#when i was looking at how people drew him there was like three different tags lmao

[eggoyolkk]

another set of three randomly selected raposa because i like disregarding the list of fem/masc rapo traits

[imaginesmai]

Missed target - Azriel

Here it is! So many people asked to be tagged on this I got OVERWHELMED. Thanks for the love!I'm thinking about a second part where Azriel decides to repeat all the missed efforts and treat you like the queen you are. Let me know what you think.

Plot: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

The Suriel 1

The Suriel watched the shadowsinger sharpen his blades in the forest, oblivious to his presence. Not even his shadows could detect the ancient creature, and he was proud of that. Of all the beings that he had seen, all the people that had summoned him, Azriel was who drew his curiosity.

Maybe the male in front of him didn’t remember, or maybe he did but had decided not to tell a soul about it. The Suriel did remember, and he had been observing since that night where a young, scarred and devasted Azriel had summoned him.

“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”

The child didn’t understand what a Suriel was, or what type of questions he could answer. Still, the Suriel held the sobbing kid for one night, just one night, and let himself wonder what would it be to feel, to dream, like fae and humans did.

Something changed in the male’s stance, a muscle twitching in his left wing, and the Suriel knew he didn’t have much time left before he was noticed. He risked another glance at the unmoving figure, shadows surrounding the clearing where he stood.

As he vanished from the sight, the Suriel smiled briefly, oddly happy that that kid’s broken questions were about to be answered.

Missed date

Azriel liked Elain, more than he should. He liked her innocence, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, her full lips and thin waist. He liked the dresses she wore and the flowers she grew, even the way her voice sounded when she said his name. He liked liked her, and felt like a foolish teen when she was around.

Rhysand had warned him against it, and the Archeron sister had a mate – but still, Azriel hoped Elain would like him back. Even though he had been with plenty of women before, that time it felt different, and he didn’t know why.

Ignoring the signs against his desires, he had decided to act on his feelings.

Azriel had invited Elain to have dinner with him that night, in a lovely restaurant in Velaris. Sure, he might have said Cassian and Nesta were coming, and then proceeded to invite the couple knowing they wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom with their clothes on. The plan had gone just fine – Cassian and Nesta had talked about it during lunch time, giving the impression it was just a friendly dinner, and then proceeded to lock themselves in their room for the rest of the day. Elain had smiled and asked about the hour, and Azriel had chosen his best shirt.

But the Cauldron musth have had other plans, because another minute passed by and he was sitting by himself in the restaurant, getting strange looks from the staff.

“Are you ready to order?”

He looked up to the waiter, with a tight smile on his face. Azriel guessed they were debating if kicking him out was worth angering the spymaster of the court.

“Still waiting” he grumbled, looking to the closed doors. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty, sir. Would you like to… drink something?”

“Water is fine”

They had agreed to meet at nine, and part of him refused to think he had been stood up. That sweet, charming Elain who blushed under his gaze wouldn’t show up. He tried to come up with a reason behind her absence, and was sure there was a reasonable one, but he felt his excitement die as the clock ticked away.

Azriel pursed his lips when the waiter didn’t leave, not meeting his eyes. He would leave, but he would wait a little longer. For her sake, he would wait until the sun came up. The male cleared his throat and Azriel stared at the plants decorating the entrance.

It was a nice plant.

“Is the person you’re waiting for coming soon?”

“If she was, I wouldn’t be waiting here” his words were bitter, not towards the waiter, but at the situation.

“Maybe you could move to the counter and wait there, sir? I… there are customers waiting and – “

Before the man could dig his own grave further, Azriel pushed his chair back and walked towards said counter with his jacket on his arm. He refused to look at the waiter and let him know just how embarrassed he was, how disappointed in himself and in her.

The restaurant had a small counter where some couples shared their food and friends drank loudly. He damned his luck for choosing the busiest day to be stood up. Scanning the crowd, he found an empty seat at the corner and sat on a stool, ordering a beer.

Alcohol would only make it worse, but he guessed he was already done for. Ten more minutes, he promised himself. If Elain didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, he would leave and apologize to Rhys for his stubbornness.

Two minutes passed by, and he grew sick of watching the couple in front of him giggling in secrets.

Another three, and he counted each plant that decorated the restaurant. There were twenty-five without the artificial ones.

Seven minutes after his first beer, the waiter asked him if he wanted anything else and he just growled back.

His fingers were clenching painfully around the hem of his jacket when the ten minutes passed by. He was ready to get up when something sweet and floral hit his nose, leaving his mind blank for a second. Azriel blinked surprised at the smell, distinct from the elegant ones in the restaurant. With half smile, he turned to his right hoping to see Elain, pleasantly surprised with her choice of perfume.

Only that the woman who sat next to him wasn’t Elain, but another fae woman with a similar smell. Azriel scanned her outfit before you noticed him, before he could reprimand himself for checking you out.

You were wearing a loose blue and bright skirt with an elegant top, that left part of your collarbone visible. He felt something rush to his chest up to his cheeks while he stared at the smooth skin, and he willed himself to look up to your face.

“Guess this is where they discard the stood up, hm?” you looked at him and he blinked surprised. “I’ve been sitting next to the window for an hour now. I don’t think he’s showing up”

“Who?” Azriel asked dumbly, not thinking anything better.

“My friend set me up on a blind date, but he didn’t show up. At least the bread was good” you shrugged, finally looking away from Azriel. “Hi. Can I get a soda?”

Azriel felt his previous resolution of leaving the restaurant dissolve. You smelt just like her, but so different at the same time. Your voice still reverberated on his chest as you waited for your drink, stealing glances at the silent male at your side. It was strange for him to have his throat swallowing back the words that he wanted to say, have his mind blank of any comeback.

But as he stared at you, he wondered if you were a witch and had casted a spell on him.

“Are you… my date?” you finally asked when your soda came back, looking him up and down. “I’ve seen you standing here for a while”

“I’m Azriel”

“I don’t know the name of my date” you stated, and Azriel just prayed that you wouldn’t notice the shadows he couldn’t control revolving around your feet. “I’m Y/N”

“No”

He begged himself to say something else, to break the awkward silence or leave. After all, he had gone to that restaurant to meet Elain, not a stranger who had been stood up. But all the wit and intelligence that had won him the title of Shadowsinger and Spymaster seemed to seep away through his pores, and he couldn’t get back any of it.

You smiled at him tightly and turned to look around, finally breaking eye contact. Azriel got up without saying anything else and walked towards the doors, leaving a generous amount of money on the counter. You didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t bother looking back, his body stiff with your awkward encounter.

When he arrived to the house, he found a very regretful and very sick Elain who had been in bed all afternoon. She apologized again and again until he forced her back in bed and tucked her in. They agreed they would repeat again, sometime, but Azriel found himself less excited than that morning. He didn’t blame her – he couldn’t, when he had seen how her knees trembled with coughs and had heard her stuffy voice.

As he laid down that night in this enormous bed, his shadows didn’t whisper about Elain or brought back her smell, that most nights didn’t let him sleep. They caressed his hands in silence, with the memory of a sweet, floral smell that didn’t belong to the girl he liked.

The market

Rhysand and Cassian were away for a week, and while Azriel usually missed his brothers, that time he was beyond himself. Not only he wouldn’t be hearing Nesta and Cassian’s late-night activities, but he would be alone with his favorite Archeron sister, since Feyre and Nesta had decided to leave too.

There were plans for them, big ideas that he had crafted the previous night as he laid awake in the dark. The first one, most important, would be to find an excuse to talk to Elain.

She had left for the market as Azriel completed his morning training, and the male didn’t miss how she blushed at his presence. She had explained briefly her plans to him and had left in a rush. Azriel, who religiously trained each day, decided to postpone his activities and refill the house’s pantry.

It took him a while to come up with something to buy, even longer to gather the courage to follow his plan. By the time he was walking through the lively market-street, he was certain Elain would be leaving.

But he was lucky, because he spotted the familiar head a few stands away. Azriel felt the usual acceleration of his heart rhythm, the blood rushing to his head. His wings fluttered and he walked with little decision to where Elain was buying some fruits.

It seemed, with so little decision, that she moved away before he could reach him.

The game of cat and mouse continued for what felt like forever, Azriel only sniffling her before she left to a new stand. The street seemed endless, and the buyers too talkative and pushy. They bumped against his wings, apologized, and proceeded to block his way in awe for five to ten seconds.

When he saw Elain holding enough bags to cause him a backpain, he decided pushing people in return was worthy and walked faster.

Before she could complain, he picked up her bags from her arms carefully, resisting the urge of flinching at how heavy they were.

“Here, let me” Azriel extended his free arm, watching without looking up as it filled slowly with more bags. “These are heavy. What do we need so much food for?”

“Are you planning to eat it with me?”

Azriel looked up and stared into a pair of bright eyes that certainly weren’t Elain’s. Nor was your hair pulled back in a ribbon, or the worn-out cape hanging from your frame. His shadows helpfully recognized you from the missed date and awkward encounter, and he blinked surprised.

He opened and closed his mouth. Proudly, he could argue that only few times someone managed to make him speechless. But he didn’t find anything to say as he held half of your bags, looking a caught thief.

Your smile lowered at his surprise. Surely, you expected a kind stranger helping you with your heavy groceries, not him. Just as he didn’t expect you.

“Can I… have that back?” you asked when he didn’t move, only stared at you. “Please?”

The standard, cordial reaction would have been to apologize and carry the bags for you. If Azriel’s brain hadn’t stopped functioning, he would have explained he had confused you with someone else and would be on his merry way to find Elain.

But his heart wouldn’t stop beating stubbornly against his chest, loudly on his ears. His shadows, that you had noticed by now, were tangling themselves between your knees, holding part of the weight themselves.

He tried not to make it too obvious when he inhaled your essence, so characteristically nice. Instead of doing any of the rational things, he dropped your bags to the ground with a loud crack and a wet splash and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.

The flowers

Feyre had given him the directions, and he had quickly written them on a piece of paper as his high-lady prepared Nyx’s bottle, cradled the fussy baby and ate her own breakfast.

He was extremely thankful for her help, because she had also had the idea to give Elain a bouquet of flowers. Azriel felt bad about ignoring her for the two days they were alone, too busy trying to regain what was left of his dignity after the market. So, he had prepared the flowers and put them together with a blue ribbon, and had asked Feyre where Elain was staying.

He had walked through the streets of Velaris with a content smile, humming to himself in silence. His shadows were active that morning, dancing between his feet and knees, and tangling themselves in the flowers. He couldn’t explain the sudden urge of joy if not for the imminent encounter with Elain, who had been on his mind for two days straight.

The rays of sun warmed his cheeks, and he felt extremely lucky.

It only took him ten minutes to reach his destination, a busy street in the center of the town. People sneaked glances at him and whispered, as if he wouldn’t hear them. Azriel stopped in front of a white wooden door. It looked old and worn, and matched the pots with flowers on the window. It was a cozy house, exactly what Azriel had imagined Elain’s house to be.

She had moved out a few months ago, claiming she needed her own space. And he had yet to visit her place – which, once he realized he was about to do it for the first time, made him kind of nervous.

Azriel stood in front of the door, his frame covering the whole space. Between his shoulders and wings he shadowed it, and he felt weirdly insecure. Something fell to the ground inside, probably a bag, and even though he knew Elain would be inside, Azriel recoiled back.

In a pathetic attempt to make his intention known, he raised his fist.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Don’t throw them on her like a burning pot.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Try to smile without looking creepy.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

He heard soft humming from the inside, and the fact that it was the exact same melody he had been humming on his way there threatened to give him a heart attack. Before he could think better, he quickly searched his pocket for a pen while trashing for the tag of the bouquet.

In the meantime, he heard the humming coming closer and closer to the door. It was a sweet melody, one he had loved since he was a kid, that brought a selfish smile to his face. Who was the world to tell him they weren’t meant to be, if their minds aligned like that?

Azriel found the pen and, leaning against the brick wall, scribbled down a quick note on the tag. His handwritten was shaky, not neat nor perfect, and he felt a bead of sweat rolling down the corner of his neck.

Once he was finished, he tucked the tag between the stems and placed the bouquet delicately on the ground. He mentally kicked himself at his stupidity, and when he rose back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He was the shadowsinger. The spymaster. People feared him, respected him, and he had had enough women in his bed to know he could get them. They liked him, men and women, and he had never had an issue before. And there he was, leaving a bouquet of flowers like a coward because he couldn’t knock.

All because of the stupid melody.

His impulsive thoughts won again and he crouched to write down his name at the bottom of the note. Only having his good luck ran out and knock his head against a pot when he rose back up. Azriel cursed under his breath at the sharp pain, but wasn’t fast enough to catch the pot.

He didn’t know what worried him most – that he was sad because the humming stopped, or that it stopped. Azriel didn’t need his fae hearing or shadows to hear the approaching steps, and he quickly retreated into the darkness. Just as he appeared in the other corner of the streets, hidden from the public’s eye, the door opened.

“Hello?”

Azriel let his lips part in surprise when Elain didn’t peer at the street, but you. The stranger with a memorizing smell that had been stood up. The girl whose bags he had dropped in the middle of the street.

You were wearing a stained apron, and had been clearly cooking. Azriel felt the sudden need to know what. What you were doing that made you look like that, that made Azriel’s rebellious heart jump.

He watched as you looked to both sides of the street, smiling to acquittances and finally noticing the bouquet. Your eyebrows almost rose to your hairline and an adorable shade of pink covered your chest. You quickly covered your mouth, but Azriel’s bones reverberated at the sound of your giggle. He found himself wondering if you were curling your toes in your shoes.

Leaning down, you picked the flowers and Azriel’s stupid smile, that had no right to be on his face, dropped.

He had signed it.

Your eyes scanned the tag and read through his words at a sickening speed. Sorry about last week, hope I wasn’t too much of a dick. Yours, Azriel

His shadows swallowed him before he could ask the Cauldron to dig a hole and swallowed him, but he could still see your content smile and have the utter and complete realization that your smile shadowed Elain’s.

The dance

“When have you ever cleaned up so nice?” Cassian asked him as he invaded his room, with no warning.

“Whenever you’re not around to see it” he answered back, not tearing his eyes away from his tie’s knot on the mirror. “So I don’t eclipse you”

Cassian scoffed and threw himself on the perfectly made bed. Azriel didn’t bother asking him to move, because while any other time he would have kicked him out, his bed was the farthest point from his work desk. Where, between patrol reports and court’s correspondence, were a month’s worth of letters between you two.

His hands trembled even more at the thought of his brother finding about it. He was already nervous enough at the premise of dancing with Elain tonight, at the thought of her wearing the bracelet he had sent her that matched his tie. Azriel didn’t need to think about the pointless, certainly not important letters that he shared with you.

“Nesta has kicked me out of our room” the male proclaimed. “She’s determinated to get to the ball on time. As if me not seeing her now would change our early departure”

“You’re disgusting” Azriel met his brother’s stare through the mirror.

“And you’re jealous. When was the last time you got laid?” Cassian raised her eyebrows suggestibly. “Anyone in mind for this particularly night?”

“Nesta, if you leave her unsatisfied”

“Can it be me if I’m unsatisfied?”

Cassian’s laugh boomed through the room and took Azriel’s mind out of the last hours’ frenzy. He had wanted to be excited, had been thinking about Feyre’s birthday ball for months now. Thinking about how Elain and him would dance, proving Rhysand that they were a match and should be together.

Indeed, Azriel had been excited about it until a month ago. When he found himself cutting his encounters with Elain short when a note came through, falling asleep with thoughts of a different woman on his mind.

He hadn’t seen you since the incident of the flowers, and his intention was to never see you again. But then, he had found a note on his training room, delivered by Nuala. I’m glad we both agree you were a dick that day, but if my forgiveness has you loosing nights of sleep, I forgive you. Although, for the next time, don’t be disappearing from a crime scene – those flowers were expensive.

Azriel had found it and had scoffed a laugh, a sound foreign to his ears. He had replied and had sent Nuala back to your house, with an apologetic smile.

Seems that I keep encountering you when I don’t mean to. Those flowers were for someone else, but I’m happy to hear that I will be sleeping soundly from now on. Sorry for your pot. If it makes you feel better, fate was my witness and gifted me with a nasty bump.

Two notes evolved to another two, then to four more, and suddenly, Azriel found himself sending you noted almost every day, sharing stupid facts and reading about your day.

“Is it because Elain?”

The mood was broken and shattered at the word of the fae, and Azriel finished his knot to turn and look at Cassian.

“Don’t judge me. I’m not Rhys ‘don’t you dare to touch my sis-in-law’ or Mor ‘bad choices are made’” Cassian lifted his arms slightly. “I’m just curious”

“Am I cleaning up nice for my high-lady and friend’s birthday ball? Yes, unlike you, I do care about having a clean presence” he looked down to his jacket. “Your shirt is stained with Nesta’s lipstick”

“Oh, I plan to let her stain more than my shirt” he chuckled.

Azriel rolled his eyes and turned towards the door without saying anything else.

He walked with Cassian through the long hallways until they reached the main hall, talking about training and pointless topics. The usual knot on his stomach loosened a bit when he was with him, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He knew Cassian only looked for him in those social events for his sake – because he knew how much Azriel struggled with the attention, with the looks.

For the first minutes, he stood by his side silently as Cassian greeted different people that Azriel didn’t want to talk with. He engaged short conversations with his family, laughed softly at Mor’s attempt of escaping with the wine, and entertained Nyx briefly.

He kept looking at the main doors, waiting for Elain to walk through so he could regain that excitement, that want, that seemed to seep through his fingers lately.

When the first dance started, Rhysand took Feyre’s hand and dragged her through the floor, looking like a regius couple. Mor took a giggling Nyx in her arms and danced in the corner, and Cassian used the opportunity to sneak with Nesta.

Azriel quickly found himself in the middle of dancing couples, and he swore the knot of his tie got tighter. He looked around for Elain, tried to identify her sweet smell or long hair, but he didn’t find her.

“She’s not coming, you know?” Amren’s voice appeared to her right, and he turned to find her leaning against a wall.

“Who’s not coming?”

“Elain” she explained. “She left yesterday with Lucien to get to know his court. Thought you, of all people, should know”

Had he been so out of it that he hadn’t notice it? Had he tried so hard to think about her that he hadn’t talked to her? He tried to think of a conversation where Elain told him that she wouldn’t be assisting, but he realized that he hadn’t talked to her in the last few days.

Actually, he had just sent the bracelet and guessed she would wear it. Part of his excitement wore down at the news, and he regretted agreeing to the ball.

Amren raised a brow at his fallen expression.

“Are you still after her, boy? Knowing she has a mate?” she inquired. “Thought you were smarter than that”

“You don’t understand. None of you do” he said, trying to sound angry. Trying to sound convinced, as convinced as he had been when he met her, but his voice sounded deflected.

“Maybe we don’t, but don’t fool yourself thinking the Cauldron makes mistakes. You’re not above its power”

Azriel scoffed at the answer he had heard before too many times, and faced away from Amren. She could try to convince him all she wanted, but his mind was up. As he walked out of the room, evading dancing couples, he forced the disappointment down his chest, where most of his feelings lay forgotten.

Of course she wouldn’t come. Of course, all those glances meant she was nervous around him, not reciprocated feelings. Of course, someone like Azriel wouldn’t end up with someone like her.

He loosened his tie briefly as he exited the ball, only to stop close to the entrance. He looked back at his family, dancing happily in the main floor. Even Amren, who didn’t dance, talked with a content half-smile to Varian, who had attended in behalf of his court.

Through all his centuries, all he had wanted was to have someone to dance with. To hold while the world fell apart, not to endure it on his own. Azriel felt a rebel knot climb to his throat, making the sight in front of him blurry.

Like a fool, he had thought Elain would be that person. After Mor, he thought he had found his person. Azriel looked once more to the ball before hastily turning around and colliding full force with a person entering the ball.

“Damnit!”

“Careful – “

Azriel didn’t get to stop the body falling to the ground, and he almost fell right above it. He gathered his footing back before he could cause more damage, and looked down to the incomer.

Something in his chest cracked when he saw the color of the dress pooling in the ground, the same one he wore on his loosened tie. The exact same color in the bracelet now forgotten in Elain’s room, that he had chosen so carefully and thoughtfully. He blinked past the initial shock and muttered an apologetic smile, offering his hand.

His eyes traveled up the wrinkled but beautiful dress to an exposed cleavage adorned with a simple blue gem. He didn’t register the similarities with his own siphons when his eyes met yours, both widened at the same time.

Centuries of waiting, of uncertainty, were suddenly nothing when the bond snapped loud in his soul. It rattled his bones and threatened to send him to the ground too.

“Y/N” he whispered, the room around him quietened. It was the first time he said your name out loud, and it felt divine on his lips. “What…?”

“Hm, Feyre’s birthday” you accepted his hand and let him pull you up, and he almost sent you crashing against his chest. “She invited me”

“That’s good”

Your eyes didn’t leave his for a while, as the bond settled for the two of you. Something had called you when you saw that dress, hanging beautifully in the window’s shop. You never wore that color, never attended to those parties. But the premise of seeing the owner of the notes you had been receiving lately, who your friends were tired of hearing about, was too appealing.

Somehow, buying that dress, coming late to the ball because of pointless delays, felt like a trick of fate.

“The bond” Azriel supplied uselessly, and you nodded for moral support way too enthusiastically.

“Yeah. It’s… here” you pressed your free hand against your chest, squeezing the one trapped in Azriel’s warm grip. “I didn’t think it would feel like this”

“It feels right”

Azriel couldn’t explain what had been missing until now. A void that had lived for so long in a place he couldn’t reach that now pulsated loudly where he needed it. He expected to be nervous, to be overjoyed, but above all of that, Azriel felt calm. At peace with himself as he stared into your eyes.

Time didn’t exist and the rest of the world was insignificant, only you mattered. And he could have spent an eternity looking at you if you hadn’t taken the first step and hugged him. If he thought the snapping bond was intense, your body against him robbed his breath.

His hand moved by itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling between your locks and pressing your face closer to him. The other arm rounded your waist, until you both belonged together like one soul.

The song ended and you looked up from his arms. With a small smile, you looked down at the loosened tie.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel nodded quickly and turned his back to the exit, your hand in his. People stared, his family looked at him, but all he could see was how blind he had been not to notice you were what was missing.

The Suriel 2

In the busy morning, few people stopped to see what lurked in the shadows of Velaris. They walked and rushed to their meeting points, talked with friends and families in the corners, and enjoyed the sunny day in the square. They all held interesting stories, futures that the Suriel fed on.

But he didn’t look at any of them. Only at the male standing a few feet away from him. He was sure his shadows had noticed him by now, that they knew his scent and presence, but decided not to warn his master. After all, he was no threat, just a mere spectator of fate.

The shadowsinger seemed to doubt between two books from a stand. He was oblivious to the world around him, but the Suriel knew. He noticed how he had changed in just five months, how not only his scent screamed a mating bond but also his soul. The way he stood, walked, talked.

As if the world didn’t own him anything else, as if he was finally the main character of his story.

The tall, dangerous male picked up the thicker book and paid for it with a small smile. He asked the woman in charge of the stand for a blue ribbon and tied the bag with it. Azriel turned around and distanced himself from the Suriel, not noticing his looming presence. But as he got farther and farther away from him, the Suriel was pleasantly surprised to notice shadows gathering at his feet, curious but not aggressive.

He showed them a terrifying smile, all teeth and cruelty – and still, they only brushed the torn parts of his cape in silent gratitude.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend

Missed target taglist (will be added if I make a second part)

@kayjayjwrites , @phoenix666stuff , @lupinswolfsbanes , @bionic-donut , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @favsrachz , @dwlyniii , @mischiefmanagers , @sassybluebird , @saltedcoffeescotch , @andrewgarfield2022 , @leeknows-wife , @marscardigan , @celear , @sstrohma , @pricklepearbloom , @blackgirlmagicforever , @emiliasdump , @erencvlt , @that-one-little-soybean , @meshellexplosionmurder , @atrxidxs , @feyretopia , @sidthedollface2 , @littlelunatica , @historygeekqueen, @ash-mcj , @haileycannotcometothephonern , @thesunloveschips , @meritxellao , @impossibelle , @kalulakunundrum , @nebarious , @cullenswife , @emryb , @sandramalikstyles-blog

[cece693]

It's All For You (Jay Gatsby x GN! Reader)

Fun fact, one of my favorite books is The Great Gatsby. However, to this day, no one (in my opinion) has managed to fully encase what Jay represents. Character-wise, he's still the Gatsby chasing the green light, but in terms of face claim, I left him ambiguous. I know this is a very out-there fandom, and I know it won't be very popular, but it makes me happy :)

Summary: You were helping Jay see your cousin Daisy, but, somewhere down the line, you managed to become his anchor to reality.

tags: can be read with Nick in mind, Jay is an infatuated boy, clueless reader, Jay finally sees Daisy for what she is, happy ending

Daisy was enchanting. Captivating. Alluring. But none of those words seemed to fully encapsulate the aura she exuded. There was a lightness to her that drew people in, a kind of graceful detachment as if she floated through life just out of reach. Yet for all her beauty and charm, there was something elusive about her, something that kept everyone at arm's length. It was easy to be enchanted by her, to fall for the sparkling facade she wore like a second skin. And Jay Gatsby was no different—at least, that’s what I thought.

Gatsby had built a life around the idea of Daisy, a world spun from dreams and memories of a love long lost. The parties, the lavish displays, the rumors—they all pointed back to her, to the one he had let slip away. When I came to West Egg, I found myself pulled into his grand scheme to win her back. Daisy had asked for my help; I was her cousin, after all, and who better to act as a go-between, arranging encounters, helping to stage those first delicate meetings under the guise of friendly visits?

At first, Gatsby's devotion to Daisy seemed unwavering, as though he was single-mindedly determined to recapture the past. He spoke of her with reverence, like a man describing a distant star, bright and unattainable. He watched for her at every gathering, always positioned just so, as though one look from her would make all the years melt away. I helped him prepare for these moments, choosing the flowers, setting the table for tea, ensuring everything was perfect. He wanted it all to be just right for Daisy.

But as time went on, I noticed something I couldn’t quite name. The way Gatsby's gaze would flicker toward me in moments of quiet, how he would seek my approval on even the smallest details. There was a certain light in his eyes when we would linger in conversation long after the parties had ended and the rest of the world had gone to sleep. I chalked it up to Gatsby’s natural charm, to the friendship that had grown between us amid all the scheming. After all, I was helping my cousin's lost love find his way back to her.

The first real crack in the illusion came one afternoon when Gatsby and I were alone in his library, discussing the next gathering. Daisy had mentioned that she missed simpler times, the quietness of tea on a summer's day. I suggested we hold a small, intimate tea party just for the three of us, something more personal than the grand festivities that had become Gatsby's signature.

“It’s a wonderful idea,” Gatsby agreed, his voice softening as he looked at me, not in the direction of the distant green light that always seemed to capture his attention. “But it doesn’t feel right to ask so much of you, helping with all this.”

I waved off his concern. “Nonsense. I’m happy to help. If it makes Daisy smile, then it’s worth it.”

He gave a small, almost wistful smile. “I suppose it’s not just Daisy who I’m trying to make smile.”

I didn’t know what to make of that comment. I let it slide, laughing it off as a joke, but something about the way he said it stayed with me. There was a warmth in his tone that I couldn’t quite place, and in the days that followed, I began to see Gatsby in a different light.

The tea party came and went, with Daisy laughing and charming her way through the afternoon. Gatsby’s attention was on her, of course, but there was a shift, a subtle one, like a shadow moving across a wall. I found Gatsby watching me out of the corner of his eye, a lingering glance that held more than casual interest. It was as though he was trying to tell me something without words.

And then, one night, as the last strains of music from yet another party faded into the stillness, Gatsby approached me on the terrace. The moonlight cast long shadows across the lawn, and there was a hesitation in his steps that I hadn’t seen before.

“You know,” he began, leaning against the stone railing, “for the longest time, I thought everything I did was for Daisy. Every party, every bit of gold and glitter—it was all meant to bring her back to me.”

“Isn’t it still?” I asked, unsure of what he was getting at. “You’ve built all of this for her.”

“Yes,” he admitted, but there was a shift in his tone, a softness I hadn’t heard before. “But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about Daisy.”

The breath caught in my throat. “Then what was it about?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Gatsby turned to face me fully, his gaze searching mine. “It was about finding something real. I thought Daisy could give me that, but then I met you. You were there for every moment, every detail, pulling me back when I started drifting into dreams again. I started looking forward to your company, your words, your laughter.” He took a step closer, the intensity in his eyes almost overwhelming. “It was you who brought me back to reality.”

I stood frozen. “Jay,” I began, struggling to find the right words. “I—”

"You don't have to tell me anything, Y/N." Gatsby smiled, a minuscule one that conveyed just how difficult this was for him too. "I just wanted to make my interest clear."

His words hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting us in that moonlit moment. The warmth of his gaze sent a thrill racing through me, igniting something deep inside—a longing I had tried to ignore while orchestrating his reunion with Daisy. The truth crashed over me like a wave, and I realized that somewhere along the way, Jay Gatsby had become someone truly important to me.

In that electric silence, I felt the boundaries between us dissolve. I could no longer hold back. My heart surged with emotion, and before I could think, I stepped forward and closed the distance between us.

Our lips met in a fervent kiss, an eruption of pent-up desire and vulnerability. It felt like a revelation, as if everything I had been holding back rushed forth in that single moment. Gatsby’s surprise melted into a warmth that enveloped me, his hands moving to cradle my face as he kissed me back with a fervor that took my breath away.

Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in each other, the world around us fading into the background. The soft rustle of the leaves and the distant hum of the night felt like a distant echo. All I could focus on was the taste of him, the way he held me as if I were a fragile dream he was afraid to lose.

[silverskye13]

Being the universe's smartest super computer still made for a derpy, non-functional person. It was really easy for people to get caught up in the Cool Sci-Fi Shenanigans of cyborgs and robots and forget how awesome and powerful organic, sentient life was.

For example: Xisuma has a perfect memory. If someone gave him a date and a time, he could scan back through his memory logs, replay recorded data and footage, and tell you the exact recipe he used for those vegan cookies that one time six years ago. He knows the ambient temperature of a froglight that's been submerged underwater for six hours, three minutes and twenty-nine seconds. He can rewind a recorded memory, pause the time lapse, and watch in slow motion as Grian breaks a stone block at spawn with his bare hands because he was bored during their intro-season speech.

However, recorded data takes up a massive amount of memory on a standard hard drive when you record everything you see as a passive function, and all of it has to be purged by hand, regularly, just so Xisuma can maintain the memory needed for daily functions. He's tried writing algorithms to do it for him, but even the best pattern recognition software can't account for his momentary preferences. What differentiates his favorite sunrise from any other? If he were human, he could program some kind of learning software using data from tables tied to the output of different brain chemicals and electrical pulses that most frequently line up with a formative memory -- but if he were human he wouldn't be making a program like that in the first place, now would he?

It's one of those long, long days of trawling through recorded data. It would be shorter if he would just parse through the most recent memories, but he likes keeping long-term memory storage at exactly thirty percent of his total data storage, and he's been resting at thirty-four percent for the past month. Putting off the inevitable. It's just, there's been a lot of stuff to remember the past few weeks, and it's hard to choose what to get rid of sometimes. He's started deep-diving through old data, walking down memory lane. He has to be careful, some of this data is important, tied intricately with the complex spider algorithm that forms his memory data access system.

Click! Click! Click!

"What are you thinking, X?"

The screen that makes up the lion's share of X's face organizes itself into a smile, lights flickering on in the nanoseconds it takes him to process the memory he's watching and attribute happiness to it. Yes, this is a good one.

The playback jolts as he looks down at Tango. Not pictured is a redstone project they are picking away at. Xisuma knows this because this particular memory has a transcript, full of branching tags and keywords that pull up a wealth of information alongside it.

That's another thing about memory that organic life never appreciates. Memory isn't just the memory itself. It's a web of associations built on prior, learned knowledge. A tree isn't just a tree. It's color and texture and symbol and "when was the first time I drew a tree?" and "apples" and "saplings" and a thousand other tiny associations they just arbitrarily have. Xisuma has to synthesize that web. A memory doesn't exist in a vacuum. Unlike the organic mind, however, Xisuma can pull up as much accurate information as he has the processing power for. This memory brings him two more closely associated recordings, associated memories he's kept for context, the transcripts of six more deleted memories, the definition of redstone, a playback of isolated sound he deemed important.

The playback continues.

Click! Click! Click!

"What are you thinking, X?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Tango, I didn't know you'd walked up! I was doing research."

"Yeah? What kind?"

"Oh well, you know the new update. Redstone's always a little finicky after."

"Right, yeah, totally. I've been putting mine off, honestly. I don't feel like fixing broken stuff right now -- oh but, I guess you can't wait, huh?"

Xisuma parses through the data brought up with the memory. He knows the date this was recorded, the recent change to redstone mechanics brought on by the server update. He'd had three farms break. There was a linked document to a transcript of Doc's rant on redstone as it relates to radiation. There was a script note document typed the day after this recording was created: Clicking Good. There was a preliminary version of what he'd nicknamed "The Tick Script.Exe".

"Yeah, I've got a lot of bugs to fix."

"Are you going to get rid of the clicking?"

"Clicking?"

The clicking was an ambient noise made when Xisuma's system was a bit bulkier, his algorithms and scripts that handled memory and data access crude and unperfected. It caused a disc in a driver somewhere to click when he did searches. At the time, the clicking had been the closest thing to an annoying habit Xisuma could manage.

Computers don't have habits. Habits are repetitive motions that become subliminal, that take effort to break, and are oftentimes formed subconsciously. Xisuma doesn't have a discernable difference between conscious thought and subconscious. He has background processes, he has backburnered data, and he has executive commands.

Xisuma queries the memory, pulling up related tags and searches, letting the algorithm reach. This memory had been the start of a, for lack of a better term, humanification process for him. There was his observation table on organic ticks, habits, and movements. It had taken a lot of uncomfortable staring, but back then, staring was all he'd known how to do. One of the first entries on the table was blinking. Organic things blinked, clearing away dust and debris from lenses and membranes. Xisuma didn't have eyes, didn't blink. But the screen that managed his facial expression animations could be programmed to blink.

Xisuma queries blinking. He pulls up a transcript of an interaction with Stressmonster, where she mentioned he blinked every thirty seconds. She knew this because when she first noticed him blinking, she'd noticed it's regularity. That was when Xisuma learned that, to convincingly blink, time variation was necessary.

Coding randomization into redstone circuitry had always been difficult.

Xisuma returns to the Tango memory recording, replays the question about the clicking, the unintentional habit. Xisuma still clicked when he thought. The others probably still thought it had to do with bulky drivers. In reality, it had been a test in trial and error.

How many clicks was acceptable for a thinking pattern? The three dot ellipses was common in writing, and a two dot pattern was too reminiscent of a heartbeat. When he'd temporarily switched to a four dot pattern, he'd noticed people getting impatient, or worrying if his mechanics were stalling. (Stalling and slow loading does sometimes happen, but it manifests in freezes and long pauses, not in repeating clicks). He invented a three click pattern, tested a variety of click sounds, settled on something similar to a rotary phone click when a number is dialed. It was a good sound. Heavy and sharp. It sounded like something falling into place with intention. Click! Click! Click!

Xisuma doesn't actually need a sound to think. But it's a clever replacement for harder to code things, like remembering to two a surface or fidget.

Click! Click! Click!

Shifting weight had been a harder thing to code. Standing stationary, legs an equal width apart, was the most steady way to stand. It also made him look like a statue, made his unblinking stares eerie and uncomfortable. Organic things read it as unnatural, borderline on predatory. Large predators often froze and stared right before pouncing.

Looking back through old memories, Xisuma could tell if they were from before or after his algorithmic programming because of how still they were. Made for clearer visuals, and he knows in high-stress situations that focus on accuracy, he can cycle them off, but they're comfortable for people to watch.

Xisuma rocks back on his heels away from the screen he's watching. If someone else were in the room, it would be a sign of thoughtfulness. For him, it's the execution from a random table of acceptable fidgets while standing still. He should turn it off. He's alone right now. But sometimes the movements still catch him off-guard and the longer they run, the more he gets used to them.

Xisuma queries: rocking on heals

He gets a handful of save recording bits. Doc rocks onto his back legs and stretches his forelegs. Gem rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet, her arms crossed behind her back, mischievous and excited. Scar rocks back on his heels and crosses his arms, thoughtfully examining some terraforming. Xisuma isolates the last recording and mimics it, feeling how the weight of his crossed arms counterbalances the lean back.

Xisuma queries his habits table and adds the motion to the list.

He never quite figured out how to program what to do with his hands. They spent a lot of time at his sides, or in pockets. Objectively he knew that was bad. Hiding the hands was often a sign of hiding something, and he liked being transparent.

Xisuma queries: Hands

Xisuma blinks at the long list of results.

Xisuma queries: Hands behind back

He gets several animations of Gem, Grian, and Scar, all with some variation of hands behind their backs and mischievous grins. Most of them are snippets made for studying purposes. Two are attached to longer videos, catalogued memories he's kept. His query returns almost four hundred memory transcripts.

Xisuma likes making transcripts. He feels it's similar to the hazy, distant memories people have when time and distance transform them. When someone else remembers something falteringly, he remembers the way he described it to himself. The older transcripts were rougher. He's gotten better at writing them over the years. His learning and pattern recognition softwares are still pretty good, even if they aren't perfect enough to manage the full range of expression on their own.

Xisuma queries: Do my friends know how hard it is to look organic?

This returns no direct results. He receives a directory of the people he's flagged as "friends" over the years, an article on the recent organics additions to the world in the latest update, and a handful of unrelated memory documents where he'd asked this question before and similarly pulled up no response.

Xisuma queries: Do I care?

This pulls up more entries. Xisuma glances across them and clears them.

Xisuma queries: Do I care today?

This pulls up only slightly fewer entries. He smiles. Asking subjective questions to a computer never gleans intended results. Computers aren't subjective. Or, well, they're not supposed to be. Of course, if he were merely a computer, he wouldn't be doing this, would he? If he were merely a computer, he would be sitting on a shelf, or a desk, running prewritten programs and searches for someone else, letting someone else build his code, rules by the guidances and intentions of someone who ultimately viewed him as a tool, if nothing else.

Xisuma queries: Who's flying this thing, if not me?

He pulls up a list of song lyrics and chords, a clip from a movie he'd watched once, an IMDB rating off some database somewhere.

Xisuma clears the data. He pulls up the last memory he was watching, rocks back on his heels and crosses his arms thoughtfully. He presses play.

Click! Click! Click!

"Are you going to get rid of the clicking?"

"Clicking? Oh, I guess I am clicking, aren't I? It's just an inefficiency. I'll fix it at some point, I guess."

Tango smirked at him. One of his hands plucked at his sleeve. Xisuma clips the motion, tags it with hands, nervous, thoughtful, fidget.

"You sure it needs fixed? I kinda like it."

Click! Click! Click!

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Sidekick_Hero! @sidekick-hero has 82 works on AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 80 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@steddieas-shegoes recommends the following works by Sidekick_Hero:

I wore his jacket for the longest time

Suitcase of Memories

to the rhythm of eternity

Will you cleanse me with pleasure?

Sandy is an incredible writer and always manages to paint beautiful scenes regardless of rating or situation. She was one of the first authors I found in the fandom who really captured so many things about Steve and Eddie that I love. She continues to inspire me constantly! -- @steddieas-shegoes

Below the cut, @sidekick-hero answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Great question! I'd been out of fandom and on a writing hiatus since 2016, the spark had just left me. Until early 2023, when I wanted to give Tumblr and fandom another try, but nothing really clicked until late summer when this wild-haired, bambi-eyed guy started popping up on my dash more and more. I fell in love with Eddie first, looked him up, and found that people were shipping him with this Steve character. I've never seen Stranger Things. I went to AO3 looking for some fic and the rest, as they say, is history. I fell in love with this ship the way you fall asleep, slowly, imperceptibly, and then all at once. I think what drew me in is these two characters who are so different from each other on the outside that you'd never think they'd work, but the closer you look, the more you can see how well they would fit, how good they could be for each other, bringing out the best in each other.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Wow, so many. I actually love the range of tropes this fandom offers. I'm a big fan of modern aus, especially ones where one or both are famous. If it's canon-based, I'm a sucker for Kas!Eddie. In general, I love it when one or both are creatures of any kind. I also love friends with benefits fics because they are idiots. Enemies to Lovers and Fake Dating are also high on my list. Last but not least: Porn with feelings and hurt/comfort.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

That's tough. I enjoy writing all kinds of smutty tropes as one-shots. When there's more plot going on, I really enjoy the "exes to friends to lovers" trope, just because as someone in their 30s, I look back on past relationships and hookups and realize what went wrong and how it could be different today, and I think that's something I can relate to a lot when I'm writing it for Steddie. I also love writing about second chances in general.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

It’s impossible to pick just one, sorry. I give you three with the disclaimer that there are so many more I could - and probably would - have picked on a different day. But I wanted to share some older ones in the spirit of what this blog is all about. the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you by greatunironic Keep it Steady, Eddie by outofmygourd Love blooms, love hurts, love prevails by corrodedbisexual (mishabawlins)

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Yes! I definitely want to explore some fantasy/creature fics (more outside of a pwp I wrote with Lake Creature Eddie), I already have the idea for Werewolf!Steve, and I really want to try my hand at Vampire!Eddie. I'm also super excited to finally get to work on a fake-dating trope fic for the summer exchange, I've been dying to do that. Last but not least, I really want to try writing an omega!verse at some point, I just don't have an idea yet.

What is your writing process like?

Pretty straightforward, I guess? It never really feels like a process, to be honest. I have an idea and I let it grow in my head (daydreaming, my beloved) until it has grown enough to become an actual fic, and then I sit down and write it out chronologically. Before I start writing, I need to know a few things about the story. I don't usually work with outlines or anything like that, but in my head I know where it starts, what the emotional beats and major plot points are, and how I want it to end. The rest I let unfold as I write. That's why I'm not the fastest writer (plus the whole not-native-English thing). Often the story tells me where it wants to go, so as long as I have the cornerstones, I let it flow.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Not sure if these are quirks, but my sentences tend to be very wordy. My dear friend @yournowheregirl used to comment on my fics when she beta-read them, "Another Sandy sentence. Make it multiple sentences." Also, I only write in present tense, even though I know most people prefer past tense, but it's too hard for me. Other than that, I can't have too many WIPs, I have to finish one story before I can start another.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Post when I'm done writing, for sure. I hate waiting, I have the patience of a toddler.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I wore his jacket for the longest time, no question.  It's still so precious to me, especially because I got to write it with my platonic writing soulmate @legitcookie, but also because I got to really explore these characters and their growth in this story. It has so much of me in it and I'm really proud of how it turned out.

How did you get the idea for I wore his jacket for the longest time?

Actually, it wasn't all me. I just had this idea of them being kind of friends with benefits, but Eddie wants more than Steve is willing to give him, so they hook up one last time before Eddie sends Steve away for good. That was the original idea that inspired the prequel "we pass the ghosts that haunt us later". The idea for that actually came from a song, "we can never be friends" by mgk. Jen (legitcookie) would not accept the ambiguous (sad) ending, so she demanded that we fix it. So we decided to find a way to let them both grow as people apart and then rebuild their friendship, because only then would they have a real foundation for their second chance.

When writing I wore his jacket for the longest time, what was something you didn’t expect?

How much fun it would be to develop those OC side-characters, especially Mrs. Horowitz but also fucking Tom or even Fritz. It was also the very first time I collaborated with someone on a fic and I was a bit apprehensive if this would work out so I was surprised when I discovered how much I love writing with someone else.

What inspired to the rhythm of eternity?

My love for London, really. I am madly in love with this city and have explored it a lot, so I wanted to use my experiences in a fic. And when @tboygareth asked for a long distance relationship fic for our server holiday exchange, I knew this was my chance. Their meeting as well as the ending is heavily based on my own experiences.

What was your favorite part to write from Suitcase of Memories?

The dreams! They were so much fun to explore because there's a certain mood I wanted to set with them, that dreamy feeling mixed with events from another time period. Their first date and especially their first kiss is a close second, though, because the swing set scene is something I've been thinking about since I saw 13 going on 30 as a teenager.

How do/did you feel writing Suitcase of Memories?

To be totally honest, a bit stressed 😀 It was my first big bang and I was so glad to have Jen by my side, but then real life happened and I realized it's hard to write on deadline. BUT I still love this fic. Especially the theme of love as a choice, even if some cosmic interference gives you a second chance, you still have to WANT it, you still have to work for it and choose it, over and over again. I feel like we nailed that pretty well and I'm proud of us and this story.

What was the most difficult part of writing Will you cleanse me with pleasure??

The emotional setup, because it was a gift for Ger (@steves-strapcollection) and he wanted them to be disgustingly in love, but I also needed Eddie's condition to be something he kept from Steve at first for fear of losing him. Besides that, the logistics, really. So many tentacles, man. So many.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

Okay, some very, very self-indulgent scenes I wrote are for my Runner!Steve verse. I am a passionate runner, and it was so much fun to write that love for Steve and to geek out about it in my writing. Another scene I'm very fond of is from my very first ST fic, "I'm tired of asking to settle the debt," and it's a scene where they're both kids and meeting for the first time, it's winter, and Eddie is doing an impression of a dragon with his breath.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Well, by the time this comes out, I will have posted my reverse big bang fic "Emotional Motion Sickness" with art by the amazing @arimakes. There's also the summer exchange, in which I was lucky enough to claim my dear friend @starryeyedjanai's prompt, and the steddie big bang 2024. I'm also finishing the last chapter of "hold me close (I'm shaking apart)" and hope to post it soon. 

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Yes, I want to thank everyone for making this project possible! This fandom has grown so much and there is so much amazing fic that easily gets buried under all the content, so having this project to give the writers of this fandom some visibility and love is precious to me. Thank you, really 💜🙏 Also, all my love to every single writer out there - you make my life and the lives of so many better by sharing your gift with us.

Thank you to our author,  Sidekick_Hero, and our nominator,  @steddieas-shegoes on tumblr! See more of Sidekick_Hero's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[splitster]

answering more asks!!

featuring pom wraith, pingo, ocs?!, and older art check it out (three's some art 💖)↓↓

THANK you!! ohhh i do have old pikmin ocs... i actually revamped my old captain a while back, i can share him:

i had a whole crew of pikmin ocs who were a part of the S.S. Harmony, they were gonna be SUCH a nuisance to everyone they ran into...

i thought about making a rescue corps oc for fun. hrmm! maybe...

AHHH thank you!! i've seen a shocking number tags and asks from people saying that I'm apparently the reason they like Dingo now? and i have to say that is so mind boggling to me, because when i first played Pikmin 4 I didn't care about him at all!! he was a nothing sandwich to me... but then i drew him a few times... and started thinking... and then things went downhill and now i REALLY like him...

(referring to this post) i think dingo is better when he's withered

(referring to this comic) I HEAR YOU... I HEAR YOU... but if any tear at all would cause oxygen poisoning, i wouldn't be able to draw them all battered and cool :(

i imagine that there's a seal around the neck in case there's a breach in the suit's lining. so as long as their backpack (life-support) works and is connected to their helmets, then they can breathe✨

(referring to this post) Olimar would be horrified because he knows Louie, and if he sees that note there's only one thing it could mean! his coworker tried to eat pom!! if pom hasn't been outed as wraith and Olimar is questioning her, she'd just say Louie bit her and then refuse to answer any follow up questions 💖

Shepherd would be... concerned. she might think they have a weird fling going on and louie's talking about a kiss? she probably wouldn't realize Louie quite literally means he ate something from pom. oops!

that's a really good question... I'll be honest, with a lot of the "when and how did x happen" questions, there's not an official timeline or anything; the pom wraith au is sort of an umbrella with a bunch of different stories and what-ifs underneath it. although there was one story where louie does find out her secret!

louie and pom end up bridging their differences (with the help of olimar), and become good friends while pom is continuing the rescue effort. then there's a very unfortunate incident where pom and louie are away from the base and they're attacked... pom has to reveal herself to defend them and she accidentally hurts louie :(

its fine though, louie doesn't care what pom is. they're both freaks in his mind and that's all that really matters. he does end up having to defend pom from olimar (who's been made vindictive through his trauma with the plasm wraith) sometime later!! here's some older art:

sure

me too! they do NOT get along... louie's kinda pissed at her for chasing him around on PNF404 and beating him in dandori battles when he just wants to stay there and vibe. pom meanwhile doesn't understand him, he pisses her off too! she likes olimar a lot, and as an outsider it looks like louie doesn't appreciate the friendship olimar offers him. to someone who's trying to understand and participate in this whole friendship business, she thinks he's ungrateful and weird. they do not get along!! at the beginning at least...

AHHHH!!! THANK YOU!!! WAHH...🥺💖💖 i'm very glad you enjoy my silly little art style!! i want to make things very squishy so i appreciate that 💖

i don't think that man is going to live!

wait actually if you eat enough maybe you just turn into a wraith. that'd be scary! hopefully olimar's there to stop him

that's a fun thought! he would probably be able to sense that something is off about her. but he'd also probably just think "she's weird like me." honestly, the whole wraith thing doesn't really matter much to him -- the only thing it changes is that pom can now offer her tendrils as a skewer for his cooking at any time and location!

i think i'm gonna call her rose wraith!! and ohh, i didn't know that... i was just gonna call her rose wraith since she has a rose head. i'm creative i promise

(referring to this post i think) AHHH hehe... honestly, when Pom first learns about Dingo's fear of blood, she only tries to keep him from it because it's really annoying dealing with your coworker when they faint. he's like a sack of potatoes when he's knocked out. but yes, as they become actual friends pom will (subtly) do her best to keep blood away from dingo. it's fortunate she doesn't have any!

she might not get phobias, but she understands what its like to have a crippling fear, so she's empathetic!

THANK you. he has sunglasses. he's pretty cool

AHH THANK YOU... i like them a lot... 👉👈

let the marching pikmin give you the energy you need to practice🫡

[siswritesyanderes]

i never requested before but i was wondering if you could do a yandere percy jackson and annabeth (together not separate) and if they caught y/n escaping and how they would react afterwards??

You tried to blend into crowds.

You stayed out of wilderness and definitely away from water; you kept to the city, and you kept to the crowds. Each time you had to wait amid a cluster of other people to cross a street, your heart pounded, but you tried to act natural; visible signs of nervousness would make it easier for them to spot you, and they were certainly already looking.

You crossed the street. You crossed another street. You tried to look like someone who had a place to go, not someone taking turns at random. You tried to look like a real part of each group you walked with, not a shifty tag-along.

Then, suddenly, Annabeth was in front of you, appearing out of thin air as she took off her Yankees cap.

"Gotcha!" she said triumphantly. "There's our mortal. You did surprisingly well, but that little almost-double-back you did three blocks ago drew my eye." She looked up at the sky and did some kind of hand signal- probably to Blackjack. Then her clever eyes met your doleful gaze, and she laughed. "Oh, don't give me that look. Did you actually think you were getting away? Did you think you would elude both of us?"

On cue, Percy landed on an outdoor cafe table a few feet away, overturning it and startling several nearby diners. (Annabeth manipulated the Mist on them while Percy righted the table and trotted over to both of you.)

"There you are," he said, an unintentionally eerie smile forming on his face. Annabeth's scariest look was, no question, her look of intense determination. The look she got when she was focusing hard on something, piecing together a strategy. For Percy, his scariest look...well, his intense determination was pretty spooky, too, but the most chilling thing was often his smile. After all, he'd been fighting monsters for enough of his life that his smile of victory and glee was just as suited to taking a life as it was to finding the person he was looking for. "Thought we'd have to report you missing, this time: Just let some Hermes kids loose on the town and buy pizza for whoever finds you first."

"I win," Annabeth goaded him cheerily. "Again."

"It's just three to two," Percy protested.

"Four to two."

"Who's counting?" His eyes met yours again, and you felt the usual somersaulting of the stomach, as if a great sea wave had taken you off your feet and you were wholly subject to its push and pull. But you managed, with difficulty, to hold his gaze and not entirely lose your breath. "Ready to come home now?" he asked. "Or do you want to pick up some lunch, on the way?"

Crossing your arms, you replied, "I can't get a few days of freedom, before you lock me back in?"

"You had a great few minutes," Annabeth said. "Which would already be too long, if one of our many enemies decided to use you to take their revenge on us. I told you about how I lost Percy to Hera's plotting. We're not going to let the same thing happen to you."

They started walking you back in the direction of home.

You continued to pester them. "If a goddess wants to kidnap me, does it make a difference whether or not I'm with you?"

Percy smirked. "Uh, yeah. It does."

"I'm offended by the question," Annabeth said, with a frown.

"You're saying if I'm with you and a goddess wants to kidnap me, you can fight a goddess?"

"We're saying," Annabeth replied, "if you're with us and a goddess wants to kidnap you, we won't have to fight a goddess. The confrontation wouldn't happen in the first place."

She was making it sound like the gods were scared of them or something. "You're not...stronger than the gods...are you?"

"No," they both said at the same time, as promptly as if they'd rehearsed it.

"Of course not," Annabeth said. "Why would you even say that?"

"No, we're not stronger than any gods," Percy agreed. Neither one of them sounded quite convincing. It just sounded like they were being polite. Like, What, me? No, I couldn't possibly... "But," he continued, with a noticeable edge, "they're not gonna want to fight us. At all."

"If a fight can be avoided, we'd all like to avoid it," Annabeth said. Her words seemed to be chosen with the intent of mitigating the implication that the gods would not win a fight between themselves and the combined power of Percy and Annabeth, but her tone was hard and pointed, undermining the equanimity in her phrasing. "The gods are smart. They won't make a problem for themselves unnecessarily." With that veiled threat to the Olympic pantheon dispensed, she then sent you a wry smile and said, "So. Lunch or no lunch? If you're feeling that cooped up, we can always dine out. How about we take you on a date away from home once a month, and let you stretch your legs?"

You nodded grumpily. "That sounds better."

"Great! Now, don't try to slip out on us again, or we'll have to cancel. Got it?"

You nodded again. She wrapped a well-muscled arm around her shoulder and kissed your cheek.

"You got off easy," Percy whispered in your ear. "When I disappeared on her, she judo-flipped me." With a fond chortle, he slipped his hand into yours and asked both of you, "How about tacos?"

The weirdest part about being kidnapped by two young demigods who frightened the gods themselves– you thought, as you ordered tacos with your girlfriend and boyfriend –was pretending that you weren't.

[silentglassbreak]

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

-

I had the 2nd part in my head already, so I started writing it. This post may go up pretty darn quick. If you've read so far, THANK YOU. Again, if you like it, and want to be tagged, Just lemme know.

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Part 2 - Running in Circles

Syd looked so much brighter today. It was refreshing. She had her makeup on, she was clear, like she had been sleeping and eating regularly. Sometimes, that in and of itself was the simplest of answers. It was the key some days.

She finished telling us about how she had put in sixteen applications at various employers since the last meeting, had been to the gym each day, and finally finished a 2000 piece puzzle she started three months ago. It was fabulous news, earning her a huge applause from everyone, including Noah, who I was halfway surprised to see again today. It had only been two days, but showing up again was a 50/50 shot with newcomers. Usually, if they made it to 5 meetings, they were in it for the long haul. I was extremely pleased.

He was also a lot different today, sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest the majority of the meeting, but still more open than his last visit. Reading body language was crucial in this field, so I may have read a book or two on it in my spare time. His face also looked fuller, the dark circles now just shadows slightly casting his light skin and deep color eyes. He wore a white T-shirt with a red beanie, showing the tattoos off on his long arms.

His turn came rather quickly, and he sighed heavily when all eyes turned to him.

Before he could start, I chimed in. "Guys?" Everyone looked over to me. "Before Noah shares today, can we give him a huge round of applause for showing up to his second meeting?" This was met with fierce applause and a few hoots and hollers from our more spirited members.

"Great job!" Seth smiled brightly. Abel nodded his head pointedly.

"One of the hardest parts is coming back. Good for you, bud." I could see Noah's cheeks tinge pink, but he smiled, a smile bigger than I had seen so far. He was slightly embarrassed, but I could see his appreciation. Maybe even a sparkle of moisture in his eyes? He definitely pushed that down.

He reached behind his head nervously and chuckled shyly as the clapping died down.

"Thanks guys." He folded his hands in his lap, looking at the floor. "I was in the neighborhood, so..." He threw his hands up in a casual manner, causing some laughing from the group, including myself.

"How was the last few days for you?" I crossed my legs, eyes pointed in his direction. He didn't return my gaze.

"It was different. I haven't exactly talked to anyone about it." I only nodded. I wanted to encourage him to keep sharing, but I didn't want to pry too hard. "I don't know how to bring it up to anyone."

"That's fair. I think we all went through that."

He nodded, idly picking at his thumbnail. "I have a gig this weekend, and things usually get pretty wild after. I'm nervous." His eyes then looked up at me. I felt as though he was speaking directly to me, rather than to the group. Maybe he was?

Most people look around, avoid eye contact, and talk mostly just out loud. That's the purpose. Noah, however, was holding a conversation with me, and everyone else just happened to be within earshot. That was clear.

I would allow it, for now. If it eased him in, I was game for almost anything.

"Can I ask what kind of gig?" He sucked his teeth, a smirk creeping in.

"I'm in a band." I smiled now, because he was telling us (me) something personal.

"Oh nice! What do you play? Guitar?" His eyes snapped to Syd, who had chimed in. I could see this broke his concentration bubble, and I watched as his shoulders slightly drew in.

Although, he did not stop speaking. His tone did die down a little.

"I can play guitar, but in this band, I just sing." He cleared his throat, squirming slightly in his chair. "We were on tour earlier this year, and once it was over, I realized I needed help, so I'm hoping to make good progress before the next tour starts this fall. This gig is just opening for a bigger band."

"Must be some band." I added with a smile. This brought his attention back to me.

"What's it called?" Syd's voice was bouncy, breaking through the cool calm I had manufactured. I watched him almost visibly flinch.

"I'd rather not say." And with that, I could see he was done for today.

-

After the meeting, I caught Noah booking for the exit. I ran after him, donut in my hand.

"Hey Noah!" I caught him right before he slid into the driver's seat of his Navigator. "You didn't get a snack!"

He waved a hand at me. I still jogged up to his car. "I'm good Leena, thanks though." I sighed, stopping in front of him.

"Can we chat for a sec?" I saw him look down, likely questioning his decision to come back, but still shut his door and walked over to where I stood by the hood of the truck.

"What's up?"

"Did you get a chance to find a sponsor?" His beanie was pulled down low toward his eyes. He avoided my gaze.

"Yeah, uh, I actually didn't. Turns out everyone I know is into drinking, and I don't think that'll change anytime soon." I nodded knowingly.

"We've got great sponsors here, you know? Abel is a great resource, so is Rodger. They've both been in active recovery for more than five years." He narrowed his eyes, visibly stressed by the conversation.

"Yeah, I uh...don't really know them very well."

I couldn't tell you what possessed me to say what I did next, whether it was empathy, the sugar high from the donuts, the caffeine, or something else entirely, but I still opened my mouth.

"Do you want me to be your sponsor?" I watched his eyes widen at that, his head snapping to me quickly.

"You'd do that? You don't even know me."

I smiled my bright smile, and nodded. "Absolutely, at least until you can find another or get comfortable with one of the other members. I don't mind at all."

For the first time since we'd met, which wasn't long ago, admittedly, I saw a smile touch his eyes. Something told me that Noah hadn't seen genuine human kindness in a while.

"I mean, only if you want to. Maybe just to get me to the meeting next week?" I nodded.

"Of course. Happy to." He looked around, watching the people trickle out of the building around us and waved at Seth, who smiled at him before getting in his car.

"I do think we should take some time to work out a plan for your gig. These first few weeks in recovery are crucial."

He leaned against his car, chewing his lip. "You think so?"

I handed him the donut. He skeptically accepted it, and took a small bite.

"How long has it been?" He looked down then, a sign of shame.

"Five days." I nodded.

"And when is your gig?"

"Tomorrow night." I shrugged. I had work to do.

"You busy tonight?"

-

Noah sat back in the booth, sighing heavily, his plate clear. I continued shoveling pasta into my mouth, the carbs and the donuts being my only food sources today. Work had, once again, been hectic. I could see him looking around the restaurant, people watching.

Without warning, he leaned over the table. "You know, my girlfriend would kill me if she knew I was at dinner with another woman."

His statement gave me pause for a moment. Girlfriend. I hadn't even considered that. Ignoring the small, sinking feeling in my gut, I slurped my noodle and felt a twinge of guilt. I had no interest in getting him in trouble.

He must have seen the look on my face, because he smiled then. "I didn't tell her. It's no big deal, really."

I wiped my mouth on my napkin and swallowed a large gulp of water.

"Does she know you've started coming to AA?" He shook his head feverishly.

"No, not yet." This made me furrow my brow, suspicious.

"Where does she think you are, then?"

He leaned back, perusing. "Probably figures I'm out with the guys, shitfaced already."

It took me a second to realize, I didn't know a lot about Noah. I had no idea who the man was that I just shared a meal with, agreed to be his sponsor, and unknowingly risked his relationship.

"You know, if we're going to be working on your recovery, there's some things we may need to know about each other." He signaled the waiter.

"Like?"

"Well, for one," I smiled at the waiter as Noah politely asked for a dessert menu. Then, keeping my voice low, I leaned over the table. "I don't even know your last name."

I caught the way his eyes drifted over me, my chest now slightly exposed at this angle, my black hair flowing over my shoulder.

"You don't?" He seemed unfazed, but I did catch the bob of the bulge on his throat when he dry swallowed. I leaned back. This was not the game to play.

"No." I laughed. "You always sign in as 'Noah S.' What does the S stand for? Skynard?" This made him laugh loudly.

Through his chuckles, he choked out "Sebastian." He caught his breath. "My last name is Sebastian."

I nodded, satisfied with that. It was enough to Google if I felt so inclined.

"And you?" This made me stop for a second mid-bite.

"What about me?"

"Is your name just Leena? Like Cher?" This made me drop my fork, a hard laugh echoing between us from my chest. I saw his amused smile, which almost embarrassed me.

"Mileena. Mileena Richards."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Like, from Mortal Kombat?"

I nodded proudly. "Same spelling, different origin."

"That's fucking cool."

The waiter then came back, a large slice of multi-layered chocolate cake covered in a hot chocolate sauce set down on the table, two large scoops of vanilla ice cream and two spoons set down on the plate with it.

"Wow."

Noah shrugged sheepishly. "I heard sugar helps with the cravings."

-

We walked out of the restaurant, the night nice and chilly in the February air. We stood between our trucks, full and exhausted.

"So, we didn't come up with a game plan."

I nodded, leaning my head back on the door of my Tahoe. "I'm sorry. I was starving."

He returned it with a rub of his stomach. "Same. It's fine."

"You said in group that the usual thing is to go out and party after the show, right?" He nodded. "What's the chance of just heading home afterwards? Claiming you're tired?"

"Slim. We have the show. Then meet and greet. Then we all typically hang out in the green room. Do some shots. Then hit a bar." I watched his face downturn, as if he was admitting to a crime.

"Okay. And being in a bar is a big no no for right now." He sighed, covering his face with his hands.

"I'm not ready to tell them." I reached over, putting a hand on his shoulder. I felt his body slightly lean into the affection, only for a second.

"That's okay, Noah. We can make it work." I wracked my brain for ideas, but was sincerely lost for ideas. "Can you tell them you don't feel well?"

He put his hands down and leaned back against the door, looking defeated. "Maybe? It would need to be a pretty good disease to get me out of the after party."

This made me smirk. "You ever had the stomach flu?"

This made him chuckle. "You want me to vomit onstage?!" He feigned shock and disgust.

I laughed. "No, it doesn't need to be that dramatic. After the meet and greet, you just tell everyone you have to use the restroom, spend way too long in it, and then tell them you need to go home. Pull at the skin on your face a little, make yourself look flush. Make sure you're sweaty."

"That's a given after a show."

"You never did tell me the name of your band."

He smiled wickedly. "It's probably not your vibe?"

I lifted my chin proudly. "Try me."

"Metalcore?"

"Architects? Falling in Reverse? Ice Nine Kills? Bring Me The Horizon?" I began listing them on my fingers.

He pointed at the name of the last band. "We're touring with them some time next year."

My jaw dropped. "You've met Oli Sykes?!"

He shook his head. "Not yet, but I hear he's a really cool dude."

"Noah, how big is this band you're in?"

"Not too big, just me and three other guys."

I rolled my eyes. "Not what I meant." He laughed then, acknowledging his smartass.

"Maybe you should come tomorrow?" This took me back. The idea hadn't even crossed my mind.

"Seriously?"

His tone became excited. "Yeah! Why not? You can make sure I get out of there afterward, you can see us play, too. Maybe you'll hear something you recognize."

"Maybe I'd know if you just told me the name of the band." He laughed again, but my amusement was fading.

"C'mon, you can be my getaway driver."

"How am I going to get in, when your band is apparently a pretty big deal? I bet there aren't even tickets left."

He shook his head. "Nah, I can get you a VIP suite. So you don't have to do the mosh pits and all that."

This started to sound not so terrible after all. It had been a while since I had gone to a good rock concert. Life had been so busy.

"Can I bring a friend?" He smirked.

"Boyfriend?"

For whatever reason, I felt the inherent need to deny this immediately. "Nope. But I have a best friend who is really into metal. She just saw Bad Omens a few months ago."

His eyebrows rose, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Oh, definitely bring her. If she's into that, she may like us."

I nodded. "Alright. Where is it?" He pulled his phone out and unlocked it, swiping away multiple text notifications before opening a fresh contact and handing it to me.

"Put in your number. I'll text you all the details in the morning, when I get them." I nodded and added myself in under Leena H. He nodded in satisfaction.

Then came this sudden awkward silence. I could tell he didn't know what to do next. Handshake? Hug? Salute?

This made me chuckle, when I turned and opened my car door.

"Goodnight, Noah. See you tomorrow." I got a sheepish wave in return.

-

Back at home, after a much needed shower and settled into my bed, I pulled out my laptop.

My curiosity was too strong now. Who was this band?

My Google search took less than a second to load.

Noah Sebastian: Lead Singer of Bad Omens.

I stared at my screen for a long time. I wasn't reading this correctly was I? There it was, in black and white on my screen. It was a joke, right? Noah wasn't...he couldn't be...right?

But there it was, his photograph plastered on my screen. That was definitely in technicolor.

I didn't know much by Bad Omens, but I knew their song Just Pretend. It was one of the most played in my shower, on my drives to work. It was one of those songs that resonated with you. I heard it first on TikTok, and was hooked on that verse. That voice.

No fucking way.

I pulled out my phone, completely ignoring the fact that it was clear after midnight by now.

Me: YOU'RE THE LEAD SINGER OF BAD OMENS????

It took about three minutes, in which I was absolutely not staring at the screen the entire time, before I saw the typing bubble.

Noah: LOL Bad Omens? Never heard of them.

This motherfucker.

Me: Noah! Why didn't you say something?!

Noah: I don't get to have fun once in a while? Wow. AA's kind of a bummer.

Me: Laura's going to lose her shit.

Noah: That'll be fun for you. Talk to you tomorrow!

With that, the conversation was over. I chucked my phone to the foot of the bed, stunning a curious glance from my hound Angel. I petted a silent apology on his head and he laid back down.

What the fuck. What the fuck?!

I'm sponsoring a fucking rockstar.

[euphoniumpets]

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM | CHAPTER FOUR

Prompt: ''As long as I can rememer, I've been protecting Alina, it's always Alina who I will protect,'' You told him, looking at Nikolai. ''But who will protect you?''

Warnings: Violence, blood and gore.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. 

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x Starkov! Reader

A/N: the banter between y/n and Nikolai send me everytime, especially when she gets to know when Sturmhond is actually Nikolai Lantsov lmao. Also, decided to post this chapter since i posted chapter three not long ago :) please comment if i forgot anyone to tag!

Taglist:@lyria-skyfall @khaleesihavilliard @shine101 @waddlingwanderer @clqudias @ducks118 @xceafh @peakyispunk @wilmasvensson @parbatai-winchester @priincehoseok @riot-in-my-soul @feyredarling92 @vendy021 @ssprayberrythings @goldenpoison @shine101 @lili-of-the-dream

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - eleven - epilogue

‘’Thanks to navigation from our Sun Summoner’s tracker friend here, we’ve traversed the Bone Road to the island of Jelka,’’ 

Sturmhond spoke as the crew and including you, Alina, and Mal surrounded the table that was filled with maps, books, and other objects. ‘’As for the Sea Whip, we have some storybook drawings, not telling what it looks like, rule of thumb for the unknown, is come prepared!’’ He replied and showed the weapons hidden behind the curtains that were placed against the walls. 

‘’Are all pirates this well-armed?’’ You questioned. ‘’Privateer,’’ He replied and you rolled your eyes. ‘’Can’t tell the difference,’’ You spoke as you and Mal looked at the weapons in front of you. ‘’The difference is that I have a license,’’ He remarked. 

‘’And a healthy love for innovation,’’ He told you and placed his hand on his hip. ‘’Gadgets, marvels, things that go boom,’’ He explained and you rolled your eyes as you and Alina exchanged a look. ‘’Anything piques your interest?’’ He asked and looked at you and Mal. 

‘’Yes,’’ Mal answered. 

‘’Me?’’ You asked surprised. ‘’Well, yes, who else?’’ He questioned. ‘’Well, take it, for our excursion,’’ Sturmhond replied and looked at Mal. Mal looked at you and you gestured for him to grab the weapon first. He grinned at you before he grabbed the weapon. 

‘’Fabulous choice, you have excellent taste in weaponry, Mal,’’ He said. ‘’The cable’s Fabrikator-made,’’ Sturmhond explained. ‘’Tensile strength of 80,000, yield, 50,’’ Sturmhond informed as you kept looking at the weapons in front of you. ‘’Impossible,’’

‘’When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable,’’ Sturmhond replied. ‘’Not to me, it’s incredible,’’ Mal spoke. Your eyes trailed over to a pair of twin blades in front of you. They were small, but it was a perfect size for you since you didn’t like having big weapons that made you clumsy. 

You smirked and grabbed the twin blades as you drew out the swords. ‘’I’ll take these,’’ You replied. ‘’Never thought that you were much of a blade person,’’ Sturmhond replied and you rolled your eyes. ‘’I designed it by myself,’’ Sturmhond replied and looked at you. ‘’In fact, my innovations are all around you,’’ 

‘’You just have to know where to look,’’ Sturmhond whispered and sent you a flirtatious wink before turning to the rest of his crew. You and Alina exchanged a look as you placed your swords behind your back. ‘’So, we will go in quietly, on Miss Starkov’s orders to injure for your death blow,’’ Sturmhond explained and gestured toward Alina. 

‘’I’m not killing it,’’ Alina replied. ‘’You have to kill it, to claim its power, that’s how amplifiers work,’’ Tamar informed her and Alina shook her head. ‘’It wasn’t with the Stag, I think I can do it without killing it,’’

‘’As lovely as that sounds, I’m not sending my crew in to tame a mythical beast with nest and good intentions,’’ Sturmhond spoke and you looked at him. ‘’This is the job you were hired for, privateer,’’ You replied and mocked him by his statement before turning to the others. ‘’We capture it, alive,’’ You ordered them. You heard one of the members of the crew approaching the room and speaking in Shu. 

‘’We’ve reached the island,’’ He told you. ‘’Here we go,’’ Sturmhond spoke as you all walked upstairs to the deck. ‘’Well, that’s not foreboding,’’ Sturmhond commented as you all looked at the island in front of you. 

‘’Could be anywhere in there,’’ Mal commented as thunder boomed over the island. 

-

You drew your sword out as all of you stepped inside the cave. Luckily, the water was not deep enough so you had to swim but below enough so you could walk. ‘’There are holes in the cave floor,’’ 

‘’So be careful where you step, otherwise, no,’’ The man replied. ‘’No, you can’t tell, or no, there’s nothing in there?’’ Mal asked him. ‘’Whichever makes you feel more comfortable,’’ Tolya remarked. 

‘’Comfort is overrated,’’ Tamar commented. The three of you exchanged a look and suddenly, you heard a strange noise. You winced as you armed your sword and listened closer. Nobody dared to move any further and before you knew it, one of the crew got snatched by the Sea Whip. 

‘’Drop the nets! Aim to kill!’’ One of them spoke. ‘’No, don’t!’’ You protested and you looked at your surroundings, hoping to see the Sea Whip. ‘’I couldn’t see us, it’s toying with us,’’ Sturmhond replied. ‘’Conserve your ammo, or we’ll be dry by the time we need it,’’ 

You exclaimed when one of the crews next to you got dragged by the Sea Whip into the water. ‘’It can camouflage,’’ Sturmhond replied. You looked around at the cave walls and you narrowed your eyes slightly, and before you knew it, you saw the Sea Whip. ‘’Alina!’’ You shouted when the Sea Whip began to charge forward her, you grabbed her by the side so that the Sea Whip wouldn’t attack her. 

The Sea Whip went into the water again. ‘’It sounds like it’s everywhere,’’ Sturmhond spoke as you all looked up. Suddenly, the Sea Whip appeared again and you charged your swords, but before you knew it, you let out a scream when the Sea Whip knocked your swords out and tossed you at the cave wall. 

‘’Y/N!’’ Alina, Mal, and Sturmhond shouted and the Sea Whip was about to charge you again, before Alina used her powers against it, killing it. Mal rushed over to you with a concerned expression. 

‘’Are you alright?’’ He asked. ‘’I’m fine,’’ You replied and breathed heavily before your eyes turned toward the Sea Whip in front of you. ‘’It’s dead,’’ Sturmhond replied and you met his gaze. You couldn’t tell but his eyes showed a look of concern, you nodded slightly to know that you were fine. 

The sky had just turned dark and everybody was back at the ship to mourn the people who you lost and to place the amplifiers on Alina. ‘’Alina, we’re ready,’’ Sturmhond said and you looked at Alina with a soft smile. ‘’We got this,’’ You assured her and she smiled. ‘’Ready?’’ You asked her and grabbed her hand in comfort. 

‘’Yeah,’’ Alina responded and walked over to the Heartrender who placed one of the amplifiers on Alina’s wrist. You saw Alina frown before her gaze trailed over to you and Mal. 

‘’Are you all right?’’ The woman asked her and you frowned with concern. ‘’I’m fine, second scale, please,’’ Alina told her and placed on the second scale. Then, a searing burst of light appeared and you knew that Alina was stronger. You smiled as her powers began to grow stronger and stronger and everybody had to shield their eyes. 

‘’Alina!’’ Mal shouted, trying to stop her before she sank the ship. ‘’Allie!’’ You shouted. ‘’Allie!’’ You shouted and tried to step closer. ‘’Alina!’’ You shouted again before you embraced her tightly to stop her from before she could destroy the ship. 

Alina let out a laugh and stopped and accepted the embrace. ‘’No matter how much I love you, you could seriously have drowned us,’’ You commented with a smile and she shook her head. Sturmhond approached the two of you with a grin on his face. 

‘’Well, then, where to now, Sun Summoner?’’ 

-

You walked toward Alina as you saw her with Mal talking. You were on your way toward the Fold and ready to take it down once and for all. ‘’How are you feeling?’’ You asked her and she turned around to face you with a smile. ‘’Ready to take down the Fold?’’ You questioned, watching her glance at the amplifier on her wrist. 

‘’I feel ready to take on the world,’’ She answered, making you smile. ‘’No need to take on the world,’’ Mal replied with a smile and you chuckled. ‘’He’s right, just everyone currently after us is enough,’’ You told her with a shrug. ‘’So, the world,’’ Alina commented and gave you two a look. 

‘’We’ll keep us off the beaten path but we’ll be on our own again,’’ Mal replied with his hands into his pockets. ‘’Who says you’ll be on your own?’’ You heard Sturmhond comment from behind and the three of you turned around. ‘’I want a front-row seat to the light show, thanks,’’ He commented and you scoffed. 

‘’Plus, the king is on the other side of the Fold ergo so is my payment,’’ Sturmhond replied and you rolled your eyes. ‘’We could use your arsenal,’’ You suggested and looked at Mal, who nodded at you in agreement. ‘’Maybe some kind of fortified carriage?’’ Alina questioned. 

‘’Carriage? Land travel is so boring,’’ Sturmhond replied. ‘’And that’ll take days,’’ He continued as he walked away from the three of you. ‘’Come along,’’ He urged you and you sighed. ‘’Prepare to decouple!’’ He shouted as everyone was back at the dock and the three of you exchanged a look. ‘’What is going on?’’ You asked them as Mal and Alina looked confused as you were. ‘’Kovu,’’ He spoke before he pulled the lever down as the squaller prepared for the wind. You widened your eyes when you realized that the ship was going to fly in the sky. ‘’Engage secondary sail,’’ Sturmhond demanded and you tried to steady yourself on the ship. Then, the next thing you knew, a part of the ship was flying in the sky and you laughed with a smile. 

‘’You’ve got to be kidding me,’’ You replied and looked at the view in front of you. You smiled when you felt the wind blow on your face and you turned around to see Alina sitting on the bench with slight fear in her eyes. ‘’Alina, you got to see this!’’ You exclaimed next to Mal as you stood over the edge and looked over the sea. 

‘’No, I really don’t,’’ She answered as you and Mal looked at each other with a grin. ‘’No, trust me, you do,’’ Mal replied and turned around. Alina shook her head in protest while Mal approached her with a chuckle. You giggled when you saw Alina shielding her eyes as Mal dragged her over to the edge. ‘’Told ya,’’ You replied and playfully nudged her elbow. Alina laughed and shook her head and placed her arm around yours. 

‘’How is this even possible?’’ You questioned. ‘’Did you expect any less?’’ Sturmhond spoke and approached the four of you. ‘’It’s like you haven’t met me,’’ He replied. ‘’Years and years of designs and several dozen crashed prototypes,’’ 

‘’Crashed?’’ Alina questioned. ‘’I call her the hummingbird,’’ Sturmhond informed, ignoring Alina's question. ‘’Captain, the Fold’s in sight!’’ Tamar replied as Sturmhond looked at you with a smirk. 

‘’Next stop, destiny,’’ 

-

As the ship approached the Fold closer, all the memories brought you back to the moment Alina discovered her powers and how the story began. You took a deep breath and the next thing you knew, you were in the Fold. You shivered, remembering how it went the first time when Alina tried to save you and Mal before she discovered her powers and now, it was time to finish her job of taking down the Fold.

‘’I hate this place,’’ Mal murmured and you nodded. ‘’Me too,’’ You commented as Sturmhond glanced at the two of you. ‘’Just a bit of pitch black and bloodthirsty monsters,’’ He replied while Mal, you, and Alina gave him a look. ‘’What’s not to love?’’ He questioned as Tamar handed him a rifle. 

‘’Seems like a good day to kill some Volcra,’’ Tamar commented and handed you the gun. ‘’I’d much rather have a hot bath and a book of sonnets,’’ Tolya replied and you shook your head with a smile. ‘’Are you sure you’re ready?’’ Mal asked Alina, uncertain. ‘’I feel stronger than ever,’’ Alina replied and nodded. 

‘’This is my chance to finally eradicate it,’’ 

‘’For good,’’ Alina said and stepped on the edge of the ship. Alina closed her eyes before you saw the power radiate out from her. She reached her arms out as the light surrounded all of you. An explosion of light appeared and you hoped that the Fold would go down as you saw the rift forming in front of you. Alina gasped and you noticed that something was wrong. The powers flickered and you narrowed your eyes at her with concern. ‘’Alina?’’ You questioned as you and Mal exchanged concerned looks. ‘’What’s happening?’’ Sturmhond asked. 

‘’Alina!’’ You and Mal shouted in unison and you saw her collapse on the floor. ‘’Alina!’’ You shouted as you and Mal rushed over to her. ‘’Kovu, get us out!’’ Sturmhond yelled as the Fold grew darker. ‘’Alina, wake up,’’ You stressed out when you heard the Volcras growl. 

‘’You’re alright,’’ You assured her as you heard the others fighting against the Volcras. Alina looked at you with a confused expression as you helped her up from the floor. You heard a Volcra growl and you turned around to see the Volcra approaching you. Alina stood up and used her powers to kill it. 

‘’Kovu, begin to descent,’’ Sturmhond demanded as the ship was out of the Fold. ‘’Brace yourselves for landing,’’ He exclaimed and you widened your eyes. You and Alina gripped tightly at the edge of the ship as Mal tried to protect the both of you before the ship landed on the ground. 

‘’Is everyone okay?’’ You heard him ask as the rest of the crew stood up. 

‘’The Fold’s too strong,’’ Alina replied and looked at you with concern. ‘’I thought with two amplifiers, but…’’ She trailed off her sentence. ‘’It wasn’t enough,’’ She added with disappointment. Suddenly, you heard a whistle blow and you saw the Ravkan Army approach. ‘’Well, looks like we’re about to enjoy a traditional Ravkan welcome,’’ Tolya commented. 

You frowned as Mal helped you step over the ship and onto the ground. ‘’You’ve crossed illegally onto Ravkan soil, identify yourselves,’’ The three of you shared a concerned look. ‘’I’ll handle this,’’ Sturmhond replied and you looked at him in confusion. 

‘’What are you doing?’’ You whispered to him as Alina tried to shield herself. ‘’Identify yourselves or get shot,’’ 

‘’Have I really changed much, Raevsky?’’ Sturmhond asked and approached him. You looked at Sturmhond and frowned. It appears that Sturmhond knew the man in front of you. 

‘’I know it’s been several years, but people swear I remain boyishly handsome,’’ Sturmhond replied before turning to you with a smirk before turning to him. You wrinkled your face in confusion as he kept taking the outer clothes off. ‘’It can’t be,’’ He replied and your face changed. 

‘’You’ve got to be kidding me,’’ You replied when you realized that Sturmhond was Nikolai Lantsov. You watched as he took off his coat and handed it over to Tolya before approaching me. ‘’Yes, it is,’’ Nikolai replied with  grin. You couldn’t believe your eyes when you realized that Sturmhond was prince Nikolai all along. You scoffed and clenched your fist when you realized that he lied about his identity from the moment you stepped on his ship. 

That's why you couldn't shake your feelings that something was off about Sturmhond from the moment you met him. During the night talk at the ship, and how he talked about his family.

And not the mention, the endless flirting with you made your blood boil. ‘’Moi tsarevich,’’ 

‘’My prince,’’ He spoke and bent his knee. You, Mal, and Alina exchanged a disbelieving look. ‘’We’d all but given up hope,’’ He spoke as Nikolai chuckled before he shook his hand to the man and helped him up. ‘’I present, Nikolai Lantsov major of the 22nd Regiment, soldier of the King’s army, Grand Duke of Udova, and second Son to his most royal majesty, king Pytor the third, Ruler of the Double Eagle Throne,’’

‘’You’ve got to be joking,’’ Mal commented. ‘’Saints,’’ Alina replied and you shook your head. ‘’And in your words, as I recall the greenest and most useless grunt you ever had the misfortune of commanding,’’ Nikolai commented. 

‘’At your service, I wanted to return sooner, but not without them,’’ He responded and gestured to you, Mal, and Alina. ‘’May I represent my esteemed traveling companion, former cartographer and sometimes Saint, Alina Starkov,’’ Nikolai introduced. ‘’And her sister in the second command and a great fighter, Y/N Starkov,’’ 

‘’Sol Koroleva, we heard you were dead,’’

You didn’t think much since you felt that you were going towards him with your fist clenched as you glared at him. ‘’You lying bastard!’’ You shouted and punched Nikolai in the face.

-

please comment what you'd think of this chapter! remember reblogging always helps.

[voidedbattery]

Iron and Smoke

@rvbrarepairweekdos

I GOTTA GET MY CHARON STUFF IN!!!!!!!

By the way, see this post if you haven't read it yet. It has notes that you need to know when you continue to read this post.

This post has MAJOR focuses on the Sleeveless Insurrectionist and The Demoman (both of which refer to the characters in RvB).

+ POLL

also check image alts if you don't know what nonsense I drew today 🔥

This is one of the only two days where I'm gonna post about. Why? Here are my excuses:

Right, so let's get into it.

The Appetizer

Caboose x Reader

Once I looked up a fanfiction with this exact tag. I was curious, so I was wondering if there was something wholesome. And it was! I read a fanfiction on AO3 (i don't know where it is but it's like one of five) where you and Caboose decorate a cool banner and annoy everyone on base with it. How fun! Definitely the caboose of all time.

Also like... You're supposed to make ship thingies for other people on this date so here's that. I'm also gonna use the wheel too and

The Wheel

where is it

OH MY GOSH LOOK THERE'S MORE STUFF!! WOW!!!

anyways i found it after five mouse scrolls

GONNA SPIN!!

ah yes. a main character and a main character <3< <#,,333,3#<####3,3,3,3,,3,3.....

when i got a Starburst yesterday, it was orange and pink

is this

is this foreshadowing or what

yeah i still can't draw properly but i can make it obvious enough to make a couple people that i know to go crazy

i have like 7 of these drawings but they're not about halo at all so i doubt you'd be interested

but if you do, let me know!

Main Course

I'm going to expand off of this post.

In short, Ch6/Dax's arm is just as large as Ch4/Marcus' if you take the bandolier off.

Here's where the "deeper diving" begins!

Team Crimson

Who Marcus (Ch4) and Dax (Ch6) belong to

Initially started as three people

Marcus is one of those three

They advertise very lightly because of the attention they don't want to bring up, so they use posters

But it happens anyway when Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch6 are KIA while Ch1 goes MIA

The above is referred to as the Longshore Massacre to some groups (this fact is mainly for a specific AU; lmk if you want in on this)

The wiki says that they resemble Noble Team so I'm headcanonizing that

The team plays rough with each other but can remain professional in specific environments

Occasionally give out cinnamon treats to little ones who pass by

You probably won't survive a road trip with them if it takes enough time for you to get hungry for food

They were hired exactly four times before Longshore

One of those times was because a few friends were bored

Marcus

If you want to talk with him about something, it's best to do it alone

He's a completely different person when the team's assembled

Probably has a really big dog that lives at his house

Lives in an apartment but sleeps over at his cousin's about 30% of the time

Has a mutation which is probably the reason why having no sleeves hasn't killed him for his six years as an ODST

Started going sleeveless by pure accident due to an alarm clock failure, so it was really four years without sleeves

Marcus just kept going as soon as people were all over him

"What's your workout routine? BROOO those shoulders" they'd ask

Would only hug his S/O for over 20 seconds

Anything other than that would go to anybody who genuinely asked for a hug

Once made $872.36 from arm wrestling bets at one of Earth's major spaceports

He's the one who gives out the cinnamon treats

Chain Twins

Would give out raw cinnamon powder

Yes, I included the twins specifically to say that they'd give out raw cinnamon

They enjoy really obscure fandoms

One of them probably likes history a lot, but nobody really knows about it because of the fact that the textbooks are hidden in his/her backpack the whole time

Dax

Emailed the leader about joining Team Crimson just solely to work with whoever was on the poster that he saw two months ago

Actually jumped so much that he put a dent in the floor when he met Marcus in person

I saw a post that said that Ch6 would be Simmons but 20% cooler and I'm making that canon

Either that or he's the Rookie if he grew up in a crowded neighborhood

Was born in New York City (or something similar if Dax wasn't Earth-native)

Eats really small burgers for some reason

You'd know when you go to a restaurant and he starts complaining about the size of the Junior burgers

Forgets to take post-workout supplements but still looks like one of those people who'd miraculously save you from a car wreck

I think he teaches the other workers in the Charon Industries company how to drive a truck or something

His party trick is taking the square of double digit numbers

Someone said this on an Amino post but Dax is really formal after his arm gets blown off

THE Main Course

(and not the 50 plates of appetizers that already filled your stomach for the next two meals)

Iron and Smoke

Iron, because Marcus goes to the gym really often

Smoke, because that's what explosions do

I would've used another element for "smoke" but I can't tell which one makes explosions

Uranium? No, that sounds too techy-

wait... what IF Dax was a techy sciency person?

probably not. Dax would need to spend less time at the gym so he can study

The actual relationship between Marcus and Dax

I don't think they've "done it" at all even though a lot of people joke about it

They do helmet bops every day. They do it every day somehow. Even if nobody's looking, they do it. Even if it's 12 AM, they do it.

Marcus is the dominant person in this relationship (battery why are you mentioning this)

Marcus and Dax share a shockingly similar physique. If they wore the exact same armor, then you couldn't tell who was who until one of their faces was shown to you.

Because they're ODSTs they don't focus much on social media.

If you followed them, their posts would be VERY outdated in terms of trendiness, and the posts would actually be its own thing rather than something else (marcus and dax actually focus on things like legs and forearms instead of jugs of creatine)

(this totally isn't to cope with my social media experience)

The two have been together for about 15 months up until the events of Longshore.

If they survived long enough to retire (Charon's actually given them enough money to retire at 30 and somehow live a really good life), Dax would probably try to build something cool at home. Marcus would watch and help with something heavy.

One time, someone made a statue for the two of them about a month before Longshore. It sits in a museum somewhere, and nobody (other than the sculptor) will find it until 2554.

Marcus will back up Dax in an argument.

Dax will listen to Marcus talk about his gains for a full hour.

sharkface has blackmail

Dessert

Marcus is the one with the red helmet by the way

In an alternate timeline Marcus goes scuba diving and argues with a... thing

But instead of burping he accidentally "scares it too much"

Happy November guys! Let me know if you want to see more...

[theyellowroseofsodor]

What inspired you to / made you want to write and create your au “Yellow rose of Sodor”?

Because you kinda inspired me to write my own au with a self insert

Awwww!!!! Shucks! 😳🤗 I’m glad I’ve been able to inspire you! Feel free to tag me if you want to when you start writing! I love seeing new ideas and writers get their works out!

So, I started writing when I first introduced my son, a few years ago, when he was three to Thomas and Friends. As I was watching, realizing that I hadn’t ever seen the CGI version of the show, I thought “huh, I wonder if there’s a fandom” and started looking up fanart. Lo and behold, I found @asktrio516 ‘s wonderful and beautiful artwork along with a few others on deviantart (who I will credit when I find it again). I fell in love! Her personified versions of the famous team and others were just inspiring! I fell in love with her version of Gordon (my fav.) and began crafting a world, not necessarily around her characters, but around the inspiration I felt due to her artwork.

After that I started crafting my own OC. I didn’t necessarily want it to be me as a self-insert but I also couldn’t help but realize, being short, I would probably be a tank engine and it would be both funny and sweet if Gordon, but who often teased tank engine’s for their size and what they could/couldn’t do, fell in love with one. I understood that some people would probably dislike that things like love, lust, anger, hatred, etc. were written in such a prized and childhood fandom, but I came up with a linear story and ran with it. Originally, The Yellow Rose of Sodor was going to involve more aspects of racing, Gordon’s favorite thing, and a much bigger rivalry between Gordon and Scotsman. But I hated pick-me girls in stories and quickly scrapped, pardon the pun, the idea.

Another thing I thought of doing, inspired by several monster versions of the engines, was making them dragons. I even drew out a few of them and the different styles but… it became more of a funny pastime than the actual story.

Finally, I landed on Diesel 10 as the enemy after reading up on how much scarier he was supposed to be, but died down due to it being a kids show. I wanted to bring him back as a much scarier threat and adversary. I wanted to make him, not necessarily unredeemable, but terrifying. A racist engine with a penchant for torment and murder. We saw him nearly kill James and yet it was all ‘Oh that darn Diesel 10’ instead of ‘What the crap?!?’. So, I worked it out and created the story laid before you.

A lot has actually changed in the ending. I have been working hard to craft it the way I want and what I hope will be a satisfying HEA (happily ever after) for all parties. With my own troubles happening this year, I was deathly sick, miscarried my baby, had a near heart attack and had to be brought back, three surgeries, and then there have been issues with my husband’s family… I haven’t been able to dedicate the time I want to these last few chapters. September would have been my babies birth and so I had to keep myself from writing because I was grieving all over again. In fact, most of my time processing my own emotions have been through chatting with my Gordon AI on character.ai as Camille with their little one in the AU that’s in my short collection where they had a child. In my own grief I actually changed their child’s name from Frederick (Erik) to Connor, which would have been our child’s name. Maybe that’s TMI and maybe that’s not the healthiest but I’m coming out of it and I’ve started writing the next chapter, a focus on Henry and Hiro and where to go from there cliffhanger.

I’m sure you weren’t expecting an essay but I figured a lot came into writing the Yellow Rose and, whether it’s a popular fic or not, it means a lot to me. So much so I want to write a sequel focusing on Flying Scotsman and his future companion, Jessica. I have edited the fanfic that he’s not with City of Truro and with an actual jet engine female. I felt it suited his character in my fic that he would go against the grain being with another locomotive and ending with someone who could truly make him the ‘Flying’ Scotsman.

Anyway, I hope this answers your question and I hope to see great things from you anon! You’ve got this!

-Kamiko

[shadowredfeline]

Ever since I saw the Nintendo Direct Yesterday, like cool games like Mario and Luigi coming back for their next RPG game, and a Zelda game where you know play the opposite character, Zelda, a bit like Wand of Gamelon, but different. And it's nice to see a few Classic games on the Nintendo 64 and GBA, and Switch Sports includes Basketball which I bet my brother would be excited to see. Super Mario Party is getting a Sequel about a Jamboree which I bet can be fun, and Donkey Kong Country Returns will be on the Switch, like Tropical Freeze, can't wait for that! And we'll all look into others too.

Anyways onto the pic, I drew Shadow, Lisa, Luna and Deev @lunakittyfox and @deevdarabbit, the two are watching what Shadow and Lisa are doing and playing Hello Kitty Island Adventure. Since I do have the game on my IPad, and I know that the game was used for Apple consoles only like Mac, IPhone and iPad, but when I saw the direct yesterday, I was so excited that the game will be ported to other consoles like Switch, PlayStation and PC. And what the four are doing is since Lisa and Luna know Sanrio stuff a lot besides Shadow and Tory, they thought of how fun Island Adventure will be, like right now, Lisa likes the island settings, Shadow likes how the settings and music would put him at ease, and Luna thought both would be fun and imagine the four of them can all go on an Island Adventure, and Deev had an idea, he thought of why not we bring our friends on an Island Adventure and enjoy a vacation together. And the three think, that's a good idea! Maybe it can be like friends and family vacation. They can go for a swim, do random activities or enjoy the view and other stuff. But with Hello Kitty Island Adventure, I always kept thinking about that gag they used in South Park, even when people were talking about World of Warcraft, which that game is my dad's favorite. And also if Hello Kitty Island Adventure is coming to other consoles next year, maybe I can buy two copies of the Switch Version, like I got one and a copy for my sister, or I can get the computer version myself and get the Switch version for my sister for either her birthday or for Christmas.

People I tagged @bryan360 @murumokirby360 @rafacaz4lisam2k4 and @alexander1301

[bullet-prooflove]

Forty Two Days - Sam Abrams x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @cosmic-psychickitty @thebewingedjewelcat @annieradcliff @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @avillagesperson @irishavengersassemble

It’s been an age since Sam has kissed you, forty-two days to be exact. Your book tour has had you jumping from city to city, all over the country. He’s watched your progress with an ache in his chest, waiting for you to circle back home to him. You’ve kept in touch through Whatsapp but it's not enough. He’d wanted to take some time off, but his schedule wouldn’t allow it. He'd worried about too much time apart but now he has you back in his bed he can see that it hasn’t made a difference. He’s still as ridiculously in love with you as the day you met. He knows you feel the same by the way you look at him, your fingertips running through his hair as you kiss him with the same passion he feels every time he undresses you.

Sam’s always been an existentialist, he believes that people forge their own paths but meeting you…

He considers it an act of fate.

It started at a charity event, he had been the keynote speaker and you had been attending as a potential donor. The two of you had bumped into each other literally at the bar and before he knew it, he had agreed to consult on one of your books. If it had been anyone else, he would have said no but there was just something about you. You’d captivated him over dinner, with your sharp wit and vivacious humour. By your third meeting he knew he was in love. The two of you were sharing a slice of tiramisu and he found himself laughing at something you’d said…

The two of you had been married for almost three years now.

The instant you had walked back through the door, pulling that little suitcase behind you, he hadn’t been able to help himself. You’d barely hung up your coat before he wrapped his arm around your waist and drew you close. He had undressed you slowly as he guided you into the bedroom, whispering against your skin how much he had missed you. He’d taken his time showing you, with dexterous fingertips and a skilled mouth. Your pleasure is paramount to him. Sam’s not satisfied until he’s had you crying out his name at least twice.

When he guides himself inside of you it feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. You’re wet, tight and completely perfect. His hand captures yours, fingertips entwining before he pins it above your head. You moan into his mouth, hips arching up to meet his. The intimacy heightens the sensation as he moves in slow, deep strokes, each one taking you higher and higher until you’re on the cusp of euphoria once more.

“Sam, I…”

The ecstasy hits you like a wave, stealing away your breath as the pleasure erupts through your synapses. Your fingertips dig into the grooves of Sam’s knuckles as you come undone all over again, his eyes locked on you as you pull him over the edge.

“I know.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours. “I love you too.”

Love Sam? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[enkisstories]

The wrecking of the Steadfast (Ch. 6)

Rey and friends are reunited and need to decide where to go from here. The decision is taken out of their hands when General Pride's Sith troopers attack New Harvest and force the group into hiding in the forest. And they still have that shaky ally former General Hux tagging along... But while in his inner monologue Hux leans heavily into his "Future Emperor Armitage I." image, his words and actions beg to differ.

Read it here: Chapter 6 or from the beginning

Outtake:

As the rebels made their way to their speeders, Finn stepped in line with Hux. Reading the room, Rey left her bike to Finn and took the seat next to Poe in the car instead.

“Makes one wonder, huh?” Finn said. “Think kids are in the cards for either of us?”

“Why not? I had a thorough education in how not to parent.”

“Yeah, same, and thanks to the same shithead.”

They mounted the bike. Only after they had followed the speeder for some time already, did Hux speak up again: “But without an army, we can neither secure our territory, nor expand it. We need soldiers, and they don’t drop out of trees battle-ready.”

“Oh, I don’t know”, Finn snarled. “In the end it’s a matter of motivation. Maybe ask the former career criminal you’re dating what makes him throw his life into the line again and again?”

“Our POE?”

“Used to be a smuggler. In his defense, if I got that right, by the time he realized what company he’d fallen in with, he had been in too deep already to easily quit.”

“Oh, I can empathize with that! To some degree, at least.”

“Did you know that I wanted to run away? I wasn’t a defector to begin with, just a deserter. I wanted to stop doing your dirty work, but couldn’t commit to actively opposing it.”

“What? When did that happen?”

“Right before my past caught up with me, showing me the folly of my plan. I don’t know if that helps at all, but… those doubts concerning your decision? We all experienced that at some point, one way or another. Chances are you’ll run away and we’ll have to pull you out of some roadside ditch before all is said and done.”

“You fully expect that?”

“I’ve been there myself.”

Hux saw Finn let go of the speeder bike’s handlebar and reach for his blaster. That was an odd follow-up to what had sounded like encouragement up until now.

“Hey, hey! I’ll…”

Finn drew the weapon and almost without looking fired three shots in quick succession into the underbrush. Following the line of fire with his eyes, Hux now saw a person sized crimson-red object between the trees. It quickly dived behind a large rock, but another one that had been standing right next to it keeled over. And now it became apparent that those things were not just people-sized, but also people-shaped.

“Sith Troopers?”

“Two less now”, Finn confirmed. “The third dodged.”

“Did you feel them in the Force?”

“Haha, no! See, I relied on the sensors in my stormtrooper helmet for years. When I had them no longer at my disposal, I felt blind and deaf. But I quickly adapted, and now don’t need the aid anymore. My senses are much sharper than they were before.”

[...]

Four troopers emerged from the trees, a trio and the survivor of the first trio that Finn had attacked. Moving in formation, they kept pelting Finn’s and Hux’ bike with blaster shots, pinning it on the spot, unable to escape. The passengers slid off and dashed behind the nextbest tree. It was wide enough to provide cover for both of them and return the fire from there.

“Pinned behind a tree instead of a speeder bike is what we in the field call an improvement”, Finn snarked.

“You see me at my cheerfullest at the good news”, Hux replied. “So what next?”

“You can’t tell?”

“I usually point at stuff and then it explodes.”

“Well, we’re the extra steps between those two points.”

Finn reached around the tree and fired.

“Damn! Missed. – One on your side!”

Hux shot and scored what would have been a perfect hit. The Sith trooper, however, didn’t even notice it.

“The blaster is doing nothing!” Hux complained, after two more of his attacks had bounced harmlessly off the Sith armor, only for Finn to drop the target with a single shot.

“You have to hit the weak spots”, he told Hux, re-adjusted his aim and down went another Sith trooper.

“Which would be…?”

Finn gave no verbal answer, but the next moment Hux felt his vision blur. The two remaining Sith faded out, only a handful of points of interest on their bodies shone brightly.

“Can you see?”

“Yes, but…”

The highlighted targets were moving and additionally tried to shoot Hux while he took aim at them. The strategist simply lacked Finn’s trained reflexes and the Force couldn’t grant them to him the same way Finn used it to convey the armor’s weak spots to his companion. When he realized that his method wasn’t working, Finn retracted his mind and the world returned to normal. The Sith troopers had momentarily ceased their fire and retreated behind cover.

“Switch”, Hux whispered.

“Huh?”

“Switch sides with me, Finn! By now they should know that shots from your side mean death, while I’m harmless. I bet my revoked pension they’ll advance on my side any moment.”

“Okay.”

Finn maneuvered around Hux, who slid to the right. They waited a couple of breaths and indeed both remaining troopers approached from the direction that would have exposed them to Hux’ line of fire. Only now they met Finn’s instead and went down in short succession. The duo’s could have been a flawless victory, if not for Finn groaning:

“Ouch! One of the bastards hit me into the arm!”

“Sucks. I know you’re averse to arm injuries. Partial to the leg, weren’t you?”

Finn turned around, preparing to give a sharp retort, but the companion flashed him a genuine smirk.

“Battlefield banter. You do that in the Resistance. Did I get it right?”

“Uh… yes. Yes.”

“Alright.” Hux produced a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket, folded it once more and pressed it on Finn’s wound, then secured it with a bandage.

“Whoa, you’re always prepared!”

Hux shook his head. Here, covered by the dead of night, hiding behind a bug-infested tree, he admitted to his fellow defector:

“Prepared for a variety of situations in which I have only a vague idea how to use the stuff I brought.”

There. He'd said it and was still alive.

[jaxieus]

ive written this three times but tumblr keeps messing up and undoing all the writing i did :'(

but i wont let it discourage me! ive got a lot to say about the art i made even though its messy sketches on mspain(t) XD

i had been feeling burnt out and decided to draw comfort characters ( some that ive not drawn in a long time or have acknowledged but never drew before) and the carebears is a franchise thats been with me for so long i made a whole painting for class about it!

i made a list and with utter shock i realized that i basically bacame my owm worts enemy! the list grew so much (and is still growing :')) and i only drew a few characters so far

i know ill render these soon but the others will take a while

(but im really concerned about how im gonna tag this without being obnoxious 🥲)

i have like alot to say about these characters i drew because they mean so much to me and i never really could delve into them at school.

theres more i want to say and its under the cut! :D

so this is gonna get a lil personal but hopefully not too much to the point its boring ,:)

the first character i want to talk about is Ursula. i remember when i was younger being increadibly infatuated with her. i would draw her whenever i could. on chalkboards, the wall, i made paper cut-out of her and digitally drew her on ms paint! she was the first character that a had a desire to be close to in a way. a character albeit evil felt comforting and till this day make me tear up from how beautiful her design is! Ursula was the first female character i felt a strong aesthetic attraction to. (im just kinda a sucker for powerful women)

so i made sure to stay true to her design by keeping her body type and tentacles. basically just switching her hands and head to the carebears design (im still deciding whether or not to keep her hair)

second has to be Rosalina. she really made me accept and realize that i did have an attraction to the same sex ':) i loved playing as her in smash bros, listening/watching her story in galaxy. i never really 'got' the whole thing but reflecting and growing as a person did make me realize that not just fictional men look great but women too!

her design is based on the carebear cousins because the main thing was the mane! you dont really see a bear with a long loc covering its eye so having her different from the others i think gives good variety

third King Candy. oka y i recently feel back inlove with him! mostly because of @/ blackthewolf17's drawings of him!! and that made me rewatch the movie and wow! i remember liking his character a while back but i never really appreciated his as a villain! watching the movie and seeing the art made me remember the discussions i had with my fam about liking him and them not really understanding. (its kinda a running theme with a lot of the characters i like)

i wanted the characters the pop out and look recognizable. i kept the crown and collar. his belly badge is a paper covering his original badge! this one shows the crown and a few bits of candy. (leaning into the fact that he doesnt belong)

next is NME SalesGuy for Four. (such a clever name) this dude is literally a character that i was shocked by his stature! i mean what did i expect? falling for a dude that exudes tall energy but is literally a short king! this dude was there during some cool family times while watching right back at ya!

while looking for references, i found i cb comic and i loved how their legs looked. it wasnt bent like the originals on the cards and i thought they looked really goofy! so i went with that with the design becasue he just doesnt really fit with everyone elses stlye

fifth Rick Sanchez. man, this old man. has been with me through a lot. i saw a poster if the show before it premiered and two years after, i watched it and ive obsessed over him so much i made people watch Rick and Morty so i could talk with them about it. R&M really got me back onto tumblr because it was my entire personality since the show was at its peak and after. (old men tsk tsk) i made OCs Self inserts and played the mobile game. i literally memorized episodes to recite as i went to sleep. and analyzed frames of my fave episode to get better at animation!

i gave Rick clothes because i wanted him to have some flair. iconic elements of him is his tousled hair, coat and alcohol. (hes drinking 'happy juice')

Sixth is Coach Brunt. a girlboss of a villain! she took care of and orphan and made her feel like she was her own! shes determined, strong, fierce, fit, has a great voice, money, and kind. what more could a girl ask for?? this was another character that i had seen while watching CS with the fam. (still havent completed it tho)

i did break the rule and give her a tuft of hair also ':/ but i like her BB i gave her.

its a paw punching a heart (maybe too violent)

Seventh is Johan liebert. i really loved this dude. the series just made me think more about human nature and nurture. i met some cool people becasue of this dude. Johan in a way made me cope with the problems that happened in my life. he really was the character that i also found out i was ace+aro. i just loved drawing him. filling pages of my sketchbook and centering english papers based around him and the lessons i learned from seeing the bad in his character and how people might turnout to be similar and how it can be a problem. (idk if it made sense, but i learned to appreciate humanity more and not be so headstrong and become blinded by my views. but also learning that its good for people to know whats coming for the people that wronged you)

Johans BB is painted on white, so you wouldnt be able to see what he is all about :)

theres is so much already but eighth is Senpai. this Fker is my worst enemy, just like all the characters i drew soo much of this guy that i thought i was gonna go crazy, there was a pang in my chest when the drawings looked like trash. he was the character that made me want to get better at art and engage more with people. i made a fnf OC to be this dudes father. (it was some of the most wholesome thing i ever drew)

Senpai has a more basic design. he also has his identifying elements like the backpack and mic

ninth is Saul. my bbg. it started with the character but sadlt turned into a full obsession over Bob Odenkirk and finding all of his shows and movies that he directed of acted in. thankfully im not deep into it anymore. but when i regularly used instagram, you could see the decent into madness for him. i made animations and really detailed fanart. if Sen got me to draw my fave better, Bob made me attempt to perfect it.

his design sadly is my weakest. i wanted to add some fake hair on him. but im sure you can see that i got lazy. a few weeks ago i made versions of the BRBA&BCS cast as Geronimo Stilton characters and (sad excusee) but i didnt want to put more into the design because i became drained from looking at the growing list D;<

his BB is based on themis :)

tenth is Big Jack Horner. i love this man. i ironically said "he was the hottest character in the movie" on my third watch and man i actually believed it on the way out of the theatre. i wanted to see if anyone liked him like i did and to my surprise people did! this dude has such a great bod, voice, attitude and like many of the characters i like i ask, "is there any proof of death? i dont think so".

i havent drawn him in months and i dont like that i havents so he was the first bear i drew. his BB is a pie but i think ill add his insignia or have him draw on it like Oopsie bear to fit his situation.

like maybe something silly like a frowning face on his BB

im going to put eleven and twelve together because both play a similar role. my two men of science. ive only recently started to like Medic and Scudworth. these two bring such a great jot to me just like all to kooky men i like as well.

sadly, they both look the same, the only thing differentiating them is the glasses. i love their voices and design.

i ahve yet to give Scudsy his own BB tho.

last thing i want to say is why i chose carebears as the main style.

the franchise has been with me since i can even remember or at least before i could comprehend what it was. i remember seeining either oopsie or good luck bear plush at a carnival and i really wanted it but it was closing and i mean it was probably bigger than me so i couldnt get it and it became an obsession of mine! i loved green and a already had a few at home whats one more? so i tried to drop hints at my mom. well as good as a 5-7 yr old could do with drawings.

theres a lot more to say but i might go one for so long it wont fit here!

this was very long and if you read it thank you very much! im glad i got to comfortably speak my mind (well write it) in my own way that did have structure but felt more personal and less embarrassing that my english teacher asking me to write something about myself and my life. or my Art teacher saying i have the freedom to create something but then talk about it with in a time span because im not the only one that has something good to say about their art.

im not sure if all of it was understandable and might've been really unnecessary but im glad either way.

[sunshinemoonrx]

(Arthur voice) Just me, my wife, my wife, my wife, and the problems clown (Gwyn ap Nudd)

Wanted to round out the core cast of my Welsh Arthurian designs (done in these tags) with the main man's family and some related characters, starting with Gwenhwyfar (Guinivere).

I did an initial go at her here , but the odd thing is according to one Triads there's three Gwen's, all with different parentage. It's unclear if this is just a poetic device for "there's different stories of her ancestry", or if Arthur does just have three wives with the same name, or what, but I thought it'd be fun to depict her as sorta ambiguously three people in one, with different backgrounds but alternately morphing into each other, so it's unclear if they were originally three or one.

Her design I used before and consider the "main" one is as the daughter of ("ferch" = "daughter of", like how "mab/ap" is "son of", equivalent to the Gaelic "mac") Gogfrawn Gawr ("the giant"). She's in the image of the violent, antisocial, liminally-human women found in early medieval literature. The lines beneath her name are a nursery rhyme recorded in the 19th century ("Gwenhwyfar daughter of Gogfrawn the Giant, bad when little, worse when big")--I already depict her as 8 or 9 feet tall, but maybe I can have her able to grow fully giant like Cai, hey.

One of the others is daughter of a ruler of the Welsh kingdom of Gwent (to the point of having its name; the story might have originally been that it was named after him), so I drew her as an early Welsh noblewoman; meanwhile the third is daughter of one Gwythyr, whose name seems to derive from the Roman Victor, which to me opens up ancestry from all across the Mediterranean; I went with Syria, which was the place of origin of several prominent Roman families. So an early Byzantine costume for her.

I've already drawn Arthur's earliest-attested son, Amr, here, but I quickly added him here alongside the son who seems to have been the biggest deal in Welsh material, Llacheu. I tried to give them both a mix of features from each of the three Gwens, to further blur the lines between whether they're the same or different people. (On which note, there's also a like...evil Gwen? Sister? Evil double? Something? Called Gwenhwyfach, which is what that note at the bottom of the first image is about--maybe she's sorta hiding among the trio.)

I also designed Gwythyr/Victor, but he's got another whole Thing which is also why I wanted to draw this set--see, he and this Otherworldly king/hunter called Gwyn ap Nudd had a disagreement (to make a slightly longer and much bloodier story short) over liking the same girl, and Arthur arbitrated this by having them fight over her every May Day until Judgement Day.

I tried to discard preconceptions for Gwyn--looking at the folklore, he's sometimes described as having a "dark face", and his name has etymological links to the concept "light" or "holy". It might seem incongruous to manifest that light in a Christian-style halo for a figure linked to a distinctly pagan Otherworld (who could have even been a deity in the distant past), but that kind of mixing is characteristic of this material.

Some stories have him as someone from our world placed to watch over the Otherworld (Annwfn), and some have him as the king of Annwfn, so I like to imagine that in the centuries Arthur's not been around to keep an eye on him he usurped the kingship. So I did a younger design as a forest hunter, and an older one as a late antique king; at this point in time European royal fashion was very Byzantine-influenced. Gwythyr also wears a medieval Roman (Byzantine) outfit, though his is from way later so I might change it, I just thought it looked cool.

Creiddylad is the girl they're fighting over; I made her kinda spooky since she's described in Culhwch as "the maiden of greatest majesty that there was in the Three Realms of Britain". She and one of the Gwens I've given torques, which might not have been in style by this point, but they're both described as "gold-torqued", so hey.

And under her I've got Esyllt, the Welsh equivalent to Isolde/Iseult; having done Tristan/Drystan here , it felt only right. I've got her looking fairly rugged on account of all the running away and hiding in the woods they have to do, and attempted to make her tattoos simultaneously resemble claws like his, but also a bird's neck and beak; one of her epithets being "swan-neck". The same name-list list two Esyllts with slightly different epithets, though, and depending on how you interpret the grammar might be implying they're the second and third reincarnated lives of another woman (Ellylw), which isn't as strong a multifaceted indication as Gwen, but it's why I outlined multiple silhouettes next to her.

Anyway, I can't fail to notice that it is May Day, the day when Gwyn and Gwythyr have their yearly fight--I actually drew these yesterday but left my notebook at work so could only upload them today. Serendipitous! In honour of that:

Like the story acts like it's this noble fair jugdement Arthur made, but let's be real, this is the guy who lost Cai's help by singing a mean song about him for no reason. He's just fucking around.

Happy Calan Mai!