#Jeremy's Orphans

[mable-stitchpunk]

Going Home in a Box: Chapter 75- Teaser

“Are you sure you’re up to this?”

Maybe not but between getting stuck with his thoughts and having a distraction, Sunny would eagerly choose to throw himself back into caretaking and forget he existed. Especially since he was in for a treat tonight.

So, not even two days after the disaster that they weren’t going to talk about anymore, Foxy came by on Jeremy’s behalf and asked if Sunny would be up to watching his little group of animatronic children. Including the adorable Minireenas.

Freddy had noticed that something was off with Sunny that night. He had even asked, but Sunny didn’t want to open up about what was bothering him. He didn’t want to think about it.

But Sunny had eagerly agreed and assured Foxy to pass on the news to Jeremy. Tonight was the night and any minute now Jeremy would be coming in with his slew of little mechanic tots. He was ready.

“Sure am!” Sunny said with that confidence he only had when covering.

Jake didn’t press. He knew that they needed this tonight. The last few days- the last few quiet nights- had been practically unbearable. It was good to see Sunny a little perked up, even if some of it was acting.

Then the moment arrived. Marionette entered the daycare in an elegant purple and red coat and helped lead along a large laundry cart that Jeremy and Natalie were pushing from the back. Sunny took some amusement seeing that the blond had dropped most pretenses and was now actively assist in smuggling in their playmates. They wheeled it up as close as they could to the slide.

“Alright. If you need anything, just buzz me,” Natalie affirmed, tapping on the radio on her belt. She then hurried off back to the lobby before anyone could wander up and catch her in the act.

Jeremy waved after her while Marionette gave a chime of farewell before pulling out the first of Jeremy orphans- a small rabbit animatronic who stuck his arms and legs out while being lifted.

Just the sight of the little guy filled Sunny with reignited excitement, and he plunged into the ball pit. As he did, Jake stepped out onto the balcony to take his place, noticing the arrival of the others.

“Hey, guys!” he called with a wave.

“Hey!” Jeremy returned with a wave as well.

“Good evening!” Marionette called back. He came over to the wall to see him better, still toting Plushtrap cradled in his arms. “Thank you for having us.”

“No problem. Cool jacket!”

“Thank you!”  Marionette chimed with delight.

Plushtrap fussily patted his arm and pointed towards the slide. His teeth chattering with anticipation.

“Oh, alright, alright,” Marionette said with a tinkling chuckle. He then leaned down and set Plushtrap carefully into the slide. “Brace yourself. There’s a little drop into the ball pit,” he forewarned.

Plushtrap nodded, and Marionette gave him a gentle push, sending him down the colorful slide.

The little rabbit was fully expecting to plop down into a ball pit. He was not expecting to drop into a large pair of hands. Or be swooped up in front of a wide grinning sun-shaped face.

“Helllooo! What’s your name, lil guy?” Sunny asked cheerfully.

Plushtrap’s teeth began to chatter as he stared up wide-eyed.

“Careful! Careful! He bites when he’s nervous!” Jeremy called down.

“Oh, no worries! So do a lot of my Sunflowers, eheheh!” Sunny chittered as he reached to set Plushtrap down over the low wall. “Off you go! But not too far,” he said and patted his ears.

“Who’s next?” Marionette asked. Button gave a little wave. “Very good. Both of you?”

“Yes. Me too,” Bow agreed.

He scooped up the Bidybabs from the cart and carried them to the slide. They weren’t wearing their dresses today as to not have them get in the way, and the lack of clothing caused them to shoot down the slide frictionless.

Sunny caught Button and got cutoff mid-greeting to catch the second, holding one in each hand.

“Oh, HI! What’s your names, lil cuties?” he greeted excitedly, already gushing on how small and doll-like they looked.

“I’m Button and that’s Bow,” Button said. She sounded a little wary.

“You’re funny looking,” Bow said. She sound confused but curious.

“That’s because I’m a clown!” he chirped, then set them down alongside Plushtrap.

Jeremy gathered up the Minireenas himself to send them down. All of them, especially Lilium, were eager to go.

“Mike didn’t feel like coming today?” Jake called, directed to Marionette.

“Not tonight! Mike’s at home resting… Err, hopefully,” Marionette explained. “He had a big day today running errands.”

…

“You know, you’d think with our own printed napkins that we wouldn’t go through paper towels this fast,” Mike remarked as he dumped a large twelve pack of paper towels into the shopping cart.

“You think that’s bad? This has got to be a mistake,” Fritz said. He was leaning on the cart handle and looking at the shopping list Tabitha scribbled up for them. “Seventeen bottles of ketchup.”

“What’s she doing, bathing in it?” Mike asked flatly.

“Maybe. I just don’t understand why she didn’t make it an even twenty.”

“I guess it’s cheaper than bathing in blood to get that nice youthful skin. Alright, where to next?” Mike said, rubbing his hands together in lukewarm anticipation.

“The toilet cleaning stuff should be on this aisle somewhere,” Fritz said looking around. Mike grimaced a little at the thought. “That spray stuff’s not cutting it. We’re going to have to get in there with something strong. So, grab some gloves too.”

“Good thinking. I don’t want to go anywhere near that toilet on the end after last week.” He almost shuddered at the thought. “I think Carlton’s been avoiding it too because there’s still skids all over it. On the walls-.”

“I don’t want to think about that when we’re going to be getting our hands in it.”

“Do you want to think about how we’re going to have to clean under arcade machines we haven’t moved in about a year?”

“I don’t want to think about that either.”

[too-pretty-for-this-mess]

Carson Family Group Chat—

Glyn's Problem Now (Killian): So apparently, saying "I’ll harvest your organs for science" in med school is ‘concerning’.

Reina’s Loyal Dog (Asher): It is.

Shakespeare But Unhinged (Kayden): Why would you warn them first?

Sunshine With Issues (Gareth): That’s what you’re worried about???

Golden Uterus (Reina): Sweetheart, maybe rephrase it next time?

Killian’s Emotional Support Human (Glyndon): There should not be a next time.

[doctorsiren]

Day 29 of Sirentober / Doctober

Technoblade / Jerma

They’re watching the FNAF movie 🤭

[rafflesbunny]

holmes and watson adopt a child who is just a baker street irregular who looked a bit too sad on their front porch in the cold winter...."wow watson look at this...fascinating! this baker street irregular is sells flowers and is also six!" and watson is like "HOLMES THAT POOR GIRL IS FREEZING TO DEATH LET HER IN!" and that's how they became girldads.

[womeninfictionandirl]

Cassandra Cain by Jeremy Haun

[meganechan05]

Karaoke Night

Where Rita scares the ever living shit out of the team with a children's song

[lapdogchase]

all right boys lets GET THESE NUMBERS UP!!!!!! 💪

[painted-lemon]

reblogging my own post to say:

its better than drugs Jeremy iiiits ORPHAN ESSENCE

can we talk about how jake and emmas main modivation in library of souls is "we need to find our freinds before the bad guys turn them into DRUGS" i dont know any other book where most of the main cast is in danger of being turned into DRUGS

i love these books

[hypernova-writes]

*sad little brazilian orphan kid voice* oi moça... yanking scout by his dog tags and kissing him to shut him up. thats it :3 a lil suggestive in the end perhaps

Literally have had a dream about this! Also headcanons with Nova time! Scout's very sensitive when it comes to his neck, he doesn't let just anyone touch his neck nor yank on his tags! You would have to be literally the object of his affection for you to get close enough to do it!

Scout x Reader: Babe, You're rambling.

"So You're sure ya not annoyed by me?"

You look up from your book, eyebrow cocked as you and your boyfriend were chilling in his room after a day of battling.

"Jeremy. Honey we've been through this—"

"Yea yea, If I truly annoyed you, you would've been dumped me by now BUT THATS NOT THE POINT–"

You sigh and prepare yourself as he starts going on and on.

"I feel like ya just saying that to get me to shut up! Which if you wanted me to shut up ya could just tell me instead of lyin'!'

"And I'm not accusin' ya of lyin' but I'm just saying! A smokin' hot babe like you can't like someone like me! I mean look at me!"

He leans closer to you, his hands on his hips as he continued on, all while you crossed your legs and tilted your head. You looked at him with a soft smile as he continued on and on.

"Jeremy."

"And and don't even get me started on how today went! I know you were busy on the field but you didn't even give me my good luck kiss!"

"Jeremy."

"Look if I did something babes tell me! You know i don't like havin' ya upset at me especially if I did somethin'."

You sighed, it was useless, he's worked himself up and there was only way that you could get him to stop.

You leaned forward, your fingers hooking around his dog tags and pulled him forward, slamming your lips against his.

You could feel his body tense before it relaxes as you pull the two of you back onto the bed. He places his hands on either side of your head to brace himself. His lips move against yours slowly before you finally loosen your grip around his dog tags.

He looks down at you, speechless and breathless a bit before he collapses, laying on your chest, allowing you to rub his back.

"I hate when you do that.."

"Why? Cause it turns you into putty? I thought you liked it when I mark up your neck~"

"H-hey! I do..meanie.."

[cheemscakecat]

Bucket Scene Analysis pt. 1

So I’m revisiting the Bucket Scene from Expiration Date, and I noticed some things. Spy’s feelings got really hurt, but the other Mercenaries didn’t mean to seriously upset him. Let’s go over their POV first.

Engineer and Medic are doing more experiments on the teleporter, so they aren’t present for the bucket scene. They’ll be trying to figure out a way to stop the tumors for the next three days instead of accepting the team’s deaths.

Soldier is too dumb to understand what’s going on, and Pyro presumably isn’t aware enough of his surroundings.

Demoman comes from a family with really disturbing traditions; they let him live as an orphan and only revealed themselves after he killed his adoptive family in an explosion… Because he was showing his skill. He’s actually expected to lose his sight entirely like his parents. Out of anybody there who knows what’s happening, he’s the most unbothered by them dying because of that twisted heritage.

Sniper calls his parents every week, and I’m sure he’s told them/about to tell them what’s happening. But he also has a plan to kill everyone he meets, so even if he is bothered by the fact that he’ll die, he’s not going to make the others privy.

Heavy has been responsible for his three sisters and his mother since he was a child. Around them, he’d be a bit more open and accept their hand on his shoulder.. But not Spy. Around co-workers, Heavy’d rather think on what’s happening and be left to those thoughts. Besides that, he already provided a secluded cabin in Siberia for his family to keep them safe, so if he dies at work he’ll be at peace knowing they’re ok.

I very much get the vibe that Spy never puts his hand on the others like this, and that’s why Heavy hit him with that Side-eye Claire face.

Now Scout? He’s an interesting case because he’s about to humiliate Spy with the fake cards, but in terms of them dying in three days:

“Ve have three days to live!”

It’s subtle, but he looks like he might cry. Not in front of them, but still. And that tracks, because he and Spy are the most sensitive members of the team. You can look at Spy’s reaction behind Medic, and it becomes more obvious.

But Jeremy wasn’t raised by Spy.

He was raised by his mother [who’s doing her best] and seven older brothers who are terrible role models. I have no doubt that his brothers were involved in petty street crime and gangs when they were younger, even if some came to their senses as adults. And gangs are not well known for emotional stability.

Scout grew up around seven guys that wanted to be “hard” and ignored their emotional needs/daddy issues… As the youngest and the most sensitive one. I imagine that crying and showing that something is getting to you was met with mockery. And being labeled a weakling. So Scout did his best to stop showing that “weakness”.

Now he’s graduated from the criminal fights his brothers used to get into, and joined a group of mercenaries. Since he looked up to his brothers and grew up imbedded in their worldview, he seeks approval from the other Mercenaries in the same way. That’s why he chooses to mock Spy instead of asking for the last wishes. It makes him look unbothered and he can call Spy the weak one instead of being cruelly labeled himself.

But RED team doesn’t operate like Scout’s siblings or a gang. They’re all individuals that specialize in a certain area of mercenary work, who could leave for a different team or independent work if they weren’t happy on the team. [Provided they don’t release any information that the Administrator wants hidden, or rebel against her.]

So when Scout pranks Spy, they aren’t seeing his as a weakling; it’s not even crossing their minds. They’re smiling because Scout seems happy despite impending doom. And why shouldn’t they be glad that he’s having a good time of it? Beats being dejected and since he’s the youngest, they’re more worried about his well-being.

What’s interesting is that Heavy seems to sense that Spy is upset, because his smile noticeably fades when he looks up. But I still don’t think he realizes how much this prank and the teams’ indifference hurt Spy.

[dathen]

Because the book is Everyone Loves Mina: The Saga, we don’t have a direct reference for how she’d act if someone was being an asshole to her face

But her reaction in The Holmwood Foundation feels right. She takes it so much in stride, with a bit of private humor. Then it struck me that of COURSE she’s dealt with assholes before. She grew up a working, lower-middle class orphan, and was an assistant schoolmistress at a girls’ school with rich students like Lucy.

You KNOW this woman has dealt with so many Nightmare Parents. Jeremy is probably child’s play in comparison.

[woah-uhuh-uhuh-uhuh]

christine's blog is full of reblog charms and spread this like wildfires and jeremy reblogs every single one of them out of fear and obligation. she spends hours weekly customizing her theme to reflect her current mood and fandom. slaps an experimental 'chris, any pronouns' in her bio just to see how it feels. (nobody refers to her in third person so she never finds out). writes soooo much meta and takes stimboard requests but is wracked with guilt when she gets behind on them. constantly reblogs her own posts telling everyone to go to MHS to see this semester's theater production even though none of her followers are from MHS or even live in new jersey

jeremy desperately wants to dm christine but he has to wait for her to make the first move because his main account is a multifandom roleplay blog named after his x-men oc who hes been trying to convince everyone doesn't exist after michael used that name for him in public one time

michael mell is a reddit fanboy. he posts theories about his fandoms. he’s subscribed to r/ApocalypseOfTheDamned and r/WorldofWarcraft. he is the kind of person to make speedrun videos and walkthroughs and make compilations of “the weapons in aotd ii ranked on how likely they are to be used by a toddler” type shit. 

jeremy heere, on the other hand, is a tumblr fanboy. sure, he posts about theories, but he’s a hopeless romantic. you look at that boy and tell me he doesn’t post shitty fanart and bad fanfic. he plays apocalypse and writes silly little stories about the characters kissing and also dying horrible deaths. 

if anyone’s wondering, christine’s also a tumblr girlie. she keeps tabs on jeremy’s account. she finds it endearing and always leaves kudos on his fics as a guest. (she also is a pinterest fangirl. if u even care.)

[taviacoolcat]

jerejean tangled au plaguing my thoughts...jeremy as rapunzel and jean as flynn ryder...jeremy having magical blond hair that turns to brown when cut...and living in a tower with his abusive mother...orphan jean turning to crime after his rough childhood...and all he wants is enough money so he can live alone and away from society...etc etc

[corpseri]

ᝰ.ᐟ serenity | 026 (route 2)

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ novel: twtptflob/roxana

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ databank: here

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ word count: 2.2k

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tags: @evaxmisu, @00hellohello00, @welpthisisboring, @hsrvl264, @flyingpansaurus, @semi-wife, @elvinapandra

◄ PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ►

                                    ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

you push the door open with your shoulder, already mid—sentence as you step inside.

“how was your mission, dear?” you ask, not bothering to hide the eagerness in your voice.

the soft thud of the door closing behind you is followed by silence, save for the faint sound of wind brushing against the windows. dion is there, exactly where you expected him to be — sitting on the edge of your shared bed, his hands resting idly on his knees. the late afternoon light filters through the curtains, casting a warm, hazy glow over the room and his face.

his hair’s grown longer again. it brushes the nape of his neck now, dark and soft—looking. he hasn’t cut it in a while — maybe out of laziness, or maybe because you said once that you liked it a little messy.

“it was alright,” he responds after a pause. then, without skipping a beat, “our second year anniversary is soon.”

you blink, caught off guard. “i’m surprised you remember,” you chuckle, kicking off your shoes and crossing the room in slow, lazy steps.

“you weren’t exactly subtle about it last year,” he says, lifting an eyebrow as you draw closer. “you had jeremy yell at me from a distance every time he saw me until the day was over.”

you laugh, climbing onto the bed and swinging your legs around to straddle his lap. your hands settle naturally on his shoulders, and his arms loop around your waist like it’s second nature. you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips — quick, but familiar.

“and you listened, didn’t you?” you murmur against his mouth.

he hums. his fingers trace light patterns along your back, absentminded.

“yggdrasil is tomorrow, right?” you ask, settling more fully against him. the warmth of his body seeps into yours.

“yes. but will you?”

you pull back slightly, just enough to look at him. “nah. your father genuinely forgot about me. all the hype of being from another world is gone now, he couldn’t care less about me. actually, he started not to care just after the first yggdrasil.”

dion smirks, one hand moving up to toy with a strand of your hair. “he’s your father too now, you know?”

you wrinkle your nose. “ew, no. i’m okay, thanks. i’ve been orphan—ing my whole life, and i quite enjoy it. same goes for maria. she’s still creepy as hell, she insists on calling me her daughter.”

“she’s quite fond of you.”

“yeah, too fond if you ask me,” you mutter. “apparently she’s a cannibal, and i don’t want her ass near me.”

dion raises an eyebrow. “is that what you heard?”

“well yeah. it wasn’t in the novel though, it was in a character profile or a side story or something, so maybe i’m wrong. is she actually a cannibal?”

there’s a small sound behind you, and then — chuckling. low and smooth.

“who knows?” he says, clearly enjoying himself.

you twist slightly in his lap, giving him a look. “you do, didi.”

“hmmm yes, i do.”

the two of you break into soft, airy laughter, the kind that lingers in the space between your chests. you shift your weight, letting your head rest on his shoulder, your fingers drawing slow, lazy circles on his arm.

after a moment, you ask, “you must have been cute as a kid, right?”

he tilts his head. “maybe. what brought this on?”

you smile into the crook of his neck. “i dunno, i was feeling a bit nostalgic when talking to roxana and jeremy, so i was wondering.” you pause, then suddenly perk up, eyes lighting with mischief. “o—oooohhh you must have been so cute in your little dresses!” you squeal, kicking your feet excitedly like a child.

dion stiffens slightly. “how do you know that?”

you glance up at him with mock innocence, a wide grin pulling at your lips. “did you forget who you’re talking to?”

he sighs, running a hand down his face in defeat. “what should i do with you?”

you giggle, reaching up to ruffle his longer hair between your fingers. “maybe cut your hair a bit before deciding what to do with me,” you say, letting the strands fall back into place.

the two of you sit like that for a while, soft and still, with no rush to fill the silence.

three days later:

in the original story, roxana used fontaine’s ‘betrayal’ to make lante come back early which was where he died. but since he’s already dead, they’re back normally. now we wait until cassis comes.

you follow behind roxana as she walks through the quiet corridor, the sound of her boots echoing softly against the polished stone floor. despite the calm, there’s tension in the air — like the moment before a storm breaks.

she moves with purpose, as always. there’s never a moment where she seems unsure of herself. but even so, you can tell she’s thinking, calculating something behind those still, unreadable eyes.

you glance at her from the side. “what do you have planned again?” you ask, your voice low but curious. maybe you already know. maybe you just want to hear her say it again, to ground yourself in the story that’s steadily beginning to unravel.

roxana doesn’t slow her pace. “i’ve told you before, haven’t i?” she says, her tone even and matter—of—fact. “i planted evidence on a guard at agriche for embezzlement who will be trialed in the courtroom. it would have been better if his case was more urgent that we could leave immediately, but father was certain he would not escape if he wanted his punishment to be less severe,” she explains once more, voice dipping a little lower near the end. then, without looking at you, she adds, “then, the beginning of the end will start.”

you nod slowly, watching her expression. it hasn’t changed. still calm. still composed. like she’s talking about the weather instead of burning a legacy to the ground.

“i see,” you murmur. a part of you feels small next to her — she’s a force, a hurricane in a flowy dress. still, you want to be part of something, not just a stray line in someone else's arc. “is there anything you need me to do?” you ask, almost hopefully. your voice comes out a bit quieter than intended.

roxana glances at you with the faintest of smiles — soft, but a little distant. “there’s no need. all you need to do is sit back and relax as you watch the demise of agriche.”

you wish she needed you more than that, but you nod anyway. maybe being a witness still counts for something.

the two of you stop walking at the edge of the next hallway. the courtroom isn’t far now. it’s strangely quiet, the kind of quiet that makes your ears ring. neither of you speaks for a moment.

you lean back against the wall, eyes on the polished floor. “yeah, about that… when you leave agriche,” you say, voice cautious now. not nervous — just careful. “don’t shut jeremy out. he would be heartbroken.”

that gets her attention. roxana’s gaze shifts toward you slowly, searching your face for any sign of exaggeration. “i see? did i avoid him when agriche burned down last time?”

you nod, remembering. the text comes back sharper than expected — jeremy, alone in the courtyard, trying to pretend he wasn’t waiting for someone who never came. “yeah, you did. and he was upset. hell, it even made me feel bad for him.”

roxana’s eyes narrow just slightly, the thought clearly lingering longer than she expected. “i see… thank you.” a few heartbeats pass, and then she exhales, reaching for the door beside her. her fingers press against the wood for a moment before she pushes it open. “well, let’s get going, shall we?”

you straighten, brushing off your sleeves, feeling the shift in energy. the quiet before is gone now, replaced by the sharp scent of inevitability. “yeah,” you say, stepping forward with her. “let’s go.”

you both enter the courtroom, the windows seeping in red from the sunset, casting long, bleeding shadows across the marble floor. the light drips down the walls like war paint, and for a moment, it feels like the whole room is holding its breath.

you stand behind lante, close enough to hear the smolder of his cigar and the rasp of his breath. he stands tall, cruel in posture, towering over the man kneeling before him. the guard’s armor is dented, blood at the edges of his lips, eyes wide in desperation.

“m—master lante. it’s all a misunderstanding…” the guard stutters, his voice thin, cracking like dry wood. he bows his head lower, shoulders trembling, trying to shrink into nothing.

lante doesn’t answer with words at first. he simply lifts his cane and points it at the guard’s face, like a death sentence carved from silver and fury. “garbage,” he mutters. the word alone makes the man flinch. “how dare you!” lante suddenly yells, fury flaring. the cane comes down with a crack, striking the man hard across the face. the sound of it echoes in the hollow courtroom, sharp and brutal.

you gasp before you can stop yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you instinctively take a step back. your stomach twists at the sight of it, but your eyes can’t seem to look away.

dion moves beside you without a word, his presence solid and grounding. he places himself slightly in front of you, like a shield — as if he’s done this a thousand times before. his hand doesn’t touch you, but you feel its warmth close enough to calm your shaking breath.

but you still can’t stop watching.

“you think i don’t know what you’re doing behind my back?!” lante roars, another strike landing. the man crumples further, blood now dripping from his nose and temple, staining the floor in a growing puddle.

the courtroom is silent, aside from lante’s grunts and the wet sounds of the cane connecting with skin. the guards stand stiff, unmoving. the weight of the moment presses on your chest like a stone.

“is it over yet…?” you whisper, voice barely audible.

“it will soon,” roxana murmurs beside you, calm like always, eyes sharp.

lante finally halts. he places the cigar in his mouth again, puffing once before glancing to the guard at his side. “fire.”

“yes,” the guard says quietly. he steps forward, striking a match and lighting the cigar with reverence, like feeding flame to a god.

the smoke coils in the air.

then, lante extends his hand without a word, and the butler approaches swiftly, placing a sword into his open palm. the steel gleams under the blood—red light.

he grips it tight.

“you continue to disgrace this family,” he hisses, stepping closer to the barely-conscious man. “i should make you suffer for the embarrassment you put me through. but,” he says, dragging the blade across the man’s cheek, slow enough to sting but not deep enough to kill, “i have no time to waste on the likes of you. so i’ll make your death quick.”

he raises the sword — but then, a shift.

soft footsteps.

roxana moves. silent and fluid, she walks past him, unbothered by the tension in the room. she doesn’t spare the dying man a glance, nor the blood on the floor. instead, her heels click softly as she crosses the chamber and ascends the steps to the throne.

everyone watches her, unsure whether to speak or stop her.

lante lowers the sword slightly, brows furrowing.

“what are you doing?” he asks, voice low and warning.

roxana runs a hand along the armrest of the throne. she turns and sits slowly, one leg crossing over the other. the throne — lante’s throne — fits her too well. just like in the manhwa. she looks beautiful.

“i’ve always wanted to sit here,” she says, tone light, almost amused. “i am curious about the feeling when i look down from this place.” she leans her cheek against her palm, resting her elbow on the throne. her eyes meet his, bright and unbothered. “seeing everyone from here… you look a bit small, hah?”

a flicker of rage crosses lante’s face.

“now you disrespect me?!”

roxana only chuckles, her voice soft and deliberate. “don’t get angry like that. haven’t you ever doubted this?”

he glares. “what?”

“all of this—”

and then, it begins.

a sudden breeze stirs the courtroom, though no windows are open. from the edges of the room, shadows curl, and her butterflies begin to appear—glowing, ethereal, delicate wings flickering in purple hues. they swirl around lante, slow at first, then faster. like dancers in a ritual.

a glowing circle lights up around his feet, intricate symbols etched in violet flame.

lante stumbles, legs forced down. he collapses to his knees, eyes wide in disbelief.

“hah,” you finally let out after a while. “i’m honoured to see this in real life,” 

“this is all for you,” roxana says, holding out her hand. a single purple butterfly lands on her finger, wings pulsing gently. she smiles, cradling it like it’s fragile glass. “this is just a play.”

the butterfly flutters once, then takes flight again — disappearing into the swarm.

[jeremywasriven]

wip jeremy king

he said he wanted to be a business major right? this is what i think he'd look like more realistically (i remember in one of the qna things they said he'd grow a goatee/beard and it was more similar to my ref so happy days!). its kinda disturbing how much i still remember abt him and how many years i dedicated to being obsessed with jeremy king. how do i remember he wanted to be a business major. he never even mentioned it in the games it was just a one off post.... jesus

i wanted to use to occasion check my progress since i began drawing. this is one my first drawings i ever did of him!

ive also been enjoying reading my old fanfiction about him. some of it kind of holds up and others.... errr........ might get orphaned one day lol