#and eventually my ocs who i like to throw into various different games so of course I put them into three houses

[ashes-of-ailell]

I have been working on more fe3h x acnh stuff btw! apologies for the little break since the last one, was volunteering at a con this weekend so I've been quite tired and taking it easy today.

next one should be up later on - it's the Ashe rabbit! I gave him a little cropped hoodie and I think he looks rather adorable, if I do say so myself. I hope y'all like it when I post it :3

[northwest-cryptid]

Since people seem to have a want for OC and Sona stuff, I shall drop it below the cut for anyone who wants that stuff.

I think the big thing I gotta start off with is saying that for me, Sona and OC are two different things; every Sona is of course an OC, but not every OC is a Sona.

So for the sake of explanation I personally define it as such (and if you define it differently, that's perfectly fine I'm just saying this is how I personally define it for the sake of explanation). An OC is simply an Original Character/Creation, it's a work that comes from myself and not an outside influence such as a video game, tv show, or other media. While a Sona is a "Personification" or a "Persona" of a thing, typically representative of myself, but sometimes it could be of an aesthetic, a concept, or a genre. An example of this would be that I used to have various Sonas for the different styles of music I made (which was a trend back in the day god I feel old saying that).

Okay now to actually get into the stuff people actually came here for. Kicking things off with Sonas I use to represent myself in various media we have first on the list:

Velvet/VelvetSoul

Velvet has been and continues to be one of my main Sonas and a representation of myself that I use for things like VRC, while the outfits are generally in need of a lot of work (they're pretty basic with a very simple pixelation effect thrown on to give off that dreamcast vibe) the more defining features of their hair/eyes and such are based heavily on my OCs from various media and D&D games. Note that yes these are both intended to be the same character, I'm genderfluid as hell and appreciate being able to outwardly present as a more masculine or feminine design at times. The beanie that masculine Velvet wears is a sort of callback to a beanie I wear a lot IRL because it gives me a place to display my collection of pins, I will eventually update it accordingly however for the time being it works just fine.

For the spooky season I gave Velvet a silly ghost appearance where I decided to take some inspiration from the Jet Set Radio aesthetic of big ol' feet and slightly larger hands, I've always enjoyed the concept of playing around with anatomy in a stylized fashion, I however once again didn't go too hard on the outfit since I'm honestly still working on these characters and have a ways to go before I'm going to be happy with them. I however dropped the pixel look here that we see on the original Velvet design:

While some may argue that this isn't recognizably the same character, I would argue that variety is the spice of life and I am fucking SPICY.

I did do a little work on facial expressions to make sure they didn't horribly disfigure the face which was fun

Another Sona often used to represent myself, and one that I hold dear to me is Akito/Aki, probably the one I'm best known for:

I really did my best to throw more Native inspiration at this lad, and honestly I still have a long ways to go on them. They as well have a feminine design that looks wildly different I don't know why I'm like this but I enjoy it:

and as per usual I'm not 100% happy with how they came out so I'm gonna keep working on them because I love my dumb blorbos but I can never stop "improving" the designs lol.

I think my main issue with the current design for Akito is that the artist who drew the VERY FIRST ever commissioned piece of art for Akito did such a good job and no one has been able to capture the same vibe this sketch has this dude did it for like $5 and I gave him such a big tip because I was so annoyed that he was underselling his work because HOLY SHIT LOOK AT THIS and you want to know the worst part? I got blocked out of my twitter account recently and as I'm unable to access my twitter account I literally do not know what the artist changed his handle to though I remember him changing it before I got locked out, so I literally have no idea what the hell he's going by and I really want to give him a proper shoutout so I'm absolutely going to figure it out because he deserves credit for this piece to the point I'm salty he didn't like, sign it or anything.

This is art that never gets seen and it kills me because for those who don't know, the original design concept for Akito was a sort of mix of 3 things, Kallian (Xenoblade), Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy), and general Space/Owl motifs given that the general concept design philosophy behind Akito was the idea that, Hihankaga The Owl Maker, a Lakota deity who judged Nagi on their way to the afterlife; was essentially retiring and had placed Akito in her place as the new Owl Maker. My main idea behind that was that people would come to the Owl Maker and tell her their life story the same way I was doing challenge runs in games that would typically follow a character (such as Chester from my Kenshi playthrough) and thematically it would be a sort of "retelling of their life" I was originally, and might still do this mind you; going to have a website dedicated to a sort of "Hall of Fame" where I would write a short bio for each character who's major arc has been completed on the streams and determine if they had lived a life fit for being worthy of an afterlife or whether I'd deemed them unworthy and cast them into the abyss. So basically Akito was meant to be this sort of cosmic owl spirit with wings and stars and the whole nine yards, but still be a more comfortable/easy going sort of individual. The key concept behind Akito as The Owl Maker was simply that Akito never wanted to cast spirits into the abyss so they specifically did everything they could to help people live a fulfilling life just so they could rightfully deem them worthy of their afterlife. Hence why I love the idea of them just wearing really casual clothes and like, a comfy scarf, also I like scarves. The red on the scarf is not just a gentle nod to the color of the four directions but also to the fact Native people are often referred to as "red skins" and generally when it comes to Native imagery such as the symbol for MMIW it's done in red. As a quick aside, if you don't know MMIW is for "Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women" and if you ever seen Akito wearing a red hand-print over their mouth, it's because of this:

(I believe the design on the right was created by Despertar1111 but don't quote me on that seeing as the only place I could find a credit for the image was fucking redbubble but I digress)

The thing no one talks about when it comes to doing Vtuber stuff is the fact that if you're poorer and you save up like $400+ for a model and rigging you'll still get artists who ignore half your design and riggers who generally speaking can't rig full motion so do your research and don't settle on a design/rig that's sub par, I know this now and going forward I'm likely going to make sure the artists and riggers I work with are quality, I already know my next model will be rigged by none other than Neapolitanrime and as for my artist of choice I have no idea because I don't even have the money to consider that sort of thing yet but SOME DAY!

MOVING ON!

One of my OCs and an old OLD Sona for my sort of Grunge Punk music days was such an edgy lad, I'm very like; closet edgelord but you know I mostly keep it to myself; that being said this dude is named Xploit and I love him to death:

General design philosophy here was very grungey street punk vibes, I did in fact slap the same exact beanie that Velvet wears on him but like again clothing is very placeholder with these and basically meant to give a general vibe. Xploit was originally made after my old band and I went downtown and saw some graffiti that was talking about the exploitation of lower class workers where the bottom of the letters were shaped like knives all pointed at a singular entity, likely the laborer in question. I ran with that design to create the logo for Xploit that mirrors his 3 fangs (middle tooth and side fangs) with the X, the L and I, and the T in his name.

Also because I'm 3edgy5u I made his eyes X's (I just thought it looked neat)

I still have a lot of work to do on the shading since I'm working with very simplified 3D model making software instead of making models from scratch in something like Blender like I should be doing to have as much control over it as I want to. That being said it's meant to give an illusion that he has no facial features such as nose/mouth until otherwise speaking, at which point his fangs are meant to be prominent. Everything about his outline from his eyes to his hair is intended to be extremely sketchy and rough.

and because I have a soft spot for making even my edgier characters silly little guys, I made it so when he gets surprised his eyes bubble up.

Since I know there's some controversy regarding characters with bandages and the like I'd like to quickly make mention that none of the bandages worn by my characters are ever intended to suggest self harm.

Admittedly this is far from the complete roster, but we're eliminating anyone/anything that sprung up from games (I do consider them OCs to a degree but I understand they are influenced by the media they were created from/in and I don't feel like that should be necessarily included on a list of original characters that I specifically defined as "not being from media") and these are the ones I've been working on most recently so they're more in the forefront of my mind; I have plenty more for things ranging from music Sonas to just various OCs I've used for D&D and the like. That being said I'll likely throw together another one of these for the other OCs when I have more time/I'm not as busy.

You can have these drawings though:

Akito and Nazo who is @the-sum-of-ones-parts' sona. They are also the one who drew this. They also drew this of Nazo and Velvet

They also drew Akito in a dress (they are giving Melia vibes and I'm all for it.)

and they ALSO drew Akito and Nazo for the Outlast 2 stream we did.

Note that Nazo is a shapeshifter.

Big shout out to @the-sum-of-ones-parts for drawing so many of my dumb OCs/Sonas (like you guys don't understand there is more but I'm trying to not make this post 10 miles long)

THAT BEING SAID I HAVE A BUNCH OF DUMB MEMES OF AKITO YOU CAN HAVE (if you can't tell Akito is my most public OC)

If you have any questions I probably have answers (hopefully) so ask away my friend.

[ettawritesnstudies]

Hyperspecific Poll Time

Click under the "read more" to learn about the character you picked! And feel free to send me an ask if you'd like to learn more about any of them! I'm turning this into a writeblr tag game too so if you want to join in on this, I'm tagging @abalonetea and @ashen-crest and @theroseempress

Option 1: Luca Laine

"It was far too lovely a day for a riot, but not even the warm morning sun or the light breeze flapping the trader's multicolored tents could keep Luca from taking advantage of the fact that there was, in fact, a riot."

The protagonist of Storge! He's a desperate kid who picks up people's trash and tries to salvage it into useful stuff for his family, but when he dares to steal a magical charm from the avian, Acheran, he's too much of a paragon to get away with it. His honestly earns him a job from the reserved shopkeeper and they end up becoming solid friends who look out for each other when their city devolves into a civil war.

Option 2: Grace Laine

"I could have killed you by now if I wanted to. "Uh yeah, but you didn't."

Luca's younger sister! As a powerful energy sink, this kid can absorb magical energy and use it to bolster her own stamina and healing. This also means she can't use magic to fight, and so her father taught her martial arts at a very young age. As a result, this 14 year old menace is fully convinced she's indestructible and sasses assassins and terrorists with absolutely 0 negative consequences whatsoever /sarcastic

Option 3: Enne Laine

Luca and Grace's older sister! Despite being blind, she's the only sibling with common sense or self-preservation. With a lockbox memory and a lifetime of strategic thinking, she's extremely good at getting her way. While her sister is busy provoking the assassins and terrorists and keeping them distracted, she's arguing her way to freedom and sabotaging them on the way out.

Option 4: Hannah Teagan

When her younger sister, Cecelia, goes missing and all signs point to abduction by fae, Hannah promptly storms into the woods behind their house to bring her sister home. She gets more than she bargains for in the Seelie and Unseelie courts, and its up to her to find a way out of their maze and back to the world she knows.

Option 5: Cecelia Teagan

(this one's a spoiler :3)

Option 6: Min Larua (aka Miragel aka Maxk aka Visige aka Mentira)

A changeling who wants to become the Liege of Thieves. They use their various alter egos to set up a "crime ring" all reporting back to their leader Larua to make it seem like they have a stronghold on the criminal underworld in their city. They eventually recruit a real team, none of which have no idea that their rival, ally, and boss are all the same person.

Option 7: Both Tess Teagan and Weswin

(The first one's a spoiler as well.) Weswin is cursed to have a constantly shifting appearance that he can't control, meaning its impossible for him to maintain an identity or make friends. He eventually forgot his name after years of coming up with different constantly changing personas, and so he eventually settled on calling himself after the "west wind" which he follows in his wanderings.

Option 8: Sora Shiraishi

When you suppress your abilities out of fear for years, it can be terrifying when they start to forcefully manifest themselves and you don't know how to recognize them. Especially when you think you're hallucinating strange sounds and objects moving around, even though it's just the friendly spirit that your family's soul is bonded to, trying to get your attention. She only learned much later that she was experiencing a normal connection to the spirit world, and not losing her mind.

Option 9: Madelyn

Originally a very powerful mage, Madelyn lost her magic when her friend Alric betrayed and attacked her with a Relic. As she learns how to use magic from point 0 all over again, she logs her progress in her journal, and eventually learns how to cast spells from the ink and written words, binding her soul to it and becoming a Relic in her own right. It's a good thing her diary is extremely difficult to destroy as a result, but she refuses to risk losing her magic again. It wouldn't physically harm her, but she still might die of embarrassment if anyone ever read it.

Option 10: Seth

The child of high ranking dignitaries in Maaren, Seth was trained for the noble political life from the moment he learned how to talk. He resented this at first, not really knowing what he wanted to do with his life, but not wanting to be associated with his family's legacy. But after his family's power collapses and he escapes Maaren as a refugee, he realizes he's still really good at politics and rallying people behind a common cause, and uses his training as a force for good in the world.

[beelspillowpet]

If your requests are open - it says they are but I always like to double check- could you do the OM brothers with a F!Mc that starts dating a girl from RAD ? I want pretty demon lady ... please devs make a female option.... 😳😳😳😳😳 if the relationship doesn’t work out that’s fine! I’m just simping for women

Requests will most likely always be open because I can never get enough of reading about these ideas and stuff... IDK I’m obsessed lol.

More lesbian MC stuff.... feeding me lately, Mira. Because I’m impulsive af I am now casually inserting an OC how everyone will eventually get to know better~... DW. She’s mostly nice.

Introducing, The Manipulator! Or as you may call her, Liza!

She has a bit of history with the boys, but nothing intimate. Without further ado, let’s get into the HCs.

F!MC Dates a Demon Girl from RAD

Lucifer is the first one trying to put a stop to this. How the fuck- why the fuck- what the fuck? When did you even get in contact with another demon? You were meant to be monitored 24/7 while out, especially at RAD. Did Mammon or any of his other younger brothers leave you unattended for that long!?

Not only does he, and most of his brothers, not like Liza, but they’re also incredibly jealous. It’s not like they’re owed anything, but...

Really? Of all the demons in this realm you’d pick, it’d be her? Now sure, none of them are perfect... Maybe with exception to Asmo with how often he cries about it, but...

Okay so maybe the pickings aren’t that great. They’re all guys and... maybe you just want to spice things up with a girl? They can understand that. I mean they clearly all like you in some shape or form.

Satan tries to understand her. They both have issues to work through. Serious ones. Ones regarding their situation around birth. He’s meant to be a constantly angry person, but he doesn’t want to seem that way. Liza is seen as someone who only lies, cheats, and manipulates to get what she wants... but Satan can see that’s not all she is. He’s suspicious of her, but doesn’t question it too much.

Belphie, just like Lucifer, is not having it, though. Liza? Really? If he weren’t trying to be respectful of your choices, he’d immediately list every reason why you shouldn’t have picked her. She’s manipulative- worse than him- she’s a liar, and she’s really mean. There were rumors she was created to be the exact opposite of Asmo, even.

But alas, they all keep their mouths shut. Life is good for you here in the Devildom, and who are they to stampede on that?

Things with Liza are actually great too. She takes you out almost daily, and while she can’t spend the night in the HoL for... various reasons... she visits when she can. Usually baring a gift.

She brings food or little plushies most of the time. Eventually she starts upgrading to gifts that last longer in your room. She takes to even bringing over beautiful Galaxy Roses just so you have something to have from her.

Don’t think your clothes are safe either. Nuh-uh. She’s taking your sweatpants, hoodies, jackets- all of it. Sometimes she gives them back. Most of the time she doesn’t. Your stuff is now her stuff. And her stuff is still hers but... she’ll share. :)

Because the guys clearly aren’t a fan of her, you two spend the majority of your time out together. Liza promises Lucifer that she’ll take good care of you. He doesn’t believe it, and thinks she’s plotting something, but realistically, she’s in love. Truly in love. Father may have made her differently from Asmo, but he gave her the ability to love and treat what’s hers properly.

Hell, there was a time when some demon was threatening your life over something. Probably a stupid thing, like bumping into them while walking. Before either of you could even swing, she had the demon in a headlock, threatening to snap their neck if they didn’t get down on their knees and apologize to you. You’d never been so moved in your life.

Speaking of her strength; it is considerable. She catches Beel at the gym often- in fact, he’s caught you both at the gym a few times before. He thinks its... a bit awkward. He and Liza hada  few conversations, and she was nothing but considerate to him. But something always felt off. Like she was hiding something.

While respectful and willing to listen, Liza isn’t too keen on being... soft? She doesn’t mind vanilla, but I mean... You’re her little bunny. Are you gonna upgrade to Rope Bunny or what?

She is one of those types of people who are very straight forward. If you have a problem, she works to find a solution instead of outright comforting you right then and there. She often forgets there’s an emotional side to tend to, rather than a logical one. She does try to fit in the comforting afterwards, offering a hug and cradling you in her arms. She shushes you and kisses the top of your head, hoping that she’s doing it right.

As for having space...? Yeah, you can have it. Just ask. She doesn’t mind it. Honestly just tell her anything and she’d be willing tot ry and make an adjustment. Keyword is try.

She’s not really known love for thousands of years. True love anyways. It’s a work in progress, but if you tell her you don’t like one thing, she’ll try to do the exact opposite. If you tell her you need some time alone, she won’t throw a fit. Just huffs a little before leaving.

She’s a biiiig texter. Like... your phone will be blowing up. Morning texts every day without failure. They’re unique too, not a copy/paste. Way too many emojis.

Good🐣morning🌅 My MC💖🔥! I hope 🙏🏿 you had a great 👍🏿 sleep 😴. Here’s to a ✨ really great👌🏿day, 🏞️ my 💗 beautiful❤️incredible🌟love! I left you 🥺 a special bento 🍱 this morning! Please enjoy it! 💝💟

She’s honestly not perfect. She’s sometimes too clingy, and other times she’s a bit aggressive. She’ll ramble on about the guys, forgetting you live with them and know them so well. They’re like family to you, and you’re actively bad-talking some of them. Especially Lucifer. She’s pretty defensive about it too if you try to tell her to cut it out.

“MC... You have no idea how much suffering I’ve been through because of them. They’re cool people and all but... I can’t always been friendly about them, ya’know?”

She tries though. Kind of. The only one she can kind of have a conversation with is Satan. Maybe Beel ona  good day.

Oh and competitive... don’t play games with her, please. She’ll get pissed off and sabotage everyone. No one is safe from her when she plays CLUE or Scrabble. She’s a lil’ dorky.

Having a pact with her isn’t that much of a big deal, really? She sort of... offers it to you one day. Like “Hey, so when are we gonna make that pact?” And then cringes at herself because she could have done so much better.

Like she sort of sees pacts as an engagement. Is she moving too fast? That’s up to you. But please make a pact with her. She loves you, MC. She wants to protect and hold and love...

Aside from all this, when you do go back to the human world, she’s right there at the portal giving you a hug and kiss goodbye. She doesn’t shed a single tear. At least not in front of you. When you are gone though, she’s much more angry and irritated. She’s snappy with the people around her, and she’s hurting because she never realized how dependant on you she was.

She needed you to feel like she was normal. Like she was excepted. It’s not like you’re gone forever, but you won’t be back in.... who knows how long?

You’re allowed to summon her whenever, at least. But just... obviously not as often, because getting back home can be annoying. Also because Lucifer is usually there, scolding her about “heading out without letting someone know.” As if she has much of a say. She usually doesn’t, with him talking so much. The bastard.

All in all, with Liza she is a girl who has your back. A bit much at times, but who doesn’t like a bit of excitement in their lives? She wants you to be able to understand her struggles, but it’s not her place to even tell her own story anymore. She just wants to forget, move on, and be with you. So please. Please stay in the Devildom a bit longer, next time...?

[nadiaportia]

Ximena Rubalcaba

art by magician-of-the-lantern

The disgraced exile with a past she’d rather keep hidden.

Other bios: Sayelle | Deirdra | Heloisa | Cibela

Full name: Ximena María Magdalena de Rubalcaba y Saavedra

Meaning of name: 

Ximena: Basque variant of Simone, meaning “one who has heard”

María Magdalena: Spanish variant of Mary Magdalene, derived of “of Magdala”, a village whose name means “tower” in Old Hebrew

Family: 

Heloisa and Cibela de Rubalcaba: Ximena’s elder sisters, Heloisa by 6 and Cibela by 12 years. In her youth and early adulthood, due to being closer in age she spent more time with Heloisa than with Cibela, to whom she did look up though as a role model as well as Cibela being more introverted like her in contrast to the very extroverted Heloisa. Cibela was mostly absent during her childhood, whereas she and Heloisa spent most of their free time, and tutor-free time together.

Marisol de Rubalcaba (deceased): Her mother and the former Marquesa de Rubalcaba. Having immense favouritism for her firstborn, Marisol was rather distant towards her younger daughters but would try to be an affectionate mother towards them.

Valentín Saavedra (deceased): Ximena’s late father and a sea-faring merchant prince from the higher Cartagense bourgeoisie. Like his wife, Valentín favored his eldest daughter yet tried to encourage all of his daughters’ ambitions and work. Ximena is said to be similar to him in terms of personality.

Esmerelda de Rubalcaba: The matriarch in-all-but-name of the Rubalcaba family, Marisol’s older sister and Ximena’s aunt. Esmerelda is arguably the most central maternal figure in her life, even more than her own mother, and her primary tutor. She was the one who recognized Ximena’s affinity for magic and gave her vital support when she entered the Magician’s Guild.

Agustín de Rubalcaba: Esmerelda’s only son and Ximena’s cousin. A diplomat that wasn’t under his mother’s wing unlike his cousins, he is very affectionate towards Ximena and fulfills the role of an older brother for her as well as being her only connection to her family after her exile.

Segismundo: Ximena’s familiar whom she found in the rainforests of Northern Calpacia sometime after her exile as a hatchling and nursed him back to health. Their connection is deep and he is both trusting and protective of her.

Others: Constanza de Rubalcaba (maternal grand-mother, deceased), Cristobal de Rubalcaba (maternal uncle, deceased), Máximo de Otxoa (maternal grand-father, deceased), Jaime Saavedra (paternal uncle), Genoveva Saavedra (paternal aunt), Dulcinea Saavedra (paternal grand-mother, deceased), Leonardo Buendía (paternal grand-father), Catalina Saavedra (paternal grand-aunt), Aníbal Heßling de Cordovero (brother-in-law)

Nicknames: Xime (used by both friends and lovers), Ximenita (used by family, especially since she is the youngest among her generation), Marilena (exclusively used by her mother and her aunt)

Favourite meal: Tamales de pollo

Favourite drink: Cartagense liquor

Favourite flower: White Plumeria

Favourite color: Cerulean

Birthday: 20th of November

Age: 37 during the events of the game

Zodiac: Scorpio

MBTI: INTP

Patron Arcana: Death and the King of Cups

Upright: Death reaps that which has run its course, allowing new life to grow in the space left behind.

Reversed: Death turns his back on his duty, allowing things to fester and rot in his negligence.

Upright: The King of Cups is generous and compassionate, yet never allows his emotions to overwhelm his sense.

Reversed:  The King of Cups manipulates the emotions of others callously, twisting them to fit his own agenda.

Gender: Cis female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Height: 1,65 m // 5′4″

Appearance:

Ximena is of rather slender build. Her skin is medium brown with a warm undertone and she has a round face with a rounded chin. She has a beauty mark underneath the outer corner of her left eye and an upturned nose with a low bridge. Her eyes are a color similar to dark honey and she has full lips. Her eyebrows are thick and dark, groomed but not thinned, and she has bags underneath her eyes. Her black hair is long and curly with the occasional grey hair, especially near her temples. 

She usually wears golden hoop earrings and several golden rings on her fingers. She wears a bit of eyeliner and darkened lipstick.

She gives off the impression of being rather serene and after her exile purposely tries to change the way she spoke and held herself in order to appear less like an aristocrat and more like a commoner.

Visual Inspirations: Tessa Thompson and America Ferrera

Languages spoken: Calpacian, Prakran, Firenti, Karnasso, Galbradan, Hjallen, Nopali, Nevivish, Venterran, Oriolà, Zadithi and the Common Tongue

Magical abilities:

due to the Cartagense Magician’s Guild being rather pragmatic, she is not as versatile in her skills but honed those that she is good at so well that it makes her a master in the area

high intuition and good knowledge of people, to the point that she can feel when someone is lying to her

very perceptive and aware of her surroundings

fire-based offensive magic; used to replace her profound lack of physical combat skills

Love interests:

Out of the Main 6, while I mostly ship her with Lucio (since I am rewriting his route with her as the primary main character) and Asra (her ex), her dynamics with Nadia and Portia could leave the possibility for romance open.

Isidora: An OC of mine who was once very close friends with Xime as well as colleagues on whom she had eventually not unrequited feelings.

In general, like with most of my characters; if they’re compatible sexuality- as well as personality-wise, feel free to ship them with your OCs or MCs! Hit me up with a message and we can discuss the details! 

Backstory: 

Born into the influential aristocratic Rubalcaba family based in Cartagenth, the capital of the Calpacian Empire in the West, Ximena received an extensive education and since she had the most affinity to magic within her family, a vast tutoring in magic while her sisters were put on other carreer tracks. The Rubalcabas have had a presence ever since the founding of Cartagenth thanks to Fairuza, one of the city’s original founders, and then with Xochitl I., who was rumored to be the primary force behind the union of various kingdoms into what became Calpacia. They have centuries long history of being close to Calpacia’s sovereign, the Zaan, and involvement in politics, the military and on very rare occasions the Magician’s Guild of Cartagenth, where Ximena was meant to eventually become Head of the Guild and a vital instrument in the plans her aunt Esmerelda had for her, her sisters and the fate of all of Calpacia.

Mostly due to their riches, privilege and upbringing, the climate in Ximena’s family was a rather toxic one, with a centuries-old legacy hanging over them like a Damocles sword and envy, entitlement, jealously, sabotage and power struggles running rampant among them. Esmerelda’s desire to cement her family’s position and ensure their survival in the cut-throat environment in the Cartagense court as well as wanting to function as the driving force behind the pillars of powers saw her mercilessly using her family and to see them as little more than pawns to be utilized to achieve the desired goal. 

Being maneuvered like a puppet made Ximena resent her family; her sisters for refusing to lean against it or even relishing in it, her parents for tolerating this and her aunt for being a manipulative force of nature. The straw that broke the camel’s back occurred weeks before her coronation as Head of the Guild where a vision came to her during a reading and showed how she would use her magic and that of the Guild to help in fighting a total war against everyone who refused to kneel to Cartagense’s power, resulting in the deaths of countless people - and herself as one of those who were supposed to carry on this blood-stained legacy. The refusal to partake in such future atrocities and the secret reveal of plans by the War Council to actually provoke a conflict and throw the country into total warfare caused Ximena to have her status as noblewoman taken from her and be banished from Cartagenth… or clean up her act, beg for forgiveness and mercy from her family and have the chance to correct her mistakes. That choice presented by her aunt in a final confrontation was refused and so Ximena, once a lady, now a nobody, fled Cartagenth.

Having to pretend to be a commoner was difficult at first but soon became a necessity, as well as having to adopt a different identity to make it beyond the Calpacian borders. Meeting her familiar and having someone in whom to confide absolutely everything was a much needed outlet for her, and some years her only constant companions were Segismundo, for whom she would’ve laid down her life, and the fear of being discovered by Calpacian spies even outside of the empire. She met Asra when contemplating to escape to Hjalle and from there on to the eastern countries beyond Nevivon and continue to live her life in anonymity, but decided to return with him to Vesuvia, a city of which she knew Calpacia fostered no diplomatic relations with. Her relationship with Asra at some point transcended mere friendship but even when that ended, they always remained amicable with each other and arguably the most important person in each other’s lives. The building in which Asra and she eventually opened as their ship was a gift from Agustín who was the only person from her old life Ximena ever contacted through magical and untraceable means. In Vesuvia, she also met magician and professional medium Sayelle bint Zahir from the city state of Bizatena at the Eastern Coast, and another exile from their respective home country, Deirdra Margalit of Calpacia’s neighboring kingdom Oriol.

She died from the Red Plague at the age of 34 while trying help Julian, with whom she had common friends, to find a cure for the illness that had already claimed thousands within the city. The efforts of those close to her did little in preventing her passing, and yet she woke up a year later with no memory of her previous life, her friends and the bond to her familiar being severed beyond repair.

More art:

feat. Heloisa by @missrabbitart​ | full post

feat. Lucio by @cherrygirl666​ | full post including the uncut nsfw version

[spinninginthespiral]

since i’m busy atm, here’s the current concepts of my toontown ocs so far with nhung being the only one with a name so far LMAO under the cut!

as their designs are planned to be human ocs for an original story about vietnamese-american espers i have, it’s likely there’ll be this running motif that the “good guys” are more likely to be girls w vietnamese names while the “bad guys” are more likely to be boys w white/western names too atm

Toons

🎲 (Toontown Central): Nhung runs Jest for Laughs down at Loopy Lane, but messes around and plays tricks on everyone more often; she has great pride in her skills like taking risks in any situation, which help earn a lot of jellybeans and notoriety for her. While she has intentions to keep things happy around Toontown, they’re more out of self-interest with just causing mischief for the fun of it.

Her design is based on the dice game bầu cua tôm cá, the spotted sika deer in the game (not to mention antler velvet is a thing in traditional medicine), and red velvet cake. Specializes in throw and/or drop gags, taking a gamble with their accuracy rates for strong attacks like her dice rolls.

🌊 (Donald’s Dock): A Toon who spends her time swimming and fishing among the currents of Donald’s Dock, she has practically become one with the water itself, adaptable to gracefully flow along with any situation to sweeping into thunderous, freezing fury when necessary. Ironically, she can seem very rigid and nervous when she’s out of her comfort zone (both metaphorically and literally) experiencing something new like a fish out of water.

Her design would either be based on Vietnamese water puppetry, beautiful fashion like this dress based on the Trần dynasty, and/or sailors and fishermen. Specializes in squirt gags as she thrives in sources of water and practically has hydrokinesis.

💐 (Daisy Gardens): A hardworking gardener cultivating plants around Toontown, she enjoys growing various plants to help the world’s atmosphere and anyone in need of some organic gags or fruits to have enough energy for the day. While she does sell her grown products to everyone, she always maintains affordable prices with the main goal to fairly distribute and trade stuff (she has to use the same jellybeans she earns to plant for her gardening after all gdjhfdj)!

Her design would be based on agricultural aspects of Vietnam, such as farming attire, traditional flowers and fruits, etc. Specializes in toon-up gags as her green thumb has helped flowers, organic gag trees, and Toons flourish alike.

🎵 (Minnie’s Melodyland): A prodigy in the musical arts, this Toon is invested in honing her skills to conduct and play songs powerful enough to bring forth any emotion she wishes. While she likes using her instruments to revive the Laff in fellow Toons with her gardening friend, she also has a hidden side of screaming ear-wrenching nightmares to make cogs explode instantaneously.

Her design would be based on musical instruments (I’m personally debating on whether to focus on modern western instruments, traditional Vietnamese instruments, or both), along with possibly including singing like karaoke, especially as that’s an activity done with friends! Specializes in sound gags, as she’s always ready to let loose and unleash powerful death metal explosions.

⛸️ (The Brrrgh): A strong contender in the local ice skating competitions, this Toon enjoys friendly competition and motivating herself and her friends to always improve. She admires her friend from Donald’s Dock the most in particular, astounded at her graceful aquatic talents practically gliding on the water surface without the need of skates or ice at all.

Her design would be based on snowy aesthetics, and I’m thinking of leaning mostly into the ice skating side of things... Specializes in lure gags, as they’re combined with her skating to show off hypnotic performances impossible to look away from.

✒️ (Donald’s Dreamland): A fantasizing Toon who runs Visible Ink down at Loopy Lane with Nhung for fun, she spends more time at her residence in Donald’s Dreamland (day)dreaming and writing in her dream diary with the sparkling pens in her possession. Loves sleeping to the soothing songs of her musical friend, but also respects and fears her skills in playing and screaming echos that can be heard across all of Toontown.

Her design would be based on dream diaries and ink, and may include toys as well. Specializes in trap gags, as they’re scattered around like toys that haven’t been cleaned up before bedtime, along with the fact the traps are effective without alarming sound gags interrupting her slumber along with the cogs’s as well.

Cogs

📞: A Telemarketer who frequents the streets and phone lines across Toontown, he carries a self-confident attitude talking to anyone and everyone to buy/invest in whatever Totally Reliable And Actually Existing Product he’s “selling” or just listen to him in general. However, Nhung is the only one who constantly disregards and makes fun of his schpiels with a bantering attitude instead, and thus annoys him to no end.

🌱: During an invasion, this Bean Counter descended into the streets of Daisy Gardens and was caught off guard by the great amount of colors in the local flora he had never seen before in the other streets. Deciding to investigate these strange lifeforms as vibrant and energetic as the Toons, he eventually became enamored with meticulously collecting jellybeans and growing them into full-fledged plants, even having his gardening activities approved of when showing off his creations like organic money trees.

🔪: Sharpening his blades down the streets of Polar Place, this Back Stabber has an arsenal of weaponry... his most prized being a pair of ice skates. In the beginning, he initially had a piercing interest in doing his job with as much efficiency as possible, and picked up skating with the intent to increase the speed of productivity and battles against the Toons. Now he enjoys skating to his own leisure and competing in ice skating battles more these days, but would be defensive and try to claim otherwise if questioned about it.

🧀: An absolute blockhead of a cog, this Big Cheese always acts like a hotshot with his former fame being a formidable high rank among the Bossbots, all while also deliberately sidestepping armor-piercing topics like his incapability to fly with the lack of a propeller, gaping holes in his head, lacking a group attack, and being considered the weakest tier 8 cog for traits like these. Even with the days of glory behind him, he still adamantly tries to keep up with the current trend of what’s “cool”, constantly jumping the Loan Sharks.

🎭: The combined forces, or more accurately, faces, of Double Talker and Two-Face parts melded together during a low resource day in the factories, these two brothers both strive to earn great acclaim and attention to prove themselves... but the thing is, they struggle with such drastically differing personalities, desired ways to achieve their goals, and the predicament of sharing a single body. Even though they oppose each other often, they still stick together and secretly admit the concept of having their own separate body and losing their brother would feel wrong in the end.

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 18

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

A/N: This story has turned into a game called “how much longer can I drag this romance out?” and the answer is: very long.

Word count: 3.7k (chapters getting longer....)

Part 17 <<< >>> Part 19

MASTERLIST

Peter and her agreed to take things slow, to first build back the trust they had before diving into a relationship.

               That being said, neither of them had accounted for the ever-present longing they felt when they stood right next to each other yet couldn’t take the last step separating them. They never expected it to feel so wrong to sit on opposite ends of a couch, or to give up the nearly systematic physical contact they maintained before.

               Emmeline used to surprise him by jumping up from behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, they walked with their arms linked, Peter poked her left side while he stood to her right to throw her off, and little things like that. Why did they miss those so much? It was always the little things.

               A month later, they both expected to have grown used to their new status quo, but then Valentine Day rolled around, and Peter found every cell in his body urging him to throw aside caution and ask Emmeline out again. If not then, when? How much longer until they had rebuilt the foundations of a solid relationship? How much longer until his double life wasn’t constantly standing between them? And more importantly: how much longer would he be able to bear it?

               Unbeknownst to Peter, Emmeline struggled with the same issues, and she wasn’t doing much better when the entire city suddenly turned into a big splash of red and pink, with chocolate advertisement everywhere. Emmeline avoided Time Square altogether and declared she was on a sugar cleanse, not even looking at a piece of chocolate.

               She was the one to give in to temptation first. Slowly, day after day, she started getting touchy again. Certain moments she genuinely felt as though she would lose her mind if she kept this security distance with him.

               It started small. It started innocent. She squeezed his shoulder when she walked behind him – in class, at the Tower, it didn’t matter. She bumped into his shoulder to get his attention when his focus wavered. She looped a hand around his elbow when they walked together again.

               Peter didn’t think much of it except that he enjoyed it very much and was relieved to feel her warm touch again. The gentle grasp of her fingers around his elbow didn’t seem that much of a big deal until he was deprived of it. He knew she could walk on her own regardless of the height of her heels, but he sometimes doubted of his ability to walk without her support.

               Then it wasn’t so innocent anymore. It was desperate, though Peter himself was so acutely aware of her touches and moved by them that he never filed them as such. Why just lean over his shoulder when she could wrap her arms around him and rest her chin on his shoulder to see what he was working on? Why go get a chair when Peter’s lap was available? Why hold his elbow when she could wrap her arm around his waist?

               It was getting out of hand, she knew that. Could she stop? No, but she knew, at the very least, that she was playing with fire. The best instance of this was the day she asked to see his powers.

“Alright, show me,” she had told him, gesturing him to bring it on.

               They had been working in Peter’s dorm room, quizzing each other for an upcoming exam, but any studying had stopped a while ago and they now simply talked the day away while lying on his bed in various relatively uncomfortable positions.

“Show you what?” Peter asked, head perking up to look at her.

               He had been lying on his bed, feet up on the wall, while Emmeline had been dangling hers off the mattress. She had stood up.

“A Spider-Man thing! I don’t know! I mean, I’ve known you’re Spider-Man for over a month now, but I have yet to see it for myself,” she said, crossing her arms and shrugging her shoulders. “The people demand proof, Parker.”

“You’ve seen me use my powers,” he objected, sitting Indian style on his bed now and shaking his head. “You’ve seen me lie in a hammock made of my own webs.”

“No, no, no, that doesn’t count. You wore your mask, it doesn’t prove shit,” she argued. She was already holding out her hands to help him off the bed. “I can’t reconcile the picture of you and him. You’re so… different… but also the same? And I don’t know, I guess I’m a little confused sometimes, and I think it would help tremendously if I coul- “

               Peter picked up a web shooter from his backpack so fast Emmeline didn’t process what he was doing until it was too late. She never got to finish her sentence because he shot a web at her. Suddenly, she was pulled forward when Peter yanked on it, making her fall straight into his open arms.

               The least she could say was that she hadn’t expected this to happen when she made her request. What had she expected? That was a good question. Certainly not to land against Peter’s chest, palms open on his collarbones, her deer-in-the-headlights look making him smirk in this boyish way that never failed to make her blush. She tried to look away but there was nothing she could do to hide it from him when they were so close.

               Hadn’t she yearned for a proximity like this?

               Come March, they were both holding their breath, waiting for something to happen – anything at all would do, just as long as this sweet mutual torture came to an end.

               Life went on as per usual, Winter slowly melted away to make way for Spring, and the slow mending of their relationship seemed long over with. The broken trust felt like an old injury, leaving only a thin, pale scar they barely noticed anymore. Then why couldn’t they act on their feelings?

               Virtually nothing stood between them anymore – Emmeline had reclaimed her independence, Peter’s secret was out, she was part of his everyday life and his superhero life now that she interned at Stark Industry. What else were they waiting for?

               It was a recurring question that plagued both their minds. Unbeknownst to each other, they had both reached the same conclusion: it wasn’t about waiting the right time, or overcoming obstacles, or even exterior factors keeping them apart.

               There was fear – a fear of ruining something so delicate and fragile, yet so precious, as the bond they had developed. It was new for both of them, albeit in different ways. Peter had never met a girl like her, someone who accepted both sides of him and didn’t treat him differently even after finding out the truth about him. Emmeline had never realized she didn’t have to go through life all alone until he walked into her life and showed her.

               Somehow, it felt a little wrong to disturb the carefully set balance they established. They stood in precarious equilibrium, the slightest disturbance would throw them off balance, and who knew what would happen then?

               It was a matter of estimating the risk-reward ratio, and deciding whether or not they wanted to go into the unknown.

               But such downcast thoughts didn’t cloud their minds during the day – they were reserved for lonely evenings spent apart or sleepless nights. The latter were particularly tough on them, they made it hard not to give in to that late night haze that pushed most people to do or say things they would never do or say in broad daylight.

               Peter had lost track of how many times he swung by her new place, thinking he could push his fear aside and swipe her off her feet right then and there, before finally coming to his senses and going home. Emmeline couldn’t count how many times she had to turn off her phone completely, lest she make that midnight call that would change everything.

 *

 “You didn’t have to come here with me,” Peter repeated for the million’s time as he grabbed the glass door and held it open for Emmeline.

“I really don’t mind,” she told him again. How many more times until he believed her? Did he think spending time with him was a chore to her. “Besides, who were you going to ask for a second opinion if not me?”

“Ned?” Peter said with a funny face.

“Is it a question or an answer?” Emmeline laughed.

               The bell rang, signaling their presence to the store’s sole employee.

“I don’t even know. But when I asked you to help me find a birthday gift for May, I expected to have a few ideas thrown at me, not a full shopping day.”

               Emmeline unwrapped the scarf hanging around her neck, letting her hair fall down her left shoulder.

“We’ve been at it for an hour, Peter. That’s hardly a ‘shopping day’,” she snorted lightly, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket so he would follow her. “What does she normally wear?”

               Peter wasn’t too sure about this, but after ruling out the usual mundane gifts that were more practical than fancy, Emmeline had insisted on going to a jewelry store.

               He thought about it for a second, until his eyes set on a glass window.

“Earrings,” he said. “She wears earrings every day.”

               With all the expertise of a young girl brought up in wealth, Emmeline began to scour the rows and rows of jewelry, pointing out several to Peter who hummed in appreciation whenever he liked something.

               This went on for a while, until the store manager was finished with the previous customers and came to see them.

“Miss, sir,” he began. “How may I be of help? Are you looking for something in particular?” He looked at the window display in front of Peter and Emmeline before adding, “a ring, perhaps?”

               Peter stiffened and his faced burnt up faster than he thought possible while Emmeline blushed lightly and turned towards him, a sideways smirk on her lips. She edged on embarrassment and laughter, not knowing what to say.

“Oh, no,” she eventually told the men in his fifties that stood before them. “We are here for a birthday gift. We thought earrings would be nice. Maybe gold – what do you think, Peter? I think your aunt is a gold perso-“

               A sudden shriek coming from other customers who had wandered in the store cut her off. Peter’s hair stood on end the second the shrill sound interrupted his train of thoughts. Before anyone knew what was going on, the front door had been blocked from the inside by a man dressed in black, while two others stood each side of their partner, AK 47 in hands.

               How could he have missed that? Peter felt his heart drop at the realization of what just happened. Within a handful of seconds, they had been taken hostage and locked into a small hole-in-the-wall store. Had the old man’s assumption thrown him off to the point of missing something so big? It wasn’t good.

               Coming back to his senses, Peter pulled Emmeline to his chest and turned around to shield her with his body the second they began to fire their guns, earning another round of screams from the other customers and the store manager.

“I want everybody on the floor right now!” One of the men shouted, firing his weapon again to scare everybody into obedience.

               Peter dragged Emmeline with him to the floor, making sure she was safely hidden behind one of the display windows that would act as a shied if bullets came their way.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, pressing her eyes shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she sang like a litany, taking the full measure of their circumstances. “This is bad.”

“Be quiet,” Peter told her, resting a hand on her shoulder as he slowly sat up on his heels to look through the window and have a peek at what the burglars were doing. One of them held his gun against the manager’s head.

“Can you…?” Emmeline asked him, her voice barely above a whisper so no one else could hear her.

               He knew what she meant, but the answer was no. Peter hadn’t brought his suit, and even if he had, he wouldn’t be able to change.

               To their right, in the corner of the store, were the other customers, the ones that had screamed to alert them of the robbers’ presence. They could see everything.

               Peter looked down, then towards Emmeline, a grave expression on his face as he shook his head. She closed her eyes again and clasped her hand over the one he put on her shoulder.

               Emmeline was holding his hand so tight it hurt and her chest rose quickly as her breathing got erratic although she made a visible effort to stay calm and put up a brave face – too bad Peter knew the signs of panic all too well.

“Em,” Peter called her to make her look at him. Her eyes plunge into his and he sees the fear behind her irises. “It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you, alright? Do you trust me?”

               She nodded energetically and exhaled slowly, letting her head drop on his shoulder to show that she did, indeed, trust him with her life. However, as soon as she felt him move, she tensed up.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Peter. You don’t have your suit,” she reminded him.

“What do we have here?” a gruff voice asked, interrupting their hushed conversation.

               A tall man dressed in black and wearing a mask that hid the entire lower part of his face emerged from behind the piece of furniture they hid behind. Peter tried to hold her back but she had let him go when her assailant pulled on her hair. Emmeline was dragged back harshly without any caution, letting out a terrified cry. Her hands flew to her scalp and she screamed in pain as the man dragged her on the floor, holding her by the hair.

“Look at this,” he told one of the others.

“What am I supposed to look at? A pretty girl?” he asked, clearly uninterested.

               The man who was still holding Emmeline, now crouched down beside her, meeting her tearful and angry eyes. She struggled in his grasp, trying to make him let go and preventing him from taking a good look at her. He only tightened his hold and used his other hand to grab her chin, squeezing harder than necessary, his ugly, grinning face too close for Emmeline’s liking.

“Don’t you recognize her? Her face was all over TV after that poorly executed shooting on Christmas Eve,” he explained, suddenly gaining the attention of his partners.

               It was true. Because her parents ran as soon as the situation took a turn left, leaving Emmeline behind, the media deduced the worst had happened. It didn’t help that she walked away from the shooting without telling a soul and headed straight for her apartment and then Peter’s place in Queens. In the end, it was Dexter who told everybody he had seen her well and alive – a good opportunity to appear on live TV.

“Oh, yeah, I know that face now that you mention it! It’s that girl!”

“Mister mayor’s love child, what a coincidence! Not really a child anymore,” the man who held Emmeline drawled out unpleasantly, making her turn her face away from his stinking breath. He allowed her to, having made his point. “Would be a shame if something unfortunate happened to you, don’t you agree princess?”

               Peter watched on in horror as Emmeline spat in the man’s face, a scowl on her face, and yelled at him.

“You don’ get to call me ‘princess’, you disgusting piece of shit!”

               One had to admire her bravado, although it nearly gave Peter a heart attack when she deliberately provoked the man who so clearly physically overpowered her – and he wasn’t even alone!

               He gave her a back-handed slap that echoed in the now mostly empty shop. There were three robbers, Emmeline, Peter, and five other people – four customers, and the store manager who was asked to put all the jewelry in a bag. All four of the other hostages were directly in Peter’s line of sight, which meant they could also see him. He couldn’t simply open his bag and take out his web-shooters for everyone to see.

               But when Emmeline landed heavily on the floor in a pained grunt after having been hit by this man, he didn’t think twice and jumped on his feet.

“Stop!” he shouted, getting everyone’s attention. Three guns were now pointed at him, but all he saw was Emmeline looking up at him, faintly shaking her head no to tell him to stop whatever he was doing. Abort mission.

“Get the fuck down!” One of the men told him, taking a step forward without lowering his gun. “Now’s not the time to play hero to impress the girl!”

               The one who had dragged Emmeline away from Peter in the first place now grabbed her by the arm to pull her up and onto her feet, holding her at gunpoint.

“If you move, she dies,” he warned Peter.

               Peter held his hands up in surrender to show that he wasn’t going to attempt anything. He tried not to linger on Emmeline’s insistent stare and the way she tried to communicate with his through eye contact only. Stop your nonsense, Peter! This is madness! You don’t have your suit, you’ll get hurt or worse!

               He could almost hear her voice in the back of his head, urging him to stay put, but he couldn’t stand sitting behind that counter while she was being manhandled for being the mayor’s daughter. Truly, Peter’s mild dislike of the man turned into something of a stronger nature every time he was mentioned.  

“I won’t do anything,” he told them, keeping his hands up. “Just let her go, please. If you want to threaten someone, take me instead.”

“No, Pet-!” Emmeline shouted before being silenced with a blow to the back of her head and falling on her knees.

“Don’t hurt her!” Peter asked them, his own panic rising steadily. He couldn’t do much apart from buying the police some extra time to arrive.

               He didn’t wait for their green light and simply walked around the counter, hands up, to stand between them and Emmeline’s crouched figure on the floor. One wrong movement and he would be littered with too many bullets to count – or to recover from.

               The manager was almost done bagging all of the jewelry, but he was obviously dragging it out to buy some more time, having picked up on what Peter was trying to do. From afar, they could already hear the sirens.

“Fuck, the cops are coming,” one of the men swore, lowering his gun and turning to the manager. “Hurry up if you don’t want a bullet between the eyes!”

               He didn’t have much choice but to do as he was being told. Behind Peter, the four other customers whispered between themselves, their voices rising slowly as panic grew. One of them, a man in his thirties, seemed to be particularly shaken up and ready to snap.

               Following Peter’s example, probably thinking it was a show of bravery, he stood up, hands in the air, although they were shaking rather badly and he had a frantic look in his eyes.

“Sit down! Sit the fuck down!”

“Don’t play hero, dude! Get on your fucking knees!”

               The robbers began to shout at him, not giving him a second to say anything at all. Still on wobbly legs, the man slowly inched towards the front doors, as if he wasn’t being aimed at with deadly weapons.

“I just wanna leave,” he stuttered out when the three men stopped barking orders at him. “You have her, what use am I? Just let me go, please.”

               Peter’s sympathy for the man wavered just a bit when he glanced at Emmeline’s crouched figure on the floor as he mentioned ‘her’. He was ready to let them have her if it meant he could get out of a scary situation. He was ten years older than her, trembling in fear while she remained calm and alert. Of course, there had been the initial terror and panic, but being recognized seemed to have helped her to ground herself.

“Sir, stay calm,” she tried to stop him from making a big mistake. “Everything will be fine.”

“How do you know that?! Ugh?!” the man began to lose it and started to freak out properly. “I don’t wanna die here! I just came to turn a bracelet my ex bought me! I don’t wanna die!”

“No one is going to die,” Emmeline stated as slowly and reassuringly as she could. “Return with the other customers.”

               The situation was escalating too quickly, Peter didn’t like where it was heading. Emmeline was still on the floor, trying to appease – in vain – a selfish man whose own survival clearly took precedence over everyone else’s. His erratic behavior might even prompt the others to do the same and try to escape.

               If this turned into a shooting, Peter wouldn’t have any other choice than to act, at the risk of outing himself.

“Listen to the lady, man. Sit the fuck down, I won’t repeat it another time!” the man who had manhandled Emmeline said, his cutting voice leaving no doubt as to his seriousness.

“You can get away with a robbery, but if you kill a man, your face will be everywhere on the news!” the panicky customer smart mouthed, unaware that he was digging his own grave. “I haven’t seen your faces, I’ll just leave and you’ll never hear of me again!”

               Everything happened really quickly then, and it was only thanks to Peter’s supernatural speed that it didn’t turn into a proper disaster. Peter jumped into action when he saw the robber’s hand tighten on his gun, and took the bullet that was meant for the other guy.

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Taglist: @of-virtuoso​ @justanothergenzkid​ @complete-trash-101​ @the-freefeather​  @yarkmydude

[cooltrainererika]

Alt-talia Double Feature: From Across The Sea

Hello, everyone! Halloween is nearing its end here.

So this is another late prompt, 10/25: Pumpkin/Grave/… I managed to throw this together quickly! Yay! So while I wanted to write about the origins of modern Halloween on the free space day, it turns out that the websites Google threw at me never gave me satisfactory answers for that. So instead, I repurposed one idea I had for Jack o’ lanterns specifically, and used it for the first in this double feature. Also, I asked hetaween, and it seems that this day is supposed to be about typical “Halloween” things. So for the second fic, I decided to use a ghost folklore a friend of mine on this site told me about. It was first suggested for the Mystical Creatures prompt, but I wasn’t sure if ghosts counted as “creatures”. But I’m glad I get to write more horror for this, you know, Halloween event.

Though heads up; America acts… pretty damn racist in the first fic. It’s supposed to be the 19th century, so it’s pretty normal, sadly. Also, there’s two OCs, but I can’t explain much about them since I haven’t developed them much myself (and I’m not even sure what gender they are, though they’re male for now for the sake of the fic). Though I do have ideas for a basic personality outline, I don’t think it’s that important here. All I know is that the second OC who shows up has red hair and green eyes.

Without further ado…

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(Also… people who read my fics, please reblog? I’ve spent so much time on them, I want more people to see them.)

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Slum Pumpkins

“Massachusetts, where are we again?”

America and Massachusetts had been wandering around Boston, and had ended up in its outskirts; and now, wherever this was.

They stood just past the entrance of a small street; a dim one, stinking distinctly of alcohol, the houses dilapidated, dirty children running around.

Massachusetts looked around, and immediately wrinkled his nose, before looking at America knowingly.

“Oh no. We’re in the Irish part of town.”

“…Yeah, I can tell with the smell; it has ‘Paddy’ written everywhere!”

But on this streets of this dank, hopeless neighborhood where the streetlights flickered begging for gas, on the porch of every house, there were spots of warm, glowing light.

As they walked through, the inhabitants running indoors or staring suspiciously or curiously at the two well-dressed men walking through their borderline slum, the sources of light became clear.

“…Pumpkins?”

Pumpkins, of various colors, carved with exaggerated, even intimidating facial expressions.

However, their light seemed to give the hopeless place a whole different face; fun, warm, even welcoming.

“America? Hey, Al!”

America looked back to the state, adjusting his glasses a bit.

“I think I heard from Scotland about something like this, actually. On All Hallows’ Eve, something about carving. He didn’t say anything about pumpkins though. I think he said it was radishes.”

“All Hallows Eve? Oh, it is that time of year. I remember how we shunned it as heretical all those years ago… But I do not like the face that one is making at me.” He flinched a bit.

As they walked, they saw the inhabitants making the best of the holiday; children stuck their heads into barrels to fetch apples as their friends encouraged them, and many sat around a table, playing some kind of game with saucers.

“I think they look pretty nice. I think I want one of those on my porch!”

“You be careful with Paddies,. You might catch something.”

From outside his window, the one whose true identity was Ireland watched as he carried his newly-carved Jack o’ lantern outside.

They didn’t notice, the two young men talking joyfully to themselves as they passed by the unassuming residence.

At least they didn’t look down on all of his traditions.

He knew better than to hope this meant anything, though.

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Lost At Sea

The ship left the dock at twilight without much trouble.

As with every departure, the folks of the crew waved goodbye, wishing them good luck.

The briny air blew through young Lukas’ hair as he stood at the back of the longboat, the dark sea turbulent, but manageable.

That soon changed.

A storm rocked the ship, the waves battering the hull, the wind howling.

Lukas hung onto the railing, used to the untamed seas; despite what his young appearance indicated, this storm was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

He just hated seeing perfectly good mead going to waste-

A scream pierced through the winds.

An ugly, pained, horrible scream.

Lukas froze.

No, it couldn’t be.

Lukas looked out across the chaotic waters.

And indeed, there it was, in the distance.

A massive, monstrous seaweed-covered humanoid, rowing in the remains of a longboat that had been long gone.

Lukas’ eyes widened.

“D-DRAUGEN! DRAUGEN!”

He shouted, straining his prepubescent voice.

Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to the young boy.

“DRAUGEN!”

Fright immediately spread contagiously throughout the crew, some inexperienced sailors even panicking and running about.

The captain, however, jumped straight into action. He didn’t need confirmation.

“ROW BACK TO SHORE! ROW AWAY! ROW AWAY!”

The screams had become deafening even to the rest of the crew by now, some even taking spare rows to assist.

Lukas looked again as they rowed away; yet the screams were only becoming closer.

Oh, sure, he knew he would eventually wake up back on land; however, for his crew, that ghoul could be them sometime in the future. 

“HURRY!”

The screams, despaired of wrath, only became louder and more deafening.

“HURRY HURRY! ROW! ROW!”

He started shouting as well, panicked.

“LAND! SEND THEM THE SIGNAL!”

They were almost there. Almost.

Closer… closer…

Lukas thought he could hear the ghoul call out a name. But he couldn’t make out exactly what.

“FULL SPEED!”

Soon, they were met with the light of civilization, the locals having gathered around the dock, in shock they had returned so early.

Finally, the hull hit the dock, the crew beelining off the ship, pushing and shoving, almost knocking each other over, as the locals helped the dazed sailors off.

As suddenly as they started, ths screams ceased.

As Lukas looked out over the sea again, the Draugen merely watched, before returning to the stormy, unforgiving ocean where it once came.

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 13

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvel-forever-17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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Wade insisted he wanted to play games, and Pictionary was the lowest effort game they could get him to agree to with the least chance of him inflicting property damage or bodily harm. And, as it happens, Piotr and Rhonda were absolutely unbeatable at Pictionary. Piotr could convey complex ideas quickly, with his honed skills, and Rhonda knew well enough how he thought that he usually didn’t even have to finish his sketch on the big dry erase board before she guessed correctly. Rhonda herself wasn’t much of an artist, and though her inelegant diagrams were inscrutable to Wade and Cable, they were very clear to Piotr.

For Rhonda, playing a game felt nice, but a little strange and uncomfortable like slipping into old clothes from when her tastes were very different. Recreation in the Icebox had been limited to fighting rings, giving or receiving tattoos, and making and hiding the most extreme shivs. Of course she remembered all the times she enjoyed playing Pictionary with her husband, but she also couldn’t shake the last few years being dangerous to focus on anything without also checking over her shoulder every second.

Wade and Cable made a chaotic team. No matter what he was supposed to be drawing clues for, Wade mostly drew penises and added different clothes or props to them. The correct answers for all of Wade’s drawings were a stretch -- several penises with biceps were supposed to be the Summer Olympics. A group of excessively hairy penises was supposed to be the Amazon rainforest. A penis wearing a beard, a sweater vest, and a Rage Against the Machine tattoo was supposed to be a political science professor. And so on.

Rhonda shook her head with a quiet laugh, despite herself. For a long time, she was the most mischievous person Piotr would keep close in his life, and Wade was orders of magnitude more impish than Rhonda had ever been - even counting the time she smuggled in some weed brownies to eat with Ororo and Ilyana. As Wade drew a penis with insect wings that was supposed to be Jeff Goldblum, she thought he was an unusual choice of friend for Piotr. But then, Piotr had also started dating a telepath, so maybe he had a few changes himself that she didn’t understand.

Cable huffed, “That’s it. I wanna switch teams.”

“Fine,” Wade said, voice completely level, “but I get Colossus.”

Cable and Rhonda exchanged a cold glare, before the four of them rearranged on the sumptuous leather couches according to the new teams. Her chest was tight and it was getting harder to stay calm as she gripped the dry erase marker. Her hand absently found her neck and rubbed where the collar used to sit. Cable drew out his stick figure diagrams - he had precise geometry with perfect circles and straight lines. It took Rhonda a few guesses, and time almost ran out for their turn, but she eventually guessed correctly.

Piotr’s turn was next, to draw for Wade. He had only roughed in a few simple shapes before Rhonda was sure the correct answer would be Claude Monet, but Wade seemed determined to guess everything but the correct answer. Piotr had practically recreated one of the water lily paintings before time ran out and Wade shouted his last guess, “JURASSIC PARK!”

“NO!” Piotr barked, frustrated.

Rhonda looked at her prompt while her husband argued with his friend. She carefully considered the best strategy to draw this out in a way Cable would correctly guess. They set the timer going and she quickly got to work making a rough representation of a werewolf fighting a vampire. Cable floundered through some guesses that weren’t even close, so she slashed a big line through the first one. In another corner of the board, she made her best drawing of Hades from the Disney version of Hercules, with fire around him. She looked over at her teammate and saw his brows knit together so tightly he could hold a half dollar coin in the furrow.

Time was running out. Rhonda twisted her hand in a circle, urgently encouraging him to keep guessing. She started a third drawing with some blocks to represent a city street with skyscrapers, and an arrow pointing under the street, with a lot of crude dollar bills. When she felt the push in her mind, an unwelcome other-ness like sticky fingers crawling along her spine, she froze.

“Underworld,” Cable finally said with complete confidence, two seconds before the timer started beeping.

Rhonda clenched her jaw and capped the marker. She snarled, “Stay out of my head, telepath,” and hurled the marker straight at Cable’s chest.

The marker halted, frozen in space with Cable’s telekinetic ability. He plucked the marker from the air and stood, gently setting it on the coffee table. His gaze fixed on Rhonda in a hard stare. One eye flared with bright orange-gold light.

Rhonda couldn’t stop the fight-or-flight rising in her chest. He looked just the way he had when he came into the Icebox and started shooting up the place. He looked like every other inmate or guard who had set eyes on her with murderous intent.

She shifted her stance and some whispers of lightning laced over her clenched fists. They both ignored Wade chattering about the movie Underworld and how it was a cinematic masterpiece.

Piotr moved quickly to get between them, throwing an arm in front of his wife in case she lunged. He shook his head at the silver haired soldier, “Please, Cable, don’t press her. Leave my wife alone.”

Cable’s brows quirked, then softened. “You’re scared of me?” he asked, but it didn’t sound much like a question. He eased a step backward. “You’re scared of everyone,” he said with more certainty.

“STOP IT!” she yelled.

She flicked her hand. Wade cocked a handgun. Cable shifted and raised his fist, ready to deflect.

Piotr caught her around the torso, immobilizing her, and raised his voice, “Wade, Cable, no!”

But instead of a bright streak of electricity arcing through the air, only a few paltry sparks flew and died no more than eight inches from her fingers.

Cable was never in any danger from her.

Wade giggled, smirking, “What is that, a warning shot? Or are you about as vicious as a nine-volt battery?”

“Drop it, Wade,” Piotr was desperate to de-escalate. It was so unlike Rhonda to lash out like this. He regretted putting her in a room with his friends when he knew she was uncomfortable with Cable, and Wade could be an abrasive jackass who wouldn’t leave well enough alone. This was a mistake.

Rhonda tried to wrench herself from her husband’s grip, only managing to bruise her ribs against his arm. “Let me go,” she growled.

“[No fighting. Relax,]” Piotr rumbled in Russian close to her ear. He kept his tone calm with her.

She lashed out with her legs, trying in vain to squirm out of his arm. “[Take your hands off me, now!]”

“[Not until you relax.]”

Wade raised his gun, but didn’t point it. “Uh, should I…?”

“No!” Piotr and Cable said at the same time. Cable took a few steps backward, palms up.

Rhonda huffed, winded from struggling against a giant vice grip.

“I promise it’s airsoft!” Wade said indignantly, “Look.” With a soft hiss, a small plastic pellet hit Cable in the chest. Cable grunted and before anyone could respond, Wade puffed his airsoft pistol again and shot Rhonda in the forehead.

The sting was enough to startle and stun her, and she halted her struggle against her husband’s grip. Still, he didn’t let go until she mumbled through a clenched jaw, “I’ve got an appointment with Hank. I should go.”

Finally, Piotr released his hold around her torso and gave her space. She took a deep breath, wincing at her sore ribs. The floral paint on her right arm had cracked all over from the motion, and was flaking off to reveal the Xs lurking underneath. Without looking anyone in the eye or saying another word, she stalked off, snatching her cardigan off the couch on her way out.

Cable watched her go, and when the door to the lounge shut, he turned to Piotr. “That’s all she’s got, isn’t it? The sparks. There used to be more.” It wasn’t quite a question. He knew. He had read her dread and humiliation and disgust and heartbreak.

Piotr swallowed and forced himself to speak evenly, “The power dampening collars in the Icebox.”

Wade shrugged and crossed to a shelf that had a bowl of mints. He picked through them until he grabbed a half dozen that were shaped differently from the rest. “Hellooo my little friends! Daddy needs some Percocet!”

Piotr looked at the candy dish in horror. He quickly set to laying into Wade for hiding pharmaceuticals in the candy; Wade insisted it wasn’t a big deal since it was in an adults-only room, and he was probably doing the X-Men a favor.

Rolling his eyes, Cable politely excused himself and headed for the infirmary.

--

Rhonda’s follow up with Dr. McCoy went well enough. He didn’t ask her why she had shown up so early, nor did he prod her about seeming agitated. “Take things as slowly as you need,” he reminded her, “Your relationships with your friends, with yourself...it will all come back.” Hank gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded, but her jaw didn’t relax. Her gaze set on the paper bag full of medication for injuries and infections that hadn’t quite healed on their own. The paper crinkled in her fist. “Thank you,” she forced herself to speak.

Pointing at her arm, Hank said, “This looks nice. Piotr?”

Her expression flickered brighter when she followed his gesture to the flowers on her arm. “Yeah, we were playing with paint this morning,” she explained. “It was gorgeous when it was fresh.”

Hank watched her smile fade and fidgeted with his stethoscope. He went to the supply drawers and took out the spare lightbulb from a few days ago. “Try this again,�� he held it out to her.

Rhonda heaved a sigh loaded with hesitation. “No.”

The doctor’s encouraging smile didn’t falter. “Why don’t you take it with you, then?” He set to putting it back in its flimsy cardboard box. “That way you’ll have it whenever you’re ready. When you can light this bulb, we’ll move on to other things. How does that sound?”

Crinkling the bag and letting out another slow breath, Rhonda begrudgingly took the boxed lightbulb. “It feels like I’ll be like this forever.”

Hank saw the chance to get her to elaborate, “Be like what?” When she gave him a pointed look, he didn’t push. “It will feel like that sometimes,” he conceded, “even when you know you’re doing better. I think it helps to remember you have a lot of people who love you, no matter what you’re able to do.”

Rhonda returned a weak smile. “Thanks,” she said, “I’ll try.” She gestured a loose salute with the lightbulb, and backed out of the office.

She almost backed right into Cable, but he sidestepped her and cleared his throat. Startled, she spun, ready to drop her things and throw punches right for his gut, but he took another step back and raised his palms.

“I want to apologize,” he began.

Her jaw worked, chewing on her emotions as she tried to remember she was home and to keep her manners. Rhonda took a moment to study the opulent wallpaper over Cable’s shoulder before meeting his eyes. “And?” she prompted.

“I have a...condition,” Cable gestured with his left hand, which was metal, but a little darker and less polished than Piotr’s steel. All the way up his arm and over his shoulder, the metal crept up his neck, where his skin puckered and pinched as it gave way to the metal. He continued, “I use my psionic powers to keep it from getting worse, and sometimes that makes it harder to control my telepathy.” He lowered his hands and let them rest on his belt. “I’m sorry I got in your head. There’s...some heavy shit in there. It’s harder to avoid than most people’s thoughts.”

The tension in Rhonda’s shoulders eased just a hair. “Most people can’t feel a telepath poking around,” she warned, “I can.”

Cable nodded, “So it’s hard for you to trust us.” At Rhonda’s sharp inhale, he added firmly, “That part’s obvious, ma’am, I don’t have to pull for it.”

“Ma’am?” she scoffed, trying to force herself to loosen up.

“Just tryin’ to be respectful,” he took a step to the side, starting to edge away. “And maybe,” he added, fumbling for words, “Try practicing to music.”

Her brows twitched together and she tilted her head. “Okay?”

Cable shrugged, “Just something my daughter would probably say if she met you. She used to say music made everything better. A lot of good advice.” He gave a warm smile that didn’t show any teeth, but made him look years younger and with half of whatever worries he carried now.

They exchanged curt nods and went their separate ways. With her meds and the lightbulb in hand, Rhonda headed to her room. She shook her head wondering why, as a dancer, she hadn’t thought of practicing to music herself.

[lycorogue]

Meet My OCs: Willow (Part 1 - Background)

Sorry this post was delayed a week. Sorry again that it’s 11pm on Sunday, so I almost missed my publication deadline AGAIN! 

I really did aim to get this up for my weekly Sunday updates of this series. However, Willow proved to be a bit more detailed than I gave her credit, resulting in her introductory post taking the better part of a week to write up and edit.

Before I get further into this post, however, have you had a chance to read my intro posts? They're not needed, but they do provide added context.

Part 1: What is this “Meet My OCs” series, and what was my inspiration when creating the worlds these characters live in?

Part 2: What IRL inspiration helped me create my four main OCs for my Gyateara stories?

Part 3a: What is the X-Future play-by-post game, and what inspired the creation of the main characters for Glitches?

Part 3b: What X-Men canonical characters needed to be reworked for Glitches, and how have they changed to become more original creations?

Feel free to check those out, and then come back. Otherwise, links will also be at the end of this post for your convenience.

Now then, let's get into the true meat and potatoes of this series, starting with the character I tend to unintentionally favor. The one who has the most visual presence. The one whose introduction was so massive (over 30pgs long in a Word document) that I had to split it into 6 parts to avoid overwhelming people (this may still overwhelm, though; sorry). These Meet My OCs posts are getting beefy.... I think I’ll have to switch to every OTHER Sunday for the updates.... Anyway, be prepared for a nice 6-post dump onto your dash!

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Willow “Wisp” Driver

I was the one who watermarked that pic, BTW, to make sure Willow can't be swiped by anyone...

And, can we also give another quick shout out to @edendaphne​ for the beautiful commission work on my baby girl?

Anyway, Willow was my second X-Future character, and quickly climbed the ranks to one of my most prominent and vocal characters of all time. Check below for Part 1 of Willow's intro, which includes a broad overview of who Willow is, and some backstory for her. In a few minutes, I'll also have up Part 2, which talks more about Willow's main relationships: her family, her friends, and her romances. Later, I'll post Part 3, which talks about her basic storyline within X-Future, and how it relates to my intended starter arc for her in Glitches. In Part 4, I showcase some more artwork of Willow, followed by some narrative scene examples in Part 5. Finally, I’ll conclude with Part 6: wrestler entrances for Hubby’s WWE13 game.

Overview: 

Willow was 15 when she was first created back in 2012. She is currently 18 in our game. She's about average height at 5'4” (162.56cm), and has a fairly lean body. She's not overtly muscular, but she is sculpted due to her favorite form of exercise: parkour/free-running, an activity she started after school when she was 10 in order to help burn off extra energy. She's playful, flirty, a mischievous prankster, bubbly, and has a bit of a snarky/sarcastic attitude. She's also cunning, a bit manipulative, incredibly passionate, and surprisingly cautious and suspicious. She tends to surprise people by having a different view of life than most expect, making her playful when most might be somber, making her angered when most would be relieved, or making her harsh when most would be sympathetic. (examples of these outlooks will be in Part 5)

Further Physical Description:

Her hair is naturally a silvery-white, but that's too “grandma” and “bland” looking for her, especially with such pale Irish-American skin. So, to accent her aquamarine eye color, she routinely streaks the silver with blue. The shade of blue varies from dye to dye.

Family:

Willow's mother Meryl is a “normal” human. However, Willow's father Jacob Driver is a mutant (glitch). He has the power to “manipulate” any object so it looks like whatever he wants, as long as it's roughly the same shape, size, and weight. For instance, a chunk of cement could appear to be a large, raw ruby. A stack of blank paper can look like a first draft manuscript of a famous novel. A flashlight can look like a stick of dynamite, and children's play money can look like $100 bills. (Yes, Jacob was inspired by Hook Waters and the Shifting ability from the 2009 movie “Push,” and the categories for The GRID are also inspired by “Push”). Now, the objects aren't physically changed in any form. Instead, Jacob drapes the items within the illusionary forms he desires. His targets will 100% believe the objects are what Jacob claims, as long as they are indeed the correct size, shape, and weight; giving the items the tactile features the illusions suggest. Non-targets of Jacob's powers, however, will see the object for what it truly is. So, if someone accepts the “raw ruby” from Jacob, and takes it to a jeweler, said jeweler will simply see the original chunk of cement.

In his youth, Jacob had used his ability to manipulate items in order to swindle his way through life: making his homework appear done, his dissertation seem ingenious, his wallet always look filled with large bills, etc. He was eventually caught, and served some jail time. He was released early on good behavior, and ended up meeting Meryl, who turned him from a life of crime and swindling. (In the Glitches version, Jacob even had a bit of a playful con-artist rivalry with Ryder, and both men went legit after meeting their wives).

Now trying to stay off the radar as much as possible, Jacob resisted using his powers. He also avoided the public visibility of protesting at mutant/glitch rallies, deciding instead to silently protest mutant/glitches injustice from his home via online boards and petitions. Jacob also made a point of following the latest mutant/glitches news reports, even with his children Shawn and Willow within earshot, much to Meryl's disapproval due to the violence usually talked about in the reports. The news affected Shawn and Willow differently than Meryl originally expected, and the two would pretend to have battles using the various superpowers they heard about via the news.

Powers: 

Willow has the power of illusion. To be more technical, she has the telepathic ability to make her target's brain believe an illusion so faithfully that it becomes a seemingly physical manifestation. They actually hear what Willow wants them to hear, see what she wants them to see, taste the flavors she mentally puts into their mouths, and smell the scents she coats her illusions with. Most importantly, through a secondary use of her telekinetic powers, she can have her illusions have a “physical” form to those targeted to experience them. She can lift someone off the ground to make them feel like they're flying, falling, or climbing. She can mentally push down on someone to create the feeling of weight. She can also manipulate parts of the brain so the illusions have texture. The target can feel the cool lick of water splashing against their legs, the sharpness of a needle pricking their skin, the softness of satin, the frigid cold of a snow storm, the rough texture of sandpaper, etc. For all intents and purposes, for Willow's target, the illusions are physical manifestations.

When Willow first started using her powers, she could only concentrate on the two main senses of sight and sound. If she wanted to target more than one person, or if she wanted her illusions to affect more senses, she had to shift to the psychic world of the Astral Plane, causing her to fall unconscious as her consciousness transitioned onto the other level of existence. While on the Astral Plane, she could also use her telepathy to read minds and communicate telepathically. After some practice, she was able to learn to condense the psychic energy of the Astral Plane into a weapon (psy-weapon) she could use while on that plane.

Now that Willow is 18, she has much better control of her powers. She can create fully immersive illusions targeting up to 20 people within a quarter-mile radius (402m). She can use her telepathy for communication and reconnaissance for up to 5 people within the same quarter-mile radius. She can also use telekinesis to lift a collective weight of up to 600lbs (~272kg) within a 30ft (9.14m) radius. All of this without having to shift to the Astral Plane. When she does move to the other plane of existence, her powers increase 10-fold.

One of her favorite illusions, which also truly showcases her base personally, is turning herself into her version of the Cheshire Cat. One can usually tell that Willow has a prank or other mischievous plan in mind when she manifests cat ears, a tail, and a cat-like grin.

Image generated via gen8′s Chibi Maker on deviantart.

Power Manifestation: 

As mentioned above, when they were kids, Shawn and Willow would run around their backyard in San Diego, California, and pretend to use superpowers to battle either each other or an imaginary foe. They would pretend they had telepathy, telekinesis, teleportation, wings, pyrokinesis, electrokinesis, accelerated healing, energy blasts, etc. One day, when Willow was 11, she became upset that her nearly 13-year-old brother was refusing to play pretend anymore. While nagging him to play with her, she imagined herself throwing fireballs at Shawn. He then actually saw the fireballs aimed at him, as well as the fire damage the dodged balls created. Understandably, he ran, terrified, and screaming for their parents.

Jacob, still trying to stay as far off-radar as possible, avoided sending Willow to a “Mutant Only” school, and instead tried to train her to control herself and her powers. It was tricky, though, since she showcased different powers on any given day, making it hard to know what her abilities actually were. Her imagination also expanded with her powers, and she soon reveled in the thrill of pulling pranks with her ability, usually resulting in terrorizing Shawn. After two years of Willow “playfully” tormenting her brother – as well as some classmates – Jacob finally caved, and sent Willow to the Colossus Academy; a sister location to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. 

It was at the Academy that a telepath was able to finally figure out Willow's power of illusion and manipulation, and helped start Willow's training. While Willow continued to pull pranks, they weren't nearly as mean spirited as they were towards her brother.

In the Glitches rework, Emily’s school on the east coast is the only place Willow is sent. I’m still reworking the timeframe of everything now that I don’t have those 2 extra years between Willow discovering her powers and going to the school. I do know that Willow is sent to Emily’s school because of Jacob’s connection with her husband Ryder.

Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters:

In X-Future, Willow originally went to the west coast branch of the Xavier Institute: Colossus Academy, appropriately run by Piotr “Colossus” Rasputin. Willow stayed at the Academy from age 13 through 15; grades 8 and 9. While at the Academy, she became best friends with her roommate Noelle “Penumbra” Firada. She also became close with Marjory “Lookout” Allodis, the girl tasked to keep her safe whenever Willow went into the Astral Plane, leaving her lifeless body defenseless. A young boy named Winston “Hedge” Michaels became a bit of an unwanted tag-along. He was only two years younger than Willow, but the introverted and awkward boy with virtually no social skills latched onto her as an unwanted and bothersome younger brother figure.

When Willow was 15 and nearing the conclusion of her second year at the Academy, Colossus and his wife Jubilee were needed for a crucial X-Men-related mission. Neither of them returned home. Delegates from the Xavier Institute were sent to the Colossus Academy so the students could finish their school year, as well as figure out where to go next. Then, once summer hit, the Academy was shut down. A lot of the students were sent to the east coast and the Institute. Once there, Willow originally stuck with her core group of Noelle (Penny), Marjory (Marge), and Winston. Willow's a friendly enough person, outgoing and inviting, so it didn't take long for her to make friends with Devon, Chayse, and Lia, as well as create a playful rivalry with a classmate named William.

For more about these relationships, check out Part 2 of Meet Willow.

Willow's Style: 

Her base style started off a bit punk/rocker/scene, similar to the early 2000's fashion Rogue and Boom-Boom wore in X-Men: Evolution. Over the past 7yrs since I created Willow, her style toned down a little bit. She still wears fairly form-fitting outfits and short skirts, though. Her main color scheme trends towards blue and white, to match her hair.

Willow's a borderline exhibitionist, always teetering on that line between showing off enough to excite onlookers, and leaving JUUUUUST enough to the imagination. She has budding curves, and she's perfectly fine showing them off to everyone. In fact, much like Trish, Willow has an unofficial theme song herself: “I Get Off” by Halestorm

Willow doesn’t really care who you are when she flirts and teases. All she cares about is if she's getting your blood pumping, if you end up desiring her, and if she's riling you up somehow. She's just turned on by someone else getting turned on by her. She's much more modest than she lets on, though, and rarely follows through with any sexual acts. Instead, she uses her powers of illusion to create a copy of herself, and lets the copy continue along with the act, should the other person wish to go along still. She's so used to deceit and manipulation, thanks to her powers and how she uses them, that it's actually hard for her to find full trust in others. As much as she teases that sex is all well-and-good fun, deep down she knows she, personally, would regret participating with her own body unless she fully trusted her partner.

Her desire to get others riled up and turned on even extends to using her illusions to try to draw other couples together. Especially with a bunch of “Will they; won't they”, she has fun having an illusion of one trying to seduce the other, just to see where the snag in their “will they” might be. Plus, she loves watching her classmates blush.

------------------------------

Welp, there’s your broad introduction to Willow. Now to move on to Part 2, where I’ll talk a bit more about her main relationships.

------------------------------

While waiting for Part 2, you can also check out my introductory posts for this over-all Meet My OCs series.

Quick recap this series thus far, in Part 1 I talked about why I wanted to do this series in a bit more depth than I did above, and I talk about the real world inspiration for creating my two main worlds:

Gyateara – a high fantasy world that will, presumably, house many self-contained series that may or may not interconnect beyond all taking place on the same planet

Glitches – a pseudo-cyberpunk future AU of Earth where mutated humans – known as Glitches – must fight for equality, and even survival, while also dealing with the normal dramas of puberty.

In Part 2 of my series, I explained the real-world inspiration for my four main Gyateara OCs:

Amara Yori

Jolene Crisslebalm

Natalie

Connor

Part 3 of this series went a bit long, so it was broken down into its own two-parter. In Part 3a, I talked about the creation of the four main characters of Glitches:

Chayse

Lia

Willow

Trish

For Part 3b of this series, I explained the canonical character origins of my adult Glitches, and how they've been reworked to create my still-evolving adult support characters for Glitches:

Matteo

Emily

Ryder

Keahi

Cody

Iggy

Alright, this long post is becoming more epic, so I'll catch you guys in Meet Willow Part 2 in a few minutes!

[creideamhgradochas]

Thanks to the lovely @marvelatmytrash for taking the time to answer these! Get to know more about lovely Bee, go give her a follow and then show her some love!

These questions are from this list. You should check it out, there’s 50 questions all together and they’d be great to ask your favorite fic writer!

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fan-fiction?

I think I had just turned 22, I was fresh out of undergrad and wanted a way to keep my writing and editing skills sharp while I job hunted.

2) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

I think I’ve only written reader inserts. I usually leave their physical attributes nondescript but I definitely create intense personalities to all my reader inserts. I think I do this because I want my readers to imagine themselves as these strong, kickass females, who are also vulnerable, but have weak spots, the same way all of us do. I put a lot of effort into creating strong female characters that still have flaws, no Mary Sues for me!

3) What is your favorite genre to write for?

I love writing Marvel. I pretty much only write Marvel, predominantly Canon because I have so much comic book knowledge, plus I love writing fight scenes.

4) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

Oh lord, probably Compensation and Consequences, its just a small little one shot that I did as a request but its a Game of Thrones AU. It definitely has some problematic choices in it, I totally shoe horned the sex and attraction into it. Overall it’s just trash.

5) When is your preferred time to write?

I always find myself writing at 1am or onwards. A lot of the time I’ll just knuckle down around 1am and do what I call a writing sprint, where I’ll write all the new parts for whatever stories I’m working on and get them all done in one night, then edit the next day and start queuing them up.

6) Where do you take your inspiration from?

This is so embarrassing but I get most inspired by listening to musical soundtracks. There are a couple of my stories that have direct song quotes from Waitress and Heathers. Musicals are so rich and overdramatic, they have always been a big part of my emotional development. So whenever inspiration strikes I have a whole playlist of angst songs or love songs from various musicals that I just play in the background on repeat and I will shamelessly pull lines directly from them.

7) In your Divided series, what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?

Ooo that’s such a tough one, honestly that whole series is just one of my absolute favorites. But if I had to choose, I think the chase scene in Bucharest. It’s so dynamic and there is so much happening and I honestly watched that scene frame by frame for a week and worked this original character into it step by step.

8) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

I’ve never changed the story itself. A couple times I’ve changed the formatting at peoples suggestions. I didn’t chunk my paragraphs well when I first started, but someone suggested I break it up more so I did. It’s little changes like that, but I would never change what I write because someone dislikes it. My writing is for me, I’m just sharing it with others for fun.

9) Who is your favorite character to write for? Why?

Bucky. Absolutely Bucky. Though I am warming up to Steve. He has such dimension to him, he’s been a favorite of mine ever since I started reading comic books. His story is so sad and in-depth and there has always been room for new details and development in every reboot. He’s such a dynamic character and that makes him such a treat to write.

10) Who is your least favorite character to write for? Why?

Hahaha I guess Thor, but I actively avoid writing him cause his tone is so hard to get right without over doing it, so I’m not sure if he counts. Tony is tough too, cause you want to be quippy and clever without being over the top, and that’s a very fine line.

11) How did you come up with the title for the Divided series?

I am a big fan of one word titles, maybe I am just on the Disney train with Tangled, Brave, Frozen, etc. I love it when one word can encapsulate what the series is about and also when the word has more weight than just it’s basic meaning. Aftershocks, my first series, is a good example of this. The main character has suffered from shock torture and has a lot of scars and residual issues from it, but Aftershocks is also a psych term sometimes used to refer to the radiating effects of PTSD on the victim and those around them. Divided was the same way, it encapsulated both the theme of Civil War which is the changing and division of Tony and Steve’s relationship and also shows how Bucky and Steve, though still perceived as a unit are Divided now by not only their different experiences but their competition for the same woman.

12) How did you come up with the idea for Divided series?

I’m honestly not entirely sure. I had this basic idea of working a reader into Bucky’s story in Civil War, but the original plan didn’t have Steve involved at all and definitely wasn’t on the level that Divided eventually became. Once I decided that the reader would start with Steve, it immediately raised the stakes of the whole story and this character of The Scorpion began to take shape. After that, the whole thing got pretty easy, she was a fully formed character and a lot of what happened in Divided was just me asking myself what choices this character would make and how the surrounding characters would honestly respond. I try really hard to just develop my characters thoroughly and then let them make honest choices, I think that’s the best way to keep a story real and authentic.

13) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Oh yes, my hidden shame, and it haunts me. It’s called Royal Flush, and it currently has 3 parts. It’s a T’Challa fic and a lot of people have found it and liked it and I feel so guilty that it hasn’t gone anywhere in a year. Honestly, this mess up is totally on me. I never draft out my stories, and I know I should, I usually just make it up as I got along and sometimes I just hit a blockade with where it’s going to go. I definitely want to finish that fic, but just have no idea how, so if anyone has any ideas or suggestions, throw them my way!

14) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

I’m going to say Divided, just because it is one of my favorites and I so deeply love Scorpion as a character. Her struggle in Divided was so hard and I hate to leave her there just heartbroken. I have drafted a couple followups for that story, but after how Infinity War ended, I feel like it would just be cruel to put her through losing Bucky all over again.

15) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

I am happy to say that there are none that I would do differently. I’m extremely content in how they all ended.

16) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

I mean first and foremost, I have to talk about @imhereforbvcky, she was my first real friend on here. We started talking when I was writing Aftershocks and I eventually convinced her to take a crack at writing herself and she finally did and wrote this incredible fic, I’ll Be Good. It honestly is so amazing! Mee specializes in the fem fatale, she writes these incredible badasses that are all dark and twisty, I honestly don’t know how she makes violence so elegant, but she does.

@denialanderror is another one, her Melodies series is so perfect and lovely, she gets this beautiful vulnerability to Bucky that just attacks my heart. It’s such a wonderful change of pace from the way that I write and I always reread it whenever I need to be reminded of the soft parts in his personhood. I honestly love it so much and recommend it to everyone. Plus she is an amazing friend and such a fun person to send memes back and forth with.

Finally @bitsandbobsandstuff just full on destroyed me as a person with Safe With Me. That story honestly puts everything I’ve ever written to shame, her deep understanding of Bucky as a character is just like nothing else I’ve ever read. It’s such an in-depth story with an incredible slow burn, if you haven’t read it yet, you are missing out.

17) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

I cringe a little bit with Aftershocks, my first series, but I also see a lot of value in it. Whenever I get stuck or think my writing isn’t good enough, I reread it and remind myself how far I have come as a writer, and that always helps to get me back on track.

18) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

Both, sometimes I just have the same song playing on repeat in the background, other times I need complete silence cause the monologue in my head is flowing so quickly. I definitely edit in silence, I cannot hear my tone or catch my mistakes when rereading if I don’t have silence.

19) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

Hahaha I have, I cried while writing a couple parts of Divided, that story is very close to my heart cause the love triangle in it is unfortunately something that happened to me, and I accidentally hurt someone I cared for a lot.

20) Which part of your Divided series fic was the hardest to write?

Hahaha probably the one or two sex scenes I snuck into it hahaha. It was just not a story that really leant itself to smut. Like you’re not going to be running for your life, camping out with fellow teammates and just quietly have a fuck in the dirt. So squeezing those sex scenes in there always felt a bit funny to me, but I think in the long run they both fit and were put in at appropriate times.

21) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?

I probably should make an outline but I always just go with the flow, I honestly have no idea where my stories are going till they get there. But I do reread my story whenever I get stuck so that way I can tie things back in or close up lose ends.

22) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fan-fiction?

To breakup my paragraphs and use the keep reading button hahaha

23) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

I am currently feeling that way about a story I just started called Siren’s Soldier, so I paused it for a little bit to see if it was worth continuing but it recently got a bunch of love while I was in Italy so it might be time to come back to it.

24) In contrast to 23 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Nothing that I’ve written to be honest. There are a couple of exceptionally problematic stories that have an absurd amount of notes and that bums me out, just because I don’t like seeing those kind of relationships idolized or modeled. To clarify, the issue I have is that these kind of stories have a lot of gas lighting, self harm, non consensual sex, and sometimes even violent relationship dynamics. I work very hard to make sure that my characters model healthy relationship habits and positive communication because we need to stop romanticizing rape and abuse in relationships, so it bugs me when fics that do that are popular.

25) Are any of your characters based on real people?

I model my readers off of specific parts on my own personality. I essentially take one side of myself and just exacerbate it into a whole character. I am a very independent person and a feminist myself so a lot of my female characters have those similar qualities of independence and confidence. Especially when doing reader inserts, you want to make the character someone that you yourself want to be, your alter ego, someone to escape to. That’s why I’ll let my characters, be selfish or shitty communicators but I’ll never let them get down on themselves, we do enough of that in our real lives, lets not do it in our fantasy lives.

26) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

Hmmm this is a hard one, @imhereforbvcky sent me a very disarming compliment the other day that totally moved me to tears. But most of the ones that really hit me are when people recognize the amount of effort that goes into everything, or when they message me to talk about my story and see all the little easter eggs I’ve tossed into the early chapters. I also live for every reblog you’ve ever done, they always make me feel so loved and valued, I’ve honestly have gone back and reread your reblogs when I’m feeling down on my writing and they always pick me back up. It takes a lot of time to create a world and characters and tie everything together in one neat story and having that recognized always makes my heart sing!

27) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I haven’t really gotten a lot of harsh criticism, I’ve gotten bullshit anonymous messages that are just mean, but no real criticism. I’ve gotten constructive criticism but a lot of that has been kind and helpful so I don’t take that personally at all.

28) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

@imhereforbvcky and @denialanderror and I have a group chat on instagram so whenever I’m particularly jazzed about something I drop the premise into that chat and get their feedback but most of my big twists or turns I keep close to my chest so that way they can be a surprise to everyone.

29) Do people know you write fan-fiction? In my real life?

Some people. My best friend knows but she’s never read it. My boyfriend knows and sometimes reads the smut I write and will use it against me in bed. He frequently likes to quote some of my own lines to me, he thinks its funny, I don’t find it as amusing. But he is a lot of my inspiration for writing positive relationship dynamics, we work really hard at having a healthy, communicative relationship and that manifests in my writing frequently.

30) What’s you favorite minor character you’ve written?

I really like Om, this character I wrote for Siren’s Soldier, they are non binary and do not have a set gender identity so that was fun to play with and extrapolate on, especially because their non-binary personality had a lot to do with their power so that was really cool to explore to explore.

31) What spurs you on during the writing process?

I generally get really excited when things are free flowing so I guess I spur myself on. I take a lot of joy and pleasure in the things I write and feel my stomach twist when I’m writing suspenseful parts, so a lot of it is just my own enjoyment.

32) What’s your favorite trope to write?

I’m a sucker for the slow burn, so I love writing the enemies become lovers trope. Usually I don’t actually start them as real enemies, but they never start close or as friends. I’m not a big fan of the falling in love with my best friend trope, as I have a bunch of guy friends that I have never once had an urge to fall in love with haha.

33) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

Oh god, I honestly can’t. I wish I could. I didn’t start reading fanfic until after Civil War came out and I graduated from college. I remember being in a place where I was just disenchanted with porn but I was super into marvel so I went looking for marvel smut on the internet and found the Bucky smut rabbit hole. I remember reading a lot of different stories and never finding exactly what I wanted and also finding a lot of problematic sexual relationships. At that time I was working as a sex education teacher and I remember thinking that I could write better smut with healthier relationship dynamics, and I did. That’s how it all started.

34) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Ooooh blimey, this is impossible because I write a combination of all three most times. I guess I would have to say angst, causing it doesn’t get boring so easily. There are so many angst tropes to explore and play with. So yes, definitely angst.

[meggannn]

shepard v. ryder

some meta, with no spoilers, about the differences between the characters, and how relieved I am that BW didn’t head in the direction of a “blank slate” PC like the Inquisitor for the Pathfinder.

I know this is an unpopular opinion, but I like it when Bioware gives us canon facts about our PCs. I know people find it limiting, but I like it because it tends to give me something workable as a “reader” of the story they’re putting out, and it usually – imo – works out better than when they give players a free-for-all blank canvas, which is what we saw with the Inquisitor, and sort of with the Warden.

I have to explain where this post is coming from by starting with an explanation of what I think is an example of a PC done poorly. this may earn me some irritated anons or reblogs of people defending their Inquisitors, but I think the Inquisitor is a prime example of when BW does PCs wrong. I think their writing is at their strongest when they decide what at the emotional core that’s driving the PC – eg Hawke, who fights for family and loved ones, or Shepard, who fights to preserve life even at the cost of their own. even the Warden had a loose narrative arc: it was a traditional hero’s journey – maybe stale, maybe cliche, maybe old, but it was there. the Inquisitor didn’t really… have any of that. they reacted to events, they never acted first (unless you count the mark, which wasn’t their choice to begin with). they had emotions, but there was no consistent theme or growth with those feelings. they made choices that didn’t change who they were, because the player had to decide who they were, often via headcanons and fic. in all of the histories (human/elf/dwarf/qunari), there were codex pages and occasional mentions of a family or life before the Inquisition, but – and I say this having admittedly not played through all of the backstories myself, but reading up enough on them – there’s nothing very substantial to grab onto. it leaves the player to fill in the blanks just to figure out who the person you’re seeing on screen is (and there are a lot of blanks), and in such a heavily story-driven game series affected by PC actions, a blank canvas for a protagonist doesn’t always fit the role well, narratively speaking. I know some people call that freeing for the purpose of OC-making, but I personally call it bad writing; there is no overarching narrative for the Herald, no… personal resolution that stretches across all playthroughs. (you might be able to count count confronting Solas in Trespasser? but that brings up a whole other litany of problems I have with that DLC, and how I think the Inquisitor’s most substantial growth as a person probably happens post Trespasser and how I’m mad that’s only hinted at, not confirmed, and that’s a rant for another day.)

my point is that I’m personally thrilled to see they went back to Shepard- and Hawke-style protagonists with the Ryders. the first time I realized BW was going in a completely different direction with Ryder and wouldn’t make them “the next Shepard,” I was thrilled. it’s very clear from the prologue they’re entirely different people. Shepard is a military commander with an established, respectable Navy career before the events of Eden Prime. even if they’re a loose cannon, Shepard has worked their way up the chain of command; Shepard is an N7; Shepard knows how to work alone and with a crew; hell, Shepard’s done enough to earn Spectrehood without even a lengthy vetting process.

Ryder is young, and it shows. Ryder has, if ever, at least not consistently, led a squad, and certainly never commanded a ship – and that shows too. Ryder is sarcastic, energetic, and occasionally juvenile, even despite selecting professional/logical choices. when Ryder makes decisions it’s often them speaking out in support or in judgment of one choice or another in a conversation, compared to Shepard’s more decisive calls made by someone with authority in the field. I don’t mind that, because I think it drives the point home: even in Shepard’s most renegade moments, they could be rude, hostile, or downright cruel to people, but they were never… youthful. or childish.

I’m not saying this to say Ryder is childish; I’m saying this because I think Ryder’s is – or will ultimately become – a coming of age story, because they purposefully start young and inexperienced, which is in direct contrast with Shepard’s journey in the trilogy: by the time we meet up with Shepard, they’re already an established soldier, and depending on your background choices, they’ve probably already seen one form of hell or another. they have a bad feeling about Nihlus’s mission, but I’d be surprised if most Shepards didn’t think they could handle whatever Eden Prime was going to throw at them. Ryder doesn’t have that experience to fall back on, so Ryder travels to – and eventually falls headfirst into – Habitat 7 knowing they’re in for a rough ride, and bracing for impact the entire way, because the manual didn’t cover this.

my working theory is that Ryder’s will be a coming-of-age story about taming youthful energy and craving for adventure/exploration while learning not to lose the spark that drives them (against politics, against species-wide extermination, against cultural clashes between the MW species and the angara, etc). depending on the Ryder, they may have varying levels of maturity – or immaturity – but in default dialogue (by which I mean lines Ryder says that you don’t choose), a consistent theme I’ve noticed is that they still look and act and speak young, even when they’re not snarky. directly contrasted with Shepard’s story, which is – I think most people can even loosely agree on this? – about finding ways to go on through the hard times, and people who will stand by you when you’ve been beaten down and you’ve seen the absolute worst the world has to offer. neither of these characters are really about survival or living to fight another day; any intelligent species we’ve seen in the ME universe can survive just fine. but these traits – curiosity, exploration, and the will to continue even when the odds are impossible – are humans’ strongest traits, as noted in various ME codexes. (not that no other species is inquisitive or will-driven, but this is mentioned time and time again that humans have both of these in spades, much more noticeable than other species, in ways that often drive the narrative into directions they wouldn’t in the hands of, say, an asari or turian.)

I’m not saying “all Ryders are like this” because that’s not the point of an character-customizing RPG. fandom has proven BW can give us the mould of a character and let us fill in the blanks – like Hawke or Shepard (as opposed to the ‘blank slate’ of an Inquisitor or Warden) – and people can still come up with incredibly diverse OCs and go in totally different directions from each other. so personally, I don’t find it at all limiting or a bad thing to say that I think Ryder’s narrative journey is going to be about X or Y (because it can also be about other things the player decides fit their OC the best!). but I do think Ryder – and the other two in particular – all have undeniable traits that exist no matter your canon, and I’m personally very, very glad to see they’re going in this direction again with their protagonists. my second sigh of relief was upon realizing that they’re not trying to recreate Shepard 2.0. obviously it remains to be seen if they make more content with Ryder (fingers crossed), but so far, I’m really pleased with the direction they’ve chosen for them (and their twin).

[spidersanctuary]

A disordered venting about RP problems:

My experience RPing with Tumblr RPing is not very extensive - goes back about five years, I think. Before that, I RPd a bit, much earlier, but for the most part the only RPing I've done is on Tumblr (and Skype, but as an extension of Tumblr RPing).

I don't like bouncing around. I tend to stick with a place that looks legit, get attached to the characters (mine and others') and stick it out, even sometimes unreasonably so. I've been in... basically three group RPs. Two of them were larger (let's say, defined as "more than around ten active players at any given time", and the third was smaller and purely reactionary, a-la "we don't like the way things are here so we'll make our own". Though not without problems (and I can't say I didn't have my part in them), it was the most drama-free as a whole. It also looks like the fourth, soon to come, might follow along the same pattern.

Despite my sample size of one, I'm confident in saying small groups have a different dynamic. Especially if they're founded by people who already know each other. Bigger groups are trickier, in many ways, and I was struck by the realisation that the different problems I encountered in both my bigger groups were representative of two ends of a spectrum.  Similar things going wrong in opposite ways, so to speak.

One of them was defined by lack of forethought and planning. Indeed the whole RP just kind of happened organically, something more serious growing out of something very silly and casual. While it had its fun sides - and it was wildly fun, at times, for as long as the fun lasted - it's also obvious in retrospect how that could be a huge problem. Different players. No standardised rules or guidelines until way, waaay later in the game (after much drama had already happened). Lots of different people with different RPing backgrounds and personalities and playstyles, none of them fully on the same page. While many of the problems had to do with one or two difficult personalities in the group, that's not really the isuse. There is always a risk of... unpleasant people, no RP group is safe from them and no RP guidelines will truly protect you from someone who WANTS to start shit or manipulate things to their benefit and is cunning enough to do that. But even aside from that... the lack of regulation about who could grab what characters and how many (some players ending up with 20+ blogs), or any kind of spoken agreement about activity guidelines and replying etiquette. Lack of agreement about how "canon" certain plots were, in the RPing continuity. Lack of agreement about the continuity, period. A clash between people who wanted to develop a certain pre-planned (and rather exclusive) storyline and those who were more in it for spontaneity. It was a recipe for disaster. It didn't need to get as bad as it did, but starting off like that, it was bound to get unpleasant eventually anyway.

Now, the other group... oh, the other group. After the colourful experience of the first group, the things it offered seemed like a reassuring breath of fresh air. Planning! An almost DnD-esque level of detail to the established universe, rulebook, bestiary and lore! Basically an entire little sandbox lovingly crafted for you to play in. Transparent activity guidelines and rules! An actual mod team working to be approachable while still holding authority! New plots for everyone to participate in to be released basically by the clock, so nobody would feel left out! So lovely! Unfortunately, things are rarely as sunny as they appear. A certain type of literate, application RPs is infamous for their snobbishness and elitism, and despite the initially welcoming tone, that was exactly what this unravelled to be. On the flip side, many of the appeals of the group amounted to little more than elaborate publicity acts. Always, always must the group remain attractive and desirable to newcomers (perhaps unsurprisingly given the apparently abysmal player retention rates, both short and long-term). The tone turned out very different from what was advertised, the sandbox-like universe revealing itself to be more of a literal sandbox, with complex topics turned into gimmicks, and supernatural characters (prosecuted and feared for their in-humanity) easily and casually sharing information about their powers with near-strangers like kids on a playground comparing their toys. The "plots" thrown one's way are not only usually poorly (if at all) developed but intrusive, so that they are impossible to avoid completely even if one is not interested in them. Worse yet, the RP insists on doling out serious consequences and high-stakes crises like death, destruction, invasions of murderous monsters or malignant town-wide spells, but is curiously reluctant to allow any room for serious RPing or sense of consequences.

In fact, it's impossible to talk about consequences when even a sense of any basic continuity is thrown out the window, precluded by the occasional hiatus and re-launch and the various measures taken to make sure that new players enter onto a relatively blank slate. Yes, even if long-time residents of the area and the populace in general SHOULD remember and be affected by that politically motivated massacre half a year back, or that time monstrous vegetables SLAUGHTERED half a school of elementary schoolchildren. Thus, even though the RP is long-running (turning two years old soon), it is impossible for the setting to develop any sense of history, and instead it seems to turn more and more comically nonsensical the more tragedies befall the town and are promptly forgotten a few weeks later. Rather than a serious and in-depth setting, one begins to feel instead as if all the characters are living in a Lotus Eater-like state of vague oblivion, briefly reacting to various events but never quite letting them reach collective memory.

Now, all this might be bearable (and even fun! There's an appeal in a certain kind of wacky no-strings-attached horror-comedy-gore, no denying that), IF a couple things weren't true. a) If the RP (and specifically the mod team) didn't make such a huge deal about what a serious and respectable and serious RP it is. No OCs allowed. "We allow shipping but we don't put an emphasis on it! Please don't think this is one of those silly ship-obsessed RPs". No more than two characters allowed. Replies MUST happen every x days, and even though replies of various kinds are accepted (all prose, just different formats and individual reply lengths), only CERTAIN kinds count towards the activity requirement (???!), and a long-term failure to keep it up will end up in you getting the boot. Even if you ARE active and involved with other people and interact a lot. (Don't even get me started on that. I and about three or four other people, most of whom LEFT shortly after, ended up having our plots disrupted SIGNIFICANTLY because the mods booted - or in this case harangued into throwing in the towel and leaving in a huff - a player who was active with all of us, but wasn't active enough in "the RIGHT way" i.e. the right format. This was part of a bigger package of them caring more about keeping up certain pretenses and ticking off certain boxes to be more outwardly desirable to new applicants than the fun of the users who were already there.) b) The nit-picking. Oh god the nitpicking and micromanagement. Some of the shit I've personally seen, some of it I've heard about. It's one thing to crit a player for not being IC with a mod pre-made character. It's another thing to do that after they've been in play for A YEAR, and if you do that then, you're being blatantly disrespectful of all the development the player's put into them. And it's yet another thing to do that to someone's OC (before the 'no OCs' rule was instated). I've had mods dictate to me that my character shouldn't be reacting to x event like this or that, by listing a bunch of factors that, while possibly convincing, were only ONE possible way to interpret the big picture. For real. Psychology is complicated but for some reason all that goes out the window the moment the mod team decides they know how your character should be played (and I'm not talking about blatant realism or accuracy issues like "that's not how PTSD works" but actual decisions/ways of thinking, things that there should, in theory, be no "wrong" option with because once again, people are complicated).

Which brings me to: C) The omnipresent feeling of entitlement by the mod team aka the Powers That Be, as if they believe that theirs is such a supremely privileged, special and elite group, that they merely DEIGN to let you be a part of it. All of it manifesting in a complete lack of basic courtesy when approaching players. Or rather, any player who's been there longer than a month and who they're not actively trying to be Welcoming(TM) to. I should have seen it pretty early when I had a beef with another player who, to wit, disliked that an RP scene we had depicted her character as a "bad guy" (who was previously ESTABLISHED in canon as a psychopathic murderer!!! and the RP scene basically showed him doing more of the same!!!). She ended up badmouthing me to other players she was interacting with closely, and then they as a group complained about me to the mods, in which she twisted a certain conversation we'd had over Skype into something that reflected very badly on me, along the lines of me forcing her to RP a scene she would be triggered by. Now. This was resolved when I provided the mods with copied Skype messages (direct Skype quotes, a format that, in theory, can't be doctored) that showed she was fabricating that conversation - that she had outright told me she WOULD be okay with doing that scene. She eventually got booted for that (and other stuff). And all would have been well if it weren't for the way I had been initially addressed by the mods, and the condescending, denigrating, making you feel like shit TONE of it. Going from zero, utter peace, to "you have an attitude problem and you need to stop now or we'll kick you out". They also tacked on about half a dozen minor "offenses" I had done, like rambling too much about how the reasons I liked a school subject someone else disliked in the ooc chat, or trying TOO hard to get involved in plots, or other bullshit things that the people involved hadn't even complained to them about. I later realised that this, too, was a Pattern. Whenever they went to you with any sort of grievance, whether from their own side or from another player, they would tack on about half a dozen other "transgressions" you had made, sometimes making them up entirely out of thin air. (Other examples include: Me trying to "enforce a headcanon" by having my character react x way. I then pointed out that the "headcanon" I was allegedly """"enforcing"""" was the information stated on THEIR blog about how characters are large are reacting to a previous major town-wide event. (To wit: the information stated that the Event, a violent and deadly clash between two groups of people, exacerbated tensions between them and led to more mistrust between them. My character, who belongs to ONE group, was being mistrustful of the OTHER group. And somehow, this was not okay. Yes. That's it. That is literally how asinine it got. But then again, it's not surprising - as I explain later, it wasn't baout the offenses making sense. It was about getting to make me feel shitty for something) Or: I was being "inconsiderate" by having my character "out" the supernatural status of another character whose player was no longer in the group, and who they were not in contact with. Said player and I HAD in fact discussed this at the time, and they'd WANTED to have it happen, but the mods didn't know one way OR the other. They simply ASSUMED so they could try to pin it on me!) A long line of instances of them taking "offenses" that they didn't know for sure were offenses, that the player DIRECTLY affected HAD NOT come to them about, to paint a bigger picture of you being some kind of Problem Child who was daring to be naughty in THEIR classroom.

Now, I don't know if this was deliberate, but I can see why they did it. It makes you, as the player, feel like crap, puts you on the defensive, makes you question yourself. "Holy crap, were people really bothered by that time I went on a jokingly-serious rant about how awesome botany is when someone said they hated that topic in biology class?" (Hint: No they weren't. They thought NOTHING of it. But the mods saw it and filed it away for when they needed to make you feel like crap.) It puts the mods in a position of power and strengthened their authority. It forces you into a no-win scenario where you either deny the nonsensical accusations, and thus weaken your position and look less credible because it looks like you can't accept responsibility when you're wrong, OR accept the accusations and thereby agree with them that you're the naughty child and bad at following the rules. So it's a shitty, shitty manipulation technique. All of it coming from a place of entitlement and elitism.

I wish I could say I come from all this wiser, but it does feel like entitlement and elitism are the common denominator here. Part of the problem of the first RP was certain people needing to feel like they were superior and hating it when other people got in the way of that. Part of the problem of the second was stuck-up, self-important mods. Ultimately, it comes down to people who enjoy, just a little too much, to feel power and authority over people. To say that "it's THIS way, because I say it is" and have that listened to without question. Who enforce the rules not because it benefits the community, but because it makes them look good. Who view discussion, in and of itself, as disobedience, as an attack on their authority, an attack on them. I can't say I know for sure how to recognise the warning signs of a group like that BEFORE applying. But maybe big RP groups just aren't worth it, period.

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Play Me (Skam - Chris x OC) Part 2

Pairing : Chris x OC (name’s Elin)

Synopsis : Player 1 meets Player 2. The score is tight.

Word count : 3.8k

Part 1 <<< >>> Part 3

MASTERLIST

He did stop bothering her (sort of). At least, directly. His behavior still bothered her though, and Elin was ready – and more than willing – to break his legs next time she saw him go anywhere near Eva. That jerk had to go and fuck around with her friends – the next best option to her and to get on her nerves? - and now Eva had continuous fights with Jonas. All of that because Chris felt like kissing Eva. It was fucked up enough on his part to do this knowing she was in a relationship but now that Elin knew he was too, she felt like snapping his neck. She wasn't a violent person, but she was very imaginative and was dreaming about various ways to get back at him.

Also – and this was difficult for her to admit – she felt a little cheated because he had seemed so adamant to win her over. Being wrong didn't happen often to Elin (though it still occurred to her more frequently than to Sana) and whenever it did happen, it was always a huge shock to her. Had she misinterpreted Chris' intentions toward her? No, he did ask her out. It's not like she could have made it up, it was still on her phone. Truth be told, Elin was furious – like out of her mind furious – and not just because her pride was wounded, but because Chris used Eva to get to her, and she was also mad because he cheated on his girlfriend, who was completely oblivious to the situation and didn't deserve this. Just to mess with him, and to make things clear, Elin pulled out her phone and quickly typed a message.

To Ultimate Fuckboi™:

Wanna meet up tonight? ;)

He couldn't have answered any faster if he were waiting for her text.

From Ultimate Fuckboi™:

Your place or mine? (with the eggplant emoji, of course)

To Ultimate Fuckboi™:

NVW wrong person :)

When Elin was sure that her smiley face couldn't be interpreted in any other way than being sarcastic, she hit send. At the very least this brought an final point to Elin's internal monologue. Chris simply was a player. A misogynistic (how else could she call someone with so little respect for women?) asshole, who liked to collect girls like trophies and cared little about their feelings. Elin wasn't worried about her own feelings, but hell if she was going to let him play with Eva.

From Ultimate Fuckboi™:

That was a low blow.

To Ultimate Fuckboi™:

I play at your level.

When Chris read this last text, he saw red. Equally impressed and insulted, he locked his phone and tossed it on his bed. Who did she think she was? How could she resist him like that? Chris would have considered her liking girls if he hadn't seen her hook up with one of his friends. William said he had a similar problem with Noora, but Chris quickly dismissed the possibility of actually liking Elin – which was William's case, he literally couldn't shut up about Noora anymore. Elin wasn't likeable. She was bold, proud, uninhibited, aware of her beauty and competitive. She was hot and her confidence was a plus. She was desirable, that was the right word, not likeable. Chris couldn't remember when this tacit game of 'catch me if you can' began between the two of them, but it become increasingly obvious that they were playing a sick game. And the first one to give in to the other was going to lose. In Chris' humble opinion, she stood no chance.

The next time they talked face to face happened two weeks later – two weeks scattered with daily pickup lines Chris sent her, daily rejections on her part, and very active flirting going on on both sides, just not with each other. He could see her talk, smile, laugh, touch, flirt with other guys all day long. She did it shamelessly, not caring if the guy she targeted wasn't alone, she wasn't afraid to make the first move, or to be rejected. Elin was – and it took Chris everything he had in him to admit that – his female alter ego. The word was that she hooked up with most of the guys he had seen her with, and soon she had a reputation. Not a good one. Although Chris never really gave it a piece of mind, he realized how discriminatory it was that she was called bad names and he was praised, despite both of them doing the same thing.

One day, between two lame pickup lines, Chris sent her a Don't listen to them, because he overheard a group of girls call her bird names while she walked by, looking impressively calm and collected. They are just jealous, he texted her.

Not even Chris knew what he meant by that. Were they jealous of her success? Were they jealous of people like them who easily got their way with the opposite gender? Were they jealous because Elin was a thousand times more than they could ever be? She was prettier, smarter and since she was the one suffering being bullied in silent dignity, she was also overall worth more than those girls.

From Elin:

I don't need to be comforted.

A smile cracked his face in two, and Chris leaned against the wall behind him to distance himself from his group of friends and the conversation, and typed something back.

To Elin:

You wanna know what's beautiful? Read the first word again.

His own corniness made him cringe and smile at the same time, and although he had already sent his daily pickup line (today's was: I'm not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together) he still sent her this one, because he felt the unexplainable need to get her mind off of the nasty gossips surrounding her.

From Elin:

Exactly how many of those do you know? How long will I have to endure this?

To Elin:

Can't tell, I come up with them on the spot.

From Elin:

Game at its finest.

To Elin:

But it made you smile, just admit it already.

From Elin:

Maybe...

Chris wasn't going to push his luck and left it at that, with the warm feeling that he had just won a battle.

“Hey Chris,” William called his name and he had to look up from his phone. He hadn't even realized he was staring at their conversation. “What are you doing? It's time to go.” Apparently, the bell rang moments ago, and he was too caught up in his exchange with Elin to notice.

He didn't speak to her again after that (apart from the pickup lines, that is) until the day he accidentally ran into her – literally.

For a while now, the Penetrators were targeted by the Yazukas, who kept provoking them, and William feared that they were going to screw with their Russ bus. Fate had them meet at the park one Saturday afternoon, and what was bound to happen happened: a fist fight. Chris wasn't the first to throw a punch, but he was definitely the first to receive one since he stepped between one of the Yakuza guys and William to defend his friend. The punch he saw coming though, and he took it. What he didn't see was that he had a spectator.

Elin was walking in town, a bag of groceries hanging in the inside of her elbow, her hair swaying from side to side as she moved her head to some tune she was humming. She was in an inexplicable good mood today. No class, no homework this week, no nothing, not even Chris – had he finally given up or did he simply run out of pickup lines to send her? She was almost getting used to wake up to one of those by now. Not that she missed it.

She had almost reached her car when she heard shouts coming from somewhere on her left. Elin frowned and unlocked her car while looking over her shoulder, but she saw nothing. She put the groceries on the backseat and shut the door, locking the car and heading towards the source of the voices. Was someone getting attacked? Did she have something to defend herself? The pepper spray in her bag was always ready to use but she's rather just stay at a distance and call the police if something serious was going on.

The closer she got, the clearer it became that there was a fight and when Elin recognized one of the two groups, she felt the might urge to facepalm and turn around. But then, that stupid boy had to get punched, and Elin gasped, bringing both her hands over her mouth to stifle it. Fists flew and shouts and cheering ensued, Elin had no idea what to do or how much time had passed when she eventually heard police sirens, but it made them all freeze on the spot, fist raised.

Suddenly, they all separated, running in different directions and splitting up to make it more difficult for the cops to catch them all. Chris was the last one to run. He was the most hurt and he was still lying on the ground, groaning painfully when all the other had already disappeared. The girl pondered whether or not she should go and help him – at the risk of being involved with a fight if the police came here before they could leave – or just go. By the time she had made her choice and was about to step forward, Chris was already up and he ran. Straight toward her, though he couldn't see her because she was partly hidden behind a tree, and when he finally caught sight of her it was too late, their bodies collided and they both fell to the ground in a muffle thud and tumbled down the hill a couple meters.

“Elin?!” Chris shouted, looking bewildered.

“What the hell Chris?” She cursed, quickly jumping to her feet and landing him a hand to help him up. “Quick, quick, get up!”

“The cops are here, run!” He told her and for some reason, she not only obeyed but grabbed his forearm and began to pull him forward so he would follow her.

“No, my car's over there!” She told him when he began to run in another direction, pointing toward her Rover.

They ran and ran and no one said anything until they were both inside the car and Elin had drove off. Her heart hammered in her chest and she was breathless, but at least they made it. She didn't even know if it was overreacted or not, but Chris seemed to have calmed down now that he was sure not to end up at the police station.

“What happened?!” Elin asked in a shrill, demanding voice that perfectly conveyed the idea that she would not take silence for an answer. Chris winced because of his split lip, but answered anyway.

“The Yakuzas happened.”

“The Japanese mafia?” Elin frowned, her voice laced with doubt.

“What? No! The Russ crew from another school! They were looking for a fight and they were going to hit William so I stepped in. You're sitting next to a hero,” he said, smirking despite being beaten and bruised. He was going to have a black eye, Elin could already see it. “Ah shit, I can't smile, my entire face hurts!”

“Oh c'mon! I've never seen you smile anyway, all you do is smirk because you think it's charming,” she scoffed, turning left. “Where do you live?” She asked.

“It is charming!” He objected. “Don't you know? I thought you were hiding in my bushes, ready to throw rocks at my window.”

“I was asking to be polite,” she replied sarcastically, shooting him a fake smile. “You look like shit, Chris.”

“And yet I still look better than that guy you made out with the other day,” he told her, squinting his eyes at her.

“Peter?” She asked, purposely saying the wrong name.

“No Hektor!”

“Oh so you know all of them?” She laughed.

“Well, I have to know their names to blacklist them.” Chris shrugged, then looked outside. “I can't go home like this, my mom will flip!”

Elin remained silent for a few minutes, but there really was only one thing to do in this situation.

“It's alright, you can clean up at my place,” she sighed, already regretting her decision. It caught Chris' attention.

“Are we going to play doctor?” He smirked – again! - and raised an eyebrow, although he quickly stopped because it probably hurt like hell.

“Shut up!” She barked, although with a bit of fondness in her voice. “I can be your nurse as long as there's no stitching involved. I can't even sew a button, let alone a person!”

“What about yours parents flipping?” He asked carefully.

Elin licked her lips before reluctantly saying, “I- I don't live with my parents. They stayed in France. I have a studio not far from here.”

Chris didn't know what to answer, so he said “cool,” but then he wondered if it really was, or if she was lonely. They reached her place under five minutes and he followed her out of the car and up to the third floor, carrying her groceries for her – he insisted, even if she wasn't keen on accepting anything coming from him.

“I didn't know you're from France,” he said, to break this thickening and sickening silence.

“I was born in Norway, then we moved to France,” she explained concisely.

“Why did you come back?” He inquired.

“I heard there was an irredeemable heartthrob called Chris living here, so I moved right away, no second thought,” Elin replied, half playful half annoyed by his questions.

“Sounds legit,” he laughed, a little disappointed because he didn't get an answer. “I've never been called 'an irredeemable heartthrob', it almost sounds like a compliment.”

“Only you can take that as a compliment,” Elin said and took the grocery bag from him, before putting it away.

She removed her shoes and coat and he did the same, then she led him to her bathroom, where she stored her first aid-kit.

“You have an awesome car by the way,” he said. “Not awesome like William's, but still.”

“Do you have to diffuse the situation after you tell a compliment because you don't know how to be genuinely kind or are you just scared I might think you're nice?” She almost spat at him. “Normal people can say 'I like your car' to someone without dragging them right after.”

“Alright. I like your car. Period.”

“Thank you,” Elin said, smiling in satisfaction.

“Why do you have a car so big though?” He kept on asking questions, and honestly, if it meant he didn't try to hit on her while she sat him down on the edge of the bathtub and cleaned him up, then she might just answer.

“My dad said that a girl who lives alone should have a car so big she can run over a guy if needed,” she said point-blank.

Chris' eyes widened and he hissed when Elin touched his face with the alcohol drenched cotton to clean his wound. He had a gash running across his face, from the inner corer of his right eye to the left corner of his mouth. Maybe he would have a scar, who knew? It didn't look too deep but it still oozed blood. His left eye was already black, he cut his eyebrow and his lower lip was split. Actually Elin felt bad for him, he was in such a poor state that she felt guilty for being so severe with him all the time.

“I seriously cannot tell if you're messing with me right now,” he admitted, and it made her laugh genuinely.

“It's true, I'm not always sarcastic you know?” She felt the need to add. “You just manage to bring out my worst side!”

“Lucky me,” he said in a tone that she could only qualify as sad. “It's the first real conversation we have.”

“Don't ruin it, or I'll give you another black eye,” she warned him, brushing her hair back over her shoulder so it wasn't in her face.

“I must be a terrible person if you hate me this much,” he laughed bitterly, obviously not finding it funny at all. He sounded wounded - and not physically.

Elin let her arm drop to her lap and she fumbled with the cotton, putting it in a small ball. He noticed she was avoiding his eyes, but at least she wasn't laughing at him.

“I don't hate you, you profound cretin!” She told him, a faint smile giving away that she didn't mean the cretin part. “You're just behaving like a douche and you're unusually good at stepping on each and every last one of my nerves.”

“You can't curb talent,” he chuckled, and the girl went back to work. “I stopped talking to Eva, like you wanted.”

Elin nodded in response, acknowledging that he had done the right thing but not having anything to say to that.

“You could use your talent on someone else occasionally, it would give me a break,” Elin laughed in spite of who she was with.

He was a decent conversationalist when he didn't constantly try to play the asshole part.

“But you're the only person who answers me. Your comebacks are on point,” he said, closing his left eye. It looked like it was swelling a bit.

“Wait, I'll get you some ice to put on your eye.”

When she got up and headed to the kitchen to get ice, Chris took the opportunity to unzip his sweater and take a look at his ribs. His entire left side hurt like hell! His shirt was covered in blood at the collar from his nosebleed, but there was also a more worrying stain of blood on his ribs. Right as he lifted up his shirt and stood up to take a closer look in the mirror, Elin entered the bathroom, and she gasped at the sight of the long cut than ran over his ribs, and the forming bruise.

“Chris!” She said, handing his the bag of ice which he put on his eye. “Why didn't you show me this sooner?! Is this a knife cut?” She scolded him and made him sit down and strip.

“I knew you wanted my body,” he joked, ignoring the pain.

How much pain could he take before admitting that it hurt? Certainly his pride had limits. She helped him get his shirt over his head when it became obvious that he couldn't lift his left arm too high since it hurt too much and then made him sit down again. Elin pulled her stool closer and started to inspect this new found cut.

“Your pride is going to kill you one day,” she warned him in this motherly tone that girls used on reckless boys who got into fights.

“But I'm counting on you to patch me up and kiss my wounds,” he joked and hissed once again. Shit, that one stung!

“Will you stay still?!” She ordered and he complied, not willing to fight her today. Although she was pretty cute when she was mad.

“You're a bit bossy, aren't you? It's kinda hot,” he said, unable to repress his usual comments.

She glared at him from under her lashes and poked his side all the while making eye contact with him.

“That hurt!” He protested. “What did I say to deserve that? I told you you're hot!”

“Oh my bad, I must have heard wrong because I thought you called me bossy,” she snarled and put a gauze on the gash. He hissed again. “What now?” She asked. Surely she didn't accidentally hurt him, she was being cautious.

“Your hands are cold,” he simply said. “Hey, I've been meaning to ask you-”

“Shut up.”

“But I-”

“I said shut up, I need to clean the gash on your lip Chris, you need to stop talking so much,” Elin explained and he obeyed.

As soon as she was done with him, the talking resumed.

“How old are you? You don't look like... the other girls,” he said, trying not to say anything that might upset her.

“I'm from 97' like you,” Elin simply stated while putting away her first-aid kit. That too was an idea of her father, but she had never thought she would have to use it on a guy she couldn't stand. Or could she?”

“But why are you in first year then?”

“I'm not.” Elin frowned. “I'm in second year. I should be in your year, can you imagine that? But my Norwegian was a tad rusty so I thought it might be better to take it slow.”

“And you still hang out with Vilde and the others?” Chris wondered, both his eyebrows shooting so far up they were hidden behind his hair.

“Yes, they are nice. And since I came late I didn't have any Russ group and they invited me,” Elin explained and shrugged. “Don't you have friends younger than you?”

“Well, I thought I did until two seconds ago,” he chuckled. It was funny how he still tried to be flirty and charming despite having a bag of ice plastered on his face, hiding the entire left side of it.

“You and I? Friends?” Elin almost choked on thin air.

“What else would you call us?”

“I don't know, acquaintances?”

“Ouch!” Chris faked to be hurt by her words and she laughed at his dramatic gesture. “I cheered you up after those awful girls were mean to you!”

She was going to go for a classic but efficient “I didn't need it” or “you're just trying to get in my pants!” but she couldn't say it. He was being sort of alright at the moment, and he had been hurt so she simply couldn't bring herself to say anything mean right now. As long as he remained civilized so would she.

“And I appreciate it,” she conceded.

He thought she was about to add something but she didn't. Elin stayed quiet and just looked at him – it was not like he minded and he was doing the same. It was as though she hadn't really seen him before today, and even in the horrendous light of her bathroom, tattered, beaten, bruised and with this bag of ice, he still looked better than he had any other day, when he was smirking and winking at every girl who dared looking his way, and pretended to be an absolute jerk – that she suddenly realized, he was not. A comfortable silence settled in until Chris broke it.

“You're so beautiful you made me forget my pickup line,” he said, the ludicrous sentence making both of them grin like idiots, and there Elin thought he had forgotten.