#link leads to the picrew thing.

[thuidium-delicatulum]

not me letting out my gender envy for a certain musical's lead plant in a picrew...

anyhow heres the picrew link https://picrew.me/image_maker/1136156/complete?cd=hKLPDxgUQT

i also used it to make this charming flower guy and this cute lil mushroom kid!!

@astridcookie @octobitheoctagonal @amaristm @ar1-thecat @runwiththerain @beechild13 @fuelledbyanxiety @yesterdayorcenturiesbefore @thatgendergremlinmoot @amugofwine @twistedsemblance

i wanna see what pretty things y'all can make :]

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 2: The Hospital

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when Easy Company has to navigate the emergency room to help Malarkey?

Words: 3,732

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Have a question/want to be on the taglist? Let me know !!

Author's Note: Hi y'all! Thank you all so much for reading Chap 1, I truly did not expect the fic to get the reception that it did 🥺💕 y'all are absolutely amazing and I can't wait to share more of the story with you!! (Link to picrew in collage)

The walk to the hospital was uneventful, unless you count the stares of passersby and Nixon struggling to understand how to cross the street. When it came time to cross the busy street to arrive at the hospital, the men were halted by a red hand shining across from them on a small, strange screen. When Nixon looked at the pole to his right, he noticed a button with the words "push to cross" written above it. Naturally, the man pressed the button. A deep, assertive voice sounded from the button, instructing the men to "WAIT." "Why is it telling us to wait?" Luz questioned indignantly, still rubbing the spot where Malarkey kicked him.

"So we don't get run over?" Guarnere posed to the group in his South Philly accent. Before anyone could affirm this, the red hand disappeared from the screen and was replaced by what appeared to be a person walking. Traffic was stopped, and the men were free to cross. As quickly as they could, the men made their journey across the street. Toye was the last one to complete the crossing, still being on the asphalt when the intimidating red hand reappeared. This earned the man a jarring "honk" from the driver closest to them. Toye whipped around in shock, instinctively reaching for his weapon before remembering where they were - or rather, where they were not.

Finally, the men made it to the entrance of the hospital. While Winters and Nixon tried to look for a handle to open the glass doors in front of them, they were astonished to see the doors slide open on their own as someone was walking past them, out of the hospital. Nixon shot Winters a look - one of bewilderment, wonder, and most visibly, exasperation. Winters simply replied with an amused smile before leading his men into the hospital lobby.

Dick and Easy Company didn't get far before a stocky man wearing a polo saying "Hospital Security" put his hand on Winters' chest, stopping the men from going further and making Dick rather uncomfortable. "Woah there buddy, you can't bring those in here, sick world war 2 replicas though," the man stated, more at Dick rather than to him. The man punctuated his sentence with a gesture towards the rifles carried by Toye, Guarnere, and Speirs. Each word the man said was more confusing than the last - you can't bring your weapons in? What is World War 2? And why was it "sick?"

"Um…what do we do with them?" Dick replied. It was not the best thing he could have said, but he was still trying to wrap his head around how a gun can have an illness.

"I don't care what you do with them, they just can't come in here," the man replied bluntly. Winters nodded and led his men back outside. They were alone again. 

"Sir, can we hide them behind these bushes?" Malarkey asked, pointing over Roe's shoulder to a line of thick, opaque bushes next to the hospital entrance. Checking to make sure no one was around, Winters nodded his head and started putting all his gear behind the bush.

"Nix, help me take their gear. Helmets and all weapons come off, men," Dick instructed the soldiers, Nixon assisting Malarkey and his supporters before getting rid of his own gear. The men felt naked without their supplies, but they needed to help Malarkey.

The men returned to the hospital lobby, the security guard from earlier giving them an approving nod before stepping aside. He outstretched his hand in the direction of the hospital front desk, quickly receiving a nod of thanks from each of the men as they walked past him.

"How can I help you?" The lady sitting behind the desk asked, continuing to stare at the papers littering her desk.

"My friend has a broken rib that needs to be tended to," Winters explained hesitantly, gesturing for Roe and Speirs to bring Malarkey up to the front.

"Name?" The receptionist asked, turning to a set of buttons that seemed to resemble a typewriter - next to the buttons seemed to be some kind of television, the boys deduced, even though the screen seemed extraordinarily flat.

"Donald Malarkey, ma'am," the redhead replied, wincing as Speirs adjusted his shoulder.

"Date of birth?"

"7/21/1921."

The receptionist gave him a look that could only convey the most intense form of irritation known to man. "Very funny, how old are you?" She continued, her tone indicating she was not the least bit amused.

Poor Malarkey, unsure of how he had said something wrong, simply winced in pain and replied, "I'm 23 ma'am." Making no indication that she heard Don answer her question, the receptionist clicked away on her buttons before a strand of glossy paper printed from a device connected to her television.

"Your wrist please," she instructed, holding out the paper like a bracelet. Looking at Winters for approval, Malarkey hesitantly unwrapped his arm from Speirs' shoulder and held out his wrist - the receptionist promptly wrapped the paper around him, sealing it with what seemed to be a sticky piece at the end. "Have a seat, they'll call you when they're ready," she told none of the men in particular as she went back to staring at the papers on her desk. Looking down at the paper band, Malarkey saw that it had his name and birthday beside a barcode. However, Don noticed a mistake - his birthday. Instead of 1921, the year read 2000. This just confirmed the thought all of the men were praying not to be true.

The injured redhead whispered a quiet "fuck" under his breath before being led to the waiting area by Roe and Speirs. With several seats around the large waiting room already occupied, the men agreed to have Roe and Malarkey take a seat while the rest stood next to them. Taking in his surroundings, Winters' eyes landed on a lady talking to the woman behind the desk. Her hair seemed to be…blue? As Dick unintentionally stared at the girl, trying to understand why she would have blue hair, the lady looked up, and their eyes met. The color of her eyes matched that of her hair - a deep, ultramarine blue. Dick only realized he was staring when he saw the shock and bewilderment in the girl's eyes - she quickly returned the way she came as Winters pondered how eyes could be so blue.

"Smooth," Nixon commented, leaning against the wall next to Winters. A choked chuckle came from the floor next to Eugene's seat, where Liebgott and Luz were trying everything not to laugh at their Captain's comment. Winters simply rolled his eyes at his men, of course they would think he was infatuated with the girl.

"I'm gonna go look around," Speirs said before wandering off on his own, not even giving Winters a second to approve the decision.

"Don't go far!" Nixon called out after the officer, sarcasm subtle but clear in his voice. Ron looked back with a nod of his head before disappearing around a corner. Ron Speirs was always one to do his own thing, and heaven help the person who stood in his way. The nine men tried their best to relax in the crowded waiting room, listening to the television in the far corner spout out words like "Google" and "wifi" before showing an advertisement for gadgets that felt entirely fake. The most impactful item was decidedly something called Bluetooth earbuds.

"I think it's real guys… I think we're really in 2023," Guarnere muttered helplessly - Nothing ever seemed to rattle the Italian American, but for the first time, the soldiers saw Guarnere be just that. Sitting on the floor, Guarnere’s back was back against the wall facing Roe and Malarkey. Luz and Liebgott were sitting next to the medic and redhead on the floor, George resting his head on the side of Roe’s seat. Toye could be found pacing in the corner next to the vending machines, Nixon needing to shift his position in order to avoid being run over. Bull was sitting next to Winters, his mountainous figure somehow becoming comfortable on the narrow window sill framing the glass displaying the vast parking lot.

"How could that have happened though? It doesn't make any fucking sense!" Liebgott spat out in frustration. This earned him several glares from his group, their eyes telling him to keep it down. Liebgott rolled his own eyes before continuing in a quieter tone, "One minute, we were dropping into a foxhole for cover, and the next, were 79 years into the fucking future? Tell me how that fucking works." The rifleman's tone became more irritated the more he realized how unreal this all was.

"Better yet, how the fuck do we get back to the rest of Easy?" Toye's tone matched the rifleman's in irritation, but the spitfire in Toye's tone caused the question to come across as venomous. Bull appeared to be the only enlisted man not about to lose his mind, once again chewing on his Emotional Support Cigar.

"Bull, how the fuck are you so calm?" Luz asked the mountain of a man, his nickname making sense without any verbal explanation.

"Just following orders, I know the captains will take care of us," Bull replied casually, nodding towards Captain Winters and Captain Nixon. The two officers smiled while Winters nodded in gratitude.

"I appreciate the trust, Bull," Dick replied, praying that he could live up to that trust and get his boys home safe.

"Malarkey!" A booming voice called at the front of the room, causing the named man to twirl around in his seat. He and the rest of the soldiers turned to see a man holding a clipboard, signaling for Malarkey to follow him. Eugene helped Don to his feet and all nine of them started walking over. "Woah woah, only one of y'all can go back with him," the man said, holding his hands up in protest. The men all exchanged glances of confusion and worry - their constant state since arriving here - before Winters instructed Roe to accompany his injured soldier. As the captain watched his two men disappear behind a door, a small voice in the back of his head prayed he would see them again.

While the men waited for Malarkey in the waiting room, Speirs had been wandering around the cavernous halls of the hospital. Unfortunately, his solo mission has proven to provide more questions than answers. All around himself, Ron was confronted with inventions, words, and people that seemed to be out of a moving picture. From men and women wearing strange clothes, to machines beeping as if to speak their own language, Speirs felt as if he were on another planet. The officer was snapped from his thoughts when he heard a hushed voice say names that he recognized - Winters, Nixon, Liebgott, Toye.

"I'm telling you Chrys, they look exactly like Easy Company! It has to be them!" The voice spoke emphatically. Speirs cautiously searched around the hallways, coming across a small alcove where a lady with bright blue hair was talking into what appeared to be a small rectangle. She was using it as a phone, Speirs assumed, but it looked nothing like any phone he had ever seen. Speirs ducked behind the wall, not daring to venture too close to the edge, lest he be caught by the woman. "Dude you need to get down here, I promise it's the guys," the lady said a bit louder, assuming she was alone. A brief pause occurred before Speirs heard her say, "Sweet! Text me when you get here! Love you!"

He suddenly heard footsteps coming in his direction, causing the man to glue himself to the wall, praying that she passed his hallway without a glance. His prayers were answered as he saw the mop of blue hair walk past him and turn down one of the labyrinthian hallways, paying the officer no mind. Speirs proceeded to dart back the way he came, bumping into doctors and patients alike before descending a familiar flight of stairs and returning to the waiting room. The officer drew every pair of eyes to him as he ran across to where his men were waiting on Malarkey and Roe.

"I think we have a problem sir," Ron said to Dick, his voice remained monotone, but the captain could see urgency in his eyes. Speirs recounted his experience in a hushed tone to his commanding officer.

"So she knows we're here sir?" Toye interjected after hearing the officer's story. His tone imitated the facial expressions of all the men - they were unsure whether to be relieved or terrified.

“Looks like it, I have no clue how, I highly doubt she’s from … our time,” Speirs replied, hesitant to say something that sounded like it could be from a fantasy story. “What do you want us to do, sir?” Ron asked, looking at the redheaded captain. Dick paused and thought for several moments, his men awaiting his response with bated breath.

“We need to find out what she knows. Best case scenario she can help us… worst case, she’s the reason we’re here,” Winters explained. “Speirs, Liebgott, go find her and figure out what she knows. If you can do it without arousing suspicion, try and bring her back here,” he instructed the two. The men nodded in understanding before the man with the clipboard reappeared.

“Malarkey family? He’s been admitted to a bed, you can come back now,” the man said, gesturing for Easy Company to follow him. Winters quickly leaned in to whisper to Speirs.

“Try and have her lead you to where we are, she probably works here and knows her way around,” the captain explained quickly before following his men back behind a mysterious door, the same one that Malarkey and Roe walked through earlier. As the door slowly swung shut, Speirs led Liebgott to where he overheard the conversation. The walls were decorated with bright colors and strange cartoon characters - maybe undersea animals? Except for one that looked like what the two could only describe as a squirrel in a spacesuit.

“What happened to the good cartoons?” Liebgott mused, processing all of the decorations - it was clear to the two that they were in the children’s wing of the hospital.

“Beats the hell out of me,” Ron replied to Joe, trying his best to be casual as he made his way around the corner. There was a big desk area in the center of the floor, with hallways splaying out like spokes on a wheel. Behind the desk were men and women wearing similar clothes with name badges attached at collars, pockets, and sleeves. On the wall behind the desk was a white message board appearing to have been written on with a marker. The board read:

Welcome to East Raleigh Hospital

Pediatrics Wing!

Date: Wednesday, August 23, 2023

Doctor: Damien Livingston, MD Ped.

Nurses: Dakota Brandt, RN

Reagan Morgan, RN

Azalea “Zay” Bennett, RN

“Zay! Room 303 needs you!” the man sitting behind the desk called behind him, typing away on what Liebgott and Speirs assumed was another weird typewriter.

“Coming!” Joe and Ron’s heads whipped around to see their target speed walking into a patient room with a sign on the wall reading “303.” Her azure hair was tied into a short but bouncy ponytail, black glasses framing her eyes that matched her hair in color. Her clothes were similar to the rest of the employees in the hospital - a shirt with a multitude of pockets and cuffed pants with cargo pockets. The girl’s look was finished with a stethoscope laying around her neck and a pair of scissors hanging off a loop on her pants. The pastel pink of her uniform was a prominent but pleasing contrast to the saturated color of her hair.

“There’s our girl,” Joe Liebgott mused, leaning against the wall, unable to stop a smile from growing on his face. “What do you wanna do, sir?” he asked Captain Speirs, turning his head to look at the superior officer. Speirs continued looking thoughtfully at the room, and Liebgott could see the wheels turning as he figured out what to do.

“Sublest thing to do would be to wait until she takes a break, but I’ve never known Doc, or any medic for that matter, to take a break of his own volition,” Speirs mused. Sure, Zay may not have been a doctor, but Speirs could still not remember a time where he saw anyone at an aid station choose to leave their patients.

“Would there be any other reason she’d leave the floor?” Joe responded, keeping an eye on room 303. Just then, a voice came over the hospital speakers calling “code blue, room 350.” In the blink of an eye, medical staff could be seen speeding down the hall past the boys, Zay along with them.

Speirs gave Liebgott a knowing look before both of them speedily followed the group. The pair passed a door with a small window, showing the room to be empty, save for a table with a couple of chairs. Testing the doorknob as they passed it, the door slowly creaked open. In a flurry of surprisingly silent motion, Speirs grabbed Zay around the waist, using his other hand to cover her mouth before whirling into the room. Liebgott quickly shut the door behind them and kept an eye out the window as Speirs shoved the nurse against the wall, his hand still covering her mouth.

Speirs’ eyes pierced into hers, shock and fright evident on the girl’s face. “No more hiding, blue,” Speirs whispered threateningly to Zay, her fear only intensifying. “I’m going to remove my hand, and when I do, you’re going to tell us what you know about Easy Company and how you know it. And don’t pretend you don’t know anything, we heard you say our names earlier. If you scream, try to fight, or try to run, this is going to end very badly for you, understand?” Zay nodded as best she could, Speirs’ hand limiting her head’s range of motion. Slowly, Ron took his hand off of her mouth, staring expectantly, and scarily, at the nurse.

Speirs and Liebgott were unsure what they expected Zay to say, but her answer to Speirs’ command was definitely not it. “You’re on TV,” she spoke in a low, shaky voice. “T-the show, there’s a show, it features Easy Company,” While the words themselves were difficult to believe, Ron saw honesty in her eyes.

“So you’re telling me that there’s a TV show about us, and it tells everyone everything about us,” he replied, once again hating how fantastical everything happening around him was. The nurse nodded her head, slowly becoming more confident.

“Why do you want to know?” She asked, confusion joining the fright still evident in her expression. Speirs scoffed at the question.

“You telling me us going through the foxhole isn’t on the show?” he challenged the nurse. The muscles in Zay’s face scrunched as she listened to the officer.

“What do you mean going through the foxhole?”

The officer thought for a moment, debating whether or not to share more information with the stranger. Grumbling in frustration, Ron decided it was worth the risk, “In Bastogne, a bunch of us jumped into a foxhole after we saw Doc Roe drop in and not come out.” Zay’s eyes grew wide as she listened to Speirs. After a moment, her expression changed to one of irritation. The adrenaline had subsided, and Zay’s common sense kicked in - there was no way the characters from Band of Brothers were here, holding her hostage in the patient-conference room.

“Look, your costumes are great, but I need to get back to my patients,” she said as she attempted to walk past Speirs. As Zay started to move, the officer forcibly shoved her shoulders back against the wall, effectively pinning her. His tall figure towered over her, and Zay could feel her fear rising once again.

“Why the fuck would we be lying about this?” he asked with agitation.

“Alright, prove to me you’re from the 1940s,” Zay instructed with as much courage as she could muster. Speirs thought for a moment before Liebgott spoke up.

“I think I got something that can prove it,” he explained before patting his pockets, searching for something. Zay and Speirs watched the soldier as he pulled out a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes and a dollar bill. Both, while appearing relatively new, showed the date. On the bottom of the Lucky Strikes, the year next to the copyright symbol read 1944. Likewise, the dollar bill displayed a print date of 1944. Zay gulped as she stared at the evidence - her favorite TV show has come to life right before her.

“Alright, I believe y’all,” she responded with a shaky voice. “H-how many of y’all are here?” Zay asked as Speirs’ grip on her shoulders relaxed.

“There’s ten of us - Winters, Nixon, Guarnere, Toye, Bull, Luz, Roe, Malarkey, Speirs, and me,” Liebgott explained, Zay nodding in understanding. Liebgott continued to explain how they fell into an alley, and how they made the trek to the hospital after Luz landed on Malarkey. Speirs wanted to reprimand Liebgott for giving away so much information, but the air of kindness and honesty around the blue-haired girl put the officer at ease.

“So y’all really have no clue where you are or how you got here…” Zay thought aloud after Joe explained everything to her. Ron and Joe shook their heads, indicating their lack of knowledge. “Would y’all be willing to take me to captain Winters? If it’s okay, I’d be happy to help you guys if I can,” Zay offered shyly, still rather intimidated by Speirs.

Speirs nodded before replying, “We’re not really sure where he is, the guy with the clipboard just said that Malarkey was admitted to a bed and then led the rest of the guys behind a door.” The nurse gave the soldiers a warmhearted smile as she responded.

“I know where he is, just follow me,” the blue-haired girl said, Speirs finally allowing her to slide past him. Liebgott politely opened the door for her as the two soldiers followed the nurse out and down the hall.

~~~~~

Chapter One | Chapter 3

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @xxluckystrike

Thank you again for reading! Be on the lookout for Chapter 3 coming next week! ✨

#should've been born later nix #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #hbo #hbo war #easy company #credit to pic owners in chapter collage! #my writing #time travel #easy company x oc #richard winters #dick winters #lewis nixon #ronald speirs #ron speirs #eugene roe #gene roe #doc roe #george luz #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #joe toye #joseph toye #william guarnere #bill guarnere #ol' gonorrhea #donald malarkey #don malarkey #denver randleman #bull randleman

[masterjedilenawrites]

👥 My OCs 👥 [Master List]

Open to reading about original/non-canon characters? This list will link to stories, headcanons, and blurbs where I've shared about my dearly beloved OCs.

Check out other master lists here.

⛑ Dr. Joan Vo

A civilian medic during the clone wars. Worked with the 116th. Eventual love interest of Crosshair.

Story: The Sniper & the Medic

One Shot: How she joins the 116th battalion

Art: Picrew of how I picture her

If she were a shoe / If she were a setting / Something you'd immediately notice about her vs later

Her voice / Where she grew up / Her ideal weapon

Most important thing / Her hobby / Her Starbucks order

Her core wound / What she'd do at a party / Her signature color palette

🐦‍⬛ Commander Crowe & the 116th

A regular infantry battalion during the clone wars. Led by General Rhee. Tragic ending.

Additional troopers: Captain Civic, R.J. (pilot), Diver (co-pilot), Breeze, Mack, Coma, Commander Falcon (leads the 115th, Crowe's bestie)

One Shot: Introduction to Crowe & the 116th battalion

Quick Crowe HCs

More Crowe HCs & profile pic

Chapter: Their tragic end

If he were a shoe / If he were a setting / Something you'd immediately notice about him vs later

His favorite book / My favorite trait of his / His weakness

💟 Jedi General Rhee Cthedsard

A Jedi Knight during the clone wars. Trained under Mace Windu and led the 116th. Tragic ending.

Initial development of his character

One Shot: Introduction to Rhee & the 116th

If he were a shoe / If he were a setting / Something you'd immediately notice about him vs later

His voice / Where he grew up / His ideal weapon

His core wound / What he'd do at a party / His signature color palette

⚽️ Bethany Batch

Single adoptive mom of the Bad Batch in a modern AU. Eventual relationship with a clone I have yet to reveal.

The Batch Family Master List

✂️ Scraps

A defective clone meant to work with the Bad Batch. Tragic ending.

Brief mention in The Sniper & the Medic

His favorite book / My favorite trait of his / His weakness

✈️ Kohl Morley

An Imperial pilot. Trained (unwillingly) by Reader character. Tragic past which leads to complicated connection with Reader.

First appearance in Broken Wings (unnamed - he's the "soft spoken one")

His favorite book / My favorite trait of his / His weakness

🪐 Unpublished "Rebel Girl" characters

Jetstream / JJ-505: An Imperial Elite Trooper. Birth name and home world have been long forgotten. Raised an orphan and conscripted as a stormtrooper from a very young age. Partial to using jetpacks and rifle weapons in battle.

Luche Race: An Imperial Special Forces Command Officer. Assigned to Mission Command for the Elite Trooper Program, overseeing the soldier JJ-505. Born and raised on Pantora, suspected to be half-Pantoran/half-human. Personal interests include history and architecture.

Kye "KB" Bodalla: A Rebel leader. Born on a cargo ferry and transient thereafter. Worked as a contractor in a variety of fields until turning a blind eye to the atrocities of the Empire was no longer an option. Now leads a band of Rebel Alliance fighters in the mid and outer rims.

The only snippet I've shared so far

💫 Canon characters from Rebels I gave a name and/or personality to

Valen Rudor/Charlemagne and Supply Master Lyste (S1, E4)

Aresko/Vampire Officer and Mr. Grint (S1, E6)

Gunter (S1, E8)

Konstantine/Mustache Officer (S1, E9)

Konstantine and Yves (S1, E11)

Dave (S1, E15)

Yves and Dave (again), and Tito (S2, E4)

Huey, Louie, Dewey, and Miles (S2, E8)

🗂️ Misc characters

Natalia Mercer and Sergeant Kieron Beloch, from In Other Words

Suula and Mallona, from Spitting Image

Amara Tilde, Sergeant Lou Mam, and Heva, from Broken Wings

Arden, Commander Burdick, Eva Carroway, and Sadie Amiko, from Blueberries & Cowboys

#star wars #original characters #ocs #the clone wars #the empire #the first order #the jedi #modern aus #the bad batch #rebels

[prismatica-the-strange]

Black Sheep | Surprising These Hands Can Hold Me Up

Warnings: 18+, nudity, I have never read the books so I'm basically adlibbing from the movie-verse, sorry if my lore is off

Beretta starts to adjust to her current life as a suitor in King Caspian's castle despite a few setbacks, they start to become quite fond of each other.

Not a fully coherent story and not quite an anthology, but an assortment of moments from early on in Caspian and Retta's relationship. Takes place over the course of six to seven months.

Word Count: 4.5k

Song: Gold by We Are the Guests | Picrew Link | Dividers by @cafekitsune

He can tell she knows he's there by the way her ears flick at his every quiet movement, but she doesn't look up from her book.

"So this is where you hide when you disappear," He says, bringing her attention fully to him.

"Your Majesty," She starts to close her book and stand, her middle finger keeping her page, but he waves his hand to stop her.

"You don't need to stand and, please, call me Caspian," He insists, taking a seat next to her on the stone bench.

She nods, sitting back where she was, but she's much less relaxed, her back looking more rigid than before.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your reading. Is it a good book?" He kicks himself for being so awkward with her. He just doesn't know how to act around suitors yet.

"My favorite, actually," She admits.

He glances over her shoulder to see well-read pages with notes and scribbles filling the margins.

She likes to read. He makes a mental note of that.

"Perhaps you would care to tell me about it tonight over dinner?" He asks, "Only if you wish to. I'd love to know more about the things you enjoy."

He tries to hide the smile spreading across his face when he sees her cheeks tint pink.

"I believe that sounds agreeable, your Majesty."

"Good, but I believe I asked you to call me-"

"Caspian," She replies, correcting herself. They've know each other barely over a week but he can't deny the flutter in his chest at the sound of his name on her lips.

It's been nearly three months since her arrival and he has a surprise for her. The only problem is he's searched the whole castle and can't seem to find her anywhere, not even in the hidden nook in the garden where she likes to read.

He sighs, relief washing over him when he does find her in one of the less-used corridors until he sees the troubled look in her eyes.

"There you are," He calls, making his way over, "I've been looking for you. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," She waves off his concern as he takes her hands.

"That look didn't seem like nothing to me," He pushes, thumbs brushing the fur peaking out from the cuffs of her sleeves.

She refuses to meet his gaze, worried if she were to look into his warm brown eyes she'd crumble.

"I'm fine," She insists.

Since she seems unwilling to tell him, he drops the subject for now.

"Well, no matter the case, I have something for you."

"For me?"

"Yes, for you," He chuckles.

"You didn't have to..." She looks up at him and his eyes light up.

"I know," He grins, "I wanted to."

He leads her out to the stables where he has both their horses saddled and ready.

"Are we going somewhere?" She asks.

"You didn't think your surprise was in the stables, did you?"

Her ears fall slightly at his teasing, cheeks warming up again.

"May I?" He holds out his hand to help her onto her horse.

She's hesitant but lets him, his hand is warm around hers.

"Thank you."

She notices as he pulls himself into his own saddle, that his sword is hanging off it. Her bow and quiver are secured to hers and her eyebrows furrow.

"You think we'll need these?"

"I prefer to have them with us, just in case."

She nods in agreement, taking up her horse's reins.

"So where're we off to?" She asks, eyeing the large pack on the back of his saddle.

"Just follow me.

It's farther than she expected, nearly half a day's ride from the castle. They'd left later than he wanted, so they make it to the camp just as the sun sinks below the horizon.

"Caspian, what is all this?" She asks.

"It was meant to be more of a secluded dinner for the two of us but," He clears his throat, "I seemed to have gotten the timing wrong."

She chuckles, jumping down from her horse before he can offer her his hand again.

"It's a nice spot," She comments, "Pretty."

"I'll get a fire started."

"I can do that. You seem to have some unpacking to do," She snickers, motioning to his pack with her chin.

Twenty minutes later they're sat across a roaring fire, picking at the remnants of their packed lunch.

"Not much of a meal, is it?" She comments and his eyes go wide.

"If you want more I can-..." She starts laughing when he moves to stand and he freezes, words trailing off.

"I'm teasing, My King," She smirks.

"Oh," He settles back down, chuckling and hoping the firelight hides his reddening cheeks.

By the way she keeps giggling, he can tell it doesn't, which only makes it worse.

"So," She crisscrosses her legs as she sits up, looking at him over the fire, "How did get this one past your advisers?"

"I have no idea what you mean," He smiles at her.

"Well, some people might consider this... improper," She teases, "A young, unmarried couple stealing away unchaperoned to the woods? Scandalous."

"I believe that, if we are to be married, someday, we should be able to get to know each other in a... less formal setting," He explains and she nods.

"I will find us something a little more hearty in the morning," He says.

"You plan on hunting with that sword of yours?"

He sees the way the light catches as a playful glint in her eye.

"Perhaps you would rather catch our breakfast, then?"

"I'd likely be quicker at it."

This is better, He thinks. Their conversation flows much more comfortably than at the palace.

She seems to be able to hold her own out in the wilderness. He doubts that any of his other suitors would be nearly this at home in the woods.

"So, you didn't bring yourself a bow, did you forget anything else important?"

"Like what?"

"Wine of course!" Her eyes narrow at him, "You can't expect to spend multiple nights without any spirits!"

He laughs at that, one thing he's noticed is that she never goes a meal without at least one goblet of wine.

"I had a cask brought out," He assures her and her ears flick down in surprise.

He wakes up not long after the sun rises to the sound of boots shuffling in the dirt.

He reaches for his blade out of instinct, only to realize it's just his companion.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he sits up and he freezes when she drops three dead rabbits on the ground in front of him.

"How long have you been up?" He asks.

"Maybe an hour before dawn."

"You couldn't sleep?"

"I was hungry."

"You should have woken me," He argues, picking up the animals.

"I didn't see a need," She shrugs, "Now, I killed them, so you prep."

"Sounds fair," He grins. He pulls out his knife and is about to get to work, but stops when she starts to leave camp again, "Where are you going?"

"To wash up," She calls over her shoulder, "I got blood in my fur."

Once he's skinned and prepared the rabbits to be cooked he follows her path to wash the blood from his hands and dagger.

He stops in his tracks when she comes into view. Her clothes are laid out on a rock on the river bank and she stands in thigh-high water with her back to him as she washes herself.

He means to look away but instead, his eyes wander her frame. Curly, black fur wraps around her hips, trailing down her thighs, up her spine, and spreading out to her shoulders. A black fuzzy tail sits at the base of her spine just before the curve of her rear.

He looks up to see her looking back at him, her arm quickly moving to cover her breasts.

"D-did you need something?"

"I-" His eyes go wide and his mouth opens and closes soundlessly, "I-I didn't-!

His hand suddenly flies up to cover his eyes before he turns his back.

With his back to her, he can't see the small, curious smile playing on her lips, "How long were you standing there?"

He looks up at the sky, nose scrunching in embarrassment, "I apologize, I... I didn't mean to."

She bites her bottom lip when an idea comes to her.

"I don't mind," He hears water splash as she makes her way towards the river bank, "You startled me is all."

Her voice is right next to him now and when he glances toward her he chokes on air. She's still naked.

She chuckles and places her hand on his arm.

"It's alright," She purrs.

Aslan help him, He prays, swallowing hard and tearing his eyes away from the trail of dark fuzz leading from her sex to just below her breasts to meet her gaze.

"You- um..."

He's red from the neck up and the sight makes her grin.

She giggles as she pulls away, and he can't stop himself from watching her hips sway as she walks towards her clothes, her tail flicking playfully.

Fauns.

He huffs and shakes his head. Sometimes he forgets she is one with how poised and stoic she acts at the castle. But seeing this side of her seems to endear him to her more.

The other suitors he's met are much more... stuck up is a word he would use. More proper, and would never allow themselves to be caught like this with him before marriage, let alone this early into their courtship.

He glances back over his shoulder to see her now covered.

She comes back toward him, her hand running down his arm as she passes.

She giggles as she finishes her goblet of wine.

The cask is nearly half gone and she's drank most of it herself.

She sighs and leans her head on his shoulder, deciding three cups in to move from her spot across the fire to sit by his side.

"Mmm, this is nice," She mumbles, nuzzling her head against the bottom of his chin

Fauns

The fire is warm, but where she lays against him is burning hot, and even then, he can't seem to find it in himself to remove her.

It isn't long before she starts to relax more, her black nose twitching as she adjusts beside him.

She clumsily slides her head into his lap, a small, drunken smile on her face.

"This was a great idea," She laughs, "I feel like I can breathe again!"

He hesitantly reaches to brush his fingers through her hair, it's a temptation he's been fighting since they first met. It just looks so soft.

His fingers still and the question lingers in his eyes as he looks down at her face. Her cheeks are flushed the cutest shade of pink as she stares back at him.

"May I?"

She nods, her eyes fluttering shut when he runs his hand disappears into her hair.

He lets a baffled chuckle, it's even softer than he expected, and her ears-

"Eh!" Her eyes snap open and she hurriedly sits up.

"D-did I-"

"My ears," She whimpers, pulling on the one he'd caressed, "They're very sensitive..."

"I'm sorry."

She shakes her head, peeking over her shoulder at him, "I should have said something."

He reaches over again, fingers brushing the fur at the back of her neck. Her ears flick at the touch and he pulls away slightly. She looks back at him, her face bright red, "Well don't stop."

She sounds almost embarrassed, but the feel of his hands in her fur was so delectable that she doesn't want it to end.

He chuckles at her annoyance, arm gently wrapping around her to lay her back in his lap.

He cards his fingers through her fur, runs his thumb over the spots on her cheek, and pets the fur on the sides of her face as the night goes on. She looks as though she were in heaven under his lavishments until she falls asleep.

Summer fades to fall and it's late autumn when another, unexpected, suitor arrives at the castle, with too much luggage and three ladies' maids.

Much to Baretta's dismay, Caspian doesn't turn her away outright, far too chivalrous to do so after she's traveled such a long way. Had she been in The Fae Empire she wouldn't have hesitated to do so for inconveniencing her.

A week into her stay winter blows in, freezing the landscape in frigid snow.

"There you are, my king!" A shrill voice calls from behind them, interrupting their mid-morning walk, "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Caspian and Beretta share an annoyed look before he turns to greet her.

"Good morning, Princess Georgiana," He smiles courteously at her.

She looks flustered, cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and perfectly curled, golden, hair haphazardly tussled around her shoulders while simultaneously being crushed by her hat.

"Princess Georgiana," Beretta greets with a small bow of the head.

"May I join you?" She asks directly to Caspian, completely ignoring her.

Caspian though, looks to her for her approval and she sighs.

"I have something to attend to," She smiles politely, lying through her teeth.

Caspian's face falls when she lets go of his arm, dark eyes sorrowful as she steps away.

"No, please, stay," He says, trying to not sound like he's begging.

"I'm sorry, My King," She bites back a smile at that, "But I should leave you two be."

She tries not to laugh at the desperate look he's giving her when she turns to leave the garden.

Two hours later, Caspian is in a meeting with his advisors and Retta is curled up in a plush chair in one of the sitting rooms with a book and mug of hot chocolate.

"This castle is freezing," A familiar voice snaps, "Must be nice being a fuzzball, she doesn't have to worry about it."

Her ears pivot back. Fuzzball?

"Yes, m'lady."

"I'm shocked he lets her get that close," She continues, "I wouldn't be surprised if she had fleas."

"And who ever heard of a faun being queen of Narnia?" Georgiana scoffs, voice echoing throughout the castle corridors, "She must be kidding herself if she thinks he'll actually pick her!"

"Yes, m'lady..."

Her ears fall as she frowns. Do people actually think that?

Is she not what the people expect from a queen?

Self-doubt swirls in her mind and eats away her afternoon.

"I can't believe you left me to fend for myself with her this morning," Caspian jokes, startling her as he falls into the chair across from her, "I swear I have bruises from how tight she was clinging to my arm."

The sun is setting outside the windows and she wonders what happened to the day.

Her lack of response worries him.

"Retta?" He leans over, finger curling under her chin, turning her face to look at him, "Are you alright."

"I..." She can feel her eyes start to glass over but she doesn't pull away, "I'm fine."

His jaw sets when her voice cracks and he slides out of the chair to his knees in front of her, taking her face in his hands.

"What happened?"

"I-I'm not..." She tries to not sniffle, "Not good enough..."

His dark eyes search hers for more answers, "Not good enough? For who, my love?"

"For you," She cries, tears falling down her cheeks and dampening her fur.

His eyes go wide and he tries to wipe them away with his thumbs.

"Where did you ever get such a silly idea? I'm certain Aslan himself must have blessed me with the chance to be by your side," She looks at him with big, wet eyes as he continues, "And may he help whoever made you feel this way, for they will have no shelter from my rage."

He pulls her closer and tilts her head down to kiss her forehead.

"Come now," He shushes, moving to sit beside her, nudging her over before pulling her into his lap, "It's alright. Dry your eyes."

She feels childish, crying like this over something she'd overheard from a pompous, spoiled brat of a princess. But the way he cradles her against his chest is more than enough to soothe that worry.

She clings to him and lets herself be truly vulnerable.

The Christmas Ball quickly approaches and since their heart-to-heart, if that's what you can even call it, Beretta and Caspian have been closer than ever.

The only thing keeping them from declaring their complete and utter love for each other to all of Narnia is a handful of old laws and traditions.

Caspian must first meet with and consort with all of his suitors, then spend the minimum of a year courting the one he desires and desires him in return.

The whole thing frustrates him to no end. He knows who he wishes to spend his life with, who he wants to rule over Narnia with.

"You seem upset," Her cool fingers rubbing between his furrowed brows, smoothing the wrinkles by making him relax slightly.

"Just thinking."

He takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it.

"Tell me what's troubling you," She says, sitting on the arm of his chair, cradling his hand in her lap.

"My own impatience," He sighs, looking up at her, "I want you by my side."

"I am, silly," She bumps him with her hip and he chuckles.

"In everything," He clarifies, "In life, as my queen, my other half, and I yours."

"You have many suitors, My King," She reminds him.

He groans, slumping back in his desk chair, "Yes, I know. And much of Narnia to reunite."

"Would it not be easier for everyone if I had the matter of my marriage settled so we could all focus on bringing peace to Narnia?"

"Romantic," She teases.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do," She kisses the top of his head, muttering into his hair, "And I share the sentiment."

"You're Majesty- Oh! I-I apologize."

They both look to the door where Reepicheep is standing, flustered, gold ringlet between his paws.

"I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's alright, Reep," Caspian chuckles, motioning him in, "What did you need?"

The mouse quickly climbs up onto his desk and bows to them.

"My lady."

She bows her head to him in return and he turns to Caspian.

"Your Majesty, your advisors are gathered in the war room. They wish to discuss with you about the Giants of the North."

Caspian lets out another sigh, looking over at Beretta longingly. He'd much rather spend his time with her.

"I'll be around should you need me," She promises, finger tilting his chin up at her. She kisses his forehead and wanders out of his study.

"You know, Your Majesty," Reep says, "Some traditions are meant to be changed.

Reepicheep's words stick with him and before he knows it, it's the night of the Christmas Ball.

He adjusts the collar of his jacket, grimacing at the color in the mirror.

The dark, piney green is definitely festive, but not a color he would have chosen for himself. This is what he gets for leaving all the decisions up to his tailor.

Normally, he would be looking forward to a night of levity and merriment, but not tonight, because that's not what tonight will be for him. No, tonight he meets the rest of his suitors, all those who were unable to join them at the castle previously will be gathered at the ball.

He'll be expected to greet, mingle, and dance with each of them as the night goes on. The only thing keeping him from sneaking away outright is that he'll be able to share, hopefully several, dances with Beretta.

The party has barely started and he finds himself already overwhelmed with the people wanting to speak with him.

He's courteous and kind as they bombard him, and it's only by happenstance that he notices Beretta enter.

Her earthy greens and browns are changed to a beautiful wintery blue for the night, with a white bust above the corset, flowing sleeves, and gold trimmings.

Link

He doesn't even realize he's trailed off mid-sentence until the duke he's conversing with speaks up.

He finds himself distracted as he makes his first round about the ballroom, his eyes drifting to wherever she may be.

By the time he finally makes his way to her, he's desperate to be near her.

"My King," She greets when he approaches her. She bows to him, standing on ceremony in the bustling ballroom.

Before she can rise to face him he gathers her hands in his, pulling them up to his lips.

"I have missed you today, Lamb," He mutters against her skin.

"Caspian," She chastises quietly, pulling her hands from his, "You can't do that here."

Her cheeks are pink and he wants nothing more than to kiss them.

She looks up at him with warm yet sympathetic eyes.

"Please," He bends at the hip in a small bow, offering his hand, "Join me for my first dance of the night?"

She bites back the grin fighting its way to her face, smiling politely with a small nod, "I would be honored, My King."

She melts at the way his face lights up when she takes his hand.

"Caspian," She mutters as he leads her to the middle of the room. Nearly all eyes are on them, and she's suddenly aware that the musicians are playing quiet melodies, barely audible over the chatter. He doesn't seem to notice as he turns her to face him, "No one is dancing."

"That's one of the great things about being king," He says, wrapping his arm around her waist, "If I wish to dance..."

The music picks up into a waltz and they fall into step together.

He feels himself able to breathe again, getting lost in the feel of her touch. Her closeness is suffocating in its own way but he wouldn't have it any other way.

He grips her hips, feeling the give of her fur beneath the silk of the gown, and lifts her up with a twirl.

The back of her hand trails down the side of his face as he sets her back on her feet.

Her eyes are so soft and her hands are so warm on his shoulders, he can't stop himself from leaning down to press his lips to hers.

He worries he's done something wrong when she quickly pulls away, eyes wide in shock.

"I'm sorry," He whispers, but before he can stand straight again she takes his face in her hands, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

Their feet still as he cups the back of her neck, keeping her close.

The crowd and world around them fall away and months of yearning come to a head.

Her lips are just as soft as the rest of her as they move against his. He forgets himself, forgets where they are, and presses their chest closer together.

His pupils are blown wide when he pulls away, turning his already dark eyes to pitch.

"My love," He breathes, a small smile playing on his lips, "I fear I may die if I ever stop kissing you."

She grins up at him, butterflies dancing in her stomach, "Caspian, I-"

"My King," A woman interrupts, shattering their little bubble.

They turn to see Georgiana in her bright red dress with too many ruffles and petticoats, her hair curled and piled high on her head, adorned with holly leaves.

"Lady Georgiana," Caspian nods.

Retta all but hides her face against his shoulder, not ready to relinquish their moment.

"My father would like a moment of your time, Your Majesty," She curtsies.

Torn again between his duty as a king and his longing to stay beside her, he sighs.

Beretta's face falls when he steps back, trying to keep her hurt from showing as he bows to her.

It doesn't work. The pain in her eyes breaks his heart.

"Thank you for the dance, My Lady."

He swallows hard when she bows back, "My King."

The night drags on for hours and he's unable to speak to her since their kiss.

As the party winds down and guests start to filter from the ballroom to their suites, he searches for her in the crowd.

When he can't find her he takes to her room, hesitating outside her door for a moment before knocking.

"Caspian?" She asks when she sees him.

"Did I offend you?" He asks worridly, referencing to their moment on the dance floor, his eyes wandering her body and the long satin nightgown clinging to her curves.

"No," Her eyes narrow in confusion and she reaches up to place her hand on his cheek, "Why would you think so?"

"You disappeared without saying goodnight."

"I was tired," She admits, "And you seemed occupied. I didn't wish to pull you away from anything important."

He leans into her touch, lips grazing the edge of her palm, eyes falling shut.

"You look exhausted."

"I am," He mumbles, "May I come in?"

"You know I would never deny your company, My King," Her voice is quiet.

"But?"

"But... I think it's best you take to bed."

He forces his eyes to open, placing his hand over the one on his cheek.

"And what if I wish to spend the evening with you, Lamb?"

"Caspian..." She coos, letting him back her into her chambers, door shutting behind him before he kisses her softly.

He smiles against her lips when she lifts onto her toes to get closer to him.

She grips the raised collar of his jacket when he moves to pull away.

"This night without you on my arm has been torture, my love," He breathes.

She bumps his nose with hers, a small whine coming from the back of her throat. She couldn't agree more. Seeing him be fawned over by dozens of gorgeous, powerful women made her feel as though a vice had been strangling her heart.

"Beautiful, wonderful, lovely..." He murmurs against her lips and cheeks, his hands warm on her neck and collarbone.

"Caspian," Her fingers weave into his hair, pulling strands from their tie and tilting his face up to look at her.

Her expression is soft as she gazes warmly at him. His hands fall to her hips, his breath shuddering when she leans forward, lightly kissing the spot between his eyes.

"My queen..."

His voice is barely audible, but her sensitive ears hear the loving sigh and she laughs, "I don't believe I hold that title, love."

"Not yet, but... someday."

She blinks at him in surprise. Is this a proposal? "Cas..."

"Someday..."

#king caspian #prince caspian #caspian x #Caspian x oc #Black Sheep #prisma self ships #self ship story #prisma writes #narnia #the chronicles of narnia

[yanderu-deredere]

Yeong-bae 'Gaia' Eres Kigal ★ picrew link

gender: non-binary he/they sexuality: demisexual age: 22 height: 6'1 body notes: He has a more square body like a ballet dancer. Very lithe. He has a couple of moles all over his body. He has two lobe piercings, three cartilage piercings and a helix piercing in each ear. He has a very old scar on his chest, spanning from his left collar bone, all the way to the very centre, right where his sternum is.

type of yandere: Dependent Yandere

these types of yandere are emotionally dependent on their darling. usually, it’s because they either didn’t receive the love that they crave from their darling or because their darling makes them feel emotions they’ve never felt before. either way, these types of yandere crave being around their darling almost 24/7 to make sure they can continue to have this love or these emotions.

Yeong-bae has never been on the receiving end of anyone's sole attention before. He's always been the middle ground; not exactly the most hated but not exactly the most liked either. He's always been just Yeong-bae, always there, just hanging around, barely noticed. So if someone appeared, someone to maybe notice him just enough to give him a little bit of a rush, to give enough attention that it makes his heart flutter? Well, he doesn't know what to do with that information. In fact, he doesn't know what he'd do if that person tried to get away.

likes: photography, japanese and korean street fashion, asian pop and synth music, coffee and baked goods, street food, cats dislikes: nosy people, songs with a bad beat, foods that are too sweet, big bodies of water

Yeong-bae is the bass guitarist and sub vocalist of the hit band 'Acatalepsy'. They're the number one boy band from one of the most admired entertainment companies not just in Lovelock but in the entire world, Merak Entertainment. They debuted three years ago and, since then, their popularity has only skyrocketed. There used to be five members but now there's only four. Still they have a dedicated fanbase and even more dedicated members.

Each of the of the band has a nickname and Yeong-bae's nickname is Gaia because of the planet they correspond to is supposed to be Earth. Personality-wise, it's supposed to match as well; they're pretty mellow, down-to-Earth (lol) and generally hard-working. A lot of fans tend to like them because of this.

However, they've famously been a middle ground for a lot of fans. They're not the least liked but they're not the most either. They've never had an issue with it, of course, but the band members always tried to stop any bad rumors about Yeong-bae ever since the fifth member of their band had to leave.

Yeong-bae was born as the third child out of five. He has an older brother, an older sister and two younger sisters. He never got along with a lot of them, unfortunately, or with his parents, so, once he was old enough, he moved to Lovelock to try his luck and make it big. Thankfully, he did make it big and managed to get a job at Merak Entertainment before becoming the bass guitarist to a pretty popular band.

Now, he spends most of his time with the band. Soren, the lead guitarist, is his best friend and the two are almost always seen together. Its known by their common friends and acquaintances that Yeong-bae has a huge crush on him. Yeong-bae also spends a lot of time with the other two members of the band. Other than that, he spends most of his time alone in cafes or just walking around by himself. If he's not working on band stuff, he's taking photographs of scenery or reading a book, things like that.

sexual preference: submissive verse turn ons: photography (giving/receiving), video taking (giving/receiving), voyeurism (giving), semi-public sex, sex-toys (giving/receiving), pegging (receiving), oral (giving), somnophilia (giving/receiving), size difference

dick size: 9in

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #nonbinary yandere #yandere #oc x reader #nonbinary oc #yeongbae #lemony content #about the yandere

[shadamytrash777]

Black Tea

Chapter Four

Picrew

A03 link

Shadow watched the bustling street below from his apartment window with a nervous air around him. On this cold Sunday morning instead of being back in bed sleeping until noon Shadow was waiting to be picked up by a pink-haired barista. They were going to the Flea Market. Remodeling the café had become a bigger task than both of them had originally thought. A weekend project turned into a month project. Not that he necessarily minded, it was obvious he enjoyed her company, he couldn’t hide it very well since he barely enjoys anyone’s company. Even Rouge tip-toed on the thin ice of his patience sometimes. Speak of the devil and she shall emerge from her room and groggily stomp to the coffee pot.

Rouge prepared a large surgery cup before noticing her roomate. She pulled a smirk, already knowing who Shadow was waiting for. 

“Excited?” Rouge asked. 

“No.” He turned from looking out the window. 

“Apprehensive?” She teased wiggling an eyebrow. 

“Yes, exactly….” Shadow huffed, throwing his hands in the air as he turned to look out the window. “She’s late. I despise being late.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, I promise the flea market will still let you in.” 

Shadow sighed in response. Rouge could see he was worried, in moments like this she really could tell how much older she was than him. Shadow was an adult and yet, he was still inexperienced with people. 

“You’ll do fine. She already likes you enough to let you tear apart her whole café.” Rouge chuckled trying to reassure him. 

A beat of silence passed between the two, Shadow was too worried to come up with a reply. Suddenly a loud honk surprised both of them. 

“I think she’s here.” Rouge smiled watching her friend fret around looking for his keys. “Good luck kid.”

Shadow walked to the rusty hatch-back parked on the street, observing Amy as he did so. She wore her hair down today, it reached her mid-back and looked like pink sunrise ocean waves. As he opened the side door he noticed the smaller female sitting in the back seat, completely draped in black. She was wearing earbuds and stared out the window ignoring him. 

“Hey stranger!” Amy smiled and waved at Shadow. 

“Hello Amelia,” He looked behind her with curious and nervous eyes. He had never been good with kids. “Hello, I’m Shadow. You can blame me for wrecking the café.”

With an annoyed look Cream removed an earbud and muttered a greeting back. “Sup, I’m Cream. I know who you are already.”

Amy gave an awkward giggle and pulled the car into the street. “I’ve been talking about you to her.” She paused, “Not that i’ve been talking badly, all good things I swear!” 

Shadow already felt a smile creeping onto his face, the drive had been quick with lots of small talk. Even though he usually hated talking about the tiny insignificant details of everyday life, talking to Amy came easy and without the invisible social rules that he tended to struggle with. Though she mostly leads the conversation jumping from topic to topic not really giving Shadow much of a chance to respond.

Amy pulled into the large gravel parking lot with a mission to get a good parking space, it took two rounds of circling but she finally found a spot that would be close enough to be convenient later. 

“Alright, are we ready?” Amy asked excitedly, turning off the car. 

“To be dragged around all day in the cold when I could’ve been sleeping in? Oh yeah, I’m so ready.” Cream said, rolling her eyes as she got out of the car. 

“Sorry kiddo, I promise next weekend we’ll stay in.” Amy said emphatically. 

“I’m not a kid!” Cream huffed.

“Sorry!” Amy closed her car door with a little too much force causing all three to flinch. Amy cursed at herself knowing she was being sensitive and venting her frustrations would only make things worse. “I’m sorry.” She said again this time with a softer tone.

“Whatever.” The small girl popped her earbuds back in, going back to ignoring Amy and Shadow. 

Shadow watched Amy’s shoulders sag as she sighed, she looked more tired than he had initially noticed. Before he got the chance to confort or ask her about it she already was making her way towards the entrance. Shadow and Cream followed closely behind. Shadow did his best to ignore the feeling he was being watched, Cream was observing him with an intense gaze. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he didn’t want to find out and potentially cause more problems today. 

The market had been bigger than Shadow had expected, rows and rows of pop-up tents and venders stretched across the large field. Clothing racks lined the first half of the left side, it looked mostly vintage from what he could see. It piqued his interest and surprisingly it seemed it also peaked Cream’s, the blonde girl meandered over to a rack of leather jackets. 

Cream’s face lit up as she began to sort through the rack, though she was trying very hard to hide her excitement. Amy took notice and immediately watched with the eyes of a hawk, she tried to look casual, if she looked too interested Cream would get upset.

“Oh my,” Cream gasped, “This is badass.”

“Language!” Amy said firmly. “What is it? Do you like that one?” 

Cream wiped the smile from her face and slowly took the hanger from the rack. It was a simple black cropped motorcycle jacket, she turned the hanger showing that the back said ‘FLOWER POWER’.  

“It’s alright,” Cream said flatly. 

“Do you want it?” Amy reached over and checked the tag. “It’s pretty decently priced and looks warm. I’ll get it for you.” She smiled. 

“No,” She quickly hung the jacket back up. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Amy asked.

Shadow watched her eyes flicker back to the jacket and then down to the ground. Perhaps Cream was worried about money, from his own first hand experience Amy wasn’t the best at hiding that sort of thing. He had a tugging feeling Cream didn’t want any money spent on her today. 

“Um,” Shadow spoke up, grabbing their attention. “I’ll get it for you. I was planning on acquiring one for myself anyways.”

“What? No, no. I can’t have you do that.” Amy jumped and shook her head quickly back and forth. 

“Please,” Shadow looked at Cream, knowing her opinion mattered most. “It’s a buy one, get one half off. It’ll be perfect. Consider it an apology for putting the café in chaos.” He gestured to the sale sign above the rack. “I insist, I would be more than happy.”

Cream finally had a real bashful smile spread on her lips, she nodded and turned to Amy. “I deserve this apology.” 

“I-,” Amy glanced between the two and sighed. “Alright, if you really insist.”  

He nodded and turned his attention back to the rack. Amy watched him with a soft smile stuck on her lips, Cream and Shadow continued to look through the clothes side by side. Occasionally showing the other an interesting find, silently of course, Amy laughed to herself, here they looked like two peas in a pod. 

“What kind of jacket are you going to get?” She leaned over his shoulder to look at his current pick. 

Shadow froze up feeling Amy so close, he stumbled over his words. “This one is different from the one I already have,” He held up the hanger for a better view, it was a long and minimalistic leather trench coat. “I don’t know how I feel about it, but I keep coming back to it.” 

“Try it on. Here I’ll hold your coat,” Amy took the hanger and held out her arm for him. “If you keep coming back to it, that obviously means you like it.” Amy paused after those words came out of her mouth, something about that statement hung in her gut and made her heart flutter. He kept coming back to the café and it wasn’t to stretch to say he was coming back to see her. Maybe he likes me? Amy immediately pushed down all the emotions that arose from that thought, it was all too complicated to deal with currently. 

“Yeah, try it on…” Cream said quietly, nodding in agreement. 

Shadow shed off his studded jacket and plopped it onto Amy, she stumbled slightly not expecting it to be heavy. “Jeez, what are you carrying around rocks in here?” She teased.

“Yes,” Shadow said without hesitation and with sincerity. He watched her face twist, confused and then gestured to his pocket. “Go ahead, look.” 

Amy reached into the pocket and pulled out a large chunk of white quartz. “Oh my god, you weren't kidding!” She burst into laughter shaking her head. 

“Wow, you’re weird.” Cream stared at the crystal. “I can see why you like him, Amy.” She teased and smirked up at the pink-haired women.

“Hey, that’s not very nice.” Amy said in a hushed whisper, her face turned a similar shade to her rosy hair. 

“It’s true, don’t concern yourself. I take no offense.” Shadow softly smiled and looked away, looking at her in this moment made his heart feel tight. She likes me! He slid on the trench coat and looked down at himself. The pair inspected his outfit, Cream nodded in approval while Amy covered her mouth subtly hiding a shy smile.

“You look like a guy from that one movie,” Cream rubbed her chin deep in thought. “If you put on your sunglasses it would be identical.” 

Amy never really considered Shadow’s sense of style before. She usually saw him on his way to work and he wore pretty much the same thing everyday, black slacks and dark colored silk shirts in varying shades of black and red. Or if he was dressed for working at the café it was black jeans with a simple dark band t-shirt. However today he must have dressed for himself, layered necklaces and stacked rings, silver chains draped along his side, topped off with large chunky boots that had a slight heel. The coat on top was perfect. She admired the outfit for a little longer, collecting her thoughts.  

“You look good一I mean it looks good, the jacket.” Amy said, fumbling over herself. “Not to say you don't look good, you do! You look handsome,” She quickly stopped herself from anything more, her cheeks couldn’t handle the embarrassment any longer.

“Thank you, I’ll get it then.” Shadow looked away, he couldn’t tell if it was just his imagination, or if she was really flustered. Whatever it was; made him really happy. 

The rest of the day was spent looking for objects for the café, new art and tableware were the main objective. Cream was sporting her new jacket, happy to carry her old puffer coat under her arm, she seemed to be in a better mood. Now she only had one earbud in to ignore them. Amy would happily take this as a small win.

~

Previous chapter/Next chapter

AN: thank you for reading! Please tell me what you think :3

#shadamy #shadow x amy #shadamy fanfiction #shadamy black tea #sonic fanfiction #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #black tea shadamy #shadamy au

[transmasc-wizard]

Making Writblr More Accessible

Hello, all! I'm Nico, your local disabled writer. Specifically, I am (loudly) autistic, as well as coming to terms with the chronic pain that's been following me for a few months. I am also an advocate for accessibility in writblr, because it is unfortunately lacking.

I am not the leader of knowing what accessibility looks like, of course--for instance, while I do wear glasses, my vision is not nearly as affected as anyone considered legally blind and I do not know everything there is to know about being accessible for that. I don't know what it's like to be disabled in ways I'm not, but I do know a lot about accessibility due to spending time in disabled communities, and I want to share that knowledge.

I'll split this into images & GIFs, fonts, blogs, community, and "in conclusion". I'll mostly just talk about blatant inaccessibility, but the community section will discuss community attitudes and behaviours as well.

(The rest of the post will be under a keep reading, for length reasons.)

Images & GIFs.

An undescribed image or GIF is an inaccessible image or GIF. There are blind and visually impaired tumblr users who rely on screen readers, but screen readers cannot read images.

[ID: a photo of Grumpy Cat lying down and looking at the camera. She is white and brown. /end ID.]

There are two ways to do IDs; adding them in the alt text, and adding them in the body of the post. I did both with this image.

An image description should be as short and useful as possible, so the person who needs it gets a good idea of what is in the image but is not overloaded with pointless information. (E.g., I did not describe Grumpy Cat's exact ear shape.) You also should not use tumblr's small text for your ID; more on that in "fonts".

Some images are more complicated than others, and will require a longer ID. You still want to follow the same general rules, though. Keep it simple, but make sure you put in all the important info.

[ID: a two-panel Grumpy Cat meme. In the first panel, an orange tabby cat is smiling and the text reads "smiles are contagious!".

In the second panel, Grumpy Cat is looking over at the first panel, and the text reads "don't worry, I'm vaccinated." /end ID.]

This is an example of a slightly more complicated image.

You want to describe memes, screenshotted tags, picrews, WIP intro powerpoints, GIFs... basically anything that is not normal text. Additionally, you should tag for GIFs ("#gif tw" and "#gif warning") as the sudden flashing and/or movement can risk triggering epileptic seizures.

Fonts.

This overlaps with both the "images & GIFs" section and "blogs" section, so I figured I might as well make it it's own thing.

Some fonts are more accessible than others, both in regards to size and design. This link right here leads to an article about what makes a font more readable, as well as a list of accessible fonts.

Generally, you want a larger font for your blog's desktop layout, as they're easier to read. You also want to use tumblr's regular font when posting; this small text is very difficult to read for many people with vision issues. [Translation: "this small text is very difficult to read for many people with vision issues." /end translation.] Personally, as someone with glasses partly for headaches, attempting to read small text always sets one off. (That's why you shouldn't use it for IDs, either.)

Some dyslexia-friendly and readable fonts include: Arial, Comic Sans, Dyslexie, Helvetica, and Century Gothic, though there are many others. When in doubt of a font's accessibility, look it up!

Blogs

I've had personal inaccessibility difficulties with both previous elements, but this one is really the one that frequently bites me. When designing their desktop blog appearances, people often just consider what looks cool to them, as opposed to what's accessible.

Blog accessibility is important in writblr in particular because when you put any writing or intros under a keep reading, it will redirect to your blog directly. This means your blog layout should be accessible for people with sensory issues, dyslexia, and low vision.

[ID: a screenshot of my blog's desktop layout. It is eggdesign's "iconic" theme, customized. The background is a plain light blue, the posts are white with dark blue font, each post has a yellow border, and the font is arial. /end ID.]

I customized blog's layout to accommodate my own autism-born sensory hypersensitivity and mild visual impairment (needing glasses). The colours are contrasting, which is important for readability, but not overly saturated, which is important for sensory issues. The font is at the normal size with no embellishments.

[ID: @.wherearetheplants' desktop blog layout. Is is the default tumblr theme. The background is plain beige, the posts are white with black font, and the title and bio are brown. /end ID.]

@wherearetheplants is a good example of a well-contrasting but not cluttered or oversaturated blog theme!! (& check him out, he's cool.)

[ID: @.inaccessible-blog-example's first layout. The background is bright green with bright pink accents, and the only post contains one paragraph in small text and one in curvy text. /end ID.]

[ID: @.inaccessible-blog-example's second layout. All the colours are very similar shades of purple, and the only post contains one paragraph in small text and one paragraph in curvy text. /end ID.]

These are two examples of what an inaccessible blog theme may look like; I know I personally would not be able to read anything on either of them for longer than maybe two minutes.

Community

If you want disabled people to feel welcome here, not only should you strive for basic accessibility, but you should also actually think about your internal biases and assumptions and whether you're actually considering disabled people in your day-to-day interaction with the writblr community.

Are you giving disabled & mentally ill traits (psychosis, low empathy, canes, scars, DID, etc) to exclusively villain characters? Are you using words like "narcissist", "psychopath", and "psychotic" as an insult? Are you equating being disabled with being pitiable, inspiring, tragic, or dangerous in how you talk about and portray us? Are you uplifting disabled voices? Are you calling out ableism when you see it, and backing up disabled people who do so? Are you thinking about and deconstructing your personal biases against disabled people?

Asking yourself those questions is important. Examining your behaviour is important. For writblr to be truly accessible, the abled people involved must be willing to take the time to actually alter ableist and saneist behaviours.

In Conclusion

Two final notes:

One. I love writblr. This long-as-hell post is a labor of love, because even though this community has issues, I genuinely love it. I would not be making this post if I thought it was pointless. I think a lot of people aren't being malicious, they just genuinely don't know about these things.

Two. I'm not perfect, and I don't expect anyone to be. We all fuck up, including disabled people ourselves. That doesn't make you a bad person or a bad ally--what matters is that you try, and that when you do make a mistake, you own up to it and try to fix it the best you can.

I hope this was helpful, and if anyone has other comments, feel free to add on.

#writblr #writeblr #writerblr #accessibility #disability #nicola.txt

[asterdotash]

ok this needs context

i'm part of the tabletop/d&d club at my uni, we're a pretty big club all things considered and we have most communication through a discord server for members

in said discord server there's an art channel, where people put creative things they have made to show off to other club members

this is where it gets.... questionable

someone, one day, decided that picrews should be shared in the art channel, not the general media channel (which is used for videos, images and music links).

this has lead to the art channel being swarmed with people sending their version of the picrew after a link to one has been sent.

here's my issue, i posted a picrew link earlier today, along with the image i made with it (it was a cutesy icon maker, one i hadn't seen before).

a few hours pass and i post some art i had drawn, along with a timelapse my art software had created as i was drawing.

people only responded to the picrew. in fact the picrew sparked a new conversation about some earrings someone had made.

i don't mean to discredit the person who makes earrings but... the person who made the picrew wasn't in the server. they had no idea i had shared a link to it. i was there though. and i had made something that i was proud of and no one responded

not a single response

not even a reaction

eventually i sent a message about this and i have since gotten one (1) heart reaction.

i don't want to complain about not getting attention, i don't want to be bitchy about it but... it hurts y'know. i know these people irl it's not the same as not getting any notes on a tumblr post. i thought they would boost me up or something...

#vent #rant #aster rambles

[riddlerlesbian]

ygo oc week

day 3: deck

picrew link

Hono is an owl-like alien who runs the Mutsuba Town Library. Most of the residents don’t know that he is an alien because he wears a lot of loose clothes to cover it. At night, however, he likes to wander about without disguises, leading to occasional sightings of a strange monster, which several people have started associating with moths for some reason… This inspired Hono to duel with an insect-themed deck.

little drabble under the cut as per usual

@ygoc-week

Aliens love Rush Duels. This is a fact. They swept across the universe so quickly and brought aliens together by giving them something to bond over that they all shared. No matter what planet they come from or how far they are from home, Rush Duels gives them that special connection.  Hono loved Rush Duels, too, but he had never played. That’s why he lived on the surface of Mutsuba Town, instead of in the underground, where most of the aliens lived.

He had just never felt that special connection with cards that you’re supposed to have. Someone gave him a card with an owl on it once, live his home nebula, but it didn’t feel right.

The library has lots of decks that people can borrow to play quietly with in the game room. Hono likes to watch when he’s not too busy restocking shelves. He asks kids lots of questions to get to know who they are, so he can help them find a deck that suits them. Their eyes always sparkle when their fingers first brush against the card that matches their heart.

Working in the human library can be tiring and hiding that he’s an alien gets especially hot in the summer. Hono explores the town at night, when he can really be himself.

Not many humans see him, but the ones that do get frightened.

Mothman is a harbinger of disaster, as it turns out.

Good thing that Hono is just an Auwel. But he can see the resemblance. The tufts of his feathers look like antennae in the shadows.

He’s putting away the insect deck, making sure all the cards are still there, eyes lingering on Swapinning Silkworm Fibellon.

Hono has finally found his deck.

#hnak vs ygo #ygo oc week

[house-of-mirrors]

I’ve finished the long awaited bio post for the third of my player characters, Miles! I’ve mentioned them before, my horrible son, spaghetti noodle of a human being, character with which I make evil choices to see text. You may send a calling card to The Remorseful Apprentice, or you may find the old profile of The Avid Occultist. Here is the Picrew link

Why do I have two versions of the same character? Short answer, I missed them too much after knocking so here we are.

Quick facts:

·      Miles symbolizes the corruption of high society in the Victorian Era. They were born into a wealthy family and grew up with entitlement and imperialistic views in what I’ve heard my grandfather call “the age of arrogance.” The world is theirs, and it’s their right to have whatever they want. Given the choice between pursuit of power and anything else, they will always choose power. External corruption with the red science and seeking reflects internal and generational corruption.

·      “No shame, no spine, no self-awareness”

·      If asked to choose a gender option on a form, they would circle all of them. They’re not too particular with pronouns and sometimes use he/him, but I most often use they/them for Miles. Distinctly a femme presentation. Miles and Orsinio are mtf/ftm hostility.

·      They are somewhere on the autism spectrum; it manifests as touch aversion and a difficulty in making real friends despite being a social butterfly. Touch aversion somewhat plays into them being aromantic, but they genuinely have no interest in it. Miles gets the badge of being my one allosexual OC.

·      Miles greatly struggles with mental health, much of which comes from family trauma, and being in the Neath makes that a ticking time bomb. If they had therapy and antidepressants, the whole tragedy could have been averted. TW ahead for darker discussion of mental illness, SMEN typical self-harm.

Now, I can’t explain why Miles is a villain without explaining how their actions affect the rest of the plot, so this “bio” is more of a whole summary of a narrative arc. Under the cut became more or less a mini fic, so FYI that it is longer than usual for my character posts. Also includes some mentions of my friend's characters. For someone who complains about SMEN so much, I sure did base a significant chunk of my OC stories around it, didn’t I? Tragic. (The themes of temptation lured me in, and when I realized how much I didn’t like it, I was already too committed to the story, alas.)

You may wonder as you read, “Hey, why does Miles’ story include so much about Orsinio?” Well, Miles thinks they’re a main character, but they’re actually a side character. You may also wonder, how does having two versions of the same character with wildly conflicting ambitions work in the timeline? No single thing shall be a single thing. Major spoilers ahead for SMEN (including vague detail about the hate ending) and the discordance, as well as all ambitions.

Early Story

·      The Lovelace family made its fortune in the textiles industry. Incredibly dysfunctional with the detached parenting typical of the time within the leisure class. Neither of their parents is great, but Miles mostly has daddy issues:tm:. There are also large age gaps between the children; Miles is the second youngest and only close to their younger sister, Marguerite

·      Negative attention is still attention which leads to Miles getting involved in multiple scandals. It also isn’t a good look for Miles to not yet be married or engaged, which they’re really uncomfortable with, being aromantic. The final straw is a gambling debt, after which their father, Julian, disowns them until they make something respectable of themself

·      Miles has heard rumors about the Neath and decides to go to try to make their fortune. Before leaving, Marguerite gives them her necklace and asks them to be safe for her

·      Soon after arriving, Miles learns about the Marvellous. They need a path to attain their own fortune and power, and this is a promised road to rising the ranks. They say they’re doing this to prove themself, but really, they’re only throwing themself into their vices. I follow the interpretation that Heart’s Desire is a metaphor for addiction.

·      At a bohemian event, Miles meets a Professor. Orsinio tries to be mentoring to a new arrival, but Miles is prickly and pro-monarchy and they part bitterly, though Miles does become close to their mutual friend, Elliot

Seven is the Number

·      As Miles progresses through the Marvellous, they begin to hear a voice in their head telling them they can have much more power than the Masters can offer. The voice comes with troubling dreams and lapses in memory. When they wake up covered in blood in the bushes outside a salon, Elliot tells them to talk to Orsinio

·      Orsinio isn’t too happy to see them, but is very willing to help. He was at Avid Horizon during Nemesis and knows what it’s like to feel that pull. (He claims he no longer feels it.) Miles is briefly his student in the lab and generally is very poor at it, refusing to listen and not doing much of anything. Eventually, they leave when they realize they can’t gain anything they want here. Orsinio is irked and genuinely wanted to help, but he can’t force anyone to do anything.

·      Miles’ condition continues to worsen, plagued by compulsions to eat strange things and nightmares of knives and drowning. They wonder, can you really get hurt in a dream, and can it scar in real life? They are genuinely scared, but they’ve never learned how to ask for help. They confide their worries in a letter to Elliot on a drunk evening, at their wit’s end with exhaustion.

·      Their own family didn’t want them, but this voice does. They feel like it’s wrong to accept the voice, and they’ve been told not to by their friends, but if they give into it, they can finally sleep.

·      No one hears from Miles for some time after this. They go off the grid with weeping scars, memories of chains, and stains on the soul. One could make the argument that Miles, the real Miles, is dead after the first time they stab themself (second weeping scar). I as the player was not invested in SMEN and therefore Miles wasn’t either; it functions primarily as a MacGuffin.

·      The person who returns to society is very much not like Miles used to be. This person is even more charismatic and does much more physical contact, compelling enough to entrap people for St Arthur’s Candle. They adopt a seemingly carefree attitude, why worry when all shall be well?

·      Miles becomes a silverer, inspired by interpreting their strange dreams and promised power from the fingerkings. They use these dream interpretations to amass a small cult following of fellow seekers.

Miles, you could have just Asked him to Dinner

·      At a working lunch with an affectionate devil, Orsinio is told what Miles did to their soul. He rushes home to pen an urgent warning to his friends, but finds Miles inside, waiting for him in his study chair. Miles speaks highly of his work, apologizing for not appreciating it properly when they were a student. They come interested in his unpublished work. He’s one of the few who has seen the Avid Horizon. Won’t he tell them more? Orsinio firmly denies Miles, but they leave with the self-confidence this isn’t the end of it. Once they’re gone, he walks outside right back to the affectionate devil and makes a deal for his soul. If he doesn’t have it, he can’t give into temptation to seek. Orsinio has finished railway at this point and tried to convince himself he was okay, that he was past this, but he isn’t.

·      Miles progresses through candles B through E without much fanfare. At the Carnival at Midnight, they claim to be seeking for love, a love they never got from their family, or a love for their enemy, the Professor.

Poor Choices are Made in HD

·      The end of the Marvellous rolls around. Miles makes as many scummy decisions as possible, choosing not to help the topsy king, condemning the cardsharp monkey, though they do hesitate, just for a moment, with Beechwood’s chance. They say they’re playing the Marvellous for themself, but they know deep down they’re still having feelings about their father. This is a chance to give all of that up, make a new life for themself, heal from past trauma. But no, they came this far. They’re not giving it all up for a moment of emotional weakness.  

·      Miles becomes Mr Cards. Isn’t this what they wanted? The first time they meet with Mr Hearts for red science, they feel deep down they’ve made a terrible mistake. Being a Master doesn’t seem good at all. They need something else, but what is it? (Genuine connections with people?) They need to go North.

Clown on Clown Violence 

·      Miles comes to Orsinio yet again, asking him to join them in seeking. He’s so smart and he’s been marked by the northern wind, why won’t he? He can finally have revenge against all the Masters, against the system that enabled Cups to kill his brother. Orsinio refutes with compassion, telling Miles their sister wouldn’t want to lose them. Miles, the real Miles, almost breaks through, their sister ever a soft spot for them. They admit they’re afraid of what they’ve become and they don’t want her to see them like this. Orsinio extends another olive branch, telling Miles it isn’t too late to turn around. But Miles, as always, choses pursuit of grandeur

·      By this point, Miles has become truly obsessed with this enemy they can’t break, not only with the madness that comes of seeking but with possessive behavior that comes from becoming a Master. (Or, Miles, you could have apologized for being rude and asked him to dinner) When Orsinio still won’t bite, Miles threatens to target his friends/found family instead, both Elliot and Lucy.

·      What plays out is a long, regrettable, and, if we’re being honest, a bit pathetic struggle between Miles and Orsinio. Orsinio’s logic isn’t good logic, but it is logic. He thinks there’s no fate worse than going North, even death or injury, so tries poisoning Miles a few times to get them to stop one way or another. Miles isn’t offended but milks the incidents to make Orsinio appear like the villain and turn others against him. Mail fraud is a significant contributor to how things fall apart; Miles begins intercepting letters, isolating Orsinio and each of his friends from each other.

·      Meanwhile, Miles is getting closer to Elliot, claiming to be their only real friend left and trying to drag them into seeking. (Elliot finishes Light Fingers and gets a child to protect so that comes to a quick end, fortunately.)

·      Despite all that’s transpired, Orsinio keeps getting drawn back to Miles. He tells himself it’s determination to stop them for the greater good. What he doesn’t realize is that Miles already got inside his head with seeking which is the real reason he won’t let the topic go. There comes the darkest hour in which he nearly scars himself but is stopped by his student mentee. 

I Want that Twink Obliterated

·      Orsinio comes to realize he’s indulging the same reckless behavior he did during Nemesis that nearly sent him down the dark road of seeking at the time. He pens a letter to Lucy confessing all he’s kept to himself thus far. He reflects that recklessness can be a manifestation of addictive tendencies, then he remembers who he’s fighting, the Master of Gambling. He realizes how he’s been played a little bit too late.

·      Orsinio is strong-minded and normally wouldn’t have fallen for such manipulations, but he’s been worn down for a long time by Miles preying on his paranoia and guilt. Nightmares 7. He goes to pursue Miles one last time to put an end to this once and for all, but walks into a set-up. Miles drags their final confrontation to Parabola where they have an advantage as a silverer. Orsinio does not win and spends some time in the Royal Beth afterward.

·      Orsinio’s student manages to get word of the truth to his friends. Lucy puts Miles in their place through varying violent means and then goes to be with Orsinio. Both of them promise to each other to be better communicators. Lucretia also comes to the Neath during this time to help in the crisis, but more on her story later in her own bio.

NORTH

·      Elliot learns the truth of what Miles did and feels betrayed. Miles sends a final letter. They’re not sorry for what they did, nor are they sure why they did it. Elliot was the last thing they had left to lose, and this whole chess game ensured they would lose Elliot. Now, they’re prepared to go North. First, they must go South, but they will go North.

·      What Parabola and the fingerkings could offer wasn’t enough. Winning the Marvellous and getting the chance to become a Master wasn’t enough. Miles almost considered throwing their lot in with liberationists, so that after the revolution they could seize power in a vacuum, but they didn’t pursue that route. They’ll never be satisfied as long as there’s a higher station to rise to.

·      Miles is unable to live with what they’ve become. They cut off their hair for St Gawain’s Candle, and when they look in the mirror, they only imagine a photograph of Julian as a younger man. They reflect on all the horrific deeds they’ve done and all the people they hurt to get where they are now, and they realize they became just like their father. Beyond the gates is a place they’ll finally be free of him. (Who is the real villain of the story? Julian Lovelace is.)

·      Had they chosen any other ambition ending than power, they would not have gone North. The gravity of the decision hits them and they realize becoming Mr Cards would mean entirely losing their identity. They can’t let anyone see them like this. They don’t want this to be their eternity. They really messed up and see no way to fix it now

·      Miles muses that physical monstrous changes by the red science represent internal corruption, generations of abominable deeds done to stay in power manifest in the weeping scars on their skin. They didn’t fail to live up to their family legacy, they embody it better than anyone else. “Miles, you didn’t have to do any of that!” There are so many points at which a different choice could have made the story end another way, yet the story never could have ended any other way.

·      On the feast of Candlemas, 2 February, Miles goes North. At the gates, they hesitate one last time, thinking of their sister. But they can’t let her see what they’ve become. The sentiment is far too little, far too late. I interpret the knock as suicide

·      At the exact same moment that Miles knocks, Orsinio obtains a discordance stone.

·      Miles asked, “What is due?” I will be vague about the ending, but all I’ll say is that it was the only fitting end for the character trajectory they were on, and they got exactly what they wanted. A position above everyone else. Attention from the grandest.

The End... or Is It?

·      On the seventh day of the seventh month, someone returns from the North, picked up by a ship that was in Stormbones and spotted them by lucky chance.

·      Elliot reacts in disbelief and betrayal. Lucy reacts by killing Miles, repeatedly, for what they did to her loved ones.

·      Orsinio remains calm, because he realizes immediately what’s afoot. For Miles to be here, Nothing had to have happened, because if they weren’t here, then something would have happened. This is Miles, and this is Not Miles. He holds his dog Sugarplum while musing on this, wondering if he should not take Miles to the Anchoress for advice. He decides against it, for the time being.

·      This Miles spends some time adjusting back to life in the Neath, starting completely over again. They have lingering physical changes in sharp teeth and pointed ears, but otherwise has no connection or obligation to continue participating in the Masters’ experiments. They remain under the radar for a time to ensure it’s safe, but no one seems to even acknowledge them. They also have no marks from SMEN save one scar, the first scar, as a reminder.

·      Miles finally realizes the best way to spite Julian is to cut him out of their thoughts and live the life they want. Orsinio is proud of them for character growth, but couldn’t they have realized that sooner, without seeking?  Miles adopts the name Darlington instead, their mother’s maiden name.

·      Orsinio is ever patient but gets tired of Miles hanging around his lab all day and tells them to get something to do. They see posters at the Department of Menace Eradication for a big hunting prize. They always enjoyed hunting trips during visits to the family’s summer home on the Surface. Why not? (We all Look Away from R playing the same ambition with multiple characters. No single timeline shall be a single timeline.) Orsinio remains exasperated.

Bag a Legend 2 Electric Boogaloo

·      “Veils got Miles in the divorce with Eaten”

·      While my OC Samuel represented the taciturn and violent side of Veils, Miles is the charmer and manipulator. Despite getting a second chance, they very much are still a villain, though at least they’re less unhinged this time. Miles becomes a Midnighter. They don’t know why they have a sudden interest in the Great Game, but they find they’re a natural at it. Miles, whether they’re conscious of it or not, plays White.

·      I’m in the middle of BAL now, but Miles will choose the Surface Veils ending. I imagine Veils can shift appearance easily, given that it’s a manifestation of intrigue and disguise; when they first encounter Surface Veils, it appears like Julian. Miles is disarmed, but has grown much more confident, and is able to keep control of the situation. As the game goes on, Surface Veils shifts to look more how I imagine it. When they come to an impasse, a hand is outstretched, and negotiations for a deal can begin. Allying with Veils is the perfect way to spite their father the textile magnate

All My Homies Hate the White

·      Orsinio, who already was suspicious of the circumstances of Miles’ return, grows even more concerned watching them develop an interest in chess which was previously nonexistent. He knows of the higher powers of the chessboard from his studies at the Adulterine Castle, and he knows something of the nature of the Old Man and the White from his experience in the game (several ES). Orsinio knows enough to understand they send agents to the Neath, and he begins to wonder if this is why “Miles” is here.

·      Orsinio is doing a lot mentally better, but still struggles with paranoia. What if his whole life, he’s been a pawn? What if his brother was murdered not only as part of Mr Cups’ scheming, but to get Orsinio to go to the Neath, where he’d eventually go West and study what isn’t at the Hurlers, so he’d have the wherewithal to later lead an agent of the White directly to the court of the Black?

·      The story ends here, for now. I’m excited to do railway with Miles and read text for evil choices that I can’t make with other characters for RP reasons. Playing a villain is a lot of fun. We’ll see how things play out, or do not play out.

#my ocs #fallen london #gaze upon my most terrible son #pour one out for orsinio the real one suffering here #my writing #this got LONG but i had fun #i blacked out and came out of my word doc with 3000 words #i'm gonna expand upon these events and post things on ao3 but short version here first #also i had so much fun making the graphic with the two sides #even with the complication of losing access to powerpoint and having to transfer it to microsoft online #all my homies hate the white and all my homies hate corporations #smen #smen spoilers #lore spoilers #nemesis spoilers #hd spoilers #bal spoilers #lf spoilers #literally all the spoilers in here #smen typical: #suicide mention #mental illness #self harm mention #ask to tag #railway spoilers

[bluey-frog]

OOC Notes

Hi guys, I’m the vulgar wrecker a.k.a. Rain. I’m addicted to my phone so best believe you’ll get a response, because I love everyone :). Also any new updates from me personally will be in a tag named called ‘shutuprain’ (like this one). Hopefully. Anyway, shut up and listen to the

Important irl business:

I’m not much irl, although I will be gone by next summer for.. army stuffs, but I’m not no weirdo about it. I’m only joining it because I feel I will mature from it, so don’t let that fact change your opinion about me. Also I’m 17, just so you know. Not that it’d surprise most of you reading this. I’m very open to all kinds of things, but the only thing that slightly triggers me is blood. I’m scared of it, it makes me curl up, and get anxious. I’ve had this issue since well FOREVER. Other than that, blatantly racist things for obvious reasons, and just anything mean for no reason. I also really find cuss words funny, so I don’t care if you cuss. Not a problem with me, and I’m new to tumblr. As of the time of this being posted it is my first time actually using the app. Anyway, my pronouns are he/him, but I’m not really strict with them so if you prefer to call me by any other she/her, they/them and the like I’m not opposed. Call me whatever you’d like :)

If I need to tell anymore about myself I might just add it in its own post, of course things may change.

OC’s below cut

The lovely characters!

Disclaimer: I find it better to be honest with you all when it comes to these two characters and the references they come from. Because both were originally contained having appearances of actual anime characters, I’m sorta unoriginal.. Indi came from a picture of Kokichi. And Raito comes from the “Wretched Egg” or Shiro from deadman wonderland, a anime I grew up with. So, yeah. Anyway, tweaks will also be explained, because of course they’re differentiated. Now I’ll shut up and get to it.

Name: Komichi “Indi” Yuzuki

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Occupation: Game Developer

Height: 5’1

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Purple

Sexuality: Bisexual with a male lead

Notes:

Often falls into depressive episodes, especially when in relation to his love life

Remarks about wishing he could drink his pain away

“ A wish?.. well, that’s easy. I wish for a new purpose in my life, some danger to spice it up. Or else.. what else will help me?..”

Tags for Indi table will be, ‘oocha’ and ‘icha’ because it’s funny to me.

Photo references for tha boy:

Links to picrew:

Name: Raito Sekkuma

Age: 22

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Occupation: Prison Guard

Height: 5’5

Hair: Snow White

Eye color: Blood Red

Sexuality: Straight (sometimes bi-curious if you’re charming enough)

Notes:

Very secretive on why she was fired from her job. Otherwise very social, and often doesn’t let things get to her

Makes a strange clicking sound sometimes, almost sounds like a soda can being opened. A “kscha!” kind of sound. Often occurs when she holds sadistic thoughts.

Seems to have a blurred vision or at least pretends to.

“A wish? What’re you? A genie..? I hate these stupid interviews. But, if I have to answer.. my wish would be to die.”

- (Not Raito) “…T-That’s it?.. ah, come on. That’s it? You don’t want a million dollars, to magically heal your body, or even a perfectly painless de-“

“Okay, okay! Fine. If you want specification.. take out ‘painless’ and you’ll have my wish. I’ll spell it out for you. A. Perfect. Death. Are we done here?”

Her tags are “raiooc” and “kscha” for ic.

Photos for tha girl:

Link to this new picrew:

#shutuprain #oocha #raiooc

[trash-bin-ary]

(question since I've been around long enough to see your pfp change a few times, you don't have to answer, I'm just really curious)

do you change the color scheme or is it a new picrew / art every time ?

if it's a picrew can you share the link ? it's so cute !

If it's art you made yourself, can you post all the variations you've had so far ?

It’s a picrew that I keep on changing the color/adding little details to in pixel studio! I have a link to the picrew but it doesn’t work anymore it leads to a 404, but the watermark on the thing is Kermasooda.

I won’t put all the variations of colors but I’ll give you the ones I’ve added detail to and the og

Here’s the og:

Here’s the start of me adding details (I later added flowers to the moss around the circle) and then the special season versions:

And then the very special versions the “nft” version (was not an nft I made it as a joke) and the dsmp anniversary version:

And then there’s been 3 other pfps I’ve used which I won’t post them all, one of which was a miniature version of the og made by @/owlwinter8 and the other 2 were edits of the picrew to have a different background such as the redwood forest or this Halloween costume:

#I have a folder of all the pfp I’ve used #that folder has 14 photos! one of which is just the pfp put in a black and white filter lol #it’s actually been a while since I’ve made a new one I have enough variation in colors at this point #thanks for the interest! man it is fun looking back on the different versions #a fun fact I started changing the color scheme to match the mcc teams I was rooting for #that does not apply anymore #i have an ask tag now and this is it #I’m very sad the link doesn’t work cause I saved it just incase this happened but I can’t properly credit the artist now

[prismatica-the-strange]

I'll Forgive Your Sins | I'll Reach for Your Hand and Convince You You're Not Completely Alone

Warnings: 18+, blood, death, angst

The moment Aleksander realizes he's truly in love with Fryce and the moment he loses her. (The Italics indicate flashbacks, first a party then a battle)

Word Count: 1.4k

Reasons by Beth Crowly| Picrew Link | Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The flowers are dead.

Every single flower and plant in the Little Palace is withered and dead.

He falls to his knees at the sight, tears in his eyes and pain in his heart.

These parties are incredibly dull.

The same boring nobility, the same boring conversations.

The only thing that had kept him from leaving outright is the thought of their newest Durast making a fool of herself and, by extension, him.

So far, she'd done a marvelous job of staying quiet and civil, all polite smiles and simple talk.

His eyes caught her form in the crowd, finding an almost melancholy look on her face, nothing like how she is in their more private meetings.

He'd almost not recognized her without a grin spread across her lips.

He'd long given up telling himself he didn't care about her at all. The winter had brought a kindred warmth between them, and after the long months he'd spent studying her abilities, he admits that she has become a friend, of sorts, to him.

To see her looking so dismal like this made his heart ache in a way it hadn't in centuries.

Then he saw it. The longing in her eyes when she looked over at the couples dancing in the middle of the ballroom.

Very few of them were Grisha, most nobles finding it beneath them to fraternize in that manner with one like them.

He set his glass on the tray of a passing server and weaved his way through the crowd in her direction.

He cleared his throat when he was behind her to get her attention.

"General Kirigan," She'd greeted with the same practiced smile, though there was a small spark of genuine joy in her eyes now.

With his hands clasped behind his back, he gives her a small nod and asks, "Would you care to dance?"

"I- What?" She seemed genuinely confused by his offer.

"With me," He clarified, "Would you care to dance with me?"

Her startled look melts into a small smile that makes his chest tighten.

"I would," She replied softly. He took her hand in his and led them toward the dance floor, "Though, I'm not sure I know the steps."

The band was playing an old Ravkan folk song, the dance to which he'd learned so long ago he couldn't forget it if he tried.

"Just," He turned to face her, free hand finding her waist, "Follow my lead."

She does. Albeit clumsily, she managed to follow his steps in time with the music.

She'd fallen into him slightly in a turn that caught her off guard and the scent of lilac and violets washed over him.

The room still smells like her.

The bed sheets reek of what he'd once had and he lays in them, drowning himself in her scent before it's gone forever.

His tears soak her pillow when he buries his face in it, breathing in what's left of her.

He won't touch the clothes in her drawers of the dresser, and he figures it will be about two months before they start smelling like the wood and varnish of it.

The book she'd been reading sits on the table on her side of the bed.

Dead vines wrap around the headboard and posts, withered petals falling onto the bedspread and floor around him.

His chest warmed when she giggled, righting herself in his hold again.

She may not have had a grasp on the dance yet, but she was beaming as they went.

That smile. The things he would do to see that smile.

She moved to step away when the song came to an end, but he held fast to her, pulling her into the next dance with him. A waltz this time and she's far more graceful than she had been in the last.

"You look beautiful," He'd comment, and her cheeks darkened.

She hadn't done much for the party, no new gown or blouse since her kefta would cover it anyway. Her hair is pinned up in a milkmaid braid, but she remained otherwise unchanged. Not that he meant just that night, her beauty had often left him breathless.

"Thank you." By then she'd noticed the eyes on them and the murmurs that accompanied their looks, making her face warm further.

Her growing blush and bashful look caused him to trip over his own feet. It's a momentary fumble that has him clinging to her tighter, but she'd taken it in stride.

Her kefta is a striking brightness against his hanging in the wardrobe,

Purple isn't her color. He'd noticed not long after meeting her and, of course, she looked lovely in it, but the shade she wore as a Durast washed her out.

White was her color. A light to his shadow, leading him from the darkness.

His eyes, red and swollen from crying, stare at their wedding stills, where her smile is immortalized and taunting him.

This had been a mistake.

He never should have asked her to dance.

With every step, a warmth enveloped him and he knew he couldn't deny these feelings any longer.

This longing, this adoration, this need.

Something came over him and he leaned in, his lips pressing lovingly to hers, catching her pleasantly off guard.

It's not their first kiss, far from it in fact, but it's the first this public, this... open.

As though he was admitting to, not just himself, but the world, how much he truly cares for her.

And it's the way she'd kissed back that let him know she felt the same.

Shadows cascade and swirl around him, the darkness she's shooed away crashing around him like the tide.

Whatever lamplight there may have been flickers out, leaving one last shine to the glass flowers on a cluttered corner of his desk.

Snowdrops. She'd made them from pigment and glass one day when she'd been bored.

Of all the little trinkets she'd presented him over the years, they were his favorite. Snowdrops, just like her. His Snowdrop.

He'd begged her not to come. Insisted it would just be a small skirmish and that her time would be better spent at The Little Palace, watching over his Grisha.

But Krynn, his stubborn, pigheaded bride of five months, told him they'd be home in half the time if she came along.

In a way, she was right.

They'd been greatly outnumbered and overwhelmed and, if she hadn't been there, he knew the rest of them wouldn't have stood a chance.

That's part of what made it so unbearable.

He'd have given the life of his most well-trained Grisha to stop what had happened.

The scream is what haunts him the most.

The terrified sound of his name being the last sound on her lips.

And, before he could do anything stop it, he watched the druskelle behind her slit her throat.

It was as though everything around him had frozen. Everything besides her, falling to the ground and her hand reaching up to press against the bloodied gash.

His feet had moved before his brain could register what he was doing, only to be thrown back by a shockwave when her knees hit the ground.

He got to his feet as fast as he could, rushing to her side, but before he could get there a group of trees sprang to life, growing rapidly and twisting around her protectively.

He threw himself against them, nails digging into the wood as he shouted her name.

His shadows couldn't penetrate the barrier.

There was nothing he could do to save her.

He'd stayed there for hours, fingers bloody and torn from the rough bark.

When David had finally arrived, his most capable Durast, second only to Krynn, he allowed himself the faintest glimmer of hope, even if the Heartrenders said her pulse had long since faded.

But even he couldn't manipulate the material.

The world has lost all color.

The sun has ceased to shine and the flowers no longer bloomed.

The days become monotonous and repetitive.

Each morning he sits on the edge of the bed after another restless night and stares up at her portrait.

It's not the first time he'd lost someone so close, but after all they'd both been through and promised and admitted, he thought he'd finally found his eternity.

And now, in a single heartbeat, she was gone.

#prisma self ships #prisma writes #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #grishaverse #self ship story #I'll Forgive Your Sins

[yanderu-deredere]

Soren 'Soleil' Ravi Kumar ★ picrew link

gender: male sexuality: pansexual age: 23 height: 6'3 body notes: He's not too muscular but not very scrawny too. A bit of a swimmer's body. He has a mole under his left eye and more under his chin, on his right ear and behind his left ear. He has two lobe piercings on each ear. Then, he has two conch piercings and three helix piercings on his left ear. He has a right nose piercing though he doesn't often wear anything other than a stud that isn't very noticeable. He doesn't have any tattoos but but he often wears henna all over his hands, up to his elbows.

type of yandere: Self-Indulgent Yandere

these types of yandere usually (not always) don’t really obsess over their darlings for the sake of the darling. mostly, they’re self serving and selfish; they want whatever their darling provide. usually, they want to keep the darling all to themselves for that reason. whatever the case, these yandere are more likely to hurt their darling or have sadistic tendencies towards their darling. it’s not about what darling wants, it’s about what they want.

After three years of writing music, Soren starts running out of things to write music about. The world started out so bright and shiny when he debuted as a musician and, now that he was a seasoned rockstar, he knew better and he was definitely a bit bitter. But seeing you, watching you, it was like the world was renewed. You gave him so much inspiration it hurt. And it felt like you understood him in a way that nobody else did, that you knew his music the same way he knew his music. There was no way he could let go of someone like you.

likes: indian street food, anything to do with music, singing, street fashion, fish, the ocean dislikes: humid weather, uncomfortable clothes, american country music, dogs

Soren is the lead guitarist and lead vocalist of the hit band 'Acatalepsy'. They're the number one boy band from one of the most admired entertainment companies not just in Lovelock but in the entire world, Merak Entertainment. They debuted three years ago and, since then, their popularity has only skyrocketed. There used to be five members but now there's only four. Still they have a dedicated fanbase and even more dedicated members.

Each member of the band has a planet that they correspond to and Soren's nickname in the band is 'Soleil' because his planet is the sun; his personality is pretty much the same. It's why he's the favourite among fans. That and because he pretty much dedicates his blood, sweat and tears to every single one of their albums and songs.

He works hard for his music and it really shows because if he's not in the studio working, he's in front of a piece of paper or a computer, trying his hardest to think up of new music or new lyrics. He eats a lot of fast food because of this and because he can't really be seen a lot out in public. A lot of the times, the fast food he eats is street food which he really loves.

Growing up, Soren didn't really have anyone else. His parents always made sure that he was provided for but he was always alone. So, he was left to his own devices. It's when he learned how Much he loved music, actually. When he was often alone, he learned how to play a lot of different instruments, how to read and listen to music properly, etc. He watched a lot of orchestras, a lot of plays, a lot of musicals. It also meant that he never got close to his parents and that he never really learned how to socialise with others.

Because of his dedication to his music, other than his band mates, Soren isn't really close with anyone else. He likes to let his fans think that he lets them close so he can flirt with them but that's really so that he can make money to make music or to wet his dick a little bit from time to time.

sexual preference: dominant verse turn ons: phone sex, voyeurism (giving/receiving), semi-public sex, sex-toys (giving/receiving), edging (giving/receiving), food kink (giving), marking (giving/receiving), oral sex (giving/receiving), body worship (giving)

dick size: 7in

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere #oc x reader #male oc #soren #about the yandere #lemony content

[royalberryriku]

Uh, New Story™ Rambling Post?

Just a random post of original story ideas I want to blurt out somewhere and get some feedback for if anyone wants to chat with me about OCs, ideas and yell about stories lmao

Will have picrews (with links), any art or notes, etc and will be updated as I go.

So we have these two main characters so far:

Their names?? I have no idea. But I do know the the first one goes by they/them and is the narrator and the latter is their love interest, a lady who partners up with them.

I'm thinking maybe the buddy-cop trope in a mystery, sort like the Sherlock Watson dynamic with these two.

As far as setting and atmosphere goes, I'm thinking maybe dark academia?? Definitely relating to magic, astronomy, gods, etc. I love playing around with the idea of eldritch powers beyond comprehension; that desire for knowledge and the unknown, I love settings that are filled with human curiosity and the result of both that innocent longing and that darker hubris that leads to grave mistakes.

I want the protagonist to be a sort of shy, stand offish person, but also hints that they're hiding something deep down. Maybe their perspective is that of an unreliable narrator and the story is told via their bias and lies?

As for the second main character, I could see her being a bit more open and honest. Maybe as she also helps the protagonist as a sort of moral weight that pulls them back from their lies. Or maybe even better of an idea could be the pros and cons of both, and how both characters wish they could be more like the other? An honest and kind woman who doesn't want to be so kind and open; who wants to be able to lie, meanwhile there is a character who feels compelled to lie and wishes they could just be open and reveal all that is burdening them.

Theme-wise, I'm thinking maybe a story that centres the idea of how progress can only be achieved through warmth and kindness, not judgement and coldness. Though that may change. I think, as usual with what I write, I'll end up sneaking in some themes about self love, mental health and healing from trauma. I especially love stories about becoming independent after feeling controlled, so I suspect I'll end up adding that as at least a minor theme throughout this story, if not all of the stories I write. It's a go to for me and something I love to explore and express through writing.

As far as the main conflict and potential twists, I already have in mind that the protagonist would have a connection to the mystery to some degree, particularly the idea that the protagonist's inner troubles are caused by the same thing/ person that caused the overall conflict. Meanwhile, I could see the second main character being their support and reassurance that they are more than their circumstances. I would also like to flip this down the line where the protagonist ends up doing the same for the second main character, their partner, when she goes through similar turmoil once her own inner conflicts are brought to the surface.

[To be continued later]

Credits:

Picrew (1)

#writing #tumblr writing community #creative writing #writeblr #writing help #note taking #ideas #save #writing inspiration #uhh idk what else to save this as to find it again and such #or to signal other writers who may be interested in bouncing ideas off one another #or just giving advice #but meh #whatever ig #og writing #original stuff #my writing stuff #og stuff

[alleanut]

— Itachi Kobayashi

TW: Death ⋆ Suicide

I. INTRO ⋆ II. EXTRA ⋆ III. RELATIONS ⋆ VI. PAST

————————— I. INTRO

AGE: 1954 MENTAL AGE: 38 SPECIES: Azure Dragon GENDER: Male SEXUALITY: Unlabeled ETHNICITY: Japanese

—————— I.I Powers & Drawbacks

HYDROKINESIS: Ability to control, generate or absorb water and moisture ——— If he overuses his hydrokinesis, he gets greatly sick RESURRECTION: Ability to come back to life after being killed ——— The only way to actually not come back to life is if he takes his life with his own hands SPIRITUALITY: Ability to see and understand souls while also being able to summon a dragon from his own soul ——— It is very hard for him to use this ability, so when he does he's very exhausted after. Not only that but it's beyond complicated to control, so he has to genuinely focus, which leads to splitting head aches

-—————-————— I.II Personality

——— POSITIVE TRAITS Kind ⋆ Empathetic ⋆ Calm ⋆ Patient ⋆ Open-minded ——— NEGATIVE TRAITS Dishonest ⋆ Unpredictable ⋆ Self-reserved

-—————–———— I.III Appearance

————————— II. EXTRA

PRONOUNS: He / Him NICKNAMES: Ita, Chi-Chi ( pseudonym ), Monsoon BIRTHDAY: February 29th ZODIAC SIGN: Pisces OCUPPATION: Psychologist LIKES: Books, Spending time with his loved ones, Nature DISLIKES: Dealing with William's aggressive outbursts, Crying, His long hair, Not being able to help someone LANGUAGES: Old and Modern Japanese & English, Chinese, Hindi, French, Russian, Arabic, German, Spanish, Serbian

—————— III. RELATIONS

————————————— III.I Family

MOTHER: Fuyuko Kobayashi FATHER: Onyx Kobayashi YOUNGER BROTHER: Aito Kobayashi YOUNGER SISTERS: Sitala Kobayashi, Laelynn Kobayashi EXTENDED FAMILY: The Henderson Family ( "foster" family )

——————————— III.II Romantic

OLD CRUSH: Himari Kim ???: Amelia Cinder

——————-————— III.III Platonic

SOULMATE: Frederick Henderson CLOSE FRIENDS: Greed Harrisburg, Allen Moore, William Isaac Henderson ROOMMATE: Hansuke Yaoyorozu ( "son" )

————————— VI. PAST

——————————— VI.I Childhood

Itachi was the eldest sibling out of everyone, Silata was after him, then Aito and Laelynn was the youngest. He grew up in a kind family, where everyone absolutely adored him. However, in his time, there was an organization of humans who was trying to eradicate creatures who were not human, especially azure dragons. The ironic thing was that the leader of the group was not human himself. His parents decided that if they wanted to keep anyone from their kind alive, they had to sacrifice themselves for their children. All of the four siblings were each given to a different empire, Itachi ended up in the vampire empire. That was the last time he ever saw his parents and he would end up not hearing a word from his family for decades

—————————— VI.II Teenhood

COMING SOON...!!

—————————— VI.III Adulthood

Itachi works daily. He pays his taxes and rent in due time, unlike someone else in his life...( It's William. ) When he needs a breather, he hangs out with his close friends, or goes somewhere with Hansuke for some quality father and son time. He is very satisfied with his life, he's kind to everyone and tries to help as much as he possibly can. It is a life he always wished for in all his years of living. However, he has a secret that he hasn't been able to share for almost a century now

LINKS: Picrew credits to やすばる Superpower Generator

#{🦑} my posts #{👤} chars #{🌊} itachi #what the hellllllllll #making this was a STRUGGLE!! #original character #oc #oc intro