this is a blog for collecting stuff for and posting jrwi riptide ocs. if you've got ocs you want highlighted or want to submit some prompts for others to use to flesh out their oc crews or ocs, here's the place!!
what we'll do:
post any riptide oc related asks (that's deemed appropriate)
rb any riptide oc content (tag me!!)
collect and post prompts/suggestions/etc
these "prompts" are anything to help flesh out ocs, crews, or oc dynamics. this can be stuff like "party night on the crew! how is it going?" or "gun to their head your oc has to hug one person. who is it?" etc etc.
put the prompts and such in the askbox or submissions box, on or off anon is a-okay (submissions box is preferred but either way is okay!!)
and come join us in the riptide oc pirate crew server!! we get silly :3
Check out the pirate crew whoo whoo community on Discord - hang out with 20 other members and enjoy free voice and text chat.
this blog is run by @iii-of-ender (she/her) and @s0lar-ch3ri (he/her/it/sol)
tags:
#oc prompts - prompts for one or more characters (including relationship based ones)
and I don't wanna go home (please, hurry, leave me)
a lil smth for the riptide oc pirate crews!!! a little backstory piece for my oc rue and @unkandily’s naiya :]
(mild gore warning for some imagery i use!!!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The woods are as it always is at night. The crickets chirp and the night-birds coo, mice darting through the underbrush. The clink of his armor and the crunch of leaves under his boots joins the chorus, sending the little creatures beneath her feet skittering away.
The moonlight pours through the trees soon enough, sparkling across the sea. Rue steps from the treeline, breathing in the salty sea breeze, and lowers their gaze to the ledge that overhangs the rolling blue waves. And - there she is.
She sits hunched against a fallen log, legs lowering from their chest as she shifts. Her gaze stays forward, as always, and Rue mulls over the words on their tongue. He moves his hand to his hip, fingers brushing over the wilting petals of a hydrangea. She should announce herself first, as proper, before they approach, even though he knows they have already heard him. He opens his mouth, but snaps it shut just as quick at the sound of a sniffle.
Naiya jerks her head down, fist swiping across her eyes far too aggressively to be subtle. Rue’s step falters, and they stop just behind her. She watches Naiya breathe slow and long, the stuffy inhale and exhale, over and over and over, until—
“Why?” Her voice is quiet, nothing more than a whisper. Rue doesn’t know what they’re asking. Naiya’s fingers curl, nails scraping up the grass under their hands. He considers the safety of normalcy, of a diversion, of I found out what that flower was, but then her head turns to them.
Their eyes are blue like cloudless skies and forget-me-nots, pale and foggy over the iris. She blinks fast, as if to see around the forming tears, and presses their fisted knuckles to ground. Her voice is rough, and it’s loud, louder than usual, “Why?”
Rue bites her tongue until she tastes blood and swallows it down. Naiya’s gaze settles directly on their face, empty and accusing, and it makes his skin itchy. She picks at her fingers until they’re covered in strips of dead skin, but the crawling beneath rests steady with the heavy silence.
Naiya stares and stares and stares, shoulders trembling, and then it breaks. Her head tilts away and their breath comes wet and gasping, hands scrubbing and clawing at their face. Beside her, Jett circles her in laps, body pressed to her side. His dark eyes dart to the side, with something like expectation, and Rue’s legs feel shaky as she takes a step closer.
“Why do you do this to me?” Naiya asks, watery and wavering and rising, throat catching on the words as she yells, “Every fucking time. You come here and-and-”
Her voice cracks and she gasps around a hiccup, pausing to rub her eyes. She’s still pretty when she cries, with skin glowing and her expression pleasing even when twisted and scrunched. Rue wishes that she wasn’t, wishes that they would be blotchy and snotty and unpleasant, because ugly things are something he doesn’t have to worry about breaking, about keeping safe, about taking home to the glass case.
“Why do you pretend to care?” Their voice is lower now, but there’s something so angry and burning in it that it makes Rue falter. “Why even tell me there's good in the world if you can't show me it?”
“Why do this for them?” Her breathing is getting shakier, heavy and whistling through her teeth around the inhale. Rue swallows hard and watches the shadows bend and writhe, gray mass twisting until it's something with a face and hands. It settles before Naiya and stretches, fingers ghosting over her arms and shoulders, and they gasp in response, wheezing over a hiccup. “W-what have they ever done for you?"
Rue breathes and lowers themself to sit and stares as Naiya chokes out a sob and presses her forehead to her knees. “Why do you act like the only friend I've ever had and then drag me back to the one, the one fucking place I never want to see again?”
Dark eyes bore into him from over their shoulder, its gray figure shifting and fuzzy. It snarls at him with his own face. Fuck you, it mouths, I hate you I hate you I hate you. Rue closes her eyes and tangles her fingers in the grass, pressing down until the rocks scrape their knuckles and there is dirt under their fingernails.
“Please,” Rue whispers. Please don’t ask me. Please don’t look at me. Please, I don’t know. Their heart stutters in their chest, and they press two fingers against it and consider finally ripping the damn thing out. She could dig it out from under her ribs, place it pulsing and bloody on a platter. He could hand it over with the fluid and membrane and say I’m sorry. I don’t have the thing you want. Can this fix it?
Naiya whines some sad little sound, and Rue can’t bring himself to look at her as her cries get louder and harsher, tearing themselves from her throat. He waits, and waits and waits and waits, until, finally, Naiya wipes their eyes and lowers their knees, shoulders sinking and hunching with something like defeat.
Jett crawls into their lap, curling against her stomach, and he purrs as she runs her fingers across his back. She doesn’t look Rue’s way when they look at her, but they see the tears still trickling down, even as her lips press together and she goes silent.
It takes a long moment for Rue to find their words, scraping away the desperation from their tongue to force out a sentence. “Can I take you back?”
Naiya’s breath hitches, but they nod, tucking their hands under Jett’s belly as they stand. The catfish bumps his head to the underside of her chin, and Rue swallows hard and turns away. He drums his palm against the belt at his hip, a steady thump thump thump, and they don’t bother glancing back until they reach the looming silhouette of her father’s estate.
Naiya says nothing as they brush past her through the door, letting Jett jump from their arms so he can lead her into the house. Rue skims his fingers over dying petals, and she waits until they are out of sight before she shuts the door and pulls the stem from her belt.
They twirl it between their fingers as they walk through the streets, watching the brown and purple spin and spin. The stem leaks as it breaks, but he holds it steady and breathes it in. She imagines speaking earlier, turning around and grabbing her wrist, spitting out the words that had lodged in her throat - It’s hydrangea. They say it means understanding, and the purple is for royalty.
But he hates fantasizing, and it doesn’t matter what they would have said, because the past is the past and it is how it is, and they never will turn back. So she lowers her hand and drops the flower in the grass, and she doesn’t look back as she walks home.
