#plus it is. literally fictional

[vhstown]

the people who r like "hobie uses cockney slang wrong!" and "he's not historically accurate!" ... do u get the point of his character . at all

[thecryptidzenith]

Thinking about. Rizbert. Erizabeth. Rizwalda. Riz has to be short for something because... because why? Is he 'too good' for a short name? (a goblin name?) Isn't he surrounded by non-goblins who cannot think outside their cultural perceptions of what a name is supposed to be? Riz both as a name and as a person seems short & lesser but don't worry, he's really something greater, something larger and longer than can be expressed with his native name. As if something small cannot be powerful and important without secretly being large. As if there is only one way to be great. It's like Sklonda said, his name is Riz. Just Riz, as if there's anything 'just' about it.

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

Good morning Hawkins this is your daily reminder from a fellow plus size person that if you are plus size, Eddie Munson would still date the hell out of you and marry you. And since he’s fictional it’s 100% acceptable to write him as being able to lift you up because in my head he can do whatever the hell he wants and I’m not denying myself the pleasure of having the princess carry experience just because I am fat irl.

Self care is allowing yourself to have good experiences in fiction and not worrying about bullshit semantics.

[stygianheart]

I think one of my “favorite” things is when people misinterpret what it means to be aroace. Watching people so clearly not understand the complexity behind the spectrum of aromatic and asexuality and then proceed to say they “stand with” aroace as an ally is so hilarious to me. Especially when they use this to start bashing on a perfectly fine ship, especially because said ship gets in the way of theirs.

Aroace does not mean no attraction. The plastered poster face for it is people who don’t feel ANY types of attraction, but that does not mean everyone. Aromantic people can date and fall in love. Asexual people can fuck. Aroace people can do both.

Yes, aroace rep IS needed. But we still have it via Luffy—just because Luffy kisses someone (hypothetically) doesn’t mean we just yeeted the aroace label off of him. He is STILL aroace. You know who else is aroace? Bon Clay, for one. Zoro as well. Yet I don’t see people screaming that shipping Zoro with someone completely erases the aroace label, now do I?

Ugh, I’d totally make a whole ass essay about this, but it’s half till midnight. It’s just. Been on my mind for a few hours and I need to say a little shit

[ccherrybloom]

Ashtrays & Antihistamines Pt. 1

oc, m, hayfever, wc: 2.8k

Part 2

CW: foul language and allusions to gay sex lol

~~

a.n. + summary: i don't think i've ever posted a snzfic on this blog, but there's a first for everything, right? featuring my lovely little ocs and their stupid dumb little band. i don't normally write them in snzcerions, but...every now and again i can’t help myself and one slips through the cracks lol. This particular one centers around my absolute shithead of an Irishman, Peter, as he deals with a hayfever flare up for the first time in like…twenty years, lol. of course, ever the lucky one, this begins to happen during the band’s first mini-tour. Cue shenanigans. I hope you all enjoy!

~~

“hH’RRSHhiue!” Peter fell into himself with a harsh sneeze, the band’s rundown van jerking sporadically with its driver’s sudden movement. “Goddamnit!”

“Bless.” Geoff offered lazily from the passenger seat as he turned a page of his book, unbothered by the vehicle’s erratic veer. “That’s like the tenth one since we’ve left Dublin.” The bassist pointed out, shooting the guitarist a pointed look from the corner of his eye. “You alright?”

“Fuckin’ hayfever,” Peter answered as he scrubbed his palm aggressively against the underside of his nose, careful not to put too much pressure against his nose rings. He followed it up with a drawn-out sniffle. “I’m fine. Christ.”

“I don’t remember ya being like this before,” Maurice quipped from the back of the van, leaning forward to join in on the conversation. “I mean hell, ya lived in Dublin fer how many years…?”

“Longer than you, Frenchie.” Peter retorted as he thrust a tattooed hand backwards to try and shove the singer away. Maurice easily dodged with a laugh, swatting at Peter’s hand as Geoff instinctively reached out to steady the van as it began to swerve again. “You can piss right off.”

“Look, I’m just sayin’, yer born and bred Irish — who knew all it took was a few months in London for yer own country to turn on ya.”

“I said piss off.”

“Who gives a shit!” Chris suddenly interjected as he pulled his headphones from his ears, a curly lock of the drummer’s dark hair falling between his eyes. “Just keep your bloody eyes on the road! I dunno ‘bout you lot, but I’d like to get there in one piece.”

Maurice backed off with a snicker, hands up in surrender as Peter quickly flipped Chris off in the rear view mirror before returning his full attention to the road.

After Peter and Maurice had both left Dublin for London a few months shy of one another, the four men began to pour almost all of their free time into their passion project, The Undergrounds. Much to their genuine surprise, people seemed to really enjoy their band’s sound and performances, so much so in fact that they’d hit a point where pubs across the UK were beginning to reach out to them, asking the group to come play for their open mic nights, with some even offering payment. With the requests getting further and further away from their homebase in London, the band finally decided to bite the bullet and buy themselves some transportation, namely their shithole of a van lovingly referred to as Van Halen. Despite its old clunkiness, it really did do the trick, and allowed the men to head across the border on their first ever ‘Let’s-Not-Call-It-A-Tour’ Tour. Realistically, with two of the four members being from (or as close to ‘from’ as one could be, in Maurice’s case) Ireland, the band had picked up quite a bit of traction across the small country with the men getting many open mic night requests which they normally had to turn down, much to Peter’s dismay.

At least until now, that is.

Peter had noticed something was off after their show in Dublin the night prior. At first he just assumed he strained his voice singing backup vocals — a product of over-excitement from getting to play in his old stomping grounds. But by morning the scratchiness in his throat lingered and was now accompanied by faint itchiness in his nose that forewarned him of worse yet to come. 

By the time the men packed up their gear and filed into the van late that afternoon, the unwelcoming prickle that had been festering in his nose demanded more attention, and his eyes began to itch in a maddening way that he hadn’t experienced since he was a kid back in Belfast. Initially he tried to ignore it, chalking it up as a residual reaction to dust from the old pub, or that it had been awhile since Van Halen had gotten a good clean. But as time slowly passed on their nearly three hour drive to Cork, and the itchiness in his sinuses progressed into full-blown sneezing, the reality of the situation began to dawn on him. He was immediately thrust back to Belfast, memories of summers spent constantly sneezing thanks to the fields near his old home, his eyes watering, his nose running, each summer spent absolutely miserable. He hadn’t had a hayfever flare-up in years, thinking it was something he had thankfully outgrown once his mum had moved them to Dublin, but yet here it was, back to rear its ugly head once more all these years later. The familiar lush scents of the countryside that used to conjure such vivid memories of home were now turning every intake of breath the guitarist took into a gamble. 

The itchiness in Peter’s nose only seemed to increase in urgency as Van Halen bumped its way through the Irish countryside. The landscape blurred past the windows, a mix of greens and greys under a sky that threatened rain.

“Nearly there.” Geoff hummed, taking a peek at the map app on his phone. “About another twenty or so.”

“Thank fuck.” Peter grumbled with a sniffle, his eyes squinting past the relentless itchiness. He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and pulled his glasses up slightly before slamming his wrist into one eye and scrubbing hard.

“I think we could all do with a pint,” Maurice chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. “Especially you, Peter.” He added, gently poking the man’s shoulder.

Peter managed a weak chuckle in response, his wrist still pressed hard into the corner of his eye. 

“Just keep it steady Pete, yeah?” Chris leaned himself forward and rested his elbows onto his knees, eyes scanning the road ahead. “Not much longer and you can go ahead and drown yourself in whatever local brew you fancy.”

Peter opened his mouth to reply, but the van hit a particularly bumpy patch of road, jolting everyone inside. Instead he just swore under his breath, turning his full focus back towards the road as Cork began to appear on the horizon.

“There she is.” Geoff whistled, pointing ahead. “Welcome to Cork, lads.”

Peter managed to manoeuvre Van Halen expertly through the narrow streets of Cork despite battling his allergic reaction, the van’s tires crunching over cobblestone as he pulled them into the parking lot of their dingy motel.

“Home sweet home.” Maurice hummed as he clapped a hand onto Peter’s shoulder, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as the other two members filed out. “At least fer the next few days.”

Peter leaned back into the driver’s seat and let his eyes drift closed as he exhaled deeply, shutting off the engine. He only cracked an eye back open when he felt Maurice give his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You alright?” The singer asked, his voice low and expression soft.

“I’m grand, Mur.” Peter grumbled, his voice heavy with sarcasm. The real truth of the matter was that he was miserable, itchy, and absolutely dying for a cigarette — not that he cared to say any of that out loud. 

The guitarist pulled off his glasses to give his watery eyes another scrub before continuing. “Just got a fierce bad dose of this nonsense…This shite best be all said and done before our show or I’ll–hh! hH’ITSHHhiue!”

“See, but that’s what we don’t wantcha doin’, actually.” The blonde teased as he patted the guitarist’s shoulder before the other quickly slapped it away as if he were swatting a mosquito.

“You fuck right off, Murry.” Peter sniffled hard, dragging the backside of his hand beneath his nose. “Just get yer shit and get goin’.”

Maurice did as he was told and hopped out of the van with Peter not far behind as the pair hurriedly began to help the others unload. With the sky steadily darkening the four moved quickly, eager to avoid the potential rain. Luckily the unloading and reloading of Van Halen had become more and more familiar with each passing gig, and it didn’t take them long to have all the necessities laid out beside the van, ready to go.

The motel itself was a shabby vintage looking two-story building, its neon sign flickering with an almost uncertain intermittence as if it were clinging onto its last shred of life.

Maurice and Geoff took the lead, carrying the group’s heavier equipment while Chris and Peter followed suit with their four bags. They bustled their way to the reception desk where they were met with a disinterested looking clerk who simply handed them a single worn key with a faded plastic tag attached.

“Yer in room 107.” He mumbled, barely looking up from his magazine.

“Cheers, mate.” Geoff scoffed as he shot the others an exasperated look and snatched the key. He led the group down the dimly lit hallway, their feet dragging against a carpet that had clearly seen better days. When they reached their room Geoff wasted no time unlocking the door and shoving it open, revealing a tightly packed space with two queen beds, a small television, and a bathroom that looked like it hadn’t been updated in at least two decades.

“Alright, how we doin’ this?” Chris asked as he tossed the bags he had onto the closest bed.

“By drawing straws, of course.” Geoff instructed as he pulled a set of straws he had prepared earlier out of his pocket. “Shortest straw shares with the other shortest straw.”

The others agreed on this being fair enough and drew their straws, quickly comparing them.

“Well, it’s you and me, innit?” Chris said as he held up his short straw next to Peter’s. He gave the other a playful nudge and smirked. “Just don’t go tryin’ nuffin, yeah?”

Peter sniffled thickly and shoved Chris away before pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, careful to avoid the rings, and itched it aggressively. “I got enough of ya the first time.” He moved from rubbing his nose to scrubbing his eyes, trying to ignore the way Maurice bristled at the mention of their one-off fling. “Won’t be doin’ that again.” Chris flipped him off and called him a wanker, but he went ahead and ignored that too.

“Hey, Pete,” Geoff called out as he tossed his bag onto the other bed. “Why don’t you take a shower? Might help clear up a bit of that hayfever.”

Peter, who’s eyes had started to glaze over, did his best to nod in the ginger’s general direction. “That’s the best ideee-hha I’ve heard all d—hh! hhUH’DITSHhhiuew! ‘IGKSHhhiueww!” He doubled over hard into cupped hands, his entire body tensing violently with each sneeze before he groaned thickly against his palms. “—all damn day.” He finished on an exhale, voice cracking. “-snf- Jaysus…”

“Bless you.” Geoff offered, a twinge of sympathy in his voice. “You know you really ought to—”

“G’way outta that.” Peter interjected with a dismissive wave of his hand as he trudged his way to the bathroom, eyes half-lidded. “Last thing I need is yer bloody mother hennin’, Geoffrey.” He added before pulling the door closed behind him. 

Flicking the light switch, Peter had to wait a full second before the dull fluorescents sputtered to life, illuminating the unsightly bathroom as he dragged his feet towards the shower. The tiles were cracked and the floor was splotchy, but he didn’t care, he just wanted some relief. 

The pipes whined in protest as he turned on the taps before water began to sputter out from the shower head. The water pressure seemed abysmal at best, and Peter cursed to himself as he leaned his weight against the sink, waiting for the water to warm. As steam steadily started filling the small space, he could feel the tightness in his sinuses ease up slightly, making his nose run. The liquid caught on his septum ring and trailed rapidly down towards his upper lip. Blowing out an annoyed breath, the guitarist took a second to wipe his nose haphazardly against his sleeve before stripping and stepping into the tub, letting the warm water cascade over him with an appreciative sigh.

Outside of the bathroom Geoff and Maurice were seated on each side of their shared bed as they sorted through their bags.

“Think he’ll live?” Maurice asked as he pulled out his plastic toiletry bag, setting it to the side.

Geoff gave a small shrug in return, glancing towards the bathroom door. “I reckon it could go either way with that dumb git.”

Maurice snorted at this, but his knit brow betrayed his feigned air of nonchalance. “Just hope the shower helps, I s’ppose. Don’t think we can really afford to have him down fer the count.”

Chris, already sprawled out on the other bed, headphones back on, piped up. “Eh, he’ll be alright. Just needs to wash off whatever’s settin’ ‘im off. It’s no big, yeah? You French people are wound too tight.”

Maurice rolled his eyes at this but chose to ignore the drummer’s comment. “I just don’t want anythin’ to screw this up for us.” He murmured as his eyes fell onto the bathroom door. “That’s all.”

“hh-Hh! hH’dDZTShiueww!” Peter sneezed loudly and openly, his head snapping downwards as the shower’s stream continued to steadily pelt against his tattooed back. He blinked hard, eyes bleary as the need to sneeze lingered in his nose like an unwelcome houseguest. Instinctively he brought up a hand to hover over the lower half of his face as his breathing began to come out in shuddering, shallow gasps. “hah…Ha’TdSHhhiuew!” This one bent him double and he swore immediately afterwards, more than a little frustrated as he blew his nose harshly into his hand. Had his hayfever always been this maddening? He couldn’t remember. It had been a long time since he’d had a flare-up, probably pushing two decades at least. The thought that it had come back now during the band’s first tour just pissed him off further.

Sighing, Peter turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, reaching out for one of the worn threadbare towels from the hotel rack. He dried himself off quickly before wrapping the towel dangerously loose around his waist – the only member who had yet to see his dick was Geoffrey, and the guitarist couldn’t give less of a shit if today was the day that changed.

Wiping a hand across the fogged bathroom mirror, Peter allowed himself a moment to peer at his reflection as he dragged a hand through his damp, dark hair and threw on his glasses. His green eyes were still red-rimmed and watery, his nose and cheeks were decorated with a soft dusting of pink…he looked pathetic, but at least the shower was helping him breathe a little easier.

Residual steam billowed out into the cooler room as Peter made his way out of the bathroom, catching the eye of Maurice.

“Peter,” The singer looked up from his bag and offered the dark-haired man a small smile, taking in the other’s lean frame. “How ye fairin’?” 

“Bit better, I’d say.” Peter hummed, though a small sniffle still escaped him as he wandered over to his bag, making Maurice frown.

“Reckon you’re up for a drink?” Geoff asked, not looking up from his phone. “We were thinking of checking out this pub nearby. Interested?”

Peter mulled it over for a moment, turning his back on the others before dropping his towel and pulling on a pair of boxer-briefs. “Yeah, g’wan then.” He finally affirmed, clearing his throat against a fist as he fished an old t-shirt from his bag. “Pint’ll do me some good.”

“Are ya sure?” The singer asked, chewing on his lip nervously as Peter wiggled into a pair of jeans. “If yer not feelin’ up for it–”

“Sod off, Maurice, will you?” Chris suddenly retaliated as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Actin’ like you’re his bloody mum or somefin’ just cos you’re shaggin’. Prat.”

Peter couldn’t help but snort as Maurice glared daggers at Chris, his face turning a delightful shade of crimson. The fact that he and Maurice slept together on occasion wasn’t exactly a secret – their initial one-night stand was how the two had met in the first place, after all – but it wasn’t something that was often discussed amongst the group. Peter personally didn’t care, but Maurice clearly did.

“You don’t see me actin’ like a bloody bellend even though I’ve also sucked his–”

“Ça commence à bien faire!” Maurice shot up suddenly from the bed, cutting Chris off as his native tongue spilled rapidly from his mouth. “Fer the love of God, no more, thank you!” 

The singer hurriedly made a beeline for the hotel room door, grabbing his coat as he rushed past the others, his face absolutely aghast as the others snickered. “Just…hurry up, then! Christ, I need a feckin’ drink…”

“I think we all do.” Geoff huffed as Maurice stepped into the hall. “C’mon, lads. Let’s go.”

[batfamfucker]

There are four main types of Batfam fans in regard to how people interpret Bruce Wayne as a dad (/Joking. This is mostly satire and should not be taken seriously):

Fans that think Bruce is emotionally constipated and isn't the best at being a parent but still tries (Differs per person). Don't necessarily think he's absuive but thinks he can be toxic or have unhealthy expectations for the Robins. Can smell the Oldest Daughter Syndrome coming from Dick and have Family Line (By Conan Gray) as their top song on their Dick inspired playlist and Daddy Issues (By The Neighbourhood) for Jason.

Fans that choose to believe Bruce goes to therapy in their own canon. Love B:WFA. Thinks the comic can be cheesy at times and so find a balance between B:WFA Bruce and Please Go To Therapy BruceTM as their middle ground. He struggles. They advocate that Bruce is not a bad parent, he just has bad writers that seem to forget Bruce wouldn't hurt kids, especially not his own. Love the humane moments and scenes he has in BTAS and the early JL cartoons. He may not be perfect but he's not literally abusive. Whores for Bruce being able to admit when he is wrong and for Jason and Bruce reconciling. I recommend Grow As We Go by Ben Platt for this one.

A mix between the first two. Was fine-ish when Dick was younger. Didn't help him in the healthiest way but eh. Still emotionally constipated but that happened more so after Dick left and Jason died. Started getting better when Tim came back but was still closed off. Should probably go to therapy with the kids so they can drag his ass about all the things he's done that have actually affected them negatively. Understands his mistakes and is also able to admit when he's wrong, eventually. It's not easy but he starts to do better and learns to be more emotionally available. Still has to get chewed out by Alfred sometimes but definitely better than he used to be and it shows. Reconciliation is slow and gradual but progress is made for everyone involved.

The one's I personally avoid for my own sanity and wellbeing:

Think Bruce is a complete bastard and abuser. Want him to choke. Hate any and all interpretations of him. Some of which will refuse to understand how anyone could have a different interpretation. Will point out comics where, in all fairness, he is a dick but forget that characterisation can significantly differ from one series to the next, as comic characters are constantly passed around to different writers and have been for decades. Not to mention movies, shows, etc.

[waterlogged-detective]

8, 21, 23?

Ask me about the Does

8: How do they communicate with each other? Are there any recurring phrases or gestures unique to their relationship?

The ways they communicate when they're alone/home are mostly silent tbh, helping each other with work, making coffee, reading books together. Things don't always have to be said, and they both treasure the silence. This isn't to say they don't talk at all, they often do, mundane and serious topics pinballing around while they share breakfast, Jon putting spoonfulls of sugar into Darcy's coffee while Darcy makes sure that Jon has enough food on his plate and remembers to eat all of it. That's another thing, doing things for one another just happens. Small things adding up and up and up. Never mentioned, but always appreciated. I don't think these are unique in any way, but instead mundane and exactly what they

21: What is their worst memory together?

I'm not sure if it counts as a memory as its an argument that comes up a lot but Jon really doesn't like Darcy's job...or rather a specific part of his job that's become a bit of a hobby. Darcy likes to take people apart to see how they work, which would be fine if you know, people actually stayed dead in the neath, but unfortunately they often don't and Darcy doesn't have any qualms about killing someone over and over and over again until he's done looking at them, which Jon rightfully sees as a kind of torture (Darcy isn't exactly morally grey...like at all, he's awful and deserves every bad thing that happens to him tbh). So they've had....several several several arguments and straight up have almost broken up for it in the past. Darcy doesn't actually have an argument against Jon's beyond that he doesn't actually care about people, which only upsets Jon more.

23: Do they have any mutual friends? Mutual enemies?

Answered this one here!

[dayurno]

first of yeah i hate when people try to use any sort of disability as punishment for characters in stories as for most attractive ppl 1. Jean Moreau sad boy tall sad and French he would match my crazy and my mental state and i mean this in the unhinged tumblr way 2. literary any character that is strong and beffy as fuck so might as well just put riko here i am very attracted to strong and athletic individuals so really anyone woudl fit here but this is kings spot now 3. Jeremy Knox fake blondes with tan, it's very unusual look at least in my city/environment and tbh considered bit "trashy" but i personally love people who don't match 100% to fashion/beauty standards 4. Renee i don;t need to explain just Renee 5. Probably some raven I am really NOT PICKY tbh like appearance is such miniscule thing? I more care about someone's choices of fashion and how they carry themselves .... no kevin on this list because he is such basic ass white boy even with all the queer diva aesthetic this fandom puts on him sorry he is way too normie

BAHAHA kevin is a glossy two page magazine spread he cannot run from this hes very conventional and classic….. but i do love that about him 🫡 between him and jeremy we can make a fashion magazine for aspiring boys next door

ALSO CRAZY THAT YOUD WANT JEAN i am genuinely like. after having read into jeans mind i can understand the deliciousness of him as a concept but we could not coexist i do not think he is just too pathetic i cant do it… famously the only man ive ever considered being with was meek and submissive which i guess is a point on jeans part but i dont know. hes really crazy. i wouldnt get on this ride at all knowing how loose the screws are

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[lord-squiggletits]

Between TF and my other fandoms like BG3 and TES, I keep finding myself making OCs that have some element of "battle hardened hero who is actually good and righteous, but so traumatized by the toll of war that even after the war ends they feel empty/wrecked and can't enjoy the fruits of victory" and I'm not sure if it's bc I gravitate to a certain type of media where such OCs fit in best, or bc I have a specific character archetype I like and gravitate towards media that contains those things.

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

“Omg Edward and Bella are so Odysseus and Penelope coded” that’s how it sounds to me each time anyone compares a mlm ship to achilles and patroklos

[super-powerful-queen-reyna]

En fait y a pas de meilleure couverture que ça !

Really, it's the best comic covers I've ever seen!

[acourtofquestions]

Tower of Dawn

Chapter 1

… This is peaceful after EoS, I missed Chaol, I also enjoyed liked the little bonus lead in via EoS… but also it’s killing me not knowing if any of my bb’s r ok (every Aelin mention cannot be handled UGH SARAH YOU MIGHT AS WELL BE STABBING MY SOUL), alas I shall enjoy every page! So, I FINALLY started it (ugh… life does not leave enough reading time😭 and binge reads for cliffhangers)

… per usual watch for spoilers per chapter… & here we are…

[radioisntdead]

Accidentally stumbled onto the dark side of Tumblr again, DEAR GRACE SOME FOLKS NEED INTENSE THERAPY, or need to stop doing drugs, maybe both, my eyes, my poor, poor eyes, I need a holy water and bleach combo

Also I should watch gravity falls again

[szczekaczz]

graduating really didn't make me feel anything huh

[krys-loves-otome]

OC Brain Rot Introductions

After making the first post with Thea and Abby, I realized that I didn't have an intro post introducing the character or to formally address what these kind of posts are going to be about (aside what I put in Thea and Abby's first post)

OC Brain Rot (based on this post here originally) are posts where I ramble off about my OCs and what they're up to currently outside of my writings and arts. In essence, these are brain dump posts. Sometimes they might be a couple of sentences and half-formed ideas, others might go into meta involving my ocs and whichever game they are a part of. Sometimes it might also include simple screaming, you just never know.

Brain rots will also NOT be spoiler-free! I'll usually note at the top of each post if there are going to be spoilers. Content and trigger warnings will also be noted in the beginning and in the tags where applicable.

OC Brain Rot is also open to questions towards and about the OCs themselves. They might even answer your questions themselves!

I've decided that, instead of having a separate tumblr blog (since I have like four of them at this current moment in time), I'll just make little posts about the ocs on main since I'm not especially active here as I'd like to be outside of queued posts and I have answered some questions in my OC's voices on this blog before (like this one from Houki giving her opinion on IkeSen's Masamune) and would like to get back into doing something like that.

Brain rots are also mostly going to involve my otome/dating sim OCs, but everyone is also welcome to ask about my original ocs and, if you're really curious, about older ocs that I've made for other fandoms outside of the otome/dating sim ones.

Below the cut, I've also put short intros for each of my ocs as quick reference for future brain rot posts. Longer, more detailed profiles will be made at a later date, but these will serve as little reminders for where this oc is coming from when I make future oc brain rot posts.

For other posts involving my OCs, here's my writing masterlist for them

Thanks for stopping by lovelies and hope to hear from you again soon!

--------

Houki of Jiyel, "Houki"

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Game: Ikemen Sengoku

Suitor: Mitsunari Ishida

Age: Early 20s

Physical Description: Short stature and chubby, large, bright green eyes, long straight black hair (that looks blue in certain lights), light to medium skin, wears round glasses

Personality: Quiet, Introverted, Observant

Brief History: A transplant MC from a different game, Houki was a noble lady sent on a diplomatic mission to strengthen ties between her home nation and six other kingdoms, mainly through the means of political marriage and alliances. Her plans were interrupted when she arrived in Sengoku era Japan and is now trying to find a way back to her home world to complete her original goal.

Misc. Fact: She loves reading more than anything in the world. It is her favorite pastime and is more often than not found reading some tome at almost any point in the day.

------

Ophelia of Revaire, "Ophelia"

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Game: Ikemen Sengoku

Suitor: Kennyo

Age: Late 20s

Physical Description: Pale skin and hair (chin length and straight, parted to her right, our left), medium height, thin and willowy, dark red eyes, chin mole towards the right side (our left) of her face

Personality: Calculating, calm, refined

Brief History: Another transplant MC from a different game (same game as Houki), she was on the same diplomatic mission as Houki, but for different reasons. Born into a poor noble family, Ophelia has spent most of her life trying to bring up her family's position, was even briefly married for the cause, but thanks to her previous husband's passing, she's needing to social climb again to keep her family afloat, thus joining in her country's call for this diplomatic mission, hoping to marry rich. Being transported to Sengoku era Japan was not on her agenda and she's definitely not happy about this new life turn.

Misc. Fact: She has eight younger siblings, six sisters and two brothers.

-----

Dorothea "Thea" Reid

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Game: Ikemen Vampire

Suitor: Theodorus van Gogh, Arthur Conan Doyle

Age: Early 20s

Physical Description: Fair skin with lots of freckles, esp on her face and shoulders, long reddish-brown hair that she keeps in a braid most of the time, large blue eyes, medium-tall-ish height (just shy of Theo's eye level)

Personality: Friendly, outgoing, stubborn

Brief History: A lover of history and fashion, Thea had combined her love of both and had just finished her degree to be a fashion historian, and thought to reward herself after finishing college by taking a trip to Paris! Who knew a trip to the Louvre would start her biggest adventure yet?

Misc. Fact: Always wearing something either historical or historically inspired, like long skirts and embroidered blouses.

------

Abigail "Abby" Clarke

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Game: Ikemen Vampire

Suitor: Vincent van Gogh

Age: Early 20s

Physical Description: Short-medium height, blonde bob/short hair that she grows longer to shoulder length as she ages, warm brown eyes, fair skin

Personality: Quiet, meek, curious

Brief History: Escaping from a bad situation, Abby finds herself in Paris, admiring the art and history that the city has to offer. Running into a mysterious gentleman that helps her escape some hooligans, she accidentally follows him through his magical time door and ends up in the 19th century! What's a girl to do now?

Misc. Fact: Her favorite hobbies are drawing and photography, though she wasn't really able to explore them as she liked in her previous life. She thrives under the tutelage of history's greats in Comte's mansion.

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Madeline "Maddie" Fleming

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Game: Ikemen Revolution

Suitor: Harr Silver

Age: 30

Physical Description: Short and curvy, greenish grey short hair that's wavy, wine red eyes, light medium skin, ears pierced (once in each lobe, and two at the top of each ear, making a total of six piercings)

Personality: Outgoing, caring, fun

Brief History: Visiting her grandparents in London, Maddie had found herself in James Park, meeting with a nice, if absent-minded gentleman. She had tried to return his lost pocket watch to him, but she accidentally follows him back to Cradle, starting her journey to unlocking powers she previously didn't know she had and to bringing peace between the two warring armies fighting over the magical wonderland she had found herself in.

Misc. Fact: Her power manifests itself mostly in non-living items. When she was younger, she made fake flowers to give to people she knew, singing to them as she worked. Her flowers would then take on characteristics she was singing about (a la Sophie from Howl's Moving Castle book version). Her flowers could make you have more luck on a test or even give you the confidence to confess to your crush! But be careful if you piss her off as her negative vibes can transfer to her targeted item and turn it cursed!

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Clara Laurent

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Game: Ikemen Prince

Suitor: Nokto Klein

Age: 27

Physical Description: Medium skin tone, wavy dark brown hair usually kept in a low bun, short to medium height, pink eyes

Personality: Serious, stubborn, kind

Brief History: A ward of Mr. Akatsuki, she was taken in by bookstore owner at a young age, growing up around books and a love of learning. During a festival, she met with a few of Rhodolite's princes, their interactions watched by Sariel, the prime minister, looking for candidates to be the next Belle, a person with a pure heart that chooses the next king of their country. She is chosen for this role, using her best judgement to make the right choice for her tiny kingdom, especially with the loom threat of war on their heels.

Misc. Fact: Her favorite book series is the Midnight Cinderella saga, telling the varying adventures of a commoner chosen to rule over the fictious kingdom of Wysteria. Her favorite in the series is Byron.

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Miriam "Miri"

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them

Game: Obey Me!

Suitor: Lucifer

Age: Early 20s in season 1, close to late-20s by season 4/nightbringer's timeline

Physical Description: Medium-dark skin tone, pink curly hair that gets to its longest by season 4 (which is mid back), purple to pink gradient eyes, short stature, her pact marks glow when she's actively using her pact bonds. Pact mark locations include: Chest over her heart (Lucifer), behind her right ear (Mammon), Left knee (Leviathan), Right forearm (Satan), Lower back (Asmo), Stomach above the navel (Beel), Neck right on her windpipe (Belphie). Post Season 2, she has Lucifer's Ring of Light on her left hand ring finger. Season 3 and beyond, she has her Sorcerer's Society Tattoo on the back of her right hand, along with a ring on her middle finger that signifies she's a sorcerer and a member of the Sorcerer's Society, given to her by Solomon.

Personality: Curious, kind, stubborn

Brief History: Arriving in Devildom as a little pink sheep, Miri works to find a way to turn herself back into a human, which leads her to being made an exchange student at RAD, a school-like organization run by the devildom prince Diavolo, who hopes to bring the three realms together into peaceful relations. While staying in devildom, she is taken in by a group of powerful demon brothers, former angels from the Celestial Realm fallen from grace. In order to turn herself back into a human, she needs their power and she makes pacts with each to gain their help and support. As her bonds grow stronger with the brothers, so too does her own power, coming to a realization that she is a sorcerer in later seasons, learning to control her powers and to use her powers for good and to help Diavolo's cause to bring the three realms to peace.

Misc. Fact: She loves sweets and hates spicy things. She has a healthy fear of Mammon's extra spicy ramen and refuses it every time it's offered to her. Even regular ramen makes her suspicious after having sampled Mammon's favorite once.