I just realized I should probably have an intro post-
Anyways! Welcome traveler to my humble blog. I reblog things I like, send cup asks, and hold myself back from infodumping about my characters (I will fail)
My favorite word is Applesause, and my favorite letter is Q.
Things I like:
Pokemon, Pjsekai, DC, Twisted Wonderland (twst), Marvel, Minecraft, crk, mascot horror, heroes & villains in general really, fantasy, dnd, magic.
I would list the things I dislike, but it's people being mean for no reason other than to be an ass or to make themselves feel better. :D
Also people who disrespect their equipment. It's a pet peeve. Do not disrespect your pencils >:(
In the tags you can find tags I work with and utilize. Because I don't know how to Tumblr. This will probably get updated at some point, and be Hella fancier.
Applesauce is just a general tag for my posts? Idk I've used it for a couple reblogs, but mainly it's gonna be my stuff
For more context, it'd be following an OC of mine going through different universes. Some fandom and some not, entirely depends. I will likely make little polls throughout to ask the for the reader's opinions. The main character's name is Warren :3
less literal than it maybe should be, but there was a bunch of stuff I wanted to try to get in there, and eventually I just had to call it done. :U (...for now) (we'll see how it goes)
anyway I'm continuing to enjoy this RSA time! they really are on a totally different plane of emotional existence than we're used to from these guys, aren't they.
For more context, it'd be following an OC of mine going through different universes. Some fandom and some not, entirely depends. I will likely make little polls throughout to ask the for the reader's opinions. The main character's name is Warren :3
Nope I stand here too. Like uh, sometimes I'll cuss at the adults im battling in Pokémon, but I always dislike when people casually talk about hitting npcs in games with attacks even if they have no reaction to it, it always makes me feel icky.
Crimson Angel AU, or better viewed as ‘Blood Soaked Angel AU’, is a Cult of the Lamb AU based around the Lamb, Anthea, a seemingly kind, friendly, and optimistic person just eager to help. Yet in reality, much of their actions stem from a mix of guilt over surviving, and a lingering desperation to cling to the way they were raised-to put everyone else’s needs above their own and to bury any negative emotion out of fear of being ‘selfish’. They are an 'angel' eager to help anyone in need, even if that means they bleed themselves dry.
The main themes of the AU are learning to communicate and express your emotions and needs to your loved ones, themes of how negative family dynamics can affect a person, and letting go.
Background of the Lamb
Lamb’s Family Overview
Prior to becoming a vessel, the Lamb was but an older sister, the eldest child of 4 raised with the understanding that in a time of genocide and strife, there was no room to be ‘selfish’. That with Papa serving as the village's supply runner, it was Anthea's job to help ease Mama's burden at home, especially once the twins Lindel and Garrick were born when the lamb was but 4. The first-born was the one meant to handle the burdens of growing up to soon, so that at the very least, the other children could play a little longer.
Anthea was to be the example, and all her things were to share. Nothing was ever truly hers because it was better to pass things down, and complaining about it would be selfish when their village was already just barely getting by, as well-hidden from danger as it was. It was lucky that sometimes Papa would take her with him on trips to teach her the routes, though at the time, Anthea never understood why he looked so sad when asking if things were too much back home.
Since after all, what was there to complain about? The lamb was alive and could help out her family-that was enough.
Even as Papa died when she was 8 and that left Anthea no choice but to take up his mantle (no one else had the courage to do the same). Even as two brothers became 3 only a week after his death and Mama suddenly needed help more than ever, it was fine. It was fine because that's just what big sisters had to do and she could handle it.
It was the older sister’s job to handle it.
Just as it was the older sister’s job to keep everyone safe, at least until after one standard, uneventful supply trip at age 12, Anthea returned to find that the entire village had been razed to the ground, with not a single person nor body left behind. There was only blood mixed with the ashes of her home, and scraps of cloth that looked so, so similar to what the boys had been wearing just before she'd left.
Even after weeks of wandering a kindhearted rat named Ratau finally found and took her in, Anthea was still an older sister. An older sister who had failed, and was now left with this void of purpose. And thus she clung to that old title-clung to that role of self-sacrifice and bottling things up. Because that was her job, and that was all she knew how to do. The boys deserved to live more than her-they were so, so young she'd been 12 they'd had so much more life to give than she, and thus she knew damn well that she better not complain because of that.
The God of Death
Whilst in Ratau’s care, the lamb at first was just going through the motions. Never crying, but not quite settling in either. That was until Anthea came across a collection of books left from Ratau's time as vessel. A collection of books about a fifth bishop, a kind bishop, a God of Death who greeted the departed with gentle hands and soft words, walking with them before seeing them across the Threshold to what lied beyond. A god so unlike the cruel, merciless bishops the lamb had known of, that for the first time in weeks, the lamb felt at ease.
If those books were true, then someone kind was there to greet her family after they faced the most brutal of deaths, and though that god was chained now, that just meant he deserved Anthea's worship even more. She created a little alter beside her cot in Ratau’s shack and would prayed nightly to him, then spent her days helping Ratau around the house, learning how to defend herself from heretics from his friend Shrumy, learning how to survive via making potions from Ratau's husband Flinky, how to set traps and barter from another friend Klunk with his buddy Bop, all while secretly awaiting the day she would meet this kindly god, since as much as she enjoyed this life with Ratau and everyone, it was one lived on borrowed time.
Execution
The Lamb faced execution at age 26, and it was a death she welcomed as it was a trade for Ratau. The two had been careless whilst walking home one afternoon and were jumped-a lamb and a former crown-vessel were fine prizes to have, and Ratau was injured during the chase. Having long accepted that she was meant to die, Anthea simply picked up her sword, drew the heretics away, and prayed that her father figure had escaped, knowing that so long as he lived, that would be enough.
And yet when the axe fell and Anthea died as the last lamb, the god she finally got to meet wasn’t quite like that of the books and stories she'd managed to get from Ratau. He of Death was tall and grand-with glowing red eyes beneath a dark veil, yet he was shackled in place by bloodied, iron chains, with his dirty robes torn and stained. His arms were stripped down to bone, smelling of rot, and worst of all-though he appeared to hide it as she was beckoned to approach, he was in clear pain. That kindly god she'd grown to worship was chained in such a dreadful state and in pain, and to Anthea's horror-he wasn’t alone. Two kits just barely in adolescence were there by his sides. Two kits whom were black cats just as he was, which made the Lamb wonder how could the bishops be so cruel as to not only chain their kin, but to lock his children with him?
(They had thought the twins his biological children then, but even after learning the truth later, it was clear that regardless of blood the boys were his)
When asked to built a cult in his name the lamb accepted it without hesitation. She had survived her village where she should have died, and even after dying for Ratau, here she was being offered to live again where someone else deserved it more. If this is what her god ordered, then this must be why she lived.
The lamb would fight and die so long as it meant the betterment of someone else's life.
Bishops Arc
Anthea’s time as vessel was a mix between managing the cult and continuously being drawn back to the Gateway by the image of the children, Baal and Aym. Those two little boys who brought back memories of her own little brothers, yet were also two little boys so unlike Garrick and Lindel, that didn't seem to know how to act as kids... Unable to shake the instinct, the Lamb began to try and interact with them whenever she came to report to TOWW, yet each time the boys seemed startled at even a simple hello. What finally broke through the ice was giving the boys a book she had read to her own brothers as a child-and at learning the two couldn't read, offered to teach them how as well.
Yet through befriending the kits Anthea also began to break through to TOWW as well-the god's melancholic, stoic mask gradually cracking as he questioned their reasonings. Why bother with the kits? Most vessels ignored them. Why ask if he needed anything for them or himself besides the Bishops dead? He could manage just fine. Why offer to show him the world via the crown? Why try to talk? Why waste the time? Why do any of this that was not required? Did they wish something to gain? Anthea's reply of simply wanting to make his and the kits more comfortable only seemed to just confuse him more, and it made them sad.
(Which ah, wasn't that something? Them...He Who Waits and the kits helped them realize that. For so long 'she' sometimes didn't feel right, even as a child, but Anthea had always ignored it since there was never the time and more 'important' things to worry about than their own discomforts. It took the three's help to realize that 'he' and 'they' were options too, and that gender could be fluid)
Seeing him think simple kindnesses with no strings attached was unthinkable hurt the lamb. It hurt them to realize that someone being kind to him just to be kind was rare.
In the same vein TOWW started questioning them on other thing too. Why did they awake screaming from nightmares, why did they hide when they were hurt? Why did they seem so, so set on pleasing everyone, yet just as set on ignoring themself?
They started balancing the other out-Anthea would call out on TOWW being unkind to himself, and he the same in turn. A friendship, it seemed, of two people who understood and saw the other's plight. Gradually Anthea's heart started to flutter with every visit, and after constant nightly deaths kept scaring the cult, they start talking to him via the crown long into the night till falling asleep, needing his voice to sleep in peace, but that was normal for friends, it was easier to talk at night and they just had so much to say. And the boys-the boys were there too, such sweet, gentle kits. Seeing them learn how to play, how much they adored their father-seeing such a happy little family despite the cruelty of the situation...freeing them would be worth everything.
Yet in the back of their mind though the lamb couldn't help but wonder-why did the Bishops chain their brother? TOWW's only answer was that they hated him, and yet...Leshy died with a look of resignation on his face. Heket died cursing herself. Kallamar died calling himself a failure of an older brother-so why? How could anyone resent their own kin so much?
(The Garrick and Lindel had destroyed their orginal copy of the same book they'd given Aym and Baal, once. Papa had given it to Anthea shortly before his death, a rare, precious type of gift to find with books so rare, and strictly had told everyone that no one else was to touch it-that it was all hers alone. Yet the boys colored all over it during Anthea's second time running Papa's routes, when Mama was too busy nursing baby Oliver to realize until it was too late.
Yet Anthea had just smiled and said it was alright, that the boys were 4, that they didn't know better, even as they wished to scream themselves hoarse.
A big sister can't resent)
As Shamura's domain came in line however Anthea began to reminisce. The anniversary of their family's loss have come up and...and it had been a long time since they visited, hadn't it? Nearly 3 years a vessel, plus the 14 years since that day, they had been 12 then but were nearly 29 now, and they finally had the strength to go back without dying so...they asked TOWW tentatively if he could accompany them somewhere via the crown, and without hesitation he agreed. They took him there with a bouquet of flowers in hand and...and they just broke.
They failed...They failed....They failed. Their family was dead because of them, weren't they? They must’ve done something, Anthea could’ve saved them had they gotten home sooner, or maybe they weren’t as careful coming or going and that’s why they were gone. For the first time the Lamb broke down, and as they swore that they’d get him and the kits out-that even if it took their permanent death they were getting his family out, suddenly their god-their friend was telling them no and to never think such a thing again.
The One Who Waits told them that either he was leaving the Gateway with them by his side or he wasn't leaving at all, and for the first time...Anthea was first. He was willing to stay there if that meant they could live (it was likely a figure of speech they assumed but...but he'd waited so long for his freedom. Yet he refused to hear about leaving without them. No one...one had ever said something so...selfless to them of all people before). Something squeezed inside their chest and ah, the realized it now, that’s why they were so open with him. Why they so desperately want to talk to him, be near him, to free him and his kits. They had fallen in love, hadn’t they?
‘Either you leave this place at my side or I don’t leave here at all. You’re leaving here with me’
They…they wanted that. For the first time in their life, Anthea wanted that. That selfish, selfish little desire to live freely, to live with someone-to do what their kind and their brothers never could, to make a choice and have something of their own, they wanted that and if their god wanted that too then maybe...maybe it was ok.
TOWW stayed with them via the crown till their tears ran dry, then gently pushed them to go home-home to Ratau and their teenhood bedroom and cot, telling them that the cult could manage a night and that they should go see their adopted Dad and Pa and not be alone on this night.
And thus left to their thoughts Anthea started to think. In sheep culture it was tradition to use your own wool to weave a sash for your beloved, as a show of devotion and an oath of commitment, and often given as a sign of courtship or a proposal. TOWW's words weren’t romantic, they couldn’t have been romantic, but that was alright, Anthea didn't mind. This was just to be a symbolic promise to him and themself-they were going to live, and live with him.
The Betrayal
From there by day they were taking on Silk Cradle, and by night, sneaking off to their old loom at Ratau’s with the crown’s eye turned away-a request for privacy their god always honored, to work on their gift. They usually spoke with TOWW before falling asleep, but he seemed to buy their excuses as to why they couldn't-that they were helping a follower, needed some more rest, had other things more imperative to do as sorry as they were, and as much as they missed their talks they wanted this sash done before he was freed.
During the cradle Shamura would ramble on about betrayals whenever they appeared and the Lamb would ask again how could someone ever betray their own kin-Shamura would spat that the lamb didn't understand what it meant to be the eldest sibling, and the Lamb always would reply that they did before the god would disappear.
The sash was completed a week before Shamura finally fell, and with favors cashed in to ensure they’d be able to get their god, no, Narinder alone enough to give it to him once freed.
(Shamura had said his name the first they appeared in the Cradle. Anthea had died shortly after, and when calling TOWW Narinder in the Gateway it had put such a sweet, flustered look of surprise on his face that they made sure to do it again and again until he scooped them to dangle them upside down out of mock frustration, cracking a smile as the Lamb had hung laughing and squirming before he placed them back down.
It had felt so wonderful to say, to make him smile like that-they loved him so much that it was the closest they'd ever let themself get to saying an 'I love you')
When stepping into to the gateway for what should have been the final time, Anthea barely had a moment before two kits had barreled in for a hug they eagerly returned-knowing that their boys finally were going to come home, that Narinder was coming home with them-but as he called the two back and the Lamb forward something...something felt different.
It had been a week since they last talked to him or saw him, now that they though about it. He seemed so…so sad for a moment before his expression shifted.
“Vessel…” he had said in a voice, so, so unlike him. So unfeeling, so cold. “I relinquish you from your service to the Red Crown. Return it to me, and embrace the end that awaits. With this sacrifice of my most devoted follower, I will be freed. Approach, and lay your life down at me feet”
Anthea had been stunned. The kits, too, stood in shock. Then came the rattling of chains, then two cages dropping down-filled to the brim with their friends, their followers, Ratau and Flinky- (Dad and Pa had been at the Cult to finish setting up. Anthea had spent the remainder of the week after Shamura's death prepping everything, but their perfectionism had taken hold. The rat and snake had to practically shove them onto the dais they were so nervous to go)
Just what was he talking about? Sacrificing themself...what?
“You who plans betrayal has lost the right to your life. I know of your plan to usurp power, and will not be chained again.”
Betrayal, usurp? Since when...where did he ever get a horrible, unthinkable idea?
Even the kits tried speaking up and asking just what he was saying-if he was ok? What was happening???
(Their heart felt like it was cracking within their chest-)
Narinder hesitated a moment, then, ordered Aym to return to his side, and for Baal to fight the traitor. All three looked at each other in shock, and when he asked again, hesitantly fell into place.
"We'll just...just spar-" Baal had whispered as they parted. "He hasn't been acting himself lately...maybe that'll snap him out of it?" Anthea didn't really get a chance to ask what he meant, because Narinder ordered them a third time.
The blows they traded were meaningless-light parries of sun-spear and sword, evenly matched. Anthea had sparred with the twins countless times before, the boys knew their rhythm just as much as Anthea knew theirs, so it was easy to avoid any lethal hit. It was easy, until Baal unexpectedly threw his weapon the other way to knock Anthea's balance off, and leapt right into their oncoming slash. Red blood appeared over his chest- red blood VERY much splattering as an artery would. Blood that then roared in Anthea's ears as they caught him falling without even realizing it, with Aym bolting to their sides.
He was fading...he was saying something...he was fading, he was-he was ash. Black ash that fell from their fingertips and blew away in the wind. There one moment, gone the next.
They...they killed him.
Before Narinder or anyone else could say anything Aym's magic was suddenly surging-with Anthea staggering back on instinct from the fiery heat.
"If you want us to fight then we'll fight!" he raged, and Anthea was dodging.
Ash on their fingers, blood on their clothes-they refused to fight, started begging Aym to stop, to calm down, he was going to hurt himself calm down-but nothing could get through and when a spell was suddenly hurled at the cages Anthea was too overwhelmed to think of the consequences as they just threw up an ice curse as a shield. A shield that exploded on impact, piercing ice shards shattering across the field. Shattering, and impaling Aym in the stomach.
They were aware as they caught him falling and pulled him into their embrace. They pressed down on the wound as tears spilled from their eyes and it took but a moment to finally realize just what happened.
He knew they'd defend the cages. Baal knew how to force a strike. They...they were trying to get hurt, weren't they?
"Heh...d-dumb plan...s-sorry..." Aym had whispered, blood dripping from his mouth, body breaking apart. "B-baba-"
Then scattered to the wind.
And ah wasn't that funny? They never realized how much they wanted to hear one of the twins call them that but...but there went his ashes, slipping through their fingertips...
Anthea keeled over, and screamed. The piercing, sobbing wails of a parent who just watched their children die in their arms. And then they vaguely heard Narinder's voice (they'd missed how it shook back then) and saw the shadow of his hand and suddenly it was all just red.
Anthea didn't really remember the fight, just that since all four of his chains had been broken Narinder managed to dodge their first blazing curse, and with the fifth at his throat clanking, the battle commenced. It wasn't until eldritch beast was transformed into a bloodied black cat drowning in giant, ichor-soaked robes that Anthea realized the crown's blade was pressed against a neck, with a thin line of ichor already tricking down his throat. How easy would it be to finish it...to hack away till he was but ash as well but...but they couldn't. Staggering back trembling they couldn't kill him-
(They loved him-)
Anthea sent him to the cult, helped everyone down, and they all warped home. And there on the dais in nothing but his own fur Anthea saw Narinder, The One Who Waits, Their God, the Reaper, and the argument started.
He listened in, he listened in they learned. He overheard them finishing the sash but only part of the conversation and not only went against his promise of privacy but took an out of context conversation as proof of them being a traitor??? Did he think that lowly of them!?? That after all they've been through, all they've done they would just...just betray him???
They were making him a gift. They were making him a gift how could he ever think they were going to betray him how even-a crowd had gathered and was watching, and suddenly Anthea felt like they were going to be sick.
"Show's over, back to work. Nona watch over the reaper, and leave me alone-"
They locked themselves into the temple without bothering to see everyone's response for the rest of the day, fell to their knees, and cried. For their sons. For their broken heart. For that damn sash, tucked into its gift-box hidden still inside the chest at the foot of their bed.
The next day the lamb ignored that the Reaper was not anywhere in sight, and ignored how Nona kept trying to talk to them about him. They simply put on a smile, and tended to their flock.
Don't complain, don't be selfish. People are relying on you, and it doesn't matter how you feel.
Natural Black Hair Tutorial!
Usually Black hair is excluded in the hair tutorials which I have seen so I have gone through it in depth because it’s really not enough to tell someone simply, “Black hair is really curly, draw it really curly.”
The next part of Black Hair In Depth will feature styles and ideas for designing characters and I will release it around February. If you would like to see certain styles, please shoot me a message!
Biblically accurate Ryland Grace from Ryan Gosling himself.
[VD: A Project Hail Mary animatic titled "We ask the Project Hail Mary crew what they would take on a trip to space". The art is toned in purple, yellow, and orange. The characters answer with audio from interviews with the movie actors as microphones are held towards them.
Grace, sweating and laughing sheepishly: "Well, I wouldn't go to space... Just like never, I would run."
Ilyukhina, smiling: "A picture of my family."
Dubois smiles and stands with Yao, who nods seriously: "Nerds Gummy Clusters."
Grace, smiling nervously: "Why do I have to?"
Stratt: "My phone."
Grace: "Can I pick three? (He counts off) Coffee, donuts, and then, like, some choose-your-adventure novels so I can get a few multiple reads out of them. (He holds up his hands defensively) But I don't want to go. Just to be clear."
(Hands appear to drag him away, and Grace looks and sounds mildly panicked.) "Why are you sending me--?" End VD] Cred: @nebulations
*He loves ragebaiting his students in the most harmless ways. He will use modern slang just to watch them groan at how "uncool" it is to hear your teacher say "rizz" or "slay"
About two years ago a boy in his eighth grade class explained to him what "do it for the plot" means and since then he's had "Do your homework for the plot" written messily in red marker at the top right corner of his whiteboard.
*Grace wasn't exactly all that popular back in his school days. Sure he wasn't miserably bullied,his quick wit helped him stay in the good side of the popular kids, but he knows what it feels like to be different. That said he's very strict about anti-bullying and discrimination within his classroom. He doesn't believe in the "it's just a joke" logic. If it makes a marginalized student uncomfortable he won't tolerate it.
*Sometimes during break time he'll leave his door open for students so they have a place to eat their lunch if they are particularly having trouble making friends.
*He is ancient in his students eyes and he doesn't understand everything when it comes to queerness or mental health especially. But Grace always tries to keep an open mind.
For example if a student comes up to him to let him know they're trans he might not entirely get it but he always makes a point to try his hardest to call them by their preferred name and pronouns.
*He loves making his lessons interactive so you bet if you're caught sleeping in class he will ask you to help out with a demonstrative experiment or worse you will become his designated person he will be asking questions during class. This dreaded fate is why he hasn't had many patients dare take a snooze in his classroom.
*He's a sucker for gossip and although he tries not to show it he will always conveniently have no interest in grading papers when Kate starts talking about her boyfriend and how she's "so over him"
I like these but id like to add, there's a teacher on my campus who's like this, but something he did was blast Kids Bop version of Not Like Us before class started each period. Proudly.
