a YUMESHIP DRAWING FOR A FRIEND!!
This was so fun to draw!!
(OC belongs to mightyplayz on yt!!)
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Thorn
S1; EP1: “Rotten To The Core”
Halen’s POV:
Another day on this island. I swear I’ve seen every nook and cranny this dump has to seein my sixteen years. I was waiting and bussing tables at the Slouvaki joint when I saw Mal waving her arms outside, already hearing the jangling sound of spray paint cans shaking in her duffle bag.
“Alright, that’s all you guys get of me. Pain, Panic, try not to burn the place down.”
I grabbed my things, meeting Mal outside.
“Y'know, it won’t kill you to come inside every now and then.”
“I know, just, y'know how things are between me and Dad.”
“You mean you not wanting people to connect the dors between him and us and you believing all of Mom’s bullshit about him? Yeah. So you’re finally finishing it.”
“Hell yes I am!”
“Then let’s go. We don’t have long before the others catch up with us.”
I sat munching on apples while Mal worked on completing her most recent piece. Auradon had nothing to do with the fruit on account of Snow White.
“Just a few more strokes…and…done!”
Mal stepped back from her work.
“What do you think?”
I looked at the completed piece beside Mal. Our mother’s silhouette with the words Long Live Evil.
“Chills.”
“No really, what do you think, Halen?”
“Reminds me a bit too much of her. You’re wicked at this.”
“Oh nice, you finished it!”
“Took you long enough.”
“It looks positively evil, M.”
“It does, doesn’t it. Regularly scheduled mischief making anybody?”
“Count me in.”
The five of us ran around the Isle, making sure whoever crossed our path knew we were Rotten to the Core.
The crowd of other villain kids that gqd followed dispersed with screams as two men in worse for wear clothes stepped through. That meant only one thing. As chaos ensued, Mal grabbed a lollipop from a baby in a wagon, causing the rest of us to laugh maniacally.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Mother.”
“Stealing candy Mal? So disappointing.”
“It was from a baby.”
“That’s my nasty little girl.”
“And the one you always seem to forget exists.”
“Oh nonsense, you just don’t do anything worth my praise, dear. Which reminds me, you five have been chosen to attend a new school in Auradon.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, no, I’m not going to some boarding school filled to the brim with prissy pink princesses.”
“And perfect princes!”
“Well it’s too bad you don’t get any say. Follow children.”
We followed back to the flat.
“We really need to get an elevator.”
“Now, you will go. You will find the fairy godmother, and you will bring me back her magic wand. Easy peasy.”
“What’s in it for us?”
“Matching thrones. Hers, hers, and hers crowns. You name it darlings.”
“I’m pretty sure she meant us, Mom.”
“This is about you two and me, my babies. Tell me do you enjoy watching innocent people suffer?”
“Yeah, who doesn’t.”
“I want them to burn to the ground.”
“Well then get me the wand, and both of you and I can have that and so much more.”
“We won’t let you down, Mom.”
“See, I knew you’d come to your senses. Go pack. You all leave in the morning.”
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Answer
The room had stilled with the sudden tension and he was just as shocked at such a brazen display. Quite the ballsey move to put her hands on a Morningstar
He was silent, pupils constricted and stare intense. His mind flickered with every violent thought, every punishment that befits an Overlord disrespecting him
Claws reached forward, grabbing her wrist tight and digging hard to hold her there, “ did I touch a nerve? “ his deep voice mocked
Answer
if mill has a million fans, then i am one of them. if mill has ten fans, then i am one of them. if mill has only one fan then that is me. if mill has no fans, then that means i am no longer on earth. if the world is against mill, then i am against the world.
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I DON’T HATE RE9 I’M JUST SICK OF SEEING LEON GAY ASS KENNEDY RAAAAAHHHH!!!!!! that being said thank you capcom
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DESCENDANTS OMEGAVERSE FANFIC
ALPHA VKs X OC OMEGA
WARNING ⚠️:
- SLIGHTLY TOXIC
- HEATED SCENES
(The scene opens not in the sun-drenched halls of Auradon Prep, but in the dim, perpetually twilight hold of the Isle of the Lost. The air is thick with the scent of damp stone, stale seawater, and something else: a complex, layered aroma of four distinct Alphas and one, softer, sweeter note that binds them all together.)
Her name was Nyx, and she was theirs. Had been since the first time a scrawny, six-year-old Carlos De Vil, smelling of ozone and wet dog, had shoved a pilfered apple into her hands with a grunt, his small body trembling with the instinct to provide. Since a fierce, pint-sized Jay, scent like sun-warmed sand and stolen spices, had stood in front of her, baring his baby teeth at a Bargain Castle lackey who’d looked at her for too long. Since Evie, even then a vision in patched-up blue, had begun tailoring scraps of fabric to fit Nyx’s smaller frame, her scent of cold cream and ambition a constant, soothing presence. And since Mal, all sharp edges and dragon-scale green, had carved a crude ‘M’ into the rusted metal above their hideout, declaring in a voice that brooked no argument, “She’s ours. Our Omega. Our heart. Anyone touches her, they answer to me.”
They were a pack forged in grime and survival. Nyx was the soft center they all orbited, the calm to their storms. She was, in many ways, the stereotype: petite, with a gentle demeanor, nurturing to a fault, her scent a comforting blend of night-blooming jasmine and warm milk—a shocking tenderness amidst the Isle’s rot. And they had claimed her, thoroughly. Not just with words, but with marks. The claiming bite on her neck, right over her scent gland, was a collective masterpiece—four overlapping sets of teeth marks, a permanent, painful brand of belonging from each of her Alphas. They scented her constantly. A nuzzle from Carlos after he’d been tinkering, leaving the sharp tang of metal and static in her hair. Jay draping an arm around her shoulders, his possessive, earthy scent enveloping her. Evie kissing her temple, the floral notes of her perfume mingling with Nyx’s own. Mal, most possessive of all, would often grip Nyx’s chin, rub her wrist firmly over Nyx’s scent glands on her neck, rewriting the air around her with the dominant, smoky-green signature of a dragon’s heir. Mine. Ours.
(🔥)
The Night Before Auradon
The night before Ben’s limo arrived, the pack was a knot of tension in their loft. The unknown was an enemy they couldn’t fight with fists or tricks. “I don’t like it,” Mal growled, pacing like a caged panther, her scent spiking with aggression. “It’s an opportunity, Mal,” Evie reasoned, though her own scent betrayed her anxiety. Nyx sat curled on a moth-eaten couch, a silent ball of worry. The stress must have leaked into her scent—a sour note of fear cutting through the jasmine. It acted like a magnet.
Carlos was there first, kneeling before her, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. “Shhh, pretty girl. We’re here.” His tongue swiped a hot, wet stripe over her claiming mark, a grounding, intimate gesture that made her shiver.
Then Jay was behind her, his broad chest against her back, his arms wrapping around her waist. “No one’s taking anything from us, Nyxie.” His teeth grazed the shell of her ear, a promise and a threat. His hands slid under her threadbare shirt, calloused palms skating over the soft skin of her stomach, leaving trails of fire.
Evie joined, displacing Carlos to cradle Nyx’s face. “You are the most precious thing in this world,” she murmured, her lips a breath away from Nyx’s. “Our beautiful Omega.” She captured Nyx’s mouth in a deep, searching kiss, all silken persuasion and dominant need.
Mal watched for a moment, eyes blazing with violet intensity, before she stalked over. She didn’t ask. She simply took Nyx’s wrist from Jay’s grasp and pushed the sleeve up, exposing the delicate skin of her inner arm. With a low growl that vibrated through the room, Mal leaned down and bit down, not hard enough to break the skin anew, but with enough pressure to brand, to remind. As she did, she released a heavy wave of her Alpha scent—smoke, iron, and wild magic—directly onto the spot. Nyx cried out, a muffled sound against Evie’s mouth, her body arching between Jay’s hold and Mal’s claim. It was overwhelming, a tidal wave of possession that chased away all fear, leaving only the absolute certainty of her place: beneath them, between them, theirs.
The Gilded Cage of Auradon Prep
Auradon was sensory overload. Too much light, too much color, air so clean it felt thin. And the scents. Dozens of unfamiliar Alphas, Betas, and the rare, sheltered Omega. Nyx stuck to her pack like a shadow, her small hand often tucked into Carlos’s or Jay’s, Evie’s arm linked with hers, Mal always positioning herself between Nyx and the world.
But she was a novelty. A Villain Kid Omega, already claimed, marked by four of the most dangerous teens on the Isle. It was a challenge. A lure.
The problems started small. An Alpha from the tourney team, Chad Charming, would get too close in the hallway, his cloying cologne-and-ego scent making her nose wrinkle. “A shame such a delicate flower grew in such… rough soil,” he’d simper, until Jay appeared, sliding an arm around Nyx’s waist with a deceptively lazy grin that didn’t reach his cold eyes, his sand-and-spice scent flaring aggressively. Chad would retreat, muttering.
Then it was a young lord from a remote kingdom, who brought her overly-sweet pastries, ignoring her soft “no, thank you,” until Evie materialized, her smile icy. “My Omega has a refined palate. She doesn’t care for… cheap imitations.” Her cold cream and ambition scent would sharpen into something warning and metallic.
The pack’s scent-marking became more frequent, more blatant. Between classes, Carlos would corner her in an alcove, nuzzling and licking at her claiming bite until her knees went weak, ensuring she walked into her next class smelling unmistakably of him. Jay would pull her onto his lap in the common room, blatantly rubbing his jaw over her hair and neck, growling softly at anyone who looked too long. They were painting her in their signatures, a living canvas of their claim.
(🔥)
The most persistent suitor was Prince Alexander, a distant cousin of Ben’s from a northern kingdom. He was polite, handsome, and an Alpha with a calm, pine-and-snow scent that was somehow more irritating than Chad’s arrogance because it was nice. He sought her out in the library under the guise of studying Auradon history.
“The Isle must have been dreadful for someone like you,” Alexander said softly, his gaze lingering on the visible edge of her claiming mark above her collar. “So gentle. You must have been terrified.”
Nyx fidgeted, her scent spiking with anxiety. “I had my pack. I was safe.”
“Safety isn’t the same as… care. The right kind of care.” He leaned forward slightly, and his pine-snow scent intensified, trying to blanket hers. It was a subtle Alpha coaxing, an attempt to soothe and attract.
He never got the chance to continue.
The air in the library aisle suddenly grew thick and hot. A scent of ozone and furious static crackled first—Carlos, emerging from between two bookshelves, his eyes electric blue with rage. Then came the smell of sun-baked stone and imminent violence—Jay, blocking the other end of the aisle, cracking his knuckles. The aroma of frost-edged roses and cold steel—Evie—drifted from behind Nyx’s chair, a hand coming to rest possessively on her shoulder. Finally, the dominant, oppressive wave of dragon-smoke and wild magic—Mal—filled the space as she stepped into view, looking at Prince Alexander not as a prince, but as prey.
“You seem lost,” Mal said, her voice dangerously quiet. “This section is reserved. For our pack.”
Alexander paled, the combined force of four hostile, protective Alpha scents pressing down on him. He stammered an apology and fled.
But the pack’s fury wasn’t spent. The threat to their Omega had ignited something primal.
“Upstairs. Now,” Mal commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. They had discovered a disused astronomy tower at the top of the library—their private haven in Auradon.
The moment the trapdoor shut behind them, Nyx was surrounded. Jay pinned her against the stone wall, his mouth descending on hers in a searing, punishing kiss. “Letting him talk to you,” he muttered against her lips, his hands gripping her hips.
“Smelling his scent on you,” Carlos snarled, burying his face against her neck, licking and biting over their shared mark as if to erase any trace of the foreign Alpha. His fingers worked at the buttons of her shirt.
Evie, with deliberate slowness, turned Nyx’s face towards her. “You are a queen among us,” she whispered, her kiss deep and claiming. “You do not take crumbs from princes.” She peeled Nyx’s shirt off her shoulders.
Mal watched, a conductor of their shared passion. When Nyx was bare before them, trembling with a mix of residual fear and building arousal, Mal stepped forward. She didn’t touch Nyx like the others. Instead, she looked at Carlos. “Carlos. Remind her who she belongs to.”
With a growl of approval, Carlos lifted Nyx effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to a pile of old tapestries in the corner. He wasn’t gentle. It was a reclamation. Each thrust was a punctuation mark: Mine. Ours. Jay’s mouth was on her breasts, Evie’s fingers were tracing patterns on her skin, and Mal’s dominant scent blanketed them all, her eyes glowing with satisfaction as she watched their Omega come apart under their combined attention, sobbing their names into Carlos’s shoulder, her sweet jasmine scent exploding in the room, now hopelessly intertwined with the four she belonged to—a perfect, potent cocktail of possession.
The Breaking Point & The Choice
The incident with Alexander was a turning point. The pack became more isolated, more aggressive. Ben, trying to be a good king and friend, grew concerned. He called a meeting with Mal, alone.
“The other students are scared, Mal. The constant scent-marking, the aggression… it’s bordering on hostile. Nyx is a person, not just your Omega.”
Mal’s eyes flashed. “You have no idea what she is to us. You with your perfect kingdom and your single scent mark. She is our everything. We built ourselves around her. We will burn Auradon to the ground before we let anyone think they can have her.”
The tension was a live wire. Nyx felt it most acutely. The pack’s love was a fortress, but it was also becoming a cage. She loved them, worshipped them, needed their scents and touches like air. But for the first time, a tiny, traitorous thought whispered: What if I want to smell the flowers in the courtyard without Jay layering his scent over them first? What if I want to have a conversation that doesn’t end with someone’s teeth on my skin?
The breaking point came at the Enchanted Lake. She’d gone for a moment of quiet, but Chad and another Alpha had followed, surrounding her with their overpowering scents, their words lewd and threatening. The pack had descended like avenging furies. It wasn’t a fight; it was a brutal dismantling. When Fairy Godmother and Ben arrived, Chad was whimpering on the ground, and Nyx was curled in a shaking ball, surrounded by her four snarling, bloodied Alphas.
Suspended. All of them. Separated.
It was agony. A physical pain worse than any Isle hunger. In the sterile silence of her solitary dorm, her skin felt cold, her mark ached, and she was drowning in the absence of them—Carlos’s static, Jay’s warmth, Evie’s perfume, Mal’s smoke. She was a limb severed from its body.
Ben visited her. “Nyx, this… dynamic. It’s not healthy. You have choices here. You are more than their Omega.”
She listened, tears streaming down her face, her scent a pathetic wisp of sad jasmine. He was right. And he was so wrong.
The pack was given an ultimatum: undergo “integration counseling” and learn to control their possessive instincts, or be sent back to the Isle.
(🔥)
They were given one supervised hour together in a neutral room. The moment the door closed, they were on her.
It was a silent, desperate frenzy. No words were needed. Clothes were torn, not removed. Carlos was kissing her as if trying to drink her soul, his hands everywhere. Jay turned her around, bending her over the back of a couch, entering her in one smooth, claiming stroke that ripped a sob from her throat. Evie was in front of her, feeding her kisses and whispered devotions. Mal stood back for only a moment before gripping Nyx’s hair, forcing her head up to meet her gaze.
“Tell me,” Mal demanded, her voice raw. “Tell us who you are.”
Nyx, impaled on Jay, surrounded by them, their scents flooding back into her senses like a life-giving tide, broke. “Yours!” she cried out, the word a prayer and a surrender. “I’m yours! Your Omega! Your heart! Please, I can’t… I can’t breathe without you!”
It was messy, raw, and profound. It was four Alphas and their Omega re-weaving the bond that had been frayed by a world that didn’t understand it. When it was over, they were a tangled heap on the floor, breathing as one, scents so thoroughly merged it was impossible to tell where one ended and another began.
Nyx lay in the center, covered in their marks anew, their scents, their love. She looked at Ben, who had entered quietly at the end of the hour, his face a mask of pity and confusion.
She spoke softly, her voice hoarse but clear. “You see a cage, King Ben. I see… my home. They are my madness and my sanity. My protectors and my vulnerability. I am their Omega. Not a stereotype. Not a victim. Theirs. By choice. By blood. By scent.”
She took Mal’s hand, then Evie’s, then Carlos’s, then Jay’s. “We’ll take the counseling. We’ll learn to live in your world.” She lifted her chin, the claiming bite stark and proud on her neck. “But we will not apologize for what we are. And we will not be separated again.”
The pack stood as one unit around her, their scents—now calm, united, and fiercely protective—washing over her in a final, unbreakable declaration. They had faced the Isle. They would face Auradon. Together.
A/n what do y'all think?
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A/N
PLEEEAASEEE DON’T BE GHOST READERS, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!, COMMENT!, EXPRESS YOUR THOUGHTS!, SEND REQUESTS!
ANYTHINGGGGGG
IT MOTIVATES ME
pretty please with Dami’s katana on top ( ´◡‿ゝ◡`)
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ok so well
my mom went back home at the begining of the month because her mom wasnt doing well. and she did pass a couple weeks later.
i offered to fly out and be with her, but she said not to. i didnt have a relationship with my grandparents. i just waned to be there for her. shes lost her grandpa and brother in the last 5 years. but ultimately, it would be more stressful than supportive since i havent been home to my home country in over 15 years, and barely speak the language anymore.
her birthday was a few days after that, defniantely not the happiest but at least she was with her siblings and that was the first birthday they had been together in years.
she got back last week, but caught the flu clearly before getting on the plane and has been pretty much bedridden since getting home.
and the whole time she was in bed sick, her cat was dying and in pain. He had a chronic illness but was managed, and shes gone away before with no issues since she has had me, best friend, and neighbour to look after him. and he was doing ok when she got home, but she was so sick with the flu all she could really do for him was the bare minimum. and its a cat! they are pretty low maintenance as long as you keep within the schedule.
but turns out he took a turn at some point, but mom was too ill to really notice.
so when she woke up out of the fog this morning she look at him and realized it was time.
me in my blissfull little world came back from a catering tasting for my wedding, got home and remembered “oh yeah, moms not feeling great lets shoot her a text”
and she calls in instantly.
and she tells me “ i woke up at 4 today, and look at him and decided it was time”
btw my cat and hers are siblings. i picked them out as kittens.
my mom took care of both until about 5 years ago when i took my cat in because her brother was diagnoses with diabetes and it was hard for mom to take care of both.
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1. the last sentence you wrote
From my original thing, because that’s what I’ve been working on tonight.
Dmitri tries to slaughter the stupid flutter of hope in his chest—that she means it, it doesn’t work.
4. a story idea you haven’t written yet
Immersive, fully formed, mafia/organized crime au. I don’t know that I’ll ever get to it because the level of planning is…intense. But I think it would be fun.
8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…
Since I’m not allowed to say Sad Boys MountainDew ;). Caressed in Death, I think guard dog Dew should take bloodthirsty Cirrus out with him next time he goes hunting for revenge.
23. pick three keywords that describe your writing.
why is this so fucking hard!?
physical. immersive. emotional.
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“Hey Pharaoh! Perhaps you should tell Sir Faust about the time we first met. Remember all the dragons and destruction? Good times.”
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ALTbro this mf just whispered to himself “one by one they will all fall” && chuckled like wat the fuck do yu mean by that ????? /ref