#Phantom's oc trash

[sable-roteuth]

stuff

[iluminatka16]

The Bat And The Cat

Tags: Konrad Curze x f!oc, chaotic fluff, cuddling, two menacies to society in too close proximity to each other, air jail

Warnings: mention of torture and suggestion of SA

Summary: The two most stubborn people in the galaxy have a nightmare and need some comfort. Or - how (not) to wake up a primarch.

Word count: 1808

English isn't my first language so sorry for any mistakes.

A gentle application of force was enough to make the skin on her abdomen break. In the slums, knives were blunt and often worn out, so the whole process was much more painful. Although she was Perpetual, she still felt pain when someone brought her guts out into the open. She was sitting strapped to a chair when blood gushed from her abdomen, the gritty texture of the leftover fat in her emaciated body visible as day. However, that wasn't the worst of it. In front of her, on the floor, lay the silhouette of a man. His inhumanly handsome and, to many, terrifying face was contorted into a tired grimace. His long black hair was scattered across the floor, and his dark eyes stared into the void. However, she didn't dare look down below, where there was a yawning wound on his neck that separated his head from the rest of his body. She stared silently at the man's body as her executioner continued to cut off his skin and flesh piece by piece. Piece by piece.

Falka rose abruptly, panting. Sweat ran down her forehead, and her heart pounded as if it was about to jump out of her chest. With a trembling hand, she touched her cheek, tracing a wet mark on her skin with her finger. She must have cried in her sleep. She wiped her face with one hand in an attempt to calm down, and with the other she reached down to her abdomen, touching the countless scars that covered it. There was no trace of the wound. Falka sighed quietly. She turned onto her stomach, drawing the pillow to her body. She tried to fall asleep, but she could not get rid of the unpleasant feeling that, like an icy fist, clenched on her heart. She was still angry and raw after their earlier argument, she had no desire to see his face. However, the feeling of unease did not leave her even as she tried to suffocate herself with a fluffy mass, pressing her face into the pillow. After several minutes of trashing, she finally rose furiously to sit down, clasping her hands on the satin material. Cursing under her breath, she stood up and put her slippers on her bare feet. Fucking ship. If it weren't for the fact that they were currently traveling through the Warp, she would have opened a portal and escaped the fucking metal can. As far away from him, his sons and all those memories as possible.

Falka opened the door to her quarters and stepped out into the hallway. She looked crazy to say the least - clad only in a nightgown, she moved through the halls like a phantom. She quickly found herself in front of Konrad's quarters, or better put, chamber. For someone who prided himself on a frugal lifestyle, Curze liked his bedroom to be decorated with splendor. Beds on the Nostramo for the poorest were a luxury, as were many other aspects of daily life. Falka swallowed bitterly at the memory of the musty mat on the floor, which might as well not have been there, that she shared with the woman what gave birth to her, or the later cold floor she was forced to sleep on for most of her teenage years. Their childhood in the shithole had twisted them in various ways, in Konrad's case one of it was an obsession with keeping his bedroom as if he were to house his older brother, Fulgrim.

Not that she was complaining. After all, she spent most of her nights there instead in her quarters.

She passed two Night Lords standing outside the entrance. They didn't question her. Of course they didn't. She had been in Konrad's life too long not to know any of his sons. Even if not by name. She noiselessly opened the door, noting in her mind that if she stopped being angry with Curze she was to tell him about the fact that he should do something about those hinges because they don't make any sound, which is dangerous, and then entered the room. She expected Konrad to hear her footsteps, that when she approached his bed she would find dark eyes pointed accusingly at her and a question about what possessed her at this hour. Fucking bastard.

To her shock, only silence greeted her, punctuated by the quiet, barely audible, buzzing of the ship. Falka felt the blood drain from her face. She walked closer to the bed, fearing she would see the worst. But panic was quickly replaced by relief and involuntary annoyance when a quiet whine came to her ears, and she could see Konrad trashing on the bed. He was mumbling something under his breath, his hands clenched on the sheet, tearing it in several pieces. He was having a nightmare, just like she had a few minutes earlier. Falka knew better than to wake him up when he was like this. Especially when he was in a bad mood before going to bed. The scar on her arm regularly reminded her of this. Having no other choice and perhaps feeling a slight need to teach him a lesson, Falka grabbed one of the pillows on the chair, swung and threw it straight at his face. It bounced off him, snapping him out of his sleep. Konrad growled like an animal visibly shocked by what had happened, his hand instinctively hurling the pillow to the other side of the room.

"What the..." he began, panting. Then his gaze fell on Falka. "What are you just.... YOU LITTLE BITCH, HOW DARE YOU..."

Konrad grabbed the quilt with his hands and uncovered himself. His eyes, as if in a frenzy, passed around the room, trying to understand what was happening. He tried to get up, but was stopped by the small hands on his shoulders. Falka thought she was going to start crying again when she felt the warmth of his skin, indicative of his condition quite far from death. Not that she would have been able to hold him for long - Konrad was more than 3 ft taller than her and somehow twenty times stronger. But it was enough of an element of surprise that she approached him so boldly, doing something most people would have had their guts ripped out for. Not that throwing a pillow at the primarch's pretty face was any less of a crime by any measure.

Without waiting for his sleep-blinded mind to process the information, Falka merely crawled into his lap. Her body clung to his chest, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to listen to the beating of his twin hearts. He was terrified or upset about something. But he was alive. And that was the most important thing. This arrogant, sarcastic asshole was alive. His breathing now quickened, his body tense as the muscles under his skin moved. Falka was so lost in a sense of relief that she ignored Konrad's hostile demeanor and the curses rained down on her. If he wants to pull her away he will do so without a problem. Now she had no intention of moving from her favorite cushion.

She was snapped out of her reverie by a hand pressed against her head. His fingers moved through her ginger strands, untangling one of the tangles that had formed there during her nightly trashing. And slowly, Konrad sank back onto the pillow again, cradling her to his chest.

"Madwoman." He muttered. "What, you aren't angry with me anymore?" His voice, though filled with sarcasm, had no real venom in it.

Falka shifted slightly, searching for the most comfortable spot and muttering quietly. Then she felt Konrad's hand move from her head, to her neck. She was ready to bite him if he got the idea of strangling her, but instead she only felt his fingers finding her pulse point and pressing gently. When he received confirmation that the girl in his arms was indeed alive, Falka could hear the frantic beating of his heartbeat slowly change to a steady one, indicating that he had calmed down. She didn't know why, but at the gesture there was a warmth in her chest that pride wouldn't let her name.

"I had a nightmare." Falka muttered after a moment of silence. She expected the mocking scoff that Konrad liked to use when he was still raw after their arguments. But instead she felt his hand move from her neck to her back and start stroking the skin there. "From that night, when the pimp of the woman who gave birth to me discovered that I could regenerate myself and gave me to my first and last client."

Falka felt Konrad's body tighten. The memory of these people upset him even 300 years after the events. The hand on her back stopped to press her against his chest, trying to protect her from the world. The other, on the other hand, reached for the quilt and forced it over them, covering them with it.

"I still regret that he died so quickly when I skinned him alive." Konrad whispered, her voice this time devoid of sarcasm, turning more into a... purr? It was a rumbling sound from his throat, a tone of voice reserved only for her when she needed comfort or they were relaxed.

For a few seconds, Falka wondered if she should tell him that he had died in that dream, but refrained. Konrad was paranoid and might begin to think that the dream was not a symptom of PTSD after all, but a vision of the future where he would be killed and she tortured.

"And you? You were screaming like a little girl when I found you" Falka asked, sliding her hand over the skin of his arm. She was snapped out of her blissful moment by a light smack to the back of her head. "Ouch, you asshole!"

"Liar."

"I'm telling the truth and I can demonstrate."

"You're the one who's about to scream if you don't calm down."

Falka was about to respond with something clever, but at that moment strong hands pulled her off his chest. For a moment he held her in the air on top of him, wanting to make fun of her low height and how easily he could lift her. The disrespect… Falka with annoyance began to wince, trying to kick him, but the next second she lay safely immobilized between his arms as he rolled to his side and pressed her against him.

"You're choking me!" Falka wheezed out, struggling.

In response, Konrad merely pulled her closer and tucked her head under his chin.

"Good. Suffer.”

___

Uff, and my first fic on tumblr is published. Don't come for me for using wrong tags, I'm still learning haha.

[pinkyjulien]

I really, really hate the "Female V is canon" vs "Male V is canon" debate that been popping here and here in the tags those past weeks

Cyberpunk 2077 is a Role Playing Game, there is no "canon" protagonist, that's the whole point. We all have a different playstyles, different stories and headcanons, our custom V is The Canon V of Our Own playthroughs!

After Phantom Liberty dropped, I've seen a lot of players, on Tumblr or Twitter, voicing their concerne and disappointment in how much more Female V focused the official promo, videos and even in-game credits became

I was one of them too, expressing my feelings multiple times, sometimes awkwardly, frustrated that Male V players were once again brushed to the side, because that's how it feels like, right?

Well, it might feels like it, but this isn't the case AT ALL, far from it. This is only what I would call a "Fandom Phenomenon" and I want to talk more about it a bit

I had a great conversation with a friend of mine who works in the game industry and it opened my eyes on the matter, and I've since been really interested in seeing RPGs statistics!

Because it's really, really important to make the difference between the Casual Player Base (majority of players) and the Fans / Fandom Base (minority of players)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I always been lurking in fandoms here on Tumblr, since Mass Effect, Dragon Age, and now with Cyberpunk 2077 and Baldur's Gate 3

First I want to drop some stats- might be completly wrong, but I'm only sharing my point of view here, in an attempt to explain why some people are frustrated with Female V being the focus (and why we shouldn't be!)

I think it's not wrong to say that fandoms are mostly occupied by women and fem-identifying individuals; fandoms are a safe place for players and fans to share their passions. Women are STILL HEAVILY harassed and hated in the gaming industry as a whole, it doesn't take a lot of digging to catch a vile comment on Twitter or on Twitch for example, you cannot go far without seeing someone either attacking or sexualizing them

This is a huge problem in the industry still, every games that release with a female protagonist get trashed- just look at the bullshit surrounding GTA 6 just because players will be able to play as a woman as an option

Fandoms are also safe for non-gender conforming people, non-binaries, trans people and queer men, but I think fem individuals and women are a clear majority, at least on Tumblr (only talking about genders identity here and not about being queer or not, not talking about sexualities or attraction) (not an official stat at all and only my point of view and experience from being on Tumblr since ~2012)

Now let's talk about Cyberpunk 2077- because this is my main fandom since 2020, and what prompted me to write this post in the first place

CDPR didn't share any stats recently, but it's REALLY SAFE to assume the MAJORITY of players are playing a straight Male V romancing Panam, followed by a lesbian Female V romancing Judy, but the player pools for both options are still majoritarly cis hetero men (and they are still the focus for AAA studios to sell their games, this is sadly just how it is)

However on the fandom side, Fem V was always the focus; virtual photography, mods, ships, OCs... She was always more popular than Male V, getting more interactions and notes and why trends like "Male V monday" were created and why there is still a lack of male V focused mods (non-binaries and trans fem folks and characters are also sadly under-represented in all type of content and art)

So, being yourself as a non-fem player, playing as a Masc V, seeing CDPR officially make the switch from Male V to Female V, when the space you've been in for the past 3 years has been overwhelmingly Female V focused on all front, was a bit of a punch in the guts; like I said earlier, I was reaaally frustrated with this too!

And I'd say it's "normal"? or at least "ok" to feel this way, it makes sense considering how little attention Male V in general get in the fans community

BUT. BUT... It's REALLY important here to realize how we sound and how we look like when we voice our frustrations on the matter; we sound and look just like all the misogynistic people over on Twitter who screams about "woke games" everytime there is a female protagonist in their "non political games". We have to remember that fandoms are suuuch a small part of the game industry

Baldur's Gate 3 recently shared their stats and this interesting tweet got into my dash

▶ tweet

Astarion is nowhere to be seen in the official most romanced companions statistic, but I'm sure a lot of people will agree that he's probably the most popular one in the fandom side!

Another stat here from Mass Effect and really interesting info coming from David Gaider about how the hardcore fanbase aka fandom's choices were WILDLY different from the casual / main player pool

▶ tweet

Getting my head out of the fandom bubbles and seeing the bigger picture, how much under-represented women still are in official medias (not talking about fan content) and how insanly misoginistic the game industry still is, both on the player and devs sides, helped me handle my own frustration on the matter, accept and even celebrate Female V being the focus for the Phantom Liberty campaign

With all that said tho, we all should be able to vent about the lack of Male, Masc and Non-Binary content in the fandom side, while still being aware of the industry state, it CAN co-exist! It doesn't make anyone a bad or misogynist person!

We are all humans and can be awkward and make mistakes, especially when voicing frustration or talking while in a negative mood. Let's educate one another in good-faithed manners when we slip instead of jumping to conclusion and throw accusations

Not gonna lie I kind of lost my train of thoughts and not sure how to finish this post, but I hope this can enlight some people on why CDPR made this choice!

Repeating this as a finale note; this doesn't mean that Female V is the "main" V or "canon" V . It's simply her time to shine, and it's well deserved! The industry needs it

[isabeauwolf]

Guess this is a shorta Q&A and Story about how my Overhaul x Villainess OC Mary x Dabi x Shiggy fanfic came about and its creation. 🤣🫣 Ugh, what a mess 😅 Plus, a tiny sneak peak/ scenario

---

Down in the underground labyrinth of the Shie Hassaikai base, inside the secret meeting room Dabi and Tomura Shigaraki sat on one side of the couch while Mary and Overhaul sat on the other across from the clear coffee table.

Our Author sat in-between the couch in a loveseat. "Originally, last year I decided to make my own Overhaul x Villainess OC x Shiggy fanfic since I had dialogue and scenes written down all over the place." She sighed.

An awkward silence settled over the room.

Dabi waved. "Princess, why dontcha come play with me instead of Bird face." He gave Mary a small coy smile, "I won't bite. Unless you want me to."

Tomura seething in his corner. "I was Yakuza Boys rival before burnt face rudely used a cheat code! She's my Queen and Player 2." Narrowing his crimson iris' at Dabi. "Get your own love interest to seduce from some back alley brothel or hole in the wall, Dabi. I was leveling up and gaining intimacy points long before you showed up." Turning his angry gaze at the author. "How the hell did this happen? It was supposed to be just me and the germ freak fighting for her affections."

"As I said multiple times, Dabi kept shoving his way into the fanfic like the little impatient gremlin that he is." The author gives a strained smile, obviously tired from lack of sleep and the heat wave outside. "In the end, Mary's got 3 villainous mates. Happy?"

Mary's inner wolf, wagging her tail and jumping up and down "Yay!"

Mary blushing, mismatched eyes widening. "Wait, a minute... Can't we just?!"

Overhaul sitting besides Mary, glaring at Tomura and Dabi. "Absolutely, not. My angel is my wife." His face scrunched up in both distain and disapproval underneath his beaked plague mask. "Not those filthy arrogant diseased ridden gutter trash."

"Now, now, Kai. My dearest, please calm down." Her wolf ears flat against her head and nuzzling into his side. "It's tradition and law for shifters to have up to 5 mates."

Kai grits his teeth, "I am aware, angel." Uncrossing his arms, reaching behind and pulling her into his side, gloved grip becoming possessive. "It also states that you need permission from your first mate, mine as your husband, and your grandfather's since he is the leader of your clan."

Mary pouts. "True."

Dabi stands, walks over to the married couples couch and plops down on the other side of Mary, grinning lazily. "What can I say Overbeak," scared lips, curling into a smug smirk, "Can't stay away from my firebrand, right, princess?" Casually pressing a hand down on the top of her head, giving headpats between her ears. "Besides, I'm sure little Eri would be sad to miss her new daddy, wouldn't she?"

Kai's thin eyebrow twitched in irritation. "Don't bring, Eri into this, homewrecker."

Tomura fidgeting and hands twitching, curling and uncurling into tight fists. "I'm still here. Don't you two fucking ignore me." He growled underneath Father and cut in.

Dabi scoffs. "Yeah, yeah, we hear ya yappin' handyman." Waving him off. "Can't help that I've got more game than your crusty introverted ass." Removing his hand from the top of Mary's head to lay it across the back of the couch, digits tapping.

"Say that to my face you burnt bastard!"

"What was that?" Dabi cups a hand over his ear, tilting his head. "Can't hear ya over your chapped lips, gamer boy."

Mary interjects, smiling sheepishly. "Guys, calm down. I'm sure we can make this work."

"No, we are not." Kai speaks, the invisible tingling, phantom itching and crawling in his skin made him grimace. "Stop touching, my wife before things get messy and I don't remember inviting you to sit over here."

"You invited us down here, birdman. Saw an empty seat and took it." Dabi gave him the middle finger without looking in the Yakuza Boss' direction. "Blow me."

Tomura snorted and laughed.

Overhaul growled. "As if I would ever stoop to such a low and vulgar suggestion asshole."

Mary felt more and more uncomfortable. She could feel and smell their anger, irritation and each feeling territorial. "To think returning to Japan to honor the union of our clans and engagement to Kai would result in this." She glances at the author. "Am I truly fated to Kai, Tomura and Touya?"

The author nods her head and crosses her arms. "Yup." Holding up her hand, pointing at Overhaul and counting off on her fingers, "Kai gets more funding and men towards his goal, plus marrying his sweetheart," smiling and glancing at the she-wolf, "you get a bigger family, friends and a house filled with children that you always wanted. It's a win-win."

"I get friends?" Mary asked in excited, ears perking up and tail wagging. "Pups of my own?"

Overhaul's golden gaze narrows in suspicion. "How do you know so much?" He's feeling uneasy, despite his calm and masked poker face; he doesn't like being left in the dark or the unknown, threat or otherwise.

Ignoring our sexy birdy, she points at Tomura. "Handyman gets a new teacher and a love interest though he won't admit it."

"Hey!"

Author points to Dabi. "Mister steal your girl, here, gets to shove his new status in his dad's face and closer towards his goal."

Dabi's turquoise eyes, brighten with interest. "Oh yeah?"

"Don't ignore me?!" Shigaraki and Overhaul snap at the same time.

"Well, that's all we have tonight." The author winks and giggles.

"Awe, come on, dollface. It's unfair to tease me like that." Dabi pouts.

"What do you mean I get a new master?" Shigaraki asks, confused and irritated. "I'm not a noob player!"

"Do you have a future seeing quirk?" Overhaul stood on his feet, air in room growing chilling, intimidating and dominant, demanding an answer as he fiddles with his glove. "Answer me, woman."

"Kai, you can't kill her. She won't be able to tell our story without her." Mary grabs his arm, rubbing it to try to soothe him.

"Thank you for reading our behind the scenes content on our messy Villains x Villainess romance. Feel free to ask questions, thank you and good night." She waved and blew kisses.

"Wait!" Shigaraki, Dabi and Overhaul yell as the lights turn off in the building.

Mary sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Mimics going to have a bitch fit."

---- end of Q&A 😉💕

Honestly, I wrote this on a whim 🤭 Hope y'all like it. Plus, I promised to give some more crumbles.

Whatcha think? Where our favorite MHA men true to character, or too out of character?

Feel like I don't mention Shiggy more often, whoops 😬 Ta-da! 😆

@slayfics @i-need-chisaki-redemption-arc @fanofflames @chainslobber @chisvki @xxchisakislittleangelxx @x-kiwi-03 @fabled-lady-twilla @madamebloodmoon @angelblueflame @nikki152006 @cherry-queens-blog @chisvki @fairymama624 @wtf-ask-baddie-overhaul @booksooks @doumadono @meeludrawz

What do y'all think?

[justdeich]

Oh boy oh boy overblot refs w @inquisiteur37

So Deich's overblot is based on Oswald the lucky rabbit + the blot from epic mickey.

Ver.2

If anyone interested oc info can be found here

Under the cut is me rambling abt overbloting and oc stuff I tried to put as much epic mickey refs as I could

I decided to mix them together because in the early concepts Oswald was supposed to be the main villain but it got changed and the blot got used instead. But in the game Oswald is still "kinda" a villain. Don't hit me I haven't played the game. I will. When epic mickey refurbished will come out.

The main reason for Deich's overblot would be jealousy and feeling useless/not being good enough???

Who wouldn't be sad. ya got transported to unknown place, get treated like trash and then, your friend seems to be adapting better than you. Look at them living life, new friends, new adventures, popularity, what fun.

And there's you. Didn't people forget that you gotta get home?? HELLO?? (Only in 7th chapter we really start to find info on how to get home soooo) You thought your friend will be there with you but no. They left you. For something better. But then you try to be as positive as they are, but you fail, you try to be helpful, it never works out, you try to regain control, but they seem.. to forget about you.. you were never enough. You don't belong. Never did.

Ya dont really wanna tell how you feel so not to bring the mood down..they seem.. so happy.. without you.. maybe its for the better...so it becomes a "habit" to just hide everything away and don't bring it up. You always managed to hide everything and be just fine. Just keep it up and you'll get through. What a "lucky habit" to have huh.

What great life they have huh. Do I get a chance to be a part of it?

Why does it hurt.. it hurts it hurts IT HURTS!! JUST MAKE IT STOP

I wanted Deich's overblot to be more destructive, to the body I mean. Deich been holding her feelings for a while. (i wanna make overblot happen in the 5th chapter. Or somewhere in that time period. For... romantic reasons..hehehe) ( Oswald trapping the blot reference) I think hiding singhs of ovebloting can lead up to some consequences.

Hiding symptoms of overblot may include: ink vomiting, hallucinations, body tremors- and maybe smth else, idk, need to think abt it.

Eee just sketches don't mind itttt it's baddd

Deich would get fully consumed by the fantom, (phantom blot. Get it?) like forcibly getting dragged. (Like how the blot takes away mickeys gang) Ya know, blot dripping, huge puddles of ink pooling everywhere.

The more you get corrupted by the blot the more sanity you loose? Right? I had this scene in mind where you're at the worst stage of blot but still try to communicate in a way, but the more you try to speak the more tortured you sound. Ink like acid running your vocal cords as more of it spills out, body tired from the amount of blot that covers your body but you still try to reach out.

[anamelessfool]

𝔓𝔞𝔭𝔞 ℭ𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔬 (1907-1983) and fic!

Reign 1942-1954, Satanic Bishop of New York City (1954-1983)

Everybody needs a mentor, especially delusional people like Young Nihil. So enter Papa Camino, a Papa Emeritus who is heavily influenced by Cab Calloway. (And is wearing an actual Schiaparelli silk tie from the 1950s) Notable Ghouls: Phantom, Dewdrop, Cumulus

The Path (AO3 Link)

GEN Young Nihil & OC Papa, Young Nihil & Family 3K Words

Tags: Mentor Figure, Deal With The Devil, Family Angst, 4 Year Old Primo Is In This One, This is Officially the Most Self Indulgent Fic I've Written and Yes I'm Including the Smut, Alternate History, Ghost Scenes from the Void AU, Ministry Lore and Dramaaaaa

1957, New York City: Bishop Camino always got what he wanted. And he wanted to share what he took from life with everyone he thought hungry enough to work for it. He was also a man who today invited Zero, of all the siblings in his care, to a private meeting in his office.

More Art and the Fic Below the Cut!

1957 New York City

Camino was a man who demanded what he wanted, and created for himself what he was denied. After his wildly successful tour as Papa Emeritus of the Satanic Church of the Void, he brought his expertise, his talent, and his cunning to his new post as the Satanic Bishop of New York City.

After the fourth rejection of his application to join the most prestigious gentlemen’s social club in the city (and it was definitely not because he was a Satanic Anti-Pope) Camino decided to run his own club out of the New York Ministry location. The music was hotter, the skirts were shorter and the booze flowed higher than the runoff in the gutters after a rainstorm.

The New York City chapter of the Satanic Church of the Void soon became less a place of organized worship and more the most chaotic and happening nightclub no one dared talk about in the sunshine. No act was denied, no artistic experiment too bizarre— almost twenty-four hours of the day there would be something to see for everyone. At two PM there could be a poetry reading for moody folks in black turtlenecks. At four PM was a 1920s Big Band Revival stint, six to ten PM Camino himself took command as bandleader. Midnight to two AM was reserved for drag shows. Often at three AM some interpretive dancer could be writhing on stage wrapped in tinfoil wailing about his daddy issues. It was vibrant, sometimes exhausting but never ever boring. Just like the Bishop.

And any high society man caught sneaking in would be promptly hogtied and left out in the alley with the rest of the trash.

Camino always got what he wanted. And he wanted to share what he took from life with everyone he thought hungry enough to work for it. He was also a man who today invited Zero, of all the siblings in his care, to a private meeting in his office.

As Zero sat uneasily in a plush armchair he could pick himself out from the posters and photographs covering the wood-paneled walls of the bishop’s office. He was often in the background— a blur holding a guitar, a trombone, hiding behind a mountain of drums. In six years Zero had become an established character in Camino’s church. He had stopped his rail-hopping life and settled in with a pretty blonde poetess, living just outside earshot of the church turned nightclub with a couple of potted plants and a young son. It surprised him how much he enjoyed the ebb and flow of a domestic existence. But then again, living and working in a place of constant change and noise and life and art is like wandering without ever leaving home.

“Brother Zero, I can hear your knees knocking from over here!” Bishop Camino closed the humidor cabinet and returned to his massive desk with a choice cigar. He winked his eye, his human eye. The Infernal Eye, his gift and his curse from his time as Papa, leered into Zero. It was as icy and silvery as the tools Camino used to delicately trim and light his smoke. “You'd know if you were in trouble! Relax, stay a while! How's junior?”

“Oh, swell, just swell,” said Zero, slowly uncurling himself in his seat.

“I got box seats at the Polo Grounds whenever you two want to see a game,” Camino replied. “Owner of the Giants owes me. Funny how many folks owe me, hm?”

“You're more than generous, all the time.” Zero couldn't help but feel a fondness for the man. “You helped me.”

“Alley cats are hungry, feed ‘em. Keeps the rats away. Now…” Camino noticed the smallest mote of dust on his suit, frowned deeply, and brushed it off. Camino never wore formal vestments outside of Mass, preferring instead a red silk suit with razor-sharp shoulders. Firstly because that was his look during his time as Papa Emeritus, and secondly because there was no one in New York City who would dare tell the bishop otherwise.

“Have you ever thought about the path?” He continued. Bishop Camino leaned back in his leather chair, settling in to a languid taste of his Cuban cigar. “I think you have what it takes to be Papa. Believe me, I know.”

Zero’s eyes widened, his mouth stretching open cartoonishly in shock. “You really think that?”

“Claro. Really. You've played in the house band many a time. You know more instruments than most, and catch on so quick. You're more Ghoul than man sometimes,” Camino chuckled. Zero had indeed performed for a few years in Camino's exclusive club for degenerates, and his saxophone playing was described as “a good start” which was a big compliment coming from the Bishop.

“Times are different. Big bands are out. Five pieces are in. More flexible. Digestible. What with television everywhere now.” Camino nodded. “Jazz clubs are gone, thing of the past. I'm not too proud to admit that.”

“Oh, you got more talent in your little finger than most in their whole body!” Zero piped up. “Don't sell yourself short!”

Camino gave him a wry look. “Hermano, I didn't say anything about that. Of course I'm talented. I'm the most talented motherfucker you ever saw. But times are changing. The Church needs fresh blood. And you'd be perfect for it. You got a face for television!”

Zero looked through the wooden blinds of the window, at the lines of taxis dutifully filing past. A limo turned the corner, its black and silver form sleek amongst the herd of yellow and checkerboard. Zero saw the shining sweep of the Rolls-Royce maiden perched on the hood, bowing low with her steel gossamer cloak frozen forever against the wind. A face for television, Zero thought. He never really had a television, or an actual home to plug any sort of luxury into since leaving Milwaukee, but everyone that did had the potential to see him. To hear his music. To see his face.

“That sounds swell, how would I even start?”

Camino grunted a laugh, his teeth gripping his cigar. From his place behind his massive desk he elegantly poured a finger of amber liquid from a crystal decanter into two equally opulent glasses. “Well, you have to let everyone know your intention. Even when you're not saying a word. Especially then. Your whole body must…vibrate…with that desire.”

Zero took a glass from him, nodding eagerly. “I can do that. I can vibrate with desire!”

“Naturally,” said Camino. “I'll put you in touch with Mother Imperator’s assistant, a em…a Sister Rebecca. She'll help me authorize a transfer and you can move to the heart of the Ministry.”

They clinked glasses, and Zero took a sip. It burned across his throat, tore a hole in his belly. He coughed in surprise, making every attempt to choke as politely as possible. “Move? There's somewhere else?”

“Yes, a few hours drive up north,” Camino replied. His perfectly sculpted thin moustache twitched as he frowned. “And how the hell you choking on that, boy? That's a goddamn forty year.”

Zero mumbled an apology, then felt Camino’s strong hand on his chin, jerking his face upwards for inspection. His hand was surprisingly soft, well manicured. The floral scent of hair oil drifted down from his clothing. The older man smirked, his eyes crinkling as thoughts passed through his mind. The Infernal Eye glared down at Zero from its socket in Camino’s skull, its glow removed from this realm, a separate entity also holding judgement towards him. He could have sworn the steely pinprick of a pupil moved independent from the human eye just across the bridge of the jazz singer’s nose. Zero swallowed. “Face for television,” Camino murmured, and with his other hand took a thoughtful sip of his own glass.

Zero stretched his mouth into a submissive smile. “Maybe.”

Camino gave Zero a rough pat, nearly a slap on the side of his face, and stepped away to pick up his cigar again. “Listen here, I sent my successor up to their headquarters, had them start meeting people, gather friends— boom! They're now Papa Emeritus and gaining traction in the charts every day. The trick…is to be underfoot.” Camino let out a satisfied puff of smoke. “Thing about that place is that running the Ministry is the only thing anyone can do up there in that godforsaken wilderness. So if you want something you're front and center!”

“But…moving?” Zero had just finally put roots down after a youth of wandering. He thought of Nance, of little Primo waiting for him back at their apartment. Nance with the baby on her lap as she sat by the plants on the fire escape, her red lips smiling contentedly out at the symphony of asphalt and blaring car horns.

“Fresh air, sunshine, forests and mountains,” said Camino. “Kids love it out there. At least I'm pretty certain they do.”

Camino was met with an awkward silence, and he settled into his chair, the leather offering a tired wheeze. “Yes, the city is difficult to leave,” Camino continued, steepling his fingers. He grinned. “Which is why I came back.” And promptly at midnight a town car would pick him up and drive him back to his home in Queens. “But, I've done my time, and did the work. I'm here to guide now. And I think you need to take bigger risks.”

“Nance loves it here. She was born here.” Zero smiled slightly into the middle space. “Primo was born here.”

“It's not easy raising a child in the city, believe me. My sisters complain enough. And me…well, I became a jazz singer.” He chuckled. “That tells you everything you need to know about that.”

“Could be good for junior,” Zero mused.

“Would be good for his old man too,” Camino replied with a wink. “You just say the word. I'm serious about you.”

Horns blared from outside on the street, followed by shouts and curses. The chauffeur of the Rolls-Royce rolled up up his sleeves and unbuttoned his vest as his cap fell on the sidewalk. Across from him, an equally irate taxi driver wrenched himself from the crumpled yellow door of his taxi. A woman was trapped in the back of the Rolls, hanging out the window and screeching while the rat-like dog in her arms barked. The taxi driver jumped across the hood of the limo and delivered a heavy-fisted crack to the chauffeur’s mug that Zero could hear all the way from his spot by the window. He winced as he unconsciously massaged the same place on his jaw. Camino clapped his hand across Zero’s shoulder, laughing, his lips peeled back over sharp white teeth in a roar of amusement. The Infernal Eye shone. “Fresh air and sunshine, hermano!”

-------

“Fresh air, sunshine, forests and mountains,” said Zero as he and Sister Nance held hands on a park bench and watched their young son totter around the steel playground. “Would be good for junior, yanno?”

“This sounds rehearsed,” Nance snorted, flashing him one of her elfin grins. “What's the deal? Why all of a sudden you want to move?”

Zero shrugged. “No deal. Just…need a change, maybe.”

“Zero, dear. Don't even try to lie to me.”

“Bishop Camino… thinks I should be Papa Emeritus.”

“You?” Nance made a face. “You haven't held a single job for more than a year. And you…want to run this whole thing? You want to be Papa?”

Zero frowned back, a little wounded but willing to fight. “None of those gigs were ever that interesting.”

“And you can't just up and walk away from this one,” Nance said. “No session musician or delivery boy or taxi driver ever had to commit his soul.” She tapped the place under her left eye. “Camino and the others…got a piece of their immortal soul committed to the Void. A chunk of it is just…it's just gone.”

That whitened eye of Camino burned in Zero’s brain once more. The sharp-toothed wicked grin, the bone-chilling tension of that pinprick pupil sliding across him and passing judgement. Zero had a face for television, sure— but Camino…Camino’s visage came from someplace else.

Like any blow he's ever taken, Zero shrugged it all off. “Wasn't using my immortal soul much anyway,” he chuckled.

“Goddamit Zero.” Nance crumpled into a fussy search of her coat for her silver cigarette case. He felt the cold air return to the palm of his now abandoned hand as it rested on the park bench.

Primo zoomed over from across the playground, falling into his mother’s arms. Irving Robert, really, but Primo was a better nickname for him than Uno.

“Push me on the swings?” asked their son, grinning under the hat Nance had knitted for him last week.

Nance cupped his face in her hands, smiling sweetly. “In a few minutes, Primo, your father and I are talking. But I bet you know how to do it yourself. We want to watch.”

“Oh, I can!”

“Good, now run! We're watching!” And Primo spun around and raced over to the swings across the park, leaving them for a few precious moments. Nance lit the cigarette in her mouth and took a drag, sighing on the exhale.

“Feels like the only thing that sticks in your brain are bad ideas, Zero,” Nance muttered. “I'm saying that affectionately.”

“You're one of ‘em,” he teased back, and she shoved him with a little laugh.

“Fine. You want to move to the Ministry Headquarters. Work right under Mother Imperator and Papa Emeritus and their whole shitty retinue.”

“And bring you along, of course,” Zero added in an attempt to reassure her. He was glad that she was even considering his idea now.

“I've been up there,” Nance continued. “Not much to do, so siblings get obsessive. I didn't want to stay long.”

“Obsessive?”

“Mother Imperator…” Nance stifled a laugh. “Absolute bag. A good hundred years old, easy. Refuses to speak anything but Italian. There's two siblings waiting for her to drop dead. Any day now, it feels.”

“Oh really now?” Zero mused, half listening.

“Sister Rebecca, for one. She went right to the top as the Dark Mother's Personal Assistant. Fluent in six languages, Italian especially. Comes from a bloodline of senators and government officials. Family's got mob money. She's next in line, for sure. And then there's…” Nance winced, as if an icy wind passed through her. “Maestra Eunice.”

“Oh, she's important?” Zero had seen her from time to time, conversing with Camino. Her hooded eyes, her deep scowl. He remembered her because he thought it a shame when blondes scowled like that. And Camino always looked queasy after their meetings.

“Leader of the Conclave,” Nance explained. “Old, old Ministry family. She's been shuffled around. She doesn't make too many friends.” Nance smiled crookedly. “And Rebecca would easily cut her throat in her sleep if Eunice doesn't get to Rebecca first. It's no good out there. Too heavy while those two wait for old Imperator to croak. You really want to live in the middle of that?”

“Two broads in a spat,” stated Zero. He figured early on that if there were two women left on the entirety of this Earth they still would think the other was talking behind their back.

“One has the keys to the entire global network of our Church, the other the deepest understanding of the magic that comes from the Void,” said Nance. “These are the two broads no one wants to stand in between.”

“Who says I have to stand between ‘em? I can make my music. And that's all I got to do.”

“There's no budging you, is there.”

“Camino…believes in me.” It was the first sincere thing Zero had said in a long while, and it left his heart with a wrenching whine that was carried through into his voice. It held such a sad little timbre that Nance shifted in her seat to look at him. “He believes in what I do.”

Zero knew few people in his life ever put their faith in him. Teachers thought him stupid. Fellow tramps on the road thought he was easy pickings. Not even his own father had much to do with him; his father, who's only belief was in his own ability to pick winning dogs at the track.

“You got to take risks on what you believe,” Zero added as she continued to contemplate his expression.

“But…moving…”

“Six years is the longest I've been in a single place,” announced Zero. He wanted to add “and loved someone”, but the thought felt intrusive and not at all something Nance wanted to hear. She knew his feet got restless if he sat for too long. She had been good to him, good for him, and he owed her his affection.

Nance grabbed his hand, turning his attention to look into her soft brown eyes. “Robert,” she began quietly, and she only used his real name when she wanted him to really listen. “What about your son? Robert…what about me?”

“I want to live my dream,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips. “And my dream includes you. And Primo. I…I promise I'll do right. You know I always try to do right.”

Nance smiled faintly back. “You always try,” she said quietly. “I can't argue with that. I'm happy…you found someone else who believes in you.”

“Mo-om!” Primo called to them both from his place on the swings, his arms and legs dangling as his body lay across the steel seat.

Nance got up and dropped her smoke to the ground, crushing it underfoot. “Just…give me a few days to think about it."

Zero gave her a thin smile as he watched her cross the playground. He felt he had moved the pieces in the way he wanted them, needed them to move. And he was pretty sure of the rules of the game, so how hard would all of this be? Except he felt a queasiness now instead of relief. The feeling of his words being more of a wager than a sign of honesty hung about his shoulders. He had the faint memory of being on the other side of that conversation. And in those moments what he thought was a promise, was really only a way to buy time.

It would be well worth it in the end, he assured himself. Good ideas always are, and Camino had said himself how much of a good idea Zero was. Zero got to his feet, brushing off his knees as his good-natured smile returned to his face. There was nothing to worry about. He always came out on top. He always pulled through, and folks always leant him a helping hand. And of course he'd always support Nance, and Primo. He promised her and so he owed her. What more is a promise than an IOU to someone else?

Funny how many folks owe me, said Camino as his dead eye flashed. Great men are owed. And Zero was ready to be a lender.

My Fic List | My AO3 | More Domestic Fics

Papa Camino & Dewdrop, Phantom Fic

[askfischoeder]

Story: Winter Coffee Date

Content Warning: Mentions of Smoking

Characters: @imagination-phantom (Self-insert OC, Ana) and Calvin Fischoeder (Mentions Linda Belcher)

Artist Credit: @spider-finder (Me!)

Seymour’s Bay, New Jersey

December

Calvin’s breath hitched in his throat as the cold air blasted against his cheek when he exited the shop beside Bob’s. A quaint little coffee shop, he held in his hands a small cardboard drink carrier, hoping the two coffees inside were of good quality. He’d forgotten to test them before leaving.

No matter. There was no time to waste. After all, he had somebody waiting on him. He hadn’t been able to start his electric cart before leaving the mansion this morning. Regretfully, he’d had Felix to drop him off at the Wharf. It made today feel even more pleasant on his old joints. But he would persist, as he always did.

He turned his head slightly toward the tiny burger joint as he passed by. The kids were missing, but Linda was hard at work doing… something decor-related. At least, that’s what he imagined, seeing her standing on top of the counter as he shifted his gaze forward. Calvin had to make haste—but the cold air continued to invade his windpipe, threatening to freeze him from the inside out.

He pulled out his pocket watch with numbing fingers, checking the time. After taking a mental note, he continued on his way until he was stopped outside a small store. He glanced down at his phone, re-reading her previous message:

[Meet me outside of Reflections! I’ll be out in just a minute, I promise.]

“Reflections… reflections…” Calvin muttered, clicking his tongue as he looked around aimlessly.

Then he saw it across the street. He stuffed down a groan of dismay and crossed the lightly snow-covered ground, each step crunching underfoot. Just as he reached for the door handle, it slowly pushed open. Bright eyes met his instantly.

“Well, it’s about time!” Ana teased softly, as he brought the coffee into view, carefully inspecting the “A” messily drawn on the side of the cup with a Sharpie. He pulled the cup from its holder and pressed it into her hand, gesturing for her to start walking with him. He was amused by her playful nature. It was one of the reasons he’d fallen in love with her to begin with.

“You’re parked where you normally are, I presume?” he asked, glancing at her reddening cheeks as she gave a polite nod. Calvin discarded the carrier into a hungry-looking trash can as they passed, his pace much slower than she was used to. But over time, she had slowed down for him.

“You’ve got… erm, it says on the side of your cup… I have a… white chocolate mocha,” he purred, bringing his own cup up to his lips for a taste.

Darn, they wouldn’t last long at that location. The coffee was expensive but delicious. Calvin made a mental note to text his little brother, Felix, about it before turning his attention back to her.

“Ana, love. What do we have planned for today? Something warm, I’d hope?” Calvin asked, his need for some sense of structure—or a promise to get him out of the cold—biting at his words. He had replaced his white tuxedo cover with a thick, heavy plush coat that was as light a pink as his usual undershirt. Faint traces of his tie and vest were still visible beneath the layers. Calvin followed behind her, sipping at his drink, thankful when they reached her car and she started it up. He carefully placed his coffee in the cup holder before shutting the door and bracing himself against it.

“I’m going to smoke while it warms up,” he mentioned softly, pulling out his lighter and ornate sterling silver cigarette case, adapted for his needs. The smoke had a faint scent of cherry pie as he lit it, warming his frozen lungs. He took a long drag, looking over at her with a smile cracking across his face as she moved closer. His arms draped around her, pulling her into his chest.

“Keep me warm…” he teased with a soft whine.

Calvin’s height difference meant he could take a hit above her head, keeping his hand away from her so that the smoke didn’t reach her as she nestled into his chest. Beneath the many soft layers, he was warm. His other hand found its way to her back, rubbing soothing patterns as if mending felt. It didn’t take long before he was dropping the cigarette into the snow, hissing as it burned and melted. He made sure to flick it once before bending down to pick it back up and place it into a different section of the cigarette case, reluctantly letting her frame go.

“Well! Are you ready? Let’s head out!” he teased again, as if he hadn’t been the cause of their delay.

[risualto]

Fic Writers' 20 Questions

I was tagged by @lumeha. Thank you!

1) How many works do you have on AO3? 117, apparently.

2) What's your total AO3 word count? 146,273. That's less than I thought. I really should work on writing some more hahaha.

3) What are your top five fics by kudos? Support (And Other Ways to Make Friends) [FE3H] "Cheated" [YGO] "Unseen" [Danny Phantom] "Concrete Faith" [Pathologic] "Of Cats and Ribbons" [Fairy Tail]

4) What fandoms do you write for? As you can kind of see from the above, just...a lot of anime and video games. I was a bit sad none of my top 5 were FF14, but then I remembered that I actually haven't published any of Inky's stories on AO3. Besides, OC ship fics usually don't get as many hits, so they probably wouldn't be on that list...most of the ones that are there only have so much attention because they're old. Or, in the case of "Concrete Faith," because it's kinky.

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes, I always respond to comments. It means a lot that someone took the time to write to me about their thoughts, so I try to write back.

6) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? If we don't include micro-stories, then this is probably a toss-up between "Ashes, Ashes," and "Descent." I don't really write sad endings because I don't usually like them. It's not what I want out of fiction.

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I can't possibly choose. Most of my stories have happy endings. I'm not sure I can meaningfully rank them.

8) Do you get hate on fics? No, thankfully.

9) Do you write smut? Yes, but most of it doesn't get published under this pen name. Someday I'd like to change that, but we'll see.

10) Do you write crossovers? Theoretically, sure, if the crossover is compelling enough. I don't think I've published anything that was explicitly a crossover, though...?

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of. I'm sure it's happened, though, especially since I took a little too long to lock my fics behind the sign-in requirements.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, a couple of times.

13) Have you ever cowritten a fic before? Lumeha and I had a pretty compelling post-Patho-2 world, but it was never published. I've been part of collaborative projects before, but I don't think I've published anything that was cowritten, exactly. Anything I write that features Helvi/Rinoire (@sayonaramidnight) or Aurelle/T'Nali (@orime-stories) or Kaede (no active tumblr) is technically co-written, though, since I'm borrowing their characters. I've written fics featuring other people's OCs for Speaker as well.

14) What's your all time favourite ship? I don't know. I couldn't choose. Maybe I'm just too tired and this is a cop-out answer, but there are too many ships I like that are important to me for different reasons.

15) What's the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I don't keep a lot of WIPs. If I can't finish a project for some reason, I tend to trash it. If I start writing something, I do my best to see it through.

16) What are your writing strengths? I think I'm pretty good at writing dialogue and conveying emotion. Sometimes I even get inspired with some good similes.

17) What are your writing weaknesses? I really struggle with different tone styles. All of my writing has a semi-serious narrative voice, even when my POV character shouldn't necessarily be like that. Writing as Inky has helped me a little in that regard, but I still struggle adapting my narrative voice to different genres. I could never write pure comedy, for example.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I don't know if this means writing the dialogue in another language and leaving it in that other language, or using another language to write the dialogue. Generally, I think I currently come down on the side of, there must be a really good in-universe reason for dialogue in another language to be notated in that other language (or a romanized approximation). If the POV character can understand what's being said, I think the dialogue should be written in the same language as the rest of the fic with a notation that the speaker is using a different one, recognized by the listener. If the POV character can't understand, then I don't think there's much to be gained by writing out syllables they probably can't even think of in their own linguistic terms--unless, for example, you really want the dramatic irony for people who also speak the language in question, or maybe if there's some kind of untranslatable phrase that holds specific value, (e.g. Keelah se'lai in Mass Effect) or something similar. There are also cases where dialect mixing and language evolution might make it reasonable for a character who primarily speaks Dwarvish to know a few Elven words and mix them into their own speech...or with real-world language, sometimes I choose not to translate honorifics specifically, but it really depends on the tone of the story and the target audience.

Tl;dr I think it's a little silly to just write a whole sentence in another language if the POV character doesn't understand it.

That said, I also tend to sometimes translate my dialogue into another language, then re-translate it back to force myself to think about what is REALLY important about what's being said. It's also a bit like the "turn everything to comic sans" trick to catch typos--if dialogue is sounding awkward, switching to another language sometimes gets things un-stuck.

19) First fandom you wrote for? Neopets.

20) Favourite fic you've ever written? I can't choose.

I will tag (if you like!) @orime-stories @sayonaramidnight @undyingembers @captainofthefallen @queen-scribbles @dragonologist-phd and @clefaiiiry.

[posiden1234567]

Two ocs for @elmushterri 's PJ Masks GunnTech AU because I said so and it's my blog so my rules. If you have a problem file a complaint with the complaint department (trash can).

Name: Chris King

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Appearance: long dyed purple hair, pale skin, blue eyes

Personality: manipulative, money-obsessed, flirtatious, suave, smug

Code Name: Jade Serpent

Occupation: Pawn Shop employee, Phantom Thief

Affiliation: Himself

Backstory: Chris has always been obsessed with gaining things for a price. So his family running a pawn shop only made him giddy. He started working in the pawn shop at 15 and picked things up immediately. Chris started seeing things he very much thought would make a LOT of money so he asked his uncle for help. And his uncle, being an irresponsible scientist, said 'Yep. I'm helping my teenage nephew steal something to test out my new tech'. So he became the Jade Serpent and began stealing things for high paying clients. Even helping the other villains simply because they can offer valuable objects as collateral. So far he has never been caught and hasn't ever had anything he's stolen taken back. He's that good. In normal life he likes flirting with Connor for no reason other than he wants to. Also in BOTH times of day Chris as Chris and Jade Serpent called Connor/Catboy 'Kitty' but Connor hasn't put two and two together. (Because I think it's funny).

Now for oc 2

Name: Matt Lewis

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Appearance: long dirty blond hair he keeps in a ponytail, pale skin, blue eyes

Personality: smug, sarcastic, no filter, brutally honest, too be honest a genius in inventing and science

Code Name: Sapphire Racoon

Occupation: Inventor, Bounty Hunter

Affiliation: Himself

Backstory: Matt has always been brilliant and even was able to invent multiple machines that he only used for himself because he had no reason to share them with the public. So he moved on to also experimenting with scientific compounds. But some of them needed human test subjects and since he didn't have anyone to test them on one day he tested one of the compounds on himself. Which caused his right arm to turn black as it gathered something he's calling 'Corruption' which is also affecting him mentally. He zones out as the corruption slowly drives him crazy and he snaps at anyone who tries to touch his corrupted arm. Which he OBVIOUSLY covers with a glove. So now he hunts down criminals and anonymously gathers the money so that he can pay for other compounds to cure him. But he also tends to steal machine components in case he needs a machine to cure him instead of a compound. So he has a reason for our heroes to want to catch him.

[sable-roteuth]

Some agents from yesterday

[citsune13]

Been having a hard time with art and finally really getting back into it. I did the expression meme by MagicalPouch and had my friends suggest characters.

Names below the cut

Left to right, top to bottom are-

Megamind, Drome (OC), Gabbie (OC), Rainbow Dash, Jazz Fenton, Mikey

Tret Clover, Pablo (OC), Blake Belladonna, Weiss Schnee, Purple (AU), Yuri

Sydney (OC), Kierian (OC), Danny Phantom, Foxglove (OC), Megumi Fushiguro, Major Armstrong

Audrey, Telescope (OC), Susie Cambell (AKA. Alice Angel), Penny Polendina, Ruby Rose, Jax

Kierian (OC), Yang Xiao-Long, Trash (OC), Ochaco Uraraka, Josh (OC), Donnie (AU)

[ghostiidasponk]

Yall I decided to make my oc be grim 2.0 by making her eat the most obscure shit ever {twst book 6 spoilers} warning: very ugly and scuffed

So what if she ate the phantoms idk

trash oc rot but like imagine the scene where jamil was abt to get attacked by a phantom but leona went nuh uh? that but it happens again while they were arguing but Hisui went yum yum

(hisui is mostly too busy chomping on snacks {phantoms} to pay attention to them-- IN THE NAME OF CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!! but they interact too ig)

[seeyouonsaturn]

:3c 💖

17. which ocs stop what they’re doing to pay attention to someone else? which ocs continue working?

19. which ocs are absolutely uninterruptable when working?

39. which ocs set multiple alarms? which only need one? which don’t set alarms at all?

44. which ocs have the best senses (sight, smell, taste, hearing, and touch)?

47. which ocs use the “wrong” dishes for things purely to spite others who can’t stand it? (like drinking coffee off a plate)

ask game

17. which ocs stop what they’re doing to pay attention to someone else? which ocs continue working?

For Phantom/Bird, it depends on who it is. She's usually very focused on her work and doesn't like distractions, but if it's a superior (Phantom) she knows better than to ignore them, and if it's a friend (Bird) she might grant them attention, depending on what they want. She'll be mildly annoyed if they disturbed her for no good reason though.

Skyline's the type to drop everything and give you her full attention. Genuinely interested in whatever you have to say too. She's too nice.

19. which ocs are absolutely uninterruptable when working?

Havoc. In a medical emergency, she locks tf in. She's performed emergency surgery in the middle of an active battlefield. Havoc does not give a fuck. The entire building could be on fire and she'd still be welding someone's leg back on with perfect precision.

Bluescreen sort of falls into this category too, she does get really into her hacking once she's on a roll. Until Lugnut enters the room and her processor just dies.

39. which ocs set multiple alarms? which only need one? which don’t set alarms at all?

Ash sets a million alarms and still oversleeps. You're not getting them out of bed. They'll sleep through the apocalypse and then wake up wondering where everyone went.

Trixie would never set an alarm. That said, she doesn't wake up either. She just doesn't care. No event or person is important enough to make her miss her beauty sleep. The world waits for HER.

Bird is the lightest sleeper you've ever met. She doesn't need an alarm. The moment some bird in the vicinity only thinks about chirping, she's up.

Havoc is the type of maniac who only has one singular alarm and actually gets up the moment it rings. How are you doing that girl.

44. which ocs have the best senses (sight, smell, taste, hearing, and touch)?

Razormane! Predacons are built different. She got all the cat skills, including night vision and enhanced senses.

Bluescreen's eyes may not be particularly special, but her visor can function as a magnifier. It's what makes her an excellent sharp shooter. The scope is built-in.

47. which ocs use the “wrong” dishes for things purely to spite others who can’t stand it? (like drinking coffee off a plate)

This feels like such a Trixie thing. I don't even know how she'd do it considering she gets all her stuff in bowls now, but she definitely used to back on her home planet just to piss people off. (Lapping coffee from a doggy bowl is such a mood too though).

Aside from that, Wildside does this too, but not to spite people, just because she thinks it's fun. Plus, whenever she needs a dish, she'll just use whatever the heck Wreck-Gar just pulled out of his trash. If it's bowl-shaped, it's a bowl. She doesn't care. He's the same way. Neither of them has ever used a utensil for its intended purpose. Bestie are you sipping energon from a dented tuba?

[theleslistuff]

✨Much more ramblings✨

Fic analysis obviously 🦜: We're Phantoms review! (Yes finally finished the whole thing a second time and I'm so excited about it like if it was the first time 💖)

Like always warning of spoilers

💫A bond fragile as glass but stronger than stone📝

Personal review (you can skip this,this is about me being emotional about a fic); Indeed I finally finished to read both fics once more and I must say first of all; the course of years has made this even better, I remember beginning to read this when I was 13 and now that I have 24, many things have changed (and most importantly... I'm not an angsty teen anymore who only wanted tragedy and skipped many chapters because of a happy title or premise), this has been quite a beautiful experience, I could say enchanting and a emotional rollercoaster that left a deep mark on me (as you can see in my content), it was a fanfic that even made me realize my personal career and I'm glad to have read this and thankful to Darkfoxkit and other collaborators that made this possible, it may have not been finished yet as it still has missing the season 2 movie in We're Phantoms and a whole new fic about season 3 but I'm still happy with what we got so far 💖.

General review: Now straight to the business... While I love this fic and I want to talk about how good it is, I think I will do it in order, going between the good points and bad ones to end with a personal score;

- Premise; Danny Fenton has a twin brother called Andy and we get to see a Whole alternative universe from his perspective as he tries to understand and help his brother as much as he can (premise of both My brother is a ghost and we're phantoms)

I'll be honest, this is both the strongest point while also the weakest one since it doesn't seem too attractive at first sight due the infamy of fics like this being total trash because this kind of fics usually come with the most nasty and overpowered Mary Sues and Gary Stus out in many fandoms (I love even Darkfoxkit made fun of those fics in an actual chapter), but this has a nice surprise with it as Andy is a fully human OC in the beginning of this saga who slowly grows out of his fears and doubt to strange situations around him

Personal thing; I got pretty much bad experiences with this kind of premises, so I'll be honest... Whenever I used to see the name of the first fic; "My brother is a ghost" in my dash of fanfiction I would scroll away until one day I read the premise even further and I decided to give it a try because I saw something most of this kind of fics didn't have... Opportunity for character development ✨

And to prove my point...

Okay now that we got the premise, there will be heavy spoilers past this point.

Character development; The strongest point of the fic is making the characters act like what their character is supposed to be in the series, for example;

Vlad; he's meant to be an evil genius, so he acts like one, doing whatever it takes to have his goals archived like how the original Danny phantom series tried to say but due the restrictions on TV shows or just lazy writing they always made Vlad hold back or do something stupid and out of character to make him lose, in this fic you can feel actual struggle from our protagonist, as well as certain empathy towards him because as he's totally capable of even killing for his selfish goals, he's willing to help and even be a properly fatherly figure for both Danny and Andy when they need him the most showing brilliantly the duality of this man whose obsession is literally love, we see his skyrocket downfall to insanity and it feels natural yet heartbreaking thinking about the many... What could have been?...

Rhythm; this fic is slow burn but it's totally worth it since there's almost no filler episodes and the few filler episodes have important details or bonding between characters that will be important in the future.

Now enough blabber about the fanfic, now let's head straight where my title promises...

The relationship between Danny Fenton and Andy Fenton

The relationship between those two is one of the most painfully realistic relationship between siblings I've seen in fics but with a nice touch of eternal sweetness since yes, they're growing, have their own struggles and doubts, but there's an unbreakable bond between them telling one will always be with the other, yet... They're each other's worst fear.

Andy is quite cold and direct to say facts, having his life lead by reason, fear and logic rather than his heart and it's both a strength and weakness for him as he's unable to reach his full potential since he has attributes of a great leader since his methods work and he's a caring and selfless person, maybe at the end of We're Phantoms he has fears and doubts but at least he can live with them (this boy fits so much trauma and phobias but can't handle it) and has come to peace with his mental scars, they may not be gone, but now they can't totally paralyze him in fear, though because of his own fears of hurting other he ironically makes things worse with people around him, specially Danny, I think it's exactly when he's relaxing and having a good time with Danny his mind is more overwhelmed with thoughts and fears about corrupted Danny and randomly brings it up, occasionally hurting Danny, still I feel ironically despite having a stronger look, he's the most sensitive and fragile between the two brothers since even things Danny has already forgotten, still affect him for a really long time.

Danny in this fics is ironically one of the sweetest versions of Danny, even his most evil versions like Dan and corrupted Danny are quite playful and keep trying to get close to Andy (Danny needs a hug and Andy is the one who gives him hugs 💖), I even find it kinda funny to see corrupted Danny is mostly like a kitten in the universe where Andy is corrupted and by his side, we know Danny is such a mess and the whole phandom loves him for that, with so much angst on his fics, this version is actually wholesome to see him actually getting rest, good grades, being less grumpy and yes, this Danny is quite liminal (it scares the hell out of Andy) but he doesn't suffer from it since he has someone going through the same he can rely on, though... I actually feel he is kinda scared of Andy, not because of the possibility of him hurting Danny but in a contrary sense, Danny is afraid of losing Andy and feeling alone, he's even quite uncomfortable when he's not around (poor baby wants to keep clinging onto someone who cares for him and understands him) and that fear has become an insecurity whenever he's around Andy (since he constantly brings it up if Danny acts slightly different from usual whenever if he's just having a bad day or he got really traumatized by something and is being snappy), he's patient with Andy because him over thinking has been something good in battle but he sometimes gets tired of basically Andy calling him a monster and snaps back (even if he just imagines it).

[twistedtummies2]

Where do you get the ideas for your twst ocs? I know they're all from disney, but how do you come up with the ideas to do the characters?

If you mean, "How do I figure out the characters' backstories and so forth," then the answer is "a lot of brainstorming, research, and bothering people to help me out." XD

If you mean how do I decide to turn X character into an OC...all of my TW characters were kind of created for different reasons.

Nakoda, for example, I initially just created to be the antagonist in another story: he was my first major OC, and he wasn't even MEANT to become a big deal. However, in the process of writing that first story, I kind of fell in love with the character, so I kept him around and eventually developed him further.

Billy happened because I wanted to create a TW story based on "Jack and the Beanstalk." The way I saw it, I could do that one of two ways: either creating an AU with me choosing characters to be giants and others to be Jack surrogates (which I later did with another franchise I love, My Hero Academia), or I could create my own OC to play the giant. Obviously, I went with the latter option, and I chose Willie the Giant as inspiration because he basically seemed like the best and most obvious choice.

Elias and James (and, by extension, Smitty) were created just because I wanted to create characters based on the Phantom Blot and Captain Hook (and Smee) pretty much since the game came out. It just took me a while to figure out what to do with them. Theodore was KIND OF similar: in his case, it's a bit more complicated. When I first imagined Theodore, I had been recently forced to drop plans for a commission set in the world of Oz, and I had been really disappointed because - beyond all else - I wanted to write for the Wicked Witch of the West. I couldn't think of any other way to manage the character beyond that failed scheme. Then it occurred to me, I could just create my own Witch character for the TW universe and come up with my own stories around them.

Maelstrom, Reno, and Grit...I'm going to be blunt and honest, they were specifically created because of kinks. XD All of them were cases of me taking characters I'd had a pred crush on in the past, but either that crush had faded (in the case of Oogie Boogie) or I just found the original characters next to impossible to write for on their own terms (in the case of Monstro and the Nome King). So I then figured, why not just take those old flames and reinvent them my own way into characters I could hopefully write for in the future?

On that note, one commonality with nearly all of them is that they allow me to play with characters I normally wouldn't care for that much in "that way," and find ways to MAKE THEM fit my kinks and concepts better. For example, with Billy, I'm not PERSONALLY into Willie the Giant "that way" (even though he has PLENTY of merits there; I can understand why others would be). Billy allows me to take the things I like about Willie as a character, and sort of put my own spin and find ways to make him more "my thing." Similarly, Kaa I personally find to be an overrated and overused pred option; Nakoda allows me to have my own sort of spin on the ideas and do something that allows me to both make fun of the stuff I find silly about Kaa, and also play with the things I genuinely find appealing and attractive at the same time. Again, they're just two examples. XD But aside from Maelstrom, Reno, and Grit, none of the characters were created specifically with kinks and crushes in mind. Those elements just kind of happened because...well...it's me writing them and creating them, and my mind is made of horrible trash. So sue me. :P

[calamity-aims]

20 questions!

thanks for the tags @gaeasun @saltsanford @purgetrooperfox <3 love you guys

How many works do you have on AO3?

75

What’s your total AO3 word count?

238,592 (ooh I'mma celebrate when I hit a quarter million)

What fandoms do you write for?

mostly Star Wars! I wrote fic for some other fandoms early on but we don't talk about those

What are your top five fics by kudos?

your heartbeat's a countdown - crack fic in which the Jedi know the clones are a trap and try to avoid them at all costs

Necessary - a whumpy Voltron Klance fic I wrote after the first season (before the show went to hell)

their days are darker - in which Wolffe doesn't know how to drop anything and Fox is having the worst two days of his life

the broken-hearted rang their steeple bells - tropey Witcher kinkmeme fill that for some baffling reason has tons of kudos

exploitation, hesitation - short oneshot in which Fox assumes General Kenobi is just like his natborn superior officers and reacts accordingly

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I used to reply to every single one (unless it was just emojis) but then I fell off and now I feel bad :( I read them all though! and they are so treasured! one day I will make it through the backlog

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ooh see despite writing a lot of angst, I almost always write happy endings, so maybe I'll take no gold, I'll take no silver (please read the tags on that one). maybe spit some blood at the camera is pretty sad too, actually

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

all of them!! yayyyy! even if it's not spelled out, I usually resolve things because that's the world I want to live in! every fic is a fix-it fic

Do you get hate on fics?

not really, mostly just people asking when I'm going to finish, although I have seen people complaining that my version of Fox/Corries is banal and overdone which like yeah. I agree. but my brain won't let me move on.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

hell yeah I do! I don't know what "what kind" means - I write characters fucking, never x reader and rarely OCs; and it's usually somewhat kinky because I just can't not

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I've written a few fusions/AUs - elysium is as far as to is a Gladiator AU, everyone wants a double feature is a Pacific Rim AU, and more human than human is a Bladerunner AU. but I've never done a straight-up crossover, although there are a few bouncing around in my brain (namely, the GAR joins the Decepticons and another where Boromir meets Rex and falls in love)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yeah I've had real problems with people plagiarizing fics, from lifting whole sections of dialogue to copying really specific scenes

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope, but one got a podfic

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

yeah I cowrote hold me like a grudge and sometimes a parrot talks (unfinished) with the fabulous @postapocalyptic-cryptic!

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

oh man. I love Quinlan/Fox to death. but I will admit that I was Stucky trash from the very beginning.

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

ooh there's a lot. Mace/Fox fic, sometimes a parrot talks, deaged Corries, chroma...

What are your writing strengths?

hm. I don't know. I think I'm good at characterization and dialogue?

What are your writing weaknesses?

fukcin plot beyond "there is hurt and then there is comfort". and also explaining more about people's emotions, like, I know what they're feeling but I need to tell other people

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I just use google translate, I'm sorry

First fandom you wrote for?

oh boy oh fuck. The first fandom I ever wrote for was Phantom of the Opera when I was in eighth grade. go ahead and laugh

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

uhhh. aaa? um. probably unexplain the unforgivable, but I also really liked how a once and future sun turned out

no pressure tags for @postapocalyptic-cryptic @meerlichtz @milfmisspiggy @catboydogma @jaigeye