#not oc tag

[tag-that-oc]

Anyone else imagine their OCs with them while they go about day to day activities? I especially do this when in a crowded public place. To other people, I probably just seem like I'm day dreaming or lost in thought. But really, I'm mentally picturing my OC standing there somewhere nearby. Maybe reacting to the world around them or having a telepathic conversation with me. It sounds weird to do, but I find it comforting.

YES I DO THIS!!!! i love love love to take my little guys with me in my head when i go places its like having a friend all the time

#anonymous #not oc tag #moss answers

[agender-wolfie]

Guys. Stop tagging your OC stories as X reader. It’s hard to sift through and I don’t go to the x reader tag for OC’s I don’t care about .

#that tag is specifically for readers #not oc related #i mean ffs #not oc tag #not ocs #arthur morgan x reader #jacob seed x reader #far cry 5 #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #jill valentine x reader #carlos oliveria x reader #albert wesker x reader #master chief x reader #halo #I don’t give a fuck about your ocs #levi ackerman x reader #erwin smith x reader #nicky valentino x reader #spn lucifer x reader #gabriel x reader #oc fanfiction #v x reader #dante x reader #vergil x reader #beelzebub x reader #benny lafitte x reader #reiner braun x reader #hange zoe x reader #crosshair x reader

[axxaryllis]

♡ pinky and pepper! ♡

#pinky and pepper forever #pinky and pepper #pinky cooper #pepper parson #my artwork #not oc tag #anthro #anthropomorphic #anthro art #furry #puppygirl #pinky and pepper fanart #procreate art #my art #pinkie cooper #small art blog #furry art #furry sfw #sfw furry #i love when cute puppygirls are juxtaposed with hellish suffering and horror… gotta be one of my favs #eddy atoms

[bunthebunarts]

i forgot to post this earlier in the month!!

but i made a little personal piece for pride<3

#bun arts #digital art #not oc tag #pink #pride #self love #illustration #bunny #it me :3

[ervona]

Day 6: In Bloom / Blood for @tes-summer-fest

Somewhere in the mists of hopefully still Molag Amur, a boy had lost control of his guar. It was his fault, having ridden too far away from the lake, but he’d been meaning to turn around when it had knocked him off with never-before-seen force and started running away. He followed it still within sight, somewhat slowed down by his armor, but he would have to get used to it if he were ever to become a knight. At this point his absence was sure to be noticed, and Ser—

What was that? His guar let out a frightening cry. Alas, he wasn’t the first to reach it, though he had run so close and out of breath. There was an unfamiliar robed figure, a swipe of too-sharp claws, a sickly light, stains in the ash. He reached for his sword, heavy and slipping with sweat, when the sunken face came into sight and he screamed.

Help wouldn’t come, for he had ridden too far away. He could only pray to the ancestors now. His shaking legs tripped him up as he tried to run, the armor pinned him down beneath the looming wormlike snout and bloodied claws. Uncertain was which one of them was shrieking louder. Another flash of light caught his eye before he slipped on a rock and out of consciousness. 

When he came to, he was struck by the scent of flowers and a throbbing in his head. Was he taken to the Moonshadow? No, merely his bed, with a vase of fresh willow anther and stoneflowers for good health and peaceful sleep, he remembered from his lessons in a bid to pull himself into the waking world. He was back home, alive, though he could hardly move.

Ama who was sat at his bedside stirred before him, as he was tucked in too-warm blankets up to his neck and only managed a few blinks. She shouted at a servant to bring something and pulled closer, her long braid dragging itself like a snake, her face paler than usual.

“Mavus! Oh, finally. Are you hungry, dearest?” There’d been a bump on his head where she kissed him gently, and when he raised himself up on his elbows to sit upright, he could see peeking from under his nightshirt dark bruises in bloom. 

“Aha-gh,” he coughed, and Ama handed him a cup from the nightstand. The cold splash of water was needed but unpleasant, through half-shut eyes he could see a large tray with food coming in.

“You’d think I asked for it tomorrow,” her voice took on a chilling tone when she grabbed it, placing it on her lap in view of Mavus. “Now get out, I’ll ring the bell if I need anything.”

The servant closed the door hurriedly, making him flinch from the noise. Ama took a bowl of steaming crab stew and pointed the spoon towards him as if he were a little scrib. 

“Sup it slowly, I don’t want you to feel ill.”

It hurt to swallow it even slowly, his throat torn by crying out for help. Still unsure what had transpired, he only wished to feel relief for being alive. He must’ve been staring at Ama, for she craned her neck as if expecting a question, brow pinched in worry.

“What happened to me? I was…” Reaching into his last memory got a sob out of him, nearly stew all over him. The gruesome display, the creature that had savaged his guar so and almost him as well, was hiding in the shapeless mash of the bowl.

“Brought in down from Nabia by boat. We had the Temple healer treat you there and then, but you were more terrified than hurt. Thank the Three.” Ama offered him a comberry jam tartlet from the tray, to which he shook his head. “Ser Dren told me everything already, you don’t have to retell it, unless that would help you.”

What if he’d told her that Mavus was a terrible squire who’d wandered off and almost got himself killed? His voice escaped him, and he wanted to tell Ama so badly that he hadn’t meant to, he hadn’t been thinking, but his mouth was as dry as those ashen wastes he was crossing ever still in his mind, repeating and haunted by a myriad of misshapen monsters.

“The guar—” was all he could muster before gurgling hot tears, his face burning. 

“We’ll buy you a new one. A better one!”

“No, no, I saw it…”

Ama nodded knowingly, diverting the subject. “They went to scour the area, you know. Whatever was out there is nothing to fear anymore.”

“Can you read me a story?” he asked, muffled in her wide sleeve. All he wanted was for it to go away, but loomed over him, ravenous soul-sickness. Ama was eager to do so, laid down beside him and took a book from the other nightstand, The Song of the Alchemists, and her sing-songy voice rocked him to sleep once again, but kept the terrors away if only for now.

In the wee hours–and he knew so for it was all quiet but the nightly bugs outside–Mavus arose slowly, gripping the frame of his bed in case his legs gave out again. Ama was no doubt up in her room, finally able to sleep herself, and he didn’t know if Ser Dren had visited again. He’d dreamed of the day, and in his dream a warm light pulled him ever closer. Ama, he’d thought, but it must have been Cardama who had protected him in that waking nightmare.

He knew the way to give tribute to the ancestors–sort of–but Ama didn’t like him handling the hearth on his own, even though he wouldn’t be hurt. He threw one of the blankets over himself like a cloak and gathered what he could from his surroundings. Cold jam tartlets that sat out the night, and a handful of flowers from his bedside that filled the room with sweetness.

Descending in silence to where the family shrine encircled a still-living hearth, he paused to look around the hall. Darkest darkness was calling him, and within it lurked terrible things. His only way away was the fire, weak but welcoming and enveloping him with the strength he needed to cross the threshold. Laying down what he’d carried in his makeshift cloak, he took a deep breath. First he offered a tartlet that burned slowly, then a stoneflower, and his heart’s wish.

The fire roared scarlet, and he wasn’t afraid one bit. “Cardama, is that you?” he whispered, face so close to the embers that he could swim in them. To his astonishment, she answered.

“Indeed it is, scrib,” the fire crackled, “but do not accustom yourself to calling upon me as you did now. It is my duty to watch over you, and from that us spirits are weary enough.”

“I won’t keep you for long. Just wanted to thank you and give something in return.”

“Something in return? Then listen well, for all I ask—protect the helpless, as I have you.”

“I’m going to be a knight, so I’ll help everyone in need,” he hesitated for a moment, with his embarrassment in mind. Would a true knight just give up and flee from a monster as he had?

The embers huffed. “Do you think of who brought your cakes, who harvested the comberry and wickwheat, who planted the seeds, when you offer them to me? As a knight, would you lift your sword to strike at the bracers that hold them prisoner and spirit them away from this place?”

“They’re not prisoners, they work for Ama. I… think she wouldn’t be happy with that.”

With his words, the fire sputtered and went silent. Had he displeased his ancestor? He felt a chill on the back of his neck, as if a dreadful curse crept upon him, but he didn’t understand.

“Hear me now, not because you are of my blood, but if it flows from out of a good heart,” she finally whispered back to him, not through the fire, through the very air itself. “Do not fear to wander, if your cause is just. Perhaps you could do right by what I gave my life for.”

“I don’t understand, Cardama. You want me to die?”

The air around him laughed, somehow, and ash blew into his face just right to remind him of his lowest moment. He could not cry in the presence of his guardian, but wasn’t that always?

“Live, wander and wonder, and think upon my words, Mavus-la. Three blessings to you.” 

In the silent hours before dawn when he liked to go out on the balcony to look at the fields in spring, he curled his legs up to his chest next to the still lightly crackling hearth. There was still time to make it spotless. He took a bite from one of the leftover tartlets, strangely warm but more bitter than usual. 

#tesfest23 #tes #the elder scrolls #morrowind #elder scrolls #mavus ules #he's the main focus but then there's nevena and a certain character from eso. you may know her from my url :) #not oc tag #scrawling tag

[groovynightsky]

Is this what anime eyes are supposed to look like?

I realised that I rarely put any details into the eyes I draw so I wanted to ✨experiment✨ a bit, I'm def not gonna do this often tho lmao

#art #digital art #my art #draw #ms paint #ms paint art #eye practice #eyes #blue eyes #purple eyes #red eyes #anime eyes #idk how to tag this #eye drawing #not oc tag #not oc related

[develop-your-villain]

Update for folks: I have uni assignments on my back ATM so I'll be posting every now and then when I get the chance. Aiming for at least once a week :)

In the meantime, what would guys like to see more of from me? Should I keep it the same with short questions/prompts or would you like more image prompts/longer stuff/drawing prompts, etc.?

You're all fab, and I hope you know I love reading your tags/reblogs! You all have awesome characters :D

#not oc tag #update

[bunwithhorns]

Happy Birthday Art for my friend @octavius-caprine !! :D

#bun arts #not oc tag #art for friend #birthday art #candy gore #candy guro #candy guts #tw gore #digital art #digital illustration #furry art

[ra3kiv]

sea, swallow me

#my art #art #digital art #original character #digital drawing #oc #original character art #ocean #sea #artwork #artists on tumblr #art tag #illustration

[nosongunsung11]

collection of posts for a very specific dynamic

#pallas post its #not sure how to tag this one ngl #zolu #this is about zolu #but also my ocs and me from real life #5927 #also. #web weaving #normal dynamics

[tag-that-oc]

shoutout to every fandom oc btw

youre SO right. fandom oc creators i love you!!

#brain-empty #not oc tag #moss answers

[beebfreeb]

An Interview with Dot.

#beebfreeb art tag #comic #ms paint #artists on tumblr #art #I slept for two hours and then couldn't fall back asleep so I made this. Thank you comic ideas in my phone notes for giving me things to do #my ocs #<- sorry I've been really into one-off robot OCs lately #an interview with dot #robot

[vsemily]

I laugh every single time

#mspaint #doodles #tag your ocs

[bunthebunarts]

Doodled a dokibird while watching her stream

My first time drawing her, i want to draw more of her in the future. She's my favorite vtuber and its a shame I didn't manage to create any art of her past life. So here's to the future, and I wish her the best to come :'))

#bun arts #doodles #digital art #not oc tag #sketchy stuff #digital render #dokibird #vtuber fanart #i gotta draw more.. i just gotta find the time

[ervona]

Day 4: Mortal / Sanctuary for @tes-summer-fest

The king was dead. He was not the first Nordic tyrant to burn, though he was one of the few living–or unliving–men to receive such a simplified Dunmeri funeral. His killer wasn’t quite living either, but one was ash scattered over the sea, and the other was just floating face-down among the ice floes; a twist on the usual Morndas. 

Fingers frozen around something of great value, hands buried in the pockets he’d sewn into his robe, he washed ashore like driftwood. He trawled for a place to crawl into before the fiendish court fluttered out in the guise of bats and carried him up, up and away. Back to the castle, where sneers had dissolved in their overflowing toasts to him. One who had crept out of their king’s shadow only for a moment necessary to assert himself for the first time. Why, he was a master of subterfuge, who’d had them all fooled. That and having taken it by force earned him the seat at the head of the blood-soaked table.

Thus he ran away.

Not straight away–he had some decorum left in him–but after the excessive celebration of new leadership that he was already set on shirking. He’d been unnoticeable for years and was fortunate he still had that in him too, for he could slink out of the hall and pack necessities for travel, which he checked three times. With that slung over his shoulder he snuck out quiet as a mouse, taking care not to look back, and made for one of the rowboats beached on the rocks.

In another story, the old king’s daughter and heir would have chased him far and wide beyond the water’s edge, torn him apart and marked her coronation with his entrails. Fortunately, she held her father in scorn moreso than anyone at that court had. A far better leader she would make. She had no love for him either, nor hate, nothing but the tepid exasperation any princess would feel towards her father’s sycophant.

He’d packed all he would ever need including enough blood potions to last him until he could attempt to brew his own, but most important of all a darksome gem now holding the soul of an ancient. Plucked from its master and thrown into the garden of a vengeful wife, its purpose lay in a ritual detailed in one of the dusty tomes that filled much of the boat. The castle faded from the horizon, leaving only the sea and a frightfully giddy vampire rowing southward.

Well, soon to be former vampire. “If I know anything at all, it’s how to strike up a deal. Isn’t that so, lord?” he called out to the sea-bird that had perched on him. Holding the oars down for but a moment, he palmed at his pocket, then the other one, then at each board of the accursed boat until bottles were cracking and papers were flying, landing on the surface of the water with unseen grace. At his back, the myriad lights of Jehanna’s dockside glimmered within reach. 

“Where is it? Where…” He tried to detect traces of magic, peeled off his robes, lifted each and every piece of trash that encircled him, cried and howled and shrieked in the manner that had spurred sailors in the night to spin tales of sea beasts beyond comprehension.

For all those plans he’d devised over many sleepless days, his great caper of souls, to swindle the Lord of Coldharbour with his own servant’s soul withheld, unable to reach its destination before another soul was freed. What was left, a fool on a piece of driftwood who ought to have been claimed by frostbite. Who couldn’t go back now, nay, nor forward nor back. But he enjoyed the idea of life far too much, and was the world not full of souls who deserved it less? 

“That’s it!” He leapt up, almost capsizing for the third or so time. Imagining himself at fulmost charm that only existed in his mind’s eye, by his soon to be outworn aptness for glamour he spake and made it truly so. “This life I shall reclaim in one way or another.”

Jehanna lay in a bay encircled by snowy mountains, in appearance not unlike cities to the east, colorful amidst the cold with sharp and steep roofs slicing the air. Its port enveloped the whole bay, by its secluded nature a sanctuary for all sorts of ne'er-do-wells. Nothing like him, though, the folk here would only bleed the valuables and trinkets alike out of one’s pockets.

Freshly glamoured, he stopped to admire the finest scion of Morrowind nobility for long enough that the seller of scavenged tableware yelled at him to buy or leave. Her arrogance would cost her a customer–not him, as he was rather low on coin anyway. Down by where larger vessels docked, a group of sailors were merrymaking like it was Saturalia. He understood them well enough, having been on the sea for but a day, and such a sordid day. 

“Tredayn?”

It was rare enough that someone called his name, and rarer that it wasn’t tinged with bloodthirst. He turned around, twice around in fact, until a tall, well-dressed mer appeared to be speeding towards him. Momentary confusion gave way to disbelief, some kind of joy. In that very moment, both of them recognized their mother’s features.

“Azura, Mephala, and Boethia… Mavus?”

“You got it on fourth guess,” he guffawed, one hand pressed to his forehead as if running a fever. Then his brow creased, and a needle-sharp unease came upon Tredayn. “I don’t know where to start, but I suggest we head to my ship if you value whatever’s in your pockets.”

Tredayn followed, admiring each decorated prow, wondering which one belonged to his brother–well, half–and whatever it is that he did these days, more hoary than he remembered. Piracy seemed to be in fashion, but he couldn’t imagine his brother, stickler for rules as he was, doing that. The ship Mavus presented with pride as if he’d hewn it with his own hands–and perhaps he had–bore a terribly dull dragon head that Tredayn had seen more times than the sun in recent years. 

“Lovely barge you have here. What do you do with it, still running supplies?”

“Oh, we’re pirates.” Mavus' thin mouth cracked into a smile just as thin, and far behind him dawn had started to break. “Joking, joking, you should have seen the look on your face!”

“I’ve not slept in so long, apologies... may I take a rest somewhere on board?” That gaze could cut the ropes on its own, but Mavus still showed him below deck. Captain’s quarters–his quarters!

For what they lacked in extravagance they made up for in comfort, which he supposed was the right way to go about things. Tredayn hadn't lied, he was too tired to think. But when he’d finished looking around the place, he spied a silver glint from the corner of his eye, and in a moment he was up on the ceiling, in the corner like a spider.

“What in the-” That was a silver blade, clear as day and utterly terrifying, moreso with how calm his brother’s face was.

“Tredayn, come down from there. I’m only checking.”

“Checking what? I hear you thinking now, surely I must have flinched at silver, rather than you pulling a knife at me!” He'd sharpened his own stake with that. Mavus shuffled through expressions, stunned.

“Well, if you hear me thinking, thank you for speaking in my stead.” 

Vampires could not simply read minds in and of itself, but as with many of the myths around them, a grain of truth lay in it. Had he actually possessed the ability, this could have gone much better.

“Figure of speech. What is this about?”

“You tell me, with the way you went up, I suppose you’re a trained acrobat.” At least he had put away the knife, though the suspicion was going to be a harder bargain, no thanks to his own conduct.

“I am an ordinary mortal, so springy for I was born in springtime.”

“Morning Star the fi-”

“Oh, now you recall my birthday!”

“Enough.” Mavus covered his face with his hands, one eye peeking out ever still. “Come down, I’m not trying to hurt my brother, no matter what you’ve gotten yourself into now.”

Tredayn dropped with a cracking sound that ought to have marked the end of him but just left him sitting down somewhat askew. He collected himself and dusted off the robes that had been through so much, only to be pulled into a tight hug. Mavus sniffed, and he surely hadn’t been down with a cold. His brother’s embrace was safe, or he so wanted it to be, parched for care and all that was good in life.

The last person he’d hugged had allowed so only by hubris, perhaps confused before going up in flames. His searing flesh and unearthly shrieks lingered in the back of Tredayn’s mind. At the time, a part of him had been ready to burn as well, and the fear finally struck him in retrospect. If only for a moment, he felt not the burning wrath of his kin, but their protection, and held on to that as firmly as he could. 

#tesfest23 #tes #the elder scrolls #skyrim #morrowind #tredayn dren #mavus ules #harkon and friends mentioned #not oc tag #i'm late sorry but minor npcs and my specific made up ideas for them yay #scrawling tag

[beebundt]

(non-sexual nudity) accumulated doodle page with charlie and her gf i never talk abt that she's so in love with. both she/her

#my art #art #illustration #drawing #artists on tumblr #digital art #my ocs #oc #ocs #original character #charlie raine quill #charlie #weaver #dont be weird in the tags and comments THANK YOU #nudity cw