#re ocs

[homicidal-slvt]

"The Sweeter Moments"

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MDNI

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Kayce 'Canine' Connolly x Kitty

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Warnings: Hurt + Comfort, Lots of fluff for my OCS because I love them

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You effectively twisted your ankle while hiking by slipping on a rock because well- of course you did.

Quite embarrassing given you're literally an (almost) agent, yet your ass got kicked by a stray rock on a mountain path.

Canine simply chuckled and squatted down signalling for you to get on his back, that brown cowboy hat with burn marks sat atop his head per usual.

"Climb on aboard, Darlin'"

You huffed with a small laugh and eased your way onto his back, feeling the thick muscles shift beneath the surface of his red plaid button up- how cowboy-ish of him.

"Thanks."

His hands hooked under your thighs to ensure you were secured, legs wrapped around his waist and arms draped over his shoulders loosely. He turned making his way back down the path, a certain twinkle in those deep green eyes of his.

"Y'know what they say..."

"Don't make a dumb joke-"

"Save a horse ride a cowboy...."

"Oh my god-"

••

You plopped down onto the bench beside him to stare out at the pond, the adorable ducks swimming around living their best life- especially since Canine always comes out here to feed them.

"You really love ducks, huh?"

This earned a warm smile from him, unable to miss how he just seemed to adore little critters.

"Course I do. Can't help but have a soft spot for the little quackers."

Before you could stop yourself you cracked a bad joke.

"Probably because you're a big quacker yourself."

He slowly turned towards you, tilting his hat back with a sly little grin and you groaned dramatically, truly loving these moments but wanting to be silly about it.

"Oh my god- you've rubbed off on me."

"Sure did."

••

It had been a rough day for you, your brother's picture clutched tight within your trembling hands, tears rolling down your cheeks as you sobbed uncontrollably.

Foot steps rapidly approached your room and the door slowly creaked open, Canine squatting down by your side and tugging your form into his arms.

He let your tears soak into his shirt, the piney smell of his cologne grounding you and giving you a safe space. He never asked for an explanation, just was there.

"How did you know...?"

"I just know."

If you need him- he's there.

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{@sofasoap }

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{More Content}

[faewulv]

Doodles of some old OCs of mine that I've now repurposed into Resident Evil OCs <3 All are male, he/him pronouns.

I realized that their story/concept would fit in perfectly within Resi canon. Still trying to figure out how their original concepts would work, seeing as Matvei was a vampire, Antonio a werewolf, and Kaine some sort of... well, idek what the fuck he truly was. I never figured out a good name for what he was. ANYWAYS

Thinking about making them BOWs. But like... Their story would either be after Village or sometime before hand, maybe occuring around the same time but someplace else. We know Miranda worked for/with Umbrella, so what if her little idea for her Lords wasn't just applied to the Lords we get in Village? What if someone perfected the concept of the Lords/creatures of the Village? While they wouldn't have the Cadou, any monsterous forms, and no where near the power of the Lords... what if these three's "gifts" were more streamlined, umbrella-approved proof of concept for fully autonomous, functional BOWs? Enhanced abilities- stronger than normal humans, higher stamina, etc. Their individual serums would produce different sort of abilities, each excelling and producing traits based on the Lords and creatures of the Village. Matvei with traits of Lady D and Miranda herself- strength, sharper.... features...., minor shapeshifting/additional appendage growths (wings, claws, etc.). Antonio with traits of the Lycans and Moreau- the werewolf like aspects but with the ability to seemingly shift at will like how Moreau more or less could. It wouldn't be anywhere near a true werewolf (unless drastic measures were taken *cough cough*), but the general abilities and idea of one. Kaine? Kaine is still an enigma. Still trying to figure out what I want his abilities to be in this rendition seeing as he used to be associated with time manipulation in my original story/headspace for him.

Idk. It's still very mary-sue like, so it will need to be heavily tweaked, but it's something that might work out if I research/work with canon a bit more.

[chocobothis]

OCs and Writing

My Writing

Main OCs (Star Wars, Resident Evil, Final Fantasy XV)

(under construction as I sort out the fucking layout with this hellsite)

Solus Ve’tra/Solly Vetra

Ships: LumiSolus, PreSolus, BoSolus, BoPreSolus

Lumi Kirrin

Ships: LumiSolus, FennLumi

Jazari Naaji

Ships: MereelJazari

Alijah Kastor

Ships: GreyAlijah, KananAlijah, HeraAlijah, KanerAlijah

Jila Vizsla

Ships: SoshaJila

Jai Ve’tra

Ships: JaiHarti

Perrine Kryze

Ships: n/a

Kloe Monroww

Ships: n/a

Veronica “Nico” Bright (Vera Bright)

Ships: Brightfield, Valenbright, Briveira, Weskbright

Javier “Javi” Reyes Valencia

Ships: Reyennedy

Verena “Vren” Avitus

Ships: Vrenis, Vrenoct, Ravren, IrisVren, PelnaVren

Feronia “Fe” Cataegis

Ships: LibeFe, FeNyx, LunaFe, FeLibertusNyx, FeLunaLibertusNyx

Nereida Sal

Ships: AraneReida

[n1vanfield]

A little excerpt from a long fic I'm working on for my oc, Nico:

The longer they asked questions the more she slurred answers. It was all on purpose. Everything she gave them, in the basest form, was a lie. But they believed it. Whatever the put in her veins turned humans compliant or rabid; no middle ground.

Piers was the only one to call her rabid. It was back between their first truce and actual friendship. She had sank her teeth into his arm a few times in cold rage. The others just called her feral in a fond tone.

Her only other unique descriptions came from Ada. Instead of feral or rabid she called her vicious. Because her sharp teeth snapped into the softest points of a person; because she needed it to hurt them for hurting others. The same with she was a nuanced liar who saw the bigger picture. But, most of her she was a survivor. That happened before she ever saw a zombie.

For this she needed to be Ada's Vicious and calculated and frigid.

The man, the one with a name near hers, called the shots. Every mercenary in this stupid warehouse in bumfuck somewhere jumped to answer him. None of them seemed to be the same outfit though. There were not patches or similar gear or camaraderie to suggest they were a consistent team. Just their obedience.

Even then she discounted him as the real mastermind. Not that he came across as stupid...just unconcerned. His movements and words went through the motions but it lacked something more. There were questions about the B.S.A.A. and even Umbrella but he never leaned into them. Information was never the real goal.

His mistake, that almost became her mistake, was bringing up Jill and Carlos and Raccoon City. A little brag that brought up vivid details of him. It painted a big target over his chest. She would extract his black heart through it barehanded: whatever they pushed into her body not required for that feat.

[heartfullofleeches]

"Spouse" Reader: Honey, I want to change myself for the better. For us. I've been on the phone with a therapist and I'm taking you out to your favorite restaurant this evening.

Yan: Darling...

-

Shapeshifter Reader: I... I'm sorry for deceiving you.... For once, I just wanted to know what it's like to be accepted by a human.. I stole your beloved's face.... I am a monster

Yan: I know.

Shapeshifter Reader: You...know?

Yan: Soon as the word "therapist" left your mouth I knew you weren't them. I honestly planned on murdering them when they returned from that 'business trip', but then you came along and I fell in love for real this time.

Shapeshifter Reader: Ah....

Yan: Also, humans don't usually purr when we're excited-

Shapeshifter Reader: ...You don't?-

[tinyfantasminha]

This is literally how beanfest ended right

[tevintersnakes]

After the struggle of their previous fight being entirely unarmed (combined unarmed skill of 35* [*with buffout]), Arcade coming out swinging with his high melee & decent strength to one hit crit was A Moment

[glacierclear]

ooh!! i didnt post this. ok ok

[limesquares]

> adventure saved.

[yummyuri]

Small doodle

[k3yscozycorner]

finally finished more agere art :3

[cupid-styles]

casual

partially based on casual by chappell roan and a lil bit of sad personal experience hehe

word count: 2k

content warnings: angst (no happy ending), references to smut, alcohol, harry being a douche, not ramadan friendly

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

From: H (12:47 a.m.)

Come over?

To: H (12:50 a.m.)

Give me 15

From: H (12:52 a.m.)

K

. . .

It’s not unusual for her nights to look like this. Or her early mornings, rather.

It wasn’t always this way. When she first met Harry, she wanted nothing to do with him romantically or intimately. She’d heard about his reputation — it wasn’t anything bad as long as you were looking for the same thing. He was an expert in bed and the friends that slept with him always provided rave reviews. Ever excited rumblings of, “oh my God, he’s so caring! He made me finish twice before he even took his cock out” and “he’s the perfect one night stand — seriously, I’ve never had anyone better.” 

But Y/N didn’t care for that.

She was a serial monogamous, always bumping around from one lengthy relationship to the next. In hindsight, she supposes she wasn’t any better than Harry, who earned his notoriety from a series — a long series — of casual hookups. 

If you needed a rebound, you went to Harry.

If you were going through a dry spell, you went to Harry.

If you were just horny and needed someone to go home with at the end of the night (and he hadn’t miraculously already found somebody else yet), you went to Harry.

And Y/N never planned to sleep with him. Ever, really. He was a fine friend, someone who mixed well with their mutual friends, but they hardly exchanged conversation except for the occasional nicetie. She had his phone number from when he planned Rachel’s surprise birthday party last year and they were friends on Venmo, passing back the same $20 every month for drinks or a shared Uber. 

That was the extent of their friendship. 

Until a few months back, when Y/N was down in the dumps. She’d been seeing this girl, Samantha, for a month or two, assuming that they were headed straight towards a happy, exclusive relationship — only to discover that Samantha was sleeping with and seeing just about 10 other people on the side. And it only came out because Samantha happened to contract chlamydia from one of her sexual partners, so she’d been forced to tell Y/N for the sake of her health.

Y/N's friends, Rachel, Maeve, and Len gave her time to wallow. They offered it to her on a silver platter, even, offering multiple girls nights out (and in), providing Y/N all the space she needed to cry and complain and talk about how hurt she felt. 

But then… a week of moping turned into two, which turned into three, which eventually turned into a month and a half. Her friends were exhausted from watching her spiral into sadness, so they did the only thing they knew: They sat her down and told her she needed to rebound. Fast.

“And who the hell am I supposed to rebound with?” Y/N asked through a sniffle. The only thing that made this whole thing worse was her friends staging an intervention for her because she was being annoyingly sad about her not-really-breakup-but-felt-like-a-breakup. “See, that’s the best part of being friends with a man whore,” Maeve replied eagerly. Len and Rachel sat on either side of her with bright eyes, nodding excitedly. “Harry! He already said he’s down and everything!” “Wait— you already asked him?” “We just put the idea in his head. Don’t worry, men are stupid,” Len quickly waved her off, “But he’s going out with everyone tonight. We’ll feed you a few shots to get you just buzzy enough, and then send you off to your night in heaven. You won’t even remember that girl’s name by the time Harry’s done with you!” Y/N cringed. “Hasn’t, like… everyone slept with him though?” Maeve shrugged. “Yeah, but he’s clean. He gets regular testing and uses condoms. Really, Y/N, it’s sort of a rite of passage at this point. But you should do it only if you’re comfortable— don’t let us force you into it.” Y/N swallowed tightly. She had to admit, the thought of a rebound sounded… appealing. She’d swiped through dating apps looking for one, but she was too scared that a one night stand would end in her bloody murder. And it helped that Harry already knew what he was doing, and— wait, was she crazy or was she actually starting to consider this? “Alright, fine,” she replied with a shaky exhale, “Let’s do this.”

That was four months ago.

And what was supposed to be an evening of stupid, lusty, casual sex turned into Y/N falling hard. It wasn’t her fault, though — no, not when he panted breathy promises into her mouth in the back of the Uber, mumblings of “just tonight, you know that, right?”. She’d replied just how she’d rehearsed it in her brain hours prior: “yes, yeah, I know— just tonight. Just for tonight.” 

"Just for tonight" shifted into Harry asking her to stay until the morning for breakfast and shower sex. Then, the following weekend, he texted her the ever classy you still awake? at just past midnight. She was indeed up, doing nothing but rotting on her couch and watching a documentary about the deep sea — and her hookup with Harry had been good, really good, and she wasn’t going to turn down another night of orgasms. 

As he wrapped a condom around his dick and pressed messy kisses down her neck, he whispered the same hurried sentiments from the weekend before: “didn’t see anyone I wanted tonight and we were good, yeah? It was good. So just… just one more night, okay? That’s fine, right?” 

Foolishly, with flittering eyelashes and her nails scraping down her back as he pushed inside, she nodded and echoed his words. Just one more night, that’s fine.

It didn’t take long for their friends to catch on when Harry would leave the bar an hour early without looking for someone to take home. Or, when they’d both be out and, like magnets slowly being pulled towards one another, they’d end up kissing on the street as they waited for an Uber to take them back to Harry’s place. 

The guys hounded Harry about it, asking if Y/N was finally the one to tie him down.

“Nah,” he’d reply with a shake of his head, “She’s a good girl. Too good for me.”

When Y/N’s friends demanded to know every last detail, she shrugged.

"I'm not really sure. It's... good, I think."

They only responded with small, tight smiles.

. . .

“Your mom texted me today. She invited us to come see them this weekend.”

Harry doesn’t reply — or rather, he makes an unassuming humming noise — as he gets out of Y/N’s bed, untangling his naked form from her sheets. He hunts down his briefs and pulls them on before stretching his arms out. 

“Did you eat dinner?” he asks, grabbing her tee-shirt off the floor and tossing it to her. She sits up, tightening the sheet around her chest. She shakes her head as she clutches the fabric of her shirt in her hands and watches him scroll on his phone.

“No. I thought we could get something.”

Harry hums again, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. Swallowing, Y/N puts her shirt back on. She’s not sure why, but she always feels oddly vulnerable once they’ve finished hooking up. When she’s still naked and he’s already moved onto the next thing, like having plans with the guys or taking a shower before he heads home. She'd even purchased his favorite body wash and shampoo when he started sticking around a bit longer, but he'd never even mentioned it or uttered a thank you.

“Yeah, maybe,” he finally replies. He locks his phone and places it back on the ledge of the TV stand in her bedroom. The simple act makes her heart jump — usually, he’ll stuff his phone in his pocket as he’s leaving. Maybe he was planning on staying the night. “So listen, I know I took you to dinner at my parents’ place that one time, but I don’t really feel comfortable with you talking to my mom.”

Y/N furrows her brows in confusion. “She texted me, H. I don’t, like, regularly reach out to her.”

“Right, but it just makes this whole thing feel way more serious than it is.” he says, sitting back down on the bed. He maintains a steady distance between them and it makes a small lump form in Y/N’s throat. 

“Okay,” she murmurs slowly, “That’s fine, I get it. But… we never really talked about what this is.”

Harry glances up with wide, confused eyes. “We’ve said it a million times, Y/N. This is casual. Completely and totally casual sex.”

An ugly, involuntary chortle leaves her chest. He raises his eyebrows.

“We’ve been fucking for four months. That’s not really casual.”

“Yes, it is. It’s friends with benefits.”

“Sure, maybe, but that’s if you explicitly outline that you’re just having sex. No feelings involved.”

“We did that.”

“When?”

“At the beginning,” Harry responds. He seems frustrated now, but it feels as though he’s recalling a memory that Y/N was never even around for. “Remember? I told you, it was all just for tonight type shit. Nothing real.”

“Then why the fuck did you take me to your parents’ house two months ago?” Y/N demands, anger rising in her chest, “And why am I your date to all of your stupid, boring work events? And why the hell are you at my house like four times a week, and why do you have a drawer full of my clothes at your place?”

“Y/N—”

“This isn’t fucking casual, Harry. This is dating. You’re dating me and you don't even realize it.”

“I would know if I was dating you, but I never asked you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want a girlfriend, you know that.”

She groans and shakes her head, ignoring the way her jaw already aches from clenching it so hard. She grabs a clear pair of underwear from her drawer and quickly slips them on. Harry’s silent the entire time.

Suddenly, she whips around and faces him. “Have you been fucking other people?” 

A wrinkle forms between his brows. He shakes his head.

“No. I wouldn’t do that, and it’s unsafe.”

“Right,” she murmurs, placing her hands on her hips, “So piece it together, Harry. Neither of us are sleeping with other people. We’re exclusively seeing one another.”

“You’re just making this out to be way more of a thing than it is—”

“Oh, fuck off!” she exclaims, “You have a key to my house! That’s pretty serious!”

“I didn’t ask you for that!” he fires back as he stands up from the bed. They’re in a stand-off now, staring at one another with angry eyes. She snorts and shakes her head in disbelief.

“My friends were so fucking right about you. You’re such an asshole. You know Maeve called me a loser for thinking you were a good guy?”

Harry rolls his eyes as he grabs his phone and sweater, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

They don’t exchange any other words as he leaves her room. She sits back down on the edge of the mattress, listening as he stuffs his feet in his sneakers and slams the front door shut. She doesn’t even notice that tears are lining her eyes and falling onto the apples of her cheeks.

. . .

It’s barely 48 hours later when Y/N’s watching a YouTube video as she stands in the bathroom, doing her nighttime routine.

Like four months prior, when she hoped Harry would be a good rebound for her heartbreak, she's been moping around in self-hatred and sadness. She's in awe of how cruel and oblivious he's being, but more than that, she can't believe she actually believed he had real feelings for her. Ones that extended beyond sex.

She’s brushing her teeth when she notices a text notification come down, redirecting her attention from the influencer vlog to read the name of the sender. She taps on it to see a familiar initial.

From: H (10:32 p.m.)

Sorry for what I said. Can I come over?

[filibusterfrog]

anyway

[larvamars]

malewife

[lucabyte]

I don't know how everyone isn't also always constantly thinking about how burial rites seem to be potentially one of the few things Siffrin instinctively remembers about their culture. But rest assured. I am in fact always thinking about it.

Textless version where they're just hanging out. It's fine!

[tapidrinks]