#I'm rambling haha but yes.

[magnusbae]

One last visualization:

None of this is tumblr algorithm, all of this is user interaction!

Your reblogs have an astonishing power! This shows it better than any fandom curated post could have. Almost all of the reblogs come from my own reblog to my post. What it means, is that there's no tags, no algorithm, no search engine—only the people who reblogged from me, and the people who reblogged from them, and so forth!

I found reblog chains as deep as 40 reblogs deep! The amount of reblogs coming from OP is barely 1% of all the reblogs. (0.8997660608% to be precise, as I am precise). The majority of those reblog chains are 1-2 reblogs from a blog, that lead down the line to really big blogs, also.

P.S. I appreciate the thoughts and input so many of you added and I'm incredibly happy that you guys saw this post as positive and welcoming, as I too absolutely hate guilt trips!

To illustrate this post by @mayahawkse I would like to visualize to you the difference:

A post in 2023:

A post in 2014:

A zoom out of the same post:

This is what a community looks like.

See how in 2023 almost all of the reblogs come from the OP, from their few hours/days in the tag search. Meanwhile in 2014 the % of reblogs from OP is insignificant, because most of the reblogs come from the reblogs within the fandom, within the micro-communities formed there. You didn't need to rely on tags, or search, or being featured. Because the community took care of you, made sure to pass the work between themselves and onto their blog and exposed their followers to it. It kept works alive for years.

It's not JUST the reblog/like ratio that causing this issue, it's the type of interaction people have. They're content with scrolling and liking the search engine, instead of actually having a reblogging relationship with other blogs in their community.

Anyways, if you want to see more content you like, the only true way to make it happen is to reblog it. Likes do not forward content in no way but making OP feel nice. Reblogs on the other hand make content eternal. They make it relevant, they make it exist outside of a fickle tumblr search that hardly works on the best of days.

If you want more of something, reblog it.

[aimasup]

"And by god, did he want to feel special."

Ford's corrected plenty of teachers who wrote the question on the board wrong before, but Ford didn't expect the Muse of Knowledge to even be capable of that, much less to catch it...

Okay now let's be real, besides the chess games, I feel like Bill would've, on rare enough occasions to be special, dangle other wins in front of Ford to really make sure that portal gets completed. Only the best carrots on a stick for his hardworking puppet <3 let's make him feel like an equal to a god for fun

And Bill intended for his home dimension's last atom to be just another carrot, but what happened was Ford brought out a side of him without even trying when no one else in a trillion+ years could

Like he definitely looked back at that moment (when he got so comfortable mid-convo that on a whim, he whipped out his past and gave answers less cryptic than usual) and said 'i planned that! I said all those things to make him more attached to me!'

maybe he's right, who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also don't bother googling those math terms i made them the fuck up

[mblue-art]

You made Killer such a cute little sad boy omg I am screaming. Please hug him or something, or trap him under a content little kitty idk but he needs it.

I love your art, it's so soft, sweet, warm, and cozy. Like marshmallows in warm hot cocoa <3

awe, ur sweet anon, thank u i appreciate this very much <333

belated cuddles from a kibby and his crush!! for the birthday boy! (napping at the coziest corner at ccino's 😎)

<< 🎯

[raycatzdraws]

ribbonwood

[a2zillustration]

The desire to draw these two again but without the motivation to make something more than one of these little charts (oops)

Thank you Valc0 for making the sheet!

[angeart]

hhau mimic arc rambles part III bonus: the eclipse

(~2,8 k words) // other parts & au masterpost here

Every couple of years, there’s a total eclipse in this world. The moon is big, obscuring the sun in a horrible totality, entrapping it for what feels like too long. This is a big event, but not because people are eager to spectate the sky and bask in its weirdness. No, it has much worse connotations.

Because the eclipsed moon affects many of the hybrids. Especially the animal ones.

Hunters look forward to the eclipse because it promises a lot of loud, distressed, instinct-driven hybrids scattering about without many defences. They prepare traps specifically for this occasion and organise big hunting parties, eager for the upcoming bloodbath and bounty.

The eclipse happens mid-winter while Scar and Grian are on the server.

And it’s awful.

[cws violence, murder (no known characters), panic, mind-altering states and a loss of self control, haywire instincts, non-consensual manhandling, horrory vibes]

They don’t really know what is happening at first. Hermitcraft is a safe server which has many things coded differently, and because eclipses hurt many hybrids, they never happen there. So Scar and Grian have never experienced anything like this, and the yank it has on Grian’s state in particular is startingly sharp and terrifyingly confusing.

Scar himself is alright, because—and the two of them don’t know this at the time—vexes are immune to the eclipse. 

Actually, that’s not quite accurate. The eclipse helps heighten their magic.

They thrive.

Grian does anything but thrive.

His instincts go absolutely batshit haywire. He starts getting disoriented and incredibly uneasy, anxiety holding him in a choke hold, and all rationality and caution leave him, replaced by pure fear. 

He starts making inadvertent chirping sounds, panicked, and no matter what Scar says or does, Grian can’t seem to stop.

It’s so dark outside. And Grian’s chirping isn’t the only one that sounds through the forest.

In a world where they thought avians might be all nearly hunted to extinction, there are now suddenly, in this darkness, piercing faraway chirps. Just as panicked and lost-sounding as Grian’s own.

But those are not the only sounds the looming forest has to offer.

There’s also hollering and cheers. Whistles and barks. Twigs snapping under careless boots. Hunter parties following every single hybrid noise right to its source only to slice it shut. Shrill, chilling screams before some hybrid inevitably plunges into absolute, horrifying silence.

Scar’s desperately trying to get Grian to shush. He pleads him to stop, to be quiet. Tries to calm him down.

But it’s all futile. Grian has no control over himself. He can’t make it stop; it’s a wholly new kind of fear, overpowering and unfamiliar, yanking at his instincts. (It feels, a little bit, like a huge moon crashing down while the ground underneath him shakes and disintegrates.) (It feels like locking eyes with someone and not being sure if he’ll ever get to see them again.) (It feels like apocalypse. Like the end.) (His mind screams at him and he can’t help but scream along with it.)

Scar wonders if he should put a hand over Grian’s mouth. He doesn’t know what to do, but the hunters are out there, in large numbers, tireless and eager, and Grian’s voice is now the beacon luring them over, pinging with their exact location.

Grian is slowly backing away, hunched, feathers puffed. His wings are semi-curled around him, no longer tucked under the cloak, even though they’re out in the open. 

He doesn’t seem like he’d do well with being touched.

But Scar needs him to be quiet. For Grian’s sake too.

Before Scar can do anything, though, Grian’s earwings flit wildly and he whips his head to the side, honing in on some noise.

It’s a distressed chirp, one that sounds closer than any of the other ones. 

It’s an avian in distress calling for help.

Grian thought there aren’t any avians but him, and now there is one, still alive, so very close, desperate for aid, and— Grian’s mind blanks. There’s only one single thing to do here. He isn’t thinking. His heart beats wildly in overdrive. His body moves.

Blindly, Grian bolts in the direction of the sound. 

And it’s up to Scar to scramble and run after him. 

It’s more than that. More than just following Grian. Because there is so much at stake, and he needs to stop him and quiet him and— And he might have to exert force, and—

Oh. He is basically hunting Grian down here.

He is the hunter following in the steps of a terrified avian.

And Grian, in his dazed and fragmented perception of the world, feels just like prey. There is so much happening for him right now: it’s dark and all he can see is Scar’s piercing vex eyes when he glances over his shoulder; he’s lost in panicky instincts, trying to reach another avian in distress, hurtling blindly towards potential danger; and he does feel hunted.

On top of that, he can’t stop the stream of bird noises. He can’t pull his wings under his cloak either. He’s stumbling and tripping and scaping himself all over, but he feels like he needs to keep running.

He no longer knows if he’s even heading the right way. The chirping he was following fell dead silent. His head is just screaming at him. Hot white panic and a cacophony of unstoppable, overpowering instincts.

Scar has to stop him before he gets himself killed.

As awful as it is, Scar doesn’t care about that other potential avian (it could be a trap) nearly as much as he cares about Grian. His priorities here are clear, desperation thick and loud in his lungs, pressing at his ribs. There’s no time for bargaining or for steeling himself. 

He needs to act.

Scar grabs Grian and tackles him to the ground.

He’s pinning him down, sort of straddling him, hands on Grian’s mouth, hopelessly trying to muffle the noises. He feels absolutely vile, but he doesn’t know what else to do. His breaths come in little sharp huffs of blue magic, shiny through the darkness as he expels a ton of emotional energy just to keep himself from panicking and crying.

He finds that it’s not as easy to hold Grian down when he doesn’t want to be pinned down. But also it is. It is easy, far too easy—harrowingly so. Grian’s so light. (It frightens Scar to even touch the thought of how simple this would be for the hunters too.) 

He’s terrified of hurting Grian accidentally. He’s very capable of it; Grian’s made of brittle hollow bones after all, and Scar’s grip is a bit too strong, but he doesn’t have a choice here. Grian won’t stop thrashing, fighting to be freed. (But Scar knows that letting go would almost surely result in Grian’s death.)

And where Grian’s attention is kind of selective, not processing things at all, Scar’s attention is sharp—sharpened by panic—keenly attuned to their surroundings. He hears all the various noises come and go. Not necessarily chirps; other hybrids, too. Them falling silent. The hunters yelling. And the screams. God. The awful screams.

They’re all too far away for now, thankfully, but if Grian won’t stop, they’re bound to come this way. After all, if Scar can hear them, surely they can hear Grian too—?

Scar feels nauseous and horribly helpless. The hunters cheer and laugh as the hybrid noises go dead silent, one by one— only the hounds left barking and howling in their wake.

Scar knows that, even though it’s awful, they can’t help any of those hybrids. But he’s going to do everything in his power so that at least the two of them can survive this.

Despite all his (pointless) efforts, the hunters catch up to them anyway.

As they approach, Scar is struggling to quiet Grian down, and Grian isn’t thinking straight enough to properly fight. It’s the worst possible situation. 

There’s no point in quieting Grian down anymore when the hunters are right here though, and so Scar moves on the defensive, ready to give it all to keep Grian alive. The fight is ugly, drenched in frightening desperation; Scar is numb to the pain even when something tears. Grian’s chirps get worse. Warmth drips down Scar’s face.

But then a different sort of howling breaks through Scar’s mounting panic, and—

A group of wild vexes rushes in. Not to save Scar and Grian in particular; it’s just a lucky timing.

Because as it turns out, just the way hunters set off to hunt down hybrids during the eclipse, the vexes—who are more powerful at this time, magic thrumming strongly in their veins—set off to hunt down the hunters. So nicely accumulated for them. So loud. So easy to find. 

The vexes and the humans clash, and in the swell of the chaos, Scar manages to drag Grian away. 

He wants to keep going, increase the distance between them and everyone else as much as possible, but all too soon the forest opens up into fields, and no way he’s pulling a dazed Grian out there where they can’t hide. So instead he swerves, anchoring them against a rock formation—an array of boulders and a jagged cliff wall. 

He presses Grian into a small dent there, covering him with his own body (imprisoning him there, in a way). Hiding Grian’s wings, muffling his chirps, whispering frantic things that are meant to be soothing. The sky is still dark, and Grian’s still chirping, although it’s quieter now; it’s clear he’s exhausting himself, but he’s still making noises. Still unable to stop, despite the terror and the fatigue.

They get found again.

But it’s not the human hunters that find them this time. It’s the vex group, sneaking up on them, all their sharp edges drenched in blood, glowing with magic.

Scar turns his back to Grian, still pressing against him, tucking him against the rocks, hiding him as much as possible. He’s ready to lash out. He’s ready to fight with these vexes, even if he’s outnumbered. (He’s got no species loyalty here, after all.) 

In a curious tone, one of the vexes says: “That avian is going to get you killed.”

The words register to Grian through the haze. He’s still absolutely lost amidst this all, barely understanding the world around him, struggling to process anything. But there’s something about the words avian and get you killed, and the thought of Scar, that makes it through the fog.

It only serves to make him more distressed. He breathes in sharp, shallow breaths, and his chirping grows louder again, high pitched. But it’s not just the chirps this time. Some of the sounds he makes are choked, merging into something more like himself—the sound of helpless sobs.

Scar is shielding Grian with his back, but that means he’s turning his back on Grian’s cries and all of his misery. He cannot comfort him. He has no words that would make Grian not afraid right now.

The vex suggest leaving Grian or—worse—using him as a bait.

Scar’s staring them down, growling lowly, one eye squinted as blood runs down his face. “How about you leave.”

The vex don’t budge. They think they’re after a good thing here, after all. Surely, Scar also wants these hunters dead?

What they’re suggesting isn’t to sacrifice Grian as a bait—they don’t actually want to outright hurt or endanger him, even if it maybe doesn’t translate well through their stance and words. They’re not malicious in that way. What they’re suggesting is simply pragmatic in their minds. (I mean, they wouldn’t grieve if the avian happened to die there, but it wasn’t their goal to let it happen.) 

“We’re hunting the humans,” they note, as if that should’ve been enough to sway Scar. “We could use the avian—”

“No.”

One of the vex, white hair braided and smile sharp, peeks past Scar, trying to glimpse the feathers. The violet shade reflected in the glow of their magic tells him everything he needs to know, sating his curiosity, and he whistles, impressed. Amazed that an avian like this has lasted so long.

Scar lunges at him for getting too close.

He gets laughed at in return. What’s he gonna do, all alone? Not even channelling his magic to heal his own wound. It’s just funny to them. Cute. “What’re you going to do?” they tease, a bit too cheerily for the situation at hand. It rings threatening. “You’re outnumbered, pal.”

Scar doesn’t back down. “I’d take at least one of you down with me.” It’s a big statement. Covering up all of his nauseating fear and unending tension. Because he’ll do it. He’ll fight if he has to, and it will be ugly, and he might fail—he might die—but he’ll for sure give it everything he has.

And he can tell there’s camaraderie between this group of vexes. That they don’t really want any of them seriously hurt. 

They, as vexes, know the best how dangerous a feral, cornered vex with something to protect can be.

There’s a sliver of respect this earns Scar, unbeknownst to him. The will to stand up to them even when he’s outnumbered like this. To not give in to the pressure and instead fight for his values. For what he cares for.

The white haired vex—seemingly a leader of the group of sorts—reiterates, tone a bit lower, that the avian is going to get Scar killed. That he’d be better off without him. (Essentially voicing the deep rooted fear Grian already has.)

He also extends an invitation, almost in the same breath, impressed by Scar standing up to them. But it’s only Scar who is invited, and it’s blatant—the condition laid down is drop the avian or let’s use him as a bait and hunt together. 

With sharp ire and a swell of protectiveness, Scar counters that he’d be better off without them, actually.

There’s a snort and a mocking, “Aight, let’s see how long you can last.”

The relief Scar feels when they relent and leave is immense, leaving him weak in his knees.

He thinks they’re foolish, risking themselves like that. In his mind, they’re the definition of the violent vex, that dark reputation that seems to now stick to Scar and follow him too by the virtue of being the same kind of hybrid. He doesn’t want anything to do with that. 

And of course, he’d never leave Grian.

Grian is his last connection to home. He loves him, even if it never feels like it’s enough.

Excruciatingly slowly, sun eventually peeks back out. But even then, it takes Grian a very long time to untangle himself from these dazed, nonsensical instincts. It’s such a heavy, sticky veil and he’s left disoriented and confused for the longest time. Through his exhaustion, he feels weak and dizzy and out of it.

Scar is also exhausted, but they’re nowhere near safe yet. Still pressed against the rocks. Every nerve ending is flared up, Scar’s senses alert to the point of flinching at the subtlest sound, hypervigilant. But as Grian slumps and quiets down, Scar’s firm grip on him follows. 

Slowly, so slowly, Scar’s hold on Grian becomes comforting instead of restricting and terrifying.

He can tell that it left bruises.

Scar hates everything about it, but— They’re alive.

The sun is back, Grian is quiet, and they’re alive.

But they still need to find safety. And Grian’s so frazzled, still processing what even happened. The blurred memories of chirps and howls and screams swirl through his mind. He feels lightheaded, and like his skull is stuffed full, unable to think clearly. He doesn’t quite understand any of it, and his body feels locked in place. 

Grian wants to stay sitting here until everything starts making sense, but they don’t have that kind of time. They can’t stay. They need to move. They need to properly hide. 

Scar feels awful, but he needs to push through. He needs to force Grian to move.

The snow is splattered with blood. The forest is dead silent, scattered bodies left behind all across it. The area is riddled with traps, some activated and others still hidden, waiting to be triggered. 

The sun is shining.

The silence is eerie.

The scent of blood is thick and fresh and nothing feels safe.

--

Later, when Grian’s more coherent, he says, “They were right.” In an incredibly quiet, fragile, unsteady voice—but laced with determination—he tells Scar: “You should’ve taken their deal.”

Scar immediately tries to dismiss it. Preferably to not engage with this conversation at all. “Not interested.”

Grian registers the shut down of the discussion, but that doesn’t make it any less loud inside of his mind (and heart). He simply goes quiet and withdraws. Lips pursed, lightly frowning, staring somewhere away.

They don’t talk about it again.

Late at night, when Grian can’t sleep because he’s too high strung, he thinks of how it’d feel like, to be used by those vexes as a bait.

He dreams about it.

He dreams of faraway chirps and laughter and hounds finding him.

He has so many nightmares after this.

-------

BONUS screenshot for shits n giggles:

[polaroidcats]

I'm still such a beginner at sewing but I just made my first pillowcase (on my grandma's old, almost 60 year old sewing machine!) and I'm so proud of myself!! It looked really nice and then I messed up the buttons, had to cut out the fabric where I had tried to do the buttons and inserted another piece fabric to fill the gaps where the failed buttons were but still!!! I made an actual usable pillowcase!!! leaning against the pillow as i am typing this, 10/10 experience, pillow is fully covered by fabric!!

[dye-it-rouge-et-noir]

"For particularly important things, it's always more reassuring to write them down like this." - Zhang Beihai

[ID in alt text]

[skyward-floored]

I'm kinda feeling a little eh about the whumptober prompts tbh. Maybe it's because I'm tired lol

[fennthetalkingdog]

I'm just figuring out how important music is in my life! This is coming from a long while trying to cut down on my music use, mostly because I was listening to it so much that it felt more like I couldn't do anything without popping in some earbuds, and partially because of other personal reasons. Some of my routines changed, forcing me to not listen to music while doing certain things, and it ended up becoming that besides working on homework or drawing, I didn't listen to music at all. But I've given myself a break today since I have nothing to do and since, for reasons, I'm feeling just a lil crappy today—and boy, I'm starting to realize again just why I love music!!

I love the diverse music taste I've developed over the years! My family is not only big about music but big about listening to it loud, so the majority of my music taste for most of my life has just been Christian hiphop (Lecrae, KB, Andy Mineo, Trip Lee, and ironically Tonex, whose album where he was struggling hard with his gayness has been my favorite concert movie since I was 5) and gospel music (Kirk Franklin, Tye Tribbett, etc.). And music was one of the few connections between me and my race (I grew up feeling pretty estranged from my blackness as a kid, but the popular songs they played at the YMCA in the 2010s were some of the few things I could use to feel more connected) and between me and my classmates/friends at the Y (I still have fond memories of playing FNAF songs in mat forts and reciting lyrics at pool parties). But I got tired of knowing I could never bond with anyone besides family friends music taste-wise when I was in high school, and so I started listening to secular music on my own time. And that's how I first found Ghost and Pals, a vocaloid artist and one of the first secular music folks I listened to as a kid (can you smell the religious trauma yet? Lol), and that's how I bonded with one of my best friends in early college (ironically, also my first time being publically queer). Now I listen to Kpop, anime songs, songs from warriors MAPs, songs from musicals (Hamilton and In the Heights <3), latin songs, metal songs, and even some secular songs young me would've been too scared to listen to.

And music has always been one of my biggest sources of stimming! I can't dance to save my life, but music will sure get me to flick my fingers and hit my fist against my shoulder furiously. Music was one of the first clues that I like stimming with vibration too (since I love laying against the car door and turning up the music loud enough to feel the world shake around me). And music was one of the first things that made me look into ADHD or autism (specifically, listening to Ghost and Pals songs for a month straight and getting my friend at early college [who also has ADHD] to start looking at me funny when I was discovered doing chores and listening to one of three songs for the fifth time). Music is so cool it'll get me to wax poetically. It was one of the things that kept me together during my roughest times and soothed me during my best. I listen to it while I write, while I cry, while I hang out with my friends and family and while I chill by myself. It's how I relax after a long day, and it's how I feel safe. I feel kinda emotional finally having music hit that spot in me without feeling like I need it to do stuff.

[avemstella]

And I told you one day you will see, that I'll be back I guarantee And that hell's coming, hell's coming Hell, hell's coming with me

- Poor Man's Poison

Egeriaaaaaaaa... I have so many thoughts about u that are probably going to be super wrong, but for the moment I can live in my Delusions of u being a morally... bankrupt questionable queen (also all my Furina headcanons).

though that new egeria lore via fontaine wings does mention her committing sins so I heeeeyyyyyy

[wayfinderships]

Good morning gamers!! Hope you're all doing well! As for me, I'm thinking about this bastard again-

[glitter-andgold]

General Valentina Headcannons (Saw X)

Currently planning the "Valentina lives and becomes an apprentice" AU I've been wanting to write so consider this a precursor to that! (I wasn't kidding when I said I had many headcannons about her so enjoy the ramblings of a mad man <3)

Her full name is Valentina Rosa Hernández

She was 32 years old during the events of Saw X.

This makes her younger than Cecilia & Mateo and older than Diego and Gabriella

Valentina’s birthday is on the 27th of July (thus making her star sign Leo)

Let’s those close to her call her Val for short.

Is still trying to put an exact label on her sexuality but knows for a fact she isn’t straight

Valentina struggles to fully trust and open up to people as she’s been hurt by many throughout her life; she often uses her feisty, sarcastic personality as a shield. Though if you manage to break through this prickly facade, you will find a loyal woman with a lot of love to give.

Valentina loves doing her makeup and is quite the talented makeup artist. It was almost like her pre-work relaxation ritual for the night, doing her makeup while blasting some of her favourite music.

Loves heavy metal and rock music! It was quite rare but when she was able to go to concerts, she’d be in the mosh pit.

As well as having her ears pierced, she’s also got her belly button pierced.

Has a younger half-sister named Carmen who is five years younger than her. Val loves her above all else and is fiercely protective of. Aside from this has no relationship with any of her immediate family.

Growing up it was just Valentina and her father; her mother wasn’t really in the picture. She was really close with her father. However, he passed away when she was 12.

She was then sent to live with her mother, step father and Carmen. Her mother and step-father were cold and neglectful towards her, it was always clear that they didn’t want her there.

 As a result of this she grew into a trouble making teenager.

At first, she was distant from her little sister, envious of the love her mother and step father seemed to give her. However, as the pair grew older Valentina came to realise that the amount of pressure they put on her, even from a young age, was harmful within itself. They didn’t love her, they loved the idea of her and as soon as Carmen strayed from what they wanted she was punished. From that moment onwards Valentina vowed to love and protect her sister.

In fact, she started trying to change her trouble making ways so she could be a better older sister.

Valentina left home the age of 20 after a huge argument with her mother and step-father. The only person she stayed in contact with was Carmen (and she had to fight to stay in contact with her, their mother tried to prevent it but was unsuccessful).

Had little to her name when she left home and ended up couch surfing at friend’s places for a while.

Eventually saves up enough to rent a little place of her own, it was small and little bit rundown but it was hers. Carmen ended up moving in with Valentina after also having a falling out with their parents. Times could be tough but they were happy to have each other.

Valentina always wanted to provide a better life for her sister than what she was able to and this is why Cecilia was able to convince her to join the scam. She promised Valentina a life changing sum of money in exchange for pretending to be a nurse for a couple of days. Valentina had her doubts but at the end of the day, such a large sum of money to pretend to be a nurse for a short period of time??? She’d be a fool not too, after all this was for her sister. And she’d do anything for her sister.

[front-facing-pokemon]

there is an affect to the way you talk in tags that is incredibly charming and endearing. i feel like i would love to sit and listen to you talk about literally whatever for hours?

this is. one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. thank you! i make an effort to talk in a very specific way. i like to think i've curated the way i speak very well over the course of my life to represent a version of me that i want to be. it came with the territory of making an effort to be nicer after having been mean for so long

[nervocat]

I love seeing devil on my dash (I think that's what you'd call it). Like hi man. You're so silly when you yap and reach post limit bc of it <33

[e-adlirez]

Do you have any thea stilton ocs yourself? tell us abt them!

Uuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh *awkwardly stares at my little OC closet*

Okay so two things about me: 1. I am not typically an OC maker, and 2. I thrive better on bouncing ideas off of other things instead of trying to create characters from scratch. Both of these mean that I don't make OCs particularly often, and the ones I do make mostly end up being antagonists or villains (as I find it easier to make a foil to a protagonist than a protagonist that everything will be bouncing off of). Soooooooo with that preface, allow me to show you my tiny, tiny, tiny collection of TS OCs ^^

The first one is a guy who was made for a concept where the girls go to China for a student exchange and have to deal with China's.... cutthroat education system, to say the least. This character was cooked up by me and my friend @starlight-4eva, and the name he's most known by is "Yi", or "one" in Mandarin. (He does have a proper Chinese name, that being Wáng Wěilóng (王伟龍))

Now, Yi is essentially a product of the aspect of the Chinese education system where everyone is publicly ranked so there is a motive to excel (but also to be super-toxic to those in lower ranks). He is extremely cocky, arrogant, and unfortunately very intelligent. He was in the same school as Violet in China, and he competed extremely fiercely with her for the position of top-ranked student in their class (if this sounds like two kids fighting over a video game leaderboard yeah it is, just imagine it in a school setting and the score is their grades). The rivalry is very one-sided but also not really kinda, since Yi is actively trying to mess with her in their competing, while Violet is mostly just trying to survive in school (and by that I mean bringing her A-game to everything). No cheating in exams though-- Yi is way too good for that! Besides, why cheat when you have psychological warfare?

For the longest time, Violet dominated her class's leaderboard with Yi hot on her heels, but the entire time, Yi wasn't bitter. Named "Er" at the time, he knew that all it took for him to take the top spot was a single screw-up. A single mistake. A single millisecond where Violet let her guard down. And it happened.

Violet fell from first rank to second, and he, now taking the rank "Yi", was ruthless in letting her know all about it, giving her the name "Er", which in Chinese means "two", but also has connotations of inadequacy, worthlessness, and lack of intelligence. He never failed to gloat about it, and as a rattled Violet attempted to regain her top rank, Yi was more than happy to watch "Er" struggle and fail, all while holding an iron grip over his new title.

Violet was able to recover from her fall, but she was never able to regain her top rank. Even in her gaokao, the infamous college eligibility exam, she missed the chance to overtake Yi by 0.1% in score. 0.1% too short.

Mouseford was a good place to heal and open herself up to new people with different ideologies, but in this student exchange, some old wounds burst back open as she finds to her horror that she is not only having the exchange in the same school Yi is studying in for university, not only is she in the exact same class as Yi, but Yi is just as arrogant and smug as ever. He is a walking, talking red flag (a male green tea bitch, if you will), and he does everything he does to make Violet as uncomfortable as possible (down to mild sexual harassment. Nothing too crazy, just him being an unfortunately smartass delinquent who constantly says he and Vi are "tied together by Yue Lao's Red Thread of Fate and flirts with her, knowing full well how uncomfortable Violet is with it. Hey, anything to throw her off her game even by just 0.05% of her 100%. A small number like that is enormous in an exam that's worth 33% of their entire grade in a single subject, right?).

(Here's some old doodles I did of him and Violet in 2021, something something I headcanon that Violet is Year of the Steel Dragon while Yi is Year of the Steel Serpent, something something Chinese dragons are unable to fly when injured on the crest of their head according to some site I don't remember rn, something something allegory to how Chinese communities is basically like playing socially political 3D chess constantly)

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The second one is a bit weird, but you're gonna have to hear me out on this one. If you've seen him in my Artfight, then yes, he technically originated from a Thea Sisters fic concept.

Du Yaoguai/DYG is a snake demon (Chinese demon, not Western), and while his Artfight profile says all, I do have to give a little bit of extra context.

He was supposed to be an antagonist in a fic scenario where the girls, in a Seven Roses Unit thing, crash-land into a fantasy world based on mythical China, and because it's not supposed to be kid-friendly and because the Heavenly Court put a "VIP pass, no VIP no entry" sign in front of the world's barrier, outsiders are to either be killed or kicked out as soon as possible, whichever happens first. DYG, being a human-eating snake demon monster, has his eyes on the girls and would like to have them for dinner, and he's willing to use every trick in the book to get them to fall into his trap. Mansplain, manipulate, manwhore, if you simp I'm not stopping you, but my Artfight rules do apply to him even outside of Artfight

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And finally (for now), this is Olovo.

"But E, I can't make heads or tails of this crappy concept sketch!" Oh, I know.

You'll get to know him eventually :]

Anyway that's it byeeee--