Podrick jumped in place and squeaked, swatting away your hands. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
You laughed, watching his cheeks flush red as he realized who’d surprised him with mischievous fingers on his waist. “Oh, I didn’t mean to frighten you, Pod, you’re just so easy to tease!”
Straightening his tunic, he scowled at you, still clearly embarrassed. “I wasn’t scared, only surprised.”
“You shrieked like a banshee, Pod. You were scared.”
“Was not.”
“Was too.”
The childish argument continued until Tyrion Lannister leaned out in the hall, book under his arm, giving you both a playful glare. “If you’re going to advance whatever romance it is you’re pursuing, can you move it out to the balcony? I’m trying to read in here.”
Sheepishly, you both followed his suggestion, the echoes of your conversation carrying down the hall, small grins on both your faces.
Missandei had always respected your quiet strength. You weren’t a fighter by any means, but you stood up for your ideas and opinions, even when more unsavory characters would bully you into silence. The idea of any woman, especially a former slave, voicing her opinion was threatening to them, and though Khaleesi had repeatedly encouraged you to raise your voice, you were often found in the back of the room, listening and speaking only when asked.
It was a habit she was trying to free you of.
“You’re not a slave anymore, Y/N. You can say whatever you want to. You’re intelligent and wise,” she caressed your cheek, nudging you into meeting her eyes. “Speak your mind.”
“I love you.” You responded, heart soaring at a million miles a minute, cheeks flushed with the warmth of young love. “Can I say that?”
Missandei pulled you quickly into a soft and extended kiss, her thumbs tracing circles on your jaw. “Especially that.”
Margaery was lounging across the foot of your bed, her hand in yours as she listened to your tale of romance, the way she always had. She knew you were a little boy crazy, and that the knights at court were a common target of your affection, but this one in particular had been a crush of yours for the past few weeks.
“And he was looking into my eyes and told me how pretty he thought I was, and I-” Your lip quivered a little, and you pulled your blanket tighter around your shoulders. “So, I kissed him.”
Margaery was sympathetic to your lovers, knowing that most times your interest in these boys was fleeting at best, and that once you’d kissed them, you seldom looked back, for fear of your father or your brother finding out. “Are you going to see him again?”
You met her eyes, and with a small smile, you replied: “I am. Tonight. We’re meeting in the garden.”
She smiled in response. “Alright. What sort of distraction is needed for your caper?”
With Margaery’s help, you believed the rest of the family would hardly notice you missing.
The Unsullied were notoriously stoic, even in the face of great adversity. You’d never seen one cry out in pain, even with blades piercing their flesh, in the heat of battle, they remained composed.
So, as Grey Worm entered your chambers early this morning, you were surprised to seem him bruised and battered, like he’d been in a fist fight only moments ago. “You look like you’ve been through hell.” You remarked, dampening a rag and beginning to clean his face. “Did you at least win the fight?”
“I did.” He replied, his eyes on you, admiring the precise way you tended to his wounds.
“I hope it was worth the bruises.” You teased, with a tiny grin, gently prodding his busted lip.
“It was.” Even in the aftermath, fighting that Dothraki man for disrespecting you would always be the right decision, even if you’d never know it.
{As I was sifting through the mountain of requests that remain, I realized I’d hit a string of Robbs, so apologies if my blog seems a little Robb-centric as I finish up some older requests. The sequel to this has been long requested, so here it is!}
The indifference between the King and Queen of the North was palatable, and uncomfortable for all other parties involved in their extended lover’s spat. He treated you as a token of your father’s loyalty, one that even his tender heart exploited. You publicly questioned his decisions and ability as a leader, which was equally as damaging to his reputation.
The most recent example of this proverbial winter was a meeting of banner-men, during which, you were asked to leave, a first since your union months ago.
You lifted a brow and glanced briefly towards the men watching your reaction, including your father, and back to Robb. “What are you doing?”
He barely looked up from his maps, his posture stiff and unflinching. “I asked you to leave, Y/N. You have no business in our military proceedings.”
@legendsaresooftenwarnings requested “Or a Targaryen!reader x Dany Targaryen reader after khal drogo dies and they comfort each other?”
Incest warning!
{Sorry this is a bit short! It’s been sitting in my drafts for a few months, and I tried to make it longer, but found I couldn’t do much without losing the heart of the story. Hope you enjoy! <3}
She caressed her sister’s cheek fondly, tracing the prominence of her cheekbone with her slender thumb. “Are you ready?”
Daenerys thought for a minute, before nodding softly.
“You’re so strong.” It was a phrase she often repeated, spoken with revere and affection she still did not understand. Y/N had known for years that when Danaerys began to bleed, Viserys would find her a suitor. But the dust had barely settled over his grave when another loss struck them, the loss of Daenerys’ husband: Khal Drogo. Though Y/N had never much cared for the savage horse-lord, she cared for her sister and supported her while she grieved.
Summary: You’re part of the Ares III crew, on sol 6 you’re left behind on Mars with Mark. How will the both of you survive and will Beck ever realise your feelings for him.
There was a pain in your chest and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, the pain forced you away from the darkness and you peeled open your eyes slowly to see where you were. Above you you could see the stars then red then stars again. As you regained your senses you realised it was the MAV spinning around, the motion made you feel sick and dizzy.
“Oh great I’ll wave at you guys as I go by,” you heard a voice say, Mark’s you realised. It sounded like you were under water but very slowly you regained your hearing too.
“Mark?”
“Y/N?” Mark tried to turn his head to look at you.
“Y/N do you copy?” this time it was Lewis.
“Yes, I copy,” you said, your voice hoarse. “What’s this about us waving?” you asked.
“The Hermes is too far from the MAV to catch you,” you heard Beck.
“Beck?” you breathed, your emotions began to overwhelm you. It had been over a year and a half since you had heard his voice and it still made your spine shiver, it reminded you of sol 6 when you had been collecting samples.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
You bit your lip to stop from crying and closed your eyes for a moment with a small smile. Your eyes snapped open, “Wait, how far off?”
“68 kilometers.”
“Holy shit,” you breathed, so maybe this wasn’t a happy ever after after all.
“Commander Lewis,” Mark piped up, “We could find something sharp in here to puncture a hole in our suits and use the escaping air as a propulsion up to the Hermes.”
While that thought terrified you, you knew it would be better than watching the Hermes fly by. “I’m up for that,” you agreed.
“No,” Lewis shot down the idea, “You would have virtually no control over where you go and you would be eye balling it while travelling at high speed. I’m not taking that risk.”
You huffed a little as you tried to think of a way to have a small intercept range and velocity, unfortunately you had never really been good at science except for studying rocks because that didn’t really involve as much maths as chemistry and other ‘real sciences’.
That was when Lewis came up with the plan to blow up the Hermes. Well, part of the Hermes, and use that as a way to decelerate. “Are you guys blowing stuff up without me?” Mark asked and a moment later you saw him floating above you.
“Mark, what are you doing. Put your belt back on,” you scolded him, gripping more tightly at your own belt to make sure it was secure.
Mark continued on as if he hadn’t heard you, “You guys I don’t know, we’re pretty selfish. We want all the memorials to be about us, just us.”
“Yeah, we’re cooler than you guys anyway,” you agreed with Mark, you didn’t want the entire crew to blow themselves up just to try and save the two of you. They were more important, Martinez and Vogel had kids and wives, Lewis was married, Beck and Johanssen had glowing futures ahead of them. You and Mark didn’t have anyone of particular importance back home and it was better just the two of you than the whole team.
Still, Lewis didn’t listen. You listened to the crew intently as they worked out how to build a bomb, and Beck would be jumping around in space outside the Hermes. This, of course, terrified you. If Beck wasn’t inside the Hermes then anything could happen, if he accidently let go he would just float away and no one would be able to help.
“Beck I swear to God, if you let go of the Hermes I’m going to kill you,” you said sternly through the comms.
You heard Beck chuckle, “Noted.”
“I mean it,” you said quietly, “Be careful.” It didn’t ease the worry in your gut that something would go wrong so you decided to focus on the voices of the rest of the crew whilst they made a bomb to set off in one of the airlocks.
—
Their plan worked and the intercept velocity was reduced, whilst they had been making the bomb Martinez had accelerated the Hermes to close the intercept range. Unfortunately, you and Mark would still be 32 meters too far.
It was time to go out and get you, Beck was strapped into the chair and connected to the tether. “Visual on the MAV,” he reported. It was the moment of truth, he pushed off from the Hermes and floated out to you.
He used to controls to steer in the direction of you when suddenly he was jolted as the tether reached it’s maximum length. He tried to go further but couldn’t, “They’re still too far,” his voice wavered.
—
You gulped when you heard that, you unbuckled your belt and floated up to the gap in the ship next to Mark, you gripped the MAV tightly so that you wouldn’t float off. You could see Beck not that far from you.
“I’m gonna cut the tether,” Beck said determined.
“No,” you countered quickly, “We’ll come to you.” You swallowed your fear down and faced Mark, “Let’s be Iron Man.”
Mark locked eyes with you for a second then nodded, he got a pair of pliers ready to puncture his suit. “We’ll use the force from each other to try and stay straight,” he said.
You nodded, “Let’s do this.” Mark pierced his suit first and flew back at the sudden release in atmosphere, he had let go of the pliers which were now floating next to you. With a deep breath you punctured your own suit, sending you flying back and crashing into Mark.
With a little bit of difficulty you managed to press your fingers down over your palm to seal the breach. You and Mark pushed up to the top of the MAV and gripped tightly to each other, you looked at each other once more then released your fingers.
Quicker than you had thought you and Mark flew through space, admittedly it was a lot harder to control than you thought but you soon got the hang of it. When Mark released his fingers so did you to counteract the pressure, in doing so you were able to go in the right direction but you were still all over the place.
You were close now, Beck was only a few meters away. You both reached out a hand, they just barely touched then you were flying past him. Luckily Mark was able to grab a hold of the red tether, not so luckily- you didn’t.
You kept going and you panicked, flailing around a little. For once your complete incoordination worked in your favour. You had accidently released your fingers from the seal which pushed you towards them and the tether tangled around your leg.
Letting out a small grunt as the tether tightened uncomfortably around your leg you curled up on yourself to grab a hold of it with your hands. With your hand securely around the tether you wrapped it around your arms and held on tighter than you ever had in your life.
At the end of the rope Mark and Chris had begun spinning and tangling in rope, they were headed straight towards you. As they spun closer and closer you braced yourself, with one more spin Chris in the chair crashed into and winded you.
Beck reached out an arm and gripped you tightly and pulled you close to him. A few moments later Mark was close enough for him to grab as well. “Hey handsome,” Mark laughed when he saw Beck and their helmets clunked together.
Seeing Chris again after a solid year and a half was indescribable, your heart soared and all those feeling you had came back and hit you full force. Vogel was reeling you back in and the rest of the team were on the other side of the airlock waiting for you.
You were back on the Hermes, this was real and you weren’t going to die on Mars. Your ribs killed and so did everything else in your body but you were too happy to care right now. The airlock door closed and everyone came rushing in to see you. You and Mark took off your helmets, sure you smelled bad but nobody could care at that moment.
In the commotion of hugs and tears you didn’t even really get to see Beck, he was there but he hung back. Thing was, during the rescue Beck had come to the realisation that he never wanted any harm to come to you, that he couldn’t live without you. When he had missed you it was the most scared he had ever been, it was out there that he realised that he loved you as more than just his best friend. Now he was terrified that you wouldn’t return his feelings.
Though he had to see you eventually, he was the flight surgeon and he needed to do medical checks on you and Mark fairly soon to see just how bad the damage was. Eventually the team backed off and he was able to intervene, he told you and Mark to go limp so he could pull you through to the med bay.
Beck was being distant which sparked an unpleasant feeling within you, had he realised over the past year and a half that he didn’t like you all that much? Did he somehow figure out that you had a crush on him and was now being distant because he didn’t know how to let you down easy?
You lay down on the med bay, the one that you usually sat on whilst you were waiting for Beck to go to dinner. Mark was on the other side of the room and he was being examined first, Chris bandaged his ribs and documented how malnourished he was. You didn’t really pay attention to it, you faced the side and looked out the window as you passed round Mars and watched it slowly disappear further out of sight.
Mark went out for a shower and Chris came over to you, “Hey Beckster,” you smiled up at him weakly.
Beck smiled down at you, “I told you not to call me that,” he laughed.
“Stop being so bossy,” you retorted, he helped you sit up and you winced as it jostled your broken ribs.
You had to take off your space suit, Chris helped you strip down to just your underwear. It wasn’t as if you were embarrassed at being half naked in front of him, he had done medical inspections on you before, what embarrassed you was the sight of your body so withered and dirty. Your ribs stuck out prominently and you could see bruising all over where your ribs and collarbone had cracked.
Chris carefully wrapped your chest up and checked out the old wound on your leg, he gave you a few pills to swallow which you did before he could even give you water. You flicked your eyes up to meet his blue ones staring intently at you.
Then something happened that you never expected to. Beck surged forward and planted a kiss on your lips, your eyes went wide and for a moment you didn’t even process what was going on, then you kissed him back.
Beck pulled back after a moment, “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking at the ground.
“What for?” you asked boldly, “For leaving me on Mars or kissing me?”
He stumbled over his words a little, “Both,” he settled on.
You shook your head a little, “Don’t be,” you whispered and pulled him back to you to kiss him. You felt him smile against your lips, he stepped forward and wound his arms delicately around your waist and you raised your arms to tangle your fingers in his hair.
After a minute you pulled back for air and you rested your foreheads against each other. “Took you long enough,” you breathed, “I’ve wanted you to do that for years.” Beck laughed softly and kissed you again.
THE END
***
A/N- Thanks to everyone who sent me get well messages I love you all loads. So here we are, the final part. Have you all enjoyed it? Let me know! Requests are open
They find a book written in Latin… one guy doesn’t take Latin and doesn’t want to mess up the pronunciation. The girl is studying Mandarin. Another guy recommends sticking it into Google Translate but that’s likely to land them with gibberish. They leave it alone.
The car won’t start. They call an Uber.
The vampire captures the girl and insists that she wears the gown to dinner. The gown is actually hella cute. Only problem is it’s not in her size. Oh, it only comes in 2’s and 4’s? Sorry, vamp, you want me in that dress you contact the goddamn company and tell them to get their shit together.
“How did you possibly know that? It saved our lives!” “I’ve got two degrees and I spend way too much time on Wikipedia.”
They encounter a spirit that gains power the more people believe in it. One girl makes a vine and uploads with, “fakest ghost ever!!! Right??” Twenty minutes later the spirit is destroyed.
The circus is in town tonight. Except she’s lived her whole life here and the circus has never come before… it’s also in a pretty sketchy part of town, not somewhere you’d want to walk alone at night. She goes to a movie instead.
“You’d need an ARMY to fight this evil!” “Okay. I’ve got 20,000 followers, lets see how many can make it.”
The Evil Whispery Voice of Doom tells the jock that it’s going to kill his pretty blonde girlfriend. The jock gets offended because, excuse me, Cindy and I are just friends. However, Marty over there is my boyfriend and I’m not saying you should kill him, just stop making assumptions yeah?
“This spirit tried to convince me it was Jerry when it texted but its texting style is COMPLETELY DIFFERENT so yeah that didn’t work.”
We could have easily gotten lost and ended up at some creepy cabin in the woods, but luckily we all had functioning GPSs. Beach party, we’ve arrived!
“We have to find a way to destroy it! We—what are you doing?” “Looking up ‘exorcising demons’ on Google. Oh look, first hit.”
The child she bares will be the devil’s spawn. Good thing she doesn’t want kids. Or if she changes her mind she can always adopt.
“How can we possibly outwit this serial killer…” “… There’s gotta be an app for that. Lemme look.”
Only the virgin will survive… Turns out they’re all virgins. One is asexual. One wants to wait until marriage. Two just haven’t found the right person yet. One is meh about sex. So we all survive, yeah?
The girl does not fall. She was on varsity track.
“Quick! We need someplace to hide the artifact. And then decoys to confuse the beast! What have we got?” “… I’ve got a hundred plastic bags stuffed into another plastic bag.” “PERFECT.”
i would pay to read a book of a collection of modern horror stories
They’re trapped in a haunted cabin one of them inherited from a Weird UncleTM. Mysterious figures, things going flying, screams and drumbeats and chanting, blood pouring down the walls, the whole bit. They pull out the Ouija Board.
“BRO, WHAT IS YOUR DEAL?”
S…A…C…R…E…D…L…A…N…D
“Oh.”
“Oh geez. Oh no. This is Native American land. Oh goodness I am SO sorry.”
“Um so, like I inherited this property and a couple acres, can I like…donate it?”
W…H…A…T
“Yeah man like, what tribe are you? I don’t want to live here, this cabin is grody and Uncle Tim was a fuckin’ weirdo. It’s your guys’ land, just like, what tribe?”
C..H…U…M…A…S…H
“Cool. Uh, I guess we’ll…call them…in the morning?”
T…H…A…N…K…Y…O…U GOODBYE
“Oh. Well fuck, like, that was easy.”
I was all set to dislike this when I saw the title, thinking it was gonna be another bashing of my generation post… then boom! Talk about saving the day!
museum curator, watching steve waltz into the smithsonian, the memory of having the stolen cap america authentic howling commando era uniform returned dirty and ridden with bullet holes still fresh in their mind: hide the VALUABLES
steve, reaching over the rope to poke at something on display: it’s my goddamn stuff???
I’M SAYIN’, every single level of management at the Smithsonian must have had an extensively well-documented migraine after dealing with the colossal shitshow raised by such thrilling items as “sock (woolen)” pulled from the pack of one “Rogers, Steve G., 1918 – 1945 lol whoops he’s back″
like i said in my initial reblog… all the people building stories out of this make me laugh with delight, but smithsonian & dc museum people adding their tags give me LIFE
… also steven grant rogers would be KIND and COURTEOUS to the front-line museum staff and not ask them stupid questions and you will pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands thankyouverymuch
oh steven grant rogers is KIND and POLITE and CONSIDERATE to front-line museum staff, he will politely move himself to the side so he doesn’t cause traffic issues if he gets recognized and a couple kids want pictures, he apologizes to security for causing a scene (he didn’t mean to! he thought his baseball cap disguise would work, bless him). he returns his maps (sweet and so unnecessary but then one of the volunteers can take a map captain america used and will probably sign for them back to their grandkids so that’s nice). the docents LOVE him; he’s both a Nice Young Man and also from Back in Their Day.
the collections and conservation staff however have sworn a blood oath of pure vengeance against him and nothing he ever does will change their minds. the textile conservator (we’ll call her lorraine) who had to restore the old captain america suit spent THREE YEARS OF HER LIFE on that stupid thing and it’s still too unstable to ever exhibit again. lorraine went through FIVE INTERNS, two of whom CRIED ON HER. she had to spend a fourth year making a replica because everyone was writing their representatives that the captain america suit wasn’t on display and they MADE HER DO IT.
like if steve thought any debrief in wwii he ever had sucked lol try lorraine, who has given up trying to catalogue what the fuck happened to that piece of shit suit and finally tracked down his cell phone number after six months of this hell project out of sheer bloody mindness and desperation and tricks him into her office through a series of absolute goddamn lies about idk public programming or some shit that steve might actually care about and then corners him and makes him give her a play by play of what, exactly, the fuck he did to that suit.
cuz, okay, listen. blah blah save the world blah blah, but steven grant rogers* stole a priceless museum artifact, bled on it, set it on fire, dropped it into the potomac, dragged it (WHILE WET) through river mud and god knows how many plants and bugs and microbes, got melting plastic and metal and shrapnel and other people’s body juices and skin and hair embedded in it–the only reason he lives is because he can give the full and accurate account of what the fuck he did to it and answer questions of how the fuck it can be slightly, slightly unfucked. not saved! not made to look like it was! certainly not able to be put on a mannequin and exhibited again! but like she can get some more of the mud and that chunk of charred plastic out maybe. otherwise, lorraine would have murdered that dumb bitch in a fit of justifiable rage, and no amount of charming “sorry ma’am”s would fucking save him.
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 