#but i ended up scrapping him. so I’m thinking. she did actually have a brother or a plan to have one but the idea wuz ultimately scrapped

[shivermewhiskerz]

Mm. Another Welcome home oc because I have a problem and I’m obsessed with her u don’t understand

Welcome home belongz to @//partycoffin !! Go check em out very swag I think

Explaining her more in the tagz <3

[weixuldo]

Unconditionally Epilogue (pt 2)

Anakin X Reader

a/n: This is the complete end to unconditionally, i’ve been putting off finishing part two but i really just got into it these past few days (nostalgia is a weird thing haha) but i hope you enjoy and i want to thank you all again- i wouldn’t have ever continued to write if you guys hadn’t supported me in the first place- so thank you so much :)

10 years later...

It’s a busy week at the Skywalker household: the twins are turning 18 and you and Anakin are celebrating your 10th anniversary

Warnings: cursing, kids, nudity, no sex but implied, mention of injury and car accidents.

___________________

“Maker!! This is for me?” Leia exclaimed happily when the two of you handed her the smooth car fob. 

“It's all yours princess” Anakin smiled as he went in to hug her. 

“We wanted to send you off to college with a more reliable car; we also got you a bunch of accessories and stickers for the inside, they’re in the living room. I think you’ll really like them” you added. 

She hugged you next, “Thank you so much!”.

“Thank you daddy”  she said, walking towards the sleek auto infront of her.

“Yea. thanks ‘daddy’,” Han teased before going off to join his ecstatic girlfriend.

Anakin’s smile turned to an annoyed scowl; that smug son of a bitch was gonna get it some day, but as of now Anakin refrained from violence.

“I don't know about that Solo kid, he might end up six feet under with me holding the shovel someday” Anakin half joked, half actually meant. 

“Whatever” you rolled your eyes playfully, “as if you weren't a cocky son of a bitch when we first met”

He gave you a smug look with his brow raised.

“You know it's true, “Mr. Skywalker’” you smirked at the formal title you hadn't used in years. 

He huffed out a laugh and pulled you into his side, returning the smile. 

By the car, Leia raved to her boyfriend about the interior and he happily listened with a huge grin (he knew he’d be driving them on dates in it in the near future). 

Luke popped out of the garage with a smile and his safety goggles crookedly laid in his fluffy hair.

“Finally!” he exclaimed, “mom and dad have had me keeping your present in the garage for two weeks now! About time you got it”.

Leia turned to her brother, “you knew?!”.

“Of course I did, I helped pick it out- I got you the newest model with the best safety features. Cant have my sister going to college in a hunk-a-junk” he joked. 

A wide smile plastered itself on Leia's face as she rushed to embrace her brother. 

“I’m so glad you like it honey” you said, hugging her once more.

“And now that your brother finally stepped out of his cave, we can give you your gift,” Anakin said, turning to his son.

All of you walked back into the house and Anakin pulled out a plain white envelope.

“So, I know your sister’s gift is actually useful right now, but I’m sure you'll be very pleased with yours”, Anakin said as he handed the slip to his son.

Luke was confused but happily opened the envelope. You watched his blue eyes scan over the words and once it all clicked, he leapt up from the bar stool he was on. 

“No way! No fucking way!” he exclaimed, making Han and his sister laugh. 

Anakin shook his head with a smile. 

“What is it?” Leia asked, but before you could answer her, Luke practically tackled you in a giant hug. 

You smiled and embraced him warmly before he left to do the same to Anakin (a little gentler). 

“Thank you thank you!!” he said, clenching the paper. 

“Luke, what is it?” Leia asked again.

“They got me that old camaro that's been sitting in watto’s scrap yard. I’ve been wanting to fix that old thing up for years!” he grinned like a kid who just got told they were going to disney world. 

“There's more at the bottom,” you said with a smile. 

Luke shouted again, “NO WAY!”.

“What now?” Leia said, playfully rolling her eyes at her easily excitable brother. 

“Mom and dad got me a pass for next year’s car show- I’ll fix up the camaro and enter it!”. 

“That’s amazing Luke! You’ve wanted to be in one for forever!” 

He smiled and thanked the two of you once more. 

After the excitement of the gifts both of the twins went their separate ways to see their new presents; Leia went to test her car and Han helped Luke bring the other car over to the house. 

_________________________________________

“Be good for your sister and brother, alright baby?” you said as you hugged Rey close.

You and Anakin’s anniversary was tomorrow so you were leaving for the islands today. Anakin rolled the rest of the luggage into the back of his car before coming back to say goodbyes.

“I will mommy” Rey smiled proudly.

“That’s my girl” Anakin said, walking in from the garage.

“Daddy!” Rey exclaimed, reaching her arms up for Anakin.

He bent down to hug her tight and kissed her head, “Hey Pumpkin, we’ll be back in a week, alright?”.

Rey nodded her head before asking her brother to pick her up. He obliged as you, Anakin and Leia gave your parting hugs.

Next, Luke handed Rey over to Leia so he could hug you two goodbye.

“Have fun kids, we love you and will see you next tuesday” you smiled and waved as you headed for the car.

“make good choices- if I come home to a-“

“don’t worry daddy, i’ll keep these two idiots in line” Leia laughed as she pointed behind her at Han and Luke.

“ok- call if you need anything- love you!”

“of course! Miss you already” the twins smiled before going back into the house.

Once you and Anakin were buckled in, you squeezed his bicep with a wide grin.

“Someone’s excited” he laughed before kissing your forehead.

“You have no idea”

______________________

You arrived at your villa and flopped onto the large bed as Anakin put some of your luggage by the dresser on the other side of the room.

It was one that overlooked a private cove and came with pretty much every special amenity you could ask for (full working juice bar, hot tub, complimentary spa, embroidered towels, personalized rooms, you name it!).

“My love, come here” you called, patting the space beside you.

The smile lines in the corners of his beautiful eyes crinkled as the corners of his mouth turned upward, “alright angel”. 

He joined you and kissed you on the temple before asking what you wanted to show him. 

You dug around in your bag and pulled out a photo album you had made for your anniversary. 

“Happy anniversary, Ani,” you smiled. 

He looked at the square book and his eyes softened, “Is this for me?”.

You giggled, “who else would it be for silly?”. 

Your heart skipped when his mechanical hands brushed over yours as he took the book from you; even after ten years he still made you feel like a giddy teen. 

“Holy shit” he exclaimed as he opened the book, “Where’d you dig this one up from?”.

The first photo was a candid photo from your wedding; you were sitting in Anakin’s lap with your arms around his neck as he looked at you adoringly. 

“Rex actually took that one, he showed it to me when I went over there to pick Rey up from her playdate”.

“Maker, we look young- Well, you still look like this… I just look old” he joked. 

You kissed his temple, “no you don’t! You’re just well loved” you smiled. 

“That’s what you’d say to someone who looks old!” he exaggerated. 

You set the book up chronologically so that things from your college days when you first started working for him were at the beginning.

On the next page was a copy of the first check you ever got from him (obviously it was illegal to copy checks- but you weren’t actually going to use it).

His signature was much smoother back when he actually could sign with his hands. 

He eyed the page filled with small mementos from your early days together with a smile, “I can’t believe you kept some of this stuff” he said as he ran his mechanical fingers over the valet ticket stub from your first date.

“What can I say, I’m sentimental” you smiled, kissing his cheek. 

As the pages continued he watched his younger self become more and more happy with each turn. You really did light up his life.

There were photos of you and the twins playing, candid photos of him, ones that you took with him after long nights of love making… Everything was right here. 

“Hah! Look at that” he exclaimed as he came across some hand turkeys and swans you had taught the kids to make the first thanksgiving you were with them. 

“I used to find those damn things everywhere!”. 

He squinted once he reached the next page, there was a gray text message bubble cut out at the top of the page.

I should be home a bit earlier today, maybe we can watch that movie you’ve been talking about. 

“What’s that?” he asked.

“The last text you sent me before you got into your accident” you said, squeezing his upper arm softly. 

The next page had a picture of his completely totaled car as well as the first few photos you had of him when he was in a coma. It wasn’t pretty, but it was a part of him- a part of your journey together.

“Fuck, I forgot just how bad the car looked…” he said as he scanned the photo. 

His black Audi’s front was completely crushed and it barely looked like a car with the amount of dents and scrapes it’s body had collected.

You still weren’t completely sure what happened that day for it to have been so fatal. And Anakin barely remembered anything from the accident up to a few weeks after. 

“Maker- and me!” he said, diverting his analytic gaze to the glossy photos of his broken body lying in the ICU.

You nodded as he continued turning- the next few pages were his recovery period in the hospital; his first picture awake, his first with Ben and Satine, first with Ahsoka, his first with you, and his first with the twins. 

Looking back at the pictures made you really see how far he’d come- there was a time when the doctors didn’t think he would make it. 

Soon the pictures’ settings began to shift out of the hospital and into the house; his first time back home and other pictures from that christmas (there weren't many photos from the period you and him went through a rough patch, only one or two that Ben had lying around).

The next picture of everyone was at your college graduation; all smiles. 

You remembered your graduation like it was yesterday; it was the tail end of your rough patch with Anakin and he was the last person you expected to see in the sea of people. Your massive smile in the photo showcased just how happy you were to see him again. 

“You looked so good in that dress, Angel '' he cooed, nuzzling into your neck to steal a quick bite. 

“haha - stop!” you giggled, lightly pushing him away. 

“You still have it?” he asked jokingly with a smirk. 

You rolled your eyes, “...yes”.

His smirk grew into a lopsided grin, “I think you should wear it for me when we get back”. 

“HAH! Ani, I don’t even know if it still fits me?!”

He set the book in his lap and squeezed his mechanical hands around your waist making you squeal. 

“Ani! That tickles!” 

“Yea, i’d say you’d still fit- well maybe not this” he smiled grabbing the fat of your ass. 

“Ani!” you scolded.

All he could do was laugh, “What princess? I never said I didn’t like it- You know I love your ass”.

You swatted his hands away with a laugh- “Stop it! Finish looking at the book” you giggled. 

He turned his attention back to the album. The next few pages were covered in your wedding photos; a close up on his face when he saw you walk down the aisle, your face when he stood after saying his vows and a nice still photo of your first dance. 

“This was the best night of my life,” Anakin said with a reminiscent smile. 

“Me too, Ani”. 

The next photos were of his return to work, your pregnancy announcement, Rey’s birth, the twins’ first school dance, and other family milestones. 

There was a section near the end full of pictures of the kids; “first day of school” pics, vacation pics, and other moments where they were just being themselves.  

Finally the last page was the most recent picture of the two of you; it was at a rooftop bar for a gala his company hosted, he was dressed in a nice suit and you wore an off-the-shoulder gown- the photo was a candid Ben had taken of the two of you kissing after Anakin made his speech. 

He closed the book lightly and placed it on the end table beside the bed before turning to you with glassy eyes. 

“Y/n Skywalker, I love you more than anything on this earth- you are absolutely perfect” he said pulling you into his lap (which you gladly obliged). 

“Thank you” he said into your hair as he hugged you close. 

You tossed your arms around his neck and held on tightly, “I love you too, Anakin ''.

__________________________________

 Anakin’s gift to you was much more extravagant than yours to him, but the whole time he kept apologizing for his not being able to compare to yours (and you knew he meant it). 

He took you to one of the nicest restaurants on the island and then took you to the aquarium for part of your present. You were always a big fan of conservation and the oceans, so he donated a large sum to have a portion of the local reef named after you.

“Ani, this is amazing! Thank you so much!” you grinned ear to ear as you ran your fingers over the golden plaque with your name on it. 

He shyly cast his gaze away from yours, “It really doesn’t compare to yours- you’ve just always been the better gift giver”. 

You shook your head and grabbed his hands, “no, no Ani! I absolutely love this- and they’ll make sure to watch over the reef right?”.

He nodded with a smile, “Yes, my love. This section is under protection and will now be being sustained and cleaned by certified locals so that it will continue to thrive”.

You hugged him, “Thank you, I love it”.

“Of course. Angel”

The two of you walked hand in hand through the dark aquarium (Anakin had it completely reserved for tonight for just the two of you). 

Walking through the tunnel of brightly colored fish never failed to mesmerize you; their fluid motions, the shapes and sizes, you loved it.

Anakin watched your expressions change adoringly; after all these years, after becoming a mother, after becoming an influential and respected figure you could always find wonder in the smallest things. 

He loved that about you.

You did what he never could, you showed him how to be happy and how to push through the toughest times. That's why he knew you were perfect for him. 

After a few stolen kisses under the watery biomes, Anakin had a driver take you back to the villa.

Anakin began a warm bath for you in the fancy whirlpool tub; he opened the sunhatch, tuned on soft lights, added flower petals and some sweet fragrance. 

Once he entered the bedroom again, you had gotten undressed and were only wearing one of the new silk robes he got you and a smile.

“Hey Ani” you said with a small wave.

Like a moth to a flame, he walked towards you. 

“Hello, my love” he said with his low voice as he placed his mechanical hands on your hips, drawing you closer. 

You stood on your tippy toes and kissed him gently, “I think you should join me in the bath”.

When you leaned back he cocked his head to the side with a smirk, “Oh, should I now?” 

He played with a strand of your hair that you must have missed when you twisted it up. You nodded and began to take his suit coat off.

He chuckled at your determination and allowed you to help him undress; his body hadn’t seemed to change too drastically but there were some definite differences. 

He was more muscular than he was the first years after the accident but still wasn’t at the shape he was when you met him.

He was still slim but he collected some extra fat around his love handles; his crows feet and smile lines were more prominent, but in a way they made him more endearing. 

His scars had mostly all faded but every once in a while would flare up. As for his limbs, they all healed pretty well and his prosthetics were regularly updated. 

He was still just Anakin though… your Ani. 

“I think you’re ready” you said after placing a tender kiss on his bicep. 

His robotic digits danced around the hem of your robe until he pulled the loosely tied bow around your waist; the robe cascaded softly around your feet, leaving you bare. 

Anakin’s eyes admired your body and he sucked in a breath. 

“And now you are too”.

He was not the only one who’s body changed; after having Rey, you gained some light weight and stretch marks, your breasts had grown larger and you seemed to have a bit more fat on your ass (not that Anakin minded at all). 

You too had collected some smile lines but you had no problem with them. If you ever felt bad about your body, Anakin swatted those thoughts away really quick.

He always made you feel like the only girl in the world.

With a loving smile you led him into the large bathroom and helped him sit on the side of the tub before disassembling him. He always preferred legs first because he liked to hold onto you as long as he could.

At this point in life there was no part of him you hadn’t seen and no part of you that he hadn’t seen- so he was much less shy about having you help him.

Once everything was off you helped him into the tub; he sighed at the warm water caressing his body, you couldn’t wait to join him. 

You stretched once more and entered the tub gracefully. Before long you were lying against Anakin’s chest with a content smile- this was the best anniversary yet. 

Out of habit you fidgeted with the gold chain around your neck- you and Anakin had amassed several important dates since you first got each other the pendants. 

Anakin’s had your, the kids, and his first wife’s birthdays on them as well as the date of his accident and your wedding. And yours had Anakin’s, and the kids birthdays as well as your graduation date/when he proposed and your wedding day.

After all these years, after all you had been through together- you couldn’t ask for a better lover.

Only the stars knew that the mousy college student you were and the cold mannered businessman Anakin was, would eventually make it work.

You couldn’t be more thankful- and as you sat happily in Anakin’s embrace, you told him what you always did, 

“I love you so much Anakin…unconditionally”

***

a/n: so now it’s completely finished 🥲 i’ll miss this story but im also glad to have it finished :) i hope the epilogue chapters were enjoyable for u guys!! i tried to tie in the original trilogy and sequels a bit :) now we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming haha

Taglist: @katsukiswrld , @wtf-andys , @angeelcoree , @jetiikote , @khaleesihavilliard , @sxoulchvn, @sakura-amethyst, @dottodottoo , @vader-is-hot , @circuloctm , @jellydodger, @shadowheads-shitshow

[runesandramblings]

"To the Ends of the Earth"

Word Count: TBD / ongoing

Content Warnings: none, follows the events from The Hobbit so there will be the expected violence from the movies

Pairings: KilixOC

Themes: crossover Marvel x Tolkien, romance, fanfic, canon-ish events

Summary:

In the wake of The Blip, the multi-verse has expanded knowledge of the universe in ways no one thought possible. For the first time, journeying between realms and realities is a tangible possibility.

Ex-SHIELD agent and Avenger, Lilith Lenore, is hiding from her past, shunning the life she once led. But when an offer from a wizard of another world is extended, she cannot refuse.

Chapter 9: A Fallen Prince

Dusk had begun to fall as we reached the top of yet another jagged peak. As we wound around the trail that worked up to a plateau overlooking a cliff, Thorin lifted his hand from the front of the pack, gesturing for us to come to a halt. 

“We camp here.” He said loudly, dismounting from his pony.

The others began to dismount as well and I followed suit, jumping from the back of my pony and landing with ease on the soft grass. I stroked Rosie’s nose and offered her a small carrot I’d gotten from Bombur earlier in the afternoon. 

“Good girl.” I said quietly. “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” 

My eyes landed on Bilbo a few feet away. He jumped down from the back of his own pony and sneezed in the same motion, nearly causing him to lose his footing in the process. He pulled the scrap of Bofur’s shirt he’d been given as a handkerchief from his jacket and wiped his nose with it. Though my bet with Kili and Fili suggested otherwise, I’d been shocked when Bilbo had actually shown up. Of course I’d been hopeful he would find it within himself to tag along, but part of me was still surprised he’d decided to join.

“Are you doing alright?” I called over to him.

He nodded unconvincingly as he looked at the shirt scrap in his hand. Despite his reassurances to us all that he was fine, I could tell he was very much out of his element. 

“This will be the farthest I’ve ever been from the Shire, you know.” He said instead, not answering my question as to his well-being.

I didn’t press it. 

“This is the farthest I’ve been from home as well.” I reciprocated. “This world is still very strange to me. I know how it is to feel so out of place.” 

He seemed surprised. 

“Well, yes. But you, you’re built for this.” He gestured to me, then to himself. “I’m. Well. Look at me.” 

I offered a sympathetic smile as I stepped closer to him, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Bilbo. I think you have more to offer than you know.” 

Bilbo returned a grateful smile. Aside from Gandalf and myself, the dwarves had not made much of an effort to speak to him. I didn’t think it was a lack of manners or care; it seemed they did not know what to say. I wondered as to the relations of dwarves and hobbits. It seemed that many groups in Middle Earth kept to themselves. Hobbits were certainly wary of outsiders, and from Thorin’s coldness to me initially it seemed dwarves were as well. Perhaps it was lack of experience over unkindness. Before either of us had the chance to speak again, Thorin approached with orders for the evening preparations. 

“Lilith, take Fili and go find some wood for the fire. Kili, secure the ponies.” He stopped, looking down at the hobbit between us. “Bilbo…go help with dinner.” He finished uncertainly.

I nodded and Bilbo and I exchanged goodbyes as he scurried away. I pivoted around on my heel, looking through the crowd of dwarves to find the brother I was to work with. 

Fili stood with Kili a few yards away. I was too far to hear the words being exchanged, but they appeared to be speaking intently about something. Kili was gesturing, pointing backward in my direction and then to Fili. Fili grinned, he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. Whatever was being said, it appeared that Kili was not as amused as his brother was. He scowled, and his gesturing became more frantic. As I drew closer I saw Fili nod, seeming to relent to whatever it was his brother was saying. He drew two small axes from somewhere in his coat and handed them both to Kili. Finally a grin broke across his face. I heard him utter something I could not make out as he turned around and jogged over to meet me halfway. 

“Let’s go, Lil.” He said as I approached. He walked past me and gestured for me to follow him. 

“I thought you were with the ponies?” I asked, still standing in place. I looked between him and Fili in confusion, as Fili had already begun to gather the ponies together. 

He stopped and turned back to face me. 

“We traded. Come on.” He said again, turning to leave once more. 

“Why?” I called after him, still unmoving. 

He didn’t answer, and only gestured again for me to follow him. 

I stared after him curiously for a moment before deciding not to pursue it. I followed him back down the winding trail we’d just come up on horseback. We only walked a few yards down and around the bend in the path before he ducked off into the forest. He slowed momentarily to allow me to catch up, and once I’d drawn even with him we walked beside each other in silence. 

We’d spent most of the day chatting, sometimes with Fili as well, but mostly just us two. I’d thoroughly enjoyed our conversations, but the quiet was a nice reprieve after a long day. He’d spoken of his family, of his mother back home. He told me his father had died fighting alongside Thorin after the dragon had taken Erebor. He told me what he remembered about his father, the little that he could. How he always smelled of leather and pipe tobacco, how his earliest memories involved him carving small wooden swords for he and Fili to play with. He spoke of his mothers resilience, how she soldiered on a single mother after their fathers death. How strong she was for her two young boys, despite the painful loss of her husband. He told me how Thorin had stepped into the role of father for them immediately and had come to live with his sister after the war. He’d raised Kili and Fili as his sons, even going as far as naming Fili his heir since he’d never had children of his own. I could tell he was curious about my family as well, but I’d managed to divert him back to speaking about his anytime he’d prompted me to speak of mine. He seemed to take the hint and didn’t pry; I knew it would have to come up eventually, but I wasn’t ready for that conversation quite yet. 

“I think this is a good spot.” He said finally as we came to a stop in a small clearing. Small clusters of sapling trees surrounded us, large enough to keep a fire going but small enough we could cut them down with ease. He handed me one of the two miniature axes with a smile and we went to work on opposite sides of the grove.

We continued to work in a comfortable silence, the only noises coming from the breeze rustling the leaves of the trees above us and the alternating sounds of our axes echoing  across the empty forest. Our paces kept time with each other as we worked, I heard the swings of his ax land with a thud in between each swing of my own. 

After I’d created a pile I was satisfied with, I stood and stretched my aching back. As I took a long sip from my water I felt my eyes involuntarily drift to Kili, still working. His back was turned as he worked, and he didn’t appear to notice I’d paused. He’d taken off his outer leather tunic and cloak, revealing a dark blue fabric shirt underneath. The sweat he’d worked up from the day's travel caused the light fabric to cling to his body. Though he and Fili both appeared to be more slim than the other dwarves, I was surprised to see the broadness of his arms and shoulders that had been hidden beneath the outer layers. He’d pulled his hair partially up in a leather band while he worked, exposing the upper parts of his back and shoulders. With each swing of his ax the muscles flexed and contracted, and I found myself staring for much longer than I’d intended.  

“Are you finished over there?” Kili called over his shoulder. 

I quickly turned back to the pile I’d collected, hoping he had not noticed my gaze lingering on him.

“Uh, yeah.” I stuttered out, quickly slipping Fili’s borrowed ax into my belt. “I think I’ve got enough. We should probably head back before dark.” 

I bent over and used a section of rope from my pack to secure the logs in a bundle. Before I had the chance to lift them onto my back, I heard Kili approach from across the clearing.

“So about you not being entirely human…” He started.

I turned around to face him and found him gesturing to the pile of logs I’d collected. I looked between my bundle and his own; I’d collected twice what he had in the same amount of time. 

I hesitated. I had fully intended to keep my past as well as any personal information to myself throughout this experience. However, I hadn’t anticipated making a friend so quickly. There was only so much I’d be able to do to deflect his questions, and I decided it would not hurt to explain. For the first time in years, I found myself opening up and allowing someone into the smallest portion of my past. 

“I was a spy for another country in my world.” I started. “I got caught by the enemy and they offered me a choice. I could either be in prison for the rest of my life, or work for them. I chose to work for them.”

He nodded.

“But…they didn’t just want me to work for them. They had started to experiment with what they called super soldiers. They created a…” I paused, searching for a way to explain the serum. “I guess you could call it a potion.” 

“It was magic?”

“Not exactly. Magic doesn’t exist in my world like it does here. Not in the same way. They were able to develop this, they called it a serum, that would give a person more…heightened skills.” 

“Such as?” He prompted. 

“There were different versions, so the outcome varied. My friends, they got a stronger version. The one I was given was a little less potent. But it still makes me better than an average person.” 

“In what ways?” 

“I’m stronger. Not crazy strong, I couldn’t lift a boulder or anything. But I’m stronger than an average man. I’m faster. I can see and hear things that most people can’t. I heal quickly, if I’m injured. With that, I also age much more slowly. I’ll likely live much longer than a normal human. And there are smaller effects too. I feel like it made me more agile. I swear it made me smarter, made it easier to think and react quickly. What are you grinning at?” 

As I spoke a cheeky grin had begun to spread across his face, to the point he appeared to almost be laughing. I felt a frown furrow my brow. I wasn’t sure what could have possibly been funny out of what I’d just told him. 

“So you think you’re stronger than me then?” He asked. 

I stared at him blankly. Of all the things I’d just told him, of course that was the part he’d picked out. Men. 

“I don’t think it, I know it.” I said flatly. “You wouldn’t stand a chance.” I gave him a smug smirk in return as I bent over and lifted the bundle of logs with ease. I tossed it over my shoulder onto my back before grabbing his bundle as well to prove the point of my strength. I stepped around him and began walking back in the direction we’d come from. 

“We’ll have to put that to the test someday soon, my lady.” I heard him call from behind me. 

**

After dinner and exchanging stories around the fire for a few hours, most of the company had slowly begun to disperse and settle in for the night. I could not be certain of the time, but it was well past sunset. A still quiet had settled over the makeshift campground, interrupted only by the random sounds of snoring dwarves and crickets chirping from the forest. Aside from myself sat up talking with Kili and Fili, Balin and Gandalf appeared to be the only other two awake at this hour. They were the farthest from the sleeping mass of bodies huddled around the fire; they sat near the treeline towards the cliff, speaking quietly and smoking their pipes. I was surprised I’d not yet drifted off myself. After dinner Kili had told Fili of my abilities, and it had quickly led to a conversation about each of our strengths and proficiencies, as well as even more questions about my world.

“You’ve never used a sword?” Fili asked incredulously. “You, who threw a dagger at my uncle for looking at you funny?”

“First of all, he did more than look at me funny.” I said defensively. “The weapons in my world are just …different.” 

“How?” Kili asked, leaning forward. I could smell the sweet scent of the tobacco from the pipe he smoked lingering on his breath as he scooted closer to me.

“Swords just aren’t used anymore. They’re considered a little outdated for us.” I grinned. “We’ve evolved.” 

I’d picked up on the stubborn pride of dwarves pretty quickly, and I couldn’t resist teasing the brothers a bit. As if on cue both sat up a little straighter at my challenge, looking between each other in disbelief before looking back at me.

“Well my apologies, miss.” Kili huffed, taking the bait. “ I’m sorry our weapons are not good enough for you.” 

It was almost too easy. 

“Well, maybe you can show me a thing or two.” I offered. “If you aren’t afraid of being beaten by a lady.” 

“It would be my honor.” He grinned in return, putting his hand over his heart. “To best you at something.”

“Ah, better leave that to me, brother.” Fili interjected, throwing a smug smile at his younger sibling. “It’s my area of expertise, after all.” From what I’d been told by them that evening, Fili was the better swordsman, while Kili was the better archer. 

Kili opened his mouth to respond as a piercing, shrill shriek rang out from the canyon below. I jolted, immediately reaching to feel the hilt of the blade on my thigh. It was unlike any sound I’d ever heard, and I felt my stomach clench as a second, equally shrill rebuttal echoed immediately after. There was something animalistic, but also unnatural to it. Even in comparison to the strange aliens I’d faced on Earth, something about it sent a shiver down my spine.

Bilbo had also perked up from where he stood sneaking an apple to his pony. We made eye contact and he stood frozen in place, looking from me to the brothers I sat between in search of an answer. 

“What the hell was that?” I whispered, instinctively leaning in closer to Kili. We were already sitting fairly close together, and I found myself unintentionally pressed completely against his side. He didn’t seem to mind the contact as he leaned in even closer, bringing his face a mere inches away from mine.

“Orcs.” He said quietly. 

“Orcs??” I heard Bilbo whisper harshly. He quickly tiptoed through the mass of sleeping bodies, coming to stand closer to the safety of where the three of us sat. He looked around uncertainly, as if he expected the spoken of creatures to appear at any moment.

Neither of the brothers seemed phased. 

“Throatcutters. There’ll be dozens of them out there.” Fili said simply. He gave Bilbo a knowing look as he puffed a plume of smoke from his pipe. “The lone-lands are crawling with them.”

“They strike in the wee small hours when everyone’s asleep.” Kili continued quietly, looking from myself to Bilbo. “Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood.” He finished with a whisper. 

I felt my eyes widen. Before I could open my mouth to ask any follow up questions, I saw him look back at Fili. He grinned and both exchanged a low, throaty laugh. I grimaced when I realized they had been toying with Bilbo and I. 

“Oh, so funny.” I muttered, elbowing both of them harshly in the ribs. 

“You think that’s funny?” 

Thorin’s voice boomed from behind us, startling everyone who was still awake.  “You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?” He rounded the corner and stood looming over us, glowering down at myself and his nephews. 

I felt my cheeks flush. The last thing I’d wanted to do was lead Thorin to believe I didn’t take this mission seriously. 

“We didn’t mean anything by it.” Kili mumbled awkwardly, averting his eyes to the ground. Fili and I kept our gazes directed downward as well, avoiding Thorin’s angry glare. 

“No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world.” He barked. He glowered at the three of us before turning on his heel and storming towards the cliff’s edge. 

I could feel Kili’s embarrassment as the awkward silence lingered. I hesitated for a moment before reaching out and gently resting my hand on his knee, hopefully in what he would take as a gesture of comfort. He looked over at me and smiled half heartedly as he placed his hand gently on top of mine in a silent gesture of gratitude. 

“Don’t mind him, laddie.” Balin’s voice cut through the silence as he approached. “Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs.” 

Balin told us of how Thorin and the dwarves of Erebor had faced down an army of orcs decades before in an attempt to reclaim another dwarven kingdom. As he explained Thorin’s loss of both his father and grandfather that day, I realized from the story Kili had told me earlier that it must have been the same battle they lost their own father in. Balin spoke of Thorin’s courage, his leadership. How he’d rallied the dwarves to victory that day, in spite of the insurmountable loss. How he’d faced down an orc named Azog alone, earning the name Oakenshield he went by now. 

As Balin’s story ended I watched Thorin as he came walking back toward us. The hardness of his exterior, the way he carried himself... I realized I’d misjudged him as cold and uncaring. In reality, he was far from that. I better understood the pain behind his eyes, his hesitance to trust outsiders. He had been through hell; they all had. I felt a surge of pride for my role in the company. I was happy to be a part of it, and hopefully I’d be able to help them reclaim a small bit of what had been lost.

Thorin disappeared back around the edge of the rocky wall we’d leaned against and Fili stood awkwardly, gesturing in the direction he’d gone. 

“I better go smooth things over.” He mumbled.

As he darted off in search of Thorin I became aware of the feeling of a heavy hand on top of mine. I looked down and realized that Kili still had his hand over mine, which was still resting on his knee. He seemed to notice it at the same time I did. He removed it quickly and cleared his throat. 

“I still have a few hours on watch. You should get some sleep.” He said, his gaze focused intently on his lap. 

I nodded as I began to unfurl the bedroll I’d been given. I didn’t want to stray too far from the group, and the nook we’d settled into felt safe and warm. 

“Are you sleeping here?” He asked.

I had just begun to slink down in between the blankets. I paused as I looked up at him. His expression was unreadable. Perhaps he’d wanted some space. I quickly realized I might have overstepped in assuming he’d not mind me sleeping between him and Fili.

“I was going to. But I can move if-”

“No.” He said quickly. “No, it’s alright.”

As I laid down and pulled the blankets up as high as I could around my shoulders, I heard him mumble something I was sure he didn’t realize I could hear as I drifted off to sleep.

“I’ll keep you safe from the orcs, my lady.”

Entire story so far here! I appreciate the positive feedback I've received so far, thank you for reading! :)

[quibbs126]

Ik you've been made a headcanon about Dark Choco Cookie and Peach Cookie. Somewhere in the Cookie Run comic, Dark Choco Cookie actually falls in love with Peach Cookie. So, what if there's a fanchild of them? Do you mind making their fan child? If not it's fine ^^

So like I’ve alluded to in my other posts today, my headcanon for Peach and Dark Choco were VERY different and probably not so viable here, but let’s say this is just the comic universe or something, and here’s Dark Plum Cookie

Honestly after reading some of the comics, I’ve come around to this ship quite a bit. But unfortunately it contradicts my old headcanons for them (okay I should probably actually explain what those headcanons were. Basically at some point someone made a thing saying that General Jujube could be Dark Choco’s other parent, and it basically made me spiral into a rabbit hole. And since I know Jujube is at least implied to be Peach’s father, that’d make the two of them half siblings, so Dark Choco was basically like Peach’s older brother. Also that Peach was a teenager), and it’s hard to really start shipping them without dealing with my old headcanons, as it’d make it look far worse than it is, and of which I do not endorse. But I like this new ship too, so I’m just debating making my old headcanons into like, an au or something where Jujube is Dark Choco’s second parent, although I kind of already do that, since my real headcanon is that Dark Choco only has one parent. But maybe having both of those coexisting is a bad look…All right, maybe I can just scrap the first headcanons, like I did with Dark Cacao and the North and South Dragons. And also make Peach older, since I know I’m just bad at guessing ages (for example, I thought Rayla from Dragon Prince was in her early 20s when she was 15). She’s probably in her early 20s

Anyways, sorry for the weird tangent, let’s get onto the actual fankid, yeah?

So I chose the name Dark Plum because I wanted a fruit similar to peaches, but dark in color. The only one I could find was plums. Unfortunately, there is already a Plum Cookie, so I added the “Dark” to indicate I was basing him off the darker and more purple ones. I mainly based him off the black splendor plum, which has this red flesh on the inside

Black splendor plum:

So for his design, I wanted to go with a dark purple to be some sort of middle ground between the black and peach colors, and after seeing some dark plums with red flesh, I made his secondary color red. I think I was originally going to give him purple eyes like his grandfather, but I ended up making them red so they’d stand out more. I kind of ended up using Plum Cookie as a reference for his hair, since they’re both made of the same thing. I was going to put the red on the same places as Plum’s yellow, but I thought it looked better on the ends. I’m not entirely sure what it looks like not flowing. I wasn’t really sure what to do for his outfit, or his weapon for that matter. Originally I was debating giving him a sword or a staff, since I wasn’t sure which parent to lean more towards. I was debating a spear but I didn’t really want to since I’ve already made 3 of these with spears. I mean I still kind of ended up doing that, but it’s double sided so it’s fine. It’s supposed to be more staff like. With his outfit I sort of just ended up using the Dark Cacao Kingdom for references like normal. I had asked my friend for advice on his outfit and she had a suggestion, she just didn’t know how to translate it into English, so I just stuck with this. She said it looked good

Anyways, on to him himself. …I am just now realizing I spent so much time on his design I neglected his personality and character. Well what I do have is that unlike what the image may convey, he’s not a super serious warrior, he’s just in the middle of a fight. I mean yes, he takes fighting seriously, but he can be a bit prideful and confident in his fighting abilities and think he’s cool. He is a good fighter but he sometimes lets it get to his head. Also he tends to be a bit chaotic

I like to imagine Plum being like his godfather or babysitter or something, just so that we can have Plum and Dark Plum regularly interacting. I feel like if time travel shenanigans were to happen, Plum and Dark Plum would meet, and Plum would think he’s like his evil/shadow alternate universe self, only for him to instead be Peach’s son, along with Dark Choco. I feel like something like this could happen in the comics, they are a little insane

But uh, yeah, I think that’s all I have on him, I hope you like him!

[carlos-in-glasses]

CIG my emojis are a little cooked because I'm an Android girlie BUT, I screenshot 4 below for you (if that's too many, don't feel as if you have to answer them all):

also please feel free to interpret the eggplant one as your favourite nsfw fic instead of the most popular if you wish!

💜💜💜💜

Thank you! 🥰

Sometimes I do drink and write, yes. Tbh, I typically have a great time writing while wine-drunk – and end up really liking what I’ve written. In a way, that worries me! I mean, who do I think I am? Bloody Charles Baudelaire? So I’m careful not to do it too often.

Spicy stuffs! Yes I do and I’m all for it. My personal fave is When Soulmates Swim. It’s set around season one so TK and Carlos are just getting to know each other, and I wanted to emphasise that their sexual connection is blowing their minds. While they’re doing it they’re like why is this so good??? What’s happening??? Why am I leaving the planet??? It was really fun to write them having great sex that was also clumsy and silly.

The WIP Flashback Fic started life as something very different. Gabriel being alive after season 4 was vital for the plot to work. I could have kept it going as an AU, but my heart just wasn’t in it. I scrapped about 20k and made lots of changes. I think Flashback Fic is my favourite thing I’ve written (and I can’t wait to share!), and it wouldn’t have been written without Gabriel dying…but I’ll always be sad that the show killed him off like they did anyway. Naughty show! (I love you 911LS come back!!!)

Lots of IRL people know I write fanfic! I’ve told: My mum: Hilariously supportive. I told her the show involves ‘a hot cop’ and she asked, “Do other people think the cop is hot as well?” and I said “Yes we are all in agreement about that.” She was pleased. My brother: A literary snob; a writer too. He was hilariously unsupportive at first, but then came around to the idea. The majority of my friends and my work team: All of them want me to link them to my Ao3 account, but I never ever will. Two lawyers at work who I happened to have a meeting with about half an hour after I found out I’d been plagiarised: I literally ended up taking legal advice. They were also very supportive while simultaneously bewildered. The deputy director of my work department because one of the lawyers got drunk and told her: Dep. Director said “well – your mistake was being so talented.” So, what I’ve learned is that people are actually very cool about it - or have been so far, anyway.

[send-me-a-puffalope]

NAT MY BRAIN IS HUGE… yk how people would make those aus where Michael was in SB with Gregory and they became The Father And Son Duo ™️ right. And obviously it’s post scoop Michael and it’s usually like “oh I failed my brother so now I’ll save this kid” right. SO I WAS THINKING. Papillomatosis happens. Vanessa is depressed cuz y’know. And while searching for William Afton cuz He Is Back ™️ she runs into Gregory. And Gregory has to stick with her cuz they’re in Pizza Sim or smth idk dawg I didn’t write the lore. ANYWAYS. The become The Sibling Duo and Vanessa burns in the fire but Gregory lives on for her. I’m literally a genius. I am cooking.

OH OH OH NO YOU’RE COOKING— Vanessa escapes the House™️, eventually takes up the role at Fazbear Frights and burns it down cause Springtrap was found, only to realize that he didn’t actually perish (maybe there’s been local murders and elderly reports— I mean cryptid/large animal reports) and decides to Pizza Sim it to tie up all loose ends instead of hunting them down one by one. On the final day, Gregory manages to sneak in past closing hours and Vanessa realizes and spends the night trying to help him escape (while Scraptrap, Scrap Baby, Molten Freddy, and Lefty are in the building and actively hunting him). And maybe the climax is Vanessa sacrificing herself to distract the animatronics so Gregory can escape.

I always wondered why Michael didn’t just burn the whole place down as soon as he them all in one place. Like why tf did you have to survive through the last night at all?? Was plumbing the toilet that important if you were just planning on burning the whole place down??? Though, ig it was more of Henry’s plan than Michael’s (tho in this AU, it’d be Vanessa)

[arionawrites]

arionawrites updated writeblr intro

who the hell am i?

my name is ariona! i also go by ari (common nickname), rio (occasional nickname), and whatever the hell else people wanna call me (within reason). fun fact, my childhood nickname was bird because when i started talking i apparently sounded like a parrot (:

i’m in my mid-twenties (23 as of posting this; turning 24 in march!) and i have been writing since i was in the second grade, or about 7-8 years old. i’ve wanted to be a published author since the fourth grade (10 years old). i have yet to achieve that “published” thing, but i’m working towards it every day and am hoping to have something published somewhere by the time i’m 25 (or while i’m 25, i’m not too picky lol)

i’m a chronically ill lesbian who tries to include type one diabetic characters in everything i write and almost exclusively write queer characters.

i currently work in before and after school childcare, though i am in the process of finding a new job that provides me better stability as well as the time to be able to focus on my writing more. my hope is some kind of office job, or, even better, something in a library!

what kind of things do i write?

it honestly depends on the vibes, man. i’m happy to write (almost) every genre so long as i have a story idea that fits it that i want to write. however, i do have some common things that i tend to write more often than the rest, such as:

queer romance (usually the romance part is not the primary focus, though i do have a sapphic romance novel in the works)

modern fantasy

coming of age

found family

complex and complicated family dynamics

i also have a tendency to post weird little ramble-y thought pieces in random points in time (would it count as poetry? i honestly don’t know). if you’re interested to seeing any of it, my writing tag is #ariwrites !! i’ll add the tag to this post as well for convenience sake!

what projects do i currently have?

so, here’s the thing: i struggle with completing things and tend to have a bunch of new ideas and kind of leave old ideas in the dust. because of this, i’ve decided to take almost all of my current projects and scrap them? actually, scrap isn’t the right word - i’m starting from scratch with a majority of them! i think there are some ideas that i can actually combine into one story rather than them being separate, and a lot of it is just a kind of conglomerated mess that i am in the process of detangling in order to move forward in a more coherent and structured way. however, i do have two projects that i am not starting from complete scratch. i am remaking the outlines for these two stories, though, and then rewriting them from the beginning!

here are those two projects:

rotten

a zombie apocalypse scenario that i originally started writing as a nanowrimo project in 2022 that i did not complete. matter of fact, i only got a couple of chapters in before the spark fizzled out. however, i love the characters i have created and the bones of the story i had in mind, which is why i am choosing to restructure the outline and try again. it will likely change quite a bit as i remake the outline and iron out the details in new ways, but the basic breakdown of the story is this: it’s three years into an apocalypse that has left a mere remnant of humanity in its wake. we have a cast of four main characters (maybe six, depending on how you look at it). one is an older brother taking care of his siblings, both of whom have yet to reach double digits in age. one is a grumpy pessimist who thinks it’s pointless building bonds when everyone else she knew before is almost definitely dead and anyone else she meets will end up dead, too. one is a former optimist who has been weighed down by the realism the apocalypse has forced upon him, who hates being alone (being lonely) but has been betrayed by every single person he has come across since the fight to survive began, and he doesn’t really know what to do about that anymore. one was raised privileged and pampered by a paranoid and eccentric millionaire who was also absolutely certain that doomsday was inevitable (hey, turns out he was right!) and therefore raised his daughter teaching her every survival skill he could and preparing her for the worst, so she is, realistically, the best person to have on your side in an apocalypse—and yet she has been alone the entirety of the three years. all of them are queer and all of them will have to learn that they can rely on one another after stumbling into each other’s lives. also, despite only one of them being the older brother of those kids, the other three will eventually come to an agreement that they would burn the rest of what’s left of the world if it meant keeping them warm, so that’s cool, i guess.

hot chocolate

this is the sapphic romance novel i mentioned above! started writing it on a whim with literally zero plan for it last year, made it my camp nano project, and somehow managed to hit 30k words before the lack of preparation caught up with me. the title is a working title and might change upon the rewrite, but i absolutely adore this story so far and am very excited to get an outline busted out so that i can get back to writing it. the breakdown is this: mallory james moves in with her big brother when she’s eighteen. it’s the summer after her graduation and every single plan that she had for her future has been rendered pointless and now she’s trying to find her footing in a life that is completely different from the one she had been living only a few months ago. her brother, eddie, is going to do his best to be there for her and help her heal, but mallory doesn’t want to heal. she doesn’t even want to acknowledge that there’s anything she needs to heal from. unsure of what to do next, she enrolls in the local community college and meets a few people who somehow manage to become her kinda sorta friends — ellie, ash, and bee. featuring sapphic love, healing from loss and family trauma, finding stability and reason in an unexpected place, and a side character who is definitely polyamorous but entirely unaware that that’s a thing he’s able to be.

alright, i think that’s all i want to put here! i’ll definitely edit this with updates as information changes and as old projects become new again and things like that, but it’s a new year (the fact that i’m posting this in february is absolutely not important at all) and i’m trying to make ‘24 something worthwhile. if you’ve read this far, thank you so much and i hope everyone is having an incredible day/night !!

[spottyissleepwalking]

MapleRaven au is one made by me and @x-critter2022 ! They thought of the idea and we spent a while fleshing it out but then I lost my acc and most of the details so it was semi scrapped

The basis is that instead Mapleshade and Ravenwing are together and have their kits but to keep his secret (and bc he has a complex) he faked the sign from Starclan and exposed her but said the kits were Appledusk’s who TC hated in canon bc of Birch and Flowerpaw’s deaths. Maple is furious for good reason and grabs Nettlepaw who is Raven’s apprentice and says that he has to come with their kits or she’ll kill him. Make it a little angsty with the river flooding and the crazy storm when Raven shows up with their kits. The two fight and Maple says out loud that he’s their dad, so now the kits and Nettlepaw know. Raven gets angry and leaps at her but Petalkit gets tripped by his paw and falls into the river. Maple screeches and leaps into the river after her daughter, both drowning.

Ravenwing looks at the river with horror and Nettlepaw tries to save poor Petalkit but she’s quickly whisked underwater. Scared for the remaining kits health Raven leaves the river with Patch and Larch. When they all get back Nettlepaw reveals it to Oakstar who is RAGING. He’s about to banish the Tom but if he did they wouldn’t have a fully trained healer. Now Raven is allowed in camp but kept from his kits, and only there until Nettle is ready to be named. He tries to push back his ceremony but Nettle tells him to cut that shit. Pressured and in anger he runs, racing across the river to Riverclan where he ends up ambushing Appledusk. He kills him but Reedshine was there and she’s horrified, her noise calling another patrol. He’s brought back to Oakstar who executes him.

Nettle is fully trained and names himself Nettlepetal after the kit he couldn’t save. I like to think he was actually really cute with the litter before everything happened like a older brother type who’d bring them pretty plants. Patchpaw stays in TC for a bit but can’t handle the constant reminders of his parents and the whispers all the time so he moves to RC where Reedshine pretty much adopts him. He remembers what a impact Nettle was to him and his siblings so he takes a simailr role to her kits! He also renames himself Koishine when he’s a warrior to distance himself from his trauma and past but also after his momma! When he leaves tho it hurts Larchpaw a lot. He’s pretty much completely alone and a really quiet, distant apprentice. He’s named Larchfrost for his nature but warms when he finds a little kit he names Daisykit (semi after petal as welll!). This is the same Daisy as Goose and Moon’s mom!

After both their parents death they each haunt their kids lineage. Seeing their kids move past and try to erase their relation to their parents makes both Maple and Raven angry who choose to haunt them bc their horrible parents. Maple haunts Koishine, going after Crookedkit who is the closest lineage as his adopted younger brother while Raven haunts Goosekit. Another note is that later in life Nettlepetal and Larchfrost started a garden to honor all the kits who died unfairly, a wildflower patch to remember the little lives lost too young. It’s a family thing and that’s the reason Frostfur (who is a goosefeather kit as always) stays behind to care for it when the cats leave in TNP! Very long au but I love it a lot and I’m so happy with how it is!

Oh. Ohhhhhhhh.

Obsessed

[polyamorouspunk]

Yooooooooooooooo Good Morning!

i actually woke up feeling better than I have been so my plan is to try to be just a little bit productive. Maybe wash some clothes. Maybe clean up my room. The possibilities are endless!

Also! Last night was my niece’s birthday and I gave her present to her! I got her and I tickets to go see the offspring, sum 41, and simple plan in september! She was so excited that she dive bombed me and almost broke my glasses!! I think I won the birthday this year lol

Oh wow! Amazing! What a line up!

I met some cool people at the concert last night including a guy and his girlfriend who had been a fan of them since they were Chicago locals (he was next to me so I talked to him more than her but she kind of nodded and listened) and a woman who said she was going to let her wife know she was getting out of line with me. I’m not good at starting conversations at concerts really but it seems people always end up talking to me, or I chime in eventually. I hope you both have fun.

I know this was sent like yesterday I think and then I talked to you today. I said I was reading and then going to bed but right as I put my book down everything hit me again and I started getting freaked out again so I figured I’d answer your ask.

My mom put my table back up in my craft room, so I can start working on physical stuff again. Right now I’m working on a series of hand-drawn pride pins. The first one I did was asexual and the design was recycled from the pin I made my cousin for her bag (which I posted on here and sent to you) and it feels very cottagecorey but I made a bisexual one of just flowers and while I’m really happy with the design I feel like it misses the mark of the vibe I’m going for. As a consumer I’m more drawn to greenery and mushrooms vs flowers, but I spent so much time on it I’d hate to scrap it. I’m hoping I can make other ones that really capture that cottagecore feel more, but it’s very hard since I’m trying to focus on realistic things that include those colors in my pride flags. I’m hoping to do some poison dart frogs with the lesbian flag or the rainbow flag maybe, since frogs are cottagecore. But yeah.

I want to start working on my patch pants in case I end up going to SSC. I know I told you originally I was and then I wasn’t going to which I haven’t like announced anywhere because even then I was still thinking “fuck it maybe I’ll just fucking fly up and go” BUT my best friend is trying to plan her wedding reception that week so we can still go BUT I called it off because our other best friend’s brother’s wedding got moved to that weekend and her family is very over-the-top so it’s going to be a all-weekend thing at LEAST and while I’m fine with having her reception on a weekday because I gotta take time off to go up there anyway I know I’m not the only guest. I’d *like* to think I’m the closest thing to a Bride’s Maid of Honor, you know, which was the dream back when I thought we were all cishet but mildly weird, before we were both like “fuck church weddings” and also before she was like “I’m going to get legally married for the tax benefits and shit” so like you know back when I dreamed of being her brides maid of honor. I am racking my brains trying to come up with a good present for her (my literal best friend since I was 5) and I have a few ideas but they’re going to take research and effort. You know I can’t just buy her a post card or like the keychain I got her when we went to pride for her literal wedding present.

Anyway that’s what’s up here I think I’m going to go eat and take my meds and do the self care you told me to do and hopefully by then I won’t feel so jittery.

[atjsgf]

📓

UNTITLED WARDLEX FIC (It actually did have a title, I just don't remember what it was.)

This was ages and ages ago. So before my OC, Alex, was Natasha’s sister, I actually had originally written her as Nat’s daughter. Later down the line I wanted to incorporate Natasha’s canon infertility, so I had Alex as a clone, and then a genomorph (a thing that I’m sure exists in Marvel under a different name, but part of my brain is still DC by default) of Natasha and Steve. In the mission where they found Alex, Steve died, and Natasha was raised as Natasha and Clint Barton’s kid. Except that Nat and Clint weren’t together, they just picked him for his (comics) resemblance to Steve. So she grew up thinking Nat and Clint were her biological parents and that Matt and Laura were her stepfather and stepmother respectively (this was when I was in my Mattasha era.)

So fast forward 19 years, bring Coulson’s team in then instead of right after the Avengers, and let SHIELD fall like it did in canon. And then Natasha goes missing. 

Alex has a strained relationship with her parents at this point, mostly due to them not knowing how to handle her mental health issues years prior. This had led to her going on an intergalactic crime spree with Loki, who had ultimately died to save her which resulted in her getting caught. (This was the origin of Loki/Alex, which is my main Alex ship to this day.) She’s been in prison ever since, but she breaks out to find her mom, and learns from the SHIELD file dump about her biological origins. 

First thing she does is break Grant Ward out of SHIELD prison, and the first chapter was supposed to end with this exchange. 

“I’m told you’re SHIELD best spy since Romanoff.”

“Something like that.”

“Good. Because this time, Agent Ward, you’re going to have to be better.” 

From there it would be a roadtrip/missionfic where they’re both on the run and trying to find Natasha. (I don’t remember why Ward agreed to help her.)

Early on in this idea I had this thought that Ward was going to be another genomorph (I think from Bucky and Nat’s DNA) and therefore Alex’s brother, based on a buck wild theory about Ward I saw during s1 that definitely comes exclusively from a “fuck it we ball” sentiment and Brett Dalton sharing, if not a true resemblance, then dark hair and sharp features with Sebastian Stan. Anyways he and Alex were gonna have this pseudo-incestuous relationship where Ward doesn’t know how to have healthy relationships with people. Later I scrapped that and shipped them together in a more straightforward way. 

It’s pretty unhinged and I’m probably never going to write it (not because of the unhingedness, I’m just not vibing as much with it, I’d rather be doing other things with the characters) but a lot of smaller details of this fic live on in my writing today. Lolex, like I said, for one. Alex always has this weird rivalry/mutual disdain with Coulson in my fics and I came up with that here. A lot of my understanding of like, where I would’ve wanted Ward’s character to go post-s1 and how deeply I think his past impacts him comes from the characterization I worked with here. 

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 219

The Hunter Games

Shhh, yes. I’m pushing the next Doctor Who episode back another day. It’s my nostalgia tour and I can do what I want. That said, I’ve been down a gaylor rabbit hole for the past few days and have a hard time separating myself from the endless dissections of her lyrics and *gestures frantically and widely* the everything going on, so it’s just supernatural today.

“The Hunter Games”

Plot Description: Desperate to find a cure for the Mark of Cain, Castiel comes up with a plan

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: doesn’t seem like anyone’s gonna die, except Crowley in his anxiety dreams

Crowley, if you won’t call Rowena Mommy, I will

She’s awful and I love her. She planted some kind of hex bag to CAUSE that nightmare?

Ah, I see we’re back to Dean’s anxiety dreams turned reality

Omg Claire’s still with them?? Really??? Like, she’s not in this episode (so far) but it sounds like it…or is Cas visiting her wherever she is now?

She’s so funny and unserious, she sent her eight year old son to a workhouse after abandoning him and her defense is that she won’t apologize for being a career woman. Honestly, she’s like if 1959 Maleficent ever tried seeming just a tad softer

Yeah. Castiel, you’re done coming up with plans. If that’s who I think it is (Metatron) under that sack…BABE. PLEASE.

I hate being right all the time

They brought him to their dungeonnnnnn. Feels like this won’t work out the way they plan

I HATE Metatron but his enjoyment piecing together what’s happening to Dean is in itself enjoyable

Omg, Dean’s slow, dramatic walk into the dungeon after Sam tells Metatron that he doesn’t care what happens to him because he killed his brother. HOOOOOOOO BOYYYY

Ok, she’s not in the bunker. Castiel somehow rented some kind of hotel room for her. Poor Claire. She really is down on her luck and heartbroken

I don’t like how they need the First Blade to cure Dean

Rowena and Crowley are so fucking salty to each other. It’s delightful. Now, what are you going to do with a scrap of Crowley’s tie??

I don’t trust THESE TWO CLAIRE’S HANGING OUT WITH NOWWWWW. And it looks like I’m right not to

What IS Rowena’s aim?? Like, obviously something to do with getting rid of her son once and for all but for what purpose?

Castiel…I don’t think “ask Crowley to go get the First Blade” is the kind of plan that should be criticized by the guy whose plan was “get Metatron out of heaven’s prison”

OR THE GUY WHO THINKS “DEAN SHOULD REACH OUT TO CLAIRE” IS REASONABLE. Cas, babes, I love you but like…what?

And yet I can’t stay mad because “I’ll text you her number. I like texting…emoticons…” he’s so precious

DOES ROWENA WANT TO RULE HELL HERSELF?? I’d love that for her

The actress playing Rowena? Good. Rowena as an actress? Completely unconvincing. AND YET CROWLEY SEEMS TO BE FALLING FOR IT. SEEMS because I’m not fully convinced he is

Dean threatening Metatron should not be this hottttt

ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? THE FIRST THING HE NAMES IN HIS LIST OF REASONS TO BE PISSED OFF AT METATRON WAS STEALING CAS’S GRACE?!?!?! Sure, it was also the first chronologically, but…..COME ON

Cas just subtly taking care of Sam. Just resting his hand on Sam’s shoulder and telling him it’s late. It’s cute. It’s nice

I hate the setback that getting the First Blade was a waste of time for now.

Does “the river ends at the source” mean that Cain has to do something? Does he have to actually die for Dean to get rid of it? Does he need to kill Cain with the First Blade?

Omg the dude Claire’s hanging out with looks familiar not because I’ve seen him somewhere else…I’ve already seen him ON THIS SHOW, PLAYING A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT CHARACTER

I hate that that one severely messed up human did not want to talk to the other severely messed up human…imagine

[luveline]

you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina,  to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

-

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

-

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

[bloodycassian]

COLD NIGHTS - Cassian x Azriel x Reader - Prompt: 

hi i love your work so much!!! I was thinking a cassian x azriel x reader (i just love them sm, why have one when you can have two ) where the reader is sister of a high lord maybe day or winter court, and reader goes missing (kinda angsty) and her brother (a high lord) panics and goes to the night court for help (bc if her two bat boys can’t find her who will)  and az and cassian go full on panic mode and search for the reader, i was also thinking a fluffy cute ending where reader is just cuddling with azriel and cassian while her wounds heal take as much time as you need to write this, don’t pressure yourself. Take care lovely

Kallis would never forget the screams. The terror and panic that rushed through him when he realised that you were gone.  He sent half the city to search for you. He called upon Helion to inspect the magic. He was frantic in finding you. But it was like you had just disappeared out of nowhere. No sign of struggle, not a drop of blood spilled. The offender was sloppy in their ways, but their magic was strong. Helion could sense it.  They had a deathwish from Kallis himself if he ever found them. +  The first thing you saw were your cracked and bloody hands. They were split open from the dry cold wind. Sea air drifted into the cave. The cold brutal howling outside mixed with the roar of waves breaking confirmed your nightmares. Cape Tragedy. 

The islands off the coast of winter were known for their unforgiving nature to ships. Hence their name, Cape Tragedy. Also known as the Tragic coast, no stories were ever heard of any survivors of those crashes. If they had managed to survive the churning water, then the false salvation of the islands would kill them. It happened often enough that there were lighthouses set atop many of the bigger islands for ships to avoid on stormy days.

You coughed from the dry air, earning a pair of yellow eyes to dart to you. One of the three lesser fae males noticed you were awake and clapped. "She wakes! We've been waiting for you, sweetheart." His green skin was pale in the overcast light streaming in from the mouth of the cave. Snow Bear pelts lay all around. A disgrace in your culture. No citizen of Winter court would do such a thing. You looked to the walls to find weapons, and strange markings along the stone. Sailors from far away lands. 

Not even sailors. Pirates. A chill ran through you.  

"We're going to get your weight in gold, pretty one." The scaled male curled a piece of your hair behind you ear. Your stomach turned, and you tried to scoot away. "My brother will kill you first. And he'll take a long time doing it." You promised, trying to make your voice sound strong. Terror had you by it's grip though, and it was hard to do anything other than panic

. "Your brother? The pretty one that shears the Elk?" The green one asked. You laughed, and then were hissing in pain when the scaled male yanked on your hair. "What's so funny?" 

"You think my brother is an elk herder?" You spat "You must be dumber than you look." The males glanced between each other, then to the one who hadn't said anything yet.

"Who ye think you are then?" The male holding your hair stammered, trying to keep his panic under wraps. 

"Kallis' sister." You said with deadly calm. "And the high lord does not negotiate." 

"If you're so noble why you got such a mouth on ye?" The third male finally spoke.

They laughed.

"Maybe we will see just how much of a mouth-" He started again. He didnt have a chance to finish his disgusting words. You kicked, bending an ice spear straight up from the rocky ice floor and through the third male's body. Then the beating from the other two came. 

They bound your wrists and ankles in rope and tar. Their hands shook when they did it. It gave you a small bit of satisfaction. The potion they gave you to knock you out was just barely strong enough. You fought it as best you could, but it won. You could only hear the faint sounds of arguing then a crash of glass, then the cold winds whipping around you. And when you woke, your body ached.  The cold bit into your limbs. Your fingers were pale. Far too pale to be healthy. You knew frostbite when you saw it. Your body refused to move under your own power. Your blood was frozen to the icy ground. They had used a potion and transported you to a peninsula, and you could only faintly hear the ocean below. You could feel the potion wearing off, but you knew you weren't healing. Not yet. You reached down into your own mind, picking up the fading tendrils of power. Of your bond to the two you knew could save you. And you pulled as hard as you could manage.  --- "Fuck." The roaring thought shook Cassian awake. Bleary eyed, he glanced about the room as if there was someone actually shouting at him.  Then he felt it. The weak tug that had been silent for so long. And he knew it was nothing good. Frenzied, he met Azriel at the dining area. Where they spent the rest of the night planning, deducing a probable reason for you to be calling so weakly. They sent their worries to Rhys, but they were shooed away. "I'm researching. Meet me in the library at dawn." The two males tried to comfort each other. But the worry pulsating through the bond was too much to focus on. So they waited. Kallis appeared that morning. He spat his story and begged for help, practically in tears as he spoke to the three Illyrians. Cassian and Az knew something was wrong the moment you were attacked. Court laws forbade them interfering on Winter Court territory though.  As soon as the approval was given, the brothers winnowed to the border of Winter and started flying. + You were coming to terms that you would die in the cold. You had imagined death differently. Battle was the primary way you thought you'd die. Or at the end of a High Lord's magic for being too much of an advisor. Smiling at the memory of putting Tamlin in his place, you gave another tug down the bonds to your mates. And like a snap, they both tugged back. Almost in unison. It was hard to tell. You closed your eyes, listening to the soft waves below. They lulled you into a cold sleep yet again.  + Despite the cold, the Illyrians flew as fast as they could. They could sense your light fading, and chased it for mile after mile. Their wings cut through the harsh winter winds, fueled by rage and desperation. Then they spotted the dark figure frozen to the snow below. Cassian landed first, a few feet away. The ice cracked beneath him. "Get us out of here." He growled to Azriel.  "We need to make sure she's okay before we move."  Cassian growled, but didn't protest. Azriel understood. He felt the anguish and frustration through the shared bond. Az's hands pressed gently to your neck, checking your pulse. He swore. "Baby, we need you to wake up for us. We're here. We got you." Cassian put a hand to your cheek and fought back the tears that threatened.  You groaned in response. They both sighed in relief, their breath making clouds in front of them. "I'm stuck..." You managed through your stiff jaw.  Cassian stroked a thumb over your cheek. "Stuck? Honey you're-"  "Cas..." Azriel nodded to your side, to the ice that crept its way up your damp clothes. Azriel could have taken a very very long time torturing the beasts that did this to his mate. The rage coiled in his gut at the sight of your injuries. The only reason you hadn't bled out was the blood and water mix turning your wounds to ice.  Cassian pulled at the ice web that encapsulated you. Under the heat of his rage it broke, and broke and broke. Azriel placed small patches of his shield over your frostbitten fingers. "We're gonna get you out of here. Just stay still." Azriel smoothed back your hair, and darkness swirled over you. The change from the harsh overcast light of Winter court to the soft sun of Night court was jarring.  Madja put her hands on you and you were asleep in an instant. Her warm hands were a blessing from the Mother.  +  "She's lucky she has that Winter blood in her or she'd be dead." Madja wiped her hands off and handed both the Illyrians a small vial. "That is the scrap from a poisoned sword that broke off in her shoulder. I got all the pieces out, but the poison lingers. It may heal slowly, but it should get better."  Anguish burned both of their stomachs. Azriel's throat tightened and he looked away, but gripped the vial tightly. Cassian stared at it, his eyes murderous. Madja left without another word. "She was almost killed. And we couldn't do anything." Cassians' voice was low, with violence dripping from it. "We need her here. In Velaris where we can... watch her." He didn't know what he was saying, but the instinct to protect was overriding every other logical thought he had. Anger burned and burned in his stomach, swallowing him with rage. He could feel Az mirroring the same feeling, but with a cold deadliness that begged to simmer out of him.  "You know she wont go for that. She loves her home too much. Her brother." Azriel whispered back. "We're her mates. She should be with us." Cassian was looking for a fight. All the tension and anger of the day had to be worked out. Azriel felt it too. His shadows ran anxiously through the room.

The wind outside howled. It shifted the dark clouds that covered the moon. It seemed to be a cold day in all of Prythian. A cold day in your mates hearts to the pirates that had taken you. They spoke their rage mind to mind, imagining the ways to torture the bastards. 

How to find them would be the first priority. Azriel kept circling back to that part. + The healer cleared his throat at the door. "She's asking for you." He nodded to Rhys' brothers. They left Rhys behind in unison, walking in perfect step with each other. Their minds hummed together over that bond they shared with you. "Protect protect protect." They both seemed to demand.  Azriel knocked softly, his heart flipping when he heard your voice again. "Get in here." You demanded, giving them a broad smile when they practically shoved each other out of the way. 

"Come keep me warm." You weakly folded the blanket back, exposing some of the bruising on your skin. 

They complied with enthusiasm. Azriel's hands were cold at first, but they got better when he reached around you to hold Cassian closer. They worked in tandem to keep you covered, making sure that you weren't too crowded or too warm. Azriel summoned his cool shadows when you got too warm and had to kick the blankets off. Cassian's warm breath would keep you warm when they became too much. You traced Azriel's cheekbones, the sharp edge of his jaw while falling alseep. Cassian's muscled forearms hugging you from behind were like a heavy pillow. 

"Rest now, we can have more fun later." Az winked, making your stomach flutter. Cassian groaned and pulled you further to his lap. You tried not to think of the hardness that pressed to you now.  "Goodnight." The shadowsinger kissed your forehead and like a light, you were out. Finally resting peacefully wrapped between your two mates and their warm bond you all shared. 

[whetstonefires]

@misskirby keeping me submerged in a stream of Star Wars even when not on tumblr now, new AU:

-

Leia, whose current ident-chips read Lee Nabidaler and Aloo Kitster depending on if she was trying to pass for sixteen to get better pay for odd jobs around the latest station, or admit to a mere fourteen standard and get the lower data rates on education modules and edutainment shows at the licensed library outlets, put her toolbox down on the table in their little berth on the Dolorana Mystica, the heavy freighter that had needed a mechanic just when their last ship had to be scrapped for parts.

“Dad. We need to talk.”

Her father looked up from the leg in his lap that he’d been toying with. It was one of his, even though he had two on—he was always trying out upgrades, but knew better than to leave himself unable to run, so as little as they often owned they usually had a spare prosthetic or two among their gear, unless they’d just had to start from scratch again.

Leia had almost gotten them caught because of that, when she was six. It was one of her first really clear memories. She hadn’t realized that most fathers didn’t have detachable limbs, let alone that most people with prosthetics didn’t work on them themselves, and she’d talked about it to another couple of children on a play-structure in one of the shopping plazas in the mountain-towers of Birsili 11, and their parents had overheard, and somehow that inconclusive identifying information had made it all the way to—to whoever was hunting them.

“I know I promised to stop asking,” she said, and she’d promised that at ten, after her Dad came home with a blaster bolt to the chest. “But I’m older now. I want to know what’s going on.”

Her dad sighed, and rubbed at the scar over his right eye—a nervous tic he only indulged in private, since he kept that eye hidden under goggles or hair or an eyepatch or a hood whenever they went out. “Please be patient, Leia. Just a little longer.”

“I’m tired of being patient!” She laid her hands flat on the table; Dad always withdrew when she got too angry, so she couldn’t afford to stomp or wave her hands. That was childish, anyway. “Who are we running from? Is it because of me? Are we going to have to run forever? Are you even my real father? What happened to my mom?”

Her dad was goggling at her by the end of this, and then the tool he’d forgotten inside the leg hit a live wire and sparked, biting his hand. Jerking it free wasn’t enough to distract him, and he dropped the tool unseeing to the floor, not even cursing at the pain. “Is that what you’ve been thinking?” he asked. “Leia, sweet—alright. You’re right. Fourteen is old enough. Your mother saved a world at fourteen, after all.”

“She did what?”

“I am your father.” Dad stared at her intensely until she looked back and met his eyes, so he could impress on her, “I swear to you I am. I know you don’t remember your mother very well, and I should have told you more about her, but…”

“But you didn’t trust me to keep my mouth shut,” Leia said heavily. Of course her childhood indiscretions had meant she couldn’t be told identifying information like the story of saving a planet at just fourteen years old.

“A little, but mostly I just…it hurt too much to think of her. It was selfish, and I’m sorry.”

Leia heaved a breath in, let it out. She was getting what she’d asked for. She dragged her stool out and sat down. “What did happen to her?”

“I’m not…entirely sure.” Dad looked wretched when he said that, but not actually evasive. “I’ll tell you what I do know. First of all: you have a brother.”

“I do?” Dad wasn’t that old, even if she used to think he was ancient. Her brother couldn’t be old enough to have done anything to Mom.

“Yes. A twin.” Her father’s voice broke on the word, and he had to swallow several times to go on. His head was hanging so she could barely see his face behind the wiggles of his hair. “When you were two, we lost him in a raid. He was kidnapped. We were—nearly sure he wasn’t dead, but no matter what we did we couldn’t find what had become of him. Those were bad days. I know you don’t remember.”

“I…think I do,” Leia whispered. Memories like dreams, even softer than those of her mother—a paler self looking back at her, smiling. “Was he—did he have blond hair?”

“Yes! Yes, he did.” There was something almost glad brimming on Dad’s face, a fierce light in his eyes. “That’s him. That’s Luke.”

“Luke,” Leia echoed. Breathed in, breathed out. Another thing she hadn’t known to miss for too long, like a stable place to live or getting to go to school with other children. “But what happened to Mom?”

“When you were four, we got our first real lead. We knew where he was, but we had to move fast. I couldn’t come, I’d just lost the second leg chasing a shadow to nowhere and the stump wouldn’t tolerate a prosthetic yet. Padme made me promise not to take stupid risks, to stay with you and keep you safe no matter what. And she took her best people, and…” Grief twisted his often-sorrowful face into something beyond recognition.

“It was a trap,” murmured Leia.

“I don’t know. But none of them came back.”

[backandimbamon]

Bonnie playing with Damon's hair and he all sleepy 😊

this really took a while because… i was going to stop at the first half but i wanted to consider Bonnie’s perspective (: and then it got a lil spicy and i was like *sigh* why must you always take it there? but i mean- 👁- i always take it there because we were robbed!!! Damon is practically a self proclaimed sex god and i hate how they separated Bonnie from her sexuality, or really any form of intimacy for sooo long. and the scraps we got were NEVER enough. okay anyways yeah i’m finally done, like let’s get into it.

Damon notices that Bonnie touches him sparingly and really not because she wants to but because it happens accidentally every now and then, one of the perks about frequently invading her space.

Being stuck on the other side, there is less room for her and more for him, she’s in his world now which means it’s his duty to make her feel as uncomfortably comfortable as possible.

He notices everything; how her cheeks turn red when their knuckles brush against one another’s, how she takes in an exasperated little breath when their shoulders touch, how she rolls her eyes when he stands entirely too close. Damon hangs on to these moments because this may be his only form of female contact he’ll receive for a very, very, long time.

That is the only reason he hangs on.

Anytime she touches him intentionally, he feels a pride swell deep in his chest that he’s liked by Bonnie after a rocky road of ups and downs, fussing and fighting, he is finally deemed worthy enough for her to care about him even if it’s brief, even if it’s the smallest skin to skin contact imaginable.

And yes, he cares because if he has to spend the rest of eternity with one person, they might as well get along.

Movie night comes around so he rests his head in her lap, testing the waters, to see how she will respond to him. He senses her tense up a bit as predicted, but then she relaxes into it breath by breath like she’s doing a tricky yoga pose.

Bonnie’s body lotion makes her skin smell edible- cocoa and honey- she’ll never know but that’s why he nicknames her Bon Bon, she always smells good enough to eat. At this point, Damon can’t recall the VHS movie on the block of a television, his focus has been robbed by Bonnie and this new form of contact she allows him to try. Half of his smile sinks into the cotton of her leggings.

Her eyes never leave the screen when she laces her fingers through his hair, nails surfing through tufts of raven-black and the gesture is so shocking and embarrassingly arousing that a strangled groan gets trapped in his throat.

She panics, and he can tell by the change in her heart rate before saying. “Did I hurt you?” He has to clear his throat to speak.

“Hmmm mm, feels good,” he mumbles feigning casual so she can’t realize how he needs this so so bad that he’s fearful of it being taken away. In his mind he thinks about what if.

What if she wakes up and decides she doesn’t want to tap dance on the line between what is and isn’t acceptable for two best friends. What if she remembers that he’s actually a terrible person who has done horrendous things to her and everyone she’s ever loved.

She shouldn’t like him or try not to laugh at his jokes. Not at all. Bonnie should’ve killed him a long, long time ago because if anyone could do it, it’d be her. He can see her now, all badass and angry with a wooden stake in her hand, vengeance in her eyes, the very last thing he’d see before his lights went out forever.

Bonnie, the giver and the taker.

Bonnie, the only god he knew.

Damon finds himself thinking so intensely lately that he checks the mirror more often than not to make sure he has no brooding lines like his little brother. Stefan’s expansive forehead has the room for it, his perfectly shaped forehead does not.

She laces her fingers back through his hair again and his eyes flutter, that’s how good it feels. It’s sensational. And while he’s had his hair pulled in and out of the bedroom, the innocence of her touch makes him want to melt. He finds his lids growing heavier, like how they used to do a century-and-a-half ago when he was human.

Running through dandelion fields in the overbearing Virginia heat, the sun up above sending heavy gusts of sunshine beams, a moment he considers to be oppressive now, used to be magical then- miraculous -and despite sweating through his britches and overcoat he never cared enough to stop running through the fields. The sun was the greatest thing all those years ago, back when white was his favorite color.

And after drawing a long, hot bath, he’d sink deep into the water while the bubbles floated to the top. Damon would close his eyes, hold his breath, see if he could break his prior record. Then he’d get out and the sleep would welcome him like any drowsy being, with open arms. And there he’d fall.

Bonnie has that affect on him. She makes him think of home, his past, when times were simpler and he was human.

He feels that exhausted sometimes, a boy who’s never stopped running through dandelion fields, whether it snows or rains or burns him alive. Her fingernails rake through his scalp- orange leaves on browning grass. Ruining Stefan’s piles for the fun of it. His lids droop. Tired of being consumed by himself, by Bonnie, he admits defeat this time. When he finally drifts off, he remembers that the Virginia heat gave him this same warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

“You really don’t know how good this feels,” his final words are hoarse before he drifts off but the last thing he sees is Bonnie.

The giver and the taker, the only god he knows.

.

Bonnie refuses to relish in the magic of the moment, the fact that it’s so rare Damon ever completely lets his guard down around her. She can always feel his eyes on her, constantly watching because Damon has a presence that’s inescapable.

Being so close to him when he’s extremely vulnerable makes her realize that in all facets, he’s stunning. A stunning that’s almost suffocating but with the dynamic they possess, he only needs to know that he’s not that much of an eye sore.

Now, she stares with wide eyes while she can, memorizes the smooth expanse of skin, every strand of dark hair. Relishes in the feel of his arms around her waist, the weight of his head in her lap. It’s been a long time since she’s felt a body besides her own and as much as she likes to ignore the fact, she has needs, needs that have swelled from being in the presence of Damon for too long.

He’s sexy without any effort, she examines. His dark t-shirt has risen and his pants are low enough that she observes the waistline of (silk?) boxers, taut muscle, navel, happy trail, yeah. Bonnie drinks him in like a cool glass of milk before bedtime- never has this much pretty been in her lap before. Her hands find their way in his head again, tousles through and he nuzzles up against her in his sleep. It’s difficult to pull her eyes away from him, but when she does, the credits are rolling on the screen.

This is Damon she’s thinking about like this, her best friend and also her first best friend’s boyfriend. She repeats it again, not satisfied that the guilt isn’t drowning her like it sometimes does when she catches herself lingering on his attractiveness for too long but Mystic Falls, the real Mystic Falls seems so far away. Elena, Caroline, Matt, Alaric, her old life just seems unattainable, no bigger than a memory she occasionally mistakes for a bad dream.

There’s no denying that being away from it all, here with Damon as the only other person in the world, she feels…safe. Maybe even protected, it’s a stark contrast from the real Mystic Falls where her life is always on the line.

Bonnie starts to get up when she feels his hold on her tighten to prevent her from moving away. They play tug of war for a bit but she eventually stops fighting because Damon is a vampire after all, physical strength is going to get her nowhere. “Fine,” she grumbles, then plops down which causes the end of her top to ride up enough that she can feel the press of Damon’s nose on the curve of her waist. Despite trying to inch her shirt back down, she has no luck. Naturally Damon doesn’t mind.

He inhales her skin deeply, makes a sound of approval before groggily muttering, “Going topless now, are we Judgey?”

She grabs his hair again, yanks his head back as a rebuttal, and Damon bites his tongue so hard that it bleeds. He has to ensure that all of the blood in his body isn’t rushing south too fast but unfortunately, he would have to sever both his arms completely off to stop the blood flow.

Bonnie realizes the dazed look in his eyes isn’t one of pain nor is it from sleep, “Not the reaction you expected, huh?” He asks, gesturing for her to look down but she doesn’t, she can’t. She’s embarrassed, and to make matters worse, a teensy bit turned on.

“You scared, Bon Bon? I thought you were big and bad,” Damon mocks, pulling between his legs to make more room in his jeans, “it’s okay. I know Jeremy left much to be desired.” He sits up with swirls of longing still in his eyes, then grabs a pillow to place in his lap.

“Scared?” She guffaws. “Of what exactly?”

“Me…You.”

“And that means?”

“You’re a smart girl, Bon, figure it out.” Damon taunts, holding her eyes with his. “It’s awfully lonely here.”

She says nothing for a while, refusing to break eye contact first. “So.”

“Soooo, I won’t tell if you won’t.” It’s almost a joke, almost because she has a feeling if she says yes to whatever sort of ambiguous proposal he’s thrown up in the air, there won’t be any laughter. If she says no, it’s no different from his usual innuendos but boy, will she wonder.

“Wanna take a walk on the wild side?” He asks in a singsong tone, eyes dropping to her lips then back up to her eyes.

There are no alarms, no cell phones, no one here that can interrupt this moment. She has to answer, though she has no idea what will come out of her mouth. Bonnie shuts her eyes to make the moment less real, as if it will change the fact that she whispers, “Just one kiss,”

They’re nose to nose when Damon whispers back, “a peck.”

She swallows his breath. “Mhmm,”

“It’s nothing,”

“Nothing.”

“As light as air,” he presses his lips to hers for a brief moment then pulls back again. “See.” He peppers more kisses on her lips, down her jaw, the side of her neck, but they’re heavier. They have a density now. His tongue is on the flesh of her shoulder, teasing up her neck. She feels the light imprint of sharp canines, arousal surges through her like a power circuit, so intense that she moans. When he makes his way back up, their mouths both open in a feral kiss that robs them of air.

Bonnie holds his face in place though he makes no attempt to move away. The pillow falls out from between them when he grabs Bonnie’s leg to straddle him.

It’s nothing.

Nothing separating them from attacking each other’s mouths, nothing stopping Damon from gripping his best friend’s hips, nothing saving Bonnie from discarding his shirt.

His skin is cool enough that she can stream together some thought in between relentless kisses. “Damon,” she tries her best to sound admonishing.

“Please, not right now.” Damon cuffs both her wrists behind her with one hand and plants a hickey just above her cleavage. She sees stars. He already knows what the inflection in her voice means- the timing couldn’t be worse.“Let’s save the guilt for tomorrow morning.” His tone is octaves lower, almost as low as his lids. He drags his eyes up to hers, and they’re so shiny she can see her reflection. “I need this, Bonnie. Don’t you?”

He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, just continues on with his ministrations, hypnotized by the pheromones seeping off of her in waves, wanting to memorize the scent with his tongue. She whines his name, like actually whines his name, and the feeling that sits in the pit of his stomach scares him. Bonnie is so oblivious to the appeal she carries but if she sat in his skin for a day, hell, for a moment, she would realize just how long she’s been driving him insane.

“We can’t,” she groans weakly. “We can’t.”

Damon tries to breathe easier, but that feeling is lurking in his gut. She’s right. The things he’d do to her, he’d break her in half. He removes Bonnie from his lap, separates from her warmth, her scent. Backs away until the tv threatens to fall off the stand. Everything in him tells him to go back, to reenter the magnetic pull, to poke at her forcefield.

He backs away even further if possible. Her breath catches at the distance.

Bonnie’s cheeks are flushed, warm and red like fruit. If she was an apple, she would have already been eaten down to the core. If she was a peach, it would be easier to explain why he ate her. He thinks to himself that he’s officially off the rails, comparing Bonnie to fruit like he is, but he’s trying to rationalize his irrationality. Because if Bonnie never stopped him, he’d definitely be eating something by now.

“Nothing happened.” She says, ignoring his expression and the silent plea in his eyes.

“Nothing.” He deadpans, throwing his shirt back over his head.

Damon thinks of how different things would be if he had his way. Bonnie, spent, drunk, high off of him. Bleeding and wild, pretty and dangerous, yelling for God. He would plunge Jeremy right out of her, help her find her magic again. Give her everything she could dream of. He gulps.

She doesn’t sleep with him tonight, not in the same bed. She’s on the opposite end of the boarding house when he hears her slide under the covers.

The next morning, he thinks to himself, if she even utters a word about last night, he’ll pick up from where he left off. But she doesn’t, her eyes are far away again, and the only proof he has of their adventures is the wonderful, purple hickey.

When movie night comes back around, his head is in her lap and her hand is back in his hair, running to and fro like him in his lavender fields.

That’s all he gets.

Every now and then, it’s enough.

Bonnie gives and takes, then takes away some more.

She’s the closest thing to God he’ll probably ever know.

[writingwithcolor]

Abdul Karim-like Character in Steampunk Novel with Fratricide Backstory

@the-lady-writes-what submitted:

I’m undergoing a massive rewrite for my dark fantasy, steampunk novel set in the 1870’s. The longer I look at it, the more problematic one character in particular becomes. I have a character who is named Mr. Gupta, who happens to work for Wilhemina, a member of the peerage. He fled from his country because he murdered his brother, not because he was looking for work but it ended up that way because Wilhemina’s mother was looking for cheap labor. Wilhemina ends up treating him better than her parents once she inherits the estate and refuses to call him a servant, but it still looks like he’s a servant and that is a trope I want to avoid. It wasn’t uncommon for Indians to work for the peerage during this time period like Abdul Karim for Queen Victoria. However, I’m not shooting for historical accuracy, so the trope of an Indian servant feels very wrong. In my ignorance, I don’t know where to put him. I don’t want to scrap his character entirely as that isn’t good writing and I don’t want an entire white cast. The best I can come up with is by making their relationship platonic and respectful, though I do worry that this could be patronizing. 

Tracing One’s Logic

I have a list of questions for you to consider within your setting. 

First - Plot Relevance: Why did you decide to use this character in the context of your story? What purpose does he serve within the plot? Is the character active or is he a plot device? What purpose does he serve in the steampunk context?

Second - Inspirations: What bases/inspirations are you using as foundations for your narrative? Did you watch Victoria & Abdul and base it off of that? How have you seen the trope utilized otherwise? The trope is pretty overused and has specific racist undertones that you seem to want to avoid; would it significantly change the narrative to remove this trope and alter the character?

Third - Historical accuracy: Why are you using this trope in this steampunk context? If you’re not shooting for historical accuracy, why is the trope necessary? Is this narrative set in Britain? The usage of Indians as servants and laborers in the peerage was something pretty specific to the British due to their colonization in India. How far do you plan to divorce this concept from its historical basis? 

Fourth -  Character Specific: If this is dark fantasy, is Mr. Gupta specifically Indian or is this shown through coding? Is he specifically Bengali, given the name? Is the country he fled from actually India or is it a different Indian-coded nation? What qualifies him as ‘not a servant’ to Wilhelmina, if he’s working under the peerage as a part of an estate? Does Wilhemina refuse to call all of the people working on her estate servants in any manner? If so, what’s so special about Wilhelmina & why does she do that? Why is the distinction of Mr. Gupta's treatment necessary to the narrative?

Fifth - Relationship: The nature of a relationship based on servitude is inherently hierarchical--what do you mean by platonic and respectful? Are you indicating a relationship without the romantic undertones and tension that much of this trope uses? Are you indicating a relationship similar to actual relationships of this type? I don’t think it’s a matter of making it platonic and respectful as much as it is considering his actual role in the narrative and relation to Wilhelmina.

There were many people of color in Europe in the 1870s. Just one example is Alexandre Dumas, who was a bit before the 1870s, but was one of the most widely-read French authors. People of color did exist in Europe and can be a part of your story without being tokenized and/or used as plot devices. Given the separation from historical accuracy, you could emphasize this and expand the racial/ethnic diversity of your cast even further. 

~Abhaya

Alternatives

You know what you’re doing wrong and you’re self aware. That’s great! Now it’s on you to fix.

Examine why you want this character to be here--do you want him to be here as the token minority in a white cast, or is he actually a fully-fleshed out character, like mentioned above? You can’t have a platonic, respectful relationship if there’s a built-in power imbalance--what if they’re working partners? Old friends? I want you to genuinely ask yourself what exactly you want this character to do, because while this is steampunk-inspired and therefore a very Eurocentric aesthetic, it’s also fantasy. There’s genuinely no reason to build into those racist tropes.

--Sophia