#rufio is my comfort character
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My dreams in a nutshell (be like):
#hook 1991#peter pan#ouat#rufio is my comfort character#haha fml#shitpost#nutshell#dreams#i love how he saves me all the time#like seriously#he is my hero#this is why i try to dream one more time#I just wanna be in Neverland for the plot#the plot:#memes#rufio memes#rufio#pirates#lost boys#teenage dirtbag#this is based on a true story#based on a dream#yes
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About me:
Just call me by my username I don't like using real names anymore
(bisexual transsexual male & 2 yrs on T)
I write novels, short stories, and fanfiction
I draw novel illustrations and favorite characters
I'm autistic and therefore can be perceived a little bit strange
My dominant special interest fandom wise is Peter Pan stories. (Hook is my absolute favourite Peter Pan movie. You'll mostly see me talking about the character Rufio)
I liked OUAT Peter Pan for a little while last year but it's not my thing anymore
My other special interest is historical (mostly 19th century) fashion
A quick heads up:
I enjoy NSFW art, but I don't post any. There might be some reblogging of that here occasionally.
A lot of the fanfictions I post are openly based off- have some sort of connection to my somewhat disturbing fetishes that involve characters dying or being hurt
I know some might not be comfortable with that.
If you'd like to be my friend please just skim through the readmore just in case you find my opinions distasteful. If you do, just block me I don't want trouble
My Internet Discourse Opinions
Stupid but very important in order to avoid ugly confrontations nowadays 🙁
"Proshipping"
-the good pure holy shipping vs. icky yucky nasty evil creepy freak shipping stuff is bullshit. If you give me/a mutual shit over FICTIONAL ship your ass is getting blocked cause that's just a whole nother level of ridiculous. I do not condone the bullying and harassment that is so common in 'woke' fandom culture nowadays. It is disgusting that people are throwing around paraphilic accusations and words like p**o at innocent fanfiction authors who are just enjoying characters with no real malicious intentions.
I come across ships on ao3 that absolutely disgust me on a day to day basis, even so, the last thing I'd want to do is be mean to the author/anyone who enjoyed that ship. That's because the author has just as much a right to write about just as I have the right to be uncomfortable. No character ship is illegal and people are allowed to be as gross or weird as they like as long as it remains fictional (which in 99.99% of cases no one is actively trying to encourage and/or normalising pairing that would be illegal irl) That's never how fandom, art, or fiction has ever worked. If you think otherwise, all I'm saying is you have some serious issues and you need help.
When I write an age gap pairing I don't parade my fic around going "EVERYBODY START DATING YOUR FATHER!!" I tag with many warnings to avoid upsetting people who would be opposed to reading it + add a disclaimer explaining how I do not support such things in real life situations because I don't and neither does anyone else who ships 'problematic' things.
Transgender discourse (neopronouns, etc)
As a transgender male myself, I don't care what pronouns someone uses or what gender they claim to be. I am pro-block anti-harassment when I see someone I disagree with.
However, I do block quite liberally when I see people saying that transgenderism is possible without dysphoria. Because it is not. Being trans is not a choice. Dysphoria is the cause of being trans. Even if it's just a tiny bit of dysphoria you are still valid. If you're a feminine presenting trans male, that is fine, if you're a masculine presenting trans female, that's fine too because even if you're trans you absolutely do not have to abide by society's confining gender stereotypes.
But, if you are feminine presenting non-dysphoric afab going by he/him or a masculine presenting non-dysphoric amab going by she/her. That is not transgender. You just picked different pronouns. Which again, I don't care about the pronouns thing so whatever, but just please don't call that transgender because my brother in Christ, we are not the same.
Therefore please leave me alone if:
You have some sort of weirdly obsessive morality/legality bias against people minding their own business with character shipping in fandom
OR
Think that being trans is a choice.
Thats all, have a nice day. Don't forget to block if you don't like me lol.
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THE WASTELAND - HOME (15/15)
Some triggers: this story is rated TEEN, mostly for violence. It takes place during wartime, and some of the characters go through some violence and torture. If you need more information about this, please just message me!
SUMMARY: In a world that has been saturated in war for as long as anyone can remember, Emma Swan has rebuilt her life as far away from the chaos as possible, opening her own maternity hospital after spending too many years in makeshift battlefield aid stations. But one night, a bloodied and battered soldier finds her hospital trying to get away from an enemy with a penchant for torture and a personal vendetta against him. With the help of Emma’s childhood friend Prince David and a motley collection of humans and magic-wielders, the quest to save Killian Jones’ life from the poison used by the enemy takes them to places even beyond the known world.
A/N: Can you believe it? This story is COMPLETE, which feels surreal and ethereal in unexplainable ways. I've literally been writing this story longer than it took me to write my masters' thesis -- though, needing to write my masters' thesis is most of the reason it has taken me this long. Thank you all for sticking around through it all, if you've been here since the beginning -- and if you've hopped on somewhere along the way, you're just as important to me. Thank you, all. Enjoy the last chapter.
Start from the Beginning // Also on AO3!
For a long, drawn-out moment, nothing happens. Emma can feel the beating of her heart in her stomach and fears that something has gone wrong, attempting to use her unhoned magic for too big a task too quickly.
And then, she feels her feet shift on uneven ground and she dares to open her eyes.
Sand.
They're on the shore. Everyone is on the shore, Belle still tending to Will's wounded shoulder and Mary Margaret comforting David, his pain obvious on his face. Killian releases her hand, rushing to the prince's side with his canteen at the ready. The water doesn't heal David as quickly as it did Killian, but as he swallows the few sips he was given, his expression grows relieved and the tendrils of poison retract across his exposed chest before disappearing from the site of the wound. It's not nearly as climactic as Killian's healing was (Emma refuses to think about why that might be) but she still feels a weight lifted from her chest as all traces of the poison disappear, leaving only a small cut on his side where the arrow nicked him.
Killian and Mary Margaret simultaneously sigh an audible breath of relief, her petite form almost comically small as she leans into Killian's shoulder.
"Let's get off this bloody island," Killian says, allowing only a moment's pause before he helps Dave to his feet — though his words are practically forgotten as the forest begins to groan and grumble, trees snapping, cracking, falling to the ground behind them.
And they watch as four, five, six boys move through the treeline, all dressed in rags and covered in dirt.
"The Lost Boys!" Wendy cries, rushing towards them.
"Please take us home with you, Wendy," the one who looks to be the oldest begs, terror obvious on his face, as on all of their faces.
She turns to look at David. "Without Pan's magic, the island will disappear, and the boys will die."
David shakes his head. "I have no argument."
"What about what Pan told your brothers? That only the amount who arrived can leave?" Regina's voice is heavy with worry. None of them want to leave the boys behind, but if it means that no one will make it home, it's a much heavier question.
But Belle is the one to answer. "With Pan defeated, the island holds no power. Even if it wanted to stop us from leaving, it is no longer able."
The oldest boy knits his eyebrows. "Does that mean—" he starts, but is silenced by a deafening thump as another large tree hits the ground, this one not far from the shore and sending a tremor under their feet.
"Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger," Killian says with a smile, gesturing for the boys to lead the way to the waterline and aboard the ship.
"Rufio, where's Felix?" Wendy asks, walking beside the oldest of the boys.
But the boy shakes his head. "He's always been the most dedicated to Pan and here longer than the rest of us, you know that. He said he would rather die here with Neverland than become a traitor."
"Oh, Felix," she breathes, but it does not keep her or the other boys from boarding.
As the rest of them move towards the ship, Emma moves to stand beside Killian, who is waiting to go last as the captain does. He pats Robin on the shoulder, the pain of losing Graham sinking in once more as his body is carried onto the ship. “Take him below decks. Merlin can show you where to find what you’ll need to wrap him.” Robin just nods.
"We did it, Swan," he breathes, reaching down to squeeze her hand. "How do you feel?"
"It's almost surreal," she replies, lifting his hand so she can look at his arm. She still barely believes it, would not have believed the way the water healed him if she hadn't seen it herself — and she still had trouble understanding how easily he was healed by her magic, even after learning of their connection, their destiny.
She still doesn't want to believe it, really. Everyone is so sure that it's about them, that they were prophesied ages ago to go on this journey, to save each other. She's not denying their connection, not anymore, but she still struggles to believe that they were destined to be together because some ancient seer decided it was supposed to be so.
"Let's go home," he says finally, gesturing for Emma to follow Robin and Regina onto the Jolly Roger.
Home. He's not even sure where home is anymore. For years, it was in the Northern Mountains, then with Dave and his band of followers after returning from Neverland. He's been ready for a new home for a while, he realizes, following Emma onto his ship. With her, he hopes. Hell, he's never wanted anything as much as he has wanted to be with her. They're destined to be together, but all he wants to do is kiss her, find all the things that make her happy and never stop giving them to her. He wants to wake up beside her, learn the way her golden waves look in the morning sun, the way she takes her coffee. If it means working beside her in the hospital, doing everything he can to help her while hopefully keeping them from harm — hell, he'll work in a maternity hospital. For her. He would do anything for her.
They leave the island behind quickly, the Lost Boys, Wendy, and a fully-healed Will watching it crumble, leaving behind nothing but a pile of ash and a cloud of dirt that covers the horizon.
Killian doesn't turn back. Some of the others peer over their shoulders but Killian seems to be the only one fully content leaving the island behind without a second thought — but, then again, he is the only one among them to have experienced it twice, to have it take multiple people he loves from him, even if it brought others together.
He thinks of Graham, being prepared belowdecks for burial at sea once they're out of the wretched Neverland waters; he thinks of Milah, who sacrificed so much, who hid her true identity from a world she felt so unsafe in, gone forever in the pile of rubble and debris.
Liam. He thinks of his brother, releasing the helm to feel the large ring hanging from his neck between his fingers. He left Liam behind in Neverland twice, never able to give him the burial at sea he always wanted. Well, he thinks, turning his head to glance behind him, if the entire island crumbles into the sea, then Liam is finally laid to rest as he would have wanted.
"I was wondering if you were ever going to look back," Merlin says from the spot he has found against the railing, only using the basest of his powers to move the ship along the waters until they take to the sky.
"I wasn't going to," he confesses, looking down at the ring once more. "But then I thought of Liam, and the burial at sea he deserved and never got."
"Well, the whole damned island got a burial at sea, and that sure as hell included him."
Killian nods, managing a smile. "That's what I thought, too."
They travel along the water for a few hours, pausing around dusk to bid their final farewells to Graham before taking to the sky. The sun sinks below the horizon, and Killian turns to the same star charts they used on the journey there to guide them home, though this time Emma takes part in all of it: helping Merlin and Belle fly the ship, learning the stars that they use to guide them back to the Northern Mountains. He has always felt at peace behind the helm of this ship, even when it was his brother's; having Emma beside him, his chest pressed against her back as he points over her shoulder towards the stars, is the most at home he has ever felt, and he wishes — on the stars that guide them home, on any good luck charm he has ever known, praying to the gods who have seemed to answer him a lot lately — that it's not a feeling that disappears.
The journey back isn’t as celebratory as expected from a group of people who have evaded what they all believed would be certain death. David and Mary Margaret spend most of the trip in the lieutenant’s quarters, Mary Margaret finding the sleep that evaded her the last few days, the two of them taking turns caring for the other. Merlin and Belle spend the return trip just as they did the journey there, guiding the ship through the air, though when Emma is feeling at her strongest, she attempts to assist them. (The rest of the crew does not fail to notice how Will spends much of his time sitting against the railing near wherever Belle has stationed herself, eating what seems to be a never ending supply of apples and chocolate and other types of random snacks and reading the books spread across his lap, even though he was never known to be a voracious reader before.) Similarly, after being comforted by her after Graham’s burial, Robin and Regina spend most of their time together, a pairing of sensible pantsuits and olive green attire that none of them saw coming.
Wendy and the Lost Boys spend most of their time gaping at the views over the railing, trying their hardest not to get airsick to avoid ridicule, filling their stomachs with each of Merlin and Belle’s smorgasbords as if they have never seen that much food in their life — Killian doesn’t let himself think about how long they may have been in Neverland, just how long it has been since their last decent meal, and he is happy to be the one to offer it to them.
"What are we going to do with them?" Mary Margaret asks Emma one night as she sits with her on the deck, picking at the half-eaten sandwich on the plate in her lap.
"With who?"
She points to the boys, throwing small rocks and food scraps off the deck of the ship and laughing as they disappear into the clouds below them.
"I guess we're going to—" she starts, but then realizes that she has no idea how to finish the sentence and leans closer to her friend. "What are we going to do with them?"
It's a thought that never even crossed her mind. She's been so worried about returning to the life she had, possibly even learning to include Killian in the chaos of running the hospital, that she never stopped to think about the people whose lives have been upended because of their trip. Who knows how long the boys have been stuck on Neverland, how long it has been since they were taken from their families — if they ever had them in the first place. Emma remembers the long nights on the streets of the Gale when she wished she were anywhere else,praying to whichever of the gods was listening to give her a place to belong. That's what Pan did for these boys in his own wretched way, she realizes.
“Who knows how long they were stuck on that island. I doubt many of them have thought about what they would do if they ever returned.”
But Emma shakes her head, remembering the nights she stared up at the stars and wondered what her life could be like if she were in any other situation. “I can assure you that some of them have thought about it.” She doesn’t mean for her voice to be that soft, to make the hurt so apparent in her words. She tries not to play the orphan card, especially around Mary Margaret, whose empathy is so strong Emma sometimes thinks she fully understands the heartbreak she tries her hardest to hide even though she only recently lost her father and sees her mother as often as her and David’s schedule allows.
Mary Margaret just nods, taking a bite of her sandwich. “I suppose we could start by talking to them.”
Emma can’t help but laugh, thinking of how she would have responded in their place — which, she supposes, is exactly what David did, granting her a new life in the infirmary. She wonders if any of them have discovered their powers, or if they would simply hide, dormant, for the years they spend without aging in Neverland. “We should wait until morning, though,” she comments, watching as one of the younger boys lets out a big yawn across the deck. When she turns back to Mary Margaret, she is stifling a yawn of her own. “Looks like it’s your bedtime, too,” she adds with a soft laugh.
“I’m just so tired all the time. Is this all that pregnancy is?”
“I have no firsthand experience to share, but from what I’ve heard, yeah, that’s a big part of it.”
“Someday, Emma,” Mary Margaret comments, and it’s a thought that hits her like a truck. Sure, she’s spent years in the maternity hospital, helping other women bring babies into this world, but having one of her own was never a thought that crossed her mind. Is that what she wants? Could she even bring a child into a world so full of violence and terror and the exact things they’ve been battling for the last few weeks, not to mention the War that has affected every facet of the world for longer than anyone can remember.
It’s at least not a thought that she needs to focus on right now.
“Hey, love,” Killian says, thankfully pulling her out of the depths of her own mind as he approaches them from across the deck. “We’re going to begin the descent back to the water soon. Just wanted to let you know.”
“Thanks, Killian,” she replies, offering him a soft smile, which he answers with a soft kiss to her cheek.
“I’m going to bed, then,” Mary Margaret says, one hand on her stomach as she reaches out to squeeze Emma’s hand with the other, then moves across the deck to the stairs.
“I can’t wait to be on the water again,” Killian says after a moment of silence, leaning back against the railing, and she steps into his arms.
“Why is that?”
“There’s just something calming about it, something that’s not there in the sky or even on the land. The moment the hull hits the water, I just feel… peace.” She hums, resting her forehead against his shoulder. “It’s not just the ocean, either, though. Graham always laughed at me when I would go stand in the rain, or sometimes stay in the shower for longer than I meant to.”
Emma leans back to look up at him, gears turning in her head. Rain. Showers. The ocean. The way his body reacted to the pool on Dead Man’s Peak. Water. “Killian,” she whispers, then cups her hand between them, creating a small pool of water in her palm. “Can you… move this?”
He looks first at her, then at her hands, his dark brows furrowed low on his forehead. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, love.”
“Was your mother one of the merfolk?”
This makes his eyebrows jump towards his hairline, bright eyes wide. “Pardon?”
“Your mother,” she repeats. “I know she passed when you were young, but what do you know about her? Was she a mermaid?”
“No. No, that’s… that’s crazy,” he whispers, staring down at the water in her palm, slowly dripping through her fingers onto the deck between his worn boots.
“Can you just try? For me?” Remembering how her magic reacted to his touch, she reaches her free hand out and rests it on his hip.
He nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “What do I need to do?”
“Think about what you want it to do. Close your eyes. Feel it.”
“What do I want it to do?”
With a soft chuckle, she turns her eyes up to his, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. Just… anything.”
He nods, but stays silent, holding up his hand in the space between them as he squeezes his eyes shut. Somehow, Emma can feel what he’s thinking, imagines the small sphere of water rising above her hand before it happens — but then it’s there, right before her eyes, hovering above her palm.
"Bloody hell," he mumbles, his eyes darting to meet hers for a moment instead of staring at the sphere. "And you're… this isn't you?"
"No," she whispers, picturing it falling back to her hand just to make sure — but it stays there, hovering a few inches above her palm.
“Of the merfolk,” he whispers, the sphere splashing back down into Emma’s hands. “I never even imagined.”
“I’ve known for a very long time,” Merlin quips from behind them, his eyes closed but obviously paying attention to them.
“For real? And you never thought to tell me?”
He shrugs. “It was not my secret to share.”
“Why did I not learn about it sooner?”
Emma gasps, pulling Killian’s gaze back to her, and Merlin laughs, finally opening his eyes. “So you figured it out, then?”
“The Prophecy,” she whispers, barely believing the words as she says them. “Their strengths will finally be revealed. That’s the line, right?”
Merlin nods.
“Not just my strength, but both of ours. He needed… me. Us.”
It’s another piece of the puzzle that fits a little too well, that makes it hard to deny that they are the ones from the prophecy, brought together by destiny. A chill runs down her spine as Killian’s jaw drops, realizing exactly what her words meant.
“Bloody hell,” he mumbles. “I need… sorry, love,” he mumbles, backing away from her to go and stand by himself, looking out over the moonlit water as the ship makes its descent.
Emma’s heart drops and she crosses her arms, leaning back until her hips hit the railing behind her. Is it too much for him, now? The man that confessed his love for her in a cave, who has believed in their connection since the first he heard of it? She understands needing space — she would be a hypocrite if she claimed she didn’t — but she still feels a heaviness in her chest, and icy pain in her heart as she thinks of the worst-case scenario: Killian turning away from her just as she realizes she is ready to be with him. When she feels her lip quiver, she pulls it up between her teeth, turning her back to where Killian is standing and taking a few steps away from him. Part of her wants to disappear belowdecks, curl up in her hammock and hide from her feelings, as alone as she has ever been. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tries to take herself somewhere else: counting the supplies in the basement of her hospital, walking along the well-known trails by her house — the very house that she dreamt of sharing with Killian not too long ago. She shakes that thought away and tries again, this time in the palace gardens where she learned most of what she knows about plants, about healing. Then she’s in the hallway, aiding David in a meeting with his advisors, focusing on the echoing of her boots on the stone floors and not the fears running through her mind.
Across the deck, Killian turns to look at her, trying to organize the thoughts jumbled in his brain. A merfolk. He has learned so much over the last few weeks, about the world, his friends, his enemies — himself, more than anything else. He has tasted death and felt true grief, witnessed unexplainable things, traveled to places he has spent more than a decade trying to forget. Every step was harder than the previous, pushing himself harder and farther than he thought he was capable — and for every step, she has been there, healing him inside and out, stitching together his wounds and piecing together the remains of his broken heart. Why is this so difficult for him to grasp, given all of the other impossible things he has witnessed since Emma Swan entered his life? Water has always calmed him, healed him, given him a sanctuary in times when he had no others, the same way Emma became his sanctuary.
He loves her, he realizes, not for the first time, though the thought still threatens to knock him off his feet. He loves her in ways he never knew were possible, more than he ever imagined being able to love someone, loves her in a way that fills the deepest parts of him, dark spaces that hold his regrets and his fears and the few things he has allowed himself to dream about. And there is nothing, no feeling that can compare to the warmth that washes over him when she holds his hand, when she smiles at him. His mind separated the two, his powers and his love for Emma, but he realizes now, in this moment, turning away from the water to find her, that they are not two separate things. His powers only exist because of his love for her, and though the time they have spent together is only the first drop in the ocean of the rest of their lives, he wants to look back on his life overwhelmed by the memories they create together, better because of the other.
Then, he notices the pain on her face, her eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip pulled between her teeth, and her arms wrapped around her knees as she sits alone by the railing — alone, exactly where he left her. He crosses quickly, his footsteps hard against the wooden planks, and kneels in front of her, carefully reaching out to brush his fingers against her hand.
“Emma?” he whispers, but it is not loud enough to break through the wall that has formed around her, protecting her from whatever kind of hurt she feared he was leaving her with. Leaving her, he realizes. That’s what she fears, more than anything else. Is that what she thinks he is doing? “Emma, love, I’m sorry.” This time, his voice is a bit louder, his fingers a bit firmer on her hand, and her eyes open, a runaway tear falling down her cheek.
“What?” She raises her hand to wipe her cheek, but Killian beats her to it.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, covering her hand with his once more. “I shouldn’t have — walking away from you like that, it was unfair. I don’t want you to think…” he clears his throat, trying his best to smile at her through his stuttering before starting again. “I’m here, love. With you. That’s not going to change.”
“Promise?” she whispers, unable to control the quivering of her lip, and he learns more about her with that single word than the rest of their journey. The both have dark pasts, Emma’s even more than his own, and the traumas that they have endured have left pieces of them broken, pieces that may never be fixed, but pieces that perhaps can be soothed, especially when the darkness rears its head.
None of the words that come to mind are good enough. He nods. Laughs, thankfully answered with a smile of her own. And then leans into her, holding himself up against the railing to keep from crashing into her as he finds her lips with his own. It’s the best promise he can give her, and when she reaches up and slides her fingers through his hair, her other hand tightening around the collar of his jacket, he can’t help but laugh against her lips, mumbling the words that have been waiting on the tip of his tongue for the right moment.
“I love you, Emma,” he says, and she resituates them so they are laying beside each other on the deck, pulling herself into him in ways his previous wounds never would have allowed.
“I love you,” she repeats with a giggle of her own, her lips finding his again as the ship touches down on the water, lurching against the surface.
They’re back. The real world — Nephylisis, the Gale, the War. The Wasteland. But they have each other.
Anything is possible.
TAGS: @shireness-says @cssns @kmomof4 @thisonesatellite @teamhook @darkcolinodonorgasm @cocohook38 @ultraluckycatnd @facesiousbutton82 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @tiganasummertree @angellifedeath @pepperpottss @mariakov81 @scientificapricot @kday426 @xarandomdreamx @ohmightydevviepuu @xhookswenchx @nikkiemms @carpedzem @superchocovian @resident-of-storybrooke @snowbellewells @courtorderedcake @captain-emmajones @killian-whump @officerrogers @killianjonesownsmyheart1 @captainkillianswanjones – want to be added or removed? let me know!
#the wasteland#my writing#wordsbymeganmichael#cssns#cssns 2020#my fic#captain swan#cs ff#cs fic#ouat ff#fantasy au#if you made it this far and found yourself in the tags please know there is a secret epilogue#but i'm not changing the chapter count#its already written in my head it just needs to come out
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24 for the ask thing!
24- do you have any pets?
- i do! i have three cats ☺️ well technically only one of them is mine lol. my brother and his fiancé each have a cat as well but when they moved out recently, they wanted to keep the cats in the home they’ve known and didn’t want to make them have to adjust to a new home. (more about the cats down below 😅 and i’m sorry i wrote so much!)
but mine and my brother’s cats are brother and sister. we got them when they were 8 weeks old and they’re 15 now 🥺 my cat’s name is baby (very original, i know lol. i’m my defense i was 12 and when we saw her she was in the little hammock in the corner of the cage and it made me think of the movie dirty dancing and i was obsessed with that movie and my thought was “nobody puts baby in the corner” and idk it felt right to me so i named her baby 😅) but yeah, she lives up to her name. not necessarily like the character from the movie lol. but she is a baby 😄 she’s my baby 🥰 she’s always in my room, she feels the most comfortable with me, if she’s not in my room, she whines and nudges my door until i let her in. and she’s like the actual definition of a scaredy cat. 😂 she jumps at the tiniest things and runs and sh’s just always super anxious 😅 but she’s one of the sweets bbys you’ll ever meet if and when she feels comfortable with you! she’s very lovey and loves to snuggle 🥰
my brother’s cat (baby’s brother) is named figaro. my brother loved pinocchio so much as a kid and loved geppetto’s cat in the movie and the cat’s name is figaro. and when he saw him, he said he looked so much like figaro in the movie and that’s what his name was gonna be 😅 and it’s appropriate because like figaro in the movie, he was a very feisty but loving little guy! now because he is 15, he acts like a old man lol. but he’s still very sweet 🥺 i love him so much 🖤
and then my brother’s fiancé’s cat is 7 years old and (he’s orange and white) she actually rescued him when he was about maybe a month old. he was outside of this house where she was nannying at and he was all by himself. he was most likely the runt of the litter and was left behind. so she brought him home and we tried to find him a home and didn’t want to take him to a shelter, but we weren’t able to find anyone to take him so we kept him. and i’m so glad we did cause he’s one of the goofiest cats and he’s my buddy lol. and his name is rufio! like from the movie hook! i actually came up with his name ☺️ we were trying to figure out what to name him when we decided to keep him and i was trying to think of movies or shows my brother loved. and hook is one of his favorite movies and he’s always loved peter pan. so i suggested the name rufio and he said “aww yeah! that’s perfect! cause he’s my little lost boy!” and he’s also feisty and sweet and funny and idk i just love him so much! he’s my buddy and i’m so glad he’s apart of our family 😊
here are some old pictures of them 😅😊 (these pictures are maybe like 3 or 4 years old lol)
this is baby (my cat) -
this is figaro (my brother’s cat and baby’s brother 😅) -
and this is rufio (my brother’s fiancé’s cat) -
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HELLO! Welcome to my roblox blog! My name is Windmage, or I’m also known as Wind, Aristris or Alase. Other nicknames are Windy, Windery, Winderz, Trissy or Aliyas! Yeah, I identify myself as Aristris from SPR, so I do LOVE it when I’m called Aristris :3. I am a trans male, so I like he/him!
I am a supporter for all races, religon, sexualities, genders and all such! Pedophiles, nazi stuff, nsfw and such, not at all. I post a lot of stuff here, like art, concepts, prompts and such. Sometimes I post really random stuff in general! For my art posts, I prefer reblogs over likes, as it helps spread my blog out more, while likes just add another note to the post. I do accept requests, which my inbox is always open for, including my submissions. However, if you ever submit anything in my submission, PLEASE TELL ME IN MY ASKBOX OR DM ME ABOUT IT! Tumblr mobile doesn’t notify me when I have a submission, so it’d be nice to be told if anything is sent to me.
Majority of my posts have tags. My main tag is “#windy posts”. “#windy draws” is my drawing tag. “#windy rambles” is basically everything else. I also have “#windy dumb post” for any shits and gig posts I make. I also tag #gore, #blood, #body talk, #homophobia etc. If you require anything tagged, please tell me in my askbox. Anonymous or not, I’d prefer you telling me rather than me making you uncomfortable.
Some things I do NOT accept on this blog are pedophilia, incest, nsfw, any relation to body talk, lgbt+phobia, anti-religion, sexism, racism, anti-kinning, beliefs in cringe culture etc. Please refrain from sending me anything related to these, including negatives of my comfort characters.
My comfort characters are: Ploque/Trussey(AF), Cyalm/Claud(AF), Tucker Trillion(SPR), Rozanda(SPR), Lanter(SPR), Octave(PR), Fraud(IF), Stoic(IF) and pretty much all the characters from Uuhhh.wav excluding Kenin, Spoder and Stella...
My kins are: Arrolin/Laoin(AF), Ulipse/Umbra(AF), Sphara(SPR), Aaron(SPR), Stan(IF) and like I said in the first paragraph, I identify myself as Aristris from SPR. My syns are: Yawgate(AF), Signol/Evon(AF), Medibus(AF) and Antagmom(SPR).
My top two comfort ships are Clautris(Claud x Aristris and Arroque(Arrolin x Ploque)! I also like Yawxol(Yawgate x Ixol), Ulipale(Ulipse x Compale), PolyAntis(Rufio, Dominius, Ardyn and Disco((yep!)), Fran(Fraud x Stan), and much more. I won’t say the rest. You probably think I’m already cringy enough as it is B)
Yeah I’m a huge sucker for art of my comforts, so if you have any drawings of Aristris, Arrolin/Laoin, Clautris, Arroque etc, PLEASE TAG ME in your post!!!! I’d highly appreciate it and it’d mean the entire world to me just because of how much serotonin I get from it!!
Last thing, I DO ACCEPT REQUESTS!!!
I have a coded way of certain requests and it may be helpful to decide what you want!
“🖋 [insert character and/or specific request]” is for any random art prompts!
“💝 [insert two or more characters and/or specific request]” is for ship art prompts! I don’t mind the shit whatsoever, if you like the ship, I’m willing to draw it for you, regardless of whether I like it or not. Unless I feel uncomfortable with it, I’m more likely to draw it!!
“✍️[insert characters and/or specific request]” is for any headcanons or concepts I have for whatever your request is! It can be of a certain character, ship, or just au ideas I have!
“🎶[insert character(s) and/or specific request]” is for any songs I believe would fit a character judging by how I see them. They may not be accurate though, since my music taste is out of wack.
“⭐️[insert character(s)] is for icon requests! Give me a character and I’ll create and crop an icon for them! They will be usable, but don’t use them without crediting me!!
Don’t forget, my inbox isn’t JUST for requests. Chat me up any time you want!! I’m always happy to chat to y’alls, whether it’d be anonymous or not! Ask me a bunch of stuff, tell me your own thoughts and ideas, suggest things to me, ask my opinions on anything roblox related, go nuts! If you like to, you can also chat to me on discord or quotev! Discord is WlNDMAGE#6105, l is lowercase L not uppercase i! Quotev is .treebees! I’m always happy to chat anytime!
Public Discord server: https://discord.gg/vsRjVFB
THIS POST MAY BE UPDATED ANY TIME I WISH TO! I WILL MAKE A POST EACH TIME I MAKE AN UPDATE/EDIT TO THIS POST!
I thank you very truly for reading this post! I appreciate your time, and I welcome you to my blog anytime! This is Windy, signing off! <3
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about me:
rufio
he/they pronouns
transmasc / genderqueer / genderfluid / tomboi / it’s complicated and I’m sick of being forced to identify with neocolonial notions of gender and sexuality
27
mixed poc / second gen immigrant
multiply disabled and chronically ill
autistic, schizophrenic, dissociative, and managing.
full transparency: i am in the bd/sm community, but I also age regress therapeutically due to being autistic and for dissociative / DID reasons. this blog will not contain s*xual content.
wolf and dog therian
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about this blog:
self soothing things, will contain stim content, content that inspires my regression, content that pertains to my special interests, and things that overall help my mental health!
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main blog: @lostboy-straydog (warning: 18+ only)
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special interests / hyperfixations:
- steven universe
- night in the woods
- animal behavior and animals in general (esp dogs!)
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comforts:
- cooking and baking
- baby / childhood items
- halloween / fall
- pop punk music
- animal crossing
- specific characters (peridot, lapis, pearl, amethyst, ruby, and garnet from su, mae, gregg, and bea from nitw, mikan from danganropa, futaba from p5, natsuki from ddlc, etc) (there’s a lot more from various anime and whatnot whoops)
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For the DVD Commentary: Cesare was alone.Micheletto was gone, had abandoned him. Lucrezia was ignoring him, weeping in her room ever since Alfonso's death. His father, who understood the reasons behind Alfonso's death, was nonetheless playing the disappointed father until the gossip ceased. Even his mother had taken Lucrezia's side, blaming Cesare for something that had been an accident – at least that was not how it was supposed to happen.
For theDVD Commentary: Cesare was alone.Micheletto was gone, had abandoned him.Lucrezia was ignoring him, weeping in her room ever since Alfonso's death. Hisfather, who understood the reasons behind Alfonso's death, was nonethelessplaying the disappointed father until the gossip ceased. Even his mother hadtaken Lucrezia's side, blaming Cesare for something that had been an accident –at least that was not how it was supposed to happen.
DVD Comment Meme link
Thank you! This is from last year's Yuletide, The BelovedHenchman.
Theopening lines set the scene; recipient liked reunions so this is a post S3canon fic, in which Cesare feels abandoned – Micheletto had left, and after Alfonso'sdeath Lucrezia ignoring him. It seemed in character for Rodrigo to keep hisdistance until things calmed down, appearances being everything, and for theirmother to comfort Lucrezia more than Cesare.
Theirony of course is that Cesare had wanted Alfonso dead, just not by his hand,knowing how it would upset Lucrezia, but Alfonso had other ideas and did indeedfall onto a knife Cesare happened to be holding.
Cesare had wanted Alfonsodead, longed for it, planned for it, felt no sadness or remorse that he wasdead. Lucrezia deserved more. Lucrezia deserved better than a weakling who hadrefused to stand up for her and her son. Lucrezia deserved someone who wouldwillingly lay down his life for her or her child.Lucrezia deserved Cesare. Micheletto would have understood this.And it had been self-defence, despite what everyone thought.
Here we have Cesareacknowledging his attraction to Lucrezia, his devotion, and his need to seeAlfonso removed, and missing Micheletto.
Cesare had taken satisfaction inbeing the one to kill Giovanni Sforza but he remembered the consequences ofthat killing, his father's subsequent anger. He'd had no desire to be the oneto plunge his blade into Alfonso's body. This time he had made another, betterarrangement.Cesare had had Rufio standing ready to do the deed, thus keeping his own handsclean but Alfonso, the fool, had ruined it. Attacked Cesare, leaving him nochoice to defend himself. And Rufio had done nothing to help - Cesare hadtemporarily banished him until his own rage waned and he could bear to askanything of the man again.Micheletto would have intervened, calmed the situation if he could, or been theone to kill Alfonso, even in public, if he could not.If Micheletto had been at his side this probably would not have happened atall.God, Cesare missed him.
Rufio is no Micheletto. Cesarehad learnt from his past mistakes but his right hand man was not up to thetask.
He walked the gardens, peeringinto the chill night-air, alert for danger. He took his family's safetyseriously. He would always protect them, even when they turned against him.
Protective!Cesare is myfavourite :)
You will be naked, clean, andbloodless again, Cesare had told Lucrezia, and mine. He'd meantevery word. Alfonso was dead and there was no point wishing it otherwise. Thebest strategy now would be to ensure Alfonso was the last unsuitable husbandhis beloved sister ever had to endure. To claim her, to swear his love to her.Cesare had cleaned Lucrezia's face and hands but she had clasped her armsacross her breasts when he'd tried to unlace her gown. "Get out," shehad said and lay there, eyes vacant, staring at the ceiling. He didn't know howlong he sat there, hurt by her dismissal.Finally Rodrigo had arrived and made Cesare leave.
Poor Cesare! He loves her so much. But it's all right. All this is the past andhis hurt over it. The fic then moves into showing how things can move forward,with Micheletto's return and his intervention, and Lucrezia accepting that shewill always love Cesare and just needs a little more time to forgive him.
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Interview #5 - Tamrela
How have I already made it to five interviews? Didn’t I just write the first one a day or two ago? (Or: The Author has no sense of time. Everything was both an eternity ago and yesterday, all at once.) It’s just so much fun to get to talk about these characters. Just a reminder, there are a whole bunch of questions here; feel free to send me a character and a number (or a question that’s not on the list, just please keep it PG-13) if there’s something you want to know!
This interview is after Tamrela joins the Dark Brotherhood, but before the Purification. Mostly because it’s one of two happy periods in her life and I need something to counteract the angst right now. Watch the questions turn out dramatic and painful, just to be ironic.
WARNING: Tamrela is a murder cultist. There may be discussion/romanticization of death and murder.
1. Do you have a moral code? If not, how do you base your decisions? If so, where did it come from, and how seriously do you take it? (#166)
T: Oh wow. Straight for the hard questions, huh? Let’s see... when I was a child, I had a very strict moral code - comes from being the fourth person in a line of saviors of the known world.
(T rolls her eyes.)
T: The first time I seriously, deliberately broke it was when I took the Blade of Woe from Lucien and went to kill Rufio. And if I let myself think that was wrong - if I let myself start to question it - I’ll lose my mind. I was hurting, and I needed someone, and Lucien was the only one to offer. And now I love him too much to let go.
2. Do you feel you deserve to have what you want, be it material or abstract, or do you feel you must earn it first? (#61)
T: Earn it. Or, if I don’t earn it myself, someone earned it for me. My family has suffered for years to earn safety for the whole of Tamriel. I rescued Martin to earn the chance to know him. I killed Rufio to earn Lucien’s affection, I became an assassin to earn comfort and belonging and safety. Everything is earned.
3. Have you ever thought about homicide? (#118)
T: ... You do realize you’re talking to a member of the Dark Brotherhood, right? Half of my life is something to do with homicide.
4. How do you behave around children? (#49)
(T smiles sheepishly.)
T: Would you believe I haven’t really spent any time around children? Between being Dunmeri and being from a servant family, no-one really let their kids near me growing up, and ‘stranger in Dark Brotherhood armor’ is even worse.
5. What gets you flustered? (#201)
T: (flushes) nooo... you’re making me think of it! (quietly) Lucien’s pet names for me. I just - he calls me his Tamriel, ‘because I’m his world’, and I turn into a blushy, stammery mess! I am literally his favorite person in the whole world. I can’t even comprehend it; how am I supposed to take that calmly‽
6. How patient are you with others? Do you find it easy to handle people that try to annoy you, or hard? (#227)
T: It’s not exactly easy, and I can’t keep up a pleasant face for long, but I can put on an icy blank face and just not emote for as long as I need. It’s not a great solution, but it works when people are being brats. Of course, that’s only if they’re actively trying to antagonize me; if it’s accidental, it’s much easier to keep my temper in check.
7. Do you have a good memory? Short term or long term? (#226)
T: Eh. I have a pretty decent memory, I think, and about the same long and short term. Nothing amazing, but not pathetic either.
8. Would anyone be happy if you died? (#20)
T: ... Had to go for that one, huh? I - I really don’t like to think about that question. I know there are plenty of people who want me dead, but I don’t know who they are. But if I open the door, if I let that question creep into my head, it takes forever to get it out again. I just keep wondering, who else is on that list? Who do I know that wants me dead? Who wishes I wasn’t here?
9. What is your motto about life? (#235)
T: “If not no, then yes.” (laughs) I know, it doesn’t make much sense; let me explain. It’s a reminder to myself that whenever an opportunity comes up, if there’s no reason to say no, I should say yes. Otherwise I have a bad habit of just not doing anything. I’d rather sit around like a lump and avoid people.
10. Do you prefer a hot or cold environment? (#112)
T: Oh thank goodness, something simple! (sighs in relief) I wouldn’t say I prefer cold weather, but definitely cool weather. Think about a gray Autumn morning - that’s about the temperature I prefer.
#the elder scrolls#oblivion#bloodline!verse#interview#character asks#oc-tamrela#i love these things#half of the questions are trivia 'what weather do you prefer'#and the other half are super deep 'what is the worst thing you have ever done'#what the heck#why ya gotta make everything sad Tam#be happy for once!
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#hook 1991#peter pan#insulting#memes#lost boys#ouat#rufio is my comfort character#peter is such a sweet boy#i love them#help me
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#in my opinion#these two#bro-#what-#i'm not ok#ouat#besties#peter pan#malcom#rufio is my comfort character#more than a comfort character 🤨
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Rufio x Reader
Today...is the day!
Warning: my sh*tty writing
You woke up sleepy, but you were enthusiastic about today. You chose your clothes (your fav/swimsuit) covered by (your fav/"summer clothes"). It's a hot day, so is a good sign to go to the beach.
Walking nearly at the school, you notice that your friends are waiting to enter the bus.
The teacher was counting one by one, to make sure that no one is absent. However, finally, you entered the bus, even luckily, you sat with your best friend. You guys started laughing, conversing, until.
"So, (girl/bro), you're ready for today?" your best friend asked
"Yep! I'm enough with my stress, we're running the hell outta here!" You chortle
The bus started to turn on the motors and began with the journey.
~Moments later~
Eventually, you arrived. The beach was about to be empty, which is kind of strange, but there were a few people. The sun is very hot, and the sand on the beach is scalding.
Your class was getting to start cleaning the same as you do. Plastics, wasted food, and dirt was around it. It's sad and disgusting. As long as you were collecting, you saw a sword stabbed into the sand. Your eyes widened in surprise but then frowned in confusion.
Closely, you approached it, but the weirder thing is who left this sword here? Why no one noticed it? Do they even care? Is it tough to grab it? Is like a version of King Arthur's sword but stabbed in the sand. Carefully, you grabbed the sword. However, as touched you felt a strange and strong connection, it caused a sort of pain. Flashbacks come instantaneously into your mind. You freaked out, but you don't want to let go. Luckily, no one was watching, so you rapidly kept the sword in your bag and get back into the bus.
You were feeling odd after that. You didn't speak to anybody, nor either your best friend. At least you have the sword to figure it out, after that.
"Hey, are you ok?" Your best friend suspected
"Uh? Yeah...yup. I'm great...great. Don't worry about me!" You quickly reacted
"If you need to vent with me, you know that I'm always here by your side to help you!" Your pal suggested. Those words made you smile very pleased, that was extraordinarily charming the way your best companion tried to support you.
"You know what? I'm very glad that I've never had a mate just like you..."
She/He interrupted giving you a lovely hug. Which comforted you a lot.
"If you're in trouble, remember something that everything will be alright!" He/She said as the bus turned on to progress.
@thatonesinglefriend
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Rufio x Reader
Spring
Warning: my sh*tty English writing
It was spring. Your teacher prepared for a school trip. You and your class are going to the beach, in case the weather will be fine. Everyone would go if parents could sign the authorization for the trip.
You were relieved to relax your mind and forget all the stress you went through with responsibilities.
This activity is about pollution on the beach, and you with your class are going to collect trash.
First, when you got home after school you ran to your parents holding the paper of the permission. Also after that, you have homework to do.
"Mom. Dad. I have this paper from the parent's permission to go on the school trip." You demonstrated as your mom was reading it
"Oh, honey, of course, you can go on the school trip!" Your mom signed and gave it back to you
"Just be careful and stay safe! All I want is for you to be ok!" Your dad counseled you before you returned to your room excitedly.
"Ah, I can't wait for next week! I have done too much schoolwork, so I have the right to relax my mind..." You thought it to yourself.
@thatonesinglefriend
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