#new character reveal

[deckofcardau]

Not my best chapter, but..

Atleast I got the new character out of the way, so I can post these now!! All of these are old so excuse me for it ☹️

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #42: Callaghan

Masterlist

content: hallucinations, psychiatry, past non-con drugging, dehumanization, general themes of abuse

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The laboratory was silent, save for the hum of the deep freezer. The cursor flashed a thin black line on the computer screen. Her notes were all sprawled on the desk, journals and scrap papers arranged in proper chronological order. A cup of coffee sat on a coaster and waited to go cold.

Heather leaned back in her chair. The first word was always the hardest. If she could start with that, the paper would just about write itself, and she—

The door slammed open. “Do you have bug spray?”

She glanced up, not bothering to wipe the irritation off her face. “I beg your pardon?”

Jackie stood in the open doorway, taking a second to catch his breath, his bangs haphazard in front of his eyes, shirt somewhat ruffled. “There’s spiders all over the basement.”

“Spiders?” That was always a problem as the weather got warmer. Spring had almost arrived. It was a bit early, yes, but spiders tended to ignore most calendars. “I… How many are there?”

“I don’t know. A whole lot. Must be a nest or something.”

“A nest?” She stood up from the chair. “I’ll take a look."

They came to the basement door, open to the chasm of its stair steps. They just fixed the shower a couple days ago, and she wasn’t looking forward to another afternoon sorting this out. The basement was where Jackie’s bed stood, after all, and all his furniture. He still slept there sometimes, so an infestation would be inconvenient.

She followed him down the stairs. He turned the light switch on. They waited on the staircase.

If Heather actually saw any spiders, she would have been much less worried. At least pests could be disposed of with some time and effort.

Unfortunately, she saw nothing. Not even any other sort of insect, not even ants or cockroaches. The basement was as empty as it always was, which meant Jackie was seeing things. 

“I guess they’re gone. Weird.” He gave her concerned expression an equally concerned glance. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“So, you’re saying that there were spiders here? Right here? On the basement floor?”

“...Yes?” 

“You’re not feeling ill, are you? Do you have a fever?” She placed the back of her hand against his forehead. His temperature was normal, however.

He swatted her hand away. “No, I’m fine. What are you going on about? Spit it out already.”

“Jackie. You’re hallucinating again.”

“Again.” He glared at the featureless concrete floor. "I don't know why it's happening now."

That was the problem: she didn’t know either. Why this was happening, or how to stop it. She knew this wasn’t normal, but that was about as far as her expertise went. She could sedate him, maybe, perhaps administer fever medication, even add in a few antihistamines, but she had nothing for hallucinations. She didn't know where to start. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” she replied firmly. “This is serious.”

He sat sprawled on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. “But there’s nothing we can do, right? So… we’ll do nothing. It has to go away eventually. Honestly, they don’t even bother me.”

“They don’t bother you yet, but waiting around will only make the problem worse. We should go to a psychiatrist.”

He shrugged. “I guess."

“The only problem would be finding a psychiatrist who won’t call the police.”

“Ask around. I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

“Ask around where?”

“Oh, you know.” He waved his hand in a vague arc. “There’s probably someone shady you talked to once or twice. Don’t you guys have connections?”

This was such a terrible suggestion that she was at a loss on how to reply. But it did get her thinking. She didn’t know many criminals, but she had met a rather eccentric professor back at Oxford. Professor Callaghan was somewhat prolific with the student body, often going on rants about the limitations of organized academia instead of teaching anything. He quickly became her favorite. Their shared interests and, dare she say it, sense of camaraderie quickly spiraled into an apprenticeship of sorts, where she helped him dig up graves and the like.

This meant he was—luckily for her—a graverobber. Not an ill-mannered graverobber, of course. Not some petty thief. He was actually quite a nice person. Those corpses had been exhumed for scientific reasons, and the occasional gold ring. The bodies looked a little too fresh, sometimes, but what he did in his spare hours was none of her concern. More importantly, this meant he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. Ergo, Callaghan wouldn’t complain about a bit of blood on hers.

He taught psychology, but he also had a medical degree, and later moved back to America to open up a psychiatry practice. Americans paid more, he told her, and most of his family lived there. It had been five years since she left school, but she was sure that he wouldn’t mind doing her a favor. If it was money he wanted, so be it. She would pay any amount to ensure her subject’s health.

So she called the professor to set up an appointment. He didn’t live too far from her. Jackie wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the idea, but he didn’t complain about tagging along.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

They arrived without any trouble, about a week later.

“Are you sure this is his house?” he asked.

Heather glanced behind her shoulder, where Jackie stood at the entrance steps. “Yes, I’m absolutely certain. I checked three times. Also, it says his name there.” She gestured towards the plaque bearing a carving, which read DR. LUKAS CALLAGHAN. 

“Okay, but it just looks so…”

It did have a jarring appearance. Great big arches at the windows, dark mahogany and ashen brick, dramatic sprays of briar rose and blackwoods here and there. But it was a nice place, otherwise. Her old psychology professor was doing well for himself. 

“Hurry up.” She ushered Jackie up the steps with an impatient wave. “We need to be punctual. Professor Callaghan is very particular about these sorts of things, and I want to be polite. He’s doing us a significant favor.”

He followed after her, while she let the big brass knocker hit the door. Once, twice, it echoed against the heavy wood. They waited.

And they waited. It was not so cold anymore, and her breath no longer crystallized in the air. She couldn’t distract herself with that. So she occupied herself with the flora, the thorny bushes and wild roses, the jagged-edged bark against the early evening light. 

The door pushed open. “Miss Rodriguez. What a pleasure to see you again.”

His appearance was exactly as she remembered it: combed black hair, brown skin, and a neat beard and mustache. Pale blue eyes. Formal clothing, or close to formal, neat and clean-pressed in any case. Gray overcoat, polished shoes. Though she was surprised to see a smooth, simple wood cane in the firm grasp of his gnarled hand. Five years had taken a toll.

“Professor Callaghan.” Her smile was genuine. “I hope you’re well.”

“As well as always.” His gaze shifted to Jackie, who looked a bit tense in the eyes and shoulders. “I assume this is Jackson?”

“Yes, that’s Jack.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” But he barely paid Jackie any mind. Instead, the professor opened the door wider, stepped aside. “Please, come in. Have some tea. We can begin our discussion once we’re settled.”

She entered, and so did Jackie, though his gait was rather nervous through the empty hallways and dusty floors, which creaked unreasonably with each and every step. The smell of mildew was faint enough to come off as esoteric. 

Jackie adjusted his shirt collar, then leaned in to mutter to Heather. “Does he know about the… you know…”

“He’s aware of the kidnapping,” she muttered back. Callaghan had not noticed their conversation at all; he was walking straight forward, direct as an arrow, cane clacking against the floorboards at rhythmic intervals. “I told him over the phone.”

“And he didn’t care?” Jackie flicked an irritated glance towards the professor. “Is he not worried… at all?”

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if he was.”

“What about the immortality?”

“You try convincing someone that immortality exists. I didn’t mention it.” She ended the conversation there, leaned away before he could mutter anything back. 

Just in time, too. The professor slowed down as they rounded into what was likely a living room. Or a guest room, judging by the collection of fine china arranged on the coffee table. Feathered blue on white patterns, teacups on small saucers, and a teapot lined with gold on the lid. 

Callaghan placed his cane against a table leg. He then gestured towards the seats. Victorian-looking. Not quite sofas, not quite chairs. Single seaters. “Please, sit.”

Heather settled into the nearest seat. So did Jackie, to her right.

The professor lifted the teapot and poured its contents into a teacup, the one nearest to Heather. It was a deep amber, steaming slightly once it pooled, while its surface was disturbed by tiny ripples. “We may as well begin our examination. Now, what was it that led to your... particular set of circumstances?"

"What do you mean, professor?”

Jackie raised his hand. “Can I have some tea?”

Callaghan poured him a cup, then settled into the seat opposite them. “I apologize for speaking so bluntly, but I assume you didn’t intend to watch him drink tea all day. If I remember correctly, you took an interest in pharmaceutical research…?”

“Oh, yes, I did. I do. I still do.” She brought the cup to her lips, if only to hide her stammering. Heather had never talked about these things before, not about Jackie’s existence or her experiments, and certainly never in such a blithe manner.

But Callaghan didn’t seem to be bothered at all. Not on the phone and not in person. Nothing could ever shake him. She glanced behind his shoulders. There was a familiar copy of Macbeth placed on the mantle. Heather had given it to him as a gift, so many years ago.

Callaghan spoke again. “I recall that you were interested in developing… ah, the name slips my mind. I know you studied nerve tissue for some time.”

“Yes, I developed a selective paralytic.” She drew her attention away from the mantle. “My experiments were successful, although I doubt it’s safe enough for general use yet. The perils of a small control group, as you might know.” She risked a small smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I simply want a good grasp on all the variables. Jackson has been experiencing hallucinations, yes?”

She nodded. 

“Spiders,” Jackie said. “The hallucinations, I mean. Are spiders. Sir.” He ended this interjection with a stilted cough. 

“Indeed,” said Callaghan. “There could be any number of causes, and I simply wish to lay them all out on the table, so to speak. How often do these hallucinations occur?”

“They stopped for a few months,” she said. “They started again this week. I’m not sure why. I’ve tried everything, professor, but none of it is working. What should I do?”

Jackie gave her a bewildered glance, but Callaghan answered with comforting curtness. “We’ll put together a treatment in due time. There’s no need to panic. Now, has he been given any medication in the last week?”

“A few doses of sedatives.” Not that she wanted to start drugging his food without his knowledge again, but she was concerned for his safety. “He’s been irritable, recently.”

“What?” Jackie cut in. “I wasn’t being—“

She stepped on his shoe from under the table, keeping her expression on Callaghan all the while. Jackie stopped talking. Though his grip on the teacup was turning his knuckles pale, and the corners of his mouth were tense again.

The professor picked up a notepad from the table, then procured a fountain pen from his coat. He wrote in precise motions of his rough hand. “Was any Percocet administered? Oxycodone? Benzodiazepines?”

“No Percocet or oxycodone. I administered four milligrams of benzodiazepines for a week. Pentazocine, as well, fifty milligrams for two weeks. Some aspirin, occasionally, and some experimental drugs I developed."

“I see.” He nodded to himself and wrote something down. Then he gestured to Jackie. "How have you been feeling?"

“I'm fine,” Jackie said.

“You can be honest, Jackson. Such a situation can be stressful, I’m sure. I doubt Miss Rodriguez will harm you for speaking the truth in a medical setting.”

“Yes, I won’t. Go ahead, Jackie. Speak your mind.” She stared at him, waited, widening her eyes just enough that he would notice.

“I guess, I—“ He seemed to be profoundly uncomfortable. Stock-still as a rabbit on its hind legs, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. “I guess I’ve been kind of… I don't know. I'm being honest, everything's okay."

This, too, was written down. Now Heather understood why Jackie disliked her tape recorders. “Is that true? You used some strong wording on the phone, Miss Rodriguez. I assumed it wasn't his choice to assist you."

She hesitated for as long as polite manners would allow. “It wasn't.”

Jackie had taken to staring, not just daggers, but bullet holes into the table.

“Well, we don’t need to get into details.” The pen scratched upon paper. “Just so that we cover all our bases—has he suffered a concussion, or any cranial injury of that sort?"

Removing his frontal lobe might have been detrimental. Heather decided to leave that topic alone. "No."

"I thought so. I've always known you to be careful. I do wonder, what became of you after leaving Oxford? It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

“Five years. Or, I suppose it’s been six, from your perspective.” Callaghan left in her last year of study. His replacement was much less interesting, so Heather stopped taking psychology shortly after. “I continued researching on my own. If I worked under someone else's supervision, I would be wasting my time. You of all people should understand that, professor."

“Indeed. I understand why you might wish to keep this private. I think a change would be good for you, in fact. Especially after that loss in your family. Still, you were quite the student. If it means anything, I’m certain you’ll find success in your study.”

It did actually mean something. It meant quite a lot to her, in fact. She swallowed, tried not to show it on her face. Heather did not receive much support in her scientific endeavors, lately. She had been half-afraid that Callaghan wouldn’t entertain her at all, that he would dial the authorities right after hanging up. On the contrary, however. He had been nothing but pleasant during their reunion.

Jackie was starting to look bored.

Callaghan cleared his throat. “You, Jackson, what is your relationship with her?”

His head lifted. “It’s good.”

The professor glanced at Heather. “Would you agree with this statement?”

“Yes,” she replied slowly. “I would.”

“Interesting.” Callaghan was studying her expression intently. “There is no animosity between you two?”

“Not… particularly,” she said. “We have arguments, sometimes, but that's all.”

Jackie offered nothing on this subject. He resumed staring, into his tea this time.

“Interesting,” Callaghan repeated. “Miss Rodriguez, you informed me that he doesn’t have a family history of illness, correct? As far as you know.”

“Yes.”

“And the hallucinations are the main symptoms.” He nodded. He capped his pen but didn’t put the notepad down. “Jackson, I will need you to follow me. I have a soundproof room.”

Jackie hesitated, and so did she. “What do you need him for?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing invasive. I simply would like to ask a few questions in private.” Callaghan stood up. His cane resumed its place in his hand, tapping against the floor as he stepped away from the seat. “I find it helps patients to speak more freely. I wish you no harm, Jackson, so there’s no need to look so tense.”

“Sorry, sir.” He stood up as well, then followed Callaghan to a hallway around the corner.

Heather watched them leave. Once she was sure they were gone, she sighed and slumped in her chair. This was all for Jackie, she reminded herself. Also, partly to see Callaghan again, though it pained her to admit it. In Oxford, she was always surrounded by people. It was impossible to find a quiet place. Her father had died while she was abroad, so she came back to an empty house, and she hadn't gotten used to it. She didn't know anyone from work. It bored her. Or was it apathy? The days seemed to stagnate sometimes.

Well, that didn't matter anymore. There was nothing to worry about. Jackie would be cooperative. He had said so, practically promised it, swore it up and down, and she believed him.

A soundproof room. How quaint. Heather could get one of those. She and the professor had many shared interests, clearly. Though that shouldn’t have been reassuring, it was. She had never felt nervous around Callaghan, even as a baby-faced and vulnerable first year. She probably should have felt nervous. Nobody knew where she went during those 'night classes', and Callaghan carried a heavy shovel when they visited the graveyard. She had been alone with him for hours. Still, she never thought his intentions would sour.

It was a little unnerving that he could convince her so easily. It was the way he spoke. So calm all the time. And he was a trustworthy man. A solid pillar of the scientific community, of academia in general. Five long years. Six years, actually. She had missed him.

The clock up on the wall ticked, a higher-pitched sound than the clock in her own home. She tapped her hand against the seat’s arm while she waited.

A door creaked open in the hallway. She sat up straighter. There, in the far shadows of the room—only one person, Callaghan returning alone. She stood to greet him.

“Professor? Do you know what’s wrong?”

“There’s no need to fret, Miss Rodriguez.” He approached her. “I believe I have my diagnosis.”

“You do? Is it permanent? Is it—“ She frowned. “Professor, was my treatment of him too… harsh?”

“No, no.” He paused. “Well, yes, but that can’t be helped. A hostage situation always involves some level of stress, after all. But I don’t think the damage is excessive.”

“Then… what is it? What’s your diagnosis?” She gazed up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, though she was aware in the back of her mind that she probably looked ridiculous. Like a child. Callaghan was so much older than her, though. Taller than her, by half a foot at least. She couldn't compare.

“He certainly has a… strange relationship with you. There’s nothing to be done about that, I suppose. It must make your work easier, so…” He trailed off. “Well, aside from that, Jackson has experienced a great deal of strain. The hallucinations must originate from a combination of stress and heavy drug use. It’s not too uncommon. I’ve seen it in other patients before.”

“You have? Can he be cured?”

Callaghan shook his head. “I’m not sure about a cure, necessarily. It’s hard to say. He’s always going to be affected by it. But the symptoms can be managed. With some time and rest, the hallucinations could go away completely.”

“But, professor, why is he seeing spiders?”

“Ah, it’s a mystery.” He chuckled quietly. “But it’s not something to work yourself up about. Certainly, shadowy black objects are what a patient usually sees.”

That made sense. She nodded.

“Now, as for his treatment.” Callaghan produced two bottles of pills. White and the size of inkwells, labeled with rectangular green stickers. “This is anxiety medication.” He handed her the first bottle. “Administer that every day for a week. Don’t give him any grapefruit.” Then, the second bottle. “This is for sleep. Use it sparingly, since we don’t want him to develop a dependence.”

Alprazolam and Eszopiclone. “Thank you, professor.”

“It was my pleasure, Miss Rodriguez.”

“Yes, professor. I appreciate this, really. I can’t express my gratitude enough. I just have one question.” A worry, more like, a quiet fear at the back of her mind. “What should I do if he doesn’t get better? What if he gets worse?”

At this, Callaghan gave her a comforting look, a gentle certainty of an answer. “You could always dispose of him. I’m sure you are well aware of how we euthanize mice. An anesthetic and a sharp blade should be sufficient. If Jackson is no longer useful, there’s not much point in wasting resources on him.”

She forced her expression not to change. Even if Jackie could die, she couldn’t bear the thought. He was… he was her… well, whatever the word for it…

“Professor,” she said quietly, “you’re talking like he’s not human.”

His comforting look only grew in weight, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Heather, you’re very attached to him. I can see that. But you can’t get too attached. You will have to make some difficult decisions eventually. Don’t let emotions interfere with that.”

“Difficult decisions… like what?”

“Who truly knows? That’s the beauty of science, isn’t it? It’s full of surprises.” He was so calm about it all, as steady as an anchor. His hand lifted from her shoulder. “Don’t overwork yourself. Oh, and do keep in touch. Call me in a week. Jackson is a terribly fascinating patient, and I’d like to see how his condition progresses. To adjust doses and such.”

“Of course. I’ll call you.”

The warmth in his eyes was unmistakable. He had always been a sentimental man. It was the rosy tint of memory over them both. 

But this pause didn’t last long. Callaghan started. “Ah, I nearly forgot.”

He held out a business card. At least, she thought it was a business card. There were flowery gold embellishments around the sides, thin leaves and such, and lines of serifed black text in the center of it all. There was a name—Mary Callaghan, she read silently—and a number. Heather took it from his hand.

“That is my sister’s contact information,” he explained. “She has dealt with this sort of situation before. She would be happy to answer any questions. I’m not terribly experienced in this field, I’ll admit. Most of the people she deals with have stopped breathing by the time I get to them. Cadavers don’t make for interesting small talk, I’m afraid.” He laughed.

Heather laughed along with him, though she was thoroughly exhausted.

Callaghan soon cleared his throat and stepped aside. “You may retrieve Jackson and return home now. I greatly hope for your success.”

“Thanks.” She pocketed the card. “Thank you, professor. For everything.”

“You’re very welcome, Rodriguez.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump @dont-look-me-in-the-eye

[bryan360]

It just happened during my birthday where I’d picked up for today’s new character reveal.

I remember watching that “Danny Phantom” episode about the ghost rocker almost taking over the world with her music. So it was surprisingly to having her join the battle like this.

It does make sense when getting more reps from the like of SpongeBob or Avatar: The Last Airbender.

At least knowing a certain antagonist will be in the game whether a playable or a boss.

Tagged: @murumokirby360 @carmenramcat @alexander1301 @rafacaz4lisam2k4 @paektu

[witch-of-fanart]

Meeting the Father page 9

SERENA!!! aka the girl who the Gangreen Gang tried and failed to rob! Only now she got her bangs dyed and is revealed as Becky's favorite cousin.

(also if anyone has been following since the Harry Potter stuff you might notice I had her switch universes. I just think she would fit in with Townsville more than the Wizarding world)

[chloesimaginationthings]

Shout out to FNAF phone guy finally getting a name!

[tinyfantasminha]

OC introduction

[Thank you @haryuwu, @stestylius-arts and @ai-kan1 for the templates they look so clean and organized and I love them 😋]

Personality:

At first glance, Vic comes across as reserved and ordinary, maintaining cordial relationships without actively seeking friendships. However, once she grows close to someone, her brighter, more playful side shines through—she’s witty, bantering, and a bit tomboyish. She dislikes feeling restricted and tends to rebel against rules she finds unfair or unreasonable. While she firmly denies being a "mom friend," (she repulses the thought even) her actions often tell a different story. She’s fiercely loyal, quietly looking out for her friends and always stepping in to support them when they’re in need, even if she doesn’t admit it outright.

Though Vic sometimes comes across as naive or a bit of an airhead, it’s often by design—she purposefully plays the fool, keeping others guessing about her true thoughts and intentions. Why does she do this? Well… whatever the reason, there’s more to her than meets the eye.

Backstory:

Vic was once a naive, pure-hearted child, eager to please and willing to follow anyone’s whims. That all changed after a traumatic incident during a school trip to the woods. A classmate told her, “Wait right here and don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Obediently, she stayed put, unnoticed by her teachers or classmates. Hours passed as she waited, terrified and alone, until she was finally found by school staff after her mother reported her missing. This event left a deep scar on Vic, and the phrase “I’ll be right back” still triggers a wave of unease in her. Afterward, her submissive tendencies only worsened. She believed that by doing everything people asked, she’d be liked and accepted, avoiding the risk of being abandoned or badmouthed. Throughout middle school, this behavior made her an easy target for manipulation and psychological abuse. By her final years of high school, something within her snapped. The years of mistreatment awakened a rebellious, sharp-edged side. Vic stopped letting people walk all over her, becoming grumpier, colder, and more distrustful. She built a fortress around her true emotions, frequently lying or feigning indifference to protect herself. Though she hated the version of herself her pain had created, she learned to survive in her own way.

After graduating, Vic celebrated the end of that painful chapter in her life and vowed to reinvent herself. But just three days later, her plans were upended when she was hit by a mysterious carriage.

After the events of the prologue and her enrollment at NRC alongside Grim, Vic was struck by the mortifying realization that she’d have to relive high school all over again. Adding insult to injury, she remembered that, at the time she was hit by the mysterious carriage, she had been on her way to celebrate her graduation with an açaí smoothie—a treat she never got to enjoy. To this day, she can’t help but lament the smoothie that never was.

Notable relationships:

Jack Howl 🐺

At first, Vic was intimidated by Jack, fearing he’d be as condescending and judgmental as her classmates from middle school. However, once she got to know him, his caring and loyal nature quickly won her trust. Because of her magicless status and petite stature, Jack’s protective instincts naturally kick in around her. He often escorts her across campus, which leads to them spending more time together and growing closer.

Vic admires Jack’s honesty and strong sense of justice—qualities she found rare during her school days. His loyalty and protective behavior deeply touch her, even when he tries to hide it behind his tsundere demeanor (which she secretly finds adorable). Around Jack, Vic feels safe in a way she hasn’t before.

As their bond deepens, they begin to pine for each other, turning what should be simple interactions into painfully awkward moments. Jack’s straightforward and genuine nature makes Vic’s carefully constructed mask of aloofness crumble in his presence, leaving her vulnerable and overwhelmed by her emotions. Her feelings for him force her to confront her fears and insecurities, often leaving her shaken.

"If only there was someone like you by my side back then… maybe I wouldn’t have…!”

Leona Kingscholar 🦁

Initially, Vic and Leona barely interacted. He seemed indifferent to her presence and quietly appreciated that she didn’t nag him or try to change his lazy ways. However, her frequent visits to Savanaclaw piqued his curiosity, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was some kind of thrill-seeker. Her seemingly fragile, harmless appearance contrasted sharply with the boldness it took to linger in a dorm full of beastmen, leading him to nickname her “little mouse.”

Vic usually treats Leona with sweetness, but he sees right through her doe-eyed facade. Her true motives remain a mystery to him, and that intrigue makes him determined to unravel her secrets. To that end, Leona enjoys teasing and flustering her, just to watch her carefully constructed mask crack.

Leona is also keenly aware of Vic and Jack’s feelings for each other, which he finds highly entertaining. He takes great pleasure in cockblocking taunting them about it, using his sharp wit to nudge them closer to confronting their emotions. His teasing is particularly merciless with Jack, often warning him with sly remarks like, “You’d better keep a close eye on your prey, or she might just wander into the lion’s den.” What exactly does he mean by that? Who knows…

Ace Trappola ❤️ and Deuce Spade ♠️:

Vic’s first friends at NRC, Ace and Deuce quickly became two of her closest companions. The trio spends much of their time hanging out and bantering, creating a dynamic full of playful teasing. Her provocations often escalate with Ace, leading to occasional spats, though they’re always quick to reconcile.

With Deuce, Vic adopts a softer, almost sisterly demeanor, though she doesn’t hold back from teasing him—just not as intensely as she does with Ace. Around them, Vic maintains her cool, tomboyish exterior but will sometimes show emotional vulnerability when she needs comfort or support. Ace, however, never misses a chance to mercilessly tease her about her crush on Jack, much to her frustration (and embarrassment).

Idia Shroud💀:

Vic and Idia became friends through the Board Game Club, bonding over their shared interests and similarities. During club activities, they often team up to gently? bully and bicker with Azul, much to their mutual amusement. While Vic enjoys their camaraderie, their interactions mostly happen through DMs, as Idia’s shut-in nature makes face-to-face meetings rare—despite her frequent insistence that they hang out more in person.

Idia has developed a crush on her, which makes him even more hesitant to meet up outside of the club. He’s painfully aware (and secretly salty) about her preference for the athletic types in Savanaclaw, which makes his hopes—if he had any—practically nonexistent. For now, he keeps his feelings to himself, hoping to drown them. Vic, ever the supportive friend, often encourages him and occasionally flirts or gets touchy to tease him, delighting in his flustered reactions. Is she aware of his feelings? Who can say...

Azul Ashengrotto 🐙:

Vic initially had a strong dislike for Azul, finding his sweet-talking, calculating nature, and tendency to demand repayment for even the smallest favors uncomfortably reminiscent of her old classmates. She was openly hostile toward him, often meeting his charm with sharp-tongued, vulgar retorts. Yet, Azul remained undeterred.

Over time, as they spent more moments together in the Board Game Club, their constant bickering and competitive banter began to grow on her, almost without her noticing. She realized Azul was more "relaxed" during club activities, which made him easier to talk to. Vic now views him as a sort of rival, someone who challenges her wit and strategies, though neither likes to show vulnerability or weakness around the other.

If asked whether they’re friends, Vic will promptly deny it with a firm “no,” while Azul confidently responds with a smug “yes.” Despite their clashing personalities and opposing morals, they quietly look out for each other in their own way—remembering birthdays, exchanging souvenirs, and occasionally offering subtle gestures of support. Deep down, Vic knows Azul is an important friend, but she’d rather swallow a rock than admit it. Tsuntsun

Jamil Viper 🐍:

Vic harbors a superficial, puppy-like crush on Jamil, idolizing him and finding everything he does impossibly cool or impressive. Jamil, however, doesn’t seem to return her affections—or trust her, for that matter. He usually cuts her off with polite but firm indifference, which only seems to intensify her fascination, much to his exasperation. To Jamil’s dismay, Vic sighs dreamily whenever he’s cold or sharp-tongued with her (masochist much??) but gets utterly confused and flustered when he shows any hint of worry or care for her.

While Jamil would never admit it, he doesn’t entirely dislike her attention. Her admiration strokes his ego, and perhaps—just perhaps—he’s considering how he might use it to his advantage... t this doesn't seem very healthy...

Rook Hunt 🏹:

Like most people, Vic initially felt uneasy around Rook’s overly flamboyant and romantic demeanor. She couldn’t understand his fascination with her or his flowery praise, often responding to his compliments with pragmatic retorts or modest deflections. However, as time passed and she recognized the sincerity behind his words of encouragement, her wariness faded, and she began to trust him more.

Knowing it’s nearly impossible to keep secrets from Rook, Vic sometimes reluctantly vents her frustrations and insecurities to him. In turn, he offers thoughtful advice and unwavering emotional support. He nicknames her “Mademoiselle Fantôme” (ghost) and seems to see right through her composed exterior.

Like Leona, he’s aware there’s more to her than meets the eye and enjoys analyzing her hidden depths. Rook takes particular delight in evoking various reactions from Vic, describing her as a “kitten with hidden claws,” always intrigued by her blend of aloofness and fire.

Trivia:

While Vic appears tomboyish and sisterly with the first years, Jack is the exception. Around him, she’s notably sweeter and more bashful.

The more nervous or flustered she becomes, the higher-pitched (and more pathetic) her voice gets.

Vic used to be close with her older sister, a prosecutor. Her strong sense of justice and argumentative nature were heavily influenced by her sibling.

When heated, Vic becomes highly argumentative, delivering well-constructed, logical points to dismantle her opponent’s stance—a rare display of bold confidence.

Her dream is to become a detective/investigator.

Vic doesn’t get angry often, but when she does, it’s described as a “cold, merciless ire with sharp words that could make a grown man cry” (Ace’s words).

Though she’s a bit of a coward and dislikes confrontation, her quick thinking and improvisation often help her slip out of sticky situations. (Both Leona and Rook take notes on her sharp survival instinct.)

Despite her unassuming appearance, Vic has surprising leg strength and flexibility from self-defense classes she took as a child. She claims she’s rusty and fell out of practice for the most part, but her kicks prove otherwise.

Her birthday (February 4) is the same as Cater’s, so their celebrations are often combined in Heartslabyul. Cater affectionately calls her his “twinsie” and refers to her as “cute lil sis.”

Floyd nicknames her “Axolotl” and teases her relentlessly about her height. He especially enjoys being overly touchy with her in Jack’s presence.

Vic occasionally treats herself to Mostro Lounge visits to gossip with Jade, often about Azul’s defeats in the board game club. Jade uses this intel to tease and blackmail Azul later.

The Light Music Club adores pampering her and repeatedly begs her to join as a singer, but she always flusteredly declines.

Like Ace, Vic can be mischievous and a bit greedy. She shamelessly accepts Kalim’s generous offers of money (though she hopes Jack doesn’t find out...)

Vil intimidates her to no end with his sharp gaze, but she secretly admires him and dreams of having him give her a makeover someday. Rook frequently (and gleefully) tries to push her to approach Vil, much to her horror.

Malleus believes they are closer friends than they actually are, often due to misinterpreting her words and actions. Vic, too kind or maybe scared to correct him, finds herself roped into his gargoyle monologues during their awkward little outings.

[n4391]

(σ▵σ) Tiniest Archons... Who are you taking with you?!

[fear-no-mort]

favourite thing: his new habit of saying uhuh/mhm and also this

[charlietheepicwriter7]

I have an idea for a fic, but it feels very complicated.

So, it's one of those "Dan gets redeemed early, Dani is Ellie and has a sibling relationship with Danny and Jazz, the Fentons know and approve" fics when Bad Stuff happens. Maybe GiW led by Vlad manage to start the apocalypse, something like that, but the Fentons are dead and now Danny, Jazz, Ellie, Dan, Tucker and Sam are alone against everything as the world finally breaks-

Only for Clockwork to stop everything. He didn't want to stop the apocalypse (what is it but a new beginning) but he does care for the family, in his own way. And suddenly, everyone wakes up.

Sam and Tucker are alone in Amity Park, with no sign of the Fentons anywhere.

Jazz is sharing a rundown dorm room in Gotham, when she'd been a Yale student, with a new last name and mysterious connection to the city's underworld.

Ellie is trapped in Vlad's Gotham penthouse, stuck playing house with the man because

Danny is bedbound with a vivisection scar on his chest and in Vlad's custody.

And Dan? In maximum security prison for the violent murders of Jack and Maddie Fenton.

[demaparbat-hp]

“Zuko?” Ming searched for the Prince in his silence. He was staring intently out of the window, mouth blown wide open, eyes distant and awed and sincere. Oh. His whisper was a fragile, breathless thing.

“We're here.”

Ming’s doubts and concerns are hers alone, but that doesn't mean the rest of the Crew doesn't share them. This sudden mission, Zuko's change in attitude, his obsession with the Water Tribes...

Ming tries to discover the root of it all in For the Spirits Chapter VIII: Make You Stay, but will Zuko let her in?

[front-facing-pokemon]

[reineydraws]

had to draw this to understand the way i feel about him now that the manga's ended. 🥲 on that note: if you like hawks and his ending, maybe don't read my tags lol. it's not bashing (imo) but they're not v nice. 😅

bg + unobstructed pose under the cut!

his expression's a lil different 'cuz i only changed the merged layer, all the lighting effects already flattened onto it. 💀 alas.

[pepperpixel]

Initial drawings of that old man… I literally, I haven’t finished reading the book of bill yet!!! I had to stop and take a break for a week to feverishly draw fanart of myself petting fords floofy hair and giving him attention and shit…!!!! The urge was too great….!! I’ve literally. I had a crush on this guy the instant he was first REVEALED in the show, but I did not have the artistic prowess to draw good looking old men back then… but I do now… thank god… thank fucking god

[bryan360]

I take it all back after seeing this new character reveal already. Just months ago where I’d posted my thoughts for suppose fake leak from other person’s YT channel.

Regardless, it’s good of having the masked superhero crime fighter joining the fray. Who knows if there’s any room for other overrated reps in the future.

Tagged: @murumokirby360 @carmenramcat @alexander1301 @rafacaz4lisam2k4 @paektu

[artsyaprilmr]

i call this color "inquisitor's green"

[hotdogmchiggin]

Aw shit they put the horrors of late stage capitalism into my Pokémon Mystery Dungeon 😔

(Mostly) Based on the mouthwashing dev QnA about each character’s favorite Pokémon. Couldn’t get the idea of throwing them into PMD out of my head.

Typical job at the Poke Express Guild:

Some more bonus drawings below

Jimmy secretly wishes he was a mega rayquaza but he’s just a poser who’s obsessed with pikachu’s popularity and position as the mascot. So. A mimikyu.

Daisuke is a zorua because it’s the closest to weregarurumon and I think it matches his vibes. Just a guy who causes a little bit o mischief here n there :)

I did make Daisukes weregarurumon wishes come true (No mega rayquaza for jim)

I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do with the background so I threw them into the dungeon. WOE upon ye