#oc backstory; clearing the fog

[saints-wrapped-in-plastic]

LORE FILES

HARPER NOONSTAR aka KOTO NUNSUTA [Koto Nunsuta is Harper Noonstar in Japanese.] {Known} Name: Harper Alias: Koto, Harp, Harper Age: [Unknown] Species: Nephilim [Angel x Human] Gender: Female Height: 5'3 Eye Color: Black [gray sclera, black irises] {Known} Abilities: Shape-shifting, teleportation, flight, and night vision. Mother: Calliope Noonstar, an archangel created to replace Lucifer as the guardian of Imagination and Joy. She was wed to a seraphim named Malakiel, who was adorned her protector. However, Malakiel did not truly love her, and the marriage was unfulfilling. She began sneaking to Earth despite warnings, falling in love with a Japanese man named Joyoki. Father: Joyoki Akarui, a Japanese potter and scholar whom worked for the Emperor of the time. He fell for Calliope (under the name Kariope) when she entered his shop in her human disguise, and began frequenting it, at first wishing to explore his methods, and then wishing to see him. They met during the Nara period, and Koto was born during the Heian period, the Golden Age of the classical Japanese empire.

AU 1: HEAVENSENT In this AU, Calliope was not caught with Joyoki. She was wed to him, however, once she found she was with child, she tricked Malakiel into thinking it was his. Calliope birthed the child, left it in heaven, and then fled to Hell to live with her lover, however, they were both slain during extermination. In this AU, she was raised in Heaven by Malakiel and the Seraphim.

AU 2: HELLBOUND

In this AU, Calliope was caught with Joyoki in the human realm and he was killed by Malakiel and sentenced to Hell. Calliope is locked in heaven, but she is able to hide her pregnancy with her heavenly powers, escape from Heaven, and give her baby to her lover before returning to Hell, knowing she would be punished severely. Calliope is currently locked in Limbo. In this AU, Harper was raised in Hell by her father before he died during an extermination day. She was told the truth of her birth mother as he bled out. Realizing her powers, she eventually learned to teleport, even able to open portals to other Rings and Earth. AU 3: GUILT TRIP Has the same start as AU 1, however, during her residence in heaven, Michael, of whom she was well acquainted, became possessed by Roo. In order to drive her out, she sacrificed herself and took the demon on her, before killing herself, banishing Roo back to Hell. Lucifer, however, came across her drifting soul, and gave her a body, since her soul was half-human and half-angel, she had no body yet could not die. He gave her a special form. She can shape-shift from a fun-sized version of herself, three feet, with button eye-like irises and pink cheeks. When she is her normal size, which is about five foot two, she still has her pink cheeks, like Lucifers, but her eyes are just black instead of buttons, with x's in her irises. She has stitch marks around her wrists, neck and ankles. Her demon form is seven feet tall, with an elongated neck, stitched covering her body and face like patchwork, braided, cotton like hair that looks like woolen snakes, and large button eyes, with a threaded tail.

[starleska]

I am definitely here to find out more about your OC Harper if you wanna share 👀👀👀

oh my god yes yes yes thank you so much Jam i would LOVE to gush about Harper Spiel and their bizarre backstory, thank you so much 🙈💖 Doctor Who OCs are so fun to make!

my dear Harper's story begins right after the events of The Giggle! Harper Spiel is a 26-year-old ludologist, or games specialist: a former world champion in several board games who turned their fascination with games into a lucrative career. previously they worked with the British government investigating high-profile gambling rings and other criminal operations which involved gameplay mechanics! 👀

following The Giggle, UNIT wanted to find out all they could about the Toymaker, and so they hired Harper to create a full report on him...against The Doctor's wishes, and without his knowledge. during their research, Harper discovers that the Toymaker is not an isolated incident: he has cropped up in gaming lore and texts throughout history as a godlike entity no one can win against. most people would steer well clear...but Harper takes this as a challenge 🔥 so, they begin a series of experiments with the Toymaker's Toybox. Harper spends weeks trying to engage the Toymaker without opening the box, attempting to coax him into a game, but comes up short. until they have a mad idea! on their birthday, Harper brings a sand timer to the Toybox, and challenges the Toymaker to emerge before the sand runs out. they have no way of knowing if the game is accepted... until a bang!! then, a flash of light...and the vague image of a grin with far too many teeth, beaming through the fog. when Harper awakes, they are no longer in their own timeline. they are in 1984, in an empty lot where the UNIT building hasn't even been constructed yet! 😱 it takes a few days for the Doctor - specifically the Sixth Doctor - to find Harper, and it's because the TARDIS has become absolutely fixated on London in 1984 and he can't work out why. this leads him to Harper, who the Doctor recognises as a temporal anomaly: a living entity displaced in time who should not be able to exist in this reality, but has been rejected by their own. according to the Doctor, Harper's birthday - originally March 22nd, 1998 - is now March 22nd, 1956...which would make them 65 years old according to their original reality!! if not...that means they're minus 40 💀 the Doctor, horrified by this mess, takes Harper into the TARDIS and tries to bring them back to 2024...but the TARDIS nearly implodes! he then tries every workaround he knows, but something about the game Harper opened up with the Toymaker has caused their own timeline to shun them. like it or not, the only safe place for Harper to exist (at least without increasing timey-wimey shenanigans) is within the TARDIS 😉 so!! Harper gets stuck with the Sixth Doctor, to his chagrin and their delight. Harper is familiar with the Doctor, but only his most recent regenerations, and they take delight in playing off his bombastic, arrogant personality. they're always getting stuck into some part of the TARDIS they shouldn't be, or wandering off and nearly causing a category 5 space-time event. they're a magnet for disaster and time distortion, and it drives the Doctor mad! 🙈 but as funny as their relationship is, there is real grief here. the Doctor soon recognises Harper to be somewhat like him: a scientist whose fascination often overrides their emotions, so the process of understanding that they will never see their friends again (as they have no family to speak of) is tough. it doesn't take long for the Doctor to soften towards Harper...after all, Harper is something which the universe itself is trying to reject. who can relate more to that than the Sixth Doctor, whose regeneration was characterised by fear, anger and feeling like an alien in his own body? aaaand that's Harper Spiel!! unwitting companion to the Sixth Doctor and challenger of the Toymaker 🥰 their adventures would be characterised by them attempting to find some way back to Harper's original timeline safely, with Harper insisting they need to find the Toymaker to make it happen...😭

[consumeroflemoans]

Hello, it's me, one of the anons that put Vilidia scenarios into your askbox, I'm here once again, I came up with a Vilidia AU today while thinking about my own OC lore as one does

This does go back a bit because we are once again involving merfolk

So to get to the gist of it Idia is the keeper of a lightly cursed lighthouse out on the sea in a somewhat ambigious time period, the backstory I came up with for that one is that he and his brother who had spent their entire lifes in a small coastal town, gazing over the ocean together, dreaming and talking about the magical creatures and beings they had been told of in fables and read about in stories, imagening what it would be like to see the sunlight gleam off a mermaids shimmering scales, heroically resist a sirens song to stir your boat to safety or witness a sea monster winding its big body around underneath the waves

So they went out at night and untied one of the boats and tried to sail away into unexplored waters to discover things they've only fantasized of, but two children are as they find out suprisingly not enough to properly man a boat and they veer off course fast, it didn't matter if Idia had spent hours each night studying the constellations so he could navigate the two or if Ortho dedicated his free time to practicing all kinds of boating knots, they were both children and simply weren't strong enough to actually man a whole real boat on their own so they just kept drifting further out until the horizon was out of sight and all they could see anywhere was water

The next few weeks are painful as food dwindles, it keeps on raining and both their deck and they themselves get progressively more soaked, the clouds seem to swallow the sky up and they can't even tell anymore in which direction the tide is carrying them or even how long it's really been as it seems that everyday the fog gets thicker and all seems to be coated in an everpresent darkness, they brought more books than they did supplies and the absolute absence of anyone but the two is starting to gnaw at them

Eventually they get to meet one of the very myths they originally set out for, for the first time in who knows how long their boat bumps into something solid or rather something solid bumps into their boat, the water isn't clear enough to see much of anything, but when they look down eventually something breaks the surface and they see the scales of a sea monster, bigger than their entire boat, barnacles over its body and coral branches stuck in its finsIts not even the monster that really gets them, it tries, rams its head against the deck and the side of the ship and manages to damage the wood, though they're screaming and trying desperately to dodge the incoming battering they see a light in the distance, grab the steering wheel and use all their little child strength to take course, they get a fair bit closer, but eventually the monster lands good hit and the ship and it all goes sideways, they fall overboard

Idia wakes up coughing up water with someone repeatedly pushing down on his chest, when he comes to there's a stranger standing over him in a lightkeeper uniform and when he sits up the monster is slithering back down to the depths and Ortho is floating on top of the water

The lighthouse is situated in the middle of a piece of ocean where it's perpetually night and the water is haunted by creatures so thoroughly disturbing they should never ever be allowed to invade any other seas, it's pourpose is to both be a deterrent for sailors everywhere and for the keeper to keep track of everything

The position can't be kept by one person forever, but who can you pass it onto really when you're stuck in one place all alone with no one, fortunately for everyone who isn't you this place does something to the people that stay in it too long, borderline Immortality, merging with the things around you all that, you are allowed to "quit" once you have a suitable succesor and by suitable I mean anyone who's there and alive, just take the first guy you can get kinda deal

So Idia is sitting there with the a stranger who doesn't look entirely human, gets a manual thrown at him because if the keepers had anything it was time to kill, might as well do that and spare themselves the explanation, and a uniform much too big for him before he watches them walk into the ocean until they entirely dissapear

So now he's stuck in a lighthouse, he bothered to fish some of the books out of the water and dry them, some of the previous keepers left diaries and other stuff there, he's got a few of those ship in a bottle building kits which is kinda fun

And to boot the ghosts of those who did actually die there do get to stay trapped too so he's not all alone, he's got a bunch of ghosts of which most like to try clawing their way back to the mortal realm while screaming to be let out and also Orthos ghost is there too

Idia gets older, eventually the uniform starts to fit and it seems to him he looks progressively weirder each time he happens to walk past a mirrorFor all that it is supposed to be the most dangerous place in the entire sea, it's kind of calm honestly

And then someone crashes on the little island, finally Vil arrives in the story

A merman who got just a little lost to say the least

He's still an actor, just underwater and if I could have a little fun and continue the with something more appropriate to the very vague time period than movies and also tie into the whole singing thing often associated with merfolk I'd like to put him into opera

He just got out of rehearsal and god was it bad, the orchestra kept fucking up and his co-actors didn't even bother memorizing their parts and he didn't even manage to secure the role he wanted

It's one of his very favourite operas, one near and dear to his hard with almost every line memorized and it needs to be a perfect performance, but it can't be if everyone else keeps fucking it up! He might as well just do it all on his own, let him sing every role in the play, it can only get better from whatever downright insulting performance these idiots are pulling out of their asses

Undecided, but I think it could be intresting to do a mirror thing in which said opera is the tale of the lighthouse keeper in comparison to Idias myths of merfolk, even if the story is presumably highly altered, but a tale of a man who trapped the beasts of the sea and dutifully guards them to bring safety to all residents of the deep blue, engaged in a constant battle with the true leviathans of the ocean in a seemingly sisyphean attempt to beat them and be free

Truly it is incredible how he sticks to a position he derives no joy from for the good of others, never moving from his post or despairing and Vil cannot help but admire the tenacity of never stopping his fight, never giving up on the possibility of success, that he might one day be able to do what he wants if he keeps doing what he must until he succeeds, no he's not projecting, he's just right

He goes on a swim to clear his thoughts and gets caught in a stream he's pulled towards a dark part of the ocean with seemingly no ground in sight

He tried his best to fend off whatever beast tried to get to him, trying to hit them away with the fins on his tail, but the only escape he found was at the light house and now he's beachedIs Idia mildly pissed that the first person who ever survived entering during his time in as the keeper is not someone he can push into the job? Maybe

Yes, it's a bad and mean and how it happened to him still haunts him sometimes, there's a nagging guilt when the thought of quitting crosses his mind, but it's been like eight years and he feels like he's done his time and really he just wants to be over with this, is that so wrong?

But also, oh god... It's a merman, it's one of the very things he wanted to see with Ortho way back then, whose little ghost is so excited by the way, one of the myths he's been reading on repeat for years, honestly probably his favourite one

Pages upon pages describing the colorful scales of merfolk, their beautiful voices and how their hair would flow along with their movements as they swam

He had though the books grew stale after a while, but looking at Vil before him he almost feels like he could write a new one all by himself just from looking at him, an entire series, maybe a whole library

But Vil gets put into some kind of big water container, maybe in a bathtub of olden times, the classic

Things happen now, Idia gets his first face to face talk in almost a decade to the pretty, pretty merman and he sooooo nails it (lie)Vil is ever so slightly horrified at Idias somewhat neglient treatment of the position and slowly also comes to realize that having to suffer through duty isn't really something to be strived for

Normally you cannot leave the lighthouse zone once you came in and Idia may have given up trying to get out through any other way than walking into the waves, but Vil hasn't and won't, Idia is just a tad bitter that he wants to leave him alone again, maybe drags his feet on the whole escape a little, but he's been here for so long and he knows how much it sucks and he just... He can't do that to Vil, he just can't

I'm honestly very tempted to say, Vil gets out and they never see each other again and they're both so sad and melancholic and the stories in which they found comfort and inspiration take on a whole new level of meaning, a yearning and a fondness and a memory and a way to pay respect, Idia draws Vil into the pictures of his book, Vil changes the costuming of the keeper to resemble Idia and makes just ever so slight changes to the script, no one knows why he wants them to have an odd passion for little boat puzzles

And at this point I don't really have an idea, but I'll keep talking anyway because I'm not sure if full tragedy is the thing and I want to give some semblance of an alternative conclusion

There's a few attempts and a lot of planning, but Idia manages to distract and fend off some of the monsters so Vil gets to swim out, guided by the lighthouse, what they came up with were a few smaller mechanical paddle boats, from Idia, that have a liquid scent attached to them, from Vil, to simulate people in the water because it's the best I can think of right now, but if Idia thinks that's where things end oooooh, he's sorely mistaken

Though another struggle might be actually convincing Idia that he should leave at all because yeah, he doesn't like it, but what else does he have? I mean, Ortho's there too kinda and he can't just leave him and even if he could he's been gone for so long, he doesn't know where he came from anymore and he missed so much that he doesn't feel he can make up for, but doesn't mean he can't have a future and all that, Vil is going to try his absolute hardest to get him out

Also maybe, there's a little radio in the lighthouse that was constant static because it never had any kind of connection, hard to get when you're where Idia is, but with a lot of fiddling around and an actual knowledge of its existence an outside connection is established and coincidentally Vil starts broadcasting his singing after he comes back from his brief stint of being missing

Well then, goodbye

ANON.

ANON WHEN I GET YOU ANON.

AUGH THIS JUST REMINDS ME OF THE MYTH OF CALYPSO.

Where as punishment she’s trapped on the island of Ogygia with no way to really escape. And also being cursed to fall in love with anyone that washed up on her shores. Raaaah tying Greek mythology into any story with Idia my beloved.

This whole AU is honestly fascinating I want to read a 500k word fic on it this very second.

ALSO OMG VIL GETTING OUT WITH IDIA’S ASSISTANCE AND THEN JUST NEVER SEEING HIM AGAIN IS SO ODYSSEUS AND CALYPSO CODED

Someone stop me I swear

Pull me away

Aaaaaaaaaa

Also I am so fascinated by the underwater world you’re building here too. Like??? The sea monsters?? Having creatures of the depths the even the merfolk fear?? Also Vil still having an amazing singing voice and performing underwater is so iconic of him. He should have his tail draped in black pearls methinks.

ANYWAY

Them being apprehensive of each other only to eventually have to get to know one another because they’re the only real company they have. Vil can hardly stay in the dangerous waters outside, so he has to rely on his lighthouse keeper.

Also mgmmfmd my mind is going so many places but the thought that they both had idealized versions of each other in their mind. Their ideals are shattered, but they realize that they can relate to each other and even get along. They crack jokes and talk, making a short of light in this dreary place.

OMG

Idia letting Vil go and wanting him leave because he doesn’t want the new light in his life to be consumed by the darkness like he was long ago. He’s been the caretaker of this lighthouse for years. He’s faced grief and regret since he was a young child. But Vil isn’t like that. He’s a star, even underwater. He shines brightly in his performances and lights up a room with his song.

I like to think that Vil sometimes performs for Idia because he knows the lighthouse keeper truly appreciates it. Also his performances aren’t bogged down by worse performers around him.

And then Idia send him away, even though Vil doesn’t really want to leave him. He helps Vil escape so he can continue shining in the watery depths. He lets go of his only source of happiness because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it anymore. He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to Vil.

AAAAA MY THOUGHTS ARE SUCH A MESS BUT I AM DYING

[thygoddessouijathicc]

I feel like I should actually explain what Ouija is

So I’ve never really gone into what my sona/OC, Ouija is. It’s never really been relevant but she’s going to be in the big collab AU so I feel like it’s almost required I explain who she is, what she is, and what her backstory is.

Ouija is an eldritch being whose true form is incomprehensible and causes people to go insane. She came into being in an empty world called the crawlspace which manifested as a greyscale forest full of fog, dead trees that outwardly seem alive and tar. The exact place she came into being was the bottom of a dried up well she now treats as her home.

Being entirely isolated when she came into being she ended up lacking a lot of empathy and self awareness.

Her only form of interaction for most of her life was the ability to peer into any timeline, but never to directly interact. This eventually led to her taking her strange reptile-human hybrid form based on things she saw.

Ouija eventually gained more abilities, namely that she can venture into existing timelines source code, turn them into “Ouijaverses” connected directly to the crawlspace, and alter them fundamentally, which is what she did to the AU in the collab, a fact she isn’t exactly subtle or actually regretful about.

She’s not however actually that powerful. Ouija is only powerful in places the the crawlspace which she has almost complete control over, and universe source codes. And even then it’s not like she’s really that strong, just that she controls the area and can do some things.

No one but her is supposed to ever enter the crawlspace and when anyone accesses it, her powers go out of wack due to warping what she can and can’t do, and stress. When people are actually in the crawlspace, she’s far weaker and can easily be subdued. This means there is absolutely no point in which she’s actually a viable threat, unless she accesses your universes source code, which she can’t even do in other universes or when people from other universes are around.

It’s not clear how or why she actually exists, nor what caused it, she simply came into being at the same time as the crawlspace as a part of it.

She has no concern for others lives or feelings and frequently treats others like toys, and gets mad when she doesn’t get her way.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

☀️ Sun - What's your favorite part of your WIP?

🌫 Fog - What was the hardest part of your WIP to write?

🌌 Clear Skies - How long have you been writing your current WIP?

:3

Heyyy thanks for the ask! (From this weather ask game)

☀️ Sun - What's your favorite part of your WIP?

Oh, the characters! I love my OCs so much. I love developing them, I love building their home lives. I love figuring out their interests. Their quirks. I love when they can just take over a scene. This is true for both TSP and SOTL.

🌫 Fog - What was the hardest part of your WIP to write?

I actually answered this here for TSP. Short version is the themes.

For SOTL, it's coming up with a plot!

🌌 Clear Skies - How long have you been writing your current WIP?

TSP: Eleven years. TSP's intro post has the backstory and draft one linked, if you want to check that out!

SOTL: Well, my first memory of wanting to write a fairy tale retelling was 10 years ago. Wrote it down for the first time like 7-8 years ago. However, it did not become SOTL until a little over three years ago.

Thanks for stopping by!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

[moosescribbles]

Continuing War for Rayuba look back with Round 1! Grand Battle vs Quicksilver

So, W4R opened up "Grand Battles", a chance for people not in the 1v1 rounds to contribute to the team effort. Honestly I think that's why W4R had a real staying power outisde of just being team based with a great community, you wouldn't lose out on chances to tell your story. I imagine it was hell for the judges, it just resulted in so many more comics, I cannot thank them enough for sticking with it. Abbadon, Study, Felix From the bottom of my heart, thank you. While I don't dain to think anyone reading this hasn't heard of these people, I feel insensire not linking to their sites at the very least:

https://killsixbilliondemons.com/

https://www.thestudyofmonsters.com/

https://adistantsky.com

So on to the actual round reflection, I poked about the discord and struck up with Bobert, who is now the approximate of my pokemon rival, I do just keep defaulting to going after him if I draw a blank on wanting an OC to draw. The comic itself, eight pages in 2 weeks, after the intro of 2 pages, happy with that, even if the backgrounds are incredibly flat, poses are flat, I leaned (and still do tbh) on 3d models for poses, . Also two things that ultimately didn't go anywhere, backstory, because man it's hard to do 2 characters and weave in flashbacks and backstory, so it kinda fell aside. and the use of the Art of K6BD not being a true heal, I did have plans that continues into round 2 a little, but then I lost round 3 in a way that yanked the direction of Fog about. but more on that later.

Also yay storytelling the opponent with a huge monologue. Despite all this I do still like this comic, like 8 pages of full colour after having never done a comic past the intro, sitting down and completing an art project? I mean if you look at the pre W4R blog posts, it is so often unfinished works.

The comic is also very direct, the dialogue is clear, even if I hadn't fiogured out how to center things yet, so often I find people starting comics with OCTs who hand write, or choose a small font, there's like specific things in the language of comics vs other art that I think I had a good grasp on. This was a finished comic, something not everyone managed, and it caught the eye of the judges because next round, things really kicked off.

[cherryrollarts]

Von Kaiser Headcanon Post

Been wanting to share all my Kaiser headcanons and also just kinda wanted a place to put them so I could look at them when needed. However, here is somewhat of a masterpost for all my Kaiser headcanons, and the backstory I wrote for him.

I should explain that my canon for the Punch-Out!! lore is the timeline being in somewhat modern day but with the early 2000s/late 90s aesthetic.

Putting a TW bc there are some heavy topics, as well as I'll be putting everything under a cut because there's a lot, enjoy!

TW: mentions of abuse, war, alcohol, and violence

So, firstly, I'd like to put down that I do have a Punch-Out!! oc who is one of Kaiser's closest friends, however, I will most likely not talk abt him in this post, as this is just pertaining to Kaiser only.

Anyways, lets start with his backstory that I have written up!

-Kaiser was an only child born from a somewhat uneasy marriage. Kaiser was raised fairly strictly by both his father and mother and never really got along too well with others, he has always been a bit rowdy and overly confident which was most likely his way of dealing with the beatings and verbal harassment he received from, primarily, his father. He was taught this was to build character and make him stronger and become a good man in the future. However, this has pretty obviously done the opposite. Von Kaiser was fairly young when his father entered the war and soon after he was forced to do all the jobs his father had done at home. The war lasted about 5 years and by the end of it, his mother and him had received the news that Kaiser's father had died. His mother became incredibly strict and even more aggressive and careless than his father had been. He was trained to become a passionate soldier of a person. To value serving others, to respect authority and be willing to take punishment and pain for the good of the country, for the good of his family. Kaiser was about 17 when he had gotten a job and realized how little his social skills had improved. He had an incredibly hard time completing tasks and talking to others and oftentimes came off as rude, loud, brass and aggressive. No matter how hard he tried he never managed to make many friends. As he began his early 20s Germany had gotten into another war and he was expected to serve. He was proud to be of use to his country and was hungry to be on the battlefield. But as we all know, war isn't playful and is hardly ever fair. Kaiser was returned home, one of the lucky ones, but he was not the same man as before. He struggled more than ever to keep conversations, make connections and complete basic social tasks. His eyes had gone foggy, his body beyond tired and his mind more than clouded. Even so he powered on. He was incredibly grateful to be alive, he shouldn't have been acting so immature and childish, what is this worry that fogged his mind? It’s simply cowardice, it was pathetic for a man like him to be behaving in such a way. Disgusting even. All these horribly damaging ideas rang in his head, he had been told them from strangers, from acquaintances and especially from his mother. A man cannot cope like this, so he turned to alcohol to numb his thoughts. Although it had never grown into addiction, he still drank heavily during this time. 10 years of this pain, of this mental anguish poisoning not only his emotions toward himself but toward his mother. Even so, he could never stand up to that woman. She had the power to make him collapse and beg for forgiveness, cry for hours and endure the beatings she’d give him. This furthered his ptsd, he hadn’t ever been diagnosed until much later but it was clear he was suffering. As years went on, he managed to find work and was fairly well off. A former soldier had pointed him toward the military academy and suggested he work as a boxing instructor for the children at the base. He agreed, eager to help children become as disciplined and well taught as him! He was an encouraging teacher, though fairly strict. He found joy in his work for once, and was happy to do this for years. Soon after, his own skills were noticed by many and he was frequently told to try out for the WVBA. Kaiser was excited and cocky, ready to show off his skills and ride to the top. However, despite his training he only managed to secure a spot as #2 in the Minor Circuit. This initially bothered him, but he soon realized it gave him the ability to continue teaching the boxing course at the academy. He moved to Berlin shortly before joining the WVBA and has grown distant from his mother. -

There it is! I have more headcanons going into this, but I wanna explain a few points in his backstory.

-Kaiser's real name is Hans Braun.

-His mother and father had married fairly early in their lives, early 20s, and had Kaiser a year after that. Although Kaiser is in his 40s, his mother is only in her 60s.

-Kaiser was diagnosed with PTSD far into his life, I'd say when he was in his mid/late 30s. He has learned many healthy coping mechanisms, but sometimes he struggles, of course.

-Really doesn't mind being in the rank he is now. he's happy for doing all he can and is excited that this gives him more time to teach his students. He loves finding purpose in teaching these children about self defense than his professional career.

-Due to his personality and such, it was a bit hard for him to make friends in the WVBA, though Soda and Disco Kid/the rest of the Minor Circuit have always been very kind to him, moreso Soda.

Now onto other headcanons that don't have a place in his backstory.

-Kaiser is autistic. He was diagnosed after his PTSD diagnosis and he struggled at first with learning and coming to terms with it, but now he's relatively okay with it. Still learning.

-Some art illustrating his stimming traits and such, most are based off in-game animations from his Wii appearence. His special interests are wwii russian and german tanks, as well as, combat boots. (reminder to not infantalize him by calling his stimming 'cute' hes a grown man after all)

-Kaiser is Aro/Ace. Uses he/him pronouns. He has never really shown any interest in romantic or sexual relationships with anyone, and prefers to keep it that way. He likes training a fair bit more.

-Genuinely cares for all of his boxing students and will happily pay out of pocket for any supplies or tools needed for classes. He understands students could be dealign with anything and is understanding to all's trials. Is very accomodating.

-He can cook. Barely. Same goes for singing. His cooking ability was stoked by his students, so now he makes them fresh soups in the winter and refreshing salads in the summer. Though he can sing fairly okay in some instances, he doesn't ever really enjoy it.

-Reads a quite a lot, loves literature especially historical nonfiction. Enjoys information based texts rather than personal accounts.

-Isn't good at using the internet, but has a good grasp on using his dinky little phone, isn't too active on social media or anything.

This should be it for now, I will add anything that I find interesting to add or talk about, feel free to ask questions abt all this too!! Thank you for reading I know I wrote a lot, I'm hoping to do something like this for other boxers I love!!

[emotionalcello-makefanfics]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Tamara Fox, Some OC for cuteness Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Sickfic, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Tim Drake is Not Red Robin, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Crying, so much crying, Love Confessions, Cheesy, God it's so cheesy, Cringe, So sweet so cheesy so angsty that you'll cringe, Tim Drake-centric, some Jason POV tho, A wild X-men appereance, I know they're not the same universe but I'm running out of character and running out of creativity, So yeah X-men characters and vaugly their mansion/orphanage too, Bruce Wayne Bashing, Some things that I don't put down bcs it'll be a spoiler, Smoking, Implied/Referenced Sex, POV from a cat????, The Clichést Cliché that ever Cliché, Cliche Summary:

They meet again on a rooftop after ten years. They're different now, and things are not the same. It's all too late. Chapter 1 sneakpeek

“Don’t jump.”

Sighing exasperatedly, Tim puts down his cigarette-clutching fingers and drags his eyes to the source of the voice. His gelled-back hair loses its hold and a strand of ear-length bangs falls to his vision.

Sadly, without seeing him and just from the voice, Tim knows exactly who this person is. One of the Bat franchise, and it just had to be the Red Hood variation, fucking great. Out of all time, it has to be tonight. The world is playing a joke on him.

Tim is sitting hunched on the rooftop’s edge, wishing he’d have some peace and quiet for once, and of course one of these pestering bats just has to bug him at the worst time. Yet, it’s actually pretty rare for Red Hood to patrol Gotham lately, and Tim curses up a storm in his mind. Out of all the days, it just has to be fucking tonight.

No, Tim is not having it.

“This man has too much to do tomorrow to jump.” Tim looks away, getting a light from his suit.

One hand lighting another one of his death stick, and the other unbuttoning his suit and loosens his tie. After a puff and two, Tim drags in and keeps the smoke in, letting his nerves uncoil. Seems like it doesn’t work that well when the big bad shadow of a vigilante doesn’t move from the corner of his eyes.

“I’m not jumping, go away, I can’t deal with you tonight,” Tim says as he sighs the smoke away to the red polluted sky, thinking the man must be deaf or just not convinced. Maybe the latter, the bats are famous for their tact after all. People say they’re purely human. Seeing Red hood’s physique, maybe this one becomes meta-human at some point.

Tim looks the other way so the vigilante is completely out of his vision, to make a point that he’s not having this conversation. He looks to the city, engulfed by the red sky. It’s bright since this building is at the heart of the city, where the higher caste of Gothamites live and prosper. You can see the border around the bright side of the city where the lights stop dead and darkness begins. The poor side of the city. The gap is ghastly, it’s what makes Gotham what it is.

Tim is not surprised but highly disappointed when he hears shuffling instead, and when he looks at where the tall brick wall of a man, he already sits down next to him. Red Hood keeps a respectable distance though, at least he has that much of a tact.

Red Hood hooks his fingers inside his helmet, does some finger shimmy, and the red shiny mask helmet is off. His face is still covered by a domino mask, his hair looks damp, and his gloved hands rake his jet black hair back. Curls bounce to his forehead, sighing a fog, the only indication that the weather is reaching the end of the year. In turn, Tim felt his cleanly shaved nape chilled.

From inside the leather jacket, the vigilante digs to look for something, and that’s when Tim realized he’s been looking at the cuts on Red Hood’s exposed forearms from the folded sleeves. Very thick and muscled forearms. This guy either lifts all day or a meta-human, not that Tim cares anymore.

“Got a light?” Red says, plush lips smirking.

Tim sighs, guess he has company today. He digs into his suit and throws him his lighter. The masked man inspects it and Tim rolls his eyes. The lighter is a metal one that you flip, and on it engraved ‘From my heart with love, that this one lasts longer, Tam.’

“A sweetheart of yours?” Says the man, the second sentence he speaks, and Tim doesn’t recognize the voice. Deep, gravely, the typical voice of someone that smokes.

Red Hood extends his hand to give back the lighter to Tim instead of throwing it, must’ve thought it’s special.

“Kind of,” Tim says, receiving the lighter.

Red Hood drags in, keeps the smoke in, “Why kind of?” and sighs.

“Never established the relationship.”

“Commitment issues?”

Tim quirks an eyebrow at the man, sitting just as hunched as him. There’s a pillar beside Tim, and he lays his back there, thinking whether or not he should engage in this conversation. Eh, why not right? It’s not like it’s confidential information, and Tim is just so tired of caring about social politics.

“I was too late,” Tim says. It’s not as painful to say now, but lately, Tim has been numb. He’s been numb for years. Tim’s gay, or so he thought. When he began to really love her, she’s gone from him.

“Girl got another guy?” Red Hood teases.

“Girl got dead,” Tim deadpans. The smile dropped from the vigilante’s mouth, and if only he can see his eyes, panic would look funny on the all-powerful Bat. But, no, Tim can see his tell by the tapping hands.

“Ah fuck, sorry.”

Tim chuckles at the spectacle of an awkward vigilante. Maybe this night won’t be so bad after all.

“Relax, I’m not too sad about it now, it was years ago.”

It’s hard to predict Red’s expression with that domino mask that takes his cheekbones and half his forehead, but Tim’s pretty sure the twist on that mouth means his opinion of Tim isn’t good. Well, not that Tim cares.

“How did she die?”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Tim put the filter on his lips and drags in as deep as he can. Too deep, and Tim coughs hard, once and twice that his vision blurs. Her face comes to vision, the morbidity of her expression tips Tim’s nerves off balance. Tim quickly takes another deep drag, “She was in the Joker’s way.”

At the name, Red Hood snaps his face at Tim. Slowly, languidly, Tim looks back. The vigilante clenched jaw and balled fists look like he’s about to kill somebody. Tim knows that a few years ago Red Hood kidnapped Joker, didn’t kill him, and just vanished before popping up again to have a vendetta against Batman. What a load of drama those bunch.

This also means that Tim knows exactly who this person is. Suddenly the voice registers, the familiar jaw, the soft fucking tone.

He blames it on the nicotine that his heart is calmer than he’d like, his mind still not on overdrive, still plagued with Tam’s face as she died in front of him. He’d breathe smoke instead of oxygen if he could. God he wished he’d breathe smoke from now on. Why does it have to be today? One grace from the universe is that Tim -for some reason- feels amused instead of dread.

“You look like you’re about to kill somebody, Red,” Tim says, can’t help the ease and sass in his voice. Tim lays back hunched, crosses his legs. “I thought you let go of your vendetta against the Joker.”

“Where do you hear that bullshit?” Redhood snaps and Tim can’t help but let go another chuckle.

“People talk, words get around,” Tim says.

“Then they’re far off the truth,” Red hisses before dragging in his cig.

“Yet the Joker still roams.”

“Ain’t my call.”

“Is it the big bat daddy calls?”

Red Hood splutters at the name and Tim smirks evilly at the reaction. “Ew, don’t call him that!”

“I can call that higher-than-thou furry hero wannabe anything I want,” Tim spits bitterly, looking out to the city. Sometimes when he’s really lucky, he’ll catch one of the bats twirling in the sky, and now one of ‘em is sitting beside him, but sadly it’s not the most shocking knowledge he has today. “One of these days it’s going to be my turn.”

“What?”

“Dying in the collision of mad men’s evil master plan you refuse to get rid of.”

“Ck, I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”

“Sorry then, I don’t mean to insinuate anything. This is me telling you loud and clear that you’re all cowards for not killing these maniacs that kill us like ants when you have the power to stop them.” Tim’s voice is even and chill, it did not raise a tone, but it reduces the bulk of a man beside him to still. “Some of us rooted for you when you caught the Joker, and your reputation gives us high hopes that it’ll be the last of him. Then he showed up again.” Tim feels the lighter in his pocket burn, “Then Tam died.”

Tim pumps his lung full of smokes, keeping it in there so that the clawing gloom will die before it takes roots.

“I almost did kill him, Batman stopped me,” the gravel voice says lowly.

Tim feels himself stiffens, now that’s something he doesn’t know. His eyes scan the hunched vigilante, trying to find any sign of a lie, there’s none.

“Shit,” Tim curses, sighing up smoke and quickly takes a deep drag in. “Fuck Batman.”

For the first time, Tim hears Red chuckle, “Yeah, fuck him.”

“Still your family though, right?” Tim says, earning what he thinks is a glare, who would fucking know with that mask. “Why else would you stay in his line?”

Red Hood looks away, not answering.

“Guess I understand. Proving something to someone.”

Red scoffs, “Would you?”

“You know who I am.”

“Yeah, not your story.”

Tim scoffs at the obvious lie, “Look it up. I have better things to do than telling you my backstory that’s a google search away.”

Tim Drake. Son of the CEOs of Drake Industries. Running smoothly since ever he becomes the COO. Yada yada, young and successful, yada yada, has the reputation to chew out the reporters and a resting bitch face, all that shit. Tim doesn’t have the best bedside manners, but when it comes to business, Tim gets things done, and his business partners know to swallow their pride for a potential too stupid to missed just because Tim has fangs.

“I dunno, you’re pretty mysterious in the eye of the media,” Red says.

“Because they’re nosy pricks and not worth my time when they’re asking me about rumors of my flings.”

“They’re not true?”

“What the fuck are you? Does TMZ sent you?”

“Good point, never mind.”

They let the quiet settle in, and Tim isn’t too bothered by the company so much. The red amber eats to his filter. Tim puts out the light and puts the bud back inside the pack while he gets another one. He looks down at his light, which reminded him of Tam. Damn, she was such a good assistant, she’s also his best friend but a damn better assistant. Tim doesn’t let himself think about it.

He lights another, and puffs.

“Shouldn’t you be patroling?” Tim says before he can stop himself.

“Nah, not here to patrol, just some errands.”

“Don’t mind me. I’m not jumping.”

“No, I know that,” Red says, tone softer that Tim narrows his eyes at him.

“Lonely?” Tim teases, putting the filter in his lips while locking eyes to the pair of white lenses.

Red shrugs, “Just wanna kill time with someone that doesn’t wear one of these,” he says, tapping to his domino mask.

Tim hums imagining himself with his family, “Yeah, me too, I’d take a vigilante franchise over family dinner anytime.”

“Aww,” Red surprisingly coos, making Tim flustered.

“Don’t get it twisted, my family sets a pretty low bar for good company.”

“I can say the same, Timmy.”

Tim flinches, “I didn’t say you can call me Timmy.”

“What about friends then?” Red follows up, ignoring him.

“Joker killed my only best friend. Oh god, stop making that face, everyone I know got someone they know killed by the Joker, or Bane, or.... shit just those freaks.”

“Doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I don’t care what you feel.”

“I’m wounded,” Red says in that joking ‘boo-hoo’ voice but it was the last thing to snap Tim’s patience completely. He hates this casual conversation as if nothing happened.

“I’m not jumping, and I know you’re not here just to talk to some random civilian. You know who I am, so say what you wanna say and go,” Tim inhales deeply after the low-toned rant, only to be met with another silence.

They stay quiet for a few whiles again. Smoking the tension away. After Tim’s cig burns halfway, his nerves calmed down. Then he realizes that Red is looking at him. Staring.

“What?” Tim says, sighing smoke.

“Would you kill Joker if you could?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Killing someone isn’t as easy as it sounds, especially if you did it before.”

“You underestimate my anger then.”

Red Hood goes still for what Tim is insinuating. His phone vibrates in his pocket. Tim gets it and his new assistant reminds him of a flight in an hour and he needs to be ready in half. Tim puts out his cig and pockets it.

As he stands up, he looks down at Red Hood, really looks at him. It reminded Tim of the time has passed. It’s been so long.

“Nothing to say?” Tim asks, he has an underlying tone of ‘last chance.’

“Thanks for the light.”

Tim clenches his jaw and breaths slowly. What did he expect? “You caught me at a bad time but it’s good to meet you again, Jason.”

When Tim walks away, his elbow is grabbed and he’s spun to face Jason in all his bulk. Looming over him with his height.

“You know who I am?” Red says with a threat in his voice that makes Tim wants to laugh.

“Are you really that surprised? Or did you forget me when you fucking died?” Tim smiles bitterly.

Moments passed, eyes on each other, chest to chest. The last time he sees Jason, Tim was staring at these white lenses too, and Jason was still as tall as him. At this close, Tim sees tiny tears that heal pale than the rest of his tan skin, bulked up body looming over him that used to be similar to his. For anyone, Tim had two best friends, Robin and Jason Wayne-Todd, he had known the two are the same. Seems like Jason doesn’t.

Doesn’t matter now. Everything said and done. Too late.

“Say your goodbyes now,” Tim says, because why else would his childhood friend pops back again after a decade of not saying anything after he returned to life. Tim doesn’t realize it’ll hurt this bad though. Missing Tam doesn’t hurt this bad.

Perhaps it was because the scar never healed right, but he still thinks of Jason like a big chunk of him that’s been torn away forcefully, even now.

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally says, low and guilty, as he should be, but it irks Tim to no end.

“I lost you, and when you’re back you didn’t tell me,” Tim says, his voice cracks and he curses it to hell. Red Hood’s been around for years, and Jason never came to Tim to say he’s alive.  “If you have nothing else to say, let go of me.”

“I didn’t know that you knew.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you know I was Robin... Did you know... everyone?”

Tim rolls his eyes, “Yes.” Gloved hands still on his elbow, and white lenses not letting him go. The non-challant face he wears slips off as if oil just slicked between the mask and his skin. His heart picks up a beat. There are layers between their skin, Jason’s thick gloves and Tim’s three-piece suit, but it feels warmer. Burning.

“Damn,” Jason curses under his breath.

It’s just a little thing, but Jason’s silence following that is a nother prick to Tim’s skin.

“Is that all?” Tim dismissed, pulling his arm away, but Jason only holds tighter.

“I didn’t know, okay?” Jason pushes, “And you’re a civilian, you’re not supposed to know Jason Todd is back to the land of the living.”

“A civilian,” Tim mutters under his breath. That’s all he is to Jason? All this time. His chest hurts, Tim knows this is because of Jason’s words instead of anything else. “Get away from me.”

“I’ll see you again,” Jason says before letting go.

Before Tim can say don’t bother, the man puts on his red helmet and grapples away. For a moment Tim can see the shadow of red yellow green flying away.

[linafication]

tell me about your ocs? and/or rate them on thr richter scale (<- to be interpreted however you choose) :)

hiii thanks for asking!! i was gonna give a summary of all my oc stories but my tendency to talk forever got the better of me so I only ended up talking about one story, that being hhvcd!!

haricot heretic vs the checkered devil (hhvcd)!!! this story is a collaborative project between me & my dear wonderful friends @canolatie (the checkered devil, nick violet) & @nobody-knose (the fog, merlin)!! it’s a supervillain rivalry story in which we each have our own characters (the most focus being on, understandably, haricot heretic & the checkered devil) in turn with their own backstories!! my characters in this whole thing are

- haricot heretic (an undead radioactive creature made up of a combination of his former human form & various mutated plants. they were reanimated by strange chemicals known only as the chemicleas after an explosion (he himself caused) at the old abandoned power plant conveniently located just outside eir hometown. ey have the power to control & manipulate plants (among other abilities) & are the most dramatic bastard you’ll ever meet. they’re also a butch lesbian so that’s cool) (oh also before the whole chemicleas incident haricot went by the name cypress)

- alder kane (haricot’s best friend & girlfriend back when he was yknow an alive human person. alder was known as the shy teacher’s pet type girl in her early years of school, although eventually developing a deep distrust with authority due to the repeated inaction of various town problems (most namely the abandoned power plant) she & cypress had a long running inside joke about alder Fucking Hating the french. she was planning to be a graphic designer. the whole power plant thing came to a breaking point when cypress decided to make the danger clear by letting himself be Fucked Up by the chemicleas. naturally when alder heard of this plan, they tried to stop their girlfriend. unfortunately he is a stubborn bastard & only backed out of the plan when it was already too late. it didn’t go as planned <3 needless to say rip alder 😭👊)

[sagasofazeria]

OC-tober day three!

Prompt: Duel

The sorcerer’s duel between Fuego and the Krizmani sorceress from his backstory.

Taglist: @talesfromaurea @hellishhin @talesfromaurea

event tag for oc-tober: @oc-growth-and-development

•••

The thunder boomed, and the palace shook.

Fuego stumbled, but steadied himself, summoning up another flame to hurl at the attackers.

The Krizmani were flooding into the palace in dark robes, fog rolling in every door and window. The royal guard were falling quickly in the confusion and panic. Fuego found himself retreating to the throne room just to escape the tide.

Together, he and the remaining palace guard managed to seal the massive wooden doors to the throne room, but they knew it wouldn’t hold long.

As they all readied their blades, there were several beats of tense silence.

The king himself stood in front of the throne, shield and scimitar in hand. His son, the prince, stood behind him.

“Don’t submit to the insurgents!” The king cried. “The storm has broken, but we will not fall!”

As the king’s words rang throughout the room, a thunderous crash sounded in response. A massive bolt of lightning exploded through the ceiling, sending a shower of debris onto the defenders. At the same moment, the doors were blasted off their hinges, crushing at least three of the guards, and the Krizmani charged into the throne room.

As the guards rushed to meet them, Fuego summoned up every ounce of fire that lie in his soul. A beacon in the storm, he stood atop a pile of rubble, gouts of flame cascading onto the fanatics surging through the door.

As he rained fire on the attackers, they receded, and the royal guards pushed forward.

Fuego grinned and raised a flaming fist.

“We’re turning the tide! Push them back!”

Just as he finished his triumphant yell, he was blasted in the chest by an arc of lightning.

He flew across the room, slamming into a pile of ceiling rubble near the foot of the throne. He coughed, winded, and looked up to see more lightning blasting through the guards.

Floating halfway up to the storm-filled hole in the ceiling was a sorceress, robes swirling around her and eyes glowing with power.

Fuego saw another bolt heading for a spot just behind the throne. As he looked there, he saw the prince, kneeling over where his father lay trapped under rubble.

With a yell, Fuego leapt in the path of the bolt, taking the brunt of the blast and slamming into the ground again.

Clothes smoking, he stood again in front of the prince, summoning another flame and hurling it at the sorceress like a spear.

The stormy miasma around her dispersed most of his fire, but it was clear she still felt the heat.

“You’re not dead,” she said with a growl, voice booming in time with the storm.

“Not yet.”

“Impressive.” She regarded him a moment, almost curiously.

“I like to think so. But that’s not the point. I challenge you to a sorcerer’s duel,” he said, standing a little straighter and resummoning his fire.

She laughed, laughed like a hurricane laughs at the roots of a tree.

“You’re challenging me?”

“Yeah. Maybe if you turned down your melodramatic nature noises you’d have heard me the first time.”

She sputtered a moment, then scowled at him.

“I accept. You won’t live long enough to regret this.”

Fuego grinned, drawing his blade and lighting it with the fire from his hand. Before she could strike, he sprinted and leaped onto a fallen column, running up the wall and leaping off with frightening speed.

As he sailed through the air toward her, he willed the flame licking up his blade to grow, sending it out across her body a searing arc. As he fell back down, he grabbed her ankle, dragging her out of her levitation and sending them both tumbling to the floor.

She hissed, rolling toward him and reaching for his neck, lightning coursing between her fingers. Fuego was quicker though, and he knocked her hand away, rolling past her and standing again. He quickly sent a column of flame erupting between her feet as he backed away.

She yelled in frustration again, standing and sending another blast of lightning towards him. He leaped towards rubble for cover, but the blast still caught his shoulder, and he went tumbling to the ground again.

Fuego groaned, vision spinning from one too many trips through the air. He reached for his sword, but it had skidded away.

She was approaching slowly, lightning building up around her again. He raised a hand to do something, anything, but his vision went blank as fog swirled all around him.

Heart gripped with fear, he let out a yell and outstretched a hand, clearing the fog in a blast of hot air. It swirled away just in time for him to see her hand reach toward his neck, and he had no time to react.

She grabbed his neck, and let lightning flow into him. As he cried out and his vision began to go dark, she flung him to the side.

“As per the rules of the sorcerer’s duel, we fight until one has been exhausted, killed or has forfeit. Have you given up yet?” She smirked as he struggled onto hands and knees.

“Not... quite,” he coughed.

“Then I guess you’ll have to die.”

He made a move to grab his sword, but she sent a shock of lightning into him, and he collapsed, unable to reach it.

She laughed above him, and the lightning kept coming, burning. He felt his body crying out but still he inched forward, until he had finally grasped the hilt.

“That won’t help you now,” she growled, grinding her heel into his hand.

His vision was darkening quickly, and he felt himself sinking, his soul teetering on the edge of the depths.

But as she pressed further, and more of her magic coursed through him, somewhere deep down, he felt something stir. Like a single ember, a single spark... that suddenly became a bonfire.

With renewed strength, he surged upward through the onslaught, flames roaring across his blade as he turned and plunged it into the sorceress’ chest.

The look of shock stayed frozen on her face as the sword glowed red-hot, the smell of searing flesh being torn away by hurricane winds. He ripped the blade free, and she collapsed, the storm fading as she did.

Seeing their greatest weapon fallen, the remaining Krizmani scattered, and Fuego fell to his knees in relief.

•••

[nobody-knose--archive]

8 & 11 for the fic ask game!!

i have two (general) types of ocs. the first type (song type) 's development goes like this:

1. i listen to a song and think "hey there's sort of a plot or personality in here" 2. i try to piece together the plot and/or personality behind it into something more cohesive. this is when a character usually emerges, to either interact with the world or be represented by the song. 3. now there's a character. it either surpasses the limits of the song & starts doing its own thing in a world of my own creation or doesn't.

type two (self-insert) goes as follows:

1. i encounter some media i like (kingdom hearts, fire emblem, persona, etc) and think to myself "god there's so many things i wish i could tell these characters/ways i wish i could interact with the world/aspects of the lore i'd like to explore/etc" 2. i create a self-insert character to do exactly that (i. e. character is effectively part of the main cast, can interact with those characters; character ends up in an environment with possibilities not explored in the canon text; etc) 3. i decide this character needs a bit of backstory, further development, a more self-contained storyline, etc, and start kinda writing that. 4. this emerging plotline lives rent free in my head for weeks, months, years. depends, really. anyway they're developed now & probably don't have any more resemblance to me other than in base appearance.

based on that whole spiel i think the first easy answer to the next question is just. my least-developed self insert oc, which would probably be some nameless person from fire emblem or pokemon or something if it weren't for the fact that those ocs probably represent my 13-10 year old self better than my current one. the most recent self insert i've devised is fog but that feels like even more of a cop-out. hm. i should also say that i don't think i see my ocs (or myself i guess) on clear enough terms to decide what about them makes them like or unlike myself. my answers are kaguya, my persona oc, and steven from standing tally.

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 8: Cᴀsᴜᴀʟᴛʏ

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Episodes: Earth Kills

Summary:  Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ Bʟᴀᴋᴇ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴘɪᴛᴏᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ Iɴᴅɪɢᴏ ʜᴀᴛᴇs: ʜᴀɴᴅsᴏᴍᴇ, ᴄʜᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ, ᴀʀʀᴏɢᴀɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴍᴘᴜʟsɪᴠᴇ. Uɴғᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴀᴛᴇʟʏ, ʜᴇ’s ᴀʟsᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ sʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ғʀᴏᴍ.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

This fic is currently going through rewrites, so chapters will be updated as I get to them. I’m not changing anything plot-wise, just hopefully improving the quality of writing :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Mentions of past non-consent, sexual threat language, sex, self harm, mentions of backstory suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use, suicide attempt (marked on relevant chapter).

Chapter Eight

The first sight to fill my blurred vision was Octavia’s deeply concerned expression, as she crouched over me and her face lit up when I began to gain consciousness.

"Hey! Take it slow. You passed out." She instructed gently, halting me from straightening up too quickly and instead assisted me to carefully sit up.

"How are you feeling now?" She enquired with her brows furrowed together in worry and I knew that I had given her a fright.

"Would you believe me if I said better?" I laughed earnestly and though I knew how protective she was, I hoped that she wouldn't make too much of a fuss of the incident. "Honestly, I think a little black out is just what I needed." I added with a playful smile and though she  was clearly sceptical, she smiled in return.

"What's the situation with the air?" I questioned as I surveyed the room around us and noticed that nothing seemed any different than when I’d last been awake.

“It’s cleared. Everyone has gone back out to camp and Jasper has settled for now, so no more death threats.” She reported in a cheerful manner and I sighed in relief.

There was only so much that could be relied upon from books and I wouldn’t have trusted them to be correct on how long the effects of the fog were going to last. Not only did this cause concern for those of our camp who were currently out, but I had been fearful at the idea of protecting Jasper for any extended period whilst we were all trapped inside the ship.

“That’s a relief.” I breathed and she nodded in agreement. “Any chance that I could get some fresh air? It’s a little cramped in here.” I requested nervously and Octavia studied me suspiciously.

I could recognise that she was considering whether I was being honest about my condition and despite my frustrations, I couldn’t really blame her for this. After a few moments of silent deliberation, she glanced over my shoulder at Monty and I was relieved when he nodded in approval. In a final test, Octavia assisted me to my feet and then removed her grip to check that I could maintain my balance.

"Fine.” She breathed as she completed her assessment. “You look better than you did earlier, at least. Just so you know, you still look like crap, though." She teased with a subtle wink and I chuckled lightly in response.

"I'm coming with you, just in case." She demanded and I agreed reluctantly, accepting that this probably the maximum that I could expect from her in these circumstances.

The rickety ladder that led to the bottom floor presented me with my most substantial challenge and though it took some time to climb down, I managed to reach the exit. My legs still shook slightly from the strain, but I felt better than I had all of the previous day.

Octavia remained close at my side, watching my every move as we wandered out into the camp and I took a deep breath of the fresh air, the experience still feeling novel to me. Fortunately, I found that I didn’t feel as nauseous outside and took a seat by the fire with Octavia right beside me.

"Any news on your brother, or the hunting group?" I investigated hopefully, but Octavia shook her head regretfully and her concerned expression returned.

"They're getting a group ready to look for them." She confirmed regretfully and despite her attempts to conceal the fear that she felt, I recognised it in her voice.

Just as I opened my mouth to reassure her, several people around us jumped to their feet and a voice in the distance announced that the group were back. Octavia bolted to standing and the moment that Clarke and Finn entered the clearing, she ran over to intercept them. They seemed to be making a beeline for the dropship, and whilst she followed them, I continued to observe the spot where they had entered.

Wells was the next to return, closely followed by Bellamy and I noticed that he was carrying something large behind him. Dread filled my stomach as I hoped that this was simply the spoils of their hunt, but his expression was far from victorious and I carefully rose to my feet to investigate.

"Octavia.” Bellamy stuttered sharply as she reemerged from the ship and the tone that he addressed her with caused chills to spread down my spine. “Just stay there. Please, stay back." He pleaded and I rushed to catch her as she attempted to fight her way past him.

Unfortunately, my shaky legs wouldn’t allow me to reach her in time and she blew past me with her focus firmly set on her brother. Octavia barged past him and crouched to discover what he had carried back to camp. Shuffling closer, I still hadn’t reached them and hoped that I would not have to mitigate an argument in my current state.

"There was nothing I could do." Bellamy stated in a regretful manner, a vulnerability in his expression that I hadn’t witnessed before and my stomach lurched at his words.

"Don’t."

Octavia's voice was firm as she snapped at him and the hurt in her tone confirmed my fears. As I crept closer, I noticed tears running down her cheeks and knew immediately who had been lost. Her hands trembled slightly as she covered Atom’s face that was severely burned from the acid and though I wanted to wrap my arms around her, I respected her space to allow her to say goodbye,

Bellamy pleaded with her to listen as she straightened up, but she simply stormed past him despite his attempts to catch her and it was clear that she hadn’t even noticed me in her heartbreak. I slowly began to follow her when Murphy passed me and I paused on the spot, feeling conflicted between comforting my best friend and defending against a kill order on Jasper.

After the traumatic events of the day, I hoped that Bellamy would be reasonable enough to turn Murphy down, but he’d proven himself to be unpredictable thus far and I remained rooted to the spot with anxiety. The sound of Bellamy sniffing as if he were holding back tears surprised me and I listened eagerly to their hushed conversation.

“Lose anyone here?” He enquired in his usual authoritative manner that masked the upset that seemed obvious to me and I wondered if anyone else had noticed it.

"No."

Murphy's answer was unnervingly cold and I sensed a hint of disappointment beneath it. I felt myself shudder at his tone, uncomfortable with the implication that he would have enjoyed murdering Jasper.

"Jasper?" Bellamy nodded to the dropship as he spoke and I waited for the answer with a tension in my gut.

"Still breathing. Barely. I tried to take him out, but your psycho little sister-"

Murphy's words caused me to turn on the spot to lunge at him, but wasn't able to grab him in time, instead stumbling from my continued weakness. Recovering back into a standing position took me a few moments, but as I reoriented myself, I could hear the sounds of a struggle.

Once I straightened up and my vision cleared, I realised that Bellamy was holding Murphy by his jacket, his fists balled tightly enough around the fabric for his knuckles to turn white.

"My what?!" He growled as he held Murphy's face intimidatingly close to his. "My what?!" He repeated his question with his teeth bared in fury as he spoke and for the first time since we'd met, I found myself respecting him.

Reflected in him was the same veracity that I was unable to control whenever anyone treated Octavia in a manner that I was uncomfortable with and for the first time, I felt as if we shared something more than simply our care for our. Afterall, if he possessed this level of protective anger for his sister, it showed that he was capable of putting someone else’s needs first and it gave me hope that there was more to him than the façade he currently displayed.

"Your little sister." Murphy answered calmly as pushed Bellamy away from him, but the reaction seemed to be caused by frustration, rather than the arrogant rebellion that he normally displayed.

This was the first time that I’d seen Murphy behave in such a manner to threats and it was deeply interesting to me that Bellamy was able to accomplish something that no guards or authority of any kind had seemed to be able to do on the Ark. It gave me valuable insight into his leadership and I began to wonder if their alliance was based on fear rather than camaraderie.

"Yeah! That's right. My little sister." Bellamy growled as he closed back into Murphy’s space, using his slightly taller posture to stare down at him with intensity.

"Got anything else you want to say about her?" He offered in a threatening voice and I felt myself smiling at our newfound similarity.

Murphy was clearly immensely uncomfortable and I realised that I had never seen him this intimidated before, even with Pike. The power balance was obvious now and this confirmed that Bellamy was the key to peace within the camp.

"Nothing. Sorry." Murphy muttered nervously and I quietly scoffed under my breath as he cowered beneath the larger man.

Bellamy stared at him for a few moments longer, breathing deeply before stepping back.

"Get him out of here." He pointed to Atom's body without glancing back at it, as if he couldn’t bear to witness it again and his voice broke as he spoke.

The level of emotion that radiated from him shocked me, before I was distracted by a few members of his usual group crowding around Atom to move him. Bellamy turned back to flash Murphy one final warning glare, before he stormed out of camp.

I crossed my arms as I observed Murphy and flinched when he threw a dagger into a nearby tree. Though he was known to lash out, even in the Skybox, I made a mental note to keep a close eye on his rising anger issues before they caused any further problems in our camp.

Stumbling into the trees, I decided to follow Bellamy to discuss my concerns whilst he was in a reasonable state of mind and it wasn’t long before the trembling of my legs became a challenge. My vision grew steadily more blurred until I could hardly make out where I was going and though I reached out to lean against a tree for balance, I realised too late that I had misjudged its position.

Moments before I hit the ground, I was caught by a large figure who assisted in returning me to a standing position. I clung to them as I reoriented myself, waiting for the spinning to cease so that I could thank them and even though the haze of my sight, I could recognise Bellamy’s scruffy hair and freckles.

"What are you doing out here?" He enquired with confusion and I noticed that he didn't immediately remove his grip on me.

My mind struggled to catch up to the events that had just passed and as I managed to comprehend that he had caught me, I couldn’t find anything to say. As sense returned to me, I realised that I was still holding his arms with desperation and quickly broke all contact.

"Looking for you." I replied casually in a poor attempt to downplay the situation and I stepped back to create space between us when my knees buckled.

Bellamy caught my weight for a second time and though I had intended to distance myself, he now threaded an arm around my waist to keep me upright. With his help, I shuffled over to a nearby tree stump and I was surprised at how delicate his movements were as he lowered me into a seated position.

"You look awful." He stated with a tone of concern, but I couldn't help smiling at his choice of words.

There was a similarity with Octavia as he scrutinised me, his eyes scanning me for any visible injuries that might need treatment and I avoided meeting his eyes, feeling immensely self conscious under his examination. The longer that he stared at me, the more awkward I became and I was determined to shift his focus away from me as quickly as possible.

"That's utterly charming of you to say." I drawled sarcastically and for a moment, a small smile seemed to break his expression. It felt strange to share humour with him and the relaxed atmosphere between us was somewhat jarring after our history of arguments.

"I'm fine. Just a little shaky." I sighed as he raised his brows at me expectantly and seemed unconvinced by my answer, crossing his arms at me.

"When did you last eat?" He investigated, thinning his eyes at me in a suspicious manner and I rolled my eyes at the question which felt as if it had an ulterior motive.

"I said that I'm fine, Bellamy. I've been foraging in the woods. I can take care of myself." I stated firmly.

Food was an especially sensitive topic between us and I couldn’t help feeling defensive. Mostly, I was frightened as I began to feel so unwell that I would be likely to accept any terms for a meal and feared that he would seize the opportunity to exploit my vulnerability. Though I was completely exhausted, I battled to keep my guard up against whatever tactic he attempted next.

"I know that I haven't made it easy for you to accept anything from me." He sighed regretfully as he took a seat beside me and kept his gaze trained on his feet. "You're right. I need to lead. Not just with my words, with my actions too."

Something was different about him tonight. In every past interaction between us, his charming attitude and arrogant answers blocked any real conversation and in this moment, that sensation was missing.

Bellamy leaned forward with his arms resting on his knees and ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of stress. Though I still suspected that this might be a well planned trap, I felt my internal walls slightly lowering as I considered him.

"I must confess, hearing you admit that I'm right does make me feel better." I spoke with a light, comical tone and he flashed a cheeky smirk in my direction.

It was the closest thing to a genuine smile that I’d seen on him since we met and though I wasn’t sure how he had convinced it out of me, it seemed that my humorous personality had decided to reveal itself to him.

"Where's this coming from?" I asked as I offered him the opportunity to explain himself and he sighed, staring out into the words.

His expression was more serious than I’d seen before and it seemed as if he were considering whether he could trust me. I couldn’t tell why, but there was a strong ache within me that urged me to support him and to be the person who offered to listen.

Though I knew that sharing my concerns first would create a more even atmosphere between us, I couldn’t bring myself to trust him enough to display any vulnerability and instead, allowed him the time to decide for himself.

"We lost Atom in the fog. I couldn't save him." He confessed, seeming as if he could no longer hold the thoughts inside and he kept his gaze focused on the trees as he spoke.

I sighed as my attention shifted to the ground, inspecting my boots as a distraction from the waves of emotion that radiated off him.

"I know." I muttered in a low voice and we fell back into silence.

It was strange to remain so quiet in response to a topic as devastating as this, but my deeply ingrained behaviour to protect myself kept me from offering any advice until I knew that he wouldn’t throw it back in my face. In direct contradiction to my generally honest attitude, I was afraid to open myself up to anyone with the power to truly hurt me and though a part of me longed to lighten the tension, I chewed my lip as I awaited a display of trust from him.

"I failed him."

Bellamy's words cut through the atmosphere between us and his voice with emotion cracked as he spoke. The hurt poured from him and for the first time, it felt as if he were allowing me to see the real him. It surprised that he had chosen to be vulnerable first and I sighed as I prepared myself to return the gesture.

"No, Bellamy. You didn't." I replied sternly and he turned to face me with tears in his eyes. My breath hitched for a moment at the raw emotion in his face and I felt my heartbeat quicken. "It came out of nowhere. It was fast and deadly." I asserted as I provided the unbiased facts that I knew he would not be able to acknowledge through his own guilt.

"You didn't lose anyone here." He muttered as he returned his gaze to the ground and I noticed he was balling his fists in an unconscious act of aggression.

Though his reaction still felt controlled, I could only imagine how severely he was berating himself internally and I sympathised with his pain. Considering our differences in circumstances, I attempted to present them in a way that might lighten the impact of the day's events for him.

"We were standing outside the perfect shelter; you were out in the wilderness. You can't compare the situations. You're being unfair to yourself." I spoke firmly and surprised myself at my own determination to prevent him from blaming himself.

My words were honest and I absolutely believed that he wasn’t at fault for Atom’s death, but defending him was a diversion that I hadn’t expected. Silence fell between us, but unlike any other time, it wasn’t uncomfortable, or tense. If anything, it was easy and I felt content simply being there for him whilst he remained deep in thought.

"I couldn't finish him." He knotted his hands together and stared straight down at the ground when he finally spoke again.

The honesty of this statement left me stunned and I took a sharp breath in response. Until this moment, I hadn’t realised the brutality of Atom’s death and as I considered this new information, I shared in the weight of his confession.

"The fog didn't kill him?" I enquired gently, with an overbearing guilt for even asking him to relive the traumatising situation.

Bellamy shook his head, but continued to avoid even glancing in my direction. It was understandable that he couldn't face me as he recounted the experience and I continued to feel awestruck that he was even discussing this with me at all.

"He begged me to end it and I-I couldn't do it. After all my threats with Jasper, after lecturing Clarke about not being able to make the tough decisions, I had to rely on her to do it." He revealed in barely more than a whisper and I sighed as I carefully considered my response.

It was obvious that every word he spoke was something that he needed to share, to release from his soul. I completely understood the sense that he was unable to live up to his words. My earlier assertion that I was the only member of camp with any wisdom to offer replayed in my mind, yet I struggled to produce any advice of value.

For a moment, I reflected on the lessons that my father had passed on to me and knew that they were the sole reason that I was able to maintain focus on matters of survival. It would be difficult to summarise these concepts into something brief and easy to absorb, but I knew that they were at least a few points that might be able to bring him some peace.

"It's no simple thing to take a life, not even in mercy. Sometimes, the person who has the instincts to make the right choice and the person who is able to act on those choices are different. There's no shame in that." I advised gently whilst he peeked up at me, his face contorted by a vile mixture of torment and regret and my heart ached for him.

"I'm their leader. They need to be able to rely on me. I have to act on my choices." His words were firm and defensive, but not unreasonable.

"Next time, you will." I answered confidently, not expecting to believe my words so strongly.

His response made it painfully clear that he had been more affected by my earlier verbal attacks than I first believed, as he revealed an awareness of his responsibility as a leader that had been absent before. I sighed, feeling guilty for my harsh approach and attempted to build him back up somewhat.

"None of us expected to have to make these choices. We’re not trained for this. It will take time to adjust. Of course you're going to make mistakes, but you'll learn from them. Just start honing those instincts. They'll lead you right." I smiled reassuringly at him as I repeated the advice that I had often given Octavia with a feeling of nostalgia.

The way that he viewed me with an expression of absolute wonder shocked me to my core and I broke out eye contact with an uncomfortable shuffle. He brought his hands to his face and rubbed at his tired eyes, then rose to his feet.

"We'd better get back." He offered as he attempted to force his voice to return to it's normal, matter of fact tone, but I could still sense the anguish behind his words.

"I'm going hunting again tomorrow. Whatever I catch, you'll get the first serving." He offered, before noticing my hesitant expression and sighing regretfully, as he realised that I was still uncertain of his intentions. "Don't worry. I don't want anything from you in exchange. Just consider it a thank you for this." He held his hand out to me and although I would have preferred not to touch him again in such a short encounter, I allowed him to help me to my feet.

Once standing, I felt more stable and broke off from him to wander back to the dropship alone, whilst he returned to leading. By the time that I managed to struggle up the ladder to the top floor, the space seemed quiet and only Octavia, Monty and Finn were sitting in the room.

They were passing around a glass bottle and I snatched it to take a long swig without thinking. The thick alcohol burned down my throat into my stomach sickeningly and I coughed lightly in disgust. I'd never drank alcohol before and in the past, I hadn’t ever trusted myself to handle it. The taste was actually worse than I’d imagined, so I quickly handed the bottle back to Monty with a grimace.

"What was that?" Octavia gasped in amazement and I dropped myself down at her side. Due to her awareness of my past avoidance of alcohol, she thinned her eyes at me suspiciously and I squirmed under her scrutiny.

"Did something happen?" She hinted, causing Bellamy's tormented face to pop into my mind and I felt my cheeks flushing instantly at the memory. After our conversation, I’d needed the drink and honestly still felt confused as to how it had happened. With a shudder, I quickly pushed the thought away and tried to avoid Octavia's interested expression.

"Nothing. It's been a hell of a day is all." I grumbled, turning away from her to cover my blush.

The bottle made its way around the group who each hissed and just as it reached Finn, a voice caught us all by surprise.

"Can I - uh - get a hit of that?" Jasper asked faintly and his simple question caused a wave of excitement to pass through the previously tired group.

"Jasper!" Monty exclaimed, immediately jumping to his feet and we all followed closely behind to surround him.

Finn rushed forward to grab the water canister for him and Monty hopped straight on to the bottom of the bed, practically crouched over his friend in his elation.

"Let's start with the soft stuff." Finn stressed as he held the canister to Jaspers mouth so that he could drink.

Octavia and I held hands and smiled at each other, observing the scene from his bedside. Internally I thanked every force that I could name for allowing him another chance at life. Once Jasper was done drinking, Finn helped lay him back down.

"Welcome back, buddy." He chirped, prompting us all to share words of encouragement and celebration.

Jasper struggled to raise his hand and for a moment I worried that he was reaching for something, but Monty grabbed it in what seemed to be a meaningful gesture for them. I realised that they were simply reconnecting and smiled warmly at the two of them, feeling my heart swell with appreciation. Their reunion gave me my first taste of true hope since we landed and I prayed that it was a sign of a turning tide.

"Was that a dream, or did I get speared?" Jasper cracked in his usual playful manner and I couldn't stifle a snort of laughter, mixed with a subtle tear of joy.

"You'll have a very impressive scar to prove it."

Clarke announced, causing me to startle as she crept into the room and just like the rest of us, she was beaming at Jasper.

"My saviour!" He cheered as enthusiastically as he could manage in his condition and Clarke crouched by his side, her smile fading to disbelief as she viewed him.

"Thank you. For not dying." She spoke gently and with a tone of absolute wonder and I knew that we all shared the same sense of appreciation for our cheerful miracle. "I don't think I could have taken that today."

"Well, I'll try not to die tomorrow too, if that's cool." Jasper replied.

Relief flooded me to find that his wit and attitude remained, and I was pleased to find that all of the suffering he’d endured over the past few days hadn’t damaged his sense of humour. Everyone around me chuckled together and as I surveyed them, I raised that it was the first time that I’d seen even a hint smile in them since the river.

Octavia leaned over to pat his leg, squeezing as if she needed to confirm that he was real and Jasper glanced over in a manner that indicated he had only just noticed her.

"Oh, hello!" He crooned in a tone that completely exposed his delight at her presence.

True, hearty laughter carried in the group at his excitement, most noticeably in Octavia and she smiled wider than I'd ever seen before.

After a few small, contented groans Jasper passed back into sleep and we all simply took a moment to smile at each other, each basking in our relief. Without a single word shared between us, I knew that tonight would be the first time we slept properly since our bumpy arrival here.

[xathia-89]

1582 meets the 1890s

This is a crossover of two of my OCs. Natsuki and Evelyn. It also gives you a good insight to Evelyn’s backstory. Big thank yous go to @toloveawarlord @plumpblueberry and @thequeenshuntress for looking this over. 

Evelyn was rushing back through the streets. A heavy thunderstorm that was out of season and character was thrashing its way around Paris as she finally made it to the entrance hall of the mansion. She was soaked to the bone after walking up the drive from her drop off spot, and Sebastian was already waiting with towels to greet her. Leonardo and Isaac were loitering and muttering about something, frowning at the weather, and Le Comte wasn’t far away. Her hair was dripping on the floor, as the butler wasn’t expecting the woman to get impatient, and strip her heavy dress off in the front of the mansion. 

“What? It’s heavy, wet, cold and uncomfortable, and there is literally no one here who hasn’t seen me naked,” Evelyn shrugged, dropping her wet corsets and underwear on top of the pile before wrapping a towel around herself. 

She was swamped by Le Comte’s coat, covering everything as the man pulled her against him seconds before a light blinded the immediate vicinity. Evelyn’s head was held against his chest, a large hand splayed over the back of her head before two new voices could be heard, both speaking a fast pace of Japanese as Sebastian’s back straightened. 

A tree had been struck and split in two as the rain cleared away the smoke and fog, leaving two strangely dressed individuals shouting out randomly. Le Comte paused before he was edging around to get a better view. 

The man was dressed in battle armour, his sword out and gleaming in the moonlight of the suddenly clear skies, with the woman pressed to his chest. The female was slight and dressed in a traditional kimono as Sebastian summoned himself to the side of the master of the manor. The atmosphere was suffocating. 

“Who are you?” Sebastian asked in Japanese, reverting to his native tongue easily despite the lack of practice. 

“Nobunaga Oda,” the man snapped back. 

The woman was shaking with fright, but now she was calming down as the vampires made no move to attack the pair. Sebastian looked like he’d been starstruck momentarily as Evelyn realised that most of the mansion had come to see what the fuss was about. Jeanne and Napoleon both had their swords out, and it was clear that Le Comte had the hand on the hilt of his weapon, while the stranger was trying to make sense of the situation. 

Evelyn slipped out from Le Comte’s grip, realising that she was the least threatening of everyone present, ignoring his silent protests and began to approach them. 

“Hi,” she smiled, keeping her hands where the man could see them. “How’s your English?” She asked politely in the little scraps of Japanese Sebastian had taught her. 

“It’s okay,” the woman replied, thankfully in Evelyn’s native tongue. “Where are we?”

“France, this is the outskirts of Paris,” she explained. 

“And not the 21st century?” the strange woman asked softly, glancing over their outfits. 

“19th actually,” Evelyn explained. “How about we all go inside and introduce ourselves properly, being soaked to the bone will only invite illness and problems.” 

Evelyn slowly backed away towards the manor, increasingly aware for once at her lack of clothes under the coat. The woman was rapidly speaking with her companion as the vampire glared at the other men and gestured for everyone to go inside. Initiating trust would be the only way to get some more answers about who they were and what possibly happened to bring them here. 

The thermae was her destination personally as the vampires all eventually followed Evelyn’s lead. Le Comte refused to let her get too far ahead, his gaze was heavier than usual, and she knew when to stop taking steps from the glare into the back of her head. The two strangers finally came in and eyed the palace with different expressions. The woman was wide-eyed and amazed at the refined air and quality, while the male was judging everything for a possible escape route. Le Comte’s coat was heavy, and not that comfortable as Evelyn was already trying to figure out the best way of dealing with the situation. 

“Sebastian?” Le Comte was already thinking three steps ahead of her, having assessed the size of the strange couple. “I believe that two rooms and a change of clothes are in order, and we will need to go through things in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” it was amazing to see how well the human had fitted in the mansion of vampires at times like this, and he was usually able to outmanoeuvre any of the men as well. He had disappeared before the last words stopped echoing in the hall. 

“I’m Evelyn,” the British woman had to try and do something about introductions, a smile and an offered hand to the strange woman. 

“Natsuki,” she was as cute as a button and most likely as harmless as one too. Her hands were scarred on her fingertips, a seamstress or tailor most likely as the two women shook hands. 

“Your boyfriend seems slightly wary of us,” Evelyn laughed softly as the two let go of each other. 

“Comes as standard for the Sengoku era,” Natsuki let slip, before blushing bright red. “We’re re-enactors!” She blurted, trying to cover up before Evelyn smiled.

“Sengoku era explains the outfits. Why were you asking about the 21st Century, though?” She said, tilting her head to the side. 

“You… believe us about being from that era?” The man spoke up with a glare from wine red eyes that would have easily sent her to the grave. 

“None of us in this mansion are of this time and place,” Evelyn shrugged. “We are a collection of oddities,” she beamed. “That we have no one from your era is merely something new to talk about and discover.”

“Don’t mind him,” Natsuki was looking nervous.

“We will share a room, and continue with answers tomorrow,” the man declared, bringing Natsuki into his arms and protection again as Sebastian appeared. 

Le Comte was stood silently, watching the strangers retreat down the corridor to follow the butler to their accommodation for now. 

“I forgot about your diplomatic skills,” Le Comte’s voice made Evelyn jump. “You need to go to the Thermae, my coat and the weather will only leave you susceptible to illness.”

“I’ll take the order for once,” she smiled wearily, keeping the heavy material wrapped around her before slipping away down the corridor. 

***

Opening the doors to the hall at breakfast time brought a lot more chatter than Evelyn was used to. Even as a vampire, she was never a morning person, especially after Sebastian had been told he was to dress her as the ‘Lady of the manor’ and had her stuffed into the stupid whalebone corset before an overly fancy dress was pulled on. She hadn’t had a chance to object mostly with Sebastian’s incredibly talented fingers thoroughly investigating her, and by the time she’d climaxed for the third time, she had to begrudgingly admit that it was a nice dress. 

Nobunaga was looking suspicious at the traditional Japanese breakfast laid out for him by Sebastian, as Natsuki was eagerly tucking in. She recognised the dress as one of her own, though it was hardly an ideal fit really on the slighter female. 

“Oh, Lady Hampton,” Leonardo gave a mock bow to the female vampire, who then flicked his forehead in response before she could move her skirts around to take a seat near Natsuki. She didn’t want to crowd out the woman, though she seemed a lot more at home than her partner did as the poached eggs, lightly buttered toast and bacon were placed in front of her. 

How Sebastian managed to get her dressed this morning and then cook for everyone still amazed the woman, a knowing glance between the two before he went to refill the teapot. The Lady was a fan of her tea strongly brewed of course as even Dazai appeared, attracted by the smell of miso soup. Evelyn’s attention tried to focus on the meal in front of her, ignoring the comments that were intended to wind her up from Leonardo and Arthur, both of whom knew that she wouldn’t be dressed in such a manner without reason. 

The biggest surprise was when Le Comte showed up and took his seat next to Evelyn as though this was their usual routine. A decanter of rouge was placed in front of him by Sebastian, along with two crystal glasses before the pureblood poured into both of them. Evelyn wasn’t that surprised to find one pushed in front of her, the liquid the only thing to genuinely sate her after she finished her small plate. 

Le Comte’s presence wasn’t a coincidence, his arm had already pinned Evelyn to her seat. She wasn’t going to be allowed to leave it seemed as Nobunaga was watching them with hawk eyes. 

“I believe we should retire to my study where we can discuss things more comfortably,” Le Comte’s voice was directed to the imposing stranger, who nodded in agreement. 

Everything felt very strained and forced to Evelyn. She wasn’t comfortable in her clothes or the fact she wasn’t doing what she wanted to. Le Comte had wished to her dressed as the Lady of the manor to help out the strangers during this meeting. It would be impossible to be taken seriously if she was dressed in her usually dowdy dresses. 

The fireplace was stoked into life by the butler as the four of them entered the room. Sebastian was his usual self, completely unphased on the outside before Le Comte asked for him to stay as well. 

“We don’t want to outnumber them and believe us to be a threat, monsieur,” Sebastian reminded him, unsure about where to place himself. 

“Your Japanese may be required,” Le Comte smiled, his expression telling the butler that it wasn’t up for debate. 

Evelyn gestured for Natsuki and Nobunaga to take a seat, before perching herself on the arm of Le Comte’s chair. Her hands were folded in her lap nervously, trying to hide the fact that she wasn’t in control of everything and partially scared about it. 

“How did you come to be here?” Le Comte was all business, as Sebastian poured out some more rouge into the glasses. 

“We were trying to avoid a wormhole,” Natsuki opened, fidgeting and trying to find a comfortable spot in the chair and her dress. “We were escaping a battle in 1582, I had a friend who had a theory that it would be taking us back to where I originally came from in the 21st century, but instead we found ourselves deposited in your manor.” Her earnest expression was cute and endearing to Evelyn. 

“Maybe the door interfered,” Evelyn suggested to Le Comte, turning her head towards him. “You were using it last night,” she quietly spoke. 

“What door?” Nobunaga’s voice was abrupt, demanding obedience as the attention of the room was on the warlord. 

“There’s a door in the mansion that opens once a month, it allows anyone who uses it to slip through time,” Sebastian had dipped back into his native Japanese, trying to make things as clear as possible after a brief nod from Le Comte. “It was used last time shortly before you both arrived.”

“It’s possible that they overlapped,” Evelyn nodded, pausing to take a sip from the rouge. 

“You told Natsuki that all of you aren’t of this time,” Nobunaga’s intense gaze now fell onto the female. It was turning her to ice. 

“We’re not all of this time. That is very true,” Le Comte chuckled darkly before he glowered at the woman next to him. “We aren’t human either,” he was breaking this like taking a plaster off. It was best to get it over and done with. “We are vampires.”

Even Natsuki was struggling to process that one. The two of them were scared, it was a normal reaction. 

“Every one of you?” The weight of the world was on the three residents, Evelyn was staring at the ground, unable to bring herself to even try and sympathise with the two humans. 

“No, I am still human,” Sebastian spoke. “Le Comte has always ensured my safety, and he has promised yours as well.” 

“How do we know that you won’t take that back?” Nobunaga was a smart man by all means, but he was also from a period of time that lead to a lot of backstabbings. 

“Because we don’t need to drink from you to stay sated,” Le Comte calmly said, the contents of the glasses dawning on the human male. 

“Please, allow us to help you blend in by getting you some clothes and see how you feel on staying here for the next month before you make a decision,” Sebastian was trying to assist, before Evelyn put the glass down and stood up abruptly, heading to the door. 

“Evelyn,” Le Comte’s tone demanded her obedience, and not in their usual manner. 

“They won’t believe us by words alone. It’s like when Sebastian arrived, you can’t be trusted on words alone. I’m going to change, and then I have a shelter to see to,” she replied without turning around. “In that time, Sebastian may have things arranged so that he takes me, Natsuki and Nobunaga into the town. I can go and do my job then.” The weight of Le Comte’s gaze fizzled out, allowing the female to do as she intended. Everyone in the manor hated the thought of Evelyn being attacked on the way to or from the shelter and would do anything to ensure she wasn’t alone when she journeyed. 

True to her expectations, Natsuki and Nobunaga were waiting in the reception with Sebastian as Evelyn showed up, her fancy corsets replaced with something a little more practical under her dress. Natsuki smiled warily at the vampire, but at least in this set up then there were more humans than vampires. 

“You mentioned a shelter and a job?” Natsuki was trying to break the awkward silence in the cab. 

“I run a women and children’s shelter and orphanage,” she spoke up, keeping her gaze out of the window. “I help the most unfortunate and protect them from their abusers, or that is my ideal scenario. If I wouldn’t have a need to run it, then I would be at peace, but that is not to happen at least for now.”

“Why?” Nobunaga was suspicious. 

“I don’t do it for a food source,” Evelyn scoffed. “If I’m hungry then I always keep some rouge around, it’s standard procedure for any of us from the mansion. Though I can tell you that a vampire’s bite brings nothing but pleasure for those inflicted, it’s not all about pain. And we would never drink anyone dry. Even if they did deserve it.” 

She didn’t even let Sebastian slow down the horse, she was far too used to using the opportunity to dirty herself up to a little if she did need to roll. Despite her title as Lady, there were no airs and graces about her as she landed perfectly. 

It was best to leave the three humans alone. Sebastian had long turned into a feature of the mansion, he knew best how to handle that side of things as she let herself into the shelter. 

“Evelyn!” A middle-aged woman in a clean uniform greeted her enthusiastically. “We’ve been worried after that storm last night that you didn’t get home okay.” 

“No, I was just held up with the breakfast rounds,” she laughed softly. “How are we looking? Does anyone need medical treatment?”

“No, everything is running fine. I think some of the newcomers just need to see you so we can come up with a plan for their stay,” she nodded. 

“Then let’s get to work,” Evelyn beamed, gesturing for the woman to take the lead.

***

Natsuki was surprised that Nobunaga had demanded to see the shelter that Evelyn ran after they had spent the day with Sebastian. They were in clothes that fitted, and something vastly different from the kimonos and haoris of the Sengoku as Natsuki was trying to adjust to the weight of her clothing and wearing a corset for once. 

It had once been a grand building. Now it was repurposed on the opposite side of the city to the mansion, with buildings laid around haphazardly in the grounds. A small garden to grow vegetables and fruits, and a place to keep some pigs and chickens while leaving enough space for the children to actively play in. All of the women were clothed in similar things as they worked the yard or were laundering the clothes with washboards and tubs. But it was clear from all views, that no one was unhappy. 

“They won’t let you in,” a voice spoke up from their left, attracting all of their attention. 

“I’m sorry?” Natsuki asked, concern clouding her face. 

“They don’t let men in, as soon as they’re old enough to raise a fist and make demands, she tosses them out,” the stricken beggar was barely clothed, his feet bare and he hadn’t washed in a while. 

“Why’s that?” Nobunaga demanded to know. 

“It’s her Ladyship’s rules,” he laughed coldly. “She doesn’t see the value in treating men.” 

“Come, we’re going,” Nobunaga tugged at Natsuki’s hand, refusing to let her loiter before dragging her back to the carriage where Sebastian was waiting.

***

Evelyn was carrying home a small stack of clothes that needed repairs. She would usually be able to coerce Sebastian into helping her washing, drying and sewing them. To say how busy the butler appeared to be, he would always make time when he could for the shelter. All of the men did, if Evelyn needed a helping hand, then they’d all drop anything and everything for her. It made her a very lucky woman, indeed. 

She let herself in the ‘servants’ entrance before she placed the pile on the wooden table. Sebastian was likely to be asleep already, it was late, but Evelyn wasn’t sure of the time at all. Things seemed to be confusing at the moment. The arrival of Natsuki and Nobunaga had thrown everyone for six, they were just staying for the month until the door opened and they could go to the 21st Century where the wormholes would then hopefully catch up with them and send them back to the Sengoku or allow for them to settle properly. Her night was already planned, she would use the thermae and then settle down in her room to repair the clothes she could. 

It surprised her when footsteps broke her routine when she came home. 

More shockingly, it wasn’t Sebastian, but Natsuki who appeared. 

“Oh, Lady Hampton,” a faint blush was on the visitor’s cheeks, and it was impossible to miss the disappointment in her tone of voice. 

“Please, it’s Evelyn. Lady Hampton is what people who don’t know me call me,” she smiled, trying to ease the woman. “I’m also guessing I’m not who you were hoping to see.”

“It’s Nobunaga, he’s been missing since we got back from the town this afternoon,” Natsuki explained. “I was hoping he would be in here getting something to eat.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but I hope Sebastian wouldn’t be slacking and letting you both miss meals,” she smiled to the human woman. 

“Would you like a hand?” Natsuki was looking bashful, gesturing to the clothes that were piled high. 

“Oh, I was just going to wash them and hang them up to dry. Half of them need repairs as well, so I was going to ask Sebastian to go through them tomorrow-” Evelyn began. 

“I can do that for you, I’m a seamstress,” Natsuki’s smile was so innocent and sweet it was going to give Evelyn toothache. 

“I wouldn’t dream of letting you do such a thing as a guest of Le Comte-”

“He said we were to spend our time as we wanted, and I’d like to help out,  but Sebastian explained that he had his day sorted exactly and he didn’t feel right to put guests to work. But I’d like to help out. You spend a lot of your time there, and Sebastian already works the mansion, but at least I could help you with these. It would be a waste of my skills; otherwise,” Natsuki was persistent, Evelyn had to give her that. 

“You’re going to end up taking them off Sebastian if I try,” she chuckled softly. 

“Of course,” she beamed brightly, already going to pick some up to help with the washing. 

***

A knock to the study wasn’t expected by Le Comte. It was late, and he had only just finished responding to the marriage proposals that were never-ending from Leonardo’s family. It was often a fleeting thought to get Evelyn to agree to it just to stop the letters, but she would never forgive either of them, and it was never in her nature to anyway. 

“Come in,” he called out, wary that he wasn’t expecting visitors. 

Nobunaga had changed back into one of Dazai’s spare kimonos out of comfort while his clothes were being laundered by Sebastian and shut the door behind him. It was strange to see him without Natsuki, but something was weighing down on his mind. 

“Nobunaga, I hope everything is to your satisfaction,” he nodded, aware of the fact the two didn’t know each other as he stood up from his office chair. 

“Lady Hampton…” Nobunaga was staring into the flames of the fire at the opposite end of the room. “Her shelter, she discards boys barely old enough to fend for themselves from her shelter, and you do nothing but fund her without a question?” 

“I see, you spoke to one of the bitter layabouts,” Le Comte nodded, gesturing to the chairs. “Please, let’s take a seat and have a drink. Her shelter is a complex organisation to discuss, and one I normally let her deal with alone.”

“But you are the monetary source?” the warlord questioned, refusing to let the vampire take control of everything. 

“Yes, when she hasn’t got the funds for what she needs, I will give her the money. She mostly self-sustains through fundraising and making and selling goods and foods.” 

“And you let her get away with discarding boys?” 

“Evelyn spent her human years in a city where the poor are the most downtrodden of all. She realised that she was lucky to be born as the only child into a rich aristocratic family, her lands were a huge source of income for her. Her father loathed that she was a woman, he would do anything and everything to ensure she didn’t get a penny of ‘his’ money when he died. Unfortunately for him, someone or something had a sense of humour, because his wife never conceived again, neither did any mistress he took on,” Le Comte smiled wryly. “But that was always Evelyn’s fault, of course. She was a witch if you asked her father, but many saw him as insane, due to the health condition he had acquired by sleeping with so many women. He died when she was only nineteen, and it was heavily expected she would settle down and marry, transferring her funds to the new ‘Lord Hampton’. She would keep her name, and he would take over her life.” 

It still felt weird to talk about her in such detail. Evelyn had spent many nights tucked between him and Leonardo when her nightmares became too much for her to deal with. He knew her story inside out, and she had repeatedly told him that she had no issue with people knowing her ‘sob story’ as she referred to it. Any change in their behaviour to her was on them. 

“She refused to marry?” Nobunaga had taken a seat with a frown before Le Comte settled opposite him. 

“She’s highly independent. She would be expected to become demure, a shadow to her husband and to do as he wished because a woman is a man’s property,” the vampire explained. “She courted, in her youth she was swept up by the idea of romance, but she found out that the most attractive thing about her was her money and great swaths of land. So she began to change her way of thinking, she saw the worst of London, the people unable to afford to live. People dying in the streets, and all those around her would do was complain that their view was spoiled. She tried to speak to those on the streets and those around her, but she only found herself rebuked. So she did what she could, she used her money to start up shelters to help the homeless, she didn’t discriminate. Anyone could come to the door and ask for a bed, and she would also feed them something if there was a space for them.”

“What made her change?” 

“It was the night we met. She’d been attacked by a gang because she’d taken in a wife and a few kids of the gang leader, who was trying to escape the abuse. She wouldn’t tell them which shelter the woman was at and said that she would rather die than give in to them,” Le Comte was pouring out a glass of rouge, his hand steadier than he was expecting. “She gave her life to protect that woman, I offered her the chance to continue her work, and she works to protect humans. She’s tainted by that experience, it wasn’t even the first time she’d been targeted for taking a wife away from what I’ve heard.” 

“I see.” 

Nobunaga was looking locked deep in thought. His eyes searching the flickering flames as the two men sat in silence. 

“She can’t persuade men to change the laws. So she works to take the women out of the cycle of the abuse, but it’s often ingrained into the oldest male offspring as well that they can beat any woman into obedience. Evelyn had to be carried home before to rest up after knife attacks from sons. She soon changed her tune and works on breaking the cycle she can, instead of the one she can’t.” 

Nobunaga nodded his head in acknowledgement before leaving, the atmosphere heavy before Le Comte found himself seeking out the woman for reassurance. 

***

She smelled of sweat and the essence of their lovemaking as Evelyn was cuddled in his arms. Le Comte had decided that he needed to feel her under him after spilling the details of her turning to the warlord, his thumbs were stroking her sides and keeping her flush against him. 

“Mm, I need to breathe,” she murmured, fidgeting to turn around, so her back was pressing into his chest. Her hair was sticking up and out in every direction possible, as he chuckled and brushed it down before settling his cheek on top of her hair. “I take it you had to spill my story then?” She asked, her hands sliding over the back of his to entwine their fingers together in reassurance. 

“It never gets easier to tell to anyone who judges you for not taking in men,” he admitted after a brief silence, absorbing the feeling of her existence with him. 

“It reminds you I’m not immortal as well,” she mumbled, sleep starting to take its grasp. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you and Leonardo alone.” 

“It’s okay princess, we will just treasure the time we have with you,” Le Comte nuzzled her head, letting her slip into unconsciousness. 

***

Natsuki was feeling nervous as Evelyn was helping Sebastian to adjust one of the vampire’s dress down outfits to fit her. She had begged to help the woman, and Evelyn had finally agreed. Evelyn had done everything to talk down the shelter, it wasn’t going to be pretty the state some of her residents were in, and all of them were under a form of rehabilitation to build themselves back up as individuals. 

The two stepped back and nodded at each other before Evelyn picked up the satchel that Natsuki had made to carry the clothing back and forth in. The carriage ride in and out were the easiest parts, Sebastian would always drop her off, and it wasn’t uncommon for one of the men to loiter outside at nighttime if a message had been sent to say she was coming home. 

“Let me know if you feel uncomfortable at any point, some of the women are a lot for me to handle still after all this time,” Evelyn reiterated as they trundled up the driveway to the shelter door. 

“I will,” Natsuki smiled, though her nerves were more than a little apparent as the entrance was unlocked by a traditionally hefty key and lock. 

“Good morning!” Evelyn’s voice seemed to bring life to the building as the door was closed behind them. Heads were poking out of doorways, and clusters of people began to emerge as Natsuki was shown to the kitchen. “Breakfast should have been served, but there will always be those who are late, and I’m not a believer in punishing people for oversleeping. I encourage a productive day, all of our food is made or bartered with the goods we have. I try to get a variety of industries going, some are farm-based like raising chickens and pigs, or the milking of cows and goats. Others are more factory-based, repairing of cloth, making clothes and then there’s the domestic side of course. I employ a handful of women who are suited to run the house, but I try to encourage everyone to move on from here,” Evelyn’s smile gave a lot away in that moment. 

“You don’t want to see them age?” She asked quietly. 

“People come to me to break the cycle they’ve been living in, by allowing them to stay beyond their needs, I am encouraging them to return to that cycle. I have seen many women begin to recover only to return to their abusers because I didn’t send them away. I have contacts around the country, many of the aristocracies are always in need of domestic staff, and then there are those who run farms and factories. I do my part, I ensure that everyone has a decent wage and living conditions as they move on from here,” the vampire spoke a little sharply, purposely keeping her gaze away from the woman. “I need to start my rounds on some of my more intense cases on the top floor of the house.”

Natsuki nodded as she realised she had pressed a little too much. “May I come with you?” 

“Feel free to step away if you need to,” she repeated herself, leaving the clothes in the kitchen to be sorted by the women. 

***

The month had been more than a little unusual. Natsuki had ended up making so many clothes that Evelyn was almost convinced she would never need to lift a finger to repair anything for the next decade. Nobunaga had ended up making firm friends with virtually all of the men and surprisingly had mostly been found with Dazai. His rationale being that he wanted to unify Japan, and he wanted to make sure he had the right means to do it. 

Sebastian looked a little lonely, it was apparent to Evelyn that he missed having someone who wasn’t Dazai around to discuss things with in his native tongue. Homesickness was something she dealt with on a daily basis at the shelter, sometimes even she found herself wishing to be back in London where the abuse was even worse than it was here. Le Comte would be escorting them through the door to ensure they arrived safely in the 21st Century, and he had extended the invitation to Sebastian to leave. Not that the butler accepted it, he told Le Comte that he would here until he couldn’t stand any longer. 

Her head was tilted upwards, a soft kiss pressed to her lips as an ‘a bientot’ in case he didn’t make it back that day. With the standard wolf whistles from the likes of Arthur and Leonardo in an attempt to embarrass the woman. She practically pushed him away, a coy smile on her lips before she gave the polite bow to Natsuki and Nobunaga. 

“Do you think he’ll do it?” Dazai’s question was unusually grave, his gaze still fixed on the door as the shadows had retreated. 

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t, he seemed determined enough to squeeze all of the information from you and Sebastian,” Evelyn smiled brightly. “Maybe you’ll start hearing different things when you go around the town.”

“Maybe,” he gave her a carefree smile and wandered back off towards his room.

[dieverge-a]

Getting to know the mun!

Name: Alex Nickname: Alex Faceclaim: i used to have a fc but then i cut my hair and i feel Uncomfortable presenting as female unless it’s for cosplay now so! i’m using miles for now Pronouns: he/they Height: 5′0 on one leg 5′2″ on another Birthday: dec 10 Aesthetic: oh boy uh. blues, i guess? shitposts. musicals, idk Last Song You Listened To: a soft place to land from waitress  Favorite Muse(s) You’ve Written: ruby, ha//zel gr//ace ( leave me alone ), aria, melody, ( redacted bc i have fear )

Getting to know the muse(s)!

What Inspired You To Take On This Muse: i had the idea of someone who was like... unabashed in what they said and like just a real nasty female oc in mid 2014 and started rping her as a gta au for my self insert oc. around 2015, i decided to change her name and make aria her own entity with her own backstory separate of my self insert’s. at the time i was going through a hell of a lot and needed a space where i could just sort of be Mean for a little bit, even if it felt bad while doing it, because i had a lot of repressed anger towards my life in a universal sense. in a lot of ways -- aria has grown with me and learned that there are different ways to let out your shit. but at the time, she was a sort of outlet that i needed. What Are Your Favorite Aspects Of Your Current Muse(s): i currently have a pretty like... wide array of muses, personality-wise, which is super cool to me because i can be aria where i’m learning and growing or i can be spunky but sad ruby who is trying desperately to help others in spite of herself, or chaotic amanda, or dawn who is shy and calculating... i think with aria it’s really fun to balance the scales internally with what laura is doing at that point in time. is aria talking to someone? what is laura doing? how would this change effect her? etc What’s Your Biggest Inspiration When It Comes To Writing: it depends! a lot of the time it has to do with the ttrpg i’m in that i play aria in, though a lot of the time i just sort of read up things or people talk about stuff... aria’s not really a muse that ever really leaves, she just gets lazy up in my head. like right now, where i can type paragraphs about her but she refuses to reply to asks or threads. ( sorry ) Favorite Types Of Threads: all of them. please give me all of them ignore what i said above i love literally all my threads.... though i will say her interactions with younger kids and being generally kind to them and showing a side she doesn’t show to adults.... like, being wise, being a mom or big sister figure, that’s where it gets me real good. Biggest Struggle In Regards To Your Current Muse: i think a lot of it is internal. i think i have so much brain fog that it makes it nearly impossible to really hone in on any sort of thread that i don’t have an insane amount of muse for, which is wild because i have an insane amount of muse for aria. it’s just like... thread and interaction dependent, really. i could talk about aria layne for hours and hours on end but sometimes she just... doesn’t talk. and i’m ): i think another thing is the way that like... she’s going through a lot of changes and some people don’t really see that and still treat her like they used to when i’ve tried to make it clear that like... when she kills, which is rare now, it’s meticulous. they still sort of see her as this sort of nasty dirty girl that she was conceived as but she won’t do half the stuff she used to, say, 4 years ago.

Tagged by: @dnawield, technically! Tagging: everyone who has had some water in the past 30 minutes! ( if you haven’t, go do that. )

[skybreaker84]

Introducing my very first TF Oc, Astralbeam!!

Nicknames: Astri, Little Filly, Ash, Lieutenant Beam

Age: 20 years(equivalent in human years)

Creation Date: December 31

Personality: Astri is a determined Autobot who usually wants things in her own way. She often questions things she doesn’t understand. Astri is someone who relaxes easily, but at her limit tends to become more uptight and throws something like a fit.

Astri is very social, she loves to have a good party a few times if it means it’ll relax her. She can jump into conversation well, and tends to be carefree when it does come to a good time.

When it comes to her duties and goals, Astri takes it to heart to achieve them. This leads to her being a little selfish, as she blocks out everything and everyone so that she can focus on the task she wishes to achieve.

Astri often looks for advice from elders, or people of high rank, such as her parents, Optimus, or Ratchet. And if it comes to situations, it may even be Megatron. This is because she wishes to become a leader as well, but to the elders, she has much to learn.

Astri tends to shallow herself when it comes to mistakes, leaders don’t make mistakes right? Though carefree, she can be a insecure and a bit of a perfectionist, again this is a thought she has in becoming a future leader.

Faction: Autobot

Alternative Mode: Techno-Organic(really more techno) Unicorn

Earth Alt. Mode: Horse

Main Function: Espionage, Emergency Flare

Universe: Between TFA and TFP

Color Scheme: White, Black, Blue

Backstory:

Before the Great War on Cybertron, Astralbeam was born into a family of military. Her father was a retired Lieutenant, while her mother was a retired Medbot. Astralbeam decided to follow their footsteps, wanting to become Lieutenant.

Her childhood consisted of wanting to do her best, impressing anyone older than her, while also having a good time at parties and special events. She would do honors in school, join clubs like a dancing club, weaponry/fighting clubs.

Though at some point, with tensions high between the Autobots and Decepticons, her parents warned her about the people involved with the Decepticons. Especially Megatron. At some point though, when riots and rallies started, Astralbeam had seen Megatron before, as he had seen her as well. To him though, she was only just another bot.

After school, she pursued her military career at the Autobot Military Academy. She became a cadet, where she’d focus on hand-to-hand combat, weaponry in blades, and close range combat. She’d become focus, attempting to become top of her class in the Academy. But the teachers, as she calls them “Half-Minded Dim-Sparks”, focused more on people becoming the next set of Primes.

When the Great War began, Astralbeam and her parents were sent out of Cybertron. But they were separated as a few Autobots were taking citizens somewhere safer from the Decepticons’ grasp. Astralbeam was considered a soldier, and was sent to Earth to search for others. Astralbeam ends up in the process of searching, finding Optimus and his crew, and she joined, excited to be under the Optimus Prime. Astralbeam spends her time learning more about Earth, while creating the bonds that go along her way.

Abilities/Weapons:

Shooting Star: Astralbeam’s horn sends out a signal that reaches close to the end of the atmosphere. This also shines bright enough to stretch as far as two football fields to clear anything such as darkness and fog.

Nova Spear: A spear made up of hot light, it could shoot light beams.

GlowBug: Astralbeam’s horn glows to find her way around, but she hardly uses it since she has glowing crystals following her around.

Strengths: Astri possesses the agility that makes her quick and flexible. She’s very determine, willing to go for as long as she can. She works well with her spear and has quick reflexes.

Weaknesses: Once it’s dark, or she’s out into a situation that involves being blinded by anything, she’s not as strong as she is. She has a deep fear of the dark, so it’s easier for her enemies to target her at night. She also bites more than she can chew, like a lot.

Theme Song: Obsessed- Ina Wroldsen

Quote: “Even in the darkness, light will either find you, or you find it yourself.”

Other: Ever since Astralbeam’s parents found out she was afraid of the dark, they’ve always given her Brightlight Crystals, crystals that glow and follow the holder around. This was before she had the ability to just let her horn glow.

[twitchesandstitches]

Lilisheb the Shoggirl

Basic Concept: A nice and sweet girl who happens to be a gigantic shoggoth-like creature; her alien appearance is comedically at odds with the unusual situations she finds herself in. And it’s funny for a Lovecraftian entity to be a bit of a wallflower!

Appearance: A massive lime-green woman with a vaguely humanoid body, her body composed of a constantly shifting amorphous mass; new features continually drift in and out of being, additional limbs are common. Overall she has a fairly solid, thick build, but she’s just slim enough to qualify as curvy instead. She’s not usually super busty by the standards of my characters, but she can be! Black veins streak across her body, especially wherever she is about to change form. All her body is extremely soft, but not to the point of being liquid. She’s still solid, just… extremely wobbly. She’s got a lot of subtle details of marine life in general: gills, the sheen of scales, and so on, but she appears to base her form specifically on turtles and octopi in general. She likes those.

Her face is mostly featureless; huge, plump lips, several sets of eyes in fairly random places, and a slight swell where humans would have a nose. She does have several thick tentacles where humans would have hair.

Below the waist, her body is a mass of tentacles, notably thicker than her upper body; she can grow any number of these, and her arms are a similar part of tentacles. She had pseudopods instead of fingers, with very dextrous cillae; she can grow fingers, but prefers not to. She has a very plump and shelf-tier backside, and takes some effort to keep it all big and round.

Due to her shapeshifting abilities, she can take on pretty much any shape she wants, though she cannot alter her species; she is obviously a shoggoth girl, in any form. She generally prefers not to deviate from this base form too much, but doesn’t mind adding extra features such as additional eyes, breasts (for multi boob elements), or limbs.

Backstory: She is OLD. Like, super old, really old. She was old long before humanity ever made their first tentative steps into space, and she may well have been alive since before our most distant ancestors had even begun to walk upright on the plains of Central Africa. Consequently, not a whole lot about her is clear, as her vast age leaves her earlier times obscured by the fog of ages, and she would indeed like to know more of what she has forgotten over the years. It is clear, though, that she is a fairly ordinary woman of possibly the eldest known species in the multiverse. She’s lived through at least four different collapses (societal, galactic and even truly cosmic levels) and in conjunction with the constant disasters she sees on an almost daily basis, she’s become something of a hyper anxious nervous wreck.

She is a member of her species commonly referred to as a brood queen; she reproduces asexually, gestating and producing hundreds of offspring that she can then implant in physically receptive mortals - and in turn give her offspring some of their traits and gradually help her own people adapt to changing circumstances - and her relationships with mortals can cause her to gestate entire new species from them. AS a consequence she’s always been rather sheltered and tends to be very codependent on those around her for emotional support.

In fairly recent years, she has done her best to assume ordinary jobs free from stress and Adventure. She does well as an archaeologist, not so much seeing it as uncovering mysteries as remembering things that modern folk have forgotten or laid aside, but unfortunately that does tend to involve a lot of adventure. Invariably, whether she is a cleaner or manager or professor of magic, she winds up entangled in stressful situations.

Personality: Most people, blessed with powers that make humans look like wimps and a natural form of immortality - or something close to it - would probably be a bit arrogant if they spend all their time around those doomed to die by the advance of time. Lilisheb is not one of those people; fundamentally sweet, kind-hearted and as inclined to nastiness as a lump of jelly, she is deeply loving and is a stable center despite being a primordial mass of shapeshifting immortal flesh.

She’s very anxious in pretty much any high-octane situation or what takes her out of a comfort zone… which is bad for her since most of the events I write her into are full of ADVENTURE. This all despite her being borderline indestructible. She does her best to stay calm, which usually lasts for all of a few seconds.

Outside of constantly panicking when villains attack, giant monsters start fighting or she gets pulled into a treasure hunt as a meat shield, she’s a friendly and kind entity, doing her best to put others at ease. She is very affectionate, and doesn’t have much interest in social norms. She shows her love the ways that feel right to her, even if this means sucking you right into her with an overly affectionate hug! Her basis deamonir is like a combo of bubbly and sedate, easygoing but very cheerful about it. Because her people tend to take a very long response to anything, she comes off as obnoxiously airheaded to her people. She does her duties calmly and without emotion, and often serves as a living couch to her smaller friends..

Species: Her people are commonly referred to as shoggoths, but their own word for themselves - roughly translated into one human language - can be rendered as ‘eldlimi’, or eldlimus in singular. They are unbelievably old, and hold a competitive place for ‘oldest beings in the known multiverse’ alongside the Transformers of Cybertron, the giants of the elemental planes, and various precursor societies. They have little common appearance, generally manifesting as a mass of amorphous flesh that is almost liquid in its flowy-ness. They can learn to assume whatever form suits them, though they are often inclined to use certain morphs as a default. Tentacles, multiple eyes, and aquatic traits dominate their instinctive forms, suggesting that their true origin is deep sea.

Certainly the eldlimi are very, very old and established, having stood as masters of the cosmos time and time again. They hold a position for establishing cosmic councils where all civilizations can meet together and peacefully negotiate for the future, and did so shortly after recovering from their most recent collapse. Due to their age, they tend to not take ordinary mortals too seriously, but at worst they tend to infantilizing others, rather than cruelty or oppression.

Fandom: Original. While heavily influenced by shoggoths from Lovecraft’s mythos, she bears little resemblance to either them or their outlook in a practical sense. She’s more or less her own thing.

Abilities: As typical with her people, she is a shapeshifter and can remold her amorphous body into nearly any shape. She can manifest a seemingly limitless number of limbs, eyes or even produces mouths or relevant organs from her body. (Multiple breasts, mouths of any shape or more delicate, unusual transformations are well within her power.) On the same note, she can alter her body to produce certain liquids or chemicals as she sees fit, assuming she knows what they are made of and the details of their production. She could make herself lactate enormous amounts of super-nutritious milk, for instance, but not super-flammable organic gasoline unless she worked out its chemical composition first.

She can grow smaller or larger, with no real limitation besides the mass she has available to work with, though she naturally gravitate towards larger, squishier forms. She can produce as many eyes or limbs as she requires, but leans towards tentacles rather than hands or feet. While she can force her insides into a rigid framework like a skeleton or even an exoskeleton for armor, she finds this deeply uncomfortable and prefers not to. She also cannot change her body’s consistency from its natural spongey nature, and thus she cannot disguise herself as a different species.

Her body’s amorphous nature grants her some other advantages. She can extend her jaws and swallow anything whole no matter the size, as long as she can wrap around it, and make her digestive acids extremely strong; she could even shift them around into her egg chambers, flushing them with regenerative liquids as an unbirthing method. She can push herself through most gaps and flow out like living water, and she is absurdly flexible thanks to her lack of an internal skeleton. Many attacks will simply pass through her if she remembers to decrease her solidity, and those that do hit her will likely be regenerated very quickly by her immortal flesh.

On a more prosaic note, while she claims to have no useful skills, her sheer age means she has picked up an extremely wide variety of skill sets. She has likely done every single conceivable non-violent career in existence, from plumber to manager to economics expert to caregiver… it goes on indefinitely, even if she can’t remember it or if they were so specific to a certain time’s technologies and social norms that they no longer have applicability. This gives her an enormous range in practical abilities, and incidentally makes her a fantastic teacher.

Height: Varies enormously; since she is a shapeshifter, she can be virtually any possible height if she has the mass to do it. She can’t just grow to whatever height she wants, as if she doesn’t have enough mass, she won’t be able to even stand up under her own power. She typically stabilized at around twelve feet or so, barring exceptionally large meals or unusual magical circumstances.

Relationships: She’s a friendly, sweet and gentle person somewhat prone to developing infatuations with people she has just met, so she has a LOT of friends and casual lovers, though it can be very hard to understand exactly what’s going on in her head. She is by far the single oldest of my OCs, even older than the likes of eons-ancient Jord, and tends to drift into the role of a den mother among her friends for that reason. She doesn’t have any established relationships as of this post, but some possibilities:

Sekhma - she thinks Miss Dionsi is cool, but way too serious! Relax a bit, no need to go all evangelical and stuff…. She may be one of Sekhma’s customers, seeking help for her chronic anxiety problems.

Pavumi - She has NO idea what Pavumi honestly is and that deeply worries her. She may be akin to her own people… or to their makers. This worries Lilisheb a lot, even though Miss Ekidna is a really nice lady!

Hivluk - what a handsome young man! She adores him, he’s just so sweet! For his part, he’s fine with her advances, as she is not even slightly scary.

Toast - she’s a xenophile sweetheart who wants everyone to be happy; he’s a loopy killing machine who wants to kill all humanity for what are probably imagined slights. They don’t get along at all for those reasons, but would probably be decent friends if that wasn’t an issue.

Odina: Besties!!! Both of them hate adventure, and would rather stay home and enjoy mundane, slice of life things. When together, Odina tends to be the more practical and sensible between the two, and gets sandwiched into her body a lot.

Pred Level: Moderate predator, with some prey levels. She is not primarily a predator-type, finding it horrifyingly cruel to swallow friends whole and hurt them no matter how hungry you are. Against threats, ordinary animals or genuine monsters, though, she has little problem simply swallowing them whole with as little interest as if she had finished off a fast food plate. It’s not her first course of action, though, and she is very reluctant to do this.

Prey Level: She’s likely vulnerable to more serious predatory specialists, due to her lack of combat skills and general timidity. Her prey levels are fairly high, owing to both the shape of her body and her trusting, timid personality. However, because of her regenerating flesh, its pretty much impossible to kill her through digestion alone; even one speck outside that gut will regenerate back to the true Lilisheb!

Relevant Kink Material: Xeno stuff in general; her shapeshifting powers offer many possibilities for Big Sexy Monster Girls. Her vast size, kindly demeanor and romantic inclinations are great sweetness material.