#T: Taken Hostage

[deadboydetectives-anonmeme]

Edwin/Charles — Ghost emotions generate magic power

Why would only ghost pain produce magic power? After Esther, the agency encounters another magician who's realized any strong emotion from a ghost generates magical energy.

They capture Charles and Edwin and manipulate them into big feelings. It's like sessions with the world's worst therapist, as the magician drags out all their traumas and longings to exploit for emotional reactions. The magician plays them against each other, and their fears, frustration and anger over the situation just make their captor stronger.

Edwin finally works out how to siphon some of the power and use it to escape, but it's going to take massive emotions to generate enough... so Charles kisses Edwin. They sneak makeout sessions to gather enough energy to get out; Edwin feels awful that Charles has to go this far to free them, while Charles's feelings realization is charging the battery like crazy...

Fill: None

[littlefireball]

ᴍɢ|ꜰᴀᴋᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʀᴜᴇ (ᴍ)

@lezleeferguson-120 thx for requesting.

ᴋɪɴɢ ᴍɪɴɢɪ x ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜰᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴋɪꜱꜱ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱʜɪᴛ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ, ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ(?)|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ:3.4ᴋ

"Speak up. Who is it that you wish to save?" Mingi, the King of the Far East realm, confronted the warlord John, who had taken Mingi's brother captive. "Let my brother go, and I will return one princess to you." 

Your sister frequently slipped away to the borders of the Far East realm for secret meetings with Mingi's brother. But fate took a turn when Mingi caught her in the act. You and the army rushed to intervene, igniting a fierce conflict. In the chaos, you and your sister found yourselves captured by Mingi, while his brother was taken hostage.

"Make your choice. Don't force me to ask again," Mingi pressed, his gaze sharp enough to cut through steel.

You hold your breath, hoping John would choose you. Despite being a princess, you were often overlooked, overshadowed by your mother's unpopularity. Raised in a military camp, you had always been a soldier at heart. John, your childhood love, had vowed to marry you on your eighteenth birthday. Yet, the war had postponed your dreams time and again, and still, you were willing to wait for him.

However, this promise was about to be shattered.

"Please choose me, please. It hurts!" Your sister whined, tears streaming down. "Y/N, you won't let me suffer, will you?" 

"So you want me to suffer?"You countered. 

"But you are living in a military camp. I'm not as strong as you…" she said pitifully. You grasped the deeper meaning behind her words completely. What she's really saying was that rescuing you would be futile. Having been raised in a military camp, you've endured far more hardship than she had, and given your lack of favoritism, you being a hostage seems to be the most sensible option. 

You averted your gaze, fixating on John, silently wishing he would ignore your sister's remarks. Yet, the general standing behind him shot you a harsh glare. John's expression was devoid of the affection you craved; instead, it brimmed with pity for your sister. Though their words were muffled, you could sense the generals were pressuring John to side with your sister, given his close ties to her. 

You instinctively shook your head, as if to reject the entire situation. In response, all you received was an even more frigid stare from him.

"Please choose me!" Your sister was begging again. "I don't want to die!" 

"Shut up!" The men looming behind you yelled, their voices laced with irritation, causing your sister to scream. John glanced at you, then turned his attention to her, his fist tightening in frustration. He longed to protect you, but the king's orders held him back. Your sister's words rang true; you could endure the trials of being a hostage. He would rescue you, but only after ensuring your sister's safety.

"I choose her." John's finger trembled as he pointed at your sister, his voice quaking. Your eyes grew wide with disbelief, a deep sense of betrayal washing over you. The cold blade of the sword pressed against your neck, drawing a thin line of crimson on your skin, yet you felt no sting. Instead, the ache in your heart rendered you motionless.

"Deal." Mingi nudged your sister ahead, while John mirrored the action with Mingi's brother. A torrent of words lodged in your throat, refusing to spill into coherent sentences. Instead, a whirlwind of questions and a deep sorrow filled your heart, the sting of betrayal from your lover weighing heavily on your chest. You stood there, powerless, as your so-called sister leaned against John, her voice trembling with fear as she recounted her terror.

You should be the one crying! Not her!

"Let's go back, princess." Mingi whispered against your ear, giving a shiver down your spine. He pulled you away, yet your gaze remained fixated on them . John apologized, promising to save you in ten days. But can you trust him? The sight of your sister's victorious grin made your stomach churn with unease.

—----

"Eat," Mingi commanded, gesturing for the servant to set the tray before you. "I don't want to bury your body." 

You hesitated, but your hunger got the better of you. You slowly reached for a piece of fruit, biting into it gingerly. The sweet juice filled your mouth, and you found yourself relaxing slightly.

It's been three days since the incident, and your emotions were a tangled mess. You were filled with anger over the feeling of abandonment, yet there was a shift in how you perceive Mingi. 

His unexpected kindness has made you question the harsh judgments you've heard about him. Rather than confining you to a cell, he's provided you with a room of your own. True, there were guards keeping a watchful eye, and freedom felt like a distant dream. Still, the conditions here were surprisingly more comfortable than what you experienced at so-called home.

"So, are you still waiting for your lovely warlord?" He sat by your bed, taking a sip from his drink. 

Doubt flickered in your mind as you absorbed his words, your fist tightening instinctively. Deep down, you understood he would never return, all because of your father. To him, your existence was insignificant, even in death. Yet, a nagging curiosity tugged at you—why did Mingi let your sister slip away? It seemed like a foolish decision. If you were in Mingi's shoes, you would never have given John the option to decide.

"I don't know." You stopped eating, lowering your head. "Can I ask you a question?" 

"Say it." 

"Why did you choose me?" 

He set the cup down on the plate before returning it to the table. Leaning in, he kept his gaze locked with yours. "Did you forget? It's your warlord's choice, not me." He leaned back, a playful smirk dancing across his lips. 

"Take a rest." These were the final words he said to you. In the days that follow, he didn't show up. A sense of unease begins to creep in. Did your question reveal to him that you hold no worth? Rumor has it that Mingi's brother has been spiraling into madness ever since that day, howling for your sister's presence daily and even issuing chilling death threats. Mingi, unable to tolerate his brother's insanity, decided to cast him out. 

But what about you? Would Mingi choose to banish you as well, or would he just kill you? Furthermore, just as you feared, your nation did nothing. It hasn't dispatched any forces or sought a truce. It truly regards you as if you no longer exist.

As the night deepened, you found yourself wide awake in bed, grappling with the relentless ache in your lower abdomen and a mind that refused to quiet. The ceiling loomed above you, a silent witness to your suffering. Oh, the agony of period cramps! Why must they invade your peaceful hours? You shifted restlessly, but the pain chased away any hint of drowsiness. Despite your efforts to cocoon yourself in warmth, it was futile. In the midst of your discomfort, you caught snippets of a hushed exchange between two maids nearby.

"Hey do you know that? The war lord would marry that princess!" 

"Oh reli?Poor Y/N. I heard she likes the war lord." 

"So, that means she is not useful anymore? See, they did nothing to save her."

"What would the King do? It's nonsense to send her back." 

"Maybe put her in jail?"

"Maybe just kill─" Their words were abruptly cut off as you swung open the door, making them shocked. 

"Bring me to the King." 

"But…" They looked at each other before shifting their gaze on the safety guards , not sure what to do.

"Please." You begged. "I promise I won't say you brought me there." 

—------

"Come in." Mingi commanded after hearing a knock from the door, still focusing on his work. But, no one spoke. 

"What─Y/N?" He lifted his gaze and found you poised in the center of the hall, draped in elegant white silk pajamas. As you glided toward him slowly, your pure and unassuming beauty made him gulp. There was no denying it; you were stunning. 

"Mingi…" You walked to him, slightly grabbing his forearm. "I'm in pain, could you help me?" 

"What pain?" 

"Menstrual cramps…" He gently pulled your hand away, his throat tightening as his fingers brushed against your skin. You noticed it. "Just call the doctor…"

"No." You grasped his hand, fingers weaving together. "There's still a pain in one spot." You guided his hand to rest on your chest, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and shyness. "Here." You whispered, biting your lips..

"Do you know what you are doing?" He suddenly sat up and shadowed you with his big frame. "Don't you─" "I know." You silent him with your words. "Just please." Upon hearing your begging, he could no longer bear his desire. He grabbed your thighs to pick you up, making you scream at surprise. 

Gently placing you down on the luxury sofa, he pecked at your lips. "Wait for me a while. Be a good girl and take off all of your clothes before I come back." A grin played on his lips as he turned to leave. "Oh yah, don't remove your underwear." 

You nodded and obeyed his words, lying naked on the sofa to wait for him. After a while, you saw him return with a towel. Cradling your thigh, he placed a soft towel under your body and removed your panties. 

"Did you have sex before?" 

"No." You muttered, shaking your head. 

"Then I'm the first one." Smirked, he crawled back to the sofa, kneeling in front of you. He was definitely big, making you worried if you could take it, even in your period.

"Don't worry. You can take it well." He leaned over you after wrapping up a condom, cupping your face with one hand, while another leading his manhood to your cunt. 

"Fuck…" you murmured while throwing your head at the back, opening and closing your mouth for better breathing. He filled you full literally, leaving no space left. 

"This is fucking good." His head landed on your neck, inhaling your lovely scent and dropping kisses. Wrapped by sticky blood was not that difficult for him to adjust, he felt satisfied. Although you squeezed him hard, he didn't feel pain thanks to your blood.

"Mingi…mingi…it hurts." You let out a whimper, tears welled up in your eyes. "It's okay, it's okay. Take it slow." He wiped away your tears, pecking at your nose, showering you with all his tender and love. You frowned as the period pain kept torturing your body, toes curling and nail drugging into his skin. 

"Relax." Grasping the armrest firmly, he pushed in painfully slowly. The way his tip kissed against your sweet spot made your head spin in pleasure. He kept reaching the same spot over and over again, fading away the pain in your body. Choppy moaning flew from your tongue as he continued to roll his hips into you, nothing left in your mind but only his name. 

His cock was so big, so long, making you could easily feel his every movement and twitch. You carved for more, no, you needed him deeper and harder, giving you endless pleasure to forget all the pain your family caused. 

"Please, I want more." "Want more what? Just say it." "Please please please. Harder and faster." "You beg for it. Don't regret it if I go too rough." Ｈe fold you up as a mating press, pressing your thighs as a support, shoving into you without any tender.  Every muscle in your body seems to be on the brink of being ripped apart, as waves of pain and pleasure crash over you in a relentless rhythm. He fucked you so fast, fast enough to ruin you. The skin slapping sound mixed with your high-pitched moaning, filling the whole room. 

"Ah!Fuck!" You swore, tears streaming down your cheek. Everything was just overwhelming. It felt as if your very awareness had been yanked from you, leaving the world around you a hazy blur. A parched sensation gripped your throat, the relentless moaning rendering your voice rough and strained. As he caught sight of you, a wave of tenderness washed over him; he slowed his pace, encircled your legs with his waist, leaned down, and tenderly brushed away the tears that streak your cheeks.

"Am I too rough?" He whispered against your skin, a warm breath landed on it. Wrapping your arms around his shoulder, you pulled him closer. "A little bit." 

"Then I'll be rough when you're okay with this. Maybe next time." He cupped your face, giving you a gentle kiss while kept sliding in and out, making your whole body move forth and back from his movement. He parted from your lips with a pop sound, meeting your gaze. 

"Will you stay with me, Y/N?" 

"If you don't kill me." 

"I won't kill you." He let out a chuckle before meeting your lips again. The sensation of that kiss was beyond words; was it love or merely desire? You were uncertain, yet one thing was crystal clear: you relished every moment. You savored the way he enveloped you in his warmth and tenderness. But then again, could it all be an illusion? Perhaps his passion was fueled solely by lust, ignited by your seduction. But none of that mattered, as long as you could stay alive.

"Damn it, I'm cumming." His thrusting lost its rhythm; a low growl left his lips. He chased his high and picked up the pace, making you moan with him. You could tell you were close too, a knot formed in your stomach, urging you to release it. 

"Mingi…I…" "Cum with me, dear." Throwing your head at the back, you panted heavily as the pleasure of climax took over your mind. With a swear, you reached your high before Mingi came all in his condom. 

Neither of you wanted to break free from the warmth of each other's arms, holding on even tighter. He placed soft kisses on your forehead and lovingly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "How about we take a shower?" he suggested. You smiled and nodded, allowing him to lift you up and carry you to the bathroom.

"I didn't expect you to get laid with me in just one week." Mingi splashed the water over you after checking its warmth. You never imagined you could act with such daring. Yet, when confronted with the essence of life, the value of purity has become less significant.

You spun around, wrapping your arms around him, your voice a soft murmur against his chest. "Are you really asking me to stay by your side?" Deep down, you recognized the insincerity of your own words. You had no intention of sticking around; one day, you would walk away.

But is that true?

He gently nudged you back, wanting to meet your gaze, lowering himself to match your height.

"I won't lie." 

—-----

Days turned week, week turned months. It appeared that the commitment John made to you has slipped entirely from his mind. If only you had held on a little longer for him to save you, you may have just died already. He repeatedly insisted he would come to your aid, yet his words were empty; he took no real steps beyond sending letters. He never confronted the king or sought a solution. Instead, he merely crafted an illusion of affection.

"What is that?" Mingi buried his face in your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaving a trail of kisses while licking the red marks he left on you. With John, he was a different person; he honored his word and cherished you like a precious gem, enveloping you in a warm embrace of love and kindness. However, there was one aspect that wasn't ideal:he was too horny sometimes.

"A letter from John." You placed your hand on Mingi's head, letting a moan as Mingi sneaked his hand to your clothed clit, rubbing it gently. "Stop, Mingi. I can't focus." 

"Tsk. I'm more important than him. Your husband needs you to help him." "We haven't got married." "Soon." He slid down your panties to the thighs, pulling up your dress to press his cock against your ass, rubbing it before aiming at your entrance. 

"Shit…"You couldn't help but let out a moan as he eased into you. "What did he say?" His pronunciation was somewhat inaccurate due to his heavy panting. "Oh baby, you're so fucking tight." His cock twitched each time your wall tightened, sucking him in to reach your deepest. 

"Ah fuck Mingi~He said…umm…he would come to save me…he…" You couldn't even say a complete sentence as he nestled so deep, the way he battered your spot drove you insane.

"Again?How many times has he said it?"He thrusted with each word, making you gasp. 

"Yah. That's bullshit. Mingi, you're too deep." 

"Just reply to him after you milk me dry." Mingi threw away the letter and brought you into a deep kiss. "No. Don't reply to him. I don't like you talking with him." Before you could say anything, he picked you up to the bed, shoving you as nothing, entering your cunt once again.

"Fuckkk."

—-----

This evening, John at last got your letter and hurried to the spot where it all unfolded.

"Y/N!" He dashed toward you as soon as he spotted you. "I feared I'd lost you forever."

"Hold it!" You took a step back, lifting your hand in warning. "Don't you dare cross that line, or I swear I'll end you."

"What are you saying? I came here to rescue you."

"Funny." You smirked. "Are you happy to marry my sister?" 

"It is a forced marriage and I don't like her! I only like you!" 

"Like me?" You raised your eyebrow, speaking up. "So that you choose my sister on that day and let me be a captive? You said you would save me and what I was waiting for was the news of your marriage to her! That's how you like me?" 

"No,no.Y/N. I was forced, I…" 

"Did you even try to save me?Tell me." You stopped his words, making him hesitant.

"Why can't you understand me? I truly love you." Rolling your eyes, a hint of annoyance evident. 

"Shut up. John!What you loved was only your reputation and status, not me." 

"Absolutely not, Y/N! Just trust me!" As he lunged toward you, Mingi's voice rang out, halting him.

"How dare you lay a hand on my wife?"

"Wife?" "Mingi?" The two of you exchanged astonished glances, one filled with fear and the other with joy. Mingi pulled you behind him, warning John with a low voice. 

"If you touch my wife, I'll definitely kill you now." 

"What? You married him?" 

"It's not your business, asshole. And now I'm talking with you. How dare you ignore me?" 

"That should be what I say! You rape her?! Y/N. Don't be afraid!I'm here for you." You rolled your eyes again, unable to hold your anger anymore and rushed to slap him, making him stand still. 

"I'm willing!I'm already died if I had waited for you to save me." 

"So you get laid with him?How can you live up to your country?"

"Don't talk nonsense to me!It is not my country! Go back to your country and tell them, war is going to break out." Gave him a death look, you turned around to hold Mingi's hand. 

"Let's go." You dragged Mingi to leave, not giving a glance back. John surveyed the scene before him, a heavy weight settling in his chest as he grappled with his emotions. Was it a sense of regret gnawing at him, or was it the fire of anger? Perhaps it was simply the anxiety of what lay ahead.

"Y/N." Mingi said. "Hm?"

"I promise I won't let you down, I'll do everything you want." 

"Why so suddenly?" 

"I'm serious." 

"Okay. Thank you. I love you." You left a kiss on his cheek. "My confession is serious, too." Smiled, he brought you into a passionate kiss.

Time flies, a conflict is imminent against your homeland. The corruption that had festered under your father's reign had taken root long ago, and soon, the tides of war would turn in your favor.

And that was Mingi's promise─he would do anything for you.

tag list:@angelsaway

[oneshotnewbie]

hii! i would like to request maya x carina x reader, where reader is still in college/university and a whole incident happens. r is taken as hostage and carina and maya panic after getting a call. really angsty pls

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the mention of a rampage and a brief mention of a hostage situation. Those plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

For you, the university was not only a place of learning, but also a melting pot of emotions. As the daughter of Maya and Carina, you felt the expectations weighing on your shoulders. Your mother, a respected obstetrician-gynecologist, had already made her mark in the medical world, and you felt the urge to follow in her footsteps.

Your parents had never put any pressure on you to follow the same path as either of them. Nevertheless, you felt an inner obligation to continue your family tradition. Even as a little girl, you listened with fascination when your mother talked about the challenges and successes of her job. The love of medicine seemed to be embedded in your DNA.

The campus pulsed with life as you moved through the crowd, clutching your books on anatomy and surgery, eager to head to your lectures. Like every day, your heart beat faster with excitement and a hint of uncertainty.

In your first year at university you found yourself in a world characterized by complex theories and demanding internships. The anatomy books became your constant companion and you learned to understand human anatomy like a puzzle. In the labs, you made precise cuts and analyzed tissue samples with the dedication of an artist who wanted to perfect every detail of her work.

The challenges of studying became clear as you approached your first internship at the hospital. Beads of sweat appeared on your forehead as you assisted in your first procedure. The smell of disinfectant and the hum of medical equipment surrounded you. You felt the responsibility getting bigger and bigger.

But with each passing day, not only did the challenge grow, but so did your passion. You soaked up the knowledge like it was the sweetest honey and found comfort in the advice of your professors.

The lecture hall you had just entered was filled with a hushed murmur of inquisitive students as you slumped in your seat. The excited atmosphere before another exciting lecture permeated the room as the professor began to talk about the latest advances in surgery. Surrounded by attentive fellow students, you listened intently to the expert's words and the technical details that rained down on you.

The projections on the wall showed complex surgical procedures as the professor delivered her explanations with enthusiasm and expertise and you tried to understand the connections between the details. You found yourself in a stream of information that took you into the fascinating world of medical innovations. Your eyes sparkled with excitement, taking in every sentence as if they could be keys to some secret knowledge.

Just before the professor was about to play a video showing complex open-heart surgery, a shrill alarm code, followed by an urgent warning, ripped through the air. "Attention, active shooter. Barricade yourself in the rooms." The room froze for a moment. You sat up, your eyes wide in surprise. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach.

Students frantically ran to corners and sought shelter under tables. The professor tried in vain to calm the panicked crowd. But the situation escalated further when muffled shots were heard from outside the building. Recognizing this soundscape captured the attention of everyone in the room. Faces faded with fear and a feeling of helplessness spread.

Your heart was in your throat, you could hear the pulsing of your own heartbeat as you also pushed yourself into a corner, trying to keep a clear head. Panic was in the air, and thoughts of the surgical procedures and advances paled in front of the pressing reality.

A wave of fear passed through you and your thoughts whirled wildly. The idea of the place of learning becoming a scene of violence shook you to the core.

In a moment that seemed like an eternity, doors were thrown open and hooded figures entered. Another wave of fear swept through the room as people realized that this was no mere alarm, but a cruel reality. The shadow of disaster had entered the lecture hall.

Armed men in dark clothes now dominated the scene. Your class was taken hostage and a cold shiver ran through your body. Your eyes searched for allies, for a means of escape, but the men with weapons clung to their control over the desperate crowd.

The professor, your fellow students and you were trapped in a nightmare that was unfolding at breakneck speed. The situation worsened when the men began making demands and firing wildly in the air. You suddenly found yourself in the middle of a threatening drama that you never thought possible.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Maya and Carina stood in the fire station's supply room, surrounded by boxes full of medical supplies, taking inventory of necessary medical supplies. The mood was focused as the two checked lists and made sure all life-saving supplies were present.

"Do you think we should order more bandages? To be on the safe side?" the blonde asked as she pulled out individual small packages, counted them and then sorted them into the cupboards. "Yes, I think so. You can't have enough of them, especially on larger missions."

The sounds of the plastic wraps and packaging had created a calming atmosphere, but it was suddenly broken by a shrill voice. Victoria, who until recently had been sitting in the relaxation room, stormed into the small inventory room, her eyes wide with dismay. "You must come with me immediately," she said in a trembling voice. Her hands were gripping the remote control tightly.

Maya and Carina exchanged a worried look and dropped everything. Both women's hearts began to pound wildly in their chests as they quickly left the room and followed their friend. As they entered the room, they both stopped in the middle of it.

The television flickered as the newscaster solemnly announced the terrible truth. "A serious incident has occurred at Seattle University. Armed attackers have entered the building and taken hostages. Police are on scene, but the situation is extremely critical."

Maya and Carina stared at the screen in shock as the reporter reported on the dramatic scenes, hitting them like a blow. Images of students running out filled the room. An icy shiver ran through the two of them when the name of the affected university was mentioned several times. A feeling of helplessness fell like a leaden veil over their hearts. The words invaded their thoughts, and the images of their beloved daughter studying at this institution seemed like a fragile glass threatened by an impending storm. "Y/n.. she has classes today. She's there."

Carina felt her knees weakening and tears forming in her eyes. The blonde reflexively clung to the back of the sofa. The world of the two, which had just seemed so familiar and safe, was thrown out of control. The maternal instincts awoke with frightening intensity when they thought of the dact that you were currently in a dangerous situation. "Oh mio Dio, no," the brunette whispered, her voice shaky. Maya, usually a rock in the surf, felt tears burning in her eyes too. Fear for her daughter engulfed them both like a blazing fire.

"We have to go to the university immediately," Maya spoke, interrupted by the muffled sound of the news in the background. Carina nodded, the determination in her eyes reflecting the inner strength that mothers could mobilize in times of crisis.

The fear, worry and hope blurred together as they set off together, seeking reassurance that they would do everything in their power to get you out of there.

[imagines--galore]

Kili x reader angst where they're courting so reader has in the braids and beads et. But reader gets taken during a fight as a prisoner and they punish her by cutting off her hair n such and she's so apologetic and guilty to kili when he sees but he just sees red because whoever they were fighting violated his love (cuz in dwarf culture that's cruel). Angst comfort mega combo

Pairing: Kili x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Angst. Comfort. A bit of fighting and a bit of trauma but thats it.

A/N: Moving from one city to the other really takes it out of ya. Anyway! I am now back and writing again. Omg I LOVE this request so much! Much fluff. Much feels. :3

Also I am now taking requests so go ahead and send me stuff. You can find my rules here. Please send me stuff to write!

You couldn’t help but feel giddy. More then once your hand would raise to the newly formed braid in your hair. It rested beside your left temple and you could still feel the warmth of Kili’s fingers where he had braided it not even a few hours ago. It felt strange to have a new braid, but one you were more then proud to wear. The bead and braid both signified your status with the Royal Family. But more then that. It told the world that you and Kili belonged to one another.

Placing the last of the packs onto the cart, you gave a small nod to the driver who stirred the ponies into motion and began carting the now loaded goods back to Erebor. You had been traveling with the tradesmen to exchange goods with a nearby village. Your ailing father had not been able to make the trip, and being his only child, the duty had fallen on your head. Two members of the Royal Family, namely Thorin and Kili had decided to accompany the party in hopes of forming some alliance with the village Master.

It had been the night before that Kili had requested your presence. You had been confused at his strange behavior. Normally, Kili would be full of words and he never had a problem to articulate them. That night though, he had been stumbling over his words and when he had finally caught on to your confusion, he had simply held the bead out to you.

To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

It was true your feelings for the young prince were rather strong and deep, but you had never imagined that his ran just as deep as yours. Tears had filled your eyes, but you had blinked them away before reaching up to pull down the hood of your cloak. Kili had stepped closer, his fingers reaching out to take a section of your hair which he then began to braid. The two of you were silent as he expertly attached the bead with his family crest at the end of the now finished braid. The silence made the moment all the more intimate.

As soon as it was done, you gave him no warning before you had jumped into his arms had embraced him tightly. The small clearing now rang with joyous laughter as he spun you around, before setting you down and sealing the moment with a kiss.

You were so lost in reliving the memory of last night that you did not notice the strange dwarf approaching you from behind. Not until it was too late. 

Fleeing was not an option, as several dwarfs began to attack the ones she had come with. You could only struggle helplessly as you and several other dwarfs were thrown in the back of a cart and the thieves made quick work of escaping, taking whatever loot they had gathered, and whoever they had captured.

Including you.

                                              -------------------------

It had all happened rather quickly.

The dwarfs had taken several hostages, including you, but it had taken next to no time for the soldiers of Erebor to be dispatched to rescue everyone. However, the few hours you were held hostage was enough for a few things to transpire.

One of the kidnappers was tormenting an old dwarf, kicking him around to make him walk faster. Not being able to sit quietly, you had snapped at the abuser, prompting him to turn his attention to you. He had told you to shut up, before turning back to his previous task. You had picked up a rock and thrown it at his head, the small projectile meeting its mark.

Only once his attention turned to you, did you realize that perhaps you shouldn’t have done that. He marched over to you, before yanking you away from the group of kidnapped dwarfs huddled together for safety. You had kicked and screamed the entire time, yet your cries fell on deaf ears. Multiple kicks were aimed at your torso and face, yet they did not hurt as much as when the dwarf yanked at your hair.

Once his greedy eyes landed on the bead Kili had gifted you, his lips pulled into a menacing smile. Pulling out a wicked looking dagger, the dwarf carelessly chopped off the braid Kili had so lovingly braided. You barely noticed as the steel of the blade cut across your forehead, you cried in despair as the braid with the bead was thrown in a nearby fire where it smoldered to nothing.

It was only seconds later that the warriors sent to rescue you fell upon the enemy emitting blood curdling war cries. Yet you barely noticed as you continued to stare into the depths of the small fire, tears filling your eyes, as you mourned the loss of something so small, yet so significant.

Feeling a warm hand being placed on your shoulder, you glanced up to see Dwalin looking down at you with a kind and gentle expression. Slowly, you allowed him to guide you to where his pony stood waiting. He helped you onto the animal, before getting behind you. You barely noticed anything and anyone around you as the triumphant rescue party began to trek back to Erebor with the kidnappers in tow.

                                             -------------------------

To say Kili was beside himself with worry would be an understatement. The moment he had realized what had happened, and that you had been one of the dwarfs kidnapped, he had wanted to take the first pony and run after you. His uncle, however, had other ideas. Fear of this being a plot to draw the royals of Erebor out in the open, Thorin had decided to send his best warriors, led by Dwalin, to retrieve you and the other dwarfs. Still it did not stop Kili from screaming at his Uncle to let him go, neither did it stop him from telling Fili off for siding with Thorin.

His heart felt as if it would beat right out of his chest. His mind raced with thoughts of you. Every single moment you had both shared, before being replaced by the sight of you broken and hurt lying somewhere out in the open. For hours he paced the ramparts of the mountain, looking over at the horizon, to try and catch a glimpse of the returning warriors.

It was a few hours later that he heard the distant call of a horn. All over the mountain horns began to blow, signalling the return of the rescue party. Kili was the first one at the gates, straining to catch a glimpse of you as the small band of dwarfs approached. Dwalin rode at the very front and reached first. He was quick to dismount, before moving to help lift your trembling body from the back of the pony and set you on the ground.

A wave of dizziness overcame you, as you swayed on your feet, yet the feeling of two familiar arms wrapping around you and supporting your body, was able to give you a little strength. You raised your wide eyes to look at Kili’s face. The sight of him, looking so worried and relieved, broke whatever shred of control you had as you collapsed against him and began to sob over your loss.

“I’m sorry, Kili. I am so sorry. I-I lost the bead you gave me. T-th-they cut my braid and I tried to save the bead but they threw it in the fire. I-I c-couln’t-” Here your strength seemed to fail you as your knees collapsed underneath you. Luckily, Kili was there to catch you. Wrapping his arms more firmly around your frame, he pulled you close. Briefly the world around the two of you disappeared as he comforted you.

His face was buried in your hair as he whispered sweet nothings and reassurances in your ear. Tears streamed down your cheeks and onto his clothes as the trauma finally registered in your mind. So far you had been focused on protecting and helping the other captives. But now? With Kili’s arms around you, you simply could not hold yourself together. Your body shook with each sob as Kili pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

The Dwarf Clan that had decided to attack the citizens of Erebor were more then a little nervous now. They had no idea who you were. No idea that you were the betrothed of a Prince of Erebor. Each dwarf shuffled nervously as Kili finally raised his head to look at each of the dwarfs in turn.

His eyes held a rage that made his hands tremble as his gaze swept over the villains. They would pay. Every single one of them would be held accountable for the horror they had inflicted upon his beloved.

“My son?”

His attention was briefly diverted by the presence of his mother. Behind her stood his Uncle and brother, alongside many other dwarfs who were greeting their own loved ones that had been kidnapped. When they had arrived, Kili had no idea. Dis reached out to gently extract you from his embrace. Kili moved to protest but a look from his mother had him stay silent. “I shall take care of Y/N. See her injuries are not severe.” Her eyes flitted to the captured dwarfs. Kili could see fury in his mother’s eyes as well, mirroring his own. But he knew Y/N needed to be taken away. He had no desire for you to see what he was about to do the captured dwarfs.

Nodding, Kili reached out to press a kiss to your forehead. “I will see you soon, my heart.” He whispered to you in Khuzdul. You raised your tear-stained cheeks to meet his gaze as Dis gently pulled you away. You followed the motherly dwarf after a parting look to your betrothed.

Once you had safely entered the mountain, Kili turned his attention back to the Dwarf Clan that had dared take you from him. He glanced at his brother and Uncle. The former’s anger was equal to his own, since he considered you family and hated to see you hurt and in despair. His Uncle simply raised his hand and spoke. “They will be punished however you see fit, sister-son.”

The dark look that crossed over Kili’s features had the Dwarf Clan regretting what they had done, and praying he would show some leniency.

                                             -------------------------

As soon as you had returned to your chambers, Dis had shooed your handmaidens so that they may prepare a warm bath. The older female dwarf had held you close to her side as the handmaidens prepared the bath for you. Though as soon as everything had been laid out and she was in the large tub, you spoke.

"If you don't mind, Mother, I want to be alone."

You didn't want be in anyone's presence at the moment, wanting to grieve the small yet significant loss on your own. Dis seemed to understand the reasoning behind your words and gave a small nod. Once the handmaidens had departed, Dis leaned down to press a motherly kiss to your brow.

"If you need to speak to anyone my dear, let me know." With a parting smile she left.

You had no idea how long you sat in the tub for. Her hand hung around you, unbound and free, floating in the warm water. Taking a small breath, you submerged completely in the water, closing your eyes as you allowed the warmth of the water to envelope your tired aching body. You could've stayed down in the cocoon of safety forever, but you needed to breath.

Emerging from the depths, you took a deep breath.

You didn't know for how long you sat in the water, feeling utterly numb and refusing to let yourself acknowledge what had happened. Perhaps it would be wise to simply move forward from the event.

Pretend it hadn't even happened.

It wasn't until you started to shiver from the now cold water that you stepped out of the bath, and wrapped a warm thick robe around your body. Water trickled from your hair, leaving a small puddle as you walked towards the vanity. Your fingers brushed against the handle of your comb when your gaze shifted to look in the mirror. The sight of your empty eyes, and the lack of the braid Kili had so lovingly put in your hair was the breaking point.

A whimper echoed in your chambers, followed by the sound of sobbing as you let loose the pain and horror. It finally sank in just how frightened you had been. Terrified. And amidst what had happened, you had lost something so so so precious.

The thought only made you sob all the more harder.

You didn't hear the door to your room opening, didn't catch sight of the pained look that overtook Kili's features as he ran to gather you in his arms.

"What is it my heart? What hurts?" He asked, checking you over to make sure there was no serious injury. You shook your head, just clutching to him. It took a little while before your sobs subsided and you calmed down enough to take a deep breath and speak.

"I'm sorry." The word hadn't even left your mouth before Kili cut you off. "You need not be sorry for anything my love. Nothing is your fault." His hand gently caressed the small area near your forehead where your braid had hung just this morning. You averted your gaze, shame coloring your cheeks, but he grasped your chin, and gently turned your head to look at him.

"I ran into Mother on my way hear. And she gave me something." So saying, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small bead. It was beautifully crafted, and she could see the skill behind it despite the tears still welling in her eyes.

"My father gave this to my mother, when they were betrothed. And now she wants you to wear it." Your eyes widened and you shook your head. "Kili, I couldn't this is your father's gift to your mother." You said, leaning away from him slightly.

He smiled. "She considers you a daughter Y/N, she offered this to you. But should you feel strongly about it you can wear this for a few days while I create another betrothal bead for you." He said, his fingers already grasping a new section of your hair. You were silent as he began to braid your hair anew. With each lock of hair intersecting, you could feel your soul being pieced together once more.

Finally, Kili clicked the bead into place, and smiled at you. "Just as beautiful as ever." He said, his eyes meeting yours.

An involuntary giggle fell from your lips at his shameless flirting. One of the many traits that had won you over. "Thank you Kili." You closed whatever space was left between the two of you and pressed your lips to his.

His fingers buried in the hair at the back of your head as he returned the embrace. It was sweet, slow and seemed to sooth whatever leftovers the both of your had. And as he held you, you couldn't help but feel safe and loved.

"I love you, Kili." You breathed against his lips. You could feel him smile gently in response before he whispered back his response.

"And I you, Y/N."

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! I love your blog, i discovered lots of beautiful fics here..I wonder if you have any fics that uses Crowley as a bait for Aziraphale to get hurt..I tried looking in the whump tag but couldn’t find what I was looking for. Thanks 🙏

Hi. You might also want to check our #kidnapping and #bamf aziraphale tags. Here are some fics for you...

it's love that sets us free (but it's also why we're bound) by rainbow_salt (T)

When the stunt they try to pull on Heaven and Hell fails, Crowley is taken hostage by Gabriel as a bait to get to Aziraphale.

Lured by EdosianOrchids901 (M)

Aziraphale comes home to an empty cottage, a blood trail, and a ransom note. Meanwhile, Crowley realizes that he’s being used as bait to lure Aziraphale into a trap. Will they be able to rescue each other?

Little Pistol by Jikanis (G)

Aziraphale wakes up in the cottage he shares with Crowley in South Downs, five years after Armageddon-that-wasn't. Crowley is missing, and Aziraphale is willing, as always, to go to Hell and back to rescue him.

when you least expect it (but always when you need it the most) by contradictory_existence (T)

Crowley stubbornly stays silent as Gabriel steps even closer into his personal space. “Look at you,” the archangel sneers, circling around him in a perversion of Crowley’s usual saunter, “a demon following an angel around as if he’s on a leash. Pathetic. I don’t think your superiors would take kindly to that, you trailing after him like a lovesick—oh.” Gabriel stops suddenly, eyes widening in a mixture of shock and disgust. Aziraphale’s heart plummets. No, not like this. Please, not like this. after the failed apocalypse, aziraphale vanishes, heaven tries to use crowley as bait, and it turns out that the angel has been hiding under everyone’s noses.

Night Of The Livid Angel by Magical_Bucket (T)

Summoning a demon can be very difficult to do, but if you're successful, you can have power most would only dream of having. Summoning an angel is even more difficult, but they can give you so much more. Or, If you're able to summon the right demon, the angel will just come to you.

Sacrificial Lamb by ShesAKillerQueen98 (M)

Crowley finds himself in a very dangerous situation when he's captured by a religious cult. Without access to his powers, his only hope is that Aziraphale hears his pleas in time.

- Mod D

[electronickingdomfox]

"The Romulan Way" review

Novel from 1987, by Diane Duane and Peter Morwood, and the second part of the Rihannsu series. Though it largely deals with a new story and characters, there's definitely an advantage in reading first the previous novel in the series ("My Enemy, My Ally"), since there are references and returning characters from there.

The book is a blend of novel and historical account for the Romulans (or should I say "Rihannsu"?), with chapters alternating between the history reports of a Federation spy across the Neutral Zone, and the present adventures surrounding the characters. The history chapters may be a little difficult to get into at first, because they read like... well, like history. But they're actually pretty interesting, and develop Romulan history from their sundering with Vulcans, to the days of the Star Empire. They're full of rich details about Romulan politics, legends and mythology, that still stay true to the Roman "flavor" of the series' aliens. And they introduce Surak's charismatic pupil, S'task, who could be considered the "father" of Romulan culture. However, I'm not sure if much of this was eventually incorporated into canon, which is a shame, really. The main story itself is brief and simple, but I found it quite compelling, specially in the characters' interactions (I really liked the relationship between the main character and her lord).

McCoy is at the center of the plot (with Kirk and Spock nowhere to be seen), but the true protagonist is Arrhae, the servant manager of a Romulan noble house that has lived better days. As usual with Duane's novels, there's an appearance of Lt. Naraht the Horta, here playing an important role at the end. And in contrast with the honorable Romulans that still value their traditions, we also have the sadistic villain, who's after McCoy this time.

Overall, this was an enjoyable read with great characters and occasional touches of humor, and it made me care more for the Romulans. For the summary, I'm just going to focus on the main plot, leaving aside the historical account.

Spoilers under the cut:

We're first introduced to Arrhae t'Khellian (the servant manager for the house of H'daen tr'Khellian) in her everyday activities. Her lord comes from a noble lineage, but currently has little political influence, so he's always searching for allies (with barely any success). As for Arrhae, her position as house manager gives her a certain authority and trust from her lord, so she's not exactly "just another servant".

Meanwhile, McCoy is aboard a civilian starship, headed for some rutinary, academic assignment, when the ship is attacked and boarded by Romulans (led by Commander t'Radaik and the shady Subcommander tr'Annhwi). The Romulans are after the ship's cargo and certain important passengers. So McCoy offers himself as hostage, since he's an Enterprise officer that has commited many "crimes" against the Empire. And he's surprisingly calm about the whole affair (also, strangely enough, his full name is given as "Leonard Edward McCoy", despite the third film establishing it as "Leonard H."). The Romulans capture the ship, satisfied with this hostage, and tow it to Romulus (here called ch'Rihan). Though there's a sudden explosion in the cargo holds while they're in orbit. After this, McCoy is taken as a political prisoner, and entrusted to H'daen to take care of him until his trial (read, execution).

At the house, McCoy seems to recognize Arrhae, and makes a discreet gesture to her, that she half answers. It's then revealed that Arrhae was in fact a Federation spy (surgically modified to appear Romulan), but had become so assimilated into the local culture, that she had forgotten her previous identity. McCoy's signal stirs her memories, but the sudden remembrance is too much of a shock for her, and she refuses to acknowledge it. McCoy is given a guest room at house Khellian, and treated decently. But he's at first unsuccesful in his attempts to reach Arrhae. That was, in fact, his true mission: checking on this particular agent, that had stopped sending reports a while ago (and that's why he was so calm upon capture; it was all arranged). The danger, however, is real, since he's going to be executed in a few days. And on top of that, Subcommander tr'Annhwi gets awfully interested in the doctor, and offers tons of money to H'daen to buy him. Arrhae begs her lord to refuse the offer, since tr'Annhwi just wants McCoy for his sadistic entertainment (I'm not sure it's ever explained why he hates McCoy so much, though). Wavering at first, the Romulan lord finally understands that selling a defenseless man for that would be dishonorable and a breach in trust, so he refuses.

On the other hand, there are also people who're trying to help the prisoner. Arrhae is surprised to find a talking rock one day in McCoy's quarters: Naraht, who was inside the ship's cargo hold, arranged the explosion, and fell through the atmosphere, to later burrow his way to the house. And in the city, she's approached by a sympathizer of Ael (from the previous novel), who wants to help McCoy escape. Arrhae is torn between helping an innocent man and keeping her calm life in Romulus, as she's torn between her two identities. But finally, she agrees to arrange a meeting between the sympathizers and McCoy. The doctor refuses to escape just yet; Starfleet has implanted a microchip in his brain to gather information, and he needs to attend the trial in front of the Senate to do so. But he asks them, nonetheless, to send certain codes to specific coordinates in space.

The day of the trial arrives, and McCoy is brought to the Senate with Arrahe. He invokes the Right of Statement to defend himself. Even though it's useless and his sentence is already decided, the statement can be as long as the accused wants, so it serves him to buy time. Thus, McCoy goes on a ridiculously long speech, up to explaining to the Romulans how to make a mint julep. He was already running out of conversation, when finally Naraht makes his grand entrance. Having burrowed all his way from the house to the capital, he has grown to enormous size and wreaks havoc among the senators. In the confusion, McCoy gives Arrahe the chance to return to the Federation. But she has become too accustomed to Romulan culture, and considers this her true home (though I feel the novel should have introduced some personal friends of her; as things are, it doesn't seem she had much of a family there...). Arrhae fakes a escape from McCoy, and charges at Naraht, to make it look as if she's resisting.

At that moment, Ael's ship Bloodwing breaks through the roof of the Senate (led there thanks to the codes sent to her coordinates), and its Commander beams down. Ael has some merciless criticism for the corruption and dishonor of current Romulan politics, and takes the legendary Sword of the Empty Chair (an act which has a great significance once you know the history behind it). After this, Ael, McCoy and Naraht escape in Bloodwing. Tr'Annhwi, however, won't let matters to rest (he's really, really fixated on McCoy), and follows them in his own ship Avenger for a last battle above the city, before being blown to pieces.

In the aftermath, Arrahe is elevated to senatorial status, in recognition of her "brave" stance against the Horta. And she will use her power in the future to mend fences between Romulans and the Federation.

Spirk Meter: 0/10*. Kirk and Spock aren't even there!!

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

[redheadspark]

Might I formally request Azriel with 9. Cuddling to keep warm and 1. “Your hands are cold”

A/N: This is VERY Azriel for certain! Thank you for the request, anon!

I Got You

Summary: Though past memories will haunt you, Azriel will stand by to protect you.

Warnings: Just some fluff :)

You sighed in relief as you placed your pen down, looking at the stack of papers you conquered that were taken care of throughout the last hour or so. It was your fault for letting it go on and not getting it done sooner, but you had other appointment and obligations to attend to first. Thankfully, you boss was the High Lord of Night Court, and he was more lenient with you when it came to your duties.

You were his twin after all.

Getting a small stretch in and feeling some of your muscles stretch out in both strain and satisfaction, you got up from your office chair and blew out the candle that was burning on your desk. The evening has already come and the Townhouse was already lit up inside to give a warm inviting glow to the outside world. Velaris was already coming alive that night, the mountains bringing in cooler winds from the high peaks and the bay was already at a glow.

You loved Velaris in the evening, especially in the fall since everything was now tin tinted in red and orange. Moving over to the window, you closed it since you felt the air was getting cooler and cooler by the second. As if on cue, the wooden floors under your bare feet warmed and the interior lights gave off a dim glow to it. The Townhouse was a true home for you for the past hundreds of years, giving you a place to hide and a place to be at peace.

Even with your brother being captured for 50 years.

Walking down the hallway, you went up the stairs to your own room, touching along the stairway railing and feeling your massive bathtub call your name. You didn't mind the tedious work, it was nice t be occupied and to get things gone. Being still with nothing to do was torture to you: you had to find something to do or something to fix. It was in your nature to help, to aid those who needed the help and to protect the defenseless. It was a trait that caught the eyes of your mate.

Speaking of which.

Where are you? You asked in your bond, reaching your master bedroom and slowly stripping off your sweater and shirt, avoiding your scars that were along your shoulder blades. You heard the Townhouse starting the massive claw foot tub in the middle of your bathroom suite, getting it at the right temperature for you since you liked it more on the hot side.

Nearly done at the training grounds, sweetheart. He replied softly, you grinning as your let your hair down from the braid that was behind your back, I'm in need of some time with my wife.

I'll be waiting then, You hummed in the bond as you were slowly sinking into the tub, a soft moon on your lips as the hot water was inching around your skin. Feeling your muscles come undone within moments, you leaned back against the edge of the tub and you closed your eyes for a brief moment, letting the water do tis work along with some soaps that were added with a second. It was all so soothing to the touch, making your feel like you could melt into the floor if you could. A soft smile was evident, inwardly being thankful that you were in this positive moment of time again.

Not like how it was some months ago.

Rhysand being taken under the mountain and held hostage for 50 years, Velaris and all of Night Court being cloaked from the rest of Prythian, the rumors of war becoming more and more true as the years came and went. It was all chaotic for you to endure as the High Lord’s sister and a member of the Inner Circle of Night Court. It felt like the weight of the world was on your shoulders, trying your best to keep Velaris safe from prying eyes while your brother was nowhere to be found.

He saved your life in more ways than one when you two were young: concealing you in the shadows as your sister and mother were murdered, helping heal you as your wings were cut off from your bare back in retaliation from a irate Illyrian soldier, even making you part of his Inner Circle when he came into power as the High Lord of Night Court. Rhysand loved your fiercely, you were his last living family member and he would take on any risk to keep you alive in his life.

Even if that meant his own life being at risk. The stubborn fool.

Still there were plenty of nights you cried in your bed, praying to The Cauldron to bring your brother home safe and sound. You had no care about anything else of your duties as the Second in Command of Night Court, you just wanted your kin. The very brother who would tease you and make you laugh, who would hold you tight during the nightmares that involve your deceased mother, who would tell you who strong you were and that you were a leader.

Those 50 years away from him made you tough and yet weak, strong and yet unstable. But it was not all miserable, you had helped behind you when it came to caring for Velaris and Nigh Court. Your allies were in the Inner Circle, all of whom you considered your family. They swore to protect you when Rhysand became the Night Court High Lord, your safety was their priority in diplomatic negations amongst other Courts and meetings with other leaders. One member, in particular, caught your heart in more ways than one.

"Darling?"

You hummed, opening your eyes slowly to see the silhouette of your mate hovering over as you were still sprawling in the tub. The water felt a bit cooler then, making you wonder if you fell asleep and lost within your own thoughts for some time. You knew the silhouette far too well: the angled cheeks and the messy short hair, the strong shoulders and pristine upper arms. You grinned as a scarred hand reach down to touch the side of your face. As his fingers made contact with your cheek, you shivered.

"Your hands are cold," You murmured, sounding a bit sleepy as his hand retreated.

"I'm sorry, my dear. Come, let me get you warm then," The voice replied, you leaning up a bit in the tub as you finally saw his face amongst the lights in the room.

Azriel the Spymaster.

Azriel reached over to grab a towel ready for you as you got up slowly on your feet in the tub. Being bare and covered in water, Azriel merely kept his eyes on your content face and soft yes as he helped you from the tub. Yet before you could take the towel to dry yourself off, Azriel was rubbing the towel along your skin, starting in your hair and then down to your arms one at a time. Watching Azriel as he got you dry with patience and precision, you thought back to when you two fell in love and became mates.

It was almost like a dream come true, or something you need in the right moment. You and Azriel grew up together since your mother took Azriel in and helped him in his time of need. According to him, you caught his eyes even at a young age but he was too shy and scared to say anything. You had no problem to standing up to your twin when he was pompous or unkind to others, especially to Cassian whom you considered a younger brother at times. Azriel loved that fire in you, but he also loved the kindness that could never be dimmed from inside of you no matter how hard it was attempted.

Yet for those 50 years of being on your own in Velaris, Azriel snuck into your life without you realizing it. He gave you counsel in tough decisions, helped teach you how to fight with hand to hand combat to both make you equip to defend yourself and to keep your mind occupied, and even held you in times of sadness and loneliness. You cared for him, adored his company and his sound wisdom when to came to tactics. But just being with him made your heart light, as if he could bring you more hope than you could ever need.

So falling in love with him was both scary and yet easy.

Once you were dry, Azriel hoisted you in his arms with no care you were still naked from your bath. You rested your head against his chest, hearing the strong heartbeat under his thin shirt he wore as he walked you into the master bedroom. The warmth of the bedroom was from the lit fireplace on the other side of the room, opposite from the master king sized bed that was waiting for you. Azriel lowered you down onto the bed with ease, placing the sheet over you within an instant as he you watched him with fondness and with happiness. He paused, seeing you stare on him as he cocked his head at you.

"What?" He asked, you sighing as you shook your head.

"Nothing," You replied, "I'm just happy,"

Azriel knew your struggles even after you two were mated. Only the Inner Circle was in attendance when you two had a ceremony, thinking it was high time you two got together since clearly they all saw you two pining over one another. They all knew before you two did, which seemed rather odd but neither of you cared. The one person that wished would be there was Rhysand, but to have Azriel as your husband and have that ceremony with your new mate was enough.

Azriel loved your fiercely and with all of his being, never letting you feel any less love than you deserved. He knew the burdens you had as the second in command of a city and a Court since your brother was still captured, and he made sure your needs were met before anything else. You wouldn't have lasted those 50 years without Azriel, and you were grateful for him.

Azriel stripped down to his own bare skin like you, slipping under the covers to pull you into his arms. You felt all of his hard muscles, breathing in his distinct scent and aroma that you knew far too well after being mated for a few centuries, and the body heat that he had summing warmth along your bones and blood. He was your home, everything and anything that he could give you would be more than enough as you two held one another under the covers to stay warm and secure. Feelings his fingers dance along the scars where your wings used to be, almost as if he wanted to soothe away that haunted memory and replace it with something more loving and kind.

He as already done that.

When Rhsyand escaped from Under the Mountain and with the defeat of Amarantha, you propelled into your brothers arms as you two were reunited again at the House of Wind. He held you for so long, crying in your hair and you feeling that love again. Your worries were no longer evident, the haunted night you would have with nightmares and sleepless hours were going to fade away since you had your brother back and your household was stable again. But it only took your brother a few minutes to realize that you and Azriel were mates, and it made you worry. He may have been gone for centuries as a prisoner for Amarantha, but he was still your bother.

Your overprotective brother.

He and Azriel only spoke for a good 30 minutes in privacy, though you knew Rhysand would never go against your own heart since he knew you were set in your own ways. Just like him. So he only left Azriel with a warning:

"You hurt my sister, I'll break your neck,"

"Fair enough, Rhys,"

You felt sleepiness hit you as Azriel as still tracing your scars along your backside as he was pressing gentle kisses along your forehead, your arms around his lower waist as your legs tangled in one another. This kind of intimacy was something you both loved and craved, it the deepest way you both wished to be loved and to have one another, nothing being a barrier for either one of you as the rest of the world can burn for all you cared.

He was the fire in you that you never wish to extinguish, the light that could never vanish, the very love you longer for since you were young and naive to the concept of love. His love was better, deeper, filled with promise and with care.

"I got you, my love," He hummed against your hair as he could almost sense you were thinking of the past, of what you went through with your brother, and how you felt alone. Azriel held you close, making you hear his breathing and feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, true examples that what you had together was real and this was no trick of the mind, "Let it all go, okay? I love you,"

You two held each other that night, letting the fire in the fireplace dance in the dim light while you feel asleep while being held by your lover and savior.

The End

Halloween Prompts

[mariacallous]

As a devastating crisis continues to unfold with the horrific bombardment of Gaza, there is little sense of how it will end. As a lifelong student of Israel-Palestine, I found my mind racing through many historical dates to find parallels, meaning, and direction.

Perhaps the date that comes to mind for most people is Oct. 6, 1973, the start of an Arab war effort to regain land taken by Israel in 1967. The 1973 surprise attack, which was 50 years and a day from the Oct. 7 Hamas assault, caught a recalcitrant and hubristic Israel off guard and fundamentally changed the way it thought about its policies toward Egypt in the years that followed, paving the way for a historic peace agreement a few years later.

I thought about the 1968 Battle of Karameh. This battle, little known in Western narratives of the conflict but hugely consequential in Palestinian ones, came after the 1967 war, when Israel enjoyed an aura of invincibility. PLO fighters alongside Jordanian soldiers fought the Israeli military, destroyed some military equipment, and captured more. The battle sent the message that Israeli power was not what it seemed, and it helped swell the ranks of militant factions across the region.

But a more important date stands out: Sept. 6, 1972. The day prior, Palestinian guerrillas had killed an Israeli coach and athlete and taken nine other members of the Israeli team hostage at the Munich Olympic Village, where all the cameras of the world had assembled, and by the time a botched rescue attempt by the German police had concluded, all the hostages and most of the Palestinian guerrillas were dead.

The world watched this all play out on live TV. Before that moment, and perhaps since, no set of events has had a more consequential impact on the emergence of what I call the terrorism framework: a set of policies and practices that defines how such moments should be understood, responded to, and prevented.

At the time, the Nixon White House was scrambling to figure out how to respond. Its foreign policy at the time was focused on detente with Moscow in an effort to manipulate Soviet and Chinese relations as the U.S. war on Vietnam raged. The Middle East, a massive arena of U.S.-Soviet competition, could easily derail all of this. President Richard Nixon’s now infamous tape recorder gives us insight into the thinking at the time.

On Sept. 6, Secretary of State William Rogers had a conversation with Nixon in the Oval Office in the presence of National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger and other officials. Rogers’s message to Nixon was straightforward: What happened in Munich was a symptom. “Say Israel retaliates and blows up something in Lebanon, that doesn’t help anyone,” Rogers told Nixon. “What this does indicate to the world is that we’ve got to solve the problem. It’s a hell of a thing to have 11 Israelis killed, and it’s a hell of a thing to have millions of people homeless all these years. So the problem has to be solved.” Nixon was receptive to Rogers’s argument, but Kissinger sat quietly and was alarmed.

Kissinger left the Oval Office and telephoned the Israeli ambassador in Washington, Yitzhak Rabin, to tell him about the meeting. Kissinger had his calls taped and transcribed as well. After hearing about the Oval office meeting, Rabin feared “that those who carried out the action in Munich succeeded beyond their expectations.” Kissinger urged Rabin to go to the U.N. Security Council to try to build a global consensus around fighting terrorism even if the United States and Israel would be isolated there.

Kissinger told him going to the Security Council would “not lead to any practical results but it will focus the problem on an issue on which we can talk jointly while the great danger that I see is that in a few days people will say—as was said at the meeting this morning—we must remove the cause of this.” He urged him that they should do it “before people start thinking about the problem.”

Kissinger was concerned that if the global debate about Munich was not immediately redirected toward uniform condemnation of the Palestinian guerrillas, the more people might think about the root causes and Palestinian grievances.

Herein lies the trap of the terrorism framework. It ostensibly aims to counter political violence, but it does so in a way that ensures political violence persists—by exceptionalizing it as a form of violence that comes from a vacuum. Unlike most forms of political violence—such as interstate conflicts and civil wars, insurgencies, rebellions, or political repression—terrorism is not something we are encouraged to understand the causes of; at best, reductionist explanations chalk up motivations to ideology, which, in the Palestinian case, is transparently flawed since Palestinian political violence has always transcended ideological divides.

By adopting this framework, opponents of this violence position themselves as standing with the victims of it and condemning the perpetrators. But in reality, they are merely condemning them all to continued and more horrific rounds of carnage.

It is a framework that allows leaders with the greatest capacity to prevent such violence—in this case, the leaders of the United States and Israel—a way to absolve themselves of responsibility at the expense of the very people whom they have a responsibility to protect. At the end of the day, it is always ordinary people, not states or policymakers or the media outfits that amplify them, who pay the highest price for this commitment to not thinking.

Israel, of course, would go on to blow up many things in Lebanon after 1972, and its invasion of southern Lebanon 10 years later led to a nearly two-decade occupation and the birth and strengthening of Hezbollah into a force that now requires U.S. aircraft carriers to help Israel deter.

It is easy to react to this by claiming that understanding the causes amounts to justification. That is precisely what this dangerous framework encourages us to do: It flattens political violence into a question of good and evil—to which impulse, not thought, is the only fitting response.

The reality is that political violence is part of the human condition and always has been, long before Zionism and long before Palestine. When humans commit to study pathology, it is not out of some desire to justify the diseases that plague us but rather to try to eliminate them; to the extent that there is any evil in this equation, it is in the ideological commitment to refuse to examine the cause of the disease. Without a genuine understanding of why this is happening—one that does not exceptionalize the problem or the perpetrators of violence on any side—it becomes impossible to heal what ails Israelis and Palestinians alike.

The terrorism framework absolves leaders of responsibility to address root causes, but it can also be manipulated in ways that magnify its harm. There is no better example of this than Israel’s policy toward Gaza over the last decade and a half. It was precisely because Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu knew he could rely on the terrorism framework absolving him of any responsibility for Gaza that he preferred to keep Hamas in power there so he could prevent any diplomatic progress toward ending the occupation.

This logic has been explained by multiple Israeli officials over the years. In 2005, when then-Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon decided to remove Israeli ground forces and settlers from Gaza, it was billed by many as a concession toward achieving peace, but, as his advisor Dov Weisglass explained in a 2004 interview, it was a move designed to do the exact opposite.

By keeping Gaza separate from the West Bank and ensuring Palestinian political fragmentation and a failed statelet in Gaza, Israel was creating an excuse to never make peace that it knew would be accepted. This “no-one-to-talk-to certificate,” which Weisglass said would be approved by Washington, says: “(1) There is no one to talk to. (2) As long as there is no one to talk to, the geographic status quo remains intact. (3) The certificate will be revoked only when this-and-this happens—when Palestine becomes Finland. (4) See you then, and shalom.” This approach, Weisglass added, “supplies the amount of formaldehyde that’s necessary so that there will not be a political process with the Palestinians.” Netanyahu, according to the Jerusalem Post, told his associates in 2019 that propping up Hamas in Gaza would keep Palestinians divided and that “whoever is against a Palestinian state should be for” it.

The PLO had renounced terrorism and recognized Israel (even though Israel never recognized Palestine’s right to exist), and those shifts in PLO positions brought it out of the terrorism framework and into the peace process. But Hamas didn’t follow the same path, in part because the group saw how that path had failed to produce any results for the PLO. Netanyahu, who was always opposed to Palestinian statehood, understood that Hamas represented a get-out-of-talks-free card, just as Weisglass had envisioned.

The costs of the failure to think about the problem have never been higher. More Israelis were killed on Oct. 7 than at any time in the country’s history. More Palestinians have been killed in Gaza in three weeks than in all of Israel’s previous military operations in Gaza combined. Save the Children has said that the “number of children reported killed in Gaza in just three weeks has surpassed the annual number of children killed across the world’s conflict zones since 2019.” The horrific and ever growing bloodshed underscores the failure of military solutions.

How many Israelis and Palestinians would still be with us had we committed to thinking about the problem—rather than avoiding it—in 1972?

Breaking from this continued pattern of violence requires an understanding of the difference between justice and vengeance. The lesson that the Greek playwright Aeschylus taught so many years ago is as easily forgotten as vital to remember: The difference between the two concepts is law, which exists only to the extent that there is faith in the equal application of it.

When illegal violence, including war crimes, committed by one side is routinely condemned and the perpetrators held accountable and illegal violence by the other side, including war crimes, is never condemned and the perpetrators are instead excused and enabled to continue perpetrating such violence to ever greater extents, law exists not as an instrument of justice but an instrument of oppression; vengeance reigns; and we lock countless more innocents into lives of horror.

This is precisely where the terrorism framework has led us.

[synchodai]

HotD Live Reaction Episode 8

Season Finale be upon ye.

Tyland!!! Finally, my fave is given screentime.

In the books, the Free Cities using the Stepstones as a glorified toll booth already happened. They were the reason the crown was willing to let Daemon and Corlys go to war over them in the first place because highborn and merchants were complaining. In the show, it appears as if the greens are offering an alliance in exchange for the Stepstones — I'm not mad at the change, but it is something a nobleman who's heavily involved in trade from Lannisport to King's Landing would almost never agree to.

Sharako Lohar actually looks Lyseni!

"So what was the fucking point in all of this then?" You tell em, Eggy T.

Seven dragons? Syrax, Caraxes, Moondancer, Vermax, Silverwing, Vermithor — Rhaenyra has six. She doesn't have Sheepstealer (yet).

They're writing it so Aegon was jealous that Rhaenyra was called the Realm's Delight? He knows she was called that because she was pretty and went on these "suitor searches" throughout the realm, right? These bachelorette travels did a lot ingragiating her to the realm in the books — so her epithet is a very gendered one specifically referring to Rhaenyra as a maiden. Aegon might as well be jealous that he's not called "pretty princess."

Great, so Jeyne Arryn lost a Targaryen princess in the Vale mountains.

Deterrence????? Deter your enemies from doing what? They've already taken the throne? There's nothing go deter them from, you have to use violence to force them to release it. Rhaenyraaaaa...

"Helaena is no warrior." But so are you. Rhaenyraaaaaaa...

If anyone but Matt Smith were Daemon's actor, I doubt they would be able to sell this wishy-washy character so much. Does he or does he not want to be king? Who knows at the point, certainly not Alfred Broome.

"Not like this." So you would prevail at war...without having people go to battle? Sometimes I think some these characters don't even know what a civil war is....

Did Gwayne really see Criston sniffing a piece of cloth and go, "omg they fucked"?

Too much talking, not enough doing for a story about war.

I do not like how that they made a POW who endured immense torture Tyland into a character who gets punched and humiliated for laughs.

"Do you believe you are the first noble heir not sired by his father?" Heir to the throne, yes. Yes, he is. It's like a whole deal, Baela. Ugh, I hate this line.

Tyland did so well with the pirate shanty! 🥰

"You wish for us to kill innocents." I understand Hugh saying this, but BAELA??? HOW LONG HAS BAELA IN THIS WAR AGAIN?

Jace is the only character giving believable conflict and acting like an actual person informed by his history and society this episode, I swear. Everyone else is dumping exposition, a mouthpiece for the writers, or a one-note caricature. Jace is to the latter half of this show as Aegon was to the first half.

I HATE THE PROPHECY. WHY IS HELAENA COMMUNICATING THROUGH A WEIRDWOOD AAAAAAH

Helaena being really super specific now with these prophecies, sheez

Loving the Harrenhal set though! It's clear where the love and effort went to on this show.

Daemon Stark, what? So it took an actual slap from deus ex weirwood for Daemon to resolve his season-long conflict.

Live Simon Strong reaction.

YES ALYN, LET'S GOOOOOOO THIS IS WHY I WATCH THIS SHOW

ALICENT?! ON DRAGONSTONE? WITHOUT BEING CAPTURED AND HELD HOSTAGE AT THE GATES????

Oh, thank the Seven, Cregan isn't with the Winter Wolves. That would have been dire.

Is that Otto??? In what looks to be a jail???

The last few minutes is basically a curtain call and set-up for season 3. It's beautiful, but god, it all feels like this could have been a raven.

[bobattef]

He’s come for you:

….

-> I watched Rogue One again last night, in particular the Darth Vader end scene.

 Imagine if you (the reader) were captured alongside the stolen Death Star plans.

The Rebels thinking you were just another trooper working for the Empire but you were Lord Vader’s secret lover and he was fighting his way though that famous hallway scene to rescue you, and the plans of course <-

***

All you could hear was the alarm from the ships warning system.

It was blaring across the corridors, bouncing off the walls.

You were being hurried along, dragged almost, by 3 rebel fighters. 

Out of breath from trying to fight them, trying to keep those Death Star plans hidden, safe.

But you were vastly outnumbered.

“In here!” came a bellowing voice, you look up to see the opening doors of an holding cell, the rebel fighter who shouted trying to usher you inside it.

“I thought we said no hostages?!” comes another voice, this time behind you.

“Just retrieve the plans and get out!”

“Retrieving those plans are the reason why we have a hostage!” the other official snaps back.

Digging your heels in, you flail your arms trying to get away from their grasp on you, to try to stop them from taking you away, away from your base, away from HIM.

Darth Vader.

After giving the task of being a guard for the Sith Lord back on his base in Mustafar a few weeks prior, you spent every minute of every day alongside him.

You fell very hard, very quickly and knew a side of him that no one else did.

You couldn’t believe it when he started showing his interest in you too. 

You’d spend hours on end in his quarters just you and him.

No one else knew of course.

The other officers just thought you were carrying out your duty of guarding him yourself.

And he never once dropped even a smidgen of a hint about how attached he was to you.

On the outside, whilst surrounded by others, he was cold towards you, barley even glancing your way most of the times under the gazes of your fellow troopers, but when those doors slid shut to his quarters, it all changed.

He’d be on you like a rash, sometimes not even managing to get out of his suit in time.

Using the force to his full advantage also to get you to make all his favourite kind of sounds fill his room. 

You were never touched nor fucked by another man like Darth Vader did it.

He’d have you whimpering time and time again as you came over his cock, or even just his fingers depending on the time limit you had together.

Your heart skipped a beat when images of him flashed through your mind just now. 

*Will you ever see him again?*

A pang of sadness hits you, just as you feel the pain from the impact from one of the officers blaster being hit off the back of your skull as he tries to force you into the cell. 

“Aaaah” you cry out as your vision goes blurry.

You’re knocked unconscious.

***

Lord Vader’s breathing is almost deafening though his apparatus.

Along side his remaining troopers following him now to his shuttle, they have never seen the Sith Lord so angry before.

They had taken the Death Star plans which meant they had taken her.

The rebel officers had snatched away his first hand guard in pursuit of getting their hands on the plans. 

And he was livid.

Shooting upwards away from the firey surface of Mustafar, the Lava rivers bubbling and blowing below like it was feeling the anger radiating from Darth Vader.

“T-minus 2 minutes until we reach the rebel force freighter my lord” the pilot calls back to Vader but he doesn’t answer.

He just focuses on you, he has to get you back.

He never once thought of having such feelings towards another being after, you know who.

He thought he wasn’t capable of it.

But he can’t let you slip away from him.

He’s in too deep.

You were always there, listening to him talk about anything or even rant about the latest incompetence of the other troopers.

No matter how angry he’d be, it’ll melt away under your smile.

He wrote off the chance at being with another woman ever again, but that first night you and he finally cut the sexual tension in the room, it was the best he’s ever had!

He pushes the memories he has of you to the back of his mind, instead reaching it out to try and find you.

He can sense your presence even from this far, he felt the fear that went through you as you were taken aboard their ship.

He knew that there was something horribly wrong when he could almost hear you shouting inside his mind, felt you fight to guard his base, his quarters, his plans.

He couldn’t get there fast enough. 

A few of your colleagues were defeated, slumped over along the corridors leading up to the room and his heart dropped thinking that one of them could have been you.

No one knows about you and him. 

No one knows that you are of any more importance than his other troopers.

They could kill you on the spot and not realise just how much of a necessity you were to him.

He can see the rebel ship come into view now as his imperial shuttle breaks through the atmosphere of his planet.

Reaching out with the force he knows you’re still alive. 

All be it, you’re definitely weaker, possibly knocked out.

Another wave of anger radiates through him.

He’s going to kill them all.

Every single one of them.

And he’s not going to stop.

***

The continuing blaring alarm brings you back round to consciousness.

You blink a few times, hoping the memories flashing though your mind about what has happened is all a bad dream.

Opening your eyes you soon come to realise you are in binders.

Sat on the floor, your back leant on the side wall of the holding cell you were in, keeping you sat upright.

The pounding in your head reminding you of the blow you took from one of the rebel fighters.

*from behind…the coward!* 

You think to yourself, teeth clenching together as a new wave of adrenaline starts to pump around your body.

*You need to get out of here*

Trying to get on your feet, you wobble a bit.

Wether it’s due to the dizziness of the hit you took or because you need to find Lord Vader, need to let him know where you are.

*Where are you?*

You stumble over to the door, trying to prize it open with great difficulty as your hands are binded together, it’s locked tight.

“There’s no use fighting…” you almost jump out of your skin at the voice, the other person that’s inside this cell with you.

“Just tell us where the plans are and…” 

“And what?!” you snap back.

“You’ll kill me either way!” you almost spit out the word kill.

The rebel fighter sighs out loud “we’re not like him you know? Not like the Empire…

Tell us where the plans are to the Darth Star and we will let you go” 

“Bantha fodder!” You shout at him and turn to face the door again, trying to work out a way to get it open.

The small window on the door is sat at a certain height which makes you have to tiptoe to peer out of it.

It’s no good though as all you can see is the darkness of the corridor that’s on the other side.

*The lights must of been taken out*

You think out loud as you turn around, sinking down the length of the door, you almost curl up into a ball as you hit the floor.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

You’ve never been sensitive to the force but you’d try anything right now to get Lord Vader to know where you are.

*please, please, please be ok*

You try to force out some sort of signal into the darkness of this very corridor.

To let him know you’re alive, all be it a bit bruised and battered.

Your ears strain along with your eyes closed as it seems you use all your senses at once to try and figure out an escape plan.

A small crackle of a radio breaks the silence between you and this rebel officer as you hear a voice over his comms.

“Commander…A ship…a ship has docked sir! Sir! A shuttle has landed on our freighter and…and…argh!” 

A smile creeps across your face as you lift your head up at those panicked words.

You don’t need to be with the force for you to know who the officer on the radio is referring to.

He’s come for you.

“No! Come in…officer do you read me?” you can almost hear the fear in the rebel fighters voice.

“Dank ferrick!” He shouts and you let out a small chuckle. 

The commander looks at you dead in the eye, you see some sort of change in demure flash across his eyes.

He stalks towards you, grabbing at your binded wrists he pulls you up on to your feet.

“Tell me!” he’s shouting so close to your face you can feel tiny bits of salvia coming out of his mouth at every word he says to you.

“Tell me where those death star plans are!! Now!!” 

He lands a back handed slap right across your face, dropping his grasp he had on you too so the impact caused you to hit the floor.

You spit out and notice blood on the floor from the cut that has now formed on your lip.

You should be scared, it hurt like hell that hit but you smirk up at him instead.

He’s so screwed when Lord Vader sees what he’s done to you.

Your reaction to him hitting you doesn’t have the desired affect so he kicks out in anger, landing his boot right across your ribs.

You cry out in pain this time.

Your side starts to throb along with your lip thats definitely swollen now.

“Tell me or I shall beat it out of you!” the venom from his words drips out as you think to his earlier remarks of not being like the Empire.

Trying to calm your breathing you gather up enough energy to stand but the rebel commander grabs you by your hair, pulling his other arm back he’s ready to strike you again but he stalls. 

You glance up at him, wondering why you’re not feeling the sting of yet another hit, why has he stopped but that’s when you hear it.

The distance screams of men.

You hear a bundle of footsteps, people are running down the corridor past the door you are locked behind.

They’re shouting.

They’re panicked.

He’s closer.

The rebel commander lets go of you once more and walks over to the door, peering out the glass much easier than you could due to his hight.

That’s when you see it, his face is covered in a red glow almost immediately as he screams out in pain.

Looking down towards his waistline, you see the searing light of a red saber.

It’s penetrated through both the door of the holding cell and through the body of the commander…

Darth Vader has found you.

[toreii]

Lost in the Book with Stitch part 45

Disclaimer: This is a fan translation. I apologize for any mistakes. I’m by no means fluent in Japanese, but I try my best. Please, support the official translation when it comes out. Be kind and friendly, and feel free to support me by donating a ko-fi if you’d like. Link is in my description!

Uninhabited Island - Near Spaceship

Gantu: “What the heck…all the capture robots have been destroyed…”

Gantu: “T-This is such a failure, how can I report this to the top…?”

Lilia: “Kufufu. It looks like you’ve run out of troops.”

Lilia: “Give up, Gantu!”

Floyd: “Let’s get baby seal-chan back.”

Gantu: “Kuh……TEMPORARY RETREAT!”

Gantu: “I’LL BE BACK ON MY FEET……AND CAPTURE NO. 626 FOR SURE!”

Ace: “Ah, Gantu is escaping on the spaceship!”

Riddle: “I WON’T LET HIM DO THAT!”

Riddle: “WHAT THE!? My magic was repelled by a mysterious barrier…!”

Azul: “What is that barrier… It’s like a different power than magic.”

Jack: “Gantu’s spaceship is flying at an incredible speed.”

Yuu:

“Grim was taken.”

“We have to get Grim back.”

Lilia: “Don’t feel down. Grim is a valuable hostage, and he shouldn't be treated badly.”

Ace: “That’s why we can’t take it easy!”

Floyd: “Who’s taking it easy?”

Floyd: “I can't forgive him for running away in the middle of a brawl.‥”

Floyd: “I’m going after Gantu right now, and settling this once and for all.”

Ace: “Wait, wait, how are you planning on chasing him?”

Ace: “If you fly too high, or go out of bounds, with magic, you’ll fall just like Lilia-senpai did the first day!”

Jack: “Yeah. If only there was another way to go after Gantu without magic…”

*Stitch pokes Riddle*

Riddle: “Hm? What is it, Stitch? Do you have an idea?”

Stitch: ……

Lilia: “Huh!? Stitch is…”

Lilia: “S-STITCH’S SHAPE HAS TRANSFORMED!?”

Lilia: “It has six limbs...vivid antennae, and strange spikes on its back.…..uh-huh…”

Lilia: “EVEN SO, THIS IS STILL CUTE!”

Floyd: “Is this the bug that baby seal-chan first mentioned? He wasn’t mistaken.”

Azul: “You really are an alien… This more than proves it.”

Lilia: “What is it, Stitch?”

Lilia: “…You have a good idea to help Grim?”

To be continued…

[gatefleet]

Language Absorption

Stargate: SG-1: Jack O'Neil, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c

WordCount: 975

T(W): Defensive infiltration, Unsolicited Kissing

Requested: Yes; "Hello! If it's alright could I request a platonic fic with the og sg1 O'Neil, Jackson, Sam, and Te'ok with a Tameran reader or a reader with Tameran powers? Like fire, star beams, OH and learning languages by kissing! Maybe with Sam or Daniel??" - @lemonadae-caekie

A/N: Sorry this took so long. Figuring the layout was difficult and there's been a lot of personal issues going on, but I hope this is what you're looking for!

The team were always aware that there was a high chance of meeting another race of people, a culture, a form of civilisation. They occasionally forgot that there was a high chance that the people on the other side had only known death, destruction and abduction from the ring which they emerged from. When you saw the ring begin to spin, saw the lights coming from it, you had your fellow watchers raise the alarm. Your people took up their defensive positions and waited. Some out of sight, some in plain view. Those in the forefront had their eyes glowing, building up energy for their powers to defend if, or when, necessary. When the strange object appeared from the ring the leader asked for a pause from your people, you looked at him  incredulously, unbelieving that they would ask you not to attack. The leader ensured they had a light energy pulse around their hand for protection before touching the object before them. Once they had touched it, a strange noise came from it. In their confusion, and presumption of an audio attack, one of the other sentries release an energy blast, nullifying the object before the sound could cause any lasting damage to planet or those before it.

A couple of months had passed on your planet before the ring powered up again. Again, the alarm was raised, again the object appeared. This time they allowed the strange sound to continue, the scientists of the planet had reasoned that should a similar instance happen again then it may be a form of communication. So instead of destroying the device, they captured it to study.

SGC was discouraged when the mount went offline, thus how the SG-1 team was sent through. They were advised to keep their head on a swivel and to be extremely cautious with the information they had already received from the 2 mounts. They were given a time to check in and if they missed that check-in then the next available or next closest SG Team would be sent through as backup. O’Neil nodded in understanding and ensured that his team were adequately armed. Jackson and Carter had both been given time previously to research and study the tapes from the mounts.

When the ring began to power up again so soon after the capture of the strange object, your people immediately began to panic and the sentries and protectors were sent to the ring. When the strangers arrived through the portal of the ring, they were immediately taken down for capture and interrogation. You were called along with 2 others to question your hostages once they had awakened. The way they communicated was strange, you looked between your people and the hostages. Your people could have learned the strangers languages fairly quickly through lip to lip contact, but as they had come through the ring, the reluctance to potentially contaminate or allow a foreign virus to spread through the people was high. After an hour of allowing the hostages to try and cooperate you and your team had left the room to regroup and try to come up with another plan to try and communicate with the strangers. The scientists and medical experts of your people had gone in and taken samples from them. You watched the strangers through glass, how they interacted with one another, how they responded to the situation. You hated waiting around for results, they were always somewhat anti-climactic, you felt.

As you watched them you noticed that the one with the strange symbol on his head was very stoic, unreactive, but very observant. The female was more on edge, her mind constantly working, she looked like she was trying to figure out an intricate puzzle. The one with the strange objects perched on his nose, supported by his ears – he was less calm than the rest, trying different expressions with his hands, fingers, body language and even his voice, he was the most intriguing. Then there was the one with the strange object on his head, he was sitting, listening to his people, removing the object, fidgeting with it, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. When you finally got word that they did not appear to carry any foreign disease or viruses, you were relieved as this meant you and your people could finally get some answers. You were, of course, advised that anyone who did take the risk and learn the strangers language, then they would be quarantined for several weeks to ensure that nothing was missed in the tests. You indicated that you understood the risks, as did those who were joining you, and you all began to return to the room. You allowed the one with the nose objects to try and communicate with you again, conferring with your colleagues on if they were understanding anything or had an idea as to what was attempted to be communicated. When they confirmed that they also had no idea what was being said you sighed, rolled your eyes and went to the female, placed your lips on hers for a few seconds and stood back. The effect was immediate, from the female becoming instantly defensive and demanding an explanation, to the one with the head object immediately trying to put his body between you both. Your colleagues immediately took a defensive stance, eyes glowing, fists clenched. You raised your hand to tell your people to stand down and spoke to the strangers.

“I apologise for any offense caused. This is how our people, Tamarians, are able to understand and communicate with the people of other planets. Due to the lack of ways to express this, we’ve found the best approach is to learn quickly and explain ourselves once we have absorbed the language.” The look on the strangers faces was shock, awe, and disbelief.

Taglist;

@lemonadae-caekie

[plethora-of-imagines]

Plethora's Pleasant-mas Advent Calendar: Day 12- Good Soup [Chapter 2]

Words: 2720

Warnings: Sick!Reader, descriptions of sick symptoms, night terrors, iv fluids, sedation, nudity, non-sexual intimacy

Shadows hovered and grew around your paralyzed form. It was unsettling to have creatures observing you. You couldn’t remember when you had been separated from the Doctor, or been captured.  Body felt too heavy to move and you knew that you were in danger. Your only hope would be the Doctor swooping in to save you.

Several minutes passed with them watching you, none of you moving. The blinding darkness of one of them moved closer suddenly, stopping you from being able to see beyond the growing darkness. It was worse than when the Doctor had taken you to see a black hole in person. Darkness that grew and overtook any receptors in your eyes. No light, no wavelength could make its way to your wide eyes. Panic had overtaken you as your mind had assumed that never would you see again. Blinded by wonder of something so incredible yet terrifying that your mind had melted away into base reactions alone.

The shadowed creature reaching for you inspired a similar reaction but the awe you felt only held terror. The arms of dark shadows pressing against you. Managing the energy to fight back you thrashed against them. Pinning you down. The strength of the creature outweighed your own, only needing one arm to hold you in place. Messing with some sort of equipment on the side of the bed you were kept hostage on. 

Head spinning as something foreign overtook your mind. Black spot overtaking your vision. It only encouraged you to continue your fight against them. You needed to escape, the Doctor wasn’t here. It was up to you to save yourself until she could save you. Teeth digging into the inky black form, enough to make them let you go in surprise. Stumbling out of the bed, the line connecting your arm to some sort of pole snatching. Not allowing you to flee with ease. Tugging at it you attempted to yank it from your arm, to free yourself from the unknown substance infecting you. 

“Stop fighting!” The call of your name in a familiar voice disarmed you for a moment.

The black creature taking on a glow, the form of your Doctor. The moment hung suspended in time. Your body relaxing, no longer tense. No need to fight now, she was here. Reality only took a few moments to come crashing back to you. The haze of shadows surrounding the image of her gave you a clue that this was a trick. The creatures somehow knew that her image, this illusion, would make you complacent.

Fighting back even more viciously as reality swirled around you, your attempts to fight futile. Dragged by hundred of hands down into the nothingness that surrounded you. Tingling skin, as the darkness started to burn your senses.

The next time you knew the world once more you tried to rub the sleep from your eyes. A squeeze of your hand as it was pressed back down had you stopping. The crook of your arm was all achey. And the gentle pressure of another hand in yours was nice. Soft yet calloused skin from tinkering intertwined with yours.

You slowly recognized that the Doctor was next to you. Her coat draped over the blankets covering your legs. Leaving her in just her long undershirt and t-shirt on top. Muscles tense, well defined with how flexed they were. Ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

"Not going to argue with me this time?" She stares you down, looking into your very soul with stern eyes. "Going to finally listen to me and stay where I've put you for your own good."

The steady beeping and machinery slowly started to make sense to you. Sedated. With your inability to breathe and deteriorating condition, the Doctor had sedated you. Allowing for your body to catch up with fluids. Had you been fighting to leave bed in your sedated state? 

Suddenly the Doctor was in your personal space. It was her's, if she wanted it. You weren't going to dare object to sharing the same air between the two of you. Her eyes were closed, stopping the moment from being overwhelmingly intimate. You could feel her hair brushing against your cheek with the little sway of your faces. Foreheads pressed together.

All too soon she pulled away.

"Temperature is much better. Think you might be on the mend soon."

Disappointment flooded you at the clinical explanation for the tender moment of contact between you.

“That’s good then,” you croaked out.

Your throat hurt now that you had tried to use it. Before you could process it a cup was held up to your lips. Greedily you took gulps of water before the cup was forced away. Coughing as some of the water tried to go down wrong.

“Oi! Small sips now.”

You took her warning to heart as you took small sips when the water was returned to you. She tipped the cup slowly to ensure that you couldn’t drink too much at once this time. Several minutes later you had finally finished the half a glass she allowed you.

“Now what?”

“Now, you rest.”

“But Doctor,” you whined. “I was just sleeping.”

The stern glare she sent your way had you backing down. Okay, guess you were going to rest more. The Doctor could be intimidating when she wanted to be. Already bored now that you didn’t feel that death was a better option for you, you stared up at the ceiling. Tracing patterns that weren’t there into the smooth, blank surface.

The subtle looks out of the corner of your eye showed that the Doctor had begun to busy herself with other things. It looked like she was reading some sort of guide for being sick. All you could imagine now was the Doctor curled up like this in her own room. Shoes off, as she curled up in a chair with her legs folded up beneath her. A book with the stereotypical yellow cover boasting “A guide to humans for dummies”, on it. Maybe you should see if a book like that really existed, it would help her a lot some days.

Hearing your stifled laughter, an eyebrow was raised in question at you. Silently asking you what was so funny. Shaking your head you dismissed her questions. Knowing that it wouldn’t be funny to her. Besides, keeping her curious was nice sometimes. Revenge for all the guessing she made you do. It might be petty, but you were sick. You were allowed to be petty.

Giving up on asking before she even truly attempted it, the Doctor turned back to her book. When she was sufficiently distracted you slowly creeped your hand closer and closer to the nightstand. Reaching into it you managed to grab your phone. Maybe you could watch a movie or something. Well, maybe not a movie. A game? The Doctor would probably not notice that.

“Hand it over,” she commanded with an outstretched hand. Not even looking in your direction.

How had she known?

With a grumble you surrendered it to her waiting palm.

“You can play on your phone in a couple hours. Right now it will only give you a headache again.”

Pouting even when you knew she was right you laid there dreadfully bored. Drifting in and out of focus, but refusing to sleep again on principle. The minutes dragged along, achingly slow. Ugh. This was a new form of hell. Maybe sleeping would be better just to make it pass sooner.

The loud slam shut of her book stole your attention back. Head snapping in her direction. Ow.

“New plan, quick shower first!”

“What?”

"You're too worked up to go to sleep, and so unwilling to try. So let's get you cleaned up and then you can sleep."

She was a hurricane of movement suddenly. Gathering whatever you could need for your shower. New cozy pjs, warm soft towels. Door opened that led to the shower, wandering in and around as she prepared for you.

Climbing slowly out of bed you managed to forget that the IV existed. It yanked you back into bed with a stumble as you failed to move away from the mattress. Hands rushed to steady you, the clanging of plastic bottles as they landed harshly on the floor just as startling as your body being yanked back. 

“Careful there! Can’t have you knocked unconscious, that wouldn't be the rest you require.”

The Doctor’s fingers trailed across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Pressing down firmly against your wrist with unrelenting pressure. Heartbeat echoing against your joined skin.

“Little fast, wonder why,” she let her curiosity hang in the air between the two of you.

She didn't push, only waited to see if you would admit to her why your heart would be racing. Ignorante of her affect. Satisfied at least with how your heart wasn’t broken in some manner, she carefully drew the IV out of your arm.

It felt strange. You were more than thankful when it was finally over. Rushing away the Doctor gathered the fallen supplies before she made her way back to your side. It took you longer than it should have to realize that you needed to stand up to make your way to the bathroom. Leaning against her body for support as you hobbled over to the bathroom. 

Legs heavy feeling. Attempting to drag you down to the floor. It was more exhausting that you had been anticipating. Unable to conceived of feeling this much weight in your entire body. To yourself you could finally admit that perhaps the Doctor had been right, you should be resting. Still you had gotten this far, been this stubborn. You didn’t dare give her ammunition to use against you now.

Only once she had helped you to remove them did you realize how uncomfortable your jeans had been. Neither of you had thought to take them off, forgetting that they were there to hinder your comfort. Too tired to be flustered even her hands brushing against your bare skin as she took off your shirt garnered almost no reaction from your body. It was intimate in a somehow innocent manner. Simply her helping you to get relief from the sinus pressure, fuzzy head, and general discontent from the state of your body.

The soft pattering of the shower head and the steam collecting to fog up the bathroom made the aches of your body fade into the background. Dozens of tissues were held to your nose for you to expel all of the snot that had taken residence. FInally able to breathe out of your nose. A happy sigh of relief left your open lips.

No shyness existed in you as the Doctor removed your bra and panties. The sickness had flushed it out of you along with your ability to feel any shame or embarrassment. Needing to lean on her as you stepped into the shower under the onslaught of water. TIghtly gripping her arm when your legs wavered. Abandoning you for a moment in order to shove off her suspenders and trousers, before joining you under the water. 

Her shirt sticking to her undershirt, water causing it to cling to her skin. Didn’t seem to care one bit that she was soaked. Instead entirely focused on making sure that your hair was slowly washed, skin lathered, and that you were generally kept from falling to the floor beneath you. Once your hair was rinsed out, you couldn’t help but press your head against her chest. Ignoring the wet fabric now trying to cling to your face in favor of just enjoying when she held you. Fingers cascading through wet hair, attempting to hold onto wet skin that her fingers slipped from.

Humming little songs under her breath, almost hidden by the noise of the water. Letting you tire yourself out just from standing alone. The hot water feeling so wonderful against your tense muscles. Nimble fingers working through knots in your back as she let time pass without complaint. Without acknowledgement of how your body was starting to sink more and more into the ground, into her body- her gravity. Following her lead you allowed her to pull you from underneath the water. Towel secured around you as she quickly shed her sopping wet clothes. 

Wetly flopping onto the tile where she tossed them. Discarding them as an issue for later. As if magically someone other than her would be able to take care of them. Now as naked as you were she turned her attention back to your shivering wet form. Gently rubbing your skin down until it was mostly dry, only slightly damp in some areas. It was a chore to pull on the underwear she had brought in for you. Noticing your struggles, the Doctor elected to finish helping you dress. Soft fuzzy fabrics encircled your rapidly deteriorating - in terms of wakefulness- body. The Doctor had to practically carry you back to bed. Without the scalding water, shivers racked your form. It was cold. You complained as much to her.

With an indulgent smile she climbed into your bed, keeping you in her arms. It was a struggle for her to grab her jacket to pull around your body as an additional layer to keep you warm. Mainly as you refused to let go of her. Shoving your face against her warm skin, lips pressed against her collarbone. Happily humming as she lifted the hood to cover your head. Layers upon layers of clothes and blankets overtop of you. Clinging to her with a feverous intensity as coughs began to wrack your body again. Warm and content you allowed yourself to stop fighting the sleep that threatened to drag you down.

In and out of awareness, as every time your mind surfaced with any form of clarity she was there. The comfort of knowing that she had stayed as your personal body pillow allowing you to relax and be pulled back under into the blissfulness of the dreaming world. No more terrors to attack your mind while the Doctor was watching over you. She would always protect you.

It wasn’t long for you until you finally emerged from the grasps of sleep to the gentle hum of the TARDIS. Lights still dim as candle light, creating a cozy environment in your room. It took you a few moments to realize that the light no longer hurt your eyes. You felt, well, still tired, but otherwise good. Healthy. No longer as dreadfully sick as before. It would probably be a few more days of you taking it easy before you were ready to venture outside of the TARDIS but you should be able to manage leaving your bedroom now. So long as the Doctor was willing to allow it.

“Am I considered well enough for a brief venture outside of this room? Please Doctor? Just the kitchen, I promise I won’t make anything too laborious.”

Looking down at you with eyes alight the Doctor smiled at you. Shuffling about as she attempted to free the two of you from the cocoon that you had both crafted together. Her hair was sticking up wildly. Unable to fully free herself before she crashed to the floor, covers still tangled around her legs. Now she was looking up at you as her face lit up with laughter at her own clumsiness.

Untangling herself as she spoke, “Alright. We can take a look around for something in the pantry.” Scooping you up into her arms again, “But I’m not allowing you to walk there yourself.”

Noses touching. So close to each other. You couldn’t help blurting out your feelings for her when this close, this overwhelmed with affection for how she lovingly took care of you when you were a sick mess. Who could resist confessing to her now? Maybe someone not still slightly sick who realized that it was not the most romantic of times.

“I love you,” you blurted out in a rush.

Somehow she managed to glow even more than before.

“I love you too,” no hesitation in her return of your love. “Now! Let's go get you some food. I could go for a nice toastie, myself.”

[celeatiallenses]

---C A M E R A M A N, T A P E 2---

---"Wrath of Greed"---

I call you today to witness the tragedy of Greed

Come thine to troubled times of the earth

And thought the earth was at peace

Reigning in the shadows greed was

Unkempt, unchecked, untamed

Suddenly our heros arrived

Beneath the roof of the factory, the action raged

Oppression was the enemy that day

Rioting for freedom, Sohn and Mune were

Next dawn, the heros and the captives came forth

---C O N C L U D E---

-The following is an eyewitness account from Tony Banks, former hostage of the Twinkle affair, and close friend to Sohn and Mune

"I was one of the people, stupid enough to undertake the deal made by Mr. Twinkles. I was supposed to deliver a package to a factory, when I got ambushed and knocked out by some thugs. When I wake up, I find myself in a cage inside of a dark an ominous facility. I cramped in here with two other boys my age, one wearing casual clothes and the other wearing a weird suit and eye-visor. From what they told me, Twinkles and his crownies has been luring in people with a phony package delivery deal and capturing them. Apparently, Twinkles was going to sacrifice us all in order to create "The Life Stone" or something like that. The whole idea sent shivers up my spine. My dread only grew further, four guards came to take in the first load of prisoners for the sacrifice. Suddenly, the other boys in my cage vanished in the blink of an eye, and the all four guards were laid down in an instant. Standing before me was Sohn and Mune themselves, glowing with their celestial splendor. Swarms of guards began pouring into the cell block to suppress the celestials, but their efforts were fruitless. I watched in awe, as the celestials darted, dashed, and danced around the room, laying down guards left and right with their mystical powers. The celestials almost seemed to be playing with their foes. As almost as soon as it had started, the conflict ended and the celestials left room. As soon as they had left, the doors on all the cells flew open, letting me and the others all free. I have heard stories of the celestials in action, but never would I think I would witness it."

-The Following excerpt is taken from the census report files in the aftermath:

---All hostages accounted for, none dead, none injured

---150 Men and Woman arrested, all associated with Twinkles

---3 Absent: Subject 13(location unknown), Kane "Twinkles" Ivory(Imprisoned by the celestials in another dimension, due to being "biologically unstable"), Unknown serpent-like creature named "Greed"(location unknown)

---Mune is currently tracking down Greed

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Horror Masterlist

Always, The End (ao3) - Astroash94 ot4 N/R, 12k

Summary: Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Don’t exist.

“...I wish you would hurt me harder than I hurt you...”

fear the fever (ao3) - kingscrossinseptember luke/ashton M, 8k

Summary: The breeze shifts and Ashton catches a whiff of a new scent that makes his heartbeat stutter. It’s cold and metallic and hungry in a way that shouldn’t be possible to emulate via smell, which means it can only be one thing: a vampire.

Heavy On Our Heels (ao3) - Branithar M, 1k

Summary: While working on a space ship, Ashton, Luke and Geoff are captured and held hostage by pirates.

i'm not alone (ao3) - orphan_account ot4 M, 22k

Summary: calum had worked hard to get into uni on a sports scholarship. all he wanted was to play football, pass his classes and meet the occasional hot guy.

instead, he moves into a haunted house with his best friend and discovers he might have magic powers? this starting to smell like a netflix original series to anyone else? at least there are still hot love interests, right?

It Happens In April (ao3) - Astroash94 luke/calum/ashton N/R, 15k

Summary: In August summer ends. In September autumn starts. In February, winter ends. And in March spring begins.

But what happens in April?

mirror :: malum. (ao3) - eaty0urveggies michael/calum M, 11k

Summary: "you really should be afraid."

or,

When Michael receives an old mirror for his birthday with a scary past.

lowercase intended

stay on the path (ao3) - mimi_reads T, 1k

Summary: It's common knowledge that when one goes into the woods, one should stay on the path.

or, another horror story about 5sos

Tears Remind You You’re Alive (ao3) - NarryEm niall/harry, zayn/louis, luke/ashton, michael/calum, liam/sophia

Summary: Niall, along with eight other guys, are chosen to participate in this year’s Run and they dread it so much. None of the survivors ever come out of the Heartbeat Mansion unchanged and the details are never released to the public. Can they all survive the horrors that await them?

The ghost of you (ao3) - Goldrush23 luke/ashton M, 589

Summary: 3 stupid boys play 1 stupid and end up setting free a ghost from 1890

the world is vast (and filled with terrible horrors) (ao3) - riibread N/R, 4k

Summary: “Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, cosmic horrors beyond our comprehension, yadda yadda,” Michael rattles off, “yo what the fuck?” All four of them huddle around Michael’s laptop screen. There it is, Luke gives a casual glance at the information, what little he reads brings the nausea back tenfold.

or

What happens when four musicians have to deal with terrors beyond their comprehension? The answer is fucking around and finding out and the power of friendship.

To Be Unbridled And Unburned (ao3) - Branithar michael/calum, luke/ashton E, 8k

Summary: Since a wealthy businessman found his pelt while he was relaxing on a beach several years ago, Calum's done his best to make the most of his new life. He hasn't been able to like his wife or their home or their neighbours, but he's surviving, at least. Unbeknownst to him, rumours of what his father-in-law did have spread and a shady group of traveling magicians have taken interest in his situation.

Trapped in a Horror Movie | Niall-Centric (ao3) - xdistorted_cliffordx T, 12k

Summary: It was the night an innocent prank went bad.

All these six teenage boys wanted to do was mess with their friend Niall on Halloween by going to an abandoned mansion. That's all. Just to give him a little scare, to change up their age old tradition of watching horror movies.

But it's a night that will alter their lives forever, one they'll never forget.

Because unlike years past, the boys will be trapped in a horror moie, fighting for their lives, trying their best to escape the mansion.

With each other.

ALIVE.

would you kill for me, my darling? (ao3) - mimi_reads michael/luke M, 1k

Summary: Michael and Luke have a conversation with unexpected consequences.

Your Eyes Are Cooler Than My Beating Heart (ao3) - CliffordAffliction michael/luke E, 64k

Summary: Michael is a demon who somehow makes Luke want to die and live all at the same time

[formidablecompanynews]

While You Were Sleeping: 5 stories you might have missed, Aug 17 - Information Today Online https://www.merchant-business.com/while-you-were-sleeping-5-stories-you-might-have-missed-aug-17/?feed_id=168072&_unique_id=66bfe6e156146 #GLOBAL - BLOGGER BLOGGER Google News US’ Blinken heading to Israel to press Gaza truceUS Secretary of State Antony Blinken will travel to Israel this weekend to push forward a Gaza ceasefire deal as the United States tries to bridge the gaps in talks in the region, the State Department said.Blinken will leave on Aug 17 and seek to “conclude the agreement for a ceasefire and release of hostages and detainees through the bridging proposal” presented on Aug 16 during talks in Doha by the US, a State Department statement said.President Joe Biden earlier on Aug 16 said that “we are closer than we have ever been” to a ceasefire in the 10-month-old Gaza war after two days of talks in the Qatari capital Doha.“We’re not there yet. It’s much, much closer than it was three days ago. So keep your fingers crossed,” Mr Biden said.READ MORE HEREGoogle News Gaza records first polio case in 25 yearsGaza has recorded its first polio case in 25 years, the Palestinian health ministry said on Aug 16, after UN chief Antonio Guterres called for pauses in the Israel-Hamas war to vaccinate hundreds of thousands of children.Tests in Jordan confirmed the disease in an unvaccinated 10-month-old from the central Gaza Strip, the health ministry in Ramallah said.According to the United Nations, Gaza, now in its 11th month of war, has not registered a polio case for 25 years, although type 2 poliovirus was detected in samples collected from the territory’s wastewater in June.READ MORE HEREGoogle News Ukraine advancing in Russia, ‘strengthening positions’Ukrainian army chief Oleksandr Syrskyi said on Aug 16 that Kyiv’s forces were advancing between one and three kilometres in some areas in the Kursk region, 11 days since beginning an incursion into Russia.Kyiv has claimed to have taken control of 82 settlements over an area of 1,150 square kilometres in the region since Aug 6.Briefing President Volodymyr Zelensky via video link, Colonel-General Syrskyi reported fighting in the area of Malaya Loknya, about 11.5 kilometres from the Ukrainian border. He said he hoped the fighting there would allow the Kyiv military to capture “many prisoners”.READ MORE HEREGoogle News Pilot dies after aerobatic plane crashes in FranceA small aerobatic plane crashed into the sea on Aug 16, during an airshow off the coast of south-east France with the pilot trapped inside, officials said.The Fouga Magister aircraft was performing at Le Lavandou just before a demonstration by the French air force’s elite acrobatic flying team, a French air force spokesman told AFP.Built after World War II, the Fouga Magister was for many years used by the French army as a trainer jet and aerobatic plane. It has no ejection seat.READ MORE HEREGoogle News Joshua Zirkzee an instant hero for Man UnitedJoshua Zirkzee made himself a Manchester United hero on his debut with a late winner to beat Fulham 1-0 in the opening match of the Premier League season on Aug 16.Zirkzee, lacking match fitness after his £36.5 million (S$60 million) move from Bologna in July, came on only for the final half hour.The Dutch international saved the Red Devils from a frustrating evening at Old Trafford when he poked in Alejandro Garnacho’s cross on 87 minutes.READ MORE HERE http://109.70.148.72/~merchant29/6network/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/g603ecea1c53a3f4714b67856c588eecd095be81b8f7223bfcb572356b315317b081cf81bbdd90dbb904d70d93e467277817.jpeg Google News US’ Blinken heading to Israel to press Gaza truce US Secretary of State Antony Blinken will travel to Israel this weekend to push forward a Gaza ceasefire deal as the United States tries to bridge the gaps in talks in the region, the State Department said. Blinken will leave on Aug 17 and … Read More