#fanby: raze

[fanby-fckry]

Why did nobody tell me that adding “random” spots/stains is very difficult?

I’m changing Raze’s entire wing description so that I can draw the damned things without having them look weird or sacrificing consistency by using a brush and never being able to get it in exactly the same distribution ever again.

[fanby-fckry]

Thanks for the tag, @song-writer-melo-wrath ! <3

I did more than one too, lol. I’m not going to tag anyone in particular, but if this post is on your dash and you want to participate, consider this your invitation to do so! :3

Picrew – @/milqueandtoast

Raze – Love as a Flaw

Cowering, your love hides in the dark. In shadows and under cover of night, your love runs from corner to corner, afraid to linger, afraid to be caught. Afraid, afraid, afraid of everything. When you fall in love, it is with alarm bells ringing. Your love is a mistake, a flaw in the code, a purchase you don’t remember making and desperately want to return. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t want this. It’s a problem–– your problem ––and you would do anything to pass it off, burn it away, scoop it out of you with bare hands, or carved out with hooked knives before it can destroy you. Get it out, just get it out now. You don’t care who you hurt in the process, only that you can’t afford to be hurt first. Being loved by you is to be loved by a figment of the imagination. It is to be loved in halves, or not at all.

I also have some aromantic irony in my choices for this, mainly because I don’t have many OCs that are fleshed out enough to do this with. The feral Fallen aroace OC got ‘Love as a Flaw.’ Yeah, that checks out.

Dual – Love as a Choice

You choose to love. Love does not come to you easily, but every day you wake up and choose it. It would be so easy, wouldn't it, to grow cold and callous and grim. But you rise to greet the world, making the conscious effort to find something, anything to love. When you fall for someone, you do not kid yourself of their flaws. Instead, you resolve to see them for who they are, mistakes and all and you love them all the same. Your love is work, and it does not come easy. Your love sweats and toils. It is calloused and sunburned; it bears scars and comes with stories. Your love is worn, but it is no less valuable for it. Being loved by you is like being loved by a gardener, a mother, a teacher. Your love may not always be the simplest, but it is worth the effort.

Oh-ho-ho, this also checks out in perhaps the worst way possible. No, I will not be elaborating. :)

Also, this is not helping the urge to start shipping Raze and Dual. They’d be such a nightmare for everyone around them (and occasionally for each other). Queerplatonic FWB, but the “benefits” in question are hard kink, keeping each others’ secrets, and murdering each others’ enemies.

Picrew – @/wervty

Eve – Love as Religion

Devotion, that is the name of your love. Your love is an act of worship. Your love is like witnessing the birth of Venus, like seeing the sun come alive, or the stars fall. When you love, it is because you have found God in a lover. You have found the meaning of life itself in the heart of the one you adore. They are everything to you; they are your Maker, and you are their lamb, their flock, their first and holiest worshipper. When you fall in love, it is as a baptism. You are born anew, made a believer in the divinity of the one you love most. Being loved by you is an ascension; it is holy and golden. It is all-consuming, and all-faithful, loyal as the dog. You will never, ever bite back.

No surprises there, lol. This is how Eve describes meeting Lilith: “She was blasphemy and salvation, she was glory and grace and safety and sin, and she was the most beautiful person Eve had ever laid eyes on.” I was not subtle on the religious themes. She’s still figuring herself out – something she never had the chance to do under Adam and God – but she’s nothing if not devoted.

oc insight | What kind of love are you?

take this quiz as one (or more, in my case) of your OCs

So, thank you to @treshmind , @1000punks , and @neckromantics for all tagging me in this, haha!

I, as always, have many characters, so I'll pick two pairs of them. And before I get into it, I'll tag @fanby-fckry , @cannibaclysm , @rosewritesstoof , and @spiderin-space , since I know you folks have some pretty cool OCs.

First off, Pathos:

Athmoth | Love as a Choice

You choose to love. Love does not come to you easily, but every day you wake up and choose it. It would be so easy, wouldn't it, to grow cold and callous and grim. But you rise to greet the world, making the conscious effort to find something, anything to love. When you fall for someone, you do not kid yourself of their flaws. Instead, you resolve to see them for who they are, mistakes and all and you love them all the same. Your love is work, and it does not come easy. Your love sweats and toils. It is calloused and sunburned; it bears scars and comes with stories. Your love is worn, but it is no less valuable for it. Being loved by you is like being loved by a gardener, a mother, a teacher. Your love may not always be the simplest, but it is worth the effort.

Mythos | Love as a Flaw (as a side note, the irony of choosing both one of my grey-romantic characters and one of my aromantic characters for this is not lost on me)

Cowering, your love hides in the dark. In shadows and under cover of night, your love runs from corner to corner, afraid to linger, afraid to be caught. Afraid, afraid, afraid of everything. When you fall in love, it is with alarm bells ringing. Your love is a mistake, a flaw in the code, a purchase you don’t remember making and desperately want to return. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t want this. It’s a problem–– your problem ––and you would do anything to pass it off, burn it away, scoop it out of you with bare hands, or carved out with hooked knives before it can destroy you. Get it out, just get it out now. You don’t care who you hurt in the process, only that you can’t afford to be hurt first. Being loved by you is to be loved by a figment of the imagination. It is to be loved in halves, or not at all.

But also, doing Melowrath with this quiz feels necessary.

Melody | Love as Youth

Your love is buoyant. Your love is bountiful. It is ageless, and it will never age. When you fall in love, it is breathless. It is joyful and endless, it is magnificent. You think it, like your youth , will last forever. Youth is eternal, and so is your love. Your love skips rocks and tells stories, your love roasts marshmallows over fires, and laughs freely. Your love does not take itself too seriously. Your love is jumping into puddles just to watch the water splash, and dancing in the rain, and it is watching Sunday morning reruns of cartoons to feel young once more. Your love is forever, forever young. Being loved by you is to be loved by the summer months. And those never end, do they? Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.

Wrath | Love as a Threshold

Your love does not ask for much. Your love does not take. Your love is free, and unquestioned, and here for wherever needs it. When you fall in love, it is as gentle as a breath in the night. It is quiet, and it is effortless. It is tender. If your love was a house, it would readily welcome all who come through. If your love was a hearth, it would warm the hands of whoever stopped by, whether for a day, a month, a year, or forever. When you fall for someone, it is without strings, without conditions, without need. You love for the sake of loving, for the sake of caring for those who need it. You love with a giver’s heart and a giver’s hands and are made so much stronger for it. Being loved by you is to always feel at home. Your love may not always be well-received by those unprepared to linger, but it is unforgettable all the same.

[fanby-fckry]

Work In Progress Wednesday:

I was tagged by @grownupchangeling like forever ago, and said I’d do it “next Wednesday” but kept forgetting, hahaha. (Thanks for the tag, though, it helped motivate me to actually write some stuff :P)

Tagging: @i-write-sin-not-tragedy @luciferfemme @cornix-the-void-crow @stargazing-enby and anyone else who wants to do it! :3

This is another installment of Raze Hell. (It’s either the second or the third; I haven’t decided what order I want this and another WIP in.)

Content Warning: Angel Dust-typical sexual humor, Alastor-typical threats of violence

Vaggie let out a sound that Alastor deemed more annoying than amusing, which was his cue to interrupt her little tantrum. “I could always provide a more permanent solution,” he offered. “It is my responsibility as hotelier to protect the Hazbin and its occupants!” “No,” Vaggie grumbled. “It’d make the hotel look bad to have one Fallen Exorcist as a manager, then kill another in cold blood. Like Charlie’s giving me special treatment.” “Oh, I’m sure Charlie gives you some real special treatment-” “The point,” Vaggie said firmly, cutting Angel off before he could elaborate on the double entendre. “Is that we can’t condemn Raze just for being an ex-Exorcist.” “Or for being annoying,” she added. “I was an Exorcist, and you’re being annoying right now, but we’re still allowed to stay here.” Husk tried and failed to stifle a laugh. Angel shot him an exaggerated look of betrayal and sent matching one-fingered salutes to both Husk and Vaggie. Alastor watched the exchange like it was a three-player ping pong game. Niffty was still glued to the window.

[fanby-fckry]

Working on the fic where Dual meets Raze and thought you guys might enjoy this.

[fanby-fckry]

(Un)Welcome Guest

WIP Game

Aha, you have chosen the next Raze Hell fic!

This is the same fic I posted for the WIP Wednesday you tagged me in. The gist of it is: Raze keeps showing up to the hotel, most of the residents are not pleased with this, nobody knows what to do about it.

Well, one person has an idea. Two ideas, technically, but one of them got shot down. Twice. No murder, Alastor.

Content Warning: Discussion of canon-typical violence, but it’s so brief it barely counts.

Charlie groaned. “I know. Fuck, I’m sorry, I should’ve been there-” “To do what, exactly?” “What?” “Yes, what would you have done to stop Raze?” “I… well…” she stammered. “Nothing. You would’ve done nothing.” “I could’ve been there for moral support at least!” she protested. Alastor’s grin took on a sharper edge. “Which is to say, effectively, nothing.” “You and Vaggie have decided, using your bottomless benevolence and infamous public relations prowess, that nothing is the best course of action.” He placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “I’m here to suggest  something.” “I’m not going to kill Raze, Alastor,” she said, promptly removing said hand from her shoulder. “And I’m not giving you permission to kill them either.” “That’s not the something I had in mind, dear.” “Oh?” She perked up at that, and Alastor resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yes, yes, Alastor has a plan that doesn’t involve murder; call the presses and break out the champagne to celebrate this once-in-a-lifetime moment!

[fanby-fckry]

RAZE

Raze is a Fallen Exorcist who lost its grace after killing a fellow Exorcist, and now lives a mostly secluded life in Hell.

It has a volatile and unpredictable personality, and is prone to fighting allies and enemies alike.

Audition Song: “Raise Hell” by Dorothy or “Blood // Water” by grandson

Voice Notes: Raze has a strong, somewhat rough, androgynous voice with a higher pitched, cackling laugh. It can switch tones quickly, from distant and condescending, to sadistic and manic, to dark and threatening. Nonbinary or genderqueer actor preferred; any age or ethnicity.

(Picrew Credit: milqueandtoast)

Let’s be real, though – Raze doesn’t need a casting call, because I would play it. >:3c

Let’s do some casting calls for our Hazbin OCs!

[fanby-fckry]

You’ve heard of AAA (aromantic, asexual, agender) now get ready for bi bi bi (bisexual, bigender, bipolar)

[fanby-fckry]

Vaggie, There’s an Exorcist at the Door!

Word Count: 1,820

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Archive Warnings: None

Additional Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, (mentioned), Past Character Death

Series: Part 1 of Raze Hell ( || Next -> )

Summary:

“I don’t think they’re with Heaven anymore.”

Vaggie’s heart leapt into her throat and stuck there.  Another Fallen Exorcist?  That couldn’t be right, could it?

“Why do you say that?” Vaggie asked, trying not to sound like her entire world view was being flipped on its head again.

The Exorcists were an indivisible force.  They acted as one, obeying Adam’s commands unquestioningly and without hesitation.  Vaggie had never seen any of her comrades put so much as a toe out of line.  She was the first, the last, the only.  The black sheep, the prodigal daughter.  And she was punished accordingly.

Angel shrugged.  “Vibes, mostly.”

*

Vaggie thought she was the only Fallen Exorcist in existence—until a second one showed up on her doorstep.

Featuring: My edgy Fallen Exorcist OC, Vaggie’s trauma coming back to bite her, Angel Dust being Schrödinger’s Jerk (in which he both is and isn’t an asshole), and Charlie’s mediocre conflict de-escalation skills.

Better on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61469728

Available to registered users only.

Author’s Note:

I go into further detail on my AO3 notes (which is part of what I mean by “Better on AO3”) but the cast is not privy to Raze’s pronouns at this point in time. Raze uses it/its. Vaggie uses she/her for Raze once, is corrected, and from that point on, all characters and the narration refer to it using they/them.

“Vaggie?”  Angel Dust popped his head into Vaggie’s—limited—peripheral vision.

“What?”

“There’s an Exorcist at the door.”

Vaggie shot up in her seat, gripping the arm of the couch so hard the fabric tore.  “What?”

“An Exorcist.  At the door,” he repeated, flatly.  “Wings, weapons, the whole shebang.”

“Well, don’t let her in!”  How the fuck was Angel being so calm about this?

“Pretty sure they ain’t a ‘her’ anymore.”

“What?  All of us were…”  Vaggie abandoned that train of thought after realizing how fucking ridiculous it was to focus on the hypothetical gender nonconformity of the Exorcist at their door.  “Wait, that’s the detail that caught your attention?”

Angel rolled his eyes.  “It’s one Exorcist, toots.  I killed dozens of ‘em when Adam attacked the hotel. I’ve got angelic steel bullets, and they brought knives to a gunfight.”

That… was fair.  Carmilla had helped the hotel—and friends—restock on bullets and explosives in exchange for a percentage of the weapons left behind by the Exorcists when they made their retreat.  And using melee weapons exclusively despite angelic guns and bombs existing was ridiculously common for Exorcists.

Really, it was kind of a miracle that it took so long for the Sinners to realize they could fight back.

“How do you know they’re really alone?  It could be a ruse to lower our defenses, sending one soldier to our doorstep while others hide nearby.”

“Could be, but…  I don’t think they’re with Heaven anymore.”

Vaggie’s heart leapt into her throat and stuck there.  Another Fallen Exorcist?  That couldn’t be right, could it?

“Why do you say that?” Vaggie asked, trying not to sound like her entire world view was being flipped on its head again.

The Exorcists were an indivisible force.  They acted as one, obeying Adam’s commands unquestioningly and without hesitation.  Vaggie had never seen any of her comrades put so much as a toe out of line.  She was the first, the last, the only.  The black sheep, the prodigal daughter.  And she was punished accordingly.

Angel shrugged.  “Vibes, mostly.”

Vaggie blinked.  She could feel a migraine coming on, pain radiating behind her remaining eye.

“Vibes?” she repeated.

“Yeah.  They’re outta uniform.  And they look pretty Hellish for an angel.  Sharp teeth, black claws, stuff like that.”

Vaggie’s teeth had grown sharper since her Fall, slowly shifting into something more demonic as she spent more time cut off from Heaven and her Grace.  Lucifer looked like he’d gotten the same treatment a million times over.

How long had this mysterious Exorcist been living here to have teeth and claws that matched the Hell they’d Fallen to?  And how had Vaggie never heard so much as a whisper about them until they showed up on the hotel doorstep?

“I need to see this for myself.”

Sure enough, there was an Exorcist at the door.  Their black and white wings were stained red in some places—whether by blood or by Hell’s influence, Vaggie didn’t know—and they carried two sheathed daggers on their belt.

They were all sharp angles and scars, with a boxy frame and wiry muscles.  Their hair was longer than Adam would’ve allowed, unkempt and hanging past their shoulders, shaved on the right side.  They wore a black halterneck top and had a chest flatter than Vaggie’s. They carried themselves like a man—more so than most of the men living in the hotel.

Yeah, Vaggie could see why Angel suspected they might not be a 'her' anymore.

The Exorcist didn’t move to draw their weapons, but Vaggie kept her spear in hand just in case.  “State your business.”

“I saw some footage from the latest Extermination and noticed an angel fighting for the other team." Their voice had an almost inhuman quality about it—a rough tenor that called to mind the growling of a dog or the scrape of brick and mortar.

They smiled, and the canine comparison was reinforced by their prominent eye teeth. "Thought I’d stop by and say hello to my sister.”

Vaggie hated it when people called the Exorcists ‘sisters.’  They weren’t.  Not by blood or by bond.  Sisters in arms, sure, or a sisterhood in the way a college sorority is—complete with all the hazing and the expectation of cult-like loyalty—but those bonds were built on blades and severed by them, too.

And Vaggie wasn’t a part of their sisterhood anymore.

“What’s your name, sister?”

“Don’t call me that,” Vaggie snapped, unable to stop herself.

The Fallen Exorcist hummed unapologetically.

Vaggie swore under her breath.  “Vaggie,” she said.  “My name is Vaggie.”

“Hello, Vaggie.”

Vaggie liked the Exorcist less and less by the second—and in the minute or so since she’d met them, it was already ticking into the negative numbers.

But having another Fallen angel in Hell was a game changer. She couldn’t just send them away without doing some reconnaissance.

“And what about you?” she asked, trying her damnedest not to sound outright aggressive.  “What’s your name?”

The strange Fallen smiled, mouth full of razor sharp teeth.  “Raze,” they said.

“Raze,” Vaggie repeated.  She paused for a beat.  “And Adam named you that?”

Raze laughed, a single, sharp note.  “My angelic name died alongside the comrade I killed when I Fell.”

Another dent in Vaggie's perception of the Heaven and Hell, another revelation that sent her reeling. “You Fell because you killed another Exorcist?”

Raze shrugged.  “She pissed me off.  ‘S more fun down here, anyway.  Heaven was…”  They popped their neck and rolled their wings and shoulders.  “Restricting.”

“Plus, Adam is…”  Raze laughed, then gleefully corrected themselves, “Was an asshole.”

Well, Vaggie could agree with that, at least.

Raze tilted their head.  “And why did you Fall, Vaggie?  I’m a bit out of the loop on angelic gossip.”

Vaggie’s jaw clamped shut.  She’d had a bad feeling about Raze from the moment they walked in, and that feeling had only intensified the more she talked to them.  She didn’t exactly feel like spilling her guts, here.

Hell and all its denizens would know soon enough, anyway.  Charlie had gotten another interview with 666 News, and this time Vaggie would make an appearance.  Vaggie had already written up talking points for them both, and was prepared to give a short explanation of her Fall to get ahead of the inevitable shitstorm that would be unleashed once news got out that she was an ex-Exorcist.

“Well?” Raze prompted, dragging Vaggie from her thoughts.

“Mercy,” she gritted out.

Raze threw their head back and laughed.  A terrible, uproarious cackle that made Vaggie’s wings twitch in their sheaths and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Oh that’s fucking hilarious!”  All at once, Raze stopped laughing.  They went completely, uncannily silent, and looked Vaggie dead in the eye.

“Your crime was mercy, mine was ruthlessness.”  Their smile was more of a cruel curl of lips.  “And here we are, facing the same punishment.”

Vaggie instinctively reached up to touch the patch over her empty eye socket.  The gesture did not go unnoticed by Raze.

“Well, maybe not exactly the same.”  Raze winked—that pendejo actually fucking winked!—and sized Vaggie up as she violently seethed.  “But we both Fell, we’re both stuck here, and we’re both enjoying Damnation more than the folks Upstairs would like us to.”

Vaggie couldn't take it anymore. “Get the fuck out of my hotel.”

Raze widened their stance and reached for their daggers, hands poised over the hilts without drawing, although their fingers flexed like they were itching for a fight.

“Make me,” they growled.

Vaggie readied her own weapon.  Fuck, where was Angel Dust?  Raze had an angelic body count; Vaggie could use the backup, but she didn’t dare take her eye off Raze to look for him.

“Heyyy.”  Charlie, not Angel Dust.  Powerful, but almost definitely unarmed Charlie.

Luckily, something about her presence seemed to disarm Raze, anyway.  They didn’t look calm, exactly, or afraid—but they traded their fighting stance for a more relaxed posture.

Charlie put a hand on Vaggie’s shoulder, and Vaggie risked a glance.

“Am I interrupting something?” Charlie asked.  Her tone was purposefully non-threatening, but the meaning behind it was clear: I won’t escalate this without your permission; do you need my help?

“No,” Vaggie said, at the same time Raze said, “Yes.”

“But this is more interesting,” Raze added, their gaze raking over Charlie like a predator.

Vaggie tensed up again.  “I think you should go now,” she said, voice and spear held steady.

Raze opened their mouth, but Charlie interrupted them.  “Well, you heard her!  Time to go!”

Raze snarled, lips pulled back to expose their gums.  Then their expression went blank.  “Fine.”

They waved goodbye and turned on their heel.  “See ya ‘round, sister!” they called over their shoulder.  Vaggie didn’t rise to the bait.

Charlie slammed the door shut and Vaggie slumped against her, allowing herself to go limp in her girlfriend's arms as she wrapped them around her tightly.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Charlie cursed.  “Vaggie, are you ok?  Angel said you might need help.  Was that an Exorcist?  A Fallen Exorcist?  Do you know them?  What did they want?”

Vaggie kissed her quiet.  “I’m ok now,” she answered, “Yes, yes, no, and…”  She sighed.  “I don’t know.  Trouble, probably.”

Charlie pressed her forehead against Vaggie’s.  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” she promised.  “Won’t let them—or anyone else!—hurt you.”

Vaggie smiled.  “Thanks, hon.”

It was nice seeing Charlie’s protective side.  Usually, their roles were reversed.  Not that either of them really needed protection most of the time—they could both handle themselves in a fight—but it was nice, all the same.

She felt safe.  Loved.  Something she’d never felt before meeting Charlie.

“Gay!” Angel heckled.  Charlie blushed and Vaggie groaned.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Angel vaulted over the back of the couch and sat in a way that was probably disrespectful to the very concept of couches.

“Nothin’ that wouldn’t break ‘hotel policy,’” he said, sass complete with air quotes and an eye-roll.

Angel shifted in his seat.  “But uh,” he said, tone suddenly and surprisingly genuine.  “You alright, Vaggie?”

“Yes,” Vaggie said with a nod, then added, “Thanks, Angel.”

“‘Course,” Angel replied, and Vaggie could almost see the moment when he decided to return to being a jackass.  “Gotta look out for my favorite taco-twisted bitch.”

Vaggie stomped towards him, swearing in Spanish the whole way, picked up a throw pillow from the couch, and attempted to smother him with it.  None of that stopped the fit of giggles Angel had burst into.

Charlie tried to cajole them out of fighting without physically breaking them apart, and secretly, Vaggie appreciated the normalcy of it all.

No more earth-shattering revelations, no more Exorcists at the door.  Just another routine day at the Hazbin Hotel.  Thank fuck for that.

[fanby-fckry]

14

Get to Know Your Character

Thanks for the ask! :3

14. What kind of people do they tend to gravitate towards?

Since you didn’t specify an OC, I’ll do all 3.

Raze:

Raze mostly gravitates towards whomever it thinks will be fun to scare, anger, and/or fight. This is intentional. Even its relationship with Dual started out that way.

Dual:

Like attracts like, for better or worse.

Dual gravitates towards deeply unstable and volatile people.

Destiny:

The type of person Destiny intends to attract and the type she actually gravitates towards are completely different.

Throughout high school and early young adulthood, Destiny tries and fails to fit in. This does not work, and she winds up with the weebs and the emos.

By the time of her death, Destiny had pretty much given up on this whole normal thing, instead surrounding herself with… mmm, likeminded individuals.

[fanby-fckry]

Raze, 1!

Get to Know Your Character #2

Thank you! :3

1. What good/bad traits do they bring out in others?

The bad traits Raze brings out in others are almost entirely on purpose. Its main goal in life is to goad people into fights, and to provoke anger, fear, or discomfort. And it’s good at what it does.

As for good traits, let me set the scene:

You grew up in a repressive, cult-like environment, and are still trying to get over the weird morality complexes they gave you after being violently expelled. You meet someone else who escaped the same cult. They are the worst person you’ve ever met, and are hellbent on being a pain in your ass. Their existence challenges everything you thought you knew, and turns your life upside-down again. They bluntly, and brutally call you out when you fall into the same logic you grew up with, and when you overcorrect. And the worst part is, it’s working.

That is a little taste of what its like to be Vaggie, when faced with Raze.

Charlie showed Vaggie that demons are people. She showed her gentleness and kindness and love. She is, at times, perhaps too gentle. She doesn’t say anything (onscreen, at least) about Vaggie’s sex negativity/anti-kink attitude, and she doesn’t seem to really recognize when Vaggie falls into codependent, self-sacrificial behavior.

Raze is kicking Vaggie’s ass, calling her the fuck out, and inadvertently making her expand her views on self-determination, personhood, gender, and a whole lot of other stuff, probably.

Discomfort is often necessary for change, and oh boy, does Raze make Vaggie uncomfortable!

And then, of course, there’s Dual. The qualities Raze brings our in Dual are initially the same qualities it brings out in most: fear, rage, violence. The difference is that Dual was already afraid and angry and violent. Raze gives them a place that they’re able to express it without judgement. Which ironically, leads to Dual being a much more well adjusted person.

They make each other worse so that they can make each other better. The second part is mostly by accident, but it works.

[fanby-fckry]

Raze 🎭 (if you feel like doing another!)

Yet Another OC Ask Game

Hell yeah I do! Thanks for the ask! :3

🎭 What is the one thing your OC regrets most? Would they undo it, considering how their life turned out?

No regerts.

I was actually hoping someone would ask this for Raze, because I can’t think of a single lasting regret. It freaks the fuck out over getting close to someone, sure. It wonders, “How the fuck could this have happened? Why did I do that? Oh fuck, is this what fear feels like? I hate this, this sucks,” but by the time it’s done with that crisis, I don’t think it regrets it.

Raze doesn’t experience remorse like… at all, and its regrets are fleeting and few and far between. It doesn’t regret Falling, it doesn’t regret any of the changes its made to its body, it doesn’t regret making enemies, and after taking a while to get used to the idea, it doesn’t regret making this new kind of friend. (I’m not 100% sure what those two have going on yet, but it’s some flavor of queerplatonic.)

[fanby-fckry]

for this ask game:

all of the prompts were so good honestly

🪨/🐹 for Raze,

🥪/🎲 for Dual

thank youu :)

And thank you for the ask! :3

🪨 Someone gifts your OC a shiny rock. What do they do with it?

Depends on who gave it the rock. Raze isn’t at all sentimental, and it makes more enemies than friends. If someone it doesn’t care about gives it a rock, it’s either going to throw the rock back at them or do something passive aggressive with it.

In the rare event of someone it does care about giving it a shiny rock, it would assume that the rock meant something to the gifter, and would keep it out of respect. It wouldn’t treasure the rock or display it or look at it and think if the gifter, but it’d recognize that keeping it is the “right thing to do” in order to keep the gifter happy.

The one thing it might do with the rock is throw it at the gifter’s enemies, or otherwise use it in the gifter’s defense. Because in its mind, that’s a much better and more meaningful use of the rock than keeping it to look pretty.

🐹 Which would be your OCs favorite Pokemon? What kind of trainer would they be?

Oh no, how did I miss this when I reblogged? I don’t really know enough about pokémon to answer this one properly.

Hmm, I feel like it’d prefer ghost types or fighting types, but I don’t have any individual pokémon I can think of that stand out. As for what type of trainer it’d be: I think it’d mainly be antsy and jealous over the pokémon doing the fighting instead of it! It wants to be the one with super cool powers, battling other creatures every day!

Its backstory involves becoming more monstrous on purpose, in part because it wanted to be able to fight to the death more than once a year.

You know those ghost pokémon that are strongly implied (or outright stated) to be the souls of dead humans? Raze would kin those so hard. It would’ve made up its own pokésona: a ghost type which comes from restless human souls who want nothing but blood.

🥪 On a scale from ‘burns water’ to '5 course menu’ how well can your OC cook?

As a human, Dual was a solid, “boxed mac and cheese, scrambled eggs, I threw some extra spices in this microwaved ramen so that counts as cooking,” kind of person. They were never really taught how to cook, and they never really bothered to learn.

As a demon? I’m not sure I’ve ever talked about Dual’s demon body before, but in case I haven’t, or for people who don’t wanna go digging to see if I have: Dual is an elemental demon. Their body is split down the middle: half water, half fire. They LITERALLY burn everything they touch if they aren’t extremely careful. They won’t burn water, but they sure as hell evaporate it.

🎲 If your OC played a pen and paper RPG, what class would they pick? Warrior, mage, thief, ranger, cleric, paladin, druid, necromancer, bard (or other, if that’s not enough).

Mage, I think. Specifically one that uses elemental magic. They both love and hate the form Hell gave them, but a lot of what they hate about it is the lack of control. Playing as a character who isn’t literally made of fire and (sometimes boiling) water, but can control fire and/or water? That’s wish fulfillment fantasy right there.

[fanby-fckry]

I keep writing narrative foils where one gave up their humanity or divinity willingly and the other had it ripped from them.

[fanby-fckry]

Saw this tag game and wanted to play, but I wasn’t tagged, so I’m starting my own chain, lol.

Character and Creator

Make you and your OC in this picrew!

Raze didn’t work super well in this one, so I made Eve from the Unholyverse! Her hair is actually a bit curlier than that (more 3a or 3b), but I worked with what I had!

Tagging: @i-write-sin-not-tragedy @moonrose91 @song-writer-melo-wrath and anyone else who wants to play!

And here’s Raze:

The cross should be inverted, and its hair is supposed to be a side-shave on one side, not this. But what can you do?

And ya know what? Fuck it. Human!Dual.

Of course they have blue hair and pronouns (reference/joking). (Sorry, I had to.) They’ve also got the best approximation of grunge I could manage here, because they died a broke 20-something in the 90’s. I haven’t decided on a human name for them, so they’re still just Dual.

Dual’s Sinner form is impossible to make in a picrew. They’re un-picrew-able. Elemental demon that’s half water, half fire; half femme, half masc.

[fanby-fckry]

6 for Fate and 9 for Raze?

Shame and Secrets

Thanks for the ask, nonny!

6. How does your oc react to being told someone else’s secret? Do they lock it up tight, or spread it around?

Fate wouldn’t tell somebody else’s secret without a good reason. For multiple reasons.

If she’s close enough to be privy to secrets, that’s probably someone she considers a friend.

It’s best to hang on to secrets in case she needs them later.

Going back to the blackmailing question from the previous ask, there’s a perfect example of the type of situation she saves secrets for.

Fate is that one friend who has contingency plans for everyone else in the friend group. She won’t use them, though… probably.

9. How much shame does your oc feel about themself or their past? Do they brush stuff off and feel carefree, or stay up at night recounting mistakes?

Ah, I was wondering if anyone was going to ask this for Raze!

Raze is largely incapable of shame. Legitimately, that is not an emotion it feels. Discomfort, yes, but not shame. And not at anything it did, either.

As far as Raze is concerned, there’s nothing in its past to count as a mistake.

Falling? Best thing it ever did. Killing another Exorcist on the way down? Bitch had it coming. The thousands of Sinners it killed before Falling, and all the demons it’s killed since? It was fun. Its scars? Wears them with pride.

The closest thing to shame is that it’ll cringe if it was called by its deadname. But it’s not ashamed of that name or of who it was in Heaven. It’s just that its deadname is dead. It never really felt comfortable with that name to begin with, but when it Fell, it shed that name once and for all.

Also, the cringe would be quickly followed by murderous rage because that is like… one of the few remaining secrets it has now that it’s out as an ex-Exorcist. However, the only people who know its deadname are either dead (Adam and its comrade) or sworn to secrecy (every Exorcist that was around when Raze Fell), so that’s not something it really has to worry about.

[fanby-fckry]

WIP Wednesday!

I was tagged by both @minimosquitogirl and @grownupchangeling!

No pressure tags for: @i-write-sin-not-tragedy, @vestadragon, @there-and-gone, and anyone else who wants to play! :3

This is uh. A snippet of my entirely self indulgent, OC-focused fic, because all my other active WIPs right now are so short that it doesn’t make sense to post snippets.

No real content warnings to give; the fic is pretty tame given the fandom, and the snippet is even tamer.

“Could be, but…  I don’t think they’re with Heaven anymore.” Vaggie’s heart leapt into her throat and stuck there.  Another Fallen Exorcist?  That couldn’t be right, could it? “Why do you say that?” Vaggie asked, trying not to sound like her entire world view was being flipped on its head again. The Exorcists were an indivisible force.  They acted as one, obeying Adam’s commands unquestioningly and without hesitation.  Vaggie had never seen any of her comrades put so much as a toe out of line.  She was the first, the last, the only.  The black sheep, the prodigal daughter.  And she was punished accordingly. Angel shrugged.  “Vibes, mostly.” Vaggie blinked.  She could feel a migraine coming on, pain radiating behind her remaining eye. “Vibes?” she repeated. “Yeah. They’re outta uniform. And they look pretty Hellish for an angel. Sharp teeth, black claws, stuff like that.” Vaggie’s teeth had grown sharper since her Fall, slowly shifting into something more demonic as she spent more time cut off from Heaven and her Grace.  Lucifer looked like he’d gotten the same treatment a million times over. How long had this mysterious Exorcist been living here to have teeth and claws that matched the Hell they’d Fallen to?  And how had Vaggie never heard so much as a whisper about them until they showed up on the hotel doorstep? “I need to see this for myself.”