank ahs definitely slipped at least twice, and Hank inviting bugs in & not getting them to leave.

who does most of the cleaning: Steve, Hank can clean but only does when he's like. properly medicated & hydrated which is very rarely otherwise he just forgets or is too stressed to get started on it.

what has a season pass on their dvr/who controls the netflix queue: Hank probably, he watches more TV I think than Steve

who calls up the super/landlord when the heat's not working: hmm....... I mean obviously normally it's not a problem but I think Hank, both of them have a grit your teeth and just deal with it mentality but Hank has a lower threshold for that

who steals the blankets: Hank , he's a restless sleeper & Steve sleeps like the dead.

who leaves their stuff around: honestly Steve I think... he's more likely dropping everything & running out to save the day, that said Hank does accidentally shrink things & forget about them a lot so he does it a lot too.

who remembers to buy the milk: Steve, Hank only really remembers stuff like very specific brands of cereal one of his many kids prefers but forgets you eat cereal with milk while Steve approaches the supermarket with the same determination & strategy of a battlefield

who remembers anniversaries: Steve more often , Hank has probably forgotten his own birthday

Who cooks normally? Hank, Steve grew up under ration times&the Great Depression & it fucking shows.

How often do they fight? Not all that often, but often enough, I think generally they're both understanding of each other but I think Steve struggles to understand why Hank can't do certain things or struggles to do them at times while I think sometimes Steve's practicality towards everything grates on Hank if he's already in a bad mood.

What do they do when they're away from each other? Hank does science and talks to insects, Steve gives inspirational speeches to anyone in near vicinity & continues his endless task of getting into modern day media.

Nicknames for each other? Cap, obviously, is a big one, I think Hank would also call Steve sweetheart and would like, call him doll once as a joke but starts unironically calling him that too which Steve hates just a little, I don't think Steve calls Hank a lot of nicknames but he might call him baby when he's stressed out.

Who is more likely to pay for dinner? Hank I think, Steve doesn't remember to bring a credit card at all.

What would they get each other for gifts? Steve tries really hard to give stuff that Hank actually likes, like spends takes quietly conversing with Jan & Victor Mancha & everyone who's close with Hank to figure out what he likes to get him, which Hank appreciates. Hank probably like. manages to track down a piece of lost media from the 30s & 40s which Steve wasn't even into that much but the amount of dedication & determination it takes for that stuff does touch Steve emotionally quite a bit.

Who kissed who first? You know, I'm not sure. I think I'll go with Hank, like in an impulsive spur of the moment & Steve was into it.

Who made the first move? Steve I think , generally, Hank would very easily break his own heart by not talking about his own feelings ever.

Who remembers things? Steve , I mean canonically has the photographic memory

Who started the relationship? I think Steve kind of started the whole dating thing but in terms of like, defining their relationship, I think that was Hank.

Who cusses more? Hank absolutely swears so often. Steve wants to but rarely allows himself to.

What would they do if the other was hurt? I mean to a point both of them are pretty used to the other getting beaten, so mostly hanging out with each other at the hospital & making sure they're okay & have everything they want :)

Domestic ship ask prompt

#tysm for asking!!!#esteicy-blog #shieldant #hank pym #steve rogers #ask games} answers

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blazing-destiny · 1 year

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I posted 58 times in 2022

30 posts created (52%)

28 posts reblogged (48%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@pmd-waveringfate

@blazing-destiny

@askappos

@llndeascorner

@asksavel

I tagged 55 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

#pokemon hybrid - 20 posts

#pokemon fusion - 20 posts

#dragonair - 13 posts

#eeveelution - 13 posts

#pikachu - 13 posts

#pokeaskmusicfestival2022 - 12 posts

#odin dragonair - 12 posts

#latias - 12 posts

#brynn glaceon - 11 posts

#glaceon - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 41 characters

#i think i'll take a brief break from plot

My Top Posts in 2022:

Lunch @ Odin+Brynn: LUNCH!!! *Lunch flaps his wingies and hops around the duo. It looks like he’s wondering if they’ll dance with him!*

The glaceon chuckles watching the galarian zapdos hop around the pair

B: I think they want to dance with us, Odin dear.

O: Uhhh, dancing isn't really my forte.....besides without arms and legs, I can't really do much...

B: Oh, come on sour noodle, anyone can dance

Brynn replies, joining Lunch in his hopping, this time around Odin who grumbles

10 notes - Posted September 3, 2022

(Shaymincafe) Scabiosa @ Odin: A dragon, hm? Interesting… *surveys the others in the area for a moment before returning attention to Odin* Have you come here for… recreational ventures? Music or the arts perhaps? You seem a bit… agitated at being here.

@shaymincafe

Odin sighs, looking to the shaymin with a saddened expression

It's not that I'm agitated being here; it's more my unease. I am weary of the young mons I left behind. I know my job was to escort them to their destination, but I can't help feeling obligated to stay with them.....especially Darren. He's going to have to should an even bigger responsibility than managing a guild; in fact, all four will. I just want to watch over them as long as I can.

Odin pauses, thinking about the past events, shaking his head after a while

Uhg maybe Brynn was right. I should focus on relaxing for now. We will see Darren and the others again; for now, I need to regain my strength.

11 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

(neverlandfaerai) Akova@Vayu+Capala:

They drifted by on the passing wind, lazily leaned back as if lounging on an invisible chair and their arms folded back to support their head.

“My my, aren’t you two the intriguing bunch. Do you know of each other from this village you spoke of? Related perhaps? Or are you the little one’s babysitter?”

@neverlandfaerai @ask-lifebeforedeath

Vayu looked at Ori for a moment before shaking her head and responding

"Capala and I are blood siblings, born and raised in the same village I mentioned. Sadly there is no one left in the village....."

While Vayu spoke, Capala tried to nap a spoon off the whimsicott's collection

"My home used to be filled with people, and yes, even a village head, until.....the accident."

Vayu clenched her eyes shut as if holding back tears

"Now it's just Capala and me. I have to watch over him and the temple. What's inside could change the very fate of the world. I can't let anyone in except the guardians; it's been my family's job for centuries. Everyone in my village was tasked to do so, and now that responsibility falls on me, and soon after Capala."

Vayu nabs Capala with psychic placing him down near Odin

"It's up to me to carry the torch. And I intend to see it through

13 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

Vekpa @ Odin+Brynn: I SEE MY KID WAS BOTHERING YOU TWO…. I APOLOGIZE…. BY THE WAY… I’m not sure if you’ve tried any food yet but BEWARE…. Some of it is WAY TOO BIG…

Odin, who wasn't paying attention, yelped, quickly turning around with an annoyed stare

Odin: Hng, do you have to be so loud! We're right her-

Brynn quickly covers his mouth, chuckling softly

Brynn: It's quite alright. He was a delight, I haven't had a good dance party in a while heh. I think Odin here enjoyed it the most Odin shakes the glaceon's paw off grumbling

As far as the food I haven't seen any comically large food. Where can we find it?

14 notes - Posted September 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

As the gang traveled across the water toward Vayu's home, Darren was relaxing, lying down against the lapras' neck

I hope we get there soon....I don't want to keep them wai-

Suddenly Darren shoots up, gasping loudly, much to the surprise of the group

Vayu: Darren, are you ok?!

The raboot remained silent, looking up at the sky, the biggest smile sewen across his face

Darren: Yeah.....I'm fine.....just fine

Darren lies back down, closing his eyes

I hope you reached a lot of people, just like you reached me.

(A lil response to @asksavel and their Light Of Hope Event!)

19 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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being-of-rain · 2 years

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Some thoughts from my Classic Who watch. It’s the end... (of season 18.)

Warriors’ Gate is a weird one! Sometimes I worry that I’m the audience member that people complain has to be spoon-fed the plot, but I can follow some stories that people call confusing just fine if it dedicates a moment to explain things clearly. I didn’t really feel like I got that with Warriors’ Gate. There’s a void in the place between times, with an entrance to a castle which in the past was home to a space empire, and everyone could move between the times through the mirrors? I don’t know. Oh well. The character writing on the other hand is really good. The crew of the spaceship were great villains. I could tell they’d be fun from the first scene when one crewmember announces “We have liftoff,” and the comic relief guys give the most half-hearted cheer ever. Romana’s exit was even quicker than I remember, literally during a ticking-clock getaway. I’m glad they sort of built up to it with the ‘avoiding Gallifrey’ plot, because otherwise it would be laughably bad. As it is, it’s just a shame to see her and the Doctor part so suddenly after they’d been such a large part of each other’s lives. Also, farewell K9. He left the show as he lived in it: breaking down again.

I really do get a large sense of tragedy, watching The Keeper of Traken when I know how the season ends. Here’s a pretty paradise of a planet where the people are happy and the leader asks the Doctor for help. And within 8 episodes the Master will have destroyed it all. That being said, and though I do love some sci-fi political drama, the politicians on Traken suck. Poor Kassia gets so much shit from co-workers who claim to look up to her as a spiritual leader in one sentence and call her crazy in the next. She deserves a break. And the guy who hastily took up the most powerful role of Keeper at the end was totally useless and should not be in charge of a whole planet, he wouldn’t even be my first pick from the literally two remaining Consuls. Nyssa doesn’t get a lot of focus for her first story, did they even know she would go on to be a companion when they wrote it? One of the first time you see her standing up to someone is when she uses her family’s status and bribery to get some armed guards to disperse a crowd who aren’t doing anything illegal, which she seems concerningly comfortable with. Are Nyssa and Adric going to bond over being in the elite? Is Tegan going to represent The Common Man in the new team? Things I liked about the story: the set and the outfits! It made Traken a great setting. Also, Geoffrey Beevers!! Even with an effect over it, I was excited to recognise his voice. And it’s such a great voice too, I’m so glad he went on to do so many Big Finish audios.

Logopolis is an interesting one. Some interesting sci-fi concepts, or magical concepts wearing thin guise of science, and I do love that. I’m always happy when block transfer computation turns up. I think I followed it all a little better than the last time I watched it- so the CVEs have been opened permanently and there doesn’t need to be a Logopolis anymore? That explains how Romana seems to have returned to Gallifrey in the EU without much difficulty. The story also fits together the pieces of the fifth Doctor’s first Tardis team. Tegan’s introduction is a little strange after listening to so many audios, because she’s so... happy. In her scenes before stepping aboard the Tardis, she’s portrayed as excited, upbeat in the face of her aunt’s grumbling, clumsy, and forgetful. It feels like a very different Tegan than you get in later stories and pretty much any EU content. But I can see how that Tegan comes about. In her first story (presumably piling on top of the stress of getting a flat tire on the way to a new job,) Tegan gets lost alone in an impossible endless maze, then finds herself trapped on an alien planet by a mysterious man who won’t answer any of her questions, and a teenager who will only answer them in an extremely obnoxious manner. Then she finds out her aunt is dead, then she has to work with the man who killed her in order to save the universe. She gets grumpy sometimes and upset sometimes, and honestly that’s better than I imagine I would fair on a day like that. And it makes me a little sad that it’s not her upbeat self, but her grumpy-at-being-kidnapped self that goes on to be her defining personality, in the actual show as much as any fan perception. But all that being said, Tegan also feels like a big part of the weakest aspect of the story, which to me is the emotional realism, or the lack of it. Her character backstory feels like it very much starts and ends with “air hostess,” as almost every situation gets an airplane-related quip or comparison from her, while her function in the story feels like it starts and ends with “another companion,” as she falls in with doing whatever the Doctor and co tell her to do extremely quickly. She bounces between complaining and happily accepting the situation a few times. In short, Tegan gets quite a bit of focus in the first episode, then the script seems to lose interest in her, to the detriment of its believability. Nyssa has a similar issue, what with her whole world being destroyed by a man who stole her father’s body, and her getting not a lot of time or lines to react to it. So yeah, that’s about Logopolis summed up for me. Much more interested in its science and plot than its characters and emotions, which is its strengths and weaknesses respectively. The exception is Tom Baker’s fantastic acting in his final story, feeling the weight of the universe on him, which makes for a great end for his character.

And then I watched A Girl’s Best Friend, which is obviously a mandatory part of the watchthrough. My brother and I joked that the K9 & Company series didn’t continue because Sarah had got almost the entire town arrested at the end. Can’t have a fun crowd in the pub when they’re all in jail. We also found it funny that Sarah’s aunt was thought to be missing the whole episode because Sarah claimed that running off without telling anyone wasn’t in-character for her... only for it to be revealed that that’s exactly what she did do, telling only one random person about it, who decided not to tell anyone else because... well he’s in an evil magic cult, so it would be a bit of a laugh to make others’ lives more confusing I guess.

#my thoughts #four #adric #romana #k9 #nyssa #tegan #sarah #master

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twdmusicboxmystery · 2 years

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1x05: Davon - Analysis, Part 2

Continuing the conversation about this very intriguing Tales episode, Davon. Read Part 1 HERE.

@wdway:

I'm going to give you my personal big finds for the episode. Yes, we have the PPP card and all the other goodies in this episode but we each have our own personal symbols that we're obsessed with. Guess what, two of my obsessions are together in this episode. I feel very confident that Channing Powell wants us to pick up on them because the camera lingers on them way too long for it to just be part of seem nondescript objects in a scene.

My 2 obsessions are spoons and hats.

For me it started in season 8 when we first saw Father Gabriel in the black version of comic Andreas comicbook white hat. We went from only seeing Glenn in a hat to seeing a multitude of people wearing them.

This season we have seen FG in the Andreas hat in e10, but we have seen him in a similar but more casual hat in e16.

More importantly we saw a hat in Daryl's apartment in s10e21 and this season e1 we actually saw him wearing a hat in the rain which made it very hard to see which I believe was the writer's intention.

We've seen a similar hat that Maggie wore a similar hat in s10 although we haven't seen that particular hat lately. There is another similar hat in the opening credits.

Now a few words about the spoon symbol. You all know this by heart already.

Beth picks up a Washington DC spoon in episode Still.

We saw Daryl almost comically using a spoon while eating during the Last Supper scene just before he loses Beth.

We saw the Washington DC spoon on the ground just before the black car white cross drove away.

We saw a spoon on the cabin floor in FM when Daryl returned and later left a note asking the universe for someone to find him.

After Daryl shot Leah in the head and left her for dead, we see a spoon on the floor in the top left corner of the camera frame. Side note: left side=Beth.

Back to the Tales episode, Davon. We see Amanda's son, Arnaud eating with a spoon in the doorway of Davon's room. The spoon was obviously large enough to be noticed but I don't think it was that important, I think this was a set up for later and a writer's tease.

In the graveyard scene when the crowd is about to get violent we see Arnaud wearing a hat.

At this point in the episode, we had seen both a spoon and a hat connected to Arnaud. I believe this is simply so when we see the hat and the spoon it is not as random and obvious what the true symbolism is, Daryl and Beth.

I'm going to show you a close up, cropped shot of the hat and spoon. Then I'm going to show you a series of shots with absolutely no cropping. It's obvious once you realize what the true attention the writer want you to go away with is the hat and spoon. The symbol of Daryl and Beth.

I present to you the hat and the spoon.

I have several other things that really stood out for me in the episode that I'll show shots from. These will not necessarily be in the order that we see them in the episode. Some of these I'll make comments on but others I would really love to hear what you guys think. I'm really looking forward to reading your reviews of the episode. You guys are much better at that type of thing, I'm more of an isolated image finder.

@twdmusicboxmystery

Love it! We say this all the time, but you have such eagle eyes! I don’t know that I would have ever seen the spoon next to the hat in that shot. But I love it.

I did have a few relatively vague thoughts so far (need to rewatch for more detail) and what you’ve all put above just reinforces them. In terms of templates, we have Davon being put into a car (red, as @frangipanilove pointed out) in which he should have died.

We don’t have the “left behind” element as we think happened with Beth, but it’s still a situation where he should have been a corpse inside a car, but that didn’t happen. He escaped relatively narrowly in an unexpected way, and lived, where people didn’t expect him to.

I was wondering why we would see the spoon with Arnaud, when he’s super evil and killing kids, and Beth would obviously be the opposite of that. Well, for one thing, he might simply be a foil to Beth. And as we discussed already, we have hints of the CRM (Heath-like character and PPP card) and a situation where children are in danger. So, it still screams Beth.

But the other thing is that really, Davon is more in the Beth role. Or even the Daryl role, if we have something where he goes looking for missing kids. Davon was looking in at what was happening, and he was in the savior role for the children. And even though the spoon wasn’t in the shot with him, we were seeing things through his eyes. (Je verrais: I see). But we never had Daryl escaping death in a vehicle like Beth, so I’m still thinking this is more of a Beth foreshadow/template.

The other thing that occurred to me is that the Davon/Nora relationship was ever-so-slightly like Daryl and Leah. Different personalities and situations, of course. But we have something where Davon thought he liked her, there was a spark there, and I think a lot of their interactions had some sincerity in them. But when things got really hairy, and push came to shove, she just wasn’t who he thought she was.

I think we’ll see more of Davon in the future, but I don’t think he would have stayed with that community. He simply couldn’t after that. Anyway, that’s about all I’ve got for now. Maybe I’ll have more after I watch it for a third time.

@wdway:

You mentioned that Davon wasn't left behind. But in a sense wasn't he? Everyone got busy with fighting with each other and that's when he slips away unnoticed. Wouldn't that be being left behind attention-wise? I agree that Arnaud could simple be a foil to Beth but I also think that there's a strong possibility that he is also used as a means to get the symbolism in this episode of hat=Daryl, spoon=Beth. It also works the other way around, we saw in Alone Daryl comically over using a spoon so we could say that Daryl=spoon. The other thing is we have seen Daryl with the spoon more than we ever saw Beth. We also can say Beth=hat because we saw her in an Andrea white knit hat in season 3. And we have the Sirius symbol of FG in the Andreas hat and he represents Beth return.

I really like your interpretation of Nora being a Leah character. This fits so well with something that I was going to mention that I observed in the episode. When Davon first met Nora we see them together, (the actress is very attractive) but I couldn't help but think how lovely she was in the way they shot her. At the end when all hell breaks loose and she thinks that Davon has killed, taking her child I was struck by, I won't say how ugly she was but she was no longer the lovely person visually. She was always frowning and had a very angry (justified) look on her face and it just struck me that they wanted her to be seen in the scenes as unattractive. Now with the thought that Nora=Leah it makes perfect sense. Neither Davon or Daryl saw Nora/Leah clearly, they both were blinded by the desire to see them in a favorable flattering light. Their eyesight was flawed.

Arnaud telling about it being hard to be little, screamed the scene in e3 Dee, where Dee was about to kill Lydia and herself. Two deranged killers from two different episodes that dealt with trauma when they were little. And we're not to notice certain reoccurring threads throughout these Tales episodes or from the mothership TWD?

Davon in the basement. The ladder with an X, heavenly light shining in the dark, a water=Beth on the left.

We've been seeing a lot of staircases. A Heaven and Hell kind of symbolism. This episode actually had a basement, a hell for the children. I also think we can add ladders to the staircase symbolism.

@twdmusicboxmystery:

Yeah, good point about him being left behind attention-wise. I like that. The other thing I forgot to mention is that he knew something. Something they needed. In this case, that Nora's son was still alive. I think Beth will have something TF needs that she knows that they need to defeat the CRM and survive this world long-term. She has to survive so she can tell them. And at least part of that may have to do with the kids being taken. Hence, Davon went looking for the kids.

@wdway:

So many symbols in this episode. Handcuffs, a symbol of being held captive.

A look alike to a missing character.

Foot symbolism. Spring?

An injury to the high left side of the head.

Any idea what’s marked in the hands of townspeople?

@frangipanilove:

I was curious about this as well. I couldn’t tell if there was written anything in their hands or if there were any marks of any kind. I was wondering if it was a gesture particular to their culture that meant “I sentence you to death” or something. Like an “eye for an eye” gesture of some kind.

@wdway:

I'm pretty well done. There are just a couple questions I'm sure I'm not alone in wondering about. Where was Davon originally going? Montreal is what we were told but where had he been? For what reason was he going to Montreal? Who are the people in the photo, family, friends? Where did he graduate from? Somewhere in France? Maybe from some type of CR University? Where was he before that he had a ppp card? What the hell does a ppp card open? Will we see Davon in the future? I think so, too many questions around him left open ended.

I know right! What does it mean? I like the gesture idea.

Such a Beth statement.

The first one is from him pulling it out of his boot in front of the wheel-house with walker Amanda next to him. The second is from when he wakes up in bed and ask for his boot.

@frangipanilove:

Thanks! There aren’t a whole lotta clues there, but the red chevron/V is probably very significant. Other than that, idk. Maybe we get more clues via some other storyline from some other part of TWDU. I’m positive it’s not just a random, throwaway detail, that’s for sure.

Yeah, the context could be key, it appears with a boot reference both times. I like that, great thinking!

@wdway:

@frangipanilove, was the spoon you originally notice the one of Arnaud in the doorway? Just wondering.

I thought Arnaud was strange from the first time we saw him. He and his mother were too close. Trust me I do not set at a table holding hands with my sons.

@frangipanilove:

No, it was actually a ladle, I think it was Amanda who was holding it while cooking. It wasn’t lingered on, but spoons and ladles always remind me of the Big and Little Dipper/North Star symbolism, plus of course the DC spoon that you talked about above. I didn’t notice Arnaud’s spoon at all, great catch!

@twdmusicboxmystery

That’s it for today. More tomorrow, including some of my more detailed thoughts. Stay tuned!

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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aechteaseawb · 2 months

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i kind of want to write chapter one girajera. whatever the fuck was going on in the earlier episodes you get it. like sometime after gira became king but before jeramie did

“Y’know,” Gira jumps at the voice ringing out behind him, “it’s equally important to take a rest here and there.”

He hasn’t realized his door’s been pushed open at all, but his guest must’ve been standing there for a while, with an unhurriedness that’s scarcely found in Gira’s social circle.

“Jeramie!” he calls out. “How long have you been-”

A comically loud stomach growl interrupts him mid-sentence. He always thought that only happens on TV! Oh, this is embarrassing, but Jeramie only pushes in a little food trailer and tells him, “It’s already half past two. Your maids were getting worried that you weren’t responding to their door knocks!”

“They were?” Dang it. Gira didn’t hear any of it, too engrossed with deciphering the legal jargon on the new merchant route proposal! He’s just got so much on his plate now all of a sudden, and there’s so much catching up to do that Gira sometimes loses track of the time, this being the third occurance of the week, and it’s only Tuesday! “I’m going to have to apologize for that later…” he mumbles, mostly to himself.

“Well, never mind that for now,” Jeramie says, stepping right into his space and helping him sort the scattered loose pages into neat stacks, like it’s the natural thing to do. He serves the plates on the trailer onto Gira’s desk in a playfully large bow. “Bon appétit, your majesty.”

“Ah, thanks,” he says, not sure what else to say.

“You’re most welcome,” Jeramie answers with his usual cryptid smile.

He never quite knows what to think of Jeramie.

Gira hasn’t had that many chances to get to know him yet, so he doesn’t know where to land his judgment. It certainly doesn’t help that Jeramie enjoys shrouding himself in mysteries and riddles. Gira’s tried, he swears he has! But he really, really still doesn’t know how to read the subtext! And the result is that he’s now spent a whole lot of time staring at Jeramie’s face stupidly without coming to any kind of substantial conclusion.

Well, his face is very beautiful, there’s that. And his skin is in very good condition for a two-thousand-year-old. His eyes look unspeakably old sometimes, but when he smiles after a successful prank, when his eyes crinkle, he looks indistinguishable from any teenage schoolboy.

Does two thousand years do that to a person? Gira can’t begin to imagine going two weeks without washing his face, but it doesn’t seem to bother Jeramie. Most things don’t seem to bother Jeramie.

Jeramie always looks so self-assured about his movements, and he doesn’t seem to shy from any encounter, unshaken even when he was being threatened, or treated with hostility. Maybe it’s because he’s seen far too much, so not much can unfaze him anymore, and now he goes around doing whatever he pleases. But Yanma once said, He’s just a socially-inept old geezer with too much time on his hands.

“Jeramie,” he says, “what did you have for lunch today?”

“Me?” Jeramie’s eyes widen. Gira wonders when was the last time anyone asked him about what he had for lunch. “Thank you kindly for asking, but no need to worry, really,” he says. “I don’t eat in the same way you do.”

Gira has absolutely no idea what he means by that, but… “You eat human food, right? I’ve seen you eat.”

“Yes,” he says. “I eat human food, but-”

“Here,” he scoops up a spoonful of egg and shoves it in Jeramie’s face. “You haven’t eaten anything today, right?”

“Well, now!” Jeramie exclaims. “Pardon, me, then.” He carefully lays his left hand on Gira’s wrist, and leans forward to take a bite. He can hear the sound of Jeramie’s teeth clinking against the silverware.

it is very amusing to me to have yanma call jeramie an old geezer

#kingoh #ficlet

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displayportdog · 2 years

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Alright, here's a good question. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

So imagine this scenario: You're walking down the 5th avenue, New York City on the 3rd of February 1976 at 02:47. Whilst your walking you hear loud footsteps behind you. You start walking faster, and the footsteps become louder too. So you walk even faster, and the footsteps become even louder.

After a short time, you're practically running. Whoever or whatever is behind you is starting to catch up.

At a street corner you come to a halt. You quickly turn around to see what has been chasing you down the avenue. It's a tall shadowy man wearing a trenchcoat, black gloves and a hat which obscures his face.

In a deep mysterious voice he says: "Mister, can I get some ice cream?"

You look bewildered. You have no icecream. But as you look down you find yourself holding a large tub of ice cream. You're completely baffled. How on earth did it appear in your hand? You have no memory of picking it up. You have never seen it in your life. Yet there it is. Held right in your hand.

You think for a second. Although you have no idea where the tub of ice cream came from, you could use this to your advantage. Ice cream ain't exactly cheap. Besides, purchasing a tub of ice cream in the current economy? You'd have to be a millionaire!

Whilst you're thinking about the fortunate situation you somehow have found yourself in, you start to feel peckish. Not in a "I could really go for a nice succulent meal right now" way, but more of a "I could really go for a nice scoop of delicious ice cream.

Suddenly you snap out of your thoughts and back into your current situation. The mysterious man waits patiently for your answer. Can he get some ice cream?

With the copious, overwhelming amount of ice cream you now possess you can't just snatch it all for yourself. You are a kind man. A true humanist. You're not selfish. Your mother taught you at an early age that "sharing is caring" and you have stuck to those words since she first uttered them. Oh, what a sad and gloomy it was when she passed. Mama was laying there in her bed. She had done so much for you and now you could do nothing for her.

You want to make your mother proud. You want her memory to live on.

"Sharing is caring"

So, you do the right thing. You tell the man:

"Alright, but only a spoonful."

A silence ensues.

New York City. "The Big Apple". "The city that never sleeps".

All quiet.

The only thing you can hear is the wind.

The man stands completely still. Motionless. As if turned into stone.

Suddenly his arm starts moving. He reaches into the left side of his trenchcoat. You stand there terrified. "He's gonna pull out a gun isn't he? He's gonna shoot me dead, right here, right now. This is where I die. Oh god, I'm too young to die. Lord, have mercy!"

The man pulls out the object from his trenchcoat.

It's a spoon.

A rather large spoon.

A very large spoon.

A "comically large" spoon...

Your face turns in horror as the man raises the spoon and reveals the unholy grin on his malicious face.

So, if you could eat any colour crayon out of the box, what colour crayon would you eat?

orange

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aimless-imagines-for-fun · 3 years

Text

Racing Heart

Pairing :: Clark Kent x short/petite fem!Reader

Warnings :: Smut, Size Kink

Word Count :: 4,265

Summary :: You never knew why, but whenever you were around Clark, your heart always raced.

A/N :: Just an fyi, I used Henry Cavill’s Clark Kent, but I used the comic book height of Clark, which is 6′3′’, versus Henry’s 6′1′’

You never quite understood why, all you knew was that your heart always started racing when you were close to Clark. It wasn’t whenever you saw him, or when you were just in the same room as him. It was only when you were able to notice how small you were compared to the 6’3’’ man.

There were many occasions when this happened. Whenever Clark hugged you, helped you grab something on a top shelf, or even when he was standing so close to you, you two almost touched, your heart began racing. It had gotten to the point where you went out of your way to avoid getting close to the man, making sure you were always on the opposite side of the room from him.

There were three specific times though that made your face heat up just thinking about them.

The first one was in the break room.

You had managed to open the cabinet doors right above the refrigerator, but were struggling to grab the box of plastic utensils. You always forgot to bring a fork or spoon from home for your lunch, though you never had to worry about it because The Daily Planet had some. Of course, in an office full of tired reporters, others were bound to forget their utensils as well, and thus the box that was placed on the counter was now empty.

You stood on your tippy-toes, fingers barely grazing the corner of the box. The heels your wore offered no help, only adding a mere inch and a half to your height. You open the cabinet with ease, and a huff of annoyance left you when you saw the box of forks was on the second shelf. You had grown so frustrated, you began hopping just to try and hit the box that you now believed was taunting you. However, your hopping was working, as you managed to hit the corner repeatedly to make the box slowly come out. You didn’t care if you were wearing a skirt. It ended right before your knees and you were wearing black tights so it was fine.

You just needed one more good hop and you knew you’d be able to grab the box. You bent your knees only slightly, and then-

“Do you need some help?” A deep kind voice asked, followed by a large hand reaching past you and grabbing the box.

You whipped your entire body around, now facing a tie and button-down plaid shirt. You tilted your head up, seeing the man from Kansas, Clark Kent. He was giving you one of his classic golden boy smiles, looking down at you.

You gave him a small smile in return, and you could feel your heartbeat begin to grow faster. Perhaps Clark sneaking up behind you startled you, and he seemed to notice.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I just saw you were struggling for a bit,” He commented, holding the box out for you.

You grabbed it, thanking him quietly before a small idea popped into your head. “Were you watching me?”

You swore you saw a small tint on Clark’s cheeks as he let out a cough to clear his throat. “Um, no, I had walked by earlier and saw you struggling then, and, well, when I came back I saw you were still here so I decided to help.”

You let out a small giggle. “I’m teasing Clark.”

You saw him visibly ease up, letting out a small exhale. Little did you know he had been staring at you for a small while before he helped you. Watching you hop up and down had brought a small smile of amusement to his face.

The second one was in the supply room.

Some people bought their supplies, and that was their stash. Others, such as yourself, helped themselves to the abundance of the supply room. What you had just ran out of only moments ago were sticky notes. You used them quite often, not only for notes but also for little drawings you did to pass the time. As a matter of fact, your entire desk was nearly covered with either small memos or doodles of random characters.

The sticky notes, unfortunately, were located on the top shelf. To add to your bad luck, there was also no stepping stool or ladder. Now, you could’ve been rational and go get someone taller to help. ‘Nah, I got this,’ you thought as you carefully began to climb up on the shelves. You believed in your climbing abilities, even in your heels. Admittedly, it was a bit awkward trying to grip onto the shelves, and the heels of your feet were hanging off, but you felt secure enough.

You reached the top shelf with relative ease, only needing to step up two shelves. Then came the matter of the box of sticky notes that had yet to be open. There was no way you could open the box to grab the small number of notepads you needed, not without both hands though. You could throw the box down, but what were the chances of it breaking open and creating a mess? ‘I really should’ve thought this one through a little better,’ you regretted.

Busy thinking of how to get the sticky notes down(along with how often you found yourself in this sort of ‘you’ve made your bed now lay in it’ situations you’ve been in) you didn’t notice the door open and close once again. “(Y/N)?”

“Wha- Ah!” You let out a squeal, losing your balance from being pulled from your train of thought. Your eyes widened and your heart froze, feeling your feet slip off along with your grip.

You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the oncoming impact from the floor, along with the pain. Thankfully, the person who had caused your fall was quick enough to save you. Instead of feeling the hard tiled floor, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you. They held you close, almost squeezing you a bit too tight, but you felt safe in the embrace. You opened your eyes, blinking a few times to make sure you were indeed okay. You looked up to see who had caught you, your (e/c) eyes locking with blue ones behind a frame of glasses.

There was a clear worried look on Clark’s face. “You need to be careful (Y/N), you can’t just climb up shelves. If you need help, ask for it,” He continued to scold you, but you couldn’t focus on a thing he was saying.

Your heart was pounding, though you thought it was from the adrenaline of almost falling, and your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t listen to him with him still holding you, it was all your mind was focused on. His grip on you was frim, and you were so close to him you could smell his cologne, citrus with a hint of musk. You always knew you were petite in build, but being held like this made you feel tiny. ‘His arms are so big. Am I really this small? He doesn’t look like he’s struggling at all. When does he have the time to work out? How-’

“(Y/N) are you even listening to a thing I’m saying?”

You blinked once, looking at him with big eyes. “Um… You’re still holding me…” You pointed out, a small blush coming to your cheeks. Unable to look at him any longer, your eyes darted down, missing his flustered face.

He put you down quickly, apologizing, and you told him not to just as quickly in response. After, you thanked him and rushed out without even taking a single sticky note with you. Later on in the day though, when you had walked away and returned to your desk, there were two sticky note pads on your desk.

The third one was at a charity event.

You and Clark were assigned to the event together as it was a rather large event. The money being raised was for meta-human teens and children, to help them better understand their abilities safely.

After hearing the guest list, you knew you had to wear the one forest green dress you wore to every fancy event. It was the nicest, and expensive, dress you owned. You paired it with three-inch black heels and a simple opal pendant. You never like dressing up too much. Clark wore a simple muted dark brown suit, with a navy blue button-up and blue tie to match it.

Now, it was rather tricky to keep your distance from Clark this time, and you really didn’t want to get flustered during work. Before it was at work, now it would be during work. There was a difference, granted a small difference, but still, a difference. At work, you just minded your business, and on occasion, goofing off when you weren’t writing an article. Here you were supposed to be interviewing and taking notes of everything happening. You couldn’t miss something important because Clark wanted to dance and you couldn’t keep your mind straight after. He didn’t ask you to dance, but, if he did you’d refuse.

“So, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen-”

“Please, call me Oliver,” The blond said.

Before you stood Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. You were intending to speak to Mr. Wayne alone, but just as you approached him, Mr. Queen also got to him. You were about to apologize and walk away, however, Mr. Queen, or rather, Oliver, insisted you interviewed them together. You had to admit, it was rather nice having Oliver around as Mr. Wayne, even though he was known as a playboy, gave you a rather intimidating aura.

You began interviewing the two, asking them the same questions you had asked all the millionaires, but ended up talking with them and enjoying it. Mr. Wayne wasn’t as intimidating as he had seemed, and Oliver was rather humorous. It was clear to you the two were friends.

You were in the middle of laughing at a joke Oliver had told when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turned your head, seeing Clark, standing right beside you with a smile.

“Well you most certainly are having a good time,” He commented before turning his attention to the men in front of you. “Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached out with his free hand to shake theirs.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well…” Mr. Wayne’s voice trailed off as he looked down at Clark’s badge from the daily planet, “...Mr. Kent.”

“Call me Oliver,” He said as he shook your coworker’s hand. “I take it you two were sent together?”

“Yes,” You said in sync.

The conversation continued, and the entire time Clark kept his arm around your shoulders. You nodded along, even humming a few times in response to make it appear as if you were listening as your mind wandered. ‘Why is my heart racing? Why is he still holding me? Should I say something? What if I seem rude? I don’t want him to let go though.’ Even though you didn’t want to acknowledge it, you knew there was a small part of you that always liked how petite you were compared to Clark.

Then, you felt his thumb begin to rub small circles onto your bare shoulder. Without thinking, you slowly leaned into his larger frame. Now, you couldn’t see it because you were still looking ahead at the two millionaires, but Clark glanced down at you, happy you had come closer.

You couldn’t avoid Clark forever though, despite your best efforts.

You walked down the sidewalk, holding four large reusable grocery bags each full to the brim. You lived alone, but you liked to shop in bulk so you wouldn’t have to go out often. You were struggling a fair amount though. Normally, you had a friend who’d come with you to help you out and then the two of you would hang out. Sadly, all your friends were busy for the next few days and you were beginning to run out of your favorite conditioner, not to mention you were low on food.

You didn’t drive to the grocery store either, adding to your struggle. It was only three blocks away, why waste gas? You wouldn’t be struggling much longer though.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” A male voice called out.

You stopped, eyes darting everywhere to find the owner of the voice. It took you a moment until you eventually spotted Clark in front of you, a good distance away.

“Oh, hi Clark!” You placed two of the bags down to give him a large arm wave.

It took him a moment to get to you, and when he did he looked down at your groceries puzzled. “That seems like a lot for one person to carry.”

“Yeah, I tend to bite off more than I can chew.”

“I’ve noticed,” He said with a chuckle. “Do you want some help?”

You shook your head. “No. I couldn’t possibly drag you away from your day off to help me.”

“It wouldn’t be a hassle at all,” He reassured you. “Plus, it’d eat at me all day knowing I left you struggling.”

Knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, you let out a sigh, agreeing to his help. He took three of the bags, leaving you with the one bag filled with two bags of chips, three loaves of bread, and two dozen eggs. You tried to hold two bags, make the work even between the two of you, but he insisted. He tried to carry the bag you held as well, but you were adamant you held at least one.

Walking down to your apartment complex, the two of you mainly talked about work. At least you did, and Clark more so listened. This was the first time your heart didn’t start racing as you stood next to him, probably because you wouldn’t shut up about the deadline for your new article. You refused to look up at him, eyes fixed only on what was in front of you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to get to your apartment. You thanked him and told him he could go on with his day, but he insisted he helped you carry the bags up to your apartment.

You were quiet from then on, listening to Clark talk about the building. He lead you all away to your front door, standing patiently for you to unlock your door. Then, it hit you. You noticed his shadow over you as you faced your front door. Your heart quickened a bit, still, you ignored it as you opened your front door.

You speedily guided him to the kitchen to place the groceries down, and just as fast you tried to rush him out. His brows furrowed, confusion written all over his face.

“(Y/N), why are you in such a rush to show me out?”

‘Because I can’t think straight now with you around!’ You thought. Instead, you said to him, “Because I’m tired and I want you to enjoy your day off!”

He didn’t seem to believe you. He stood in front of you, a small frown on his lips. “Do you like me?”

Your eyes widened, mouth left ajar at his question.

“Because sometimes I get the feeling that you don’t like me.”

‘Oh-’ “What- No. I think you’re a great guy Clark.”

“Then why are you always avoiding me?” You didn’t think he had noticed. “Whenever I get close to you, you scurry off, and when you can’t you look uncomfortable.”

Like a child who had just gotten caught, you covered your face, too embarrassed to look at him. You didn’t want to tell him the real reason you were avoiding him, but, you also didn’t want him thinking you disliked him. It was the exact opposite.

“I’m not avoiding you because I don’t like you, Clark,” You said through your hands. You spread apart your fingers so you could look him in the eyes. “I… I avoid you because you’re… you’re so big.”

Now Clark was taken aback, a brow raised. “What?”

With a long exhale, you lowered your hands. “I said, I avoid you because you’re so… so big, and it makes me feel really small, and I can’t think straight.”

“You avoid me because I’m too big, and it makes you feel small, and you can’t think straight?” He repeated.

You nodded.

He was silent for a few seconds, tilting his head to the side. “In a good or bad way?”

“What?”

“In a good or bad way?”

You could feel your face heat up, and it wasn’t the only spot on you beginning to grow warm. Softly, you answered him. “In a good way, I guess.”

Clark took a step closer to you. “So you like the fact that I’m larger than you?”

“Yes, I just-”

“No.” His normally bright blue eyes seemed to darken, his eyes narrowed on you. “I want you to say it.”

You closed your legs closer together, feeling a heat rise in between your thighs. “I like that you’re so much bigger and stronger compared to me.”

Swiftly, Clark scooped you up, hands just beneath your bottom to raise you to his face. With how fast your heart was racing now you were sure he could hear it pounding in your chest.

You looked into his eyes as you carefully took off his glasses and tossed them onto your couch. Then, you placed a hand on each side of his face and gave him a long soft kiss. He returned the kiss gently, though after a few minutes you could tell he wanted more, his kiss began to grow rough.

You had wrapped your legs around him to be more comfortable, giving him a better grip on you. He squeezed your ass and in response you let out a soft moan. He lowered you a bit, only enough for you to feel his growing erection against your fully clothed core. He held your hips close, moving you against him for a bit of friction. You whimpered, lowering your head into his chest and gripping his dark grey shirt.

“Clark, please,” You whined.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He asked, voice deeper than usual.

You pulled your head away from his chest, nodding over in the direction of your bedroom. “Second door to the right,”

Almost hurried, he carried you straight to your bedroom. He stopped right at the edge of your bed, letting go and letting you fall back onto your mattresses. He crawled on top of you, placing a knee between your legs. Gently, he peeled away your clothes, tossing them to the side and leaving you in your underwear. He began peppering kisses around your neck, slowly moving down to your collarbone. As he did, his hand crept its way behind your back and undid the clasp on your bra. He pulled away from his kisses to watch your breasts bounce free, eyes fixed on your bare chest.

Feeling embarrassed, you moved to cover your chest with your hands, but he pinned your hands above your head with one hand.

A low chuckle escaped him. “Aw, are you feeling shy?”

You were about to turn your head away when Clark dipped his head down, capturing your lips again. You could feel his free hand slowly trail up your side, humming as a shiver went down your spine. He cupped your breast firmly, beginning to knead it in his palm.

Small moans left your lips, arching your back, body begging for more. You already knew your panties were wet, and you needed him, but he was still fully clothed. All the while you could feel his denim-covered erection against your thigh.

“Clark,” You groaned against his lips, “It’s not fair.”

He pulled back, brows raised. You struggled to pull your hands free, to no avail.

“You’re still dressed,” You said with a pout.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, how about you take care of that for me?”

He let go of your hands and you eagerly reached for the end of his shirt, pulling it off of him. You almost started drooling seeing him shirtless for the first time. Your hands began to wander around his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. Your hands wandered down further, to the hem of his pants. Just as you were about to reach for his belt, his hand stopped you.

“You’re not ready yet sweetheart,” He warned you.

“Clark-”

He pressed his mouth against you, silencing you before you could complain. Even though you weren’t allowed to undo his pants, he slid them off with ease and you felt his long hard member pressed against your thigh. You momentarily pulled away to glance down, gasping loudly when you saw his length.

Worried, you looked back up at him. “It’s not going to fit.”

He dipped his head back down to your neck, peppering kisses across your jaw. “That’s why we need to get you ready.”

His hand moved down to your soaked panties, pushing them down so you were completely bare now. Your breathing hitched, feeling him stick in a finger and begin to move it in and out of you slowly. He picked up the pace with his finger, eventually sticking in another and he could already feel your pussy tightening.

You were growing close and he was only fucking you with his fingers. Granted, his hands were larger than yours, so two of his fingers felt much larger than two of your own.

To add on, he lowered himself so his head would be right at your dripping cunt and began sucking on your clit.

“Ah!” Your hands went straight to his hair and began to tug. You were a mess in his hands.

It didn’t take long for your body to shudder and your hips begin to spasm as you hit your high. Clark licked up your pouring juice, humming at your sweet taste. He looked up at you, two fingers remaining and now scissoring inside of you.

“You know, you really should ask for help if you can’t reach something,” He began. “It’s hard trying to hold back when you reach for things in those tight skirts of yours.”

“Well, now you don’t need to hold back,” You teased.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, grabbing his face with one hand and guiding him back to you. You could taste your juices in the kiss, humming in delight.

He pulled his fingers out, your core aching to be filled again. Luckily, you soon felt his already dripping tip at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you and you could feel your walls stretch around him. You nearly cried, your body in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your back arched, breasts pressing against Clark’s chest. Your hands gripped his arms as tight as you could, and you were sure you were digging your nails into him.

It was so much. You could feel your eyes water and tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Clark kissed your forehead, muttered against it, “Just relax.”

He gave a small moment to adjust, noting how your breathing changed when you had gotten used to him. He pushed himself further in though, and you cursed under your breath, body growing tense again.

Again, he gave you a moment to adjust, despite how painfully tight your walls clamped around him. He pulled out a small amount before pushing back in, bucking his a few times to get you used to him. Eventually, your quiet whimpers turned into small moans.

“M-more,” You breathed out, breath shaky.

Like a switch had been flipped in him, Clark pulled out almost all the way and speared you, no longer as gentle as he had been before. He did this again and again, going a little harder each time at a constant rhythm. Then, with one thrust you shouted his name loudly and your cunt squeezed around his cock.

“Ah! Clark again! Right there, please!” You begged him.

Knowing he had found your g-spot, he pulled out all the way this time and pounded that same spot, earning another cry of pleasure from you. He did this repeatedly now with a faster rhythm, leaving you gasping and clenching with each thrust. With each of your breaths growing ragged, it was clear you were both close to your release.

You wrapped a leg around his hips to try and bring him closer, and he gripped your thigh harshly. He squeezed it so tightly, you were sure there’d be a faint bruise.

With a few more thrusts, you shuddered, juices flowing out of you again and around Clark’s cock this time. You swore you heard Clark curse, feeling you squeeze around him and juices cover him.

His rhythm was growing sloppy, and he pumped in and out of you until he let out a low groan of relief. You took a sharp breath, feeling his warm seed enter you. He continued to buck his hips, riding it out until he finally stopped, breath heavy.

He looked at you with now clear eyes and a smile on his face. “So… Do you need help putting your groceries away?” He asked cheekily.

You giggled. “Only if you don’t put anything important on the top shelf.”

“Why not? I’ll be around to help you now.”

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent smut #superman #superman x reader #superman imagine #superman smut #henry cavill #henry cavill superman #henry cavill clark kent #clark kent fanfic #superman fanfic #clark kent fanfiction #superman fanfiction

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Do you love daddy?

Summary:

“Do you love daddy?” Luke repeated. His eyes were wide, he was probably reading into her soul.

Hange didn’t want to give him too easy of a time mind reading. “Of course I do,” she said.

“How come you never tell him you love him?”

Luke asks Hange a question and Hange reflects on it.

Written for Levihan Week 2021, Day 2: Confessions

Link: AO3

Notes:

Levihan Week Day 2 Prompt: Confessions, organized by @levihanweek.

I edited this half asleep to meet my own internal deadline for day 2. I hope it still suffices. Feedback is very much appreciated!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

There was a small forest near their house. In fact, Hange had decided on their permanent home mainly for its proximity from the park.

In the middle of the park was a small, small forest. But to Hange, it was ginormous. Or at least, what you would consider ginormous in an urban setting. It held adventure. It held mystery. It held some breathtaking liberation, something withheld from her during her years as a commander.

That particular weekend was a lazy weekend. It was just her and her son. For some parent-child bonding, Hange was ready to get lost in the forest. Before she could even dive deeper though, reality rammed into her in such an abrupt, yet such gentle and adorable manner. “Do you love daddy?” Luke asked.

With those words alone, Hange could almost hear the curiosity burning inside him. She kept her eyes trained ahead, focusing on the forest. The woods were small, the forest was only large enough for a few small kids to play some hybrid between tag and hide-and-seek. The trees were of a safe size, some convenient shape that framed their surroundings.

It was a beautiful view, something she didn’t see often, especially when cooped up in the office forty hours a week. She decided to enjoy it and let whatever answer to that question come organically.

Do I love Levi?

The forest held more than adventure. It held something silent and invisible. Along the way, she had suddenly become aware of the breathing of her son, the rustle of the leaves. He was only inches away from her. In surprise, she turned back to her son while attempting to conceal the discomfort. She willed herself to keep her chin up, her eyes a reasonable size and her breathing very much even.

“Do you love daddy?” The kid repeated, his eyes wide. He could probably read into her soul and she didn’t want to give him too easy of a time mind reading.

“Of course I do,” Hange said.

“How come you never tell him you love him?”

“I do.”

“Corbin says his parents tell each other they love each other everyday,” Luke said.

Corbin… Was that a friend at school? It was nothing more than a passing thought. If it demanded to be something else, Hange didn’t notice, her thoughts had embedded themselves into something a little more pressing. “Luke, you don’t think I love daddy?” she challenged.

The young boy cocked his head to one side and shrugged. “You don’t tell daddy you love him…”

Hange could have sworn she did. She found herself racking her memories for some hint to an answer, some hint to reassurance that would suffice for her son.

When Hange indulged that nostalgia, the trees blurred for a second, the greens extended beyond the frames of her view. The sky that wiggled themselves through the canopy as streams of light disappeared for just a second.

Why don’t we just live here together? They echoed inside her and with it, they sent a rush of confidence through her. “I love him.” She had enough confidence to introduce it as if it were a well thought out proposition. She turned to his son.

Luke narrowed his eyes. Through the years, he was starting to look more and more like his father. If Luke expressed emotions anything like his father, Hange could be certain, it was doubt written all over his face.

Luke didn’t believe her? Hange was in no mood though for a lecture. She was in no mood for a moment of introspection, especially when there were still lichens and moss around her she wanted to identify. “Let’s talk about that when we get home.”

The conversation was over. Hange walked ahead then into the forest and tabled that problem for later.

***

Children never forget.

Hange scolded herself for underestimating the boy and to add insult to injury, overestimating herself. She wasn’t at all ready for the talk, especially not in front of Levi. She had just indulged that bad habit of hers, that tendency to assume that a five year old would forget what the hell they had just said.

“Do you love each other?” Luke had asked. It came too out of nowhere, over half finished plates of homemade pasta and untouched bowls of soup.

Levi coughed violently then dropped his spoon. One hand flew to his mouth. “What the fuck.” It came out like a mumble, a second later, concealed by one smooth deep breath.

Hange was frozen, too frozen to even tell what had been her first reaction.

Levi composed himself quickly. “Why are you asking that?”

Hange had known him long enough to know though that he was raring to insert some curse into that query. “Of course we do” Her response was automatic. Still she found herself, flashing Levi a look.

He returned it with something unreadable, seemingly uninterested but with a sliver of surprise.

“How come you never tell each other ‘I love you?’” Luke asked.

“We do,” Levi said.

For a second, Hange was relieved. At least they were still in the same wavelength.

“When?” Luke asked.

“Sometimes… when you’re asleep,” Hange said. Once again, those words had been automatic, impulsive. They were a product of Hange's inability to process such complex emotions, especially with a five year old of all things.

It was a mistake, an utterly stupid mistake. How the hell Hange hadn’t seen through it, it was a mystery. Really though, five year olds were very unpredictable creatures.

Luke wasn’t sleeping that night and he was doing a shitty job pretending he was asleep. Their apartment wasn’t too small but the walls were thin enough that everything just went bump, sometimes the doors went creak.

Overcompensating maybe for her stupid move, Hange decided to just perk her ears up. listen closely and attempt to make sense of the sounds. A few reiterations later, Hange figured it out. Luke was walking back and forth from the bed to the door and he wasn’t doing such a good job. He bumped, he creaked, sometimes he whispered.

Eventually, Hange would have to come in and put him to bed herself.

Still, that could wait. “Levi. You wanna go back to bed?” Hange said, just loud enough for the sound to travel to the open kitchen. Levi was once again reorganizing the cupboard.

Levi looked back at her, his eyes sleepy and his expression just a little dumb. It was late at night and she couldn’t really blame him for his utter obliviousness and his apathy over the whole fiasco. He shifted his eyes towards the partially open bedroom door for a second, then he met Hange’s gaze. He made his way the few feet to the sofa. “Do you plan on doing anything about… that?” He settled himself on the sofa next to Hange and looked at her expectantly.

“He’s gonna fall asleep eventually.”

“I know the kid. If you don’t talk to him about this, he’s not gonna sleep,” Levi said.

“Talk to him about…” Hange was feigning obliviousness.

It didn’t seem to work with Levi though. “That love thing, whatever that is. I don’t know what even happened between the two of you.” Levi leaned back on the sofa. “But I want my son to get a good night’s sleep.

Hange sighed. “While we were playing in the park, he asked if I loved ‘daddy.’”

Levi turned to her, a deadpan expression on his face. “Do you love me then?”

Comically Deadpan. Hange couldn’t even make sense of it herself, the question, the reaction had come so abruptly, so unexpectedly that Hange had to look away for some space and peace, enough at least for her to come up with some sorry excuse of a response.

“Why? What’s so funny?” Levi pressed.

The more he asked, the harder it would be to answer. And Hange didn’t want to make a big deal of it too late at night. The wry grin on her face was all she could muster. “Sorry, it just came out of nowhere--- What the hell, why are you asking it like this, all of a sudden.”

“Because Luke was asking?” Levi answered matter-of-factly. Hange was starting to wonder, was she making a big deal out of those three simple words?

“There must have been a reason right? A reason we never really said those words...”

“Why don’t you?” Levi asked.

“It feels….” I love you. She echoed it then she moved her lips slightly, just enough to feel for herself how it should have felt to say it out loud. “Excessive?”

“Does it?”

“Well… People say it all the time but then they cheat on each other, they abandon each other, they fight and it just seems like… something people say to be dramatic.”

“Unless you mean it right?” Levi suggested.

“What if--- I just wanna prove it. I wanna earn and support the family. I wanna spend time with you and Luke and I wanna just commit to making the relationship work. I don’t wanna add any unnecessary verbosities to it.”

“Would it hurt to say it?” Levi asked.

“It feels tacky,” Hange admitted.

“Even for your son?”

Hange sensed the slyness, the amusement in Levi’s voice. The war freak in her wanted some retribution. Her mouth went faster. “Do you love me?”

Levi turned a beet red, a rare scene particularly since they had started living together. And before Hange could even confirm that it hadn’t been some trick of the light, he looked away.

Hange craned her neck, ready to take one peek.

Levi couldn’t look away forever. “Do I really have to answer that?”

“Why? What are you so scared of?” Hange didn’t bother to stifle the smile. She snuck it into her words instead as a soft chuckle. “You okay?”

Levi spun around, his head bent down. “You’re right. It sounds tacky.” He put his hand out, balled it into a fist and pressed it to her chest. “Other words just sound better.”

The hand was warm, familiar and with one gesture, Hange felt secure. “Dedicate your heart? So you said that because you love me?”

“I thought I was going to lose you.”

“I thought I was going to lose you too,” Hange admitted. “That’s why I invited you to live in the forest with me.”

“Back then, did you…” Levi raised his brows expectantly.

Love me? Hange took the risk. “Of course.”

“Then why did you stop yourself from saying it?” Levi averted his gaze. He hung his head back and stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s excessive, melodramatic,” Hange admitted. “Why put ourselves to that drama in the middle of the war?”

“But you still invited me to live with you in the forest.”

“Other words just sound better,” Hange said. She mirrored Levi’s tone of a while ago. She hovered her hand over his, and propped it.

Levi looked up once again. Their eyes met and once again, they connected. Like every other time before and Hange was looking back at those other words again.

“Other words just sounded better then.” Right, circumstances were different then. There were words that had just been off limits, too melodramatic, especially in the middle of the war.

The war was over. They were in their own house. They were basking in the peace of post war Paradis.

It could have been a force of habit that the words kept themselves in, even when Hange had opened her mouth to speak. “I love you,” she whispered. The words were heavy, they were looming and somehow when she let them free, some other tension she dind’t even know existed had broken free from inside her. She let out a laugh, too loud for too late at night. “I love you,” she said again, much louder that time.

“Me too,” Levi said. “I love you too.” His response was smooth, natural and not at all hesitant and Hange wondered how long he had kept it in or if he had ever even rehearsed it.

She grinned, gripped his hand harder and let out a long exhale. They were silent for a few seconds and in the silence, the thumps, the thuds were deafeningly loud. Hange studied Levi’s expression, the subtle smile that climbed up his lips.

There was another thud, a few more bumps and suddenly it was silent. On the way to their bedroom, Hange snuck a glance at the partially open door, looking at the lump under the bed, the movements even, the breathing peaceful.

Luke had fallen asleep. For Levi or Luke, or even for herself, Hange made one last gesture. “I love you.” She bent forward, planting a kiss on Levi’s forehead. “Sorry if it’s five years late.”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #lhw2021 #levihanweek2021

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elvish-sky · 3 years

Text

All You Had Ever Dreamed {Fili x Reader}

A.N: So this could have gone in several directions but my brain went this way, so I hope that’s alright! Also, I think I got all the pregnancy stuff right but I’m 15 so I’m sorry if it’s inaccurate. And yes, this was supposed to be short. My bad. But I actually honestly love this fic it may be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, thank you so much for requesting it!

Requested by @lonikje on Tumblr as part of my 450 Sleepover:

Word Count: 2,019

Pairings: Fili x Reader, mentioned Bilbo x Thorin

Summary: You faint during a training session with Kili and Dwalin.

Warnings: Fluff, mention of Menstruation, Pregnancy

**** All You Had Ever Dreamed

Whirling around, you ducked Kíli’s sword and jumped out of the way of Dwalin’s ax. You struck at Kili, feeling the block he delivered reverberate down your arm, and with one of your daggers locked together with Kili’s sword used the other to deflect another blow from Dwalin. Struggling with both of them, you disengaged and backed up, watching them regroup as you did the same. It was one of the rare days where instead of going too easy on you, Dwalin had decided that you were up for a challenge.

Eight months after the Battle of the Five Armies, Erebor was thriving. Thorin had been gravely wounded but pulled through, and although Fíli and Kíli’s injuries were less gruesome they were still worrying, but now everyone was back on their feet and healthier than ever. Bilbo had stayed in Erebor, much to the delight of both the company and the men and elves who thought, correctly, that the hobbit would be much easier to negotiate with than the dwarves. You had also noticed some romantic tension between the hobbit and the king but had decided not to bring it up. You stuck to speculating with your husband and his brother.

That was right. Fíli was your husband, having done a spectacularly over-the-top proposal the second he was back on his feet. You had laughed your head off to see the throne room covered in flowers when you walked in and then started sobbing with joy when you saw your dwarf bent on one knee. And then you were laughing through the tears as, after you accepted, the company appeared from the shadows to give you congratulations and Thorin had had a fancy flower crown entwined in his hair. You suspected Bilbo, and his wink confirmed it.

You had gotten married three months later, at a ceremony attended by not only almost every dwarf in Erebor but also Kings Bard and Thranduil. It wasn’t every day that the Heir of Erebor got married, after all, and Thorin had spared no expense to make it the best celebration possible. And after the disaster that was Thorin and Bilbo’s wedding, at which Fili and Kili had gotten drunk to liven things up and almost destroyed the cake Bilbo had spent hours working on for his husband, Thorin had taken every precaution to ensure your day went off without a hitch. And somehow it had, the ceremony had taken place outside, in one of Erebor’s few outdoor courtyards. The sun had shone down on the whole gathering, the moon coming out in the night, and you thought there had never been, or ever could be such a perfect day.

Anyway, you were currently trying not to get eviscerated by the two dwarven warriors (which wasn’t technically possible, given the fact that you were using blunt weapons, but you wouldn’t put it past Dwalin. That dwarf was strong). Twin daggers clutched, you slashed at Kíli before running up the wall and flipping over his head, unsteadily landing behind him with a dagger at his throat.

You let out a breath of satisfaction, but your dagger was suddenly knocked from your hand, Dwalin barreling towards you with his hand still extended from the throw. Leaping out of the way, your breathing grew heavier as you were driven back by the two dwarves, their efforts renewed. Your head started to feel light, sort of fuzzy, and you kept backing up, blocks growing weaker. As everything faded to black and you collapsed, the last thing you heard was Kíli.

“Fíli’s going to kill me.”

You opened your eyes, everything hazy until you blinked it into focus. You were in a large room, sunlight streaming in through the windows to highlight- was that Kíli standing above you?

“Y/N!” Kíli brushed your hair back from your forehead, looking concerned. “You fainted, are you alright?”

“What are you doing here?”

He pouted. “That’s not exactly the wake-up greeting I was expecting. And didn’t you hear what I said? You fainted in the middle of training. I carried you up to Oin, you’re in the healers’ rooms right now.”

Ahh. Well, that explained why the room was so much bigger than yours, and why there were chairs arranged around the bed you were in.

“Thank you, Kíli. Do you know where Fíli is?”

“I think they sent for him a few minutes ago, you’ve only been out for about ten. He should be here-”

Kíli was cut off by Fíli shoving him away from your bed.

“Y/N!” The golden-haired dwarf exclaimed. “What happened? Are you alright? Why is Kíli here, and why is he touching your face?”

The dark-haired dwarf stood with a smirk. “I’ll just leave you two alone now,” he said and slipped out the door with a smirk.

“Fíli! Don’t be rude! Kíli was taking care of me!” Then realization dawned.

“Is somebody jealous?” You asked with a teasing smile.

Fíli blushed.

“Fíli! You shouldn’t be jealous of Kíli! First of all, it’s Kíli. If I fall in love with him, please make sure I haven’t hit my head, he’s basically my little brother. And secondly, I’ll never love anyone but you, you don’t have to worry about that.”

He smiled at you sheepishly. “I know. I was just worried, and-”

“I know,” you cut him off, grinning.

“Ah, look! It’s Oin!” You waved to the healer as he bustled in, arms full of herbs and vials.

“Ah, Oin. What is wrong with Y/N?” Your husband inquired, the worried look on his face almost comical.

“Well, it could be several things. Have you been eating enough?” The healer inquired about this while mixing up a tincture.

“Yes.”

“Sleeping regularly?”

Fíli nodded to answer this question.

“How about water? Have you been drinking enough?”

“Weelllll…” you trailed off sheepishly. “I’m not the best at remembering to drink water.”

“When did you last have a glass today?” The healer was now looking a little worried.

You cast around in your memory. “I had a glass at breakfast, but I haven’t had any more today.”

“WHAT?! YOU HAVEN’T HAD ANYTHING TO DRINK SINCE BREAKFAST?!!! IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON!” Fili was furious. Oin was nodding in agreement as well.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed. “I’ve just been so busy lately, and I’ve been aching so it’s more trouble than it’s worth to go all the way down to the kitchens.”

“Aching, you say?”

When you nodded, Oin came to your bedside.

“When was your last monthly bleeding?”

Fili blushed at this, and you swatted him before counting in your head.

OH.

“It’s been almost three months. We’ve been so busy I didn’t even notice!”

“Then that’s it. You fainted not only because of dehydration, which you’ll need to be much better at but also because you’re pregnant.”

“Wait. What?” Fili looked shocked.

Oin smiled at you, leaving the room.

Fili gazed down at you. “Are you really pregnant?”

You nodded. “I am. I hadn’t noticed the signs before but now that I know it’s blindingly obvious. We’re going to have a baby.”

He lifted you from the bed, spinning you around in joy before suddenly stopping.

“That can’t be good for the baby.”

You laughed. “It’s fine, Fili! I’m fine. And we’re going to be parents.”

He smiled, kissing you.

Later that day, you sat with the Company and Thorin’s sister, Dis, now your mother-in-law, in the rooms of the royal family where you all often ate. Sitting at the table, which had been built specifically for the group of sixteen, Fili kept refilling your water glass every thirty seconds. You made sure to drink enough, now that your body was supporting two. Fili glanced at you, and you realized the table had hushed, you hadn’t noticed the sound of Fili’s spoon against his glass gathering everyone’s attention.

He stood, taking your hand and pulling you up to stand next to him. “We have an announcement.”

Everyone was staring at you both expectantly, and Fili nodded at you to continue.

Smiling, you spoke. “I’m pregnant.”

“We’re going to have a baby!” Fili exclaimed.

The table erupted in cheers and well-wishes.

“So that’s why you fainted earlier!”

You silently cursed Kili, knowing that now the overprotective side of the dwarves would emerge full force. And it did, Thorin started listing everything he needed to be done for you before Dis shushed him. The king then walked up to you, arms open, and hugged you.

“Congratulations, Y/N.”

He then moved on, slapping Fili on the back before stepping back to allow the rest of the company to give their congratulations as well.

Oin winked at you as he hugged you, and said, “I would never spoil your surprise.” The rest of the group gave out hugs and congratulations to you and Fili, and you glowed with happiness, knowing there were few people better than these for your child to grow up with. Finally, Kili stepped forward.

“I’m going to have a niece or a nephew! Congratulations, Y/N, you’re going to be a great mother.” He then mock-whispered, “but I’d watch out around Fili. I’m not sure he’ll do as well.”

Fili punched his brother before grabbing him in another hug, their words whispered too softly for anyone else to hear.

Lastly, Dis came forward, wrapping you in a warm, motherly embrace. “My son is right, Y/N. You will be a wonderful mother. And, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to come to me. Mahal knows I have the experience.”

You thanked her, smiling before she ushered you and Fili out the door. “Now go to bed. It’s late, and you need your rest.” She closed the door behind you, your last glimpse a room of smiling faces.

Back in the rooms that you shared with your husband, you crawled into bed, hair loose, in your favorite nightgown. Fili motioned for you to move closer, so you did, resting your head on his chest as his arm snaked around your shoulders, hand coming to rest on top of yours, where you were unconsciously cradling your belly. He began to sing, a tune that you recognized from the beginning of your quest, so long ago.

“Far over, the Misty Mountains cold,

To dungeons deep, and caverns old.” Fili’s voice wove the song masterfully, and you were taken back to the first time you had met him, almost two years before.

You had stepped into a hobbit-hole of calm, and hearing the sound of voices walked through, careful not to hit your head until you came upon a room of singing dwarves.

You paused in the doorway, letting their song wash over you.

“The fire was red, it flaming spread.

The trees like torches blazed with light.”

They finished, and you stepped into the room. All the heads immediately turned towards you.

“Who are you?” A golden-haired dwarf looked suspicious.

You drew breath to answer, but before you could Gandalf stepped into the room.

“This is Y/N. She will be joining us on our quest.”

The dark-haired dwarf by the fire that looked rather grumpy made as if to protest, but a glare from Gandalf stopped him. The other dwarves quickly introduced themselves, and the golden-haired one stepped up last.

“Y/N, huh?”

You nodded.

“I’m Fili.”

Now, almost two years later, you were in the reclaimed mountain they had sung of, lying in bed with the golden-haired dwarf who had originally been so suspicious of you.

“We’re going to have a baby,” Fili said with a look of wonder, and you smiled at the tears of joy starting to roll down his face.

“We are.”

You kissed him, so alight with the happiness you thought you could burst, before breaking away and laying your head back on his chest. Laying there, you could hear his heartbeat, beating almost in time with your own. You couldn’t wait until the third would join them. With your husband next to you, and a baby growing inside, you finally had all you had ever dreamed of. And it was perfect.

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16

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