#my self inserts are pretty plain i feel

[djotime-allthetime]

hi!!! im back 😎✌🏼 i was thinking about y/n again (she literally hasnt left my mind yet) and was wondering if you've had a particular person in mind when writing her either in personality or in appearance? in my head she looks a bit like sydney sweeney, but more european or scandi if that makes sense?

also what accent do you imagine y/n as having, cos i imagined her speaking at the panel a london accent (like me!!!), but i am curious to see how you picture y/n in your mind!!!

👋🏼

hello my love!!

to be completely frank with you,,, y/n is me and i am y/n sooooo she is a short middle eastern girl with long hair and she has an international school accent lol

but! that's the beauty of self inserts! you can imagine her as whatever your heart desires!

[arabian-batboy]

I have been in the mood to watch some Shoujo so I finally got around watching Fruits Basket since its one of the most iconic Shoujo out there and it just feels like I’m missing out on not watching it and while I’m definitely enjoying it so far, I have to admit that Yuki’s (and Kagura) annoying ass almost made me want to drop the show...

[nap-thym3]

Sebastian Solace(Pressure) x Reader/Self-Insert, Pt. 2

I actually turned that one-shot into a fic, so If you’d like to see more, I’ll be posting new updates on my ao3 :)

____________

The churning of the ocean, once a peaceful melody you may’ve played as white-noise, is now something that haunts your every waking breath. You can hear it even now. The whooshing of the currents, the bellowing of unseen gargantuan beasts, and the creaks and groans of the facility around you bending and bowing to the pressure of the torrential waters right outside.

Cautiously, you turn to survey the room surrounding yourself. The constant, oppressive darkness outside the thick windows doesn’t help your ramping unease. The idea that anything can be lurking in the inky depths, laying in wait for you to lower your guard. Watching, surveying. Hunting. Your palms sweat as your finger nails dig crescent imprints into your flesh. Every shuddering groan of the structure feels like another nail in your coffin. Darkly, you wonder just how many rooms- no, entire floors, have completely succumbed to the will of the sea by now. You can’t help but feel helpless, every avenue of your mind overtaken by the countless ways your life can be so quickly and effortlessly snuffed out.

What’s there not to be terrified of?

You scoff quietly. When you’d signed up for this gig, there was nowhere in the contracts explaining where exactly you’d be going. If you’d known the horrors residing in these waters, of being helplessly trapped thousands of feet where not even the sun can reach… you may’ve been a touch more hesitant to apply. Or who knows, maybe being confined to the same four-walled cell would’ve drove you here regardless. There was no point on dwelling on the millions of ‘what-ifs’. Your life was already considered forfeit, UrbanShade knew it, Sebastian knew it- hell, even the monsters knew so! It was only a matter of time before you were either swallowed whole, imploded, or drowned. The only one who seemed unable to get the memo was you.

You sigh, massaging your temples in a circular motion in an attempt to mitigate the encroaching migraine. There was no point in marinating in your own existential dread, you wouldn’t give UrbanShade nor its residents the satisfaction of breaking you. You’ve spent near your entire life bottling feelings up, old habits were hard to kick and you certainly weren’t going to try stopping them now.

A little more put together than a moment prior, you continue your journey. You were going to die soon. Maybe not right this second, but your chances of survival were incredibly slim, and you’d never considered yourself lucky or partial to gambling. The truth was plain and simple, inevitable. You were expendable and that was okay. It had to be. It must be. It will be.

Yawning, you passed through yet another sad-beige room. You must’ve opened twenty- no, maybe more like thirty doors?? Possibly??? Anyhow, point was, it was quiet. Disconcertingly so. The ambient hum of the overhead lights droning on had been slowly chipping away at your resolve. It was worrying how long you’ve gone without encountering any threats. Suspicious, even. Not once had you needed to make a detour, or find a key-card to progress. Rifling through the numerous desks in this zone hadn’t provided anything particularly useful either. Aside from the occasional ‘loose asset’ or two that you know The Merchant would be glad to take off of your hands. Oh, and a flash beacon! Though it was all-in-all a pretty lukewarm score. Regardless, you clipped the light-source onto your utility belt. You doubt you’d ever actually need it- not when you have your trusty flashlight and more batteries on hand than you could possibly ever need( Sebastian had given you an exponentially cheap price for those. Claiming it was more profitable to ‘sell them in bulk��� ). The monotonous repetition of pilfering office cubicles was mind-numbing, and you were sick of it.

Feeling frustrated, your pace quickens to that of a jog. Logically, you know you should be conserving your energy. It was reckless to be blindly racing through these halls, but you just couldn’t stand it anymore. If you had to die soon, so be it. But you weren’t going to just sit there like an appetizing bucket of chum and wait for death to come to you. You’d go down kicking and screaming.

Without you noticing it in your rising panic, your modest jog had turned into a run, and before you knew it, you were flying through rooms. Each one a never ending blur of the same layout. Cubicle, desk, door. Cubicle, desk, door. Cubicle, desk- chair? Chair!

Abruptly, you’re sent careening off-balance by an errant swivel-seat. When had that got there?Thankfully, you land on your side, the brunt force of your tumble distributing throughout your body evenly instead of in one specific location. Your expiration date could’ve been that much sooner if you’d somehow managed to break a bone. Stunned(kind of like how toddlers freeze before realizing if the situation calls for a meltdown or not), you remain curled in a fetal position on the floor, chest heaving with exertion. Remember when you said you weren’t an athletic individual? Yeah, that wasn’t an exaggeration.

A strangled wheeze erupts as you inch your hands up to your face, muffling your sounds of misery as pain ricochet’s throughout your body. It’d be one thing to land on carpet- but fuckity fuck, concrete?? Yeowch. God, you were so pathetic. This isn’t even the worst pain you’ve endured during your stay at the black-site. Maybe it was just your exhaustion, but all that big inner-monologuing over accepting your fate on your own terms and all that other melodramatic bogus- only to epically face-plant so soon afterwards? Ugh. Embarrassing. You lay motionless in a limp pile of limbs on the floor, gasping for air like a fish on land.

Slowly, you drag a palm down over your sweat-slicked face, before you rolling onto your front. Your ribcage digs into your organs, but you endure for the moment. Now that you’re not actively moving, you have a moment to catch your breath and scatter the panicked, adrenaline-filled haze that had clouded your mind.

As you lay there on the steadily, increasingly uncomfortable, hard floor; chin perched on your crossed arms, and epiphany strikes through you. This whole time, you’d been brainlessly pressing forward. Assuming there to be only the one way through. But when had this place ever been so simple? Perhaps all you needed was a new matter of perspective.

Just as the thought crossed your mind, your gaze snags on a vent-grille a little ways ahead of you. Similar in design to that of the ones you usually traverse through to visit Sebastian. Oh. Sebastian.

Thinking of the fish-man now, you’re filled with melancholy. Would he be upset if you just… didn’t return? The idea of Sebastian waiting for you to visit again but you never returning leaves a heavy feeling in your stomach. No, you couldn’t imagine him being so easily rattled by your disappearance, no matter how much you’d selfishly hope him to be. The more likely scenario, on the other hand? He probably wouldn’t even notice. The constant ebb and flow of UrbanShade volunteers was sure to prevent people like you from occupying his mind for any longer than necessary. And yet, even still knowing that the shopkeep realistically didn’t hold you in the same regard… you crave to be curled by his side. Goofing off and trading quips, stealing a few precious moments to yourself to pretend that everything was okay. Your brows up-turn, features scrunching not only in physical pain, but internal pain too. You had it bad. Whether it was a case of simply pack-bonding to the nearest individual, or (hopefully) something more akin to genuine connection remained yet to be seen.

Heartbeat no longer thudding in your chest, you rise up on scuffed knees, mildly cringing at the bloodied and torn fabric of your wetsuit. Without anymore fanfare, you crawl into the vent. Through a few winding turns you’re quickly spat out into, finally, a new room. Bouncing onto your feet, the heavy blast-door slides open, and you’re greeted by your typical scene rather than the looping office-space. You don’t waste anytime jumping through the frame, only twisting around in surprise when the door hurriedly slams closed. Well that’s odd, the doors normally stay open, no?

Confused, you watch as the screen, typically presenting the previous room’s number, is instead displaying a pixelated “>:(“

You incredulously snort, unsure how to proceed.

Deciding to err on the side of caution, you timidly shuffle before the entry-way.

“Hello?” You greet, yet it sounds more like a question. Honestly, you felt pretty ridiculous calling out to a door of all things.

The screen goes blank, nothing but a red, blinking cursor remaining stationary. What the fuck? Was someone actively hacking the screens? But why? How?? Were they friend or foe? Unsure, you wave a hand before the display. The cursor doesn’t move, nor do any new messages appear. A little perturbed, you rub your weary eyes. Was it a trick of the light? Or maybe a malfunction? Whatever the case may be, your intuition doesn’t like it. So far, it hasn’t led you astray. Wearily, you turn away from the peculiar door.

Walking down the corridor, you’re surrounded once again by thick plexiglass-glass. This time, however, it doesn’t just stop at little viewing windows. No, everything but the floor beneath your feet and the ceiling above was made of the same reinforced glass. You sway on your feet, suddenly nauseous and feeling entirely too exposed. You can feel your vision tunneling, everything except for the door ahead of you blurring out of focus like a low-resolution camera.

You feel as if you’re walking on a tight-rope, one step away from falling into the oppressive darkness on either side of you. Shakily, you try to focus your breathing. In and out. Concentrate on pulling oxygen. In and out .

So focused on what’s in front of you, you fail to notice as a sickly green light begins filter through the darkness.

Behind yourself, the odd little screen flickers back to life.

“Goodbye :)” It reads.

Sebastian, ever on the move, didn’t stay in one place for too long. Sure, there were a few, self-made outposts he frequented where he felt confident no friends would interrupt his business dealings. But he couldn’t rely entirely on the bumbling ex-convicts UrbanShade ‘hired’ to retrieve the information he sought. No, it was best that if he wanted things to get done right , he shouldn’t shuck the entirety of the workload onto the fools who didn’t even care for their cause. Which was exactly what he was doing.

His frequent routes through the complex weren’t typically above-ground. Neither did he rely too heavily on traversing through water. He was sore to admit it, but despite his genetic ‘enhancements’, there were much bigger fish than him lurking about the complex. Ones that didn’t bargain, nor were they nearly as susceptible to the ways of persuasion as humans were. No, just like him, his fellow test-subjects were nearly all carnivorous in nature. They all hungered so deeply, so ravenously that they rarely deigned to even take a moment to consider before lunging. No amount of shared trauma or sympathies were greater than the hollow of their stomachs. Sebastian’s expression sours.

His current path took him through the utility tunnels, a labyrinth of narrow, concrete halls that he had mapped out over countless excursions. Here, he was less likely to encounter any unwelcome reunions that roamed the more typical halls. His movements were swift and silent, honed by years of surviving in this underwater hellscape.

Body on auto-pilot, Sebastian’s thoughts drifted to you, as they so often did these days. Especially so since your last visit. Sebastian’s chest warms as he recalls the way you’d looked(admired, really) at him. As if he were anything but a monster. Of how you had called him pretty. How stupidly sincere you were, refusing to backtrack as any other sane person in your shoes would do- even as he gave you ample time to do so. He curses his tender heart, maybe the only part of him left that was well and truly human. Most days he wishes that the scientists who swapped his organs and irreparably altered his body would’ve taken his heart too. It certainly would’ve made things a lot easier.

As his mind circles back to you, a small flicker of concern breaches through the current of his thoughts. You were stubborn, he’d give you that, but how long could you really last down here? He knew UrbanShade’s plans, their blatant disregard for human life- er, life in general. Everyone down here was expendable, a pawn in their grand plan. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had grown… accustomed, of your visits. Of your banter and your resilience. It’s been so long since someone’s looked at him and seen anything else other than a ghastly experiment. You spoke with him, really spoke with him, not just at him. Plus, you didn’t even mind his crass attitude- hell! You even matched it more often than not. Most others in your place wouldn’t dare to rebuke his snark. In a cruel place devoid of connection, you were a rare exception.

He shook his head, clearing away any residual gooey ‘sentiments’. Sentimentality was a weakness he couldn’t afford. He had a mission, and attachments would only complicate things. Still, as he navigated the dark passageways, he couldn’t shake the tentative hope of being able to see you again. Wouldn’t that be nice?

There’s a great bellow somewhere above, undoubtedly from that of the ‘eyefestation’. It was one of the more ‘tame’ byproducts of the black-site’s experiments. Well, as tame as anything down here could be. It was sentient, for a start. Sebastian wasn’t sure by how much exactly, and didn’t particularly care- nor had the time to find out. What was important was that it was free of its enclosure now, all thanks to him.

Poor thing, it’s always been easily picked on by the humans. With a long, suffering sigh, Sebastian once again curses his bleeding heart. Soundlessly, he makes a detour to the upper levels.

[melancholysway]

Can you do 2007 turtles crush at first sight hc's reaction to master splinter introducing them to an old friend of his who is female ninja around their age. How would they act around them?

Of course I can! I hope this is what you had in mind :)

TMNT 2007 HC: Their reaction to their crush at first sight 💚

- “This is an old friend. You may address her as Miss Y/n.”

- “Now Splinter, you know I don’t care much for formalities. We’re about the same age, yeah?” You smile at the turtles as you stand before them; who remain bowing to you as a sign of respect.

- However, one turtle in particular picks his head back up the quickest to look at your face.

- The four brothers were expecting you. Master Splinter had informed them of an old friend- she was the daughter of one of his past Sensei’s. He felt a sense of pride introducing you to them.

- You were the product of the intense training he went through as well.

- “You can just call me Y/n. It’s nice to meet you all. Splinter has told me so much about you guys.” You go around the room, making sure to shake every one of the turtle’s hands. Each one had a different grip on your own small hand.

- “I reckon you remember the story of my Sensei my sons; Master Hisashi.” Splinter had told the four brothers countless memories from his time training under Hisashi. He learned almost everything he knew from him.

- “Is that…?” Mikey trails off.

- “His daughter, Yes.” Splinter remembered when you were just a little girl. You had been adopted by Hisashi when you were only one year old after a tragic car accident with your birth parents. Hisashi raised you and eventually trained you to become a kunoichi.

- “He taught me everything I know.” You had also made an appearance so you could spar with the turtles. Once Hisashi got in touch (finally!) with Splinter, he had to explain the mutation situation he was in years ago. HIsashi understood, of course he did.

- His former student and good friend being a rat had changed nothing. Once moving to New York, HIsashi began to visit often, fascinated by the four mutated turtles.

- Fast forward to now, you were finally able to meet them yourself.

- As you study each of the brothers, you see one of them had his eye on you longer than the rest; especially after shaking their hand.

Leonardo

He’s intrigued. He knew Hisashi had a daughter, but now, he was meeting you for the first time.

Someone forgot to mention how pretty you were

You weren’t dressed like a kunoichi, though. You weren’t wearing any fabrics that indicated so. 

You only wore black leggings and a tank top with some sneakers, your single katana in its holster strapped to your back.

He liked your simplicity, given you were here today to spar with his brothers

He couldn’t wait to spar with you btw

You walk up to him first, sticking out your hand for him to take.

His hand shake is formal

though it lasts a little longer as he enjoys the feeling of your hand touching his

His eyes look into yours, and you return his sincere smile

“I hear you’re the strong, fearless leader. Leonardo, right?” 

*Insert butterflies in his stomach*

“Y-yeah, you can call me Leo.” His self-confidence gets a sudden boost at your words. Strong? Fearless?

Yeah, that’s him honey.

He watches as you go down the line, shaking his other brother’s hands, he notices the katana behind you. Its handle is a beautiful shiny black, designed with pastel pink cherry blossoms and white branches. He looks behind his back at his own dual katanas. The handles were plain blue with some imperfections from wear and tear. It appeared your aura and beauty matched your own weapon.

You were absolutely breathtaking to him, your hair in a bun, loose strands dancing around your face. He watches your lips as they open to talk and shake the rest of his brother’s hands. 

Once you finish, you make your way back to Master Splinter who tells his sons to begin stretching for today’s training.

 “It’s rude ta stare, fearless.” Raphael jokes with a snickering Michelangelo. Leo didn’t realize how long he had been staring at you.

“I- uh.” “No need ta hide it,” Raph gets up from his spot to stretch his arms, and leaves his brother and his flushed cheeks on the opposite side of the dojo.

He wondered what your interests were; what you liked and disliked. What makes you happy, and what makes you sad. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you getting closer in his field of vision, walking right up to him. 

“Could I spar with you first, Leo?” Your voice sweetly greeted his ears like honey to a bear’s tongue. 

“I…yes, I’d love to be first.” He gets up from his spot on the floor after a few quick stretches, watching as you flash him a smile, your eyes closing as you did so.

He knew the more you came down to visit, the more he’d want to spend time with you to get to know you.

Raphael

‘She’s small.’ - Raph’s mind

He watches your body language and mannerisms. How you smile to each of his brothers, showing them all the same amount of respect.

When he sees you go up to him first to shake his hand, he’s a little shocked.

I mean, he’s the biggest turtle of the team. His biceps alone rival Donnie’s and Leo’s combined. He’s also very much aware of his RBF, which he cannot control

So, why did you come up to introduce yourself first? Wouldn’t you be at least a little intimidated by him?

His thoughts come crashing down when you finally speak to him.

“Looks like you carry the world’s problems on those sculpted shoulders of yours,” How did you see right through him? You weren’t intimidated by his resting bitch face, nor how brolic he was compared to the rest of the team.

He also wasn’t expecting you to flirt with him?

He thought- wait- were you flirting with him?

When he doesn’t say anything, you smile and stick out your hand.

“Raphael, correct?” 

“Uh, yeah. Or Raph. Whicheva you prefer.” The way his name escaped your lips was heavenly. His own gruff deep voice had clashed with your softer one. You had contrasting differences from each other, but it only made him study your face more. 

He takes your hand to shake, holding back his strength so he doesn’t crush your hand by accident. 

He likes how smaller your hand is compared to his own, too. How soft your hand was compared to his rough one. How your 5 fingers easily interlocked with his 3 digits. 

His golden eyes looked at yours, studying you and your facial features. There was no way this girl who was significantly smaller than him was a trained kunoichi.

But, you were. Splinter had told him and his brothers all the stories about Hisashi and his daughter. How talented she was in the art of ninjutsu. 

He comes to terms with this when he notices your katana strapped to your back as you walk away from him.

“Nice eyes, by the way.” You compliment absentmindedly, smiling as you went down the rest of the line to meet the next turtle.

He doesn’t say anything, though, he can’t help but keep his eyes on you. This was the second time in a matter of 5 minutes that you had flirted with him- at least that's what he thinks it was.

‘Nah, it totally was.’ He smirks as he looks you up and down, his eyes moving with your curves all the way down to your ankles. The way your eyes glanced at him every now and then, only for you to see he was smirking at you.

And soon after introducing yourself to the rest of his brothers, it was time for training. 

Raph’s body seemed to stretch out easily. He trained and exercised often, and he watched as your arms reached to touch the tips of your sneakers, watching how your calf muscles under your leggings flex as you did so. 

He walks over to you, stature looming over your stretching form. You take notice of the shadow engulfing you, turning around to look up and see the turtle in red.

“I won’t go easy on ya,” He says matter of factly. Expecting you to simply nod and go back to what you were doing, you get up to stand in front of him, his plastron almost coming into contact with your chest.

“I wasn’t expecting you to. Besides, I like a challenge.” You wink before walking away, going back to what you were doing as if what you said held no weight.

The way you looked at him, and even matched his energy? Yeah, he was ready to take you on.

Unbeknownst to you, Raphael also loves a good challenge. 

“Don’t tell me she’s got you wrapped around her finger already,” Leo says chuckling. He notices how quickly Raph turns around to deny his statement, with a snarky comment of his own.

“Yeah right, I’m head ova heels already.” He responds sarcastically. Looking back at you, now conversing with Donatello, he chuckles to himself. 

He wasn’t wrapped around your finger. Yet. It was going to take more than flirting and winks to get him under your spell.

Donatello

This turtle is nervous at first. Donnie is intimidated by women. He’s grew up with his brothers his whole life, that the thought of a woman gets him in a twist.

His reaction to meeting you isn’t the same as how he met April. He had this awkward one-sided crush on her that he never acted upon. His brothers knew, of course. He was such a nerdy shy turtle that would blush every time April gave him a hug.

This crush was short-lived, though. Once Casey came into the picture, he kept his feelings in. 

Surprisingly, he got over April fairly quickly.

Now, 2007 Donnie doesn’t fall head over heels at first sight. He takes a moment before acting on impulse. 

‘Pretty.’ He thinks as he looks at you. You’re standing so confident beside Splinter that he has no choice but to admire you. After hearing so many stories of Hisashi’s daughter, you were now standing in front of him, ready to shake his hand. 

Donnie is shy, he awkwardly sticks out his hand, and when you touch his, he can’t help but blush. His cheeks dusted pink from physical contact with you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Donatello.” Your pretty smile just compliments the rest of your face that Donnie can’t help but stumble on his words. 

“O-Oh, please, um…call me Donnie, or Don! Whichever.” Stupid! He mentally curses at himself. For once could he just act a little confident?

“Donnie…that’s a cute name for a genius.” Cue Donnie smiling like an idiot. You knew about him thanks to talking to Splinter. You knew Donnie was the most intelligent turtle out of the four. He had the power to make nothing into something great. He was truly an underrated member of the team.

“Ha…genius is a little…I wouldn’t say…well,” He’s stuttering and puts a hand behind his neck for comfort. He can hear Mikey snickering to his left side. 

But, you were right. Donnie was a genius. His name was also pretty cute, too. 

He thought you were cute btw

Despite being intimidated by you, your hand was soft, and it shook his gently. He notices the way your hand feels on his own, and he breaks the shake before his cheeks catch on fire from how nervous he is. 

His brown eyes continue to watch you even after introductions. How you begin stretching nearby, as he tries to focus on his own body.\

He’s admiring you. From what he’s heard, you were a highly trained kunoichi. The thought of you in battle piqued his interest. Not only that, but he wondered how much damage such a pretty girl like you could do.

Donnie wasn’t exactly the strongest, and he was afraid he would make a fool of himself during sparring (Splinter brought ‘The Hat’ out, meaning that he would pick names from a Yankees baseball cap to see who would spar with who.) 

He was hoping, praying he didn’t get paired with Raph first. 

He’s so lost in his anxious thoughts that he doesn’t notice you pick up his bo staff from beside him. 

“I can’t wait to see what you can do with this,” You say. He looks up at you from his spot on the floor, watching in admiration as you spin it around like a color guard from a marching band. 

“You’ve mastered the bo staff, yeah?” You ask, placing it in his open hands. 

‘Keep it cool, Donnie.’

“Yeah, it was a little hard at first, since it’s just a piece of wood.” He notices you sit down next to him, continuing to stretch. 

He gets a little more comfortable talking to you. You weren’t towering over him, and it eased him up a bit. 

“I mean, I can’t remember how many times Foot soldiers laughed at me when they saw me pull it out during a fight.” He admits. It was true, he was the laughingstock amongst new Foot Soldiers who hadn’t fought him yet. However, he would quickly show him he was not the one to mess with. 

“I’d love to see you fight, Donnie.” You flash him a smile, patting him on the shell. Your voice is so modulated and pleasant to listen to. 

You were gonna be the death of him.

Michaelangelo

He thinks you’re cute. 

Totally cute

He’s so giddy and excited to meet you, but he’s also a little nervous.

He wasn’t the best fighter on the team, but he was the glue that kept them together during tough times. When they need a push or a lighthearted moment after a serious one, they look to Mikey for that relief.

“What’s up, Kunoichi dudette!” Mikey’s handshake is playful like himself. He’s also not really into formalities, so he lets you know right off the bat you can call him Mikey. 

“I never met a kunoichi before! This is so cool~” 

“Yes we have Mikey. Karai.” Donnie says factually. Mikey scoffs and smiles.

“She doesn’t count. Y/n’s one of the good guys, right?” You nod in agreement. Hisashi had told you about Karai who also was a trained Kunoichi. The only difference between you two ladies was that you stood on different beliefs. Karai was cold, brash, and dangerous. 

You were the opposite. If it came down to it conflict wise, you could handle your own. Mikey didn’t think you looked deadly or dangerous at all.

He wants to get to know you. You’re the third human girl he’s met! He wants to know a lot about your life as a Kunoichi. 

He’s surprised at how easy it is to talk to you. Mikey can get really giddy and excited when talking to people, but he likes the way you respond and bounce off of what he says. 

“Nunchucks? You’ve got to show me how to use them!” You smile and giggle as Mikey is clearly trying to impress you with his dual weapon. He’s swinging them around quickly and doing a few tricks he’s learned. 

“They’re really easy, just look at how- ow!” You watch as Mikey bonks himself on the head with one of his nunchucks, wincing from the pain on the floor.

“Are you okay?” You place a hand on his shoulder, and suddenly, he’s up and at em’ like it never happened.

“I’m okay! Don’t worry everyone!” He announces to his family. 

“Don’t worry! We ain’t worryin’!” Raphael replies from the other side of the dojo.

Smiling at Mikey, you excuse yourself to your own spot in the room. As you unsheathe your katana, he can’t wait to see you use it.

He watches in awe as you practice on your own before sparring in a corner by yourself. With your katana in hand, he’s watching how easily your body flows with each swift movement. 

“She’s like an angel…” He says dreamily. Unlike Raph’s hard exterior, Mikey’s was soft. 

He would be wrapped around your little finger in an instant. 

//

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[wiktorianala]

My oc's + characters they were based of in one way or another

I got bored of sewing, maybe gonna continue on weekend, but anyway i decided that it's time to make smthng more with Bouney 'n Handy so there's a lil drawings and if someone is interested in me yapping about them, story, 'n other stuffs then click here \/

Oki, so I'll start with at which point they were based of well, Salad and Madotsuki. Starting from Handy because this will take me less time. She was created waaay later, at moment when I wanted to start working on comic, so I had to make second character just so Bouney wouldn't be only one, well i wanted to make her an object head of some kind to match with the fact that Bouney's head was created out of rotated eye. It is not anymore but that was honestly how I created this little freak. Fine but coming back to topic I wanted to give her some kind of object, and I'm honestly shit when it come to making any decisions myself, so with my friend we just looked throught my entire sketchbook and we found drawing of Madotsuki with hand palm effect (because I was pretty much fixated over this game and bigger part of sketchbook had Yume Nikki drawings), so we just picked hand. Now, with Bouney it's longer story, just like I said, I created him way earlier, so first thing he got after Salad were simple plain clothes 'cuz I'm layzy and absolutelly didn't wanted to bother with drawing anything complicated over and over again (and I picked Salad, because once again, yes it was my fixation at that time, and I want to remind that thos are two different times btw). So at the point when I wanted to start making thos comics and when I already had character designs I had to give them personalities and story, and the story... it was pretty different from what it is now. First vershion of it was too about a empty world and all thos stuffs, this didn't change, but main difference was the fact that in earlier ver Bouney was only living creature in this world. Handy was more of some kind of imaginary friend that appeared in his head due to loneliness there. (this a bit was based out of Salad too, because, ya know, empty weird world, clearly not very sane main creature character 'n thos stuffs) Plot mostly was just like in current vershion pretty goofy 'n just some "everyday stuffs", but at some points it was getting pretty heavy and sad. AND YES I KNOW THAT IT SOUNDED MUCH MORE INTERESTING, honestly at some point even I liked it more in this way, but there were two main reasons why I changed it. First one, fact that Handy wasn't really a physical person caused some technical writing issues that maybe been not that hard to fix, but as once already I said- I'm layzy, so I didn't wanted to be bothered by them. And now second and honestly more important reason (at least for me), it was time when I was making 2nd re-write of "Fragments of Sanity" plot (rn I'm working on 3rd, and I hope last one, because I want to finally make it into comic too) and I mean first version of it was pretty, well sad (I can't really find better word for it), but on second version? Oh boy, let me tell ya this shit is even worse (and main reason for this is probably because I dunno when but Mike ended up being at least in his personality and behavior (not by plot) a bit of self insert). So I didn't really wanted both of my projects to be like that, and I wantd at least one of them to be one with wich I could more goof around, so yeah, I've changed it. Well I guess that's all I wanted to say? I dunno. I know that in 95% no one is about to read this, but anyway I feel at least better when I can yap somewhere about some certain stuffs, and hey, ain't that for what blogs even exist? For people to yap, and do stuffs they like? Damn after writing for such a long time about them I guess I have a need rn to finish this god damned 3rd chapter. So yeah, now that's all.

[xenon-demon]

I fucking love pretty much every version of the “celebrity x Just Some Guy™” trope that there is for Steddie, but in honor of having a totally reasonable amount of wine I’m going to tell you about the version I’m currently thinking about all the time, one of my dumbest yet also funniest AU concepts: modern!AU with streamers Steve & Robin and Hardcore Fan™ Eddie who writes reader-insert fic about Steve.

Steve and Robin, aka EvenStevens and BirdBox_ on Twitch (“My name is spelled with a P-H, Robin, that’s such a stupid name.” “No, it’s actually even better this way! You don’t want to just use your real government name for something like this, and you would just make your username ‘SteveHarrington01′ or something equally uninspired-”) frequently stream together and have a shared YouTube channel. They got popular doing reaction videos that quickly devolve into the pair of them bickering on camera, and since the internet just loves the ‘snarky woman and her emotional support himbo’ dynamic, they got very big, very quick. Plus, it certainly doesn’t hurt that they had the combined might of Dustin and Erica to help them bend the algorithm to their whims.

While most people recognize their platonic-with-a-capital-P soulmatism, there are still some that are convinced they’re secretly dating - they can’t decide if it’s hilarious or absolutely maddening that every time they try to disprove the rumors, they somehow get stronger. Robin doesn’t feel comfortable coming out to the internet yet, and without that trump card some people just can’t understand why they’re not dating.

...there are other sections of their fandom, however, that absolutely do believe they’re not dating. Mainly because they’d rather be dating Steve or Robin (or both!) themselves, and write all the reader-insert fanfiction you could ever possibly need about it. Robin is largely ambivalent to the concept of fanfiction being written about herself as long as they’re not writing smut, since at least that way they’re not insisting she’s dating Steve.

Steve on the other hand finds it absolutely hilarious how despite how much he’s changed, he’s back to being the heartthrob he used to be in high school - and, he’ll be honest, he thrives on the attention. He’s given everyone the green light to write whatever they want - dared them to make it raunchier, even - to the point where it’s a running joke that Steve will read your reader-insert fanfiction about him unless you tag it with some form of ‘Steve don’t look’. He even used the prevalence of fic about himself to come out on stream.

(Steve’s in the middle of re-organizing his flower field in Animal Crossing when he’s interrupted by a donation. “Hey Steve, really sorry to tell you this but people are writing porn about you... and they’re making it gay. Like writing about you getting fucked by a dude. Just wanted you to know so you can say something about it.”

Steve stops dead, his screen freezing on his open inventory. “Hey, uh, why the fuck would I have a problem about a fictional version of me bottoming? Or- wait, do I seriously give off homophobic vibes? I’m literally bisexual. Hey Dustin, can you ban that guy please? Christ, the nerve of some people. If that’s how you feel about people being gay, or about people writing things that I’ve already said I have no problem with, you can leave this stream right now because I don’t want you here.“)

Many people lost their minds after that stream, one of them being popular tumblr blog whorefireclub.

Eddie didn’t plan on starting a tumblr blog for self-insert fanfiction about a twitch streamer. Really he didn’t, and every time he thinks about it in terms that plain he kind of dies a little on the inside. It’s really all Gareth’s fault, for getting fed up with Eddie’s dumb parasocial crush on a streamer and daring him to just “get it out of his system already”. So, using a bare-bones anonymous tumblr and many, many beers as his cover story, Eddie posted some of the most quickly written and unedited pieces of writing he’s ever produced in his life.

Except he wrote it with an AMAB reader character - and for those of you unfamiliar with the reader-insert sphere, that’s like fucking hen’s teeth. People are pretty good at making things gender neutral at least in their descriptions, and sometimes the anatomy is vague enough that it’s ambiguous, but the majority is written with AFAB genitalia for the reader character.

Eddie’s little drunken post blows up, and at first, he’s never regretted a life choice more.

After thinking about it, and seeing just how many people left comments with their reblogs or came into his askbox directly to thank him for giving them the representation they wanted, he starts to feel a bit better about the whole thing. In fact, it kind of tickles his “protector of the outcasts” instincts; there are people who can’t enjoy the content they want to because it doesn’t gel with their anatomy or gender identity. Eddie could, hypothetically, if he wanted to be absolutely insane about this one hot streamer guy, help fix that problem somewhat.

A couple of months later and he’s become “the guy who writes inclusive reader-insert fic”. While a fair amount of his work is gender-ambiguous, both in anatomy and in avoiding gendered language, more than half is written for anyone who finds themselves underrepresented in the usual reader-insert scene; anyone AMAB, AFAB people who can’t do female language, he’s even written a few oneshots with intersex reader characters. He did research for it and everything. It’s certainly not how he planned for this to work out, but it’s actually kind of... nice. He’d written a lot of fanfiction in his youth, mainly about Lord of the Rings and Star Trek, and while this isn’t how he’d imagined returning to the hobby it’s actually really fun. (It’s making his celebrity crush on Steve a million times worse, of course, but he’s in denial about that so it’s totally fine.)

He’s a little shit, so his blog header has - underneath his personal details - a PSA that reads “Steve, don’t look at this unless you have the balls to shout me out on stream ;)”. Eddie thinks he’s absolutely hilarious.

Right up until he wakes up to find his following has exploded overnight, and upon checking his DMs from his mutuals realizes that - oh shit - that bastard actually did it and talked about his blog on stream.

And Steve said he liked it. Steve likes the porn that Eddie wrote about him. Jesus H. Christ, Eddie is so unfathomably fucked.

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

if this were to exist as a fic it would be told through social media posts/DMs. one of those fics that uses unconventional (i.e. non-prose) formatting, you know the ones. the concept actually came from the fact I fucking LOVE fics like that, I’m a slut for any of that House of Leaves-type shit. one time I read a fic that consisted of 8 short stories and each one had a HTML puzzle you had to solve to be able to read it, e.g. one you had to highlight because the text was in white, another you needed to hover your mouse over to make it scroll through the text - I can’t remember the rest but it was SO COOL.

(or, to put this another way, I read homestuck at a formative age and it forever changed how I feel about formatting stories.)

[ofmermaidstories]

hi merms, i hope you’re doing great. i’m sorry if this is different from your usual asks but i wanted to ask you, since you are literally blog goals, but how can i be more like you and enjoy my own blog? i love how you’re so free in your own space and express yourself, and you’re just full of happiness and all the bright, good things. going to your blog always makes me smile. its like you spread joy and warmth so easily. is it weird i feel more at home with your blog 😭 i wish i could enjoy my blog too, but sometimes drama makes the experience un-fun, like mean anons, or worse, your own readers constantly putting you in weird competition with your own writer friends over things you and your friends never even noticed before. i know the easy answer is to just ignore the haters and enjoy writing, and i really love writing, but its hard sometimes. i wish i could make my blog feel as homey as yours. visiting your page is like comin home to fresh hot chocolate after a long day of work 💐 thats all luv, sending you lots of love always 🌸

oh anon. i’m sorry. 🥺 i am sitting with you and we will piece this out together though, okay? 🧩 it’s hard! i’ve actually been feeling kind of dejected, lately, like with tumblr in general and my usage of it—because i haven’t been using it like i used to! so i guess that’s the first thing: to figure out what you want out of it, and then figure out what it takes to make it happen. for me i enjoy this place most when i’m treating it like a scrapbook: quotes or pictures that inspire me, asks, things i doodle. the pros of that: you fill your space with stuff you love, or that means something to you! the cons: it can be a little isolating if the stuff you love, or the things that mean something to you, aren’t like… current writing or posting trends, lmao. but it all just depends on what you value! 🥺 i’m not a fast writer, and tend to favour long-term projects, so while it sometimes makes me sad when i fall out of the loop of things, ultimately i just accept (or try to) that that’s how i work in this space. 🥹 as mama cass said, sometimes you just gotta make your own kinda music.

drama makes everything boring! and tbh i think my biggest cheat with that is that i only follow a relatively small amount of x reader blogs. 🥹 that’s not intentional; i curate a pretty strict feed based on my other interests, though, so there ends up being a lot of competition for my attention. 🥺 the pros of this is that i tend to miss most discourse that happens (lmao). the con is that i tend to miss everything else, too, though. 🥹 you basically have to choose whichever bothers you less lmfaooo. and even then—drama or meanness or plain old weirdness will still find it’s way to you. 🥺 i think that’s just the unforch reality of being on social media. especially in a niche that’s so… driven by something as personal as literally self-inserting, and dependant on the validation of others. 🥺 i’m sorry people have made you feel like you’re in competition with your friends! it sucks, because i think we as writers like… live in our own heads, lmao. we know so much about the worlds and characters we’re trying to write. but people outside of our heads don’t—think the same way! 🥺 they will draw comparisons where maybe we don’t want them to. 🥺 i think that’s a natural response, tbh; especially if they love something, and see work with like, a similar theme or tropes, but despite it being a compliment it doesn’t always feel great. 🥹 i guess the only advice (and reminder, for myself) i can offer is that you and your friends aren’t in competition—but rather thrown into the same maze together. 🥺 the only way out is to hold hands to make sure none of you get lost, and walk through. 🥹

anon!!! 🥺 i hope you find a way to make your blog feel more homely. you’re always welcome here—the door’s always open for the sunlight and the bees—but i want you to feel like the important part of the neighbourhood you are! 🥺 and safe enough that you can leave your door open, too. 🪟🎐🌾

[annoyingenthusiastperfection]

Summary : Hobie found more about you

Warnings :None , except horrible writting of accent sorry.

Toy Keeper

Hobie furiously knocked in your window . "Hey , Man let me in I'm dying out here" You looked at him unimpressed. "It's to early for this go back home Spiderman" Hobie icks at the name "It's spider punk , geezer so let me in before I lick your face off" Rolling your eyes you let him in.

"Whats this excuse for staying over now? " opening the window for him his dirty shoes leaving mud marks. "Just the loud pop trash music in my building." He said sinking into your bed like he owns it. "Did you try talking to them?" Hobie snorted "U kidding? Its a part hell no they gonna lower ot down for a noise complaint " he cuddles with your pillow it scent felt comforting to him. He never really got to know you since the only reason you guys become friends was just cause u saw him under the mask by accident.

"Hey (y/n) what was your childhood like?"Hobie asked without thinking.You looked at him funny "I am not sure you can relate to (insert your country/city name) experience but I think it was pretty normal." Hobie furrowed his brows "Your not from here?" You picked a family picture of your parents and relatives . "Nope" "I never knew" He stammered feeling a sting . " What else u hiding?" He asked jokingly yrying to ease him self.

"I have nothing to hide " As you said that Hobie fell of your bed finding.....

Toys?

They were in clear containers showing every single piece inside be it my little pony , ninja turtes , power ranger , ever after high , and more he doent know . "What are these hidding in plain sight?" You turned your back to Hobie blushing.

"(Y/n) are these your toys?" You threw a pillow at his face "So what? They have sentimental value!" Well this is a start of getting to know them more.

"Aww little toy keeper emberassed?" Another pillow hit his face as his laughter echos around the room. "YOU BETTER NOT TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS!""HAHAHAHAHAH"

The night ended as the day begins

[ciaossu-imagines]

No offence but why should people have to pay for stuff from you when 99% of creators on here would post the same things for free

Well, I really debated just deleting this. I really did. Or plain out blocking this anon. Because I really do try to ignore negativity in the inbox, truly, and normally do delete it. But I'll answer this one, in a mo', after I first say...putting no offense in front of an ask that is meant to be rude, to either hurt my feelings or make me feel bad, doesn't suddenly make it inoffensive. In fact, pretty much guaranteed that if you feel the need stick 'no offense' in front of something, you know it'll be offensive, or at the very least, rude, and you're trying to excuse a dick move. Question too...are you sending this ask to every fanartist accepting commissions too, or just the writers? My guess is a solid no, but hey, maybe you can prove me wrong.

Next point - nobody should be paying me anything right now. My commissions are temporarily closed. I'm not really accepting any at the moment because I'm on day 10 of a stretch of 12 days at work before I have one day off, after which I pull another 12 days before I get 2 whole days off. I'm struggling to find time to finish the two commissions I do have and to write to build up the queue on here again so I can continue to put out things on here again. I'm pulling at least one all-nighter a week just to make progress on those two things.

Again - free stuff. Because I definitely do offer lots of that. Commissions are done on top of me writing plenty for free, not instead of. It's simply not as long, or as detailed, and has rules around what I'll comfortably write.

Now onto actual commissions. All but two of the commissions I've handled have been incredibly personalized, either match ups for the actual person on the other side of the screen or working with people's self-inserts or OCs. The two that weren't were for incredibly rare pairs that don't have a lot of people writing for them (ShouheixYata from K Project and Sherlock Holmes (novel version) x Hiruma Yoichi from Eyeshield 21. Please show me even 5% of tumblr routinely putting out content for those pairings because I would enjoy reading anything from them.

For my match ups, smutty ones are at least 5 pages, while romantic and platonic ones have never gone below 7 pages and have, at times, gone as long as 15 pages and include intensely thought out explanations of why they're compatible with that character, what the relationship would be like, how the commissioner fits into the Canon universe, and at least 3, usually more other characters they could be compatible with, how those characters would know the commissioner and fit into their story and why the relationship might not work. I struggle to find blogs willing to do matchups even half that length and intricacy so please, direct me to the 95% of writers that will do that for free.

For my stories, the shortest I've done was 10 pages where I made a whole $1 per page. The longest has been 65 pages where I made $50. They all also come with a music mix and a storyboard with alternate ways the story could have gone and at least 5 new headcanons about the OC and the ship. Please, again, direct me to the 95% of tumblr writers willing to do that for someone else's self-insert ship or OC ship for free, of that length, with the extras. Most writers I know might occasionally write a friend's OC but not just anyone's and usually not 30-60 pages for them.

Long story short, I don't force anyone to commission me. If you don't want to and just want to enjoy the free stuff, that's perfectly cool with me! If you don't like that I take commissions, block me. If you feel everything I write is so generic and boring that 95% of other writers have wrote the exact same thing, my blog isn't for you, block me.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for abandoning my WIP?

Hello everyone! You'll have to forgive me if this is a bit awkward... I am a writer and cosplayer, but nonfiction is really not one of my talents!

So umm... I started this project, some months ago. A real masterpiece! You see, I'm actually pretty internet-famous for my earlier works, so this time I tried something a bit more... exciting. To raise the stakes and add to the delicious drama of it all, I decided this latest project would use real people.

Aaaah, and they were absolutely perfect! I wrote up incredible backstories for them all, and I even added an artificial intelligence unit that my best friend put together for a touch of extra realism (the illusion of an audience was crucial for this project, so the AI predicted "votes" and "chat responses" based on commentary on my previous projects)! Then, finally, I wiped their memories and replaced them with my own writing, set them up in my ultimate fictional world, and watched their real, authentic decisions play out! I, and my best friend, participated in this project, but I did have to wipe her memory along with everyone else's... or else she'd remember building this virtual world machine! And that just wouldn't do.

So, well.... The first few tries were a little bothersome to work with. No matter how hard I tried to tweak their personalities and give them motives, they always ran out of time and left me having to reset! But, ah... I knew from the start that working with real dolls would have its challenges. That's where the stakes are! If I could just overcome this, it would be the best death game ever written!

So eventually, when my beloved first protagonist actually made an attempt to kill... and failed... I stepped in and finished the job. Just a little bug in the system, not a big deal. And from there, it was absolutely perfect! Death after death after death, everything lining up exactly as it should. The perfect drama, the perfect despair, exactly as it should be!

I continued to moderate from within the game, and luckily, no one even tried to kill me! Though, my self-insert was simply a boring old plain jane, so it's not exactly surprising....

There were a few tough spots... and right when I thought the project was tying itself up for a beautiful finish, one of my players somehow ended up convincing the AI to release us, and send us back to reality.

Now... everyone is quite mad at me for placing them in my incredible fictional reality. None of them are certain who they are, or which of their memories are real, and normally I would simply overwrite their memory and start over again, but... here is where I might be TA....

I believe that one of the characters I've written, as played by a very beautiful and talented person, has taken my heart. She was one of the first to be killed, but instead of anger like everyone else, she held my face and told me that her god has forgiven my sins!

Aaaah! I can't help but squee just thinking of it! How can one person be so talented, so beautiful, so charming?! The way I'm feeling, I might as well be a yuri protagonist!

So, well... now I'm reluctant to start over. This girl is technically a character of my own creation, or at least her memories are. But after so much effort, and sacrifice, and torment endured by the other 14 participants... WIBTA if I give up on my project to elope with this girl?? She wants to lead a cult in my name, which I find just sooooooo romantic and hard to turn down!! But should I instead press onwards, and continue writing my perfect story??

[submitted by @mx-shingujis based on a canon-deviant au fic idea that I will probably never get around to writing!]

[cheerful-sixears]

Running To Your Heart When You're Thinking Of…

STATUS: Unfinished; will most likely remain unfinished. [why? because it was started at a horrid time of my life. plain and simple.]

FANDOM: Transformers: Bayverse

PROMPT: “I pushed everyone away because they weren’t you”

SONG INSPIRATION: Sleep Token-Aqua Regia 

PAIRING: Ironhide (Bayverse) x OC (Self Insert)

After a long, strenuous drive through the city, riddled with anxiety and emotional struggles, Killian arrogantly thrusted the vehicles’ passenger door open and whimpered in a very stressed, overwhelmed manner. He said nothing as he walked over to the old, roughed-up barn on the abandoned property that he, strangely though in Keely-fashion, claimed as a “safe space”. It was an unusual choice, but it held strong feelings of safety to him, and that’s what mattered in the end. The vehicle behind him began to shapeshift-rather-transform and knelt down behind him, placing his brutish arm around Killian’s person as a barrier to keep him from moving any further away. Keely grumbled  and stomped his foot, his muscles tensed and braced with clenched fists. He turned around with an almost irate, yet pleading expression, “Just let me go, please? It’s not like you wanted to stay here, anyway,” 

The mech snorted with an irritable whirring rumble, almost offended by the young man’s words. Ironhide, his assigned guardian, stood upright for a moment, leaned down further to Keely’s

 level and held back an annoyed, rumbling growl-at least attempted to-but in the end it seemed to have slipped, “I do not understand, why are you so angry at me? Why do you push everyone away and expect me to make it better? I am your guardian, not your-” Before he could finish his heated retort, Killian stomped his foot again, and bared his teeth in what looked like….agony. Sheer agony. The emotional pain that Ironhide began reading brought a sudden ache to his own spark.

“I pushed everyone away because they weren’t you.--Optimus? Ratchet? Bumblebee? I don’t want them. I want YOU. I have this aching in my chest….it’s not physical pain…it’s this…weird, sickening feeling that i get everytime you’re around. I just want to be with you….You ever get that sensation? Where someone is literally your life because you only live to see them smile? Laugh? Maybe even cry?....You’re that person, Ironhide. You’re MY person….” At this point, Killian was sputtering and sobbing. He was near incoherent at the end of his desperate point made. Gasping, tearful and shamefully covering his face with visibly shaken hands, his anguish and anger spilled from his trembling lips in bursts of sorrowful whimpers and gasps.

Taken aback, Ironhide swallowed hard. His chords were strained as he attempted to form his next words with caution. He was lucky his previous sentence was cut short. He knew then, from experience, his words would’ve caused more damage than good. He was an expert in combat and weapon’s specialist, but a spark-mate? He never thought twice about that…with a human. It never once crossed his mind, until he thought about Killian’s words. His optics traced Keely for further emotional analysis, but he wasn’t Ratchet, so that was pretty pointless. Empathy was not his specialty, neither was human emotion, but something nagged him in the back of his processors. It was a desperate voice within the workings of his spark. It yearned for him to speak, to catch the young man before he fell. It desperately spoke the obvious phrase, “save him.”

[imaginemyshipswithme]

Story snippet from an AU of my self ship where @selinas-ships sister insert exists

AO3 link

Emlyn knew xey probably shouldn’t be wandering the castle, even if she did have some permission. Zane’s only real rule being not to go into his private quarters, not wanting snoops to acquire personal information about him. He was a generally private person. Though xey decided to entertain xemself with a walk around the castle.

Xey didn’t know what possessed xem to go a little deeper, but xey were feeling adventurous today and rounded the corner before xey spotted the staircase xey hadn’t noticed before. Curiosity had xem moving towards it, wondering where it led. Walking up the stairs, xey eventually happened upon a plain, wooden door. Xey try the knob, to find it was unlocked.

Opening the door, xey came upon what looked to be an attic of some kind. Intrigued, xey walked in and begin looking around. There were many old decorations and family heirlooms. It seemed pretty normal, if not crowded from how much stuff seemed to be crammed up here.

As xey continue to look around, xey found a large portrait lean against the wall. Xey walked a bit closer to get a better look. It was a family portrait of the Ro’Meave family. It was partially covered by a tarp, but xey could easily make out each person. Garte standing tall and stoic with Garroth and Vlad on either side of him. Zianna was mostly covered by the tarp with a younger Zane beside her. Emlyn smiled, intrigued by what appeared to be a happy royal family.

That was when something caught xeir eye. Someone’s hand seems to be on Zane shoulder and it didn’t look like his mother‘s hand. As carefully as xey could, Emlyn pulled on the tarp until it fell onto the ground what xey saw was definitely a young girl. Her hand was the one on Zane’s shoulder, while the girl’s other hand held Zianna‘s from behind.

The girl in the portrait had to be family, but xey don’t remember Zane ever mentioning a sister. With all the distain he felt for his brothers and father, xey were actually surprised he never brought her up. Did something happen to her?

(Timeskip)

Emlyn stood beside Zane as the Shadow Knights debrief him. Xey couldn’t really focus on what was being said. Curiosity plagued xem once again xey hadn’t even noticed the shadow knights leave until Zane address xem by name.

Emlyn immediately snap back to the present. “Hm? My apologies, what did you say?”

Zane just seems to sigh in slight annoyance as he looked at xem. “All right out with it. You clearly have something on your mind.”

Emlyn nearly flinched in embarrassment. Xey hadn’t realize xey were being any kind of obvious. He wasn’t going to like xeir answer, but since he asked, xey decided to get the answer xey were seeking.

“I want to start by apologizing. I may have taken the opportunity to explore the castle a bit,” xey paused, giving him a moment to digest what xey had said. He seemed only to remain neutral so xey continued. “So, I seemed to have stumbled upon your attic. My question is, who is the girl I saw in your family portrait? I don’t recall you ever mentioning having a sister.”

Emlyn waited for his reaction. Xey expected him to be mad at xem, to yell at xem about snooping around or to dismiss the question entirely. His unsettling silence did not reassure xem that he was not upset with xem. So when he finally did speak, xey were surprised when his tone was oddly calm.

He sighs, heavy and vaguely sad, "... my sister is a subject I don't often broach.” He seemed to pause trying to collect his thoughts. “Of all my siblings, Vivian was my favorite. Unfortunately, we lost her, during a storm at sea. When she died... she took the sun with her." He looked at xem with such a somber expression. This was different from when he spoke of his brothers. He must’ve really cared for her.

Emlyn felt a jab at her own heart. There was someone this man had cared about, loved even. What xey wouldn’t give to see a glimpse of what that Zane looked like. “She sounds like she was truly a treasure. I’m sorry for your loss.”

He seemed to just stare at her for a moment before he gives a dismissive huff, averting his gaze to the nearest window. “It’s all in the past now. I chose to pave way for a more prospective future.”

[silverefflux]

The First Meet

Chapter 1 of my new König x Fem!OC fic, Rush

See Chapter List

Photo by Fred Austin Photography

Summary: A private jet pilot flies her boss to Austria and hangs around for three weeks. She gains a new friend during a hike. You already know what's next.

Warning/s: A bit of explicit language; König has an established real name here; pretty much a self-indulgent (yes, self-insert) fic, so sorry in advance

. . .

Back to You // Lost Frequencies, Elley Duhé, X Ambassadors

Bobbing her head to the steady four-on-the-floor beats echoing inside her helmet, Kate rode her motorbike across the winding roads of the Austrian Alps. The cold morning breeze worked against her music though, subtly reminding her that she could be sound asleep at this hour, if not for the long ride to the hiking spot in her itinerary.

Nevertheless, she loved every second. In fact, it was all she could ask for at the moment—cruising at your own pace and singing without a care while the snow-capped mountains keep you company. She passed a couple of rock tunnels and couldn’t be more grateful likening herself to a speck of dust amidst the mass of the earth, one with the nature she is traversing.

A while after, a loud car horn awoke her from the trance of a blissful groove. She glanced sideways at the open window of an SUV matching her speed. A little boy was waving at her. She revved her bike and waved back, her heart warmed by the small interaction. Afterwards, the car zoomed away.

All this on a Wednesday? This is the fucking life, she thought.

Soon, she reached her destination. She slowed to a stop at a parking lot, scanning for a spot, preferably one that keeps her bike from hitting someone else’s car should it be knocked down. That was an easy find though; there weren’t a lot of tourists on a weekday morning. If there was anything she truly worried about, it was her bike’s noise drawing unnecessary attention in a quiet place like Tyrol. As soon as she set the kickstand down and stowed away her riding gear, she began her hike.

Choosing the scenic way up, she marched up a multitude of stone steps for two hours in a continuous steep climb, alternating between walking and stopping by to take pictures of the view.

Eventually, her stops became her excuses to rest. Every step she took grew heavier, as was her breathing. The air gradually thinned and she soon realized that as active as she was, the hike wasn’t going as perfectly as she had hoped.

Maybe it’s the ride? Should I have spent the night somewhere halfway? She reckoned that she must’ve overestimated herself. Flaws of the confident, I guess, she shrugged.

Giving herself a second to breathe, she powered back through—only to stop again.

Nope, not happening, she relented as her exhaustion got the best of her. She slumped over with her hands on her knees, took a deep breath, and exhaled with a yell to try and get herself back up. Some feet ahead of the trail, two men looked back at her and started whispering.

“Verzeihung!” she squeaked, flinching and raising her hand apologetically. One of the men said something to the other with a cheeky smile, and the other responded with a slap on the former’s shoulder.

Her eyes widened and her cheeks glowed red. God, who else heard that? She decided to turn away and stand by a ledge to spare herself from feeling any more like that one obnoxious tourist. She ate a granola bar from her bag to occupy herself and took redundant photos as she waited for the longest 5 minutes of her life.

“Hallo, sprechen Sie Englisch?” asked a voice from behind.

She looked towards the voice to find that it belonged to one of the men up the trail. A tall Asian guy who looked to be in his late thirties. He wore a teal hiking backpack with an all-black outfit of running shorts and a plain dri-fit shirt that fit his form well. To top it off, he didn’t look tired at all, which gave Kate the impression that he was highly athletic—or simply not a novice hiker.

“Yeah, hi,” she responded.

“Nice, my friend over there just got a little concerned,” he said with a tiny smirk, gesturing to his companion who stood quite a ways up and staring off elsewhere. Kate noticed that the man didn’t have an Austrian accent, which somehow soothed her unease over her seeming ignorance.

She cringed at herself. “Oh…gosh, I’m sorry about the noise,” she said with nervous laughter. As nice as their concern was, it just confirmed to her that she was an obvious newbie.

The man chuckled. “Don't be. Care to join us?”

Welp, company would definitely make this easier, save for the fact that they were the ones who giggled at you earlier. “Sure,” she beamed anyway.

Kate tagged behind the man as they walked towards his buddy. “This route’s a little more challenging, yeah?” he spoke lightheartedly.

“Uh huh. First hike.” she faltered.

“Not a bad choice. The view makes up for the long climb,” he replied with a stern voice.

As they closed in on his buddy, her immediate impression was that as tall as the first man was, the second one? Even more so. A fair-skinned man whom she guessed must’ve been around 7 feet tall, if not close. Contrary to the “concern” that the first man mentioned, his buddy met them with a straight face, concealed by a gray face mask. “This is my friend, Dominik,” he introduced him. “Kate”, she responded back, offering to shake Dominik’s hand. He accepted and nodded, albeit his eyes narrowing and his hand being a little cold, which she brushed off as due to the weather.

“Ah–and I’m Hong-jin,” he chimed in, enunciating his name as if to make sure she got it right.

“Nice meeting you both,” Kate said as she shook Hong-jin’s hand, “Thanks for taking me with you guys.”

“Sure,” Hong-jin answered, then directed his gaze to Dominik. “It’s her first hike,” he remarked. His eyes lingered at Dominik for a couple seconds longer, as if to cue him to say something.

“Olpererhütte for your first hike? Who told you this was a beginner trail?” Dominik looked down at Kate.

“No one…?” she lilted, “I just asked my Airbnb host for the prettiest one around.” She shrugged, “Though this really is one for the books for me. Even on the ride here.”

Dominik only raised his brows slightly before looking straight ahead. For the rest of the climb, that would be the longest couple of sentences he ever spoke, choosing to keep on with his hands tucked inside the pockets of his cargo pants. It was mostly Hong-jin chatting with Kate. If Dominik ever said anything, they were mere one or two-word replies. For the time being, as she shared some menial details about herself, she was able to figure out that Hong-jin is a Korean, and Dominik a German who spent his childhood in a nearby Austrian town, and that the two had a brotherly dynamic about them.

“How long before we reach the hut?” she asked the two of them.

“Maybe a couple more hours,” Hong-jin replied.

Kate hissed, tucking her water bottle in and adjusting her backpack. “Whew, long way.”

“Just tell us if you need a break, all right?” Hong-jin reassured her.

“Yeah thanks,” she answered curtly.

“Wait,” Dominik said under his breath, stopping to stand still. He took his face mask off and clutched it while his hand rested on his waist. He kept his head down and his eyes darted towards the ground, fully concentrated on getting back some much needed air. Beads of sweat began to drip down the side of his forehead.

Hong-jin’s expression shifted from calm to worried. “You good?” he asked. Dominik’s eyes did not leave his shoes as he swung his free hand, as if to shoo the other two away. Kate twirled the strap of her backpack around her finger and looked to Hong-jin, unsure of what to do.

“Okay, we’ll go ahead.” Hong-jin uttered. “He’ll be fine,” he told Kate with a shake of his head as they walked on, but not too far as to leave Dominik behind.

When they were a good amount of steps away, Kate cast a glance at Dominik. “You sure he’s fine?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved off, “By the way, weren’t you the one with the GS earlier?”

“Uhh…yes,” she drawled, eyeing towards her left and pulling a downward grin, “Was it that loud?”

“Oh no, no,” he croaked, leaning away slightly, “Nik and I saw you parking when we started.”

“Ah. Okay,” she trailed off. “ ‘Cause I was honestly worried it was too noisy,” she continued, wrinkling her nose at the thought, “I asked the bike rental for one that wasn’t bothersome in Tyrol but good enough to ride from Vienna.”

That earned his fascination. “Whoa, you rode from Vienna?” he asked her.

“Mmhm,” she nodded proudly, “Had to go pretty early, but fun stuff! I didn’t get tired much because I was just vibing with everything.” Not tired, sure, but maybe I shouldn’t have ridden five hours to hike for another four.

“Cool,” he said in awe. “I’m saving up to buy my own actually.”

“Ooh, what bike are you picking?” she asked in delight.

“Kawasaki Ninja,” he said, “I like the sporty look.”

“The 1000?” she asked, head tilted in anticipation.

“Yeah.”

“Aw hell yeah. I still ride a Beemer back in the Philippines. RnineT.”

“Nice,” he high-fived her in approval, “Wait, where’s—König!” he called out to Dominik below, but cut himself off for some reason. Meanwhile, his friend looked back at them from standing before the mountain view cross-armed, letting out an exhale before trudging towards them. “Aish, i mossol…” Hong-jin sighed to himself.

Dominik wore his mask again after he caught up with them, wordlessly as before. Eventually, the three reached their first destination: a two-storey mountain hut made of burnt-colored bricks and wood, a place where all the hikers gathered.

A look of fulfillment painted Kate’s face as she intertwined her fingers behind her head and took a deep breath. “Finally,” she sighed. The trio walked into the place and Kate’s first thought was to go to the bathroom. She excused herself and told the two men that they could go ahead to the hanging bridge that was a short walk away from the hut. Almost immediately after she was out of earshot, Hong-jin turned to Dominik.

“She rides bikes and flies planes,” he implored, stressing his point with his hands.

“Oh wow, danke! Du bist der Hammer!” he derided, “For fuck’s sake, Jin, stop playing matchmaker.”

“What? Why not? You said she was ‘easy on the eyes’,” he quipped back, sounding mildly offended.

“She doesn’t look bad, that’s what I meant,” Dominik groaned, “You know, if you like her so much, just ask her out.”

“One, I’m out of the market right now—”

“So am I—”

“And two, you’re the one for sale.”

“Ugh.”

The two walked out of the hut and on to the bridge, still continuing their banter. As persistent as Hong-jin was, he couldn’t afford to push his friend past his boundaries, so he arrived at a compromise.

“Okay, at least talk to her so you have something new to tell your therapist?” he fretted.

Dominik stared blankly at his friend and took a second to think. “Eh…no,” he said dryly, hiking briskly ahead to gain some alone time at the hanging bridge. Hong-jin could only scratch his head, but what else could he do? He strolled elsewhere to sit and take in the view, overlooking the vast valley that embraced a turquoise lake.

Kate made her way up to the bridge after some time, passing Hong-jin in his little spot. “Hey there,” she chirped.

“Hi,” Hong-jin greeted back, “Nik’s over at the bridge.”

She looked over to see Dominik standing by himself at the bridge, this time without his face mask. Before Dominik knew, she was making her way towards him.

Oh no. Please go back to Jin, his mind attempted to tell her telepathically, but clearly in vain.

“Hi?” she said, peeking at his eyes to see if he was pissed at her presence, “Mind if I share the bridge?”

The mask.

His hand fidgeted with his pocket to fish out his face mask, but something in his head told him to try and push himself this time. 

“Sure,” he replied in a seemingly offhanded tone.

She stood beside him and brought out her phone to take pictures of the lake. “View’s lovely.”

“Mmhm.”

“Would you believe I was taking pictures earlier as an excuse to not look like a total noob?” she giggled, “I mean I was struggling to keep up but that was so weird of me. What the hell was I thinking there?”

“Pictures or not, you don’t have to worry because almost everyone here’s not local.”

“I see.”

Silence.

“Have you been here before?” she asked him.

“Ja.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s nice.”

More silence that she felt compelled to break.

“Anyhoo, are we allowed to sit here?”

“Yeah.”

She settled herself near one of the ropes that held the wooden planks up, legs dangling over the bridge. Dominik stayed still. “Yeah the height gap is very apparent right now,” said Kate, smiling up at him. He took the cue and sat down beside her. Gaining a closer look at his face, she noticed a large pale scar extending from his right temple, down his cheek, then above the corner of his lip, ending somewhere on his chin. There definitely was a major reason behind it, she pondered, one that was likely too heavy to ask. She shifted the topic in her head.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you and Hong-jin know each other?”

“Uhh…” he looked to Horangi for respite, but he was still far off in his zone taking selfies, not even sparing a moment to check outside his bubble. No backup now. “We met at work a few times. Been friends ever since,” he responded.

“Hmm, so you guys go a long way. What do you guys do anyway?”

Another pause. “Military.”

“Cool,” she remarked. That explained the matching crew cuts. She guessed from his hesitation that she shouldn’t ask for any more what’s or when’s. Quick, ask something else. “I’m guessing military life gets pretty crazy. Pays to take breaks like this one. From all the noise. If machines get to have a break, why can’t we?”

I appreciate the attempt to talk to me, but this strikes a chord—perhaps too hard, he thought. “Unless the job asks for you to really act like a machine, sometimes you have to be like one.”

“But then take a break, like a….machine would?” she replied.

He hummed. “Sure. Then take a break.”

Something in Kate felt triumphant in making him say something other than one-word replies. She rested her hands on the horizontal rope in front of her face and swung her legs absentmindedly. “Yeah. We’re just people. Gotta cope how you need to,” she began to ramble, “Whether that’s peace and quiet, or some good old adrenaline rush. There’s some of that in flying too, which I liked at first, but then the pressure of the job sinks in after a while. It’s like with yo—”

She stopped herself, it felt wrong to complain about her work pressures in front of a literal soldier. She continued, “Okay not really military life-or-death type, of course, but the amount of hard work you need to make it look easy. The smallest scratch on a plane, big incident. Then the first thing the board always points fingers at is the guys in front, know what I mean? Guess because it’s legally the easiest way out?”

Dominik only looked at her and took a short gasp of air, wanting to say something.

Nope. Might breach an NDA.

So he held himself back. Silence was once again shared between the two. But it was a more comfortable one this time, being filled in by the mountain breeze and rustles of greenery.

Suddenly, he spoke. “Adrenaline rush, huh? I supposed the motorbike matched your style.”

“Did it now? Yeah, I like the rush you get from that sorta stuff. A healthy kind of scare. Heck, I’d bungee jump from here right now if I could.” He moved to peek below the bridge. It was fairly far down, but it was layered with rocks from the stream and was too shallow to “bungee jump” from. “That doesn’t sound very healthy,” commented Dominik.

It earned him a snicker from her. “I’m kidding. But—dude,” she swung her head to look him persuasively in the eyes. “Bungee’s fun.”

“A guy my size—I’m probably safer jumping without a rope,” he replied, a smirk shyly peeking into the corners of his mouth. Kate observed that the man had a rather sweet smile. His lips pressed into a thin line, but his cheeks rose ever so slightly.

Her eyes secretly enjoyed lingering on his, admiring the soulful blue of his irises. She realized she may have misjudged him. He wasn’t as cold as she thought; only reserved, but nevertheless, a friendly guy with a long list of experiences that came with his work.

As much as she liked this man’s face, perhaps what she found more interesting was the warmth and tranquility of the moment. No crazy jitters, as if she was just talking to a friend.

Breaking her thoughts from spiraling mid-conversation, she opted to keep the ball rolling, scavenging for names of other extreme sports that involved jumping but had nothing to do with laying your life on a piece of rope. “Hmm, what about cliff diving? Wait, you ever done a jump like that before?”

“I’ve jumped out of a plane.”

Her interest in what he had to say grew, so she sat up straight and leaned a little towards him, “Ooooh, skydiving?” His eyes slightly widened. “Well—yeah skydiving.”

She furrowed her brows at that, then laughed in bewilderment. “Whoa there, why is something telling me it wasn’t just that? Oh my god, what did you do?”

He chuckled at her, flattered upon seeing her interest in what he can do. “I can’t tell. Although skydiving, rappelling down an aircraft…it’s part of the job.”

She hummed with a pout and planted her arms back on the wooden planks. “Wild. I like your style.”

“It’s the rush.”

“Right?” she replied. Man, this guy is cool. “Okay one more photo from here.” She snaps one last photo of the lake, before delicately tucking away her phone in a zipped pocket in her pants. “And yeah let’s keep that, don’t want my phone to fall.”

“You’re terrified of your phone falling but you’ll dive off this bridge?” he questioned her.

“My phone is incapable of saving itself. Though yeah I’m telling you, I’d freakin’ parkour here or something.” she teased, leaning slowly toward the ropes then watching for Dominik’s reaction. Only a face that reads, I’d like to see you try. She faked falling over the rope with a mocking shiver. Still nothing from him but mild amusement. “Tough guy,” she said slyly. His eyes narrowed.

“Ah, look at the time!” he exclaimed as he slapped his hands down on his thighs so aggressively that it made the whole bridge wobble. “Is Hong-jin done yet?” he grinned at her, pretending to be oblivious to her squealing and wrapping her legs around the vertical rope.

“Gago, Dominik!” she shrieked,” hands gripping tighter on the rope and laughing in defeat at his fairly scary retort.

He shook his head. “Okay, I’m sorry, bad joke,” he stood up, offering a hand to her.

She took his hand. “S’alright, it was actually pretty ironic, so touché.”

They walked out of the bridge and back to Hong-jin. “For someone who likes peace and quiet,” he pointed out, “you’re rather loud.”

“Dominik,” she glared up at him in disbelief, “You shook the damn bridge, what do you expect?”

“No, even during the climb. I could hear you even when you and Jin went ahead.”

“Oops. Should I be sorry?” her gaze fixated on the rocks they were walking on.

“Nah,” he drawled, “The energy’s nice. And call me Nik by the way.”

Hong-jin’s attention turned from his phone towards them at the sound of footsteps over the rocks. He got up, gave his friend a subtle glance then acknowledged Kate. Asking the two how the bridge view was, he read that both were now fairly at ease around each other. The three returned to the hut for some beer. They sat side-by-side at a long table overlooking the mountains. It was close to noon and a good amount of fog had dissipated.

Kate took a swig of her drink. “So you guys are heading back to Germany after this?” she asked, looking at Hong-jin who was next to her, then to Dominik.

Hong-jin responded, “Yeah. You?”

“Overnight here.”

“Oh. Enjoy your stay, then,”

“I will.”

She caught Dominik looking away and taking a huge drink from his mug.

They exchanged more stories and shared some laughs as they finished their drinks. Soon enough, Dominik and Hong-jin said they had to be on their way. They bid each other goodbye.

As she watched the two men walk away, she realized it was now or never, else she might not see them again.

“Them”? Please, it’s mostly Tall Boy you’re worried about, she told herself, You’re a tourist. Nobody knows you here. Go for it. What could go wrong?

“Wait!” she called their attention. They turned around and saw her briskly walking to them with her phone in her hand. Despite the fact that she was addressing both people, she looked mainly at Dominik as she spoke. “If you don’t mind, maybe we’ll catch up again, guess I could have your socials or something?” She quickly realized her eyes might incriminate herself and immediately looked at Hong-jin. “Or yours. Anyone, really, if we’re all hanging out next time.”

Dominik only stood, hesitant to take her phone as she offered it. “I don’t really have social media. But I suppose I can give you my number.”

Perhaps it was a good thing that neither of them saw Hong-jin twist his face in wry amusement over what Dominik just said.

She opened the phone app and handed her phone to Dominik, who typed in his number. She gestured to Hong-jin to type in his social media handles, which she followed right after.

“All right,” she said gleefully after pocketing her phone, “Guess we’ll chat around when we can. It was nice meeting you both.”

The other two nodded and smiled in agreement before saying goodbye to her again.

She bought lunch soon after, then after a hearty meal, she settled her things on the bed, and opened her phone to look at one of the newly saved contacts.

Dominik Brunner.

Pretty name, she mused. As odd as it felt for her to fixate on the details of someone she just met, she admitted that she liked how he seemed pretty outgoing underneath the timid front. She allowed the soft, warm glow slowly to creep up on her cheeks, silently savoring that small win she had for the day.

. . .

Also posted on Ao3. Hope you liked this fic!

Translations:

Verzeihung! - Excuse me!/Sorry! Hallo, sprechen Sie Englisch? - Hello, do you speak English? Aish, i mossol… - Aish [interjection for frustration or slight anger], this mossol [slang, someone who has never had a boyfriend or girlfriend] Oh wow, danke! Du bist der Hammer! - Oh wow, thanks! You're the best! Gago - [offensive], jerk/bastard

[practically-an-x-man]

Talk shop Tuesday!

Has there ever been a time when you wanted to write something for an existing fic so badly but it didn't fit with it really and you debated posting it separately as an au fic? Did you ever decide it wasn't worth writing anyway?

Has there ever been a time when you've been a little jealous of one of your characters? Or you give a character something you want.

Has there ever been a fandom you could see yourself writing for but you never have?

How would you feel if someone beta read for you?

Is there a certain song or playlist you listen to while writing?

I hope these questions make sense

Thank you bestie!! <3

Talk Shop Tuesday

Oh, absolutely!! I've definitely done this, and when the idea is strong enough I will write it out and post it as an AU sidepiece. Torment is an alternate chapter for Bolts and Blasters. Aftermath is an additional chapter placed in between two existing chapters of A Love Once New, and Tear Us Apart is another alternate chapter/sidepiece I wrote as an AU for the later chapters. Years Ahead is an AU from my main Eris timeline, but I thought it was such an interesting idea that I wrote it anyway.

Sometimes it's hard to choose which scene I want for the actual, canon timeline and when I just can't make something fit in with that, but when it's a really vivid idea then I absolutely will still write it out and share it. It's pretty rare that I just plain scrap an idea, at least once I get to that stage in the process.

Again, ABSOLUTELY. Each of my OCs, and most of the canon characters I write for too, are in some way a reflection of myself. They aren't self-inserts by any means, but many of the themes that are present in their stories are reflections or translations of things I go through myself. As comforting as it is to write or read one of my hurt/comfort scenes, I definitely get jealous of my characters sometimes. The big ones for me are 1. unconditional gender acceptance and 2. being cared for when they're sick/in pain/dealing with disabilities, it's both super comforting to read and also makes me a little jealous since I don't really get to experience that in my real life. And I get super jealous of Warren and any other characters who have wings/are able to fly, since I WISH I could do that.

I'm sure I could dip my toe in the Fallout fandom if I felt like it, I enjoyed the show and I think I could come up with some neat fic ideas. And technically I do have a Fallout OC... my courier for New Vegas, which I started playing and really need to get back to lol. The whole universe just has some really interesting worldbuilding, and just the right balance of darkness and intrigue that usually pulls at me for writing ideas.

I mean... I wouldn't be offended or anything, but I've never sought it out. I don't have anything against beta readers and I know they can be a huge help, but I just get so excited about posting my writing once it's done that I can't imagine waiting for someone else to read it first and delay when I get to post it lol XD

Nope! I don't really listen to music when I write, I usually just have a show or movie (or YouTube videos) on in the background for white noise. When I was in college I would actively pick something for myself (usually something I've seen before, so I can enjoy it but don't have to pay attention to understand it), but since I've been home it's mainly just been whatever my family decides to have on the TV. And when I really need to focus I'll go where it's quiet, since sometimes the silence helps me fall into the story and visualize it more clearly.

[novemberhope]

How do you come up with ocs? Do you have a process, get inspired by a certain trope, etc? - 🖤

Thank you for the question! It kind of differs, really... after watching OPLA, I just knew I had to make a One Piece OC and since I love mermaids, I wanted her to be one. That's all I had. Then I kind of decided of her looks but her name really took ages. Even her backstory came to me faster than her name. With Niara, I kind of played around with artwork a bit and looked at different stuff and there was one picture and I saw it and was like, yes, that's it, that is her, and her whole self kind of grew from there. With Azura, I kind of had a vibe and went to explore that further. Cordelia started out as a side character but I love her too much but I struggled to include her in the story at first (but some lovely anon offered helpful advice and ideas - thanks again for that!). Ellaria I had in mind for ages... her backstory is still mysterious, even to me, but after many months, she finally got a name. With Ginny, I tried many different things - she had some spoilt rich girl vibe at first but I'm so glad I didn't went with that but ended up with my rage-filled redhead girlie (who also didn't have a name for the longest time). Newest addition Midori was the "but what if I have made a marine character" choice - I kind of based her on someone I know but tweaked stuff a bit to make it fit the story.

As for my Pokemon OCs, Lark and Skye have been around for ages but were originally just plain boring self-inserts until they suddenly started to develop a bit more. I think they have so much more potential though. Calla was supposed to be a self-insert too but she kind of found her own persona. Leilani und Malea are completely different from me. They started out rather tame but I was vibing so much with them and when I was looking around for inspiration and quotes and other stuff I kind of started to take them into certain directions. They were different from what I usually wrote but in a good way.

So, to summon this up, it usually starts with a vibe... sometimes I just see a character and I'm like yes yes that's it that's it - and then I go from there. Names tend to take their time unless, like in Leilani's case, I heard it somewhere and found it so pretty that I was like yup, that's her name. I feel like back in the day I came up with the same type of character all over again but I think I've gotten better at this now and they feel more special and less interchangeable-but-in-different-fandoms.

Thanks again for your question, anon, much appreciated!

How does everyone else do this?

[assortedvillainvault]

Hi! I'd like to make a request, please. It's a Disney Hades x Fem! reader; She's a introvert, quite quiet and all – also shy with affection in general as she's not used to it. But is sometimes quite sassy; likings to make horrible jokes ( it could be in an early stage of the romantic relationship; Or her shying at first, opening up more as the relationship progresses; Or friends to Lovers. Do what your heart desires! Would like to record my love for your writingis; it's captivating!

I do like me a shy self insert every now and again - lets face it, not many of us would exactly be confident in this scenario.

Forgive me if I switch it up a little, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers stops for absolsutely no-one, not even Death. I'm aiming for your tear ducts as I punch this out.

Disney Hades x Shy!Dead!Female!Reader

So. You're dead.

You thought it would come with more fanfare, but you slipped from life into the styx with naught but a swoop of vertigo and the feeling of swimming in a mass of cold slimy sardines.

When the current nudged you toward the shore you didn't think twice, you clawed your way straight out of there and sat, shivering, on the shores of the Underworld. The blue brazier light reflecting off the wet walls and broiling river was oldly peaceful, casting your translucent soul in a gentle, if dispassionate, light.

Until Hades was slam dunked into the styx himself and the Underworld entrance thunderously sealed by an emormous bolt of lighting.

You weren't stupid enough to hang around an angry god and ran to hide immediately.

After several days? Weeks? Hard to tell with no sunlight - you found a routine.

The few souls and monsters being used as guards were easy to avoid. You mastered moving silently as a ghost pretty much instantly, years of self imposed distance and quiet sneaking making the transition easier than you expected. With nothing else to do, you began to explore.

Caverns larger than Athens, strings of glow worms, the gentle trickle of water, rooms of every crystal imaginable, the roar of distant waterfalls as the rivers looped around the realm of the dead, it was all breathtaking.

...it was all quiet. All lonely.

It was all the domain of one trapped, angry, depressed as all fuck son of Cronus who seemed to be making it his eternal life's mission to find you and sling you back into the river.

Close escape after close escape, relying more on his crazed muttering and random slings of fire to slip away as he gritted his teeth and all but screamed in near frustration.

This was a job for imps and contracted souls, but Hades was the picture definition of stir-crazy and frankly losing his marbles.

He hated this place. He hated the dark, he hated the souls, he hated hated hated hated-

You find him later sat on the shores of Acheron, heat making the air swim around him even as his flame remained stubbornly blue. He was staring blindly at the cavern ceiling, and something thick and golden dripped from his fingers.

A tiny gasp escapes as you realise he's burned so hot in his latest tantrum that the sand around him had been blasted to glass. Drops and smudges of ichor -godblood- were scattered around him.

He wasn't moving to fix it.

One ear had twitched. He knew you were there.

"The fuck you want?" you frowned as the flat syllables hit the still air. "'Cos if it's out, we're both fresh out of luck."

You shuffled. "...bit of conversation might be nice, I guess." You mumbled.

Hades said nothing for a while.

You met up in another cavern sometime weeks? later. This one was made of amethyst, and you hid behind a pillar while he idly flicked crystals from their towers and yammered bitterly. You said single words here and there, letting him vent.

And again, behind the curtains of Acheron's waterfalls.

And again in the plains of Asphodel.

And again, and again, and again...

It's nearly a year since you died and you're listening to the Lord of the Dead skim stones into a bottomless pool and snort out bad puns like there's no tomorrow. You're cracking back jokes just as bad from your hiding place behind a boulder.

The stone skimming stopped. "...Heh. Y'know, this is nice." His cloak rustled as he sat himself down again. "Honestly for a figment of my imagination you're not so bad. Least I'm going mad with a laugh."

...what?

"Oh yeah nah, I know you can't be real babe, I mean lets face it - no soul has ever endured my company when they had the option not to, and I've never gotten a good look at you, only heard you - and trust me I know what sleep deprivation does to me, oy you should have heard the shit I was hallucinating once when I pulled two months of no sleep..." he waved a hand and you felt your heart break a little bit without knowing quite why. "...so, yeah, thanks I guess, cute little voice, for keeping me company. You're probably the nicest mental breakdown I've ever had."

You're still as a stone in your little hidey hole. You step out from your hiding place. Stride to the shore, sit gently next to a god three times your size and very deliberatly do not look at him.

He's finding the wall of immense interest himself.

"...You're welcome, Hades."

It's a short beat before he exhales shakily. "Yeah, I...yeah."

He's a God of the Dead, he knows exactly what he's feeling when wisps of your soul drift against his arm. But for the minute he can't, won't process that.

You're ok with being his little hallucination, for now.