K.I.D.S- Komputers Invaders Defence Squad- Main Character Art

I'm honestly surprised that Gaiman isn't being talked about as much on here.

No, actually I'm not. He's on here isn't he? So he probably has a fan mob here as well.

I'm not on Twitter, so I have no idea what's happening there. I found out through a random video popping up on my YouTube.

I'm not surprised tbh. Wasn't he a male feminist? An oxymoron if I ever heard one. A man that truly supports women won't put a label on it, because it's called 'being a decent human being'.

This has me side eyeing other well known/popular white male authors 👀 👀👀👀👀

Maddie and Jack Fenton are decent (I would even argue good) parents and fanon cannot change my mind despite how much it seems people want 'Neglectful Fenton Parents' to be canon

I resurrected an old character from one of my scrapped stories!

It was one of my spiritual, magical fantasy stories where the characters were witches, making spells and throwing their spirits in and out of the astral realm.

Now that I know how not-great THAT is, I don't write those kinds of stories anymore. I CAN reuse the characters for my new, more God-centered stories though!

This is Candice (or Carissa. Haven't decided yet), a 32-year-old working woman. She used to be a 26-year-old unemployed woman also named Candice, who used to be a 22-year-old university student again, also named Candice, who used to be a 16-year-old boyfriend stealer (yikes!) called Tamara, who used to be a 13-year-old hunted by a supernatural vampiric creature, the original Tamara.

She went through multiple iterations and multiple storylines over the years and hopefully, this one sticks. She's honestly a whole new character at this point!

I have a bit of her story written on this post right here.

It's an end-of-the-world/alien invasion type thing. A lot of my stories are still supernatural, but I put a lot of the supernatural in their rightful place and don't have my protagonists fooling around with any of it.

Not Another Paranormal Romance- Artwork 3

You can read my short story 'Not Another Paranormal Romance' here:

Archive Of Our Own

Fictionpress

Tumblr post

More cover art ideas and a couple of sketches from when this story had a lighter tone to it.

Gabriella was a very brave (in a stupid way) character who had great confidence in her protection from GOD and openly taunted a demon with it. At the time, I didn't know that you could still experience demon possession and oppression despite being an obedient Christian.

Gabriella is NOT an obedient Christian! I mean, who is when they're a teenager. That's very rare these days.

The current Gabriella takes this entity more seriously as throughout the story, she will learn more about what demons are really capable of.

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See below for more about the cover designs.

I wanted to do a minimalistic cover with just Gabriella and Cyrus. She would be outlined in white and him in black. I was thinking of pink or lavender for the background. I wanted it to look like it was hinting at a cutesy romance.

I also wanted little hints of Cyrus's true nature in his design. His back is to the audience to symbolise him hiding said nature. His slit pupil and the pentagram in his hair (he has it as a fade design) hint at that. My other sketch has a typical devil's tail and a fireball in his hand, but I thought that was going overboard.

The last two sketches are Gabriella taunting and triumphing over Cyrus. Don't taunt demons in real life, please. They're not like how they portray them in the movies. They are NOT nice. You WILL be hurt BADLY.

Art post #1 || Art post #2 || Here || Art post #4 ||

Art post #5 || Art post #6

Daily Doodles- Day 49- 03/06/24

Another OC! This is Bruna Draven, a bird-type character. I remember putting a lot of thought into her design, but I never got around to working on her story.

She was supposed to be a jealous rich mean-girl, but she slithered her way into being the oblivious yet well meaning friend.

She, Rowen and Iris are all from the same universe and are friends.

The tag for this is #agdoodles

There's nothing Biblical about attacking people.

I'm looking at you right-wing 'Christians'.

And no, I'm not American. Do not involve me in your ungodly politics.

Daily Doodles- Day 29- 14/05/24

Practicing drawing guys! It's the face shape that gets me. Unless they're really young (children basically) they don't have soft faces, but if I make them too sharp, it just looks out of place in my style.

I think I did well here!

The tag for this is #agdoodles

Daily Doodles- Day 21- 06/05/24

She's veeeery loosely inspired by Jazz from the TV show Danny Phantom. 👻🧡💙

The tag for this is #agdoodles

Daily Doodles- Day 159- 24/09/24

Another drawing based on a story idea that I had.

Be careful what you say, for your words have power.

The tag for this is #agdoodles

Short Story- Shades of Violet: By Adinelle Ggreeo

I can see the good and the bad in people.

Red and blue are what I see. Throughout my life, people have come in many different shades of purple.

We all have the capacity for good and bad within us. Our shades of purple depend on whether we choose to listen more to the angel or to the demon on our shoulders.

But there are those that have no angel at all.

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You can also read my stories here:

Archive Of Our Own

Fictionpress

I can see the good and the bad in people. I've had this ability since I was a young girl. It appears to me as an aura around the person, emanating from their heart space. Red and blue are what I see. Red for bad, blue for good. Simple stuff. Though human beings are not that simple. Red and blue mixed make purple. Throughout my life, people have come in many different shades of purple. We all have the capacity to do good or bad. Our shades of purple depend on whether we listen to the angel on our shoulders or the demon. But there are those that have no angel at all.

One instance was in a church, of all places. An acquaintance of mine invited me to a Sunday mass at her community's church. She was very braggadocios with her invitation, telling me all about the beauty of the building and the status of her community. She was the kind of woman who cared too much about how she looked and what people thought about her. All the while, she judged others for those same insecurities. She was a little on the red side of purple. Just a little. I didn't think too much of it. She wasn't bad, just superficial. So I said yes.

When I walked into the church that Sunday, I was immediately on guard. There was a worrying amount of red-violet people walking around. They smiled their false smiles and spoke their false well wishes to each other. One of them came up to me, a woman. She was decked all in red. Red dress, red lips, red fingernails and toenails, and an almost red aura. She looked me up and down as she walked over. It was slight and quick, but I saw her nose wrinkle and the corners of her lips turned down. I suppose she wasn't a fan of my hand-me-down cotton dress on my plain brown flats. Her wide smile snapped back into place, and she greeted me with a high voice, speaking loudly enough for others to hear. She was apparently one of the ushers. I told her I was invited by an acquaintance and asked if I could be seated with her. Apparently not.

“Oh, newcomers sit at the back, sweetie,” she said, showing me to one of the pews in a dark corner of the church. I was the only one sitting there, which was strange for such a large church.

The building itself was quite grand. It really was as beautiful as I was told. It had tall ceilings with Victorian-esque chandeliers and large, colourful stained glass windows that lined the walls. They depicted in grand detail The Passion of Christ. Statues of St. Mary, Jesus Christ, and various Angels and saints painted in gold and jewel tones stood tall near the altar. The altar itself looked more like a performance stage. I could see stage lights all around. the priest's chair looked more like a throne, tall, wide and covered in rich purple velvet and what looked like precious gems. Very pretty, but unnecessary. I sat there uncomfortably, taking in the church and watching the people, seeing very few of a blue hue.

My final straw was when the priest came in with all the altar servers and lectures. As we all stood for their entrance, I noticed how everyone was placed. All the people grew redder the closer to the altar they were. Then I saw the priest at the end of the procession. Decked out in his white robes, he glowed a deep, blood red, brighter than I'd ever seen and I was immediately filled with dread and horror. I didn't care how it looked, I got up and power-walked down the aisle. I ran when I heard someone call out. I refused to stay in the same space as someone so vile as to have the aura of blood.

The acquaintance and I are no longer familiar.

Another instance happened when I was a teenager and thankfully, it was just in passing. My friends and I were at the mall, just hanging out. Those were our ‘window shopping’ days, when we had nothing but lint in our pockets, having spent all our allowances as soon as we got them. I'm a lot better at managing my money these days. We sat in the food court, nibbling on the sandwiches that we brought from home. we were people watching, well boy watching to be more accurate. Ooo-ing and Aah-ing over boys and men that were too old for us.

My friend, Sharon had pointed him out to us, her eyes wide with awe. The other girls were no better, openly staring at him with gaping mouths. It was obvious why. He was beautiful in an etheric way. He was tall and slim with dark brown skin that contrasted with his pure white afro hair. He wore it in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. He wore all white. White short-sleeved button-up shirt, white trousers, and white sneakers with not a speck of dirt on them. He was looking down at a little black book he held in one hand as he walked by. His other hand gently grazed his sharp jawline. That drew our attention to his strong nose, plump lips and the long, dark lashes that framed his eyes.

“Oh my gosh, he looks like an anime boy!” my friend, Ali whisper-squealed.

The others chimed in with their agreement. I was watching his back as he left our sight with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Because that was the first time I'd ever seen a person glowing so red. his aura was the colour of rubies and it beamed out of him in tentacle-like rays, like a red sun.

“That one's your pick huh, Cici?” Sharon teased, elbowing me out of my trance. I force the giggle I'm trying to ignore the roiling in my stomach. I prayed to never see that boy again.

I have seen and met people that were fully blue. All of them were babies and small children, pure souls untouched by the darkness of the world. They start to become tinged with red by the time they're about ten years old. Children can be cruel, after all. I have yet to meet a blue adult. They don't exist. By the time we’ve reached that age, we’ve seen, experienced and done too much to not be tinged with red. This doesn't mean that I haven't met any good people. There are many good people walking this earth, contrary to popular belief. They come in different shades of violet and blue-violet. I'm glad to say that I see them daily among the reds.

Today, though, I ran into someone. Well, it’s more like they ran into me. They came barreling into me out of nowhere from among the crowd. I'm a small woman, so I went flying, hitting the ground hard. Thankfully, I had nothing to spill. My tailbone wasn't too happy though.

“I am so sorry, miss!” said a male voice.

I looked up at the man. he was holding out a hand to me with an apologetic look on his face. And he was still talking, probably still apologizing, but I couldn't help but stare. He was an average-looking man, his appearance a bit dishevelled. He had a mess of brown curls atop his head and a face dotted with small red pimples. He was in need of a shave, with a five o’clock shadow going across his face and down the underside of his chin. He had nice teeth though. They were straight and clean and so were his short nails. He wore a slightly oversized t-shirt and jeans and smelled faintly of fabric softener. A battered grey messenger bag hung off his shoulder.

His appearance was not what stalled me. It was his aura. his bright blue-like-the-sky aura.

In the midst of my shock, I didn't remember taking his hand and him pulling me up to stand. I came back to the present as he awkwardly patted me on the shoulder, still apologizing and then off he went, once again almost running through the crowd of people. I watched him go, his blue aura shining bright amongst the sea of purple. I looked on until I could no longer see him.

I gripped the strap of my shoulder bag tightly. I looked around at the violets and blue violets at the red violets and darker. I was worried. For the first time in my life, my sight failed me. A blue adult does not exist. I stand by that. I glanced back in the direction the man went.

So how do I explain him?