#the fact that they are some of my first ocs is still wild to me because their designs still loo

[rivilu]

Ooo...

[incorrectinfinity]

Another ancient swap redesign

Fun fact! Mistletoe was the first ancient swap I designed!

[cryptidghostgirl]

Hello hi- back to my shenanigans again (the one with the fake dating + lobby portal + frozen half the pentagram surely not an OC ahahah anonymous asker) - anyway- heres some MORE angst.

Reader's past lover- died waaay before reader back in their teens because readers mother found out about their not so heterosexual relationship and decided to shoot them both but only killed one- reader escaping and killing her mom in return (let’s name her Charlotte- with mane wolf features- so wolf+fox+deer features a combination! ) and barely moved on after meeting Alastor like years later, yet still haunted by Charlottes dead eyes reader saw when she woke up from some sleepy poison. Now Charlotte is in heaven and reader in hell alongside their radio-lover lover!

Yet somehow- maybe though a very uncanonical accurate meeting where angels go down to see the new hotel after hearing sinners can get redeemed Charlotte (not to be confused with Charlie) is one of said angels and suddenly all those waves of emotions come rushing back and reader can do nothing but stare.

but oh wait! Angels/Winner dont remember their past life so reader goes to her- and shes just “Oh hello! Whats your name? :3” (shes an angel and loves the stars and plants and everything nice can do no wrong) “I-… I guess you dont know me in this lifetime” (AND DOESNT TELL HER THEYVE MET BEFORE because what good would that bring?)

But alastor is also there lurking in the back. watching them- he knew someone was in readers life before him but reader never said more than that. Will readers feelings for Charlotte come back? Will reader stay to the infatuation of murderous acts that Alastor bought them? Will reader choose the pure love that might not spring again?

The infamous blizzard demon overlord! that never dropped their mask around others that always seemed to have the upper hand in any situation, the cold- charismatic- brutal and ruthless overlord- suddenly speechless at the reappearance of someone they used to know. How will everyone react?! “Sweet as a pea, but sharp as a knife- now shocked like the stars have fallen”

GAAAH MY BRAIN IS TOO BIG ANF FULL OF ANGST!!!!! Heres some kisses too: maybe next fic its me x you pookie 😘😘🥰🥰😘😘😘😘

A/N What a wild way to close off a request, I honestly got so much respect for that. I don't do OCs but for the sign off comment, I'll make an exception. Also I am assuming you want this as a part two to Frostbite because she's still a blizzard demon?? Apologies in advance if I got that wrong. Also,, not you quoting something else I've written in your request. That's crazy, thank you so much for the love.

Day Lilies (Alastor x Blizzard demon!Reader x Angel!OC)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Part One: Frostbite (Alastor x Reader)

Warnings: Homophobia (from other people and internalized) and murder. Smoking/cigarettes and angst. Always angst. I think that is it, please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 2,969

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

The best thing about the Hazbin Hotel, according to some, was the fact that not one but two overlords who had found a home there. The Radio Demon and the Frost. Feared, revered, respected, and making an appearance for the first time in seven long years.

Without Alastor and Y/n's help, Charlie would not have been able to achieve all she had and she was eternally grateful to the pair, even if they were a tad confrontational and violent at times. Deeply in love, indebted to one another in a billion and five different ways, Alastor and Y/n had worked hard for their life in the underworld. As the angel stepped gently out of the portal, following her superior, Y/n felt the pressure of that life as it began to crash down around her.

When Charlie had struck the deal with Heaven to have an angel come down to the hotel to track its progress and assess if any of its inhabitants were worthy of redemption, Y/n had thought nothing of it. Sure, it was a bit irritating but if anything, the deal seemed ripe for entertainment and thats really all she and Alastor were after at the end of the day. She had figured the angel would be some low ranking nobody. She had thought it would be amusing, that they would torture the poor creature, that things would stay roughly the same. Never in her wildest dreams had the notion ever crossed Y/n's mind that the angel might be Charlotte.

Of course, Y/n had known Charlotte must be in Heaven. The girl had always been so kind, so good to her very core. It had just all seemed so far away and now, somehow, there she was, peeking timidly out from behind the seraphim's back.

Charlotte looked different, having taken on some animalistic, wolfish features since her death. Sharp ears sprouted from the untamed mess of her hair, fangs peeked their way out from the corners of her lips but Y/n was sure. It was Charlotte. It was all in the eyes.

"Welcome, Sera." Charlie politely began, taking a step forward.

Normally, such a show of self restraint from the young demon princess would have caused curiosity to spark a fire in Y/n's chest. Now, she just stood beside Angel as Charlie had requested, eyes wide and mind reeling.

"Is this who we will be working with?"

Sera looked at the shy wolf of a girl behind her and nodded her head, gesturing for the girl to step forward.

"Yes." she replied, her voice cold and haughty, "This is Charlotte, she has been with us for a while and we trust her judgment on matters such as this."

"Oh how funny!" Charlie brightly exclaimed, "My full name is Charlotte too but, I go by Charlie. Do you have a nickname you'd prefer?"

"Just Charlotte is fine." the angel softly replied and Y/n's breath caught in her throat.

The girls voice was honeysuckle, it was sticky sweet teen love.

"Why her?" Husk asked and Charlie shot him a glare, "She just seems a little..."

Sera laughed lightly, a caring smile sneaking on to her face.

"She's a little shy, but she is smart. Even when she was alive, she had an ability to read people, to see right through to the essence of their beings."

Charlotte blushed slightly at the compliment, turning away.

The southern sun beat down over head, long grass whipping at their legs as Charlotte, running, dragged Y/n to the center of the field.

"Lottie!" Y/n exclaimed, half laughing, "Where on earth are you taking me?"

Charlotte glanced back at her companion, a mischievous smirk painting her lips that sent bolts of red hot fire through to Y/n's fingertips.

"You'll see."

After a few more paces, they came to a panting halt. Charlotte turned to Y/n, placing a hand gently over the other girl's eyes. With a guiding hand, she lead the blinded girl to a spot a little ways off where she had snuck off to earlier and set up a picnic. There was fresh fruit, Georgia peaches from her family's own orchard, and home made lemonade. Slowly, Charlotte gifted Y/n with sight.

Y/n's mouth fell slightly open as she surveyed the scene before her. Sixteen and in love, she turned to Charlotte, taking both the girl's hands in her own.

"When... how..."

"I know things have been rough at home lately. I wanted to do something to make you smile."

"How did you know? I never..." Y/n cleared her throat, "I never said anything... I nev-"

"You didn't have to. I know you, love. You never have to say a word."

Alastor watched his lover silently from the other side of the group. Charlie had insisted they flank the guests, dragging Y/n away from his side just as the portal had opened. She didn't show it, not obviously, but he knew something was wrong. From the second the portal had opened and the angels had stepped through, she had gone tense, her eyes fixed on the one called Charlotte, the tips of her frostbite blackened fingers tapped against one another in wild thought.

"Well," Sera sighed, looking around at the ragtag group of sinners and demons, "I had best be on my way. I will be back in a few days to pick Charlotte up, please be kind to her over the course of her stay."

With those parting words and a reassuring pat on the angel's shoulder, Sera stepped back through the portal which closed behind her.

"Well," Charlie began brightly, clapping her hands together, "let's do introductions! I am Charlie Morningstar and I run the Hazbin Hotel with my girlfriend, Vaggie."

Vaggie sent Charlotte a wave which she timidly returned. With a deep breath, Charlotte stepped towards the line of sinners before her.

"Alastor." Alastor hummed, grabbing Charlottes hand and shaking it harshly, "A pleasure to be meeting you my dear, quite the pleasure."

It struck Charlie as a bit odd he said and did nothing else but, she made no mention of it. In her mind, Alastor was simply on his best behavior as requested. In reality, he was far too focused on the way a slight flurry of snow had begun to settle on Y/n's sharp shoulders.

"Nice to meet you too." Charlotte replied, extracting her hand from his grip and moving down the line.

Y/n's heart pounded wildly against her chest as Charlotte grew closer. Her tail twitched behind her, flicking back and forth gently, and her breaths grew slightly heavy. Although he noticed the odd behavior, it was impossible not to from his place beside her, Angel said nothing. At long last, Charlotte came to a stop before her.

"Disgusting!" Y/n's mother's voice rang out through the yard, "You are both complete and utter disgraces!"

They hadn't meant to be found out. As far as Y/n's mother had known, Y/n and Charlotte were best friends. Charlotte had come over to help Y/n with her chores, they had been doing laundry out in the yard when Charlotte had playfully flicked water towards her beloved. One thing had lead to another and before long, they had been wrapped up in one another, planting a singular, soft kiss on each other's lips. Y/n felt Charlotte's hand tighten around her own, she took a step forward.

"Don't you dare speak to her that way!" Y/n yelled back, anger burning brightly in her eyes and adrenaline shaking her limbs with wild courage, "Don't you dare!"

Her mother scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"She is a bad influence on you! The devil sent to curse me!"

Y/n's mother stepped forward, grabbing Y/n and wrenching her from Charlotte's grip. Charlotte tugged at Y/n's mother's dress as she dragged her girlfriend harshly into the small house.

"Let her go!" Charlotte cried, "Stop it! We weren't doing anything wrong!"

With a harsh slap to her face, Charlotte was sent to the ground. Her mother threw Y/n through the door, the unfinished wood of the floor sending splinters deep into Y/n's knees as she struggled to get to her feet. Her head had hit the corner of the table in her fall, the world was spinning. Y/n's mother grabbed the shot gun from where it lay beside the door. Just as Y/n managed to stumble to her feet, holding her swaying body up with a hand on the table she had hit, her mother stepped outside and slammed the door behind her, locking it.

Y/n rushed over, trying desperately to wrench it open to no avail. The anger had turned to panic as she heard her mother cock the gun.

"What are you doing!" she heard Charlotte yell and Y/n rushed to the window.

From her vantage point, Y/n watched her mother train the gun on Charlotte who had her hands raised and was stumbling backwards.

"Run!" she yelled, banging her fists on the glass, "Lottie, run!"

"Please." Charlotte was pleading, tears wetting her cheeks, "I promise I wont ever come here again, I wont ever come near her again. Please!"

"Lottie!" Y/n yelled again.

With no regard for her own safety, Y/n punched the glass of the window. The pane shattered around her hand, puncturing her soft skin. Blood, hot and wet, ran down her arm as she pulled her hand back to her side.

"Yeah, you sure as hell wont!" Y/n's mother yelled, her voice thick and low with rage, "You'll be dead!"

Y/n flung her leg over the window sill, shards of glass digging into her as she pulled herself through the hole she had created.

"Lottie!" she yelled again, "Run!"

Her screams were drowned out by the sound of a gunshot. Charlotte held her hands to her stomach, blood pouring from between her fingers. Their eyes met.

"Lottie!"

"And you are?" Charlotte asked expectently.

Y/n shook her head slightly, pulling herself from the depths of her memories. Everyone was staring at her, she had no idea how long the angel had been standing before her. She cleared her throat.

Alastor didn't know what was going on but, whatever it was, he knew he didn't like it. Using his shadows, he appeared behind Y/n and placed a protective hand on the top of her head between her horns. Her hair was damp from freshly fallen snow and Charlotte gasped slightly in surprise at his appearance.

"My dear," he grinned, leaning down to Y/n's ear, "you're snowing."

"I..."

Y/n looked up, her cheeks flushing pink and the heart on the tip of her tail puffing up as she realized what he said.

"O-oh." she stuttered, brushing his hand from her head and the snow from her shoulders as she regained control of her powers again, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

The other members of the hotel watched in a mixture of shock and confusion. They had always known Y/n to be cold, to be harsh. They had always seen her devotion to the man behind her as infallible. No one had any idea what was going on but, the presence of the angel stopped them all in their tracks.

"It's quite all right, what's your name?" Charlotte asked again, her voice honey sweet.

Y/n took a deep breath, morphing her features into the closest thing to a kind smile she could muster.

"Y/n." she firmly replied, "I'm Y/n."

Her eyes scanned Charlotte's face intently as their hands made contact. She waited for the shock of recognition, for the tears her Lottie had always been so prone to. There was nothing.

"That's a very pretty name." Charlotte replied, "It sounds like it is from the same era as mine."

That raised some small hope in Y/n's chest. She took a step forward, bringing herself closer to the angel.

"Which is?"

"Oh, I don't know." Charlotte replied, her cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment, "Angels don't get to remember their lives on earth unless they are pretty high in the ranks. I've been told I was from Georgia though, that I died in the early 1900s."

Y/n froze, her breath trapped in her chest, a knife buried deep within her heart.

"Oh." she mumbled out in a broken whisper, "I guess you... you don't know me in this lifetime."

"What was that?" Charlotte asked, leaning in a bit.

Y/n shook her head, letting go of Charlotte's hand.

"Nothing. I... I need some fresh air, I think. If you would all excuse me."

It didn't take Alastor long to find Y/n once Charlie had let him return to his duties in favor of showing Charlotte around the hotel. She stood out in back of the hotel, her back pressed firmly against the wall and a cigarette crushed between her fingers. Shakily, she took a drag.

"What was that about?" Alastor asked, leaning up against the wall beside her and folding his arms across his chest.

"What was what about." Y/n cooly replied.

"Y/n, don't play dumb."

"I knew her back when we were alive, thats all."

"Is that all?" Alastor asked after a moment, "You seemed..."

He trailed off. Alastor was angry. He had always been the jealous type, protective to a fault. He could see how shaken up Y/n was however and so, running a finger over the ring he wore, Alastor took a deep breath.

"That angel, Charlotte..." her name lingered poisonously on his tongue, "it seemed there was something a lot more than just you knowing her."

"I picked these for you." Y/n bashfully stated, shoving a bouquet tied with a rough bit of twine towards the pretty girl beside her, "Here."

Tentatively, Charlotte took the bouquet from Y/n's hand. She held it gently, watching the way the breeze played with the petals.

"Georgia asters?" Charlotte hummed thoughtfully, "And yarrow?"

"My momma didn't used to be poor. She grew up in a rich family, gave it up when she married my dad. Her momma taught her floriography." Y/n's words came out in a big rush, they chased after one another in a breathless flurry of nerves, "It was big in the victorian era for fancy people, all about talking through flowers. She taught me asters symbolized wisdom, faith, and valor and that yarrow was for healing and... and love... besides, I know you like them. You're always staring at them when were out."

Charlotte looked over at Y/n who's cheeks were bright red. She smiled, her eyes shining.

"I love you too." she said, nudging Y/n gently with her elbow.

"Yeah, but..." Y/n sighed, running a hand through her messy hair, "I... god, Lottie! I don't just love you like a sister. Its... I understand if you don't wanna talk to me anymore I just couldn't... I couldn't keep it in anymore."

Y/n looked away, tears pressing hotly at the backs of her eyes. Charlotte's eyes went wide.

"I understand... I won't be mad... I just... I'll leave."

Charlotte's hand shot out, grabbing Y/n's wrist as she pushed herself from the fence they were leaning against. Slowly, Y/n turned to face her. Charlotte was blushing now too and looked away, still holding Y/n tightly.

"I don't..." she took a deep breath, "I don't love you like a sister either."

"It's wrong... it's so wrong... what would my mother say... what would your mother say, I-"

Charlotte cut Y/n off, standing on her toes to press a soft kiss to the slightly taller girl's lips. It was clumsy and foreign. Y/n trembled, her eyes fluttered shut.

"I don't care." Charlotte said, "I don't care."

"Yeah." Y/n sighed, taking a final drag from her cigarette before stamping it out beneath her heel, "Yeah."

"Do I have anything to worry about?" Alastor asked and Y/n's eyes met his.

He had known her long enough, he could see the conflict.

"She was my first love, Al." Y/n admitted, "We were girls together."

"You're my wife."

"It's different."

"Do I have anything to worry about?" Alastor asked again and Y/n looked back out at the sky.

"She doesn't remember me."

"But you remember her."

"But I remember her." Y/n confirmed, her voice cracking, "I couldn't forget if I tried. She haunts me, Al. She has always haunted me, since long before I even met you. Lottie died in my arms, Al. My mother killed her, shot her right in the stomach. I...."

Y/n trailed off into silence. It was more about her life before she had met him than she had ever revealed before. Alastor took a deep breath, conflicting emotions battling behind his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?"

He was trying to keep his cool, to save face. He was failing, anger and a secret fear ate away at the edges of his words.

"Day lilies."

"Day lilies?" Alastor repeated and Y/n nodded, meeting his eyes once again.

"A floriography thing again?"

Alastor knew of Y/n's interest in the symbolic properties of plants. It was one of the only things she ever spoke about concerning her mother and her shadowed past before that night in Mimzy's bar.

"Yes."

"What do they mean?" Alastor sighed, resigning himself to his fate because god, if Alastor knew anything he knew his fate was Y/n. She held his heart in the palms of her hands.

"Love for lovers. Love for mothers..."

"And?"

His heart pounded against his chest.

"And loss of memory."

----

TAGS:

the ones in red are ones I am not sure worked/having trouble linking.

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170@wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007

[hugsandchaos]

I don’t know the current status of Linked Universe, so if I need to delete this please tell me, but after seeing a drawing of Wild and Danny doing the whole “I think we need to kill this guy” thing, my mind went blank! But in a “How did I not think of this?” way!

Because imagine them finding him in the Lost Woods or something and thinking he died there! Or Danny feeling like he can breathe around these people because they fight several different kinds of monsters practically daily, so how weird can it be if their newest member is half ghost?! And Danny 100% takes a picture at some point! I know this might not be half as big as DC x DP, but still! I feel like this needs to be explored a bit!

And also, he’s definitely chill with Wolfie because for the Linked Universe fans who don’t know, Danny has befriended a ghost puppy (Cujo) who is capable of turning into a giant dog probably the size of a two or three story house, a large anthropomorphic ghost wolf who speaks Esperanto (named Wulf) big enough to hold Danny in one hand, and a ghost yeti also large enough to hold him in one hand (Frostbite), along with pretty much the entire village of ghost yetis. I think it’d be crazy if he was actually scared of Wolfie, especially if he sees him acting all friendly with the others first. If fact, he probably thinks he’s a husky or Alaskan malamute at first because of his white and black fur.

Also, like my old Link OC Modern, I bet that Danny can’t have potions or anything with magic because it doesn’t exist in his world or the ghost zone, so he never had the necessary biology or something to handle it and will most likely throw up any meals or potions with magic in them. This probably worries some of the group, but Danny doesn’t really care about his healing process possibly being slower without the potions and is more worried about consuming anything containing magic again.

I’m gonna stop before I ramble too much.

[etincelleart]

The more I'm on internet and the more I see harassment and call out posts every single day on various fandoms/artists spaces for all possible reasons and honestly I don't even know what to say outside of the fact that this is so freaking dangerous and wild to put labels and accusations on people you don't even know, or to not even try to understand and seek knownledge about the situation outside of what you want to see and understand. There are real predators doing illegal stuff who need to be stopped and yet people having fun and imagining things for ocs, various characters and ships are being accused of the worst things ever and it follows them everywhere. Tiny things are took as obvious signs of predatory behavior or racism or whatever and this is supposed to be fine.

I don't even mean to bring back the topic of my own story but experiencing dog piling and rumors and serious accusations for months because of a follow is just completely wild when I think about it. With some distance, I think I could have handled everything better when I spoke about it publicly. But I never should have wrote this post in the first place.

Block button exist and report button exist as well for serious problematic elements. My take is that no one deserves harassment and cruelty. But when you say "I'm against harassment and I don't want this person to be harassed", people take it as you defending "problematic" elements and completely distort it anyway. It's honestly exhausting and stupid.

Everyone has something that make them uncomfortable or that triggers them and I have my own standards as well. There are things I consider seriously weird but we don't know people and we don't know any of the intention behind the art. The way you explore something, how you do it, for what reason is what should matter. There are so much things you don't know. Nothing is black and white. I honestly think that as an artist, your art is connected to you, but the themes you work on are NOT reality. Again it's about the intention and how you go about something. I just think media literacy should really be teached at school because wow.

I just thought about expressing myself on this because it's just too serious and harming a lot of people who did nothing. I got attacked over a FOLLOW for someone who did nothing but imagine a future AU for characters and I think that's insane. Everything should be analyzed case by case. There are a real dangers who need to be exposed but this is never a reason or a justification to become cruel or to wish harm to anyone and assume the worst on people you never met. Just take a breath, go outside and learn how to block people, because that's insane the amount of people I had to block because they were being shitty but didn't block me or were still even following me.

I'm trying to not let my emotions get the better of me but that's honestly insane many others and myself got caught into this. The only thing I always did is drawing Nuts and Dolts because that's the only ship I could ever care about in RWBY. Being against harassment is not about defending "bad" people. It's so easy to judge people and make your little assumptions harming REAL people like that.

[elvenbeard]

OC INTERVIEW: Vincent "V" Ezaki

Tagged by: @pinkyjulien @chevvy-yates @wraithsoutlaws and @v-eats-bugs thank you so much!!! <3

I'm gonna steal the idea some of you had and let him answer in character, but I'm gonna put some more context (and/or the truth xD) after Vince's reply where I see fit!

Tagging everyone who sees this and hasn't been tagged yet :3c I think most of you have done this at this point, but do please tag me if you do, I wanna read about your blorbos!!

■ NICKNAME ■ "Just 'V'."

100% going with the "only people that know me really well can use my real name" canon, because I love that scene and moment so much (and the lil nod to it again in the Tower Ending with Johnny ;_;). In my hc, Jackie gave him the nickname "V" on the day they met. Up until then he had always insisted on the full "Vincent" with everyone, and Jackie was the one to urge him to be careful with whom he shares his full identity. Meanwhile it's the other way around and "Vincent" is reserved for friends only... and "Vince" exclusively for Kerry really xD

■ GENDER ■ "Could say I'm a self-made man." ;)

This highly depends on who is asking the question here, if it's a very casual setting he'd say the above, if it's something to go into a screamsheet or whatnot he'd be more like "well, take a wild fuckin' guess" or just "male". He doesn't hide the fact he's trans, and he's proud of his journey and identity, but it's still not something he'd want to publically discuss with strangers without anything to gain from it.

■ STAR SIGN ■ "Gemini I think, but I gotta say, astrology isn't exactly something I have deep knowledge or opinions about."

He celebrates his birthday June 10th, but his real birthday in in September, so he's actually a Libra xD

■ HEIGHT ■ "5'6."

■ ORIENTATION ■ "Sorry ladies." ;)

Again, highly contextual on who is asking, and depending on that his answer might be more evasive or he'd just decline to answer. The less details about his private life are in the public's eye the better. But if the context is a fun night out with friends and he feels safe, he'd definitely give a more cheeky response and, to not get anyone's hopes up, just straightforward let them know he's gay.

■ NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY■ "Born and raised in Night City and a proud citizen ever since."

He doesn't talk about his family because he's cut ties with them long ago. His mother, Marcella, was also from Night City, your average NUS citizen with mixed European heritage. His father, Kousuke, was Japanese. He and Vince's mother met through work for a certain corporation that wasn't necessarily welcome in NC at the time (but I bet my ass still very much present in one way or another).

■ FAVE FRUIT ■ "When I was a kid, I once had daifuku with real, straight-from-the-ground strawberries. Somewhere way out there on the Japanese countryside, couldn't tell you where exactly anymore. Still got no idea where they even got the strawberries from, but no RealFruit ever matched those."

■ FAVE SEASON ■ "Don't think I have a real preference here, 'specially cause Night City's warm all year round. I like it that way. Could do with less sandstorms though. I like it when it rains now and then, the steam on the asphalt, everything is just... quieter, in a way."

■ FAVE FLOWER ■ "One made from plastic."

Vince doesn't have a green thumb and no mind to care for plants either. He's far from an outdoorsy, nature-loving person XD Do not gift him flowers, he will not know what to do with them. That being said though: he has two big stylized lotus flowers tattooed. The first one he got shortly before he left his home, when he began his transition. The second after his top surgery, when he already worked for Arasaka, as a reminder to stay true to himself on the inside, especially whenever he couldn't outwardly. He just likes the lotus aesthetically, the shapes and symmetry, and that it symbolizes rebirth and transformation.

■ FAVE SCENT ■ "Clean bedsheets and freshly brewed green tea."

And the odd mix of Kerry's overpriced bodywash and favourite cigarettes XD

■ COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE ■ "Yes, in that order please. Coffee with milk and sugar, tea is fine just plain, green or black."

He's definitely more of a coffee than a tea drinker, and whatever it is, it's gotta be a little fancy xD Vince is the kind of person with a long-ass signature order at the coffee shop, and I 100% see him loving bubble tea in any combination and variation in existence. The only time he drinks his coffee black is when he accidentally orders "the same as him" in a moment of distraction at Caliente's with Kerry. But tea he occasionally likes just plain, but then it has to be high quality organic real tea leaves. Hot chocolate is a nice special treat, too.

■ AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP ■ "Even in my line of work a regular sleep schedule is possible - and necessary, to stay sharp. I try to get my 7 hours of sleep in."

The somewhat regular sleep schedule is really something he values and tries to stick to, although the Relic and Johnny's presence really mess it up for a long while. But especially because his lack of sleep while working at Arasaka contributed to him developing a drug addiction to cope with the stress and sleep-deprivation it's something he doesn't want to fall back into.

■ DOG OR CAT PERSON ■ "Defintiely cats."

■ DREAM TRIP ■ "I'd like to return to Japan one day for a short vacation - see if I can find that daifuku shop again, haha. Would also love to visit Europe more extensively than what I've seen of it so far. And, who knows, maybe the Crystal Palace one day."

And the Phillipines with Kerry <3

■ FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER ■ "Ooohhh, that's a hard question, let me think for a moment... [insert long analysis of different movie and video game characters and why they're good or bad and why he likes them or not]"

Evading this a little bit because I don't wanna dive into a rabbit hole of seeing what canonical fictional characters there are and why Vince might like them or not xD He is a big nerd and a gamer and knows so much more than I do XD Also, he'd 100% be the kind of person who's rooting for the evil guys, because often their motivations and goals are much more complex and interesting than the "hero's" in his eyes xD and he's fascinated by the concept that they're doomed to lose by the narrative usually (because the good guys usually win), but still fight tooth and nail to achieve their goals and safe their own skin. He can relate to that a lot more than the selfless goodie-two-shoes who just want to save the world and make it a better place.

■ NUMBER OF BLANKETS THEY SLEEP WITH ■ "In this weather one is more than enough. Sometimes none is better."

■ RANDOM FACT ■ "It takes around 7 seconds for someone to form a solid first impression of you in a face-to-face conversation. It takes my Kiroshis' scanners half as long to additionally supply me with all the data on you I need to permanently ruin your life for good."

[jokerislandgirl32]

What is Zach’s job after he becomes good? Does he still invent just not use animals?

Hello, thank you so much for this ask! I am sorry it took me forever to get to it, but I’ve been thinking on it for a while and considering how these questions play into the greater role of my Wild Violet AU. And, after the events of the Our Blue and Green World special, I feel it is the perfect time to address this!

The short answer to your question is exactly how you presented it: Zach does continue to invent after he forgoes a life of villainy, and he simply does not use animals as the power source anymore.

But, there is more to this part of Zach’s story in my AU: Namely, he not only continues to be an inventor, but he becomes a member of the Wild Kratts Team alongside his wife Violet. Specifically, Zach and Violet join forces with Aviva and the rest of the Wild Kratts gang to create and utilize inventions that will benefit the greater creature world around them.

A detailed and long winded explanation as to why and how this happened can be found below the cut!

Within my Wild Violet AU, Zach turns from a life of villainy after the birth of his and my OC Violet’s oldest daughter Varina Virginia Varmitech. Immediately following her birth, Zach and Aviva have a discussion regarding the importance of a happy, healthy, comfortable, and full life for all living creatures, more of which can be found at this post!

This discussion helps Zach to come to the realization that he no longer feels the burning desire to be a villain like he once did; he in fact may not want to be a villain at all anymore. In the month after Varina’s birth, Zach and Violet are kept apart from Varina because she is in the NICU. They spend as much time with her as possible, and the Wild Kratts crew come by to visit the new family as well (either with Varina in the hospital or with Zach and Violet at Zach’s headquarters).

Zach and Aviva manage to rekindle their friendship during this time. At first their interactions are still tense, but they eventually become as close as they were as kids at summer camp prior to their falling out (I’ll be posting more on this, in response to another ask, soon).

Aviva becomes such a strong source of encouragement to Zach as he struggles through the first months of fatherhood. And during this time, she continuously encourages him to truly consider turning from a life of villainy as he expressed following Varina’s birth. Zach begins to consider what his life may look life if he’s not a villain, and he goes to Violet with dilemma.

Zach: “I just don’t know what I’ll do if I’m not a villain…”

Violet: “Well, what did you do before you became a villain?”

Zach: “I invented…I dreamed of becoming the World’s Greatest Inventor…”

Violet: “Then there’s your answer: Invent. Make the inventions that will help you to achieve that goal.”

Zach: “But…Aviva…she made my greatest invention…the Creature Power Disks…how can I compete with that?”

(PS: I will give moor info on this in another post very soon!)

Violet: “Who says you have to compete with her? Why can’t you make an even greater invention that the world will always remember you for? I’ve been telling you for years that you’re capable of anything you set your mind to, and you are!”

Zach: “I know…but…I just can’t do what she does alone. Sure, I have you and the Zachbots, but I really want to make a difference like Aviva has, and I just don’t think we can do that by ourselves.”

Violet: “Yeah, I think you’re right, you’d need a well formed team to reach your goals, and a team of a husband, wife, and an army of robots isn’t enough…”

Zach: “What are you saying?”

Violet: “Maybe we should ask some Wild Rats if they’d like for a couple of Wild Violets to join their team?”

Zach: “You mean work with the Wild Rats?!?! Invent with Aviva?!?!”

Violet: “Bingo! Zachy is the winner!”

So, Zach and Violet join the Wild Kratts Team and Zach and Aviva become invention partners working to better the world around them through their inventions! I have yet to determine the exact nature of their joint inventions, but they typically contain the basic components included in Aviva’s previous inventions: Animal inspiration.

I also think that together, with the help of Violet and the rest of the Wild Kratts Crew, Zach and Aviva embark on a mission to find a cure for cancer. Again, I am not 100% sure of the way in which this would occur, but I think they may discover a plant with extreme healing properties, and Zach and Violet realize that these properties may cure cancer. Aviva, then, assists them and together the three of them and the rest of the team create this much needed, life saving cure.

For those of you who read all of this, I hope you enjoyed it! I have more Zach/Ziolet/Wild Kratts Content coming your way!

[unicornbobatea]

So y'all know how @leslielumarie has a Corruption AU for her character Papaya, right?

Well, since Reese here is also doomed by the narrative, I thought it'd be pretty cool to do a darker Reese AU as well. This post was originally going to be dedicated to my old Nightmare Demon OC "Cinnabar", but all of the aspects that were associated with that OC went into making what I call "Crimson!Reese". Please enjoy the short story snippet below, which is followed by some design notes.

Luca sat quietly on the train, reflecting on recent events. How was it possible for someone to kill one of his family members? And not just any of his family, but Vance of all demons was the one to die. Who could've done such a thing? A man from across the bus looked at Luca and spoke up with a weak croak.

"Where are you headed, boy?" the old man croned.

"Amanita," Luca said quietly. No need to hide the fact that he was headed to a town in the middle of nowhere.

"If you're just going there to wander around, I suggest a different location," the man says. Luca only raises an eyebrow. "Folks over at that town ain't themselves nowadays. They drag their feet and hallucinate, talking about horrors too personal to share. Like they're dreaming while awake or somethin'," the old man rambles on. Luca slowly turned his gaze to look out the window. If what the old man was saying were true, then a Nightmare Demon could very well be in the sleepy old town of Amanita...

The sun's descent crossed with the moonrise as Luca got off the bus, ignoring the old man's warnings. Just as the old man had said, there were a few wandering people who were dreaming with their eyes wide open, something only a Nightmare Demon could force upon people. Luca walked forward, going deeper into the town as night fell upon the streets.

The moon took its position high in the sky, yet none of the street lamps would light.

Luca's ear twitched as a ferocious punch came from behind him, dodging out of the way and continuing to evade as more punches came his way. Luca threw his palms forward, catching his attacker's fists in his hands before grabbing the assailant's wrists and throwing him far away towards a wall.

Whoever tried to hit him, his mask was covered, with only his glowing yellow eyes showing. He wore no shirt, but covered his torso in a heavy, teal denim jacket with beige fur. His black jeans were ripped at the knees, and his black canvas slip-ons were heavily scuffed.

"Long time, no see," the attacker smiled, unmasking himself.

"No... it can't be..." Luca whispered to himself. He knew that voice, and he knew that face, but he didn't know the Nightmare Demon standing before him. Reese would never attack him, and Reese would never destroy a town like this.

Reese launched another onslaught of attacks at Luca, firing streams of Nightmare Gas that Luca deflected with his own blasts of Nightmare Gas. Reese wasn't even close to Luca's skill level, but he was still giving Luca a hard time.

"Seems like this old thing's weighing me down..." Reese snarled, taking off his jacket. He came at Luca again, but much faster this time, forcing Luca to take him seriously, to the point where Luca would admit that Reese was keeping him on his toes. At some point, Luca saw Reese's back, which shocked him. He never thought he'd see Reese develop a gash, much less one that was blood-red.

"You know, when I killed Vance, I thought it was too easy. Thankfully you're as much of a fun challenge as I'd hoped!" Reese laughed, meeting Luca blow-for-blow. Luca couldn't dwell on the fact that his cousin's death was at Reese's hand, and focused on finishing the fight.

Eventually, after an hour or so of fighting, Reese slipped up, giving Luca an opening to grab his head and slam him into the ground.

"Reese! This stops now!!" Luca yelled into the night. He was met only with wild, pained, echoing laughter.

"YOU'LL HAVE TO KILL ME FIRST, LUCA!!" Reese yelled back.

Reese went insane after losing both Papaya and Enoch. After Luca cuts contact with him, Reese sees it as "abandonment", leading him to go insane.

Reese has a block of pale highlights in his hair. Unlike Corruption!Papaya, who (I would assume) got streaks in honour of and due to his attachment to Luca, Crimson!Reese's highlights are a form of mockery.

Reese's gash is in the shape of a heart, and is located on his back in the middle of his trapezius. This is something that was taken from my discarded NMD OC, Cinnabar.

LeslieLu Marie mentions that Luca's purple gashes are a property of his bloodline. Most NMDs have blue gashes. No official mention of red (yet), but I'll bet that Reese's red gash probably breaks existing NMD lore. On my part, I used red because 1.) Hearts are typically depicted as red and 2.) Red for Rage bro, Reese in this AU has unending rage.

Reese's jacket used to be Enoch's. Where did it come from? Well, "we do a little grave robbing. As a treat".

Reese has much more visible musculature after going insane.

Reese killed Vance as vengeance for Vance killing Papaya.

Reese still has a happy-go-lucky personality, but it's only a front, and he takes an unseemly pleasure in murdering both human and NMD alike. You know Flowey from Undertale? Yeah, that.

Reese's goal is to either kill Luca or die by his hand since there's nothing else to live for, at least in his mind.

In order to kill Vance (and possibly Luca), Reese becomes a capable fighter and enhances his strength and his speed to the point that he can dodge an arrow aimed directly at his head. This is another aspect taken from Cinnabar.

I really like what I've come up with! I always liked Reese as a character, and I really liked Corruption!Papaya. I knew I wanted to do a similar AU for Reese at some point, and here it is!

Papaya in this AU is probably rolling in his grave huh?

[leeknowsintrusivethots]

Marked By Him

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Pairings: Vampire!Lee Know/OC, Vampire!Bangchan/OC (suprise!!!!) Summary: Vampyres dominate the entertainment world with their otherworldly beauty and talent. It’s a world you must be born into, but a few lucky ones are Marked. Stripped from her home and everything she knows, Minji’s Marking means that she has to rely on the Devil himself, Lee Minho, to be her mentor. He’s cute and sweet to the public, but behind closed doors the monster comes out to play. Content: Angst, Slow burn, lotsa plot, eventual smut, vampires, dark themes, original characters, first person perspective, general 18+ content, alternate idol universe, asshole Lee Know, surprise love triangle, discussion of blood, discussions of death, depictions of violence, sexual tension, petnames/kitten, WC: 3164 Minors do not interact. Do not repost my content to other websites, this includes translations. Notes: Mother, may I trust the government? No. Never. Always question authority.

My heart was set on drastic action. If there was some Earth shattering plot going on with the Association at the detriment of Marks, it would be in my interest in self preservation to jump ship. I had to get out before the ship capsized and the captains revealed themselves and their true colors.

But what was I even running from?

Every person in my life who could help me seemed intent on letting me sink or find out how to swim on my own. Maeri was human. Our conversations consisted of talks about schedules, food, our hometowns, and what idols we hoped to one day interact with. Yoojin was more connected, but she never spoke of the Association. I knew it was a part of the front she put up to protect my feelings, but she never even seemed to take notice I was Marked. I was usually grateful for it, but the only other two people in my life who were connected enough to inform me were brick walls with secrets encased in cement. 

My lack of insight was only compounded by facts of science. As a Mark, I was reliant on the same people who seemed to endanger me for survival. Without the contact of a fully fledged Vampyre, I would die. 

Ordinary Vampyres existed. They were regular citizens working run-of-the-mill jobs with families and taxes to pay. They rarely advertised that they were Vampyres in the yellow pages. Tracking one down would be a feat of modern communications technology, but getting one to take in stray Mark would be a battle of life and death. It was not plausible, and it was potentially more dangerous than simply accepting my fate at JYP. 

Maybe it was the Vampyric hormones running rampant in my system, but the battle of wits and instinct was taking a toll. I didn’t know whether I was scared, sad, or angry. A small part of what rational thought was left told me I was probably overreacting, regardless. The only proof I had of anything was based on my own wild speculation and the cryptic hints of two near strangers. They were beautiful strangers, but strangers still. I didn’t really know them, so why should I trust anything they said when they weren’t even saying much?

My brain was simmering with sudden anger. 

Bangchan was forgivable. He owed me nothing. He was not tied to me nor obliged to help me. He was kind, but I had no right to even expect that from him.

Lee Minho was a different beast. I didn’t know how he was assigned to be my Mentor. He could have volunteered or been randomly drafted by the company for all I knew, but it didn’t change the fact that he was my Mentor. 

The stupid informational packets the Association handed out to new Marks and their families made Mentors out to be the angelic saviors of poor young adults thrown into an unfamiliar and scary world. They were supposed to be wise leaders who could teach and guide Marks to have a more comfortable adjustment into Vampyrism: the Dumbledores of the Vampyric world. The pamphlets had even stated the bond between Mark and Mentor was something so special that it went beyond the roles of student and teacher. It could even transcend typical human relations such as friendship and family.

Instead of a guiding angel, I had gotten a trickster demon with a penchant for confusion and misery. He had no intention of helping me - he didn’t even seem to care if I lived or died. Thoughts of his apathy spurred my fury. It was a blind rage, but one with intent. 

One second I was simmering in anger at the countertop where Bangchan had left me, and the next I was boiling in vitriol at my usual seat in Conference Room Zero. I hardly remembered my angry walk and elevator ride, but the wait will forever be burned into my memory. The magical looking baubles and books that normally occupied my wait didn’t even register on my radar. I felt like I was feeling everything and nothing at the same time. My mind flashed with images of violence and terror that should be reserved for nightmares. 

The subject of every single image: Lee Minho. 

One second he was looming above my bloody and desecrated corpse with a grin of manic evil. The next we had switched places and I became the murderer. Then his mouth was at my neck, draining me of my life’s essence with ecstasy all over his face. Then I was draining him in pure, blissful rapture. It was a brutal back and forth between predator and prey.

It was a confusing, twisted, endless barrage that fueled the primal rage coursing through my veins and mixing with adrenaline. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want fate to make me another unknown statistic in a long list of Marks that didn’t make the Change. 

Become the predator. It was a thought. It was unbidden, and unfamiliar. It had my adrenaline in overdrive. 

When the conference room door opened, all I saw was red. 

I spent my life hearing about tragedies that happened to others in the news. They often spoke of out-of-body experiences: they knew what was happening but it didn’t feel as if it were happening to them. I never thought to experience the phenomenon myself, but I knew what I was doing. I could see my body lunge from the cushiony chair with a speed I didn’t know I was capable of. I could see Lee Minho’s beautiful face turn from mild annoyance to shock. I couldn’t feel him, but I could see my body collide with his, slamming the heavy door shut as we collided. 

I was out of control, and I didn’t know how to stop it. 

“Minji!” Lee Minho called out. It wasn’t his usual sardonic, laissez-faire tone. It was authoritative. It had my mind compelling my body to stop with fervor. I was internally begging. I didn’t want whatever was happening to happen, but I was not a master of myself at that moment. 

Violence. Rage. Aggression. 

Devour him. Tear into his pretty neck. Feed. Murder. 

“Dammit, Minji,” Minho grunted from below me. I was straddling him, my knees to either side of his waist and my head bending to the smooth crook that gracefully fell off to his shoulders. It was so beautiful, clear, and pristine. Vampyres had heartbeats, contrary to common belief. They were simply much more faint than humans, but I could see his. It was all I could see. It was the source of his life, and the monster inside of me wanted to claim it.

There was a scuffle. Limbs twisting, entangling. His hands were on me, fighting back against my instincts even as I was helpless to control them. I didn’t understand. I didn’t want to. I had one clear, and singular goal: to taste, consume, and destroy. 

Instincts were often at odds with logic. I was a new Mark, and Minho was a full, grown Vampyre. He was stronger. Had I been capable of thought, I would have known that. I would have never attacked him in the first place, and I would have certainly stopped when he switched our positions. I was on my back, chest heaving under him and body still fighting despite the odds not being in my favor. My hands clawed at him, scraping against the fabric of the shirt covering his chest. He was quick to incapacitate them, clasping both in each of his own and holding them above my head as his face hovered inches from mine. 

I still struggled against his hold - the fight coursing through me like an addictive drug. Nothing could stop it - stop me - until the length of one of his thighs pushed between mine to better pin me to the ground. The sound that escaped my mouth was animalistic. Want replaced rage. 

“Minho-” I started. I didn’t know what I would say. I didn’t even know who I was. Everything was a mess of emotion - all in shades of red. It was the first and only lesson Lee Minho had taught me: rage and desire were two sides of the same coin. 

“It’s happening sooner than we thought,” he mused. He said it out loud, but he didn’t appear to be speaking to me. His focus was on the Mark above my eyes. 

“Minho,” I whined his name again as he shifted obliviously above me. The movement had his thigh pressing further into my clothed sex. The excitement from the fight had transferred easily into a much different excitement, but I was slowly regaining control of myself and mortification and horror were becoming prominent. 

It took him all but a second to catch on. His eyes trailed down to mine, then to my lips, and further until he took stock of the way our bodies pressed together. I could feel him shift again, and I gasped in response. With brain and body mostly in unison again, I resisted the powerful urge to move my hips against him, seeking more of the delicious pressure he was teasing me with. 

“You’re doing it on purpose now,” I grunted in annoyance.

“Doing what?” He asked with wide, innocent eyes. 

“Please,” I whimpered when he did it again. My hands were still trapped by his - my entire body held captive by him. I was begging, but I didn’t know if it was for release or pleasure. 

“I think I like you better like this. You’re much sweeter,” he mocked with his familiar smirk curving his soft lips. I hated it, but I still felt it all the way to the tips of my toes. 

“You’re an asshole,” I grunted in frustration.

“I’m an asshole? You just attacked me,” he stated calmly. 

At the reminder of my inexplicable actions, my mood sobered. Something was happening to me. I didn’t understand it, and I could not control it. “Why? Why did I do that?”

The world was turning upside down again. Lee Minho’s expression softened. The teasing light in his eyes extinguished. The smirk on his lips fell flat. There was pity written all over his face - pity aimed in my direction. 

“Don’t do that,” I snapped at his change in demeanor. “I don’t want your sympathy. Just explain. Help me learn to control whatever is happening.”

“You can’t.” He was moving, climbing off me and freeing me from him. He stood above me, almost hesitant, before dropping into his usual chair with a concerning lack of his normal grace. I scrambled to my feet on my own, but I didn’t sit. I was too emotional. If I sat, I was afraid I would crumble. 

“Why not?” I demanded. I could feel myself working into a frenzy, spinning out of control all over again. Is this what life would be like from now on? “I can’t handle it, Minho. I came here with intent, but not to murder. I just wanted answers: that’s all. I swear it, but-”

“But then emotion took over, and you became its slave,” he helpfully supplied. He was studying me intently. Watching my reaction to his statement like it was the most important thing in the world. “You wanted to kill me, drain me.”

“Yes. How did you-”

“That's how -” he cut me off before halting himself. He weighed his next words before continuing. “That’s how I’ve heard it described: like a monster lurking in your subconscious.”

“It doesn’t happen to full Vampyres?” I asked curiously. 

“Sort of. You feel the urges: feed, kill, fuck,” he spoke softly despite the crassness of his statement. I would be lying if I said such dirty words coming from such a beautiful face didn’t affect me, but I fought against it. This was the most information he had offered yet, and I would not waste the opportunity. “It’s in our nature, but not to that extent. Marks feel it more.”

“It’s not my nature. I’m not violent. I cry when characters die in shows, even the supporting cast!” I insisted with a strange desire to prove my morals to myself. 

“Whatever you were before, forget it. Trying to fight it only makes it worse. It's instinct - it can be misguided, but it’s not usually wrong.” His words felt like ice water being dumped over my head. It was uncomfortable, and chilling.

“Minho!” I exclaimed in exasperation. “I just tried to kill you.”

“But you didn’t,” he replied easily. Maybe a complete lack of care for the sanctity of life was a staple of his personality. He shrugged off a murder attempt on his life with barely a thought given to it. 

“But I tried! How is that not wrong? What if I try to murder someone who isn’t as strong as you?” I asked in horror. Maeri came to mind - her face bright and sweet. What if I lost control during one of our spats and tried to murder her? She didn’t have Vampyric strength. I would succeed. 

“Why did you try to kill me, Minji?” Minho broke into my panic. He leveled me with his intense stare again. 

“I was confused. There’s so much I don’t know, and you won’t tell me anything. It made me angry, and admittedly scared.”

“Anger. Fear. Self preservation. These are not negative things. One day, they may even save your life,” he guided gently. His sudden willingness to help me had me reeling with conflict yet again. He was cold - sometimes even mean - but he held a certain softness that he tried to hide. I had only gotten brief glimpses, but I could see it. Maybe his beautiful but cruel face was a mask after all. 

“Would killing you save me?” I asked. My voice was dripping with sarcasm, almost venomous. That in of itself was instinct - self preservation. Cold Minho would kill me. Soft Minho would unravel my entire world before ending in homicide. 

“No. Your demise might be a bit more abrupt without me around.” He stood as he spoke, never letting his gaze drop mine. I was becoming accustomed to his searching and often condescending looks, but as he got closer, I became increasingly more frustrated. He was intent, focused. I might have daydreamed many times about him looking at me like that but under very different circumstances. 

“Come here,” he crooned as he took my hands into his colder ones. Without giving me a chance to protest, he tugged me along until we stood in front of an old, standing mirror. He stood behind me, nudging my attention to my reflection with the command, “Look.”

I didn’t need his guidance to find out what he wanted me to look at. It was obvious, and it chilled me to the depths of my soul. The outline of a crescent moon that had once graced the skin of my forehead was no more. The shape was still there, but it was filled with a dark purple that was even more ostentatious than before. Surrounding it were fainter, more delicate lines that swirled from the core of the moon to my temples. 

“What the fuck,” I gasped in shock.

“Don’t worry,” Minho cajoled from behind me. His hand had dropped mine only for him to grip my waist lightly with both. He stared at me in the mirror, watching my reflection with curious eyes over my shoulder. “It’s supposed to do that. It’s actually a good thing.”

“Why is it good?”

“I didn’t think it would happen so fast, but it’s a sign of the Change advancing. Your chances of death have decreased by…” He trailed off, squinting his eyes in exaggerated thought. “Two percent?”

“Joy,” I grumbled out, earning the rumble of a chuckle that I could feel at my back. 

“The Change itself can kill you, Minji. It’s fairly common, actually. Your book covers it briefly, but the Mark expanding is a sign that your body is adjusting,” he informed me. 

“Just another ugly truth that the Association doesn’t want to share?”

“Good, Kitten,” he praised, using the infamous pet name he called me at our first meeting. I felt my toes curl in my sneakers. The Change was a confusing beast, but Lee Minho was worse. “You’re finally catching on.”

“Minho,” I called to him suddenly, seriously. I held his gaze in the mirror feeling bolder and more brave with the glass acting as a barrier. “Is the Association a threat?”

“Government entities are always a threat when absolute power is placed in their hands.”

“You’re being vague again. I want a proper answer.” My words were hard, unfaltering. I was determined to know. I couldn’t protect myself if I didn’t know what I was protecting myself from. 

“That was a proper answer. The Association has absolute power in the Vampryic world and close ties with human governments,” he supplied. 

“That doesn’t explain how they are a threat to Marks - to me,” I insisted. 

I saw it before it happened. His face closed off, his mocking grin marring his features as his eyes hardened to dark crystals. Then his hands left me as he stepped out of my range. Lee Minho had put his mask back on. 

“I never said they were,” he refuted nonchalantly. “Our time is up for tonight.”

“You-”

“A last word of advice,” he called as he headed for the door. He turned back around to face me with his lithe fingers on the knob. His words were more ice water being dumped over me, drowning me in cold and misery. “All of us, you included, have a part to play. It’s how the system works. They say dance, and we do. They want us to sing and look pretty, so we do that too. Sometimes the strings break.”

His gaze dropped mine for just a fraction of a second. He was faltering, and for that moment, I saw it: uncertainty, maybe even fear. Why would Lee Minho be scared of anything? Before I could ponder it, he was continuing. 

“When they break, we marionettes get a moment of reprieve to think. Just a moment, because if you stop dancing for too long they will notice. What do you think happens if we ruin the performance?”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t even sure I knew how to. He was back to his cryptic warnings - confusing and tormenting me all in one. 

“Dance, Kitten. Know your place and dance within the lines they’ve defined or you will be dealt with.”

“What is my place?” I all but screamed. I was getting frustrated again, the anger building back up to mix with fear. If I had learned anything from the night, it was that those two emotions were a dangerous combination that could combust with devastating consequences. 

All I got in response was a mocking smirk as Lee Minho left me without proper answers once again. 

[luna-andra]

The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Chapter 4: Breathe

Author's Note: I'm off of hiatus! 🎉 I'm already 3k words deep into chapter 5, so that should be coming out soon. Here's to writing more in 2024 (if anyone still cares about this fic lol) 😁

Word count: 6.2k

Content warning: slow burn, eventual smut, 18+ only, fluff, mentions of mental health

Chapter 1 to start from the beginning. Next chapter

It in fact did not hold. Even worse, it happened within a couple of days. The cherry on top? Andra was unaware as she sat curled up with the book Ghost had pulled off her bookshelf. She was revisiting the story, with a flush that crept up on her face, radiating the apples of her cheeks. The chances of her losing all ability to sit there without so much of a hue of red on her face would be dead in the water. And imagining Ghost’s voice narrating the male’s dialogue? No shot she would be alive after hearing him whisper that shit in her ear. 

Sammy’s frantic bark snatched her out of the shameful fantasy, warning her that something was awry outside. Andra plopped her book down without a second thought, slipping a finger through the window blinds to find her chickens free-roaming outside the pen. “Shit.” She grabbed the cream-colored cardigan from the back of the couch and threw it on and slipped her feet in some easy access shoes, darting outside to go scoop up each chicken. One by one, she stuffed them back into the cozy chicken coop where they would be on lockdown, muttering profanities and curses under her breath. 

All of them went willingly and without so much of a fight. Except for the broody hen, Helen. “Cut it out!” Andra hisses as she winced at the peck of her angry little beak. Her feathers stopped flapping frantically as she was shoved into the coop, and Andra swore she received a side eye from the poultry. She did a head count, not seeing any other chickens in the vicinity. There was a rooster missing. “Dammit, Ted…” Andra jogged around the perimeter of her house, followed up with the barn, the enclosure a couple of more times, and lastly the patches of crops, weaving in and out of the stalks of summer produce, on the hunt for that damn rooster. The tracks of chicken prints were too sporadic, too many chickens have toddled around for her to notice any wandering prints veering off in a different direction. Or maybe she just sucked at following tracks. 

At this point she checked every area nearby seven times over. Her throat tightened, eyes burning as she was on the verge of tears. Andra thought of every scenario, the worst including a wild animal finding the rooster and making a meal of him. She cared deeply for her animals. It pained her to think about finding a mangled, poultry corpse in its wake. 

Andra wiped her teary eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan and shambled back inside. Her phone sat next to the book she abandoned, and she went to pick it up to make a phone call. The line rang once, twice, thrice. It forwarded to voicemail. 

“Ghost, it’s me.” Her voice quivered. She cleared her throat to gain composure. “I’m alright, but my chickens got loose and one is missing. Thought I’d give you a heads up if you find one wandering the road or jumped your fence… okay, sorry to bother you.” Andra hung up after leaving the message, and let out a leaden sigh as she sunk into her couch. Sammy senses her distress and provided comfort with a nudge of her nose against her elbow, her big brown eyes looking up to Andra. 

He called it, too. She replayed Ghost telling her, if the chickens get smart, they’ll breach it. Her chickens have half of a brain cell, collectively shared amongst each other. She never expected it to actually happen. She nearly raised those chickens after they hatched, when they were able to be separated from the flock of the breeder she bought from. They were the first farm animals she had ever owned, spending so much time researching before and after owning them, learning their personalities and behaviors. Andra wanted to continue her search, through the backwoods of her property or across the street in the overbrush of weeds and trees, but it felt like it would be too unsafe to go out there without some form of self-defense. So, she curled up into herself on the couch, hands concealing her face and catching the tears falling from her burning eyes.

----- 

Ghost was hit with a wave of uncomfortable heat as he walked out of the psychiatrist’s office. Something else to aggravate the growing headache he seemed to get after the waste of the one-hour session he spent with Dr. Smith. He believed that Ghost made some sort of progress this time around. Why did he have to go and open his mouth about things?  

”Simon, good to see you return.” Dr. Smith always greeted Ghost with the same salutation at every appointment, whether it was genuine or not, Ghost didn’t care. He was probably just relieved that he returned instead of eating one of his own bullets. “What’s new?”  

Ghost’s scowl remained on the clock relentlessly ticking in the back of the room until he decided to direct his attention to his doctor. “Not sleeping well.”  

“Is it worse than the last time we discussed?” He asked with a professional tone. 

Ghost gave a stern nod. “Getting less hours.” He knew the next question that was going to be asked. “Even with the meds, I have been compliant.” 

Doc took a moment to scribble his notes. “What’s changed?” He looked up to meet Ghost’s face sincerely.  

“Took on another project at the shop. Waiting on the parts to come in, but I have been inspecting the rest of the truck to see what else I can patch up to make sure it doesn’t come back too soon.”  

The conversation veered to details about the truck, Ghost’s shoulders relaxed the more he droned on about the project. It was sometimes a relief to discuss work with other people than Soap and the guys at the shop. He was reluctant to admit that he found a kernel of camaraderie with Dr. Smith upon discovering he was a veteran as well. Ghost cared enough to learn about what he did with his time; a mechanical engineer that served and ducked out once his years were up. It sounded like he mildly enjoyed what he did, retiring so he could pursue a different career and took advantage of the education benefits. Smart man. Possibly something Ghost should have done but was too arrogant and young when he had first enlisted back in 2001. 

Dr. Smith pushed his bifocals up the bridge of his nose with a finger. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so invested in a project before.” 

Shit. Ghost fell for the tactic. He let out an exhale as he leaned back in the cushy chair, turning away. “It’s for my neighbor.” 

The sounds of pen scratching against paper filled the silence. “Never heard you talk about your neighbor, or anyone else besides your old mates for that matter.” 

“Her truck breaking down is the reason why we met.” Ghost explained with a tension in his jaw.  

“Is she part of the reason for your loss of sleep?” 

Ghost muttered under his breath, “Christ.” He sat up in his chair and rolled his neck. “This is starting to feel more like a chat I would have with Johnny over drinks rather than a psych appointment.” 

Dr. Smith laid his pen flat on his yellow notepad. “It might not be ground breaking work we are doing here, but you managed to tell me more than you have in the past three sessions we have had.” He got up and walked behind his desk, retrieving a prescription pad from a drawer, and started writing. “If you want, I can up the dose or we can keep it the same and I’ll send you on your way with a refill.” 

There was a relief that came over Ghost. “Let’s keep it the same.” He didn’t want to talk about Andra anymore, and thankfully it was obvious to Dr. Smith. 

“Here we are.” Dr. Smith handed Ghost the white slip of paper with awful chicken scratch. “Keep looking for that humanity, Simon. It’s in there.” 

The truck took an uncomfortable amount of time to cool down. His shirt stuck to his body, increasing his irritation. Might as well start driving to the shop, it’s not gonna get any better. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and felt a haptic vibration in his hand. 

One missed call. 

From Andra. 

Ghost, it’s me. The adrenaline dump flooded his veins. She sounded upset and in distress. He’s never heard her on the verge of tears before, it was like a claw punched a hole in his chest and used his heart as a stress relief toy. Whoever, whatever made her this upset was high on his priority list to handle.  

He had to replay the message another time, realizing the rest was muffled out and ignored after the first three words. I’m alright, but my chickens got loose and one of them is missing. “Christ, woman...” Ghost let out a breath that he was holding in. What a way to start a voicemail, making him think the worst that could have possibly happened. She must have noticed it too because her next words sounded more level-headed.  

He killed the line with the voicemail inbox and dialed the auto shop. “Rus, I gotta call out for the day. I’ll make up my hours, oh and let Mr. Caldwell know his vehicle will be ready tomorrow afternoon, I’ll be there for his pickup.”  

There was no fuss about Ghost calling in on short notice. He was the one person in the shop that the supervisor didn’t have to worry about. Much to his chagrin, he couldn’t say the same about Soap sometimes.  

Ghost shut the door a little harder than he meant to, his head fell back against the headrest as he took a deep breath. Was it happening again? He reached into the glove box, retrieving his pills. His hand tightly gripped around the small orange vial as he worked on controlling his breath. Inhale for five, exhale for five. Ghost hated that stupid technique, it felt ridiculous. But it worked. The panic was subsiding, and the pill bottle fell from his hand onto the floorboard of the truck beside his foot.  

Ghost picked it back up and tossed it into the neat compartment, leaving the parking lot of the office to make his way over to her. 

He pulled up to the sight of Andra kneeling before the broken part of the fence line, putting some kind of temporary fix for the day. Her head perked up as she noticed him coming closer, parking in the dirt driveway. Andra got up on her feet and wiped loose grass and dirt off of her jeans, her eyes red and puffy. He killed the engine and stepped out of the truck. 

“What are you doing here?” Andra sniffled, trying and failing to hide the fact that she’s been crying. 

“Got your message.” He answered. 

Her lip quivered as tears welled up in her irritated eyes again, and she turned her head away to look at the pen. “Ghost, you didn’t have to show up.” She covered her face in her hands, taking in a deep breath. “I just wanted you to let me know if you find him, this didn’t have to turn into a search party.” 

“Where do the tracks end?” 

Andra looked at him again after wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “This way, maybe I’m not sure.” 

He wanted to rag on her about her lack of confidence in tracking prints, but didn’t when he remembered who he was talking to. There was nothing worse in this moment than seeing her so worked up and upset over this damn chicken. He was going to find it for her, it couldn’t have gone far. 

She led him to an area and pointed to the pockmarked ground full of three-toed prints. “This is where they mainly stayed, and, the tracks are just all over the place and don’t really lead anywhere…” 

“There,” Ghost pointed out a trail of individual tracks that led astray. Of course, it wandered off into the thick wooded area of her land. He headed back to the truck to retrieve his pistol, tucking it into the backside waistband of his jeans. Andra wasn’t fazed at the sight of his gun, probably reminded her of being back home. “Stay here, I don’t want you getting hurt out there.” 

“I’m going.” She protested with a broken voice as she followed behind him. 

“I don’t want you getting hurt out there.” Ghost stopped to turn back to her. “And we don’t know if there are any wild animals out there.” 

“You’re gonna want me out there, trust me.” Her voice was firmer this time; she wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

Ghost sighed as he observed her small, trembling frame. She really needed to put something on other than loafers.  “Go put on some sensible shoes, and we’ll look together.” 

Andra was quiet, all except for the crunching leaves beneath her boots. Ghost took the rear, letting her take lead at a short distance. If she was going to trip, fall or hurt herself he would be able to prevent it from turning into a disaster this way. Her shoulders slumped, but her head swiveled as she combed her surroundings. 

“You ever explore these woods?” Ghost breaks the thick silence, and attempt to pull her from her somber. 

She glanced over her shoulder in dismay. “No, I’ve never had the courage to come out here alone. I hear howling late in the night sometimes.” She resumed her diligent search, and Ghost doubled down on what he thought she looked over too quick. 

The tracks were growing thinner, but they still led them into the path of ancient trees. Sunrays bled through the leaves and branches of birch and ash trees, cascading ribbons of light down on Andra. Her hair shimmered with bits of blonde strands within her brunette hair, something Ghost never noticed before. Every rustle made her stop, startled by unknown wildlife. Most times it was the scuttles of lizards across stepping stones and miniature boulders. When it wasn’t this damn chicken, her shoulders would fall with a sigh. 

“We’ll hear it before we see it.” Ghost reassured her. 

“He’s probably dead by now…” 

It pained him to see Andra sulk over her lost animal. Ghost stopped beside where she planted herself, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. She looked down to his touch, then up to his masked face in surprise. “Let’s keep looking.” His hand retreated before she could place her own hand over his, then another rustle in a wild bush a few meters ahead alerted him. 

The damn bird came clucking out from behind it. 

“Ted!” Andra exclaimed as she raced to him, collecting the brainless animal into her arms and embraced him. “You stupid fucking bird, making us come out here to get you.” 

“You named the bloody thing Ted?” Ghost deadpanned. 

She plucked bits of leaves and twigs out of Ted’s feathers. “I never said I was good with coming up with names for animals.” 

Ghost chuckled at the sight of the brightness returning to her face. She met his eyes, kindness and gratitude radiating before she could even tell him with words. “Thank you, Ghost. You’re always coming to my rescue.” 

His heart jolted at her words. “Don’t make a habit of it.” Andra’s giggle made him turn away to hide his sheepish reaction. Andra passed him up, focused on grooming Ted and insulting him fifty different ways. Something caught his eye before he started to follow her. 

Footprints. 

Not their footprints, these were in an area off the beaten path. Ghost retrieved his firearm before stalking towards them, inspecting the prints. They were older, it wasn’t from recently and there were more than one set. Three sets of footprints. He turned his attention to the direction Andra was walking away, unaware that he stopped to investigate. 

It couldn’t be some random people or even kids coming out to wander these woods, at least that’s what Ghost convinced himself. They were too far out away from town, away from other neighboring people. Who knows, maybe the group was traveling their own acres and turned back around once they realized they came into someone else’s property. He really wanted to believe that, and not the darker theory that crept into his thoughts. Or did she lie about coming out here? Why would she do that? She could have easily explained she had gone exploring with a group. 

All of the prints looked too big for her foot size.  

Ghost didn’t want to alarm Andra. He just got her to smile again, this conversation will come up later.

----- 

Ghost was relieved to see Andra’s spirits lifting without another tear in sight. That stupid bird put her through enough turmoil, he’d rather never have to see her like that again. She was going over the details of how the broken pen and runaway chickens were discovered. “They would have all been gone if Sammy hadn’t barked at the window.”  

“What had you so distracted?” Ghost poked with mild curiosity.  

Her answer left out of her rushed before she could stop herself. “I was reading – and in between I was prepping some dough to make sourdough bread.” She interrupted herself once more, lost in her own thoughts. “Oh no, did I leave it on the counter or did I put it in the oven to rise? It’ll be fine if it rises for a few more hours, right?”  

It sounded like she was talking to herself more than asking Ghost, which was fine because he didn’t know the first thing about baking bread. He chuckled to himself. “Horror or romance?”  

“Huh?” Her external ramble was interrupted.  

“Were you reading horror or romance this time?” Ghost glanced at her briefly, his smirk concealed beneath the mask.  

Andra went sheepish once more. “Romance,” then, her tone shifted as she grumbled, “It was getting good until you gave my pen Ojo.”  

Ghost whipped his head to her direction quickly with a perplexed expression. “I did what now?” What does an eye have to do with anything?  

“You gave it the Evil Eye,” she looked back to him. “That’s why it broke.”  

His fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he waited for the light to change, feeling even more confused now. Ghost let out a lighthearted scoff. “It’s my fault that it broke now?”  

Andra huffed a defeated sigh. “No, I’m just being ridiculous.”  

If that’s what it was, Ghost found it amusing. “So now you’re gonna ‘ave to explain the Evil Eye to me.”  

“We have this superstition in Mexican/Hispanic culture where if you look at something for too long, you can potentially send bad energy its way. It can be an object or a person, and to cancel it out you can touch it or them.”  

“That’s not a thing.” Ghost retorted, holding back laughter. “I never heard about that when I was in Mexico.”  

A playful smirk crept over Andra’s face. “Maybe because they believed you were the Evil Eye incarnate.”  

Ghost let out a sarcastic laugh. “Very clever.” The truck rolled into the parking lot of the hardware store, locating a convenient parking spot nearest to the store. Ghost cut the engine, and sat there for a second. “Well, if that’s the case,” Andra gave him a puzzled look as he reached out to run a strand of her soft hair between his fingers. “That way your hair doesn’t fall out.”  

The gesture was well worth the furious blush that spread over her face like wildfire, despite his own heart jackhammering in his chest.

-----  

Ghost was reassessing the hole in the pen while Andra let out Sammy to run around and handle her business. He gives her a quick greeting pet before standing on his feet, gesturing to the pen. “We can either replace this side or replace the entire perimeter.” 

“Might as well use all of the supplies I bought.” Andra pulled her work gloves out from her back pocket and slipped them on. “We work on different sides?” 

He nodded with a grunt. Watching Ghost haul the supplies off the bed of his truck was something Andra couldn’t pull her focus away from. What is wrong with me? She was acting like the sight of muscle and sinew flexing and tightening beneath his work shirt was… erotic. And Gods, every time he grunted and growled from the weight of whatever he hauled off his truck… that’s it, no more romance books for you for a week. He slid on his own gloves, this pair had her biting back a smirk. They matched his skull balaclava, and it made her wonder if he shuffled around in skeleton-patterned socks in the comfort of his house. 

She looked away with a smirk when Ghost noticed she was gawking. “I know, I know, don’t say anything.” 

“I didn’t.” Andra’s voice went up in pitch. Her smile grew when she caught a glimpse of him shaking his head in her peripherals. 

Ghost was fun to tease, and his choice of gear made it easier to find something to poke fun at. Was it low hanging fruit? Sure, but it’s all she had to tease him for. The joking around was her way of trying to learn more about people, and if they could laugh or joke back, they were worth getting to know. It was the ones who stuck their noses up at Andra that she steers clear from. 

The work began, and Ghost had Andra looking like she had never picked up a hardware tool in her life. While she had one length of old fencing nails removed, Ghost was nearly done with the sides of his wall. The man knew how to work efficiently, it didn’t even look like he was breaking a sweat. 

“Did your dad teach you how to do blue collar work?” Andra asked as she struggled with a nail. 

His rhythm and focus was derailed by her question. “No, old man wasn’t worth shit.” 

Oh… the gravel in his voice sent a chill down her spine. Estranged father, got it. 

Ghost resumed, cutting out the needed dimensions of chicken wire. Andra could see him blink a few times, that calloused glare lingering. “I did some work in basic and before I was sent off to my specialized unit, not making chicken pens, but we learned out way around manual tools for several things.” He went quiet once more to concentrate on the measurements. 

Andra threw aside the old chicken wire once she pulled out all of the nails. “Do you have any siblings?” 

He hesitated before answering. “An older brother.” 

“Oh.” She started unfurling her needed piece of wire. “Do you stay in contact with him?” 

“No.” His answer came out short and quick, nearly cutting Andra off. 

What am I doing? Andra frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up something you don’t want to talk about.” 

Ghost sighed as he used the staple gun to nail in the new wire. “No one ever asks, so I’m not used to talking about it. Considering you’re quite chatty, it was bound to come up.” Her cheeks burned from his comment. “Maybe someday.” 

That hardened look softened to humor, and relief washed over her. Don’t bring up the family. She felt stupid for mentioning it. Maybe she would never learn more about the mysterious man who, for some reason, kept helping her out when she’s been nothing but trouble. He was right about one thing; Andra is chatty. And she didn’t want to give up talking to him. She decided to switch gears. 

“Hey Ghost.” Andra grinned to herself. 

“Hmm.” 

“Don’t challenge Death to a pillow fight. Unless you’re prepared for the reaper cushions.” 

Ghost froze in place, his eyes flickered to her. “Not bad.” 

“Your turn.” She encouraged. 

He took a second to think of one. “What do you call a dog with no legs? Doesn’t matter, he won’t come anyway.” 

Andra peered over her shoulders. “Don’t let Sammy hear that one.” Ghost chuffed a laugh. “My favorite Disney movie is the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I love a hero with a twisted back story.” 

That one managed to get a snicker out of Ghost. This dork likes puns. 

“What did Kermit the Frog say at his puppeteer’s funeral? Not a word.” 

He’s morbid, and it’s great. 

“Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.” 

There was a beat of a pause. “That was bad.” 

“C’mon, it was good.” She laughed. 

“I have bad puns, but that one was awful.” 

The lacerating pain hit her hot and fast. “Fuck!” The whipping sound of the wire sprung against the wall, make it stop in its tracks.

Ghost immediately shot up onto his feet, flying over the short distance she was away from him along with Sammy galloping over in concern for her momma.  He saw the blood saturating her jeans as well as the gash that was oozing beneath the torn denim. “Let’s get you inside.” Ghost had linked his arms underneath her shoulders and hoisted her with ease, earning a growl of pain from her. “I got you, we’ll take it slow. Do you have a first floor bathroom?”

Andra threw an arm over his shoulder as he guided her to the house, giving him directions for the bathroom he led her to. Sammy stayed behind them the entire time, whining and panting as if feeling helpless. Andra coaxed her companion with reassuring words in hopes to calm her down. She was hissing and groaning the entire way there, and her attempts of trying to focus on anything else but the pain failed her, until a smell hit her. Was that cardamom? It filled her lungs as she took a deep breath, trying to disguise it as a inhale to calm her down. Technically, it did the job because wholly Gods, he smelled like a comfort she never had.

He swung open the front door, carrying most of her weight. Hell, he could easily carry all of her weight if he really wanted to. “Is there a first aid kit in here?” Ghost asked while he eased her down on the lip of the bathtub. Sammy laid by the bathroom door, watching Ghost closely to make sure he's taking care of Andra.

“Yeah, below the sink,” she whined. He didn’t waste any time finding it. “God, today really stuck it to me.”

“Bad things come in three, isn’t that the saying?” Ghost quipped, earning a snort from her. “If the broken pen is the first and Ted was the second, this one must be the third.” He slid off his gloves and ran his hands through soap and water in the basin. “Can you pull up that pant leg?”

Andra tried, but it had her wincing from the flashes of pain. “Nope, that’s not gonna work.” Ghost returned, his fingers tugged at the zipper of the first aid kid before kneeling in front of her. “There’s a pair of scissors in that bag, I don’t care about losing a pair of jeans-” His damp hands settled her leg between his thighs to stabilize it, and with hardly any effort at all he tore the denim wide open. Christ alive. “Or you can do that.”

“Let’s get this cleaned up and wrapped.” Ghost abandoned her leg to swiftly rummage for the necessary supplies. Antiseptic, gauze, and self-adhesive bandage. With everything lined up beside him, Ghost gripped the back of her leg, right onto her tensed up calf and gently moved it. She could feel the tremor in his hand. “It’s not deep, you won’t need stitches.”

Andra sighs in relief, followed by a yelp when an antiseptic-doused washcloth was applied onto the wound. His sorry was quiet and short, if she heard it. A deep focus washed over her from the sight of Ghost knelt before her, caressing her leg while the other hand cleaned her off. The pain suddenly didn’t feel as bad as before, now when his touch became her entire focus. His thumb was tracing little circles into her flesh, just barely.

He must have noticed how still and quiet Andra went. His Autumn brown eyes looked up to her, devoid of distance. His stare had its own gravitational pull, sucking her in. Christ, am I really getting this worked up? It made her feel like she knocked back two fingers worth of whiskey, her legs turning to jelly and her brain now fuzzy.

“Is that okay?”

A breath caught itself in her throat. She’s never heard him whisper like that before. A head nod was all she could manage. Ghost returned back to her wound, and she’s so thankful for it. Suddenly, the ceiling got much more interesting to look at. But that scent floated near her nostrils once more; that was definitely cardamom and something else she couldn’t place. Something soothing, something that made his musk smell… delectable. Her cheeks were red hot from the thought, the need, to press her face into his shirt, the neckline of his balaclava, anything, to sear that scent into her mind.

The cloth of the gauze patch stuck to the fleshy bit of her knee, and she’s startled by the rip of the self-adhesive bandage.

“Done.”

Andra braves a glance at her knee, flexing it slightly to test the hold of Ghost’s handiwork. Of course, he would know how to patch her up in a pinch, and she tries not to think about how many of his brothers in arms he had to do this – and much worse – for.

Further down, sitting on the tops of his thigh was a trembling hand, the other one continued its soft ministrations on her calf. It’s like it was for his own comfort rather than hers. Regardless, she could melt from the soothing sensation it brought her. She was scared of doing something that would make him pull away, but as if he read her mind, Ghost did it anyway.

“Thank you.” Andra warbles sheepishly. “I get to keep the limb because of you.”

Ghost let out a chuckle, his shoulders releasing some trapped tension there. “I’ll finish up out there.” He stood up, and offered Andra a hand to help her get to the living room couch, leaving there with a tornado wrecking every thought about what had happened.

Idiot idiot idiot.

Ghost was just helping her, Andra drilled in her head. It didn’t mean anything the way he touched her, right? Or the way he spoke, the words cutting through her like soft butter. Or the look he gave her. She’s delusional, right? Andra rubbed a hand over her face, desperately wishing she had a bottle of wine in the kitchen.

The hour she spent sitting there chewing her nails and petting Sammy felt like a death sentence. She could catch glimpses of Ghost through the screen door. Every now and then he would shake his head at himself. Her heart sank to her stomach. Maybe he was frustrated with having to help her out today. For having to possibly take time out of a work day to deal with her bullshit. And then that whole thing with bringing up his family…

Stupid stupid stupid.

Andra was so deep in her head, she didn’t realize Ghost had come back inside until the screen door smacked the doorway behind him. “Everything’s solid now.”

She braved a gentle grin. “Thank you Ghost. I meant it earlier, you’re always coming to my rescue and I don’t take that for granted.”

He gave her a terse nod as he pushed open the screen door, his hand resting on the top of the threshold. “Try not to need any more savin’ for a while, hmm?”

Andra couldn’t hold back a smile. “I’ll do my best.”

-----

The truck will be ready tomorrow. 

Tomorrow is today. Andra looked over Ghost’s text again as if there’s a hidden, underlying message in his words. She chews at the innards of her cheek, tapping a foot on her tile floors. It was one of the first messages Andra has received from him that was more than one word. He had checked in several days after he repaired the pen at least, but after giving Andra a short ‘Good’, radio silence. 

She didn’t bother asking Johnny about Ghost. If she was someone that Ghost didn’t want to keep in contact with, fair enough. She’s felt like an enormous burden for the both of them since Ghost found her on the side of the road. Besides, Sunday mornings were already busy enough with Johnny accumulating a harem of regular customers. It was great for business, replenishing the crater that the transmission fix left in her savings. She was preparing for the plummet that was going to follow when the ladies realize Johnny wasn’t returning. 

As well as preparing for the possibility that both of them might go back to being strangers. They never crossed paths before, or at least she doesn’t recall ever seeing a masked man and his mohawked companion in public. 

Andra sighed as she tucked her phone into her back pocket, reaching for her coffee mug on the kitchen counter she leaned against. Maybe she overthought the moment he spent patching up her wound. It left a pink scar slashing across her knee, trailing down her shin. No, stop the gaslighting. His hands definitely lingered on her for longer than anyone should have. She wished he had stayed longer, wished he had done more. 

“Hellooo?” Johnny’s voice carried through the entrance. Andra was used to him coming in when the front door is left open, yet she was jolted back to reality once her inner monologue was interrupted. He offered to come get her before going in for his own shift. Still extremely reluctant to accept gas money for the miles he had put into travelling back and forth. 

“In here,” Andra called out as she finished the rest of her coffee, rinsing out the mug and leaving it to sit in the basin.  

Johnny couldn’t stop talking about some girl that worked at the fish and chip shop he frequents on lunch breaks as they drove to the shop. “You think it means something if she goes outta her way t’ring us up? I mean, sometimes she’ll be in the back and will take over when she hears me.” 

Andra scoffs. “How more obvious does she have to be?” 

He clicks his tongue. “I just don’ wanna make it awkward if there’s nothin’ there.” 

“Don’t be a dick about it, then there won’t be anything to worry about.” Andra got the feeling that Johnny didn’t have the best track record with women. Hence why he was so clueless about this one. 

The two of them walked into the shop jabbing jokes at each other when Andra saw Ghost behind the counter, leaning into his fist as he looked down at an open book. He was sporting the same navy button up shirt with the shop’s logo embroidered above the left breast pocket, the sleeves rolled up to his biceps to reveal his tattoos and smudges of car grime. She could see a tension shift in his shoulders, like he was fighting the urge to look up at her. Okay…? Johnny tapped a fist on Ghost’s shoulder and continued to breeze past him, walking through a door that led to the depot. Andra approached the counter with a frigid apprehension, tapping her fingertips against the surface. “Hey, is now a good time to pick up my truck?” 

“Aye.” Ghost kept his focus on the ledger he was working on, then turned away without a glance to file through a cabinet to search for her invoice. One-worded answers again. 

She let a few seconds of suffocating silence pass before trying again. “The breeder I had bought my chickens from hit me up to let me know she’s got a goat that’s going to give birth soon. I was thinking about taking the kid off of her hands.” More flitting of paper. “I’ll have to expand and build another pen once I can bring it home.” 

“Hmm.” Was all Ghost gave her. A mere acknowledging hum if that. He retrieved a paper with a small zip-lock bag containing her key, stapled to it and returned it to the counter. “Sign this to indicate that we released your vehicle back to ye, if you want, we can inspect the truck really quick to see if everything is in order.” 

His cold attitude and lifeless voice was a punch in the gut. “Did I do something wrong?” No response, just a hand picking up a pen from a worn out metal cup followed by a slide of the pen across the counter. Her expression hardened, and she scribbled a half-assed signature before shoving the pen down. “No, an inspection isn’t necessary. Okay, so I definitely misread the whole interaction in the bathroom then. Not only did she misread it, but the whole thing was also in a different language. Now this passive-aggressive stand-off was Ghost’s way of interpreting it for her. Message received, loud and clear.

-----

If you're enjoying this story, any engagement is appreciated 🖤

[pastriibunz]

have i ever told you all how wild i think it is that Kai has a fandom?

like, the fact that people are consuming my writing and enjoying it and INVESTING themselves in the story?

thats so fucking amazing to me

kai as a concept started when i was around 9, when i listened to my first batim fansong, “gospel of dismay” by DAGames. i attached to the bendy character so much, i created this character that acted as his daughter like the cringe little freak i was.

around the same time, i had listened to “why did i say okie-doki?” by the stupendium, and attached to the monika character in the same way.

as i grew, kai grew with me. her story slowly became an amalgamation of fandoms i enjoyed, all set in the town of unington (which i stole from “peggy suave”, a music series uploaded to youtube by sim gretina). there wasnt really an overarching plot, some angst scattered here and there, but in my head, it was a semi-episodic series that revolved around Kai and her friends, and her adventures as ‘the savior of the multiverse’.

it wasn’t till i started writing ‘showstopper’, a bnha x oc fic, and uploading it to wattpad in 2021 before i started seeing intrigue for kai and her story.

before that, kai only existed as comics in my sketchbook that i showed to friends, or nobody at all. i was into mha, and i didn’t like the insert character’s personality in most x readers, so i decided to write my own. with kai.

people loved kai. i had consistent readers, commenters, and as of now, it sits at 7.5K reads. people felt for her, kinned her, and slandered any characters who didn’t like her.

eventually, my interests faded. and showstopper remains unfinished.

other than showstopper, Kai still didn’t really have a bunch of deep lore. she still was her little fandom amalgam, with her bits of angst.

but that all changed when Hatchetfield came into the mix.

in mid 2023, early 2024, @local-soda-can (and @chillibeanos somewhat) introduced me to the starkid original musical, ‘the guy who didn’t like musicals’. they loved it, and so did chilli, as they had been doing some oc insert stuff with it (btw, go check them out, their character Bean Sprout is so awesome!,).

I, however, wasnt too keen on watching.

I’m a very hard person to get to watch anything with an hour+ runtime. longer time commitments spook me, and with TGWDLM being over an hour, i wasn’t planning on watching.

until we had a sleepover, and i did.

and i fell in LOVE.

immediately, i had me and fizz start rping through The ‘Kai’ Who Didn’t Like Musicals, as i dubbed it.

the rp finished on September 14, 2023 and that was that.

that was all TKWDLM was supposed to be.

that was all Kai In Hatchetfield was supposed to be.

a series of RPs with a friend.

that was, until, one fateful wednesday, September 20th, 2023, i was watching TGWDLM after school.

earlier, i had the RTC script printed out to read, and i had thought: ‘man. i wish i had the script for this show.’

and then i thought, ‘wait, i have a laptop! what if i just typed out/downloaded the script?’

and as i sat there, on my laptop, i had another thought.

‘Wait, i have the rp, that’s practically all in script format, it has almost all the parts, what if i just turned it into an actual script?’

and thus began a two month long journey of transcribing the musical/rp into a script.

when i uploaded TKWDLM to tumblr on November 27 of that year, i honestly wasn’t expecting people to actually read it.

of course, i had hoped people would!

but honestly, she was 130 pages, she was kinda cringe, and she was honestly just meant for me.

I did NOT expect fans.

I did not expect people like @androgynous-sack-of-flesh-3 (hi there!) to go through my blog, scrounging for every last drop of Kai I made

I did not expect people to invest themselves into Kai’s story, and cry at her death during the ending.

Most of all, I did not expect people wanting more.

The Kai in Hatchetfield series was supposed to end at TKWDLM. I wasn’t planning on transcribing the nmt rps I did with my friends. I wasn’t planning on doing more scripts.

Until one anon in my inbox made the brilliant pun:

‘Nightmare Kai-me.’

With that post, I uploaded a poll asking if people wanted to see an actual NMK series.

And to my surprise, people did.

And thus, I started writing.

And that was a catalyst.

From there, I have gained so many followers, so many fans, all wanting more of Kai.

I have people like @raspberrysmoon (hi pooks :3) theorizing about the overarching lore of nmk, and even writing their own fanfic series revolving Kai (shoutout to sotbaw!).

I have people invested.

I have people who want more.

And that is so shocking to me.

I never expected my silly little story to reach so many people.

I never expected people to be touched by it.

I never expected to make people feel.

And, honestly?

I can’t help but say thank you.

You all are the reason I keep writing.

You all are the reason I keep publishing Kai’s story.

Without you, there would be no nmk. There would be nothing more than a script sitting in my google docs, one that I’d eventually forget about.

All I can say is thank you.

Thank you for giving me a space to share my writing.

Thank you for giving Kai a chance.

Thank you for giving me a chance

Thank you for making a silly little 9 year old girl’s dreams come true.

Thank you all so much.

I can’t wait to see where Kai goes next :]

[the-fandom-nerds]

My orange side dreams (I've had 4)

A description of my multiple orange side dreams and some of my commentary on them.

The first one

I had this dream back in 2022. Logan was sitting in a closet looking into a mirror. But his reflection wasnt himself, it was Thomas with a scraggly beard, dirty grey hoodie, messy hair, etc. Logan was talking to him about backing off, the reflection was mocking him, and all of a sudden the reflection reaches out and pulls Logan into the mirror. He starts laughing evilly and takes on Logan's appearance, walking out of the mirror and out of the closet. The dream changes to me scrolling through the comment sections of youtube trying to look for theories about this video, when i find in the description for the video theres a single name: Julius.

What I find super funny about this dream was that, the original appearance is super similar to an old dark side OC I had before Remus was introduced. He represented procrastination.

The name Julius is also funny because I'm fairly certain my subconscious took it from the drink "orange Julius"

Also lmao me predicting Thomas having facial hair is wild, God damn 2022 Dazey.

The second one

Previously posted elsewhere on my tumblr, I'm basically copying and pasting the post here.

I had a dream that Thomas posted a sander sides video featuring Janus, Remus, and the orange side. The orange side had no defined appearance, he was constantly switching between looking like Patton, Virgil, and Logan.

Janus and Remus didn't like him. The orange side did things in the video that actually made REMUS feel disgusted. I wont describe how (info in the replies of the original post), but he was able to completely shut down other sides. He picked them off one by one and made them faint, disappear, etc...

You could tell by the end of the episode Janus was majorly unhappy but before he could do anything, the orange side rendered him unconscious and Thomas was left alone with him. The episode ended with the orange side laughing as the screen faded to black. The endcard featured Thomas announcing the next episode would come out in 2 years :) (ouch, the accuracy still hurts a bit)

The third one (short and sweet)

Orange side had this ability to influence other sides, like a temporary possession. He wore glasses, which let me tell you, I don't see many orange sides interpretations with glasses so this was just wild.

Despite the fact I know he wore glasses, he also didn't have a set appearance, like he was invisible. Similar to dream 2, he was constantly changing how he looked through this possession concept I brought up.

He was influencing Logan to lash out a lot. Weird huh *gestures vaguely to my complicated feelings to the wrath theory*

Different dream again, the final one

The orange side adopted the appearance and actions of my personal theory for what the orange side should be. Those who have read my orange side theories will already know what im about to say: He represented ignorance, his dark side animal was a bird (some sort of falcon or hawk), his name was Icarus. The entire dream (read: episode) was more or less about how the others fucking suck when it comes to addressing their issues. It felt like they were going in circles. Why did they have to constantly fight?

I've seen the arguments against my particular ignorance theory, saying it's basically just lying to yourself and we can't have two Deceits. But ignorance is more than just 'turning a blind eye.' It's purposefully ignoring new nformation to stay in a comfortable and familiar idea space. Most of the dream works from the angle of Logan not being listened to. The other sides ignorance is what makes Logan angry.

This means nothing but I feel like sharing. In this dream I got to meet Thomas and I asked him "so, Is the orange sides name icarus?" And he looked personally so offended that I guessed it.

[katyspersonal]

😨 🤥 🕷️ 🌌 about your oc Geranea :з

Thank you for asking about her!! I still really need to draw a proper reference of her hunting outfit and weapon, but for now 80% of my WIPs are visual references and it is slowly destroying me т.т

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

😨 FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into "flight" or "fight"?

'Fight' reaction is her default! If this is some kind of a wild predator animal (or, a dangerous beast, more appropriately to the context), she will fight without a second of hesitation, and very furiously so! It would apply to dangerous people too, like someone trying to rob or attack. She is that kind of person whose body just "knows" how to fight the exact second there is a reason to. If the threat IS too much for her to take on however, she also soon measures it and knows to run.

It applies in less drastic contexts, too, like someone making her scared or anxious in simply conversations. She defaults to scolding a person that alerted her, angrily, blushing and with her fists balled, and if she realises she picked a dangerous opponent in a conflict (like, say, starting a quarrel with people like Brador or Alfred) she will retreat. It is like a second nature, sensing whether default to fight or make an exception and fight. She has good "instincts"!

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

Geranea is an okay liar when not a lot is at the stake, she could tell a small lie to keep someone's secret or get them out of trouble but would not lie for a personal gain. But when she got sent into Research Hall she had to lie, a lot. She needed to swipe various tools to help herself and others, avoid various chemicals and procedures, even help the patients that still could be saved...

Her face is not the most emotive (I swear her only expressions are 'tired' or 'angry' xD), but it is her body language that gives her lying away. When the cost of her lie being found out is high she blushes up to her very ear tips, hods hands in fists and overall looks stiff and tense. And, well, you don't want to attract unnecessary attention of cunts like Micolash or Brador of all people.... Since this is so inconvenient, Geranea tricks her own body by 'omitting' rather than straight up lying; comforting herself with how she technically says the truth actually helps her to relax and no longer look suspicious!

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

She has quite generic fears of heights and the dark that not even much more horrifying Yharnam experiences weeded out! She will also dwell quite strongly if she had near-death experience recently (like for example someone's weapon JUST missing her head). The fear of ghosts, however, became a thing of the past after she had to fight several! Previously, they were the exception of her 'fight' reaction, the girl was screaming and running away! I guess it is too bad that she can't punch the height or the darkness in the face, then. xD

After leaving Research Hall by herself at last, her biggest fear became being found and returned to it. She still saw nightmares about it even since Research Hall, from her knowledge, got shut down and retooled into an "Orphanage". Even with her kindness, she tries to 'not think too hard' about the fact that most likely they experiment on children now, only to not deal with feeling like returning there and saving whoever she could is her duty.

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Damn, the story of her appearing is actually such a good memory for me, oh my god! I first thought of her back in Summer 2021! Remember how I told that sometimes I am sitting and minding my own business but random memories about Bloodborne lore bits simply 'appear' in my brain, like if I caught a radio frequency? Well, one day, my brain randomly grasped at the link of "hmmm, Valtr's helmet is missing one eye, he curses "freakish slugs and mad doctors", Yamamura was spyoning on dark Healing Church business as he is a summon for Living Failures, Valtr helps fighting Laurence and Ludwig.... I need to check whether Eye Pendant looks like an eye, ONE SECOND-"

So yeah! I also was and still am 'Valtr has both eyes as we are allowed to see' truther but back then it looked like canon rather than just one of the interpretations for me, so that sorta helped x) I decided whoever owned the Iron Helm previously was missing an eye, for the reason of Research Hall taking it, sought Valtr's help (as a cop??? xD) with their shady business and was significant enough in Valtr's life to make her associated item a symbol of League's mission!

.....and this was just me trying to look like I was super planned from the start lol. x) BEFORE this tangent, I already fell for guilty pleasure of wanting to make an OC deceased member of the League, just ask @val-of-the-north! I loved the concept of her dealing primarily with plant-like "filth", since flowers and alike in Bloodborne are a symbol of reaching for the skies for salvation and many corpses, especially in Hunter's Nightmare and Dungeons, sprout mold or flowers from their bodies. They grow from blood, everyone's blood has human dregs, blablablabla.

But after the Research Hall idea I soon decided to combine the characters into one! Again, back then, existence of previous Iron Helm owner felt extremely apparent for me, I was a sweet summer child (literal summer lol) yet to learn just HOW few things in Bloodborne are indisputable :/ And I wanted to breathe life in an "mentioned character" (in Iron Helm description) more than I wanted an OC, at least back then! ...then I screwed myself over with the idea that maybe this helmet is Djura's wielder helmet (it even misses the same eye!), and THEN I screwed myself over more thinking that maybe two-eyed Valtr we see is a snapshot by "Flora of the Moon and the Hunt" of his most efficient stage of life. And THEN Val had to battle me on still keeping Geranea because I deserved one (1) break from fiddling with "the most reasonable" theory instead of just taking it easy fdhfhds

She also was a she from the very start because I just like female characters, but initially her hair was black. I always associated her with cyan/aqua color though, especially darker tones. I guess dark red hair felt like a good contrast in the end!

Thank you for letting me talk about Geranea!

[goldtheostrich]

Current Fandoms and Stuff I like! (will update often)

(Most favorite ones are Sailor Moon and Ojamajo Doremi, but the rest are a fight for second place! >:3)

Ed Edd N Eddy

South Park

Digital Circus

Murder Drones

BFDI/BFDIA/BFB/TPOT yeeessss

Leo (2023) most recent fandom go watch it pls

Regular show

Sailor Moon

Ojamajo Doremi

Precure

The Amazing World of Gumball

MHA

Cute High Earth Defense Club

Catscratch

Bluey

Marvel stuff (hehe)

Dragon Ball

Demon Slayer

Spooky Month

One Piece

Naruto

PPGZ and PPG

Canimals

Jewelpet

Pripara

Cardcaptor Sakura

Tokyo Mew Mew

Housebroken

Princess Tutu

All of Aphmau’s series! :>

Percy Jackson

Warrior Cats

Aristocats

Oliver and Company

Proud Family

Peanuts

Adventure Time

Lucky Star

Talking Tom and Friends

FHFIF

The Owl House

Gravity Falls

Whatever Happened to Robot Jones

Steven Universe

101 Dalmatians the Series

1O1 Dalmatian Street

Animal Jam (Play Wild and OG)

Roblox

Genshin Impact

Canimals

The Amazing Digital Circus

Bitlife

Sims 4

Dungeons & Dragons

The Simpsons

12. oz Mouse

(still fairly new to some of these, so yeahhhh)

Now time to explain the rules in this blog and some stuff about me!

-fav animal is seals bc they so silly, also one my most fav youtubers, leamon puppy has her main as a seal, think that’s where I first started loving seals so much but idk XDDD

-I absolutely love vintage vids, just something so interesting about them to me! I love animes from the 90s-2010s most, but my most FAVORITE anime genre is magical girls!

-My first magical series was probably Glitter Force (SMILE PRECURE DUB YALL), but then Sailor Moon caught my eye and it is one my favs to this day! I finished Tokyo Mew Mew first though!

-Fav character is Pop Harukaze! She doesn’t get much of a role in Ojamajo Doremi as a Ojamajo, but something about her personality or something.. I am just living for it!

-Some other favs.. and yes I have a long list bc my autistic brain can’t choose favorites when they are so unique.. are Tsubomi/Cure Blossom, Komugi/Cure Wonderful, Gelatin (BFDI+), Flower (BFDI+), Two (BFB), Firey (BFDI+), X (BFB), (Teardrop (BFDI+), Four (BFB), Aiko (Ojamajo Doremi), Onpu (Ojamajo Doremi), Chibi Chibi/Sailor Chibi Chibi, Saki/Cure Bloom, Minako/Sailor Venus, Erika/Cure Marine, Nagisa/Cure Black, Bu-Ling/Mew Pudding, Yayoi/Cure Peace, Love/Cure Peach, Hana-chan (Ojamajo Doremi), Pollun/Porun (Precure), Jewlulu (Pripara), Tweek (you know what), Oz (Canimals), Muffin (Bluey), Zane (Mystreet/Aphmau), Garroth (Mystreet/Aphmau), Kim (Mystreet/Aphmau), Ian (Mystreet/Aphmau) and Noi (MID/Aphmau)!

-Fav color is lavender and pastel yellow

-Im scatterbrained at times, but can try remembering anything you say! Im clumsy and shy! <3

-“Do you have games on your phone” YES BUT LEAVE THEM IF ITS MY PHONE OR IPAD XDDD, especially my dear Animal Jam >:3

-I don’t really prefer to talk on email or text.. just tell me something on here or a social media platform like Youtube or Deviantart! I still use Gold the Ostrich as the user!

-Fav thing to say is “HOR HOR HOR HOR HOR” all i freaking know about fnaf is the movie with unnecessary add on lore 💀

-I don’t mind cussing, it’s just not a full on “lifestyle” for me

Now some rules! <3

-Everyone is allowed on my blog, it is mostly a tickle/random blog, but it’s quite decent so far!

-If you dislike this blog, please don’t say unnecessary stuff in your blogs, posts in any other media, etc if so. Just try ignoring this blog if possible.

-I can do commissions, especially of the following fandoms, but pls don’t get too upset if I don’t know a certain fandom, sometimes I forget to add a fandom to here.

- I am a minor, 13 in fact! So no sussy requests pleaseeee!! any other tickle requests are okay, even from fandoms I dont know, or your ocs! pls dont be mad if I don’t want to do your request! I will do anything that is sfw and accept lgbtq+ characters aswell!

-Might update this later, but this is good for now! Also this might stay as my only blog due to having no other ideas for blogs at the moment

[jinxed-sinner]

Alright here's my full (possibly hot) take on redesigning Hazbin Hotel characters and making a video showcasing those redesigns while you criticize the official designs.

First and foremost, you are redesigning someone else's OCs. Hazbin Hotel is, in essence, a passion project for Viv. How she talks about it makes that incredibly clear to me. The only difference between Hazbin Hotel and, for example, the story I'm developing surrounding some of my D&D OCs is that Hazbin Hotel got picked up by a streaming service and is significantly more popular than most passsion projects get.

Personally if someone wanted to redesign my D&D OCs, I wouldn't mind it, in fact I'd probably think it was really cool that someone would want to redesign one of my OCs to be closer to their tastes in terms of what they like to draw. I would, however, be made incredibly uncomfortable if someone made a video redesigning them where they also pointed out everything they thought was wrong with the designs. I didn't design these specific D&D characters to be 1-to-1 accurate to their classes in D&D or to look professionally designed. I designed them how I wanted them to look for the story I'm telling because I don't plan to ever play them in a campaign. The main character Avlan is a paladin, and I can acknowledge that his design might not look exactly like a paladin. One of the tabaxi in the story (Ice) is a bard and the other (Spark) is a ranger, and I acknowledge that their classes might not come across well in their designs. The single tiefling I've designed for this story (Tragedy) is a cleric but might not come off as one in their design. But I specifically designed them to be easy for me to draw because I want to be able to tell this story through my art. Having someone say "oh, Avlan's armor isn't paladin enough!" or "Avlan's fur colors and patterns should be closer to a wild rabbit's because harengon shouldn't be based on domestic rabbit colors!" would fucking hurt (especially because I'm so attached to Avlan, but it would hurt just as much if similar comments were made about Ice, Spark, or Tragedy). I am so passionate about these characters and being told their designs are bad or wrong in some way would be like a stab in the heart, and it would still feel like a stab in the heart if this story ever got a massive fandom behind it. Giving Avlan more complex armor because you think it'd look cool or just want to see what it'd look like? Sure, if I could draw more complex armor I'd give him more complex armor too. Giving him more complex armor but also shitting on the armor I decide to draw him with? My motivation to draw him in his armor, potentially draw him period, would be dead for WEEKS.

Why is it suddenly okay just because someone's passion project was picked up by Amazon Prime? Why is it suddenly okay to be "fixing" someone's character designs just because the project has a much bigger budget than most artists get and is on a popular streaming service? It's not. I don't care if you're a professional character designer, or think a specific character would look better with certain traits, or just don't like the character designs.

Hazbin Hotel is still Vivienne Medrano's passion project, and redesigning her characters and making videos talking about everything you think is "wrong" with them is, honestly, disgusting. You can make videos explaining your choices in your redesigns without putting down the designs that already exist, whether you like them or not. Me thinking Lucifer looks better with his tail not restricted to his full demon form doesn't suddenly mean I don't like his official design, because I fucking love it. If you wouldn't do it to an artist whose passion project is just a webcomic here on Tumblr, don't fucking do it to an artist whose passion project got picked up for a cartoon by a big streaming service (or any company for that matter).

[sharky857]

Even more random facts that couldn't make it into the profile page(s):

Viola is single and prefers it that way.

Given her newfound "weaknesses" concerning noise and light, a couple of modifications had been made to her suit, so to include noise-filtering pads and photochromic lenses.

Viola's fear response if not "flight" nor "fight", it's a third thing called "fright".

Due to her overall quiet demeanour, it would take Viola quite a lot of pressure to hear her break into any sort of Italian swearing.

Despite her anxiety, the job Viola tried to keep was in a customer support call center. She worked there until the company moved onto a more exploitable profitable location.

Viola's been on a wild goose chase job hunting since then. However, while "officially unemployed", she actually has a few side gigs to make ends meet.

It was Giovanni's idea to have "La Donna Ragno" make some public appearances, so that Viola could have a more decent source of income while forever-waiting for a steady job that may never come. It also took quite a lot of convincing.

Although it may hurt her Italian soul from within, Viola tries her best to ignore how some people would "ruin" some dishes. "Well... You're the one eating that abomination, not me" she would say.

Her actual pet-peeve would be people making a completely different dish and calling it what it is clearly not. She is still trying to recover from witnessing to a "traditional carbonara sauce" being made with fresh cream, green peas and bacon.

Viola wouldn't call Miles "the original anomaly". She would define him as either "a living paradox" or more simply "a victim of circumstance". The only "actual anomaly" in her book would be the Spot himself, given that himself and Dr. Octavius have been the ones to open the portal that got the itsy bitsy spider from Earth 42 all the way to Earth 1610 in the first place. She would also keep the thought to herself, given the very short fuse of some "ninja-vampire spider-man".

Even on Earth 80039 there is an experimental collider, but somehow it got spared by the Spot out of sheer coincidence. The guy kept jumping dimensions looking specifically for "AlcheMax", while a similar institute is actually named "GEN-EVO" in Viola's universe.

"GEN-EVO" is a recall to the real-life city of Geneva in Switzerland, where the CERN institute is located, along with some collider.

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

Guess who has fallen and can't get up? :°D

For real, tho; it all started with a "let's give this ATVS movie a shot, since everyone's been praising it that much". Then I was roaming several tag sections to hoard fan arts like a gremlin, and also seeing people coming up with their own Spidersona/OCs. Next thing I knew, my brain poked me and whispered "you know what would be a fun past time? :)" and immediately sucked me into the "make-an-oc" spiraling hellpit.

And of course, being totally unable to draw a single thing myself, I bribed commissioned @d-structive to draw the new bean. Yes, all three drawings up there have been made by her, following the references I pulled using dress up games like X-Girl and Chibi Maker 1.1 as "guidelines".

And now, for the usual credits & stuff:

full + half body & chibi pics made by @d-structive

pose reference(s) by @adorkastock

background brushes by Obsidian Dawn

general clothing references from X-Girl and Chibi Maker 1.1