#important development for the ocs

[bellysoupset]

Breaking it Down

This happens directly after the Superbowl!

---------

After what Vince could only describe as the weekend from hell, he was back in Doveport. Abdomen sore and several shades too pale, with dark circles under his eyes, that was how Max found him holing up in the teacher's lounge during lunch hour Monday.

"Did you get the flu again?" The blonde asked in a frustrated tone, planting his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrows. Max had clearly been looking for him, since lunch had started fifteen minutes before and he should've been in the cafeteria along with the other teachers.

"No," Vince rubbed his face, sitting on the couch, "just had a rough weekend."

That was one way to put it. He still wasn't sure what to do with himself or all the information he had acquired the previous day. He had fucked up his friendship so royally that Luke no longer thought they were friends. There was a pang deep in his stomach, like a stab.

"...Do you wanna talk about it?" Max, whom Vince had forgotten was in the room, asked quietly. It was unlike him to be this soft and he was grimacing at his own tone, but Vince appreciated it nonetheless.

"No," Vince answered, against his own instincts. Normally, he'd be ready to pour his heart out to any of his friends, but this was about Lucas... And it felt wrong to talk about it with Max. He leaned on the sofa, elbows planted on his knees and staring ahead, "you should go have lunch, I'm fine."

"I'm going," Max agreed, then hesitated mid step, scratching at his auburn beard as he always did when nervous. He was still limping around with that damn crutch, it was almost a weapon under his arm, given how carelessly Max used it to gesture, "do you wanna grab a beer after work?"

Vince mulled over it, before nodding, "yeah, that'd be great."

Whoever said only romantic love could cause heartbreak was a fool. All of his classes were a blur and Vince spent any free minute of his day going over his text history with Luke. The last message was from Saturday, Luke confirming if they were coming over for the Superbowl.

Looking at the texts, it didn't seem they were estranged. Or at least, they hadn't seemed like that to Vin before, but now that he was paying much more attention, he could tell their conversations were either initiated by Vince or they were Luke communicating him of something. Telling him Wendy had fallen ill and they had all been at her apartment. Telling him about a sales at their favorite bookstore. Asking if he'd come over for Superbowl.

Not a single mention about the fact he was moving houses or the horrible loss Luke and Bell had just gone through. A simple "arrived safe" after he had gone home after their fight in Doveport, followed by two days of silence that Vince had easily dismissed as Luke still not feeling a hundred percent.

Vince felt like an idiot.

"Hey," Sophia walked closer, excitement causing her to bounce on her feet, "mamma asked if you're coming over for dinner tonight."

"Nope," Vince lowered his phone, guilt still churning deep in his stomach, "I'm going out with Daniels."

"Okay," Sophia shrugged, "but tomorrow can you come over? I wanted to tell you about B.U..."

Oh shit, he had forgotten all about that, "I'll do you one better," he offered, "I'm gonna take you out for dinner tomorrow, deal? A real dinner."

Soph's frown, which seemed permanently etched on her face, vanished for a split second, "a real dinner? How so..."

"It's my duty as your older brother to take you on a real dinner so you're not impressed by the first simpleton in Boston who takes you to a fancy restaurant," Vince smiled as he saw Sophia's eyes light up at the opportunity to wear makeup and heels.

"Alright," her voice was a whole note higher, trying and failing not to sound giddy, "deal!"

Damn he was going to miss his family, Vince thought as Sophia turned around and all but skipped back to her group of mean girls and they started whispering together.

After his last class, he swung by the kindergarten. His classes with the kids were the first of the day, but Vince had missed it since he had been driving over, so he hadn't seen Livia just yet. He hung by the door, arms crossed and waiting as the Math teacher instructed them to show their agendas to their parents.

Livia didn't see him as they finished up putting away their books and packing their backpacks. How did she overlook him when he occupied half the doorway, even leaning his body out, Vince wasn't sure.

"Liv, look who came to pick you up!" The teacher, Ms. Hollis, a ginger with a round face covered in freckles, pointed at him and Livia perked up, rushing to him.

She wasn't a toddler anymore for Vince to scoop her up, but he did it anyways, grabbing her by the armpits and throwing her up in the air like he did back when she was three, grinning as she exploded in giggles.

"What are you doing here?!" She threw her arms around his neck and Ms. Hollis, blushing all the way to the root of her hair, passed Vince the abandoned backpack.

"Thanks you," Vince smiled at the teacher, before pressing a kiss to Livia's cheek, "I missed you! How was your weekend?"

He took his sweet time to walk to the parking lot, listening attentively as Livia blabbed away about her weekend and how Soph had come back home and wouldn't shut up. He wondered if Liv had come to terms Soph would be leaving soon, if anyone had disclosed these news to her, and his own heart squeezed as he thought of the fact he'd be moving out just as soon.

"There you are!" Ma was waiting for them in the parking lot, near the closed car since Vince still had the keys. He opened the car, handing his mother the keys and she frowned as her eyes paused on Vin's face. Sophia was nowhere in sight, since she had cheerleader practice, "was your brother keeping you after class?"

"We were chatting!" Liv explained, jumping from his arms and climbing on the backseat, making grabby hands for her backpack.

"What's wrong?" Ma whispered, as Vince passed Liv her bag and pressed a kiss on the top of her curls, straightening up next to the car.

"Just tired," he lied and his mom squinted at him, not buying it.

"You look sick, Vicenzo."

"Ate something off at Luke's," Vince answered diplomatically, technically it was the truth, "threw up a lot yesterday."

"Oh no," Ma took a step closer, hands stretched out as if she wanted to embrace him like he was Liv's age and not twice her size and a grown man, "are you feeling better now?" her hands cupped his cheek.

"I'm fine," Vince, held her wrists, forcing up a smile, "Wendy and Leo were the only ones left standing."

"Are the others alright?" Ma's frown deepened, "Sophia said you're going out with Max, is that wise when you were just sick?"

"I'm fine, ma," Vince held both her hands in one of his, planting a kiss on her knuckles, "the others are fine too. I'll stop by this week, we have to celebrate. I got the job!"

"You did!?" Ma jumped to hug him, but even then Vince had to crouch down to hug her back. He tipped his body back, taking his mom off her feet and causing her to squeal, squeezing him even more.

"Babbo will be so happy, can I tell him or do you want to?"

"You can tell him, ma," Vince planted her back on the ground and saw Max hanging awkwardly by his white pick-up, probably unsure if they still were going out, "I gotta go."

"Take care of yourself, cucciolo, you look awful," Ma sighed, but waved him away.

Max had already fished out a cigarette from his pack and was sitting on the driver's seat, with his door throw open as he watched Vince say goodbye to his family and then jog to him.

"Mamma Monacelli was grilling you because you look like death?" Max guessed, waving to the older woman as Ma looked their way as if she could sense they were talking about her.

"Of course," Vince rolled his eyes, then frowned, "why the hell did you drive- HOW did you drive here!? Your foot is broken!"

"Ankle," Max wrinkled his nose, "and only one, I don't need both to drive, my car is automatic."

"You're ridiculous," Vince groaned, shooing him to the passenger seat, "that fucking ankle will never heal if you keep moving around like that..."

"I'm touched, you care," Max said sardonically, dramatically clutching his chest and causing Vince to shove his shoulder, pushing him further inside the car.

He fiddled with the driver seat, glaring at Max as he did that, "put that garbage out," he gestured to the cigarette and the blonde scoffed, blowing out a little ring of smoke as they drove off the parking lot.

"I can't do shit around here," Max grumbled, poking the ring with his cigarette and eying Vince up and down, "I'll have you know I have a medical permit."

"This is not weed, Max," Vince snorted, unable to fight a smile, "and you don't have a medical permit for that either."

He didn't drive far, back to Stache's, the pub that was just on the corner of Max's place.

"I can do it myself," Max shrugged off his hands as Vince tried to help him up, wincing as he got on his feet, wobbling on top of the crutch. They walked to one of the side of the street tables, instead of going in and he went down with a sigh, rubbing his knee and thigh on the hurt leg.

"Are you in pain?" Vince asked, as he dropped his bag on the opposite free chair and got up to grab them beer.

"Nope, peachy," Max all but lied. Vince walked away, waving at the owner behind the counter and grabbing the glass bottles in the fridge, before returning to the table.

Max had lit up another cigarette, but now they were in the open instead of the closed car and there was a breeze blowing the smoke away from Vince's face, so he didn't give him much grief besides glaring at the cig.

He sat back down and all but chugged his beer, while Max watched him attentively, "alright, spill. What happened? Is this because the semester is almost over?"

Vin snorted, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose as beer ran down his chin, wiping it on the back of his hand, "nah..." he muffled a little burp against his fist and leaned back on his chair, "just a rough-"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard it the first time around," Max rolled his eyes, clearly not buying it, "troubles in paradise?"

Vince opened a little smug smile, "you wish Daniels," he teased, "nope, Wendy and I are fine."

Max wiped an imaginary tear, "and here I thought it was time to shoot my shot," he mocked right back, although a blush was crawling up his cheeks, "alright, don't tell me. Let me run my speech by you-"

"Your speech?" Vince's shoulders dropped as he relaxed and Max nodded, reaching in the pocket of his jeans for a crumpled piece of paper.

"For the prom," he explained, clearing his throat and starting to read.

Normally, it was incredibly easy to let concern slip from his mind, allow Max to pull him in with his sarcastic jokes and long rants. Max wasn't a really talkative guy, not like Luke was, but now Vince figured they were close enough that he wanted to talk about everything and anything.

However, today not even Max's excitement was doing much of a dent in Vince's bad humor. He was constantly zoning out, thoughts drifting back to the shreds of conversation he could remember from the previous day, most of it buried under the food poisoning's nausea. Luke saying they were best friends, using the past tense, was causing Vince's skin to crawl.

"Hellooo-" Max waved before his eyes and Vince blinked, shaking his head.

"Fuck, I'm sorry-" he rubbed at his face, tiredly and then took another swing at his beer, "I'm sorry, I'm shitty company right now. You should go home-"

"So I can sit there staring at the walls?" Max rolled his eyes, "I'd rather be here, shitty company and all."

Something settled deep in his stomach, heavy like a brick, fluttering like butterflies. Max wanted his company and it was flattering and incredibly nice to hear after the past 24 hours, but just as terrifying. Because he was about to fuck it up too...

"I'm leaving," Vince blurted out and Max's eyebrows jumped up, as he choked on his beer and angrily grabbed a handful of paper napkins to wipe his chin.

"You-" he coughed, "what? Now?! What did I say?!"

"No," Vince's hands were sweating and he wiped them on his pants, feeling that cold, freezing sensation take over his stomach, like the seconds just before a rollercoaster drop, "I'm leaving Doveport. Uhm- A week after the semester ends, so next- Next month..."

"Oh," Max lowered his beer bottle back to the table and stopped coughing softly, freezing in place, "uh- Okay... Uhm-" he scratched nervously at his beard, "I'm assuming you're moving in with your girl?"

Vince nodded, "yes, back in Welton... I got a job already lined up, Fernanda recommended me-"

"Fernanda- The principal knew?" Max's voice was dripping with judgment, "damn, you could've mentioned it when we were hiking up a mountain together for hours. Or in the fifty or so hours you spent in my apartment after-"

Vince couldn't take it. He knew, in every possible sense, that he was entirely deserving of this dressing down, just like he had been in the wrong on the argument with Luke... But there was only so much kicking he could take while down and this was it.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, voice choking up and tears prickling his eyes.

"Or you know, any of the other days you were at my pla- Shit, Vince," Max interrupted himself as Vince shook his head, looking away and trying to swallow the knot in his throat, "aw man... Fuck, Vince, don't cry..."

Despite the fact he couldn't put any weight on his hurt leg, Max shuffled his plastic chair closer, patting awkwardly Vince's thigh, "don't cry, I'm not pissed, I'm just annoyed-"

Vince felt a whole new level of pathetic, especially when only a small part of his emotional distress was due to Max's annoyance, but he was letting the guy comfort him nonetheless. He let out a whimper, angrily wiping at his eyes, "I'mfine-" he mumbled, words sticking together, "just- Just'gimme-a-sec..."

Max nodded, but didn't pull back at all. Quite the contrary, he reached in and patted Vince's back, "yeah, sure, bud..." suddenly he sounded much more mature, the teacher Vince had caught glimpses off here and there.

And Vince broke down. It was a gentleness too much for his guilty consciousness and Vince planted his elbows on the table and hid his face in his hands as he sobbed. He felt bad about leaving, but felt worse over the sensation he had lost Luke's friendship and guilty that he was letting Max comfort him and angry at himself for not noticing the distance between him and his friends and scared he couldn't fix it-

"Fuck, okay..." Max patted his back in a soothing manner, "you're alright, let it out," he all but cooed, sounding terribly worried.

As if Vin needed any incentive after yesterday. He continued to sob, hot tears streaming up, none of that half concealed macho crying that he usually did. Eventually, though, the tears dried down and he was left feeling guilty, empty and defeated.

"Imssorry..." He slurred, only to hear a scoff and Max pushed a bunch of paper napkins in his hand so he could blow his nose and wipe the tears.

"Don't apologize," he said, harshly, sounding worried, "Jesus, not for crying of all things, don't apologize."

Vince let out a huff, using almost all of their table's napkins and finally he moved so he could look at Max, who was openly staring at him, "I'm not apologizing for crying, I'm-"

"Don't apologize for leaving either, this place is a shithole," Max wrinkled his nose in an offended manner, "God knows why you came back to it in the first place, but it's fine you're leaving, Vince. You have a girl, a job and a bunch of friends in the city, I'd leave too-"

"Then why don't you?" Vince spoke over him and Max's mouth became a comical O, opening and closing around nothing like a fish out of the water, "I mean- You don't have anything holding you here, do you? Welton is a nice town, I- I could help you get settled there if you want to leave, you'd be close to friends-"

"Your friends," Max corrected him, but it was weak and strangled, suddenly he seemed to be the one in distress, shaking his head from side to side, "please don't ask me this."

"Wendy adores you, Bella likes you, I'm sure the others will warm up-"

"Vince," Max squeezed his nape, "you sound guilty you're leaving me behind. I'm fine-"

"I'm not-" Vince paused, because that was a lie. He was, he was guilty for leaving Max indeed. He liked the guy, a whole fucking lot, and he had been pulling Max closer for months now and he was about to get up and leave him, without any friends or support, and it was eating at him, "I am... You can't blame me, I don't like the idea of you all alone here..."

"Geez," Max rolled his eyes, pulling his walls back up like pants that had slipped down, "I'm fine, you don't have to worry. I've lived here my whole life, I'm not gonna die because you're gone, stop thinking so highly of yourself."

It was a teasing tone, meant to defuse the situation, but Vince was wound up tight and so was Max, so they just stared at each other in silence. The blonde let out a heavy sigh, breaking first, "I'm gonna miss you, sure, but I- I could visit..."

"You should," Vince agreed, voice strong and wiping at his face one last time, "but the offer- The offer stands. You don't care for this town, you care for your students, but Welton has schools too, Max... And-"

"And it has you, yeah I know," Daniels' cheeks were pink as he shrugged and looked away, "not now, Vin."

It wasn't a no and Vince took what he could get, latching onto it like a cat, sinking his claws on the half promise.

"Are you pissed...?" He asked after a beat, reaching for his beer once again. This time it seemed it was Max who had zoned out, as he startled when Vin touched his shoulder, but then shook his head, slinging an arm behind Vince's chair.

"Over you telling the fucking principal before me, maybe," he scoffed, but there was a smile tugging on his lips, "but not over you leaving. Really, not at all."

"And you'll visit?" Vince tried not to sound like a hopeful kid, feeling like he was failing at the task.

Max rolled his eyes, "yeah, sure, I'll visit..." he glared at his lap, "if you want me to..."

"I do," Vince said loudly, strongly, not daring to leave any room for doubt. For the first time all day, in a while, it wasn't guilt speaking, it was selfish and genuine, "if it was up to me you'd come along."

Max turned his head, staring at him, then raised his eyebrows in a sardonic manner and reached for his beer, "careful or I'll think you care, Monacelli."

"I do," Vince pouted, "I do care. You are my friend, you're not just the guy I befriended in Doveport because there were no other options, Max... You know that, right? That I don't want you around because you're a pity case, but because I enjoy your company?"

Max's face was aflame as he gulped down and nodded, "so you keep telling me," he took a large gulp of his beer, "I'm gonna fucking miss you, Vin."

[lavampira]

ffxiv sapphic sunday 🌸 spring

[oc-loving]

which ocs are in a homoerotic rivalry?

[oaksapling]

gave ransom another makeover dont look at me this is the last time i swear

[vashonian]

Loolilalu outfit concepts for Sherbet's Gate. Generally her silhouette runs from 1911-1914 and 1919-1921 at the far end - very straight and tubular for the most part. Her Episode 2 dress is still present, but's mostly reserved for ceremonies and official functions.

Loo is a difficult character to describe without delving too much into future spoilers, but she's both a major viewpoint character and antagonist. Due to the shock of the Fudge's rampage and Pomni's attempts to pull another Gummigoo, she's quite aware of how fake her world is. She has a vendetta against Caine and his knights, and is determined to root out every trace of them to enlighten and protect her subjects.

All the while, she's struggling to maintain power in a world that's both familiar and absolutely strange to her, and is already teetering due to the maple syrup shortage and general unrest and banditry.

More under the cut!

More OCs abound too - these two are already either present or are coming up soon!

Jaybee and Sophie Mae are fairly large spoiler characters, but there's a little biographical info here for you! They're both going to be very important in how Pomni and Gummigoo interact in the world the farther they get into the banditry side of things.

[avemstella]

quod erat demonstrandum (14504 words) by avemstella Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021), League of Legends Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jayce (League of Legends) & Ximena Talis, Caitlyn & Jayce (League of Legends), Jayce/Viktor (League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends)/Mel Medarda Characters: Jayce (League of Legends), Viktor (League of Legends), Ximena Talis, Mel Medarda, Caitlyn (League of Legends)

Summary: One day, Jayce would go to Piltover. One day he would take his rightful place as the son of House Talis. One day he would make all his ambitions a reality. But for the moment he was a child trapped in the isolated mountain town he was born in. But Mama promised him a future in Piltover, and he would take it. He just had to wait a little longer. At the edge of town sat a manor that Jayce was never allowed to go to. He really wished he never found out why.   A canon complement look at a what if backstory (and beyond) for Jayce Talis.

Hey look here's the Arcane fic I mentioned earlier that I actually posted over a week ago but wanted to finish the cover art before posting here.

It's my Jayce character study that is technically canon compliment but probably not what the writers intended pfft. I took the mystery around why the heck he was in that snowstorm and merged it with some random things from LoL and went insane.

Bonus sketch below the cut that doesn't mean anything until you read chapter one:

sorry Asier you didn't get to be on the cover for thinly veiled symbolism reasons, so here you go my little doomed by the narrative child.

[insertsona]

AFTER A MILDLY INTENSE WEEK OR SO OF DRAWING THIS MAN LIKE TEN TIMES A DAY. I HAVE FINALLY GOT THIS YELLOW ASSHOLE TO 1000 IMAGES.

more road to 1000 doodles under the cut !!

[imogenkol]

— SHE’D DO ANYTHING FOR ME

pairing: Imogen Kol (oc) x Bix Caleen rating: Mature words: 3.3k warnings: possessive behavior, codependency, fight and make up summary: tfw when your ex finds your taste in women extremely questionable

notes: this is another older-ish one that I feel compelled to post on its own.

Everything felt so... calm and peaceful. In the same way the sky looks before a storm. Imogen should be fleeing for her life or at the very least preparing herself for the inevitable destruction. But she didn't — she couldn't. 

All she managed was to lie in bed beside the woman she fought so hard not to love. The warmth of her body half draped over Imogen's after a night of passion. It was such a simple thing, to have her beloved's head rest against her chest and feel their breaths as one, yet she could not recall ever feeling so content.

Destruction might just be worth it.

Bix trailed her fingertips along her bare collarbone which caused Imogen to smile. Her own caress lightly traveled up and down the mechanic's spine in aimless patterns. It even felt extraordinary to touch her just for the sake of it.

"I'm starting to believe you actually like waking up next to me," Bix said in a lighthearted tone.

"I have always desired this," Imogen admitted softly, tilting her head enough to nuzzle against hers.

"Meaning you've always been afraid of this."

Imogen tensed. The hard-wired urge to pull away and fiercely deny such an accusation threatened to overcome her, but there was no sense in refuting the truth any longer. Not from Bix. Gradually, the bounty hunter willed her muscles to ease. She wondered how long it would take to train these instincts out of her. "If we... truly commit to one another –"

Bix's fingers suddenly twitched into a fist against Imogen's skin. "If?"

"No," Imogen quickly corrected herself. "No more ifs. What I mean to say is... Well, I have a lot to learn."

"So do I. So does everyone," Bix stated matter-of-factly. She leaned up on her elbow and met the other woman's apprehensive expression. "You're here. You're trying. That's all that really matters to me."

A strand of dark hair dangled over the mechanic's cheek. Imogen reached out and delicately tucked it behind her ear. She took in the unobscured beauty of her beloved for a few prolonged beats, her thumb tracing some of those features that left her in awe.

"I am quite certain there is one thing in this galaxy that I would not be able to bear," Imogen muttered under her breath – almost to herself.

Bix moistened her lips as she inched closer. "And what's that?"

A rhythmic knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Along with a gruff voice that called out "Bix? It's me."

Imogen hoped her glare would burn right through the durasteel to strike Cassian down.

"Hang on!" Bix called back. With an exasperated sigh, she slumped down and hid her face in the crook of Imogen's neck for a beat before she forced herself up. At the sight of the bounty hunter's less than pleased expression, Bix said "Don't start anything. I’m not in the mood to deal with either of your shit today."

"He still draws breath, does he not? That is the extent of my manners," Imogen replied curtly as Bix hastily dressed herself. She, too, summoned a great effort to follow her out of bed and do the same. "Unless he wishes to apologize for aiming a blaster at my heart."

"You held your lightsaber at his throat."

"He drew on me first."

Bix rolled her eyes, though Imogen caught the upturn at the corner of her mouth before she turned towards the door. "Come in."

The both of them hadn't quite finished dressing. Cassian entered as Bix fastened the waistband of her pants at the same moment Imogen pulled a shirt over her head. He halted mid-step, his gaze shifting between the two women as if a complicated equation did not add up. Though, the scene before him must have been fairly obvious.

"What is it, Cass?" Bix impatiently urged.

"I just... wanted to talk to you." Cassian's answer came out distracted. His eyes lingered on the bounty hunter.

Imogen looked to Bix expectantly and received a nod. A part of her had hoped that she would have been allowed to remain in the room, but she understood why Bix dismissed her. Without another word, Imogen collected her coat in one hand and intended to make her exit when an impulse emerged. She would not have Cassian misinterpret anything here, not if she had any say in it.

In a few strides, Imogen went to Bix and pulled her in by the back of her neck. While their lips met with intention, it was no less soft or passionate than the kisses they shared in private. Imogen indulged in a few strokes and had to fight not to get lost in the sensations, nearly forgetting the witness she intended to show for.

Once Imogen pulled away, she gave Bix a parting caress and said "I will come find you later."

The mechanic had a knowing glint in her eye, but she nodded again. "Alright."

Cassian had not moved and the nature of his continued gaze turned from dumbfounded to outright suspicion. Imogen glared right back at him as she made her way towards the door. He stood far enough into the room that she could have easily maneuvered around him, but she instead shoved her shoulder into his as she walked past. Just to make sure her point came across clearly.

Cassian let it happen and she exited the room with an air of confidence. 

Despite having been dismissed, Imogen’s curiosity compelled her to linger just outside the door. Cassian could be there to simply check up on his friend, or he could be there to stir up tension. Either way, Imogen didn’t trust his judgment or his motives and prepared to intervene if she must. 

She leaned against the wall next to the door and shut her eyes to focus her hearing as best as she could past the thick durasteel wall. Through the Force, she could pinpoint each of their positions and the vibration of their voices became clear in her ears. 

“I didn’t realize you two were back to your original arrangement,” Cassian said. 

“We’re not,” Bix replied curtly. 

“No? Then what was all that about?”

“We’re trying something different.” 

Cassian scoffed. “Different. With her?” 

“Yeah. With her,” Bix asserted and Imogen sensed that she placed her hands on her hips as irritation began to swell in the mechanic’s chest. 

“Alright then.” 

“Look, did you just come in here to rag on my personal life choices or was there actually a point to this conversation?” 

“I’m not ragging,” he insisted, shrugging his shoulders defensively. “I just – I don’t get it.” 

“Well, you sound pretty judgmental. Which is rich coming from you, Cass.” 

“At least I haven’t slept with an Imperial Inquisitor.” 

“She’d do anything for me.”

Cassian did not try to hide his disdain. “Where have I heard that before?”

“Imogen is not Timm,” Bix snapped.

Under normal circumstances, Imogen would never allow anyone to come to her defense. All that mattered was that she had enough power to stand up for herself. And yet… she realized that no one ever has spoken up for her in any capacity. The utter conviction in Bix’s statement filled her with an unexpected swell of pride. 

“No,” Cassian agreed patronizingly. “Timm never waved a red laser sword in anyone’s face.”

The jab only seemed to antagonize the mechanic more. “What is your problem?”

The two of them struggled to keep their tones leveled, but as tensions grew, so did their volume. Even in an enclosed space, their disagreement would certainly be heard by anyone that walked by. Imogen didn’t even have to hold her focus through the Force to hear them clearly any longer. Cassian must not have cared because he knew many others held the same prejudices against Imogen that he did. Bix clearly had no issue voicing her opposite opinion. 

Imogen loved her for it. 

“I don’t know, I just,” he stammered over his argument once again and sighed. “I think there are better options out there –”

“What, like you?”

“Come on, you know that isn’t what I’m trying to say.”

“Then what are you trying to say? Explain it to me.”

Imogen’s patience for eavesdropping wore thin and the discomfort she sensed in Bix only made her own anger rise. The bounty hunter pushed away from the wall and took an assertive step towards the room, fully intending to assure Cassian of her permanence at Bix’s side, but his next words made her hesitate. 

“I’m worried for you, being with someone like that,” he said earnestly

There was a pause. Bix did not abandon her stern tone, but Imogen heard it soften ever so slightly as she responded. “She won’t do anything that I don’t ask her to do.”

“Maybe that’s what I’m worried about.”

“Oh, so you’re afraid of me now, too?”

“I’m afraid of how she’ll change you.”

Another tense beat of silence passed between the two of them. Imogen absorbed Cassian’s words and they left a bitter taste on her mouth. He sounded like Cal, making it seem as if darkness only corrupted. Darkness could bring strength. Darkness could bring power. Imogen would not change Bix, Bix would change herself into whatever she needed to be. That is what Cassian truly feared, whether he realized it or not.

“I’ve already changed. And Imogen had nothing to do with it. So do us both a favor and mind your fucking business from now on,” Bix said firmly.

The mechanical door suddenly slid open and Bix came into view as she stormed away from the conversation, coming up short once she spotted Imogen. Her eyes widened slightly and she quickly glanced behind her, but Cassian hadn’t made his retreat from the room yet. 

“Are you alright?” Imogen asked. The urge to confront Cassian herself remained, though she doubted any of her intentions towards him would improve his reservations about her.

Bix continued to briskly walk away, reaching out for Imogen’s waist to usher them along — or more likely move her as far away from Cassian as they could get in order to avoid a possible blood feud. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it,” Imogen casually admitted. 

“Don’t let it get to you, alright?” Bix rubbed her hand up and down Imogen’s back. Whether her intentions were to pacify herself or the dangerous woman next to her, it was difficult to say. Imogen still accepted her touch. 

“While he made a fool of himself… some of his concerns are not entirely unfounded,” she said slowly.  

Bix shot her a deeply confused look. “Are you saying you care what Cassian thinks?”

“No,” Imogen replied with a scoff. “I simply mean that he harbors the same judgments everyone else holds against me. I have accepted them long ago and so should you, lest that scowl overstays its welcome.” 

The mechanic shook her head bitterly, ignoring Imogen’s attempt to lighten her mood. “They just don’t know you.”

“And they never will. Not like you do.” 

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Bix pointed out as she came to a stop in a secluded corner of the hallway. “All he sees is the Inquisitor.”

Imogen tried not to roll her eyes. “I have nothing to prove to him or anyone else. Why should I waste my time with such an endeavor? Especially when they are not wrong.”

“They are wrong.”

“No, they aren’t. Not about me. Not about us.” Imogen placed her hands on Bix’s arms. Her caress had a sort of melancholy that lingered in the small smile across her lips. “I do not believe I am the best option for you, but I will be yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bix asked incredulously and shook off her touch. 

Imogen felt a tightness at the back of her throat. She moistened her lips and swallowed with difficulty, her voice hollow. “Have you considered that your feelings for me might be influenced by gratitude? By the simple fact that I got to you first on Ferrix? Would it not be Cassian’s embrace you’d wish to fall into every night had it been him?” 

It deeply pained Imogen to voice an insecurity that she had failed to bury. The way Bix had looked at her differently since Ferrix filled Imogen with a warmth that she had never experienced before, but she could not shake the whisper at the back of her mind that gradually became another scream in the cacophony. A part of her did not care if it was true, she would be grateful to have Bix in any capacity. But the much larger part that truly loved her felt she needed to hear those words.

An intense and furious expression twisted Bix’s features as her body stiffened. She fixed Imogen with such a hard look that the bounty hunter nearly took a step back. 

“Fuck you,” Bix said with a shocking amount of venom. Imogen realized her grave mistake, then, and it felt like a harsh slap to the face. “And fuck what you’re insinuating.” 

“Bix–”

“And I’ll tell you why you’re wrong,” she continued fiercely and took an assertive step towards Imogen, entering her space. It wasn’t until that moment that Imogen noticed she had, in fact, backed away. “What I feel for you was there before all of this. So, despite what you might think of me, I won’t just fall for the first fucking person who comes to my rescue!”

Imogen’s gaze became downcast in shame before she responded softly “Forgive me. I misspoke.”

“You sure did,” Bix snarled bitterly. She turned to walk away and Imogen felt conflicted on whether or not she should follow. 

She refrained from pursuit, but she couldn’t help calling out after her. “You know I don’t truly think that.” 

Bix hesitated. Some of the tension dispersed from her shoulders as she released a weary sigh and glanced back. “You still don’t believe that I can love you for you. I thought we were past this, Imogen.” 

“I do not doubt you.”

“Some part of you does.”

“Maybe… But I swear not to give voice to those thoughts ever again.” She dared a step towards the mechanic.

Bix held up a hand to stop her. “Look, first it was Cassian and now it’s you, just… give me some time, okay?”

Imogen hated Cassian. And she wasn’t particularly fond of herself at the moment, either. She conceded. “Of course.”

As she watched Bix walk away, Imogen felt the invisible tether between them tighten. Disbelief filled the pit of embarrassment in her gut as she tried to make sense of what just happened. She knew better. Imogen knew better and still she plucked out the most absurd thought from the back of her mind and spoke it out loud like a witless scoundrel. If her utter foolishness is what finally made the tether snap, she would never forgive herself.

Hours passed and Imogen kept herself scarce until evening approached and she could sequester herself to the comfort of her own ship. Though, The Huntress felt far colder and emptier than it ever has before.

Imogen ate a quick supper and prepared for bed early. As she settled into the cot, silence sounded more unbearable than a cacophony of tangled voices. The longer she stewed in the memory of her own foolish words, the more Imogen felt like she could hear the shouting of those imaginary voices at the back of her mind. Some sounded like her own voice. Others sounded like her Master. They sounded like Vader. They sounded like Cal. 

They sounded like Bix. 

After a while — or an eternity — Imogen groaned and sat up in the cot, swinging her legs over the side and contemplating numerous methods to get her brain to shut off. All felt fruitless. 

Then she sensed a familiar presence approach, making her spine perk up like an alert animal. 

The entrance to The Huntress whooshed open and Bix trudged in, looking as exhausted and dejected as Imogen felt. The bounty hunter couldn’t deny the immediate feeling of serenity at the sight of her lover, but she still gripped the edge of the cot and half expected another round of disciplining. 

The mechanic came to a stop before her and crossed her arms, appearing less stern than earlier, but Imogen still noted the twitch of her jaw. They simply breathed in the tense air for a few long beats until she finally spoke. 

“You didn’t come to bed.” Bix tried to hide it, but she sounded hurt.

“You asked for time,” Imogen replied pointedly. 

The mechanic sighed as she stared down at the floor and shook her head. “I didn’t mean the whole night, I’m sorry.”

“You should not apologize.” 

“I want to,” Bix insisted as she stepped closer to the cot. Her fingers twitched in a subtle fidget at her sides. “What you said earlier –” 

“Was careless.” 

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “Yeah, it was. But I know you didn’t mean it that way. I’ve been thinking about it and you’re not entirely wrong. Well, you are when it comes to Cassian, but about gratitude...” Bix’s shoulders lifted as she took in a deep breath, her gaze shifting over the interior of the ship that she knew as well as her own home back on Ferrix. “I’ve always wanted to be near you, but after everything you’ve done for me, it feels less like a want and more like a need. I don’t know, but I start to lose my mind a little bit when you’re gone. Even with how upset I was earlier, a part of me still hoped you’d come after me.”

Imogen took a quiet moment to contemplate the confession. She understood Bix’s words because she had seen the evidence. All that she missed was the true extent of her suspicion. But before Imogen allowed her emotions to settle, she offered one single question. 

“Does that bother you?”

“No,” Bix answered confidently and closed the distance between them. She reached out and took a strand of Imogen’s hair between her fingers. “Does it bother you?”

It should, her thoughts responded immediately without voicing it. Imogen recognized this attachment had grown to an intensity Bix did not have full control over. She recognized it because it was the same attachment she had within herself. As if Bix were a vital organ her body would not survive without.

Could Imogen’s devotion still be pure in that case? Did it matter? It certainly did not feel like it did when her beloved gazed down at her with a mixture of adoration and concern. 

“No,” Imogen said and accepted that for all it could possibly mean.

A small smile of relief brightened the mechanic’s features. “Good,” she said. Bix placed her hands on Imogen’s shoulders and pulled herself down onto the bounty hunter’s lap. “Because I’m done arguing with people about loving you.”

Imogen’s arms automatically wrapped around Bix’s waist to keep her close. She grew weary of the discourse as well, but she did not wish to see Bix angry with those she held dear – no matter how much Imogen detested them. “They argue because they care.”

“I know.” Bix leaned in until their foreheads touched, her hands coming up to rest against Imogen’s cheeks. “But they should see how you make me feel.”

Imogen felt her face flush with a warm grin at that. “You were right earlier.” 

“About what?”

Their lips brushed together. Chaste at first. More of an innocent expression of her fondness. Then Imogen tightened her grip around the woman in her embrace as she deepened the kiss. Many emotions were conveyed in the cadence she led. Her kiss was possessive as she lightly nipped at Bix’s lower lip. It was passionate as the tip of her tongue greeted hers. It was desperate as short breaths escaped their lungs and tickled their skin. It was everything. 

Imogen finally pulled back, but only the smallest amount to utter her answer. “I would do anything for you.”

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[otaku553]

My brother recently got into Demon Slayer so I wanted to make a kny oc for him since I did it before with both me and my sister and never got around to my brother :)

But I started by refreshing my own design because wow?? It’s been 4 years since I first made my kny insert character and a lot of things are now outdated! Not to mention my art has improved a lot, I hope. More details under the cut!

Meet Ebisu Koharu: youngest of the Ebisu family and physically the weakest. They only barely passed Final Selection by hiding for the entire week and surviving off tips from their older siblings. Nonetheless, they still want to contribute, which is why they hold onto a thick, leather bound book that records every demon they’ve ever met in precise detail, with labeled diagrams and scribbled calculations in the margins of different strengths and weaknesses.

After spending a few years on the job, and properly seeing their data contribute to the successes of other demon slayers, they’ve come a bit more into their own as a competent researcher and fighter, though they still do tend to request paired missions with friends and family to act more as a support role rather than a fighter.

The Ebisu family is one of scholars. The eldest daughter Kaoru is a doctor, and the eldest son Shougen is a chemist. By nature, fighting is not necessarily their strong suit, which is why their family breathing style and techniques are all poison-assisted. Of the three, Koharu is the weakest and most averse to combat— they wield a short half-length blade, with more of a smooth ceremonial hilt and sheath than any practical weapon.

[neptunes-blue]

original character stuff, no hbowar art till I find my footing in it again 😔 sorry gang

[swordmaid]

Okay. I've seen Shri'iia on my dash a bundle of times, and I need to know more about her. Mind giving me a rundown on who she is?

shri’iia is my bg3 tav / player character who I turned into an oc outside of the game because I’m obsessed with her CURRENTLY! which is quite obvious considering how much I post about her like it’s my full time job.

anyway shri’iia is a lolth-sworn drow who was raised knee deep in lolth’s cult, became a paladin to serve lolth and her doctrine and worshipped her spider goddess for a near 2 centuries until she got dropped off into the surface (unknown land for her, she literally hasn’t left her home until the start of the game) and she breaks her oath in less than 10 days.

that snowballs into a series of events where she going through a loss of faith, a massive existential crisis, processing the trauma of being in that cult and also having a toxic codependent relationship with someone who she projected her goddess into, and she goes through this whole journey of finding her own autonomy and with it, finds a new purpose for herself too. that’s kind of the gist of it tbh LOL

[distant-velleity]

anyone want TGTWST lore? no? well too bad lol

~

Once upon a time...

If every universe is its own self-contained “seed,” and every alternate of it a new “sprout” branching outwards, then “Earth” and “Wonderland” must be two seeds planted in the same field. So close as to share concepts, but vastly differing in natural law and history. 

The flow of time in Wonderland had long since been corrupted. It became encased in an isolated samsara, where the same few people would be reincarnated and history would repeat itself. Their stories became twisted, lost to time and faded memories. Everything changed, and yet everything remained the same.

“I see,” observed a certain being who had taken it upon himself to watch both Earth and Wonderland. “Their desires for a ‘happy ending’ have changed the fundamental laws of that world. Then, if it’s a ‘happy ending’ they want… I will write it for them.”

So he undertook his next task, indulging himself in the name of ‘order.’ A story he wrote by taking bits and pieces and fragments from others, a System he programmed, a method of fixing the error as much as his powers allowed him to.

“Now… What shall I name this story? Ah, yes, this one sounds fitting—Twisted Wonderland. It’s what they call themselves, isn’t it?”

It was complete—or, rather, it was almost complete. There was only one problem: his story lacked the perfect main character. A novel is pointless without a protagonist; a game is pointless without a player. As the ‘author,’ the ‘administrator,’ he could not fill that role.

Therefore, he created a blank vessel and waited. And waited, and waited.

Until finally, a soul with that same desire for a “happy ending” came along. It was a pitiful soul, one that had ended its life on Earth far too early. It even bore resemblance to that of the Spectator’s original body.

“How amusing. Then, why don’t I give you this second chance?”

Gently, he guided the soul into the blank vessel and allowed natural desires and magic to adjust its shape. 

“You will gaze into their memories, get to know them, and eventually set them on a new path.  But for you, there is nothing but the vague promise of a ‘happy ending’ waiting. So I’m looking forward to seeing it—what choices you will make along the way and where that will take you.”

He smiled, and allowed the story to take its course.

“All things considered, it's a win-win situation, isn’t it? After all, 'endings' are just new beginnings.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Present day.

The presence before the 'protagonist' feels overwhelming, but not oppressive. Still, it sends an eerie chill through his whole body - he's survived eight overblots, and yet to come face to face with this kind of being...

“Who are you? Why do you… look like me?”

[typewriting-robin]

Part of my Ikemen Villains experience has been creating Robin OCs (MCs?) that are partially inspired by 19th century classical literature/poetry, save for about one or two, one for each boy.

This will be my masterlist for the main 9 as of July 2024. Of course, dynamics and backstories are subject to change.

William:

(Note: She is the one who will most likely be written in 2nd person POV. ) Dynamic: corrupter and corrupted, fast burn, partners in crime

Harrison:

Dynamic: Normal x Normal (healthy dynamic in spite of their traumas, definitely the healthiest of the pool because it's going to get odd from here), mutual pining, slow burn

Liam:

Dynamic: friends to lovers, deep emotional scars, heartbreak, second love, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, famous x normal

Elbert:

Dynamic: wallflower x obsessive personality, yandere, gothic horror (think Crimson Peak but without the-you-know-what, and I know Crimson Peak is set in the Edwardian era shhh)

Roger:

Dynamic: tough girl x bruiser, belligerent sexual tension, slap slap kiss, I think they will kill each other first and that's beautiful

Alfons

Dynamic: FWB, yandere (mc), heartbreak, second love, enemies to FWB to enemies to lovers, partners in crime, banter (note: I have two more bullet points in the doc, but they are purposely concealed for now *shifts eyes*)

Ellis:

Dynamic: 🔥age gap🔥 (older woman x younger man), yandere, everyone can see it, second chance love (6th time, actually)

Jude:

Dynamic: grumpy vs sunshine, rich vs poor, class difference, opposites attract, oblivious to love, bad boy and good girl/all girls want bad boys (also obviously bsdm dynamics)

Victor:

Dynamic: age gap (older man, younger woman), mutual pining (kinda), daddy issues, slow burn, hurt/comfort, angst

[flowersforthemachines]

ghilasara opinion on chocolate cake and chocolate ice cream? (and fave ice cream flavour?) 🥺

I abide by the Bioware canon that Rook likes chocolate, so it applies to Ghilasara. Though you know how sometimes chocolate flavour can be sweet, and sometimes bitter? She'd prefer things on the sweeter side.

If we are talking modern ice-cream flavours, she'd like something artificial, like bubblegum. If we are limited to what flavours Thedas can provide, then probably lemon or raspberry.

[nach0]

isat oc ref sheet! i ripped the profile page off mirabelle's and just edited it a bit, worked out well since she already had immune to time craft on hers

they keep to themself mostly, only coming out of their study to stargaze or run social experiments about the isla- hey wait what's happening to my ref what are you-

SECRET SECOND REF SHEET!

you thought this was a new oc, but it was the realmleaper, existing oc, the whole time!!

technically this particular one is for a noncanon timeline (aka i wanted to throw foxglove at them and see what happens) but i like this design so much i might readjust one of their stops to be similar enough this works again

why the type switch? it's more for full dragon form tbh, hard to fight holding a tiny book when you're bigger than a horse, much easier to use claws instead. it also brings over a mechanic from SASASAAP, typeless attacks! aka blast of fire directly to face

this post is long enough but send asks about them if you would like and i will happily talk about them/ their story/ their story in terms of isat specifically

[lululeighsworld]

Lorah: Lilac Knight's Love

Artist: @littledashdraws

Wanted to share this commission by Dash, who so lovingly illustrated my vision for Gunter's first wife!! Although Lorah's lived in my head since 2017, this is the first time I've had her drawn. Because I'm so thrilled over this art, I put together a little introduction for her!! you can read more about her below~

Residence: Duet Mountains Occupation: Farmer •❀• Bedside Nurse •❀• Homemaker Birthday: July 11 Gender: Female Relatives: Gunter (Husband) Katerina (Daughter)* Personality: Shy •❀• Bubbly •❀• Optimistic Hobbies: Crafting •❀• Gardening •❀• Baking Age: 21 (when she first meets Gunter) •❀• 36 (at death)

A Nohrian commoner whose known the kingdom's southern mountain range and neighbouring valleys her entire life, Lorah was a recognizable resident of her town even though she kept to herself. Learning the basics of herbal remedies from a young age, she would split her time between tending to the fields and easing the woes of the sick. In adulthood, she would chance upon meeting a Nohrian Great Knight during her town's annual spring festival. The couple's engagement, after seven years of courting, had become one of the most highly anticipated moments amongst the townsfolk.

*NOT the Nohrian Queen. I named their kid before I realized what Xander's mom's name was and by that point I was already ATTACHED (tell me Caterpillar is not the cutest nickname). So now the reason they share a name is lore relevant (which is a part of this fic!).

divider by saradika