#oc: rha

[a-artist-a]

New picture for Rha!

[cloned-eyes]

more dad!ghoul cuz i love him

pspspsps @therisingdarkness

[itsxroxannex]

My sudden artist urge to draw your oc’s is way to over powering, I feel like I’m being crushed by all of your outstanding and inspiring artworks

I just. Dheuixbshshshshd

it’s amazing, you’re amazing. RHA.

FJAKGJSKGJKAKGK THANK YOUUU THANK YOUU!! 😭😭🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🥺🥺😭❤️🤌

[doll-in-the-oasis]

OOC UNDER CUT

So... I gave into temptation and made this. As far as I'm aware, no one's made a blog for UTY!Red. So here we are fhdjkshf-

This blog takes place post-pacifist, before Frisk falls. I didn't work out the specifics just yet, but I'll get there.

Red's pronouns are she/her by the way! Brick's pronouns are he/him! Violetta's pronouns are she/her!

And please make sure your questions are not inappropriate. Because I will ignore it if you send something like that- (Red is canonically a minor iirc) (UPDATE: Red is NOT a minor, I was mistaken. She's around 18/19 according to a friend. My bad-)

Other blogs are free to interact!

-RHA

OH! Before I forget, the text boxes are being made here, so credit to the owner of this website!!

Check out @dark-world-ballerina for an ask & RP blog of my Deltarune OC, Tutula!

[dark-world-ballerina]

OOC UNDER CUT

I know I said I wouldn't make another one, but... I got the sudden urge-

Anyways, this is one of my Deltarune OCs, Tutula. She's part of a ballet group that performed for King before everyone was moved to Castle Town.

Tutula is also a child, so please keep your asks appropriate. Ralsei will also be here to keep an eye on her, so feel free to talk to him too!

I'm honestly not too proud of how I made Tutula's sprites, so I hope it'll get improved some time in the future. Also, this takes place after chapter 2 cause that's all we have to work with. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

-RHA

(also, I have no idea if the underblog tag is needed here or if it uses a different one, so please tell me if I need to change it-)

Other blogs are free to interact!!

-------------------- Tutula (and her sprites) is owned by me

Deltarune (and its characters) is by Toby Fox

Text boxes are generated here

[circus20204]

I just finished this as of today a bit ago, this is an adult verison of a padawan oc of mine (first time drawing an adult twi’lek.

Her name is Sienn Rha

[ladymorghul]

That post is right in saying that Rh*enicent is made up by lots of people who don't actually like both characters in the ship. Like, they don't like one of the two women AT ALL. Which is weird bc how can anyone ship something while hating half of the ship essentially? TB Rh*enicents clearly hate Alicent as she truly is (book or show version) and their favorite ship dynamic is simply making Alicent betray her family, cower to Rhaenyra and beg for forgiveness while she's finally seeing the light, that yes the blacks were always in the right - which is also the fandom's usual dynamic between most team green/team black pairs (for example I'm not kidding when I say this is the plot for most Aemond/OC-Rhaenyra's daughter fics). As for TG Rh*enicents, there are indeed quite a few who don't like Rhaenyra and I've personally seen some of them making memes and jokes about her death or generally misogynistic remarks. Again, very weird! It's one thing to ship something and like one of the two characters more than the other, but it's another thing entirely to hate one of them whoever that one may be. I think the common thing between these two groups is that both dislike Alicent's children (bc how can anyone not like Rhaenyra's perfect ones) since they see them as a source of unhappiness for Alicent and they obviously stand in the way of their ship/happiness like you said in another post!

agreed with everything. and the worst thing about this is that ryan's vision of rha*nicent is much like those shippers so you know we'll be dealing with this type of thing in canon.

[anactualcartoondog]

i'm working on a new oc who is a clown and/or jester so i doodled some characters from @slocotion 's recent DYO contest to help me get in the mode. Attributions below the cut.

Unnamed(?) clown belongs to @sharkcroc (didn't spot a name in ur entry sorry if i missed it!) (love the cute Creature vibes of this one) Hale-Bopp belongs to @error404-user-not-found (the uneven eyes on this one are so clever!) Rosette Nebula @reboothill (a gentleman thief who's sweet face has stolen my heart~) Nebula by @whistlingstarlight (big fan of the Big Soft Shapes on this one. 10/10 shaped like a friend) Zoth-rha by @ladydeathofcrafts (i don't know if the eyes are supposed to be peanut shaped but i do love the idea of a clown with peanut eyes. because. u know. u eat peanuts at a circus. am i making sense.)

[a-artist-a]

a thin line

Jedi Knight Rha owes Darth Vowrawn a favour. It's far from their first meeting but being alone with a Sith is always intense. What are they to each other? Or: pre-relationship Vowrawn/OC

(also on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51022234)

This was a bad idea. Her instincts screamed at her to not go into the hotel, alone and vulnerable. Perhaps it was just her conscience, coming back from the dead for a last stand. Either way, Rha throughly ignored it. The message, a hand-written note, done in red ink, got delivered to her by a nervous servant a handful of days ago. Without opening the letter, she knew from whom it was. Who else would send an actual physical message? It was just right she went to the meeting. After all, a favor was a favor owed and no, the delicious sweets and bottle of tarisian ale did not influence her at all. Or rather, the promise of certain company.

It was far from her first meeting with Darth Vowrawn, but her nerves were alight with tension every time. If this was a trap – Well. It would just be ridiculous. And embarrassing. So damn embarrassing. 'Jedi Master Rhalaslin Rhadas of Demus, captured by Sith because she trusted Darth Vowrawn and followed him into a dark alley.' No, she could already imagine Verax' mocking. Maybe Obscurus was right and it wasn't a good idea to ally with a Sith Lord, but it wasn't like Mr. Traitor had any right to talk. It should feel insulting that all of her friends and family had immediately offered to help kill him and hide the body when it went wrong. Rha only felt warmth. A bit of humor, perhaps. She was quite capable of murder herself.

Meeting Vowrawn again, no, getting summoned by him, like a common servant, one of his many lapdogs, should feel any way but this. Insulting, a sacrifice for her goals, an debt repaid, yet it did not. By the Force, she was already blushing beneath her helmet. Vowrawn, well, he was charming, no big secret that, a master at manipulation and entrancement. His network of spies had been rumored to match Darth Jadus. Nowadays it should be the best, if Jadus really had died. Although it depended on what criteria one used. Obscurus had certainly more Jedi sources. But for how long? It was quite clear to her that Vowrawn tried to recruit her with this move. Her debt gave her the perfect excuse to come, an reason to ignore any guilt, an appeal to her honor. And, that she had to admit, if only in the sanctuary of her own mind, an appeal to herself. Why did she feel flattered?

It was far from the first time someone tried to charm her. Vowrawn might just become the one to succeed.

The honorable warrior was a role she enjoyed playing. It allowed her to present herself as a Jedi Knight and still be able to meet with the strangest people. 'I owe them' became the age-old excuse. Bounty hunters trusted her word, smugglers accepted her offers and far more important, far more rare, Sith Lords made deals with her. The number was low, but higher than any other Jedi could claim.

It was all a lie. She'd been trained by a Shadow and a Sentinel. She betrayed half of her allies and left none alive to tell the truth. Vowrawn wasn't on the list. Yet. The Council might change their mind. Hopefully with a better plan than for the Emperor. Less redemption, more death.

Ugh, she spent too much time with Sith.

White foam gathered where the waves hit the shore. It was twilight, twin moons bright in the sky and the singular sun falling behind the horizon. The hotel stood at the coast. She pulled up the address, just to be sure and hovered around the entrance. It was the right place, wasn't it? No guards in sight, only security. Likely all his people. Force, she should have taken someone with her. Just in case.

With her amour, it was easy to wander around on the planet, neither belonging to the Republic nor the Sith Empire. All in black, shoulders build broader than they actually were and a helmet without visible visor made everyone give her a wide berth. If she were to take it off, no one would ever recognize her. No one ever did. In the rare cases she got drawn into the war, she wore another set, Jedi Sigil white on her cloak and chest plate.

Twenty people. She felt no warning or particular intense emotion, no hatred, no focused fear. None of them force-sensitive enough to matter. She wasn't checked for weapons. Good. The human manning the desk clouded the Force with his anxiety, but waved her through with a stuttered: “He is waiting in Room forty-five, my Lord.”

Rha went up the stairs and down the corridor. Forty, forty-two, forty-four and then forty-five. She raised her hand to knock, it wouldn't do to surprise a Sith or any of his trigger-happy bodyguards. But before her hand could touch it, the door opened on its own. Darth Vowrawn lowered his hand.

“You came, my dear.”

He smiled that dangerous smile of his, and stood up from his chair. Rha bowed in the typical Jedi fashion. Vowrawn chuckled. He took her hand and kissed it. Through her gloves she couldn't feel it, but it made her heart beat faster. He knew what he was doing. Bastard.

“Wouldn't want to leave you waiting.”

The room was nice, soft and comfortable in a way that clashed with their black and red attire and the gleaming gold rings Vowrawn wore. It felt like home, the temple, with its pale blue and green tapestry and white curtains, an utter lack of red and orange. The only darkness in the room was her own armor and his force presence, although even that was restrained, paled out like the colors on the wall. A humming in the force caught her attention. A lightsaber laid on the commode. Vowrawn's lightsaber, set aside as a gesture of trust. It'd take but a second to summon it - but the symbolism mattered. After all, they were more than capable of killing bare-handed. Just a thought and she could snap his pretty neck. Two other doors went out off the room. Her amour could handle a jump out of the window and if she wasn't drugged out of the Force, she could catch herself.

“Please, sit.” He gestured to the other chair. “Something to drink? The wine is most delicious.”

“No. Thank you.” Rha sat down. No way she'd take off her mask for him.

“Why did you call me here?” she blurted out. Rha grimaced. Ugh. Too direct? Vowrawn always played a thousand games at once.

He smirks at her over the rim of his glass. “For an exchange, my dear. I do recall your promise.” His tone was pointed. She may have been in a tight situation when she made that offer, but to betray her word wasn't an option. Honor mattered not to her, but to trick a Sith out of what is his by right – not a good idea. Vowrawn was an valuable asset. She's sure the sentiment was returned.

“Darth Vowrawn. Have I ever disappointed you? I shall keep my word, just as you kept yours.”

“Oh, my favorite Knight, you'd never!” He paused. “Although, my old offer still stands. The Empire would be most delighted to have you.” He leant forward, smirking. “I would be most delighted to have you.”

“And my answer is the same.” Should she really say it? “Fighting against my fellow Jedi would just be too boring.”

Vowrawn chortled. “Now that's a truth! But you have been a rare sight, my dear. Is the Jedi Council keeping you away from me?”

“I am have been keeping myself away from you, not the Council.” she admitted. “Nothing personal, I assure you.” Really, only a Sith would complain about not getting to fight her. Not that they ever fought in personal combat against each other.

“But I have been wanting to test this adorable apprentice against you!” He pouted. Rha wanted to sigh. Why did he ever do anything to frustrate her? “Tell me, what have you been up to?”

“I do have a life outside of - “ She gestured widely ”- this.”

“Ah, but that is not an answer.” He wagged his finger at her.

“Is that you calling in the favor?” She raised her eyebrow, not that he could see it.

Suddenly his entire demeanor changed, all playfulness gone. “I will not press if you truly want not share, Knight Rhadas.”

She bowed her head. “I appreciate it, Lord Vowrawn. I do want to keep my – my people? A secret, even from you. We are on opposing sides,” she reminded him, “I will not engager my home.”

“I understand.” He stared at her, unreadable face and force-presence. “I suppose its time for business.”

“What do you want?”

“Everything.” Typical Sith. Rha rolled her eyes. ”I suppose for today it will be enough if you fulfill your promise. Will you?”

“I will honor my word, Darth Vowrawn.”

“Lovely. Now, my dear Jedi, I only have one small task for you. It should barely trouble you.” It meant nothing good, if he was talking like that. “And that would be?”

“A piece of information.” She waited.

“Go on, Lord Vowrawn.” “So impatient, for a Jedi.”

She sighed. “Vowrawn . .”

Her voice dropped into a growl. She didn't came here for this! He chuckled. “As you desire. I only require the location of the institution where a fellow Sith is held by you Jedi. Darth Irae. Have you heard of him?“

Rha considered the name. She knew enough about the various dialects and naming traditions to know it fell under the same fashion as her old master, Darth Obscurus, but she hadn't heard it before. “I have not.”

“You may know of him as the Lord Wrath, the newer one. And -” he leant forward “If I may say so, the better one.”

“I suppose you would say so. After all, he is not a traitor working with the Jedi. Or, perhaps, it is because he listen to your every word?”

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You know much about the inner workings of the Sith. Do not believe I have not noticed, my dear Knight.”

Was that a threat or a tease? Both? Either way, it was the truth. The young Lord Wrath was but one name in the list of Vowrawn many associates and suspected lovers. More important, there was a lack of information about him. It should not be. The rising star of the Sith had no past, no secret, no name. Who he was before his title was a mystery just begging to be solved. Alas! Not today.

“You are asking me to commit high treason.” “Is that a no?”

“No, I'll do it. If he is held prisoner by the Jedi, I will acquire the information for you.”

“Good.” He gestured. “Now that this business is out of the way, we may return to more personal matters.”

Rha swallowed. Personal matters. Right. Vowrawn implied it in his message, though, implied was too soft a word. They were slowly edging their way to something that, disturbing as it was, felt like friendship.

“This might end badly one day.” It was a half-hearted suggestion. She could die tomorrow, just as he, by anyone's hand or none at all.

“It might, dear Rha, but it also might not. I am Sith. I bend to world to my will. And what is a bit of murder between friends? I - ”

She cut him off. “Are we friends, Vowrawn?”

“Harsh words. Would you rather be called my – ah – temporary ally? A Jedi Knight who owes me a favor? My acquaintance from the other side, so to say?”

Rha grimaced. “Friends then.” She sighed. “You already know more of me than most other people.”

“Do I? A shame. More people should appreciate you. You are a most gracious partner in crime.” Vowrawn took a sip of wine. “And what a sight to watch in battle!”

“Thank you.”

“In all seriousness – how are you? I can sense your tension. Get comfortable, dear. They have a good selection of drinks here, and if one is lacking, my people are at your command. They will fulfill your every wish.” Vowrawn looked her over. “If you need anything to change into, I can provide, as well a selection of masks and veils.”

“How considerate of you.”

“Is it rare? I suppose in Republic space they have hangups about such preferences. Do they force you to take off your mask?” With his words, an snarl came over his face, gone as fast as it appeared.

“I got a medical permit, although the looks never go away.” It was a half-lie, but the truth could never be shared. Vowrawn tilted his head to side. “I was unaware. Tell me if you need any accommodations. I do want my friends to be well taken care off.”

“I appreciate it.” Rha bowed her head again. “I must say, I am surprised you did not knew. I am sure you have, ah, acquired much information about me.”

He laughed. “Oh, I do have! But you and your file are both wrapped in the sweet, sweet smell of mysteries. I'd love to unravel it.”

“Consider me unravelable?” She snorted. Fuck. Vowrawn's force aura had spread at some point, filling the room with dark energy and was a feverish cloak around her shoulders, nearly too hot. Not only felt Rha like she was cooking in her armor, she also felt just a bit drunk. Was that effect intentional?

After a moment she decided it was not. Force-Users were far more dangerous under influence. Vowrawn would not risk it, not after she declined alcohol every time they met before.

“I understand that you, as a Jedi, is satisfied by helping others and seek no power over others, only mastery of the self. But what do you wish to achieve?”

Well, leave it to the Sith to start with heavy question as get-to-know-you game. Rha mulled over her answer.

“As a Jedi I have already achieved what a Jedi should wish to achieve. Mastery of the Force, my body and my mind. I have proven myself by training a Padawan to Knighthood. There are some positions I could desire, a council membership, head of archives, Warden of the Order, Battlemaster and other honors.” Rha dragged a hand against her helmet, the gesture a leftover habit. Vowrawn watched her, eyes bright with power.

“But it – well.” she sighs. “I never wanted it. It was undeserved, Knighthood and Mastery alike. What can I want to achieve when what I achieved is – wrong?” She struggled to find the right words. It was a tangled ball of emotions, old pain and misery, a sense of wrongness and frustration. It could not fit words, at least hers. A capable wordsmith like Vowrawn might succeed.

“You seem like a capable Jedi to me.” Vowrawn's answer was slow.

“I am great warrior, an excellent killer, but not a good Jedi. The fact that I sit here with you is proof of that.” The fact that she'd fallen, utterly violent and gory, many years ago, and never quite knew if she'd managed to climb back into the light, was greater proof. Rha fiddled with the clasps on her gloves and took them off. She rubbed her pale, ever sunless, fingers against each other, tracing the few thin scars adorning her skin. His gaze followed her motions.

“I see your point, my friend. May I know why not?”

“You may not.” She grimaced and added: “May I know what you wish to achieve? I have some ideas, of course, but -” Rha waved an hand around. “It's guesswork.”

Vowrawn traced the patterned lines inside the wine glass. “Of course! I am sure its nothing too astonishing. As my kind so does, I desire power. I wish to follow my passions wherever they might take me, although I have achieved that already.” He winked at her. “I will exert my will over the galaxy and engrave my name onto its history, eternal remembrance in the memory of all people.” As he spoke, the dark side rose in response to his words like a thundering storm. Hot and cold, the sweetest seduction and the sharpest blade, unpleasant and utterly pleasing, all at once. Her fingers pressed against her legs.

Vowrawn blinked, the blaze in his eyes subsided and he apologized. “I do hope that was not too much, my dear. I know getting caught up in the other side can be quiet unpleasant.”

“I am fine.” She waved her hand. “Its not like you were trying to kill me.”

“Indeed.”

Rha stared out of the window for a moment. The midnight sky was bright, compared to home. So much moonlight. “Although . . I have wondered; how does the Light feel to you?”

Vowrawn tilted his head to the side. His earring glittered under the artificial light and threw sparks across the pale walls. “You're not about to try and convert me, are you?” His tone was light, nearly too cool.

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. I don't even want to think about you as Jedi.” The only way he'd ever become one was, if the council used rather . . strong methods. She'd rather kill him.

“As do I.” He threw his head back and laughed. His collar shifted, a glint of gold around his neck. “I would make a rather poor Jedi.” Vowrawn's fingers tapped against the glass. “Jedi are hollowed out, bleached in the sun, drained of colors, of emotion and yet, some are like shards of crystal. Sharp. Shattered. It all depends on the – ah – murderous intent.” He spread his arms and pointed at her. “You, however, are an enigma. An frozen lake at midnight with a thousand stars reflected into it, white frost and snowflakes glitter under moonlight, crystal spun of ice, and I can only guess at the currents which run beneath the surface. How thin is the ice?” He shook his head. “In battle you were a snowstorm ready to break out and I could not see beyond the white.”

Rha swallowed. A shiver ran down her neck. It was always terrifying when someone saw your true nature, worse, a sith. This was a dangerous line of conversation. How thin is the ice, indeed?

“Did you even enjoy it? Your craft? Does it fulfill you?”

She relaxed into her chair and took the distraction. “An complicated question. Does yours? Or rather, what is even my 'craft'? Is it the art of battle, the exhilaration I find in a good fight? Is it killing and the dark satisfaction I find in wiping certain people permanently off the galaxy? Is it defense and the gratitude of those whom I fight for? Is it teaching?

In my youth is was agriculture! Believe me, there was no ten year old more interested in soil and seeds. For a time it became fishing, then I returned to plant life and wanted to grow force-sensitive flowers. Alas! I have no connection with nature, no matter how hard I tried.”

Vowrawn chuckled. “Agriculture! You surprise me every time.”

It was getting lighter outside. “As much as I'd like to keep surprising you, I think its time for me to leave. I am sure you have much to do as well.”

“Nothing that can't wait for you.” Vowrawn was quick to offer. “You can stay, dear, if you wish to.”

“I need to get back or some concerned people might try to rescue me. And I do have to find out where your Wrath is, Vowrawn.” Rha took her gloves and put them back on. The leather had grown cold. “Return soon, my Knight.”

She bowed. “Farewell, my friend.”

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Cream Cakes (Gwendolen Targaryen)

A few days ago I did a poll on which of my AU Game of Throne's OC's I should do, Gwendolen won! So here, enjoy this little snippet into her world.

 Princess Gwendolen Targaryen is the second daughter of Queen Daenerys Targaryen of Essos and her husband, Llwellyn Lannister, her elder sister, Princess Rhaella Targaryen is her Mother’s heir, being her older twin by five minutes.

Gwendolen inherited the Targaryen traits of her mother, she had dark mauve eyes paired with her Father’s Lannister traits of golden hair, the colour of a summer's midday sun, she is tall and slender, often seen with her twin, Rhaella nearby, who she was waiting for at this moment, sitting in the window seat of their shared bed chamber.

The chamber door opened and Rhaella walked in, shoulders slumped, a bored expression on her face, the door closed behind her on its own as she flopped onto her bed, burying her face in the white linens.

“Lesson go well, Rha?”

“Do you know how boring city building laws are, Gwen?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Lucky you.”

“Not all of us are going to be queen one day.”

“Can I change my mind? Have the title passed to you instead?”

“Once crowned you can abdicate..”

Rhaella groaned “I have to wait that long?”

She rolled over on the bed and stared up at the painting ceiling, where clouds and dragons decorated the stone

“We should run away…leave Osian the throne.” 

Osian, they’re younger brother by twelve years was three years old, he was hardly old enough to protest, Gwendolen smiled at the thought.

“We could take a boat to Casterly rock…stay with Aunt Karella..” Rhaella continued

“Auntie would send us home no doubt.” Gwendolen shrugged “So you are stuck with your boring lessons.” 

“We can’t even go into town without everyone knowing that we’re princesses.”

“We can go for a ride.” Gwendolen stood up and continued “Have a picnic in the field.”

“Oh yes..” Rhaella also got to her feet “There’s fresh cream cakes in the kitchen, I could smell them cooking.” 

“We’ll change and then go pack.”

They changed into their riding gear, black leather trousers, heavy leather boots, Rhaella wore a golden tunic embroidered with a silver dragon on the breast, Gwedolen wore a simpler one of purple, with silver roses on the sleeves.

When dressed so similarly, they were hard to tell apart, their Father, a twin himself, could always do it, even when they were children but Mother got them mixed up sometimes, she would always curse herself when she did so.

They took a pack down to the kitchens, the cooks and maids filled it with cream cakes, fruit and dried beef, with bottles of watered down sweet wine, there horses were saddled, Gwendolen rode a brown mare with a black mane named Xela, while Rhaella rode the horses sister, all black, named Ebony. 

The field was a short distance away, outside of the towns walls but close enough to still be considered safe, it was full of thigh length grasses and flowers all shades of the rainbow, they went to there usual spot, beneath a sunbleached tree that provided shade, the grass was flattened from all the hours they had sat there, gossiping and laughing, sharing sweet wine.

“Tell me, with all honesty, Do you truely not wish to be queen?” Gwendolen asked as she spread out the woollen blanket for them to sit on, a dark purple lined with silver horses, a gift from their Grandmother, Hawyss.

Rhaella was tying the horses to the tree, she seemed to think on her answer for a moment.

“I am…unsure…somedays yes, others no.” 

Gwendolen was surprised with her sister's honesty, she knew that she liked to complain but still, to be the heir to their Mother was an honour.

“Mother is a big person who casts a big shadow, I fear I won’t be big enough to escape it.” Rhaella continued “And well…we are Targaryens…our history is as long as it is complicated…what if I let everyone down?”

“As long as you don’t earn the title of Rhaella the Mad I’d say you can’t do much worse than some of our ancestors.” 

Rhaella laughed “Quite right, if I don’t marry Osian I suppose I’m already a step above.”

Gwendolen joined in with a giggle, she was quite glad that sibling marriage had died out with her Great-Uncle Rhagar. 

All though incest wasn’t just tied to the Targaryen side of the family, The Lannister’s had their fair share of it too.

That wasn’t a topic brought up very often in the household.

“I shall be there with you, every step of the way, as your sister and subject.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re a sycophant here to lick my boots.”

Gwendolen didn’t realise that was how she said it

“Be my sister, Gwen, nothing less, nothing more.” 

Rhaella lifted the pack off the back of Xela and placed it on the blanket “Now enough of this talk of the future, right now in the present there are cakes.”

Gwendolen smiled and joined her sister on the blanket, Rhaella would make a good queen, eventually, she had a kind heart and warm smile, she was smart, she was graceful.

Most importantly, she was her sister, her twin, if Rhaella ever made the idea of leaving the crown behind, to have Osian inherit the throne and title, Gwendolen would go with her.

To be apart would be like missing a limb, or something deeper, something Gwendolen couldn’t find the words for, but that was the future, right now in the present were cream cakes.

[the-doll-in-red]

Hey I thought of something cool (hello I'm the one that recommended OC sprites a while back) you know how sometimes 2 characters say the same thing at the same time? Have you thought of a "duel sprite"? (It would only work for 2 characters unless you made the text box bigger) One character sprite would be in its normal spot while the other would have its sprite reversed and placed on the other end (sometimes flipping an image makes it look like shit though o_o)

Like last time this is just an idea I thought of (also epic new sprite RHA :o)

[doll-in-the-oasis]

//So uh... hypothetically, if I were to make an ask blog for a Deltarune OC, what tag would I use? Would I still use the underblog tag, or does it have its own tag??//

//Just hypothetically speaking here, I have no clue-//

-RHA

[cinnaminsvga]

Dumbo Preview | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk but it’s... not on purpose??, jungkook looks soft but he’s tattoed and pierced, accidental edging (you’ll... understand) → words: anticipated 10-15K → a/n: ...listen. i am not in the right state of mind right now. i am actually bordering on insane... but that’s not gonna stop me from being a clown so this is!! something i’ve been working on for a Year now but @jincherie​ literally commissioned me to finish writing this piece of shit so here we are... here we fucking are... idk when i’m posting this but it will be Soon and i’m not ready

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there. 

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that. 

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. He feels his eyes bugging out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you. 

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

[hunnybadgerv]

🍑 Eros - What physical aspect of another person does your character love the most? What physical aspect would innitially draw your character to a person?

From the Greek Words for Love Ask Game

Nyx Shepard At first glance, Nyx was attracted to Kaidan’s shoulders and biceps. She blames the shirt he was wearing (the one that was a size too small just for that purpose). But it’s his eyes that really drew her in, and his lips. He’s an amazing kisser and she could just kiss him for days if life allowed such indulgences. Though thinking about she still has a thing for his arms, but comes to prefer having them around her rather than just looking at them. Though she’s never above that either. Of course, she also feels the need to note that he has a great ass. 

Leah Rook John’s eyes struck her from the moment that they met; they continue to be her downfall. Another thing that attracted her attention right off was the tattoos that peeked out from under the cuffs of his suit. It gave a hint of something beneath the surface, a mystery of sorts. She continues to be fascinated with his hands, long deft fingers that move with an alluring and hypnotic grace, even in the most dangerous and bloody situations. She also can’t get over the feel and look of those hands on her skin. 

Detective Nichelle Delilah Larsen From the first time Mason sparks up a cigarette in her office, she became a tiny bit obsessed with his lips--the ways they shift and curl with his sharp smirks and dangerous grins. When paired with his hands, they are something she’s perpetually drawn to and finds herself watching, even more so when they are focused on her. 

Furia Troy’s kind eyes drew her in instantly. The gentle smile that always seemed to accompany his concern for her just intensified her reaction to him. But throughout their relationship, it’s always his eyes that draw her, remind her how and why she fell for him, and bring her a sense of comfort and peace. She always holds his gaze when they speak, when they dance, and when they sleep together. 

Amaryn Rha For the Jedi Knight, she couldn’t tell you whether there was one physical thing that drew her to Doc. For her it was more about his actions, saving soldiers trying to keep a prisoner safe from retribution, and more. Sure he’s a huge flirt, which is something she hasn’t dealt with before him. As a Sith Pureblood, most people tend to avoid her and she’d never really met someone that was as playful and flirtatious as Doc. So her initial attraction to him wasn’t physical. After they’ve been together for a while, she really ends up with a thing for his mustache, which she cannot admit without going a deeper shade of red. 

Tayen Quick Yet another character whose initial attraction was not based on the physical, but she was drawn to Sharky’s positive and humorous outlook on everything. He enjoyed life and made time for things that were about finding happiness wherever you could. What Tayen comes to love most about him is his smile and the way it crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes his eyes sparkle. That’s the sexiest thing about him for her. She would never deny his attractiveness, but it is his honest bright smile that makes her all aflutter.

[consulaaris]

73 or 75 + jorani/blaire 🥰

ty dani!!!! these two have my Heart 🥰

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73- Height Difference Kisses Where One Person Has To Bend Down And The Other Is On Their Tippy Toes

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The air on Nar Shaddaa is unusually chilly tonight, and Blaire shivers a little despite the borrowed jacket wrapped around her shoulders. Leaning into her girlfriend helps, though. At least she’s warm.

Sounds of laughter and drunken revelry break through the quiet, but here on the balcony it feels like she and Jorani are in their own little bubble- even if it is their own party, it’s not like the partygoers seem to mind their absence. Blaire looks to the side and rests her head on her hand, watching Jorani survey the bustling scenery of the planet and wishing she could take a holo of the moment to keep in her pocket forever.

Something in her chest burns like fire and maybe it’s the liquor but she can’t deny that she’s happier than she’s been in a long time. Maybe ever. She’s still not entirely sure she deserves it.

The Twi’lek seems to notice her focus and turns to face her, leaning lazily against the balcony railing as her lips curve up into a smile. “You like what you see?”

“Someone’s full of herself,” Blaire quips, scrunching up her nose. Yet she reaches up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around her lover’s neck- and Jorani just laughs and pulls her close, her hands finding their way around Blaire’s waist and leaning down so that their foreheads touch. Blaire can’t help but squeeze her eyes shut for a moment, overwhelmed by the gentleness of it all. The knowledge that she loves and is loved in return never fails to give her butterflies; she hopes it never well.

Her golden eyes flutter open again and she finds herself studying Jorani’s face- her lips, the tattoos across her cheeks, the tenderness in her normally sharp gaze. All the little details she wants to keeping learning for the rest of her life.

“Kiss me,” she whispers. It’s not really a request.

There’s an instant of breathless hesitation, but Jorani’s lips meet hers and it’s just them against the world. Blaire has never kissed anyone else and meant it. Jorani is different. Has always been different.

When they separate she can see a little bit of smeared lipstick near the edge of Jorani’s mouth- she’s not sure whose- and a fierce spark in the other woman’s eyes that makes her shiver (and not because of the cold this time). But Blaire pulls away just slightly until she’s standing flat on both feet again, although she’s still pressed close to her girlfriend’s chest.

Jorani smirks down at her. “Are you sure you don’t need a step stool?”

A scowl breaks out across Blaire’s face, but there’s no real bite to it (and she knows that the glimmer of amusement she sees in her lover’s eyes is clearly reflected in her own).

“For that,” she announces dramatically, drawing Jorani near to her once more, “I think I deserve another kiss.”

(Her demand is, of course, obliged.

The rest of the party can wait.)

[a-artist-a]

Rha collected a lot of scars over the years!