#spiritual medium oc

[morvantmortuary]

sugar high -

(Hector Morvant-Casares x Reader)

summary: Hex invites you along for an afternoon errand.

warnings: brief descriptions of a depressive episode. a shit-ton of fluff. like, syrupy, frothy fluff. I’m not kidding. you watch your teeth.

general: for Spooky Season in the Barrens: apple cider, candy corn, skulls. 🍎💀

I’ll be honest, Hex is not usually my go-to fluff guy, but goddamn if he doesn’t have a whole mushy side when you let him talk a bit.

Any corrections on his Spanish are appreciated - I double-checked everything and tried to stick with Mexican localization, but I’m still learning. :’D

also, I know so much more about the making of calaveras than I did last week. hot damn, those can get involved. any suggestions or needed corrections there (or with any discussion of the holiday) are also appreciated.

reader is as always genderqueer/non-binary (but I stuck to feminine endings for Spanish bc those are what I’m more familiar with, sorry :’D), and I write them as bisexual but that’s not explicitly mentioned here. any tweaks to language so people can have a more seamless experience are always helpful.

okay, hope this helps brighten your day a bit. 🖤

You didn’t even have to look up from your book to know who was calling you, and wasn’t just texting like a normal person.

Without looking up from your page, you reached over and answered with the tap of one finger, then put him on speaker with another. “Who dares?”

“Hey, so, I’m madly in love with you. Do you wanna go out with me? Like, right now, or I’ll die of loneliness?” Hex said it like he was asking about the weather. The mustang’s motor purred in the background, and the faint thud of some dance remix on low drifted through your phone’s speaker like a tinny distant dream.

You smiled, closing your book and setting it beside you on your mattress. “Hmm. That depends.”

“Depends? Ouch. After my very sincere confession?” Hector laughed, making you smile wider. “Depends on what?”

“We-ell.” You stretched the syllable out as you stretched in turn, then collapsed back onto your pillows. “I’m very busy having a lazy afternoon, you see.”

Pale autumn sunlight danced in dappled patterns on your ceiling. You’d successfully managed to change from your pajamas to your comfiest sweats after taking a luxuriously long bath. This was only topped by the fact that you were currently cozy in a bed with a book that had been on your TBR for months, that you’d been swearing you’d get around to, for real this time.

“Is that so?” You heard the click of his turn signal, apparently not given pause by your demurring.

“Yes, and I’ve had it scheduled all week. I simply can’t cancel on myself again,” you explained, waving a hand lazily. “…Unless.”

“Te escucho,” Hex prompted. You heard him tapping on his steering wheel with his index fingers, restless. “Come on, lay it on me.”

“I could only be convinced to cancel on me if you had some really, truly spectacular, showstopping way to sweep me off my feet, that I just had to drop everything for right now.” You fought to keep your tone as serious as possible. “So this better be a really fabulous proposal, whatever comes next. Lots of pressure. Definitely overthink it.”

Hex sucked his teeth audibly, pretending to think. “Damn, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go grocery shopping with me.”

“I’ll get my jacket.” You slid off your bed, stretching again from where you’d be laying there in a marathon session with your novel. “How close are you?”

He laughed again, low in his throat with that little bit of rasp that felt like his fingers in your hair. A second later, you heard the short beep of a car horn in your driveway.

“Oh, shit. Be right there!” You grabbed your phone off your bed and hustled now for the door to your room.

“Relax, baby, no hurry,” Hector said, his voice echoing slightly in your hallway as you moved. “Maxi just asked me to pick some stuff up for this pre-need thing he’s throwing tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” You slid into your shoes where they were piled by your entry way, and then grabbed your bag for whatever wouldn’t fit in your pockets - charger, headphones, anything you’d want if you headed to his place after. “…What’s a pre-need again?” You topped all this off by pulling on one of Hex’s hoodies that you’d stolen from him ages ago, fitting you comfortably as it did every time. You’d have to sneak it back into his laundry soon, you knew — it was beginning to smell more like you than him.

“Ugh, don’t worry about it.” Hector sighed so loud you could almost hear his eyes rolling. “Basically lots of little old and anxious people start getting antsy and thinking about death in October, because skeletons, so he offers this afternoon thing where he teaches them how to set up all their funeral stuff in advance. Es hella aburrido, which is why he has to offer the free food.”

“Ah. That all makes sense.” You stepped outside and made a point to lock your door. Granted, Hex was the only person you could conceive of who had ever broken in - or who would ever want to break in - but still. Greymoon was a weird town.

One never knew what, exactly, was going to turn up as dusk claimed a larger and larger share of the hours.

You hung up the call as you pulled the passenger door open, leaning over to kiss him before you closed it. “So what all do you serve at a funeral tutorial-thing?”

“Oh, you know— hey,” Hector paused, eyeing your clothes critically before looking at you with theatrical levels of suspicion. “You told me you hadn’t seen that one.”

“What, this?” You feigned innocence, looking down at his hoodie. “Oh, I thought you meant your… other one.” The man had like ten, this wasn’t impossible. “Do you want it back?” You widened your eyes and pouted just the tiniest bit, certain he wouldn’t say no, but wanting to lay it on thick.

“Let me see.” He leaned over abruptly to take an exaggerated sniff of the hood and your hair, making you giggle and try to lean away. “Nah,” he concluded, sitting back up. “That needs another day.”

You were still giggling, adjusting the hood around your shoulders. “Another day for what?”

Hector took the car out of park, looking over his shoulder to pull out of your driveway even though he could do it in his sleep. “It needs time to get that good You smell in there. What is that, anyway? Perfume? Shampoo? Essence of angel?”

“Shut up, corn lord.” You swatted his shoulder, making him smile. “I only wear it as long as it smells like you, anyway.”

“Really? Aw. Sorry about that.” Hector grinned when you laughed again. One of his hands fell to its usual place on your knee as he pulled out onto the main road. “The hell do I smell like, anyway? Film developer and sadness?”

“No.” You intertwined your fingers together and squeezed his hand. “You don’t smell like sadness, Señor Artiste.”

Between Hex’s constant connection to the world after this one, his resulting insomnia, and his… already artistic temperament, you knew he occasionally had to fend off the depression that seemed to run in the Morvant line. Whereas Maxi diverted his restless version into constantly fixing and cleaning, and Rora’s manifested in squalls of anger and verbal venom, Hex’s ennui would lay him out flat for days — occasionally, weeks. You’d spent time before helping him excavate his bed from under piles of unfolded laundry that he’d just been sleeping around, and braiding his hair when he couldn’t find the energy to wash it. You knew he worried about letting you see him like this, and he’d confessed to you once during one of the worse episodes that he was scared it was too much to expect you to handle.

But just like the ghosts he channeled, it would eventually release him from its grip, and he would make a point to be just as sweet to you when it was your turn to deal with your inner demons.

“News to me.” Hector’s smile was a little more subdued now. “So, what, just film developer? Dusty house?”

“No, you smell like… hold on.” You held your free hand to your face, inhaling deeply from your sweater-paw. “You smell like… cinnamon. And coffee with chicory — like there’s any other kind down here.” You took another sniff, taking your time. “And something, like, incense-y? Is that from the viewing room?”

“Oh, nah.” Hex was quiet, and it stretched as you found yourself weirdly waiting for an answer.

He kept his eyes pointedly on the road and cleared his throat. “I keep some of the stuff my ma used to use in my closet. For emergencies.”

You blinked. Hector didn’t bring up that side of the family a lot. He didn’t really bring up either side, if he could avoid it, but definitely not hers. “Your mom burn incense a lot?”

“Yeah. Just for, like… ritual stuff. She was into that sort of thing.” He paused, and when the two of you were stopped at a red light, he lifted his steering hand to smell the hoodie he was currently wearing. “Weird. I’d totally forgotten it was up there.” He held it out and scrutinized it, as if to search for visible traces on the fabric. “Guess I’m just noseblind to it now.” He shrugged, but almost a little too hard. Like he was trying to shake off the idea.

You hesitated as the car pulled forward again, wanting to respect a sensitive topic, but still curious. “…What qualifies as an ‘incense emergency’?”

“Oh, the usual. One of the ghosts in the House gets too full of itself after a seance. Rora fucks up another taxidermy resurrection. Maxi gets a body for restoration that’s been in a car for a week.” He winked at you when you shuddered at the thought. “Any of the very sexy circumstances where you’d rather smell like something burning, or burning something beats something else in supernatural Rock-Paper-Scissors.”

“Yikes. I’ll keep that in mind.” There were a million more questions about it on the tip of your tongue, but you kept them in check as he parked in front of the smaller grocery store in town — the one that had the more unusual finds, depending on the season.

You were always slightly amazed at how he managed to pull the mustang in between some of the ridiculously large trucks that populated most Greymoon parking lots. Somehow, he always found a convenient spot for his little black car. Like magic, if magic could be used for something so mundane.

As the two of you got out, there was still the slightest shadow on his face as he closed his door. “So does that not, like, bother you?” When you gave him a confused look as you closed your own, he nodded to the hoodie. “I’ve had it in my closet forever; it must smell pretty strong.”

“Oh! No.” You circled around and wound your fingers through his again as he locked the car. “I like it, actually.” As the two of you headed inside, you found yourself swinging your hands together like a little kid; you were determined to lighten the mood back up to what it had been. “It’s layered with so much other stuff — your cafe con leche, your detergent, your developer. Your beard oil,” you added, which made him laugh sheepishly as the two of you passed through the automatic doors. “It just smells… I don’t know.” You racked your brain for the word. “Safe? Yeah.” You nodded. “You smell like home to me, you know? Now.” You wanted to keep talking, distract him from that earlier doubt with your current task. You scanned the aisles. “Do you have a list, or—“

You had to fight not to stumble when you were still walking and realized Hector wasn’t.

When you turned to check on him, he was looking at you with such soft, sincere eyes, you almost forgot the two of you had come to a stop next to a cluster of shopping carts.

Quietly, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours with a sweetness that seemed all the more so in his silence.

You couldn’t look away, your own tongue once again tied.

It was one of those moments that he made you feel like you were the only two people left in the world.

“…’Shut up, corn lord,’” he echoed at last, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched you over your own knuckles.

“You shut up, whatever.” You felt your face grow warm in a way that had nothing to do with the indoor heating against the October chill, and stuck your tongue out at him. “You know what I’m saying.”

“I do. But I still like it when you say it.” He winked at you again, and this time there was a trace of the casual cockiness you’d seen when the two of you had first started flirting.

The difference was that now, you knew it was a front. Hex’s confidence was low key when it was genuine — a quiet, unflappable certainty.

He only played slick when how much he actually cared could overwhelm him entirely.

“I really mean it, Hex,” you protested quietly, squeezing his hand. “You have to know that by now.”

“And take that sweet shit for granted? Qué va.” But he still took his time letting go of you.

He sighed as he had over the phone, back to pretending this was a chore. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He shoved a hand in a pocket of his own hoodie and pulled out his phone. With a couple of taps, he pulled up what looked like a text chain — you could see “pinche maxi” as the contact, followed by three skull emojis. “Got the list.”

You muffled a laugh, not wanting to be caught snooping. “Basket or cart?”

“The hell are you talking about?” Hector jokingly looked at you like you were crazy, before nodding pointedly at something ahead of you. “This is absolutely a cart situation, Bonita, come on. Eyes on the prize.”

Puzzled, you followed his gaze - and grinned, realizing exactly why he’d picked this store.

The Halloween candy display on the far side of the room was massive… but the stock floor was blessedly deserted.

You and Hex whizzed across the vacant produce section — taking turns balancing on the cart and pushing the other person — with only a brief pause to pick up a pre-cut veggie tray.

“There,” he said, before hastily checking off multiple items on the list.

You looked from the list to the tray, positive you’d seen ‘carrots,’ ‘celery,’ ‘cherry tomatoes’ as separate items. “Yeah, that has those.”

“Maxi’s going to complain and say he could’ve done it all himself,” Hector sighed, placing it carefully in the cart. “But he forgets how fucking picky he gets about setting up the extra chairs and the projector in the parlor, and stuff. That, plus having to cut everything just-so and arrange it on his little crudité board? He wouldn’t have time.”

You shrugged. “He can still put it all on the board if he wants to. It’s not like they’re gonna know.”

“That’s the spirit.” Hector snapped and pointed at you. “Primo needs to learn about artfully half-assing stuff. He takes all this pointless detail shit too seriously.” He paused to turn back and pick up a similarly packaged collection of cut fruit. “See? Boom. He didn’t even have those on the list; I’m just that thoughtful.”

“Clearly.” You couldn’t resist a smile. “Okay, so what else?”

“Cheese,” Hector said, as if this were obvious. “You always gotta feed grief with cheese.”

“But I thought this was for planning their own stuff?”

“It is, but have you seen how expensive shit is lately? They’re going to be grieving their wallets.” Hector pulled the cart behind him towards the dairy section with you balanced behind the handle. “You thought groceries were bad, you should see getting buried.”

“But isn’t your cousin on that whole...” You squinted as you tried to remember, gesturing vaguely. “Somthing-something against funeral poverty?”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean Louisiana isn’t still broke as shit. I swear to god, if it wasn’t for the damn House…” Hector sucked his teeth as he trailed off, staring down at two different cheese plates, then squinted at his phone. “Did he say…? Nah.” Seemingly satisfied, he picked up one of each and set them in the cart.

You raised an eyebrow. “Y’all expecting a big crowd?”

“Oh, hell no. We never get more than a few people at these things.” Hector looked at you, pointing to the plate with the slightly nicer variety. “That one’s for family.” He drew a loop in the air with his finger to rope you into the collective - something that still brought a bubbly warmth to your chest, even after you’d been dating this long. “We’re having that after, let the plebians have the cheap cheese.”

You laughed. “So glad I get to be included in the fancy cheese. I’m honored.”

“Only the fanciest of cheeses for you, mi amor.” Hex leaned up, giving you an obnoxiously loud kiss on the cheek. “Come on, we still need the important stuff.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s—” You were interrupted by your own delighted squeak as Hector rocketed with you and the cart towards the Halloween candy.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d giggled this much while just doing errands with someone. It had to mean something that you could leave your ideal day alone to go out and do something you normally dreaded, but still have more fun than your books could have ever promised.

Hector only just pulled you to a stop before any displays suffered an unfortunate collision, and you hopped off the back of the cart, the two of you sizing up the waiting shelves.

“Maxi said I could get Halloween stuff for this, but he said it had to be ‘tasteful’.” Hector gave the word some lazy finger quotes and rolled his eyes again. “Like I didn’t just see him buy one of those twelve foot skeletons. ‘It’s for the garden out back, Hex, it’s not the same’,” he quoted some little tiff they’d clearly had, doing a surprisingly good impression of his cousin’s accent around his own.

“So we’re definitely serving bleeding eye gumballs and gummy brains then?” you joked.

“I wonder if they still sell those plastic molds of hands.” Hector stroked his beard, pretending to ponder. “We could make ice hands with red food dye to put in the lemonade.”

“Crazy tasteful.” You nodded in agreement. “Or feet molds? Do they make those?”

“Ew, don’t be weird.” Hector gave you a look of fake disgust, making you both laugh before you split apart to browse in earnest.

“What about, like, mini chocolate bars? They’ve got like a million kinds.” You scanned the different shelves for the usual variety packs, finding a plethora of different groupings in brightly colored bags.

“You’d think, but no. Chocolate can melt and smear if people forget about it. And someone always forgets about it,” he added from the other side of the aisle, with a touch of that special exhaustion that comes from dealing with strangers. “And nothing that could’ve been remotely near peanut butter or nuts, Maxi said he needs a new epi-pen for the first aid kit.”

“Sure, fair. Can’t have anyone dying at the meeting about how to plan for dying. So that rules out…” You rotated slowly in place, taking stock of your options. “A lot.”

“Hey, that just makes my job easier.” Hector popped around an end cap, holding up two different versions of those holiday-themed marshmallows that had started solely as bunnies. “Skulls or ghosts?”

“For the thing or for us?”

“The thing.”

“Dude,” you laughed. “Like those little old and-slash-or anxious people won’t flip if we give them ghosts or skulls at a funeral planning seminar? You think they have enough whimsy for that?”

“Come on, it’s like, the whole reason we’re there. They gotta lighten up, man.” Hex rolled his eyes again. “Fine, I’ll just put them in the cart for after. Maxi can’t get mad at me if I bring him some, he loves this kinda shit.”

Your eyes fell on shelf of some old-fashioned candies. “Oh my god, I’m an idiot, this is so obvious.”

“How obvious?” Hector asked from the other side of the shelf.

You grabbed a bag of candy corn, inspecting the ingredients. “Nut-free factory! That’s a bonus!”

“Man, those poor factory workers.”

“Ugh, low hanging fruit.” You rolled your eyes, picking up another bag. “Come here.”

“Make me,” Hector teased, suddenly directly behind you.

“Jesus!” You whirled on the spot, startled at having not heard him sneak that close. “Behave.” You whacked his shoulder lightly with one of the bags you were holding.

“Jesus never behaved, that was like his whole deal.” Hector just plucked the bag from your hand, inspecting it before raising an eyebrow. “Candy corn?”

“What little old person doesn’t like candy corn?” You made an incredulous gesture with your free hand. “And like, these candy pumpkins.” You picked up a bag of the traditional pumpkins with the similar texture. “It’s classic for a reason.”

“Yeah, cultural indoctrination.” Hector smiled. “I can’t believe people actually eat this stuff willingly.”

“Oh, come on, it’s nostalgic as hell,” you said, placing the bags in his waiting hands. “It’s like being a little kid in your costume again.”

“Doesn’t mean it actually tastes good.” He nonetheless held still, tilting his head to look at the bag’s contents. “But sure, he can put them out in little decorative bowls or some shit, he loves those.”

You turned to set a last bag in his hands. “You honestly mean to tell me you don’t like candy corn?”

“I mean, I’ll eat it,” Hector said, sounding resigned. “But for the same reason as when I was small: because it’s there, and because it’s what we have, but not because I actually think it’s any good. Not that one,” he said, nodding to the last one you were holding. “We have enough.”

You frowned at the couple of bags in his hands. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, so at least there won’t be any leftovers.” You shrugged, then beckoned for him to follow you onto the next aisle.

“Are you kidding? The old people aren’t gonna make a dent in this, candy corn multiples the minute someone turns their back on it.” Hector followed you. “Don’t you know Halloween math?” He continued as you burst into laughter. “The same thing would always happen: Tia Mathilde would buy some candy corn, or those tiny pumpkins, and then the bowl in the kitchen would just keep refilling itself all season. It’d never get any emptier, even when I was sure the twins ate so much they were gonna puke.”

“Maybe she just kept buying more bags?” You looked over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. “Like how it works in the real world?”

“Nope, I’d check the trash whenever the bowl was full again!” Hector shook his head. “You watch, we’ll put this out, and then we’ll still be eating it until…”

You paused, turning once again to find Hector stopped behind you. “Babe?”

Hector didn’t answer, squinting at something on a shelf you’d passed.

“Something jumpscare you?” You walked back to peek over his shoulder.

“Yeah, those.” Hector nodded to a plastic box holding three small decorated sugar skulls.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know they started selling those here.” You paused, surveying the surrounding products. “I didn’t realize they sold imported anything here, to be honest.”

“Those aren’t imported,” Hector said, nodding at the label. Sure enough, it was one of the generic store holiday brands. “They’ve just realized they can sell them and actually make some money. Check the piping around the eyes,” he gestured loosely with the corner of one of the bags. “There are people who work for months to get the decorative ones right, the legit shit. Even the ones you give kids to eat, they take their time with. That looks like someone put the icing on with their eyes closed.”

“Oh.” You leaned forward, inspecting for yourself. The piped icing to decorate the facial features looked very haphazardly applied, some of it smeared against the plastic during transport. “I see what you mean, yeah.” You glanced back at him. “It’s like, the opposite of artful half-assing. Half-ass art-ing.”

“I don’t think that’s even half an ass’s worth,” Hector said, smiling again when he made you laugh. It faded though as he looked back the store brand calaveras. “And they’re charging how much, for that quality? En esta economía? Hell,” he shook his head. “If that’s what people will pay around here for shitty ones, I should throw a bunch together and sell them at the House. Maybe be able to afford that new lens I want.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to make those,” you said, looking between him and the sad little skulls. “I mean, I should’ve guessed, what don’t you know how to make—“

“I don’t,” Hector said, glancing at you. You giggled, and he grinned. “I’m serious. I mean, in theory, sure: it’s like — what’re those fluffy stiff fuckers — meringues, right? Eggs and sugar? Mold it and wait? But my mom always went down early and bought ‘em from this artist lady she liked. For the ofrenda, and an edible one for me so I’d stop trying to lick the decorative ones when her back was turned.”

You paused in your laughter at that image, hesitant. This was the second time his mom had unexpectedly popped up this visit, and the first time hadn’t been… happy, per se. “Did you guys do that every year?”

“When we lived here? Not always,” he shrugged. “Sometimes she couldn’t get down and back in time, so we’d just leave some extra treats out and hope people coming back to visit would understand. Plus, when Tia Mathilde was in a bad mood, she’d get snippy about what room Ma could set stuff up in. Eventually, she just kept a small ofrenda in her room so she didn’t have to deal with Auntie griping about the marigold petals on the carpet.” He sucked the inside of his cheek for a minute, his eyes distant. “…She always remembered when we lived with her folks, though.” He looked away for a moment, pretending to inspect his sneakers. “But by then I usually spent the day elsewhere. It was kinda crowded. Anyway. Come on, beautiful,” he said, looking back up at you abruptly. “We got veggies to put in the fridge, get my cousin off my back.”

“Yeah, definitely.” You were sure that wasn’t what was actually what had him preoccupied, but you didn’t press. You followed him back to the cart, the two of you heading for check out. Though he was friendly as ever with the giggly (clearly somewhat smitten) cashier, you noticed Hex was subdued again, not even making his usual joke of buying out all the day-old donuts with Maxi’s credit card.

By the time the two of you walked out with your bags, you were scrambling slightly, trying to figure out how to bring him back to the present so he wouldn’t linger too long in his reverie.

As the two of you loaded the groceries into the trunk of the mustang, you spotted it: a little tent set up on the far side of the shopping center, with a handmade sign and two elderly people bundled up in lawn chairs. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Hex looked up from closing the trunk when you tugged his sleeve, eyes refocusing like he was emerging from a daze.

You thumbed towards the cider stand. “You want some?” You smiled, hoping you weren’t being obvious. “My treat?”

“Absolutely not.” Hector shoved his hand in his pocket, quickly producing his cousin’s card once again. “We’re still on a very official mortuary errand, let it be Maxi’s treat.”

“Then shouldn’t we bring him some?” Your smile felt more genuine as Hex took your hand, threading your fingers back together as you crossed the cracked little parking lot. “Since he’s being so kind?”

“Eh, it’s a had-to-be there thing, he knows how it goes.” Hector shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing personal, this is purely business.”

“Ahuh.” You muffled a small laugh. “And Rora? None for her?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ emphatically. “La Reina made it perfectly clear she didn’t wanna come along. She didn’t help with grocery shopping, so she doesn’t get to reap the rewards of honest work.”

“Damn, you guys are cold-blooded,” you teased, hip-checking him lightly.

“Hey, I warned them fair and square, I didn’t wanna mix business and family.” He spread his free hand in an exaggeratedly helpless gesture. “This is what happens. It’s cut-throat.”

You were still laughing a little when the two of you reached the tent, and you couldn’t miss the rosy-cheeked elderly couple sneaking each other a knowing smile when they greeted you and Hex. A yellow lab sat up from where it had been laying sweetly at their feet, shaking itself and mirroring its people with a panting, tongue-hanging smile of its own.

You watched silently as the cider folks poured you both a full styrofoam cup and chatted with Hex, wondering if they maybe saw themselves in you two. If they had been like you once, feeling like there were only endless unknowns ahead of them, but had finally settled into a gentle present together - from the gentleman’s brief conversation with Hector, one filled with their apple orchard and their dogs, selling homemade cider on crisp afternoons.

As the two of you took your cider (with an extra cinnamon stick for Hex, since he asked the elderly woman with a polite yet roguish smile), you both made sure the lab behind its ears, Hector reminding her in multiple languages that she was a good dog before the two of you took your leave.

That wouldn’t be such a bad forever, you thought to yourself as the older folks waved goodbye. Just the two of you doing something little to make some extra cash, sitting together in the sunlight and chatting about everything and nothing while you waited for people to swing by. Riding home - a shared home, a house for both of you - in his old car, the tired quiet comfortable like a well-loved quilt.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the happy little noise Hector made as you both leaned against the trunk of his car, and you turned to see him enjoying a long sip with both cinnamon sticks still in the cup.

“Good?” you asked, smirking.

“Mmhm.” He pulled the rest away as if to inspect it, licking his lips. “Their spice blend is really killer. Fuck a PSL.”

“That’s why Greymoon never gets a Starbucks, they just know they couldn’t compete.” You took a sip of your own, and unwittingly made a similar noise. The taste that flooded your mouth was immaculately golden, the kind of distilled late afternoon sunshine from the romanticized autumns of years past. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”

“Right?” Hector nodded. “I didn’t think we had any witches around lately, but now I don’t know. Little lady over there might just be hiding a pointy hat at home.”

“Now watch, we’re both going to be magically enthralled to some ancient Apple God when we least expect it.” You took another long sip nonetheless.

“Hey, beats my current thing.” Hector shrugged, downing more of his.

Oh. Right. That.

The small hitch in your soft little idea of forever.

You took another sip, your mind torn in both directions: his mom, which was what you’d been originally trying to distract him from, and now the issue of his necromantic Chain, which you were wondering if you needed distracting from.

“You having flashbacks on me?”

You blinked, looking up to find Hector watching your face. His head was tilted, his small smile looking crooked as he searched your eyes. “Where’d you go, preciosa? You got all thousand-yard stare for a sec.”

“I’m good.” You smiled, trying to prove it. “Just… Fall.” You gestured to the gorgeous day, the drinks in your hands.

“…Ahuh.” Hector said, clearly skeptical. He took one of the cinnamon sticks out of his drink, sticking the end that had been in the cider in his mouth. “Try me anyway?”

You hesitated, not wanting to bog down the moment. “…Why do I get the feeling you did the cinnamon challenge when it was a thing?” you asked instead.

“Nuh-uh,” Hector lied, the way he turned from you slightly to chew on the stick giving him away.

You laughed, immediately picturing the worst. “It didn’t go well, huh?”

“No, because I definitely didn’t do it in a room full of people at a party. What’re you, a cop?” He pointed the stick at you accusingly as you laughed even harder, nearly snorting cider as you went to take another sip. “You got your little FBI man in your phone to go through mine for proof or something? That’s low, that sneaky bastard, he’s supposed to be on my payroll.”

“I love you,” you said through the giggles you were trying to smother.

“Obviously.” Hector threw his hair dramatically over his shoulder, but he couldn’t quite hold the bravado as he looked at you, his gaze softening back into that look from before. “…I love you,” he repeated quietly, his version somehow warmer than the cider in your hand.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he slid an arm around your waist as he kissed the top of your skull. You stayed there, enjoying the smell of the fresh cinnamon and the hoodie he was wearing.

“…Earlier,” you spoke just as quietly, afraid to burst this little golden bubble. “When we were inside, you said something about ‘if it weren’t for the damn House.’” You angled your head so you could see his face. “What’d you mean?”

“Oh.” Hector rolled his eyes somewhat, his hand moving your waist to fiddle with a drawstring on your borrowed hoodie. “I just meant we’d be outta here already.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to hold off on the automatic hurt that wanted to leap to the forefront. “‘We?’ Like you and the twins?”

“Eh, if they wanted to, sure,” he said, shrugging. “But we’d find each other again if we needed to, they know that. I meant you and me.” He looked down at you. “I’d take you and we’d move somewhere beautiful, like, tomorrow. Get the fuck outta here, go somewhere with something going on. A real art scene, or at least someplace with actual nightlife, maldita. Or maybe we’d be like those weirdos that live in a van,” he went on. “Move around a bunch of places for a while. Like, we’d live at the beach, until you got tired of the beach, and then we’d try the mountains or something, y’know?”

“Oh, so you’d take me, huh?” Your grin threatened to split your face, it was so hard and so real.

“Obviously,” he said, his bravado back with a wink that made you laugh again. “I’d have to, before you had a chance to think it through.”

“Hey, I might be more game than you think.” You reached up, twirling a lock of his hair around the end of your finger. “What about where you’d want to live, though?”

“That’s the easy part.” He hip-checked you gently, which just pushed you more against his arm as he squeezed you in a hug. “Long as you’re there, I’m good.”

You looked at him for a long moment, pretty sure the warmth in your chest now had nothing to do with the cider or your hoodies in the sunshine. “You wanna head back?” Your hand dropped to tug lightly on his sweatshirt. “So we can put the groceries away before we get completely distracted making out, and so we don’t have an audience?” You glanced out of the corner of your eye at the tent in the distance.

“Yeah, sure babe. One sec.” Hex’s arm supported your back as he dipped you backwards, holding you steady as he made a show of kissing you in front of the grocery store.

It took you two until the lab started barking across the lot to remember you needed to actually get in and start the car.

(perhaps I was the real corn lord all along. :)

if you read this far, I hope you treat yourself to something delicious today 🥰)

[aardpark]

Heyyyyy Tumblr sorry it’s been a minute I’ve been super busy getting ready to graduate from college! Here’s another animatic I made over spring break, a much shorter one than Dolorianism but I hope you like it 👉🏻👈🏻

[darkimpulsed]

thinking about... making some ocs...

[mystical-maelstrom]

General advice for if you have unwelcome spirits in your home.

First, you are an autonomous being, meaning nothing claims dominion over you except you. So you have full authority over your energy & the energy of your space.

I recommend a cleansing, sage is nice. You can say a mantra like "all negative energy is banished from this space, I invite loving energy into this space". Or deep clean your room with the intention of removing negative energy.

Then take a shower, put on uplifting music, and put salt on the windowsills/doors & a sprinkle in the corners.

You can ask that your energy be protected. & that should do it.

I like meditative mind on YouTube, they have some cleaning & protection music.

you can also use selenite to raise the vibration of your space & black tourmaline for protection. Put the black tourmaline in the corners & selenite can go anywhere, but under you bed/ like or in a night stand would be good.

[ap-kinda-lit]

Behold my Yugioh OC!

Amunet

artwork done by the ever so talented @la-caja-de-pandoras-art 💖 (thank you very much!!)

Daughter of the moon, disciple of Khonsu, radiant maiden of darkness, and the Pharaoh’s love

In Ancient Egypt, Amunet was a priestess to the moon god Khonsu and served at one of his many temples. Originally, she was born and raised as a devotee to the Greek goddess Artemis and grew up in one of the goddess’ cults. Amunet’s childhood consisted of training, frolicking and sports, and dancing in Artemis’ name. But this childhood came to a dramatic end when Amunet’s cult was destroyed during a military campaign and she was left on her own. She was soon found by the high priest of Khonsu, who right away recognized immense spiritual power in her, and thusly took her in. From then on, Amunet grew into a living saint. She devoted her life to serving the moon and all it stood for. She herself was essentially a human incarnation of the moon: radiant, mysterious, pure, and powerful. She was a master archer, a healer to the body and soul, an oracle, a medium between this world and the next, and an exorcist of malevolent forces. It was rumored she was a child of Khonsu himself or a deity in disguise.

In actuality, Amunet balked at these rumors. She was far from what people thought her to be. Beneath her serene and flawless exterior and the isolated life she lived, Amunet was a free-spirited, happy-go-lucky young girl with strong emotions and opinions yet also an open heart and mind and an overall love for the world around her. She saw beauty and wonder in anything and was able to find a bright side in even the grimmest situations. She could be strong-willed and have a fiery temper, which came out most of all when someone was being hurt or injustice was done. Being energetic, she loved athletic activities like swimming and archery and, like most priestesses, she dabbled in singing and dancing. Amunet also loved games, her favorites being the ancient board game senet as well as riddles and puzzles, and she was very proficient in them thanks to her wit.

Amunet was selfless to the point she put others above her, even at her ownn expense. She could be very shy and, in spite of her reputation, she had low self-esteem. She also could feel lonely and isolated. Nevertheless, Amunet was content as a servant to the gods and helping others. She had no thoughts of falling in love nor did she expect to, which was why she took the vow of chastity, swearing off marriage and relationships in the name of the gods. At the end of the day, few realized that Amunet’s true power lied within her large, pure heart.

Then came the day she met the young pharaoh Atem. The two met when Amunet treated him after a grueling duel. Right away they clicked. Atem was fascinated by the young priestess and Amunet developed an attraction to him. It began with stolen glances and coming up with any excuse to be around the other. Atem became a patron to the temple of Khonsu (the very one Amunet just so happen to serve at) and the two frequently shared walks and game sessions (which were long and exciting due to the two being quite the match) and Amunet helped him hone his archery skills. It wasn’t long before a secret correspondence of coded letters and hidden rendezvous were added. A passionate love affair struck up.

Unfortunately, it all came to a tragic end: the true nature of Atem and Amunet’s relationship was either known or at least suspected by those closest to them, including Aknadin. He was horrified by the relationship and saw Amunet as a threat. She had to go.

Amunet died in her pharaoh’s arms. Needless to say, Atem was devastated. Amunet was mummified and entombed beneath a statue of Khonsu near the temple she served. Not long after, a small oasis formed there and grew beautiful lotuses. Strangely, the lotuses there would stay bloomed in the moonlight, rather than retreating like their kind normally do.

[galacticquiltsystem]

Galactic Quilt System's Sideblogs

The following is the current list of our system's headmates' sideblogs as of 5/4/24! Note: if you got a follow from this account, it’s quite likely that one of our individual headmates wanted to follow you - you can probably guess who it was by checking out their individual blogs! :)

@gq-aina "Cherry Blossoms and Sparkles" This blog is run by Aina and focuses on anime, lolita fashion, and Japanese culture.

@gq-aphra "Mud Puddle Splashing" This blog is run by Aphra and focuses on goblincore content.

@gq-beetle "Bugs, Bugs, Bugs!" Content Warning: bugs, beetles, spiders, creepy-crawlies. This blog is run by Beetle, a headmate who loves all things bugs!

@gq-bivvie "Just Another Omega" This blog is run by Bivvie and focuses on omegaverse content from the perspective of an Omega.

@gq-canary "2BA Master" This blog is run by Canary and focuses on Pokemon-related content, including Canary's journey to play and beat every Pokemon game in existence.

@gq-fen "Recovering System Host" This blog is run by Fen and focuses on her journey to view herself beyond her system roles and her feelings as the current host of the system. Will contain a lot of parenting and cottagecore content. TW: cancer and infertility trauma.

@gq-fiasco "The Anarchist Blanket Fort" This blog is run by Fiasco and focuses on anarchist/leftist content.

@gq-francesca "Be My Neighbor" This blog is run by Francesca (a Fred Rogers factive) and focuses on positivity content, primarily as a way to cultivate a place for the rest of our system to go when we need positive reminders.

@gq-freckle "The Dollhouse" Run by Freckle, an adult Little (age regressor) in our system, her blog focuses on doll-related content, including her subsystem, which is comprised of dolls. A lot of Rainbow High and American Girl Doll stuff here!

@gq-fritzy "Little Fritter" This blog is run by Fritzy, a sfw adult age-regressor. This blog will focus primarily on agere content with an agender lens.

@gq-galaxy "A Star Reborn" This blog is run by Galaxy, a VTuber fictive ("OC") who started life as a literal star and after going supernova, awoke in a spaceship adrift in the stars in a new, humanoid form.

@gq-indica "Catnip Thoughts" This blog is run by a Sprigatito fictive who adores catnip and her namesake. It will contain 420 themes and content.

@gq-ivy "Modern Witching" Ivy's subblog features mostly Pagan and witchy content, as she is a center of spirituality within the System.

@gq-jasper "Aspiring Artist" What it says on the tin! Jasper is a lover of all artistic mediums and this blog will focus on creating and appreciating different kinds of art.

@gq-josie "Magic Is Kawaii" This blog is run by Josie and focuses on gaming content - primarily Magic: the Gathering.

@gq-julianne "Support Main" Julianne is a Soraka (League of Legends) fictive. She has split from her source somewhat, but still enjoys playing League and other competitive video games, even though she isn't very good at them.

@gq-kalylia "Sweet Swirlybun" A former system host, Kalylia, works on finding out more about herself and what life will be like for her now that she is no longer the host of the system.

@gq-leigh "Dreaming of Disney" This blog is run by Leigh and focuses on Disney content (franchises, movies, and parks).

@gq-maisie "The Language of the Loaf" Maisie adores baking and her blog will focus on that alongside cooking and all things food. Note: Maisie appears innerworld with darker skin. She is NOT "transracial" - we understand that our body is white and we in no way believe ourselves to be POC.

@gq-miku "Alt MikU" An alternate universe Hatsune Miku, this fictive-run blog will focus on our Miku and her journey to self-discovery and self-fulfillment.

@gq-monstera "Cryptozoology Jams" This blog is run by Monstera and focuses on various cryptid and monster content, including fictional franchises like Monster High.

@gq-nadia "Poolside Bookworm" Nadia's sideblog will feature reading content, book reviews, poolside pictures, etc.

@gq-oakley "Pups and Pastures" Oakley is a former horse girl and her blog will feature tons of content about her special interests: horses, dogs, and dreams of van life.

@gq-olivia “Middle of the Ride” Olivia is an adult age regressor who regressed to a more “middle” age in the 10-12 range. She loves Webkinz, Neopets, Flight Rising, and other browser based games.

@gq-paradigm "Kawaii Paradigm" Paradigm is a cozy video games streamer. Her content will focus on cozy and wholesome video games.

@gq-pichi "Poke-Pals Space" This blog is run by age-regressor Pichi and will focus on Pokemon content specifically from an agere perspective.

@gq-pippa "Pippa's Palace" This blog is run by Pippa (a MINOR) and will focus on her various interests as a young teen, which include Minecraft, skincare, and princesscore.

@gq-ponycrew "Friendship is Plural" This blog is collectively run by the Galactic Quilt System's My Little Pony subsystem and includes both canon and oc fictives. It will focus on MLP content.

@gq-rowan "The Threehouse" Rowan is an adult age regressor (Little) in the system who loves nature and cottagecore. Her blog will feature these themes.

@gq-sanrio "The Sanrio Squad" This blog is collectively run by the Galactic Quilt System's Sanrio fictive subsystem and will focus on Sanrio content.

@gq-saoirse "Selkie Secrets" Saoirse is a very shy headmate and also an adult age regressor. She loves selkies, seals, cold weather, and related things.

@gq-sebby "The Littlest Anarchist" This blog is run by Sebby, an adult age-regressor, and will focus on alternative little content (punk and spooky themes).

@gq-seren "Parchment and Dice" This blog is run by Seren, a half-elf, and will focus on various tabletop rpg content.

@gq-skipper "Clowning Around" Skipper's sideblog focuses on clowncore, clowning, puppets, and circus arts - her favorite things!

@gq-story "A Storied Tapestry" Part of our healing process is handled by Story, a headmate who creates short stories based on our headmates, innerworld experiences, and especially our fictives' pseudomemories. She'll post these stories here.

@gq-syskids "Kiddos in a Trenchcoat" This blog is collectively run by the Galactic Quilt System's SysKids. These are MINORS, so the blog is closely monitored by the system's internal parent, Fen.

@gq-therians "Tails 'n Paws" This blog is collectively run by the Galactic Quilt System's therian subsystem. Therians in this subsystem include a fox, bat, rabbit, otter, tanuki, wolf, raccoon, maine coon cat, possum, and ermine.

@gq-toybox "Quilted Toybox" This blog is collectively run by the Galactic Quilt System's soothers/companions who are living toys. It will include a lot of art and perhaps their thoughts on their roles.

@gq-triagetrio "Chronically Cute" This blog is run primarily by Chronic and will focus on disability and chronic illness content. The other members of the system's Triage Trio (Crescent, who handles acute body injuries, and Cupid, who handles acute body illnesses) may also post here.

@gq-vikki "Seaside Dreaming" Asiavik aka Vikki loves marine biology and blogs about all things life in and around the water. She's very autistic and marine biology is her special interest.

[rainbowdelicsunshine]

Whatever aU first comes to mind upon reading this for the 5 hcs game! :DD

As you probably predicted, I'm choosing to talk about my OceanBerry AU (aka my Chucky AU/Retelling of the Chucky TL)!

1. You remember the three human friends that Chucky is buddies with that I've talked about in this post long ago?

Well I FINALLY have found some live action faceclaims for them!! (Please don't take the IRL ages of these actors into account since I only need them to demonstrate appearance)

Here they are!

(Left to Right)

Don Rivers: Bruce Willis (as David Dunn in Glass)

Zach Galifianakis: Jerry Hickens (as Ethan Chase in Due Date) (and w only a bushy mustache)

Blake Anderson: Bob Berkeley (as Blake in Workaholics)

2. I have also found live action faceclaims for Glen's boyfriend Kahuna and Glenda's girlfriend Natalie (OCs of mine) as well!

And same as the first time, real ages of the actors does not factor in choosing them as a faceclaim, only appearance is!

(Left to Right)

Kahuna Mahelona: Jason Scott Lee (as Mowgli in Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book (1994) (add on hair/bangs that covers his eyes + slightly more muscular)

Natalie Winchester: Kim Director (as Kim Diamond in Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2) (have hair dye at the ends of her hair instead of being streaks in her hair)

3. Chucky and Eddie are in the midst of attempting to reconcile and reestablish their adoptive brotherhood (since before the Big Incident in 1988, Chucky and Eddie regarded each other as brothers)

They still have a LOT of sour feelings on each other's ends for their own respective reasons (Chucky for being abandoned when he needed his little brother the most and Eddie for literally being blown tf up)

Eddie is still much more resentful than Chucky since Chucky started to feel more thankful towards Eddie as time went on with having his family, Eddie tends to be a lot more snappier and grumpier around Chucky but is still able to tolerate him and even sometimes have a good bonding moment like they used to

Chucky on the other hand just acts like how an asshole big brother would to their little brother, just messing with them in stupid ways like how they used to do as kids/young adults

4. If anyone ever wanted to know what John/Dr. Death does in his free time/where he lives in the Ray house, he basically just keeps to himself in the attic of the house studying and practicing his magic and spirituality

He does come down to other parts of the house on occasion and regularly interacts with the Rays (but talks to and hangs out with Eddie the most), since he acts as the family's advisor/guide the kids and Chucky tend to go to him in the attic a lot since he tends to have knowledge they need

The state of Chucky and John's friendship is still... Icy but is much better than it was before!

I also HC that they were childhood friends as well, thus that being how Chucky found him to teach him Magic and Soul Bending/Shifting (what I'm calling the spell/s where Chucky would transfer souls and such) and Soulmancy (what I'm replacing the Voodoo with cuz yall know why)

If you are unfamiliar with John Bishop and his role in OceanBerry, here is this post!

His Appearance/Info

5. The Rays do, in fact, have a dog that acts as a family companion and guard dog that keeps the house and the kids safe (in Chucky's words) that they all got as a puppy when the youngest (my Chiffany fankid Buddy) was around 9 years old

The dog is a 4 year old medium sized but very muscular German Shepherd/Pitbull Mix that's dubly named King Ghidorah, very vicious, strong and protective of his property and family when need be, but is most of the time a giant sweetheart that likes to think he's a lapdog

Fun fact: King Ghidorah was given to The Rays by Chucky's friend Jerry when he had found the pup in a box of "free puppies" that was stationed in front of the Walmart that's in Hackensack and decided that a puppy from that box would've made a GREAT birthday gift for Buddy

Ofc, since Buddy was a 9 year old, he LOVED it! King Ghidorah is now closest/bonds the most with Buddy, Chucky, and June/Junior all in that order (though Ghidorah loves EVERYONE)!

-----------------------------------------------------

HOLY SHIT THIS TOOK FOREVER MY GOD!!!!!!

I am soso sorry that this took SO LONG for me to post this, it took a lotta time to come up with all this info for you, let alone type it all out lol!

I hope that the wait was well worth it and that you let me in on your feedback on this my dear lovely friend!

I hope that you enjoy reading all this and have a fantastic evening!!

[lavampira]

14 and 17 for the fic asks? :D

fic writer ask meme

ty beloved!!

14. answered here!

17. what’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

I fell down a rabbithole with the spiritualism and occult revival in the 1910s-1920s while researching some spookier historical stuff for my call of cthulhu ocs mystery fic! also in part from gigi introducing me to hilma af klint’s work and the spiritualist influences of her art, too. but I learned a lot about how wwi affected the movement, grief and ptsd leading people to seeking answers and comfort elsewhere, which is also the premise of my oc’s backstory as well, and some specifics of seances (and how houdini was involved by trying to expose the falsities and prove mediums’ exploitation of others’ grief).

[lazypapers]

This is the moment when Eli and Vern first met. 

His name is Eli and he is a medium that has a demon he mingles with, named Tali. He can see and speak with the dead and spiritual beings and consumes souls in order to sate his Demon’s hunger. And in return she gives him power. He currently resides in a small town and has befriended a hunter named Vern, who is of werewolf descent (gunpowder’s OC). His story is so excellent and I would love to share it with you, with their permission first though. We have been brainstorming stories, but that will be posted for the future later.  Here are some concepts and drawings I’ve done of my OC. 

Art by gunpowder

[morvantmortuary]

happy birthday to our one and only spirit medium/post mortem photographer/stress bread-maker/astral-projecting artist/possible next head necromancer/multilingual spooky goofball space cadet 💜🖤💜

it’s Hector’s special day!! and that also means it’s the anniversary of this blog itself ✨ thank you again to everyone who’s still kind enough to be reading along - I know I can be slow to respond to things lately, but it does mean the world to know that people are still here with us 🖤👻

I’m looking forward to sharing more fun things with y’all now that Spooky Season is in hyperdrive watch this space 👁️

but first, I just wanted to celebrate my third scrimblo who’s very near and dear to me 🥰

[knightofhylia]

Kaleikvi: The Wheel Turns

This kvi I am honouring Kaleitti (nickname Kitti). I started honouring her twin sister in May under the tag 'dsukvi'.

History and Name: She is one of the first spirits that came to me, in the form of a Full Metal Alchemist OC. I was inspired by Alphonse being a soul bound to armor and made her like that as well (she was later confirmed to be a robot). While I was trying to figure out a name, I wanted her nickname to be Kitti but I didn't want her name to be Kathleen (which I think may have been when I first called her?). I messed around with letters and landed on 'Katleitti', which I liked, but when you said it out loud it just sounded like 'cat lady' which I thought was a little cheesy, so I switched it to Kaleitti (Kah-LAY-it-tee) and it's stuck. Years later, when doing some trancework, I learned that 'kale' meant 'river' (she moved her arms like water when she said kale) and 'itti' was an onomatopoeia for 'twinkle twinkle' so her name meant "River of Twinkling Stars" or to us "Milky Way". Role:

A long time ago when I was working with my deities I asked them all what their 'role' was by pulling 3 Tarot cards (This is when my Zelda deck was all I had). Hers as follows:

Eight of Cups Spirit quest, letting go, travel, crave for spiritual deepening The Empress Creativity, nurturing, connect with nature and spirituality The Star Optimism, Peace, Astrology, trust in the universe, healing, renewal

I don't know if her association with the Star card was as strong before but it was cemented after this.

Lore and Description:

She is the daughter of my Hemy, a human incarnation of the Universe. Her twin sister is Dsukinz (Kinnie), who is the deity of Life. Her older brother is Junalahqi (Jun), who is the deity of Death. Kaleitti is the deity of Spacetime. She has infinite incarnations who are named after different time phenomena (Deva Vu, Amnesia, Time Slip, etc). It is their job to maintain the timelines and universes. Typically she has dark blue hair, however, her first incarnation (Big Sis), has auburn hair like her mother and brother. She is the proof that machines have souls.

Appearance:

Typically she has dark skin and dark blue hair with blue eyes like her father. She has a mole under her eye. She has cat ears She is tall and athletically built. She has three tails, one short, one medium, and one long, symbolizing seconds, minutes, and hours. She has an extra thumb on each hand (symbolizing 24 hours in a day). Her face markings symbolize the face of a clock. Her magic colour is Yellow, symbolizing sands of time. Her patron goddess is Euphrym.

UPG story:

Once, I was doing a reading with a related spirit, her brother in law Adamard (adamkvi). The reading felt off, his usual whismy tone was very clear. I noticed all my cards were 10s, which is Kaleitti's number. Curious, I looked up what 101010 (the 3 ten cards I had) meant in binary and it came up as the asterisk, or star *, which is her tarot card! I knew it was her from that and was surprised I figured it out lol

Correspondences:

Animals - cats, goats Astrology - Capricorn, the Moon, the Sun, planets in general Beverage - Root beer Color - yellow, royal blue, silver, gold Crystals - tektite, hematite, lodestone, lepidolite, bismuth, aura quartz Emotions - Joy, Optimism

Epithets: Time Keeper, Silver/Mirror-eyed Flower - Clock Vine Fruit - Starfruit Herbs - Catnip Keywords - Time, Space, Cycles, Network, Internet Kvi - August, symbolizing the unity of the 8 Sisters and 8 is a vertical infinity symbol Meme - Nyan Cat Metal - Silver, Magnesium, Platinum Musical Expression - Pop, lofi, plunderphonics, disco, techno

Number - 10 (the only numbers in binary) Playlist - very WIP Mythical Animal - Sphinx, but instead of a lion it is a Lynx Physical Expression - manipulating playlists, repeating numbers, messages through songs Sense - chronoception Symbol -

[semi-imaginary-place]

I was thinking on my more recent conversations on the similarities between padjal and viera, and I made another ffxiv oc.

Yohannjs Djt-setlas was was one of the west-most Viera villages just before where the Golmore Jungle began thinning out into savannah and eventually desert. From a young age they heard the voice of the Wood particularly strongly and chose to become a Woodwarder to be better attuned to the Green Word then taking on his adult male name, Yohannjs. In my headcanon choosing to be a Woodwarder is not exile so much as lifelong spiritual pilgrimage, it is a devotional lifestyle of religious ascetic eremiticism akin to the earliest Christian monks.

The location of his territory historically put his village into fierce conflict with Dalmasca and Yohannjs himself killed many Dalmascan expansionists though it has been many years since Dalmasca has had such an imperially minded king. The real trouble started with the Garleans. When their invasion came to Dalmasca the war dragged on, became increasingly desperate, and the land suffered from both the invaders and defenders. The Garleans used weaponry that tore apart not only bodies and the land itself but the very aether that sustained it and as the Garleans gained ground the Dalmascans with their own aether reserves run dry turned to the earth to sustain their spells, thus was the land bled and even the secluded Viera found their way of living endangered. Many rallied to fight Dalmascan and Garlean alike and bled out as the land did. To make things worse the area was used as a testing zone to for a special research project to recreate Azys Lla and so a miniature Burn was created. Some of the Viera eventually fled east to their sister villages where the forests were still green and the Wood still whispered, others left entirely seeking answers to the senseless violence of man, and still others like Yohannjs dug in their heels as they too withered away and their forests turned to ash and dust, indeed Yohannjs with his natural blessing of aether was the last. To this day he mourns that he did not die with them. For many a day he simply lay there and yet there he did not remain, if asked he would not have an answer either, but wandering lost he eventually over several years came upon the shores of Eorzea.

I haven't decided if Yohannjs is a Warrior of Light, he might be. I'm playing with the idea that his Echo gives him visions and that's what led him to Eorzea and the Blessing of Light was why he survived. I think he would have very complicated feelings about the Shroud as a place that so closely reminds him of the home he lost. This is especially true once he joins the conjurers guild, he's found to be a Hearer, and the A-Towa Cant's soul stone chooses him as a white mage. Because he knows what it is to guard and listen to a forest that is holy as well as or perhaps better than any padjal, and he lost that, and here is a replacement but it will never be the same for he has left the Wood and the Green Word no longer rings in his ears.

Yohannjs is probably pretty old too although of course it would be impolite to ask, like most viera he detests being judged by other races' sense of time, but he's likely in the 150-300 range. I think he and E-sumi would get along, I'd really love to hear them talk.

I don't know if he'd take a city name, he probably wouldn't.

not sure what he'd look like. I think medium to medium-dark skin. I like dark hair but white also looks good. Played around with eye color and I like teal best.

[chocobothis]

Solus and Jazari for the OC questions!

Solus Ve'tra/ Solus Vizsla

What is the character’s go-to drink order?

Solus will drink anything but she’s got a fondness for the classic cocktails, especially if they’re made with tihaar. One of her favorite real world drinks would be a Negroni.

What is their grooming routine?

It depends where she’s at and how much time she has. Things are as simplistic as “vaguely wiped mud off face before collapsing in full kit” to really detailed “self-spa days”. The medium she enjoys is being able to take her time to enjoy the little things in taking care of her hair or skin and a real water shower or bath. Sunscreen is a constant on her face, even with her armor, because her helmet comes off some days. If she’s more uncovered, sunscreen goes there too because she burns super, super easily.

What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? 

When she actually has the time and space she enjoys buying well-made pieces of clothing, shoes, and jewelry. It’s a very quality over quantity thing because she loves artisans who make things by hand or the old ways.. There’s also trips to museums, especially art and history, because those are things she’s been fascinated with since childhood. She also makes art so she enjoys having Nice Supplies for them especially the paper or canvases.

Do they have any scars or tattoos? 

She’s got so many scars from over the years it's hard to name each and every one. There’s a huge blaster burn across her collarbone and shoulder from fighting with Pre on Concordia. It’s not from him but was definitely to save him. She’s also got lightsaber burns from learning to use them at various ages and skills. Also being on the opposing side of them.

What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? 

Easily from a death or a birth. Anything to do with her family evokes such strong emotional responses for her. Yes, she lives by “Helmet on, heart off” but at the end of the day she loves so deeply.

Are they an oldest, middle, youngest or only child? 

Technically, she’s an only child because her mother had a single child. However, she was attached to Ursa’s hip as a child so she is very much the “youngest”. When she was in the Order she was in flux in her Katarn Clan from middle to oldest. Her first Jedi Master, Leska, had a very sisterly relationship with her. Had she grown up with her family, due to her mother’s immaturity and disinterest, she would’ve been more like a youngest child being raised along side her mother.

Describe the shoes they’re wearing. 

It’s always boots by this point in her life. As a child she was virtually always in a kit to help protect her, so sturdy boots. In the Order, she wore ones with about two inches of wedged heel to make herself appear taller than she was. When she’s a Mandalorian again she’s back to flatter boots with a rating to handle space. Her shin and boot armor in the Order was non-existent or plastoid. But as a Mandalorian it’s beskar. Her Clan is super old, well-established, and her armor’s always been the best quality.

Describe the place where they sleep. 

She can sleep anywhere at any time because that’s the life of a soldier. The actual room she has varies from captain’s quarters on ships to tents. When she has a non-moving room she wants a big bed with soft things and places for armor and weapons to be stored. The bed size accounts for her, her partner(s), a child/children, and a potential strill or two. She hates sleeping alone. It’s so unnatural.

What is their favorite holiday? 

Anything that celebrates the Ancestors, Ka’ra, etc. It doesn’t matter if it’s a huge thing or small, she loves the spirituality of it all. Her faith has always been something important to her so she wants to celebrate her history and people. Her least favorite holiday is anything associated with the Empire.

What objects do they always carry around with them? 

Datapad(s), her lightsabers, various knives, blasters, grenades, at least a small first aid kit, ration bars, water purifying tablets, and a multi-tool. She’s an advisor to various Manda’lor, tactician, commander, etc. Really no matter where she’s been her role always required being in communication with various others and prepared for anything. Her waist pouches and pockets are just Batman’s Belt meets Mom Purse.

Jazari Naaji/Jazari Skirata

What is the character’s go-to drink order? 

Something fruity or tea based and strong. Her life is chaotic so when she takes the time to drink she wants it to taste good and kicks like a hyperdrive. For a real world order, she’d go for a Long Island Iced Tea with actual tea or juice subbed in for the cola. Or, an Adios Motherfucker because it’s a fun color and swings.

What is their grooming routine? 

Her hair is really, really curly so since growing it out from the Padawan Cut she’s put more effort into at least hydrating it.. Skincare also improved because before it soap and go. Really, Mereel (her riduur) is the one who got her to actually pamper herself beyond Quick Shower and collapsing. Keeping up with Quinlan Vos when she was his padawan took everything, all the time. Arligan Zey was much slower but The Clone Wars kicked off turning her into an even bigger workaholic. So much of her effort went toward slicing, shadowy work, etc. that very little went toward herself.

What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? 

Computer parts, cybernetic upgrades, or gifts for her friends and family. She is a fanatic about tech so she wants to stay ahead of the curve. Those things get expensive fast. When she got her cybernetic arm taking care of it also became important. Then she just wants to spoil the people she knows because she loves them.

Do they have any scars or tattoos? 

Her life has been super active so there’s a ton of scars from various origins. Most noticeable are the ones on her fingers and hands from working on tech or fighting. The scar where her cybernetic arm is attached to her body is still pretty gnarly. (She lost the flesh and blood arm to a wound that went septic during Order 66.) Despite being half-Mirialian she actually doesn’t have any facial tattoos because she never felt close to that part of her identity.

What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? 

Kal’buir came in with a half-dead kid (@thebisexualmandalorian’s Werda) for them to try and successfully save. Beyond the actual injuries it was the emotional gut punch of the kid’s age. He was maybe thirteen and her son, Grim, was about nine at the time. While her daughter, Ca’tra, wasn’t even two.  It was so easy to see that as her babies laying there and fighting for their lives that it got her. So did the absolute maelstrom of everyone’s emotions in the Force colliding into her, Grim, and Ca’tra. 

Are they an oldest, middle, youngest or only child? 

Technically, she’s an only child by birth but she grew up in the Order so there was her initiate clan. Solus, Lumi, and Alijah were by her side and she’s the Mom Friend, so there’s some Eldest Vibes. But, with her lineage siblings (Aayla and Barden) she’s an absolute brat. She's married with children and will still end up rolling around in the dirt fighting with Barden over something or other. Also, she’s literally married into Clan Skirata so her number of brother-in-laws alone is Vast.

Describe the shoes they’re wearing. 

She’s a boots girl through and through. They’re the most practical type of footwear as a Jedi and Mandalorian. But, she also just loves the Aesthetic of them. Combat Boots and Sundresses is one of her favorite looks. Real World Jazari would be super into Doc Martens of various patterns including floral and glitter.

Describe the place where they sleep. 

Between being a soldier and motherhood she could probably sleep next to a roaring engine if need be. But, her actual room is shared with Mereel. He’s got a taste for the finer things and aesthetics so she let him do the bulk of the decorating with her touches. They have Space Succulents (an in-joke between them and her being “A bastard space succulent”), a small desk to collect her tech stuff and to allow her space to work, and then there’s clear signs they’re Mandalorians and have kids. Toys, a small basket specifically for the straggler socks, a different basket for the collection of clothes that aren’t theirs but ended up there due to a nibling, their own children borrowing something, etc. It’s so very lived in and she adores it.

What is their favorite holiday?

Anyone’s adoption day celebration for when they became part of Clan Skirata. It’s so beautiful to have gone from feeling alone (as an orphaned child) to having this many siblings of various relations and just a huge family. Grim’s her adopted kid so she also loves getting to normalize for him that families don’t all look the same–even if they’re a very clone heavy family. He’s a zabrak, she’s a Sephi-Mirialian, his dad is a Human Clone, and his little sister is a mix of them. Do not bring up any Empire holiday.

What objects do they always carry around with them? 

Datapad(s), whatever is part of her kit for the day (she rotates frequently between what goes with her armor depending on the task), small first aid kit, multitools, and a few types of fidget toys. They amuse kids, work out her frustrated energy, and help occupy nervous beings.

Get to know your characters

[xiala-bexchan]

My OC Tsuki Kuraki and Toji Fushiguro from Jujutsu Kaisen.

Tsuki Kuraki is an very old OC of mine and the mother of my OC Kazumi Kuraki. Tsuki is a spiritual medium, who died of cancer in her real story.

In my Jujutsu Kaisen AU Tsuki is the only descendant of the Kuraki clan.

Once upon a time, the Kuraki clan was as powerful as the Ze'nin clan, but it was always made up of female mages. So the women were always married to men of high-ranking clans, so that their bloodline would always be preserved.

Tsuki's mother, headstrong, strict, ice-cold, one of the last survivors and head of the Kuraki clan, teaches Tsuki jujutsu techniques from an early age and trains her to be a very strong fighter, but Tsuki is not allowed to decide anything for herself and is kept away from society by her mother like a bird in a cage. So her mother signs a contract with the Ze'nin clan at an early age that Tsuki will be promised to the next head of the Ze'nin's at the age of 14, so that the Kuraki's do not die out and Tsuki above all bears many children, which frightens her very much, because since the beginning of time the Kuraki's have drawn their strength from sexual activities, which make them stronger and strengthen their power to curse. Thus, during her training, Tsuki is forced to orgasm during rituals via magic and the supply of special potions while she is tied on her knees and has to surrender to her fate. Toji meets her for the first time when Tsuki visits the Ze'nin clan and immediately notices that he is different from the others. She begins to doubt her life and her destiny, and after her mother's talks with the Ze'nin clan, she turns against her mother, who has been used to obedience from Tsuki since childhood. Tsuki's mother is so disappointed that she dies of heart failure shortly afterwards and Tsuki tries to take her life into her own hands from then on. She renounces her own clan and tries to establish herself as a normal person in Tokyo at the age of 17. Although she is actually able to suppress her gigantic curse powers, she is found out early on by Toji, who recognises her by her white skin and blue-brown eyes alone, but instead of killing her because he has a grudge against sorcerers with curse powers, he gets to know Tsuki better and notices that the two of them are not so dissimilar and the fact that they have both renounced their clan. Over time, the two become closer and Tsuki is so attracted to Toji that she can no longer suppress the rising desire that fuels her powers. So the two begin a very passionate relationship that gives rise to my OC Kazumi Kuraki and thus Megumi's older half-sister.

Tsuki's striking features are the blue-brown eyes, the snow-white skin and the red hanfu, on which several cranes are depicted. Because of her extremely white skin colour, she becomes known throughout history as "the white crane" among the sorcerers. Tsuki unfortunately dies in battle against the Ze'nin's when they finally find her and see through her treachery. Shortly before her death, she asks Toji to take care of Kazumi and make her strong so that she can prove herself in life.

Tsuki is very introverted at first and keeps quiet until she finds her own way. When she is with Toji, she laughs very much and even starts playing electronic guitar, which is the trigger for her daughter Kazumi, as she plays guitar later on when she is with the jujutsu academy and get's teached by Satoru Gojo in jujutsu techniques.

The picture below should show my inspiration for Tsuki's design and how she would look like in the red hanfu with the cranes on it.

[reilliane]

so i was scrolling away on instagram when I came across a genshin oc that is a spiritual medium. Basically they allow deceased spirits to inhabit their body and speak to their loved one for a period of time. Following the genshin oc picture was a supposably tomo talking to kazuha through the spiritual medium. So the I thought, what if we do this with vigil-mc?

So here we are.

that's sweet- and angsty-

if kazuha ever comes across a medium that basically goes, "i hear your wounded soul crying-" he'll be astounded. then an offer to talk to his sibLING??

oh dear, oh dear don't get his hopes up, he's still fragile :(

but then it's actually true and all of a sudden-

"my dear little brother,"

NOOO HE'S GOING TO TEAR UP. yes, it would be awkward given that he's looking into someone that's not his sister at all, but he would've thrown logic away in his hysteria.

he doesn't know how long it'll last so he'll be quick in his words and make sure that he's able to deliver his sorries 〒▽〒

[muutos]

➹ + Angela Bassett

☽𖤐☾ @iomadachd (𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 ➹ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐜 / 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 !!!)

(okay funny story to get started but i've actually had an oc with angela bassett as the fc before! she was ... a kind of vampire, or a flesh eating immortal? however i was thinking about reworking her for this blog as a dragon oc, because i love dragons :3 have her as able to shift between forms or something? she was really rad tho, so i'll prolly just muse about that oc i wanna do)

NAME: OMA THE DRAGON, brunhilde osei. her children / grandchildren call her oma. SPECIES & TITLES: DRAGON: MOTHER OF DRAGONS, QUEEN OF DRAGONS, QUEEN DRAGON/QUEEN BEE. AGE: UNKNOWN RESIDENCE (FORMER / CURRENT): germany, america

based on german folk, her kind settled there in the early days before civilization, having scoped the earth with intentions of finding the perfect climate for burrowing, & establishing their system of underground lairs & caves. she runs the last remaining tribe of dragons in society, and it has been such a way for hundreds of years. she is the dragon's queen, like a queen bee is to their hive. everything is done in service to the queen so that she can help them live in harmony and produce the things in which they need to live. she is the provider of nutrition to the babies, the watches over and incubates all eggs for the dragon colony. she also possesses magic which allows her to change her form, though it only extends to human likeness. humans are not needed for survival, however dragons do love their riches and hoards of treasures, which she's amassed by becoming a psychic/medium at a parlor where she steals watches or bracelets during readings/seances -- or doing house-calls to act as a spiritual medium or cleanser, where she steals valuables to hoard away. she does possess these powers however as well, & people whom have heard of the dragon folklore (that is less false than it is true), they leave nick knacks and tributes to her lair.