#IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG SINCE IVE DRAWN HER .. need to do it more shes easily one of my biggest faves <3 gillian my bestest friend

[goldiipond]

girl what the hell

[blamin8r]

These are my personal designs/references for SMG4 because of how much I draw fan art for it. You can tell which ones are my absolute favorites to draw based on how much I’ve changed them basically. It’s organized by Recolors, The Girls, Non-Human, and Excess (sorry Kaizo)

Mario: I gave him stitches on his outfit because of how often he explodes and gets hurt (Luigi fixes his clothes since that’s less expensive than constantly replacing them), and those dark marks on his face from when Zero grabbed him and did that weird crap during the 10 year anniversary video. I also gave him a star pin on his overalls too.

SMG4: There’s so much. I made him shorter, changed his body type, gave him darker skin, scars from when he was possessed by the TV Adware dude (and other various scars), eyebags, a jacket, IV on his gloves, and the arrow from the USBs. He also has the arrow on the back of his jacket, but I haven’t drawn his back view before with this design so that’s never been visible in my art yet.

SMG3: I made him even shorter than SMG4, gave him longer hair, matching scars to SMG4, darker skin, a cape, black gloves, platformer boots, the USB arrow, and I changed his body type. The back of his cape has the same skull design that’s on his hat and boots too.

Luigi: I didn’t change too much to him, just his shirt, a flower pin, and some scars. Also he’s round like Mario but not the “skinny brother” because I don’t personally believe in that. (Though whenever he takes off his shirt he immediately becomes a buff man because SMG4 logic)

X: This one was fun. He already has dark skin on his recolor self, so I also went ahead and gave him curly hair, a beard, eye bags, a beanie, hoodie, changed his height, and gave him a cool weird eye thing because why not. He and FM also have similar eye colorings to 3 and 4

FM: He’s the only recolor I decided to make not chubby but instead kinda fit since he’s a police officer. I also gave him a police styled hat, badge, different shirt and gloves, longer hair, a bunch of scars, piercings, and steel toed boots. He looks pretty cool :D

Minion: Parts of her design I did out of pure spite. Her body type matches SMG4’s but she’s a bit shorter, an overalls skirt thing, matching hat, pink gloves, some long socks, and I kept her mustache but just made it smaller. Why? Well, I haven’t headcanoned SMG4 as trans (unlike what a lot of my friends and mutual have done), but I did do that for Minion, because in my mind, she basically has SMG4’s exact body type, including the reproductive organs. But she’s still a woman. And I also believe that women (cis and trans) shouldn’t have to feel shame for having facial hair or body hair, so I kept that there, again, out of spite for people who really feminize her body in a stereotypical way in their personal designs for her.

Meggy: I’m not an extremist for Inkling Meggy or anything, I do like her as a human, but I’m still not sure why they chose to make her a human and not just a squid that’s not Nintendo styled. So instead I just gave her some other squid attributes, like the typical tentacle hair thing, but also some fins on her arms and legs. Her skin is a little darker and she has freckles now. I made her outfit more black and orange themed because I personally hate the dull whites and browns on her outfit. To reference two of her other outfits, I had her keep her college jacket tied around her waist, and her glasses on her shirt since I feel she probably needs them for reading still. I also gave her more sports styled clothes like her shorts and the knee pads. And I removed her goggles because I despise drawing them, she has too much accessories on her head and that one section is so annoying to draw. Lastly, I made her a bit muscular because there’s no way every single one of the girls has the exact same body type.

Tari: Her design just got updated when I was in the middle of working on this, and it’s really good so I only changed her body type by making her chubby and added a gradient to her hair.

Saiko: Her outfit is cool minus the colors, so I gave her a more pink and black theme for her outfit colors. I also made her more muscular and gave her some scars since she’s known as the more violent one in SMG4 who carries that massive ass hammer just casually.

Melony: I looked up where watermelons came from, and they came from Africa apparently, so I made her black (also because all the human characters are white/light skinned so I changed that) and I think it makes sense with her hair too because of the thingies that come down over her ears. It also makes the pointy things behind her hood make sense too. I changed her body to have more body fat and gave her some stretch marks and cellulite to go with it. I like her hoodie, but you can’t tell me that’s all she has on, so I also gave her some shorts, since she gets sexualized so much.. She also has shoes too, those socks would be so nasty otherwise. Her diety form is gonna have actual armour because that makes more sense than just a different colored hoodie.

Belle: I changed nothing about her, not because I don’t like her or think her design is perfect or anything, (she’s great and I miss her ;-;), but I actually chose to keep her as is just because people who look like her and have her body type still exist, they’re just not the only one or the main one. Humans vary a lot.

Karen: I didn’t change much, but since she’s a single mother, I made her body look a little more like a middle aged woman, and gave her a sweater her kids made for her too that she wears proudly.

Shroomy: I know there are multiple characters that are technically naked, but I felt that Shroomy should at least have a Boy Scouts outfit on, he lives in a world with Toads which do have clothes so it didn’t feel right to have just the badge thing over him

Bob, Rob, Boopkins, and Jub Jub: I kept them as is because there’s not much to their appearances anyway, minus a few rips and tears for Bob’s outfit.

SMG2: I made his body a little more proportional so that his head was at least not larger than the rest of his whole fucking body, and I gave him some excess scars since he and SMG1 have been around for the longest, and have probably been through a lot together. I also gave him sleeves, shoes, glasses, and matching gloves that all the SMGs now have. His antenna thing is also thicker because I don’t wanna make it too thin.

SMG1: His body is also more proportional, but that’s mainly because I didn’t like making his torso long. I also gave him clothes to match 2 a little more but darker. He’s got excess scars as well, and his gloves are opposite to 2’s similar to how I made 3 and 4’s gloves opposite of each other. He’s also got glasses like 2, and they match their head shapes.

Kaizo: I fucking love Kaizo, he looks so damn cool to me, so I kept his outfit the same, just changed up his body. He’s more muscular and has more demonic features (pointed pupils and ears, tail, more sharp teeth, forked tongue, claw-like nails), as well as a bunch of scars everywhere on his body. Plus more body hair, and based on a Kaizo design I saw elsewhere (I forgot who made it) but I made the ends of his hair dyed red because it looks cool. And piercings.

Swag and Chris: I love these two, but I couldn’t think of how to change Swag and Chris besides making them a buff and old. (To me, they’re at least in their 30’s or 40’s). I do believe in dilf Chris tho, so make whatever assumptions you want from that.

Whimpu: I actually really don’t like Whimpu, mainly for his personality, but also because of the Waifu Factory episode, it just really made me uncomfortable with how objectified and dehumanized the anime girls were in it, and he was a big part of that. Still, I wanted to change him a bit since his design is a little plain. He’s still plain, but a bit less. I added acne, buttons on the tie, and a shirt pocket with a pen in it.

Steve: I hate how I end up drawing Steve, but I didn’t want him to look too human in a normal way, because a part of his charm is being this weird block dude. So he just looks like a more blocky human with dirty clothes, a lot of scars, and a beard.

[liquidstar]

april fools is over so now im going to be slash srs instead of slash j. im going to post a little excerpt from one of the oc writing practices ive been doing :) again im not super experienced for a variety of reasons but im doing my best here.

but im going to try and put my self conciousness to the side (thats probably an important part of the practice too, right?) since this isnt final version either way, i can just say im sharing a WIP! so for now it will go the way of most of my other oc stuff..... under the cut

the only context you need is that this would be the opening scene for the story. if i post others i'll have to give more context bc most of them are taken from the middle of something. anyway here goes:

-----

“I love you

I've loved you since the beginning

From when you were only stardust

To when you will rejoin the stars

When everyone will be together again

Understand, you don’t simply live in the universe

You are part of it, taking on a form uniquely alive

You are the universe giving love back to itself

I love you so much”

“Wait!!!”

A lone girl jolts awake, crying a plea into the empty air. Tears stream down her cheeks, as she calls for someone she doesn't know. Her heart aches with a nameless yearning that fades with the memory of her dream. Still, against her will, the emotions linger. A profound sense of love consumes her, an agonizing, grieving love, meant for her. She sighs and wipes away her tears. It was an absurd dream, a ridiculous notion.

As her conscious mind clears, she takes in her surroundings; a forest drowned in the pale blue light of dawn. Her sleeping bag, now encased in dew, was laid on the cold grass. She sits for a while, gazing at the faint sliver of the rising sun’s glow with an indistinct expression, and eventually stands up.

The lone girl begins her daily routine by braiding her hair. With a wave of her hand, she freezes dew on a rock, creating herself a mirror. Her fingers carefully weave her brown locks into a braid, now adorned with a snowflake clip and a scarlet ribbon. She throws on a long blue half-skirt over her shorts, matching her shirt. She forces on a pair of black boots and cuffs on her arm. Lastly, she grabs a moon-themed spear, and she's ready for the day.

Before setting off, she made sure to pack all her belongings, including her numerous hand-drawn maps and a compass. However, she also stops to look into the bag deeper, foolishly expecting to find something new. Instead, she only sighs, "Still no food."

She puts on the backpack and trudges forward anyway, ignoring the hunger pains as best she can. She hums to keep herself distracted.

As she walks, the trees tower above her, shrouding the horizon and taunting her. Birds occasionally fly into view, but seem to disappear in an instant. She wonders if her eyes are playing tricks on her.

The lone girl scribbles on her maps, trying to record a labyrinth of identical tree trunks and twisted paths. This proves useless, as this elliptical forest has her going in circles. Exasperated, she fidgets with her compass, only to see the needle is frantically twitching around. She presses it gently to her forehead and quietly complains, “Don't tell me you're broken…”

Her train of thought was cut short by the sudden sound of running water, so loud she can’t fathom how she’s only now begun to hear it. She decided to put off one problem for another. Following the sound through some shrubs, she quickly finds the source.

Her spear at the ready, she approaches the stream. Scanning its depths for signs of fish, she walks cautiously. Her posture was awkward, her expression was uncertain, betraying her lack of experience. She held her spear to her chest with both arms as she encroached the water’s edge.

She inhales in preparation, removes her skirt and boots, and enters the water with slow, careful steps. The very surface of the stream begins to freeze as it makes contact with her skin. Tiny, thin crystals of ice form as she steps further in. Breathing deeper, as she tries to control the frost, she makes her way to the center of the stream. She stands waiting for fish.

Rather than throwing her spear to hunt, like the intended purpose, she stabs at the water. She’s not good at this, however, and only ends up scaring other potential prey away. She makes several attempts at this but is unsuccessful each time. Refusing to quit, her repeated strikes become more desperate and uncoordinated with each failure. Her growing frustration only makes the water freeze deeper, eventually solidifying around her legs. She yelps, now in a panic, and begins to frantically stab at the ice to free herself.

A mess.

Escaping this ordeal, the lone girl abandons any further attempt at fishing. It probably isn't her calling anyway. She trudges on, lost, wet, cold, and hungry.

She looks at her compass again, her face reflecting in its glass. “You're broken,” she tiredly states, as she feels her eyes begin to well with tears.

“No! No no no! Don't cry! Don't cry Polaris,” The lone girl, Polaris, reassures herself, “Last time you cried you froze your eyelids shut, and that really hurt,” She whines aloud.

Polaris takes a deep breath, slaps her cheeks, and swallows her tears. She elects to follow the river, her only hope of escape, pursuing the promise of a village just beyond this enigmatic forest. She daydreams of a warm meal in a cozy restaurant, and maybe a cold desert too. A glimmer of determination returns to her stride, as she continues her hum from before.

[rleonard9]

4

at the sight of her opening eyes, aryne and john’s shoulders sag in relief, tears of relief accumulating in their eyes. meanwhile matthew, still posted by the door, stood frozen, unsure if his desperate mind was playing tricks on him.

after a few beats, matthew let out a soft “baby,” voice hesitant in asking. and while he didn’t get a verbal answer, the hum he got in an affirmative tone made sobs of relief bubble in his chest. “baby,” he said again, voice a lot more sure. yet again, no verbal response, but this time her eyes were drawn towards matthew, a sleepy, still half-drugged up grin making its way to her face.

yet before he could make a move towards her bedside, the door came bursting open, dr.smith, nurse johnston, and another professional the three people in the room (bar bear and bug) didn’t know rushing in the room.

upon seeing bear awake and conscious on the bed, smiles overtook their faces. “hello ms.tavares, glad to have you back with us. do you know what happened?”

bear noticeably gulped, pausing, and then gestured towards her throat.

matthew, an expert at reading his girlfriend, states, “she needs water, her throats too dry.” at his words, nurse johnston’s eyes widened, uttering, “oh, right,” before quickly shoving a glass of water in bear’s direction.

after bear had a few sips, she gained a thigh full look on her face, before replying, “i remember making another drink and then sitting on the couch in the suite. after that, everything is dark.”

“you said another drink. about how many did you drink?” dr.smith questions, wanting to ensure the assumption they had made about her alcohol intake was correct.

“three- but my second one might has well have been two. i went a little heavy,” bear stated. her statement made the unknown medical professional’s presence light up, instantly writing down notes on his clipboard.

“and just for assistance purposes, please state your full name, where you live, your parents and siblings names, and what your father’s occupation is,” dr.smith inquires, the unknown male seemingly awaiting bear’s responses eagerly.

“my name’s barret aryne tavares, i live in toronto, my dad’s name is john, my mom’s name is aryne, my siblings are axton, jace and bug. and my dad plays hockey for the maple leafs,” bear responds with ease.

at her responses, the man quietly converses with dr.smith, before making his way out of the room. “that was dr.allar- he’s one of the neurology specialists on site. he was just in here to monitor you for any immediate signs of memory issues. however, you aced it. he’ll likely drop in one more time before you leave, but otherwise you shouldn’t see him,” nurse johnston pipes up from her place beside dr.smith.

“may i ask for your names? i would know them, but i was kinda unconscious when we first met,” bear joked, being met with silence from her parents and matty, even bug giving her a little look. on the other hand, dr.smith and nurse johnston let controlled smiles bleed onto their faces.

“i’m nurse johnston, and i administered your hemodialysis treatment. this is dr.smith, and she’s overseeing your case,” nurse johnston replied, tone giving the effect this wasn’t the first time she gave an introductory like that.

dr.smith spoke now, from her place next to bear’s vital machine. “your vitals look very improved. we were able to take you off hemodialysis in about. 10 minutes. you’ve been on fluids ever since. however we’re going to start you on an iv, to help lower your BAC, and also remove any traces of your medication that still may be interacting with the alcohol. but after tonight, as long as everything looks good tomorrow morning, we should be able to discharge you,” and with that, she gestured towards nurse johnston, who took that as her que to take a few quick steps towards the floating desk connected to her iv, and made quick work to prepare another one to go into her arm.

once she was done preparing the iv, dr.smith took a step back to give nurse

johnston some room, who made quick work to prepare any area on her vein, she took one glance towards bear, as well as matty who had taken refuge in a chair directly on this other side during this interaction and said, “you may want something to hold on to. patients sometimes feel various levels of discomfort,” and at her words, matthew’s hand found a home on the arm rest of her hospital bed, and bear’s hand wandered up the rest to grasp his. at the minimal connection, they both let small grins make their way on to their faces.

seeing bear grasp kniesy’s hand, nurse johnston quickly inserted the iv, and bear gripped matty’s hand a little harder, before letting go once the discomforting feeling was over with.

“well you look to be set. nurse johnston will probably come back before night fall to change your iv if your BAC hasn’t lowered. however in the morning, you should be good to go, and should be discharged by 11am,” dr.smith chirped, and then glanced at nurse johnston, and gestured for the other woman to follow her.

once the door shut behind the two women, it was as if the silence became a thousand times heavier.

best glanced nervously between her parents, who were sat in chairs close to the door, and her boyfriend sat next to her, and then quickly broke eye contact once she locked eyes with matthew, and resorted to glueing her eyes to the hand in her lap with two iv’s attached.

finally, matthew had enough, and he broke. “what were you thinking bear? that was so stupid. i get aryne usually reads your meds and their requirements to you, but why wouldn’t you do it yourself? and i know i like to read them off to you as you take them, but do you understand how utterly stupid you were today? had you made another one, you could’ve died bear! you could’ve died…” his voice broke towards the end as he trailed off, phone grasped limply in his hand, with a google search of, “how much alcohol can mix with prescription drugs before you die?”

the longer his rant went on, the faster tears fell from bears eyes. she knows she was stupid- at least now. and all she wanted to do was get to the arena quicker. that’s it. she didn’t mean anything by it.

at her thought process, she quietly spoke up, “i just wanted to get to the arena quicker. i know i was taking forever to get ready, so i just grabbed my pills and took them before we left. i swear i would’ve read them. i should’ve read them…,” her voice broke now, distressed by the amount of worry she knows she caused the people in the room, and probably many more.

at the thought of other people, her head whipped up, distress taking over, “where are the boys? are they okay? did they have to see me like this?” she asked in a panicked manner. her daughters distress made aryne remember she had never gotten an answer from john in the lobby about the boys, and her head turned quickly to him.

“mitch and steph got them home. steph said she remembered their night time routine, and me and matty jumped at the opportunity to get here faster,” john’s voice spoke up in a soothing manner, bringing a hand to grasp his wife’s, and making eye contact with his oldest.

unexpectedly, the door creaked open, nurse johnston peaking her head in. “i went to go search for a blanket, as most hemodialysis patients, along with people with multiple iv’s usually complain of the chills. however it looks like we’re running short, so i apologize,” and she quickly flashed a smile and shut the door again.

once again, as she shut the door, silence overtook the room.

finally john spoke up, with a sleeping bug in his arms. “im going to hand you bug, and me and mom are going to run to the restroom, grab a few snacks and drinks to bring back here, and then i think we’re going to head out. mom’s about to join bug in lala land,” he joked towards the end, raising the hand attached to his wife’s, and promptly shaking her out of her sleep filled haze.

and doing as he said he said he would, he adjusted bug into the crook of her big sisters neck and took a step back to ensure she stayed asleep. at the loss of weight, john shook his arm out, and then questioned, ”what snacks do you guys want?”

both young adults in the room answered harmoniously, “cheetos and blue gatorade,” and then shyly glanced towards eachother, before looking away.

the adults in the room smiled at one another, reminiscent of how they sued to be. after their rapid reminiscing, they quickly made their way to the door, shutting it softly behind them.

at their absence, matthew looked towards bear, and simply took her in. he was so thankful she was alive. and in reality- he didn’t mean what he said earlier. he was just scared of the idea that he possibly could’ve had to continue on in life without her.

“i’m sorry for how i said what i said earlier baby,” matty paused, ensuring bear’s attention was on him. “it’s everything i wanted to say, but in the wrong way. today just scared the shit out of me bear. it made me realize just how quickly things can happen that can change your life. i; at this point in time, have no clue how i’d go on without you,” at the conclusion of his emotional confession, bear was worked to tears.

“oh baby, no don’t cry i-“ bear cut him off quickly, “please kiss me idiot. you don’t just tell me you can’t live without and don’t give me a little kiss,” she jokingly spoke, quickly leaning up to meet him in the middle.

however in the middle of their lip-lock, the door cracked open agan, john and aryne coming back through the door.

aryne spoke up jokingly to break their embrace, “just because we finally let you two have the door shut doesn’t mean you jump in her bed,” aryne teased the knies boy, coming close to the boy and messing with his hair.

once she neared matthew, she set their snacks on the bed, and then reached for her babygirl, who had begun just barely waking up.

when she had bug securely in her arms, she made her way to stand by john at the door, both parents turning around one last time before they departed.

“bear, we’re happy you’re okay. mom’s gotta run the boys to school, so i’ll drop by in the morning to sign you out. we called off morning skate before we left, so we’ll probably just head home after,” john spoke with the confidence of a leader.

“anyway,” aryne chirped up after her husband, “goodnight to the both of you. we love you guys, sleep tight!”

and with that, the tavares parents, along with the littlest tavares, were out the door.

once it was just matthew and barrett in the room, there was a long pause. but then suddenly, bear spoke up in between her now chattering teeth.

“fuck did they- they turn the temp down in here?” bear questioned, arms covered in goosebumps.

at her reaction, matthew got up to check the temperature first, before answering, “no babe- its only 67 in here. are you okay?” he questioned, concern building in his chest for his girl.

that concern was suddenly washed away when he remembered what nurse johnston had poked her head in about earlier. “they said you’d get cold baby- but they don’t have any blankets. what do you want me to do?” he questioned, placing his warm hands on her arms in an effort to help warm her up.

“please cuddle with me”, bear said rapidly, grasping matty’s arm with the hand closest to him.

“your like a heater at night bubba, and you should do the trick,” she spoke in a mix of seriousness and teasing.

matty took her statement at face value. “alright, then move over, and i’ll lay on your right,” matthew said, as he got up to lay down in his usual place beside bear.

just as he went to lay down though, bear got a timid look on her face. “you- ah- you usually don’t wear a shirt at night bubba. can you uh- take it off now?” she questioned, prepared to say it was a joke depending on his reaction.

at her question though, he simply reached for the bottom of his shirt, and yanked it off of his body, showcasing his athletic build.

“even in a hospital bed you just want to see me naked,” he teased, before laying down next to his girl and getting comfortable.

with her one good hand, bear jokingly hit his shoulder. “nuh-uh,” she said in childish manner. “you’re just warmer this way, that’s why,” she said, a grin on her face alluding to a different meaning.

after their teasing interaction, matty got bear settled in his chest, her head laying on his heart to listen to the rhythmic beat. the duo went silent, before bear spoke up in a tone of voice that showed just how worn out she really was. “thank you for loving me matty, regardless of how stupid the decisions i sometimes make are, the girl said while tilting her head to look her boyfriend in the eyes.

quickly he responded, “baby, i wouldn’t have you any other way. let’s not make this a weekly thing though, okay?” at his teasing words, bear nodded her head and said, “agreed. i’m a little tired of it too ya know,” making the duo for some reason break out into sleep deprived giggles.

“in all seriousness, i love you to the moon matthew knies,” bear said after the fact, all remnants of joking gone. “and i love you to the stars barrett tavares,” and with their loving words, the couple locked lips one more time for a kiss that said everything they couldn’t.

once bear finally lays her head back on matty’s bare chest, a few beats of silence pass.

“hey ba-“ he attempts, before quickly realizing she was asleep. with that realization, he slowly angled his head down to place one more kiss on her hairline, and then wrapped one of his arms securely around his girl to keep her safe where she belonged- with him.

the next morning, nurse johnston opens the door quietly to begin making patient rounds, and smiles at the sight of the two lovesick teenagers embracing eachother.

she could come back later- they could use the rest.

IM SOBBING

this is so good

i love you gray

[pansy-picnics]

ugh if there’s one thing this world needs is more Cass and Eugene interaction, like I don’t just mean bickering and the sort. Like actually being there for one another when they’re upset and helping each other out.

I’ve literally found about 2 fanarts where it’s just them and they’re not getting at each other! I still think that they would bicker but it would actually be way less intense and spite-fuelled after the series and they’d find some common ground, especially since they are the only ones (beside Pascal ofc) who know what it’s like to have died and come back to life, I can’t imagine how relieved Eugene would be to get to talk to someone about it and have them actually understand.

I hc anyway that after Cass came back she was like super out of it, and Eugene knew exactly how she felt and could help her, I think Cass would also be relieved that someone else knew what it was like and could sympathise with her.

I think though one of my absolute favourite hcs I’ve seen for them is that after Cass comes back Eugene defo sorts out Cass’ haircare routine and looks after her hair for her, cause he more than likely has wavy/curly hair too (but just straightens it most of the time). And although Cass is like super reluctant to let him help at first, she eventually gives in and it’s like the best her hair has been in forever so she just lets him do it regularly from then on and it’s just their thing. Also it gives Cass a chance to open up as well (no eye contact, relaxed and something to distract her if it gets too bad) which she definitely needs especially straight after coming back to the castle post ziti.

But yeah I neeeed more of these idiots interacting cause they literally have my heart istg (and also the show did nothing for them really post s1)

Hah realised I’ve just gone on a rant but like it 2am and I’m sleep deprived, sorry! :)))

anon you’re so right and let me just tell you ive felt exactly the same way for SO long so youve come to the right person

^ obviously theres been more since this was posted but THIS is a rlly good masterpost of art of them. THIS is a cassgene/uknighted dream triad fic and i dont know if thats your thing but it basically captures the exact bonding moment that you mentioned imo it fits them SUPER well both romantically and platonically!!

ur so right about the hair thing also omfg cass is the WORST out of all of them when it comes to taking care of her hair. like whenever it gets too long she just grabs the first sharp object she can find and cuts it all off. her ends are so broken and frizzy its SO bad. but eugene and rapunzel force her to do little spa days with them all the time. cass is very practical and really doesnt understand the point but she just likes spending time with both of them.

honestly as much as i love them i havent drawn a lot of art of cass and eugene individually….but theyre best friends actually. like they have banter and they tease each other but my general interpretation of them and uknighted dreams relationship is just. Comfortable. theyve come around to accept their differences and have a shared sense of solidarity with each other. and not just bc of rapunzel either!!! they hang out without her just as often and they genuinely have come to understand one another. they like to spar together and rapunzel watches while she works on anatomy sketches.

they’re not going out of their way to be physically affectionate or anything, but i try to make it obvious in my uknighted dream art that they arent averse to it either. it’s always the little things for me man!!!! the subtle affectionate gazes or the casual hand on the shoulder or just a gentle hand hold its so. IMPORTANT ok!!!!!!

they understand each other on a deep psychological level and yet they regularly tell the other to kill themselves. they are literally everything to me. i need to draw them soon

[penguin--person]

It’s my ship bingo so I get to ask for three ships if I want too! (You can do any of them that you want or all of them, whatever you like.)

Vastgiver!

The princess x the princess killer from Slay the Princess (it’s my understanding that there are multiple aspects of both of these characters, so please pick your favorites)

and! Beastnoch

i answered this w vastgiver last time i did this bingo i think, and im afriad my thoughts on them havent changed at all since then... only now i am slightly more mortfied to be reminded of them (i love lifey w my life (hehe), but tva.. stomping on it until its nothing but a small purpe stain) so ill do beastnoch and LQ x the den BEAST IMEANT BEAST!!!:3 stp spoilers for the latter one - stp seems like smth you'd enjoy!! :) its a rlly good game

as you can see um i think that theyre uh um i think that. um . i think that. uh um. i think um. i think that. Runs into heavy traffic i think that its very cool when (spoilers warning, again, and talking/gushing about gore) the BEAST eats you like GOD its awesome!! ok so ive already went crazy about this before, but the gore in this game is INSANE!!! its so well drawn!!!! and it perfectly shines in the BEAST chapter - she eats you Alive and you can see her gut n shit !! and you can (try to) claw your way out of her stomach, but at best, you stab her heart just in time before she finishes devouring you. this leads to like, my 2nd favorite princess, the wild:) my 3rd would be the spectre or prisoner i think (spectre was my first ever princess, and i like her a lot, but the prisoner intrigues me a bunchies).. tbh the wild would be my fav if she had gore. but she doesnt:( BEAST has her themes AND gore!!! so like :3 hehe the BEASTSdeal is that she wants to have you in her belly so that she can leve the cabin (cant leave it without you), but like, she needs to hunt you down first. her cabin is sooo cool and i like the voice of the hunted:) shes just like hunting you !!! pouncing on you !!! shes a BEAST dude shes an ANIMAL!!!!! like shes just so cool!!! the wilds sooo. what if i ate u and then we were fused and we could never be 2 people again bc we're forever 1 person, and what if maybe that wasnt such a bad thing what if it was awesome what if we had the time of our lives chilling as one being. its Awesome!!!! consumed by devotion vs devoted to consumption fr...

first of all i admire your dedication youve been these guys' number one soldier ever since i met you, most likely even before, so i want to give you a shoutout‼️🔥💯 they intrigue me !! like, how there can be multiple readings of them, yknow??? multiple interpretations, n they can all be interesting!!! yknow?? to me theyre like, a lighthouse ... if u get what i mean.. goddd i havent watched otgw in SO long it would literally not even take me a day, i should do it again. and then i can think about beastnoch!!! shamefully enough i dont have any big thoughts on them... or any tbh... i think they're cool, and i wouldnt have thought to put them together on my own, but i can def see the appeal!!! :) theyre aweosme... theyre like a cousin ship to me tbh.. my friend beastnoch:) the body horror potential is awesome i think - like, both their relationships to their bodies must be at least Kinda fucked up, right? likei said, awesome!!!

[a-very-tired-raven]

Okay, since ive been getting a lot of love for my ary lately, id like to give you guys some top ary blogs ive followed for years, that i feel they dont get enough love.

Keep in mind that these are not in order from best to least, just in numbered order to make things easy.

(Another thing! While i may have found the majority of these blogs from undertale content, i need you to understand that a lot of these either dont do undertale art as frequently as they used to, or not at all. So please dont go in expecting that these are all undertale blogs based on MY intrests. Thank you.)

1. @springbon-t-art /@thecoolerspringbon-t has WONDERFUL roundhouse like style, and her fanart and characters range from all over(cuphead and bendy and the ink machine are just two examples, she has so much more unrecognized works and animatics on youtube that i think deserves much more love)

2. @twitchydoodle i havent visted this wonderful blog in a while, but i have followed for a good time(lets just say for a few years lol) so i cant say for sure what art is posted there at this moment, HOWEVER, i CAN say that twitchy has a Breathtaking art style, and has some of the most interesting and fleshed out ocs!!! Definitely check em out!

3. @calcium-cat i know cals been gettin a little bit more attention over the last year or so, but i still think she deserves much more recognition for her art. She has wonderful and thought out fanfics, not to mention the funny and well drawn fanart she posts for them!

4. @glitchysquidd I dont pop in as often as i used to, but glitchy's blog is one ive looked up to for a while. Here you can find very well written fnaf fics and fanart, chill energ(not to mention hilarious shenanigans),and a very unique and distinct artstyle.(seriously broski ive used your art for reference so many time 😭🤚🏽-). I suggest you guys head down to the basement and enjoy the tour.

5. @meatygutsy oh gee where do i even start- this blog has some of the most unique and well thought out ocs i think ive seen in a very long time. The artstyle here and style of coloring and shading is like nothing else. All of the colors pop and go together just right, not to mention the well fleshed out backstorys of each character.

6.@glaucus22 while this blog certainly isnt as active as it used to be, this is yet another artist that ive used as reference for countless times. They have a very distinct artstyle, and put much thought into their characters and their lore. I highly recommend going through the art tags here and taking a peek, along with a reblog or two!!!

7. @ijustwannahavefunn another blog with VERY well thought out and styled ocs, and a to die for artstyle. I also recommend checkjng out their youtube channel, which has VERY smooth animations and animatics. Definitely a hidden gem.

8. @vrnicky is a very good friend of mine that is WAY WAY WAY too unrecognized. They dont get NEARLY enough love for the anount of love and hard work they out into their characters and art. Please show em some love for me!!!

9. @loupy-mongoose is a favorite pokemon ary blog of mine. While you might find mostly mewtwo and mew stuff, please know that this is because of this creators mewtwo comic. You may know what im takling about if you know about similar more popular blogs (@/xxtc-96xx @/mewtwoandme and more ) but what separates this blog from many others is their very very different story, and an artstyle that'll put you at ease. Not to mention unique and well thought out mew and mewtwo designs.

And lastly, for now at least ,10. @whiteartblood an art blog that i havent visted in a couple months. This creator has some of the best undertale art i swear. One of my favorite styles!! A very lovely and instantly recognizable artstyle(that again, i have used for reference...i dont even know how many times), and even better ocs.

Now i know there are so many more blogs that are deserving of recognition, but its late and i cant look up 50 usernames at the moment.

However, while you are not obligated to, I sincerely hope you go show these guys some love(and reblogs!!!!!!!) For me. These guys have been a very big influence on my art, artists ive looked up to for YEARS now, and luckly for me some of them even being friends of mine, which im so very thankful for.

Ill definitely be making another post like this, with more writing inclusion and even more deeply hidden gems that require some digging.

I apologize for any typos that are unfortunately guaranteed as thats kind've what im known for lmao <- has made a fool of herself countless times) and i cant help but feel nervous that these talented people will see them, but know ive done the best ive can.

Thank you, and have a great time everyone!

[ostianshadow]

TOA Anniversary Munday!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: vicky (aka key or wkey)

Pronouns: she/her

Birthday (no year): jan 6

Where are you from? What is your time zone? french canadian. west coast best coast. pst.

Roleplay experience: idk since i was like 7? running around the neighbourhood w the boyz and gming our own little world of makebelieve… writing/online-wise, since around the age of 10-11 when we got a puter in the living room.

Got any pets? black kitty called cabbage i fostered and then adopted. she's no thoughts head empty and that's why she won over my other 16 foster cats. /hj

Favorite time of year: autumn-ish or spring. don't do well in the heat but sad makes winter bad.

Some interests and things you like: comics&webtoons, puzzle games (picross, sudoku, etc), ultimate frisbee, tennis, hiking, traveling

Some funfacts & trivia about you:

-prefer crepes to pancakes

-don't leave me alone with a box of ice cream sandwiches for the love of-

-past key has cumulatively drawn 500+ comic pages over the years (and misses it dearly)

-used to play ice hockey, played for bout 12 years. stopped due to injuries.

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? ffxiv, zelda, tales of, undertale

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: ghost, haunter

How did you get into Fire Emblem? smash bros /j i think my bro acquired a copy of fe7 and the rest is history

What Fire Emblem games have you played? 6 through current

First Fire Emblem game: 7

Favorite Fire Emblem game: hrkkk probably 7 but super fond of sacred stones n path of radiance too

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳

lmao

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays?

- Awakening: mightve been chrom by accident n woulda been pissed about it. henry & gaius beloveds

- Fates: conquest- niles, birthright- azama, revelations- kaze

- Three Houses: was it claude or felix? idk but claude is def why i started w deer haha

- Engage: louis and lapis i married both that's my story and im sticking to it

Favorite Fire Emblem class: thief or mage

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class? probably an archer, or mage. miss me w close combat

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? hmm… i wanna say deer but probably beagles

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with? lyn. long distance pew pew goes brrrrr

How did you find TOA? kept seeing it on twitter from ol ferp mutuals and eventually caved

Current TOA muses: hector, matthew, azama

Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again? ewan. some days i think i could.

Have you had any other TOA muses? florina, henry

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards? prickly, maybe. in general muses that allow me to explore… ewan is more outgoing than i will ever be, but lets himself feel petty or jealous. hector is brash, but struggling with an uncomfortable and unexpected weight on his shoulders. azama invites conflict like he needs it to breathe, while ive typically been averse to conflict. florina is timid but trying to grow stronger for her friends (and herself, she comes to realize). henry is… an oddball, idk how to describe what draws me to writing him. change of pace maybe? requires thinking outside the box with his unique worldview. i dont tend toward angst but matthew is a good output for it if im feelin it haha.

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most? i think i like. when threads start to come together. yknow in stories when you can start referring to things that have happened? and you're like "woah wait i know what that's referring to!!"

when you manage to reach a shared history ig? i know im p slow re. writing but i cherish the bonds and overarching/intertwined stories my muses wind up with. people you meet touch your life in ways you might not immediately fathom…

Favorite TOA-related memory: lots of lock & key justice shenanigans… bunker … enjoyed unscripted a whole heck of a lot as well

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔 T-O-A. sounds fancier to spell it out haha

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day that you’d like to share? 😉 felix, ike, kaze, serra, sain, naesala, ingrid, eldigan, bramimond, lethe, shinon, kliff… not so much delusions as "might be fun to explore…" – and i wouldn't trade our current reps of the above for the world ✌️

[karatecaulfield]

Hi, may I have a ship for Cobra Kai & Outerbanks. I go by she/her and am bi with no preference so any gender is fine.

Ive been told I typically wear what would be considered 90s type of style but leaning away from more feminine things tho I’m not opposed to dresses and all. 

I do get pretty anxious when thrown in certain situations rather that be talking to a group of people or just one person. But on occasion and definitely when I get to know someone I never stop talking. I am a ranter and rambler which means I could be ranting about something that happened and then start talking about something else that may or may not be related to the original subject. Basically I will always find something to talk about though I do enjoy listening to other people talk. I am considered the mom friend because I tend to be the most logical. Im also a very determined, stubborn person who usually is kinda pessimistic but still has a huge imagination. And despite all the anxiety I am usually a relatively confident person and am not afraid to take up for anyone I care about. Also I am pretty good in school despite having a kinda bad memory. Also an INTJ, Sagittarius, and Ravenclaw. 

I absolutely love writing and have for the longest time. I also love drawing and painting (mostly art related to animals and the occasional landscape) I’ve also been a big music fan since I was a kid, I honestly dont know what I would do without it. I also really enjoy reading, I could spend hours getting consumed by whatever I’m reading. Which also travels into me when I’m watching things. As in I spend a good bit of time just binge watching new or old shows. I also really like walking around and enjoying nature. Theres a few nature trails I love going on and would go to the zoo every weekend if I had the chance. Also I do like going to random places with my friends. 

And thats about all I can think of to say, hope it wasnt too much lol. But anyways, thanks in advance :)

Robby Keene! I think that he would be really drawn to your overall vibe. He kind of likes a challenge when it comes to getting an s/o so I think he would like you being shy and first, then more open when you get to know him. It makes him feel special. He needs someone who is a good listener and falls more on the logical side of things because when he’s upset he can be a little impulsive. It would mean a lot if someone was there to talk him down from his anger. He would love to show you Miyagi-Do karate and help you connect to nature, but also help you connect with him in a way. While he would always be happy hearing about your books and music tastes, there’s just something about the outdoors that makes him feel more bonded with a person.

Sarah Cameron! I think she would love your style, and you’d be sharing clothes a lot. She’s the kind of s/o that would be great at talking you out of anxiety attacks, reminding you that you don’t always have to be the strong one. The two of you would have some really amazing, deep conversations together, which is something that would simply stay between you guys. Sarah would really encourage your artistic side, wanting to see every step of something that you’re working on even if it’s a long time from being finished. Being in Outerbanks is kind of hard unless you are one with nature, in terms of the ocean and things like that. She loves feeling connected to the water, and with you.

A/N- thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy, please feel free to request again if it isn’t what you were hoping for <3

[corditeheart]

"Thursday. This is the first time you've done more than eat a saltine and pass back out in like a week."

And a hellish week it's been, too; Xu has drawn on comparatively too little medical training from her cadet years than the situation really calls for, but he's not mostly dead in a hospital bed anymore, and it's minor in comparison to change out an IV bag of fluids every eight hours or so.

At least doing that, wiping off fever sweat, rolling him into the easy chair that she had dragged in from the living room long enough to change the sheets and his pajamas, and dumping him back into bed means she's doing something, instead of just sitting in a hard plastic chair, playing mobile triple triad and trying not to think about the fact that he might not make it out of the hospital alive.

Michele Xu does not like feeling useless and helpless, and because it was Zed, she hadn't even been allowed to join the investigation.

Distracted, too deeply personally involved. It's a lot of bullshit.

She takes away the tray, setting it on the floor, since the nightstand on his side of the bed is covered in a million prescription bottles, endless crumpled tissues, and half-full cups of water, and fishes out the thermometer, sticking it under his tongue.

"Hold still."

It beeps a moment later; the number is an improvement. Not perfect, but below triple digits. She disposes of the sterile cover, and sets the thermometer back down, instead pressing a cool palm against his still too-warm cheek.

"You scared the shit out of me, you know." She could joke about it, play it off. But being together this long has earned him honesty. Even if she doesn't quite make eye contact. "And you really need to get in the bath for a while; we're going to have to burn this mattress now that you've sweated straight through it."

"Hey, are you dead? If not, sit up a little."

Listen, Xu has never been accused of having a good bedside manner, and she's not about to start now.

"I made you soup." Technically, she dumped a can of premade soup in a pot and heated it up, but Zed's expression at the prospect of her cooking is really worth omitting that detail.

She settles herself on the edge of the bed, and plunks the tray across his lap, scaring off the cat in the process. "I'm not going to feed it to you, if that's what you're hoping for." -corditeheart

@corditeheart

"Thanks, babe," Zed murmurs, propping himself up on one elbow. He'd finally been sent home to continue his convalescence there, with Kadowaki's blessing. An unassuming trip to Dollet had resulted in some mysterious plague that knocked Zed sideways. They'd gone for a bit of business, and a bit of fun - the 'fun' bit being to attend fashion week, no less.

The last thing Zed remembered, was a model sashaying down the catwalk in platform heels - suddenly going deathly pale, and careening off the side. Zed had stood quickly and caught the model, saving her from falling; less than twenty-four hours later, he himself was spiking a fever, going into convulsions.

It was unclear how the outbreak started, but it seemed, strangely enough, that someone was targeting the models at Dollet's big fashion show. By the time Zed's vitals were steady once again and he seemed to be out of the woods, the body count was at five dead models.

Zed suddenly realized how hungry he was, and smiled; ignoring the soup spoon Xu had placed on the tray, he downed the soup in four big swallows, drinking directly from the bowl.

"That was good. When's the last time I ate anything? Feels like....it's been a while," Zed commented, squinting as he peered out the window next to the bed. "What day is it, anyway?" he continued, scratching his head and looking a bit befuddled.

[chickensarentcheap]

A Steve and Maizie drabble for @youflickedtooharddamnit.  Based on the prompt of rubbing comforting circles into someone’s skin.

Not my best work! I’m not used to writing short stuff lol.  But I hope you enjoy it :D 

I will also tag:  @tragiclyhip, @secretaryunpaid, @residentdormouse, @ninjasawakenedmystar, @munstysmind, @mostly-marvel-musings, @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet, @starryeyes2000​

*****

It’s been hours since any real progress.  No increase in contractions,  no dilation past six centimetres.  Under normal circumstances, a woman would have been released some time ago; things allowed to naturally unfold in the comforts of her own home.   But issues with mom and baby both remain;  fluctuations from extremely low to terrifying high heart rates that require constant monitoring and supervision.    So here he  remains;  parked in an uncomfortable bedside chair as Maizie attempts to rest.   Her weary body a playground for various medical equipment;  a fetal monitor attached to her stomach,  sensors continuously monitoring her heart rate and blood pressure,  IV lines delivering -through the needling piercing the top of her right hand- a mixture of  much needed hydration and a medication designed to speed up the labour process.  And while seeing her so ill and vulnerable has been extremely difficult, he’s refused to leave her side or even close his eyes;  brushing off the suggestions of food and drink or even a couple hours of sleep from well meaning nurses.

He can’t remember a time when  he’s felt this helpless.  Unable to render any sort of aid or comfort;  able to do little more than fetch glasses of ice water and wish for the difficulties to pass and the rest of the experience to go smoothly.  It’s the most worried and scared he’s ever been in his life. At least while NOT  under heavy doses of Phobica or Darkenfloxx.   His wife and son  both under enormous amounts of stress;  the latter’s life hanging more precariously in the balance.   It had taken him months to be fully accepting of welcoming a child into the world;  worried that his lack of positive experience to draw on would make him a horrible father.  He would try of course;  somehow manage to put his family above his work and give the attention and love that both mother and baby deserve.  The news that she’d been expecting hitting him hard and fast;  returning from the ‘dead’ after a three month sabbatical only to find out that he was going to be a father.  Lending a hand in creating a life; an innocent human being that had been conceived during the final weeks at Spiderhead; pinpointed to either the night before or the day that Heather had taken her own life.    

It scares him.   Fatherhood.   The realization that someone completely depends on him for even the most basic of needs.   The thought of having a little one in the house;  the incessant crying and the middle of the night feedings and the near constant attention it requires.   Perhaps he’s too selfish to successfully raise a child of his own;  unable to commit the  same kind of effort and passion and energy that he does into his work.   It still remains the most important thing of course; unable to provide for his wife and his child if he doesn’t devote everything he has into his science and his career.  And where would that leave them?  Separated from the lifestyle that they deserve;  a beautiful home in an idyllic setting and everything that could ever want and need at their fingertips. While not ideal,  It’s a necessity; putting his work above everything else.  One that his wife and eventually his children will become accepting and welcoming of.

Maizie mumbles in her sleep and then issues a long, drawn out sigh;  her eyes flickering open and a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth when she sees him sitting there. 

Reaching out, he places a hand on the top of her head and then leans forward in his chair and presses a kiss to her brow.  “How are you feeling? Are you okay?  Any pain?”

She shakes her head.  “I’m feeling alright.  I guess.  Just tired.  Really, really, REALLY tired.”

“You need to get as much rest as you can.   It’s going to be a long day.  I know this isn’t what you wanted.  Things going wrong.  But you’re in the best possible place, being taken care of by the best possible people. I made sure of that.”

Tears sparkle in her eyes. “It feels like he’s never going to come out. Like he’s going to be stuck in there forever.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen.  It’s scientifically impossible. For him to stay in there.”

“I just want everything to be okay.   I don’t want anything happening to him.   Everything’s gone so well until now. I don’t understand.  I did everything right. I…”

“It’s nothing you did. Or didn’t do.  These things happen, Maize. All the time.  Lots of women have perfectly healthy pregnancies and then they get to the part and complications arise.  But you’re doing fine.  And so he is.  You’re in good hands.”

“I’m scared.   I just want him to be alright.  I just want him out of there.  I just want to hold him and kiss him and…”

“And you WILL. I promise.  We’re past the worst of it. I’m sure of it.  It’s a good sign, yeah? That you were able to sleep.”

“I suppose. You’ve been here all this time?”

“Of course.”  He pecks her lips.  “Where else would I be?”

She reaches for his hand. “Don’t leave, okay? Just stay. I need you to stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures her, and laces his fingers with hers;  pressing a kiss to each knuckle before setting their joined hands on the mattress.   His gaze never leaving hers as the pad of his thumb rubs slow, comforting circles on the inside of her wrist. 

[hottpinkpenguin]

Hello! could I request a Druig imagine where he and the reader (an eternal with water powers) confess but then the whole group splits up and she didn't go with him and went off to be a teacher or something like that but then the snap and she went to find him because he was what she needed? (with a fluffy ending please) I love your writing! (I hope this makes sense)

A/n: this imagine has proven me physically incapable of restraint in my word count soooo apologies if its too long!! Also, full disclosure, i have only seen the movie once and although the general gist of the plot is accurate (hopefully) in this work, i know that the scene - particularly the Eternals breakup at Tenochtitlan - is not word for word accurate, but i tried my best & claim creative license for the rest. Hope you love it!!! Not gonna lie, i am vibing with Adva as an Eternal, so netflix if you’re reading this, gimme a call and we can do a spinoff tv show or whatever (uhm, rooney mara for Adva, anyone???)

The Power of Water - 1/4

Matchup: Druig (Eternals) x Fem!Eternals Reader w/ water powers (name Adva, Hebrew for small wave)

Continue reading: Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV

Warnings: violence, (mild) implied sex, Eternals spoilers

Chapter I: Tenochtitlan, 1521 AD

Adva sat in the moonlight on the edge of the river, letting the water rush over her submerged feet as she listened to the stories it had to tell. It was quiet to human ears - nothing but the soft sound of running water and the occasional sound of laughter drifting from the village in the distance. But Adva had felt a threat growing in the waters for the past few days. It had started several months ago, by the ocean, but it had been no more than whispers of a faceless threat. Recently, the threat had drawn closer and was beginning to take form. There were faces now - men’s faces, human men, clad in armor, with banners of amber and scarlet behind them. Weapons, too, ones that Adva hadn’t encountered previously in human conflicts; weapons that used fire and metal to kill from a distance.

Adva focused intently on the fractured images she could discern from the water. Luminous, golden waves covered her forearms and swirled around her wrists as she used her powers to pull the water’s stories into her mind. Her eyes were closed, but she was far from relaxed, her brow knitted in concern, splinters of fear working their way into her heart as more images flashed by.

The sound of a snapping twig somewhere in the forest behind her right shoulder interrupted her reverie. She wasn’t alone.

“Druig, no one likes a spy,” she called quietly from the riverbank.

Druig stepped out of the darkness of the underbrush, soaking in the sight of Adva bathed in moonlight from above, golden light from her powers as they radiated around her arms. Even after all these thousand years, she still caused his heart to skip a beat.

Adva opened her eyes, letting the water recede away from her and her powers dissolve into the night, as she stood to turn towards her fellow Eternal. He hesitated on the edge of the forest, unsure if she was inviting him forward or asking him to turn back.

Noticing his faltering step, Adva reached out a hand towards him. “Come here,” she encouraged, casting him a playful smile.

It had been nearly seven thousand years since Adva, Druig, and the rest of the Eternals had found their way to Earth. At first, the planet had been awash with calamity at nearly every turn. Deviants had run rampant for the first three thousand odd years, requiring near constant vigilance and battles from the Eternals to keep the fragile human race from collapsing into extinction. As the frequency and intensity of battles with Deviants had subsided, humanity had begun to hit its stride, which presented its own set of unique challenges as the Eternals sought to gently mold, encourage, and shape the future of Earth’s inhabitants.

Recently, however, humans had begun to shear away from the Eternals’ sculpting influence. Ajack had become increasingly forceful in her instructions not to interfere. Generally, the Eternals took little issue with stepping back; after all, they had earned rest after millenia of fighting. At first, Adva had relished the opportunity to explore the natural beauties of the Earth, places human eyes wouldn’t see for generations to come. But, as the frenzy of battles had worn off, Adva felt a tension growing in her fellowship, and in herself.

She knew Druig felt it too. Of all the Eternals, Druig had the most intimate connections to humanity by virtue of his powers. Stepping into their minds - or not stepping in, at times - came with a unique burden that he alone carried. The more time Adva spent with him, the more she saw this burden. And the more she worried for him. She couldn’t put it into words that suited her, but Adva felt a growing need to be close to Druig, to protect him. In the quietest corners of her heart, Adva already knew that she was in love with him, and likely had been from the very beginning. But living countless millennia - not even counting the ones that Adva couldn’t remember, the ones whose memories had been removed by Arishem after previous Emergences - had made Adva perplexingly out of touch with her heart's needs and wants.

Druig smiled, taking her hand in his as he joined her on the river bank, looking out across the water as the moon’s reflection danced across its surface. In the distance, Druig could hear snippets of the song that had broken out amongst the villagers. Tenochtitlan was in the midst of a Rain Festival, and there was an ebullient mood amongst the humans.

“What does it say?” he asked Adva, gesturing to the water. He sidled closer to her as she turned her back to him to look at the river. Her expression grew pensieve.

“I’m not sure…” she started, her lips tightening in worry. “Something’s coming… it’s not good. Other people, humans. They’ve got weapons I’ve never seen before…” Adva’s voice trailed off as she thought back to the images of the warriors she’d seen in the water. Druig remained silent next to her, both out of reverence for her thoughts but also because he was struck speechless by the image of the moon’s reflection dancing in her blue eyes. He took a silent inhale, breathing in her scent, which was a mixture of summer rain, fresh cotton, and a hint of citrus. As much as the words Adva spoke foretold of a coming threat, Druig found he couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything but her at the moment.

He let his breath out slowly, resolving to tell her of the feelings he’d been holding onto for the past thousand years. His heart sped up as he brought the words to his tongue.

“Adva,” he started, brushing her hair off her shoulder. She turned to him, the shadow of fear in her eyes not quite gone but slowly vanishing as she looked up at him. He noticed that she seemed to lean closer to him, her chin angled slightly upward as she held his eye contact. “There’s something that needs to be said…” Druig swallowed thickly, willing himself to keep focused in spite of the intense urge to close the distance between their lips.

“Yes?” Adva asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She certainly wasn’t making this easy on him.

Despite his best intentions, Druig found his mind giving itself over to his instincts. Instead of delivering the recited words he’d dwelled over since last winter, he found his hands coming to cradle her face, one sliding down her elegant neck as he pressed his lips to hers. For an agonizing moment, Adva remained frozen under his touch, and he felt certain that she’d recoil from him. But in the next instant, he felt her step into his embrace, pressing her body up the length of his, one of her hands entwining into the hair at the base of his neck, the other trailing lazy circles on the skin of his bicep, sending shivers all over his body. Their lips moved in unison, a shared sigh of relief to realize that the feelings each had were mutual.

After what felt both like an eternity in the making and not nearly long enough, they separated. All traces of anxiousness had left Adva, her face open in a grin as she giggled. Druig let his forehead connect with hers, joining her in laughter.

“What was it you wanted to say again?” she teased, breathless, causing Druig to laugh more.

“Can’t seem to think of it now,” he retorted, letting his hands fall to her waist as she leaned against him. The same moonlight glinted off the same river next to them, but it felt like a completely different world that they’d stepped into.

With a mischievous smirk, Adva looked up at Druig, hoping he could read her thoughts through her eyes. “Well, in that case, if you’re done talking, why don’t we find some other way to pass the time…”

Druig’s skin felt kissed by flames at the suggestion, an impatient coil starting to form deep in his gut, and an equally impish grin danced across his handsome features.

“Now that’s an idea…”

[wolferine]

Heart Skips a Beat - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood

Word Count: 1837

Part 1

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp

When Natasha sees your eyes close, she finally comes back to her senses. She squirms away from Steve, crawling under an ambulance and making her way towards you. She ignores Steve telling her to stay put and doesn’t hear Clint telling police officers the direction the bullets came from. All she can think about is bringing you to safety.

The ambulance engine is still running, causing its underside to reach temperatures that make Natasha feel like she is hiding in a furnace. She holds her breath from the fumes as she crawls to the front of the vehicle, throwing her arm out and reaching for your hand.

“Y/N!” she screams. “I’m right here! Hold on!” Her fingertips brush yours and she grabs onto your wrist tightly. You’re bigger and heavier than her, but the adrenaline gives her strength. With a massive heave, she drags you under the ambulance. You smear through the puddle of your own blood and it soaks through the back of your shirt. 

There isn’t even enough room for her to lift her head, but she grabs onto both your arms, digging her elbows into the ground and crawling backwards. “I got you, Y/N. I got you,” she pants. But the lack of space and your deadweight make it impossible for her to pull you all the way through, so she backs out from under the ambulance. “Steve, help me!” she shouts.

“Move!” Steve says to her, although his shoulders are too broad to fit in the narrow gap. However, his arms are long enough to reach both of your hands, and all it takes is one big tug for you to come sliding out from the ambulance. 

Your eyes fly open suddenly, awakened by the agonizing pain coursing through your shoulder like a lightning bolt. You scream, and as much as it makes Natasha’s heart hurt, she’s glad to see that you’re still alive. 

“You guys need to get out of here right now!” Clint yells. “Take the ambulance!”

Steve pulls you into a standing position and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you onto his shoulders effortlessly. You flop over him like a ragdoll, pain pulsing in your stomach when you bump against his chest.

BOOM.

A bullet shatters the sideview mirror of the ambulance.

“Go, go!” Natasha urges, putting herself between the danger and you and Steve. Steve runs with you to the back of the ambulance and flings the door open. There is no gurney, so Natasha helps him lay you on the floor and climbs in after you.

“Stay with Y/N. I’ll drive,” Steve offers, going around to the front. “Clint, we’re taking Y/N to the Quinjet! Hold the scene down!”

“Copy that!” Clint is just as concerned for your safety, but he knows you’re in good hands. Steve jumps into the driver’s seat and throws the ambulance in reverse.

BOOM.

The windshield explodes.

“Let’s go!” Natasha screams, ducking her head.

“Hold on!” Steve backs into a sharp U-turn. The tires screech as they find traction on the road to accelerate forward.

Natasha practically lays on top of you to prevent you from rolling around. From a shelf, she grabs a handful of gauze packets, tearing them open with her teeth. She rips your shirt open and presses the gauze first to your shoulder, then another to the side of your stomach. You’re completely soaked in blood and it continues to pump out of you with each heartbeat. Your face has faded to a sickly pale. 

“N-Nat,” you whisper, trying to move but pinned down by the pain. “N-Nat—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” she comforts. “Just keep your eyes open for me, okay?”

You see the blood smeared on her face, her neck, and her hands, too delirious to remember that it’s yours. “A-Are you h-hurt?” you stammer.

Natasha wants to laugh and cry at the same time. You’re so in love with her that even in the face of death you don’t even think about yourself. “No, I’m fine,” she says, grabbing onto your hand and interlocking your fingers. She looks over at Steve, veering through parked cars and roadblocks. “Can we hurry it up a little?” she asks in panic, even though she knows he’s driving as fast as he can.

“I’m trying!” Steve swerves around a fire hydrant and the sudden movement jolts everyone in the ambulance. Natasha presses down on you too hard and you grunt in pain.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”

Your vision fades into fuzzy shapes and blurred colors. Even breathing seems to be too much of a task for you. Steve parks behind the Quinjet and comes around to help carry you in.

“Do you need me to go with you?” Steve asks as he lays you across the back seats of the Quinjet.

“No.” Natasha shakes her head. “Stay and help Barton.”

Steve doesn’t even try to argue. “We’ll find who did this, Nat. I promise.” He goes to the controls at the front and presses a few buttons. “The coordinates for the Tower are set. You’ll autopilot all the way there. Just make sure to update the medical team on Y/N’s condition.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Everything will be okay.” He places his hand on Natasha’s shoulder for a moment before jogging back to the ambulance. As soon as he’s off the Quinjet, the door raises shut and the engines blast on. You’re several states away from New York, but at the speeds the plane can travel, you should be there in minutes. You just have to hang on until then.

Natasha leaves your side only to grab more gauze, pressing it against your bullet wounds to slow the bleeding. She rolls you to your side so there’s no pressure on your front or back, but grimaces when she sees that your back looks as bad as your front.

“N-Nat,” you try whispering again, but she is quick to shush you.

“Not now, okay? Just stay awake for me, Y/N.”

You’ve never felt so weak before. It feels like you were hit by a bus and ground up by its tires. Your mind processes in slow-motion—probably a side effect of the blood loss—and you already forgot how you got into the Quinjet. But the physical pain isn’t your greatest concern anymore. You just don’t want to lose your fight and leave her.

Natasha fits an oxygen mask around your face and the cool air is comforting, but you know your time is ticking away. You don’t notice the Quinjet hiss to a landing or acknowledge the team of doctors suddenly hovering over you.

“We’ll do the surgery in room six!”

“Prep a blood transfusion!”

“Two gunshot wounds from a large-caliber gun!”

The doctors move you to a gurney and wheel you off the Quinjet. Natasha holds onto your hand as they take you to the surgery room, but a doctor stops her from entering with you.

“No, Romanoff. You gotta stay out here. We’ll take it from here.”

Natasha doesn’t fight back, letting your fingers slip through hers as you disappear behind the doors.

***********************************************************************

“Any updates?” Clint and Steve finally arrive a few hours later, but you’re still in surgery.

“Not yet.” Natasha paces the kitchen anxiously. Although she found the time to wash your blood off her hands and face, she hasn’t changed out of her uniform yet.

“Nat, you should get cleaned up. Y/N isn’t going anywhere,” Clint says.

“I know, I just…I want to be there when—” She can’t finish her sentence, falling into Clint’s arms and crying into his shoulder.

“Y/N is a fighter, remember?” Clint says, rubbing her back.

“But the amount of blood—”

“Super soldiers don’t go down easy,” Steve reminds her. “Y/N will pull through. And besides, you’ll be there to help with the recovery.”

Natasha nods, pulling away from Clint and wiping her face. “I’m sorry I froze when I saw Y/N get shot—”

“What are you apologizing for?” Clint asks.

“I don’t know—I put you all in danger because I couldn’t get myself out of the way—” she hiccups. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve assures. “In fact, you were the one who dragged Y/N to safety, remember? I couldn’t fit under the ambulance and Clint was just sitting around like a duck—”

“Excuse you,” Clint interrupts, and Natasha smiles thinly.  

“So, did you find who did this?” she asks.

“Uh—” Clint and Steve look at each other awkwardly. “Natasha, we—”

“Did you find them?” Natasha repeats with more force. Clint motions for Steve to explain.

“That’s the thing,” Steve says. “We don’t know who did this. We scoped out the whole area with the police. We went out more than a mile, but we couldn’t find anything. No shell casings, nothing.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me a ghost shot and tried to kill Y/N?” Natasha scoffs.

“No, we…” Steve tries to find the right words. “We think it was a setup, maybe like a hired assassin or something.”

“Who would want to kill Y/N?” Natasha asks.

“That’s what we need to figure out.”

Natasha knows you have a lot of baggage from your past, particularly when you were forced into illegal covert operations by the government. But it’s been a long time since then. You became your own person and changed your life for the better. Unfortunately, not everyone sees the side of you that Natasha and the Avengers do.

When Clint and Steve leave to shower and change, Natasha finally does the same. She dresses in clean clothes and curls up on your shared bed, inhaling your scent through the pillow and blankets.

Sometime later, Clint visits and knocks on the door. “Hey, Nat? Y/N just got out of surgery—” He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence and is almost run over by Natasha as she hurries over to the medical bay. She doesn’t know which specific room they’re keeping you in, but it’s like she’s drawn to your very presence and finds the correct one instantly.

You lie upright in the bed, propped forward with pillows so there’s less pressure on your back. Your right arm is in a sling and your entire torso is wrapped in bandages. An IV drip leads into the veins on your hand, while a blood pouch sends blood into the vein inside of your elbow. You have an oxygen tube up your nose and looped around your ears.

“I heard the doctor went a little overboard on the anesthesia,” Clint says from behind Natasha, startling her. “You know, with the super soldier serum and everything. Y/N will probably be out of it for a while.” Natasha walks to your side and kneels, gently taking your hand. Your skin is clammy and colder than normal, but your pulse beats strongly.

“I’ll be here as long as it takes.” Natasha raises your hand, mindful of the wires around your wrist, and kisses your fingers.

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

Click here for Part 3!

AN: Thanks for the amazing support from everyone! Definitely didn’t think I’d get that kind of response, but I’m extremely grateful for you all. The next part will reveal the identity of the shooter, so I hope you’ll stick around for that. :) Peace out!

[the-last-kenobi]

Most of your fics absolutely destroyed me emotionally so, on my own risk, may I request #13 “You shouldn’t be this easy to carry" with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi-Wan? Thank you!

Ohhh I’m happy to write this one! Thank you! (Always pleased to hear I’ve emotionally wrecked innocent people lol)

From this various prompts list.

_

Qui-Gon descended the ramp of his ship with something less than his usual grace, his expression was rather sour. Other than that, he looked his usual self, untidy but comfortable and serene.

He waved to the attendant heading towards the ship, and bowed to a small mechanic droid that squeaked with excitement, ran in circles around him, and then darted off after the attendant.

Qui-Gon chuckled. He paused to take a deep breath, tasting the metallic scent of Coruscant on the air, but also the warm and familiar notes of the Temple, of home. It was good to be back. Tedious diplomatic assignments that ran well overtime were nothing worth dwelling on, especially when it was done alone.

“Master Jinn!” a warm voice called.

He turned his head and saw Shaak Ti walking towards him, a smile on her lovely face with its striking colors.

“Knight Ti,” he greeted her. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” she answered. “I’m just about to depart to Alderaan; it’s a royal wedding and I’m the token Jedi invitee,” she informed him, but there was no offense in her voice. Alderaan was well known to be genuinely welcoming, and had been more than courteous in their dealings with the Order for centuries on end.

“Enjoy it,” Qui-Gon advised her. “Weddings are rarely something you’d like to miss.”

“I will,” she promised. “Oh, is your Padawan around? I was hoping to catch him when he returned, he forgot to sign off on his departure notice and was scheduled for three shifts in the crèche, which he obviously missed.”

Qui-Gon’s head tilted to one side, and he frowned.

It was obvious that Shaak Ti believed that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on his mission, which had in fact been a solo assignment. The twenty-one-year-old Padawan had remained behind for class rotations.

And Obi-Wan had never missed... well, anything. He was notoriously early for everything, beyond punctual. It was almost annoying.

Perhaps he’d finally slipped into a belated teenage fit of laziness, or he’d fallen so behind on class work that he’d forgotten about the crèche. Both would be extremely out of character, but one instance of this in nearly nine years of training could perhaps be excused.

Shaak Ti was waiting for an answer.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised, revealing nothing. “Thank you for letting me know. I had no idea.”

She waved it off. “These things happen. You have a good student on your hands; he’s easily forgiven.”

Qui-Gon smiled.

~

The door to their quarters opened for him with a casual wave of the hand. Jedi did not lock their doors often; privacy was an understood thing, something not casually breached. No Jedi would enter another’s rooms without first asking permission.

He wasn’t sure what he expected.

Obi-Wan in the common area, reading.

Or Obi-Wan out and about, somewhere off with some of his more trouble making friends. (Quinlan Vos.)

He was not expecting to find Obi-Wan huddled in the corner of their kitchenette, half-hidden in his cloak, knees drawn up under his chin, crying.

Obi-Wan saw him enter and flinched away, shuddering.

Qui-Gon stared.

The entire scene was so unexpected, so wrong, that for a full five seconds he simply stood there, unable to process it. Obi-Wan had buried his face in his knees and was attempting to stifle his tears, seemingly by holding his breath, which was only making him shake harder.

Qui-Gon jolted out of his paralysis and stepped nearer, dropping onto one knee, sensing that looming over his Padawan was not going to help.

“Padawan?” he asked cautiously.

Obi-Wan looked up reluctantly. His face was a sickly grey; his cheeks were bright red and his blue eyes were feverish. They darted around, seeming to fix on nothing.

“Obi-Wan,” the Master tried again, warily reaching out a hand and resting it on top of one of Obi-Wan’s, clenched around his knee.

Obi-Wan took a rattling breath, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “...What... day is it...?” he gasped.

Qui-Gon’s chest tightened with something close to terror. What in all the galaxy was going on here?

“It’s the 29th,” he said gently. “Taungsday. I returned a day late from my solo mission. Do you remember that?”

Obi-Wan’s tears had increased throughout the brief speech. “Y-yes.”

“All right,” said Qui-Gon, struggling to remain as calm and patient as possible. “All right. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression crumbling. Suddenly he very much resembled the boy Qui-Gon had met on Bandomeer, uncertain and frightened, although even then he had not cried. This was different.

“Are you sure?” Qui-Gon pressed.

Obi-Wan nodded, strangling a loud sob by clapping one hand over his mouth. He said something, but of course it was impossible to understand behind his clamped fingers.

“What?” asked his Master.

“...so...stupid,” Obi-Wan burst out angrily through his tears. “I just... don’t feel well.”

“Don’t feel well?” Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice in confusion. “You’re sick? Obi-Wan, why didn’t you just go to the Halls?”

Obi-Wan shuddered. More tears slid down over his flushed cheeks. “I...I...I fell,” he said, sounding deeply uncertain. “I was working, and it was late, and I fell. I think I fell. I can’t walk. I can barely move. I don’t know how long it’s been—”

Qui-Gon was already moving, alarm ringing in his head like sirens. In two seconds he had Obi-Wan in his arms, cradled like a child, his head resting under Qui-Gon’s chin.

“You shouldn’t be this easy to carry,” he said tensely. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink since you fell?”

“Some... some water,” Obi-Wan murmured. His skin was blazing hot against Qui-Gon’s, a sick and feverish heat. He had stopped crying — his tears seemed to have stemmed from a combination of confusion and shame, not pain — but he seemed on the verge of passing out. “I... I got some water... don’t remember when...”

“Stay awake,” Qui-Gon ordered. He was striding down the hallways, ignoring the few bystanders who watched them pass with bewilderment and concern. He did send a grateful nod to one young woman who raised her comm in her hand at him, asking a silent question, and at his gesture raised it to her lips and murmured ‘Tell the Healers that Master Jinn is bringing in his Padawan. Have someone ready.’

Obi-Wan murmured something vague.

“Stay awake,” insisted Qui-Gon. “Don’t fall asleep.”

Obi-Wan moaned but nodded, forcing his eyes to stay open. “I...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” The words came out harsh and insincere in Qui-Gon’s urgency, and he realized it, because he dropped a swift kiss to the top of the fevered head in apology. Obi-Wan relaxed ever so slightly.

They arrived in the Halls of Healing and were immediately received by a Healer and his apprentice, who had Obi-Wan safely tucked in a bed and monitored in less than two minutes. Obi-Wan had closed his eyes against the bright light and seemed in danger of falling asleep again.

“Stay awake just a little longer, Padawan Kenobi,” the Healer instructed kindly. “I’m fairly sure of your diagnosis but I have to be more certain before I can administer treatment. Then you can sleep.”

“Yes, Healer,” rasped the young man.

Qui-Gon watched from the wall, his hands tucked deep in his sleeves to hide how they trembled. The shock of the last quarter hour was setting in, and he scrambled to keep his wits about him, worried about what this diagnosis might be. He still remembered Obi-Wan’s confusion about the day, his bewildered tears, and that memory was not going to be going away anytime soon.

He had been far too light in his arms.

Just how long had Obi-Wan been trapped in their rooms, unable to call for help and too confused to figure out a way around that? How long had he gone without eating and sleeping?

He found out.

An hour later, Obi-Wan was fast asleep, hooked up to an IV and blissfully pain-free due to a dose of pills he had managed to swallow. The Healer turned to Qui-Gon with a weary smile.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve just returned from a mission, but I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s good to know. I was asking about shock, however,” the Healer said gently. “I know this can’t have been a pleasant homecoming.”

Qui-Gon’s throat tightened, but he said nothing.

The Healer seemed to understand. “Obi-Wan has contracted a strain of the flu,” he explained, moving past the brief surge of emotion. “As you know, most strains of the flu are easily combated these days and many species have evolved or inoculated to the point where it’s hardly a concern. But sometimes the flu is stronger. In this case, it’s clear that it’s job was made easy. I don’t think Padawan Kenobi was eating or sleeping properly before the sickness began to set in. It would explain the severity of his malnutrition, and his confusion.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes flickered to the bed where Obi-Wan was sleeping, the fever still burning in his cheeks.

“...How long?” he asked.

“A few days at most,” the Healer said. “But I suspect it’s a habit that’s related to stress and overwork. Does Obi-Wan struggle with stress or insomnia?”

The Master hesitated a moment, opening his mouth to deny it, and then stopping to think better of it.

“...Maybe,” he admitted. The hesitation stung. Shouldn’t he know? “He’s very private with his habits when we’re in Temple. He prefers to study alone in his room, and we usually only manage to share one meal a day during his busier semesters, if that.”

The Healer nodded. He didn’t look or sound at all accusatory when he said, “That’s understandable. I’m going to suggest keeping a closer eye on that. Don’t force him out of his comfort zone, at least not right away, but make sure he understands that three square meals — or better yet, a light meal or snack every two or three hours — is expected of him. As is sleep.”

Qui-Gon nodded, his throat tightening again to the point of pain.

“Rest easy, Master Jinn,” said the Healer, briefly laying a supportive hand on the taller Jedi’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through this. The illness, and everything else. I believe it’s nothing more than a bad habit formed from good intentions. There are crueler demons out there.”

“Yes, I know,” said Qui-Gon. And he did know. One didn’t reach Jedi Mastery without learning the galaxy for what it was.

But he didn’t think he would ever quite move past the shock of today, of carrying his adult apprentice in his arms, sick to the point of tears and helplessness, and then discovering that he could possibly have prevented this if he had paid a little more attention to Obi-Wan’s work habits.

Well. They would, as the Healer said, overcome this.

Qui-Gon drew up a chair to the side of the bed, resolving to wait until Obi-Wan woke, and slowly reached out and set his hand next to his Padawan’s. After a moment, Obi-Wan stirred, and even in his sleep he gave a contented sigh and shifted his hand, his fingers searching blindly for his Master’s hand. Qui-Gon took it and held it tightly.

They had overcome so many things in nearly a decade together.

They could handle this.

And besides, Qui-Gon told himself, even after Obi-Wan was Knighted, he would always be here to watch his back.

He would never abandon Obi-Wan.

_

[cellydawn]

sans IS gaster (OR the sans theory masterpost pt. 2)

Part 1 || ❤️ || Part 3

(drawn by me, color by @magenteel​)

Previously, we discussed: Sans and his hand in the destruction of a world, his connection to Ice-E and Deltarune, and how he relates to Gaster. We’re going to continue the thread we left off on.

Section III - Gaster (Cont.)

Snails are mentioned too many times throughout Undertale for them to not be of any significance. As it turns out, they are pretty important in unraveling the mystery behind Gaster and Sans.

When you enter the area with Napstablook’s snail farm, you’ll notice that Sans’s theme is playing despite him not making an appearance. 

In one of Papyrus’s phone calls, he mentions that Sans recently bought snail-shaped pasta and says “He’ll probably fill them with hotdogs and slime.” Toriel also owns a book called “72 User for Snails”. Track 72 in the Undertale OST is “Song That Might Play When You Fight Sans”. That’s multiple times that Sans is likened to snails. 

Snails belong under the taxonomic class Gastropoda. Gasterpods.

These long pauses between words and phrases are not unlike how Gaster speaks.

Here is Gaster speaking with us in the opening sequence of Deltarune. And...

Now. Let’s move on.

(More under the cut.)

Mus_smile is the track that plays in room_gaster. This is my personal opinion, but the character that is the most strongly associated with smiles is Sans.

And Sans is certainly intelligent enough to be the prime suspect for being Gaster. The proper name for his namesake is Comic Sans Microsoft, or Comic Sans MS. MS can also be used as a suffix for the name of a person who has a degree in a Master of Science.

Sans also owns quantum physics books. The subject of Gaster’s scientific research is revealed in Entry #17: “photon readings negative”. Photons are described as a "quantum" of electromagnetic energy, and are of course within the realm of study under quantum physics.

Gaster, like Sans, is brilliant yet slow-working. Slower than Alphys, who is repeatedly noted to have nothing to show yet as the royal scientist in the eyes of the people and is shown to slack off constantly.

Gaster is implied to have perished, and I suppose he did, in a way, if these speculations do end up being correct. However, there’s something more to this statement. Ghosts are sort of in the realm of being not-alive, and Sans and Napstablook have a surprising level of comparability.

They both:

Get likened to “garbage”

Have connections to snails (Napstablook runs the snail farm)

Speak completely in lower case

Pretend to sleep and say “Z’s” out loud

Have black “sclera”

And the black sclera is also a topic of its own; it’s equated with the status of being brought back to life. Being “determined”. (See: Asriel and Undyne)

Undyne is especially suspect due to the strange right-eye-phenomenon she has in common with Sans, with spears shooting out of hers. Spears that are actually colored light blue, not unlike Sans’s eye. 

To recap: 

Sans and Gaster are heavily involved in Deltarune

They have been displaced from time and space

They have connections to snails

They are both doctors with knowledge in quantum physics

They both “fell” into the abyss

They both talk similarly

They are both slow

They are both characterized by their smile

They are both some degree of dead

Sans is Gaster or a significant piece of him. Sans has Gaster Blasters because they belong to him. If all prior conjecture proves true, he is and will be responsible for the destruction of a world or THE world within Deltarune. After all, the Latin definitions of “gaster” and “sans” are to destroy and to be without, respectively. 

That brings us to the next subject: why is Sans Sans? More specifically, why is that his name? Why even change his name?

Below is the Japanese version of the fun event with Sans’s phone call. It features completely different dialogue from its English counterpart. 

Am I Licca-chan? (Select No) Then from now on call me Sans. I need to check every once in a while. I won’t know when my name has changed. 

“Licca-chan” is a well-known Barbie-esque dress-up doll in Japan, so popular to the point where it is even used as a synonym for other dolls from different companies. Perhaps it implies that Sans is adaptable due to Licca-chan’s nature as a doll and how she is in a constant state of change to reflect the times. It also seems to be a pun on “liquor” because Sans was talking about beer in the English version. I tried to scour the Japanese fandom for clues, but they also seemed stumped. If anyone has any ideas on what this could mean, please let me know!

Regardless, “Sans” doesn’t seem to be his actual name. Perhaps his true name was Gaster...?

Additionally, If the player changes the name of the fallen child via going into the code, this message appears in the stats menu. The vernacular is very Sans-like, with his frequent use of question tags at the end of his sentences (I counted 14 huh’s from Sans).

Finally, let’s talk about the number six. We know that it’s Gaster’s number--All of the explicitly Gaster-related fun events trigger for fun values in the sixties, Gaster’s stats are all comprised of 6′s, Gaster’s “typer-value” is 666--you get the idea.

The concept art Toby drew for the Alarm Clock’s character screen features what is presumably Sans and the number six.

“The Choice”--the track that plays during Sans’s judgements--is “Undertale” slowed down by 666%.

Section IV - Angels and Demons (The “Why”)

In modern day culture, 666 is closely associated with the devil. The Book of Revelation (13:17-18) asserts that 666 is “the number of a man�� (this is important, and we’ll come back to it later) and is “the number of the Beast”. The Beast is mentioned as “coming out of the abyss”. 

Sounds a lot like someone else we know, doesn’t it? And how fitting for Sans, the one who judges our sins and demands us “to burn in hell”.

But if we go further, the Beast of Revelation is described to have seven heads representing seven kings. The beast itself is an eighth king who is of the seven and "was and is not and shall ascend out of the bottomless pit, and go into perdition." 

Chara is an eighth of the seven fallen children. 

There’s something Chara, Sans, and Gaster all share, and it’s their association with demons.

Here is an excerpt from the Cutting Room Floor:

Among the four strings in version 1.0, the last one, designated by variable “demond”, stands out for two reasons. 

 The letter “d” is separate from the other letters denoting the demon variables--the rest, “x”, “y”, and “z” are in sequential alphabet order.

The speech pattern of the last string is different from the others. It has that signature question tag at the end of the sentence that a certain character is known for.

In version 1.001, the strings clearly reflect Chara’s speech pattern. This time, all the variables are in sequential order from “a” to “d”. 

Pieces of dialogue at the near-end of a genocide route from Chara and Sans. Recall that Chara is using the same “Now” from earlier with Gaster and Sans.

Chara makes a reference to Banana Yoshimoto's book “Kitchen”. Take note of the page number.

Chara is also linked to the number nine. It’s the highest achievable stat in-game. It’s the stat of the locket and real knife. It’s how much damage Chara deals. It’s also the number six flipped upside down. 

The connections are undeniable. 

And yet, it goes further. Let’s take a look at how Christmas comes in to play.

In Deltarune, there are a few references to it, the most foremost probably being the importance of Noelle Holiday as a character. We also get Lancer’s laugh and the joke with “Krismas”.

Back to Undertale, there is significant Christmas iconography represented by “Gyfmas” and Gyftrot (bearing a strong resemblance to Photoshop Flowey, the DT Extractor, and Gaster Blasters).

What I’d like to focus on is Santa.  Papyrus describes him as “a chubby, smiling man who loves to surprise people.” From the thank you note addressed to Santa we find in Sans’s room, we can assume that Sans is a Santa, at least to Papyrus. It’s pretty fitting, since Sans can be described as someone who “knows if [we’ve] been bad or good”. Maybe he can even tell if we’re sleeping or awake with how the Dark World appears to be linked with sleep and dreams (please read my theory on Sans being a Darkner for more on this).

So we can reasonably conclude that Sans presents himself as a friendly, child-oriented figure, in-line with the nature of Comic Sans, a font for children, and Ice-E, a mascot of a company marketed towards children.

…

Santa is an anagram of Satan. 

…

To recap: Gaster’s association with the number 666 marks him as a “demon”. Chara and Sans are also called demons and similarly have connections to the number 6. This is more evidence that Gaster and Sans is or used to be the same people, and Chara has some form of correspondence with them.

I failed to mention before that there is actually a second Beast of Revelation “from the Earth” with "two horns like a lamb”. From the “earth” like Flowey, with horns like Asriel. 

Asriel is most likely the “Angel” depicted in the prophecy within the scope of Undertale; he’s named similarly to Azrael, an angel of death, and one of his attacks is literally called “Angel of Death”. He also bears a striking resemblance to the Deltarune in his God of Hyperdeath form.

Surprise, surprise, he and Sans also share parallels. 

Let’s start with their introductions. “Flowey the flower”. “Sans the skeleton”. It’s a similarly alliterative greeting and they’re both using fake names.

Mirrored dialogue yet again...

…and similar meta-commentary.

These three characters--Sans/Gaster, Chara, and Flowey/Asriel--they have all fallen. Gaster fell into his creation. Chara fell into the Underground. Asriel had “fallen down”. (Sans and Papyrus are also the only sibling pair other than Chara and Asriel. I won’t talk about Papyrus in this part though because this thing is shaping up to be too long already.)

What does this mean for Sans? I have a personal theory.

Above the entryway of the Judgement Hall, there is a reversed Deltarune. The triangles are inverted and the wings are more bat-like. In the room where only Sans appears, the same room that plays a version of “Undertale” slowed down 666%.

I think Sans is a candidate for the Angel prophesized to destroy the world in Deltarune. I think he is Sans Serif, a seraph. He fell into his experiment and became a “fallen” angel, a demon. 

The Angel’s Heaven mentioned alongside, on the other hand...  Heaven can also be used to refer to God. Dog is an anagram of God. 

Sans has many, many connections with dogs, especially one Annoying Dog. More on this next time.

Part 1 || ❤️ || Part 3

[moonknightly]

and you keep me holding on : santiago garcia x reader (nine)

Word Count: 2.3k+

Excerpt: “He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.”

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, cursing, uhhh I think that’s it?

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

OCTOBER FIFTH — DAY TWO

Santi isn’t sure who calls her parents, but they’re in the waiting room the next morning and while he knows that they have every right to be there, he wishes that they would just go away. Her mother is already talking about taking her “home” the second she’s released from the hospital.

He doesn’t have the energy to fight with them yet, doesn’t know how to tell her grieving parents that her home is with him. She belongs with him, he’ll take care of her.

But then again, he’s already failed once.

Maybe she won’t feel safe with him anymore.

Maybe she won’t feel safe in the new apartment, she won’t recognize it. Sure, she’ll look around and see familiar furniture, some pictures and the duvet she’d picked out herself. Nevada. Maybe she’ll smell Santi’s cologne in the air or the stench from the cigarettes he smokes when things get just a little too hard, but it’ll all be in a space that’s entirely new.

Did he make the right decision? Should he have stayed at the last place?

No. No, he doesn’t think that would’ve been smart either.

Maybe she does need to go with her parents, back to the house she grew up in, where her room hasn’t been touched since she was in high school and everything is familiar.

But then she says his name in her sleep, and he knows that he’s not going to be able to let her go.

He knows he can take care of her. He’ll do it right this time, he’ll never let a damn thing happen to her ever again.

So Santi shuts it down the moment her mother brings it up again, and he’s surprised that her father actually sides with him on it. It doesn’t turn into an argument like he thought it would and he’s beyond thankful for that.

She stays asleep for most of the day, only waking up for a little while at a time, and when she does, she refuses to take her eyes off of Santi. It only serves as further confirmation that she needs him, he’s the right decision.

Jay offers to stay with them for a while, thinking maybe they’ll both feel better with another set of eyes, a little added protection, and at first Santi shakes his head — he feels guilty for some reason, he doesn’t know exactly why but he feels like it’s too much.

But then she has a nightmare, and he watches as Jay immediately reaches out and touches her cheeks to let her know she’s not alone, she’s safe and they’re right there. Santi’s positive that Jay has noticed that he hasn’t touched her yet, and he also knows that she probably needs someone who will be able to give her physical reassurance when she wants it.

So he caves, only if Jay will take his bed while he crashes on the couch and of course Jay says no.

But it’s not something they really have to worry or argue about right then.

She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

OCTOBER SIXTH — DAY THREE

Every single news channel has been covering her return just as much, if not more, as her disappearance. They’re still looking for Nathan, but Santi’s sure they’ll never find him. Not anytime soon, at least.

He didn’t know if he’d dumped her with the intention of her being found alive or dead, but either way he has to know she’s been found and that they’re looking for him again with the same amount of ferocity as they had been when she first went missing. He hates to think about that, how after just a few months everything just seemed to die down for everyone else but those in his little circle, and even then sometimes he felt like the only one who still cared.

Santi shakes his head and pushes those thoughts away.

Her. He just needs to focus on her.

They’d gotten her temperature up, and the cocktail of medicine they’d been pushing for the last three days seem to be doing their job. Her scans all came back clear, no damage to her heart or brain. All in all, she’s responding well to treatment.

She’s still confused though, still disorientated whenever she wakes up but the doctors assure Santi that it’s completely normal and to be expected. He’d asked them how long it would take for her to become lucid and coherent, and they hadn’t really been able to give him an answer.

Could be a few days, could be another week.

But it’s okay, she needs to rest. She needs to rest and Santi needs to get a fucking grip on himself so he can be there for her when she’s finally fully conscious again.

He thinks the nurses have started to notice that he’s keeping his distance, and that they’ve been setting him up to touch her in small ways that he can never really say no to.

“Can you fix her blanket for me?”

“Hold her hand up while I replace the bandage on her IV?”

“Help me slide her over?”

He always does what’s asked of him, but his fingers never linger and he’s managed to do it all without directly touching her skin so far. The sweatshirt she’s in is good for more than just keeping her warm.

But still, he doesn’t really count it as touching her. Direct contact with her body isn’t something he can even imagine right now because he still wants to cry every time he pulls away from her, and he’s only touching a fucking piece of clothing she’s wearing.

Santi needs to get his shit figured out.

It’s not fair to her, not in the least.

So at three in the morning, when he knows it’s going to be another hour before her morning labs are drawn, when he knows that there won’t be a single person in to bother them until then, he gets out of the chair he’s been living in and moves to sit on the end of her bed.

She stirs, and the panic in her eyes is immediate. Her fingers tighten around the blanket and she looks like she’s getting ready to scream or cry out.

He hates it. He hates causing it even though he knows that he’s not really the reason behind it.

He clears his throat and whispers her name, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering.

She blinks, his voice clearly registering in her head though she still looks confused and unsure, but the terror melts away. She knows this is someone safe, someone that she can trust and someone who isn’t going to hurt her. She’s safe.

“Stay.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

She shakes her head and closes her eyes again. “You always leave.”

He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.

It breaks his heart.

“You’re not dreaming sweetheart. You’re okay.”

She shakes her head again.

“I’m right here,” he repeats, taking a deep breath before he reaches his hand out, but he stops when he’s only an inch away.

There’s no heat radiating from her, and if he wasn’t standing there watching her breathe he’d be thinking the worst.

It finally hits Santi just how small and fragile she is.

And now he feels like if he touches her, he’ll break her.

He pulls his hand back.

He’ll try again tomorrow.

OCTOBER SEVENTH — DAY FOUR

It’s cold and dark and his voice is coming from all around her. He’s calling her name, threatening her with things that she tries so hard to block out but they still creep into her mind, filling her with even more panic and dread as she’s left to think about what he’s going to do to her once he finds her.

Nathan calls it “The Game”.

He gives her a thirty second head start, tells her to run as far and as fast as she can, and if she can get away, she’s free. She can go home.

But if he catches her, his twisted words become a reality. He’ll keep her chained up for a few days, or maybe it’s a couple weeks or even a month, she’s never really sure but then the cycle repeats.

And he always catches her, always. No matter how sure she is that she’s finally escaped, he’s always right there to pin her to the ground and have his way with her. He’s always there to crush her hope and what little faith she’s able to gain back in those brief moments of thinking she’s free.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind enough to focus. She needs to get moving.

She looks down to figure out which way she had come and there’s snow. She hates snow. She used to love it, back when her and Santi would go for walks around Christmas time, hot cocoa in hand with their arms linked together. She wonders if he’s put the tree up this year. She wonders if Christmas has already passed.

But per usual, that happy thought of Santiago is ripped away from her when she hears Nathan’s voice again, this time only closer. Her skin crawls.

She has to start running. She knows she’s not as fast as she used to be, she’s too weak, but she has to try.

God, she hates snow.

She never stands a chance. It’s always so easy for Nathan to follow her tracks, and it always feels like there are tiny little needles stabbing into her bare feet with each step she takes, but she doesn’t allow herself to feel it in the moment, no. She never thinks about the pain until The Game is over, because of course she’ll take that moment of pain in trade for freedom. She’ll take those pins in needles if it means she’s just one step closer to getting away.

She thinks she might have it this time. Nathan’s voice is far off again, and she can see something in the distance. A road, maybe.

Yes, a road. That was definitely a car zooming past.

She runs faster, that familiar hope blossoming in her chest. She’s so close, so so close. Just a few more yards-

But then there’s crushing weight on top of her, and rough hands grabbing at her hips and she doesn’t have to look to know who it is.

He found her, of course he found her.

She immediately starts to cry, kicking herself because she should have expected it, she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes so high. All Nathan does is laugh and pull her closer, and then she feels his hand move into her hair. He holds her head up so she can keep her eyes on the road while he gets himself ready to do what he always does.

She tries to just lay there, begging her mind to drift off towards Santi, towards her safe place. When she thinks about him instead of what’s happening, it’s not so bad. Santi makes it all better.

But then another car drives by, and then another, and another and she can’t focus on anything but the fact that she’d been so close. There were people right there, maybe close enough to hear her if she’s loud enough.

She screams.

She wakes up screaming.

She’s screaming and kicking and Santi’s immediately by her side, calling her name, begging her to look at him but she doesn’t hear a thing, doesn’t register it.

He calls out for a nurse, starting to panic, afraid that she’s hurt and in pain but then he hears his name leave her lips in a broken, mangled sob and he knows she must’ve been dreaming.

He wants to cry with her. He hates seeing her like this.

Two nurses rush into the room, trying to get her attention as well but to no avail. They’re asking her what hurts, what happened, but all she can do is thrash around and call out for Santi again.

Hearing her like that, it’s the final push he needs to finally reach out to her.

Santi takes her hand, kissing each of her knuckles once he feels like she’s not going to punch him while he whispers that it’s okay, he’s right here and he’s not leaving her. She’s not with Nathan, she’s not in danger. She’s okay.

She doesn’t calm down, not really, so beyond terrified that Santiago’s voice is nothing but a trick her mind is playing on her, that he is the dream, one her brain had created to block it all out.

He repeats his words a second time, moving one of his hands up to her cheek, and it seems to break her out of it just a little bit more. He brings the second one up so that he’s cupping her face, and he watches as she immediately melts into him.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, it’s okay. It’s me, Santi.”

She doesn’t open her eyes. He wishes she would, but he doesn’t expect her to, not really. She’s so tired and he’s sure crying has left her completely exhausted.

He knows he’s right when her breathing evens out again.

But he doesn’t let go. Now that he’s touched her, he doesn’t want to stop, even though he knows that once she’s coherent it’ll probably be the last thing she wants.

He’ll take it while he can get it though.

He holds her hand all night long.