#diego rojas

I'm doing a project for my (possible) webcomic. Basically every character in the webcomic with a skin disorder or severe scarring is drawn on the same sheet (kill me now). Nowhere near done yet, but here is Diego and Nyx! I'm honestly super proud so far.

Characters currently in the sketch faze: Alder "Adi" Rojas-Katz, Wisp Shao, Leika Goldmanm, Tatiana (no canon surname).

Anyways, context for the death parts is that the webcomic will take place in the afterlife, seen as what is likely the very last stop. You show up there after dying in another afterlife (there are many), and happened after a massive rift caused two afterlives to split, this one, The Otherside, and The In-Between, the place between life and death (it has a light basis on the Nevermore webcomic). They come from all different time periods, the youngest individual being from 2030, the oldest being hundred or possibly thousands (if not hundreds of thousands) of years BCE.

BUT it does have a horror element. It is very unstable, and monsters from all universes get dragged in. This is where the more multifandom element comes in.

THIS WORK IS PARTLY A MULTIFANDOM FANCOMIC WITH LOTS OF OCS. I doubt you will need context from the different fandoms they are from, but it will almost certainly have spoilers for fandoms like Warrior Cats, School Bus Graveyard, and the Nevermore Webcomic (definitely not fastpass, though. Can't even get it even if I wanted to bc me is broke little baby artist). Hell likely even a bit from Arcane and Carmen Sandiego!

Some (but not all) other fandoms I may use: Tomahawk Angel, The Amazing Digital Circus, and The Mandela Catalogue

Diego was first exposed to death when he and his twin sister, Clara, saw their mother and older sisters die by gunfire from other civilians due to racism (as his family has rather dark skin). He later died in front of Clara to the police.

His family.

Even after so long, Ghost still felt sometimes in awe when he found himself thinking about them as that.

His family.

Surrounded by laughter and happy chatter, sitting at the pub one Saturday night.

Yuri and Myléne sitting together, as close as they could be, with his arm around her shoulders, and sometimes whispering into each other’s ear. Sometimes even exchanging discreet kisses.

Johnny with Gabi sitting on his lap, sharing her cocktail after his beer was all but gone already, laughing the loudest.

Kyle and Diego sitting side by side, no doubt holding hands under the table. Gaz still had his right arm on a sling although his dislocated shoulder was so much better. Diego still looked awful with his face full of bruises, but the white flash of his pearly smile was as joyful as ever.

Price… his rock. His anchor. His heart clenched just thinking how close he had been to lose him. Now seeing him roaring with laughter with Nikolai, keeping Heather secured on his lap in spite of her protests about his mild injuries, it calmed his anxiety.

He could have lost him.

He could have lost both.

Freya, with Rudy. Ignoring the way Johnny still glared at him from time to time, even though he was more than okay with their relationship. All lovey dovey in spite of the way he was blushing, absolutely smitten with her and her bubbly smile.

Alejandro nudging Kyle’s side with his elbow, laughing at his Sergeant Major. Both of them had flown to help in the search, and two weeks later were still there, with the excuse of making sure everything was alright.

Farah nursing her orange juice, laughing at something Alex was trying to tell Laswell, while Kate looked like she was about to bail and go home, tired of dealing with drunks. But she stayed. Because they were her family too.

Two weeks after the all hands on deck call, and they were still there.

His family.

Nikolai, holding Olga close to his side, with one arm wrapped around her waist, and his free hand holding hers. Mirth in his eyes, but also fondness and that haunted look that had accompanied him the whole time the team had looked for Price and Riot. The haunted look that told him that he, too, thought all the time about what if.

What if they hadn’t found them.

What if they hadn’t found them on time.

What would they do without Price to steer them on the path.

What would they do without the ray of sun that was nestled against his side, giggling at one of Johnny’s stupid stories, her fingers interlocked with his while his free arm was firmly around her.

Ghost sighed, deeply, a low rumble inside his chest that made Christine look up at him, with her uneven smile and a questioning look in her blue eyes. And for the first time since they got them back, almost two weeks ago, Simon could shake Ghost off, and his face relaxed just slightly.

The skull balaclava was long forgotten on the table, after his fifth drink. In that moment, slightly buzzed by the alcohol, he didn’t care anymore about having his family see his face. All of them had seen it at one point or another.

Dark brown eyes searched her face, deliberately slow, waiting for the blush to appear when she felt the heat of his smoldering gaze. Her high cheekbones, still bruised. Her blue-gray eyes that still gave him chills. The smile that he had feared he’d never see again.

Simon didn’t even think about it. He didn’t stop to ponder, to wait for his usual reservation to kick in, for his aversion to public PDA to deter him.

He simply dragged her closer to his side, the hand that was on her shoulder reaching up to tilt her jaw up, and lowered his head onto hers until he covered her mouth with his, swallowing her surprised gasp with as much hunger as he drank her moans in bed.

A chorus of muffled gasps surrounded them when the rest of the gang realized what he was doing, but the only thing Simon focused in was on the way her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him down to her, kissing him back just as hungrily.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the desperation of not knowing if he’d get her and Price back alive. Maybe it was the secret yearn to seal the deal, to cry to the world that she was his and he was hers.

Simon almost chuckled when he heard Johnny cheering and loud clapping from who knew who, but he didn’t care. He only broke the kiss to allow Christine to breathe, their lips still touching, and smiled down at her. Sincerely. Happy.

And he had to drown laughter when her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down closer so they would kiss again. He barely saw her flipping the bird at Johnny when the Scot joyfully called for them to get a private room.

His family.