#i want to devour your oc lore

[joffyworld]

MUTTON OC POST I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS

Since I introduced him in the shearing post, I decided to make my first follower a little info card!

[luna-azzurra]

Hi Luna🙂

Today I came across your account by chance and literally devoured many of your posts. Your tips are worth their weight in gold and are making me rethink my character (my OC).

One thing I've noticed... I think his lore is well developed, but I'm not sure how he's supposed to achieve his goal anymore.

Er ist der Sohn eines der berüchtigtsten Schurken dieser Welt und möchte nicht im Schatten seines Vaters stehen. Er möchte seinen eigenen Weg gehen, aber kein „Held“ werden, denn das würde eine Verpflichtung bedeuten, die er nicht eingehen möchte.

His problem, however, is that he looks very similar to his father and has almost the same quirk (ability).

This leads to everyone seeing him only as their father and not as the person he really is.

My question now is: Would it be better for such a character to give up and simply become evil over time, or would some kind of “anti-hero” be better?

Hey (◍•ᴗ•◍)

First of all, thank you for the kind words, seriously, that means a lot. And second? Holy hell, I love this character setup. You’ve built a character with some incredible tension at his core. He’s not just trying to break out of a legacy, he’s trying to break out of his own reflection. He looks like his father. Has the same quirk. People see him and immediately slap the “villain” label on him before he even gets a word in.

That does something to a person.

When you’re constantly treated like you already are something, especially something dark, something dangerous...it’s not just annoying. It’s exhausting. It's isolating. Eventually, even the strongest-willed people start to ask, “Is there any point in fighting this?” And that’s what makes your question so powerful:

Should he give up and just become evil? Or should he try to become an anti-hero?

Let’s unpack both...

╰ Going Full Villain – “If I’m gonna be hated anyway…”

On the surface, this path makes sense. People already expect the worst. They project his father onto him every time he walks into a room. They don’t see him, but just the shadow he casts. So at some point, yeah, it might feel easier to stop trying to prove he’s not his dad and just… lean into it.

But that wouldn’t be surrender, that would be self-erasure. It’s not a choice rooted in desire or ideology, it’s rooted in burnout. Bitterness. A kind of emotional collapse.

You can absolutely write this path if you want to explore what it means to become the mask others forced onto you. There’s beauty in tragedy. There’s pain in watching someone slip into the very shape they swore they’d never take, just because no one gave them the chance to be more.

But… is that really what he wants? Or is it what he thinks is left?

╰ Becoming an Anti-Hero – “I’ll make my own damn category”

This, to me, is where his heart probably lives.

Because from what you described, he doesn’t want to be a villain. But he also doesn’t want to be a hero, like not in the clean, performative, cape-wearing sense. Heroism, to him, feels like a cage made of expectations. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s symbol. Doesn’t want to be a PR-friendly redemption arc. He just wants to be free—to exist outside the script written for him.

That’s anti-hero territory.

And the beautiful thing about anti-heroes is, that they fight for things they care about, not things they’re told to care about. They help people, but they break rules doing it. They’re messy, unpredictable, and wildly human.

Let your character become someone who carves out his own moral compass. Someone who helps the helpless but refuses to smile for the cameras. Someone who uses his father’s powers but twists them into something new. Something meaningful. Something his own.

And let him struggle with it. Let him wonder if he’s becoming what everyone feared, and then have a moment, one small, honest moment, where he chooses not to.

╰  One more thought, What if the real story isn’t about what side he chooses…but about who he becomes when no one’s looking?

Not villain. Not hero. Not symbol. Just… him.

A kid born in someone else’s shadow, learning, slowly, painfully, that he can make his own light, even if it flickers. Even if people don’t see it. Even if it scares them. And maybe that light doesn’t look heroic. Maybe it’s sharp-edged. Maybe it hurts people sometimes. But it’s his. And that is more powerful than anything he could be labeled.

You’re already thinking so deeply about this character, which tells me you care. And that’s how stories get written with soul. Don’t rush the answer. Let him show you who he is over time...

[mrpenguinpants]

City of the Dead [ Commissioned ]

— A new planet has brought not only the Express crew, but also the IPC to an unknown land. Although… why does everything feel so familiar?

Word Count: 7.1k

Warning: Mild Gore and slight spoilers for the Penacony quest

— Aventurine, Topaz, Caelus, Dan Heng + March 7th

Request: [ A platonic exploration fic set on an Earth-like planet, now overrun by alien plant life and the long-lost homeworld of a male reader. ] Reader is based on an OC, so there are a few extra details/lore, but no OC names or physical details are mentioned. This is still a reader fic. [Masterlist]

Thank you for commissioning me and trusting me with your OC again! Since this fic had a big overarching story line, I hope I did justice to the lore you built. It's always lovely to hear your ideas, and I hope you like it!

You adjusted your coat, standing amidst the ruins of a city long claimed by nature’s relentless advance. The skyline, once a towering symbol of progress, had crumbled into a graveyard of steel and stone—skyscrapers half-sunken, their shattered facades strangled by creeping vines. Jagged fractures split the roads where gnarled roots had forced their way through the pavement, twisting the streets into uneven, alien terrain. A sickly green hue bathed the landscape, casting restless shadows against skeletal buildings. Some still stood, leaning at precarious angles, their frames groaning beneath decay. Others had collapsed, buried beneath the suffocating grip of massive, unearthly tendrils. Between the cracks in the pavement, grotesque flowers unfurled—translucent petals curling as if gasping for breath, pulsing faintly with bioluminescent glow in eerie rhythm with the unseen force that had overtaken this world. The air was thick and humid, cloying with the scent of damp earth and rot, each breath laced with something metallic, almost unnatural. Above, the sky stretched like stagnant water, a murky green that blurred the horizon. The ground beneath your feet was unsteady—fractured asphalt overtaken by roots as thick as pillars, weaving through like the grasping fingers of a long-dead giant. What little remained of civilization was suffocating beneath an endless tide of overgrowth. Moss devoured street signs and windows, erasing the past beneath a blanket of green. Vines slithered through shattered vehicles and crumbling doorways, creeping ever forward as if the city itself was being slowly digested. You buried your hands deeper into your pockets, your gaze distant yet wary. This wasn’t just a city lost to time. It was something else—something still alive.

The Astral Express had been gliding smoothly along its tracks when an unexpected burst of spores wove into its wheels, clogging the intricate mechanisms with a thick, fibrous substance. Within moments, the train lurched violently, metal screeching in protest as control slipped from its grasp. The crew barely had time to react before gravity took hold, pulling them into an uncontrolled descent toward the surface of an overgrown, green planet. Through the windows, all they could see was an endless sprawl of twisting vines and towering canopies—a world swallowed whole by nature’s relentless grip. It was only through a combination of Welt's black hole manipulation and sheer luck that the Express sustained only a single damaged engine. Not a catastrophe, but given the dangers of this unknown planet, it was a risk they couldn't ignore. The crew had barely touched down before splitting into their respective groups—Sunday, Himeko, and Welt veered right, where the stench of rot hung thick in the air, while you, Dan Heng, Caelus, and March took the path of iron and concrete, the remnants of a city buried beneath creeping vegetation.

The planet was strange—incredibly strange—and everyone wanted off as soon as possible.

“So… this is... Earth? Is that what Mr. Yang called it?” March muttered, scanning the area with a frown. Her voice, usually upbeat, sounded subdued, the weight of the planet’s corruption settling heavily around you all. Even masks of beauty looked wrong on this world. Flowers bloomed in places they shouldn’t—on the sides of buildings, in the hollowed-out skulls of old statues, from cracks in the pavement where no light should have reached. But they weren’t normal flowers. Their petals were too thick, too waxy, their colors unnaturally vibrant, almost glowing. Some twisted toward the group as they walked, their centers yawning open like mouths.

Caelus reached out to touch one. Dan Heng stopped him with a look.

The further you all walked, the worse it became. The city had been swallowed, but not in the way of an abandoned ruin overtaken by nature. There was something deliberate about the way the plants had grown—like they weren’t reclaiming the world, but replacing it. Buildings had collapsed beneath the weight of writhing branches, their insides gutted by roots that had burrowed deep, sprouting out of windows like grotesque, reaching limbs.

And the trees.

Massive, towering things, their trunks so thick they seemed like natural pillars holding up the sky. Their bark was not wood, but something tougher, something that gleamed faintly even under the dim light. Leaves stretched out like blades, some drooping low enough to drag against the broken streets. Some trees bore fruit, swollen and bulbous, their surfaces shifting slightly—like something inside was pressing against the skin, trying to escape.

“Ugh, I don’t even want to know what that was,” March wrinkled her nose as she stepped over something unidentifiable—goopy, slimy, and reeking of damp earth. It clung to her boot for a moment before slopping back onto the ground with a wet squelch. Definitely not something she wanted anywhere near her shoes.

Dan Heng’s eyes flicked across the crumbling landscape, his hand hovering near his weapon. The faint rustle of distant vines and the occasional groan of shifting buildings were the only sounds cutting through the silence, "Let’s... watch where we step and keep moving. We don’t know what’s waiting for us.”

“Well, if anything does try to attack, I’ll have my arrows ready! Wild man-eating plants might not be scared of fire, but ice is just as nice!” March, ever the optimist, shot him a grin, even going so far as to snap her fingers into finger guns at her silly rhyme.

"I’m sure that’ll work… until it doesn’t. Then is that when we'll see your secret strength? Should we stab you too?" You shot her a sidelong glance, your expression half-lidded yet amused, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

"You could at least pretend to have a little faith in me! And don't you dare point anything dangerous at me or I'll tell Himeko and Mr. Yang when we get back!" She puffed out her cheeks, clearly unimpressed, but the spark of determination in her eyes remained unwavering. A faint breeze rustled through the overgrown world around you, carrying the distant creak of shifting metal and the low hum of unseen creatures stirring in the undergrowth.

The playful banter settled over the group like a fragile shield, offering a sliver of warmth against the oppressive weight. As you all made your way toward the heart of the city, the ground beneath you cracked with every step, brittle and unstable beneath layers of creeping decay. The once-bustling streets were now eerily vacant, long abandoned by whatever civilization once thrived here. Shimmering pools of dark, stagnant water collected in the fractures of the asphalt, their surfaces disturbingly still, reflecting the pale, sickly glow of the planet’s dying sun. Your thoughts drifted, your gaze wandering over the crumbling cityscape, a strange unease settling in the pit of your stomach.

Something's been tugging at the back of your mind ever since the Express landed. An odd sense of familiarity that you couldn't shake. Something in the back of your mind, deep within the recesses of your memory, whispered that you were once here in this place before. Certain buildings that were now rocks and rubble, you felt like you knew what they used to be.

A crumble of brick catches your eye. A flicker of...something behind your eyelids that tells you what those rubbles of rock used to be. The remnants of rusted metal poles jut out of the ground, and you have the odd feeling there should be a sign attached to them, but it’s gone—faded or swallowed up by time. The eerie familiarity of it all unsettles you.

"Hey, you okay?" March's voice cuts through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present.

You blink, realizing you’ve fallen a step behind the group. Shaking off the haze creeping into your mind, you turn to her with a casual smile, "Fine. Just thinking."

"About what?" Caelus asked, his voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of curiosity. His eyes, sharp and steady, met yours, unwavering and expectant. It felt like the weight of the moment hung between you, a silent invitation for something deeper. You hesitated, the heaviness of his question pressing against the gnawing unease that had been slowly building in the pit of your stomach since you first set foot on this planet. It was a feeling that had woven itself into the fabric of your thoughts, following you like a shadow, but only now did it feel like it was demanding to be acknowledged.

The air around you seemed thicker here, somehow, charged with an unshakable sense of déjà vu. You couldn’t explain it—not to him, not to yourself—but it was there, lingering in the corners of your mind, refusing to let go.

"About how this place feels... like I’ve been here before," you found yourself saying, your voice quieter than you intended, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You shifted slightly, fingers tightening around the fabric of your coat as if grounding yourself against the weight of the admission, "It’s... strange. I can't shake it. I don’t know if it’s the city, or something about the way the air feels—maybe the way everything's… familiar. But it’s like I’m walking through a memory, one that’s just out of reach, like it’s teasing me."

There’s a knot in your stomach, but you push it down, hoping it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. The walls stretching out before you feel familiar in a way that unsettles you—like an echo of something long buried, just out of reach. The skeletal remains of buildings tower overhead, their shapes warped by time and nature’s relentless encroachment. The cracked asphalt beneath your boots feels unnervingly like a path you’ve walked before, and the air hangs thick with a sense of forgotten history. But there’s no time for memories now. You were here to investigate, to uncover what had happened to this world, and, hopefully, to find a way off this god forsaken planet with everyone intact and no leaves in your hair. With every step you take through the overgrown streets, it feels as though you’re trespassing—an intruder in a forgotten past. The silence of the city presses in on you, the weight of time and wethering hanging in the air like a shroud. Even the plants that creep over the remains of the city seem to watch, alive in a way that feels unnatural, as if they remember something you don’t. The feeling of déjà vu only intensifies, but you force yourself to push it aside. There are more important things to focus on now.

“Not that I remember, it's probably nothing,” you finally say. And that’s the truth.

For now.

---

The group continued onward, moving deeper into the city. The air grew heavier with each passing minute, the oppressive silence broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves or the distant creak of dissolving structures. The planet’s death wasn’t sudden—it was slow, inevitable. The kind of collapse that started at the foundation, while the ones at the top kept pretending everything was fine. The buildings around them loomed like broken skeletons, their once-shining facades marred by rot and the slow creep of alien plant life. They passed through what looked like a former park, now a twisted mockery of its original purpose. The swings were long gone, replaced by vines that snaked around rusted metal frames. The trees were warped, their branches gnarled and twisted like skeletal fingers. In the center of the park stood a statue—a figure that was now nearly unrecognizable, its features blurred and eaten away by the creeping vegetation.

Your eyes lingered on the statue. Something about it made your chest tighten. Your breath hitched in your throat as an emotion you couldn’t place swirled within. Memories, fragmented and blurred, flashed through your mind like ghosts, flickering just beyond your reach. The statue… it felt important. But what?

“Hey! If you're going to enjoy the sights at least say something! I don't want to play hide-and-seek here!” March called, her voice muffled in your daze. You barely noticed when the others stopped walking. Your mind was still clouded with half-formed memories—images and feelings that had no anchor.

You blinked, breaking out of the trance, your gaze shifting to her, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

But you didn’t feel like moving forward. It was as though a part of you had already been left behind in this forsaken place—lost to the decay, trapped in the remnants of what once was. The feeling gnawed at you, a weight you couldn’t shake.

Ahead, a crooked billboard stood precariously against a half-sunken building, its frame leaning as if it, too, had grown tired of the world's festering. The paint was cracked and peeling, yet the image beneath was still visible. A smiling diplomat shook hands with another man. Behind them, a gleaming utopian city stretched into the distance, untouched by the ruin that now claimed the land. Bold letters sprawled across the top of the billboard, their meaning lost to time but their message still clear:

“A NEW DAWN! RESOURCES SECURED—A PROSPEROUS FUTURE FOR ALL!”

March scoffed, looking behind the billboard at the wreckage left behind, “Yeah. Real prosperous.”

Dan Heng knelt, carefully brushing debris off a stack of old newspapers half-buried beneath the rubble. The pages crumbled at his touch, but a few headlines remained faintly legible, hinting at the world that had once thrived here.

“Rationing Measures Extended—Citizens Urged to Conserve.” “Power Grid Failing in Outer Districts—Authorities Working on a Solution.” “Protests Continue as Resource Shipments Prioritized for High Council.”

His brow furrowed as he flipped to another page, this one featuring a portrait of a well-dressed man raising a glass of golden wine at a lavish banquet. The caption, though worn, was still clear:

“Unity Through Strength—Leadership Brings Stability in Times of Crisis.”

The juxtaposition of opulence and the desperate headlines made the wasteland around you feel all the more depressing. The lavish images of wealth, now faded and peeling, contrasted violently with what the planet looked like now. It felt like the city's fate had been sealed the moment those in power had ignored the rot beneath the surface, the cracks in their perfect illusion.

“So they were starving while the elite were throwing feasts," Dan Heng’s grip on the crumbling paper tightened, his eyes scanning the headlines with an unreadable expression. A sickening twist churned in your stomach, the anger rising like bile. The bitterness, the frustration—they gnawed at you like something deeply ingrained. It wasn’t just the words on the page—it was something inside you, a distant memory, a forgotten anger.

March kicked a rusted metal canister, sending it rattling across the cracked pavement, breaking the silence, “How do you even do that? How do you watch people starve while you drink yourself stupid?”

“It’s easy,” you muttered before you could stop yourself, your voice rough with something you didn’t want to acknowledge. The others turned to you, but you weren’t looking at them. Your eyes were fixed on the billboard, fingers twitching slightly.

“They tell themselves they deserve it,” you continue, voice distant, the words slipping from your mouth before you fully process them, “That the people below them wouldn’t know how to handle luxury anyway. That if they didn’t take it, someone else would. So why not them?”

A heavy silence follows. The old billboards tower above you, their peeling paint and faded slogans promising a bright future that never came. Smiling officials shake hands with something not quite human, their pristine suits stark against the grimy, ruined city below.

If it wasn't for them...

“Hah. Sounds familiar.” A new voice slices through the tension, casual but tinged with sharp amusement.Your group tenses immediately, instincts kicking in as you shift into a defensive stance. You turn, eyes narrowing, and find old but familiar faces standing there. Topaz, a young woman with blue eyes and short, silver-white hair with a visible red streak. To her side, Aventurine, a young man with medium length, sandy-blond hair, along with magenta and cyan eyes with black slitted pupils. She’s leaning casually against the wreckage of a fallen building, arms crossed, a faint glow radiating from her Warp Trotter, which peeks out from behind her leg. Aventurine is beside her, his usual smirk plastered across his face. It’s impossible to tell if he’s actually impressed or just entertained by the situation unfolding before him.

It’s been a while since you've seen the two IPC members, the last time being on Penacony. Although these two were in Caelus's company more than yours, the memory of that encounter is still fresh, though time and distance have dulled its edge. Back then, Topaz had been all business, her sharp eyes calculating and unfazed by the chaos around her. Aventurine, on the other hand, had been his usual self—teasing, grinning, always with an air of detachment that made it hard to know where his loyalties truly lay. You study them now, the familiar mix of wariness and curiosity rising in you. Topaz’s usual neutral expression is less guarded than before, but there’s still an underlying strain in her stance. Aventurine, ever the wildcard, doesn’t seem to have changed at all. His smirk is just as sharp as the last time you saw him, but his eyes... there's something different there now, something more focused.

“You’ve been following us,” Dan Heng states, his tone carefully neutral, yet the edge in his voice hints at suspicion. His sharp gaze settles on both of them, as if weighing their every move, calculating their intentions. Topaz shrugs in response, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

“More like we happened to be heading the same way,” she replies, her voice nonchalant, but there’s an undeniable tension in the way she speaks—like she’s measuring every word. "Can't say we’re surprised to find you staring at propaganda." Her eyes briefly flick over the crumbling billboard again, before returning to meet your group's gaze. "Makes you wonder how much of it the people actually believed... before everything fell apart."

The words are casual, but they carry an undercurrent of something darker. The ruinous state of the city around you serves as a grim reminder of the lies that once held this place together. The images of opulence and hope now seem laughable, but Topaz doesn't seem to share that same amusement. She watches you all, her eyes sharper than they first appeared, flicking back to the deteriorating cityscape. Aventurine chuckles, a low, almost amused sound that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He adjusts his gloves slowly, methodically, as if savoring the moment. The quiet, deliberate movements contrast with the way he dismisses everything around him, as if there's something ironically funny about the situation.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?” Aventurine muses, his voice smooth and easy, almost like he's repeating a tired fact. “They didn’t have a choice in the end.”

His words hang in the air, dense and suffocating, as if they carry the weight of a thousand untold stories. It’s the kind of truth someone who’s seen the worst of the world would accept with a resigned shrug—someone who knows the rules of the game too well to question them. The quiet smirk on his face doesn’t reach his eyes; instead, there's a cold, almost clinical detachment, like he's watching a movie he's already seen too many times to care about the plot.

Then, his gaze flicks toward you, his eyes sharp and unsettling in their intensity. There's a flicker of something hidden beneath the surface—something observant, as if he's studying every twitch of your expression. His stare lingers a moment too long, like he's cataloging your reactions in a way that makes you feel exposed.

“But you already knew that.”

The words are smooth, but they hit you like a sudden chill. His voice carries weight, layered with implications. It’s not a question, but a statement, as though he's unraveling something deep inside you—something you didn’t want to admit, even to yourself. His tone is casual, yet sharp, like a blade hidden beneath a friendly smile. You shift uncomfortably, caught between the unease of his piercing gaze and the unsettling familiarity of everything around you—the billboards, the faces, the hollow promises. Something about this place, this moment, feels far too close to a past you can’t quite remember. It lingers just beyond reach, like a dream you can’t wake up from. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and suddenly, it feels thicker. There's something in what he’s said—a truth you've been running from—and the more you try to push it away, the more it creeps into your thoughts. The hopelessness of it all—the people with no choice, the promises reduced to smoke and mirrors—is too familiar, too raw. The silence stretches, each second dragging as you try to shake off the uncomfortable weight of Aventurine’s gaze. His words echo in your mind like an unwanted refrain, but you can’t quite grasp them. The tension in the air is thick, oppressive, as if everything—this world, your purpose here, even the people around you—has been drawn into some long-forgotten web you're only now starting to understand.

"Well, that's a lovely way to look at things," March pipes up, her voice sharp, attempting to cut through the awkwardness, "Not like we needed any more reminders of how messed up this place is."

“I’m just stating the facts,” he replies, unphased. His eyes flicker over to you again, and for a brief moment, you feel like he’s looking straight through you, as if he’s peeled back your layers and found something raw and exposed beneath, “I don’t expect you to like it.”

You want to snap back, to say something—anything—to push back against the unease gnawing at your stomach, but the words feel stuck in your throat. Instead, you focus on the surroundings, trying to ground yourself in the decaying reality of the world around you. The faint smell of rust, earth, and decay fills your senses, grounding you in the moment.

“We’re not here to dwell on what’s already happened,” Dan Heng, ever the pragmatist, breaks the silence again, his voice calm but firm. His gaze shifted to the horizon where the crumbling city meets the sky, "The Express had an...accident so we're temporarily stranded. I don't know what the IPC wants with this planet, but the Express has no intention of interfering as long as we can safely get off this planet."

His words are a reminder of why you’re all here—why you’ve pushed forward into this forsaken place. But even as he speaks, you can’t shake the feeling that everything is already too far gone. There’s something about this world, this situation, that feels like it’s already spiraling out of control. And no matter how hard you try to ignore it, a small voice in the back of your mind keeps whispering that maybe—just maybe—this place won't let you leave. Not anymore.

Aventurine’s smirk fades slightly as he gives Dan Heng a brief, almost imperceptible nod. “Fair enough,” he says, his tone shifting to something lighter. “But hey, let’s join together. Not as IPC members, but as fellow strandees! The more the merrier, right? In a place like this, it’s good to have a few friends, don’t you think?”

His words ring with a strange mix of sincerity and calculated nonchalance. The way he says it makes you wonder whether he truly means it, or if it's just another tactic, another way to test you, to see how far he can push. The playful edge to his voice doesn’t quite match the coldness in his eyes, but it’s a thin layer over the deeper, more guarded thoughts beneath.

"A few friends? With you? Didn't you almost kill us back on Penacony?" March raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. Her tone carries a hint of sarcasm, "That’s a bit of an optimistic take, don’t you think?"

"Optimism’s all relative. Call it what you want, but there’s no harm in making allies, especially when the odds are stacked against us," Aventurine shrugs, unfazed. His gaze flicks over the group, lingering for a moment longer on you, before he continues, “And besides, with this kind of mess, it’s better to have a few people watching your back, right?”

A quiet weight settles between the group, unspoken thoughts flickering between you all like a silent conversation. You glance at March, her furrowed brow mirroring your own hesitation. The words left unsaid hang heavily in the air as you exchange a glance—both of you wondering if you can trust what’s being offered. The unspoken doubt is shared between the two of you, but there’s something in the way your eyes linger on Aventurine and Topaz that deepens the uncertainty. Their motives are unclear, their calm demeanor too composed for this wreckage of a planet. Dan Heng stands off to the side, his expression unreadable as he studies the two IPC members. You can almost see the wheels turning in his mind, evaluating, analyzing, weighing the risks. His posture is tense, but it’s a quiet tension—one born from caution rather than suspicion. Then, Caelus shifts his gaze toward you, his eyes meeting yours. The intensity of his stare says more than any words could. He doesn’t hesitate. A firm nod, decisive and unyielding, seals his choice. His conviction cuts through the silent exchange, his approval of the alliance clear. There’s no room for doubt in his mind, no second-guessing. He’s made up his mind. March catches the movement out of the corner of her eye, a skeptical shake of her head following shortly after. She turns to you, her uncertainty mirrored in your own expression. She doesn’t speak, but the disappointment in her subtle gesture is enough. You shake your head, not in refusal, but in hesitation—still unsure if this is the right path. And yet, despite the doubts lingering between you and March, Caelus stands firm, an unwavering resolve settling in his stance. His decision is made, and in that single moment, the silence is louder than any argument.

“You don’t need to accept, and it’s obvious we aren’t friends,” Topaz glances over her shoulder, her expression flat and unreadable, “But you’ve seen this planet. We’re all stuck in the same mess. Our mission? Not your concern. Just like the Express is none of our business.”

She pauses for a beat, her eyes scanning the four of you, “It would just be safer for all of us if we stuck together.”

With that, she turns and starts walking again, boots scraping against the cracked pavement as she leads the way deeper into the city. Aventurine follows, his smirk never wavering, while March stays beside you, her gaze flicking between you and the others, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. The tension doesn’t ease, but it shifts. Now, there’s a shared resolve among the group. Everyone knows that despite the heavy weight of the past, the present is what matters. You have to push forward, no matter how heavy the past may feel, because if you don’t, there might be nothing left to fight for. Still, as you walk, your mind races, trying to make sense of everything. What’s your connection to this place? Why does it feel so familiar? And most of all, why does Aventurine’s cold, knowing gaze seem to hold so many answers you’re too afraid to ask? The path ahead remains unclear, but you press on, unable to shake the feeling that the answers you're seeking might be far closer than you think.

---

It wasn’t until you all reached an old, overgrown shopping district that things began to take a darker turn. The decay of the place was suffocating. Store windows were shattered, their jagged edges reflecting the dim light. Signs hung loosely, barely legible beneath the layers of plant matter that had overtaken everything, and the air smelled of rot and mildew. Inside, the shelves were barren, save for strange, dark fruit that clung to the walls—pulsing like something alive, unnatural.

You stepped inside one of the stores, your footsteps hesitant as they echoed through the hollowed-out interior. The dust of neglect hung in the air, mixing with the overwhelming scent of earth and decay. Your eyes scanned the abandoned aisles, the emptiness unsettling, as though even the air had surrendered to the slow grip of nature's reclamation. Only then did something small catch your eye—a toy, discarded in a forgotten corner. It was a simple thing—nothing more than a small wooden soldier. Its once-bright paint had long since chipped away, leaving behind a faded, almost ghostly figure. It should have been inconspicuous, but it wasn’t. Seeing it sent a ripple of unease through you, a quiet pang deep in your chest. Your heartbeat quickened, thudding in your ears. You reached for it, fingers trembling as you picked it up, studying the worn details.

A sudden flash hit you—one that wasn’t yours. It was from a time long buried, but it felt so close, like it happened yesterday. You were a child, sitting on the floor of your room. Small hands wrapped around that very toy, clinging to it for comfort. There was a warmth, a softness in the air—a voice calling to you, gentle and loving. Your mother’s voice. You could hear the faint melody of it, the sound tugging at the edges of your mind, but the words were slipping away from you, dissolving like mist. You tried to grasp onto them, but they fluttered just beyond your reach, fading before you could make sense of them. And then, an image—of a woman, standing before you. She was familiar, more than anyone you could recall, yet her face was a blur, indistinct and distorted by time, by the fog of your memories. You knew instinctively it was her—your mother. But no matter how hard you strained, no matter how much you willed the details into focus, she remained just out of reach, shrouded in shadow, like a forgotten dream.

For a moment, everything around you seemed to freeze. The pulse of the fruit on the walls, the rustling of wind through the leaves outside—it all faded into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your own heart. The toy felt heavier in your hands now, the weight of something lost pressing down on you. You clenched your jaw, forcing the image to dissipate, but the hollow feeling in your chest remained.

"You've been spacing out a lot," Aventurine remarked, his tone light but laced with curiosity. His gaze lingered on you, his dark eyes sharp with that familiar, unsettling focus, "Something on your mind, or are you just that mesmerized by the decor?"

You blinked, suddenly aware of the toy clenched in your hand. You hadn't even realized you'd picked it up, your fingers wrapped around it instinctively. The toy, a small wooden soldier with chipped paint and faded features, felt oddly heavy, as though it carried the weight of something far more significant than its size. It was too familiar—like a part of you you didn’t want to remember. A pang of discomfort twisted in your chest, but before the feeling could settle, you let it slip from your fingers. The plastic hit the ground with a dull thud that seemed louder than it should have been, echoing in the hollow space of the store.

"Just thinking," you said quickly, your voice a little too sharp, forcing a casual tone to mask the unease that had wormed its way deep into your bones. You wiped your palms against your pants, the motion far too quick, almost frantic, as if trying to physically rid yourself of the discomfort creeping up your spine. The air around you felt heavier, thick with unspoken words and lingering thoughts, as if the ground beneath your feet was somehow more uncertain than it had been moments before. You tried to push it away, to convince yourself that nothing was wrong—but it was hard to ignore the gnawing feeling in your gut.

"Nothing important," you added, though the words sounded hollow, even to your own ears. Aventurine didn’t buy it. You could feel his eyes on you, sharp and unwavering, like a hawk studying its prey. Something was unsettling about the way he looked at you, as if he was seeing more than you wanted to reveal. He leaned just slightly forward, his posture too casual for the weight of the moment, yet it only made the tension grow. He hummed, a low sound that lingered between you, a curious note that vibrated through the thick silence. It was almost... knowing. He didn’t speak immediately, his gaze still tracing you as if he were piecing together a puzzle, carefully fitting the scattered pieces one by one, until the whole picture formed in his mind.

“You really don’t know… do you?” His voice was softer now, but still edged with something sharper beneath the surface, something you couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t accusation, exactly. It was more like a quiet observation—a realization dawning. A flicker of something dangerous danced in his eyes as his lips curled into the faintest, almost imperceptible smile, “Perhaps that’s for the best."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning, and the weight of them pressed down on your chest. You couldn’t quite shake the feeling that whatever he was implying wasn’t just a casual remark—it was something deeper, something that cut straight to the heart of things you weren’t ready to confront. You stood there, frozen for a moment, uncertain of whether to respond or simply let the silence stretch on, letting Aventurine's gaze speak the truth that seemed just beyond your reach.

You barely registered his words. The air had shifted—cold, unnatural. A presence pressed in from the edges of your vision, the feeling of unseen eyes watching, waiting.

Then, a sound. Low. Guttural. The kind that vibrated in your bones.

The ground beneath you trembled.

---

“What… is that?”

The others followed Caelus's gaze, their steps faltering as they took in the grotesque scene. At first, it just appeared to be another cluster of thick, twisting roots clinging to the side of a crumbling building—gnarled, pulsating faintly beneath a slick sheen of moisture, as if the plant life itself were alive. But as they stepped closer, something twisted in the shadows of the roots, something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Shapes began to emerge, indistinct at first, but unmistakable once they came into full view.

A body.

Or what was left of one.

It had been consumed by the plant life—no, absorbed—its limbs twisted unnaturally, bound by thick tendrils that burrowed into the skin like parasitic feeders, feeding on its very essence. The flesh had taken on a sickly greenish hue, blending into the plant matter like it was part of the same grotesque organism. Where the person’s eyes should have been, there were only empty, gaping sockets, hollow and untouched by life. The skin around them had withered away, leaving raw, exposed tissue where roots had burrowed deep into the body. The corpse didn’t bear any marks of a struggle—no blood, no sign of defiance. It was as though this person hadn’t fought at all, but had simply allowed themselves to be consumed, swallowed whole by the unforgiving green tendrils. The plant life had claimed them, leaving nothing behind but a husk of what once was human. There was no dignity in the way they’d been absorbed—only cold, indifferent assimilation into a force far larger than themselves.

March stumbled back a step, her hand flying to cover her mouth, a choked gasp escaping her throat, “That’s—”

Dan Heng was already at her side, his gaze sharp, his usual calm demeanor slipping into something more ominous as his eyes swept over the scene. His jaw tightened. There was something colder in his expression now, a recognition that didn’t come from the body itself, but from the process that had claimed it.

He was silent for a moment, eyes narrowed as if trying to piece together the grim truth, before his voice cut through the stillness, low and even, “The plants. They don’t just grow—they consume. It’s like they’ve learned to feed on living things.”

There was no need to elaborate. The implication was clear. This wasn’t just a death caused by mindless growth; it was deliberate. The plants had taken this person, drained them, and now, their body was part of something far darker and more insidious than they could have ever imagined. The realization hit like a blow, and it seemed to settle over the group, chilling the air around them.

March shook her head in disbelief, her hand still pressed against her mouth, as if trying to keep the fear from spilling out, “We need to move. Now.”

Then, the ground trembled.

A deep, wet groan reverberated through the ruined city, a sound so low and unsettling that it seemed to come from the very earth itself. The trees, their trunks warped and gnarled by the ever-expanding plant life, swayed as if something enormous was stirring beneath them, something ancient and powerful. The vines, thick and pulsating, trembled in response, a shudder rippling through the roots and branches like a collective exhale.

And then, from the darkness that had swallowed the heart of the city, something stirred.

Something monstrous.

A low, guttural groan reverberated through the crumbling earth, a sound like the dying breath of an ancient beast. The ground shuddered, cracked open in jagged, uneven lines, and something immense stirred beneath the surface. Roots, thick and gnarled, began to push through the fissures, like the twisted fingers of a long-forgotten god reaching for the light of the world. Each root was coated in a slick, blackened substance, a molten resin that hissed and sizzled as it met the air, releasing a sulfurous stench. From the depths of the earth, a tremendous force erupted. The ground buckled as a colossal figure rose from the cracks, its form shifting and writhing, impossibly large and grotesque. It resembled a tree, but one corrupted by time, fire, and dark magic. The trunk was thick and hollowed, veins of molten gold and crimson running through it like veins of a living creature. Massive, twisted branches reached out from its broken core, each one stretching toward the sky with claw-like fingers that seemed to tremble with a malevolent hunger.

The creature’s head was a twisted, hollow void at the center of the tree, its shape a grotesque parody of a face. Hollow sockets where eyes should have been flickered with unnatural fire, an eerie glow that sent shadows sprawling across the earth. Its bark-like skin cracked open with each movement, revealing glimpses of something far worse within—an ever-shifting, nightmarish mass of fire and corruption, pulsing and throbbing as though the creature itself were alive with rage and agony. The air around it was thick with the scent of burning flesh and scorched earth. The ground trembled again, and from the creature’s open mouth—if it could even be called a mouth—a torrent of roots and tendrils shot forth, thrashing violently, searching for anything to latch onto, to consume. It moved like a slow, grinding force, each step leaving the earth scarred, the soil crumbling beneath the weight of its twisted existence. The creature let out a screech, a horrible sound like the tearing of wood and the crackling of flames, and with it, the world seemed to bend and warp in response to its emergence. Its branches swayed with unnatural grace, but its presence felt like the world itself was being torn apart by its very existence.

But beneath it all, something more familiar, something deeply wrong. Another human form, or what had once been human, distorted and bloated by the suffocating growth of plant matter. A grotesque parody of motherhood. Her limbs were elongated and twisted, fingers curled into gnarled claws as if reaching out, not for protection but to claim. Her chest was grotesquely swollen, bulging with strange growths that seemed to birth and reabsorb horrors in an endless cycle, each twist of the flesh forming grotesque shapes that dissolved into the next.

Her face, if you could call it that, was obscured by layers of rotting flesh and vine-like tendrils that had twisted their way around it. But through the mess of corrupted growth, you could still see remnants of what had once been a human expression—frozen in an eternal grimace of agony, her mouth caught in a silent scream that never reached the world around her. Her hollow eyes, if they could be called eyes, were wide and vacant, yet filled with an indescribable pain that seemed to claw at the edges of your mind.

The sight was so unnatural, so impossible, that it seemed to twist the very fabric of reality. A twisted fusion of human and plant, struggling to exist in a world where it no longer belonged. And yet, despite the horror of it, there was something deeply, disturbingly maternal about the form—an endless cycle of creation and destruction, a reflection of nature’s will to consume and rebirth, no matter the cost.

The air thickened with the stench of rot and decay, the smell of something that had gone wrong, that had festered too long without intervention. The group stood frozen, eyes wide, the weight of the monstrous figure pressing down on them like an unbearable force. Each breath seemed heavier than the last, as if the very atmosphere itself were being consumed by the monstrous growth that loomed before them.

No one moved.

Then, as if in response to their stillness, the mass gave a low, rumbling growl, reverberating through the ground and into their bones. The vines tightened, the roots shifting in place as the creature’s limbs twitched, and for a moment, everything was still.

But it was only for a moment.

The creature moved again—slowly, inexorably—its form shifting as if to rise from the depths of the city, breaking through layers of cracked concrete and decaying remnants. Each movement of its body was a grotesque reminder of how deeply this place had been consumed, how completely the city had fallen under the influence of the twisted, corrupting plant life.

Your heart stopped.

The whispers in his mind became screams.

My child...I've found you..

My child...I've found you..

My child...I've found you..

Without thinking, you drew your weapon, your hand trembling only slightly as you steadied your grip. Your memories were starting to break through the fog, but they were still too fractured to make sense of. And yet, your gut told you something the others didn’t know—that the creature before you wasn’t just any corrupted plant.

It was something else. Someone else.

[h0neybane]

"i am hungry. i have been hungry. i was born hungry. what do i need?"

Morwenna Veil Lore UTC.

CW: cannibalism, child death, violence. seriously if u dont wanna read it its ok this is DARK

'You want your mother, you think. You don't think the words, for you've just been born and have not learned any, but you can feel that you want your mother. The cold bites at you like a parasite. You want to burrow deeper into your shell. But you reach outwards, tentacles uncharacteristically slow for a mer of your kind. You're hungry, ravenous.

Your teeth tear into more flesh. It's raw, warm. This would've been your sister— no, it is your sister. You're eating your sister, and she's warm against the cold of the sea. You're glad most of her upper half is already gone.

You want your mother. Yₒᵤ wₐₙₜ yₒᵤᵣ ₘₒₜₕₑᵣ.

Ỹ̸͉͇̙̑̔̉͋̋̆̒o̷͇̤̙̤̓̌̈́̚u̷̖̫̘̤̥͗̀͝͝ ̸̡͈̜̅̍̈̓̓̇̒͝w̴͔̘̼̣͙̝̗̌͊̽͆͛͗͜a̸̩̭̗̭̻̪̦̹̟͖̾̒̌ǹ̶̨͇̖̫͙̈́̀t̸̺̩̞̥̮̹͈̩̽̅͜͝͝ ̵̜͈̉̍͠y̷̥̟̝̣̣̺̌͜ỏ̷̟͍̞̥̞̟̖̪̌́͐̂u̶̜̩̺̬̲͕̜͆̒̋ͅr̸̨̺͙̠̟̱̤̗̰̲̆̈́̊͆̈́͘ ̷̨̻̪͉͍͖̖͋̂̅͜ḿ̶̯̹̲͓͓̺͕̐̏ỏ̴̮͈̳̙̹̦̻̱̘̞̿͝t̴̨̯̠̥͍̓͌́͗̂͒̌̇͜h̵̛̙̤̙̑̇̇̌̄̕e̶̯̬̦̺̦͉̩͎̾̐̏͆̈̽̅͑ŗ̴̧͙͚̋̎̋̓̚.̵̡̫͉̻̠̺͖̺̹̌͑͊̀̐͒̚'

uhhh hey...... YAYYY FIRST OC LORE DROP!!! here's a summary of the first part of her actual backstory so you can understand more!

Morwenna is a Humboldt Squid Mermaid, and was born like one too. Humboldt squid will lay gelatinous egg masses that are almost entirely transparent and float freely in the water column. These egg masses usually contain at least a million eggs, having humboldt squid take the crown as the cephalopod with the highest amount of eggs laid at once. For the sake of believability, as one million mermaid eggs sounds ridiculous, we are going to reduce this amount to one thousand eggs. Assuming that a large amount of these eggs will be eaten or destroyed and not make it back to their mother, this feels reasonable.

In the darkness of the deep sea, Morwenna and her sisters and brothers laid silent in their egg mass. Usually, the egg masses would be left to their devices, and the baby mers would find their way back to their mothers on their own. However, Morwenna’s mother is on the more sentimental side, and she would frequently come to check on the eggs. The eggs began to hatch a few days earlier than planned, maybe around an hour before Morwenna’s mother arrived. Morwenna slowly emerged from the membrane into dark, cold waters. 

A sperm whale found the egg mass. It devoured a majority of the eggs and babies before leaving to find and attack the adults of Morwenna’s family. In the midst of the chaos and the blood in the water, Morwenna pulled the half-eaten corpse of her sister sticking out of one of the eggs and hid inside, cold, dark and alone. Morwenna and her siblings spent three days and three nights alone. They ate the remains of their dead siblings to survive. By the time Morwenna’s mother made it back to them, there were three (including Morwenna) babies left. 

This incident has deeply affected Morwenna in the coming years. Although the birth of a mer isn't usually tender, Morwenna’s experience is exceptionally cruel even compared to the average. In the coming years, Morwenna has developed claustrophobia and a fear of sperm whales.

taglist (ask to be added!): @taruruchi @honeyedpearcrushh @teighveepao @boopshoops @scint1llat3

@h2llish @viperbunnies @buttholesparkles @oya-oya-okay @cheerleaderman

@qsoap + @beneathsakurashade since i know you love morwenna

[doomwitctheories]

Pefect Love VN: OC x Canon dynamics

OC Name: Arale (she/her)

Characters belong to @perfectlovevn

OC lore under the cut. (Came up with the story after consuming Tumblr posts like potato chips. Might delete this later.)

Eris despised Arale. After all, she had ruined everything.

Eris had carefully planned her encounter with Milo, but out of nowhere, Arale appeared and completely derailed her script.

That day, Milo and Arale became best friends, forcing Eris to rethink her entire strategy to win him over.

Her first attempt was to eliminate Arale, but it didn't take long for her to realize that Arale was far too strong, dodging all her efforts without breaking a sweat.

Next, Eris tried to dig into Arale's past, hoping to unearth some dark secret that would tarnish her reputation. She found nothing. Arale wore her heart on her sleeve and confronted gossip or false accusations straight ahead.

Then, Eris tried to incite jealousy among those close to Arale, hoping to turn them against her. But it failed, for Arale always made sure to take care of the people around her, even if strangers.

She seemed to adapt to every situation, shifting slightly to fit in wherever she went. Eris tried to expose her as a fake, a mere people pleaser. But even that tactic fizzled out.

Despite Milo’s lingering crush on Eris, his obsessive behavior faded after Arale expanded his social circle and reinforced his former self.

To make matters worse, Arale had started mingling with Eris's own friends. Seph, of all people, had bonded with her (yes, I want to hear about your monster hyperfixation for hours, that was pretty much it), and now Arale was part of their hangouts.

Eris was on the verge of taking drastic meassures.

But then, Valli brought surprising news.

At a party the night before, Arale, drunk, rambled about an intense loss, one that had left her desperate to find someone to obsess over. Someone she could live for completely, even to her own detriment. She spoke of pain so deep that she temporarily abandoned her family and friends with only one goal in mind: to become a perfect servant for a master who would need no one but her. She said that on the day she fulfilled this desire, her soul would be devoured by her object of affection, leaving nothing but an empty shell.

Her words and her serious expression unsettled everyone.

They were quick to brush it off as drunken nonsense, but Valli still felt goosebumps.

Eris, tho, was secretly thrilled.

How had she not seen it before?

A sly smile crept across Eris’s face, for she had just discovered a new vessel she could shape into her perfect love.

(If you wonder what's up with Ryan, it's a silly crush, nothing she wants to commit to. Just a passing fluttery feeling that makes Arale giggle. Meanwhile, Ryan experienced the biggest ego boost of his life and thinks they're very close to becoming an official couple. Also, Arale reads Milo x Ryan fics lol.)

[monsterblogging]

Writing/Worldbuilding/OC Design Tip: Be Curious And Question Everything!

This morning, it crossed my mind that some of the most creative and inspired people I see are incredibly curious and constantly question everything. If they're writing fanfic, they don't just devour setting lore; they use critical thinking skills to probe and question everything about it. In doing this, they inevitably find absolutely fascinating angles to explore, stuff that would never cross your mind if you just took the source media at face value and never really thought about it.

Here's a page with a lot of excellent critical thinking questions!

Also, highly creative people are usually deeply engaged with at least a few bodies of knowledge, like dinosaurs, robots, historical cultures, food and food preparation, ecology, politics, the occult, literally anything. They use their critical thinking skills to explore how they can make worlds, characters, and narratives out of this knowledge, and generally just enhance their creations overall. For example, the average mech anime enjoyer might not think to make a bunch of mechs based on birds, but a mech anime enjoyer armed with critical thinking skills, who also studies birds, might ask themselves, "Okay, what if the mechs were all bird themed? Why did the people in this world make a bunch of bird-themed mecha?" and begin a whole worldbuilding process from there.

So yeah, if you're often struggling to find inspiration, or just want to improve your creative skills, get curious, learn critical thinking skills, and apply them!

[enden-k]

I'm just here, talking how Saran makes me sad, when bam! vika lore hits me upside the head hdjsisjsis

I would give everything for him, my baby 😭

(You don't understand, I haven't been going this insane over a story/universe in a while)

(It's the wanting to feel alive, to feel something, anything, to feel loved, to the point you're willing to die for it because it's still better than your life before)

(It's the loving someone so much you want to devour them/be one with them)

Anyway great oc stuff, love to see it =D

vika is bby....holding him gently in my hand

ngl i have to say this story is easily one of my faves....also the first time im making an actual love story?? (like, where the romance is not happening at the side - if there is any - but actually love being kinda a major theme. when i draw stories its not often that there are canon couples/ppl getting together like saran and vika)

im so happy you mention the devouring out of love bc its rlly important to me that its clear that when vikas time comes, saran is taking him out of love and not just an exchange; a clean end and beginning of their afterlife together, surpassing death. they made a promise and they keep it forever; they love each other so much. its an intimate, deep bond, like their souls intertwined. saran was the first to truly look and acknowledge vika (to love him) and he will be the last vika will see (love), just like vika will be the last saran will ever consume.

anw!!! thanks for liking them!!!

[sun-e-chips]

Good morning!!! I have made another silly thing for Waterspark AU!!

A quick little meme before I have to go to work sigh... (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠)

I know the y/n kisser club is probably just me as usual but you draw them really nice and I don't want to leave them out of the kiss onslaught teehee :3c though if I knew of any persona/oc you had I would have drawn them too in the kiss onslaught cause we cannot leave the mastermind behind the amazing AU unkissed and unthanked!

Also I've started a few animations and longer comics about the shinnanigans I would get up to in the waterpark with the boys, tikis, and y/n so the obsession lives on still!

I find it a little funny how so many people in the DCA fandom are like, bordering on being polyamorous without realizing it but I will devour any and all representation anyway even if it isn't intentional lol, I've been on team "why not both/all?" since before Twilight, why choose one person when you can kiss them all?

Oh, also also! The Waterpark boys have been on my mind even at work for a day or two! Which is so embarrassing cause now my coworker, a nearly 50 year old woman, has to put up with me rambling about them and telling her all of FNAF lore so I can explain DCA lore and fandom so that she knows what in tarnation WaterSpark AU and why I want to kiss two overcomplicated dinner plates :')

Anyway, bye bye again!! I hope you have a lovely morning/day/night!!

Lovecore I am shaking you and munching on your art!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And you tell people about my au!?!?!?!

Oh no y/n they’ve been smooched! hehe no one is safe

Also helloooooo you’re working on more WP content!!! I am so so looking forward to whatever your clever hilarious mind comes up to next! I’m going to need to find more reaction emojis ha!

Wishing you the most wonderful day and the bois say stay hydrated!!! :D

[eightfreak]

i know the question post was like a month ago but i love your ocs and want to know their lore and stuff! how did Flick and Clint meet?

ITS NO PROBLEM AT ALL‼️I DELIGHT IN TALKING ABOUT THEM

Flick and Clint are a pretty old case... Man, they had to be, what, 9 or 10? Their hometown, Paradise, is a pretty backwaters little settlement. Pretty decent schools, VERY decent community. Its a tight-knit little area, so it makes sense that the moment fresh meat was lowered in that it would be devoured Immediately.

Clint moved in permanently with his dad around 8 years old, and they fled from the more bustlesome Utopia city colony to Paradise for a simpler life, just a little ways down south. He was a really closed-off and weird-talking kid, and never showed much interest in speaking to other people. Even when he was caught-up academically, he struggled with the whole socialness bit. Quite literally, he had to be dragged kicking and screaming into friendship, and a very young Flick(and Piper) were more than willing to do so. Those 2 saw him sitting at lunch alone one day and just beelined towards him. I would say its just because it was meant to be, but Clint's dad made really good money in a town mostly consisting of fishermen, and the kids could smell it like it was like blood in the water. Though, where most other kids avoided him (because he kept threatening to bite them), Flick bit first. It was a whole thing actually, Flick's parents had to sign a form and everything and were very embarrassed. But, it was a start. Clint, even if he was fearful of that first interaction, suddenly looked to those funny two with newfound awe and respect.

After a long enough time of hanging out with him cause his parents told him to apologize (and bc his household has the Good snacks,) Flick just found that, hey! This guy aint half bad! It had to be cute, watching Flick effectively socialize this shitty newborn kitten of a child. He seemed to take pride in being an older brother in this regard, showing Clint all his favorite games, and the best trees to sit in(and then promptly not allowing Clint to sit in the good trees because they were for 'big kids only' and Clint's birthday came like, 3 months after the other two's so he was 1 year younger than them for a good majority of the summer (he hated this game)).

It's a very funny, somewhat ironic twist that in the end, Clint became LEAGUES more responsible and formal than his prior mentor, but if you look real close, Flick is still the real 'older bro' in their dynamic! [situationally. they take turns being the older brother]

[uranium235s]

HIIII!!! once again so intrigued about your courier. if you wouldn't mind explaining the context in THIISSS post for your choices in symbolism i will totally devour it. :D

THANK U SO MUCH BELOVED MUTUAL I WILL ANSWER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'll even include little close ups of the symbols in question. long post under the cut probably

CHESTER

1. COLOR - yellow/magenta/dark turquoise

tbh there's not much color symbolism put to thought for my color picks for chester or for arcade they are just colors I picked because I associate these pallettes with them which is CRAZY because i LOVE COLOR SYMBOLISM!! THE CURTAINS ARE ALWAYS BLUE FOR A REASON!!! but I will put depth to them anyhow

yellow, representing joy and optimism reflects chesters outward feelings towards his life and his circumstances. he's a realist in the sense that he knows that things will probably not go his way/he might die but I'd wager that's a pretty common thought process across the post-apocalyptic united states. however he approaches situations with the idea that he can make things better or easier, or resolve things peacefully or with as little conflict as possible, and maintains a positive and upbeat attitude as often as he can manage

magenta is representative of balance, kindness, compassion, which is pretty true to chester's character. he doesnt approach any situation with a mind of violence, and only resorts to it when left with no other choice or pushed into a hard place. he enters every encounter with the idea that other people are human too, even when they're human and evil. he tries very hard to see and understand everything eye-to-eye even when the scenario is way over his head, i.e. pretty much everything about the struggle for power over the dam.

turquoise, on the positive side, has a lot of similar symbology to the other two colors, but on the negative side can represent stress & high alert, which, I mean, come on... I fear there's no couriers out there in the wide world of fnv ocs that aren't constantly unyieldingly stressed out ... darker shades of colors usually have a dour effect to them, seeming unsaturated & devoid of spirit, which I think plays well with chesters mental state throughout the game (and at times after it), a bright and cheerful color that has been stripped of its spark, suddenly looks sadder and has less joyful connotations

2. FLORA - dill

wellll according to the flower dictionary, dill represents power against evil. I am for sure not on flower language & can't speak 100% to the accuracy of random flower almanac online but for the sake of this post let's say it's real. I don't think I need to go into meticulous detail about why dill fits chester so well hashtagindependentvegas, but I think it's more than just him killing "the bad guys" and more his dedication to helping the individuals living in these conditions. his highest faction relationships are with goodsprings, novac, freeside & the followers. yes chester ends up being very powerful in that way that he takes out the biggest heads, but the strongest weapon against oppression and fascism is the simple act of caring about and for other people ,which is what turns out to be what chester does most and loves best

3. FAUNA - cow

cows symbolize generosity and nurturing, but I think I've already covered things similar to that with the previous couple of things so I want to focus more on the cow as an image of butchery and sacrifice, and in contest to the Legion using the bull as it's token symbol. I think chester is frequently in a position in which people are trying to use him and kill him, getting him out of the way so that some aspect of what he has can be useful, or sending him to his death or into danger for personal gain. need I even mention old world blues and being literally hacked apart . also I've never mentioned chester has legion lore but he was owned by the legion for several years as a child and I think it's quite interesting if he's represented by a cow, a softer and arguably more toothless vision of the same creature (I am aware all bovines are quite big and strong but I'm talking about representations here <3)

4. OBJECT - screwdriver

while in the legion his primary job was repairing and cleaning weapons and technology, and he grew a real hatred for mechanical upkeep after escaping, letting his own property (weapons, furniture, etc) go to waste because he couldn't bring himself to diddle with things anymore. i think the screwdriver kind of represents the apprehension to grow and heal from his own past (as opposed to running away from it + changing himself to ignore it). it sounds kind of silly when I write it out but it's okay 🥹

5. SONG - Life During Wartime - Talking Heads

I actually don't know what to say about this one for real because explaining how I relate my characters to music is like trying to say what a color tastes like it's so hard because it's very much about feelings and lyrics and lyrical analysis is a whole other beast for me BUT this is my excuse to post the chester playlist ;)

6. FEELING - enduring

Chester is experiencing a near sisyphean struggle day in and day out but he still makes it to the end of the fucking game BABYYYY. chester knows that the struggle in the mojave will never be over and he loves it anyway, chester knows there will always be someone trying to hurt others and he keeps trying to prevent it anyway. he will always be doing something in the face of adversity and will keep going anyway. maybe a bad explanation but idk! he just doesn't give up! indomitable chester

ARCADE

1. COLOR - off-white/light yellow/blue

for off white I was thinking of white being representative of purity & innocence & off white being kind of an off-kilter interpretation. arcade had such strong ideals and wants such cut, clear good things for the people of the wasteland. I agree with what he wants very much but I think in action, some of the things you have to do to achieve them have more complicated outcomes than is let on in theory sometimes!!! you have to kill a LOT of people in this game!!!

fun fact yellow is also a color that represents intelligence + clarity, things I think arcade has in spades, obviously . I chose light yellow because I like it for him more, it's a gentler color and i think arcade is a more gentle person than he gets credit for (am not calling him weak or anything, just tactful & cautious)

as for blue , I think the obvious call is that it is symbolic of sadness and melancholy, but i also find I like that blue can represent stagnation and boredom and loneliness, all things I think arcade vocally struggles with before becoming involved in the escapades of the courier (in my case chester of course). I think the dialogue he has when you ask him about his research in the old Mormon fort does not spell the story of a person that is happy where they are at, talking about how the research is boring and fruitless, and apologizing for rambling to you because he never has an outlet for his thoughts. not being a people person, being "stuck" with his research because he doesn't want to interact with others despite being a for serious doctor. I'm clutching my chest I'm so distressed by him

2. FLORA - rosemary

chester and arcade with their herb symbology. aren't they so special. apparently rosemary is symbolic for remembrance! Arcade's story is deeply steeped in themes of memory and the past, I think it is only suitable that he would have something likewise for this. he grapples strongly with how lovingly he remembers his family vs. the reality of what they participated in. most of his pertinent ambient dialogue is him reminiscing on things from his childhood, old world technology and science, politics, writing and history. arcade, before his growth, is living both in the past of his own life, and other peoples

3. FAUNA - elephant

you know the old adage about elephants having excellent memory is actually true and not an exaggeration but since I've already said my piece about arcade and memory I will instead say that elephants are one of the most nurturing animals on the planet and travel in family herds ! Male elephants do break off from the herd after some years but female elephants will stay forever. I often think about how arcade lost his father at a young age and then had his mother and Daisy to turn to most of all. the maternity of it all wounds me!!!!

4. OBJECT - scizzors

i fear the symbolism as scizzors as a means to cut ties/cut free makes me sick when I think about encouraging arcade to grow and become his own person outside of the enclave + his fathers' shadows. also scizzors medical utensil, finish of stitches, open wounds , et cetera. I feel so silly with these surface level explanations of things that's my bad

5. SONG - Runs in the Family - The Roches

oooh you wanna listen sooo bad

6. FEELING - guilt

maybe a bit on the nose its in my opinion kind of that arcade feels like he has to make things up to the world based on his family's behavior... I think arcade does what he does for the right reasons of course but I also think it's so beautiful & telling that this guy is so passionate about knowledge, learning, and restoration, which are things the enclave had too, to some degree, but wants these things to be put to action in a way that aids and benefits the lowlifes that would've been put to death in an enclave-run mojave. poor drug addicts and land starved farmers, traders and prostitutes and more. the common person and all their flaws become just as worthy in arcades eyes than they would've been to others. I think there is a shadow of responsibility to be this better person hanging over his head that is made bolder by a genuine enthusiastic passion for medicine and research & an understanding of what would be actually useful to people in a world such as this. he wonders if this is what his father would've wanted him to be. I think I could've found a more apt word than guilt but to my defense I was at work when drawing this

[corvid-case]

hello everyone :) I'm Corvid/Icarus/Shark, pronouns they/them!! Tone tags appreciated!!! Artist and writer, working on fics :D I don't have one main fandom I have FOUR do you like plastic ninja and turtle ninja and Minecraft block men because boy I do (Ninjago, ROTTMNT (I don't really know any other version I'm sorry guys), Life Series, Hermitcraft) I also really like Dreamzzz but I've just started that series so I have less feelings about it /lh Do YOU like silly little aus about Ninjago and Rise because I have many if you're interested I have a list I'll put them under the read more with their name, tags, and a short description :) ITS LONG IM SORRY LMAO Also yes there is shipping in some of these, not really in any of the Rise aus but in the Ninjago aus there's some, most of the time it doesn't really affect most of the story but I'll mention if it does

RISE OF THE TMNT

Initium Novum (#inau) Told from the perspective of an OC (lost turtle sibling called Masaccio (Acie)), takes place during the show and has a lot of other OCs in it if that's not your jam

What Do You Do When You Fall Into Heaven? (#fihau) Told from multiple perspectives, takes place during/after the movie and is a hurt/comfort. The same cast as Initium Novum, with some additions :) I really wanted to write the future guys man they all show up at some point

Who's That Hamato? (#wthau) Kind of an au of Initium Novum, it's what if Acie was also taken in by Splinter. Explores a different facet of them, explores how their relationships would be different in a different situation.

We Have Got To Stop Meeting New People Like This (#snpau) Another Initium Novum/WDYDWYFIH au but this one's Ninjago :) Similar to House of the Rising Sun (Shells) in that the Merge caused their world to join the Merged Realms, they all explore this new world and Acie gets to go nuts.

Boys of Summer (#bosau) Non-OC au, it's another separated au throw the confetti throw the sparkles- Leo focused, he's still with Splinter but Draxum is there as well and has been redeemed, the others found their own ways out of the lab and ended up in different places.

Rise from the Dead (#rftdau) Non-OC au, puts a ghostly spin on the story. The turtles are all ghosts that only April can see. There's no yokai and no mystics, but multiple yokai characters are still in the story, just as humans.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Critters (#tmncau) Sort of Minecraft au but not really, I just really really love the fanon Minecraft hybrids so I made the turtles into them :). They're mutants still but they've got distinctly Minecraft hybrid traits I've put sooo much thought into the traits for all the different hybrids it's so fun

Shell From Another Realm (#sfarau) A Rise/Ninjago crossover au, takes place post-Rise movie and post-Crystalized pre-Dragon's Rising. The turtles, April, and Casey end up in the world of Ninjago and try to find their way home while also trying to figure out this new world.

House of the Rising Sun (Shells) (#hotrsau) Another Rise/Ninjago crossover au, completely separate from the previous one in that this takes place during Dragon's Rising instead. When the Merge caused all the Realms to collide, Earth was one of them, and everyone ended up scattered across the Merged Realms. The Hamatos decide to settle in the Crossroads and meet some young faces.

NINJAGO

Some Assembly Required (#sarau) Completely rewrites the entire thing, based on the question "what if the bite from the Devourer didn't turn Garmadon evil and instead made him sick?" Garmadon is good and raising his children, the kids aren't really as in tune with their elemental powers, and I made a bunch of lore for it around the dragons and the other elemental masters please ask me about it please please /lh (has a couple ocs but not very many) (pretty shippy, a lot of poly relationships)

Web of Destiny (#wodau) Spiderman au, all six main ninja are a group of heroes, with Pixal as a vigilante. Other characters from the series feature as villains. The Dragons Rising cast also features.

The Dragon's Samurai (#tdsau) Crystalized ending rewrite, Pixal focused. Asking "what if their golden powers went haywire after they sent them to Lloyd, causing them to lose themselves? Also what if Nya got a golden form I'm so sad she didn't get one" Basically they get taken over by their powers and Pixal has to go talk some sense into them I lOVE PIXAL SO MUCH DO YOU UNDERST

Abnormal Reaction (#arau) DO YOU GUYS LIKE THE BIZARROS BECAUSE I DO this is entirely me wanting to have a Bizarro au they don't die after getting dusted they just regroup somewhere else and decide to go do their own thing after Garmadon gets defeated

A Different Vision of the Future (#advotfau) I'm lowkey embarrassed about this one lmAO it's a Genshin au,,,,, I probably won't write a fic for it like I will with the others but I wanted to draw it and explore the concept I don't even play Genshin anymore I'm crying

Ready Your Triforce, It's About To Have More Sides (#rytau) Do you guys like Breath of the Wild :) I like Breath of the Wild :) BotW/Ninjago crossover au besties they all end up in different points in time and get to interact with different pEOPLE lots of me messing around with dynamics

staring up at the sky (and hoping to see your face) (#suatsau) Veeeeery self indulgent self discovery au. Everyone but Lloyd is this almost godlike ruler of different concepts and they give him the chance to leave everything to come join them, and he has to make that decision.

Ninjas & Normies (#nanau) They're all just normal college students who like to play D&D, they each get a chance to run a campaign once they're taught how to play. Each campaign is based off a plot point or season from the show.

Departed and Service (#dasau) BASED ON Five Nights at Freddys NOT ACTUALLY A FNAF AU I don't know NEARLY enough about the fnaf lore to make an actual au with it but they're all animatronic characters from a very popular kid's TV show and Morro and Pixal are employees at their party place :) A bunch of side characters show up in this (Dragon's Rising cast also appears)

SPINJITZOON! (#spinau) It's a Splatoon au they're all having fun Ronin is basically Grizz he messes with their weapons and makes them more powerful (Dragon's Rising cast appears)

Pokemon Spin and Pokemon Whip (#pspwau) Pokemon au!!! There's two different parts to this, the first one starring Kai Nya and Lloyd, and the second starring Arin Sora Wyldfyre and Euphrasia! They all go on their adventures and in the second part Kai Nya and Lloyd see themselves in these kids and want to help them go farther

Adventures of the Dragon (#aotdau) Another D&D au but this one is them just living in a D&D fantasy style world :) silly things ensue this one's more just art than fully written story

Shapes and Colors (#sacau) Minecraft au! They're a group of friends who play on a server together and some of them are streamers and youtubers who record these sessions and put it out there for their fans, some of them do lore while some of them have no idea what's going on any of the time. Other elemental masters and Dragons Rising characters appear. (shippy, but mostly with their little characters that they made for the lore)

Lights, Camera, Action! (#lcaau) Silly actor au! Not much else to it

Song of the Sirens (#sotsau) Mermaid au, some of them are pirates and others are mermaids. Just some fun dynamics with some human/nonhuman shipping :)

Mobs of a Feather Flock Together (#moafftau) Another,, another Minecraft au this one is like Adventures of the Dragon in that they live in this world and also they're all different Minecraft hybrids I got really really into Minecraft hybrids man I just really like to draw them,,,, Dragons Rising cast is included

Ninjagoing Going Gone (#gggau) Sort of Scooby Doo-esque mystery au, kind of a blend between movieverse and showverse. Starring Arin, Sora, Wyldfyre, and Euphrasia, they're looking for the old heroes they used to hear about as kids who completely disappeared years ago. They find Lloyd and force him convince him to help them, even though he's not so sure he can.

These Problems Are Multi-Faceted (#tpamfau) Gem au! Like from Steven Universe! Except it's not a Steven Universe au, it doesn't follow the plot of the show at all. Super quick synopsis is Pink Diamond grew tired of the way things were on Homeworld and so rebelled, escaping with his fellow rebels to a planet already under his control. After lots of fighting and the establishment of a shaky truce, an Emerald and his crew are sent to the planet to try and bring Pink back.

[immersilly]

摸門釘 [Ena Sekiro Lore]

Please do NOT heavily reference your own works using mine :)!

Tbhk oc lore made by me, i might alter it again idk. enjoy i guess, i dont know why anyone would want to read this lol

background/ lore information for Ena Sekiro and 'The Mother of Supernaturals' Suzuna

---

Background info-

Birth place: Kokuren village/clan

• Village that follows 'olden ways' and did not modernize with society

• In far mountains

Old folk lore speaks of a demon who had plagued their village for centuries, consuming and devouring its people, people could not leave the town, out of fear. One day an "angel" falls from the heavens to Kokuren village the angel and the demon fight and in the end, both die

• Their fight leads to the growth of black lotus flowers.

• Rumor has it that one day a child of sin would be born and the demon would reincarnate from that child and ruin the village once more

• The angel would be worshiped like a deity

• While the village no longer was isolated/ unable to explore, it was still taboo to leave or explore the world

• Had connections to surrounding clans including Minamoto clan

• Black lotus would be experimented and used for rituals or spiritual/religious things relating to the angel and the demon

Black lotus info:

• They cannot be grown artificially; they only grow in the village, how they keep spreading is unknown

• Only grow naturally around the village, grow in big cluster where it was assumed the demon and angel had died together

• The flowers seem to live forever, or a really long time

• The black lotus is extremely poisonous, simply touching it can cause irritation to the skin. Consuming it could altogether just kill a person. But mainly dulls/ weakens consumer's senses

---

Family background-

-(Ena's Mom)

A married woman and her husband live together in Kokuren village.

        • The wife happens to study the black lotus. Also happened to often assist the uses of black lotus in         rituals etc.

        • Considered important woman who is respected by others

        • One day she meets an injured fangxiangshi (chinese excorsist)

        • He is a wanderer who does as he pleases, originally going to Japan to meet with a Japanese excorsist         (assumed to be head of minamoto clan) but gets into a complication with a apparition and ends up         dragged near the village

        • He's a womanizer 💀 very bad.

        • She is cautious if him since he's an outsider, but she helps him none the less.

        • The two end up having an affair and he ends up leaving

-(Ena's Dad)

A fangxiangshi of an honorable family who decided to travel the world for a sense of freedom, leaving all his responsibilities behind.

        •despite his layed back, womanizing behavior, he is still in fact a powerful exorcist

----------

Backstory: 

When Hiromu was born, he looked exactly like his father, the same brown hair and greyish purple eyes, traits neither his mother or his mother's husband had.  With Kokuren's traditional customs, the idea of affairs were frowned upon, especially from someone with her reputation as scientist (studying the black lotus).

To save face, his mother claims that the rumors of the reincarnation of the demon are true and she is a victim of it all. 

Hiromu is promptly caged and isolated from other children and citizens as a whole. His mother take the position of 'studying' him since she studied the black lotus. For the first few years of Hiromu's life his mother would briefly care for him whenever it was necessary and spend the rest of her time with her black lotus study. The whole reincarnation ploy was a ruse of course-

It would not stay that way. There was of course suspicion from other villagers that the baby was actually the result of an affair, but those rumors were originally rare due to Hiromu's mother's position, there was no reason for her to lie. Seeing how she was willing to spare the child and study it instead of immediately killing it made people suspicious. 

Hiromu's mother tried her hardest to refute these rumors the harsher and more popular this rumor of her affair got. She cared deeply for her position and her reputation. If she was shamed and found out what she did she would no longer be allowed her job of studying lotus along with the tarnished reputation. She would become so committed to denying the affair claims she started to genuinely believing she didn't have an affair. 

Eventually a psychic would be hired to examine Hiromu when he turned 5. By then he was locked up in an isolated shed. The Psychic confirms that there is something wrong with his energy. She says there is a dark spiritual energy that emanates from him that would be difficult for low level exorcists to expel or even sense. After her vision, she take her money for the job and leaves. 

With this now confirmed Hiromu's mother, who already begun believing her own delusions full on believed it was not her fault at all. Her son was cursed by the legend of a demon and she was the poor victim. 

Soon after she left, sightings of supernatural creatures and occurrences begun on the rise. Hiromu's 'awakening demon presence' was to blame according to the villagers. 

Little did the village know, the psychic was a fraud/scammer who only spoke what would benefit her. She assumed eventually she would be called back to exorcize the child herself after her claim that weaklings couldn't sense the dark aura and planting a supernatural charm on him to attract supernatural to him, causing more of a stir. Her hopes of being called back for another job for the village failed. 

With the confirmation that Hiromu is in fact the incarnate of the demon who destroyed their village that chief takes matters into his own hands. Hiromu's identity is announced to the whole village (reminder he is still just a child). Instead of immediately killing him, they use his body as a sacrifice/tool for their rituals, giving to the angel who protecting them centuries ago. 

(WARNING FOR THIS PARAGRAPH ONLY: SLIGHTLY GRAPH/GOREY/ HONESTLY JUST TORTURE)

Hiromu had his canines' shaves flat and nails partially removed in order 'to disarm the demon' he was to be locked away and only let out when he was needed in a ceremony, ritual or any event giving to the angel. He was forced to drink a liquid made of the black lotus his mother was in charge of studying daily. While not shown, Hiromu would describe the ceremonies and rituals as painful ripping and tearing apart of his limbs into the bleeding was no more. The Black lotus liquid itself tasting detestable, it pained his organs and every movement, but the pain overtook any other feeling. 

Other than the ceremonies, early on, while he was more able bodied, he would attempt to escape many times. All attempts would fail and end with him being dragged back to where he started. When he was locked up he would spend his time counting, the only thing he really knew how to do. 

Eventually a woman in the village had enough of the treatment of the child and attempted to help him escape. Letting him out of his cell, she ran with him into the forest, hoping to find a way out, somewhere he would be safe from the hell he knew as home-. She would fail and die, being slaughtered by an apparition attracted to the charm tagged to Hiromu himself. Hiromu on the other hand would survive. After watching the woman be eaten, he would be saved by a Minamoto child, Teru Minamoto. 

Taken back home, nothing would come of this interaction. Teru's visits would increase with the number of apparitions. Kokuren would be used as a sort of warming up training ground with the increased amount of apparitions it summoned. The chief would not inform Teru nor his instructor of the 'demon' and the villagers were ordered not to say a word. (Minamoto clan would eventually stop their training visits and offer talisman that would protect the village. without knowledge of the shed, it would not be protected) 

Hiromu's attempts to escape would come to a stop after the woman's death. 

(back to not able bodied Hiromu WARNING: THIS PARAGRAPH IS AGAIN, A LITTLE UNSETTLING)

One day after a ceremony left him in severe condition he would be left lying on the ground in his shed. The effect of every ceremony, ritual, event had worsened his body to a nauseating degree. Parts of his skin were left with dark purple coloration from all the black lotus he had drank, he no longer could taste, or feel anything but that concoction and pain, his sight was degrading and overall might as well have been dead and decomposing. 

After news of a strange energy drawing supernaturals in from the area became known. Suzuna would leave the school and investigate on her own. It would not hurt to try, testing her limit as a lone floating voice would not be bad. If she wanted to gain any strength or resilience she had to start from somewhere. Upon making it to the village after a long walk, she would focus her attention on a shed. A very peculiar shed. Upon investigating she would find a boy. A scrawny, injured, out of place, unsettling to look at boy, but a normal boy in the end. What took her attention was not his horrible state or condition, not even the building. It was his face. He looked strikingly similar to a child she once loved and cared for dearly. 

Horimu is offered help from a mysterious voice coming from a woman. She gives him the choice of rotting away like a corpse, or following her as her assistant. In his eyes she is his savior, the one who will be able to save him. He is desperate for the pain and numbness to end. When he accepts, she 'puts him back together' and helps him escape. 

"you will needs me and me alone, no one else with harm you this way again as long as you obey my every orders. No one else will save you, child" 

From that day forward the rise of supernaturals around Kokuren with cease. 

Suzuna renames Horimu, Ena, after the first child she favored. WHile unable to remove the purple marks on his body or his taste, she was able to remove a majority of his fatigue and physical injuries, she cures his eyesight and makes him able bodied once more.   

Ena would stubble his way out of the forest before passing out. unable to carrying him or anything as only a voice, she could only watch over him. 

A girl passing by on her walk home is alarmed, seeing the passed out boy just laying in the dirt. She picks him up and takes him home. From there she nurses him back to full health. Ena, who cannot speak, read or write, learns most of his academics from the girl. She takes care of him out of worry, he doesn't look from around the city in his attire, and he couldn't even speak to her properly to begin with. Ena is untrusting of her and starts off uncomfortable and cold to her (he literally cannot communicate with her). As time goes on, he begins warming up to her, Suzuna on the other hand urges him to leave. Ena is wary of leaving though, finding comfort in the girl who he was under the care of. This would end poorly, with Suzuna luring a supernatural to her home effectively killing her and her family.  Suzuna blames Ena for the girl's death and urges him to follow orders better or more will die. 

Suzuna guides him back to Kamome Academy, where her real form is able to reside...

currently Ena is Suzuna's asistant; he works to care adn protect the apparitions of Kamome academy in Suzuna's place

----------

Suzuna lore:

"Despite not being an official School Wonder, Suzuna (鈴奈) [known as Lady Suzu or Suzu, or 'The Mother of Supernaturals'] has the respect of most supernatural and other wonders of the school. It's thought that she has been residing here for a long time. She is unofficially titled "Wonder number 0" Suzu sometimes speaks of a time where she once had a body (she's a disembodied voice currently, she is only able to form a false body for herself in a certain small part of the school). No one is sure how it happened, but rumor has it, god had taken away her body as divine punishment."

backstory-

Suzuna was once a well loved priestess of a shrine (that would later be built over and turned into Kamome Academy). She often watched over the children who visited and aided the elderly. Anyone in her care was surely to feel better. She wore a warm smile and she was always covered or had cherry blossom petals on her uniform and in her hair. She remembered everyone who visited and was sure to greet them is she ever saw them. She acted as a caring warming mother to everyone. She seemed to be an untouchable flawless being who blessed any who came into contact with her. Her favorite was a little girl named Ena who frequently visited her, giving her trinkets and gifts whenever she visited. She treated her Ena as if she were her own daughter. She would give the world for her. They would talk for hours about whatever Ena wanted. 

That is until Ena started drifting away from her one day, she begun to visit less frequently and speak with Suzuna much less. Unknown to Suzuna, Ena was Planning a surprise party for Suzuna's birthday. The thought of losing Ena drove Suzuna mad, during one of Ena's visits leading up to Suzuna's birthday, Suzuna would kill Ena in a fit of frustration. This would quickly be found out by the community and Suzuna would be turned against. She would be dragged out of the shrine she spent her whole life in and burned alive by her favorite cherry blossom tree. 

From this day forward she curses god for the cruel punishment he placed on her for her actions. She hopes for a day where she will be able to enact revenge. 

[kakushino]

Greetings! I'm the anon from this ask! I swear I wanted to see if it was answered like two days after I send it, then I fucking forgot HSHSHSH.

anyway! thank you for the reply and the verrry useful information! With it, I could finalize and demonize my kny bbys. I could only do two out of four today, but I wanna hear cha thoughts on em.

heres Daisuke! Two versions, I can't decide between grey or tanish skin

As seen in the little doodles next to him, he's a water demon! not directly related to Giyuu and his bloodline, but kinda like cousins.

The Nakamura line of demons are coastal/ sea demons! They earliest documented ancestors of their escaped the facility that held them and vanished into the sea. There, they lived in small groups. Sometimes, the females would leave to have offspring with other demons (mostly demons that lived in the town near the sea) and come back. The bloodline was mostly, perfectly pure.

Living in the ocean by Izu Peninsula, they would occasionally devoure the unfortunate tourist that wandered to close to one of them and didn't consider their warning. Or the occasionally disrespectful teenagers that took daddy's boat out to the sea and threw their trash overboard. So far, from the entire bloodline, they all together killed only around 15 humans. And that over several years.

They prefer fish, crustaceans, and jellyfish especially.

There's NO case of a domesticated Nakamura. All that have been captured and kept in captivity died soon after.

Thanks to poachers hunting them and selling them to eager scientists who want to be first to domesticate them, there's only 3 left. Siblings all too, the oldest sister Mizuki and the twins, Osuke and Daisuke.

I have sooo much more lore about them, but I think this ask is getting a biiiit too long. HSHSHHS I wanna know your opinion, thoughts, and criticism on em! If u want I could even give you the story idea I had for them in dms :00

OG ask

Oh I LOVE LOVE LOVE how you draw by the way!!! The details of the markings are spectacular and the sea doodles? 🥺🙏❤️ I'm in love!

I'd go with grey skin for Daisuke to be honest, just because it adds to the aberrant feel of a demon (and also because it looks freaking cool okay)

Cousins! Damn the lore drop fed me well! Nakamura demons my beloved! Have they developed more fish-like features? Like webbed skin between their fingers for easier swimming? Or elongated feet with fin-like structure? I adore the chomps doodle, it made me giggle ❤️

Where do they hide during the day? Underwater? In caves? Oooh DO THEIR MARKS GLOW IN THE DARK?

I honestly don't mind big lore drops! It gives more opportunity to ask questions and talk about it 😌 I can't wait to hear more of your OC's! Can I link this ask + future posts in the collab masterlist? 🙏

[cherulee]

Hi!! First I just wanna say that I really enjoy your art, your style is very cute! Also, I noticed that you've established Wren as a monster keeper. If that's still a part of her lore, how did she start doing that sort of thing? :3

omg omg thank u sm !!! 😭 i love ur art style too and ocs as well they're so adorable

also thank u sm for asking 😽 wren is what i like to call an "accidental monster keeper"

there's an event in her story that causes monsters never before seen to enter town and run amok (as much as i want to infodump about this event, i wanna introduce some more characters first 👁️)

but one of these new creatures is a pretty down on his luck monster. he's kinda at the bottom of the food chain and starving thanks to the bigger stronger monsters taking all the good meals and only leaving his kind the scraps

he manages to escape into town and makes his new home in wren's cellar of all places. the monster figures that this is great. he knows someone lives here based off of the well kept and decorated interior so it's only a matter of time before that person gets back home. once they get back, he'll make himself known and devour their soul. an easy meal and much better than the scraps he's been living off of for who knows how long

however all his hopes, dreams, and aspirations are crushed when he corners wren and is mere seconds away from eating her, only for her to tell him that she's not fully human.

his kind isn't able to digest the souls and bodies of witches. the only beings he can eat are humans and lower level monsters like slimes, dust sprites, bats, and bugs. not as fulfilling though

so he's devastated, the hunger pains have been getting to him and the one human looking person he finds turns out not to be human at all.

wren doesn't exactly know what to do about him. he begs her not to kill him or send him back to his realm (which she doesn't even know how to do). she knows she should tell marlon about this situation, but at the same time she takes pity on the monster. he seems more like a giant pathetic wet cat than anything, but she doesn't want to risk him escaping and eating humans.

luckily he loves pink cake

she does have to deal with him singing pop songs from the radio at 3 in the morning though, and to make it worse he's slightly off key

[theothersideofhim]

Secret, Mistake, Midnight

from [here]

Under the cut since it's A LOT and also a SECRET lmao

secret: What’s one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

Easy enough: he's lonely. He's intensely, earth-shatteringly, irreparably lonely and it's directly because he's part of a duality where each part is designed to function alone. Me and Asche's personal lore for Stan is that he's "the other side" of God but that doesn't mean they're meant to get along. They're meant to be locked in a tidal orbit of never ending conflict, bound to each other but light years away. Stan is meant to be The Adversary and my personal lore is that he's just a little fucking sad about that.

Like he remembers helping to create the universe, hurling matter and heat in every direction, breaking down everything so Eli could pull it back together and form it into more and more complex elements, smashing atoms and meteors and whole planets into each other in a chaotic Mario Party Smash that lasted billions of eons and also just one flashbang

... so Eli could come in and create life on what was left.

And he knows that the only way to ever experience that sense of belonging and purpose again--at least on that "Mantle of the Adversary", cosmic level anyway--is to create a new universe. And he knows that in order for that to really happen the one they'd already made would have to be destroyed.

So there's that.

All this to say, I don't think Stan understands that's what he's feeling anyway. I think it translates to him as Angry and Sad. He'll show the angry part but he doesn't want people to ever know about the sad part.

Oh also he likes head touches and neck kisses shhhSHSHHHHHHH.

mistake: What’s the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

Designing the platypus.

No but seriously, this one is really hard. I wanna say almost killing Lucifer, but is that really the worst? In all the millenia that Stan has been alive, his WORST MISTAKE was making Lucifer believe he was going to die at Stan's hands? Because in all honesty, the two of them will eventually find their way back into the toxic, symbiotic relationship they've had since Lucifer fell and everything will fall back into place again.

But will it??? Will it really????????? He effectively put Doubt in Lucifer's head for... basically as long as it's going to sit there. They'd gotten so close as for Stan to actually tell Lucifer "I love you", even if it was just a whisper, even if it was after just sticking a knife in the former angel's stomach, and they were both reminded that it could have been thrown away in a heartbeat over the pull of the Mantles needing to fill Roles.

Whether or not Lucifer moves on from it, Stan is always going to remember being slightly out of control... but not entirely. He was somewhere in the vicinity of the driver's seat and that is fucking chilling in its implications for Lucifer's place in his heart and Stan's capacity to have one in the first place.

So yeah I guess I'll keep it at that for now.

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

He has a fear of intimacy that is in direct conflict with his aforementioned loneliness, and yeah that actually keeps him up at night sometimes lmao. If you wanted to get deeper into that it's a fear of rejection. If you wanted to go even further it's a fear of abandonment.

That's too far woah woahhhh bring it on back now.

His nightmares are always full of songs sung by angels made by Him but Not Him, sounds he can't make that spin molecules together into planets and cities and people, beautiful and terrible but muffled and far away like it was a record playing in another room.

He never speaks in his dreams. His mouth wasn't meant to make sound it was meant to devour, and he never yells or screams or throws any kinds of fits in his dreams.

[gravyhoney]

a piece of oc lore or ninjago headcanons that you want to share?

Uhhhhh I actually can’t think of anything super serious rn, I’ll just restate some things I maybe said twice.

Kit is the EM of light, doesn’t know how it works and didn’t really want it but got saddled with it anyways.

Charlie lived with her shitty mom and grandma, both of whom died during the great Devourer disaster, Charlie was 13 and was counted amongst the dead despite. Not being that. Also Charlie is not her birth name. (Don’t ask what her birth name was, I don’t know. I didn’t come up with one. Come up with your own birth name for her idk)

Toni is dating Skylor 👍