#vessel's spite (oc)

[dreamcastingdust]

Its been a while since i drew him as a typhlosion

[chisatowo]

Slight Flutter dust redesign!

Bonus forbidden Flutter dust eyes

[notsohollow]

“Spite”

The Vindictive Vessel (Swap AU)

Identifies as agender, uses they/them and it/its pronouns

Three feet eight inches tall

Despite Spite’s name, they are hardly malicious towards those who they consider family. Having been taken in by Brumm and inducted into the tattered remains of what was originally known as the Grimm troupe, they are one of the precious few still loyal to the scorned god of nightmares and flame. Having been cast down into the abyss by their mother and left for dead, they have taken the saying ‘the best revenge is living well’ literally and chose the name Spite for themselves because they want their continued existence to spite the one who wouldn’t have cared less had they truly met their end in the darkness of their birthplace as so many others had. They never had the chance to meet their biological father as he had fled the palace upon learning the truth, and they have very little desire to meet him. As far as they are concerned, if their parents couldn’t be bothered to care for them then they have little desire to do so in turn. They do not take being mistreated lightly and are known for holding grudges.

[captain-sharkie]

IDK IF I EVER POSTED THEM OR LIKE WHO THEY ARE GUYS (i plan on posting doodles of them soon..)

Oh god where is their ref. Fucking pressure oc i made 2 months ago oh my god.

MY SILL PRESSURE OC. LOOK AT THEM.

I made them out of spite, yes you heard that right.

Just because theres a goalie, does NOT mean you cant score,

Anyways, file info stuff etc under the cut

Z-15 "The Captain"

Samantha Reign was around their late 30's - early 40's and a naval captain of the military when they had been framed for causing a ship to explode the day they were supposed discharged for misconduct & mental health reasons.

They were framed by someone under the name of James Kane, another asset of Urbanshades. (I need to make him, idk what to call him tho.)

Sam was tested under the same human turned fish expriments as Sebastian and the Anglers, mixed with the following; Sea Angel, Sea Bunny & Firefly Squid.

originally before being adopted by UrbanShade as a subject, had lost their leg to it being blasted off from the same thing that had killed the majority of Navy Vessel 628-B (the thing they were framed for.)

Their memories of the incident had been wiped as soon as UrbanShade got to them, being one of the people helping with the breakout ran by "The Saboteur"

Abillities/Locations etc

Captain will appear in Sebastian's shop, off in the corner by the radio flipping a coin,

At this point you have the option to trade 5 batteries for a coin flip, with a 85.9% chance at getting heads, or a 24.1% chance at getting tails

You have up to 5 flips per run, if you use all 5 flips and try again Captain will take 25 points of HP

Odds being

Heads - 85.9% ( a random rare item, Gummy Flashlight, UV light, etc)

Tails - 24.1% (Gambler's Staff, a light up cane that doesn't effect squiddle's, has no battery, cannot be stolen by Lux [For context my partner's oc] however CAN effect Sebastian,)

They can also be found randomly in the high levels (70-100) selling medkit's and code breachers for batteries, as well as their file

Medkit - 2 batteries

Code breacher - 3 batteries

Captain's file - 5 batteries

Voice claim thing?

[nevernot-confused]

Who wants to see a Jacob's Sheep COTL oc?

Nobody?

Y'all are getting it anyway

This is Aries

I've been working on this ref sheet since 2023 and still hadn't chosen a name for her, so I googled the scientific name for domestic sheep and chose the coolest sounding word in it.

She's loosely inspired by a scene from Bamsara's The Rehabilitation of Death fanfic (it's great, check it out) where Narinder talks about his previous vessels. Aries was one of these vessels, but she wasn't the chosen lamb and didn't fully pass on to the afterlife out of pure spite. In game, I was thinking that she'd be a special boss for Purgatory.

Her soul still refuses to pass on after defeat, so she (somehow) finds a way to go to a different timeline where she was the chosen lamb. I haven't thought out the details of this timeline, so it's still kinda in the "it might happen, it might not" stage.

She's also on Art Fight!

https://artfight.net/character/4826292.aries

[hath-e]

Full Frontal, aka the guy who tumblr really hates to tag

So this blog is dedicated to the 4th coming of Char (yes Zoltan "Shadow the Hedgehogs edgy OC" Akkanen counts) so this time I'll talk about his 2nd and direct clone Full Frontal, this is a continuation of last weeks post about Banagher.

So let's talk about him: Full frontal is close biological clone of Char who posses the "will" of Char that the Sazabi absorbed and yet, in spite of it all he's still nothing like him, Char was a whole person filled with will and issues and goals and (gay) love, while Frontal as self described is a empty vessel to be filled with the wills of the people, a person to be exact Monaghan Bakharo, that's where he got his idea of excluding earth from the economic circle of the sides. Frontal also unlike Char is a nihilist like no other (the only one comparable in the franchise is Seed's Rau Le Creuset) to him none of this really matters at the end of time it will all be gone anyway. And that's what makes him a bad Char but a great rival to Banagher, they both are embodiment's of philosophies on 2 different ends of the spectrum, I already described Banagher as hope personified so I'll describe Frontal as despair personified (Gundam Unicorn is actually a Danganronpa reference 4 years prior to it's release).

The thing is however, Frontal fails and is taken back into Char when he sees that Banaghers hope is stronger then the cold void of the end of time, and so he gives in, and while Lalah takes Banagher back to UC 96 safely, Frontal goes back in a way that leaves him dead and him returned back to Char in the afterlife.

So yeah I really really like Unicorn and can't wait to talk about Narrative next week (also Angelo is getting his own post at some point cuz I love him)

tomorrow Xi Gundam Design part 4 and after that Mirai Noa

(Img source is a screencap from Gundam Unicorn)

[linadoodledump]

((Since this entire timeline worth of sketches were made on the promise of having an interactive bishop verse accessible for my own Lamb OC, I am gonna make a quick rundown/summary on how they had progressed from a shy, timid sheep to the more calm, outspoken character they are in their own written universe. So expect this post to be filled with either a lot of lore or even fun facts since I did spend nearly two weeks on this right art before I heard the sins of the flesh was being released this month. Anyway, now that we got that outta the way, here we go.

Mortal (20-24yrs old) - Shorter than their later counters, born with small horns that barely did much to defend themselves, and being somewhere on the autism spectrum... Being somewhat a powerfully strong giant amongst their own flock, they were a sheep who had been sheltered most of their mortal life who lived somewhat high in the flock hierarchy due to their parents wanting them to have a life that lived far from the bishops influence. Due to their sheltered nature, they were not familiar with the gods that much or at the very least their family had pledged their lives into a long gone deity who had died out despite their casual worship. Religion wasn't as forced upon their village since their own people had closed themselves off from the rest of the island shortly after their world had been cut off from the universe over a godly banishment many generations ago. Their people did not agree with the way the lesser gods that would take to caring for their very people, and it was what had brought them to be the last to the slaughter when the Bishops had commanded for their sacrifice.

Most of their life still remains vague to the Lamb after their final death bringing them to their current Godhood, as their memories had been burned as did their village had been to be erased by the followers of the Old Faith.

Vessel (10-20 into the cult lifestyle after the final death) - Now reborn into a new body that had been literally remade to better accustom the influence of the red crown and Nariender's desires of having a cult built in his name, the Lamb bore a more confidant persona void of the previous shyness they once were. Already growing their horns in with a nice touch of the crown's power flowing through them, their mind has been quick to adapt to the new cult lifestyle their old God of Death had placed them in, the red crown had given them knowledge to use weapons and how to use them. Their hair had grown long alongside them, showing the tests of time displaying their self neglect as they devoted their person to growing a flock of followers for their own gain. With their adapt personality and having the charm of a golden heart that led them being more soft on their followers than their master would've liked... they had married their first follower, a lil gray haired deer named Jewel, who they up most favored until the time of the deer's own death. Jewel did not get to see until later, upon their late revival, that the Lamb had gone and defeated the God of Death shortly after their passing.

If the Cat couldn't have brought them back even as the Lamb had gone and defeated the bishops as Nariender had asked, they backstabbed him for not keeping up the end of his own deal. They still spared the cat regardless of the pain, and even married him to spite his protests, but it did not mean they didn't put TTOW through hell though. To work out his debt, the Lamb had made the cat their priest to forever makeup for the pain they endured for their old master.

God (200-300 into their cult) - Now nurturing a colony made of 300 hundreds and 100 spouses made of devoted followers who they favored heavily to live forever by their side, they've grown into a multi-titled deity who had managed to bring back the old bishops from the depths of purgatory whilst stealing their crowns from them as payback for putting them to their final death. They are the last god in the lands, and in order to keep it that way they stole the bishops crowns to have for themselves to wield, and it is only fair they gave the crowns a new home where they properly belonged. Wanting to keep the bishops from power, while alongside marrying them as a quiet side reminding them to stay on their good side, they had decided to keep them as followers to keep an eye on them as they are; free of freedom as punishment for their wrong doings.

The Lamb by this time is more formally known as the Emperor now that the lands have come to recognize them as the last physical god of all the lands. They have long since had a hivemind made ever since the crowns had started to talk to them amongst their own thoughts, and they have extended this right to their spouses too. Even as their physical bodies might've died for a period of time, their spirit still lives on in the hivemind until the lamb can get a ritual ready for their bodies to be reborn anew again. When you are a spouse of the lamb, you are forever apart of them, and it's only right their favorites get the perks of being something special for their own enjoyment. :3

Multi Grand Divinity (2,000-???, it has been many centuries since they usurp their benefactor) - Long since their colony had stretched itself out far and wide until the lands had transformed into their people's home, the Lamb has grown into a newer form as their cult did alongside them. They can't do crusades as much as they used too, for with their tall size they have more people to do missionaries and the work for them, as their body has grown to be more accustomed to growing more power in their wake. The crowns had gotten bored with their last arrangement with their little host, for trading some simple devotion the Lamb had asked for only peace in their body alongside keeping their own individuality, and they had decided to forever take root in their home. When crowns get bored and decided to reproduce asexually, more lil crowns started to spread more deeper into the Emperor's frame like an odd fungus; slowly taking over their body just to allow themselves more room since their last apartment arrangement. The lamb has grown a couple new arms since then, but they only ever hide them when they are not running to travel in their own free time. They've even regained some of their vision since this new crown arrangement, but it came at the cost of it looking more stranger than the crowns first found it. Regardless though, their height and power makes up for what they sometimes lack.

[twelvebooksstuff]

The Boat

This is the first chapter in my Jurassic Park inspired fic!! It focuses on Sal (one of the interns and OCs from my previous post for @fyeahjurassicocs bingo challenge 😌) who has taken a boat from Isla Nublar and is escaping, trying to get medical help for Ian Malcolm, who otherwise will die from sepsis/blood loss. The veterinarian for Jurassic Park (Dr. Gerry Harding) is useless when it comes to saving human lives and so the best chance for survival is to head to InGen’s other primary location, on Isla Sorna, where Dr. Henry Wu is confident they will find help-after all, his brother is in charge of the so-called “Site B.” 

Without further ado:

The Boat

Sal was scared, alone, standing at the helm of the ship, wondering what she could do to keep them safe, determined not to fail after having come so far. She pulled the ropes back on the sail, adjusting slightly, trying to keep the course all the way ahead, to that island north of where they left, the one Henry Wu had told them all about, the one called Isla Sorna.

She shivered as a chilly gust of wind blew quite fierce through her and the sails. White caps of large-crested waves sprayed over the edge of the sailboat, filling Sal’s eyes with stinging salt. She blinked quickly, rubbed her face on the sleeve of her light sweater, and shook her head-anything to clear her vision. Gasping for breath as another wave hit, Sal shut her eyes and mouth as she rocked with the movement of the vessel. It was easier to adapt to the water and go with its flow than to obstinately hunker down and try to steer with uncompromising motion. By swaying with the jolting of the boat, she stood firm, making sure to always angle the path north. 

Once we get there, many concerns will have to be taken care of, Sal thought. Food, shelter, hygiene, defense…and of course Ian Malcolm’s leg…But in the meantime, she pushed those concerns away like clearing off a table and focused on the task at hand. Stay the course. Endure the storm. Reach the shore.

As the sun rose Sal still stood statuesque at the helm, steering towards the rosy red horizon. As if a dream had begun to fade into reality, she noticed a small swath of black at the bottom. Squinting, she realized it was true. An island loomed in the distance, and her boat was headed straight for it.

Angling the sails once more northward, Sal grinned in spite of everything. They were bound for land! 

That spark of hope kept the boat moving as surely as the winds did, sailing off into a strange, old world. 

[claudtrait]

more story oc's 💥 info under the cut

clementine (clem) finch is a young women who is currently a worker on the Interstellar Space Vessel (ISV 🤭). after her parents died, she got recruited by her god father and mentor chester newton. theres more to her lore wise but for now im just spiting out that info </3

the first photo is her at 21 and the second is her at 17 !!

fun little facts abt clem

her birthday is may 18th

she will do anything for a cronut

owns her fathers collection of cassettes which include oingo boingo, buzzcocks, the cars, pet shop boys, and a-ha

like most of my sims, shes a pretty big horror fan and loves to watch low budget horror films for fun

mk thats it for now

[my-sun-m00n-and-stars]

Cad Bane Smut

An excerpt from my Cad Bane x OC fanfic on AO3. 4k words.

The Sleight of Hand looked much like how Kiara remembered it. They entered through the small cargo bay made for transporting goods and prisoners. She glowered at the cages as she passed by, recalling the first time she had ever been aboard the vessel. They climbed the ladder up into the bowels of the ship, emerging into the cockpit.

“Why hello there, Master Bane! I have the ship prepared just as you asked for—all ready for launch. Is there anything else you require?” Todo popped out of seemingly thin air, his gears whirring with excitement. He paid Kiara no attention.

“Secure yerself fer takeoff n’ shut down,” Bane replied gruffly, pushing past the little droid to sit in the pilot’s chair. Todo seemed to wilt, and in spite of herself Kiara felt a pang in her chest for the little droid. 

“Hello Todo. Are you going to call me Mistress Scarr while we’re on this mission?” she teased. 

“Certainly not! I have one master, and that is Mister Bane. You are simply an asset!” he cried, pointing a quivering metal finger at her, as if the very idea of disloyalty to his creator caused him great anguish. 

“Quit harassin’ m’ droid n’ sit down. Let’s get off of dis cesspool n’ into hyperspace. Den ye can see de rest of de ship,” Bane barked. Rolling her eyes, Kiara obeyed, and Todo engaged his metal clamps onto the wall before shutting down, his yellow glowing eyes going dark. 

Based upon the size of the ship looking at it from the outside, Kiara was skeptical as to how much of it there was left to see. It was smaller than Slave One, and that had barely enough room to house multiple people. There only could have been one, maybe two more rooms that she had yet to discover on the vessel. 

Bane took off from the ship depot, carefully maneuvering above the tops of the buildings on 1330 but staying low enough so that he would not be in danger of grazing the roof of the level. He seamlessly merged into a skylane, and in the distance Kiara could see the golden rays of sunlight that signaled the existence of a porthole to the surface. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, absorbing the pleasant warmth on her face as the cockpit became illuminated by the natural light of the sky as they emerged into the fresh air.

She took one last glance at the exit she would have taken to fly back to her apartment, and then it was gone, and they were soaring above the top level of Coruscant. Instinctively she scanned the horizon for the Jedi Temple, and the Senate building that resided adjacent to it. Her breath caught in her chest as she squinted at the small glint of a window on the top floor of the Senate building, where she knew the Chancellor’s office was located. But that too faded away as they climbed higher, the horizon turning deep navy blue as they entered orbit of the planet, waiting for their turn in the hyperspace lane.

She had always been enraptured by the view of Coruscant from the heavens. The bursts of warm light from the densely populated urban districts and the glowing lines that traced the most popular traffic lanes painted a beautiful, webbish picture. It truly was a shame that the planet held so much…anxiety for her. 

Although, said anxiety was ebbing more and more the further away from the surface they drew, and once inertia pinned her back into her seat when they entered hyperspace, it dissipated entirely. Sidious could not reach her now. Taron could not reach her now. For the next five days, it would just be her, Bane, and a neurotic droid as they made the long journey to Raxus on the opposite side of the galaxy. 

“Come. I’ll show ye de livin’ quarters,” Bane announced, unstrapping himself from the pilot’s chair now that the ship had stabilized into hyperspace travel. In the back of the cockpit was a door, and he lead her through it to a small kitchenette. It was smaller than the kitchen she and Darius had in their apartment, but looked to be just as functional with a stove, small icebox, sink, and oven. She nodded in appreciation, and he showed her through one more door to his chambers. 

She could not help but smirk. The queen-sized bed in the corner took up most of the space in the room. A small closet took up the entirety of the left wall. She wondered if he had identical racks of dusters and hats hanging up in there.

He watched her expression with a sneer. “Ain’t up t’ yer lavish standards?”

“I would have thought it wasn’t up to yours, given how you decorate your apartment,” she shot back.

“Dis ship is fer functionality. Ain’t no time fer relaxin’ when yer on de job,” he scoffed. She shrugged. 

“Not very functional for two people,” she pointed out. “Tell me, when you bring other partners on the job do they all sleep in your bed?” she asked, her voice lowering into a sultry rasp as she raised an inquisitive brow at him.

“Only de pretty ones,” he replied, his chest rumbling. Maintaining eye contact, she dropped her satchel of her few necessary belongings onto the floor.

“Don’t see the point in either of us wearing all of this gear when we’re all alone like this,” she almost whispered, toying with the strap of her armor. A fang popped out from his lips. She could see his internal battle with himself, torn between his lust and his resistance to her request for him to be naked. She shed her traveling cloak next, allowing it to pool into a puddle of black around her feet. He shrugged off his duster and satchel, allowing them both to clatter to the ground. Feeling brave, she took a step forward until their bodies were just inches apart. Gently, she trailed her fingers up the cloth of his tunic, letting her fingertips rest against the top button.

“Please?” she breathed, looking up at him through her lashes. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he lifted his fingers to replace her own, undoing the buttons of his shirt and allowing it to fall. Giddy, she set to work on her own armor, expertly loosing her straps and buckles. She could see in her peripheral vision as he removed his boots and gauntlets, his movements growing feverish. With a hiss, his breathing tubes detached and he set them carefully on the nightstand. Her own movements grew hurried as well, breathing deeply as she removed her utility belt and slunk out of her scales.

No sooner had she stripped down to her underwear than he was touching her, him in nothing but his undergarments. She drank in the sight of his nearly-naked body, running her hands over the lean muscles in his chest and arms, the bumps and divots of scar tissue, and the small differences in his reptilian anatomy. He touched her with just as much zeal, covering the creamy expanse of her skin with his large blue hands, squeezing, kneading, and massaging her curves. He latched his teeth onto her neck, sucking, biting, and leaving a trail of bruises in his wake. She clutched onto the exposed skin of his neck, lolling her head back to give him easier access.

“Get on de bed,” he commanded, and she did not need him to say it twice. She removed her bra as she crawled onto the bed, and shimmied out of her panties, throwing them aside.

Oh, how he had missed this sight. How he had pleasured himself to the memories of her body over the past six months. Part of him had questioned whether or not he would ever get the chance to have her in his bed again. He should have learned by now to never doubt himself.

“Eager lil’ thing,” he commented, tilting his head as he looked at her. “Flip over.” She did so instantly, her cheeks flushed in anticipation. He grabbed her by the ankles, and she yelped as he dragged her down to the end of the bed. She closed her eyes and lifted her hips into the air, waiting to be filled, wanton. 

She did not expect his tongue. She gasped out and lurched forward as he took a taste of her core. He gripped the backs of her thighs to steady her, practically pulling her backwards and onto his face.

He worked agonizingly slow. It was as if he was savoring every moment. His tongue worked languidly, the rough strokes starting at her clit, dipping inside of her pussy and tasting her sweetness, before dragging up to the end of her slit. He took deep breaths in between each lick, smelling the scent of her arousal. She felt her muscles tense every time he dragged the appendage over her bundle of nerves, sending spikes of pleasure shooting up her spine.

Kiara dared to look behind her, clenching the sheets as she watched Bane at work. He met her gaze with eyes narrowed in amusement, before he changed his pattern, focusing solely on her clit with his mouth. Jolts of pleasure washed over her as he settled into the rhythm that he had discovered six months ago that brought her to her finish.

She moaned and groaned as he worked on her, feeling that familiar feeling of release building up within her. He hummed appreciatively as her pussy began to produce more wetness in her heightened arousal, lapping up every drop eagerly.

She came in his mouth with a cry, clenching the sheets into her fists and her legs curling upward off of the floor. He remained latched on, bringing her to completion and then some, grunting as he attempted to lick up every last drop. Eventually her thrashing grew to be too much, and she threw him off of her as her body trembled, recovering from the intensity of her orgasm.

“Tastes even sweeter dan I remember,” he chuckled, and she felt him clamber on top of her as she lay on her stomach, her legs quivering. “Don’t tell me I licked de fight outta ya already,” he whispered into her ear, his fang grazing her lobe. He grabbed a pillow  from the top of the bed. Sliding one arm under her limp hips, he lifted her up just enough to slide the pillow under her hips, raising her pussy to the perfect angle.

“It’s been a while for me,” she said weakly in her defense as he nudged her legs apart, nestling himself in between them. She felt as he rested his heavy cock against the crack of her buttocks.

“Find dat hard t’ believe, seein’ as I watched ya go home wit’ dat rich brat de other night,” he replied as he sank two fingers into her cunt. “Still tight as ever, though,” he continued, almost in disbelief, as he began to work his fingers inside her, opening her up for him.

“I didn’t do that for pleasure, I did it for money,” she replied breathlessly, her face turning red as he explored her insides.

“But when I ask ya t’ do dat, it’s a problem,” he grumbled, his fingers growing more animated.

“Trillionaires are a bit of a different story,” she replied through gritted teeth, the wet sounds of her own pussy drowning out her thoughts.

Bane fell silent as well, laser-focused concentration on his hand as he watched his fingers sink in and out of her, creamy whiteness from her previous orgasm coating his digits. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

She whined as he removed his fingers, turning into a scream as he rammed his cock into her from behind. His diligent efforts had done much to ease his entrance into her, but she still felt the sting of pain as her cunt stretched to accommodate his alien size. By the Force, she had forgotten just how big he was.

She keened and cried out as he pounded into her mercilessly, the pillow allowing him to go deep. He settled over her, his body weight crushing her into the blankets as he pistoned in and out of her, his balls slapping against her clit.

There was nothing she could do but lay there and take it, unable to move, unable to do anything, unable to think of anything other than the dick pumping in and out of her. He propped himself up on his elbows on either side of her, encaging her in on all sides. She felt with agonizing pleasure every ridge on his cock as it moved in and out of her, the pointed tip grazing her cervix with every thrust. She closed her eyes and held onto the bed for dear life as his movements became more rapid, chasing his own high, feral.

His hips stuttered, his strokes growing uneven, his breath becoming ragged, his head hanging over her shoulder.

“Gonna fill ya up, lil’ lady,” he said hoarsely, his chest heaving as he desperately drove himself into her again and again.

“Please,” she implored, doing her best to throw her ass backwards to meet him. With one final strangled grunt, he sunk his fangs into her shoulder, latching on, and at the same time thrust as deeply as he could, his seed exploding within her.

He gave a few more limp thrusts, his cock twitching inside of her as he recovered from his climax. She basked in the feeling of being filled, of his cool body on her warm one, and the endorphins still rushing through her system. 

Two little spots of red appeared on her shoulder where he had bit her, and he sucked at the spot lazily, applying pressure with his mouth until the bleeding stopped. The angle of his head over her shoulder allowed her to press a little peck against his cheek. He gave her a startled look, and she giggled.

“You had your tongue halfway up my pussy, but a little kiss on the cheek makes Cad Bane blush?”

“Quit flirtin’,” he glowered, pushing up off of her and out of her, sitting back on his knees. Her core ached at his absence, but she took the opportunity to roll onto her back and stretch out, enjoying the way his eyes still examined her form even whilst he was spent.

“Why don’t you take your clothes off more often?” she questioned, examining him with equal scrutiny.

“S’ inconvenient,” he replied simply, reaching over to his nightstand to grab a cig. “Why, like what ya see?” he asked as he lit it up.

“Yes,” she replied truthfully and unabashedly. “But it’s so much better when you’re both naked,” she argued.

“It’s even better when I don’t have’ta worry about my weapons bein’ out of reach,” he countered.

“Oh please,” she laughed, “who’s going to attack you in the middle of a fuck?”

“Ye can never trust a whore,” he said derisively. “A woman dat can be paid t’ let ya between her legs can be paid even more t’ slide a knife into yer back while doin’ it.”

She felt a twitch of annoyance. “I feel like there’s an insult directed at me somewhere in that statement.”

“A hit akk-dog will holler.”

She glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest, deciding that he had lost his breast-viewing privileges. “You’ve got a lot to say about whores for a man who utilizes their services so frequently,” she snipped.

“What makes ya say dat?” he asked, grinning at her wickedly.

“Everyone knows that bounty hunters and whores go together like bread and butter.”

“I can’t eat butter,” he said. “I only employ deir services when I don’t have de time t’ find somethin’ better.”

“What could be better than a whore?” she inquired, only half-serious. “Aren’t they the most experienced?”

“Experience n’ skill don’t always go hand in hand,” he muttered. “De real treat is a challenge,” he continued, eyeing her lasciviously. She laughed heartily at that statement, throwing her head back as genuine chuckles shook her. “What’s so funny?” he demanded. 

“Why do you men always take sex so damned seriously? It’s just a thing that you do with another person for mutual benefit. Or it can be a tool. Whoring is no different than taking a hunting job for a client,” she stated. 

“I t’ink dere’s a few key details yer missing in dat comparison,” he said skeptically. “I say dere’s no difference between huntin’ fer a bounty and huntin’ fer a pretty partner for de night. De more excitin’ de chase, de sweeter de reward.” As he said the words, he crawled forward and on top of her, missionary style, his cock hardening once more. Her core throbbed in response, but she was not prepared to give up the debate yet. She sat up, leaning forward until their faces were only an inch apart.

“And what do you think I am, Cad Bane? I slept with you for information. I slept with that trillionaire for money. Do you think I’m a whore?” she whispered sweetly, her eyes on fire.

Bane knew a trap when he saw one. “I think yer in a class of yer own,” he replied suavely, running a finger along her jawline. Goosebumps erupted over her skin, but Kiara held strong. She reached down between their bodies, and pumped her hand over his hard cock a few times.

“Who’s flirting now?” she chuckled. She hesitated a moment, before continuing. “I dabbled in sex work once, you know.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Somehow dat don’t surprise me.”

“It was after I left Death Watch, and was searching for some way to make money. Once I figured out that I was beautiful, it seemed like the natural choice. Quickly learned that it was not for me, though.”

“How do ya mean?”

“The amount of bullshit that you have to put up with from men is astronomical, and as you know, I have a bit of a temper on me.”

He scoffed at that. “‘A bit?’” She smiled wryly. 

“I got fired from the strip club I worked at within two weeks of being hired. They told me I only had to dance, and that I didn’t have to touch the clients. They lied, and I ended up clobbering a man who booked a private dance with my stiletto.”

“I think ye should demonstrate yer dancin’ skills t’ me sometime, without de clobberin’ part,” he quipped.

“And I think that you’re a smooth-talker, who should be careful what he wishes for,” she murmured, planting a kiss on his open mouth before placing her foot on his chest and pushing him back. He fell backwards, catching himself on his elbows, his face contorted in fury.

“If ya think ya can tease me on my own damned ship-”

“-I’m simply providing the ‘challenge’ you asked for,” she explained innocently. “Now lay back and let me on top. It’s only fair.” She was practically salivating at the image of straddling him and showing him just how skilled she could be.

Her mirth died at the look in his eyes. His red eyes darkened, his expression stoic. His cock, painfully hard, looked downright dangerous. Her smile faded.

She watched nervously as he stood up from the bed and stalked over to his nightstand.

“It seems dat we need t’ set a few things straight before we really get started on dis mission,” he said calmly. He opened a drawer, and withdrew a pair of magni-cuffs. Heat washed over her body at the sight, but she remained defiant, giving him and the cuffs a guarded look. “Just because I agreed t’ fifty-fifty don’t mean dat ye can start gettin’ funny ideas about who’s de boss in here. Now hold out yer wrists.”

She could feel slick dripping down her inner thigh. She swallowed. “Come here and put them on me.”

For one moment of agonizing tension they sized each other up. And then he pounced.

Bane grabbed Kiara by the shoulders and threw her down onto the bed. She curled her legs up and pressed her feet against her chest again, holding him at bay. Snarling, he grabbed her ankles and wrenched her legs apart and moved in between them, rendering her kicking feet useless. She pushed herself back up into a sitting position, but he grabbed her by the throat and pinned her down with one hand. Her hands automatically came to grab his wrist, and he used the opportunity to use his free hand to cuff one of her wrists. He released her throat to grab her other wrist, his sheer physical strength overpowering hers, forcing her hands together.

The metal clasped around her other hand with a clank, and he forced her arms above her head until the magnicuffs stuck to the wall with their magnetism. She huffed in frustration, trying to gain purchase with her spread legs. He watched her efforts (particularly the way her breasts bounced) with sadistic amusement. He placed his hand around her throat again, quieting her, not squeezing, but placing just enough pressure to let her know that he could if he wanted to. 

“Should’ve known ye’d be into dis type of shit,” he said, nodding at her wetness and flushed flesh. Kiara knew that there was no point in denying him, allowing her silence to act as an answer. His hand trailed away from her throat down to her chest. “I’m afraid dat I haven’t shown dese tits de appreciation dey deserve,” he said, more to himself, using both of his hands to caress the soft mounds. Her face burned both with pleasure and with embarrassment at being so easily quelled, and she set her jaw and looked determinedly away from him as he fondled her.

Eventually his groping could satisfy him no longer, and he took his cock in hand, lining himself up with her entrance. He paused.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and she found herself obeying. “When we’re in dis bed, or any bed fer dat matter, ya do what I say. I’m de one in control. I make de rules. Understand?” he exacted, his voice icy. She stared up at him, eyes blown wide. He leaned over her, placing his hand over her throat again, this time squeezing the sides of her neck lightly.

“Understand?” he hissed. She nodded hastily.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Yes, sir,” he corrected, baring his fangs.

“Yes sir,” she repeated. She did not care anymore. She just wanted his cock inside of her.

He sunk into her, and she moaned at the feeling of being full again. He set a savage pace, as he always did, grabbing her tits as he bounced in and out of her. She moaned freely, arching her back as pleasure washed over her with every thrust, her cuffs clanking.

With their first sloppy round of sex out of their systems, he was determined for the second to last much longer. He grabbed her ankles and brought her legs to rest on his shoulders, experimenting with different angles.

“Look at me, Kiara.” She did once more, staring at him blearily as he rearranged her innards. He ran his thumb over her lips, and then pushed it into her mouth. She sucked on it instinctively. “Yer gonna cum on my cock two times before we finish. Got it?” She nodded, still sucking on his finger. “What a good girl ya are,” he said with a smirk, still maintaining his steady pace of thrusts.

He removed his thumb from her mouth with a pop, and brought it down to rub on her clit, using the lubrication from her saliva. She mewled in pleasure, tugging on her constraints.

“Ya like dat?”

“Yes,” she sighed, tossing her head from side to side as pleasure threatened to overwhelm. Bane changed around the angle of his hips, searching for the one that would allow him to hit her sweet spot on the inside. He knew he had found it when she screamed at a particular thrust, her entire body convulsing. 

“‘N how does dat feel?” he teased, snapping his hips sharply and hitting her G-Spot a few more times. He still drew circles on her clit with his thumb.

She responded with a thunderous orgasm raging over her, all of the muscles in her body tensing at once as she raced over the peak of her pleasure, her back nearly arching entirely off of the bed.

Bane let out a gravelly groan as her pussy squeezed and fluttered around his cock, the force of her contractions nearly forcing him out. He relinquished rubbing her clit, giving her over-sensitive nub time to recover, instead grabbing onto the backs of her knees with both hands.

“C’mon princess, give me one more,” he breathed, still hitting her sweet spot with every thrust, his aim just as precise as his shot.

“I can’t,” she whined, the ramifications from her most recent orgasm still spasming across her body. In spite of her words, she could already feel the second one building, the constant stimulation from his cock overpowering her body. 

“Ya can, and ya will,” he growled, moving his hands to grip her hips, dragging her body down on his cock again and again. He could feel his own climax approaching, but he would hold himself at bay until he brought her to completion again.

She stared up at the ceiling, her view bobbing with each thrust as he used her body, and watched as stars bloomed over her vision. Her body begged for respite, but her mind craved more.

“Cad!” she cried.

Kiara’s final orgasm took her violently. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes as it rippled through her body and her soul, setting every nerve on fire.

“Fuck,” he cursed, spilling himself into her, white-hot pleasure taking hold of him. He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her chest. They lay there, panting, in silence. Her body still shook with the force of her climaxes, trembling beneath his body. He reached up and released her wrists from the cuffs, and they fell limply onto the pillow on either side of her head. 

Bane propped himself up again and looked down at her, her bruised lips, her flushed cheeks, her dark lashes saturated with tears.

She certainly is in a class of her own.

“I think dis is goin’ t’ be a very pleasant partnership,” he declared, running a finger against her cheek that felt demeaning in nature. “As long as you know yer place, and ye respect mine.”

There it was, that spark of rebellion he always knew how to awake within her. Her glazed eyes became focused and she stared at him intently. She did not need to say anything; the ghost of a smirk on her face said it all: Good luck with that.

[idontevenknow7878]

🚨NEW NON-PANGEA OC ALERT🚨

This is Charlotte! She’s an inter-galactic explorer! I’m still unsure to put her in pangea, or, make another universe for her. (also quick thing: she lives in the future where space travel and what not is common, so maybe their universe could be some kind of cyberpunk deal?)

(and also an insert for magebunkshelfs old vampire series but shhhhhhh no one needs to know)

Basic Info:

Full name: Charlotte Isadora Parker

Age: 20ish

Birthday: December 6

Sexuality: Lesbian, asexual

Gender identity & pronouns: Demigirl, They/She

Star sign: Sagittarius

MBTI:

ENTP

A Song that would describe her: Good old fashioned lover boy

Backstory:

Growing up an orphan, she learned how to fend for herself, using her stealthy hand and persuasion skills to get what she needed. Living in the bustling city streets gave her an undying love for exploration, not just of earth, but of the stars.

When she was seventeen, they got a job working for a small inter-galactic agency. Hoping that they’d possibly be able to visit the vast expanse of space someday, they worked as hard as she could to climb the ranks, however, the higher ups of the agency thought that their best wasn’t good enough, so, she was let go.

Out of pure rage filled spite, Charlotte decided that,if the agency would let her explore the stars, then she’d make her own way to the galaxies. So, despite being an eighteen year old little urchin, Charlotte worked days, trying to find some kind of vessel, and, after months of searching, they hit the jackpot. An older man was selling his old ship for fairly cheap, it was run down and fairly small, but , she could make it work. So, she squandered all the money that she had, and bought it.

that’s all i have ^ _^

[dreamcastingdust]

Trying to figure acessories and a name for her

[givemethesleep]

Okay maybe I will talk abt my httyd ocs. As a treat. @ifthestarsarewilling thanks for the encouragement

Solveiga Viluf was a merchants daughter and, for most of her early life, was comfortable in her travels. Unfortunately her father wasn't a great businessman, or a great fighter, so when he wasn't making terrible investments, his goods and wealth was being destroyed in dragon attacks.

When her father arranged for her to be married, Sol didn't protest. She loved her father too much to disobey this bumbling old man. Even if her betrothed was piggish, filthy, unkind at best and destructive at worst. After 2 years of this, in spite of her apprenticeship to the town healer, Solveiga stowed away on a departing vessel and wound up wrecked on a lush island.

She survives on her own for a bit, foraging for berries and roots she knew were edible and scavenging from relatively fresh kills from the dragons on the island. Sol spent the nights in a makeshift little covering against a cliffside, listening to the haunting song of... something on the island.

That's how she winds up meeting Echo, a Deathsong dragon who's song had been of interest to her for a few months now. Of she could just get it to cooperate, she could get off the island. She couldn't go back to her husband, certainly, and returning to her father would disgrace him. With that in the back of her mind, Solveiga had to focus on hitching a ride before she worried about where she would end up.

Weeks were spent watching Echo - how he hunted, how he communicated, how he lured his prey in with his song. Sol winds up mimicking the huge beasts song and Echo thinks she's some lost, deformed adolescent Deathsong. By some miracle, she's not eaten, and the pair begin to slowly work together.

Now, Solveiga is a travelling healer and lover of art, drying and preserving flowers in Echo's thick resin as pendants and other art pieces. She comes off as a bit of an airhead sometimes, but if her survival on Deathsong Island and her massive carnivorous dragon are anything to go by, Solveiga Viluf isn't one to be trifled with.

Art of Sol by @/mothmans.bakery on instagram!

Randi Varangr isn't quite as in-depth. Her village was destroyed by dragons when she was young, and she winds up a dragon hunter. A scout, mostly, as she was small and quick and could wedge herself into tight crevices when delving into a dragon nest or lair.

Randi is, by all accounts, a merciless bitch - until she's discarded after a failed attack she was leading and was to be fed to the prized dragons. A series of fortunate coincidences later, the ex dragon hunter is being dragged through the woods with her arm clamped in the sharp mouth of a malnourished Dramillion. The dragon had eaten nothing in captivity, which had worried her boss - he'd made a good deal with someone who wanted this brilliant blue creature in peak condition.

The woman had made peace with the fact that, now that the Dramillion was free from its cage, it would tear her to shreds in this cave and finally have its feast (which is self aggrandisement on Randi's part because despite being a strong late 20s woman, she could probably be mistaken for a buff 12 year old).

But the injured and sickly creature stuck its face in a thorny berry bush and started gorging itself on the fruit.

Randi and her dragon take a lot of time to warm up to eachother, but with Randi's bitten arm growing infected and the dragon needing to regain its strength, they were largely isolated together.

No art for Randi, unfortunately.

ANYWHO these are my little guys thanks for reading

[identityquest]

decided to repurpose my oc final victim bc 1) i got a narrative they could fit into and 2) always wanted one of them gayass helmet head characters

The Final Victim was the last commissioned pilot in a series of interstellar travelers called "Star Runners." At the time the narrative would take place, there'd be approximately 30 Runners in total. All the Runners are the same species and from the same planet.

The Star Runners' home planet was an Earth-like one in a small, out-of-the-way system near the edge of the galaxy. It was home to uncountable unique cultures and societies, which were plagued with international conflict. However, it was still a beautiful and prosperous planet, and it was quickly approaching a true space age.

For reasons unknown, the sun their planet orbited suddenly soured. It rapidly cycled closer to death and began threatening to nova, imperiling all life on the planet, the planet itself, and the entire solar system. The people of the planet had next to no recourse; they hadn't yet gained true reliable interstellar flight, nor where they capable of quickly constructing ships large enough to house any significant number of people. Instead, they focused all their resources, energy, and research into one objective: calling for help.

Countries previously at war came together to focus on two things: developing sustained ultrafast interstellar flight, and constructing as many small vessels capable of this flight as they could. These single man starships would be sent out into the universe to find other, more advanced civilizations, and beg them for help. They were allowed to offer anything in exchange for said help, so long as it meant the planet and its people would be saved.

These messengers were the Star Runners. Each Runner's vessel could support life in deep space for up to a year, and was capable of working both on- and off-planet. The true marvel were their engines, capable of propelling the vessel and its pilot hundreds of light years in a near instant. Each time a vessel was completed, a pilot was quickly chosen, and then sent off in a new direction. Nearly 100 Runners in total were sent before the last, the Final Victim, volunteered.

There was no guarantee the runners would find help in the short time they had. There was no guarantee they'd find anyone in the direction they were sent; their planet was pre-contact. Many simply disappeared, never heard from again. Others did accomplish their initial goal: making contact. They were astonished to find that the universe was full of advanced, space-faring peoples, some even in their own galaxy. They begged these people for aid, but none ever came. Time and time again they were turned away, shunned, or outright ignored.

At the end of the year their ships were made to last, each Star Runner attempted to return home. Those who survived the trip were greeted with cataclysm. There was nothing left; shortly after the Final Victim left home, their star went nova unpredictably. Nothing was left but ruins.

The remaining Star Runners found another, eventually. They decided to leave again, use what little time they had left to explore the universe and spread the memory of their people. None expected to live long, running low on supplies, air, and their vessels ready to break at any moment.

Fate was cruel to the ones left behind. None of the remaining Star Runners succumbed to exposure. They lived longer than they expected, than they should have. Weeks turned to months and then years, and soon centuries and eons passed. They still travel, keeping in touch with one another when they can. But they're not quite the same as they used to be, twisted by pain and spite and the grudges they hold against those who could have helped but didn't. Those who don't keep in touch twist further, eventually succumbing to madness and wreaking havoc across the cosmos with strange powers the others swear they shouldn't have.

They won't ever forgive what happened to their people. But other than that they're pretty cool, pretty chill. They're kinda like if a malevolent ghost rolled up to the bar at the edge of town every so often and no one blinked, and even played pool with said ghost. God save anyone they have a grudge against, though.

[fandombead]

@eyydhyeet aight bet 😎 FOR INKY and boy do I have a lot of stuff to say

(Credit to the kind @/Comyet for this skelly, p.s. I loved the prism collection to pieces)

I love this character, I have defended his case for a long time~ he’s so complex and gets a lot of flack for being how he is— and a lot of people’s only impression of him is from Underverse but even that Ink version is misunderstood in his actions, I think it’ll be cleared up in future episodes~ he’s chaotic, afraid of being forgotten and alone again, and his backstory is just so sad man :,) he gets depicted to be an evil scapegoat, which in my own opinion does a disservice to what he could be~ and I hope to show ppl that with my upcoming fics 😆💜

So first I do love canon aroace Ink, I feel like that’s the most true to form for him, it works very well narratively too (aside from, haha, soulless reasons). I just have head canons on “what ifs” I use for angst and cute fluff scenarios that are just fun to see him in Xd Error or Dream are who I go for with him, but I’m open to several others thanks to artists I follow who expand on the ideas (like Ink with Gin!Sans or x-Tale!Sans)~ I alternate between having him uninvolved romantically and involved depending on the story I’m telling and the interesting relationships that are relevant

Non-romantic OTP is also Errink XD they’re just chaotic and a good fit for each other’s…quirks XD their banter and rival relationship is fun to write and read~ (His friendships with Dream and Blue are my bread and butter, it hurts to see any of them against eachother in fics :,) aaa let him care about friends! the vials help him have a normal range of emotions that are his, even if they’re allotted without a soul present)

Unpopular opinion: people constantly do him dirty 😂 for every fic of him being his decent but still chaotic self, I’ve seen 6 with him kicking babies (not literally—but I wouldn’t put it past those Inks). Some ppl also hate that he’s a Sans…but don’t care to see why he is, or see his backstory~ People can have their own opinions, I just think he gets a lot of unnecessary targeting that is out of spite more than genuine interest ^^’ he’s a gremlin I am not denying that, but he’s not evil! I get having to do it if you wanna make the bad guys look better; I disagree, but we’re allowed to both do our own things! and at the end of the day it’s just fiction squabbling, not serious

Uhhh I’m not sure? I adore “canon” Ink as he is, and his story ^^ Comyet is a sweet person who just created an amazing piece— a nice counterbalance to Error for UTMV stuff and the potential for a greater story because of that! Ink is very versatile character, and a fantastic narrative tool that makes the AUs feel more connected. He’s a vessel for typing the whole thing together and something I would argue a story like the one the Undertale fandom’s Multiverse needed. The UT fandom is unique in that all it’s AUs form a greater story to a whole, with shared characters and “ocs” created being traded around and molded and accepted into the bigger narrative like one giant group rp. It was as if it was destined something like him would come along, and I’m very glad he exists for it. He walks around as almost a parallel to Flowey: a soulless being who found a way to still feel and how that effects his relationship to other people. How he decides to still act mostly good even in his chaotic neutral way, but he’s learning morality without an inborn compass for it. It’s probably one of the deeper reasons I love Ink, with all his little quirks. Aside from him being complex and fun to write and a relatable creative spirit.

[debtsunpaid]

DEBTSUNPAID: low activity, iconless, selective multi-muse sideblog, featuring canon characters + oc's based in nbc's c.onstantine show & vertigo's h.ellblazer comics. ( + some additional fandoms. ) all muses & mun are 18+, triggering content & adult themes will be present. everything will be blanket tagged as trigger /. multi-verse, multi-ship, crossover & oc-friendly.

studying themes such as: the sidekick's story, the villain's intentions, the ones left behind; escaping your fate, what was i made for, personal hells, how to hold a grudge, the misguided righteous, the evil by necessity, so you survived: now what?

written by oxly, 25, they/them. follows back from talentforlying but is not directly associated with / does not share canon with interactions on that blog unless plotted beforehand.

GUIDELINES ♙ INTEREST TRACKER ♙ BIOS (tba) ♙ PINTEREST

mobile roster + temp bios under the cut! TESTING: clarice sackville (hellblazer), tali (hellblazer), nat (hellblazer 2019), tommy willowtree (hellblazer 2019)

PRIMARIES

THE DEMON CONSTANTINE (hellblazer comics) — pre-#250 canon only. it/he/they, british, former golem/current demon. created from the worst parts of constantine's personality, even more spiteful and annoying than the regular one, and bloodthirsty as hell to boot. fc: comics + matt ryan.

tags. vibe: us, possessor potential triggers: alcoholism, mentions/descriptions of body horror

MANNY THE ANGEL (nbc constantine + heavy hc influence) — he/him, angelic, supposed guardian angel with secret ties to dark magic and the brujeria. manipulative shithead with a love of mind games and genuine, if sinister, interest in humanity. high tolerance/invulnerability to most weapons, painful to punch, reality manipulation & other angelic powers. fc: harold perrineau.

tags. vibe: constantine (2005), dogma potential triggers: critical discussion of religion, familial trauma, manipulation

CLARICE SACKVILLE / THE CUMAEAN SYBIL (hellblazer + dead in america) — she/her, far older than she ought to be, a horribly wronged ancient greek oracle turned socialite, sorceress, and expert in the mystic arts. a snobby opportunist and shrewd strategist who has her pet revenant, gwendolyn, hunt tourists in order to steal their spiritual essence, de-age herself, and further extend her already-much-extended life. fc: joan collins. / youthful fc: young judi dench.

tags. vibe: breakfast at tiffany's, the silmarillion (galadriel), antigone rewritten potential triggers: sexual assault-centric backstory (not described graphically), classism

KLAVIER LUZ FURCHTBAR / JALLAKUNTILLIOKAN (hellblazer-based oc + hellblazer comics) — over 40 (isn't sure), they/he, spanish-german, ex-astrophysicist, current engine of the fear machine, accidental vessel for the revival of jallakuntilliokan, the animus & fear-domain half of a twin god. a drifting maths tutor who lives their life half-in and half-out of the Dreaming after becoming psychically entangled with the fear god during its banishing, fighting a losing battle to separate their consciousness from its looming eldritch presence before it takes full possession, rips open reality, and assumes its god-form on earth. fc: daniel bruhl.

tags. / appendicular blog. vibe: solaris, the thing (1982), venom, disco elysium (the inner voices), southern reach trilogy: annihilation (the biologist + the crawler) potential triggers: unreality, hallucinations, possession/body manipulation + related body horror, psychological manipulation, backstory references to freezing to death & unwanted experimentation

ANIMA / ONDINE NASIRIAN (both hellblazer-based oc's) — simultaneously 34 and as old as creation, she/they, spanish-iranian, former artist, currently the collaborative consciousness of mortal ondine and atalakuntilliokan, the anima & hope-domain half of a twin god. a wandering wonderer at all that humanity has to offer, searching the earth for her missing half (jallakuntilliokan) in an attempt to return them to the fold and restore the fragmented balance of humanity's collective subconscious before either of them can unravel themselves or the world beyond the point of saving. fc: sarah shahi.

tags. / appendicular blog. vibe: southern reach trilogy: acceptance (ghost bird + the leviathan biologist), venom, bridge to terabithia (jesse + leslie), the skeleton twins, legion (michael) potential triggers: references to suicidal ideation (primarily backstory), possession/body manipulation + related body horror

CHAS CHANDLER (hellblazer comics) — canon-critical. early-50s, he/him, british, taxi driver, closeted bisexual, married but separated, dad. pissy dickhead who likes to pick fights and is secretly in love with his best friend. just a guy. fc: comics + owain yeoman.

tags. vibe: the world's end (andy knightly), peaky blinders potential triggers: past maternal abuse, toxic masculinity, internalized homophobia

CHAS CHANDLER (nbc constantine) — 42, he/him, american, taxi driver, repressed bisexual, divorced dad. 6'6". soft sweater guy and good cook, functionally immortal with 47 extra souls shoved in him like a walking cannoli. limited powers of self-resurrection & speed-healing. fc: charles halford.

tags. vibe: insidious (josh), the world's end (andy knightly) potential triggers: divorce, absent fathers, internalized homophobia

ELLIE (hellblazer comics) — she/her, british, disgraced succubus, ex-denizen of hell, widow of the angel tali. as treacherous as she is pretty, and still kinder than most. bummed about not being allowed home to hell, but has plenty of fun conning people here on earth. fc: comics + maggie q.

tags. vibe: it follows, hotel artemis (nice) potential triggers: backstory references to pregnancy, traumatic birth, loss of a child, stalking/being stalked, mistreatment of a sex worker

FRANK NORTH (hellblazer comics w/ nbc verse) — 43, he/him, american, former/current biker gang guy depending on whether you meet him alive or as a ghost. laid-back veteran who's just here to have a good time. fc: comics + michael trucco with a ponytail.

tags. vibe: the lost boys, ferris bueller's day off potential triggers: references to the vietnam war (?)

CHERYL MASTERS (hellblazer comics w/ nbc verse) — 56, she/her, british, human or ghost (timeline dependent), housewife and stay-at-home mum who is always about five minutes from divorce. john constantine's big sister, fiercely independent, doting mother figure, and always substituting everyone else's problems for her own. fc: comics + andrea riseborough.

tags. vibe: the haunting of hill house (olivia crain), little shop of horrors (audrey) potential triggers: mention of religious cults, unhappy marriage, backstory references to intimate partner violence ending in uxoricide

TALI (hellblazer comics + canon divergent) — he/him, fallen angel, a former guardian at the gate destroyed for falling in love with the demon chantinelle, and later resurrected by the first of the fallen to punish her. running a halfway house for supernatural strays out of the back of a laundromat while he tries to locate his wife & child and recover the powers he still retains. fc: rahul kohli.

tags tba. vibe: legion 2010 (michael), potential triggers: familial trauma, critical discussions of religion, loss of a child

NAT (2019 hellblazer comics) — testing. 27, she/her, glaswegian scottish, bouncer/former bouncer (verse dependent) at the long lugs artisanal microbrewery while doing her literature degree. hot temper and a mean golf swing, and just fucking fine until constantine showed up. fc: comics + evan rachel wood.

tags. vibe: the green room, the magnus archives (melanie king) potential triggers: N/A

TOMMY WILLOWTREE (2019 hellblazer comics) — testing. 32, he/him, southern english, hipster wizard, pun magician, and guardian of the merlintrove for the last 5 years (so he thinks, anyway). an idealist with more enthusiasm than sense, who lives above and works at the grokk & roll occult bookstore + cafe with his partners. fc: comics + matt biedel.

tags. vibe: legends of tomorrow (ray palmer) potential triggers: N/A

SECONDARIES

BENEDICK OF PADUA ( much ado about nothing ) — 36, any pronouns (introduces themself as he/him), scottish-italian, a lord, loyal soldier, class clown, perennial bachelor, and truly loyal friend who wants nothing more than to party his way through high society for the rest of her life. scoffs at the idea of love, but loves to be loved; enjoys flexing their wit, but hates to be outdone. moonlights as a drag queen named nonny nonny. formerly mustnotbeproud. fc: david tennant.

tags. vibe: romeo + juliet (mercutio) potential triggers: incessant drinking, references to recreational drug use, immaturity

RITCHIE SIMPSON (hellblazer comics) — he/it, british, quantum magic pioneer, techno-demon-slash-very-unhappy-siri-substitute. pissy little gremlin who burns sim cards like cigarettes, will correct you on everything and ruin your search algorithms for fun. electronic manipulation & digital astral travel. fc: comics + santiago cabrera.

tags. vibe: videodrome, the x-files (the lone gunmen) potential triggers: unreality, body-snatching

RITCHIE SIMPSON (nbc constantine) — 43, he/him, american, computer genius, quantum magic pioneer, and occultism professor. the georgia equivalent of a shaking chihuahua but lord if he won't bitch you out given the opportunity. fc: jeremy davies.

tags tba vibe: the x-files (the lone gunmen), mission impossible (benji dunn) potential triggers: n/a

JACK VINCENNES (adapted from la confidential + vertigo-based oc) — 48, he/him, american, closeted vice detective and professional tabloid informant. a disillusioned glory hound seeking redemption, a purpose in life, and dirt on one john constantine. fc: simon baker.

tags tba vibe: la confidential, se7en potential triggers: cop/ex-cop (verse dependent)

REVEREND RICK "THE VIC" NILSEN (hellblazer comics) — 46, he/him, british, un-priestly priest with the church of england, collector & dealer of occult paraphernalia. sardonic, sacrilegious, with a shitty little mustache and a happy poly relationship with his girlfriend and his best friend. fc: comics + con o'neill.

tags tba vibe: monty python & the holy grail, the devil all the time potential triggers: religious themes, disrespect for religion

FIONA NANTES (vertigo-based oc) — 200+, she/her, irish, ancestrally cursed to live out the lives of everyone her family has ever killed. serial killer trying to buy her and her son more time while she searches for how to break the curse by any means necessary. fc: carla gugino.

tags. vibe: doctor sleep (rose the hat) potential triggers: murder, generational trauma, references to filicide

DAMIEN WHITE A.K.A "THE PROFESSOR" (hellblazer comics + oc) — 58, he/him, british, former archaeologist and professor of anthropology bouncing between johannesburg and the british museum. paranoid occult specialist who took one look at constantine and noped out of the country. fc: jeffrey wright.

tags tba vibe: it (adult mike), the mummy (1999, dr. chamberlain) potential triggers: the british museum

EMMA KNIGHT (vertigo-based oc) — 34, she/her, scouse, divorced, formerly-possessed seamstress with lingering psychic abilities and, recently, fashion designer to hell. vain, proud, deep-in-denial wannabe-girlboss blaming everyone else in the world for her problems. fc: jodie comer.

tags. vibe: black swan, censor potential triggers: possession, past-body horror, parental abandonment