#yonduweek2018

[ravager-life-for-me]

Pretend I know what proportions are, because I do not. Orange day for Yondu Week 2018!

[jellybeanforest-a-go-go]

Day 1: Lady in Red

Prompts Filled: Red, Music, Ability

“Really, the joke had long worn thin, and it was barely funny the first time.”

From Chapter 6 of my first completed Kragdu fic, Unfinished Business, in which Yondu and Meredith Quill (platonically) bond post-death over a shared love for their son. In this scene, Yondu learns Peter takes after his mother. A lot. What has he ever done to deserve this?

Oh. Right.

It’s going to be a long afterlife.

Note: For all you young-uns, “Lady in Red” is a really catchy, really annoying 1986 hit song by Chris de Burgh. 

Also, this was created using scrap colored cardstock and scratchbook paper. Each color was separately drawn, assembled, and glue-sticked together. So, why are they in a flower field, you ask? It’s because I used the top portion for an unrelated project over three years ago and kept the scrap like a hoarder. 

I’ve planned one per day for Yonduweek, so stick around y’all.

[marsinthecorner]

Yondu Week 2018 @yonduweek Day 7: Purple, Goodbye The last one ya'll! This has been fun as hell, and I managed to do all seven days! Holy fuck!💜💙💜💙

[lu-vlads]

Day Seven, 27th: Purple, Goodbye, Warmth, Travel, Clothes

Didn’t complete Yondu Week like I always do with everything

[marsinthecorner]

Yondu Week 2018 @yonduweek

Day 3: 1st - Despair and Family; 2nd - Yellow and Family

Yondu lost his first family, but gained a new one…no matter how brief it was.😢

[jellybeanforest-a-go-go]

Day 5: Take Me Home, Country Road (Fanart)

Prompts Filled: Blue, Death, Stars

Triple the Yondu!

This is fanart for @write-like-an-american fic Take Me Home, Country Road (TW for Implied Suicide) in which Yondu meets Lady Death, who grants him one question before reaping his soul.

From Write’s wonderful fic:

“Most mortals wore a thousand faces. They donned a new one for each emotion that flitted across the squishy wet sacks of their brains. Yondu had surprisingly few. His wobbly blue form, projected from his own self-image, glitched between a trio of states.

The first was a pirate, considerably taller, broader, and more swashbuckly than Udonta had been in life. His prosthetic rose high above his scar-trellised scalp.

The second – smaller, older, with a weathered and wearied expression – had shattered crystal wedged in his skull. Molten quartz stuck to the creases on his forehead.

The third was a toddler, no more than two. He crouched before Death, naked and filthy, cringing where the first stood tall and the second slumped in defeat. Of all of them, his crest was tallest: standing a half-foot from his vertebrae at its tallest point, marred only by the hole tunnelled through it by the collar.”

[marsinthecorner]

Yondu Week 2018 @yonduweek Day 2: Orange, Child, Fantasy The fantasy of having a child and starting a family with Yondu is one a lot of us enjoy. The thought of him cradling an infant just warms my heart!😄💕 Plus I needed some fluff after the last edit.😢

[ravager-life-for-me]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Rating: General Audiences

Characters: Yondu Udonta, Stakar Ogord, Martinex

Summary:  Stakar has made Yondu the new Captain of the Eclector. All he has to do is pick the colors he's going to fly under.

Ravager Red

It was pretty in the dark. In the dark, where all the twinklers bit the void in shifting constellations. Too many to know; he weren’t no star charter, no navigation expert. He was a battle-hardened bastard with a mean-sweet whistle and the fist that would claw himself a crew that would make his Captain proud.

Not his Captain no more. His Admiral.

Still. It was pretty in the dark.

Yondu was scuttled away in one of the viewports, a leg kicked up against the freezing sill while the other dangled on down to the grated floor. Somewhere lost on the third level deck, which was far enough away from the mess and the hangar that nobody came by much, ‘cept for anybody making a run to the storage lockers that were bubbled up like pimples on the starboard side of Stakar’s Warbird. Quiet little place. That’s the point. A favorite place of the little runt slave they’d taken off that Kree battle cruiser not more ‘an three solar cycles ago?

How time she flies, the arrow sprung loose and searching. Read more on Ao3