#I just want more kid Icarus content

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

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summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4.1k

content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour 

notes:  speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge

the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00

PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild 

All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well. 

Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours. 

Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 

The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it. 

After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss. 

Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster. 

You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty. 

Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”

You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse. 

The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp. 

Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got. 

Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery. 

It was cute. 

Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley. 

Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over. 

The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan. 

He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.

His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name. 

He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow. 

You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.” 

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”

Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.” 

Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”

“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.” 

He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion. 

“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.” 

“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.” 

You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”

“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly. 

“And that?” 

“The Amphitheatre.”

You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did. 

You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”

That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”

Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face! 

You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered. 

During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp. 

(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)

Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill. 

Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day. 

But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go. 

When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked. 

“Hey, now we can match. How cute.” 

He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”

“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response. 

But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes. 

Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet. 

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable. 

But you really needed to pee. 

After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door. 

“That’s not your bathroom.”

You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke. 

Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”

“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”

“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”

“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”

“Yes.”

“But…it’s cold out there.”

“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”

You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!” 

He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up. 

“Be quick.” 

Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed. 

You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan. 

“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”

“And then what happened?”

“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”

You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence. 

When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m showing you around today.”

“You showed me around yesterday.”

His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”

“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”

“Archery.” 

Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour. 

“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.” 

Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.” 

You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t. 

He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”

You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater. 

You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”

“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”

You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “

Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”

He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”

You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be. 

“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).

You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off. 

It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close. 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?” 

You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion. 

“So, where are you from?”

He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe. 

You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!

Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything. 

“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.” 

He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse. 

“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”

A chuckle, “What?”

But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?” 

You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.” 

“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on. 

“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”

Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”

Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”

You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation. 

You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”

You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow. 

“What’d you do to him?”

You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”

He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”

You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.

[rip-quizilla]

To Gareth, From Ronnie

A/N: This is based off the prompt for Day 3 of @corrodedcoffinfest- Day 3: Best Friends

Summary: Ronnie writes a letter to Gareth detailing the truth about being Eddie Munson's best friend. (Ronnie is a character from Flight of Icarus by Caitlin Schneiderhan, but you don't need to have read the novel to understand this piece!)

Word Count: 442

No content warnings other than strong language!

Divider credit to @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Gareth,

If you’re reading this, it means I’ve already left Hawkins. I told Jeff to put this in your mailbox for me since my flight leaves early in the morning; I wanted to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into here.

It is not easy being Eddie Munson’s best friend.

Sometimes it feels like it is, I know- he can make you smile in an instant, he has a joke for literally every occasion. He never knows when to quit trying to make everything seem okay. He can talk his way out of anything, and no matter how long you’ve known him, his talent for getting himself into trouble then back out of it within moments never ceases to amaze. 

But here’s why I’m writing you this letter- the real secret about Eddie.

He is loyal to a fault. When you have his allegiance, it’s for life, and by that I mean he would probably give his life for his friends if he thought it was the right thing to do. You’ve seen it firsthand; how many times have you found yourself in deep shit, only for Eddie to save your ass? Who’s the one getting himself beat up time and time again just so you can have an opening to run away? It’s noble, yes, but it isn’t sustainable, kid. 

He can only get beat up for you so many times. I know it isn’t what you want to hear, but you need to stop being so fucking reckless. You don’t have to pick every fight you see an opportunity for, because from now on it isn’t just your ass on the line. Eddie’s going to put his there too, every damn time. Because that’s how he shows people he cares about them. 

It’s how I know he cares about you, because I’ve seen him get more black eyes with your name on them than anyone else’s. 

Eddie makes mistakes- big ones- but he always wants to do the right thing. Sometimes he’s going to think that the wrong thing is actually the right thing, so he needs…direction. Frequently. Hope you’ve got a strong moral compass. And a larger capacity for forgiveness than me. 

Between Hellfire Club, taking my place as drummer (good luck with that, by the way), and Eddie repeating senior year, you’re going to be around him a lot. He won’t say it out loud, but he’s going to need you. He’ll have the rest of the younger guys, I know that, but he needs a right-hand-man. I think you’re up to the challenge… but hey, maybe I’m wrong and you’re a total loser. 

Please prove me right, Gareth. For Eddie’s sake.

Ronnie

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

Needless I went off the rails with this one! LMAO

This became an excuse to draw Celarthur/Merthur content in different scenarios & and outfits. And I had too much fun with the designs of each one.

Sun King & Moon Queen AU:

Basically, I was watching Lego Monkey Kid and this happened! I really wanted to do something that really got the essence of the show. If you watch the show you can really tell I kinda (or a lot) based it around the Lady Bone Demon & Sun Wukong. And of course some classic Chinese folklore...

It is a total rom-com scenario, with the Moon Queen betrothed to the Sun King... they but heads at first then slowly but surely fall in love.

Sleeping Beauty/ Fairy Tale AU:

This one was really made for young Sir Arthur & Celestine... I couldn't help it guys it was such a classic movie. Malfience icon (she's definitely be Morgan in this Au).

Especially when I was looking for dancing references I kept looking at the sleeping beauty reference dance sequence the most. (for a project to be revealed later still a secret) So I had to give a shoutout to that of course, love how it turned out!

Super Paper Mario Au:

I think this one is my favorite one I always got emotional for Count Bleck & Tippi's backstory. Their love story is quite similar to theirs....they just fit the characters so well.

In all honesty, if Sir Arthur didn't have Meta to ground him... then he definitely would have become like "Count Bleck." Oh but just like Tippi Celestine would still love and forgive Arthur anyways.

~

And here is an Au relevant to the plot of KBASW... I did wanna draw out more scenarios relevant to the plot of KBASW but then they kept leaking out to spoiler-ish territory.

Next Scenario Happy Ending Route. (Basically, Celestine & Arthur are running the GSA and this is a daily occurrence~)

They still have to wait for...(Kirby is lost for a while and is found by Meta and of course baby imprints on him and he's still Meta's) They become this obnoxiously flirty-loving couple... MK's seen this since he was a kid so he's desensitized. They do get work done I promise ~ (LMAO)

@kirbyoctournament

Keep reading for spoiler content/ Special thanks

~

This is where Celestine finds a cure for her " broken warp star" situation. They basically gave Gala the same isolation treatment (because he was supposed to be the galaxy's savior~). But Celty (secretly visits him as often as she can to ensure he isn't lonely.

After this time Celestine finds Meta in the Fountain of Dreams (before anyone could find him). The Ancients were so preoccupied with Gala that they weren't even montioring the fountain.

Basically, no one knew that Meta Knight was born but Celestine & Arthur. He's raised in secret at the temple. (They make a cute little family together ~) And Celestine would set up secret little play dates for the both of them.

A few years passed and then BOOM!

They manage to catch Icarus in his crimes for "forcibly creating another astral from Void." (Kirby was always going to be made but he came out too early due to Icarus' involvement.)

Morpho still takes his life but they manage to trace it back to Uther... The people are now questioning the Acients in their decisions and soon fall out of power due to the controversy. To save face they crystalize Sir Uther... (HA) but that doesn't help them at all~

It was during this time that Celestine properly revealed herself as Merlyn... WHAT!? Another blunder blew up in their faces...and the people immediately began to rally behind her. The popularity of her good deeds as Merlyn is what gets her into the seat of power.

Leaving Celestine in charge of the GSA (finally left in the right hands!) And of course, she takes Arthur with her as her right-hand man and well I think the GSA would become more of a light-hearted place after that.

(Morgan leaves, she doesn't fit into this hippie-dippy-happy place but she's not evil per se... she kinda just travels around as she pleases and she does find her happiness being a wanderer.)

Nightmare is still a problem but Nightmare Enterprise is never created, so it's not as widespread. So it's managed and the galaxy is thriving under Celestine's control. And of course, Arthur & Celestine confess their feeling for each other yada yada yada....

And of course, Kirby defeats Nightmare and that's it~

Despite this happy ending Meta Knight never meets Jecra & Garlude as a result of this. Along with Kirby never going to Dreamland or meeting everyone; Fumu, the cappies, no nothing. And the need for Star Allies no longer exists.

~

More content on these two to come and guys let me know which Au scenario you like more (reblog, leave a comment... maybe I'll expand on it more fun content to come)

I also wanted to thank everyone for getting me through round two I hope you all continue the support for next week's voting poll ROUND THREE!

Thank you for riding this wave with me!

Hope you all have a wonderful day!

@lulu-chaos-incarnation I just also wanted to thank you for being such a loyal fan. I really appreciate you I know I went a little crazy on the AUs but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! :D

[blackdollette]

Thinking about....fuck idk, maybe Clive? Mike? Jack? No idea - Hanging out with his friends with his arm around you, bragging about how good he fucks you and how well he doms you while you just sit there and smirk, knowing that he's full of shit and that his contact name in your phone is fuckin "Barstool" for a reason.

-high anon

this request screams "mike" so loud.

"never bought into your bullshit." | mike

high by the beach. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @icarus-star @imoonkiss @lankysimp @xxbl00d-cl0txx @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @wild-rose-35

female!reader x mike

word count: 929

contents: cunnilingus, mike being subby, masturbation

mike’s hand went clammy as his arm tightened itself around your waist, palpable anxiety coursing through his veins. conversations with leff had always led to an argument and ended with mike crying to you, desperate for an ounce of support. this little chat had gone no different.

“it’s about time you started acting like a man, mike.” leff began, disapproval scribbled all over his face. “how the hell am i supposed to take you seriously when you can’t even keep that bitch of yours satisfied.”

your eyes widened and mike quickly shot back. “a-are you kidding? you can call me shitty at the business all you want but she’s said it herself. no one has treated her better than i have.” leff rolled his eyes. “i know a virgin when i see one, mike.”

mike sneered, hands trailing down to your hips. “you know i’m not a goddamn virgin.” he was getting riled up quickly. you could feel his body starting to tremble against yours. leff extended a hand and patted you on the shoulder. “take it from me, sweetheart. you’d better leave this pussy while you still can before he gets to attached.” he laughed in mike’s face and you felt a grin tugging at your lips.

mike rolled his eyes, gradually becoming more confident. “i fuck her better than anyone could and she knows it. you may view me as some pussy but at least i’ve got the balls to get a girl and keep her around.” he smirks a little. “i even got her crying on my dick. just last night.”

leff was right about one thing. mike had gotten attached to you. like a wounded puppy with a cowboy hat. mike continued to bicker with leff, defending his case about how well he treated you in the bedroom as images flickered into your mind. as mike insisted on wearing the pants in your relationship, you remembered him from just the night before, on his knees and begging you to let him eat you out…

“c’mon, baby… please. i-ill be so good for you, i swear it…“ he sat on his knees in front of the bed were your legs were spread, your wet cunt dripping through the thin fabric of your panties. he was practically clawing at the sheets, bucking his hips against the mattress as he pleaded to get a taste of the honey between your legs.

you pondered for a moment, wanting to see him beg a little more. “are you sure..? i wouldn’t wanna pressure you or anything.” his eyes lit up even more. “it would be my pleasure, doll.” you smiled, opening your legs a little more and inviting him in. “...then show me what you can do…” 

like a starved man, he tore off your panties and pulled your hips to the edge of the bed, connecting his lips with your pulsating pussy and moaning as the sweet taste hit his tongue. you fisted a handful of his hair, tossing your head back as you began to fuck his mouth. mike whimpered as you used his tongue for pleasure, the tip of his nose tapping against your clit. “j-just like that, doll. fuck my face…”

you rolled your hips as he sunk into you, dipping his tongue into your hole. you hissed, insides contracting as he inserted a desperate finger into your gummy walls. he reached his other hand down to his aching cock, wrapping it around and pumping it teasingly, smearing his precum over his girth and using it as a lubricant.

he curled two fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out of your greedy cunt. you bit your lip to supress a moan, gripping the bedsheets until your knuckles went white. every nerve in your body was responding to his touch. you uncontrollably squeezed your thighs together, crushing his head in the process.

he let out a deep groan, his entire body getting hot from the feeling of drowning in your soft skin. he greedily jerked himself off, though he was more focused on pleasuring you than himself. you attempted to squirm away as he swirled complicated patterns onto your clit. he held you firmly in place. “i’m not done yet, baby. you just taste so good…”

he was licking and lapping you up like you were a tasty dessert, his cock beginning to throb. whimpers escaped from his mouth as he touched himself. he fed his moans into your hole, sending waves of heat and pleasure throughout your body.

you held the back of his head, rubbing it against your stimulated core. he was a panting mess and you could’ve sworn that tears were running down his face. your body shook and trembled as he reached a harmonic rhythm between his fingers and his tongue. you felt yourself getting closer to a climax. your hole clenching and pulsating around him until…

mike shook you in an attempt to grab your attention, raising an eyebrow. “you okay? i thought we lost you there for a sec.”  you had forgotten where you were for a second. and leff was still standing there with that smug grin on his face. “so is mikey here telling the truth? or is he just full of bullshit?”

you glanced up at mike, seeing that submissive expression filcker across his face for just a second. you cleared your throat. “he’s right. i cant imagine being with another guy.” mike nodded, spinning you both around and starting to walk away, happy that you didn’t rat him out for the pushover he really was.

author's note: i need to learn how to write for mike. thank you so much for the request!!

[angelsanarchy]

Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 21

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf @kappasbbgirl @luzclarita57 @tempt-ress @starry-eyed-wild-child

Mike sat at the dinner table eating the food he picked up after his last drop off. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard Leff come in the front door. His boots hit the steps and Mike considered getting up but knew it would just make things worse.

"What time did you get back?" Leff asked tossing his bag on the table, almost knocking his beer onto the floor.

"8:30." Mike kept his head down as Leff plopped down in the chair at the end of the table, twisting the beer top and tossing it on the floor like an animal.

"How long you gonna walk around here looking like some lovesick pussy? It's fucking annoying." Leff snorted chugging his beer. Mike ignores him not wanting to engage but it only served to piss Leff off more.

"Jesus fuck, there's plenty of tail in New York Mikey. Just find someone else. Hell I can set you up with one of the chicks from the club that won't try to rob your stupid ass." Leff laughed trying to pull some sort of reaction out of Mike but he just shook his head.

"Have you always been this way?" Mike asked causing Leff to pause as he brought his beer to his lips.

"I mean the way mom talked about you, the way she talked about how you took care of her when you guys were little...I remember how you were when I was a kid too. You never talked about women the way you do now." Mike looked over at him and Leff looked almost embarassed but snarled his lip.

"The world isn't all sunshine and rainbows Mike. You think you can have some stupid fucking love story in this life? Pushing product, trying not to get shot, making sure the people you love don't get taken advantage of or junkied out." Leff pressed.

"So was it Mom that made you like this?" He reached out and slapped Mike in the side of the head, surprising him.

"Wake the fuck up Mikey! You want to be soft and chase after Y/n, you're either going to get yourself killed or you're gonna harden yourself to survive the bullshit." Leff pointed at him.

"I am who I am because I've had to survive." He lowered his tone and Mike went back to closing himself off. They ate in silence for a few moments.

"Look, Mikey...it's my job to protect you. I promised your mom that I would watch out for you so you didn't end up like her okay?" Leff explained. This was the most they talked about his mom since he got here. He knew it was a hard topic for Leff but it wasn't easy for Mike to acknowledge either.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me, giving me a place to stay, a job...but you know I gotta be my own man. You would lose your mind if the roles were revered Leff. Some grown man trying to dictate your life-"

"You think that's what I'm doing? Dictating your life? I'm trying to keep your ass alive." Leff raised his voice.

"Having my back is one thing but telling me who I can't date? Treating me like some stupid kid in front of the people I make drop offs to..." Mike explained and Leff shook his head.

"So what? You fuck around with Y/n and now suddenly you're a man? You can take care of yourself and you don't need anybody else?" Leff chuckled darkly like it was such a pathetic concept.

"I want to be with her. I'm going to be with her and show her that I'm someone she can count on." Mike explained.

"Yea good luck with that." Leff slide his chair out from the table and let the chair hit the oven, snatching his beer and his bag of food to take up to his room. Mike let out a sigh and knew it was useless. They were too different at this point in their lives and the response to losing his mom had hit them both differently.

Mike wanted to find someone to live each day with and be happy. Leff was content on being miserable.

[pianokantzart]

I know it’s a rather short scene but can you give your thoughts on the scene after Mario leaves the dinner table? I love that scene since it perfectly shows us the headspace’s of both brothers

Happily!

The scene starts with Mario playing Kid Icarus. It's both a fun self-reference for Nintendo, and fitting given the canonical game over screen:

“I’m Finished!” The TV goes black, and Mario is left looking sadly at his reflection, his prematurely failing plumbing business feeling like the end of the world. Realizing this game isn’t exactly helping him distract himself from his troubles, Mario instead turns the tv to the news.

Then, Luigi comes in. He doesn’t knock before entering. He doesn’t need to. Mario left the door ajar, as if he knew his little brother wasn’t going to be far behind. Luigi gives a timid little “hey” while holding up a plate of dinner he brought for him. The tone of his voice and the look on his face seems to say “I know you’re hurting, but I’m here for you.”

“Aw, you’re not bringing me down.” Luigi immediately knows what's on Mario’s mind, and he’s dead set on reassuring him. He tries to hand him the food, but Mario shakes his head, too upset to eat despite his brother’s efforts.

“You know what? what do they know, huh?” Look at Luigi’s face. There is a reason why he didn’t argue at all during the dinner scene, he didn’t feel like he had anything to get defensive about. He believes in his big bro with all his heart, despite the naysayers and the bad luck. He playfully nudges Mario’s arm, trying to cheer him up, hoping to see him regain his old confidence.

Mario is unaffected. “It’s not just them. Our whole lives people are telling us ‘we can’t do this,’ ‘we can’t do that’…” We. It’s not “people are telling me ‘I can’t do this’, ‘I can’t do that’,” it’s we. He and his brother are a package deal, have been since the beginning. Mario’s goals are Luigi’s goals, Mario’s dreams are Luigi’s dreams. When someone disregards one of them, they disregard them both.

“... Just sick and tired of feeling so small.” But unlike Luigi, Mario doesn’t have the privilege of following in someone else’s footsteps. He is the leader, the dreamer, the spearhead... it's his natural role given his far more confident and assertive personality. Luigi is just happy to be wherever Mario is, but Mario wants to aim for something greater, because achieving it means lifting both him and his brother up.

Then the news station cuts to live footage of a serious city-wide plumbing emergency. Mario sees this, and immediately lights up. His mood does a complete 180. “This is our chance! Destiny is calling!”

Luigi is oblivious. “Destiny Delmaschio from highschool?” Already his brain is a million miles away. He isn’t worried about a thing, perfectly content just sitting next to his brother in his room, eating pasta. But Mario has other plans... big plans.

Mario grabs his brother by the wrist and drags him outside. He is back to his old self: an opportunist, an adventurer, full of gumption and ambition. Luigi, confused but ever-faithful, follows close behind.

This scene– a rare moment of quiet in a very fast-paced and loud film– shows a new angle to the Mario Brothers' relationship. It confirms just how connected Mario feels to Luigi, how he feels like it's just the two of them against the entire world, while Luigi is shown to be not just an assistant in Mario's business endeavors, but also a great source of emotional support and comfort. Luigi just wants to follow his big brother, and will do everything he can to see to it that Mario's happy. Mario is an idealist who– after being loved and supported by his little brother for so long– wants nothing more than to do right by him in return.

[heliads]

you always knew how to push my buttons

Alex Albon, long-suffering woman in motorsport, would really like to focus on her first year of racing for Williams. George Russell makes that difficult.

(or, girl alex galex)

masterlist

In Christian Horner’s defense, it wasn’t the worst idea. You have a second driver that’s doing badly, you need to pull them out but don’t want to look cruel, so you put in someone who’ll draw attention to who you’re currently sitting in your car instead of who you used to seat. 

A girl is the perfect bargaining chip. The media gets so distracted by historic moments and trailblazers that they forget about the French kid Red Bull abandoned only a little bit ago, and when you tire of the girl, too, you can ship her back to reserve driverhood and still get the necessary pats on the back because, you know, you tried. 

Alex Albon doesn’t want to be another token feminism card to play, though, and she certainly doesn’t want to stay in the shadows any more. This is something that Red Bull has learned upon hiring her. It might, perhaps, be something that they regret, because they’ve finally realized that Alex has absolutely no interest in being a little Media Darling Barbie for them, but they were still content to let her rot away in the aftermath of their fast-paced work environment.

Alex has her second chance now, though. She’s done her time in the prison of reserve driver status, and now she’s on the grid again. Williams is, admittedly, somewhat of a far fall from Red Bull, but every Icarus has their plummet to the sea, and she plans on reaching the glimmer of the sun again soon. She’ll be on a podium again. Then she can laugh at the rest of them as much as she pleases.

Until then, Alex is supposed to keep her head down but her chin up, ignoring all of the hundreds of people asking how terrible it must feel to only have less than two full years of being a second driver under her belt before getting booted. Her PR manager has trained her on how to handle the questions without getting abrasive. Williams is glad to have Alex on, of course, but they would really like it if she could play along with the interviewer circus for just a few months more before starting to crack.

Alex is not good at keeping her temper at bay. She is proving it now. It’s only a Thursday, barely a few races into the calendar, and already all of her media training is blinking out of her head like fading batteries.

One interviewer, seemingly sensing this, addresses his next question to her. “Alex, you’ve had a year to recharge as a reserve driver, and now you’re back with Williams. Are you disappointed to get your second chance only to be stuck with a backmarker team?”

Alex has often thought that it’s not drivers who should get media training but the actual media themselves, because how the fuck are you actually allowed to ask that in a professional setting. She grits her teeth into her best impression of a smile and tries to answer normally instead of, like, lunging out of the chair to gouge the guy’s eyes out or something. “I am happy to be back on the grid. Williams has given me a great opportunity, and it’s one that I’ll take as far as I can.”

The reporter frowns, scratching at his head a little before pressing further. “So you’re glad to be with this team, then? You wouldn’t have wanted any of the other teams to reach out with a contract?”

Alex stares at the guy. “I’m at Williams, and I like being here. Quit asking me about other people. Ask better questions.”

The interviewer purses his lips, giving Alex such vivid flashbacks of bitter and jaded old school teachers that she almost wants to ask the guy about his past career choices before turning to F1. However, she has a feeling that the only one who gets to be dissected about their resume is her. Delightful.

“That’s not really that nice, is it?” The man asks, voice so full of condescension that Alex has to squeeze her fingernails into her palms to avoid groaning out loud. “You know, when you first came to the grid, I thought you would be more friendly.”

“Yeah, well.” Alex says shortly. “There were nice girl drivers, but they couldn’t get through all of this. You’re stuck with me now.” Then smiles, like that’ll make all of this better. Oh, her PR manager is so killing her once this ends. Can the team doctors mend broken bones before Friday free practice begins?

The interviewer looks sour, but to her left, Alex actually hears someone laughing. She cocks her head to the side, curious to see who’s looking past her temper to discover a joke, and finds–

George. Of course it would be George.

George Russell is quite possibly one of the only people on the grid at the moment, or perhaps the entire world for that matter, who not only tolerates Alex’s snark and nonsense but likes it, too. Has since they were, like, tweens and teens. They’d observed each other in 2008, caught up between different karting circuits, but waited until 2011 to properly become friends. No self respecting twelve year old would ever interact with a boy who was merely ten, not while she was still winning, but fifteen and thirteen was better. They’re best now. 

They were both small back then; George more so, almost a whole head shorter than Alex at that point, but he’s caught up remarkably fast, and not just in height. They were both stuck in the same fantasy, kids growing up at each other’s houses and dreaming of climbing the F3-F2-F1 ladder, and now they’re both here, swapping off places on the Williams team roster like a baton in a relay race. Time changes us all. They would never be the exception, even if it was kind of sort of wonderful back then, and Alex kind of sort of misses the way it was.

Not in the least bit because it meant less media duties for her back then. The interview ends in a pitiably long time, just long enough for Alex to wonder if reserve driverhood wasn’t better than this solely because she at least didn’t have to attend driver’s media days. She’s released soon enough, though, permitted to spill out into the dizzying sun of the paddock once more.

She pauses by the door to let George catch up to her; Alex likes walking quickly away, but she does owe George for breaking the ice back there. Once another driver had laughed, the interviewer could join in, nervously coughing and chuckling before quickly moving on to a better, more suitable candidate for terrible questions.

“D’you think I should put in a petition to the stewards asking for media days to be longer?” George asks conversationally, “I was kind of getting the feeling that you wanted to spend more time getting interrogated.”

Alex twists her face into a bitter glare. “I’d rather you just run me over with your car on Sunday and get the whole trouble over with. It’s like they want me to just start weeping over the wreck of my career already and give them a good show.”

George snorts. “They want drama, just ignore them. They’ll find a new victim soon enough.”

Easy for him to say, Mr. Saturday with the crisp Tommy Hilfiger lining on his new Mercedes team kit, he’s not the one getting picked to pieces. George had practically salivated over the shirt when he got his first shipment of merch, making Alex unbox it with him like they were vloggers or something. 

He’d lingered over each cap and polo so long that Alex had threatened to slice the lot of it to ribbons with her box cutter unless he picked up the pace. Even still, George’s face had idled over the black and white fabrics long after everything was unpackaged, like he still couldn’t believe it was all real. 

Alex stages a desolate sigh. “Yeah, yeah. They’ll all forget about me soon enough. It’ll be good.”

“Not all of them,” George corrects. “There’s still me, remember?”

His blue eyes are wide and accusatory. Alex finds it within herself to chuckle. “How could I not? We’ll skip media day and go hang out. Just us two.”

“Just us,” George repeats almost reverently, a prayer, a promise. 

And it– it’s a joke, yeah, there’s no way in hell that either of them would be so dismissive of their seat that they’d willfully invoke the wrath of PR managers and team principles by skiving off entire days of the race week circus, but it’s still fun to imagine. George would be the one to do it with, anyway. George gets Alex. Always has.

Especially in connection with Alex’s hatred of the media. Alex has other hobbies than bashing interviewers, obviously, she does have a life that revolves around more than just despising bad questions and uncomfortable skits, but media duties are just such a prevalent part of being a driver that she can’t hide from them that often. That means someone has to hear her complaints, and more often than not, that person is George.

He’s quite used to it, though, having more than enough years to accept and subsequently tune out Alex’s rambling monologues on how useless it is to ask the same questions and hear the same forced answers every week without fail. More often than not, George is roped into various plots to get Alex out of the piercing eye of the camera, or at least make times like those more tolerable, like he did today.

A memory rises unbidden to the forefront of Alex’s mind. It was a few years back, when Alex was still with Red Bull and George was testing the limits of Williams. They’d been conducting post-race interviews, or Alex had, at least; George had appeared out of the mess of drivers and PR accomplices to kind of hover in the background of Alex’s frame, looming in a typical George-like manner.

Alex had really wanted to forget the whole race the second it ended– as if she couldn’t see Christian Horner shaking his head over the displays, as if all today accomplished wasn’t just a chance to give the public another set of Alex’s average speeds to be endlessly compared with Max’s– but the interviewer was dragging his heels, forcing one word answers into paragraphs of speculation.

At one point, the guy had pointed out a bloody scrape showing through Alex’s undershirt. She’d accidentally caught the skin against the edge of her car when she was getting out, but doubtless it would be used as just another chance to prove Alex wasn’t fit for the car or the team didn’t care about her or whatever. Alex wanted to leave, but the interviewer wouldn’t leave well enough alone, which meant it was time for more drastic measures.

She had rolled her eyes, then made some asinine one-liner about how that wasn’t the first time blood had shown up against a race suit. Jokes about periods always get the same awkward shuffling feet and vague mumbling about getting someone else to talk to. It’s a fairly dependable constant.

Everyone was uncomfortable, which was exactly what Alex wanted, because when they’re uncomfortable they don’t want her there anymore and she can leave. The interviewer already looked like he wished he could stab himself through the eyes with the metal straw Lewis was sipping through earlier that day, but George— George was still grinning. Fondly. And not at all put off. 

Freak. Alex was kind of fascinated by him. Still is. If anything, the fascination has multiplied.

And that makes it sound like— but it’s not—

Alex has known George almost her entire life. As long as it mattered, really. Recently, though, she’s started thinking. About George. In ways that she had not before. 

Because, at the end of the day, there is something to George Russell that Alex might have missed the first time around. Something she only noticed when he was getting out of the car, peeling off the outer layer of his race suit so she had no choice but to stare at the fireproofs skin tight against him. Or when he posted a hundred different shirtless selfies, practically daring her to look. It is not hard to look. Not at George. 

George, who’s had her back since they were kids. George, who randomly interrupts her interviews to call her a warrior. Who goes on podcasts to go on long tangents about how Alex deserves better than she gets and calls her proper quick despite the fact that she’s past the days of winning everything. He’s in a Mercedes now, she’s in the dusty contrail of his speeding jet, and George still has the time of day to give to her. Maybe he’s the type of guy to deserve her looking. 

It makes Alex seek him out more, even more than she did before. It makes her do risky, stupid things, like pull George into her driver’s room after another Thursday debrief so they can hypothetically make fun of all that was said that day but mainly just so she can sit right by him and look.

George is apparently immune to the looking. Alex is observing him like she’s one of the thousands of spectators out there, goggle-eyed and hopeless, but George seems not to notice it at all. Perhaps she should invest in a homemade sign or something. Maybe even a cardboard cutout of his face.

“There were quite a number of rumors about you today,” George is in the midst of noting, “mainly that you’re going to be switching teams already. If you are, can you tell me now so I can place bets?”

Alex laughs. “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet, at least. Tell your fellow gamblers to cool it.”

George makes an elaborate display of shrugging. “You can’t be too sure of yourself. Ferrari’s always on the lookout for a new driver lineup, apparently, and McLaren’ll never pass up the chance for fresh blood.”

“I don’t want to give Zak Brown any of my blood,” Alex asserts, “But Ferrari would certainly be something. I’m sure the bad strategy is made up by other things like salaries and teammates. Charles is a pretty boy, isn’t he? That would help with the rest of it.”

George makes a sort of squawking noise in the back of his throat. Alex can’t honestly tell if he’s embarrassed for Charles’ sake or what, but there’s a hot pink shock of blush sitting high on his cheekbones now, starting to mottle his neck. “Did you just call Charles pretty?”

Alex’s nod is exaggeratedly slow, just to be obstinate. “Yes, I did. Boys can be pretty. Don’t forget what century you’re in, Georgie. We’re forward thinkers now.” She narrows her eyes a little, sensing weakness, then— “You’re pretty too, y’know that? Eyelashes and all.”

This, then, is the source of tension. George genuinely squirms in his seat, hands clenched on the armrests of his chair like he fully expects to melt into the floor if he isn’t white-knuckling the thing. “That’s— that’s not— I wasn’t trying to angle for a compliment.”

“You didn’t have to,” Alex says, divinely pleased with herself, “I gave it out anyway. Consider me in a charitable mood.”

George rolls his eyes. “Since when have you been charitable?”

Alex scoffs. “Since forever. I volunteer, y’know. I have been spotted giving caps to children.”

George settles back into his seat, a comfortable smile on his face. “I know. I take it back. You’ve always been good.” 

It is, all things considered, a very simple thing to say. You have always been good. Good is subjective. The idea of Alex that exists in George’s head, the one that is good, she’s subjective too, not quite real but close enough. Alex wonders what that girl must be like, good enough to ease the annoyance of a friend’s teasing, enough to– to make up for the fact that it’s her, that it’s Alex, or maybe that was why George was here in the first place, because the Alex that won him over was the real Alex all along.

And it’s stupid because– Have you ever been alone in a room with a boy? The whole space is empty but he sits right next to you. And he’s looking at you like the sun, like the stars, like even as you blind him, he’s never seen anything better and he’ll keep on staring, just to see what else you can do. You’ve gone your whole life swearing up and down that just because you’re the only female driver on the grid, that doesn’t mean you’ll fall in love with the first male driver to stop and look at you twice, but.

George is looking at Alex, eyes half-lidded, mouth open slightly, mid-gasp without a sound, and Alex isn’t falling in love because she wouldn’t do that. If she did, though, she thinks it would not be the worst thing ever. She can hear her heartbeat echoing in her ears, loud as the drums race organizers bring out in the bands for their anthem before lights out and away we go. Just as bad, too, because the sound is tripping over itself, speeding up and slowing down and absolutely erratic.

Alex can feel her entire chest constricting, ribs bruising as they bend against each other. George tilts his head to the side, concern flickering over his expression. “Are you alright?”

No. “Yes,” Alex says. No. 

George seems to believe this about as much as Alex does, and he reaches up to touch Alex’s forehead, two fingers exactly perpendicular against the warm flush of Alex’s skin. It’s so grandmotherly it’s almost ridiculous, George pursing his lips like he’s going to prescribe hot soup or a good night’s sleep or something else motherly and terrible, but instead he just shrugs and says that he doesn’t feel a fever. Alex doesn’t know if she’s more hurt by the dismissal or when George takes his hand away.

“You’re probably fine,” George tells her. 

He’s leaned away again, but he keeps a firm hold on the same two fingers that had touched her skin like he’s nursing a cut, like having any contact with Alex should be imprinted into him forever. It makes Alex want to touch him again, forever, and never let go. They could be joined together at the hip physically instead of just metaphorically. It probably wouldn’t mess with racing that badly.

She lets out a weak chuckle. “Is that your expert opinion, Dr. Russell?”

George flushes, embarrassed, and looks away. “You probably won’t lose any limbs or anything.”

Alex cackles. “I should hope not. You’d have a terrible medical practice if I came in for a fever and you did, like, an amputation or something.”

George snorts. “It’s only the natural response to a fever, of course.”

He eyes Alex again as he says it, eyes rolling down her body as he mumbles the words natural response. Alex leans forward slightly, and George mirrors her by impulse. “Is that all that doctors do for their patients?” She asks under her breath. Not her best attempt at dirty talk, but she doesn’t really have the power to think of anything else more impressive.

It works, anyway. George shakes once, all over, a sort of head to toe shiver that forces the breath from his lungs. Alex can actually hear it as George’s words hitch in his throat, but there’s a sharp rap on the door before either of them can find out how he’ll respond.

George flies away from Alex, practically leaping off of the sofa as he attempts to quickly create distance between them. It’s a good thing that their intruder just stays on the other side of the door, announcing themselves to be Alex’s PR manager needing her to come out for another round of interviews before leaving, because George is panting like he’s run a footrace, all in the effort to make it seem like nothing had happened here at all.

Hadn’t it? Even as George announces that he’d better go since Alex is busy now, and even as Alex unhappily stands up at last to go face the dozen TikToks they’ll force her to make before she can escape again, she glances back one last time at the room before she leaves. It’s as if she’s expecting to see something there, some sign of the heavy tension that had been there just moments ago.

Nothing. Just creased pillows and an empty sofa. Alex indulges herself in a brief fantasy that there had been a better reason for that other than a brief conversation, but it can’t last long. She’s got media duties to scoff at, and she’s learned long ago that it’s better not to think excessively about George while there’s a camera in her face. For some reason, it causes her to lose all sense of what she’s saying.

The idea that something else could have happened, though, lingers in Alex’s head far longer than it should. It sticks around through free practice, appears in her thoughts after qualifying, even pops out of her head briefly during the race itself. 

It’s turn four, Alex brakes as late as she dares, and as she pushes her foot decisively back onto the accelerator, her brain has the audacity to ask if maybe George would have touched her if they had stayed in that room even a little longer. 

He had wanted to, maybe. His fingers had been clenching and unclenching the whole time, flickering in invisible piano-chord patterns ever closer to that gap where his leg ended and hers began. Senna, turning over in his grave, if you no longer go for a gap that exists, you’re no longer a racing driver. 

This is what dumbstruck boys get you, then. At this point, Alex is feeling practically delusional. Half a second later, she remembers that she’s still, like, in a car, which is a more pressing matter to attend to than musings on what could’ve happened if more stars aligned, but. She does ask over the radio where George ended up when the race has finished, and she uses that information to decide to ask George to show up to her hotel room after night begins to fall.

This is no uncommon occurrence. The two of them often meet up at someone’s house or another’s room. It’s a more efficient vehicle for random conversations than extended phone calls. George appears at her threshold within ten minutes, panting slightly, and it could just be Alex’s overactive imagination, but she swears he looks nervous, like he wants something. They both do. Alex just has to be sure that it’s the same thing and not something grievously, totally different.

“So,” she says boldly. “Uh. Good race.”

George looks at her askance. “Yeah, thanks.”

God, it’s like they’re work acquaintances. Alex wants to die. How is it that she wants more, but the second she tries to say that, she becomes even less?

Second time’s the charm. She clears her throat. “I wanted to ask you something. About when we were in my driver’s room. Someone came in before– but I wanted to know if you, if we, were going to do anything if that hadn’t happened, and. Yeah.”

She is terrible. George still looks taken aback. “Oh, on Thursday? I don’t know, someone came in,” he repeats.

Alex is going to scream. “They did. If they didn’t, though.”

George swallows. “Right. I– I think I would have wanted something.”

As if that isn’t the vaguest thing that George could have possibly said. “Something?” Alex asks. "Like what, a new front wing?”

George sighs, exasperated. “No, Alex, like you.”

It hangs in the air for a while. Alex thinks that if she tried hard enough, she could actually see the words printed into the very oxygen she’s breathing. Like you. Alex, like you.

In retrospect, silence is not a good way to address such a thing. George, who has always been tense, who will always overthink things to the point of mental anguish, takes this as a sign that he misread the situation, and damage control is launched accordingly.

“Forget it,” George says abruptly, “This isn’t– Just forget it, alright? I’ll see you next week.”

He’s out of the door before Alex knows what’s going on. Alex stares open mouthed at the exit, a thousand thoughts churning through his head. As if Alex could just forget it. The idea is such an impossibility that it’s almost laughable.

Because– because Alex remembers what it was like, being young, being kids. Together. Alone in her house or his. A dozen inside jokes no one else gets. A hundred side eyes and bitten tongues and uncontrollable laughs. Alex ran away from it all when she was kicked off of Red Bull, when she was certain that it would never again be what it was– George her muse, Alex his idol, both of them the best and neither of them out of it. Running, though, running robbed her of it all. Alex wants it all more than she ever has before.

And maybe they’ll never have a podium together, and maybe Alex will never be at the top step of their pyramid anymore, but at this moment they’re two ships passing in the night, George relinquishing the Williams seat so he can hand it off to Alex, and maybe– maybe that’s okay. Maybe that’s enough. If she tries hard enough, she can make it enough. Maybe he’d want it to be enough too.

Maybe he already did. Alex’s stomach twists as she thinks back to everything George has said to her over the recent months. He’s always been so genuine, says each word like he means it more than anything, but he’s put something extra into them as of late, something special. His hands move more when he speaks, maybe that’s it. Alex has taken the time to observe every digit, every ungnawed cuticle, every knuckle and bit of bone straining against the skin. 

She’s watching for something, waiting for it to happen, and then in a clap of mental thunder Alex realizes that what she is waiting for has already occurred. George has already given her the go-ahead. Has many times over. Alex wasn’t aware of it because she was too scared to look, too afraid to ruin something good, but. Alex is looking now, and a far worse thing would be to have this before her and let it go.

Alex thinks about George wringing his hands and apologizing too much, lunging into her room before she barely even called him, second guessing and blindly firing and doing everything in his power to keep her. It’s stupidly charming, and overwhelmingly off putting at the same time, but it’s George, and it’s what Alex wants. Alex wants George. Alex wants George more than she has wanted anything. At times like this, she thinks she might give up anything else, that top step of the podium, the sweet taste of champagne scorching down her throat, if it meant she might be able to taste him, too.

Alex throws herself out of the room. George hasn’t made it that far, even despite his long, reedy legs, dragging each footstep like his shoes have been weighed down with iron. By contrast, Alex is jetting down the hall, sprinting out of her door so fast she’s not entirely sure that both her feet are ever touching the ground. She catches up to George in about half a heartbeat, thinks, fastest, thinks, pole position, and kisses him. 

George goes as still as a statue. Alex is still moving when she hits him and does this abrupt careening around thing where her acceleration is still carrying her past him down the hall even as their lips connect. George has to catch her around the middle so she doesn’t fall over, his hands clumsily connecting at her waist, but at least that means he’s still thinking, because Alex’s brain shut off the second his mouth was on hers.

George has always been the thinker, though. George, sitting up late in the corner of the Albon family basement, blue eyes wide as he tucks his feet under himself and continues to extoll the virtues of minimized tire degradation, George, finally eye level with her and not looking up, matter-of-factly informing Alex that of course they’ll both be in Formula One together, are you kidding. 

George today, brain whirring into overdrive, whose first thought isn’t to ask Alex what in the hell she’s doing but to urge the two of them to get back into her room before someone sees. Alex has no problem in accepting. Where he goes, she does too. They kind of work out like that.

And, when Alex wakes up lazy and late the next morning, when the first thing she spots is George’s shirt on the ground right next to hers, she remembers how well they work out, too. She stretches and yawns widely, flopping onto her back to discover that a) George is already awake, probably for hours (weirdo), and b) is now intimately connected with the most trustworthy news sources his phone can offer instead of with her (double weirdo). 

Alex arches a brow over at him from where she still lies, tangled in linen sheets of a thread count that are probably higher than both their salaries. “Nothing like a fresh economic roundup to get you pumped to start your morning, huh, Georgie?”

George tends to pair a dramatic sigh with his eye rolls, Alex observes fondly. “There’s nothing wrong with staying informed, Alex. I’m not looking at the business section, though. I’m reading about us. Tabloids.”

For a moment, Alex’s heart freezes in her chest. She hadn’t counted on getting found out this quickly, and god, how could they, unless Red Bull really did want to capitalize on her downfall and, like, paid for a secret investigator to follow her around and take photos when she finally caved and pursued her best friend. Which, weird, but kind of foreseeable, too. They’d probably done it to Pierre at least once. 

She scavenges about for her phone on the nightstand beside her and turns it on, typing geogre rhssel abd alrx albon tkgrther??? into the Safari search bar. She’s damn near unintelligible in her haste, but the search engine knows what she’s getting at and delivers anyway. Praise be. 

Alex is expecting grainy surveillance photos of them making out in the hallway or something like that, but instead, she’s just greeted with more talk pieces on their long history together since they were karting kids, a few rumors here and there about what might be but nothing more than mere speculation.

“It’s okay,” she reassures George at last, “They don’t know.”

George frowns, still not entirely convinced. “It’s weird timing on a lot of these. At least three or four fan gossip pages put out stuff all last night. Why’d they all do it at the same time if they didn’t see?”

Alex shrugs. “Maybe they got bored, I don’t know. Odds are they saw us talking at the paddock earlier and decided to play off of interest so they posted.”

George counters, “Or, they might have posted, because we were, you know, we were kind of, uh, obvious, and–”

“We’re fine,” Alex says, rolling her eyes, “They don’t have anything new, just repeating the same stuff about how we might be fucking. No proof. Everyone’s dragging them for getting into pointless rumors.”

“Good,” George says, nodding his head emphatically like he’s committing every word to memory. “I don’t want anyone finding out that I– that we–” He can’t finish the sentence, unable to say more than a few words towards the audacious subject without tripping over the syllables.

Alex can guess at his meaning anyway, though, and it makes her laugh.

“What, you don’t want our bosses bringing up your potential plans to deflower me or something at the next team meeting, do you?” Alex says, cackling. 

George’s cheeks turn an alarming shade of Ferrari red. “No. Not that.”

Still. Alex can’t tease him for blushing, because her cheeks have gone hot at the thought of it. If George were to– if they– It was a little late for that, of course, but if he really was the first–

“Your reputation remains intact,” Alex says, reassuring George of the truth but kind of herself, too. They’re both fine. No one knows. Wouldn’t it be something if they did, though. What they could do if they didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

Sometimes, Alex thinks that she does actually want to get caught. It would make sense. Every time she gets up the morning after, because it does happen again, despite both of them never formally saying it was a one time thing but kind of fearing it would be, anyway, every time she finds that they actually forgot to lock the door or they make out in one of the driver’s rooms such that you can still hear people going back and forth outside it, she remembers. George does too. 

In fact, she thinks he likes it even better than she does. George Russell, newest boy to Mercedes, soon to a race win (everyone can feel it coming, even if it hasn’t yet), our glorious prodigy coming into everything, and the one who managed to get Alex’s heart, too, while he was at it. Heart and hands, body and soul. All of it. George has all of it.

It gets easier as time goes on, if that were even possible at all. How much can you improve upon a good thing when it already seems perfect? It’s like fine tuning a rear wing or shaving off seconds from a suspension. Alex never thought she’d describe love with something as insipid as car parts, but she has a sneaking suspicion that George might find it rather romantic. It’s relevant, at least, so that should count for something.

George would appreciate the practicality, at least. George would appreciate her. Does. Always does. Alex wakes up one morning, hair a mess, not sure which of their rooms she’s in nor if she had the presence of mind to carry her high heels back from the bar she’d been wasted at last night, and George still looks at her like she’s a work of art. He’s endearingly fond of her, which makes it even easier to be fond of him. 

Alex thinks that she could be persuaded to stay here forever, lingering in this in between space of his-and-hers, the room belonging to both of them until she figures out which one of them has their name scrawled on the key card, but unfortunately there are still meetings to go to, interviews to conduct, engineers and team principles to appease. 

Alex drags herself out of bed, grabbing the closest clean clothes before scraping at her hair with a brush and considering the whole affair handled as best it can be. Behind her, George’s figure appears out of the early morning shower mist on the bathroom mirror, the edges of his reflected skin and hair feathered over with steam. 

“What do you think?” Alex asks, gesturing vaguely to herself with a languid hand, “Vogue cover ready?”

George snorts. “Oh, always. Do you have to head out already?”

“If I didn’t have to be somewhere soon, I would have slept in until noon,” Alex notes. 

George hums in agreement. “So professional of you.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “You know me. Word on the street is that I’m highly coveted by all the teams for my winning mindset. That’s why they want me at the factory all the time, so no one can entice me away with a different contract offer.”

George laughs even despite the bad joke, then reaches to pluck at the fabric of Alex’s attire with a knowing, almost possessive, air of triumph. 

“That’s my old shirt,” George observes, “You might want to change before you go out or someone’ll notice.”

Alex checks herself in the mirror, then shakes her head. George hasn’t gotten rid of all his old team kits, as it turns out; although this Williams tee isn’t Alex’s, it’ll do well enough. “It’s the same logo, how would they know it’s yours? It’s not got your name on it or anything.”

George’s eyes widen behind Alex in the mirror, veritable oceans swimming in the hazy glow of the hotel bathroom lighting. “What if they photograph you?”

Alex shrugs. “We’re the only ones who’ll know,” she tells George.

“Just us,” George agrees, but his hands coil in the extra fabric at the hem of her shirt, a silent reminder that it’s his, his shirt, his hotel room, and maybe– maybe Alex too, his.

The thought sends a hot shock coursing through Alex, pooling in her lower back near where George’s fingers still press against the fabric. She almost expects George to yank his hand back from an electric pulse when his knuckles accidentally brush her skin, but instead, he leans into the touch, and doesn’t let go until the stray buzzing from Alex’s phone grows insistent and it becomes clear that they can hide out here no longer.

Alex leaves first; George isn’t needed for half an hour after Alex, and they’re not stupid enough to leave a hotel together the morning after a drunken celebration. Not yet, at least. Idling listlessly in the elevator as it slowly ferries her down from the relative heaven of George’s hotel room, Alex thinks that it would be something to lose the last of her wisdom soon enough, to let the paparazzi catch her walking out of their shared hotel room, heels in her hands, dress from last night rucked up around her knees so she can walk.

Maybe she should tell George about it. She can imagine his reaction already, but the temptation of vocalizing it brings with it a sort of delicious rush that isn’t easily ignored. A ding echoes somewhere from the circuitry behind the wall of the elevator, and she steps out from the sliding doors, nodding at the receptionist before crossing the threshold.

The brightness of the morning blinds Alex when she walks outside. Somewhere out there, a car waits to carry her away, but for now, Alex lets the shocking sunlight bleach her clean of any expectations of driving or team principles or anything, anything at all. 

She makes it halfway across the asphalt before giving in to the Orpheus-like temptation to turn back. Shading her eyes with her hand, Alex’s eyes chase the floors level by level until she finds one room in particular, one man who’s already gone to the trouble of throwing up the drapes on his window so he can peer out at the scene below. At her. She is in his shirt; was just in his room, in his bed; in his gaze now too, held and treasured.

Alex looks up at him and grins. “Good morning, Georgie.”

He can’t hear her. It doesn’t matter. They’ll have plenty of time for talking– and not– in the days and months and years to come. Just as before; so after, too. Alex would not want it any other way.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

[koritea]

if you've already elaborated on it i definitely missed it but what's the general premise of COTS if you have the time/energy to elaborate >:0

Oh man [gripping the table to maintain my sanity] you have no idea how much this ask means to me I am SO MENTALLY ILL ABOUT THIS STORY LMAO

I've wanted to write a book since I was like. 10. And I've rewritten this particular story so many times it has zero resemblance to the original plot. WEEPS.

Putting this under the cut cause it got long LOL

Okay so firstly, there's the A-side and the B-side. Most of what I post here is B-side content (Icarus, Atticus, Empress, etc.), but the A-side is the main cast/storyline the books will follow.

To give a rough outline - the gist of it, if you will:

Our main character, Aria (some modern century twenty-something D&D nerd) gets thrown into another world via a magic door.

The story follows the same sort of cadence as a D&D campaign (you meet someone in town willing to give you information, something bad happens in the town that forces you to fight or flee, you want to help these people so you wind up biting off more than you can chew, etc.) but very quickly there's some weird stuff that comes up that isn't typical of your average campaign, and Aria gets pulled further into shenanigans with time gods, dragons, undead kingdoms and a familiar face turned catalyst.

She gets turned into a cat at one point :)

There's dimension hopping and timeloops and fucked up horror and maybe a sprinkle of murder and resurrection and betrayal and falling in love and consequences and I havE LORE FOR A STUPID PATCH OF GRASS I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING

B-side is mostly here because I can't not give all my character deep and meaningful lore. Wdym the bg character shouldn't have a 24k word document about his mother's necklace. What.

Icarus my favoritest boy my baby my big silly stupid flew too close to the sun and the sun said I love you and sacrificed itself to save him and the consequences nearly collapsed the universe and the gods had to piece together bits and parts of themselves to fill the gap but it's still not enough and the time god is so fucking tired of resetting the world to buy them time (hah) but it's all it can do because it loves so deeply and is not built to express it and it's tearing itself apart and and and-

Icarus is sort of the "main" character of B-side, but it's more like a collection of background stories of characters rarely/only hinted at in A-side, but they still effect the worlds enough to be important.

Empress has a whole arc at spans twice as long as Atticus's does.

Oh yeah and there's different pantheons and some things like gravity and time get wonky and there's the War of the Stars and the day the magic stopped and there's the inexplicable lack of something that no one remembers and there's this weird ass sphynx that pops up every now and then.

And I'm definitely rambling but you are MORE than welcome to ask questions. I am. Insane about this project. Maybe. Just a little. I might have four animatics sketched out and a dozen more in my head.

I have song playlists too!!

[mango-peach-strawberry]

Hey, you! Do you like Kid Icarus? Do you crave more Kid Icarus content but know we will not be getting any? Do you want Pit and Dark Pit to run around your computer screen stealing your tabs and causing a ruckus? Well, I’ve just made a Pit and Dark Pit shimeji! Click here to download it from Dropbox! Happy anniversary!

TW: There is some minor body horror - for more info read the editor's note!

Some insight on the process of making them under the read more for those interested!

So this was my second shimeji I ever made. This one is a duo shimeji - so both Pit and Pitto act individually. There is one action that allows them to interact, the "Tease" and "Cain Instinct" (originally named "Broadcast Affordance" and "Hunt" respectively.) In the original download, the two shimejis hug - but I didn't feel that represented the Pits.

When I first came up with idea for them, I knew I NEEDED to make Dark Pit kick Pit in the stomach (sound familiar?) and that... definitely took time. Some people in the 25 Years discord asked if I could make Pit fly across the screen after getting kicked and I knew I would have to do that manually.

I attempted making the kick have more impact and throw Pit far, but then often he would go offscreen and you wouldn't be able to see him anymore, so I settled for a shorter distance.

I was very tempted to make Pit daydream of something silly in the animation- food mostly. But then I felt that that leaned a little too heavily into the "Pit is dumb and only thinks about Floor Ice cream" so I asked for feedback and the consensus was that both Pits should be thinking of killing some enemies, so there we go!

Also I didn't want the boys to just multiply the way an unedited shimeji multiplies (sorta just... splits into two) so DP gets some Viridi nature magic and Pit gets some good ol' lazer.

The original plan was to give Pit and Dark different animations for everything- including walking, climbing, running, etc. That was TOO much, so the only real remnant from that is DP's ceiling climb. Similarly, I also tried to draw every frame individually (so no cutting and pasting parts of the body) and BOY that was... a decision! In the end I don't regret doing it because it gives a more 'hand drawn' appearance that I wanted, but it took so much longer.

To be honest, I did end up rushing this a bit at the end, I really wanted to have it available for download on the anniversary, and even though I'm not happy with some frames, I'm overall very proud!

I hope you all like them!

[silverjirachi]

silverjirachi’s Works and WIPs Master Post - 2023

I have a lot in the works and a lot to be completed so I figured I’d put an updated list all in one cohesive place. This will also be available on a page on my blog directly, in case you want to check in.

---

Pokemon Fandom

The Dead Sea Trilogy, @the-dead-sea-trilogy

Pokemon RSE / ORAS

Pairing: Archie & Maxie

Book 1: The Devil and the Dead Sea (complete) - 76,000 words

“So, where would you be, Mr. Sunshine, if the blistering sun dried up the raging sea?"

The first book in my hardenshipping trilogy, The Devil and the Dead Sea, focuses on Maxie's desperation to reach the Seafloor Cavern. After his own plans fall through, he must enlist the help of his enemy in order to reach his goals, and joins hands with Team Aqua in order to reach the cavern.

But along the way, a hidden romance is discovered between the two teams, and Maxie must bring his team - and his own sanity - back under control, lest he lose everything he's ever worked for in the process.

A traditional Enemies-to-Lovers - featuring many parties Maxie does not want to be at. Gossip, nonsense, sad feelings, and sea shanties ensue.

Featured Characters/Concepts: Maxie, Archie, Courtney, Tabitha, Shelly, Matt, Groudon & Kyogre, original Team Magma/Team Aqua crew, Maxie and Archie fighting and falling in love on a ship.

Link to AO3

Book 2: Icarus and the Blistering Sun (being updated actively!) ~ 100,000 words

Thanks for instilling dreams in me, Max. I’m off to pursue mine. See you when I awaken the great and mighty KYOGRE!!

The preqel to The Devil and the Dead Sea, Icarus and the Blistering Sun tells the story of the beginnings of Archie and Maxie's relationship-turned-rivalry, and how there once was a close partnership and even a friendship therein - and how it all went so bitterly, catastrophically wrong.

Follow a young, aspiring, college-age Maxie as he strives to find his calling. He and Archie--along with one other peculiar blue-haired scientist--travel the region to chart and discover the legendary Pokemon--inadvertently feeding this information directly into the hands of Team Rocket.

Featuring Even More Parties that Maxie Does Not Want to Be At, and Colress, who is only there to break rules. There is some light Maxie/Colress content, a peculiar and disastrous ship I am referring to as FeralScienceShipping

Featured Characters/Concepts: Maxie, Archie, Colress (B2W2), Petrel (HGSS), Domino (Team Rocket, Mewtwo Returns), Archie's encounter with Jirachi, Maxie's backstory, and the inception of Team Magma

Link to AO3

Book 3: Mother Earth and Her Infinite Sky (wip) ~ 100,000 words (probably)

“Thwarted by two twelve year old kids." Maxie paused again.  “Hm.  I don’t like that this is a recurring pattern for some reason.” “It’s like every region’s just linin’ up waitin’ for their next apocalypse,” Archie laughed.  “Who’s next?  Kalos?  Alola?  Sinnoh?” “Please don’t talk like that.” “What?  Why?” “Sinnoh is home to creatures far more powerful than Kyogre and Groudon.”

The third book in the Dead Sea Trilogy, in which Archie and Maxie (and their third wheel, Colress) are working together to build something new from the ashes of their two retired teams. They join forces with their mutual parole officer (Looker) to keep themselves out of jail, and to a stop to an emerging threat in the Sinnoh region.

Featured Characters/Concepts: Maxie, Archie, Colress, Looker, Matt, Shelly, Courtney, Tabitha, Team Galactic, Archie and Maxie's fledgling romantic relationship, Courtney's weird computer thing, and the Creation Trio.

Spinoff: Ophelia and the King’s Madness (wip) ~ 140,000 words

"N's heart is pure and innocent. But there is nothing more beautiful and terrifying than innocence."

This is one of only three quotes uttered by Concordia in the entire game. Ophelia tells the story of Ghetsis' lesser-known children, Anthea and Concordia, and how Concordia came to the conclusion she did. It explores Team Plasma as a cult, Ghetsis as its leader, and the two sisters as sheltered prisoners in their own "heavenly" home.

The story centers greatly on Concordia and the secret, romantic relationship she develops with Colress, who hides a great portion of who he is while continuing to experiment with Team Plasma and Project Genesect behind her back.

Featured Characters/Concepts: Anthea, Concordia, Colress, N, Ghetsis, Project Genesect, the logistics of Team Plasma as a cult, Ghetsis' manipulation of Anthea & Concordia in order to "correctly raise" raise N.

LINK TO PREVIEW: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28881342/chapters/70850358

Currently Unnamed: Dead Sea Trilogy one shots collection (brainstormed)

This will be a collection of related stories and one-shots featuring the cast of characters from the Dead Sea Trilogy, similar in vibe and feeling to Stories from Exile.

---

The Legend of Zelda

Exile//Vilify (complete) ~ 150,000 words

The boy was special, and he intended to find out why.

An origin story for Astor from Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity, Exile//Vilify tells the story of those that are chosen, and those who are not.

Astor has trained since childhood to become the next Royal Seer, but he is plagued with a dark secret: a prophecy that states that he will one day be expelled from the castle, sent into exile, and devote his life to Calamity Ganon.

General fiction, no extensive ship content. Featuring Astor as the royal seer, Astor having a deep, meaningful relationship with Zelda's mother, and a Fate-worshipping cult that calls themselves the Royal Order of the Seers.

Featured Characters/Concepts: Astor, Zelda's mother, King Rhoam, Master Kohga & Sooga, original Hylian characters, a deconstruction of the concept of fate & predestination, and an exploration of Astor's cult/eventual worship of Calamity Ganon.

Link to AO3

Stories from Exile ~ 50,000 words (ongoing)

In which Kohga and Sooga are really just friends.

Stories from Exile is a collection of one-shots, short stories, and other just general snippets, some much more serious than others, that are related to the world of Exile//Vilify. Majority focuses on "evil" Astor - aka, his time spent in exile - and his misadventures with the Yiga Clan, although there are a handful of stories of Royal Seer Astor in Hyrule Castle, including a few heartwarming ones with the baby Princess Zelda.

The Totally-Platonic relationship of Kohga and Sooga really takes the cake here though, and a great handful of stories also focus on Yiga-Clan shenanigans. There is a table of contents at the beginning so you are able to sort through and find what you'd like.

Updated sporadically as new ideas strike me, all canon or semi-canon to Exile//Vilify.

Featured Characters/Concepts: Master Kohga, Sooga, Astor, Lady Urbosa, Princess Zelda, the rest of the HWAOC crew. Antics.

Link to AO3

Trouble Will Find Me (wip)

"If I stay here, trouble will find me // If I stay here, I'll never leave." -The National, "Sea of Love"

Trouble Will Find Me stands as a prequel to Exile//Vilify. It is a story that focuses on Astor's mentor, Thelem, and what brought him to the Royal Order of the Seers, and to the events that take place right before his first meeting with Astor.

This is Thelem's origin story, featuring the formative years he spends on Satori Mountain, finding himself, his meeting and relationship with Azelphir, and a more in-depth look at the culture and religion of the Order of the Seers.

Featured Characters/Concepts: Thelem, Azelphir, deeper lore of the Order of the Seers, Thelem's origin story, Thelem and Azelphir's underlying feelings for one another. Blupees, Koroks, Hyrule's other supernatural phenoma, and the Lord of the Mountain.

PREVIEW - AO3

Rewoven into the Stars (complete) ~ 8,000 words

And this new king before him, he wasn’t like the old one.  He was stubborn and sweet.

Rewoven into the Stars was a gift/commission for a friend, which falls in the Stories from Exile universe. A portal opens through space-time and sends a rather strange (and kind) Ganondorf through. He and the formerly-royal seer spend the following weeks growing closer, even falling in love.

Featured Characters: Astor & Ganondorf from the Born Evil universe by @sherlocktheravencat

Link to AO3

Prophet to a Gerudo King (wip)

“Are you willing to vow your undying loyalty to me?  From not just now unto death, but into all your future lives to come?"

A one-shot that muses on the pact between Astor and King Ganondorf, with Astor acting as Ganon's royal seer. Semi-canon prequel to Exile//Vilify, depending on how you look at it.

Featured Characters: Astor, pre-Calamity King Ganondorf

The Rhoam Cucking Chronicles (complete?) ~ 4,600 words

"He fucked my wife." -King Rhoam, in the games (real)

A shitpost about Astor fucking Zelda's mom, the Queen of Hyrule. Based in the world of Exile//Vilify / Stories from Exile. I (might?) add more silly portions to it someday, although it is unlikely. I can be bribed to do it, however, as I can be bribed to do many things...

Featured Characters/Concepts: Astor, Zelda's mom, King Rhoam, Astor fucking Zelda's mom (obviously)

Link to AO3

Hyrule is Doomed! (ongoing)

Hyrule may be in a lot of trouble, yes. But under Link's professional, expert, and yes, even reckless care -- it certainly will not be doomed.

Hyrule is Doomed! is a SILLY collection of one-shot stories that detail my chaotic, shirtless himbo playthrough of BOTW/TOTK. Featuring tales such as Link scaling the castle naked and with six hearts (and beating Windblight Ganon), going west instead of east off of the Great Plateau, and the ever-beloved Guardian Tipping.

Updated as ideas and the memories come to me, or when I do something stupid in BOTW/TOTK again.

Featured Characters/Concepts: Link being silly

"Link" to AO3

[remeekuu]

Late cringetober day 30 - video game!! I love kid icarus uprising... the characters are just so delightful and I hope it gets more content/popularity outside of smash. (also I wanted to specifically draw palutena with green/purple since I hc her as aroace, but I couldn't not draw pit as well. So here's both of them :))

[nimue-hidden-lake]

Welcome To My Lake!

Redone intro

This is a side blog! Due to circumstances I cannot properly interact from my main (@thelakeofnimue). Until the issue is resolved (however long that might be) I would like for you to interact here (asks, dms, pings, reblogs)! Also if I follow you it might not show up properly. Just a heads up!

Hello there! Please, call me Nimue. I’m 22 years old and German (English is my second anguage). I am on the aromantic spectrum. I am genderfluid and thus what I identify as will shift on a whim. Please ask me for pronouns and what gendered terms I'm fine with at the moment! Or use They/Them and do not gender if you want to play it safe all the time. Due to this I also prefer to not label my sexuality (not like I know what to call it anyways).

I write a lot and sometimes draw. I will also make random posts though. I also write f/o imagines for everyone to enjoy! Let your mind go wild!

I will talk about whatever I am interested in so this is a mish–mash of posts and reblogs. I might take my time to warm up but I love meeting new people and interacting with others! Hit me, ask or reblogs whenever you want (even if it's just for f/o gushing, I love hearing it)! You can also DM me if you want to talk more!

Nice to meet you! I hope I am able to get to know you better in the near future!

For more info, read below the cut!

BYF

I am a selfshipper / yumejoshi and I am very open about this! I do not mind interacting with people who are not so feel free to interact with me either way (may it be posts, tags, dms or the askbox)! But if you do not feel comfortable with this fact, I suggest that you avoid this blog altogether since I share and post about this stuff a lot!

I love to write and talk about writing! Writing is my passion! I've been doing it for over a decade now! If you need advice, I'm ready to help! Also feel free to tag me in any of your writing! I'd love to read it! I'm still not sure to reblog some stuff or not. Give me a head's up if it's ok to reblog your stuff!

I experiment with my writing. While most of it is sfw and rather light hearted, I can and will write about darker themes sometimes! These posts receive a content warning however and I have a tag available in my tag list so you can filter that stuff. 

I am primarily an OC/Canon shipper and I will gush and write about these ships a lot! I also multiship in that regard!

I am not a single fandom blog! Though I have a primary interest which can change. My current primary interest right now is Hypnosis Mic.

General Tag List

#Nimue’s Whispers – Personal thoughts or headcanons

#Nimue's Lake – My written works

#Deep Waters – Written works dealing with heavier topics. I recommend blocking this tag if you wish to not see any of it!

#Waves – Answered Asks

My creative works

Nimue's Library (#Nimue's Lake)

Nimue's Dark Corner (#Deep Waters)

Nimue's Sketchbook (#Nimue's Sketchbook)

Fandom List

These are only a select few of many which mean a lot to me. Those marked bold are my current fixations.

Ensemble Stars

Hypnosis Mic

Bungo Stray Dogs

The World Ends With You

Fire Emblem

Obey Me!

Arknights

Project Sekai: Colorful Stage 

Touken Ranbu

Honkai Star Rail

Fate/Grand Order

Kid Icarus

Osomatsu series (Kun & San)

Genshin Impact

These are just some of my interests! I am enjoying many more fandoms! If you want to know if I am part of a specific one, ask!

Selfship Stuff

Overhaul? Yes. But I try to be a bit more careful with f/os nowadays so a lot are pending. I mainly focus on Ensemble Stars and Hypnosis Mic tho, so expect me to gush about them the most. I mostly post about Fling Posse at the moment. I love all of my f/os though!

"Shipped with s/i" means that I ship them with my s/i but I do not consider them f/os! I just enjoy the ship dynamics. Thus these ships are not personal to me by any means and I would not rank them as my partners due to a lack of feelings for them.

There are also a few f/os who are a bit complicated due to past circumstances (I rather not talk about it). Once I recovered and sorted my feelings I add them to the other rows especially Romani Archaman, I love him so much and want to decleare him my boyfriend again you have no idea... However long that will be. I love them though and plan to add and gush about them eventually once I moved on from the situation! I just don't know when that will be...

Iffy sharing Fling Posse (Ramuda, Gentaro, Dice), Henry (FE) and Blaze romantically (except with my friends). I will not block you but I might block your tag (if possible) or not follow back and/or interact with your posts (related to that f/o) if possible. I will also do it if we share f/os you feel uncomfortable sharing with. If I miss it though, I apologize. Just notify me if I do! If I follow you first (or reblogged something from you before) or if we already know each other from another platform, we are good though. I'm fine sharing everyone else though!

My top secret f/os are f/os I keep a secret for own reasons and at most I will vague post about them in public (if ever). I talk about them in private though and publish fanfics about them elsewhere. There is a chance I open up about them one day but no gurantee (I doubt it matters since none of them are f/os I often write about as of now). I am fine sharing them though!

Anniversaries

Ramuda Amemura - 15th November

Gentaro Yumeno - 22nd November

Dice Arisugawa - 23rd November

Ritsu Sakuma – 27th June

Rinne Amagi - 11th August

Izumi Sena - 24th September

Hokuto Hidaka – TBD (confession to be written)

Leo Tsukinaga - TBD (confession to be written)

Blaze - TBD (confession to be written) (sharing with a friend)

Henry - 25th May

Arataki Itto - TBD (confession to be written)

A list for my platonic f/os can be found here! Sharing is aok!

My main OC (S/I) for Ensemble Stars

Hypnosis Mic S/I

Bungou Stray Dogs S/I

S/I in Arknights (coming soon)

S/I in Fire Emblem Awakening

Etsuko Amata (Genshin Impact Version) (coming soon) (shipped with Itto)

Fling Posse Selfship / Yumeship Masterlist

Selfship Tags

#Nimue's Beloved – Romantic F/O Stuff

#Nimue's Family – Familial F/O Stuff

#Nimue's Besties – Other Platonic F/O Stuff

#Ritsann – Ship collection for Ritsu/Ann

#Ramuann - Ship collection for Ramuda/Ann

#Gennann - Ship collection for Gentaro/Ann

#Diceann - Ship collection for Dice/Ann

#Hokkann – Ship collection for Hokuto/Ann

#Rinnann - Ship collection for Rinne/Ann

#Izuann - Ship collection for Izumi/Ann

#Leoann - Ship collection for Leo/Ann

#Ittsuko - Ship collection for Itto/Etsuko

More coming soon

Other OCs & Ships

That won't mean that I do not ship any other OC/Canon stuff. I do actually and am still doing so. I also just love writing and creating characters as a whole.

Etsuko Koge (Enstars Version)

Karl Wolff (Ensemble Stars)

Oriko Himejima (Ensemble Stars)

Anneth (Kid Icarus Uprising)

Iris (Kid Icarus Uprising) (coming soon)

Nikke (Kid Icarus Uprising) (coming soon)

#Madoriko – Ship collection for Madara/Oriko

#Natsann - Ship collection for Natsume/Ann

#Juann - Ship collection for Jun/Ann

more to be added… 

Discord Stuff

Another way to reach me is Discord (it is usually easier tbh, I will check DMs there more often and am often online). The name is e_v_e_ (Eve)

Discord Profile at the moment (that is me)

Also running a (somewhat active) selfship server! Feel free to join us! Invite here!

DNI if…

you are here to start drama or talk about drama. I will be honest, hearing about any type of drama can stress me out and I prefer avoiding it here if possible. I myself will never talk about drama either, no matter what it is! Also, please do not involve me in any drama! 

you have a problem with content involving OCs and self inserts, leave! This includes OC x Canon + S/I x Canon content as well!

you are…

A racist

A bigot

A transphobe

Anti LGBTQIA+

A p*dophile / MAP

Proship

Comship

Other Blogs

@lake-archive - Overall writing

@astral-express-conductors - HSR Fanblog (18+)

@nimue-at-night - 18+ Blog

@crew-catz - Hypnosis Mic Fanblog (OC focus)

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

💋: what motifs/symbols do you associate with your ship?

I would love nothing more than to explain all of them.

Motifs/Symbols

When I say that they're the heart & soul of KBASW I mean it! Arthur & Celestine are the moral compass of the story/KBASW AU.

Tropes/Themes/Dynamics

@kirbyoctournament

As you can see once again I had too much fun. Sorry, it took a while for these inbox questions. I ended up putting them together because they went so "hand & in hand". (link to questions)

Once again I will say this again... "writing romance is a different type of beast I kid you not!" Shoutout to all the romance writers. I've been a single pringle my entire life so... that's why these posts (Celarthur/Merther) post take so long!

I hope my portals of romance aren't... I don't know how to put this "don't seem too romanticized" or that cringe (LOL).

Keep reading for my long in-depth explanation of the content. (and honestly I still don't think it's enough lol)

I hope you guys enjoyed the post.~

Please continue reading if want a full explanation of the following...

Motifs & Symbols explained~

Creatures:

Celestine: Owls are the symbol of wisdom, power, and spirituality; the birds of Athena. But they're also the symbol of bad luck and are also known as an omen of death.

I've worked this into her character, she's all known just like the animal she represents. But also worked the "bad omens" in her future sight... she mostly (if not always) sees horrific futures. Despite this, she's used that to her arsenal, after all, you learn more from your mistakes, or in this case horrible futures.

And of course, her "cracked warpstar" is her omen of death.

Arthur: Dragon (of course) can either be a force of good or evil. Bravery, ambition, and strength a symbols of adversity, and wickedness.

This paired so beautifully with Arthur's character, (since he is a redeemed good bean). All the best qualities can be used for good and evil... Also, I made his dragon green & red as a reference to the Welsh flag and well...

Alright truth be told the only reason I had Arthur go to "Yomi" is so I can justify why he as dragon monster form (I've been working on it)...hopefully you'll be seeing it soon

Flowers:

Celestine: Lotus represents overcoming adversity, the cycle of rebirth, and enlightenment. Not only that but spiritual growth.

Just like the flower itself, she was able to bloom in the murkiest water and despite all made the most of her life. The (sad) truth of it all is had she not had that hardship... she would have been just as egotistical & selfish as Icarus & Uther.

It was her "future vision" & her struggles that made her into such an empathic person.

Arthur: Marigolds represent family ties divinity and the connections between life and death.

And as I have recently revealed Sir Arthur is why Morpho Knight can go in & out of the living world. Also without spoiling anything refers to when he becomes King of Avalon. (and those of you who have seen Coco... there is indeed going to be a Marigold bridge that Arthur can create with his powers :3)

Elementals (symbols):

(Water power) Celestine (like her elemental) is a very go-with-the-flow person. She understands that the unexpected can happen at any moment and will change the course.

With Arthur when he's particularly stuck in a rut, Celty will give him options, or mentally stuck she goes to her "Rolodex of knowledge." Adaptive and flexible with he thinking, she's very willing to think outside the box.

This is also throwing Arthur's burn mark: I changed Arthur's burn mark (caused by Uther's fire magic) to just be the right shoulder. To represent the burning of the " angel on your right shoulder."

Celestine (who's a water element) is healing his right shoulder, or basically, the goodness he lost. Of course, the mark is still but in the sense he no longer bears the burden alone. "Literally taking the weight off his shoulders. " That he doesn't have to be this perfect soldier... that he can just be a "wart".

(Earth powers) Arthur, he can be stubborn (as a rock) and stuck in his ways, (which is why it takes him a while to get him out of Uther's thumb). But this also applies to his determination. Someone who doesn't give up and makes him incredibly ambitious.

When she's thinking "what I could've done" or "what I should've done", ruminating on it. (trapped in her own current) Using his "very a matter of facts" to remind her of what she's done, and that things are better because she did act.

Out of the many vast futures she sees, Celestine can rely on one constant... who was there for her was Arthur... he's her constant her rock. And was the thing that ultimately made her choose Arthur to be the one to help her fulfill Kirby's prophecy. Because she knew he'd still complete it even after she was gone/.

~

(I'd love to explain Arthur & Excalibur but if I'd go into detail with it that'd be going into spoiler. But for those of you who aren't familiar with Arthuriana lore... the true value of Excalibur is in the Scabbard...

But here it's for another reason... because the Scabbard & Excalibur are two separate relics. The scabbard belongs to Arthur... the sword however was never his.~)

The Yin & Yang to each other & when the sun and moon are brought together they form the dusk & dawn~ Taking on and bringing out the best in each other.

Tropes/Themes/Dynamics

Enemies to Lovers troupe & cop vs. vigilante.

As a result, they have such a fun back & forth and witty banter... but despite it they.

In short, the cop working for the corrupt system is first at odds with our lovable rogue. And believe they are the villainous one (because society says so), only to realize through their many interactions that they are fighting for good despite operating outside of the law.

Then eventually (the cop) realizes "Oh, crabs" I'm working on the wrong side. For Arthur, his hesitation/ignorance of this doesn't come from the idea of a "holier than thou mindset" (like Uther). Rather it comes from "I want to be accepted" & "I want to be worth something..." Arthur started as the weakest of the three (students of Uther) which is why he was burned by Uther (to be used as an example to the other two)

When he finally beat the odds it was his proudest moment. The desire to be seen by Uther was what blinded him and made him see his mentor as the pinnacle of what he should be. (but in reality, it was actually just a want for affection and praise.) And believed in these ideals (that Uther spits out), making the ends justify the means & ignoring the damage they cause. (For the greater good)

The fact that accepting this means that the suffering & all the hard work he went through were for nothing.

But it's through Celestine's influence as Merlyn who actively tried to expand his worldview. That there was so much more to life than war, and showing "Might is not always right" him there are other ways than (Uther's) brute force.

A more fulfilling & smarter way, where he can still do his duties without having to sell his soul for it. Having his first taste of unconditional love.

Leading him to be able him to befriend Gaius, and Kit Cosmo (who is Sir Kay in this) later become his sworn brothers, emotionally adopted by Sir Ector (Kit's father ), and tame/ befriend Fritz Stahlbaum (Ribbon's Grandfather).

The Double life /Secret Identity

Are very much an important aspect of Celestine's character. While she is confident in herself and who she is... it's not as herself it's as her alter-ego Merlyn.

Basically, being Merlyn it's not just her "redemption for Shiver Star" but this is also her escape as well.

She's seen as this hero, someone great and fantastical when she dawns on the the cloak and the mustache. She's the great mage Merlyn she can be herself... But when she's Celestine her true self she's seen as the broken... the useless Hero of Yore something to be hidden away and ashamed of.

(I'd know you from anywhere & any form)

Celestine only ever told her friends (Minerva Mimi- great grandmother, Dairus Drosslemeyr- Daroach's great uncle, and Velvet Stahlbaum- fairy Queen, Ripple's stepmother) about her Merlyn persona.

That's why it's such important that the only person to ever figure it out (without Celestine telling them... ) was Arthur. You see, Arthur Celestine as Merlyn, but as she became more popular in the diplomatic world, she. had to be seen more. (Much to Icarus & Uther's dismay~)

Arthur started to see the similarities between her and Merlyn... it was through her quirks & character that she was indeed Merlyn. And does not mind at all she's still the same person. Respectfully Arthur pretends that he does not know..

It was also through these interactions realization... that she does not value herself (true self) as Celestine.

And this hurts Arthur deeply, the person who he always saw as this amazing mage, who was the smartest person he knew.. doesn't see that in herself at all. Arthur has always asked her (as Merlyn) "what he could do to pay them for everything they've done for him..." But all they'd ever say was... "the fact that we're able to be finally partners in crime is enough for this old man" (basically they were saying, the fact we were finally friends & your company is enough).

Uses this as a chance (of knowing her identity and Celestine not being aware of it) to repay her for everything she's given him.

Not only that but he actively does things that make her more comfortable and appreciate herself more (as Celestine.) Buy subtly reminds her that she is Merlyn. And performing these small acts of kindness for her gives her chances to be herself around him and encourages it.

Scene Example of this/ & more of their Dynamic :

C: You know you don't have to do this for me, you merely have to just guard me have to-

A: Oh but I do...It seems your diplomatic work was overlooked... Unfairly I may add especially.

C: Thank you so much... War-ta (had to stop herself from calling him Wart) The war on the battlefield must be so physically taxing on everyone... people tend to forget it's a political one as well... this means a lot but in reality, it's not that much as you do.

A: I don't see it like that... if anything your battles are one of tongues

Y' know an old friend of mine told when people forget to appreciate you... you forget the importance of yourself, so they told me to perform small acts of kindness to myself... to remind myself.

I hope I'm overstepping or making you feel uncomfortable *sees her blushing & getting embraced*

C: No, it's nothing I just wasn't expecting someone to give me flowers today (Oh, hoot he's talking about me *as Merlyn*)... Your friend sounds wise~

A: Oh my friend? *smiles sweetly at her* I wish they could tell you this themselves... they have such a fantastic way with words... I don't know how convincing I sounded compared to them, after all... *looks at her directly* They're the smartest person I know~

C: Oh is that so * gets more embarrassed* that's so sweet of you to say... I should take his advice... I tend to forget this myself.

A: Oh no need to be so hard on yourself... Actually...* grins wickedly* the friend I speak of is actually a very old man... with very old bones... at first I thought he was making up old bones since he seemed so energetic for an old man~

C: Oh hoo hoo, hoot really? *nervously laughter

A: Ah, but alas I haven't seen him for awhile... perhaps its old bones have caught up to him... he just seemed so lively... but who are we to determine the vitality of the elderly after all... We're not old men!

C: Yes we most certainly are hoo hoo hoot *still nervously laughing*

Oh look dear we're already at the temple!

Good night dear have a wonderful evening *hilarious sprints inside*

A: Go-od night, My- la-lady *tries to stifle his laughter then-* AH BwaHAHAHAHAHAH!~

Alright, admittingly he does have a little slice of revenge for Celestine hiding her identity as Merlyn. With little fun jabs like that. (LMAO)

~

They do have this "More than the mask moment..." Arthur admits the only reason he ever found out that she was "Merlyn," was because they were the same person with or without the cloak.

Oh I have so many ideas for this but that'll be for another day~

Forbidden Love

And of course, it's forbidden!~

Since astral are born from wishes (made by the positive energy of the Fountain of Dream) there was no need for "relations". Not only that because of status, or (mainly Uther ), but a tragedy involving Sir Orpheus & his lover.

Uther took this as a chance to further his agenda "Look & at the tragedy of Sir Orpheus... look what happened to him and his lover! It's clearly a sign from Void... THIS LEADS TO WEAKNESS AND WEAKNESS LEADS TO DEATH! WE ARE SOLDIERS NOTHING MORE THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN WE DIVERGE FROM THE PATH! THIS IS OUR LOT IN LIFE DO NOT BELIEVE YOU CAN BE ANYTHING ELSE!"

And yes that is indeed Papi. (Sir Orpheus )

Nobody Gets Me Like You ~

They are the two sides of the same coin. Both of them are trapped in the positions they were given...

Arthur is trapped in the position of being Sir Uther's (bloody) right-hand man, his Perfect Killing Mach- I mean soldier- his golden boy.

Celestine is trapped in the position of being the Oracle... the broken one, the one cast aside, the overlooked and underestimated.

The key to breaking these chains that they've been cursed with is finding self-love within themselves. And they find that within each other. "A Steven Universe Love like you" moment.~

It's this deep understanding and trust they have for one another that allows love to develop feelings for one another. Emotionally they're both dealing with the same issue.

Being able to be there for one another and not having to explain it allows the other to put their guard down. And truly fall apart in front of another knowing that the other will hold them together.

I really love these two so much... if you've read this long thank you so much I hope you guys enjoyed the post!

[apollos-boyfriend]

ICATUS WAKE UP ITS FIBE NIGHTS AT FREDDIES ICARUS WAKE UP WAKE UP ICARUS ITS FREDDY FAZBEAR ICARUS

I SAW I SAW I SAW!!!!!!!! god the animatronics look SO fucking good, jim henson's creature shop you've fucking outdone yourselves again.

i'm not too into theorizing how closely the story might line up with the games/nitpicking inconsistencies because like, it's a Different Canon, much like the silver eyes trilogy or fazbear frights/tales from the pizzaplex, so ofc things are gonna be different. i do think it's interesting that they look to be going more with the books of the animatronics attacking kids, too. iirc with the exception of security breach, none of the animatronics ever hurt kids, only going after the night guard due to confusing him with wililam. (with the exception of baby, but that wasn't a "possessed suit wanting to turn kids into the same thing as them", that was just her programming)

ALSO!!! the employee of the month thing is such a fucking cool way to incorporate the content creators??? i hope we get a full shot of it in the movie (and maybe more of them actually starring in it??? cory's scene took me OUT i need more of that whiplash)

[fiveapocalypse]

Icarus and his wax wings

You wanted another one? :) @nirby-wirby

She finds him when she’s heading to the salon.

Having wanted nothing to do with this whole saving the world, talking to their father business, Allison was much more content with living life with her husband and fighting oppression but it didn’t mean she forgot her family, the people she’s lived with for so long that it was impossible to not recognize them, and now—as she herds the boy inside—, Allison finds that she cannot recognize her little brother at all.

He still had the same hair, same eyes, same face, but his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, and his face had tear stains and mud on it from what Allison assumed to have been him running in the rain. She ignores the stares of her friends, wetting a towel and wiping at his forehead. Five doesn’t even move an inch as she cleans him up, inspects whatever wounds he’s had on him and takes a look at his abdomen, pursing her lips because the stitches had been torn just a bit and it was no wonder Five was limping so bad.

“M’sorry.”

Head snapping up at the sound of his voice, Allison nearly chokes. “I didn’t—” Five gulps, tears in his eyes again, rocking back and forth, “—I didn’t mean to leave you guys, or, or let dad hurt you or—"

“Woah, hey, Five—" She grabs his face, making him flinch. “—I don’t know what that bastard said to you but whatever it is, it’s not true, okay? You were a kid. Kids do stupid things all the time.” Her brother looks unconvinced, sniffling pathetically, and when someone clears their throat, Allison turns to face her husband, whose bewildered stare makes her flush red.

Behind her, Five peeks out, nose bruised, scratches all over his face, and tugs Allison over, stepping in front of her, looking Raymond up and down.

She laughs despite herself. “Calm down.” Allison whispers, squeezing Five’s shoulder. “It’s okay. He’s okay. We’re uhm..” glancing at Raymond, and then back at her brother, Allison sits Five down and calls over one of her friends. “How about we fix up that bird’s nest on your head?” Her smile is soft, inviting, which makes Five, after glancing around, smile back in response. “In the meantime…”

Her eyes land on Raymond again and with a sigh, Allison rolls back her shoulders and runs a hand through her hair.

“I think I owe you an explanation. All of you.”

[lmk-6earm4c-au-blog]

6Ears-Wifey posted to r/ispp Reasons Why 6Ears from ISPP is a GOOD PERSON (y'all are just mean) a comprehensive thread:

He is actually a real person. He doesn't try to act positive all the time, and he was actually a little gruff and awkward back in S1 when some fans would talk to him. I think he wasn't used to being online and all that interaction yet so you know he's not some narcissistic mastermind trying to manipulate the internet into loving him.

Wholesome af. Like SO WHOLESOME he reminds me of my happy autistic stimming moments when he starts gushing about his interests and projects on a stream, you can tell that he really cares about his work and has fun with it unlike some soul less productions out there and it's just so pure to see 🥺 more happy 6 moments pls and thanks

He's an Indie content creator when he could be SO MUCH MORE. He turned down deals and sponsorships from bigger companies.

Even after moving his plays to YouTube full-time, he still puts on part-time plays for FREE even if there's only one person. ESPECIALLY if there are kids. You know what tweet I'm talking about with the teacher whose students missed out on their field trip due to crazy weather and he let them inside his theatre and put on a free show. We stan 😍

This is my friend's story but she fell asleep after one of his shows and instead of being a creep because the whole place was empty, he let her use his phone to call me to pick her up and kept the theatre open past closing until I got there since it was raining and he was just so normal and nice the whole time and encouraged her to pursue her acting dreams if she wanted. 10/10 motivational speaker and 10/10 respectful behavior. Yeah she got into her first choice college btw 😉 love you bestie! you earned it 😘 and ty 6 you're literally an inspiration

The only acceptable 6 sightings are those where he's watching a family of ducklings cross the street before someone tried to run them over and protecting them and the one with the baby monkey on his head??? He's so sweet with animals too. This is NOT a simp post I'm just saying.

He's broke af but when a fan said they couldn't donate because of their situation he went and paypal-ed all the money he got from the livestream to them??? Hello sir???

He ADORES his VAs and you can really see that with Heir because he's younger and we love seeing a director who actually cares about the actors involved. He's always uplifting them and having to defend them against everyone's toxic 💩

Case in point: Get out of here with 6 negativity! You're not welcome in our fandom.

🕊 icarus-withstyle follow

FINALLY SOME GOOD FUCKING FOOD

source: reddit

🌊 gentle-waters follow

ALL HAIL 6EARS-WIFEY!!!!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

🥔 hakuna_patatas