#these AU characters are the main blorbos being rotated in my mind these days
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The Park
AN: I've been on a modern AU spree! Minimal editing, as usual, because I was too excited to wait to post. This is set earlier on in the AU story, where Elvan's just kind of a shitty person but not a whumper yet, as well as the start of the story--how Elvan and Calyx meet.
CW: assault/mugging, bad caretaker
Calyx stuffed their hands in the pockets of their jacket and hunched their shoulders against the biting cold night air as they walked. It was Friday, but more importantly, it was pay day, and they were walking home with two weeks’ worth of wages in worn out bills gripped tightly in one hand inside their pocket. The wind whipped at their face and howled in their ears, drowning out all other sounds, so they didn't hear the three men approaching from behind. They got no warning before a fist collided with their face. The blow sent them reeling directly into another assailant's punch and they were ricocheted between the three men surrounding them. One of the men grabbed their upper arms from behind—they tried to kick out at the man in front of them but he easily dodged and punched them in the stomach, causing them to double over just as the one holding them back let go. They fell to the ground and immediately felt a kick in their back. They threw their hands up to protect their face as another boot came flying towards them. Someone grabbed a fistful of their hair and dragged them up to their knees, holding them in place as another tore their jacket off of them, then the man behind them bodily restrained them while another searched the pockets of their jeans, taking their phone, their wallet, even their keys. As if still not enough, they felt someone tug their boots off. When the men were satisfied that they had taken everything there was to take, they released Calyx onto the ground, kicking them a few more times to make sure they would stay down, then ran away into the darkness with their spoils.
No one came to help as the minutes elapsed and Calyx lay on the asphalt, trying to process what had just happened. It didn’t take long for the initial adrenaline rush to wear off, and they became aware of how badly hurt they were. They could taste blood in their mouth, their whole face and body screamed in pain, and it hurt to breathe. And then they started shivering, violently, partly from shock and partly from the cold. The temperature was dropping quickly and they were now in just a thin t-shirt, jeans, and socks. They knew they needed to get home. Fighting back the urge to throw up, they crawled to their feet and began the now seemingly interminable journey back to the apartment.
It didn’t take long for their extremities to start going numb; they were pretty sure they accidentally stepped on some broken glass a couple blocks earlier but couldn’t feel anything. They finally stumbled through the front doors of their building and looked dejectedly at the taped-off elevator across the lobby. It had been broken for months and the building manager said it would be fixed soon, but he seemed to have a very generous definition of “soon.” They braced themself and turned to the dimly lit concrete stairs instead.
By the time they got to their floor, they were practically crawling on all fours, and had to take a moment to drag themself back up and stagger down the hall. They hoped against all hope that Elvan was home. They didn’t have their keys, and this wasn’t the type of neighborhood where people talk to their neighbors, let alone hand out spare keys. Unsurprisingly, the door was locked, and no amount of banging their fist against it brought anyone to open it. Feeling the last of their strength leaving them, they slumped against the door and slid to the floor.
Elvan wasn’t surprised when she opened the door from the stairwell to her floor. She had noticed the faint bloody footprints on the steps leading up. Sure enough, towards the end of the hall, a small figure was curled up against her apartment door. She sighed deeply and made her way over. The sound of her key turning in the lock above their head pulled them out of whatever state of half unconsciousness they were in and they looked up at her with tears in their eyes. She unlocked the second deadbolt, then helped them to their feet and supported them with one arm as she opened the door. She dropped her bag near the entrance and practically lifted them into her arms, kicked the door closed behind her, and brought them into the bathroom.
“What happened to you?”
She had them sit on the closed toilet as she stepped back into the hall to lock the front door again, then returned to rifle through the bathroom drawers for the first aid kit.
“Got jumped.”
“Take off your clothes.”
They had noticeable difficulty lifting their arms more than a few inches, so she helped them pull their t-shirt over their head, then their jeans and socks, leaving them in just their briefs. Large bruises were already visible all over their torso and arms.
“What did they get?” Elvan asked as she knelt down in front of Calyx, unzipping the red pouch in her hands and laying it out on the tile floor.
“Everything.” They watched her movements dejectedly as she tore open a little packet and pulled out a disinfectant wipe, then carefully started cleaning the dried blood off their face, causing them to wince in pain as the alcohol made contact with open cuts.
“Stay still.” Elvan held their head in place with her free hand. She finished cleaning their face and threw out the now bloody gauze. She sat back and picked out a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit. Supporting the back of their heel with her free hand, she began pulling out the shards of glass embedded deep in the sole of their foot. They hissed in pain but she held their ankle steady and didn’t stop.
“What specifically?”
They forced themself to think back instead of focusing on the current sensation. “Uh… Wallet, phone, keys… Two weeks’ pay from work…” They lowered their eyes into their lap. “Jacket and shoes.”
Elvan’s hand stopped moving momentarily. “Those boots were expensive, you know.”
Calyx mentally berated themself for letting some thugs steal the nice boots Elvan had so thoughtfully bought for them. “I know… I’m sorry.”
She resumed her ministrations, less gently now than before. Calyx bit their tongue to keep quiet and tried not to cry. She finished extracting the broken glass, then cleaned their lacerated soles, applied antibacterial ointment, and bandaged them with gauze.
Elvan packed up the first aid kit and returned it to its place. She motioned for Calyx to stand, which they did gingerly, slowly shifting their weight onto their soles. It still hurt, but not like before; if not for the numbing cold, they would not have been able to walk home after the broken glass.
Calyx sat on the sofa in the living room holding a bag of frozen peas to the side of their face to try to fight off the black eye that was already forming. A couple of their teeth on that side had been knocked loose and they couldn’t close their mouth fully without searing pain shooting up their face all the way to their eye. They felt nauseous at the mere mention of food, so Elvan had instead given them some pills and made them a cup of tea to try to relax. The mug sat on the coffee table before them and they watched the steam rising from the surface of the liquid, curls of vapor swirling around each other into the air and disappearing. Elvan hadn’t yet asked the question Calyx was dreading, and it was the only thing about the incident she had not yet asked, so they stayed quiet and kept their eyes down in the hopes they could avoid prompting it.
Elvan, for her part, sat in the armchair across from them and contemplated her whiskey, holding the glass up to watch the light filter through the pristine amber liquor. Neat, as always. She liked the burn. It made her feel alive.
She knew they were waiting for the last question, hoping she wouldn’t think to ask. She was in no rush to ask; besides, she already knew the answer. She watched them from across the coffee table, nursing their bruised and battered face and body with the frozen peas and occasionally taking little sips of the tea, never looking up at her. Finally she finished her drink and set the heavy glass down with finality.
“Where?”
Calyx lowered their head. It was time for that conversation.
“Well?”
They licked their suddenly dry lips. “It was…” There was absolutely no point in trying to lie to Elvan. “It was by the park.”
Elvan did not react at all. She just let the seconds stretch on. Calyx tried to break the uncomfortable silence with a quiet apology, but Elvan interrupted them mid-sentence.
“What have I told you about the park?”
They still couldn’t bring themself to meet her steady gaze.
“To avoid it after dark.”
“And what did you do today?”
“I…went there after dark.” Their face burned in shame.
“Now, why would you do such a stupid thing?”
Tears sprang into their eyes. They seemed to have forgotten about holding the frozen peas to their face, and the bag dropped onto the sofa beside them, where the condensation on the outside immediately started soaking into the upholstery fabric.
She raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t rhetorical.”
“I… I don’t know… I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have…”
Elvan’s face was hard. “You have no jacket, no shoes, no phone, no money, and I’m going to have to have the locks replaced.”
Calyx flinched as though they had been struck. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I—I can get more money, I have work tomorrow and I can ask my boss to get paid sooner—”
Elvan interrupted with a harsh laugh. “You can barely stand up on your own. There’s no way you’re going back to work tomorrow, or any time soon, for that matter.”
She wasn’t wrong, as much as Calyx hated to admit it. They definitely couldn’t go back to work in this condition, and besides, they didn’t even own any shoes now; that had been their only pair.
They didn’t know what to say. They did something stupid, and now they were paying the consequences. The guilt almost hurt more than the physical pain—Elvan had always been so generous to them, saved their life, let them live in her apartment, bought them new shoes when their old ones were in tatters, even helped them get this job. She had told them that that route was dangerous and they had ignored her, and now she was once again picking up the pieces of their stupidity.
“I’m sorry,” they repeated in a whisper. A fresh round of tears ran down their face.
“It’s honestly impressive you’ve made it this far without accidentally dying; I don’t know how you ever survived on your own.”
Well, it certainly hadn’t been through any skill on their part.
Before they met Elvan they were sleeping in doorways and on park benches hugging a backpack that contained all their worldly possessions. It was a night not too unlike this one, a bit earlier in the fall of the preceding year, when they had been sitting outside in the doorway of what had until recently been a satellite branch office of a bank, but was now a locked building full of cardboard boxes and empty shelves with dirty, torn letters peeling ff the windows. There was a nightclub a few doors down the block across the way, and Calyx watched patrons come and go under the neon lights that spilled into the otherwise dark street, those waiting in line excited and impatient, and those coming back out laughing raucously and stumbling as they struggled to walk in a straight line. They shivered in their thin shirt and hugged their backpack tighter to themself, as if that could fill the emptiness in their stomach. It had been a couple days since they last ate, and they were exhausted and freezing even during the day. They gazed longingly at the nightclub, watching the people coming out, the women in short dresses and the men with their sleeves rolled up and ties loosened, and imagined how warm it must be inside, imagined being in the middle of that mass of humanity, the feeling of warm bodies against theirs, food and drink filling the cold emptiness inside them. Lost in thought, they didn’t hear footsteps approaching; they suddenly saw something enter their peripheral vision and they flinched back, directing their attention to what had just appeared. It was a twenty dollar bill, and it was being extended out to them by a tall figure standing a few feet away. The person was apparently a biker, dressed in a leather jacket, high boots, and a helmet whose dark visor obscured their face. The biker stood silently with the bill in their hand, waiting for Calyx to react. Recovering from their surprise, they hesitantly reached out and took the money, then looked back and forth between the money and where they figured the biker’s eyes would be behind the visor.
“Th-thank you,” they said hesitantly, then with more confidence. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
The biker nodded once, then turned and walked into the night without a word, and after a few minutes they heard the sound of a motorcycle disappearing into the distance. That was the first time they had seen her—Elvan—although at the time they didn’t know her name, or anything else about her, even her gender.
Calyx agonized over what to spend their twenty dollars on; they desperately wanted a jacket for the increasingly cold nights, but they were starving. Ultimately they decided food was more pressing, and they would carefully ration their twenty dollars to make it last over a week, buying something cheap in the morning and eating it bit by bit throughout the day to make it feel like more. They stayed in the same spot in front of the former bank on the off chance the biker would pass by again, but after a few days without any sign they gave up hope of seeing the generous stranger again.
In fact, not long after the biker, the owner of the bank building sent people to kick them off of his stoop—apparently it was important that no one block the passage to this locked and abandoned office space—and they had had to find a new place to sleep. They had settled on a wooden bench in the park; it was rather narrow and uncomfortable, but it kept them off the cold ground that leached all the heat out of a person. The twenty dollars were long gone by now, and the familiar effects of hunger were back. A few days ago they had watched a couple people trying to feed half a bagel to an utterly disinterested squirrel in the park before getting impatient and tossing the bagel onto the grass and walking away. Calyx watched them go and, once they seemed far enough away, quickly walked over to the patch of grass and picked up the bagel. They dusted off a bit of dirt but it seemed otherwise like a perfectly good breakfast. They shoved it into their pocket for later. It had lasted them a while, taking little nibbles of it every few hours until it was gone. That was yesterday morning, and now, as the last daylight disappeared behind the buildings surrounding them, they dreaded another miserable night in the cold. Just as they were about to lay down on their bench, they became aware of someone walking down the path in their direction. They squinted into the darkness and made out a tall, dark figure holding something under one arm. As the person got nearer, they could see the object they were holding was a motorcycle helmet. When they looked closer at the person’s clothes, they recognized the leather jacket and tall boots belonging to the biker with the twenty. They sat bolt upright, no longer interested in sleeping. As the biker approached, Calyx got a look at their face for the first time and realized it was a woman with long black hair tied back in a thick braid. She glanced briefly in their direction when she noticed someone on the bench, but once she got closer she stopped and faced them, evidently remembering them from their previous encounter.
“Don’t you know this place isn’t safe at night?”
Calyx hesitated for a moment. They were aware that every night they slept here was a gamble as to whether they’d be attacked or have their belongings stolen. So far their luck was holding. “I know. I…got kicked out of my last spot.”
The biker curled her lip in disgust. Calyx wasn’t sure if it was directed at them.
They looked at each other in silence for several seconds before the biker tilted her head slightly and said, “Come with me.”
Calyx stared at her for a minute, trying to gather up a response, but their brain was working so slowly these days it was hard to think straight. Instead, they stood up from their bench, slung their backpack over one shoulder, and walked over to stand expectantly before the biker. One corner of her mouth tugged up in a slight smile and she turned to start walking, Calyx following obediently at her heel.
Calyx followed the woman through the neighborhood on the other side of the park. It wasn’t a good area, though that wasn’t anything Calyx wasn’t used to. They hunched their shoulders and stayed close to the intimidating presence of the biker, and before long the pair had reached what appeared to be an apartment building. A panel beside the door held a number pad and a list of doorbells for individual apartments. Some of them had family names written on them, but many of them just had numbers or were completely blank. The woman typed in a code and the door buzzed loudly as it was unlocked. She pushed it open and strode inside without turning around, and Calyx slipped in behind her before the door slammed shut again. The lobby, if it even deserved that name, was just a few dozen square feet of concrete separating the front door from a stairwell to the left, an elevator that looked like it hadn’t been serviced since the ’80s on the opposite side, and a wall of mailboxes on the right. Like the panel on the outer door, many of the mailboxes were either blank or labelled with only a number. The biker took one look at Calyx’s emaciated frame, leaning against the wall for support, and pressed the button to call the elevator. They rode it up to the seventh floor in silence, a lurching, clanking ride that if Calyx were more alert would have made them nervous. Once at her floor, the woman walked down to the last door in the hall and began undoing the locks. There were two keys and Calyx could hear a number of deadbolts sliding out of their slots as the keys turned.
When they finally entered the apartment, it was not at all what they expected. From a hallway where the paint was peeling off the wall, they stepped onto a polished hardwood floor. The woman shut and locked the door behind them, then flicked a light switch. Craning their neck to see further into the apartment, they saw furniture upholstered in smooth leather, and dark wood details all around.
The woman deposited her helmet near the entrance and went into the kitchen. Calyx remained standing at the edge of the room, unsure of what to do with themself.
“What's the last thing you ate and when?”
Calyx blinked at her, slightly taken aback by the very specific question.
“Uh… I had half a bagel a couple days ago.”
“When's the last time you had a real shower?”
“A few weeks, probably?”
“Bathroom's over there,” she said, gesturing to a door down the hall. “Clean yourself up. There's soap and a towel.”
They did as they were told. The bathroom was small and had no lock and the hot water apparently didn’t work, but after weeks of having access to nothing more than rusty sinks in public restrooms to wash themself, this felt luxurious. There was a bottle of 3-in-1 that smelled like pine trees that they worked into their greasy, tangled hair and over their body. They felt cleaner than they had in months and were slightly disappointed thinking about the dirty clothes they would have to put back on once they were done, but when they stepped out and dried themself off, they saw a stack of neatly folded clean clothes on the counter by the door that definitely weren't there when they came in. There were boxers, gym shorts, and a t-shirt, all several sizes too big, but that didn't matter. Calyx put them on, tying the drawstring on the shorts tight to keep them up, and returned to the main room of the apartment.
When the woman saw them appear, she said, “I hope those fit okay. You're very small.” They nodded in response.
She gestured to the dining room table. “Sit. Eat.”
Their eyes lit up when they saw the bowl laid out for them. It was some kind of stew with meat and chickpeas and vegetables and spices that they didn't have names for. They slid into the proffered seat and wasted no time in digging in. It was a very small quantity, but they weren't about to complain about this stranger's hospitality. They would have wished it was something they could stow away for later, but seeing as it wasn't, they instead scarfed down the whole thing before it could be taken away from them.
The woman, meanwhile, had poured herself a drink and was sipping it while watching them thoughtfully, leaning back against the kitchen counter. When they finished the stew and cleaned every bit from the bowl, they suddenly felt self-conscious about being watched. They picked up their bowl and spoon and brought them over to the kitchen sink to wash, ducking past the woman’s steady gaze. Once they had set the utensils on the drying rack and turned around, they found themself face to face with her. Until now they had only seen her from afar, at night, or in passing, and now they were struck by her appearance. She was intimidatingly attractive. Icy blue eyes with dark flecks bore into them like a knife. A strong nose that showed signs of having been broken in the past, cheeks faintly pockmarked by old acne scars, outlined by a strong jawline and high cheekbones on a broad face.
“Why are you helping me?” Calyx blurted out before they could stop themself. “I—I can’t pay you back for any of this.”
She smiled behind her glass and said, “Because you’re far too pretty to waste on the streets.” She lifted her free hand to stroke Calyx’s face. “Don’t worry, I’m not looking for financial repayment.”
Their breath caught in their throat and they suddenly couldn’t bring themself to make eye contact. They stammered something incoherent and stared at the floor as they felt the heat spread across their face.
The woman laughed, a deep rumble that resonated through her chest, evidently amused by their reaction. Without a further word, she finished the last of her drink and pushed herself away from the counter.
When Elvan stepped out of her bedroom the following morning, the stray she had picked up the night before was curled up on the living room floor by the radiator, the blanket from the couch wrapped tightly around them. She nudged them with her foot and they moaned quietly in their sleep, but did not stir; she nudged them again and they suddenly jolted awake, looking slightly panicked until they remembered where they were.
She trudged to the bathroom, passing through the kitchen on the way to flick the kettle on, and when she returned the kid had folded the blanket and was sitting beside it on the couch. They immediately got up when they saw her, but didn’t seem to know why, as they just stood awkwardly in place, looking vaguely at the floor between the two of them. Elvan returned to the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea and leaned against the counter to watch them as it steeped. They were undeniably beautiful, despite their gaunt frame and hopelessly matted hair, with wary green eyes that couldn’t seem to settle on anything and a pretty little mouth she couldn’t wait to feel parting under her fingers.
“Tell me your name,” she said.
“Uh, Calyx,” they replied after a second. They looked expectantly at her, waiting for her to say her own name, but she didn’t; she simply filed away the name for future reference and sipped her tea without taking her eyes off them.
After another stretch of silence, the kid—Calyx—spoke up again. “I should go,” they said abruptly, but didn’t sound convinced. Elvan failed to suppress a laugh.
“And do what, exactly?”
The question took them off guard. They floundered to respond. “I—uh—what?”
Elvan raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t exactly look like you had places to be when I found you last night.”
A pinkish hue spread across their cheeks. “I…” Their voice became quiet. “No, I don’t.”
“So—what, you should go sit around on park benches and doorways and continue to slowly starve to death, assuming you don’t freeze first?”
They seemed to shrink into themself at that.
“Well,” Elvan said, tossing their backpack in their direction. “Let’s see how long you can last.”
Clutching their bag to their chest, they stared at her for just a moment, then turned and ran to the door, picking up their shoes but not stopping to put them on, and ran out of the apartment before she could see the tears in their eyes.
12 notes · View notes
demonicintegrity · 1 year ago
Text
Been rotating fanfiction as a concept in my head since I reblogged cryptotheism's post the other day. And instead of starting my large perspective drawing due tonight I'll write down some misc. thoughts.
I love fanfiction. And I've been an avid fandom person since middle school. Before I really used Ao3 I was on Fanfic.net learning the citrus scale and woefully unprepared to filter my content. Those were days lmao.
And one thing the sticks in my mind most is that not all fanfiction is a transformative work. But it sure as hell does blur the line.
Y'see a transformative work is a term used when discussing fair use because the tl:dr of it is that it places a work in a new light enough to be considered it's own thing. Think of all the fairytale re-imaginings or reboots that are basically their own thing but with the same characters. (That ladder being harder to produce legitimately because of how our copyright works, but the same concept.)
Fanfiction isn't transformative, not inherently. Most fanfiction is just taking your blorbos and putting them in a scene you want them to be in. It's not creating a fundamentally new story. Most of the time it's just an addition the already existing work, a love (or hate) letter to the art itself.
However, there are times when fanfiction does create its own stories. And here's when the line blurs. Common tropes can be expanded upon enough to develop characters in a new light.
Timeline rewrite aus are where the obvious start is. "What if's" that take the characters on different paths. It's not it's own story technically, it's exploring a path the canon could've taken, but if done right can feel like it's own book.
(Alternate Universes is where the line blurs. Because now you're actively creating a world that is creating this new light where these characters are in. How expansive this new universe's building is dictates how much the line blurs.)
There are companion stories, where knowledge of the main canon enhances the understand but might not be necessary. Oc centered stuff falls here, as does pre-canon fics, and explorations of background stuff where the author saw a character with two lines and decided to build them an entire life.
There are the wildly different aus, where the new world is something incompatible with canon. The obligatory Human!aus fall here when the entire canon being referenced has little to no humans whatsoever. College!aus as well, human or not, because the main canon didn't and could not have room for that sorta coming of age story. Crossovers might be here too, for their ability to merge worlds and make lines that don't exist.
It's funny, because the most transformative fanwork is the one most often criticized within fandom. The au of an au, the reworking a character so theyre unrecognizable from the sources besides maybe a shared name. That is arguably most transformative because of how disconnected it feels from the original.
But truly, I think the main difference between fanfic and transformative work is the intent. When you set out to build a world that retelling of whatever thing in common use with the explicit intent to play with it's characters and themes but to be new, is when you're truly being transformative.
Take all the adaptions of Shakesphere's work. In high school I watched a production of A Midsommer's Night in Jersey. It was so fun. The key difference between adaptations of Shakesphere's work and fanfiction is the intent. It's a retelling, not an addition or a companion or a "what if."
And I think that's what makes it's so blurry. Because when you get deep in your muse and rewrite an existing world or write your own to put the blorbos in, you tread into the territory of that intent even though that's not necessarily where you've started from.
I think we've seen it slightly. It's gone from "Oh X is a ripoff of Y" to "Oh X is just a shameless fanfic of Y" Because if the two versions of X have a different conception being shamed, it's still called out through the act of being a homage/retelling/whatever of Y. And this is where citing your sources and being enthusiastic of your inspirations comes to an important play.
7 notes · View notes
maladaptivenightmare · 2 years ago
Text
para time
hello. you probably know me as ender on glitchender. let’s any% speedrun abandoning a side blog i created impulsively.
I’m Ender (she/her), 21, and my days consist of rotating my blorbos in my mind’s microwave during my long ass shifts, so my life’s kinda shit atm!
I post a little fandom stuff because some of my paras are from other media and I imagine them just vibing with me sometimes. The rest of them are the ocs from my own paracosm/story. I haven’t gotten to posting a lot of it but you can find some of it on nogeniifes (canon story stuff) and ask-nogeniifes (unrestrained summer fun). I guess what differentiates this blog from those other ones is I will post both canon and not canon stuff. Maybe the blorbos will talk to each other from different universes. I dunno!
Tags:
paragif - ngif (N.ogenïfes) paracosm
A series of unfortunate events have lead to humanity’s downfall, forced to live in eternal darkness underground or pit themselves to eternal servitude to their new magic-wielding, alien overlords made up of several species which include the already native monsters. Surely, the powers that be can do something about all this suffering brought on by mortal sin, right? Right?
Paras: a lot
Content warning: a lot. Primarily s/icide, political unrest, xenoreligion, and ab/se
paranautica - s.ubnautica au paracosm
I added personified biomes to 4546B that serve as guardians to their respective biomes. That’s the au. I have almost nothing for below zero so far, sorry.
Paras: A lot. Mostly ocs. Faves are Nunbei, Taoga, Ulysses, and R.yley. A.l-an is also here but he’s not in the au I just love him.
Content warning: thalassophobia
parasmartz - kids-psa-no-one-remembers au paracosm
C.licky was evil at one point so I brought back the W.izzy W.igs. The new canon also sucks so I’m taking the wheel back from jesus. If you’re curious the original is NetSmartz kids.
Content warning: mentions of child endangerment, internet safety psas? idk
parobey - o.bey me paracosm (blog: demondennys)
Paras: The main characters and also like 7 paraselves from ngif because the bros are hot
Content warning: demons, dating sims?, some death as a treat
parobserve - o.bey me au paracosm
MC is a gender neutral scientist. The demons are being magically enhanced because S.olomon wants to make a pact with the demon king.
Paras: Again, the main characters. L.ilith was there but slightly to the left and it wasn’t actually her.
Content warning: human experimentation/projects, demons, religious themes, prior ab/se
pararising - f.light r.ising clan (user id: 78103/526781; blog: fr-glitchender) paracosm
Dragons went missing. Dragons went to investigate. Dragons went missing. Dragons went to investigate. Dragons went missing. Dragons went to investigate and it gets really weird. There’s also ghosts.
Content warning: dragons, disappearances
paramon - p.okémon paracosm
Coco is a member of T.eam S.tar’s S.chedar S.quad and aspires to become a new boss through either defeating one of the bosses herself or by somehow convincing the Big Boss to add a sixth squad, P.olaris S.quad. A D.ragonite she inherited from her recently deceased aunt, who worked in A.rea Z.ero, is desperately trying to explain what it had witnessed, but it seems it might be too late. By the time the newest student arrives at N.arenje/U.va Academy, Coco has only become a shell of her former self. Something has taken over her, and has lead to her strange transition from dragon types towards ghost types.
Paras: Most of the characters are pretty much the same but Coco is there
Content Warning: ghost type possession, mentions of death
gomaddgostupid - non canon things
para: (character) - the blorbo
0 notes