chocolate - what would you most like to receive on valentine's day?
Oh I don't know, a new Zelda game release? OH WAIT :DDDD
hug - how comfortable are you with physical contact?
NOT VERY. I don't usually initiate physical contact with people unless I'm super duper comfortable with them and even then it's sometimes difficult. I can be tactile when I'm in a really good mood, though.
poem - write me a poem
I would swimacross the seaand also walkas far as neededto find youand boop you but I can't swim :(
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Pssst. When you get this, you must publicly post something nice about at least 5 different people you follow, then copy and paste this in each of their ask boxes. Check my blog to see what I said about you
enyen She’s 1/4 of my cosplay group and I love her, she can look like anyone of any gender with her amazing make up skills. She’s awesome.
piecrmbs She’s a supernerd for Batman and Loki and she’s 2/4 of my cosplay group and she’s so shota it’s so cute and it’s also weird cuz she’s four yrs older than me. She’s also good at making costumes. She cute.
nothisdate FINALLY Joyce is the last member of my cosplay group and she’s AMAZING is she even human? She can accomplish ANYTHING she puts her mind to and she also SELF TAUGHT costume making I hate her (I love her). She da best.
thominho She’s my wife. Everyone knows how I feel about her. She’s cute and has a strong moral compass and extremely nice. Also she’s beautiful.
stanley-tsaii He my husband. He’s also…my…twin…??? He’s super cute and he’s also a Slytherin and we both cosplayed Minho so we’re basically the same person.
"Just because I prefer pulling a trigger doesn't mean I'm incompetent with a computer," Bond points out; at his desk, Q rolls his eyes and doesn't bother to reply.
"Just because I prefer pulling a trigger doesn't mean I'm incompetent with a computer," Bond points out. At his desk, Q rolls his eyes and doesn't bother to reply.
"I've used computers before, you know," Bond continues, frowning at his screen in concentration and then looking down at his keyboard while he types.
He's typing with his index fingers. At a snail's pace.
"Oh, for god's sake," Q mutters.
"I watched you handle a gun the other day," Bond says, not looking up from his computer. "Or try to, anyway. The least you can do is either grit your teeth and bear it."
"Or," Q replies, remembering the feeling of Bond standing against him, hands over Q's hands as he corrected Q's stance and grip, "I could come over and teach you how to be better."
Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox and I will write the next five.
"Hush," Loki says, his fingers are ice-cold when they brush against Thor's lips. "It no longer matters."
"Hush," Loki says, his fingers are ice-cold when they brush against Thor’s lips. "It no longer matters."
"But this…" Thor begins, his fingers wrapping around Loki’s wrist, now a deep, Jotunn blue, "but you…"
"I am Loki," is his only reply, "as I have ever been. Take me or leave me, brother, the choice has always been yours."
Except it’s not at all and Thor is at least wise enough to know that. With Loki’s blood red gaze fixed on him and his ice cold hands hovering far too close to his neck, Thor must know that he doesn’t have a choice at all.
"I love you, Loki," Thor replies firmly, his voice carrying so much conviction that it shakes Loki for a moment. "As you are, however you choose to be. If you are a Jotunn, then I will love you as such. I just as that you do not leave."
"Idiot," Loki mutters, covering Thor’s mouth with his hand to keep him from speaking any further. "How can I, when it means that I must leave you here?"
Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox and I will write the next five.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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(note: Bastian is an OC and pie is his other parent)
Bastian/Connor, Sandia | Teen | 1,279 words (hero, high fantasy, "I was here")
Sure enough, almost as soon as Bastian's had the thought, the ground begins shaking. Beside him, Sandia gasps loudly, sending out a bright flash of light, which achieves two things. One, it briefly illuminates the giant golem that has unfurled itself in front of them. Two, it's almost managed to stun the golem.
"Oh, fuck this," Bastian groans. "We're leaving."
Sandia nods emphatically in agreement and they both run for it, not bothering to hide their sources of light in favour of actually being able to see where to go. Bastian scrambles over boulders, swearing under his breath and cursing the fact that he'd never taken the time to master a teleportation spell. He's definitely doing that before he goes anywhere near this cave again. Assuming he makes it out.
"Bastian, we're going to die!" Sandia yells as the entire cave begins to rumble.
"You know how much I appreciate your optimism," Bastian mutters, and does a stupid thing.
He turns around and stands his ground.
"Bastian, YOU'RE going to die!" Sandia yells at him this time.
"And you're going to run," he replies. He's never fought a golem before and he doesn't even know what to do. Either way, he's going to need to gather all the magic he has first. That gives him a bit of time to think. While also trying to stay alive.
If he could travel into the past and punch himself in the face for ever thinking that he could travel through the Darklands to get to his father's castle, he would.
There's a spell he remembers using as a child. Back before there was any such thing as the Darklands, before his mother had taken him and run from the castle and all of the evil inside it, Bastian had been a spoiled little prince. He remembers the screaming, he remembers the tantrums, he remembers having the power to shatter anything made of glass, ceramic or porcelain in the entire room.
The cave's bigger and rock is a little more difficult to break but then again, Bastian has more magic now than he did twenty years ago.
The golem towers over him and he raises his hands to it, letting the magic flow out of him. "Shatter."
He staggers as rocks fall around him, and realises that perhaps putting all of his energy into the spell wasn't the best idea he's ever had.
"Bastian, don't you fucking dare pass out on me," Sandia screams at him.
He does.
------
Bastian wakes up to a pair of bright blue eyes looking down at him, and a head of ginger hair.
"For fuck's sake," he mutters. He's dead and he's thinking about Connor. Wonderful.
"Nice to see you too," Connor-the-illusion mutters, his voice soft, a little hurt.
"I'm dead and I'm thinking about my ex-boyfriend," Bastian mutters. "Is this what the afterlife is going to be? Regrets?"
"Regrets?" Connor-the-illusion repeats back at him, voice gone strange.
"Because I never believed anyone who told me that I was going to burn in hell for my sins just because I was having more sex than they were but if I'm pretty sure it counts as hell if I'm stuck—wait. Dead people don't think or hallucinate, do they."
"I wouldn't know," Connor-the-illusion replies carefully. "Considering that I'm not dead. Incidentally, neither are you."
"Oh."
Connor-oh-fuck-that's-actually-Connor gives him a small smile that's gone as quickly as it comes. "Oh."
"Where am I and why are you also here?"
"Sandia brought you to me," Connor replies. He places a hand on Bastian's chest to forestall his attempt to sit up. "Please don't move. You're still healing and I don't think either of us are particularly keen on breaking your bones again to make them heal right if it doesn't work the first time."
"No," Bastian replies, and stays right where he is. "Not really. Sandia?"
"You used that tantrum spell," Connor explains. "Except you amplified it. Caused an entire cave to collapse, congratulations on that by the way. Apparently, on top of shattering rock, you also shattered glass like you used to when we were kids. You broke Sandia's talisman."
"Oh," Bastian realises and nearly turns to look for a window before remembering that he can't move. "So that means…"
"…That Sandia's a dragon right now and can't change back into a person until we replace her talisman," Connor finishes. "Yeah."
"I didn't think about that."
"I'm not surprised."
Bastian scowls. "Connor—"
"I mean that of course you didn't," Connor says. "You had too many other things on your mind. Like surviving. Which you did. I'm glad."
"Me too," Bastian replies shortly.
They lapse into silence and Connor checks on Bastian's wounds, wordlessly showing him all the damage he's sustained. He's broken more bones than he can count, he's bruised and bleeding, and he's certain that the only reason he's alive is because Sandia had been turned back into a dragon. He wonders if she'd been hurt too, and how bad her injuries are.
"You're an idiot," Connor whispers at length. "You could have died. She brought you to me, carrying you curled in the one claw and I thought you were dead, Bastian. I thought—"
"Well I'm not."
"Well, you should have been more careful to ensure that you'd get out of that cave alive. Who the fuck goes into a huge, dark cave with just two people anyway? Neither of whom know any healing or teleporting magic just in case things get as bad as they did?"
"And where would I find someone like that?" Bastian asks evenly.
"Here," Connor snaps. "I was right here."
"Someone who would actually join me."
Connor brings his hand to his face, but not fast enough that Bastian misses the way it crumples, brows drawing together, eyes squeezed shut. He holds it there for a long moment, breathes in and then breathes out again.
"You only ever had to ask."
"Really," Bastian murmurs.
"Really." Connor sounds broken and Connor never sounds broken. He moves his hand away from his face so that he can meet Bastian's gaze. "That's all you ever had to do. To join you on your attempt to overthrow your father. To stay. All I needed was for you to ask."
Bastian is too tired for this conversation, his heart is beating too fast and everything hurts too much. Connor's hand is resting on the edge of the bed, like he's not quite sure how close to he wants to be. Bastian reaches for it.
"I told you to stay still," Connor mutters, gingerly taking Bastian's hand into both of his own and repositioning his arm. He doesn't let go.
"Consider this as me asking," Bastian says quietly. His eyelids are growing heavy, but he manages to meet Connor's gaze with a smile all the same. "Please, Connor."
"What are you asking for?" Connor asks quietly. Then louder, "Oh, Bastian, don't you fucking pass out on me."
piecrmbs replied to your post “so I think annaroserae can testify: don’t make friends with me, I will...”
BUT WHAT IF I LOVE BEING MADE SAD ABOUT CHARACTERS I LOVE
and really, I can say the same thing. "don't make friends with me, I will only find new and interesting to make the characters you love cry. and not necessarily in a sad way."
