#brick does picrew

[vampiricegirl]

everyones favorite nonbinary fail coterie - the noun coterie!

made with this picrew

toothpick - brujah - transmasc [he/him] - hes the leader of group. hes loud, sweaty, stinky, obnoxious. but he loves his friends and would die for them. he has a boston accent and uses way too much slang. always ready to throw down and put his filthy combat boots on the table. mercury - tremere - nonbinary [they/them] - ur favorite judgey asexual smartie pants. gets tired of toothpick sometimes but inevitably would do anything for him. they have trauma : ( but its ok bc they are working on it! and the rest of the nouns r helping them. do not mess with them bc they are deceptively strong for a pacifist. boron - malkavian - transmasc [he/they] - hes a malkavian with a stutter but a heart of gold. cares abt their friends and is basically the glue keeping them together. he loves music and being a watchful eye on all his closest friends. : ) drives a hearse bc its FUNNY and IRONIC and very AFFORDABLE and FITS ALL OF THEM COMFORTABLY. cookie - thinblood - nonbinary [she/they] - newest addition to the coterie. super sweet and soft. very nice and soft spoken. trying to find their place in both the night, and the coterie. (little does she know, they already have a place, and the nouns accept her and love them regardless of her insecurities) brick - gangrel - transfem [she/her] - garbage girl!!!! eats dirt!!!!! dumb as rocks but we like her like that. always quick to make a joke in dire situations. really wants to stake someone someday but toothpick keeps beating her to it. not pictured is her inevitably smeared makeup and grease and dirt stains from working on her motorcycle. anyways if u read all that i owe u my life. im so proud of these lil gay people in my head.

[that-one-i-think]

I got bored so I decided to make a Percy Jackson Oc but with a twist.

(Can't draw, used picrews 1 and 2 )

Name: Nanny or Abba

Parent: Hera

Age: 17 but technically 10 (god stuff).

Height: 6'4

Eye Color: Green with blue sections, similar to Peacock feathers

Hair color: Dark Brown with Grey streaks.

Looks: Dresses like a preppy mom up top and a good old dilf waist down. Looks both 17 and 32.

Gender: Non-binary and fluid (They/He/She)

Backstory: Hera, while a horrible person in the pjo universe, is the goddess of motherhood and feels a sense of duty to protect small children. Not wanting to see anymore demigod children left to die on the streets, she created Nanny from clay, her blood, and the blood of a children's show host. Due to the way Nanny was created, they aged rapidly, and after a year of life the were already 17 and then proceeded to temporarily stop aging. (They are not immortal, it was a rushed process)

Once reaching 17, Nanny was sent out to find and care for small demigod children who were too young to go to camp. Now, with a small brigade of children, Nanny, also known as "Mom, " "Dad," or "Abba," finally arrived at Camp Half Blood. Much to the shock, surprise, disdain, and even fear of the other campers, Nanny has taken over the care of all of the children, though they seem to be extremely avoidant of fighting or using their godly gifts.

Godly Gifts:

Emotion Enviorment - Of they are calm, they can make you calm. If they are angry, you are angry and so on and so forth. Useful when calming children.

A Mother's intuition - Knows whether or not a quest is going to succeed with 80% accuracy. They are more accurate when their children are involved, but lets just say, if they say, "Hey, go with this camper instead," listen to them. Mother knows best.

Parent Voice - Anything that they say while using this voice automatically forces the person to follow the command. Though under extreme emotional stress and despair, Nanny can let out a wail that can shake the ground and heavens (This ability is avoided at all costs, unlike their mother, they find no joy in manipulation)

Peacock Fan - A fan that allows them to change their gender whenever necessary. Doesn't change any of their features though other than weight distribution and heights. Female version - 6' 1, Neutral - 6'4, Male - 6'6. Eye Color, hair color and hair length stays the same. This ability is mostly used for fooling teachers during parent teacher meetings. The fan does hide daggers, though, but that is Nanny's personal choice.

Mom Purse - There is nothing magical about this bag, it is just a limitless black hole, like all mom purses. Though it occasionally houses a brick or two.

They are not strong in battle unless you have harmed a child. The worse the harm to the child, the stronger they are.

[brick-a-doodle-do]

fairy au dump ✨

// not a TON but it's definitely a start,,,

premise

tubbo is a botany student who, as a side hobby, spends his free time exploring the forests in hopes of finding pixies, which rumors have recently spread of sighting them. a lot of people call it bullshit, but tubbo doesn't.

meanwhile with the pixies, which do in fact exist, tommy and ranboo have similar interests with the boy: finding humans, which rumors have recently spread of sighting them.

what kind of trouble do they go through to meet each other?

au name

au: pixie dust and mischief (creds to 3d :D)

title: beyond the great beyond

size comparison

tubbo: 5'6'' (167.6 cm)

ranboo: 6.6'' (17 cm)

tommy: 6.3'' (16 cm)

character designs (ft. alliumduo)

tommy

the tips of his fingers fade into that red color too, just like his hair

also unfortunately the picrew didn't have anything remotely similar to a pixie's hat thingy sooo just imagine one on him FJDFJS

ALSO there wasn't the skin option i wanted for tommy so just imagine the pigment in his skin to just be a tiny bit more pink, like how some hybrid!techno designs are,,

tommy's color in his hair is natural but he does enhance it by dying it with cherries!

ranboo

felt like giving them eyelashes idk why dsjdj

ranboo's hair is not natural! his natural color is white but he dyes it by mixing every single thing he can think of until it becomes just pitch black VJVSDJ (upon closer inspection it's a deep brown but it fits his self-proclaimed theme!)

tommy and ranboo did match flowers in their hair for a while but tommy completely ditched him (despite starting the whole matching thing) and went to dandelions sdjsfj

i'm still debating it, but i feel like making ranboo a royal! i couldn't add a crown cause it didn't fit the bangs at all

anyways, like tommy, his fingers also fade into color! every other one is black, and the ones that are missed are white!

also similarly to tommy, ranboo's skin is a different color. it's greyer to the point where they look like sick. (the grey option on the picrew was too strong imo sfdjds)

okay yes that is pretty much all i have so far!! really underdeveloped and i only have a few ideas for scenes (hopefully that'll change) buttttt uh asks are open for this au ig.

and to be hones, there's a lot of design changes to come for alliumduo and probably a lot more characters to be introduced but before i can do that i need to figure out if they're human or fae ahdsfhsd

have a brick for making it to the bottom! 🧱

[andromedaexists]

Y'ALL LOOK AT THIS ART 🗣️‼️

This is a commission I got from Clanky (my twin ily so much omg). Their commissions are currently open, and you can find them on Instagram, Twitter, or just straight on their Carrd!

I just, look at my baby boys 😭 Clank did such a great job just incorporating the vibe of Icarus and Apollon omg

It's also one of my favorite things in the world that every time a picrew or art is created of Icarus, his hair gets longer. Y'all remember when his hair was like to his ears at the longest? Yeah, me neither

If you wanna figure out what's going on in this image, check out chapter 20 (The Argument) of Δάιος (Call Me Icarus book 1)!

TAGLIST

@flowerprose @isherwoodj @cream-and-tea @touchingmadness @lockejhaven @marinesocks @wildswrites @the-finch-address @leighvalentin @inkspellangel @outpost51 @hclyeden

Please fill out this form to be added or ask to be removed!

of course I'm also me and gonna share this specific scene because i just... i wanna...

“Even though he is engaged,” he stresses, pausing to give more emphasis to the word, “you’re sleeping with Achilles.” Anger pools deep in Icarus’ gut and its twin hatred rears its ugly head.

“Gods, Icarus,” Apollon spits, “I know you make bad decisions but this is unbelievable.”

Icarus snarls, a deeply guttural thing, and his lips pull back into a sneer. He takes a step forward, crowding into Apollon’s personal space and forcing him to take a step back.

That doesn’t stop Icarus from pushing forward again, and again, and again, until his back hits the brick wall of the building. For his part, Apollon does not cower, even as Icarus blocks him there and leans in so their faces are mere inches apart.

Who is he to say these things? What right does he have to come back into my life after ten years of nothing and dictate who I sleep with?

“You know, you could have been more subtle.” There is a shake to Apollon’s voice as he speaks, “Maybe don’t parade him around in your hoodie after coming out of the same room in the morning. Maybe don’t let him get all touchy-feely with you in front of other. I don’t know, maybe at least try to hide that you’re fucking him.”

Icarus needs him to shut up for just one gods-damned minute. Just one minute of peace and fucking quiet while he figures out how to deal with this situation without risking their only chance to get Patroclus.

But he doesn’t get that. And as Apollon opens his mouth to speak again, Icarus grabs his jaw. His hand covers Apollon’s mouth, silencing him.

“You shut your fucking mouth. You know nothing about who I sleep with.” Apollon tries to pry the hand off his face, tries to free his mouth so he can respond—to no avail.

[devil-doll13]

Sword and Sorcery

(Part 3)

Tw: Violence, Blood, Death, Slight Gore, Clay does fight and kill the dragon here and it gets a bit graphic.

(Abigail belongs to me, Clay belongs to @rottent33th <3)

Also look at t33th’s picrew of knight!Clay!!!

First Part

Second Part

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

The sun had yet to rise, so in the pitch black Clay had set off to finally slay the dragon.

The wind blew fiercely, assaulting him the whole way up the mountain. His hair whipped his face and stung his eyes, almost blinding him. Clay had made use of the shield attached to his right gauntlet to try and block out the flurry of snow from the blizzard, but it was impossible to avoid it completely.

Thankfully, the higher he got the less the storm raged. It was almost deathly still at the peak. But the air was thin up here, and his lungs felt frozen in his chest. Clay was exhausted, and marching through the heavy snowfall had already taken its toll on him. Still, he persisted. He would not be deterred by bad weather, not when this much was at stake. He had survived worse, anyway.

Clay’s footsteps suddenly came to a stop as he felt solid ground beneath, hard brick scraping against his sabatons. It didn’t take long for him to notice that the heavy snow he expected here had melted by some unknown source of heat.

A fire-drake, Clay immediately realised. No wonder there were so many fatalities, dragons of that sort were extremely deadly.

His pulse quickened, knowing that he was close. As he approached the tattered ruins he could feel his temperature rise and his blood start to boil. After so long trailing the beast he was beyond ready for a fight!

He entered beneath a derelict archway, he observed the ancient remains of what was perhaps an old keep. Its once mighty walls fell partially collapsed in heaps of decaying bricks, great halls long burnt and rotten away. It was almost volcanic where he stood now, ground black like obsidian.

A serpentine hiss resounded from up above. Snapping to attention, Clay’s hand was instantly at his sword, unsheathing it with a hammering heart.

Then he saw it. The dragon!

The dreaded wyrm perched atop a crumbling tower, glaring at him with ferocious golden eyes. Amber-scaled and radiating scorching heat, it was most surely a fire-drake. Black smoke curled out of its nostrils, embers escaping from its jagged maw. It leaped down with a beat of its leathery wings, and Clay felt the ground shake beneath him as it landed. He suddenly found himself face-to-face with the dragon, and his muscles tensed as it leaned in closer, its rancid breath fanning his face. He could smell the stench of its last meal, feel the fire lurking underneath.

They locked eyes, as if in a duel. Clay gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, feeling a deep hatred poison his mind. This dragon has killed many innocents. How many more would it kill if he failed now? A calm conviction settled in his bones as he prepared to strike, and for a moment all was still.

The beast suddenly snapped its jaws down over his head, a surprise attack!

But Clay was faster. He dashed underneath, slicing at its ankles. Hot blood like magma spewed out, splashing on the ground. It cried out indignantly, whirling around in a panic as it lost sight of him. The knight had no intention of being caught off guard by such a simple tactic.

Feigning a side-step, he made a wide slash and his blade tore through its left wing. He knew he had to disable it as quickly as possible, or the thing would fly away at the first sign of the battle going awry. The beast growled, snatching at him with its lethal claws. Clay parried with his sword, but felt the air knocked out of his lungs as he was forced back.

Seeing an opening, the Dragon drew back its head with a sinister snarl, glowing sparks flying from its jaws. Clay’s heart thumped as he quickly backed away. He knew instantly what this meant, but out in the open with nowhere to take cover, all he could do was ready his shield.

A blast of hot fire spewed from its mouth and the shield melted right in his hands, causing searing pain to shoot through his arm. He hissed and flung it aside onto the ground where it smouldered, but he didn’t have time to register this as he dodged another bite.

The blood pumping through his veins, Clay gripped the hilt with both hands as aimed down the pommel in a counterattack. He shouted out in a battle cry as he struck its horn with one mighty crack. It shattered from the force, splinters flying through the air and cutting his cheeks. The Dragon howled out in rage, swiping at his torso with one razor sharp talon.

White hot pain exploded in his chest, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it. Adrenaline flooding his system, he instead dashed to the left and cut another large swathe out of its wing while it was still on the ground. The beast growled and whipped its tail across, but Clay dodged expertly. Sharp hazel eyes seeing another weakness in its scales, he readied his blade and cleaved straight through its flesh, severing the tail by the base!

A scream of pain erupted from the creature as another of its attacks backfired. Nostrils flaring, it threw all caution to the wind and rampaged, thrashing about in an attempt to crush him entirely. But Clay was too fast, delivering another sharp blow to its vulnerable neck.

It shrieked out in agony, clawing at its wound. Then it retreated back to glare angrily at him, reptilian eyes burning fiercely. Clay returned the death stare with equal vehemence, gritting his teeth so hard they ached. He felt his own injury sting in his abdomen, ice cold despite the unbearable heat radiating from the battleground.

Sweat beaded his brow as they watched eachother, neither moving for fear of exposing weakness. Clay For either of them their next move would be crucial. This would be the final, decisive strike!

It spread its tattered wings and roared, and Clay gripped his sword tightly as the beast charged towards him with intent to kill. Screaming out a roar of his own, he slid underneath and with one jagged cut he ripped its belly open. Blood splashed onto the ground below, spraying his face. He hissed as it stung his skin, boiling hot. Its intestines spilled out from its stomach, the air stinking of its viscera.

Wailing in anguish, the Dragon lost the strength to stand and collapsed writhing onto the ground. Kicking its legs in desperate pleas to live, it nonetheless could fight no longer. In agony it delivered its last death cry, and the mountainside fell eerily silent.

Clay panted, watching as the beast was reduced to a limp, lifeless corpse. With a pained groan he staggered over to a pile of rubble and slid down in a heap. A feeling of relief washed over him as he was certain the battle was finally over. The first rays of dawn emerged from a crack in the sky, dark storm clouds dispersing as if themselves freed from the Dragon’s wrath.

He spat out a mouthful of dark crimson blood, wincing at the foreboding colour. Of course Clay hadn’t emerged unscathed; he could feel sticky liquid glueing his tunic to his ribcage, and a dull ache throbbed all over his body. When the adrenaline wore off, he would feel it properly then. He mostly likely had all manner of ills after this perilous journey and fierce fight.

Then he suddenly thought back to the gift he had been given by the mysterious witch. He lifted it, hand trembling, out of his satchel. Miraculously unharmed. its bile green contents looked as unappealing as ever. He shook it a little, watching it swirl like a whirlpool inside its glass container.

Without much thought left for the danger of gulping down a brew he knew not of the contents, he decided to drink it. It seemed to be calling to him, almost. Tilting his head back, he took a swig of it, and he couldn’t help but grimace as it burned down his throat. A few seconds later and an intense itch replaced the pain in his side. It shot straight through his nerves, almost as bad as the pain before it. Clay shuddered uncontrollably, squeezing his eyes shut in discomfort.

It mercifully passed after a few seconds, though the repulsive aftertaste of the stuff still made him gag. He heaved a shaky sigh, now doubting his rash decision. Of course that wouldn’t have helped his situation, he wasn’t sure why he thought it would in the first place.

Clay dared to lift his tunic and survey the damages…

And in amazement he found there was none at all! The wound on his abdomen had not only closed over, but it had already faded into a dull mark. Almost doubting his own eyes, Clay’s hand ghosted over the skin carefully, but he no longer felt pain. Only a bumpy ridge of scar tissue remained.

“Heh…” He let out a breathy laugh. What a gift indeed!

(Taglist: @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better)

[eternal-temp]

PROPAGANDA TIME !!!!!!!!

i’ve got an entry for @transfemswagbracket’s oc thingy !!!! this is my girl jeanette !! jeanette wheeler's a dumb-as-bricks country girl, since relocated to the city. the story she's set in takes place in the 20s, so she is now an inhabitant of what is functionally 1925 chicago.

while jeanette is a southern bumpkin, she does come from money. her mother's grandmother established an onion farm, which blossomed into a near monopoly on the onion market with the brand "Wheelhouse Onions."

on her 19th birthday, october 26th (yes she's a scorpio), she was drafted into ww1 and fought for a year on the frontlines, enduring all of the trauma that comes with that. at 11:00 am on november 11th, the treaty of versailles was signed and jeanette, still going by her deadname, began preparations to go home.

home was a whole new fight, unfortunately. she came back, a changed person, and greeted her parents who seemed as though nothing in the world had changed. home didn't feel like home after that. so, in the middle of the night, she left without even a note.

she took her bags and relocated to the big city, finding a cheap apartment to stay in and a weed dealer to keep her head in its place. she hasn’t talked to her parents since. for all they know, their son is dead (irony).

after some time living alone and all but isolating herself, the thought finally hit her that "oh, maybe i'm a woman actually .... that sounds rad" so she transitioned !! woo !!!!

more time goes by and she's still sad and lonely but she's a girl now at least ! recent developments include: almost getting drugged and kidnapped, making a small group of friends to get up to mischief with, doing a full send premeditated murder as a solo mish, realizing she gets to be a lesbian, and getting a slime girl gf <3

anyways that's all i've got please please please vote jeanette for president she's soooooo sad and cute she deserves it 🥺🥺🥺🥺 thank you for reading i love you bye <3

(art credit: 1st one is a picrew using makowka character maker II, 2nd one is by my friend @vikrumdarum, 3rd is by my friend @stoneware <3 ty very much 4 the good art ily mwah)

[m0srael]

I am practically falling all over myself with excitement that you’re taking prompts. I made these picrews using this link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/194056.

I trust you implicitly to create something that I will love all the way to my toes, all I ask for is a happy ending ❤️❤️❤️

Do you ever think about that split-second moment before you kiss someone for the first time? The nerves, the excitement, the longing. Harry does.

Sweet Ali, for you: 600 words of steamy first kiss inspired by this prompt!! You are the absolute queen of my heart vibes and I tried my best to achieve even 1/100th of your brilliance. A big smooch to @softlystarstruck for the vibe check on this one.

Read my other picrew drabbles here and send me an ask to prompt your own!

Surrender

Harry braces himself against the wall with one hand, the exposed brick rough against his palm. This close, he can smell Draco’s cologne—surprisingly subtle and earthy, layered over the salt-warmth of his flushed skin and sharpened by cigarette smoke. It overwhelms his senses and he feels dizzy, but that might just be the alcohol.

It might just be Draco.

Draco’s hair is like spun gold, dark with sweat and slicked back from where he’s been shoving his fingers through it. He lets his head fall back against the wall and the gentle impact sends a lock of blond hair falling onto his forehead to kiss the arch of a pale brow. The jacket of his Auror uniform is open over a thin white t-shirt, also damp with sweat. He’s breathing hard.

Harry leans in a fraction further, unconsciously, as though being pulled toward Draco by some inscrutable magnetism. Opposites attract, Neville had said, shrugging. Only, Harry and Draco are more alike than he had ever realized. Not magnetism, then. Gravity. He’s certainly been caught in Draco’s orbit for as long as he can remember.

Draco sways forward to meet Harry, his body bowing off the wall and his hips pressing carefully, hesitantly against Harry’s. He pulls back almost immediately, as though he’s afraid of the force of his own desire, but Harry chases the sensation, surging forward, consciously this time.

Harry slides his free hand around the side of Draco’s pale throat at the same time that his chest presses against Draco’s. Draco’s pulse flutters under his palm and he can feel Draco’s rib cage expanding and contracting rapidly in time with his own.

The air around them is cold, and Harry is distantly aware of the low murmur of voices, but all he can think about is the delirious heat flooding his body and the sound of Draco’s breathing growing more ragged by the second.

Draco is slightly taller, so Harry has to tip his head back and rock up onto the balls of his feet, and suddenly whatever space existed between his lips and Draco’s is nearly gone.

With one small hand, Draco clutches Harry close by the lapel of his leather jacket. The other slips under the hem of Harry’s shirt, cool fingers curling right into Harry’s overheated skin. Harry fails to stifle the breath that punches out of him.

He feels more than sees Draco’s lips turn up into a crooked smirk, and his heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of his chest.

Harry let’s his mouth fall open slightly, and when he darts his tongue out to wet his lips Draco makes a small, needy sound in the back of his throat, and Harry wants. He wants so fiercely that he can practically taste it.

Draco tips his head forward, his eyes closed, but Harry doesn’t kiss him. Not yet.

He wants to sit in this moment just a little longer, to sink into the yearning that has simmered deep inside of him for months and that is right now boiling over and thrumming through every one of his veins.

This is a feeling Harry has so rarely experienced—the heady satisfaction of getting exactly what he wants, with no caveats or reservations. He’s stunned that after months of longing, of believing that Draco could never want him in return, that he could never be good enough, he’s here. A breath away from all that he desires.

It feels illicit, like he’s getting away with something. It feels incredible.

“Scared…Potter?” Draco mumbles, his lips almost-but-not-quite moving against Harry’s. He says it gently, no hint of teasing in his voice. Like he’s genuinely asking—are you scared of me? Of this?

Harry moves his hand from the wall to cradle Draco’s face. He ghosts his thumb over Draco’s bottom lip, pleased when Draco leans into the caress. He’s so pliant and sweet, and Harry can’t believe it’s all for him.

“No,” he says, honestly, and finally, finally surrenders to the kiss.

[tmmyhug]

i dont understand nfts on a technical level bc who does but i'm also completely baffled by them on like a practical and emotional level.. if you tell me people are spending hundreds of thousands of dollars to claim ownership of art pieces via sketchy cryptocurrencies, yeah i think it's dumb but i can at least, like, conceptualize that. then if you pull up opensea top rankings and show me the art and it's all like. autogenerated monkey picrews and. rainbow pixel bricks. ? you've lost me..?? huh. ..is this supposed to be art. ???? wh

[animedaddymilkers]

Name: Asami Senju

Age: approx 26//1 year younger than Kakashi

Pronouns: she/they

Physical Description: 4'10, Short, long white hair, usually mostly down with two space buns, maroon red eyes, red face markings, thicc and built like a brick shit house, resting bitch face

Shipping: Obito, Kakashi in very specific circumstances, Taiyo, and you!💚

Requests: Open! Smut, fluff, angst, Asami would be pleased to meet you! (x character or x reader)

Falling in love with Asami is... Slow, cautious, pining, hands brushing, emotional confessions, lifelong bond

Here's a Playlist that fits that!

(pictures under the cut!)

Backstory: The granddaughter of the second hokage, Tobirama, Asami has a lot to live up to, pushed beyond limits any child should have to endure. During such instance, she accidentally killed her father (who was very likely to be the 4th hokage) while he was trying to teach her forbidden jutsu. Because of this, most of the village has ostracized her, including her mother. Though most don't know the whole truth, as knowing that the would-be 4th hokage was teaching forbidden jutsu to a 6 year old would probably piss off a lot of people and soil the Senju name.

Growing up, she had a schoolgirl crush on Obito. Nowadays she finds contentment in pouring herself into missions, rarely ever in the village, hating the scene of the Senju complex empty besides her, though she does do the upkeep in hopes that one day there will be life back in the complex. Most who are close to her are convinced she's on the track to hokage as her grandfather (and father) was, but Asami doesn't quite like a lot of things the village does and isn't particularly fond of the idea of leading *everyone*, especially when a large portion of the village thinks she's a murderer.

Most of her life is controlled by her mother, her family name, and the 3rd hokage. She hasn't made a decision about her life beyond what to eat for dinner in so many years, she wouldn't know how to at this point. She's rude and standoffish when first meeting people, rather aggressive, but once acquainted she's rather mellow and silent.

Here's a link to my other Naruto OC, Taiyo Shiranui!

(picrews are a rough idea, official art coming soon!)

[yandere-daydreams]

Requests open tomorrow, but tonight, I plan on being as selfish as possible. No one asked for this, no one wanted it, and yet, I give you all some of my favorite Minecraft Mobs as Modern Yanderes. 

TW: Emotional Manipulation, Stalking and Kidnapping. 

Picrews: Creeper, Zombie, Skeleton, and Enderman. 

Type: Creeper

Name: Everett Warrens

Bio:

~He tries to look tough, but don’t be fooled. This man is the softest of them all.

~Everett is definitely an Obsessive, in terms of how much he needs to be around you alone. He’ll try to push you away, at first, to cross his arms and grit his teeth and go on for hours about how he doesn’t need anyone else, but all the complaining in the world won’t stop him from gravitating to your side. Not that he tries to keep himself away, after a while. 

~It’s awful, how many different sides of him you bring out. He swears you’re a breath of fresh air, something to help him calm down and relax, but for all his promises and rationalizations, he can be so… explosive, when you’re around. It’s directed outwardly, most of the time, towards a stranger he’s deemed a threat or a friend of yours he doesn’t care for, but regardless of the reason, you’re always pressed to his side and you always bear the brunt of his anger. He’ll never stop asking why you flinch whenever he yells, though.

~After his initial aversion wears off (and before it does, really), you’ll never be apart from him. He puts a lot of value on physical affection, so even when you’re scared and crying and he knows he’s the cause, he’ll still be pressed into your side, refusing to acknowledge your need for space. Everett wants to be near you, so you have to want to be near him, right? He’d just be so angry if he found out you didn’t, and you don't want him to be angry, do you?

~Look at that face. He’s a vegan. Probably has a garden or some shit. Fucking vegan.

~He cares about you, but he can’t express it, he refuses to express it. He doesn’t know how and he’s not going to try, leaving you desperately attempting to figure out whether he wants to kiss you or kill you, that day. But, as long as you love him and trust him and never leave him, things should be fine, you should be fine. Or… you’ll be fine until his next temper tantrum, at least. 

Type: Skeleton

Name: Riley Delgado

Bio:

~You’ll like him, that’s the worst part. He just seems like a really, really good kid. 

~For all intents and purposes, Riley is one of the more normal Yanderes. A little off, a little quiet, but it’s nothing you can’t write off as your nervous friend being… nervous, for lack of a better way to put it. He seems to operate at a respectful distance, to let you live your life while he focuses on his own. He seems to, of course. You should know how these things tend to go, by now. 

~Riley is slow to approach you. He waits and watches, learning and looking for any weak spots you might have before starting to consider how he might be able to exploit them. It’s a meticulous process, for him, one that could take days, weeks, months depending on how private you insist on being, but don’t worry. It’s all worth it, in the end, when he gets to see how bright your smile is when you realize just how well the two of you get along, after all his hard work.

~Gaslighting will be big in your relationship. He positions himself as your shoulder to cry on, the only support you’ll ever need. Everyone else is wrong, by default, everyone else is bad. They’re the ones hurting you, not Riley, never Riley, he couldn’t if he wanted to. Even if you can find a fault in everyone else, he’s impeccable. He doesn’t have to isolate you, you’ll do it on your own, pushing everyone else away and relying more and more on him. I mean, why wouldn’t you? Riley’s the only person you can really trust, he’s said so himself. And Riley has never been wrong.

~That’s not to say he’ll never take a more direct route, though. Once he’s sure you rely on him, he’ll let his possessive side shine through, even if he’s still subtle about it. He doesn’t want to push you away, but he lets himself indulge, lets himself get greedy. Touches only bordering on platonic, comments that don’t seem so friendly… little things, just to reinforce how much you need him. How much he needs you, too.

~He’s on the clumsier side. It wouldn’t be bad on its own, but mixed with a passion for archery and a love for the sharpest arrows he can find, the end result is a little problematic. 

~Don’t struggle, and everything should be fine. Riley is controlling, manipulative, but he’s not cruel. He doesn’t want to make you miserable, but he’s hyper-aware of his ability to do so, proud of it, even. It’s why resistance is so futile. By the time you decide to test his patience, he’ll probably be itching to see how much he can really take from you.

Type: Zombie

Name: Ezra Steele

Bio: 

~Terrible. Awful. The worst. He can be blown away by a strong breeze, and yet, you’re the one in his basement. 

~The biggest creep of the bunch, absolutely. Chances are, you’ve only had a handful (most likely less) before he decides he’s head over heels, whole-heartedly, completely in love. He thinks you’re just the cutest! He doesn’t know how anyone manages to hold himself back when they’re infatuated, and he certainly isn’t going to try. You’ll know that better than most, by the end of it. Just… trust me. You will.

~What he does could almost be called stalking, if you’re generous. He hits all the major milestones you’d expect, but he makes no attempt to hide his intentions. In fact, it wouldn’t be wrong to say he wants you to know he’s there, whether that acknowledgment comes in the form of a note left in your closet, thanking you for the garments he ‘borrowed’, or on the rare occasions he cooks for you, letting you find whatever you’ve been craving ready and waiting by the time you come home. He’d like to think you appreciate him, despite how quickly you discard anything he makes.

~Probably leaves lingerie on your doorstep. He’s gross, like that. His ‘gifts’ will only get worse if you bother to take it inside. 

~Ezra isn’t one for planning, but luckily, he doesn’t shy away from violence, usually leaning towards the path of least resistance. If you struggle when he thinks it’s time to ‘take the next step’ in your relationship, then so be it, he knows you’ve always been so shy about these things. A loose brick is just as good as any proper sedative, in his opinion, even if you always seem so fussy when you wake up.

~He’s that vile mixture of delusional and terribly apathetic. He’ll go on and on about how much he loves you, how happy the two of you are together, but that doesn’t stop him from going whatever he has to urge to, regardless of how you feel about it. Just try not to complain too much, when it comes to the way he treats you. Ezra tends to fall out of love as quickly as he falls into it.

Type: Enderman

Name: Zacharia Garcia

Bio: 

~He’s a sweetheart, I promise. He’ll kidnap you then cry when you yell at him, but I promise, he’s a sweetheart.

~It helps that he's very, very lucid. He knows his feelings are more intense than they should be, but as much as he tries to push them down, they keep bubbling up, boiling over, resurfacing stronger and darker than ever before. As much as he tries to think rationally and keep you as far from him as possible, he breaks as soon as he sees your smile or hears your laugh, hell, the right look could make him fall apart. It’s almost funny, how the smallest thing can make a grown man shatter like a pane of glass. 

~He’s harsh with himself, but Zacharia’s nothing but gentle, when it comes to. Regardless of how mad you make him, what you yell or how loudly you scream, the most he’ll do is hush you and tighten your restraints, only using a gag when he can’t stand to hear another word. It’s selfish of him, really. He doesn’t want to think of your relationship as anything less than perfect, so he does his best to get it as close as possible. Of course, his standards waver from time to time, but that’s only natural. You can hardly hold it against him. 

~The only thing that makes him angry, really angry, is violence. You can hit him, tear up your room, rip one of the many, many gifts he’s brought home for you to shreds, but as long as it’s physical and messy and unignorable, it’ll set him off. The most you can do is hide and hope he blows off some steam before confronting you. He doesn’t expect you to be happy, but he can’t stand the idea that you’re not trying just as hard as he is to make this work. It's just rude, honestly. 

~Those glasses are useless, by the way, he hasn’t had his prescription checked in years. If you ever ask him to read something, he’ll probably pretend to scan over the same page for a few minutes before handing it back and whining until you read it to him.

~He’s like a well-trained pet. He might be intimidating, at first, but as soon as you show him some love and prove you can behave, the only thing he ever wants to do is be with you. And if you can’t make the first step… he’ll deal with it. He’s never been the affectionate type, but he’s sure that if he proves he can take care of you, you’ll have to come around, eventually. Even if he has to make an effort to persuade you, from time to time.

[windscattered]

Adriano’s bandmates in 50 Ugly Rats.

Alex (picrew) is the keyboardist, soundboardist and backup vocalist. Trans woman. Writes lyrics with Adriano and composes their songs. Hard femme af. Does make up tutorials on youtube. When she started transitioning, the rest of the band haven’t let her lift heavy things and she’s living for it.

Brick (picrew) is the bassist and backup vocalist. Agender. Tallest of the band and has struggled a lot about looking so masculine. Adriano used to go to the gym with them when Adriano was still trying to gain muscle. Recovering alcoholic. Doesn’t talk much. Can do a great metal growl and can sing well, but they’re too shy to sing unless someone’s singing over them.

Derek (picrew) is the drummer. Genderfuid. Absolutely does that thing where he drums his fingers on tables and hates himself for it. Steals borrows Alex’s make up and sucks at using them. Sometimes acts as a model on Alex’s youtube channel.

[loptyrs-moved]

Can you talk more abt ur fandoms ocs? I like your writing a lot and would like to know more abt em

Oh my goodness I’m 🥺🥺🥺🥺 you’re SO sweet thank you!

Well, I have quite a few and some have their own deeper lore stories that go with them. If you guys want more information on them, I can do separate posts on all of them. But Here they are! I’m so excited to share my babies with you!

More is under the cut. The Picrew I used is here.

Ikemen Revolution

Black Army Side

Corrin Fukui

Age: Appears to be in mid-early twenties

Hair: Brick white

Eyes: Blood Red

Height: 4′11

Any other Qualities:

Draconic features -- She’s literally a dragon but not by nature

Curved Opalescent Horns

Shimmery opalescent tail

Wings that also shimmer in the light

retractable?

Pointed ears

Easily frightened by loud noises and sudden movements

stunted growth

Hoards blankets and comfort items

writes in a journal every day 

its one luka got for her and she refuses to write in anything else. she pours her heart out on the pages, and all her memories

she had a brother! but he passed away because of the magic tower :(

turns into a gIANT DRAGON 

ICE ICE BREATH BABY

Was found by Luka while on a patrol near the forbidden forest, lost and afraid, so she was taken in

Had amnesia at first

She actually is an experiment of Amon and she managed to escape

Excellent at sewing and gardening

Sufficient with baking

She’s for Luka! The way they fell for each other was a slow, gradual trust, and mutual understanding. She saw him as a man, as he was, and nothing else.

Sometimes is called Corri

gentle hearted and innocent

but not as innocent as you’d think 

she’s a dragon, and she’s a greedy little one

Ophelia Dae

Age: 24

Hair: Crimson red

Eyes: Jade green

Height: 5′8

Any other Qualities:

A skilled swordsman, and one of the Chosen Thirteen

9 of Spades baybeee

While she is more accustomed to short swords and sabers, Phelia is a magic user! But she isn’t really in agreement with Ray with his stance on magic

BOMBASTIC AS HELL

BISEXUAL

“Is he bothering you Queen?”

Trans

Was friends with Ray and Fenrir while in school, and was just as much of a hellraiser as them

she was there when the day things went dark happened and was almost taken but that day is a blur for her

phelia REFUSES to talk about it

she still has nightmares

raised by a single mother

TRIVIA! She was an old fire emblem oc i had and she was the daughter of Arvis -- so if you squint when she uses magic you’ll see Valflame

joined the army probably because Fenrir was too, and she was inspired by him 

she joined for her own reasons but he made it easier for her to do it too

his passion was what made her fall for him in the first place

has a personal vendetta against the magic tower for what they did to her and her friends

AND CORRIN JEEZ

will sacrifice herself if necessary to the cause

PROBABLY HAS ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF IT

Bruh girl

Amira Nasiri

Age: 22

Hair: Chocolate brown

Eyes: Turquoise blue

Height: 5′3

Any other qualities:

My version of Alice! Difference is that she’s Persian

That’s it

She’s just as spunky as Alice 

however she responds with being called Alice a little different

she’s adamant about being called Amira

At some point she just accepts Seth does it to distance himself

also an avid baker like alice

pISTACIOS

BAKLAVA

Amira is just Alice except she’s just my take on her. 

She has the same vibrant spirit as Alice

and I personally consider Seth the canon route for REASONS

just ask me why fjgdfgjksd

Red Army Side

Azul Flores

Age: 25

Hair: Raven black

Eyes: Wisteria purple

Height: 5′0

Any Other Qualities:

An old friend of the Queen of Hearts

like she met him when she was 8 years old

fought his bullies when they would give him a hard time when he was a kid

they dated for a WHILE

did NOT work out

HARD CHILDHOOD

Ambitious, hard working young woman who was married into a high standing family on the Red side. Her mother was a teacher and gained the attention of one of the Chosen Thirteen on that side, and got married

Azul is NOT the officer’s daughter. She’s his step daughter

Has had extensive studies on the History of Cradle and of the Red Territory.

Wants to be a Cradle Historian

Works for the Red Army as a personal assistant to the queen

UNINTENTIONAL

THEY ACTUALLY CANT STAND EACH OTHER

Unless....

Look their story is very dramatic and it hurts me every day so please stay tuned with them. 

CUT THROAT BITCH

YOUR DEVIL

DEMON

Heckles Jonah like its her job — she knows him better than anyone elsd, if anyone knows his bs, its her

Bad resting bitch face

Actually really shy, and quiet when in different surroundings

A sweetheart and will cut a bitch for you once she knows u

She is perhaps one of the most transparent, honest, genuine person. there is no bullshit with her. she will tell you her honest thoughts with you

Cerise Nam

Age: 19

Hair: Berry Pink

Eyes: Petal Pink

Height: 5′2

Any other qualities:

Her mom came to Cradle from a far off place, and set up a food and pastry shop in the Central Quarter. Met her dad. Been there since

They live in Black Territory

She works for her parents and works with the pastries/desserts

loves making desserts from where her parents are from

She knows the Queen of Hearts VERY well since she makes the best mille feuille

Got a job from him actually, and works for the Red Army Headquarters kitchen

Loves to cook and bake!

a little naïve, but she’s a realist

youngest of FIVE kids!!

Morning girl

She may be petite but she can HEAFT heavy bags of flour/rice/dry goods

Met Zero by accident, and crashed into him while in town

love at first sight for her. how can you fault her?

she thinks he’s dreamy... and sweet...

does she flirt with him a little? Cerise can’t help it...

She and Zero have more of a hidden relationship because she fears her parents won’t approve

family stuff -- and she understands

RED ARMY OFFICER?? BLACK TERRITORY GIRL

look im cheesy

dont worry it works out

zero has to consider himself and his own personal stuff too so its a little difficult 

Non Army Suitor(s)

Lucile Lidell

Age: 20

Hair: Straw blonde

Eyes: Aqua blue

Height: 5'1

Any other qualities:

She and her twin, Noelle, are the actual descendants of the original Alice

Inherited unusual hairpins that were from cradle

More of the 'modern woman stuck in the wrong time' kind of gal

Rebellious

Noelle and Luci: partners in crime

Short skirts galore

Does not give a singular shit of what MEN think of her

Wants to be taken seriously

Sometimes acts like an airhead in order to get attention. She's actually pretty somber as a person and prefers to be in the background as her sister takes the stage

loves her sister more than anyone else in the world

When she and Noelle fall into Cradle, they kind of hightail it and live in the woods with Harr and Loki

Sticks with Harr since he's literally the least threatening man ever

First man to feel safe around

"Excuse me he said NO pickles!"

Will cut a bitch for him, or use magic -- luci will hurt someone if they even think a bout looking at him wrong

Loves to make clothes

'I mended the holes in your cloak for you...' 'Bye Harr, be safe and have a good day.'

'Welcome home, I missed you.'

Puts up a tough girl front but she's just a big softie just like him

Doesn't realize she has a crush on him until shit starts to hit the fan

Actually very vanilla tbh but wants to spoil her bf

Ikemen Sengoku

Ito Tsunade

Age: 26

Hair: Straw Blonde

Eyes: Molten Gold

Height: 5′5

Any Other Qualities:

Graduate student at the same university as Sasuke 

got stuck in the storm with him and Mai, and was tossed into the sengoku era

but she got separated from Mai

Met Shingen first much to her luck because uh.... lets say Tsunade is aint the sharpest tool in the shed

HEAD EMPTY

ZERO THOUGHTS

AIRHEAD

her aesthetic when she gets there?

TITS OUT

BIG HONKERS BIG TATA

HOT

her head might be empty but her tits are fat and they will protect you

Music nerd — loves traditional Japanese instruments, especially the difficult ones

Specializes in girl metal in modern day

eventually proves herself and plays some sick chords for the takeda/uesegi forces

she has entertained them for now

puts sake away like a monster

when she meets sasuke, she finds comfort in the fact he’s also lost with her, so she clings

asks him how to protect herself from shingen bc he’s horny lolol

genuinely thinks sasuke is hilarious

also does NOT realize she’s in love with him until the gravest of grave happens

her name was UNINTENTIONAL

Aibana Hinata

Age: Presents in his early-mid twenties

Hair: Black Midnight

Eyes: Haunting gold and vermillion

Height: 5'3

Any other qualities: 

The concubine of Nobunaga

Please know I made him a long while before the other guy was dropped so I’m just gonna offer this little gay boy

Nobunaga bought him from a brothel after being so intrigued by him. Hina entertained him so well that he was set for life

A RIGHT SNARKY BASTARD

HE KNOWS HE’S PRETTY AND CAN GET AWAY WITH MURDER

Likes to challenge Nobunaga in battles of wits

board games

debate as pillow talk

swordplay if the lords will entertain him enough

Bisexual as hell

Gender? Don’t know her

He uses all pronouns

True pronoun: princess

ONLY EXISTS IN A UNIVERSE WHERE THERE IS MAI

Nobunaga/Mai/Hinata........

Unless.......

Smart, and educated

former geisha

he can read! and write!

LOVE FUCKING WITH HIDEYOSHI

if there is mai, he would bond with her like no one else

he would be her best friend

her confidant

genuinely adores her

even if she is pursuing nobunaga, he doesn’t resent her ... he just wishes that she would find room in her heart for him too

puts up a tough exterior

a softie.....

[degenerate-yandere]

Damon & Ray Headcanons

Woo boy this took awhile to get through, but here it is! Some general Headcanons for my boys to lay some groundwork, I plan on doing some fics for them very soon.

Ray has some double-ups from a previous post, simply because I wanted this to be the comprehensive post with all their information in one spot, if that makes sense.

Anyway I hope y’all enjoy! This was partly for the beautiful @ramwrites​ who wanted some Damon content, and who am I to deny the Queen’s request.

Picrews used: Damon, Ray.

TW: Abuse, kidnapping, yandere, violence, implied murder, drugging, non-consensual touching, stalking, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour

Damon:

Attraction + Pursuit

Disgust - an ample word to describe Damon’s initial reaction to these newfound emotions that threaten the fortitude of his petrified heart. Every time you cause his breath to hitch in his throat, he’s reminded of just how damn vulnerable you make him; a highly unwelcomed source of insecurity. If Damon hates one thing, it’s being undermined.

As a result of his mounting insecurity, it can be expected that his infatuation, at first, manifests as resentment. Damon will be especially cruel to you - intimidation, bullying, and public degradation are all outlets of his internal frustration. You’ll think he hates you, and maybe a part of him does. He doesn’t feel guilty, no; this is all your fault, you’re the one who makes him feel this way - It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic.

This torment is short-lived however. It’ll come as an epiphany as he towers over you, looking down at your comparatively fragile form. You are pathetic, but more importantly, he isn’t. Damon’s bigger and stronger than you, so what’s stopping him from simply making you his? He’s quick to surmise that he’s entitled to you. All this stems from Damon’s immense ego; an inflated sense of superiority, and a fragile one at that.

As far Damon’s concerned, you need him as much as he needs you. First-hand experience has shown him just how weak and defenseless you are. You need him to keep you safe. He’ll protect you, he likes to keep what’s his intact - unknowing to the fact he’s the exact thing you need to be protected from.

It’ll give you whiplash how fast Damon’s demeanor seems to change. You’ll be lucky to receive a grumbled apology for his past actions. He’ll loom above you nigh constantly, glaring daggers at any who’d approach you. His intimidating presence is enough on its own to isolate you.

It’s important to note Damon’s utter lack of experience. Sure, he’s had numerous flings in the past, but this - this is different. Romance is an alien concept, and courtship is an incomprehensible endeavor. But he tries - he makes an effort to lower his gravelly voice, relaxing his body language and resisting the urge to belittle you. He’ll bring you odd gifts and trinkets, shoving them into your hands with no explanation other than a grunt. You doubt they were acquired through wholesome means. Damon will grumble compliments, ones that, when accompanied with his threatening voice and vulgar verbiage, are often perceived as thinly-veiled threats. He tries, he really does - but his patience is easily waned.

Any inquiries you raise about his insistence on shadowing you are met with a scoff and a disingenuous insult;

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.”

No matter how many times you ask him, his answer will always be the same - nonchalant and unsatisfactory.

He’ll grow tired if you continue to fear him or try to avoid him. You should be grateful. Damon will resort to threats and manipulation to force you to accept his advances.

Anyone he deems a threat, whether that be individuals he believes might harm you, partners, exes, or even people who simply stare at you too long, will all meet a similar fate - broken, bloodied, and barely recognizable. He likes to take pictures of his hard work, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride as he looks through them. Maybe he’d show you one day, to let you know just how grateful you should be that he’s keeping you safe. There’s a wicked glee he derives from pummeling people for your sake.

Kidnapping is an inevitability; the urge to protect you from those who’d dare to take you away from him, and his selfish desire to own you, will make that decision a definite one.

It’ll be easy - cornering you in some isolated spot late at night, caging you against his built body as he tells you just how long he’s been waiting for this. He’ll overpower you with his abundant brute strength, remarking that the more you struggle, the rougher he’ll be - a promise he makes well on. It’s hard to deny his joy of having you struggle against him, completely at his mercy. It serves as an omen of the life that awaits you.

Post-kidnapping + Punishment

Damon’s captivity is stern and demanding. There is no ’grace period’, no time allocated to allow you to grow somewhat accustomed with the nightmare you’ve been thrust into.

His expectations, as demeaning as they are, are made evident from the beginning. You are to accept his affections, no matter how forceful or rough. You will show him ample appreciation for protecting you, an act which he considers merciful.

Damon is quick to ‘correct your mistakes’, and ensures you never make them again. There’s no restraint, no mercy - but he likes it when you beg anyway.

Punishments are cruel and severe; Taunting you as he holds the cindering end of his cigarette inches above your skin, allowing you to feel the heat emanating from it as you beg and plead - cut short as he presses it against your flesh. Isolation, food deprivation, impassioned beatings -  all serving as painful reprimands.

Behind his anger and frustration lies an undeniable sadistic enthusiasm as he punishes you. Damon loves putting you in your place, he adores holding immense power over you.

Bite marks litter your body, purple patches coat your neck - Damon’s constant, little ‘reminders’ to show you who you belong to. His affection is equally barbaric; his touches leave bruises, his kisses result in bloodied, swollen lips.

Don’t squirm when he forces you onto his lap to place kisses along your shoulder, don’t cry when he tightly embraces you in bed, and maybe he’ll be gentle.

His ego is a possible source of exploitation - worship him, tell him how big and strong he is, confess your adoration, and he may just let his guard down.

If you ever consider escape, pray he never finds you. Damon will yank you by the hair as he tells you just how much you’ve fucked up. A series of harsh punishments follow, to ingrain the fact that you belong to him, that you can never escape him. There’s no painkillers, no warning or care as he begins applying painful pressure to your legs. He’ll ensure you can’t run from him again.

Non-Yandere Headcanons 

Damon found work as a bouncer for a few years, until he was abruptly fired for hospitalizing a rowdy client. As a result, he’s resorted to… less than ethical means of income.

Damon’s birthday is on March 27th, though he isn’t one to celebrate it.

You bet this dude has a motorcycle, and he treats it like his child.

Damon is built like an absolute tank - a brick wall of raw, hard power. He’s proud of his stature.

He tastes, and often smells, like booze and cigarettes - indicative of his poor habits.

Ray:

Attraction + Pursuit

Ray’s infatuation, a product of a seemingly inconsequential interaction, is quick to fester into enraptured obsession. He’ll form an emotional dependency, a suffocating need, toward the poor soul he’s latched onto.

He’ll find a desire to satiate his growing obsession, to satisfy the numerous questions about you that weigh constantly on his mind. He can’t approach you directly, the very thought makes his heart threaten to leap from his chest. Instead, he’ll opt to stalk you, just so he can learn everything about you. He’ll become acquainted with your place of residence, rifling through your belongings - perhaps even taking some to keep for himself. You could’ve sworn you had more pairs of underwear.

The more he finds out about you, the more ultimately enamoured he becomes. Ray can’t stop thinking about you. That’s when the drawings begin. They start as idle sketches, cute doodles accompanied by scribbled love-hearts. It isn’t long before Ray is struck with grander inspiration, your likeness becoming a mainstake in his manga. He draws panels upon panels of his love-sick longing; taking you on the romantic dates you deserve, heartfelt confessions of love which reek of shoujo cliche, tender kisses and gentle touches. They line the walls of his room, accompanied by the various photographs he’s taken of you - for reference, of course.

That isn’t the extent of his collection, however. Ray keeps a private stash; the outlet for his more salacious desires. He feels somewhat bad about drawing your perfect form in such disgusting, compromising scenarios, but his filthy needs overpower his consideration.

Ray’s rationality, as middling as it is, only erodes as his obsession grows more unrestrained. He’ll be increasingly emboldened, sending you love letters and anonymous text messages with such detail that they establish…. troubling implications.

His gnawing need for you only grows further. It keeps him up at night, his fingers shakely caressing your clothes desperately hoping it’ll bring him comfort. He wants to rip his hair out sometimes - he just wants to touch you, he wants to love you, he needs you more than anything.

Ray isn’t a violent man, but if anyone threatens his one-sided relationship with you, well - he can’t let that happen. A baseball bat, and the lovestruck conviction to swing it, work wonders at remeding his problems. He doesn’t mean to hurt anyone, he frantically tells himself as he washes the blood from his hands.

He eventually reaches the conclusion that he has to take you. The very thought of you being swept away, abandoning him, is enough to make his decision a certainty. Ray assures himself that it’s what’s best for you - he can take care of you, keep you safe and secure.

Unlike Damon, Ray goes about his kidnapping with significantly more finesse. He can’t stand the thought of hurting you - he’ll instead opt to slip something in your drink, or ambush you with a strong-smelling rag against your nose.

Post-kidnapping + Punishment

You’ll wake up, gagged and handcuffed to his bedpost; This marks the beginning of your ‘relationship’. He’ll try desperately to tell you he won't hurt you, to convince you that he just wants to help you. His fingers seem magnetised to you, itching and yearning to feel you beneath them. The blazing blush across his face, the bashful grin adorning his lips, and the utterly deranged adoration that speckle his eyes betray just how content he is.

He’ll be quick to show you just how much he loves you; flicking through all his artwork of you, reaffirming that it’s all been for you.

Ray is patient, understanding, but completely overbearing. When he sees how terrified you are he can’t help but coil himself around you and mutter reassurances against your skin - even if he’s the very source of your fear

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay. I-I have you now, you d-don’t have to be afraid anymore”.

It won’t take long to realize just how needy he is - his touch-starved skin rarely leaving yours. He relishes in your sweet touch, nuzzling against you as his arms wrap around you, his fingers exploring every inch of your flesh. Whines and groans escape him whenever he’s deprived of your addictive touch.

Ray’s insists on feeding you, sitting you on his lap as he plays video games or draws, pulling you close and burying his nose in your hair as he drifts to sleep. His kisses, as rare as they are without your consent, are sloppy and inexperienced - but laced with such a raw, unrestrained need.

Lives for your praise and validation, outright begging for it. His heart swells at any crumbs he can extrapolate. You stared at his artwork? You must love it! You didn’t flinch away when he kissed you? You must want him just as much as he wants you.

Ray isn’t one for punishments, he couldn’t bring himself to willingly hurt his precious darling. If you grow violent or reckless, he’ll simply pin you down and wait out your little outburst.

But if he ever fears you may leave him, or if you ever manage to escape and he catches you - he has no quarrels about doing anything if it means you can’t escape. The thought of you abandoning him makes him completely unhinged. Ray’ll do whatever it takes, even if it means hurting you. He’ll cry and scream, begging you to tell him why ‘you’re making him do this’.

“Y-You can’t leave me! Don’t you get it?! I-I can’t live without you!”

Non-yandere Headcanons

Ray’s birthday is on October 10th, although he never usually has anyone to celebrate with...

Despite his shut-in nature, Ray likes to remain fit. He frequents the gym at his apartment complex (at night of course; less people). He did martial arts during his teenage years, and reluctantly joined his school’s volleyball team. This results in a lean physique comprised of sinewy, surprisingly strong muscles - all the better to restrain protect his darling.

He makes money from his web manga and commissions, as well as working part time at a videogame store. Has a surprisingly good work ethic.

Survives off the college diet of caffeine and ramen - but he’ll try his damndest to change it if his darling is less than receptive of his refined cuisine.

His hygiene… isn’t the best. He’s a firm believer that a shower can be replaced with spraying oneself with copious amounts of cheap, intoxicatingly strong body spray.

[manasilversbittymenagerie]

~Bitty Directory~

A familiar, lone brown bricked building stood before you as you looked at it. You have been by here several times before, and while it isn’t closed completely anymore, its not as like it used to be.

You understand why Mana isn't active anymore even if it breaks your heart, but hey you still can adopt bitties without all of Mana’s services so its not the end of the world. You just hope someday she’ll return, but if she doesn't or cant, well, you wish her the best. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   Mana Silver’s Bitty Menagerie is closed indefinitely for interactions such as match ups, rp requests, and adopt scenarios. Questions about Bitties, the shop and Mana are allowed however! Feel free to send those in and the Mun will try her best but cant promise anything. And ofc, as always, all bitties are totally free and open to adopt without asking! Feel free to also use the bitties, the shop, and even Mana in fanworks (art, fics, etc. etc.) as long as you try to stay true to the characterization of it all and credit back to the og blog (ie here) in some way, and ofc dont take credit of them.  You can click the Blog Buttons below the description or click here to see;

[ The Bitties that are adoptable ] [ Information that you should read before Adopting or Dropping off a Bitty ] [ A directory for quick Links and Resources about the Shop (like other things you can buy and what the shop looks like), the Shop Owner, and the non-adoptable Residents that live there ] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Please note these bitties are completely open to adopt and own and you don't have to ask! But the shop does RP, match up, prompts, and scenarios!

[My icon and all reaction images used in posts are made by Sang‘s picrew]

[ethereousdelirious]

Did I spend the whole day doing nothing only to get a burst of inspiration right before I had to go to bed? Maybe so.

This is for some OCs of mine, vaguely historical-ish steampunk setting. Post-canon, so you don’t have to worry about any plot stuff

Platonic caretaking, horsebacks rides in the rain, fainting etc

More notes under cut

Characters involved are my OCs Gilles, Sterling, and Hewitt. I’m in too much of. a hurry to make Picrews, but a quick overview: Gilles: ~25 y/o Black man, above average height, slender build, shoulder-length dreadlocks Sterling: ~25 y/o dark-skinned mixed race man, tall and broad, shoulder length straight black hair Hewitt: ~25 y/o white man, short and slender-soft, unruly blond curls (like seriously unruly, not just rakishly disheveled)

Final Note: Did a cursory Google search, realized that reality does not always line up with good fiction, and decided “fuck it.” So uh yeah, horses don’t really… work like this, but it’s MY story and I get to forcefully engineer circumstances so my characters have to ride double in the rain while one of them is sick

–

“This is all rather annoying,” Sterling said finally. “What ever are we going to do with a horse?”

Gilles tapped his foot and ran a finger thoughtfully over his bottom lip. “There’s really nowhere we can stay?” he asked, still examining the stable with a dubious frown.

Sterling shook his head. “The train company put up as many people as they could. We just had the misfortune of being at the bottom of the list.”

“Whitney…” Gilles began thoughtfully. “Whitney could keep a horse for us, if we’re not able to sell it right away.”

“Then we buy the horse.” Sterling stepped forward before Gilles could get it into his head to try to pay for anything.

They were summarily seated on the back of a sturdy brown mare and set off down the back road into Fallhille. They were behind schedule, which Sterling knew Gilles hated, and without their luggage. On top of all that, dark clouds had blown in to choke out the sun and Gilles had been reticent and sniffling all morning.

“I do hope Hewitt doesn’t worry too much about us,” Gilles said in Sterling’s ear.

Sterling scoffed, and raised his voice so Gilles could hear him over the steady clip-clop of horse hooves. “I doubt Hewitt even remembers we were supposed to be back today. You know how scattered he is.”

“I suppose.” Gilles fell back and cleared his throat.

After a moment’s silence, Sterling found he could no longer hold his tongue. Gilles was never much of a complainer even in the direst of circumstances, but Sterling very much was. “I can’t believe they didn’t have a single carriage for hire,” he griped. “Not one room for rent. For pity sake, they couldn’t even let us sleep on the train?”

To his surprise, Gilles started to laugh. He wasn’t usually the mocking sort, and Sterling was almost offended before a cold raindrop hit the back of his neck and he realized what exactly it was that Gilles was laughing at.

“I’m sorry,” Gilles said, evidently seeing Sterling bristle. “Do forgive me, it’s just–” The rain picked up, pattering loudly onto the hard-packed dirt road.

“I see,” Sterling said, urging the horse faster. He didn’t want to ride her too hard, but neither did he want to get caught in a rainstorm, especially with Gilles likely coming down with something, if his increased sniveling and throat-clearing were anything to go by.

“What an adventure,” Gilles said. He patted Sterling on the arm. “How romantic.”

“Have you decided to pursue a career as a novelist after all?” Sterling asked, knowing full well that Gilles had made no such commitment and likely never would.

“I do find myself inspired,” Gilles said. “Perhaps we’ll come across a cozy little inn tucked away in the woods and discover that the room we rent has only one bed.”

Sterling was in no mood for games, so he merely laughed. A gentle breeze rattled the leaves on the trees and Sterling was grateful he’d tied his hair back today. Behind him, Gilles shuddered and scooted in closer.

Sterling was starting to wish he’d argued harder with the poor railroad worker tasked with delivering the news that the train needed repairs. Gilles, for all his youthful vigor and commitment to healthful activities, was frequently ill. It was partially his constitution and partially bad luck, especially in reference to the injuries he always found himself sustaining. A jaunt in the cold rain would certainly do his health no favors.

As if to spite Sterling, the wind and the rain only picked up. It was coming down in sheets now, lashing against them at an angle.

“How long have we been riding?” Sterling asked.

There was a silence during which Gilles shifted so he could check his watch. “An hour, with another hour left to go.”

“Lovely.” Sterling sighed through his nose. Gilles leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Sterling’s shoulder. “Take my jacket.” If they hadn’t been riding a horse, Sterling simply would have removed his jacket and draped it over Gilles without so much as a word.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Gilles said, not lifting his head. “We’ll soon be home.”

“You’re shivering.”

“So are you.”

Damn.

They rode on in silence until Sterling gradually became aware that something wasn’t right. At first it was just a slight nagging at the periphery of his mind, something he could easily ignore. It grew more urgent though, this pressing sense that something in his vicinity was wrong somehow, and then Gilles stirred against his back and Sterling realized all at once what the matter was: Gilles was warm. That fact would have been concerning enough on its own, but it was what happened next that made Sterling’s blood run cold. Gilles lifted his head and said in a tone of polite inquiry that would have incited no concern from someone who did not know him quite as well: “Sterling, can we stop for a moment?”

They stopped at once, and Sterling dismounted just in time to stop Gilles from toppling off the mare’s back. It wasn’t a full-on faint, but it was enough to make Sterling’s chest swell with anger at the railroad company and every damned fool who worked for them. Gilles rarely asked for help and he never complained. He must have felt wretched indeed to have asked Sterling to stop. 

“I’m alright,” Gilles said. The careless way he fell to his knees in the mud said otherwise. He hated dirtying his clothes. “I just n-need a moment.”

The sun had just about vanished beyond the horizon, leaving only a few golden-pink streaks in its wake. The sky darkened above them. Gilles shivered and steadied his head in his hands.

Sterling, not wanting to smother Gilles, soothed himself by pacing up and down the length of the horse. She, at least, seemed grateful for the rest. Sterling patted her head absentmindedly.

“Gilles, are you alright?” he asked when his companion showed no sign of moving.

“Quite.” Gilles stood on shaking legs and lurched rather than walked back to the horse.

“I wonder,” Sterling said, helping Gilles onto the mare’s back, “if I should send you off on your own. You certainly could go a lot faster.”

“I’d never allow it,” Gilles said. Though his voice was quiet, his tone was firm.

“Assuming I gave you a choice,” Sterling said. He clambered back aboard the horse and they started off again.

The rain let up when they hit Fallhille’s outer limit, until it was nothing more than a sprinkle when they hit the main road. Gilles coughed, a long, deep fit that made Sterling wince in sympathy.

“I’ll just drop you off at home and take the horse to Dr Bottle,” Sterling said.

“She’ll never let you leave, not at this hour,” Gilles said. He seemed poised to go on but his words gave way to another coughing fit. He took a shuddering breath and cleared his throat. “You’ll have to spend the night.”

“Say hello to Hewitt for me then, won’t you?” Sterling turned the horse down a smaller cobblestone path.

“Mm,” was all that Gilles said. More and more energy seemed to go out of them the closer they got to home, until he had most of his weight pressed into Sterling’s back. Again, fear flared up in Sterling’s chest. Gilles was not a man given to dramatics.

It should have come as no surprise, then, when they reached their cozy little townhouse and Gilles fainted on the steps.

It was such a quick, quiet thing that Sterling nearly missed it. One minute he was tying up the mare with Gilles motionless in his periphery, and the next–

At least Sterling was able to catch his head.

“Hewitt!” he barked as loudly as he dared, not wanting to make a scene. “Hewitt!” Gilles’ face was hot; his whole body was hot. The lamplight cast shadows over the angle of his face, turned his dark skin a hollow pitch-black. “Hewitt!”

Hewitt came out in his dressing gown, Gilles’ little dog Bonbon wrapped up securely in his arms.

The smile vanished from his face in an instant. “Is he alright?”

“Fever,” Sterling said gruffly. “We weren’t able to take the train, as you can see. It’s a long story.”

“Well, let’s get him inside.” Hewitt said Bonbon down and set her back toward the house. Then he knelt.

Gilles’ face twitched. Sterling sighed and looked at Hewitt, who was already distracted. “Erm,” he said, tugging at one of his curls. “Is that a horse?”

“I said it was a long story.”

Gilles rolled over and started to cough again, his whole body working with the force of them. When they finally calmed, he didn’t seem at all confused to find himself curled up on the bricks. “He sat up slowly. “I need to go to bed.”

“I should say so,” Hewitt said. “You’re burning up; I can feel it from here.”

Without waiting for assistance, Gilles started to get to his feet, leaving Sterling scrambling to get an arm around him. “How’s Bonbon?”

“She’ll be happy to have you back.”

Sure enough, Bonbon hopped down from her chair and started to lick at Gilles’ ankle the moment he got inside.

Sterling waited by the doorway. “I can’t stay. I have to deal with the horse.”

Hewitt seemed taken aback by this. “But where will you go?”

“Dr Bottle’s.”

“At least stay and dry off, won’t you?”

“I’ll never want to leave again, and I can’t keep the horse out there all night.” Sterling opened the door and stepped out. “Good night, Hewitt. Good night, Gilles.”

The door slammed shut with a gust of cold air. “Hmph,” said Hewitt, wrapping an arm around Gilles as instinctively as breathing. “So he leaves me with the invalid and rides away into the night with no explanation.”

“Sorry,” Gilles rasped.

Hewitt winced. “Oh, dear. Get to bed at once. Can you manage the stairs on your own? I want to set some water boiling– Oh, but. No, I’ll go with you, actually.”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Gilles promised him. “Before I sleep.”

“Oh , but aren’t you exhausted?” Hewitt said, not able to entirely quell the note of curiosity in his voice. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. And you do need to rest before that fever gets nasty. I’ve seen how you get.” Gilles did not respond as they mounted the stairs.

Hewitt left him there to change his clothes and get into bed with Bonbon, and hurried down the stairs. He waited impatiently for the water to boil and made some weakly-brewed chamomile with an overabundance of honey.

The electric lights were still on and the door was open. Hewitt rounded the corner and smiled. Gilles was sitting up in bed, enthusiastically cooing at Bonbon while simultaneously fending off her attempts to lick his face 

Hewitt set the cup and saucer on the bedside table and hopped onto the bed. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” Gilles rasped. “Thank you.”

Hewitt’s face fell. “I’m not sure you should be talking, with the state you’re in.”

Gilles nodded in agreement. “It’s really not very interesting,” he said, and coughed lightly into his sleeve.

“Well, then.” Hewitt stood and again and planted a kiss on first Bonbon’s head, then Gilles’. “I expect you to come up with a more interesting explanation of events while you’re ill, and explain everything to me once you are recovered.”

Gilles smiled fondly at him. “Alright, Hewitt.”

“I’ll leave to get some rest.” Hewitt turned off the lights and paused in the doorway. “I’m glad you’re back safe. I was worried about you.”

“Well,” said Gilles in a weak, ragged voice. “Rest assured, it’s a very interesting story ”

Hewitt laughed and shut the door.

[movedaccounts-readinfo]

5, 6, and 10?

5. do you have any pets? if so, post a pic!

So I don’t have picutres of all my pets we have four cats and I have a gecko.

Here is a picture of our cat Artimis who’s great grandparents were wild cats, shes a second generation house tammed cat thing

Thats our fireplace and shes on the brick wall. She does this often

6.post a selfie! (if you’re not comfortable, you can use a picrew!) I legit took a photo for this

This is the best of the bunch, me laughing with a nug in my mouth

10.for lgbt self shippers: post your flags! 

I am Gay and Trans!