#remi's writing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ratwhowrites · 8 months

Text

The Breaking Point

TW: Swearing, mentions of torture, manipulation, kidnaping

“Dallas!”

Artemis screamed at the top of her lungs. Her voice was starting to give out. She just needed him, or anyone to hear her. Please, she begged silently. Please save me. A manical giggle interrupted her thoughts

“Scream all you want Artemis! That hero is never coming!” Romero wouldn’t lie to himself and say he wasn’t enjoying this, seeing Artemis on her last string. She had started off so strong, fighting back and hardly listening to him. Now she could barely stand as she begged for someone to save her. It was highly amusing.

Artemis put all her force into one last scream, praying to whatever gods were listening that someone would hear her and come to her rescue.

“Dallas!”

Her throat felt as if it were on fire. She coughed and tried to yell again, but it came out weak and hoarse. Romero sighed in disappointment, standing up from his seat.

“Oh believe me, I know. I’m disappointed too. I wanted this to be big! I wanted a show! A glorious fight where he comes to save you, finally proving that he cares about something other than his career. But it looks like I was right. He’s selfish. No one is coming for you Artemis.”

“No,”

A quiet mumble came from Artemis. She looked up at him, but the defiant look had long faded away. She looked to be on the verge of tears, trying to convince herself more than Romero.

“He’s not selfish… he- he’s good.”

She slapped her hand over her mouth as soon as she saw his expression. He smiled, but it was anything but pleasant. It seemed almost bitter as he kneeled down to her level, staring directly into her eyes.

“If he’s so good… if he’s as gracious as everyone says he is… then where is he Artemis?”

Artemis shook her head, refusing to answer him but unable to look away. Romero sighed in annoyance, getting visibly more irritated.

“Where is he?! If he’s this wonderful hero, then why hasn’t he come to rescue you yet? It has been six months now. Aren’t you two inseparable? Correct me if I’m wrong but that normally means he cares. If he cared, he would have saved you already! He would have saved Flynn already! But he didn’t… You know this has happened two times already? TWO TIMES! And now… you are the third time he has chosen his career as a hero over his so-called friends. Don’t you get it Artemis? He doesn’t care about any of us!”

Artemis was violently shaking her head, not wanting to believe it, but the evidence didn’t lie… Romero might be right… What if he never saves her? Tears wouldn’t stop streaming from her eyes as she mumbled ‘He’ll come back for me’. Romero sighed, composing himself as to not scare her anymore. He reached out and gently wiped her tears away, and this time, she didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry kid. How about I make you a deal? If he doesn’t come for you in five days, I give you a choice. You can go home, everything will be like how it was. Or, you could stay here… permanently. We could use someone with your abilities here at the castle. You’d have a nice big room, a comfy bed, all the food you could eat, and money to fund your work. What do you say?”

Artemis went silent. If he had offered this six months ago, she would have spat in his face and say she’d rather die than help him. But now…

“Can I think it over?” She was surprised by her own words. How could she even consider that after everything he put her through? Still… it meant somewhere to stay.

“Of course. I’ve got some work to finish up. Flynn will be down with your dinner in a little while. Sweet dreams CC.” Romero nodded before going back up the stairs, leading out of the dungeon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five days had passed and Dallas never once made an appearance. Artemis had already lost hope. Romero descended down the stairs, his boots making a sound as they made contact with the stone steps that Artemis had grown accustomed to. In his hand, he held a key. Artemis sat there expressionless, waiting for him to say something.

“Good morning starlight!” He cheerfully chirped. “Today’s the day!” The prince leaned down and placed the key in its place, and removed Artemis’s restraints. Even afterwards, she sat there, a look of pure hopelessness in her eyes. It seems like Romero had finally broken her.

“Have you made your choice yet?” He tilted his head, still smiling. She looked up at him blankly.

“I want to go home,” her voice was still hoarse, leaving a stinging feeling from speaking. Even her voice sounded monotone. “I want my mom.” Romero tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“Ok! Your stuff is all ready for you at the door. Say hi to auntie Meridian for me!” And with that, he left.

It took Artemis several attempts to just stand up, her legs no longer used to walking, causing them to give out. She fell a few times, bruising her elbow. Finally, using the wall as support, she made her way up the stairs, wincing in pain as she did so.

Just as Romero had said, her satchel was there with all of her possessions. She carefully bent down and picked it up, the weight nearly causing her to topple over. She limped through the halls, trying to remember the way back to the main room, where the doors were. Everything looks so much nicer up here, she thought to herself.

After twenty minutes or so of wandering, she made it to the large doors. Freedom. She put all her weight against the door, pushing to get it open. She wasn’t prepared for the blaring sun to beam down directly on her. Everything was suddenly too bright to look at. Perhaps from spending six months in the dark dungeon where the only source of light were the torches that were occasionally lit. She squinted, attempting to shield her now sensitive eyes from the sunlight, while she looked around for the exit off of castle grounds.

As she walked, she passed a fountain, sparkling in the light. She took the opportunity to asses the damage by looking at her reflection. The rippling water made it difficult as it distorted her image. From what she could see, her clothes were filthy as was her stringy hair which had become matted and horribly tangled. She looked disgusting and beaten down to say the least. Her wrists were heavily bruised from the restraints that had held her all those months. Oddly enough, it felt like they were still there. She was distracted from the thought by a sudden pain in her stomach. She rummaged through her bag to see if there was anything to eat. Romero had been kind enough to provide her some snacks, as well as money for the journey home. She greedily scarfed down the food, feeling a small bit of energy return. She stood and started on her way back home.

The journey had taken longer than she had hoped, even after falling asleep in the carriage that sped back to Silverstone. She used the money Romero had given her to pay the driver for the trip. She spent the last hour of the trip thinking about what she’d say to her family when she got back home. How was she going to tell everyone that Romero, who had been presumed dead, held her captive for months? Dallas crossed her mind briefly, wondering what she would say to him. Would she be angry? Would she cry? She didn’t know and was honestly too exhausted to care.

She stumbled out of the carriage, breathing in the familiar dusty air of her hometown. Her torn boots left prints in the dirt as she went. When out of the blue, the last person she wanted to see came rushing out of a small shop. Dallas’s movements were odd and slightly stiff, but it must’ve been her imagination. He spotted her, an expression she couldn’t quite place crossed his face.

“Artemis?” He blinked to make sure she was real. She stiffened and stared him down.

“Dallas.”

“Where the fuck have you been?” He demanded, narrowing his eyes at her. She jumped from the sudden harshness in his tone. Whatever she had expected his reaction to be, this was the farthest thing from it.

“I- I could ask you the same question,” She started. She planned to chew him out for abandoning her, but before she could get another word out, he snapped back.

“No no don’t give me that horseshit! You disappeared for months without a word and come back just to try and get rude with me? I asked you a fucking question. Where have you been all this time? Do you realize your mother has been worried sick? Spencer has gone out every night looking for you. And you know, I could have used your help when those monsters attacked the ranch. So where were you then?”

Artemis was left speechless for a moment. They had been looking for her? She stood there, mouth agape as she struggled for a comeback. But all she could come up with was,

“The ranch was attacked?”

“Yeah. Spencer was nearly killed because he was so damn tired looking for you. Everyone was.” Dallas spat, venom in every word.

She was still in shock, wanting to go home and check on her family. But she wasn’t finished with him just yet.

“Listen here. I have spent the last six months enduring hell because of you! He kept me prisoner, reminding me every day that you weren’t coming. But I didn’t listen,” Artemis hissed. She became more upset as she recalled her time at the castle. “I believed that you would come and save me because we were friends. But because you don’t want to own up to your mistakes, you left me behind with him!” Fresh tears fell, she voice becoming shakier every minute.

“He tortured me, and hurt me. And I held on because I waited for when you would come and rescue me. But you never did.” She trembled with rage and fear, all the emotions she had forced back came bubbling to the surface all at once as she proceeded to scream at him. When she had finished, she was breathing heavily, the panic setting back in.

Dallas stared at her with a murderous look. It sent a chill down her spine. She has never seen him this angry before. And it was terrifying.

“You want to know where I’ve been?” He started, taking a small step towards her.

“I have spent the last six months trying to cover up the mess you left behind.” Another step. “I have been working to help Meridian make ends meet, keep this town safe, and be there for the family that YOU left behind! I haven’t done anything other than help everyone here and I am sick of being accused of things. How dare you try to blame this on me after everything I have done for you and your family? I have spent every second of every day, providing for someone in some way. I found you, I brought you here and gave you a home. And you come back blaming me for your disappearance?” Dallas was now a few inches away from her, standing at his full height, towering over the frightened girl.

“You shouldn’t have even bothered coming back.”

Artemis didn’t know how long it took but before she knew it, she was running back to the castle doors, her legs threatening to give out from under her.

Romero was caught off guard as Artemis suddenly tackled him in a hug, burying her tear-stained face into his coat.

“You were right about everything. I got there and- and he blamed me. He was so mad. You were right… he didn’t care..” She sobbed. Romero sighed and wrapped his arms around the shapeshifter.

“Oh Artemis… I’m so sorry. I tried to warn you, I really did. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. Shh, breathe kiddo. It’s ok. I’m here for you.” Artemis relaxed a little bit, looking up at him hopefully.

“I want to join you. To stay here. If.. if you’ll still let me.” Romero smiles softly, ruffling her hair.

“Of course, you can. Tomorrow, we’ll get you some clean clothes and anything else you want. How does that sound?” She finally smiled, wiping her tears and giving a small nod. “Wonderful! Ellen would you be a dear and show Artemis to her room?” Ellen responded with a simple ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ and led Artemis up the stairs. The prince gave a small wave before returning to his desk.

Romero chuckled darkly closing his spell book which had a bookmark placed in the chapter titled Illusions.

#Remi's writing #Rat man's ocs #romero astrophel #artemis dixon #dallas curtis #The Isles of Lazui

7 notes · View notes

ratlingrun · 13 days

Text

Feel free to explain how you sort in the tags

#remy writes

4K notes · View notes

originalartblog · 8 months

Text

Tiny skk adventures!

not like they're also cranky and tired and touch-starved

#tiny skk adventures #''why is chuuya at the ada'' you're asking too many questions. why is any of this happening.#this skk flavour (like most i offer) comes with a free choice of romantic platonic something in-between or whatever else you may want #but here the longing is mandatory #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanart #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #bsd chuuya #bsd nakahara chuuya #skk #soukoku #and friends #nawy's comics #AH DANG I FORGOT TO WRITE #dedicated to remi who's enabling me and bombarding me with ideas for the tinies

5K notes · View notes

feral-ballad · 5 months

Text

Remi Kanazi, from Before the Next Bomb Drops: Rising Up from Brooklyn to Palestine; “Layover in Palestine”

[Text: “just want to sit and be present / feel what it is like to be home / without someone pulling / on my shoulder / taking me away”]

#remi kanazi #palestinian literature #occupation #genocide #death #ethnic cleansing #resistance #displacement #excerpts #writings #literature #poetry #fragments #selections #words #quotes #poetry collection #typography

752 notes · View notes

ashersanity · 3 months

Text

Something awfully ironic about owners and their pets, leathered collar tucked snugly around your neck, the material pressed against your skin serving as a cold reminder of their ownership over you. The smug smirk that graces their lips, quirked up just a bit, rhythmically tugging at your leash whenever they please to show off the pretty little thing that they’ve got. Control. Power. That’s what they want, wish to have over you, willingly letting them do however they please, familiar sensation of their palm ruffling your hair, praising you for being so good.

So very good, especially behind closed doors. No one gets to see the way they lovingly press kisses to the tip of your cock head, pink tongue darting out to hungrily slobber all over your length, drool dripping over the base. Who would’ve known? How the so-called refined, well-mannered owner is at your feet instead, servicing you on their knees and needily sucking on your balls like a whore does. Faint string of saliva left on your tip as they finally part from your cock to claim their prize. Hot, shaky breaths ghosting over your shoulder, slender fingers, the same ones they used to clip that collar, invitingly spreading their slicked, wet hole apart for you to sink into. Wouldn’t want to keep their cute pet waiting for their well-earned reward, would they?

— “F-Fuck..! Just like that, mmmh— Keep going, pup..”

That same voice that coldly commands you, now turned into broken moans, desperately clawing at the muscles on your back in attempt to steady themselves as you rut into them like some rabid animal in heat, stuffing them full. Well, it wouldn’t exactly be far from the truth either, conditioning you to their every whim and touches left over your body, visible outline of your hardening cock underneath the fabric of your pants.

The smacking of your balls meeting their now stretched, wide open hole, grown puffy and sore from the slam of your hips and oh, how their velvety insides tighten around you, taking your fat cock so well. Reducing them to this blubbering mess, your beautiful owner, falling apart on your cock, just the brush of your tip hitting their sweet spot is enough to have them cumming and calling out your name like a slut. How depraved can one be? What would the others think of them? Hushed, discreet murmurs shared among each other, about the dignified master’s pornographic moans in the dead middle of the night, echoing and heard through the private chambers, caused by none other than you.

But fuck, as you lazily slip out of them at long last, feeling so very empty once more from the absence of your cock filling them up to the brim. Thick, white cum dripping between the length of their thighs, splattered across their pristine skin. Glazed over eyes gazing up to meet your own, hand reaching up to affectionately trace along your cheek.

Yes. That’s right, they think to themselves. Their perfect pet. So fucking perfect. They wouldn’t have it any other way.

remy, avery, briar, zhongli?, kamisato ayato?, geto suguru?, raiden shogun?, neuvillette?, your favorites, i suffer from amnesia as to who else there is on that list.

665 notes · View notes

sharp-fanged13 · 7 days

Text

What a wonderful occassion to remember this happened and is canon af:

227 notes · View notes

transformativeworks · 6 months

Note

I'm not sure if this is the place to ask. I am in a bit of a trouble as I wrote a 8k word chapter. I am wondering if this is just too long. Cutting it in half wouldn't be satisfactory, but doable. Would it be better to cut it or leave it that long? I might be able to cut some things from the story and come down to 7k. I need advice.

Hey Nonnie -

I am merely a tumblr mod, so this advice is coming from an avid fic reader and not the OTW hivemind (if there is one, I have not yet been invited to that groupchat)

Do what brings you joy. Writing fic is supposed to be fun. It is a labor of love that you send out into the void because your passion cannot be contained.

There is not a specific wordcount that makes a chapter Correct. I (personally) have never in my days noticed how long a chapter was, since I always click on Entire Work.

I probably would have sent a private reply, but instead we shall ask the tumblr community -

~ Mod Remi

#archive of our own #ao3 #fanfiction #fan fiction #writing #fandom #mod remi #are there writing conventions for different fandoms and chapter length?#i confess i have been in fandoms a long time and have never considered fic chapter length as a thing i should pay attention to

445 notes · View notes

enbysiriusblack · 1 month

Text

"Come on, Remus!"

"I hurt you."

James frowned at the large duvet lump on Remus' bed, "It doesn't matter."

The lump shook slightly, "Of course it matters, look at your face."

James glanced in the mirror across the room, "Dashingly handsome, I know."

"Not what I meant."

James stayed silent a momemt before sitting down gently at the end of the bed, "Have you ever done that before? Scarred someone?"

"Other than myself? No."

"I have."

The top of Remus' head peaked out from under the duvet, curiously staring at James.

"You've seen my dad", James shrugged, "That scar on his cheek? I did that. And there's a few more scattered on his body."

"How?"

James lifted his hand to his hair, pulling on a few strands, "I uh- I was a very unruly kid."

Remus snorted, "Course you were."

James grinned at him, "Yeah. I'd never just settle down, always had to be whizzing about. And my dad had to try keeping up with me- but y'know they're old, and I'd cause mum and dad a lot of pain trying to catch up. And one day, I was about six or seven, my dad was playing quidditch with me. And he was the keeper, so I was trying to get the quaffle pass him. And I got a bit too into the game. I saw an opening so I threw it, and I thought he was about to catch it, but I had put a bit more force behimd the throw and it came barrelling right into his face. He fell off his broom and passed out for about ten minutes, his right cheek was split right open, from the ear to the corner of his mouth. I didn't play quidditch again for years."

Remus stared at him, "But you did start playing again."

"Yeah", he nodded, "Dad was so upset I stopped because of it, but I just couldn't play afterwards. But then Marlene moved next door and Dad suggested I ask her round to play quidditch with me. Obviously I refused but then he said that the scar didn't matter. I may be the cause of it, but to him it's a lasting memory of a fun experience he had with his son, and between getting to play quidditch with me but having a scar or never having played quidditch with me but not getting a scar- he'd always choose spending time with me. And y'know I'd rather have this scar than not be with you on full moons."

"You realise that's a totally different situation, right? Like 80% of people get injured playing quidditch."

James laughed, "Well, yeah. But a scar is a scar, Moony."

"I ruined your face."

"Merlin, you think my face is ruined do you?"

"That's not what I meant!"

James grinned, "I think I'm rogueishly handsome and mysterious now, like you."

"You're much better looking, James."

"Oh, you big flirt! What should I say to people when they ask how I got it? Maybe I visited your pet rabbit and got the same treatment from the little rascal?"

Remus smiled, "Maybe just say a prank went wrong."

#I'm pretty sure I've wrote this exact situation before but-#love the idea of james getting a scar from remis during a full moon and remus freaking out about it #(and also fleamont having scars from james being a very active kid)#remus lupin #james potter #marauders era #marauders #remus & james #my writing

215 notes · View notes

rogue-gambit-fan-zine · 1 month

Text

PRE-ORDERS ARE OPEN!!!

That's right, y'all! The time has finally come! Home & Harbor, a fanzine dedicated to Rogue & Gambit, is now available for Pre-Order! There are 4 Tiers available as detailed below to fit anyone's budget, with all proceeds being donated to the Hero Initiative.

Follow this link to place your pre-order.

*Disclaimer: Final products may differ slightly from the mock-ups shown in each image*

High Card - Digital - $10.00

* Digital copy of Home & Harbor in PDF format (88 pages)

One Pair - Digital - $15.00

* A digital copy of the zine in PDF format

* A digital sketchbook in PDF format

* 2 phone backgrounds

* A digital shirt design to print out yourself or order custom apparel with

*An emoji pack of 20 designs

Full House - Digital/Physical - $25.00

* All digital items (zine + merch)

* A printed copy of the zine (88 pages, 8.5" x 5.5", perfect bound paperback, matte lamination cover)

Royal Flush - Physical Zine + All Merch - $47.00

* All digital items (zine + merch)

* A printed copy of the zine

* 2 postcard prints

* An A5 sticker sheet

* 2 round stickers (2 designs; 8 x 8cm)

* A roll of washi tape (1.5cm width; 5m length)

* A deck of playing cards (American poker size)

Production time is estimated to take between 6-8 weeks at the latest but you will be emailed when your order has been dispatched.

Speaking of shipping, if your region isn't listed at checkout, please email us at [email protected] for a quote.

And please don't hesitate to contact us if you have any questions!

120 notes · View notes

nonpracticinghumanbeing · 7 months

Text

So Izzy said a thing.

The thing seems to be a part of a redemption arc and makes him sound like a human rather than a monster.

The Canyon went wild with joy and jubilation. The haters are doing everything they can to rationalize the thing in a way that would fit their point of view. One of these things makes me feel like a part of a wonderful, welcoming, and very queer community. The other makes me perplexed, annoyed, and sad at the same time - in a way that feels very personal.

OFMD is an explicitly and unapologetically queer show. And not just that, it shows a variety of non-normative behaviors (Jackie’s polyamory, Geraldo’s humiliation kink, Lucius and Pete’s penchant for “having an audience” to say nothing of Izzy’s masochistic tendencies) in a completely non-judgmental way, making the viewer feel like all ways of performing one’s sexuality are valid.

Izzy wants to be a part of this world. For all his anger and manipulations, and (yes, let’s call him out for the sake of fairness) his abusive behaviors, he desperately wants to be a part of the world where he is free to love who he loves, in whatever way he is capable of doing so. No matter how much the haters don’t want to acknowledge it, this is ultimately a story about love. Both Con and Daddy Jenkins admitted Izzy is in love with Edward and the fact that the antis are willing to contradict not only the actor (who, may I remind you, was instrumental in shaping Izzy’s character) but also the showrunner is very symptomatic of the larger issue of how queer people have been treated in society.

No one in their right mind chose to become a pirate unless they had no other option. Piracy was fraught with constant danger and meant being an outsider everywhere. The only place one could be more or less safe was between people in the same lifestyle. In OFMD that is represented by the Republic of Pirates, where not being a pirate would get one in trouble. Sure, there is some violence but it comes with the territory and - much more importantly - it’s never motivated by someone being a pirate.

Izzy claims to hate the Republic - and for someone as repressed as him it makes sense. There are people being a different kind of a pirate than Izzy would like there - drunk, rowdy, and undisciplined. He clearly takes great pride in his work and has built his whole identity around being Blackbeard’s first mate. Seeing people be pirates while taking their responsibilities lightly doesn’t fit his worldview because he’s been taught that all of his energy should be spent protecting whatever freedom the pirates managed to carve out for themselves.

Someone once wrote that despite what the popular meme says, Izzy isn’t a real pirate dropped into The Muppet Treasure Island, but rather a hard boiled queer-coded character from a 50s noir movie dropped into today’s Pride. He’s had to keep vigilant against any threat for so long he hasn’t noticed that there was a way to be a pirate/queer and still enjoy one’s life. That one can like frilly robes and be a somewhat competent sea captain. That it is possible to pine for one’s boyfriend and keep one’s crew safe. That being soft doesn’t necessarily mean being weak.

He’s willing to do whatever it takes and sacrifice whatever has to be sacrificed (Stede’s life, Edward’s happiness, his own status of the loyal first mate) to keep his little pirate/queer world safe. It’s this conviction that puts him in the way of Ed and Stede’s relationship and makes him an antagonist. But - and it’s something the haters seem to be incapable of grasping - an antagonist doesn’t have to equal a villain.

Why does Izzy react so violently to Stede, exactly? Why is he willing to go against his captain's wishes in challenging Stede to a duel? Why does he sell Stede out, making a deal with the enemy in the process? Because Stede is a stranger infiltrating Izzy’s safe space. The English are a huge threat, sure, but they are easily identifiable from a distance. Stede seems to Izzy to be something far more dangerous - an outsider worming his way into the heart of Izzy’s world, where he can do truly irreparable damage. The English are cops who chase gay boys around the park. Stede has the potential of being an undercover cop sent into a queer bar in the 1930s to get the dirt on the patrons so they can be blackmailed and arrested.

Of course, he may not be that, but it’s a risk Izzy can’t allow himself to take. With his vision of what it means to be a pirate/queer he's sure he sees through Stede’s ruse. Now, I’m not trying to excuse abusive behavior, as some of Izzy’s choices were hurtful to everyone around him. But as a queer person I do have sympathy for someone (grossly) overreacting in defense of their safe space. Constant vigilance is an inherent part of the queer experience, especially for those living in conservative countries or remembering the times before the Pride.

Like, for example, Con does. Con, who - yes, I will repeat this because it’s super important here - played a huge part in shaping Izzy’s character. Con, who despite having a decades-long career where he often clearly gravitated towards queer characters, only got comfortable enough THIS YEAR (and thanks to this show and this fandom) to publicly come out. Con, who - as a friend wonderfully phrased it - is queer as in start a riot, not as in love wins.

And Izzy is the same. He is a start a riot pirate/queer in a show full of love wins pirates/queers. His way of being what he is is so totally different from everyone around him that it makes him an antagonist. (Sure, there are other start a riot queers in the show - Jim literally kills a man who wronged them and Lucius is very outspoken about his opinions in a way that makes him somewhat radical, but neither of them is as extreme in their ways as Izzy is and neither goes against the main characters’ romance thus becoming an antagonist.) But. The thing is, when you are a part of a minority, when you are being prosecuted and targeted for who you are, you need safe spaces. And those safe spaces need protection, because every freedom can be taken away if wrong people come to power. No doubt the queer movement would look much more tame and palatable to the bigots if we were all the love wins queers. But we desperately need the start a riot queers if we are to survive.

So yeah, you can say Izzy said what he said because he needs a structure and clear hierarchy in his life. He absolutely does. Some of it comes from his submissive and masochistic tendencies, sure (I wrote a lot about that, including a piece for the Above All Else zine). Some of it may come from neurodivergence (some people read Izzy as autistic, I’m not going to discuss this because as a neurotypical person I have nothing of value to say about it). But it also ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY comes from the desperate need to protect his safe space from outsiders.

And there is one more thing the haters conveniently forget about: OFMD is also a show about growth. It’s about Stede turning from a wooden puppet into a real boy and then into a man. It’s about Edward learning there is a life beyond the legend of Blackbeard and peeling off at least some of the leather. And judging from the trailer, it’s about Izzy learning you can be a start a riot pirate while being accepting of the love wins pirates in your life.

The more I think about it, the more likely I find it that Stede’s “I don’t care what anybody says, he’s actually a good guy” line from the teaser refers to Izzy. But even if it doesn’t, I am 100% sure the haters will be proven wrong. This show never relied on stereotypes and cliches. In fact, it actively does everything to break them (from Jim’s sacred quest for revenge ending up with them befriending Jackie to the only names that get mispronounced being those of white characters) while killing off the real enemies of the pirate/queer crew (Badmintons, Jack, Geraldo) and giving all its characters place to grow.

So, maybe one day we will all learn to love Izzy?

#ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means gay #izzy hands #ofmd meta #lol i got so pissed off at a really bad take on the line that i'm back to writing meta #thanks to remy for the start a riot / love wins thing!#i'm getting emotional again damn this show #queer representation

355 notes · View notes

ratwhowrites · 9 months

Text

Walk The Plank

@randowaffle, @burnt-pheonix

TW: Manipulation, Implied major character death

“Flynn- “ Dallas could barely get the word out as the cold metal tightened around his throat. He struggled to get a breath in as Flynn held onto him, her metal arm had the hero in a death grip, squeezing the life out of him. But he prayed to whatever gods were listening that she wouldn’t let go, as she dangled him above the pitch black water.

“Care for a swim, hero?” She chuckled. Dallas had giving up trying to pry her hand from his neck, instead saving his energy for the water that awaited him. He searched her face for some sort of recognition, hoping she would snap out of whatever spell Romero had her under, that her purple eyes would return to the same red as his. Flynn however, laughed at all of Dallas’s feeble attempts to bring her back. She enjoyed watching her brother beg for his life, after all, this was his fault.

“Come on Flynn… please don’t,” Dallas was racking his brain for a way to get through to her. He had an idea, though it was a long shot. “You- you wannabe Captain Hook.” He wheezed, taking up most of his remaining oxygen for that one sentence.

Flynn’s smile faltered, her eyes widened. The gears in her brain seemed to turn for a moment, pondering the familiar sounding nickname.

“What did you just call me?”

Dallas felt her grip loosen ever so slightly and took the opportunity to inhale as much as he could. He couldn’t help but smile. It actually worked!

“You don’t like that one? How about sweet tooth? That one ring a bell?” Dallas had regained a bit of his breath, thought his sentences came out with a slight wheeze. He remembered how annoyed Flynn would get when he used that nickname.

Flynn’s breathing meanwhile had grown heavier as memories started surfacing. She definitely recognized that nickname. The one her brother had given her…. Wait, her brother-

“Dallas?”

Flynn’s eyes were now their normal red, and Dallas nearly cried. His plan had worked. He let out a sigh of relief as she started to lower him back to the ground.

Panic and confusion set in as Flynn looked around, trying to figure out her surroundings, anything to remember what she was doing. Finally, her brain seemed to register the hand clamped around her twin’s throat, the ship they appeared to be standing on, and the dark water beneath them. The pieces clicked together and horror washed over her as she realized what she had almost done.

“What am I doing?”

Her voice came out as a whisper, the fear evident in her tone. She couldn’t recall what had led to this, in fact, she was having difficulty to recall much of anything. Why was she on a ship? Where was everyone else? Why did her brother look so afraid of her?

“Flynn, listen to me. Romero was controlling you! He- he tried to get you to kill me!” Flynn shook her head in disbelief, even more confused than before.

“What? No. No no he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.” She seemed to be convincing herself more than Dallas as she repeatedly mumbled that last phrase.

“Please you have to believe me! He’s lying to you!”

“No! Romero wouldn’t lie to me. He’s my friend!” Flynn felt ready to cry, everything was so confusing. It was overwhelming. She didn’t want to believe what he was saying. Romero wouldn’t… would he? Her doubt only doubled as Dallas insisted. Why would her friend make her kill someone? Especially her brother? It didn’t make sense to her. She just wanted to know what was happening. Who was telling the truth?

“Flynn is everything ok?”

The familiar voice make both twins freeze in place. Romero himself stood behind them, looking just as confused as Flynn was. Part of her felt relief. Maybe he could sort this all out but another part of her felt like she shouldn’t trust him, which was ridiculous. Why shouldn’t she trust her friend?

“Romero, thank god. Please tell me what’s going on!” Romero thought for a moment, taking note of her expression.

“You were doing a favor for me,” he said simply. Dallas took the opportunity to try again to remove her hand from his neck but found himself unsuccessful.

“B-but Dallas said you made me try to kill him.”

“That’s ridiculous! You really think I would do something like that?” She didn’t know. She wanted to believe him, but something didn’t feel right.

“I had asked you for a favor and Dallas I guess got in the way. I didn’t even know he was on the ship. You believe me right?” Romero sounded genuinely confused. He had to be telling the truth then. Flynn gave a half nod, ignoring that small part of her that doubted him.

“Yeah… yeah I believe you.”

Dallas shook head head, struggling once more. “No! He’s lying Flynn!! Let me go!” Romero smiled, putting Flynn at ease but causing Dallas’s heart to sink.

“You heard him Flynn. Let him go.”

As Flynn lowered her arm she heard a faint scream, and a splash.

#I told y'all Romero is smelly #romero astrophel #dallas curtis #flynn curtis #Remi's writing #Rat man's ocs #The Isles of Lazuli

5 notes · View notes

ratlingrun · 3 days

Text

I don’t care whether you like rooster teeth or not the idea of deleting 21 years of media should be incredibly concerning

#Remy writes #rooster teeth #if I wasn’t so so sleepy I would explain how it especially fucks over artists/editors/animators/etc #bc how are they going to showcase their work to potential employers if the work No Longer Exists #also They Will Do This To Your Fave

3K notes · View notes

originalartblog · 2 months

Text

Happy Valentine's day! 💖

(comic continues below) ⤵

Dazai proceeded to almost pass out while trying to tell Chuuya to take that thing off before it kills him.

Bonus 👀

#HOLD UP I FORGOT TO SAY THANK YOU TO REMI FOR CO-WRITING THIS #yeah you get the make up your own context and conclusion on this one have fun :)#suggestive #<- barely. that's not the point but the outfit is there.#cutesy pink frills and ribbons and ruffles are not chuuya's style. to say the least.#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanart #bsd chuuya #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #skk #soukoku #nawy's comics

2K notes · View notes

feral-ballad · 5 months

Text

Remi Kanazi, from Before the Next Bomb Drops: Rising Up from Brooklyn to Palestine; “Lit up”

[Text ID: “not enough space in a poem / to read all the names / of the dead”]

#remi kanazi #palestinian literature #occupation #genocide #death #ethnic cleansing #loss #excerpts #writings #literature #poetry #fragments #selections #words #quotes #poetry collection #typography

418 notes · View notes

ashersanity · 4 months

Note

I need more Yan Bailey content sir. And Briar... Remy... if you write for them...

Let's say PC is working in the brothel, So what type of yanderes are they? Will they even let anyone see PC in those skimpy outifts?

I wonder how contradictory it will be for Briar... (Bonus: Avery will probably go furios mode because it's dragging his reputation down?)

bailey deserves a post of their own, planning a part 2 for the shitty caretaker. Just for you @mellowwillowy. part 1 is here.

Cmon, you knew what you were doing when you requested for Remy.. Wait, no one knows that im a Remy enthusiast, do they? Fuck. Well, here I go then. - @princesstokyomoon :)

SHADY BASTARDS AS YANDERES

asher is on a roll.

content warning! dub-con/non-con, mostly non-con really, mentions of violence, murder, kidnapping, marking, anal play with a bottle?? if that’s even a thing, possessive and abusive behaviour, you know the drill already.

pc and the bastards are gender neutral as always unless explicitly stated otherwise.

Briar

“Pretty little thing you are, aren’t you? Come to my office, baby. Let’s get you all cleaned up for the show.”

yandere type : sadistic, possessive, manipulative

Somehow always has you sticking by their side whenever you’re not on stage, which they make sure to limit of quite a bit, not wanting their precious little thing wandering off without their watching eyes. It becomes increasingly clear to the other employees that you’re Briar’s favorite, whispering among each other, referring to you as the boss’s bitch, not that it’s all that far off. Oh? Bailey wants you back at the orphanage to pay your dues? Don’t worry, Briar will take care of that. They’d like to talk business with the caretaker anyway, namely about your price. Name it, they’re willing to pay anything for you.

Drastically increases the costs of your shows despite not wanting you to perform. You may be theirs completely, but Briar cannot abandon their principles over cash since money is money for the brothel owner after all. Wants everyone to know that you’re not just some cheap whore. No, you’re fucking Briar’s whore, the one they call in whenever they’re feeling bored, slender finger idly tapping against the cushioned arm of their couch, outstretched arm ready to take in you for another one of your daily sessions. Aren’t you obedient too? Wearing the preferred outfit that they like to see you in. What a doll.

Addicted to having you on their lap, comfortably seated on the brothel owner’s spread thighs, smooth hand resting on your hips while the other is holding a bottle of wine. Of course, considering how they’re a sadistic bastard, doesn’t only involves sweet nothings whispered into the shell of your ear or soothing rubs over your back. You’ll never forget that one time, how they pressed the rim of the bottle against your tight entrance, eyes going wide once you realize what they plan on doing. Smallest of smirks forming on Briar’s usually calm face, throughly enjoying the cute whines that come out of you as they thrust the neck of the glass bottle into your used hole, wine sloshing inside. A real treat that you are.

Never actually shares you. Sure, those bystanders admiring your dancing form as you perform on stage is still a thing though it doesn’t bother them the same way it does whenever a potential customer is reaching for their pockets, waving their wallet. Forbids you from going to them, instead, Briar, the one who usually never steps onto the platform, now joining on stage with you. Makes it clear to everyone that you’re theirs as their hands trail lower over your waist to your hips, lifting up the fabric of your skimpy leotard, giving the others a ‘quick’ peek of the marks they’ve left onto your skin.

There’s no need to know what happened to that one individual who got a feel of your behind on stage, shamelessly groping the soft flesh in the palm of their hand just as Briar is watching. Might’ve resulted in the other’s bodyguards accosting them right then and there, bringing them over to the basement where the real fun happens. Shove them in the hole with ease, ass sticking out for anyone to use as they please and Briar’s sick grin appearing on their lips as they call you over to them as usual. Better keep your lips sealed tight if you know the full story, missing body who has yet to be found, buried deep in the woods. Briar likes to be thorough in their punishments.

Remy

“Look at that, perfect for breeding and milking. Fuck, you’re going to be my fucking star.”

yandere type : obsessive, possessive, overprotective

Keeps you away from the other cattle in the farm, your own personal pen that Remy built just for you, there to satisfy your every single need. Obviously they couldn’t possibly let you be after that one incident, catching one of their workers’s pesky hands gliding over your precious body, seeing red. You, you poor thing, utterly ignorant as you snoozed away, deep in slumber. The farmer wasn’t having any of it, gave that fucker what they deserved, having cleaned themselves off of that distasteful encounter. No one entirely knows what ever truly happened that day and it’s better not to ask around. Remy will simply shut you up with more gifts, your dumb cow mind too foggy to remember much of it anyway.

Tattooed their name on your asscheek, forever imprinting themselves into your flesh. It was done the minute they saw you, a sort of hunger in their eyes, the need to own you, for everyone else to know it. Affectionately traces a gloved finger over their lettering of their name ‘Remy’s bull’ permanently etched on the reddened skin, giving it a playful slap. It comes in useful in certain situations, the other animals and humans knowing to keep away from you as they get a glimpse of your tattoo, not wanting to face the farmer’s wrath by the risk of touching you.

Absolutely does not want you breeding with another cattle. Yeah, they do sort of feel bad when they isolated you in their barn, left with stacks of hay, a warm blanket over your frame and plenty of other supplies to keep you entertained, but it was for the best. Knowing every creature eventually goes into heat one day and so did you, caught you uselessly humping at one of the cows, mounting them even! If it weren’t for Remy that immediately stopped it, who knows what would’ve happen?? They know.. Yes, they know that you’re suffering from being deprived like this and so they’re happy to help, letting you get a feel of what real breeding is like at night, as they return from a long day of working on the fields.

Favours you, giving you special treatment and well, the entire farm is aware of it. Muttering about how you’re the only one who actually gets Remy to smile, their usual stern face and their lips who are meant to be pressed in a straight-line now curling up at the sight of you. Everyone shooting each other weird looks as you nuzzle against the farmer’s hand, demanding for attention and they don’t push you away. Just what the hell kind of trickery is this?? Turning the owner of the underground farm into mush, Wren constantly teasing the other about it, but they just scoff and play it off. As if you don’t have them wrapped around your finger, stupid cow.

Cherishes every single drop of milk that you produce, wherever it’s made from, your genitals or chest. Either way, they’re squeezing it all out of you, making extra sure not to waste a droplet of it as it drips down in the numerous cylinders. Such a prodigy too, milking the copious amount, thick consistency on the verge of spilling out from the plastic containers. You don’t know it though, how Remy succumbs to temptation, mouth watering from your organic milk, pink tongue dipping down to get a taste of it. How fucking sweet it is, they’ve never tasted anything like it, swallowing it all in one go. Actually never puts your products on the market since all of it is sloppily consumed by Remy, greedily lapping across their upper lip.

Avery

“There you are, darling. Looking sweet as ever. Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are? My prize.”

yandere type : self-indulgent, impulsive, controlling

Is in charge of everything that you wear, make it known to the town that you’re Avery’s first and foremost, gifted clothes or lacy chokers to place around your neck, the one they like to admire with a well manicured finger. Your closet now consisting solely of the expensive items that they’ve bought for you, stuffed away in the tight confines of the narrow space. It’s better to wear the suit or dress that the businessperson got for you, for they always know when you don’t, frown appearing on their face whenever they see you walk to school with that annoying orphan. What’s their goddamn name, Rowin? Robin?? God, they don’t care, pulling up next to you with their limousine, tinted window rolling down to greet you with a serene smile, completely ignoring the other standing next to you. They’re not worth your attention, you are.

Is the one to pick you up everywhere and they mean, everywhere. School ends, approaching the school gates and luckily not encountering Whitney in the process, met with Avery waiting in their car, telling you to get in. If they can’t manage a car, let’s say, for example because they’re away from town, coming to pick you up instead in a helicopter, ignoring the awed looks that attracts from others. If their rage is low, which you better hope it is, they’re giving you the full prince/princess treatment, treating you like deity even. Whatever you want, they’re here to provide. Oh, you want this new bag that everyone else has at school? They’re already sifting through their thick wallet, handing you the green notes with a pleased smirk. Buy it, doll. It’s their treat.

Would never let you work at the brothel, not on their watch. Are you crazy? It’s not entirely a lie as one would say, that Avery does hire a few whores on certain nights, crumpled bills stashed away in their pockets. Not with you though. You’re different, special, even if they never openly say it. They’ve never been ready to admit but the idea of you going there every Friday night, sleazy hands trailing over your naked body, no their body. The thought makes Avery grind their teeth, sick at the mere suggestion of you even possibly working there. Why would you? They’ll give you everything you need, pay twice, three times, ten fucking times more than Briar could ever share with you. Out of pettiness however, they do bring you over, in front of Briar’s own watchful eyes, possessive hands placed onto your hips. Loves glancing over to catch the brothel owner’s scowling face, watching on as you grind on the businessperson’s crotch.

Traps you in their manor, turning you into their little, obedient maid that’ll follow their every word and order, the one to come to them at a snap of their fingers. A servant needs to look presentable too, don’t you think? Forcing you into some fetishy maid outfit, silky, feminine lingerie regardless of gender, barely hiding the flushed skin beneath. Skirt is so short that you have to remind yourself to pull at the hem, fabric riding up your plush thighs and exposing your bare flesh to Avery’s hungry eyes. They’ll be such a bitch about it too, crotchless panties, putting your hole on display for them to leer at whenever you bend down to pick something up or are busy dusting a corner that’s particular hard to reach. Earns you a smack to the ass, Avery whistling to themselves as they walk off with your shocked, humiliated gaze on them.

Marks you in a.. different manner than the others, more sophisticated they’d call it? It’s subtle at first, hickeys and bite marks left on your collarbone, shoulder blades, inner thighs, places that usually wouldn’t be visible to other people, not unless you’re wearing something revealing which they don’t allow in public. Escalates to your neck, wrists, maybe corner of your lips, your huffed complaints bringing a smirk to their face, claiming that you’ll be forced to wear a turtleneck from now on to hide the evidence of those traces left behind. Why hide it though? It’s there to be flaunted, meant for the town to know, darling. Won’t take it kindly if you ever do try to worm your way out of it, theirs to own, their precious doll. Makes it official once they tuck the leather collar around your neck, tightening it with a click. Look at you, so pretty. Avery’s prized blue ribbon bitch.

Masterlist

[END OF POST]

582 notes · View notes