#iamvegorott

[bookwormscififan]

Funny 20. "Blood looks good on you" for Madmare sounds like it would be an interesting one to play with

Resurrecting my vampire AU for this one!

20. "Blood looks good on you."

Mad grumbled to himself as he scrubbed at the bloodstains on his shirt, snarling when the water just smeared the blood further into the fabric.

He looked up when the door to the cabin closed, his efforts at cleaning stopping when he saw Mare walking inside, covered head-to-toe with blood.

"Fuckin' loggers," he muttered, removing his shoes so he didn't track blood all over the house. "Your cabin was in the centre of the densest part of the forest once." He let out a sigh, peeling off his soaked clothes and falling backwards onto the bed, lifting his head when Mad said nothing.

"You alright?"

"Blood looks good on you," Mad said quietly, eyes dark as he tossed his washcloth into the bucket of blood-water, wiping at his cheek and getting a smear of blood on it.

"I'd prefer the blood to be in me," Mare replied, dropping his head back down onto the mattress and rolling his eyes as Mad moved closer. "I swear there's like four different people's blood on just my face."

"And you're getting them all over the bed." Mad crossed his arms before going back to the bucket, grabbing the washcloth and tossing it at Mare, smiling slightly when it landed on his stomach and made him cough. "You're changing the sheets." Pulling his shirt over his head, Mad left the cabin to go and soak in the lake outside, chuckling at Mare's protests inside.

--------

@brokentimewatch

[weirdmixofweirdness]

Strange Portal Chapter 1: Inanis Silva

Based on an AU made on @iamvegorott

Marc would like to say the story began simply. Boy would that be a lie! How can a tale begin simply with one of his sons hearing voices? With two of the people he cared for most vanishing? With  a supernatural voice sticking to his brain like Gorilla Glue? Where could one even begin? Perhaps, with what his family used to be. 

Years ago, they were a typical family: a husband, wife, and two sons, twins. Though there was some uncertainty about their names, they eventually landed on the perfect ones: Yancy and Night. Yancy was in honor of the mother’s grandfather. He was a joy to be around, and so their son would be. The name Night, however, came from a crescent moon-shaped mole on the child’s back. The mother even sometimes insisted she could see it glowing at night. That would only be the beginning of Night’s oddities. Throughout his childhood, he would speak to no one, playing games and sometimes reaching out to touch what seemed to be a nonexistent entity. The child called these things ‘Whisps.’

“They don’t talk very loud,” he would say.

“They’re…they whisper,” the boy described. The couple saw it as their kid just interacting with imaginary friends. What’s the harm in it? they thought. All kids usually talk to “invisible people” for some period of time. Besides, it didn’t stop him from making friends at school. Surely, nothing bad could come out of it. That is, until the boy started sleepwalking. For a while, Night would wake up in the backyard, sitting on the bench swing. When caught by a parent, the still-asleep twin would say ‘I’m going home’ in a monotone voice. The words sent a chill down their spines. Regardless, they dismissed it as the boy having odd dreams. For years, this happened without end. The parents took him to every doctor they could find. None of their recommendations yielded results. With no options remaining, they turned to Evelyn: the mother’s sister-in-law and self-acclaimed witch. With one look at the silent boy, Evelyn knew the issue. 

“Night seems to have another sight,” she explained. 

“What kind of other sight?” the wife, Celine asked, worry laced in her voice. 

“He can see souls from Inanis Silva,” the witch responded. 

“Animas Susurrantes.” The Whisps…the mother thought to herself. 

“That’s a lot to get from one look,” the husband scoffed. He was willing to venture into occult practice for his wife’s sake. However, the words coming from this relative sounded, on all accounts, insane. He was raised by an atheist father who often debunked the “absurd” ways of those who believed in magic. He especially told Marc not to trust fortune tellers.  “They can make up whatever baloney they want to get your money,” his father claimed. It seemed to make sense. At least, until now. He could easily dismiss it when it came from a stranger. From a family member, now that was something else entirely. She

wasn’t doing it for money. Besides, his brother-in-law married her, and he was a relatively smart man. If he trusted her, Marc could too. 

“Besides, what does that all even mean?” the husband asked. 

“Inanis Silva,” Evelyn began. 

“The Void Forest. Souls are doomed there when cursed by Chaos Spirits,” she described. 

“You’re already losing me,” he replied. 

“It would take hours of study to fully make sense of it,” the witch said. 

“Can I at least have cliffnotes?” the father retorted. His wife sent him an annoyed glare. 

“Your son was born with a gift,” Evelyn responded with a sigh. Still, she tried to keep a calm tone. Nothing would be solved through conflict, after all. 

“The only trouble is, I can’t tell if it will be for good or evil,” she stated. 

“Then, what should we do?” Celine asked earnestly. 

“Raise him the best you can,” Evelyn answered. 

“The results will be what they will be.” 

“What kind of answer is–?” 

“Marc, she’s right,” the wife said softly, stopping him from exploding at their relative. Despite his anger, he withdrew, nodding his head without another word. 

“I recommend you read more into this,” Evelyn pulled a book out of her large bag. The cover read: Legend of Inanis Silva. 

“Also, listen closely to your son here,” she gestured towards Night. 

“We will be sure to, Evelyn,” the wife reassured.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re more than welcome,” Evelyn replied. 

“I’m here whenever you need me,” the witch made her way out of the house, after waving goodbye to a now tween Night. 

That night, Marc thought he would give the book a peek. That quick look turned into a whole night’s worth of reading. It was descriptive, not leaving out a single detail. The place was said to be a black abyss, strewn with millions of identical trees. Once doomed there, there was absolutely no method of escape. Quite the fairytale, he thought to himself. He would have to test something when the boy woke up.

“I’m not 5, dad,” a 12 year-old Night complained flatly. 

“Yeah, why’s he gotta do dis,” Night’s twin, Yancy, sat next to him in the dining room. Night lightly hit his brother in the chest with an elbow. 

“I don’t need your help,” Night whispered grumpily. 

“Okay, geez,” the brother mumbled to himself. 

“All I need,” Marc began. 

“Is a picture of that dream world you’re always talking about,” the boy kept his eyes away from his father. 

“I’ll convince mom to let you stay up past 9,” the dad knew how much of a night owl his child was. He always had the most energy when it was dark out. Celine often called him her little owl because of this.

“Ugh, fine,” the boy let out a frustrated sigh. 

“I’ll take a while, though,” that was what Marc suspected. Night did have an eye for detail. That eye would sometimes have him drawing for hours. Sure enough, after nearly 2 hours, the boy called out that he was finished. The result was nothing short of chilling. The paper was covered in black colored pencil, tall pine trees standing throughout the whole image, no path in sight. It was an exact copy of what he had read in Evelyn’s book. This had to be a coincidence, his brain told him. Or maybe–

“Night,” he started. 

“Have you read Aunt Lyn’s book?” 

“Wha-no,” the boy insisted, utterly confused. How could he have read it? His Aunt just gave it to them and his father surely would have seen him last night. 

“You told me to draw my dream, this is it,” he explained, light tension in his voice. His father continued to stare at the picture. Night could see the gears turning in his mind. Surely this wasn’t real. It was just a coincidence, it had to be. But how could his son’s image be exactly the same? Marc could feel the walls cracking on his perception of reality. However, the walls remained, weak but still standing. He had to find the real explanation for this. To do so, he needed to run more tests. 

Also on Archive of Our Own

New Chapters will be linked once created.

[joannofsnark]

Why you so heckin cool?

awwww, it’s cuz I’m not afraid to be a sexy bitch with a broken brain <3 

(also, love you)

[devie-draws]

Fanart of @iamvegorott​‘s Siren!AU, featuring Pirate!Dark and Siren!Anti. Ngl, I honestly am pretty proud of these especially Dark-

I love a lot of Veggie’s work so you’ll probably see me tagging them often lol

Bonus comic I made at 2am and lazily coloured below the cut!

I can draw and think of ideas better than this I promise–

[bingledidthebangle]

Mama-Veggie back at it again. But this time, I must do my other sacred duty and inform little Goo-Bear that if he hurts my lovely boy, he'll know the feeling of just being a pile of code and nothing else 🙃 I looove you~

Bing: Tough love isn’t working, Mom, I think you’re just making him mad

[uncultured-lettuce]

The right one is transparent if you aren't a fan of the background! This is for @iamvegorott thank you for requesting!

Character by @therealjacksepticeye

(click for better quality)

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN

[shiyabelleth]

@iamvegorott Here’s ya boi

This was hilarious to work on, thank you for writing such cute, funny stories

[i-am-not-anon]

Quality is bad, but I drew a sketch about @iamvegorott ’s character Annalise as I see her. I love her! I actually have a bigger drawing idea too, which would include she and her fathers, but meanwhile have this.