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chronicas · 6 months

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I've been following you for so long but I know nothing about your OCs (how? Idk.) so how about a basic rundown or something? Who's on the roster.

Ooooh man we've got a menagerie of guys over here in the Noxsylvaniaverse. Sorry I went overboard.

WELCOME TO THE NEW REQUIRED READING (joking)

ARRAY OF CICADAS Akira Akamatsu -> Devan Ranim -> Karma Gjalleon

Genre: Fantasy, Sci-fi Core themes: Comradery, grief, and redemption

Array of Cicadas is about a girl struggling with grief and the adventure that helps her come to terms with it. Akira is the protagonist (but not the main character) of AoC. Growing up in the magical realm of Genesis, Akira was raised as a Fire Mage, hiding from her family and everyone she knew that in reality she's an extremely rare Elemental Mage. She hid her power solely because she REALLY didn't like the son of the dragons (Ryuji, he's on this list in spirit) who would've become her teachers had she revealed herself. She moved from her magical homeworld to live on Earth and go to college after her sister's death. Family drama gets her thrown into Hveske where she meets her soon-to-be best friend, Devan! Devan is best described as Positive Change Personified. As the true main character of the story, there are very few people who's lives aren't improved by having this little guy in it. He meets Akira in the middle of his own personal quest to help his friends take down the Izebellian Empire, that's currently threatening to take over his home realm Hveske. Devan might still be just a kid, but he's always coming up with bright ideas that've gotten him and his friends out of dozens of scraps. Karma Gjalleon is the main antagonist of AoC. An unknown threat looms far greater and more powerful than that of the Izebellian Empire, that is the Regicidal Regent, Karma Gjalleon! She was once ruling regent of Hveske a few thousand years ago, but decided to broaden her horizons and now plans to conquer the entire universe! Her desire is to eradicate all tyranny by becoming the ultimate tyrant, once she has successfully done this, she wishes to be taken down herself by a righteous hero.

Array of Cicadas: Cryptadia Serendipity Grace Vulcan -> Salem Graves -> Qwynn Vandale

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Mystery Core themes: Identity, love (DIFFERENT from romance), stress/pressure

Array of Cicadas: Cryptadia is the second installment of AoC, taking place at the same time as the first. Akira disappears from the small Coloradian town of Adderdeen, kicking off a series of events that binds three of the town's most extraordinary people together to solve an interdimensional mystery. Serendipity is a teenage vampire who's adoptive family sent her to Adderdeen to study under the renowned Master Alchemist James Emperor. Serendipity lives with a poorly understood condition that makes it difficult for her to use her own magic, therefore she had to give up the family trade of witchcraft to learn about a more external magic like Alchemy. She struggles best she can to keep up with her magical studies as well as her high school studies as a foreign exchange student at Adderdeen High School. After she's found out as a vampire by her classmate Qwynn, she gets roped into a whole new world of mystery. She just hope her grades don't suffer too much as a result. Salem is a local celebrity in Adderdeen as host of a popular local radio show he titled The Nightwatch, a show cracking down on local supernatural sightings. He also balances his job as a mortician on top of it as well as raising his teenage sister single-handedly.. all while not letting it slip he's West Virginia's Very Own Mothman! After an encounter with an old moth-like spirit and a chaotic interdimensional entity at 13, Salem has to deal with being a towering moth monster when he's not in his glamored human form. He also takes on the daunting task of keeping the supernatural hotspot of Adderdeen a simple tourist town without letting the truth of the supernatural slip up. Qwynn is a simple teenage girl with simple aspirations. She wants to keep up her honor student status, get a good scholarship, get into a good, local, college, and also help her parents with their Monster Hunting Gig. Daughter of a human mother and a werewolf father, Qwynn is the only of her three siblings to not inherit lycanthropy from her father, much to her annoyance. Without claws or fangs to take down some of Adderdeens more unnatural inhabitants, Qwynn has to improvise with quick and flashy magic and even faster blades. All for the good of a town that will ideally never know the service her family provides. She makes it a point to investigate any strange happenings in Adderdeen, so it doesn't take long for her to figure out her new classmate is secretly a vampire or that the mortician who works with her mom is Mothman.

Array of Cicadas: [REDACTED] Penumbra -> Aranea Weltgeist -> Izebel Lucifer Walpurgis

Genre: Fantasy, Sci-fi Core themes: Knowledge, war, hope

Not much I can say about this installment as it would spoil the mysteries I'm setting up for AoC and AoC:C. But I CAN say this third and final installment of this story sets up the final confrontation and brings all our previously introduced characters together. Penumbra is a force by which many things have come to an end. Two thousand years ago she was merely a scientist who aspired to know more about the world around her. Her drive to learn more was inevitably her downfall. Her lover and enemy, Kirke, would later go on to use her findings to create a curse meant to Destroy the Universe. Aranea is a teenage visionary Created by her Father Out of Love using Alchemy. Her father, Issac Weltgeist, was found and murdered by the Izebellian Empire for his reasearch as a Master Alchemist. As a homunculus herself, Aranea was kidnapped in case she hid any secrets of her fathers research. Quickly dismissed by Kirke as useless to the empire's research on homunculi, Aranea was told to watch after the child Empress Izebel, who was only a few years younger than Aranea herself. Aranea spent the next two years searching for a way to escape the empire. Her plans where put into motion early when she found they had acquired the legendary sword Excalibur. Stealing the sword, Aranea made her escape. Izebel is a bit more of a figurehead as Empress of the Izebellian Empire. She was created by the sorceress Kirke to be the vessel for her curse. While she is a living source of destruction, Izebel is treated with respect by her underlings. However, the only person to truly show her kindness, was Aranea. Izebel quickly took to viewing Aranea as an older sister, and demanded she be treated with the respect an Empress' sister deserved. She did her best to give Aranea everything she wanted to make her happy, but refused to let her leave. When Aranea finally escaped, she left Izebel confused, heartbroken, and enraged.

Mother of the Apocalypse Alexios -> Asterius Polaris -> Armageddon

Genre: Cyberpunk, Fantasy, Tragedy Core themes: Family, lies, perseverance

MotA has nothing to do with AoC, and is instead it's own independent world. It's a story about a prophecy told by the Goddess of Fate to her oracles. That entails the end of the world at the hands of the Mother of the Apocalypse, only able to be stopped by the Savior of the Rim. How this prophecy ends, is up to Fate. Alexios is the son of Kepus, the Goddess of Life and Death, and himself, the Savior of the Rim. He much despises his own title. All he did to earn it was stop a Colossus that was bent on the destruction of a Spire. Now he's wrapped up in probably the dozenth prophecy in a life that's lasted over a millennia. Problem with this prophecy is that it wants him to kill someone to save the world, and he put such violence behind him centuries ago. With his newly adopted child to take care of, Alexios can't think much on how he'll save the world while sparring it's vessel of destruction. Asterius is the son of Taphion, the God of the Crypt, and Septentria, the Northern Star. However he spent the first 13 years of his live believing himself a demigod who had a human mother he never hat the opportunity to meet. Once his true identity was revealed to him, as well as his role in the prophecy as the Beast of the Crypt, a monster born to stand as the guardian of the Mother of the Apocalypse, he ran. He landed in the care of a hero, who he would later discover was the very man destined to kill him, the Savior of the Rim. After Alexios became determined to find a way to break the "curse" on Asterius (a clever lie the kid fabricated so he didn't have to reveal to his would-be murderer who he really was), the man came to see Asterius as his own child. As much as Asterius loves his new father, he can never bring himself to tell him the truth. Armageddon is the titular Mother of the Apocalypse. Daughter of Ignarus, the God of Destruction, she is destined to raze civilization to the ground. Unfortunately for Ignarus, she would rather die than have any part in the Apocalypse he curated for her. When the Savior of the Rim does finally come for her, she and Alexios' mutual interest in stopping the Apocalypse though means different than Fate has offered draws them closer together. Armageddon comes to believe that maybe their love will prove stronger than Fate herself.

LIZ and the Biohazards Logan Griffiths -> Samantha Griffiths -> Miriam Riveria

Genre: Horror, Sci-fi Core themes: Rebellion, survival, girlhood

Oh man I would love to tell y'all ALLLL about this comic, but as I am literally working on the script rn, you'll have to wait and see for most of it. But MAINLY, it's a story about a teenage science experiment who grew up in a lab and decides to break free and experience all the world has to offer. (Previously titled Unchained Phenomena) Logan Griffiths is labeled by most of the people who know him as a crazy conspiracy theorist, but Logan knows what he's seen and what he's heard. His son was sent to war almost 18 years ago and never came back. The last letter he received from his son detailed the horrors he had seen on the front lines, saying he fought beside people who "weren't people anymore". Ever since Logan has worked to crack down on the government's experiments on humans, and expose what decades of propaganda and coverups have worked so hard to hide. One disaster strikes the government base he's spent a decade studying, and his answers are delivered right to him with one phone call from some friends. He just didn't expect them to come in the form of a young girl. S-072, or Sam, as she prefers to call herself now, was created in a government lab after the Bio War ended in an attempt to bolster Texas' defenses as it stands on the brink of independence. S-072 was designed for espionage, with the original intent being to create a human who could alter their physiology to mimic anyone. However, while she can indeed alter her physiology, the raw-looking flesh and bone she is able to warp and change isn't going to pass as anyone alive. After the initial failure, they found that S-072 was better suited for just slaughtering things. She could withstand bullet wounds after training, she could warp herself into her own weapons, and was overall the perfect killing machine. Too bad someone started putting ideas in her head. Miriam is a survivor of war. She wasn't a soldier, but she was a sister, and a daughter. Her hometown was hit with a biological weapon and she lost her family and was left sick, disabled, disfigured, and traumatized. She did her best to survive, but unable to work, living on fixed income wasn't cutting it. When the government offered her an experimental cure for her illness, she took it without reading the fine print. Subjected to many experiments, but never a real cure, Miriam plotted a way out.

THE MIXED BAG OF RANDOM GUYS! "Charlie" -> Caelum Ketch - Jinlong

Dream Journal: The Central Mind

Genre: Horror, Sci-fi Core themes: The unknown, death, grief

This story is from a dream I had that I've reworked to make a story that I'd love to make into a short comic someday. The basic idea of the dream (maybe nightmare) was there was a family that lived on an island who were studying an interdimensional entity. Shortly after they moved to this island, their daughter died. Something, someone else.. came back. "Charlie" is the name of the person who is distinctly NOT Charlotte to anyone who looks close enough. A fragmented piece of a much larger entity with the mind and memories of the late Charlotte, Charlie is just trying to solve the mystery of why her family keeps acting so strange around her.

Cache of Sybaris

Genre: Sci-fi Core themes: Idk man it's just fun Space Pirates babeyyyyyy

The Sybaris Galaxy celebrates the many rich cultures that exist within it, art and culture is a top priority of the Galactic Union! So when the entirety of the latest Trivlexian exhibit on the planet Nik is stolen by Captain Wretch and her band of pirates, it becomes a Galaxy wide chase to steal it back! Especially to other pirate crews who might never have the chance to catch a better score. Ketch is one of such pirates who's crew is after Captain Wretch and her recently stolen goods. While most are after the art that was in the exhibit, the crew of the Red Death is much more interested in the Trivlexian technological artifacts. Namely because Ketch, the crew's finest mechanic, is Trivlex himself. Ketch knows well enough that anyone who isn't rich enough to be able to conveniently ignore is knows all Trivlexian artifacts are stolen, but he has no noble ambitions for his people's artifacts. He just wants to make better weapons and improve his crew's ships. Regardless of how many bounties it gets on his head in the process.

Shifting Stars and Moving Mountains

Genre: Fantasy Core themes: Grief, change, culture

SS+MM is a story that takes place in the same universe as Array of Cicadas, but remains mostly disconnected from the main story. It follows the dragons of Genesis, their politics, culture, and how they influence the rest of the realm. Jinlong is a young dragon, just a few decades over 500, who grew up during the Great Dragon Hunts. Jinlong lost both of his parents in the hunts, he survived the only way he could in such a time of hostility towards dragons, he lived as a human. A human family took him in and treated him as their own. Jinlong spent so long as a human he slowly lost touch of what it meant to be a dragon. After his youngest human sister died at the EXTREMELY impressive age of 200, Jinlong was taken in by Sage Ragnormr, an ancient dragon who advised him to rest. And rest he did, for 2000 years, Jinlong slept, regaining the strength he expended from holding his body in human form for so long. He awakes in the modern era, things have changed drastically, and this little dragon needs to learn what it really means to be a dragon again.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND I have 400+ other ocs that I won't cover on this post, but if anyone is ever curious about my silly little guys, there's nothing in the WORLD that brings me more joy than getting to talk about them with other people :)

#asks #ophidian lore #array of cicadas #array of cicadas: cryptadia #mother of the apocalypse #liz and the biohazards #unchained phenomena #dream journal #cache of sybaris #shifting stars and moving mountains

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glitchy-npc · 3 months

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WIP Whenever

ty @salem-wilde for tagging meeee 💚

uhhh what do I even got?

The wound will heal but the poison makes everything slow, sluggish. No, not everything, just you, and that realization sits heavy in your gut. You need to find someplace to shelter in, to rest and recover. The mouth of the sea cave opens like a prayer. Or a grave. Beggars can’t be choosers. Your bare feet splash through the shallow, icy water. Too late to mourn another pair of shoes ruined but you hadn’t planned on needing to transform so suddenly. At least most of your clothes are still intact, if worse for wear. Not to mention the blood, only some of it is yours.

A bit of monster au shenanigans (Isa's POV) before I was caught in the stranglehold of OC Kiss Week.

tagging @lordzenos @meonlyred @chthonictongue @ladyshivs @autistic-sidestep @wonda-ch for whatever you may be working on!

#tag game

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devil-doll13 · 1 year

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Graves of The Father

Tw: Angst, Horror, Death, Blood/Slight Gore, Implied Neglect/Abuse kinda?, Descriptions Of Corpses/Body Horrorish, like it gets a wee bit disgusting, Mentions of Birth, Religious Themes

Proceed With Caution!

I’m rather proud of this one, actually. It’s the most horror oriented fic i’ve made for Abigail yet. Some backstory/lore in here. A bit Lovecraftian but only a little. I’m still experimenting here lol.

Horror/Slasher Oc Writing For Abigail Williams

Basically a songfic, lyrics are in italics

Summary: Abigail & Her Father.

Dividers by firefly-dividers

Art by Takato Yamamoto

Sextons of the churchyard

Have seen unblessed things;

Ground no longer hallowed

Has sprouted new graves

Lucina Williams was found dead at 6:27, on a frosty November morning, in Salem, Massachusetts, in an old, weathered cemetery. She lay in the befouled hollow of an aged grave, her glassy eyes rolled back, convulsing in agony. And yet her face was twisted in an unnerving smile, disturbingly serene. She had died in a state of euphoric bliss. Happiness so unnatural, so completely grotesque, that her face had to be covered up in pictures; for the elderly gravekeeper’s state of mind. He had seen many awful things in his lifetime, but none so horrifying as this.

Lucy was buried in that very same churchyard. Her lonely grave untended to, unloved. No mourners or flowers were ever present, for she was disowned for some despicable deed the family would not speak of. Only that they were certain, absolutely so, that she had been taken in by the Devil; Lucy was pure evil.

The child she had given birth to, a pale, frightful specimen, was later christened Abigail. Her conception profane, her birth unnatural, her existence forbidden. A daughter of the grave, a creature born outside of God’s holy light. The wretched girl began her unfortunate life in shame. In the ever looming shadow of her mother’s sins, unable to redeem herself. A blight unto all; the final curse of a dying witch.

(The art of veneficium, Lucy learned from Him.)

Blasphemy made flesh. Ungodly freak, dark defiler. She poisons the family tree. The cuckoo in the nest. The snake in the grass. The fatal tumour.

The holy Father, not her Father, condemns her to eternal damnation, for rotten children do not deserve heaven. To plead for salvation is hopeless; there is no God who could give her purity back.

She simply should not exist.

(All of this, she has been told.)

Her family are repulsed by her, instinctively, but compelled by unknown forces to shelter her. They die one by one, at her unwilling command.

… But as a young girl she lives in merciful innocence. She knows not what she does, lost in her world of make believe. Strange yet wondrous creatures speak to her in the darkened night, as she dreams of flying amongst the glittering stars. Waving silver wands, casting magic spells. Dancing with dryads under the pale moonlight, enchanted by faeries; elven beings only she can see.

For if anyone were to turn their uncursed eye upon such abominations, madness would destroy them.

(Her older cousins, aged seven and eight, refused to speak of the incident. They refused to speak at all. Until death.)

Descendants of a clan

That usurped maternity

Hear whispers in their blood;

This summons of their fathers.

In a loveless home, she yearns for love, as all God’s children do. But cold hearts yield only emptiness, and hateful whispers spur her on to look elsewhere.

The graveyard beckons, begs her to draw closer. An almost desperate compulsion. Homesickness. As she walks amongst decaying tombstones, she hears ghostly whispers call out, and feels wraithlike fingers comb through her hair. A spectral voice cries out for sweet nourishment; she offers it her milk to pacify.

There, in the dark recesses of the churchyard’s ancient yew tree, she begs for comfort. She lies coiled as foul, egg despoiling serpent.

(As in the garden of Eden, she is the great deceiver.)

Inside she feels the thrum of an old God’s heartbeat. It exactly mirrors her own; an inherited resonance.

So powerful is this connection, she sees in her mind’s eye the unearthly form of the Father. The yew tree His outstretched hand, their gnarled, malformed branches His fingers, toxic sap His blood, unending roots His veins from which His dark ichor pulsates.

Her fingers trace the ancient bark, recounting primordial treelore. Her blood stirs with eldritch knowledge. Visions echo from another world far back behind her eyelids and inside her mind, as the Father summons her from deep below.

(Far from God’s condemning eye.)

“Forgive me Father

For I know not what I do;

My grave beckons

As irresistible as drawing breath.”

In the old yew she sleeps and dreams of His majesty. The Underworld, home of the blessed dead. Outside of this mundane plane of existence, his shadowy domain. It is a labyrinth of catacombs, endless and unfathomable. It eternally devours itself, serpentine; the cycle of life and death unfolding. Forever.

She peers into the gaping maw of Hades, in which the Great Gravekeeper resides. He sits upon a throne of misshapen yew, a monstrosity of wood and decayed flesh, and He is wreathed in bloodsoaked thorns and cloaked in an abyssal shroud. Atop His massive head rests His magnificent Crown of Horns.

The spirits of the departed kneel before Him in worshipful devotion, their servile offerings reek foul miasma. They chant in feverish orations, invoking His accursed epithet:

(Father of The Graves. None So Vile.)

His true name is unspeakable in human tongue, yet it throbs deeply in her soul, as familiar as her own.

His countless reptilian eyes turn to watch her in curious amusement. Her body shivers, an instinctive fear. The Father observes His daughter, and in recognition, He reaches out an ashy, skeletal hand for her to grasp. It is kindly, almost gentle. Loving.

… But every time she awakes in tormented screams. Her mortal brain is seized by otherworldly forces. Inside her witchblood boils with poison. She feels unbearably empty. The hollowness is agonising; she does not belong here. But there, by her Father’s side.

(And yet, she serves a purpose here, for He would not create without reason. Between life and death, she acts as His median emissary.)

Nature abhors a vacuum

The same is true to a tomb…

A vacant grave must be filled,

For this the Father’s will.

On Hallowe’en, she prepares for the welcoming feast.

The chosen victim lies screaming on the altar, gutted in ritual sacrifice. Arterial blood fills the chalice, spilling onto her conjuring sigil. A sickly green cloud of smoke emanates from within; The Dark Ones are appeased. She murmurs incantations, praying in an eldritch language. Her Father’s tongue.

Another shrill shriek of pain fills the air as she continues the disembowelment. Unflinching, she rips through soft flesh; carving out her choicest cuts. They cry and beg her to stop, to please god stop and oh god please stop like a bleating, pathetic lamb.

(“Be quiet.” She hisses. She must have silence.)

Candles flicker, wavering in the late October wind. Thunder cracks the livid sky, wild forks of lightning split across a hellish landscape of her own design. Acid rain floods a barren wasteland, corrupting the once fertile soil and disintegrating crops to dust. There is no escape. Under His reign, all will wither.

A gaping chest wound as she extracts the heart, relishing in the final cry of a slaughtered pig. For a moment she holds it, admiring the coveted organ. Dark, warm rivulets of blood flow across her palms and through her fingers. Pure and untainted. So unlike her own.

The first time she has killed with her own hands.

(It felt good to be cruel. To eat her guilt and shame.)

She turns back to her altar, prepares the sacrament:

A black box, dripping vile fluids; her phylactery. Her shadowed grimoire, bound in dark, hard leather. Nightshade, hemlock, aconite. An hourglass of ash, pilfered from a funeral urn. An assortment of bones, human and animal. Her ritual sickle, seeped in gore and entwined in snakeskin. Objects of witchcraft.

Now joined by the heart, lungs, stomach, the entrails, the severed head and the tormented soul. All them are hers now. Her cabalistic hoard. Madness overtakes her then. It spikes in her brain like fever. She grasps the overflowing cup of blood with one pale, bony hand. And, with a decadent sigh, tips it into her open mouth. It trickles slowly into her throat. She swallows it. It tastes like copper, like iron, like death; a flavour gone sweetly rancid.

(She is without mercy. Without compassion. The Father’s will is absolute. She will sow the bitter seeds of His funeral empire and be rewarded in death.)

Sired in blasphemy

In nocturnal obeisance to rotted hearts

Filled with necrolatry

Reverse the life cycle, be reborn through death

Now the time has come. She must reap her harvest.

Autumn’s frost bites her face. A deathly chill pierces her bones, but she does not shiver. She is serene, so oddly calm in her unraveling mind. Twisted, maligned branches of the old yew tree find her again and guide her to the cobwebbed graveyard.

Under the midnight sky, the tombstones appear as a sea of desolate grey waves, blanketed in fog like a funeral shroud. In that misty gloom, she walks amidst weeping spirits. They reach out with icy phantom limbs, offering up sepulchral hymns to their unholy lich mistress, they plead for their salvation; to be granted life once again.

(For the first time she will answer their prayers.)

Tonight, she will pervert life’s sacred order. Tonight, she will defy the righteous fury of God. Tonight, the Father’s will is to be carried out, as the once dead shall be reborn from the womb of the earth and usurp the living. By His will. By her will.

A moment of silence as she contemplates the vastness of her actions now, the end result of a perfect tantrum. She remembers all the faces turned away, all that would sneer at her demise. All of the fear, disgust and hatred, eyes seething and spiteful. Their eyes. Her eyes.

Blackened slivers of ichor drip from her sickle. Her own blood, her venom. So impure, so violently cancerous. It taints the consecrated land below. Theirs. Hers.

(Its blade reflects the moonlight, pale and haunting.)

And so from her lips spills a forbidden spell. Her cursed blood is absorbed into putrid grass, where it slowly coagulates into an obsidian snake. It slithers downward, downward, downward, into the many awaiting, hungry mouths of a thousand corpses.

From below an eerie moan. Singular, then multiplied. A foul odour wafts through the air as the tombs unseal, dark fog swirling in a shadowy haze. The Underworld exhale, from the filth they emerge:

Undead victims of plague, riddled with disease, lift their filthy, maggot-infested bodies from the infected earth. A writhing mass of baleful poxflesh, leaking yellowed pus and choked with vomit. Frenzied, murderous abominations scream in rage and bloodlust, tearing apart coffin lid and shattering tombstone to dust. Withered and shambling corpses groan in despair, ravenous victims of starvation. Their mortal hunger torments them still. They salivate and froth desperately at the mouth, crying in their desire to consume flesh and suck marrow from bone; to devour utterly. The drowned are bloated, soaked in embalming fluids. Their skin is cold and their lips are blue. They are still. Lifeless, glassy eyes stare up at the evil moon. Frozen. Possessed.

(Pestilence. War. Famine. Death.)

Observing her resurrected horde, she is filled with an intense feeling of power. It is intoxicating, so alluring. She reaches up an outstretched hand, as the malevolent puppet master, and they are forced to dance for her on invisible strings. Her magic binds their souls in eternal undying servitude. Pawns of her twisted vision, ensnared in her web, bewitched by her black sorcery. They shall all be as one. Necromantic slaves. Forever in her chains.

The Witching Hour bell tolls, thirteen times, as it did on the eve of her birth. The dead surround her in undivine mass; their vile priestess. They lift her onto many decrepit, rotted shoulders, and upon her head they crown a wreath of thorns, a halo of briar and sin. Her face is white, vacant. She no longer feels pain.

Infernal legions rise. Under her command, they begin their dread march. Onward, towards the apocalypse.

(No regrets. No going back. The end has begun.)

Her tears flow freely now, her body numb with cold. She recites in hushed whispers a final invocation, one final goodbye:

“Forgive me Father,

For I know not what I do;

I leave a void to fill one,

Hear my prayers from far below…”

Once I finally get around to writing that backstory fic it’ll add more context to this one. Thanks for reading!

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @soupbabe, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @solmints-messyocdiary)

#I told t33th her father wasn’t human and well…#yes he resurrected her in prayers for rain #I can’t tell if this was really long or if I just agonised over every sentence #also references to other cryptopsy songs #Abigail Williams #Abigail #Abigail Williams oc #my writing #fanfic #slasher oc #horror oc #my stuff

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noxsylvania · 1 year

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Noxsylvaniaverse Character Showdown 2k23!!!

I’m hosting a silly little bracket for my silly little guys. I’ll start posting polls this week, doing four polls a day for round one.

My characters are deeply important to a lot of people in my life, many of them are not on tumblr. For those people I will be using a survey for each round to determine the final votes.

ROUND ONE MATCHUPS BELOW:

Devan Ranim (Array of Cicadas) vs Caelum Ketch (Cache of Sybaris)

Jinlong (Shifting Stars and Moving Mountains) vs Azar (Array of Cicadas)

Asterius Polaris (Mother of the Apocalypse) vs Lumaria Stellarune (Array of Cicadas: [REDACTED])

Serendipity Grace Vulcan (Array of Cicadas: Cryptadia) vs Count Skadumire (Tragoedia: The Blackened Skies)

Aranea Weltgeist (Array of Cicadas: [REDACTED]) vs Penumbra (Array of Cicadas: [Redacted])

Caz von Wraith (Array of Cicadas) vs Ryuji (Shifting Stars and Moving Mountains)

Qwynn Vandale (Array of Cicadas: Cryptadia) vs Alexios (Mother of the Apocalypse)

Izebel Lucifer Walpurgis (Array of Cicadas: [REDACTED]) vs Kirke (Array of Cicadas: [REDACTED])

Akira Akamatsu (Array of Cicadas) vs Sage Ragnormr (Shifting Stars and Moving Mountains)

Ophelia Pendragon (Array of Cicadas: [REDACTED]) vs The Knight (One More Thing Before You Go)

Samantha Griffiths (Unchained Phenomena) vs Sylvia Belladonna (Array of Cicadas: Cryptadia)

Prince Kuri (Array of Cicadas: Cryptadia) vs Damrina (Mother of the Apocalypse)

Karma Gjalleon (Array of Cicadas) vs Sage Arahunna (Shifting Stars and Moving Mountains)

Armageddon (Mother of the Apocalypse) vs Quartermaster Vendetta (Cache of Sybaris)

Salem "Mothman" Graves (Array of Cicadas: Cryptadia) vs Chaos (Mother of the Apocalypse)

Leonardo LaNoir (Array of Cicadas) vs Lazarus Volaan and Howl (Destiny OCs)

#noxsylvaniaverse showdown #ophidian lore

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captainyuutsu · 10 months

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Reference list of (some) OCs:

- Tess Saintangelo, New Vegas, Courier 6

- Raven Graves, Fallout 4 (alternate start), Sole Survivor of a raider gang called The Reapers

- Qutessant Goldsand, Sole Survivor of Salem, previously Martha Corey (QU-77)

- Mauxxie Firewalker, dnd character, Magic not!Monk

- Tequila Morrison, Kalashtar Artificer/Ranger

- E and Good Juju, Destiny Warlock and Ghost

- Echo-2 and Luna, Destiny Hunter and Ghost

- Undyne and Crypt, Destiny Titan and Ghost

#i have a lot #but these are my favs #they my little blorbos #dnd #5e #destiny 2 #fallout new vegas #fallout 4

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gentleeclipsey · 8 months

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🍉 for all your muses

🍉 what will your oc take to the grave?

For Salem, it's the fact he's willingly killed in the past. He'd never flaunt this of course, but he killed those who took his horns. For an Anphi, taking a life is serious, and while he feels nervous his family may find out somehow otherwise he feels no guilt killing them. It's merely trying to keep himself safe.

For Jackie, it's her human disguise. She pretends to be a changeling, which makes her beneath changelings themselves, she's complete trash to every other troll who finds out. She knows people barely like her now, but the moment anyone finds out no one would ever love her.

For Skar, it's the fact she drove herself mad hating Gunmar, but now, she's relieved. She's happy Gunmar did it. Orlagk wanted Skar to take over, but she didn't want to. She wanted to be a good daughter in his eyes. She loves her father still, she kept all of his teeth, but she simply didn't want to lead the Gumm-Gumm's. Now, she doesn't have to, and she's happy with that.

#trollhunters #toa trollhunters #tales of arcadia #salem #jackie #skarlagk the scorned #skar

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rosemaryblossoms · 1 year

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Biker oc and Au fun facts part Two

Warning(s)⚠️: small mentioning of cannibalism.

Loveless, Rival, and Wild biker boys belongs to @ewwwabug

The reason some of Igor’s fluids are sweet is because one of his parents is a deity that deals with sugar.

The loveless biker boys officially met Kenneth at a bar talking to Nguyen.

I was originally thinking about making Aubrey Neon’s ex but then thought it might be weird.

Ricardo is terrified of Sajik’s appearance due to nightmares and his sleep paralysis demon. And the fact that Sajik and Neon are looking for him.

Petunia was friends with Duke, though she didn’t know about Duke’s gang activities.

Every now and again Salem would play the song with the lyrics “I’m still alive” and dance on William’s grave, he also sometimes invites Jeff.

Ricardo is terrified of Jeff because he actually witnessed Jeff eating out Dukes insides without Jeff noticing. He is worried that if Jeff found out he saw him he would give him the Duke treatment. Ricardo properly met Jeff at Vince and Aubrey’s house, he nearly pissed himself. (Poor Ricardo)

Melancholy “Sad” or Varai from Gulliver’s ghost loves arts and crafts, his favorite thing to make is worm on a string earrings. (I’m not talking about an actual worm on a string, I’m talking about those cute fuzzy little thing with googly eyes that we call a worm) He made a pair for wild Varai, they were pink with a white cloth on its back with a strawberry on it. He also made him strawberry milk earrings.

Twisted Jatay repairs any machine in their dimension.

#loveless biker boys #au #lbb #gulliver’s ghost #lbb oc #rival biker boys #rbb oc #rbb #twisted biker boys

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windblume-wishes · 2 years

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Just A Bunch Of Hocus Pocus - Twisted Wonderland

Ace, Deuce, and Blume are helping Sam clear out some old boxes of mysterious items that he has in the back. When Blume discovers a mysterious old candle who knows what trouble can come with it?(Featuring Blume!! My OC!!)

Wattpad AO3

Chapter 2: A Virgin Lit The Candle

It was now sunset, the sun hang low on the horizon as it slowly sank below the waves. The sky was becoming dark quickly and the wind blew a chill through the crisp autumn leaves. There was a rich scent of wood fire burning from the Ramshackle fireplace with soft crackles and pops emerging from the flames as they danced like a ribbon in the wind.

Ace and Deuce sat by the fire with Grim while Blume sat on the sofa still admiring the details on the candle, there was something about the candle that fascinated Blume- the design depicted a time of pain and sadness for witches, there were women being hung in the imagery and there were cauldrons and strange symbols littered in the design- it was quite unusual but nonetheless beautiful in its own way.

Blume stood up and placed the candle atop the kitchen table, preparing the boys some hot cider and Grim some tuna in his favourite bowl. Blume could feel a strange energy- one that was almost drawing her back to the candle. Blume had ties to Salem in their world, it ran deep within her veins, an ancestor who was responsible for hunting and even killing many suspected witches was the blood she carried. A chill went down her spine, reddish hair began to puff in response to the chill but paid no mind to it.

"Boys, Grim! I have cider and tuna for you three!" Blume called from the kitchen, almost instantly the three darted in and sat at the table with a mug of cider in their hands and Grim happily munching on his canned tuna. "Not sure what it is but that candle is calling my name- it's just- I'm not sure I should light it... there's something strange about it..."

"Blume, are you being a bloody chicken because of some scary story?" Ace smirked. "Never you would get cold feet with a stupid candle! Haha! Girls are always scaredy-cats, eh Deuce?"

Blume punched Ace on the shoulder, huffing in disapproval with his remark. "Jerk! That is false on a number of levels!"

"Yeah, Ace, if Leona can be good to ladies, you can too... please do not make Blume angry..." Deuce sighed, taking another sip of his cider.

"You know what, fine! I'll light the bloody candle since you both are too chicken, it's as Blume said earlier! It's just a bunch of Hocus Pocus, eh?" Ace grinned mischievously as he took the lighter out of the kitchen drawer, Grim already hopped off the table and into Blume's arms, shivering.

"Ace! You are scaring Grim! Grim, it's okay buddy, there, there, kitty." Blume soothed, petting his fur gently as he buried his face into her neck, not caring about his claws digging into her sweater. "Ace- think about this- if it is the real one.... You know what will happen!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll summon some old hags back from the bloody grave! What did Trein say, a virgin has to light the candle? Here I am!"

"Um, guys..." Deuce spoke up in confusion. "What's a virgin?"

Ace and Blume looked directly at Deuce who stood there looking innocent and confused, one would think at age sixteen he would understand the concept of virginity but it appeared not, not even after the "Chicken Trauma" two months ago.

"Deuce, sweetie, you see- well- um... lets have Trey talk to you about that... oh dear..."

"Dude- how do you not know?! Whatever- I'll get you some magazine- geez! How embarrassing... sixteen and never had the ol' talking to?! Whatever- light em up!"

Ace turned the lighter on and lit the candle, the flame turned black, it WAS the candle!

"Uh oh-" the ginger groaned, realizing how terribly he messed up.

Suddenly all the lights went out with a bang, the ground began to shake and the cracks between the floorboards began to glow an ominous green. Chaos was coming and there was an eerie energy in the air. Everyone screamed as the whole dorm shook and creaked then suddenly it stopped- everything was silent.

"W-what happened?!" Ace sputtered in disbelief. "What the bloody hell was that?!"

"A virgin lit the bloody candle!" Blume grumbled, still holding Grim as Deuce hugged them both.

All of a sudden the lights turned back on one by one with a pop, there was a sound of cackling older ladies coming from the back door. The four of them looked at each other and ran to the pantry where they could hide, hoping they would not be seen. The door burst open and three witches entered, cackling heartedly at their grand revival courtesy of Ace.

"Ohoh! We are back! We are back, sisters! But, where are we? I smell children~! Delightful!" Winifred exclaimed excitedly, sniffing the air as she walked around the kitchen.

"Winnie! Look! The candle is lit! Did another child light it?" Mary replied as she circled the kitchen table.

Sarah began to sniff the air like a hound, catching a wiff of the four and moving closer to the pantry. "Winnie! I smell two little boys and I think a girl!"

"Find them! Find them and my book! I must have my book! Those little rats must have it!" Winifred huffed, digging through the cabinets for the spell book.

"Found you!" Sarah burst the pantry open suddenly, causing the bunch to scream in surprise. "Look, Winnie! Teenagers! Three of them and a kitty!"

"G-go away! Leave us alone!" Deuce yelled, swatting Sarah's hand away from him. "I'll blast you back!"

"Yeah! I will too!" Ace spoke up, grabbing his magic pen from his pocket and pointing it at Sarah but it was no use, Mary quickly approached and dragged him out. "Hey! Let me go!"

"Feisty little boy, you are! And look! A wand, I see? You are a magical child, hm?" Winifred asked, running her long nails along his face.

"Yeah I can do magic! You are at a whole school full of us who can! Mess with one of us and all of us will bast you old hags to the past!" Ace barked back.

"Grab the other two!" Winifred ordered, watching Blume cling to Deuce and Grim. Mary and Sarah separated the two, each witch had one from the group.

"This girl, you are a girl right? Trousers on a lady?" Winifred questioned as she moved towards Blume. "And what is this? A cat? Not a black one but a grey one with strange blue ears? Odd creature- are you a witch, girl?"

"No? Not exactly... I can do magic but I would not consider one's self to be a witch." Blume responded with a huff and a glare.

"Winnie! Winnie! Look at her hair! It's red! Remember how this hair colour was feared? Haha!!" Sarah laughed as she played with Blume's hair. "Oh and her eyes! Green eyes are a witch's eyes!"

"O-Oi! Let her go! Let her go o-or I'll drop a cauldron on you!" Deuce threatened, whipping out his pen and pointing it at the three witches. "I WILL DO IT!"

The three stood there laughing, not taking him seriously which only angered the navy haired boy more.

"Oh? What is a little boy going to do to us, hm? We are experienced witches! You are but- well by your scent I'd wager a beginner! Children these days think they are so tough!" Winifred cackled but it was too late, Deuce had already begun to summon the cauldron.

"COME FORTH, CAULDRON!" A loud bang echoed through the house, shaking the ground, they were being squashed under its weight, but they knew they had to run as it would only hold for a little while longer. "RUN! Hurry let's go get Crowley and- uh- and Housewarden Rosehearts!"

—————

Lesson of the day is one should never light a suspicious candle from the past... you never know who you will bring back from the grave...

- Windblume

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst fanfic #twst #ace trappola #twst deuce #deuce spade #twst ace #hocus pocus #twisted wonderland fanfiction #fanfiction #halloween #disney fanfiction

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