#oc: reverie

[neonbuck]

i'll always find my way back to you

[arisenreborn]

there's history there, but sometimes it's for the best to leave history behind...

[friberchi]

meow meow

[eydika]

fifth (AND LAST) batch of artfight attacks! > first batch, second batch, third batch, fourth batch

echo (and reverie) for @elemenepee

biker for @iravaid

lachlan for @elemenepee

benjiro for @/tobi20189

lou for @nukbody

matt and james for @/starray and @/feorage

[a-lost-prince]

i downloaded krita and finally did a proper attempt at drawing in it; i think it turned out pretty nice

[arwenkenobi48]

Mini Fanfic Concept: Prince John Meets A Dragon

Starting my beloved dragonsona, Reverie

“Uh, sssire?” “Oh, not now, Hiss, can’t you see I’m busy?” Prince John didn’t even look away from his golden mirror. “Yes, yes, I know, sir, but there’s a…” Sir Hiss stammered nervously. “There’s a what, Hiss? Come on, spit it out!” “There’s a dragon on the castle roof, your majesty.”

The Sheriff of Nottingham stood with Trigger and Nutsy at his side in the middle of the courtyard, staring in open-mouthed alarm at the dragon as it sat coiled around the top of the tallest tower. “Well, criminently! How’re we gon’ get that thing down from the roof?” The dragon’s green eyes peered down sternly at the stout wolf. “I can hear you, you know.”

With a simultaneous squawk of horror, Nutsy and Trigger promptly hid behind their canine commander. “It can talk, Sheriff! It done spoke to us! What we gonna do!?” “Now now, you two, don’t lose yer heads.” This was the worst thing the Sheriff could have said. “Lose our heads!? EEEEEEK!” Nutsy ran for his life. “Get your tail feathers back here, you coward!” Trigger flapped after him. The Sheriff shook his head and facepalmed. “Oh, why’d I even bother?”

While all this was going on, Prince John and Sir Hiss entered the courtyard. “Sheriff, where’s the dragon?” Prince John demanded. “I’m up here!” A strange voice replied. Spreading its massive wings, the dragon glided down from the tower and stood before the astonished villains. “Good afternoon, Prince John. My name is Reverie. I’ve heard about the recent string of robberies in your kingdom and thought you could use a royal guard-dragon. What do you say?”

Prince John’s fur stood on end as he cowered in the presence of this colossal creature. “Oh…mommy…” he began to suck his thumb, but it had barely entered his mouth before he tipped over backwards and fainted, his paws sticking up in the air like a stunned goose. In spite of themselves, Sir Hiss and the Sheriff both laughed at their inept monarch’s predicament. Reverie glanced sheepishly at the two of them. “Oh dear. Was it something I said?”

[pearlousthetic]

rainbow

[soulampsuper]

Reverie 💭

[bhalspawn]

pimk. also:

[goldenmagnolias]

[crtalley]

one of these days i'll have to talk about reverie "my life is over, my world is black, guess me and the ghosts in my skin will be a living undead mess" and lazarus "i've got my shit together and i'm gonna save the world. i'm hiding in a fort made of rx trazodone bottles"

(they're best friends and in love and they've never met irl but rev would kill for laz because they know he'd do the same for anyone. and then they go through the equivalent of meeting your favorite mutual for lunch and realizing someone needs to save this guy from himself)

[neonbuck]

charlie🦊 & reverie🐕 💕✨

[arisenreborn]

hAlp... I'm gonna need like a dating/daily life simulation dlc where we can just make food at home and help the townsfolk with silly dramas and yeah occasionally stave off beasties, and oh let me decorate our house-

[reveluving]

cold little kisses ; yandere!singer x reader

summary: Omar's love knows no bounds.

warnings: s~mut (minors DNI!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

a/n: I LOVE @oncomingnight 's OCs to BITS, but Omar has been haunting me for DAYS. OP if you're reading this, hi!! Quick question; is the man in the original post like someone someone? ‘Cause he now comes to mind whenever I think of him ✋🏼😔 Hope you don't mind me giving this sweetheart a go! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

'But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.' ;

Smut includes: unprotected sex (p in v), cockwarming, slight teasing & marking, drools & sweat, body worship, soft!dom!Omar!

Omar believed you were God's gift at its purest form, and to be the luckiest son of a gun when you bestowed before him that very day?

Absolute miracle.

There was no way he could have wiped the lovestruck smile off his face every morning, waking up to you in your most vulnerable.

The extravagant sight of Quebec was already a treat as it was, enjoying the spot with his wife was another. He was more than content to watch you marvel at the snowy night, eyes twinkling in the fairy lights as the snowflakes fell on you like an extraordinary being blessing the Earth, but that would be unceremonious of him.

“Omar, look.” You gasped for the umpteenth time tonight, bending down at the line of the nation's quintessential souvenirs, handcrafted in ways that would surely grab the attention of first-time tourists. Those familiar with the renowned singer were kind enough to leave him and his beloved be, going only as far as taking a picture of the two from a distance to share on their social media later and rake in OMGs or any other forms of awe.

That, and many were smart enough to stay away, having witnessed the more intimidating side of him online at the mere mention of you in manners that never sat right with him.

“Would you like that one?” He asked, his deep voice never failed to send shivers down your spine.

“Omar, we already have so much.” You raised the bags in your hands, plus motioning to the majority that he had offered to hold. Brows furrowing a little in a way that you feel guilty that he has to play tour guide for you, no matter how many times you have visited.

“Well, who else is going to beautify our new bookshelf, if not you?” He chuckled, languidly walking over to stand next to you. He briefly surveyed the souvenirs through the glass, only for his eyes to flit towards you within seconds, prompting your face to burn, despite the chilly air hitting you, “We're buying it.”

Omar ducking his head was a telltale sign of him wanting to steal a kiss, but rather than feeling his lips on yours, he pecked the cold tip of your nose. Embarrassed by the affectionate display in public, you hid your face in his chest, your giggles vibrating through him.

That didn't stop him from showering you with more, planting kisses after kisses on the top of your head while he rested his free hand on the small of your back.

But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.

Your eyes were brimming with tears, glassy to the point where you couldn't pinpoint the nature on the other side of the window beyond silhouettes. Your mind was no better, your brain already in the midst of turning mush in favour of him prodding your cervix.

He cooed at you, akin to a delicate flower if not for the way one of his hands gripped at your ass tightly. Blunt nails leaving marks for him to appreciate in the next sunrise. His other hand lightly held the back of your head, leaving you no choice but to stare back at him in a drunken haze.

Omar welcomed your drools and tears dripping down his chest, occasionally leaving damp marks on his shirt, all unbuttoned but barely removed from his shoulders. The half-disheveled look on him was a sight to behold, the oh-so-put-together-singer nowhere to be seen.

You felt full, and you were full, the stretch around him evident when bouncing you up and down his cock required his aid. You would've fallen back or sagged in his arms if not for his own holding you snug against his chest. Although, that didn't mean he wasn't seconds away from losing himself into the feeling either—falling back into the velvet seat with one arm around you, chest heaving in shallow breaths and skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.

His body akin to a Greek God, created to worship his one and only with loyalty, riches and silk, and protect you from the dangers of humanity alone, or even the unforgiving weather that occured beyond the safety of his luxurious cabin.

Lost in the way you squeezed him each time he rolled his hips, he surged forward, wrapping his lips around one of your pebbled tits. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing his face further into your breasts as he shamelessly looked up at you through his lashes.

“Omar…” You hiccuped, brushing your lips against his forehead, moving your hips when he stilled you for a moment. It felt sickly sweet. something only he had the privilege of—of your body and soul, “Move, please…”

He couldn't say no to you, not now, not ever, even if he wanted nothing more than to listen to your pretty voice and hold you real close.

So long your lips, your mind, your you—could do nothing more than reciprocate his own desires, he'd only stop at his own expense when hell freezes over.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» Bonus HC from the train pic on OP's post:

I love the thought of Omar, with his reading glasses as he writes the lyrics of his upcoming song on a journal and casually drinks his coffee. But he's also watching his beloved play a one-player card game in front of him with a warm smile. UGH.

» deadass could not help it. this is one of those 'if I don't do something about it, no matter how short or quick it is, I'll sure as hell think about it for a LONG time.' ksjslsksls ;; tagging @firefly-graphics for the gorgeous divider ♡

[breezysuffers]

Technically, every single rp channel are just the VA’s ocs. Like, the whole story was just cooking up in their brains and they were like, ‘I can make bf/gfasmr outta this.’

[mothcrumbs]

hashtag. Girl