#more specifically... oc units...

[ruidrones]

hey out of curiosity how do you guys feel about prsk ocs

[ozziyo]

Nell grew up in the lords of fortune, which means for a solid few years there was a dwarven child just living her most insane life as the littlest lordling of them all

bonus closeup on the top illustration

[mindibindi]

[wilbyowo]

Your body was crouched low to the ground, shaking like a frightened rabbit, eyes wide and wild. He could sense that you were scared, the acrid tang of fear reaching his senses, billowing off you in the night air like smoke off a flame. A palm, calloused and rough slowly approached from above the canopy of trees far above, fingers gently lifting you, scooping under you and pulling you into rough yet warm skin.

”Oh little one…”

the voice rumbled, sympathy dripping from his softened voice, as you were lifted higher and higher from the cold earth below. In moments you were nestled against him, he understood that little ones like you couldn’t keep heat well, and with how unforgiving the night wind was, he couldn’t just leave you to the freeze.

You felt his thunderous heart pounding, much slower than any other creature’s pulse you’d ever heard, like a drum beat within him, yet you found the rhythm soothing, it helped to ground you as he held you against his chest. You were safe

[gatorbites-imagines]

Please, please, I'll do whatever you want, just more yautja

Male Elder Yautja OC (Ge'jaar) x male reader

Ficlet

I still don’t really know a whole lot of the yautja lore, but I love them anyways. So, heres me cooking up an oc and hoping it’s somewhat canon because I love yautja and will take any excuse to write about them. Readers somewhat based off of an oc of mine. Reader is also around 6ft 5 inches. Ge'jaar is 9ft or so.

Bako really grew on me for some reason when I wrote this, so lemme know if you guys wanna read about him.

You were old. Very old. You hadn’t kept much track of just how old you were, it didn’t really matter, but you only appeared to be in the 50s or very good 60s. You knew you were a lot older than that, having spent at least 100 years away from earth, hunting. You had returned though, at some point, and settled down in a very defensible cabin far away from much of everything, where you could live in peace with your “dogs”.

Well, you called them dogs, mainly because they walked on all fours and had a tail they’d wag, and followed orders. An ex of yours had called them Kiande amedha, you just called them xenomorphs, or your beetle dogs. Years ago, back when you had successfully killed the bad bloods that kidnapped you and your military unit, you had found this little ugly hissing creature. There was a stereotype that humans would bond with most near anything, and they were right.

You brought the little bugger along on the ship you stole from the now dead bad bloods, which took a long time to figure out how to steer. You named your pet Lucky, and you would later learn she was female. Strangely enough, she seemed to follow you as if you were the queen and not her, so it was all fine. Even if she and her first offspring did kill your ex when he tried to hit and control you. One of her offspring lost a leg in that fight, so obviously his name would be tripod.

Luckily for you, sweet little Lucky didn’t breed like other of her kind. Over the years shed only had about 50 offspring, whom she seemed to raise in the same way you remembered earth dogs would do it, sometimes making you wonder if she was some kind of crossbreed. Having 50 kiande amedha though, made you very dangerous in the eyes of your ex’s species, especially when they learned you controlled them.

Joining the hunt hadn’t been something you had outright planned to do. Or getting juiced up with whatever weird drugs and inventions the clans you were friendly with cooked up. That was why you grew so much taller, and aged so slowly.

Ge'jaar wasn’t part of one of the clans you fought alongside. You two actually met, when a group of young bloods tried to hunt your beetle dogs. Apparently, they thought you would be an easy target, being an ooman and all. Of course, you made sure to show them you weren’t. they successfully killed one of your pets, a spunky one named Hoover because he ate everything. And like any hunter worth their salt, you needed revenge.

It led to some political struggles and conversations between clan elders, since you were pretty much a part of that one specific clan now after so many hunts together.

Ge'jaar wasn’t the leader of his clan, but still counted as an elder. He was handsome, in his own, scaley way. His skin was white and covered in the same dark splotching as all yautja seemed to carry. He wore a lot of the same clothing as most yautja did, and would later on wear a cape you made from the hide of a beast you had hunted.

In the end, Ge'jaar went as far as to apologize and repay you for the dead “hunting hound”. Bako, one of the males from your apparent clan, would later tell you it was because Ge'jaar wanted to fuck you. You were still very salty about Hoover though, so you acted quite nasty and confrontational with Ge'jaar and his clan for a good chunk of years.

The cape Ge'jaar would start to wear, hadn’t even been a gift in your mind. For some reason the elder yautja had followed along for one of your solo hunts, in Bakos words “going on a date” with you. And yes, Ge'jaar was very impressive to watch fight, he was very big and broad, alright? The creatures purple blood sprayed all over his white skin also didn’t help.

You couldn’t even remember what you had said to him, but it must have been some threat or curse as you threw the creatures skin at him, since you only wanted the meat and bones. It made no sense to you at the time why Ge'jaar started wearing the fur, and you hadn’t wanted to ask Bako since the guy had just started cackling at you when he saw it.

It was only years later when you had settled back down on earth, that it really seemed to register to you that Ge'jaar was trying to charm you, in his own yautja way. Still feeling so angry about Hoovers death, even if Ge'jaar himself didn’t do it, you took all the hunting and dead creatures by your ship and hut as a threat or challenge. All the jewelry and armor as harder to explain, and you still had the book about yautja mythology somewhere on your shelf.

At that point, you had just assumed Ge'jaar moved on, since you hadn’t seen him in so long. The only yautja you truly spoke much too nowadays was Bako and those from his clan. And of course, the ones that still owed you favors, just to remind them you were still alive to cash in on it.

You had just returned from one of your trips to the nearest large city, a trip that took you almost two weeks since everything was far away, when you saw him again. Or rather, one of your beetle dogs saw him, a young one named Blue, since his dome of a head reflected blue more than the rest.

Blue had been born, laid? On earth, and had seen very little true combat, so you assumed that was why he was the friendliest of them all. Where most of Lucky’s offspring that had known space and combat stuck to the shadows and settled in the cave system near your cabin, Blue was a real lapdog.

Friendly enough it seemed, to just accept an intruder in your home. Stepping out of your truck, Blue trotted out of your cabin door, which was wide open, looking as happy as a clam with dried meat in his maw. There was a feeling in the air that you weren’t alone, so grabbing at your beloved weapon of choice, you were about to fall back into old habits.

That was until Ge'jaar of all people, stepped out of your cabin, wearing one of your shirts. Well, trying to wear one of your shirts. It was one of the largest shirts you owned, old and worn with some odd shape on the front that might have been a logo once.

The elder yautja looked very comfortable, right at home honestly, his dreadlocks pulled into a bun on the back of his large head, and a damn sleeve of cookies in his massive hand. The confusion must have been so clear on your face, as the retired hunter chittered and laughed, moving closer to help you lug stuff back into your cabin and into your massive basement.

The confusion was strong enough that you just kinda went along with it, moving everything from your large truck and away from sight until you needed it. It was only after you both sat down on the couch that you took notice of the minor changes to your home, it looked very much like Ge'jaar had just moved himself in.

You could have smacked him right then and there, maybe cut all his dreadlocks off and made him swallow his mandibles, but somehow the massive scarred yautja made himself look so innocent and borderline lovable.

Blue, the little fucker, just got comfortable on a large fur Ge'jaar had laid out across the floor, tail whipping all over and knocking trinkets off your coffee table. The little traitor, you knew you spoiled him too much.

It took a lot of explanation from Ge'jaar, and you had a feeling if you hadn’t lived amongst his people for so long you might have lost it, but apparently Ge'jaar had made some plea to his clan leader, and yours since apparently you still counted as one of those, and you two were pretty much married without your approval.

Well, or so you would say, but all your guy’s “dates” and all the “gifts” you passed between you counted as courting. You settling down back on earth just appeared to be retirement in their eyes. It wasn’t like you still hated Ge'jaar, you never really had thinking back, it just… came as quite a surprise.

Ge'jaar still kept on courting you, even when you fed most of the things he caught to Lucky and her offspring. The elder yautja took your claim that Lucky was your child to heart, clicking and purring when she, and by extent her offspring, finally accepted his presence.

Time was a true blur out in the mountains, you only really noticed it by the seasons passing and you needing to go back into town two or three times a year to stock back up. But soon enough Ge'jaar was part of your life, and yes, you still snipped and bit at him sometimes, but this time it was meant as flirting.

Your mate, since that’s what you guys were now, was so patient and seemed to find your human nature endearing enough to pick up on some of it himself. It still felt very weird to be given flowers by a seasoned hunter like Ge'jaar, or to walk in on him watching Gilmore girls with Blue draped across his lap, but you got used to it.

It was probably best that you and Ge'jaar were the ones to get together, since he was older, had already had all the offspring he wanted. The yautja was also confident enough in himself that he didn’t get jealous the same way your ex had. Ge'jaar was hot and he knew this even in his fluffy robe and slippers, though you couldn’t help but miss him in his netting and weapons at times.

It turned out to be a lot more comfortable than you had thought to retire, with your mate who had to be hundreds of years older than you, and your many, many beetle dogs. There were times you debated on going out for a hunt again, as a date, for old times sake, but that was something you would need to discuss with Ge'jaar first.

[tokay-blog]

After watching the walkthroughs of Prime game one day, the idea came up to create vehicon OC - a tank and a sniper that work together.

The tank was named Tarc (a nickname that was created from his serial number). The helicopter's name is Ledo.

The bottom line is that these are the last surviving vehicons of the species, who traveled to Earth on a Decepticon escape pod.

All in all, it's a pretty typical duo of a calm big guy and an impulsive little guy, who nevertheless give each other the support they need after surviving the horror of the war on Cybertron. I suppose that helicopters were originally made with not the strongest psyche in order to keep them close to the tanks - their main defenders. Tarc and Ledo have moved much further away from their original programs, i.e. mentally they are more evolved, but that also means they are more unstable. So, for Megatron specifically, they're a problematic pair. But the leader is willing to overlook their shortcomings, as these guys are still an strong unit.

And despite Ledo being a psychologically strong sniper (when compared to other vehicon-helicopters), he still gets broken from time to time. Hell hasn't gone away for both of them. But in the years they've spent together, Tarc has learned to express empathy (tanks are created quite indifferent and poor on emotions )

After everyone left Cybertron, the two survived by using spare parts from their dead comrades. There's already a headcanon here that the choppers could give first aid to their tanks if they got too badly damaged during the hostilities. They didn't replace medics, of course, but it increased their chance of survival, which was key for this pair. Of the most noticeable details, the Tarc had the left half of the "wall" replaced with a new one. The sniper, on the other hand, had part of his leg taken from one elite siker (their distinguishing features may change though)

I don't know if there will be minicomics with them, but just like these guys. Despite the fact that there are almost no references with their anatomy and everything is drawn almost at random x)

[basil-does-arttt]

HELLO, INTRODUCING MY LATEST BLORBO: SCHWALBE!!! (and possibly later down the line yet another but anyways) My silly surgeon/mortician gals!! they are like... 2 days old in my brain but i'm already in love with them. The white shell especially, i think it looks nice (humble brag) also, incase anybody wants to know, i hc them (yes hc, my own oc, lol) them to be australian. do with that what you will. (more stuff below:)

Incase my handwriting is ilegible, heres what the blurb says + some additions that i forgot to write on the drawing: --- [REPLIKA OVERVIEW: SCBR] Sonderszenario Chirug / Besatter Replika "Schwalbe" (Special Scenario Surgeon / Mortician Replika "Swallow") Type: Generation 5 Hospital Specialist Unit Frame: Biomechanical with Polyethylene shell Height: 182 cm (6.0ft) A specialized unit stationed inside some of the Nation's best private hospitals, SCBR units are typically created on a "commission-only" basis (meaning; hospitals gotta order them specifically if they want one.) Their neutral outlook on life and strong loyalty to the Nation makes them some of the most trust-worthy and reliable surgeons/doctors to take care of our Nation's most important figures, or strangest medical cases. When Schwalbes are not handing private/special cases, however, they are stationed inside their hospital's morgue, on standby untill they are needed once more. --- [REPLIKA KNOWN ISSUES: Commanders Eyes Only] Schwalbe units are known for their reserved, aloof, and quiet demeanors, making socialization with their peers a difficult task at times, especially when it comes to the social EULR units. They are also natural leaders, and tend to have a habit of needing total control in any given situation, sometimes leading to clashes with a hospital's Administrator and/or Protektor staff. It is reccomended to inform the current hospital staff about this before a SCBR's arrival, to prevent friction between units. SCBR units have been found to be at a higher risk of Persona Degredation due to exposure to disturbing material/scenarios after excess time spent in the morgue. This can, at best, result in Schwalbes developing 'eerie/off-putting' personalities, and at worst, dangerously violent tendancies toward their peers. Because of this, it is reccomended that if no specialized cases can be assigned to a Schwalbe for an extended period of time, then their assigned hospital should allow them to aid in some general cases at least 2 cycles a period, for persona stabilization. (A hospital may also choose to temporarily shut-down, or decomission their SCBR unit at their own discretion, if they feel it's persona degredation has advanced too far.)

--- and heres a version of Schwalbe without her apron, and some doodles;

They are neutral toward FKLR, KLBR, and EULR units, and dont particularly like STAR and STCR units mainly bcs she doesn't like being told what to do, and would rather be the one giving orders. In the heiarchy of Replika command, i'd place her underneath STAR units but above EULR/ARAR units. She typically works with a cadre of EULR nurses, and/or gestalt doctors/nurses too, though she prefers interracting with the replikas. They like ADLR units and ARAR units, adler because he just gets shit done and they appreciate his work ethic, and aras because they dont try to chatter with her whenever she's around them. As for MHNR and LSTR units, i think they'd be neutral toward mynahs and like elsters for her focused personality. I wanted to give them a white shell bcs in my mind, it works for a hospital setting. White and Blue being clean and ""sanitary"" colors i guess, (and also, because its easier for her to see if she's got blood on her shell before she leaves the morgue, so she doesn't upset other replika/gestalts in the facility.)

she's an expensive replika, but good at her job. I'm still kind of thinking on who her gestalt might've been... i'm leaning toward making them a soldier like Elster's gestalt is. (not the same division, but still vinetan.) i hope yall like them C:

[williceunleashed]

Me when I delve more into how fucked up Plasma is as a concept and how much it must have psychologically destroyed almost every single member outside of the Sages : 👍👍👍 im fine

Under the cut is a small analysis of Plasma as cult and how it's functioning might have affected the grunts (autism moment sorry)

Plasma is definitely some sort of religious cult, we know that (Ghetsis being some sort of prophet, N being so some sort of God-sent). The people within Plasma, outside of the Sages, are most likely vulnerable, mentally ill, or young and impressionable. We know that Plasma goes out of its way to choose people with little to no support system (N, Concordia, Anthea, the Shadow Triad...), keeping them isolated and making sure they can't be confronted with new, different opinions.

In fact, the Sages themselves are isolated from their support system, as they all come from different countries and are not native of Unova...... Outside of Ghetsis himself.

It's also suggested that Ghetsis is most likely abusive to his grunts, though we don't know to what extent, seeing how panicked the grunts who were hunting down Munna get when Mushana makes them hallucinate about Ghetsis.

The grunts, when moving as a group, are always seen moving in synch and in a very organized way. I think it's a good symbolism on how they stop identifying themselves as an individual, but rather as one single unit : They aren't a person anymore, they are a gear in the machine that is Plasma.

Cults are known to destroy their victims' sense of self, to then rebuild them to function entirely around their leader. Cult members are rewired to give their possession, money, belongings and if necessary even their body and life to their leader. You often see cult members defending their leader after their arrest and pleading to have them released, despite how vile their leader could have been to them.

Now for the part that shatters me : The Plasma Safehouse of Driftveil. This place makes me both happy and sad, in such a bittersweet way. In B2W2, the ex-grunts, alongside Anthea and Concordia, are seen staying around the Plasma Safehouse, still huddled together, instead of returning to a life or normalcy, miggling with other people, or experiencing the world like N did. The way they work is still very similar to B1W1 Plasma, with Rood acting as a leader, with how devoted they are to N's ideals.

There is this sad implication that these grunts are in no mental capacity to go back to a normal life. To me, the Driftveil Safehouse is just some place that was built specifically for Plasma's victims who were too traumatized to recuperate a proper sense of self and go back to a normal life. Of course these grunts are happier now, because Rood seems to be a gentle and kind person, and they are under the supervision of the pokémon league. And yet, the grunts still wear the uniform, they still behave as a unit, they still struggle to bond with outsiders to their group. They live with the guilt of having been part of Ghetsis's nefarious plans and they are too traumatized to be able to move past the cult.

Plasma grunts make me so sad man

oc is dardanne

[purplephantomwolf]

Love in Motion

Chapter One

Synopsis: You're a normal college student until you get a wrong number text.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings: None

Masterlist

I AM REWRITING THIS FROM AN OC STORY. IF I MISS ANYTHING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN FIX IT! THIS IS CHAPTER 1 OF 5 OF ALREADY WRITTEN CHAPTERS.

April 4, 2022 12:30pm

     You sigh, turning your attention away from your software engineering professor to your laptop screen. You watch as the 20 best drivers in the world complete the last lap of the first race of the 2021 Formula 1 season. You just recently got into Formula 1, so you’re watching the 2021 season to get a feel for the sport. Someone told you the 2021 season is a great season to watch because of the fights between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton. You silently cheer as your favorite driver, Lando Norris, finishes P4. You look up at the clock and see that it’s only 12:30. Still 35 minutes left of class, you think. You let out a small sigh, turning back to your laptop. You move on to watching qualifying for the first Italy grand prix of the 2021 season. You have just clicked play when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You grab it and see a text message from an unknown number. 

Unknown Number: Did you make it home from the club okay?

You: *One Image Attached* Considering I’m currently in a programming lecture, I think you may have been given the wrong number. I’m sorry.

     I send a picture of my view of my professor, laptop, and notes to the unknown number. 

Unknown number: Oh, thank you! I’m sorry for bothering you!

Unknown number: Hang on, are you watching Formula 1 while in lecture?

You: It’s okay! Also, yes I am watching Formula 1 while in lecture. I’d rather be learning about Formula 1 than boring C++. Also, why are you texting someone about getting home from the club okay? It’s 12:30 pm?

Unknown number: It’s currently 2:30 am for me. I was attempting to text a girl I was talking to at the club, but it looks like she gave me the wrong number. 

You: Oh, that makes sense. Wait, where are you that’s 14 hours ahead of me? Also, I’m sorry about the whole wrong number thing. That really sucks. Unless she gave you the wrong number cause you’re a creep. Then you deserve it. 

Unknown number: I’m currently in Melbourne, Australia. And I wasn’t being a creep! At least, I don’t think so. I hope not at least; I try my best to not be a creep. 

You: Alright, that’s good. I doubt you were being a creep. And Australia? Jeez, that’s so far from me. I’m in the United States.

Unknown number: That's only a small stretch from Australia. 

You: Yeah, it’s going to be not fun to watch the F1 race this weekend, but staying up is so worth it to see the race live.

Unknown number: Big fan of the sport? 

You: Yeah, I am. I just recently got into it, so I’m watching the 2021 season to learn everything I can. I’m also attempting to watch all the qualifying and races live.

Unknown number: Oh cool. That’s got to be tiring because most of the races are in Europe. Waking up early every day of the weekend must suck. 

You: I mean, yeah. It kinda sucks, but it’s not too bad. I’m not waking up super early unless it’s races in places like Japan and Australia. The earliest I have to wake up is like 6 for other races. That’s not too bad though. 

Unknown number: Oh, that’s not too bad then! Which team do you support?

You: Well, there’s not a specific team I really support. If I have to choose one, it would be McLaren, probably followed by Red Bull. I support drivers more than I support teams really. 

Unknown number: Okay, then who are your top three drivers?

You: That is a hard decision to make for 2 and 3. Lando Norris is for sure my number one driver, but I have like 5 drivers tied for second and then 5 tied for third. 

Unknown number: Oh interesting. Any drivers you dislike then?

You: No, I don’t dislike any drivers. Unless you count past drivers *cough* Mazespin *cough* 

Unknown number: That’s a funny nickname for Mazepin. But why don’t you like him?

You: I’m not sure. I just get a weird vibe from him. 

Unknown number: Interesting. But I get what you’re saying. Can I ask why Lando is your favourite? 

You: Sure! Lando is my favorite because of his personality, humor, and how he speaks out about mental health. I really struggle with depression and anxiety, so having such a public figure speak out about it is amazing. Also helps that he’s got the boy next door charm. That’s definitely my type lol

Unknown number: Ahh, okay! Those are good reasons to like him! Now, I feel weird talking to a nameless person. Can I ask you what your name is?

You: My name is Y/n. Can I ask what your name is?

Unknown number: Y/n, that’s a pretty name. My name is Luke. 

You: Nice to meet you, Luke. 

     You look up when you hear a commotion around you. You see that your classmates are packing their things and leaving. Wow, time really flew by talking to this stranger. You put your phone down and quickly pack your things. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and head out. You feel your phone vibrate with a text again. You see that it’s Luke again. 

Luke: Nice to meet you too, Y/n. 

9 pm

     You groan, leaning back in your chair. You glare at the lab manual you’ve been trying to make sense of for the past two hours. You glance over at your phone as it lights up with a message from your mom, and you pick it up to respond to the message. You are distracted from responding to her though because you see a message from Luke from 10 minutes ago. Your eyebrows rise in surprise. 

Luke: Good morning!

You: Uh, hi. Good morning! Did you sleep well?

Luke: I did! Has the rest of your day gone well? 

You: The rest of my day has gone okay. I’ve been staring at some stupid code that’s not working. The assignment is due in three days, so I need to get this code fixed.  

Luke: That sounds awful. I’m so thankful I’m no longer in school.

You: Yeah, I’m jealous. I’m searching for jobs in my dream field, but I haven’t found any that allows me to do what I want yet. 

Luke: Oh? What’s your dream job then?

You: My ultimate dream job is working as a photographer in the motorsport world, preferably F1, but I’d take any motorsport. My next dream job is just anything that allows me to travel the world taking photos. 

Luke: That would be an awesome job. I recently got into photography as a hobby. Do you have any photos you’d be willing to share with me? 

You: Sure! 

     You send him five of your favorite photos I’ve taken. Two are of cars on the move, one is a still life of a bunch of cars from a car show, the fourth is a sunset, and the last is of a group of people playing soccer. 

Luke: Holy shit! Those are amazing! 

You: Thanks! I’m really proud of these photos. They’re some of my favorite ones I’ve taken. 

Luke: They’re beautiful. 

You: Thank you! So, you mentioned that you’re no longer in school. Can I ask what exactly you do?

     You wait for a minute, but get no response. You decide to mess around on your phone for a bit while waiting for a response. After 5 minutes of not getting a response, you set my phone down. Right as you set your phone down, a notification for your chat with Luke pops up and you quickly click it. 

Luke: I am an event manager for McLaren F1 team. 

You: Really? That is so cool! I wanted to do event management in sports before I was in software engineering, though I was wanting to get into baseball. If I was still event management, I’d want to do motorsports now. Do you enjoy it? What does that entail? 

Luke: I plan events for the fans mainly. 

You: That sounds like a fun job. 

Luke: Why did you switch?

You: My parents thought I wouldn’t find a job that would make as much money as they do, so they made me switch to software engineering because it has higher paying jobs. 

Luke: Well, that’s stupid. Were you happy in event management?

You: Yeah, I was. But my parents are paying for my college, so I have to do what they want.

Luke: That’s very stupid. I take it you aren’t happy with software engineering?

You: No, I’m not. But I’ve only got two years left, so it’ll be all good!

Luke: Alright, well good luck. 

You: Thanks! Do you have a hangover?

Luke: I actually didn’t drink that much, so no hangover for me!

You: That’s very nice. I’ve never been hungover. I don’t drink a lot when I do drink. Can’t stand the taste of alcohol lol

Luke: Oh yeah, I get that. Do you want to play a game?

You: What game?

Luke: 21 Questions? To get to know each other?

You: That sounds like a good idea. I can start. What is your favorite thing to do in your off time?

Luke: I like to play video games. What is your favourite tv show?

You: Doctor Who. I could go on about that show forever. Who is your real life hero?

Luke: Valentino Rossi. What’s your favourite season of the year?

You: Fall. The colors are beautiful, the temperature is beautiful. I love it. What is your favorite song?

Luke: Right now it’s Last Last. What is your favourite city?

You: Of all the cities I’ve been to, London or Barcelona. If you had to guess what people appreciate the most about you, what would you say? 

Luke: My humour for sure. You’ve been to London and Barcelona?

You: Yeah, I went when I was a lot younger with my family. My family went on a three week trip to four different countries in Europe. We went to London, Paris, Zurich, and Barcelona. I loved London the most. It was right before the 2012 Olympics, so the city is probably different from what I remember now, though. Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert?

Luke: I would say I’m in the middle. What are your top three items on your bucket list? 

You: Going to an F1 race, start going to the gym, develop my skills in photography even more. Do you like to go to the movies or prefer watching them at home? Do you talk during movies?

Luke: I would prefer watching them home because it’s more comfortable. Plus it’s not expensive. I do not talk during movies if it’s the first time someone is watching it. If it’s not the first time, I’ll discuss the movie with others while watching it. If you could choose any F1 race to go to, which one would it be?

You: I’m torn between Austin and Great Britain. I know Monaco is like the go to cause of the history and prestige of it all, but I think Austin or Great Britain would be more fun with the atmosphere. Are you into podcasts or do you only listen to music?

Luke: I only listen to music. Podcasts need more attention than what I'm willing to give than music. What is your favourite ice cream flavour?

You: Probably chocolate. What’s one thing that can instantly make your day better?

Luke: Talking to my friends. What is the phone app you use the most?

You: TikTok or Discord. How would you spend your birthday, ideally?

Luke: Spend the day casually with my friends and family, and then have a party with them at night. You said you use discord, do you play video games?

You: Yes, I do. It’s one of my favorite things to do in my free time. What video games do you play? Do you usually play single player or multiplayer?

Luke: I usually play CS:GO and F1. What video games do you play?

You: If I play multiplayer games, it’ll be Valorant. But I mainly play single player games, like Assassin’s Creed. Assassin’s Creed Odyssey is one of my favorite games ever.

Luke: Which one is that one? I know they take place throughout time. 

You: That one is the Greek history one. I’m super into Greek history/mythology, so I absolutely love it. 

Luke: Oh that sounds cool!

     You glance over at the time. “Shit, it’s already midnight,” you groan. Now that you’re not focused on responding to Luke, you realize you are struggling to keep your eyes open. 

You: As much as I’d love to continue this, I just realized it’s midnight here, and I need to sleep. 

Luke: Okay, sounds good! Have a good night! 

You: Thank you! Have a good day! 

Luke: Good night!

You: Good night!

     You plug in your phone, shut off your pc, and change for bed. You crawl into bed, falling asleep quickly.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two

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Permanent taglist:

@sol3chu

@faithshouseofchaos

Story taglist:

[winterbunz]

so I've created my own OC Replika model because I haven't been able to stop thinking about her

Meet your new doctor, Turmfalke, or Kestrel! They are here to make sure everyone is healthy, calm, and able to continue working for the Nation. Just try to not make their job harder than it already is...

Overview transcript and extra yapping below for those interested 👇

-- Replika Overview: UMFR --

Universelle Medizinische/Feldsanitäter Replika 'Turmfalke' (Universal Medical/Combat Medic Replika 'Kestrel')

Type: Generation 4 Low-Cost Healthcare Replika Frame: Biomechanical with Polyethylene Shell Height: 160cm

A model created with the health and well-being of the Eusan Nation in mind. These kind and diligent Replikas can perform a variety of medical tasks requiring a moderate level of specialization; they work primarily as paramedics, general physicians, or surgeons. A rudimentary Bioresonance module allows them to accurately assess their patients' emotional state, which makes them viable therapists as well. Capable of treating both Gestalts and Replikas, they are frequently chosen as heads of medical staff in remote facilities.

Turmfalkes will fight only as a last resort, however they make invaluable combat medics. Military variants sport additional bullet-resistant armor plating to increase their survivability in the field and allow them to safely provide aid to soldiers of the Nation.

---

The extra yapping part, aka the unofficial Replika Known Issues:

They are specifically made to appear friendly and non-threatening to be a comforting presence to their patients and coworkers, hence their small stature and a gentle disposition. They can get snappy if irritated or tense, but they prefer to avoid confrontation and just be allowed to do their job

Typically placed in charge of the facility's cadre of Eule nurses, which is required for a Turmfalke unit to remain stable and work efficiently. The Eules serve as assistants and companions to them and they tend to bond strongly with each other. Occasionally they might get attached just as strongly to units of other models, too (and holds hands and kiss.... and they're both girls)

Multiple UMFR units can be employed together and even cooperate if the situation demands it, but they have a tendency to 'fight' for the leadership position and devolve into heated discussions with each other (and get nothing done, not very profitable is it?). They work surprisingly well with Gestalt medical staff, however, which allows them to work in large hospitals or rehab centers as well.

While wholly dedicated to their work, they are particularly susceptible to stress and instability/damage that comes with it, therefore must be consistently provided with ways to lower it. Aside from allowing them the company of their cadre, ample personal space in dorms and comfort items (as requested by the specific unit) are advised to keep their stress low long-term

They enjoy doing various paper crafts, napping whenever possible, and reading books about nature

they're short. please put a stepladder in their office

If you've read this far, thank you and I hope you like them <3 I want to post more of her and start working on a proper story & specific characters i want it to focus on so keep an eye out if you're interested in seeing more !!

If you'd like to talk about Signalis ocs with me I am also open to that... blinks cutely

[apollo9235]

My OCs for @jayrockin's Runaway To The Stars! Drawn by the fantastic @translunaryanimus, Who has just posted a short comic with them as well as two of his own OCs!

In alphabetical order we have:

Aalok (she/her, they/it) - The ship's AI, here we see her in her preferred RC unit, that little toy robot on Maristel's shoulder. They acquired a functionally infinite supply of this toy when an entire container full of the product was recalled and left in the distro center. For reference they are 10cm (~4 inches) tall. When not in an RC unit Aalok represents itself as a monogram of its name. Since they have so many spares, it's not unheard of for Aalok to intentionally destroy or loose one of the units in service of a joke.

Maristel (They/Them) - 'Captain' of The Screwloose. (Info here) They take over piloting whenever Aalok lets them, but primarily they deal in negotiations with clients. While no where near as good as someone who specifically studies the languages of other sophonts, they can speak (or sign) all the common languages well enough to ingratiate themself and their crew to clients. Their pronunciation is great, but word choice and sentence construction is often lacking. Maristel is a unique GMH and also a biomodder, they take the attitude that: "If I'm already gonna be a weird croc-taur, might as well have fun with it and do what I want!"

Tuuvarii (she/they) Tuuvarii is the engineer for The Screwloose, They have a hormone imbalance that makes it so they're permanently 'in spring' much to the horror of other Avians, but it doesn't really get in the way often. Maybe because of this, maybe not, Tuuvarii is also a Carnalist, and almost always paints carnalist colors over her bright markings. Both her parents are Diver Avians but somewhere up the family tree there's a skimmer so she ended up with a more prominent crest and larger ears than most other Divers. Ears which they've done some modification to, circle cutouts and grafting skin from the webbing on their hands. Probably gonna post detailed timelines for these goobers once they're finalized and also a short story about the group meeting Hearts that I'm currently writing with @translunaryanimus. But until then I'll say this, the dynamic between these three is: Maristel & Tuuvarii- Besties Aalok & Maristel - Worsties Aalok & Tuuvarii - "Hello fellow shitster"

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER SEVEN ━━ Break In, Break Up, Break Out

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.9K

☆ ━ warnings: slight mention of conversion therapy, usage of “gayness” in a derogatory way, hella religious guilt

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: nothing, just enjoy!

PAIGE HASN’T seen Dani since what happened in the darkroom, on Friday. She doesn’t blame her, though. Dani’s been through hell—months of suppressing herself, living in fear of being who she is, and all under the roof of the man who had sent her to fucking conversion therapy of all places. Paige has felt the weight of that knowledge settle in her chest like a stone all weekend. But she knows better than to push Dani for anything more, not now. Dani needs space, time to figure out her next steps, and Paige is willing to give her all the time in the world—especially now that she knows why.

Still, it doesn’t stop her from worrying. Every time she thinks about Dani living under the same roof as her dad, the man who tried to change her, a sick feeling twists in her stomach. She hasn’t said anything about it yet, though—she doesn’t know if she plans to. She just doesn’t want to overwhelm Dani, not when they’re barely starting to reconnect.

It’s Monday morning now, and Paige is rushing to AP Lit—her first period that has been the victim of her tardiness recently. She steps into the classroom just as the bell rings, thankful that she’s just on time. Mrs. Donovan is already at the front of the room, writing something on the board about their next project. Paige’s eyes automatically drift to the familiar spot in front of her—Dani’s seat.

And there she is.

Dani sits at her desk, brown hair falling over her shoulders, her fingers drumming lightly on the surface as if she might be lost in thought. When Paige walks past her to take her own seat behind her like always, their eyes meet.

Dani’s lips curve into a small, tentative smile. It’s barely more than a flicker, but to Paige, it feels like a flash of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Her heart leaps in her chest, racing far faster than it should for something so simple, but after weeks—months, really—of being ignored by Dani, even the smallest gesture feels like a lifeline.

Paige smiles back, hoping Dani can feel just how much that small connection means to her.

She sits down, her pulse still thrumming in her ears, trying to focus as Mrs. Donovan begins explaining the project. Paige glances at the back of Dani’s head, her mind reeling, though she quickly snaps her attention to the teacher. They’ve been reading The Great Gatsby for the past few weeks, and now it’s time to wrap up the unit with their final project.

“Alright, class,” Mrs. Donovan begins as she turns to face them, “for this project, I’m going to be assigning you partners. Together, you’ll create a poster analyzing one of the central themes or symbols from Gatsby.”

Paige’s gaze wanders back to Dani’s profile as Mrs. Donovan speaks. Her mind drifts to the book they’ve been studying—for once, she didn’t hate it. She actually read the whole thing instead of reading the chapter summaries on SparkNotes. Maybe it’s because those stupid themes of longing, desire, and unattainable dreams all feels eerily close to home. Maybe not. She swallows, wondering if Dani has ever thought of it that way. She wonders if she sees their relationship—whatever this is now—as an unreachable dream, just like Gatsby’s vision of Daisy.

“As you know,” Mrs. Donovan continues, “The Great Gatsby is filled with themes of illusion and reality, the corruption of the American Dream, and the idea of trying to recapture a lost past. I want you and your partner to explore one of these ideas in depth, using specific scenes from the novel to support your argument. Your poster should clearly show how your chosen theme or symbol is reflected in the text, and, if you want to, you can even make connections to modern-day issues or personal reflections.”

Paige’s heart thuds in her chest. Mrs. Donovan’s words echo in her head—illusion and reality, the corruption of dreams, trying to recapture a lost past. Maybe she’s been thinking too hard—she’s been doing that a lot lately—but the parallels to her situation with Dani are almost painfully obvious. Everything between them feels like chasing something that’s just out of reach, something real but constantly slipping through their fingers.

Mrs. Donovan scans the room, looking down at her list of names. “Okay, partners are as follows… Noa and Lucy… Sam and Katie… Paige and Dani…”

Paige feels her breath catch in her throat. Of course. Of course, she and Dani are partners. It’s not a bad thing—it’s just… a little more nerve-racking than it would have been a few months back. She can feel her pulse quicken again as she glances at Dani, who turns her head just slightly, catching Paige’s eye with a soft gaze. There’s a hint of something unspoken there, a flicker of uncertainty mixed with… something else. Paige can’t quite place it.

“Once you know who your partner is, you can spend the rest of class working on your analysis,” Mrs. Donovan says, gesturing to the students.

Paige gathers her things and shifts to the empty desk next to Dani, her nerves buzzing under her skin. Dani glances at her with that same tentative smile, and Paige swears her cheeks are tinged with the faintest blush.

“So, uh…” Dani starts, her voice quieter than usual. “Which theme do you think we should focus on?”

Paige considers for a moment, her mind running through everything they’ve studied in the book. Lost dreams, unattainable desires, illusions. But there’s one that sticks out more than the rest. “What about… the idea of finding and taking back a lost past? You know, like how Gatsby’s obsessed with recreating what he had with Daisy?”

Dani’s eyes flicker with something—understanding, maybe?—and she nods. “Yeah, that could work. He spends the whole book trying to hold onto something that’s already gone, even though it’s never gonna be the same.”

Paige’s heart twists a little at the truth of those words. Is that that not what she’s been doing with Dani? Hoping to get back what they had before, even though so much has changed?

Dani continues, her voice a little more confident now that they’ve settled on a theme. “We could talk about the green light too, right? How it symbolizes Gatsby’s hope, but also how it’s just this unattainable thing that he’ll never really have. We could connect that with the idea of longing for something that’s already out of reach.”

Paige nods, her throat tightening. “Yeah, that’s good. The green light.” She pauses, her eyes drifting down to the notebook in front of her. “It’s like he’s always reaching for somethin’ that’s just… too far away.”

Their conversation flows more easily after that, though there’s an almost shyness between them that’s never been there before. Both of them are careful, cautious, as if the slightest misstep might break whatever fragile thing has started to grow between them again. But there are moments—brief, fleeting—where Paige feels the old connection, the spark that’s always been there. The accidental brushes of their hands as they pass each other the notebook, the tiny smiles exchanged when they find something they both agree on—it’s enough to make Paige’s heart race in a way that feels all too familiar.

As they work, Paige can’t help but steal glances at Dani, the way her brows furrow when she’s concentrating, the way her lips quirk into a soft smile when they find a particularly insightful analysis. It’s like seeing a version of Dani she hasn’t in so long—open, thoughtful, the girl Paige has always known (and loved).

When the bell rings, the sound startled both of them out of their quiet focus. Paige looks up, blinking in surprise as the reality of the time hits her. “We’re definitely not going to finish this in class,” she says, a little breathless.

Dani laughs softly, and it’s like a balm to Paige’s soul. “Yeah, I didn’t think we would.”

Paige hesitates for a moment, her mind racing with possibilities. She knows Dani’s still working through everything, not wanting to get too close again especially so soon, but maybe this is Paige’s chance to spend time with her again. “Do you want to… maybe come over to my house later? I have practice, but we could work on it after?”

Dani blinks, surprised. Paige watches the hesitation, the uncertainty flick across her face as her mouth opens and closes, searching for an answer. Paige can guess why—Dani’s scared. And Paige is about to think that Dani’s going to refuse, but then the brunette nods slowly, her lips curving into another small smile. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

Paige’s heart flutters, and she can’t help the wide grin that spreads across her face. “Great. I’ll text when you come over, okay?”

“Okay,” Dani replies, her voice soft, but there’s something in her eyes—a warmth, a glimmer—that makes Paige feel like things might finally be starting to fall into place again.

DANI’S HEART pounds, her stomach in knots as she paces back and forth in her bedroom. The sun is dipped low, casting the room in the kind of dim light that makes everything feel heavier than it is. Any minute now, Paige will text her to come over so they can finish their Lit project. She tries to tell herself it isn’t a big deal—just schoolwork, nothing more. It certainly isn’t a date. It isn’t even really two friends hanging out. It’s just schoolwork. Strictly to finish their assignment.

So why does she feel like her stomach is in knots? She’s been to Paige’s house a billion times over the years. Just because it’s been a few months doesn’t mean anything’s changed, right?

But it has changed. It’s all changed.

She runs a hand through her hair, her fingers shaking. Maybe she should cancel. Paige won’t hold it against her, right? She can just make up an excuse, say something came up. Lie. She can lie and stay in her room, burying herself in the Bible that sits on her bookshelf, pretending like she isn’t still thinking about Paige all the time, in that way. Pretending that her heart isn’t tearing itself apart.

Dani lets out a shaky breath and stops pacing, her hand drifting up to the cross necklace around her neck. The cool metal feels grounding in a way, like it’s tethering her to something larger than herself. Her father always says that God will give her strength, that if she prays enough, follows the rules, and sticks to the path, things will work out.

But the path feels so blurry now. What does strength even mean when every day feels like a battle inside her own head?

Her eyes drift to the crucifix on her wall, then once more to the Bible resting on the shelf. God doesn’t approve, she thinks, the words like a drumbeat in her mind. It isn’t just God either. She knows how her dad feels. She’s known from the moment he sent her to camp, from the moment he handed her over to people who told her she could be “fixed.”

But how can she be fixed when she isn’t even sure what’s broken?

Paige isn’t the problem. That much Dani knows. Paige has never been the problem, no matter how much the counselors or Dani’s father told her she was. It’s Dani that’s the problem. It’s her mind, her heart, her inability to let go of everything her father has drilled into her for years. She’s tried to be who he wants her to be. She’s tried to be the perfect daughter, the good Catholic girl who follows all the rules.

But nothing feels right anymore. Not when she’s spent an entire five months being torn apart from the inside out. Not when she can’t even look at herself in the mirror without feeling a deep sense of guilt she can’t shake.

She tugs on the cross hanging from her neck, feeling the familiar weight pressing against her chest. This is wrong, she tells herself again, but the words feel empty. It’s the words that feel wrong now, not everything else.

Because if it’s so wrong, why does it feel so right when Paige smiles at her? Why does her heart race whenever Paige looks at her like she’s the only person in the room? And why, despite everything, does she still want to go over there tonight? And maybe every other night?

Dani’s stomach churns as she glances at her phone, wondering if Paige is even going to text her at all. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe it’s a bad idea to work together at all. They aren’t the same people they used to be, and things aren’t just going to magically fall back into place because of a stupid project.

She wants to cancel, she really does. It’s too confusing, too much to handle. But then what? She’ll sit here in her room, staring at the cross, thinking about Paige and how impossible it is to be near her but even more impossible to be without her. It’s a torturous cycle Dani can’t escape, no matter how much she prays or how hard she tries to push the thoughts away.

God doesn’t approve. The words echo again, louder this time. Dani’s fingers tighten around the necklace, her breath shallow as she stands in the middle of her room, paralyzed by indecision. She knows what her father would say. He would tell her to cancel, to stay away from Paige, to keep herself on the “right path.”

But what if she doesn’t want to stay on that path anymore?

What if she doesn’t even know where it leads?

Before she can spiral any further, a soft thud against her window pulls her from her thoughts. And then another. Dani blinks, startled, her heart jumping in her chest. She frowns, walking over to the window and pulling back the curtain. Her eyes widen in surprise when she looks down to see Paige standing in the yard, tossing tiny pebbles up at her window.

Paige grins up at her, looking a little sheepish but undeniably amused with herself. Her hair is damp and wavy, falling loose around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a Hopkins basketball long-sleeve with grey sweatpants—clearly fresh from practice and a shower. The sight of her makes Dani’s stomach flip. Dani digs a nail into her palm for the way her brain immediately dings with the thought of how good Paige looks.

“What are you doing?” Dani calls out, incredulous, though she can’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

Paige shrugs, her grin widening. “Sorry about the rocks,” she says, a bit bashfully. “But, uh, you still have my number blocked. And my Snap. And my Instagram. And I didn’t want to knock on your door. Figured your dad probably wouldn’t love seeing me on the Ring camera.”

Dani’s stomach flips at the mention of her dad. She feels a wave of guilt, her mind instantly jumping to what he’d say if he knew Paige was outside her window. But at the same time, Paige’s grin is so disarming, so warm, that it makes everything else seem a little less suffocating.

Paige gestures to her house, right, next door, and flashes that same lopsided smile that makes Dani’s chest ache. “You can come over whenever now.”

Dani stands frozen at the window, her thoughts warring with each other, but before she can stop herself, she calls back, “Yeah, okay, I’ll be down in a sec.”

She closes the window, her heart racing as she grabs her things and heads downstairs, her fingers brushing against the cross necklace one last time before she opens the door to meet Paige outside.

They don’t say much as they start walking next door to Paige’s house. It isn’t a long walk—barely thirty seconds, given how their houses stand so close together. Yet, every step feels like it’s taking Dani deeper into a situation she isn’t ready to face.

Paige’s shoulder brushes against hers as they walk, sending a jolt of electricity down Dani’s spine. She stiffens, her heart skipping a beat. For a split second, she wants to lean into Paige’s warmth, to let that connection stay, to give into that sense of closeness she hasn’t let herself feel in months. But just as quickly, the urge to pull away surges inside her. Every alarm in her head screams at her to keep her distance, to remember what’s at stake, to remember how wrong it all is.

But Dani does neither. She doesn’t lean into Paige, nor does she pull away. She just keeps walking, her eyes fixed on the ground in front of her as they make their way up the driveway to Paige’s front door.

When they step inside, the warm glow of the house envelopes them, and Dani immediately hears the sounds of a football game coming from the living room. Paige’s dad, Bob, lounges on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. The moment the door closes behind them, though, he turns his head, clearly expecting to see Paige alone.

When his gaze lands on Dani standing beside her, a flicker of surprise crosses his face. Dani’s stomach tightens as she sees the confusion in his eyes, realizing how strange it must be for him to see her here after months of silence. She hasn’t exactly made it easy on Paige, and by extension, on him either. But just as quickly as the confusion appears, it fades into a warm grin.

“Well, look who it is!” Bob exclaims, his voice full of the same kindness that’s always made Dani feel like she belongs here with the Bueckers. “Dani Callan! I thought you forgot where we lived. How you been?” His teasing tone holds no bitterness, only affection, and Dani feels a knot she hadn’t even realized was there loosen in her chest.

“Hi, Bob,” Dani replies, managing a smile. “I’ve been, um… I’ve been good. How’re you?”

“Good, good,” Bob nods, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s been a while, huh? You girls getting some schoolwork done tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a project due soon,” Dani answers, her voice steady, but the warmth in her chest remains. Bob has always been easy to talk to, the kind of dad who seems to genuinely care about what’s going on in his daughter and her friends’ lives. Unlike Dani’s own father, who’s much more reserved and strict, and has no room for anyone who doesn’t fit the mold he wants. For years, Bob has been like a second father to her, always offering an easy smile, a playful joke, and the kind of acceptance she craves so desperately at home.

It feels strange to stand here now, knowing how much she’s pulled away from all of it. But seeing that he doesn’t hate her for it—doesn’t even seem mad—is a small comfort. He’s still the same Bob, welcoming her back like no time has passed at all.

Before she can get too caught up in the moment, she feels a gentle pressure on her back. Paige’s hand is there, pushing her ever so slightly towards the stairs. “Alright, Dad, we gotta lock in,” Paige says, her voice casual, but Dani can feel the spark from Paige’s touch traveling through her body like a current.

Dani’s breath catches for a moment, her senses heightening from the simple contact. The warmth of Paige’s hand lingers long after it’s left her back, and she finds herself biting her lip, trying to control the whirlwind of emotions it stirs up inside her.

As she steps away from the living room, Dani catches Bob sending Paige a curious, almost quizzical look, like he’s trying to piece something together. She isn’t sure what it meant, but Paige’s sharp glare and the quick shake of her head that follows makes it clear that Paige doesn’t want to discuss whatever is running through her dad’s mind.

Dani respectfully pretends not to notice, keeping her gaze straight ahead as they climb the stairs to Paige’s room. She doesn’t ask what the silent exchange was about, doesn’t press for any explanation. Instead, she focuses on the task at hand—the project they’re supposed to be working on.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Dani tries to calm the storm of feelings swirling inside her. It isn’t easy, not when Paige is this close, not when the past few months of distance between them suddenly feels like they’re collapsing in on themselves. But Dani does her best, forcing herself to focus on what is important.

They’re just here to work. Nothing more. Or at least, that’s what she needs to keep telling herself.

When Dani reaches Paige’s room, she hesitates for a second in the doorway before stepping inside. It hasn’t changed much in the months since Dani last saw it. The bed, with its white comforter and a few basketball jerseys thrown haphazardly over the footboard, takes up most of the space. A desk, cluttered with textbooks, a laptop, and some old Gatorade bottles, is tucked in the corner. Posters of basketball players—Maya Moore, Sue Bird, Kobe Bryant—still line the walls, and there’s a worn basketball resting on the windowsill, sunlight catching its faded leather.

Paige drops her backpack near the desk and gestures to the bed. “We can work here. More room to spread everything out,” she says casually, already pulling out the materials for their project. She’s moving around the room with ease, like nothing’s out of the ordinary, like the weight of everything between them isn’t bearing down on them both.

Dani, on the other hand, feels like she’s walking on eggshells. She crosses the room slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands tightening around the straps of her backpack before she lets it fall to the floor. She watches as Paige plops down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, stretching her long legs out across the mattress.

For a brief moment, Dani can’t help but notice how comfortable Paige looks, her confidence and ease. She’s always had that about her—this effortless way of taking up space, like she belongs everywhere she goes. It’s one of the things Dani’s always admired about her.

“Okay, so I was thinking we could start with this quote,” Paige says, breaking Dani’s thoughts as she leans forward, flipping through The Great Gatsby. “I think it connects to the main theme pretty well, and it’s, like, kinda poetic, right? Teachers eat that shit up.”

Dani chuckles softly, more to ease her own nerves than anything else. “Yeah, they do. But if you’re gonna try to sell this as poetic, I’m the one doing the writing. Your handwriting is tragic, Paige.”

Paige looks up, mock-offended. “Hey! It’s not that bad.”

Dani raises an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk. “Drew is seven, and I think his is better than yours.”

Paige’s shakes her head, face breaking into a grin, and she tosses a balled-up sock at Dani. “You’re so mean.”

Dani laughs as she dodges the sock, some of the tension loosening in her chest. The teasing feels like old times—like before everything got so complicated. It’s easy, comfortable, and for a second, Dani lets herself enjoy it.

They settle into the work, spreading the poster board out on the bed between them. Dani takes the Sharpie, naturally assuming the role of the one in charge of writing, while Paige flips through their book, looking for quotes and points to add.

For a while, it feels almost normal. Paige is talking, rambling about how stupid it is Mrs. Donovan is for assigning such a tedious project on top of all their other assignments, and Dani merely listens, her focus split between writing and keeping herself from staring too long at Paige. But as they fall into a rhythm, Dani becomes aware of how close Paige is sitting, their knees brushing occasionally, Paige’s arm resting against hers as she points out things to add to the poster.

And then, Dani feels it—Paige’s breath, warm against the side of her face. She’s leaning in, watching Dani write something down, her face hovering close, too close. Dani’s heart skips a beat, her hand faltering for a split second before she forces herself to keep writing. But it’s hard—so fucking hard—because all she can think about is how close Paige is, how their proximity makes her skin tingle, how she’s suddenly hyper-aware of every movement, every shift in the air between them.

Paige doesn’t seem to notice—at least, not at first. She’s just watching Dani’s hand move across the poster board, her focus seemingly on the project. But then, Dani turns her head just slightly, feeling the heat of Paige’s breath on her cheek, and she makes the mistake of meeting Paige’s eyes.

Everything stops.

For a moment, it feels like time freezes, and all Dani can see is Paige—those bright blue eyes, intense and unwavering, locked onto hers. Dani’s heart races, pounding so hard she’s sure Paige can hear it. And then, Paige’s gaze flickers, dropping down to Dani’s lips, and Dani feels her stomach twist painfully, every nerve in her body screaming at her to just do it. To close the gap, to kiss her, to finally stop pretending.

But she can’t.

She can’t.

Dani’s head is spinning, the weight of everything crashing down on her all at once. Her body wants to lean in, to give in to the pull between them, but her mind—her mind is a storm of guilt, of shame, of fear.

It’s wrong.

It’s all wrong.

So she pulls away, turning her head sharply and forcing her gaze back down to the poster, her hand gripping the Sharpie so tightly it hurts. Her heart is still racing, her body still trembling with the aftermath of what almost happened. But she forces herself to focus, to breathe, to keep going as if nothing had just passed between them.

She hears Paige let out a long, quiet breath beside her, and then, softly, “I’m sorry.”

The words hang in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Dani feels them settle deep in her chest, a mix of relief and regret swirling together in a confusing mess of emotions. Paige’s apology is genuine—Dani can hear it in her voice—but it only makes things harder. Because the truth is, Dani isn’t sorry at all.

She’s only sorry that she pulled away.

And that’s the worst part.

Dani doesn’t look up. She doesn’t trust herself to. Instead, she murmurs, “It’s okay,” though she knows it’s not. Nothing about this is okay. But what else can she say?

They fall back into an uneasy silence after that, the weight of what almost happened still thick in the air. Dani focuses on finishing the poster, her hand moving mechanically, trying to pretend like her mind isn’t still reeling. Paige, for her part, stays quiet too, though Dani can feel her shifting beside her, can sense the tension in her body.

Finally, when the poster is nearly complete, Paige clears her throat, breaking the silence. “You, uh… you coming to the game tomorrow?” she asks, her voice casual, like she’s trying to lighten the mood.

Dani blinks, the sudden question catching her off guard. “The game?”

“Yeah. Season opener for both the boys’ and girls’ teams,” Paige says, her tone a little brighter now. “I thought you knew.”

Dani shakes her head, feeling a bit dazed. “No, I didn’t know.”

Paige gasps dramatically, her eyes widening in mock horror. “Dani! How could you not know? This is, like, the most important night of the school year so far!”

Dani can’t help but smile a little, despite herself. “I guess I’ve been… distracted.”

“Well, now you know,” Paige says, grinning at her. “And you have to come. Everyone’s going to be there, and you’ll get to watch me hoop. And, y’know, dominate.”

Dani rolls her eyes, but the playful banter eases some of the tension that’s been hanging between them. “Maybe,” she says, her tone noncommittal, though she’s already thinking about it. About seeing Paige out on the court, in her element, the way she always is.

Paige nudges her with her shoulder, her touch light and playful. “Come on. You know you want to.”

Dani shakes her head, trying not to smile. “We’ll see.”

But even as she says it, she knows she’ll be there. When it comes to Paige, even if she doesn’t want to be, she always is.

DANI’S STARTING to wish she didn’t come. She stands in the student section, squeezed between Beau and his friends, the noise of the gym around them loud and chaotic. The boys’ basketball game is in full swing, and Beau’s friends are hyped up, yelling and laughing. Beau’s arm is loosely draped over her shoulders, but it feels heavy, like a weight she can’t shake off.

She tries to focus on the game—basketball has always been something she’s enjoyed, not just because of Paige, but because she grew up around it. Paige’s passion for the sport had bled into Dani over the years, so watching a game, especially when the stakes are high, has always been something she genuinely likes.

But Beau is being obnoxious. They’ve been bickering the whole night, subtle digs and passive-aggressive comments about stupid things, and Dani’s patience is already running thin. Every time he opens his mouth, she feels herself getting more annoyed, his voice grating on her nerves.

“Why are you even getting mad?” Beau snaps, his tone sharp but low enough that his friends don’t catch it. “It’s not that deep, Dani.”

She grits her teeth, keeping her eyes on the court. “I’m not mad, I’m just—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head. It’s not worth it. Not here, not in front of everyone.

The boys’ game is nearing the end, and Hopkins is winning. The student section is electric, buzzing with excitement as the clock winds down. Dani tries to get into it, cheering with the rest of them as the final buzzer sounds and the boys secure their win. Beau and his friends are all high-fiving, acting like they had something to do with it, and Dani plays along, smiling tightly.

But the second the boys’ game is over, Beau grabs her hand. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, already pulling her out of the student section.

Dani blinks, pulling her hand back. “What? The girls’ game hasn’t even started yet.”

Beau frowns, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, and? Girls’ basketball is boring.”

Liam, one of Beau’s friends, overhears and looks at them, eyebrows raised. “Bro, what? No, it’s not. They won states last year.”

Dani crosses her arms, glaring at Beau. “Exactly. Hopkins’ girls’ team is legit, and Paige—”

“Bueckers is a dawg on the court, for real,” Liam adds, cutting in. “I know you don’t fuck with her for whatever reason, but come on, man, we’re supposed to be running the student section. Everyone’s staying for the girls’ game.”

Beau rolls his eyes, clearly irritated. He stares at Liam with his lips pursed for a moment, before his eyes flick down to Dani. They’re asking a silent question.

Dani raises her eyebrows at him, her voice cool. “I’m staying.”

Beau stares at her for a second longer, then sighs loudly, like he’s making some huge sacrifice. “Fine. Whatever.” He flops back down in his seat with an exaggerated groan, and Dani fights the urge to roll her eyes.

The girls’ game is about to start, and Dani can already feel the shift in energy. The stands are still full, and the Hopkins crowd is as loud as ever. When the girls’ team comes out onto the court, led by Paige, the cheers erupt again, the student section losing its mind.

Dani’s eyes immediately find Paige. It’s impossible not to. Paige moves with this effortless confidence, her face all focus and determination as she leads her team through warm-ups. The way she dribbles, the way she commands the court—it’s something Dani’s always admired, even if she’d never admit it out loud. Paige is great—better than great, honestly.

The game starts, and Dani locks in, watching as Paige takes control of Hopkins’ offense, setting the pace and threading passes that seem impossible. The whole team is clicking, and it’s easy to see why they’re such a powerhouse.

It’s not just Paige, Dani tells herself. She’s genuinely interested in the game.

But deep down, she knows that’s a lie.

Her eyes keep finding the blonde—how she cuts to the basket, how she dishes out assists, how every movement is calculated and precise. It’s hard to look away. There’s something magnetic about Paige when she’s playing, like she’s exactly where she belongs.

Just when Dani is fully absorbed in the game, Beau nudges her with his elbow. “You seriously like this?” he mutters under his breath.

Dani’s jaw tightens. “Yeah, I do,” she snaps back, her voice low but sharp. She doesn’t need this right now, not when she’s finally getting into the game.

Beau scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s so slow. No dunks, no excitement. I don’t get it.”

Dani’s patience is wearing thin. “I like it because it’s good basketball, Beau.”

He gives her a look, his lips curving into a smirk that she immediately hates. “Yeah, sure.”

She turns away from him, trying to ignore how irritated she feels, but Beau doesn’t let up. “You know, if you didn’t have a weird thing for Bueckers, maybe you’d see how boring this is.”

Dani’s stomach twists at the mention of Paige, and she sends him a sharp glare. “I don’t have a thing for her,” she mutters, her voice tight, but even she doesn’t believe the words.

Beau just laughs, clearly enjoying the fact that he’s getting under her skin. “Right. You’ve been staring at her this whole game.”

Dani digs a nail into the palm of her hand. “Just drop it, okay?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, eyes returning to the game with such a disinterest that it makes Dani want to slap him.

Dani’s heart is racing now, a mix of anger and anxiety bubbling up in her chest. She’s not defensive—she just… she just likes watching a good game. That’s it. It has nothing to do with Paige. But the more Beau talks, the harder it is to convince herself of that.

Beau leans in closer, his voice lowering. “If you wanna stay for her, fine. But don’t pretend like this isn’t about her.”

Dani turns to him, her eyes narrowing. “You know what? I don’t need this right now.”

Beau’s smirk falters slightly, but he shrugs. “Whatever, Dani. You’re the one getting all worked up.”

Dani exhales slowly, forcing herself to look back at the game, but the moment is ruined. She can’t focus on the court anymore, can’t enjoy the way Paige is commanding the floor. All she can feel is Beau’s eyes on her, the weight of everything he’s implying pressing down on her.

Paige makes a slick pass to one of her teammates, and the crowd roars, but Dani barely registers it. She’s too distracted, too pissed off at Beau, and all she wants to do is yell at him, tell him to shut up, to stop ruining this for her.

Beau starts bouncing on his feet, clearly agitated, needing something to do. He leans over Dani to say to Liam, who sits next to her, “Man, this shit is so fuckin’ boring.”

Liam gives him a look, responding with, “Nah, it’s entertaining as hell. Quit being like that, bro.”

Beau rolls his eyes at his friend’s answer before his gaze returns to his girlfriend, and he mutters, “This game doesn’t even matter.”

Dani’s heart pounds in her chest, her frustration boiling over. “Yes, it does,” she hisses, turning to face him. “Have you not noticed that everyone but you likes watching them play? You’re acting like a misogynistic dick.”

Beau just laughs, shaking his head in what Dani thinks is disbelief. “You know, I really don’t get it, Dani,” he says, tongue poking at his cheek. “You used to be so fun. Now you’re just—”

“Just what?” she snaps, her voice louder than she intended. Several people in the student section glance over at them, but Dani doesn’t care.

“Forget it,” Beau mutters, looking away, but Dani’s had enough.

“No, say it,” she demands, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “What am I, Beau?”

He glares at her, his jaw tightening. “You’re pathetic. That’s what. Sitting here pretending you care about this stupid game just because your little crush is out there running the court.”

Dani’s breath catches in her throat, anger flaring hot and fast. “God, you’re such an asshole.”

Beau snorts, rolling his eyes. “Oh, I’m the asshole? You’ve been acting weird as hell for weeks!”

Before she can even think of a response, he stands up, making a move like he’s going to leave. “I’m done with this shit. Let’s just go.”

Dani’s had enough. Every word that comes out of his mouth feels like a punch to the gut, and the way he’s looking at her right now—like she’s some kind of burden—makes her want to scream. She can feel her pulse in her temples, the frustration clawing at her, and she can’t take it anymore.

“Fine,” she says, her voice clipped as she grabs her jacket off the bleacher. “Let’s go.”

She storms out of the student section, Beau right on her heels, muttering under his breath. The second they’re outside, the cold air hits her like a slap in the face. It’s dark now, the night settling in over the high school, and the quiet around them makes every word that follows feel louder, sharper.

“Jesus, what the hell is your problem?” Beau snaps, his voice echoing as they walk past the athletic entrance.

Dani spins around, her eyes blazing. “My problem? You’ve been a dick all night, Beau. I’m trying to have a good time, and all you do is bitch about everything. Why can’t you just—” She breaks off, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Why can’t you just be normal for one fucking night?”

He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowed. “Maybe I wouldn’t be pissed off if you weren’t so obvious about how much you still care about her. Y’know, I thought you were done with her. But it seems like her gayness is still rubbing off on you!”

Dani flinches, his words hitting too close to home. “This isn’t about Paige,” she lies, her voice cracking slightly.

Beau scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest. “Bullshit, Dani. It’s always about Paige with you. And it’s always about you with Paige. Do you know how many times she’s talked to me about you like some protective girlfriend? As if you’re dating her instead of me!”

“She and I aren’t fucking dating!” Dani yells, her frustration boiling over. “We hardly even speak any more, Jesus Christ! She’s only so protective because we’ve been best friends since we were kids, and she can probably tell how shit of a boyfriend you are!”

He shakes his head, his jaw clenched. “Bull-fucking-shit,” he denies, narrowing his eyes at her. “You’re not just friends with her, and we both know it.”

Dani freezes ever so slightly, her heart thudding in her chest. The accusation hangs in the air between them, thick and suffocating. Beau’s staring at her, his eyes hard, waiting for her to deny it, but she can’t. She doesn’t say anything, her mind racing, and in that silence, she knows that he knows.

“See?” Beau says bitterly, throwing his arms out. “You can’t even deny it.”

“I don’t—” Dani starts, but her voice falters. She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t even know how to process what’s happening. All she knows is that she’s so tired. Tired of pretending, tired of fighting, tired of this relationship that’s been falling apart ever since it started.

Beau shakes his head, turning away like he’s about to walk off. “I don’t know why I even bother anymore.”

Dani’s chest tightens, and before she can stop herself, she blurts out, “Then don’t.”

Beau stops, his back still to her, and when he turns around, his face is set in a hard, bitter expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dani takes a deep breath, the cold air stinging her lungs. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Beau. I can’t keep pretending like we’re good, because we’re not.”

His eyes flash with anger, but there’s something else there too—something like hurt. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna throw this all away because of her?”

Dani shakes her head, keeping her gaze firm. “This isn’t for her,” she responds. “This is for me. And I think this might be for you, too. You’re not happy; I’m not happy. We’ve been done for a while, and you know it.”

Beau stares at her for a long moment, and then he laughs—a pungent, humorless sound. “Fine. I don’t give a shit anymore.”

He turns on his heel, walking away, and Dani watches him go, her breath fogging in the cold night air. She should feel something—regret, sadness, anything—but all she feels is relief. A strange, dizzying sense of freedom washes over her as Beau disappears into the dark.

She stands there for a moment, staring at the empty parking lot, her heart still racing. The night is quiet now, the only sound the distant hum of the game still going on inside. And for the first time in a long time, Dani feels like she can finally breathe.

[cinnbar-bun]

Straw Hats- Reversed AU HCs

AU: In which YOU are the character of a very famous franchise, and they are regular people who are fans of your series.

Note: GN!Reader, crack, very unserious

Luffy

Thinks you’re neat! Super cool!

People think he doesn’t really “get” you and just likes you for your awesome powers and/or cool appearance, but he drops like an innocent yet profound tidbit about you that shows he really is thinking of you.

Honestly probably only has a bootleg figure of you courtesy of Ace. It’s goofy as hell but he adores it.

Maybe has one of those printed graphic tees.

Ace and Sabo joke about his love for you but then Luffy throws his slippers at them.

If he sees anything with you on it, he’s just gushing over it.

Loves finding funny comics with you online.

Zoro

Guy who likes you for your powers.

The same guy who is also a weeb in front of the mirror and tries to replicate your awesome moves.

Help his roommates caught him-

I think he’d get those compression shirts/shorts with you or a symbol of yours for when he works out.

Also the guy who’s working out to your voice like those ASMR videos so he can pretend you’re praising him and congratulating him.

Gets into fights with Sanji about who’s the bigger fan.

I don’t see Zoro as the type to “collect” things, but he’d probably have a keychain of you around his belt or something as a good luck charm.

Might even have an action and poseable figure of you like a Figma.

Nami

Likes you lots, but also recognizes your merch potential.

Works alongside Usopp to produce fan merch or zines for you to make money.

Has a unique piece of jewelry with your symbol/iconography to wear.

She’s not wearing “obvious” for merch, because she just isn’t about that.

Probably has a few very expensive figures of yours that are special edition or anniversary editions that she managed to get at a steep discount.

Reads a bit of fanfic but tends to mostly peruse fanart of you.

Tends to have multiple ships for you- she doesn’t really favor one over the other she just thinks they’re interesting.

Likes to do cosplays of your fits, though. She’s gotten very popular for her lovely cosplays. She tends to handmake most of her cosplays, but Usopp and Franky add to the amazing accessories.

Plays the gacha game for your series, and her amazing luck means she gets practically all your units easily.

Usopp

The artist of the group who has seen and had to do heinous things for a commission.

Unlike the others, he IS making a self insert and HE IS DOING ART AND COMICS WITH YOU AND HIM AS THE MAIN COUPLE!

Has made a name for himself of making doujins and art for you. His store has seen lots of purchases for his doujins.

Nami basically is his account manager and has made him raise commission prices many times in order to pay their rent and so he can realize how valued his work is.

He mostly just posts his work but does like answering questions from fans and posting about how awesome you looked in the new episode.

Always making art and stories from you.

Has done fanfiction for you but it’s mostly with his OC/SI and his artwork tends to be more well-known.

Always does special drawings for your birthday and various holidays.

Plays the gacha and has bad luck so he has to whale for your unit. He insists he prefers just regular console or PC gaming instead of gacha.

Sanji

Number one fan, he WILL get into arguments about you and inject you into everything.

All your figures, all your merch, all of it in one specific room dedicated to you. Sanji even has a lifesize figure of you in a cool/cute pose he religiously cleans (and prays to ngl) every day because AINT NO WAY HIS LOVE IS GOING TO GET A SPECK OF DUST ON THEM!!

His work as a chef makes him busy, but he likes to wear small things of you like a brooch or something on his uniform to cheer him up through the day.

Makes videos cooking things you cooked or dishes you liked within the series.

He sometimes shows off his collection and Zoro calls him a loser and they get into fights in the comments.

Commissions art of you (probably Usopp) to hang up in the (Y/n) room.

I feel like he would do a persona/self-insert but also I feel like he’d be like no!!!! I cannot sully my beloved like that!!! So he focuses on just you.

Blocks people who are fans of you and does not like shipping anyone with you, hell no his mellorine is HIS!!!

Has done fanfic, mostly self-insert, and that’s pretty much all he reads. No ships.

Robin

“Oh, (Y/n)? Yes, they are an interesting character. I like them.”

[1 Million word count fic series, tagged: slow burn, character exploration, heavy angst, found family, Book 4 of 7]

“I just think they’re neat.”

Probably the mother fic writer for you and/or one of your ships.

Doesn’t socialize much online, just tends to post and scroll through the fics for you and answers comments under her fic.

Likes to support her fellow creators so she does look into the art and projects other fans have made.

Does try to create her own aesthetics for her blog and fics, but sometimes she just commissions Usopp to make her things for her fics to fit her vision.

Is really into unique and often abstract or “dark” art of you.

Yes you’re her favorite character, yes she will still make you suffer in her fics and art for the ~development~.

It’s a running gag with her peers where they ask her how she will torture them next.

She finds the Nendoroids of you are quite cute, so she bought one to go on her desk.

Franky

Franky likes making garage set figures of you.

He’s also a bit of a dork, so he will often make you pose with a super sentai outfit or large gundam robots (since they’re also a part of his crafting hobby).

Makes videos showing off the new figures he made of you.

He loves you cuz you’re his hero, you just amaze him!

Printed a photo of the art your creator did where you guys were all dressed like super heroes or something- suuuuppper up his alley and he loved seeing it.

He likes collecting the manga/comics for your series and keeps them on his personal shelf.

Franky also helps Nami/others with specific cosplay accessories. Franky is known for his craftsmanship, so he’s made plenty of cosplay gear for others that are above and beyond.

Him and Usopp have collabed to create the original figures of you that Franky adores.

Does those videos where he takes cheaper/smaller figures of you and adds to the base and design to make it more “epic”.

What the hell is “fanfiction”?

Brook

Goes by the username “Soul King” and uploads his covers of your franchise’s music.

He really loves you though so he’s often rocking your shirts while he’s recording the music.

He does a lot of different genres for your theme covers- jazz, heavy metal, lofi, piano, music box- he’s done em all.

Whenever he’s not recording covers of his music and does streams, he very proudly shows his figure of you and a poster he has hanging up on his wall.

Also plays the gacha game, has pretty good luck but never with your units.

“Wow! 5 Sugo-rares! Who are they- GOD DAMN IT IT’S JUST THE OTHERS!!! RATE UP IS A LIE!!!”

Brook is a menace though and I’m gonna keep that under wraps for various reasons.

Maybe in the future I might explain further.

Jinbei

Jinbei is classy, unlike many of the others here (we will not name names).

He’s more likely to “make” his own merchandise for you.

Handmade doll with a lovingly sewn kimono, for example.

Fancy tea set that is painted with your symbols but it’s so subtle and chic that some of his viewers don’t even realize it’s from some random franchise he likes.

He prides himself on his traditional and handmade crafts and you’re just an avenue to experiment with them.

He likes to design the kimonos and outfits with you in mind and the season. He shows the process of creating it in these calm and quiet BTS videos.

Really they are beautiful and the amount of love and skillmanship put into the work he does is fantastic, it’s awe inspiring.

Does not know what a fanfic, a gacha, or what a “fan edit” is. He’s an old man he’s got things to do, man.

[insipid-drivel]

Warhorses: Which horses are actually good candidates, anyway?

This post is in honor of @warrioreowynofrohan, who asked the question in the comments under my guide, "Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap". Their question, "Given what you said about too much weight breaking a horse’s spine, how did that work with knights in plate armour?" is one I'm going to try to answer here, since the answer can be very nuanced depending on where and when you're talking about.

Also, while I was a stable hand for years as well as a rider, I never had the opportunity to directly learn more ancient styles of tacking, horse training, and combat, so I don't have any direct experience to draw from with regard to horses used for military purposes. I'm still gonna do my best here with what I know, and research what I don't.

As I've covered in the past, large horses (draft horses) make less-than-ideal warhorses, and so do carriage horses like the elegant and dramatic Friesians.

Let's begin by addressing this from the perspective of creative writing. For you writers and content creators out there, an essential part to the continuity of any historically-themed work you do involving horses will be depicting breeds of horses that didn't exist before a certain time in history. I'm going to approach this question from the stance of, "Medieval-type era warhorses". Horses were used in warfare as late was World War II, but actual horses you ride into battle with knights and archers and bannermen? We actually have to drop the subject of specific modern breeds altogether aside from using them for comparisons.

When discussing warhorses, various cultures have approached them differently. Some cultures will value a specific type of horse above all others, such as the Mongolian Steppe Horse or the American Mustang. Other cultures, which may be from biomes and territories where multiple types of horses are needed for different forms of warfare and tactics, value whichever horses can get their jobs done without their riders getting killed.

Carrying vs. Pulling:

Horses have been used in warfare since as far back as 4000 BC, but their first applications were more as chariot horses. Humans have been riding and working with horses since before we even had stirrups to more easily ride them with! As archaeologists and anthropologists make more discoveries, the more we learn that we humans have been working closely with horses since before we had specialized tools to ride them with. The very first warhorses pulled chariots or carts, which is much easier for a horse's anatomy to handle compared to carrying a heavy weight like an armored rider on their backs, which puts stress directly on their spines where they have very little supporting muscle for supporting a lot of heavy downward weight.

Warhorse Size Categories:

Really, any breed of horse can apply to a niche in warfare if it's needed enough. Even very small, delicate horses have had their place in the history of human combat! Before I continue, it's important to know that there's a unique unit of measuring a horse's height. Rather than measuring a horse's height in centimeters or inches, they're measured in units called "hands". A single "hand" = ~4 inches/10.16cm, and a horse's height is measured based upon the distance between the bottom of their hoof to the tallest part of their shoulders, just at the base of the back of their necks. We don't actually include neck length/head height in a horse's measurements with traditional measuring.

Another rule of thumb: The average horse cannot safely carry anything heavier than about 30% of their total body weight. This is a serious factor to take into mind when deciding on a type of or breed of horse for a mounted warrior of any kind: You need to factor in the OC's starting body weight, and then add on the weight of armor, weapons, and any armor the horse itself may wear along with the weight of its tack.

Light-Weight Horses:

A few examples of lightweight horse breeds whose ancestors have historically been used in combat are Arabians, Barber Horses, and the magnificent Akhal-Teke. Lightweight and delicately-boned horses like those are best applied for military maneuvers that require precision, speed, and endurance, and the rider themselves should specialize in some form of combat or reconnaissance that doesn't require them to wear heavy metal or laminated armors. Archers are good candidates for riding smaller horses, or lightly-armored swordsmen like an Ottoman Janissary.

Central-Asian and North African horses also benefit from having a higher tolerance for hot climates. They can absolutely suffer from heatstroke and cardiac arrest from being forced to run and work in extreme temperatures and should always be provided with the same protective measures in a heatwave as any other horse, but they have a little bit of an edge over horses descended from freezing and temperate climates.

Medium-Weight Horses:

Medium-weight horses started showing up in the archaeological record around about the Iron Age, where chariot warfare was becoming an increasingly utilized form of mobile combat, and people needed bigger, stronger horses capable of pulling heavier loads - such as a chariot with two passengers rather than just one. As cultures began to develop heavier-duty armors made of metals and laminated materials, it also became important to breed horses that were tall and stocky (muscular and with relatively short spines compared to their height), and therefore more capable of carrying riders in increasingly heavy armor. Medium-weight horses were also essential at the dawn of the gunpowder age when the cannon came into use in siege warfare for pulling the heavy, iron cannons into position.

Medium-weight horses are really where we see the beginnings of knights and other warrior classes on horseback come into the forefront of warfare. When you have a horse that's big and strong enough to carry heavier armor and heavier weapons along with a rider wielding them, you have a much deadlier force at your disposal. Strikes from a sword or spear from the back of a galloping horse basically results in a sword capable of cutting through enemy soldiers like a hot knife through butter.

Important Note: Traditionally, cavalrymen wield blunt swords when attacking from a charging horse's back. When a horse is charging at full speed, the sharpness of a blade becomes less important than the blade's ability to stay in one piece when it impacts hard armor and bone. A blunted edge basically turns a cavalryman's sword into a thin club that's better at holding up against smashing through multiple layers of armor and bone compared to a thinner, more delicate sharpened edge that can shatter from a high-speed impact.

Heavy-Weight Horses:

The direct ancestors of modern draft horses, such as the Shire Horse, only began to appear around about the beginning of the European Medieval Era, and were far and away not even close to the enormous sizes of the draft horses we have today. Any horse counts as a "Heavy-weight" classed horse if its weight exceeds 1500lbs/680kgs.

Heavy-weight horses were really more bred for pulling enormous weights rather than carrying knights. While yeah, there is some evidence that suggests that heavy-weight horses were used by heavily-armored knights, historians argue a lot about whether it was a rule or an exception (such as with Henry VIII, who continued to ride well after he had begun to weigh more than 350lbs/158kgs, and even went to war in France in his final years on horseback). Generally speaking, medium-weight horses tend to be the right balance of agile and strong for carrying someone that's going to actively be fighting. Heavy-weight horses were bred to be a lot more tolerant to the chaos and frightening stimulation of the sounds of battle, but medium-weighted horses generally tended to be more suited to moving efficiently through dense packs of soldiers and weaving around other horses.

Ponies:

While actually being the smallest class of warhorse, ponies were essential when it came to carrying cargo and working as pack-horses. In certain forms of terrain, such as mountains, large horses pulling big carts full of supplies or soldiers could often be extremely impractical. In situations where an army needed to move on foot and form a narrow line in order to travel, ponies were able to traverse much narrower and rougher terrain while carrying smaller loads to their destination, when heavier horses would struggle more under their own weight and dexterity.

Europe-Specific Terminologies:

If you're a writer reading this and writing a piece set in the European Medieval age, there are specific terms used for the different classes I listed of warhorses above that I'm gonna list:

Destriers: The Destrier was a universal term for the iconic knight-carrying, jousting horse. They were also sometimes referred to as "Great Horses" due to their reputations in combat settings. Destriers could have just about any appearance, but were rarely taller than 15.2 hands, or 62inches/157cm. They were capable of carrying heavily-armored knights (although knights in full plate mail rarely rode into battle and stayed on the horse the entire time - they tended to specialize at grouping up and killing a lot of footsoldiers swarming them at once and preventing breaks in defenses from being overwhelmed by an oncoming army; in the case of Edward the Black Prince, we have substantial evidence in the form of his surviving brigandine that a mounted soldier or knight was more likely to wear chainmail and brigandine with a tabard on their body with their arms, feet, and heads the most heavily armored in plate when they intended to fight on horseback, making them a little lighter and more maneuverable, but I may be waaay off base there because I'm thinking of more of Italian soldiers who used full plate and how they applied it in battle more than any other example) and wearing armor themselves.

Interestingly, the sex of a destrier was often chosen strategically. Stallions (horses that haven't been neutered) are more aggressive, and could both act as combatants on their own if their knight was dismounted or killed, but could give away an army's location if they were attempting to move stealthily. Stallions whinny and shriek a lot when they're horny or arguing with each other, which is most of the time.

Mares were often chosen by Muslim armies for being much less vocal, and therefore much more capable of stealth. Geldings (neutered males) were the preferred mounts of the Teutonic Knights, a Catholic military group, since they couldn't be stolen and used to breed more horses for the enemy army.

Coursers:

Coursers were the most common Medieval European warhorse. It's important to remember that in Medieval Europe, most armies were almost entirely comprised of common men - serfs subject to the will of their landlords, not far removed from slaves in many ways - who couldn't afford the highly-prized and expensive Destriers. Coursers were usually a bit lighter than Destriers, but were still strong enough to carry someone wearing armor. Coursers were also a little more utilitarian, because they were also sometimes used in hunting as well as warfare, so they had a valuable use outside of warfare that the owner could benefit from.

Rouncey:

A rouncey was an all-purpose horse that could be used for leisure and travel-riding as well as be trained for war. They were a lot more likely to be found on the farm of a serf or independent farmer of some kind, as they could fill a lot of different roles depending on what they were needed for. Their sizes weren't really important as much as their ability to get the job done.

It's also critical to remember that, when talking about warhorses, we're usually talking about eras long past. In general, thanks to resource availability and incredible advances in medicine, modern humans are significantly taller, and therefore heavier, than people from the European Medieval era and prior. While fatness was valued in many cultures for its suggestion of wealth, most working-class and serf-class people worked intensely physically-demanding daily lives just to maintain their own homes. They were a few inches shorter on average than we are today, had greater fluctuations in body fat distribution depending on how harsh or bountiful the harvest season had been and the season in which a war was taking place (the average person's weight would swing by 30lbs or more on average every year prior to the industrial era), and cavalry were usually chosen based upon skill in the saddle as well as physical size when considering the application of medium or heavy armor being placed on the horse's back and body.

[tearwolfe]

Just wondering,

How do you come up with ideas for clothes when it comes to AU’s that don’t use in game costumes? (Supercyber, uhhhhhhhhh, etc)

i've been designing outfits for OCs for ages, so a lot of it is just practice! but i also reference cards & costumes from the game for ideas.

it's pretty obvious for these two, but i took inspo from their old unit outfits for their looks. tsukasa's is more close, but i did get some ideas from rui's.

the seal's is like a gayer version of jellyfish rui's.

i took my liberties from these cards.

i kind of mixed these for some reason instead of just using one set..? rui leans more RMD, while tsukasa is more OHE.

i do use google & pinterest if i need specific ideas! i used pinterest a lot for the magical girls.

[creatingblackcharacters]

(Coming here after going through your lesson on AAVE and going through the links on there)

Having some trouble knowing exactly what my OC's linguistic background would be. He lived in England (specifically London) as a kid up until he was about 5-6, before moving to the United States (specifically rural Kentucky). Because of the differences between these places, l've been having trouble finding anything super specific about how they would mix.

Do you have any advice or further reading or links that I could look at?

Tysm!! :D

Gotta be honest, I'm not sure how that'd mix either 😅 like apparently 21 Savage is from England, but he sounds straight outta Atlanta. So I think it depends on how the people around him sound.

As someone who grew up in the area, over time he's gonna start sounding country. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Like there will be twangs in his accent that sound like he's from Kentucky (like for example: "Versailles" is pronounced "ver-sails". "Louisville" is pronounced "lou-ah-vul"). Maybe every now and then the London accent will come out, but yeah. Plus, as we all have seen, AAVE may start in certain places, but it will make its way around via the internet. So he'll probably use whatever is available at the time to speak with other Black people.

I'll leave this one up though, for folks who've moved countries! They'd have more understanding than I.