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simpingcorner · 1 year

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Daughter of the Shadows

Word Count: ~1.3k Warnings: mild violence (stabbing, mentions of gunshots, physical fighting), blood, alcohol, gambling,mention of human tr*****, Pekka Rollins,not proofread, let me know if I forgot something.

Author's Note: First chapter to my Grishaverse fanfic. A reminder this is insipred by my SoC DR so it’ll follow both the books and the show plotlines, there will be changes to the canon characters and their storylines, it’s also a Kaz Brekker x OC. | English isn’t my first language so please bear with me and tell me if there’s something wrong. I hope you like it.

all rights to leigh bardugo, i only owny liith and her backstory (other ocs will be introduced later)

Read part 2 here - Ch.3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6

CHAPTER 1

LILITH

The starless night sky, the waves breaking on the rocks, the muffled sounds coming from the city, the briny autumn air surrounded her, it happened before she could even think of enjoying the moment a voice broke the night silence, the girl jumped to her feet, knives drawn, eyes locked on the darkness in front of her as her legs moved independently, silent movements, invisible to the inexperienced eyes allowed her to move closer to the noise source, as she’d expected a crowd had formed on the pier of the fourth harbour. Their guns reflected the dim street lamps’ light, red rubies shone under the moonlight, “This wasn’t the deal.” said a merchant’s voice, “The deal was you’d bring me fresh meat and I’d set you free.” Pekka Rollins’ hoarse voice echoed in her ears, she watched and studied the scene in front of her, hidden by the shadows, disgusted at the ideas of even more lives ruined by Pekka Rollins.

The smell of blood came before she could even realize what was going on, the pier’s shadows hid her making her even more dangerous than in the daylight, her knives handles now an extension to her hands, her leather gloves blood stained, her legs silents and fast followed a now too familiar pattern, the men surrounded her, guns at her head ready to fire, the girl’s eyes studied the scene as in a book, reviewing every possible outcome, she was surrounded, the men much bigger than her, she gripped the handles of her knives, the material seemed to heat up under the pressure, the lights of the street lamps trembled ready to go out at any given moment, the salty air now corrupted by the smell of blood and gunpowder. “I don’t want to kill you Mrak.” Said the merchant stopping in front of the brunette, a grin forming on his face studying her. “I wish I could say the same.” The girl replied wiping blood from her cheek with the back of her hand, her eyes full of anger, hatred, revenge, but her face was impassive, the scar on her righ cheek illuminated by the lamp post, her lips and jaw tight, her feet and hands ready to attack or defend, the faded tattoo of Emerald Palace was still too visible on her left forearm. “I thought you’d be happy to hear another slaver dead.” The man continued staring at her, “Wasn’t it one of them who brought you here? Who ruined your life?” the brunette knew if she’d attacked the rest of the Dime Lions would open fire to save their leader, “My life was over before I even got to Ketterdam.” she said closing her fists and inhaling before attacking, their moves were draw in her brain like the project of a house on paper, predictable and obvious, during each fight the Dime Lions’d forgot they had guns in their hands, finding themselves fighting hand to hand with their rivals.

The girl’s eyes became watery, a sudden burning sensation invaded her right forearm, the gray sleeve darkened, soaked in blood, but before she could assimilate what happened, the dagger disappeared from her hand finding a new home in the skull of one of the men surrounding her, some had fled, others were on the ground gasping for air or passed out. Her eyes found Pekka Rollins’, her face covered in blood, her left hand gripping her right arm, “Next time I won’t let you free.” said the man turning on his heels and disappearing into the shadows of the pier, the girl inhaled trying not to think about the pain in her arm, the burning had given way to cold and numbness, the brunette put her knives back in their places before walking back towards the Barrel.

Ketterdam was the place to go if you wanted to disappear, a city run by criminals, thieves, crooks, murderers; a city where authorities were nearly as corrupted, if not more, than the citizens; tourists from all over the world came to live without rules, to enjoy the freedom of a city without laws, to distract themselves from the problems of their daily lives, with their money, clean clothes, hot food on the table, a roof over their heads, a warm comfortable bed to sleep in after a tiring day, hot water always at the ready for a relaxing bath; the more fortunate citizens, the merchants, the Council members, the owners of the most famous clubs in the city lived in safe, warm, private houses; all the others, on the contrary, lived from day to day, hoping and praying to the Saints that they’d have enough to be able to afford a common room, a hot meal, or to be able to repay their debts.

The smell of the Barrel invaded her nostrils as she went from roof to roof trying not to be seen, the window to his office was open, a sign that he was waiting for Inej, the girl knew she shoulnd’t have gone in but with her arm injured she wouldn’t be able to open her bedroom window, and entering the front door was out the question. She climbed over to the window and nimbly entered the room, the inexperienced ear would never notice the air shift caused by the girl, but Kaz Brekker wasn’t inexperienced, not when it came to his investments. “I will not do business with a criminal.” The unknown voice filled the room, forcing her to hide in the shadows, her steps were silent, her breath inaudible, “You will find no honest man in Ketterdam.” Kaz replied before dismissing the man and closing the door behind him, “You can come out.” he simply said going back to studying the papers on the desk, the girl headed to the door, her arm hidden behind her back, her face covered in blood, her steps trembling but still too silent and proud, she barely got to reach the doorknob that his cane stopped her, the girl’s eyes fixed on the door, her hand firm on the doorknob, “What do you have for me?” the boy said as he sat down at his desk, the cane resting on his knee in of him staring at her, the crow’s eyes on the handle seemed to study her. “Pekka Rollins has bought other kids.” The boy’s face was stern, unreadable, fixed on the brunette in front of him, “He killed the slaver at Fourth Harbour.” the girl explained. “Okay.” His voice was hollow, the voice of someone who had decided to turn off their emotions, the same voice used by the girl.

The cut on her forearm was less serious than she had imagined, the help of a healer would have fastened the recovery but she didn’t have the money nor the time to find one, she tightened the bandage on the wound and left her room heading towards the bar counter, “Lilith, came to bring me luck?” Jesper’s cheery voice woke her up from the trance she was in, the Zemeni boy motioned for her to sit next to him at the poker table.

The Crow Club was full of tourists and non, whoever was in the Barrel and wanted to tempt fate was there, the girl noticed Rotty and Specht busy gambling away the last few coins they had left, Big Bolliger greeted her from the door before kicking out yet another cheater, Anika stared at her from the counter, while Jesper looked at her with a smile, letting her slip in next to him. “SO how much did you lose?” The girl asked as she sat down and studied the table, “Your lack of confidence hurts me Lilith.” said Jesper betting the rest of his Kruge on the upcoming hand, “Just saying if you don’t pay your debts, Per Haskell won’t kick out only you, and I really like my room.” explained the girl pulling out her daggers and cleaning them, she could feel his gaze on her, he was studying her, the bandage on her harm, a bandage that wasn’t there just a few minutes before, but as soon as she looked up he was gone, the office door closed at the top of the stairs.

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misc-obeyme · 5 months

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9 Days of Solomon: Day 6 - Snow

Okay this one's a little different, so here's a bit of an explanation.

I just really wanted to write a scene with my OC Arsenios and Solomon because their relationship is so funny to me. So this is a short scene from when they first met. It takes place before the brothers fell, but after Solomon has made his pact with Barbatos. It's written from Solomon's perspective and happens in the human world. I think you can read it without any prior knowledge of Arsenios, but if you want to know more about him, his post is here.

(Also I was struggling with the snow prompt until I got this idea and then there was no turning back lol.)

Solomon had been hearing the rumors for years. Whispers here and there about humans selling their souls in exchange for musical talent. He hadn't really thought much about it, but he did file away the information whenever he came across it. He was surprised how frequently it seemed to come up in his travels. So when he finally learned a name, he decided to find out more for himself.

Winter had just begun, but the air was already frigid. Everyone knew the best time to summon a demon was at night, so Solomon was outside in the bitter cold darkness. Fortunately, there was only a light sprinkling of snow on the ground, but it still crunched underfoot.

People had talked about this demon being easy to find at a crossroads, so Solomon had gone out to a spot where two dirt roads crossed each other. Carefully, he traced the summoning circle on the ground, drawing the symbols in the dirt and snow.

When he was done, Solomon recited the summoning spell, finishing with, "I summon the music demon, Arsenios!"

Magic crackled through the circle, converging upon the center. There was a brief flash and a demon materialized out of thin air.

He was tall and thick with light brown skin and long dark brown hair with bright red highlights. His eyes were purple, his outfit all black, but he wasn't in demon form. His stance was casual, his hands in his pockets. He seemed almost bored, like he was used to being summoned out of the blue.

Arsenios squinted. "Solomon?"

Solomon smiled. "Have we met?"

"Nah," Arsenios said. "But I'd have to be living under a rock not to recognize you. What do you want?"

"A pact," Solomon said.

Arsenios tsked. "Sure. You want a pact. For what? Not musical talent."

"No," Solomon agreed.

"If you think you're gonna add me to your collection, you've got another thing coming," Arsenios said.

Solomon laughed. "Is there really no reason you can think of to make a pact with me? You would be joining some important names."

Arsenios actually looked contemplative at this for a moment, but then he shook his head. "I don't know what happened with you and Barbatos, but just because I respect him doesn't mean I have to respect you. I don't know what you want with all those pacts, but I have more than enough to deal with in that area, thanks."

"All right," Solomon said. He wasn't worried. He hadn't really been expecting to make a pact with this demon. "But if I may ask, what exactly are you doing in that area? Giving humans musical talent?"

Arsenios folded his arms. "It's none of your business," he said.

Solomon sighed. "It's my business if you're making pacts with humans only to kill them over it later."

"Who said anything about killing?" Arsenios asked.

Solomon frowned. "I've been hearing about it for quite some time. A demon who grants musical talent to humans who then die tragically young."

"That has nothing to do with me," Arsenios said. "And I don't answer to you either way. Don't summon me again."

Solomon was about to say something else, but Arsenios was gone.

Solomon looked up at the night sky and shivered as it began to snow. He would continue to listen for rumors about this situation. It was his job to keep humanity safe. If he had to summon this demon again, he would. But for now, he smudged out the summoning circle, glad that this area would soon be covered in a layer of white.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#sorry I just love my OC lol #9DaysofSolomon #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me oc #obey me solomon #misc oc arsenios #misc writes

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peachywise · 2 years

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Lessons in Honesty

steve harrington x reader

chapter 1

– other chapters: part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5 ⋆ part 6 ⋆ part 7 ⋆ part 8

– synopsis: Being Robin Buckley’s younger sibling had always been uneventful, up until she got herself tangled with Steve Harrington. And really, you were happy for her. She deserved friends. What was bothersome was when he got let in on small secrets like your infatuation with Eddie Munson, and decided to take it into his own hands to try and get him to pay attention to you-- by pretending to be your boyfriend.

– notes: it has been a long time since i have written fan fiction but here i am!! my dumbass loves a fake-dating plot and i couldn’t resist. i hope to update this pretty regularly, and i post here and under the same username on ao3. i think i’m going to continue to post this as a reader insert and then do an alternative version that’s with an oc (because i can and reader insert series mess with my brain) BUT here’s to hoping y’all enjoy it!! read here or on ao3 _____________________________

“Stop staring, dweeb.”

The voice cut through a fraction of your brain fog. Not enough to draw your attention away from your current pin-pointed focus, but certainly enough that some semblance of normal thought would have eventually trickled back in. You know, had it not been for the second later when an arm cut across your vision and someone flicked you on the forehead. Patience was never your sister’s virtue.

Still, it did shock you enough out of the stupid little reverie you had fallen into that had been going on for a good five minutes. It was probably better she busted the daydream before someone else caught you and thought you were someone’s lobotomy patient left without supervision.

“Christ, Robin!” You huffed, slapping away her hand as she gave you an indignant look. It was distraction enough that you managed to flick her right back on the forehead right after. Maturity was never your virtue.

“That was a lot harder than I did it,” she argued back, already trying to thwack you once again.

It quickly became a sitting wrestling match as you tried to capture each other’s arms, biting low insults at one another as it went along. You finally managed to yank Robin’s arm down and back to her side, head twisting fast to see if anyone was watching the scuffle. Thankfully not. There was already so much commotion between the football idiots trying to knock soda cans off one another’s heads by throwing a spiral. They probably weren’t even trying to hit the can anymore with how much harder they laughed when the ball slammed into someone’s face instead. I mean— It was kinda funny.

“I sat beside you, and you didn’t even notice me. Do you think that if you stare long enough, it will intimidate Eddie’s clothes into falling off his body?”

The instinctual hand that slapped over her mouth at that moment might have been loud enough to draw some attention if it wasn’t so perfectly timed with the loud smack that came from the football hitting someone in the face again. Divine intervention at its finest.

“You don’t have to say every thought that pops into your head,” you whispered harshly, eyes still nervously darting around just to double-check no one had heard. Your only solace was that you hadn’t decided to sit at a closer table to Eddie, who was far out of earshot halfway across the quad.

“Tell me about it,” offered a new voice from directly behind you. Shock and surprise rolled through your body as if electrocuted, eyes widening as a familiar figure sat opposite you at the picnic table. “The other day, she was complaining about how annoying it is that your mom tells embarrassing stories about you both to company, but then lets it slip in the same sentence that she wet the bed until she was nine.” Robin must have kicked Steve’s shin under the table because he let out an even more dramatic “Ow!” than you thought him capable of.

“What, did they realize they made a mistake in letting you graduate and rescind your diploma?” You asked him, probably a bit more snippy of a greeting than usual, given that you were still red-faced and deflated from Robin’s mental attack.

Robin gave a short snort at how Steve reared his head back an inch, his floppy hair moving with him like its own appendage. “Ignore them. They’re just mad Eddie Munson doesn’t know they exist.”

You always thought choking on water was something only people on television did when they were shocked. Turns out, It was very much an honest reaction and one you could do simply with your own spit. “I hope you trip over your own feet and the doctors have to wire your jaw shut,” you breathed out, covering your heating face with your hands as you tossed your head back, wishing you were anyway else. And by anywhere, you meant that in the truest sense there was. Let the footballers whisk you away and use your face as target practice instead.

“Munson? You like Eddie’ The Freak’ Munson?” Steve sputtered back. You were thankful that he didn’t just laugh in your face instead, like when Robin found out. You still felt the phantom feeling of her spit flying on your face when she did. Then again, maybe laughter wasn’t the worst reaction. When you removed your hands from your face and saw the genuine look of astonishment and confusion cross his features, brows furrowed, head slightly cocked to the side and studying you as if you were the freak, you began to wonder if you’d prefer the slice of a chuckle and not the hammer of a disappointed and alienating stare. “So you’ll joke about me never graduating— which I did, they can’t just take that back— but find that a desirable trait in Eddie? You do realize he was held back for two years.” As if his own words finally hit his ears, he screwed his face up like he smelled something bad. “Jesus, dude is like twenty years old.”

“I never said it was logical, okay?” you huffed back, folding your arms over your chest, then unfolding them, feeling too restless and itchy at the scrutinization your sister and her idiot friend were putting you through. “I know it’s not going to happen—known that since I was a freshman and joined the Hellfire Club. You can both let it go now.”

You’re a Junior now, and Eddie still treats you the same as if you were a wandering lost puppy he pitied and took in. You kind of were back as a freshman. No friends, not really anyone to talk to other than Robin, wandering around aimlessly in the hallways like the least scary ghost there was, given how many people tried to walk through you. You’d prefer outward avoidance to that. Still, things were different now. Maybe your only friends were members of the Hellfire Club, but at least you’d ranked up from lost puppy to social pariah but with a decent backbone. Eddie, however, clearly didn’t see it that way. His nickname of pipsqueak stuck and has followed you since. Sometimes, he shortens it to Pip, which would be fine if half the student population didn’t think that actually was your name. Some didn’t even believe you when you corrected them.

Robin raised her hands up in surrender, which was bullshit if you’ve ever seen it. “Whatever. Look, I’ve got band practice, so you have to walk home by yourself. Tell Mom to remember to leave the leftovers in the fridge this time, okay? I don’t want to accidentally eat a fly like last time because she left my plate out.” She said that with so much ease as she stood up and walked away, acting as if she hadn’t behaved like someone sprinkled rat poison on her tongue when it happened. It was pretty gross, to be fair. Just thinking about it made you mentally gag and reach for a toothbrush.

“I’ll be fine,” you called out, the same time Steve let out a disgusted mangled noise that sounded halfway between a dog trying to get a stuck piece of kibble out of its throat and a baby trying to say their first words. You stood up from the bench and swung your backpack over one shoulder.

Steve’s voice cut off your movement when you began to walk away. “Hey, let me drive you home. Your sister made me come all the way here to drop off her trumpet she left in my car. I’m already acting like a glorified errand boy today.”

You gave a short, breathy laugh, eyebrow raised. “Just today?” You asked teasingly. That got you an eye roll. “I’m good. Robin just acts like this town is more dangerous than it is. I assure you, a walk by myself will not kill me.” She’s had a tendency to hover lately. And by association, so did Steve, though you just assumed it’s because you were hanging out with Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Max lately, and he had that weird sort of older brother/fifth-wheel type relationship with them. You also assumed it had something to do with Nancy. A lot of what Steve did had to do with Nancy.

“Are all you Buckley’s this painfully stubborn? Just get in the damn car,” he fought back with as much patience as your sister had. Which, as stated earlier, is none at all.

“Steve, it’s fine.“ At this point, you were arguing back merely on some screwed-up principle. You might have gotten farther with it had Steve not stalked next to you and yanked your backpack from your shoulder, already walking off towards the parking lot with conceited expectations that you would fall in line and trail behind him.

You did. He had your bag.

At least you managed to snag one last glance at Eddie as you walked past.

“Has anyone ever told you that your bossy?” You muttered under your breath as you stopped at the familiar burgundy brown BMW that your sister had begun to use as her personal taxi. He tossed your bag into the back once he slipped into the driver’s seat, leaning over the center console to push open the passenger door you waited by.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have bad taste in men?” He supplied back, putting the key in the ignition when you slammed the door shut.

“Don’t start,” you said, staring at him heavily annoyed as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m not even as bad as you. Everyone sees the way you pine after Nancy.”

His head snapped so fast to look at you that you quickly smacked his arm to remind him to keep his eyes on the road. “Everyone does not— I don’t *pine* after Nancy, okay? I get it. She’s with Jonathan. We’re friends.”

“Friends who want to—”

“Don’t start.”

Alright. Fair.

Still, it was hard to believe the whole friend’s thing, not only because of the looks Steve gave Nancy, but the ones you saw her give him behind his back. Jonathan wasn’t here. He was in California. And whether or not Nancy just gave Steve lingering looks that were remnants of the past, there were moments you wondered if that was just it. Robin surely didn’t. She was pro-Steve and Nancy all the way. You were shocked she hadn’t already made embarrassing T-shirts about it.

“Don’t let Robin pollute your thoughts,” Steve broke the silence, a more quiet seriousness passing over his concentrated face. “She thinks there’s still something there, but there isn’t. Probably because all these dates I’ve been on lately have all gone to shit. I think Nancy even stares at me with pity about it too.” Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he ran his other in a frustrated motion over his jaw. “It’s annoying. I wish everyone would get off my back about the whole thing.”

“Well, why not just tell them you’re seeing someone? Not like it has to be anyone in Hawkins. Dustin’s got that long-distance girlfriend of his.” It was easy enough to lie about that sort of thing, right?

Steve gave an unamused snort. “Yeah, like Robin will just let that one slide. She’ll see right through it.”

“Then just ask someone to pretend to be your girlfriend for a while. I’m sure plenty of people are lining up just to have a shot with the late, great Steve Harrington, even if it isn’t real,” you joked, though it was true. You’d never really talked to him before he became friends with Robin, but you remembered him from the hallways last year. Heard his name bounce around girl’s lips too often to ignore it.

“Thanks for that,” he muttered in return, hand gripping his steering wheel tightly as he went quiet once more. You shrugged, turning your attention to the window as you watched your neighbourhood come into view. Playgrounds, bright red fire hydrants, trees with tire swings hanging off thick branches. Yeah. Truly a terrifying small town if you ever saw one.

“But maybe you’re on to something.”

Of course, you were on to something. You may be hopeless sometimes, but you were actually pretty clever—

“Why don’t you date me?”

It was a good thing you weren’t the one driving. You would have crashed the car. He would have deserved it.

“You can just drop me off here,” you replied, reaching for the handle, thinking the best option in this scenario was to tuck and roll out of the car. Steve grabbed your wrist before you could. Damn.

“I don’t mean for real, smart ass. But think about it. It would solve my problem, and maybe even yours too.”

You turned back to look at him with a face that read, ‘maybe they should have taken away your diploma, after all.’ “And what problem do you see me facing?”

“Eddie. Eddie’s your problem. You want him to notice you, right? Jerk off’s never been my fan, and it probably annoys the shit out of him that I hang around Henderson and the other idiots. Add you to that equation, mixed in with a guy’s stupid need to have something they can’t have, and he’ll want to be dating you in no time.”

Huh.

“It’s surprising you were never a mathlete in school with logic like that.”

“Can you be serious for a second?” Steve pleaded back at you, turning into your driveway as he did. Even though you were home, you didn’t think getting out of this car was going to be any easier at that moment than it was any earlier.

“I am being serious!” You replied back, a small laugh escaping you at the absolute absurdity. You wouldn’t be shocked if this was just some elaborate prank set up by Robin to pay you back for ruining her favourite sweater a week ago. It was a bit overkill, but you had to appreciate the effort. “You’re the one not being serious. No one would even believe it anyway.”

Steve gave an oddly offended look. “And why wouldn’t anyone believe it? What, you’d never stoop so low?” Jesus, here he was, putting words in your mouth already.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I mean you would never stoop so low. What, the holy ex-basketball player dating his best friend’s little sibling who spends most of their days drawing alone or playing Dungeons and Dragons? Doesn’t exactly scream your type.”

He opened his mouth to argue back, judging by the narrowed look of his brows but decided to drop whatever it was. He deflated with a sigh into his seat, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I-“ he paused again. “That’s not true, alright? Can you just think about it?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, studying him and trying to understand why he was being so pushy with it. You could see how his predicament was bothersome. You’ve been on the receiving end of Robin’s persistent nagging countless times. But there was probably more to it than that if you were to bet. If Steve was so willing to sell himself out to try and make Eddie jealous, chances are he was hoping that using you would do the same for Nancy. He could deny it all he wanted, but there was still a hang-up there.

“Fine.” You relented, Steve’s hand immediately dropping from his face as he sat up perfectly straight like an obedient child just being told they could have one treat. You held up your hand to tamper it down. “Fine, I’ll think about it. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Turning back around to grab your backpack, you opened your door and slipped out of the car. Steve leaned over the seat and reached for the handle. You thought he would shut it and just be done with it, but he surprised you by saying, “don’t take too long. You don’t have to play hard to get with me,” with an infuriating smirk.

And then he shut the door in your face.

#stranger things #st #st4 #stranger things season 4 #steve harrington #joe keery #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #robin buckley #eddie munson #steve harringston fanfiction #stever harrington x reader #st fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #st fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine

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raccoonfallsharder · 3 months

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The Other Side of the Window. [est 1/25] ❤︎

18+ only MDNI | rocket x oc | upcoming: 26/27 chapters | wip | word count: pending.

NSFW under the cut

It’s another circumrotation before Jolie finally gets the idea she’s been waiting for. She mulls it over for a couple cycles and then, one morning, she wakes up to Rocket asleep on top of her belly: head between her breasts, tail twitching against the seam of her thighs. She stretches beneath him, then winds her arms around him, tucking him in closer. She loves when he sleeps like this, curled on top of her torso. He’s better than a weighted blanket: fur and warmth and probably heavier than he should be thanks to all the metal augmenting his insides, squishing her into the thin mattress in the best possible way, compressing her lungs. She can feel her heartbeat against him, and smells that musky, woodsy scent he always carries with him, lanced through with the sharp bite of electricity like a lightning strike.

She could lay here forever.

Eventually he stirs, realizes where he is, and stretches against her in a way that makes her melt. He yawns, mouth working as he flexes his narrow jaw, waking himself up.

“Morning, baby.”

He mumbles something she can’t quite pick up, rubbing his furred cheek against her breasts. Rocket is a snuggler: a fact that’s never-ever surprised her, except for the idea that she gets to be the lucky person he snuggles.

He stretches again, this time uncurling to lay his full length across her vertically - head pressed into her chest, knees pressing between her thighs till she opens them and she can feel his dick nudging into her abdomen. She strokes her hands carefully over his back, fingers rippling over scar and metal and fur, then runs her fingers through the fur behind his ears and scratches. A few more moments of comfortable, dozy quiet, and then he shifts.

“Coffee?” he offers raspily. She smiles against the top of his head.

“In a minute,” she agrees, her hands continuing their leisurely stroll over his shoulders and down his flanks. “I had a question to ask you. A favor, really.”

He snorts, one narrow hand coming up to cup the breast currently in front of his face. Her nipple hardens immediately. “Don’t gotta keep me in bed to ask me for somethin’,” he tells her dryly. “We both know I’m a frickin’ pushover for you at this point.” He draws lazy circles around her areola with his blunted claws, and she can feel him grin against her skin when her breath hitches. He blows a cool stream of air over her nipple and chuckles when she shivers and her nipple stiffens further. “There’s my sweet little slut,” he purrs.

Jolie tilts her head back, staring at the ceiling while the faint prickling sensation radiates from the sensitive skin of her breast.

“You can say no,” she reminds him breathily. “I just wanted to see if you wanted to help me. With an art project.”

She feels him shift, and now he’s looking up at her. He noses the soft underside of her chin, warm and light and tickling. She shivers. He knows exactly what he’s doing, of course.

“What project?” he asks, breath stirring against her skin.

Window Across the Galaxy ✧･ﾟ:*preview

excerpt from Chapter XXVI. The Other Side of the Window. [est 1/25] ❤︎ in which old friends are reunited.

i'm posting window across the galaxy ✧･ﾟ:* previews ahead of each upcoming chapter to like. keep me motivated. because this has been such a long journey and i'm feeling all bittersweet about it coming to a close in the next few weeks.

Chapter XXVII. The Most Beautiful Thing in My House. [est 2/6] ❤︎ [END]

some explicit statements or references ✩ explicit scenes or fantasy sequences ❤︎‬ long, detailed, and graphic explicit content ❤︎‬❤︎

#fanfic preview #window across the galaxy #fanfiction preview #longform fic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #gotg fanfiction #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #rfh fanfic #rocket raccoon x oc #rocket x jolie #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #gotg rocket #rocketraccoon #rocket gotg #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #gotg fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfic

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excelsi-or · 5 months

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summoned (pt. 15)

one more part after this, my friends! they're both going up simultaneously :) i'll have more to say at the end of the next one. love you all! hope the holidays are treating you well, and if they aren't, then i hope the day is okay today and you get to be cozy, and i hope tomorrow is better.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader/fem!OC

w.c. 1.7k

When they arrive at the right nuclear plant, the sky is now burning red. Halfway through the drive, Jihoon had started screaming, which had just put her nerves on end. Both her parents had messaged asking her where she was. She hadn’t responded to their questions, just told them she loved them and she’d be home soon.

It seems the alarms have not stopped blaring since they started. From the front gate, they can hear the piercing sound. A guard is lying on the ground outside the security box, rolled on his side with Hansol’s sweater over him.

“The angel must have put him to sleep,” Jihoon yells as they drive past.

They skid to a halt in front of the nuclear plant. Seokmin runs at them from the side of the building. Jihoon continues screaming, as he kneels next to the car. The fire won’t go out, and she can hear the metal groaning, about to break. She grabs Jihoon’s hand and yanks him away from the pending metal fireball.

“What’s wrong with him? What happened to you? Are you on fire?” Seokmin pats her shoulder to put out a small flame she’d caught when she got out of the car.

She glances at her shoulder where there is now a scorch mark in her dress sleeve. “That makes me look more like the Antichrist, no?”

At the mention of the Antichrist, the door to the nuclear plant bursts open.

A figure clad in black with a scythe slung along its back leads the way. Its hood is up, so no one can see its face. Three other figures follow close behind.

Famine and War saunter close behind Death. A smaller character, one she doesn’t recognize, glides behind them.

“Is that an oil slick?” she whispers.

“Say hello to ‘Pollution’,” Seokmin informs her.

She tips her head. “Fitting.”

“The Antichrist has arrived.” The way Death says it makes it sound as if she should be greeted with arms wide open. But from Death, she’s happy with the slow walk towards her.

Jihoon stands just behind her and watches her entire body seize at Death’s proclamation. Seokmin must notice it too, because he looks as if he’s going to move towards her.

But Death isn’t doing anything, and right now, she’s probably at her most powerful. The wind picks up around them as the Four Horsemen draw nearer.

Jihoon feels the air being sucked out from around him, and he inhales a deep breath.

And then the wind slows.

“What’s happening?” Seokmin asks.

The Antichrist answers his question with a question. “What do I do?”

“Is this you?” Jihoon peers closely at a fly moving slowly past his face. He nudges it up slightly.

“This really cannot be the only way, can it?”

“You’ve literally slowed time down at will,” Seokmin states. He swats at Jihoon to pay attention and stop poking all the bugs.

Jihoon obediently moves to her side and interlaces his fingers with hers. “This is the most powerful you’ve ever been. If you decide to go through with the end of the world, you can be even more so.”

“Jihoon,” Seokmin hisses.

“But you never seemed to want power.” Jihoon presses his lips to her knuckles. “So, just like you did with the car and the fire bridge, you should be able to do the same thing.”

“Not die?” she asks.

Jihoon chuckles. “But I likely won’t be able to touch you again.”

Seokmin rolls his eyes. “Meets one human he likes and suddenly can’t keep it in his pants even when the world’s ending.” Despite hissing under his breath, both the demon and Antichrist hear him.

“Shame,” she chuckles. She squeezes Jihoon’s hand, her eyes still on Death’s even slower approach. “You are good at it.”

“Well, there will be other humans.”

She hums, glancing at him. “Maybe.”

Jihoon grins, his eyes flickering cat-like before reverting to normal. “You get to decide what happens today.”

“Just please don’t let us die,” Seokmin huffs. He steps up and reaches for her hand. He winces only slightly. “We can’t help you if you kill us. But we support whatever decision you make.”

This gets her to look away from Death, time returning to normal. The angel and demon step back again. The rumbling of the earth is now apparent in real time.

“Your father… is… coming,” Death drawls, turning slightly.

She catches sight of a face beneath the hood, but not enough to make out what exactly the face is.

“My father is coming?” the Antichrist repeats, suddenly hearing the words properly.

She hears a name being called. In a voice she doesn’t recognize.

It is not her name, and she tilts her head, noticing the gleeful expressions on the faces of the Horsemen she can see. The name speaks to her, but it is not hers.

And she wonders what Death meant when it said that her father was coming. Her mind flicks to her literal angel of a father, wondering why he would come here of all places. Her father’s such a homebody. It’s a struggle just to convince him to come to the beach.

And then it’s her name.

In a voice she does recognize.

Her father appears around the side of the building as if by magic, his wings disappearing into his clothes (because the angels decided taking away his soul was fair, but his wings he could keep), his feet barely touching the ground as he hurries towards her. He hardly glances at the Four Horsemen who, besides Death, look completely baffled.

“I told your mother you were doing something nefarious.”

She turns at the sound of wings flapping behind her. Her mother drops down next to her. “And I told you she’d be here.”

Her father tuts. “But you didn’t tell us you were going to be here.”

“She has her own angel and demon, Tin.” Xero glances over her shoulder at Jihoon. She even honours Seokmin with a split-second glance. “We’re the ones who birthed the Antichrist. It’s not as if we were going to be the ones to guide her.”

“Were you on fire?” Her father brushes the burn mark on the shoulder of her dress. “And you wore a dress to the final days of—”

A loud boom gets all the beings’ attention. If this situation were a cartoon, the roof of the nuclear building would have jumped up.

Her eyes widen, and she turns to Seokmin.

Seokmin rushes towards the building, but before he can burst through the doors, Hansol stumbles outside. He winces at the red light of the sky, coughing at the dust, his face covered in soot.

“Has the world ended?” Hansol asks. Then he takes stock of the four Horsemen and her mother, who has yet to retract her wings.

“This can’t be happening,” Pollution hisses.

“The world ending?” Hansol catches her gaze across the bodies between them.

She shrugs. She’s sort of unsure of what’s happening.

“It seems,” Death begins, turning towards her, “that this isn’t the Antichrist we were waiting for.”

“Her father’s an angel,” War growls. His eyes flame red, eyeing the angel in question. “I thought the Antichrist was brought to earth by Satan.”

Tin rounds on Xero, giving her a once over with narrowed eyes.

“Tin, she’s ours,” Xero insists.

“Then why was Satan here before me?”

“So, he did come,” the Antichrist muses. All the beings, including Hansol, can sense her presence easing back. “Don’t worry, Dad. You’re my dad regardless if Satan brought me here or not.”

“I wanted to play,” Famine whines. “This isn’t fun.”

Death holds up its scythe, stopping the three other Horsemen from attacking. If she could see Death’s eyes, she thinks Death would be sizing them all up. “I do not think we could win a battle today.”

Famine scowls, reaching for Hansol who is about to eat a Twix bar. She’d given everyone snacks before they’d left her place, because it was unlikely they would get to have a proper meal. Hansol holds out the bar towards Famine. “You can have it if you want. I don’t need this one. I still have snacks in the car.”

That makes her laugh, surprising the angels and demons. “Sol, that’s not—”

“Oh, sorry.” Hansol puts the Twix in Famine’s hand. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way or anything. Just have extra—Oop. Where did they go?”

Hansol bends over to pick up the Twix, now just a wrapper, from the ground. “And they littered too?” He shakes his head in dismay. When he straightens, Pollution had disappeared too. Only an oil puddle in her midst.

Hansol frowns. “You know,” he saunters through the crowd (of now just 2 Horsemen) to her side, “I really hate when you magical beings do that kinda stuff without warning me.”

Her insides are glowing at watching Hansol’s humanity ward off the Horsemen one by one, seemingly without knowing it. “Sorry, Sollie. I can at least promise I won’t do it anymore.”

Seokmin holds a hand out for a high five. “I can promise you that too.”

“Thank you.” Before Hansol’s even clapped Seokmin’s outstretched hand, War is gone too.

Not without a battle cry and a clatter of his sword.

Seokmin clasps Hansol’s hand and eases him behind them, as he and Jihoon step before the Antichrist, her parents just behind them.

Death looks over this spectacle, its gaze lingering on the human who willed his 3 companions out of existence (for now). "There will come a time for the Antichrist. Until then." With a small bow of its head, Death disappears in pillar of smoke.

Seokmin turns on his heel towards the group. “Now, that was not how I expected it to end.”

“What did you do inside, Sollie?” she asks, grabbing his hand and dragging him after her to the car.

“Unplugged one of the computers.”

“What was the boom?”

“I kicked over some other ones and a fire started inside.”

She blinks. “Nope.”

“I’m covered in soot.”

“No fire. Look.”

As the two friends bicker over the existence of the fire or not, Jihoon places a foot on the clattering sword of War before he picks it up and rests it on his shoulder.

“What do we do now?” Seokmin asks.

Jihoon catches her eye. “We go home. Our part of this is over.”

epilogue: part 16

#woozi #lee jihoon #woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #woozi fic #lee jihoon scenarios #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen #seventeen scenarios

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kosovoisnotserbia · 3 months

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Messed Up (OC!Vulcan/Kathryn Janeway/B'Elanna Torres/Seven of Nine/Chakotay/Tom Paris/Harry Kim/Tuvok) Chapter 6 🥶

warnings: 18+!!, angst, helf-sarm, l1ttlesp@ce, mentions of r@pe, mature language, m3ntal health,

THIS POST CONTAINS MATURE THEMES!! AS SUCH, IT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR THOSE UNDER AGE 18 !!

"It's okay, we'll get through this," B'Elanna told him. "We're no longer 'Mistress', we're 'Mommy'."

B'Elanna led Volir to her private quarters, where she planned to baby Volir.

Once there, Volir began sinking into little space, and began crying for Mama Janeway and B'Elanna.

"Mama!" he screamed. "Mama, I need you! I'm scared!"

"Shh," B'Elanna tried comforting him.

"MAMA!!"

Kathryn Janeway, hearing the cry, arrived in the quarters, immediately taking Volir into her arms.

"There, there, Mommy's got you. It's okay, I'm here."

"Mama," Volir clung to her. "Mommy, Mama, Mommy," he kept calling for his mommies. "I sorry, I so sorry, I bad boy," he sobbed.

"Oh, honey," Kathryn kissed him. "We know you are a good boy. You're not bad."

"Mama," he cried, "Mama, mama," he kept saying. "I made Mommy Lursa and Mommy B'Etor touch each other. I made them eat me, made them rape each other, made them fuck me," he said. "Mama, mama, mommy," he cried.

"Oh, baby, oh, baby, no," Kathryn held him, as he kept saying, "Mama," wishing to be forgiven, to be absolved of his sins.

"I'm so sorry I made you hurt," he sobbed.

"Mommy will help," Kathryn told him, as she held him.

"I'm so sorry," Volir continued apologizing. "I can't TAKE IT ANYMORE," he screamed.

"Mommy is here," Kathryn told him, rocking him.

"I HATE YOU ALL!! I HATE MY MOMMY AND DADDY! THEY DID THIS TO ME! THEY MADE ME BORN INTO HELL!!!"

"Shh," Kathryn rocked him, singing softly, "Hush, little baby, don't say a word, mommy's gonna buy you a mocking bird."

Volir slapped her, knocking her off of him.

"I DON'T WANT A MOCKING BIRD!! I WANT MY FUCKING MOMMY!!!"

"Okay, baby," Kathryn, holding her face, tried to comfort him.

Volir then began throwing up, having returned to adult space, but disgusted with himself, and what he had done.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed, spitting up.

"Shh," Kathryn rubbed his back, soothing him.

"Mama," Volir cried, returning to little space.

"Shh," she kissed him.

"I'm gonna," he said.

"It's okay," she told him.

"No, it's not," he said, and threw up again. "I bad boy, I no good boy," he started crying.

"Oh, no, you are a good boy," she told him.

"I not!"

"You are!"

"I not, I no good," he cried. "Why I never feel good on inside, if I good boy? I no like being bad boy," he cried.

"What are you feeling on the inside, sweetheart?"

"Pain," he told her.

"Is it the kind that can be healed by medicine?"

"No, Mama," he answered.

"What kind of pain is it?"

"My soul," he said. "Mama, will you and Mommy make it go away? Please, Mama, make my soul stop hurting," he cried.

"Volir, I love you," she said, kissing him. "I will do everything in my power to protect you and make you happy."

"My soul," he told her. "It hurts."

"I know," she told him, rocking him. "I know."

Volir then fell asleep in her arms.

"I want to be a good boy," he mumbled, before falling asleep, sucking on Janeway's breasts, B'Elanna rubbing his back, kissing him on the head, whispering, "I love you, my baby, my little one."

The next morning, Volir woke up, still sucking on Janeway's breast.

"Good morning, baby," she told him.

"Morning, Mama," he said.

"How is your soul this morning, baby?"

"No good, it bad," he answered.

"I wish I could take that away from you, honey."

"I know, Mama," he said.

"Volir, we are going to try and make this better. Here, how about you draw for us how you feel?"

"Okay, Mama," he answered, going over to a table with paper and crayons.

"Volir, can we look at what you are drawing?"

"NO!! IT NO FINISH!"

"Okay," Kathryn and B'Elanna backed off.

"Here, Mama," he came back, giving them the finished drawing.

B'Elanna and Janeway both gasped at the image, which showed a child's rendition of a man, who was burning in hell, and had been raped.

"Oh, baby," Kathryn held him. "Baby," she cried, as they saw that the man in the drawing was a child version of him. As B'Elanna examined the image more closely, she discovered something that shook her to her core: Volir had written, in Klingon, a suicide note.

"Oh, my gods," B'Elanna breathed.

"What is it?"

"This isn't just a drawing, it's a suicide note," B'Elanna told her. "Look, on the bottom," she pointed.

Janeway took the drawing and looked at the bottom. There, in Klingon, were the words, "I have done my duty, and now I want to be free. I have been nothing but worthless my entire life. I was a horrible mistake, a horrible sin. I have no reason to live, so I will not. It is better for everyone if I die. I am no longer needed. My parents have each other, and their new son, and the crew has each other. No one will miss me, so why should I stay?"

"Volir," Kathryn said, looking at him, crying, "Is this how you feel?"

"No," he said.

"Please, tell the truth," she told him.

"No, Mama," he said. "I want you to live forever, I don't want you to leave."

"Thank you, sweetheart," she told him.

"But, I'm glad that I'm going to die. Then I can be happy," he told her.

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yes," he said.

"Oh, my God," she cried.

"No, Mommy," he said, trying to comfort her.

"Volir," she hugged him, crying, "If you ever feel like this again, will you come to me or Mommy, and tell us, and let us know?"

"Okay, Mama."

Coming out of littlespace, Volir finally felt comfortable enough to show Janeway and B'Elanna his arms, which were covered in scars.

"My gods," B'Elanna exclaimed.

"Why, honey?" Janeway asked, touching them, making Volir flinch.

"I like pain," he said. "Mama," he then asked, "I have scars, and my heart and soul hurts. Ever since I was first punished, all the way back on Voyager, this has been the only way to release the pain and make it stop, even if for a little while. The pain of being punished, the pain of what I've done, the pain of living with this burden, all of it goes away, and I feel better. Please, Mommy, please, Mama, will you help me release my pain, make my soul and heart stop hurting? Please," he begged.

Janeway, realizing that this had all began as a result of the Holodeck punishment back on Voyager, began apologizing, and crying.

"Please, don't cry, Mama," he begged, holding her.

"Oh, my god, I did this," she cried.

"No, Mama," he held her. "You mustn't cry, you need to be strong for Mommy and me," he said.

"Oh," she said.

"Don't feel bad," he held her.

"It's my fault."

"No, Mama," he told her. "I acted out of line. I disrespected B'Elanna, and I didn't use my safe word when I should have. It was my fault, not yours. I have always felt that this is the right path. It is a part of me, and always has been. It was bound to happen sooner or later. You can't blame yourself, Mama. Don't, please, don't," he begged. "I love both of you, I want to be with you both for the rest of my life, and I want to raise your son. Please, don't cry, don't cry," he pleaded, hugging her, as B'Elanna joined in the embrace.

"I'll stop, for you, baby," Janeway said.

At this, Volir retrieved two small boxes from a nearby table, handing one to B'Elanna, and the other to Janeway.

"For us?"

"Open them."

"They're beautiful, baby," Kathryn told him.

"These are engagement rings," B'Elanna said.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with the two women who have made it worth living. Will you marry me?"

"Yes," B'Elanna said, putting the ring on.

"Yes," Janeway did the same.

"We'll always be a family, the three of us, me, Mama, and Mommy," Volir said, taking their hands, as they walked together.

"That's right," Kathryn agreed. "Forever."

"Yes," Volir agreed, and then asked, "So, when will the wedding be?"

"Let us not worry about that now," B'Elanna whispered, kissing Volir with fervent passion.

"Okay, Mommy," he agreed.

The three entered the bedroom, where B'Elanna sat Volir on her lap, and exposed her leaking breasts.

"Here, drink from me, my baby," she told him.

Volir leaned forward and began suckling.

"That's a good boy," B'Elanna told him, as he suckled.

Kathryn kissed Volir's neck, as he sucked.

"Oh," he moaned.

"That's a good boy," Kathryn told him.

He continued sucking.

"Oh," he moaned again. "Mama, Mommy, Mama," he said.

"Right here, baby," B'Elanna and Kathryn assured him.

"I can't breathe," he cried, coming up for air, before leaning forward, and suckling again. The milk was truly heavenly, as were B'Elanna's breasts. They were huge, and soft. The milk was rich, warm, and sweet. Volir had never tasted anything like it before, and couldn't get enough.

"Oh," he moaned, as he suckled. Eventually, the well ran dry, and the flow of milk stopped.

"There's more in the kitchen, but I think you should have a little something else, now," B'Elanna whispered.

"Like what, Mommy?"

Preferring to show rather than to tell, B'Elanna and Janeway both began to run their hands over Volir's chest and body, making him moan.

"Mommy, Mama," he said, as he felt pleasure for the first time in a long while.

"Mama and I are going to make you feel good, my darling," B'Elanna told him. "Our God deserves nothing less than perfection."

"Yes," Volir said, moaning, as he was massaged. "Oh," he moaned.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Do you like being worshipped?"

"I... I don't know," he said.

"Tell me, do you enjoy the touch of your mothers?"

"Yes," he answered.

#18+ only #star trek #star trek voyager #kathryn janeway #vulcan #b'elanna torres

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jojo-oc-simmer · 1 year

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Big Kid Math - Fugo x OC prologue

Summary: How Belladonna met Pannacotta.

((Drawing by @nevui-penim-miruvorrr))

Adrian Zepelli brought his little girl, Belladonna, to the small workplace party taking place at the Villa of his boss, Sergio. Belladonna was excited at first, but soon grew bored and ran off to explore the large property. As the 6 year old wandered around, she came across a boy her age sitting alone on a bench, scribbling away in a notebook.

"Hi there," Belladonna said tentatively, taking a seat beside him.

The boy looked up from his notebook. "Who are you?"

"I'm Belladonna," she replies “I'm here with my dad, Adrian. Who are you?"

The boy hesitated for a moment, then said, "I'm Pannacotta. Sergio's son."

Belladonna didn't know who Sergio was, but she was interested in the boy's notebook. "What are you working on?"

"I'm doing algebra," Pannacotta said, his voice soft and shy.

"Algebra?" Belladonna repeated, intrigued. "What's that?"

"It's like big kid math," Pannacotta explained.

Adrian had been watching Belladonna as she played with the other children at the party, but when he turned his attention away for just a moment, she was gone. He searched the area frantically, calling out her name, but there was no sign of her.

He felt a sense of panic rising in him. This was the kind of behavior he expected from his son, Luigi, not his daughter. That was why he had left Luigi at home and brought Belladonna to the party instead. He couldn't afford any missteps in front of his colleagues and their families. He had worked hard to build his reputation as a responsible and reliable employee, and he didn't want anything to ruin that.

As he continued to search, his mind raced with all the worst-case scenarios. What if she had been kidnapped? What if she had run off with some stranger? What if she had been hurt? He tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on finding her, but it was hard to do.

Finally, he saw her sitting on a bench with a boy he didn't recognize. He felt a wave of relief wash over him as he approached, but he was still worried. What had she been doing all this time? Had she been behaving herself?

“Bella!” he called out, running over to her. "Are you okay? I've been looking for you everywhere."

"I'm fine, Daddy," Belladonna said with a smile. "I just got a little bored and wanted to explore."

Adrian tried to keep his frustration in check. "You know you can't just run off like that, Belladonna. I was so worried."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Belladonna said, her smile fading. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Adrian took a deep breath and looked at the boy sitting beside her. "And who is this?"

"This is Pannacotta," Belladonna said. "He's really smart. He was teaching me algebra."

"Algebra, huh?" Adrian said, his interest piqued. "That's pretty advanced for your age." Adrian looked at Pannacotta, but the boy just looked down at his notebook and didn't say anything.

Sergio approached them, having overheard their conversation. "Pannacotta is quite the child prodigy," he said, sounding impressed. "And it seems like he's found a kindred spirit in your daughter, Mr. Zepelli."

Adrian felt a sense of relief that his daughter had made a good impression on his boss. "Yes, it looks like they had a great time together. Thank you for having us, Signor Fugo.”

Sergio nodded. "It was my pleasure. I'm glad your daughter was able to make a connection with my son. Maybe they'll be able to teach each other a thing or two."

Adrian smiled and put his arm around Belladonna. "I have a feeling they will," he said, looking down at her.

Belladonna giggles and hugs her father.

Adrian smiles and ruffles her hair.

#pannacotta fugo #Fugo #Fugo x OC #Pannacotta Fugo x OC #vento aureo #jojo's bizarre adventure #Part 5 #Golden Wind #pre-canon #Zeppeli #Zeppeli OC #JJBA #JJBA OC

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selinaaa175 · 4 months

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Reunited in Alabasta (OC x Portgas D. Ace)

This is a little short story from my one piece OC's cannon lore with Ace told from my OC's POV . I know some people don't like OC content as much so I'll probably upload a different version where I replace the names with y/n. Also the first time posting one of my short story fanfics so I apologize for grammar or spelling mistakes.

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Prologue

Ace and I have been traversing islands for quite some time now tracking down a certain someone with what little bits of information we can find. We decide to make a pitstop in Alabasta and restock on supplies. While walking through the crowded outdoor shops of Alabasta I end up losing Ace to the flow of the crowd. I wander around retracing steps.

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Where could this idiot be? I turned around to buy some souvenirs for the road and he just disappeared. It shouldn’t even be hard to spot a half naked, bumbling, freckled man who wears a bright orange hat. I ran around the markets of the town in search of him but the area is just too much land to cover. I start to get hungry myself and look for a bite to eat. I find the closest restaurant to me and start making my way up. On the walk there I see long stretchy arms fling past me. Then I hear the scream of a young boy coming closer with each second. FOOD! He screams as he flies by into the restaurant doors. It was only a glimpse but I saw his straw hat fly by on his head.

I rushed into the restaurant to find multiple holes in the walls of multiple buildings. And low and behold Luffy stands at the counter stuffing his face. I smirk at the sudden run in with my childhood friend. “Still the same as ever huh?” I called out. Then I see Ace appear from the ruble angry yet pleasantly surprised at the sight of his kid brother. I start walking towards them but Ace is face planted into the ground below by a navy vice admiral. I stand ready for a fight with my hands on my rapier. With a closer look I recognize that it’s vice admiral Smoker. The two exchange words and suddenly they’re running out the door. Ace follows in quick pursuit and grabs my hand in the process.

Luffy evades the vice admiral's attacks of smoke and me and Ace follow closely behind. A crowd of marines begin to grow within the chase causing an uproar in the city. Me and Ace get lost in the crowd. I look towards Ace, his hand still interlocked with mine. “Always having to look after your kid brother huh?” I laugh. He smiles, “Like always” he says. We continue on and turn the corner to see the strawhat pirates running from Smoker and his pack of marines. Without question I grab Ace’s wrist and sprout wings to fly us up in front of them. We stand in defense against them. “Ace!” Luffy beams with excitement. I look back and throw em a cheeky smile. Ace quickly turns to flames ready to attack and I draw my rapier.

“You guys head back to your ship we’ll handle this” Ace states with a grin. Ace throws the first punch which is combated with a fist of smoke. The smoke and flames grow and grow until it has taken up the sky and explodes with a blast of both elements. I take on the group of marines and swordswomen. Jumping, dodging, changing size while blocking all I do while launching attacks of my own. When the smoke and flames cover me from the bunch I run out to the other side where I find Ace waiting for me.

We run together, like always, on the roofs of houses and find Luffy in the alley by himself carrying a barrel. Ace jumps down first to greet him and I follow. “What a waste, I gave you time to run away and you still get lost.” Ace jokingly complains as he jumps. “Oh Ace! And….” He stops with an unsure voice. He looks at me confused. It’s been about 9 years since I’ve seen Luffy but he looks about the same as ever, But me? You could not say the same about me. 6 harsh years in the navy really changes people but since then I’ve been living my best life with Ace as a pirate. “Yep, same little girl who ran around the village with you.” I said with a smile. It’s almost as if a star flies by in his eyes when I confirm his suspicions. He extends his rubbery arms around my body in a heartbeat and pulls me in. With cheerful laughter he screams, “Sonya! I-I didn’t know If I’d see you again!” His voice is a mixture of relief, excitement, and uneasiness. Of course it’s to be expected, since I was dragged away assuring them I wouldn’t bother them anymore. I openly accept his embrace and wrap my hands around his shoulders. Ace comes up behind us placing a hand on Luffy's head he chuckles, “Hey, don’t forget about me.” Me and Luffy's arms detangle and the pair of brothers continue on in the usual antics. They share a drink of water and arm wrestle on a barrel while Luffy goes on about his crew. “And we have a cook too! He makes really good food!” Luffy passionately boasts about his crew. They must be as great as he says to go along with him this long. The conversation shifts to life back in Windmill village where we spent our early childhood together. “Remember when you snuck into old man’s watermelon patch and ate them all !” Luffy states as they struggle in a match of arm strength. “What, that was you!”

“And then the old man got mad at you so you were shooting out the seeds like a gatling gun!”

“That was you too! I was on the side watching!”

I watch the duo bicker lightheartedly like true siblings and giggle at them and the memories of before. The barrel breaks under pressure under them and the match between strength was never really settled. “You never change, Luffy.” Ace grins.

~~~They fight Baroque works millions, kinda boring so I skipped until I find how to write it better~~~

Ace and I flow towards the straw hats in the Strider, a ship built by Ace and Deuce and powered by Ace’s flames. I hold onto Ace with my arms around his neck resting on his broad shoulders. I let the wind blow through my wings allowing me to glide through air while floating just above the Strider. We reach their ship and stop right next to them. “But I bet now I could kick his butt!” Luffy’s voice rings out from above. I let go of Ace and he jumps up to greet his brother by pushing him down as he lands. I follow up with a pat on the head while I hover above him. “Who’s kicking whose butt now!?” Ace yells as he plants his landing. Luffy’s crew stares at us with curiosity. “Oh Ace and Sonya! This is my crew I was telling you about!”

“Oh, well nice to meet you and thanks for taking care of my kid brother. I know he’s a handful.” Ace says.

“Oh no, not at all.” They say in unison while bowing.

“Come on be honest, this is Luffy we’re talking about, isn't he a bit too much to handle at times?”

“I definitely know how spontaneous He could be at times.” I remark

“Not at all.” again in unison.

“Your good people.” Ace says with a quirk of a grin.

“Well settle down and relax, I’m sure you guys have lots of catching up to do. I’ll make tea, and extra special for the lovely lady here.” Sanji says with a smile directed towards me.

“Oh no need too.” This time me and Ace say in unison with Ace feeling slightly provoked by the comment on me, turning down his offer. Luffy’s crew comments on how polite Ace was and how the two could never be related. Some of them even comment on me and how kind I was. As we talk, ships begin to surround us from afar. Upon closer look I can see the name Baroque Works plastered on each ship. “Ah, Ace, I think we should handle this.” I say beside him eyeing the ships. Ace lets out an umph of agreement and we’re off in the Strider once more.

We close in and Ace pushes off the Strider pushing it under water below the ships. I let go of Ace and fly towards one half of the ships while Ace handles the other. I slice through the ships with ease as I fly through cutting them up into bits. I throw myself up into the air to free fall as I watch my work unfold. When the ships start to fall I turn to my left to see the ships which Ace obliterated with his flames. I watch as his body reflects the flames in front of him. It defines his muscles so nicely it makes me feel so grateful that he’s my husband. I zip right back to the Strider and land next to him. I place my hands gently on his face and give him a peck on his cheek. The air around us turns slightly hotter and pink dusts his cheeks. “What was that for?” He says with a sly grin. He grabs my hand and pushes me closer to him and begins the path back to the strawhats.

When we get back the whole crew is in awe at how easily we managed back there. “Ya know, I do love myself a pretty and strong woman like you.” Sanji says in a flirtatious tone. I furrow my brows at the sudden display of flirtiness. I smile and open my mouth to talk,”I appreciate-”

“Sorry, she’s already taken,” Ace says in an annoyed tone and smiles competitively at him. Ace interlocks hands with me and pulls me in close by the waist. The quick display of PDA makes me blush slightly and the fact that Ace said that like I’m his makes me blush even more. “By me, of course.” He states with a bright smile and holds up our hands revealing our tattoos and rings. Each other’s ring finger is marked with the other’s initial incase we were ever to lose our rings or not be able to wear them.

Sanji is taken aback by this and turns red with embarrassment. Everyone else in the crew gasps or screams in shock. A collective EHHH?! Is heard throughout the boat when they see our hands. Immediately Sanji begins to apologize for hitting on a married woman. But the person most surprised is Luffy. His voice is the loudest between the group's collective gasps. “Really!?” Luffy screams out. I lightly laugh and reply, “Yep! Guess I'm your sister-in-law now!” Ace snickers from behind me and pushes his body against the back of mine slipping his arms under my arms and around my waist. He rests his head on my shoulder and says, “Tied the knot on this pretty little thing a couple months ago, so I guess you could say we’re newly weds?” Luffy, not believing that his older brother and childhood friend got married without him having the slightest bit of knowledge, is stuck in shock. I smile and walk towards Luffy while guiding Ace to follow. I sit down next to him and say, “We sure do have a lot to catch up on huh? And Sanji, I will take you up on that offer, some tea would be lovely.” Ace sits down next to me and heartily laughs as he pokes fun at Luffy and we continue with our catching up as the day goes on.

#ace one piece #one piece #portgas d. ace #oc #anime #oc x character #portgas d ace x oc #fanfic #short story #oneshot #straw hat luffy #alabasta #one piece anime

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postapocalyptic-cryptic · 1 year

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Hello Mikey. I have prömpts for you. Dratchcyon with your choice of 4 or 6 in the scenarios section. <3.

Please take this humble offering I hope I have done your boy justice. For those of you who don't know, Halcyon is Rails's oc and also the baby boy of my heart.

6. Holding the other while they cry

They all have nightmares. Maybe four out of ten nights of the week, one of them wakes the other two up with one. Considering the lives they’ve led, it would probably be strange if they didn’t. It’s typical. They’re used to it. That doesn’t make it any easier to watch.

“Haly, Haly, come on, wake up.” Drift’s propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over Halcyon with his optics shining bright blue in the dark room. He’s talking softly, smoothing a hand over Halcyon’s trembling wing. “Come on, starlight, come on back.”

Ratchet pings the lights up to quarter-brightness and shifts closer to Halcyon’s other side, tucking himself back under his wing. Halcyon’s lying on his front, hands spasming against the berth and tear-stained face screwed up in pain.

With a few more soft words and touches from Drift, Halcyon’s optics come online. His plating flares with a clatter, and his whole frame stiffens. Ratchet tenses, too, ready to react should Halcyon get violent. It’s happened before, and neither he nor Drift is strong enough to safely intervene.

He needn’t have worried. Between one sparkbeat and the next, all the tension drops out of Halcyon’s frame and he chokes out a quiet sob. He draws his wings in and rolls onto his side, curling up and covering his face with his hands.

“Hey, Haly,” Drift says. He adjusts to Halcyon’s new position and keeps petting his wing, bolder with his touches than Ratchet dares be when Halcyon’s like this. “It was just a nightmare. Everything’s alright.”

Halcyon shudders and another staticky sob gets muffled into his hands. Ratchet presses closer to Haly’s back, carefully draping an arm over Halcyon’s side and apologizing when he startles. “Just me,” Ratchet says, perhaps belatedly.

Halcyon says something, but it’s lost to his hands and tears. “What was that?” Drift asks.

Halcyon shudders again and clamps his plating down tight, drawing his wings in even further. Ratchet follows him, staying close with his forehead pressed to the back of Halcyon’s helm, and this time he can hear when Halcyon pulls his hands away from his face and cries, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, love,” Ratchet sighs. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was just a nightmare.”

Halcyon shakes his head frantically, twitching his wing away from Drift’s hand. “No, I mean. I mean, I.” Another sob. “I’m sorry for all of it. Everything.” On Halcyon’s other side, Ratchet hears Drift take a harsh invent. “‘M so sorry.”

“Halcyon,” Drift says, firm and sure. Ratchet will let him take point on this. There’s an understanding between Drift and Halcyon, a shared experience with this sort of thing that Ratchet just doesn’t have. He’ll stay here, guarding Halcyon’s back. “It was just a nightmare,” Drift continues. “You didn’t hurt us. You didn’t hurt anyone. You’re right here and right now and everything’s fine.”

Halcyon keens. “I did. I hurt so many people, Drift. You know that.”

“Not just now you didn’t. Sure, in the past, but that’s in the past. There’s absolutely nothing you can do about that. Just now, whatever you saw, it was just a dream. You’re alright.” Halcyon shakes his head again. “Yes,” Drift insists. Then, softer, “Do you want a hug?”

Halcyon’s quiet for a moment, totally still in Ratchet’s arms. Then, broken, quiet, “Please.”

“Alright.”

Halcyon’s half again their height, much too large to be held like he holds them, or even like Drift and Ratchet hold each other. They’ve found workarounds. Tonight, with a little urging from Ratchet, Halcyon sits up against the headboard and lets Drift climb into his lap. His arms come up around Drift’s waist almost immediately, and he leans into the hug Drift gives him, face buried in his shoulder and trembling wings coming up to wrap around them. One wing comes up to cradle Ratchet, pulling him close to Halcyon’s side where he can rest his chin on Halcyon’s shoulder and cover his hands with Ratchet’s own where they sit at the small of Drift’s back. It takes them a moment to fit kibble together and settle comfortably. Ratchet hooks his ankle over Halcyon’s shin. Drift sighs happily. Then, wings wrapped around them all like a shield, face hidden, Halcyon begins to cry in earnest, and they all hang on.

#ask tag #suborbitalrailgun #my fic #halcyon #drift #ratchet #other people's ocs #tf #dratchcyon

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shuetan · 1 year

Text

10. Hours.

The MOST I have ever spent on a drawing before this was maximum 6 hours. What the hell.

Meet Hannah, the siren. My new welcome home oc.

Backstory

Her first appearance was in the middle of the series. The episode consisted of Wally giving her a tour, and Barnaby proceeding to get jealous that Wally seemed to have a new friend.

Hannah could not detect jealously as she's never felt this emotion from anyone else before, so she assumes he's just sus of her and continues to hang out with Wally to show Barb that she's cool, but this backfires.

The episode ends with Hannah clearing the air and Wally confirming that Barb could never be replaced. (Kinda like those episodes in sesame street to teach kids that your friends may have other friends, and that's okay)

Fun facts:

- Literal empath, can read emotions and deescalate stressful situations. (Teaches kids how to look out for signs of distress, etc)

-When she whistles, she summons someone's truest desire at the moment. Could be Barb wanting a hot dog with very specific items, and she could get it, but she doesn't do this unless there's a reason. (Teaches kids that they can't get everything they want and that they can have fun with what they already have.)

-She was cancelled from future appearances after parents complained that she was a Siren, and those ofc have negative connotations. They also thought she was too much of a people pleaser to be healthy to show to kids, so she was canned :(

My little unofficial canon is that she does fall for Wally after she tries to summon his truest desire, and when nothing appears she gets confused, but he just smiles and says "I already have you here. Isn't that enough, neighbour?"

She's literally like: agdhendb🥺🥺😭🥹

↑

It's the first time anyone's ever really liked her for her and not just for her abilities lol

She's just so surprised to hear that. He meant it platonically, but it's like a friends to lovers thing I got goin in my head

Design Details

The frills on her legs are meant to look like a mermaid tail when she puts them together

Her shirt/tutu is held up by seaweed and clam clampers, like overalls

The tailcoat thing and sleeve frills are meant to look like fins, along with the transparent cloth covering her arms

She got a starfish for aesthetics lol

Her hair is also held up by clamshell clamps.

She has a shell necklace and some pearls

Closing notes

These colours may change in the future, but I'm happy with how she turned out in the end. I love designing characters, and when it came to designing a muppet, I just thought, "the design can be as beautiful and complex as I want it to be". Muppets are so diverse when it comes to design, and I just wanted to make something I'm happy with, which I achieved.

I'm so proud to be apart of this fandom.

More info about this oc can be found on my Instagram @/shuwuetan

Thank you @partycoffin for creating the most inspiring fandom I've ever been in. I mean it with all the sincerity of my heart.

I've never felt as free to draw what I want than I do now.

#welcome home fanart #welcome home #welcomeh #welcome home art #welcome home tag #welcome home oc #welcome home original character #partycoffin

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honking-up-a-storm · 10 months

Text

6/29/23

Thursday, my usual slow day, but who knows, it could prove me wrong. The air is still sticky and hot, only the occasional breeze cuts though to give me some relief from the sensation of skin sticking to skin. I'm awaiting the rain to come again. I crave to hear the loud rolling rumbles of thunder and feel the heavy and hard downpour of rain like the storm from last night. I don't like being called miss. Not only does it feel improper since everyone who says it to me is older than me, but obviously I'm not a miss. Though tragically I still present as one to the public. I'll get it soon enough, then I won't have to feel like this anymore. Having regulars here feels odd, it's nice to know what to expect with people, but they're here because they're in pain. They shouldn't have to be here at least once a week. Old people shouldn't have to wait over an hour out here for transport. As much as I'm happy here I can't deny that underlying sadness of the place exists. Yesterday security told me someone tried to kill themselves, after I found out they were autistic my heart broke because I knew that no one around them was gonna do anything to make the situation better. Hell, the way security was talking about it pissed me the fuck off, each word running with an underlying laugh. They wanted him to run or flip out so they could deal with the situation violently. Thank God that didn't happen and they settled things without laying a hand on the guy, but I'm fucking furious about these power-tripping assholes. I mean christ this dude was trying to advertise the security job/being a cop as "badass" because you get to hurt people, how fucking nice /s. So fucking badass to just be constantly waiting for the moment to pounce. I like how I'm doing this to get an unfiltered continuous inner monologue but I'm not catching everything, like when I write there is a secondary flow of thought going in a completely different topic. It's very strange, oh look at that I'm close to the end of the book, yellow shirt, the clouds look so fluffy, shoes scuffing on the pavement, the AC unit is humming and crackling, automatic door closed, car comes up the hill, birds chirping, car turn, another car, a single strand of hair is bouncing in my face, the guy with the wheelchair on the back of the van is here, keys jingling, my arm is sore on the armrest, tan vest, more clouds, open door, here he comes, zipping down sidewalk, hear car, another red, blocked entrance, bed for assisting with wheelchairs, tink tink, I want this guy to move, I want to sit down, I want something to do, I need to do something other than just stand here, my hand cramps, why does my handwriting suck so much? Dark cloud, more breeze, rain please, rain on me, someone give me something to do, can't draw like this, this table sucks, use a bigger sketchbook for thesis, it doesn't have to be for thesis, darker sky, person, trunk slam, back from the phone, sea breeze, darker, where's the rain? I don't feel sticky anymore, why do my thoughts stop racing when I'm on my phone? Smells like summer, shuffle, $5 nice, thoughts slow with proper task, book, I wanna read my book, I wanna work on my OCs, Ilphlin, I need to bring her back I love her so much. Holy shit only 4 pages left in the book, I haven't even gotten the tutorial book in the mail yet lol, I should have switched to lined paper.

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aro-comics · 3 years

Text

Squishes Vs Crushes (Part 3)

Squishes Vs. Crushes, Part 3/4 - The part on squishes!! I know a lot of you have been confused about what a squish actually is, and I hope that this can help 💚✨ As you've probably noticed, I've chosen to draw my ocs again. I'm so sorry that I keep dropping them in without context (although they are significant, I'll explain in the comments), but I ... couldn't bring myself to draw the person who I really felt that way for, in the words that I wrote. It’s something I'm still working through I guess. It’s hard to realize someone you used to think would follow for the rest of your life ... isn’t the right fit for you, that way. I've been an open book so far with this account, but I'm not ready to share this yet. I hope that I've still managed to convey the feeling regardless 💚 About slide 5 - I've had relatively close relationships with my squishes, which may not be helpful if you're not close with yours. The most important thing I believe describes a squish is the desire to be close to someone in a platonic way (however you define it for yourself), but wanting emotional intimacy commonly seen with romance. This isn't an end-all, be-all description, but it's how I percieve it/how I've seen it generally described. Feel free to comment if you've had a different experience! As always, I'd love to know what y'all think 💚💚💚

[Image Description:

Title slide: Celia excitedly raises her arms, and says “next up, we have-”

(Title) “The Squish, AKA platonic attraction”. In the corner is a note written: “May be commonly confused with, but is not actually a crush/romantic attraction”

Slide 2: Another sketch slide. Celia stands holding her hand to her chest, which now glows with a warm light orange.

“In terms of physical sensation, it’s a lot more gentle of a warmth that fills your chest. There are definitely no”butterflies” or any feelings in your stomach.”

Slide 3: “Instead of wanting to do traditionally romantic activities, you’ll want to just … hang out with them, a lot.”

A drawing of Celia, playing video games with one of her former squishes. She says “Eat dust!” while he retorts “Didn’t you say you were good at this?”

(note from author: this never actually happened. I wish it did, though.)

“Eat pizza, get into ridiculous shenanigans together. Like the “best friend” kind of stuff.”

Slide 4: “It fills you all over with a sense of calm and peace - like a warm field on a sunny day.”

A younger Celia, sitting in a sunny schoolyard field filled with dandelions. Her former childhood friend/squish, a boy with short orange hair, is sitting with her.

Slide 5: A pure text slide. “It’s something much deeper, and more grounded.” An asterisk is drawn, indicating to the reader to check the description later.

Slide 6: “They make you feel safe, and you want to stay with them - ”

A drawing of two of Celia’s OCs (who are named Collin and Lucian). The taller boy, a biracial black man with curly brown hair pulled into a ponytail and warm brown eyes grins as his friend, a shorter east asian boy with tan skin, medium length spiky dark hair and green eyes leans next to him. They appear to be talking.

Slide 7: “ - By their side -”

The two characters are now walking on what appears to be an ethereal lake. It is mirror like, and it reflects the rich blue and magenta sky onto the its surface.

Slide 8: “- For a long, long time.”

The two walk into the distance, and the clouds and sky twinkle above them.

Slide 9: Celia speaks to the viewer, and says “It’s a lot more underwhelming than a crush, and you won’t have that same obsessive feeling.

Slide 10: Celia continues: “But, at the same time, I would say it’s a lot more meaningful of a feeling, and I’m more motivated to maintain a bond with that person.”]

#RegularComic #SquishesVsCrushes

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chipper-asks · 3 years

Note

Any tips on how to grow your own blog by chance?

Aah man I've written a response to this kind of question many times but I always delete it because I'm afraid of coming off as self centered or arrogant, but I definitely have some tips on what works and doesn't work (on tumblr.)

I will say that I never believed I would get to the "Big Fandom Artist" stage. I've seen people drop my name in conversations or descriptions and just assume other people know who I am and that's still incredibly wild to me. I never really pushed to get a big blog it really just happened.

But! I do have rules and personal guidelines that might help if you are thinking of actively building your blog!

1: Keep personal information and vent posts to a minimum

It should go without saying that its not a good thing for your personal information to be on the internet. Once its out there its near impossible to erase. This is for your own safety.

Vent posts give out more information than you might think, but also some people who are following you may be going through difficult times themselves. I go on the internet to get away from my stressors and problems and i've specifically catered my dashboard to reflect my desires. I have no doubt others are the same.

I've unfollowed mutuals because they vented too frequently. I enjoyed what they made! But it stressed me out to read their vent posts because I couldn't help. I realized it was taking a toll on my mental health and I made the tough decision to unfollow.

It is very tempting to vagueblog because its nice getting out all the angry feelings, but a blog with thousands of people following it is not the place to do it.

2: Shitpost vs Quality Foley

I could go into a massive essay on this alone (ive even written out an outline already) but i'll keep it as brief as I can.

Throughout my time on Tumblr I’ve seen a number of posts of artists complaining about the lack of notes on their serious work compared to the abundance of notes on their shitposts.

This is because Tumblr IS a place of shitposts. It's like squeezing a clown nose and expecting it not to honk.

However! It's more complicated than that and i've broken it up into four parts organized by importance.

A. Relevance/Meta: Is it something that people are already familiar with? Is it something that's currently going on?

People want to enjoy things they're already familiar with. For example, people getting into Hollow Knight are more likely to follow a blog that posts HK content regularly over a HK blog that posted a picture of Grimm once and then is full of original content. It's not that people don't like your original stuff, its just not what they're looking for.

If you like striking while the iron is hot, meta jokes are the way to go. Making references to games like Among Us during the height of its popularity for example would get you lots of notes.

B. Hilarity

Is it funny? Does it subvert expectations?

Shitposts will always be more popular than a well drawn post. People like to laugh and share things that laugh. A cool, well drawn post is more often than not met with a "hm, cool. scrolls down."

This is a polished comic I made 10 months ago. I'm very proud of it and i'm pleased with the amount of attention it got. It took me 2 days to finish.

This is a shitpost I made 3 years ago that I still haven't been able to top. It took me 30 minutes to make.

That's not to say a well drawn post can get popular! It's just that people enjoy a good laugh over something shiny. This is a factor of knowing your audience. Some things land better than others and you'll be better off if you just roll with what you get.

I will say tho I appreciate the people who reblog my oc posts 200x more than people who reblog my shitposts and fanart. Those are quality followers and you must cherish them.

C. Appeal

Is it cute? Is it fluffy? Is the design easy to understand? Does it make people emotional? Is it angsty? Is it relatable?

People like cute shit. People like things that make them hurt (albeit not too much). People like things that they can see themselves in.

D. Skill

There is some merit in being good at what you do. People do like funny things more than shiny things, but shiny things are cool too.

If you post things that are funny? You're normal horoscopes.

If you post things that are well drawn? (its really telling that I can't think of someone right off the top of my head)

If you post things that are funny AND well drawn? Well then you're iguanamouth

3: Know your boundaries.

There's a difference between being understanding/tagging things correctly and catering to people who want you to be someone else.

I know that many people get upset with others who gender the vessels in Hollow Knight. While it doesn't bother me, I can recognize the misgendering of vessels as a source of dysphoria and I tag accordingly.

If someone comes into my inbox and tells me to stop drawing a character because they're "problematic," I'm just going to block them and go about my day.

4: This is your blog, its your rules.

I'm apologetically myself on my blog. I post what I want and what inspires me. The reason why I have so many AUs is because its my blog and I like AUs. If a large portion of the fandom doesn't like my AUs, its their loss, I make great AUs.

In fact, its just a good mindset in general to have. If some people don't like what you make, its not your problem. It makes you happy and it makes hundreds of others happy then continue to do what you do. It's impossible to have a large following and not have someone who dislikes you purely out of spite.

Make stuff for yourself, not because you want numbers.

5: Don't feed the trolls.

If someone sends you hate, take a picture of it, share it with your friends, laugh, block the person, delete message, move on with your life.

It's really fun to feed the trolls, but feeding trolls attracts more trolls and soon its not fun anymore. Just laugh when you get your first anon hate, maybe frame it in your room, and don't even acknowledge them with a "fuck you."

6: Recognize your position.

This is more advice for when you do get a big blog. You get to a point when you realize you have a portion of your audience who value much more than a regular human being and are willing to take up arms for you.

Do. Not. Weaponize. Your audience.

It's incredibly shitty and can ruin peoples lives.

7: Post Frequency/Schedule

Now this is one I can't do. It's normal for me to become incredibly active for 2 weeks and then end up posting nothing for a month. I don't have the patience to build up a queue of new things.

However! If you have more discipline than me, posting daily or twice a week builds up anticipation for your next post. You're dependable and people have the chance to look forward to seeing something from you on their dash on Friday.

Thats all I can think of so far.

There's no TL;DR you'll miss my important advice within these tips.

#nofandom #long post

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hb-writes · 3 years

Text

The Horsewoman

Summary: 1913 in the Little Lady Blinder universe. Shelby sister, Clara, and her twin are ready to start school, but Clara is a bit hesitant. Thankfully, her older brother knows how to negotiate.

Inspired by this request: Could you write about the twins first day at school? Like Clara is scared but Finn is excited. And because they didn’t have much money they’ve saved for a while to get them new clothes just for school and Tommy helps them get ready and drops them off for there first day x

Featuring: Tommy Shelby, Finn Shelby, Polly Gray, and Clara Shelby (OC)

Tommy was awake and had been for some time now, going back and forth between reading and watching his little sister rest. Her features had finally smoothed out, her face relaxed in a way that only came with a lack of consciousness, the small wrinkle of worry taking up seemingly permanent residence on her forehead cleared away now as slow, easy breaths fell from her mouth.

Clara had climbed into his bed a little before sundown the evening before, burrowing herself in the blankets after claiming an upset stomach and abstaining from dinner. She passed more than half the night awake, her restless body nestled up beside her brother while he too failed to get much by the way of sleep, kept alert by the five-year-old's nervous energy.

Clara's agitation about starting school wasn't something quite congruous with the child she'd come to be understood as. She loved books and learning and was obviously bright. She commonly forced her twin into playing at schoolhouse, so the family was rightfully perplexed. Tommy wasn't so surprised by it though. He knew there was something they were all missing, something about school Clara was fixating on, focusing all her energies on some troubling thought she hadn't worked up the nerve to discuss.

The shift happened when they told her the twins would be enrolled in the next coming school year. If he didn't know the girl better, he'd have called her behavior a sudden disinterest in the idea of school and learning, but Tommy knew she had not spared a thought to anything else during the last few weeks of summer.

Tommy glanced up at a light rapping on the door, Finn pushing it open before he could offer a response. The boy was in his new school outfit, quite a sight considering he spent most of his days covered in a layer of dirt and dust after playing out on the lane.

"She's still asleep?" Finn's words came out as a half-whisper as he noted the lump of blankets on the far side of his brother's bed.

Tommy nodded, glancing down at Clara for a second before looking back to his little brother, a mess of laces tucked into the side of his boot. Tommy beckoned him forward, patting the chair sat beside his bed. Finn would need to learn to tie them for himself soon, though Tommy supposed with the twins being in the same class, he'd get by alright with his sister doing any needed midday shoe tying.

"Aunt Polly says if Clara doesn't come down now she won't get any breakfast." Finn still attempted a whisper, carefully annunciating Polly's message as he lifted his feet to rest on Tommy's lap to deal with the laces.

Tommy looked to his sister again, certain Finn's attempts at whispering would have woken her by now. Clara’s deep breaths had ceased and she laid beside him completely still, her body gripped in an unnerving rigidity. He could see the effort she put into holding her eyes shut, the small wrinkle firmly back in place between her furrowed brows.

"Is she still sick?" Finn asked when Tommy lowered Finn's feet.

As Finn leaned over his brother to get a better look at his sister, Tommy thought Finn could be right. Clara might be making herself sick over the whole thing, turning over some small misunderstanding in her mind.

"Worried sick, maybe," Tommy answered.

Clara remained still against him though a muscle in her cheek twitched at his words. Tommy snorted lightly before turning back to Finn.

"What's she worried about? It's just school. Everyone from the lane will be there."

Clara shifted under the blankets, moving them up and over her shoulder as she burrowed further still into Tommy's side. He sighed and shook her shoulder. "Alright there, Clara girl. Time to get up."

When she ignored the prompting, Finn reached over Tommy, his pointer finger extended with every intention of pushing one of his sister's eyes open to help her along, but Tommy nudged Finn's pudgy hand away before he could make contact.

"C'mon, Clara. I know you're awake."

Clara shook her head and Tommy scoffed, pulling her onto his lap as he leaned against the wall.

"We can't have you going to school hungry," Tommy said.

"Aunt Polly made a special breakfast."

"See that? Finn says you've got a special breakfast waiting."

"Not hungry," Clara mumbled.

Tommy knew she had to be hungry after missing dinner, but rather than showing any desire to head down the stairs, Clara settled in his lap, pulling the blankets up to cover herself once again and hiding against his chest. Tommy tried again to pull her out of hiding with a different line of discussion.

"Doesn't Finn look nice in his new outfit?"

Clara glanced at her twin and nodded. She had an outfit of her own to get into, something Ada helped pick out, an outfit Clara showed little interest in though it was a red dress she’d usually be eager to get into. Tommy had a feeling it had less to do with preferences and more to do with whatever Clara was worrying on about school.

"Finn, why don't you run and tell Aunt Polly Clara will be right down, eh?"

Clara snuggled in again as Finn closed the door.

"I don't wanna go."

"Sure you do," Tommy answered, "You've got your new dress and you'll be with Finn and –"

"I wanna stay with you."

"What about Finn?"

"Finn has friends."

"Then you have friends too," Tommy answered.

Clara shook her head and Tommy amended his words. "Then you have your brother, and you'll make friends."

Clara released her grip on Tommy intending to slip back into her spot between him and the wall but Tommy caught her and towed her back into his lap.

Clara was a kind child, pleasant and clever, but she also kept to herself and her family more often than not. She didn't relish spending her days out on the lane with the other kids and when booted out of the house for some air, she'd more often than not spend that time on the stoop drawing or reading or practicing her writing. Rather than chase a ball about or get up to the mischief of the day, she liked to follow her siblings and aunt around. She liked to help with Martha and John's babies. She liked to go to the yard and be with the horses. She didn't have a hoard of friends from the lane like Finn did.

"You've got to go to school. And before you go, you've got to eat a good breakfast, and Ada will—"

"But I don’t want to," Clara answered, settling against his chest.

"Well, we all have to do things we don't want to, eh?"

Clara shook her head. "You get to do what you want."

Tommy considered how it must have looked that way to the five-year-old. It must've looked like everyone other than her and Finn had free rein to do as they pleased because they all came and went through the doors of no. 6 Watery Lane as such. Tommy passed his days interchangeably between the shop and the horses, stopping in to play with the twins at seemingly random intervals, devoting his evenings to Greta Jurossi.

"Well, that's 'cause I already finished school."

Clara groaned, sensing the impending defeat, and with Tommy's hands reaching for her sides, she knew he was about to peel her away so she gripped him a bit tighter.

"Alright, how about this? I'll make you a deal. You go to school for one…" Tommy smiled at his sister's pout before continuing. "You give me one day and if you hate it, you never have to go again."

Clara lifted her head. "Never?"

Tommy nodded. It was a lie because she'd need some type of education lest they wanted the parish to descend upon them for lack of attendance, but Tommy wasn't concerned his sister would actually take him up on the offer.

"If you've had the most terrible day and you never want to go back or learn another thing ever again, you can come help me and Curly with the horses for the rest of your life. You’ll be the third-best horseman in England."

"Horsewoman," Clara mumbled.

"What?"

"I'll be a horsewoman."

"Of course," Tommy said. "The very best horsewoman in all of England, then, but you have to try school first."

Tommy's offer allowed him to lift Clara from the bed with minimal argument though she kept her arms latched around his neck as he carried her down the stairs to settle at the table.

Polly rolled her eyes at the spectacle and tried to usher her niece off Tommy's lap, but Clara stayed put, ignoring her aunt's protests as she took a piece of toast from the plate Polly set before them. It was clearly intended for Tommy, another smaller portion placed one spot over.

"You won't be able to bring your brother with you to school, so you may as well get used to sitting in your own seat now."

Tommy leaned forward to pull the second plate closer and retrieved a piece of toast for himself while Clara tucked into his eggs. "She's not hurting any—"

"Aunt Polly, you're wrong. I am bringing my brother to school," Clara answered, mouth full of food as she pointed at Finn. Polly rolled her eyes before the girl continued. "And Tommy says I only have to go to school for just one day and then I get to be a horsewoman with him and Curly forever."

Tommy coughed on a bit of toast as she said it. He really shouldn't have been surprised, should have expected his sister to air the remark at the first opportunity. She seemed to take a great satisfaction in telling the world all the things her big brother told her he could be, all the things he promised to teach her.

Polly scowled at her nephew, shaking her head. "Well, that's just wonderful, Thomas. Fill her mind with—"

"It's only if she doesn't like it, Pol."

"Only if she doesn't—" Polly scoffed, tossing her hands up before busying herself with the dirty dishes on the table, muttering as she went. "Makes me wonder who really runs this family… the adults or a pair of spoiled five-year-olds?"

Tommy took a breath, meeting each of the twins' eyes in turn as Polly took the dirty dishes to the kitchen. They giggled as Clara continued munching on her toast, the laughter stopping abruptly when Polly stepped back into the room.

"Well, regardless of any deals you've made with your brother, you're due to school this morning. So be off and up the stairs if you're finished. Ada will help you get dressed."

"Ada's still in bed," Finn offered, "Said she doesn't have to be up 'cause she's got her certificate now."

Polly groaned, tugging Clara from Tommy's lap and sending her towards the stairs. "Just when I think it's only the boys I have worrying me, you girls decide to kick off."

Tommy pushed his chair back and stood up. "Let Ada sleep."

Polly's eyebrows raised. "You're going to get your sister ready for school?"

"I'm not a baby. I can dress myself,” Clara said.

“There you have it, Polly. She’s not a baby. She can dress herself," Tommy answered.

“Fine, just make sure it’s done in the next five minutes. I want all three of you out the door by then.”

They were actually ready to be out the door in under four minutes, but Polly took fault with the state in which Tommy left his sister’s hair so they all waited while Polly put in a neat plait down the girl’s back.

The walk to the schoolhouse wasn’t so long, and by the time Tommy and the twins reached the end of Watery Lane, they were joined by a smattering of the younger kids living along the way, the group of them chattering excitedly with Finn.

Clara deliberately slowed their pace, putting a thoughtful measure of distance between them and the kids. Tommy allowed it, shortening his strides to keep them back. He thought she had something to tell him, but Clara stayed quiet, watching Finn and the other kids and listening to them chattering away.

It was only when they were just outside the schoolyard that Clara finally found her words, tugging on his hand to garner his attention.

"Tommy?" she asked. “What's the catch?”

Tommy looked down at her, neat and prim and proper in her new dress, looking more like she belonged at home with a governess than the crowded classroom she would soon find herself in. "The catch?"

“If I don’t go to school and be a horsewoman instead,” she said, “What’s the catch?”

Clara knew there was good and bad to everything and she had been thinking about the question from the moment they stepped onto Watery Lane, wondering what could be bad about spending her life with the horses and her brother. She knew he came home dirty and tired, but whenever they went to the yard, he seemed happy.

Tommy smiled, lifting her into his arms. "Hard work, my girl, but you've got that either way. Just have to decide if you want to be mucking stalls or reading books."

Tommy saw the teacher at the steps, saw Finn already off with his friends from the lane, but he offered Clara a few more moments in his arms. He searched for a few words to encourage her before setting her feet to the pavement, but as the teacher rang the bell, the sound still invoking something in Tommy though he’d been out of school for years, Finn raced to their side and reached a hand up towards his sister.

"C'mon, Clara."

Tommy let Clara down when she clasped Finn's outstretched hand, her grip on Tommy lasting just a moment past her sliding down his side. It was a mix of relief and sadness Tommy felt when Clara let him go, his girl taking the hand of another brother for support, the babies embarking on a new adventure all of their own.

Tommy watched them make their way through the schoolyard, already decided that he wouldn't step away until they were safely beyond the heavy wooden doors. They were nearly through it, already offering their greetings to the young teacher ringing the bell when Clara dropped Finn’s hand and raced down the steps, making it back to him in less than half the time it took to get to the door.

Tommy kneeled down to meet her. He had the words prepared now, had finally found the right message to send her on her way, but Clara interrupted him before he got a proper start, whispering into the crook of his neck as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Can I still be a horsewoman with you even if I like school?"

Tommy grinned and pulled back to look into her eyes. "You can be whatever you'd like, but if you don't get up those steps with Finn, the first thing you'll be is late."

Clara hugged her brother again before sprinting back towards the school. Tommy knew it was unlikely his sister would be a horsewoman or a lady barber or any of the number of occupations she'd asked after, but Tommy didn’t have it in him to deny his sister that happiness. He decided long ago not to deny either of the twins that if he could help it.

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