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stars-self-ships · 2 years

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It should come as no surprise to longtime followers of both this blog and my main that I take great joy in designing self-inserts for my favorite franchises, whether it's to see how well I can capture a certain vibe or just so I can have a good visual of what I'd look like in that universe to kiss my beloved F/Os— though, if I'm being honest, most of the time it's the latter!

Doing so has been easy for the most part, as a lot of the franchises some of my most treasured S/Is hail from don't necessarily have a complex visual style. Take for example Psycha, who was easy to design outfit-wise after basing it off of an outfit I would wear, or perhaps my Centaurworld S/I, who was even easier to design as all I had to do was draw a toony version of myself with a deertaur half!

Given my recent adoration toward my latest hyperfixation Winds of Change, it was a given that I would design a self-insert for its universe, and I was already brimming with ideas for what a fantasy version of my fursona would look like in the world of Alestia! However, as a contrast to most of my other favorite medias, Winds of Change boasts a very detailed visual style and outfit design for its cast, which meant my S/I would have to follow suit as to not look too out of place.

And about two weeks of on-and-off work later...

I can finally unveil my Winds of Change self-insert, Micah Winddane!

(Check out underneath the cut for a lengthy deep dive on the creation of the above drawing as well as a full view of this sheep seer's weapon of destiny!)

Gosh, where do I even begin? There is just so much that I want to talk about when it came to designing Micah Winddane that it's tough to find a good place to start!

Because Winds of Change has an all-anthro cast, it ended up being a given that I— yet again— would be choosing to model my S/I after a sheep, much like my fursona, Psycha, etc. However, rather than using Psycha as a base as I had for my fursona, I actually modeled Micah Winddane after an actual breed of sheep... the Leicester Longwool!

True to their name, Leicester Longwool sheep are notable for their overly lengthy fur, and given that my hair is currently at the longest length that it's ever been, it felt only fitting to design my Winds of Change S/I around them! This also meant that I would be using a more golden color for the hair as opposed to the usual 'tan-white' color most of my other sheep S/Is have, and if you look closely, you can even see that there's a distinct fur pattern on his face!

With sheep specifics out of the way, let's focus on Micah Winddane's outfit. If you read the tags of my first Winds of Change related post on this blog, you might have seen that I first wanted him to be an 'anxious but good-hearted visionary with a cool fantasy robe'— which, to be honest with you, was how I had been envisioning him throughout my time playing through the game's prelude!

The only reason the whole 'cool fantasy robe' aspect didn't stick around for long, however, was due to a certain set of characters in Winds of Change possessing such a look... The Triumvirate, antagonists who are shrouded in mystery underneath an iconic white robe with a yellow trim.

Not wanting my S/I to be dressed too similarly to the big bads, I had to opt for something a little more modest, and in line with the outfits the rest of Winds of Change's cast wear. I took to Google to cherry-pick several medieval outfit designs, and took my favorite aspects of each one to combine together into a base outfit.

For a while, the above lineart was just about all I could come up with. Of course, it looked a little bland by this point, but that was merely because I hadn't given him a good coloring, yet... but that was another hurdle of its own. I knew how I would color his fur and hair, but what about his clothes...?

Thankfully, Winds of Change's canon provided a solution. Around the point of the game where you receive the all-powerful Blade of Exodus— which we'll also focus on in due time— you also are given a change of clothes... clothes that are described as a 'combination of Valessa and Fortaime's outfits'.

It's a good thing that the base design I had already drawn didn't stray too far from a hypothetical mix between Valessa and Fortaime's clothes, and it even served as a good basis of how to color Micah Winddane's own. I color picked certain colors from both their designs to use in my S/Is and was soon able to settle on a color palette that I liked!

... but the design still felt particularly lacking. The colors looked great, as did what I had for an outfit, but the more I looked at my current progress, I felt as though something was missing... and then, I had a brilliant idea— if I couldn't give him a robe, what if I gave him a cape?

Fortaime's baggy scarf was my main inspiration in settling on a shoulder cape, and the instant I had the idea of giving my S/I one, I wasted no time in adding it to his design... and I'm so glad that I did, because it made him look SO much better!! I knew that I wanted his cape to be a shade of blue (My trademark favorite color), and settled on a faded shade since a more vibrant blue looked a little too shrill amidst the other colors.

Lastly, since my Winds of Change S/I is the foretold Seer, he would need to be equipped with the aforementioned Blade of Exodus throughout his adventure. However, upon coming up with the idea of giving Micah Winddane a large sword sling to carry the blade on his back, I realized something...

... the blade only has two canonical appearances from what I've seen, and only one of which— being found in the game's logo— shows it in full color. I was thankful to even have a visual of the Blade of Exodus, but only having the linked image to go off of in terms of color made redrawing it a bit tough, as I would have to improvise a bit to make it look less desaturated.

And what started out as improvising turned into a slight stylization of the Blade of Exodus' colors! Throughout the game, there's a large emphasis on how obvious it is that you're the possessor of the blade, and I decided to give the blade colors that stand out from the otherwise dull colors of Micah Winddane's outfit!

... uh, wow. I think that might just be my most in-depth design deep dive I've written yet. But everything that I wanted to touch base on has been accounted for, and with all of it written out at last, it feels so wonderful to finally get around to sharing this design with everyone as it's one of my ultimate favorite self-insert designs I've ever created!

#S/I #Self-Insert #Self-Insert Art #Fursona #S/I Ref #Fantasy Character Design #Self-Ship Community #Klace's Winds of Change #「Micah Winddane: The Valorous Visionary」#BREAKING NEWS: SHEEP TOO PURE FOR THIS WORLD #Because I've addressed everything in pertains to Micah Winddane's design just above...#... I saved talk in pertains to his personality for the tags #What makes Micah Winddane special is that I think he's the most like me out of all of my self-inserts #All of my other S/Is have some twist on their personalities- Psycha is 2000% wholesome and Quinn is a total klutz #But Micah Winddane? All of my choices in WoC so far pretty much reflect how I would think and act in such a scenario #He's a great deal more emotional out of all of my S/Is and does what he can to fight what he believes in- a better future #This of course provides a neat flaw in his character... becoming attached to those around him #Which in a time of war is the worst possible thing you can do seeing as you can lose anybody at a moment's notice.#Yet he perseveres. Seeing his destiny through to the end in the hopes that everyone he travels with joins him on the endeavor #I find that he has the most depth out of my self-inserts and is definitely something I want to make a post on in the future #But for now? If I ever want to request or commission art of my Winds of Change S/I with Valessa?#I have him all drawn out!

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ohproserpine · 3 months

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iii. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love, murder

The next night, Alastor returned in unusually high spirits. He practically dragged you onto the dance floor, twirling you around in dizzying circles for eight whole rounds. If you hadn't asked him to stop, you might have ended up collapsing from sheer exhaustion.

As it was a Saturday night and you weren't scheduled to perform, the trio of you settled in at the bar, enjoying drinks and each other's company as the night wore on.

"Come on, doll! Bottoms up!" Mimzy cheered, her laughter bubbling with infectious energy. The blonde pressed a crystal-clear glass against your lips, tilting it up and urging you to indulge further. The cool liquid burned as it slid down your throat, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. The room turned into a swirling blend of jazz melodies, clinking glasses, and loud, loud chatter.

After a few seconds, unable to endure the relentless flow of alcohol, you finally pushed her hand away with a sputter and a cough. The taste of the giggle water lingered on your lips as you slumped against Alastor's chest, your burning cheeks squished against the fabric of his coat.

"Had a bit too much, have we?" he smirked. The radio host smoothly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, the fine fabric of his suit brushing against your skin as he held you upright against him. You nestled against Alastor, swaying slightly to the music, the alcohol-induced haze casting a dreamy glow over your vision. "My, it looks as though the night's got its claws in you, cher."

"Not yet it hasn't," you grinned, your words slurring slightly as you shifted against him, a hand outstretched to grab your drink off the counter.

"Ah ah ah," Alastor chuckled as he took your glass from you, setting it aside with a careful motion. "Let's not push our luck, shall we?"

"Aw, don't be such a wet blanket!" Mimzy snorted, her curls bouncing as she plopped onto the seat beside you. "She's just having a good time! Ain't that right, doll?"

"Mhm!" you nodded your head eagerly before stopping, the ceaseless nodding causing a dull ache in your head.

"There's a good time, and then there's getting plastered. I'd hate to see the star of the show here end up on the floor. Ha ha!" Alastor boomed out with a laugh, catching you off guard. You would have stumbled off the seat if it weren't for his swift reflexes, his gloved hand wrapping around your arm to pull you back up.

"Such a klutz," Alastor tutted with a smirk as he steadied you. "See? What ever would happen to my favorite showgirl if I don't keep a watchful eye?"

"Oh, please!" Mimzy snorted as she slid another cool glass of giggle water in front of you, leaving a glistening trail of water from the condensation. "She's handled worse than this. We're just getting started!”

"Mimzy, my dear, it seems my words didn't quite get into that thick skull of yours," Alastor enunciated with a tight-lipped smile. "Allow me to say it in much more simpler terms; she has had enough."

"Oh, come on—"

"Do you want all your patrons to witness yet another fiasco in this establishment?"Alastor smiled as he bore his gaze into the blonde's doe eyes. "Because it does sure seem like a night can't pass here without a fuckup!"

Mimzy's shoulders raised in surprise. She stayed silent for a while before forcing out a response through gritted teeth. "No."

Alastor leaned in, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, voice devoid of his usual eccentricity. "Then dry up. Understood?"

"Understood," Mimzy rolled her eyes, tucking her chin to her chest as she stared at her feet.

"Lovely." Alastor hummed before straightening himself. And just like that, the tension dissipated, replaced by an air of nonchalance.

"Well! This has been a delightful night, but I do believe it's time to escort this lovely lady home, don't you think?" Alastor's tone shifted back to its usual charm, as nothing had happened. He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging your ditzy self out of the bar stool as he began to guide you out of the speakeasy.

"Best of luck, chums!"

"Can you believe it? That lousy, two-timing rat! You introduce him to the girl of his dreams, and what does he do? He high-tails it outta here with her, leaving us all high and dry!" Mimzy ranted, shaking her fist in frustration before pouring herself another drink. "Not a word for a whole week! I had to call in Nitwit Nancy to cover her Friday shifts! And you know that broad sounds like a screeching cat on a hot tin roof."

Beside her, Angel Dust was flabbergasted, his jaw hanging open with the champagne glass dangling loosely from his hands, its contents long spilled onto the counter, creating a shimmering puddle on the bar. Husk grumbled as he wiped the counter clean with a worn-out rag, eyes flickering between Mimzy and Angel.

The spider was staring at Mimzy as if the blonde had just sprouted a third tit, his eyes wide and struggling to process everything he had just been told.

“Why is you gawkin'?!” Mimzy leaned away from Angel, unsettled by the look on his face. “Aww. Is it 'cuz I'm adorable?”

"Fuckin' hell, toots," the spider coughed out a laugh. "I'm having difficulty understanding all that you just spat at me, blondie. What happened to you ‘keeping a secret’?"

Mimzy's body tensed, a sudden realization flashing across her face as she belatedly registered the fact that she had been running her mouth.

Shaking her head, she pulled herself back together with a huff. "Whatever, alright?! I doubt—"

Suddenly, a loud bang at the door echoed through the room, causing the two demons to startle in their seats. Mimzy's head snapped towards the source of the noise so swiftly she nearly gave herself whiplash. In growing horror, she watched as the hinges of the hotel's entrance door began to creak, the walls around them starting to crack and shed plaster.

"Mimzy! We know you're in there! You lousy bitch!"

"Oh, shit," she winced sinking into her seat.

"What the fuck—" Husk cursed, his words drowned out by the sudden explosion that violently rattled the lower windows. Shards of glass rained down onto the floor as dust and debris filled the air, choking their senses. Husk whipped his head around to glare at Mimzy when she vaulted over the bar counter, seeking refuge behind the sturdy wood.

"I fucking knew it. What shit have you brought to us this time?" Husk demanded, his grip tightening on her dress as he lifted her up. Another explosion echoed through the building, the shockwaves pulsing through the floor causing Husk to stumble and drop her.

With a pained grunt, the blonde crashed to the floor, her bruised front absorbing the brunt of the impact. As she lifted her head, she met Husk's glare.

"Ahah... Well," Mimzy sheepishly smiled, her eyes darting nervously as she cowered on the floor. The banging on the door grew louder and more aggressive, echoing through the hotel lobby like a menacing drumbeat.

Angel Dust stood frozen by one of the living room walls, his hands pressed against it to anchor himself. Suddenly, he noticed the television set flickering with an eerie glow, emitting dissonant static noises that seemed to crawl under his fur. The crackling sound took on an unsettling pitch, and an odd pink electricity surged through the screen, casting a sickly hue across the room. "What the fuck...?!"

In that moment, Vaggie and Charlie stormed onto the scene, their eyes widening in disbelief as they absorbed the chaotic sight. The hotel lobby, once orderly and serene, now lay in ruins—furniture overturned, glass shattered, and the wallpaper charred.

"What's happening?!" Vaggie exclaimed, swiftly drawing her spear and slicing a chunk of concrete in half before it could reach her. The broken pieces ricocheted off the walls, adding to the destruction.

"We are under sssiege!" Sir Pentious screamed as he scrambled to get Nifty into his arms, slithering behind the toppled-over couch for cover. The banging on the door intensified, accompanied by muffled threats and angry shouts from outside. "It'sss all that harlot'sss fault!

"Harlot?" Vaggie questioned, her fiery gaze sweeping the room for a familiar mop of blonde hair. Upon spotting Mimzy, her eyes narrowed as her lips curled into a snarl. "Explain."

"I may or may not be in trouble with an overlord! Well, maybe a couple of 'em," Mimzy rushed out, her words tumbling over each other in a nervous babble. "And I may or may not have 'borrowed' one of their top showgirls. And, well, got that girl killed… but she had it coming!"

Vaggie's patience waned with each new sentence Mimzy added, and a low groan escaped her lips.

"Leave this to me," she hissed, red-hot fury flashing in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her spear. "Everyone, get somewhere safe."

"I'm afraid that will not be necessary, my dear."

A sudden crackling static, skin to the ominous hum of a radio, seeped through the room as Alastor emerged from the shadowed corners. The demon's grin twisted unnaturally, stretching up to his glowing crimson eyes, which emitted an eerie, hollow glow. Tendrils of inky shadow began to writhe and sprout from Alastor's back, emitting sickening cracking noises.

In the blink of an eye, he dashed outside, engaging in his unholy work, swiftly and effortlessly ridding the area of its assailants. The air outside carried echoes of screams and the sharp, metallic scent of blood.

Before everyone could fully comprehend the whirlwind of events that had just transpired, the screaming ceased. Shortly after, Alastor returned to his usual demeanor. Nonchalantly stepping back into the damaged lounge, he dusted off his suit, traces of blood marking his path on the floors.

"Alastor! Babyface! Good show!" Mimzy began clapping, seemingly unfazed by the gorey scene as she stepped out of her hiding spot. "Bravo! bravo!"

Upon hearing Mimzy's voice, Alastor's head fully twisted around with a loud, bone-chilling crack accompanying the movement. The radio demon moved toward her, his towering 7-foot form eclipsing her much smaller figure. He bared his sharp teeth in a menacing smile as his antlers began to grow in length, curling and twisting over his head—a display nothing short of terrifying.

"You—"

"Alastor~" Charlie's voice quivered with forced cheerfulness, her hands wringing together anxiously. "Haha! Let's, uh, try to keep our cool here, okay? We really don't need any more messes, do we? Haha!"

The princess's attempt at forced cheerfulness made her look desperate, her manic expression surfacing as her pupils visibly shrank, darting around the room like startled prey.

Alastor closed his eyes, the tension in his form visible as he took a moment to regain composure. Gradually, his antlers reverted to their usual size. With an eerie calm settling over him, he reopened his eyes, though the strain was evident in his smile. "My apologies, chum. I'll be out of your hair in a bit."

He spared Charlie one more glance, his gaze piercing, before redirecting his attention to Mimzy. The intensity in his stare bore into her as he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Since you are so eager to catch up, why don't we have a talk? In private."

With that, the radio demon snapped his fingers, transporting both of them out of the lounge.

"Dumb bitch," Husk grumbled under his breath, covering his eyes with his paws and slamming his head onto the bar counter. "We're all fucked once he finds out."

"Find out what?" Walking up to him, Angel Dust shot Husk a confused look. The spider delicately brushed away the dust that clung to his grey fur, picking out the bigger pieces of cement and plaster. "I thought they were friends?"

Husk raised his head off the counter, mismatched eyes meeting Angel's own. "Not anymore."

Mimzy slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the surreal sight of a blood-red room surrounding her. It housed a radio station complete with an array of dials and a microphone, the very tools she knew Alastor utilized for his broadcasts.

'His broadcasting station?' she noted, curiously looking about the room.

Suddenly, Alastor's firm grip closed around her shoulder, causing her to whirl around with disorienting speed. His bloodied claws moved to cradle both of her rosy cheeks, their sharp edges looming dangerously close to breaking skin while he squeezed her face as though dealing with a disobedient child.

"I thought I made it very clear that you were to step nowhere near me," Alastor forced her to stare up at him. Despite the discomfort caused by Alastor's claws digging in, Mimzy maintained her confident demeanor and glared straight back up at him. "Did I not, dearest?"

"Oh, I just ran into a spot of trouble, and I thought, who better to lend a helping hand than you?" Mimzy rolled her eyes as she pulled herself away from his grasp, massaging the tender flesh of her cheeks. "You always love helping lil ole me."

"Enough. What is it you want?" Alastor snapped. "Should you persist in wasting more of my precious time, I will relish tearing you apart limb from limb, and the symphony of your sweet screams will be a broadcast for all of Hell to revel in."

Mimzy, unfazed, leaned in with a sly grin, her fingers playfully tracing the lapel of Alastor's coat. "Alright, tall, dark, and creepy. I know you aren't going to do shit."

"After all," she batted her lashes at him, "Hurting me would be hurting her, now wouldn't it?"

The blonde pressed her finger into his chest, poking him repeatedly. "That was in the contract~ You. Heartless. Son. Of. A. Bitch."

A low, guttural chuckle rumbled in the depths of Alastor's throat. "Oh, sweetheart," he drawled, catching her finger mid-poke. "You seem to be overlooking the delicate nature of contracts. It might be wise for you to tread more carefully, relying on such flimsy assurances."

"Flimsy?!" Mimzy scowled. "I got your girl on a leash!"

"Lets make this very clear," Alastor's voice deepened into a growl, eyes flashing red in warning. "This contract doesn't grant you a carte blanche to play games with my patience. If not for her plea to spare you, your fate would have been sealed by now."

As Alastor's grip moved to tighten around her throat, Mimzy's eyes nervously tracked the sharp edge of his claws, her breath catching in her throat.

"W-Whatevah! A contract is a contract," she retorted. Mimzy roughly pulled away from him, scrambling to gain the upper hand again. "Even if there ain't a soul exchange, it's still binding!"

"Yes, indeed! I am well aware of contractual obligations, dear," Alastor grinned, his cane tightening in his grip, claws leaving indents on the dark steel. Bending down to meet her gaze, he continued, "But you seem to have forgotten that time's almost up! The expiration for your contract is nearing. And when that happens, I do intend to reclaim what is rightfully mine – my wife. At that point, you will find yourself plunged into an abyssal world of unrelenting agony."

"Abyss, schmabyss. I've dealt with worse," Mimzy scoffed, her hand waving dismissively. "Now look, I got what I wanted outta you, and I don't have to take this."

With that, the blonde turned with a dramatic flair, her heels clicking against the floor as she stomped towards the door. She adjusted her hair and straightened her dress, a smug smirk dancing on her lips.

"Have fun with your little princess and your little project," she quipped.

Over her shoulder, she shot Alastor one last look, a sly glint in her eyes. "Because I sure am having fun with mine~"

Dry up - Shut up Giggle Water - Liquor Carte Blanche - Complete freedom to act as one wishes

#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor

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