#gonna tag this with an OC so i can look back on it for reference

[arthurmorganson]

what app do you use for your ocs and writing?

For my OCs I use a multitude of apps! I actually use around 6 apps in total so here’s a breakdown of it.

Firstly it goes without saying I use Tumblr and their specified tags in the pinned post of my blog to save posts or images that remind me of the characters and have their specific vibes or looks.

Further on that note I use Pinterest and Foretelling. Pinterest is entirely to document their appearance as well as the tone of their look, their designated animal and other symbolic elements, as well as environmental aspects. I use Foretelling to document their lore and important aspects in writing, ages, names, heights, backstory, motivations, strengths and weaknesses, flaws and so on. My main tool that I refer to back the most is Foretelling so it’s pretty important!

These are the Pinterest and Foretelling categories respectively and how I keep them organized.

I also use Procreate to draw my OCs and keep sheets of their looks, as well as their heights, sizes, regular design traits and specific clothing they might wear as well as… just illustrating them lol. As for properly writing, so far my favorite tools are Notes/Word for rough drafts that I can edit later and writing down ideas on the spot, and Ellipsus for writing full scenes or sections of stories. I find Ellipsus super easy to work with and it flows super nicely once I have a basic idea of where I want my scene to go.

Here’s my Procreate gallery and how it looks overall and a sample of Ellipsus from their website. Sooo hope that answers your question and hope it helps! :)

[chill-vibes-but-rainbow-panic]

Finally back, with a lil more of Chill's Artist Admiration Sketchbook; making fanart for blogs I like :D

@kingspacebar

Accessoires and colours my beloved <3 <3 <3

[kirisclangen]

Zelda

She/her, 65 moons, cis molly

[cookie-crumblr]

Hype Train!

F! Streamer Reader x M!Yandere Streamer OC

Part 1~

His Info: 📹✨

Part: 1 2

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: lots of boring tech talk(sorry i nerd out sometimes and i wanted to show his thought process for his intro) yandere, f!reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, stalking, internet stalking, lewd comments not from ML, edit: sorry! i forgot to tag NONCON EXHIBITION!!! omg that’s probably huge. i am so sorry!!!

He is always looking for smaller streamers to raid, to bring in his moderately sized and very active audience to someone who may often only get about 5-10 people.

Today, he picked you. Your cute little VTuber model already having captivated him. He looks up your sinsta first, and sees your selfies. You somehow look just like your tuber!

You’re so cute.

He clicks “raid now”, and says to shower you in love!

As soon as the alert goes off for the raid, so does a long line of follower alerts. “Wh-what?! OMG! Thank you so much!!! Welcome to my stream! how was yours? if you have to raid and run, go eat and sleep pleasantly!”

Oh goodness, you sound cute. You even cared about him without knowing him, sure he knows it’s just polite for streamers to say those things. But coming to him in your adorably sugary voice, he instantly believes you really care.

While he’s watching the swaying of your adorable little avatar on screen, he’s imagining the movements in your actual face behind the camera.

“Oh my! im so sorry, uh-” Your mic picks up your ferocious typing, and your sudden shock snap him back to the moment,“I forgot to shout you out, Jasper!”

His name rolling off your tongue sounds so perfect, as if he’s been waiting to hear it that way his entire life.

He springs into action, realizing you have no mods, lithe fingers dancing across keys swiftly and with new purpose, “No worries! Tysm for the SO!! also, i can mod for you, if you want!😊”

You beam behind your screen, “Oh! i could never ask that of you! maybe if you’re here again next time!”

Of course he will be. You don’t know that though.

“O-m-gee! Thank you all soooo much for the hype train!!! level 5?! i’ve never even had a level three!! this is crazy!”

God you’re cute when you’re so excited.

He has your selfies from sinsta pulled up in front of him as he listens deeply to you speak.

You’re so thankful, and so, so sweet…

You must be so innocent.

You’re at the very least naive, and he’d hate to just leave you to be eaten up by this cruel, cruel world…

He must get to you first.

Your stream ends a few hours later, his followers stayed the whole time to shower you in love.

He knows he’s got a lot of simps… They’d do anything he tells them to.

You though, you’ve had the most fun streaming that you’ve ever had so far! And that payout this month is really gonna help, they gave so much!

On your dipcord you see a new friend request, it’s him! You add him without a second thought, always looking for more streamer friends.

within seconds you receive a dm from him, “Want to VC?”

“Sure!” you respond, full of excitement. Something in your gut roils, you feel so nervous but your excitement overrules your body’s initial warning.

When you shouted him out you saw his own Vtuber, and heard his melodic voice, your face warms at the thought.

He calls and you answer after long seconds that feel like minutes of deep breathing, and hyping yourself up.

“How are you feeling, Y/Username, you had a pretty productive stream,” Jasper’s voice is even softer than in his clip, your stomach turns to a fluttering tangle of knots.

“Oh! haha,” you giggle, “only thanks to you!”

His heart melts in response.

“You were why the viewers stayed, don’t sell yourself short,” as he speaks he’s sifting through your public scocials.

He has noticed one older woman with her real name as her username that follows you on every single account. He continues down this path through the web. She has pictures with you, confirming that she’s your mother in the descriptions. she has her state tagged on flapbook.

That narrows it down as long as you didn’t move too far.

On your own socials you often have pictures of flowering trees near red bricks. And in one Selfie a street sign is reflected in your dark shades…

He floogle maps it, then goes into street veiw, there’s a couple red brick houses, but there’s also a red brick apartment complex right around the corner with magnolia trees…

He smiles as his fingers find his lips idly zoning out slightly.

You’re only a few hours flight away from him there…

“Jasper?” Your timid voice pulls him back.

“Yes, pretty,” He says in a low groan, “Can I follow your private?”

You blush fiercely, “Ye-Yeah! o-of course,” you’re so glad he can’t see you right now, your face completely buried in your hands.

You open your phone and go to sinstagram, he sent you a follow request and already followed your public streaming account.

You smile to yourself bashfully, tucking stray strands behind your warming ears.

He sees there are a few live cameras connected in the apartment buildings.

“Hey, this is a random question, but do you have a cat cam? i do, and i saw you have a cat on your public…” He asks, hoping to sound inconspicuous.

“Y-yeah! i do, wanna exchange kitten pics?” you laugh feeling more comfortable, he’s got a cat too! You can’t help but love cat dads…

“Always! and do you have protection on it?” he can already see that only a couple of the cameras don’t have any sort of blocker on them in these buildings. He’s almost disappointed.

There… “How cute…” He finds the one with live footage of your cat just as pictured sleeping on it’s giant plant shaped cat tree across the room.

“You mean like the warranty? Y-yeah! I paid for the 2 year…” You try to keep calm…

He sees a few creeps are already connected to your cam.

He easily follows their trail, typing away on his loud mechanical keyboard. The sound of it soothes you, you end up closing your eyes for a second.

“Oh no- You paid?” he sighs in frustration, not at you though. At whatever store took advantage of you. “This brand comes with a free two year when you buy it…” Shit. he misspoke. He isn’t supposed to know the brand.

You don’t consciously notice.

“For real?! I had no idea!!” You’re almost as frustrated. That was like thirty bucks you didn’t even have to spend.

He can’t help the small enamored smile that creeps across his face.

“Next time you want to buy something techy lemme know. I’ll make sure you get the most for what ya pay an all that… But, back to my question- I meant what kind of firewalls do you have on your router, do you use two-factor authentication on the camera?” He knows you don’t have either, but he’ll tell you what to do to start protecting yourself from these animals.

One of the connected IPs is a live cam website that nobody signs up to be on…

The comments on you from just walking in front of it sometimes are lewd and disgust him.

“I hope she walks by today, sigh…”

“She’s so hot… I wish she’d take those panties off more often though…”

“I saw the side of her ass again yesterday. looks so good, god i want to taste her…”

“I’d fuck her so good, better than whoever that ugly fucker is that comes over sometimes…”

“That guy’s so lucky…”

His face is twists in a deeper and deeper disgusted scowl the more he reads, he almost ignored the comments about a guy visiting you.

Almost.

His blood boils.

“I-I didn’t know you need stuff like that… I mean it just faces my cat’s tree anyway! hah…” You giggle more nervously again, feeling a little creeped out by the thought of someone accessing it. Do you walk by sometimes? You realize you do…

“Lemme help you.” He says almost too eagerly. Save it, he thinks quickly. “I-, I like to make sure the people around me are safe at least.”

“That’s so nice of you!! but, I don’t want to ask too much of you, I’m sure i could floogle how to myself!” You sound determined, it’s adorable, and his face softens immediately.

“Nah, it’s seriously no problem, we’re already talkin’ righ’now, an it’ll just take one sec. Promise.” You can hear the smile in his soft voice and feel more at ease again.

“Okay! if you say so, thanks so much, Jasper!”

“Mm,” He can’t help the quiet groan from hearing his name exit your lips, “‘course” He begins the process with you, and makes sure you check the “log out of all other locations” box. of course his doesn’t disconnect though.“I’ll keep you safe from now on.” His words carry a weight that you can feel. Your heart pounds.

“Thank you. I feel better already knowing my cat’s safe!”

You’re more worried about your cat than yourself.

You’re so pure

“Like i said, ‘s no problem. Come to me for whatever you need technologically.” God he hopes you do. He continues typing, working on sending his homemade virus to all these sickos that have gotten to see more of you than they deserve. “I’ll protect you from now on…”

“You-uh- S-sound like you work a lot!” You try and change the topic, your heart flipping over inside you.

“Hmm?” His rumbling voice keeps sending chills throughout your body.

“Oh! sorry, I can hear you typing on your keyboard, what are those? lubed yellows? They sound so nice…” Your face warms, a little embarrassed.

“Mhmm,” He practically moans again, you shiver, “glad you know your switches. They’re my favorite.”

“Could you show me how to lube mine sometime?”

Now it’s his turn with a warm, reddening face, hearing your voice say lube is making him think of anything but keyboards. He idly plays with his lip again, tugging it up with his teeth.

“how ‘bought I do it with you,” You shudder, not knowing, but directly feeling his hidden implications.

You sigh through your nose hoping he doesn’t hear.

He does.

He smiles, ecstatic with the knowledge that you got what he meant.

“Hey, Y/username, I have a little bit of work to do righ’now, can I call you t’morrow?”

“Of course! and it’s Y/N”

He beams, “have a nice evening, Y/N” His voice smooths even more than it already was. He’s barelyy above a whisper speaking into his mic, and straight into your ears.

The effect it has is… A little bit maddening.

“You too,” you speak up with a soft and shaky voice, “see ya later, Jasper” he can tell you’re at least a little aroused by him.

He bites his lip, feeling the tug on his snake bites.

After you hang up, he doesn’t have to wait even a second before the next call is answered:

“Sup Jazzy,” he’s used to hearing his own voice, but it’s always weird coming from another “person”.

“Sup Devvy, how’re you an Issac?”

[chirp-a-chirp]

Flickering Light

Fandom: Ikemen Prince • Character Pairing: Leon Dompteur X OC (OC Named Carla) • Other Characters: Gilbert Von Obsidian, Chevalier Michel • Tags: Established Relationship; Angst; Hurt and Comfort; Angst and Feels; Memory Flashbacks (if stories featuring physical fights/abuse trigger you, don’t read); PTSD; references of slavery and refugees; Leon route spoilers • Word Count: ~2950

Synopsis: The Sunshine prince battles darkness in Obsidian with the help of his fiancé Carla. A crumbling tower triggers childhood flashbacks for Leon he’s tried to forget.

Alternate Synopsis: With the amount of trauma associated with Leon’s childhood, coupled with an inability to discuss it out loud due to circumstance and *insert hero archetype tendencies to not easily admit weakness*, I’m convinced Leon would have some significant PTSD. And memories he’s suppressed. This is a story about how he might deal with that with a loved one.

Want to learn more about Carla and Leon? Check out these stores: Seeker and Simmer

Folks Who (Might?) Appreciate This Story: @reborn-elven-spirit @candied-boys @wistfulwanderingone @x-daedalus-x @ikeprinces-stuff @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @aide-falls @animehusbandharem @the-bird-and-the-flute @sh0jun @5mary5 @queengiuliettafirstlady @sonicsquid3000 @ikemenlibrary @eventinelysplayground @lorei-writes @dear-sciaphilia

…

“A rather bold request. I’d expect nothing less from his lioness.”  

Leon’s arm wrapped protectively around Carla at Gilbert’s needling. She and Leon, along with Yves and King Chevalier, were in an audience room within the Obsidian Castle, serving in Rholodite’s delegation finalizing a cooperative agreement with the nation of soldiers and steel. Carla stared unblinkingly back at the world-wide disaster. “Not really. Rhodolite is about to enter a peace agreement with Obsidian. That agreement is with the country, not just you.”

“But I am Obsidian.” Gilbert tapped his ebony cane on the floor to emphasize his point. “And so are you, little cub. You’re as much Obsidian as the half-mast mongrel there.” Gilbert did not bother to contain his disdain of Yves, whose cheeks flushed irritably. 

“Hey, leave my fiancé’s mother and Yves out of this. Your conversation is with me.”  Leon shot a challenging glance at Gilbert. “And by the way, it’s Carla. My fiancé’s name is Carla. Not little cub.”  

“Ah, so Rhodolite’s lion marks his territory.” The corner of Gilbert’s mouth quirked in amusement. “No need to roar at me.” 

“I can’t really help it. She’s like the sun that I stand beneath.” Leon asserted with pride, the tension in the room lifting temporarily as he looked fondly at Carla. He turned back to Gilbert, his voice warm but with a firm edge. “So, of course I’m gonna have an opinion on how you speak with her.”

“She’d have to stand on a pretty large chair to stand beneath her. Heehee.” Yves bristled at Gilbert’s words. Carla squeezed Leon’s hand reassuringly, refusing to appear ruffled.

“Our agreement allows Rhodolite to visit medical and military facilities. I don’t see how Leon and I touring your southern regions contradicts that agreement.” Carla was taking a risk in asking, but another opportunity to freely explore Obsidian—including areas near the underground network she led for refugees escaping into Rhodolite—would not happen again soon.  

“Access goes through me. Paths to freedom are available because I allow them to be. Including those near the border.” A crimson eye narrowed slightly. “Things can always be worse. Networks…vanish.” Gilbert grinned, as if he hadn’t just hinted at knowing Carla’s secret.   

Who does Rhodolite belong to—the people that live there, those that wish to live there, or both?  That one question from Carla before they had become a couple had expanded Leon’s perspective. And without kingly trappings ensnaring him, Leon felt emboldened to lean into that perspective through unofficial channels. Including the underground network he now helped Carla maintain. The fact that Chevalier, who sat at a nearby table surrounded by paperwork, had not interrupted thus far gave tacit leeway for Leon to continue. “The agreement is between our peoples. As such, Carla and I should get to know your people. Including those outside the Castle. We can’t exactly do that cooped up here.” 

“And what is more important? Me or the people?” 

“The people.” Carla and Leon spoke in unison.   

“A pair as pure as ever. I just might puke.” Gilbert smirked. “A pity you wear black Prince Leon. White suits you and the little cub—ahem, I mean Lady Carla—more. Certainly, more than him.” Gilbert inclined his head towards Chevalier. “I see why you two gravitate towards one another.”

“We are like candles, each lighting the other.” Carla’s voice softened for the first time since talking with Gilbert. Leon’s hand curled towards her waist, pulling her close. “You’re pretty amazing yourself,” Leon whispered.     

“Ridiculous.” A deep sigh penetrated the air. “Can we get on with negotiations?” Chevalier lifted his eyes from the stack of papers.      

“Your beastly king censures you.” Gilbert sneered, tossing a rolled-up piece of parchment in Leon’s direction. “Here’s the map of our southern lands. And passes granting permission to travel there. I’m sure you’re both eager to get going.”

“Just like that?” Leon lifted an eyebrow, catching the parchment. 

“I have more fun things to play with here.” Gilbert gestured to Chevalier and Yves in poorly concealed amusement. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he offered a final comment to Leon. “But remember this: Obsidian is a land known for darkness—even the brightest candles can burn out from what they see.” 

…

A week had passed since Carla and Leon’s meeting with Prince Gilbert. They were well-beyond the neat and orderly confines of the capital. Towns and villages were scattered across the increasingly barren landscape, with poorly maintained roads connecting them. 

The pair traveled by foot on a dusty trail, a smattering of gnarled trees dotting one side of the trail. The path meandered over mostly open land, littered with dead brush and dry grasses matted down from perpetual wind. Carla opened the map as they trekked along, head buried in the folds of paper. With a sudden THUMP, Carla found herself walking straight into the broad back of Leon. 

“Oomph!” Carla rubbed her nose and took a step back. She folded the map, placing it in her travel pack. “You OK?” 

Leon stood silently in the middle of the trail, a solemn gravity emanating from him. His expression was faraway and dark. 

“Is anyone there?”

A tiny hand reached towards the sky. Blistered fingers grasped at the emptiness around him before curling into his dirty palm. His hand fell to his side, brushing against the immoveable boulder he was tasked to transport to the Lord’s tower. The boy’s back flinched in anticipation of the abuse his handler would reap for not moving the rock in time.    

“No,” the boy murmured. “Like that’s gonna happen.” A part of him wanted to scream, but why bother. 

The boy’s world tumbled into darkness. He would always be lost. Trapped. Alone. A piercing voice broke his train of thought, causing him to whip his head around.

“Leon?!”

Warm fingers grasped Leon’s hand, squeezing tightly. The faded blur of that childhood memory scattered as Carla’s fingers twined with his, anchoring him to the present. The heavy, bleaker emotions associated with the memory lingered still—clear, distinct, and real.   

Carla’s eyes followed Leon as he stared intensely at the horizon. In the distance stood a dilapidated tower, crumbling with age and decay. Several sections of the tower were missing, sooty stones tossed about the ground. 

“That tower. I’ve…I’ve been there before.” Leon’s voice was quiet, barely a whisper that faded into the wind.  

Carla’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They were in a part of Obsidian neither had explored previously in their rescue missions. Most Rhodolite royalty had not been in Obsidian for non-war or espionage related activities for years. There was no way in which Leon could have been near this place before, unless…

Unless as a child. A slave. Carla’s eyes widened, comprehension dawning in rapid alarm. Leon’s hand Carla held became clammy, sticky with sweat. His jaw clenched, tightly ticking in a subconscious attempt to swallow the emotions burning inside. She turned her body, placing herself in front of Leon as if she could block the barrage of horrendous thoughts assaulting him.  

“Leon? Leon!”

He did not hear her. Leon’s body stiffened, his free hand clinching the hem of his traveling cloak to the point that his knuckles turned white. The little boy in rags reaching towards the sky was a memory Leon’s heart refused to let go. It was an incomplete memory—one that had battered him inside for years even as he tried to shut it out. But with the tower in sight, Leon now recalled more. His eyes were distant, as if watching a scene only visible to him.  

“BOY!”

His handler came rushing from the work site, face ruddy, shaking with fury. The workman did not call him by name. A name implied worth and meaning. The boy had none. The boy tried to fix an impassive mask on his features. 

“I’m almost done. See? See!” The boy barely suppressed the rising warble in his voice. 

Don’t show fear. Don’t show weakness. Don’t feel it. Don’t. Don’t.  

The boy pushed with all his might against the boulder, his shoulders and back scraping painfully against hardened jagged edges. The rock, as if mocking him, moved a scant few inches forward before lurching back to its original spot.  

“I see.” His handler rasped, eyes gleaming. “I see a need for motivation.” A massive fist came barreling from the sky. 

Don’t cry out. That’ll make things worse. So, so much worse.     

The boy crouched in a ball, hands covering his face in a feeble attempt to block the blow.

“Leon! Talk to me. Please.”

Carla’s voice was distant, echoing in the far reaches of Leon’s mind. Leon was crouched up against a tree, one of his hands gripping the roots of his hair. Where was he? How did he get here? He shrank into a tighter coil, bracing against an invisible threat. Leon’s golden eyes were dilated, nearly replaced with orbs of black.

“We walked away from the tower. You’re on the outskirts of a nearby forest. You’re safe.” With difficulty, Carla got Leon to a sitting position on the ground, his back leaning against the tree. His shoulders remained hunched, as if trying to make himself a smaller target.   

This…this was not her Leon. Present Leon Carla corrected to herself. The charismatic hero with a ready smile carried hidden darkness that dwelled deep in his mind. She had seen similar scenes play out before with others she had rescued from Obsidian. The most innocuous objects—teapots, riding crops, a lady’s red hat—could induce terror, pull people into harrowing pasts. Carla mentally added crumbling towers to clear blue skies, raw hide whips, and the smell of pine bark as triggers for Leon. 

Carla lowered herself so that she straddled Leon’s lap, her eyes the same level as his. Carla’s hands framed both sides of his face, stilling his movements so that all Leon saw was her. Leon blinked repeatedly, his shallow breathing eventually slowing, his glazed stare re-centering towards his beloved.   

“Carla…”

Her name fell from his lips, half despair, half hope. Not wanting to sink deeper into darkness, Leon reached out and crushed Carla to him. He wanted to drown in her, soak into her being. His hands grasped at her curves, seeking comfort and safety.   

Trauma. It was more visible to Carla than usual. Leon’s anguish was painful to witness. Leon claimed he felt nothing when he reflected on his pre-palace childhood. But Carla had never truly believed he was as numb to those experiences as he acted. His eyes had always clouded over, shadows flickering, with each person she and he helped through their underground network. Especially children. The mightier the hero, the greater the fall. Carla’s eyes watered as she sniffled loudly. Leon stopped his movements, his eyes widening at her expression. 

“Leon…” She pressed her lips against his shoulder, caressing a scar so faded it was nearly invisible. Her hands grazed the contours of his upper back, fingers tracing muscles previously lanced with marks of a whip. “I’m here sweetheart.” 

Emotions beyond language’s ability to express them filled Leon as he clung to her. Carla could feel the thrum of Leon’s pulse against her skin, her lips connected to him in an act as spiritual as it was physical. Her presence was life giving—to the prince he was now and the boy he was then. Carla sighed softly and leaned slightly back. She wrapped her fingers through Leon’s wind-blown locks, attempting to coax him. “Do you want to talk?”

“Of course. It’s you.” 

There was sincerity in Leon’s words. “Don’t worry about me. I was just thinking earlier. That’s all.” His voice was casual, nearly dismissive. Dismissive of himself and the need to unburden his mind. 

“I’m your fiancé. It’s my job to worry about you. You don’t do it enough yourself.” 

The rebuttal that flitted to Leon’s lips vanished under the directness of her gaze. His eyes wavered with emotion. “I’m sorr—”

“If you say I’m sorry for the gift of knowing you—ALL of you—I’m going to have words.” Carla’s vivid blue eyes pierced straight into his soul. A wounded soul that did not know whether it was safe to reveal itself yet. “Your heart cries out even if your eyes don’t.”

Don’t cry out. It’ll be over soon.

The boy uttered not a sound, even as clinched fists and hardened boots collided against his arms and aching ribs. His handler had done this before. He knew it would happen again.

Nothing. He willed himself to feel nothing.      

“You hold back. Stop carrying that weight. Let it out.” Leon flinched reflexively as fingers grazed his ribs. But these touches were light, soothing, did not batter and bash. They lingered on him, as if trying to lance away the pain he held onto.  

Pain. He learned to live with it. Numbness and resilience intersecting into a blur. A blur that had him drowning on dry land. But now he sought air.

Leon let out a shaky breath. “I…I was here.” Another breath. “I looked at the sky. I couldn’t move a rock.” Another breath. “And then…fists came down.” 

Love—an emotion so sweet yet fragile. Something to protect and be protective over. Driven by the force of that emotion, Carla threw her arms around Leon, cradling his head to her as he shook uncontrollably. 

He felt everything. Everything he had suppressed most of his life. Words tumbled out of him, nightmarish memories crowding his mind as rapid fire as fists from the sky. 

“Please. Please. PLEASE. STOP!”

He screamed—for all the times he had not. 

“STOP!” Leon screamed repeatedly into Carla’s shoulder, raw, sharply piercing. The roar of a wounded beast and a terrified boy tangled into one. Leon winced repeatedly, as if struck by repeated blows. Carla curled herself around him, clinging tightly over him, her body shielding him from his handler, the looming tower, everything. He shuddered for what seemed like an eternity, gasping for breath, voice cracking. “STOP…stop…please.” 

And then, startling silence. 

The boy laid down in the mud. The air was empty, devoid of the faintest warmth. The taste of iron trickled down his cheek from a gash near his temple. His handler was gone, having made his point. 

Ache. His body ached. His heart throbbed, whether with pain or resignation he did not know. A loneliness surrounded him that ached even more. 

Another slave, trained in rudimentary medics, eventually came by to treat the boy’s wounds. The boy remained face down in the mud, barely moving.  

“Some people scream so loud anyone can hear’em. Wail like babies even.”  A glob of ointment, thick and gloopy, was roughly rubbed on the boy’s shoulders. “You kid? You scream in silence.”

To know another’s pain, to be allowed to see it and witness its vulnerability was a humbling experience. The air was still, as if recognizing the significance of the moment.

“It’s not OK what happened to you. All of it.” 

A painful pressure squeezed the breath from Leon’s lungs and then released at Carla’s words. He had never heard that—an acknowledgement of what he went through, the wrongness of it all. His brothers now knew of his past, but it was never spoken of—a buried truth, an unofficial price for maintaining his status as fourth prince. The silence of it all was too much. 

The boy was too tired to scream. 

And yet. A faint flicker within his heart refused to die out.

 He lifted his head from the mud.   

“If I were in trouble, what would you do?” The words were barely audible, mumbled into Carla’s shoulder. Leon slowly raised his head. I don’t need fixing his golden eyes seemed to plead; I need…I need…

“I’d help you.”

Understanding. “Regardless of who I am?” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the words escaped him.  

“I love you. All of you: past and present; pauper and prince; perfect and pained.” Her voice flowed with understanding and affection. “You speak as if the boy you were before should be gone, forever erased. The echo of him remains, buried inside, guiding you. And I am grateful that boy is still there wanting to be seen and heard.”

Carla cupped a hand to Leon’s cheek, gently encouraging him to look at her. “That boy has made you who you are. You are a man who has witnessed darkness but carries light for Rhodolite. You have walked out of fire but come back with water for those that are still in flames, seeking help within our underground network. You show compassion because that boy knows what is like to have had none.” 

Her words seeped into his being. Love touched every fractured piece of Leon, mending him back together. “So yes, I’d help you. Because I adore you. And because you’ve looked pain in the eye, and you’ve stared back with love—love for your country, your brothers, your people.”

“And you.” Leon was filled with searing warmth. “Especially you. More than anything.” Amber eyes radiated hope again. 

“I would hope so, considering we’re engaged.” Carla smiled slightly. 

His heart squeezed at her teasing words. “You move me so much Carla, it’s almost absurd.” He clasped her to his chest, squeezing tight. “Thank you.”

A hand reached for the sky. 

Is anyone there? 

“You’re not alone.” Carla’s hand was steady as Leon reached for it. Her fingers grasped his, twining together. An unspoken promise to never let go. 

“We are candles, each lighting the other.” Carla repeated the words she had spoken to Gilbert. “And I will light your way through the dark.”

[splitster]

answering more asks!!

featuring pom wraith, pingo, ocs?!, and older art check it out (three's some art 💖)↓↓

THANK you!! ohhh i do have old pikmin ocs... i actually revamped my old captain a while back, i can share him:

i had a whole crew of pikmin ocs who were a part of the S.S. Harmony, they were gonna be SUCH a nuisance to everyone they ran into...

i thought about making a rescue corps oc for fun. hrmm! maybe...

AHHH thank you!! i've seen a shocking number tags and asks from people saying that I'm apparently the reason they like Dingo now? and i have to say that is so mind boggling to me, because when i first played Pikmin 4 I didn't care about him at all!! he was a nothing sandwich to me... but then i drew him a few times... and started thinking... and then things went downhill and now i REALLY like him...

(referring to this post) i think dingo is better when he's withered

(referring to this comic) I HEAR YOU... I HEAR YOU... but if any tear at all would cause oxygen poisoning, i wouldn't be able to draw them all battered and cool :(

i imagine that there's a seal around the neck in case there's a breach in the suit's lining. so as long as their backpack (life-support) works and is connected to their helmets, then they can breathe✨

(referring to this post) Olimar would be horrified because he knows Louie, and if he sees that note there's only one thing it could mean! his coworker tried to eat pom!! if pom hasn't been outed as wraith and Olimar is questioning her, she'd just say Louie bit her and then refuse to answer any follow up questions 💖

Shepherd would be... concerned. she might think they have a weird fling going on and louie's talking about a kiss? she probably wouldn't realize Louie quite literally means he ate something from pom. oops!

that's a really good question... I'll be honest, with a lot of the "when and how did x happen" questions, there's not an official timeline or anything; the pom wraith au is sort of an umbrella with a bunch of different stories and what-ifs underneath it. although there was one story where louie does find out her secret!

louie and pom end up bridging their differences (with the help of olimar), and become good friends while pom is continuing the rescue effort. then there's a very unfortunate incident where pom and louie are away from the base and they're attacked... pom has to reveal herself to defend them and she accidentally hurts louie :(

its fine though, louie doesn't care what pom is. they're both freaks in his mind and that's all that really matters. he does end up having to defend pom from olimar (who's been made vindictive through his trauma with the plasm wraith) sometime later!! here's some older art:

sure

me too! they do NOT get along... louie's kinda pissed at her for chasing him around on PNF404 and beating him in dandori battles when he just wants to stay there and vibe. pom meanwhile doesn't understand him, he pisses her off too! she likes olimar a lot, and as an outsider it looks like louie doesn't appreciate the friendship olimar offers him. to someone who's trying to understand and participate in this whole friendship business, she thinks he's ungrateful and weird. they do not get along!! at the beginning at least...

AHHHH!!! THANK YOU!!! WAHH...🥺💖💖 i'm very glad you enjoy my silly little art style!! i want to make things very squishy so i appreciate that 💖

i don't think that man is going to live!

wait actually if you eat enough maybe you just turn into a wraith. that'd be scary! hopefully olimar's there to stop him

that's a fun thought! he would probably be able to sense that something is off about her. but he'd also probably just think "she's weird like me." honestly, the whole wraith thing doesn't really matter much to him -- the only thing it changes is that pom can now offer her tendrils as a skewer for his cooking at any time and location!

i think i'm gonna call her rose wraith!! and ohh, i didn't know that... i was just gonna call her rose wraith since she has a rose head. i'm creative i promise

(referring to this post i think) AHHH hehe... honestly, when Pom first learns about Dingo's fear of blood, she only tries to keep him from it because it's really annoying dealing with your coworker when they faint. he's like a sack of potatoes when he's knocked out. but yes, as they become actual friends pom will (subtly) do her best to keep blood away from dingo. it's fortunate she doesn't have any!

she might not get phobias, but she understands what its like to have a crippling fear, so she's empathetic!

THANK you. he has sunglasses. he's pretty cool

AHH THANK YOU... i like them a lot... 👉👈

let the marching pikmin give you the energy you need to practice🫡

[dorkus-mcdingus]

Played Like a Puppet

Tags: TWST Fem!OC x Platonic!Canon, Stage in Playful Land, Platonic!Rosalie x Gidel Honest/Gino Foulworth

AN: I mainly use the EN localization for some of the dialogue but I use Fellow and Gidel's JP names (I mainly see Ernesto Foulworth and Gino Foulworth being the names they've chosen once Playful Land sank so it's why I don't use it and why Rosalie and the other characters refer to them with their JP names). Also, Gidel admittedly was an interesting character to write since I've never written a mute character before so I really hope I did him justice. 😅

‘If only that talk worked!’ 

Was the resounding thought that rang through everyone's heads as they continued to sit like lifeless, stringless puppets in their cage. While the minutes ticked by, everything seemed hopeless as one by one, a fellow schoolmate got locked up behind the dimly lit stage with them to be sold off for a hefty profit. Or at least that's what their kidnappers were thinking.

‘The money we get from handing you over is gonna put food on our table. You better thank ‘em while you can, Gidel. Y’know, for filling our bellies!’ 

Those words for Rosalie rang an all too familiar tune, annoying enough to make someone's ears start bleeding. Despite the rage, the urge to grab Fellow's cane and beat them senseless with it, deep in the pit of her stomach along with his little exposé on why they're getting kidnapped, her grimace turned to a deep sigh and a frown. 

They were nothing short of desperate with their situation, and heaven only knew how long those two were suffering out on the road. It wasn't smart to have sympathy for a couple of con men, but with them having no home, Fellow's immense jealousy for those lucky enough to get a proper education, and them having to constantly worry about when their next meal will be, that they stopped so low to commit heinous deeds. It's a tale all too familiar with the girl. 

From Grim's frown, to her fluffy tutu, to the dingy wooden floorboards she and her schoolmates were forced to sit on behind the main stage, her eyes couldn't stop wandering around the room even as she tuned out the noise the others were making. 

Although, the sight of the tiny cat beastman caught her eye as he stood close to the cage as if he were guarding it with his life. With the giant mallet clenched tightly in his tiny fists, he would occasionally cast a glare at the prisoners, warning them to keep quiet.

As for the captured boys, some would kill their boredom by talking with each other but just to annoy Fellow while he was taking a long call, Lilia called,

“Marco!” 

They all looked at each other with confusion completely etched on their faces.

“Marco!” 

The call was met by a few minutes of silence until a voice called back,

“Polo!” 

“Ah, kufufu! If I can guess, is that Cater I hear?”

“Ah, you got me Lils!” 

“Hey wait a minute, don't you usually play this game when you're swimming?” Jack asked. 

Jade couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

“Is that so? What an odd game.” 

“Yeah, you usually play this when you go swimming.” Cater explained. “Although one thing I should mention, you play this with your eyes closed.”

Amidst the annoyed groans and the calls, Rosalie kept her mouth shut as she kept glancing at the little boy playing the role of a prison guard.

“Mrah? Why are ya lookin’ at Gidel, Ro?” Grim whispered. 

Rosalie shot the tubby direbeast a look as she whispered, 

“Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut, Grim.” 

“Hehe, you got a plan or somethin’? That's my henchman!”

“No. In fact I lost all faith that we’ll get out of this alive.” 

“EEEEEEH?! THEN WHY DID YOU TELL ME TO KEEP MY EYES OPEN AND MY MOUTH SHUT?! Geez, Crowley really slammed me with one downer of a henchman!” 

Without a second thought, Gidel was quick to hit the cage in order for him to quiet down.

“I wouldn't go swinging that around all willy nilly little kitty cat.” Leona remarked with his usual smug tone. “You don't wanna damage the goods and get in trouble, do you?” 

Alas for him, the arrogant lion had a point. It was bad enough that the property was getting damaged, but if he were to damage the goods?! Not only would that get Fellow in trouble, he knew he would be upset with him.

There was no doubt that the Night Raven students were unbearably annoying, but much to their dismay, they wereprecious cargo. They're the top of the line puppets complete with powerful magic. In both Rosalie and Grim’s case, she was supposed to be the beast tamer to the gluttonous direbeast and the set couldn't be broken or damaged whatsoever!

Seeing his down turned ears, she looked over to him quietly saying,

“Oi! Oi! Gidel?”

Turning to the girl, he shot her an icy stare and shook his head. He then pointed to the room where Fellow was, pointed to himself, and shook his head once more. 

“Fellow said to not talk to you? Is that what you're saying?”

He nodded. 

“Well why not? I'm just waiting out the time until I become mute and lifeless like a doll, so I thought speaking to you would take my mind off of this.” 

Gidel's ears stood up and his eyes went wide while cocked his head as he raised an eyebrow. Did this girl realize that he couldn't speak? Was she out of her mind?! Still, compared to Grim as well as the rest of these gremlins from Hell, and aside from her heckling his big brother, she was more mild mannered. 

As cautious as he was, he decided to listen to her and answer her questions as best as he could despite the barrier between them. Besides, they weren't going to be free anytime soon, so why not entertain her one last time? 

It started off simple with questions like

“Where are you from?”

“What's your favorite color?”

“How did you meet Fellow?” 

Little things to get to know him better, and in turn, she would answer the same questions about her. Only, she would detail how she met Grim for the first time, never forgetting the fact that he set Kalim's rear on fire along with the rest of the mirror chamber. 

As it turns out, Fellow had been looking after Gidel for as long as he could remember and was the only one that could understand him while others didn't bother trying. No matter what, even despite his difficulty with speaking, his big brother always made him feel included. Even with the kind of life he was dealt with, it was incredibly hard especially since he had trouble reading and writing. Not to mention, he's seen how much this had been affecting Fellow as he didn't have a great education himself so he had to teach him what he can. 

“I see.” Rosalie sighed. “Seems like you two only have each other in this cruel world. I feel a similar sentiment with myself and Grim, as he and I have witnessed all sorts of trouble. Still, much like yourself if anything happened to Fellow, I would be just as heartbroken if anything happened to Grim.” 

Gidel huffed as he stamped his foot hard. He paced the area near her side of the cage, grasping his short and shaggy hair with his sleeve-cloaked hands. He pretended he had a magic wand (or a magical pen) in his hand, waved it in the air and shot it as if he were casting a spell. 

“Wishing you had magic? I'm guessing you're thinking that if you had magic then you could help your brother suffer less.”

He nodded. 

Deep down something in him wished he was bigger and stronger so he could help him more. All he had for protection was the mallet he carried with him everywhere at any time.

“I get that.” Rosalie remarked with a sad smile. “Having power on par with my peers would be a great asset, but being magicless isn't all bad. Although, much like you, I don't know my parents either. Before my brothers left the foster home, we were as close as can be. It's been a long time since I've seen them so I’m a little jealous that you and Fellow have such a strong bond.”

In return, Gidel gave her a smile and a nod. 

“By the way Giddy, how much do you think Grim and I will be worth in your eyes?"

Once more, Gidel's ears perked up while his eyes went wide.

“I'm just curious because for the longest time I never thought I was worth anything. Hell, I just thought that I would be discarded like trash.”

The little boy closed his eyes, mimicking the same thoughtful pose Fellow would often do. He paced the floor before he raised his arms high above his head, then slowly lowered them back to his sides, nodding with a cheeky smirk.

“That much?” 

He smiled, giving another nod as he happily bounced on his toes. 

“You're quite the confident little con man, aren't you? Did you ever hear how much of the cut you two are going to get?”

Pausing for a minute, he took a step back. From what he could remember, their boss had plenty of Thaumarks to give and said it himself, but the way the girl phrased it made his stomach drop. 

‘What is she thinking? What does she know about him?!’

"How do you know your boss isn't lying to you? How do you know that he'll keep his word and make you rich?”

Seeing his eyebrows pinch together, he held his mallet tight, ready to hit the cage again.

How dare she say that! How dare she scare him like that! Last time they worked for him, they made so much money that they didn't have to worry about food for a long time! Why is she insinuating that they're getting screwed over! Fellow sacrificed everything for this! His pride, his blood, sweat, and tears, he would do anything if it meant that he and Gidel could be able to be comfortable and not worry about their next meal anymore! 

Still, the threat didn't deter the girl that was stuck in a ballerina's costume. Instead, she looked him in his bright green eyes, much like how Fellow would calm him down whenever he had a nightmare, and gently said to him,

"I ask because I worry for you both." 

‘What?!’ 

Was all he could think. The sheer amount of confusion was completely plastered on his face as he tried to process what she said. She knew they put her and her schoolmates through this so why was she more worried about them than herself?! Did her head get dropped as a baby or something?!

Unable to make sense of this, he shrugged his shoulders as if he were asking her,

“Why?”

“Because I've been around men like your boss, or more accurately, I've been adopted by people like him. Believe me, it's hell. Either I get called a demon child, I get neglected, or I’m just primped to make them look good when really, they don't care about me at all. In the end when they get bored of me, or they don't feel like taking care of a girl that they adopted as their daughter, I get thrown out like some old toy no one wants to play with anymore.”

The way her eyes didn't waver as she told him her cold and brutal truth, Gidel's eyes grew wide. While she could acknowledge that despite her rough upbringing, she was far more privileged than them. However, that mutual understanding of being a puppet for the wealthy men who don't even give a smidgen of a damn about them, made his ears turn downward. 

At least there was that little bit of common ground between them.

Upon realizing this, Rosalie let out a dry laugh in spite of herself.

"Sounds familiar I suppose. The truth is, I know what it's like to be a puppet for wealthy jackarses like him. They promise you so many wonderful things only for them to play the wolf in sheep's clothing and lie to your face. If your boss truly cared about you, he would do anything if it meant you two are safe and sound. From the sound of how pissed off your brother is, seems like he's the puppet boy in this sort of business transaction. A corporate slave made to dance for the men who look down on you two.” 

As much as he hated to admit it... she had a point. She clocked them just like that. 

The realization made the boy’s heart race and his breathing grow heavy. She and Grim were just like them. A pair of lost souls trying to survive while only having each other in this cruel world. Knowing that she's from another world with no relations in Twisted Wonderland, if not for the headmaster taking her in despite NRC only enrolling men, they would've ended up just like them. Broke, homeless, scraping by so they could afford something to eat, and to add insult to injury, she was a layperson just like him. 

In truth, the thought was more terrifying than any run-in with the police. Someone meeting the same fate as theirs.

With a frown on his face, he looked over his shoulder making sure Fellow was still distracted by the boss ripping him a new one over the phone. Once he was in the clear, he reached inside the cage bars and gently touched her cheek with his eyes slowly blinking at her. 

“Thank you. You're a sweet kid, you know that? Just a shame the world spat you out like you're a piece of rubbish. Oh well, on the bright side, at least I’d be able to help feed you both.” 

The moment they both heard the phone slam and Fellow groaning, completely irritated, Gidel immediately took his hand away from the cage as the fox beastman’s steps drew closer. 

The gaudily dressed park manager fished a cigar and a lighter from his pocket, while the room immediately became cloaked with the smell of smoke the moment he walked in. 

“Mind letting me have a hit from that? I had a rough night.” Rosalie groaned. 

“Heavens, no!” Fellow retorted as he exhaled another puff of smoke. “Also, aren't you a little young to start smoking?”

“I used to steal some of my sister's cigarettes when I was fourteen. They tasted like arse if I’m being honest with you. However tonight, I feel like relapsing into my old habits again if I’m going to be a puppet for the wealthy again just like you are right now.”

As kind as she was, she was harsh with her cutting remarks from her sharp tongue as well as her never-ending sarcasm. It was easy to write her off as a privileged little schoolgirl but who could tell how much hurt she took until she became so jaded.

As far as the NRC scholars were concerned, the fact that she somewhat understood them made the scars hurt so much worse.

After all, it takes a special kind of pain to make such twisted individuals like these nasty little brats.

[shes4twnksinatrnchct]

Hell of a Show

Jake Kiszka x fem oc

Fifteen years after resigning from Greta Van Fleet, for reasons undisclosed to the public, Coley Payne is asked by her former band members to tell her side of the story.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, angst, fluff, first love, drug and alcohol abuse, mental health struggles, character death, familial grief, reference to sexual situations, *explicit sexual situations (smut warnings will be mentioned pertaining to each chapter it occurs in).

Please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and enjoy!

***LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED***

Prologue

2039

His shaky fingers curl around the key in the ignition, freeing it and shutting the car off as the sun glares down on him through the windshield. 

The blonde brick of the quaint house fills him with an anxious dread because of who resides within its walls—and perhaps it wouldn’t be weighing so heavy on his heart if the last time he saw her hadn’t ended the way it did. 

The blacked-out shades of his sunglasses pair perfectly with his blank expression, a heavy breath leaving him as he gets out and shuts the door. 

A familiar brunette is walking back to the front porch from the mailbox, already thumbing through a stack of envelopes and picking one out. 

“She’s not gonna read it.” Collins informs her aunt’s ex-boyfriend, handing the unread letter to him. 

Glancing down at it, he sees it’s from Sam. 

Their last ditch effort to coax Coley back into the limelight has been on the cusp of communicating via carrier pigeon being that she threatened to start blocking phone numbers if anyone else mentioned a word to her about it. 

Josh, Sam, and Danny have all extended invitations and Olive Branches—though the latter has been unnecessary because her leaving wasn’t messy or disrespectful. 

Contrary to popular belief amongst fans, there was no big catastrophe that got Coley kicked out. 

In fact, it would have been easier on Jake if there had been. 

And, now, his only saving grace for showing up unannounced at her house is that he’s the only one who hasn’t tried to contact her. 

“Is she home?” He asks the young woman, Collins stepping onto the front porch. 

“She is.” She flatly tells him. 

“Can you let her know I’m here?”

Collins turns to look at him, briefly. 

The last time Coley and Jake spoke in person was the weekend of Elton John’s 90th birthday celebration she and Collins attended—along with the guys. 

That was two years ago, and though Collins never knew the details of their reunion, she could put two and two together when her aunt  stormed into their hotel room the next morning in nothing but the shirt Jake had worn the night before, ferociously packed her things, and told her niece,“We’re leaving. Now.”

“I don’t know. Are you gonna piss her off again?” Collins quips, furrowing her brows. 

Though she’s only about twenty years older than she was back then, she’s still that smart-mouthed kid that would kick him out of his own bed in the middle of the night to curl up next to her aunt—her and her younger brother, both. 

“That’s the only reason I’ve been placed on this Earth.” He tells her somewhat impatiently. 

She rolls her eyes and steps inside the house, calling out, “Aunt Coley!”

“Yeah?!” He hears her say back.

A box fan is the only sound in the house aside from the low speaking of the TV from the living room while the heat from summer infiltrates the home in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. 

She sweeps her dirty blonde hair off of her neck, pulling it into a clip while following the sound of her niece’s voice and breezing by the narrow table in the hallway that’s stacked with recent months-worth of letters she’s been ignoring from former close friends—along with the phone calls and texts she’d magically forget to return. 

“There’s a man here to see you.” Collins informs her with a lack of enthusiasm. 

“HVAC?” Coley inquires with relief, having been battling the fight of no air conditioning for days, now. 

He feels as if he’s going to faint the closer her steps grow to the front door, his breath growing all the more complicated to keep steady as her voice permeates through the house. 

“Unless your ex-boyfriend started a new career—no.” She replies. 

A smile takes his features hostage at the sound of Coley’s laugh, a sound he’s missed more than he’d been able to put into words for the last fifteen years—instead scrambling to hear it in the joy of other women and hoping that it’d make him as happy, to no avail. 

Coley laughs because she assumes Collins is just bullshitting her, and the stir in Jake’s gut worsens when she abruptly stops upon realize it’s not a joke. 

“What?” 

“He’s outside. He told me to tell you he’s here.” The younger woman shrugs, watching her aunt’s face display a multitude of emotions—settling on one of ornery frustration. 

The door swings open, only leaving a screen door between the two of them. 

Blue eyes go wide, the wind being beat out of her the moment she sees him. 

Immediately, she’s snapping around to make sure Collins hasn’t followed her to be nosy. 

Before Jake can properly explain the reason for his visit, her nostrils are flaring, and she’s hissing out a sharp, “Seriously? They sent you?” while she opens the door and steps onto the porch with her arms crossed.

Irritation leaks from her pores as she stares up at Jake and waits for him to say anything back. 

He’s too focused on the fact that she seemingly appears to look even better than she did the last time they saw one another, aging like fine wine. 

The explanation he planned to present has evaporated from his mind, and the longer he looks at her, the more dumb he feels himself become. 

“Hi,” Is all he can muster, just like the last time he’d been face to face with her despite the fact it was the first time in thirteen years they’d crossed paths. 

Only the lack of conversation last time was easier to blame on the amount of people present, that is until they both got a couple drinks in themselves and slipped from the crowd. 

Now, it’s only the two of them, bright eyed and sober, and Jake can’t manage more than one syllable. 

Coley’s just as disoriented, only she’s better at hiding it, disguising it in anger when she asks, “What the hell are you doing here?”

It’s now that Jake has to regain his balls and composure, clearing his throat. 

“I was in town and thought I’d swing by.” He rubs his nose, not even trying to hide his nervousness with being confronted by her so directly.

“You were in town?” She inquires, raising her brows.

The tone of her voice and bitchy expression on her face melts him out of his passive shyness, his eyes narrowing at her. 

“Yeah.” Jake states, leaving no room for doubt, but Coley finds one reason not to buy his bullshit…

“You were casually in town four hours away from your home?” She flatly asks, next. 

“You’re not gonna invite me inside?” He avoids her question blatantly, a smirk coming to his lips that further stokes at her vexed demeanor. 

“I don’t let strangers in my house.” She’s quick to rebuttal. “Especially when they’re here to harass me on their brother’s behalf because he can’t accept a simple, ‘no’.” 

“You were expecting Josh to accept, ‘no’?” Jake scoffs, a dark brow darting upward over his sunglasses. 

“Being that we’re all at the grown age of forty-three? Yeah, Jake. I did expect him to.” 

Ignoring her strike, he states, “You look good,” while shamelessly eyeing her. “Are you getting shorter?”

“You look tired.” Coley fires back. “You should probably lay off the booze. And the pot. And the road.” 

Her last line has a bite to it that he can admit is somewhat warranted with their past. 

“That was my plan until I had to come down here and make sure you were alive.” Scoffing it out, he glances around the yard—never having seen her house for himself. 

Coley watches him do so, using his distracted disposition to take a moment to appreciate his own good looks. 

He’s still keeping his hair long, and his facial hair thicker, and his skin is still disgustingly wrinkle-free despite the sun he’s soaked in through the years. 

“Well, I’m alive.” She says, her tone rushing him to finish up and leave, but he continues taking his time. “And well.” 

He’s looking down at her again with the last addition to her reassurance. 

“Are you?” 

“Yes.” Coley nods. 

“Hmm.” 

“‘Hmm’? Why are you ‘hmm’ing? What’s there to ‘hmm’?” She demands, next, her eyes narrowing at him as the words topple out of her and her head shakes. 

“I mean, adamantly avoiding your friends is not the actions of someone who’s well.” 

“I’m not avoiding anybody. I’m just avoiding whatever it is Josh and Constance are working on.” Coley informs him, her mouth spitting out the name of their former manager while simultaneously handling his brother’s with care. 

“It’s not just Josh and Connie. All of us are involved—” He informs her, throwing his hand out to gently grasp her arm when she lets out a sarcastic laugh and turns to go back inside as he adds, “—And we don’t feel comfortable speaking for you.” It’s finished out genuinely, Coley glaring at the black screens over his eyes, fighting to see the brown of his irises through them while he forces himself to drop her arm. 

“Then don’t. It’s not anybody’s business what happened. That’s why I’ve gone out of my way not to talk about it publicly.” She reminds him. 

Without explicitly mentioning their last conversation, she once again takes a dig at him. 

It’s the source of such hostility, between years wasted on him and tears cried over him. 

But he can easily blame her for the same sins that she blames him for—which all boil down to simply wanting different things. 

He clenches his jaw briefly as he swallows his pride and starts, “Coley, I was an ass the last time we spoke—” He stops when she pulls his sunglasses from his eyes to make him look her in the eyes upon the realization he’s about to apologize, and he watches as she tosses the shades to the chair sitting close to the door, biting his tongue when she crosses her arms again and peers up at him. “—I can admit that, and I can say, ‘I’m sorry,’ but you’re not completely blameless in all of this either.” 

“And this is why I’m not speaking about this shit.” She argues. “Because you still have it in your head that me leaving the band for  my family was some unforgivable trespass.”

“You leaving the band wasn’t something that needed forgiveness—but it wasn’t just the band you left, was it?” He asks calmly, knowing that he has her pinned, and has always had her pinned with the question that she still refuses to acknowledge fifteen years later. 

“Get back in your car, drive off to Nashville, or whatever interstate you won’t stay off of, and leave me alone.” She says, turning again to open the door but he kicks his boot out to shut it once more. 

“Coley.” He mumbles and she shakes her head and won’t look at him, teary eyes keeping on the door inches from her face. “Look, nobody  sent me here, okay? I just…” He trails off as he tries to put into words what he’s trying to say. “…Kayce called me after Connie reached out to him trying to get in contact with you about it and I got worried.” 

Of course her oldest nephew had turned to Jake after Coley explicitly stated she didn’t want to talk about it. 

Kayce and his little brother Rhett had spent more time trying to convince their aunt to participate in whatever documentary Josh had been cooking up about the band ever since the singer had mentioned it two years prior. 

“He thinks it’s important that you talk about it, because the more you don’t, the more people take it as an opportunity to believe whatever made-up bullshit they’ve created to explain it for themselves. And I agree with him completely. We all do. What’s out there is so far from the truth, and it's not fair to you.”

She doesn’t reply immediately, knowing the point he's making is a good one, having her own various frustrations with the lies being spun around her departure from the group.

They'd all been reading lies for years surrounding why she left the band: imaginary tales of her drug addiction issues, how difficult she had been to work with, and her lack of talent which resulted in dead weight the three instrumentalists had to carry--all of which were completely alleged, only being speculated by people who either had nothing better to do, or begrudged individuals who Coley perhaps wasn't the nicest to for good reason.

She had always kept her mouth shut and just let everyone talk, requesting that her niece and nephews, family, friends, and former bandmates do the same...

And here's her opportunity to speak up for herself, in her own words, with the support and backing of her former bandmates--making her words, their words.

Jake isn't going to grovel with her, not having the energy to at the moment, and relents.

Removing his foot from the door to free her, he steps to grab his sunglasses so he can leave. 

Coley turns to face him while he walks away, and as he's stepping down the stairs of her front porch, he comes to a halt when she finally asks, “How long is all of this going to take?”

1 YEAR LATER

In 2012, rock band Greta Van Fleet was born from the outskirts of Frankenmuth, Michigan.

The original line-would exchange and expand to consist of founder Jacob Kiszka (Lead Guitarist), his brothers: Samuel Kiszka (Bassist), and Joshua Kiszka (Lead Vocalist), as well as Daniel Wagner (Drum Kit), and Coley “C.J.” Payne (Rhythm Guitarist, Backing Vocalist).

In 2024, the established group of five would shift, as Payne would announce her departure from the band.

Neither Greta Van Fleet, nor C.J. Payne made a comment on the matter, initially.

The silence was only broken when C.J. gave her only on-record citing of her split the year to follow.

When asked why she took her final bow with the band, Payne stated: “Our differences were more irreconcilable than artistic.”

Fifteen years later, Greta Van Fleet is disclosing for the first time publicly why her run with them came to an end…

Six scenes are laid out separately, taking place in six separate locations–one at a lakehouse in Michigan, two occurring in Tennessee—East Nashville, and Pigeon Forge—the fourth is a house in California, the fifth an office in Detroit, and, finally, a golf resort in Florida…

CONSTANCE LOBATTI (former manager): I worked closely with the band as they toured from 2017 to 2024. They were great fun to work with and had a very chaotic way about them, but they also tried to be respectful of management so they were easy to get along with. Well…the boys were pretty easy to get along with.

JOSH KISZKA (Vocals, Greta Van Fleet): Where’s my fucking camera? Oh, oh, yes I see now. I need to take these glasses off, anyway—I don’t want to come across too prestigious…is someone bringing me a beverage?

SAMUEL KISZKA (Bass, Greta Van Fleet): …So…we can say anything about each other, and nobody’s gonna sue for defamation? Can we confirm that?

DANIEL WAGNER (Drums, Greta Van Fleet): None of this screams “PR nightmare” at all.

JAKE KISZKA (Lead Guitar, Greta Van Fleet): This is kind of a loaded conversation to be having at 6:12 in the evening, isn’t it?

COLEY PAYNE (Rhythm Guitar, Greta Van Fleet): Whose idea was this, again?

[acknowledge-reigns]

Slumber Party | Naomi x Black!fem OC (SMUT) 18+!!!

Kinktober Day #6: Ass Worship

"I'm the Nelly in the party with some rocks for ears (so hot in here)

I'm a slave for you, baby, Ms. Britney Spears.

I'm a Clover, she a Toros, bring it on for cheers.

And I'm sexy like Christina when I dip it low

Not an H-town girl, but I rodeo

Yippee-ki-yay, welcome to the show

It's an all-girl party, clothing optional..." 🎶

Description: Naomi and Kira have a spicy girls night

Warnings: Pet names, Mommy kink, ass worship, rimming, praise, degradation, teasing, cunnilingus, mention of Daddy Kink (in reference to Jimmy Uso).

Face claim: Coco Jones

MDNI!! 18+ BELOW THE CUT

My masterlist can be found here and my kinktober schedule can be found here.

As always my fics are about Naomi, NOT Trinity Fatu

In this universe Jimmy, Naomi and Kira are in a Dom (Jimmy)/switch (Naomi)/sub (Kira) poly relationship. You find other stories featuring those three on my masterlist.

tag list - @mysticreigns2 @queeny23 @jeyusos-girl @notfancyrebelpaper @xbriexx @skyesthebomb @mzv11 @paigereeder @glitterywitchstarlight @v4mp-reads @hunnidmilly

Jimmy had left for the night for some bloodline related obligations, leaving Kira and Naomi alone in the house. The two had decided to have a sexy slumber party, They were both dressed in their pajamas, Naomi in a silky neon green nightgown and Kira in a skimpy tank top and shorts.

Naomi couldn't help but admire Kira's outfit, her eyes roaming over her body. "You look delicious, princess," she purred, running a finger down Kira's arm. "I can't wait to get started on our lil girls night"

Kira smiled coyly, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I'm ready for anything, Mommy," she said, her voice low and sultry. "What did you have in mind?"

Naomi chuckled, a sly grin spreading across her face. "Oh, you tryna have THAT kinda slumber party." She teased as if she didn't know that was the plan all along. "I want you to worship my ass," she said, her tone firm but playful.

Kira had jokingly expressed plenty of times how she's jealous everytime Naomi has a match and some lucky bitch ends up with a face full of ass.

Kira nodded eagerly, her eyes fixed on Naomi's backside. "Yes, Mommy," she replied, crawling over to Naomi and placing a gentle kiss on her ass cheek.

Kira continued to lavish attention on Naomi's ass, her tongue tracing the curve of her cheeks. She massaged and squeezed the supple flesh, worshiping it with every touch, thrilled to feel the glow.

Naomi let out a moan of pleasure,

"Oh, baby girl, you're so good at this," she gasped, her breath coming in short pants. "Don't stop. Keep worshiping me."

Kira obeyed, her tongue slowly tracing the puckered little hole. She licked and sucked, her tongue probing deeper with each pass. Naomi moaned louder, her body quivering with pleasure as Kira's face is buried in her ass. "That's it, princess," she panted. "Eat my ass like a good little slut."

Kira continued to devour Naomi's ass, her tongue swirling and thrusting in and out. She reached around to rub Naomi's clit, wanting to bring her even more pleasure.

Naomi gasped, her body trembling with ecstasy. "Oh gods, yes," she moaned, her hips rocking back and forth. "Keep rubbing my clit, princess. I'm so close. Make mommy cum and I might eat your pretty lil pussy."

Kira doubled her efforts, her tongue working furiously while her fingers circled Naomi's clit. Naomi's moans grew louder and more desperate, her body tensing as she neared the edge. "That's it, princess," she panted. "I'm gonna cum, baby.."

With a final cry, Naomi came hard, her body shuddering with pleasure. Kira eagerly lapped up her juices, savoring the taste. Naomi collapsed onto the sofa panting heavily. "Good girl," she said, looking back at Kira with a satisfied smile. "You did such a good job, princess. Now it's your turn."

Naomi pulled Kira over to the couch, her hands firm but gentle. "Lay back, princess," she said, her voice soft but commanding. "Spread your legs for mommy." Kira obeyed, her heart racing with anticipation. She spread her legs wide, revealing her wet and waiting pussy.

Naomi knelt down between Kira's legs, her eyes fixed on the prize. "You're so beautiful like this, princess," she murmured, running her hands up and down Kira's thighs. "I can't wait to taste you." She leaned in, her breath hot against Kira's skin.

Naomi began to kiss and nibble on Kira's inner thighs, working her way closer to her pussy. Kira whimpered with need, her body writhing beneath Naomi's touch. "Please," she begged. "Please touch me, mommy."

Naomi chuckled, her lips curving into a smirk. "Oh, you're so desperate, aren't you, princess?" she teased. "You want mommy to touch your needy little pussy so badly." She inched closer, her tongue flicking out to tease Kira's entrance.

Kira let out a whimper, her hips bucking upwards. "Yes, mommy, please," she pleaded. "I need your mouth on me. I need you to make me feel good." Naomi relented, finally giving Kira what she wanted. She pressed her mouth to Kira's pussy, her tongue delving deep inside.

Kira cried out in ecstasy, her body arching off the couch. Naomi's tongue moved expertly, licking and sucking at all the right spots. She used her fingers to tease Kira's clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

Naomi increased the pace, her tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring Kira closer and closer to the edge. "You taste so good, princess," she murmured, her voice muffled against Kira's pussy. "I could eat you all day long."

Kira was lost in a haze of pleasure, her moans and gasps growing louder with each passing moment. "I'm gonna cum," she gasped.

Naomi redoubled her efforts, her tongue and fingers working furiously to bring Kira to climax. "That's it, princess," she urged. "Cum for mommy. Let go."

With a cry of ecstasy, Kira finally reached her peak. Her body tensed, her back arching off the couch as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Naomi continued to lap at her pussy, helping her ride out the orgasm until she collapsed back onto the couch, spent and satisfied.

Naomi crawled up the couch, settling herself beside Kira. She gently stroked her hair, a satisfied smile on her face. "That was amazing, princess," she said. "You did so well for mommy."

Kira snuggled into Naomi's embrace, still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice soft and dreamy. "That was incredible."

"Daddy's gonna hate that he missed this." Kira giggled.

"Guess we'll have to make it up to him." Naomi laughed.

Naomi held Kira close, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. Now THAT is how you do a slumber party.

[vasyandii]

Slight call out post, You know who you are. I'm not here to fight or stupid shit like that, rather express my concerns.

Right, okay. This is gonna be a little yap/ rant sesh real quick, then we can go back to doing fun stuff? Cool? Cool.

It has come to my attention I need to put some boundaries in place in regards to people who seem to not know. I was originally going to keep this to myself because I AM NOT A CONFROTATIONAL PERSON (Mutuals dw you’re fine I love you with all my heart.)

Content warning for aggressive language.

I keep tabs on almost everyone who follows me, this is a precaution to make sure that certain people; Young kids, users who are listed under my DNI, etc. don’t interact with my content as much. This is for my comfort.

The last week or so, when I was doing the OC doodles, There has been a a user who has been… VERY ADAMANT on having their Character drawn. (Which is fine! I get that people are passionate about their ocs and want to see their characters in other peoples work, completely understandable!) PLEASE JUST DONT BE PUSHY ABOUT IT. I HAVE SCHOOL.

However, A NOT GOOD WAY to get an artist to draw you something is to partake in weird behavior?? Because it makes me extremely uncomfortable when people do this.

Like Chat am I tweaking or Is it weird when a blog suddenly switches ages in their bio by SEVEN YEARS? Are you my age or not? Because last time I checked, you were in your TWENTIES a day after you DM’d me. Then you were 19, then 18. Then poof, ageless blog. Please make it make sense.

Another thing, This is very stupid but I feel that as an Oc creator, I am protective of my ocs.

I know I'm not a popular blog, not even by a little. But I KNOW most Oc creators can understand this experience. (I Didn't even THINK this would happen to me, I thought I was lucky)

Her face paint is a pivotal and important part to her design. Am I saying "Ughh Nooo your oc can't have face paint because my oc has it nooo nyehnyehnyeh" ? No, thats baby shit.

I'm saying please don't copy my oc's design. Please. I get that drawing from inspo is part of an artist's creation process. However with this user's past behavior of being pushy, I feel I have a reason to be suspicious?

I worked my ass off writing, researching, designing, redesigning, redrafting her. That's almost 90+ hours of planning. It feels bad when suddenly there's one that pops up that looks hella similar to her, you get me?

People are gonna get on my ass for this, I'm not here for discourse, I'm just venting a little. My dms are always open, I'm old enough to admit that I'm wrong.

Using the tags to get this out there a little, Ik tumblr doesn't like that but it does refer to oc creation.

[dindjarindiaries]

The Rising Phoenix - Chapter One

series masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢

pairing ➵ din djarin x fem!oc rating ➵ mature (18+) tags ➵ enemies to lovers, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut, strong language, sexual references word count ➵ 3.847k chapter summary ➵ This year's team of Mandalorian recruits embark on their journey to Kyrbej, their home for the next brutal cycle.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢

CHAPTER ONE

I tie off my right boot and stand up, facing the reflection of myself in the long piece of reflective transparisteel. The leather of my training gear groans at the movements. I bite my cheek. That will take some getting used to.

Damn. I look disproportionate as hell with my beskar helmet and absolutely no other armor joining it. That will be another thing I’ll have to get used to.

Not that there will be any mirrors for me to see myself at Kyrbej. The training grounds on the other side of Concordia’s surface are known for their practicality, not any type of luxury. Certainly not anything more than what we already have in our stronghold. If I want to look at myself, I’ll have to bring my own shard of reflective transparisteel.

Given Linessa’s warnings about how the next cycle will go, though, I’m fairly sure I won’t want to look at myself, anyway.

I’m only able to heave one more breath before there’s a rapid knocking at my door. “Rhi! Hurry! You’re barely giving me any time to say goodbye!”

I swallow the sudden knot my twin sister’s words tie in my throat and pick up my rucksack. It’s heavy as hell, but given the fact I’ll be living out of it, I’m surprised it’s not even heavier. I slide my door open and Rowyn’s standing there, her emerald helmet adorned with gold embellishments flashing in my gaze as she lunges forward to wrap her arms tight around me.

The rucksack falls to the floor as I hug her back. For the first time since we were younglings, our paths are diverging. It’s the Way, as Mom has reminded me so many times before, as the Ancestors have called us each to our own unique paths.

“I’ll see you soon.” I say the words to Rowyn with confidence, even if there’s a wide-open chasm of uncertainty in my chest. I’ve been preparing for this for years, ever since I slid this beskar over my head. My hand cups the back of her helmet. “You better have a full suit ready for me when I get back.”

Rowyn manages a short laugh at that. “First of all, I’m not in charge of giving you armor.” She pulls away and holds my own emerald helmet between her hands, though I can see the white accents I added to each curve of the beskar reflected in her visor. “Second of all, I’m gonna need more than a cycle to learn how to make a full fucking suit.”

I laugh with her. Our helmets touch, silence sitting between us, before I step away and hold her hands in mine. “Tell the Armorer to go easy on you." I squeeze her hands. “I know how easily you blister.”

“I could say the very same about you.” Rowyn’s thumb runs over my palm. “But I think I’ll have it easier over here than you will over there.”

I scoff. “Have you met the Armorer?”

Rowyn can’t laugh this time. I don’t need to see her face to identify her concern. After years without seeing a single person’s face, it’s easy to spot emotions in other ways, especially the people I know best. “Just be careful, Rhi.”

“I will.” I give her hands another squeeze. “You’ve seen how well I can kick ass.”

Rowyn’s helmet tilts, her substitution for a smile. “Yeah, that makes me feel better.”

I chuckle and sigh, going in for one last hug. “I’m gonna miss you so fucking much, Row.”

“I’ll miss you too, Rhi.”

“Rhiane,” Mom’s voice calls for me further down the corridor. “It’s time to get going.”

Rowyn and I step away from each other at the same time. I pick up my rucksack and nod at her, taking in the last of my twin sister before I turn and start to walk towards Mom. Rowyn, however, adds one more thing over my shoulder. “And Rhiane!”

I whip my helmet around. Rowyn jogs to get closer to me, lowering her modulated voice so only I can hear.

“Kick Din Djarin’s ass for me.”

I huff at that, as much as the sound of his name alone sets my chest aflame with deeply planted bitterness. “Easy.”

“Rhiane.” Mom’s voice is more stern now. I wince and turn to face her again, her battle-worn emerald suit of armor serving as a warning rather than an inspiration right now. “Let’s go.”

I look at my boots as I follow her out of the part of the stronghold I’ve called home for twenty-two cycles, now. Hopefully, Dad’s waiting outside, or else I won’t have a chance to say goodbye. There’s no way Mom’s going to let me back inside, and I can’t blame her. The last thing I’d want to do is either hold up the whole group of this cycle’s recruits or have to run like hell to catch up to them.

The maze of the stronghold soon gives way to Concordia’s swirling atmosphere, and as I look up, I can see the distant image of Mandalore. The familiar ache of curiosity and nostalgia I have no need for hits at the sight of our people’s homeworld. I wonder if earning my place as a warrior will ever grant me permission to visit our history there. Even Mom and Dad seem to miss it after running a few missions there when I was little.

Speaking of Dad, he stands with the other parents of my fellow recruits, who will see us off as we head to Kyrbej. There are less parents here than there are recruits, even if there aren’t that many of us. I push the unnecessary observation away and focus on the last goodbyes I have to make.

“You’re late, Rhiane,” Dad greets me, his gloved hand tapping the side of his helmet—and no doubt powering down the chrono within his visor.

Mom offers him the answer. “Rowyn.”

Dad nods in understanding. He approaches me and sets a strong hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been waiting a long time for this day, verd’ika.” I smile to myself at the nickname. I’ve had it ever since I tried to force Rowyn into wrestling matches when we were kids. “I know you’ll make us proud.”

“Thank you.” I nod, maintaining my composure and respect in light of the fellow Mandalorians who surround us.

“The Fighting Corps isn’t ready for you.” Mom speaks up next. She presses her hand against the back of my emerald helmet to make it meet her own. “But you are damn sure ready for it.”

My eyes start to sting, my nose prickling and my throat tied up in a spikey knot. Shit. I told myself I wouldn’t get emotional, even if my beskar could hide it—but I hadn’t expected my parents to show me anything more than tough-love in front of others. “Thank you.” I force the words through my tightened throat.

“The cycle will be over before you know it.” Dad steps towards me when Mom gives him room to, his helmet also meeting my own. “You’ll be a full-fledged warrior next time we see you.”

“Just a full-fledged recruit, Dad.” I manage to maintain my usual smartass tone even amidst my emotional struggle. Dad huffs and steps away. I look between my parents and lower my helmet in love and respect. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.” Their comforting voices are a chorus that wrap around me like a sweet embrace as I force myself to turn my back on them. I join the group of recruits and get in formation, falling into the empty space in the two-by-two line that’s been saved for me.

“It’s about time your ass turned up.” The recruit at my side’s tone is full of nothing but amusement as she tilts her purple helmet at me. “I was starting to think you were having second thoughts.”

I shoved my shoulder against hers. “Fuck off, Sahra.” I tilt my helmet back at her. “As if I’d be the one between us to stay behind.”

I could almost feel the hot waves of Sahra’s embarrassment warming my black leathers. “That’s different. Since Thiio’s due for his training next year—.”

“—You’ll be spending two cycles apart, not just one. I know.” I find her hand and give it a squeeze. “But this will be good for you two. You’ve been inseparable ever since they moved his family’s wing closer to yours.”

“And?” Sahra’s curt response is almost a challenge.

“Selfishly, it gives me more alone time with you.” I let her hand go and shrug. “Plus, who knows. Maybe training will bring out something new in someone that you’ll like.” I gesture with my  helmet to the path we’re about to take. “There’s gonna be a lot of extra adrenaline we have to take care of out there.”

“Fair point.” Sahra becomes more amused again as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And who exactly do you think you’ll be choosing for that task?”

I shrug again. “I’ll have to wait and see.” I spot a familiar shine diagonally across from my position, about four rows of recruits ahead. “I do know who I won’t be choosing, though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” My visor snaps over to Sahra. She dramatically fires my own words back at me. “Maybe training will bring out something new in someone that you’ll like.”

“Fuck no.” I find the silver helmet again, the only one in this entire group that hasn’t been painted, and tighten my jaw. “That doesn’t apply to him.”

“Really, Rhiane?” Sahra is using the tone of voice that makes it hard to tell if she’s being serious or not. “I always thought you two would be a power—.”

I shove my elbow hard enough into her ribs to make her lose her breath for a moment.

“Damn, fine then. Comm received.” Sahra rubs her hand over her ribs. “No more jokes about Djarin.”

The sound of his name causes his silver helmet to turn over his shoulder. I don’t let my visor stray from his, instead challenging him to look away first. My hands curl into fists at my sides and I wish I could swing them in his direction. I’ve already sparred with him enough times to know, though, that I won’t win—but neither will he.

The question now, then, is who’s going to win this staring contest of ours.

“Recruits!” A booming voice announces from the front of the group.

Another draw it is. We look away from each other at the same time, focusing our attention to the black-armored Mandalorian ahead of us. Captain Hosnan has been running the Fighting Corps’ training for cycles, even before more than half our ranks abandoned the Way during the Clone Wars.

“You’ve been training for cycles to see this moment. You’re now mere minutes away from embarking on this journey, a Mandalorian tradition that’s been in place for thousands of years.”

My stomach twists with nerves I’m not used to having. The historical weight of this training isn’t lost on me, especially when I remember who my ancestors are. Settling for anything less than the goal I’ve made for myself in my mind is unacceptable.

“You’ve sworn the Creed. You’ve earned your most valuable piece of armor: your helmets.” 

Each one of our helmets is unique in some way, all adorned with special colors and embellishments—except for Din’s. For some reason, it makes my blood boil even more.

“Now, you will go on to earn each piece of your full suit of armor with each challenge you undertake. It won’t be easy, but the generations before you have proven it can be done. I’m the first captain to have no deaths reported at Kyrbej in three-hundred years, so don’t be my first.”

I swallow hard. No pressure.

“But don’t be mistaken. This isn’t because I’m softer than the other captains.” Captain Hosnan crosses his arms over his cuirass. “It’s because I’m tougher, and that toughness yields results. So, if any one of you feels you’re not up for the challenge, do us all a favor and walk away now while you can. As for the rest of you…”

Captain Hosnan lowers his arms to lift his fist to the center of his cuirass, right over the kar’ta. 

“Welcome to the Fighting Corps.” He lowers his helmet. “This is the Way.”

We all mirror his gesture, crossing our right arms over our chests and lowering our helmets. “This is the Way.”

The family members beside us are the last to say the phrase. “This is the Way.”

Captain Hosnan turns and begins to walk forward, and our group of recruits follows in obedient formation. I pull the straps of my rucksack higher on my shoulders and give Sahra a look. “Are you ready, Private Auren?”

Sahra tilts her helmet at me. “As ready as I’ll ever be, Private Voss.”

▼▲▼

As it turns out, the hardest part of our cycle at Kyrbej is fucking walking there.

After endless hours of non-stop travel across this desolate moon we call home, Captain Hosnan has finally allowed us to make camp. We don’t have the supplies to pitch tents, so we settle for various alcoves in the nearby rock structures that have defined Concordia ever since it was settled—or, at least, mined.

My feet are throbbing and my legs nearly give out when I sit down beside Sahra at our makeshift fire, but at least this walk is breaking in my boots. I chew on the ration pack Rowyn helped me acquire from the kitchen of our wing, sliding the material in the gap between the lip of my helmet and my skin. There’s no chance I’m gonna be able to hunt something out here.

The recruits are scattered throughout the alcove in their small friend groups, the ones made long before Kyrbej was even on the horizon. I’m well aware these groups will be drastically different by the time we all complete our training, and not just because of Linessa’s warning. It’s common sense. The shit we’re about to go through this cycle changes people from the inside-out.

“I’ll be right back,” Sahra speaks up into our comfortable silence. She stands and brushes the dirt of the alcove off her leathers. “I’ll let you know if I find a decent corner of privacy for relieving ourselves.”

I snort with amusement and watch her as she strides away. I’m not on my own for long, though, as another person soon comes to take her place. I don’t bother fighting the snarl underneath my  helmet or the roll of my eyes behind my visor.

“Voss.” Din’s modulated tone is curt as he stands over me.

“Djarin.” I all but bite his name out.

His arms cross over his chest. His broad chest. Shit, does that tiny detail really matter? “You seem tired.”

I scoff. “What a fucking compliment.” I sit up more and tilt my helmet. “Are you not exhausted from walking for at least six hours straight?” When he starts to reply, I hold up my hand. “Wait, let me guess. You’ve somehow been training for this specific part along with everything else.”

Din tilts his helmet back at me. “You’re catching on.”

Frustration pumps through my veins like hot, molten lava. “Well, what the hell do you want? Or did you just come over here to be an asshole?”

Din doesn’t waver at my hurled insults. “You tell me. Your friend was the one who said my name earlier.”

I narrow my eyes at him and hope he can somehow see their wrath behind my visor, even if it breaks the Creed. “Can’t live with the fact your name’s said in conversations you’re not a part of, Djarin?” I let out an amused huff. “Because I hate to tell you, people are allowed to say your name when you’re not around.”

“I would’ve been content to leave you to it.” Din shifts his weight to one hip. “But you were looking at me, so… naturally, I assumed you had something to say.”

“Nope.” I’m suddenly grateful for the Creed again that keeps my warm, embarrassed face from Din’s line of vision. Ancestors, forgive me. “Consider it a mistake.”

Din’s helmet straightens. “Let me give you some advice.” He gestures with his helmet to the view of Concordia outside the alcove. “There’s no room for mistakes at Kyrbej. Even one could move you down the ranks, and fast. My advice, then?” He drops his arms back to his sides, conveying his severity. “Don’t let it happen again.”

My anger becomes so volatile that I’m relieved I don’t have a metal suit of armor covering me. It would just melt into my skin. “So now you’re giving me orders?” I shake my helmet. “Hell no. And you say that as if I don’t already know.” My anger unties a cruel knot within my throat and unleashes its full wrath. “Unlike you, I have a fucking legacy to maintain.”

Din stiffens, but it only lasts for a moment. His hands curl into fists at his sides, but it’s not an unusual action for him. “Good.” He nods at me, having the audacity to remain civil after my harsh bite—and making me feel like the asshole here. “I expect it won’t happen again, then.”

He turns his back before he can see my middle finger extended up at him. I curse under my breath and wrap my arms around myself for more warmth, glancing at the unfinished ration pack on my lap. I’ve lost my appetite, and I could use the rest for breakfast, anyway.

No. I am not letting this man make me eat myself alive because he was the one who approached me in the first place. He’s trying to get to me mentally, since he can’t beat me physically. I won’t let him win.

Sahra returns and sits even closer to my side than she had before. “Damn, what did I miss?” Her visor gives me a once-over. “You’re tenser than a lariat.” She points at my unfinished ration. “And I expected that to be crumbs by now.”

“What do you think happened?” My visor’s glaring in Din’s direction, even though he’s become lost within the fray of recruits. I find his silver helmet amidst a group of other foundling recruits. He’s the biggest of them all.

“You mean, who do I think happened?” Sahra huffs. “It’s not really a question.”

“He was an asshole for coming over here, and then he made me be an asshole back.”

Sahra tilts her helmet at me. “He ‘made’ you?”

I finally turn to face her. “He wanted to know why you said his name earlier, before we left.”

I hate the way I can practically see Sahra’s purple helmet grow brighter, as if the fire suddenly got more powerful. “Yeah? And what did he have to say about my brilliant joke?”

“Your brilliantly fucking stupid joke? Yeah, he doesn’t know about it.” I huff in indignation. “He just threatened me not to make the ‘mistake’ of using his name without telling him about it again.”

Sahra’s shoulders tense at that. “What the hell?”

“Exactly.” I rest even further against the smooth slab of stone supporting me.

“So, how exactly were you an asshole in this context?”

I cringe, squeezing my eyes tight behind my visor in embarrassment. “Don’t judge me.” The only person who knows the Creed better than me is Din himself. The man’s a stickler for the rules and customs of our people. The foundlings are the future.

“Let me guess.” Sahra’s fingers tap over her thigh in unnecessary concentration. I already know she’s going to get it right on the first try. “You made a jab about him being a foundling?”

I palm my helmet with one of my hands. “Why am I such an ass about that sometimes, Sahra?” I shake my head.

“It’s the only leverage you have on him.” Sahra shrugs and pokes at the fire to keep it burning. “He’s not the most open about his life before his rescue, and he’s definitely not the type to tell anyone how he feels about it—or anything else.”

I stare at the fire. “That doesn’t make it right. He just…” I clench my hands into tight fists, “shit, he makes me so damn angry sometimes.”

“It may not be right, but it’s understandable.” Sahra nods at me. “You were predicted to be the top of our cycle from a young fucking age. Then Djarin just comes in, and… well, he’s the only one who can threaten that.”

I exhale deeply and close my eyes, feeling the weight of this day and situation upon me. “I don’t want to think about that day anymore.”

Sahra’s hand gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I understand.” I hear her shuffling around as she leans back next to me. “Get some rest. I have a feeling Hosnan’s gonna have us up and at ‘em as early as possible.”

Sahra’s right. It feels like I’ve been asleep for all of five minutes when the sound of beskar-on-beskar rings throughout the alcove.

The rest of the recruits and I jolt awake, looking to see Captain Hosnan with his gauntlets crossed over each other. “Morning, recruits! You have five minutes to fully put out your fires, pack your rucksacks, and relieve yourselves before we continue on!”

I groan and let my helmet hit the stone behind me for a moment. We’re not even at Kyrbej yet, and I already understand why I’ve trained like hell for this cycle.

But we will be getting to Kyrbej today, and that excitement alone is what gets me moving faster than anything else.

Once we’re all back on our feet and in our two-by-two formation, Captain Hosnan continues on our path to Kyrbej. Sahra’s quick to notice the sudden hop in my step. “What’s got you so excited to walk another six hours straight?”

I shoot her an incredulous look. “Kyrbej.”

“Right.” Sahra’s visor rises to the swirling sky for a moment. “I almost forgot the destination.”

“I’ve only been training my whole life for it.” I smile to myself, experience my first true wave of joy since leaving the stronghold. “Plus, I’ll finally get to see Linessa.”

Sahra’s helmet snaps back towards me. “Oh, shit, that’s right. She was team leader last year.”

“Damn right she was.” I tilt my helmet towards her. “She’s a Vizsla, after all.”

Sahra snorts. “If Paz was my older brother, I’d work my ass off to be team leader, too.” She gives me a knowing look. “But I’m not even gonna try when I know who it’s going to.”

I bite my cheek. “You don’t know that.”

“By the Ancestors, Rhiane, don’t lose your confidence already.” Sahra nudges my arm. “Your jab at Djarin may have been brutal, but it’s true. Even if he could possibly manage to beat you out in skill, when was the last time they made someone who’s not tied to a clan or a house a fucking team leader?”

My jaw remains wired shut. She’s right. The revelation floods relief through me. “Fair point. I’ll give you that.”

I don’t have another option; I have to believe her. Failing to become team leader isn’t an option. I won’t be able to face Dad, Mom, or even Rowyn if I don’t earn the title.

The hours go by surprisingly quickly, either because of the haziness of my exhaustion or because of the verbal games Sahra and I play to keep ourselves entertained. That haze, however, is quickly replaced by shocking clarity as the adrenaline kicks in at the sight on the horizon.

The unmistakable pillars of Kyrbej frame a tight group of Mandalorian warriors, those who will be serving as our officers, leaders, and teachers for the next cycle. I’m already searching for Linessa’s telltale blue helmet, but as much as I love the woman who’s like another sister to me, she’s not the only reason why my heart is racing with excitement.

After cycles and cycles of waiting, I’m finally at Kyrbej. I’m finally facing my long-awaited destiny. Not even my doubts about Djarin or team leader can quell my pure anticipation.

I don’t have to be Force-sensitive to know that I—and Kyrbej itself—won’t ever be the same after this moment.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢

series masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

[burgycreeper405-blog]

hello there

welcome to the pinned post

here we have the list of everything you wantes to know about the me myself and i

Commissions: open (dm me if interested)

here is my commissions sheet if you're interested in commissioning me

Art Trades: closed

Art Request: open 4 now

tho the rules are:

the art requests are mostly just gonna be in sketches, if you want fully detailed art, you can commission me if you want/nf

if you want a request, please state that you want a art request,, bcuz if not,, look I'm dumb okay? just be more specific please (and if you can, please include a prompt and not just a character/ship)

would like these kind of reqs or these kinds of reqs tho/nf

no ocs (sorry)

aus are fine (tho pls send a reference 👍)

only the franchise im interested in (the list is down the below)

btw, im just into ii and tdos, not all of object shows 👍

any ship in any franchise I'm in is fine as long as i'm not uncomfortable with it and it's not the ones listed there in the dni list

okay, small update. do not send me ship reqs that includes taco (i am fine with taco x blueberry, (or this wild polycule lol) and or tacopadlet, tho im 50/50 about it rn. max has still yet to convince me adsklgj

there might be more to be added in the future but yeah 👍

down the below also has the everythin you need or just want to know so you better check it 👍

but before you do

this is for my and yours' comfort if you somehow have one or two or all of these

DNI If you:

- ship tac0m1c

- ship kn1fan (on thin ice)

- hc knife and mic as siblings

- hc baseball and suitcase as father-daughter???? / infantalize suitcase

the basic DNI stuffs; Racist, being mean to people and tells them to "kys" or other mean things, etc. etc.

aight, now that you's done reading the dni list, time for the other chet

it's kinda simple and also kinda messy so bare with me here

you can call me Burgy and i is girl, but any pronouns is fine

my other socials are:

Instagram (@/burgycreeper405)

Youtube (@/burgycreeper405)

and no i don't have twitter, i used to, but no, twitter is like my toxic ex, so if you see me "post" on twitter, that's not me, that's probably a person acting as me but failed miserably

i have a dicsord server if you wanna join

the app i use to draw is Medibang Paint / Manga (the site lol) / Ibispaint on the ipad

to animate, i use Flipaclip on my phone

I am not in any fandoms cuz i am very ✨random✨

but draws one topic for a long while, but as time goes on, i go back to drawing random chet that i like and not just one thing

here are the lists of what I'm interested in (aka the things that I'll draw from most to least maybe)

• Team Fortress 2

• The Daily Object Show (TDOS)

• FOP A New Wish

• Inanimate Insanity (II)

• The Lego Movie

• Trolls

• Super Mario

• Undertale

• Cuphead

• Batim

i have more stuffs that i like but those 8 are the main, and I don't even really draw the other ones that much, but i like em, but i ain't telling em,, so yeah :P

i have a fun little ask blog for my AUs and stuff (tho it's just Lego movie aus) so if you're interested, it's this

@ask-burgys-aus

now that the simple stuff is done,,

it's time for the '🍩'(do not)s and other infos

• do not repost or reupload my stuff like put it in compilations and stuff, even if you credit me, do not repost/reupload my chet

• do not trace my art

• if i seem rude, that means i’m in a bad mood

• you can use my art as pfp or banners, just do not reupload/repost and or trace my stuffs

• if you dm-ed me/private message me, i won't answer it, especially if we're not even that close (unless it's for commissions then i will answer that lol) cuz either I'm awkward at starting conversations, or i just don't want to dm back, it's one of the two but it's mostly the former

• if you have questions, ask it in the ask box, it's there for a reason

• if you want to do fanart, then go ahead, no need to ask, just tag me, id love to see it

• keep in mind, i mostly have headcanons that are not the same as the popular ones cuz, not everyone will have the same hcs, shocker i know

• i don't do with popular chet so keep that in mind

• i hate shipping discourse cuz i find that stupid and a waste of time, especially when the ship they're fighting is not even that problematic as they say they are, so get that away from me cuz i don't want to deal with it

• i don't mind any ships (besides the ones on the red down below), I'm neutral with mostly any ships (again, besides the ones on the red down below), unless it's actually problematic like those age gaps and other chet? then that's a big no no for me, get that thing out of here, i don't want it

let's cut to the chase, yes, I'm fine with:

Rexmet (Rex x Emmet)

Rexmetstyle (Rex x Emmet x Lucy)

and i also ship

Microknife (Mic x Knife)

Knicropick (Knife x Mic x Pickle)

Metallic Salad (Mephone4 x Knife x Mic x Pickle)

if those info shocked you, then that's funny lol

if you suddenly hate me bcuz of that, then that's honestly a funny and stupid reason to hate me lol

tags that i use:

#burgy talks - just talking and or rambling about stuffs

#burg art - for art

#burgy comics - for the comics that i did cuz why not

#burgy games - for me gaming

#burgy sh1tpost - yes, it's a 1, not a misstype,, anyways, thats for jokes stuffs so i wont flood the burgy talks or art tag that much

me personas (i don't have a good ref sheet for them three)

me but object

sun micro4 content

aight, i think thas all, some of these may or may not change in the future

but yeah, thas all, thanks for reading

[emma-is-swaggy-and-epic]

DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS THE 3RD TIME I'M FUCKING UPLOADED THIS PIECE OF SHIT BECAUSE TUMBLR KEEPS FUCKING UP MY IMAGE LAYOUT WHENEVER I POST IT SO IF THIS SHIT DOES THAT AGAIN I'M NOT GONNA FUCKING FIX IT BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO EMBED ALL THE LINKS TO THE BASES I USED AND WRITE DOWN ALL THE TAGS ALL OVER AGAIN

X / X / X / X / X / X

Ngl it was relatively easy to think of pony names for these characters since i've had the idea to make this for a while so i've had a lot of time to think about it lol

For yuriko: i chose the name "flawless lace" because in her regular form, i specifically chose the name "yuriko" for her because it means "perfect" so i wanted to try and include that aspect into her pony name. Some considered names for her were "perfect storm" and "lily lace" since the "yuri" part of her name means "lily" (though i decided against it bc i remembered that's the name of an actual pony in MLP...) the markings on her legs are meant to sorta mirror the stockings she wears in her usual form

For sprite: i chose the name "baby carrot" simply because that was a actual name i considered for her normal form before i decided on "sprite" (which is kinda funny since a big part of sprite's character is that she likes apples.....a food that is basically as different from carrots as it can get) she is a goat-alicorn hybrid because she's normally a deltarune OC, specifically a fankid of kris and ralsei; with the latter being a prince from the dark who is also a goat monster

For carrie: a big part of her backstory is that she named herself, she's literally a carrot that decided to be human one day (...or pony, in this case) and is trying to fit into civilsation as best she can; so i tried to give them a pony name that sorta fits that, and so i named them "carrot mulch" because i could totally imagine her trying to introduce themself to someone and doing that one trope in movies where the main character doesn't want to share their real name and just looks around the room for things to call themself lol. I also decided to make her a blank-flank since she probably hasn't spent that long a time as a pony and therefore wouldn't have a cutie mark despite appearing fully grown

For makeighlyn i feel like my choices are pretty straight forward, the character is a girls' flash game mascot created by a christian fundamentalist cult who somehow escaped into the real world and now works as a demon slayer so i decided to give her a name and cutie mark that reflects that. The only thing that i feel is worth mentioning is that i find it interest how the amount of pink in her design makes the blue in her hair look a lot darker...either that or i might've accidentally hue-shifted it or something

Choese is another pretty straightforward one, he's a flirty cheese-themed mouseboy so i gave him a heart-shaped cheese cutie mark and named him "gouda squeaks" because he's a fucking rodent. (Sidenote: i love smoked gouda so goddamn much omg)

Lastly for crystalline i decided to make her a breezie since she's normally a fairy and y'know....breezies are just the MLP equivalent to fairies....i also decided to name her "fee-fee breezie" since breezies usually have really cutesy names in the show (some of them straight up have references to their species in their names), the "fee-fee" part of her name is short for "feelings" since crystalline is an emotion fairy

Y'know when i first created crystalline back when i was like, 10 i was going through a phase where i just VIOLENTLY hated things for no reason (specifically things from MLP such as the vampire fruit bats, flurry heart and the manta hawk from the IDW comics) to the point that i would make them out of polymer clay JUST so i can make my pony toys kill them (i was a weird kid, needless to say) one of these things being the breezies....so ngl i feel like the fact that i made crystalline a breezie is really fucking ironic lol

[vanmarkham]

oc in 15

tagged by @foxboyclit, ty :3 this looks fun, i'm always trying to work on voice so this is relevant lol

Rules: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

sooo I kinda wanna do multiple ocs so I'm gonna do a few lines for multiple ocs!

Gideon Trevelyan

“Fine. I go to the Chantry on Tuesday evenings, but I’m free after. You can help me then.” He moves to leave but stops himself. “Don’t bring Jowan.”

“I’m not afraid!” He is, he’s terrified. It would be slightly more convincing if he wasn’t breathing like he’d just run a race. “I just- I want it gone. I want it gone. I’m so confused. I don’t know what to think, so many different… voices in my head saying opposite things.” “If I lived in a grand estate in Amaranthine, I’d at least have silk sheets.” Gideon grins, nudging him with a shoulder. “Oh and a thick Antivan carpet and fennec furs.” He adds dreamily. He looks back at Rodaine. “I bet I can picture your room clearly. Immaculate and barren and austere and full of books.”

Grant Hawke this one was hard, i haven't written enough of him interacting with friends lmao, i promise he is not a hardass all the time

“You shouldn’t have run up to them like that.” Hawke reprimands. “What were you bloody thinking? I could have handled it.” "I'm not losing any more money and I'm not losing the shirt off my back. What does that leave me?" “I have questions about your maps, Warden.”

Valztefein Rilynval

“Got you this warm room and all and you’re whining. Don’t I deserve some attention, Elkantar?” “This is what we’re calling a best man these days? Surely I’ve already bested him and I haven’t even drawn my blade?” “This is true. You are weak. Far weaker than any cleric of Lolth should be.” “It seems our dear fresh-faced fighter has lost his tongue.” He presses his heel further into his gut. “Louder.”

Cyril Lodovka

Cyril smiles, rising again to his full height. “I have prepared the entertainment tonight, my dear. I have something for you… a gift, of sorts. That is, if you wish to see it.” Cyril chuckles, smiling into his own glass. “You may send him into a conniption. Throw in some reference to bacchanal blood-drinking feasts and the fashionability of the Undead and even the chirurgeons will struggle to mend him.” "I will endeavor to compliment you less until you can properly receive my attentions," Cyril teases. “I can make something that may relieve it a little. Help you rest. Unless you’d prefer your method of suffering in silence?” “Apologies. I did not mean to condescend. It is simply… charming, and I am not one to speak, my instructors abhorred reading my assignments.”

i tag @transprincecaspian @sinquisition @ysali @idolsgf

[rosewood-multifandom-writer]

My Rules with Fanfics and Headcanons + Blocklist Reasons:

Before I forget, I don’t write for Mortal Kombat anymore. I lost all interest a long time ago. Plus looking back at my main blog during the Mortal Kombat phase makes me want to cringe into a wadded ball of paper every time someone leaves a like on one of my old posts or reblogs. Oh and if you want to request something, do it in the notes. It may sound strange, but it’s because of yet another stupid bug on Tumblr where I can open my inbox up on my main blog but for some reason not on here. It just kept telling me, “it needs to be 26 characters long” and whatever, so until the bug is fixed (which will probably be never lol), we’re gonna have to make requests via the notes or if you don’t want to do that my DMs are always open.

As of right now, requests are open, just keep in mind that I’m slow and I procrastinate, lol.

And also, this is EXTREMELY important: because from what I heard from Tumblr being Tumblr… if I cannot use tags related to any TWs/CWs, it’ll be in a “Content Warning” note. Example: Content Warning(s): CNC

Finally, kiddos, go play Nintendo or something. This is a blog made by an adult for adults. That is also going to be a recurring tag for any explicit fics I make or reblog.

General:

I do NOT do the following: Incest, Rape (closest you’ll get is a reference or implied rape, which WILL NOT be between the ship or CNC), Underage (as in Underage x Adult or Underage Characters having sex on screen), Mutilation during sex, golden showers, feces, spitting in mouth (or spitting in face), cheating (ick), sounding (it looks painful to me), period sex, feet, cervix fucking (as a woman this makes me cringe super hard), oviposition (keep your eggs to yourself and not inside someone’s holes, thank you), High School AU, having sex while pregnant (I got no problems writing about pregnancy or pregnant characters but that’s where I draw the line) and more will added/removed.

I do male x male, female x female, and male x female ships.

I write for male, female and gender neutral readers. I do NOT write for a specifically detailed reader such as short reader, Black reader, Latino reader, Asian reader, White reader, fat reader, tall reader, skinny reader, reader with big boobs, reader with small boobs, etc, etc. it defeats the entire point of a reader insert in my opinion. At THAT point… it’s now just an OC.

Speaking of OCs, when I do Canon x OC, I mainly do my own, so those will be tagged as such when you go into character tags.

I’m also thinking of doing text message AU type things because I’ve been reading them a lot in the JJK Fandom (all of you make such REALLY good ones, I swear to god), just keep in mind I’m a special type of lazy, and will just write it like a typical fanfiction or series of headcanons.

I will always have a trigger warning in the notes and in the tags similar to how I would use the “Non-Con” archive warning on A03, whenever I write CNC, so if that is not your cup of tea or it is very triggering for you to read, filter out tags (I’m gonna have tags titled “CNC” and “consensual non-consent” like this to make it easier), block me if you want to, just remember to stay in your lane when it comes to content like this. In fact, keep a very close eye out on this emoji: “⚠️” next to the title on these types of fics and any other fanfics that deal with serious subjects.

I hate that this needs to be said now, but when I write things like CNC, it’s purely fantasy, I do NOT condone any of the stuff I write. It is NOT an encouragement to do any of the stuff I write in real life. If anyone thinks that this is an encouragement to harm actual real people, then that is a completely different story. It’s like blaming Shooter games for real life mass shootings. This is gonna be the one and ONLY time I say this.

Devil May Cry Specific:

Obviously, no Spardacest, it’s weird. No smut involving DMC4 Nero or DMC4 Kyrie that is also weird.

I don’t ship Trish with any of the Sparda bloodline.

I don’t ship Vergil with Lady. I don’t write anything with Reboot Vergil because I hate him.

I also don’t write the Sparda twins sharing the same partner because in my opinion that’s on the same level as Spardacest plus the idea of dating two siblings (or literally any family members period) simultaneously makes me go, “bleh…”

No, I’m not gonna write anything about Nero x Kyrie, those two are canonically adopted brother and sister, and them being boyfriend and girlfriend is super weird. When I write Nero x Reader for instance, Reader is taking Kyrie’s role as the love interest, and Kyrie will be depicted as being Nero’s sister (maybe even having her date Nico instead).

Resident Evil Specific:

I write mainly for Leon, Carlos, Chris, Piers, Buddy (underrated king), Jill, Claire, Rebecca, Helena, Jake, Sherry (obviously canonically adult Sherry if it’s smut involving her) Wesker, Ada, and more will be added or removed soon.

I don’t ship Wesker with anyone except Ada Wong and William Birkin. I also don’t write for Aeon, because I prefer looking at artwork of them rather than writing about them or reading about them, if that makes sense. My main ships are Chreon, Leon x Ashley, JilLeon (Not enough content of them tbh), Jill x Claire, Jake Muller x Sherry Birkin, Kennechenko, Metaltango, and more will be added or removed soon.

Street Fighter Specific:

I write for Ed, Luke, Rashid, Chun-Li, Cammy, Elena (come home faster baby girl), Falke, Poison, Ken (there’s gonna be special rules with him), Ryu, Juri Han, and A.K.I. More will be added or removed soon.

When I write Ken x Reader, I have Reader be Ken’s spouse in place of Eliza, so don’t worry, he’s not being a man hoe while married, he’s gonna be married to reader instead whenever I write any romantic or sexy situation with them. This rule applies to any canonically married character I may become interested in.

Also when I write A.K.I, I am NOT going to ship her with Fang Fei. I know it’s canon that she simps for him, but that’s literally her adopted father and her master, so it’s a “nope” from me.

The Evil Within Specific:

Call me crazy, Ruvik and Stefano are my slasher villain fantasies just like how any girl thirsts for Ghostface. So… when I write sex scenes with them and Reader, always expect hardcore sex acts.

Detroit become Human Specific:

Here, on both my main blog and this blog, Hankcon and Reed900 requests are equally welcomed with open arms. No ship bashing!

I’m not writing anything for Leo Manfred or Todd because screw them.

A lot more things will be added to the future.

All of these rules apply to my A03 too.

My Reasons for blacklisting/blocking someone:

Keep ALL of this in mind and then you’ll know why certain people are blocked.

If you’re rude. No need to explain this any further. You only get to be rude to me once and only once. Cross the line with me, you get blocked.

If you harassed/bullied/threatened someone. I label myself as anti-harassment, and I don’t want that energy anywhere near this blog. Do not act shocked that you got blocked after you threatened me, my followers or someone else.

If you are pro-censorship. Alongside anti-harassment, I’m anti-censorship. We already deal with corpos censoring movies and shows we like, we ain’t dealing with that here.

Being bigoted in general. Again, I don’t need to explain this further. And also, how are you here, on Tumblr being bigoted???

You’re under 18. Yet another explanation that does not need more explanation. The A03 link in my bio has adult content contained in it. The content I make on this blog is adult content. You should not be here. That is why you are blocked/were blocked.

[runningfrom2am]

the sea around us; chapter twenty-four

In which Rafe Cameron has to choose between his dad and a pogue who's changing his outlook on life more and more every day.

(rafe cameron x f!oc)

(eventual!jj maybank x f!oc)

warnings/tags: violence, drug/alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (if you squint), slowburn, older brother’s best friend, (these tags are obv not exhaustive but regardless it’s pretty PG13)

wc: 2.3k

my masterlist

series masterlist

requests

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

John B and I run into the woods together, with no real plan on where to go now that we just saw what we did. Rafe was going to shoot her. Ward did shoot her. Where do we even go from here?

We run out into a street, not even looking at our surroundings. I'm assuming John B has the same tunnel vision I do right now, because we immediately get hit by a car. We both fly up over the hood, onto either side of the car. Once I hit the ground is when I feel the pain, though. My ankle feels like it's on fire. I try to get up as the man driving opens his door. "John B!" I shout as the man helps me up.

"Are you okay? Whose blood is that?" He asks and I look down, noticing I'm almost entirely covered in Sheriff Peterkin's blood just as John B grabs me from him.

"Snowy? We gotta go- we gotta go." John B says, and I scream at the pain in my foot as I try to take a step with him.

"We're fine, sir." John B says, wrapping his arm around my waist and helping me walk into the woods on the other side of the street as fast as we can.

"I know- I know, you're okay. You're gonna be fine." John B rambles to me as the man continues shouting at us, offering to call someone.

"It's broken, my foot is broken." I cry, holding onto John B as we stumble through the trees.

"No! No, you're okay, Snow. We just need to get to.. uh, somewhere. We'll get somewhere safe and everything will be fine." John B insists.

I try to keep my screams of agony to a minimum as we keep walking, John B practically carrying me even though he's limping slightly himself. We look up through the leaves when we hear a plane flying overhead. It's the Cameron's. Of course, we've lost the gold for real.

We eventually make it to a clearing with an open garage, and decide we can hide in there until we can contact our friends. We sneak around the corner, and John B helps me sit down against the wall, keeping my foot from moving.

"You're okay- here, stay still..." John B whispers, standing back up to look around.

"John B!" I hear someone gasp, and people running over.

"Are you okay? Hey, is this yours?" I hear JJ ask our friend, referring to the blood on his hands as I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall.

"Shit- Snowy!" I hear Kie say, and JJ is quickly at my side, grabbing at my shirt. "Are you shot? Hey, are you shot?" He asks again and I shake my head.

"It's Peterkin's." John B says to the group, making everyone look over at him.

"What? What happened to Peterkin?" Kie asks, and then we hear more sirens and everyone ducks as some police cruisers tear past us on the road.

"Ward shot her." I say, looking up at my friends. "Ward shot her, and we were trying to save her but he was going to shoot us too so we ran."

"And then we got hit by a car." John B adds. "I'm pretty sure her ankle is broken. We need to get her to a hospital."

"No, no way." Pope chimes in, shaking his head. "I'm usually the first to say we need to do the safe thing, but something tells me you guys need to lay low- I have a bad feeling about this." I nod a little bit at that in agreement.

"No, we need to go to the police, like right now and tell them what happened." John B protests.

"Okay.. okay, I'll run home and get my car, and we can camp out in there, take John B to the police station, and then we can get Snowy to the hospital." Kie suggests.

"Okay, yes. Good idea." JJ agrees, standing up again with everyone. "We'll stay here, you and Pope go get the car."

The two of them nod and run off, and the three of us left hide behind some of the scrap in the garage while we wait for them to come back.

It's about fifteen minutes before Kie's car pulls up, but by now it's dark. The boys help me up and into the back seat, and we get to the police station as fast as we can.

"This is a bad idea, man, never trust the cops." JJ says as John B climbs out of the car.

"I need to tell them what happened." John B insists, closing the door behind him and walking up to the door. The rest of us sit in silence.

"I think Rafe was going to shoot her if I didn't practically tackle him." I say, needing to get that off my chest. Everyone turns to look at me.

"He was going to kill a cop?" Kie asks, a look of disgust crossing her face.

I nod slightly. "Maybe! I mean, I don't know... it was his gun. He brought it. I think he was just panicking, you know?"

"Jesus Christ, Snowy." JJ sighs, fixing his hair. "That's what happens when you sleep with a Kook I guess, I don't know what they do over here."

"JJ..." I groan, leaning my head back against the seat. "You should see how his dad treats him, it's horrible. There's something going on with him, like, mentally, and his dad not giving a shit stacked with a drug problem equals out to be pretty much what you'd expect. He just needs help."

"And that's you? You really think you're helping him?" Kie raises her eyebrow at me.

"I don't know! That's what he told me, I don't want to ignore that." I say frustratedly. "Will you guys please just stop shitting on my boyfriend for one day?"

"Sure- but it won't be the day he tries to kill a cop. Or either of the days his dad tried to shoot you. And don't forget the days his friends beat the shit out of us." Pope says sarcastically.

"Okay, yeah, I get it. He's not a bad person, you guys just don't know him like I do. So many people hate us because of what we do and how we live but like... you guys can't see that he also deserves a chance?"

JJ scoffs. "Right, yeah, what Rafe Cameron needs is another chance."

"JJ, I know you're not talking right now- you've told us more than once about times you've thought about killing your dad. About how you held a gun to his head while he was asleep! And I'm not judging you for that- I seriously don't, I get it. I just think you and Rafe are more alike then you're willing to admit."

"Fuck off, Snowy-" JJ responds, going to continue when he's interrupted by yelling coming from the station. We see John B sprinting towards us, shouting at Kie to start the car while he jumps in.

"Go! Go! Start it!" John B yells as a few officers run towards us from the station, and Kie fumbles to start the car again.

"I'm trying!" She says, locking to doors so the officers can't open it from the outside and we finally get moving.

We're all panicking and talking at once as the officers are yelling at us to stop and open the doors.

"Open it!" I shout at John B, who looks at me confused as I gesture for him to knock the female officer off with the door.

"Oh!" He says, turning and shoving the door open, pushing the woman off and closing it again as we drive away.

"Holy shit, John B, what did you do?" Kie asks him, still panicking as we speed away.

"Ward- he said we killed her." He explains breathlessly. Of course Ward would blame us.

"Why would we kill her? That doesn't even make sense! Oh my god, what are we going to do?" I ask, beginning to hyperventilate at this point.

John B just shakes his head.

"Oh yeah, real great family you're getting yourself into Snow!" JJ says, clearly making fun of me. "Framing you for fucking murder. Gotcha."

I groan frustratedly and decide not to say anything. No one is in the place to listen to me anyways.

Our best move is to camp out in the car in the woods, where no one can see us. We just need to buy more time to figure out how we can tell the truth and get everyone to actually believe us.

Bright and early, once the sun rises, we decided to take the ferry and get off the island instead. We're waiting in a line in the car, and I'm laying down in the back seat next to John B, trying to get some more sleep out of view from the windows.

"What is taking so long?" Pope asks, tapping on the steering wheel frustratedly.

Just then, Kie gets back in the car and I can hear paper crinkling in her hands. "Okay, so bad news. They closed the ferry so no one can leave the island. And, you guys are wanted." She says, passing the paper back to JJ as I open my eyes.

"What's that?" I ask, as JJ looks between us and the poster in his hand.

"This is a nice framer of you guys. Really captures Snowy's hair nicely I think." JJ jokes as John B reaches over and snatches it from him. We look at the poster, and I notice they used a picture of Rafe and I at Midsummers that I had on my instagram, but he is cropped out. I wonder if he has seen this. I sigh and close my eyes again.

"We've got to figure out another way to get out of here." JJ says.

"Maybe The Pogue?" I suggest and everyone shakes their head.

"It's at the chateau..." John B replies.

"Hm.. yeah let me think- yeah. Cops have definitely got that place locked down right now."

"Okay, well, any other ideas?" I ask. "Pope?" He's usually the smart one.

"I'm thinking! Give me a second." He says, rubbing his eyes. "Okay, okay, JJ, your dad still have that cigarette boat? The one he used to race with... The Phantom?" Pope turns in his seat to look at the boy sitting behind him.

"Yeah, I think so." JJ nods. "I don't know where the keys are though."

"Hey, Kie? Your car is on this." John B interrupts, just as I notice that as well.

"Come on, move!" Pope says, honking the horn now. Typically when we smoke we don't get angry, but Pope is a big fan of "keeping the signal clear" and he doesn't usually join us. Last night, after blowing his interview and seeing John B almost get killed, he changed his pace and decided now was as good a time as any to try weed. I guess under this much stress I'd be irritable too.

"Woah, hey, someone's spotted us we gotta go!" Kie says as John B covers both of our faces with his sweater and a man bangs on the window, and I can hear him fighting with a kid over who saw us first.

We jolt forward as Pope slams on the gas, hitting the car in front of us. We're all screaming as we peel out onto the road, speeding away.

"Pope, man, careful!" JJ says.

"My parents are going to kill me." Kie whines, covering her eyes.

Once we're out of the immediate area, Pope slams on the brakes. "John B, Snowy, get out." He says, looking back at us.

"He's right- we'll draw the cops, you run."

"I can't run guys I can't." I say, sitting up and shaking my head.

"Okay- okay, John B, you go, we'll figure out how to hide Snowy and meet you out at the dump at three tomorrow with the boat." JJ says as John B climbs out. "Dump at three!" He adds to make sure his friend heard as he runs into the woods.

We drive away quickly as I watch John B out the window.

We find a place to hide the car, and walk over to the Wreck, JJ practically carrying me the whole way. Kie let's us in and we settle on sitting under the window, so anyone looking in can't see us.

"Can I borrow someone's phone?" I ask and JJ hands me his.

"Who are you calling?" Kie asks, but I ignore her. I don't want to fight about this right now.

I hold it up to my ear as I wait for Rafe to answer.

"Hello?" He answers, sounding frustrated and stressed.

"Hi." I say quietly.

"Snowy- oh my god, are you okay? Where are you?"

"We're camped out at The Wreck, please don't tell anyone. And I'm alive but my ankle is broken because I got hit by a stupid car and now I'm wanted for murder and I just don't know what to do." I say, feeling tears fill my eyes.

"I know, I know baby I just-" Rafe sighs. He sounds both sad and frustrated. "I'm doing everything I can, okay? I'm not going to let them come after you."

"They already are, I saw the poster." I sniffle.

"Okay, yeah, it's okay. I'm going to the station right now and I'm going to tell them you didn't do anything, okay? Then I'll come get you and we'll get you to the hospital."

"You're going to tell the truth, right?" I ask and he doesn't reply for a moment. This is when I know he can hear me crying through the phone.

"Listen, okay, listen I talked to my dad, we can tell them you didn't do anything. I'm going to tell them you're innocent, okay?"

"What about John B?" I ask, and I'm met with silence again. "Rafe..."

"Snowy I... I don't have a choice. He saved me, he saved us. I have to listen to my dad."

"But-"

"No!" He shouts out of nowhere. "I'm going out of my way to help you but I can't help your friend."

"Rafe, you're better than this." I tell him honestly.

"I'm going to get you out of this. I promise. I'll see you soon." He says, and then he hangs up.

I lean my head back against the wall, holding the phone back out to JJ.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

A/N; we're coming up so quick on s2 omg

taglist: @boo22sstuff @madelynie @username5786451 (message me or reply if you want to be added!!)