#everyone else has been winning with their ships this year and I never thought it would be my turn

[damiansgoodgirll]

 hi, can you please make a story where reader is young like 19 or 20 and everyone loves her and she’s a pretty close friend with basically everyone in the wwe and one day she has a match with like Nia or someone else and she gets injured so bad that everyone around her is worried sick.? maybe she has a closer feeling with the judgement day or Jey but like if you can mention more wrestlers it would be amazing. Thank you so much. I love your writing 

i love this type of requests cause it makes me travel back in time when i was 13 and i used to play wrestling with my best friend (don’t do this at home) and i remember everyone loving me…anyway

sorry for making nia the bad one!

the judgment day x reader (platonic) / jey uso x reader (platonic)

home is where you belong

you never thought you would find it but you did. the place where you felt safe and loved, the place that you called home.

you’ve been wrestling since you were fifteen and once you got eighteen wwe signed you in. two years later now you were living your dream;

travelling from city to city, having sleepovers with your wrestling friends, gossiping about what people you shipped together, talking nonsense with seth rollins and having becky teasing him, watching and learning new techniques from jey uso, training with the judgment day.

everything was a dream for you.

the fans loved you. even if they weren’t fans about your character, they still liked your persona and your positive energy. you had no enemies, you pretended of course, but you had no enemies at all.

many elders took you under their protective wing and you couldn’t be more grateful.

you we are currently training with rhea as you had a big match against nia and you wanted to be ready. you both already knew that the judgement they were gonna help you win this match because, according to the script they had to ruin this moment for you and for nia, but you didn’t care because you knew how fun it was going to be.

so you were ready to kick her ass.

nia, otherwise, wasn’t as happy as you thought. the idea of losing against some teenager like you made her blood boil. she was more experienced than you so why would you had to win? plus, by getting helped by the judgment day?

she didn’t like the idea but she didn’t tell you.

she had something else in mind.

so you were getting ready, your make up flawless, your hair perfectly posing over your shoulders and a smile that could make happy anyone who met you.

you were so ready.

you heard the “boos” when nia entered the ring and you heard everyone cheering for you when you entered. that’s how it was supposed to be so why did she have an envious look in her eyes?

you pretended it was nothing and you started the match as it was supposed to go.

ten minutes later, the judgment day music echoing through the arena, just like the script said.

rhea distracting nia.

following exactly what the script said.

so what did go wrong?

nia attacked rhea. it wasn’t in the script but rhea knew how to handle situations like that.

you could tell by damian’s look that this wasn’t supposed to happen but you took it as an opportunity to distract nia and make your final move, move that made you win that match.

earlier on the schedule but still, you had your win.

“someone beat your ass…” rhea screamed into the microphone, unleashing mixed reactions through the crowd. everyone cheering for you because of your win, not everyone was happy with the way you won but still, you better than nia.

that set her off.

she didn’t like the idea of a teenager beating her but she hated even more the way the crowd laughed at her face, making her seem weak, not strong enough.

the judgment day were leaving the arena, just like the script told them to do after your victory, so what didn’t go as planned?

you were still in the ring, fans clapping for you, the referee still held your hand high and as you were about the leave, nia hit you behind your back.

this wasn’t prepared.

you fell to your knees and before you could do something she dragged you through your hair into the middle of the ring.

“nia?” you said almost too terrified.

the referee tried to get into the two of you but nia pushed her away, hurting her.

“who do you think you are?” she said hoovering you with her body.

“nia what?” you weren’t understanding. why was she doing that? she was your friend, she wasn’t supposed to hurt you.

“don’t act so dumb…” she whispered before attacking you.

for real this time.

nothing prepared.

she was really hurting you. your face first, then your stomach, she kept hurting you, punching you over and over until you couldn’t feel your body anymore.

your head and nose were bleeding.

referees weren’t able to stop her either.

rhea and damian were the first one to intervene when they saw that the referee couldn’t stop her.

rhea attacking her, the referees, trying to get between the two of them, so damian so that as an opportunity to shield you with his body. he could handle nia attacking him.

“damian?” you almost cried.

“hey…shh it’s okay, i got you” he said, slowly moving your hair out of your face and it was in that moment that he saw your bleeding face.

“dam…it hurts” you said clenching your stomach. he felt his heart breaking. the way you were clenching your chest, the way your hands trembled a little, your bleeding face and your eyes full of tears.

he was mad. furious.

“i know…ssshhh…we will take care of you i promise” he whispered.

the crowd was cheering, assuming everything was scripted, but there was an uncomfortable silence going behind the scenes.

everyone watching what was happening in horror.

becky had tears in her eyes and seth was trying to keep her and himself calm because he was mad. cody was speechless. jey ran out of his locker room just to be stopped by the security. dom and finn paralysed in their steps as they were watching everything happening right before their eyes.

that’s what it went wrong.

thankfully, rhea and referees were able to drag nia away from the ring. she knew she went too far but her pride was something she wasn’t willing to give up.

damian was still in the ring with you as medical staff came and assisted you.

you already fell unconscious when damian lifted you up in his arms and dragged you down onto the stretcher waiting for you backstage.

you were rushed to the hospital and honestly no one felt like continuing the show but they had to. jey was next but all he wanted to do was rush to the hospital and stay by your side.

you didn’t even realised that when you woke up you weren’t in some hotel room but you were in a hospital bed. your head still pounding when you remembered what happened.

the doctor told you that you had a few broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder,a broken wrist, a sprained ankle and a heavy concussion. not to count all the bruising and red spots forming all over your body.

then what you didn’t want to hear : no wrestling for at least four months.

your body needed to rest and heal first.

you were trying to hold in all the tears but eventually let them out when the doctor left your room. you were supposed to have your first main event at wrestlemania and now that dream was gone.

while still crying a soft knock echoed through the room.

damian first, then rhea with the rest of the judgment day.

“hey…” she whispered but her heart broke when she saw the tears in your eyes “why are you crying pretty girl?” she asked sitting on the chair next to your bed, followed by the boys who sat on the small couch right beside the window.

“bye bye wrestlemania…” you said with a broken voice.

everyone knew how much you’ve been waiting and wanting that moment.

“i’m so sorry y/n…” she said softly.

“its just it’s not fair…” you whispered “why did she do that? i thought she was my friend…i would have never done that to her rhea…never”

“i know love…because you know your value, you’re kind and sweet and loving and unfortunately you’ve met someone who thought about her ego and her ego only…” she said smiling sadly at you.

“what matters now is that you rest and take your time to heal” damian joined the conversation “you scared everyone back there…” he said making you smile a little.

“i didn’t mean to…”

“we know…or you could tell them that yourself” finn joked.

“what?” you whispered.

“everyone’s here…jey almost punched the doctor when they wouldn’t let him see you” dom laughed “becky is here with seth, cody and shayna are here too…girl you even scared gunther”

“i don’t believe it…” you laughed.

“we can make you believe that” jey said entering the room with a beautiful bouquet of red roses. everyone followed him too.

you were relieved in seeing so many people caring for you in a way not even your friends cared about. you felt loved and appreciated.

you’ve spent the next hour talking nonsense with them all and you almost forgot about the wrestling problem thing.

almost.

when everyone left for your check up with the doctor, the only one who stayed was jey.

he was the only one who noticed the shift in your mood and he knew what was like staying away from what you love do the most, so if you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was willing to do that, if you needed a friendly advice, he was willing to do that too.

“care to tell me what’s on your mind sweetheart?” he asked when the doctor left.

“i’m going to miss all of these…four months of not seeing you all days, no wrestling, no wrestlemania and probably no summerslam too…it’s just, i feel useless and empty not doing what i love jey” you confessed.

“you’re not useless at all, and it’s normal to feel nostalgic right now but it’ll pass and i promise you that you’ll be on your feet for when summerslam comes! i promise you” he said sitting next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder - the healthy one - “i wish i could have done something to stop her but i was the useless one…i hated seeing you in so much pain…she lost her mind and finally she lost her job too”

“what?” you whispered.

“yup! got fired…you know you could sue her right?” jey asked.

“i would never do that…”

“i know…you’re too kind for that…what she did was wrong and completely unacceptable but i’m glad you’re here…” he said softly kissing your head.

“ill be here for a long long time…this is my home after all” you smiled, making jey laugh too.

and it was in that moment that you truly realised how important those weird people were for you, and how important you were for them.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

In The Gloomy Depths [Chapter 6: Bloodstone]

Series summary: Five years ago, jewel mining tycoon Daemon Targaryen made a promise in order to win your hand in marriage. Now he has broken it and forced you into a voyage across the Atlantic, betraying you in increasingly horrifying ways and using your son as leverage to ensure your cooperation. You have no friends and no allies, except a destitute viola player you can’t seem to get away from…

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), parenthood, dolphins, death and peril, violence (including domestic violence), drinking, smoking, freezing temperatures, murder, if you don’t like Titanic you won’t like this fic!!! 😉

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @nightvyre @mrs-starkgaryen @gemini-mama @ecstaticactus @chattylurker, more in comments 🥰

💎 Only 1 chapter left!!! 💎

You must not have heard him correctly. Down by the bow, third-class passengers are still laughing as they kick pieces of ice back and forth. Children who have been shaken awake are giggling as they dash around in their worn, patched coats. On the Promenade Deck, tycoons and aristocrats are flagging down stewards to fetch them fresh drinks. There is no more humming of the ship’s engines, although no one else seems to have noticed; they have quit and will never work again. In a few hours, they will be resting on the bottom of the North Atlantic Ocean. It’s just barely April 15th, and half the passengers aboard won’t live to see the sunrise.

Kill Daemon??

You’ve never even hit anybody, not unless they struck you first. “I can’t kill someone.”

“Yes you can,” Aegon insists. His tone is urgent; there isn’t much time left. “And you won’t have to do it alone. Like I said, I’ll help you.”

A drop in your stomach, a chill down your spine, wide-eyed primal fear like a prey animal’s. “Even if I wanted to, Daemon can’t be killed.”

“He’s not a monster. He’s just a man. He has blood and organs just like we do. I promise you, if we cut him he’ll bleed.”

“He’ll hurt me,” you whimper. “He’ll know what I’m trying to do and he’ll break my neck or push me overboard. You don’t know him, he’s…he’s…he’s relentless, he’s cunning—”

“We can have what we want,” Aegon says, grabbing your face with his hands, fingertips callused from years of playing viola on streets, in pubs, in small rented rooms, on the decks of ships. “We can leave Titanic together. We can stay with my family for a while in New York, and then we’ll go back to Ireland so you can be with yours, and when my father dies we’ll spend half the year in England and the other half with your parents, and you’ll get to keep Draco, and Daemon will never touch you again. You’ll be free, Petra. And you deserve that. But no one is going to give it to you. You have to fight for it.”

Is it possible? Is it really? You imagine having breakfast with your parents in Lough Cutra Castle, the table full: you, Aegon, Draco, Fern, everyone smiling over plates of fried eggs, bacon, beans, mushrooms, tomatoes, and white pudding, cups of tea breathing steam into the cool morning air. Are you willing to fight for that? Are you willing to murder? At last you say: “Daemon isn’t the only problem.”

“Who else?” Aegon asks, demanding, impatient, though his hands are gentle. “Rhaenyra? And the old woman, right? Draco’s governess. Dagmar.”

“And Daemon’s bodyguard Edward Rushton, we call him Rush. He carries a pistol.”

“Okay.” Aegon nods, his eyes distant, his thoughts whirling like Titanic’s colossal propellers once did and never will again. You know he’s devising a plan. We only have an hour or two.

“Aegon…I have to get Draco into a lifeboat first.”

“Right.” He kisses you, a quick brush across your cheek like a dusting of snow, and you think: I can’t lose him. “Over a thousand passengers are going to die tonight. Let’s make sure four of them are people who deserve it.” Then he takes your hand and together you descend the steps to B-Deck.

~~~~~~~~~~

Scarlet fever is named for the distinctive rash that marks its victims, tiny red dots like blood blisters, so itchy they are soon scratched raw, raised bumps of braille in the shape of ominous omens, corporal constellations of bad stars. Dagmar was reminded of them the first time she ever saw bloodstone, a dark green crystal freckled with red, a pendant that Dameon sent her from across the world where he was opening a new mine in Australia.

Valentin was the first one to get sick. He was the youngest, the only boy, and while perhaps mothers are not supposed to have favorites Dagmar knew in her bones that she did. She held him—three years old, white-blonde hair, loud and wild—as he grew quiet and weak and hot with fever, and then he was gone. After Valentin was Juni, and then Karin, and then Mikele, and finally Gunnar, a lumberman who worked hard and never complained, not even when he was dying of kidney failure. Dagmar was once a woman with four children and a husband, but then she was no one, untethered to the earth, unmoored from everything that had been, and people left adrift in the ocean are likely to drown and spend eternity in the crushing, sunless abyss.

She wandered for a while, too old to fathom a new life, too young to simply wait to die herself, and of course suicide is a sin. To keep from starving she took jobs as a governess; the only thing Dagmar knew how to do was raise children, and she was good at it. With each new household she found herself searching for Valentin’s eyes and hair and spirit, for a child that could make her believe he was alive again. But none of the temperate, blue-blooded little boys or girls of England—where Dagmar had fled to escape the memories of her homeland—came close to filling his footsteps, his handprints, the hemorrhaging puncture wound he left in her chest.

Then one brutally cold winter, Dagmar was referred to the 8th Duke of Beaufort Baelon Targaryen, deep in mourning for his wife Alyssa who had recently perished in childbirth and at a loss to handle his two sons. Viserys, the heir, was already eight years old and too set in his ways to ever see Dagmar as a mother. But Daemon, only four—so much like Val, Dagmar had thought as she lifted him from the floor—was sad and needy and vicious, furious at the world for stealing his mother from him, and this was something Dagmar could understand. She became his new mother. He became her reason for living.

Daemon grew up, as all children do if they are not preserved forever in youth by untimely deaths, and Dagmar drifted away to other castles and mansions, other families, other attempts to silence the ghosts that rattled doors and windows as she slept. But no one could replace Daemon, and each time she received a letter or a gift from him—photographs from his mining expeditions, bracelets and hair combs, taxidermied foreign beasts—Dagmar would write him a thank you note and always include the same postscript: Daemon my dear, my brave rogue prince, it would be the greatest joy of my life to one day help look after your own child. And at last, when Draco was born he summoned her, and little Valentin was alive once again.

Now unlike Daemon, Draco did have a mother, but she was young and easily managed, inexperienced with babies, eager to please her husband. Daemon was so sage and charismatic and renowned, and she faded into his shadow until all her colors were gone and she was black and white like a photograph, never knowing what to do or say, staring inanely from doorways. This was just fine as far as Dagmar was concerned. She could pretend that Daemon’s wife was dead like poor Alyssa Targaryen.

Here on Titanic, the baffling shockwave yanked Draco out of his dreams. He’s crying, soft disoriented whines, and Dagmar soothes him and reads him The Little Mermaid and tells Fern—also awakened by the shudder and now pacing restlessly around the staterooms—to make some tea. Just as Draco is finally dozing off again, there is a loud knock at the front door. Dagmar brings Draco out into the sitting room, leading him by one of his tiny pawlike hands, to find Fern speaking to a steward who will not come inside any farther than the doorway, as if he is in a hurry. Fern, puzzled, is clutching the white lifebelts he has given her.

The steward is explaining: “I’m sure it’s just a precaution, ma’am—”

“It’s not a precaution,” Daemon’s wife says as she sweeps into the room, and for some reason there is a man with her, a blonde man in a black wool coat. Immediately, Dagmar’s blood turns to dark viscid poison. What is she doing? Why can’t she disappear? “Thank you,” Daemon’s wife tells the steward briskly. “I’m sure you have other rooms to visit. You should be on your way.”

The steward is evidently too busy to be offended. He retreats into the hallway and vanishes, and the strange blonde man shuts the door behind him. Dagmar scrutinizes the intruder, and he glares back at her with eyes like deep water, a murky melancholy blue. He’s the same man she saw on the Boat Deck, the one who reminded her so much of Viserys when he was young, that solemn, grieving boy she could not coax into loving her.

Why can’t Daemon’s wife just die? Why should she live when so many have been lost? Why would God judge her more worthy than Valentin, Juni, Karin, Mikele, Gunnar?

“What’s going on?” Fern asks Daemon’s wife, her voice reedy and timid.

Instead of an answer, there is a question in return: “Is anyone else here?”

“No,” Fern says, perplexed. “Why? What’s happened?”

Daemon’s wife holds out an empty hand, not to Fern but to Draco, who Dagmar is still grasping with bony fingers gnarled by arthritis. She says: “Draco, please come with me.”

“Why?” he asks, but he has already taken a step towards her, tiny bare feet. Dagmar does not surrender him. She will not, she cannot. He stops when his arm is fully extended and then looks back to his governess, his surrogate mother, his pale eyes full of doubt.

“We have to go somewhere,” Daemon’s wife says. She is still reaching for him. “Draco, please. I need you to listen to me, we don’t have much time.”

“No,” Dagmar sneers. “You don’t know how to take care of him. You never have.”

“Can I go?” Draco asks softly, and Dagmar pretends she has not heard him.

“Draco,” Daemon’s brainless young wife pleads. Her eyes flick up to Dagmar’s, and there is a moment of terrible understanding between them, as if they are mirror images: neither can try to force him without driving him into the embrace of the other. He is not a child who is easily tamed; he is a wolf, he is a dragon.

“Dagmar?” Draco says, peering up at her, and he’s asking for permission but in another minute he might be stomping his feet and screeching loud enough for the entire hallway to hear.

Dagmar glances at the lifebelts Fern is gripping tightly. What’s wrong with the ship? Is it sinking? But no, Dagmar cannot believe this. Titanic is unsinkable; everybody in the world knows that. She tells the boy: “She’ll take you away from me. She’ll steal you. But she won’t keep you safe and warm and happy like I would.”

“I’m your mother,” Daemon’s wife tells Draco, and now her voice is choked and there are tears glittering in her desperate eyes. The blonde man looks at her like he would carry the weight of her anguish if he could, every last pound. Who is he? Why is he here? “I know it might not feel that way sometimes, but I am. And I love you more than anything. I would never hurt you. I’m trying to protect you. Draco, I need you to come with me right now.”

And horribly, unthinkably, he yanks his little hand out of Dagmar’s. She claws for him and he spins around to face her. “No!” Draco shouts. “I decide! Me! Not you!” She is stunned into silence. She watches him careen across the sitting room, and Daemon’s wife scoops him up as if he belongs to her. She holds him for a while, a minute or more, before she sets him down on the floor and quickly helps Draco get his socks and shoes on. The boy does not complain. Then she lifts him again and—with what appears to be great effort—passes him to Fern, who while bewildered accepts this task, now carrying both the boy and the lifebelts. Daemon’s wife grabs all the coats hanging from the coat rack and piles them into Fern’s already full arms.

“Fern, take him upstairs to the Boat Deck. Get to a lifeboat, do not wait. They will be launching them soon if they haven’t started already.”

“Lifeboats?” Fern repeats, blinking, stymied.

“Yes,” Daemon’s wife says, and she and the maid share a long, silent, meaningful look. Draco gazes worriedly around the room, gnawing on his fingernails. The blonde man watches Dagmar, his expression severe, hateful.

Fern asks: “How much time until Titanic…?”

“An hour or two. You won’t be in the lifeboat for long, a ship called Carpathia is en route. But she’s not close enough.”

“Oh,” the maid exhales numbly. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…”

“Stay with Draco. Don’t leave him for a second. Get into a lifeboat, keep him warm, wait for Carpathia. I’ll follow you as soon as I can, but…there are some things I have to do first.”

“Like what, ma’am? What could be so important? You shouldn’t wait either.”

Instead of answering, she says, low like a dire warning: “If you happen to see them, do not speak to Daemon, Rhaenyra, or Rush. Don’t tell them what’s going on.”

“Yes ma’am,” Fern replies quietly, and nods like she suddenly understands. She takes Draco and hurries out of the room. Now Dagmar is alone with them: Daemon’s idiotic little girl of a wife, her inexplicable companion.

“This ship can’t sink,” Dagmar says; but is the floor tilting? She has only just noticed it.

“Of course it can,” Daemon’s wife counters. “Any ship can. I kept telling everyone how terrified I was of the voyage and you all treated me like I was insane. But I was right. I wasn’t a coward and I wasn’t stupid. And you can’t make me believe that I am anymore.”

Dagmar is about to reply—something cutting, something cruel—but then her steely Scandinavian eyes snag on the stranger and all at once it hits her like a man’s knuckles. She gasps, shocked, ferocious. Aegon. Viserys’ son. A villain, a traitor, an unworthy beneficiary of a grand inheritance. “I know who you are. How the hell did you get here?”

The man grins menacingly. “Fortune brought me a ticket. Best luck I’ve ever had.”

Dagmar screams, hoping he will hear her: “Daemon?!”

Aegon lunges, catches her around her long thin waist, wrestles her towards the door to the private promenade deck. Dagmar isn’t strong, but she is fierce; she scratches at his eyes and bites his hands when they try to smother her howls. They stumble together through the doorway and out onto the pine planks, knocking over lightweight wicker furniture. When her teeth close around Aegon’s fingers, Dagmar tastes blood like warm copper.

“A window!” Aegon is telling Daemon’s wife, but she’s already there after slamming the door to the sitting room shut, franticly turning the hand crank under the nearest window. The glass opens, and freezing night air pours in.

They’re trying to kill me, Dagmar realizes. They’re going to throw me overboard.

She jabs a bony elbow into Aegon’s throat, and he collapses to the deck, wheezing and helpless.

“Daemon!” Dagmar shrieks again. If he hears me, he’ll save me. My savior, my son. “Help!”

But it’s his wife who arrives instead. She collides with Dagmar, strikes her with two open palms, shoves her through the window. Dagmar’s hipbone cracks against the windowsill, a dry brittle snap, and then she tumbles out into the darkness.

Her last thought as she sees the stars—before she hits the frigid water and is knocked unconscious, then dragged under by the merciless weight of gravity—is that if they were red they would look like the dots on the skin of a child with scarlet fever, like the crimson flecks in a bloodstone.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh my God, I…we…” You stare down into the black waves that swallowed her so effortlessly, a flash of her long silver hair as it came undone and then nothing. “She’s gone. She’s really gone. We killed her. We’re murderers.”

In reply, Aegon coughs and gasps for air, still crawling around on the deck. You run to him and help him stand up.

“Thanks,” he croaks.

“Are you alright? What can I do?”

“I’ll be fine,” he rasps. “Just need a minute.”

You look down to see blood dripping from his fingers, thick beads of crimson like teardrop-shaped rubies, like oil paint. You ache for him, you feel his pain as if it is your own. “Your hands, Aegon, your hands…”

“I’m okay,” Aegon assures you, smiling. “The bitch chewed me up, but I’ll live.”

“I want to save your paintings,” you say. “We can’t let them go down with the ship. We’ll take them to the Boat Deck and give Fern your portfolio, make sure she and Draco get safely into a lifeboat, and then…then we’ll…” We’ll finish what must be done. We’ll free you and me and Draco.

Aegon is nodding as he rubs his throat, already bruising. “Any idea where Rush might be? The guy with the gun?”

Before you can answer, you both hear it: the sound of a door swinging open and heavy footsteps inside.

~~~~~~~~~~

He likes that Daemon calls him Rush. It’s better than Eddie, which is who he was when he was a boy being kicked and backhanded by his stepfather, and laughed at by the other kids at school for not having shoes to wear. Now he is someone brand new, and that boy Eddie could be a character in a book or a song, vaguely familiar but not real.

Daemon has never hit Rush, never even threatened him. He has never stolen his laborers’ promised wages or cornered maids to violate them, impregnate them, ruin their lives. He goes into the mines he opens and periodically travels the world to inspect, descending into clouds of dust and chipping gemstones from the walls with his own tools. He is kind to his son Draco. He is brave, he is brilliant, he knows how to have a drink with working men and captivate them with his stories. Rush would do anything for Daemon, who saved him from a life of obscure, powerless poverty. He would overlook any number of sins.

Rush gusts into the bedroom and sets about gathering up valuables and stuffing them into a suitcase: business correspondence, jewelry, sketches of designs, bundles of cash from the safe. Daemon will regret having to leave the taxidermied tiger head, but it’s simply too large and heavy to bring with them. Rush hasn’t located Daemon and Rhaenyra yet, but this isn’t so unusual; they are always sneaking around, evading being found purely for the sake of it, the deception, the thrill, ravaging each other in ever more inventive places. God knows where they were when Titanic struck the iceberg, or if they are aware of the impending sinking. Rush is not panicking yet; there’s still time, though perhaps not too much of it. With each passing minute, the ship lists further towards the starboard side. He is just about to get Daemon’s dagger from the writing desk when he hears the door open to the private promenade deck. Rush turns to see Lady Targaryen peeking in from the threshold, pale blue dress, white coat.

He has never felt any loyalty to her. She is a thoughtless, mollycoddled girl, raised in a castle with parents who loved her, and what would she know of what the world was like for everyone else? Daemon only roughed her up when she deserved it, when there was no other way to make her listen, and never too badly: no split bones, no scars. In Rush’s opinion, it was just enough to give her a taste of adversity.

He sighs. “Well, unless you plan on drowning or freezing to death tonight, you might as well follow me up to the Boat Deck. I’m just here to collect some things. They’re only putting women and children in the lifeboats now, but I’m sure first-class men won’t be far behind.”

She says nothing, only watches him from the doorway. The old witch Dagmar isn’t here; she must have already taken the boy to the highest level of the ship, where affluent passengers are waiting impatiently and still in denial that Titanic will soon disappear beneath the waves, asking stewards to fetch them drinks and cigars, calling out song requests to the string quartet.

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen Daemon or Rhaenyra, I assume?”

“I thought they were with you.”

“No,” Rush says, smirking. “I seem to have lost track of them. They’re not in either of their staterooms. But don’t fear. Daemon is more than capable of looking after himself. He’ll turn up soon enough.” Perhaps I missed them up on the Boat Deck; it was crowded, it was chaos. Perhaps Daemon is already helping Rhaenyra into a lifeboat, his large rough hands steadying hers as she steps inside. He would save her first.

“I’ll help you pack the valuables,” Lady Targaryen says suddenly, and starts towards Daemon’s writing desk.

“Just keep out of the way,” Rush snaps; and then he sees something and stops dead.

A painter’s easel has slid halfway out from beneath the bed as the floor tilts. This is a peculiar enough item, but the paper clipped to it is stranger. The image is of Lady Targaryen, that is certain, but she isn’t alone; there is a man with her, and while nothing is shown below the collarbones, the activity in which they are partaking is unmistakable.

If she’s found a lover, Daemon really will kill her this time.

Rush gapes at the painting for several long seconds and then looks up at Lady Targaryen. “What the fuck is that?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Your hand hovers on the handle of the desk drawer. You can’t open it and take the dagger while Rush is watching. You know that beneath his coat he wears a shoulder holster containing a Colt 1911. Even with a blade, you are outmatched.

Aegon appears in the doorway to the private deck with a wicker chair. He hurls it at Rush as hard as he can, and as Rush curses and fumbles for his pistol, you seize Daemon’s dagger from the drawer and plunge it into Rush’s back, once, twice, three times, many more. You can’t help but scream as you stab him, because it’s horrible beyond description: the resistance of gristle, the muffled popping of organs, kidneys or a liver or a spleen, and Rush is groaning and contorting, dark blood spilling across the slanting floor. Aegon struggles with him for the gun, ultimately wrenching it out of Rush’s weakening, shaking hands. He’s dying, and while you harbor no affection for him and never have, you remember the children your parents lost. Life is not something to take carelessly. It is already so fragile, and each death creates mourners like heads springing from a hydra.

Over a thousand people will die tonight. Is that really possible?

Rush has stopped moving. You are kneeling with the gold hilt of the dagger in your fist. The gemstones are splattered with blood: amethyst, tiger’s eye, black opal, emerald, ruby, bloodstone, sapphire.

“Here,” Aegon says, trying to give you the pistol.

You recoil. “I don’t know how to use that.”

He laughs, a half-hysterical little cackle. There is a smudge of Rush’s blood across his cheek like a stain of lipstick. “I don’t either!”

“Keep the gun. I trust you.” You turn to the easel that has slid out from beneath the ruffled bed skirt—once white, now speckled with red—and realize that stray blooddrops have been flung across the painting, dots of red turning tacky on the thin layer of oil paint. “I ruined it,” you say, soft and mournful.

“No,” Aegon disagrees, smiling. “You just added some more color.”

You use the bedsheets to wipe the worst of the blood off your hands and the dagger. Then you pull Aegon’s leather portfolio out from underneath the bed, open it, and store the new painting safely inside. In the meantime, Aegon rolls Rush’s body into the closet and entombs him in a heap of gowns you’ll never wear again. You stand, pick up the dagger, and catch a glimpse of yourself in the oval-shaped mirror…and instead of looking away, you stay there for a while. The woman in the glass—like silver, like moonlight—has frightened eyes but a glinting blade as well. There are massive maroon splotches on the belly of your ice-blue dress; you button your coat to conceal them. Through the open door to the private deck, frigid night air floods in like the seawater slowly filling Titanic.

What does water that cold feel like? Like knives, like fangs? A thousand people will soon find out.

“Ready?” Aegon asks. He puts the pistol in the pocket of his stolen black coat.

“Almost.” You find your handbag from yesterday, green to match the emerald-colored dress you wore before Aegon painted you, before he uncovered you like a rare gemstone. Within is Aegon’s small aluminum lighter; you tuck the dagger inside as well. You yank out a handkerchief and clean the blood from Aegon’s cheek with it, then peer down at his swollen, bloodied fingers and knuckles, ravaged by Dagmar’s bitemarks. They are trembling. “Are your hands—?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he whispers, pulling you in and kissing you, touching your face and your hair, his lips warm and soft in a haze of copper-scented glacial air. Would you do this again for him? For Draco, for yourself? Yes. I’d do it a hundred times. “We’re halfway done.”

Up on the Boat Deck, people are finally realizing that the ship is in mortal peril. First-class women, shimmering in their gowns and their jewels, are being hastily loaded into lifeboats along with their maids and their children. You spot Fern in one vessel; she is wearing two coats herself, and has bundled Draco in at least four from what you can tell. She holds him on her lap, and Draco is uncharacteristically hushed, compliant, fearful, gawping with startled blue eyes beneath disorderly white-blonde hair. They are seated beside Benjamin Guggenheim’s elegant French mistress, Léontine Aubart. Ben himself is striding back and forth on the deck with a number of companions, all in pristine black suits and puffing on pipes or cigars, assisting the weeping women as they flee to the lifeboats.

“We are prepared to go down as gentlemen!” Ben is trumpeting. Nearby, a string quartet is playing not an Irish song that you have known since childhood but the mellow, merry, please-don’t-panic melody of Samson and Delilah by Camille Saint-Saëns.

“I guess my viola is long gone, huh?” Aegon tells you. “Oh well. I hope the fish enjoy it.”

Ben Guggenheim continues: “Let it be known for all time that we stayed until the end to save the lives of the innocent, our beloved women and children, and that they survived because of us. Our bodies may fail, but our Christian good deeds will last eternally.”

“Hear hear!” other men are shouting drunkenly, raising glasses of brandy. Stewards and officers cast them brief, rather impatient glances. You wonder if any of the aforementioned gentlemen have considered the women and children of the third class, many of whom must have already predeceased them as they were drowned below deck, ignoble, invisible.

You think for the first time: Are they going to let Aegon into a lifeboat?

“Mam!” Draco shouts when he sees you, reaching out with both arms. You sprint to where he is still secured in Fern’s lap and lean over the side of the lifeboat, clasping his cold little hands and kissing the top of his head. Then you give Aegon’s portfolio to Fern.

“Take this with you. Try to make sure it doesn’t get wet.”

“Are you climbing in now, ma’am?” Fern asks hopefully. “There’s room for one more if we squeeze together.” Her eyes dart to Aegon. “Perhaps two.”

“I can’t,” you reply. “Not quite yet. But I’ll be back soon.”

“No, you have to come with us,” Draco says. The ship’s officers are signaling for the vessel to be lowered into the water. You spy other familiar faces aboard: young pregnant Madeleine Astor, the glamorous Countess of Rothes, the newly-wealthy Margaret Brown. Being a first-class passenger will save her life tonight.

“I’ll get in another boat. I promise.”

“No,” Draco says, and now he’s sobbing. He can’t understand the scale of it, but he knows something is terribly wrong. “Mam, we can’t leave without you. There’s room in the boat. Please get in. Please.” And you think: Maybe he does need me after all. Maybe he always did.

“You can go with them,” Aegon murmurs through your hair. “I’ll finish this. I’ll take care of Daemon and Rhaenyra.”

But he might need your help…and you cannot leave him here alone to freeze or drown or be murdered when Daemon discovers his lethal intentions. “You’re safe,” you tell Draco, one last touch of your palm to his hair, one last reassuring smile you hope isn’t a lie. “Stay with Fern. I’ll be in another lifeboat and I’ll see you again when this is over.”

“No, no, no!” Draco cries, still grasping futilely for you; but the lifeboat is lurching down towards the water and he is soon beyond your reach. High above, a flare explodes in the inky night sky, gleaming silver rain to tell any passing ships that Titanic is doomed. The North Atlantic is like black glass, smooth and reflective. Distant constellations are mirrored there, and you remember a passage from a book you gifted Daemon for your second anniversary when you still believed he might one day love you, an ancient tale from India about the beauty of the ocean: Its huge white waves looked like clouds; its gems looked like stars; its crystals looked like the moon; and its long bright serpents bearing gems in their hoods looked like comets, and thus the whole sea looked like the sky.

“Lady Targaryen,” Ben Guggenheim says as he marches over. He is swaying like he might be drunk. If he is, you can’t blame him. The truth is cold, and poison is warm: alcohol, smoke, a lover’s hands, a gush of blood. “Do you require any assistance, my darling?”

“No, thank you,” you reply swiftly before he can inquire further, and Aegon’s arm circles your waist as you hurry towards the entrance of the Grand Staircase together. You clutch your green handbag close to your chest. Where are Daemon and Rhaenyra? When will this be over?

From back by the lifeboats you can hear Ben Guggenheim shouting: “Tell my wife and daughters in New York that I love them! Tell them that I died a hero, and that I shall see them again when one day we are reunited in heaven…pray for my soul…tell the newspapers of our courage tonight…”

You and Aegon escape into the very top level of the Grand Staircase, the dome of glass and wrought iron above, the English oak wood steps winding below. As you enter, a frenzied crowd passes you on their way out to the Boat Deck: shipbuilder Thomas Andrews, J. Bruce Ismay, a number of others. And then, just as you and Aegon are beginning your descent, you see her on the landing below, frozen in place where she gapes up at you from beside the clock. Soon its ticking will fall silent forever. It will live on only in the memories of the survivors.

Rhaenyra is alone on the staircase. She is wearing a red and black gown and a white lifebelt; she is on her way to evacuate the sinking ship. You have intercepted her not a moment too soon. But she is not looking at you. Her Targaryen-blue eyes are fixed on Aegon, incredulous. It is the first time she has truly noticed him since she came aboard, and she remembers his face from photographs, from portraits, from awkward, frosty visits when they were both children.

“Aegon?” she says. “What are you doing here?”

In response, he removes the pistol from his coat pocket. Rhaenyra screams and bolts down the staircase, Aegon right behind her, flying like a phantom, like a shadow in his stolen black wool coat.

You try to follow, but they are faster. You slip on the steps, one of your blue shoes clattering away as you grip the banister to keep from falling. You reclaim your shoe where the staircase meets A-Deck; outside the illustrious Promenade Deck encircles the perimeter of the ship. You steady yourself against the bronze cherub statue as you slide your shoe back on, then resume the chase…but you don’t know where Aegon and Rhaenyra have gone.

Farther down the Grand Staircase? Out onto the Promenade Deck? Into the maze of hallways?

You try to listen for them, but the turmoil outside is growing louder. You hear a gunshot, but you cannot tell from which direction; the sound reverberates through the steel of the ship and melds with the chorus of failing machinery: groaning joints, snapping beams, steam vented from the massive funnels. You pause in the doorway that leads out to the Promenade Deck, black freezing air drawn into your heaving lungs.

Which way?

Now there are footsteps on the Grand Staircase coming up from B-Deck. You race back to the bronze cherub, but it is not Aegon or Rhaenyra who meets you there. It is Daemon, appearing on the landing like a fogbank or a thunderstorm, black suit, glinting deep-set eyes, towering over you; and once again you are a seventeen-year-old girl climbing into the marriage bed with him and hoping he’ll like you, once again you feel yourself to be entirely at his mercy, in terror of him, in awe of him.

Daemon grabs you by your coat and pushes you against the bronze cherub statue, its edges prodding at your spine. You yelp and he chuckles, and he asks, so casually he must know nothing about Aegon or his pursuit of Rhaenyra like a hound after a fox: “And what are your plans for this evening, dear? Dinner and dancing? Or perhaps a nice brisk swim? Good for one’s health, I hear.”

You can’t find your words. Your fingers that grasp your handbag are numb and useless. Daemon is inside you again, not your body this time but your mind, snipping threads and dissolving mirages. How did I ever believe I could kill him?

Slowly, Daemon’s grin dies. He releases you, and then for some reason—a trick?? a trap??—offers you his empty hand. “Come on,” he says, as if relenting. “I’ll help you get to a lifeboat.”

You stare up at him, and the shock must show on your face, the disbelief, the cautious wonder.

“I can’t take you away from Draco,” Daemon says, answering a question you don’t need to ask. He owns all of you; you have no secrets. “He’s so young. And I know what it’s like to lose a mother.”

Draco, you think with abrupt glass-sharp clarity. I’m doing this for him, and Aegon, and me.

You don’t take Daemon’s hand. Instead, you open your handbag and rip out the dagger. You slash at Daemon’s throat, and you almost cut him deep enough, a fraction of an inch from the carotid or the jugular or the windpipe. But Daemon pulls away at the last second and you only wound him, scarlet rivulets spilling down his neck and staining the white shirt beneath his suit jacket, melting rubies, hard soulless gemstones in the sockets of his eyes.

Daemon throws you down the staircase and you hit the oak steps hard, bruising, twisting, rolling, the thoughts jolted out of your skull. The dagger is knocked from your hand and is lost. You fumble blindly for it where you are sprawled on the next landing, halfway to B-Deck. Your vision is blurred by stars like those in the mirror image on the North Atlantic Ocean.

But I need the dagger, I need it, I need it, I can’t kill him without it.

And as you lift your head you see Daemon coming down to meet you, a gemcutter here to break you over and over again, until there is nothing left but glimmering dust, until you have never existed at all.

[peoplesgraves]

I really liked your Yandere thoughts about being a Model surrounded by Obsession. If it is not too much to ask, could you do one about being an Actor that is surrounded by obsession?

Some more yandere thots for y’all. This time you’re an actor who can’t escape obsession.<3

Other actors all want to do romantic scenes with you. If they ever had to do a sex scene with you they’d be so smug. Already thinking of ways to tease it in interviews and thinking of how many people will be shipping you together after it comes out. Do they watch edits and read fanfic of the two of you? It more likely then you’d think. Everyone wants to be your date on the red carpet or to be in a pr relationship that hopefully into more.

A personal assistant who has so much control over you. Who remembers every little detail, every meeting and every extra actor who looks at you just a little too long. They know exactly how you take your coffee and every single password you’ve ever had. Your beloved assistant will login to your phone and block anyone they don’t like and they’ll cancel shoot days if they think you need a break. Your assistant knows everything about you and they’ll use every little secret against you if they have too. They just want to take care of you. To make sure you know that there’s no way you’d survive without them.

Writers who write shows and movies specifically with you in mind. If you mention in a interview that you’d really like to do a horror movie next then within a few months you’ll be fielding more offers for horror movies then you could ever act in. The bench mark for a successful writer is no longer actually getting a show or movie made, it’s you agreeing to be in it.

Talk show hosts who make sure that every show has at least one segment about you. Maybe just a little update pulled from your social media or them gushing about how cute you looked doing press for your newest venture. They’d bump the creator of the world themselves if you requested to be on their show. They’d probably get so star struck though that you’d end up doing most of the hosting while they just give love sick stares your way.

Fans who sign onto any project as an extra or a grunt no matter how crappy the pay or conditions, Just for a chance to meet you. While extras are pretty harmless and will mostly just flock to you at any time they can and maybe break into your trailer to get a souvenir, it’s the grunts you really need to worry about. If they hear someone else on set talking badly about you then they’re not afraid to drop a light on their head.

A more seasoned actor who takes you under their wing. Steers you away from directors they know will take advantage of you or away from projects that will hurt your career. They’re just so helpful and protective that you can’t help but trust them. All they ask in return is for your time. When they hug you just a little too long you think it’s just because they care but honestly they have paparazzi hiding in the bushes. They’ve already been practicing what they’ll say when the pictures come out. That they were just trying to help your career by being seen with them, they didn’t realize you’d be upset. Of course you’ll forgive them because they’re just looking out for you right?

Award shows that always make sure you never leave empty handed. Who give you a special gift bag that makes all the other ones look like they came from the dollar store. You also never leave without an award. If you were to not make any new content for a year you can bet you’d still be invited to all the big shows and would win the ‘fan voted’ best actor/actress award, an award that definitely wasn’t created just for you.

You have a lot of influence when it comes to trends. If people notice you wearing a brand a lot then it’ll become super popular or if you endorse a product everyone will buy it. Companies and brands are always trying to get you to appear in their products or do ads for them because of how influential you are.

[zexapher]

Art Imitates Life

Had this idea in my back pocket for what must be a few months now, but after Akumu_Oukoku’s wonderful ‘Weiss is silly’ meme,  I thought I’d finally put this one together. That, and I wanted to make a little something to celebrate White Knight’s glorious victory in Ship Wars 8! The hordes of r/fnki well and truly descended upon the tournament, and all the better for White Knight!

I think there were a few folks on the regular sub that hadn’t quite realized just how popular White Knight had become within the community, but fnki itself has turned into something of a fortress for the ship, and the results of the tourney speak for themselves. White Knight really wound up dominating, becoming champion by an overwhelming margin, and with just Lancaster and Nuts & Dolts putting up strong competition in the previous rounds.

I’m impressed, and super stoked. It’s really something special seeing White Knight come out so strong after so many years treated as a pariah, having never before made it past the first round but now becoming the champion. The stars had aligned, really. The final round taking place on Weiss’ birthday, White Knight winning the championship being the perfect gift. Volume 9 had given the ship strong foundations to stand on. We can see that expressed in not only the various memes put out over time, but also in the A-Jaune-da alliance and numerous comments inundating the polls in order to promote the ship. White Knight shippers really had an incredibly strong messaging campaign this tournament, I might say no one else came close, and we always kept it positive. Everyone involved should feel proud.

Now, as for this meme, I chose these six characters (and Weiss) because I found it rather appropriate that they have all to some extent shipped White Knight in canon. Jaune, of course, is an obvious one. The story is littered with examples for him all the way through. Similarly, Weiss has been growing fonder of Jaune throughout the show, but Volume 9 saw her interest revealed in a very pronounced manner. Nora has the most tenuous claim here, having shared few moments with Weiss. However, Nora has a moment in Volume 5 where she teases Weiss about liking Jaune’s nickname, going on to tease the Ice Queen about her thawed heart.

Oscar, of course, gets his absolutely stoked look that he throws at Jaune when Weiss accepts Jaune’s invitation to the movies. Like, Oscar is just so happy for his big bro. Blake has a moment or two over the course of the show, notably her happy little glance between Jaune and Weiss at the Argus reunion, her smug look at the ~mature~ line, and how she perks up at Weiss’ giggle with Jaune about his restored youth. No real surprise there, since Blake is actually Jaune’s offscreen super-secret best friend. Yang herself throws a little dating advice Jaune’s way, and gets her ‘one day’ line, when our boy was down in the dumps following a rejection or two. She points out to Weiss that her harshness rejecting Jaune is the sort of thing that earned her the Ice Queen nickname. And, like Blake, Yang gets her own smug look following the ~mature~ line. Then there’s my most controversial addition to this list, Pyrrha. After all, she did walk Jaune through how to ask Weiss to the dance.

Yes, this was all an excuse for me to make a post about every little scrap from the show suggesting the characters ship White Knight. If anyone can think of any more, feel free to share. Maybe Cindere killing Jaune’s rival love interests, yet her attempts on Weiss’ life seem to have only helped Jaune and Weiss grow closer, hmmm. Well, I hope you all enjoy, I had good fun making it!

[yannaryartside]

SydCarmy vs Lucus

AMBITIONS AND PERSPECTIVES ON ART

This is a long one. Is about the series's themes on pursuing the arts, and the reasons that this ships work as symbolism for it.

When thinking about the reasons Marcus and Sydney were not going to work out (as far as we can see), I read a comment saying: "they are not on the same level" and the more I thought about it, I realized it not only meant they are not equal in culinary expertise, but they also have different ways to "live" their path in the culinary arts, almost opposite philosophies about it. And all of it is explained in their conversations with their (possible) romantic interest. 

WHAT IS AN ART PHILOSOPHY?

When you enter a path in the arts, any part, at some point, you will have to make decisions about how you are going to transit this path because there are very different ways to live a creative life, to make money out of it, and how feel fulfilled about it. Many people will enter their path with an idea of what success looks like, probably modeled after an artist that you admired, the desire for your art to be recognized as good, or as "the best," or even to disrupt what came before you. Shortly, art philosophy is how you value your path in the arts: What makes it good art? What point of your career is gonna bring you satisfaction? What guides you to it?

CARMY AND SIDNEY : "LET'S BE THE BEST AND REACH LOST OF PEOPLE"

They both want to be "the best," their definition of it equals stars, reviews, magazine interviews, and restaurant numbers. The creative impulse is only as valuable as is booming, and a chef is only as good as the size of their kitchen.

They both want exterior recognition and aspire to a big audience, and their satisfaction in their craft depends on that; what makes their unbearable jobs worth it somehow is if "people loved the food." They both have wounds and bonds formed around food and love making people happy with the food, but they have selected a perspective of what "the best" is and is an ambition they run almost blindly to. You can think the burger place on your block has the best food in the world. There are cooks utterly content with that, but the Michelling stars are telling otherwise.

Of course, this is the most tangible way to measure success in arts, the singer with the most loved songs, the book with the most readers. Quality is supposed to be evident by popularity, and they want it, decorated with the prize of succeding in such a competitive industry. They have tried to win the culinary rat race and have regrets about it.

Carmy (motivated by the rejection and abandonment from his brother) worked his ass to unhealthy levels to climb the culinary ladder, living to best everybody around him and run the best restaurant on the planet (which, if we believe his monologue, only took two fucking years). Sydney is presented to us as somebody with equal creative powers, intelligence, and instincts as Carmy, which is particularly obvious in their brainstorming sessions. But she hasn't been offered the same opportunities. Her previous bosses described her as "incredibly talented, impatient, and green." and one friend told her as "always trying to be the best." There is much to say about how her impatience may sabotage her ambitions. Still, it may be because she fears getting stuck, labeled, or never recognized by her talents.

These two have 3 things they prioritize in their art paths:

Creative expression+people love the food

Exterior recognition based on the industry standards (stars and big kitchens)

A rat race (sense of urgency) and your ability to play on it.

What makes your food the "best" is comparing it to everyone else and "winning" in a particular category. 

Not to mention, they are both deeply aware of the logistics and money sides of the restaurant life. It is not like they don't value inspiration, but their ambition is the defining force behind said inspiration. 

MARCUS AND LUCA: "LET'S BE INSPIRED AND EVOLVE"

Luca was introduced to us as someone who was "trying to keep up with Carmy, who was much better than him," the same way the audience feels Marcus is someone trying to impress and keep up with Syd. Luca knows the culinary world, has traveled, and has a privileged position making high-end desserts (possibly in a place with stars). He is the Carmy to Marcus's Sydney. 

Btw, there are some crazy parallels here too:

Marcus and Sydney have a wound/fear related to their mothers.

Luca and Carmy have strained relationships with their siblings (Luca has a sister he cannot find).

Both Carmy and Sydney got into cooking because of early childhood passion

Marcus and Luca got into it by "chance," discovering a passion that they never expected to love this much or be good at.

Mentor x student relationship.

Back to Marcus and Lucas's perspective of art. Notice how Carmy was trapped in a sense of urgency environment, with many people working for him, in NYC, a chaotic city; while Luca seems to work entirely by himself, in a pretty chill environment, in a rather peaceful city. Luca and Marcus thrive on this environment, which is about thought and delicacy, unlike the "efficient, fast run kitchen" Carmy and Sydney established.

Marcus had no philosophy about his craft because he was barely starting. Still, he adopts Luca's philosophy, which has 3 parts:

You may never be the best. Some artists have to let go of the idea of being "the best." There is a lot to say about this. But I want to express this using an example of the craft that I aspire to get into: writing. A friend once told me that some books are not meant to reach millions because they have a very specific audience, and what makes them good is how "memorable they are." More of it, some artists are never recognized in their times. The industry may not be made for them, or it may be just luck. Limiting the value of art by the industry standard is depriving the world of art that needs to be more exploratory, spontaneous, or just free. 

Since industry validation may not be available to you, instead of "being the best" against others, you can decide, "My only competition is me from yesterday." This perspective is super important because it gives you something to aspire to, ensures your creative growth, and allows reinvention.

It is not about skill but being open to the world, yourself, and other people. It is not about fancy techniques or recognition but about being inspired. 

To Luca and now Marcus, the creative process is as good as is honest, and a chef is as good as the effort he puts into it. The "self-exploration" and the recognition of the people surrounding him allowed Marcus to create his desserts: The Copenhagen sundae, for his ultimate school (and Luca), "Mum's" honey bun, Sidney's donut (the first one in believing in him and when he recognized his dreams), and "The Michael" the one that put him to make bread, and the tribute that needs to be made.

[moxiebustion]

Anakin Skywalker was a great Jedi.

He was not a good Jedi. Not even remotely.

Same thing you say? No, not really.

It's a bit like the difference between being rich and being wealthy. They sound like they're the same thing, involving the same quantifier (money) but they're not.

Rich is when you have enough. Your job pays well, you own a nice house, a couple of cars, you and your family can save a nest egg and go on some nice holidays and stuff. Your kids have their college tuition paid, you can afford to support an elderly or disabled family member relatively well. Life is good.

But you still have to work. Your partner still has to work. Your kids, while they will be very well educated and have all the advantages, will still need to get a job to survive on their own. You make your money by the sweat of your labours - maybe more than you need, but it's still down to the work of your hands.

Wealthy? Wealthy is where you own such an enormous portfolio of properties, have such a collection of heirloom artefacts, have so many bloated trust funds that you could spend every single one of your living days do nothing and you'd still have enough money to live on and then some. So would your children. And your grandchildren.

The surgeon making six figures a year is rich. They guy that has the entire wing of the hospital the surgeon works in named after him is wealthy.

Which brings us back to Great Jedi versus Good Jedi. They sound the same, with the same quantifier (Jedi), but they're not.

Anakin Skywalker was a Great Jedi in the sense that his deeds would get written about in history books. Helped win a planet's freedom at nine. Mastered a saber at nineteen, in half the time any of his peers took. Apprenticed to the Order's premier negotiator. Was knighted after one-on-one combat with a Sith. Pilot, Warrior, Hero Without Fear - he talked the talk, he walked the walk. He was everything people thought a Jedi should be and was therefore a Great Jedi in the eyes on minds of the galaxy.

He was a complete failure at being a Good Jedi.

The smallest, weakest and most fumble fingered member of the creche was a better Good Jedi than he could even dream of being. The Archivist who had never passed a single saber test ever given to her was a better Good Jedi than him and all his prowess. The elderly old farmer who had spent their entire lives up to their neck in dirt and hadn't been involved in a single galactically vital peace treaty was a better Good Jedi than Anakin Skywalker could even begin to comprehend.

They all wanted it.

They wanted it.

They wanted to be Jedi.

That's not to say they never wanted other things; marriage, or children, or life outside of service. People want things. Even Jedi want things.

But they never wanted anything in the galaxy more than they wanted to be a Jedi. Being a Jedi was the one thing they were willing to give up everything else for. They understood that it was a big commitment, that it would ask a lot of them, and they looked at that choice with their eyes wide open, fully trained and educated onto what it would entail and said yes, this is what I want to be.

(And that's not unhealthy! That's not "repression". Is a priest or a nun repressed? Is an asexual or aromantic repressed? Is anyone who ever got a dream job that took them away from home, kin and country repressed, wrongheaded, brainwashed? Or have they looked at their options, have they been fully informed and educated on what the life they choose will mean for them and everyone around them and decided yes, this lifestyle, which is not like everyone else's, which may even separate me irrevocable from the mainstream, suits me. I don't need or want the rest of it as much as this. This is what I want).

Anakin Skywalker wanted to be a Jedi.

But he didn't want to be a Jedi more than he wanted anything else.

He could swing a lightsaber, he could quote esoteric tenets and philosophies, he could pilot a ship, he could perform a variety of Force techniques, he could more than hold his own in a fight.

None of these make a person a Good Jedi.

You have to want it. You have to want to be a Jedi, above all other things. The talent might make you Great but it's the wanting, the choice, that makes you Good. You have to look at it, all of it, clear eyed, and decide you want it.

And he... didn't.

He just lied and said he did. At first to himself.

And then, knowingly and willfully, to everyone else.

Until he wasn't even a Great Jedi anymore. He wasn't a Jedi at all.

And he still didn't get anything else he wanted either.

[glassartpeasants]

Run Rabbit Run .12

Yandere!Eustass Kidd x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, depression, pregnancy, mentions of death, amputation?, non canonical events, reader got trauma and ptsd up the wazoo, characters are probably nerfed but whatever it's my story

A/N: it is done. IT IS OVER. I should make a key for who's talking: (Nami-regular orange) (Chopper-small orange) (Zoro-regular green) (Usopp-small green) (Sanji-regular blue) (Franky-small blue) (Kidd-regular red) (Luffy-small red)

~~~

You grit your teeth as you clutch the transponder snail until your knuckles turn pale. His words bring a burning rage to run through your veins as the familiar sizzling of your devil fruit powers ring along the Thousand Sunny.

“How dare you say you love me after all you’ve done!” You scream into the phone. “You wouldn’t know love if it hit you in the face! You're a sick fuck who took everything from me!” Tears of frustration pour down your face as the memories of the past three to four years run through your mind.

“I don’t even remember my own mother's face cause of you! I never even got to say goodbye!” Your knees grow weak as you clutch your heart, the throbbing pain becoming almost unbearable. Biting your lip, you try to hold back your hiccups.

Arms begin to wrap around you, a symbol that you aren’t alone. That familiar smell of rubber burns through your mind. The cracking of your electricity does little to sway your captain. Just then, you were stripped of the phone as Zoro stole it from your hands.

“Listen here, you bastard, the moment I even see you, I’ll cut you down. I’ll kill you before you even see her.” The venom in Zoro’s voice made a quivering smile appear on your lips. Through your tears even a spark of hope manages to shine through that maybe if Zoro and the others are willing to, they can help you, Tashigi.

Even though you can’t trust Eustass, you know you heard her voice. And knowing that, you can't let Eustass hurt her any more than he already has. She means too much to you and has been there for you all throughout your first and second trimester of pregnancy. You had to save her. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you didn’t.

You couldn’t hear what else Kidd said as Zoro slammed the transponder snail down, a vein popping on his forehead as he gripped his swords tightly. “Zoro?”

“We need to keep watch now. He’s coming.” Hearing Zoro’s words makes your heart drop. How long until he arrives? Days? Hours? Minutes? The thought kills you inside. What if you weren’t paying attention, and he managed to sneak up on you? Would he set fire to Sunny as he did with G-5’s ship?

Not to mention, his crew is composed of more people than the Straw Hats. While they're strong, what if? The fact there even is a chance makes you feel nausea. If he won, then he’d kill them. How he’s acted the past 6 months has shown he’s not afraid to take lives if it comes to you. 

“We need to have people on watch at all times.”

“Not to mention be prepared for anything if his actions are anything to judge by. I highly doubt the bastards gonna play fair.” Everyone seemed to nod in agreement at Sanji’s words. The feeling of Luffy’s arms uncoiling around you makes a cold breeze flow through you. The familiar sizzling of your devil fruit powers now gone.

“Thank you, Luffy.” With a sign, you wipe your cheeks of tears. “I needed that.”

“Don’t worry (Y/N), we won’t let him win.” Nami puts her hand on your shoulder. “You and the baby will be safe.”

“Yeah… me and the baby.” Nami’s words cause a sense of dread to fill you. Even if Kidd were to die, evidence of his existence would forever haunt you in the shape of an infant. Even if it only shared half his genetics, you know you’d see him every day in the child's eyes.

How were you supposed to be a mother if the baby was caused by the man who destroyed your entire world? Hatred for an innocent being who was brought into the world at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was easy to listen to the advice around you, yet the voice in the back of your mind lets you never forget whose child your carrying. 

A sigh escapes your lips as your head begins to pound. “Ah…I think I’m going to take a nap. My head is hurting.”

“Okay, get some sleep, okay? You’ve been through a lot today.”

“I’ll walk you there.” You nod at Robin's offer. The two of you make your way towards the girl’s bunk, the weight of the world seemingly on your shoulders.

“You won’t be alone to raise the baby (Y/N). We’re here to help.”

You let out a dry chuckle. “Am I really that transparent?”

Robin rubs your back as the two of you sit on your bunk. “It’s normal to feel the way you do, especially after all he’s done. It's normal for a person to be feeling the way you do.”

“I hate this. How am I supposed to get over and heal when I’d have the memory of him always with me? I’m a horrible person Robin, taking out my anger on someone who’s done no wrong.”

“(Y/N) you still have a few months till the baby arrives. No one expects you to be joyous. We know what’s happened, and what you feel is valid.”

“Will I ever get over this?” You ask in a whisper.

“You’ve been through hell and back. Some things may heal and some never well. It's simply the course of being human." Leaning your head on her shoulder, you wipe your tears with your hands and put them on your thighs.

“I can’t even remember what I looked like without my scars. I don’t even feel like me. I feel like a shell. An empty husk of what I used to be.” You admit with a shaky voice.

Robin carefully pets the top of your head. “I’m sorry. I wish I could reverse time to make everything better. But for what it’s worth, I think it shows your strength, your will to survive.” Sniffling, your eyes look down.

“Maybe. But my will to survive cost people their lives.” The news of Kidd’s crimes materializes in your mind like a bad memory. “People just living their lives only for it to get cut short simply cause I took a step on their island.”

“Kidd killed those people (Y/N). It was his choice to do it.” Robin continues to try and soothe you. “Don’t blame yourself for his actions.”

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you look at Robin. “How can I not? There are thousands of people who hate me and blame me for it all! How can I sleep at night knowing that?” Robin pulls you into a tight hug, the simple action making your heart calm its aching, if only for a moment. 

~~~

The night began to show its signs as the sun made its descent. The beautiful colors of the sunset had you sitting on the deck, leaning against one of Nami’s orange trees. The sweet smell almost reminded you of home—or the memory of it.

“Come on, love! We’re almost there!” Your fiance's voice echoed in your ear, and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Picking up the pace, you finally managed to climb up the hill. Out of breath, but you did it.

“Tada!” Looking around, you see a picnic set up under an orange tree, with a view over the entire island as the sun begins to set. 

“Wow…(....) it’s beautiful,” you say as you sit down on the blanket. Looking at the horizon, you can’t help but wonder what lies beyond your small island.

“It is, isn’t it?” The sound of rustling has you turning your head towards your boyfriend. Raising a brow, you watch him fumble with something.

“(....) you okay?”

Your fiance jumped before turning to face you. “Yep! Everythings fine!”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Yeah, I promise I’m fine! Why don’t we eat?” Letting out a soft chuckle, you simply nod and begin to unpack the food your fiance has brought.

As the two of you ate, warmth bloomed in your chest. If there was a heaven, you were in it. You have never felt so content in your life as you do right now. If only every day could be like this: sitting next to the one you love while watching the sunset.

“Um…(Y/N)?”

“Yeah (....)?” Turning your head, your hands fly to your mouth. Your heart beats against your ribs as tears begin to blur your vision. With teary eyes and overflowing love, you watch your fiance get down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?”

The beautiful and heartbreaking memory of the best day of your life flashes in your mind like a movie. Pay to watch, but the payment is heartache and tears. The knowledge that you’ll never be able to feel such happiness and love like that again. No amount of love the Straw Hats give will ever be enough to replace the love you lost that day.

As you watch the sunset and the waves move along the sea’s surface, a feeling of emptiness and loneliness hits you hard. The ache in your heart never stops, reminding you of the pain and damage you’ve caused people by simply being alive—the hell you’ve put people through. Not a second goes by when you don’t think about it. Every moment spent dwelling on what could have been seemingly dissolving what’s left of the woman you used to be.

What once was a lively spirit that grew up shielded by the horrors of the world is now tainted. Not an inch of what used to be remains. You don't recognize yourself when you look at yourself in the mirror. The scars that cover your body like a macabre mural forever remind you that no matter where you go or what you do, a part of Kidd will always be with you—always there to remind you of everything you’ve endured and lost.

The branding you bear on your chest will keep people aware of the Kidd pirates for years to come. Even if they perish tonight or in the next few years, they’ll always be remembered as long as you're alive.

As you feel the breeze brush through your hair, a slight calm rushes through you. It felt as if only for a minute, you were home, breathing in the south blue air. Listening to children laugh and play as they ran through the schoolyard. Couples walking hand in hand and looking at each other lovingly. But now, they were nothing more than memories. 

“(Y/N)? Are you here?”

“I’m over here, Chopper!” The sound of little footsteps coming towards you makes you wipe your watery eyes and sniffle before smiling. “Hey Chopper, how can I help you?”

“I just haven’t seen you since earlier today, and I got worried.”

“Aw.” You grab Chopper before pulling him into a tight hug. You're so sweet. But I’m okay. I’m simply right here watching the sunset.”

“How are you feeling with the baby and using the scar cream? Is it helping at all?” Chopper asks, looking up at you in concern.

“I’m doing fine, Chopper, I promise. And the scar cream helps dull the pain like you said it would. A true doctor sticking to his word.” You smiled at him, causing him to blush.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me!”

Letting out a giggle, you look out to the setting sun. “How about we go eat, huh? I’m sure Sanji has food prepared for all of us.”

“Okay!”

With a bit of Chopper's help, you managed to get up from the floor. Taking his hoof in your hand, you walk side by side, both of your shadows hitting the ship's walls. The delicious smell of Sanji’s cooking causes your tummy to rumble. Hopefully, the taste of his cooking will block out the gut-wrenching feeling of doom lingering in the air.

Laughter rang throughout the air despite the tension that surrounded everyone. The impending knowledge of Kidd’s arrival was suffocating. When it would happen was anyone's guess. Robin was on guard at the moment, and with the seas and skies dark, it was almost impossible to see anything outside. Let alone another ship. No moon to light the vast seas. Only stars that were far away for any significance.

“(Y/N), here is that shake you wanted!”

“Oh, thank you, Sanji! That’s so kind of you.” You smile as you take a sip. As you swallow the cold mixture, the sunny always violently, as a loud boom rings throughout the dining room.

“What was that?!” Usopp yelled. Everyone began to rush out of the room. As soon as you go to check, Luffy stops you.

“Stay here. We don’t know if its the Marines or-”

“(Y/N)! Where are you, princess?”

Your blood runs cold as the horrific sound of Eustass’s voice echoes across the Sunny. The insanity inside his voice has the nightmares you endured by his hand flash before your eyes. The pain, the screaming, the blood, and the dark rushing through you.

Running to the window, you see darkness. No sign of the Victoria Punk or Kidd. Running to the other side, you only see the stars. You're sure you heard him. No doubt in your mind you did.

The door busted open, revealing Robin’s panicked face. “They’re here!” Soon, sounds of metal clanking against each other rang across the deck. Peering over Robin's shoulder, you saw flashes of blades and the two figures of Zoro and Killer.

As soon as Luffy sees it, he dashes past Robin and out onto the deck. “Stay here! Robin! Do not let anyone near her!” Robin nodded as he closed the door.

Hearing the battle outside you, your heart goes into overdrive as you hear, through all the violence, the telltale sign of Kidd’s boots hitting the wood of the deck.

Your eyes trail down to the dining room door, where the shadows of feet block some of the light. The smell of sake and metal fills your nose—the same sake that you’ve only ever seen one man drink.

BAM

The door to the dining room busts open. Dust spills into the air, making you and Robin cough. Looking in the direction of the now-open doorway, you make eye contact with the amber eyes that haunt your dreams every night.

“Kidd…” You whispered as you covered your mouth. 

Jumping in front of you, Robin stood between you and Kidd. She had a determined look on her face as the sound of his footsteps drew near. “(Y/N) Stay behind me!”

You watched as Robin crossed her arms, getting ready to attack. It felt as if the whole world had ceased to exist at that moment. The only soul left was the man smirking in front of you.

“Nico Robin, eh? Heh, too easy.” Kidd spoke, making your palms turn sweaty as a feeling of dread ate away at you. “I’ve had a lot of time to study you, Straw Hats.” A grin of insanity spread across Kidd’s face.

“Stay back! Don’t you dare move another inch if you want to keep your life!” Robin warns as you see her famous words on the tip of her tongue.

“(Y/N).” Kidd cooed to you. “You wouldn’t want your friend to get hurt, right? So be a good girl and walk over to me.”

“She’ll go nowhere with you!

Kidd’s eye twitched at Robin’s interruption. “(Y/N), you know what happens to people who try and take you away from me. Or do we need to have a repeat?”

Flashes of the night of Heat’s death flash before your eyes as you feel your blood run ice cold. Looking down at his hands, you see the same knife he had used to take Heat’s life. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could think rationally, the trauma of watching Heat’s passing hit you full force.

Pushing past Robin and moving in front of her, your eyes starting to create tears. “Please, no! Don’t hurt her! I’ll come with you! Just please don’t hurt her!”

“(Y/N)!”

“Good girl. I won’t hurt her since you decided to listen.” Kidd smirked and took a step forth.

“Demonnio Fleur!” With wide eyes, you watch as two arms sprout out by Kidd’s head. Both grabbed a part of his head.

Yet just as a slip of hope appeared, you gasped in horror as Kidd’s metal hand grabbed one of Robin’s false wrists, holding it in a tight grip. A sickening crack was heard, and you hear Robin cry out in pain. The limbs holding Kidd’s head disappear as Robin holds her wrist in pain.

Your arm is grabbed, and you're pulled to Kidd’s chest. It wasn’t even seconds later that a cold grip wrapped around your neck. Moving your hand to your neck, you feel cold metal encircling your throat. The feeling of your energy being drained had your inner alarms going off. 

Sea stone.

“Easy. Now, I don’t have to worry about you using that pesky devil fruit power of yours.” Kidd begins to drag you away despite your trying to pry his grip off you and activate your devil fruit powers. But you knew that you were too late; your mind had blocked it out when it all was going down.

Robin once more lifts her arms to invoke her devil fruit powers. “Demoni—” Lifting up his metal arm, he rushes at Robin and throws her into the wall. The sound of her crashing into the wall makes your stomach drop.

“Robin!” You cry as you try to come to her aid, only to be pulled out of the dining room and onto the deck of the Sunny.

Everywhere you looked, there was violence. Zoro and Killer’s blades caused sparks everywhere. Usopp snipped people from above as Sanji fought Wire. Everyone else seemed like a blur as if your world was burning down around you.

“Great. Now let’s go.” With a tight grip, Kidd begins to drag you to the back of the Sunny. There, you saw the Victoria Punk in its horrible glory. As you got closer, the memory of Tashigi’s voice rang in your ears.

“You said Tashigi was still alive! Prove to me you're not lying, and I’ll stop putting up a fight!” Clawing at Kidd’s grip, you try pulling yourself free. But with the sea stone collar, it was a losing battle.

“You’ll see her when we get on the boat. Now stop fighting, and let’s go!” Kidd’s grip tightened, causing you to whimper from the pain. “The longer we're here, princess, the more of your friends get to meet Heat’s fate.”

“No! Leave them alone!”

“Oh, I’ll leave them alone, alright. Right after you back to where you belong.” His tugs got harsher as he practically dragged you to the Victoria Punk. “Down where only I can see. Where you and our baby will be safe and never leave me again.”

His words brought you back to the cold cell you gave away three years of your life, too. Where you’ve been used and abused, even almost killed. The tally marks on the walls and the blood spot that reminds you of your amnesia. The small window that only gave you a sliver of life. It’s existence made to never let you go a day without thinking about it.

“No! I can’t go back! Please! Anywhere but there!” Cries of fear left your throat as you hit and kicked Kidd to try and free yourself. You wouldn’t go back down, and you sure as hell wouldn’t have your child growing up in the dark.

“Stop fighting, damnit!” Kidd’s grip went to your hair, making you yelp in pain. “Now let's go!”

Tears stream down your face as the burning in your scalp grew harsher. With a shaky voice, but at the top of your lungs, you scream. “Luffy!”

“Shut up (Y/N)! Don’t-”

CRASH

The grip on your hair disappeared as you watched Kidd go flying into some barrels. A familiar smell of rubber hit your nose as you felt an elastic arm wrapping around you. Your heart finally managed to calm only slightly as a familiar straw hat was in your peripheral vision.

“Luffy?” You spoke softly as you felt a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you…”

A growl left Kidd’s lips as he stood up, and broken splinters of wood fell off him. His eyes met in Luffy’s direction, animalistic rage flashing in them. Cracking his knuckles, you watched him grit his teeth. “Straw hat.”

“Eustass Kidd.”

The tension was thick and heavy. Both boys emitted hatred for the other, one wanting to save while the other wanted to take.

“Bastard…you stole her from me. You took what's mine. You stole her from me.” 

“We saved her from you. There was nothing to steal.” The look in Luffy’s eyes was something you’ve never seen before—hatred and rage that burned brighter than the sun. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll call off your crew.”

“Not until every Straw Hat falls dead.” Your heart drops as you know Kidd planned to follow through with his threat. “I already took care of that annoying Nico Robin.”

“Liar! Robin wouldn’t lose to the likes of you!” Luffy’s words made your eyes water. While you didn’t know if Robin was alive or not, the fact he even threw her against the wall so violently was enough to flame the fire of your fears.

“(Y/N) stay behind me, go try to hide-”

“Don’t you dare move (Y/N). You don’t want Tashigi to die now, do you?” Kidd’s words made your blood freeze and body still. Even if you heard Tashigi’s voice earlier that day, who’s to say he didn’t kill her after the call? But what if he didn’t? What if she was still alive on the Victoria Punk?

“After I kill this bastard, we’ll save her too (Y/N)! Don’t let his tricks fool you!”

The arguments between Luffy and Kidd felt like hammers against your head. Everything was going on all at once, and it felt as if your brain was going to explode.

It seemed as if Luffy’s words finally broke Kidd because, without a word, Kidd makes his way towards Luffy. His metal arm winded back. A murderous look in his eyes.

“Luffy!” You warn, making him turn around, thankfully in time for him to move out of the way of the punch. He moves you back before pushing his straw hat more onto his head.

And just like that, he lunged into the fight.

Each fighter fighting for their own version of justice. A hero and villain’s final fight. Only one planning to leave alive. 

The crashing sounds of bodies being thrown into objects and the crunching of metal were deafening. Tunnel vision overclaimed everyone in the vicinity. All having a goal that they needed to reach. All the way they came and all they’ve fought for proving itself tonight.

Their footsteps on the wooden deck sounded like thunder, each one loud enough to stop your heart. One step meant one step closer to victory—a victory that’s been fought for almost three years.

Words were spoken on both sides, but neither you could understand. The only thing you could understand was the beating of your own heart in your ears. None of the screams, clashing blades, or footsteps broke out of your trance.

“(Y/N)!” A cold metal arm wraps around you as the smell of cola hits your nose.

Turning your head up, you see Franky grabbing you, a little roughed up but otherwise fine. “Franky?!”

“Don’t worry (Y/N); Luffy’s got this! But for now, we gotta get you somewhere safe.” As you were beginning to move, Franky suddenly stopped.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Kidd’s voice boomed. Once again, the crinkling and crunching of metal could be heard, but so could grunts of pain.

As you look at Franky, you look on in horror as his arms seem to be shrinking in on themselves and shaking violently. Right then and there, you are reminded exactly how devastating Kidd’s devil fruit powers really were.

A snap could be heard echoing on the deck as a part of Franky’s arm flew across the battlefield only to hit Luffy and knock him off his feet momentarily. You scream on in horror as you get an up-close seat to your friend's unwilling amputation.

“Franky! Luffy!” You cried before you fell to the ground. Hitting the wooden deck beneath you. Despite being pregnant, you try your best to sit up only to go speechless as the sound of more crunching metal once again hits your ears. You stare at Franky with a queasy stomach and terror.

Different metal parts of Franky’s body were crunching and shrinking up on itself. That was what you could see. What about the metal on the inside you couldn’t?

Franky falls to his knees, clutching his stomach and chest. Without wasting a second, you move to his aid. Looking desperately for a way to help him.

“Franky! Oh my god! Don’t worry, you’ll be okay!” You stammer as you scan his body, trying to find some miracle button to stop his pain. But there was none.

Turning to Kidd, you see him continue fighting off Luffy, but you can see one of his hands twitching in Franky’s direction. You watch as Kidd balls his hands up in a fist in a quick motion. The second he does, Franky let out a scream of pain. 

“No! Kidd stop, please! You're hurting him!" You wail while panic surges through your body as Franky writhes in pain. “Stop it!”

“You want to save your pathetic metal friend?”

“Yes! Please just stop hurting him!”

“Get on the Victoria Punk.” Kidd’s voice left no room for negotiation. He looked at you with eyes that if you dared to defy it, it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Don’t listen to him (Y/N)!” Luffy exclaimed as he continued to punch and kick at Kidd’s defenses and attacks.

With the sea stone collar around your neck and the baby in your tummy, there was no way for you to fight. Not when you were so weak and vulnerable.

Biting your lip, you look down at the deck beneath you, globs of tears hitting the floor like a thud. “You promise? What if I come willingly, you’ll call of the rest of the Kidd pirates and stop hurting Franky?”

“No…(Y/N) don’t…”

“Don’t! I can beat him, I promise! I can save you!” A barrel flew into Luffy, cutting off his words and crashing into a wall. The sight made you cover your mouth.

“I promise, princess. I’ll call off my crew and leave the cyborg alone. As long as you take my hand and come to me, then we can board the Victoria Punk where you belong.” Out stretching his hand, Kidd gave you a grin that knew he had you right where he wanted you.

Your body and heart tried desperately to stay, but the fear and guilt of everything weighed down on you. The lives lost from his rampage. G-5’s death, Franky’s suffering, and the promise of Tashigi's life being spared if you went with him. But if you didn’t, then Franky and Tashigi would die. More people you cared about dead from his obsession.

With a trembling body and a heavy heart filled with grief, you force your feet to move. Your tears hit the deck beneath you as you got closer and closer. The moment you slowly feel the cold metal of his hand, a shiver runs down your spine.

His hand gripped your tightly as the smile of insanity returned to his lips.

“Good choice, princess.” Pulling you close, you hear him rally back his crew. You watch each pirate run back, wounds and blood on some as they made their way aboard their ship. Killer coming in last behind everyone else. 

“We’ve got our treasure. Now time to go.” With a smirk, Kidd began to lead you to the ship.

“Hey! You're not going anywhere with her!” Footsteps echo along the wooden deck, making you turn your head to see the rest of the Straw Hats rushing towards you.

“No! Stop!” You plead as you try to stop them. “Don’t…don’t come any closer.”

“(Y/N) what are you-”

“I’m sorry.” Tears fall from your face, drenching your shirt in teardrops. “Please forgive me for the trouble I’ve caused.”

Kidd began to lead you away towards the Victoria Punk. “Thank you for doing your best.” You whisper with a trembling lip. A forced smile spreading across your lips as you began to walk up the ramp.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to do this! We can save you!” Looking at them, you gently shake your head. With a quivering smile and blurry vision, you take a final stop aboard the Victoria Punk.

“It’s better this way. No one else will be hurt.”

Tears filled the Straw Hats' eyes as they saw you board the ship and the state of Franky. The overwhelming scene made their world spin as they tried to find the words to say.

As Kidd lifted up the Victoria Punk anchor, you spoke once more—the last thing you could ever say to them.

“Thank you for everything, but just some people can’t be saved.”

~~~

Tags: @rebeccawinters @iggy5055 @dairygrrl @childconnoisseur @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @menifire1092 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @carpinchootaku @misxoxramen @pinkfoxmusic @mizzhellsingsstuff

[heretherebedork]

Weird 2023 QL Awards (Late to the Party edition)

Couple That Made Me Feel Most Vindicated 2023

I was suddenly thinking of Weird Awards for 2023 and I'm just gonna be clear that the first one I thought of was 'Couple That Made Me Feel Most Vindicated' and that was Tanthai and Tee from Laws of Attraction where I saw multiple people comparing like them at the start of the show to supporting rapist characters and claiming that made everyone who shipped them bad people only for the ending to show us that they were completely innocent and trapped by an abusive and controlling father and it was the sweetest, sweetest moment because that post about 'supporting someone who hit a child with his car' turned out to be not only completely wrong but was never followed up to my knowledge by any kind of acknowledgement that they were wrong.

Most Punishing Show That I Finished 2023

The Promise. Nothing else could possibly win this award. And, no, it doesn't get a picture or a gif. Fuck this show. Second place in this category goes to A Boss and A Babe.

Not A BL But Still Loved It 2023

Midnight Museum took my breath away and made me so happy it should probably be illegal and, no, it wasn't canonically a BL but I want you to look at this gifs and tell me it wasn't one of the queerest thing to air despite itself. Midnight Museum 2 when?

I Loved It Way More Than The More Popular Shows Airing At The Time 2023

My Dear Gangster Oppa was a blessing of a show that should have gotten so much more love and, no, I don't care about the pacing it was so damn cute and so good and I loved it the whole time. What a perfect show and yes I still think it's better than Playboyy will ever be.

I Fucking Lost My Mind 2023

La Pluie's soulmate narrative and more specifically these two boys destroyed me, rebuilt me and drove me to write more meta than any other show that finished airing last year because this show was so good it probably should have been illegal and these two were just so perfect. The narrative of learning to like someone and slowly falling in love only to start questioning everything because of a soulmate connection and then realizing that your confusion hurt someone you love and realizing you genuinely have to make up for it and make choices and not just let fate decide!? My entire heart. I love them so much and I very much doubt many shows will live up to this because they truly did it all.

Japan Gets an Award 2023

Because dear lord did a lot of their shows make me go bonkers. This not a specific award, this is just for the entire country blowing my mind repeatedly.

I Actually Liked Both The Main And The Side Couple 2023

I mean, it had to be. Kiseki got me into both couples and, hell, even into the barely there couple of the boss and his man and I loved every single one of them to an amount unheard of. Every single boy was amazing, they all got good endings, everyone was together and we got love all around. My Dear Gangster Oppa could have been here if the secondary couple had gotten a real ending but the show didn't give me a kiss, damnit!

I will open this up, if you have any specific really weird awards you think I could give, feel free to send me an ask and I'll... award it?

Anyway, 2023 has been a wild, wild year in BL and I'm glad to have spent it here with y'all. Nowhere else I'd rather be.

[lightwise]

TBB S3 E4 Recap and Reaction

- Poor Crosshair keeps getting stuck on cold planets.

- Batcher banging on the chair ready to get out 🤣🤣

- These shuttles are really interesting to me. It’s rare to see a ship that size that can be piloted by two different people.

- Baby girl, I totally understand your logic in wanting to pull the data logs to see where Tantiss actually is, but given how tactful we know Hemlock has been so far in keeping his location hidden, most likely it wouldn’t pull up anything.

- What a dreary spaceport. Feels very Andor and very like Norwegian Star Wars.

- The level of snark that Omega is giving back to Crosshair is cracking me up. We don’t see her showing this level of talking back or being sarcastic with any of the other Batchers, which proves my theory that Crosshair’s constant level of highly annoyed at everything around him brings out the sarcasm in everyone else he encounters.

- Love that his knowledge as a former imperial is coming to play to help them.

- Also love that Omega was the one to recognize that they need different clothes (and the obvious pan of the camera on the clothes hanging on the line in the first shot of the spaceport to accentuate that fact).

- Quilted clothes in Star Wars is my fave (yes more Andor parallels).

- The uplilt and little scoff that Omega gives and the look she gives Batcher after Crosshair snarls about bringing “the hound” along is PRECIOUS

- Also Cross and Omega cross their arms the same way. Okay okay I’ll never be over their dynamic here.

- Crosshair’s trucker hat/scuba apparatus is hilarious. He doesn’t look too bad though. Surely he’s at least warmer now.

- The credits negotiation omg. I love how Cross is just waiting for this to play out before he makes a move.

- YES omg are my baby girls strategy skills FINALLY coming back into play??

- Oh no no no no no this kid is going to rat them out isn’t he. You guys need to be more mindful of your surroundings!! Ahhh (okay I’m glad this didn’t happen).

- Honestly at this point Crosshair would be me as well. Just lots of very annoyed sighing.

- I love that Crosshair is getting to see all the things about Omega that the other boys know already, but he hasn’t had a chance to witness yet. We know she can wipe the floor with most people on strategy games/gambling.

- Yep nope this captain is not good news. Don’t get distracted by ranting about Imperial bribery, don’t do it, don’t….*sigh* I hate the Empire so much.

- Oh no this is so bad! I swear WHY is every imperial such a slimy self aggrandizing POS.

- Aww Crossy hunched down at almost table level ready to tear the room apart if anyone touches his baby sister. Adorable murder kitten. 😸

- Also Crosshair when all of this is over: where the HELL did you learn to gamble like that!?! Omega: 🤷🏻‍♀️😇😁

- Also also what game are they playing? Those cards are beautiful.

- Oh no they’ve found the shuttle already. Dear god this episode is so stressful!!

- CROSS!DAD IS OFFICIALLY CANON lmao

- Okay I was hoping Omega would let him win bc this isn’t going to go over well

- Whoa I didn’t actually expect him to concede. Maybe he’s not quite as slimy as I thought. Doesn’t matter though, the shuttle will give them away regardless.

- Of course. There it is. Let all the seedy businesses thrive as long as you get your fine out of it. Ugh. This is paralleling a lot of imperial activities in Rebel Rising and the Ahsoka novel as well.

- I also love how Omega uses touch with Crosshair to calm him down and communicate with him.

- Whoa I did not expect Omega to throw the credits and basically give Crosshair the choice of abandoning her or not. Nor for him to actually have to think about it for a moment.

- “My skills are being wasted” the boy does not like feeling helpless. I understand.

- This is going to give Cross some understanding of what Hunter has been going through the last few years. Especially if he ends up losing her.

- “Don’t push it” and the extra head shake after lmao.

- Geez this man is just lining his pockets every which way isn’t he. Despicable.

- “Alright, let’s try things your way” “Finally” I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

- Animal stampede!

- Oh gosh is Cross going to get left behind??

- Aw he finally called her Batcher.

- We are clearly seeing how much Omega has actually been tempered by the rest of the Batchers being around her until now. The unfiltered combined powers of Omega and Crosshair at their most unhinged is maybe more than the galaxy is ready for 🤣🤣

- Also a very Andor reference with the captain being stampeded almost to death and having his gun kicked away from him in the melee

- NO WAY WE FINALLY GET AN IMPERIAL GETTING THEIR DUE BY CREATURE DEATH once again *cough cough* not a kids show

- Awwww Batcher licking Crosshair’s face. He’s so done for.

- They got away. Wow. I actually wasn’t expecting that. And with most of the money too.

- Okay. Smart girl. She did not pick Pabu.

- What an ending. Wow. So. Similar to Mando season 3 (which is also scaring me) — what the heck is the rest of this season going to be about?

- This reunion is everything. 🥹🥹🥹 the hugs. The running. The tears. The worry. The anger. The hesitation. The fear. The literal and metaphorical distance between their ships that someone will have to cross. They better not fast forward a millisecond when the next episode picks up I swear.

[themculibrary]

Steve/Tony - Fake Relationship AU’s Masterlist 2

part one

Babydoll, Cover Me (ao3) - Reioka T, 1k

Summary: Steve and Tony, two of the most popular omega lingerie models, are pretending to date to keep alphas off of Tony's back. It's depressingly necessary.

cute quaterbacks (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor T, 1k

Summary: Steve and Bucky grew up as childhood best friends and are now roommates in college. Bucky dares Steve to bring a date to one of his upcoming football games after Steve suggests he could date anyone he wanted to. Enter Tony Stark.

diastolic pressure (in between heartbeats) (ao3) - firebrands M, 8k

Summary: For flame, who gave the prompt "Steve and Tony have been fake dating for a while, but everyone else thinks they're *really* in love. When a mission goes terribly and Tony is presumed dead, Steve realizes he's in love with Tony and Dramatic Shenanigans Ensue."

Not Unless I Say So (ao3) - KandiSheek E, 6k

Summary: Steve has never been booked by a client as rich or as handsome as Tony Stark, especially not to pose as a boyfriend instead of an escort. So his expectations for the evening are high.

He doesn't expect Tony to surpass every one of them.

Prom Dance (ao3) - euchan N/R, 5k

Summary: The prom dance is coming and Tony wants more than anything to win the Queen and King competition. He has two problems: he is inconveniently single for the prom and he is sure Mr perfect Steve Rogers wants to win too. He was afraid of starting other feud between them when Steve come with a creative solution.

Take Another Little Piece of My Heart Now, Baby (ao3) - blue_jack M, 27k

Summary: “I think we should get married,” Tony announced as he let himself into Steve’s apartment, plopping next to him on the couch.

the reason you ruminate the shadowy past (ao3) - Mizzy T, 20k

Summary: So, Captain America effectively manages to cockblock Tony for a year.

It's not Steve's fault. Well, actually, it is. But he was just proving a point - that if a superhero is gay, how can it be wrong? Steve just picked the wrong superhero to make the point with. Now America will think they're dating - and Tony's not going to be the guy to break Captain America's heart.

There's only one way out. To save face, Steve and Tony have to become fake boyfriends. Steve thinks the "boyfriends" bit will be the hardest to act... but maybe it's the "fake" part that will be the hardest act of all...

Think And Wish And Hope And Pray (ao3) - Loran_Arameri T, 3k

Summary: Pretending to be engaged and on vacation as a cover for a mission to retrieve stolen SHIELD weapons? Tony thinks it's a great idea. Steve doubts it.

In the end, some parts of the mission are more successful than others. Basically the title. Tony pretends he's dating Steve until...well, you know.

Triple Date (ao3) - upquark T, 3k

Summary: Tony has a cunning plan to get a date with Steve. Darcy's in it for the food.

try for the universe (ao3) - DobbyRocksSocks T, 3k

Summary: Waking up in Vegas with a ring that you didn’t have before drinking copious amounts of alcohol should only happen in the movies. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—for Steve and Tony, they’re idiots and they have to deal with the consequences.

Undateable (ao3) - RiotFalling T, 2k

Summary: Steve makes the grave mistake of saying nice things about Tony. In public. Now he has to pay the price.

Steve may not actually see it like that, but Tony definitely does.

Wait & Sea (ao3) - Lenalena E, 53k

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

We're Going Off-Script (ao3) - ishipallthings T, 5k

Summary: “Or, maybe you just need practice?” Steve blinks at Tony’s question, confused. Maybe Tony needs more sleep than he thought. He’ll have to check with JARVIS.

“Practice - at dating?”

(Steve needs help in the dating department. Tony is happy to help out, because he’s a very good friend. That’s definitely the only reason.)

[inastarlesssky]

In Defense of Dramione - an essay

Okay, time for another Ted talk/ soapbox/ pointless rambling...Putting it under the cut because I have opinions.

In Defense of Dramione - an essay

First of all, I want to say I ship Dramione. Which is a recent thing, specifically about half a year ago. I didn't always because well it never occurred to me that you could. Of course, that's how ships are. We ship some ships bc they're canon, okay, fine. But we ship a whole lot others that aren't because you name whatever reason (they've got chemistry, they WORK, they're better than the canonically approved pairings whatever the hell else, idk). My point is, it had never crossed my mind that I myself would actually like the idea of Draco and Hermione. Bc naturally, you look at them and you think, "He did insult her when they were children. He was an asshat, etc etc." But...BUT.

You know that trope Enemies to Lovers? Ever heard of redemption arcs? Yeah, those are things. Of course, I don't speak on behalf of everyone in the fandom because we all have our reasons for why. But I ship them because there is potential in Draco's character for growth, for repentance, for redemption. I believe that he's capable, when he's an adult of realizing that he fucked up and that the beliefs he was spoonfed as a child are not the law of the land. I've read more fics than I can count that describe this character arc for him and they do it masterfully. Honestly, I think he's a pretty complex character and I believe that we see a sliver of that in the last few movies. Like look, in 6th year, Harry hit him with Sectumsempra and nearly killed him. But when the Golden Trio were at the Manor and it was on Draco's shoulders to identify Harry and basically seal their doom, did he do it? Did he rat them out? Nope.

Maybe this wasn't exactly Draco "forgiving" Harry, admittedly. But Draco saw that Harry was their only hope for destroying Voldemort or for having some sliver of a winning chance, of a possibility of surviving the mess Voldemort was orchestrating. He obviously deemed it important enough to dare to lie, especially knowing that Bellatrix would have summoned the Dark Lord himself in the next few moments. If Draco really didn't care about the outcome of everything, he wouldn't have done that. If anything, we see that he cares at least about the safety of his family because that could have also been the motive. But that gets me thinking, couldn't he also have confirmed Harry's identity? Voldy would have arrived, perhaps praised Draco and spared the Malfoys to die another die. So really, Draco might have gotten more out of it if he HAD confirmed Harry's identity. Hmm food for thought.

Second point, I'm not going to judge anyone in the fandom because of reasons stated above, but I will go so far as to say, please, if you don't ship Dramione, that's okay. Everyone has their own cup of tea, but please, do NOT claim that all of us (that every single one of us who happen to support this ship) are and I quote "are just a bunch of horny teenagers desperate for some pretty boy and pretty girl sex". That isn't fair and it frankly isn't true, so please don't. I know many wonderful people who have crafted amazing stories and shown great talent through their writing to express the complexities I've just spoken about.

I'll end by saying that we all have our ships, and that's okay. There's no real right or wrong inasfaras who you ship with whom. But it's a basic gesture of respect, I think, to let others love the pairings that they love. Spreading hatred, ill-will or just unkindness toward those of us who enjoy a particular ship, that's not cool and that's what brings us down in what should be something we all enjoy and go to find joy and share that joy with others.

Okay, it seems I really defended Draco more than Hermione here but I will die on this hill and defend my dorks. Fight me on it (joking here but really though. XD) Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

[somethingsomethingdrawing]

omg lore drop

Ssooo

Bout abunch if centuries ago, before Captain Jasper Cookie became a captain he was just a wee lad following around his father. Course he mostly swabbed the deck n' hosted the sail (Though he was quite frail at the time so it was quite difficult and someone else had to help him). Throughout the time being out at sea he's met quite a few cookies ofcourse, he eventually meets this odd octopus (Cough Cough LARIMAR COUGH) who offered to give him a prize "This little thing will be worth your while young sailor! All you gotta do is win my simple game!" Course it was a riddle game, though not too smart, Jasper Cookie managed to guess the right answer! "Well well well, looks like someone's finally won my game for once, that's a first.. Oh well! As promised, ya get your prize, now scram and enjoy the rest of your life" She said as she handed him the locket before slithering back to the black of the ocean. Course, Jasper wears the locket thinking nothing of it.

He returns to Abalone's ship and does his regular duty of swabbing the deck. And insert the mermaid's tale event happening, Abalone's ship is now SINKING thanks to black pearl (as she should) Jasper is still on the ship, hanging on whatever he can to not get soggy. Abalone is yelling for his son to help him (cuz why not) Of course it's his dad, Jasper wants to help him but something pulls him back, telling him to climb to the highest point of the sinking ship, he listens to whatever is filling his head and leaves his father to die. He gets to the highest point the ship of the ship and jumps, getting away from Black Pearl's raging vortex that swallows the ship (I can't remember if it was a vortex or not). Jasper swims away, looking back at the wails from the sinking ship. He feels guilty for leaving his father to die, but he kept swimming to shore.

After reaching shore, he plops onto the sand and processes the near death experience he went through. And after a long hard thought, he decided from that day forth he'd go on more dangerous adventures and eventually became a captain. During the adventures he found many a treasures, met new cookies and gained their trust, who which became part of his crew. Ofcourse over time he went on a CERTAIN journey with his crew, visiting the duskloom sea. Foolish sailors! People thought, watching as his ship and crew went sailing towards that deadly ocean. Eventually days go by, no sight of their return. Days turn into weeks, still no sign of ship. Weeks turn into months, months into a year. After twenty years of that ship going missing into the duskloom sea, everyone thought that the ship had sank and everyone abroad became soggy and succumb to their fate.

But- What in the world!? What's that blinding light coming from the darkness of that deadly sea!? Why it's a sturdy ship shining bright with crystallized armor! Shining so bright almost as if it were the sun itself! Once the ship made it back to the docks, Captain Jasper Cookie hopped off and gave a hearty hello to the curious cookies who nearly surrounded the entire ship! They were amazed how Jasper hadn't aged a single bit since he left! Course, they also wondered where has he been for the past two decades? How did he survive? Why such a blinding ship? And where was his crew!? Before any of those were answered, he simple dropped a large chest full of precious treasures! Golds, jewelry, emeralds, you name it! Everyone simply became too distracted by the treasures and thanking him they forgot they're questions!

Course, even hundreds years later no one knows the answers except for him! Some rumors spread about, some saying he never went to the duskloom sea in the first place! Some say he abandoned his crew! Even some think he's a ghost due to the ships very pale colors! And the eerie shine it has at night.. Spooky! Though he found himself with a whole new crew! Some of which sharing the eerie shine with the ship! People thought this whole new crew were all ghosts of his previous crew! Such a silly rumor. There was a rumor of a shining cookie helping the sailors escape. What nonsense! A mere cooking saving a whole boat from the wraith of black pearl cookie? Now that's just silly! Some speculate it was the Shining Knight who's rarely ever seen, yet there's hardly any proof of their existence! Only a single carving on some stone of a shimmering light floating between the sea and sky!

Besides that  w e e  ramble

That silly locket Jasper carries with him everywhere seems to be getting eyed at more frequently.. Many of greedy cookies have tried to offer him many things for that locket. But he's declined every offer ever given to him. Quite a few cookies tried to threaten him to give it up, but he simply laughs at their faces and walks off! They've tried to snatch the locket, only to be met with a face plant into the wall or floor! He only laughs at their pathetic attempts to steal the locket and goes on with his day! After a day of threats and fights, he goes back to his ship and sails out with his glimmering crew. No one knows where he goes next, nor when he leaves. He and his crew are quite the mystery! Yet Jasper never aging always baffles cookies! Leaving them to ponder how he does it!

I am NOT good at writing stuff shdkd

I'm still drawing bros crew cuz I decided to make em look COMPLICATED cries

YA GET A P E E K at two of em u3u ✨

[lime-sketches114]

Welp...FF7 Rebirth came out and ummm....I have this ship with an OC called Raven and I put her with Sephiroth...Ravenroth??? Idk

I'm debating on what prompt to do them with but we'll see with the actual story. This may also tie into a painting I did~

(they also have a kid named Mercury, he's a sweetie and I made Sephiroth a sister named Seri...yay) (Mercury is not in this story but Seri is!)

Without further adoooo let's get started.

May I Have This Dance?

Rating/Warning: minimal stuff but also AWWWWW

★★★★★

Ever since I can remember, I've always been by his side. Sephiroth. The Golden Child of SOLDIER. Ever since we were young we'd be teamed up together. He was there when my father died in that freak accident. There i remained in SOLDIER. Even as a First Class rank I didn't care much for the formalities or the perks of being this popular. I always thought myself a medic and only that.

Genesis or Angeal will always tease us as teenagers. Teasing about dating, who would win in a fight, best aim, you name it. As the years passed by, I found myself trying to answer why. It had been years since Genesis and Angeal disappeared and I still hear their voices egging me on. I had things, priorities, to attend to, especially one that was his very sister, Seri.

"Raven!!! What do you mean you're not coming to the company ball?! Everyone will be there!" Seri whined as I checked her vitals on the screen and took some tests.

"I told you Seri, I have my duties to the hospital and you. Sephiroth will have a conniption, you know he doesn't dance anyways" I replied.

"well I'm going with Zack! He invited me in Aerith's place because of her circumstances! She insisted!" She fussed as she crossed her arms.

"Oh are you? Then I guess I have no choice~" I rolled my eyes playfully as I gave her medicine and a change of clothes from her closet and helped her put them on.

"Yay! Dress shopping!!!" Seri squealed. I helped her onto her wheelchair and we walked to the elevator to get to the bottom floor.

We walked along the streets of Midgar to a dress shop nearby. I was never really into girly stuff even as a kid. The only girly thing I wear is earrings bc my face still says masculine. I guess looking more like my father was half of a good thing. I'm glad I developed nicely up top and got ass for days. My dad would try and get me to wear hair berets or make up to make me look more feminine but I was a part of SOLDIER. I couldn't/it would run or snag in the field.

Seri and I walked through all the clothing racks. Seri picked out a few dresses her size. She kept on pointing to other dresses that might look good on me but none were speaking to me. Seri started scanning the whole store. I know those eyes too well, just like her brother's, always on target and ready to pounce. Then she grabbed a dark colored dress and snuck it under her picks, thinking she was sneaky. I only caught a glimpse of the color but not the style. I was worried but not in a scared way.

As we made our way to the changing rooms, she picked out a cute pink dress because she told me Aerith liked pink and wanted to respect her favorite color. Seri really has grown fond of both Zack and Aerith these past few years. I've never seen her this excited unless it was Sephiroth coming home to take her to a fancy dinner and toy shopping. She's 7 years younger than him yet they're both a spitting image of each other. They definitely are siblings.

I remember the day my father showed us her, so small and frail. It was devastating to see her health decline when she reached 10 years. My dad did so much for her, even as he got up in age, he was like a father to her. His death put a toll on all of us, I stayed with Shinra because I had nowhere else to go. That's when I became on call for SOLDIER and mostly full time at the Hospital. I made a promise to my dad and myself.

Seri showed off her dresses and then from underneath she revealed the dress she swiped for me. It was a long sleek slender gown with a slit up the leg that stops at the thigh and has one strap. It was a dark blue with shimmers.

"oh no...that's no me..." I deflected.

"Come on Raven just try it on! You never wear dresses so how can you know?!" Seri pouts and shoved the dress and shoved me into the changing room, "imma go find ya shoes! Be right back!" With those parting words she wheeled herself away and I was alone. In the changing room. With a floor to ceiling mirror...

I placed the dress over me to get a feel then I started to undress from my uniform into this dress. Once it was on I saw myself. My figure helped but I had muscle. Was that sexy? Appealing? I even posed with my leg out the slit.

"Raven! I'm back with shoes!" Seri snapped me out my thoughts and shoved the shoe box under the door. I looked inside. They were black high heels...

"You sure about this Seri?" I called out.

"trust me!!!" Seri giggled.

I gulped and tried on the shoes. I looked at myself again and was amazed. Everything...matched me... Was Seri some kind of fashion genius? Maybe those fashion magazines around the hospital didn't help.

"come on out I wanna seeeeee!!!" Seri whined and scooted her wheelchair back.

I opened the door and revealed myself. The look on Seri's face said it all. She looked like she saw an angel.

"you look...amazing!!!!" She took a picture with her phone. "Sephi will FLIP when he sees you in this dress!!!"

"you think so?" I blushed.

"I know so! And with your silver earrings to match him it'll be perfect!!! Zack is already matching me with a pink tie already. He is not scared of pink!" Seri laughed.

I smiled, "then I'll get this dress. And maybe a necklace for both of us"

I quickly got unchanged and went to go pick out some necklaces. I got matching silver bang necklaces for us. I paid for the shopping spree and we headed on home to the apartment. Only god knows what will happen tonight...

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

The ballroom of the venue was packed with higher ups and other important people. I adjusted my dress. My hair and make up fixed up to match my dress. I touched my necklace and took a deep breath and walked into the venue. Seri already left earlier with Sephiroth for the venue. She was adamant Sephiroth doesn't see me get dressed in my pretty gown. My heels clicked along the floor as my presence started to turn heads and unwanted whispers. Why am I so nervous?

Then I saw Seri and Zack talking it up in the SOLDIER section of the venue with our names on the tables on the outside of the dancefloor.

"well look who decided to show up!!" Zack chuckled, "you look pretty good in a dress and is that a clutch?!"

"yes Zack...and you look stunning in that suit. Really brings out your eyes" I teased. Zack's cheeks turned pink. "And your cheeks~"

Seri chuckled, "he at least has some good dance moves."

"Seri where is your brother?" I asked.

"over there next to the corporates and higher ups. He's been sipping champagne for an hour with them..." She pointed.

I rolled my eyes and walked over to them. The drunken fools started whistling at my appearance. I deflected their looks and focused on Sephiroth.

"Look who finally decided to wear make up after so long" Sephiroth commented as he left the drunken old men to come to me.

"you don't look half bad yourself" I adjusted his blue tie. I knew Seri would make him match me.

"Shall we go out to the balcony? Away from these fools and noise?" He suggested. I gladly accepted and we walked outside.

"I'm so used to the sound of the battlefield and hospital. Yet I always get nervous around other people." I chuckled. "At least Seri and Zack are having a great time."

Sephiroth chuckled and held Raven close, "who says we can't have our own fun out here? May I have this dance?"

I blushed and smiled, "you may" he soon pulled me in and we began slow dancing on the balcony to the muffled music of the ballroom. The moon shines full and bright above us.

We swayed back and forth and he spun me a few times. I knew he wasn't much for dancing but he learned to cheer me up when we were teenagers. He knew my father loved to dance with me. Even Genesis and Angeal got on the bandwagon. They were all my best friends. Well now I only have Sephiroth. Ever since we were young we were glued to the hip, even in battle we had each other's backs.

My heart started pounding faster at the thought of feelings for Sephiroth. Are we allowed? I'm not in SOLDIER anymore by default but I work with Seri now so it might be?

"you're making that face again~" Sephiroth spoke softly and snapped me out of my thoughts.

"what face?"

"the cute face you make when you're deep in thought or worried." Sephiroth smirked. Cute? Cute?!

"oh...sorry..." I chuckled embarrassingly.

"don't be sorry, I like it, besides you're beautiful tonight. Seri picked out a nice dress" he placed a hand on my hip, trailing his fingers against my exposed back, "and don't worry about the muscles, I like that about you, you're not dainty or fragile like Seri. Strong and stubborn."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, "you think so?"

"I know so" Sephiroth placed his other hand on my hip, leaning in closer to where we're almost nose to nose.

"I'm glad you said that, because I like a man who can keep me on my toes and always had my back for the past 25+ years" I stared into his eyes as the moonlight hit them.

"then I'll hold you to it for the rest of our lives. You've done too much to just be rewarded once" he leaned in closer.

"it's a promise" I closed the gap and kissed him. We held each other. He lifted me a bit to get one last jab at the toes statement. His chapped lips were soft and his hair was like silk. He even put it up for once in a low pony with a small braid.

We separated with a few good breaths between us. Was dad always right that I might end up with Sephiroth? I don't care, if it is true, I know where my heart lies tonight. It's definitely with him. Soon we were surprised to see Seri and Zack. Seri looked like she was about to lose it at the fact we finally kissed. Zack was dumbfounded that Sephiroth knew how to be romantic.

"I did it! I knew you guys would come out here! And you kissed!!!!" Seri squeaked out giggles and stumbled to her brother and I.

Sephiroth held her steady, "I guess your constant nagging about me staring and smiling paid off, little sister."

Seri smiled, "it's only a matter of time till I hear wedding bells! I wanna be the maid of honor! Can we invite Aerith?! Cloud?!"

"Slow down Hyperactive Kitten, it'll be way down the line for that possibility. What if we just eloped?" I chuckled.

"don't care! I still get wedding bells!" Seri smiled as Sephiroth twirled her around in his arm. She brought him so much joy. I don't remember a day where he tried to visit her and play with her, even being a muse for her paintings. She loved him just as much.

"maybe once I retire, we'll see about that" Sephiroth smiled.

Zack gasped, "you're leaving me all alone no fair! It'll just be me and Cloud!" He pouted playfully.

I laughed at his expression and we had a fun night for the rest of the evening. My feet were sore and tired from dancing. At the apartment I helped Seri get ready for bed and hung her cute dress up for her to look at in her room. I made my way to the other bedroom and got undressed into pajama shorts and a tank top. I wiped off all my make up.

Sephiroth was just in sweatpants as he looked at me with soft eyes. I walked to him and gave him another kiss. Memories of sharing a tent or a bed together on trips, even into older age, came into my mind. Entangling our bodies together to stay warm. Him placing his head on mine. Even in uniform it was comfy. Like we were two sides of one coin. We laid down in the large bed, embracing each other, with me laying my head on his chest. Listening to his strong heart. His strong arm wrapped around my figure. My olivey complexion is a clear difference from his pale skin.

"Goodnight Sephiroth" I yawned softly.

"Goodnight Raven...I love you" He smiled.

"I love you too"

[jujumin-translates]

Event | 5th Anniversary: The Way Back Home | Chapter 5 - Autumn Planet Story

*Contains spoilers for Act 12 - eternal moment*

Izumi: Is everyone ready?

Juza: Yea.

Azami: Everyone’s hair and makeup is perfect too.

Omi: Wearing these costumes is always exciting, isn’t it?

Taichi: Ah! Mi-chan and Ma-kun are here!

Sakuya: We’ll have to show them how cool we are!

Sakyo: It’s not just those two, we need to show the entire audience the best play possible.

Banri: Damn right.

Banri: …Aight, let’s do this thing!

Autumn Troupe & Sakuya: Yeah!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: (A few years before Saku leaves the ANIMS ship… This takes place before Dee received his code name “Doug”.)

Izumi: (Out of these crew members, only Dee and the oddball Saku don’t have code names.)

Izumi: (Ted, a childhood friend of Dee’s, was one of the first to receive his name, “Tig”, out of the crew members. This makes Dee even more impatient.)

Izumi: (Dee, frustrated with this, has an outburst at Tig’s father, the captain of the ship, Bear.)

Dee: “Why the hell do Rat and Bat get names, but not me!?”

Rat: “Sorry, Dee. We’re just ahead of you~.”

Bear: “Until you figure out the reason, you’ll always be half a man.”

Bat: “I mean, what’s the point of the code names anyway?”

Rat: “As part of ANIMS, getting your animal code name is a sign that you’re independent. I think you broke the record for being the youngest, Bat.”

Bat: “Huh.”

Rat: “That was the weakest reaction ever! Well, you are a certified communicator. No wonder you’re so sought after.”

Bat: “I mean, you got your code name almost as soon as you boarded the ship, didn’t you, Rat?”

Rat: “‘Cause I’m just that good~.”

Dee: “I could get certified if I wanted…”

Bear: “We already have enough communicators. If you want to be one, look elsewhere for work.”

Dee: “Tch.”

Tig: “Dee, you haven’t cleaned the decks yet. Don’t make Saku do it all by himself.”

Dee: “Fuck off, I know!”

Dan: “Dee, I think you’re just snappin’ at Bear again.”

Dee: “Shut up. And if I am?”

Woll: “Bull’s-eye.”

Dan: “Guess I won that bet.”

Woll: “No helpin’ it. That’s a big win for you.”

Dee: “I ain’t a horse for you to bet on.”

Dee: “All of you treat me like I’m stupid. Pretty sure Saku and I are the only ones on the ship who don’t have code names.”

Saku: “What’s that about me?”

Dee: “Doesn’t it make you feel pathetic that we’re always just treated like we’re not really pirates?”

Saku: “I’ve never really thought about it… I guess I’m not necessarily unhappy with my current position or anything…”

Dee: “Tch, stop fucking joking about me bein’ on the same level as someone unreliable like that.”

Dee: “If none of you are gonna admit it, then I’ll make you admit it. I’ll make you admit that I’m a man worthy of ANIMS.”

Tig: “Dee, clean the decks.”

Dee: “Just fuck off, I’m doin’ it now!”

Tig: “Haah, what the hell?”

Bear: “He’s been like that ever since his father died. You’d better keep an eye on him.”

Tig: “Why me?”

Bear: “You already know why.”

Izumi: (Dee is getting increasingly frustrated with Woll and Dan teasing him. He’s much more childish and brazen than in the original.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Dan: “That’s our target this time, Ralph’s ship.”

Bear: “Way to go, Dan. You’ve got us in a good position.”

Dee: “But I’ve got no clue what kinda things rich people like. Are we really goin’ to war with that ship?”

Tig: “It just for appearances. They don’t even have any weapons.”

Bear: “Alright, for our scouts--.”

Dee: “I’ll go.”

Bear: “Tig.”

Tig: “Roger that.”

Bear: “Dee, you’ll be with me.”

Dee: “The fuck!? Why!?”

Tig: “Shut up. Obey the captain’s orders.”

Bear: “Rat, provide logistical support. Bat, stay with the ship and jam any rescue signals.”

Rat: “Aye aye, Sir.”

Bat: “Understood.”

Bear: “Everyone else, rush in as soon as Tig attacks.”

Woll: “Aye aye, Captain.”

Tig: “Don’t do anythin’ uncalled for, Dee.”

Dee: “Shut the fuck up.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: (Dee, impatient to be successful, is the first to board the ship without listening to what the others are saying…)

Tig: “I’ll be goin’ soon.”

Rat: “Unit One is ready to-- wait, huh?”

Woll: “It’s already gone?”

Dan: “Huh, who’s on board?”

Tig: “That bastard-- Can I take Unit Two?”

Rat: “Uhm, yeah, probably.”

Dan: “Unit Three will be on standby, just in case.”

Tig: “Thanks.”

Tig: “Unit Two, launchin’ in three, two, one--.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Beeping*

Tig: “Dee! Stop actin’ so selfishly!”

Dee: “Just shut up! I’m way better at handlin’ these guys than you are! Stay outta my way!”

Tig: “That ain’t the point! This is why you’ll always be half a man!”

Dee: “Who you callin’ half a man!? Just shut up and watch me!”

*Lazers firing*

Ralph: “!? W-What was that!?”

Subordinate: “Pirates!”

*Explosion*

Ralph: “H-Hurry up and do something quickly!”

Dee: “Hah! Perfect. Nowhere to run. Now all I’ve gotta do is get in and--.”

Tig: “Dee! Three planes incomin’ at two o’clock!”

Dee: “The hell? I thought they didn’t have any weapons. I never heard anythin’ about there bein’ an escort.”

Dee: “Whatever, I’ll deal with the three planes myself.”

*Lazers firing*

Tig: “Dee, don’t go alone!”

Dee: “I’ve got it under control.”

*Explosion*

Dee: “Aight, one down. Now for the rest--.”

*Explosion*

Tig: “Dee!”

Dee: “--Gh.”

*Beeping*

Dan: “Coming in on Unit Three for backup.”

Dee: “Dan!? What are you doin’--?”

*Beeping*

Rat: “Likewise, I’ll cover you, please rescue Dee, Tig!”

Tig: “Roger that.”

Dee: “--Shit, now everyone’s involved, this is bad.”

Izumi: (And as a result, ANIMS is forced to withdraw…)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Bear: “Let’s regroup and take off at once.”

Bat: “Aye aye, Sir.”

Woll: “Glad you’re safe, Dee.”

Tig: “How’s the condition of Unit One?”

Rat: “Dee did a good job of doging, so I don’t think it’s in too bad condition.”

Bear: “Dee, your selfish actions put the whole crew in danger. Are you aware of that?”

Dee: “--Yes.”

Bear: “Your father, Bull, was honestly one of the worst leaders I’ve ever seen.”

Bear: “He was the first to jump into danger, and his first priority was always protecting his comrades by bringing up the rear.”

Bear: “‘After I’m gone, you’ll still be here, Bear. Dee will have you, so I don’t have to worry.’ That’s what he used to say.”

Bear: “Every day I stood next to him as his second-in-command made my anxious as all hell, but I was proud to be there.”

Bear: “Dee, think it over again as to why you’re not recognized as a full man.”

Bear: “You have to be aware and responsible if you ever want to lead ANIMS as captain one day.”

Dee: “Me…?”

Tig: “Why are you surprised? Hasn’t this always been your plan? You’ve been sayin’ that you wanted to be captain ever since we were kids.”

Rat: “Well, but you’re still just half a man right now!”

Dan: “At this rate, you won’t get your code name and become captain until you’re an old man.”

Bat: “And no one wants a captain like that.”

Woll: “Haha. You’re gonna have to really work at it.”

Dee: “Guys… I’m really sorry.”

Dan: “He apologized. Seems like I’ve lost.”

Woll: “And I guess that means I’ve won this time.”

Dee: “You place bets on shit like that too!?”

Izumi: (Dee’s comrades follow after him. Their tone is joking, but you can feel their belief in Dee and their encouragement.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Rat: “Huh? What about Saku?”

Bat: “He said he had stuff to carry. They brought him along to the captains’ drinking party or something.”

Rat: “I’m so jealous. I wish I could’ve gone too.”

Dan: “Well, there’s no helpin’ it. We can’t celebrate the spoils of war right at this moment.”

Rat: “That’s dumb.”

Dee: “He said he was sorry.”

Rat: “He wasn’t trying to be disagreeable or anything.”

Dan: “Stop pouting.”

Dee: “I ain’t poutin’.”

Bat: “Huh? Isn’t that Ralph’s ship over there?”

Dan: “I didn’t see anythin’ about them comin’ into port around here, though.”

Woll: “Maybe it’s because of the incident the other day.”

Dee: “‘Bout damn time.”

Tig: “Oi, you’re not plannin’ on boardin’ again, are you?”

Dee: “They came from way far away. Can’t pass up that kinda opportunity. If they come into port, we’ve got ourselves an openin’. We’ll be able to pull it off no problem.”

Tig: “You haven’t learned your lesson at all.”

Rat: “That’s our Dee!”

Dan: “It’s true, we’ve got a chance. I’m in.”

Woll: “Same here. Not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

Bat: “Ralph and his crew are gonna be comin’ in soon. If you want your chance, go as soon as they do.”

Dee: “Ya already intercepted ‘em? That was fast work.”

Rat: “I’m gettin’ hella hyped!”

Dee: “We go at 22:00. I’ll board first.”

Tig: “I’ll go too. We learned out lesson last time.”

Dee: “Permitted. When we give the signal, the rest of y’all board too. Rat will be in charge of logistical support and diversion.”

Rat: “Aye aye, Sir!”

Izumi: (The members of ANIMS are filled with excitement. Their tone of voice and facial expressions really show off their nature as pirates, as if they’re enjoying the roughness of the plan.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Dee: “Looks like they’re short of hands. Perfect.”

Tig: “You haven’t reflected at all, have you, Dee?”

Dee: “I have. That’s why I brought you along.”

Tig: “Haah. How the hell am I supposed to support somethin’ like this…”

Dee: “It’s time. Let’s go.”

Tig: “Understood.”

Dee: “Pardon us!”

Guard: “Who the hell are you!?”

Dee: “We had to leave early the other day, so we’d thought we’d pop in to say hello again.”

Guard: “Oi, someone, come here! There’s pirates!”

Dee: “Tig, the signal.”

Rat: “Oh, it’s time, it’s time.”

Woll: “We’re gonna have to kick it up a notch from last time.”

Dan: “We’ll have this over with before the captain can even find out.”

*Lazers firing*

Izumi: (ANIMS acts as violently as they want. It really shows off the true spirit of Autumn Troupe.)

Izumi: (Banri-kun’s leadership skills are put to good use for Dee’s performance, plus the action scenes with everyone are also very impressive.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Bear: “So, what’s the meaning of this?”

Dee: “As future captain, I’ve gotta make sure I finish the job I messed up on.”

Dee: “Just so you know, this was my decision, so the other guys ain’t responsible.”

Bear: “God… Dee, from this day on, you’ll be known as Doug.”

Doug: “Huh?”

Bear: “And you’re not a future captain. From today on, you’re the captain. So pull yourself together.”

Doug: “Are you for real?”

Bear: “Tig, you’ll support Doug as second in command.”

Tig: “No avoidin’ it, I guess.”

Bear: “That’s a weight off my shoulders.”

Bat: “Oi, the Space Police are headed this way.”

Dan: “If we don’t hurry, the port will be put into lockdown.”

Doug: “Aight, y’all, get ready now. We’re gettin’ the hell outta here!”

Rat: “Aye aye, Sir!”

Izumi: (Now given his code name, his determination to live as Captain Doug of ANIMS is reaffirmed…)

Izumi: (The universe of the space performance was further expanded by seeing the past stories of ANIMS.)

Izumi: (The audience seems to be thrilled to get to know the activities and the growth of Doug and the others, which differs from the main story.)

Izumi: (Autumn Troupe’s spin off performance was a huge success!)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Applause*

Sakuya: Thank you very much!

Omi: Thank you.

Juza: Thanks.

Azami: Thanks so much.

Sakyo: Thank you very much.

Taichi: Thank you!

Banri: Thank you so much!

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[wingedpastafreakbat]

I Collect BJDs, Too. Trump's Second Term Should Alarm You.

We should all know by now that Trump winning the presidency this year is catastrophic for the basic human rights of minorities in the US (and abroad, let's be completely honest here). He is planning to enact a political playbook of draconian laws meant to 'bring back' a fictional ideal of the US, one that sees everyone subservient to conservative cishet white men. This is not fear-mongering, it is simply a cold hard fact that the people backing him financially have a lot to gain from instilling a form of government that solely caters to their whims and desires, and a lot of the Project 2025 playbook not only gives the power to white men in general over that of women, LGBTQIA+, and BIPOC people within our boarders, but will give power to the wealthy white men in this country who want to own everything, including our very bodies.

This should concern you. I don't know how else to express to you that it should concern you. There are not enough words at my disposal to express just how dire this situation is for all of us. And if you aren't concerned, and you're a BJD collector like I am, then allow me to make it personal so you can understand.

These tarrifs will result in much narrower access to BJDs as a whole.

I'll use Volks as an example: Volks has a store based in the US, in Los Angeles. They send this store batches of dolls and clothes and wigs and eyes and replacement parts periodically to help keep them stocked. When they run out of a thing (unless that thing was being phased out/replaced/discontinued), the employees make a list of what they need, use their own profits to pay for it, and then Volks would send them new stock to fill the gaps. When the tarrifs take hold, this new stock will be more expensive, since Japan in general will be forced to pay higher import tarrifs. That means the US Volks location will have to spend more money on the restock shipments, which will in turn make the dolls more expensive so that Volks can maintain a substantial profit margin; but these tarrifs will backfire, because a 20%-60% increase will not translate to good profit for Volks, which means the US location will be shuttered to keep Volks from hemorrhaging money, which means your only option would be to buy your dolls from Japan... and you'd be paying the extra shipping money, because it will still cost Volks extra money to ship dolls into the US. This may result in Volks choosing not to ship dolls to the US at all, meaning you won't be able to buy any of their dolls again unless you can find a third party willing to spend their own money to send you these dolls at even higher prices that include the profit THEY need to make for doing so.

Lots of doll companies are not as big as Volks. A lot of them are considerably smaller. The smaller ones will cease operations in the US entirely right off the bat. Some will hold on, but eventually abandon us as a market. A lot of independant BJD artists in the US will not be able to make and sell their dolls because there are no well known (non-scammer) resin workers who will be able to help create a solid product the way that companies like Volks or Ringdoll or Lutz or Minifee can offer. Recast companies will also cease operations in the US, because they still need to import the recasts from the counterfeit suppliers in other countries who won't be able to afford the tarrifs point blank period. So if you thought that recasts would be an option, think again (they shouldn't be one anyway, but that's a different convo that we aren't gonna have right now).

Dolls have always been a luxury, I admit. It took me seven years to save up and buy the three girls that I have. One of them is just a floating head. She may never get a body now, since I can't afford to buy one right now and may never have the chance to do so by the time the tarrifs hit.

These tarrifs, these policies, will affect vast swathes of non-American products, like snacks, drinks, food, entertainment, and toys. One of the big ones that overlaps with the BJD community, anime and manga, will likely vanish, as it will likely be deemed 'too adult' by the religious extremists in power. You will lose access to these things and you will not have another chance to get them for a very very very long time. By the time you do have the chance, some of the BJD companies whose market focus has been the USA might be completely gone. SmartDoll, for example: their company relies on US consumption of their products, and they market HEAVILY to the US market because we are a really really easy demographic to market to on the global stage. Danny has staked a LOT of his company into our willingness to buy his extremely westernized anime dolls. They are not very popular in Japan, and he focuses very little on other markets where his negative behavior isn't as readily tolerated. Unless he does a massive pivot to a different market... SmartDolls will be gone. I won't speak on how I personally feel about SmartDoll, but I know that a LOT of people love his product, and will be utterly devastated when they can never buy them again.

So, if you are in this community and voted for him, you should be worried. I know there are people in this community who did, because I've seen the alarming uptick of conservative rhetoric in this community first hand. At the end of the day, you are probably just as disillusioned with the US government and chose to vote accordingly. Even if that meant voting for a felon who has a vetted interest in toppling our current democratic structures and isolating the US economically and cleansing it ethnically and religiously. You will lose access to your dolls.

Be ready for that.

[detectivelokis]

OC Tag Game

Tagged by: @socially-awkward-skeleton @marivenah @eclecticwildflowers @leviiackrman @emotionalcadaver @clonesupport @kyber-infinitygems @voidika @strangefable @madparadoxum @strafethesesinners

Tagging: @sstewyhosseini @jinfromyarikawa @river-ward @nightwingshero @direwombat @confidentandgood @nightbloodbix @poisonedtruth @ghastlyrider @risingsh0t @captastra @derelictheretic @gwynbleidd @aceghosts @cassietrn @trench-rot @josephslittledeputy @inafieldofdaisies @pheedraws @megraen @poetikat @swanfey @vampireninjabunnies-blog @bunfey @simply-jason @jacobsneed and anyone else who wants to tag me. I’m sure I forgot someone

Favorite OC

My baby girl. My muse. The ultimate inspo. When I first created Charlie I was not expecting her to have such an impact on my life, but I cannot imagine not writing for her now. I love how complicated she is. Cruel yet maternal, materialistic and vain yet loves her partners and few loved ones unconditionally, manipulative yet brutally honest about who she is. She’s just a fun character and I’m so proud of having created her.

Oldest OC

I haven’t really thought about Mathilda much in years, and I certainly have much older girlies from when I made OCs for Pirates of The Caribbean and Interview with The Vampire in middle school, but she was the first OC I created in years when I was hyperfixating on Vikings back in 2017. She’s a sweet girl, much different from a lot of my current ocs. She’s naive and innocent. An orphan who was raised in a convent. But, like a lot of my girls, she can’t help falling for a bad guy. One day I’ll get back to her/move her to a new fandom that’s more deserving of her.

Newest OC

My baby girl Mack is my newest girlie. She came about when I realized we were severely lacking in Claire ships and well, I needed to provide. She’s another sweet girl. A young politician’s daughter who is just trying to survive a world that she was never raised to be prepared for. I’m excited to start fleshing her out more and she’s been on the mind a lot these last few days.

Meanest OC

It was hard to choose between her and Charlie, but Dylan is cold as ice. She very rarely prioritizes the feelings of others and can be pretty harsh on them as well. One of the few people that she shows unconditional kindness and love to is her daughter, Rory. Besides that, everyone else is just another potential mark. Until she meets Zsasz that is 🙈

Softest OC

Gwen is my ultimate baby girl. She’s incredibly sensitive, optimistic, and views the world through rose-colored glasses. Very much a glass half full kinda girl. I mean, one of her main hobbies is writing love poems for her man. She’s a very rare type of character for me to write and I miss her everyday. Too bad the Arcane fandom is batshit.

Honorable Mention: Mackenzie Liu

Most Aloof/Standoffish OC

Again, it’s Dylan. Girl does not care to make friends or even acquaintances unless she’s absolutely forced to. Though there are a couple people who are able to win her over.

Smartest OC

Gwen’s favorite subjects in university were botany and philosophy. She’s a very brainy and kinda nerdy girl. That plus her innate sweetness is what makes her so perfect for Viktor.

Dumbest (Affectionate) OC

Of course it’s Charlie. And the funny thing is, she’s not even really that dumb. She’s actually fairly intelligent, but she has a talent for being able to completely ignore red flags despite actually being aware they exist. She’s also willing to shove common sense to the side when it comes to love or someone hurting her ego. When she actually does use her brain everyone is surprised by the shit she manages to accomplish.

OC I’d be Friends with IRL

Courtney! She’s the best of both worlds. She’s a tough, take no shit kinda girl, but she’s also very sweet and will have anyone’s back if they prove to be a decent person. She also has great taste in music and she’s insanely personable from being a popular bartender, so I think she would just be fun to hang out with.