#time to go down down down by that river again

[azrielbrainrot]

Hey! I was thinking — "being overprotective of them in front of prospective partners" or "sharing cloths in a totally friendly way" with Cassian?

I think that's a cute print for him, and I'd love to see it ❤️

I love your writing and stories by the way!! 🥰

Say the Words

Pairing: Cassian x F!Reader

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I'm not sure this is what you had in mind and it turned out a bit angsty for some reason, but I hope you enjoy! Thank you for sending this in and I'm so glad you like my stories 🩷

The frigid winter air hits your burning cheeks, breath turning to mist as you walk away from the bar, but even if it was cold enough for the streets of Velaris to be mostly empty on a friday night, it's still not enough to calm the anger swimming through your body.

You had tried to decline Mor's invitation to come out tonight, preferring to sleep off the tiring week instead of drinking and dancing it away. Ultimately your blonde haired friend had gotten her away yet again, managing to bring everyone along to Rita's for a night out. You were doing your best to enjoy it despite your initial reluctance to come, drinking and dancing with your friends like you usually did.

A very well dressed and admittedly charming male started talking to you when you went to get another drink, his intentions more than clear behind his honeyed words and saccharine smile. You had no plans of going anywhere with him, only trying to choose your words to let him down easy, he hadn't been bothering you too much after all, but Cassian had suddenly showed up at your side, wrapping his arm around you in a possessive manner, scaring the poor male away with just a few words. You think you even saw him puff up his wings. All this to drop his arm as soon as he walked away, turning to go back to your friends like nothing had happened, making your temper rise at an alarming rate and prompting you to walk straight out of the bar, uncaring of the cold or the people calling your name.

The two of you have been toying with the line between friendship and more for years, lingering eyes and meaningful touches crossing it a bit more every day. It seemed that every time you tried to cross it, he took a step back though. You've gotten somewhat used to the push and pull by now, but, maybe because of your already dull mood, it reached a breaking point today.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind you, a sigh escaping your lips. Of course he had followed you outside, he would have followed you to the end of the earth. Knowing that a confrontation would be unavoidable, you slow your pace, sitting on a bench by the river, eyes trained ahead even when he stops by the bench, watching you.

“It's too cold for you to sit here,” he murmurs, voice uncharacteristically serious but as caring as always.

“I don't want to talk, Cassian.”

Except you did, it was probably the only thing that would make you feel better right now. You were just tired of pretending, and it seemed like he insisted on it. You were starting to wonder if he knew how to do anything else.

You can see him nod at your words in the corner of your eye, looking down at the heavy jacket in his hands before taking another step and draping it over your shoulders, his scent enveloping you instantly. You had to close your eyes for a moment, telling yourself not to give in.

“Don't stay here too long, you'll catch a cold.” His hand lingers in the air, looking like he wanted to reach out, but he doesn't, he never does. “You can keep the jacket.”

No sooner the words had left his mouth than he turned around. It makes you look up at him at last, facing his back, wings curled into his back as he walks away slowly, braving the cold in favor of leaving you warm as you stubbornly stayed outside instead of winnowing home. You couldn't understand him at all.

“What are you doing?”

He pauses, body visible tensing as he hears the defeat in your voice. “You said you didn't want to talk.”

“So you'll just leave?” Some of the anger returns, standing up and walking closer to him, waiting for him to turn and look into your eyes, almost daring him to. “What was all of that for then?” Your heart skips a beat when your eyes finally meet, the hazel showing all the things he wouldn't say like they always did, but you were tired of reading them for yourself, you wanted to hear everything from him.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Help?” You can't help but scoff, swallowing down the burning in your eyes, the headache that was creeping in. “If you will not make me yours then you can't act like I am.”

“That wasn't-”

“Since when have you been such a coward?”

“I'm not a coward.”

“You're sure acting like one.”

“What do you want me to say then?” His voice was rising in volume, eyes sharp as he took you in. Good. “That I didn't want him anywhere near you? That I almost ripped off his arm when he reached for your hand? That I don't want anyone else touching you? Is that what you want to hear?”

His hazel eyes burned into yours but you weren't going to back down, not now after finally getting something out of him. You would end this game tonight, one way or another.

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Why don't you want anyone touching me?”

Cassian lets out a breath, eyes moving over your head to watch the river for a moment, gathering his thoughts as you push him into a corner. You were about to repeat the same question, or even throw a few choice words at him when he reached for your neck, bringing your face in closer as he bends down, his touch gentle despite the storm raging inside him.

His lips linger over yours for a second longer, maybe giving you time to push him away, as if you ever would, but his patience seemed to be wearing thin as he kisses you at last, lips moving over yours as his hands hold your waist, pulling you closer into him. Your arms wrap around his neck, getting lost in him before your mind catches up to you, making you reluctantly pull away so you could look into his eyes.

“Say it,” you whisper against his lips.

“Because you're mine.”

A smile breaks out on your face. If it hadn't been for the cold biting your skin, you might have thought this was a dream. Cassian's face mirrors yours as he kisses you again, lifting you up into his arms as you winnow you both home, your mouths only pulling apart when your back hits the mattress.

[cuubism]

Michelangelo's Hands (Chapter 3)

Dreamling | E | slow burn, hurt/comfort, trauma, + smut | ~40k total

Hob's beloved stranger comes back to him, but he seems… changed. Damaged. Hob wants to help, but it's hard when his friend can barely even admit that he's hurting.It's hard to come home and find home destroyed, everything you created gone, the pieces you crafted of your own soul turned against you. Dream barely wants to think about it. But if he is ever to create again, he's going to have to let that pain in.

--

For some weeks, Hob tried to just go about his life. To manage the inn, to handle his classes. It wasn’t that he thought Dream would disappear entirely. That fear, at least, was muted now that they had begun to build a new friendship. But it seemed likely that Dream would stay away until he felt he had completed a sufficient amount of his work, would isolate himself, bury himself in his tasks, pressed down by the weight of his duty, letting it crush him out of guilt, or self-punishment. He did not seem to be able to accept that he was allowed to feel hurt by what had happened, despite Hob’s best efforts. For all Hob knew, Dream was right, and horrible consequences would result from Dream not finishing his tasks—Hob still did not know much about the functioning of Dream’s realm. But he did know one thing, from personal experience: if he used those tasks as a shield not to think about what had happened, things would only spiral and get worse.

Hob didn’t know what he could do about it, though.

Time passed. Hob worried more. He worried so much he contemplated trying to track down Dream’s old creation, the Corinthian, just to try to find out how to even contact Dream—but fortunately his meager sanity stopped him from doing so. More to prevent Corinthian from getting near Dream if he was not yet ready to deal with him, than to protect himself.

He tried lucid dreaming. He managed it, but he didn’t manage to find Dream. Just wandered by himself through ever-changing landscapes, past wild forests and rumbling rivers, storms and dust clouds, burned out shells of houses and tumble down walls, the ruins of Dream’s imprisonment, evident even only in Hob’s mind. He did not know if these were real things in the Dreaming, or if he was imagining them based on what Dream had told him. They felt like real things. Perhaps Hob imagining them made them real.

And then, finally, after what felt like eons of wandering, he found himself in Dream’s throne room again.

[[ AO3 ]]

[theghostavocadoe]

putsmy hands on your shoulders and stares ay ou with wide eyes. remnants meet vincent. how would that go .... what do you think....

Kadaj is still miffed about Vincent fucking up his plans in the forgotten forest, but he's quick to drop it once Vincent explains his reasoning. After that it becomes "someone should put you in a box floating down the river GRANDPA" banter

Yazoo, being the antisocial fuck that he is, greets Vincent with "sorry for shooting you that one time" and they proceed to get along swimmingly. and by getting along, I mean they partake in silent parallel play as the introverts they are

Loz ducks underneath his cloak out of panic one (1) time and Vincent swears to never let harm come to this boy ever again. He would Die for Loz. Anybody who so much as breathes at Loz wrong gets shot.

[eggcompany]

Divorced Zaundads AU

Except they get back together after years of being apart.

Silco grew his business, renting a big empty apartment that didn’t smell like their old apartment above the bar. He mostly just sat on his little balcony and smoked cigarettes. He spent all his time alone, doing yoga in his living room and eating salad. Food didnt taste good when he made it. Nothing felt good if he was doing it by himself.

Vander raised little Violet and baby Powder. He tried his best but he felt kinda… empty. He was stressed and did his best working the bar and taking the kids to school and trying to keep the apartment clean. He sometimes still grabbed four plates for dinner.

Everything falls into place one day, after three years. Silco’s in a bad place. He’d been drinking and yelling at employees and just spending every minute out of the office sitting in the dark of his apartment. Vander was burnt out, going through the motions. He just wanted to sleep all the time.

Silco decided he’d go to the place him and Vander used to go to. The bridge. He threw on his coat, wearing his slippers and wrinkled silk pajamas, and went out to smoke a cigar and over look the river.

Vander decided he needed to go on a walk, get some fresh air. Benzo had agreed to babysit AKA sleep in the recliner in the apartment living room just in case one of the girls woke up. He ended up at the river, the bridge, the one where he asked Silco to spend their lives together.

Silco didn’t notice him until Vander was leaning against the guardrail next to him. He could’ve cried. He was warm and the smell of him was so bone deep familiar. Silco didn’t mean to let the sob out.

“I missed you. I miss you so fucking much it’s killing me.” Silco said as Vander pulled him into a hug, so close, so tight. Vander held onto him like he’d never let go, nosing at his dark hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just- I need you.” Vander said and Silco nodded, hands twisting in Vander’s jacket.

Silco was being pushed away, his hands coming up to wipe away his tears before Vander was leaning down to press a kiss onto his lips. Neither of them knew who started it but soon they were making their way to the closest motel.

It was a blur of familiar hands, clothes hitting the floor, whispered ‘I love you’s, and what they both needed. The intimacy of being with someone who knows every inch, every good spot, everything.

Vander kissed across the scar on Silco’s face, the mark he’d caused, even as Silco cried, the feeling of being full, for the first time in so long, he could feel Vander’s heartbeat, his sorrow.

“I wanna go home.” Silco said as they laid together in the motel bed, cuddled close, satisfied and happy.

“I what you home. It’s where you belong.” Vander said and pulled Silco impossibly closer.

When the morning rolled around Silco put his pajamas back on and his coat, a giddy, teenage kinda laughter filled them as they put their clothes on and left the motel. It was a flower bloomed again for the first time in the spring.

The girls were happy when their papa came back. Powder clinging to his pant leg, violet was a little more withheld. Silco understood. The scars and his eye, she was afraid of him. It was okay.

Soon he let his lease end and their apartment, the one that they were always supposed to have, was bright and back to the way it was supposed to be.

[intiredtea]

Breaking a bargain for...?

As always, click for better quality.

More Bluejay origins!

(Context: He gave up his ability to sing as payment to a powerful crone who promised him protection and a new life. Bluejay casts spells using "Subtle Spell," a D&D 5e sorcery ability, which means you don't have perform somatic or verbal components of a spell. But without sorcery points, he had to make a decision to watch Gale die, or use his voice to save him).

This is super scrappy and I'm sorry. Almost scrapped this whole comic, but with some gentle encouragement from my wife and brother, I decided to just finish it the best I could and get my claws off of it.

As always, thanks for reading.

[jackass-jones]

Come back home when you have some sense

You can throw your life away just not at my expense

You’re not the son I raised

[transhoverfish]

check out my new and incredibly cool subnautica challenge!! i call it: Go More Than Ten Meters In Your Seamoth Without Hitting 17 Entire Fucking Fish. so far proving to be impossible.

[nymphoutofwater]

getting ready for a party im hosting tomorrow and i feel like im forgetting something. oh i know!!! accidentally starting tumblr discourse bc i was curious about other people’s social norms!!! what should I ask this time?

[idk-what-to-put-here-123]

I've actually had a really good day today for a change

[acourtofquestions]

Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.

[burningcomputerpersona]

I'm spending a year out of my comfort zone I don't think I've ever been comfortable in my life Or my own skin So I spent a decade painting myself blue Running from any hint of the truth: I'm far too old to complain about dying alone When I've been the way I've been

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

not to sound like a broken record but i love my friends so fucking much

[coloursofaparadox]

i finally got my adhd med dosage worked out and also for like the first time since upping the dosage actually managed to take it consistently long enough for it to actually kick in over the last few weeks and god damn. that shit is magic.

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

So to continue my theme of Ken™Doll-Sam

Here's Ken!Sam in the "My Way" music video looking like Ken!René from the Aqua music video for "Barbie Girl"

And here's Ken!Sam with his perfectly quaffed hair playing his bass next to animated Ken with his perfectly quaffed hair playing... well a shit ton of instruments.

[sidesteppostinghours]

Hewooo, good morninggg!

ask game time ✨

For Caine: Philia 4 + Storge 3 in the context of tbe farm or tia elena

For Cyrus: Eros 1 + Storge 4 (sibling au ✨) + Philautia 4

im probably a few hours late when i finish answering this, but morning idle :D! hope you had a good one

Philia 4. Is your OC able to build close friendships with people very different from themselves? Perhaps in terms of culture, age or personality?

i was thinking about this yesterday on my way home from uni actually. the answer is yes, but with one baseline requirement: anybody they become close with needs to be able to ground them in one way or another. mortum and argent are possible, he appreciates their bluntness and strict boundaries. he likes to listen to mortum and occasionally bounce off ideas with her. he already holds respect for argent, and given time, she couldve grown to be a trusted confidante. however, they want to keep mortum as a purely business relationship at the moment, and argent already scared them off before anything could happen. heralds not getting any further than coach or "he seems nice", they like him but they get a headache whenever theyre in a room with him for too long. other than that, anybody goes. hes not picky.

Storge 3. How far does parental approval (imagined or expressed) impact upon their current sense of self-worth? What might they sacrifice or attempt to achieve in order to ensure the approval of their parents?

the answer varies wildly for either, so ill answer for both. in the case of tia elena, parental approval is a bit shocking to him, like with most relationship dynamics. they like it, they just cant fathom the fact that theyre getting percieved, much less in a positive light. hed do a lot to get more, its fascinating to him and it makes him feel like hes doing a good job. but its something they can easily give up if the situation calls for it (aka theyre my only step tia elenas 'im-not-mad-im-just-disappointed' look wouldnt work on).

the farm is...a very different story. they were made to be a tool, and if its a tool they want, a tool they shall get. before their escape he was very single-minded when accomplishing missions. get the job done in any way possible. consequences arent for him to worry about, he only needs to worry about if they mess up. which they wont. they make sure of it. after their escape he leans less into that mindset, but its difficult to let go of, and still bleeds into his relationships most of the time. they dont like to think about the fact they wouldve sacrificed anything for the farm back then, and that theyre not sure they wouldnt sacrifice anything now if the right people asked it from them.

Eros 1. Is your OC romantic in the traditional sense? Do they enjoy giving or receiving gifts of flowers or confectionary? Or are there other courtship traditions from their culture of origin that are important to them?

nobody but him is allowed to be romantic. thats it thats the answer were moving on

in all seriousness, he does do traditionally romantic things alot, though most of them are for the reaction, not courtesy. roses and flowers are a common way for him to try and fluster his dates, and the two people hes dated are both sappy suckers so its worked most of the time. the exception is gift giving, because most of his gifts are handmade, so he tries not to make a big deal about it. unfortunately, his partners always do.

receiving romantic gestures should be something hes used to at this point, but hes not, so it always catches him off gaurd. its embarrassing, but the most embarrassing part is that he gets strangely touched by it. he probably still has a teddy gifted to him thats never seeing the light of day. oh, and chocolates are always welcome. thats just good food.

Storge 4. Does your OC have any siblings? If so then did their parents have a favourite growing up? Has their relationship with their sibling changed in adulthood? If they don't have any siblings then do they perhaps feel they have missed out on an important relationship? Do they have any especially close friends who go some way towards filling that role?

sibling au time✨

does the farm have the normal version of a favourite?? no. do they have a favourite 'im gonna fuck them up for fun' sibling? yes and thats fawn. north is a bastard and he frequently makes cyrus dream of murder. as for how their relationships all changed, cyrus used to be closer to his siblings. a Lot closer. of course, the farm changed that. he became cruel and harsh, which fawn couldnt connect with. even with river who wants to be evil, cyrus became obsessive about control after heartbreak, which i dont think river appreciates. his mental imprint changed extremely, and he started shielding around them. needless to say their relationship was estranged for a good while, but cyrus can never stay away from the people he cares about.

Storge 5. Which of your OC's qualities makes them the most proud? Do they think more people should be like them in this regard? Or do they quite like being rare in possessing it?

hes proudest of his ability to stay logical and composed, unaffected by emotions. that last part isnt true btw, but he gets to believe it to feel better about himself. hes able to think things through and do what needs to be done without external influence. he thinks itd be easier for everybody if they were more like him, but secretly, hes relieved that theyre not. itd get less people hurt, but the poison is addicting, yk? if people were as logical as he wanted them to be, ortega and herald (and maybe mortum, the verdict is pending) wouldve dropped him by now, yet persistent assholes that they are, they stay with him anyway. he likes the trade-off.

questions are from here!

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 10: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should join the travelers on the larger river boat for a short lunch ...

~

"Before he even fully musters the courage to shout a 'hello', the large group on the boat initiates contact first, gleefully waving at him, whooping and shouting as they near his tiny raft in the water. Apparently, some of them were betting over whether they'd actually find any other travelers out on the river today.. He fumbles over his words a bit, as always, but somehow manages to successfully get himself invited onto their boat for a quick lunch..

After safely securing his raft to the side of the boat with some spare rope, he climbs aboard, stumbling into the excitement of some sort of celebration. A few of them explain that they're traveling for 'kahesallei', an old elven holiday recently re-popularized in some of the larger cities nearby. Whatever it's true meaning and origins used to be, the current significance (at least to those within the city walls) seems to just be mindless feasting, drinking, and gaudy decor. Most of the traveling group are strangers to each other, only brought together by catching a ride on the same tour/party boat, but the mood is light, quite friendly between them, and perhaps a bit drunk.

While the boat itself is relatively plain wood, it's been strewn with gold and orange banners, flags, shimmery tassels, beads, and bushels of dark green ivy braided with fresh herbs and wildflowers. There are flat round tables of food and drink, plenty of cushions to lounge on, and one random guy perched precariously on the edge railing of the boat, gently strumming a lute for background music..

The elderly ship captain hobbles over to The Adventurer, sternly explaining that, no matter what the 'silly' passengers say, he's only allowed to stay for an hour because he didn't pay for a boat ride ticket, and thus really shouldn't even be allowed on board. By the time The Adventurer has mentally processed this information, the captain has already returned to his little steering room, slamming the door shut with a displeased grunt.. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to confront him or question the rules...... But! Hey, at least he has one hour at the party.. How should he spend his time? "

~

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main goal: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has