A Cure For Monstrosity Part 15- Here To Help

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I am more cursed than Stede's red suit because I regularly recall random, unsearchable lines and phrases from fics that haunt me every time I open AO3

Guy Williams as Zorro (Zorro, 1957)

Alright here's my full (possibly hot) take on redesigning Hazbin Hotel characters and making a video showcasing those redesigns while you criticize the official designs.

First and foremost, you are redesigning someone else's OCs. Hazbin Hotel is, in essence, a passion project for Viv. How she talks about it makes that incredibly clear to me. The only difference between Hazbin Hotel and, for example, the story I'm developing surrounding some of my D&D OCs is that Hazbin Hotel got picked up by a streaming service and is significantly more popular than most passsion projects get.

Personally if someone wanted to redesign my D&D OCs, I wouldn't mind it, in fact I'd probably think it was really cool that someone would want to redesign one of my OCs to be closer to their tastes in terms of what they like to draw. I would, however, be made incredibly uncomfortable if someone made a video redesigning them where they also pointed out everything they thought was wrong with the designs. I didn't design these specific D&D characters to be 1-to-1 accurate to their classes in D&D or to look professionally designed. I designed them how I wanted them to look for the story I'm telling because I don't plan to ever play them in a campaign. The main character Avlan is a paladin, and I can acknowledge that his design might not look exactly like a paladin. One of the tabaxi in the story (Ice) is a bard and the other (Spark) is a ranger, and I acknowledge that their classes might not come across well in their designs. The single tiefling I've designed for this story (Tragedy) is a cleric but might not come off as one in their design. But I specifically designed them to be easy for me to draw because I want to be able to tell this story through my art. Having someone say "oh, Avlan's armor isn't paladin enough!" or "Avlan's fur colors and patterns should be closer to a wild rabbit's because harengon shouldn't be based on domestic rabbit colors!" would fucking hurt (especially because I'm so attached to Avlan, but it would hurt just as much if similar comments were made about Ice, Spark, or Tragedy). I am so passionate about these characters and being told their designs are bad or wrong in some way would be like a stab in the heart, and it would still feel like a stab in the heart if this story ever got a massive fandom behind it. Giving Avlan more complex armor because you think it'd look cool or just want to see what it'd look like? Sure, if I could draw more complex armor I'd give him more complex armor too. Giving him more complex armor but also shitting on the armor I decide to draw him with? My motivation to draw him in his armor, potentially draw him period, would be dead for WEEKS.

Why is it suddenly okay just because someone's passion project was picked up by Amazon Prime? Why is it suddenly okay to be "fixing" someone's character designs just because the project has a much bigger budget than most artists get and is on a popular streaming service? It's not. I don't care if you're a professional character designer, or think a specific character would look better with certain traits, or just don't like the character designs.

Hazbin Hotel is still Vivienne Medrano's passion project, and redesigning her characters and making videos talking about everything you think is "wrong" with them is, honestly, disgusting. You can make videos explaining your choices in your redesigns without putting down the designs that already exist, whether you like them or not. Me thinking Lucifer looks better with his tail not restricted to his full demon form doesn't suddenly mean I don't like his official design, because I fucking love it. If you wouldn't do it to an artist whose passion project is just a webcomic here on Tumblr, don't fucking do it to an artist whose passion project got picked up for a cartoon by a big streaming service (or any company for that matter).

A story from a fan who met Harry at lunch in LA after he got back from Brazil on Dec 15 2022 (x)

❛ i never meant to hurt you. ❜ -> for the apology prompt 🤍

Ahhhhhh tysm~! this prompt screams the aftermath of syb finding augustine living that cult life in joseph's compound :') so here's the first draft of that I guess lol </3

Tw for a few references to suicide ideation and syb uh...not being in a good place emotionally

Water splashes as Sybille stomps her way through the muddy puddles of Joseph’s Compound, storming towards the gates. Jacob had to escort her from the chapel, physically restraining her as she kicked and screamed curses towards Joseph for how he’d hid her brother from her and indoctrinated him into the Cult. She’d nearly killed him then and there; nearly wrapped her hands around the preacher to wring his skinny little neck.

She should have killed him. Heard John’s voice whispering in the back of her head urging her to, that mindless, animal wrath held back only by Jacob’s strong arms, and even he had struggled to hold her back.

Her hands are balled tightly into fists, her fingernails digging so hard into her palms that she’s drawing blood. She stomps past a number of Peggies and none of them try to hinder her departure. They follow her with their haunting gazes as they watch their enemy, the Deputy, walk away a broken woman, each of them coming to the dawning realization that their victory over the County may be closer than anticipated.

She makes it through the gate, past the chain link fence, numbly navigating her way back to the main road that bisects the island. The near constant ringing in her ears builds in both volume and pitch. It pierces through her head, making her feel dizzy and unsteady on her feet. But she can’t stop. She lurches along the dirt road as it winds and twists, dragging her feet like they’re encased in concrete.

She needs a smoke. She needs some whiskey. She needs to kill something – feel the blood on her skin and watch the life drain from its eyes.

She needs a bullet in her head.

When she reaches the shoulder of the road, she stumbles into the gravel, taking a moment to catch her breath now that there’s at least a marginal distance between her and the Project. But when a large, calloused hand wraps around her wrist, she instinctively whips around to punch her assailant. The cartilage of their nose crunches underneath the force of her knuckles. She strikes so quickly that she doesn’t even realize who she’s hitting until it’s too late.

Jacob reels back, releasing his grip on her in favor of clutching at his face. Blood trickles between his fingers as he hunches over for a moment, recovering from the unexpected burst of pain. He lets out a grunt, resetting his nose as he straightens back up. “I deserved that,” he groans, blinking away the water in his eyes.

“Ya damn right, you did,” she growls, cradling her bruised knuckles to her chest and shooting him an icy glare. “Ain’t you already got your pound of flesh?” she seethes. “The fuck more you want from me?” 

“I…” he hesitates and the longer he looks at her — the longer he stares into the rage blazing behind her eyes — his shoulders begin to sag and his mouth twists apologetically. He looks like a child who’s been caught misbehaving. Like he’s finally realizing exactly what it is he’s done. “I never meant to hurt you,” he mutters quietly.  

Her eyes go wide, and her jaw drops in utter shock. “You…You never meant —” she scoffs a bitter laugh, “— you never meant to hurt me?” She stares at him, shaking her head in disbelief before her expression hardens. She points a finger at him and stalks forward with her teeth bared in a snarl. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Need I remind you of the original nature of our relationship, hm? How you sent people to hunt me down, and when they proved incapable, you hunted me down your damn self. You drugged and kidnapped me, strapped me to a chair and kept me in cages and started…” Her fingers claw and flex before balling into tightly clenched fists. 

She trembles in anger. Her face goes red as she futilely holds back a building scream. “You forced your way into my head to try to make me kill Eli,” she shrieks. “You turned me into a tool, Jacob! A fuckin’ tool!” Her voice cracks, and rage washes through her and she storms forward. With outstretched arms, she gives him a forceful shove. “And now I find out that you kidnapped my brother and gave him to Joseph to use him as a bargaining chip.”

She swallows thickly and sucks in a shuddering breath before leveling him with a frigid stare. “And you have the gall to look me in the face and say you never meant to hurt me?” Her eyes narrow and her jaw clenches when he doesn’t respond. He just stands there, staring at her with sorry eyes. “Bullshit,” she spits. “Bullshit, you ain’t mean to hurt me. You’ve been tryin’ to hurt me from the damn start!”

 He has the courtesy to look ashamed of himself, at the very least. 

Tears burn at her eyes, and for the first time, she doesn’t have the strength to hold them back. The dams break loose and nearly two decades worth of tears burst through. They flow down her cheeks, leaving clearly defined trails amongst the dirt and grime clinging to her face.

“I trusted you! I let you in! I thought we was the same and you fuckin’ betray me!” she screams. “I hate you! You should’ve killed me! You should’ve fuckin’ killed me!” She lunges forward to shove him again, only to pitch forward into his chest. Instinctively, his arms wrap around her. Whether it’s to restrain or comfort her, she can’t say, but the second his arms close in to hold her, squeezing her tight, she goes limp.

All the fight leaves her body, and he cradles her while she clings to his shirt, burying her face as she sobs into it. His hand comes to stroke her hair and he leans down to press soft kisses to the top of her head. “I know, honey,” he murmurs. “I know.”

She has no idea how long the two of them stand there on the side of the road. No idea how long he shields her quivering body from view of the occasional Project truck that passes by. Even now, despite everything, he protects her. He helps hide her, giving her as much privacy as he can while she breaks down. She sobs and wails out into the night – pathetic, emotional, weak – and he rocks her gently, whispering apologies all the while.  

Not once, does he give any sign of letting go.

Not when she begins to struggle against him, trying to pull away.

Not when her knees buckle and he’s the only thing keeping her from falling to the ground.

 He’s the only thing keeping her from crawling back to the grave Faith had dug for her and meeting the same grim fate as her Daddy.

He knows this.

And he knows that he’s the one to have pushed her towards it.

I have always found it adorable when someone uses words in your native language, even if it's a simple "thank you" or "you're welcome", I feel it's a detail that lets you know that the person appreciates you enough or cares enough about you to learn your language

Rick and Morty as one another's Kill La Kill Kamui suits?????

WIP Whenever

@grapecaseschoices tagged me to post a WIP - here's a sketchy comic I will probably never finish. I got the original idea last year and never finished it up, so this one is more like WIP abandoned.

Maelle InfamousIF doesn't want to be reminded seven anymore.

File this one under: jokes with one intended audience (me)

Warning this joke requires knowledge of american football and san diego chargers team movements

Also, this is canon for Maelle, so she constantly lies directly to people's faces, saying that she's a chargers superfan.

P.S can you imagine seven's reaction to seeing Maelle's "new" SD Chargers tattoo and hearing her say she looooooves the chargers. Maelle is so fake, CONFIRMED. 🤣🤣🤣

I just think Pete should be able to wear a little lipstick and have Vegas kiss it off him, as a treat. 

'you should hate me right now.' (max :):):))

↪ 𝐹𝐼𝐿𝐿𝑂𝑅𝑌 ⅋ 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 . // ( @hadmrcy )

He's right about that ! Twice now he's cost her work – from harassing her OnlyFan subscribers to not helping her when she came to him for it and resulting in her left hand being broken along with her violin being smashed beyond repair? She sold the ring he proposed to her with to help pay off the medical bills from her hospital visit, the surgery and still some was being used to help pay for the physical therapy she was enduring. It'd still be months before she had full strength in her hand again, not to mention how long she'd need to be in therapy to try and break the glass ceiling of trauma from getting attacked like that. It's why she had to move out of the rental and was living with him, a choice she HADN'T wanted to make really but she couldn't stay in the house with the other violinists if she couldn't pay the rent. Of course, he hadn’t been too keen on her telling him she sold the ring — but she needed the money. A bulk of what savings she had before now was for the move back to New York. And there was absolutely no guarantee that once she was back to full physical strength ? There'd be an available chair for her to go back to within the American Symphony Orchestra. The only choice she was even being left with ? Was to return to being a private music teacher, but he'd have to be okay with strangers coming in and out of the house — because renting a studio out was absolutely ridiculous. 

“I do actually, which is why I sleep on the couch instead of in the bed with you.” She's learned to get comfortable with sleeping alone, and having to sleep in a position that keeps pressure off of her lower left arm because she also slept in a removable cast. Mary was already a side/stomach sleeper when they met, but now she has to sleep on her back because it wasn’t at all comfortable to wake up with your face pressed into the back of the couch. Absent-mindedly, the fingers on her right hand moved along the cast on her left and she was fiddling with the adjustable strap. “But not as much as you likely hate yourself for putting someone you claim to care about through such emotional discourse that she MIGHT not even have a job to go back to — unlike yourself that will still be able to wrestle.” Oh yeah, if he caught the venomous tone of contempt there ? She meant every single word.

“Wouldn't count on me bein’ all too eager nor willing to play any live entrance music for you either. I'll have to stay behin’ and find a job in the city or start teachin’ private music lessons like I was before movin’ here.” She muttered a little bit before getting up from her seat and made her way towards the kitchen in order to take some of her anti inflammatory medication that the doctor had suggested while her hand ( and fingers ) continued to heal.

TAKE THAT YOU MONSTERS!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭

ALREADY INFLICTED THIS ON JACKRABBIT BUT EVERMORE FROM BEAUTY AND THE BEAST AS A RUE/HOB SONG. UR WELCOME WORLD

I was the one who had it all I was the master of my fate I never needed anybody in my life I learned the truth too late I'll never shake away the pain I close my eyes but she's still there I let her steal into my melancholy heart It's more than I can bear

Now I know she'll never leave me Even as she runs away She will still torment me Calm me, hurt me Move me, come what may Wasting in my lonely tower Waiting by an open door I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in And be with me for evermore

I rage against the trials of love I curse the fading of the light Though she's already flown so far beyond my reach She's never out of sight

Now I know she'll never leave me Even as she fades from view She will still inspire me Be a part of everything I do Wasting in my lonely tower Waiting by an open door I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in And as the long, long nights begin I'll think of all that might have been Waiting here for evermore

the L in lydsandre stands for. les boobies.

anon i saw this before going to sleep and died

incidentally here is a non-exhaustive list of "vulgar" terms for breasts in french:

nichons

nibards

roberts (yeah)

tétines

tétés

tchoutches

nénés

miches

lolos

I hope my fellow zombie players appreciate me tryharding with spash-o-matic so they can have fun

No ask, just appreciation for your Zorro posts! Gracias!! <3

Aww thank you so much!! <3 <3

And can I say in return that I love your username? As a geologist myself, it makes me smile everytime I see it. :-)