#otp: I've got you

[burningblake]

SOLAS & LAVELLAN in Dragon Age: Inquisition ↳ What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf take you? And so he did.

[thirdeyeblue]

“Nine would have treated Martha better than Ten did”

I need to talk about this argument that never seems to stop circulating.

Note: Not a venomous/anti post. There’s more than enough of that across fandom spaces as is, and this is supposed to be a place for ✨sweet, blissful escapism✨

When making this argument, people seem to envision a scenario in which Nine never met Rose.

While I can appreciate a good hypothetical, recognizing Rose's significance to the Doctor (Nine and Ten) is essential to understanding why things with Martha played out the way they did in the first place.

In the third series, the Doctor is grieving. This grief is deliberately threaded into nearly every script, whether spoken aloud or not (and these are just a few examples):

He's burning in Rose’s wake the entire time Martha travels with him, which is why it’s so frequently called upon: It’s 100% deliberate in framing his grief. He grieved as Nine too, of course— having been fresh on the heels of the Time War — but then he met Rose, which changed everything.

Back then, he was still a rude, traumatized pain in the ass, but we watch Rose soften more of those jagged edges with every episode as they grow closer; as he lets his guard down and forms a deep connection with her.

He falls in love (against his better judgment) and it's game over.

And yes: provided S1E1 had been titled 'Martha', one can realistically assume things might have unfolded similarly to how they did with Rose. However, it wouldn’t have been that way just because the Doctor was Nine and “Nine was different” — it would be because he wasn’t already in love with someone else. The same can't be said for the start of S3.

Think of it like this: if Rose AND Martha had been in that cellar — if Nine had taken both of them along with him in S1 — we’d eventually be looking at the most melodramatic love triangle ever, what with him living in close quarters with two brilliant, gorgeous, compassionate young women... But Doctor Who is plenty “soap opera” as is with just one woman in the TARDIS.

(I certainly wouldn’t object to reading that fic, though)

Now, regarding the unrequited elephant in the room…

His inability to be romantic with Martha isn’t because he thinks her lesser, nor is it for lack of compatibility. It isn't because Rose is any better than her. It certainly isn’t just because he’s Ten.

It’s really only for one reason, which can't be denied — and now I’m a broken record:

He is still in love with Rose.

(cut from a tenrosedaily gif)

Nine is Ten, and Ten is only such a mess in S3 because he’s just lost the love of his life. Martha merely got caught in the crosshairs of a volatile Time Lord in mourning, and yes — it sucks. Absolutely.

But it also feels dismissive to chalk Ten and Martha’s relationship up to little more than some sort of mindless dance of pining, jealousy, and toxicity.

Ten trusted Martha with his life over and over again — and hers, with him. He constantly praised her brilliance, happily carting her around time and space with no intention of letting her go. In the BBC’s extended universe of novels/comics/cartoons/etc, there’s so much depth to their relationship: love and trust and trauma and sacrifice. They had their own special bond as mates, their own complexities — so it’s a bummer that it's forever overshadowed by the other things.

I’m not denying that there was a lot of stuff that sucked/was for sure toxic about Ten's S3 behavior, but so many of the things I've seen him catching flak for can be directly attributed to being A Clueless Fucking Alien Idiot (not a trait that’s unique to Ten) — as well as his flat-out obliviousness to Martha’s feelings.

So yes, I agree: if Rose never existed, he would have treated Martha differently as Nine. He also would have treated her differently as Ten. Certainly.

But Rose did exist, and when discussing canon, it matters.

“He tells me that he absolutely, 100% loves Rose... He tells me how my daughter; my wonderful, beautiful, clever little girl saved him from himself before… And he says that’s all because of me! I made her into the Rose Tyler that saved him.”

-Jackie Tyler, Flight Into Hull!

Martha got the short end of the stick in S3. She came round at the wrong place and time, but that doesn't mean it was all bad. It doesn't mean the Doctor didn’t adore her. It certainly doesn't mean the time they spent together was wasted or worthless. They were brilliant!

Sure, he could be a twat, but let it be known that he was a twat with Rose as well, both as Nine and Ten. I’m sure Tentoo can be plenty infuriating, too. So while I'll defend Ten (and Tentoo) into the ground forever and ever and ever, I'll concede that he's fucked up.

The Doctor is a certified Pain In The Ass. It’s one of the things I love so much about this character — dynamics.

But never forget that Martha was goddamn tough as nails and overcame every bit of it. She moved on with her life, and the Doctor moved on with his. One can only pray that, when they inevitably drag her back onto the show (which feels inevitable if I'm honest), we see at once that she's been living her best life for all these years.

[jessmalia]

stiles and malia playlist: the only exception by paramore

and up until now, i had sworn to myself that i'm content with loneliness because none of it was ever worth the risk well, you are the only exception

[lacomandante]

Average sight during Wellington's mission debriefing

[alenkosx]

You are not yourself. All control is gone.

[missmungoe]

If you have a moment, you should go check out TricksterMelon on Twitter :) I hope you like it <3

I am speechless

[thelastwarriornun]

24 for avatrice?

Bang. Bang.

Beatrice’s ears ring with it in the absence of Ava’s shouting, or the shrill clicks and shrieks of the clicker. Beatrice’s breaths are a loud rasping thing, only  interrupted by the rhythmic wet tap, whether from the recently deceased clicker, or her own injuries Beatrice isn't sure. 

It comes back in fragments. Ava, patrol, the creek trails, all very routine. Nothing Beatrice would consider even a challenge. They’d found broken glass, and a fresh trail of blood leading them into a local minimart. Unusual certainly, but they were experienced with this. The building was old, rot having set in from all the moisture, another commonality. 

All very routine, until the floor had given way, wood shrieking and splitting as it collapsed, taking Ava with it. A gaping hole left in its stead. Beatrice remembers shouting, dropping onto her stomach with an outstretched hand as if she could undo the damage. She remembers sliding through the fractured wood, and dropping despite the height ignoring the ache in her knees. 

It wasn’t until Beatrice had landed, taking in the dark room around her, that she heard it. The telltale clicks and shrieks of a clicker. Beatrice's hand barely finds her holster before it’s there just two feet from Ava, Ava who’s groans come with tightly closed eyes, still reeling from the world falling out from under her.

It was too close. Too close to take a shot without putting Ava at risk. Too close to do anything except shield Ava from the fevered snap of jaws. It was an easy choice to make. It was the only choice. It doesn’t make it any less painful, Beatrice throwing herself into the shambling form, as teeth tear and rip through her shoulder, taking flesh and fabric indiscriminately.  Well this will be much harder to cover up with a chemical burn. 

Beatrice somehow manages to find her pistol, pressing the barrel against the clicker's head. Well head was probably overly generous, whatever once resembled a skull had given way now to the fungus blooming into something bright orange and ovular shaped. Beatrice fires twice, two shots in quick succession that spray blood and flecks of fungus against the ceiling. They fall together, and the clicker makes for a terrible cushion, smelling of rot, and full of varying lumps, manifestations of the infection. 

So Beatrice finds herself rolling off the infected, a groan on her lips as her back collides with cold tile, ears ringing. “Fuck.” It felt like an appropriate time for cursing.

“Beatrice.” Ava’s voice is faint, confused, likely still regaining her senses.  

Beatrice finds that pushing herself upright is a losing game, her right hand useless between the painful ache in her muscles, and the slick sticky puddle of blood now coating the tile. Right then, laying will have to do.  

“Beatrice!” More urgent now, and hands are on her. They’re gentle, as they pull Beatrice up, propping her against a nearby wall as Ava tries to fix something that can’t be mended. “This isn’t– it can't be– it’s from falling right? It didn’t bite you?” 

Beatrice laughs, a wet sound, ignoring the waves of pain that echo from her shoulder. Even she can see the distinct rows of teeth now memorialized in the cut of her shoulder. “Ava listen to me.” 

“Shut the fuck up Beatrice. Just give me a second to think.” Ava tears her flannel open, buttons scattering across the floor as Ava turns it into a bandage.

“That was one of my favorites.” Beatrice’s complaint is quiet, but Ava scowls all the same, tying the fabric in a tight knot against the open flesh, as Beatrice grits her teeth. 

“Now you want to be funny. You’ve barely said a word to me this entire patrol. But now you can’t seem to shut up.” Ava’s tone is harsh but her hands are gentle as they grip onto the front of Beatrice’s t-shirt. “That should slow the bleeding. Maybe I can buy us some time. They won’t come looking for a few hours–” 

“Ava stop.” Beatrice manages to catch Ava’s hands, hates the way they threaten to slip away between her own red stained fingers. Still Beatrice holds fast, and really this would be so much easier if the edges of her vision would stop blurring. “I have to tell you something, and I need you to promise me you won’t speak until I’ve finished.” 

“Beatrice there isn’t time.” Ava protests, and Beatrice can see it’s a losing battle, understands it really. Even now Beatrice finds herself caught between this moment, and a dream, a time when Beatrice’s curses were interrupted with inappropriate laughter, and the rising swell of grief. We’ll lose our minds together. 

It was so many years ago, and yet here Beatrice was. Once again watching love turn someone to insanity. Except this time Beatrice can stop it, can quell the rising tide, be the stormbreak she couldn’t before. 

Beatrice’s good hand slides along the curve of Ava’s arm, finding its way to the knape of her neck. It catches there, fingers tangling in the hairs that have escaped Ava’s ponytail. It seems silly now, their fight earlier, thinly veiled jealousy rearing its ugly head in both of them, Ava jealous over a girl Beatrice hadn’t spoken to in weeks. Beatrice, already steeling herself for the next time Ava makes up with Michael. They’ve been doing this dance for years, too afraid to speak plainly lest it ruin this. 

“Bea.” It escapes in a sob, Ava’s breath warm against Beatrice’s cheek. 

Fingers press against the knape of Ava’s neck, and Beatrice closes her eyes, unwilling to see the rejection she might find, or even worse, a reflection of herself all those years ago. Ava’s lips are soft, gentle, as if Ava’s worried she might break her. But Beatrice has spent years damming her own want and desire, and the soft press of Ava’s lips is enough to send the whole of it crashing down. Beatrice’s fingers are no longer gentle, as she surges forward, as much as the press of Ava’s body will allow, nipping at Ava’s bottom lip. 

Beatrice swallows a gasp against her lips, as Ava’s palms press flat against her chest, as if torn between returning the kiss, or pushing her away. Beatrice retreats, opening her eyes, expecting to find rejection. Instead Ava is afire, eyes wide, stuck somewhere between desire and grief, the two twisting together until Beatrice can hardly read the difference. Beatrice doesn’t make it far, only softens the press of her fingers against Ava’s neck when the tension of indecision seems to snap, and it’s Ava this time who closes the gap, molding their lips together. 

Beatrice's head bumps painfully against the wall, but she’d do it a hundred more times to keep Ava’s lips against her own. Ava’s hands cup along each side of her face, thumbs brushing along her jaw. And fuck immunity, fuck dying, because Beatrice is sure that there’s nothing she wants more than to fade into oblivion like this, with the press of Ava’s lips against her own, and the thud of her own heartbeat filling her ears. 

Ava’s hand slips down along her neck, and Beatrice hisses from between clenched teeth at the sharp wave of pain that rolls through her. But Beatrice doesn’t want to lose this, the starstruck look in Ava’s eyes, or the clench of her hands in Beatrice’s tattered shirt. So Beatrice smirks,” if I’d have known that would shut you up I would’ve tried that years ago.” 

“You should’ve.” Ava doesn't miss a beat. 

“Who’s being funny now?” Beatrice pauses sucking in a breath. The weight of years of secrecy, of hiding was a tough vow to break. Especially when so many people had paid the cost to keep it so. 

“I don’t want you to die.” Ava’s voice is soft, tears glistening even in the dim light of the basement, and Beatrice hears it again, an echo of the past, I cannot watch you die. We’ll go together then. 

“I’m not going to turn Ava.” Beatrice flips her arm displaying the fully healed tattoo on her arm, biting back a laugh when Ava scowls. 

“Really? You want to show off your stupid tattoo now?” 

“Not the tattoo, the burn. I’m immune, Ava.” It falls flat, and Beatrice presses a hand to Ava’s cheek forcing her to look at her before she can withdraw much. “I’m serious Ava. The only people who know are Mary, Shannon, and Suzanne. I was bit back in the QZ, that’s how I met Shannon and Mary. It was a long time ago, they were worried how people might react so that’s how I got the chemical burn. I’m going to be fine.” 

It’s not much, a flicker of something, hope, in the softening lines of Ava’s face. “Swear to me.” 

Beatrice doesn’t look away, simply brushes her thumb across the remaining trail of moisture along Ava’s cheek. “I swear. Assuming we make it out of this, I’ll be fine.” 

“Okay then.” Ava glances around, frowning slightly as she straightens up, as if just now recognizing the gravity of the situation. Ava extends an arm to Beatrice, who takes it with a grimace allowing herself to be pulled upright. “Don’t think bleeding out will stop you from having to talk about that kiss.” 

Beatrice laughs, ignoring the way the world seems to tilt beneath her as they look for an exit. Because of course Ava would take this in stride, and god Beatrice would do it again, throw herself into the jaws of a monster if it meant spending just another day with her. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[grace-nakimura]

Had you said the word, I would've left the Jedi Order.

[rindemption]

The definition of heart eyes

[dylanconrique]

THE LATEST CHENFORD CLIP I'M CRYING 😭😭😭😭😭

LUCY SETTING UP FOR DATE NIGHT MAKING DINNER AND LIGHTING CANDLES AND "IS THAT PRESENT FOR ME????" WHEN TIM CAME HOME AND HER ADORABLLE LITTLE "THANK YOOOU." 😚💕💕

ohhhh, but the disappointment in her face when tim got called in, and the confused, hurt look on her face as he suddenly up and left her. gosh, and the way her breath shook like, "i don't know" when tamara asked what was wrong. i just know my girl thinks whatever happened is her fault, or ties to her somehow. 🥺💔

[queen-scribbles]

My home, my heart, thank God you are Someone who loves me

For my beloved @haledamage! 💕💕 I give you a soft Etain/Vikkari moment thanks to @sunshinemage bc I saw the one YCH pose and my brain immediately went to our babies.

[twelverriver]

Eleven River for the ask game!

omg yess!!! thank you for indulging me 🫶🏻

a song that i always connected to eleven & river is wildest dreams by taylor swift!

the whole part about "i can see the end as it begins" & "nothing lasts forever" and the parts about promise you remember me are so elevenriver to me because it's tragic but it's still one lover asking the other to remember their love and remember them just the way they are, in one of their best moments and i think that's very fitting! also obviously, this always reminds me of the name of the doctor:

SAY YOU'LL SEE ME AGAIN, IF IT'S JUST IN YOUR WILDEST DREAMS !!

also two other songs i also think are elevenriver coded are shrike by hozier and the night we met by lord huron!

[seeinganewlight]

NACE PLAYLIST

maroon ⇾ taylor swift

[ghostoffuturespast]

Very, very slowly chipping away at this chapter. Haven't had as much time to write as of late because of Real World ™️. So have some mid-shenanigan fluff for the wait:

Gravity dragged her down and V was too late to stop the dizzying fall back into reality, but the crash never came. Someone solid held her up.

Hands were suddenly on her face, one warm and one cool, tracing over her features. Over her. “V?”

She looked up, brows furrowed as she tried to find her bearings. A brown eye moored her. “River?” 

“Thank the ancestors you’re back.” He lifted her up into a swift kiss and a smothering hug, her feet dangling off the floor as she was picked up around the waist. “You okay?”

V’s vision blurred as River buried his face in the crook of her neck. In the moment, it didn't matter where they were; her world blanketed in safe and whole and sound. She nuzzled into the shearling of his collar, into the scent of worn sweat infused leather and the heated incense of desert earth. The weight of his touch squeezed her back together piece by piece. Reaching around him to return the embrace, her fingers threaded on the fabric of his coat to hold him and stitch him back together too.

Not gonna tag anyone this round because I've dropped all my beans and have to pick them up off the floor, but feel free to tag me and share what you all are cooking!

[ishipthis]

I didn't see this coming - Chapter 6.

iDidn't see this coming (34547 words) by Ishipthis Chapters: 6/7 Fandom: iCarly Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Freddie Benson/Carly Shay Characters: Freddie Benson, Carly Shay, Harper Raines (iCarly), Spencer Shay, Millicent Mitchell, Marissa Benson, Lewbert Sline Additional Tags: Fluff, Drunken Confessions, Love Confessions, Phone Sex, Friends to Lovers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Denial of Feelings, Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 1 of iDidn't see this coming Summary: An accidental text message sent while drunk leads to a situation Carly never saw coming. Or; Carly sends Freddie a Creddie Fan fic, and everything blows up.

[illumiera]

thinking about her... FDB!Elentari...

she'd have to be one of the very first bretons, or a snow elf (since she does have distant snow elf ancestry on her mother's side, inheriting the pale hair, skin, and eyelashes, but none of the tolerance for the cold, poor thing).

she's a wolf priestess—worshipper of Mara the Wolf-Mother—and both this and her natural compassion would lead her to begin rebelling against the dragon cult. of course, when the Dragon War kicked off and mortals brought the first dragon down, she'd be as surprised as anyone when she absorbed the soul. she'd be quickly positioned as a figurehead of the rebellion, and much like her LDB self, she'd see it as her duty: save everyone, however she can.

but what if she accepted the Nord Heroes' pleas for help and was there that day atop the Throat of the World?

what if, when all seemed lost, after she determinedly refused to let Gormlaith Golden-Hilt die of her injuries, she sacrificed herself to enter the Time Wound with Alduin? knowing that she'd be leaving her world and her people behind, not knowing when—if ever—she'd return?

and what if she emerged four thousand years later in that same spot, exactly as the wheel turned on the Last Dragonborn... a golden-haired farmer's son turned mage and musician, who is given the name "Miraak" in another life, another universe?