jolliathan

[jolliathan]

My boyfriend and his stand; Take Five!

Ability: Take Five has the ability to dwindle or fully remove an object's kinetic energy for five seconds at a time. This has the visual of a net and chain going around the object and slowly changing its hue yellow - orange. During this stall period, the object is slowed down or stopped completely as the drained kinetic energy is stored and multiplied x5. After five seconds, the energy is restored, often launching whatever object like that of a bullet.

Take Five is a fully conscious stand and works against its user on a bad day, draining energy and thoughts before giving them back all at once and causing the user to get overwhelmed or shut down. It is able to talk for itself, head shifting like an accordion and mimicking staticy voices like an old radio.

[jolliathan]

===Character Sheet===

Azarion (Ace Smith)

Artist

╔═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╗

˚｡⋆.Alias/Nicknames:

˚｡⋆.Age: Visually 30s

˚｡⋆.Nationality: Based in America

˚｡⋆.Height: 6'

˚｡⋆.Weight: < 175lbs

˚｡⋆.Skin: Tan

˚｡⋆.Hair: Deep Brown

˚｡⋆.Eyes: Golden and Slitted

˚｡⋆.Extra Descriptors: Claws and fangs that can be retracted

˚｡⋆.Personality: Complete and total ass. Cocky, Goofy, Flirtatious. Not the smartest but means well

˚｡⋆.Sex: Male

˚｡⋆.Gender: Whatever

˚｡⋆.Pronouns: Any/All

˚｡⋆.Sexuality: Pansexual

˚｡⋆.Hobbies: Writing scripts, designing clothes (lingerie + costumes), day drinking and partying the night away.

✦ ⠂⠂STORY ⠂⠂✦

Stationed on Earth, Azarion was a demon on the mission to promote temptation and sin for Hell's side. After taking on the name; Ace Smith, he was partnered with an angel named Lucamir (Lou Smith) to corrupt. To spread his agenda of adultery, he joined the movie industry. More specifically, the porn industry. He was only supposed to be working a short time. A full human lifespan then back to hell he goes to control his hoard of imps as a higher demon. After working for only a few years, a woman catches his eyes. She was absolutely gorgeous, these deep curls tangling him and causing him to fall in love. He needed her safe, shifting gears and taking the lead to own and operate the industry in order to keep her safe. He became loyal to this woman, wanting nothing but her, and that made Hell mad. After sneaking out to wed his woman, he was tracked down and made to watch as the demons of his own league killed his wife. From there, he was banished to Earth where he would work as a permanent messenger demon and never made to return back to his place in command down under. He now runs the biggest adult film industry on Earth, spreading sex and sin of all types across the globe. It would be easier if he didn't have his stationed brother constantly on his case though.

╚═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╝

[jolliathan]

===Character Sheet===

Lucamir (Lou Smith)

Artist

╔═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╗

˚｡⋆.Alias/Nicknames: Louie, Angel

˚｡⋆.Age: Visually 40s

˚｡⋆.Nationality: Based in America

˚｡⋆.Height: 6'

˚｡⋆.Weight: < 175lbs

˚｡⋆.Skin: Monochorionic Grey

˚｡⋆.Hair: Black

˚｡⋆.Eyes: Deep Grey

˚｡⋆.Extra Descriptors: Fully monochorionic, all clothes appear apart of his scheme as soon as they are put on

˚｡⋆.Personality: Calm and collected yet can be forceful in this terrifyingly quiet way. Sweet talker. Romantic.

˚｡⋆.Sex: Male

˚｡⋆.Gender: Male

˚｡⋆.Pronouns: He/Him

˚｡⋆.Sexuality: Bicurious

˚｡⋆.Hobbies: Spending money on pretty girls, writing music, reading newspapers and books

✦ ⠂⠂STORY ⠂⠂✦

Lucamir was an angel stationed on Earth to spread the word and propaganda of Heaven. He was born with an agent of hell by the name, Azarion (Ace Smith), who stayed as his clingy brother through his mission despite them being 'born' as adults. Taking on the name Lou Smith, he quickly found a wife and started a career in the music industry. From there he sang about love, light, and being faithful to The Lord. It was a temporary contract, a full human life span doing the dirty work before promotion to Archangel. It would have been easy if he could fight against temptation better. Around his 40 year mark, he grew tired of the boring in and outs of a traditional marriage, instead talking to the younger girls who prepped his performances. After giving in and having an affair, he was banished to Earth, now immortal and serving as a permanent messenger angel. He now works as head of a grand music label, letting the bands he owns take over for his work while he continues to use his easy riches to delve into satin and velvet fantasies. Well, he would have a better time if he didn't have his stationed brother constantly up his ass.

╚═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╝

[jolliathan]

===Character Sheet===

P. Blue

Art by Me!

╔═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╗

˚｡⋆.Alias/Nicknames: Panda, Sunny, Mr. Blue

˚｡⋆.Age: Visually late 30s

˚｡⋆.Nationality: Unknown

˚｡⋆.Height: 6'5

˚｡⋆.Weight: ≤ 150lbs

˚｡⋆.Skin: Suntanned

˚｡⋆.Hair: long straight blonde hair with dark brunette roots

˚｡⋆.Eyes: Unknown

˚｡⋆.Extra Descriptors: Large, Wide, Friendly Smile

˚｡⋆.Personality: Warm and friendly. Everyone's friend and always looking for a fun time.

˚｡⋆.Sex: Unknown

˚｡⋆.Gender: Whatever you see them as

˚｡⋆.Pronouns: Any/All

˚｡⋆.Sexuality: Aro/Ace

˚｡⋆.Hobbies: Tennis, Making Friends, Smiling, Making Music, Night Boat Rides, Dancing

✦ ⠂⠂STORY ⠂⠂✦

P. don't have a story. No P. is just your friend. He enjoys tennis and boating at night. He loves to look at the stars with you and ask you the meaning of life (even though he already knows it). He's a cosmic being comprising entirely of nothing but a smile. Everything a smile provokes. He is a friend, sibling, parent, anything you need him to be. He is warmth and comfort. He loves people and animals of all shapes and sizes (his favorite being a Red Panda). He named himself and responds to just about anything you call him. What does the 'P' in his name mean, you ask? It's entirely unknown.

╚═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╝

[jolliathan]

===Character Sheet===

Oleander Green

Artist

╔═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╗

˚｡⋆.Alias/Nicknames: Ole, 'The Nurseryman'

˚｡⋆.Age: Late 20s

˚｡⋆.Nationality: White American

˚｡⋆.Height: 5'10

˚｡⋆.Weight: >150lbs

˚｡⋆.Skin: Light tone, Farmer's Tan, Freckled

˚｡⋆.Hair: Dyed Purple, Blonde Roots

˚｡⋆.Eyes: Ice Blue

˚｡⋆.Extra Descriptors: Top Surgery Scars covered with Vine and Flower Tattoos, Full Back Tattoo; Collage of flowers with lilies being the top most.

˚｡⋆.Personality: Quiet in movement and voice, mama's boy, obsessive over the things he loves, cries to his flowers.

˚｡⋆.Sex: Female

˚｡⋆.Gender: Male

˚｡⋆.Pronouns: He/Him

˚｡⋆.Sexuality: Lesbian

˚｡⋆.Hobbies: Guardening, Murder

✦ ⠂⠂STORY ⠂⠂✦

TW: Family Death, Murder

Oleander was born in the city to a single mother, Lily, and no known father. Growing up, Oleander was constantly surrounded by his mother's plants, swearing they spoke to him, telling him their needs, and he would supply. He had a tremendous green thumb thanks to this ability. Having no father, Ole was deathly close to his mother, clinging to her for every need and never seeing anyone else as worth his time. Just him, his mother, and his plants. Oleander went to sell fruit and flowers in order to afford a garden in the burbs, then using that garden as a sanctuary and stable form of profit. His plants always thrived, keeping good health, but his mother did not. Around the time Ole was 18, his mother fell ill with and unknown illness. Doctor after doctor, and none could provide an answer. The bills started to add up and Ole wasn't able to sell his product fast enough to meet the demand. During a particularly bad flare-up, late at night, Lily suffered a stroke and passed away. Oleander woke up to his plants talking to him, telling him to bury his mother in the garden, that they would keep her safe. He did as he was told, half of her body above ground and propped like an angel in prayer. His flowers bloomed, fruit ripe and near perfect, and even the grass was greener. He built a shrine around her body to keep her safe from the weather. He tended to her each day, pruning the flowers that grew around her, working his way out in a gentle circle to care for every last one of his only friends. During a particularly bad winter, Ole heard the voices of his sanctuary screaming, demanding care, demanding more bodies to feed from. After all, with Lily gone, no one else mattered to him. From then on, Oleander took the lives of locals, using their bodies to feed his garden, eventually even finding and taking the life of his father before using him as a scarecrow.

╚═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╝

[jolliathan]

===Character Sheet===

Oliver O'Quill

Artist

╔═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╗

˚｡⋆.Alias/Nicknames: Ollie

˚｡⋆.Age: Early 20s

˚｡⋆.Nationality: Irish

˚｡⋆.Height: 5'6

˚｡⋆.Weight: <120lbs

˚｡⋆.Skin: Pale and Freckled

˚｡⋆.Hair: Long, Curly, Firey Red

˚｡⋆.Eyes: Striking Green

˚｡⋆.Extra Descriptors: Cigarette Burn Scars Down Spine

˚｡⋆.Personality: Small, Timid, Often Daydreaming/Disassociating, Eager to Please, Resistant to Help, Gentle, Overly Kind, Small Attitude

˚｡⋆.Sex: Male

˚｡⋆.Gender: Male

˚｡⋆.Pronouns: He/Him

˚｡⋆.Sexuality: Closet Gay, "Not Interested in Marriage"

˚｡⋆.Hobbies: Writing, Poetry, Storytelling, Daydreaming

✦ ⠂⠂STORY ⠂⠂✦

TW: Sexual Assault.

Late 1870s. Oliver was from a decently wealthy family in Ireland. The family halved and moved to the heart of London in search better factory work and opportunities, putting young Oliver in private school after being just a farm boy. Oliver had a talent with writing and literature studies. He often spent his free time writing poems or small narratives of fantastical lands with princesses, dragons, and even great sea-witches. Around the age of 11-12, he was given a tutor for his dwindling Mathematics lettering. The tutor gained a fascination with Oliver and his writing. Oliver's ability to bring a sense of reality into fiction drew the tutor to manipulate Oliver in to writing darker fantasies. Tales of sex, drugs, murder, instead of his previous cheery tales. He did as he was told, not only enjoying the attention and writing sessions, but also feeling as if he had to in order to impress his superiors and be treated as the adult he thought he was. Oliver's grade was not improving, seeing how the learning sessions quickly escalated into something far from Mathematics. Months past and Oliver was now being forced through the acts of his stories, being told things like "How can you describe it if you don't know the feeling?" Even though the acts mimicked those as the sexual ones of his stories, he found himself harmed over and over, eventually destroying his sense of reality and fiction. His brain opted to disappear and imagine his previous, untainted stories whenever he was being abused. He failed out of school, being disowned by his family whom he never told of his abuse. He stuck to the streets of London, bouncing from sex work to sex work since he could hurt the least from it as he daydreams through every client.

╚═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╝

[jolliathan]

===Roleplay Prompt===

Where The Forest Shelters Us

Fandom/Universe:

Original / OCs Only

Genre Tags:

Hurt/Comfort. Found family. Fluff. Angst. Protection. Giving abusers what they deserve. Domestic and Slice of Life.

SFW BELOW CUT

Plot Blurb:

It had been nearly a year since the passing of the Beaumont wife and children. Mother and two sons gone within the blink of an eye. Yet, the bear found himself staying in this small family neighborhood. It was within a nice school district, walking distance to the park. It was all an expecting father ever wanted. Expecting mothers too.

Bern was watching from his living room window, bowl of mid-afternoon cereal in hand, as a woman was unpacking her car. Thing was, she was huge. No, not tall or heavy, just insanely pregnant, and trying to haul heavy boxes. After the cereal was left on the table, the beast of a man ducked out his front door, coming to her aid.

Little did he know, he was bound to get the family he deserved, albeit, ripped from the hands of a man who didn't.

Requesting

1

Number of People:

Character(s):

Bernard Beaumont/Your OC

===Feel Free To DM Me===

[jolliathan]

===Character Sheet===

Bernard Beaumont

Original Art by Me!

╔═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╗

˚｡⋆.Alias/Nicknames: Papa Bear

˚｡⋆.Age: Mid 30s

˚｡⋆.Nationality: American

˚｡⋆.Height: 8'5

˚｡⋆.Weight: >430lbs

˚｡⋆.Skin: Fair, Lots of Body Hair

˚｡⋆.Hair: Deep Brown, Red Undertones

˚｡⋆.Eyes: Golden

˚｡⋆.Extra Descriptors: Tattoo of two bear paws over his heart with his deceased sons' names; Ozzy and Orson

˚｡⋆.Personality: Kind, Loving, Soft Spoken, Curious, Cautious, Adores Children

˚｡⋆.Sex: Male

˚｡⋆.Gender: Male

˚｡⋆.Pronouns: He/Him

˚｡⋆.Sexuality: Straight

˚｡⋆.Hobbies: Babysitting/Fathering/Caretaking, Song-Writing/Producing, Painting, Fishing, Gardening, Cooking/Eating

✦ ⠂⠂STORY ⠂⠂✦

TW: Infant and Family Death

╚═══°˖✧♡✧˖°═══╝

Bernard was a happy werebear, husband, and expecting father during the peak of his music career. His human wife, River, was suffering from a complicated pregnancy, something that had Bern put his music on hold so he could care for her. Bern wanted nothing in the world but to be a father for his future twin boys (Ozzy and Orson), building the nursery himself and carefully organizing the baby clothes that barely met the size of his large hands. During the third trimester, the complications stabilized, Bern taking his wife to his private cabin as a sort of vacation away from the hustle and bustle of life. During a late night of slow dancing, listening to the songs of the crickets, River's water broke. It was a pleasant surprise, Bern immediately and calmly calling for EMS as his wife got cozy back inside. Suddenly, things spiraled out of control. She was growing pale, bleeding heavily and quickly, and with them being so far out, EMS wasn't anywhere near. Bern delivered his babies and struggled to get them to breathe, ultimately them passing away in his arms with his wife crashing soon after. After rounds of desperate CPR, help finally came. It was too late, him losing his entire family in the span of a night. Bern didn't make music for nearly a year, rotting in his home before being pulled out and back into the public light.

[jolliathan]

===Out of Context RP Reply===

Secrets They Don't Want To Keep

Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz

Do you remember that dry bridge?

There was a creek that dried up ages ago, somewhere late in teenhood, cusp of adulthood, but the bridge for it was never torn down. Perhaps it was a just-in-case measure. If the water ever started to flow down it again. It never did. Locals thought it never would. All that's left are these dried river rocks, trash, and memories. Bare feet etching into the smooth stones, water, clean for city's standards, running over top and washing away tears that joined the mess. He was a cry baby, not even remembering exactly what he was crying about, but too deep in the rabbit hole to stop.

I'm there now actually. Sorta silly stumble-upon during another mindless walk. At my studio, but you know how I get.

Sunlight that easily burned his pale skin was obstructed, the shadow gathering attention for a moment before a hand dipped into the water and launched it directly into the boy's face. To say he was pissed was an understatement, immediately turning and tackling the boy behind him in a fit of blazing fury.

This is Patrick by the way. Patrick Stump.

As if the recipient didn't have his number etched into the phone book of his mind. Patrick circled his thumb over the 'send' button, once, twice. But he already hit it some time ago, burying the urge to follow his message with an 'I miss you'. to make everything hurt more.

The man slid his back down the support beam, tearing his bow open and off by the leaf before he became a heap on the rotting wood. The texture of these fingerless, wool gloves became too much to handle, painted nails (like a midnight black) slipping under the lip to wedge them from his skin. They laid, completely discarded, as hands held the top of royal purple clothed knees. No one came up this path anymore, he was alone, the seclusion allowing him comfort in his own tears. Alas, his manhood felt different, opting for belly breathing and gritting teeth hard enough to shatter.

He was far from home, yet home itself felt empty. He needed to leave and come to his studio in LA, yet now that he was here, the air felt like that of a different planet. He was here countless times. Road trips, shows, and whatever. Why did now feel beyond foreign? Post photoshoot for his success yet he felt like he was nothing but a failure from the buckles of his shoes, to the tips of the platinum blonde, feather-like hair on his head. If anything, the dark clouds promising rain seemed well deserved, considering the climate already in his mind.

[jolliathan]

It's here

something special, someone sacred (explicit, m/m, 16 chapters, no ao3 warnings) themes: sugaring, daddy issues, age difference, domestic discipline, healing

A little lost as he approaches graduation, and unsatisfied with the college dating pool, Patrick connects via a sugar dating app with the established, much-older Pete, who turns out to be a little more broken than he seems. Their intense chemistry sparks new levels of intimacy for both, but they’re more alike than they think: their shared impulse to shy away from being deeply known tempts them to self-destruct, even more together than alone. Can raw physicality heal them, or will they find ways to see each other beneath and beyond the skin?

written by @lakemichiganlolita and illustrated by @greatxparty

new chapters released every couple of days!

proudly part of @bandombigbang 2024 - check out the other works!

[jolliathan]

===Out of Context RP Reply===

Moonlit Crossfire

Derek Hale/Sloan Argento (OC)

GORE MENTIONS

Warm, earthy eyes slid down the blood stained frame, catching all he could as she spun to meet him. It was like time slowed, the sway of her hair wafting more of her scent to his nose. He danced his eyes over her before tearing them away to focus on her face, first her mouth, then eyes. His smile faded when she didn't return one, brows twitching a furrow as he dared to step closer with a lifted hand. Before anything could leave his mouth, there came Mr. Hero. Derek had to check his face as it slipped back into a stoic, unreadable pinpoint, molding it into one faintly resembling concern.

"Sir. I know her, I just want to speak to an old friend. To tell her where I've been all this time."

He loaded that shotgun of a claim with blanks, not yet formulating the lies but they would bunch in the back of his mind soon enough. He could coherence her closer with stories, well, he felt like he owed them to her anyway. Even if he had to bend the truth. He put his sunglasses in his inner-jacket pocket before straightening it out, standing tall, strong, protective. Then, the sheriff steered her away to solitude, Derek not willing to take that without a fight.

"Alone? Sloan, there has to be a reason I found you here right? You look beyond destroyed like the day we first met. Did I just happen to find you again at the perfect time?"

Little Deputy spoke up this time, brow inched as high as it could go on his reasonably-sized forehead. "Or the complete wrong time." He muttered, dragging his eyes down Derek, almost knocking him to waver his smile. The cop stood strong, hands on his hips. More like, on his holster. "How did you just 'Happen' to be here anyway, Derek?" Oh the little twat knew him by name, great. Nonetheless, the wolf faked being a fox.

"My apartment needs minor renovations and I can't sleep with the construction noise, came here to sleep off a night. Is that a problem, Deputy? Can't a man get a good night's rest?"

The deputy let out a honk of a laugh, a singular 'Ha!'. "I suppose it's hard to sleep with noise after squatting in the burned remains of your former home for years, all alone." It hit Derek in the gut, knocking the wind from him through his nose. Though, all he did was stand, letting a beat of silence pass as his arms crossed over his chest. You could see the cop's head swell with pride as the wolf quietly uttered a low, dark;

"Exactly. I miss the silence."

[jolliathan]

===Out of context RP Reply===

New Perspective

Brendon Urie/Ryan Ross. Highschool AU.

It was instinctual for the boy to yelp for the fallen comrade of his stolen fry, alas, he was gone and there was nothing he could do. Though, with decent evaluation, Brendon noticed Ryan didn't even have a tray. His dad didn't pay the bill again, did he? B slid his tray over, trying to mask the worry on his face a little too late before being caught off guard by a simple question.

Repressing the urge to ask stupid questions such as "what thing?" while scratching his ass and drooling like a hairy ape, he jetted his eyes around, finally landing back on the box with a breathless "oh." You see, it was a complicated answer. It wasn't exactly the box, perse, but instead the thoughts the box reminded him he already had. Within it's confines held the beginning of forever and the possibilities of today that were, more-or-less, endless. What if one of them moved last year? What if they died? What if they merely stopped being friends? Would they have still found the box? Would Brendon still have feelings for his friend? The box wasn't haunting him. It was Ryan.

"I love you."

And that time his mouth let it out. Letting it sit in the air of nostalgic smells. Wet dirt and metal from the benches. He could hear in the back of his mind the other freshmen giggling and running around while it was still a functional field with a dysfunctional drainage system. Brendon would see Ryan, not in his clothes now, but instead in a black hoodie and jeans, hair crudely cut and these horrific Monster Energy Eye-Bags™. His face was round, sleeves rolled up to show bruised arms. It was the man Brendon adored most and he most definitely owed him an explanation for his little emotional burst but instead of following up with something... Anything..

"I love you."

And his voice died hard like a martyr for his trembling heart.

[jolliathan]

===RP REQUEST===

I'm Out of My Mind

Edit by me!:3

Fandom/Universe:

Bandom, Panic! at The Disco, and The Smurfs (hear me out)

Ready to Go MV

Genre Tags:

HEAR ME OUT. A slow romance sorta deal. Mutual understanding. Whimsical fantasy. Brendon treats Smurfette like an actual woman and Smurfette treats Brendon like an actual man and enjoys his magic. Oh yeah Brendon is an amateur magician. Not the most serious but it can be really cute.

SFW BELOW CUT

Plot Blurb:

Another day, another show. Don't get him wrong, Brendon adores magic. He loves the slight of hand and illusion, he even grew up on magical stories and truly believed in that type of mystic ability. It's just, the ladies did not. He wasn't some popular band guy. Good lookin, for sure, but finding a girl into his craft and not just his face was difficult. Most found it boring. Fake laughs and playing footsy or twirling his bow when he just wasn't down for that. None of it. He lived for the "oo"s and "aa"s of a well immersed audience. His love language was performing. So, just his luck when, not only did he find a stone with genuine paranormal abilities, it came with a very pretty girl attached who did enjoy his talent. Albeit... Blue and a little on the short side.

Requesting

Number of People:

1

Character(s):

Brendon Urie (Me)

Smurfette (You)

(Shipped)

Other characters from both medias, we can share.

Feel Free to DM Me!

[jolliathan]

Hello! I'm Jolly!

I am an advanced literate writer/roleplayer!

Below is my list of;

Boundaries + Rules!

Up-to-Date Fandoms List!

Original Character List!

Contact Me + Other Sites!

RP Server is open to people who just want to read old/current plots like fanfiction and hang out with people of similar interests! No RP Necessary!

=========================

Boundaries + Rules!

=========================

Adults Only! (18+) - I am 18+, you must be as well! No exceptions, even for SFW plots. I love to be close friends with all my partners and that sadly can't happen if you are a minor.

Communicating! - I am extremely patient! Leave me on read for months and I'm chill as long as there's communication! Just keep me posted on; Pauses, Triggers, and Full Stops! Comfort is #1.

Burn Out! - Sometimes I lose interest in a RP for a short while or become too overwhelmed to reply. Never take it personally, it's 99% a 'Me' thing and I may even return to the RP after some time.

Where to RP! - All RPs will held in my personal Discord Server! This way everything is in one place and you may read my old RPs! We will have private DMs for plotting and channels for writing!

Writing Styles! - I personally am advanced lit with mirror length, or depending on current burnout status. I prefer to not do one-liners and especially asterisk ( * action * ) roleplay. I do not personally use Tupper, but it is open to you.

Dead Dove! - Writing is art and art can be used to cope with trauma. If you are seeking a plot with darker themes, I am a safe person to talk to. Everything is kept safe with me, even if I decline to personally roleplay it.

=========================

Fandom List!

=========================

Original Character 🍬

Bandom / RPF

Creepypasta

DC / Marvel

Doctor Who

Don't Starve

Eddworld

The Elder Scrolls

Five Nights at Freddy's

Game of Thrones / House of The Dragon

Good Omens

Hannibal

Harry Potter

Jekyll & Hyde / The Glass Scientists

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

The Legend of Zelda

My Little Pony

Mythology/Hades/HadesTown/Epic

Ouran High School Host Club

SallyFace

Sonic The Hedgehog

Squid Game

Teen Wolf

Twilight Saga

🍬 = Current Hyperfixation

EXAMPLE = Not Currently Interested

=========================

Original Character List!

=========================

Bernard Beaumont

Oliver O'Quill

Oleander Green

P. Blue

Lucamir (Lou Smith)

Azarion (Ace Smith)

=========================

Contact Me + Other Sites!

=========================

DMs: Always Open!

Discord: Jolliathan

RP Server: Laureate Masque Circus

Ao3: Jolliathan