#not a lot of my ocs will be that open about their feelings but ego is very good at communication and talking and stuff

[moeblob]

They're soulmates in every single universe and I miss them at the most random times.

[mixelation]

✨blood covenant✨ fic preview ->

for those of you that missed it, @tozettastone, @waffliesinyoface and i all agreed to do a blood covenant challenge where we write OC/character fics.

here's the potential first chapter of mine, which is OC/Minato

****

I’m going to fuck up that guy’s whole life, is the only thought in my mind as I leap through the trees. 

Every time I come down on a new branch, my right thigh screams in protest. It screams again as I come back up, hurling myself as ungracefully as a new genin to my next landing. WHat’s left of the fabric of my leggings is hot and sticky with blood. 

But, dear reader, I have advice for you: if you want to kill a medic, make sure you make a killing blow. Don’t just leave her for dead and assume she’ll crawl off and die like a good girl. I know, if you’re a megalomaniac with an ego the size of Hokage Mountain, this will seem tempting, to leave her to wallow and suffer while you go off to do something more important. Do not do it. 

I’m not Shisui, I thought furiously, pausing in my sloppy run as the temple I was aiming for came into sight. I’m not just calling it quits and giving away my eyes. Fuck off, Danzo. 

I lean against the trunk of the tree, panting heavily. Through the branches, I can see the curving roof of the temple. There are a lot of old abandoned buildings out here, dotting the forests of Fire Country, and this one doesn’t stand out as special. I only knew where it was because I’d previously found it by happenstance, and I only recognized it as important by chance knowledge. I have never been inside before. 

Pausing my run was a mistake. The loss of momentum means that I am abruptly and painfully aware of how shaky and weak my legs feel. I make a clumsy jump for the forest floor and have to turn my landing into an embarrassing roll. 

If anyone is following me, they’re far enough behind that I can’t sense them. I can see the spiral emblem on the door of the temple, the carved wood smoothed and faded with time. I limp forward confidently, using my left hand to push more healing chakra into the hole in my leg, which I would generously describe as “gaping,” but is definitely less gaping than when Danzo had stabbed me. 

I’ll get both his legs, I think as I push open the temple door. Ugh, it’s going to scar!

The movement of the door tosses an enormous amount of dust into the air, making my eyes water. The air smells stale and musty. The windows are boarded up, and only a few sickly strands of moonlight illuminate the innards of the Uzumaki temple. 

I have to stop my healing to activate my sharingan. I can usually do both at once, obviously, but I’d been running on nothing but adrenaline and spite for too long, and my body currently doesn’t contain nearly enough blood as it should. I’m starting to get dizzy. 

The sharingan does nothing to enhance color vision, but with it I only need the smallest source of light to make out the contents of the temple clearly. There are some hanging scrolls and abandoned, rotting furniture, which I ignore. My eyes go straight for the rows of masks hanging across the back wall. 

I limp into the temple. When forming this half-made plan on the way over, I’d had some trepidation about identifying which mask is the one I want, but looking at them, I know instantly. 

It’s not that the mask looks extraordinary or that my sharingan can pick up something special. The mask appears to be nothing but wood: paint peeling just slightly with time, a grinning demon’s face with curling horns, a jeering smile on its lips. Nothing is peculiar about its craftsmanship, and my sharingan can detect no jutsu or chakra on it. 

And yet, to look into its eyes, is to see the inevitability of your own death. 

A hint of fear tingles up my spine. A bad omen, my superstitious mother would have said. A warning to my most primal senses that this is a power not to be taken lightly. 

I step limp forward anyway. 

It’s fine. I’ve been staring down the inevitability of my own death for over two decades. The feeling still makes my blood run cold with terror, but it’s a feeling I’m used to. This is my last chance at defying fate. 

I pull the mask for the wall and lift it to my face. 

If you kill me, I think at the mask, make sure you bring those assholes down with me, will you?

xXx

Dear reader, here is what you need to know about me.

My name is Uchiha Renka. I was raised by a great aunt after both my parents died in the Second Shinobi War. My hobbies include reading, baking, and dabbling in make-up and fashion. After a lot of study and hard work, I have passed most medic-nin competencies and work mainly in the hospital. 

I am a painfully normal sort of young woman, as you can see. At least for a ninja. I work my shifts, and I treat myself to a new book once a week. The most scandalous thing I do, aside from occasionally going out on state-mandated missions that sometimes include various types of murder, is that every once in a while I go out drinking with my girlfriends, and even that isn’t too scandalous. The rowdiest I get is wearing unique shades of lipstick. We even have a three drink maximum. I did not do anything to merit the fucking headhunt after me except exist as an Uchiha. 

And… well, okay, I’ll admit something, just between us. Another thing you should know about me is that, even if my main goals in life are to not die, to help people at the hospital, and then to go home and read a good book over some hot tea on my balcony, I do have a bit of a fatal flaw. It’s nothing more than a basic Uchiha family trait, really:

I am just a teensy-weensy bit vindictive. 

It got me into trouble a few times growing up, but it’s really nothing too bad. It definitely wasn’t enough to make me deserve the absolute clusterfuck you just read about. You make one mistake, and next thing you know, your boss is calling you a vile woman and a disgusting, cowardly failure and trying to kill you. 

Well, fuck him, honestly. I’d survived everything up until him, and I’m not going down without a fight. 

I wasn’t one hundred percent sure how the shinigami mask worked when I put it on. When I’d decided to try it, I thought I could maybe use the shinigami to chuck Danzo and-slash-or “Madara” into the afterlife for good. My second choice was to bring back Tobirama and have him tell off my enemies and maybe my clan for… whatever the hell they were doing. 

Honestly. All I want is to sit in my patio chair with a blanket and read…

I vomit up the Fourth Hokage instead. 

I know. It sounds gross. I know. But I’m not making any of this up. I put on the mask, and it’s like the shinigami is inside me, and then inside of the shinigami was this horrible squirming feeling. I want it out. I need it out. 

I throw up. It feels awful, worse than any vomiting session I’d had before, my whole body retching. The mask falls off my face. 

Then the Fourth Hokage is standing in front of me.

Reader, I assume that you are coming into this story with certain expectations for how pulling a soul out of the shinigami’s stomach should work. Well, toss those expectations. You’re basing them on people who knew what they were doing. I’m just one innocent little Uchiha. 

Namikaze Minato appears before me in a white funeral kimono, folded neatly right side over left, a white band with a triangle over his forehead around his head. Clearly instead of a fighting-fit Hokage like I expected, I’ve grabbed him… right out of the grave…?

He turns to me and blinks rapidly, like the sun is in his eyes, despite it being the middle of the night. Reader, this man is handsome. With this wide, dazed expression, he looks like a confused male model, not the most lethal ninja in history. 

My throat feels raw. I open my mouth to speak but can’t. His eyes move away from me like he hasn’t quite registered that I'm there.

He pats himself down absent-mindedly, his hands going down his chest and stomach like he’s surprised they’re there. I watch as his brows furrow a little as his hands approach his hips. Then he reaches down to his right thigh, his fingers moving toward the inner part of the front. He presses down. 

I scream. It’s like someone has stuck their fingers directly into my thigh wound. Pain completely cuts off all my thoughts and I finally topple over completely. 

I’m aware he’s moved over to stand over me, although my vision has gone white with pain. His gait is uneven, something of a limp. I fumble for my wound, pressing numbing chakra into it. Danzo had clearly been aiming for the femoral artery to make me bleed out, and I’d fixed it up enough to not endanger my life, but it still hurt. 

There’s no new damage to my wound, even though that definitely felt like that should have ruptured something. 

I feel the Fourth Hokage squat next to me, and his hand comes down over mine, pressing gently against my wound. It’s not enough to hurt this time, not with the help of the healing chakra numbing the nerves, but it increases the pressure over it markedly. 

“Huh,” he says. 

“What the fuck,” I croak out, and dust on the floor gets in my throat and eyes and makes me have to fight back a cough.

He removes his hand. Then, even though he’s clearly not touching me, I feel a pinch on the back of my hand. 

“Ow,” I say accusingly, and then give into the coughing fit. 

“You can feel that?” he asks, sounding surprised. 

He waits patiently while I sit back up, coughing again. He seems completely unrushed and unbothered, watching me with extreme interest. He doesn’t have the slightest idea what’s going on. 

I stare back at him. I’m clearly a wreck. There’s dust all in my hair now, flooding my nasal passageways and making me sneeze. Between the sharingan and having to use Mystical Palm again, my head is swimming and my arm is barely strong enough to hold me up. 

He holds my gaze despite the active sharingan, studying me like he’s never seen another human face before. Brave man. But maybe being dead for eight years makes one brave. 

Or… who am I kidding? He’s the Yellow Flash. He probably thinks he could kill me before I could cast a genjutsu. 

(I think he couldn’t. But I’m obviously not going to test this theory unless I have to.)

After a few moments in which I let out several unsexy, wheezing breaths, he turns away from me and picks up the fallen shinigami mask. 

“So that’s how you did it,” he says, flipping it around in his hands. “I’m remembering now… I think I was hoping someone would come for this, at first, or another tool to let me pass on properly. But then… I forgot…” He frowns, deeper this time. “I forgot a lot of things. How long has it been?”

“Since you died?” I say. “Eight years.”

“Only eight?” he repeats and absentmindedly scratches the side of his face. I cannot feel this on my own face, I notice. Perhaps we can only share pain. “It felt so much longer, with nothing to see or feel or do…”

His head turns up, and it takes me a few moments of concentration to realize Danzo’s cronies have finally caught up with me. He hadn’t immediately sicced any on me, as he’d confronted me himself and then left me for dead. But likely he’d sent a team to confirm I’d actually died, and I hadn’t exactly covered my trail. 

The Hokage doesn’t look worried, just mildly curious. 

“They want to kill me,” I say, unsteadily getting my feet under me in preparation to stand. “I… you have to help me. You have to help Konoha.”

He turns his eyes back on me, and they still have that look of mild curiosity, like he’s watching a television show he doesn’t understand the plot to. 

“Why do they want to kill you?” he asks. 

“It’ll take too long to explain,” I say. “Please.”

I had thought that summoning the dead meant you got to control them. This doesn’t appear to be how it works. Instead of getting up to kill the team of ROOT agents outside, Minato tucks the shinigami mask into his white kimono and then leans over me to set his hand on my shoulder. A second letter, we’re on Hokage Monument, overlooking the village. 

“Wow!” Minato says, standing over the village with hands on his hips. “It’s been so long… look at all those lights…”

“Can we please focus?” I ask. I’m still squatted on the ground, and I don’t have the strength to stand casually. I fall back on my butt. 

Minato looks pained as he pulls his attention away from the view. 

“Right, right, the fate of Konoha or whatever…” he says, sitting cross legged in front of me. He smiles widely. It’s a beautiful, inviting smile. “Now you have time to explain it to me.”

xXx

When I graduated the Academy a little over ten years ago, Konoha was still at the height of war. I’m sure you’ll hear more about that if you stick around. 

Back then, I knew of Namikaze Minato because he was one of the Jounin sensei for our cohort. I never spoke to him, but I’d seen him talking with my sensei sometimes. Sometimes I had to talk to Obito about Uchiha related things, and he’d waved at us once or twice from a distance. 

My very first real impression of who he was came from an Iwa-nin. 

I don’t really like talking about this part of my life, but I want you to trust me, so I’ll be open. When I was thirteen, my team was captured by Iwa. Everyone but me was killed. I was only spared because I had some medical training, and they agreed to let me live in exchange for healing their wounded. 

One day I was treating a man with a nasty burns across his entire body, and he suddenly grabbed my wrist, which was all bruised up from being tied when I wasn’t actively healing people. 

“You’re one of those Konoha floozies?” he asked. His eyes were unfocused from pain. 

I didn’t say anything. Speaking rarely ended well. His grip on me tightened and I winced. I’m always surprised by how strong some people can stay, even when they’ve been beaten half to death. 

“Do you know the Yellow Flash?” he asked. “My whole platoon… all of them, gone in an instant…”

He gibbered on and on for several moments, eyes wide. He’d been towards the outskirts of his platoon’s camp when Minato had showed up, which was why he’d had the few precious seconds to realize what was happening. 

“We’re supposed to flee on sight,” he said, his whole body shaking. “What they don’t tell you is that once you see him, you’re already dead.”

“You’re alive,” I said diplomatically. 

“I used a suicide jutsu, tried to blow myself up,” he said. “I should have died. I would have preferred it, if he’d killed me…”

The man did eventually pass from his wounds. There hadn’t really been much I could have done. Even Tsunade herself probably couldn’t have saved him. 

They punished me for it anyway. When I was sitting in the prisoner’s tent, cheek smarting from where the commander had slapped me and stomach growling from reduced rations, I thought about what the man had said. 

Once you see him, you’re already dead. 

That was the first time I’d really understood the sheer power that a singular ninja could have. 

xXx

One reason I think Konoha loved their Fourth Hokage so much, is that he’d go out and kill countless enemies, and then he’d come home and look and behave like the protagonist from a shoujou manga. He was devastatingly lethal, but in everyday interactions, he just had a way of making you feel safe and valued. 

Sitting in the cool breeze breeze on Hokage monument with him smiling back at me, it’s not hard to confess to him what had been happening. The planned coup, the proposed counter massacre, the way I’d been caught up in it all. I cry a few times. Beautifully, I might add. I’d practiced in the mirror. 

I might be… a little vane. That’s not important right now, though.

Minato nods along with a thoughtful look on his face, more like he’s watching a TV show than listening to a poor woman explain that his village is exploding. It feels off. I hope he’s appreciating my show, at least. 

“There’s also…” I turn my face so he can see my flawless profile, staring out over the village. The lights below twinkle in the night like always. There’s really no sign of my entire family— including me—  potentially being wiped out tonight. 

“There’s also the masked man,” I say. 

Minato blinks, his expression suddenly snapping into focus. He frowns at me. 

“The masked man?” he asks. 

“He claims to be Uchiha Madara,” I say. “He’s obsessed with me. He approached me, saying he’ll help me if I volunteer for the massacre–”

Minato stands, turning towards the village again. In his white kimono fluttering in the breeze, he almost looks like a Hokage again. 

“I think…” he starts. “I think I want to kill him. I was angry about him, before. I can’t quite remember…”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, a twinge of hysteria teasing at the edges of my mind. I try to stand, but my head is dizzy and my injured leg gives out. 

Minato turns to me, absentmindedly patting at his own leg. 

“This is really annoying,” he says. “Why are we connected?”

“I don’t know,” I snap back, the hysteria bleeding into my voice. “Of course you want to kill the masked man.” I want him to kill the masked man! That’s the whole point! “He’s the one who killed you and your wife.”

His eyes widen. 

“Ah…” he says. He sticks out his bottom lip. “I really missed Kushina, the first hundred years…”

“You’ve only been dead for eight!” I screech back at him. Honestly, what was the point of summoning the deadliest ninja in history if he’s a basket case?

I get to my feet for real this time, grasping at the loose pieces of his kimono to pull myself up. He makes no move to intervene, but he also doesn’t help me. Instead he pouts down at me, wincing when I put my weight on the injured leg. 

“You have to help,” I say. “Or I will throw myself off this cliff, and we’ll both find out how much pain an undead man can feel.”

He catches my elbow as if to stop me, face still all pouty. It’s a cute look, except that I want him to be a cool leader fixing all my problems!

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Look, I’ll help you. I spent hundreds of years with nothing but the dark pit of the Shinigami’s stomach, thinking about how I wanted to kill the masked man.”

I don’t correct him on his time period. 

He smiles brightly at me. “And the Uchiha coup is an easy fix!” he says. “I’ll just do what I did last time.”

“Last time…?” I repeat. I had no idea there’d been a “last time.” What on earth…?

“Mm, they tried this when I was Hokage,” he says. “What did I do again… wow, look at this tree…”

Red autumn leaves flutter off a scraggly tree a few meters away. Minato watches them in the breeze intently, like he’s never seen leaves before. 

“Hokage-sama,” I half yell, yanking at his kimono sleeve. “You can look at all the trees you want later.”

“Oh,” he turns back to me. “Right. Last time, I just put one of my Hiraishin markers on their heir. Fugaku’s son… what was his name… anyway, I put a marker on him, and said if the Uchiha tried anything, I’d simply kill their precious child.”

He beams at me. I stare back, mouth unfortunately gaping. It has to be a very unsexy look, but I can’t help it. I’d assumed… I’d assumed there had been no problems under the Fourth, that the Uchiha had been fine and at peace under him, and that he’d be able to make them see reason… 

“We can just do that,” he says, cutting through my anxiety spiral. His smile gains a reassuring quality. “I already have the marker in place. We can take the child hostage to make them back down, easy-peasy.”

“N-no,” I sputter out. “We can’t do that. Uchiha Itachi… Fugaku-sama’s first son is dead.”

[anjee0]

Road trip

Female!reader x 2000s!Eminem (Feel free to put in your own oc insert)

Description - Y/n and her friends get invited by Marshall's and his friends for a road trip, where things take an unexpected twist between Y/n and Marshall.

Warnings - Light swearing, Y/n and Marshall hated each other, awkward and tense scenes, light smut.

Requested by @sweetmusicvoid

i thought it might be neat to have some sort of friend group where the reader and marsh are kind of enemies, and the group is going on a road trip together. but she’s forced to sit on his lap in this trailer that’s attached to the car. tension, light smut, etc. anyway, it was just a thought :)

“Y/n, please!” Carla begged as she tried to pull Y/n out of her bed.

“Please! It'll be fun!” Ashley exclaimed, also trying to pull Y/n out.

“Girls, I already said no. Especially if Marshall is going to be there.” Y/n replied, adding a dramatic scoff to the end of her sentence.

Y/n and Marshall hated each other's guts for as long as they could both remember. Something about his cocky attitude and bursting ego made her see him solely as an unlikeable person. And now that he had become famous, selling over a million records on his latest album, his attitude and ego only continued to inflate.

However, Y/n's friends and Marshall's friends were close with each other, meaning that the pair would see each other quite frequently. Him and his friends planned on going on a car ride with a trailer attached to the back. They'd also decided to invite Y/n and her friends.

“You know, for someone who hates Marshall, you seem to talk about him a lot.” Carla teased.

Ashley smirked, wanting to join in on the bantering fun. “And I see the way you both look at each other. Especially Marshall.”

“Oh my gosh. Guys, seriously, you sound like little kids. I don’t like him like that. I don’t like him at all.”

“Whatever you say.” Carla joked.

“And what's so fun about going on a car ride with a trailer attached to the back? Like what do we do?” Y/n asked.

“Well, we're going to drive to a quiet place first, then we're gonna hang out in the trailer. Have some drinks, eat some food and so on.” Ashley said.

“Hang out in a trailer? All 6 of us?” Y/n questioned.

“Yes.” Carla replied. “I know it sounds boring but it's going to be great!”

“Is drinking in a cramped space with 6 people a good idea?” Y/n asked.

“The trailer’s not that small. Remember, the guys are super rich so they were able to get their hands on quite a big trailer.” Ashley said.

“Y/n, please. It’ll be so worth it.” Carla pleaded.

“I still don't believe you but I guess I'll go then.” Y/n said, reluctantly giving in.

Carla and Ashley whooped cheerily as they jumped onto the bed with Y/n, happy to know that she was tagging along.

“But I'm ignoring Marshall.”

“Ignore Marshall all you want, we're just glad to hear you're coming. Alright, get changed.” Ashley said.

Y/n got changed into a mini black dress where the hemline sat just right on her upper thigh. It was decorated with small ruffles and tied with silky white ribbons in the back. She got changed into a shiny and stunning— yet comfortable pair of black boots. To top it off, she wore her hair in a half-up half-down, bringing her outfit all together.

A while later, Denaun, Proof and Marshall pulled up in front of Y/n’s house in their car. Denaun honked the horn repeatedly, letting the girls know that they were outside. The girls wasted no time rushing outside and opening the car door to let themselves in. Denaun and Proof sat in the front, whilst Marshall sat in the back. A grey medium-sized trailer was attached to the back. Y/n still had her doubts on how spacious it could be.

“Hey ladies.” Denaun greeted. “Are we ready to go?”

“Sure are.” Carla replied as she got in the car, sliding herself next to Marshall. 

Ashley followed up after her, filling up the seats in the backseat. Y/n caught a flash of a cocky smirk on Marshall’s face.

“Uh oh. Seats are filled up. You can stay back at home.” Marshall teased.

“Fuck you Marshall.” Y/n retorted. “Can you guys move up please?” She asked her friends.

Without any hesitation, Carla and Ashely moved up as much they could, only leaving a sliver of space for Y/n to sit on. She had a moment of hesitation before she sat down and closed the door. She'd have to admit, she felt awfully uncomfortable. Her body felt sandwiched between the car door and Ashely. The space felt tight, just like her chest as she struggled to take a proper breath.

“Jeez, how tiny is your car?” Carla asked. “I'm suffocating here.”

“Guess there's not enough space for 4 people.” Y/n muttered.

“What do we do?” Ashley asked.

“One of you can sit on my lap.” Marshall suggested with a smug look on his face.

“Wow Marshall. Honestly I'm not surprised, being the guy you are, of course you would suggest-” Y/n started to ramble.

“Chill, Y/n. I don't want you sitting on my lap. I was talking to Ashley and Carla.” He interrupted.

Y/n scoffed and muttered a small “Whatever” under her breath as she rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but feel a bolt of jealousy to strike in her system. She immediately shook her head of those thoughts, convincing herself that she wasn't jealous.

“I'll pass.” Carla said.

“Same here.” Ashley replied.

“Well, we're gonna have to figure something out.” Proof said. “And you'll have to do it quickly.”

“Well I guess Y/n sitting on my lap doesn't sound like a nightmare.” Marshall mumbled, but still loud enough for everyone to hear.

“No way.” Y/n replied, feeling disgusted at the thought of even going near him.

Ashley leaned into Y/n's ear and softly whispered. “You're our only chance.”

“I am not sitting on his lap.”

“Y/n please?” Carla pleaded. “We will leave you alone after this.”

Y/n sighed, accepting her defeat and reluctantly giving in. “Fine whatever. But you guys owe me.”

Carla and Ashley immediately thanked her as she got out of the car and went to the other side. Y/n opened the door and gave a disappointed look to Marshall, who looked smugly thrilled.

“Hurry up, princess.” Marshall said with a dumb smirk on his face.

“Don't call me that.” Y/n replied sharply, making her way into his lap.

As Y/n sat on his lap, she felt a strange feeling brewing in her stomach, it only continued to rise when he put his arms around her waist.

“You don't have to do that.” She said, taking his arms off her.

“But you don't have a seat belt.” Marshall replied.

“So you're trying to be my seat belt?”

“Pretty much.”

“I'm fine.”

“Whatever you want.”

Moments later, the car started up and they were all driving off. Conversations emerged from the group as the car drive progressed. Y/n would put her two cents in every now and then, but would spend most her time listening.

During the car ride, Y/n could feel Marshall's eyes boring into the back of her skull. She could feel his eyes wandering all over the back of her head, probably pulling off a smirk.

Suddenly, the car hit a sudden stop, making everyone fall forward. As Y/n tumbled forward, she could see she was about to hit her face on the headrest in front of her. But before that could happen, Marshall wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back to prevent any damage. Her back rested against his chest, his arms still around her. Luckily, everyone had their seatbelts on to prevent anything bad. 

“Shit. Is everyone okay?” Denaun asked, looking back.

“What was up with the sudden break?” Proof asked.

“Saw a cat run across the street.”

Y/n let go of Marshall's hold and sat up properly, fixing herself up. Marshall leaned forward slightly and whispered in her ear: “Are you okay?” His hot breath tickled against her skin, gliding down her neck. 

Y/n felt a strange airy feeling in her chest and stomach as she tried to keep her composure. “I'm fine.” She responded.

For the rest of the car ride, Marshall had his arms around her, holding her close. Y/n felt a sense of comfort and reassurance in his touch, something she would've never expected.

Eventually, the car stopped in the middle of a field, surrounded by a deep woods. Y/n stepped out of the car, feeling relieved. The sky was dark and littered with twinkling stars. 

“Yo there's a pizza place nearby here. We should head there. It's walking distance.” Proof said.

“Alright, let's go then.” Carla said.

“I'll stay here.” Y/n said.

“Are you sure?” Ashley asked.

“Yeah, I'm kinda tired. I might just rest in the trailer then.”

“Let me open it for you.” Denaun said. He took his keys out of his pocket and fiddled around looking for the correct key. He finally found the correct one and put the key in the door to unlock it.

Y/n thanked him before stepping in and closing the door behind her. A wave of shock hit her when she saw the inside of the trailer. It was spacious and definitely had the capacity to fit 6 people in. The outside definitely gave it an different impression. There was at the door at the end that led to a cosy looking bedroom. There were two beds on both sides, making the bedroom a bit cramped, but still cosy.

Y/n threw her shoes off and belly flopped onto the bed. Her head hit the soft cushiony pillows that brought her comfort. The thick blanket felt warm against her cold body. She relaxed against the bed, feeling calm and steady. She basked herself in tranquil atmosphere that surrounded her.

The moment was quickly interrupted when the door swung wide open, ruining the peacefulness. When Y/n looked up, she was confused to see Marshall standing at the door, looking at her with the same confused expression.

“What are you doing here?” She mumbled, sitting up.

“I'm tired so I said I'd go rest. They didn't tell me you were in here.” 

“Well I'm tired too.”

Marshall sat on the bed across from her and leaned against the wall with his knees up. He sighed and rested his arms on his knees whilst he dropped his head down.

“Whats up with you?” Y/n asked.

“Nothing. Just tired is all. Working on the next album.”

“Already? Didn't you come out with one recently?”

“Yeah I know-”

“If I were you, I would try to appreciate the moment, instead of working my ass non-stop.”

“Don't tell me what to do.” 

Y/n chuckled and shook her head. “You know I'm right, asshole.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Marshall lifted his head and decided to speak up. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“Well, because you're annoying.” 

“Yeah right.”

“What?”

“You like me, don't you?”

“Excuse me?” 

“You like me. Romantically.”

Y/n scoffed, feeling a spike of annoyance in her blood. “Listen, Marshall. Just because you're famous now and you have a bunch of groupies jumping on you, doesn't mean that every girl that looks at you likes you. Especially me.”

She got off the bed and made her way to the door, only for Marshall to grab her hand, stopping her. Y/n turned to look at him, immediately noticing the realness in his eyes.

“Sit. Please.” He asked, his voice firm.

Something about his serious tone made Y/n give in and sit next to him. His hand let go of hers.

“You know I was just messing around right?” He went back to resting against the wall. “I was just teasing.”

“Right, is that why you stopped me from leaving? To tell me that?”

“Mhm.”

A moment of silence and hesitation hung in the air between them. Y/n looked around, trying to escape the awkwardness surrounding her in the room. 

They had a quick second of eye contact, in which Y/n was able to take a proper look at Marshall’s face. His eyes looked drained from any emotion, and looked hollow and empty of any feelings. His lips were lightly pressed into a small frown.

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked.

“I'm fine.”

“You seem off.”

“Just stressed.”

“From work?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why don't you take a break?”

“It's not that easy.”

“Maybe you need some to help you take your mind off it.”

“That's what this is for. Proof and Denaun were concerned I was overworking myself.”

“Maybe you are.”

“Maybe I am.”

Another beat of silence quickened in the air, although quick, it was slow enough to let tension build up even more.

“And you?” Marshall asked. “How are you doing?”

Y/n sighed and leaned against the wall next to Marshall. “I'm stressed with work too. My boss is driving me nuts.”

Marshall let out a quiet chuckle. “It can be like that. Maybe you need something to help take your mind off it too.”

“Maybe I do. But nothing ever works.”

“This is.”

“What is?”

“This. Us talking. It's nice to have a moment like this when we're not at each other's throats.”

“That is true. Very true.” Y/n smiled to herself, realising how tranquil the conversation was between them, the complete opposite to their many ones in the past.

“That dress looks nice on you.” Marshall mumbled.

“Sorry?” Y/n had to double check that she heard him correctly.

“The dress looks nice on you.”

“Oh.. thanks.” Y/n replied, still trying to process the moment.

“What, do you not believe me?”

“No, I do. It's just, I never would've expected that from you.”

Marshall let out a small hum in response.

“I know I said I hated it, but I think the blonde hair suits you.” Y/n said.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She kissed her teeth and nodded slowly. “It's uh… cute.”

They both turned their heads to look at each other, making eye contact. This time, they didn't turn away in a second or disrupt the moment. Instead, they let it grow. The tension between them reached a high point, to which it grew thicker and thicker. Like a rope, attached to the both of them, bringing them closer and closer to each other.

As the distance between them shrunk, Y/n glanced at Marshall’s lips. She took notice of how soft and pink they were. And in that moment, the space between them closed, letting their lips touch. She brought her hand to the back of Marshall's neck, bringing him closer to seal the kiss.

Marshall placed his hands on Y/n's hips and moved her closer to him, placing her in his lap. As the kiss continued, with each second, they both realised that this wasn't a useless kiss that was empty of emotion. But rather, fill to the brim with sparks and feelings. They pulled away, intensely looking at each other, unable to take their gaze away. 

“Do- do you wanna carry on?” Y/n asked shyly, her voice quiet.

“Yeah. I'd like that. It'll be a while till they come back.” Marshall replied, his voice sounding eager.

Immediately after that response, they pulled in for another kiss. This time, there was desire and passion behind it. Marshall pulled the hem of Y/n's dress, asking permission to take it off. She took it off in an instant, leaving her in her lingerie.

Marshall pulled away to take a look at Y/n, admiring her. His eyes travelled along her body, taking in her curves and perfect figure. 

“Gosh, you're beautiful.” He murmured.

She couldn't help but smile as a deep splash of pink reached her face from the flattery of Marshall's compliment. The next few minutes were a blur, clothes came off in quick seconds and were tossed onto the floor.

Marshall kissed along Y/n's neck, murmuring a string of sentences under his breath as he laid her down on the bed. He cupped her breasts and massaged them softly in circles, watching with intent as Y/n squirmed under him.

“I need you Marshall.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Marshall inserted himself into her, letting out a guttural groan from the pleasure. He started moving, first slow and steady rolls with soft pressure that soon turned into fast and hard thrusts, each letting a ripple of arousal through Y/n.

His dick moved against her velvety walls in smooth and quick motions. Y/n's airy moans and Marshall's throaty groans mixed with the sounds of their skin slapping against each other and the bed creaking. The temperature in the room increased, as their faces became more flushed and sweaty.

With one last thrust, Marshall came inside, letting his hot, thick spurts of white string squirt into Y/n and coat her walls. She let out a loud and pleasant moan as her eyes rolled back to the back of her skull, being overdriven from the delightful feeling. Marshall collapsed on top of her, his weight mode comforting than crushing.

“Wow… I really… needed that.” Y/n whispered, taking breaths in between her words.

“Gosh…yeah.” Marshall replied softly into her ear.

They stayed close to each other for a minute two, basking in the sweet moment between them as they tried to catch their breaths. That, however, was quickly stopped when the muffled voices of the rest of the group were heard outside, coming back with the pizza.

“Shit, they're back.” Marshall said as he got off from Y/n.

She wished he could stay on her for longer but she knew she couldn't risk letting her friends see her like this. The pair scrambled to put their clothes back on and fix themselves up before the group returned. They heard the door to the trailer clock open, Y/n decided to quickly jump over to the bed opposite.

The door to the bedroom swung open, revealing the group holding their pizza boxes. 

“Who's hungry? We've got pizza!” Proof exclaimed.

“Everything okay?” Ashley asked.

“Yeah, yeah. We're fine. I just took a nap.” Y/n responded.

“Huh, well we're gonna have pizza outside. Come join us when you're ready.” Carla said.

And with that, the group left the room, closing the door behind them as they went outside, ready to start their pizza feast.

“Well, we should probably go eat then.” Y/n said.

“Y/n. I like you.” Marshall said, his voice barely audible and gentle.

In that moment, Y/n felt a mix of emotions bubbling inside of her. Confusion, shock and surprisingly a sense of happiness and relief too.

“You like me?” Y/n asked, her voice matching the gentle tone in Marshall's voice.

“I have for a while. I didn't know how to approach you with it since you hated me.”

Y/n felt a twist of guilt in her veins as she listened to Marshall. She sat on his bed and looked at him with intent, showing him that she was ready to listen and talk.

“I can't deny that what we just did definitely brought out some chemistry between us.” Y/n said. “I'd be an idiot to ignore it.”

“Are you saying that we should try… us? Like, us being a thing?” 

“We should. If that's something we're comfortable and ready for.”

“I am. Are you?”

“I am too.”

“Well then that's settled.”

“And if it doesn't work out, let's just try being friends then.”

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

Y/n placed a tender kiss on Marshall’s forehead before sharing a soft and warm smile with him. “Come on, let's go eat.”

A/N: Finally got this request finished! Hopefully you enjoyed it :))

[starfoam-saloon]

HNNNNN

Twst au but instead it goes like this;

One of the twst boys(whoever) ends up getting transported to your world with no magic. They wake up in your house after you help them when you found them in the alleyway on your way home like ouch dude. You find out they aren’t from this world after they do some magic so you guys spend the entire summer helping each other and comforting them since they have issues with themselves and being homesick or something. Yadda yadda yall fall in love and are dating during it.

One day, miraculously on the last day of summer, yall find the mirror and that twst boy is sent back after yall promise to find each other again. Maybe like a years later(idk imagine time runs differently there) you’re getting ready for bed and you wake up in that coffin.

Something something and you end up starting your first day at NRC. Yayyyy!!!! And when you meet the twisted wonderland guy, at first glance yall immediately know each other and yall are just being cute and everyone who knows you is like “HUH???” Imagine meeting Ace and he can’t bully you cause oh no that’s his idiot. Meeting riddle and he immediately calms down. Meeting Lilia and silver is just like “huh.” Or it could be the other way around. Ruggie seeing Leona all soft and he’s just like “when???!?!!??” It’s such a funny concept to me cause imagine you and Ace are together and your friends are like “Ace how did you pull on the first day” and before Ace can stroke his ego you just say “he stuttered 15 times trying to ask me out”

OH OH imagine meeting Vil and he’s like “and who is- oh hello dear- and WHAT-???” Vil tenderly holding you as the rest of the VDC group is just shocked that Vil mr popular had a lover. Or any of Octavinelle thinking it’s a bit strange that one of them is really good at walking since they don’t believe either of them when they said they went to the human world for the entire summer. Jade or Floyd just think the other explored the ocean the entire summer idk—

Jamil angst a bit cause he thought the one he loved would never be here again and feels slightly betrayed when they ask for help from Azul of all people. But just appreciates them entirely either way cause yeah. If you’re dating either of the overblot boys I guarantee they aren’t gonna let you get in the way and might keep you at a distance while you try to help your friends. (Yum favoritism)

Or dating one of the RSA boys so imagine their shock when Chen’ya kisses you at an Unbirthday party when he steals some food. Or Neige hugging you and saying all kinds of honeyed words with heart eyes as he sees you again. Is a bit sad you’re in NRC.

AND MY FAVORITE ROLLO!!! Like imagine he’s just being all dramatic and he sees his lover and just opens his arms cause he knows they’re gonna jump in them. Rollo trying to not be jealous since Mallues seems to care a bit too much about his lover(Mal just wanna be a good friend I swear). He keeps you in the bell tower to try and not get you hurt but you end up accidentally falling with the others. Yadda yadda, you stay with Trein even if you’re the most stubborn person on the planet, and you eventually pull him to the side before Malleus can do his whole ‘imagine losing to me lmao’ thingy ig. And the two of you talk but you two eventually just love and care for the other and when you leave the others are asking if y’all broke up to which you reply “um… nuh uh.” While holding a letter from Rollo so you two can write to each other (he texted while he cans and calls you but he likes to send letters since he thinks it’s romantic and reminds him of the love letter he gave you in the summer in your world.)

They love you lots, so don’t be too surprised if they feel like they want you to stay here with them. :(

IF ANYONE MAKES A FIC OF THIS USING EITHER THEIR TWST OC/SELF INSERT/ READER PLEASE @ ME/TAG ME I WOULD LOVE TO SEE YALLS THINGS WITH THE IDEA I HAD PLSPLSPLPS☹️☹️

[gremio0]

your limbus oc looks SO cool do you have any info on him.... he compels me i want to know more about him

HI HELLO thank you for opening the floodgates I have a lot to say about Bentinho actually. in the wise words of oomf I’m like a vampire and need to be invited into talking about my ocs otherwise I physically cannot do it

Don’t expect any structure from this I’m not particularly sure half of the words I’m saying even exist

Alright. So.

He’s based on the book Dom Casmurro by Machado de Assis (actually my favorite author of all time! I have a physical silver medal from a national literature olympic on this shit). Though it’s not really possible to directly translate the title, “Dom Casmurro” is a nickname given to Bentinho in his old age, “Dom” being a mockery of his high status and “Casmurro” meaning something between “stubborn”, “spiteful” and “grumpy”. His full name Bento Santiago is also interesting with “bento(a)” being a rarely used word for “holy” (as in “holy water”/“água benta”) and “Santiago” being derived from the word for “saint”, neither of which actually fucking apply to him; “Bentinho” is the diminutive form of the name. As an LCB Sinner, Bento is kind of an insufferable little bitch who I created with the explicit purpose of suffering the consequences of his actions as much as possible because he doesn’t get nearly enough shit in the book for being such an asshole all the time.

The Sinner Bentinho has a rather erratic demeanor, always literally and figuratively looking over his shoulder. He’s an arrogant and bitter man who doesn’t seem to be looking forward to much in his life. Although he does his best to maintain an appearance of collected elegance, his paranoia and jealousy often slip through the very plentiful cracks for all to see. He’s distrusting of most of everyone, and a pathological liar; talking to him can be rather difficult if you’re not careful with your words, as he has a way of finding non-existent malice in every other sentence, but it’s not particularly difficult to gain his favor if you know how to stroke his ego.

As for general Limbus stuff:

He has Midnight Green (#004952) as his signature color, and I generally use ☕️ as the emoji to represent him. The reference should be clear if you’ve read Dom Casmurro <33

He does not have a sinner number yet, but I’ve been considering #18 (because Machado de Assis, and consequently Bentinho, lived around the 1800s)

The word engraved in the hilt of his rapier, “Desprezo” (NOT to be confused with “depressed” it’s happened too many times by now) is, in portuguese, the feeling of despising something or someone.

His base EGO is called “Tu Serás Feliz”; “You Shall be Happy"

In his LCB Sinner Identity, he has Lust, Pride and Envy sin affinities.

His Canto is called “The Truth Revealing”. It would be placed somewhere from mid to end game, as the way it’s structured would require Bento to already have established relationships with the other sinners. I’ve taken a lot of inspiration from the philosophy he presents in one of the earlier chapters in the book: “life itself is much like an Opera”. Notably, the majority of it takes place in a theater, visually inspired by the Rio de Janeiro municipal thetaer. I’ve reduced the cast of the book a bit to focus on the conflict between Bentinho, Capitu and Escobar, though characters like Ezequiel, José Dias and Dona Glória also play a part.

He has a lot of associations with opera and theater but it’s hard to elaborate on those without a full summary of his Canto. Maybe one day.

I think that’s just about enough information for a decent introduction but I’d be very happy to elaborate if there happen to be any questions. wink wink nudge nudge. He’s been very rudely occupying my brain without my consent for the past few weeks and I doubt he’ll be going away any time soon. He should die one of these days that would be great.

[hamsterclaw]

Fic Library: Jungkook (Part 1)

I realised whilst compiling this library just how many Jungkook stories I've read and recced. It's probably because Jungkook stories are far and away the most prolific on my feed and also probably because the maknae looks and acts like he does. I hope you enjoy these, don't forget to show these writers some love.

Rattled JJK x reader, single dad JK by @gukslut. The Jungkook in this story breaks my heart with his grit and humanity, and the MC is so relatable it hurts. If you haven't read this, do yourself a favour and be prepared to have your world rocked. Probably my favourite fanfic of all time.

The Cul-de-Sac Cons JJK x reader, JHS x reader, con artist AU by @bonvoyagenoona. I've read and re-read this a lot, the love story between JK and reader is fraught with intrigue and danger, and all the side characters - cuckolded husband Hoseok, Yoongi, Namjoon, are fleshed out perfectly as well.

Lonely Hearts Club JJK x OC, dystopian sci-fi tattoo artist AU by @joonbird. A story that made me think about fanfic in a completely different light, angsty and terribly sad.

Ego JJK x reader, fuckboi college AU by @suga-kookiemonster. A series that had me hooked from the first chapter, a rolling romp, with the perfect ending. Adore.

Feels like summer by @badbhye is a sweet, funny, coming of age story featuring reader and an grown-up, glowed-up next-door-neighbour Jungkook. Also features the immortal line 'Fucking Aquarius bastard' which makes me laugh every time I think of it.

Blink and you'll miss it by @satnin-darling is a fun, fast-paced story with great scene-setting featuring a street-racer reader and rookie lawyer JK.

Spin Cycle by @miscelunaaa is a slow burn series where reader meets Jungkook in a laundromat and their relationship develops over a collection of fun-size drabbles.

Damsel in shining armor by @jimilter is a follow up to the equally great Knight in distress and features chaotic chaebol JK and a competent, take no prisoners reader. A fast-paced, hilarious caper involving reader trying to do damage control as JK wreaks havoc.

Burning bright by @snackhobi is a Pacific Rim AU featuring Jaeger pilots Jungkook and reader, and an unforgettable classic in my book. I love this, and it always reminds me how damn talented fanfiction writers are.

Ghosts just wanna have fun by @sugaxjpg is about a Jungkook who has the ability to see ghosts set in a med school AU and features Yoongi and Taehyung as cockblocking spirits. Sweet and so, so funny.

Blackout by @bonvoyagenoona is set during one night when the entire neighbourhood loses power and Jungkook and reader navigate the neighbourhood block party. It's the perfect romantic almost first date.

Under the stars by @madbutgloriouspond is a sweet, cute, fluffy, real story about Jungkook and reader in a college AU that I love, love, love.

THAT nose riding drabble by @here2bbtstrash honestly doesn't even need a title. JK is sweet, clueless but willing, and Yoongi? He's the voyeur of my dreams.

Disaster management by @jimilter is gold. Unruly chaotic chaebol CEO Jeon Jungkook is back, and company President reader is right by his side as they try to avert disaster.

Leave the door open by @here4kpopfics is a strangers to lovers neighbours AU story that makes me think about how annoying and irresistible Jeon Jungkook would be if he lived next door.

Car sex by @musicloverxoxo7 features co-workers Jungkook x reader who flirt their way to a smutty, sexy encounter.

Euphoria by @btssavedmylifeblr is a beautiful study of life, love and mortality that is one of the best stories I've read. Unforgettable.

Part 2

[purple-obsidian]

Your fic and your Ak Jason man, aaaaaauuughhh it's getting the brainrot even harder

I wanted to know your take on your ak Jason with a reader that treats him with the most gentle touch, the sweetest words (probably a reader with a savior complex). Cause I got the picture of Jason being defensive as hell as he feels like some kind of 'healing project' for reader or a charity case

thank you, my dearest anon <3 I am so happy that you enjoy!

i think you’re right, jay would get defensive and possibly angry at reader if he felt like he was being treated like a charity case. he’s very much in a state of mind where he’s trying to restore his dignity [after joker stripped him of it, to put it lightly.] I don’t think jason is the type to care too much about what others think, but he does, at this point, demand respect from his men and reader, even if he doesn’t give respect back. so being coddled or infantalized has the potential of pissing him off.

but in the same breath, i think jason would secretly enjoy being doted on in such a way. in my own au/storyline, i imagine him and reader were dating before he died, but they were like 16 or 17, super young and still in the honeymoon stage. they never really fought a whole lot, every real memory jason has of reader is a good one, filled with the excitement of being desired by someone for the first time and reciprocating love. having reader be extra gentle and accommodating to him and his needs would reinforce that idealized image of her in his head, and make him feel even safer with her.

the reoccurring theme here is the back and forth, the mood swings, the instability of his mental state and ego.

a lot of his reaction would depend on the context. in front of his goons or other criminals, he would be embarrassed and pissed at reader if they were to be all sweet and gentle with him. [in ‘say it back’, I briefly referenced a time where reader told jason she loved him in front of his militia and he just laughed at her, same energy here.]

if they were alone, i think he would tolerate it or even play along until reader said something to set him off. in ‘let go’, we see him stay calm and level-headed while reader is patching him up, but as soon as she challenges him and his way of thinking, he’s triggered and has an extremely emotional response.

i didn’t want portray reader in that ‘savior complex’ way, though. thats one of the struggles for me with doing reader inserts instead of oc’s. for complex storylines like this, it’s hard to not imbue reader with some personality or assume what they would do. but i wanted to show that reader is also very much at war within herself, knowing jason’s treatment of her is wrong but being so in love with him and worried for his well-being that she can’t bring herself to abandon him, even if it would be well within her right to do so.

remember, jason was robin. the best of the best. a shining star among the ever-growing darkness that is gotham. he used to be her hero, everyone’s hero, and she still sees him in that light, and hopes he will find himself, hopes that her love and support will be enough to fill the dark void in his heart. not because she sees herself as his savior, but because she knows jason won’t let anyone else get close to him or help him, and she just wants him to be happy. which is why i am trying to write her as extremely tolerant but still confident enough to challenge him or correct him on things. she wants to remind him who he is, and encourage him to be better. she’s also, of course, somewhat scared of him now too, which brings up a whole other topic. i have another ask in my inbox talking about that so i’ll save it for later.

tldr; having reader be extra gentle and sweet with him would probably confuse his emotions even more, adding to his ups and downs, resulting in more yelling but also open him up to some more moments of vulnerability. deep down he craves such gentleness, but he struggles with allowing himself to accept it because of his deep-seeded insecurities that were exacerbated by jokers torture and manipulation.

thanks for the ask!

xoxo sid

[heyyypuddin]

Withering Petal (Armando x OC) Bad Boys chapter 5

Hey puddins! I finally have posted Chapter 5. Sorry about the wait I kept changing things up. Just know this is a longer chapter.

I really hope you enjoy, and I would love to hear your thoughts! Enjoyy 💕

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5 

Amora entered the black-and-white guest room that held a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, facing a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall surrounded by lots of paintings. Armando entered through the door after her, inspecting the room, looking at all the art she had in the room, and raiding an eyebrow at one of them.

“You can go use the bathroom to shower; the bathroom is right across the walk-in closet, and there should be towels and spare clothes you can use. They should be large enough to fit you for the time being. I’m going to go check on my dog, and then I’ll bring the first aid kit so I can start on your injuries.”

Amora finished explaining, and she looked at him, making sure he got everything or had questions. He gave her a curt nod and headed to the bathroom, where she heard the shower turn on, and she quickly turned on her feet, walking out of the room to go run up the stairs, giving multiple glances over her shoulder to make sure she didn't see him trying to run up on her.

She gets to the top floor and calls out for Bowser, hearing his whines coming from her room. She took one last glance behind her to make sure Armando wasn’t sneaking behind her, then glanced down her hallway to see the aftermath of their fight. 

On the wall was smudged blood, and littered on the floor were broken glass and soggy, wet food from what she had brought up for him originally. 

She sighed and ignored it for now so that she could check on her baby. Going to her room, she immediately checked under her bed, pulling up the sheets, and saw her baby giant Schnauzer hiding under there.

"Awwwww, baby, come here." She extended her arms out, and he slowly crawled his way out into her arms. She carefully picked him up and sat on her bed, cuddling him and telling him he did such a great job. “I love you so much, baby. You were so helpful. Such a good boy. I'm so proud of you.”

She kissed his head and gave him more rubs, feeling the sting of tears falling out of her eyes as she finally got to relax and grasp the situation she was just in. Silent sobs wrecked over her body.

“You were so brave. I'm so proud. I know you were scared,” she mumbled in his fur, half talking to Bowser and the other half talking to herself.

After allowing herself to sit for 20 minutes with Bowser, she finally got up and checked his leg that he was limping on. There were no open wounds, and it didn't feel broken; it may possibly be sprained.

"Okay, baby, tomorrow I'll take you to the vet so we can get you all fixed up." She took him off her lap and set him on a doggy bed beside her nightstand so he could rest.

She walked over to her vanity mirror, inspecting herself through her puffy red eyes, and saw that she had a small cut on her cheek and a deep purple bruise starting around her neck. Letting out a huge sigh, she walked out of the room to the hallway, grabbing the first aid kit and pain medication off the floor, and headed back downstairs to the kitchen, filling up two cups of water for them, and walked to the guest room.

Standing in the room, staring at the TV, was Armando wearing her old gray sweatpants, laying very low on his hips, exposing not only all his wounds but also all his muscles. Her eyes raked down his body, going over every last crevice of his and down past his v-line to where his sweats started. Her breath hitched softly when she saw his member slightly pressed against the gray pants. 

From the corner of Armando’s eye, he watched her ogle at him, feeling a swell of pride and his ego bloom. “Maybe this stay wasn’t so bad after all,” he told himself.

Not taking his eyes off the screen, he commented to the woman gawking at him, “¿Como lo que ves amor? (Like what you see in love?)

Amora quickly averted her eyes from him clearing her throat, embarrassed from being caught and putting her focus on what was playing on the TV to distract herself, but she quickly realized it was about Armando as they had his mugshot on the screen and news on police Captain Howard being fully exonerated after being framed by James Mcgrath, a former DEA agent who'd gone rouge. 

A light bulb went into her head as she was listening to the details of the news.

“Is that where you're coming from? She asked as she placed the first-aid kit and water on the dresser next to her. 

Without looking at her, he gave her a small nod, eyes now locked on the screen where a picture of the famous detective Mike Lowrey was on.

“Can you come sit on the bed, please? It's pretty late, and I would like to get some rest,” but she knew tonight she definitely wasn't going to be able to sleep with him in the house.

He moved to where she was standing, getting very close to her before sitting down on the edge of the bed. She stepped back away from him, not wanting to be so close since, truth be told, he intimidated her a lot. Amora reached over to the dresser, grabbing the kit and pulling out two packs of pain pills.

"Here, take these; they’re 500 mg each." He eyed the packets suspiciously and reached for them, only holding them in his hands. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed one packet out of his hand, ripping it open and taking the two pills dry to prove a point, and since she needed it for the headache she was gaining 

"Again, I didn't do all the work of helping you, just to kill you." She reached over again to pass him another pill packet and his water.

“Why are you helping me?” The quiet question came from Armando's lips. Amora slightly stilled before grabbing the alcohol wipes and the stitch emergency kit.

“When I saw you outside, I thought you were maybe someone who was sent to find me, and I wanted answers, but now... I don’t know.” She opened up the alcohol wipe and gripped his broad shoulder to inspect what looked like a stab wound that looked pretty deep but clearly didn't hit any main nerves, just his muscles.

“You might wanna embrace yourself; this is going to sting,” Amora grimaced before swiping over the cut. Painful hisses and grunts filled the silence of the room. Amora took a sneak at his face and saw that he squeezed his eyes shut, his jaws clenched. It's such a shame for him to be so handsome; maybe in a different life they could’ve met in a much different way, she admired.

“Dios mío, ¡apúrate ya!” (My God, woman, hurry up already) were the pained words, gritted from his teeth. 

Snapping back to reality, she quickly finished cleaning his wound up, picked up the needle and thread, and worked on closing up the 3-inch wound. This caused even louder, pained grunts and groans from him. She was halfway done to closing the cut when she felt large hands grip her hips, squeezing her tightly. Her eyes widen in shock, feeling a tightening in her stomach, but she doesn’t slow down, understanding this isn't an easy process.

Finally, she got to the end of the cut, closed it off, and started bandaging it up to protect it from any outside damage. He still had a tight grip on her and was breathing heavily, with his head hanging low and sweat dripping off his head. She grabbed more thread to work on the side wound he had been holding since she first saw him. 

“I’m going to need you to lay back, please, so I can work on this for you.”

Armando silently obeyed, sliding his hands off her and leaning back on his elbows. Amora looked around, feeling herself get hot and trying to focus on where she could get a good angel to do this, but where the wound was, she decided to step closer in between his legs.

Armando watched her intensely as she kneeled down between his legs so that she didn’t have to bend over, hurting her back. The image before him brings wicked thoughts to his mind. Does she even know what she’s doing? He wonders, but that all flew out of his mind as she started working on his wound.

Louder, pained groans echoed the room, as did a stream of Spanish cuss words spitting out of Armando's lips. Amora didn't understand everything he said, but she wouldn't be surprised if he cursed her whole family lineage.

She finally finished up that cut and stood up to quickly scan over him to make sure there were no other cuts that required attention. There was a slice on his arm, but it wasn't too deep for stitches, thankfully, but she still cleaned and bandaged it.

. “You should really go to the hospital; I know how to do a lot, but I'm not a doctor.”

He slowly sat back up, letting out a low groan. “No, I'll be fine; just pass me another pain pill." 

She quietly nodded and slid out from between his legs, doing as he told her. She felt his gaze piercing into her face, but he wasn't saying a word. She came to realize that he's just a man of few words. Or, at least to her, he is. 

She watched him take the pain pills and looked at him, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind, but Armando just stared, unspeaking. Rolling her eyes, Amora stepped away so she could go to bed until he finally spoke up.

“Who’s looking for you?” He watched her completely still at the question; he wasn't even sure if she was breathing. A heavy silence hung over them, the energy in the room going cold as the woman was clearly having an internal battle from the question he asked, but he didn't care. 

He wanted to make sure he wasn't getting involved in whatever drama she had going on, considering how paranoid the woman was to be so reclusive. "Probably a crazy ex-boyfriend,” he scoffed at the thought. If said ex-boyfriend tried to come while he was here, he would handle it personally; he wouldn’t allow anyone to disturb the freedom he finally has. 

Coming out of his thoughts, he realized another moment of silence had passed, and he felt irritation rise at the unanswered question. He parted ways to ask her again. “Who is Lo-?”

“-Vicky Ortiz,” she cut him off. Armandos face fell in shock; his eyes widen in recognition of that name—definitely not an ex-boyfriend problem.

“Vicky Ortiz? As in Victor “El Segador” Ortiz?” He questioned her darkly. Amora turned away from the man, trying to hold back the sting of tears that threatened to fall just from speaking that wretched man's name, but Armando stood up and grabbed her arm, spinning her back to him. 

"Why, of all people, would Victor ‘The Reaper’ be looking for you? A merc turned drug lord?” He grilled her face.

“What game are you playing at?” He seethed. He couldn’t help, but think this was some sort of set him up. Of all the people she could’ve named, she’s going with an enemy of the Aretas Cartel. 

Amora’s head snapped up, her eyes matching the flames in his. ”A game? A game! Do you hear yourself? Clearly, you know the man and what he’s capable of. What reason would I have to lie about something like that?” 

He continued to stare down at her before rolling his eyes and backing up. 

“Once I'm healed, I'm out of here. I don't want to be mixed up in whatever shit you got going on,” he told her, waving her out of the room. Amora's moth dropped at his dismissive behavior in her house for a question he asked.

“First of all, you asked me a question; I didn’t have to answer you! Second of all, nobody told your ass to pass out in my front yard; I was happily minding my own damn business till you came!” She raised her voice at him, but he turned around, dismissing her again.

“Callado. No quiero escucharlo." ( Be quiet. I don't want to hear it.)

“You know what? Whatever I don't owe you, A fugitive, ANY EXPLANATION! You’re welcome for saving your ass; I could've left you out there to die or called the cops on you—you selfish bastard!” And with that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut, but not before coming back and adding her door stopper to make sure he couldn't get out of the room again without her knowing.

Armando listened to what she was doing, not caring about the door stopper because that wouldn’t work on him but making sure she wasn’t on the phone with anyone or the cops, before laying on the bed, turning the news channel up, and looking at his father on the screen with some of the footage that came out of the battle zone he escaped from. 

The last thoughts floating through his mind before sleep took him were his father telling him he did well and that he was proud of him before sending him out on that boat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: guys this chapter made me so stressed, I was literally working on it alllll day and night yesterday even at work 💀 but I hope yall enjoyyy it 💕💕

Also if anyone knows a good translator website please let me know especially for (Mexican Spanish dialect )as I want to try to get as accurate as I can. Spanishdict and Itranslate been holding me down 🤞🏽

[the-divine-machine]

strawpage

#----IMPORTANT!!!---- print("I AM ON AN INDEFINITE HIATUS! I WILL BE BACK, BUT I AM NOT SURE WHEN. ASKS AND REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN BUT I WILL GET TO THEM WHEN I AM BACK. I WILL ONLY POST TO GIVE UPDATES ON MY KINITO UKAGAKA.")

#----INTRO---- print("Hello, world! You can call me Virgil or Ego, but names of characters I really like or relate to work as well (e.g., AM, Willard). Additionally, there's my stage name—Vincent Equinox(?) (I'm still trying to decide on a stage name) (I want to be a screenwriter/author and actor one day).")

print("This is my new account since some things went wrong with my old one. Hopefully this one runs smoothly now.")

print("By the way, I am semiverbal autistic so sometimes I struggle a lot with words so I apologise if some of my posts have bad English or seem incoherent. My tone also often switches between formal and informal.")

print("Almost all of the things I ship are platonic. I'm rather romance-repulsed and love-repulsed.")

print("I really like HAL 9000.")]

#----INTERESTS---- special_interests = [""mice", "technology", "Willard/Ratman's Notebooks"]

current_hyperfixations = ["aromanticism", "KinitoPET", "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream", "2001: A Space Odyssey"]

likes = ["rats", "Will Wood", "reading", "writing", "musicals", "Jekyll and Hyde", "Flowers for Algernon", "Robert Louis Stevenson"]

#----EXTRA----

art_requests = "open"

print("Buy my commissions here or contact me on Discord @\ethereal.equinox!")

print("My personal Discord is @\thedivinemachine, feel free to add me if you'd like")

pronouns = ["he/him", "it/its"]

gender = "male"

orientation = ["aroallo", "abrosexual", "ambiamorous"]

timezone = "GMT+8"

Tags

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#personal.exe - just things in my life

#thedivinemachine.ask - asks I get

#thedivinemachine.rb - reblogs

#my art.png- my art, excluding doodles

#art wips.exe - work in progress art

#doodles.png - my doodles

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#writing wips.txt - writing wips

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#equinox.exe - my persona

#my stories.exe - anything related to stories I'm writing

#art requests.exe - read it

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#mutuals/friends art.exe - others art but for mutuals

#mutuals/friends art favs.exe - mutuals art that I am holding hostage

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any tag with a name and .exe - either OCs or mutuals/friends, anons too but those end with anon.exe

something similar for stories above

#project updates.exe - updates for any current projects I am working on!

#rambles.txt - my rambles about anything

[space-writes]

oc deep dive tag

tagged many many moons ago by @talesofsorrowandofruin, thank you! he’s on my mind right now and I want to develop him a bit more, so I’m going to do these for my resident Underdark hot boy, Zeth’rinn Baenre.

[ID - a purple and black decorative divider]

Phobias and other fears

I wanna give him a phobia so i can poke at it later and make him Suffer…he’s afraid of being alone, like. really alone. solitary confinement without contact with other people would fuck him up. isolation, that’s what he’s afraid of. probably as an Underdark Boy he’s got a healthy fear of things like earthquakes and cave-ins, and of getting lost whilst exploring/scouting cave-systems.

Pet peeves

people who eat with their mouths open, wide-cuffed sleeves (yes you can hide a knife in there, they’re also really fucking annoying and get in his way), poets who don’t rhyme thinking they’re clever, anyone who says it BAN-ray instead of BEN-ray, and surface folk complaining about how bright it is when he and his sunlight sensitivity are standing right there

3 items you can find in their bedroom

sex toys

jewellery box

dagger

First thing they notice in a person

whether he finds them attractive. it’s just instinct, he looks and if he likes that gets filed away immediately under ‘potential avenues of interest to pursue’, and flirting will be a part of the interaction in one way or another like yeah he’s kinda shallow. but also, he gives a lot of compliments, and he usually means them.

On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

I’m gonna put him at a 5 - he can handle pain, and can handle more if he has to deal with it alone, or the situation is very serious, but if there is even one other person around he’s gonna complain about it. But despite the fact he definitely enjoys a little pain play in the bedroom, it’s more the threat of pain there he enjoys, not the actual hurt itself. he’s not really much of a masochist.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

hmm. i think fight mode, based on how he was raised. he wants to get out of the situation/solve the problem. sometimes this means he does stupid things and makes whatever’s happening Worse, but hey, at least he did something! he’s also more of a fawner as well - persuading or otherwise convicing someone not to hurt you by making them feel good, in whatever form that takes, is something of an instinct for him. growing up in Menzo and working with BD, where he definitely had to deal with a lot of egos and a lot of high-strung nobles and priestesses (along with Life Lessons From Jarlaxle) would have taught him the safety value in Talking Your Way Out Of Danger

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Bregan D’aerthe is a pretty big family in its own right, I’d say, even if he’s only blood related to one of them. And he’s also a Baenre, however much of a bastard one, so all of House Baenre are his family, but I don’t think he really considers them family; just relatives. He loves having lots of people to care about though. He likes knowing things about what everyone likes and dislikes, having so many people he can spar with, talk to, go on adventures with—he’s such a people person, and even though BD and Menzo in general aren’t necessarily friendly to his particular brand of enthusiasm, he doesn’t let that stop him from loving his adoptive family.

What animal represents them best?

hmm…cat feels lazy, but also kinda correct. a very affectionate cat, who always wants attention.

What is a smell that they dislike?

he doesn’t like the smell of Lolthite sacrificial ritual incense. Not sure what those smells might be, and they probably vary from House to House, but the smell of the incense used during Lolthite sacrifices brings back bad experiences of having witness such sacrifices. He’s not a Lolthite, though he does respect the Spider Goddess, and he grew up in Menzo - he’s definitely lost people to the altar before There’s also the scent of a deep, dark cavern - more of a non-scent, really - that makes him uneasy for some reason. The way the darkness of a deep hole smells, maybe? He’s not sure why, but it unsettles him. (I know why; it’s because he’s not a born drow, he was ‘gifted’ to Jarlaxle by an Entity as a ‘reward’ for some aid.)

Have they broken any bones?

I don’t think you get to be in Bregan D’aerthe all your life and not break anything. I think he’s broken his ankles and arms before for sure, and gotten them all healed up. Probably fractured various foot bones, too, broken a toe or three or four; some ribs definitely. Managed to avoid breaking anything in his face so far.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Flamboyant, cocky, pretty, pretty annoying, flirtatious, and talkative. Should probably put a real shirt on.

Are they a night owl or morning bird?

I want to say night owl, but I do also think he switches. Sometimes you cannot get him out of bed and functional for love nor money; sometimes he’s up with the lark and way too excited about life.

What is a flavour they hate and a flavour they love?

Hate: hmmm, let’s go with beer. Wine and mead and spirits he will go all night, but beer? absolutely not Love: can i say cum lol no but for real, I’m going to say cherries.

Do they have any hobbies?

hmmm…i think he likes writing poetry, though he keeps that a secret from literally everyone. and painting nails - i can see him enjoying the focus and detail of making beautiful patterns and art on a small surface, though I suspect he also goes through phases of having the patience for it and not.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

He’s so excited. He gets to be the centre of attention and he didn’t even have to whine about something first? Everything is now Directly For Him??? He’s the Specialest Birthday Boy?!?! Birthday surprises he loves. And other surprises; they give him a chance to try and show off if they’re dangerous, or to enjoy something if they’re pleasant.

Do they like to wear jewellery?

Hell yeah! He’s got multiple ear piercings, loves necklaces a lot, especially chokers, and also bracelets and rings. Necklaces are definitely his favourite, though.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Absolutely it’s messy. Whenever Jarlaxle or Valas or whoever tries to get him to do any kind of paperwork, it’s a nightmare. No, he’s no doing it on purpose, he’s just got terrible penmanship.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Curiosity and overconfidence (also lust. because of course)

Do they have a favourite fabric?

Does leather count? Because I think leather, though I think he also has a soft spot for anything, well, soft. Cosy boy. But yeah, he likes leather: the smell, the texture, the feel and look of a well-crafted piece. The taste :p

What kind of accent do they have?

A Menzoberranzan one - so very much like Minthara in BG3, only I imagine, since he takes so much after Jarlaxle, he’s got a little more bounce to his voice, and is a touch more casual/less particular about pronouncing words I also think he’s probably a bit of an accent chameleon, and ends up mirroring whoever he’s talking to sometimes; so when he’s in Mythen Thaelas a bunch, he ends up with a touch of MT accent for a while on certain words.

[ID - a purple and black decorative divider]

no-pressure tagging @foxboyclit @hagscribes @princessbonecrimes @lawful-evil-novelist @thegreatobsesso and anyone else who wants to share Blorbo Facts with me~

blank questions under the cut Phobias and other fears Pet peeves 3 items you can find in their bedroom First thing they notice in a person On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance? Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? What animal represents them best? What is a smell that they dislike? Have they broken any bones? How would a stranger likely describe them? Are they a night owl or morning bird? What is a flavour they hate and a flavour they love? Do they have any hobbies? Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? Do they like to wear jewellery? Do they have neat or messy handwriting? What are the two emotions they feel the most? Do they have a favourite fabric? What kind of accent do they have?

[sketchbook-gal-xe]

Allow me to introduce a heckin lot of mews!

...and mewtwos!

I have some art pieces in mind for them and i might make a few comics of their story.

feel free to ask me questions about them or the storyline

lore rant/character info below (there's a lot!)

A quick rundown of everyone's natures, personalities, etc.

Melody- She/They, N: Naughty; Silly, childish and Adventurous, but she is trying to be more mature so she can protect themself and Mirror. Soda is her twin brother.

Mirror- She/They, N: Quirky; She was cloned from Melody, so they are very similar personality wise; but the older she gets more they want to prove that she isn't just a copy and is her own person.

Sodalite- He/They, N: Careful; The responsible older brother type but he's still an idiot, often getting lost on his own train of thought. twin sibling of Melody.

Silver- She/They/It, N: Calm; She is based on the beta mew design, and it has seen a little bit of everything. adoptive guardian of most of the mews, though they have more of a fun and caring aunt vibe.

Tabitha- She/Her, N: Hardy; The mom friend, considerate in an almost spiteful way, half sibling of Soda and Melody (Tabitha is the oldest)

Polaroid- He/Him (any), N: Hasty; smug, sarcastic, annoying the way of "I'm going make this more difficult purely for the sake of tomfoolery!" he's also psychic/ fairy type.

Apricus- He/They/It, N: Relaxed; Shy, cheerful, somewhat timid but very open with those he cares about, they're also a mew/worm on a string (btw, Apricus and Polaroid are dating)

Mettle- He/Him, N: Modest; Wise, stoic but can easily crack a smile and joke-around, as mentioned in his ref he is blind, but with his strong psychic powers he can still see auras.

Nesh- She/They, N: Gentle; They are very quiet, kind and caring, she was made as an experiment to create a dual type mewtwo, so she is psychic/grass.

Saccharin- She/Her, N: Adamant; She's aloof, bold and has a bit of an ego, she was made in the same lab Nesh was from, they escaped together, she is VERY protective of Nesh.

Sorry for wall of text, I'm very passionate about my oc's.

(also i already have like 6 more characters in mind aaaaa someone stop meeee)

[sophelisticated]

I know nobody follows me yet… but I made… someting for @bamsara, they don’t like being idolized but they are so cool to me they are my INSPIRATION. Shakespeare hangs its head in shame at how good Bam’s writing is

Anyway I made dis, it’s a oc insert in bam’s rehabilitation of death fanfic! It’s not very good, but I awoke in the night and brain exploded in ideas.

Word count: ~1.2k

(SPOILERS FOR THEIR FIC, PLEASE BE WARNED)

-Sleep Like the Dead-

The One Who Waits is patient. It’s in his title. Even so, ever since the entrapment of being in this mortal, lowly body, his… ‘nightmares’ have become more than a mere nuisance. Narinder has awaken with more bile in his throat, more of his godly blood spilled from his eyes. And most importantly—he has grown more irritable. The lamb had noticed that the god of death’s patience for their silly rants have been shut down sooner than usual. Though Lambert has pressed Narinder for information, the vessel is met with a sneering cat showing it’s back to them.

It was a night such as all the others. The former god of death sat in his bed, meditating, but found himself distracted. He did not want to go to sleep, but he felt tired. His ego already shattered from being in a mortal body, he felt himself even more pathetic. A god being scared of some mere ‘nightmares’? It made him cringe at himself. But he knew that even if he slept, he wouldn’t gain anything out of it. His mind cannot escape the traitor. The lamb. That wretched, awful excuse for a vessel.

But the exhaustion tugs at his eyes. And he complies quietly, though irritably. He lays down, and lays there with a grimace. Simply waiting until he falls unconscious.

He lays down at the trunk of the tree.

“Do not wander.” Narinder says firmly to Baal and Aym. They nod and go scurry off. They have been adapting well to the cult. The flock have been teaching Baal and Aym routines, but today? They get to wander. Narinder looks up at the beautiful tree he lays up against. The purple bark complimented its leaves and flowers. This year, it has exploded in color, more than it usual would. White leaves paired with multicolored flowers. The grass is warm underneath him. And strangely enough, it doesn’t decay. And he’s actually happy about that fact.

He looked out into the distance with a small hum of relaxation. He sees Baal stuffing flowers in Aym’s collar, and they go running off into a chase. But not too far. Just as Narinder asked.

“Is it nice?” A soothing voice comes from his left. Narinder doesn’t jump, nor get surprised. Like he somehow knew she was there.

It was a bird. A peacock. Her white plumage glittering in the sunlight, but glowing more on the rainbow feathers on her tail and the primary and secondary rainbow feathers on her wings. The flowing white dress she wore went further than her feet, but she walked with grace. The white dress did not get any grass stains as she walked from behind the tree. She nestled next to Narinder at the base of the purple tree. Her caring, rainbow eyes scanning his form. Whatever the peacock is thinking, the cat cannot place it. Her wings fold at her sides. He answers back in a casual tone. “I enjoy it. I get to have some privacy from the lamb.” He scoffed. The peacock chuckled softly at his words. “It must be frustrating. Even having him plague your dreams. Thankfully, he is not here.” She speaks gently, tilting her beak at him. Narinder opens his mouth to respond, and he feels a lot heavier as he processes her words, and then becomes aware of his surroundings. He narrows his eyes at the peacock, but finds his body too fuzzy and warm to move away.

“This is not my memory. Who’s memory is this? I don’t-“ “Tis no memory. Never was, my dear.” The rainbow stranger cuts him off with a gentle wave of her wing.

“I am Oneiros. I am the representation of dreams, imagination, and creation.” She says calmly. Narinder notices that his body had relaxed, and his mind calmer. Something about her voice. It just made him calm. He stared at her for a long minute. And she simply stared out at the fields.

“Have you come to torture me in my sleep, as the lamb has?” The god of death glowers at Oneiros, but the glare doesn’t have the fierce energy he wants it to. It doesn’t particularly matter though. She just hummed softly at his words. “No, One Who Waits. I believed you needed a fulfilling rest, a rest filled with softness and warmth.” She spoke patiently, plucking a couple of flowers and beginning to make a little banquet. But gods cannot dream. He knew that for certain. This woman spouts lies, manipulating me into getting me think I can trust her, until-

“I do not lie.” She interrupts his thinking. He snarls at the reminder that his thoughts aren’t safe in the dreamworld.

“Yes, gods cannot dream. But in special circumstances, i can bless them with a dream. The circumstances I will not share with you, little cat.” Oneiros booped his nose with a rose. Narinder snarled, swatting the flower away. “Are you mocking me?” He sneered, and Oneiros made a squawk of laughter. “No, dear. I like giving my dreamers nicknames. Little cat will be yours.” She hummed, her eyes upturned with light humor. The god of death sneered again. He bristled, his tail spiking in irritation. “I shall pluck your feathers out, one by one, if you ever call me that again.” He snarled, his tail whipping back and forth with attitude. She chortled in amusement. “I have worse nicknames, my dear. But I will just call you ‘cat’.” Oneiros hummed. He huffed, but didn’t comment any further. His usual malicious tendencies were toned down more in this realm, he felt less argumentative, he noticed. The peacock then handed him a mini banquet of multicolored flowers. Flowers of such bright colors, he assumed they were exotic.

“I will come again when you are at your lowest. For this safe haven will always look different each time you are here.” She cooed. Bowing her head to Narinder. He took the flowers, and they didn’t wilt, even if he wanted it to. The peacock huffed at his attempt. Not upset, but a tad disappointed at his attitude.

He then heard the yelling of voices familiar. He had seen them earlier, but now that he is more aware, he stills at the sight of Baal and Aym playing in the flowers. He is silent for many heartbeats. The pair stare at The One Who Waits, confused.

“Are they here?” He asked gruffly, but there was a tone of longing in his voice, which he cursed at himself for letting slip out. The question didn’t make much sense, but Oneiros understood. The rainbow peacock took notice of Narinders uncertainty. Almost desperation. At this, her eyes softened in pity.

“No, sweetheart.” She said gently, a motherly air. She put a wing on his shoulder, the softness of the feathers slightly against his cheek making him swivel his head to look at the bird.

“Nothing in this realm is real. I’m sorry, dear. Wake up, and be refreshed.” Oneiros commanded, blessed. Brushing her rainbow wings against his forehead, and his insides felt fuzzier. The warmth of the grass becoming unfocused as he felt his body drop.

He slowly sat up, and he checked his face and sheets. No bleeding. And he felt better than he had in weeks, probably even months.

He didn’t find the company unpleasant, Narinder just wasn’t used to it. He felt like he could handle 20 hours of the lambs rambling, and 10 minutes was already straining it. So to say he felt better was an understatement.

He’d be hoping to visit that realm again soon. Maybe see if the rainbow peacock has any insight on what to do when godly power is shared between two people.

[hyper-cryptic]

⟢ Heart of Chaos AU: The Masterpost!

❛❛ Oh, great Master Emerald, please, I wish for a brave hero who is the balance between Chaos and Peace. One who never backs down in the face of danger, who doesn't stop fighting for their friends and what is right! Might a brave equidna warrior be their fiercely loyal friend, let them fight alongside as if they were kin. Seal this evil away, amending the horrors done by my tribe...❜❜ — Tikal The Equidna.

Welcome to the HoC masterpost! Here I'll give the bullet points on each arc and get down the basics of this AU!

Originally posted: 15/11/24 | Last edited: 15/11/24

◊—› So, what's Heart of Chaos about? . . .

In a nutshell, what if Sonic was The Master Emerald? We get Dark Sonic back and also, I am obsessed with werehog, so we get a redo of that as well as every single arc rewritten, for the most part (there's some I don't have enough knowledge about some of the spin off games heheo). There's a lot of themes of generational trauma, self-worth, losing the sense of yourself and finding it again, etc.

↳ Basic navigation . . . Heart of Chaos Tag | Heart of Chaos Bsky tag | Toyhouse folder ↳ Cast's tags . . . Patch The Painted Dog | Maple The Sable | Oakley The Opposum And yes the canon cast don't have tags because I thought it would be redundant since its all I draw...just search their canon names in my blog!

Below are the arc bullet points.

Soon to be added: Illustrated timeline, trivia, and more!

"Origins" segment

Spikes Toodlerhood arc.

- Basically spikes being raised by Tikal and creatures of Angel Island. Tikal seals herself and Chaos in a pond next in Spikes' birthplace.

Ecoterrorism arc.

- Basically the events of Origins. Spikes gets civilized by Miles and Ames. Spikes meets Knux and then Ignis.

House arrest arc.

- SA 1 happens and Spikes feels forced to stay in Angel Island after being revealed to him that Dark Spikes is a thing. He spends the time there training his ass off with Knux. Predictably so, Spikes doesnt like staying in one place, so he and Miles sneak off to mainland, which is where he meets the babylon rogues for the first time.

- SA2 happens. Shade <3

- Sonic heroes happens. Spikes is super excited to have Shade back, he tries to bond with him... Pretty succesfully so.

"Godhood" segment

Speeding ticket arc

- This is basically the Sonjet, or how I like to call em, Speeding Ticket arc. Funnily enough, this is also where Spikes begins to realize he's aroace but not yet. I havent changed a lot bc I rlly like the riders games.

Dimensional travels arc.

- This is where all the weird shit happens with Rings and Black Knight. And also Snoutman. Snoutman is canon to the Heart of Chaos universe. Black Knight is the most focused on, it's more of an open world game, but in the same way frontiers is.

S2HT arc.

- ShTH happens. Eclipse The Darkling is in ShTH events and is presumed dead by the end of it. Sonic 06 happens and we discover what happens when The Master Emerald itself dies. There is Sonalise, this is where Spikes fully realizes he's aroace and only experiences queerplatonic attraction.

Sonic Colors happens after Sonic 06 and is where Spikes has is birthday.

"Happy birthday" segment.

Werehog arc.

- This is A Lot, but basically this is the arc where Spikes is given a wake up call and slap down to his ego. This arc is pretty grim, but it has a lot of good moments too. It spans for more than a couple months while they try to fix Mobius again.

Generations arc.

- After losing Chip and going through the horrors, Spikes begins travelling a lot and finding comfort in his friendnship with Shade. Then crazy shit starts happening, there is no classic spikes or anything, but Mephiles does come back as the Time Eater. More Sonelise and Milkshake moments and actually also Shadlise, YEAH YOU DIDNT SEE THAT COMIN DID YA-

Forces arc.

- Oh god. Well, lets start at the beginning. This is where my oc Patch The Painted Dog, "Sky's Spark", gets introduced. With him there is oc x canon with Howlite (Silver). He's also childhood friends with Tangle and Jewel. We also half meet Whisper during this arc.

- Spikes gets kidnapped by Infinite to power Eggmans invasion with Spikes' chaos energy aka, his life source. Spike is kept chained and restrained without the abiity to move his arms and legs for the majority of his stay there, so much that he loses the ability to walk which he realizes once he's being rescued. This is also where the frienemy-eggdad situation completely breaks as we learn that Spikes is inmortal, because Eggman attempts to kill him when he realizes that he doesn't need his power anymore and he can just create more Phantom Rubies to power his war.

- Pretty much the whole tone switches. During the war, a lot of the characters are forced to grow up, like Ames and Miles. Miles has almost a complete 180 from the cheerful kid he was before as he takes an important role in the war as the one who arms The Resistance. Knux basically makes him man up.

"Humbled" segment.

Post-war arc.

- Basically physical therapy arc for Spikes, he had to rush this slow progress for the sake of the war.

- We meet Whisper fully. Spikes and Whisper ond over being traumatized by war so much so that they feel they are no longer themselves.

- Mr. Tinker is a thing and Spikes has to deal with that. He ends up leaving Shade and The Chaotix on charge of watching him.

- Metal kidnaps Spikes bc he wants his awful dad back. She ends up running off after she realizes Eggman is gone.

- Starline happens.

Zombot arc.

- Pain, pain and pain! Spikes is not coping with this well at all. This arc is grim as hell. Shade sacrifices himself to save the few refuges left + Team Dark, he's one of the first ones gone. Spikes doesnt have his emotional attack dog anymore and he's always so close to losing it.

Milkshake & Co arc.

- Shade is back and now Spikes is codependent /j, he finally gets properly taught how to use his chaos energy in a productive way as well as help manage it.

- We meet Maple The Sable and Oakley The Opposum. Maple has a oc x canon going on with Cream!

Surge arc.

- Spikes gets a break? Too bad, let's break his peace. Starline's back.

- I dont have a lot written but basically, Surge and Kit are around for about 4-5 months. Starline gets fried and drowned by Surge and Kit before escaping.

- Surge and Kit are out to get Spikes & Miles.

- Kit and Miles do get in a fight. Kit loses, miserably.

- Surge is pissed the fuck off about it bc they kidnapped drippy and she's alone...with her thoughts.

- She attacks Spikes at night after following him, planning to kill him. They get in a fight, Surge "kills" Spikes but he's able to finish her in his Shattered form. She's dead for a while before she wakes up again.

- She tries killing Miles and Spikes again, Shade is fed up with her shit for trying to kill his weirdo and atom bombs her pretty much. Now she's gone forever.

- Kit and Miles actually do bond.

Generational trauma arc. - Knux and Spikes' beef finally hits the fan. Knux has been stressing about Spikes being almost killed again and he's just been being the worst pretty much. Spikes and Knux fight each other like dogs.

"Moonlight" segment.

Eclipse arc.

- To be added

Milkshake 2.0 arc.

- To be added

Crown of Thorns arc.

- To be added

[arthurmorganson]

CAN WE LWEARN ABOUT YOUR OCS (FROTHING AT THE MOUTH)

YES!!! I have full lists on foretelling with all my OC details (and half of them aren’t written up yet) but i’ll give you the gist of all of them basically! The main idea is that at one point all their stories intersect and they form a gang (which has a subsequent fallout too). this all takes place around the 1870s-1880s and up. the characters are below the cut!

Elijah Beckett - young, skittish drifter with a knack for maps and traveling. he has a scar that splits his lip open, generously gifted by his drunkard father in a fit of rage. he got his outlaw status by killing his dad in self defense and running away, relying on petty thievery and pickpocketing to make do throughout his travels. he’s a nervous young thing, who doesn’t know that he’ll end up taking after his father, turning more to melancholy than to violence

Marion Lloyd-Wheeler- the pretty lady that asks you if you want to have a good time for a price in the corner of the saloon? that’s a con-man, and he’ll get you drunk and steal all your valuables. he’s also not exactly a man, after playing this persona for so long, feeling conflicted about separating his “job” from his identity. closed off and wonderfully suave, he can talk a dog off a meat wagon.

Jacob Montgomery- the most stubborn man you’ll ever meet. A calculated, skilled bounty hunter whose own ego led to his subsequent fall into outlaw status. Priding himself on managing to kill all his bounties in a timely, efficient manner, he neglected the part where he had to bring multiple people in alive, in turn getting into a kerfuffle that escalated to the point where his partner ended up dead. ever since, he’s gone into hiding, breaking into his stored funds to cope for a year, at the bottom for a bottle. though he soon cleans up his act when a gang comes and takes him in

Wyatt Doherty - a mountain of a man who could crush your head like a watermelon. why would he, though? he hates violence. and yet he finds himself in a troubling predicament, having to illegally take up underground boxing for money to send back to his folks and younger brother in Ireland. a family man through and through, he feels conflicted having to deal with such violence when he promised his parents that he’d go to America to find good, clean farm work and send back every bit of money he makes. a sweet, slightly dim man, but full of love

Dalia Ladrón Ruiz - keep an eye on your horse whenever she’s around because she won’t hesitate to gently coax it away and take it to the nearest livestock market or horse auction and make a pretty penny off it too. a notorious horse thief driven out of Mexico because she stole the wrong person’s horse(s, plural), she finds herself with a rather sizable bounty on her head as she flees towards the wild American west. a strong, determined woman, with an abrasive sense of humor and brutal honesty

Samuel Jude Orson - it’s a miracle a man like him manages to enter his late 40s. a once-notorious outlaw, he managed to flee and leave his past life behind, finding work at a ranch who’s owner asked no questions, and was just happy to have a diligent, working man helping him with daily tasks. quiet, closed off, and blind in one eye, he doesn’t make for a particularly good (or disarming) conversationalist. he will soon realize he has a lot more to deal with when he manages to connect and bond with the ranch owner’s daughter, and finds his own past coming back to haunt him

Willow McCarthy- respective daughter of the ranch owner. a sweet, hardworking farmgirl putting in the work and the muscle to help her dad out at any given occasion, jovial and kind to the bone. she talks the ears off all the helping hands around the ranch, especially one named Samuel. she finds his stories fascinating, but opts to not tell her dad the full extent of her knowledge of Samuel. little does she know her life will shift entirely from what she is used to, getting falsely accused of a crime she knows she didn’t commit. she ends up on the run with her acquaintance-turned-mentor, Samuel, learning to toughen up, and cope with her new outlaw status.

[marquis-of-fate]

Break me, make me Change everything I am Take me, wake me Before I'm forever damned I don't know what it is like to feel Anything other than what I'm feeling Take me, wake me Before I'm forever damned - Indie Blog for Hazbin Hotel OC - Mun & Muse Are 21+ - Multiship - Semi-Private - Minors DNI - Penned by Yeen

Sideblog, follows from @visage-of-hell Rules & Bio below the cut, for the convenience of mobile users! <3

DA RULEZ 1) I have zero direct affiliation with the Hazbin/Helluva fandom, I’m just here to write stories with like-minded peeps and have a good time. VERY anti-drama, keep it off my blog, please. 2) Absolutely NO minors, under ANY circumstances. If I find out that you’re lying about your age, it’s an instant block. This is non-negotiable, Hazbin and the Hellaverse are NOT intended for under-age audiences. 3) Though I’m an OC blog myself, I’ve had a lot of negative encounters with other OC blogs over the years, so if I don’t follow or reply to your OC blog, I promise it’s nothing personal. I’m just EXTREMELY selective with which ones I interact with, based on previous history. 4) I’m very open to shipping with this fella, so if you’re interested in shipping somethin’ … come yell at me about and let’s see what happens! 5) Smut will always be under a read-only, but I don’t require the same of those I write it with. -- CHARACTER BIO

Name: Orias (goes by Vega while disguised) Species: Ars Goetia Age: 32 Gender: Cis Male Orientation: Pansexual Occupation: Formerly the Marquis of Fate/Goetian Royalty, Currently a Performer at Overlord Visage's Club Residence/Place of Business: Pentagram City (Pride Ring)

– "Vega" Reference Art: Casual Attire Work Outfit Nude (SFW Version) Nude (NSFW Version) True Form Reference Art: Formal Attire Casual Outfit Nude (SFW Version) Nude (NSFW Version) –

Bio:

Born within a position of privilege and prestige like most of his Goetian ilk, Orias once reveled in his role as Marquis of Fate and Master of Prophecy, communing with the ordering of the stars and the cosmos to assist others in finding their place in the world and their true purpose. Always a vain creature, his motivations were less driven by a sense of duty and more as a means to pad his own ego by acting in ways that would serve to directly benefit him in some way. Be it elevating the stations of lesser beings that were favored by those in positions of greater power or casting down the enemies of those he wished to befriend, it was all carefully orchestrated for the purpose of political maneuvering. Fate was a malleable thing, so easily twisted and bent any way he wished ... so long as it catered to his whims and desires. The chiefest of his desires, however, was his wife Demora. Though an arranged marriage, Orias fell for her quickly and deeply, lavishing her with affection and gifts and making her the center of his entire universe. Indeed, much of his 'wheeling and dealing' was in pursuit of her desires to keep his beloved happy. Orias was a demon obsessed. There was nothing he wouldn't give her ... save for the one thing that he seemingly couldn't, regardless of how hard he tried--an heir. Years passed and the royal couple never successfully conceived, and yet despite the shame of this ever-present societal pressure to continue his legacy, his love for Demora never wavered. The same, however, could not be said for her. In her desperation to maintain her position of privilege within Goetian nobility, Demora began having covert affairs with multiple members of the royal family in an effort to finally conceive an heir and pass it off as belonging to Orias. Eventually, however, he would discover her dirty little secret and confront her. Assured that he valued his position too much to expose her and annul their marriage, she brazenly carried on with her forbidden dalliances for several more months, all the while the unwavering love Orias had held for her slowly withered into resentment. Eventually, none of his prestige and power seemed to matter anymore ... and the Marquis of Fate did the unthinkable--in the middle of a grand ball, in front of all their peers and betters, Orias finally outed Demora as an adulterer and declared their marriage null and void. Enraged, Demora soon managed to turn several of Orias' own legions against him and began wielding them with the intent of violently overthrowing the Marquis and seizing the entirety of his estate for herself. Those still loyal to Orias clashed violently with the betraying legions. Despite their valor and fealty to their Marquis, they were savagely beaten by those pledged to Demora, leaving Orias' forces in shambles. In fear for his life, he assumed a new false identity as a sinner and went into hiding. Stripped of his titles, influence, wealth and a great deal of his demonic power, Orias (now calling himself Vega) exists as but a shadow of his former self as he struggles to reconcile who he was with who he has now become. Only a trusted few know his secret and true identity.

[headhedgehog]

Don't try to protect me

Barou finds out his girlfriend was assaulted in the past. She doesn't let him make it about himself.

Barou Shouei x fem oc.

CW: r*pe/non-con (does not happen in the story but is a central plot point), sexual situations

Aged up characters/pro-player era. Everyone is over 21. MDNI, duh.

"Shouei, quit," she giggled, snuggled back against him.

"You really want me to quit?" he whispered in her ear, his bassy voice sending a shiver down her spine. He was spooning his girlfriend, holding her tight under the covers of their shared bed, his fingers teasing the waistband of her underwear. "'Cause I can feel how you're grinding your ass into me, babes, and it sure doesn't seem like you want me to stop."

She turned her head so she could look up at him, her brown eyes meeting his red. A devious smile crossed her face.

"Mmm, you might be right."

Barou grinned at her, moved to nip her ear. His fingers slipped under her panties, the tip of his middle finger finding her wet core. He whined quietly as he entered her, his lips ghosting across her neck.

"C'mere babygirl," he growled, pulling his hand back to grab her hip and roll her onto her back.

Almost instantly, her demeanor changed. She seemed to shrink underneath him, her expression blank and far away. Surprised, Barou pulled his hand away and moved to brush her hair away from her face, but she recoiled from his touch.

"Hey, hey what's going on? Did I hurt you?" Barou knew he was a big man, but he was careful with his woman, always worried about accidentally hurting her. Once, after pinning her hands above her head during sex, he saw bruises on her wrists and nearly wept. He was a monster on the field, sure, but with his girlfriend Barou was exceedingly gentle, almost to a fault.

"No, Sho, I'm okay. I just...can we stop?" her voice was choked with tears.

"Yeah, of course we can. Can I do anything?"

"Just hold me. Please."

Barou gathered her to his chest and ran his hand over her hair until her breathing evened out and she fell asleep.

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

She woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast. When she padded out to the kitchen in her robe, she found Shouei by the stove, flipping pancakes.

"Morning, Sho."

He kissed the top of her head and slid the final pancakes onto a plate, handed it to her. They sat at the kitchen table, Barou staring intensely at her, she carefully avoiding his gaze.

"Can we talk about what happened last night?" Barou asked, finally.

"I'm sorry, Sho, I just overreacted to something, you didn't do anything wrong."

"It's not an overreaction if it bothered you that much."

She blinked rapidly, looked away. He reached across the table and took her hand.

"I don't want to make you talk about it if you don't want to, but I also don't want to make you feel like that again. Can you at least tell me what not to do?"

She took a shaky breath, still looking away from him. "When I was a teenager, I let my boyfriend stay the night when my parents weren't home. We went to sleep, but I woke up in the middle of the night and he was having sex with me. I woke up when he rolled me over like you did last night. You didn't do anything wrong, I just...I dunno, had a flashback? It made me feel like I was under my ex again, confused and like I couldn't move."

Barou felt her body start to shake from across the table. He felt like he'd taken a cleat to the gut.

"Did you ever tell anyone?"

She shook her head. "I would've had to tell my parents I had a boy over, and I wasn't even sure it was really rape until a lot later."

"I wish you'd told me, I could've been more careful --"

She half-smiled at him, her eyes wet. "Sho, I know you, you would've tried to find him or decided that it was an insult to your ego, or something, and that just wasn't something I wanted."

Barou opened his mouth to argue but shut it again. He knew she was right. Even as they sat there, he was running through the ways he could find and murder the man who'd hurt his beautiful girlfriend, thinking that scum like that didn't deserve to share a planet with her -- or him.

"He'd deserve it," Barou muttered. She gave a wet, teary laugh.

"Wouldn't take away the fact that he raped me, Sho. I'd just also have a boyfriend who was in jail."

Barou set his jaw, flexed his fingers. He was going to be a menace at practice later, he could tell already.

"You're right, I'm just not happy you're right," he said after a long moment. She sighed, gave him a sad smile. When she stood to get more coffee, she kissed his temple.

"Just try not to make it about how upset you are, yeah?" she asked. Barou nodded. As he watched her refill her mug, he did his best to breathe and remember that protecting his woman didn't always look the way he wanted it to.