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lampyart · 3 years ago

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Little Feitan Adventure (ENG)

มีเวอร์ชั่นไทยด้วยน้าาา อยากอ่านคลิ๊กตรงนี้เบยยยย

I have no idea why I dreamt like this. It's so funny and super embarrassing for me. Anyways, if you're ok to read, I would love to share (lol).

Note: It's kind of fantasy story, and I'm not used to these vocab fields + English is not my first language, but let's tryTTwTTb!!

**Copy and Repost are not allowed**

...

Content/ Trigger warning

> BL/ Yaoi (boy love?)

> kidnapping & imprisonment (ลักพาตัว + กักขังหน่วงเหนี่ยว)

> a bit sad for an extra part (ช่วงตอนเสริมมีฉากเศร้าหน่อยๆ)

...

[My own reminder]

It's not like I don't want to draw beautiful arts. I'm just lazy (and it takes hours for one art =_=). Now, I just want to enjoy drawing. That's all. (Well, whatever you call? Happy drawing time...or something like that) (Happiness first >w<b). Believe me I'm sick of putting watermark too, but I hate when my arts are stolen more.

[Background of Little Feitan Series]

The story and the characteristic are not fixed at first, but this is what I found about tiny Feitan based on my drawing.

As you can see, tiny Fei has a calm and peaceful life somewhere in the nature. He lives alone that’s why he is vigilant. There’s also a situation that he sneak in the huge human’s house (Hisoka’s house XD) to steal a food. In this AU, tiny Feitan enjoys eating sweets.

Briefly, tiny Fei is kind of peaceful but vigilant person. Despite his fluffy appearance, he has his naughty side too.

[My dream]

**Note: It’s a dream, so there's something not make sense ok?

The story began when the tiny Fei was dropped to the unfamiliar place. (It’s the parallel world actually, but Feitan isn’t aware about that). He found himself at the huge human’s house, the Ortho siblings’ house. Outside of the place there were people fighting. Tiny Fei was so scared to death not only because of the wired appearances of those people, but also the strange power (nen ability) which he never saw before. (In his world, there is no nen power/ ability)

After being shocked, he tried to escape from this crazy place, determining to find the way back home. Unfortunately, he was found and chased by huge people many times due to some unknown reasons. Although tiny Fei got caught, he managed himself to escape from them finally. Now tiny Fei was at the Meteor City, the land of garbage, he was informed by someone that the way back home was in the tent nearby. Thus, he used his tiny body to pass through the tent. Luckily that there was nobody….

No, there’s someone in the tent!!

*Fei for tiny Feitan

*Feitan for his huge version

Tiny Fei was so shocked to find the huge version of himself so was that Feitan. As soon as he realized the situation, tiny Fei ran and hid himself behind things on the table, thinking that this world is CRAZY!

For Feitan, his role and personality in this world is totally different from the anime. He is not a member of the Phantom troupe or a sadistic guy. He is just a normal person….or may be worse. He is a prisoner captured by the troupe.

Feitan tried to convince tiny Fei for long, showing that he was not a bad guy. Finally, tiny Fei came out. Both of them talked and shared a brief story of why they were here. Somehow they became to trust each other, feeling like an old friend. In the tent, Feitan helped tiny Fei find a gateway (wormhole??) back to his own world. It was small and hid in an unnoticed place; that’s why Feitan was never aware of it before.

Suddenly, Phinks came to the tent with a bad timing. Both Feitans were startled. Tiny Fei hid himself quickly, missing a chance to jump into the hole, while Feitan became awkward to Phinks’s existence. (Their position here is a warder and prisoner). The conversation was a bit tense. Despite Phinks's position and fierce appearance, he seemed to be kind and nice to his prisoner…maybe too nice. Feitan wanted Phinks to leave, but he refused.

Behind a pile of books, tiny Fei sneakily observed the huge Phinks. At first, he thought it would be fine if that was the other version of his best friend, but Feitan sent a signal not to appear in front of the blonde hair guy. Tiny Fei was confused why the other version of him looked so uncomfortable around Phinks. Wasn’t he supposed to be this Feitan’s best friend too?

However, there seemed to have no chance that Phinks would leave the tent. Actually, he came here to flirt with Feitan. The small guy knew about that, but he did not like him. Anyways, that caused problem because tiny Fei could not get close to the hole without being seen from this position. Feitan was also aware of that. There were only two choices which Feitan could do now: convincing Phinks to leave or getting his attention for a while.

The conversation of the guys got worse since Feitan could not convince Phinks to leave and the warder was too stubborn. (and Feitan hated that). With anger or something, Feitan pulled the tall and kissed him! That shocked everyone in the tent (including me as a dream owner lol). Anyways, that created a chance for tiny Fei to jump into the hole and went back to his own world.

However, the fact that the other version of him kissed Phinks scared tiny Fei a lot. He was almost shocked to death again, not even realizing that he was back to his world. His thought was so confused. There was no way he would kiss Phinks! NO WAY!! (but it happened tiny boy, for the other of you XD) (*In the tiny world, they are just friend and have no any special feeling for each other.)

Among those feelings, Feitan heard the voice calling him. It was (tiny) Phinks who looked for him since the morning. Instead of being happy, Feitan vomited somewhere nearby. (maybe due to the gateway crossing too haha). He looked not good after facing many things in the parallel world travelling. Phinks just sat beside, patting his back, and complained Feitan for not coming on the date.

Feitan, somehow, got mad to the other Phinks. Right! Because that guy was so stubborn. If he just left the tent like anybody else in the world, (the other) he didn’t need to kiss! However, Feitan could not do anything to that huge blonde hair guy, so he put his anger on the tiny Phinks instead. (The sweet, calm, & peaceful boy is gone lol)

[Extra] (a bit sad;;-;;)

There is little scene of Phinks and Feitan after the tiny Fei is back. After the kiss, Phinks’s face turned into red. He could not believe of what just happened. However, Feitan didn’t feel that way. He looked kind of sad. “Are you satisfied? Can you leave now?” was what he said before stepping back to keep a distance from Phinks. The fluttering feeling was gone. Phinks realized that Feitan didn’t think the same way as him. With guilt, he left the tent, saying that he would be back to check on Feitan again in a next hour.

...

That's all of my 4 hours dream!

OMG why I feel like use lots of energy as if writing a fiction. *tired* Hope you enjoy it('w')b. If you like it please drop the comment below, let me know what do you think about the story!

#LittleFeitanSeries #LampyPlot #phinfei #Phinks #Feitan

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herstarburststories · 5 years ago

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Brutal (Dean Winchester x Reader)

✾ A/N: More Dean x reader content, but angst this time! Reposting because I had to edit a few things. Gif's credits on it. Based on the song ‘from the dining table’.

✾ Summary: Unlike her boyfriend, Dean Winchester, the reader wasn’t raised as a hunter. At first, it seems like a hard but worth it job. Unfortunately, you didn't have in mind how brutal all of it could get.

✾ Words: 3k.

"YOU ARE NOT YOURSELF ANYMORE, DEAN!"

The discussion over a delicate subject at the dining table was blossoming into something bigger. (Y/N) was on her feet, shouting at her boyfriend with a shaking voice; a manner that was very uncommon. You were used to Dean being stubborn, and you were not behind him in this aspect which caused a few disagreements here and there. That certain argument, though, was definitive in every meaning of the word.

"I HAVE ALWAYS MADE IT FUCKING CLEAR WHAT THIS LIFE WAS, (Y/N)!" Dean snapped back, anger dripping from his words like venom. He was hurt. How could you say that he was becoming a cold-hearted person? You, of all people. "IF I DON'T KILL IT, IT KILLS ME! THIS ISN'T AN APPLE PIE LIFE, AND YOU KNEW IT WHEN YOU DECIDED TO STAY HERE!"

"I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT VAMPIRES OR POLTERGEISTS OR WENDIGOS, DEAN! FUCK!" Your usual efficiency with words was starting to tangle with desperation. Dean didn't even see the problem, for God's shake. How could you keep this up? "I'M TALKING ABOUT THE PEOPLE! I SAW YOU KILL FIVE POSSESSED PEOPLE TODAY!"

"DEMONS!" He groaned and slapped the table. You jumped in surprise, making him regret getting out of control and coaxing a softer, calmer tone from his mouth. "I killed demons, not people."

"The demons were possessing them, and you killed them off without any regret. You didn't even take a minute to consider other options."

"What other options?" he questioned, obviously upset. What the hell were you doing? Becoming the devil's advocate all of sudden?

"Using the demon-killing knife to stab a non-vital part of their bodies? Maybe an exorcism?"

"None of those options would end the problem permanently. Do you have any idea how many sons of a bitch came back from hell to get Sam and me? It's them or us, (Y/N). And I will always choose us." Dean was aware that you weren't raised in this life like him and Sam, but this conversation was becoming frustrating and confusing. You were training to be like them. You went to hunts with them. You... You supported him. At least, you did last time he checked. "The human is long gone when they get possessed. Dying is the best thing that could happen to them after that."

You were supposed to be an easy case that turned out to be more complicated than previously expected, what meant both of them staying a little longer in the city, you catching feelings for Dean and vice-versa. After all you had seen, you knew that normal life was a long lost memory that you didn't wish to visit, leave alone live in. Hauntings, traveling across the country, having no banal responsibilities-- that seemed like the kind of dangerous fun you had been looking for your whole life. Then, you came with them. Killing things had never bothered you-- they weren't actually alive, for starts. Until you saw how cold Dean looked when he killed off possessed people-- the humans that were still in there somehow. And he kept doing it as if it were the only option. Of course, this job and violence walked side by side, but not unnecessary lethal choices. Dean certainly shared his portion of brutality, which wasn't tiny, but you would never picture your boyfriend as uncaring. Not until you watched five bodies piled up together, burning. What about the chance that those people should have gotten?

"Are you even listening to yourself, Dean? What if Sam had thought like that when you became a demon!?" Apprehensive, you tried to make him understand what was wrong.

Dean clenched his jaw before his answer came out, "Those are two different things, (Y/N). You know that."

"I..." You flinched, taking a deep breath and letting it out. You shut your eyes before opening them with a determinate glare, locking your gaze with his green one. "I can't. I said I would stand by you through anything, but I can't let this slide. Not like this."

"Because I killed a few demons?" The older Winchester grinned wryly. He was furious, scared by the possibility of you leaving him, and injured by your words. What else could a wounded animal do besides attacking? "I survived, (Y/N). I've killed many others, and I'm not fucking sorry for it. They had it coming. You knew that was my life, and you chose it. What are you going to do now? Play the coward? It's a dirty, fucked up job, but someone has to do it, and you knew that."

Offering a sad smile, you walked towards him and lifted your hand to claim his cheek only for him to pull away from you. Your heart ached, but you needed to do that. Stick to your morals and beliefs.

"I love you." And you did, you truly did. Unfortunately, blood was as normal as water in his mouth, and you couldn't help but remain nauseous after what you tasted. "But there is a better way. Maybe not perfect, but another decision. And if you can't see that, if you can't see why I find it wrong to just rush around with the knife in every situation--" Your voice almost broke. "Goodbye, Dean."

You turned around, passing away from the man you loved before another speech stopped you.

"I bet you regret leaving your home to run away with me now."

You didn't take two seconds to reply, and you desired that he could understand how hard it was for you too. "I would never regret you."

No ray of sunshine licked Dean's face to wake him up. Fortunately for the Winchesters' disorganized sleeping routine, the bunker prevented the sun from invading the window-- a perk of living almost under the land in a bunker.

Instead of a normal reason to emerge from his rest, Dean's eyes fluttered open from an annoying migraine. Perhaps he went a little too hard on the alcohol yesterday, but that was the last thing that mattered. Besides, even if it was an abnormal sensation, he wouldn't trade it for sake of 'drinking like a normal human being', as (Y/N) had teased him so many times before.

(Y/N).

It took two seconds after recovering consciousness to think about you.

“Where are you?” he said in a whisper, playing with himself to the silent walls. Dean laughed with his own brand of self-deprecation-- a learned cruelty to dilute the tug of his emotions before the eldest Winchester had to get up. He knew exactly where you resided and why you were there. He decided against feeding his masochism for once, not glancing at your side of the bed.

To face the light fixtures above him only made his current situation more depressing, just like the hints of paint that (Y/N) had once thrown there. Dean Winchester knew pain like no other; hell, purgatory, an emptied childhood, watching his mother seal a deal with a demon, living with the fact his father had gone to hell to save him, being right in front of Sammy when he died, all the bloody deaths he’d lived through again and again-- the list would go on. He could probably drown in an ocean of his deceased loved ones’ blood and swim there for hours until he reached its edge.

Most of the time, the life of a hunter was synonymous with tragedy.

Therefore, Dean was very experienced when it came to suffering. He even shared a last name with a rifle, for God’s sake. Destruction was stained in his bones. This time, it was a different kind of torment.

His heart had been broken before, sure. He wasn’t in his early twenties, neither was he a saint. Dean was aware that a break in relationships could be devastating.

But again, this time, it was different. (Y/N) had not only broke his heart. You ripped it out and threw it in the trash as you walked out the door without looking back. His trust was in your pockets, and the beliefs clinging to the divine sensation of your touch that left with you.

Dean Winchester was hopeless. Deciding not to mourn for a bit, he closed his eyes from the melancholy. It wasn't a hard job to fall asleep once more. People in his job were always heavy-eyed.

Forty minutes passed by the clock until the Winchester roused again. This moment felt missing without you snuggling up to him or kissing his neck between foolish giggles or even pushing him out of bed when you felt like playing the prankster.

There was no valid reason to remain where he was, glaring at a stupid ceiling that held nothing but an old light you installed together and memories. The yellow and blue paints still held firm where you’d spattered them, jumping in the bed together with your hands drenched in the colors from a gouache paint container just because you’d found the tins somewhere in the bunker. You and Dean became a tangled mess of greens, dirty with paint and kissing. How many sexual encounters happened here, he thought, glaring at this ceiling that looked like three-year-old Sammy’s art project.

The green-eyed man never thought he would feel nostalgic about a stupid ceiling. He had to get out of that room.

Finally raising from the mattress, Dean yawned as he padded towards the kitchen. He didn't mind checking what time it was, knowing he needed an alcoholic getaway. The Winchester sat down, sharing a bottle of Whiskey with his shadow. How distracting it was to make his throat burn when an unpleasant thought attempted to take control of his head.

If he had dared to look through the room, Dean would have noticed the clock's arrow pointing at 10:50 am.

By noon he was already drunk, which took a lot of effort since his tolerance to drinks was a bar high set. Dean groaned, displeased. The buzzy feeling of befuddlement hitting him certainly helped, but he could still affirm that he had never felt less cool. His body was starving for something that wasn't there anymore. Dean's feelings were all over the place, and he didn't have the energy to pick them up at this point.

"I can't believe you are drinking already." Sam sighed, making himself known by Dean in the kitchen. In response, all he got was his brother holding the glass up and drinking all of its bronze liquid. "It's barely noon, Dean. You-- Wait. Are you drunk?"

"Don't start, Sam." He groaned, holding his own cheeks with fingers as his hands slid down to his chin. The gesture was a habit of Dean's when he was fed up with something.

The younger one offered him an indignant glare, which was soon replaced by empathy and sorrow as he watched Dean. His brother was broken. (Y/N) running away from them had really taken him down. Part of Sam was hurt as well-- after all, you were his friend and confidant. But, in all ruthless honesty, he couldn't speak out and point fingers at you on that. Not about the whole situation, at all.

Yet, if Sam was feeling abandoned by his friend, he could only imagine what Dean would be experiencing. You had been a hint of happiness in the middle of misery and combat for Dean. It had been so long since Sammy saw his brother like that, so very long. Suddenly, it disappeared like smoke. And the worst part was that he understood your side. Deep down, the long-haired man knew Dean did, too.

Trying to knock sense back into his brother, or at least a bit of normality, Sam spoke, "You can go out and buy some whiskey. Your bottle was the last one."

"Yeah, right." His voice was impassive, almost serious for such casual conversation. He got up, going to the table to grab Baby's keys.

"Hey, Dean..." Dean turned around to face his brother. Sam’s expression was cautious, voice soft when he continued: "If you want to talk about it, I'm here. It could help."

"I'm pretty sure you heard the screaming yesterday, Sam," Dean replied dryly, an unsettlingly wry smile surfacing. His walls were up. It was an old defense mechanism. "There is nothing to talk about. She left. The sooner we can accept it, the sooner we can move on."

"Move on? You want to move on?" he questioned suspiciously, eyebrows arching to match his inquiry.

Dean didn't answer. He only picked up the keys.

"Dean--"

"Yeah, I think we are out of eggs, too," Dean interrupted. He didn't need to talk about it. Not now. "Whiskey and eggs, got it."

Any other remarks from Sam were ignored as he walked through the door, trotting in direction of his beloved Impala. An old song on one of his cassettes was the soundtrack to his five-minute ride to the nearest store.

Dean went searching for eggs and whiskey, adding a lemon pie that smelled better than himself-- not that it was difficult considering he hadn’t showered since yesterday. The store’s cashier swiped his credit card and offered a polite farewell that was replied with a nod. Everything seemed so normal in the most boring ways.

In the parking lot, a familiar face appeared for the first time in a year. It was Thomas-- a hunter that Dean, you, and Sam had come across during a job in New Mexico.

"Winchester!" The blue-eyed man smiled, making the scar near his lips more evident. Being thrown out of a window left marks sometimes. "It's been too long, dude."

"Cavill." His lips curved into a small smile as he greeted his friend. Laying his green eyes on him, Dean couldn't avoid noticing a familiar shirt. Fuck, he must be hallucinating or thinking too hard about foolish subjects. "Where have you been?"

"Burning bones, decapitating vamps. Same old, same old." Thomas waved his hand, banalizing the supernatural routine as if it were nothing but another Sunday. For them, this was true. "I saw (Y/N) yesterday. She seemed fine. Separate hunts to take different cases?"

His blood burned through an emotional fever in realization. It felt like the boil was intense enough to melt his bones if he remained in front of the other men for too long. Thomas had never been subtle about finding you attractive, and neither was his constant flirting when your cases collided. It didn't help that you and Dean weren't together back then, even though the tension was obvious for anyone. The Winchester gripped his grocery plastic bag harder, offering him a sarcastic smirk.

"Something like that." He reached the car door and pulled out his keys. The familiar red flannel, your meeting with him-- it was so obvious it was basically written all over his face, and sadly, Dean could read it well. Fuck, he wanted to drop his purchases and punch that smile off Thomas’ face. That man probably had more of what was once his. “Gotta go. See you around.”

Sliding in the car to leave this conversation before his treacherous mind could reach more detestable conclusions, Cavill answered, "If you need help, give me a call.''

Dean mumbled something but didn't care enough to give him anything beyond a nod while the Impala finally drove away from Thomas.

At that moment, he wished a bit harder that Ellen was still alive or that another bar like hers existed. The hunters’ bar was full of people who understood that death was a part of the job. Somewhere he could swallow barrels of alcohol, play darts and tell bloody stories about his world-- about the quintessential things he did to get despair out of his system to the point that he felt comfortable on his own skin again.

So, that was it? You didn't just leave him and Sam, but you also accused him with all certainty you had of being a cold killer, and then you slept with the first man who showed up? Who was also a fucking hunter? Why the fuck didn't you tell him how you felt sooner? He wasn't an angel-- he would be even more of an arrogant asshole than he already was if that was the case, but you knew it all along. He didn't deserve anything good in his life. He should've seen it coming.

Dean pursed his lips, deciding for another ride to a normal bar. Home and all the beautiful, tragic ghosts inside could haunt him later.

It didn't take him long to park near an establishment. For once, he noticed the strong grip he held on the steering wheel, knuckles strained whiter than usual. He let out a tired sigh, glaring at the entrance of the place before grabbing his phone.

No calls from you. No text messages from you. Just the feeling of being a thirteen-year-old boy again, just like when he was waiting for Mary to send him a sign that she was all right.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Dean put it back in his pocket and made his way to the bar. No 'welcome' board light was shining yet, and he doubts anyone but he and the owner would be there. Once he got in, two guys were sitting in a table far away, and a girl was entering the bathroom. The bartender stood behind the bar, watching some game on the small television the place provided.

"Whiskey. No ice." His words came out harsher than he expected. The guy didn't seem to notice or care, simply nodding his head and turning around go get his client's order. One more time, Dean took his phone and stared at it. There was nothing but a text from Sammy that he quickly replied to, frowning in disappointment. It was rare for you to be the first one to break after a fight, but that was more than a stupid argument. You had left. You had fucking left. And he was the only one to blame.

Such a miserable routine kept its course. Dean would drink, check his phone, and hurt himself with his own thoughts. The night came with lurking shadows, and he couldn't care less. It seemed like the ghosts had replaced the bunker for his company. He didn't want to believe you would come back because hoping and being destroyed again was too much to bear with right now. Dean couldn't even breathe properly at the thought that he would never, ever see touch you, tease you, or be with you again. You had him wrapped around your finger since the very first day until you cut your hand off and left him. You left. How could you have left? But then, how could you had stayed if you had it all in your mind before?

Someone sat beside him. Still, it didn't catch the Winchester's attention until he heard her voice. For a flash of a second, he thought it was you. Dean looked up instantly, only to find himself incredulous.

The woman in front of him looked so much like you. She could easily be mistaken for your sister. Hair, eyes, voice. Everything but the lips were so similar. The unknown girl kept her gaze on Dean despite his strange reaction to her. Repeating her former words, she asked, "What are you drinking? Seems good."

Yeah, she wasn't (Y/N). You could tell what he was drinking from miles away, just because you knew exactly what he enjoyed. In addition, you’d seen his preferences so much that you’d memorized it all without even trying.

She looked like you, though. A lot. The earlier jealousy mixed with a dangerous quantity of alcohol and anguish made his decision. Move on, just like he told Sam. You didn't call him. You weren't coming back. That was your choice. He had to shut up the little hopes in his mind.

Putting up his best sultry smirk, Dean pushed the glass on the table towards her as he answered: "You tell me."

Two hours later, he was tilting his head to the side, watching the woman in his sheets peacefully taking a nap after a long run. Her hand covered most of her face, pillow carpeted with her messy hair.

"Wake up, (Y--)" Dean restrained himself from finishing that sentence. He almost said your name. It was hard enough to keep the woman's name, which he had forgotten by now, on his tongue during sex-- he wasn't going to give in at the end of it. Clearing his throat, the hunter started waking her up again. He needed to go.

In any other point of his life, he would've considered that night a success. A hot girl was sleeping beside him after he had a great amount of old whiskey. Sammy sent a text about a new case, and he had pie waiting for him in the car. At any other moment, that would be enough to put him in a good mood all day. In any other age, that would be considered a good day. No one died, he had sex and food and was about to hunt a thing and blow whatever it was up.

But you hadn't called.

It was probably a good thing in a messed up way. It was tranquil. There was no arguing, no fighting, no hurting from either side. That kind of hurt was quite similar to being comfortable, in a tremendously distorted way that he didn't wish to feel, like not putting medicine on the wound and just allowing it to heal by itself-- yet, occasionally scratching it. The idea of a comfortable silence was so overrated. Dean would rather be screamed at by (Y/N) by now than whatever this option was.

The woman woke up and left a note with her phone as she abandoned the room. Crumbling the paper, he threw it away and touched his face. A deep breath was taken.

He had work to do.

Maybe one day you'll call me

and tell me that you’re sorry too

But you never do

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lbat1901 · 4 years ago

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Rantception S1•E1 - princeofmints exposed | ft. TatSquirp

(I am about a month late on posting this here)

Welcome to the first episode of my brand new series titled Rantception where I talk about a topic or some unfortunate soul who became a total jerk as of recently. I am starting this series off by talking about the user by the name of princeofmints.

princeofmints is apart of the Eddsworld community and they are apart of the official EW Amino, Tumblr, and Instagram. Unfortunately princeofmints is in some hot water right now.

Oh and before I get to that, I just want to make this clear, the princeofmints that I am referring to isn't the one who made tomtord p*rn. This princeofmints is actually accused of tracing and being a total d*ck.

Also they got banned from Amino, but they are still going strong on both Tumblr and Instagram.

One more thing: don't harass them. Instead I want you to stop supporting them. Don't not praise them.

With that out the way, let's get into the news.

I unfortunately didn't know any of this drama that happened till seeing callout posts about it. But I used to like princeofmints's posts until what happened recently.

I decided to to take a look at their wall after seeing a few callout posts on them before they got taken down.

Annnnnd yeah.....they are such an arsehole. Just...just look at these screenshots....

(the third one is my favorite in terms of arsehole energy that's being radiated from it)

I'll be honest with you, the third is the one that show the bitterness of princeofmints. Trying to guilt trip you. I'm sorry to say this, but it's not working. Nice try.

Now I'll handing the rest of this over to the one and only Squirp/TatSquirp who've agreed to be on the show and I certainly didn't kidnap them.

Squirp: ...Why am I here? Why am I tied u-

Lbat1901(me): Shhhh! Just give the audience your side on this

Squirp: Ok, fine...*clears throat*....so a week ago, I've made a callout post exposing princeofmints titled "Dethroning a Prince". It took me awhile to everything and not too soon after posting it on Animo, I've also posted it on Instagram.

Oh boy...it got taken down. No actually I got told by a model on Animo to take it down which I did while on Instagram it got flagged for harassment. I eventually reposted it.

princeofmints (or what I like to call her, Prince) is a 15 year old artist who mostly draws Tom, Tord, and the ship TomTord. She was on the EW Amino since January 13th of this year before getting banned. S

Alright with that out of the way, I'll try to make this brief

She also has been known to cause quite the trouble.

I have been caught up to speed on what Prince has done even learning th as t she had actually scammed someone.

I believe that Lbat told you this already, but Prince's name was stolen by someone who has the same name, but let's dwell on this.

Part 1 - Tracing:

Squirp: Ok so, a few days ago some of my friends and I looked at one of Prince's art and discovered that it was traced from an already existing drawing made by P-Nim. Of course Prince denied this and claimed that it was her own art.

Ok I'll make this clear, Prince didn't draw it for a DTIYS. If Prince didn't trace it then she shouldn't be claiming it as her own.

Also if you want to compare posts or have a look for yourself, you can't cause she deleted it. So much for being reasonable which goes into this next part....

Part 2 - Blocking those who've cornered you for being unreasonable:

Squirp: Oh yes, just like TBATF, Prince also blocks people for calling her out. Unlike TBATF who only block people for giving them criticism and calling them out on their behavior, Prince blocks people for many reasons.

One of them being totally unreasonable. She blocked one of my friends who called her out for tracing. Prince even deleted several comments when trying to defend herself for being called out before deciding to hit the block button.

She even blocked me after I tried to call her out on her wall. I did PM her a few days later about and guess what her response was. The reason why she blocked me was because she didn't like me.

My god....that has to be most stupidest as all hell reason to block someone and folks, we're on the second part on this and things are already getting heated.

Part 3 - Being a b*ch isn't all that cool:

Squirp: Hold on a minute, why is b*ch censored?

(Editor: that's because it's Lbat's show and I am meant to help with anything that Lbat puts out for everyone to see)

Squirp: Yeah, but why? Who cares anyway?

(Editor: well you're probably have a point, but it's my job. Now are you going to continue to argue or are you going to keep going with your side of the story?)

Squirp: I am...geez! I've never meant an editor that's who picky. This isn't YouTube with the whole COPPA thing you know.

Anyway..... pt 3....Prince has to be one of the biggest d*cks that I have ever talked to and- oh my god, why would you censor the word- forget it. Forget it...

Erm...yeah....she cursed at some many people that it's just mindboggling. She's not the most pleasant person to talk to on Amino or anywhere else.

Before you say that she probably has some mental health issues, don't even bother. Well I know she does has some issues, but it doesn't give her the excuse to not be a total d*ck. People who do have issues are at least well spoken and are respectful to others.

But Prince on the other hand, not a freaking single chance.

Part 4 - Stop acting sad:

Squirp: You're probably thinking to yourself, "Wow, Prince is a jerk" and you'd be right. But to make matters worse, she likes to guilt trip people.

How? Well she tries to make you feel sorry for her by giving you a sad sad tale before deciding to cuss you out.

That's right, it's pretty low for her. I don't need to explain why this is bad just because it is. It's really scummy especially when she's in the wrong here. Next!

Part 5 - Don't let Prince do commissions. EVER:

Oh yeah, she actually did this. I did found the person who got scammed and they are a person known as BadBoy.

You see BadBoy commissioned Prince to do a drawing for 92 coins. Unfortunately for BadBoy, Prince said that the price was actually lower than that. But it gets much much worse than that.

Prince got wicked with them and refused to give other pieces of art to BadBoy. Eventually BadBoy had enough and asked for a refund. That's when things started to escalate really fast.

Prince told BadBoy to piss off. After a long battle, Prince gave BadBoy 72 coins back when BadBoy asked for a full refund.

Squirp: I have been saving this part for last and it gave me a reason to make a callout on Prince in the first place. She literally scammed someone over 72 coins.

In summary, Prince just stole BadBoy's money and was a total d*ck towards them.

And that should do it for now, but I one final message to Prince. If you're reading this now while getting harassed for being callout for your crap: none of this, and I stress this a lot, none of this wouldn't have happened if you were to just act a tad bit kinder and a whole bit wiser.

Oh and maybe if you would've just listened. Also running away from your problems, lying, and pretending that they didn't happen makes you look like the bad guy here.

You know, I wouldn't mind you being on Animo at all if you just shallow your pride and try to do better by apologizing to everyone.

I didn't mean to make my callout post to hurt you in a way. In fact, I still believe that you can change. But atlas, your problems need to be addressed to make that happen.

All you need to do is try. That's it. That's all I ask for.

Lbat1901(me): *claps* Nicely done, Squirp. Nicely done.

Squirp: Thanks Lbat. It's been a pleasure being on here. Now can I go home now?

Lbat1901(me): Uhh.....*walks away from Squirp and walks out of the room before shutting the door*

Squirp: Lbat? Uh Lbat? Lbat? This isn't funny! Untie me! Hey cameraman, you're still here. Untie me, please

Camraman: *shrugs before shaking their head*

Squirp: What do you mean no? Ugh!

{screen cuts to Lbat sitting in a chair}

Lbat1901(me): Well that's the end of the first episode of Rantception. I want to thank TatSquirp for coming on and helping me out. Please check them out on the EW Amino and possibly their Instagram as well while you're at it.

#lbat rambles #lbat rants #rantception #rantception season 1 #rantception episode 1 #princeofmints #princeofmints exposed #callout #callout post #tatsquirp #lbat1901's channel 7 lucky hour

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