#rated g Tumblr posts

  • merlinfic
    20.05.2022 - 17 hours ago


    Author: Karmitara

    Rating: G

    Setting: Canon AU

    Word Count: 14,508


    The Royal pair had weird expressions on their faces as they looked at him, almost pained as they held their breaths.
    "What's your name?" The King asked, descending the steps, "Why are you here?"
    "My name's Gabriel," His hands clasped to his sides as he bowed deeply, "But please, Your Majesty! You have to help my father! He's hurt in the woods and made me come alone because he was too weak! He said you're the only ones I can trust to help! Please, he might die! You have to save him!"
    The Queen, who was next to her husband, stepped closer to him and knelt down, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Who's your father, sweetie?"
    He glanced at her, standing up straight as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out his dad's old red neckerchief. The whole room gasped at the sight of it. "He said this would prove I'm telling the truth, that his name is Merlin."

    Reader’s Comments: Obsessed with Merlin as a dad fic. I have probably read this atleast 15 times by now. Love it.

    Thanks to @emrysmalfoy for sending in this fic!

    #other: readers recs #merlin fic rec #recs: other pairings #pairings: gen fic #rating: g#canonau#setting: camelot#merlin: parent#arthur: parent #theme: magic reveal #merlin: hurt#~#mod danielle
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  • moviehealthcommunity
    20.05.2022 - 1 day ago

    Peter Pan (1953)

    This is a Movie Health Community evaluation. It is intended to inform people of potential health hazards in movies and does not reflect the quality of the film itself. The information presented here has not been reviewed by any medical professionals.

    Peter Pan has a severe but very brief strobe effect as an explosion happens. There is a frequent effect of sparkling glitter, which may create a very mild strobe effect.

    A few sequences involve flight at extreme heights.

    Flashing Lights: 4/10. Motion Sickness: 2/10.

    TRIGGER WARNING: This film contains extensive caricatures about Native Americans, including slurs.

    Image ID: A theatrical poster for Peter Pan (1953)

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  • lamahnel
    20.05.2022 - 1 day ago

    Wandering mercenaries, YHK style.

    #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #yoohankim#fanart#Rating: G
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  • jlalafics
    20.05.2022 - 1 day ago

    Throwback Thursday: "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner"

    "Anna stands by the window looking out. She is dressed in a dark green dress and her hair is pinned up. She is wearing a pearl clip that I gave her long ago as an anniversary present.

    I approach her but she doesn’t look at me. She only stares outside. At her side, I look to see what she is staring at.

    It is Katniss and Peeta. My son cradles Katniss’s face in his hands as they kiss passionately under the light of the moon. Her body is pressed closely against his and her hand rests lightly on Peeta’s lower back.

    I don’t see my son anymore. I see a man in love with a woman."

    -- Part One of "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner"

    Been trying to spotlight some of my older stories and this is one of my favorites because we get a Mrs. Mellark that's actually nicer than canon.

    #Guess Who's Coming to Dinner #Everlark#Everlark Fanfiction#Rated G #Mr. Mellark POV #No Hunger Games story
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  • blooodwords
    19.05.2022 - 1 day ago

    I don't want to give u a backlog of requests but if u ever feel like it, I love soft Daisy (aos) and I can never find fics for her. also I feel like you'd be really good at writing her :)

    love languages ; physical touch.

    a/n: so i got into a mood and will now be writing the five love languages of daisy johnson, even if it takes me nine years. this one is ... angsty fluff? idk i am no longer capable of accurately gauging levels of angst. but it's soft. and pls never apologize for sending requests! sometimes they're the only thing that can get me writing.

    daisy johnson x reader ; the first love language.

    warnings: none.

    i might be taking requests, but no promises. either way ... read this before making one.

    You and Daisy have never been good at talking. There’s too much to say that could turn everything sour (because, on the other hand, you’re fantastic at fighting) and neither of you want to run the risk of ruining the little bit of good you have left in the world.

    Relying on body language wouldn’t work if Daisy didn’t say a whole lot more with every move she makes than she does with her mouth. And that’s not to say she doesn’t talk—she does, a lot, when she’s in the mood—but she speaks body language better than anyone else you’ve ever met.

    And you? You’re fluent enough in Daisy Johnson to list it as a skill on your resume. 

    When you come home with glassy eyes and your shoulders sagging, Daisy abandons her research and makes room on her bed. You won’t go to your own side of the room, not when you’re upset. Your side of the room is where everything you're hoping to avoid is lying in wait.

    You’ve been sharing a room for eighteen months now. It would be weird if she didn’t know your patterns by now.

    “Long day?” she asks.

    “Long life,” you say with a huff and throw yourself across her bed. (Your feet dangle off the edge. You’re in Chucks and you hate laces after long days. And Daisy doesn’t like shoes on the bed.)

    I can fix that, is what you hear when warm hands inch beneath your shoulders and ease you up. Fingertips kiss collarbones as the jacket is stripped from your shoulders and dropped onto the concrete floor. Heat coats your throat as she works her fingers through your hair and shakes it out, rubbing your scalp in soothing little circles. Drop all your problems and I’ll pick them up for you, you hear somewhere between then and when Daisy hunches over to do away with the sneakers for you.

    You curl up at her side and sigh. “I’m giving Coulson my two weeks,” you mumble, squishing your cheek against her chest.

    “No, actually.” She picks up your hand, flashes the faintest smirk, and kisses your knuckles. “You’re not.”

    No, you think, I’m not.

    And then you watch: Daisy tracing the lines on your palm, the pale veins in your wrist, the bump of bone down below your little finger where hand eases into wrist. The scar on your forearm from when you were thirteen and broke a crystal dish belonging to your mother, tried to clean up the pieces yourself from behind a mask of tears, and wound up in the emergency room with eighteen stitches.

    The feeling comes next.

    You feel the way she says I’m here with a chaste, lingering kiss to your temple; the you don’t have to do this alone when she clutches you to her with a ferocity that from anyone else would make you flinch away; the we’re safest together when she tips her head back and bares her throat before tucking her chin over the crown of your head; and the I’ll take care of you in the steady hand that lingers at the small of your back; the I am yours when she makes the exact amount of space you need to curl into her that much more. The I love you in her bated breath as her chest rises and stalls, then falls.

    It all means something.

    You know it does.

    Language like that from a woman whose life depends on the amount of control she has over her own body has to mean something.

    And to you? It means everything. 

    You don’t remember falling asleep, and you don’t think you’re quite ready to be awake, but when you squirm to get comfy again and remember exactly where you are—nestled into Daisy, legs intertwined, her hand lost in your hair and cradling your head to her chest while she snores softly with a case file open and abandoned on her lap—you reckon there are worse worlds to be awake in.

    #daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson imagine #daisy johnson imagines #agents of shield imagine #agents of shield imagines #aos imagine #daisy johson fanfiction #marvel imagine#marvel imagines#marvel fanfiction#rated: g#daisy
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  • maneskin-fic-archive
    19.05.2022 - 1 day ago

    Scrambled Eggs and Lego Cars

    Author: i_finally_made_an_account Rating: G Pairings: None Genre: Fluff AUs: N/A Content warnings: None Summary: Nobody exactly knows why but every time Thomas gets too stressed or anxious or exhausted he goes little. It's a coping mechanism, Damiano supposes, maybe Thomas' body's way of demanding the break it needs. It's a little odd, but at this time it's really nothing they can't handle. Honestly, Damiano and Ethan expected Thomas to go little as soon as they were back in their rented house after the Zach Sang interview, because that was one of the more stressful hours in the past few weeks, especially without Vic there and with Ethan's cold still making it difficult to speak for longer periods of time. The pressure on Damiano and Thomas was fucking immense and when they first started you could almost feel the nervous energy radiating off Thomas.


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  • chromatic-lamina
    19.05.2022 - 2 days ago

    Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tony Tony Chopper & Trafalgar D. Water Law Characters: Tony Tony Chopper, Trafalgar D. Water Law Additional Tags: Bonding, Fluff, very slight angst but it's supposed to be a happy fic i promise, doctor pals, just let them be friends Summary:

    What was meant as a lighthearted tease brought Law head-on with Chopper's concerns over his growth as a doctor. Well... it wouldn't do for someone so young to lose confidence in their skills; especially not someone as intelligent as the Straw Hat doctor.

    On their way to Dressrosa, Law's interactions with Chopper give way to a budding friendship he didn't think was possible.

    #one piece#trafalgar law #tony tony chopper #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #not my writing #sweet#about 2k#g-rated#op fanfic#opfanfic
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  • merlinbingo
    18.05.2022 - 2 days ago

    On Bending, Breaking, and Mending by queerofthedagger Ship: Merlin/Arthur Main Characters: Merlin, Arthur Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Post-Magic Reveal, Tired Merlin, Worried Arthur, Allusions to Burnout, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary: Merlin is Court Sorcerer, Albion's Golden Age is right on their doorstep, and still, things between them are anything but alright. Sometimes, the most obvious answer is the one most difficult one to see.

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  • merlinbingo
    18.05.2022 - 2 days ago

    Not the Brass by Skydragon05 Ship: No ships/gen Main Characters: George Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Golden Age, Mental health, Neurodiversity, Panic Attacks, George is not okay Summary: It’s the Golden Age and magic is legal — but for George, nothing is the same. Everything is different. Everything is not okay.

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  • ofmdficlibrary
    17.05.2022 - 3 days ago

    Chapters: 1/1 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Oluwande Boodhari/Jim Jimenez Characters: Oluwande Boodhari, Jim Jimenez Additional Tags: First Dates, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Oluwande is so nervous, Jim loves him tho Series: Part 12 of Drabbles Summary: “Oh, fuck, this is stupid.” Oluwande’s sure he’s going to be sick.

    “Estúpido, ¿por qué?” Jim’s voice is almost a whisper, yet they barely take their eyes from the table. “This for us?”

    “Uh,” Oluwande looks around. The room is empty aside from them. “Yeah.”

    #writer: PinkGold#rating: g#status: oneshot #pairing: oluwande boodhari/jim jimenez #genre: fluff #trope: established relationship #setting: canon era
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  • thunderwhenhepurrs
    17.05.2022 - 4 days ago

    Quaxo and Tugger

    I wrote myself a little fic on the subject of only Tugger knowing Quaxo is Mistoffelees to make myself like the International Tour version a little more.


    There was something off about the newcomer.

    Oh, he was perfectly polite. Far too polite, for Tugger’s tastes. He had come to the Junkyard the way many did: scurrying after Bustopher Jones’ fluffy pantaloons, far too skinny but belly round from a fine meal. Bustopher had introduced this one with great flair, bragging about him as if he had not just met him a few days prior.

    “Coaxed him out from under the dumpster behind The Stage and Screen,” Tugger had heard Bustopher whisper to an attentive Jellylorum and Jennyanydots. “Young lad had some taste in location, at the very least.”

    The portly tom had announced his new find as Quaxo.

    Now that alone was ridiculous, to Tugger. Clearly this tom did not have a First Name, as he was a stray. Yet Quaxo could not be a Second Name. A Second Name required at least three syllables. Pointing this out to all the others, however, got Tugger nowhere. They were all enamored with the young tom, who was all “yessir” and “please” and “thank you”. They treated him like an innocent kitten, though he was clearly as old as Plato, who was already training to be a protector. Granted, he was a third Plato’s size, so that did not help matters any.

    “You’re just annoyed he is not fawning over you,” Bomba accused the fourth — or maybe fifth — time Tugger had complained to her about the matter.

    “That’s not true,” Tugger huffed, but the fact that Quaxo never did anything but stare with those big blue eyes when he came around did sting. “There’s just something off about him.”

    He smelled the way the holes humans had on their walls to attach cords he Was Not Supposed to Chew did. Tugger would spot him somewhere and the next moment he would be gone. When Tugger watched him for too long, he went blurry at the edges, like the shadows were reaching for him.

    “Leave the poor kit alone,” Bomba said, bopping his nose with her paw. “He’s not hurting anybody.”

    “He’s not a kit,” Tugger complained loudly, but Bomba had already sauntered off with a dismissive flick of her tail.

    So perhaps ignoring her advice all together and following Quaxo was a little extreme. Tugger, however, was a curious cat — huh, he liked the ring of that — and could not help himself. Even if everyone else thought he was being dramatic, there was something different about this newcomer, and he was determined to find out what it was.

    It was two full moons before the Jellicle Ball when he discovered that he had been very, very right.

    Quaxo would often disappear in the hours before dawn. He would slip out of the little den he had built inside of a discarded suitcase and go somewhere. Every time Tugger had tried to follow him, he had gone a different way, and each time he had given Tugger the slip.

    Tugger, however, was more clever than most gave him credit for. Each path Quaxo took all led to the same place. It was the roof of a squat building the humans who managed the junkyard used, though none had come to it in years. It was one of the few wide open spaces the junkyard offered.

    Tugger climbed a pile of junk until he had a clear view, hunkered down, and waited.

    What he saw was unlike anything he had ever even imagined. Tiny Quaxo scaled his way up the building on a pipe, surveyed the roof, and then shook all the white of his fur off.

    Well, not all of it. His cute little face stayed white, and a tuft on his chest. All the rest, however, had turned a beautiful midnight black.

    Then, that black started to glow. As if he had somehow started to reflect the night sky above, Quaxo began to shimmer with a thousand tiny stars.

    Tugger’s jaw was already on the ground before Quaxo started to dance.

    The Jellicle Tribe was full of amazing dancers that could entrance any watcher. This dancer, however, was in a league of his own. The shy cat seemed to disappear, leaving only a brilliant creature of the night in his wake. Quaxo leapt and spun as if he were moments from taking flight. He called light to him, and it pirouetted at his command like a willing partner.

    It was magical, both literally and figuratively.

    Forgetting himself, Tugger began to purr.

    The sound reached Quaxo’s ears — of course it did, Tugger’s purr was as loud as an automobile’s — and all at once the magic stopped. The sparkling vision of a cat shrunk back into the black and white stray that Bustopher had brought them.

    “Wait!” Tugger called, afraid Quaxo would disappear. He was certain now the little cat could do it. With an impressive jump, if he did say so himself, Tugger landed on the roof and skidded to a stop beside the puffed up ball of unhappy tom. “That was amazing!”

    Unable to contain himself, Tugger circled the smaller tom, his long tail swishing this way and that. “How did you do it? The stars in your fur? Why haven’t you danced like that before? You were making things light up! What else can you do?”

    It was only when he realized Quaxo was quivering harder than he had when he had first been inspected by a serious Munkustrap that Tugger slowed down. He paused midstep and then carefully sat. On a second thought, he lowered himself all the way to the ground so he did not tower. He often forgot his own size.

    “Did I scare you? I’m sorry.”

    Quaxo stared at him as if he had grown pollicle ears. “You’re not scared of me?” he asked in the tiniest of voices.

    The very thought made Tugger laugh. “Scared? Why would I be scared?” He sobered as he realized Quaxo’s question has been serious. “Do others normally get scared?”

    Slowly, Quaxo nodded. Then, questions of his own started to pour out of him. “Are you going to tell the others? Are they going to make me leave? Please, can you keep a secret? I like it here and I don’t want to leave!”

    Comforting others had always been Munkustrap’s realm of expertise, but Tugger had learned a thing or two in his time. He reached out and pulled the trembling tom against his chest and started to clumsily wash his ears.

    “No one’s going to make you leave,” Tugger assured him, starting to purr again. “They’ll think you’re amazing!”

    Quaxo clung to him, his curled ears flattening under Tugger’s tongue. “I don’t want anyone to know, please!” The terror in Quaxo’s voice broke Tugger’s heart. What kind of place had he been before this, that he was now so scared to share such a wonderful gift? He pulled back to look down at the other tom.

    “… if you really don’t want me to tell anyone, I won’t,” he said. All the tension went out of Quaxo at once, only to return when Tugger added, “But will you at least tell me all about it?”

    “Why?” Quaxo asked, eyeing Tugger uncertainly.

    Putting on his best kitten eyes, Tugger rolled over on his back to be the least intimidating he could possibly be. “Because I’m curious and I’ll die of it if I don’t know!”

    Quaxo twitched one now wet ear and slowly cocked his head. “I don’t think someone can die of curiousity.” Tugger could hear the humor in his voice and counted it as a win.

    “They absolutely can!” he gasped with all the drama he could muster — which was a lot. He was The Rum Tum Tugger, after all. “Even the humans say so! ‘Curiosity killed the cat!’”

    The tiny snort that got out of Quaxo was the cutest thing Tugger had ever heard. “I suppose I wouldn’t want you to die.” Perking up, Tugger wiggled closer, still on his back.

    “So you’ll tell me?” he asked.

    “If you promise to keep it a secret,” Quaxo answered.

    “I’ll tell no one you are a magical cat,” Tugger promised, rolling back over triumphantly. Then he eyed Quaxo thoughtfully. “One more question.”

    “I have a feeling you have many more than one more question,” Quaxo said, but he tilted his head in acceptance.

    “Is your real name Quaxo?” Ducking his head sheepishly, the small tom shook his head. “I knew it! Then what is it?”

    “See, that’s a second question already,” Quaxo pointed out, sheepishly pawing at his ear. “Mistoffelees. That’s my real name.”

    Now that was a proper name. A solid four syllables. Tugger nodded seriously to himself, memorizing it. “Mistoffelees.“

    It quickly became Tugger’s favorite name. Almost every night he took to joining Mistoffelees on the roof, learning more about his abilities. Mistoffelees was full of tricks, and even more full of sass, something that delighted Tugger to learn. Each dawn, he tried to convince Mistoffelees to drop the act, but his fear was too strong. It was always Quaxo who returned to the Junkyard.

    It was not until Munkustrap was telling the story of the Rumpus Cat to the kittens for the umpteenth time that an idea struck Tugger.

    “Do you trust me?” Tugger whispered to Quaxo. Quaxo narrowed his pretty blue eyes at Tugger, but slowly nodded. As Munkustrap finished and the kittens started to clamour for an encore, Tugger grinned and hopped forward.

    “How about I take a turn telling you all a story?” he asked. The kittens gasped in excitement, their attention immediately fixed on Tugger. Munkustrap looked as suspicious as Quaxo, but Tugger ignored it.

    “Let me tell you about a cat even more amazing than the Rumpus Cat!” Tugger began with a grin.

    “You’d best not be talking about yourself,” he heard Munkustrap mutter.

    “Nope, I’m talking about a cat even greater than me.” Someone in the audience scoffed. Etcetera, no doubt. How Tugger adored that kitten. “He’s small and quiet. Black from the tops of his ears to the tip of his tail. Silent as a shadow. Even if you ever spotted him, you’d never know he was capable of the most amazing things.”

    Tugger saw Quaxo start to tense, but he met his eyes. Silently asked again for Quaxo to trust him. Let me show you what they will think of you.

    Quaxo did not interrupt, and Tugger returned his attention to his rapt audience. “But sometimes, if the moon is full and you are very lucky, you will stumble across this wonderful cat— the Magical Mister Mistoffelees!”

    For weeks, Tugger entertained anyone who would listen with the tale of this magical cat who could pull the stars down from the sky and play any trick in the book. With each excited kitten, each smile from the elders, each hint of curiosity from the adults, Tugger watched Quaxo sit taller.

    There had been something very odd about the newcomer, and Tugger could not wait to reintroduce him to them all.

    #cats the musical #the rum tum tugger #mr mistoffelees#quaxo #cats as cats #my writing#g rated #could be read as platonic but have you met me #tugger is a big softie #i write fic as both therapy and protest sometimes #canon compliant (in that CATS has no canon kind of way) #this is not proofread #will probably go on ao3 later
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  • acciotheomione
    16.05.2022 - 4 days ago

    Collecting Data by thestanceyg

    Back for her eighth year, Hermione become study buddies with Theo Nott. And, perhaps, more than that.

    Link to AO3

    AO3 tags below the break

    Archive Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

    Relationship(s): Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott

    Additional Tag(s): Meet-Cute, except really a cute get together, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Flirting, Banter, Truth or Dare

    #rating: g#status: complete#author: thestanceyg #word count: <5k #theomione endgame: yes #era: eighth year #trope: truth or dare #trope: friends to lovers #trope: hogsmeade#card catalogue#theomione
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  • la-cruz-del-sur
    16.05.2022 - 5 days ago

    I got drunk and enjoyed a luxurious soak. Booze and sexy me time was exactly what I needed.

    #I’m only sharing the g rated stuff here #it was a very x rated weekend and if I showed you even a fraction of what I did I’d get the boot from this site
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  • mp100ficrec
    15.05.2022 - 5 days ago

    The Happy Florist by mopphead

    Fic can be read HERE.

    One Shot, Post-World Domination Arc. Completed. Rated: G. Word Count: 799

    Pairings: None

    Trigger Warnings: None

    “A few weeks after the world domination plan fell through and Minegishi got their ass handed to them and nearly died at the hands of Mogami, they were picking up the pieces of their life that wasn’t connected to Claw, trying to find a job. Being an ex-terrorist didn’t affect it as much as they first thought, considering they weren’t broadcasted like Shimazaki had, but with their eccentric hair color and lack of eyebrows, it had put a strain during job interviews.

    As they walked down the streets of Seasoning City, the buildings Claw had destroyed now restored as if Suzuki’s plan had never happened, they sighed while thinking about what other things they could do for a living. Then, as they turned the corner, it felt like something was calling out to them, and they snapped their head towards its direction.

    “Oh, joy,”

    - - - - -

    or, how Minegishi got a job”

    #Mob Psycho 100 #mp100 fic recs #the happy florist #mopphead#no pairings#oneshot #post-world domination arc #completed#rated: g #word count: 0 to 2k
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  • hp-fanfic-archive
    15.05.2022 - 5 days ago

    it’s you, the wash of starlight, the old paradox. by blessed_image Pairing: Harry/Ron Rating: G Word Count: 1k They look at eachother properly, it was sad, maybe a little lame, but it wasn’t too early or too late, and perhaps they could work something out. Something just for the two of them, something no one else could come between, something only they could have a say in- because that’s how it could’ve been, all of these years, they could’ve had it all.

    #harry/ron#ron/harry#rarry#ronarry#rating: g #less than 5k words #fluff#get together #friends to lovers #angst#personal favorite#lightning era#pining #hp fic rec #mlm ship #rarry fic rec #ronarry fic rec
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  • maneskin-fic-archive
    14.05.2022 - 1 week ago

    L’altro lato dello specchio

    Author: glitterxgold Rating: G (should be M) Pairings: Damiano/Ethan Genre: Fluff and angst AUs: Yes Content warnings: none Summary: sometimes, it’s too easy to think that two people are too different, that they have nothing to do with each other. what’s not so easy, however, is realizing that, at the end of the day, polar opposites can be two sides of the same mirror.

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  • anatidae-dragonage
    14.05.2022 - 1 week ago

    Hey Goose, happy friday! For DADWC: Birdwatching, for Leliana and Surana?

    Thank you!!! This is super short and probably the only thing I’ll write tonight, but happy Friday @dadrunkwriting!

    Word Count: 459

    Rating: G

    Pairing: Leliana/f!Surana


    Leliana’s whisper pulled Surana from a hazy sleep, and she opened her eyes into early morning sunlight. The air was crisp. Leliana’s lap was warm.

    “Oh.” She pulled herself up, stiff, and wincing from embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

    Leliana held a finger to Surana’s lips. Her eyes sparkled in the sun.

    “Look.” Her voice was hushed, and Neria followed her gesture out beyond the tree line. They were meant to be keeping watch—a stakeout for a cart en route to Denerim—but the moon had been overhead the last time Surana had blinked. She squinted, but saw no cart or horse or darkspawn in the distance. “In the tree.”

    Surana’s eyes snapped to…a bird.

    “Listen,” Leiana whispered. Then she whistled, five short, clear notes. For a moment there was silence. Then the bird whistled back.

    “How did you do that?” Surana surged forward and the bird startled, flapping to a tree further back. She expected a dirty look, but Leliana giggled.

    “Shh,” she whispered again, then whistled a different melody. From further away, the bird called back the same. “It’s a starling,” she explained softly. “They’re accomplished mimics.”

    Surana’s eyes flit between Leliana and the bird as the game went on, fascinated as the songs grew longer and more complex. Eventually, the starling took off, and Leliana stretched her arms over her head before focussing her attention on Surana.

    “Good morning.” For a moment she was haloed in sunlight, and Surana had to look away to hide the flush to her cheeks.

    “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she apologized.

    “It’s alright. You looked so sweet with your eyes closed. Besides—“ She pointed across the road before Surana had a chance to respond, to where Zevran and Alistair looked suspiciously horizontal.

    So sweet?

    “No cart then?”

    “No cart,” Leliana confirmed. “But there have been so many birds. I like being close to the forest.”

    Surana hadn’t taken the time to watch the birds or the stars since leaving Ostagar. In the Circle, so many late nights had bled into early mornings that way.

    “There’s one,” Leliana continued. “A robin.” Tiny and round, it darted about overhead. “I heard a dove in the distance, too.” She quieted, and through the rustling of the breeze Surana could make out a distant coo-roo.

    She’d been dreading their impending trek into the Brecillian Forest, but maybe if it was like this—

    “It’s nice,” Leliana sighed, finishing the sentiment. She leaned softly against Surana’s shoulder before she whistled again. The only thing Surana heard in response was her own heart beating. “You try.”

    Surana cleared her throat before she attempted a whistle, more airy than musical, but Leliana giggled.

    “Try again.”

    The starling giggled back, and Leliana and Surana’s laughter was enough to wake Alistair.

    #dadwc #Leliana/f!surana #rated g
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