Tumgik
#pillar of bravery
fitzaftonsoda · 2 years
Text
Flash Magnus is transmasc because I said so (canon /hj)
Tumblr media
21 notes · View notes
taviamoth · 24 days
Text
🟢 Senior Hamas leader Osama Hamdan at Hamas’ press conference today, March 5th 2024:
We are at the doors of the blessed month of Ramadan, and with this Nazi aggression against our people continuing for the 151st day, despite the scale of killing, massacres, and genocide, and the pain of displacement, hunger, and thirst, this Nazi enemy has not achieved any of its aggressive goals.
The image of the erosion of the defeated entity and its war pillars internally is increasingly deteriorating and growing, while the image of our people's steadfastness, patience, strength, and the bravery of our resistance is firm, rooted, and determined to be victorious.
We send our greetings, pride, and honor to our people in the Gaza Strip, who continue their legendary epic of patience and sacrifice. We also send peace and greetings to the victorious Al-Qassam Brigades, the fighting Saraya Al-Quds, and the men of the Palestinian resistance on the land of Gaza of glory, who continue with all strength, capability, will, and determination to forge a legacy of glory for our people and our nation.
The movement has worked seriously and persistently to reach an agreement to stop the aggression, intensify the entry of aid and relief, and return our people to the areas they were displaced from, especially in the north, and for the complete withdrawal of the occupation from the Gaza Strip.
Over the past two days, the movement's vision and stance on the proposal presented to us by our Egyptian and Qatari mediator brothers at the end of last week have been submitted. We affirmed our conditions for a ceasefire, complete withdrawal from the Strip, return of the displaced to their areas, especially to the north, and provision of adequate aid, relief, and reconstruction.
We dealt with the proposals of our brothers in Egypt and Qatar with a high spirit of positivity and flexibility at all stages of the negotiations. However, Netanyahu continues to evade and shirk his responsibilities before his public, for personal political calculations, revealing his fear and terror of his political future and the post-war stage.
We reaffirm that we will not allow the negotiation process to be open-ended with the continuation of the aggression and the war of starvation against our people, nor to serve as a cover for the continuation of more crimes against unarmed civilians, or to buy time to proceed with the genocide against our Palestinian people in the Gaza Strip.
Any prisoner exchange will not take place before securing all the conditions of the resistance, and negotiations will not continue without a prospect.
Any flexibility shown by the movement in the negotiation process to stop the zionist aggression, out of concern for our people's blood and their great sacrifices, is matched by a readiness and determination to continue all forms of struggle and resistance, in defense of our people, our land, our constants, and our sanctities, at the heart of which are Al-Quds and the blessed Al-Aqsa Mosque.
On the 151st day, the zionist war machine, supported by the U.S. administration, has not stopped committing genocide, ethnic cleansing, displacement, starvation, dehydration, and horrific massacres against unarmed civilians and innocents in the Gaza Strip.
All the slogans of humanity, freedom, and justice, which the U.S. administration, who is a partner with this occupation in its crimes and aggression against our people, sings about, have fallen. It has exposed all the hesitant and negligent positions on breaking the unjust siege on the Gaza Strip, relieving its people, healing their wounds, supporting their steadfastness, and putting an end to this continuous zionist crime and aggression.
The tragic situation experienced by the citizens and displaced people in all governorates of the Gaza Strip remains catastrophic and cannot be described or summarized in words.
Disease, hunger, and thirst are now claiming the lives of thousands of our people in the Gaza Strip daily, especially among children, women, and the elderly, as all hospitals are out of service, and sufficient relief and medical supplies fail to reach them.
We confirm to the zionists and the United States that what they failed to impose on the battlefield will not be taken through political machinations, no matter the forms of trickery and pressure they employ. This resistance will remain faithful to the sacrifices, keen on accumulating its outcomes and building upon them until the occupation is defeated.
The war of starvation waged by the occupation for more than five months, especially against civilians in the Gaza and Northern governorates, has forced citizens seeking sustenance for their children to risk their lives and fall into the killing traps set by the fascist occupation.
The complete cutoff of water in the Gaza and Northern governorates increases the suffering of citizens from thirst, due to the unavailability of drinking water and the lack of even non-potable water, due to the occupation's continuous bombing of wells and water stations, and the absence of fuel needed for water extraction.
The continuation of the occupation's war of starvation against our people, targeting aid convoys, and committing massacres against the citizens gathered around them, is a clear insistence by this criminal entity to proceed with the war of genocide and ethnic cleansing, a blatant challenge and disregard for all international laws and humanitarian norms, and for the resolutions of the International Court of Justice.
The occupation at the Al-Nablusi roundabout, which claimed 118 martyrs and hundreds of wounded, who gathered at dawn in anticipation of securing sustenance for hungry children, only to be shot down by the bullets and shells of the Nazi occupation army's vehicles, in a savage crime that is shamefully horrific, followed by a brazen zionist narrative of what happened, disclaiming the crime with utmost arrogance and disdain.
The statement issued by the United Nations Security Council, which was subjected to American pressures and amendments, to finally express "concern" about Al-Nablusi massacre, does not rise up to the level of the crime, and proves once again the impotence that has struck the most important tool of international security in the face of the genocide against our people in the Gaza Strip.
The aid that has been airdropped from several countries is appreciated, but it only meets a tiny fraction of the needs of the people amid the catastrophe in Gaza.
We call on all countries and governments that support the rights of our people and their just cause to find more effective ways to deliver aid, emphasizing the need to open the crossings for its entry by land, to ensure its safe and orderly arrival to its beneficiaries, and to maintain the dignity of Palestinian citizens, with a focus on delivering it to the north where famine is worsening.
The U.S. administration and President Biden personally remain a full partner with the zionist occupation in the genocide our people in the Gaza Strip are subjected to, bearing political, legal, moral, and humanitarian responsibility for the outcomes and repercussions of this aggression. Dropping some relief aid will not cleanse their image stained with the blood of our people.
We say to Biden and the U.S. administration: The most important thing is to stop supplying the Nazi zionist army with weapons, shells, and missiles that rain down on our unarmed people..and that you stop raising your hands to use your veto in the face of the entire world...to give the occupation cover to continue the genocidal crimes against our people.
We call on our Arab and Islamic countries to take practical and serious action to stop the genocide our people are subjected to, and to work seriously on the immediate implementation of the decision of the Arab Islamic summit on November 11 of last year, which emphasized breaking the zionist siege.
We call on the peoples of our Arab and Islamic nation to continue all forms of solidarity, support, and backing for the Palestinian people and our people in the Gaza Strip, and to continue to go out in wide public activities and demonstrations condemning the crimes of the occupation and its aggression, and pressuring governments to take effective and strong positions against the entity.
We renew the call to the peoples of our nation through which the food convoys to the zionist entity pass, to immediately act to prevent their passage, as the minimal form of solidarity with Gaza is to make the criminal realize the dire consequences of his siege on our people.
We call on the international community to effectively press for the full opening of the crossings, end the siege, and allow the entry of aid convoys in sufficient quantities to all areas of the Gaza Strip, especially to Gaza and North Gaza governorates, ensuring these aids reach our besieged people and end their humanitarian suffering.
We demand the activation of the role of international relief institutions, especially UNRWA, to facilitate and organize the entry and distribution of aid, in a way that preserves the dignity of our people.
We call on all governments and institutions in our Arab Islamic nation to use the blessed month of Ramadan as an opportunity to seriously work and press by all means to establish land, sea, and air bridges, and introduce relief aid and field hospitals to all areas of the Gaza Strip, to prevent the continuation of the war of starvation and genocide against more than two million Palestinians.
During the month of Ramadan, we call for intensifying all forms of financial, moral, humanitarian, and charitable support to heal the wounds of our people in the Gaza Strip, support families, the sick, and the wounded, and adopt charitable projects that support their steadfastness in the face of zionist aggression.
We call on all Arab Islamic governments and institutions during the month of Ramadan to work towards partnering in supporting the resistance in Gaza, just as the resistance and fighters in Lebanon, Yemen, and Iraq are doing.
[via RNN]
92 notes · View notes
aphroditelovesu · 4 months
Note
Hey! Can I request a letter for Yandere!Ceaser where he sends to Yandere!Cleopatra after she captured took his darling and is now planning on marrying her?
Queen Cleopatra,
It was betrayal, an act that goes beyond the limits of our understanding. How dare you capture what is mine? (Y/N) is mine, not yours to usurp! Your vile plan to marry them is a direct challenge to my authority and love.
And I will not have anyone taking them from me.
Know, my dear Cleopatra, that the bonds between (Y/N) and me are stronger than any stratagem your cunning mind can devise. If you don't release them immediately, the consequences will be severe and unforgiving. Don't force me to take drastic measures.
(Y/N) is not part of your world, they are just a piece in your attempt to control Rome. Your bravery is admirable, but your attitude toward (Y/N) worries is disgusting.
(Y/N) is a piece of my being, a part of my soul. Your plan to unite them to you in marriage is an affront I cannot tolerate. Do not underestimate the intensity of what I feel for them, as this will trigger consequences that will shake the pillars of Egypt and reach the ends of the earth.
Take care, Cleopatra, because the fury of a man in love is capable of great atrocities. Let you free (Y/N) if you still wishes to maintain your safety and the integrity of all you holds dear.
Yours sincerely,
Julius Caesar.
163 notes · View notes
boyfhee · 1 year
Text
⌕ TAKE TWO ━━ 18 : media left and right
PRECIS. while riki constantly assured you that him being an idol under a different label wouldn't be an issue in your relationship, you start getting second thoughts when fans start shipping him with his co-mc at music bank.
Tumblr media
w : angst ( 1.3k ) screenshots at the end
note : i lied. we still have ynki downfall before miya downfall arc
Tumblr media
you and jungwon are sitting a table apart, being as subtle as possible under your respective masks and caps— a scarf that rests around his neck. it wouldn’t have been necessary but jungwon caught a cold, a nasty cold, all thanks to ice creams and soft drinks that he had with sunghoon and jay from a night ago. you could’ve grabbed the same table as him, but he’s a hotshot idol, you’re in the middle of trying to avoid making it to the headlines for the time being, and this is korea; one could never be careful enough. 
jungwon places an order, asking you if you’d like to have shortcakes too in the process, while you await a phone call from sunghoon and slash or, jay. you could tell yourself to calm down a hundred times but you can’t ignore the sound of your heart beating through your ears, as if it has come all the way up to your head. every beat spells of riki, you every thought revolve around him, a corner of your mind exhibits an image of miya, fingertips tapping on the wooden table. you’re overthinking, and jungwon shifts to your table, his hand on yours, a warmth of comfort shared through his gloves. 
a soft gasp falls off your lips. “jungwon, you—”
“it’s fine,” his hand offered a light squeeze to yours. “we’ll be fine,” it’s more of an order than an affirmation, as if he’s challenging destiny with all he has got on his hands. jungwon doesn’t know why he’s saying things that work around probabilities and luck, and before you ask why, luckily, his phone rings at the right time.
he puts the call on speaker.
“jungwon,” the voice resembles jay, calm and composed, ever so comforting. it would sound poetic but jungwon could recognise that voice even in his dreams, even when he was hanging between life and death. “he’s not here,” 
riki is not at the restaurant. you release a breath that you’ve been holding since the morning arrived. riki isn’t at the bakery either, you think you’ll be fine. 
“this place is packed with reporters, left, right, everywhere,” sunghoon speaks up, which almost sounds like a whisper, as if he’s trying to spill a little secret. “i think there’s a gathering somewhere in here but i’m not too sure,” 
“okay,” and you go silent again, just like the call on the other end. you don’t know what else to say, the four of you have discussed everything already. the plans on the run, your eyes are fixed to the door, you’re hoping for a text from riki— anything, a question, greeting, anything would suffice as long as he reaches you out. 
“you look pale,” a faint chuckle follows his words, it’s an attempt to cheer you up. jungwon speaks of wisdom and bravery but his eyes tell tales of fear. they resemble a place that has been devoid of trust, a hint of insecurity that storms up like seas. sometimes, he wishes he could travel back in time, all the way back to when he befriended you, or the day he informed riki about the offer of being an mc. perhaps, the day he was falling for you.
jungwon wishes he could reverse it all. 
“i’m scared,” you finally confess. “i don’t think i’m ready to accept that he’s cheating on me.” 
“we don’t know if he’s cheating on you or not,” even though everything points in that direction, he wants to add but he holds himself back. the truth is, jungwon could easily be another miya for you and riki if he tried hard enough. he has known you for longers, had been there on days on called him over a fight with your boyfriend, was present on evenings riki needed him. he knows of everything your relationship is based upon and every pillar that could destroy it if once broken down. he’s aware of every single thing that could shatter your relationship to pieces, and he could’ve played the same games as miya to be able to call you his’. 
saying he doesn’t understand the reasons behind miya’s actions would be a lie, reasoning them would be plain idiocy. maybe, this is where he draws a line between his feelings for you and the feelings that miya has for riki. 
“and god forbid, what if he is?” your words are laced with annoyance and sorrow, a part of it resonated with regret. maybe, you should’ve been there for him more. perhaps, instead of trying to make friends with other idols, you should’ve stood next to riki backstage. if only you didn’t turn down his constant requests for a date or movie nights, things would’ve been different. while a part of you knows that this is the career you’ve been aiming for almost all your life, you could only imagine how things would’ve been the other way ‘round. “how would you feel about it?” 
jungwon takes a minute, perhaps two. on other days, he would’ve said he would hit riki with the nearest object, or something. but now, when he’s actually here sitting so close to the truth, facing reality, jungwon doesn’t know how he would feel. anger, disgust, shame, he couldn’t express those emotions for the sake of the group, as for ignorance, jungwon has never been the person who doesn’t care. 
“i don’t know,” so, he responds truthfully. “i don’t know if i could look at him the same way,” 
“but we don’t know if he’s actually cheating on me,” and you’re back to the same old words of affirmations. you’ve said it so many times, it doesn’t even sound like a sentence anymore. “we don’t know,” 
and just like that, an hour passes by. 
another sixty minutes of hoping and praying, of texting with sunghoon and jay while sharing updates about nothing. every passing second soothes your heart but also scares you more than ever. it could be that riki and miya are on a date somewhere else, somewhere that’s not the bakery or the restaurant. the possibilities are many, and your heart could only handle so much pain. 
“i think she was trying to pull a prank,” sunghoon sighs amidst the call. “i mean, c’mon, she had the perfect chance to end everything for you and riki but she didn’t take it. the date was probably a lie,” 
they say, the sound level of human breath is ten decibels, and a soft whisper is thirty. is one were to laugh even with all their modesty, you think it’d be a little around forty. yet still, you don’t think it’’ll be loud enough to travel all the way down to the floor below, coherent enough for someone to identify who it belongs to. 
unfortunately, you’ve always been an exception to general norms of nature. 
“yn, are you there?” jay asks, but you hang up, making your way to the stairs right behind your table. jungwon grabs your hand, a gaze full of questions. you pay no attention, slowly making your way up as your heart beats faster than you think was possible. fingers crossed, you walk up, the sound getting clearer while your vision gets blurry. 
a last step, you’re holding your breath. you wish this wasn’t true, but riki was sitting with miya at a table, and you feel like a part of you just died. there’s a smile on her face, jungwon attempts to walk to his groupmate before you stop him in the way. 
“let’s leave,” you’re walking away hoping he would chase, riki calls her name, a single tear rolls down your cheek. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PREV | NEXT | MASTERLIST
486 notes · View notes
braimin · 9 days
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/braimin/745152249971507200/do-you-think-when-theres-bugs-in-the-galley-zoro?source=share
You could turn this into angst by having a bug land on Sanji while these negotiations happen or have Zoro play a prank on Sanji a put a bug on him and like. Sanji freaks out So Bad that he hurts himself just so he can stop feeling the bug crawling on him. And then after that whenever Sanji asks him to get rid of a bug he'll do it no questions asked he doesn't even ask for anything in return
Bestie you have an evil mind ✨
The straw hats go traveling through an island with a huge abandoned castle and immediately Luffy and Nami want to go look in it for treasure. Nami splits up with Usopp and Luffy, Robin and Chopper are off getting supplies in the near by town and Franky and Brook stay behind on the ship; which leaves Sanji and Zoro to travel by themselves. Nami tells them to go looking around in the creepy woods area behind the castle. After walking around for a long time they find these catacomb things and when Sanji looks away from him Zoro ends up halfway down the stairs. So Sanji, of course, has to follow him. It's your typical catacomb, dark halls, creepy noises, spider webs, but for the most part there's not many bugs present and it's calm.
Until they turn a corner and Zoro accidentally triggers something that closes up the hall behind them and opens a pit of fucking spiders in front of them. There's a pillar across the pit that says basically says this is a test of bravery, it's all engraved in fancy handwriting and is written like a riddle. Zoro reads it aloud and says 'Yeah, we're in the right place there's definitely treasure down here.' But Sanji can not go through that pit, even if his dear Nami would want him to, he just can't. So he looks to Zoro for help.
'Don't even ask Cook, 'm not carrying you through that.' The bastard doesn't flinch when Sanji kicks him in the stomach. 'Why not ? You know how much I can't stand bugs. I can't even turn back because there's a wall behind us now.' And of course Zoro hits him with the 'What's in it for me ?'
'Sake. The best of the best, for three weeks.' Zoro considers it for a moment, then shakes his head. 'Not good enough.'
'Why ?' Sanji feels like he can hear the things crawl around and it's making his stomach turn. 'Cause you're gonna flail around and it's gonna slow me down and then they're gonna get in my clothes.'
Sanji wants to puke, why would Zoro put that image in his head ? It's like he can feel them on his skin already and he isn't anywhere near the edge of the pit yet. 'Well what is good enough ? What can I do to make you carry me.'
Zoro takes a moment to think, the longer the stand in this enclosed space with spiders the more Sanji feels like he's gonna lose it. 'Hurry up Marimo. I don't want to be in here.' Zoro turns to glare at him, 'You bein a brat isn't helping your case right now.' Sanji is about to kick him again when he feels it, movement against the back of his neck.
His scream echoes off the walls and he's so anxious and terrified of the bugs that he doesn't take a second to think it might not be one. Zoro jumps next to him and moves to grab Sanji but it's already too late, in his panic Sanji whips around, rubbing his hand over his neck. As he turns he back up just a touch to far, he feels his heel slip against the edge of the pit. Zoro's hand is just a breath too slow and Sanji falls.
Panic immediately turns into sheer terror, the bugs, the dark, the sound of his own voice bouncing off stone walls; all of it is too much. He's pretty sure he blacked out for a minute because the next time he opens his eyes he's on the other side of the pit, leaned against the pillar. He's vaguely aware of Zoro's voice, but he can't focus enough to really hear what's being said. He still feels like there's spiders on him, he rubs down his arms, trying to brush anything off. He's scared they're in his hair or god what if they're in his clothes-
'Sanji, I checked, nothing is on you I swear. Just breathe, okay?' Zoro's voice is suddenly louder than it was before. 'You're alright, you're good. I'm sorry I didn't just carry you.' Sanji doesn't think he's ever heard Zoro speak so nicely to anyone other than Chopper, at the very least he's never spoken so softly to him. Sanji takes a breath and tries to focus on what he says as he repeats his words.
It takes a few more minutes for his breathing to even out, and a few more for him to feel like he can stand again. He's exhausted and embarrassed. But Zoro doesn't seem annoyed by the way Sanji acted, instead he's more concerned. He asks if Sanji wants to be carried the rest of the way and Sanji genuinely would kick his ass if he didn't look so sincere when he said it. He does still give him a kick to the back, because he is fully capable of walking around, Marimo. Zoro sticks close to him while the walk the path. When they do find some interesting, valuable looking items the swordsman is very insistent that he be the only one carrying anything. And luckily there's another hall past the chamber they find their 'treasure' in that leads back outside.
After that lovely adventure Sanji notices Zoro has developed an actual vendetta against all bugs. He's catching flies mid-air, killing every spider he sees, he starts using haki on the crates of food they bring in just to make sure there's no bugs. Any creepy-crawly is immediately murdered if it enters Zoro's general vicinity.
108 notes · View notes
likehoneyandsilk · 4 months
Text
I Wanna Be Yours
Tumblr media
Hi everyone! This is a draft I have been playing around with. As per my last post, I am trying out something new. This would be a short multipart piece of writing, however, it is not my usual style. That being said, I wanted to get across some content for feedback and opinions! This may flourish or very well end up back in my drafts. Regardless, it is worth a share! Thank you!
P.S. To get a vibe for what this will be think of "Strangers" by Kenya Grace!
. . .
Any lucid person would tell Savina she was being played by the strings. Like a puppet, twisted, and turned in all directives at the hands of her puppeteer. Filled with life at his convenience. But together, they satisfied each other's desires, the appetite for comfort and comradery. Together, they kindled fires so passionate and uncontainable. What was malignant was also nourishing.
And when he held Savina, she melted like snow underneath a scorching hot sun. Sensed herself wilt into fragments as he pressed his lips to hers, so soft at times and others so intense she believed the butterflies in her stomach would burst. When he replenished her air with his laughter, Savina spiraled into a cordial and pleasant world. And when he pressed into her, yearned every inch of her golden skin, and looked into her doe eyes, she swore she saw glimpses of heaven across his ocean blues.
It all began three months ago when she had caught his eye at a charity affair hosted by the Bengals. Savina was the creative lead for the organization of the event, representing her company with exhibited ease and tranquility, but inside she rippled with anxiety. For the next year, her company was to manage all charitable events held by the Cincinnati Bengals. The pressure to be successful and receive a well-deserved promotion hung above Savina's head like a grey cloud, lingering to storm down on her. She counted down the minutes till she could flee, take refuge in her tiny apartment, and adequately breathe.
One could never see the battles Savina played in her head. Because on the outside, to the dashingly bestowed bachelor in all of Cincinnati, Joe Burrow watched this woman with pure attentiveness, averting his lingering gaze as he worked the bravery to approach her. She dazzled in a black ankle-length dress, hugging her hips just enough and falling effortlessly around her lower limbs. Her breasts were round and full, graced with the black fabric, but not enough to hide the last few lines of an unintelligible script in a tiny black font that peaked from underneath. The straps resting on her shoulder were barely an inch thick. Leaning against a pillar, cradling a half-empty glass of sparkling water, Joe observed the astonishing stranger's doe brown eyes, surrounded by thick black lashes moving around the room.
And suddenly he felt time freeze. His breath hitched in his throat. He was speechless. A haste washed over Joe, the need to speak to the woman before him, to fill her attention with his existence only. Yet, before he could put one foot in front of the other, her cheeks burned red and she turned away, that long jet-black curled hair bouncing with every step she took.
Savina's hands trembled with nerves. Her body felt heavy, her senses foggy when she found his eyes on her. There was a limit to the extent of their paths crossing. Too much was on the line. The peak of her career lay in this event, and had she been seen locking eyes and trading longing glances at the untouchable man, she could have kissed all her dreams and aspirations away. Joe Burrow meant trouble, despite whatever miracle had sparked his attention in her, she had far too much to lose.
Mortified at how far her thoughts permitted her to proceed, how silly it seemed that she was convinced he had taken a liking to her, Savina set aside her drink and busied herself with the event. Presenting herself as efficient and professional, she lingered around the peripheral vision of her boss, who she doubted would even recognize her hard work as he was now numerous margaritas into the night. But to dismiss the urge she felt to meet the lingering gaze of the quarterback as he discreetly watched her move about the room, she occupied her time with the event.
Just before midnight, the bar made the last call. Savina watched as the few remaining guests made their way for whatever they could get their hands on. Thoroughly sober, yet she felt like she was hungover. She had found solitude in a corner of the event space, far from the bright lights and embellishments. She sat atop an unused speaker, leaning her head back against the wall. It was no lie that she had sought out Joe in the crowd. He was impossible to forget. All eyes seemed to fall on him. 6'4", athletic physique, and despite sporting a black suit like many of the men in attendance, he appeared to stand out the most. He smiled guilelessly, baby blue eyes sparkling underneath the lights. Every few seconds when he appeared overwhelmed, he ran a hand through his hair, emerging ever so effortlessly unshakable.
The lights of the bar had fallen dim. The music ceased playing and Savina watched her boss stumble up the steps of the stage, thanking everyone for attending. She stood up, tidying her dress, as she made her way to join the crowd. Engrossed in her boss's horrid speech, she awaited her name to leave his lips, to acknowledge that she had done well, at least some ounce of credit into organizing this event. Unbeknownst to her, she stood next to Joe, hardly reaching his Adam's apple even in her heels. Joe's heart beat profusely in his chest as he watched her through his peripherals.
Up close, despite not being in clear view, she was sensational. The blush embellishing the apples of her cheeks had faded, the rose pink hue now a reminder of the night. Her lustrous lips curled up in a smile and soon fell into a straight line, the glimmer in her eyes abruptly fading as the chocolate brown darkened into charcoal. Forcing his peaked interest away from her, Joe watched the intemperate man before them, dawdle down the steps. A muffled applause fell through the room, and Joe felt a shift in the air when he turned to his side.
The nameless stranger hung her head low. Her hands clutched the silk fabric of her dress. Her hair fell around her, and then behind her as she straightened herself. As if slipping back into reality, she turned her head, tilting it upward to finally allow her eyes to meet his. Her features displayed scraps of dissatisfaction and regret. Joe wondered if he could wish away all her pain. He opened his mouth to speak as bodies moved around them, and all at once he could tell she felt suffocated. Her eyes screamed, and her frame became timid as the crowd moved around her. The lights above them began to dim, and she occurred to freeze.
His mouth went dry. His vision was hazy. He reached out a hand, despite the voices in his head pleading him to stop.
He leaned down, his lips inches from her ear. Savina felt as if she might faint, from his proximity integrated with the irritation she felt towards her boss. All those weeks of hard work faded with the lights as the event closed. But Joe was saying something, and she flinched the slightest when his hand rested on the small of her back. She eased against him, preserving her energy and tuning out all noise to clear her head.
"I know a place you can get some air."
She filled his nostrils with a floral scent, so rich and exquisite. He smelled masculine. Like bergamot and applewood. Together they seemed to harmonize so well.
Savina gulped, nodding her head, and missed the feeling as his hand parted from her body all too quickly. She followed his large and tall frame through the crowd. He steered her towards coat check. As if playing coy all too well he remained a few steps away, fiddling with his phone. He nodded reassuringly as she met his eyes from the line.
Every muscle in her body tensed. Every inch of skin tingled.
Her mouth was parched as she fiddled through her purse for the coat check slip. Offering it to the attendant she watched them vanish into a room full of racks. Savina inhaled a large breath, holding in the air before releasing it.
Get it together Savina. She watched Joe scan the room, his demeanor impatient. He knew he was crossing a line. But so was she.
Joe backed away gradually, eyes scattering around the emptying room before forcing open a door that read "NO ENTRY UNLESS AUTHORIZED" with his back. Savina fell behind, as she scurried after him, flailing her coat around her. As she approached the door, she seemed to recall the reluctance to engage with this man in the earlier hours. All that still stood profound. She promised herself not to pivot from her goal.
Joe was not visible on the flight of steps that led to another door when Savina stopped to breathe in the solitude of the poorly lit room. It smelled of floor cleaner, remains of pine and citrus evident in the air. The voices faded completely, and Savina listened to the footsteps on the other side buffer with each passing second. Either she turns back now and forgets all this happened, or she takes a gamble on her screaming heart.
The air was crisp. Bitterly cold Joe stood against the concrete balcony. Below him, vehicles passed by as specks of light, faster and faster. It was early October, yet the city had nestled into an early Winter coldness. The sky was clear above him. A few scattered stars sparkled, adorning the full moon that seemed within reach this high up. Dispersed cigarette butts littered the ground. Two empty lawn chairs sat underneath a lone umbrella perched within a discarded glass patio table.
Joe feigned composure. His hands rested in his pockets. His nose was slightly red from the cold. With his head bowed, he shifted his gaze between the door behind him and the scene below him. After what felt like a century, the door screeched open, closing behind her with such a loud bang it felt as if it vibrated through the ground.
Slowly, Savina made her way to him. Her heels clicked against the concrete. The bare skin of her legs became scattered with goosebumps. Her lungs felt fully expanded despite the iciness that settled around her. It felt good to catch a breath of true air. Joe turned, catching his eyes with her once again. An invisible string between them pulled them close. Savina found herself situated next to him, her gaze now shifted to the passing city beneath them. She could feel his eyes on her, and she wondered if he could hear how loudly her heart banged against her chest, or how red her cheeks had become.
Willing herself to speak, Savina sighed. But before she could spill out a single phrase, Joe spoke.
"My name is Joe." He offered her his hand, suggesting a handshake.
"Savina." Her voice came out quiet. She carefully positioned her hand in his grasp, and he held it so gently, and when they parted, she felt every electric speck flutter through her as his skin brushed against hers.
"How do you feel now Savina?" Gosh, how her name sounded out of his mouth. Joe's voice was both manly and soft. His eyes conveyed concern and prominent interest. He seemed the least bit flustered, but his calm and cool composure kept Savina grounded and at the same time craving him in all aspects. Savina smiled, slowly curling her lips into a smile.
"A lot better. The best I've felt all night." Joe watched her teeth graze her bottom lip. He stood straighter. A boyish smirk washed over his lips. A cold breeze passed between them. "I take it that asshole was your boss?" Taken aback by his word choice Savina could not help but laugh. She felt unrestrained. Her body was both filled with energy and glow. Joe watched the woman before him unfold. Her laughter was music to his ears.
"That would be true." Savine sighed, leaning against the balcony. A newfound surge of confidence reigned over her, that dark storm cloud above her head slowly evaporating.
"I was the organizational lead for this event. I work for Commons Corporate. This was my big break to show him what I've got, and to be frank, I think he won't remember a single thing."
Savina nodded disapprovingly as she confirmed her thoughts, pulling her hair behind her ears. Her eyes fell to the ground. Her confidence began to quiver, the recognition she would be frowned upon for engaging with a player beyond professionalism.
But she was lonesome. She craved camaraderie and consolation. She desired all the urges a young woman who found refuge in her apartment did.
"I think the event was amazing. And I can't stand men who can't give credit to women when it's worth." Joe inched closer, pulling Savina's attention from the ground back to him. His body emitted heat. Savina was convinced underneath the layers, his body was warm and tender.
"Thanks." The whispered word barely leaving her mouth was audible. Their eyes fell from the others to their lips, the energy around them begging them to do something.
"Savina?'
"Mhmm?"
Savina stepped closer. Joe's arm wrapped around her frame, underneath her coat. Savina shuddered.
"Is this okay?"
Savina nodded, cradling her head against his hand as he rested it against her cheek. "And this?"
Savina nodded again, stepping even closer till her body pressed against his.
"Savina, can I kiss you?"
Joe's blue eyes merged a shade darker. His frame towered over hers, in a way that was protective yet flushed her body with deep desire. He tilted her head towards him even more. "You tell me to stop and I will Savina."
Please don't stop.
"I want you to kiss me."
And with that, his lips were on hers. Every ounce of desperation filled Savina as his lips moved against her. He was delicate, holding her as if she were a feather, and kissing her so gingerly. Joe tuned her, her core pressed against his and she gasped, a rush of blood surging to her cheeks. His arms netled her against him, her own wrapped around his neck. She leaned back as he inclined into her, never once breaking their kiss, as her head dipped above the city below them.
"Savina, god damn it," Joe muttered against her lips, lifting her off her feet as he situated her on the edge of the balcony.
"Joe!" Savina gripped Joe's arms, eyes frantic as she forced herself not to look down.
"Easy, easy." He cooed, instantly calming her nerves as he pulled her off, twisting her body so that he leaned against the balcony now. "I wouldn't let you fall."
Joe Burrow was a stranger. A well-known man in the city, but truly and logically a stranger. Yet Savina trusted him blindly, a flutter of her heart telling her she was safe.
Savina was flush against his chest, her lips inches from his.
He held her so close. How could one feel so at ease when you just met them?
"What are you thinking about?" Joe watched Savina's brown eyes darken, a sudden plead of desire clouding over any logical thought. He'd be a fool to say he didn't present her with the same.
"We shouldn't be doing this." Her hand wrapped around his. She pulled away from him, tugging him with her. She walked backward, pulling him with her.
"We shouldn't." They stopped at the closed door, possibly the barrier to their separate ways. Savina's back pressed against the door, her hand still within Joe's own. Joe held the latch in his free hand, hindering the door from opening.
What they felt was electric. What they desired lay in the other.
What they needed was each other.
. . .
Friendly reminder to let me know what you think! Opinions/constructive criticism welcomed, my interactive options on my page are open! Thank you again loves!
98 notes · View notes
halobirthdays · 4 months
Text
Happy birthday to Sergeant Major Avery Johnson!
Today is his -451st birthday!
Tumblr media
Johnson was born and raised by his maternal aunt in Chicago, who kept him in tidy hand-me-downs and dutifully brought him to church. He enlisted in the UNSC when he was nineteen, believing the Insurrection to be a threat to innocent people. He quickly stood out among his peers and was hand-selected for the newly-instituted ORION project, an attempt at creating a new form of biologically enhanced soldiers to quell the Insurrection.
Avery underwent the training and augmentations, well-exceeding his superiors' expectations. However, the program as a whole was not the success the UNSC was hoping for, and was deactivated, though ORION would be used as the blueprint of the SPARTAN project. Johnson was reassigned to the marines.
He was then deployed to Tribute, where he failed to prevent an Insurrectionist terrorist from blowing up a diner, leading to several dozen civilian deaths. These events left him shaken, and he returned home to Chicago, only to find that his aunt had died. He spiraled, falling into a drinking binge and only recovering when a recruiter stumbled upon him in a gutter. The recruiter convinced Johnson to reenlist, and he was deployed to Harvest.
While on Harvest, the UNSC made contact with Kig-Yar, the first ever interaction between humanity and the Covenant. However, peace quickly failed, and he was involved in the very firsr battles of the Human-Covenant war.
This early experience would prove invaluable, and he was deployed on several key missions following these events. During OPERATION: SILENT STORM, he met Blue Team for the first time, and they earned his respect, with Johnson backing up John as leadership became accustomed to the Spartans. He also helped protect them when he accurately deduced that the Spartans were being targeted by Hector Nyeto.
Johnson continued to serve all the way up to the fall of Reach and the discovery of Installation 04. When the Covenant attacked the Pillar of Autumn, Johnson, along with the rest of the crew, landed on the Halo. Johnson and Keyes investigated intel from a captured Sangheili about a weapons cache on the ring. They found the Flood instead. Johnson survived as the Flood infected his squad and ultimately survived Halo's destruction when he was later discovered by Master Chief.
Following these events, Johnson received a promotion and Colonial Cross for his bravery on Halo, but the award ceremony was cut short when the Covenant attacked Earth. After chasing the Covenant forces off of the planet, Johnson and the In Amber Clad's crew discovered a second Halo installation.
He joined Commander Miranda Keyes to the Halo in search of the activation index to prevent the Covenant from firing the array. However, they were ambushed by Arbiter Thel 'Vadam and taken hostage by Tartarus and his Jiralhanae.
Keyes was brought to the control room to activate the ring while Johnson was about to be executed until they were interrupted by an attack from the Arbiter and the newly-formed Covenant separatists. Johnson then convinced Thel to join forces to stop Tartarus from activating the ring, coordinating the first cease-fire between their species.
After learning the purpose of the Ark and the location of the portal on Earth that would take them there, Johnson, Keyes, and Thel raced back to warn Earth of the coming Covenant invasion. Johnson followed Truth after helping to coordinate a joint UNSC-Sangheili mission to the Ark.
Johnson and his squad were overwhelmed by the Covenant forces at the Citadel. His squad was killed, and he was taken hostage again because the Halos can only be activated by a human. Truth attempted to use Johnson to activate the Halo array, but was stopped by Keyes, who planned on killing Johnson and herself so there would not be humans for Truth to use. However, she hesitated, and Truth used the opportunity to kill her. His victory was short-lived, with Master Chief and the Arbiter arriving shortly thereafter, killing Truth and preventing the rings from firing.
With the pressing danger gone, the UNSC and Sangheili forces focused on Flood containment. Following Cortana's plan, they decided to destroy the partially-built replacement for Installation 04. While Guilty Spark initially agreed with this action, he did not realize that the UNSC intended on destroying his replacement installation--he thought they were going to activate the ring when it was complete. When Johnson corrected him, Spark turned on them, killing Johnson with a sentinel beam.
The loss of Johnson was mourned widely, especially for John but also by Cortana and Thel, who both expressed their condolences. At Johnson's request, John "kicked [Spark's] ass" and activated the ring.
86 notes · View notes
regulusrules · 1 year
Text
You know what's so special about this scene aside from its destructive irony?
Tumblr media
It's that Arthur is addressing Merlin as if he was his knight for real, acknowledging all the times Merlin stood by his side so fearlessly (something we rarely got: thanks bbc writers). At this point, Arthur began to see Merlin as his 𝘬𝘪𝘯 not just his servant, and for a prince who grew up never knowing how to express admiration, he could only voice it in terms of honour.
Which takes us to another point actually; why did Arthur never really knight him? In 3×12? Or when he became king?
Tumblr media
At first I shrugged it as the writers' fault (as with everything) because they were always so inconsistent specifically with Arthur's characterization. But while writing to you I swear my solemn oaths, a different lense just popped in front of my eyes and nested in my soul and brain.
Arthur wanted to protect Merlin from himself.
Let's be real; these two had zero point zero self-saving instincts. They blatantly expressed how they would live and die for each other. They fought on who to do it literally every episode when Arthur was not robbed of making that choice. But elevating Merlin's status would've strained their relationship. How?
Because it labels their unwavering loyalty to each other. It solidifies that they were merely just master-servant, not the earthshaking combination they were. It threatens to erase how Arthur always viewed Merlin as his pillar of strength, because if he knights Merlin he could no longer favour him and his companionship over the rest.
Also, knighting Merlin would have required for Arthur to first accept the fact that it's Merlin's duty to be there with Arthur, not because Merlin wants that any longer. Being given everything on a silver platter from the start only for Merlin to be the only one who denied him this narrative and was real with him, this is something Arthur could never let go of.
Tumblr media
Lastly, knighting Merlin would have involved Arthur making peace with the fact that Merlin is OBLIGATED to die for him, and I don't think he could've ever accepted that. Even if he always took Merlin with him everywhere, he did it because he always believed he had Merlin's back and that he'll be there to protect him. This reciprocation of loyalty is so important to Arthur that if he ever knighted Merlin it would completely overthrow their little status quo they created for the two of them only.
So there is no denying the fact that Arthur really always saw strength and bravery in Merlin that surpasses any knight, but he never acted on knighting Merlin because he never wanted to put him in that position.
Tumblr media
505 notes · View notes
tiny-james · 4 months
Text
Bigger in The Inside
3k. G!Tenth Doctor, t!Donna. Growth, claustrophobic elements, fluff.
"We're almost there. Stay with me, Spaceman!"
The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a groan as Donna all but dragged him toward the TARDIS. The planet they'd landed on was supposedly known for beautiful fragrant fruits, which Donna had eaten far too many of. But it was also home to some sort of weird snake…things. Donna didn't know what they were, only that The Doctor had been bitten. He was so pale he was almost blue, his eyes wide and hazy as his trainers dragged in the soft loam. She didn't know what else to do but take him back to where she knew it was safe. A fat lot of good she was.
As soon as the door closed behind them, she sighed with hesitant relief, pulling him toward the console, propping him up against it. "There! We're here! Now do something!" She growled at him.
The Doctor struggled to keep upright, shaking as he blearily looked around. "I think… If I just…" With muscle memory, he set the TARDIS to flight mode, and she gently materialised in space, safe in the deep blue. "I can find a way to…metabolise the venom."
Donna stood helplessly, tears she hadn't noticed on her cheeks. "You'd bleedin' well better." She hovered as he moved to collapse on the seats, tugging his tie loose, his brows knitted. "Tell me what I can do for you."
He swallowed hard. "I just have to…oh, my head." Exhaling, he shuddered. Then he shuddered again. And Donna noticed a sharp creak of the seats beneath him.
"D…Doctor…?" She wondered if she was seeing things. But his knees were bent at an acute angle rather than the 90 degrees they usually rest at when he sat. And then they touched his chest. "Doctor!"
"Can you please not shout? I'm trying to…metabolise?" He seemed to notice what was going on and got to his feet shakily, a rush of vertigo proving that he stood at almost eight feet tall. And still growing. "Oh. Oops."
"...'OOPS'?!" Donna gasped incredulously. "Stop it! If you outgrow the TARDIS we'll die!"
The Doctor shook his head. Ten feet tall. "We won't die. I'm much more likely to break under my own weight." Fifteen feet, thirty, and Donna scrambled backward as his head bumped the ceiling. "I have to think this through. What am I doing wrong, what caused this…?" He began to ramble to himself and still he grew, having to sit in order to fit.
Donna ran toward the wall of the TARDIS, pressing herself against it, her heart in her throat. Yeah, he said he wouldn't outgrow the ship, but he'd been wrong before. What if he simply burst through and she was sucked out into space? What if before then he grew so much he crushed her? Everything was too much, too fast, she couldn't breathe, couldn't move, and she closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breath, pretending that the scientific ramblings weren't becoming louder and more booming.
He'd fix this. He had to.
It was a few moments later, after a cacophony of crashes and bangs, that she heard an 'AHA!' that made her head feel as if it would burst. "Oh, the quantum protein of the venom reacted with the time radiation inside the TARDIS and my metabolism activated a protonic duplication matrix."
"In English!" She yelled, eyes still tight, not wanting to look at him. Just in case she saw her actions killing both her and her best friend.
"Spacey wacey, the venom made me big. I think I've stopped it for now, but I'll need to make a negative protonic field." He paused for a moment, then she heard his voice lower. "Are you alright? Was it a bit too much? It's fine, we're okay now. Safe in the TARDIS."
She took a breath, then looked up with all the bravery she could muster. Her first instinct was to laugh. She had never seen anyone contort their body like he had, one leg wrapped around the console, opposite foot against the wall so that his knee pressed against his head. His backside was wedged between two of the pillars, one arm folded over his abdomen tightly and the other seemingly caught behind his head, elbow pinned against the ceiling.
"You are insane!" She shouted up at him, feeling her palms sweat from how he towered over her, how a single move would reduce her to a stain. But he was The Doctor, and she trusted him with her life. "God, are you not claustrophobic?"
He tried to shake his head, but he couldn't go beyond a few inches. "I'm alright. Bit uncomfortable, but I'll get used to it."
Donna gaped slightly. "You really don't seem all that concerned to suddenly change size!"
Smiling a little, he attempted an awkward shrug. "Lifetimes ago I shrank to about half an inch. Seems only right I should get this experience too, really."
Half an inch? The thought was both terrifying and oddly satisfying. She could imagine holding him in her hand, her tiny little Doctor. Though he was so thin he might just look like a splinter.
"So how are we getting out of this?"
He exhaled, his breath gusting around the console room and making Donna hiss as her hair blew around her head. "I'm afraid you're gonna have to pilot the TARDIS." He said, the right arm over his stomach unfolding to beckon her over. "I'll tell you what to do, but you'll need to get her to a certain moon. The solo-vibrational magnetics will make my change a lot quicker."
Donna swallowed nervously as she approached. Almost the entire way around the console, his leg acted like a barrier, and she was sure he wouldn't be able to move it for her. With a puff of anxiety, she mounted his ankle with some difficulty, balancing on it with a wobble and spreading her arms as she tried to walk up his calf. She was standing on him. On top of him. "God, this is weird."
"It tickles." He chuckled. "I don't think you're going to be able to get around the console fast enough with me in the way. I'll have to hold you."
Her head snapped up just in time to see a gigantic hand rushing toward her. "Wait, wait, WAIT!" She managed, just before his thin fingers coiled around her in a loose fist, lifting her from her feet. "OI! You can't just pick me up, I'm not a bloody doll!"
He paused, and turned his wrist so he could open his hand. She scrambled to sit, chest heaving as she tried to calm down. "I'm sorry." He mumbled sheepishly. "Look, I'll lift you around the console and tell you what to do, okay? I'd do it myself if my fingers weren't the size of your body."
She sighed and held tight to his thumb, trying to wrap her head around the fact that she was in his hand. Every little movement felt so odd, every drum of his four beat pulse thrumming through her. "Alright. What first?"
It was certainly a learning curve for both of them. The Doctor tried not to get stressed as she misunderstood one or two directions, Donna tried not to get stressed as he whizzed her around the console so fast that she felt queasy, his hand slowly moving around her so that he was basically holding her like his sonic screwdriver. Levers and buttons and wheels and switches, she wished it was as easy as punching in a date or coordinates. However, soon the machine began to whirr, and both of them grinned as the TARDIS took flight, obeying Donna wonderfully.
Using a single finger, The Doctor pulled the monitor to his face at the maximum extension of its reach. "Wait… I need my glasses. I can't…" He tried to move his left arm to reach into his pocket, but he couldn't, and his right wasn't at the correct angle to grab them.
"Honestly… Contacts!" Donna grumbled, pushing at his fingers like she was throwing off a quilt. She carefully walked down his arm, which he held still so she didn't fall, and climbed up his sleeve until she was level with his inside pocket. "Alright. Now, if I get lost in your clothes, no poking fun later." With that, she carefully stood on his top button, the little hammock of cloth being a good foothold, and she peered across his chest to where his pocket hid. He tried so hard not to move as her journey tickled him, biting his lip as she carefully climbed across his shirt and dropped into his pocket with a soft grunt.
"Can you lift them?" He asked, and she felt her stomach tickle at the rumble of his voice through his body.
"I'll manage." She hooked her hands beneath them and hoisted them upward, soon shifting so she was beneath them, and shoving them up with a strength she didn't know she had. She heard them clatter as they hit the floor of the TARDIS, then the click of him opening them to put them on. "Wait, how come you didn't grow out of your clothes? Not that I'm complaining, obviously I don't want to see anything, but why?"
Everything moved with a short jolt and she realised that he'd shrugged. "Let's call it a gift from the TARDIS, eh? Now, I have to do a couple of calculations so…"
Getting the message, Donna waited in his pocket, her arms needing a moment before she climbed out again. She closed her eyes in the warm darkness and listened to his double heartbeat and slow breaths, glad of a little rest after all of that chaos. She wondered about if she'd been the one bitten. The Doctor could make his body do things that she couldn't do with hers. So she might have died. A scary thought. Perhaps this was a preferable situation after all.
"Right… So if I… Brilliant." He sounded like he was smiling. "If I just flip this lever the TARDIS should step out of sync for just a moment, leaving us behind, and then I can work out this cramp."
"All that manhandling me, and you just have to move a lever?!" Donna growled out, and she heard him snort with amusement, huffing and crossing her arms. The whirr of the TARDIS grew fainter, already muffled by the cloth surrounding her, and then a sudden lurch of movement made her yelp.
The Doctor shifted clumsily away from the landing point of the TARDIS, and she materialised back where she'd been, and he hummed. "I could hold her in one hand. My TARDIS…"
"Getting a little stuffy in here." Donna called up, and she heard his 'oops' as if he'd forgotten she was in there. Fingers nudged the pocket open, and she held tight to them as they pinched her sides, lifting her into the sunlight and setting her onto the ground. The moon seemed to lack any sort of life aside from a thick carpet of blue moss, which she sank into pleasantly as she stood. The air was sweet and earthy, and she took a lungful of it with glee. "Really glad I don't have to ride around in there full time." She said, turning to him. And then she stopped.
He stretched his arms up, so so far into the lilac sky, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. His converse in front of her were thick enough that she'd need to jump to sit on them. Even looking up at him was dizzying, his thin form seeming to scrape the sky. "Oh, that's better." He groaned as he shook out his sore arms. Then he looked down at her with that charming grin. "Thank you for that."
"Sure." Donna said in much too small a voice for her mouth. "God, you're big."
"Oh, yeah, sorry." He lowered himself to his stomach for her, chin in his palms. "Now I'm not so cramped, I don't feel in as much of a rush." He laughed, and she gave his arm a kick with a small scowl. "Hey, it's not like I'm about to explode or anything. If you're that impatient, you can fetch me the protonic stability shift drive. Third grating on the left of the entrance, it's a silvery blue hourglass looking thing, with a purple tube around the middle."
Donna grumbled, stomping her way into the TARDIS. She felt a rumble through her feet and looked out into the mossy meadow to see that he'd flopped onto his back, clearly languishing in his happiness at not being packed up like a sardine. Following his directions, she rummaged through a whole lot of random bits of space junk until she found what she was looking for. Something caught her eye, and she poked at it with the toe of her shoe.
"What's this wicker basket?"
"Oh, that's a trinket I picked up at a Falorian bazaar. It produces any food at any quantity, using mild psychic energy. There's no nutritional value to it, purely entertainment for the mouth. It'll fill you up for a while, but it's no more nourishing than water."
She hummed as she picked it up, surprised at how little it weighed. "Like chewing gum."
"No. But if it helps, yes." She hated when he did that. Regardless, she took both of them outside, setting the basket down and holding the thingummy out to the Doctor. "Ah. Right, big fingers. Twist the middle tube a half turn to the right, flip it over, and punch in 615072309548.“
She didn't need to be told twice. She was very good with numbers, after all. The device began to hum, and she passed him it when he offered a hand, then put it on his chest as he stretched out again. "So, that's it?"
"For now. It'll take a while to calibrate." He turned his head, and she startled a little when his eyes came level with her, staring at her form. "What food did you fancy from that?"
Donna tore her eyes away from his gigantic face, looking at the basket. "Honestly, I'm craving a banoffee pie." As soon as she said that, she could smell fruit and cream. Slowly lifting the lid with a creak, she was treated to the most wonderful looking sweet treat she'd ever seen. "Oh, I am stealing this thing off you."
"They're touristy knick knacks, so you're welcome to it." He smiled. "Provided you do me a little favour."
"I knew there'd be a catch. C'mon, spaceman, let's hear it."
The Doctor smiled. "If I handle any food I'd crush it. So…well, you know when the Lilliputians have tied Gulliver up and they're feeding him?"
Donna paused after her first bite, cream all over her face, and looked from his dumb grin to the basket, which was suddenly full of watermelons. Bigger on the inside. Of course.
"Ugh. Fine then, you outerspace idiot. Let me finish this, your majesty."
The Doctor moved the protonic stability shift drive and shuffled again so he was laid on his belly, resting his chin on the ground. She'd never get over how weird and bendy he was. Still, her pie was so mouthwatering that she didn't care, and the fact that it was guilt free made it even more delicious. Once she'd licked her fingers she wiped them off on the mossy ground then grabbed a watermelon, heaving the huge thing over her shoulder. "Alright, let's get this over with."
As he opened his mouth, she suddenly realised that this may have been a mistake. She thought about insisting he take them himself, but she knew they'd probably smoosh between his fingers and spray pink everywhere. Trying hard not to think about falling down his throat, she shot-put the watermelon into his gob, and he immediately caught it, a muted wet crunch signalling he'd crushed it with only his tongue. "Mm. It's good."
Picking up another, she exhaled as she threw it. "I am so glad I'm not on your bad side."
He raised a brow after eating the second melon. "Oh, yeah?" He snapped his teeth playfully at her, but when she flinched he suddenly looked sheepish. "You know me, Donna. You're safe."
Grumbling, she chucked the next one in for him, rolling her shoulder. "Not safe from RSI. These melons, they're bloody heavy, you know."
After swallowing, he reached out a hand to her, setting it in front of her. She stepped onto his palm without hesitation, despite how weird she still thought this all was, and sat down, leaning against his long fingers. He pulled her close, beneath the overhang of his chin, eyes lazily drifting to the machine as it throbbed a bright purple. "Imagine how many Daleks I could step on like this. And I bet a Cyberman's electricity would feel like a static shock."
"I'm just thinking about inviting you to one of my 'dos. Just to see Nerys's face when she tries to ruin it and I sic you on her." Donna said with a nasty bite of satisfaction. "Oh, gramps would love it."
The Doctor hummed with glee. "Always so excited by the unusual, Wilf. Probably the only person other than you who wouldn't run away seeing me like this." It was just a shame he couldn't get in the TARDIS and go see for himself.
Ding. "Oh. It's calibrated." He said with no small amount of disappointment.
Donna rolled her eyes and gave the bottom of his jaw a punch that he barely felt. "Fine then!" She said with mock anger. "A giant space idiot is better than a sad one."
The Doctor's smile spread wider than her arm span.
71 notes · View notes
gayboyasher · 2 months
Text
Caesar & Joseph (SEPARATE) x pillar men reader!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tumblr media
He was searching the caves, looking for evidence of his family. But then, suddenly, he heard extra footsteps, echoing his. At first, he thought it was Joseph’s, but, knowing the arrogant Joestar; Joseph would let himself be known. He turned and suddenly activated his hamon, ready to strike, but then he saw you instead. You were so… curious.
“Are all humans pretty like you?” You asked him, and that absolutely gagged him. He was stuttering, trying to think logically, but you just circled him and started acting coy. Somehow, present day, he’s sitting down on the couch reading a book while you’re sitting next to him.
*You quite literally be witched him, gagged him even.
Didn’t know that he could even love your species/race (IN THE PILLAR MEN SENSE)
You proved him completely wrong when you picked him up like a cat and walked away
If you ever introduce him to the other pillar men (if you even have a relationship with any of them) it’s a shit show
Genuinely didn’t trust you for a long time
Almost killed you
When he started to fall for you, he had NO WHERE to turn.
To hell if you think he’s going to Joseph
He actually almost did
He ended up figuring out his feelings himself, but he waited for you to approach him.
Turned out he was your first damn near everything romantically.
Tries to get you used to human life, even if you can’t go in the sun.
Genuinely, you’re the only pillar men/being he loves.
Tumblr media
When Joseph agreed to fight the other three pillar men, Wammu told you about this news. You wanted to see the man who challenged them and said he would only need a month to train.
When he caught you, he was about to challenge you to a fight as well, but that was until you started to started to compliment him about his bravery.
God forbid you feed into his ego
Surprisingly flattered
So so SO glad he didn’t agree to fight you he wasn’t gonna be able to do it anyway
Tries to impress you so so so much
Also another one who reasonably can’t get along with the other pillar men
Only has beef with Kars though, the others just find him a bit annoying
He confessed his love to you right before he left to fight Wammu
Did NOT know or was prepared to find out that he was your first romantic relationship
I mean, you’re practically a god, what do you mean you haven’t had a boyfriend before??
Doesn’t care, will still do anything to be with you
Doesn’t give a fuck if you want to change to act human like or not; he likes you the way you are, even if you are different than humans
Will make you put on extra clothes though
Stop walking around with your parts out
Absolutely loves you though, absolutely
84 notes · View notes
thekingofwinterblog · 4 months
Text
So just one visual detail about Soul Eater I love and i wonder how many others ever noticed, is the way the series frames Maka and Crona visually.
Crona is way, way taller than Maka.
Tumblr media
And even moreso when sitting down, with Chrona's jaw almost reached the height of the top of Maka's head.
But you probably don't remember it that way, and there is a very specific reason for that.
Tumblr media
And the reason is because after Crona's heelturn, the show very speciffically frames their shots so where Maka almost always looks like the stronger of the two of them, despite being way smaller.
Crona is very often standing at an angle hunched forward, especially when sitting. Maka by contrast usually stands straightbacked in her full height.
Tumblr media
It uses this visual dynamic to showcase and reinforce the idea that Crona is much, much more fragile than Maka... But also that Crona always looks to Maka as a source of strength and support, while Maka is happy being that support.
Tumblr media
Even in situations where the Height is shown very, very clearly, Crona always looks to Maka, rather than it feeling like Crona is looking downwards at her.
Tumblr media
This framing is so strong that even when Maka is lying on her back paralyzed, and Crona stands over her, it still doesn't give a feeling of Crona looking down at her, but as someone looking to her for approval.
Of course this is just the normal shots that are somewhat easy to miss when not looking for it.
There is also the important stuff, where the show uses this visual contrast and dynamic to great effect.
Tumblr media
When Maka finds Crona in the pit, she is framed as big, standing over Crona looking down, because she is the powerful one here, not Crona.
Tumblr media
And when we flip around to line more up with Crona's persepctive, though she suddenly becomes smaller in the shot, she still has all the high-ground, Maka is still standing above, looking down, while Crona can't even muster up the courage to look her in the eyes, furthering emphasizing how strong Maka seems in Crona's eyes.
It emphasizes just how weak Crona feels when compared to Maka, who Crona sees as a pillar of strength and bravery.
Tumblr media
And when Maka goes down in the pit she grabs Crona by the neck and lifts, literarily holding Crona up through her owns strength while telling Crona to stop giving in to selfhatred and loathing.
And that doesnt change for the entire scene.
Crona doesn't muster the strength to stand, and Maka has to keep Crona standing, first with a closed fist, then two hands around the arms while shaking and asking for confirmation that it was medusa, then in a supporting hug.
Tumblr media
Maka is straightbacked and strong, while Crona has to literarily lean on her for support, showcasing Maka's strength and how Crona in turn relies and draws courage from that strength.
And following up on that, every single time when Crona is able to stand up tall, straightbacked and... Well not not exactly proud, but distinctly not looking fragile, are all moments related to doing something brave in relations to Maka.
Standing up to protect her from Giriko, having the bravery to go with her and the rest of the crew to the party, going to confess everything to Shinigami with all the potential consequences that might entail, or my favorite, just standing tall while looking to her final battle with Asura, after having finally grown enough as a person to stand up to Medusa, and taking the Vector blade for Maka.
Tumblr media
It's a very understated bit, but when you notice it, it's kinda amazing just how different Crona looks in this moment cimpared to the usual look.
On paper, Crona should look fragile and weak, having just taken a massive wound so the arm is clutching the recently closed injury, a huge, oversized coat over the shoulders, and Marie's hand supporting on Crona's shoulder.
Crona should look weak, but that's not the case.
Crona in this moment actually looks suprisingly powerful, with a straight spine and with the spindly physique hidden by the coat, so you instead focus on the wide shoulders.
In other words, very much like how Maka is able to channel an aura of strength despite a very unimpressive physique and height.
98 notes · View notes
dailyadventureprompts · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media
DM Advice: More Than You Can Chew
Time and again I’ll have folks write in with a really solid idea for a big picture campaign concept or third act twist with a request to help bridge the gap between the low levels/start of the campaign and the thing they’re excited for. I love helping these folks, but as someone who looks for structural answers to problems it’s made me think there might be something lacking in how we’re teaching DMs to tell stories.
If I had to break it down into pure fundamentals: The constant guiding theme in any and all adventure or campaign writing is that whatever the party happen to be doing, whether it be hunting monsters, protecting an ally, exploring a ruin, or planning a heist, It’s only a piece of a far larger story. This larger story operates at a greater scale than the party currently has a means of dealing with, initially making them feel like small fish in a big pond and providing a great sense of achievement when they finally do manage to take on the larger threats.
 On a Campaign Basis:
When plotting a story arc you should start with a goal, something difficult but conceptually achievable that the party can throw themselves at with cleverness or daredevil bravery. Rescue the Heir, Save the Village, Avert the Disaster, Steal the Jewel. The task is not impossible, but the solution is not obvious requiring them to explore, be crafty, and get inventive. It’s best if they’re invested in accomplishing this goal in some way, so make the stakes personal and resonant with the characters and their desires.
In the background however you’ve got something else cooking, a larger story that the party are only pieces in, a conflict between individuals and forces far larger than they’ve previously dealt with that’s been going on unseen. Start with how the party achieving their initial goal will affect the world: who’s it going to piss off? what tenuous balance does it disrupt? What had to be done to keep that balance in place? Do any of the power players in this arrangement see the party as their opportunity to make a move and so throw their support behind this seemingly innocuous goal? What prices do they extract?
Villains are generally going to be your primary link between the small and large scale stories, but it’s important to set them up correctly; the villains are acting/reacting in relation to the larger story and their actions trod on the lives of the party/the people the party care about. In trying to correct this injustice (if only for selfish reasons) the party gain the villain’s attention/the attention of that villain’s enemies ( though whether they be allies or villains themselves depends on the story) and suddenly find themselves caught up in the events of the larger narrative.
While it’s a good idea to plan the goal based adventure as something the party can objectively “win”, I prefer setting up the background scenario as a delicate sort of jenga tower: things were inevitably going to fall apart but there’s no way to predict how. That’s because your players a) are chaos agents b) have agency, and it’s all about seeing how they choose to act/react in the face of an overwhelming scenario. 
The small scale story is about the lives of the heroes/people, where as the larger scale story is about the outcome of ideas/the world.  You do the small story first because getting your audience to care about themes and lore is best done through getting them to care about characters first, and then using their plights and passions as a lens to see the bigger picture.
Advice on using this technique on specific adventures under the cut:
You give your party an idea what they’re supposed to be doing, likely in line with the central gameplay pillar. Again, challenging but achievable, they can guess at the steps they’ll need to succeed even if they need to do some prepwork
Be sure to mention specific risks or unknowns that go along with this task, inviting them to take countermeasures or go off the safe path for potential gain.
Figure out some plothooks and emotional appeals: sympathy, greed, amusement, power, fear. Figure out the notes your party best responds to and learn to alternate them between adventures. Playing the same note too many times makes your party not want to bite the plothook.
Do some worldbuilding, whether tying it into existing lore or spinning up some new ideas: Why are things happening this way, why now?
Now figure out the twist, the thing that’s going to happen someway along your adventure that’ll shift the party from predictable challenges to unpredictable ones. Hired to protect a merchant’s valuable cargo along dangerous roads (combat)? Turns out its an enslaved sentient creature destined for a terrible fate, which the party could free at great personal cost ( ethical). Delving the ruin so the local wizard will kit you out with gear (exploration)? Woops, you’ve come back to find his petrified body smashed to bits in what just might be a magical assassination ( mystery).
Flipping the challenge on its head in this way is what makes an adventure memorable as it gives your party that “oh shit” moment that kickstarts their brain into alertness. A twist that’s predictable isn’t a twist, which is why so many “shadowy employer betrayal” adventures fall flat. Likewise, giving them a somewhat predictable challenge at first gives them material to improvise solutions to emergent, unpredictable problems.
It’s always a good idea to figure out what failure looks like for this adventure. Killing the party off is likely to be unsatisfying, but making them live with their mistakes is what makes a campaign into an actual story. Set up npcs who’s lives will be ruined, have the party’s enemies grow in strength, make them lose out on potentially valuable treasure. These not only give weight to your player’s choices but they act as their own plothook later down the line when you give the party a chance to undo what they’ve done.
308 notes · View notes
lunaekalenda · 5 months
Note
Goodmorning! If you're feeling it how about L for Suguru for the fluff headcanons?
Hiii!! of course, thank you for asking and i hope you like it!! <3
L - Love Confession: How would they confess to their s/o?
Suguru's way of loving is warm as a spring day. It's silent, he isn't the type of person to speak up about how he feels, but he shows you how much he cares and how deeply in love he is with you through his acts. Making your favorite dinner when you arrive late, fixing that bracelet you love so much or make sure you always have your favorite scented soap on the shower. That's how things work for him, and you don't expect more. Although there's one day, were you're sleeping by his side, cuddled by his arms and feeling the first rays of the morning on your skin. Warm, as the way he has of loving you. Suguru rests his head on his hand, elbow on the pillow, looking at you with sharp, lovely eyes. He's so incredibly grateful for having you, he can't even put it into words, because he's scared of missing some of the reasons why he's so lucky. Still, he knows fear leads to nowhere, so he traces the shape of your lips with his index, slow, before getting closer for a peck. You open your eyes softly, finding him, long hair framing his handsome features and a side smile on his lips.
"Morning, Suguru." you whisper.
"Morning, sunshine." he whispers back.
The silence is comfortable on the room as both keep your eyes on the other, unable to take them apart, bewitched on your lover. Suguru then caresses your lips again, taking air and bravery to speak.
"I didn't know what love was, you know?" he starts, softly, his fingers exploring more of your features as he speaks. "I thought love was like a bullet, coming fast and without being able be avoided, drilling your heart quickly and leaving a permanent wound." He sighs softly, his finger now on your cheek. "But I was wrong, and I will never stop thanking you for showing me how love feels." You cuddle closer to his body, ready to listen to him. "It was so slowly, so incredible that I only realized how hard in love I was when I was able to kiss you for the first time. I started to think more about you, to wanting to see you, to wanting to spend time with you. To know your likings, to be able to make you smile, to be there for you when the world felt too heavy for your shoulders. To take you to dates and ask you for another one as soon as we were done. To learn about your sleeping manias and your dislikes in movies. I wanted to know which was your favorite kiss and make sure to fill all your body with them. To love double those parts of you that you don't like, and to have enough love for the days you seemed to have none. To hug you when you don't feel alright, because every time you suffer, my heart feels squeezed. " His hand is now on your waist, pulling you closer to his body. "Ever since I've met you, I feel the days more warm. It doesn't matter how tired I am, because when you kiss me, my body feels recovered. I want to take you to so many places just to admire your face, full of excitement and surprise. I wanna walk by your hand, and it doesn't even matter where. As long as we're together, I feel we can face everything, being a pillar for the other, helping to keep us afloat. After all, love is a thing of two people." Suguru sighs strongly, he still feels he has half of his feelings bottled up in his chest. He doesn't know how to keep going. On his side, you look at him, this time, your hand caressing his clavicle, slowly.
"Don't force words, love." You ask him. Your eyes feel teary as you can feel how he struggles. "We have a whole life to tell each other."
Fluff Alphabet Game here!
140 notes · View notes
desos-records · 4 months
Text
[MAJOR Spoilers for The Empty Grave]
@oceanspray5 asked for Lucy and Marissa parallels so here we go
Marissa, in typical villain fashion, claims that her and Lucy aren't that different and she's not entirely wrong.
They're both Listeners, can both talk to Type Threes, they both have close relationships with and, to an extent, rely on those same Type Threes (or whatever Ezekiel is), both have a male counterpart with a chip on his shoulder.
But that's where the similarities end. It's all surface level. Marissa claims that Lucy has the same fear of death that Marissa does, but she's wrong. Lucy stares death in the face until it flinches first every day, she understands that it's sad and scary and it's natural. By Empty Grave, she's not afraid of it so much as she wants to live.
There's a difference. A difference Marissa doesn't understand.
Lucy wants to stay with her friends, with Lockwood, in Portland Row, in this little family they've built together. Marissa has nobody. She had friends and family at one point, but she pushed them all away. Or, in several cases, killed them. She's responsible for the death and suffering of four entire generations (her own, her daughter's, granddaughter's, and the current generation). Not to mention all of the souls she trapped. Fear ruled her more than love did.
And Lucy feels fear too, all the time, but her love for her friends, her fierce protective instincts, her empathy for others, her own strong sense of self-respect are all so much louder than her fear. Lucy saves her generation and that will echo through the ones to follow.
Despite the bravado, Marissa is deeply insecure. Lucy points out the mirrors in her office, how her beauty is obviously important to her. Lucy has her own insecurities about her looks. A consistent thread in her narration is her intense self-deprecation, about plenty of things, but often about her appearance (the only counterpoints to this coming from Lockwood, but that's another post). She doesn't like her hips or her hair or how she often looks like she's been dragged feet-first, at speed, through a dusty, abandoned, mouse-infested attic because that's exactly what happened to her today.
But as insecure as Lucy is about all that, as much as it sometimes influenced her decisions, it ultimately doesn't matter. It does not out-weigh the things she does value about herself--her Talent, her self-reliance, determination, intelligence, empathy, bravery.
That moment right before the elevator doors open, when Lucy's staring at her reflection of herself, is one of my favorites. Lucy gives us the usual highly specific, but not particularly flattering description of herself. And then she says that it's nice to be reminded of who she is: Lucy Joan Carlyle.
What does show!Lucy say? Never liked mirrors, there's always just some stupid girl staring back at me. By the time we get to Empty Grave, she still has her insecurities, she still doesn't think she looks particularly nice (especially not when she's literally just come back from hell and had half a dozen ghost pillars dropped on her), but she looks like herself. And she likes who she is in a way that Marissa could never manage.
And that matters more than looking pretty and put together ever will.
57 notes · View notes
lacedupforyou · 11 months
Note
Hii!! I really love your hc wich Genshin! And I love the fluff you add to the storys! So, if you dont mind, I am going to request a yandere abyss price Aether (my baby boy) with a reader who just got captured (people have mixed opinions on how abyss prince would act, and I really look forword to your hc!)
Thank you for reading my request, and if you dont feel like replying, its fine, I understand.Have a nice day and make sure to drink enough water! <3
Tumblr media
The Princess | Yandere Abyss Prince Aether |
| Sorry for the long wait! Should be fully active 5/9/23 | Enjoy! Thank you for your sweet words. :)) |
For this ask reader is a pyro sword user.
~ Suggestive Content, I'm nobody's parent but this will contain slight nsfw at the end. If there is a part 2. That will probably be NSFW. I have other works if you do not wish to read that, or request a separate fic.
~
You were a friend of Lumine's. Traveling with her after she had saved you from an encounter with Dvalin. You met her in mondstat but traveled with her everywhere! Helping her along the ways and doing what you could. You, Paimon, and Lumine, Were great friends. Traveling from Liyue to Inazuma, to Sumeru. You were almost a guardian to the prince.
Of course the prince of the abyss had seen you traveling with his sister. He became interested. Even after his journeys he had not noticed your compassion, your bravery, your loyalty. Of course he spent more time watching you with his sister. The way you protected her, Gathered things with her, and slept at night. He was obsessed.
Of course, he kept wanting more. So he had an abyss mage steal a few strands of your hair. He spent time sitting on his throne admiring it. The way it shined.
He always felt himself wanting more. to feel the warmth of your skin on his bitter heart. So, While traveling fontaine, He had 2 abyss herald's kidnap you.
You were in the streets of fontaine, Checking out the shops, the goods, the commissions. When the world suddenly became empty abyss. It was blue and empty, You cried out for Lumine and paimon but you were not in fontaine anymore..
The abyss herald's had shown up and though you were a vision holder you were out-numbered. The abyss herald of frost fall had frozen your body up to your shoulders. You tried to melt everything but you were worn out and exhausted. The cold making you drift off into a sleep.
When you had awoken it was to a post your arms around your back tied to a long pillar, You were sitting with your legs out You had felt hands on your cheeks, You looked up to see the prince of the abyss..Examining you? He was stroking your hair like you were some pet for his amusement. He held a serious expression but it seemed to be at ease.
"Who..Are you?" You finally broke the silence.
"The abyss prince. Your prince. You will learn, I know you will. Stay quiet. I need..this."
You felt your face redder as the man kept examining your face. You noticed you were in different clothes. White robes, Instead of your normal wear.
"You- You changed me-? Or did the abyss heral-"
"Yes I did. What of it?" He spoke bluntly.
You were dumbfounded. You were in a huge hall with purple tints. You struggled in your restraints and shouted at the prince telling him to release you and that he was crazy.
He harshly grabbed your jaw. "Watch your tongue, I shall cut it off if you cannot show some obedience to your king." That got you quiet. You noticed his features. They were so similar to Lumine, It was eerie.
"I can tell what're you are thinking. Yes I am related to them. But we are very different. Hold still."
His arms unhooked the cuffs but kept them on you behind your back. He lifted your body bridal style and walked to his throne, Sitting on it and sitting you in his lap still bridal style. You were stricken with fear. Where was your vision? Lumine must be worried. Would they come for you? What was he going to do with you..?
The hall was empty, Quiet. You were in your wave of thoughts until you felt his hand snake to your inner thigh.
"My princess.. I've watched you for so long.. I won't let you go. No matter where you go. I'll drag you here. You're my princess. Forever."
(Part 2? Request it! I need to know people want more lol. I haven't wrote NSFW yet but I hope it will be good if requested. Sorry for the days of silence on my part. Remember to shower and do some self care <3.)
374 notes · View notes
milkb0nny · 5 months
Text
Mourning with Ivar
Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Comfortember Day 8: Mourning
Summary: Your father lost his life on the battlefield, achieving the honor to enter Valhalla. Though, you remained breathing, mourning - the death of your father burdened you. Your partner and anchor comforted you, helping to grief and recover.
Note: I'm sorry that today is a little short on the word count. This week exhausts me so much. I managed to create a somewhat heart wrenching prompt though! Enjoy. 🤎
Warnings: war, death of a family member, mention of blood and violence
word count: 883
Tumblr media
Ivar and you were in a secrecy established relationship. He had been your rock, your pillar of strength, ever since you had met him. Many outsiders assumed that he owned you as a slave, given the nature of your relationship, but the truth was far more complex. You were partners, friends, and lovers who had found security in each other's arms. .
°°°
The battlefield was a scene of chaos, a place where the line between life and death blurred with every passing moment. The air was thick with the acrid stench of blood, and the sounds of clashing steel and anguished cries filled the air. Amidst the violent clash of swords and the screams of fallen warriors, your father had met his honorable end.
You stood at a distance, watching in horror as the battle raged on. Your heart- crushed. You knew that your father had gone into this battle with bravery, but it was a cruel reminder of the unforgiving war. He was gone and would never return.
Ivar approached you, sensing the tragedy that burdened your poor heart. As the battle raged on, his intense gaze never left your face. His hand slowly found yours, fingers intertwining as a silent gesture of support.
It was a signal that he was there for you. Your father unwillingly left you, but Ivar stood there, right next to you. Seeing how much the death hurt you, sliced deep wounds into Ivar’s heart. Your father was in no means close to him, but the young Viking desired revenge - revenge for the pain, for your loss and for your father. Though, the war was already won and nothing was there Ivar could do.
The battle ended, the wounded growling and the victorious cheers of the living. Between the happiness your tears dropped onto the crimson ground underneath your feet. You felt numb, unable to comprehend the loss of your father, a man you had admired and loved.
Carefully, Ivar put his hands on your shoulders, pressuring them with a firm grip. He slowly guided you away from the battlefield and your father’s corpse, leading you through the camp to a secluded spot.
There, he held you close. His arms embraced you, pulled you into an intimate hug. His right arm pushing you against his chest, his left hand resting on your head. You started crying, releasing the mourning emotions in a storm of tears and sobs. Your father, celebrating in Valhalla, had finally found his peace.
“I'm so sorry, my love,” Ivar whispered, petting your head gently. ”I know how much he meant to you.” He placed a kiss on your head, pulling you closer as you unconsciously slipped away a little. Your head slid to his lap, where you rested finally, gripping the fabric of his pants.
Usually Ivar hated when someone touched his fragile legs, but in this moment, he witnessed how fragile you were. You sought your comfort in him, crying. You couldn't find words to respond, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak.
Your father was dead.
The man who had told you to always stay focused in battle.
The person who fed you, taught you and loved you.
Gone, away, vanished from the earth.
You could never hug him, or tell him about your victories.
Ivar showered you in slow tender kisses, trying to calm your feelings down. His patience was tested, but it was worth it. After an hour of crying, your eyes had given up, and you caught onto your rational thoughts again. Evening announced itself, so you and Ivar returned to the camp, entering your shared tent.
It was in those vulnerable moments that your connection deepened. Thanks to Ivar you were able to contain yourself again and not lose all hope there was in life.
Ubbe and Sigurd rushed into Ivar’s tent, they had just learned about your fathers passing, and wanted to reassure the rumor. Instead, they bumped into your cuddling session, where Ivar kissed your cheek.
“Is it true?” Ubbe asked, indifferent of the relationship you had with his younger brother.
Thanks to Ivar you didn’t have to answer this uncomfortable question, as he replied with a single nod. Ubbe and Sigurd gazed at each other, sighing and paying your father respect.
Then they left you both alone.
Ivar’s voice filled the silence spoke softly, reassuring you again. “He was a great warrior with great ambitions, and he raised a remarkable warrior. He would be proud of you, just as I am, my love.”
The tears welled up in your eyes once more, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. Ivar held you, showered you in love and support. Back then you would’ve laughed if someone had told you, but in this very moment you felt Ivar’s hidden side.
“Death has a way of stealing time from us. But your father knew you loved him. He knew." Ivar’s words were the truth which hit you like a thunderstruck. Your heart ached but you knew you couldn’t deny the situation. His thumb brushed against the back of your hand, a gesture of comfort.
“We’ll make your father proud, when time comes, you’ll meet him again in Valhalla.”
Tumblr media
140 notes · View notes