#straggle(oc)

[physzoo]

small drawing of my tfoc in the animated artstyle!!

(yes he's a triple changer)

im also thinking if making a design where he ISNT a triple changer since its a little different in tfa so idk

eventually once I finish designing my other ocs ill start putting them in other styles (g1, tfa, tfp(maybe)) but designs are not final!!!!

[daveyfvckingjacobs]

simon, the chained lion; eddie, the kicked dog

[honeyedmiller]

Pretty Little Thing | Joel Miller

joel miller x oc!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

synopsis: it’s summertime and you’re working at a retro diner on the outskirts of austin. you’ve seen many faces and heard many voices all in a passing blur; ones you’ve never really payed any mind to—until one handsome southern gentleman in particular catches your special attention, and he’s got a voice you’d recognize anywhere—one that’s gotten you off more times than you’d like to admit.

warnings: original female character, no outbreak (game) joel, joel has a hidden identity in this for a bit, joel is taller than reader, joel can pull reader’s hair, reader is mentioned to blush once, joel indulges in virtual sex work, joel has no kids in this, flirting, talks of masturbation, smut (protected sex, blowjob, consensual choking, spitting, hair pulling, many ass slaps, edging, squirting, name calling, ass play), no use of y/n.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: this is entirely self indulgent. sorry for the small writing hiatus, life has been insanely busy. thanks for being patient with me as i ease back into writing fanfic.

-

It was like clockwork. 

Every day was the same. 

The same regulars, the same orders being put in, the same rushes. 

The lunch rush usually died down around two, which gave you time to prepare for the dinner rush before five. 

It was funny, really. You never thought that such a tiny diner off of Interstate 35, tucked in a corner on the outskirts of Austin, would have such an attraction as it does. 

Maybe it was the house favorite flapjacks you guys sold. Maybe it was the friendly hospitality you and your favorite coworker, Betty, gave to new and familiar faces. Hell, maybe it was the half-decent coffee and the low prices for everything that kept everyone coming in and coming back. 

Either way, it was all the same every single day. 

Until today. 

Usually, there’d be no more than three stragglers from lunch, and no one would come in until around five. 

The little bell above the door chimed as someone walked in, and Betty tapped you on the shoulder with a pleading look in her eyes. 

You averted your gaze from the sugar pourers you were refilling, giving her a small smile. 

“Honey, I’m sorry, I was about to take my break. Can you take that table for me? I need a cig after this morning’s rush.” Her blonde-gray hair was in disarray and her voice was scratchy and desperate. 

“No problem. Enjoy your break.” 

“Bless you, sweetheart.” 

You brush off the straggling sugar crystals that stuck to your hands on your black apron, pulling out your pad of paper and pen before approaching the man that sat with his back facing you. 

You muster up the best smile you can before stopping at the booth, ready to jot down his order. 

“Hello sir, how are you doin’ today?” You ask, and he looks up from the menu with a grin. 

The first thing you notice is his eyes. They’re a warm and inviting shade of hazel; a mixture of a beautiful green that reflects off of his tan skin and an amber as smooth as whiskey. 

Then you notice his lips. Pink and plush. Kissable. 

And then there’s the smile hidden behind the lips. Bright, pearly whites that take your breath away and make your heart palpitate, because god, why is he so handsome? 

It’s like he won the genetic lottery or something.

The mustache above his lips and the scruff on his jawline matches his dark hair with a few silver strands peeking through; the only identifier of his prospective age. 

His lips pull up into a smirk as he watches you shamelessly checking him out. Truthfully, you want him to watch you watching him. 

He clears his throat and your eyes snap back up to his. You tilt your head to the side and study him for a moment further before he finally speaks. 

“I’ll take a black coffee n’ the number three please. Eggs over easy.” 

You write down his order and your brows furrow as he speaks. Something about his voice sounds so… familiar. 

“Midday breakfast?” You tease, and he offers you a shrug and a grin. “It’ll be right out, sir.” You gingerly take the menu from him and walk back behind the counter. 

His voice keeps ringing through your head as you ring in his order on the POS system. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but his voice was attractive nonetheless — deep and gruff, yet sweet and polite. 

Where the hell have you heard that voice before? 

And then it hits you. 

Fuck. 

Oh, fuck. 

That man’s voice has brought you more orgasms than you can possibly even count. 

In a desperate need to get yourself off one night, you explored your options until you came across a faceless account. It was his broad body and thick, muscular arms that caught your attention. And — yeah, okay, maybe his deliciously girthy cock, too. 

The final nail in the coffin was that thick, syrupy Southern drawl that reeled you in and immersed you in a world full of pleasure. 

His voice and groans alone have made you come harder than any man you’ve ever been with. 

Your throat goes dry as you look back at him, tucked into the booth he chose to sit at, looking at his phone. 

You mindlessly pour his coffee and bring it out to his table, legs seemingly floating in his direction.

You set the coffee cup down on his table. His large hand grabs the cup, making it look nearly miniature. 

Your mind was fuzzy and your core suddenly had an aching throb as you thought of his hands exploring your body; what they’d feel like all over you and — god, get a fucking grip. 

“Was there anythin’ else I can get for you?” You ask as nonchalant as you can muster up. 

“Nope, that’ll do it darlin’. Thank you.” The crinkles beside his eyes deepen in the slightest as he tosses a polite smile your way. 

“Food should be out in a couple of minutes.” You rap your knuckles on the table once before turning around to finish topping off the sugar pourers. 

The chef chimed the bell indicating the handsome man’s food was done. You wipe your hands on your apron once more before sucking in a breath. 

You decided to shoot your shot and call him out by his screen name. You were confident it was him. 

You saw no wedding band on his finger, either, so what the hell, right? Worst that could happen is he rejects your advances. 

You grab his plate from the kitchen window and head toward his table. Your palms start to sweat and you’re nervous as hell, because fuck, a face like that is hard to forget. 

You set the plate down in front of him and he softly thanks you. You hesitate for a second before tucking a stray hair that had fallen out of your braid behind your ear, shooting a wink his way. 

“Anytime, Mr. Ryder. Let me know if you need anythin’ else.” 

He pauses before looking up at you again, eyebrows furrowing. 

“How do you—?” He starts, clearing his throat as his eyes travel down your figure. 

“I’m a fan of your work.” You shrug, passing it off like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

“I see,” He looks back at the now empty diner, gaze shifting back to you. “Wanna sit for a minute and chat?” His voice holds sincerity and — god, let it be — desire. 

You nod and hold a finger up to him. “Just a sec.” 

You walk back to the counter, catching Betty at a perfect time. She grins at you as she re-ties her apron around her waist. 

You jerk your head back to Ryder. “The guy over there wants to chat for a few. Mind if I take a break?” 

“Go ‘head baby. Not like we got a ton ‘a people to serve.” She laughs, and you shoot her a smile. 

“Thanks, Betty.” 

You untie your apron from your waist and walk back over to his booth. He gestures for you to slide into the side opposite of him, and you clumsily settle into the worn leather bench. 

He chews on a piece of bacon before his gaze roams your face, seemingly studying you before he swallows. 

“So, what’s the first video you watched?” He asks, and you feel your face burn with a blush. You thought he’d be more subtle, but it’s better to lay the cards on the table you suppose. 

“Truthfully, I’ve scrolled all the way to the bottom of your page and have probably watched every single one.” You shrug at your confession, and that pulls a smirk out of him. 

“What about your favorite?” His tone is almost challenging, but truthfully, he’s intrigued. Never did he think anyone could recognize him by just his voice. 

Joel was careful not to show his face on camera. He wanted to keep himself a mystery—the gruff, sexy voice of a suave cowboy and his perfect body that he shared with the world—a secret. 

“It’s probably gonna have to be the one where you’re pretty much just talkin’ the viewer through it and, fuck, this is kinda embarrassing but we’re already here,” You huff, and Joel shakes his head and urges you to continue. “When I watch that video, I’ve kinda timed it to make myself come the same time you do.” 

“Not embarrassin’, sugar. That’s the sexiest thing a woman has ever confessed to me.” 

“Yeah, well, when you got a voice like yours and a dry spell like mine, it’s the perfect mix for a most blissful—” Joel’s hearty laugh cut you off, and you couldn’t help but admire him from across the table. 

He was so fucking handsome and you genuinely couldn’t believe you were seeing the man who’s made you come more times than you can count without even fucking touching you, in person. 

“Can I see your notepad and pen real quick, baby?” He asks, gesturing down to your lap. You shuffle the items out of your apron pocket before sliding them across the table, and at the click of the pen, he starts to write something down. 

You lick your lips and cross your arms over your torso, lolling your head to the side. He clicks the pen once more before sliding it back over to you with the notepad. 

You look down at what he’s written, to see his fake name, phone number and an address. 

“Whenever you get off, gimme a call n’ come over if you’d like. No pressure though, sugar.” 

Holy fuck. 

No way in hell you’re passing up this opportunity, so you shoot a smirk his way and tuck the paper into your apron pocket. 

Play. It. Cool. 

“I get off in about,” You look down at your watch, twisting your lips to the side. “An hour.” 

You try to keep your voice steady, but your heart is thumping in your chest and your desperate, aching cunt. 

“Sounds good,” He raps his knuckles on the wooden table before grinning at you, nudging your foot in the slightest before he finishes off his breakfast for lunch. “Just the check, sugar. Then I’ll get out of your hair.” 

“I’d rather you pull it than get out of it.” You grin wickedly at the astonished man in front of you, sliding out of the booth. 

You walk away to the counter before he can retort and ring the check up for his meal, but before you can bring it back to him, he slaps two twenties on the counter before you. 

His thick fingers find their way to your wrist and give it a squeeze as he leans down to you and whispers his next words. 

“Hope I can satisfy you in more ways than one, baby. See ya in an hour,” He straightens back up before looking down at the twin Jacksons staring back at the both of you, “Keep the change.” 

He walks out without another word, without looking back, and it leaves you nearly winded. 

“What was that all about?” Betty asks, sidling up beside you as she gently nudges your ribs.

“Looks like I got a hot date.” You half joke. 

“If I was thirty years younger I woulda been all over that too, baby,” A hearty laugh escapes her and she shoots a wink your way. “Have fun tonight.” 

-

The hour goes by surprisingly fast and you find yourself almost scurrying to your car after you clock out. You toss your apron into the passenger seat of your car and immediately roll down the windows. 

The AC decided to give out on you about a week ago, and of course it was during a time where it was hotter than the devil’s fucking asshole outside. 

You groan as you close your eyes, the heat already making you miserable. At least the diner had a good central air system. 

You peel your eyes open to fish the paper out of your apron pocket with Ryder’s number and address on it, dialing the numbers scrawled across in blue ink. 

After the second ring, his rich voice picked up on the other end of the line. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Ryder. ‘M off work now if you still want me to head to your place.” 

“Hey sugar. Head on over. There’s a spot in the driveway for ya.” 

“See you soon.” 

Nerves coursed through your veins as the line went dead. You type in his address into your phone, and to your surprise, he only lived fifteen minutes away. 

You threw your car in drive and you were off, the hot air whipping through the cab of your car. 

It was truly unlike you to do something so bold like this. 

You never went to strangers houses, always ignored when you got hit on at the diner, rejected offers from several men for what would probably be a night full of mediocre sex—and yet, there was something about this man that you couldn’t shake off. 

Even with just video evidence of this man’s gruff voice, veiny cock and skillful hands, you could just tell he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. 

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to a quiet neighborhood. His house was on the right hand side, and you pulled up into the driveway next to his black truck. 

You took a deep breath before looking at yourself in the mirror of your sun visor before touching up with some lip gloss. You spray your perfume on your pulse points before deciding to stop stalling and finally get out of your car before psyching yourself out. 

Your beat up work shoes scuff the concrete path leading up to Ryder’s door, and you swallow thickly before you knock. 

Thirty seconds later, a now shirtless Southern gentleman answers the door, hazel eyes catching yours as you stare up at him in awe. 

“Well fuck me.” You mutter under your breath as you study his handsome face and his thick, toned torso. 

“Tha’s the plan, sugar.” His deep voice shoots straight down to your core, nearly making you audibly moan. 

He steps aside to let you into his house, which is surprisingly warm and inviting. It’s cozy with its worn-in furnishings and family photos on the walls. It smells like him too; something earthy and musky and delicious. 

He guides you into the living room with his hand on your lower back, touch sending a chill down your spine. 

“Make yourself cozy, darlin’. Would y’like anythin’ to drink?” 

“Whiskey, neat please. If you have it.” You respond, and he softly smiles at you before nodding and retreating into the kitchen. You can’t help but watch him walk away with the muscles clearly rippling in his back as he walks, all the way down to the back dimples he has. 

There’s no fucking way this man is real. 

You sigh and settle onto the couch, folding your hands into your lap after setting your purse and keys on the coffee table in front of you. 

It’s only a couple of minutes before Ryder reappears before you, handing you a glass of amber liquid. You thank him and sip on it graciously, the smooth taste gliding down your throat and going straight to your already throbbing core. 

He sits next to you and slings his arm over the back of the couch, allowing himself to get comfortable as if this occurrence is the most natural thing in the world. 

Fuck, maybe it might be for him. You wouldn’t really be surprised considering the charm and suave demeanor he possesses. 

“You can relax, darlin’. ‘M not gonna try anythin’ or touch ya without your consent.” 

Your shoulders visibly relax at that, not even noticing they were tense to begin with. He didn’t give you bad vibes or scare you. He made you nervous—a feeling you haven’t felt with a man in a very long time. 

“So,” You start, voice scratchy from talking so much hours prior and the burn of the whiskey affecting your throat, “You usually bring women home like this?” You’re half teasing and half curious, wanting to see if this really is a regular occurrence for him. 

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and practically vibrates the whole couch. “No, sugar. You’d be the first t’ even recognize me just by my voice. Gotta say, ‘m pretty impressed with that. Guess you’re a regular viewer then, I take it.” 

Now he’s the one teasing, but there’s a knowing tone in his voice. You didn’t even have to say it. He knows. 

There’s really no point in denying how turned on he gets you, so you just… let it happen. 

You feel a little looser with the whiskey swimming in your veins, giving you the bit of courage you mustered up within the past minute or so. You sink into the couch further, spreading your legs enough to keep the man curious. 

He watches you wearily, eyes trained on your body and the signals you were emitting. 

“You’re the only man that can get me off now. You’ve got me wrapped around those skillful fingers, Mr. Ryder.” Your voice sounds more smooth and sultry than you expected it to, but it was definitely working in your favor. 

“These skillful fingers would love to show you a thing or two, baby.” His fingers twitch around the glass he holds tightly; clearly a form of self-restraint. 

You didn’t want him to hold back anymore. 

“Show me.” You say. 

A small groan emits from the back of his throat. 

You suck in a breath as your eyes notice his going completely dark, drowning in desire for you. His once bright hazel eyes have since been replaced with something deeper than a simple need to satiate. 

It was fucking carnal. 

He downs the rest of his drink and licks his lips, patting his jean-clad thigh. 

“Sit on my lap. Back against my chest.” He commands, and you try to smoothly maneuver yourself onto him just as he’d asked. 

Once you’re settled on top of him, he gently grips onto both of your knees to spread your legs apart so they’re on either side of his thick thighs. 

Your lips part and you don’t even notice you’re breathing heavier until you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“Relax, baby. ‘M gonna make you feel good. If you need me to stop, just tap my thigh twice and hard. Got it?” 

“Yes.” You whisper, nearly shaking in anticipation. 

“Good.” 

And his hands are grazing up your legs to the inner part of your thighs, delicately tracing your skin. Goosebumps raise at his featherlight touch, and before you know it, he’s spreading his own legs wider to spread yours. 

You were aching and damp even back at the diner as you sat with him in the booth, studying his handsome features. The cool air of the home hits the dampness on the cotton panties you wore. 

Ryder’s fingers made their way up to the lace trim of your panties, causing you to softly whimper for him. You genuinely didn’t think you needed anyone to touch you so fucking bad in your life. 

You didn’t want to come off whiny and absolutely desperate, so you kept your pathetic begging to yourself. 

“So wet already, pretty girl. This all for me?” 

You can’t muster up the words because your brain is simply mush at this point, and all you want is his fingers on you, and fuck, in you. 

“You know I respect you, right baby?” 

Respect you? 

You’ve only known this man—physically—for a few hours, albeit knowing his voice and his body long before he’d even tell you his real name. 

And yet, there’s a comfort in his presence. One that would have you willing to do nearly anything for him—with him. 

And all you could do was meekly nod your head at his words, his Southern twang dripping in honey—buzzing into your veins. 

You turn your head to look at him with a bewildered expression on your face, though, wondering why he’d ask such a thing. 

He shoots you a devilish smile. 

“Good, ‘cuz for the next few minutes it’s gonna look like I don’t.” 

“Oh, fuck.” You mewl, tossing your head back onto his shoulder. He noses at your jaw, littering kisses and small nips all along your jawline and neck as he slides your panties to the side.

He slides his middle finger through your slick slit, moving up to circle your already sensitive clit. You shudder at the touch, clamping your eyes shut as you softly moan. 

“Fuck baby, you’re drippin’ already. This what I do to ya? You get this wet when you’re by yourself and you’re bein’ a dirty fuckin’ girl gettin’ yourself off to my videos? Hm?” 

His deep voice vibrates through your body, finger traveling down to your entrance. He teases you as he slips the tip of his finger into you—nothing more—and moves it back out. 

He continues this a few times, and when you don’t answer him, he slaps your dripping cunt lightly. You gasp and grip onto his forearm that was wrapped around your torso. 

“Answer me.” 

“God, yes, I–I fuckin’ love your videos. You always get me this wet. Every time. You’re just so—fuck—goddamn hot.” 

He chuckles at your blabbering. “Hot, huh? You think that highly of me?” 

“Ryder,” You moan as he fully sinks his middle finger into you. He stops his movements and it takes everything in you not to rock your hips. 

“Joel.” 

“W-what?” 

“I want you moaning my real name, baby.” 

Joel. 

Joel. 

That name is somehow very fitting for him, and lucky for you, it rolls off the tongue easily. 

“Joel.” You test it, and his grip on you tightens. 

“Atta girl.” He praises, sinking a second finger into you. You moan at the feeling, long fingers hitting spots yours never could. He curls his fingers to hit that exact spot and you cry out in pleasure. 

You can feel Joel’s cocky smirk on his lips as he kisses your braided hair, likely in a complete disarray at this point. 

The squelching noise that reverberated throughout his living room was truly obscene, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, it seemed to spur him on as he twisted his wrist and worked his fingers faster, pressing into that spot inside of you that had you choking on your own moans. 

Without warning, you felt yourself nearly at the brink of your orgasm—and Joel pulls his fingers out of you. You cry in desperation, the beautiful build up completely dissipated. 

“Not. Yet.” Joel’s mouth was next to your ear, nibbling at your lobe as he worked you through the edging. 

He didn’t stop after that, though. He kept the momentum going, sliding his other hand from your torso down to your swollen clit. He slowly starts to rub small circles onto the already overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out a strangled moan as the feeling surges through your body. 

“Now.” He says. 

Your mind was going blank at this point and a pressure kept building and building and building—until you felt a huge gush, forceful and draining. Your eyes snap open to see clear liquid dripping all down the couch. 

“Fuck, Joel I’m sor—”

“Don’t you dare apologize baby. You ever done that before?” He asks, and you shake your head no. He moans at your wordless response and readjusts himself beneath you, and you can suddenly feel how hard he is in his jeans. 

Even through the denim he felt fucking big, and you knew you were in for it. 

“Let me,” You start, shakily sliding off of his lap and onto the floor. “Let me take care of you.” 

Joel watches you and the same muscle in his jaw ticks furiously. He nods without another word as you lean up to kiss the hot skin above his jeans, trailing your lips down to the hemline. You undo the button and zipper swiftly, and he lifts his hips to pull his pants and boxers down to his mid thigh. 

Your hunch was correct: he’s fucking huge. You swallow as you take in the sight of his cock in-person rather than over a screen, and it was even better than you’d imagined all those times. 

You gently grab the base of his silky flesh, giving it a soft squeeze as you move your hand to the tip. Your eyes flicker up to his, and he’s watching you intently. You smile sweetly up at him before bringing your head down to lick the pre come from his slit, moaning as you get a taste of the salty musk. 

Joel’s hand flies to your head, threading his fingers through the loose braid as you slowly lick your way down the vein on the underside of his cock. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” You say, and he groans at your praise. “Even better than I imagined.” 

You bring your tongue back up to the tip and take him in your mouth this time, going as far down as you could before you gagged softly. 

“Fuck yeah baby, just like that. Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me,” He mewls as you set a faster pace, one of your hands coming to pump the rest of his cock you couldn’t reach with your mouth, the other gently fondling his balls. 

You moan around him as his silky flesh easily glides onto your tongue. You enjoy getting him off like this; unraveling him inch by inch just as he’s done to you many times before. 

He began to rock his hips up into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try your damndest to not forcefully gag around him. 

“Mouth feels so goddamn good on me, honey. ‘M not gonna last much longer.” Joel confesses, and your tighten your lips around his cock to silently urge him to let go. 

It was only another minute until his hips completely stilled and his pulsing cock was drained, salty spend coating your mouth in haste. 

He groans loudly as he reaches down to cradle your jaw, slowly sliding your mouth off of him. You swallow his spend and sit back on your heels, looking up at him innocently. 

“On your knees, baby. Ass up.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch, and you happily oblige. He pulls the skirt of your uniform up over your hips and slides your wet panties down your legs so you’re on full display for him. 

You feel his hands slide over the globe of your ass, spreading you apart to get a good look at all of you. You suck in a breath for a second before you feel his fingers slide through your slick folds once more, teasing you so. 

“You ever had a man touch you back here? Pretty little thing.” He asks as his thumb circles the tight ring of your ass. 

“No.” You moan, closing your eyes as you press a cheek to the couch cushion. 

“Hm. ‘S a shame. Feels real good.” 

“Please, Joel.” You truly weren’t above begging for this man to touch you in any way possible. 

“Please what, sugar?” 

“Please—please touch me. Make me feel good. Even better than I already feel.” 

You turn your head more to lock eyes with him staring down at you with a look of determination and hunger. 

He keeps his eyes locked on you as he grabs his half-hard cock, reaching to the coffee table beside you both to grab the foil packet you didn’t even see until this very moment. 

He rips it open and slides it on before sliding his cock through your slick folds. You sigh in pleasure as your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before you open them again as his tip notches your entrance. 

“You ready baby?” 

You nod your head, but he shakes his. 

“Need your words this time darlin’.” 

“Yes Joel. Please.” 

He sinks into you slowly, his girth stretching you out so deliciously. It stung a little, because in truth, you’ve never been with anyone his size. 

Once he’s fully sheathed into you, he shoots you that same wicked grin before letting spit slowly dribble out of his mouth and onto your asshole. 

“Oh fuck me,” You whisper, moaning as his thumb circles the tight ring once again. “Please.” You say, and he hooks his thumb gently into you. 

You feel so full like this, barely even able to comprehend the fact that you’re about to get fucked by your favorite adult content creator. 

Joel starts to rock his hips slowly at first, moaning at how tight you are. He picks up his pace once you’re both comfortable and it feels like he’s punching your fucking gut. 

It’s almost unbearable— but the pleasure outweighs the pain by a mile. He’s rocking his hips so hard that the couch starts to scrape onto the floor, nothing but skin  slapping on skin. You feel a sting on your left asscheek and moan at the contact, realizing Joel had slapped you. 

He does it again, and again, and again, until tears are in your eyes and you can no longer bear the sting. 

“Pussy feels so fuckin’ good baby. Was meant to take this cock, hm?” He says through gritted teeth, and you can’t help but agree with him. 

His hand slides up your back and reaches your hair, pulling it so your head tilts upward. 

“So fuckin’ pretty like this. Love the way you feel around me.” He confesses, taking his thumb out of your tight muscle before wrapping his other arm around your torso once, only to pull you upright this time. 

He’s pistoning into you as you lean back onto his body. His hand wraps gently around your throat as he scatters more kisses onto your jawline and up your earlobe. 

“Can I?” He asks, and you choke out a meek yes. 

His large hand wraps all the way around your throat, squeezing the sides. Joel turns his head down to look at you, all helpless as he fucks you relentlessly. 

Your jaw hangs open and your eyes are squeezed shut, relishing in the all-consuming feeling of Joel. 

Joel, Joel, Joel. 

You open your eyes as you plead his name, feeling another orgasm burning within you. 

He moves his fingers up from your throat to grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he spits into it. 

“Swallow.” He commands, and you don’t question him one bit. 

He likes seeing you like this—submissive and practically breedable—and yet, he barely knew you. He knew he wanted that to change after this, though.

“Joel I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hoarse and desperate, trying so hard to keep the feeling of pleasure at bay. 

It was no use, though. The way he was looking at you made you want to fucking risk it all, and when he finally bent his face down to kiss you, you knew it was a wrap. 

You both moaned into each other’s mouths as your tongues tangled together, tasting each other and exploring one another. 

It wasn’t long before the coil finally snapped for you, and seconds later, him as well. You both panted heavily as you were submerged in the post-coital bliss. 

“You did so good, baby. Hopefully I lived up to your expectations.” 

You huff a laugh at his words as he pulls out of you and  shuffles himself down onto the couch, pulling you on top of him. He kisses the top of your head as he plays with your hair, a strange feeling blooming in his chest as you both enjoy the presence of one another. 

One thing’s for sure and two things for certain: 

You’re everything he’s wanted, and he didn’t even know how to tell you. There was no way he was letting you go now. 

-

tags: @endlessthxxghts @punkshort @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @party-hearses

@joelsgreys @ozarkthedog

[jazziejax]

PR & Matchmaking

Pairing- Callum Turner x OC! India Hayes

Summary- The flirtatious banter between two co-stars that are trying to make the most of their PR contract while also wondering if what they’re felling is real or not.

Warnings- none

Author’s Note- I haven’t written anything on here in so long so please be easy one me guys. I just wanted to post something because it’s been a while and I felt like Callum Turner needed more love.

Word Count- 2,131

Lights were flashing like crazy and the people were going wild as they walked onto the carpet. Tonight was the premiere of Masters of The Air, a drama miniseries on Apple TV that explores the aerial wars of WWII through enlisted men of the Mighty Eighth Air Force.

At first, the red carpet was filled with the men from the show, some posing for the perfect shot while others did interviews to talk about the show. Though all were dapper as the cameras clicked and flashed to capture their noticeable charm. One of the stars, Callum Turner, was in the middle of answering a question after being asked what was his biggest takeaway from a show like this.

“I mean, it’s taught me a lot. More than I knew it would, which is always great. Working with such amazing people has to be the greatest takeaway—.” The sound of his words were barely audible under the screams of the crowd. His face morphed into a shell of shock for only the briefest moment before he chuckled and turned his head to see what that commotion was about. His first assumption was that it was Austin and Barry offering tons of fanservice with their flirtatious banter.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong.

He could hardly see through the flashing lights but he could discern one name through what the photographers were saying.

“India!”

“India, this way!”

Even though he wasn’t facing the camera fully, it still caught the smile that graced his lips at the sound of the woman's name. From another angle, you could see him looking down the carpet at the girl in black, staring at her figure as she posed.

Realizing he’s still on camera and was in the middle of talking, Callum chuckled as she turned back to his interviewer. “Speaking of amazing—.” He laughed along with the guy, gesturing to the woman down the carpet.

“Did you guys and the Angels of War cast get to do any work together? Can we expect to see a crossover?” The man asked before holding his mic out to Callum. Said man pursed his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I can’t say, you have to watch the show and see.” He joked.

Moments later, India was being asked her own set of questions.

“We’ve all seen Angels of War, we all loved it. It was great. But I must know what you think of Masters of the Air.” The woman asked her.

India smiled, prepared for her words to soon come bite her in the ass. “I loved it, it was so amazing and so detailed that you couldn’t help but fall in love it.” India smiled, her southern accent strong on her tongue. “I felt so connected to the characters because of such great acting.” She offered a soft smile. “But it was hard payin’ attention in some scenes because everyone was so sexy.” She laughed along with interviewer.

“Right! I’m glad you said it before I did.” The woman with the mic spoke.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna watch anything with Callum Turner in it.” India winked with a small smirk on her lips. This caused the interviewer to make a sound of excitement, knowing she just got her clip of the week. India just smiled and laughed along, knowing she was working her PR arm a little too much. But she liked riling people up, it’s why she was so loved.

“I have to agree with you, I am the same way with Henry Cavil.” The woman chuckled. Her eyes moved a tad to catch a glimpse of a tall figure dressed in black behind India’s shoulder. “And speaking of Callum Turner.” She beamed.

India turned her torso to see said man not too far from them walking somewhere along the outskirts of the red carpet, a few people straggling behind him. Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Callum glanced to his left to see India and the interviewer staring at him, the camera slightly angled his way. A large smile made its way onto his face as he walked closer.

“Callum!” India said excitedly, opening her arms in invitation. His eyes disappeared behind the folds on his cheeks as he moved to embrace the woman once he made it to her. She wrapped her arms his neck while his went to her waist. Her height and hills made it to where her head fit almost perfectly within the nook of his neck. As she moved back slightly to grab a hold of his jaw and place a firm kiss on his cheek, his hands traveled from her waist to her hips. His large hands almost sitting on top of her bottom. Since they weren’t as close to the mic as they were before, the camera couldn’t pick up on any of what was being said.

“Did you play it up before I got here?” India asked through a smile as she drug her hand from his face to his chest.

“Why yes I did, darling.” He beamed down at the girl. “And I can see you are trying to upstage me.” He said before starting to rub his hands up and down the curve of her back. The tips of his middle fingers grazing one another as they traversed the span of her waist. India then made a dramatic sad face, her large eyes never leaving his. “Oh, never that.” She cooed. “I am just trying to get us both paid.” She cheesed before turning around to finish her interview. Callum followed after her, keeping his hand around her waist.

“Sorry about that. Speak of the devil and he shall appear and all that.” India said sarcastically, nodding her head over to the man behind her. The interviewer laughed, looking between the two. “It’s so good to now have you here with us, Callum, how are you?” She asked.

“I’m doing far better now that I’ve seen her.” The man smirked, glancing down at the woman on his arm as his hand moved from her hip to lying flat on her stomach. . India dramatically rolled her eyes at him, moving to place her hand on top of his. “He’s so cheesy.” She said.

“Only for the right price.” His voice said above her head. India burst into a fit of chuckles, angling her head to look up at the man without turning around. They shared a knowing look before going back to looking at the interviewer, who was red in the face from just watching their interactions.

“Well aren’t you two quite the pair!” She exclaimed. “Are we going to be seeing your characters together any time soon? I think it’s time for Loretta to settle down.” She asked before holding out the mic.

“Well, first off, Loretta needs no man!” India said, sassily waving her finger, causing the others to chuckle. “She probably would have liked one in a time such as then but needed one? No thank you.” She joked, although her words had a seemingly undertone due to the topic of her statement. “And secondly, you’ll just have to wait and see. I wouldn’t get my hopes up though.” She shrugged.

“Well, those are all the question I had for you, thank you two so much for being here!” She said excitedly.

“No, thank you for having us.” India said before giving the woman a small hug, Callum’s hand moving to her waist as she moved. She then finished her hug and walked away with Callum on her hip.

“Do you think we’re laying it on thick?” India asked, looking up at him. Callum looked down at her, the lights reflecting of her big eyes. She had a black silk scarf on her head on the carpet, but it was no gone, along with her shades, to show her short cut. He brought his hand up to the back of her neck, playing with the small hairs there. “No, I don’t think so.” He said, his suave demeanor dropping in a second of comfortability with her. “And if so, isn’t that kind of the point?” India didn’t answer his rhetorical question, caught up in the feeling of his hands playing in her short hair.

“We have the same haircut.” She said after a moment of silence, the two just staring at each other. Callum’s blue eyes twinkled in the light as he smiled at her. “Yeah, we do.”

“Although I think mines a little better, maybe I can give you my barbers number?” He finished before walking away from her. India’s mouth dropped but wasn’t for long as she caught up to his long legs and hit him in the arms. “I cannot believe you said that. You know I look way better than you with his haircut.” She sassed, rolling her eyes at the man before walking faster than him. Callum smiled his eyes following her figure as she walked back to the red carpet, where her life long friend, Janelle, was gesturing her over on the carpet with the rest of the Angels of War cast.

India scurried over, her and Janelle standing in the middle with the other girls on the side, all posing for the camera. Callum stood off on the side, looking at them while the lights flashed behind him. His eyes were trained on India as she and Janelle exchanged words before bubbling into laughter.

After a while longer, India looked over and made eye contact with him. They both immediately smiled at each other, eyes showing nothing but pure affection. She then detached one of her arms from Janelle and beckoned him over. Callum slightly shook his head. Seeing his hesitation, her face became serious as she beckoned him over again, although her movements were a little harsher this time. He was about to reject the offer again before his shoulder jerked forward slightly. His glanced back to his Austin gesture his head over to the carpet before walking off and over to his girlfriend Janelle, although no one else knew that piece of information.

He followed after him, his eyes locked on India playfully stern ones, the rest Masters of the Air cast following behind him and Austin. Once he made it to her, her eyes softened as he slipped behind her. While they waited for everyone to settle into their places, she smiled up at him before leaning back a little, her back met his torso. Her head laid on his chest as she looked up at him with a big fake smile. Callum looked down at her, staring into the eyes he thought looked beautiful from any angle. Trapped within her gaze, he leaned down a little, the tip of his large nose brushing against her forehead as he sniffed her. India crunched her eyebrows at him before raising her head to look back at the cameras. She still had her back against him, although you couldn’t tell unless you got a side angle.

“Enough of your flirting.” Austin piped up behind his smile as he glanced over at the pair dressed in all black.

“What, are we outshining the real couple?” Callum asked, smirking over at his friend.

“Outshine?” Austin asked. “Oh, you don’t even wanna know the things I’d do if we were public.” He finished, his grip tightening on Janelle’s waist as he continued to pose for the pictures. Said woman’s face flushed as she laughed and glanced up at him. They looked at each other for the briefest of seconds before going back to their original poses.

“This whole thing is so backwards.” India scoffed with a smirk on her face as the camera flicked to catch the moment between Austin and Janelle. Callum looked down at her and placed his hand on her hip, squeezing her fat as he sensed she was getting irritated. “Oh, but you love it.” He said joked, his deep voice vibrating through the both of them. Although she didn’t look up at him, India smiled at his words. “Yeah…you got me there.” She said, but couldn’t decide whether she was serious or not.

Social media went into a complete frenzy over those two. Clips of their cute moments floating all around the internet, some “fake”, you could say and others more authentic. Stills of Callum staring at India so lovingly were all over her feed, almost sending their girl into a spiral from seeing her own face that much. Compilations of every time they interacted during the premiere had millions of views as everyone speculated what they were. People were talking about the pair for weeks, which is just what their management wanted.

Indiahayes ✓⃝

likes by austinbutler, keoghan92, and 567,842 others

indiahayes happy masters of the air day!! go watch the show full of sexy men that kiss! ;)

view 7,627 comments

janellethat no one kissed guys :(

⤷ Indiahayes hush, don’t spoil the show!

callumsnumber1gurl let’s talk about these premiere photos hun!

callumturnerburner you and Callum look soo good together!!

⤷ austinbutlerbutt you are not sneaky at all

austinbutler Angels of War sister! 🤍

⤷ Indiahayes Masters of the Air brother!🖤

anthonyboyle why are you and Nina on the furniture?

⤷ ninasimone because we’re American 🇺🇸 🦅

randosuper3 it’s times like this where I wish Callum had an instagram 😔

lovelyrando you and Callum looked amazing together and I hope what you guys have lasts long

auatinslove are we just not going to talk about Janelle and Austin? What’s going on there???

⤷ indiassuperfan7 adults being adults

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 22

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: To say thank you for reaching 200 followers, I have decided to make this weekend a double Lost Sister update! So you won't have to wait long to see some certain reactions. Enjoy! The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

The last few cadets straggling to get to battle brief swiftly move to the side as Melgren leads me through the corridors. He had to have been here already to get here so quickly.

Carr was quicker than I thought to get the news to the higher ups. Obviously eager to announce the newest signet in the quadrant. Or Melgren had instructed him to tell him when mine had manifested. And I had just been unlucky that the day I had chosen to tell Carr was a day Melgren was back. And somehow I knew that the later was the correct answer. Carr was to keep tabs on me. Tabs on my signet and how I was progressing.

Our footsteps echo off the walls of the empty corridors as he leads me over the bridge connecting the riders quadrant to the rest of the college. He leads me over to the administration building, and down to an office I had only seen a handful of times. General Sorrengail’s office.

Melgren opens the door and motions for me to head inside. I notice as soon as I enter the General isn’t here, but I could tell she had been recently with how the desk had been left. A candle wick still smoking from having recently been blow out. Obviously she had been instructed by Melgren to vacate it for our meeting seeing as he didn’t have an office in the college. And he would not risk drawing attention by taking me out of the college. But now it would be known outside of the college walls that Xaden Riorson had a sister, dragged into the spotlight on conscription day. Melgren walks past me as I stand in front of the desk, sitting in the chair as if it were his own. As if he owned everything here. Which technically in a way he did. General Sorrengail might be in charge of the college, but he oversaw our armies. His cold calculating eyes assess me, taking in every single detail of me. The now black and red hair, my skin now slightly more tanned and sun kissed from my time on Mealladh, and the new strength I had gained. But he didn’t seem to care about those details, almost seemed to dismiss them. I held myself differently now. I was no longer the scared naive little girl he had trained and honed. The girl I had pretended to be to appease him. Let him think he could control and command me. But now in front of him stood second in line to the Riorson name. The daughter of the leader of the rebellion. ”I hear my training has not gone to waste on you. Seems you’ve already made quite a name for yourself in the quadrant.” He drawls, his eyes finally meeting mine. ”Sadly it did not. Guess I have you to thank for my success.” I tell him bluntly as I take the generals office, walking over to a map on the wall that looks almost identical to the one we see in battle brief. ”You don’t sound too pleased about that. You should be thanking me for that training. Without it. Without me. You would be dead.” His tone venomous as he spits out the last part. ” Well technically I was dead till recently.” I throw back at him, earning a huff of amusement of him. I take in the details of the map in front of me. The details don’t match any map I have seen in battle brief. Either this is new and I am missing out on the update in the current class he has pulled me from. Or they’re hiding something. As I shift my attention from the map and back to Melgren as I turn and face him, I almost not a hint of nervousness. Something tells me they are hiding something. But its fleeting before a smug look takes over his features. A look I wish oh so badly I could wipe off his face. And one day I hoped I would. I wish he wasn’t the reason I was alive and thriving in the quadrant. But I was. Without his training I doubt I would have made it across that parapet. He had made me into what I was. He was the reason I was nearly proficient at all the weapons, had tied for the fastest time up the gauntlet, was doing so well with my signet. All of it was because of him and the training he had given me over the last five years. He was the reason I was alive.

”You we’re only dead to those who chose to believe it.” He drawls as he leans forward on the desk, motioning towards the chair I had chosen to ignore till now. “I never said to them you we’re dead. They just assumed.” I walk over and lower myself into the chair slowly, crossing my arms over my chest and resting an ankle on my opposite knee. The way he looks at me makes me want to run. Every fibre of my being tells me to run. But there’s no escape from him here. If I run he will just drag me back here or somewhere worse. I had to play his game, and hope I didn’t show how scared of him I was. Though that dwindled every day. Every day I got stronger. And one day I wouldn’t be afraid of him. His eyes flicker over to the patch that now adorns my uniform as of today. The compass patch I had earned due to my signet. My confidential signet.

”Carr has informed me of your signet. Psionic. Quite an unique signet. Though all the texts we have to hint towards such a thing are vague. All just ancient stories and fairy tails with no proof or merit to them. You are quite the enigma.” He drawls as a smirk forms on his face. “First you bond a dragon no one has ever heard of or seen, but clearly is one of the older dragons. And now you have a signet no one has ever heard of before.”

”Would you like a congratulations? An award for training me and preparing me for the quadrant and coming out with something none of you have seen before?” I snap back before I can think about it. My blood running cold. I had never spoken back like that to Melgren in the five years he had trained me. Knowing it would get me in a lot of trouble. But he just smiles. ”I mean we wouldn’t have found any of this if I hadn’t taken you with me that day. So I will take credit in a dragon and signet coming to light that can help our cause greatly. But for now I just want you to tell me about it so we can understand it.” He tells me as he stands and walks over the the bookshelf as if looking for something. ”For someone who only manifested their signet today there isn’t much I know. So far I can only control and move objects. Nothing else.” I tell him sternly as his fingers hover over the spines of the book.

”Carr seems to think you can do more. A lot more.” The way he turns his head and looks at me tells me he doesn’t believe something I’ve said. Either about what I can do or when it manifested. “But I guess we will have to wait and see what you can do as you train and strengthen it. If you can do anything like Carr predicts, you will be a great asset to us. Both you and that brother of yours.”

The glint in his eyes has my blood run cold again. Shit. I was naive to think I would be the only one he would be keeping tabs on. Of course he would be looking at Xaden as well. Probably hoping one of us would slip, give up something they we’re looking for. He walks back over to the desk, perching on the edge as he looks at me.

”Seems strong genes run in your family. Both you and your brother with powerful dragons and signets. But here’s hoping not everything runs in that family of yours.” I know with his emphasis on everything that he is referring to the rebellion our father had started. ”Tip toeing around the rebellion are we General?” I ask before I can stop myself. He looks at me almost impressed, as I bite back at him again. Not a look I was use to from him in regards to me.

”No point tip toeing around it. Just making sure you know what is at stake here. Don’t want you marked ones planning something. Not when we need every strong and capable rider we have with fewer and fewer dragons bonding every year.” I look him sternly in the eyes, and hope my words are convincing and he doesn’t see right through them. “We’ve already had our lives gambled with before. Watched our parents pay the price. Don’t exactly plan on ending up with the same fate General.” The smile he gives me in response doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Sending chills down my spine. God did he put me on edge. He didn’t trust us. None of them did. And none of them ever will while we had these marks on our skin. We would be constantly fighting to fit in here for the rest of our lives, and would never get the same respect as those without the marks. But hopefully one day we wouldn’t. If Xaden could pull off whatever he had planned, we would get out freedom back. But there was so much I still didn’t know. Not yet. But I knew better than to push Xaden. He would let me in fully when he was ready. Or when we didn’t have higher ups watching me so closely. ”I would like to hope not. But in my experience you lot seem to like gambling with your lives when it comes to those you care about. Willing to do anything to get revenge. Especially that friend of your brothers. Garrick was it?” He asks as if challenging me to react. I don’t give him the pleasure of a reaction as my heart skips a beat. Not only were Xaden and I under his watch, it seemed Garrick was as well. He may not have reacted to the movement on conscription day, but something tells me that Melgren noted Garrick’s movement on conscription day. Had noted his reaction to throwing that bag at Xaden’s feet that day. Unlike Xaden, Garrick had reacted to anything Melgren had done in regards to me. Even today he had gone to rush forward as he had appeared in the doorway to battle brief. Melgren may have appeared to have his attention elsewhere. But I knew he had noted everything Garrick had done since that day he had let them think I was dead. I had no doubt he had watched as Garrick had flown in instantly after I had landed after threshing. And now with confirmation Carr was in league with Melgren, I had no doubt some of the other professors were acting as Melgren's eyes and ears. I stand and smile at him. “Do you require anything else from me General? I’d like to get back to my classes.” Trying to end the conversation before he could get a reaction out of me. He merely nods. “That is all for now Riorson. Just remember to keep me updated on that signet of yours.” And with that he nods towards the door before pushing off the desk and turning back to the bookshelf. I don’t hesitate before turning on my heal and head towards the door. My muffled footsteps echoing around the now eerily quiet room. I push open the door of General Sorrengail’s office to meet the eyes of that General across the corridor as she watches me exit. The women who had overseen the execution of our parents. The women who stood there and did nothing as Melgren dragged me away from my father. Stood there and did nothing. But as I meet her eyes I detect a hint of sadness in my mind. Sadness and regret? And before I know it’s gone. As if it had been a fleeting memory that had crossed her mind and had quickly pushed it away. I quickly bow my head at her before turning and walking as quickly as I can back to the quadrant.

Part 23

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd

[fabuloustrash05]

Lord Dregg’s Children (TMNT 2012 OCs)

Concept: Lord Vringath Dregg is dead, but before his passing he laid 3 eggs to where he would be reincarnated in his children. The Dregg Triplets were born, each having a distinct characteristic from their father’s personality. Now the Triplets plot to avenge their father, rebuild his insect empire and become sworn enemies of the next generation of the Hamato family.

Droks Dregg

Male, 6’2”

Voice HC: Joel Perez

Signature color code: 534293 (dark purple)

Oldest (first one to hatch out the egg/chrysalis idk)

The most dangerous of the three siblings.

Narcissistic, very charismatic, low self-esteem if things don’t go his way.

Likes having control of everything and everyone, panics when he starts losing his grip. Everyone is a pawn to him. Stay in line and he’ll let you live (maybe)

Analyzes the situation before taking action. Plans ahead

Prefers hurting the opponent more mentally than physically

Defiantly a gossip, has little mini tick like creatures that fly around the galaxy listening in and reporting back to him

Needs to straggle something or someone

Extra talons grow out of his back, making him resemble a spider

Kroda Dregg

Female, 6’1”

Voice HC: Faye Mata

Signature color code: 05bbaa (turquoise)

Middle child, hatched soon after Droks

Lies and tells everyone she’s the oldest, competes with her big brother

Self absorbed, psychopathic and manipulative. Eerie charm

Doesn’t think, just acts. Droks often has to keep her in check

Perfectionist with her kills.

Built up rage, will lose her shit at the drop of the hat. She will bite you.

If she’s not good at something on her first try, it is officially “stupid and pointless” to her

Goes straight for the kill. Will give you a quick death. Or just eat you. Which she’s in the mood for

Her nails are like wasp stingers.

Envious that Tar can fly.

Tar Dregg

Male, 6’0”

Voice HC: Richard Steven Horvitz

Signature color code: eb5951 (medium red)

Youngest, took longest to hatch.

Siblings make fun of him for his height. He’s literally only 1-2 inches shorter than them

Very confident and pushy. Clever with insults/combacks. Ambitious with his talents.

Opinionated, he makes his presence known

Enjoys the slow and painful process of hurting his victims.

Finds his siblings bickering to be entertaining. Often tries to find ways to make them fight, even if it means starting fake drama.

Does what he’s told cause “meh I got nothing better to do so yolo”

Will betray his siblings for a single potato chip

Is the only sibling with wings

[hyunfilms]

blue side of the sky (lmh) | seventeen.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.1k

—chapter content/warnings: nothing too much for this chapter, cussing, crying, unloading lots of feelings, mostly oc x san centered, the start of turning a new leaf..

—a/n: merry christmas & happy new year, my loves! 🤍 the upcoming updates may be slower / may not be posted on time during my usual schedule just because i'm a little behind on where i wanna be with blue side. <33 there will probably be 5 more chapters left + 3 more cloudy days so we are slowly reaching the end! thank you for supporting me throughout this journey, you have no idea how much i appreciate you all. 🥰

San honestly doesn't think he's ever driven this fast in his life. But, as soon as he picked up your call and heard how distressed you were— he panicked. He races over to the floral shop as safely as possible, pulling up to a spot near the alley. When he jiggles the door knob, he realizes it's locked. He peeks in and doesn't see you in clear view; though, he does catch wind of something hitting the floor and shattering to pieces.

"Y/N?" He turns the corner and heads towards the back door, following the noise. He finally catches sight of your figure, back door slightly ajar. Your bent over on the counter before shoving the small vase next to you onto the floor. "Woah, Y/N. Hey." San says, pushing his way through the door. You don't hear him, or maybe you just don't seem to care right at this moment, but San calls for you again when he finds you tossing another piece to the floor. "Y/N." He says a little more sternly while gently grabbing at your arm. "You'll hurt yourself, please stop. Talk to me." Once you're able to let San's voice sink in, it finally pulls you out of the trance you were in.

"Sannie." You look at him before digging yourself into his arms, crying against his chest.

"Hey, what happened? Talk to me." San repeats, eyeing the mess on the floor— your broken pottery projects lying everywhere in pieces. "You're gonna hurt yourself, let's get you away from this." He says, navigating you through the broken parts until you hit the counter where the register is. You press your back against the edge and slide down to the floor, crying into your hands some more. "Y/N, it's gonna be okay." San says as he sits next to you on the floor and pulls you into arms again. 

"Sannie, they really hid it from me."

"Hid what?" San is asking a true, genuine question. Because again, he only knows the surface details of the accident. He only knows the surface of your breakup with Minho. He truthfully doesn't know what ensued before, during and even after— now. And even though you are heartbroken and torn about your friends, it feels a bit relieving to hear San question you.

At least you weren't the only single person in the dark. It felt like you were.

"Everything. They hid everything from me." You repeat, finally able to look San in the eye. You wipe away at the straggling tears, feeling like you could breathe for a moment. Maybe this was needed, maybe it was warranted. 

"Elaborate whenever you're ready. I'm all ears." And so you take another deep breath before relaying exactly what Minho said about you two. You started from the beginning, outlining how you met in high school and got close. How Minho ended up confessing his feelings for you during your junior year. Your blossoming relationship.

San nods. He listens. He hears you.

Then, you've turned to the sad parts. How Minho said he felt like you two had run its course. How he was truly infatuated by Kat, leaving you out of pure curiosity. How you've taken so long to rebuild that trust when he came back to work things out— just for it to come crumbling down again.

Felt much like the clouds that take over the blue sky when it's getting ready to rain. To storm.

"That night of the accident." You pause, letting out another shaky breath as you sniffle and fiddle with your fingers. San gives your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, nodding for you to continue on. "We got into an argument because Kat had texted him for help with something. I-I didn't really let him explain what it was about because I was so angry. I blew up. I assumed. I didn't wanna be there so I left." You look at San. "It makes sense now, you know? I remember seeing her at the café being all upset and Minho had to take her outside to talk."

"Yeah, I remember that." San adds softly.

"He had been seeing her even while I was in the hospital. Until after." You shake your head. "God, I feel so dumb for letting my feelings take over. I should've pressed on this more."

"No, don't blame yourself. He should've just told you." You sigh. 

"San. I still feel like I played a part in this because I let it happen." Your bottom lip pokes out, and the tears start falling. You're not even sure why you're crying at this point— maybe because you're hurt knowing the one person who you felt like would never hurt you, really hurt you, or because you feel a tad bit of regret for having given into Minho instead of San. You know you would have been forcing it if it were San though; unfortunately, you just feel the way you do for Minho. It hurts so, so much to think about. It still feels like after everything, Minho did choose Kat. Even though he says he loves you, and feels love when he sees you, you feel like his actions had spoken louder than everything else. 

At one point, you were his main priority, his everything.

Then, you became a second choice; another option.

To someone you love, still love dearly, and feel so much for.

That's what hurts the most.

Even though you love him and you crave his comfort, crave his kisses and his 'it'll be alright's,' you will need your time and space from him. From Jisung, too. From your friends. But, mainly him. 

To heal, to grow, to love; yourself, for you.

"It's such a mess. I feel like I took so many steps backwards, and it hurts." San is hurting for you. To be quite honest, he didn't expect all of this tonight. He didn't expect to hear these details, he didn't expect you, Minho and Kat to be in one huge mess. He didn't expect your friends [even JJ] to hide it for this long. He understood the need, but it was about time. The timing of it all.

Throughout all of this pain and hurt, he can still see how much you love Minho. It's the same look in your eyes from the beach that night. It's the same look because the person you love so, so much, is the same person who is capable of hurting you just as deep.

Nonetheless, it's the same look. You love Minho. You will always be his.

And that is probably the root of why it hurts you so, so much.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I know it hurts, but it's gonna be okay." San tries to shush you and calm you down. "You just need to take time to process this. No matter how long it takes. Let yourself feel it. Let yourself stash it away in the past when you are ready to. But for now, let yourself feel it and be hurt. You need to take time away from him and everyone else. That's all okay. They need to understand that."

"Why didn't they just tell me? Why didn't Minho just tell me? We—we were—" You look at him all doe-eyes, more tears threatening to spill from your bottom lid. 

"You don't have to explain. I know." It's the truth, and it only gives San validation. He knows you and Minho had been rekindling the flame, he knows you two were working on something. "He should have told you beforehand."

"I don't know how much it'd change, but I probably would have stopped myself before falling too deep. I would've given myself time before opening up to him. I really opened myself to Minho and let everything go. I felt safe to do so."

"And it's okay if that feeling comes back. It's okay if it doesn't. Either way, this is a learning experience for everyone and I only hope everyone takes the opportunity to grow from it." San really means that towards Minho. He loves JJ, and though he isn't entirely close to Minho, he does have respect for him. He wishes things happened differently. He wishes Minho was a bit wiser. But, we are humans who make mistakes. The only thing he can do now is learn and grow from it— avoid making the same mistakes, especially if he wants to continue having you in his life. However that may look like.

It will take time.

"You know.." He adds. "You don't have to respond to this or anything. I'm here for you, but I'm also trying to play devil's advocate because of JJ and the guys." San says. "I know your friends deeply care about you and love you. I can see why they did this. The timing of everything was just horrible, and I'm sorry it unfolded this way. It shouldn't have, and there were better ways to approach it. But, at the same time, I know they tried their best." San just holds you and lets you cry against him because he knows this is all you need right now. You were given the information you needed to know, now it's time to process it. And San will be there for you. He will help you no matter what.

So you cry, and you cry.

And you cry.

Letting yourself feel this out until you have nothing else to give.

"San?" You push off of him once you've been able to keep your crying to a minimum, gathering enough energy to break the silence.

"Yeah?"

"I shouldn't love him after all of this, right? I shouldn't." San shakes his head. "It would be so dumb of me to."

"Nah. Never dumb." He smiles a bit. "Love isn't an easy thing sometimes. You can still love someone even after all of that and that's valid. Your heart knows what it wants." He says. "Right now, you just need to make sure you put yourself first. That you love yourself first. All of it will fall into place as it should afterwards." You continue to look at him before shifting your attention to the hem of your sweater. San isn't sure what else to say because he doesn't want to make you feel worse. But, he chimes in once more with his two cents before holding space and allowing you to just be. "I probably sound like a broken record but things will get better." San lifts your chin to meet your eyes briefly. "You've been through so much already, Y/N. I'm sorry life has been difficult. You'll overcome this, and it will only make room for the things meant for you this time around." He allows you to rest your head on his shoulder while the two of you continue to sit on the floor in silence.

You're not sure where you stand, but you need time.

You need space.

No matter how hard it will be, you will need your space.

"Thank you, Sannie."

"Of course." He responds close to a whisper.

"I think I'll be okay now."

"You sure?"

"Mhm." You nod.

"Can I ask then? What was all of that?" San points to the broken pieces and you let out a heavy sigh.

"I made some stuff for Minho at the pottery class and stashed it here so I could surprise him with it. Gone now, I guess."

"I'll clean it up for you so you don't hurt yourself." He gives you a small smile, but you shake your head.

"I made the mess, so I should—" San stands to his feet and immediately grabs the broom and dustpan that sits nearby.

"Y/N. Seriously. Please. I'll take care of it. I really don't want you to hurt yourself. You've been through enough today." You sigh and stand to your feet, dusting yourself off as you follow San to the back and eye the mess you've made.

Just broken pieces of art lying everywhere on the floor. Your heart poured into those pieces, literally. Part of you regrets it, and it's painful to look at.

Much like everything else.

Despite San turning down your efforts to help clean, you do eventually tidy around in some parts so that Mrs. Pak doesn't come in wondering why things were messy and misplaced. At the same time, you're able to prep a few small things ahead of time before your shift tomorrow.

"Ready? Let's get you home so you can rest." San looks at you and you give him a simple nod. You shut off the lights and lock up, following San to his car around the corner. San opens the door for you, allowing you to slide in and silently strap on your seatbelt. As he begins to drive off, he adjusts the temperature in the car and lowers the volume a bit. "That okay?" You look at him and nod, leaning your head against the window and shutting your eyes.

"Yes. Don't mind me. I didn't eat much so I feel a bit queasy."

"Wanna grab something?"

"I'll just make it at home. Thanks, San."

"Okay, just let me know." And with that, San allows you to be. He is worried about you, but he knows the time will do you good. Even if you needed space from him too, he'd give that to you. He knows you are the priority, and he would do whatever it takes to help you heal.

When you finally get home, San quickly walks you to your door— giving you a big hug and holding you close. He reassures you that you can always call or text him if you need him, and that he'll try to drop by if he isn't too swamped with work tomorrow. You thank him again before softly closing the door and retreating into your quiet, humble abode.

Once you've washed up and gotten comfortable, you finally glance at your phone and quickly skim through the texts from Chan, Seungmin, Jisung. Your heart breaks a bit because you know they tried their best.

You will still need time.

You can't even begin to think about Minho right now because you're not sure where you lie with him. You opened up to him, laid out everything so genuinely, so raw— your feelings for him, your need, your attachment. 

His touch, his kisses. Everything.

But, no.

You know he was planning to tell you, you remember that very clearly. You're just having a hard time understanding why he didn't tell you sooner. Maybe you should've pressed on it more, maybe you should've tried harder to get it out of him before anything.

Either way, you are grateful he told you. But you wished it was earlier than later.

You are sad.

And you probably will be for awhile.

Rightfully so.

"Hi Mrs. Pak." You greet her as you prance into the shop. You're feeling a bit better today, given that you didn't answer any texts or force interactions with your bestfriends. Seeing San and being able to open up to him about everything definitely helped. Though, it is probably a little obvious to Mrs. Pak that you aren't functioning at 100% because—

"Hi sweetheart." Her eyes linger on you for a bit, even as you busy yourself around the back room. She can mainly tell by the way you don't follow up with anything right away. On top of that, you haven't been able to really meet her eyes. You are still bright, and you are still glowing. But you're quieter, and your movements are softer; safer. As if you're trying to keep yourself contained in one, small bubble for now. "Is everything alright?" You look at her and let out a shaky breath, feeling the sudden tears prick your eyes at the question.

"It will be." You barely let out, swallowing the lump in your throat as you try to hold back your tears.

"Want to tell me what happened? If you're ready." You nod. You do the same as you did with San yesterday, giving Mrs. Pak details from the very beginning. Of course, she'd have to step away in between to help customers— reassuring you that you didn't have to face most customers if you weren't up for it. You told her you'd be okay, admitting to her that you were here with San the day before just because you needed a place to run to that was away from family, friends. A few tears had escaped and ran down your cheeks during the time you had opened up to her, but you knew there wasn't much tears left to cry. 

Mrs. Pak looked you in the eye and apologized on their behalf, but she also believed that they only had good intentions. It's not surprising coming from her at all, no. As a matter of fact, she supported Minho in a certain way. She knew his decisions were stupid, she knew he made dumb mistakes. But, she believed that this was all necessary for his growth— for him to realize who was meant to be in his life, and how much they truly meant to him. Unfortunate it had to be this way, but she also reassured you that life had its weird ways of working, and that it just had to happen this way.

Things happened for a reason.

And it's totally okay to forgive, but never forget. It serves as a reminder that you only deserve the best, and that your friends, Minho especially, should have learned from this mistake— not taking steps backwards.

"Thanks Mrs. Pak." You give her a soft smile. "For everything."

"Everything will be okay. For all of you. Take your time. Your friends will understand." Mrs. Pak basically repeats what San had said. 

"Mm, yeah." Is all you respond with. Mrs. Pak gives your arm a reassuring squeeze before leaving you in the back to tend to more customers. You continue to prep more special-ordered bouquets, following specifics down to the T in order to keep customers happy. It isn't until a few hours later when you hear a familiar voice speaking to Mrs. Pak at the front.

"Is she here today?" You peek through the blinds seeing Jisung.

"I'm sorry, she—"

"It's okay." You walk out and give her a nod before your eyes shift to Jisung. 

"Cielo." You let out a breath. 

"Let's go outside." You look at Mrs. Pak and she sends a small smile, giving you the green light to step outside for a second. You lead him out the door and to the side, crossing your arms just as you turn your attention to him. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to see if you were okay. Y-you didn't answer my text, I kinda got—" You sigh and give him a sympathetic look. You do miss Jisung, and you know he deeply cares for you. But even with him, you feel like you need your time. You need your space.

You cannot be the same way you were with him right now.

"I know, I'm sorry." You let out a small sigh. "Jisung, when I said I needed time, I meant it. Not just a couple of hours, or a day or two." You emphasize. "Time."

"I'm sorry, I know you do." He says lowly. "I get worried. I'm afraid."

"I promise I'll reach out when I'm ready." His eyes soften while he continues to look at you. "Pachi, I need this." You remind him and he finally nods, eyes scanning his feet below him.

"Right, okay. Sorry cielo. Don't hesitate to call me whenever you need something. I'll be there."

"Thank you." You give him one last look before you scurry back into the shop.

"Are you okay, dear? I'm sorry, I wasn't sure if you wanted to see him."

"I'm okay, and I appreciate it, Mrs. Pak. Jisung.. he's just.." You purse your lips. "I think we've always been together so he's not used to this."

"That's okay. He just wanted to check, but I'm sure he understands now." 

"Hope so."

"Are you sure you want to finish your shift, Y/N? I can handle the shop today." You chuckle and shake your head.

"I'm okay, Mrs. Pak. I wanna be here." You throw your arm around her and give her a gentle squeeze. "Now, we still have four more of these bouquets to finish." Mrs. Pak giggles in agreement.

Meanwhile, Jisung's head hangs low as he walks back to his car. He's not gonna lie— he feels a bit defeated after seeing you, but he knows he can't force you or pressure you. He just misses his bestfriend, and the thing that scares him the most is letting you out of his sight once more.

He's afraid of possibly losing you again. He doesn't wanna revisit that moment, that feeling— ever.

His drive home is completely silent as he doesn't even wanna play his music. He stops by for a quick bite to eat, buying something for Minho since he hasn't been 100%. At least, he can focus a bit on being there for him while giving you the space you respectfully asked for and deserve.

"Yo." Jisung says, dropping the bag onto the dining table. "Got you something." Minho looks at him from the couch and gives him a small smile.

"Thanks."

"Are you heading anywhere today?" Minho shakes his head.

"JJ told me he had the café under control. Was gonna pop in and keep myself busy."

"You have class tonight?"

"Mm, yeah. Hyunjin's teaching." Minho stands to join Jisung at the dining table, sitting directly across from him. "Did you see Y/N today?"

"Yeah, I did." Jisung pops his container full of rice open, dipping a spoonful into his kimchi-jjigae. 

"She okay?"

"Think so. Didn't really get a chance to talk to her. She told me she really meant it when she asked for time." Minho nods, following Jisung's actions with his own food. "Feel kinda stupid, I didn't wanna pressure her or make her think we didn't care, but I just got worried and needed to see her."

"Yeah, I know." Minho clears his throat a bit. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For all of this. For the dumb shit I've pulled and for not telling her right away." Minho does a slight head tilt. "I just didn't think, that's all. Got way too caught up in having her back that I should've prioritized this first. You guys got all roped into this too, so I'm sorry I fucked it all up. It's on me."

"It's alright." Jisung says. "We all could've done better. We learn and we grow."

"Yeah."

"Are you doing okay, though?" Jisung can tell he isn't, but he figured posing the question could help Minho open up about it more if he chooses. Minho's eyes are red, slightly puffy. He's been tossing and turning in his sleep, and he feels awful. But, he knows it could never equate to what he put you through. And for that, he is sorry.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I wish I could talk to her but I'll wait until she's ready. However long that takes." He knows he shouldn't text you, call you. He won't. He'll respect your time and space and he'll let this fall into place as it should. After all, he fucked up. He messed this up. He acknowledges it, and he knows this is what he needs to give you.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hm?" Minho hums.

"What if she doesn't wanna get back together with you? What if she's ready to put that in the past?" Minho shrugs.

"Then so be it. I'm not gonna force her. It'll be hard, but I'll always put her first and be her bestfriend before anything. She deserves to be happy, however that looks like for her." Minho sighs. "I've put her through a lot so if she's ready to move on, then she is."

"Mm, yeah. I guess so."

"It'll hurt, yeah. But, can't blame anybody but myself for not doing better in the first place."

"I see." Jisung nods. "Everything will be okay. Over time."

"Hope so."

"You know, despite everything, I know you made Y/N really happy."

"Maybe, maybe not." Minho chuckles. "I mean, I hope I did at some point."

"You're still my bestfriend and I hope you don't let your mistakes define you. You've always been a good person, even through the dumb decisions and all. You have a good heart."

"Thanks." Minho swirls his spoon in his soup. "For always being there for me."

"I could say the same."

"Wanna play in a bit? Get your mind off of things before class?" 

"Yeah, we can." Minho chuckles. The two continue to talk about work and other updates before finishing their food and tidying up the table. Minho runs to his room to quickly change and get into his class clothes before hopping on a game with Jisung. Just as he's about to snatch his watch off of the stand, his eyes land on the picture sitting on his nightstand. He stares at it for a good minute and purses his lips— hoping the blue skies will return again.

⇢ 17.5 [cloudy days]: here

♡ taglist: @ppiri-bahng @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @sweetlikecherry @asjkdk @hoes4lino @skzddicted @skzho @edgaralienpoe @harui-zen @bestleeknowstan @havenwithleeknow @septicrebel @heesdazed @borahae-reads @yoontaethings @pearbunny @bintificreads @lukeys-giggle @ajxreads @everglowdaisies @allaboutsan @endzii23 @leeknowsramen @heres-your-ramen2000 @morningstardada @mal-lunar-28 @downbadreading @lilysophie @feelikecinderella @urmomma0324 @ddazed-lhs @djeniryuu @melanctton @i8rsie @maru-matt @sleepyleeji @taerifin @nattisbored @jisunglyricist @m111nho @drhsthl @nixtape-foryou @arminseas @guiltycoco @syuuji @sulkygyu @cadihyo @reianagarcia @leeknowyah @smndjdufuehr @dprkbyn @xxibreinaxx @mxnsxngie @reiheis @mellowmentalitydragon @vixensss

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

Henrycapolypse

Prompt: Time Travel: Break-it Worse | Word Count: 2449 | Rating: M | POV: Jeff, Henry, Spider (OC) | Relationships: None | CW: Torture, Major Character Death(s) | Tags: Protective to the point of psychotic uncle Wayne, Bitching El, Twilight-zone-esque weirdness

This is an entry for @corrodedcoffinfest's May Mayhem Bingo.

Ao3 link

divider by @/saradika-graphics

One of the few upsides of living in a town that's literally in pieces is that no one really gives a shit what goes on in the school hallways. When Higgins saw them sneak Wayne into the building, he just shrugged and went about his day. He probably thought Wayne was just here to pick up some of Eddie's shit. Less for him to throw out. He barely spared a glance at Dustin, who was crying so hard Steve was basically carrying him.

Steve is still carrying Dustin, who's too tired and hiccupy to walk on his own. Robin is clutching the box of Eddie's memorabilia they're going to use in the funeral. Wayne is walking ahead. He looks kind of dazed, like if he might float away and disappear. Lucas is straggling a little behind the pack, eyes firmly on the ground.

And yes. Jeff is still mad at the kid for temporarily shacking up with those basketball douchebags. But he's been assured multiple times that it was all an act. And everyone could use a little grace right now. So he slows down a little to walk besides Lucas.

"'m sorry," Lucas mutters, when Jeff gets right next to him.

"Yeah, that sucked," Jeff mutters, "but Erica said it was a necessary act so."

"I should have stepped in at the garage," Lucas says. He sounds far away, like he's playing and replaying that horrible day.

"And we shouldn't have said anything," Jeff says.

Lucas shrugs miserably and doesn't look up from the floor. Erica sneaks a glance at them before resolutely looking forward, lest anyone figure out that she cares about her brother actually, quite deeply.

"Look," Jeff lightly punches Lucas in the arm, "I believe Eddie didn't do it right? And if I'm going to believe, against all physical evidence, that Eddie didn't kill those four kids and rip the fabric of reality through some demonic ritual, I'm going to believe that you had some sort of a plan that got fucked sideways. And I'm going to believe that you're already sorrier than you have any reason to be." He grabs the younger boy by the shoulder and wheels him around. "So I'm good. We're good. Are we clear?"

Then Lucas cries.

Jeff wraps the kid in his arms and shoos the rest of the group along.

Erica darts ahead like she's just...

Well, she darts ahead like she's just seen something awful, like her older brother break down in tears right in front of her. Fortunately, the school's become quite used to seeing kids randomly collapse into a sobbing fit in the middle of the hallway about something or other. At least fifty people fell down the chasms that suddenly opened up all around town. More are missing. In a town this small, that means everyone lost someone.

"I'm alright now," Lucas finally says when he manages to get enough air to talk. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Jeff says. He gives the kid a final hug. He's too skinny. Feels like he might break. Like the rest of this town. "Man, we've got to pack some muscles on you kid," Jeff babbles as he leads them towards the drama room, "get ready to start hauling amps."

Lucas squeaks out something in protest but cracks a small smile. Maybe they can start healing.

No. They cannot start healing.

"So let me get this straight," Jeff inhales deep then exhales out. Calm. He's got to stay calm. "Eddie didn't do those murders, obviously. But we do know who did the murder. And we know who created the murderer. And none of you can say anything because of some stupid NDAs?!"

"Yeah, it was all--" Steve starts.

"Well I'm gonna guess that the NDAs meant jack fucking shit if you told all of us anyway," Doug points out, "we can go to the press! Clear Eddie's name!"

"Look, this isn't a joke. But the government's already killed people--" Steve starts.

"So what? We let everyone continue thinking that Eddie did this?!" Gareth yells.

"Enough!" Wayne yells so loud his voice echoes. So loud that it feels like the picture of Eddie they put up for the funeral might fall over. Jeff has never heard Wayne raise his voice.

"No one's gonna buy that there's a supernatural serial killer created by the gov'mt," Wayne points out, "and the ones that do will be too nutty to be of any help."

Like always, Wayne's got a point. Gareth kicks a chair in frustration.

"But I'm not doing nothing," Wayne continues, "this guy that created the monster is still 'live and kicking?"

The quiet girl, the one with the buzzcut, nods.

"And he's been doing more of this research?" Wayne asks her.

"Yes," she says.

"And where is he?" Wayne asks.

His tone is gentle. But he has this wild look in his eyes that remind Jeff of the one time he saw Al Munson.

"Wayne, what are you...planning?" Doug asks hesitantly.

"The less you kids know, the better," Wayne says simply, "Supergirl? Where is that man?"

"You can't kill him," the girl says simply.

"I never said--"

"I know. You can't kill him. Too much protection," the girl says.

Wayne purses his lips. "I can pull in some favors."

"So can I," the girl says, "You can't kill him alone. I know some people. They're bitchin'."

Jeff did not expect to hear that word from a girl who looks like an American Girl doll with its hair buzzed off.

"So we're doing it then," Gareth declares, chin up, "we're going to kill him."

The girl looks around the room a little doubtfully, as if she's trying to assess how much help they might be. Jeff puffs up and does his best to look big. Doug 'subtly' shows off that he can push the big-ass oak table they have. Gareth clears his throat and twirls his drumstick, throws it in the air, fumbles it.

The girl doesn't look convinced. But she shrugs and says yes anyway.

El's 'bitchin' friend, Kali, casually wipes the blood flowing from her nose. The two guards, hopefully the last guards before they can get to this Brenner, look right through them, lost in the world that Kali created. Gareth carefully leads another kid who's apparently disabling all the security systems. He can't do that with his eyes open, so Gareth is guiding him.

Huh, so drugs really do give people superpowers. Shame his mom probably hasn't even heard of LSD.

The guards continue to look at nothing. Kali nods at Jeff, who takes his crowbar and drives it into their skulls. There's a quiet crack, and the two slump to the ground.

The first kill was impossible. Doug threw up. Gareth's hand shook so hard El had to finish the job for him. Wayne just chopped through them like it was nothing, but that wild look is back in his eyes and he's walking with a stoop as if he's getting weighed down by all the lives he just took.

But after the second kill, it just started to feel like another errand. Walk. Bash a head in. Walk some more. Bash another head in. Rinse. Repeat. He knows, deep down, that he'll never recover from this. He'll see the face of those men in his dreams until his dying day. But this is for Eddie, for Hawkins, for all the little kids who got trapped in that lab then mowed down like vermin.

Still, he wonders if the guards had family.

El smashes the door behind the guard open. A prim guy in a too-neat suit and too-neat hair turns around. His eyes widen momentarily. Narrows.

"Eleven," he sneers, "eight, six. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

El, who had been nothing but resolute, crumples at this. Panics so hard that she accidentally warps the space around her, blocking all exit in the room. Wayne steps forward to hold her. He murmurs something and she buries herself into him. Brenner chooses that moment to try to run. But then he stops.

"He always underestimated me," Kali says simply. She circles Brenner then kicks him hard in the knees. The man crumples. She stomps down this time and Jeff hears a crack. "Didn't think visions were much use if I couldn't also blast people's heads open."

"Remind me to never underestimate you again," Jeff says. She smiles.

"Get him in that chair," she says. Jeff and Doug work together to drag him onto the chair. They have no ropes, but it's not like he's going to be able to go anywhere with his busted kneecaps. That was the deal. Kali gets them to Brenner. Then they'll let her take it slow. She stalks forward with a smile. Brenner wakes up with a start, sputtering.

"Hi papa," she croons. Then she grabs one of his nails with a plier and digs in. Brenner screams and screams as she goes meticulously goes through all ten fingers. Jeff covers his ears and reminds himself that he has to do this. They have to do this. This man is dangerous and as long as he lives, there will be more Vecna. More Hawkins. More Eddies. They have to do this.

Kali is jamming her pliers into Brenner's mouth when he finally says something that's not 'please' or 'stop'.

"I can make everything right!" He screams.

Kali pauses at that. She stands back. "What do you mean?" she asks.

"I discovered more implications of the wormhole we developed to open channels to the other dimension," Brenner babbles, "in laymen's term, a time machine. I can pull One out of the past and you can kill him here. That'll correct our timeline. Make it so none of this ever happened. You'll get your town back. You'll get your family back. You'll get everything back."

"That's stupid," Doug scoffs, "even if I believe you, which I don't, it'll create a time paradox."

"No, no," Brenner pleads, "it's not exactly time travel. It's multidimensional warping. The math all holds up. If we can just try--"

"I've never had something good happen from a good old 'the math all holds up'," Wayne growls.

"What have you got to lose?" Brenner asks, "if I'm wrong, finish killing me. But if I'm right..."

They all look at each other, then at the broken husk that's Brenner. It's stupid. Impossible. It doesn't even make sense. If they bring Vecna here from the past to kill him, and none of the terrible things ever happened, why would they have brought Vecna back here to kill him? But, he does have a point. What have they got to lose? Eddie is gone. The town is gone. Jeff's hands are irrevocably soaked in blood.

"It better be fast," Gareth finally snarls, "but sure, fuck it, we'll try your stupid time machine."

"It'll be fast," Brenner says desperately. "Press the button in that big machine in the center. It's already calibrated with One's DNA. I just need Eleven to channel her power to create the wormhole."

"You built a machine you can't run without El?" Wayne asks mildly.

"I trusted that she would ultimately see the grander vision," Brenner says, sounding very calm now despite his missing finger nails and busted kneecaps, "I had a rendezvous arranged."

Wayne takes one look at El's stricken face. "I see."

"But now that she's here anyway, we can--"

They never hear what Brenner would have said. Wayne strides forward and bashes his head in with the butt of his gun. Brenner slumps forward then topples off the chair.

"El, do you think you can make this thing work without him?" Wayne asks in that same terrifyingly mild tone. El nods and steps forward.

"And with the power of AI, we've managed to buttress our fraud detection by fifty percent, cutting costs by two hundred million dollars, or approximately ten percent of Q3 profits," Henry says grinning. The board nods, deeply impressed. "We're planning to spend a little of that to beef up our lobbying efforts. We've had some state regulators asking about the claims denials. Nothing to worry about, but we could use some friends."

"How much would the lobbying cost?" One of the board members ask.

"Cheap," Henry answers, "a lunch with a senator only costs five thousand dollars. And you'll see in slide ten that our lobbying efforts have had a twenty percent--"

The room swims.

Henry staggers back, suddenly overcome with nausea. Shit. Is he having a heart attack? He falls back, and braces himself for the impact. But he... Keeps. Falling. Falling. Falling...

Into a pile of himself. There's a five year old Henry squalling as he gets crushed under the piles and piles of his likeness. A mottled, burned, hideous version of him roars in panic as he struggles to stand. He's getting pushed up towards the ceiling. He can hear machinery popping, hissing, can hear different versions of himself materialize into the already cramped room. He can smell the rot of dead bodies beneath the writhing pile. Henry tries to turn and run, but his legs are trapped between a giant, hunk of marble and some evil looking alligator. The gator steps on him as it tries to slither away, but it doesn't get very far, not with the amount of shifting, wailing, panicking bodies roiling under it.

The last thing Henry sees is the ceiling coming towards him.

Then darkness.

The web shakes.

The spider rises from its slumber, confused. Its web is not supposed to shake. It is supposed to grow. Infinite branches stretching out farther even than the spider can see. Heedless of time and space and reason for none of that has a place here, a place that existed before any of those things poked their heads out from the ether.

Yet the web shakes.

The spider watches as a single, imperceptibly tiny thing gets torn out of every single branch of its sprawling web and hurtles towards one strand.

And these are tiny things. As small as the life of one being. But collected together, from every single strand, it gets heavy. Big enough to notice. The strand in question starts to bow, weighed down by the combined weight of the googleplex of dust (less than dust really). The spider skitters to the strand in question, which is already warping enough to take the whole section down with it.

The spider loves all the individual strands of its beautiful web, but it's not going to let a single line take the entire thing down. The spider snips the strand out with its fang and lets it sink, down, down, down into the ether.

[dirty-bosmer]

OC in fifteen

Tagged by @justafoxhound : share 15 lines or less of dialogue that showcases your OC's personality

This one was so much fun! I had to sift through a lot 😅 Tagging: @elavoria @thequeenofthewinter @gilgamish @kookaburra1701 @wispstalk @skyrim-forever @theoneandonlysemla @sylvienerevarine @lucien-lachance @bostoniangirl21

Going with Nim for this one and tried to pick quotes that were somewhat chronological:

1. "I bet you don't have any friends either. You're as pleasant as guar dung, and you look like a netch fart with a face."

2. "Were we supposed to kill him?" she asked, shaking her dagger free of the straggling bits of bunt flesh. "Sorry, I probably should have clarified earlier."

3. "Who are you becoming?" she asked it, tapping the face of the emerald as though it might respond. "Is that you in there? What are you doing?"

4. “Well only if there's more to it then. Please continue, Mr. Lachance. You have my undivided attention.”

5.. “Oh, little moss," she said to it. "Why couldn't I have been born such a little moss too?"

6. "Ah— oh." Nim looked back to the bottle like it was a long, lost lover returned from the dead. “Well then… a sip, maybe.”

7. "But it's our guild. It's our fight."

8. “We’ll fix this,” she said, reaching for Lorise's hands, holding them tighter than she'd held onto anything in her life. “I promise.”

9. “It’s quite alright, Master Wizard,” she mumbled hoarsely. “I really should go anyway. I need to, um, brew some potions.

10. “It makes me happy, Mathieu. Why is that such a terrible thing?”

11. “Because I’ve sold him a lie. A pretty one. One that masks all the ugliness inside me.”

12. Her face split into an ugly grin then, cracked like an open coffin. "Yes!" she cried out. "Yes, I'm fucking around! As soon as you turn your back, with everybody, on every corner!"

13. “Gods, Arquen. I’m just a woman. I’m not a war.”

14. “You watched gleefully as I tore my life apart. When you put your hands on me, I turned myself inside out. You touched pieces of me not even I’d seen before, and now what, Lucien? Now you’re scared of what lies beneath?”

15. "It’s me or something pretending to be me or I’m pretending to be it. I can’t tell, but I can feel it. Can you feel it? Have you ever? Have you ever looked at yourself and thought, ‘what will it take to get rid of you? Why do you keep doing this? What a truly remarkable feat that you’ve managed to fuck up your life this badly?’”

[kodaboda-ch33se]

I got a little bored but…

Master Shake x Carrie Anarchy headcanons by me

NOTE!! : Carrie is my oc, so this is an oc x canon, and warning for cringe

Carrie’s Side:

Master Shake was her enemy at first, but once he somewhat charms her she starts to develop feelings for him

She doesn’t really like bringing up her relationship with Master Shake back at her home town

She usually hides her feelings whenever they’re in public

Gets cuddly with Shake when she wants to be

She keeps his things that he got/gave her, such as gifts, his clothes, and she plants flowers he gave her in her garden.

Once her brothers and father finds out about her relationship, they were surprisingly supportive of her. They just don’t trust Shake 😭

Master Shake’s side:

Love, or h0rniness, at first sight

Knows he’s supposed to hate her but just can’t

Tried, and successfully, made Carrie have feelings for him.

Agrees to keep their relationship private from her hometown (before her family found out), but on the surface (the upper ground), that’s where all the relationship things come to play

He likes her not just for her body, but for her feisty attitude, weird species, and similar taste in music

Loves to annoy Carrie for fun, but once she gets a little heated he immediately stops and acts all pathetic.

Date Night:

Carrie wanted to go burn Carl’s house down but Shake took her to a restaurant.

“You’re such a sweetheart~.” “Oh uh, thanks.. uh, road kill.”

Carrie does NOT like the places due to it being infested with humans.

Shake is “using” Frylock’s credit card because the man’s literally broke asf 💀. Carrie brought her own money but either it’s not exactly the human currency or Shake said not to worry about it.

Well, Shake was maybe trying to steal a kiss from Carrie to make this date night even more splendid.

I can imagine Meatwad being somewhat a third wheel with Carrie being confused while Shake looking like he wants to straggle him. (But that’s for when he’s there)

[physzoo]

tfoc animatic!!!!

im still fleshing out the story but basically straggle is a decepticon who joined and was reformatted into a triple changer after the death/disappearance of his mentors/advisors

by the end of the war straggle was sorta lost especially since he was so used to the war at that point, but then it turns out one of his advisors, cargo (WHO IS ALSO AN AUTOBOT), was revived by the necrobot/mortilus when he decided to start saving ppl, so now straggles kinda having an identity crisis

[halixius]

Identity Crisis

Summary: Our favorite sad boy tries to reinvent himself for everyone else's sake.

Characters: Sebastian x OC Nico Word count: 2.2k Warnings: none

As the sun’s last rays snuggled deep into the western forest, Nico corralled the last of the straggling chickens into their coop and locked it up. He brushed his hands against dusty pants and gave one last look around the farm, nodding, satisfied with the day’s work. “C’mon, Griffmeister!” he called out and followed up with a series of short whistles. Griffin – a scruffy, brown stray who’d been dropped off by a neighbor last year – scrambled from behind the bushes where he’d been digging and tagged along at Nico’s heels up the path back to the house, his tail throwing off the rhythm of his gait with excited thrashing.

Toward the end of the path, Sebastian’s motorcycle was parked by the covered porch of their humble home. The sight of it drew a soft smile to Nico’s lips. “Well, look who beat us home,” he reached down to pat Griffin’s head and ruffle the dog’s slobber-damp cheeks. “Ugh, gross, buddy. You’re cute, but gross.” Griffin tilted his head with a whine and a bark, whole body shaking along with the whipping wags of his tail. Nico filled the pup’s bowl with kibble, then climbed the steps, unlaced his boots, and set them by the door. He took a minute to stretch out the kinks in his neck and shoulders, shrugging off the day and shifting from work mode to partner mode.

Continue Reading on AO3

[specialagentartemis]

14? i think you might have a couple to choose from lol

and/or 42, because that seems up your alley

OC Ask Game

14. Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory

I forget if I've ever shared the Defining Tragic Backstory Moment that entwines SecUnit A, Sky, and Tahmineh together but it really is the thing that needs to be untangled before they can all move forward together :''')

Tahmineh is a human miner. She knows full well that the SecUnits stationed in the mine aren't for her safety. (She's known this since her father was critically injured in a machinery accident and the SecUnit on duty attended to the machine first, and him second. He died before he reached Medical.)

She's a respected leader and organizer, and has been promoted to shift manager, and so client-side powers do get delegated to her now in emergencies... such as cave-ins.

Almost a year before Murderbot & Thiago arrive, the CobriReyna mine sees one of the worst cave-ins in recent history. Tahmineh is proving a hero and a champ organizing first-responder and rescue efforts down in the mine. She's focused on getting her human coworkers out.

She does not know, and if she knew she wouldn't care, that a SecUnit also got buried in the mineshaft collapse.

SecUnit A knows and cares, because the SecUnit that the mineshaft collapsed on top of was its friend. It's hard for SecUnits to make friends but this Unit is one of the only people in the world it can commiserate with and who sympathizes and cares and this tiny bit of friendship and camaraderie has been making life as a SecUnit bearable and now its friend is going to be abandoned in a collapsed mineshaft to die. Because it's equipment. Because it doesn't matter to anybody else.

Tahmineh does now have power to give orders when no higher-ranking employees are present and she's shouting at SecUnit A to get the straggling humans out. But if all the humans are gotten out, then the distance limit on governor module of the the trapped SecUnit will activate and kill it...

So SecUnit A alerts Tahmineh to the trapped SecUnit. Tahmineh's response is, I don't give a shit, the SecUnit can be retrieved after all the humans are safe. And SecUnit A can't actually refuse a human supervisor's order, but even as it's following her orders to help the humans, it says, in the most informative SecUnit Neutral voice it has, "Lost or damaged equipment is the responsibility of the employee operator or supervisor in charge of the sector, and damages may be billed to the employee responsible. A SecUnit's replacement cost is--"

And Tahmineh understands full well that this is a threat, that of course she can't pay the replacement cost for a lost SecUnit. And, livid, she snaps to SecUnit A, "Fine! Fucking fine, recover the valuable-fucking-equipment while I save all the human lives on this floor my own damn self, because we sure as hell know that equipment is more important than people--"

Tahmineh sees this as a crystallization of the profits-over-people, capital-is-more-valuable-than-lives attitude of the mine owners, and SecUnits are machinery that serves the owners' profit interests.

SecUnit A basically had to threaten a worker to allow her to let it rescue its friend from certain death because unlike her, it does not get to choose its own actions or priorities and has to wait for an order.

SecUnit A managed to dig Sky out of the rubble. I'm picturing SecUnit A carrying an incredibly battered Sky out of the mineshaft in its arms, Sky is bloody and beat up and crushed and falling apart and clinging to SecUnit A for all it's worth, with... the truly indescribable feeling, to a SecUnit, that there is anyone in this world who thinks it's worth saving. It's worth coming back for. SecUnit A took a big risk pushing back against direct orders because it would do anything it could to protect and retrieve Sky and make sure it was safe.

... though after the cubicle repair and and all the dust had settled turns out that Sky's knee joint was smashed in a way the cubicle was not able to properly fix. Sky survived but its knee doesn't connect right anymore, meaning it can't actually run, can't turn quickly on its right foot, and it walks with a kind of lurching gait. The miners quickly start calling it Limpy because of course they do and the mine owners are like. Fuckin SecUnit's defective now. And they plan to order a replacement and swap this one out the next supply ship that comes from that end of the Rim.

SecUnit A and Sky know that that's gonna be it. The end of the line. They're going to send Sky back to get repaired and memory-wiped (at best) or possibly just scrapped. Even if it survives, they're never going to see each other again; Sky isn't even going to remember that there was ever anyone who cared about it.

SecUnit A resents Tahmineh. Tahmineh resents SecUnits In General as an Emblem Of Corporate Oppression And Control. Sky is like. Trying to live as 'carpe diem' a life a mine-enforcer SecUnit can possibly live which is hard because. Y'know. SecUnit life. Also the chronic knee pain. Nobody's happy here.

Wow sure sounds like a powder keg for a rogue SecUnit posing as the augmented human security consultant for a fiery optimistic out of his depth anthropologist to step into huh.......

[mysticalprincesskitten]

Aegon II Targaryen x OC // House of the Dragon fanfic

Soft!Dark!Aegon II Targaryen x OFC, kinda Yandere!Aegon

Trigger warnings: darkish themes, bondage, kidnapping, kinda yandere?? Targcest, OC is Viserys and Aemma's daughter, OC is named Daenerys, OC looks like Elizabeth Olsen in my head, also total self-insert

Part 2

Bound to Aegon's bed, Daenerys slept often. It was the only activity left to her.

Her dreams were a patchwork of memories. The day she claimed Grey Ghost. Fits of nerves and flutters in her belly kept her awake the whole night prior during the voyage to Dragonstone. Father had promised she, Aegon and Aemond could attempt to bond with a dragon - providing they were “bold enough.”

“I shall claim Vermithor,” declared Aegon. In her dream he was nine years of age, three years younger than Daenerys. Tufts of silver hair straggled over his eyes, lit like lilac flames. “You see! I shall descend the Dragonmont and seek out the old king’s bronze beast, then I’ll fly him over Dragonstone for Father to see.”

Aegon buzzed, thrilled, but Daenerys was pensive. What if she failed to bond with a dragon? Rhaenyra had Syrax, but Daenerys’ cradle egg had never hatched. Was that a sign from the gods? Was she never to be as worthy as her sister? Was her dragon's blood tainted somehow?

She glanced at Aemond and saw her fears reflected in his eyes.

Aegon noticed her somber mood. “You can ride Silverwing,” he reassured her. “Then we can be Jaehaerys and Alysanne come again. The smallfolk will cheer for us when we fly over King's Landing.”

But it was not Silverwing who bore her weight above the clouds that fateful day. Daenerys had fled the Dragonmont after overhearing Ser Criston Cole hissing about her sister to the queen, Alicent nodding her agreement and spitting her own barbs at the heir to the Iron Throne. They would never dare say anything in Rhaenyra's presence. Her sister spoke with Syrax's strength, fillied with the golden dragon's fire. Daenerys wished she could be strong like Rhaenyra. Fleeing the Dragonmont, driven by a desperate urge to be as far away from the green queen as she could, she’d been clambering the jagged cliffs of Dragonstone blissfully alone when Grey Ghost found her.

Daenerys didn’t notice the grey dragon land next to her, at first. A flicker of silvery scales pale as morning mist danced in her peripheral; when she turned, the dragon stood devouring a plump green trout.

Grey Ghost was much smaller than Silverwing and Vermithor, smaller than Syrax and Seasmoke, her goodbrother Laenor’s grey dragon. Grey Ghost finished devouring the trout, then met her gaze with golden eyes. And Daenerys had known.

Father roared with laughter to see her riding the wild dragon. Saddeless, Daenerys clung to Grey Ghost with hands and thighs, as another dragon soared up to meet her. Aegon had claimed a dragon, as he said he would - not Vermithor, but a splendid young beast with golden scales and pale pink wing membranes.

Another memory followed. She was on dragonback once more; Grey Ghost had grown and so had she. A familiar roar shook the sky. Sunfyre, the beautiful golden dragon Aegon had claimed, banked in the clouds and levelled beside her. From his saddle, Aegon winked and yelled something lost to the wind. Daenerys grinned, blew him a kiss.

And then her feet were on sold ground again, her hands trembling slightly at the eyes of a crowded sept full of people all fixed on her, high on the dais in her wedding silks. Aegon brushed a silver curl from her face as he wrapped a black-and-red cloak blazoned with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen over her shoulders. The queen had tried to insist Aegon cloak her in green - to distinguish her maiden's cloak from her wedding cloak, she reasoned - but Daenerys dug in her heels until Father relented. She would marry Aegon Targaryen, not Aegon Hightower.

Aegon's touch comforted her. Suddenly it was just the two of them, only the two of them; they were the only people in the world, their lips roaming each others, his warm hands on her breasts, cupping between her thighs…

Daenerys shifted, sighing as she floated between sleep and waking.

The hand between her thigh was firm and unyielding, persistent in its pursuit of pleasure.

“Mmm… Aegon…”

A chuckle behind her broke the spell, wrenching her back to the present.

“See? I knew you weren’t mad at me really.”

“Get off me!”

Aegon sighed. “I spoke too soon.”

Candlelight cast a dim light in the king’s bedchambers. Aegon lay behind her on the bed, shirtless, his breeches unlaced. The pale skin of his chest shone like moonglow.

“You do not get to touch me,” Daenerys snarled, “not anymore!”

Aegon glowered. “You are my wife.”

“I am your hostage.”

“Can a queen be hostage in her own royal keep?”

“You are a fool. Rhaenyra will come. She and Daemon will bring fire and blood to this city now that you have stolen her throne.”

Aegon sighed. He sat up, tears in his eyes.

“Rhaenyra would have put me and my family to the sword the moment she was crowned. So long as a trueborn Targaryen son lives, her claim to the throne is weakened. You know she has never held any love for me.”

He was correct there. Even Daenerys could not defend her sister in that regard. Daenerys remembered running into her sister's arms for maternal comfort after the death of Aemma Arryn.. Rhaenyra's arms held comfort for Daenerys, but not Aegon. One time, after they had been playing come-into-my-castle in the godswood, Aegon had tried to hug Rhaenyra, returning from a flight on Syrax, as Daenerys had. Their sister had looked at the little boy like he had greyscale. “She would not have killed you in cold blood. Your mother and grandfather have been filling your ears with poison to further their ambition. They want the throne for themselves. For House Hightower, not House Targaryen."

"You believe Rhaenyra would have allowed us to live?"

"No man or woman is so accursed as the kinslayer.”

“Even if Rhaenyra had not called for my head, Daemon would have.”

He was correct there, too. Daenerys had faith in her sister, would vouch for her. She could not say the same for Daemon.

“War was inevitable,” Aegon exclaimed softly. “Please, Nerys. I need you. I cannot walk this path alone.”

His hands returned, wine-stained breath ghosting her face. “And the king needs an heir…” he whispered.

[alienatedpixels]

✰ Intro Post For Ino Because I Forget People Don’t Automatically Know About My God Awful Characters ✰

Just a simple introduction to the purple bug you might see around on my blog ♡

There’s art of her at the bottom of the post just in case :]

You can always ask about her!!! I am not shy about answering oc related questions >:3

***NOT a roleplaying thing***

Who is Ino Anyways?

Ino is my god awful self-insert/sona I made almost exclusively to selfship with Black Beetle.

Does She Even Have A Personality?

Of course she does!! What kind of sona would she be if I didn’t break off some vile part of my personality and imbue it with a body?

Comprehensively, however she is:

✮ Compassionate (to a fault)

✮ Introspective

✮ Very Social

✮ Filled with compressed, distilled, vitriolic hatred for almost anything that breathes

✮ Probably a little too sadistic

✮ Usually friendly though

✮ Stupid good at manipulation

A Brief But Detailed Summary of Her Backstory

Ino escaped a highly abusive home at 20~ish years old and ran directly to the Reach, despite having escaped them before. Idk how she got there but she was so beaten and broken it took months to fix. She lives with them now :3

Why’d they let her live if she was so damaged?

I asked myself this as well and decided it’s because they were watching her for the two years she had her scarab on earth. Her resilience and general hatred towards the people around her allowed them to steer her right into their ship, literally.

Is her scarab even on-mode?

Yep :) there’s nothing wrong with it. My reasoning for this is because she was fighting a blood infection when she found it and it didn’t have time to control her body. Not to mention Ino was stuck in a tricky situation that required a lot of precision to navigate.

Why is Ino sick so often?

Ino would often fall ill before she found her scarab, and that’s precisely what happened when she found it. Ino is albino, so her immune system is a bit weaker than most. It’d also take her longer to heal since she was severely malnourished for quite some time.

Alright, So What Does Ino Even Do?

Having joined the Reach, Ino serves two purposes: a negotiator, because she is very manipulative and can sweet talk just about anyone, and an exterminator, taking out the last straggling resistance of a species. For both these roles, Ino appears distinctly different, and only appears in public, non violent meetings without her armor, but heavily dressed.

As for when she’s not doing anything in particular, she lives like a lazy fat cat that used to be a stray. You can find her dozing off in patches of sunlight from the nearest star or lazily stretching out across a chair. If she doesn’t need to move, she won’t, but that doesn’t affect her performance overall.

So, Why Black Beetle?

Because I like him. For Ino however, he was just the nearest large guy who didn’t seem to mind her presence. She kinda stayed far off from him but eventually kind of scooted closer over a couple weeks. He wasn’t threatening to her and she just kind of decided he was the designated Safe Person. Because he showed her basic decency. To be fair I don’t think he’d mind her too much because I think he’s either seen or heard of what Ino had gone through just to get there.

Didn’t Black Beetle lose his scarab?

Yeah :( but not in this au thing because Ino jumped in last second. Don’t think her ass won, she got flayed like a fish because she miscalculated her next move. She provided enough of a distraction that Black Beetle kept his scarab, he was just kinda knocked the absolute fuck out. Ino lived btw she’s fine, she just feels bad for traumatizing everyone.

Art Of Her Because Of Reasons

The criminal herself

[softmoonlightmelody]

more on the dead crown ocs mayhaps?

there's a lot of them, but most of them are from former iterations of the same world (which were very, very different). so, here. first off, the naming is all over the place. i will have to do a big revamp of most of the names at some point.

So Celent actually has two siblings: Artarin, their brother, who has the (dubious) duty of killing them. Yeah that's tough. And a younger sister, Iluta.

Now the reason that's kind of hard to picture is because Iluta and Celent (in the very first iteration) were the same character - Celent took the name (or at least the remnants of it), as well as the main-character-ship, Iluta took the gender and also the girlfriend.

Which leads me into Artarin and Iluta's respective partners. Milin, Artarin's girlfriend (who becomes his fiancée at some point), is by all accounts, a genius. She's really into etymology. Iluta's girlfriend Galanya is not well developed! But she and Iluta are slightly toxic but also really in love? I think at some point they'll straggle to some kind of healthiness but not yet.

Side note: Galanya is a fusion of two different characters. Proto-Celent's girlfriend and also Amisia's sister.

Which brings us to Amisia. The most important thing to know about her is that she is dead. She has been dead - in fact, she's one of Sariya's first "victims", so to speak. The other point of interest is that she loved writing poetry. Good poetry.

This is a point of foreshadowing.

And one last oc: Steris, a journalist. Used to be Celent's best friend.

These characters are all so different from their first iterations, honestly, that they're basically completely different characters now.