#ya....i wrote it...

[recitedemise]

In his Dragon Age verse, Gale, though primarily a necromancer, doubles also as an exceptionally learned practitioner of blood magic. Of course, however, this isn't exactly a talent he goes about flaunting like the colors of his robes. Across Thedas, the mage knows, the use of such spellcraft is undeniably regarded as inherently evil. It uses blood as its fuel, a field that's incapable of creating and making without taking in turn, and as such, his myriad of experiments are kept very lock-and-key -- and to be sure, to know his work at all is to have earned his trust.

Blood magic, to Gale, is something he learned to dabble in as he sequestered himself in the Necropolis' phantomish chambers. After contracting the Blight, he had set himself to wasting somewhere far below where the dead things lay. As it were, he'd possessed too much knowledge of the innerworkings of the Mourn Watch, and surrendering himself knowing he was a threat, his peers accepted -- some saddened -- his subsequent isolation. Alone, Gale took to his modest luxuries, locked in his room with a great wealth of books and the time to tarry. Here, he studied blood magic, desperate to slow down his worsening condition. To Gale, all magic, even blood magic, is not so much evil as much as it's but a tool. Most Mortalitasi, however, aren't as quick as Gale to dip their toes in this forbidden art. To most his peers, blood magic defiles life while necromancy, their art, covets and treasures it. Gale, however, rides that line of death in a way most don't. As such, to him, he sees the use of blood magic as a sort of beacon of hope. However, he loathes -- and with a ferocious intensity, too -- the idea of bringing harm onto anyone at all. His experiments, if asked, would be detailed exhaustively as tests all conducted at the cost of his health. Gale longs to heal the body without the use of another's blood or vitality. Often, you can find him hunched over at his desk, fingers working at his veins or that deep, garish bruise sat inky at his chest. Make no mistake, however, though Gale will never choose to hurt without reason, if pressed or threatened in any way at all... Well, prodigy as he is, the danger Gale can pose is downright ghastly.

[ducktracy]

Cartoon Research just published an interview with Alex Kirwan and Pete Browngardt on The Day the Earth Blew Up if you wanted more tidbits and insight!! extremely excited to read this myself!

[bleedingoptimism]

“I’m sorry Steve, I thought we were just having fun! I enjoyed you taking me out and paying for everything that’s all…” Is what Shelley said to him when Steve walked into the bar and saw her flirting with another guy. 

Obviously, he smiled and shook his head, said everything was okay, ‘Just a silly misunderstanding’ and left, ever so graceful. But the second he was outside he cursed, tried not to shed a tear, failed, and then started laughing. 

He probably looks like a mad man, or a drunk. But no, don’t worry people, he’s not drunk or crazy, he’s just really, really stupid. He thought Shelley really liked him, he thought they were dating. And Shelley just assumed he was just another playboy so she played him back. He’s not even mad at her. She didn't mean to hurt him. It’s not her fault Steve is just so easy to hurt. 

Sighing, he gets his phone out to get an uber and hugs himself even though it’s not really that cold outside, waiting for his car, already imagining the big, greasy burger he’s going to order when he gets home. He deserves it, okay?

The car that pulls out has definitely seen better days, but it’s clean and comfortable so Steve doesn’t think twice about getting in. He offers the driver a smile through the rearview mirror, sparing a moment to notice his eyes are big and dark, and they crinkle when he smiles back at him. 

Steve sits stiff and straight for a moment before realizing no one is there to judge him right now and he deflates, sighing again and letting himself collapse against the seat. Still hugging himself to feel any sort of comfort, he bumps his head against the window softly a couple of times. 

“Long night?” The driver asks him in a friendly manner.

Steve meets his eyes in the rearview again and shrugs, smiling back crookedly “Thought I should go home early since I already accomplished making an ass of myself for the night”

He checks the uber app for the driver’s name, doesn’t want to be rude by not remembering. ‘Eddie’ chuckles at Steve's statement.

“You did, huh? Well good job on getting it out of the way then,”

Steve chuckles back, “Yeah, I was actually thinking I deserve a treat”

He notices Eddie looking back at him a couple of times before breathing an interested, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “A huge cheesy burger or something” Wondering what Eddie was thinking he’d say.

Eddie laughs again, “Oh! Right of course” and just when he’s about to say something else his phone rings.

“Oh, sorry” Eddie murmurs, immediately hanging up on whoever is calling. 

“No worries,” Steve mumbles back, sitting up a little straighter again. 

“So, what’s your favorite dirty burger place?” Eddie asks him. 

Steve can tell he’s trying to distract him from the mood he entered the car with and he really appreciates it.

He sits forward and leans his forearms against the headrest of the passenger seat, “Oh, there’s so many, but…” from this angle, he can see Eddie’s face better, and he can’t help but think he’s got a really nice looking profile, long lashes, full lips, and the cutest nose he’s ever seen, “I think Benny’s the best one” he finishes.

Eddie pulls at a stop light and turns to look at him with a smile and he’s so much prettier than Steve first thought he involuntarily gasps. But thankfully Eddie is talking excitedly and doesn’t seem to notice.

“No way you know Benny’s?! Benny is my uncle! Well, he’s married to my uncle actually- you know what I mean but yeah, Benny’s is great!” 

It’s such a weird coincidence that it managed to take Steve out of his stupor and he’s suddenly just as excited as Eddie,

“Really? Oh my god, I’m so jealous right now, I wished I could live at Benny’s sometimes” 

Eddie laughs, and just when he opens his mouth to reply his phone rings again. This time he doesn’t immediately hang up and Steve sees the screen light up with the name “you deserve better” 

Ouch, he thinks, and his heartstrings tug for his cute, sweet, uber driver. Who offered him friendly conversation cause he noticed he was feeling down and has the most beautiful laugh. He doesn't really know why he feels so strongly about it, he doesn't even know Eddie… but he still feels the text is right. Whoever hurt him, Eddie deserved better.

“Hey,” He says softly when Eddie hangs up cursing.

Eddie sighs again, “I’m so sorry,” 

“Hey, no. It’s fine,” Steve replies, resisting the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He figures, after the way his night started, he’s got nothing to lose so he says, “So much talk about Benny’s I feel like I need to go there right now.” 

Eddie let’s out a distracted “Huh?” and Steve soldiers on, “Wanna change the destination and join me? You can take me home after,”

He notices Eddie doing a double take and blushing, “Really? I- Am- I- okay” he stammers but Steve can’t really figure out why.

“Yeah, you know, that way you don’t lose time on the job and have another ride?” He finishes and Eddie laughs,

“Oh, right. Yeah That- makes sense”

They keep talking about their favorite things on the menu on the way there and soon they are sitting face to face in a booth at Benny’s.

What a pair they make, Steve in a three piece suit, jacket off, vest undone and shirt rolled up to his forearms. And Eddie with sweats and a hoodie. 

Eddie is even better looking in the shitty dinner light and the blush that adorns his cheeks ever since they came in makes Steve wanna kiss them to feel their warmth.

Benny himself comes to take their order, and Eddie gets up to hug him and introduces him to Steve. They already know each other, because Steve does come to the dinner often and Benny lets Eddie know that.

Eddie thinks it's hilarious that they both have been here so much and never saw each other before, but Steve can’t help to think it’s a shame.

“I actually would’ve loved to have met you sooner,” he tells Eddie at one point and watches curiously as Eddie’s blush turns a few shades darker.

As they eat, Steve tells Eddie about Shelley, about his hopes, about misreading the situation, about his shame. How he doesn’t even think he liked Shelley that much, but he just wanted to have something real. Eddie gets mad at him for blaming himself, tells him it wasn’t his fault, that he’s being too hard on himself. And it’s not a bad thing to consider but all Steve can think about is how cute Eddie looks when he’s mad on his behalf.

Eventually, Eddie tells Steve about whoever was calling him. 

“I met him at my last job. I thought he was so cool but turns out he was actually just cold,” Eddie shrugs, “We dated for like 6 months or something, not that long but, I was miserable the whole time and I didn’t even realize it was because of him.” 

Eddie’s hand is tearing up a paper napkin between them and Steve tentatively settles his hand over Eddie’s, who stops destroying the napkin and smiles gratefully at Steve, holding his hand back.

“The worst part is I didn’t even break up with him, he broke up with me,” Eddie chuckles self-deprecatingly, “But he still wanted to keep me around I guess… And I… didn’t want to feel lonely” 

They both stay quiet for a moment after that, and Steve stares at their hands joined over the greasy dinner table and thinks about loneliness, about how he doesn't feel it right now, with Eddie.

“So, what happened?” he asks after a bit.

“I did eventually realize he was the one making me feel like shit so I stopped seeing him but he didn’t appreciate my new sense of self-respect,” Eddie says lightly and Steve instinctively squeezes his hand protectively, which makes Eddie smile again, “I’m doing just fine now though, I told him to fuck off and got a new job. And it’s actually pretty good, ya know?”

Steve can’t help but smile back at Eddie’s cute expression, “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, my own hours? Good money? Plus I’ve always liked driving around, it calms me. And I get to meet really interesting people…” he says, winking at Steve and making him chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad then. Proud of you for getting out of there,”

“Me too,” Eddie says and looks up as Benny walks over to them.

“Sorry to interrupt boys, but we are about to close for the night,” He says, stifling a yawn.

Steve looks surprised at his watch, it’s almost 2 A.M. He can’t believe he’s been sitting here with Eddie for hours when it only felt like a few minutes.

He offers to cover the bill but Benny fights him over it and says it’s his treat. And Eddie offers to take him home no charge. So they get in Eddie’s car again only this time Steve sits next to him instead of in the back and they talk about music on their way to his place while Steve changes the radio stations. Laughing, singing and joking around, it’s such a good time. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever, like they could do this…forever. But eventually they arrive at Steve’s building and suddenly Steve doesn’t want the night to end. 

He’s about to tell Eddie as much, maybe invite him inside, when his phone rings again, the ‘you deserve better’ staring at them. But Eddie immediately grabs his phone and hangs up, blocking the number after. 

“There, he can’t call me again,” he says with a sigh.

“Can I see your phone for a second?” Steve ventures, making a last second decision.

Eddie looks surprised but curious as he hands it over and Steve punches his phone in.

“If you ever feel like unblocking him, or calling him back… Why don’t you try calling me instead?” he says in a rush and then walks out of the car, not lingering to see Eddie’s reaction.

There’s always the positivity that he got things wrong again, got too invested too soon again and he doesn’t want to know tonight. He’ll deal with it later, if Eddie doesn't call.

🚗📱🍔💙

It takes only two days for Steve’s phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on his screen. He picks it up feeling a little out of breath for no reason at all.

“Hello?” 

“Steve?”

“Eddie, I”

“Wait- before you say anything I just want you to know that I didn’t call because I wanted to call him, or I was thinking about him. I called because I can’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to talk to you. Okay?”

“Eddie- yes! It’s more than okay, I- I was hoping you’d call”

fin 💙

☕🥐💕 coffee? oovoo javer?

[pharmasrightarm]

Hello hello!! I just wanna start off by saying how GORGEOUS your art is! Truly inspiring. I was wondering what your process was? Again, your art is truly impressive

Thank you!! Oh man, it was a saga and you've opened a can of worms because my favorite thing to ramble about outside of sad gay space robots is our unholy overlord Photoshop (warning for length)

Hatching workflow: step 1: have too many Doré artbooks The refined process is thumbnail > cleaner sketch > black-and-white base OR 3D render > cut out whites > clean up edges > mask out each building/section > hatching lines with the upcoming layer setup

One:

And another:

Below is the layer setup I use for hatching! First I separated each element into its own folder, with its own mask—

Then used this structure in each folder— I just want the hatching lines to appear black when on lit areas, and white on shadowed areas (as opposed to having to draw part of a line in white and another part in black). So, after separating the lit and shadowed sides, I copied the "Light" layer, clipped it on top of a folder of hatching lines, and inverted its layer mask.

(*I draw on layer masks because it's easier to recolor lines + toggle between drawing and erasing with the "X" shortcut (I have fore- and background colors set to black and white for layer masks))

Sometimes I do a pass of grayscale values and overlay that layer on top as a reference while hatching.

I've two main brushes: one choppier and one smoother and tapered at the ends (for thin lines, 2px-3px). Really thin horiz/vert lines are just the Pencil at 1px.

Black-and-white workflow with 3D:

Tbh at first I only intended to make that one lurking Drift illustration. But I cower from 3D like it’ll kill me, so I turned it into a 3D assignment. First I used that "separate ways" piece to make myself model at low stakes (I just made items from the comic backgrounds and jammed them together), then I modeled the Dead End wide shot and got the final lurking Drift comp from that.

1. Drew enough detail to model (>see the 5th image in this post)

2. Used fSpy to generate a Blender camera that matched my perspective

3. Shoved together the barest essentials of the clinic set in Blender (setting the 5th image in this post as a background image in Viewport)

4. Rendered at hi-res twice: once with lighting, once with Freestyle outlines.

5. Changed clinic design in the close-up, so I went back to revise the wide shot.

In conclusion, my hobby is wrangling Photoshop to minutely speed up the extremely tedious and niche thing I can't stop myself from doing If anyone's got a faster way to do any of this, tell me!!

here's a gif for funsies because I get 1 more image on this post

[legobiwan]

"First, let's get something out of the way: a human's ability to grasp reality is painfully limited. You don't even have free will! Don't believe me? Okay, rip a dollar in half right now. Didn't do it? Didn't think so!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"PS: Look what I just ripped in half! Suck it!"

~~~~~~~~

I love Stan so, so much for this.

[the-original-skipps]

|| Original Wallpaper [Kaiju No. 8 RELAX] || Tsuki Watanabe ||

[v88sy]

Give me a Buckley Sibling Brunch Hour where Buck starts the obligatory "I don't know what we are" discussion, and Maddie just answers "seems pretty obvious to me."

"Is it? Because I don't know what I would even do without him right now, but I also know that this isn't the time to bring it up. It feels like we're back together, we're mostly doing all of the same things as before..."

And Maddie just freezes him with a look.

"I mean, no. Not everything."

And it's at that moment Chim and Tommy walk in from their agreed upon commiseration date, which just happened to consist of getting day drunk at some shitty bar and Ubering home.

They seem to be "arguing" over something that has Buck's interest piqued.

"And you were just making kissy faces at him, trying to lure him over like some cat." Chim nearly gets the whole sentence out without tripping over his words.

"What else was I supposed to do! It's not like I'm some expert!"

The pair make it to the kitchen, only to be stopped dead by the glare on Buck's face and the confusion on Maddie's.

"I'm sorry, who exactly were you trying to kiss?" And oh God, if that wasn't the world's largest pout.

It's silent for a second longer than needed before Chim lets out a laugh. "You seriously never heard the story of Maurice?"

[aesthetic-gem]

okay but tr!foolish clearly enjoys not knowing the end. the thrill, the anticipation of what will happen next. how will this end. how will i keep moving forward after this. this is one of his main traits. his open giddyness to the unknown. that’s the opposite of tr!bad who would prefer to know the conclusion. who won’t take a fight he doesn’t know the guaranteed outcome of. who toils and plans and prepares on how he will do something and how he wants it to end.

life prefers the journey ahead while death prefers the expected ending.

yesterday was funnily enough such a good example of this. tr!bad knew exactly what was laid out to him. he knew the goal, he knew where and who was going to be there. although he played no part in the killing, he knew what was going to happen on the stage before the curtain call. while tr!foolish, he went ahead and just followed tr!owen understanding the gist of what’s really going on, but antsily waiting to see how this will happen. what truths will be revealed. will he live or not. he’s not stupid. he understood the risk. the trust was never fully there, but the totem likes gambling on what will come after. a willing actor of the play.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm suddenly thinking about rockstar!eddie shooting a music video on some naval ship and meeting actual sailor!steve who's all dressed up in his whites 'cause eddie's a big name star and the captain said everyone had to look their best and eddie immediately folding for the pretty guy in uniform

just: eddie wanting a couple of the guys to act in the video 'cause hopefully then they'd actually know what they're doing, and asking the capt to point out his most competent sailor. the capt immediately points out one of his low-ranking ensigns (like, brand new baby officer 'cause that's the kinda shit an officer would pull) and eddie, having been raised by wayne (who i'm hc-ing as a navy vet) knows better and is immediately like "No sir, I said your most competent, not your least. someone point me to THE second class. Where's he? I need an enlisted guy." and a higher-ranking chief that's been following the band around the ship all day bellows out a laugh and says "You're gonna want Harrington, Mr. Munson."

idk idk, it's niche but for some reason my mind went into the cold clammy depths of my time in the navy this morning and i was like 'NOPE! don't wanna dwell here, make it fun! make it about the blorbos so you dont get sad!!' lmao

[jadewritesficshere]

Eddie x fem!reader (reader wears lingerie, no other descriptions of reader given except mentioning hitting that spot just right)

Contents: lingerie, both are a lil pervy tbh, humiliation, crying, praise kink, sub!Eddie, this is literally just horny ramblings

18+ only

It wasn't every day you came back to your house and your best friend had broken in. Maybe, every other week at best.

Usually, Eddie would be high eating your snacks (you were thinking about getting a lock for the cabinets). Or he would be watching whatever show you recorded and tease you about spoiling it (you threatened to use the VHS to beat him over the head and strangle him with the VHS ribbon if he did).

But, you had no clue Eddie was even in your house today. His van wasn't parked in your driveway when you came home. His shoes weren't in a haphazard pile at the front door. You had 0 clue he was there.

Not until you heard a thump coming from your bedroom. Which, your first thought went to the knickknacks you had that someone could be stealing (they wouldn't cause to a normal person it was junk but to you they were memories).

You grabbed a knife from the kitchen (you weren't gonna die without a fight, besides you learned a thing or two from the horror movies Eddie made you watch). You quietly pushed your bedroom door open and-

Shit.

Eddie was standing in your room in front of your mirror. Miles of pale skin just on display, scattered with contrasting dark tattoos he had. Nothing on, save for your lilac lingerie.

The palest purple lace bra, you can see from the back isn't even clipped correctly, missing the hook entirely. But the color is striking on Eddie. The lace thong cuts high on Eddie's ass, and you try not to gawk at the little black heart tattooed on his cheek. Eddie's scars seem softer amongst the lace.

How often did Eddie do this? Come over and put on your lingerie? Stand in front of the mirror and rub his fingers over his one hardened nipple. You couldn't see from where you were, but you knew his cock was hard. He'd be leaking all over your underwear, marking them.

Eddie lets out a little moan and it ignites a fire in your gut. You lick you lips as you watch Eddie, which maybe makes you a pervert but really it is your house and he is wearing your clothes so if anyone is-

Fuck why is it so hot?

"So-" you clear your throat. Eddie let's out a screech (that you are pretty sure ruined your eardrums) as he whirls around. He tries to cover himself with his arms, curls in on himself. And Holy cow he is hard.

He is big, so big, the tip just peeking out of the waistband of the panties. You can see the pearly translucent precum already dripping onto the underwear.

"I- fuck, I'm aha listen I can exp- i can explain!" Eddie fumbles over his words. You blink a few times tearing your eyes away from his massive dick (oh it would feel so good it would hit every spot just right).

Eddie's face is red, tears welling up in his eyes. "Oh Baby, no," you rush over, pausing when Eddie flinches. You gently put a hand out on Eddie's shoulder, drawing him into a hug, " It's- it's okay. Please don't cry." "Don't hate me." You gasp in shock, pulling back to look in his eyes," I could never!"

Eddie's eyes are wet, filled with unshed tears. His nose is turning a bit red, from embarrassment, shame, or sadness you can't tell. But his cheeks are such a pretty pink you think it'd look nice elsewhere on his pale skin.

Eddie hides his face with his hair, shuffling his feet a bit. "So..." you pause unsure how to ask it politely so you just go for it," I can see this is a kink thing...but like, what kind?"

Eddie shrugs," Wanted to feel pretty..." You frown," You are pretty Eddie." Eddie shakes his head and gestures to his abdomen," Not with these."

Eddie really should not be drawing your eyes any further south then his face. Cause your pulse kicks up and the fire inside you lights back up your spine. You can't help but notice his dick is still hard as a rock.

"You are too pretty." "Not really." "Yes!" Not-" You shove Eddie lightly, causing him to stumble back and fall onto the bed. Eddie's eyes widen in shock as he peers up at you.

"Don't talk about my best friend that way! You are too pretty. And handsome. Funny. So talented," You sigh and step forward, into Eddie's parted legs. Eddie leans up on his elbows and blinks rapidly at you. "You're so fucking pretty Baby." You murmur, hand reaching out lightly touching his thigh.

Eddie let's out a whine before looking startled at himself. You can't help but notice his dick twitch under the pale purple lace. "You like being called pretty?" You smirk. "Like when you call me Baby," Eddie replies softly.

You aren't sure who moves first, but suddenly your arms are wrapped around each other. Your lips meet Eddie's without hesitation. His are slightly chapped but still soft, molding perfectly against your own.

You run your hand down Eddie's neck, to the pale bra strap and snap it. He gasps and you take the chance, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He tastes of weed, mint gum, and just Eddie.

Eddie moans against you, hips bucking forward seeking friction. You pull back, gasping for air. Eddie let's out a whine," No, come back-" "I ain't going anywhere Baby."

Eddie's eyes flutter shut as he bites his lip. He hums as you kiss his jaw, lightly nipping at his pulse point. He shivers against you, hips bucking forward again. You suck lightly as you decide to give him some relief.

Your hand snakes down, grasping him firmly. You lightly squeeze through the lace, giving just enough friction as you move your hand.

"Look so good in my lingerie Baby, you should wear it more often." You murmur between kisses. Eddie nods absently, gasping and moaning beneath you. "Got a red pair that has some nice straps, you'd look so metal and so so pretty."

Eddie freezes, mouth falling open. His brow wrinkles slightly as he moans, pleasure overtaking him. His hips spasm, even his thighs twitch, as he comes. You can feel your underwear get soaked along with part of his stomach.

You stroke him through it, extending his pleasure until he whimpers and pushes at your hand. You pull back, smiling softly at his face. Eddie's eyes flutter open, darting down to your lips. "Kiss?" He asks quietly, unsure. You simply smile and kiss him again.

[insanity6666]

Molten Hearts 3

You explore one of the cities of Nocturne and fulfill an ancient tradition. Accidentally. Mostly.

Warnings: Near-death experience, and all that entails. Nothing graphic tho.

Quick authors note: Stuff has happened between the Office Confession and now, but that's mostly minor fluff-stuff, and I wanted to get this one out since it was gnawing on my brain. Enjoy.

Part 1, Part 1.5, Part 2

The caverns of Nocturne were truly something wondrous. Ceilings, both natural and carved, were so tall you could barely see them, even with the lighting dotted high on the walls. Stalagmites and stalactites reached for each other, some had been broken away while others were used in the construction or used in decorating the cityscape, many bearing carvings or paintwork. Some speleothems were used as columns, reinforcements built around them to better support whatever structure was going to be built around or above it.

You wandered the half-carved streets, the beginnings of buildings, homes, plazas, communal areas, all slowly taking shape. All waiting to be filled with colour and sound and people and life. You felt an almost childlike wonder at it all, at the skill you could see even in the rough hewn stone.

Vulkan had insisted you explore, not wanting you to remain cooped up on the Flamewrought, but had mentioned that the preparations for his home here weren’t quite ready. He had been so contrite, you knew something hadn’t quite gone to plan, and he likely wanted to surprise you with something… again. On top of all he needed to handle upon his arrival, you knew he would be busy. You had offered to stay with him and wait, but he had assured you it was alright, as you would only be bored and he could tell you were eager to get out and move after so long travelling in space. So, with young Kessok as your escort, you weaved through the city. Through markets and back-alleys and up towers and across strone bridges and wherever else your whimsy decided to lead you.

You had come across this area quite by accident. Kessok, a young Space Marine who had not even a year prior had passed his trials as a Neophyte and completed his transformation into an Astartes of the Salamanders, mentioned that expanding the city limits was a slow and often dangerous affair, and that he had not even been born when the work had begun. 

It was currently empty. Most work had been halted to celebrate the return of the Salamanders and their Primarch. You can’t imagine how the people will react when they hear he is courting a mortal.

Salt and Stars, you still can scarcely believe it, sometimes. When you wake or in the midst of your craft, you can’t help but expect to find out that it had all been a dream or some heat-induced imagining of some kind. But no, you turn around and find he’s left a sweet message, or has snuck in to watch you work. You wander into his office or invite yourself into his quarters (something that still rattles you, a little, even after the months since that conversation in his office), leave little gifts of your own or steal a few short minutes or a quick kiss before you are both pulled away by other obligations.

You let your fingers trail over stone, smooth and cool to the touch despite the warmth in the air. There were no lanterns, but the nearby lava flows create a warm, ambient light, and the uneven ceilings and walls of the half-carved cavern caused shadows to come alive and shift in an almost playful dance. 

“How long do these celebrations usually last?” You ask your guide as you walk along a low ledge that traces the edge of a large open area, full of pillars and columns in various states of completion.

Kessok, helmet off and weapons holstered, pondered the question for a moment. He was almost shy, his hesitant words were the closest you’ve ever heard an Astartes come to stuttering, but that reticence had faded over the hours you’ve spent traversing the city together.

“A day or two, on average. Longer if there has been some great victory or happening. Father usually attends these gatherings,” He must have noticed your shoulders droop a little, as he adds kindly, “though I suspect his attendance will be short-lived for this one. The rest of us will have to celebrate without him, I suppose.” The young Marines smile was one of amusement, light and teasing.

You couldn’t help the blush that stained your cheeks at his comment, but you gave a huff of laughter before turning back to the large plaza a short drop below.

“Will the lava… rivers? Be diverted or blocked, or shall they become part of the architecture in some way?” You touch his arm as you point to what you mean, and he gives an understanding hum as he leans down a little to answer you.

“Blocking them would be unwise, as that would only build pressure. Even if the seal itself doesn’t break, the building magma will only find a new exit. We-” Kessok cut himself off and grew quiet. The sudden silence was jarring enough to make you stop in your tracks, gooseflesh prickling your skin as you caught sight of his expression. His eyes far away as he gazed off to the side, tracking something you couldn’t. Everything became still and quiet in a way it wasn’t before. A way that you couldn’t express with words, but something experienced. Felt.

You had enough time to process his look of sudden panic before the world exploded into violence.

Something roared over the cacophony of stone cracking and shattering. Green filled your vision as Kessok grabbed you just in time for everything to upend itself as you were thrown from where you two had been standing.

By the time your mind gave up on trying to process what just happened, you were pushing yourself to your feet; pain a dull warning in the back of your mind as you looked around. Your time on the battlefield served you well in this moment, as you sharpened your focus into something quick and sharp.

You were out in the open. Unsafe. Find cover. Friend missing. Where’s Kessok? Danger incoming. Source unknown. Identity unknown. Find Kessok. Regroup. Find safety. Find Vulkan.

You scratched that last thought as your eyes scanned the area, even as you moved towards the nearest chunk of stone debris that might hide you from… whatever was here. You need to contact Vulkan. Contact anyone, in truth, but some selfish, scared, childish part of you wanted Vulkan. You wanted your husband. He will come. He will keep you safe. You will see him again. 

You held onto that thought as you caught sight of green and gold, half buried under the shattered remains of a half-constructed pillar. You saw his eyes catch yours, blood pouring from a wound on his head, and that flare of relief died a quick dark death as a roar echoed through the chamber.

Unbidden, you ducked lower. With a breath to steel yourself, you rose just enough to glance at what remained of the carved walkway you had been standing on. 

Digging out from the remains of stone and metal, a mass of green and black. All scales and claws and teeth.

A Salamander. A drake. The beast from which the legion had been given its name. 

It was terrifying.

The creature was huge. It easily dwarfed you. You’re sure some of its teeth were bigger than you. You would be dead if it got close, and you have no doubt it would have no trouble doing so. You have no weapons. None but your wit. Kessok has a bolter, but you doubt it will do much here, maybe slow it down. He was half buried, but it looked like he could still draw it, but he wouldn’t be able to get out of the debris easily. He was trapped.

As if sensing your thoughts, the beast turned its ravenous eyes on the pinned Marine. It gave a low hissing noise, pleased at the sight of helpless prey, and began to stalk towards the struggling morsel.

Some latent instinct grew furious at the sight.

Something within you snarled. 

How dare that thing set its sights on your friend? Your son? Kessok was yours. Vulkan was yours and so that meant his genesons were yours. It had no right. You would not let it. 

“Call Vulkan!” You shout as you dart out of your hiding place, sprinting to another pile of rubble.

“My Lady! No!” Kessok yells, but the monster's attention was already on you. It was a predator, you were prey. You ran, so it must chase.

And chase it did.

Maybe it thought you were wounded, or that it registered your shout as the challenge it was, or maybe it saw something running off on its own and followed the urge to pursue. To hunt.

It charged after you, steps thundering, but you didn’t look back. Didn’t dare. You jumped as you neared the stone slabs, and kicked off it with as much force as you could muster. The momentum of your run aided you, landing a small distance away but it was far enough as the shrieking collision of scale and stone and flesh and metal burst out from behind you, and even as you avoided the worst of it, you were still thrown.

Rolling with the force, you shoved yourself onto your feet and sprinted for the next bit of cover: A stalagmite that was large enough that it could hide three Astartes, if they huddled.

Wait.

Stalactites.

“Kessok! Above us!” You scream over the noise. You hope he heard you, but you had no time to think as you see teeth emerge on either side of your hiding spot. You lunge forward, throwing yourself out of the way just in time as you hear the crunch of hardened minerals reduced to sand and dust. No better than gravel. 

A risked glance of your shoulder as you rise from the tumbled roll you executed, and you realise with horror you could reach out a hand and touch it. You move.

You run around it as it flails, throwing the chewed stones about. You trip, but recover, another roll and you're on your feet and sprinting towards open ground where Kessok should have a clear shot. You hear the echoing ‘Bang! Bang! Bang!’ of a bolter firing, but you don’t dare let your focus stray from anything other than survival.

There, on the far end. Another pillar. Larger than the others, it survived the initial assault, it just may help you survive the next.

“Mother!” You hear the terror in the scream, and some instinct bites at the back of your neck.

Drop.

You do.

Stone bites at your skin, covered or not, as you skid across the ground. A sharp hollow snap above you is accompanied by a rush of wind, the beasts bulk above enough bathing you in shadow.

“To me! To me! Go! Run!” Kessoks shouts reach you, somehow, in the chaos of everything. Like a physical barrier, but he breaks through, and you bolt through the opening. Running before you’ve even gotten on your feet properly, but you don’t stop. Don’t dare.

You focus on the sound of gunfire, the flash of the muzzle, and let it guide you until you catch sight of your friend. He’s kneeling, he’s escaped the debris! His bolter is aimed high, shooting at something high above you, but you don’t spare any thought to it as you feel something rapidly gaining on you again.

There’s the echo of a crack, somewhere far away.

You dive into the Salamander Astartes arms as the Salamander beast bears down on you both.

He turns you away, putting himself between you and the lunging maw.

A wet snap and a hollow squelch break through the roaring, cutting it off as the boom of something hitting the ground at speed ricochettes through the cavern. The drag of something heavy across stone, slowing, and-

Stops.

You don’t know how long you sit there, curled against the ceremite, but eventually you hear breathing. Yours. And Kessoks.You feel the shift from his breathing. You feel the press of your lungs against your ribs, from your own.

Alive. You’re alive. You’re both alive.

Slowly, you raise your head, moving just enough to look up at the Space Marine who is looking down at you in uncomprehending wonder.

“We’re alive.” You whisper, gasping every breath.

“We’re alive.” He echoes, relief and triumph in his voice.

Together, you both shift just enough to look behind his bulk and spy the mess that was far too close.

The dead salamander, a spear of dark stone through its skull, laid in a heap before them. Eyes unseeing, but even in the blank stare of death you swore you could see the ravenous hunger and rage behind the glassy veil. You shiver and turn away, looking about at the destruction its short-lived rampage had wrought instead.

‘Holy shit.’ You think, staring blankly at the devastation. ‘We survived that.’ There were gouges in the stone floor from the beast's charge, deep enough you would need help climbing out if you fell in, and the massive stone pillar was little more than a stubborn stone stump now.

You felt the twin rush of pride and triumph, but exhaustion was encroaching and you felt it begin to dig into your bones.

“Do you think this will count as a courting gift?” You ask Kessok, you stares down at you in the Salamanders equivalent of ‘are you fucking serious?’ for several long moments before he threw his head back and laughed. Big, booming laughter that bounced off the walls of the cavern and seemed to beat back the oppressive fear and desperation that had filled the space like a flash flood.

“I think,” Kessok says as his laughter trickles off, “That once my genefather has assured your wellbeing and has calmed down, you will need to move up the wedding date.”

“Kessok!” You chide, giving his armour a light smack even as laughter overtakes you for a moment, completely ruining your attempt at acting upset.

Once you’ve both recovered from your adrenaline fueled mirth, your friend carefully sets you on the stone floor next to him as he shifts with a wince, settling into a more comfortable, restful, position as he does.

“You’re injured.” It’s not a question. His head wound has stopped bleeding, but you’re more concerned by what you can’t see. His armour no doubt hides much, but the way his knee sits concerns you.

“I will heal. May need to spend a few days with the Apothecaries, but I will be fine. I would gladly surrender a limb for your safety, My Lady.” He tries to assure you, but his words only cause you more distress.

“Don’t say that.” You hate how your voice wobbles, fingers tracing along the armour covering his shin, not daring to put any weight on it. You know, logically, that he wouldn’t feel it if you put all your weight on it, but the idea of him being in pain upsets you enough that any prospect of causing discomfort, even accidentally, makes you overly careful now.

Because you know it’s true. You had made friends with many Salamanders before news of your courtship with Vulkan had spread through the legion, and even the ones you never met would have risked life and limb to protect you because you were a baseline human, a member of humanity and the Imperium of Man. It was their duty, but now it was more. They would die for you, not just because you were one of the people they swore to protect, but because you were theirs. You were Vulkans, and so you were the Legions. You belonged to the Salamanders now. 

They loved you. Because Vulkan loved you. Because they loved you. You were kind to them, treated them not as heroes or weapons or lords or symbols, but as people. You didn’t shy away from them, despite their size and strength. You even scolded them when they were being ridiculous.

You remember one night Vulkan had told you, amusement and pride shining in his burning eyes, that he had heard of an incident where one of his captains threatened to tell ‘The Legion Mother’ of his brothers’ behaviour when a disagreement threatened to become a brawl, and they all immediately stopped fighting. You hadn’t truly believed him at the time, convinced maybe he was exaggerating or someone had flourished the details when retelling the story to him.

You believed it now.

Before the weight of realisation -of surviving, of nearly dying, of exhaustion, of the Salamanders calling her Legion Mother and what that really means- Kessok’s head snapped to the side, looking towards the city proper.

You followed his gaze, but knew you wouldn’t be able to see anything for a while. 

However, it wasn’t what you saw that had you sitting up and turning your eyes upward after several long seconds of silence.

It was sound.

The rumble-whirr of aerial transport.

Not even a minute later it was in view, a Thunderhawk rapidly approaching their location. You saw a large shape drop from the ship, and you didn’t know whether to curse or sigh, because you knew what, or rather who, that was.

“I’m not sure he was wearing armour.” Kessok comments idly, “Not that he needs it. Lord Father has defeated the firedrakes of Mount Deathfire with naught but his bare hands.”

“He can’t defeat gravity with his bare hands.” You grumble. You know, logically, that he’s fine. You’ve seen him drop from greater heights and walk it off like it was nothing more than a short ledge, but that won’t stop you from worrying.

You have time to give a fond, if exasperated, look to your guard before your husband comes into view, beating out the Thunderhawk by a good margin.

“Love!” His shout reaches you only moments before he does, closing the space within seconds. He drops to his knees and pulls you into his arms. You go willingly, trying to pull yourself up, close to him, but give up almost immediately and let him fold himself around you even as he looks over you, hands barely daring to brush around the edges of the scrapes and bruises. Afraid to touch you and yet unable to resist keeping you close.

“Oh my heartfire, my treasure, my sweet one.” There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you. Your heart lurches at the sight, and you reach up to cup his cheek.

“I’m alive. We’re alive. We’re okay.”

“You are not okay.” He refutes harshly, a growl turning his voice dark. “Look at you! You are covered in wounds, and Kessok…” He looks to his son, who seems to shrink in on himself under his father's burning gaze. Distantly, you notice his helmet is missing.

“Saved me.” You announce, your voice turning sharp and hard. “I would be dead a hundred times over if not for him. Even with a shattered knee, he didn’t stop fighting.” You didn’t want to fight, but if he tried to blame Kessok for your injuries, for the salamander attack, for anything, you were going to have to.

Vulkans eyes turn soft when they settle on you again. “I do not condemn him. I only wish to note he is also hurt.” You blink up at him, and relax in his hold once more.

“Oh.” You say, “Good. I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions.” You look over to where the Warhawk is landing, ramp already extended and Astartes pouring out like a green and gold landslide. You see three Apothecaries already making a beeline for your little group, and you raise a brow at your husband.

Clearly he doesn’t feel the need to act like he may have overreacted, because he returns your look with a serious stare. You sigh and lean forward to press a kiss over his hearts, the fabric of his tunic is smooth, and you rest your cheek against it. 

Now that you are in Vulkans arms, all strength has left you, adrenaline fading and in its place the exhaustion in your bones blooms. Making your muscles feel both hollow and heavy, your limbs leaden and like your very core buckles under its own weight, threatening to collapse with every breath.

“Do I need to stay awake?” You murmur, nuzzling into the warm safety of your Primarch as your eyes begin to droop.

“Just a few minutes, my treasure. Just for the Apothecaries to check you over.” He said quietly. You heaved a sigh of ‘okay’ as you pushed against him to sit up properly and face the trio of healers, though one was already attending to Kessok, thankfully.

The pair attending you worked seamlessly, checking you over, disinfecting wounds you didn't even know you had, patching you up, and asking questions that you could only half-answer. The details of the fight were sparse, though a few blurry details were beginning to form, like mist fading in the morning light. Rocks digging into your legs as you slide, the thrashing tail of the salamander beast as it snarled, the hot breath that carried the scent of rotting meat and death, Kessoks determined glare as he took aim…

It was quickly determined that you would need to go to a medical facility to aid in your recovery. Vulkan stood with you in his arms.

“Wait, My Lady.” Kessok spoke up as his brothers helped him stand, intent on also dragging him to a medical facility. Probably a different one, better suited to Astartes. “I think you’re forgetting something.” he says meaningfully, glancing from you to the beast behind them.

“Oh!” You sit up in your husband's arms, pausing to give a grateful smile to the grinning Salamander, before focusing your attention on the confused man holding you. “Vulkan, I formally present my offering to you.” You gesture to the dead salamander beast, “With Kessok as my hunting partner, who bravely aided me in this trial, and your sons as my witnesses, I give you proof of my devotion to you and intent to be worthy of you.”

Vulkan said nothing. Just stared. At you, at the beast, at the decimation of the area. Worry and nervousness began to eat at the edges of your heart as the silence dragged on. You looked to Kessok for guidance, suddenly fearing you had said it wrong. You know there’s no set script, not like with your people, for this, but you’re fairly certain you said the right things.

He gave you a comforting smile, which eased you somewhat, and you turned your attention back to the man you loved.

Finally, he turned his eyes back to you. You felt subtle tremors, fine and hidden, but there. Vulkan took in a slow, shaking breath, before gently lifting you up high so he could bury his nose in your hair. He took deep, measured breaths, those tremors growing in intensity for a moment before settling.

“You honour me. You honour my legion, my people, and I could not be more proud to have you at my side.” He announced, his words were smooth and steady, spoken lowly but you knew his sons heard. You press up into him, letting your hand rest in the crook of his neck.

“But never do this again?” You ask quietly, letting the moment pass.

“Never.” He agrees, fervent and voice heavy with emotion.

“Don’t plan to. How did it even get into the city?” You wonder, settling back down into his arms, letting him carry you towards the Thunderhawk.

“I’m not sure, but I plan to find out. It’s likely the construction caused a disturbance, on top of an increase in geographical activity, much of the fauna may have been displaced, leading to this one wandering too close to the city.” he sighed, “it doesn’t help that the perimeter alarms have not been properly set up yet. Whatever the case, I shall confer with the elders to confirm the cause and do what we must to ensure something like this doesn’t happen again.”

“Hmm.” You hum in understanding, steadily losing the battle to keep your eyes open. You feel lips on the top of your head.

“Sleep, my love. You need rest now.”

“Be there when I wake up?” You mutter, clutching at his tunic even as you sink into the comfortable darkness of sleep.

“Of course, nothing could keep me elsewhere.”

With that, you succumbed, and slept.

***

@incrediblethirst, @kit-williams, @beckyninja, @bleedingichorhearts, @jaghatai-khock, @pluvio-tea, @moodymisty, @thethronezone, @iluminatka16, @runin64, @vithralith, @mooniequeen

[pronouns-d-ace]

I have viridescent PV x SM stuck in my head after seeing your art and now I have come to ask if you perhaps have any headcanons of them,,,,

I guess this one goes more on the angsty side haha, but what If I said that SMilk can't help but feel guilty every time ViriPV gives him kisses, praises and treats him like if he was the most precious person he's ever seen.

Like, SMilk looooves to get compliments and constant reminders of how great he is, but with Viri PV is different because his adoration is so naive and blind to everything SMilk did to og PV. SMilk haaaateees being so weak with him and indulging in his love because he knows the love potion effect will wear off and Viri PV will finally realize what the beast of deceit is like and leave him for good

[post-it-notes7]

Please tell me this will be a happy ending

dearest anon, only time will tell

[dainesanddaffodils]

What if you were orphaned and made queen of a kingdom actively at war when you were FIFTEEN, and were also slowly DYING to the point where you could no longer move or speak

And then one day wake up healthier than you have ever felt only to learn it’s been 400 YEARS and that you were cryogenically frozen and your kingdom was told you DIED but that your memories had been implanted into an AI System so “you” could still govern them

And you learn that this you that isn’t YOU had been programmed by an organization that wanted to make EVERYONE AI and that doing so they have to harvest the souls/energy of living people in ALTERNATE UNIVERSES and even though you can’t imagine doing that the you that isn’t you had been programmed with your love for your people as such a driving force that she DID do that and when YOUR MORALS AND COMPASSION were at odds with her programming she chose to DELETE THEM so that they didn’t get in the way

And that it took a warrior princess and her friends from one of these alternate universes to stop that you that wasn’t you and that those people are the very ones that saved you and are explaining this to you now

Oh and ALSO there is now a THIRD version of you running around that is entirely fabricated with none of your memories or kindness and is trying once again to lead your people (who you can’t even really call YOUR people at this point) back on the AI Train

(Also the Warrior Princess might have had a crush on the other you she had to destroy)

Anyway Sphene I’m sorry about your life

[yupthisisshe]

Rose for the Lady - George Weasley x fem! Reader

(Rose for the Lady - George Weasley x fem! Reader)

Muggle-born students have really made Valentines Day take off at Hogwarts

Sixth-years were selling roses as a fundraiser and coming around to people during meals in the Great Hall to promote the fundraiser and take sales.

Susan Bones came over to where you and your friends were sitting.

“Roses for the lady?” they gestured to the twins (likely because you were sitting in between the both of them, something that always happened unless the twins were trying to be mischievous towards someone. But what could you say? The three of you were really close. You were close with Lee, too, of course. But the twins understood you.

Lately, Hermione and Ginny have been insisting that George is into you. You keep telling them that it’s hogwash and you’re just friends.

“For now. ~” is all they keep saying in response.

But this should prove your point. If he liked you, he'd buy roses for you from him. Not roses from the both of them, joking around with you like they always do. Roses from George specifically. And he won’t do that. He’ll either say no thanks or they'll both make of small show of presenting you with flowers as their mysterious and wonderful rendezvous lover. Or something like that. They get really creative with these impromptu stories.

What happened next, however, only proved Ginny and Hermione to be more credible.

“Yeah, I'll take a rose, thanks,” said George to [the sixth year]. Your eyes widened. You could feel Hermione and Ginny share a glance and a smirk. You looked at George like he’d become the next Nearly Headless Nick. “Here you go, for you.”

“You're joking.” you insisted, staring at the rose, your eyes wider still.

“No, really. For you, Beautiful.” Maybe all those times he called you “Beautiful” weren't just him messing around. I mean he made it clear that he really did think you were beautiful and not just kidding, but you still thought he was just teasing or playing around when he called you “Beautiful” as though it were your name. Of course you teasingly called him “Handsome” back. He was handsome, of course -really handsome when you think about it- but you didn't mean it like that. You just meant it like friends do. Unless… were you more than friends? Maybe he did mean it like that. And if he did, is that so bad?

You didn't think so, but you still needed to sort out how you felt. While it felt like ages had passed in your head, it had only been a few seconds in real life. A few seconds of you flat out staring at George while he smiled patiently —maybe admiringly too, when you thought about it— and everyone else stared at the two of you. Seamus looked like he was going to say something, but Dean nudged him and he stopped before he even started.

“I…” you didn't know how to react “I need to go! See you guys!” And with that, you exited the Great Hall as quick as you ever had.

In the hall, you thought to yourself. Confused, but also… in disbelief to be quite honest.

“‘I need to go?!’ ‘See you guys?!’ Seriously?!” You thought aloud to yourself. Sure, you weren’t sure how you should’ve responded. But you had a feeling it certainly wasn’t… whatever that was!

Back in the Great Hall, things were at a standstill.

Everyone sat there, confounded. What just happened? George himself not only looked confused, but also worried. Had he done something wrong? Did he upset you? And, whether or not he did, are you ok? He had to find out. He had to find you. Unscrunching his eyebrows, and with a decisive nod of his head, he decided what he needed to do. He left the table and set out to find you. Everyone else at the table sat there and waited for the drama to unfold. Not in a toxic way, of course, but their friends were oblivious idiots sometimes and they could appreciate that. Either Ron and Hermione or Ginny and Harry were sure to be next. Dean and Seamus had already gotten together. Somehow the two boys were the least oblivious of the group.

Back in the corridors, George found you.

You didn’t see George but you heard someone turning the corridor behind you and you knew it was him as he came further up the hall to you. You could feel it. And he was walking fast to find you quickly, but not running so he wouldn’t miss you.

“Hey! Wait up!” George called out to you. He had finally found you, wandering the halls. Something you always did when you couldn’t figured something out. The last thing you could do when you were like that —feeling stuck and restless in body and mind— was sit still. You once did two full laps around Hogwarts. Which doesn’t sound like a lot but becomes a bit of a massive venture when you consider the sheer size of the place, let alone the moving staircases and other magical features.

George had caught you. But you hadn’t figured everything out yet! You needed to figure things out before you talked to him! Or was it… vise versa? Did you need to talk to him in order to figure things out? But still, you didn’t feel ready. Despite your fight-or-flight feeling, you stopped in your tracks when you heard him call out to you. With his insanely long legs, it didn’t take him long to catch up to you where you stood. You didn’t turn around though, you just stood there.

“Hey,” he said sensitively but insensitively, placing a hand on your shoulder as he walked around to talk to you face-to-face. “Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?” You wouldn’t take your eyes off the floor.

“No. I just-“ You were fidgeting with your hands.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing his other hand on your empty shoulder and squeezing softly. “It’s ok. You don’t have to worry around me. Now, tell me what’s up. If you’re ready, that is.” He released your shoulders and then he waited patiently. Like he always does. God, he’s perfect. He always has been and thinking that he likes you like that, it makes your head spin and your heart light.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and then you asked him.

“Do you like me?”

He smiled softly and gave a bit of a breathy laugh. But before you could stress about whether that was a good or a bad thing he responded.

“Of course I like you. Wouldn’t hang around so much if I didn’t, now would I?” This prompted a smile out of you “Now, if you’re asking me whether or not I’m in love with you…” he paused and your heart stuttered, “I’ve been in love with you for two years.” His eyes poured beautifully into yours.

“You… really?” You couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, really!” He said in a loving, mocking tone. “So what do you think of that, Beautiful?” he asked, reaching his hand out to you to give you the option of taking it.

“I think, I like it,” you said taking his hand with a goofy, adorable smile.

“To feed your ego or your heart?” he teased.

“What ego?” You questioned with feigned ignorance. He laughed. “My heart, of course. I think I love you.”

“You think?!” he asked, smiling with his semi-feigned incredulousity.

“I’ve only just found out, George! Give me some time to settle into it!” You both laughed.

“I’ll give you all the time in the world and then some for whatever you need.” He said with love dripping from his voice. You could tell he was genuine and it made you smile. You leaned into him and he wrapped his unoccupied arm around you.

“That sounds good to me.”

[oheboi]