#thanks to those that came to watch me draw her on stream!

[galaxysugarr]

Finally Adding onto the Royalty set! Ruling alongside Eclipse, Queen Luna! :D

[keline11]

Missa's therapy session.

(so much chaos in this stream, I don't like watching it)

(drawing: scammer)

The first one was missa saying that he came back and everything was different. He meet up with roier, and were talking about how the island change while he wasn't there.

Roier: “Do you remember the railroad you were boulding?”

Missa: “Yeah! I know!-”

R: *showing his waystone* “It's no longer of any use.”

M: “YEAH! FOR FUCK’S SAKE ROIER THANK YOU VERY MUCH!! When I finished, someone transported in front of me and was like ‘what are you doing?’"

R: “well, it’s cute/nice-”

M: “Nah, go fuck youself”

R: “I say you keep building it”

M: “You know what? I feel like the fucking broken fork. you know? the crooked fork? that is the only fork, it’s the only one, it's unique and different, different to the other ones BUT IT’S USELESS, IT DOESN’T WORK FOR ANYTHING, THAT’S ME! OK? I AM THE CROOKED FORK!”

This one was when people where chasing him.

Melissa: “What brings you here?”

Missa: “uh, I’m not sure if I should have this session- no, I should talk about my problems”

Me: “No you should do it”

Mi: “yeah, you are right”

Mi: “psicolog- melisso- you- melissa- roier- whatever you want to call yourself-"

Me: “what? what did you say?”

Mi: “Melissa! Melissa!”

Me: “yeah melissa, melissa”

Mi: “many things have happened in my life, I only wanted to build a theme park and invite everyone from the island, but I meet with some people around and they tell me that I was the worst father in the world, and I also saw my son but he was different-”

Mi: “everything has been bad, I wanted to see my son but he was different, he was hanging out with people that are a bad influence for him because they wanted to attack me. They did something to chayanne, they did something to my son”

Me: “Would you say that they changed him?”

Mi: “Definitely, something is wrong with my little child“

Me: “I see”

Then he tells her the bullshit that frvr told him. (I don't remember exactly and I am not seeing that part of the stream, but basically he told him that chayanne was cucurucho, some shit like that.)

Mi “that’s not my son! my son wouldn’t do something like that!”

...

Mi: “there’s something wrong with foolish and tubbo they wanted to attack me, they hurt me, they chased me, and my son was with them, they are a bad influence on my son. My son was an angel, a beautiful little thing that took care of the people.”

..

Me: “So you said that they changed your son and they have been very rude to you, but missa, don't be sad, you have to be with the people who add to you, not those who subtract from you. Then I tell you to talk with your son alone, and tell him how you feel”

Mi: “Melissa, thank you for the therapy”

They start talking in english here.

Richarlyson: “What do you think of bringing chayanne here?”

Mi: “Do you think it is a good idea?”

Me: “I think is a excellent idea, but *speaks in english* you need to speak in english, because you know, chayanne doesn’t speak spanish”

Mi: “I don’t know if I am ready to speak with my son”

Me: “I think it's time, you need to speak to him”

Mi: “I’ll do it then”

Then they invite chayanne to the room like a tv show. (soooo funny)

pipipipipipipi

Me: “Chayanne, your dad is very sad, because you change and your friends treat your father very bad, what do you have to say?”

Chay: “I was sleeping so much waiting for you, I am sad too”

Mi: “no…”

Chay: “I want to be able to speak to you as well”

Me: “Chayanne, you need to know that your dad has sleeping problems, and some times your dad needs to sleep for months”

Mi: “I wasn't sleeping, I was traveling across the world looking for a job, so I can be competent for you father, I was trying to be the best for your father and also for you, and I failed because it took me a lot of time, I didn’t do a good job I know-”

Chay: "But you are already the best for us”

Mi: *crying* “I’ve been trying I swear, it’s so hard being an absent dad, looking at you from the distance”

Chay: “Me too, I’ll try to be better”

Mi: “(but) you are! you are the best! you don’t need to be better you are the best on this island, maybe you are better psychiatrist than melissa-”

Me: “What-?”

Mi: “Shut up this isn't about you”

Chay: “But you don't want to speak to me”

Mi: “(but) I am here, speaking to you right now, I’ve been trying to fix everything I’ve been doing wrong, I am so sorry you are with bad people because of me, I am sorry”

Me: “I think this needs to be solve with a song”

Chay: "sure"

They sing “We are the world”.

Me: “you see, it's fine now, don’t you feel better?”

Mi: “...no”

Chay: "jajajajaja no"

After the session

Chay: *in spanish* “I love you papa”

Mi: “I love you son, forgive me for being absent- sorry for being a bad dad, I was away for too long”

Chay: *in spanish* “I learn a little, ok?"

Mi: “Chayanne you don’t need to learn, I can speak in english with you- chayanne you don’t need to change, I am the problem, I must understand you, I have to be better for you, so I’ll be here everyday- not a promise- I’ll be here, to be a better father for you”

Chay: “But how much better is enough? You are enough for me already”

Mi: “no, I am not, I leave for too long”

Pipipipipipi

Sad ending. )8

[boliv-jenta]

Marcus Pike x ofc (no description just referred to as she)

A lazy afternoon of edging with Marcus.

Warnings: P in V sex. F!receiving oral. Cum eating.

"Eight...fuck...nine, Marcus!" He stopped where he was, letting her come down a little.

"Good girl." His hands stroked her thighs with a softeness that betrayed their size.

They trailer down to where they were joined. He squeezed the base of his cock as it throbbed inside of her. He'd got just as close to ten as she had that time.

For the last hour she'd been just ahead of him. Hitting seven, eight, nine just as he hit sixes and sevens. Using the same skills he used in his work, he kept himself under control. The restraint he showed when dealing with scumbags, he used to resist the urge to pound deeper into her warm heat. The patience to trade off for a bigger fish, he used to stop himself from letting her come. With each denial he knew his reward would be that much sweeter. In the past he'd edged her with more formality to it. Set the scene and the rules beforehand. Since she had introduced him to sex toys he has become a master with them. Bondage pieces had quickly become a favourite. Restraining her, being in complete control of her pleasure, was a turn on like no other to him. Hours would pass with her writhing and moaning under his control. He would get so hard that when he finally allowed himself to let go, he would spill in minutes.

Today, he had bent her over her bed intending to make the most of their free weekday afternoon. Sex, followed by a tour of the new exhibition downtown. It was far too busy at the weekend for either of their tastes. A quiet weekday afternoon would be perfect. From the second that he bent her naked form over, the bright summer sun streaming through the window making her bare skin glow, he knew the exhibition was going to have to wait a little. When he had spread her folds with his fingers, felt the heat radiating before he fully made contact, felt the glide of her slick on her lips. He knew the the exhibition was going to have to wait a while. When he slid the head of his cock through her soft folds, catching on her enterance a couple of times, causing her breath to hitch and her to grip the sheets. When he finally pushed the tip of him in, the luxurious grasp of her drawing him deeper. He knew they were not making the exhibition today. Watching those first few thrusts, how his dick came away even more coated in her slick, he knew this was the only place he wanted to be today.

Once she began to tighten around a little too fast for his liking he knew his new plans for this afternoon.

"What number, Baby?" His hands massaged her ass as he spoke.

She hummed at him too lost in the sensation of him filling her to catch his question.

He slapped her ass before asking again. "What number, Baby?" He soothed the skin under his touch.

"Six." She breathed, purposely clenching around him. She knew what type of afternoon she was in for.

"Good." He groaned. "Tell me if you get higher."

For a good while, he kept himself steady, the same pace, the same depth of his thrusts. He watched transfixed as his girth split her open, as she grew wetter around him, her slick glistening in the sun.

Not wearing a condom was a recent development. They had a long discussion about their relationship and their birth control options. They both decided they trusted each other enough to indulge in a deeper level of intimacy. No matter how many times he'd slipped into her bare in the last few weeks, it still made his legs tremble at that first skin to skin contact. The alternating sensation of her velvet heat as he buried himself deep and her wetness cooling in the slight breeze from the window as he withdrew was sending him higher himself.

He sighed in relief at the sound of her voice. "Seven!"

"Good girl. Thank you." He praised. He loved that she would indulge him in this. She was always truthful, even if it meant delaying her orgasm even further. He withdrew a little, left his cockhead pressed inside of her. He breathed through the tingle low in his balls. Tried not to think about how beautiful her soft curves looked spread out in front of him. He did, however, make the mistake of looking down at her pussy dripping around him. No, this wouldn't do. He would crumble before he could edge her further.

"Can we move up the bed a little?" His hand splayed out over her stomach. He hauled her closer. Her back pressed to his chest. The natural scent of her, sweet and musky with sweat, made the animal inside him rear up. He drove back into her deeply. His hips slammed into her ass hard and fast. Falling forward he had her pinned to the bed beneath him. For a moment he forgot himself. All that mattered was the tug of her around him, her moans, the sucking sound of her gushing around him.

"Oh my god. Eight! Eight, Baby, Eight." She babbled as she clenched around him. He had no choice but to pull out completely. If he'd have stayed in his carnal need would have had him push them both over the edge. Laying flat against her back he felt his heart slamming in his chest. He concentrated on their breathing, the tandem raise and fall of it. Out of sync at first then falling into a steady rhythm.

"Do you want to keep going?" His lips brushed her shoulder, pressing the odd kiss here and there.

"Yes. Please." She was just as eager as he was. Every time she gave herself willingly to him. Offered up her trust and control to him.

Not wanting it to end he slipped inside and ground against her for a while. Just a soft tease of his length inside of her. Still temptation pulled at him. He needed to feel her close again, feel her muscles bear down on him, to jerk his cock closer to release. Lifting her hips up, he angled himself just so, rolled his hips so the tip brushed something devastating inside. She lowered her head, moaned into the pillow underneath her.

"Marcus please." He could never deny her. Thrusting into her, hard and steady, he got her even closer to climax.

"Eight...fuck...nine, Marcus!" He stopped where he was, letting her come down a little.

"Good girl." His hands stroked her thighs with a softeness that betrayed their size. They trailer down to where they were joined. He squeezed the base of his cock as it throbbed inside of her. He'd got just as close to ten as she had that time. Her pussy fluttered around him, her orgasm just snatched from her.

"Do you have a few more nines for me before I let you come?" He smiled at how quickly she nodded. "Such a good girl for me."

He nuzzled her neck before lifting her up, one hand pressed to her public bone, fingertips just skimmed where she'd want them. His other hand palmed her breast, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he began to pound into her. Her hands grabbed at him. One over his at her chest, the other in his hair.

"Marcus. Fuck. So good to me. No one's ever been this good to me. Nine." That's all it took for his plans to completely unravel. One solitary confession of how taken care of by him she feels.

"Nine!" She repeated pulling at his hair. He body tensed with effort to be good for him as he fucked her hard. The pressure began to build inside him again. A tingle began to spread out from his groin.

"I know, Babe. I just want to feel you. You can come. You..." The pressure burst, he began to fill her with his come. The first wave of pleasure washed over him. As his seed shot out. He thought he was done until she clamped down around him, milking more out of him. A second wave of pleasure washed over him he was almost light head as the world blurred out of his consciousness for a moment. All he could think about was her pussy convulsing around him and the rush of hormones flooding his body. Her soft lips touching his cheek brought him back to himself.

Either she became heavy in his arms or he became weak. Either way, he eased her forward until she propped up on her forearms. As he worked his way down her spine, he left kissed in his wake. Sleep pulled at him but before he could rest, he needed to taste her, them, hopefully make her come again. Eating her out from behind her rolled his tongue through their spend. On her own she tasted incredible but there was something about their combination juices that he just craved. He savoured it, plunged his tongue deep until there was no more to taste. He could feel she was close again. It only took a few swipes of his tongue over her clit to make her come. He licked up the new rush of come before crawling up the bed to lay beside her. Neither of them spoke as he lay his head on the pillow. Her hand came up to thread in his hair, fingertips tracing light circles on his scalp. He pulled one of her legs over his. Her head rested against his broad chest. Their matching smiles barely faded as sleep over took them.

A/N I may have posted this before but I don't think I did. I'm going through my old WIPs to see what is salvageable as my creativity is on the fritz.

Tags: @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @manazo @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories @geekrenaissance @its-nebuleuse @sherala007 @vabeachazn

[happyhauntt]

give your tears to the tide — nikolai lantsov.

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: now that he knows, nikolai lantsov is the only soul in the world aware of the truth at the heart of her. for better or worse.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

─── warnings: sexual assault tw! (off-screen, not descriptive), serious angst, character death (minor character), manslaughter, mentions of the army (in a canon context). this one's a lil dark. hurt/comfort. trauma. nikolai learns that anya is grisha except it's in the worst way possible and he behaves like a fucking king. threats of violence. i realise this plot would've been a lot more believable if anya were a heartrender or squaller but i fully believe in my heart that she's a tidemaker so suspend your belief for five minutes pls and thank you.

─── word count: 2.8k.

─── taglist: @naushtheaspiringauthor / @a-taken-url / if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know!

      There's a body in the corner and the stable floor is soaked through with water. It seeps through the fabric of her army-issue trousers, clinging and cold, but Anya can hardly feel it. The ground is hard beneath her, but still she sits, with her knees pulled up to her chest, and she watches. She waits. She prays to Saints she doesn't really believe in that the body in the corner will twitch, or breathe, or something.

     But it doesn't, and it won't, and there's no Saint in the world that can save her now.

     That's how Nikolai finds her. Not long after curfew, when she didn't check in with their commanding officer before dinner, he'd known something was off. In all the months he has served with her in their unit, he cannot recall a time when she was late for anything. Nikolai didn't think she was even capable of such a thing, really, so he'd asked Dominik to cover for them and slipped off to look for her as everyone got ready for bed.

     He checks the gardens first. More often than not, he'll find Anya laying on a bedroll beside her tent, watching the sun set over the horizon. She'd count the stars as they came into view and once, when she'd been feeling particularly tolerant, she'd even invited him to sit with her so they could point out constellations. It is a rare day when he doesn't set her teeth on edge, so he'd joined her eagerly and listened, enraptured, as she told him all about the stars and their stories.

     Those same stars glitter overhead now, winking mockingly at him, but there is no one to be found in the gardens. The estate their unit is staying at on their way north belongs to some baron whose name Nikolai doesn’t care to remember, and it isn't too large, but even so, he checks the gardens again.

     Just in case.

     Nikolai sighs to himself, unable to think of where she might be, before he notices a light in the distance. Everyone else has gone to bed, and the officers are drinking and playing cards in the drawing room, so why would there be anyone in the stables this late? Why would Anya be there?

     He doesn't dwell on the thought for longer than a moment. If it is her, then his worries will ease, and that's enough to send him striding down the dirt track that leads to the stables.

     As he nears, the ground beneath his feet grows soggy with muck. An odd trickling sound catches his attention, and when he squints into the dark, he notices a small stream of water escaping through a crack in the doorway.

     Nikolai pushes the unlocked door open, wincing as the hinges shriek. One of the horses chuffs at the sudden sound, but otherwise the room remains silent as a grave. The sudden draft makes the lantern flicker where it hangs from its hook, and as his eyes adjust to the dim light, he realises that he is not alone in the stable.

     "Anya?" Even though his voice is little more than a murmur, it still feels too loud. The sound of it rattles off the walls, and he can't help but flinch, but the girl curled up on the floor doesn't move. Doesn't raise her head, or even really seem to breathe.

     He creeps closer. Dread settles over him like a burial shroud. Old bits of hay crunch beneath his feet and the lantern spits, but the pit in his stomach only grows as he takes in Anya's appearance.

     Her hair straggles around her face in limp, damp strands. When Nikolai last saw her, it had been neatly braided and pinned, but now honey-coloured strands hang loose and messy. Her skin is damp, too, and pale. So pale, white as a corpse, and a flash of panic rolls through him.

     "Anya, come on." He kneels on the ground beside her. Cold, dirty water seeps into the knees of his trousers. He reaches out with gentle hands, but doesn't touch her. They merely hover above her shoulders, as if to offer comfort he isn't sure she'll accept. Not from him. "What are you doing out here? You're soaked, and it's freezing. Let's get you inside before you get ill."

     Anya doesn't look at him. Her stare is fixed, unwavering, on a dark corner of the stables. There's something hollow and hopeless about them that makes him feel sick.

     A long moment passes, and then— "I didn't mean to."

     He doesn't think he's ever heard her sound like this before. Doesn't think he's heard anyone sound like this before. "What? Anya, what are you talking about?"

     "I didn't mean to." Her voice is brittle. The words are shards of broken glass on her tongue. Every one of them slices her open. Makes her bleed. "I... It was an accident. I didn't... I swear, I didn't even..."

     She wavers at the end, trailing off into a heavy silence. When she looks at him then, eyes so wide and frightened, Nikolai swears his heart grinds to a halt. That look cuts him deeper than any blade ever could.

     "Anya." Concern wavers in the depths of his eyes, and finally he reaches out to touch her. Gentle hands clasp her shoulders. She's so cold. He wonders how long she's been sitting out here. "What happened? Where did all this water come from?"

     Anya swallows roughly. Her lower lip quivers. Every part of him wants to hold her close, as if that will chase away all her demons, but he knows she won’t allow it. "Me. Or... him, maybe. I don't know. I didn't mean to do it, I just—"

     A choked sob cuts her off, and Anya buries her face in her hands. There's no doubt that she probably wishes anyone else had found her out here, rather than the boy who teases and goads her relentlessly. She doesn't even like him, really.

     Yet he's the one who noticed she was missing.

     "Anya. Nastya, look at me." The childhood nickname falls from his tongue before he can stop it, and he squeezes her shoulders once, a little too harshly, to pull her focus back. "Tell me what happened."

     "I came down to check on the horses. Maksim asked to swap duties with me so he could run into town and post a letter to his mother." Anya's hands begin to shake violently. She curls them into fists and presses them hard against her thighs to make them stop. "I was just finishing up when— Fuck, I don't even know him. He was only just assigned to our regiment. Lenkov, I think? Saints, I killed him and I don't even remember his name." She manages a short, sharp laugh. She almost sounds hysterical.

     "Anya." A sudden chill sweeps over Nikolai, as if someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head.

     Anya shakes her head. "I didn't even notice he was in here. And then he— he grabbed me, and he put his hand around my throat and shoved me up against the wall and told me to shut up even though I wasn't even screaming, I couldn't scream, I couldn't— And he started pulling at my shirt, and I didn't even think, I just did it. I remembered seeing them do it, the hand gestures, I didn't even know what they meant, I just wanted him to get off me."

     A thousand thoughts sweep through him all at once, but the only thing Nikolai cares about is the tremor in Anya’s voice, the shaking of her hands as she gestures to the corner. He sees the body slumped over in a puddle. Bits of straw stick to the fabric of his uniform. The familiar emblem of Ravka winks back at Nikolai, as if the double eagle is sneering at him, but there is nothing here to be ashamed of.

     "Can you stand?" he asks.

     She looks up at him sharply. "What? Nikolai, I just told you—"

     "Can you stand, Anya?" Her name sits like a lead weight on his tongue. He says it firmly, harsher than he wants to be, but there's a manic look in her eye he's never seen before. Not on her. He needs to keep her attention, her focus, away from the body in the corner. Away from the blood on her hands.

     She nods, once. "I think so."

     "Alright." Nikolai pushes himself up from the ground, and tries not to shiver at the way his damp trousers stick to his skin. The beginnings of a plan begin to formulate in his mind, and when Anya looks him in the eye, the certainty she finds there begins to set her at ease. "You're going to go back to the manor. Sneak in through the side entrance. Make sure nobody sees you. Go to the library. It should be empty. I'll meet you there in an hour."

     "Nikolai."

     "Go, Anya." They're not friends. She's made that abundantly clear so many times these last few months, but the way she's looking at him now, with her heart split wide open, makes him want to hold her tight and never let go. "I'll deal with this."

     And somehow, because she trusts him — Saints, she cannot believe she actually trusts him — she forces her stiff limbs to carry her out of the door and away from the chaos she caused.

     When she dares to cast a glance back of her shoulder, she finds the dim light extinguished, flooding the stables with shadows.

     An oil lamp flickers on the table, dim enough that it won't cast any light beneath the door, and Anya has to squint in order to decipher the look on Nikolai's face when he sneaks into the library nearly an hour later.

     A deep frown has etched itself into his features, and Anya’s chest seizes at the sight of it. She cannot recall a day in her life where Nikolai wasn’t smiling. There are lines carved on each side of his mouth, even at the age of sixteen, that bear the echo of his good humour.

     She cannot stomach that she is the reason for that frown.

     He doesn't say anything as he presses a glass bottle into her hands, before settling himself into the low armchair opposite. When she removes the stopper, it smells suspiciously like brandy.

     "What have you done with him?"

      There are still flecks of dirt stuck beneath Nikolai's fingernails, even though he scrubbed his hands nearly raw in the kitchens just now. Streaks of mud stain the hems of his trousers. A faint scent of soil lingers in the air.

     "Do you really want to know?" Nikolai hadn't felt all that terrible as he'd rolled Lenkov's body into a shallow grave at the edge of the property. Perhaps he should have. But every time the guilt tried to creep in, the memory of Anya curled up on the stable floor would flash through his mind, and every shovelful of dirt became a little easier to bear.

     Come morning, their superior officer will find a scribbled letter in Lenkov's bunk and assume he is a deserter. The reputation that will earn him is not nearly as bad as he deserves, but it will do. It’s not like he’ll live to harm anyone else.

     Nikolai nods at the bottle in her hands. "Drink, Anya."

     It's odd, really. Watching her follow instructions. His instructions, at least. Nikolai is used to her battling him. More often than not, his remarks are usually met with a snarky retort or an outright insult.

     As her lips close around the bottle and she swallows a sip of the brandy he stole, he decides he doesn't like her silent. He doesn't like it at all.

     When she's done, she holds the bottle out towards him like a peace offering. He takes his own long swallow of brandy and relishes the burn as it slides down his throat.

     "Why did you help me?" Anya’s voice wavers as she speaks, though she tries her best to steady it. In this light, Nikolai cannot quite see her expression, but he knows, somehow, that she's frowning. A little dip appearing between her brows. He's so familiar with it, has dreamed of smoothing it over with his thumb until she smiles at him. In his dreams, it’s the sort of smile that could cure any ill in the world.

     He chuckles and downs another sip. "Would you prefer I stand silently by as they arrest you? Sit in the crowd at your tribunal? Would you rather I watch as they lead you to the gallows and hang you for murder?"

     Her breathing turns ragged. "It wasn't murder—"

     "The First Army hates Grisha, Anya." There's no venom in his tone, but she flinches all the same. His eyes soften as he passes the bottle back to her. "You think they'd care if it was an accident? Or self-defence? All they would see is you, a Grisha who hid her powers and infiltrated the ranks of the First Army, killing one of their own. There would be no saving you from that."

     The statement hangs in the air between them like a noose. The gas lamp spits and crackles.

     "My parents hid it. Not me." She takes a large swig of the brandy and clutches the bottle close to her chest, as if it's a shield. "I was... Saints, maybe eleven, when I started to show. My mother cut my hand when the Grisha testers came so they couldn’t test me.”

     Anya’s hand flexes slightly, as if she is even aware she’s doing it. There’s still a thin white scar hidden in the crease of her palm.

     “After that,” she says, “my parents stopped bringing me to court. Told everyone that my health was fragile and that I wasn't well enough to travel."

     Nikolai nods, humming beneath his breath. He remembers that. One summer Anya was there, screaming through the gardens of the Grand Palace with him and Dominik and some of the other children, and then she was gone. She'd only appear once or twice a year afterwards, at the Winter Fête or his brother’s birthday ball, and her mother would always keep her close by.

     "I am my father's heir." Anya swallows roughly. Affection threads through her voice like strands of gold.

     Nikolai had met the Duke of Balakirev a few times as a child, and unlike many other nobles rattling around court in Os Alta, he hadn’t found the man to be ridiculous or, worse, intimidating. He recalls an older man, somewhere in his fifties with ruddy cheeks and silver streaking through his hair, but he had kind eyes. That, Nikolai remembers well.

     He sees the same soft blue in Anya’s eyes. 

     Anya’s heart warms at the memory of him. She last saw him just before she enlisted, months ago, and he’d watched her leave with shining eyes and a worried little pout. He’d tried to smile.

     He hadn’t wanted her to know he was afraid.

    ��"I’m his only child.” Anya’s lips form a tight line. “And the Grisha testers would have shipped me off to the Little Palace. I'd be lucky to ever see my parents again, Nikolai. Once you are labelled Grisha, it is a brand you bear for life. It becomes the only thing you are, and I... I love my parents for protecting me. I don't practise or train, I don't... I didn't know what I was doing in the stables. I don't know what I was thinking. I just wanted him to stop."

     Her voice is quiet, so quiet he can hardly hear her now.

     Nikolai wishes Lenkov were still alive, if only so he could rip the man to pieces with his bare hands. A shallow grave isn’t good enough. He should’ve left the body in the woods and let the wolves have him instead.

     "I've killed before. We're soldiers. But I never... I didn't mean to..." Anya's voice cracks, and a sob bubbles up in her throat. She presses her palm hard against her mouth, hard enough that her teeth almost pierce the skin, as if that will keep her tears at bay.

     Nikolai leans forward. Rests a gentle hand on her knee. She looks at him, eyes glistening with tears. His heart shatters in his chest, and the shards of it dig into his lungs with every breath he takes.

     "I won't tell anyone," he says, solemn as the grave. "About what happened, or about you. I swear."

     "Thank you."

     When daylight comes and Dominik finds them huddled together in a quiet corner of the house, Anya’s head resting against Nikolai’s chest as if the steady rhythm of his heartbeat had soothed her to sleep, he knows something immeasurable has changed between them. 

     He nudges Nikolai’s foot and quickly ducks out of the room as his friend begins to stir, and he doesn’t know what secret the pair of them share now, but Dominik swears he will take it to the grave, too.

[soulofapatrick]

The Other Miller - Tommy Miller x Reader

Summary: The Miller brothers and Ellie are late back from patrol; causing you to have a panic attack 

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Panic attacks

Notes: Thank you @phoenixxtay​ for the idea

Y/N’s POV

Patrol are late and they’re never late. Tommy, Joel and Ellie should have been walking through the door over half an hour ago and I can’t just sit here and wait anymore. I’m grabbing my jacket and slipping into my shoes, leaving to find Maria who runs the whole of Jackson. It’s her settlement with the Miller brothers being her left and right hand men, making it one of the most powerful places I have ever stayed since the outbreak. 

I arrived to Jackson about a week or so after Joel and Ellie so the three of us hit it off almost immediately, being in similar boats. Joel was attractive with his tanned skin, weatherworn and face wrinkled with stress; eyes a dark brown colour, somewhere between chocolate and honey; his hair full of very loose curls that are speckled with silver making a salt and pepper style that looks really fucking good on him. He’s tall and broad with strong arms and thick thighs; muscular but it’s all softened a little with age but if anything it makes him hotter. Overall, in my opinion he is the definition of a DILF but he doesn’t know it, barely noticing the way girls flutter their eyelashes at him or hint at getting laid but him and if he does he just wraps an arm around my shoulder. We’re not together but I’d happily pretend to be with him to get the girls away as he would never admit he’s uncomfortable. I thought I’d end up settling down with him and raising Ellie as a family, it seemed like everyone in Jackson thought the same.

Much to my own surprise it ended up being the younger Miller brother. I met him a week after I moved to Jackson, him helping me move the furniture into my small bungalow that he and Joel had scrounged around to find for me. I found myself leant against the counter, nursing a hot coffee, and my eyes were on the way Tommy’s shoulder muscles rippled and fluttered against the tight undershirt he was wearing, his button up hanging out his back pocket at it was too warm to wear both and work. Joel was there, in just his undershirt too but my eyes were glued to the raven haired man and the way his sun kissed glistened with a small sheen of sweat in the April sun streaming through the windows. The way his jeans hug that very pert ass of his, freckles adorning most of his skin visible and my minds wandering to if his thick thighs are covered in them or his chest and soft belly. His jeans fitting his hips and leaving little to the imagine down there when he turns around, the sweat sticking his shirt to his chest and showing me the defined abs. My eyes follow the trail up, watching the way his adams apple bobs when he swallows the lack of freckles around his neck to the small goatee and moustache that frame his plump and pillowy looking lips perfectly. The way they curve up, leading to smile lines and the freckles all over those delicate cheeks, a small crease between his eyebrows and eyes a warm mixture of cognac and russet and-

“Where’s the coffee birdie?” Joel speaks up, snapping me from my daze from Tommy to Joel, realising I was staring and I’d been caught. My body jolts in embarrassment, face turning three shades of scarlet as I fumbled my own mug, nearly dropping it and drawing a beautiful sound from Tommy who came over to help. It was then I realised that I was hopeless for Tommy Miller. The memory always brings a small smile to my lips, even now when I can feel the panic bubbling up as I speed walk to the entrance of Jackson in hope Maria’s there to talk to. 

Maria is in fact there, she’s talking to Jesse and her eyes soften when she spots me making my way over. Jesse pulls me into a hug before I can say anything, knowing I’m panicking by the way my hands are shaking where they’re drawn into my chest between us. He rocks me on the spot and the comfort he gives me seems to open the floodgates, I’m crying and pulling away from the hug to ask Maria, “Where are they? Have we heard anything?” 

“Nothing yet dear,” I can barely hear her over the blood pounding in my ears, my. Heart trying to beat out of my chest. My chest is tight, making me gasp for air as my vision blurs and arms are grasping me as my legs give away below me. The snow is freezing below me, Jesse carding his hands through my hair and trying to soothe me but I can’t think let alone stop crying. My hands shake even more and it’s like I’m looking through a fish-eye lens as my body feels so numb and far away from me, all the ideas of what could have gone wrong bouncing around my skull. The thought of Tommy, Joel or Ellie laid out in the snow, their blood painting it red and their eyes fading and it has bile rising in my throat and I feel like I’m about to pass out and-

The gates grind open, three horses trotting in with three very much alive people. Jesse and Maria and helping me back to my feet, legs trembling as their horses are taken to be bedded down for the night. The pair let me go, expecting me to run to Joel’s open arms but I find my body colliding with Tommy’s, hands gripping the lapels of his fleece jacket and his large hands splay across my sides, eyes searching each others before I’m surging forwards, slamming my lips to his in a panicked kiss, the fear of him going on patrol and never coming back making me act upon my feeling. A surprised gasp escaping him before he moves an arm to wrap around my waist while his other slides up my side to settle on my cheek. 

It’s messy and rushed, teeth clashing and lips crushing but it’s perfect. He’s alive and kissing me back, tasting like coffee and something sweet, my hands finding his curls and his shirt. I can’t help it if I slip my hand into those delicious curls, having wanting to feel them for years since living here and the way his tongue licks over mine has me weak at the knees. I’d kiss him forever but we need oxygen and I’m pulling away, heart still pounding in my chest, body feeling like it’s vibrating with anxiety and I’m smacking that satisfied smile off his face, gasping out, “Don’t ever do that to me again, I thought… I thought…”

“Shhhh, it’s okay baby girl, I’m here…” He moves my hand that was in his hair to his chest where I can feel his heart beating almost just as fast as mine,” Cooing out a soft, “See.” It quells the panic a little but I’m still shaky and it still feels like my knees are gonna give way which I don’t think is going to stop anytime soon. 

“What? No hug or anything for me Birdie?” Joel chuckles me and I’m suddenly remembering where I am and who I’m with. I just kissed Tommy in front of Joel; Ellie; Tommy; Maria and whoever else was watching… Oh my god, I just kissed Tommy! I’m burying my face in his shirt, feeling the light rumble in his chest as he wraps his arms around my shoulders and kisses my hair, letting me know I’m cute and he’s so happy I kissed him. 

I could die here and be happy, knowing Tommy loves me back and that there is a cliche happily ever after out there for me. 

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

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[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

chapter 3

Tags: @cryptic-michael, @illiana-mystery

warnings: hunger games, injury, blood, death, swearing

the next morning, I sat in my tree trying to listen to the sounds of the forest I was in. My main goal was to find the water. The second goal was not run into anyone else. Twelve tributes were still left including me. I played with the necklace around my neck and finally took it off. Flipping it open, I marked a small snowflake into the bark of the tree. If I needed to come back at least I could find safe trees to stay in for the night.

carefully, I climbed over to the end of the limb and looked around me. I jumped over to the next limb when the coast was clear. Making my way towards the trunk, I marked it and kept going. By the time the sun was high in the sky I had made my way to the other side of the weapons pile. I paused and sat in the tree for a minute.

“Fuck.” I muttered as I glanced at the weapons like, remembering the sacrifice blaze had made for me. I wiped at my eyes, knowing the cameras were still watching me. There was a ruffle of foliage below me and I shifted in the tree. “Shit.” I murmured as one of the last careers emerged from the bushes and headed towards the weapons pile. She looked around before taking off towards it. A spear came out of nowhere, emerging from the tree line. My eyes went wide and I froze. The career went down and the cannon went off. There was rustling not far from me and I dropped out of the tree. Hiding in the bushes, I waited to see what would happen.

Bushes rustled as the other person in the trees dropped down and started after me. I turned and ran, clutching the knife in my hand and drawing my sword. Whoever it was didn’t have their spear anymore but it didn’t make me feel any easier. A sharp pain went through my calf as a knife embedded itself there. I kept running, ignoring the burn I felt. I tripped over a root and went sprawling. Turning my body at the last second, I raised my sword. The girl from 11 batted it aside and I slashed at her with my knife. With another hit, my sword fell to the floor. With a twist, I pulled the other knife from my calf and lunged at her with it. Straddling her, I slashed her jugular and clambered off her. I tucked her knife into my belt and grabbed my sword before taking off again.

I heard the water and ran off towards it. Tears of joy started to stream down my cheeks as I saw it. Collapsing on the bank, I cupped my hand and drank while keeping an eye out for the other tributes. The cannon went off and I paused. It sounded again and I frowned. I turned and saw a tree, hurrying to climb up it. My calf burned something awful. Once I was positioned securely, I pulled my leg up to look at it.

“for fucks sake.” I breathed out. I leaned my head back against the tree and closed my eyes. Using the knife, I cut off my sleeves. I pressed one against the wound and tied the other around my leg. It would stop the bleeding and probably would keep my blood trail to a minimum. Marking the tree, I moved to the next one. “Nine more to go.” I examined the new knife I acquired and put the necklace back on. “Thank you snow.” I whispered. The cannon went off again and I sighed. The rest of the day was quiet and I was surprised when the capitol anthem started. I watched as the fallen tributes graced the sky before being replaced with Nero.

“and our countdown continues to (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s birthday. Just twelve more hours to go sweetheart.” He said. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” I stared up at the sky and raised three fingers pressed together. I fell asleep not long after. The next morning, I was woken by a buzzing sound. A drone was hovering near me, the small silver ball dangling under it. I grabbed it and watched as the drone buzzed off.

“what’s this?” I muttered and opened the ball. Proper bandages and salve were nestled inside. There was also a note.

‘apply generously and stay alive - CS’

I looked up at the sky and nodded, knowing he’d see me. I quickly undid my makeshift bandage, wincing as the dried blood pulled at my skin. I rubbed the salve into the wound and bandaged it properly. The cannon went off twice and I started. Six. Climbing back down, I drank some water before venturing into the bushes to find some food. Berries lined the leaves and I carefully inspected them before washing them. Another cannon went off just after I’d heard rustling to my left. The tribute tumbled down at my feet and I dropped the berries that were in my hand. Nightlocke. Washing my hands, I made to climb back into my tree.

“if we can just smoke her ass out.” One tribute was saying. The other one nodded. Looking back at the tribute that had fallen at my feet, I took a deep steadying breath and notched two arrows into my bow.

“fly fast. Fly true.” I whispered before letting go. The two arrows met their marks and the cannon went off twice. Two more to go. Another drone buzzed down next to me and I grabbed the ball. Biting down on the string, I climbed my tree and settled in. Opening it, I smiled at the small piece of cake that was in there.

‘Happy birthday. Win this and we’ll celebrate properly at the capitol, if you’ll have me -CS’

I blushed at the note before tucking into the cake. I sat there for most of the day, trying to form some sort of plan to make it out of here alive. I could wait and hope the other two would kill either or I could go after them and risk my own life. The first option seemed more likely so I decided to stay put. If necessary, I would fight them. Leaning my head back against the tree, I closed my eyes for a second. There was a buzzing sound again and I looked up. The drone wasn't headed towards me. Biting my lip, I tried to follow it as best as I could through the trees. The drone dipped down towards a small cave where the last two tributes were huddled together. The boy and girl from ten looked sick. I stared at them for a while, finally realizing why I hadn't seen them much during the games. They had probably been sick when they entered the Capitol. Or they had gotten sick while there and just started to show signs in the arena. My heart cracked at the sight of the two struggling to open the little silver ball. Once opened, I saw medicine for them. I ducked back among the trees and set up camp not far from them. There was no threat there, therefore no harm in just waiting to see what would happen. Night fell and the Capitol anthem sounded once again. Tributes appeared and disappeared. Nero took the screen.

"Three tributes left. Two deathly ill." He said with a shake of his head. "What will each of them be planning? May the odds be ever in your favor." I raised an eyebrow at the lack of recognition for my birthday but knew it was Snow's doing. Sighing to myself, I leaned back against the tree again.

"I don't know how long they have. And I don't know how long until you all force us together to fight. But I will tell you all this now. I am not going to kill them. Just let them die." I whispered, feeling pretty confident that the Capitol could hear me. And if they couldn't, Snow could. "I am the tribute who saved a Capitol child from the cart. I am the tribute who survived by hiding. I'll be damned if I am going to be forced to kill those sick children." Silence enveloped me as the night took over the arena. A soft buzzing came next to me and I saw the drone come closer. I waited until I was sure it was for me before taking the ball and watching it fly off. Opening it, I saw a note with new bandages for my leg. I redressed my wound first before reading the note.

'So shines a good deed in such a wary world. One day. Then run. -CS'

I pocketed the note with the others and planned. I had one day left before the gamekeepers unleashed something into the arena to end the games. Or force the three of us to fight. Snow didn't know it but he had just given me the perfect plan. We were still close enough to the water that I could go back and fill two of the little balls with Nightlocke. If the two tributes hadn't passed from their illness, I could stage it that they would be able to find the balls. I wouldn't be killing them exactly. Not when they thought it came from someone else. I would still feel guilty but at least their suffering would end. And they wouldn't have to face the horrors of whatever the gamekeepers had come up with. I decided to do it in the morning as I closed my eyes and went to sleep. I was startled awake the next morning by two cannon shots. Jumping to my feet, I looked around. The Capitol anthem started and Nero appeared but it was drowned out by peacemakers coming to collect me. They made me drop my weapons and I held my hands up as they approached. One went to reach for my necklace when I heard him.

"Don't." Snow said. "Remember what happened to the last person who tried to take that necklace from her." I instantly turned towards him as he held out a hand for me to take. I ignored it and threw myself at him, circling my arms around his waist tightly. If he was surprised by the action, he didn't show it. He just hugged me back just as tightly before picking me up. "You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you." He whispered. And I believed him.

[peppermintstarsonamintyway]

This, is definitely overdue.

Alright, hi, hello. Let's talk- as my shittily drawn comic says-

First off, I'm Kaz, I also go by Wolfy, Fifty (from my old tumblr user/tag/whatever), and any variation of Peppermint. One friend who has tumblr as well calls me Pepsi on discord for shits and giggle and another knows my real name. Well, both know, it's just a 50/50 on what they use-

I am a sexuality questioning neurodivergent genderfluid creature, I don't care what pronouns are used for me as long as the person talking to me is comfortable with me. A friend of mine has full access to my tumblr. If you see kny/ds (Kimetsu No Yaiba/Demon Slayer) stuff reblogged on here, it's probably from her because at the time of making this, my current focus is cookie run.

On here I'll be most commonly showing myself as a kitsune with just, a chalk board on hand. Or, well, paw.

Okay, general blog rules and things to know.

No explicit nsfw. You can send asks being curious about certain habits of my ocs and draw whatever kinda art of them you want (do not touch ANY little ones I will block you so fast), but anything in regards to me myself or my friend, absolutely the fuck not.

Oc shipping is perfectly okay with me! Just don't ask about children and keep your fan children to yourself, please and thank you. I do not want asks about my ocs having children in my askbox.

I am VERY much a multishipper, if you see me shipping my ocs with my other ocs, do not assume you can't come in and make an offer of one of your own ocs. Do not be afraid to talk to me about shipping ocs or oc interactions in general.

As long as I'm credited, anyone is more than welcome to use my art for whatever the fuck they want. If it's something questionable, I'd prefer you keep it to yourself, but otherwise, go ahead. Although I'd be surprised if anyone wanted to use my art for anything-

I do NOT. I repeat, do NOT. Take commissions. I'll take requests to draw ocs and other such things, alongside canon characters, but I do NOT take commissions. Requests will really only be sketches, occasionally colored and sometimes legitimately finished because I had the energy for it.

I feel as though this should be obvious, but I'll say it anyways, pro-shippers, racists, lgbtq+phobics, assholes of generally any kind, especially those obsessed with politics, aren't fucking welcome here. This blog is here for me to look at content from people I like and affectionately blast my mutuals with whatever cracked up shit I come up with. If you can't help but be a piece of shit in my safe space, you can go fuck yourself.

Be kind. I don't care who you are, I don't care what you came here for, but if you can't bare to spare a shred of kindness when you talk to me, I don't want you interacting with my blog. You can criticize my art, the way I write, the way I talk, just how much I ramble, but if you can't be nice about it, I'd rather you say nothing at all.

Alright, that should be that.

If you wanna contact me, you can contact me on here through tumblr's messaging system, but you can also contact me on discord at .peppermintstars! If you're gonna friend me on discord, please warn me before you do. I don't have the best experience with randomly being friended and I may end up blocking you on instinct- I do have a twitter although I don't use it so I won't bother linking it until I start using it.

I hope to eventually start streaming sometime this year, be it with or without a 2d or 3d model, so if you wanna support me, you can find me on twitch and youtube!

I'll also give a list of the media I'm into and what you can expect me to be reblogging! Or at least looking at-

Cookie Run! Primarily ocs. (I don't know what the fuck is going on in the story rn and I need to get caught up-)

Persona 5 Royal and in subsequent, the Persona series in general.

Demon Slayer! (Or Kimetsu No Yaiba if you prefer to call it that.)

Pokemon. I like to watch the animes and if I can I'll get whatever new game comes out, even if I get it a bit late-

How To Train Your Dragon! Yes I'm still into HTTYD even years after the first movie came out. That shit ain't going no where.

Honkai: Star Rail and Genshin Impact! Although the interest for these has diminished and isn't ever really consistent, I may as well list them because I either do play them or have played them.

Cult of The Lamb! I like Narilamb. I like Narinder. I've a thing for powerful higher beings in general okay-

Dungeons and Dragons! If you need a dm or an extra player for whatever reason, I am more than open to joining a campaign.

Dark Souls! And other souls-like games from FromSoftware- ties into the D&D thing because I get way too many ideas watching playthroughs of those games.

God of War! Again, the liking of powerful higher beings- also ties into D&D.

The Resident Evil series! Leon Kennedy is hot and Ethan Winters was a good dad.

FNAF! Alongside other such mascot horror games- Poppy Playtime included (mostly just for Dogday.)

Mythology and folklore! Hopefully evident by the fact I chose a kitsune as my persona on here- also connects into D&D again to no one's surprise.

That should be everything I can remember off the top of my head!

That's all, thank you for reading, have a good day, and here's a sleepy kitsune for your troubles!

[baconlyswiss]

🐍 Naga AU Prologue

         It’s here, the first piece of the fanfic you’ve all been waiting for!

DISCLAIMER: This was written by my dear friend JGDraws, who I deeply appreciate for helping me make this fic a reality. Thank ya so much dude!

✨Enjoy~!✨

Infant arc:

Mara gently stroked the shell of the egg by her side. It had only been a few months since they had found them, but she could not help but feel a love for this unborn thing. The child of one of their fallen protectors.

The city was still recovering from the night their king went mad and tried to ascend to godhood by slaughtering almost every child in the city. But he was finally dethroned and struck down by their guardian deities, though all but one of the eldest among them were slain in the battle. 

As they were picking up the pieces, Mara had found what she and the elders believed to be the home of the Naga Guardians Dawn and Dusk. There they discovered two eggs, their future children. Being barren, but still being considered a mother by many of the children, the elders agreed that it was the will of the gods that Mara and her husband, Pundi, would raise them.

Pundi came in, carrying a basket of fresh biscuits. Even though she knew his jolly self would eat most of them, she could not help but smile as she saw that loving twinkle in his eyes as they met.

"Mara, my love, you have hardly left those eggs' side since they were given to us."

Mara smiled. "I do not want to leave them for fear this miracle may just disappear." She sighed, those dark, sad thoughts returning. "Especially after..."

Pundi knelt beside her and pulled her in gently. "We will always remember them. Even if we never saw their face." He brushed a few tears from her eyes. "The gods have given us another chance."

"And we thank them every day."

The egg beneath her hand began to shiver. Mara gasped and drew back as Pundi stood.

"It is happening!" She exclaimed. Pundi was already in the kitchen preparing a pitcher of water with clean rags. The egg jumped and jostled before a little orange hand burst from it. Pundi immediately wet one of the rags and set it in Mara's outstretched hands. A little shoulder emerged next and soon a little orange head as well. Their head shone like the sun. They tumbled out of the egg and Mara set to cleaning them off. As she was finishing, the infant opened their wide eyes and looked up at both of them.

"Mama and papa?" He asked. Mara nodded, tears streaming around a joyous smile. The infant leapt into her arms. "Mama!" He cried. 

The other egg began to shake as well. Mara handed the infant to Pundi, who was received with the same enthusiastic joy. Mara saw a little blue hand break through and begin to part the shell, but as soon as her shadow fell over the opening, it retreated back inside. She knelt next to it and peered inside. A similar infant held his eyes close to the opening, watching her intently.

She extended a hand with a calm, gentle smile. "Come out, little one. We're all excited to meet you." The eyes glanced between her and her hand before drawing away and that little blue hand slowly reached out to touch hers. As soon as their fingers touched, he latched on with a rather impressive strength. As she started to clean him off, he slowly began to curl his little tail around her arm. She finished wiping him down and held him close in her arms. He looked at her for a moment before curling into her bosom. 

The orange one leaned back in Pundi's arms. "Mama, what my name?"

Mara looked up to the tapestry on their wall and smiled before looking back down to him. "You are Sun." She looked to the one in her arms. "And you will be Moon."

"Name... Moon?" He asked. Mara touched his little nose. 

"Yes, child. You are Moon."

"Am Moon." He said before smiling and curling in tighter. "Moon loves mama."

"My name Sun!" The other proclaimed before wrapping his arms around Pundi's neck. "Sun loves Papa and Mama!"

[rayofmisfortune]

1, 5, and 16 for the dca ask game! :D

HAHA HI! Thank you sm for asking :3

1. How did you get here?

     Through fanfiction mostly. Had sb on my tiktok fyp basically the second it came out and the dca content people made just took my attention. Though I have watched people play through the game on live streams and first learned of the dca's existence through that. The early sb fandom was full of theories on the goobers, since they were new and something people have never seen before in fnaf, people went ham with theories and I was happy to be there to join them on that ride. I remember I read a dca fic I really liked before the end of december 2021, unfortunately at the time the author already discontinued it, but it was very well written, I think Moon was distracting Chica by having a cook off with her so Gregory could get the Vanny virus out of her? Don't remember the specifics, I'd have to dig to find it. There may have been more to it, but it was so long ago I can't remember kdnfnfn

5. If you make content, what's your favorite piece you've contributed?

     I guess you could say I make content, yeah. I'm more confident in my writing, so that's what I'll go with. My favorite? Weeeell as of now? Probably the first one-shot I wrote of tsams Ruin Eclipse 'New year new me (or is it really?), I like that one a lot and it was so much fun to write as well as get a grasp on the characters. But if we're talking purely dca? I'm gonna be very specific on this, but currently, it's the 1st chapter of 'Found your house up in flame'.

16. What's something in the fandom you'd like to see more of?

      Something I'd like to see more of huh? Well that's a tough one... mmm I guess that would be more ask blogs maybe? Those are always fun. Getting to know the character through 4th wall break interactions, while also feeling like you yourself have become a part of the story by being an anon who's ask has been answered. Though, I get that ask blogs need proper engagement from their audience's side so not everyone can make and run one. I'm mostly drawing this from Shandzii's ask Sun and Moon series, loved that. Ofc there are more, like no duh there are, au ask blogs are fun as well, like... the dcandyland blog, the sheer amount of content on that blog is astounding to me, but people are engaging and gchocolate is creating a story currently shrouded in mystery.

      What else... well, I'm always a fan of unique takes on the dca while taking something from canon and expanding on it to explain it or make it even more of a part of the story. Such as there literally being other pizzaplexes in the fnaf universe, or the dca originally being an actor/performer in the theater, the handprints on the dca's back, Moon just spawning out of nowhere and causing chaos and so on!

[jaimebluesq]

And now for something a little original...

That post by @ibijau made me think of something I haven't touched in years - so in case anyone's interested, here's a bit from something original I once was working on, an idea about the lives of the people left behind after the 'upper crust' of humankind escape from the dying planet. (Thank you for making me think of it again!)

~~~

I barely pause in my steps as a trembling shakes the ground below me. Tremors are all too common now to be worth noting. I instinctively dodge a falling potted plant and continue on my way as if nothing strange had happened, not even flinching when it shatters upon the cracked sidewalk.

Arguing voices to my left draw my attention and I roll my eyes as I see two of my neighbours up at arms again. It seems Jayden Pratt was stealing from Kelly Ng's shop again. Why she bothers, I don't know. Nobody has much cared for laws or even money since The Great Abandonment, but there are still many like her who cling to some semblance of how society was before we were told the Earth was going to die.

The announcement came ten years ago, and I'll admit that I missed it. A new video game had just come out, Dragon Effect X, and I'd dedicated a whole week to playing it through every possible outcome. Imagine my surprise when I came out of my self-enforced seclusion only to find out that the world was going to end. Something to do with the core and the magnetic shield... I'm no scientist, I think I was lucky to pass high school science (though I was pretty decent at math). Either way, the world is going to be dead soon enough, though we don't know exactly when.

Of course, an announcement like that was quickly followed by a scaling up of the space race, now that money was no longer much of an object (because honestly, who cares about accumulating little scraps of paper when we're all going to die?) and that governments finally had something more important to do than starting wars and fighting over natural resources. Several countries around the world worked to create “Arks” which would take humanity into space to find a new home. They called it “The Great Departure”, and when the time came, they chose “only the best humanity had to offer” to populate the Arks.

They left two years ago. Those of us left behind are still a little bitter about it.

I still shake my head at some of the reasons they gave for denying people a place. There are conspiracies floating around that there was still room left over when the Arks left Earth, that many more of us could have gone, but those running the show didn't want us to be part of the gene pool any longer. Fuck them.

I think there was only one Ark that allowed those in same-sex relationships and those who were transgendered, because all the others either outright wanted to cut them off or claimed they couldn't breed and therefore couldn't advance humanity. Then of course there were the “coincidental” Arks that just happened to carry mostly white people. And how could I forget the disqualification of anyone with any sort of disability, whether physical or psychiatric? Last but not least was the reason I was left behind – I started menopause early, and as a result, I'm a 39 year old woman who can't breed, and therefore has no benefit to humanity. Oh, of course there were those who were left behind because they were criminals or weren't rich enough, or just didn't know the right people. For every one of us left here, there is a reason why we were apparently “not good enough”.

I wonder if there was ever a time the Earth was more united as when those Arks left, and those of us still here looked on them with a mix of awe and anger and shame. There were some who couldn't even bring themselves to watch the live streams online or on TV. That unity only lasted a very short time, maybe an hour or two, before people filled the streets, invaded the buildings and homes of those who had left, and took them for themselves. After all, the original owners weren't going to be needing them.

There was a general feeling of anarchy, ignorance of the rules and laws that had been the way of the world in so many places, as people who had been disenfranchised took back their fair share. Contrary to what so many movies and books had predicted, there actually wasn't much violence of the person-on-person kind. After all, we were all in the same boat, all equal in this respect. The people we hated were gone. Me, I strolled into the nearest Best Buy and stole the most expensive gaming laptop I could find and copies of every PC game I'd ever wanted. It was beautiful.

After a while, though, things settled down. The initial anger had expended itself, and we had to move on. Well, most of us; there were some who decided they didn't want to wait for the Earth to kill them, and chose their own time and place. But for the rest, there were enough of us who knew about how to keep power grids going, for example, that we could keep the infrastructure running, at least for the things that enough people wanted to keep up. The roads may not be the best kept, but we have lights and internet, food and shelter.

For many of us, that's enough. For many, that's more than they had before.

Jayden, for example, had lived on the street, a runaway who'd escaped an abusive household and fallen into a life of poverty. Now, he's taken over a nice condo and steals whatever food he can get his hands on, like he did from Kelly's small grocery. She knows she can't stop him, there isn't anyone willing to enforce the laws, but she harps on him anyway. It must give her some sense of normalcy, which I can't really blame. Though I don't think she knows that he's the one who's been dropping parcels on her doorstep, little trinkets he finds while going through empty homes. It's his own little way of showing appreciation for the food he takes, though he'd never admit it if confronted about it.

How do I know this? I've gotten to know most of the people in my neighbourhood in a way I hadn't before the Great Abandonment. Not that I wasn't friendly – I was a social service worker before all this came to pass – but there had been a divide, a need for privacy that had changed a little with this new camaraderie with my fellow remainders. They come to me often now, seeking me out to just talk or to work through some feelings on their predicament, or hell, on their latest relationship. Life hasn't ended for us, even if we walk on a ticking time bomb.

I walk up to a narrow townhouse and knock on the door, holding back a chuckle as a crotchety old voice sounds annoyed as it invites me in.

“How's the back feeling, Gus?” I call out as I step inside.

“Like crap, what kind of stupid question is that?” Gus Berkowitz comes out of his kitchen in his bathrobe, back hunched over and hands gripping the sides of his walker. “Is that what they taught you in that cheap college? Ask an old man stupid questions and maybe he'll die sooner?”

“How'd you guess?” I joke as I pick up a couple of glasses from the living room's coffee table. “Though I see it isn't working yet.”

“I'm too stubborn to die. Not even the Earth will do me in.”

The conversation is familiar, almost an exact replication of my last visit, but I don't care. It's nice to see him this spry, and he always keeps me on my toes. I gather more dishes before walking back into the kitchen, Gus' eyes following me as I make my self-appointed rounds. Gus lives alone, having been widowed several years back, and both of his children have families of their own on one of the Arks. He was too old and frail for the Ark, they said. They must have never seen him play Parcheesi.

I do the dishes and a little more cleaning, check to see if his supply of food is sufficient until my next visit, then stay for a couple of games of Parcheesi. I never “let” him win – the bastard always kicks my ass fair and square. When it's time to say goodbye, he says “good riddance”, but I can tell he doesn't mean it. It's lonely here for him, without family and with an attitude that tends to push most people away. If he really hated my visits, I wouldn't be here right now as he'd have kicked me out long ago. I promise to return and leave before he can think up some excuse to keep me here.

I like to help, but I can't stay forever.

As I walk away from Gus' place, another tremor begins, but this one much stronger than the last. While not unusual, this one gives me pause because it gets pretty hard to keep on my feet with the strength of the ground's shaking. There's nothing around me that could fall down on my head so I get down to my hands and knees to wait it out. The moment I'm crouched, however, my body is overtaken by a stabbing pain the likes I haven't felt in a very long time. There, below my stomach, it feels just like the kind of damned period cramps that would lay me up sick from work. What the hell is going on? The pain ends almost as suddenly as it began, and only then do I realize that the trembling has stopped. I take a few moments to gather myself together before slowly getting up to my feet, worried that the pain would start again the moment I'm upright. It doesn't, thank goodness.

“You okay, Val?” It's Jayden, a rare look of concern upon his face as he steps toward me. “Did something fall on you?”

“I'm all right.” I put on my best comforting smile to waylay the concern, and I think it allays whatever fears he may have had. “Just a little shaken from the tremor. You doing okay?”

“Oh yeah, I'm great,” he shrugs with bravado. Always the brave kid. “Never better. You take care now, Val.”

He walks off in the direction of his apartment building and I turn to head back toward mine. My hand absently presses against my lower abdomen, as if pressing enough could tell what had just happened to me. I quickly shake off the thoughts and focus on getting myself home.

It's getting dark and I've got cats to feed, after all.

~*~*~*~

Sometimes I wonder why I still get up in the morning. There's no real 'job' for me to go to, and again, the planet is dying, so why even bother? Then again, I have four cats that won't let me not get up. They can wait, though, as I get to the bathroom and take my time with my normal bathroom stuff, taking my tablet so I can play a few hands of solitaire while I do my thing. The cats stare at me, so I occasionally stare back between hands, until I'm finally done and ready to feed the little suckers. I love them, they're great company, but can be annoying as hell when they're waiting to get fed.

I've never been a coffee person so I start the morning off with a cup of peppermint tea and a toasted bagel slathered in peanut butter. Bagels are a bit of a luxury for me – I can bake some basic bread from a recipe, but bagels are beyond me – and I'm lucky that one of the neighbours I go visit knows how to make them. Mrs. Epstein says the recipe is from her grandmother, but I swear I've seen a recipe book in her place with a bookmark where the bagels would be. It doesn't matter, nor does whether they're good or not. They remind me of the old days, and that's what counts.

I start walking toward my laptop, passing by paintings and photographs on the walls, but pausing when I spot one framed certificate. Valerie Fisher, Social Service Worker. Getting my college diploma had been a big deal, at least for me at the time. That woman, the one I used to be, had no idea what was coming in life. At times, I envy her.

I love this apartment. I never 'upgraded' like so many people did, though I can't say the same for my furniture and electronics. Maybe it's the nice view of the river, or the neighbours, or just that I'm so comfortable here that I can't picture myself living anywhere else. Either way, it's home.

I sit down at my desk and check my email. There are only a couple that need a response, so I pop those out before moving on to some of my favourite forums. My friend Jean-Paul started a thread on one of his favourite topics, the need to create a new government to replace those that left, but he isn't getting much support. Most people associate the government with those that left us behind and much prefer our current anarchic state. Besides, it's not like there will be much time left for a government to govern anyway. Jean-Paul's a good guy, though, and means well. He and his husband Robbie have left me a standing invitation to their regular Saturday “Cards Against Humanity” game night, and I attend more often than not.

My internet surfing is interrupted by a knock at the door, and before I've even turned away from my laptop, my door opens. It's my best friend Vivienne, her arms heavy with groceries and a cheerful smile upon her face. “You're going to burn your eyes out on that thing, child,” she says in a Jamaican accent. “Now help me put these away. You know I'm not getting any younger.”

Viv is about twenty years older than me and moved from Kingston, Jamaica to Ottawa, Ontario when she was in her mid-twenties. She likes to tell me stories about her early nursing days and all the areas she worked before settling on being an obstetric nurse. She also occasionally talks about her boyfriend in Boston, a man I'm not entirely sure actually exists outside of her own mind, but so long as she believes in him, I'll listen.

She's also taken it upon herself to make sure that I'm well taken care of. As she puts it, “You spend so much time taking care of everyone else, you'd let yourself starve.” She's probably right.

I get up to take one of the bags from her and lead the way to the kitchen. “Thanks again, Viv. You know you don't have to do this, though I appreciate it.”

“I know I don't, that's why I do it.” As we put away groceries, she tells me all the latest neighbourhood gossip: who's dating whom, who's pregnant and who's trying, and who's been having a difficult time lately. While the latter isn't entertaining, she knows it's what I want to hear most. Those are the people that I'll try to pay a visit to later. “Oh, and I spotted Grace Brunet, of all people, in Britannia Park.” She pauses, her nose scrunching up. “Building something.”

I stop mid-motion. Grace was not the kind of person to do manual labour. She'd been a crown attorney, had nearly landed a spot on an Ark but had only just lost out in the end. To this day, she says it was either because she's half native, or because one of those making the final decisions had been someone she'd helped the police bring to justice years ago on charges of embezzlement. Maybe it was both, but either way, Grace was not a hands-on woman. And now she was building something.

“I'll go check on her later,” I promise and Viv nods.

After the food is put away, we sit for brunch and catch up, Viv telling me the latest news from her boyfriend and I tossing the occasional scrap of food to my cats, who do excellent impressions of animals who never get fed. I have a brief moment of contemplation, remembering that I wouldn't have moments like this if I'd been on an Ark, might never have gotten to know Viv the way I have. There's a pang in my heart, and I don't know if it's because I'd rather be with the saved or happy to not be there. The moment goes away almost as soon as it comes and I respond to Viv as if my mind had never left the conversation.

Despite the tremors, despite the fear and the unpredictability of our own survival... yeah, I'm happy.

~*~*~*~

[highbeamtf]

My Intro To DOOM

I've been sitting on this for a while, had it written in a notebook and I definitely want to share this. As I mentioned in my intro, I've become a wee bit obsessed with the DOOM game universe, something I dabbled in as a child when DOOM and DOOM II first came out. I vaguely remember my mom trying to keep me from playing the OG DOOM game saying it was too violent for me as a young child. The pixelated graphics however didn't exactly make me think it was terribly violent back then. I believe I played a little of Quake I as well but I don't remember as much of that as I do the first two DOOM games. I do however remember drawing pictures of demons based on some of the game designs and it's a shame I don't still have those. I didn't really touch much else in the DOOM game universe until 2021 which I will get into shortly, but I do remember seeing some things from the DOOM III game and watching that live action movie with The Rock and Karl Urban (Karl is one of my top fav actors by the way). I didn't mind the live action movie, though it had a severe lack of demons and no real interactions with Hell which were disappointing. The demon designs that were featured though were kinda neat, but again it would've been better to have more demons, less humans. I have similar thoughts when it comes to the Bayverse Transformers movies which should've been more bots, less humans as well. Earlier this year I discovered the DOOM Annihilation movie too which at least that had a Hell scene and more demons, but I almost put that into a fan movie category as far as quality goes. They could've played more with the Cultist ideas too and I would've liked it more. In October 2021 I got pulled back into the DOOM universe when a favorite streamer started playing DOOM 2016. Not only was her gameplay and chat interaction a lot of fun to watch but I was fascinated by the graphics and a few of the characters, particularly the mystery behind Dr. Samuel Hayden and VEGA. After seeing the full playthrough I decided I would have to give the game a try someday myself. Fast forward to April 2022 for my Twitch stream anniversary where I decided that would be my first experience with playing the 2016 game myself. I was awful at FPS gameplay and set the game difficulty to the lowest setting for my first time back into FPS in years, but I got hooked. The soundtrack was absolute fire, the graphics were visually fun, the environments made me want to explore, and despite how often I died I still enjoyed the gameplay itself. By the end of that game I already knew I'd have to buy the sequel DOOM Eternal and later the two DLCs, The Ancient Gods (TAG) Part 1 and 2. I thought the graphics in 2016 still held up in 2022. Diving straight into DOOM Eternal and its faster paced, hyped gameplay was a little crazy but I realized that I was becoming hooked. There was so much lore in Eternal and I started pondering my own theories while playing through the game, then as soon as I completed it I dove into all the YouTube DOOM lore videos and any other articles I could find about everything. I keep going back to replay levels, stare at the beautiful environments, I have binge listened to the 2016 OST and the Eternal/DLC soundtrack videos on YouTube (since nothing official exists) so many times. I've gone back into DOOM 2016 and replayed some levels and arcade mode as well, and a few members of my Twitch community and I play some of the PVP there as well. Needless to say, after completing those I decided I'd go back to the original game and replay every single DOOM game on my Twitch stream for fun. So far I'm pretty far into DOOM II and I'm anxious to go thru all the content that's out there. Screenshot below from the end of DOOM 2016. I kinda really, really want a replica of the Demonic Crucible, please and thank you... And a Dr. Samuel Hayden action figure...

[missvelvetsstuff]

Fridays Place

Bucky Barnes x reader

Mob AU

Chapter 10

Warnings: swearing, little angst, little fluff

It had been 2 months since the incident with Brock and Friday still wouldn't leave the house. She refused to talk about any of it at all, with anyone. Nat and Wanda both tried to reach her and get her to open up but whenever they mentioned anything about it she clammed up. Friday had reread every book in her house, watched every movie and TV show on all of the streaming services, cleaned and reorganized the entire house but still refused to go outside.

Nat and Wanda had run out of ideas. If the horses and riders wouldn't motivate her, they were stuck.

One afternoon she was sitting at the dining room table looking at the mail and bills, trying to figure out how there was money left in the stables account and where the $5k donation had come from, when someone knocked at her door. Friday looked up, confused because those she allowed in the house knew they didn't need to knock and everyone else knew she wouldn't answer, until she heard someone calling her, a high sweet voice that she hadn't heard in months.

"Miss Friday? It's Becca. Becca, I mean Rebecca Barnes. Won't you please come talk to me? I miss you. Miss MJ is very nice but shes not you"

Friday cringed. Who let Becca get up to her front door? Riders were supposed to stay in the barn and arena area. There was another knock.

"Please Miss Friday? I just want to say hello. Everyone misses you. Destry is so sad without you. I'm sorry you were hurt but no one bad is here. Promise."

Friday sat at the table and stared at the door, unable to move or even speak. The door started to open and Becca poked her head in. She smiled when she saw Friday, until she heard her name and was pulled back outside.

"Becca, I told you not to bother Friday. She's uh she's not feeling well" Friday heard Bucky's deep voice.

"But Daddy, I just want to make her feel better. You'll see." And she twisted out of his grip and went inside.

Becca looked at Friday with sad eyes and then at her own feet. "I know Miss Sharon and Mr Brock hurt you and I'm sorry, she hurt me too. She's my mom but shes not nice and hurt my dad too. Daddy promised that they won't be back so you're safe."

Then she brought her hand from behind her back. She held a paper out to Friday who took it from her gently. Friday looked at the drawing in awe. It was clearly her and Destry and better that she would have expected from a child Becca's age.

Becca stammered nervously. "It's you and Destry doing your dressing thing"

Friday chuckled softly "Dressage"

Becca laughed, "Yeah, that thing. Uncle Steve likes to draw and has been teaching me when he has time. I tried to make it nice for you."

Friday smiled with tears in her eyes "It's beautiful, Rebecca. Thank you." And pulled the girl in for a hug.

Bucky smiled from the doorway, drinking in the sight of two of his favorite people. He didn't understand how he could miss Friday so much when he barely met her before everything blew up. His mother had looked at him knowingly when he told her about the woman who had so much of an impact on him and Becca, she knew Friday must be someone special to her son by the look in his eyes and that dopey smile.

Friday pulled away from Becca and tried to hide her tears but Becca held Bucky's handkerchief out to her which made Friday and Bucky both laugh. Friday looked up startled when she heard him, like a deer in headlights. Bucky smiled gently at her "I'm so sorry, I tried to stop her but she's very determined." He shrugged "She, I mean we, we all, you know all of us missed you." His face flushed as he looked away.

Friday smiled "it's alright. It's nice to see some new faces." Then looked down "I just can't go, you know, out there" her hand waved towards the door.

Bucky looked at her sadly "I understand"

Friday looked up at him sharply "I doubt that" she scoffed.

He grimaced "Well, no, not exactly but when I came home from Afghanistan, I wouldn't leave the house for months. Made my mom crazy. I just didn't feel safe. After what I saw, what I had to do" he blanched "and trying to figure out how to do things with a prosthetic" he waved his left arm "I didn't feel like I could protect myself. I was afraid to lose any more of myself."

Friday nodded "You saw what they did. I know Br- I know he's gone but Hydra isn't. Sharon somehow made bail and has disappeared. Who knows about Dot. They got into my feed before so the stable isn't safe. Not for me. None of them have been in here and Tony turned this house into a fortress. I feel safe here."

Bucky nodded "I do understand. You know Tony and I worked on securing your entire property. Fort Knox would be an easier target. No one is getting in if you don't want them. I could take you around and show you, if you let me. I'm armed so no one is getting near you unless you approve." He was so earnest that Friday could barely say no before Becca chimed in.

"We'll keep you safe, Miss Friday, I promise. Destry would be so happy to see you."

Friday looked at their almost identical blue puppy eyes and couldn't bring herself to say no. She felt her gut clench before she spoke. "Ok but I'm coming back here if it gets to be too much."

Bucky nodded "Of course, Doll. We'll follow your lead."

Becca nodded "Of course"

"You two are ganging up on me, not fair." Friday grumbled as she pulled her boots on.

Bucky looked confused when he noticed something covered by a cloth by the front door but smiled as he opened the door for Friday and Becca followed. "We both care a lot about you."

They stood abreast with Friday in the middle, holding Bucky's right arm while Becca held her other hand.

MJ saw the three of them and nudged Peter, who smiled when he saw.

Friday stopped when they were all on her porch. She looked around, trying to assess any potential threats. When she didn't see any she exhaled and relaxed a little but not completely. Her stomach clenched and she forced herself to breathe and tried to talk herself down she mumbled 'its just the porch, its safe here. No one can get in or get to me unless I want them to. I'm safe. I'm ok.'

Bucky looked at her, concerned "Are you ok? Do you want to stop here ? We'll do whatever you are comfortable with."

Friday popped one her candies in her mouth, closed her eyes for a minute and practiced her breathing until her heart calmed down.

"No, I'll be alright" they faced the barn but when she tried to take the step off of the porch, Friday froze. Her eyes opened wide, heart went back to racing, hand clenching Bucky's arm like she would be ripped away if she let go. She stopped breathing and tears began to fall.

"Doll, I'm pretty tough but I need you to ease up on my arm a little. I've got you" Bucky teased.

When Friday didn't respond or ease up on his arm he turned to look at her. "Hey, sweetheart, are you ok?" She still didn't respond.

"Becca, can you go help Peter and MJ so I can help Miss Friday."

When she was out of earshot he returned to facing Friday.

"Friday, honey, I need you to come back. You're safe here with me. I won't let anything hurt you."

He patted her cheek gently and realized she wasn't breathing "Come on, breathe for me. Friday, please" he begged.

Friday blinked and shook her head, backing up from Bucky. "What, what happened? I fffelt, I ssaw, I."

"I know, its ok. Just remember to breathe" he placed her hand on his chest so she could feel his heartbeat. "Inhale......exhale.....inhale......exhale. That's better. Are you ok?"

Friday shook her head "No, I'm not and I don't feel like I ever will be again." Her face fell and she started sobbing into Bucky's chest. "I'm broken. Soiled. Ruined. I don't know how you can even stand to look at me without getting sick, I know I can't."

Bucky stroked her back and tried to shush her. "That's not true. You aren't what that sick bastard did to you. That's all him. You are the caring, passionate, intelligent woman that does so much for everyone around you." They stood there, Friday holding him in a death grip as he tried to soothe her. When she was able to stop crying, she looked at him in awe. Her eyes were red but there was a brief sparkle that had been missing.

He smiled softly "Why don't we just sit on the swing, right here. I'll be a close or far as you want me to be but I'm always here."

Friday gave him a small smile. This mobster and womanizer isn't supposed to be so caring and gentle. He certainly wasn't going to make him fall in love with her, no chance.

She sat on the swing, patting the spot next to her for him to sit. When he sat he put his arm along the back of the swing, she leaned back into it She sat and looked around at the grassy patch that was surrounded by Peggy's roses. Friday was much better with 4 legged creatures than plants but she read all about caring for roses so she could take care of them, for Peggy, and they were still thriving. The sun was setting and dappled sunlight streamed through the trees.

Friday heard hoofbeats and turned towards the barn to see Peter leading Destry up to see her. Almost being shoved aside by a horse who missed his person. Destry ducked his head as he stepped onto the porch and Friday couldn't stop laughing. MJ almost cried at the sound that used to be so common but had been absent since.

Friday stood up and went to move Destry off of the porch. She sat on the end of the porch, her feet swinging, and spoke softly to her horse who rubbed his face against hers making soft breathy noises back. She cried a little but not as bad. She wasn't sure if she felt better or was out of tears. They sat like this for 15 minutes until the sun had gone down and the outdoor lights were buzzing in the background.

Friday kissed Destry on his muzzle "You need to get to bed, pal. Don't worry, I'll see you tomorrow."

Peter put Destry up for the night with a smile on his face. Maybe this guy was good for Friday. Maybe he wasn't a criminal scumbag like Brock. Peter felt his blood pressure going up just thinking about Brock and had to take a few breaths to calm down.

After making sure it was ok for them to stay, Bucky made pasta and sauce with garlic bread and salad for Friday, Becca and himself. Becca was so happy to have them together she dominated the conversation, going on about learning dressage and the kind of horse she wanted and how Friday needed a barn cat to keep the horses company and on, barely stopping to catch a breath until Bucky gently reminded her to eat.

Friday smiled softly, Bucky seemed so different than he was when they first met. Gentler and a little unsure instead of the cocky mobster who cornered her in her office. Seemed like forever ago. She looked at him and found him staring at her, only taking his eyes off of her to take bites of food. She raised her eyebrow questioningly, Bucky blushed.

"Sorry" he mumbled, taking a gulp of wine. "I guess Becca isn't the only one who missed you."

Chapter 11

[the-blind-paladin]

My little light (Lunter fanfic part 1)

TW; Lunter(the horror), permanent injury, it gets dark towards the end heads up on that. I would say blood warning but looking back I never really wrote much about blood itself so take it with a grain of salt. Also vomiting at the end but it's not graphic and tell me if I need to add more warnings.

This is made for my friend's au/rp. Where during the heat of combat and not at his sharpest Hunter makes a terrible mistake. //

It was hard to say when it started. Or well he knew when it started back when his uncle had first tasked him with bringing the owl house and its residence to face justice.

This led to him getting into more and more fights with the owl lady and her apprentice. At the start, these fights were pretty dramatic, neither side knowing which would win, but as time went on they quickly lost their dramatic flair. It was clear the owl lady would force them to dip if they were losing and he would run if he was losing. However with that dramatic flare being killed the human had started to chat more during their fights. Annoying, unbearably annoying at least at first as she seemed quick to understand he wasn't going to give up and in turn, he learned they also weren't about to give in. Meaning they were just going to keep fighting each other, as the more the human and he would bark back and forth the more he came to realize she was starting to predict his attacks and doge effectively, in turn, he could almost guess what she was going to do next. Almost down to the exact glyph. As their attention slowly shifted from actually hitting eachother and dogeing the others attacks, to focusing on their bantering.

'idiot' she'd tease when he clearly missaimed, singed the tip of her hair.

'smartass' he'd growl back knowing full well if he had aimed any better it could've done more damage.

'I am smart, thank you for noticing. ' he tried to doge her plant glyph only to be wrapped up.

'that's not what smartass means' he burned vines away getting back into his defensive pose.

'so what? You're going to be a smartass to show me what it means?'

'no?... yes?... shut up and give up already' and she was blowing a raspberry while her mentor watched from nearby haggling with a shop clerk. Growling he managed to throw her feet from underneath her. only for her to temporarily blind him with a light glyph. Rubbing his eyes he got his sight back in time to teleport out of the way of her icey attack, with some help from Flapjack.

This is how their fights went, back and forth in both chatter and attacks. It was only after winning, or losing and returning back home did it hit him everything that had happened during each fight. Once again they had escaped and once again he was going to have to face his uncle empty handed.

Or mostly empty handed he had noticed sometimes during their most recent fights the human would drop an item or two. A small flower, a piece of candy, a small drawing of flapjack, each time the item was different and yet always so small and delicate, like she was leaving them on purpose. It made him almost wish he could return to those small fights, just so he could see her doging his attacks while laughing insults and comebacks at him whenever he did something stupid or misstepped... why? why had he started to gain these confusing feelings? why did she leave the small gifts for him? why couldn't she just hand herself in? if she handed herself in he knew he could get his uncle to forgive her previous actions. Maybe not the owl lady but surely his uncle wouldn't care about the owl lady's apprentice? She was just a human after all.

That had been how it had started constant fights to the point Luz and he could fight each other without thinking about it trusting muscle memory while chatting and bickering. Except that wasn't when it started... not really. Rather it had started when his Uncle had gotten fed up with his new constant streams of failure as he decided that if he couldn't win by himself, then he should have some backup. It was becoming more obvious he was getting upset by the idea the owl house was winning against him. It wouldn't help his reputation if his top guard couldn't take down a single magicless witch and her human pet. Even if it was more complicated than that... was it?

So that was where it had truly started with him standing in the forest having a bad feeling. The few guards around him and worse his uncle obviously annoyed while standing nearby, having joined to make sure he didn't fail again. Before he could try and find a reason for them to call this off he heard a certain witch land nearby, or well crash land. Heading over he noticed a few guards already charging in to try and secure them immediately.

Holding back he knew it was a bad idea to charge as he made his way around to attack from behind. Seeing the human taking out the few guards easily he attacked her silently. As he expected she saw him at the least second giving her just enough time to dodge and send her own counterattack that he was able to knock out of her hand using the end of his staff.

It was a song and dance as she rolled backwards to avoid his next attack. As he focused in on the human he could hear the owl lady taking down the other guards but he couldn't care lesd. His focus was on trying to get Luz to back down as quickly as he could without hurting her. His uncle was nearby and he knew if he failed again he would get involved and that was something Hunter didn't need to happen. Especially not if he decided to hurt Luz.

"Woah, someone seems a bit worked up today? Wanna chat about it?"

"No funny chats I HAVE to bring you in this time" he tried to attack while speaking finding it was definitely harder to do both at the same time.

"good luck with that, but I think I'd like to keep the chatting up" he dodged a fire glyph while growling softly.

"I'm not going to let you drag me into chatting if my uncle saw me talking with yo-"

"Belos is here?" that caused her to stop attacking to look around in fear as if she realized the danger this caused for her and her mentor. While she looked around he tried to take the moment as a good opportunity to net her. However, it didn't work long as she quickly burned through it. "I need to tell Eda if Belos is around this is bad"

"No duh, it's bad... for both of us" trying to blast her again it wasn't long until he saw his uncle walk into the open as he felt a new sense of fear rising deep inside of him.

"Not bad for both of you, but it is bad for her and the owl lady" he looked around noticing a few extra guards adding something to the battlefield not that he had to ask what as he quickly started to get disoriented. Looking at Luz she seemed just as if not more out of it than him. Of course it would be easier to trick them into letting their guard down then disorienting them. What he hadn't expected was for the world to start spinning around him as he felt like he could hear his uncle and the owl lady saying something at the same time. He had no idea what Luz would be feeling as he looked up in time to see Luz charging at him. Unsure if she was trying to attack him or not he decided try let out a warning shot unsure if his staff was even on. Except a familiar definitely not warning shot left his staff as the human doged into his attack, probably assuming he was aiming at her.

It wasn't like time sped up or slowed down rather he was locking eyes with her one second and the next she was on the ground between him and the owl lady. He could still see her breathing as his body seemed to lose it's strength the mix of the world spinning and his weakness lead to him falling over before stumbling backwards. Watching, shaking as the owl lady went from checking on Luz to throwing her over her shoulder while fleeing. His uncle seemed to make no obvious order to stop them yet seeing him approach only sent his world spinning faster into disoray. Before his uncle could even begin to speak he was already vomiting up his lunch from the vertigo and the only thing in his mind was that one moment when he had his eyes locked with Luz's.

[boliv-jenta]

Somebody reminded me of this.

I wanted to revisit them. I tried to write from more the male perspective. (I'm not a real writer is that a thing?😂)

Marcus Pike x unnamed female.

Smut 🔞 P in V sex, f!receiving oral, come eating, edging.

Smut from the start.

"Eight...fuck...nine, Marcus!" He stopped where he was, letting her come down a little.

"Good girl." His hands stroked her thighs with a softeness that betrayed their size. They trailer down to where they were joined. He squeezed the base of his cock as it throbbed inside of her. He'd got just as close to ten as she had that time.

For the last hour she'd been just ahead of him. Hitting seven, eight, nine just as he hit sixes and sevens. Using the same skills he used in his work, he kept himself under control. The restraint he showed when dealing with scumbags, he used to resist the urge to pound deeper into her warm heat. The patience to trade off for a bigger fish, he used to stop himself from letting her come. With each denial he knew his reward would be that much sweeter. In the past he'd edged her with more formality to it. Set the scene and the rules beforehand. Since she had introduced him to sex toys he has become a master with them. Bondage pieces had quickly become a favourite. Restraining her, being in complete control of her pleasure, was a turn on like no other to him. Hours would pass with her writhing and moaning under his control. He would get so hard that when he finally allowed himself to let go, he would spill in minutes.

Today, he had bent her over her bed intending to make the most of their free weekday afternoon. Sex, followed by a tour of the new exhibition downtown. It was far too busy at the weekend for either of their tastes. A quiet weekday afternoon would be perfect. From the second that he bent her naked form over, the bright summer sun streaming through the window making her bare skin glow, he knew the exhibition was going to have to wait a little. When he had spread her folds with his fingers, felt the heat radiating before he fully made contact, felt the glide of her slick on her lips. He knew the the exhibition was going to have to wait a while. When he slid the head of his cock through her soft folds, catching on her enterance a couple of times, causing her breath to hitch and her to grip the sheets. When he finally pushed the tip of him in, the luxurious grasp of her drawing him deeper. He knew they were not making the exhibition today. Watching those first few thrusts, how his dick came away even more coated in her slick, he knew this was the only place he wanted to be today.

Once she began to tighten around a little too fast for his liking he knew his new plans for this afternoon.

"What number, Baby?" His hands massaged her ass as he spoke.

She hummed at him too lost in the sensation of him filling her to catch his question.

He slapped her ass before asking again. "What number, Baby?" He soothed the skin under his touch.

"Six." She breathed, purposely clenching around him. She knew what type of afternoon she was in for.

"Good." He groaned. "Tell me if you get higher."

For a good while, he kept himself steady, the same pace, the same depth of his thrusts. He watched transfixed as his girth split her open, as she grew wetter around him, her slick glistening in the sun.

Not wearing a condom was a recent development. They had a long discussion about their relationship and their birth control options. They both decided they trusted each other enough to indulge in a deeper level of intimacy. No matter how many times he'd slipped into her bare in the last few weeks, it still made his legs tremble at that first skin to skin contact. The alternating sensation of her velvet heat as he buried himself deep and her wetness cooling in the slight breeze from the window as he withdrew was sending him higher himself.

He sighed in relief at the sound of her voice. "Seven!"

"Good girl. Thank you." He praised. He loved that she would indulge him in this. She was always truthful, even if it meant delaying her orgasm even further. He withdrew a little, left his cockhead pressed inside of her. He breathed through the tingle low in his balls. Tried not to think about how beautiful her soft curves looked spread out in front of him. He did, however, make the mistake of looking down at her pussy dripping around him. No, this wouldn't do. He would crumble before he could edge her further.

"Can we move up the bed a little?" His hand splayed out over her stomach. He hauled her closer. Her back pressed to his chest. The natural scent of her, sweet and musky with sweat, made the animal inside him rear up. He drove back into her deeply. His hips slammed into her ass hard and fast. Falling forward he had her pinned to the bed beneath him. For a moment he forgot himself. All that mattered was the tug of her around him, her moans, the sucking sound of her gushing around him.

"Oh my god. Eight! Eight, Baby, Eight." She babbled as she clenched around him. He had no choice but to pull out completely. If he'd have stayed in his carnal need would have had him push them both over the edge. Laying flat against her back he felt his heart slamming in his chest. He concentrated on their breathing, the tandem raise and fall of it. Out of sync at first then falling into a steady rhythm.

"Do you want to keep going?" His lips brushed her shoulder, pressing the odd kiss here and there.

"Yes. Please." She was just as eager as he was. Every time she gave herself willingly to him. Offered up her trust and control to him.

Not wanting it to end he slipped inside and ground against her for a while. Just a soft tease of his length inside of her. Still temptation pulled at him. He needed to feel her close again, feel her muscles bear down on him, to jerk his cock closer to release. Lifting her hips up, he angled himself just so, rolled his hips so the tip brushed something devastating inside. She lowered her head, moaned into the pillow underneath her.

"Marcus please." He could never deny her. Thrusting into her, hard and steady, he got her even closer to climax.

"Eight...fuck...nine, Marcus!" He stopped where he was, letting her come down a little.

"Good girl." His hands stroked her thighs with a softeness that betrayed their size. They trailer down to where they were joined. He squeezed the base of his cock as it throbbed inside of her. He'd got just as close to ten as she had that time. Her pussy fluttered around him, her orgasm just snatched from her.

"Do you have a few more nines for me before I let you come?" He smiled at how quickly she nodded. "Such a good girl for me."

He nuzzled her neck before lifting her up, one hand pressed to her public bone, fingertips just skimmed where she'd want them. His other hand palmed her breast, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he began to pound into her. Her hands grabbed at him. One over his at her chest, the other in his hair.

"Marcus. Fuck. So good to me. No one's ever been this good to me. Nine." That's all it took for his plans to completely unravel. One solitary confession of how taken care of by him she feels.

"Nine!" She repeated pulling at his hair. He body tensed with effort to be good for him as he fucked her hard. The pressure began to build inside him again. A tingle began to spread out from his groin.

"I know, Babe. I just want to feel you. You can come. You..." The pressure burst, he began to fill her with his come. The first wave of pleasure washed over him. As his seed shot out. He thought he was done until she clamped down around him, milking more out of him. A second wave of pleasure washed over him he was almost light head as the world blurred out of his consciousness for a moment. All he could think about was her pussy convulsing around him and the rush of hormones flooding his body. Her soft lips touching his cheek brought him back to himself.

Either she became heavy in his arms or he became weak. Either way, he eased her forward until she propped up on her forearms. As he worked his way down her spine, he left kissed in his wake. Sleep pulled at him but before he could rest, he needed to taste her, them, hopefully make her come again. Eating her out from behind her rolled his tongue through their spend. On her own she tasted incredible but there was something about their combination juices that he just craved. He savoured it, plunged his tongue deep until there was no more to taste. He could feel she was close again. It only took a few swipes of his tongue over her clit to make her come. He licked up the new rush of come before crawling up the bed to lay beside her. Neither of them spoke as he lay his head on the pillow. Her hand came up to thread in his hair, fingertips tracing light circles on his scalp. He pulled one of her legs over his. Her head rested against his broad chest. Their matching smiles barely faded as sleep over took them.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @misspearly1 @aynsleywalker

[mynameisjessejk]

But In Our Selves, The Puzzle Deepens, Part 7

Grim woke alone, far later than his usual habit. Breakfast was waiting next to his pack. He smiled a little as he ate, and regarded his camp. It was drawing near the time he expected Torna to be coming to find him, so he didn’t want to hunt another deer, but he could definitely take the hides and jerky to the village.

He left most of his gear where it was, silent promise to return, and loaded his nearly-empty pack with the jerky store and bound the rolled hides to the bottom. Then he ventured into the woods.

“You can’t get there from there,” Feyrith informed him from a treetop an hour later.

Grim smiled up at him. “Yeah?”

Feyrith nodded. “A fallen tree makes the trail impossible in another fifteen yards, and the thicket’s too thick to go around.”

“How do I go then?” Grim asked.

“I go by tree,” Feyrith said, baring his teeth. “You backtrack to the creek and follow the bank to the river.”

Grim laughed and started backtracking. Feyrith laughter followed him into the trees.

The villagers were a cheerful lot, and once they’d seen his Ranger talisman, they were thrilled to welcome him with a drink in the inn and a hand pie that was ‘slightly burned, unsellable, go on then Ranger, take it off my hands!’

The tanner took his hides gladly, and the mayor took the jerky, promising to distribute it to those in need as the winter drew on.

Grim chatted with the locals for nearly an hour, asking about their festivals and their customs. Then he reluctantly peeled himself away from them and headed back towards the stream.

“Ranger,” the weaver called as he made his way past her little cottage.

“Ma’am,” Grim replied, ducking his head to her.

“If you’re in the area a bit longer,” she said, patting his forearm as he drew up beside her, “There’s young Feyrith.”

Grim tilted his head in question.

“A sweet lad,” she said earnestly. “A blind elven hermit, out in the deep woods. If the winter’s going to be as bad as you say, he ought to come in to the village proper for it; he’s welcome with me and my husband, if he likes, or there’s plenty of spare rooms about. Any of us would put him up so he won’t freeze.”

Grim blinked at her, first at the description of the small, feral creature he’d met as “a sweet lad” and then again at the descriptor ‘blind’. “I make no promises, ma’am,” he said finally, “But if our paths cross, I’ll do my best to convince him.”

“That’s all I ask,” the weaver replied. “Thank you kindly, sir.”

Grim bowed politely to her and strode into the woods.

He made it back to his campsite with little trouble, and found Torna and Feyrith staring at each other from opposite sides of the clearing. Duck was watching judgmentally from the log near the fire. Grim looked between the two elves and then sighed.

He crossed to the fire and sat in his usual place, offering Duck a piece of jerky and started cooking the fish he’d caught on the way back on Feyrith’s stone. He’d save his treat for later.

“So,” he said finally as he set a pot of water on the fire to boil for couscous. “Did you introduce yourselves, or have you just been staring at each other like rival cats for who knows how long?”

Torna came over first, bur Feyrith shuffled after not much behind her, clearly not to be outdone. They settled on opposite sides of the fire, both slightly closer to him than directly across from each other.

“Grim,” Torna said. “Why is your new elf defective?”

Grim raised an eyebrow at her as Feyrith growled.

“He’s tiny,” she said. “And he keeps making that noise. Is he broken?”

Grim sighed. “Feyrith, this is my partner Torna. Torna, Feyrith Vincaryn, Seer of Eithel.”

Feyrith just growled more.

Torna scoffed.

Grim sighed. It was going to be a long night.

[amberduan-ual]

Progress Tutorials (11/5/23)

Both of these two paintings are from the neighborhood I grew up in! Collecting reference photos made me realize that I wish I had taken more photos of Seattle when I was still there. I think there's a special kind of love that goes into drawing your home and where you've grown up, and I wish I'd gotten more pictures to draw from before coming to London! It's definitely something that I want to invest time in when I go back home for the summer, scouting out places that hold a lot of memories for me and trying to commit that to visual form.

Day 19 was a kind of ambitious painting for me because I was trying to capture all the architectural details that I could see. I think I'm still a bit unsure when it comes to architecture and trying to balance structure versus personality/feeling, but it was definitely good practice all the same.

For Day 20, I followed along with Lea Pinto's Warrior Painters demo. Lea's demo was really interesting because I could tell she wasn't used to speaking about her process that much or talking while drawing, but she had such a wealth of information and tips to share! I learned so much about difference tricks in Photoshop, and more importantly some of Lea's though process and logic behind the choices she makes.

Lea was one of the background artists for JIBARO, one of the episodes of Love, Death, and Robots, an animated adult tv series streaming on Netflix. I'd actually watched this episode before so it was amazing to hear her talk about how she designed and painted some of the scenes from the episode.

I was super shocked to hear that Lea generally uses a mouse with the lasso tool for 90% of her painting process, and she explained that she feels more comfortable using it as opposed to a tablet. I don't think I could ever work like her but it really goes to show that it doesn't matter what your art tools are, as long as it works for you and you're able to use them how you want to.

I'm pretty pleased with how my own painting came out, because I was able to accomplish several things that'd I'd been aiming for in the same piece! I increased the saturation and vibrancy from the original reference, added my own slanted perspective for more character, and was able to integrate the overall color palette with the primaries red, blue, and yellow.

My color sense has definitely gotten stronger since the start of this challenge, and I can also see how my paintings have gained a more confident feeling to them. I really believe that getting a lot of mileage in drawing is one of the best things you can do to improve quickly, and I'm glad that I can already see gains within just a little over two weeks.

For Day 23, I followed along with Yeonji Rhee for her Warrior Painters demo. I thought Yeonji's demo was really informative, and I could really tell that she had confidence in teaching and explaining art concepts to other people. Her demo was a bit like a lesson almost, focused on how to use grays effectively within an image.

I'm super thankful for the Warrior Painters and Artbrew for their demo collab series. Every time I've followed along with one of them, I end up feeling reinvigorated from the new knowledge I've gained and inspired by the amazing artists leading the demos. I think this pattern of creating and learning, creating and learning is a really effective one for me because sometimes I get too caught up in learning and fail to actually apply any of those lessons to my work.

Almost all the paintings that I've done for PleinAirpril are reference photos I've taken personally (besides the demo sessions), but a few images are also from my friend Naomi! Naomi recently traveled to Iceland and took some amazing photos on film.

When they finally got developed, I was really blown away by the atmospheric quality of her photos, and was inspired to try and create that feeling in my own artwork.

For Day 25, I followed along with Kaye Kang's Warrior Painters demo. Kaye had some helpful color editing tips which I found pretty interesting. She said that she never works directly with an unaltered reference image, and will always adjust the colors in Photoshop first to enhance a certain type of lighting or atmosphere.

Usually, when I paint colors that don't follow the reference exactly, I just use my own color sense to adjust them as I paint but Kaye's method seems really helpful for more unnatural colors or combinations that I'm not as comfortable with.

I liked the photo that Kaye picked for the demo because I got to think about how to simplify the signs and details of the storefront while still having them be convincing.

In this next painting, I applied the Photoshop techniques I learned from Kaye's demo to create a really pink lighting with greenish shadows, inspired by one of my favorite illustrations ever by @quruiqing on Twitter.

I did try experimenting with an inverse of that coloring, with green lighting and pink shadows but it didn't exactly fit the atmosphere I was going for so I decided to ditch it.

I had a lot of fun with the pinks and purples of this painting, and definitely want to play around with strong/unnatural lighting more in future works!