#Waveform (oc)

[psi-kings-sensorium]

more fankid stuff

[magic-shop-stories]

Hey there! I just read Yoongi as a father, and I absolutely loved the way you wrote the emotions—it hit me right in the heart! Your writing is so immersive, and I was wondering if I could request something? Could you write a scenario where one of the BTS members (maybe Yoongi or Namjoon?) finds the reader/OC completely at rock bottom like emotionally and physically drained, feeling utterly hopeless but instead of letting them push him away, he slowly helps them heal? I’d love to see that transition from heavy angst to the softest, most comforting fluff, with lots of patience, late-night talks, and maybe some found family vibes. Just something that makes the reader feel safe again.

No pressure at all, but I’d love to see your take on this! Thank you so much, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

💌 Reply:

Ahh, thank you so much for your kind words! I'm really happy that Yoongi as a father resonated with you, it means a lot! This request immediately tugged at my heart, and I knew I had to write it. There's something powerful about someone refusing to leave when you feel like not being saved. I poured a lot of emotion into this, and I hope it gives you that deep angst and quiet, healing comfort you were looking for. Sending you lots of love! 💜

REQUEST NAME:

when the silence breaks

↳ Yoongi x Reader (Platonic/Close Friends/More?); Angst with Fluff,

Rating: M

Word Count: ~3.7k

Genre: Angst with Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Slow Healing, Slow Burn

Warnings: Depression, self-neglect, suicidal ideation (implied past attempt), emotional breakdown, dissociation, guilt, recovery themes, strong language

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Platonic)

Featuring: Stubborn but deeply caring Yoongi, raw emotions, slow recovery, acts of service as love, quiet but unwavering support, and a hoodie that carries too much history

The last time you saw Yoongi, he’d snapped.

It wasn’t his fault, not really. But guilt doesn’t care about fairness.

You’d dragged yourself to his studio that night, a ghost in his stolen hoodie, the one he’d shrugged off weeks ago and never asked for back. The fabric still carried traces of his cologne, but now it clung to you like a second skin, sour with sweat and three days of unmoving air. Your hair hung in greasy strands, and your socks didn’t match, though you couldn’t remember when you’d last bothered to look. The walk there had been a blur of flickering streetlights and sidewalk cracks, each step heavier than the last.

Yoongi’s studio was a tomb of soundproofing foam and tangled cables, the air thick with the musk of coffee grounds and sleeplessness. He was hunched over his desk, fingers flying across the mixing board, eyes bloodshot. The monitors glowed like twin moons, casting his face in pallid blue. You hovered in the doorway, the hoodie’s sleeves swallowing your trembling hands, and waited for him to notice you.

He didn’t. Not until you choked out his name.

“Yoongi...”

Your voice was a rusted hinge. He jerked, pulling his earbuds out, and for a heartbeat, his face softened, the way it always did when he saw you, like you were a song he’d forgotten he loved. Then the deadlines came crashing back.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing his temple. A half-empty energy drink trembled near his elbow. “Didn’t know you were stopping by. Everything okay?”

You wanted to scream.

Instead, you mumbled about the therapy, the sessions that left your thoughts gauzy and your hands steadier, until they didn’t. “They’re… not working. I can’t... I keep...”

“Can this wait?” he interrupted, already turning back to the screen. “I’m up against a wall here, and Joon needs this track by...”

You didn’t hear the rest.

The world narrowed to the hum of his computer, the flicker of the waveform on the monitor, the way his shoulders tensed as he dove back into the mix. You stood there, shrinking under the weight of your own need, until the silence grew teeth.

Then you left.

The walk home was a fever dream. Rain slithered down your neck, but you barely felt it. Your phone buzzed once in your bag, a voicemail, you’d learn later, where his voice cracked over “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...” but you let it die, buried under a crumpled tteokbokki container and a mountain of unopened letters.

Your apartment was a museum of ruin. The ceiling fan hadn’t spun in weeks. A coffee mug lay shattered by the door, its shards glittering like misplaced stars. You’d thrown it last Tuesday, or maybe Wednesday, when the silence got too loud. Now you curled on the couch, his hoodie pulled over your knees, and stared at the cracks in the ceiling. They twisted into shapes: a frowning mouth, a fractured heart, a question mark you couldn’t answer.

Yoongi had a key.

You’d given it to him after the incident, that night he’d found you on the bathroom floor, your fingers curled around nothing, the tiles cold against your cheek. He’d called 119, then held your hand in the ambulance, his grip tighter than the IV needle in your arm. “You don’t get to leave,” he’d hissed, voice raw, as if anger could stitch you back together. “Not like this.”

He’d never used the key without asking. Not even when you vanished for days, when your texts went gray and your curtains stayed shut.

Until now.

The door creaked open on a Thursday afternoon, slicing through the gloom with a blade of hallway light.

You didn’t move. Couldn’t. The hoodie’s collar muffled your breathing, but your heart—traitor, loudmouth—pounded like a fist against glass.

You were curled into the couch’s sunken cushions, drowning in the hoodie’s oversized sleeves. Light flooded the room, harsh and clinical, and you recoiled like a creature unearthed from soil, yanking the hood over your face. The fabric almost scratched your cheeks, rough with salt from dried tears.

“Jesus,” Yoongi muttered, his voice frayed at the edges.

You listened to him navigate the wreckage, the crunch of chip bags under his boots, the soft clink of glass shards being swept into a dustpan. His shadow stretched across the floorboards, warped and elongated by the naked bulb, and you braced for the inevitable. For the “Look at this mess” or “What the hell happened to you?”

But he said nothing.

Instead, he knelt. The floor groaned under his weight, and you felt the couch dip as he leaned closer. Calloused fingers brushed the hood’s edge, tentative, as if you might dissolve at his touch. You stiffened, but he didn’t stop, tugging the fabric down until the cold air bit your face.

His breath hitched, a sharp, wounded sound.

You knew what he saw. The hollows under your eyes, bruised like overripe fruit. The split lip you’d gnawed raw. The scar on your wrist, pale and jagged, peeking from the hoodie’s cuff like a whispered confession.

“Fuck,” he whispered, the word cracking like ice underfoot.

You waited for the storm. For the guilt-tripping “Do you know how worried I’ve been?” or the frustrated “Why won’t you let me help?” that had driven others away.

But Yoongi wasn’t others.

He stood abruptly, the motion sending a half-empty ramen cup tumbling to the floor. Without a word, he rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

You watched through slitted eyes as he moved, methodical, relentless. He didn’t just clean; he excavated.

The shattered mug you’d hurled at the wall last week aimed at a memory, a voice, your own reflection, was swept into a bin. The mountain of takeout containers, some sprouting fuzzy green colonies, vanished into black trash bags.

When he reached for the pill bottle on your nightstand, you finally spoke.

“Don’t.” Your voice was a rusted blade.

He paused, the orange plastic clutched in his fist. “These expired two months ago.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.” The pills rattled as he dumped them into the trash.

He returned the next day. And the next.

You stopped counting the times he barged in, armed with grocery bags and a stubbornness that outmatched your own. He scrubbed the grime from your windows until sunlight dared to creep back in. He replaced your threadbare towels with ones that smelled like fabric softener and home.

Once, he unearthed a sketchbook from under your bed, pages filled with frenzied scribbles of storm clouds and fractured song lyrics. You watched, throat tight, as he tucked it gently onto the bookshelf, beside his old production manuals.

“For later,” he said, as if later was a promise he could keep.

The fifth night, he found you shivering in a sweat-soaked hoodie, the broken AC leaking icy air like a betrayal.

“Shower,” he said, not a request.

You shook your head, curling tighter into yourself.

He disappeared into the bathroom. The pipes groaned, and soon steam curled under the door, carrying the faintest hint of your lavender body wash. When he returned, his sleeves were damp, hair mussed from scrubbing off your tiles.

“Now,” he said, voice softer now. “Or I’ll drag you there myself.”

You went.

He waited outside the door, humming a half-formed melody under his breath, the same one he’d played on your cracked keyboard last week. You stood under the scalding water until your skin turned raw, until the heat seeped into the cracks of your bones, and wondered when he’d learned the exact temperature you liked.

When you emerged, towel clutched to your chest, he was gone.

But on the couch lay a fresh hoodie, his hoodie, folded neatly beside a steaming bowl of kimchi jjigae. A sticky note clung to the rim:

“Eat. Or I’ll tell Jin you’re alive. He’s been texting me conspiracy theories about you joining a cult.”

For the first time in weeks, your lips twitched.

The feeling terrified you.

Yoongi’s visits became as predictable as the sunset.

He arrived daily at 6:07 PM, his knuckles rapping once against your door, a courtesy, not a request, before letting himself in. The first time, you’d flinched at the sound, burrowing deeper into the couch’s crevices. By the seventh day, you found yourself staring at the clock, counting the minutes until the lock clicked.

He never announced himself. Just slipped in, grocery bags, somtimes rustling with Jin’s aggressively labeled Tupperware -“EAT ME BEFORE I CRY”- scrawled in red Sharpie, and set to work. You cataloged his routines: the way he’d kick off his shoes by the door, always left aligned, laces tucked in, the sigh he’d exhale before tackling the dishes, the precise angle he’d tilt his head when scrubbing stains from your coffee table, as if decoding a particularly stubborn chord progression.

The hazards disappeared first.

You noticed the razor blades gone from your desk drawer, replaced by a box of colored pencils. The vodka and soju bottles under the sink vanished, its spot taken by a six-pack of water. The loose pills in your nightstand? Swapped for melatonin gummies shaped like tiny bears. He moved like a ghost, erasing traces of your decay, and you let him.

His notes appeared in unexpected places:

Taped to the fridge:

“Ate the expired yogurt. You’re welcome. P.S. Jin says hi. He’s 83% sure you’re not dead.”

Slipped under your pillow:

“Hobi made a ‘Sunshine Recovery’ playlist. It’s 90% Disney songs. USB on the desk if you’re brave.”

You found it plugged into your laptop, track one titled “Hakuna Matata (Sad Remix)”

Scrawled on the bathroom mirror in dry-erase marker:

“Shower. Please. You smell like Namjoon’s gym bag.”

You ignored them. Mostly.

But on day twelve, you caught yourself staring at the USB drive, its neon green casing mocking you from across the room. When Yoongi returned the next morning, he found it plugged in, the playlist paused midway through “Let It Go”. Hobi’s voice cracking spectacularly on the high note. He didn’t smile. Just nodded, as if he’d expected nothing less, and left a new note:

“Track 7 is worse. You’ve been warned.”

The breaking point came on a rain-lashed Thursday.

Yoongi found you huddled on the balcony, his hoodie soaked through, hair plastered to your skull. The broken AC had turned your apartment into a sauna, and you’d fled to the icy downpour, chasing numbness.

For once, he broke protocol.

“Up,” he barked, hauling you inside with hands that trembled, from anger or fear, you couldn’t tell. You stumbled, knees buckling, but he caught you, his grip firm around your waist. “Enough.”

He marched you to the bathroom, cranked the shower to near-scalding, and shoved a towel into your chest. “Now.”

You stared at the steam curling under the door. “Go away.”

“Try again.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and you realized with dawning horror that he’d brought a book, a weathered copy of Murakami’s 'Kafka on the Shore'. “I’ll be here.”

“I don’t need...”

“You don’t get to decide what you need right now.” He flipped a page, jaw set. “Shower. Or I read aloud. Your choice.”

You showered.

The water burned, but you leaned into it, scrubbing until your skin turned pink. When you emerged, towel clutched like armor, he was gone –again– but a fresh hoodie hung on the door, like last time, still warm from the dryer. His cologne clung to the fabric, a woodsy anchor in the storm.

That night, you found his Murakami book left behind, a receipt marking page 127:

“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions.”

Beneath it, in Yoongi’s jagged script:

“Sandstorms pass. I’ll wait. -Y-

You slept with the book under your pillow, the hoodie’s sleeves wrapped around your fists.

The next morning, the AC was fixed.

You didn’t ask how.

It was Saturday 3 AM when the words claw their way out.

Yoongi’s on the floor, back against the couch, grading demos with his laptop balanced on his knees. The screen’s blue glow sharpens the shadows under his eyes, and you wonder if he’s slept at all this week, if either of you have. You’re drowning in his hoodie again, the third one he’s brought this month, its sleeves frayed from your restless picking. The scars on your arms itch beneath the fabric, a map of failures he’s already memorized.

He knows. Of course he knows.

He was the one who found you that second night, after all, your body limp against the bathroom tiles, fingers curled around an empty pill bottle he still won’t name aloud. He was the one who screamed into the phone for an ambulance, who held your hand in the ER with a grip that left bruises, who slept in a plastic chair for three days until your eyes fluttered open. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he’d hissed then, voice trembling with rage and relief. “Don’t you dare leave me like this.”

But tonight, the silence between you is a live wire.

You trace the oldest scar, a jagged line he’s never asked about. “You saved me,” you say, voice frayed. “That night, the other night....”

His fingers freeze mid-keystroke. The laptop fan whirs louder.

“You never thanked me,” he says finally, not looking up.

“Would you have wanted me to?”

“No.” He closes the laptop with a snap. “I’d have wanted you to fight harder.”

The words sting, but his eyes soften them. He shifts closer, knees brushing yours, and you catch the faint tremor in his hands, the same tremor he’d hidden when he carried you to the ambulance.

“I’m still here,” you whisper, as if it’s a confession.

“Barely.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and stares at the carpet like it holds the answers. “You think I clean your apartment for fun? That I listen to Hobi’s playlists out of charity?” His laugh is bitter, worn thin. “You’re alive. That’s the baseline. I’m waiting for you to live.”

The honesty hangs between you, raw and unflinching. You want to scream, to tear at the walls, to ask why he bothers, why anyone would. Instead, you blurt, “It’s hard. Wanting to stay.”

“I know.”

“How?”

He hesitates, then rolls up his sleeve. A faded scar runs along his forearm, paler than yours, older. “I was twenty one. Scared. Angry. Thought the world wouldn’t miss another nameless kid from Daegu.” His thumb brushes the mark, a habit you recognize now. “But the world’s full of shitty second chances. This...” he nods at you, at the space between you, “...is mine.”

You reach out, fingertips grazing his wrist. His pulse jumps, but he doesn’t pull away.

“You’re not nameless,” you say.

“Neither are you.”

The clock ticks. Rain taps the window. Somewhere downstairs, a car alarm wails.

Yoongi leans back, eyes heavy but clear. “Complaining yet?”

“About what?”

“That I make it hard to want to die.”

You huff, surprised. “Asshole.”

“Good.” He reopens his laptop, the glow cutting through the dark. “Means you’re still here to insult me.”

Timeskip

Winter arrived with teeth, biting through Seoul’s streets and frosting the windows of Yoongi’s studio. Inside, warmth pooled under the glow of desk lamps, the air thick with the burnt-caramel scent of overbrewed coffee and the faint hum of a space heater fighting valiantly against the chill. You sat cross-legged on the floor, his hoodie swallowing your frame, its sleeves rolled haphazardly to your elbows. A notebook lay sprawled in your lap, pages crammed with lyrics scratched out and rewritten, margins filled with doodles of storm clouds and half-melted snowmen.

Yoongi was at his desk, scowling at a tracklist as if it had personally offended him. The studio was cluttered in its usual organized chaos, a framed photo of Bangtan’s debut days tilted precariously near his monitors, a wilting succulent Jungkook had gifted him –“Hyung, it’s indestructible—like you!”– clinging to life by the window. His fingers tapped absently against a coffee mug, the one you’d painted for him last month, a lopsided heart that read “World’s Okayest Producer.”

You’d come here often lately. Not because he asked, but because the silence between you had shifted, no longer heavy, but companionable. A refuge.

“Your hoodie,” he said suddenly, not looking up.

You paused, pen hovering over a line about fractured constellations. “Yours,” you corrected, tugging the fabric tighter. It smelled like him now, cedarwood and the faint smell of coffee.

“Keep it.” His voice was casual, but his shoulders tensed, the way they did when he was avoiding eye contact. “Looks better on you anyway.”

You snorted. “Liar. I’ve seen your closet.”

“Exactly. I need an intervention.” He spun in his chair, finally facing you, and froze.

A strand of hair had escaped your ponytail, clinging to your temple. You went to tuck it back, but he was already moving, slow, deliberate, like approaching a skittish animal. His calloused fingers brushed your skin, tucking the stray lock behind your ear. His thumb lingered, tracing the curve of your forehead, and you didn’t flinch. Didn’t dare breathe.

The studio’s hum faded, the whirring computer, the heater’s rattle, the distant traffic, until all that remained was the click of his chair rolling closer, the hitch in his throat as he leaned in.

His lips pressed against your forehead, a whisper of warmth, fleeting but searing. You closed your eyes, memorizing the weight of his hand cradling your jaw, the way his breath shuddered like he’d been holding it for years.

“Don’t make me write a ballad about this,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His ears were pink, but his voice held its usual gruffness. “Taehyung would never let me live it down.”

You laughed, shaky and breathless. “Would it be a good ballad?”

“The best.” His thumb brushed your cheekbone, a silent confession. “But you’re not ready for my masterpiece.”

Outside, snow began to fall, dusting the city in quiet. Inside, the space heater sputtered, and the succulent’s last leaf trembled in the draft. But here, in this cluttered corner of the world, you felt it, the tectonic shift, the faultline of before and after.

Yoongi returned to his desk, but his knee stayed pressed against yours, a steady anchor. You picked up your pen, the lyrics suddenly flowing easier, and wondered if this was what hope tasted like, bitter coffee, cedarwood, and the ghost of a kiss still burning on your skin.

Epilogue

Recovery isn’t linear.

Some days, the darkness still slips through the cracks. It pools in the corners of your apartment, whispers through the vents, and stains the edges of your thoughts. But now, when the weight threatens to suffocate you, you reach for your phone.

“Yoongs...”

“Be there in 10.”

He always is.

One morning, long after the snow has thawed, you find him at your kitchen table. Dawn bleeds through the curtains, painting the room in watercolor grays. Yoongi’s slumped over his laptop, cheek pressed to the keyboard, glasses askew. The screen casts a faint glow on his face, illuminating the track title: DAWN_CHORUS_FINAL.mp3.

You linger in the doorway, memorizing the scene. The empty coffee mugs, yours with chipmunk doodles, his plain black, clustered like survivors of a long night. The crumpled sticky notes littering the table-

“Bridge needs more bass,”

“Lyrics too vague?”

-in his jagged handwriting. The USB drive Hobi gifted you months ago, now plugged into his laptop, its neon green casing glowing like a tiny beacon.

His hoodie hangs on the back of your chair, threadbare and familiar. You slip it on, the fabric warm from the radiator he’d insisted on installing last month, and pad closer.

He looks younger in sleep, the crease between his brows softened, lips slightly parted. A strand of hair falls over his forehead, and you resist the urge to brush it back. Instead, you drape his spare hoodie, yours now, really, over his shoulders. He stirs, murmurs something unintelligible “…key change…”, and sinks deeper into sleep.

The laptop screen flickers. You glance at the track, curiosity overriding guilt. The waveform pulses gently, and you hit play.

His voice spills out first, low and rasping, layered over a piano melody you recognize, the one he’d hummed outside your bathroom door. Then your voice joins, lifted from old voicemails and late-night rants, stitched into harmonies you didn’t know you could make. Lyrics you’d scribbled in his margins weave through the arrangement:

“The dawn is just a chorus of all the nights we survived.”

Your eyes burn.

In the corner, the succulent Jungkook once called 'indestructible' thrives in its new pot, now at your place, its leaves plump and green. Beside it, the Murakami book lies open to page 127, a fresh note tucked into the crease:

“Sandstorm’s passing.Coffee’s on me today. -Y-”

You start the coffee, just the way he likes it, black, with a pinch of salt he’d begrudgingly admitted cuts the bitterness. As the machine gurgles to life, you open the fridge. Jin’s latest meal-prep containers stare back, labeled “RECOVERY RAMEN - NOW WITH 200% MORE HOPE!” in aggressively cheerful font.

Outside, the city stirs. A delivery truck rumbles past, and the first birdsong trills through the cracked window. Yoongi shifts, his hoodie slipping off one shoulder. You catch it before it falls, your fingers brushing the scar on his forearm, the one he’d shown you that night, the one that mirrors yours.

He doesn’t wake.

You pour two coffees, set one beside his laptop, and sip yours slowly. The bitterness lingers, but so does the sweetness.

When he finally stirs, blinking blearily at the dawn, you nod to the track. “You finished it.”

He grunts, reaching for his mug. “We did.”

“Cheesy.”

“Blame Hobi. He insisted on the harmonies.” He takes a sip, hides a smile in the rim. “You hate it?”

You press replay. The chorus swells, your voices tangled now, inseparable. “It’s tolerable.”

“High praise.”

Chuckles. Sunlight fractures through the window, painting his face in gold. The coffee steam curls between you, and for a moment, the world holds its breath.

Yoongi breaks it first. “Next track’s on you.”

“What’s it called?”

“Dusk Theory.” He smirks at your raised brow. “... gotta have a sequel.”

You throw a pen at him. He ducks, laughing, and the dawn blooms brighter.

END.

[amayaonly1]

Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey

Eminem x Rapper!OC

Verse 4

About: Eminem's journey back to form takes an unexpected turn in the studio when his focus shifts from the track to Genji, the quiet yet sharp presence in his creative space. While Dre sees her as a rare talent with a knack for refining music, Eminem starts noticing how her contributions resonate beyond sound. As they collaborate on a song he had not visited for a few years, the charged atmosphere between them sparks more than just artistic synergy, hinting at deeper connections and possibilities.

"Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey" Chapter List: Verse 1 | Verse 2 | Verse 3 | Verse 4 | Verse 5 | Verse 6 | Verse 7 | Verse 8 | Verse 9 | Verse 10 | Verse 11 | Verse 12 | Verse 13 | Verse 14 | Verse 15 | Verse 16 | Verse 17 | Verse 18 | Verse 19 | Verse 20 | Verse 21 | Verse 22 | Verse 23 | Verse 24 | Verse 25 | Verse 26 | Verse 27

Disclaimer: This work is a work of fiction, and any involvement of the character Genji is purely fictional and not representative of any real person.

Eminem leaned back in his swivel chair, letting the beat flow through the studio speakers. "We Made You" was in the bag, polished and ready to drop. The track had everything a satire needed: biting humour, ridiculous wordplay, and that larger-than-life energy only Dre could produce. But it wasn't Dre who lingered on his mind; it was her.

Genji wasn't loud about her contributions, but she didn't need to be. The subtleties in her work left an imprint, so much so that now, even when the studio was silent, he could hear echoes of her ideas. Maybe it was the way she operated — precise and intentional — or maybe it was her quiet confidence. Either way, it was enough to make him wonder what else he hadn't noticed about her.

She sat on the black leather sofa at the back of the room, her focus glued to the flickering waveform on her laptop screen, the device propped on a pillow resting on her lap. She wasn't involved in every track, unlike "We Made You", but her fingerprints had a way of sneaking into the sound. A subtle bassline here, a pitch-shifted vocal sample there; she had a knack for elevating the ordinary. Although she didn't call attention to it, he saw it. He always did.

"Alright, let's hear it back," Dre called, waving towards the booth.

Eminem nodded and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table as "Hello" restarted. The beat hit hard — steady, relentless — but now there was a uniquely layered texture, almost conversational. Each instrumental seemed to talk back, with playful stabs of synths and bass drops, creating a dialogue between aggression and introspection. It gave the rhythm a depth he couldn't quite pin down. He threw a glance at Genji. Her attention was still fixated on whatever's on her laptop, but he knew. This had her written all over it.

As Dre started adjusting the mix, the rapper's attention drifted. He watched Genji scroll through her laptop, occasionally typing something. The dim glow of her screen highlighted her focus, and for a brief moment, he wondered what went on in her head while she worked so quietly. Eventually, he tore his gaze away, shaking his head to refocus as the track looped once more.

Eminem sat across from Dre in the small dining area within the studio complex. The latter was finishing up a burger while Eminem idly poked at his spaghetti, lost in thought.

"She's something, isn't she?" Dre asked casually, breaking the silence.

The rapper frowned, glancing up. "Who?"

Dre smirked knowingly, leaning back in his chair. "Genji. The kid's got talent. Never thought we'd see someone her age pulling their weight in here like that."

"Yeah, she's sharp," Eminem admitted, his tone professional. "She catches things others miss. That ear of hers? Insane. Makes the process smoother." He shrugged, looking back at his plate. "Can't really ask for more."

Dre studied him for a beat, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That all?"

Eminem glanced up, narrowing his eyes slightly. "What're you gettin' at?"

"Nothing. Just saying. You two make a good team. Might even be able to bring out something fresh in you, y'know?"

Eminem huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "You act like I need 'fresh'. I've been doin' this long enough."

"True. But sometimes the best things come when you're not lookin' for 'em," said Dre, getting up and tossing his empty wrapper in the trash.

Eminem didn't reply, watching Dre leave the room. His words lingered, though, as he sat back and folded his arms. Genji's focus and skill had always stood out, but now Dre's comment had planted something new in his mind — a curiosity he couldn't quite shake.

He shook his head, muttering under his breath as he grabbed his plate. “Dre's trippin'. She's just the kid with the ear."

But as he made his way back to the studio, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe there was something more to the way she carried herself, the way she always seemed to know the right notes to elevate his music.

When Eminem stepped into the studio room, he found Genji already seated at the console, her fingers poised over the knobs as if she had been mid-adjustment. The quiet hum of the equipment filled the space, and she looked up at him with a calm yet expectant gaze.

"You're early," she said, swivelling her chair to face him.

He lingered by the doorway for a moment, watching her. The room's dim lighting cast her figure in a soft glow as she returned her focus to the console. He cleared his throat, stepping forward but stopping short of the workstation. "Didn't expect to see you here already," he murmured. His hesitation hung in the air, and for a brief moment, he glanced away, collecting his thoughts.

Genji raised an eyebrow, her expression curious but not pressing. "Dre sent me some songs that he wants me to work on," she replied lightly, gesturing at the console. "So I figured I'd get a head start after a quick lunch."

A wave of hesitation washed over him, memories swirling in his mind: the months in rehab, the nights spent staring at blank pages, wrestling with the shadows that crept into his thoughts. She tilted her head slightly, sensing his hesitation but staying quiet, giving him the space to find his words. Gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself, he slid onto the swivel chair next to her.

"I've got something," he finally said, his voice quieter than usual, almost tentative. His eyes flicked to her, searching for her reaction.

She nodded once, her expression steady but attentive. "You want me to hear it?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said meekly with a nod. "It's called 'Beautiful'. Wrote it back in 2005, but it's not done."

"Alright. Let's hear it."

He hesitated for a moment longer, then reached out and hit play.

Lately I've been hard to reach I've been too long on my own Everybody has their private world Where they can be alone

The room was filled with a haunting melody, soft synths and faint percussion accompanying his voice, weaving together into something both raw and evocative — the bones of a track he hadn't revisited in years. Eminem folded his arms, staring at the console as the music swelled. Memories of the track flooded back, the half-written verses he'd started during rehab in 2005, the pain and clarity captured in those moments. He hadn't touched it in years, not until now.

As the lyrics faded into the instrumental, he glanced at Genji. Her expression was unreadable, her gaze fixed on the console as if she were studying the track.

"What do you think?" he finally asked.

She then leaned back into the chair, exhaling softly. "It has potential," she said at last, her voice quieter than usual. "But it still feels... unresolved. Like it was waiting for something."

"I agree," he murmured, staring at the floor beneath him. "How do you think we can make it a better joint?"

Genji paused, her eyes meeting his, and for a fleeting moment, something softened in her expression. "Maybe," she began carefully. "We could add some layers. But... I don't wanna mess with it too much." She hesitated, then continued, her voice more tender now. "It sounds like it comes from somewhere deep."

His jaw tightened slightly, the weight of her words settling over him. "It does," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And now that I listened to it again, I think it’s still missing something."

She leaned forward, her gaze intent but gentle as curiosity flickered in her eyes. "Like what?"

He hesitated, then grabbed a notebook from the table. "A third verse. Something to tie it all together."

The woman in front of him gave a small, understanding smile. "Yeah, that works," she said softly. "We’ll figure it out as we go along the way, aight?"

For the first time since they'd started, he met her gaze directly, and in her steady eyes, he saw not just a collaborator, but someone who understood. He nodded, the faintest trace of gratitude flickering across his face as his lips curled into a slight smile. "Aight."

As the track looped, Eminem found himself falling into the rhythm of the moment. Genji's presence made the process feel almost effortless. Her input wasn’t just technical; it was intuitive. She didn’t just tweak notes or refine lyrics; she understood the essence of the song, its need for vulnerability and resilience. Perhaps it came with years of experience; regardless, he appreciated that.

The rapper tapped the notebook with his pen, then glanced at her. "So, I've got these lines here for the third verse," he began, his tone cautious, "but I'm wondering how they land. What d'you think of this?" He cleared his throat, rapping:

Aunt Edna always told me: "Keep making that face, it'll get stuck like that." Meanwhile, I'm just standin' there Holdin' my tongue, tryin' to talk like this 'Til I stuck my tongue on that frozen Stop sign pole at eight-years-old I learned my lesson then, 'cause I wasn't Tryin' to impress my friends no mo'

Genji tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in thought. "It's… raw; honest," she said slowly, her voice tinged with a softness that made him pause. "I like it. But do you want it to stay raw or build on it?"

"What would you do?"

She lightly placed the tip of her index and middle finger on the bottom of her lips — a habit he'd noticed whenever she's pondering. "If it were me," she began thoughtfully, "I'd keep it raw. The only additions I'll make are just some harmonics in the background."

Eminem studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah," he murmured, the faintest hint of a smile crossing his face. "That's not bad. Let's try it."

For hours, they worked in sync, piecing together the fragments of the song. Genji's subtle suggestions added vivid imagery to his raw lines, while her melodic tweaks gave the track a richer depth. The air in the studio felt charged, like the music wasn't the only thing connecting them.

Eminem leaned back in his chair, staring at the console as their latest take of "Beautiful" played softly in the background. The weight of the track hung heavy in the room, but the subtle touches Genji had added brought it into sharper focus.

"This album, it's different," she said softly, breaking the silence. She looked at him with a calm confidence that he'd come to associate with her. "It might be a challenge for you to immediately get back to rapping like you used to, but I think this album's got something your fans have been waiting for, a reminder of why they stuck with you."

He glanced at her, her steady conviction catching him off guard. "You really think that?"

She nodded, her expression unwavering. "Yeah, I do. It's still you. And after everything that's happened, people need to hear that."

Her words hit him harder than he expected. He chuckled, though the sound carried a faint edge of vulnerability. "Well, if you're wrong, guess I'll be stuck in the bargain bin with Vanilla Ice and one-hit wonders."

Genji smirked, shaking her head. "No chance. You're in a league of your own."

There was a beat of silence, the kind that felt charged. He studied her for a moment, the way her lips curved into a small smile, the way her hair caught the dim studio light. Without thinking, he muttered, "It's not just the music that's been different lately."

Her smile faltered, replaced by a look of curiosity and slight nervousness. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the console as if searching for an escape. "You," he said finally, his voice quieter. "Having you around… it changes things. Makes it easier to work through the mess in my head."

The words hung in the air, and he realised too late how they might’ve sounded. Genji's cheeks flushed faintly, and she quickly looked down at her lap, fiddling with the hem of her grey hoodie sleeves.

"Well," she said, her voice softer now. "Guess that means I'm doing my job right."

He huffed a laugh, trying to ease the tension, but the moment lingered between them. For a second, he thought about saying more, about teasing out what her reaction meant, but he let it go.

"Yeah," he said, his tone more casual now. "You are."

As they returned their focus to the track, the charged moment faded into the rhythm of their work. But the hint of something unsaid lingered, a subtle undertone in the melody they created together.

[uncreative-cryptid]

that long ass essay i promised to write regarding the quartz, symbolism, and my oc valerian.

so valerian is both complicated and not complicated but a lot of his symbolism lies within the idea of aura quartz and how it's made, what color, and what that is mean to do in the world of metaphysics.

the first important thing to note is this:

metaphysical vibrations. in the world of wuwa, everything is based off sound, and in some circles, the metaphysical also focus on the vibrations of everything - as everything in the world has vibrations (consider this like .. everything has a waveform, essentially, but only resonators have the ability to feel and sense these vibrations/waveforms/echoes/ect.)

second thing:

aura quartz is man made, it is not naturally occurring by any means beyond the base crystal. in order to create it, the quartz is exposed to extremely high temperatures and then exposed to varying amounts of metals in order for it to gain that aura - often with silver or gold.

depending on who you're talking to or the general opinion, the fact aura quartz is not 'natural' (so therefore has no history to tie to the spirit), can turn a lot of people away from using aura quartz for anything.

however, there is one more thing to keep in mind:

aura quartz is usually made with a clear crystal as the base. clear crystals are thought to be the strongest of the crystals, as it's whole meaning is amplification of power, clarity, and the way it is meant to absorb negative energies. a cleansing for the soul, if you would.

many of valerian's moves and forte are based on these quartz.

"Man Made" is in reference to the way Aura Quartz is created. valerian's history with his family is barely a few threads at best these days, his parents considering him their 'prodigal son', but he cannot deny their tough treatment of him when he was younger hasn't impacted his entire personality and how he now seeks to rectify all his wrongs. they were the fire and the metal, but he was the clear quartz who came out the otherside. he was man made.

Blood of the Ruby Aura

symbolizes strength and passion and protects the heart from emotional negativity.

An Aura of Flame

symbolises transformation, harmony, and stability.

Song of the Aqua Aura

symbolizes tranquility and connection and communication. it is also a spiritual protector, meant to help cleanse and protect the soul from negativity.

Aura of the Sun

this gem is meant to symbolize: joy/happiness, creativity/inspiration, and protection/strength. generally speaking, this is also meant to promote the emotional wellbeing.

Kaleidoscope

what i love about kaleidoscopes is the fact that generally speaking, it's a pattern of fractals. fractals, mathematically, go on and on and on forever, and it's interesting.

what these mean to valerian and how they relate to him:

ruby aura quartz: valerian protects his heart deeply, not only is he passionate about what he does, but he's usually a person who wears his heart on his sleeve. unfortunately, due to past events, this has changed and he keeps himself quite guarded ... but he wants to continue to keep people safe.

flame aura quartz: as it stands, valerian is in a state of transformation, seeking to harmonize with the world around him and accept all his own flaws and traumas no matter how difficult it has been.

aqua aura quartz: for valerian, this is meant to symbolize his own sense of tranquility as he continues to look for solace in the world, and the coloration to him is also important; between skies and oceans, the aqua aura reminds him there is more beyond that of the ends of the beach. it gives him a sense of peace to know that he is apart of this world, no matter how small, no matter how insignificant it feels; he is the blue in the ocean.

sunshine aura quartz: just like the warm rays of the sun, the idea of sunshine aura is meant to promote this warm and comfortable feeling. valerian does not believe himself to deserve happiness for what he has done, but he seeks to accept himself and all that has happened to be able to accept his happiness.

the kaleidoscope: valerian is under the belief that everything in intertwined, and that when you 'zoom in' or 'zoom out' in your perspective, it's just repeating patterns, and sometimes twisting the fractals allows you to see something a little different than before. art and life imitate each other, it is all one in the same.

valerian is a lot of things, but most importantly he's still human with flaws and troubles and trying to find things in the world that makes him feel more at ease. when it comes down to his character, the kaleidoscope represents the many different colors in his life, a stained glass pattern, and the meaning he will draw from these things. it is chaotic and reflected back in on itself into patterns that change when you turn it around.

i like to think the crystals represent both his past and his present, he is passionate and full of love and kindness and joy, but he is full of sorrow and anger and pain, too. and full of emotion, he seeks to realign constantly.

overall, i feel that valerian is both a reflection of myself and the world he is in. the many colors and crystals can mean a lot of things, and simultaneously mean absolutely nothing.

in short:

valerian is a product of his creation, man made; but the meaning he draws from this is his alone to decide, be it that because he is 'man made' he is not truly something considered helpful or true, or if that the metal exterior that turns an otherwise ordinary crystal into something beautiful is worth it's use anyway.

we are a product of the things around us, but meaning is what we choose to make it, and what colors we choose to see, and even how the pattern is reflected. we might not be able to choose the point the kaleidoscope starts at, but we can change it at any time.

valerian will eventually learn this, will eventually come to terms with the fact he holds 2 civilian deaths and 1 resonator death on his hands due to overclocking. he will come to understand he can change the way this pattern shows. hell, he'll eventually even learn he can pop the glass out and change the colors. but that takes time and understanding that healing is not linear and cannot always be through one singular thing.

and still, these crystals dont just mean one thing, they can mean anything, it is all about how you choose to interpret the messages and feelings you get. dont let the insane ramblings of one internet creature dictate what you should and should not derive from the meanings and symbolisms presented to you. what you draw is ultimately a reflection of myself, yourself, and the environments that made us.

draw whatever conclusion you want from these crystals and what you think it may mean in reference to valerian, cause i would genuinely love to hear what people think these could mean and what feelings they draw from these things. art is collective and i am nothing if not a dragon hoarding all the things.

[ivorydragoncat]

I lament the never-ending agony of having a fandom ship which includes 2 canon characters which you whole-heartedly support and want to make real, but then at the same time one of them has you completely head over heels so now you also want your OC to date that guy.

And on top of that

Monogamy

So you can't just have both at once.

Gjghhssfgddyjfssghssdhgdah

---*---

Mordecai Heller and Rocky Rickaby is such a beautiful idea. They mesh in the most incredible way possible, and at first it seems so unlikely but when delved into... it clicks! And you often don't need to make out of pocket changes to them or assume anything ludicrous about their inner machinations. Based on what we know of them, their facades could hide true selves that may mesh absolutely perfectly. What's fun about making something like this happen is figuring out how those facades are broken or bypassed, and there are lots of fun ways to do so. No two fics are the same either; every time I read a new one I see a new take on the characters and their dynamic and every time I am completely on board. It's the perfect example of what an actual opposites attract type relationship should look like, and since they're clearly both equally broken people, it becomes mutually healing instead of "I can fix him".

I am absolutely down bad for those two

And yet... Rocky... there is just something enigmatic and wondrous, specifically about him... I genuinely think he may be my first actual fictional crush. So...

*sighs*

I want BOTH hellerby and rickawater (Cecyl x Rocky) to be canon simultaneously - like in a superposition, quantum physics way. No cloning, not polyamory, no triangle drama where the only outcomes are unsatisfactory, not parallell timelines or anything like that. 2 truths that by thei very nature oppose the others' existence that yet somehow coexist in a quantum waveform until observed.

But it's not possible... and no I won't be writing hellerby here - I think there are already great writers who have made that ship sail far and wide with a steady course. I'll stick to OC x Canon for myself and oogle the two gay boys from across the boundaries of a separate reality.

[unrealistic-ideas-for-writers]

Beneath the Sands

World Quest/Caladin Story Quest

Hi! Feel free to ignore :3

For anyone interested in my upcoming little project of writing out a story/world quest, feel free to tune in and I can tag you on future updates!

This will also be tagged with #beneath the sands wuwa on my blog :3

For those interested in reading or potentially including their OCs, I’m beginning to outline the basic concepts and I’m gathering ideas!

Below will contain spoilers for the Quest plot and contain my thoughts along with a poll probably? Feel free to pause and just ask for a tag if you want to remain spoiler free :3

Alrighty!

This is primarily for those who wish to suggest ideas or participate in the project:

What we know so far

Caladin and (x) giant Tacet Discord we’re frozen in time by a unique, fairly ancient type of waveform phenomena

Said phenomenon is currently unnamed, but I feel like it’s something that hasn’t been seen in a while and there’s few records of its existence

A Court of Savantae research facility was built around the site where Caladin was initially discovered

Per usual, it fell into ruin for “unknown reasons” (they got a little too curious me thinks)

In some way or another, Rover finds themself exploring the area with a potential cast of NPCs or OCs :3

I’m unsure if I want to wait for Rinacita or another new region to write this, mainly because I suspect Caladin was frozen in the remnants of his homeland which is based of Middle Eastern nations.

So quick poll I suppose?

And finally, here’s the ideas I have so far on how some OCs could easily be inserted into the quest line:

- Jiahui by @hobbysognodilibri is a field researcher- maybe she heard about the ruins and planned an expedition???

- Valerian by @uncreative-cryptid could’ve been commissioned to help her since CSC ruins are infamously dangerous and they’ve interacted before

- Chiefly by @crypticrainbowmoss I *vaguely* remember reading something about his people originating from the desert, but I may be thinking of their other OC Sobeknesef (hope I spelled that right :’)

These are currently the three OCs I’ve interacted the most with, but anyone is welcome to join and obviously these people aren’t obligated to interact either^^

This is more so a silly little project idea of mind, but I think it’d be fun to do! I’d be happy to work on similar projects focused more on other people’s OCs as well :3

[fizhle]

WUWA OC! !!!

this is just the forte exam i might do like relationships and whatever later

Marjan (pronounced Maryan)

Basic Information

Marjan is an airheaded meteorologist, who surprisingly excels at his job. He can often be seen spacing out on the clock, though nobody can reprimand him because he has finished all of his tasks perfectly.

If you have any questions about why certain meteorological phenomena happen, he's your guy. But be prepared for a lengthy lecture full of tangents.

Gender

Male

Birthplace

Huanglong

Affiliation

???

——————

Forte Examination Report

Resonance Ability

Colourful Refraction

Resonance Evaluation Report

Evaluation Basis: [Resonance Assessment 2916-G]

The exact time and age of Resonator Marjan's Awakening remain unknown. Marjan reports extreme fascination with colours and rainbows in childhood, presumably leading to his Awakening, though it is unclear of the direct cause.

Marjan's Tacet Mark is located along the bridge of his nose. When Marjan's Forte is active, his eyes seem to refract light into kaleidoscopic colours. A secondary mutation of Marjan's Awakening is the development of tetrachromacy.

Marjan demonstrates the ability to create physical manifestations of rainbows by taking moisture out of the air, applying light to create a rainbow, then freezing that rainbow into whatever he sees fit for the occasion. He often opts for creating a large broadsword, using his parasol as a base. He also demonstrates the ability to create shields around himself and allies that, upon being broken, harm the attacker as shattered glass would.

The Resonance Spectrum Pattern of Marjan has been observed to closely align with that of the phenomenon of rainbows. A strong Syntony reaction has been observed, though, due to multiple factors causing the appearance of a rainbow, it is difficult to find the direct cause of Marjan's Awakening.

Analysis of test samples revealed a non-convergent Rabelle's Curve with a noticeable periodic waveform, classifying Marjan as a Congenital Resonator.

Overclock Diagnostic Report

Resonator Marjan's waveform graph shows elliptical fluctuations. The pattern of Time Domain is stable, with no abnormalities observed.

Resonant Criticality: Moderate with high stability, resulting in a low risk of Overclocking.

Marjan has one recorded incident of Overclocking. Marjan was poor as a child, upon Awakening his Forte, he used it daily as a street performer as a means to gain money. During this Overclocking incident, Marjan recalls draining the colour from everything in a 500 meter radius. The incident was likely caused by several stress factors and overuse of his Forte. Post-Overclocking caused Marjan to experience symptoms similar to that of heatstroke, as well as the loss of colour making him appear almost monochrome.

No regular check-ups are necessary, though psychological counselling is recommended when Marjan is displaying signs of anxiety, stress, or sensory overload.

[absurdly-overpowered-astronaut]

I named some characters for each question but you can do any character or as many as you want I don't mind ^_^

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who? - I'm curious if any of them do..

3) What song describes your OC? - tory and anyone else you choose!

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day? - tolver and morgannn pretty pleaseee (or anyone else you want)

11) What was your inspiration for your OC? - another blanket one, any crows character is good

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive? - Tolver aaand joycie

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire? - Alex and Kat

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!) - uhmm grey moodboard grey moodboard!!!

Aaand extra bonus question, which one would get along really well with akitsu (if any) and which one would absolutely not (if any)

Thank you so much for the ask!!! I had lots of fun with this sorry it took so long though ^_^;

I tried to do it for all the main characters / characters with POVs but thats alot of people so not everyone is included for every question…

But thank you again for asking so many questions. You asked lots of the ones I really wanted to answer so thats exciting!

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

Its not something I really think about or consider often when I make characters so none of them have “official” for lack of a better word voice claims but I do remember thinking that Juliet probably sounded something like Jenny from deadboy detectives so Briana Cuoco is the closest I have to a voice claim for her.

(I don’t have any full art of her yet ahhh please accept my messy concept sketches ,^_^,)

I also remember wondering while watching the Witch From Mercury dub if Suletta was what Kat would sound like.

On the one hand Kat isn’t on T so it would make sense for his voice to be more fem but at the same time canonically he passes so then would it not make sense for his voice to be more fem because then he wouldn’t pass??? I don’t know but It has the perfect vibe though!

On the topic of The witch from mercury maybe Number 4/5/Elan = Tory/Cory?

I’d need to listen to his voice a few more times to be sure but thats the closest match I can think of to how Cory sounds in my head of the top of my head.

3) What song describes your OC?

Tory 110% ghosting by mother mother and Comfort zone by Ferry

I also associate him with

- Theory of I by Tart

-Homunculus by Trickle

-John my Beloved by Sufjan Stevens

-Shama by Nilfruits

-Cutlery by uki3

-like a dog by ferry

And Melty Land nightmare by Harumakigohan

Tory is a little hard because most Tory songs are also Cory songs so I tried to stick to the songs that only/mostly apply to Tory

Doing ever other POVs for funsies

Kat

- Say it/the moon will sing/predator by the crane wives

-easy by waveform*

-transient by the blank minds

-will anybody ever love me? By Sufjan stevens

-aishite! Aishite! Ashite!

I can’t become a floret/The third heart/Mikage’s Diary by Harumakigohan

-youyaku kimi ga shindanda

-I could’ve sworn you where dead by dandelion hands

-cutlery/quiet room uki3

-fool/lemon boy/snail cave town

-cosmic rendezvous by deco*27

Kat post story + a couple years of therapy

- tho I’m a tortoise

Cory

-Mama told me by mother mother

-soft and tame by the ophelias

-on the run by glass animals

-I of the storm/organs by of monsters and men

-your biggest fan by voxtrot

-javelin (to have to hold) by sufjan stevens

-take you to an alien by iyowa

-mud by Ferry

-the third heart/aster harumakigohan

-merry Christmas please don’t call by the bleachers

-Quite room by uki3

-sunao janakute gomennasai by aoya

Morgan

-Know how/keep you safe by the crane wives

-arms unfolding by dodie

-lost in the ocean by glass animals

-Zero talking by harumakigohan

-poison by cave town

-these days/upper hand/black ribbon by the Ophelias

-in the black by august greenwood

Grey

-here I am / canary in a coal mine by the crane wives

-neither here nor there eleisha eagle

-HIDE/SEEK by tart and monochromenace

-never the muse by madilyn mei

-mothers ,sisters , daughters and wives voxtrot

-monitoring by deco*27

-The kaleidoscope by monochromenace

-the faulty feline philosophy by ferry

-additional memory by jin

-living millenuim by iyowa

-leave you on the back of earth by Iyowa

Tolver

-Mad dog by the crane wives

-unfriendly hater by meddmia

- dinner bell by harumakigohan

-The Purge March/Deep cover/Harrow/bring it on! - deco*27

-red hour by tart

-scapeg♾️goat/pathological facade by ghost and pals

-ten feet tall by cave town

-who said anything about falling in love by the hoosiers

-like a dog by ferry

Alex

Seven by sleeping at last

Joycie

-I love you/this is how to be in love with you/parasite by deco*27

-idea of her /I’ll make cereal by cave town

-how I learned to love a bomb by glass animals

Goldenray/reunion/the secret/the promise by harumaki gohan

Hanahaki syndrome by shiki miyoshino

Ikanaide by sohta

Two by sleeping at last

Always forever by cults

Looking out for you by joy again

James

My angel by adrianne lenker

potpourri-san by iyowa

Mars by sleeping at last

Jaime

-the otherside of paradise by glass animals

Julie

Occam’s razor/message lost/false disposition by Ferry

Mars by sleeping atlast

Madeleine

Half return by Adrianne lenker

All is well (good bye good bye) by radical face

Heat abnormal by iyowa

Ithas

I ate my twin in the womb

Ikanaide

sorry the song section was sooo long ^-^;

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

Um idk how to approach this? ^^; the world of crows is pretty much just the real one but with ghosts and even if the supernatural elements didn’t exist the main characters wouldn’t have jobs because they are in high school…so I’m going to answer this question for the adult characters because if the super natural elements didn’t exist they would have different jobs then in the crows one.

Juliet - teacher aid. Is a little disillusioned but enjoys working with most kids and teachers.

james - worked at the old museum in town before it got shut down and begrudgingly moved to working at the one in the city. He loves it but hates that he does and he feels like it’s a betrayal of the town he loves and didn’t want to leave so he can never quite be fully happy in his new position. Feeling like he abandoned the town community for his own success/sake.

Jaime - youth councillor/helps run the town youth centre.

Madeline (not an adult but would have become one if not for super natural elements) - aquarium guide. I think she would love guiding people around aquariums and talking about all the creatures.

I also think she bugged james into coming with her to the city aquarium once and then she fell in love with the atmosphere and all the cool creatures and now with his city job they take turns driving each to work/bond over having similar jobs.

in this hypothetical she won’t have the same feelings about her life being worthless and her only existing to do one job so she’d let herself get a job she loves and set up a stable life.

Probably decorates her lanyard with cute sea creature stickers.

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

Kat and Cory

Okay so this is a little complicated but essentially both started out as expys. Cory was a Lelouch expy and Kat was a suzaku expy. They don’t really resemble Lelouch and Suzaku very much anymore Cory being dramatic and liking chess and Kat’s feelings of needing to atone are pretty much the only things that survived. So after I made the Suzaku and Lelouch expys I wanted a world to put them in and I was writing this story at the time so I put them in there.

They ended up becoming their own characters at this phase but they aren’t quite Kat and Cory yet so I’ll call these guys proto cory and proto kat for simplicity.

In this world there was like two planes a real world and like a p5 esc metaverse. You could access the other world viva a website and one of the big twists was the characters thought they where getting transferred from the real world to the other one but really they got a cloned version of themselves made in the other world and then the the memories of both versions where synced up so the other world version had all the real world versions memories and vice versa because the real world version was always just sitting at a computer when the other one was awake there wasn’t any simultaneous memory conflict.

Proto kat was one of the users of this web site so he had a version of himself in both the other and real world but one day his real world self died which the other world one remembered but wasn’t effected by so he saw it as him having a second chance at life.

Proto Cory starts using the website sometime after this finds the other world version of his friend and flips out. He is terrified that his memories of him and his friend will be retroactively ruined and he dosen’t really see the other world version as his friend just a guy with the same face so he tries to kill him :) Proto kat tries to just avoid proto cory at first but eventually tries to kill proto Cory too because in his mind thats the only way he will be able to live and he knows if he kills off other world proto cory real cory won’t die so its totally fineeeeee

This story didn’t end up panning out. Even though I liked the main cast and these two and another character the rest just wasn’t making me excited anymore so I moved to another story that lasted like 3 weeks at most? I’m only bringing up this incarnation of the characters because this is where kat gets alot of his personality traits and some building blocks for other characters start showing up.

After this incarnation of the characters is scrapped I go back to the multiple bodies/identity shenanigans stuff from the second iteration and come up with the idea for Crows premise and Kat and Cory evolved from there to fit the new premise and ideas I wanted to explore.

I was either watching dead boy detectives for the first time or it was when the show got cancelled because I was thinking about it alot so I was getting really excited about supernatural stories. thats how crows went from magical girl sci-fi to sci-fi to super natural/low fantasy.

Tory doesn’t pull from any past iteration because he was specifically created for Crows and every aspect of his character is based on the lore/themes which is spoilers so I won’t go to much into it _^_

Morgan is based on my fear that I’ll start living out of fear of dying and not because I want to be alive. I thought hmm what would be an interesting theme to explore in a story about death and ghosts? Oh a character who is so afraid of death they forget to live so I drew from those two ideas for her character.

She also borrows a couple personality traits and concepts from characters from the aforementioned scrapped stories

Grey was made by reversing Morgan’s philosophy. she’s someone who wants to live so bad they forget to fear death.

Also steals from older characters

Tolver is based on a crane wives song because their new album beyond beyond beyond had just come out and I was really excited. I based him off of mad dog

also stealing from myself once again

Alex

alex actually used to be the protagonist of crows

it started as kat before kat fully became current kat

then alex

then back to kat again

I knew I wanted ghosts to be weakened by having photo’s taken of them so Alex was created to be the character who takes the photos. thats why I considered making her the protagonist but it didn’t feel right and once I decided to work of those two ideas her other traits just kinda evolved from their or came out of necessity. Tolver doesn’t have a foil? Alex can be Tolvers foil! I need a character to make the audience question what they’ve been told about ghosts? Alex! Ect ect

I was very into puzzle boxes at the time so I gave her that as hobby to because I thought a wooden puzzle box would be an interesting prop to interact with ghosts with.

she was also just ment to be abit of variety. everyone else’s problems are very steeped in the super natural so she was also ment to be a character who had problems you couldn’t punch , kick or talk your way out of like everyone elses.

Joycie

Joycie came from me thinking about Morgan. I was trying to figure out what would case Morgan to be hyper aware of her mortality and resistant to relationships so I created Joycie to be the character that kinda caused those issues and from there I realised that if that character found out about ghost hunting it would put morgan in a really difficult position and difficult positions are fun! So I added her to the main cast to force her and Morgan to interact and grow.

also self theft

James , Juliet and Jaime

sorry I don’t have better art of them :’)

I knew that there was going to be atleast two rival ghost hunting originations so I needed two characters to lead said organisations and I wanted them to have some kind of past relationship so thats how Juliet and james get invented. I thought it would be interesting if there was also a third person caught up in everything so jaime was created shortly after to be the third party caught between who had to choice between their two friends and those two friend’s conflicting philosophies and alot of their traits evolved to build up to that climax. I made them some who is conflict avoidant and a mediator someone who will often try to compromise and struggles with picking sides so it hurts all the more when they have to make the ultimate choice to go with one or the other.

and then I got attached to all three so they became important <3

Madeleine

The plot needed someone to give something to someone at some point in the past and that point in the past happened to line up with some really interesting lore stuff pertaining to the creation of ghosts and ghost hunting originations so they became more of a character because I wanted them to interact with the plot and they became the fourth person in the quartet.

character’s relationships with their parents?

Already answered here

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire? - Alex and Kat

Alex is Pretty reliable. They are a good problem solver and can work out lots of things intuitively without needing to be taught or told but their pool of skills is pretty small so though I have no doubt they’d be game if you called them at two in morning to help change a tire and they could probably do it after some trial and error they also probably don’t know how to do most things. 7/10

Kat is incompetent but would show up anyway because ✨people pleaser tendencies✨ he probably won’t help and the problem would get worse but he’s good at coming up with plans and organising things so he can be some help. If he messes up in most cases he will retract into himself and insist it’s better if he doesn’t do anything because it will just make it worse. 6/10

Cory knows a lot of life stuff like how to change a tyre and fix a sink ect so he’d probably be pretty reliable and will to help at any hour 10/10

Tory has the same level of skill and knowledge as cory + supernatural powers so you’d think he’d bee extra reliable? No! He has crippling self worth issues which prevent him from helping with anything unless its necessary! So he can only be relied on in a life or death situation 1/10

Morgan has very few life skills and won’t engage in most activities due to paranoia so very unreliable but your more likely to get her to help you then tory so 2/10

Grey will not engage unless it interests her or she deems it important but is pretty helpful other wise and her range of things she finds interesting is quite wide so 5/10

Tolver is very unlikely to actually help you because he thinks people should solve all their problems on their own and if you can’t skill issue!!! Thankfully he is a massive hypocrite and will make exceptions easily 3/10

Joycie

Thinks she knows much more then she dose so will offer to help but is more likely to over assume her skill level and mess up terribly then to actually know what she is doing 4/10

Jaime

Wide range of skills and is used to dealing with demands at unreasonable hours very high tolerance 8/10

James

Knows stuff but is likely to turn on you if you criticise him and leave. Has a “Well then you do it if your so smart” attitude and though he will turn up to help you at unreasonable hours he will be very sleepy increasing the probability he will snap at you. 2/10

Juliet

Won’t respond even if its a reasonable request at a reasonable hour 1/10

Madeleine

Dead 0/10

Ithas 10/10 for spoiler reasons

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

Aaand extra bonus question, which one would get along really well with akitsu (if any) and which one would absolutely not (if any)

Kat - kinda similar characters. Both happiness pumps who think they need to suffer/deprive themselves of things / to have “actual problems” to be valued and who think their friends suffer more then they do and put said friends on a pedestal because of it. Thinks they can fix their friends akitsu by being the therapist friend and kat by being the strong friend.

that is to say I think they’d definitely get along but also that I think they’d reinforce alot of each-others worst attributes but they’d be silly while doing it so its alright.

Tory - Tory is sad , pathetic , tragic and probably a very easy person for akitsu to victimise and get along with. He doesn’t have emotional stability and social knowledge but I do(not) so I can help him!

Tory is very hesitant in all of his relationships so I can she him being pleasant and them getting along on surface level but not really becoming good friends.

Cory - conversely Akitsu would be very easy for Cory to victimise and as such I think he’d want to be friends with her and help her because he see’s her as having suffered and needing help and being overwhelmed and emotionally manipulated but idk how Akitsu would respond to being seen as the victim who needs saving so idk if they’d get along.

Grey - Grey thinks that hiding/faking your feelings/trying to get others to feel a certain way because thats what you want is kinda distasteful so I don’t think she’d actually like Akitsu all the much.

Morgan - Morgan doesn’t really get along with anyone and I think she’d fine Akitsu off putting just because she’s a new person.

Tolver - terrible. Mister therapy is a myth metal health is an excuse no one’s problems are all that bad they just want attention probably thinks akitsu is wrong and pathetic and terrible and I feel like akitsu might find him overly cruel and submissive of others. She wants to be therapist friend and Tolver doesn’t believe in therapy. This can only end “well”

Alex - I think they’d get on to a reasonable degree. Alex is pretty out going and conversational so they’d atleast talk to eachother. Akitsu maybe see’s abit of Mikage in her for spoiler reasons but otherwise Alex gets along with most people and I don’t see why Akitsu would be an acceptation

Joycie - Joycie would 100% sympathise with Akitsu! She’d think Akitsu’s murder wasn’t akitsu’s fault and that she’s a good person who just wanted people to be happy and to be a good thing…granted Joycie thinks anyone who isn’t her or like a serial killer is a good person though. She’d probably project herself onto Akitsu pretty heavily.

quick doodle of Akitsu if she was in the Crows world.

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

New in Town

Original work featuring @bellygunnr's and my ocs :o)

Sometimes the apartment where you live is overbearing and the new guy who moved in definitely has something wrong with him but he's trying his best, even if it makes the AI antsy.

-

You don't know the newest tenant, the one who was placed into 3-C on the corner above you. You haven't seen him on your morning run or the afternoon mail check or even on your evening trip to the shop on the corner.

You have seen a beat up yellow monstrosity in the parking lot and heard the whispers of a new guy, newer than you from both Mrs. Troy and Señora Goncalves. Mrs. Troy told you over tea after you heard it from Señora Gonclaves after little Samuel showed up at your door with a dish you had to wash and return.

You had no trouble eating, but apparently everyone in your building thought you couldn't feed yourself. Or maybe they just worried. It was sweet, if you hadn’t already caught the interest of an all-seeing mother hen.

It was just funny to you how it worked out. It was hysterical that Mrs. Troy was third in line to bother you about the newer than you guy. Kingfisher hadn't shut up about the new guy, being uncharacteristically verbose despite not attacking you, your lifestyle choices, nor the state of your laundry.

"He has a worse sleep schedule than you, so it's no wonder you don't see him. His background check has some obvious tampering, but I put him in 3-C for a reason and he hasn't done anything except fiddle with his tech and talk to me." It ends the tirade with a synthesized huff and you feel its cameras turn to you for a response.

"Sounds familiar." You reply easily, smug satisfaction welling up as you wait.

"Ugh, fine, yes. You were interesting for other reasons. And more obviously normal and boring. He's interesting and weird and perhaps a danger so I need to keep an eye on him."

"Maybe if you upped the listing price, Landlord, then you wouldn't get all these strange men moving in."

"Hmm. Yes, attracting strange single men with nothing good going on in their lives has led to some problems."

"Ouch! Where's the first law draw the line with “do no harm”? You get mean when you're worried." You toss back as you rummage through your fridge. It was getting a little barren. You stand and peer out the window above the sink. Flowery curtains do nothing to obscure your view of the clouds coming in.

"I'm not worried. I'm vigilant."

"Uh huh. Well, Vigilant, that bright yellow eyesore is coming down the lane so you can creep on your new favorite tenant some more." You snip back.

"He better not be bringing in any more weird plants. You humans and your need for green and fresh air." It grumbles.

You peek out between the blinds and see the man stumble out of his car weighed down by grocery bags.

"Maybe I should go check the mail." You say.

"It hasn't come yet."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to look."

"It's too early for contact! You'll give something away! You're terrible at controlling your face." Kingfisher’s usual blue waveform fuzzes into orange as it gets riled up. 

"Nothing but nice things from you today. Why don't you sit there and get some datapoints from me having a normal interaction with a normal guy that you're probably freaking out with your terrible nosey looming."

You stare in silence at the camera above your front door. The interactive screen next to it has returned to the cool blue of Kingfisher Apartments. Complete with the bird logo shooting daggers at you with its eyes.

It extends for the length of time it takes for you to put on your shoes and grab your mail key off the table.

"I don't loom."

"We'll talk about it when I get back, okay dear?"

-

You close the door and take the stairs at a light jog, reaching the bottom and ducking into the mailbox alcove right as the new guy rounds the bushes and comes into sight of the front door.

You fumble the key into the lock and get the box open in time to hear him start to struggle with the door. A quick glance at the lobby camera. You wink, just to be annoying.

"Oh hey, let me help you with that!" You say, a polite smile on your face. It is genuine, but inside is another kernel of glee as you pat yourself on the back for this performance. "You're new, right? Welcome to the building, I'm over in 2-F."

The new tenant nearly drops his bags and whatever expression was on his face as he mumbled to himself during the journey from the car to the front door is gone.

He stares at you like kicked a kitten in front of him. You smile and then look away, eyes darting as you reflect on how you might have fucked up while holding a door open. This stranger looks like he's being crushed under the weight of too many plastic bags for a single journey up three flights of stairs.

The headphones around his neck make an unpleasant sound and he puts one handful of bags down to mess with the volume. It’s an old thing, analog tech with buttons and wires and not a touchscreen in sight.

"Sorry, yeah hi I'm Aiden. I haven't really met anyone here yet. Just had to run out and grab some food." You look him over as the guy overcorrects into nonchalance seemingly at gunpoint. After a moment his face drops again and he looks like he's wincing.

You, having worked retail, carry on like nothing out of the ordinary has happened. "Nice to meet you, I’m Graham. Can I help you get this stuff up the stairs?"

His eyes dart from you to the cameras to the staircase and the elevator.

"Or we can take the elevator, if you'd like. Looks like you have a lot to carry."

"Stairs!" He nearly shouts, "Stairs are good. I could use the exercise."

You blink and plaster some kind of grin to your face. Stooping to grab his bags and think of some normal conversation points, you grunt as you lift the four bags he had in his left hand.

He looks at you as you let out a soft 'oof'. You readjust the bags and smile. What the hell did this guy buy at the gas station up the road?

One bag is filled to the brim with instant mac and chips, but the other 3 are heavy as hell and seem to have milk, butter, and sacks of sugar and flour?

"I uh, needed some essentials."

"Hey man, no worries. I was the same when I moved in." You say through grit teeth. You work out so this shouldn't be hard, but goddamn what kind of guy buys 3 packs of butter when he moves in. Is he eating it by the stick?

"Like I said I'm over on the second floor if you need anything, and the neighbors around here are nice. They'll feed you as soon as look at you." You huff a laugh as you turn up the second landing. "Where are you?"

He struggles behind you with his own bags, now split between both hands. You can't hear the noise from the headphones but you swear it sounds almost like laughter. "3...C" He heaves out between gasps for air.

The guy is at least a head shorter than you and then some. He’s also skinny as hell. Wiry type of build buried under a bulky jacket and fraying shirt. He doesn't have any bad vibes about. Just weird. Antsy. The kind of guy you'd imagine gets drug along into things or accidentally gets in over his head.

3-C seems to mock you both as you make it to the apartment. The threshold seems less friendly than the other off white rooms; something about whatever is behind it sets off your nerves in a way the guy, Aiden, hasn't. Something like a chill passes over you and you look over your shoulder while he unlocks the door.

He stumbles inside with his bags with a sigh of relief, and then remembers you. There's anxiety in his eyes as he looks over his shoulder into the gloom of the room. You smile and hold out the bags and wish him well again.

"Welcome to the building." You smile and wave over your shoulder. You keep your pace normal until you reach the stairwell and jog down it. It's not until you're in your own apartment again with the door locked do you say anything to Kingfisher.

"Can you get haunted?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Aiden seems fine, scared, hiding something, but I didn't read him as dangerous. But his apartment feels...off. Scary off."

"Oh so we're using your gut to vet people now? And of course I can't get haunted. Ghosts aren't real."

"You don't know that."

[speci-society]

the people have spoken heres the list (alphabetically)

In use

42.35479, -101.48729

AloneSnail71 "Snail"

Another's Arms

Iteration: Antares (1)

Apollo

Aria Celeste

Arvin Fenwick

Artemis

Dr. Arthur Alice Addington

Austin Wallace

Azrael "Pixie" Castillo

Dr. Barnesi Carukia

Bill Dillard

Cadence

Captain Callisto

Friend-Entity Ceres

Charlie "Charlie Circuit" "Charlie Warthruster" Howard

Cheez-It

Cherry Smallhurt

Chip

Chronoraiel

Cici Caspian

Clementine Cooper

Colzos Ludasnath

The Crouste Family

Cyrus Reid

Dakota Sanguine

Damien Immel

Danman Omega

David Abernathy

DAWN EYRE and STEREO MIKE

Dean B. Crewe

Delta "Zip" Marshall

DJ Deathwish

Dynamite and Flashbang

Dr. Edward Crow Boccaccio

Eileen Rose

Elliott Way

Emily Lévêque

Erebid Astaret

Euphoria

Researcher Europa

EXIDY-0110

The Extended Universe

Ezekiel Riorin

Voyager Ganymede

Fig

"Dr." Fink Stoma

Fortitude

Habrix

Harmony Flores

Hell's Kitchen

Holy Vapor

I LOVE YOU/Love Bug

Io the Undaunted

Iron Dynamo

Isaac Abernathy

Izzy Vazquez

Java

Jenny "Cam Flash" Dunn Millard

Jude King

Jude's Dead Boyfriend

Jude's Missing Girlfriend

Junipere Zameia

Justice

Kaphon Lorciar Heskan

Kass

Kotone Doremi

Lappy

Legacy

Lelane Bonk Bighurt

Levimine Noell Tobias Way

Listening Thing

Lorelai Edie Howard

Lyra "Raven" Adgolor

Mac

Maid Knight

Maria Abernathy

Marina Neoma

Mattie Rose

Maxwell

Mike "Stereo Mike" Martin

Monica Tempest

Milo G.T. Midnight

Misty

Mystery The Horse

Nada

Nescoria Kruldrenaal

Nico

Nikolas Crouste

Novalord/Mortalord

Null

Orbital Strike

Order Lord

Paperdoll

Paragons of Acceptance

Pepper Immel-Boccaccio

Pickles

Piper Sterling

Plague Doctor

Polo

Python

Ronny

DJ Red

River

Rory Morales/RORYKATZXP

Ruby "Waveform" Chip

Scott

Sigma

Smolder

Spark

Spilo Astaret

Star and Eclipse

Sun Lord

Sylphine Wynra

Tallulah

Tam Hyatt

Terra Baylock

Ticking Timebombs

Trevor C.

Tutorial Subject

Unnamed June mother

Unnamed Levi mother

Valentina Sangria Crouste

Verthus Kruldrenaal

Vexx Valentine Rexxwood

Dr. Vineon Astaret

Viola Loretta

Vivian Angelivio

VOLT

Xavier

Wendell Lestat

Wyatt the Guide

Yorzire Kruldrenaal

Zach Simon

Zinnia Perthyra

Dr. Zylovar Elren

Not in use (not alphabetical)

Unsure if i wanna use them or not they're kind of in oc limbo

Guy Manderson

Society for Otherworldly Experimentation

Gabriel

Lock

Riddle

Chenri

Ms. Marybeth

Kennedy Lansky

Atticus Gardner

Ari Oyama

Rowan

Other Jude

Giovanni

Gregory

Lilac

Venus

Finn

Cecilia

Mercury

Vicky Karmino

Dante Karmino

Maurice Fletcher

Theatris

Mark Barista Boy

Carlo Barista Boy

Dylan

Suzie

The girl Dylan met in the lab whose name escapes me but she had red hair

Wyatt

Kyoto

Other Sigma/Oliver

Other Atticus

Dako

Vox

Arcturus

Capella

Brooklyn

Lori

Asenneth Lucia

Harendra Lucia

Kaela Lucia

Tarell Lucia

Maggie Dreemurr

Steve

Herobrine

Eva

Other guide whose name i dont rember who was scared of heights

Adam the Enderman

I'm about to list out each and every endercat. brace yourself

Crystallite/Amber

Percilla

Selena

Eliza

Sagin

Jade

Whilma

Laura

Sara

Midnight

Angel

Pandora

Gania

The snow one

Ignis

Nivva

Susan

Herobrine Again

Those 4 angel characters i dont remember the name of except Lydia

Luke

Zach

Tahli

Laura

Tori

Other Susan

Anabelle

Mary

Carrie, Mary’s twin

Max

Millie

Grimm

Herobrine yet again

I literally almost forgot abt ATOTD. Fuck me

Terry

Queen Aquarius

King Taurus

Another Dylan. the more important Dylan

Alt. Dylan

I do NOT remember if it was me or a friend of mine who made Dr. Beatrice and Oni. Will take this entry off if i am incorrect

Chaos Kitty

Kem

Am I including Hairy and Claude and the robot from 3rd grade? Yes, yes i am

Love

Care

Naivete

Watch

Spirit

Pa'yme Alvalok

Iscienth Sarrus

Avarus Alvalok

Beth Grant

Kageleth Avalok

Bernadette

Town of Clover

Sonar

Yea does anyone want my full unedited list of relevant ocs and possibly past ocs i dont use anymore but i have a record of their name somewhere. 217 of them roughly

[bcubedarts]

I can’t stand for fallin down I’m too sick to throw up and everyone keeps talkin and they can’t shut the fuck up cause I’m so tired

[borelle]

So.. I wanted to give an example of what androids look like before I draw the Baron himself so I can explain stuff.

Androids are commonly a cognitive transfer from a human to a robot with a similar likeness to the human. In this case, Waveform (the android depicted above) went through this cognitive transfer, and her android self is almost a direct copy of her human body. Androids commonly have LED screens covering the place where the eyes would be at, but if the human has more money they can get artificial eyes and remove the LED screen. Cognitive transfer is often suggested to dying patients who express their want to keep living. Androids are required to have some parts of their body reflect their internal status, with green being neutral or healthy and red being damaged. To remove this feature (which Vanda chose to do) is a crime, and an android who removes the feature and is caught could be fined and the feature re-added. 

In the case that the android was an AI prior, most androids still hold most of the form that the AI chose to manifest as, but with small tweaks in either outfit or hairstyles. 

Both android types have to follow the same rules in place by the government and Nexus Robotics. 

Cognitive Transfer Androids have quite a large controversy surrounding them, including how they do the transfer a person’s mind (and, by extension, all of the person’s memories) into an android. AI Transfer Androids lack any large controversy, aside from ‘Is it okay for an AI to become an Android?’

AI Transfer Androids are much more susceptible to the ML.STRM virus as the original AI was mostly a program with codes that the AI itself could change to determine personality and traits. Cognitive Transfer Androids are less commonly infected with the ML.STRM virus and few of the infected Cognitive Transfer Androids are asymptomatic.

[bowties8glasses]

what's one of your favorite character design traits?

a bit of a catch-all term but Character Expressions Under Limitations is the coolest thing

a lotta my OCs have very strict rules* for their facial expressions, their eyes and mouth can only be a certain way and such, if they even have those.

have yet to show much of her here but

Sugar's face can only be a (IwI), ('I^I'), (>w<) or a combination of the three, but you can squash, stretch and play with the size, lenght, angle and placement of those features, or just not draw one of them

so with some good intuition (and watching aggretsuko), you can do a lot with her

this is not even going over body language stuff which is another big favorite related to this. another one of my OCs (named Gloo) has a completely static face, you cannot do anything it, so you have to use body gestures to convey her current emotion

oh! and then there's making your own kind of expression and body language, stuff like faces that are just a waveform expressing through specific kinds of waves, or how the fire tip in Charmander's line bursts and sparks differently based on their current mood, it all rules

(from Pokemon Art Academy)

[daandyli0n]

thanks, Wren!

last song: easy by waveform

favorite colors: blue, yellow, peach, and mint green :]

currently watching: Youtube

last movie: i don't really watch movies much, so. nothing really

sweet/spicy/savory: sweet and spicy! like them both equally :]

current obsessions: qsmp, dsmp, and some ocs that are still in my head, currently

relationship status: in a QPR! :D

if anyone wants to do this, y'all can!

was tagged by @wizardfvcker for a tag game YIPPEEEE THANK YOU!!

Last Song: front street by will wood. the song ever

Favourite Colour: ORANGE!!!

Currently Watching: technically what im currently watching as in. i havent finished it yet is staged but most recently ive been rewatching doctor who episodes <3 you rose tyler

Last Movie: UMMMMMM i watch so little movies i think it was probably barbie?? i liked it.

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: SWEET!! i love sweet foods

Current Relationship Status: single *atomises

Current Obsessions: honestly the usual suspects. good omens ace attorney disco elysium theyve carved little holes in my brain to sit in. also deadloch a little bit. non media im making patch jackets and learning keyboard rn!!

Last Thing You Googled: cabbage recipies..... im making okonomiyaki at the weekend but i know im going to have like three quarters of a cabbage left over that i wont know what to do with

tagging @ace-ace-attorneys @mutxnts @demonblush @monimolimnion and @dragonitepaw but i think a few of you might have done this already so feel free to ignore it HAHAHA

[starryeyes2000]

Volte-Face: Chapter 37

Read on A03 or FFN

Pairings: Christopher Pike x OFC (Aalin)

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: On her first mission as a member of Starfleet, interpreter Aalin Matthews is stranded on a war-torn world ten days’ journey from a haven. Safe passage for Federation personnel has been revoked. Hostile forces are hunting the orphans she is protecting. As she and the children make the dangerous trek, the crews of both Enterprise and Shenzhou work behind the scenes to aid them.

Banned from intervening, from returning to the planet, from scanning for Aalin’s location, Captain PIke must decide whether to ignore the prohibitions or risk intensifying the conflict, a choice complicated by his personal feelings for Aalin. And Spock must come to terms with his decision allowing her to remain behind; should the worst occur, it will be the first time the young lieutenant has lost someone under his command. Both Pike and Spock undertake a dangerous mission among the brutal people who invaded their neighbors in order to protect Aalin and the children and end the war.

Excerpt:

Five Months Ago Enterprise Orbiting Varia

As Aalin woke the wall and overhead lights gradually illuminated. Fluttering lids scratched against eyes like sandpaper, sore muscles protested movement, repeated swallows granted no relief to a dry throat. Skin on her chest and left arm, tender to touch, itched. Her head hurt. She propped on elbows and her eyes swept the space. Its floor to ceiling windows were one-way, transparent into the room, opaque to its occupant. Medical equipment littered the walls parallel to her bed.

A vague memory surfaced, someone at her side smoothing and tucking a blanket around her.

What happened?

Conversation sounded nearby. “... Ms. Matthews … Varian language translation … no solution …” Easing up and out of the bed, feet bare rendering her footfalls inaudible, and clothed in the knee length cross-tied blue gown of Sickbay, she followed the voices.

M’Benga, Chapel, a science officer, and their captain faced a three-dimensional hologram. With more force than necessary, Pike’s hand cast the picture onto a wall-mounted screen which flattened the intertwined patterns into rows of individual images. He pinched the bridge of his nose then said, “Again, Spock, from the beginning using words with fewer syllables.”

“We have little accurate data to work with. All recordings made of Varian speech prior to Ms. Matthew’s collapse were truncated. Software interpreted the frequencies beyond what Federation science believed possible as erroneous and eliminated them.”

“Damn foolish design choice,” M’Benga muttered. “Which came too close to claiming a life.”

Pike couldn’t stifle a slight wince. He said, as if repeating another’s words, “I can’t point to a concrete example, but the recordings of their language seem off.”

“Sir?”

“An observation Ms. Matthews made. Months ago. During a briefing at the State Department. She downplayed the assessment and no one, including myself, followed up on it.”

Reaching the conference room, Aalin stopped at its threshold, behind them, silent, and unnoticed. She tuned out the Vulcan’s continuing presentation instead studying the waveforms displayed on the screen. “Are those voices?”

Continue reading on A03 or FFN

Story Masterlist | Series Masterlist

OC Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Taglist: @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @ocappreciationtag @bardic-tales @themaradaniels @chickensarentcheap

[qwanderer]

There is a Bad Noise in the warehouse and Kevin decided to wake up to help me cope. So good news and bad news. Kevin is awesome.

The Bad Noise is because they're redoing the warehouse roof and there's a truck outside making a helluva racket. It makes everyone's head vibrate unpleasantly so at least I'm not alone in my discomfort. Like I would be if the bad noise was in the mosquito range.

I honestly don't know how the folks at the pack table are going to manage. They have set workstations. I'm a wanderer, I do my work mostly on rolling carts, so I've been seeking out the cool spots in the waveform and rolling the carts to them. It's still noisy but it's not nearly as skull vibratingly intense.

Kevin is helpfully reminding me that it's okay to do things that look silly if it helps me do my job. If I do my job well, that's where the real respect comes from.

I'm not sure but I think Kevin might be the first of my OC muses to wake up. He's definitely built out of components that I was already familiar with, all my characters are, but Kevin is made of pieces of myself and pieces of people I know and famous personalities.

He might be a version of Eben Keth, who come to think of it was noisy even before I started really talking to my muses. He liked to look through my eyes and give me poetry about stuff.

Anyway gotta go back to work I guess. I'll try to keep my brain from vibrating out of my skull.