#mcd original character

[bread-squid-uwu]

Aphmau OCs are still cool, right?

Decided to revamp my girl for a MCD design, and yes i'm fully aware the dress and choker make zero sense for MCD but hey man, it looks pretty and also she's a slut so. meh

Prepare for me to be annoying about her and her children lmfao because I still love them 💚💚

[bubbi-pop]

I TOLD Y'ALL I WAS COOKING !!!

I love this drawing I'm not even gonna lie to you dawg I'm very proud of it (me when I actually shade a drawing for once) and as much as I love the look (and speed) of not shading I forget how much it can set a tone for a drawing... showed it to my mom through the whole process and she immediately asked me if he was evil lol

This drawing is inspired by Father Paul Hill from Midnight Mass (absolutely brilliant show btw) and Claude Frollo from Hunchback of Notre Dame in a way, those two characters inspire me a lot when it comes to villains, the way they are so personally convinced that they're right when a million and one things show them that they're wrong because of their blind faith... that and blind unwavering faith being typically associated w heroes is gonna get me EVERY time (they are inspos for Gabriel in my miraculous au hehe)

(this is just inspired by religious imagery and isn't intended to be accurate)

[mentally-a-slut]

this is not a drill, through out my seemingly endless flare up of my multitude of illnesses, i have returned to my roots of aphmau's mcd and mystreet. i am obsessed. i want to grab these minecraft men by the face and smooch them to death.

they are all i can think about. i am having daydreams about writing fic for them. these stupid fucking block men are ruining my life once again.

someone please stop me before i start yet another full length fanfic about them PLEASE HELP ME.

[shroomyart404]

Aphmau's pinboard

this originally was just gonna be a doodle page but I got carried away

(higher quality on patreon)

[jinkiesmariz]

Lapis Valentine’s Day thing!!

A little quick sketch of them :3 anyways lemme share like the shit load of art I have of them

Starting with like the colored stuff along with initial headshot + younger lapis. He is so itty- fun fact he gets fur on his arms and grows along his lower back around the time fall and winter roll around and then mostly sheds it off in spring

Also if they saw that aph has the Irene relic they’ll literally study her until he’s able to make a relic on his own

Anyways the kid drawing has a little story to it where Juniper (Lapis’ mentor and guardian) adopted lapis from the streets in order to have someone to pass their magic research onto and to continue it- like brings lapis to their house deep in the woods/kinda jungle area of Tu’la and sooner than later starts to work on a project/studying how enchanting works. They’re grinding up some lapis when they realize they don’t have enough on hand and offhandedly holds their hand out saying “Lapis.” As if asking for it, and ofc the kid gets confused for a moment since they’re just watching the process and instead of retrieving the stone she’s like ? Me lapis? Yes hi :3 and juniper felt too bad to correct them and felt they needed a name Anywyas so Lapis officially joins h the Voidkeeper family !!!

Family guy death pose + other art of them in MCD I’ll make a dump post of them and lu Wei + mystreet au stuff :3 cuz my phone is lagging ooops (last one is an old sketch of mystreet outfit whoopsies)

[aceyillustrations]

Minecraft Diaries AU | Layla and Jason Ross When the siblings get involved in my self-indulgent shenanigans

Anyway, meet Layla and Jason! They're siblings (Jason older, Layla younger) who guard their home town, Manarkia. They work under the lord whose also their dad.

Layla is a practicing magicks user, while Jason uses magicks every once in a while. (Fun fact, Jason's a premature shadow knight!)

[laurancezvahlslefteyebrow]

OMG I FORGOT

a couples months ago i decided to make a skin for my mcd oc

her actual design under cut 👇🏻

i’m actually so proud of it because i’ve never made a skin before.. at least not well

[charonarp]

Here's a little sneak peak on what to expect on the page talking about the Tu'la region!

(Aka, basically most of the information out of what's likely going to be 2-paged section since there's not a lotta info on Tu'la lol)

Totally not sharing this because I made art I'm proud off .>. (Edit: I just realized there's some information I forgot to put into this, so the final version will have a few more words :p It's just the characteristics on cursed Meif'was - aka people who were cursed into being Meif'was)

I've said it before (somewhere), and I'll say it again. I want this pdf to be as beginner friendly as possible, whether it be for both new players and new DMs.

I won't be adding detailed stuff from specific sources, or be blatantly taking things from copyrighted material and directly placing them in here (I think the closest thing that might be iffy is stuff I've taken from Daggerheart that's intended to help players and DMs create custom societies/communities, but hopefully it's okay since I'm only taking the name and basic descriptions they give rather than the entire card). - This feature can also be applied to existing regions to flesh them out if you want to take things into your own hands and explore regions that have not been explored yet in MCD/DR.

Now, if you read it, I'm sure some people might be a bit upset that there's no homebrewed Meif'wa race made from scratch. Here's the thing...there's a lot or races in D&D 5e (2014), and there's even a "Lineage" rage from Tasha's, which essentially allows you to make your own race.

And to be honest...not much is known about the characteristics of Meif'was outside of them looking and occasionally acting like cats? Besides that, I couldn't really find anything that could help them stand out as their own race.

So, instead of making it a whole thing... I've instead put down a suggestion that, since the players are the creators of their characters, that they should be able to use any race (within reason) to define their character's appearance and function. This will also be applied to the Lu'pine/werewolf race, in some degree.

Personally, I'm someone who tends to view races, or "species" as they're now called since the 2024 version, as a guideline. Simply put, if I want my character to look a little strange or have a unique feature from the norm, I'll take a race that suits it best and change it up.

Take Tieflings for example. Tieflings are depicted to be devil/demon-like, but in most cases, even in D&D's Forgotten Realms, demons and devils can look like a lot of things, and there's even some anthropomorphic entities that are classified as demons/devils. What's stopping you from playing a fox-like character with an infernal heritage? Or someone who looks like a basic human but with infernal traits?

There's also the Owlin race, which is depicted to being an anthropomorphic owl that can be medium or small sized. I'm someone who likes to draw human faces, so what's stopping me from playing a human-looking guy with large bird-like wings?

I want this PDF to encourage creativity and out-of-the-box thinking. I've played with many players and GMs who are way too stiff with their creativity, mainly when it comes to character creation.

Sure, a human is meant to be generic, but what's stopping you from making them be more doll-like thematically? You're not changing the way they function, but you are changing the way they appear and behave. Systematically, this way of creativity is harmless.

There are subraces of all kinds, and all of them can't be covered entirely in official content. Another reason I'm not adding homebrew races or classes into this is not just because of balancing reasons, but because some DMs might not be open to homebrew, or some players might get nervous or uncomfortable with homebrew creations (like I am).

I do plan on making a page that'll be a kind of guide on how to "mix and match" certain things, though mainly in the terms of backgrounds. Did you know that, apparently, you can change your background feature to whatever feature you want if you're not happy with it? I DIDN'T UNTIL EARLIER THIS WEEK!

I'm also adding a few examples of homebrewed rules some games tend to have, since I'm sure some (or most) members of this community are not experienced in D&D 5e on a personal level. (Examples are bonus action healing potion, secret death saves, etc. I will be throwing in a personal rule I made for my games as an option.)

Anyways, enough of me rambling. Here's a closer shot of the Meif'wa guy I made! Was gonna make three to show range, but I got tired and I ended up liking him a lot -w- No name for him though... But I might just keep it that way for fun lol

Hydrate!

[laughroditee]

🔴 "Your Ghost" | Part 2 - XIII Death

Part 1 is here // Read on AO3 CW: this story takes place after Soap's death and contains supernatural elements, tarot, mentions of death and blood. this chapter contains descriptions of anxiety, mild violence, angst, and references to alcohol abuse. the series will eventually contain smut and be 18+. Characters in this chapter: Evangeline Stephens (female OC), Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley Summary: Evangeline reluctantly talks to Simon about Johnny at Johnny's urging. Word Count: 1969

Mood Music:

The ghost of John MacTavish looked down at me with a serious expression.  “I did.  I need yer help, Evangeline.  Yer the only one who can do it.”

“No,” I said.

He blinked. “‘No?’”

“No,” I repeated, my eyes a little too wide. 

“Ye haven’t even heard what I want from ye.”  John looked annoyed, his brows drawing down in a frown that lined his face. It made him look maybe just a little bit intimidating.  Having issues with displeasing someone, who me?

“Don’t want to.  Can’t.”  I shook my head for extra emphasis as if I needed it.  “Mm-mm.”

“Are ye always so childish?” 

Oof, right in the feelings.  “You want me to talk to someone, don’t you?” I accused, my finger jabbing the air at him.  

“How—?”

“Knight of Swords.  Air.  Communication,” I explained as if this were common knowledge and a perfectly logical conclusion to reach.  “You just have that very chatty air about you, and I dunno, man, I’m not about that life.  I have social anxiety.  I don’t play well with strangers because I’m too busy having a heart attack around them.  It’s just not a strength that I have.”

John looked momentarily apologetic before despair swallowed the expression.  This gave me pause.  Fuck me and my Catholic guilt.  “Fine!  Okay, alright, I’ll hear you out, but I can’t promise you anything.”  I sat down on the edge of the bed, just trying to quell the anxious jitters making my fingers shake, The Knight of Swords card dancing slightly in my grasp.  I placed it back with the other two in the reading and looked up at my ghostly kinsman.

John’s examining gaze was concerned as he stood across from me.  “Ye alright, lass?”

Reminding myself to take a deep breath, I simply nodded.

A single confirmation nod from John was all he gave before launching into his story.  “I was a soldier in life.  SAS.  British special forces.  We were on a mission a few months ago, chasin’ a Russian terrorist in the London tunnels.  Makarov.”  His eyes blazed as the memories washed through him, spitting his enemy’s name as if it were poison.  “We had ‘im too.  But the fucker was slippery.  My captain and I got shot while we were diffusin’ a bomb.”  John’s hand went to his shoulder as if to soothe the phantom wound.  “Makarov was about to finish ‘im off – my captain, I mean – but I managed to get up and clap the bastard, only… I ended up gettin’ shot in the head.  Killed instantly.  Then Makarov buggered off.”

I listened intently to John’s story, my heart squeezing in my chest for him.  “I’m so sorry, John.  I… don’t know what else to say.  You were really brave.”

He smirked.  “A lot of good it did me.  Still, Captain Price is alive, and I dunnae regret that.”  His eyes seemed focused on something far away, and I waited for him to continue.

When he didn’t, I had to prompt him.  “John?  What is it that you want from me?”

His eyes refocused on me, his mouth set in a grim line.  “I need yer help, Evangeline….  My boyfriend was there that day.  One of my teammates.  He’s not doin’ well.”

Shit.  I blew out a long breath as if I was trying to exorcise my demons.  “I’m so sorry,” I repeated uselessly.  “John, I’m… probably the last person you want to go and talk to your boyfriend about your death or literally anything else.  I suck at this kind of thing.  I never know what to say to grieving people, even if I’ve known them forever.  Words just aren’t enough.”

“Please,” he said, kneeling by the bed, his ghostly hand passing through mine as it lay on my lap, chilling me.  “You’re all I have, lass.”

Despite the urgency in his voice, I was hesitant for reasons that should have been obvious.  I stared down at the three cards on the bed once again, reinterpreting the reading as The Knight of Swords representing John, the Death card — for the first time in one of my readings — representing his literal death, and the Three of Swords representing his boyfriend’s subsequent heartbreak.  There are always multiple ways to interpret the cards in every situation; you just have to move through it and see what fits—a little like grief.

I looked back at him with an expression of resignation on my face.  “You’re lucky I like you.”

His face lit up.  “So you’ll do it?”

I sighed, coming to terms with the decision I was about to make.  “Yeah.  I’ll do it.”

“Sorry I called ye childish,” he said apologetically.

“Mm.”

“Yer beau’iful,” he tried again.

I gave him a grin.  “Aww, how kind of you to say.”

“Yes, I am kind. Now you compliment me.”

“Why should I when you just did it yourself?”

He chuckled before his expression sobered.  “Thank you, Evangeline. I cannae repay the favor you’re doin’ me.”

I looked back at him, noting how similar our eyes were.  “You can owe me in the next life, how’s that?”

“Sounds like a fair deal.  So, are ye gonna clean up this mess?”

“Sorry, you’ll have to clean yourself up.”

“Funny.”

I leaned down and started to gather my fallen tarot cards, picking out carpet lint and hairs occasionally as I stacked the deck.

”Y’know…,” he began, “ye make me wish I could’ve met you while I was livin’.  Think we coulda been friends?”

Deck neatly in hand, I looked up at him, a warm, bittersweet feeling blossoming inside my chest.  “Yeah, I think we could’ve been.  Could still be.”

He laughed.  “Well, bein’ friends with me is a blessing in itself.”

“I’m sure it is.”

We headed out by taxi to John’s old flat to see his boyfriend, Simon.  Simon Riley.  I turned the name over in my mind as we drove, wondering what kind of man he was.  It was odd traveling in a car with a complete stranger, knowing that you have a ghost with you.  I kept looking at the driver in the rearview mirror, paranoid that he’d be able to see John, but aside from my own awkwardness, the trip concluded uneventfully.

I stared at the door that I was supposed to be knocking on and felt immediately threatened, that familiar fight-or-flight feeling making my extremities tingle.  “Shit.  John, I can’t…”

“Easy.  I’ll be right here; I won’t leave ye.  But we have to get in and get to Simon, alright?  The eejit’s blootered.”

I stared at him in confusion.  “He’s what?”

John rolled his eyes, exasperated.  “Drinkin’, hen.  He’s right sloshed.  Now get knockin’.”

Stepping toward the door, I looked at John and said, “I feel like your Scottish level just increased.”  I wrapped my knuckles on the door before I lost my nerve and stepped back.

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes.  “I think yer just too American to understand—“

The door flew open, revealing the personification of my Death card: an enormous man wearing a skull balaclava, no shirt, about one billion muscles, and an appropriately sized scowl.  His displeasure was evident despite the mask covering his features.  It radiated off of him in waves like heat, like the smell of alcohol that invaded my nostrils as it drifted out from him.  Piercing dark eyes stared down at me briefly before squinting, and then he slammed the door in my face.  I could hear his heavy footfalls retreating further into the flat.  I looked at John, at a complete loss, and maybe with a bit of anxiety.  Just a wee bit.

He sighed.  “Knock again, Evangeline.  He’ll answer.”  

“Why do you not look convinced?”

“Because I’m not.”

“I appreciate your honesty.  Is he gonna kill me?” I asked, somehow finding the nerve to knock again through my blooming dissociation.  It was a genuine fear.  What do I actually know about these guys?  Not much.  John hadn’t told me anything about Simon besides that they were both in the military.  He most certainly didn’t tell me about how absofuckinglutely intimidating his man was; he looked like he could just break me in half with those dark brooding eyeballs of his, no hands necessary.  My heart lurched, palpitating in my chest wildly like a canary in a proverbial coal mine.

“He won’t kill ye,” John assured me and my anxiety.

Ten beats passed. Nothing.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” John said in frustration and then disappeared through the wall of the flat.  I could hear him swearing and yelling, all in vain.  He emerged, raking a hand through his mohawk in irritation.  When his eyes finally locked with mine, a silent plea filled them.

I didn’t like that look on John’s face; the pain and concern etched there was almost a tangible thing, and it hurt.  It made me feel edgy and a bit unstable, as if the ground beneath me wasn’t as sturdy as I believed before coming out here.  I stepped up and knocked again, louder, more insistent.  For him.

This time, I could hear the lumbering stomps of Simon’s gait as he approached the door to the flat, and I braced myself for whatever might come.  My hair sucked forward from the sudden vacuum the door caused, and I nearly expected the door to be ripped from its hinges, such was the velocity at which the door opened.  I hadn’t stepped back, but Jesus, I wished that I had.

“The fuck do you want?”  Simon’s voice was a low growl, his thick British accent raking across me like a physical attack.

There was that small animal voice in the back of my head as I looked up at the angry behemoth at the door, which said, with zero doubt, “You are going to die.”  He braced a forearm on the doorframe, leaning in closer.  My eyes widened fractionally with every millimeter that decreased between us.  Shit.

“Um… A-are you Simon?  Simon Riley?”

He blinked at me with unfocused eyes.  He’d been drinking heavily as he reeked of alcohol, which was wonderful for me because we all know that drunk people are totally predictable.  “Who’s askin’?”

My eyes flicked to John, who stood beside the door, nodding encouragingly.  “M-my name is Evangeline.  I’m here about John—"

“Johnny,” John — or Johnny — corrected me.

“Johnny?”  I glanced at my ghostly companion, who nodded.

Simon narrowed his eyes.  “The fuck you on about?”

“Look, I know this will sound crazy, but he sent me here with a message.”  This was a bit of a stretch since, now that I thought about it, Johnny didn’t actually give me a message for Simon.

“So, what, you’re a bloody fortune teller?” Simon asked, his gravelly voice seething with bitter outrage.

Shit shit shit shit shit.  “No, that’s not—“ I started, taking a defensive step backward, but he barreled on.

“What the fuck do you want here?”

“Johnny wanted me to—“ 

I had little time to react before he picked me up by my jacket lapels and slammed me against his door, the air quickly evicted from my lungs.  The back of my head stung as I looked in horror at him.

“Johnny doesn’t want anything.  He’s fucking dead.”

I froze under his gaze, which was both hateful and wounded, the cold rush of adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream.

Johnny interjected in a panic, “The first thing I ever said to him was,  ‘Let’s get ourselves a win.’ Tell him!”

I could feel my throat starting to close up.  I couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe.

“Shit.”  Johnny rushed forward, moving through Simon, trying to get him to loosen his grip, but it was useless.  Next, he passed through me, my body feeling the chill of his presence, a strange, otherworldly shiver as suddenly, my mouth moved.

“LT, let ‘er go.”  The voice was mine, but the speaker was Johnny, his Scottish inflection clear in my voice.

Part 3

[aphverse-confessions]

Nicole and Dante don’t have confirmed ages, however they do have implied ages that leave the impression of an age gap. Nicole and Garroth were fiancés multiple years ago (Zane gave a more specific number when he confronted Garroth aftwr Donna and Logan’s wedding, I just don’t remember what), and when he was met Dante was fresh out of the guard academy (which most assume to mean somewhere within the 18-22 age range) which means he is implied to be years younger than Garroth and Laurence since they have been guards for years.

So with all this information, it just leaves a handful of interpretations.

Nicole is Garroth’s age, being years older than Dante. This is what a lot of people assume, and lead some to having issues with MCD Dancole because of that gap

Garroth was engaged to Nicole when she was Much younger than him (which honestly given the fantasy medieval vibes MCD has, wouldn’t be a large leap in logic)

Or Dante was simply a lot older than most when he joined the guard academy (although this may contradict what he tells Aphmau about his home life and having to be raised by his aunt and uncle, but I don’t remember it enough to confidently say this Cant be true)

Most go with the first one, since it’s the most straight forward assumption abd Dante does give off big little brother vibes in the original season one guard trio. So yeah. There is no Confirmed ages, but y’all. Just think a little bit about what we know about the characters and where they are in life when we meet them and you can actually take a pretty decent guess at some sort of age range.

.

[blepbleepbop]

I did end up adding a few more colors to it, but now since I’m sick I’m just going to be delusional and thinking about them. Yall can tell me what yall want me to do with them next. I need some serotonin— ;u;

[bbbeowulf]

Do I draw my MCD/MYS:ES big booba lesbian villainess again or do I continue to suffer with my brain rot on my lonesome

[mentally-a-slut]

thinking about writing a slice of life mystreet fic and by thinking about i mean drafting it up rn anyone interested?

[snootatello]

Wow another character?!

Well here we are, I guess my art block decided to have mercy on me finally

Here’s Lucinda! I love how she turned out personally

[skittlezmike]

Are they lovers? WORSE!!!

A priest and his guard...Season 2 of MCD is gonna hurt so bad 💔

THEY HURT SO BAD GODDD-

[zanelover]

Cute little Nyx <3

I love this so much!

Okay, so I figured out a bit of their lore. They are a traveling merchant that specializes in making bows and arrows. They know some magic but prefer to use it specifically for practicality such as cleaning or healing and things like that.

They love visiting Phoenix Drop and the Phoenix Alliance because Kawaii~Chan is their best friend. They love making people question their sexuality by flirting with them. They're bisexual (of course <3) and non binary, so they avoid answering questions about their gender. They respond to questions like that with 'yes' or 'no' instead of explaining what being non binary is to every soul they meet.

I like to imagine they have flirting wars with Laurance, resulting in them making out or something. (Laurance may be my favorite hottie of MCD) To keep from complicating things, I've decided that my character accidentally stumbled upon what was going on with the 15 year time skip and went with the group to the Irene dimension.