#Oc: Chaos god

[floofyflooftheallmighty]

Hahaha I am reviving my old edgy oc Heather and making her even EDGIER HAHAHAHA

Heather started her humble beginning as a warrior cats character in Cats Life on roblox where she was inspired by an animated series on YouTube [I sadly wasn't able to find the series]. Most of her story came from Cats Life such as the possession and eventual love interest. One thing to note about her time in cats life is that she wasn't purely black before, instead she had one white paw and blue eyes. She was then transferred to wolves life where she turned completely black, changed eye colors to red, and gained wings. This is also when she got her signature purple emo hair. It's also where the design and name of her love interest was "created" based off another player in wolves life. From then on she went through many design and personality changes where I added more white to her design and attempted to make her "Less edgy"

And now she is starting to fully form and settle down into her own world and story...

[brilover3000]

Now that we have two Silvers, this is basically inevitable

Also, take a wild guess as to who started the fire

[figloom]

"Ughhh, I'm too pretty to be doing math Azul... You there, come here~✨️🦀"

The glamorous mascot of Mostro Lounge. What he lacks in brain, he makes up with with his looks (driving Azul insane in the process, however he can pay him in exposure so it's not that bad). He may not serve drinks but you best believe he'll serve cunt🦇

[sonicexelle-junkary]

I’ve noticed a pattern when it comes to creating antagonists. Specifically for Sonic.

[demaparbat-hp]

Thinking of how a birthday party on the ship with the 41st would look like 🧐?

This is why they never get anything done.

[weirdozjunkary]

What a freak he is. I’m totally not planning something with him.

[aznisure]

“whats with the robe?” “i find its easier to get people to accept what i am when im shaped like their idea of it, ive also grown fond of this form over the recent centuries”

or, the twins meet Death

[chairofchaos]

Always An Angel; Never A God

Pairing: Eris &* OC (Alastair) Summary: Eris grapples with his thoughts about a bargain made by his mother.Rating: Teen Word Count: 1.6k Tags & Warnings: Angst. Domestic violence and abuse are core topics in this work, because of the overshadowing presence of Beron Vanserra. A/N: See end of post for full author's note. *"&" indicates that it is a platonic pairing/set of characters.

He had seen the fight coming. Of course, he knew his favorite coat was his father’s least favorite. His words were not polished or poised enough for the oldest son of a high lord. It was not enough, never enough to please Beron. 

The scorch marks on his sleeve wouldn’t be fixed. It didn’t matter that his mother had bought him the coat for his birthday, or that his aunt had done her best to spell it to be resistant to flame.

Eris could not withstand his father, no matter how much others tried to protect him. 

The dinner had been fine. Acceptable, by all accounts. Eris had spoken to the mother of the girl, no more than a child, really, who sat across from him. His father had placed him there intentionally, not because the girl or her mother were important in any way, but to reinforce that he was not.

The girl’s father sat beside Eris’ and paid no attention to his wife or child. He flirted with Eris’ mother. He wouldn’t pay for that until Eris came to power, but he would, since it was Carmina Vanserra who would pay for it tonight.

The sound of clinking glass and a splash of liquid brought him back to the dim light of the sitting room. Eris gazed out the window, barely feeling the press of the glass in his hand, his friend’s silhouette blocking the faint light from the candles in the hallway. 

“Any injuries?”

Eris sipped the drink. “None visible.”

“It’s always that way, isn’t it? Game of chess?”

Eris shook his head. “No.”

Alastair sighed. “If you always mope, you’ll never feel better.”

“If I don’t mourn, don’t I become complicit?”

“If you are, what does that mean for the rest of us?”

The night was cool, and the moon was high, its sickle poised to raze the forest over which it hung. He could see himself in those trees, his laughter carrying on the breeze to where he stood in his mother’s stead, a frown rather than a smile on his face.

“Don’t we owe it to her?”

“Of course we do.”

“How do you set it aside so easily? She raised you, too, as much as your own family did,” Eris asked, turning to set his empty glass on the table between the armchairs where Alastair reclined, his glass in his hand. He gestured absently towards the fireplace in silent demand, then polished off his drink. Eris blinked, and the wood lit with a blaze, another destruction in which he would find himself complicit. One day, one day.

Alastair leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor. “She made that bargain of her own volition.”

“He’s getting stronger.”

“So are you.”

“It’s taking her with him.”

“That was the bargain.”

“I need to sleep.”

“If you try, will you?”

Eris bit his retort back. Alastair had seen him wander the halls in the middle of their childhood nights. On occasion, he’d joined him, the two of them in night clothes, their feet padding against the wooden floors to sneak out into the darkness and light the world ablaze with fire and rain storms, Eris’ flames shooting like lightning through Alastair’s clouds which shrouded them from view.

One such night had brought them here, the freedom of their powers having buried them in this living tomb, strangled by a choice neither of them would ever make and a promise they would never fulfill. The sickle moon, taunting him with each passing day.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” he had told his mother the last time she had come for tea. She waved a dismissive hand, ignoring the scars which the movement exposed on her arm. 

“It wasn’t your choice to make.”

“He hurts you, more now than ever before.”

“And he will not lay a hand on you.”

Eris hadn’t told her the damage had already been done, that the initial promise his father had made to her when he was a child had not been kept, and that Beron held it over his head for thirty years while he tortured others in Eris’ stead.

“So others must suffer?”

“Better them than you,” Carmina had said softly. When he met her gaze, her eyes were hard, their burnished gold lit with a fire Eris rarely saw lit anymore, another destruction to fuel his fire. He had said nothing, and after a moment, turned the talk to the weather.

Alastair cleared his throat. “I could use a real walk.”

“Alright.” Eris took the three steps forward to stand beside his friend. “Lead the way.”

Alastair snorted, turning his eyes up to Eris. “I think that’s your job now.”

Eris’ stomach turned. He was thankful his friend couldn’t see the despair which crossed his face at the sight of the clouds in the eyes which had been blue, a rarity among the Autumn Court nobility, the biggest sign that Alastair’s father had not been of this court. Eris made himself breathe a small laugh. “Let’s go.”

It had been ten years since Beron had performed the spell which removed Alastair’s sight and Alastair had been dumped on Eris’ doorstep, dried streaks of bloody tears on his cheeks where they had streamed down his face. The lack of color in his eyes since that night served as Eris’ reminder of all he owed to his childhood friend, and the darkness which awaited him for all he had allowed to happen.

“I warned you,” his mother had hissed as Eris dragged Alastair’s body inside. “I told you what he would do.”

“Mother, please help him,” Eris had begged. 

“I cannot save him,” Carmina’s hand pressed to her chest, “even if I had the power to.”

“Why?”

“The bargain.”

The bargain. Always the bargain, the tattoo which graced the space over his mother’s heart, which shielded her from feeling, from involvement. That flame burned his skin as much as it did hers.

So Eris had cared for Alastair. Until he couldn’t anymore.

“Promise me,” Alastair had asked him when he woke. “Promise me you’ll stay out of it, no matter what happens.” He wouldn’t relent, no matter how Eris deflected, how he avoided the promptings.

Now, they stepped out the door together, a warm coat draped around Alastair’s shoulders. The bite of cold pressed into Eris’ upper arm where the scorch marks were. ‘So it goes,’ he thought.

After fire came cold nothingness, the emptiness of wrath spent on the deserving and undeserving alike. He knew it all too well.

“What was it this time?” Alastair asked. Wisps of clouds danced across the ground around them, parting only as they walked through, a single line left behind them.

“The guest of honor flirted with her all night. She was tactful. Either way, he would have been displeased. She couldn’t offend the guest. She couldn’t flirt back, either. She was stuck.”

“He’s a bastard.”

“If only he were,” Eris mused. “Maybe then I could unseat him.”

“You’ll get your revenge one day.”

“It won’t be soon enough to save us.”

Alastair said nothing. Eris could hear the faint cracking of leaves beneath his feet. The call of an owl in the forest to his left reached his ears, and he sighed. What could it hurt, to join them in this forest every night? To know the call of the owl, and the scent of the trees, as if they were a part of him, and he a part of all of them, living under the threat of the blade above their heads?

“Remind me, what was the phrasing of the bargain?”

“It won’t help you to go over this again,” Alastair reminded him. They stepped onto the forest path, Alastair staying close beside Eris to follow where his friend stepped.

“I know. Indulge me.”

“‘Eris is to remain safe from you and anyone you control. You, and those you control, will not harm him. You may not make a deal which could result in harm to him. In return, I will give you my power, freely and without reserve, as your carranam, until the day of my natural death. I will not request your power in return. I will not act against your interests. If either of us breaks this bond, we will suffer immediate death.’”

Eris tried to focus on the words, but they were fuzzy. Spoken in his presence, but so many years ago that he could not find them in himself. Alastair reminded him, when he wished to hear them, but it never helped.

“There’s no way out,” Eris murmured. 

“For any of us,” Alastair remarked. His voice was flat. “It was your saving.”

“And your undoing.”

“I suppose.”

“I can’t even wish he was dead, because it means she goes, too.”

“Death isn’t so bad.” When Eris said nothing, Alastair went on. “It’s freeing.”

Eris focused on the crunch of the leaves beneath his feet, the path winding up the hill away from the stream. “And what of those left behind?”

“They survive, in their own ways.”

Eris emerged into a clearing. “Is it really surviving?”

The sickle moon emerged overhead, its light brighter here atop the hill, the darkness of the forest between him and his home striking a contrast against the gleam of a large white headstone in the center of the glade. Eris paused. It was undisturbed, the marbled pattern a reflection of the fog which surrounded it in the cool night.

“Am I surviving? I never wanted to do this without you, carranam.” Alastair gave no answer as Eris knelt beside his headstone, the penitent at an altar of grief. He placed the coat by the headstone. “For you. If it’s cold.”

Eris lay his head atop the coat and stared at the sky, the moon burning into his eyes until he hoped he, too, would go blind with death. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Alastair.”

The fog blew across his face, brushing against his cheek in the night as if, on the other side of the cloudy veil, someone wished him a good night, too.

A/N: A huge thank you to the mods @erisweekofficial for putting together this week! I'm so glad we all get to celebrate our autumn prince together, and incredibly thankful to be a part of my first Eris Week. Thank you to @tsunami-of-tears for all of the beautiful Eris Week dividers (you can find them here!). Last, but certainly not least, thank you to @dusk-muse and @ninthcircleofprythian for the super last minute beta read, brainstorming and coming up with titles with/for me, and for never actually attempting to kill me at the end of a fic. I hope you all enjoyed it! All my love, Chaos

Taglist: (if you ever want to hop on the taglist train, whether for a character, a pairing, or all of it, lmk! and if I fail to include you, I probably didn't see it or messed up some admin thing, so give me a holler in asks or another comment!) @dusk-muse @ninthcircleofprythian @lilah-asteria @c-starstuff-man0 @unanswered-stars

[zika-the-certified-idiot]

Finally! I think the canvas is done, now that it's all rearranged and stuff lol. So here's that -

Wait -

We have one thing we really want to say!

First off, glad you tumblr people seem to like us -

And second off,

That's right! Dupe and Grabsy are officially open to Asks!

So. Have at 'em if anyone's interested!

[limeinaltime]

Felt the urge to Pressure-fy my sona so oops here we are

I completely free-handed the Expendable outfit are you all proud of me

[meervalv0]

Based on a joke with @thisuserislilsilly

Chaos god custody matches would go great when it takes more than just the emperor to somehow keep this women alive.

[clock-onyx]

Imprisoned

"It's only a matter of time before you reach your breaking point."

FINALLY finished this, rugh 15 hours of work,,, i had to eventually get this out since its a major part of Vizion's story LEL, arghhh locked up in the castles basement while looking at your horns for a billion years aaahh!!!

Him losing his horns is my way of symbolising Vizion losing his status as royalty, being seen as nothing but a monster, its also somewhat symbolising his breaking point, scarring him for life

I imagined the place a LOT darker originally, Vizion's somewhat stuck in an eternal darkness, but while drawing I thought him being locked up under the god's castle, wheres theres thousands of chains keeping the castle in place would be cooler, so I plopped him there too, the magic / high radiation weakening him so he cant just break out THAT easily

Vizion was arounnnddd eehhhhhh 20 ~ 25 ish in human years when he was locked up, so his face wasnt formed out entirely, the whole loosing horns thing was so damaging to his body that he remained permanently in an unstable form (his head esspecially never fusing, rather remaining in a fragmented form)

The weird light is actually the light from a creaking door!!! I wonder whos looking at him hmmmmmmmmm

This was right after Marmura's death too, real gnarly stuff,,, being at the wrong place, wrong time can really change you up, huh?

DRAWING WITHOUT THE DOOR LIGHT V

ANYWAYS uhmmm uhmm hope you like this lalala

THIS DRAWING,,, alongside his story definetly was my wake up call to write my ideas down because im starting to loose track 😭😭😭 why must you be complicated!!! ARGHHH,,,

THIS ISNT MY PROUDEST WORK, definetly coulda done netter but whatever brah,,,

[magickittyocs]

Height difference friends

Beldam the Chaos God belongs to @weirdozjunkary

Glinda The Cat belongs to me

[creature-premium]

x/love slowly kills, Adrian Borda/ Renee ahdieh, the wrath and the dawn/x/The well, the crane wives/x/Against the kitchen floor, will wood/x/x/x

[ruckis-vandalizes]

"Everyday, it’s as if I feel the pain that they’re going through. Everyday, we start to see the world from their point of view. In his mind, all he thinks about is lust for my blood and yours. He will find a way to get to us, and then take his course.

We’ll take down the source."

DISCLAIMER: Kit is not a D&D character. She is a nonfandom but crossover friendly OC from my hubworld/passion project by the name of Order of the Stars! She's taken on the role of an otherworlder, or a "planeswalker" if you will.

end of an era nears ever closer. One of struggle, one of chaos left unchecked. Tragedy after tragedy, all but not limited to

Being stuck in a position of powerlessness for well over a year and a half. Taken advantage of in their moment of weakness by forces (at the time) bigger than them. Met with misfortune and failure at almost every turn. Mourning almost every waking moment and unable to process grief before the next tragedy struck. Forced to watch relive the worst moments of their past and watch helplessly as history repeats itself, despite trying so desperately to stop it. Left with the looming sense of dread as they try and remember billions of years worth of memories, thousands more worth of trauma, under a short deadline and all at once. Forced to watch as their friends are taken advantage of - watch as they die countless times, often as a result of lack of self preservation. Aggression and sorrow as a result of worry and grief perceived as self loathing, blamed for having an appropriate reaction to everything that was going on. Despite trying so desperately to restore their relationship, despite being mostly selfless, they were still the victim of double standards. A thankless job for the ungrateful. Blinded by love, unable to see greed. Until finally they took a step back.

and let go.

in a final gambit to prove their worth, reclaim control, and as a form of closure to themselves, they venture into the lion's den. To confront the very being that had been oppressing them. A cruel Elder God of Entertainment that was twisting fate to make their lives a horror show. Completely disregarding their rights as individuals. Not only did he take advantage of a primordial god borne to kill their kin while they were weakened, but he inadvertently tore apart their friendship with their former party.

just one last try. Just one last adventure.

If not to win, then at least get a few pot shots in and go home. Where they can finally rest. Where they can finally heal. Where they can fully let go.

Destroying the ground they stand on and raking their world for all its worth isn't even worth it anymore. It's not worth the effort. Besides, because of the exposure, for every person that hates them a thousand more will adore them. Let a select few demonize. It doesn't matter. Their audience has been found. THAT is enough reason to keep that world alive.

...and besides. They will outlive it anyway.

And they will smile when they do.

[weirdozjunkary]

Updated some designs for a few ocs of mine cause it’s been a hot minute since I’ve done that.