#why am i posting this in the height of everyone elses amazing oc’s

[linalilia]

[meet the prisoners!] prisoner 010: himura reina

my last prisoner oc LET'S GO. tbh it was really hard for me to come up with a design for her but now her design is definitely one of my favorites! idk i just really like how she looks :)

as i said this is my last prisoner oc and that means i'm gonna post my guard ocs after her! very excited, hehe..

General info:

Name: Himura Reina (緋村伶永) (Her last name means "scarlet" and "town" and her first name means "actor, performer" and "eternity")

Age: 20 y/o

Gender: Female

Birthday: February 7 (Aquarius)

Blood type: AB

Height: 163 cm

Image color: #9AB2C8

Occupation: Unemployed

Personality: Reina is.. a very strange young woman. Unpredictable and chaotic, it's hard to say what her true intentions and motives are. It feels like she's plotting something, but at the same time it feels like she's only pretending and she's just messing around. She proudly claims to be the most dangerous prisoner here, she even confessed that she's actually a serial killer.. But for some reason, guards refuse to believe her. It's just so weird, almost all prisoners think that they did nothing wrong and they want to be voted innocent, meanwhile Reina is so desperate, she's basically begging Eiji and Miki to vote her guilty. Why would anyone do something like that? And they doubt that Reina is the type of person to hate herself for her crimes. What's even more interesting is that Reina actually wants to see if the whole "prisoners can't lie" thing is true and she wants to intentionally mislead Eiji and Miki with her MV. Why? Oh, she just wants them to know how "evil" she really is, like, she would really go that far to hide her crimes!.. But then why did she even say that she's a serial killer? Or maybe her crime is actually different and she just doesn't want the guards to see it? Maybe it's easier for her to say that she's a dangerous serial killer than confess to her real crime?

MV info.

Which canon Milgram song she would cover: MeMe. Honestly, this is one of my favorite covers to imagine because I just know that it would sound amazing and also it just.. man, I think it would fit her character so well, but not because she's similar to Mikoto in any way, it's because Reina wants people to believe that she's more dangerous than she really is. It's like she actually wants to do the same thing Mikoto did with his song and go "haha you guys thought i was the most normal one here but y'all were so wrong :D", so of course, she would sing MeMe to make people believe there's more to her crime! Also as a bonus, I like to imagine her singing the "Why am I here, it must be a mistake" parts in, like, this "mocking" way, like she doesn't actually believe her own words and she knows well that all of this is just an act.. but hey, maybe people will actually find her scary now.

Which DECO*27 song she would cover: To be honest, it was a bit hard to find a song for her. Maybe I should've picked Liar Dance for her and not Naomi, but even though it definitely has her vibes, I don't think the voice that I imagine her to have would be good for that song. So I decided to go with Seigi no Turret! I think it's very Reinacore, especially when you read the lyrics ("Good lies and bad lies are all jumbled up", "Come on, be happy—it’s what you wished for", "I find myself wanting to hide my sadness", "Darkness was better") Though I have to admit that some lyrics sound a lot like Asahi, for example, "You want to throw away your things, but strangely start wanting other people's things" or "That's selfish, where's your mama? Inconvenience leaves you bawling like a baby" or "The stuff everyone else has is exactly what I don't have" 👀

If she could cover a song by a different Vocaloid producer, which one would it be: Again, I had to think a lot about this and I think I'll go with Shirokuro Reversi by shitoo. It's so fun to imagine her changing her voice a bit to sound like two different people and also yeah, Reina's moral complex is.. something and it really does feel like there are two different people fighting inside of her. Reina claims that she doesn't feel any guilt and that she's even proud of her crimes, but also.. sometimes it feels like she's this close to snapping because of how much she actually hates herself.

Her MV description:

Her MV would mostly have only black, gray and white colors, but it would become brighter closer to the end. Reina's image color also appears in some scenes.

The video starts with Reina and her friends going somewhere together. They're laughing, smiling and simply having a great time and enjoying each other's company. Suddenly, one of Reina's friends points at a girl standing there looking lost and confused. Reina's friends start whispering about something and she nods and agrees with them. The girl turns around and sees all of them standing right in front of her. She looks relieved and she starts explaining her situation, they agree to help her. The girl goes with them, but she starts noticing that the colors are becoming even darker and that there's something wrong about the way Reina and her friends smile. Right when she's about to leave, Reina's friends stop her and look at their leader, waiting for her orders. Reina simply nods again. All of them run away with the girl's bag and they leave her lying on the ground. It doesn't look like they killed her, but they definitely beat her up.

We can see that Reina and her friends did the same thing to many other people and they enjoyed it every time, especially Reina. The lyrics mention that Reina doesn't have a motive for doing all of this, she just likes spending time with her friends and they see her as their leader, so.. she can't really say no to them. We can also see them buying things with those people's money, like jewelry or clothes. And again, the lyrics say that Reina is actually doing great, it's not like she has problems with money or anything like that, she just thinks it's fun. Maybe she just likes making people suffer, haha..

Later we can see Reina getting a call from her friend. She gets really excited and right when she's about to leave the house, someone stops her. She just rolls her eyes and tries to come up with an excuse, but eventually this turns into a heated argument and Reina ends up running away in tears. But while she's running, she suddenly notices something. She sees footprints that are the exact same color as her image color. She slowly becomes more and more nervous and she decides to follow the footprints. The video also starts "getting its colors back" and it's not so monochrome anymore. Black, white and gray are completely gone when Reina finds her friends and sees that they beat someone up again, but this time it actually looks like that person is almost dead and you can see blood under them and it's also Reina's image color.

Before we can see how Reina feels about this, everything goes black and a second later the colors are back again and we can see Reina laughing with her friends and pointing at their victim. But then, her friends realize something and they look at Reina and they look at the victim again. Their face expressions change completely and they look so shocked, it even looks like they regret what they've done. They try to calm Reina down, but she only starts laughing louder and then she falls on the ground. Now she's crying and laughing at the same time. We can't actually see the victim, but we can see that person's sneakers covered in something that is most likely supposed to be blood, but again, it's not red and it's Reina's image color. The lyrics just keep repeating "I did it, I did it, I did it, I did it.." until the MV ends, but we can hear Reina saying "And I had fun" even though it's obvious that it's painful for her to say it and she's not being honest with herself.

Trailer 1 Voicelines:

"Hi, hi! Himura Reina here! I'm 20 years old and my occupation is.. um, being the cutest serial killer, hehe~ Just kidding.. or maybe what I'm saying is true. Who knows? You two will have to find that out, that's, like, your job here. But hey, you know what to do if I turn out to be the most dangerous criminal here, right? So do your best~"

"Come on, dad, it's not that serious! Those people deserved it anyway! And it's not like I'm a murderer or anything, I just.. you know, punch them one or two times, but that's it!"

Trivia:

You want to know more about her crimes? Well, she literally said that you'll have to find that out yourself, so.. but yes, she will tell you that she had more than 50 victims. Do you believe her though?

Of course, someone like her deserves a guilty verdict, right? That's what she thinks, at least.

She's very close with Yurika and she likes her a lot and thinks they're actually really similar. She also gets along with Aimi, but I wouldn't say that they're very close. She doesn't like Eiko that much though.. And just like Yurika, she's not that close with the male prisoners, but she likes to tease Akio and Asahi. She also thinks that the way Shun forgets everything so easily and says whatever comes to his mind is funny.

Riku and Reina's theme is "Guilt" or "Blame-shifting". Riku likes to say that what he did was for everyone's good and also, people actually encouraged him to do it. They wanted him to commit that crime, so he had no other choice. However, Riku's friends don't do anything like that in his MV, actually, the worst thing they've done in his MV is calling someone talented and accidentally making Riku have a breakdown because of that. Meanwhile Reina's friends do so many horrible things in her MV.. but she never actually mentions them. It's all about her being dangerous, it's all about her being this insane murderer, her friends don't have anything to do with it. So.. who is actually the guilty one here?

[ri-ahhh]

for the win

After dealing with a lifetime of insecurities, Winnie Walker finally gets the courage to pursue her dreams, with a few bumps along the way. But that confidence may not carry over when it comes to a certain hazel-eyed football player who’s had her attention for much too long.

A/N: this was a random inspo that hit me out of nowhere a while ago and I was gonna make it an epic oneshot, but I think I’ll just break it into parts instead. So, hence, this is part one. Hopefully you like it enough for it to be even worth posting more.

warnings: none yet, other than this is def gonna be as cheesy as you think it is

***

Winnie Walker has always considered herself an enigma. Not in that annoying, ‘I’m so cute and quirky’ type of way, but rather in the way that made her someone who never quite fit into one defined space. The kind perfected by years of self doubt, an emotionally distant mother, and the random ebb and flow of confidences and insecurities that always helps her remember that she is, in fact, perfectly un-extraordinary: her face is too round, but she’s always been called pretty; her personality is dry enough that she finds it challenging making female friends, but she fits in well with the boys; and she has a penchant for being the last one to talk about anything she might be feeling until she puts a pen to paper and speaks through the mouths of others.

Sports and writing were her main passions, but it still took until her senior year of high school to decide that she wanted to be a sports journalist. Not just a journalist, though -- more than anything, she dreamed of stepping out into the light as a broadcaster. Shy by nature but an athlete at heart, it once again put her in that enigmatic grey space where she wasn’t sure what the hell she was thinking.

But it’s what her heart was calling for her to do. For the first time in her life, Winnie Walker felt sure about something despite everyone’s doubts -- including her own. She grew up an athlete, and some of her fondest memories as a child were caught between either being in her dad’s man cave with all of his friends, cheering on their team of choice for whatever sport was on, discussing heatedly what plays should or shouldn’t have taken place. Or, on the volleyball court. 

The full ride offer from USC that was presented but never came to fruition because of a devastating knee injury in one of her last club tournaments haunted Winnie in the months leading up to her high school graduation. 

Her mother, Dahlia, was not-so-secretly thrilled. A stage mother through and through, she had always supported her daughter as she made headway in her sport as a star player, but it was an open point of contention that Winnie planned to follow her passion for it all the way to college. She wanted her middle daughter to attend the local university, get a nice marketing degree, and settle into a high rise in downtown Dallas, where she could point at during brunch with her friends and brag about the pretty penny her kid made with her perfectly nice degree she attained in her perfectly nice hometown. 

That’s not Winnie, though, and everyone except Dahlia knew it. No one was all too surprised that she still wanted to escape to California (again, except her mother), even if they were slightly shocked about her decision for a major. The reactions from her friends and sisters and dad had her even more excited as she scanned the email of her academic acceptance into USC. It finally gave her the courage to spill the beans to her mother as well.

Dahlia Walker very much scoffed in the face of her quiet, introverted, hopeful daughter sitting across the kitchen island while she scrubbed at the dishes from dinner.

“Winona, sweetie, you refused to even speak at your sister’s wedding as the maid of honor, and you want to be on TV? With all those... men?”

Winnie cringed a little bit and rolled her eyes at the slightly far-off look on her mother’s face as she no doubt started imagining the sweaty athletes the reporters would stand next to post-game.

“You don’t think I could do it?” she asked flatly, flicking a chip of her nail polish off her finger so it flew across the otherwise spotless granite — her mom hated when she did that. 

Dahlia’s hands picked up their pace again in the suds, slowed down by whatever middle-aged fantasy was going on in her mind. She shook her head, the highlights in her perfectly styled blonde bob shifting under the recessed lights.

“The girls who do that are just so bouncy. Friendly. They curl their hair.”

Winnie bit her lip. She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. Her body felt deflated. “I knew I could count on you to be supportive.”

“Oh honey, I’m just trying to be realistic with you,” her mother said dismissively. Like she didn’t realize the pang her words caused to spread in Winnie’s chest; it should have been be all-too familiar by then, but the sting was never weakened with age or predictability. “And California? Are you really ready to be so far from home? You hardly ever even leave your room.”

It had taken everything in Winnie to hold back the open scoff she longed to throw at her mother; instead, she just stood up and left the kitchen, along with any childish hope that Dahlia might ever make an effort to really know her middle daughter.

Because anyone that knew Winona Elle Walker could predict just how much she would thrive in California. In the persistent sunshine that never quite reached the peak of being too hot for very long, unlike the nearly six months of 90 and 100-plus degree days of summer she knew so well in Texas. Within close proximity to a beach that didn’t have swamp-colored water washing ashore.

In a place well over a thousand miles away from Dahlia.

And that’s exactly how Winnie found herself in LA: thriving. She made friends easily, enjoyed life on the USC campus while she studied the exact major she had set out for the first day she sat down in her first class -- Navigating News in the Digital Age class -- and it was a relatively cheap flight home if she ever missed it too much. Winnie started feeling less like an enigma, and more like someone whose quirks were becoming more of a benefit to her success than she could have ever imagined.

Now, as a woman in her senior year, nearly 22 and set to graduate in only a few months time, she’s finally up for the most coveted position in her major: being the prime time student reporter at the biggest sporting events of the school’s entire athletic program — the Trojan football games. Reporting at football games was a job always reserved for seniors, and she had been driving her roommate — and best friend in California — Naomi crazy all summer prepping for the spot’s audition.

“Winnie, babe, you know the plays backwards and forwards. You’ve understood more about the rules of football since you were a kid than I’ll ever know as a grown woman. You have all the key players’ and coaches’ names and numbers memorized. You couldn’t be any more prepared,” she smiles, good-natured irritation clear in her eyes and behind the blinding smile that shone from her mocha-colored skin.

It softens some when Winnie stood from the couch, and Naomi reaches over and slaps her retreating ass just hard enough to make Winnie yelp and giggle. “Not to mention those squats are paying off big time, bitch. You’re gonna kill it.”

Winnie rolls her eyes and continues to make her way to the kitchen to refill her wine glass. “The camera won’t see my ass, but thanks.”

Naomi winks. “No. But Grayson Dolan might.”

Grayson Dolan — the walk-on that had stunned everyone when he was thrown into a game his freshman year after two of the starting tight ends had become injured on two consecutive plays. Now a senior himself, he’s led the team ever since in receiving yards, receptions, and TD’s, and is a clear prospect for the NFL in the coming months.

He also happens to be the player Winnie had drunkenly admitted she had a crush on during a girls night last year, and her friends have yet to let her live it down. She had felt ridiculous saying she had a crush as a 21 year-old, but that’s really all it was; he was hot, an extremely talented player, and she barely knew him beyond that one time he had spilled a drink on her at a frat party, and the rather interesting reputation that followed him around campus. There was nothing more to it.

Even if her attraction to him hasn’t died down in the passing time.

Winnie only blushes and pours herself a little extra, blaming the Maison No. 9 when Naomi throws her head back with a cackle and calls out the matching pink in her cheeks.

The morning of her audition, a mere two weeks into her fall semester, Winnie has butterflies fluttering madly in the pit of her belly. Her truer nature of being somewhat shy and timid in these situations has never left, always flaring up in moments of self-doubt and unpredictability. Undoubtedly, however, this audition deserves all the nerves; it’s a clear stepping stone into network broadcasting, and would almost guarantee her a spot as an intern at FOX Sports next semester.

She stares at herself in the mirror for a moment, silently urging herself to get her shit together, and takes a deep breath before eyeing Naomi’s curling iron plugged in by the sink adjacent to her own.

Winnie hasn’t curled her hair once in the nearly four years she’d been in LA. Not for nights out, or auditions, or even a date. A brief moment of madness overtakes her as she stands there staring at the metal device, her hand starting to reach out as words that should be long forgotten ring loud and clear in her head. For a second, the pale beige paint of her apartment bathroom turns the light blue and grey color scheme of her childhood one. Her mom had ‘surprised’ her with the the renovation one year when she decided to redecorate the house while Winnie was at volleyball camp, insisting she had chosen Winnie’s favorite colors, when in reality it simply matched the rest of the monotone suburban house that Winnie secretly couldn’t stand. It was boring, and typical, and...stuck, despite its relative newness.

With that, the fog clears as quickly as it had come, and she sets her jaw determinedly. She hasn’t let Dahlia psych her out for this long; she isn’t about to let now be the first time since she’s been out here on her own.

And maybe Naomi was right. Maybe she’d catch a certain tight end’s eye with a tight end of her own, after all.

The nausea suddenly returns as she shakes her head and reaches for her straightener instead, flicking it on before sectioning off her hair.

“No wonder you’re so fucking single, Win.”

[musehyacinthus]

Shoot Your Shot: Part 1

This is my first published work in over a decade, and I'm so excited to share it with everyone! Dash is my oldest and most treasured oc, and I'm so happy that I finally have the confidence to allow everyone else a peek into her life. This was originally supposed to be a short one shot, but is now going to be a 2(?) part series. I will hopefully be posting more work in the future that explores more of her background, as well as introducing some of my other oc's.

It was June, and the air was warm and sticky, which wasn’t ideal; the humidity made Dash’s hair all frizzy, and it always seemed to happen on a day when she wanted to make meringue.

This morning in particular, her eyes snapped open, bolting upright in her bed with a gasp. She had been having the most amazing dream, in which she was about to take a bite of the biggest, most beautiful lemon meringue pie she had ever seen. However, just as the fork reached her mouth, she woke up, returning to the sad reality where she did not have a mouth watering dessert in front of her. She smacked her lips, trying to recall what the pie had tasted like, but it was already gone. Tragic.

It was then that it dawned on her that she had the ingredients to bring that beautiful pie to life in the kitchen. In an instant, she rushed to her bedroom window. Maybe, if she was lucky, the weather would be on her side today. She pried open the window, a warm, thick breeze blowing against her skin. She groaned. No good; meringue wouldn’t peak in the humidity. No matter how good at baking someone is, they’re no match for mother nature. Pursing her lips, she pulled the latch shut, deciding to settle for banana bread muffins instead.

A couple of hours later, the muffins were nestled in her bag as she hopped off the trolley that crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Thanks!” Dash chirped to the driver, exchanging waves with the man before she bounced away, not noticing the large, gray clouds looming on the horizon.

She clicked her tongue rhythmically as she walked, matching the beat to her steps and scanning the docks for her friend, Twitchy. The purpose of her trip had been to return a book he lent her, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A group of four other teenagers had gathered nearby at the edge of the docks, crouching in a large circle on the ground. Curious, she inched forward, craning her neck to see what was going on.

As she approached, she could see they were surrounding a long piece of brown string that was tied in a circle, surrounding a cluster of marbles.

Her heart skipped a beat. She was fantastic at marbles! She always kept her own pouch on her in case of a marble emergency, which happened more often than one might think.

Now that she was closer, Dash knew the kids to be Newsies like herself from her other visits to the borough. Among the group was a short, round faced girl with glasses and hundreds of freckles who Dash remembered was named Abigail. Her curly, brown hair was pulled back into two braids, her eyebrows knit with frustration as she gazed down at the ring. There was also a pale, skinny boy with sandy, blond hair and brown eyes that Dash didn’t recognize, and a tall boy with broad shoulders and dark hair standing just behind Abigail and watching the game intently. The way he hovered over her, he seemed almost like a bodyguard. What was his name again? Something with a chuh sound…. Chuck? No. Chatter! That was it! She remembered now, she found it funny the first time she learned it because Chatter really didn’t say very much at all. He was a friendly enough guy, but he seemed to like observing and listening more than he liked talking. He and Abigail seemed to always be around one another when Dash saw them, their significant height difference almost comical. Finally, Dash’s eyes rested on the figure closest to her with their back turned. Their brown cap was pulled down low on their face as they knelt on the ground, but she could recognize those bright red suspenders anywhere. He was at an angle where she could just see that was holding a red shooter in his hand, weaving it through his fingertips thoughtfully.

Dash’s feelings toward Spot were… mixed; she could never stop herself from riling him up, and the two would often butt heads due to their wildly different personalities. Spot took himself so seriously, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why. It frustrated her that he tried to make himself seem so high and mighty, and she knew the kids in Brooklyn respected him, but as far as she could tell, he was just… some guy. The way he constantly tried to have the attention of those around him was so silly, and just made him come off as a bit of a show off.

She hadn’t seen him do anything particularly intimidating, but the Newsies back in Manhattan would often go on and on about how nervous he made them. She just failed to see any real reason for their apprehension. Then again, she really hadn’t been living in New York all that long; his reputation had been around for a good while. Maybe they all knew something she didn’t.

In any case, as far as she was concerned, he was just a kid who wanted attention. That was fine, of course, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to tease him. It was fun to challenge him, and she found herself getting extremely competitive in his presence. Of course he wasn’t going to back down from a challenge.

Dash would come to Brooklyn every once in a while to exchange books with Twitchy, who she knew was pretty close with Spot. He never seemed to show any signs of being intimidated either, and was an even bigger culprit than she was when it came to pushing Spot’s buttons. He would go to great lengths to make him look silly, like the time he filled Spot’s pockets with bread crumbs and got the neighborhood pigeons to follow him around all day. There was also a time when he dressed up in the same clothes as Spot, and had bribed the other Brooklyn kids with candy to pretend that he was the real Spot for an entire day.

Dash watched as the boy she hadn’t recognized leaned forward, closing one eye and taking a deep breath. He flicked his thumb, his yellow shooter zipping forward and smacking into another large, purple marble. Both marbles rolled over the string, coming to a rest on the other side. The boy whooped with delight, and Abigail let out a cry of astonishment.

“That was a cheap shot, Sonny!” Abigail crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring daggers at the boy. “You know I just got that marble yesterday!”

“It ain’t my fault I got good aim!” Sonny grinned, shrugging and walking over to claim the purple shooter for himself. “Sorry, toots.”

Dash thought Sonny didn’t look all that sorry.

Abigail huffed, sitting back and crossing her legs.

“Fine, whatever. Your turn, Spot.”

Spot, who had been silent the entire time, was already leaning down to shoot his own red marble. He extended his arm, appearing as still as a statue as he aimed the little glass ball toward the center.

At that moment, an idea popped into Dash’s brain. Slowly, without making a sound, she crept up behind him, biting her lip to keep herself from giggling and giving herself away. Finally, just as Spot started to release the shooter, Dash exclaimed “HI, SPOT!”

The boy let out a rather undignified yelp and his hand jerked, the marble rolling into the ring and bouncing gently on one of the mibs. It hardly budged, and Spot’s shooter halted beside it. The other three Brooklyn newsies broke out into laughter, and Spot’s shoulders tensed, turning his head slowly to glare up at Dash.

Dash just smiled, waving down at him.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said hi.”

Spot grunted and rose to his feet, his hazel eyes narrowing at Dash. Despite his intense stare, her expression remained unchanged.

“I heard ya, I heard ya.” He grumbled, glancing her up and down. “You messed me up, y’know.”

“Golly, did I do that?” she feigned surprise, her eyebrows raising. “Whoopsie daisies. Can I play?”

“We’re in the middle of a game.”

“Actually, it’s just endin’!” Sonny chimed in from behind him with a smile. Spot glanced back and shot Sonny a look, who quickly clammed up.

“Aw, that’s okay.” Dash shrugged, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “It’s no big deal, Spot’s just afraid that I’ll beat him at his own game.” she looked back to Spot, and she swore she saw his eye twitch.

“No. I am not.” He replied firmly.

“Are too.”

“Am. Not.”

“Are tooooo.”

“NO, I am-” Spot’s voice had grown higher pitched in the heat of the moment, but he quickly paused, giving a sideways glance at his Newsies who were all staring at them. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, his voice now sounding much lower than it had a moment ago.

“Fine.” He said cooly.  “Fine, you wanna play? We’ll play. Clear the ring, Sonny.”

In a matter of moments, the ring was reset, thirteen mibs resting in the center in a cross. Dash fished her sack of marbles out from her bag, a little blue pouch that her father had fashioned for her out of some spare fabric. She had about a dozen shooters she had collected over the years, but there was a very special one she wanted to use for this occasion.

She rummaged around in the pouch for a moment before pulling up a shooter that was minty green and blue with little white swirls. Sonny whistled, leaning in to look at it.

“That’s real pretty.” He mused. Dash beamed, tossing it up in the air once and catching it.

“Thanks! It’s the first marble I ever won back when I was younger.”

Abigail raised an eyebrow. “You sure ya wanna use that thing, then? Seems pretty special to be usin’ in a game. Don’t wanna end up like me and have it taken from ya.” She glared pointedly at Sonny, who only grinned back at her innocently with large, doe like eyes.

Dash nodded. “Oh, yeah! This guy is my go-to shooter, he’s real lucky!” She held it up proudly, admiring the way the colorful swirls glistened in the light. “I’ve never lost a match with him!”

Spot was also staring at the marble, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Huh. Oh, well, it’s your funeral, girlie.” He stretched his arms over his head, shifting his gaze back to her. “You better say your goodbyes now, ‘cause that thing’s gonna be in my pocket real soon.”

Dash stuck out her tongue at him. She wasn’t nervous; her lucky shooter had never failed her before, and this game would be no different.

The two knelt on opposite ends of the circle, and the others sat off to the side as spectators. Spot motioned his hand toward her.

“Ladies first.”

Dash positioned herself in front of the ring with her shooter. Without any delay, she flung her marble forward, grinning at the satisfying clack it made as it smacked into one of the mibs, sending two of them rolling out of the ring. Dash whooped loudly, and Spot continued to watched in silence with a serious expression.

“Nice!” Abigail grinned.

Her shooter was still within the circle, which meant she was able to shoot her marble again from the inside the ring. She hummed, hopping to the other side and returning to her knees to the left of Spot. As she reached for her shooter, her shoulder briefly brushed against his. Spot jumped as if he had been shocked, scowling and moving a few inches to his right. Dash barely even noticed him, focused on finding the right angle to shoot her marble. She flicked it once more and the marble struck another mib, but it didn’t have as much force as the first hit. It rolled a few inches and stopped just before reaching the edge. Dash shrugged, flopping backward onto her behind. “Oh well. Your turn.”

Spot nodded, adjusting his cap. Dash saw him glance over at the other kids for a fleeting second, then returned his gaze to the marbles. He cracked his knuckles loudly, which Dash found rather unnecessary, and flexed his hands at his sides. He scooped up his red shooter, assuming the position. His eyebrows knit together and he bit his lip.

This was ridiculous; the longer she waited for him to make his move, the more restless she felt. She drummed her hands on her lap as she waited. After what felt like centuries, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can’t you go any faster?” She huffed.

“I’m focusin’.”

“Focus faster!” she urged.

Spot’s jaw clenched, still not looking at Dash. He exhaled, finally releasing his marble. It hit two mibs at once, sending them flying out of the circle in opposite directions. Sonny cheered loudly and Abigail nodded with approval while Chatter clapped politely beside her. The marble stopped right where it hit its mark, meaning it was still in play.

Spot grinned, clearly pleased with himself as he turned his attention back to Dash. She clapped, nodding slowly.

“That was great, yeah! Hey, at this rate, maybe we’ll have a winner by Thanksgiving!” she teased. Abigail let out a cough that Dash could have sworn was a laugh.

Spot’s grin snapped back to a scowl, squinting hard at her. Dash smiled back. Sometimes it was just too easy.

Spot closed his eyes briefly, regaining his composure. When he opened his eyes again, the look in his eyes had changed.

“Oh, I ain’t movin’ fast enough for ya?” he asked, stretching out his arms and making a big show of moving into shooting position once more. Slowly, he leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. “That’s no problem. I can go faster.”

He set his eyes on Dash’s lucky shooter, and before she could even process what was happening, he shot his red marble straight for it.

Dash’s eyes widened in horror, and she gasped as the shooter crashed into her minty blue sphere, causing it to roll right out of the ring.

Her heart sank, realizing what he had just done. She looked up at him in dismay and was met with a smug smile.

“Oh, would ya look at that? Seems like ya lucky marble ain’t so lucky no more.” He snickered. “Oopsie daisies.”

The other Brooklyn kids appeared stunned at what their leader had done, exchanging nervous glances with one another. Sure, he had joked about taking the marble, but it didn’t seem like they thought he would actually take it.

“Spot…” Abigail started, but Spot ignored her, plucking the shooter from the ground and rolling it across his palm as he stood.

“You were right, Abby. She shoulda listened to your advice, don’t’cha think?”

For a minute, Dash was speechless. Did that really just happen? Was he being serious right now?

Her shock quickly turned to rage. She rose and stormed up to him, lunging toward the marble.

“No! That’s not fair, you can’t-”

“What exactly ain’t fair here?” Spot interrupted, snatching it away and holding her prized shooter high in the air. “I ain’t no cheater, ask anyone here! I won this here marble fair and square!” He looked over at the others for confirmation, daring any of them to argue. “You all saw it, right? No rules broken, yeah?”

Reluctantly, the three nodded in agreement, which only fueled Dash’s anger. She grunted and jumped toward his raised hand in an attempt to grab it, but he stepped back, barking out a laugh.

“Better luck next time, short stuff!”

Dash grunted, jumping up and down as she tried snatch her marble. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you! You’re barely three inches taller than me at most!”

“Still, it’s three inches you ain’t got!” he snickered. “I’m playin’ the game the way it’s s’posed to be played! When ya shoot your opponent’s marble outta the ring, you claim it! That’s the rule!”

They danced around one another, Dash hopping up toward his hand and Spot pulling away at the very last second. Dash could feel her cheeks burning. She grit her teeth and let out a loud groan. “Why are you being such a jerk?!” She exclaimed, taking another swing just as he jumped out of the way.  “You only shot at my marble to be mean!”

“I’m the jerk?” He scoffed, side stepping when she tried to snatch it again. “You’ve been pickin’ on me this whole time! ”

“Was not!”

“Were too!”

“WAS NOT!”

“WERE TOO!”

“Hey, now,” Chatter spoke up for the first time, stepping forward. His voice was deep and soft. “Maybe we should all calm down…”

But Dash didn’t want to calm down. She was fuming, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Logically, she knew she shouldn’t be getting so worked up over a silly, little marble, but she couldn’t control it; she was livid! How dare he take something from her that he knew was special to her! How dare he hold it over her head and taunt her with it! The way he smirked down at her made her stomach bubble with anger. She wasn’t going to let him get away with this.

She lunged once more, but this time, she wasn’t aiming at his hand.

She reached for his head, plucking off the brown cap from his head in one quick swipe and scurrying backward with a triumphant “HA!”

Spot blinked in surprise, his free hand instinctively moving toward his head. His caramel hair was now in disarray, falling in wisps across his face.

“Ha ha. Very funny, girlie, give it back.”

“No.”

“Seriously? Dash, c’mon.”

Dash was already scooping up her bag of belongings and throwing it over her shoulder, a wild grin on her face. It was juvenile, sure, but it was the only thing she could think to do in the heat of the moment. She offered him a quick salute, then bolted from the scene of the crime, leaving a flabbergasted Spot behind her.

She was already halfway down the block before she heard an enraged bellow behind her:

“DAAAAASH!”

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

End of Part 1

[pinky-the-elephant-room]

Moon

AN: Hello this is a preview of a multi chapter fic I’ve been working, I’ve posted the rest on AO3. Please check it out and give it some love. 

Summary: All Might has returned from America and has made his triumphant debut in Japan. Protecting and saving everyone with a smile just like his deceased master taught him, until one night he encounters an omega vigilante that makes him question everything even his alpha instincts

."You know what your doing is illegal right?" He asked seriously.

"Honey, the only illegal thing here is you in that spandex." She purred in response.

Heres the link. 

Warning: The Fic contains Explicit smut and violence with ABO elements read at your own discretion. 

-----------Young All Might x Fem OC------------

Yuna watched from afar as the villain dragged the young girl by her arm. Her shrill yells and cries for help echoed in the alley of the 7-Eleven. The clothing the girl wore and the fact she was still strolling in the middle of the night, no doubt she was of the many host girls in the Kabukicho district of Tokyo. Yuna had watched from the moment the girl stepped out of the bar to go home. Unfortunately, she was tailed by a man with a vulture quirk - he was probably a disgruntled customer who overstepped his boundaries. Host girls were only allowed to pour drinks and were paid for their company.

The man wanted more and discreetly followed her before approaching for sex. Yuna watched as he pulled out the money and tried to persuade her. Prostitution was illegal and to be honest as a vigilante, she didn’t care for the law. What she did care for was the fact he was now dragging her despite explicitly saying no.

Yuna readied her stance on top of the building from where she watched. The man readied himself to swing his heavy and bony wing at the poor girl as she continued to struggle. Yuna activated her quirk and a purple hazy portal opened behind the villain. The girl stopped and watched as the mysterious gateway opened revealing a large, eerie violet hand covered in scripts appeared behind the villain, slamming him down. The force of the impact blew the girl a few feet away and she tried to right herself. She watched the hand lifted itself and withdrew back into the portal. She glanced at the man who harassed her, she saw his body squished on the cracked cement floor and an outpour of blood pooling around him. She gagged and held a hand to her face.

Yuna leisurely used the building’s fire escape while her quirk did the work. Her spandex squeaked as she carefully maneuvered in her heels down the building. Yuna approached the girl and pulled her away from the unconscious bleeding villain.

“You alright?” She asked. “You could have been hurt. Next time you leave the workplace make sure no one’s following you ok?”

The girl, now stabilized, nodded shakingly. “Are you a hero miss? Thank you so much for saving me. Your quirk is amazing.”

Yuna smirked and winked cheekily. “I guess you can call me a hero. A hero for the people.” She looked over the girl making sure she wasn’t physically injured and told her to call the police when she was far away from the scene.

“But what about you? Are you going to be here with him?” The girl asked pointing in disgust at the unconscious man.

“You saw my quirk, right? I can handle whatever the moron might dish out if he can wake up with that concussion he probably has.” Yuna replied confidently as she flipped her hair out of her face.

The girl seemed to be convinced by Yuna’s sheer confidence and gathered her purse and jacket that was thrown in the tussle.

Yuna kept a firm eye on her as the girl quickly walked out of the alley and onto the busy streets of Tokyo. She quickly scaled her way back up the fire escape and onto the building surrounding the back of the 7-Eleven.

She wanted to be here when a hero would no doubt come to investigate along with a few police officers. She wanted to flaunt her quirk and rub it in their faces that a vigilante did their job. Most of all, she wanted to flirt with the dangers of almost getting caught before whisking herself away. Yuna privately hoped that the hero would be that prodigy rookie Endeavor - the look on his face as she stole his villain and laid him out before he did was priceless. It’s the reason she laid peacefully at night in her bed nowadays.  She snickered in her hands at the memory.

Yuna waited approximately about 15 or 20 minutes, listening to music on the wireless headphones she brought along with her phone stashed in the pockets of her spandex hero suit. The first thing she put in when she designed it was of course pockets.

Being a Korean by birth, listening to the ballads of her culture always soothed her, she might need to calm her nerves to face off whichever hero might come to investigate.

Luckily for her, this one made quite the entrance by leaping over the 7-Eleven and landing quite spectacularly next to the villain.

And what a spectacle he was. The hero was donned in a white and blue suit with red stripes and a long cape. It wasn’t the design that made the hero so awe-inspiring but rather his height and the way his muscles seemed to ripple in his suit. Even the two weirdo bangs that stood up like wings seemed intimidating rather than being absurd on him.

She licked her lips out of nervousness and quickly stashed her headphones and phone away. This was not what she was expecting. He was going to be an issue. She knew all the heroes who patrolled in the Kabukicho district. Most of all she knew their habits and quirks. Yuna had made it imperative to know who to avoid and who to fight. But this guy made her wish she never came out tonight.

Yuna squared her shoulders and waited as the hero kneeled and checked on the criminal. He took out what looked like a cell phone and put it to his ear and talked for a few minutes. As he was doing that, she noticed what looked like police lights over the 7-Eleven building and soon enough police officers were crowded in the alley.

The police officers signaled to the EMTs and they took over, loading the villain onto their ambulance. Meanwhile, the hero stood around, looking at nothing particular before having a short conversation with a police officer.

Yuna sighed. Perhaps this is for the best, she didn’t need to have amusement every time she caught a criminal. Until she got more information as to who this new guy was and his quirk, she wasn’t going to touch him with a ten-foot pole. She stepped away from the top of the building and slowly made her way across to the other side. Leisurely picked up her pace before running and then vaulting over to the next building.  She continued to jump building to building until she was a good distance away from the 7-Eleven.

What she didn’t notice was the hero that had noticed her take off from the scene. As Yuna stopped for a breather, a strong burst of wind was the only clue before a slam of the hero’s landing made her cover her face.

She opened her eyes and felt her breath hitch. He was even more impressive up close.  She barely reached his shoulders with her height of 5’8 and if she wasn’t mistaken his entire hand could cover her face. She hoped that she wouldn’t have to resort to fistfights with him. She was not about to get a shiner from his mammoth hands.

“So, you’re the vigilante that’s been patrolling this area.” He started.

God, even his voice felt like melted butter. Though he was speaking softly, his entire ensemble felt like he was being lowkey for her benefit. His whole style felt like he was the type to be flashy and totally in someone’s face.

Yuna let a flirty smile come onto her face and confidently walked to the hero as if she wasn’t just contemplating not getting punched by him.

“I am. It’s nice to know that I’m being recognized even by others I don’t know so what’s your name handsome?” She asked as she toyed with the strands of her hair.

The hero straightened as if he was about to deliver something with great importance.

“I’m All Might and I hope you realize that vigilantism despite your good intentions is wrong and illegal and that’s why-“

So, this was All Might. Yuna had heard of another talented rookie quickly rising through the hero ranks. She initially had cackled knowing that somewhere Endeavor loathed to know someone else was being called a prodigy besides him. Even Yuna could deduce how much of an ego he had from the few “encounters” they had. Since then Yuna hadn’t given All Might much thought. To the point she didn’t know what he looked like. Perhaps she was wrong in doing so.

She smirked and interrupted his sentence, “Honey, the only illegal thing here is you in that spandex.”

Yuna watched as the hero opened and closed his mouth several times as if in disbelief that someone about to be arrested was flirting with him. She watched in fascination as his ears and neck turned a violent red. Even his cheeks were a light rosy color.

She couldn’t help but notice how cute he looked flustered by a compliment. Yuna felt her confidence grow further and her nervousness resides, she knew exactly how to handle him, and it wasn’t with fists.

(Read the rest on AO3) Link Here

[som3thingcr3ative]

And I am Wanting

So, here it is...a slow burn, angsty, poly-amorous Geraskier fic. This beast is gonna be multiple parts, feature our boys Geralt the sass master and Jaskier the smol bean as well as an OC. 

It’s got canon-typical violence, respect women juice (tm) and everything else that goes with the beauty of the Witcher. 

Our story begins two months before Geralt meets Yennefer in a small town south of Rinde.

part one part two part three part four

Summary: Geralt seeks a bounty and finds something unusual waiting for him in the monster’s lair: Jaskier composes a song in honor of an unsung hero. 

Warnings: If you’ve watched the Witcher, you’re prepared. This gets a little more into Geralt’s feelings, but that’s about it. 

pairings: so far, mild Jaskier x OC, eventual Geraskier x OC. 

also, this is loooong. You’ve been warned. 

Word of a beast with a price on its head had come from a local town: the Lord of the town promised a room for any who dared attempt to slay the beast, food for three nights and a great ransom upon return of the creature’s severed head. Geralt was intrigued. The disgruntled highwayman who’d told him spoke also of the town’s vigilante, a man who ‘cleaned up the streets’. It’s a town without rapists or child-molesters, the man had said. The only murderer is the vigilante, and people are calling his work just. They honor him. Whores have professed their undying gratitude.

Geralt sips his ale and wonders what the vigilante would think of him. Across the tavern, Jaskier has started his third run-through of ‘fishmonger’s daughter’. The Witcher feels his eyes twitch. He downs the ale and motions for another from the hesitant bartender; it’s his sixth- or so, he’s not really counting. When the barkeep fills his mug once more, he slams it back and lets his stools’ legs scrape loudly against the slatted floor as he stands, making his exit. He spares only the briefest glances for Jaskier, who is surrounded by drunkards singing along with him. The bard’s cheeks are rosy from drink, his eyes sparkling in the low light with the attention of so many on him.

The Witcher waits outside the tavern, leaning against the hitching post Roach is tied to. He strokes a hand over her ear and murmurs lowly to her as he looks around; the town is quite large by rural standards, boasting three taverns and two brothels, a church with a monopoly on the religious sheep of the place, and a rather palatial estate overlooking the main street. This estate is where he needs to go- he takes the whole thing in, from the neatly trimmed rose bushes out front to the large barn to its left. There is a circular cobblestone path for horses and coaches, tall columns guarding the entrance.

Jaskier stumbles out of the tavern, a little tipsy and with a wide grin on his face. Geralt grunts, sending the bard a short glare before he turns his back, throwing the reins over Roach’s head and mounting up. Together, Jaskier telling Geralt in great detail how amazing having everyone singing his songs was, they make a steady pace for the estate.

~ 

The first thing Geralt notices as a servant leads him into the dining room is the beautiful woman sitting to the right of who he assumes is the Lord of the town. She’s stunning, her features refined as he’d come to expect of nobility, her long hair let loose in ringlets that spill over her shoulders in waves of auburn. Her posture is perfect, hands clasped in her lap over a flowing dress. Every inch of her screams wealth.

Geralt doesn’t have to force himself to look away. While she looks like she can afford the price on the beasts’ head, she doesn’t look like the type to get her hands dirty- in fact, even at dinner her hands and forearms are covered by black silk gloves. She’s far too prissy for his taste.

“Geralt of Rivia!” The Lord of the town booms, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin as he stands up. He spreads his long arms wide. “I’d heard you were in town. Have you come for the monster? Who am I kidding, of course you have! Welcome, welcome!”

The Witcher steps into the dining room, Jaskier just behind and to his left. He knows he’s out of place with his dual swords, his black leather armor, but he couldn’t give less of a damn. Money is money, and this man has plenty.

“Please, sit!” The Lord continues. “I’d like you to meet my daughter, Lani.” He motions to the auburn-haired woman beside him. She inclines her head with a small smile, properly polite. Geralt nearly scoffs. Instead, he takes a seat at the foot of the table, Jaskier placing himself beside the woman. He kisses the back of her hand, turning on the charm. Geralt watches them for a second, seeing her polite dismissal of the bard. Jaskier doesn’t seem deterred- he keeps talking to her despite her lack of interest.

“I head you have a pest.” Geralt says, ignoring the way the woman’s green eyes lock on him.

“Yes, a werewolf. There’s a mage who has gone rogue around here, and the werewolf seems to be her pet. It’s a creature born, if the pattern of attacks mean anything, and it’s killing our businesses. My businesses, really, since everything in this town is mine.” He laughs, self-confident to the point of cockiness. “I’ll pay you handsomely if you slay it.”

“When.” Geralt corrects, but the man doesn’t seem to notice.

“I can’t have it threatening my daughter, you see. No suitor will want her if the land she is to inherit is plagued with a monster.”

The daughter’s eyes narrow, but she quickly composes her face into an emotionless mask. Geralt notices the slip, though. It seems she’s not content to be married off.

“We have rooms prepared for you, Witcher. Your…friend can stay in the adjoining room. Please, help yourself to whatever food and drink you fancy while here. I can’t offer an advance payment, you see, or too many fakes would come through those doors, but I promise payment in full as soon as the task is complete and the wolf’s head- human or otherwise- crosses my threshold. And only the head, mind you.” He clears his throat. “Apologies, Lani sweet, for such coarse language.”

Lani tips her head to him, but her eyes are still focused on Geralt. He shifts an inch, starting to feel uncomfortable. Her stare isn’t obvious, but it is disconcerting, and with her careful mask, he can’t tell what she’s thinking or why she’s staring.

“Where?” Geralt questions.

“It’s sheltered in the mountain just south of here, at the base. There’s a cave system there, it’s hard to miss. Just follow the creek upstream.”

Geralt nods and stands, turning to leave the room without another word.

 ~

“Did you see how beautiful Lani is?” Jaskier babbles as he follows Roach up a sloping hill. “She looks like a princess, or a queen. Oh, I could write a song about her beauty! Should I? Do you think that would woo her to me?”

Geralt huffs, rolling his eyes. Roach is sure-footed on the rocks, but he can hear Jaskier slipping every so often behind him. Nevertheless, the bard keeps up his steady stream of talking. They’re an hour into the woods, following the creek as Lord Corro (He’d gleaned the name from a passing servant in the hall) had said. There are fresh hoofprints in the bits of sandy ground between rocks, and only in one direction. Whoever had gone hadn’t come back.

The Witcher holds up a hand. Jaskier stops with a huff. “Are we there yet?”

Geralt glares at him, but his attention is diverted; just over the crest of the hill he can see the very top of a cave mouth. Inside, echoing just loud enough for his highly tuned senses to pick up is the sound of a fight. He hears a shout, a roar, a scream- and then a thud as something- or someone- is thrown.

He nudges Roach into a canter over the path, finding that the ground levels out and becomes less rocky the closer they get to the cave. Outside the mouth of the cave, a large black horse grazes amongst bones strewn haphazardly on the ground. It lifts its head and whickers, puffing itself up to full height as it watches Roach canter in. Inside, the sounds of the fight have resumed. Geralt catches the scent of blood, of sweat and something else- wood smoke? He turns his mare and jumps off, rushing into the cave.

The inside of the cave is littered with full skeletons, half-eaten corpses and fresh blood. There are several human bodies among the dead, but sheep and goats far out number the people. He even spots a few cows, their skulls resting in odd positions. Closer now, he can hear each grunt the human fighter makes, each glance of their weapon over the werewolf’s hide. The monster screams, then roars. For a second there’s nothing.

Geralt skids to a stop at the entrance to the main lair. The werewolf lays dead, skewered through the neck by a silver-plated sword. Standing over the corpse with a leg over either shoulder is a black-clad figure whose face is obscured by a mask and a hood- but Geralt can see that the blood dripping from their hands to the sword’s hilt isn’t werewolf blood. It’s their own.

The figure collapses, falling just to the side of the werewolf’s massive body, curled in on itself. Is it the vigilante? Geralt thinks, blinking at the well-made sword, the man’s black doublet and thick leather pants. He sure did come prepared.

As he stalks toward the too-brave human, he takes stock of the fight scene. It had been brutal, this much he can tell; there is human blood smeared across the ceiling and directly below, too fresh to belong to anyone other than the vigilante.

“You shouldn’t have taken on a monster by yourself.” Geralt admonishes the panting, nearly-broken figure on the floor. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, instead pushing himself up with both hands firmly planted on the ground. As soon as he gets his feet under him, he’s scrambling backwards, away from Geralt.

The Witcher holds his hands up, seeing the vigilante reach for a dagger belted to his waist. “No need.” He says. “I only hunt monsters, not humans.” Still, no response other than ragged breathing. The man presses a hand to his ribs, hunched over. Clearly injured. “You need help.” Geralt comments. “I can help you.”

He’s aware of Jaskier finally catching up; the bard stands in awe of the scene before him, jaw dropped. Then he sees the vigilante, and notices that both of Geralt’s swords are still strapped to his back- though there is a sword stuck in the werewolf.

“Geralt?” Jaskier questions, confused. “Did he kill the monster?”

The vigilante drops like dead weight. Geralt rushes over, taking the dagger from a limp hand. His fingers come away slick with blood. Up close, the man is smaller than most men he’d seen. He pushes back the hood, noting that the man wears a tight black knit cap that lines up perfectly with the mask. Blood seeps from below the mask, so Geralt takes it off carefully.

“Oh.” He murmurs, shocked. The man, the vigilante, slayer of the werewolf, isn’t a man at all.

Lying unconscious on the ground before him, her body battered, is Lani, Lord Corro’s daughter. Blood drips from the corner of her mouth, but her face is unmarred. Up close, Geralt notices a small scar over her right eyebrow, a tiny imperfection on her otherwise unmarked face. She groans, face scrunching, then gags, rolling over to spit up blood. For a second she seems to gather herself, then her eyes land on his.

She reaches up, feeling for the mask, but when her fingers touch only skin her eyes widen. “Don’t tell my father-“ She says, voice hoarse with the blood coating her throat. Geralt pats her back as she falls into a coughing fit, spitting up more blood. When she flops onto her back, she gives him a side-eye. “Don’t tell anyone.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re injured.”

Her hand lifts to her ribs and she winces. “I’ll be fine. Just…don’t tell.”

Geralt looks to Jaskier over his shoulder. The bard has a comical look of surprise on his face, so shocked that he can do nothing but blink. Huffing, he nods. “I won’t.” 

Lani closes her eyes, nose scrunching in pain. She pants through bared teeth as she tries to lift herself onto an elbow, but Geralt is quick to push her back down. “Stay.” he says. 

“M’lady?” A girl’s voice calls out from behind them. “Oh! Lani!” Geralt turns to see a woman the same size as Lani rushing towards her. She wears the outfit of a handmaiden in Lord Corro’s house, her mouse-brown hair done up in a braid. Without even bothering to glance at the witcher, she kneels beside Lani and cups her face in one hand. “This is going to leave a mark.” She says. 

“You knew about this?” Jaskier’s incredulous voice questions from just over Geralt’s shoulder. His face is bewildered, and Geralt thinks- not for the first time- that the bard lets too much of what he’s feeling show on his face. “You knew that she’s the vigilante?”

The handmaiden cuts Jaskier a look so cold that Geralt’s eyebrows raise. “Of course I did.” She growls, already feeling down Lani’s side for broken bones. “I knew I couldn’t stop her, so I decided to join her. I’m the only one who knows.”

“Not anymore.” Lani coughs, wiping at her mouth. She glances only briefly to the blood on her hand before she warily eyes Jaskier. “Don’t. Tell.”

“Her father would disown her.” The maid explains. “Some of the men she’s, ehem, stopped are men who work for Lord Corro. He’d kill me if he found out I helped her.” She cuts herself off, looking to Lani. They share a glance that clearly means something to the other. 

“You can say it.” Lani says, gritting her teeth past a fresh wave of pain. 

“Lani’s been playing a long game. Lord Corro is the most corrupt person in town, and she’s been taking out his pawns one by one until she can bring him down, but it’s dangerous. If she were to be found out…”

Geralt’s mind reels. This is not the woman who he’d seen sit so demurely at her father’s side. This woman is cunning. She’s an incredible actress, and far more than he’d given her credit for. “He’s your father.” The Witcher comments. “Not many people would dare take on their own family.”

She bares her teeth, her smile bloodied. “He doesn’t deserve what he has. No one should be that rich while others suffer.”

Behind him, Geralt swears he hears Jaskier whimper. The scent that always clings to the bard intensifies. He looks over his shoulder to find Jaskier making heart-eyes at the woman lying bleeding on the floor, broken but victorious. 

“We have to get you back.” The maid murmurs to Lani. “Can you move?”

“She shouldn’t walk on her own.” Geralt says, wondering at the sudden protective urge he has over the woman. “I’ll carry her.”

Lani scoffs, but he knows her pride won’t get her upright. She sets her jaw, eyeing him distrustfully, but when he only holds out a hand for her she seems to deflate. He waits until she nods before he scoops her up with an arm behind her back and one under her legs. She groans in pain, eyes squeezed shut, body trembling. “You’re not like the others, Witcher.” Lani grudgingly admits from behind clenched teeth. “Most men wouldn’t wait for permission.”

Geralt hums low in his chest, knowing she can hear it. He doesn’t bother to answer as he turns around, noting that Jaskier is still reeling from the surprises of the day. “Are you coming, bard?” He burrs, amused. Jaskier nods, glancing back to see the maid following them.

The Witcher places Lani as gently as he can on the black horses’ back, frowning when she still grimaces in pain despite his best efforts. She’s a tough woman, but those are serious injuries, he thinks to himself. “You take the bounty.” She says to him, not meeting his eyes. “As payment for keeping my secret.”

He nearly shakes his head. She’d almost been killed in the fight, the bounty was hers by rights- but the part of himself that remained from his lessons says that coin is coin, no matter how it is gotten. “You killed it.” He says instead. “It’s your bounty.”

“She won’t take it.” the maid replies when Lani clutches her ribs, her face scrunching up in pain. “She’s stubborn like that. Either you take the money or no one will.”

“He’ll take it.” Jaskier jumps in. “Or I will.” When Geralt gives him a short glare, he shrugs. “Living on the road is expensive. We need to pay for food somehow.” Geralt’s lips twitch in annoyance but he realizes the bard is right. It’s a waste of Lani’s blood if no one takes the bounty. 

“Where will you go?” He asks instead. 

“Home.” Lani breathes, pushing herself upright in the saddle. She takes a few shallow breaths past her bruised ribs. “I’ve gotten good at hiding my injuries.” Geralt sees the sadness in her maid’s expression and knows it’s all too true. “Ready, Loretta?” 

The maid nods, swinging up unassisted into the saddle behind her Lady. Lani turns the horse toward the town, giving Geralt a lingering look. “I’ll see you there, Witcher.” She says, gritting her teeth as she urges the horse into a rolling canter. 

Geralt huffs, muttering a low ‘fuck’ under his breath. He turns toward the cave where the werewolf’s dead body waits. Jaskier, behind him, is staring after the two riders with longing in his eyes. 

“I want to marry that woman.” Jaskier murmurs, his cheeks pink. “She’s so… perfect.”

The Witcher grunts. “She’s her own woman, Jask. Can’t be tied down.” He stomps into the cave, finding the monster exactly the way it had been left. The blood on his leather is Lani’s, but no one in town would know that, so he decides to leave it as a sign of the battle. With a savage yank, he pulls the sword from the werewolf’s spine and uses it to sever the head in two blows. When the head rolls alone on the stone floor of the cave, Geralt takes a closer look at the sword, humming in appreciation of the wonderful craftsmanship. If Lani left it, then she left it for a reason, so he decides to keep it though it is smaller than he likes. 

The sun is nearing its crest when Geralt walks out of the cave with a new sword in one hand and a werewolf’s head in the other. Jaskier waits, already strumming his lute to a new tune; one of the witcher, victorious in battle against yet another monster. 

Lani sits stiff as a board in her seat beside her father. Her ribs throb with every shallow breath, her entire right side is an amalgamation of black and blue bruises, but the sleeves of her dress and her black silk gloves cover everything. Behind her, Loretta frets. She can feel the handmaiden’s eyes boring into the back of her skull, watching and waiting for a sign that she’s had enough. 

She’s about to give up when the double doors to the dining room crash open and in strides Geralt, bloodied and carrying the head of the monster she herself slew. 

A good excuse, she thinks, feeling rather pale. She puts the back of one hand daintily to her forehead, sighing just enough that her father hears. “Oh my,” she murmurs. “Father, I feel quite faint. You must excuse me.”

And with that, she rises on unsteady feet, using the back of the chair as balance to leave. As soon as she’s out of eyesight of anyone, Loretta slips an arm around her waist and takes half of her weight, guiding them both to her room. 

Lani doesn’t see Geralt unceremoniously dump the head to the floor, or her father hand over a large bag of gold coins. She lays in bed, aching all over and so tired as Jaskier serenades the Lord with a song of Geralt’s triumph over the beast. She hears the revel thrown in Geralt’s honor, the revel that goes on for hours until there’s a shallow knock on her door. 

“My Lady Lani?” Jaskier’s voice calls, muffled through the door. 

Lani motions Loretta to open the door, too weak to do much more. Jaskier is quickly by her side, gingerly taking her hand in both of his. “How are you feeling?” The bard asks, and Lani can see genuine worry in his eyes. 

“Everything hurts.” she confesses, in too much pain to put on an act. “Did Geralt collect the bounty?”

“He did. I made a song about his victory over the beast, but I wanted you to hear the real one, the one I’ll only sing to him or you. Would you like that?”

She doesn’t know why there are tears suddenly at the back of her eyes, or why seeing his soft gaze breaks down the walls she’s built for so long. “Loretta,” She calls, and instantly her handmaiden is there, helping her sit up. Jaskier helps too, his hands warm on her shoulder and careful not to hurt her any more than she already is. The bard fluffs her pillows behind her without being asked. “Thank you, Jaskier. I’d love to hear your song.”

And so, with Loretta sitting comfortably on her bed beside her, she watches as Jaskier kneels and swings his lute over his chest, strumming a few careful notes. 

“This tale begins with a proper Lady whose beauty knows no bounds, whose courage is unmatched, whose honor is worth more than gold. 

Defender of her land, protector of her realm, she is unknown to all but one.

She fought minor beasts, men whose deeds made them wicked, defeated their demons and emerged victorious. 

So when true evil came to her land

When a monster stalked her people, 

She did as heroes do and she hunted the creature.

When no man would stand up and fight, when cowardice was proven, she asked no recompense, no quarter, for there could be no mercy either.

When no man would fight, she said ‘I am no man’ and she proved her worth.

She fought the creature with every breath, she slew the beast with the last of her strength

And though battered by the monster, she didn’t cry for help. This valiant, beautiful woman had proven herself worth more than fifty men and yet she asked to remain hidden.

And so it is that no one will know her name, the glory of battle goes to another, the spoils of victory hers to give but not taken. 

But let not her tale end here. 

Let it not end here, but let there be many more victories in her future.’

Loretta is crying when Lani glances over at her. Jaskier’s eyes are soft, but there’s something glimmering in them from his song, and Lani feels the effects of it long after the last note fades away, like some sort of spell. “That was beautiful.” She whispers to the bard. “Thank you.”

Jaskier smiles, a smile that lights up his whole face. Geralt never compliments his singing, and more often than not he’s boo-ed out of taverns. “No, thank you, M’lady. Today you proved that it doesn’t take a Witcher for all monsters. There may be hope for us yet.”

Lani laughs, but it quickly dissolves into a coughing fit. Jaskier is quick to help, rubbing her back soothingly as she coughs. She leans into him for a minute, weakened by the fit, and his heart threatens to burst. He’d always been one to trust too quickly, but even he knew that from the moment he first saw her that she was unlike the others. He sets her back against her pillows gently, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. Her eyes are as green as he remembers them being from first glance, though they are pain-dulled and tired. “Get some rest.” he says, kissing the back of her hand once more. He can feel her callouses from weaponry and realizes why she always wears gloves. “You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Jaskier.” She says as he stands, moving his lute onto his back. “And please tell Geralt thank you too.”

“I will.” He replies. “But you are the one we should both be thanking.”

TAG LIST (OPEN)

[hildorien]

I am in the minority but I’d love to know more about the pre-noldor elvish edain culture, history, and just life. 

I wanna know more about men in the context of men, I wanna see history through human eyes without the elvish perspective. 

I wanna know the full experiences of all humans in middle earth not the ones the elves interacted with. And if you have to have elves, I wanna hear about what humans thought of elves that isnt ‘oh they are so perfect and amazing and beautiful uwu’, because that’s kind of boring and we can all agree first age elves? on the whole? pretty shitty. (I love em but they have one brain cell to share among them and fuck up on the regular). 

I wanna see Humans who were born into a dumpster fire that is the world of arda, these are a people who didn’t get Orome leading them to heaven on earth, they got Morgoth. These are a people who lived in Morgoth’s land for centuries who probably experienced horror and oppression from basically their species infancy. Unlike the elves of valinor, or even the Sindarin protected by Melian, horror and despair would have not been their abnormal, it would be their everyday.  But they aren’t broken, they survive. They make families, connections, lives in this wasteland. They adapt and change, because I think in some ways that is the race of men’s true advantage over elves. That we don’t have a gap on our ‘greatness’ persay, humanity’s ambitions get’s mutated into greed a lot (I mean numenor is a dumspter fire for a reason) but I think that human ambition is a strength because it means we don’t accept our circumstances. The Edian sure didn’t. 

The edain, the Boerians, the people of haleth, and the hadorians, all marched themselves out of morgoth’s land hoping for something better, with NO GUARANTEE they find anything better.  But they still did it. And while we are here, let’s talk about how the race of men has not guarantee of anything, like elves (and dwarves) kind of know where they end up. They go to Mandos and get reborn, they go to aule, respectively. Men...don’t have that. Men really didn’t get anything (but Morgoth and suffering). They leave this world forever, thats what they know. Thats what they are told. 

But no one knows what the means. (Personally, I think its like a good place situation kind of. Eru is just michael and turin is janet) 

But anyway back to the POINT, (if there ever was one) the edain end up finding beleriand but beleriand isn’t the paradise they wanted. But hey, its not morgoth so let’s celebrate said the beorians before promptly getting found by finrod. And look elves did a lot of good for humans, but I also think there is this really bad dynamic of elves holding all the power and men just being in it for the ride. 

Ive made the joke that the elves of the first age are kind of like the edian’s sugar daddies but it’s kind of true. They give them land and like ‘wisdom’ (whatever the fuck that means) and in return men give them their ever increasing numbers. The Silm is a very elven story we don’t really get a lot of human, but when we do I think it’s pretty interesting. Because the relationship between Elves and Men is really uneven in the first age...and all ages even though in later ages forces of men like numenor at their height could I think easily sweep the floor with the elves of the second age combined. I think culturally Elves give a lot more, like men end up picking up their language, though im one hundred percent sure human languages didn’t die out and never do, humans must have shit talked elves a LOT in taliska (oh yes, that is the name of at least the language spoken by the hadorians and beorians, the people of haleth spoke a different dialect) and I think a lot of humans give more in resources (aka men, power, infantry). I mean personally if I was having at a guess I don’t think (as the latecomers) men got very many places to actually farm and have good land and relied on elvish goods to survive. I think this unevenness kind of spurred this idea that ‘elvishness = superior’, so to make this full circle I think a lot of pre edain culture was lost to make place for diet pepsi version of elf culture that we see human cultures like numenor and gondor have, because that’s better than their orn because elves are SPECIal BETTER AND DON’T DIE LIKE US BROKEN AND FALLEN PEOPLE.  ((screams)) 

Okay let’s talk about the death thing. Human and Mortal and Men all mean the same thing, humans die is not a statement that should be up for debate. But the humans of edain, at least from what we see of Andreth is that this was not how it always was. Humans were once immortal like the elves until they were bad and listened to morgoth and then they became mortal and all sick and ew. 

yeahhhh, I don’t think thats true. I think in-universe its a great myth. I love finrod ah andreth for this reason (also andreth is tolkien’s best female character he ever created and the fact that she’s not in the published silm is why we are in the bad timeline) , but I think humans...always were mortal. 

And thats okay. 

We talked about human ambition above, I think that is fueled by the fact that we all die. We have a timer, so we have to do things now, and that’s not a bad mindset to have. I think it gets humjans into trouble but also, imagine your a human in beleriand, you have children, a family, they might have children someday you want to do what you need to do to make sure THEY have a chance. 

(also lets talk about the fucked up fact that humans are punished for lsitening to morgoth in the first place like im sorry that humans didnt have any other valar looking for them, there was no orome, no fucking chance that they could have met anyone else because no valar came for them only morgoth with his lies so yes humans are bad for listening to the only god like entity that seemed like he wanted to help them, the elves did that too but they had nice gods so they are wise while humans who have illness and sickness and death over their heads listen to a guy with power okay jirt i see your double fuckig stnarad and its STUPID) 

And you can’t wait for that chance, so you leap. I think this is best illustrated by Turin of all people. Turin gets called elvish a lot in looks but in actions, he, like most of his family, are allllllllll human. The bridge in nargothrand even though it’s stupid and ends up horribly kind of reminds me of this. Turin doesn’t have time to wait like Gwindor, and Orodreth, etc do. his people have already been fucking disomated, he’s lost his father, his mother is trapped in enemy territory.  He wants to help. 

Sure it blows up in his face, but yknow...the want to do good is there. 

I think on the whole humans get a bad rep...like they’re called stupid and dumb and ugly by both fandom and in universe elves alike. But I don’t think that’s the case. Humans have a lot more balls and have collectively been through more trauma as a species than I think all of the elves (especially valinorian) elves combined. I think when humans fuck up, whether it be turin or numenor, it’s proof of their incompetence, that their inante (eru-given ability) to have ambition to seek beyond the world they live in for something better for something more is evil and they should be more like the elves, stagnant, already at the height of ‘perfection’, never changing....instead of being humans. Like look at these fools trying to act like than can be GOOD at something, sit down and let these elves be best at everything obviously. How many of you would look at me funny if I said, maybe the race of men was BETTER THAN THE ELVES AT SOMETHING? A lot of you im sure, and someone would have a rebuttle for how I was wrong and how this elf was considered the best. 

(like that post going around how could turin actually be #that pretty to thot his way through all of beleriand? Maybe he just Was like that, sure he may have a little elvish ness but honestly I think that be a funny thing elves say to cover up the fact some elves found a icky human was actually just that fucking hot, because obviously humans could never be that actually hot ever, not to intangle a sindarin mast of a guard, a NOLDORIAN VANYAR-DESSCENT PRINCESS, ect) 

Also just to go back to numenor, ever want an example of why it doesnt work for men to act like elves...look at numenor, early numenor was as elvish as humans could produce....but then they got bored. And then numneor became an empire and everyone eventually had so much of a bad time, eru reshaped the fucking world just to wipe the valar’s ‘humans but better’ ocs off the face of the planet. Like just to stray off topic I personally think men can’t go to valinor 1) because the two trees are actually nuclear, and the whole damn island is chernobyl instant death right there and thats why the valinor elves are like #that (they GLOW for gods shake) 2) the monotonous never changing perfection of valinor while amazing in the short term for humans would eventually drive them crazy. Not to say that the race of men doesn’t like some peace and quite or even humans (like myself) can be obverse to change, even I can admit doing the same thing ever day would drive me crazy. 

This got super rambly, but its been a lot of thoughts Ive been having for a long ass time. Basically, I just want people to talk to me about the atani, edian, race of men, whatever you want to call them. They deserve a lot better and a lot more respect than just playing a supporting role to the elves. 

They didn’t kill all those dragons to be ignored like this. 

[idriltelcontar]

OC Interview Tag

Rules: Pick a character from your WIP, and have them answer these 15 questions, then tag 15 people!

I was tagged by the amazing @dove-actually (yours was so funny btw!) I was halfway through doing one for my WIP Crimson Daughters when I got this but I’d love to do one for one of my LotR OCs as well. Thanks for the tag!

Allow me to introduce you one of the only two original MCs in my Lord of the Rings fan fic ‘In Shadows’ .... Neniel!

 1: What is your full name?

 I am Princess Neniel Galadhwen, daughter of Legolas and Nenwen. Most people just call me Neniel. I’ve never been one for formality and titles!

2: What does your full name mean?

Neniel is Sindarin for ‘daughter of water/lake’ and is a reference to my heritage as a Water Elf through my mother, Nenwen. Galadhwen is Sindarin for ‘lady of the woods/trees’ and is a reference to my father Legolas, a Wood Elf. I love my names, and they reflect how proud I am of my cultural background.

3: What are your other names/nicknames?

I was often called Sídhiel when I was born, which means ‘Child of Peace’ in Sindarin. My parent’s marriage was the first union between Water Elves and Wood Elves and the two kingdoms had been estranged from each other for centuries. I guess everyone thought I was going to be the great unifier or something, but I’m not that interested in diplomacy. My SO calls me Lalaith, which means Laughter, because that is what I love doing the most. I’ve also been called the Lady of Mirkwood, Lady Neniel and Nenuial (after the lake of the same name). 

Wow, that’s a lot of names. But I’m an Elf. This is pretty much normal for us.

4: What’s your gender?

I am female.

5: What’s your sexuality?

My what? Hmm ... never thought about it before. Romance has never been high on my priorities. After all, I’m still considered a young elf. There IS however a certain young man I’ve had my eye on lately ...

6: Where are you from?

I’m from Mirkwood and live in the halls of my grandfather, Thranduil. But because of my mother I often spend a lot of time travelling between Mirkwood and my other grandfather’s kingdom by the Sea of Rhun. I love both, and feel equally at home in either place.

7: How old are you?

I am twenty four, which is still very young for an elf and I’m constantly treated as a child who needs to be protected. They say I’m naive. I don’t see it myself.

8: What is your magic form/what species are you?

I am an Elf, partly of Sindar and Avari heritage. 

9: What does your human form look like?

Human form? I think you mean Elf form. Like most of my mother’s kin I am very short, about the same as a human woman of average height, which makes me stand out among the tall Elves of my father’s people. I’m physically small and look younger than my years. I have long dark hair, pale skin and silver eyes.

10: What’s your aesthetic?

Water. Blues, silvers and greens. Long flowing robes, pretty silks, bare arms, soft shades, sparkles. Gently lapping stream. Green leaves softly shimmering in the sun.

11: Who’s your best friend?

I’ve always been fairly solitary. My only real friend (but more like a brother) is Faervel. He is a member of my grandfather’s guard and was assigned to be my protector at birth. He’s the only other young elf in Mirkwood (he’s only 187) and we bonded straight away. He accompanies me on my travels between Mirkwood and Rhun. Faervel puts on a serious face all the time, but I can make him laugh more than anyone else can (that is, until a certain young man from Rohan shows up). We love to sing together and tell stories.

12: Would you ever get a piercing/ tattoo?

If it looked pretty! Don’t think my grandfathers would approve though. But I’m not the sort of person who would think things like this through before doing them.

13: When are you happiest?

In my mother’s secret pool outside the palace in Mirkwood. She hated being under trees all the time and wanted a place to connect with water. When I stand underneath the waterfall and feel the power and the energy within the water I feel bright and alive, like I’m part of the lifeblood of the world. I love it there, which is why I took a certain special someone there ...

14: What’s your biggest secret?

I’m very open and tend not to have secrets. But ... I guess it would be how upset I am over the strife between my two families. I never wanted to be caught in the middle. I just wanted to be left alone. I hide just how much it troubles me. I don’t like to show my demons. I hide it behind laughter and silliness.

Although ... I did have one pretty huge secret involving a young prince of Gondor. 

15: What was your first impression of Eldarion?

*smiles and stares into the distance for several minutes*

Eldarion? Well, he’s reckless, arrogant, often bad-tempered and petty ... but I saw the softer side straight away. The side which is like me: trying to live up to someone else’s expectations. I didn’t believe he could be real when I first met him. That’s why I call him Olon ... dream.

That was fun! Not sure if any of you have been tagged before but feel free to do it again/ignore it if you want! @edelweissroses (one of the OCs in GMDS?? I loved them!) @the-real-rg, @theswordofpens,  @farrradays, @blueinkblot, @ownworldresident  @mlgwrites and  anyone else who wants to do it! My mind is completely blank at the moment

Will post my half complete one for Crimson Daughters soon!

[b7nnyst7ffs-archive]

i got tagged again!! by my good friend @mycitynowdotjpeg (you probably know lee from the psa post i reblogged! if you haven’t seen it check it out!!!

The rules are:

Tag 10 followers you’d like to know better!

Nickname: Bunny, Maggie and Maggs!


Gender: honestly? right now she’s been kinda everywhere and no where??? I’m a girl for now until i figure shit out!! but who’s got the time


Star sign: Libra!!! My horoscope is always a Callout post!


Height: 5′10”!!! I grew an inch!!! :D


Sexuality: Bisexual


Average Hours of Sleep: who is she


Cat or Dog person: Oh I am a big Magnus burnsides on this one I am a major dog person


Hogwarts House: gryffindor!! I got a freakin dolphin as my patronis tho wth


Favorite Anime: y’all out here playing dumb like you don’t know it’s dragon ball z!! That’s my shiiit!!!

Favorite Video Game: okay any other time of the year this year I would have said the walking dead bUT ITS BIRDY BOYFRIEND SEASON SO YOU KNOW IM GOING HATOFUL BOYFRIEND

Dream Trip: there’s a lot of places I’d love love love to go but uh I’ve never seen my great grandma’s tombstone? So I think rn my dream trip is going to Texas and seeing it! 


I made my blog: okay so some of y’all!!! Saw my ass in 2012 acting the fool on this blog with my old url that I wish wOULD DIE PLEASE


Followers: 389!!! I’m so close to 400!!!!


Why I made my tumblr: wowowow okay! So I had this great friend who had a super cool dbz oc named Shugo who was goku’s half sister!!! (God I really don’t remember her username!!! Ootsut-something) And she thought I was a peach she had this period in her life where she told everyone on deviantART that she was switching to tumblr exclusive!! And I remembered being so heartbroken and scared I wouldn’t get to talk to her anymore so I said NAH and I made my tumblr back in Satan’s year of 2012! ... jfc I don’t think I’ve talked to her since 2013 😂

EDIT: I did some hunting for this person and I think she’s @itachidere now!! We haven’t talked in years but I guarantee their art!!! Is still worth looking at!!


Reason for my URL: this current one: I self destructed my old url and everything with it to grab me a fresh start!!! And I liked bunnies so!! On my iPhone when you switch from keyboard to the... other keyboard with numbers and stuff! The 7 lines up to where the letter u would be! So!! Ta-da!!

Okay let’s play the the game does Maggie know ten ppl!!! @notmadoka @music-for-the-soulmate @grapes-of-craft @just-clarota-things @spaceparadize @nocloudsintheskye @blenoasty (blenoasty I love the aesthetic change to blue btw) @frostisass (I know it’s been a WHILE since we talked!!! I gotta hit you up!!) @dreamingreality00 and if any of y’all just wanna do this for funsies!!!! ;0 go ahead and do it!!! Especially my ask box anons! I don’t know y’all but you bless me!

There we go!! Thanks again for @mycitynowdotjpeg for tagging me!!! Please go support them and their art @leedoobles they are incredibly talented and incredibly sweet! And to everyone else who got notified because I tagged them!!!! Happy holidays! You’re all amazing! And even if you don’t think so, I think you’re amazing!

[braith-eisen-isms]

Random Facts Tag-Game!!

So I was tagged by... a few people. From my last count it was: @stark-ryker-isms, @miss-pyrrha-nikos-isms, @queen-of-nerds20 and @jaune-isms. So thanks guys. I love you all, but the tags... there’s so many of them all!

Nickname: Bear.

Gender: Male (I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned this before, but here it is. If anyone’s curious I’ll write a post about how I wound up running only female character blogs. But the short version is I had 2 teams worth of OC’s I could have picked for my first blog, but Braith was the most interesting character of the lot. In my opinion.)

Star sign: Sagittarius

Height: 6′1″

Hogwarts house: Hufflepuff, apparently.

Favorite animal: Bears, or dogs.

Hours of sleep: Probably 5-7... ish.

Dogs or cats: Dogs.

Number of blankets: One. I don’t know what the cold even is.

Dream trip: I want to go on a big tour of the British Isles. Particularly Wales, Scotland and Ireland.

Dream job: Author, RPing is one of my favorite writing practices, and that’s why I tend to hold my posts to a fairly high standard.

Time: 10:38pm

Birthday: December 11th

Favorite bands: Sabaton, Rebellion, Falconshield, Iron Maiden and The Rumjacks.

Favorite solo artists: Karliene and Miracle of Sound

Song stuck in my head: Gold Dust Woman (the version from the Dishonored soundtrack).

Movie I last watched: Dunkirk

Show I last watched: RWBY, I don’t have RT First but Vol 5 is amazing so far!

When did I create my blog: Middle of this year. I was just about to have exams... I probably shouldn’t have, but I was inspired after finding @carr-hayes-isms blog!

What do I post/reblog: RP responses mostly. If I wrote shorter one’s I’d probably have time for memes as well...

Last thing I googled: 'Necromunda Release Date 2017′ (I’m hyped for the chance to spend more of my nonexistant money on expensive plastic figurines that I can’t paint for shit).

Other blogs: @terravolksisms, @raven-isms, @cinders-falling, @nikos-falling and just earlier today @team-glnt-isms (link is broken apprently), the last one is a blog I’ve made to introduce the original team of OC’s I made for RWBY back in 2015. Their leader, Gawain is Braith’s rival. And kind of once boyfriend. (It lasted a week, don’t get jealous Carr).

Do I get asks: Sometimes. More is always appreciated. If I take my time responding it’s because I want to give you a good, if not better response! Don’t be shy people!

Why I chose my url: I was inspired by the many ‘isms’ blogs on here, so naturally I chose to just sneak myself in there, since no one else had a Braith.

Following: 248

Followers: Braith: 69 (ey)

Cinder: 429 holy shit you guys!

Raven: 356!

Terra: 26 (Go give her some more love! I love RPing as her!)

Pyrrha: 20

Team GLNT: 0 (Haven’t posted anything there yet, so big surprise!)

Favorite instrument: Drums (although Sabaton did use a machine gun as a drum in The Lost Battalion which is pretty awesome. But I don’t think that really counts)

What I am wearing: Jeans and a polo.

Favorite food: Chicken Parmigiana, or a good roast.

Nationality: Australian

Favorite song: Evil Speaks by Rebellion.

Last book I read: The Bands of Mourning by Brandon Sanderson.

Three fictional universes I’d like to join: Remnant from RWBY, the Pokemon world and the world of Skulduggery Pleasant.

Tagging: I don’t know... I think everyone’s already done this by now... I’m so bad at keeping track of these things.

If you haven’t done this yet consider yourself tagged, if you have, you’re tagged anyway?

[agentharrisonofshield-a]

RANDOM FACTS ABOUT THE MUN.

Repost, not reblog! Tag muns you would like to get to know better when done!

Name: Zen Nickname: Zen, Satan, Vivian mun Age: 32 Faceclaim: None Pronouns: She/Her Height: 5′10″ Birthday: January 6 Aesthetic: Books, messy rooms, laptops, worn tshirts and jeans, Hungarian embroidery, statement glasses, tea, geeky throw blankets, art museums Last song you listened to: I honestly have no idea

Favourite muse(s) you’ve written: Vivian, Ros, and Duvessa.  I love all my OCs (or at least I love my concepts for them), but Vivian, Ros, and Duvessa are my favorites to write and explore and write thousands of words of meta about.

What inspired you to take on your current muse (that you are posting this on): I’m sure people are getting bored of hearing the story, but I was suffering a massive depressive episode made worse by my insurance fucking up and refusing to refill my meds.  My ex put Avengers on one day, and I found myself coming up with a post-Avengers scenario in which a straight up self-insert found herself dealing with shit while going through med withdrawal because everyone was stranded in the wilderness with no preparation.  (I called SHIELD having the sceptre and running experiments with it, as well as with Chitauri biotech.  I’m rather pleased with how close I came to what would show up in the films.)  Eventually my ex persuaded me to try actually writing the story instead of just laying on the couch daydreaming it, and Vivian was born.  

As has happened before, actually writing the story changed Vivian’s character, and she changed more when I brought her to tumblr.  

What are your favourite aspects of your current muse: Well, first of all, I like the representation.  It’s beyond rare to get an autistic character whose story doesn’t revolve around being autistic.  It’s beyond rare to get a bipolar character whose story doesn’t revolve around being bipolar.  No offense to the authors and writers who write those stories, but frankly learning to cope with autism and bipolar disorder have been side plots in my life, not the plot to my life, and that’s how I write Vivian.

I like the layers to her.  The complexity.  Vivian’s cynical tough-girl ‘I don’t do emotions or caring’ facade is just that: a facade.  Under that is someone who is emotional and does care - a lot  - but who doesn’t want to get hurt, and she wants to be taken seriously, so she makes a big show of being someone else.  (And then under all of that is another secret layer but you must achieve level 40 friend status to unlock it.)  

What’s your biggest inspiration when it comes to writing: Getting a reaction from people.  Anything from ‘I love Vivian’ to ‘OMFG HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME MAKE IT BETTER NOW’.  Compliments about my muses go a long way; frankly I dive into my ‘things to make the mun smile’ tag when I have the muse to write but am struggling with the motivation.  

And, as always, watching source material associated with my muses is an inspiration.  I’ve watched Spooks a million times and SatanFIsh still just got a dozen messages on Ros’ reaction to something compared to another character’s reaction.  Avengers and CA:TWS always inspires Vivian (as well as the NetflixMCU shows for the most part?).  Duvessa has no source material but anything sufficiently ballet-related or vampire-related inspires her.

Favourite types of threads: I lean towards angst, but that’s just because depending on who she’s interacting with Vivian can easily be very angsty.  I’m still not over the time she turned a really great smut thread into angst in a single reply.  Like Vivian why.  I like anything that pushes character development, though.  Anything that makes Vivian question why she thinks or acts the way she does is amazing.  Anything that makes her do that and then forces her to react to her questioning, and either double down on her position or change it is even better.  

Biggest struggle in regards to your current muse: Her refusal to engage in emotional relationships with people, including friendships.  To be entirely honest, I’ve had to dial that back a bit, just because there are muses I think she would have (and does have) great friendships with, but if I let Vivian have her way it would have taken these full four years for her to get to the point where she allows them to call her a friend, or considers them friends herself.  

Tagged By: Stolen From: @weaponsdonotweep Tagging: Anyone who wants to do the thing

[salty-dracon]

ace hang plays noctis umbra part 3

SINS OF ANGELS | Noctis Umbra Part 3 | Ace Hang Plays Otome

(Yes, they do have semi-serious titles when shit hits the fan)

Last time on Ace Hang Plays Otome: 

Lily: Wow, he’s UGLY. How the FUCK is this guy a SUCCUBUS he’s UGLY

Brid: Well, technically he’d be an incubus. Because he’s a guy. 

Lily: That doesn’t change the fact that he’s UGLY

Brid: Maybe he radiates some kind of.... hot energy-

Lily: THE. ONLY ENERGY. THAT FUCKER RADIATES. IS CATCALLING YOU FROM HIS 2002 HONDA CIVIC WHILE WEARING A TWO YEAR OLD SWEAT-COVERED WIFE BEATER ENERGY. 

Brid: You don’t-

Lily: HE LOOKS LIKE A GIJINKA FOR THE WORD DOMESTIC ABUSE

---------

Lily: Hey, everyone! Ace Hang here! I’m Lily!

Brid: I’m Brid! 

(Val and Arthur pop in from the sides) 

Val: I’m Val!

Arthur: And I’m Arthur! 

All: And we’re playing Noctis Umbra Chapter Two! 

Brid: Yes, that’s right! The whole gang’s here and together for a nice round of otome! 

Val: It’s summer vacation, and our Minecraft 1.14 series will be up as soon as 1.14.2 is out, just so all of the bugs are ironed out. We’re planning to play multiplayer and do experiments to keep all of your spirits up. 

Lily: I’m super excited. 

Arthur: Yeah, same. We’ve got tons of plans! 

Brid: But for now, Noctis Umbra Chapter 2 is out, and when we last left off, we learned that Valerius was lying to us again. 

Lily: Also our dad is ugly and evil. 

Arthur: Rana is a queen. 

Val: Thor was there...?

Brid: .... Yeah, basically. Let’s get back to the action! 

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

Lily: A Kapre. A stalker.... Do you guys know anything about that? 

Val: Capre.... Caper... 

Brid: Oh, Capra demon. Remember that 4chan post? 

Val: Oh yeah! 

Arthur: ...? 

Lily: Super sexy demon or something. In the post he had a goat skull head. Wonder what this boi’s gonna look like. 

Arthur: He’ll either be adorable or ugly.  

(Efren appears) 

Lily: ffffFFWAHAHAHA WHAT IS THAT

Brid: That is not what I was expecting. 

Arthur: I was expecting like, James Bond, not a guy in a mohawk wearing a Minecraft shirt! 

Val: Wow. Holy shit. Oh my god. He looks like a cis guy decided to dress like a  fucking drag queen for Halloween without knowing what a drag queen was. He looks like someone who unironically enjoys Kingdom Hearts and somehow mixed in a shitty hacker aesthetic. He looks like a 30 year old virgin who also runs a gaming channel that relies on clickbait for income. He looks like a guy cosplaying as his own My Hero Academia OC. He looks like-

Brid: Okay, that’s enough. 

Lily: He looks like that one Invader Zim character watches anime all day in his basement-

Brid: Stop it. Anyway, looks like he’s with the enemy... and wants to recruit us... and give us cookies. 

Lily: Cookies. Om nom nom. 

-----------

Lily: WAHAHA they’re good cookies. 

Brid: I love the little package of cookies on her lap. 

Val: Seriously, I’d kill a guy who gave me too many cookies, though. At 3am. Every day. 

Lily: “You’re just grumpy because you’re hungry. You’re hangry.”

Arthur: “I am not hangry!”

Lily: “You sound hangry!”

Val: And Tae steals the cookies. And they’re good. 

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

Val: You know, I’m glad the main characters are warming up to Tora. Not treating her like a kid. 

Brid: She’s learning high school chemistry, so I don’t think it’s out of the question that she’s at least fifteen. 

Arthur: Yeah. And MyDude is treating her very nicely. 

Val: Yeah. I’m glad. Like seriously, edgy war stories just... hate kids. Like, fuck the kids. Adults are the only ones that survive here. 

Lily: Yeah, it’s nice change of pace. EY, RANA! Look, Arthur. That’s my favorite character. 

Arthur: I see.

Val: Honestly, the whole Noctis Umbra crew is great. Except for Valerius. Fuck that guy. 

Arthur: I think he might have a reason for keeping those secrets of his, though. 

Val: This is coming from the same guy who actually trusts the rich kid in the other one they were playing. Fuck, I forget his name. 

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

Val: “Ae-ri needs your help grocery shopping.”

Lily: I’m gonna be super surprised if it’s not like the South Asian market my parents visit for cheap spices. 

Brid: Seriously, what else do you expect from this game? 

.........

Brid: Yes, that’s the last place I expected to find a bunch of underworld denizens that are part demon or something. Going shopping at a grocery store. And not a South Asian market.

Lily: What, did you think they subsided on human energy alone? 

Val: I mean, Tae lives offa sweets. First he ate his sister’s cheesecake, then he ate those cookies, then he ate that pudding... he’s just got a big sweet tooth.

Lily: Oh, big mood, Tae. I like him. He and Keelan are so funny. Everyone’s just laying into him. 

Arthur: “That’s a lot of hot sauce...” 

Brid: I see we’ve got our own weird tastes... 

Val: Ha. Melons. Innuendos. 

Lily: Or Avatar reference. 

Arthur: ... 

Brid: What’s up?  

Arthur: Imagine- meanwhile in the aisle next door, Riley hits her teacher with a shopping cart!

Lily: That would be an amazing easter egg. Keelan’s looking for his paint, barely dodges a chaotic dumbass bisexual disaster, she immediately hits someone else who happens to be her teacher. 

Val: Said teacher was also hacking the grocery store’s WiFi with his phone, which proceeds to fall into the lobster tank. 

Lily: Not saying Riley wouldn’t do that. 

(Small animation with bad doodles)

Arthur: I imagine Keelan’s like... “Alright... broad paintbrush, purple acrylic paint... ” and he just hears screaming, and there’s Riley just narrowly missing him and slamming right into her teacher. 

Brid: You say that like she intentionally hit him. 

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

Val: OH GOD IT’S THE UGLY GUY!

Lily: Damn. That’s the first thing you fixate on?

Arthur: Oh boy. Something’s going down... 

Lily: Is Valerius here? Is that why she’s- Oh, hey Luca. 

Val: Oh my god, it’s Tall Evil Valerius. 

Brid: He’s so tall we can’t even see the top of his head. 

Lily: That’s funny, because I always imagined Valerius to be like, 5′4... 

Val: His name is “Aleron”. HOLY FUCK HE JUST KILLED LUCA

Arthur: OH MY GOD

Lily: WELL THAT’S NOT GOOD AT ALL IS IT

Brid: FUCKING DEAD. PRESS F. 

Lily: REMINDER TO HIT THAT F BUTTON IF YOU’RE ANGRY THAT LUCA JUST DIED

Brid: AND SHE JUST OMAE WA MOU SHINDEIRUS HIM

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

Lily: That feeling when you teleport the enemy leader right into your base. 

Val: Fucking seriously. The whole crew must be having aneurysms. 

Arthur: Ha. “I leave you alone for two seconds and you start a world war.”

Lily: Welcome back to another episode of “Man with half the facts in heated debate with man with zero facts”. 

(Meme appears on screen with the two men’s faces replaced with Leo and Valerius)

Brid: More like “Two men seriously think they know what’s right for the world as a whole based on flawed information”. 

Val: “Where’s her room?!” “She doesn’t have one.” “Where does she sleep?!” “The couch.” 

Brid: Get ready for Angry Father Rage. 

Val: “YOU LET MY DAUGHTER SLEEP ON A COUCH?!”.... DAMMIT why did the scene have to end there. 

Lily: So you wouldn’t have to yell at yourself?

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

Val: “Your mother loved heights too-” Sheesh, did she love jumping off them?!

Lily: Fucking hell. Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what he meant, though. 

Brid: Yeah, this guy’s kind of an asshole, to be honest. 

Arthur: I guess with the whole unification thing, they need her. 

Lily: I love how she’s mad Aleron killed Luca because she wanted to punch him in the face. 

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

Val: Oh boy, things are heating up. So because of the prophecy, the demon kids are all uniting, and the angels wanna beat em back. And they took over a human organization to do it. 

Lily: Angels. It’s always angels. 

Brid: Do any of you like Valerius any more now? 

Val: NO. He’s kind of a dickhead. Still. 

Arthur: At least he’s telling us more. 

Brid: Yeah, very true. 

Val: Why does Valerius look at us and see everything right with Nocturnals? We’re an angry district attorney who sucks the life out of people with the power of Satan and anime. 

Lily: Angels. It’s always angels. 

Arthur: You said that. 

Brid: I did say I’d romance Valerius, so-

Val: WAIT I NEVER SAID I’D DO A KISS SCENE-

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

Lily: And with that, looks like we’ve reached the end of Chapter 3! What do you guys think? This is your first time playing with us, right?

Val: ... Why do I have to be rolled up in the politics of white men? 

Lily: Pretty sure Leo’s Latino. 

Val: Still. 

Brid: Politics, politics. I still do love the group dynamic between the Noctis Umbra crew, though. Not Valerius, just MyDude, Ae-ri... 

Arthur: Tae, Keelan, and Rana. Yeah. And whoever else I’m forgetting. They’re very cute together, and it kinda sucks that they’re dealing with the whole underground war thing, otherwise I feel like we’d get a lot of cute scenes with them. 

Lily: Very true. Any theories? 

Arthur: Remember when Valerius called MyDude Umbra? I think it’s because she’s the kid of both an angel and a demon. 

Brid: Oooooo. What do you have to back it up? 

Arthur: We don’t see much about her mother. Apparently she left her in an orphanage named after a saint. Also, Leo mentioned that the mom loved heights. Besides the jumping implication, it might mean that she’s an angel. Maybe one that couldn’t fly.

Lily: I think umbra does mean shadow, which evokes themes of both light and darkness, so it’s very possible. 

Brid: Interesting. Well, we’ve been recording for an hour, so I think that’s all the time we have for today. 

Lily: Sweet! 

Brid: Can’t wait to see where this story takes us next! And we’re planning our next playthrough to probably be either the next part of Oathbreaker, or Hatoful Boyfriend. 

Val: Make sure to like and subscribe for more content, and stay classy! 

[gayjaytodd]

Rules: Tag 20 blogs you’d like to know better. 
 I was tagged by the incomparable @nolofucker
- give ‘em a follow!

Nickname: variations of becs and becsen, sometimes becky
 Zodiac sign: gemini 
Height: 5’5 
Last Thing You googled: that new film that viggo mortensen is oscar-nominated for (it looked fucking awful btw) 
Favorite music artist: idk uhm… hozier?? I like a lot of music tbh; right now I’m really into soundtracks, specifically ones composed by bear mccreary who is simply amazing

Last Movie you watched: an unexpected journey bc I like tolkien and pain 
What are you wearing right now: blue skinny jeans, black sneakers, green jumper, glasses and array of weird-ass jewellery 
What do you post: memes, political things, fandoms, anything that grabs my attention really

Why did you choose your URL: because I love ingoldo and dumb puns (does my url qualify as a pun? dk dc)

Do you have any other blogs: nah one’s enough for me

What Did Your Past Relationship Teach You: that I have commitment issues and am not really into dudes

Religious Or Spiritual: I’m jewish, technically, but I’ve always been more drawn to like asatru and the more pantheistic religions

Favourite Color: dark green; especially that sort of autumn green that goes really well with red

Average Hours Of Sleep: six or seven

Lucky Number: 13

Favourite character: lena luthor, john silver, curufin, ingoldo, boromir, too many to count honestly

How Many Blankets Do you Sleep With: just my duvet tbh i overheat really easy

Dream Job: acting, no doubt about it, if I can live on acting I’d be very happy

Board games, video games or tabletop games?: board games, my family is really into board games and it’s awesome

Do you have any OCs? If yes, talk about a couple of them!: I do! she doesn’t have a proper name yet, but she’s a noblewoman whose entire family was murdered in a war with the neighbouring noble family, and now she wants revenge (obviously), and she’s like not a very good person? she’s an assassin and like doesn’t see anything wrong with killing people for money; I’m not sure where her story ends yet but it’s gonna have a happy-ish ending. probably. One thing you wish was canon in a fiction story/fandom?: I can’t really think of anything tbh

Favourite thing to draw/ write about/ think about?: I dally in a lot of different things but the three I always return to are Star Wars, Tolkien, and Harry Potter.

The strangest song you like (and a link to it if possible!): I… I got nothing I’m sorry

A book/story/fanfiction you read recently and would recommend (doesn’t have to be fiction): everyone should read dancing with my punchlines by the amazing @imindhowwelayinjune and sansûkh by @determamfidd those are my two favourite fanfics ever; also if you like slash you should just take a general look at 1D fanfic bc there’s a lot of amazing, original, incredibly well-written Larrie fics out there

I tag: @thebooknerdkaro @feanope @dandalf-da-gay my entire face is in pain and I am literally incapable of thinking of anyone else so like if you wanna do the Thing consider yourself tagged in the Thing cheers