#ive made myself fixate on new ocs.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stxneflxwers · 7 months ago

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fragments of heaven – prelude.

summary. In a scary, mysterious, new universe, they find themself searching for even a little bit of purpose amidst the chaos. The past will haunt them, but the future will guide them, too.

a/n. hi this is nerve-wracking to post. lol. i'm so used to being ashamed of posting OC stuff that this is somehow still difficult even after years of doing it. ANYWAY ive been absolutely fixating on this for ages now – many rewrites later, i think i've found a happy spot! anywho, this is a crossover with my original story/world. i do plan to explain as much as i feasibly and reasonably can about my original story. hopefully it doesn't leave too many people in the dark, ofc. but also you're meant to see this from an HSR perspective anyway lol also, this is more or less co-written with one of my best friends, so her character(s) are featured here! also 2, the first scene in this prologue/chapter is kinda awkward cuz i didnt bother to fix it when i started rewriting,,, oops

characters. aventurine. original character(s).

cw. this is a universe crossover/fusion!!! canon x OC. slavery. implied character death. trauma. (more tags will be added as more chapters are posted)

prologue.

Kakavasha often heard humming throughout the small, dirty prisons lined with slaves like himself. He didn’t know where it was coming from, but it brought uncanny serendipity to his angry emotions for a little while every time. When the humming would eventually stop, the onslaught of vexed emotions and thoughts would return minutes later.

And then, he finally meets the person who hums one day by what feels like a stroke of luck, pure chance. He initially expected to never see the face the voice belongs to. The only visible eye of that person never left his mind – a bright, starry blue with a white pupil and ring in their iris. Their rusty red hair covers their other eye, like they hide it intentionally.

They deliver him his rations for the day, but the plate of food seems larger than usual. They put a finger up to their lips – he needs to stay quiet if he wants it. They slide the plate into his cell and offer him a soft, patient smile.

“I hope you enjoy it, I made it myself.” The fellow slave whispers to him, “Ah… What’s your name… Kakavasha?” They ask as they shut the barred door and straighten their legs as they rise.

“…Yeah.” He nods as he warily takes the plate of food before eating it with slow, small bites. “Oh, wow… This is…really good.” He whispers before shoving a larger portion into his mouth.

“I’m glad you like it.” They nod before hearing heavy footfalls nearby, “I have to go now – may we meet again one day.” They grin before quickly sneaking away, running on the tip of their feet.

Kakavasha watches them run away with deftness and grace, like a dancer. He finishes his food quickly, not wanting to be caught with a bigger, better portion than usual.

It doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter how many times the older slave gets their head beaten into the wall by the slavemaster. Les Esfacier is still standing, regardless of every whip, every cut, every kick and punch. It doesn’t matter how much crimson blood pours from their new wounds, they remain standing – all with a wicked, knowing smirk on their bruise-darkened lips.

“I hope you’re enjoying the show, No.35!” The slaver barks at Kakavasha, who remains firmly tied to a chair nearby. “Because No.8 hasn’t died from a single beating – yet. But I’m more than happy to change that…” He glances at the Avgin with a twisted grin before raising his whip to lash the older teen.

Les Esfacier jumps in before the leather can meet his vulnerable body, causing the whip to crack against their cheek.

“Les Esfacier—!” Kakavasha gasps, his heart dropping into the acidic remains of his gut as he watches another trail of blood form on his fellow slave’s face. With hardly any self-control left to spare, he starts sobbing, yet unable to tear his gaze away from the gruesome sight.

“Why are you still smirking, No.8? Are you getting off on this, huh?!” The slavemaster howls with laughter, his own preconceived notions are pure entertainment.

“I’m smirking because it’s funny how much you struggle to kill me.” Les Esfacier snarks.

“You…!” The slave owner growls before yanking out his pistol, aiming right at the smart-mouthed slave’s head.

“No—!” Kakavasha tries to lurch forward in his chair before he gasps when a warm, golden-white light covers his eyes.

“Shh… It’s okay, little guy, just listen to me, okay?” A soft yet lively voice whispers in his mind as the golden-white glow permeates his vision, it’s almost enough for him to relax. “My name is Summer – I’m Les Esfacier’s friend! I…I’m here to take care of you while they’re asleep! Y-Yeah…!” The feminine voice squeaks, clearly doing her best to reassure the slave.

“...Asleep? That’s the best lie you could come up with?” Kakavasha mentally retorts with a bitter sigh.

“Hey, I’m trying!” He can practically hear the pout in her voice, “But… They aren’t dead, either. They’re just…out of commission!”

“...Right.” He groans, “They…they had to have died… No one can survive a gunshot to the head like that…”

“You’d be surprised. Ma— Les Esfacier is a super-tank!”

“A…super-tank,” He echoes, “You’re weird, Summer… If that is your real name.”

“Hey! Stop doubting me! Please, just believe me when I say they’re fine… They really are just asleep!”

“Whatever…”

That night, the moon is in its first quarter – its silver glow peeks through the small, barred window above him, filling the cell he sits in. He curls up in the shadows, though, a dark place where he wishes he could hide for eternity. He didn’t want the moon to shed light on the guilt that eats away at him, all the way to the core.

But, perhaps now is the time for action, as the moon foretells.

“Hey, little guy… You asleep yet?”

It’s that voice again, and now there’s a body made of the same golden-white light accompanying it. The figure is petite and curvy. But he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of that – it’s the least of his problems right now, or so he tells himself.

“No,” He grumbles tiredly, “How could I be? After everything…”

“It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“How can you promise something as ridiculous as that?” He sighs, he couldn’t help it anymore. He needed such a deep, heavy breath that’s been pent up to finally leave his system.

It wasn’t as relieving as he hoped it would be.

“Because I know! Trust me, okay?”

She’s so argumentative, he thinks, and at this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’s truly gone off the rails.

“...Whatever.”

The figure sits down in the heart of the moon’s glow on the floor, and she opens her arms to him.

“Come here! Sit on my lap. It’ll be cold tonight, like always. I’ll keep you warm.”

“Are you kidding me?” He grumbles, but upon getting no response from her, he takes it as a sign that she’s serious about it. “...Fine.” But only this once, he thinks.

With her legs crossed, she holds onto him in her lap with tender grace that only a mother knows.

Kakavasha jolts awake in Summer’s arms as the desert sun slowly rises, but he’s quick to sigh and write off his own alarm as a small nightmare he can’t recall. He looks up at the spirit that held him all night, her eyes closed and her body still as a serene statue. He briefly wonders if this is what it’s really like to be cared for by a mother. However, he quickly shrugs this thought off – knowing that there’s no hope in finding solace in the deceased.

“Awake so early, huh?” Summer murmurs; her eyes flitting open, staring down at him with a soft smile.

“...Yeah,” He rolls out of her arms before stretching his arms high above his head and his legs straight out, “Thanks… For, uhm, last night.”

“No problem, little guy!” She chirps, watching him closely. Her energy and joy are damn near infectious, but he wouldn’t dare dream of giving himself the chance to feel the same pleasures. “Hey, I have a gift for you.” She informs casually, there are sparkles of excitement dancing in her dark eyes.

“...A gift?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck, “You really don’t have to—”

“Well, I don’t care if I don’t have to, because I want to.” She nods before a gold coin with a triquetra engraved in it manifests in her hand, “Here, catch!” She tosses it to him.

He catches it despite the fumbling, he looks down at it and blinks slowly, “A gold coin? Well, at least it doesn’t look like a damn Tanba…”

“My gramps made it! And it was the last one to ever be minted by him. I really want you to have it, little guy. Think of it as a parting gift and a reminder!”

“...A reminder of what?” He asks with deliberate slowness.

“That there’s always love and kindness looking for you and that it’ll find you eventually, sooner or later. So, don’t give up on those things, or ever give up on anything! Also…”

“Also…?”

“Should we ever meet again,” She clasps her hands around his own hand that holds the coin, “Show me the coin, and I’ll know exactly who you are.” She grins, “You can do this, m’kay?”

With that said, she vanishes. And he doesn’t know if it’ll be for now or forever. He clutches the coin tightly in his hand, her lingering warmth setting a fire ablaze in his heart – a unique determination.

#🌠— my works #✨— fragments of heaven #🌠— ocs #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr oc #honkai star rail oc #aventurine

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charleemoon · 1 month ago

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HELLO HI CHARLIE :) !!! i have SM FUN reading ur essays in the tags and and ur takes they are so real :3 HANNIBAL FANS 5EVER !!! sometimes i go to ur blog and it's like oh!! that's literally the thought i had that i didn't know how to put into words! there it is in words!! ALSO ur ocs have intrigued me... i saw the one post about would ur ocs survive a horror movie or something and i love vincent now !! tell me everything ever about all of them i love ocs sm :3 i have ocs too and i fr get the struggle of "aughhh what if my ocs are offensive and cringe" i was like SOMEONE GETS IT !! sometimes, for me, it feels like i want an excuse to yap on the internet about my ocs even if i'm scared so HERES UR EXCUSE :) if that helps :) i would like to hear about them if u ever feel like tapping! no pressure ofc from any of this in any respect, i just wanted to tell u i'm out here !! & i care ! the only reason i didn't say this before is i'm like irrationally anxious about asking off anon idk why... oops i'm rambling... anyway have a nice day/night etc !! i hope nice things happen for u :)

HELLO ANON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh my gosh thank you !! im so happy leaps into the air so much and leaps more i love words and talking!! obviously. im so often fixated on this idea that i am completely incomprehensible, nothing i say makes any sense and my thoughts are nonsense and inhuman. so it makes me really happy for you to say that !! im really really happy that my thoughts resonate and make sense

DONT. ASK. ME. ABOUT. MY OCS. I CANT EVEN LIKE ITS THERES TOO MUCH I THINK i can never keep myself from rambling.

okay so i have a few individual oc verses.... but im mainly posting about REV (rejuvenation) (the name sucks it all sucks i suck) which has two separate groups. its called that because i basically got really autistic one night and repurposed a bunch of old middle school ocs into new characters and whatever. WHATEVER. theres no real plot to rev, just people trying to figure themselves out and growing up and just. trying to right them like real people i guess

college boys (WORKING TITLE. ITS ALL WORKING ITS JUST WHAT I CALL THEM IT SUCKS) is the group i was talking about!! if you couldnt tell by their names... kicks rock.. they are repurposed from fnaf night guards... screams so loud. when i was 12/13 i was obsessed with them... especially the like very fanonized versions (rebornica mention. shudders) but it was one of those situations where like. you have a bunch of headcanons and personal ideas and then they become so different from the source material that they basically became ocs. i picked them back up around 2022.

i cant even begin to like. fully ramble about them tbh cuz the post will never end and i just need to actually write it all down somewhere in a master post. but i DO have a very poorly maintained toyhouse. (please ignore how ass all the art is im really lazy and only draw on mspaint half the time) most all my oc information is contained in my obsidian files on my pc, but i truly CANNOT post the level of shit in there. its too much

them !!! by order fritz, jeremy, michael, vincent, scott. made by super cool friend @bog-teeth

IM GLAD YOU LIKE VINCENT I LOVE VINCENT. i think he is sooo odd and strange and fun and and !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have a hard time talking about them because he is like an enigma to me. I HAVE A HARD TIME TALKING ABOUT HIM ALSO BECAUSE OF THE EVIL .... he is very traumatized and i like exploring a lot of darker themes and morbid things with rev and i get worried that im. doing it wrong? or disrespectfully. like people would be like thats weird or . ????? i have severe obsessions about it i think im just crazy. i love all of them so so much i really like thinking about them (looks at all the art i havent made and writing ive put off) i love them i swear (they are starving in my basement)

jeremy has a sister hazel and thats a whole other friend group with their own story and BLINKS MY EYELASHES I DONT TALK ABOUT THEM ENOUGH. i think i just get worried that its like. boohoo edgy gay ocs with evil backstory everyone has already seen it all before loser. and then i have to remember that its my oc and i do whatever i want . BUT WHAT IF

anon whoever you are i am kissing your head i am so happy that you sent me an ask and that that you care !!!!!!! i always feel like everything i do is meaningless and uninspired and that i hold no sway or creative influence or. i dont even know. IM SO HAPPY !!!!!!!!!! !

i hope you have such a lovely lovely day or night too ^0^ youve inspired me to work a little harder !! maybe a rev masterpost is in order (or maybe i should write my intro post first . i have things to do)

#charlieog #crescent callings #rev #FANNIBALS 5EVER!!!!!! TEEHEES #im so jittery and sick. i love you askbox

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carzstarz · 5 months ago

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oopsie this was supposed to be under a readmore

i feel this thing lately (as in a long time) where i guess it can be boiled down to "i want to be transgender one day" which its like. ive known myself to be transgender since i was 15, as in i had the feeling of "i wish i was a boy instead" since much earlier in life but didnt know about the term for it until i was 15 back in like 2011. i knew of crossdressing and had a fixation on it (i had a lot of ocs that were crossdressers, but upon learning about transgenderism i made em all trans instead) and like i sat with this idea since i was 15, this idea it would be impossible for me to transition in any meaningful way you know. i had figured i would never be able to go on hrt or get a name change or even present myself as anything beyond "that thing is a tomboy probably" so i stuck the idea of top surgery and testosterone out of my mind as completely as i could. annihilated any desire for it, feeling that would be a better solution than to be stuck with any perpetual longing for a body i cant have. and for a long time that did help get through the day i think, but after about a decade it caught up with me. as in like i am completely estranged from my family (not neccessarily by choice but its a win in an unsatisfactory way) and im faced with the reality of hrt being something i can just up and do. but it was several years of anytime i started to consider it, i was given countless reasons for why it would only worsen me, but now i dont think it would worsen me. this also means being face to face with dysphoria i had been ignoring for the better half of the last 10 years.

but transitioning became a very like, luxurious thought i couldnt afford to acknowledge. i have spent the better half of the last 10 years dealing with debilitating psychosis that tore me apart from the inside out, every moment im awake. even in my sleep i was plagued with disgusting and terrifying nightmares on top of insomnia. there wasnt any spare room in my mind to think of my gender when i hardly felt alive, barely felt human. which is something im not sure how to really talk about despite how much i do talk about my experience with schizophrenia. and also with the hard hard haaaard decline of my physical health took up the rest of my thoughts it seemed. of being in immense pain all the time, too painful to stand or walk, unable to do that unassisted. being in the tower, unable to traverse stairs. my chest pain, my struggles to get doctors in the first place and then to get them to acknowledge this chest pain that left me immobilized for the better half of a year. pain so immense i thought it would kill me, pain so immense i couldnt lift a cup to my face, couldnt sit up enough to draw or even hold my phone. pain that still lingers, and seems to come back harder the moment i feel i can try and apply for work, almost like its reminding me thats out of reach. but i dont think its forever, i think theres still hope of either lessening the pain or overcoming it. ive abandoned this post for hours ive lost my train of thought. thoughts i want to share even of it just means they arent circling inside of me. i feel very disconnected from it all, its like the world is spinning without me, and now that im on the cusp of rejoining it, it feels like i missed enough that i cant understand it anymore, but that just happens sometimes.

again this feeling of "i want to be transgender" but theres always something more pressing, like just struggling to be alive and generally alone with it. detatched from myself too, that im wondering if im the same person i was before this. before the tower, which is what i call the little blue room i stayed in between moving for several months that i was in too much pain to leave. theres just has to be something about staring at the same walls of someone elses bedroom with no way to entertain myself because the pain was too much to even sit upright in. i listened to a lot of new music which was nice, but because the music i had enjoyed sounded wrong on the crummy old tv we picked up from the dump and had very distorted speakers. and it felt weird to me to hear songs i knew in a different way. in which music was something i liked to fixate on, since silence would usually lead to me experiencing more intense delusions/ hallucinations, and so i always had to have sound playing to stave this off. but the experience of so much solitude in such extreme pain i couldnt even speak sometimes its like. i have to talk about it it waa so much of my life now but i feel like im not supposed to. even still when i get stressed at all it can make the pain worsen but its been getting less intense overtime but im still scared of the pain returning even if lesser. every now and then i try drawing again but its gonna take a long time to rebuild my skills and then theres the problem of what would i draw. i spent the last few years mostly drawing sonic-adjacent furries and it brought me joy like no other special interest, but now i mostly feel sick looking through my art of like. is this what i want to draw? do i still like it? i feel like i had my special interest ripped from me and it sucks. of these characters i held really dear to myself but then i had this messed up health crisis and now its like everything just feels bad, like this is someone elses art, someone elses favorite games, someone elses favorite characters. which like interests come and go but it felt like i didnt get a choice in this. it feels like the pain just rewired myself. the way i see myself is like i was entering some sort of chrysalis, and was about to grow into myself fully, and it took years and years of hating myself and slowly slowly learning to love myself and to show myself compassion, but then my body caved in on itself in my cocoon. and a butterfly didnt come out, it just fell to the side in all its agony and writhing, and i am the walking chrysalis. change (in the house of flies)

i had been considering going by a different name for a long time now, and now it feels like the best opportunity to use a new name since i dont feel like the same person anymore. it feels like even the anxiety was beaten out of me. or at least the isolation just made it into something else now. never felt like i was meant for the world, and it seemed like the world didnt want me in it either, and it succeeded. but maybe i can join as someone new, but i really wanted to be able to be myself in the world but i think i always knew that wasnt an option. i do think i died in some way and i am on my second chance as someone else, and i dont think i will be lucky enough to get another chance. or it all doesnt mean anything, but reaching into myself i can tell it isnt what it once was.

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toonilumi · 1 year ago

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I’m not an ominous gray figure in your ask box by will, my friends just don’t need to know that I am publicly BEGGING for fun facts about Nowhere Train. Lumibing old chap I am pleading for the knowledge.

well colorful text anon, i can provide the best of my abilities! Kind of. maybe i can talk about my general thought process with nowhere train instead.

So i've been in a bit of a slump regarding it, but I think I'm finally pulling myself out. See, my Toontown fixation has refused to let me enjoy much else besides it, so a LOT of my OC projects got thrown on the backburner. Its part of the reason I fell off of the splash arts (that and general lack of motivation...). NWT was also in a bad spot of me feeling really really insecure about it.

I... know we're all going through multiverse burnout, so i became really worried about me potentially perpetuating that cycle when i didnt mean to. But I watched Cartoonshi's video about the thing and realized... oh i was just overreacting. That, and I finally got around to finalizing some much needed redesigns. The main 4 just need to be digitized and they'll be done. I wanna touch up Polaris, Henundher, Backenforth, Cozimo, and Stealer so theyre still a WIP (polaris and stealer are very close to being done though).

Coming into the new year I want to actually... do Stuff with them. Now that ive made peace with the fact Im not required to do lunium/"danganmon" content I feel much more free. Unfortunately I must reiterate they are also on the backburner compared to anything Toontown related, so it will be a slow start.

I stated a while ago Id love for it to be animated someday, which is true! But I understand that is... a long time away if it comes at all. Could we expect a comic at some point? Maybe, I've certainly honed my skills regarding the craft. I'd really prefer to start small though (even though I... have mostly worked with small one shot comics, I wanna build to something bigger, ya feel?). Whatever happens... happens I suppose.

I also want to... find meaning in the NWT cast. Various DGM incidents have lead to me feeling detached from my own characters, and I'm only like... JUST recovering from that. Its a hard balance to strike! You want to care enough that they mean something to you, but not too much that attacks against them become personal. This of course could just be because of my interests right now, but you never know.

Anyways, I think I've gone on long enough. This probably isn't what you asked for but it was kind of a vague question! No hate though, I love talking sometimes.

#not lumi art

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skunkes · 2 years ago

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I'm sorry if you've been asked this before but any tips of learning anatomy? You're stuff is so good :' DDD

thank you! Honestly my tips are to find lots of inspiration or refs (if you like the way someone draws knees or legs or forearms, take note! go find pictures of people that look all sorts of ways), and don't be afraid to take it piece by piece if you need to...

ive been drawing for forever and im just now barely learning to draw legs. as a kid and in high school i was obsessed with hands and arms. i still cant draw feet or shoes or heads in profile or bodies interacting but I'm leaving that to time, when I find myself actually motivated and invested in doing it, vs forcing myself to do it (<- which can work, getting out of your comfort zone wise, but usually doesnt work for me specifically)

i also recommend drawing lots in general and/by finding something to become obsessed with ^_^ i dont think i wouldve improved much last year if 1. i didnt happen to make a new oc to fixate on 2. if i didnt start fixating on how Cool the human body is and how bad i wanna do it justice when drawing it....which has made it more Fun which also helps with improving ^_^

#wormguy98 #skunk mail #long post -

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trinketstar · 4 years ago

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ghjfk i dont actually feel bad about it but i ALMOST kinda feel bad that i made a buncha new friends over the last few months over osomatsu n i just immediately lost interest in drawing it. after like 4 solid years of drawing it nonstop and keeping entirely to myself in the fandom.. pfft thats how it goes

rlly tho i AM glad my brain is allowing me to move on n fixate on something else for a while. my ocs feel way more rewarding to draw :3 i still love ososan (and kun especially) and i’ll be SO HYPE when the s2 dub comes out, and I REALLY HOPE THEY DO THE MOVIE omg. but... is it an unpopular opinion to feel like s3 was super boring looking back? i mean it had a couple cute episodes but maaaaaaannn i was so disinterested towards the end that i still havent watched the final ep yet. i totally get ppl wanting it to be cozy n sweet during such a stressful year but idk i felt like i didnt recognize the matsus personalities anymore n the “story arc” felt so pointless .. like if i want cute bonding moments ive got yuru camp =v= it’s better at it

like. i didnt hate it! im glad it exists and it gave us totonyaa it’s worth it just for that. maybe it was fine and the fixation juice just ran out so im not biased anymore. ah well.

#trinket rambles

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jellyfishpoptart · 5 years ago

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➴➵Pacta Sunt Servanda➴➵

Summary:

Word count: 4,022

Pairing: Mandalorian x Ex-Mandalorian OC

Warnings: Injured Mando, blood, death mention,

A/N: I’m sorry I didn’t post right away I wrote myself into a hole . Also Mando will be getting a bigger part I just want to make sure I’ve fleshed Kinsei out enough first. Any questions comments, or concerns I’ll happily answer in my ask I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist:

part one

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴

Kinsei awoke the next day feeling as if her head were full of rocks she rubbed her eyes feeling her arm was weighed down it was in a cast still in its sling. She winced feeling the swollen tenderness of her ribs, she imagined the bruising to be pretty bad judging by how much they throbbed.

She looked around realizing she was no longer in the home made OR she was in a bedroom and by the locks of it belonged to Echo, the soft lighting of the sunset illuminated through the beige muslin curtains. They moved gently letting in a cool autumn breeze. She raised the soft down comforter she wore a loose fitting olive nightdress again borrowed from Echo. Kinsei was thankful to still see her leg, there were three metal rings around her knee extending to her lower leg supported by metal beams some of which were inside of her skin supporting the bone.

She swung her legs over the bed grabbing onto an IV stand for leverage when Chaska walked past only doubling back upon realizing seeing Kinsei was awake. "Don't try walking just yet we put a lot of work into saving it. With all the screws and pins in it you might wanna consider yourself part droid." She said while helping her settle back into bed Chaska propped her leg up onto a pillow and tucking her back in.

"You must be hungry I'll whip you up something real quick." She left as quickly as she came in she could hear Echo's voice coming down the hall in passing she couldn't understand what the two were saying it was too muffled in her current state.

"You're awake how you feeling?" Beamed Echo from the doorway Kinsei smiled back still feeling a little groggy she leaned over from the bed to reach for her coat that hung off of a chair beside the bed. From the inside left pocket she pulled out a photo her thumbs carefully running over the corners of the picture. It was a family picture taken in a meadow on Yavin 4. She was eight in the photo dressed in her black Mandalorian armor.

Standing behind her were Endric, Rham, and Ca'tra also dressed in black armor. Each of them wore a Beskar signet of a snake swallowing its tail on the left side of their chest plate armor. It matched the tattoo on her left inner forearm, she hoped the surgery hadn't left it scarred. She couldn't remember who had taken the photo but she remembered it being another smuggling run for the rebels.

"I really miss my dads." She admitted in a somber tone she wanted them to comfort them during her recovery but there was no way of her finding Rham and Endric. She wiped away a tear before it had a chance to fall, she cleared her throat to pass the thick feeling that had begun to rumble in her chest. Echo pulled out the chair at her bedside to be closer to the young pilot. Echo leaned over looking at the photo with her eyes marvelling at the Mandalorian armor never having seen anything like it in her life.

"Are they still on Mandalore? We can try sending a message out there if you'd like!" Her enthusiasm warmed Kinsei's heart Echo seemed so willing to go above and beyond to make her feel at home. With genocide of the Mandalorian warriors on the night she was born her parents had vowed never to return. It always hurt knowing she'd never know Mandalore the same way her parents had. Shosa must have been way deep within the Outer Rim for them not to have heard of the Empire's occupation of Mandalore.

"They travel a lot for work especially now that we're in war." She shrugged her shoulders propping up the photo against a lamp. Kinsei wondered if they missed her or if they thought of her as a selfish coward. Echo leaned over tucking a stray hair behind Kinsei's ear.

"We'll be your family until you find yours again." said Chaska from the doorway holding a wooden bowl, Kinsei felt overwhelmed it wouldn't be the first time she found herself a family that wasn't blood. She hoped they would be safe especially now that the war was reaching further into the Outer Rim.

➵

Kinsei found the bedrest unbearable on top of the radiating pain from her leg. She felt as if she were going to fuse to the bed. It had only been three days but it felt like a week. She was so used to chasing after her squadron making sure their X-wings were up to par. She found herself staring out the open window gazing at the mountain ridge where she had landed, it was a sick joke.

Echo came into the room with a deck of cards and a bright smile, it annoyed her how cheery she seemed when all she could feel was pain. All this misplaced anger had been boiling under the surface Echo had seen it time and time again in patients with severe injuries she didn't take Kinsei's anger personally. "You seem more wound up than usual, today do you wanna talk about?" Echo asked taking a seat by the bed as she shuffled the cards in her hands.

"What is there to talk about? How I can barely hear you from that side or how I have to listen to stupid fucking sheep all day on the other side?" Despite one of her eyes being swollen shut she still managed to give Echo a harsh look. Echo's smile didn't falter. She began to deal cards humming quietly she paused looking up for a second, Kinsei had been crying, "I wish I died."

Echo set the cards down reaching for Kinsei's right hand she looked at her in the eye her voice soft, "I don't know you very well but I know you're a fighter, you hear me Miss. Tsokara? You're gonna get better and kick ass at physical therapy and you're gonna look back at this moment and realize you didn't mean what you just said." Kinsei's face tensed up as the rest of her sobs rattled her chest they ached her broken ribs making her cry harder.

Two weeks had passed since Kinsei was allowed to be taken off of bed rest, she found walking with her external fixator it was awkward and it throbbed if she stood too long while she fed the chickens or tended to the sheep. She accepted small jobs around the village they took a little longer than expected as she only could use one of her hands. This new life was foreign instead of fixing up starships she began fixing anything she could to get her free hands of the dull ache of her boredom.

That meant repairing the toaster, the tractor, and rewiring the speeders. Echo was right when she said nothing happens on Shosa. The most action she saw was Chaska chasing after the sheep after the fence had collapsed. A fence she later volunteered to help repair despite having no carpentry skills she needed to repay them for all of their efforts to save her.

Kinsei was in the kitchen doing her best to peel carrots, she leaned over the counter using her cast as leverage to pin the carrots down as she scraped the peeler along the carrots. She found herself staring out the open window at the clouds as they crossed by the blue sky. When she saw Echo sprinting through the treeline her normally soft face hardened by something that troubled her. Her peach colored summer dress had blood on it too much blood Kinsei limped over to the front door whipping it open.

"What happened!?" She asked as Echo rushed in their shoulders clipping as she ran into the house down the hall in the back in the room with Kinsei had surgery. She dragged her leg behind her as she rushed after Echo her heart thudding against her ribs. She hadn't been able to run just yet and it frustrated her she just wanted to be useful.

"We found somebody in the mountains! He's injured I need your blood we might not have enough on hand!" Echo pulled her into the room sitting her on a chair as she inserted a butterfly needle into her arm laying the collection bag on the countertop. Echo dashed back to the front door hearing her mother yell after her for help.

Kinsei ducked her head around the door. She felt the air leave her lungs as she watched Chaska and Echo half drag a man down the hall. He wore full Mandalorian armor, his helmet made of Beskar her stomach lurched watching as Echo shoved a pair of fingers into his side to stop the bleeding from at least two of his wounds at his side. The Mandalorian let out a groan he nearly fell to his feet Echo hugged him around the middle pulling him back up right. Kinsei put a hand to her mouth she wasn’t sure if she was going to curse or get sick.

"Don't you dare get sick on me! We need that room sterile!" Reprimanded Chaska who could see the color drain from Kinsei's face when they nearly dropped him. She backed away as they turned came through the doorway leading him onto the table. Echo's hands reached for his helmet Kinsei put her hand over Echo's, her eyes hardened protective of the Mandalorian Creed.

"The helmet stays on." The look in her eyes sent a chill down Echo's spine she had never seen her look so intense for the first time she felt intimidated by her. She took her hands away from out under Kinsei's grip working on a wound on his side. "We gotta take off your armor to see how bad things are. You're in great hands you're gonna be fine." She said in Mando'a, her native tongue almost felt foreign to her lips she hadn't spoken it in so long.

The Mandalorian's helmet tilted toward her almost when he nodded she hooked her fingers underneath his shoulder pauldrons, his vambraces, and then finally his damaged chest plate. His chest rose fast as he fought through the pain he felt as if his body were on fire. The added weight of the Beskar had been crushing his broken ribs.

Claw marks had cut through the faded red durasteel he was lucky to be alive. The room spun for a moment as she moved quickly nearly fainting where she had been standing. Kinsei looked back to see the blood bag attached to her was nearly full. Echo motioned for her back to into a chair it wasn't up for debate. Kinsei dragged the chair to the Mandalorian's bedside grabbing his hand with hers she squeezed once to let him know she wasn't going anywhere.

Chaska cut through the shirt he wore the Mandalorian was battered underneath his skin mauled by something large, he had a set of bite marks from a large predator on his side. On the other side were four jagged claw marks extending from his armpit to his lower abdomen with blood running to the surface. She wondered how much he had left. He let out a crackled groan feeling both Chaska and Echo prod him with their tools. He squeezed Kinsei's hand back then his grip went limp. Her eyes met Echo's, "His body couldn't handle the pain he's going to be fine. This almost could have been you we have pretty big cats in the mountains." She said while continuing the stitch work along the claw marks her eyes focused as she raced to close the wounds.

"Do you know him?" Asked Chaska as she came around the table removing the needle from Kinsei's arm the scrappy mechanic looked up at her while applying gauze to the puncture wound she shook her head no. She didn't have to know him to want to make sure he was okay, it was a part of The Creed to care for one another.

"He's a Mandalorian there aren't many of them left. I need to make sure he's okay." She kept her eyes on him as Chaska hung up a few pints of blood Echo was still working on small intricate stitch work. She noticed more claw marks on his upper left arm the flesh torn and separated she could see the white of his bone. She didn't think anything on Shosa could be capable of something so gruesome.

"Them? You're a Mandalorian too!" Said Echo the young medic had always been curious about Kinsei's life but never got around to asking Kinsei always seemed tense when she tried to ask. "He can't take his helmet off so why did you?" Echo asked feeling curious about her new friend. Kinsei raked her hand through her hair as she tried to find some way to leave the but she was still light headed.

She sighed feeling defeated it was about time she told them something about herself after all they did save her life, "It's a part of The Creed if you take off your helmet you can never put it back on. This is the way." Her voice sounded as far away as her gaze like she was swimming in memories of the past. The kind of memories that grabbed you and held you down at the bottom until you couldn't breathe.

"I was staying with a small Mandalorian clan on Tatooine after I left home, things were good at first and then the Imperials came. They murdered all of them for the little Beskar armor they owned and let their bodies rot in the sun." She paused to wipe away her tears with the sling not once letting go of the Mandalorian's gloved hand his fingers twitched under the weight of her shaking hand. She hung her head in shame and was never able to forgive herself.

"I decided I'd much rather be a coward and live than to die. So no I'm not a Mandalorian. " Kinsei had always blamed herself for not being able to help defend against the damned Imperials. For years she felt selfish she hadn't been able to stop and help because she had been making repairs on a moisture farm generator for credits instead of being at the homestead defending the clan.

"Oh stars, I'm sorry I didn't mean to ask you something so personal." Echo apologized, keeping her head low as her mother gave her a hard look, she had been curious about Kinsei but the pilot made herself hard to know. Chaska and Echo finished in silence both of them cleaning around Kinsei who hadn't moved in her pensive gaze her grip still tight on the Mandalorian's hand.

"You need to be more careful how you talk to people." Said Chaska while disposing of soiled gauze Echo made a face like she was holding back tears of her own a few slipped Kinsei looked away for a few moments pretending not to notice to give the young medic privacy.

"It's okay, don't be so hard on yourself you didn't know." said Kinsei while looking up at Echo she decided she would try to be more open with Echo to build a friendship with the young woman especially if she was going to be on Shosa for while.

"Kinsei you need to eat something before you pass out on us two pints is a lot of blood missy. Your friend will be fine." Whispered Chaska as she rubbed Kinsei's back until the young pilot opened her eyes slowly standing up right black dots appeared before her eyes as she steadied herself finally letting go of the Mandalorian's hand.

She opened the closet by the window grabbing a wool blanket and draped it over him, she wanted to make sure he was comfortable. Her fingers ran over his armor which sat in a pile on a side table, she missed her armor which was probably at the bottom of a sand dune by now. Buried deep with all of those memories she tried to repress.

"Is there somewhere I can get this fixed?" She asked holding up his durasteel chest plate her fingers tracing the deep claw marks. Chaska pursed her lips together taking it from her then putting it back on the table.

"I'll tell you after you eat." There was an authoritative tone in her voice like a mother scolding her child Kinsei arched an eyebrow following her out of the room. She paused for a moment in the doorway looking back at the Mandalorian. Chaska continued to the kitchen finishing up Kinsei's prep work.

"How long have you been dragging your leg like that?" Asked Echo while she set up an IV into his arm she hung the bag onto the hook she then set up a second IV, Kinsei tried not to make a face as needles had always made her nauseous.

"It's fine I can still put weight on it, see?" Kinsei stood on one leg and for a moment a quick flash of pain shot up through her back. Her face faltered Echo finished up with the Mandalorian's IV then bent down to look at Kinsei's leg. She touched it with the back of her hand checking for the tell tale warmth of infection, she then examined where the pins punctured her skin to set the bone.

"It looks okay just try to take it easy you've been doing too much too soon." Echo had the same stern look as her mother however Echo's features made her soft, her brows drew together watching Kinsei lean up against the wall taking her weight off the leg. There was a bit of sweat building on her brow. She looked exhausted, "If it ever hurts too much let us know we can help you.” Echo put a comforting hand on Kinsei’s shoulder she nodded knowing she'd never admit to she had a feeling she'd lose it if she did.

"Tell me about the thing that hurt him. Should we be worried about them coming down from the mountain?" Kinsei quickly changed the subject walking alongside side Echo trying to keep at a normal pace. She took a seat on a stool across from Chaska who was standing at the kitchen island she had made quick work of the carrots Kinsei had left behind.

"We have pretty big mountain lions out here probably just as big as your X-wing. It's one of the reasons why we check the mountains looking for injured people." Judging by the look she had on her face Kinsei was certain she had lost someone close out there, "Mr. Mando over there is lucky to be alive. He managed to take down two that's unheard of around here." She excused herself to clean herself off her words where curt Kinsei could tell she was uncomfortable.

Echo was wearing a good amount of his blood. It was staind deep along her hands crusting underneath her nails there was the taste of bile rising in her mouth as she watched Echo sprint off into the fresher.

"Try not to think too hard about him. He'll be sore as hell but he'll live. Worry about something else like how shit your knife work is." Quipped Chaska with a raised brow it brought a chuckle to Kinsei's lips. She watched as Chaska meticulously planking through the carrots in nice even lines.

➵

Dinner came and went but sleep never came for Kinsei, she felt restless in the guest room her mind just couldn’t settle down. So much had happened in such a short amount of time seeing the injured Mandalorian left her rattled. It was around three in the morning when she finally got up. Wrapping a blanket around herself she walked down the hall into where the Mandalorian had been sleeping. She took a seat on the floor crossing her legs as she looked up at him. He seemed at peace but she knew from experience it wasn't always so peaceful. While she was under anesthesia her mind kept replaying her crash landing in an endless loop until she managed to regain her consciousness.

"Not wearing your armor doesn't make you any less of a warrior." Even through the modulator his voice sounded week as if he were whispering he had responded in Mando'a she stood up taking a seat at his bedside. She smiled sadly while shaking her head in disagreement. "People like us are always fighting." Added the Mandalorian with a groan as he frisked his side exploring his injuries.

"I'll always be dar'manda nothing more than a hut’tuun. I'm just a pilot and I can't even land right." She grit her teeth feeling frustrated as a quick current of pain shot it's way through her body. She felt like she deserved all the pain she was going through for losing her heritage it was a big disgrace amongst the Mandalorian Creed. It was a heavy weight on her chest, one that seemed to always rear its ugly head when she was feeling most vulnerable.

"It was a difficult choice after the great purge many went into hiding whether it's in plain sight it's all the same. Our people will always need people like you. You protected my honor and for that I thank you." She wished he couldn't see the look on her face, she put a hand to mask the ugly cry she was failing to swallow down.

"Does it hurt?" She asked looking him over he shook his helmet no but she could tell judging by his short breaths he was just as stubborn as she was. She drew back the blankets noticing he had bled through his bandages she turned around to look for the supplies she'd need to redress his wounds.

Kinsei gathered the bandage and the gauze using the soft moonlight to guide her as she groped through drawers. “Can I ask you something?” She muttered as the Mandalorian sat up peeling away his own bandages, a soft hiss escaping his helmet it looked like it wasn’t the first time he had to do this.

The Beskar of his helmet caught the shine of the moon as he tilted his head while cutting through medical tape aligning it on to his tanned chest, she sat slumped forward her arms on her knees as she looked up to him. “On your travels have you seen a pair of Mandalorians with a signet of a snake on their chestplate?” Her voice soft scared of what his answer might be she looked away watching his fingers graze over what used to be a puncture wound on his side.

"There aren't that many of us out there. The people you're looking for may have gone into hiding." It wasn't the answer she wanted to hear but she knew it would have been too easy. He struggled with removing the bandage on his arm. She peeled away the medical tape gathering the dirty bandages disposing of them before returning to the spot beside him. Holding the bandage down with her fingers as the Mandalorian handed her tape.

The silence between them didn't bother her Kinsei was in her own head trying to process his words. Knowing her fathers' the were smart and resourceful they would be safe she was certain of it.

"Thank you for listening to me, I'm sorry for disturbing you." She whispered reapplying the last piece of medical tape before heading back to the guest room. With each step past the main bedrooms she let out a small whimper she nearly fell through the door of the guest bedroom as she held onto her left leg. The other arm kept her held up against the wall her vision blurred she hopped into bed panting as the pain continued she felt as if her nerves were pulling and stretching. She pulled a pillow over her face to muffle the sounds of her crying.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Mando’a key:

Dar’manda: a state of not being Mandalorian - not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and his soul - regarded with absolute dread by most traditionall-minded Mando'ade

Hut’tuun: coward (worst possible insult)

#mando x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x oc #din djarin x oc #star wars oc #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #dyn jarren x oc

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jetblackpayne · 6 years ago

Text

𝒾. 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝑀𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇𝐻𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

summary: In which Arden Keaton (OC) and her family move into the infamous “MurderHouse.” Along her stay, she meets the victims and 2 teenager in particular. Together, they help her uncover truths and mysteries of her abilities. [shitty description don’t @ me]

wc: 4k+

pairings: (OC x murderhouse)(OC x Michael Langdon!soon)

warning: brief mention of descriptive cutting and marks, swearing/language, blood.

° :. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮ °: .*₊ ° . ° . • ☆ ✮　°:.*₊ ° . ° . •

I never knew if what I've experienced was real. Recurring thoughts of them being nothing more than illusions. Everything Ive known my whole life seemed normal to me. After all, I've been doing it forever; so it seemed almost frightening that it was abnormal to people like my sister and my father. I didn't figure it out on my own. I was told but something that was once living; Beyond the walls of the house with a gruesome history. Sometimes I feel like I belong in a different world with people like me. My mother said she felt the same; seems as though she's about the only one. Unknowing of what I could possess, I was frightened. Frightened of what power would do to a person who couldn't harness it. After all, fear of a name or ability only increases fear is the thing itself. Why should I start to fear things now when I should have been of myself the whole time?

° :. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　°:.*₊ ° . ° .

A light breeze swept through the creaking floorboards of Murder House. The history of the house was horrid, beyond imaginable; or so the retail lady, whom the youngest daughter, Arden could never remember the name of, told her family. The Keaton family certainly didn't know why they were getting themselves into. If they were getting themselves into. Arden slowly trailed behind her family as she made her way up the path to the front doors of their new house. Chills ran down her body as she view the exterior of the house; Arden didn't know how to feel. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. When she stepped in, she felt as if she were being swallowed whole. Her vision then began to flicker like lights. She shifted her eyes as she saw dozens of people doing their own thing. Some were watching television. Most were just talking to one another as they walked around the house as if it were theirs. Once. The mysterious people, all at once diverted their sight from their previous activities to look in the direction of their seer. Slowly, they walked toward her in a steady manner. Vacant expressions on their faces which somehow felt hollow. She hesitantly walked back as she hit the wall behind her. Hands reaching out to grab her as if they were contemplating her existence. Her breathing pace quickened; unable to yell for help. Just as they were about to touch her, the light flickered again. She gasped as her gaze reverted from the dull wallpaper that looked like it was put up in the 1800's; to the chandelier that look like it was a few screws loose of colliding with the floor; then back to her family and the retail lady who walked in like the sight was ordinary. She looked at them in disbelief, "Did you see that?" She gasped at them walking in as if they hadn't envisioned the horrific sight. The retail lady shifted uncomfortably. Her eyes diverted to the cherry-wood floor beneath them and began to click her short heels lightly.

"See what?" James Keaton, her father spoke as his hand rested on her shoulder blade. The sudden impact sent her flying a few feet away from her father. She looked around the room one more time to see if the people would come out again. Nothing. She couldn't tell what saw. The illusion lead her mind into a spiral, "The people?" she stated pointing to mid-air. Although she couldn't convince her self if it was more of a question or not.

"People?" Her older sister Mary Keaton started to question her younger sisters silly accusations. "What people?"

"The people—." Arden began to loose her mind. She could have sworn there were others present in the house the moment she walked in. "I could have sworn there were people walking around. They were doing things."

"What kind of things?"

"Like I'd know!" She exclaimed as she walked back to the front doors of the house. She reached the already open doorframe and turned around to face her family and the retail lady once again, "Normal house things. Now please. Can we look at another house?”

"We don't have a choice Ar." Nancy Keaton, her mother, spoke up, "We already put a down payment on this house. It was half the price we would have payed in the valley." Arden glanced up at her with disbelief. Her mother was a different story when it came to family. She felt a connection with her. Her aura, Arden felt, resembled hers the way her sister and fathers could never. Despite the mutual similarities, it was always clear when they weren't on the same page. Like now; Of course her parents purchases a house without her consent. It wouldn't come as a shock to her as if it were true. Her family, to her, usually left ger out of discussions. Claiming she was was too young; as if 17 were too young. She was practically an adult to the world. Sometimes she contemplated that it was more than just age. Maybe it was just her. Her mom looked at her for a brief second before continuing to conversate with the retail lady.

Her older sister glaced in her direction. She could have sworn a smirk rose on her lips. "I should know. After all, I came with them."

Arden's body shuttered in annoyance. Her head turned slowly, trying to regain her thought process to face her older sister. "So while I was at Camp Redwood, you looked at and placed a down payment without my say?" Mr. and Mrs. Keaton avoided eye contact with their youngest daughter. She couldn't tell if it was out of guilt or simply not caring. Arden turned to face the retail lady and gave a snarky smile in her direction. She could feel the lady's uncomfortable stance in the midst of their debacle. Her face stayed static as she looked over to her family, "The less I know the better right? I mean them I won’t feel too bad in the long run.” Her family shared a glance with each other.

The retail lady walked over to the parents with her cream coloured clip board in her hand. A pen in between her frail fingers and she motioned for Mr. Keaton to retrieve it. He took both from her; skimming the paper of the house details when his eyes fixated on one section; the history of the house section. "Now would be as good as ever to tell you behind the walls of this house."

"You mentioned some people got murdered." James Keaton spoke up taking the pen and clipboard from her, beginning to sign the legal documents of the house. Arden's stomach dropped as if she were riding a rollercoaster. She felt eyes burning on her on the back of her head. Glancing around, she found nothing but dark corners of the unlit portion of the house. Her feelings were rarely incorrect. It was both rather scary and brilliant.

"37." The lady spoke up making the fours heads spin fast. Thier hearts dropped at the big number of deaths in the house they stood in. Arden didn’t wanna know where either. She was afraid as it was and didn’t want it radiating off her. 37? What kind of butchery is this?

"And let me ask you something," James tapped the paper with the end of the pen. His lips pursed in gas his eyebrows cocked, "H-How many people, per say, owned this house?"

"37." Arden shook her head in disbelief as the absurd words left the ladies mouth.

"Don't you think after every single person whose owned this house got murdered, they wouldn't put it out on the market?" Arden spoke stating the elephant in the room. "And how do we know there's no dead people roaming around this place. Pretty sure what I saw wasn't a coincidence. I feel like Raven Baxter." Her mother have her a look without Arden's knowledge. A stinging sensation at the back of her head caused the girl to hissed. Her eyes divertaed at her mother. Her eyes gleamed a darker green then her original. Her teeth bitin the inside of her lip. Arden looked at her with a frightened look. Her mother didn’t act this way. It was like something was controlling her body; or was it? She didn’t know what to think after what she saw and felt. Her eyes swapped shades like a mood ring.

”Yeah dead people kinda freak me out." Mary said to Janet as she scratched the back of her neck. She bit her lip as she looked away from the retail lady.

Arden scoffed, "Please," She walked slowly up to her sibling with her arms crossed over her chest. She huffed out a breath she was unaware of holding and rolled her eyes at her sibling. She looked at her dead in the eye as her venomous worlds rolled off her tongue, "You practically live with one," and she was off. Her steps took her up the stairs where she's would 'claim' her new room. Her footsteps creaked up the old-floorboards; one louder than the next on purpose. She couldn’t deny the houses beauty despite looking straight out of a Stephen King novel. The wide-set hallways were nothing more than an illusion to Arden. It felt to her as though it were getting longer in distance to the several doors on the walls. Each door looked like it were the same but a different story lied behind the hinges. Arden looked at several doors in the hallway seeing different scenarios occurring before her eyes. A woman in agony crying over a baby. Two nurses covered in blood. Her mind was spiralling as she felt her eyes roll back into her head stumbling onto a door she had yet to look into. She looked around the room and took long drags of oxygen into her lungs. The room smelled of fresh paint and cigarette smoke. The walls coated in light grey paint that looked like it wasn’t even. The paint dried rolling off the side of the windows and bottom corners. Her eyes landed on the ceiling; only to stumble to the ground backing away slowly clutching her arms tightly. Her heart skipped a few beats; that or it dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Above her in her we're the words written in red, 'Welcome to MurderHouse.’

° :. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　°:. *₊ ° . ° . •° :. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮ °:.

Her mother and father eventually came up after not hearing from thier youngest daughter and despite the many apologies to her, she knew it would happen again. They saw her state and cleaned up the red lettering. Unable to tell what it was, Arden wanted to believe it was red marker; no matter what her mind was bebunking. The movers eventually came when Mr. Keaton convielntly, yet idiotically signed the papers. Mr . Keaton was a man of many things; he was titled, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. The title obviously getting to his head, he thought he knew everything. Arden knew he wouldn’t have been able to live a day knowing what she knew. If he had saw what she did, he wouldn’t have stupidly signed the papers claiming their rights to the house. Mrs. Keaton definitely had her fair share of suspicion. She knew her youngest daughter wasn’t crazy for envisioning the people she claimed to have seen. Her eyes saw the same. Dead people roaming around the house; some radiating a more dangerous than the other. She knew her husband was trying to do what was best for his family, and the house so happened to be in the heart of Los Angeles and conviently cheap for its condition. Dispite is foolis actions, his wife knew he meant well. After all, she knew he couldn’t be able to live a second as her. Arden to her knowledge, was very similar to her. Mirroring almost. She would grow up to be powerful.

Mrs. Keaton walked into the room they claimed as the family room. She came across a black leather couch set up sandwiched around a rectangular coffee table. Just as the movers were about to take the set away, she stopped them hastily, “No, we’ll keep that. Everything in this room. The rest else can go.” The men obliged and quickly left so the family could settle. Meanwhile, Arden began to decorate her new room. Her white walls paired with dark purple curtains. The bed coated with lilac sheets. The cherry wood flood boards covered continuously by a light grey rug. Delicate fairy lights strung all along the top corners of her walls, cascading to the frame above her bed.

"Nice fairly lights." A voice spoke behind the girl. Chills ran down her spine to the voice that seemed unrecognisable. She turned around to find a dirty blonde-haired girl a little taller than her looking around with a cigarette loosely hanged from her lips. Arden looked at her with disbelief and fascination. How did she get in? "But I prefer it a little dimmer. Im not a big fan of rethinking if the suns in my room or not.” The girl walked up to her and inhaled the smoke from her cancer stick. Her eyes peering dead in Arden's soft ones. Something, to her, didn't feel right. The beats from her heart began to quicken its pace as her mouth felt like a desert. The girl exhaled the smoke directly in her face. The fumes travelled up Arden's nose and in her eye sockets. Her eyes clouded as her vision got narrow. She saw a girl walking down a trail. Teenagers parting ways with friends. The girl was the same girl in her room. She looked the same. She inhaled smoke from her cigarette as she passed by a group of three other girls. The leader of the group kept yelling and taunting her for smoking on school grounds. The leader, who finally had enough of the other girls half-ass responses, tried to shove the cigarette down her throat. The struggling girl who she just met, spat in her face running away with a victorious smirk. "YOU ARE DEAD! YOU ARE DEAD!" She screamed after her. Arden took a deep breath to only find her nose dripping. Her hand went to touch it to pull with blood under her fingernails. The crimson streak fell between her teeth as the taste of metal lingered in her mouth. A shaky breath huffed out of her lungs and into the cold air. Arden's heart was rapidly pumping in and out of her chest as if she ran a marathon.

"Holy shit! What was that?” The blonde girl who was in her flash/vision asked Arden. The girl reached a hand to Arden. Her arm accidentally moving across her collarbone to hold her shoulder in comfort. The sleeve of her darl blue shirt rode up to reveal marks on her delicate skin. Some cuts deeper and fresher looking than others. The red lines making her skin look like it were drained from every drop of blood in her body. She began to feel nauseous. Her head bobbing down, bouncing back up every so often telling herself not to give in. Her eyes rolled around the room landing on the opened door. From her spot, a clear view of the bathroom came into sight. She began to see tunnel vision. She saw the girl next to the sink with a razor in her hand. Gradually pushing the sharp object into her wrists, pressing lightly and harder over different spots on her arm. Reopening new cuts as blood tan down her arm dripping onto the marble floor. Tears streaming down her face as she looked at herself in the mirror. Arden stumbled back placing her hand on the back of a rolling chair near her desk; she fell back on the floor; the carpeted spot brawling her fall. What was the sight I saw? Gasping for air, her hand came up to her heart as a whimper arose from her throat. Tears clouded her eyes. Her hands went up to wipe the tears in her eyes, when she felt them thicker than usual. Her finger tips pulled away to see blood. "You're fucking bleeding out of your eye sockets!"

“You say it like I don’t know.” Arden scoffed at the girl stating the obvious. Propping her feet on the ground as she slowly stood up, Arden brushed off the dirt from her skirt faced the stranger in her 'room.' "Not to come off as paranoid, but what are you doing in my room?"

“Oh do you do speak?” The girl challenged, "I'm Violet." She stepped forward and shook her hand ignoring her question at hand. Arden took a step back as the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stood up like needles. The girl was cold. Like dead winter. "I used to live here but," she paused and she looked at the inside of her forearm that brushed against Arden, “Something happened."

"What?" Arden questioned. She wanted to know the meaning behind the flash.

"None of your business." Violet scoffed snapping at the girls ridiculous question.

"Okay well it's not my fault that you decided to wander into my house, then decide to tell me your life story then give me no answers to why you're in my room."

Violet was taken aback as her eyes flickered between her clothed arms, cigarette then to the girl in front of her. Taking etched out strides towards Arden, Arden slowly backed away, "I never told you anything new girl."

“Sup I'm Tate," A voice said off in the far corner of her room. Arden's heart thumped out of her chest without her body physically moving. She had gotten pretty good at it. The boy, 'Tate,' movedcloser to her as she stood still, unsure of why this is happening to her. Not one, but two people entered her house of 15 minutes. Tate finally stood in front of her, eye averting to hers. His head bent down as his lips gently graze Arden's ear. Her breaths hitched slightly as his large hands came in contact with her wrist. He used the advantage to lean forward, "Wanna hookup?" Arden's eyes saw shapes in what looked to be a kaleidoscope effect. Her mind hurt. Not again.. Her thoughts swirled as she saw a blonde boy sitting on the bed. His wavy blonde hair framed his face and chiselled jaw line. This boy had to have been a creation from the Gods themselves. His piercing blue eyes looking i'm the direction of Arden's vision as if he knew of her presence. Smirking as he looked to her distinct direction. He looked about her age, if not older. He turned his head from her direction to the floor playing with his hands, to what looked like agony. Who hurt him? To his right, a man who looked to be in his late thirties and the shaggy blonde boy who asked her to hook up. The boy muttered something about Tate being his father. They looked the same age. This boy might be pretty, but must be on something.. Tate lost it and sprang forward; only to be caught by the man. The boy, startled, leaned back on the bed a little. "You didn't spring from my nutsack; GOT IT!" Tate spat at the boy harshly making Arden wince. Tears threatening to spill from the boys ducts. His lip quivering slightly. "Not even I could create something as monstrous. As evil as YOU." Tates pupils darkened at the sight of the boy in front of him. Arden's mind came back to reality and yanked her wrist from his tight grip. The warm feeling of blood trickling down both sides of her face. The base of her ear socket felt cold as the stillness in the room coated her sorrows. Tate gave her a look of disbelief, "Why the fuck are your ears bleeding?"

"That's not all," Violet stepped forward, briefly sharing contact with Tate. She took another drag of her cigarette as the boy looked over his shoulder. He saw what once was his, diminish behind the smoke. It was all his fault. His lifeless heart ached for hers, and although being as stubborn and misleading as ever, Violets did too. She turned her head to look away from his captivating stare, "Her nose and eyes were too. Fucking mental.”

"Fucking wicked" Tate gasped as he looked at Arden struggling to wipe the blood from the four holes it came dripping down.

“You two aren’t like anyone Ive met. It’s like don’t belong here but you do in a way..” Arden trailed off as she pressed a tissue to wipe and absorb the blood the best she could.

“So you noticed?” Tate asked the girl with a small smirk. Violet gave him a look powerful enough to kill. She shook her head back and forth taking a hit of her cigarette for the hundredth time it seemed. Arden closed her eyes from the smoke. She didn’t want to have another flash. She’s experienced them before but not as triggering as the ones in this house. The house harnessed negative energy. She could feel the pain embodied in her as if it were attached to her soul. It seemed quiet in the room. Still air and white noise from the curling fan were heard. Not even breathing from the two teenagers in her room. Her eyes opened to find lingering smoke and the two gone.

° :. *₊ ° . ☆✮　 °:.*₊ ° . ° . •

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labyrinth-of-headcanons · 7 years ago

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Hairpin

Chapter IV

Main Pairing: Kouen X Chaima (OC) Genre: Romance/Drama

Like the tradition requires, Chaima was supposed to give the hairpin to the man she’d marry. While she never believed in the day to come, for her to really follow her mother’s words, she couldn’t have foreseen one little accident that would turn her life around in the little time they spent together. However, with Kouen’s sharp words and keen mind, it was only a matter of time until she found herself falling more and more for the prince that captured her heart.

a/n: And chapter four. It’s coming along easier than I thought. I was looking forward to the moment, they’d finally be able to interact so bless this chapter for making it happen lol. Anyhow, let me know what you thought!

The scene that unfolded in front of her felt utterly unreal. By the time she reached the passing point between the entrance hall - which either lead to the dining room, saloon or further inside the mansion - and the servant’s corridor, her body had completely given up. Her mind could neither come up with any other scenario that could save her from this, nor give any commands to her body. In her frustration and fear, she had made her way to the meeting point, only to stand awkwardly and motionless in the middle of the room.

However, the prince sat alone on one for the four elegant, red cushioned chairs that were offered to guests to have a seat as they waited. Aside from his everlasting serious expression, he didn’t give the impression of being tense. In fact, he might have been the most relaxed Chaima could imagine him to be. And yet, she still didn’t have it in her to approach him while her co-worker did so with as much submissiveness as he could. She heard how he started to speak, his words noble, just like he was taught to handle guests of this caliber.

“Your Majesty, I have brought the person you requested. Please excuse me.” After a sweeping motion of the prince’s hand, the butler bowed, leaving the place and Chaima behind. Her brain screamed at her to do anything. Approach, smile, bow, talk. Be pleasant, be present, as the motto went. But she could do nothing. Her feet felt as if they had rooted on the wooden boards of the floor underneath her. Mouth dry, she gritted her teeth so much that if she had started to cry, it could have very well been from the pain she felt.

The shuffling of fabric was what made her get a grip on herself, as she observed how the prince slowly rose from his chair after having stared at the maid for a while. “Am I going to show myself to my room?” he asked. There was no amusement in his voice, even though his words could have very well hinted at him making fun of her. It made her anxious and even a little angry. If he was going to toy with her life that easily then he was a cruel man, how she figured. Nevertheless, Chaima slowly gained control over her limbs, shaking her head to disagree.

“No, of course not, Your Highness,” she started, lowering her gaze down to the floor and curtsied before quietly adding, “Forgive my insolence.” She could feel the tears burning up in her eyes as she was reminded of the happenings only hours ago, where she had to show similar gestures. Since she didn’t believe that this was going to end well for her, she felt endlessly frustrated. Prince Kouen didn’t even bother to say anything, instead, gesturing for her to lead the way with his hand. Apparently, he is even too noble to talk to me, Chaima thought, putting on a meek smile and moved over to the sliding door leading further inside the mansion.

Using both hands, she slid it open, taking a step aside and letting the prince proceed first. It was the way she had been taught to behave. No looking into his eyes and no talking of unnecessary words. Always look indifferent as her opinion wasn’t needed, and out of courtesy, always bow and be thankful of a noble following her lead. These weren’t hard to understand rules, and yet they made her sick to the stomach. No matter how often she had to suck up to anyone in her life, may it have been her employer or the guests they welcomed, Chaima always thought that it was so wrong. She had kept these thoughts to herself all this time, but on this particular evening, she had trouble containing herself while facing her doom with every step she took.

The two moved to the indoor hallway around the inner garden. For a second, Chaima thought about mentioning something about the plants that were assembled in the small pit. The night was clear and quiet, but also dark and only the light of the candle lamps brightened their way to go. Even if she had mentioned the beautiful flowers, the prince wouldn’t have been able to see them through the windows anyway. It was simply too dark outside. So she kept quiet, proceeding down the hallway.

On the small intersection leading straight ahead or right through another door, she didn’t turn, moving straight forward to the guest chambers. The only sound that let her know that he was still following her were his footsteps. To her surprise, she found them to be rather tender for a man who was as tall and sturdy as he was. Then again, what did she know? Maybe his clothes let him appear like this and nothing more. The thought of him being not so imposing when he took off his garments cleared her mood a little bit, and she could feel a rush of happiness going through her for a moment. Cautiously, she bit onto her lip as to not smile and upset anyone.

They passed the first two guest rooms on her left and the meeting room as well as the first bedroom on her right. Chaima assumed that since he was the most important of the three, he should stay in the far back for safety reasons. At that moment, she realized she had no idea about how they were supposed to be divided. Swallowing down a big gulp of panic, she proceeded to open the room on her right side carefully. She was happy to find that the light had already been lit in anticipation inside the bedroom. For a moment, Chaima tried to see if the luggage that was stored there seemed manly, but she was disappointed by the plain, red boxes that really could have been for any person.

Prince Kouen wasn’t as anxious about entering the room as Chaima was. However, he seemed interested in checking the boxes too, as he approached them with determination. “Close the door,” he ordered, sounding as demanding as ever and waiting impatiently as she pushed the door back in place. Only when she heard the clicking of the locks that sprung open on the boxes behind her, Chaima realized that maybe she wasn’t supposed to go into the room with him, making her situation worse for her.

She stood facing the wall with her back to him, needing to collect all her courage to glimpse over her shoulder shyly. Kouen had kneeled down, unfazed by her presence and opening one of the three boxes. From her point of view, she was able to make out some scrolls that were stored neatly inside of them, hearing him grunt before getting up again. “You.” Her heart instantly dropped into her stomach as she slowly turned around, her hand holding on to the door grip to leave at any second. Wrong room, wrong room, wrong room, she sang in her head, feeling how her forehead began to emit sweat pearls from the panic that drove through her.

To her dismay, the prince liked taking his time before continuing his words. He rolled his head from left to right, letting his eyes take in the room. On the wall left from the door, the boxes were placed, taking up the least amount of space as possible. Across them resided the big bed. It was a traditional one, made from dark wood and fitted specifically for the room. Wood carvings enclosed the resting space, and it was laid out with comfortable bedding. In all her life, Chaima had never seen a such an impressive bed, given she never worked as a housekeeper, and it left quite the impression on her.

Furthermore, there was a table made from the same wood as the bed, as well as a chair to sit on. The backside had sliding doors, which left it free from any furniture blocking the path. For the time being, however, they remained closed to secure the rooms for the guests. Outside was a small pathway leading to the garden. It was then that Chaima had an idea of how to escape her misery. Coughing lightly, she darted past the prince, checking the locks of the sliding door, opening the way to the outdoor area to make sure no one could come in easily while the prince rested. All that she did while the latter was still inspecting his new residence for the week, giving her the chance to build her plan on the surprise moments of her actions.

Once she proved herself of everything being alright, she turned to him. By now his eyes had fixated on her as he watched what she was doing. Chaima quickly curtsied again, reassuring him by saying, “I hope the room is to Your Highness’s liking. I will now leave you to your rest. If you’ll excuse me.” When she opened her eyes after the bow, she only had the door leading to the hallway in mind and made hasty steps towards it, eager to leave this room and survive the day. But that wouldn’t turn out like she wished it would.

His arm raised fast in front of her, and she could barely stem her feet into the ground to not run against it with full speed. It was a border to keep her from leaving, and he had erected it, knowing exactly what she had planned. “Not excused,” he simply stated, his voice making her freeze in the position she had after stopping. Chaima couldn’t even bear to look up or speak a word, the nervousness turning her into stone. Regardless, the prince lowered his arm, moving past her. She heard the rustling of fabric as Kouen took off his black cape, throwing it over the railing around the bed. He didn’t seem to concern himself with the worth of the cape, or that it should be handled better than just being thrown somewhere.

Holding on to his right shoulder he rolled it a few times - Chaima had noticed the weird golden head of a lion that seemed to rest in that particular spot, maybe it was actually pretty heavy? - while walking over to the table and pulling out the chair from its position. She could only stare as he dragged it over the floor, in front of the boxes and facing the bed. “Sit,” he demanded, pointing at the chair with his left pointer finger like you would when commanding a dog. However, Chaima saw herself in no position to disobey, so she followed his orders. In fact, she even looked like a scolded puppy, trembling slightly as she took a seat, trying to look anywhere but him.

Unfazed, he marched to the bed, letting himself sink into the entrance to the resting space, and crossed his arms. If one hadn’t known better, he could have been her father, scolding his daughter for something stupid she did. Maybe that thought isn’t too far off, she told herself, trying to find any last piece of comfort as the situation seemed to continue to worsen for her. Though only through the little bit she let herself look at him - not daring to look at his face - she also had to find out that he was still extremely well-built underneath his large coat. With that, the bubbly thoughts she had about him actually being a wimp underneath his clothes burst, and she was left with no comforting thoughts to turn to anymore.

The moment of silence that fell over the two of them was unbearable. There was nothing funny she could have thought of to keep her from having paranoid scenarios playing through her mind again. This was it. From this point onwards, it would only get worse, that she was sure of. Chaima almost missed the moment he picked up his words again, as her mind had drifted off into the world of her fears. However, his stern voice was able to reach her even through the panic ringing in her ears.

“You are the one from this afternoon, right?” Inwardly she let out a deep sigh. Oh, he got her. He got her so good. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her. However, it still did as she had planted hope inside of her mind until the end. What am I supposed to do? she asked herself. Letting different ways of how to handle the situation run through her brain while she kept staring at the floor. Chaima found herself at the end of her wits soon enough. Clenching her fists, Chaima did the only thing that seemed appropriate in this situation. Gliding from the chair, she fell to her knees, laying out her hands on the cold, wooden planks of the floor and bowing deep, just how she had done before.

“I am so sorry!” she wept. By now there was nothing holding her back. All the anxiety and stress that had built over the last few hours washed out of her and gave her tears a free fall from her eyes. The salty water burned up her nose and the corner of her eyes, but it also freed her from the burden finally. “I should have been more careful, that should-” she took a deep breath, swallowing the big knot that was building in her throat before proceeding, “-That should never have happened!” Chaima barely managed to hold back the sobs, but she fought through them, feeling how her pride seemed to build up again slowly.

There was a moment of no words spoken before she heard the thud of his foot in front of her. She felt herself trembling at the pause between them and bit her lip in an attempt to find some hold, readying herself for anything that could happen now. Nevertheless, she remained in her position, not daring to get up and face him. It was then that he replied to her scene and she heard something small bumping against the wood in front of her. When she looked up, he had lowered his hand, his pointer impatiently tapping onto the floor with the knuckle. Noticing her seeing his gesture he spoke to her again, saying, “Come on.” A bit perplexed and confused, she just looked up at him for a moment. She noticed that not only his voice was not as strict and demanding as before, but his face appeared to be much softer, aside from the many wrinkles that still grazed it.

Unsure, she carefully placed her hand in his, and with a fast tug, he pulled her and himself up. She was softly nudged backwards to the chair, flopping down the moment her knee pits came in contact with the material. The prince also took another step back to sit down again, facing her once more and taking a deep breath. While she felt confused about what exactly just happened, the tears still streamed down her rosy cheeks, and it made him raise his hand to his mouth and clear his throat. Reaching over to his cape, he turned the fabric over before pulling out a white piece of cloth, shaking it open and holding it towards her.

“Here.” He let the piece of fabric wave in the air, animating her to take it with confusion. Her hand reached out slowly towards it, her body moving on its own accord. “Thank you…” she mumbled, feeling the cold silk against her skin and using a corner of it to dab it onto her eyes tenderly. She did so until the tears seemed to be absorbed by either the fabric or her dried-out skin, but at least there were no more coming when she was finished. For a second, she thought about giving it back to him. But she decided not to, fearing what might still await her.

“I take this as that it was indeed you, who we stumbled upon while traveling here.” Chaima had her eyes fixated on the floor, biting her lip as she started to nod. Slowly at first but then very determined, she shook her head up and down, finally looking up at his face while clutching her fingers into the napkin. “Yes, that was me. I had taken my eyes off of the youngest son for a moment and... He simply escaped my grasp.” There was a short moment of silence that felt like an eternity, before she heard him say, “Is that so…” Chaima could barely believe her eyes as an amused smirk fell over the prince’s lips. But it was gone just as fast as it had come.

A little flabbergasted about what just happened, she suddenly found some courage in the change of his expression. “Did you- What… Is everything alright, Your Highness?” He turned his face back to her completely, the same expressionless look residing on it as always. “Indeed. You angered Ka Koubun quite a bit.” She instantly regretted asking, her face flushing red from the embarrassment. It was no laughing matter for her, and she felt like he was having fun dragging her on again. It fueled a small flame of anger in her and acting in spite, Chaima made the decision to bring her misery to an end.

“What will happen to me now, Your Highness?”

She kept her voice soft, an underlying fear echoing in it. He was able to make out her panic through her expression, eyes widened, and her hands clenched while resting in her lap. She looked tenser than what he had expected her to be. True, it may have been his intention to confront her about this matter and maybe get himself some peace of mind, but after seeing her prior reaction, he had to wonder about the straightforwardness she showed him now. For a second, he felt the interest bloom inside of him, but he quickly dismissed that feeling. “Nothing,” he answered, making it sound like this was the most natural conversation he ever had.

“Nothing?” Chaima repeated.

“Nothing,” he confirmed once more, a hint of impatience reaching her.

Then again, she just couldn’t let this sit on her like this. “Nothing is going to happen?” she asked again, not believing in her ability to hear and understand words. She could only see his body tensing as he took a deep breath and she unconsciously shied away deeper into her chair. The two stared at each other for a while before Chaima gained the fragments of all her teachings about etiquette back. Quickly, she averted her eyes, blushing lightly as she felt awkward about the happenings.

“You may leave now,” he said. These words were unreal in her mind as she gave him a meek smile and crooked her head to the side. She had a short “Okay?” moment in her mind, as she stood up slowly, moving around the chair to pick it up and place it back at the table again. Moving back in front of him, she bowed politely. “Thank you, Sire.” Chaima didn’t get far, her hand resting at the handle of the sliding door that would guarantee her access to the hallways before she heard the prince speak up once more.

“What’s your name?” She turned slightly to him, giving him another look directly into his eyes. “It’s Chaima, Sir.” Kouen nodded once at her, and she could hear how he took another deep breath. “Goodnight, Chaima.” There was no hesitation in the way he spoke her name - even though she was no one important to him - and for a moment, she could only stare at him, her mouth opened partway. Feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, she looked away from him, bowing slightly and opening the door before replying, “Goodnight, Your Highness.”

Only much later she noticed that she still had the napkin he gave her. Chaima hoped she’d remember to return it to him in the morning, but somehow, she found it to be very comforting after this long day.

#Magi #magi: the labyrinth of magic #Magi: Sinbad no Bouken #sinbad no bouken #snb #Magi Imagines #Magi Headcanons #Magi Scenarios #OC #OC story #fanfiction #oc shipping #OCXCanon #OW #Hairpin

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northlight14 · 4 years ago

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okay, why not? INFO DUMP TIME BABEY

my wip. only the characters are well rounded rn, there is literally no plot and its mostly ????!!()e839002 research23)- how long does a black eye take to heal>mjiwqo3 but its ridiculously fun to daydream abt. ive only told one other person (an online frnd) and im SO bad at explaining it but theyre so nice abt it so like. :)x 10. im just wiritng out scenes that come to mind and stuff, first draft era but uh. yeah thats pretty much all ive been doing. that and get into ace attorney- im watching the gameplay/ walkthrough, finished the edgeworth case (THE TIMELINE IS HARD TO NAVIGATE IVE GIVEN UP), but theres an anime?? and spinoffs?? and the cases are all 4+hrs long?????? beautiful. AND i finally started watching venom (2018) bc another frnd recommended it, only 10mins in rn asdfgfds but hey the fan art is cute. this fixation is wearing off but detroit become human. like its fun, the game part- the actual art? animation? idk but its really good, but the story can be a bit. eh. like its good its fine but theres are gaping issues+ ??? idk. wanting to get into digital art but i have other shit to do rn (till mid dec) so maybe ill look into it a bit later. I CAN ACTUALLY DRAW THE OCS IN MY WIP THEN YESS ( i say as if i can draw a circle rn but shh ill figure it out someday). and uh. this is really fun just oversharing w ppl bc thats my real life strategy for making friends too. yknow that vulnerability post? this is kinda that i guess asdfgfds. thanks for doing this, its rlly fun! i shld do it myself sometime. and YES I WANT TO HEAR ABT UR STUFF TOO. <3

Hey sorry if it took me a while to respond. Just woke up and had to get ready for collage etc. I’m typing this on the bus.

Anyway, that’s really cool! I’m currently doing a similar thing in terms of characters etc. I made some OC’s for a series I like but recently I’ve been wanting to make them their own thing away from that series. I get what you mean as well about day dreaming about the characters and different scenes, it’s so much fun! I’m still working out an actual plot as well and have a few things written.

I’ve heard of ace attorney and venom but haven’t had a chance to check either of them out yet. They sound good tho. Especially if there’s an anime of ace attorney (I say as if I don’t have an entire mountain of anime I’m wanting to get through already. Eh, what’s one more to add to it?😂) Do you have any recs for watching the gameplay?

Also np! Like I said, I like hearing about people’s interest!

My current obsession is My Hero Acadamia. It’s not a perfect series but I still love it loads and could ramble about it forever. My favourite character is easily Bakugo because I really heavily relate to him, he’s really funny and I think his arch in the series is amazing. He starts the series being a massive jerk (I still loved him even then tho ngl😅) but as the series continues, he grows a lot. I kinda describe it as he’s a different person now while also being exactly the same. Meaning, he’s still angry, intense and competitive but he’s also definitely nicer and has humbled a bit too. I recently finished the series because there’s a new movie coming out about it (not live action thank God) and I’m planning to go see it with one of my friends who also loves the series. It’s kinda hard to find a place showing it in England tho that’s near where I live. I’m very exited tho because the movies main characters are are probably my favourite trio friend group😃

#ask #asks

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that-terrible-writer · 7 years ago

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Destined To Be

Happy New Year! Hope you have a few days of relaxation. Mine has been filled with ups and downs but it has been nice to get away from work. Thank you for the follows! 900 people! I never have thought that it would grow like this, thank you for liking my shitty writing enough to follow it!

| Kylo Ren x OC (Celestia Lux) |

Summary: Celestia Lux is a childhood friend of Ben Solo, who is infamously known as Kylo Ren: the apprentice of Snokes. Celestia is fine having nothing to do with Kylo, but Kylo has other plans to be reunited with his love.

Chapter V

Chapter I II III IV

Requested: “Destined To Be is my new favorite story! I can’t wait for more!!”

“Destined to be is fucking amazing!! thank you so much!”

Kylo had been going to training more, more than usual, but he always returned to sleep by my side. I wasn't allowed to leave his room; it bothered me less since he continuously came back to me right after his practice. What was dangerous for Kylo, what he didn't have in mind was, he left me alone with mine; which would design a different way to escape and question things that he had told me.

"Snokes wants a child?" I mumbled to myself. Was it that important to have a successor if anything happened to Kylo? Why wouldn't Snokes just steal another person, that's what he did with my Ben. My thoughts broke when I heard a soft ring. I followed the noise, seeing that it was coming from my pile of clothes; the ones that I wore when I made the trade to get back Poe. I dug through the articles of clothing, finding a transmitter burying in a pocket. I opened it, seeing Poe on the other side; a look of shock came across his face.

"Poe!" I smiled, relieved to finally seeing someone else. I huddled in the corner, worried that a trooper would come in to check on me; or worst, Kylo.

"Celest, are you still safe?" Poe asked concerned, taking in a deep breath trying to relax his current state.

"Yeah. I'm locked up in this room for weeks, but Kylo has kept me safe." I answered, looking over my shoulder to see that I was still alone. "When was this transmitter given to me?"

"When we tried to rescue you," Poe explained.

"Poe, you know how I said before that there was no hope left in Kylo?" I reminded him. I bit my bottom lip, looking over at the door to make sure Kylo wasn't going to be coming in anytime soon. I had lower my voice, making sure that only I could hear myself in the bedroom beside Poe, "He's been changing. It's odd; he's been opening up a little as we talk. He even apologized for the past."

"Is it one of his tricks again?" Poe questioned. He didn't look convinced, Poe was always questioning everything especially when it came from the First Order and Kylo.

I shook my head out of uncertainty, pushing my eyebrows together, having my mouth twitch a little while I tried words to explain. "I honestly don't think so. When we traded, Snokes originally wanted to kill me; angry with Kylo for giving you up. Kylo convinced Snokes that we could produce a child for him and he agreed to the terms."

"Excuse me; you have to do what?" Poe said, baffled. He blinked a few time, trying to make sure he heard what he heard.

"I still don't know why he wants one, but Kylo saved me. There are times that when I look at him, I see Ben again." I sighed, "I was wrong."

"Well, still be on your toes," Poe instructed me, "You can never be sure about Ky―"

I let out a scream as the transmitter broke in my hand. I dropped the pieces, turning to see Kylo standing in the doorway.

"Kylo..." I soft let out, hands clutched to my chest, my eyes widening in fear on how pissed he was at me. Kylo made his way over to me, taking off his helmet in the process. He grabbed my shoulders, pushing me up against the wall, inches in my face. His eyes had a fire in them, narrowing to peer into mine.

"What did you tell him?" He growled. His tone caused me to wince, my stomach dropping to the floor due to fear.

"I was safe." I couldn't look at him, but he made that easier by grabbing my chin, forcing me to look directly at him.

"What else." He gritted his teeth. It wasn't a question; it was clear as day that it was an order. An order that I shouldn't reject.

"That Snokes wants a child." I quickly said, my eyes flickered around the room as he was burning into my soul. "Why?"

Kylo had loosened his grip a little, allowing me to stand freely. "He wants to train them while they're young," Kylo explained.

"So brainwashing them? Training them like how you train your Stormtroopers and how you were?" I barked at him.

"Celestia, the First Order is the future."

"Ben! If I ever had a child with you, I would at least want them to choose what they wanted!" I fought back. I felt my courage leap to my mouth, my mind not listening to my heart at all; yelling at Kylo as the fear quickly left me.

"I didn't!" Kylo yelled, "I was forced to train with Skywalker, I was forced to move away from my home and to leave you!"

"How did that work out? How did that make you feel? Bitter? Filled with hate?" I questioned him, crossing my arms, "I don't want my child to hate me as you do with Leia and Han. They did what they thought was helpful for you! You need to learn from their mistake, don't force anything they don't want to do." I had calmed down, but my heart still felt as if it traveled down to my stomach. Kylo seemed to be feeling the same; he looked away from me for a slipt second before coming back to me.

"You called me Ben again." He murmured. He took a quick look at me from the corner of his eyes.

"Sorry, it keeps slipping out." I quickly apologized, covering my mouth to show him that I wouldn't make that mistake anew.

"You told Dameron that you saw Ben in me again." I hit Kylo's chest, a bit of a playful matter.

"You were listening!" I yelled, "Why did you have to do that to me?"

"I wanted to hear it from you." He explained, he turned heading back to the door; he grabbed his helmet from the dresser.

"Where are you going?" I went to follow him but quickly stopped with a push from his force.

"To train."

"But you already did," I told him.

"If you still see Ben, that means I'm not where I'm supposed to be." He placed his helmet on, heading out the door; leaving me alone once again.

"Is that a bad thing?" I softly asked myself.

I had enough. Enough with this black room. Enough of the Troopers. Enough of being treated like a prisoner. I changed my clothes, back into my dress, tying my hair into a ponytail. I got on the bed, reaching for the air vent; trying to take off the grate that blocked the only way out. I jumped, being able to grab the edge to pull myself up into it. I crawled down the vent, hearing conversations as I was trying to find the TIE fighters.

"He's growing weak." I heard Hux's voice, echoing through the vents, "It's because of Solo's apprentice."

"The girl?" Captain Phasma questioned.

"Yes, the girl, you dimwit!" Hux screamed, "Supreme Master Snokes was able to buy Kylo's excuse to keep her here, but I doubt that's truly why." I saw Hux walk over to the monitors, watching each screen until his eyes fixated on one. He had enhanced Kylo's chamber, his face scanning it all over. "Where is she!" He roared, slamming his fist on the controls. He turns to Phasma, his face red, boiling in anger, "Go tell Kylo Ren that his pet seems to have gone missing."

That was my hint to continue down the vent, stopping for a little bit when I heard the alarms go off. "Aw, all this for little old me?" I quipped, not being able to have a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. I looked down one of the openings to see I was at the docks, everyone running around; losing it for the rath of―

"WHERE IS SHE!" I heard Kylo yell, echoing throughout the ship, having everyone, including myself, stop what we're doing. I took out my blaster pistol, turning to aim down the opposite side of the air vent and fired. The sound alerted everyone, causing them to clear out the hanger to investigate. Leaving me the perfect time to escape. I opened the vent, jumping down, quickly making my way to a TIE fighter. I shot off the chain that had it tied down, immediately shutting the door once I got in and strapped myself in; just in case Kylo tried using the force on me again.

I turned everything on; I quickly saw the main door to the docks open having Kylo run-in with an immeasurable amount of Troopers at his side. He made eye contact with me, running towards me, "Celestia!" He called.

I regripped the steering wheel, lifting the ship off the ground. I saw the Troopers raise their guns at me, but Kylo quickly stopped them, "Hold your fire!" I took one last look at Kylo before I took over.

If you're not going to let Ben stay, neither will I.

"Base? Base, do you read me? This is Celestia Lux, do you copy?" I talked into the mic, as I was heading back to the resistant base.

"Celest?" I heard Poe on the other line, "How did you―"

"I took a TIE fighter and got myself the hell out of there." I reported, "So, please don't shoot at me. Or you'll take the fun out of it for Han."

"Copy that." Poe confirmed I could hear the happiness that came from his voice; relieved for my safety, "I'll tell Mr. Solo of your return."

"Doubt it." I cracked a smile, not being able to hold back a joke, "He has to look after this kid again."

I had earned a laugh from Poe, "We'll see you when you land."

"Thanks. Lux out." I needed the line, heading straight to the planet in my view.

You can't run from me, Celestia.

I heard Kylo's voice, it frightened me, causing me to search the little fighter; only to show that I was alone.

You honestly thought you saw the last of me?

"Just did. Once I get back to Han, I'm out. Done with the resistance, done with the First Order and more important, done with you." I said out loud.

You don't mean that. What about getting Ben back?

"You said it yourself; you're going to keep training until Ben is gone. What's the point in trying?"

You love Ben, don’t you?

His comment caused me to grip the wheel tighter, biting the bottom of my lip. "Ben is gone." I whispered, "You're Kylo Ren now."

I can still be Ben to you.

"Stop." My voice cracked, tears were forming in my eyes. I felt my heart ached as flashes of Ben before he was Kylo, flashed before me. The man that I loved so much, who protected me as I was a child; the person that was never coming back to me.

If you come back, I'll keep a little piece of him for you.

"Stop it..." I plead.

I still love you, as Ben and as Kylo. We're destined to be with each other. Just come back to me.

"Get out," My voice rose a little, still soft but was more firm.

We can have a child, live like the perfect family you always wanted with Ben.

"Get out of my head, Ben!" I screamed. It finally returned to silence. I thought that shaking my head would get his voice out, waving that feeling away; making sure I wasn't going to cry over him. Not anymore. I saw the base in the distance as I continued to try and calm my heart. Why was he so good at playing mind games? Knowing the exact things to say to me. I saw Leia, Poe, Han, and Chewy waiting for me to land. Once I did, I ran up to Poe; wrapping my arms around him, nuzzling my face into his chest.

"Quite a greeting there." Poe laughed. I felt his arms wrap around me, returning the same feeling: security.

I peeled myself away, seeing Han look at me, "Poe said you been seeing Ben."

"He's still trying to destroy him." I replied softly, "I can't change him." Han walked past me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"You did good, kid. Rest up. Tomorrow we head to Tokodana." I nodded, understanding that we still had to continue doing our job.

"I'll show you where you're staying," Poe told me. I lifted my hand, grabbing the end of his shirt.

"Could I," I softly let out, looking up to Poe to meet his eyes, "just stay with you?" Poe looked over at Han, who had given him a questioning look.

"Y-yeah," Poe stammered, leading me towards his bunker. We entered, and I just resume holding onto him. "Celest," Poe sighs, grabbing onto my shoulders to pull me away, "What happened?"

"He just wants a successor, or that's what he told Snokes," I explained.

"Have you two."

"Twice. One was under that stupid mind trick, but the last was when I saw Ben. My feelings returned, and I couldn't help myself." I felt the tears swell in my eyes. "I thought he was there." I chocked, "I thought―I thought he proved me wrong."

Poe pulled me back into a hug, shushing me. He rested his chin on top of my head, letting me weep into his chest, "It's ok. You're safe now."

Tagged: @alwaysmebeforeyou

#adam driver #Adam Driver x Reader #Adam Driver Imagine #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo imagine #kylo ren imagine #star wars imagine #star wars #star wars fanfic #kylo fanfiction

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tentacledillydoo · 5 years ago

Text

Another small vent about art, myself, my goals, future and life stuff. i just dont wanna post it on my IG spam

My art keeps bothering me and I constantly feel like im 2 steps behind everyone else,, I used to be on top of the world 2 years ago or even like last year, improving and getting more dynamic, trying new things out but. I constantly feel stuck . My art isnt bad but its loke. Its constantly lacking something and I know what its lacking, i know what I need to do to improve but i just never do it. I havent had that motivation in so long now.

Two years ago when I made Bee i had the goal of creating something i could be proud of; a story, a good story, with a character that would be lovable and memorable, something that evoked feelings... I wanted to do that with my art and with the story. Now I do that with Frankie and the mafia ocs, not to the extent i want but I know I'm able to clearly portray his character and intense emotions in a way that actually evokes those feelings.

I'm just not where I want to be. I always feel like I could do better, like I want to do bigger things. I want to create something big, something good that people will like... My art is not where i would want it to be at /all/. I cant find a proper style I'm truly 100% content with and Im just. For the past few months Ive just been sitting on my ass with barely any motivation or will to do anything.

Figuring myself out has kinda gone hand in hand with my artistic stuff, and in general terms realising I not trans helped me a lot. In general terms, that took a big weight off my shoulders; I no longer feel that sort of dread and sorrow, the anguish that comes from not passing, or the stress of worrying about things like surgeries or T. All that. Im happy as myself and I dont have to restrict myself. It was supposed to reflect in my art, i wanted it to be a new start for me, I wanted to be better from that point,, idk. Just like i stopped restricting myself in my everyday life, i wanted to stop holding back in my art.

Im very tired of these BPD episodes, the mood swings. But sometimes I feel like i should be thankful because theyre basicslly the only thing that gives me the energy to draw. The periods of time where I feel so down or empty or just awful and then the sudden bouts of so much energy and being on top of thr world that last a few days at most. And then just nothing. Just; numb, bored, uninterested, unbothered.

I linked my past experience with identity with the whole thing in BPD about . Not having a sense of who you are. And its true. I feel more comfortable now, but Im still... I dont know who Im supposed to be or what Im supposed to be. I wanted to be an animator; i wanted to go to University, i had goald and aspirations I was so sure of, I knew what I wanted. But look at me now. I havent turned in my college work, I've given up. I dont even find the same joy in drawing. I havent applied to University because I dont even know if I wanna do animation anymore. Hell I dont even know if I wanna go to University anymore. Any time someone talks about it it just irks me. I dont know what i want to be anymore. Im 18, i should.. know, what I want to do, where I wanna go from here. Yet I have absolutely no clue. I dont understand myself.

Every time I try something new I feel its just to fill the void. To see if theres anything that will give me some sort of indication of what i can do or who i can be. Volleyball, the piano, knitting, sewing, painting, writing, photography, cooking, making things. I fixate on things for a short while and then get so bored.

Is it bad to say I feel jealous sometimes? Maybe even upset? Everyone has a goal. My girlfriend has goals and shit. And it makes me feel so.. off, that I have no clue what im doing. I dont like feeling like I might just be a burden. I dont even know if I should be here in the first place. I dont understand why I cant be like my dad; he has so many hobbies and things hes good at and he puts them into use in his everyday life.

Im just so irritable I dont even know how to deal with it anymore tbh. I get so annoyed at anything or anyone, and I just snap so quickly and then feel guilty about it. I cant even draw something wrong without breaking down and angry crying about it.

I dont take any risks with drawing because I know the moment I do something wrong I will get incredibly upset about it and cry. And maybe thats why Im stuck. Idk. I want it to end so I can do something. I really want to make somethinf important and meaningful. I dont know.

Anyway. Im gonna go have lunch and then I gotta take my meds.

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